#This is why I never write fic because I just go insane and start writing meta posts instead.
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sweetiemiller · 3 days ago
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MARRIED AT FIRST SIGHT. kind of.
Joel Miller!AU x Reader.
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hi again! so im doing it! ive read over it a million times and if there’s any mistakes please do forgive me. but here’s the full chapter of the start of my spiteful fic lmao.
kidding. im actually really excited to try something different and being embraced by a lot of you has been so great. so thank you everyone who sent a nice word or even just liked the post!
this will probably NSFW at some point. im still deciding when and how it’ll happen in the story but it’s going to be a lot of fun. the POV’s will jump around from chapter to chapter.
thanks to @highinmiamiii sending me the fic i was looking for! thank you! like i said before this fic is heavily inspired by https://www.tumblr.com/tokkiwrites/771944052123959296/game-show-hostjoel-miller-x-contestant-f
and the enjoyment of au!writing. it’s so freeing and let’s us explore characters in different ways. everyone please go read this story, it’s so good and they deserve every single bit of support.
ill stop yappin now and just post it!!
warnings— swearing. referring to killing Tommy Miller (will happen a lot), little bit of fluff for now. future warnings to come!
enjoy—
Chapter 1.
Joel’s POV—
Tommy Miller is a dead man. Joel thinks as he promises to whoever and whatever is above and below that he will personally kill him with his bare hands.
Those same bare hands that are clasped together so tight behind his back as he stands at the top of the aisle. His eyes were boring into Tommy’s who is currently standing up from his seat in the front row with a shit-eating grin on his face.
Yeah. He’s going to kill him.
The lights and the cameras are starting to make the skin on his neck prickle. The people behind the camera’s making him feel tense as his eyes flicker around the room.
He can feel jaw ticking and clenching as his eyes keep looking around the room and catching a few of the eyes of seeing the unknown bride to be’s family are staring at him too. Looking… well, friendly enough. For now anyway.
He can see their eyes scanning him.
Up and down, up and down.
From his slightly greying hair that is just sprinkling through his thick coarse hair. Right down to the black patent dress shoes on his feet that a woman named Jane from production had brought him along with this black three piece suit.
He thinks he looks good. But—
He doesn’t really care and if he was asked to give an honest answer right at this second he’d say exactly that. However, for the first time in a long time he willing to admit that he doesn’t look that rough around the edges.
Which is good, because in about 30 seconds his new wife is about to walk down the aisle.
Not legally of course. But for the sake of the show, he’s contracted to act like it is.
26 seconds.
Why Tommy thought that signing him onto goddamn Married At First Sight he’ll never understand. But the promise of a new Harley-Davidson Sportster Iron 883 and 60% of whatever income from the promotion the construction company will get from being on the show is more than enough to go along with it.
For now anyway.
14 seconds.
He just hopes whoever you are, you’re not one of those absolutely insane people who go on reality television just to cause drama. Because he will walk, cameras and contracts be damned.
He’ll buy his own Harley.
If he’s lucky he’ll get matched with someone who wants to promote their business as well and maybe they can come to some sort of agreement about this whole thing.
9 seconds.
Because who actually goes on a television show to look for love? Who genuinely believes that anyone could even fall in love under these conditions. Cameras. TV therapists. A group full of people who are desperate for their 10 minutes of fame.
It’s just not realistic.
5 seconds.
Joel snaps out his thoughts as he spots Tommy giving him a look. A look that Joel knows means, ‘Dude’, his eyes flicker back and forward before Joel realises what he’s saying. You’re coming down the aisle—
1 second.
Joel hears the doors cracking open and the music starting as soon as his eyes meet the huge white double doors at the end of the room. His hands clenching again as he keeps his focus on the door that’s opening and revealing who he is going to be stuck with for as long as he can handle in this absolutely ridiculous situation his brother has landed him in.
He see’s you walking through the doors. And he genuinely feels his breath get caught in his throat as he see’s your face for the first time.
Your eyes almost immediately meet his as you walk into the wedding hall with who he presumes is your mother. An older woman who’s eyes don’t even attempt to look at him, focused on you.
You look nervous. Terrified even.
Which, to his annoyance, makes him feel something in his chest as he watches you slowly making your way down to him.
He has to admit to himself. You’re genuinely beautiful.
And with that thought, all of a sudden he feels himself starting to panic. He realises wasn’t really expecting to find you attractive. He was fully preparing himself to be putting on his best face and foot forward during this process. His mind focused on that moment he has his first ride of his new Harley-Davidson the entire time.
But now, he’s going to have to focus on that damn bike to stop himself from doing anything goddamn stupid.
The closer you get to the bottom of the aisle, the harder he’s having to hold back a glare that is itching to aim straight for Tommy. But he doesn’t. Because he knows his pain in the ass little brother is going to have an even bigger shit-eating grin on his face now that he’s seen you.
It’s not until you’re kissing your assumed mother on the cheek and whispering something to her that he finally see’s you up close for the first time. His eyes feeling like they’re bouncing around his head as he takes you in.
Jesus, Mary and Joseph— he’s fucked.
The hair. The eyes. The nose. The goddamn lips. The white dress.
It’s not at all what he was picturing. He was fully imagining you and expecting you to go all out and look like princess cake topper. The show is paying for everything after all.
But no, you’re dressed in a long flowing silk dress. With little cap sleeves and the front of your dress making your tits look round and soft—
He has to stop.
He opens his mouth to say something, anything. But you’re already beating him to it with the sweetest voice he’s ever heard.
“I like your suit,” you say, the words falling from your lips like they were dragged out of you. Which admittedly— is very cute.
He lets a short puff of air escape his nose as he doesn’t quite laugh but, almost an amused look crosses his face as he looks down at you.
“I like your dress,” he says back, quietly but loud enough for you to hear. Or that least he hopes you do. Because he does like your dress, he likes it a lot actually, which surprises him.
He’s not a man to even care about dresses. Or anything stupid like that. A woman is a woman, he doesn’t care what they’re dressed in. But this dress on you? He’s struggling. Badly.
He watches you blush a little as you look down at your dress, running a hand over the front of it. The silk moving under your finger tips, almost hypnotising him for a moment before your soft laugh breaks him out his trance.
“Thanks. They gave my mom free reign in the dress shop,” you say with a soft, nearly genuine smile as you jut your thumb over your shoulder towards the woman who was walking you down the aisle now sitting in the front row behind you.
Ah, so he was right.
Joel smiles a little as he nods his head at your mom, being respectful for as long as he can handle this experiment.
Oh God he’s going to have to actually interact with your family.
He looks back at you, watching as your other hand is clutching your bouquet of sunflowers so tightly he’s actually a bit worried the stems might snap in half right here.
“She has good taste,” he says as his eyes travel back up to your face. He feels something twist in his chest again as he sees how nervous you look, and before he can open his mouth to give you just a little reassurance.
Knowing that the cameras and lights are probably making you just as nervous as him, someone clears their throat. Making you jump a little as his head turns almost too quickly to the sound tensing up a little until he see’s it’s just the very real officiant for this very real wedding.
God, what is he doing?
He hears her asking the both of you if you’re ready to begin and he just nods. He looks down at you and taking the chance to grab your free hand just right there. Temping him already.
He smiles a little bit as he sees the warmth spread on your cheeks and your almost wide-eyed facial expressions looking up at him.
Beautiful. He can’t help but let the thought sit at the front of his brain for a moment.
“You ready?,” he whispers to you, his own eyes going a little wide too from how fast his heart rate is going as he tightens his grip slightly as he watches you nod and breath out a soft, yeah.
He nods back as he turns back to the wedding officiant, taking a deep breath as he tries to focus on what the woman is starting to say, her very real speech.
Oh sweet Jesus, he needs to read the vows that Tommy wrote him.
This is going to be a nightmare.
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your-local-granny · 2 years ago
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The way franziska perceives edgeworth is so fucking insane because she exclusively refers to him as either ‘Little Brother’, something that is both familiar and familial, OR ‘Miles Edgeworth’, which is absurdly formal but also clearly states that he is not a von Karma. Franziska’s opinion on Edgeworth’s “right to the von Karma name” changes repeatedly throughout the games and she simultaneously seems to think he is both more worthy and more of a genius than she could ever be whilst also adamantly refusing that he could understand just how much being a von Karma weighs on her.
I also personally love it because it expresses that Franziska views Edgeworth as a brother whilst also not denying Edgeworth’s connection to his Father and his past before he met her. Idk man franziska’s brain works so strangely and they make me crazy 💖💖💖😵‍💫😵‍💫
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sanjisleggy · 1 month ago
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the warlord’s wife (dracule mihawk x reader)
req: Oh if you want to you should do a Mihawk x reader (fem or gn) that's hurt comfort where the reader is like the exact opposite of him. Like she is usually so happy and sweet and kind. And something happens and maybe she starts to worry that she is too much for Mihawk because he is just someone who is quiet and to himself all the time and she thinks she is constantly bothering him
a/n: ahhh my first attempt at writing for Mihawk! a much shorter fic compared to my others but i hope you guys like it nonetheless :3c i’d love to write longer fics for him if anyone has any ideas yippee
contents: rude people (lol), insecure!fem!reader, simp!Mihawk, a tiny bit of angst, some hurt/comfort, fluff :3c
wc. 1k
wanna be on my taglist?
i. 
standing outside the large ornate doors, you feel your face burn with embarrassment as you contemplate simply going to the docks to wait out by the hitsugibune until the gala ends. as tempting as escaping from the horrific social situation sounds right now, your pride refuses to let you bow your head in defeat.
”i don’t know how else to convince you,” you try to appeal to the two marines standing guard outside the venue entrance once more, “if you could just ask him to verify my identity—”
”i’m sorry, miss,” the larger man of the two cuts you off with a less than apologetic look. “there’s just no reason why we should do as you say. if we listened to every man or woman demanding to go in, we’d lose our heads.”
your indignance and frustration quickly bubbles into pure anger and for a brief moment you lament having left your katana back at the castle. you bite your tongue, unable to think of any other way to convince the marine officers that you are, indeed, a guest who’d been invited to the gala because you’re literally one of the Warlords’ wives.
“besides,” the other officer chips in unprompted, “no offence but you don’t seem like the type of woman someone like Dracule Mihawk would marry.” his partner fails to hold back a scoff but quickly attempts to return his expression back into one of neutral professionalism.
clenching your fists by your sides, you try your very hardest to keep your eyes from tearing up for the second time tonight. normally such a comment wouldn’t phase you—years of being Mihawk’s partner has done wonders for thickening your skin—right now, though, you can’t help but feel a familiar sharp stinging sensation pierce through your chest.
of all the snarky comments you marine dogs decide to make, why this one?
ii.
it had only been an hour into the gala and already you regretted begging your husband, just weeks prior, to consider attending with you as his guest. the event was a grand one held by the marines every year to “show their appreciation” towards their allies, which included the Seven Warlords; and every year the invite would show up at your doorstep only to be promptly thrown out by your introverted husband.
”can we please go? i miss going for social events like these.” you’d pleaded that night in bed, hugging his arm tightly as you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck—a move he liked to call ‘playing dirty. “just this once to see what it’s like, then i’ll never ask again.”
both you and Mihawk knew it was a lie but the swordsman was nothing if not a simp for you so he begrudgingly agreed.
”care to elaborate why?” you challenge, taking the two marines aback if their surprised expressions are anything to go by. clearly not used to ‘civilians’ talking back to them, they take a moment to gather their thoughts—and at least have enough decency to look embarrassed at being called out.
”w-well—”
“your wife is such a chatterbox! it’s a wonder you’ve tolerated her for as long as you have!”
”your husband is whom? forgive me, i find that hard to believe.”
”i thought he was some kind of recluse?”
”maybe it was an arranged marriage. how scandalous.”
”i pity the poor man. all my husband does is talk and it drives me insane some days.”
”darling?” a deep familiar voice calls out from behind you, accompanied by the sound of heeled shoes clicking against stone. before you can turn around, you feel his warm hand rest itself on your shoulder, the comforting heat of his body engulfing you from behind. “i’ve been looking for you.”
the blood drains from both the marine officers’ faces, their eyes widening in shock as it dawns on them what a mistake they’ve just made. as though pleading for mercy, the eyes of the larger man flickers in your direction, almost screaming: “please, i’m too young to die.”
”were these men giving you trouble?” Mihawk probes gently, using his other hand to tilt your head in his direction. the moment his eyes meet your own and widen ever so slightly, you know there’s no point lying. as much as you’ve been able to hold back your tears of frustration well enough to fool the average man, your husband is anything but average.
mouths still agape, the marine officers can do nothing but watch as the notorious swordsman proceeds to cup your face with his right hand in a manner so tender they can’t help but suspect he’s an imposter. unbothered by the unbelieving stares sent his way, Mihawk brushes his thumb under your eye as though to confirm his suspicion.
”they were but it’s okay now,” you finally reply, placing your hand over his to hold it in place as you relish in the comforting warmth of his palm.
”what did you do to my wife?” he disregards your subtle plea for peacemaking. he knows you well enough to infer that you simply don’t want him to make a scene for the sake of maintaining his public image. 
Mihawk’s aware of how much you actually enjoy silently watching him defend your pride and honour; and he also knows from experience how happily you’ll reward him with your honeyed words and sweet touches later tonight, when it’s just the two of you alone together. it concerns him, slightly, if he were to be honest, how easily you have him wrapped around your finger—but that’s something to think about another day. 
the marines stutter and stammer but nothing coherent leaves their lips, all linguistic ability fading into nothing under the angered gaze of the Warlord.
”be thankful my beloved is as kind as she is,” the swordsman warns, all the while maintaining his hardened glare. “know that had she not vouched for you two, i’d have no problem killing you right where you stand.”
taglist: @irethepotato @i-reblog-fics-i-like @grierpilots
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writersblog20 · 4 months ago
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Sick baby🍒
Neighbor!Joel Miller x reader 
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Credits to the very talented : @a7estrellas 🫶🫶
Summary: When sickness catches you and you seemed to be doomed to take care of yourself, your hot older neighbor is going to make sure you get better. ��(Lots of fluff and comfort)
Warnings: age-gap (Age of reader isn't classified but is in mid 20s). Mention of neglect and ptsd but NO details of traumatic events in itself. Sickness and hints to anxiety. Pet names like: baby girl, sweetheart, princess etc.  I'm sorry if I missed anything else.  
Words: 3.1K (I could've made this shorter, but I didn't) 
A/N: Hi.... So, I'm back? Sort of? Anyhow, here's a soft fic after 2 (or 3?) years of hiatus. I'm not dead just anxious and traumatized but I'm trying to get back to writing again! Please take it easy because I've been out of training. Anyway, I want to try to write about Hugh Jackman as well! So get ready for that, but also give me a second hahaha. I hope Youa'll are doing good!  
Sick baby 
It all started with a throbbing headache and the feeling of thorns in your throat. You groaned which made get an entire cough attack. You wiped the tears away from your eyes from coughing so violently. You felt exhausted and sick. It was in fact, that time of the year again for getting a cold.  
You made your way downstairs to make some tea. You looked into the cabinets for some honey but groaned when you remembered you had to do some grocery shopping today. The thought of having to go out of your house made you want to cry. You felt emotional, horrible, weak and sick. You just wanted to curl up in bed and someone to take care of you but that wasn't happening anytime soon.  
You heard the car door closing outside and it caught your attention, as it always would when he would arrive home. Your insanely hot, sweet and older neighbour, Joel Miller. You had a huge crush on him since you moved into your new home, and he helped you with your moving boxes as he saw you struggling. A couple of days later, when you got all settled, you made him some muffins as a toking of gratitude, and he invited you in to have a cup of tea.  
It didn't take much to get a crush on your older neighbour. He was incredibly handsome, sweet and you had a thing for older men, and he just made you turn into a complete puddle every time. He seemed to notice that you got flustered and shy around him and he absolutely loved it, which he made it now a mission to get you shy and flustered around him. It made his chest feel all warm and fluffy, something he hadn't felt in years that it turned him in a grumpy old man. Except, you made him feel happy and fuzzy inside. He would never admit it, but it was true. He was so very intrigued by you. For him, you were a sunshine even though you were alone a lot of the time, he saw you as someone very special for your age. He caught you more times, watching old movies. Like 1925 and 1950 old movies. Or when you caught you walking to your front door with new records in your arms. The times he caught you outside on your own porch, completely indulged in your book that you were reading at the time, a cup of tea next to you, a blanket over your lap as the rain hit the roof.  
He caught him staring at you so many times. Joel was a difficult and sometimes troubled man but when he looked at you, he found peace and serenity. The kind that he had been looking for his whole life, and now that it was in front of him, it scared him deeply. But no matter how hard he fought that feeling and wanted to keep a distance between the two of you, he found himself even closer to you. There was one thing he noticed, you were alone for most of the time, and it made him curious.  
One night, when the two of you had a beer on his front porch, he asked you why and how you were able to move into a home already at your age, hoping by asking you that question, he would get to know why you were alone a lot. You told him that you would tell the part of why another time and went straight to the how. He figured it wasn't a nice story and it wasn't. Let's just say for now that you didn't have a relationship with your parents and that it truly was for your own good. You had to leave your parents' home for your own safety.  
One evening, you stood in front of his door, soaking wet by the rain, and tears streaming down your cheeks. It left a hole in his chest seeing you like that and he felt instant rage, knowing that someone was the cause of how you felt. The moment he saw you, the features on his face showed deep concern as he pulled you into a tight hug as an impulse. When he opened the door and saw you like that, he had an overwhelming feeling to protect you. He pulled you inside carefully as he shushed you softly. His hand on the back of your head as he carefully tucked your head against his chest. He placed multiple kissed on the top of your head.  
You told him about the altercation that you had with your father. That was the moment you told him everything. You babbled so much that you struggled to get through your own words. “C'me here sweetheart.” he told you, held your hand and let you to the kitchen. He lifted you up on the counter and set you down while he quickly made some tea. Your make-up was all over your face and he got a soft cloth, made it wet and gently wiped it over your face to get the remains of your make-up and tears away. The soft look that was on his face, made your lip wobble again and gave you new tears on your cheeks. Joel looked into your eyes and his eyes softened even more as his heart broke for you. “Oh, baby girl...” The softness by a man and the feeling of safety and how secure and taken care of you felt, was new to you and it brought you to a completely new breakdown. Joel pulled you in a hug again and tucked your face into his neck. Even though you were on the counter, Joel was still taller than you. It was at that point that you've started to became emotionally attached to Joel.  
~~~~~~~`~~ 
You looked out of the window and thought about asking Joel if he could go to the store for you, but you felt so fatigue that you couldn't master up the courage to ask him, knowing that you would be too shy right now. Yes, you've shared that intimate moment together but since that night, your crush turned into love. You were head over heels for your neighbour.  
You sighed, which got you into another coughing attack. “Fine” You grumbled and heard that you had almost no voice left. You nose started to run and you knew that it would be better if you went to the store now before it got worse. 
You quickly went upstairs and got your oversized hoodie and sweatpants, throwing them on, brushed your teeth, cleaned your face and quickly did your hair. You noticed that you looked horrible, and a wave of warmth came over you. “A fever? Already?” you sighed and quickly got your stuff to go to the store.  
You got all the groceries you needed and headed home. You got so many extra things to make this cold disappear as soon as possible.  Once you got home you tried to get your bags out of the car, but you felt a hot wave go over you again, started to get dizzy and felt so weak that you couldn't even lift the stupid bags out of the car. You were already out of breath, and you started to mutter curse words in yourself.  Your vision started to get warry and black and you had to hold yourself to the car 
“Woa, take it easy baby girl.” Joel ran to your aid and held you, looking worryingly at your face. You held onto Joel now and slowly started to get your vision back but with a major headache... A migraine. “God fucking dammit...” you muttered, and Joel looked a bit in surprise at you. He never heard you curse before. “You okay there baby doll?” You held your palm to your head and groaned. “I'm sick” you spoke up louder and he was finally able to hear your voice correctly. Without saying anything he held his hand to your forehead, feeling how warm you were.  
“Let's put your things inside and get what you need but you're coming with me after. You're burning up.” he told you and got your stuff out of your car. You felt your heart skip a beat from nerves. “I ehm...” Joel ignored you and got your stuff. You wanted to get one bag out of his hands to help but he shot daggers at you for even thinking about getting a bag out of his hands.... ever.  You quickly looked down as if you were in trouble and Joels look softened and got your hand in his. “You're too good for this world princess.” he remarked and helped you towards your house.  
You unlocked the door and Joel hinted for you to get in first. He made his way to your kitchen and unpacked your stuff, putting it away and keeping the things, he figured were for the cold, in the bag so he could take it with him to his house and nurse you back to health. You were shuffling on your feet and Joel looked up. It was pretty clear that you felt uncomfortable and not really knowing what to do. It wasn't Joel that made you feel uncomfortable but more because you weren't allowed to help and you felt like a burden.  
“Why don't you get the stuff that you want ready, and we can head back to mine in a minute.” he proposed softly. You nodded, giving in silently. You made your way upstairs and gathered some stuff, but you felt so exhausted and out of breath that you sat down for a moment. You felt so terrible that the tears started to gather in your eyes. Your head and mind were so preoccupied that you didn't hear Joel. He softly knocked at your door, scaring you a bit. You quickly wiped away your tears, even though he'd seen you cry before.  
Joels gaze was so full of care and gentleness at that point that you couldn't stop crying right now. “What's wrong sweetheart?” he carefully kneeled before you, holding your hand and his other hand stroked your hair. “I don't want to burden you, Joel. Or take up too much space, change your schedule and stuff. I’ll be alright by myself.” you told him, but you couldn't even convince yourself of that right now.  Joels hand that stroked your hair, went gently over your cheek and his thumb and finger held your chin and made you look at him. “Princess, you will never be a burden to me, at all. I like your presence around me. Sick or not. You'll never take up too much space and you are allowed to be yourself around me. I want you to feel safe, secure, comfortable, loved and adored enough to be yourself around me. I know it's difficult for you, with what you've been through, but I promise you, I'll never let anyone hurt you again. Let me teach you what it's like to be cared about and loved.  I want you to be with me so I can take care of you, and I promise you, you'll never be a burden to me. Let me take care of you right now baby girl. You deserve it. And secretly I know that you really want to right now.” he playfully told you and gently poked your side.  
You couldn't help but smile a bit. “Okay...” was all could say right now, and it was more than enough for Joel as he got a big grin. “Let me help you pack up sweetheart. And if you need more stuff, I can always walk back.” he told you and kissed your forehead. He asked you where your pj's were and put it in your bag, with your toothbrush and all the necessities for now. Joel already chose to give you his hoodies for when you got cold. It was easier, so he didn't have to take much with him but the biggest reason was so he could see you in a hoodie and sweatpants that were his. He saw your book at your night cabinet and got it in the bag as well. “You need anything else princess? If we forgot something, I could get it in a second, that's no problem.” He told you convincingly. “I think we're good.” Joel hummed in satisfaction and gently helped you stand up and helped you down the stairs.  
He got your grocery bag, your keys and locked your door. When you got into his house, he placed the grocery bag on the floor for a second and helped you up the stairs towards his bedroom. You felt butterflies in your stomach seen you've never been upstairs before. 
“Don't worry, I changed the sheets this morning.” he told you but honestly, you wouldn't have mind if he didn't. He placed you gently on his bed and you looked around for a bit. “Why don't you take a shower to freshen up a bit and I'll get you some tea and fruit when you're done, hmh?”  You nodded and he showed you the bathroom. “I'll get you some towels and your pjs.” he told you and you nodded, looking around for a bit and feeling out of place.  
When Joel came back, he flashed you a comforting smile “Yell if you need anything or when you need help sweetheart.” he told you and you smiled gratefully. “Thank you, Joel.” you told him and he smiled, closing the door.  
After your warm shower, you felt exhausted and wanted to sleep. You got into your pj's and crawled into Joels bed. You snuggled into the pillows and pulled the sheets up to your chin, getting comfortable. It still smelled like Joel, giving a comforting and safe feeling. Like you were finally able to relax and be taken care of for once. You closed your eyes and gave into the tired feeling. 
You didn't know how much time had passed but you were awakened by Joel stroking your hair softly. “Hi baby girl, I made you some tea and some fresh fruit. You can continue sleeping if you eat and drink something.” he told you softly and sweetly as he sat beside you on the bed. You nodded, getting up. Joel adjusted the pillows behind you and walked around the other side of the bed and sat next to you, handing the tray with the fruit, tea, water and painkillers. “Thank you, Joel. I mean it. This means a lot to me.” Joel couldn't help but smile almost proudly. He gave you a kiss on your forehead. “Thank YOU, for letting me take care of you, and trusting me. That means a lot to me as well.”  
You started to feel a bit more comfortable and slowly finished the food he gave you. Joel handed you the tv remote with a wink and you searched something to watch on it. Joel got up to put the tray away but you were quick to take his arm. “Please, stay with me.” Joel melted by your big puppy eyes and smiled “I'll be right back baby girl.” you were content with his reaction and let go of him.  
Joel was as fast as lightning at that moment because he was back in a blink of an eye. He got next to you again and made himself comfortable before hinting to cuddle with him. Your heart was filled to the brink with love. Your head was on his chest and you grabbed onto his shirt before making yourself comfortable. Your eyes started to feel heavy while Joel softly massaged your head. His breathing and heartbeat calmed you down “It's okay baby girl, you're safe here. Get some sleep.” He whispered and in response you snuggled even closer to him and gave into the much-needed sleep.  
~~~~~ 
When you woke up, Joel was gone and with that, it left a sort of emptiness in your heart for a second. The tv was still on with the sound softly echoing through the room. You heard some pans clink together downstairs and you felt at ease, knowing Joel was close by. You sniffled your nose and hid underneath the blankets again from the cold. You heard the rain violently hitting the roof as it covered the sound coming from the tv.  
30 minutes later, Joel came upstairs and you peeked a bit from the covers, looking at him. He smiled warmly at you. “I made you some soup. I promise you, this will get you back on your feet.” he told you with a proud smile on his face as he gave you the tray with the soup. You saw that he had, once again, cut some fresh fruit for you, had a bottle of water and some lemon tea with honey. You smiled shyly “Thank you Joel.” He sat down next to you. “I missed you when I woke up.” you told him honestly without really thinking. Joel smiled proudly again and his cheeks changed in a pink color. “Well, I'm glad you did” the realization of what you had said, kicked in and you felt your cheeks heat up and immediately turned shy again. Joel noticed, and knew it wasn't the time to joke around right now. “But don't worry, I won't go anywhere, princess.” He interlinked your fingers through his and placed a kiss on the back of your hand. You leaned more against Joel in response, not really knowing what to say, so you tried to show his through getting closer and luckily, Joel picked up immediately on them and let out a gravel chuckle.  
“You stay here as long as you need. Even when you're better. Or when you feel like shit, you can always come here. See it as your second home, doll. You're always welcome here, and.... I really like you here.” He looked at you and for the first time, you could see Joel a bit nervous as he confessed to you. “I really like it here too. But only because of you...” You shyly admit, hoping he would catch on what you said, which, of course he did. “Same here, princess.” he gave you lingering kiss on your forehead, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable. “I'll make sure you're better soon, baby girl. But for now, what old classic movie do you want to watch?” he asked you with a smile, making you giggle.  
You were down bad for this man but in the end, you were very glad and happy that it was this man.  
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angxlofvenus · 2 years ago
Note
Hii! I saw your requests were open and I thought I'd give you a hc/fic idea:
The brothers (or whoever you'd like to write for) reacting to Mc using their shampoo/ soap in the shower for whatever reason ^^
I hope this makes sense to you lol, anyways I hope you're having a wonderful day/night, don't push yourself too hard, and drink water!! You can also take any creative liberties you seem fit, or if you decide you don't want to write it I won't be offended ^^
°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°
Thank you so much for the request!! This is absolutely adorable, I hope everything is to your liking, Have a great rest of your day/night !! Genre: fluff Ship: Reader x brothers + Diavolo (individual headcanons) TW: clingy demons, minimal cussing, no use of readers' pronouns, second-person pov
When You Use Their Shampoo
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Stepping into the shower, You were greeted with the nice hot/cool water raining from above, Going to start your routine, You reached for your shampoo bottle only to find it empty! Looking around you spotted his shampoo and conditioner, surely he wouldn’t mind… right?
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Lucifer
100% smells it on you no matter how little you used
Won’t tease you in public but as soon as ya’ll are alone? Ho ho, he’ll never shut up about it
Smug, the definition of smug
You had to go and inflate the ego of The Lord of Pride even more
Very possessive afterwards
Congrats, You know have a scary guard dog demon!
Mammon
He probably wouldn’t even really notice at first
He’d probably compliment how good you smell, Then would slowly realize…
Great, Now he's yelling gibberish while his face slowly gets redder and redder
“You’re gonna give me a heart attack, don’t do that to me!” But will become very clingy
If you say his shampoo smells good, he may lose his mind.
“Well of course ya wanted to smell Like the great Mammon!” 
Levi
Poor awkward nerd
He never saw this coming
I think he would realize you used his shampoo but won’t say anything
Flustered to the max
You have broken him
Levi.404 has stopped working, please reset.
After like the third day, You’re gonna have to bring it up
Secretly really likes it, Won’t tell you that though
Satan
I think he is very picky about scents so he knows as soon as you walk into the room
A little bit of a tease, asking if you were trying out a new shampoo
Smug 2.0 
He would tease you a little bit around the others but not bad
He would flood you with compliments, You using his shampoo would make him very lovey-dovey
Expect him to ask for ya’ll to just use the same stuff from now on
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Asmo
Oh honey, he knows.
He knew before you even got out of the shower.
But that doesn't mean he's any less excited!
Better plug your ears because he will let out the loudest squeal known to mankind
Seriously, Lucifer may come and check on ya’ll helicopter mom
Asks what you do and don’t like about it
He just wants you to feel as fantastic as he does when using it
Everyone will know you used his shampoo, He brings it up in every conversation
Would also 100% ask you to use his bath products 24/7
Beel
Now Beel has never been really into insane products like Asmo or Luci
So he may not really recognize it at first
If you decide to tell him, This man will become a happy demon puddle
He’ll give you a big smile and tell you you’re free to use any of his stuff at anytime
We don’t deserve Beel
Will bury his face into your hair and just stay there
Takes you out to Hell’s kitchen that night just because he loves you so much
Belphie
Oh this little shit
Tease! He won’t quit bragging!!
Smug 3.0
Such a brat about it too, He won’t let anybody near you, Well of course he’d let Beel, but who wouldn't?
He has practically locked you up in the attic with him
Why go outside when ya’ll can cuddle? 
Diavolo
Has really expensive products 
He may even have a custom scent
If so, He’ll know instantly that you’ve used his shampoo
He’ll bring it up with a large grin on his face
When you confirm his suspicions, he’ll just laugh
He’s so happy ya’ll are close enough to share things like that, You have no idea!
He may make a sly comment to Barbatos or Lucifer just because he’s a little possessive
Will follow you around like a lost puppy, Now Barbatos is mad at you because even less of his work is done
He can’t help it! He just loves you!
Will be the third on my list to offer ya’ll to just share bath products
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bearambles · 6 months ago
Note
ARUGUMENT FIC W HAMZAH PLEASE like gets into an argument and you need to cool off and leave and he won’t let you jus angst 👅👅
jealous
(hamzahthefantastic)
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words: 1.9k
warnings: established relationship, angst, arguing, swearing, hamzah is kinda a pos, happy ending
note: i hope this is what you were hoping for! i could also 100% write a part 2. also, i think another anon recently requested an argument fic, so there might be another one coming bc it was honestly fun to write. love u all, more fics coming soon
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hamzah is driving you insane.
he’s usually not the “jealous type”, but for some reason, today is different. he’s grumpy and pissy and you think you know why.
last night you had gone out to dinner with a few friends from your old school. you weren’t out late, and the group was only about ten people, but to his dismay, your ex boyfriend was one of them.
you told him about it as soon as you knew, and he was pretty passive as soon as he heard. still, he didn’t make too big of a deal, even when you wore your skimpy little outfit to the bar. after all, it was high school. besides, he trusts you.
that was until he saw the pictures. your exs hand on your waist. the way he’s next to you in the group photo. it all really pisses him the fuck off, and even when you swear to him it meant nothing and the guy didn’t mean it, he wasn’t so sure.
“y/n, you see this guy after like five years, you look fine as fuck wearing that tiny fucking skirt, and you think he won’t be into you?”
you scoff, your chest now rising and falling. you really never pegged hamzah as the type of guy to act like this. yet here he was, standing in your bedroom, a few feet away from you with his arms crossed over his chest.
you’d crawled into bed last night to him asleep, and the two of you had been completely fine until this morning. he woke up to see your friend post on instagram about the night prior. he scrolled through her photos before finding the ones of the whole group.
“okay, so it’s my fault if he was?”
“i didn’t say that.”
“you meant it though!” you run your fingers through your hair, frustrated. “listen, i already told you it was nothing. but if it wasn’t, if he was interested, it doesn’t matter, because im dating you.”
he smiles tightly and shakes his head, the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb.
“sure. okay. yeah.”
“you think i’d cheat?”
you stare at him, your blood pressure rising. you can’t believe the way he’s acting. the shit he’s implying you’d do.
“i never fucking said that, y/n. i’m just saying he was touchy, and you won’t admit it.”
“it was one fucking photo! he happened to be next to me! where did you want him to put his hands?”
“anywhere else! not your waist! it’s fucking weird!”
“so you’re mad at me because of the way a guy acted towards me.” you say, sitting down on your bed and mimicking his move of crossing his arms. “that’s really fucking progressive of you.”
“oh my god, you know that’s not true. jesus christ. i’m not mad, im just fucking annoyed. and i don’t like how you acted either.”
“how did i act hamzah. you weren’t even fucking there.” you start to feel tears prick your eyes. you hate crying in front of him, you rarely do. but this was so frustrating, listening to him accuse you when you only love him.
“i still saw.” he mumbles, clearly losing what he was trying to say in the first place. he’s just spitballing stuff at this point.
he isn’t even looking at you any more. his eyes meet the floor and he’s breathing so hard you can hear it just barely. he’s close enough to where you could reach out to his arm and pull him on top of you. you won’t though.
“saw what? my tiny skirt?” you laugh, baffled. “just leave me alone.” you can feel some of the tears start to fall.
he looks up at you when he hears your voice break. his eyes soften their gaze but he stays where he’s standing. it’s silent for a moment before you speak again.
“go away, hamzah.” you say, moving your position to lay down, your face turned away from him.
“no. i wanna talk.”
you’re silent.
“y/n-“
“i said go away.” you mumble between sobs.
you’re stiff for a long moment before you hear him sigh. he turns and leaves your room, and you wait till you hear the door click before really letting yourself sob.
you’d dealt with this in the past - controlling relationships where anything you did around any ex was considered suspicious. in fact, you almost didn’t go last night. but you’d wanted to catch up with your old friends. if it was up to you, you wouldn’t have had your ex there either. he was a total jerk back in the day. but he was, and it was fine. you’d barely spoken outside of taking that group picture.
you don’t want to fight with hamzah. he’s your person. but the way he’s acting is scary.
eventually you decide you need some air. you get dressed, throw on some makeup, and head out the door. you don’t know where you’re going, but you know it needs to be away from here. away from him.
he jumps up from the couch and catches your wrist right before you can turn the knob. you whip your head around, and meet his eyes. he looks just as pissed as before.
“where are you going?” he asks, still gripping you hard
“what, do i need your permission to leave the fucking house now?” you bite back, wriggling our arm free, “get off me. i’ll be back later.”
he starts to protest, but you slam the door before you hear any of it. if you had any fucks left to give, youd tear up again. at this point though, you’ve had enough. if he wanted to be like this, you weren’t gonna entertain it.
the city’s relatively walkable, so that’s what you do. there’s plenty of stuff to do around the area. retail therapy, you think. whatever makes you forget about this argument for a while.
-
it’s late when you walk home. later than the night before, and later than you’d ever been out without calling. you and hamzah had one another’s location, so really, he could see anytime where you were. which was the outdoor mall, and then the local bar. you’d only had a few drinks, but you were there for a good two hours. just talking and talking to the bartender. you guys are friends, and she was a good listener. so she listened.
“he’s just being so mean. and like, he’s never mean. sometimes we argue and stuff, but it’s always over stupid stuff, you know? and like, we make up super quick. but he’s like, so mad at me. and i swear to god, i didn’t even do anything.”
“it’s his first real relationship, right?” she asks, while pouring a drink
“yeah. i guess maybe that’s why. i just like, never thought he’d be like this. all jealous.”
“i think most guys are, honestly. or at least, the insecure ones. either way though, he shouldn’t be acting that way. i’m glad you got out to clear your head.”
you nod and take a sip. you’re tipsy, you realize. it actually feels pretty nice though. letting loose to someone like this. you should be talking to hamzah, but he doesn’t seem to want to listen. you sigh and shake your head like it’ll clear the thoughts away.
when you walk through the door, the house is silent. it’s nearly one am, so you assume at first that hamzah fell asleep. that is until you’re going to hang your jacket up and hear him open the bedroom door. you press your eyes closed, ready for the reprimanding.
“you scared the shit out of me.”
you turn around to face him, and his eyebrows are knit together. he’s in the doorway, his arms crossed and his back against the doorframe. he chews at his lip.
“sorry.” you mumble, going to take your shoes off.
“sorry?” he scoffs, uncrossing his arms and using them as he speaks, “you were out for hours, y/n!”
“i told you i’d be back later.” you don’t look at him, don’t step forward. you stand there, your arms pressed against our chest, holding yourself tight.
“that’s all i get then? not even a text? what the fuck, y/n.” his nostrils flare as he talks, and he starts moving closer to you. “I had no idea if you were safe! you could have gotten fucking killed.”
you laugh, moving your head back like you can’t believe what he’s saying. though honestly - he’s right. the city can be sketchy, especially at night. you seldom went on walks without him this late. especially drunk. which, he hasn’t seemed to notice you are yet.
“killed? come on.”
“don’t act like that’s crazy to say. the streets are dangerous. you know that!” he’s in your face now, motioning with his hands. “seriously, y/n, what the fuck.”
you flinch as he raises his hands in exclamation.
“so you’re mad again, great.” before you know it, you’re crying again.
you hold yourself tighter as tears start to fall. you feel like a little kid, just standing there helpless. the drinks are really getting you now.
hamzah is silent for a minute as you sob. he stands so close to you, but doesn’t dare move. when you finally look up at him, his gaze has softened and his hands are in his pockets. he reaches out slowly to brush your hair out of your face, looking at you like he’s waiting for protest. instead, you lean into his hand on your cheek.
he stares at you for a moment and you can’t tell how he feels. his eyes scan your features, landing on your lips, which are quivering just slightly. after a few moments of just looking at one another, he puts his arms out, offering a hug.
you fall against his chest and start sobbing all over again.
he rubs circles into your back absent-mindly, whispering little “shhs”. you don’t even thin of how angry you were today. how mean he was. you just cry and let him hold you. he pulls you two apart and goes to hold your face in his palms.
“how much did you drink,baby? " he asks, wiping a tear.
“not that much. just like, a few.”
“a few what?”
“mmm seltzers?” you say, more of a question than an answer.
he sighs.
“okay. well, i think you should go to bed, yeah?”
your eyes scan his face, searching for whatever emotion he’s hiding. surely he’s still angry. you hold onto both his arms while you speak.
“hamzah.”
“yeah?”
“i don’t like my high school boyfriend.”
“i know.”
he presses his eyes shut tight. his chest rises and falls slowly and before you can argue that he clearly doesn’t know, he speaks again.
“i was gonna apologize when you got home.”
“but now you’re mad again.” you say, pouting
“not about that. and i’m not mad, y/n, i was worried. you were gone for five hours without a text or anything.”
“m’sorry.” you mumble, pressing your head against his chest again.
“let’s go to bed, okay?”
he strokes your hair as you breath in his scent. he’s warm, and it hits you how tired you are. Ou nod softly against him and before you know it, he’s picking you up and carrying you to bed. giggling, you land with a plop. he joins you and holds you tight.
“we can talk more tomorrow, yeah. you deserve a better apology but i have a feeling you won’t remember much of it if i tell you now.”
you nod, scooting back to press your back against his chest. he kisses your shoulder. you fall asleep.
-
i hope you guys enjoyed >.< requests are open
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blog-o-meter · 17 days ago
Text
sweetdreams - Nicholas Alexander Chavez x fem!reader
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summary: Aching for some release, Nicholas finds himself browsing a cam site and stops dead when he recognizes a familiar bedroom on one of the thumbnails.
warnings: 18+, camgirl, masturbation, exhibitionism
required listening: n/a
word count: 6,195
a/n: eek, I've been sitting on this one for a bit - I'm not even sure why. but I like it, it was fun to write LMAO also rip TikTok. I deleted the app over a year ago bc it destroyed my brain but ik lots of ppl still love that app so rip I guess. anyway lmk if you liked this one! I have a few more fics but idkkkk
reblogs, likes, and replies are greatly appreciated and let me know if you'd like to see more!
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The glow of my laptop screen on the bed illuminated the cozy pale purple walls of my bedroom. The fairy lights hanging along the fabric draping the backside of my bed added a soft warmth to the otherwise dimly lit space with a few tapered candles here and there on my nightstand and dresser to set the mood. I adjusted the camera perched on the tripod next to my desk, angling it toward my bed where the sheets were already perfectly rumpled by design.
I didn't do it because I needed the money. I always paid my bills on time — rent, utilities, student loans, cellphone, gas, insurance, and groceries — but my entire paycheck would go to just that. And no matter how much I tried to break up my checks or stagger payment dates, the same thing always happened: I never had enough money to splurge on myself. I wanted the money. So bad.
There were so many things I wanted to buy for myself, so many trips and concerts and restaurants I wanted to be able to experience, but I never could, not unless I saved up the little leftover money I’d have for myself for months and months at a time just to be able to accompany my friends to a mid-scale restaurant. It was a little embarrassing for me, frankly. I just wanted to be able to be with them during all those moments, not sitting at home bored with incredible FOMO.
That’s why I decided to start camming on the side.
I didn’t do it frequently, just when I anticipated buying something I had been wanting — like a nice pair of boots or some furniture — or wanted to go out with friends, and it wasn’t an easy decision for me to make either. I spent close to a year mulling it over, really weighing my options, and honestly, it was the only one I was comfortable enough to explore, surprisingly.
I mean, I masturbated anyway. It was in the privacy of my room with no audience, sure, but why do something for free when you could be making some money out of it? And all I had to do to hide my identity was get a second bank account, move all of the identifying pictures out of the way, buy myself a nice, sexy mask that obscured a majority of my face, and stream on an out-of-the-way cam site I was sure most of the people in my life would not be privy to.
At first, it was incredibly intimidating. My sex life was borderline nonexistent, and I was basically about to expose myself to strangers on the internet. I could barely speak during my first stream, but over time I became more comfortable with my movements and my voice — almost confident, even. But that didn’t mean I still didn’t get nervous before every stream, like now.
As I laid on my bed and pulled the black lace mask over my face, I let out a slow, steadying breath, fingers hovering over the trackpad of my laptop, the cursor teasing the ‘Go Live’ button. And then I clicked it. 
sweetdream is live.
On the other side of town, Nicholas came home exhausted, but most of all frustrated. Shooting had been absolutely brutal this week, and the constant tension in his body was driving him insane. It didn’t help that he barely had any time to go out with his friends or even entertain the girls in his DMs and maybe hook up with one of them to blow off some steam.
But he didn’t want to deal with any of that right now. He was just so exhausted; how could he possibly have the energy to even pretend to be interested in whatever conversation his friends or those girls had to say? He wanted something here, something now.
Nicholas tossed his keys onto the kitchen counter and kicked off his shoes, running a hand through his hair as he made his way over to the fridge and reached in for a nice, cold beer before retreating to his room. The familiar solitude of his apartment felt suffocating tonight, the silence amplifying the ache in his chest and the tension coiling low in his stomach. He threw himself onto his bed, letting out a quiet groan as he reached for his laptop on the nightstand and set down his beer with a dull thud.
He hadn’t forayed into the world of internet porn in over month, but he did it like clockwork — reaching into his nightstand drawer for his wired headphones and sticking them into his MacBook’s audio jack before carefully placing the laptop over his thighs and waking it to life.
Nicholas’s fingers hovered over the keyboard as his thumb rubbed over the trackpad, opening a private window and typing in all of the familiar site names — PornHub, Xhamster, XVideos, hell, even XNXX. He scrolled for a bit on each, hoping at least one video might catch his attention and fully awaken his half-hard cock, but none of them were hitting the way he wanted — needed — tonight.
They all seemed too polished, now. Way too much makeup and studio lights. Makeup and studio lights was all he worked with on set, and the last thing he wanted was to jerk off to work. Frustrated, he closed the tabs one by one. He needed something different — something raw, something real.
He didn’t visit cam sites often, but when he did, they delivered exactly what he was looking for. Something authentic. So, without any hesitation, he clicked through his bookmarks and clicked the out-of-the-way cam site he had come across months and months ago deep in the pages of Google.
Nicholas leaned back against the headboard, the familiar homepage of the cam site loading in front of him, colorful and bright and borderline blinding, the screen illuminating his face and reflecting off his wooden headboard. A variety of thumbnails greeted him, showing live streams in progress. Women of all shapes and sizes, their expressions ranging from coy to confident, teasing the camera.
He scrolled lazily past the wall of endless thumbnails, picking up his beer and taking a lazy swig as he sifted through, trying to find someone who caught his eye. Most were the same: over-the-top angles, exaggerated expressions. They all felt…off. Too staged. Too fake. They all blurred together, until one made him stop dead in his tracks.
His thumb froze mid-scroll, and he nearly choked on his beer, setting the bottle back down on his nightstand as he stared at the screen, his eyebrows furrowed at the tiny square. His cursor hovered over the thumbnail, magnifying it just a smidge.
The thumbnail was simple — cozy lighting, a tidy bedroom with a familiar-looking duvet cover, and a girl wearing a delicate pink satin lingerie set, her face obscured by a lace mask that looked like it had been plucked right out of a Venetian mask shop during Carnival. The room in the background had pale lavender walls, warm fairy lights adorning the wall where the headboard of the bed would be, and candles flickering in the background. It was all familiar. Way too familiar.
“No fucking way,” he muttered under his breath, the words rumbling at the back of his throat.
He leaned closer to the screen, his heart pounding in his chest. His fingers twitched over the trackpad before he clicked, the stream loading painfully slow as the rainbow wheel spun. He held his breath, his entire body tense as he waited for the image to appear.
And when it did, his stomach dropped.
It was her.
It was me.
The shy, sweet, (Y/N) he’d known for years. The girl who blushed when someone so much as mentioned a sex scene in a movie. The same girl who stumbled over her words anytime he called me ‘baby’ in that teasing tone he so loved to use. The girl that hasn’t been on so much as a real date in the time he’s known her.
I was sitting there on his screen, laying on my side and propping myself up by the elbow, dressed in soft pink satin lingerie, my body glowing under the warm light of my bedroom as I read chat. 
Nicholas’s breath caught in his throat, his heart hammering so loudly in his chest that he was certain it would burst. His eyes were glued to the screen, unwilling — or unable — to look away. He leaned in closer, the reality of what he was seeing crashing into him like a freight train.
My fingers lightly traced the satin straps of my bra, my voice soft as I spoke to the camera. The black lace mask obscured the top half of my face, but there was no mistaking it — it was me. My voice, my laugh, my nervous little gestures.
“My day was fine; thank you for asking,” I sheepishly smiled as I read a comment from chat, my finger tracing down to my leg, idly trailing up and down my hip, my voice thrumming through Nicholas’s headphones loud and clear.
“What the fuck,” Nicholas whispered to himself, his hand clenching into a fist against his thigh. He wasn’t half-hard anymore; he was hard as a fucking rock.
The chat on my screen lit up with messages, dozens of anonymous names firing off compliments, tips, and lewd suggestions. Nicholas’s stomach churned, a mix of guilt, confusion, and something darker coiling low in his gut. 
He should have closed the tab — hell, he should’ve slammed the laptop shut and never spoken of this to anyone — but he didn’t. Instead, he turned up the volume and watched.
Nicholas’s mind raced as he stared at the screen, unable to tear his eyes away. He should’ve stopped. Should’ve closed the tab. Should’ve shoved the laptop away. Hell, throw it across the room if that’s what it took to stop watching. But he didn’t.
Instead, his hand drifted lower, instinct overriding logic as his cock strained painfully against the fabric of his sweatpants.
I shifted on the bed, sitting back on my heels, the delicate pink satin stretching over my body as I leaned closer to the camera. My fingers brushed the lace of my mask before trailing down to the straps of my bra, teasing the edge.
“Let’s see,” I murmured, scanning the chat, my voice carrying a nervous lilt. “You want me to take my time tonight, huh?”
The chat box on my screen lit up with requests and donations, the little dings echoing faintly in the background. I leaned forward, my cleavage filling the frame as I adjusted the camera slightly.
“Thank you for the tip, Anonymous,” I said shyly, a smile tugging at my lips.
Nicholas’s chest tightened as his cock stirred in his jeans. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. The idea of me, his quiet, unassuming friend, doing something like this was utterly surreal, utterly impossible. It was impossibly hot.
Johnny88 donated $100: take off ur bra
The moment the donation notification lit up the chat, Nicholas’s jaw clenched. His hand froze mid-motion, hovering over the waistband of his sweatpants.
$100.
The chat was eating it up, emojis flooding the stream, accompanied by crude, explicit comments urging me to follow through. I hesitated for a moment, looking at the message on my laptop screen, my expression shy but playful.
“Wow… Thank you, Johnny88,” I murmured, my voice soft but steady, betraying a nervous edge. “Guess I don’t want to disappoint, huh?”
Nicholas’s breathing deepened, his cock aching as he watched me slowly slide the straps of my bra off my shoulders, my fingers trembling slightly as they trailed over my skin. I glanced at the chat again, clearly gauging my audience’s reaction.
His stomach churned with something primal, a mix of possessiveness and desire that made his head spin. He wanted to hate himself for watching, for indulging in this, but the truth was, he was riveted. Every little movement, every shy smile, every flicker of hesitation only made it worse. And then my hands reached around my back to undo the clasp and the bra came off.
Nicholas groaned under his breath as the satin slid down my arms, revealing my bare chest to the camera. My hands instinctively moved to cover myself at first, but then, slowly, I let them drop, exposing myself completely.
I bit my lip, my hand beginning to knead at my breast, a little whimper escaping my lips as I pinched my hard nipple. “Is this what you wanted?” I asked, almost teasingly.
Nicholas’s breathing hitched, his hand clenching into a fist against the mattress as his other slowly moved to hook itself around his waistband. The sound of my voice, soft and teasing, sent a jolt straight through him. He felt like the biggest fucking pervert alive, but he couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to.
My fingers teased the hem of my panties, my hand brushing over the top of my center as I sat on my knees in front of the camera, waiting for a little more donations to roll in before deciding to pull them off. 
Nicholas’s hand trembled slightly as he lifted his hips up slightly to pull down his sweatpants along with his Nike briefs to free himself, his throbbing erection springing out. He hated himself for how hard he was, for the way his body reacted to every soft, breathy sound I made, but god, he was transfixed, his eyes locked on the screen as I teased the camera, my fingers toying with the waistband of my panties.
The sound of a new donation chimed through the speakers. Another request. My eyes flicked to the laptop screen, and a shy smile curled on my lips as I read the message aloud.
“Anonymous tipped $100. Hmm…” I hesitated, my voice dropping to a near whisper. “Panties off, huh?”
Nicholas’s jaw clenched as I kneeled in front of the camera, my chest moving out of the top of the frame as the image of my panties filled the screen. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my panties and tugged them down just enough to tease. My movements were deliberate, slow, and sensual, and Nicholas’s hand moved instinctively to wrap his pulsing length.
I slipped the panties lower, finally revealing myself completely to the camera. I maneuvered myself on the bed to pull my underwear out from under my feet before dangling it in front of the camera to show my viewers the large damp spot, quietly giggling. “God, look how wet I am already,” I whispered, more to myself than to my audience.
The chat exploded with comments. Compliments, pleas, and donations rolled in, but Nicholas barely registered them. He groaned, his hand tightening around his cock as he watched me. “Fuck, (Y/N),” he muttered under his breath, his voice thick with arousal as he started to stroke himself, his eyes fluttering shut before opening again. The sight of me, naked and confident, teasing the camera with that shy giggle, had him utterly captivated.
I reached for something out of frame, my trustee delicate pale pink rabbit vibrator, and settled back on the bed, glancing at the camera with a shy, almost apologetic smile. “I thought I’d… try something new tonight,” you said, your voice trembling just enough to make his cock ache.
Nicholas couldn’t help the groan that rumbled low in his throat as he watched me turn the vibrator over in my hands, inspecting it like it was new to me, even though I knew exactly what I was doing. Every movement was calculated to tease, to entice, and fuck, it was working.
His strokes quickened as I brought the toy closer to my mouth, running my tongue over the tip before sucking it gently. His eyes darkened, his breathing heavy as he imagined those soft lips of mine wrapped around him instead.
Love69 donated $50: wish that was me
“Fuck off,” Nicholas gritted his teeth at the donation, his jaw tightening as his hand worked his cock faster, the sight of me teasing the camera sending a wave of heat straight through him. The jealousy coiled low in his gut as the chat lit up with messages, strangers clamoring for my attention, showering me with tips and crude remarks.
The donation pulled a soft, breathy laugh from my lips, and I tilted my head, looking directly at the camera. “Oh, do you?” I murmured, my voice dripping with a mix of innocence and teasing. I ran my tongue along the length of the vibrator again, swirling it slowly before pulling it away, letting it hover just above my lips. “Sorry, Love. I’m imagining someone else.”
Nicholas froze, his hand gripping his cock mid-stroke as the words left my lips. The soft, teasing tone in my voice sent a shiver through his entire body, but it was the words themselves that hit him like a truck. The idea of me thinking about someone else while putting on this show, teasing, and playing for the camera — it was both maddening and painfully arousing.
His jaw clenched, and a low, guttural sound rumbled from his throat as he stroked himself harder, his frustration and desire tangling into something almost primal.
Who the fuck was I imagining?
The thought shouldn’t have mattered. This was a fantasy, an act. I was catering to an audience of strangers, faceless men who threw money at me for a show. But the way I said it — the soft lilt in my voice, the way I bit my lip, my eyes flicking to the camera with a hint of mischief — felt too real. It felt personal.
With his free hand, Nicholas reached into the front pocket of his sweatpants, fumbling to pull out his wallet. “Let’s make you talk, baby,” he whispered to himself as he pulled out his debit card with one hand, placing it between his teeth as he tossed his wallet aside.
Nicholas’s fingers trembled as he typed in his card information, his chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. He’d never done this before — never donated, never left any comments in chats, never tried to interact with anyone on these sites — but tonight was different. I was different. He needed to know. He needed to push.
His cursor hovered over the donation button for a moment before he clicked it, his heart pounding in his chest as he typed out his message. It wasn’t flashy or crude like the others; it was pointed, deliberate. He hit send.
NC17 donated $50: Who are you imagining, baby?
The donation notification popped up on my screen, and I froze, my eyes widening slightly behind the lace mask. I could feel the flush on my neck creep to my cheeks. Nicholas smirked, his hand wrapping around his cock again as he watched me squirm. He could tell I was thrown off, that the question had hit a little too close to home. The way I hesitated, the slight nervous laugh — it only made him harder.
I shifted on the bed, the rabbit vibrator still in my hand as I trailed it over my nipple, glancing at the chat hesitantly. “NC17, thank you,” I smiled nervously, a tiny moan escaping my lips as the vibrator worked the tip of my nipple on a low setting before dragging it down my stomach, then between my legs. “That’s a secret,” I replied breathily before smiling softly, “Funny username, though,” my voice had softened, carrying a teasing edge, but Nicholas caught the crack in it.
Nicholas’s smirk deepened, his hand moving faster along his length as he watched me squirm on screen. That crack in my voice wasn’t just from the teasing act — I  was flustered, genuinely caught off guard, and that knowledge sent a rush of satisfaction through him.
Funny username, huh? Of course, I wouldn’t recognize it. But he’d made me pause.
Nicholas’s free hand hovered over the keyboard again. His initial hesitation was gone now, replaced with something more daring, more possessive. He wanted to push further, wanted to see just how much I would let slip under the guise of anonymity.
NC17 donated $100: Spread those legs wider, baby. Does he know you think about him?
I bit my lip at the donation, my cheeks boiling hot as I obliged the viewer’s request. I spread my legs at the knees, giving the camera a perfect view of my my self. Nicholas’s breath hitched as he watched her glistening folds on full display. I let out a soft, shaky moan as I spread myself open with one hand and led the vibrator to my clit with the other. “No, he doesn’t,” I moaned as my eyes fluttered shut, my back arching against the pillows.
Nicholas groaned audibly at the sound of my voice vibrating in his ears, his hand gripping his cock with a newfound intensity as the words left my mouth. The admission echoed in his head, feeding the dark coil of desire and jealousy tightening in his chest. His strokes quickened as he watched me writhe on the screen, the vibrator pressed against my swollen clit as I let out a series of soft, breathy moans.
The possessiveness inside him surged. He couldn’t stop himself now, couldn’t tear his eyes away from the way my body moved, from the way I responded to the toy teasing me mercilessly. His free hand hovered over the keyboard, his need to push me further overriding any guilt or hesitation he might have felt.
NC17 donated $100: do you know him?
I read the donation but threw my head back in pleasure before I could answer, audibly moaning at the sensation of the vibrator circling my entrance while my free hand kneaded at my breast. “Uh-huh,” I whimpered.
ilike2fuck: stretch yourself out
cheekybasstard: god ur so perfect
m1lfluvr: fuuuck
Nicholas’s breath caught as he saw me falter, my body arching on the bed as I moaned in response to the chat’s demands. His grip tightened on himself, his strokes growing more erratic as he watched the screen. The way I answered his question, breathless and soft, set his mind ablaze. The way I whimpered, the way I let the vibrator tease me, was driving him insane. He wasn’t just watching now — he was consuming me, feeding on every sound, every movement.
My hands stilled for a moment, and I reached off-screen, grabbing a small bottle of lube from my nightstand. The slick sound of it being poured into my hand sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through Nicholas’s body, his cock twitching in his hand as he watched me stroke the vibrator with the jelly. “Not that I need it, but it never hurts,” I spoke quietly as I watched my hand spread the jelly over my cute toy.
“Shit,” Nicholas groaned through gritted teeth, his thumb brushing over the swollen head of his cock with every slick stroke.
His mind was racing, trying to piece my answer together. His stomach twisted with a mix of jealousy, desire, and something dangerously close to satisfaction. I knew him, whoever he was. Was it someone I worked with? Someone in our mutual circle? Or — god forbid — someone I was secretly seeing? The idea made his grip tighten, his strokes becoming rougher as his possessiveness took over.
His fingers flew over the keyboard, barely giving himself a moment to think.
NC17 donated $100: Tell me about him.
I leaned back against the pillows as I silently read his donation, the vibrator gliding slowly over my folds before dipping inside, my moan trembling and raw. “Fuck,” I whimpered, throwing my head back as my mouth fell open. “He’s… so fucking hot,” I breathed through my moans, inserting the entire vibrator into myself slowly before taking it out again and repeating the process. “God, so hot.”
The chat erupted in a flurry of commands and compliments, the dings of donations coming in a constant rhythm.
Nicholas’s jaw clenched as I moaned those words, his strokes faltering for a second before he tightened his grip and picked up his pace.
So fucking hot.
The way I said it, the way my voice cracked and my body arched on the screen, sent a surge of heat through him. But the thought of who I was talking about — the mystery man in my head — had his chest tightening with jealousy.
“Not good enough,” Nicholas muttered to himself, his eyes darkening as he watched me keep my answers vague.
His hand paused on his cock as he stared at the screen, his breathing heavy. His free hand hovered over the keyboard, typing furiously before sending another donation.
NC17 donated $150: What does he do to make you so wet?
Johnny88 donated $100: fuck yourself from behind
Nicholas’s jaw was tight as his donation slid to the top of the chat in bold. He watched my lips curl into a small smile, my cheeks flushing as I rolled myself over on my knees, lifting my hips in the air while I rested my face on the pillows, back arched to the max. I angled my head to look back over my shoulder to keep reading chat while I guided my vibrator under me, giving the camera the most salacious angle as I continued working myself.
“He’s so fucking cocky,” I whimpered, the words spilling from my lips as the toy disappeared inside me. “And he always calls me ‘baby.’”
Nicholas’s head fell back against the headboard at my confession, his free hand gripping the sheets beside him as he watched me. It was him. I was talking about him. And the realization sent a jolt of primal desire coursing through his body.
His strokes grew faster, more desperate, as I buried the vibrator inside me, my body trembling slightly with the sensation. My moans started to grow louder, more uninhibited. I whimpered, my free hand gripping the sheets as I teetered on the edge. “Shit,” I gasped, my body arching as I pushed the vibrator even deeper, the pleasure overwhelming. “Yes, yes—oh, fuck. Right there.”
Nicholas clenched his jaw, his strokes matching the rhythm of my movements on screen. His chest heaved, his mind consumed by the image of me — his sweet, shy friend — coming apart in front of him. Every moan, every gasp, every broken cry of pleasure drove him closer to the edge.
“God— sh—,” he groaned under his breath, his hand tightening around his dick. He muttered endless curses under his breath as I thrusted the vibrator in and out, my glistening slickness catching the light from my laptop and candles just perfectly. He couldn’t stop. Not now.
On screen, my body tensed, my back arching as the vibrator brought me closer and closer to release. “God, yes,” I whimpered, my voice trembling. “He’s so—fuck—so perfect.”
Nicholas’s eyes darkened, his grip tightening as he leaned closer to the screen, his other hand trembling as he typed another message, desperate to push me further.
NC17 donated $200: Tell me how you want him, baby.
The donation notification flashed on the screen, bold and demanding. My breath hitched audibly, my gaze flicking to the chat. My cheeks flushed behind the mask, my lips parting as if to speak, but the words caught in my throat.
The chat exploded with messages, urging me to answer, but Nicholas only cared about one thing — my reaction. He could see the hesitation, the nervous flicker in my expression as I glanced at the camera. And then, finally, I spoke.
“I want him everywhere,” I whispered, my voice breathy and raw. My free hand trembled as it gripped the sheets tighter. “I want him to kiss me, touch me, take control… I want him to fuck me so hard I forget my own name.”
Nicholas let out a low, guttural groan, his hips bucking into his hand as my words pushed him to the brink. I whimpered on screen, my body trembling as the vibrator worked me relentlessly. “Yes,” I gasped, my voice breaking as I teetered on the edge. “Fuck—I’m all his. Only his. S-so close,” I muffled into the pillows.
Nicholas’s strokes grew frantic, his breathing ragged as he felt himself losing control. He couldn’t stop now, not when I was so close, not when the thought of being the one to make me fall apart consumed him.
NC17 donated $500: say his name when you finish and I’ll double it
My moans hitched at the sight of the donation flashing across the screen. My chest heaved as I pressed the vibrator even harder against myself, the vibrations sending shockwaves through my body. The chat went wild, messages flooding in, but all I could focus on was that one donation — that one command.
Say his name.
My fingers trembled, my grip on the toy faltering for a moment as I let out a shaky breath. My body burned with pleasure, my mind spinning with a thousand thoughts, and yet, all of them led back to him. My lips parted, but no sound came out at first. The knot in my stomach tightened, my thighs quivering as I teetered on the edge of release.
Nicholas’s hand froze mid-stroke, his entire body tense and his cock pulsing — begging for friction — as he waited. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his heart pounding like a drum in his ears. He leaned closer to the screen, his grip on himself almost painful as he hung on to my every movement, every sound.
“Come on, baby,” he whispered under his breath, continuing to stroke himself slowly as he leaned back against the pillows. “Say it. Say my fucking name. I know you can do it.”
My entire body trembled, the heat building inside me threatening to consume every last thought in my mind. The chat blurred in my peripheral vision as my head fell back, a low, guttural moan escaping my lips. The vibrator pulsed against my clit, my hips moving in time with its rhythm as I teetered dangerously close to the edge.
Nicholas’s name burned on the tip of my tongue, the demand in the donation rattling around in my head. The promise of doubling the already insane amount made my breath hitch, but it wasn’t just about the money — it was him. His name. The thought of saying it out loud while I came, letting it slip for somebody’s entertainment when I have only ever yelled it for myself, made my pulse race.
I gasped sharply, my hips bucking as the vibrator hit just the right spot. “Yes,” I moaned, my voice high and breathy, trembling with need. My free hand gripped the sheets tighter, my body writhing on the bed as I edged closer and closer. “Oh, fuck. I’m—”
Nicholas clenched his jaw, his strokes quickening. His cock throbbed in his hand, pre-cum slicking his length as he watched me come undone. The chat was exploding with comments, but he didn’t care about any of them. All he cared about was me — and that donation.
I buried my face in the pillow for a moment, muffling a desperate, trembling moan as the vibrations coursed through me, pushing me closer to the edge. My entire body was taut, teetering between pleasure and release, the tension unbearable. Lifting my head slightly, I turned toward the camera, my cheeks flushed deep red beneath the lace mask.
And then it happened.
The knot in my stomach snapped, and a loud, raw cry tore from my lips. My body arched, every muscle trembling as waves of pleasure crashed over me. “Nicholas!” I cried out, my voice breaking as I came, his name spilling from my lips like it was the most natural thing in the world, because it was. My entire body convulsed and dropped onto the bed, violently trembling from pure pleasure.
Nicholas froze, his entire body locking up as the sound of his name filled his headphones. “I—Fuck!” Nicholas’s eyes fluttered shut as he growled, his hand gripping himself tightly as my orgasm unraveled in front of him. My moans, my trembling thighs, the way I arched my back and collapsed onto the bed in the aftershocks — it was too much, and he let go.
A guttural groan tore from his throat, his cock twitching in his hand as he came, his release spilling over his fist and shirt in hot, sticky spurts. His head fell back against the headboard, his breathing ragged and heart pounding against his ribs as he rode out the waves of his orgasm, utterly spent. “Good girl,” he quietly panted.
When he opened his eyes, I was still trembling and avoiding the camera’s gaze, my body slowly relaxing as I came down from the high. My cheeks were flushed, my breathing heavy, my hair a little mussed from the mask’s elastic band slipping off just so, and there was a small, satisfied smile tugging at my lips. “Fuck, that was amazing,” I whispered.
Nicholas reached for a box of tissues on his nightstand and wiped his hand and tried to clean as much of his shirt as he could, then reached for the beer bottle on his nightstand and took a swig to quench his thirst, a small smirk on the corner of his lips.
I reached for a tissue from the nightstand, cleaning up the toy and myself before glancing back at the camera. The chat lit up with more comments and donations, all of them praising my performance but I only had one thing on my mind.
“Where’s that donation you promised, NC17?” I asked with a coy smile, rolling over on my stomach and tossing my vibrator aside.
Nicholas chuckled under his breath, his chest still rising and falling heavily. He shook his head, leaning forward to type on the keyboard. He typed in the payment details again, adding the promised donation with a smirk tugging at his lips. His cursor hovered over the “send” button for a beat longer than necessary before he clicked it.
NC17 donated $1,000: You earned it, baby. Don’t spend it all at once.
The notification flashed on my screen, bold and unmistakable. My eyes widened slightly and I froze, my breath hitching audibly as I stared at the amount. The most I had ever made in a single stream — in a single donation. The chat immediately erupted with reactions, some congratulatory, others envious that it hadn’t been them to make the donation, but I barely noticed them.
“Holy shit,” I breathed, sitting up slightly and brushing my hair back, my fingers trembling as I adjusted the mask that had slipped slightly during the stream. “NC17, you are the best. Oh, my god! Thank you, thank you, thank you. That’s… wow. You’re amazing.”
Nicholas leaned back against the headboard, his smirk deepening as he watched my reaction. The way my voice trembled with gratitude, the way I bit my lip nervously — it was all too much, too intoxicating. It sent a thrill through him, knowing he was the one making me react like that.
“Damn straight,” he muttered to himself, running a hand through his damp hair as he reached for his beer again. He took a long swig, his eyes never leaving the screen as I began to wind down the stream. His chest still heaved slightly, his body thrumming with the aftershocks of everything that had just happened.
“I think that’s it for tonight,” I said softly, my voice carrying that familiar mix of shyness and playfulness. “Thank you all for being here. And thank you again, NC17. You’ve been… incredible.” My eyes flicked to the chat one last time, lingering on his username before I smiled and waved. “Goodnight, everybody. Sweet dreams,” I blew a kiss to the camera.
sweetdream has ended the stream.
With that, I leaned forward and ended the stream, the screen fading to black. I sat back against my headboard, letting out a shaky breath as I pulled off the lace mask. My cheeks were still flushed, my heart pounding in my chest as I stared at the laptop, the donation total lingering in the corner of the screen.
Across town, Nicholas shut his own laptop with a quiet click and pulled off his earphones, tossing both aside and running a hand down his face once reality started to creep back in. He’d just crossed a line — one he couldn’t uncross. He’d watched me, his friend, in a way that was impossible to forget. And worse, I’d said his name. Called out for him while I fell apart on camera, in front of God knows how many strangers. Even worse, he’d dropped over two thousand dollars just to see it happen.
He ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tightening. He knew he’d have to face me eventually. Knew he wouldn’t be able to keep this secret forever. But for now, he let the smirk linger, his mind already spinning with how to handle the situation.
“Sweet dreams, baby,” he muttered under his breath, his voice low and teasing as he reached for his beer.
334 notes · View notes
wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 16 days ago
Note
Hello 0w0
Can I request a fic about stalker and future kidnapper Agatha Harkness x fem! reader? Perhaps reader's personal belongings have been disappearing. Eventually, Agatha kidnaps reader and apologizes for stealing reader’s belongings but stresses that since you will now live together forever, she will return reader’s belongings
Her Prize.
Stalker!Agatha Harkness x fem!reader
Word count: 2K
Summary: Things of yours start to go missing you believe it to just be your normal forgetfulness, but something is off...
Warnings: MDNI, 18+ due to themes, kidnaping, stalking, Stockholm Syndrome, non-consensual restraints, emotional distress, power imbalance, Agatha having powers implied but never stated
Authors notes: I had a lot of fun writing this thank you for the request~
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The strange occurrences began weeks ago. Small items—your favorite scarf, a cherished book, even a mug you loved—started vanishing from your apartment. At first, you chalked it up to forgetfulness, but the unease grew when you noticed nothing else seemed out of place.
Agatha had been watching you for months, her obsession blossoming from admiration to something darker. She couldn't help herself; you were a beacon of warmth and innocence in her otherwise lonely world. Stealing your belongings had been a way to feel closer to you, to keep pieces of you in her home.
But that wasn't enough.
The night she took you, she was meticulous. The chloroform barely left a mark, and when you awoke, you were in a lavishly decorated room filled with your missing items.
"I'm sorry for taking these from you," Agatha murmured, kneeling beside your bed. Her voice was soft, almost tender. "But now that you're here, you'll have them back. You'll have everything back. Because this is your home now, forever.”
You stared at her, your heart pounding like a drum in your chest. Your eyes darted around the room, taking in the stolen items—your scarf draped neatly over a chair, your book on a nightstand, even the mug sitting pristinely on a shelf as if it belonged there all along. It was surreal, a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from.
“What... what the hell is this?” you finally stammered, your voice trembling as you tried to press your back further into the headboard. “Who are you? Why am I here?”
Agatha’s lips curved into a gentle, almost pitying smile. “Shh, darling. Don’t be afraid,” she said, her tone dripping with faux reassurance. She reached out as if to touch your hand but paused when you flinched. “You’re safe now. With me. No one will ever hurt you again.”
“You kidnapped me!” you shouted, the sharpness of your voice surprising even yourself. You yanked your hands away, curling them protectively in your lap. “This isn’t safety! This is—this is insane!”
Her expression flickered, the smile faltering for a fraction of a second before she regained her composure. “I know it might feel that way now,” she said, crouching lower as if trying to meet your eyes. “But you’ll see. In time, you’ll understand. This world—it’s cruel, cold. People don’t appreciate you the way I do.”
She gestured around the room. “Look at this, my darling. I’ve cared for you from afar for so long. Everything here, everything I’ve done, is for you. So we can finally be together.”
“You had no right!” you snapped, tears welling in your eyes. “To take my things. To take me! I don’t even know you!”
Agatha sighed, a hint of frustration creeping into her tone as she straightened up. “You will. You’ll know me better than anyone else ever could. You’ll see that I’m the only one who truly understands you.” She leaned closer, her gaze intense, yet oddly tender. “And when you realize that, my sweet girl, you’ll thank me for saving you.”
Her words sent a chill down your spine, and panic clawed at your chest. You scrambled off the bed, backing toward the door, but Agatha moved faster, blocking your path with an unsettling calm.
“I didn’t want to frighten you,” she murmured, almost regretful. “But you leave me no choice.” Her hand reached for your arm, her grip firm yet careful as if handling a delicate object. “You’ll learn to love me, darling. And I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted. You’ll never have to feel alone again.”
Tears streaked down your face as you struggled against her hold, the realization sinking in that you weren’t leaving anytime soon. Agatha’s smile returned, softer this time, as if she were comforting a child.
“Don’t cry,” she whispered, pulling you close despite your resistance. “You’re mine now. And I’ll never let you go.”
Your mind raced as Agatha held you close, her arms strong and unyielding despite the gentleness in her touch. You couldn’t let this be your reality. Not here, not with her.
Over the next few hours—or maybe days, you weren’t sure—you pretended to cooperate, nodding and murmuring vague responses to Agatha’s reassurances. All the while, you watched and waited, scanning the room and her movements for any chance to escape.
Then it came. She’d left the room to retrieve something—food, you thought, though you weren’t hungry—and the door had been left ajar. You bolted without hesitation, your bare feet silent against the hardwood floor as you darted down an unfamiliar hallway.
The house was vast and eerily quiet, filled with antique furniture and heavy curtains that blocked out any natural light. Your heart pounded as you tried door after door, only to find them locked.
“Darling?” Agatha’s voice echoed, calm and almost playful. The sound froze you in place. “What are you doing, hm? You know you can’t leave.”
You didn’t respond, forcing your legs to move again, faster this time. But just as you reached a staircase that seemed to lead downward, Agatha appeared at the top, her sharp eyes locking onto yours.
“Enough,” she said, her voice carrying an edge you hadn’t heard before.
You turned to run the other way, but she was quicker. With a flick of her wrist, she grabbed your arm, spinning you to face her. You struggled, kicking and clawing, but her grip was ironclad.
“I see we need to set some boundaries,” Agatha said, her tone firm but not angry. If anything, she sounded... disappointed. “I didn’t want it to come to this, but you’ve left me no choice.”
The next thing you knew, you were back in the room, sitting on the edge of the bed as Agatha knelt at your feet. Her touch was careful as she fastened a thick, padded shackle around your ankle, the chain attached to a sturdy bolt in the floor.
“It’s not forever,” she murmured, glancing up at you with a mixture of regret and resolve. “Just until you understand. This is for your safety, darling. And mine.”
You stared at her in disbelief, tears threatening to spill over again. “You can’t keep me like this,” you whispered, your voice hoarse.
“I can,” she replied simply, brushing her fingers lightly against your cheek before standing. “And I will. For as long as it takes.”
The chain was long enough for you to reach the small adjoining bathroom, but the room itself had no windows, and any furniture you might have used to pry the bolt loose was too heavy to move. Time became meaningless, the days—or nights—blurring together.
The only constant was Agatha. She was your only source of interaction, bringing you meals, books, and clothes, always speaking to you with the same calm, affectionate tone. She’d sit with you for hours, trying to engage you in conversation or stroking your hair when you refused to respond.
“You’ll adjust,” she’d say, her fingers combing through your hair. “You’re just overwhelmed now, but soon, you’ll see how much better life is with me.”
The days dragged on in monotony, and without realizing it, you began to adjust to your new reality. Agatha's presence, once suffocating, became a strange comfort. Her voice, her touch, her constant reassurances—it all seeped into your mind, easing the sharp edges of your resistance.
You didn’t notice when you stopped flinching at her touch or when the sound of her voice no longer made your chest tighten. Somewhere along the way, her absence during the day began to feel like an ache.
One evening, she brought you your usual meal—a warm bowl of soup and a slice of bread. She placed it gently on the table beside you, her gaze softer than you’d ever seen it.
“I need to run a few errands,” she said, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’ll be gone for a little while, but I promise I’ll be back soon.”
You nodded numbly, your eyes flickering to the door out of habit.
Then, she leaned down and pressed a kiss to your temple, a gesture so tender it made your breath catch. “Be good while I’m gone, darling,” she murmured.
Her words lingered long after she’d left. At first, you relished the quiet, the freedom of being truly alone. But as the hours turned into a day, then two, a gnawing anxiety began to settle in your chest.
What if something had happened to her? What if she wasn’t coming back?
You tried to shake the thought, pacing the small room with the length of the chain, but it didn’t help. The silence was oppressive, and the walls seemed to close in on you.
On the third day, you sat by the door, staring at the spot where she’d last stood. Your heart ached in a way you didn’t understand, a dull, persistent throb that left you restless and confused.
When you finally allowed yourself to admit it, the realization hit like a punch to the gut.
You missed her.
You missed the sound of her voice, the way she hummed softly as she set down your meals. You missed her touch, her presence, the way she always looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered.
Tears pricked at your eyes as you curled up on the bed, clutching one of the blankets she’d given you. The scent of her perfume still lingered faintly on the fabric, and you buried your face in it, your chest tightening with a mix of longing and fear.
“Agatha…” you whispered into the silence, your voice trembling. “Please come back.”
The days stretched on, and with each passing hour, the fear grew stronger. You weren’t sure what scared you more—that something had happened to her, or that she might never return.
On the fifth day, you were curled up on the bed, your legs drawn to your chest, staring blankly at the door. The ache in your chest had become unbearable, every creak of the house making you jump with anticipation. But it was always just the house settling, never her.
You had no appetite. The untouched meals from the past two days sat on the table, cold and forgotten. You couldn’t think of eating when the thought of her not coming back gnawed at your mind.
Then, late that evening, the sound of a key turning in the lock echoed through the quiet house. Your head snapped up, and before you could stop yourself, you bolted to the door, the chain pulling taut as you strained against it.
When the door opened, and Agatha stepped inside, you felt a wave of relief so overwhelming it nearly knocked you over. She looked tired, her hair slightly disheveled and her coat damp from the rain outside. But she was here. She was safe.
“Darling,” she said softly, closing the door behind her. Her brows furrowed as she took in your tear-streaked face and trembling form. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re back,” you choked out, your voice breaking. “You were gone for so long—I thought—I thought you weren’t coming back.”
Her expression softened, and she quickly crossed the room, dropping her bag on the floor. She knelt in front of you, her hands gently cupping your face as she tilted your chin up to meet her gaze.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she murmured, her thumb brushing away a stray tear. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
Your hands gripped her sleeves tightly, as if letting go would make her disappear. “You didn’t say how long you’d be gone. I thought something happened to you, or that you…” You trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.
“I would never leave you,” Agatha said firmly, her tone laced with an unshakable certainty. “You’re my everything. I just didn’t realize how much you’d miss me.”
You pressed your face into her shoulder, letting out a shaky breath as her arms wrapped around you. The relief of having her back was almost dizzying.
“I’m here now,” she whispered, her lips pressing softly against your temple. “And I promise, I won’t leave you like that again. I’ll always come back to you.”
Her words soothed the lingering fear in your chest, and for the first time in days, you felt a sense of peace. You didn’t even notice when you whispered, “I missed you,” against her shoulder.
Agatha smiled, a victorious gleam in her eyes as she held you closer. “I missed you too, my darling. More than you could ever know.”
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qqueenofhades · 7 months ago
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I think the Aaron Sorkin fic people are writing about the convention to be extremely silly. It's going to be Biden. And if Biden's health takes a downturn and he feels the need to step down its going tk be Harris. This fantasy where we skip over her to whip up two random white guys(or like maaaybe Witmer) and somehow cruise to victory instead of fragmenting the party months before the election is simply not going to happen.
Look, I'm just saying, I got an email from the Biden campaign this morning where they seemed pretty darn happy with the actual (i.e. not-bloviating media) results of the debate: $38 million raised in 4 days ($30 million from individual small-dollar donors), 10K new volunteers in a week, 3x surge in campaign volunteers for battleground states, essentially no change or even a modest boost in the polls. So I think at this point, we can cautiously conclude the following things:
The debate looked bad for Biden, perhaps, but doesn't seem to have hurt him nearly as much the incredibly bad-faith BIDEN NEEDS TO STEP DOWN NOW takes being pumped out by the NYT and its other compatriots would suggest. Especially when these same media outlets have been gleefully sabotaging Biden at every turn for years already and whose fake-sanctimonious hand-wringing "for the good of the nation" pieces honestly should get them dropped into Superhell for Bad Journalists;
Biden went to Raleigh NC right after the debate and gave a fiery rally speech that was very well received. Now, I don't know why we didn't have that Biden at the debate, but it was the same night and there clearly was not any "cOgnItiVe dEcLinE" happening there (also Biden has a stutter and has for literally his entire life, and had a cold on debate night, so it was just an unfortunate confluence of factors)
There are very few actually undecided voters in this election (once again: HOW???) and those who tuned into the debate were largely already convinced of which candidate they were voting for and this didn't do much to change their minds. Just like, you know, pretty much every other debate in the history of presidential elections.
Ordinary voters, and not mainstream media outlets with BIDEN IZ BAD goggles clamped over their eyes, were able to see Trump's insane Gish gallops, lies, and full-blown dementia; this isn't going to get any better for him when he's already lost 20%-25% of GOP voters in every state primary and still is going to be sentenced in his criminal trial;
The D.C. political elite screaming about how Biden should step down (FOUR MONTHS BEFORE THE ELECTION) and leave the Democrats to start from scratch with some Star Chamber-selected candidate with no money and no incumbency record and no organization apparatus and a divided party are either fucking weapons grade morons or working secretly for Trump, because that IS in fact the best way to lose the election;
Such speculation seems to fall chiefly on Gavin Newsom, who (to his credit) has shut down any and all suggestion that he should try to step in and take the place of an incumbent who has won every state primary with 90% or more, because he's remotely sane and understands that this year is too important to fuck around with;
I've somehow never seen any suggestion that Biden should step aside for the duly elected (brown, female) Vice President, because everyone seems to think some Young Miraculous White Guy is coming and/or should step in;
All this while SCOTUS is clearly so confident of Trump getting back in that it's willing to grant him Absolute God King status pre- and post-emptively;
Yes, Biden needs to up his game before the next debate (though that's on Fox News iirc, blargh), but I think it's far enough post-debate that we can say it was bad but did not sink him, and if anything, reinforced the fact to many ordinary, non-brainwormed voters that Biden is old (which has been the number one chief theme of news coverage for four years and is no surprise to anyone) but is a decent and principled man doing a good job, while Trump is an absolute gibbering insane orange shitmonger fascist. I don't think he did himself any favors in that regard.
....anyway. The point is, do not be fucking insane people, Biden is not going to step down and frankly shouldn't, don't read the NYT (as noted, they've openly admitted to sabotaging him for personal ego reasons so I don't know why the hell anyone would listen to what they have to say about him), this is still an eminently winnable election, and let's go get those motherfucking fascists. I want Trump in jail and all of SCOTUS and the MAGAGOP fucking crying over it because they fucking suck. Let's go.
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nadjasnandor · 2 months ago
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what I don't understand is like .... they wrote the guillermo and nandor dynamic the way they did AND made both of them queer. like. nobody asked them to do ANY of that. so turning around and mocking everyone who very reasonably looked at what the writers of this show wrote and said "they are written like a couple" is just a baffling thing to do. imho
Exactly. And if you don't mind, I'm going to use your ask as an excuse to write out why I'm upset about certain things, because what you said is the root of my problem.
My disappoint doesn't come from Nandor/Guillermo not going canon in the traditional sense (at least not fully), but from the very 2010s-esque way everyone seems to be talking about fans post-finale. Basically saying they never intended Nandor & Guillermo to be anything but platonic and blaming the weird fans for wanting their pornographic whishes (🙄) to actually happen in the show, like they were not in any way responsible for creating those wishes, is insulting but, more importantly, not true. And they can't convince me otherwise because I was there, watching the whole thing unfold in real time.
I already mentioned being remotely normal about Nandor/Guillermo pre season 3 and there is a reason for that. During the first season the fandom was small. And by that I mean both Nandor/Guillermo shippers and also the people watching wwdits in general. During season 1, sometimes all you saw when going into the tags was about 5 of my gifsets in a row, for instance. Even if people watched the show, they didn't really interact with it in a fandom-y way. During the middle of s1, I complained about there not being Nandor/Guillermo fics at all and even between s1 and s2 I posted about there not being a lot. It was also this era when the first mentions of possible canon romantic feelings were brought up and it was by Harvey himself, who said he thinks Guillermo has feelings for his boss. This was, of course, only Harvey explaining how he views his character but I feel it's important because, as it's been mentioned before, Harvey came up with a lot of Guillermo's character, starting with his surname. He basically created current Guillermo. In the original pilot script, Guillermo is a 40-something, very bitter man. Quite different from our Guillermo and it's all thanks to Harvey.
But during this period, that is during s1 and s2, anything romantic between Nandor and Guillermo was purely accidental and mostly due to Kayvan and Harvey's chemistry. We all knew this, even if by s2 we did get the first articles about Nandor & Guillermo's relationship being maybe not fully platonic. By the end of season 2, the fandom has grown for sure but it was still nowhere near its current size. We also had Nandor say he treated Guillermo like a son, which was quite annoying but we at least knew where we stood with the show. Didn't stop us from shipping those two, of course, because fandoms have survived on less (Looking back, it is funny how much I hated that line when now it's just *vaguely gestures around*). It's important to note that after season 2, Jemaine left and Paul took over. And then came season 3.
There is a reason why I was so insane about the Cloak of Duplication and then Gail. The former canonized Guillermo's feelings for Nandor on screen for the first time and the latter showed that it was not just a single episode, throw away scene. Instead they continued with Guillermo being jealous of Nandor and his sexual partner. That was huge. But the fandom still hasn't blown up fully, that happened later during season 3. And I think it's important to say that because they wrote and filmed season 3 before the show blew up. They cannot say they wrote those scenes to please (or bait) fans. They weren't 'pressured' to do anything with Nandor and Guillermo. Season 3 was also when the very heavy Nandor/Guillermo promoting started. (Like the parody of The Bodyguard poster with 'Never fall in lo-', for example). Now, I don't remember if the first articles calling them the will-they-won't-they couple of the show came out during this season or later, but it was definitely past season 3. So by the end of season 3 the fandom has grown large and people were obviously very into the ship.
Now we can say shippers are pushy or annoying but fans can be annoying in general. People can be annoying lol. When your show grows big enough, annoying people you don't like are going to watch it too. (I'm sure if those annoying people are cishet men then this burden is easier to bear but I digress. I am a little bitter, after all). But at this point, fans had no reason to be pushy, we thought every sign was pointing to canon romantic Nandor/Guillermo.
At this point, the show saw how large the fandom has grown and how invested people were in Nandor/Guillermo. If that's not what they wanted, if they felt people were seeing things differently than how they intented, they could have pulled back. They had enough time between season 3 and season 4 to do that. But they didn't. Instead, they doubled down and continued to do the same for 2 more season. Even if by season 5 the latest we already had Paul saying weird things about the dynamic.
Instead it seems they decided to pull back in season 6 but by then it was too late. People were expecting them to come through on the thing they have been teasing for 3 seasons. And then they blamed the fans for not liking what they offered up instead. For wanting 'pornographic scenes'. Because it's 'not that kind of a show'. They say this about a show with an episode called The Orgy.
And even while saying all that, they didn't stop them from teasing the fans until the very last moment. Nandor's 'you know what would be cooler than being friends' is just cruel lmao. And that's why it felt more like mocking to me. Not only because of what happened in the show, but because when I watch those scenes, I can't seperate them from how the cast and crew talk about the ship and the fans in interviews. They apparently now think it's stupid and weird but will gladly tease it in the show for whatever reason? It's funny because fans are weird and kinky, I guess. Things unheard of in relation to this show.
I also don't understand Kayvan and Harvey's complete 180 turn. During the early seasons, Kayvan was not really into the idea of the ship, saying it's a bit toxic due to the power imbalance in their dynamic but he seemed to go full throttle later, even overtaking Harvey in hyping the ship up. And then in the first post-finale interview, he says that 'Nandor is never going to have sex with Guillermo', even if the show left that door open with the last scene. And then there's Harvey, who was the first to say Guillermo has feelings for his boss, who is now championing the repserentation of platonic gay male friendships on tv. In his case, I can give him the benefit of doubt, because he must have his own experiences with that and it's not my place to dismiss or doubt them. I do find the change strange and have complained about it but it's more understandable than Kayvan's. (EDIT: I didn't read this interview after the finale but it just makes things even more confusing, if I'm honest.)
I tried to be as coherent as possible and write out all my thoughts about this topic but I most likely still missed some things. I don't really like to talk about my feelings and thoughts this elaborately because I find it difficult to fully express myself but I tried my best because I felt like I was going insane.
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goldfades · 9 months ago
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Paige nsfw hcs pls
─ warnings | NSFW under the cut! read at your own discretion!
─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!
─ ev's notes | the long awaited nsfw headcanons for paigey, i finally got the motivation to write it after i kept reading the INSANE smut yall keep writing (keep it up im lovin it) also this is such a mess, this is just rambling and not organized whatsoever, but wtv i hope yall enjoyed :)
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woo, where do i even begin?
let's begin with the obvious, paige is a TOP, i can't stress this enough
i genuinely can't see anyone topping her she's just .... a TOP
but that doesn't mean she won't let you take the reigns every once in awhile, esp after a bad game/tiring practice because everyone once to be taken care of sometimes
i'm def not the first person to say this and certainly will not be the last but STRAP GAME GOES SOOOOO HARD
i feel like at first she's gonna be weirded out cus like... she likes only girls for a reason??? and she has her mouth and fingers??? why would she need a piece of plastic to make her girl feel good???
but the first time y'all try it, she's hooked
she forgets ab her hands after that
jk but like
yeah she's HOOKED
she gets really into it LOL, def can imagine her calling the strap her dick
oh and she fucks HARDDDD like, no room to breathe or anything
like you'll be gasping for air after and she'll be super duper proud
i read this one fic with like the dual ended one (i didn't even know that existed) and then i was like yep, yes this is the oneee
with positions, i can't see her doing anything more than like missionary (cus she loves to see your pretty face) and like from the back
but as soon as she discovers riding, it's OVERRRRR for you
she's making you ride her strap anytime she can, cus she loves it
she has her hands on your hips as she's guiding you and she LOVES IT so fucking much, like the power she has over you makes her go feral
oh and do not get me started on sucking her strap, cus again she loves the power she holds over you
she has your hair in a ponytail and the more you get comfortable with the whole thing, she WILL make you gag
she acts like it's her dick (yeah i know we covered that) but like esp when you're sucking her strap, she will just dirty talk u the entire time
"you like my dick, pretty girl? like gagging on my dick?" cus yeah, u do
oh and yes, she does have breeding kink
it breaks her heart that she can't get you pregnant 😪
but she sure as hell will pretend to!!!!!
will 100% bend you over and just yap about getting you pregnant
also if she's fucking you in missionary, she expects you to look at her the entire time
so if you turn away, she will grab your face and keep you looking straight at her
FUCK IDK WHY THAT'S SO HOT
paige is a D1 yapper i fear, and that would 10000% seep into the bedroom LMAO
mostly praise cus babygirl would feel really bad but when she gets into, she GETS into it
like she will call you her slut as she's about cum
that post-nut clarity goes hard the first time tho cus she's like no way i called my gf a dirty fucking slut 😭😭 she sits with her thoughts for a good 10 minutes trying to recollect herself
she is a munch for sure, like she will eat you out for hours and hours on end (not an exaggeration btw)
but she LOVES when you give back
it makes her go fucking feral when she sees you eating her out, like yessssssssssssss
she has to close her eyes bc if she keeps looking at your face, she WILL cum
she has a bad hair pulling problem, like she will grip your hair so hard your head will hurt after
it's apart of the appeal tho 🎀
her fav spot to get absolutely ate is her gaming chair cus like, she needs you in between her legs giving her support to get that victory royale 💯💯💯
she hates when she gets ass or tits bc she genuinely cannot pick
it depends on the day bc they're both great, she will never pick one
i feel like she's definitely thought ab fucking you in public but she can't risk it
SHES A D1 ATHLETE !!
the only time yall did was in a bathroom at an event and it was SOOO bad afterwards cus everyone could tell
you had to pretend like you didn't get your brains fucked out and paige had to pretend she didn't DO the fucking
but lowkey she enjoyed it a lot, but would she do it again?
maybe, a solid maybe (with the right motivation)
okay but like ....
she def has fingered u while the girls are over cus like, she was in a silly mood?
you just looked too fucking good, she had to
but thank god no one noticed (at least to yalls knowledge...)
she's a horny fuck ARGUE WITH THE WALL
she will get turned on by anything you do, like homegirl is just sooooo down bad for you
you could be applying chapstick and paige will be like "we need to fuck, now."
paige's aftercare is just giving you water and cuddling with you for 10 mis while scrolling on tiktok and then gets up to play fortnite with kk
she literally is the tiktok where it's like "after he rearranges my organs he goes and plays fortnite" i hope yall know what i'm talking about
but you don't mind ofc cus she makes you sit on her lap while playing
but then turns into another round cus shes a horny fuck
paige is all for hickies on YOU but she gets pissed when you give her a hickey cus she's like people are gonna see
like she's the only one who has to deal with the public 🙄🙄🙄
but she loves marking you EVERYWHERE, esp on your collarbone like it's so sexy
oh and god bless you in the summer, the ones on your thighs are getting AIRED OUT bc paige does not care
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↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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wttcsms · 1 year ago
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as it was ; suguru geto.
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pairing suguru geto x f!reader  word count 4.2k  synopsis suguru comes back, only to find that you've been waiting and wanting this whole entire time. content contains modern no curses!au, gojo's sister!reader, brother's best friend, creampie, pet names (good girl, baby), most of the fic is geto's introspection, possessive sex, mutual pining/longing author’s notes im not even horny for geto like that, but i wanted to write angsty smut abt spreading ur legs for a guy that left u & who else is better for this than geto <3
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First words are always a bit tricky to get right, especially whenever he has to take into account that he essentially ghosted you a couple of years ago, after taking your virginity no less, and now he’s back in the godforsaken city he swore he was never coming back to, and he’s just at a loss about what to say and more importantly, how to say it. 
He supposes an apology, for starters, would be a good first move. And maybe it would be, could be, should be, if only he wasn’t him and you weren’t you, and the two of you were not something so confusing and intricate that it’s hard to put into words and harder still to describe with emotions. The two of you are something raw and painful, both of you taking turns playing both sadist and masochist. 
Even to himself, the extent of your relationship sounds twisted, but there was always an underlying purity to it, something that justified its existence. To this day, Suguru Geto is certain that you’re the only person who ever loved him for him, with a love so pure and just that he tries to hide it from everyone else before they can get their filthy hands on it and taint it, twist it into something it’s not. 
Sorry I left won’t cut it, and Geto doesn’t even bother trying to come up with any other variations of apology because it’s not necessarily your forgiveness that he’s come back for. The opportunity to say “I’m sorry” and have it actually mean something has long since passed. All that’s left to say is the truth for why he left, which for some odd reason, seems even harder to do than his original disappearing act.
I missed you — that’s a slight improvement. It’s the truth, if not an understatement of it. He doesn’t regret leaving Tokyo, he just regrets leaving you. Which he could say, if you would actually open the door to face him. 
He figures it’s what he deserves. He deserves worse, if he’s going to be entirely honest. He deserves a slap to the face, or a kick to his balls, or for you to tell him that you hate him, that you never want to see him ever again. 
He knocks on your apartment door, harder this time, as if it’s something urgent. And maybe it is. He’s felt more like himself than he ever has after moving, but the solitude of the countryside got boring soon after, leaving him only with the ghosts from his past to keep him company. He thinks if he doesn’t see you, in the flesh, he might actually go insane. 
He knocks again, only to be met with more silence and a door that’s starting to become more of a familiar sight than he would like. Fuck, what is he even doing? Showing up here was a bad idea to begin with, and it’s only seemingly getting worse by every agonizing second that ticks by. Even if you do open the door, there’s always the chance that you won’t let him get a single word in — that’d be the smart choice, anyway. 
And you’re a bright girl, don’t get him wrong. Something about the Gojo bloodline makes your family incapable of producing anything less than prodigal sons and daughters. If you’re not proof of this fact, there’s your older brother.
Yet another reason why showing up here is such a shitty plan. Satoru will catch wind of his visit, and when he does, he’ll show no restraint in showing Suguru what all of his private boxing lessons are good for. A broken nose and missing tooth would be a fair exchange to see you for at least a second, though. A tradeoff that he doesn’t need to debate on. 
You have to leave your apartment eventually. Suguru dances with the idea of just making camp outside your door and waiting for your stubbornness to fizzle out. It’ll be embarrassing, and your neighbors will surely have something to say about it, but it would be well worth it.
He hears the ding! of the elevator opening and human reflex causes his head to turn at the sound of the noise. 
Oh.
The world becomes contradictory at this very moment. The air suddenly stills, but the atmosphere itself seems to come alive at the same time. Stagnant air, bursting with electricity and something awe-inspiring. Everything seems to slow down, but suddenly he’s acutely aware of just how alarmingly fast his heart is beating. It’s been a while since he’s last seen you, not even bothering to check up on your social media because he knows one DM from you would have him crossing the ocean to be back by your side. 
The reason why you weren’t answering your door was simply because you weren’t even home. Relief floods his body, makes him less tense, only for him to stiffen up once more whenever his eyes trail over to the warm body awfully close to you. 
Or maybe it’s the other way around, since you’re the one clinging onto him.
You and Kento Nanami both look like you two have seen a ghost, and all things considered, you wouldn’t be wrong. 
“What are you doing here?” You’re the first to speak, with Nanami’s arm wrapped protectively around your waist, and it’s this closeness that’s the only thing Suguru finds himself able to focus on. It’s been years. He shouldn’t feel this way. You’re free to do whatever you want with whoever you want. It’s your life. He’s the one that chose to walk out of it, anyway. 
“I just wanted to talk,” he answers. Which isn’t a lie. He wanted to talk. He wanted to fight and make up and fuck your brains out and beg for forgiveness and cook you breakfast in the morning and warm your bed, amongst other things, too. But, he figures the condensed version of his list will do, especially considering that three’s a crowd, and most of his itinerary was for your ears only. “Did I come at a bad time?” 
You bite your bottom lip, slowly removing yourself from Nanami’s grip. Nanami looks at you first, concern evident in his warm eyes, eyes that you wish were just a bit darker and colder, so that they would be the ones you’re so accustomed to drowning in. 
You like Nanami well enough. He’s kind and looks out for you, and sometimes you even consider making a move on him first since he’s too much of a gentleman to cross any boundaries. Then again, you don’t think Nanami sees you as anything more than a little sister, and the last time you fucked one of your brother’s best friends… 
It’s why you just give Nanami a smile, one that tells him that you’ve got this under control. His facial expression doesn’t give any indication of what he’s thinking, but the glare he sends Suguru’s way says enough. 
Suguru can appreciate the fierce protectiveness Nanami has towards you, but it doesn’t mean he likes it. Especially when it’s Suguru that’s considered to be the threat.
You move to unlock your door once Nanami makes his reluctant exit, and when you enter your apartment, you conveniently don’t shut the door. Suguru trails behind you.
You turn on the lights, your living room and kitchen blending together in an open-floor plan, bathed in the stark, white lights hanging from your high ceilings. Your apartment, at least what Suguru can see of it, is tastefully decorated. Courtesy of your mother, he’s sure. He would ask about her, ask how she’s doing, but he figures now’s just not the right timing. 
It doesn’t seem to be the right timing for anything he wants to say. He wants to mention that he’s thought about you, thought about reaching out — sometimes to explain himself, and other times just to discuss the mundane aspects of life — but he thinks that would be even worse than apologizing. It would be cruel of him to dangle this information in your face, haunt you with the knowledge that all this time, he’s truly been avoiding you. Knowing you, you would have questioned him on why he didn’t bother reaching out, and he would have been stuck admitting that it’s simply because he was too scared that you wouldn’t answer. 
“Want a drink?” You ask him, back facing him as you peer into your fridge. He catches a glimpse of shiny glass bottles, water bottled in Europe and with the optimal pH balance, he’s certain of it. His throat feels a bit dry, but he tells you no. 
“I drank enough water on the drive up here,” he tells you, which again, isn’t a lie. Suguru feels a bit pleased with himself, even if it is a bit narcissistic of himself for expecting a pat on the back for doing something so simple. He supposes it’s just because he’s gotten so used to never being honest with himself — or others, for that matter — so his current streak for telling the truth seems like something to celebrate. 
“I didn't drink enough.” You say, and he can’t tell if it’s alcohol you’re talking about or water. You’re a lightweight; yet another trait that seems to be passed down the Gojo family. That explains Nanami escorting you home, then. 
“Aren’t you going to ask how I found you?” Suguru helps himself to taking a seat on the white couch in your living room. Because there’s no walls separating the two different spaces, he can still look at you from this position as you rest your elbows on your kitchen’s island, as if needing the support. 
“If you wanted me to know, you’d let me know.” It’s the way you say it that reveals that this comment isn’t made just in reply to his current question, but for everything else Suguru was going to follow it with. Don’t you want to know where I went? Don’t you want to know why I left? 
It’s amazing what humans are capable of. Nearly six years since the two of you have lost contact — since Suguru broke all contact — and yet, you can still read him just as well as he can read you. You see him for what he is, not whatever mask he wants to disguise himself with, and it’s scary, he thinks. Scary to be seen by someone. And nice. It’s nice to have someone know you’re a monster and still not run away.
He’s not quite sure what that says about you.
“It’s a bit of a funny story.” He says, trying to steer this conversation to a more lighthearted tone even though the two of you are nowhere close to feeling light and the jury’s still out on whether or not Suguru Geto has a heart. “You don’t need the reminder, but don’t ever tell Mei Mei a secret you want to keep.” 
The mention of your shared friend — if Mei Mei can even be considered one — makes the corners of your pretty mouth tilt upward. Mei Mei was born with a silver spoon, but the running joke is that it wasn’t in her mouth because she bartered with the doctor and blackmailed him into giving her a gold one. If you have the funds, Mei Mei has the information you’re looking for. 
She’s the only number Suguru saved in his phone contacts, and it’s only because he knew that if he needed anyone else’s number, Mei Mei would readily give it after her Venmo request goes through. 
“Of course she would tell you my address.” You say, but you don’t sound upset at all. Just amused, like this whole situation is something endearing, and you don’t harbor any ill feelings towards either of them, even though both Suguru and Mei Mei technically violated your trust. Suguru more so than Mei Mei, but, well, semantics. 
“Aren’t you mad?” The “at me” is unspoken.
“Mei Mei is a free spirit.” It’s a joke, and Suguru makes a sound from his throat that resembles a laugh. Mei Mei may do whatever she wants, but nothing about her comes free.
He knows you know what he was actually asking. He’s been trying to gauge your reaction to everything he says, trying to see if you hate his guts or not. 
“I missed you.” You tell him suddenly, and while he’s imagined those words coming out of your mouth, it still shakes him up a bit. It’s hard constantly posturing as if he’s cool and collected, nothing ever bothering him, his body and expression never betraying him. But it’s his heart that gives him away, and it’s heart that you hold, and no matter what face he puts on, he knows that you’ll know what the words he won’t say are.
“Don’t apologize.” You continue, closing the distance between you two and opting to take a seat next to him. There’s about six inches of space separating you two. The distance shapeshifts in his mind, sometimes becoming mere millimeters and sometimes feeling more like there’s an ocean between you both. 
The sorry was on the tip of his tongue and it traveled all the way there from his heart. It would be a waste of a journey for him to not say it, but he’s certain the apology would do more harm than good, even if it is genuine. 
Suguru stands out against the stark white of your apartment. Your mom likes the aesthetic of it, and since it’s your parents’ money, you merely shrugged and let her do whatever she wanted. In his black pants and black sweatshirt, he looks almost out of place in your home. 
The thought that he doesn’t belong makes your heart hurt more than the burn of the alcohol from tonight going down your throat. 
You don’t waste time wondering where Suguru went because for all intents and purposes, you never even knew where he came from to begin with. You knew him since you were children; your favorite out of all your brother’s friends because it was always Suguru who let you tag along and trail behind them. No one really knows much about Suguru’s life, his past, present, and future all a big blur to anyone but himself. From the way he slowly turns to face you, dark eyes meeting yours, you start to think of the possibility that maybe not even Suguru is an open book with himself. 
Suguru looks like a shadow, standing out from the brightness of everything that is surrounding him in your living room. You want to ask him the questions that plague your mind ever since he’s been gone, but you don’t, because you’re scared he is a shadow. One wrong move, and he just disappears from your grasp once again. 
There are the hard-hitting questions, of course. The ones that search for why he left and why he told no one and why he didn’t bother taking you. Then there are the gentler ones that would still require him to rip himself open and bare himself to you, things like how’s your new place and meet anyone interesting? You feel his gaze travel from your eyes to the slope of your nose and the apples of your cheek, downward to your lips. The intensity of his stare makes you nervously lick your lips, a tiny, quick action, but his eyes greedily take in the sight of the tip of your pink tongue casually making an appearance, only to retreat behind your pretty pink, glossed lips. 
“Are you mad that I came back?” Suguru finds himself taking the role of interviewer, since it’s evident to the two of you that you know better than to bother asking him any questions. He feels like you’re treating him a bit like a stray cat, all cautious and scared of provoking him or forcing him to run away. He wants to tell you that this is not the case and that he actually plans on staying this time around, but he hasn’t entirely convinced himself yet, so he’s not going to break your heart with any more empty promises. 
“No. Like I said, I missed you.” He wants to be able to blame your honesty on account of you being drunk, but he knows that you’ve just always been honest to a fault. 
“You shouldn’t.” He tells you this, and you scoff. Probably because Suguru is the last person who should be giving any sort of life advice. 
“Guess what I’m thinking.” You say, and Suguru feels something come alive from within, like he’s been frozen for the past six years, and the more he gets to bask in the warmth of your presence, the more he starts to defrost. There’s not a single hint of anger or malice in your tone, just the familiar, lighthearted, girlish tone of yours. 
“That you think I’m a creep and want me to get the hell out.” 
You frown, rolling your eyes, tucking your feet beneath you to get more comfortable on the couch.
“I’m thinking about that last time you told me I shouldn’t be doing something.” There’s a gleam in your bright eyes that clearly spells out desire, and Suguru is very, very close to defrosting. In fact, there’s a heat that’s beginning to settle deep in him, and maybe he should know better than to indulge in it, but it’s been years, and you are sitting here in front of him, pretty and fresh, and his hindbrain takes the driver’s seat. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But he does know, and he knows that you know that he knows, just as you seemingly know everything about him. Maybe not about his childhood — or lack, thereof — or what he’s been up to, but you know the important stuff. The things that make him tick and all the words he fails to say. Three words. Three words that he doesn’t think he’ll ever muster enough courage to say to you, but from the look in your eyes, you already know. 
“I’ll jog your memory.” 
And suddenly, your lips are pressed against his. You’re kissing him, and like the lovesick fool he is, he’s kissing you back. It’s pure muscle memory, maybe even animal instinct. He thought that leaving Tokyo was the right thing to do, and for the most part, it was, but with your lips perfectly melding with his own, he thinks that leaving was stupid. 
Making out is such a juvenile ordeal, but he relishes in it because Suguru feels like he’s spent most of his youth trying to outrun it, and now he’s trying to take advantage of what his boyhood should have consisted of. The kisses are now bordering on sloppy and hazy, and somehow, you end up straddling his lap. He’s hard, and he should be embarrassed at popping a boner just from wet kisses, but it’s you. You have an effect on him that no one else does. His Achilles. The one weakness only he can feel. 
Suguru knows that he is not a good person because a good person doesn’t go behind their best friend’s back and fucks their little sister. He had told, thirty minutes before introducing you to the feeling of his cock stretching you out, that the two of you shouldn’t be doing that. Suguru knows that he is not a good person because he cannot be any happier at the fact that history has a funny way of repeating itself. Six years later, and the two of you are back in a similar position.
You’re starting to rut against him, your dress riding up your thighs and exposing more of your skin to him. Suguru helps himself to handfuls of your soft flesh, squeezing in a manner that can’t be defined as gentle, but he loves how you take him as he is without any sort of complaint. All you do is let out a low moan, your pantyclad pussy grinding against his equally clothed bulge. 
Your movements are a bit desperate, frenzied. You’re getting lost in pleasure already, and he hasn’t even done much to elicit such a reaction. The idea that only he can get you this riled up with doing so little makes him impossibly harder, and he looks down, realizing that you’re so soaked, your panties are practically translucent. 
The two of you have the option of taking things slow, but neither of you want to do that. When you spend some time starving, you don’t savor the meal, you scarf it down. 
That’s what the two of you are — hungry, greedy — as you both hastily strip as much clothing as you can bear to spend time getting out of. Your minidress is tossed carelessly on the living room floor, and Suguru can only bother with unzipping his pants and pushing down his briefs just enough to free his cock. 
The intrusion of the tip of his cock entering your wet, needy cunt is less of an intrusion and instead akin to something rightfully returning to where it belongs. Your hands are tangled in his hair, and he relishes this feeling. This wholeness, this concept of being complete.
The inviting warmth of your pussy makes him want to cum right on the spot, but he can’t waste it. He’s spent years pining after you, missing you, and he wants you to feel like the time apart had been worth it. 
“I missed you.” This time it’s him who makes the admittance. You tighten up at this confession, and it evokes a low groan from him, almost as if you had forced the sound to come from all the way down his throat.
“I know.” You gasp out, not able to speak clearly with how deep Suguru is hitting. Your living room is filled with the wet clicks and slaps of skin against skin, your juices coating his cock every time he pulls out. 
The vein on the underside of his cock rubs against your walls, and the slight curve of it enables him to hit that gummy spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. You’ve never given much thought to cocks, but you know that Suguru’s is the prettiest of them all. 
“Tell me you’re mine.” He grunts out, lips brushing against the soft skin of your neck before biting down; gentle enough not to draw blood, sharp enough to still leave a mark. You rock against him, hips moving in tandem with his thrusts, the steady hum of pleasure continuously building up in your lower belly. You are dizzy with pleasure; blanketed in it, being spoon fed it. 
He doesn’t need you to say it to know it’s true, but you moan it out anyway, both to appease him and because there’s a sort of pride in knowing that you belong to him. 
“I’m yours. I belong to you.” The words are separated, punctuated, by the little gasps for air you give out because with every word, he thrusts up even harder, hitting that special spot that will have you cumming all over him, making a mess. 
“Yeah?” It comes out sounding like a shaky breath, and he’s close, you know it, you can feel it. 
Calloused pads belonging to fingers much larger than yours are being pressed against your clit. You’re soaked, and the dryness of his hands combining with your overall slickness gives way to delicious friction that has you cumming with his name as a broken moan filtering through your swollen lips. 
“That’s it, baby. Good girl. Good fucking girl.” He mutters, relishing in the way your walls tighten, spasm, clenching and unclenching sporadically as your body loses its energy and you press yourself up against his chest.
He follows after just a few more sloppy thrusts, the last one forcing himself as deep inside of you as possible. His cum is hot and thick, and it’s filling you to the brim. If he pulls out now, it’ll flood out of you, and the thought is both sad and hot at the same time. You want his cum inside of you, to serve as a reminder that this is real, that he’s real. 
But seeing the physicality of him staking his claim, white seed dripping out of you, turns you on. Him, too, with the look of fascination and boyish wonder he has in his eyes as he stares at how the two of you are connected.
Before he can bother with confirming a round two, a sharp knock on the door has the two of you comically jumping a bit in surprise, both of you glancing at the door and then at each other.
“[Name], I know you’re in there!” You freeze. 
Satoru. 
Suguru wants to try to calm you down, whisper to you that everything’s going to be fine, but the anger laced in his best friend’s — former best friend’s — voice is enough to make him freeze up, too. Not just his icy tone, but what he says.
“I know you’re back, too, Suguru.”
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lunicho · 1 year ago
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wandering thoughts - han taesan
- synopsis: taesan can't help but get distracted while on holiday with your family. all he wants is to be under your gaze. (2.1k words)
- warnings: subby taesan, gn reader, brief nipple play, y/n and taesan almost get caught, handjob, reader calls taesan kitty like twice (lmk if i missed anything)
a/n: first fic omgg, i'm rlly rusty with writing so pls be nice 💔. i don't normally call taesan by his real name but my mind works weird so i have to write fics with his real name idk why, anyways hope you enjoy!!
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“dongmin you have to let go!” your voice was muffled because your boyfriend had his arm around you, pushing your face into him. he'd been holding you in place for so long, not wanting to be left behind. “i need to shower!!” after a little bit of a struggle, you somehow managed to twist out of his grasp. 
your eyes were squinted as you adjusted to being in the light again, but you moved to your drawer to grab your clothes. “i'll just go with you then.” he sat up as well, moving himself to the end of your bed. 
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“no, you already know that you can't. i won't be that long, you big baby.” you laughed when you saw his expression, a slight pout placed on his lips. he continued to watch your every move, eyes following you as you moved around your room. 
you turned your body towards him, a deadpan expression coming across your face. “baby, seriously im not gonna disappear the second your eyes leave me, relax.” dongmin threw his body back on the bed, sighing at how badly he wanted your attention. 
“i'll be back, i promise.” you grabbed the remote from behind him, placing a kiss on his pouty lips simultaneously, “find a movie or something while im gone.” you dropped the remote in his lap, quickly leaving the room before he could protest any further. 
this was the first time dongmin was visiting with your family for an extended period of time. you've brought him to get togethers and other family events but he's never stayed at your parents house or any of your family's house for that matter. the day was awesome, everyone was getting along well and you had a lot of fun, especially since you hadn't been to your parents house in a little while. he hated that his mind strayed like it did all day, the only thing he was able to focus on was you. 
his mind wandered again as he tried to pick a movie, all he could think about was you in the shower. how the water would run down your body, the way your sweet scented shower gel would lather on your chest, and how you'd stand wordlessly in the warmth, enjoying the way the water heated up your joints. he bit his lip at the thought, trying to snap himself out of it by scrolling through more movies. he could feel himself getting hard already, just the thought of your naked body could drive him to insanity. dongmin eventually landed on one, sighing as his pants suddenly felt way too tight. 
he got up to change into pajamas, hurriedly removing his pants. he palmed himself over his underwear once his jeans were off, eyebrows furrowed with frustration. a small pool of precum leaked through his black boxers, the sight making him harder. he thought about quickly getting himself off but ultimately decided against it, not wanting to disobey you. 
you caught his attention a little bit later by opening your bedroom door, entering the room in your cozy pajamas. you threw your dirty clothes into the basket by the door, smiling at your boyfriend lovingly, “do you wanna go take a shower?” you grabbed your lotion and sat on the bed, rubbing down your arms and legs. dongmin shook his head, “no, i took one right before i came.” he lifted the blanket off of himself a little to show that he had already changed into pajamas. 
you nodded and turned your back to dongmin, looking at the tv, “ooh you picked a good movie, you can start it.” he pressed play, the tv faintly playing sound. you normally keep the volume fairly since you usually watch tv late into the night. 
you could hear dongmin moving around behind you, the way the bed slightly shook also giving it away. the bed dipped below you a bit when he got closer, you could almost feel heat radiating off of him. his hands rested on your shoulders and he brought his face down to yours, placing kisses on your face and shoulders. he briefly smelled the nape of your neck, the freshly sprayed perfume and body oil made a heavenly mixture on your skin. you tilted your head, allowing him more access, “seriously what has gotten into you today?” you put the lotion down with a smile on your face, moving onto the bed and cuddling into your boyfriend. 
“don't know, just love you.” you now had your back to the tv, the two of you facing each other as you cuddled up. “well, love me from over there.” you said jokingly, trying to move out of his grasp again, hands pushing him away. you both laughed but dongmin's grasp on you remained firm. he lowered you onto your back, placing his lips on yours. a quiet whimper fell from his lips, showing how desperate he was for your touch. 
“you know,” you pulled away from the kiss, sitting up on your elbow, your free hand moving down his torso, “you could just tell me when you're needy like this..” you brush your hand along his hardened length, confirming your suspicions. 
he sucked in a breath, reacting to the way you grasped him gently, fingers gripping the bed sheets. his big eyes gazed into yours, his lip caught between his teeth. he breathed out a whimper when your hand moved away from him. “keep quiet, don't want my family hearing you..” 
you sat up on your knees, the long forgotten movie still playing behind you two. you moved the blanket down his body, allowing yourself to fully see. “why should i help you right now? maybe i should just leave you like this as a punishment for being so dirty.” you were only teasing but the desperate head shaking that came from the boy below you made you smile. 
“please.. i need you so bad..” his volume was low, desperation leaking from every word. he ran his hand through his hair, his thighs pressing together slightly. 
“i can't believe you right now..” you genuinely were a little shocked, dongmin isn't usually the type that's not able to control himself but he'd just been extra needy today. he'd been keeping a hushed but flirty tone with you all day, leaning down to your ear each time. when you'd be alone with him he'd kiss you quickly, pressing his lips against you as much as he could. 
“please y/n..” he shut his eyes tight, a slight wave of embarrassment washing over him. he brought his hands up to his face, slightly covering it. he's always so shy during sex but he was so so cute. 
“aww it's okay baby, i'm sorry for teasing you so much.” with one hand you pulled his hands away from his face, your thumb brushing over his bottom lip. he pushed his lips against the pad of your finger, his lips parting slightly. with your other hand you gently palmed him over his pants. your voice was hushed as you spoke, not wanting anyone to hear, “gonna take care of you okay?” he nodded, eyes desperate. 
you pulled the tied drawstring of his pajama pants, quietly asking him to pull them down. you ran a finger up the length of his shaft, watching as he shivered under you. his precum made his tip slick as you thumbed his throbbing slit. 
you reached for the lotion you used earlier, squeezing some into your hand, finally slowly pumping his length. small needy noises spilled from the boys lips. you caressed his cheek gently, heart melting when he unconsciously leaned into your touch, just like a little kitten. “you've gotta keep quiet kitty.” with that you swiftly stuck two fingers into his mouth and he immediately started sucking on them. 
he breathed out heavily, one of his hands holding onto your arm as a way to brace himself. you adored this boy, continuing to pump his length at a steady pace. 
dongmin couldn't sit still, his thighs tensed and released repeatedly as a tight ball for formed in his stomach. his hips rolled in small circles, eyes staring up at you once again. he moaned around your fingers, one of his hands moving to go around your waist. 
you couldn't help but whisper, “such a pretty kitty..” your voice sounding slightly awestruck. times like this just swole your heart up, filling you with warmth. you pulled your fingers out of his mouth, moving your hand under his shirt to toy with his nipples. 
his nipples weren't that sensitive but they still got him reacting a bit. they hardened as soon as you touched them, hands brushing across them playfully. 
you focused your hand on the tip of his cock, repeatedly brushing over it. his hips slightly stuttered, pushing away from your grasp out of sensitivity. this got his orgasm building up even faster than before. 
he was so close to finishing, so so close but there was a knock at your door. dongmin's hips stilled, a mortified expression crossing his face. “y/n?” your hand slowed down on his length, his body tense in your grasp. you continued to play with the head of his cock as you answered, knowing your mom wouldn't open the door, “yes mom?” dongmin accidentally whimpered at the feeling of your hand slightly tightening on his length, his noise almost being too loud.
without second thought you slapped a hand over his mouth. he breathed out heavily from his nose, the air blowing against the back if your hand. the adrenaline of the situation caused his cock to twitch. he shut his eyes tightly, suddenly getting the urge to fuck your fist and make himself cum. 
“are you guys hungry? do you want a snack or anything?” you nodded although she couldn't see you through the door, “yeah, thanks, we'll be out in a second, we're finishing up part of this movie.” she responded to you after that, the sound of her footsteps getting farther from your door. 
you waited to be sure she was gone before speaking, leaning closer to the boy, “oh you liked that, hm? almost getting caught made your cock harder didn't it? so dirty..”
you uncovered his mouth and watched his mouth move as if he was going to say something, but nothing came out. “next time we're at your place i'm gonna fuck you up for this, you know that right? gonna ride you until you're begging me to let you cum.” he nods eagerly at this with furrowed eyebrows, desperate to cum now. 
the way you're talking is enough to get him going even more. his hips moved on their own causing you to stop your movements on his cock. he fucked himself into your fist, head thrown back and mouth falling open. 
several moans come from him, your fingers returning to his mouth. his moans are muffled but still quite audible as he gets himself off in your fist. 
ropes of cum eventually shoot from his cock, landing on his stomach. you begin stroking him through his orgasm, his hips stuttering once again. he breathes heavily, pressing his lips shut against your fingers as he comes down from his high. he keeps his eyes closed as his chest rises and falls, his hips jolting every once in a while. 
you pull your fingers out of his mouth once again, leaning down to kiss his slightly sweaty forehead. you brush his hair out of his face, kissing down to his cheek, “you okay my love?” to that he nods, finally opening his eyes and smiling shyly. 
“thank you y/n.” he was feeling slightly embarrassed again as he sat up on his elbows looking at his stomach. he was covered in his own cum, unable to move from his spot. he shook his head before looking to you for help, hands returning to his hair to fluff it up, a habit he has. you turned to him and nodded with a smile as you looked for something to clean him up with. 
you grabbed a towel out of your laundry basket, wiping your hands before taking it over to dongmin. you helped him clean himself up, returning the towel to the basket shortly after. you stood by the door, watching the boy on your bed. 
“hurry honey, i wanna get some snacks.” he smiled at you as he pulled his pants back up, tying the knot once again. his heart was still pumping quickly as he exited the room, the adrenaline of the situation still with him. 
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scarlethexelove · 11 months ago
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hey! lemme just say first that I love your Agatha fics, it's so on character <3 I read your fic the other night and I can't stop thinking about it. Is there part 2 for 'Why are you here'? If there will be, I was thinking if you could put how Reader went to Agatha's house that night and she (Agatha) fulfilled her promise to her by fucking her in different positions until she's overstimulated. and then she breeds her full of her cum just because she's possessive :D
You Came
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Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Maximoff!Reader
Word Count: 2238
Warnings: Smut, Legal age gap, Dom!Agatha, Sub!Reader, Enchanted Strap, Cum Strap, Breeding, Degrading, Possessive!Agatha, Blow Jobs, Rough sex, Dark!Agatha at the end, Overstimulation, Dacryphilia, Slight bondage, Squirting, Marking.
Pt 1, Pt 3, Pt 4, Pt 5
A/n: I had enjoyment of writing this. Of course while writing I had the thought of Agatha having darker ulterior motives but like she still wants Reader either way. Just a bit of a motivation to have them.
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN
The window squeaks as it slides open. You grimace at the noise hoping that no one heard you. The darkness and silence around you leads you to let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding. You carefully climb out the window, your foot catching on the window seal before you face plant into the ground. Your hands going out trying to catch you but failing miserably. “Son of a bitch.” You groan as you get up and dust yourself off. You’re thankful that after the commotion earlier in the day your mom as she profusely apologized used her magic to heal you. She normally never did that but she felt so guilty for being the one to cause you pain that she made an exception. You know she never meant to hurt you so all was forgiven, but now you're sneaking out to meet up with a woman that your mom despises. 
You look around making sure that no one heard you yet again. Sneaking out past the front window. You can see your mom the glow of the tv in the dark room illuminating her sleeping face. You feel bad for sneaking out to meet Agatha but the woman is so enticing. You shake the thoughts away as you make your way next door. 
You raise your hand balling it into a fist ready to knock on the door when it swings open. You gasp in surprise at the much older woman standing in front of you wearing nothing but a lace lingerie set. You frantically look back behind you turning your head in multiple directions scared someone will see. Your head whips back to the woman a smirk on her lips as her hand is planted on the edge of the door. “What the fuck do you think your doing?” You whisper scream at Agatha. She grabs the collar of your shirt, balling her fist there and pulls you in, shutting the door behind you before pressing you against it. Her hand snaking around your neck and squeezing. “Who do you think you're talking to like that little girl? Hmm did your mother never teach you manners? Don’t worry bunny, I'll teach you.” You can’t help the whimper that slips past your lips. 
Agatha licks her lips. Your wide eyed innocent look is driving her insane. She can’t wait to destroy you. She pushes you down to the ground hard. Your knee’s connecting with the hardwood floors causing you to whimper from the pain. Sure that you will have bruises there later. You look up to the woman confusion crossing your face as a sinister grin spreads across her. Purple swirls around the both of you before a strap appears around her hips slapping you in the face. Your clothes are also gone in an instant. You blush a deep red trying to cover your body but Agatha has no part of that. Your hands are instantly bound behind your back purple magic wrapped around them tightly. 
Arousal starts to coat your thighs as Agatha takes her strap in her hand, jerking it a bit and moaning before slapping it against your cheek a few times. “I want you to suck my cock. Put that dirty mouth to good use.” You open your mouth to talk back but instead Agatha shoves her strap down your throat causing you to gag. When she moans it that is when you realize that the strap is enchanted. You can feel it pulsing in your throat as you look up at the woman with tears in your eyes. 
Agatha’s hand cups your cheek wiping away the tears that fall. “So pretty when you cry.” She thrust the strap in and out of your throat. Her hand moving from your cheek up to your hair. Gripping harshly and pulling you all the way down on her cock. Your gags fill the room as more tears fall down your face. She leaves you there for what seems like forever before pulling you off. You cough, catching your breath. But she only gives you a short amount of time before she is back to fucking your throat with her strap. The only sounds in the room are of your gags and her moans. “Fuck if your throat feels like this I can’t wait to fuck your pussy.” She groans her hips already become more erratic the longer she thrust. 
Arousal drips out of you, your thighs coated as it slowly drips to the floor. Your mind is already turning to mush as the woman uses you. Her hips are jerking and you think she is about to cum but then her hips come to a stop. Pulling you off of her and pulling you up by your hair. You whimper as your scalp stings her grip tight. You’re soon face to face with the woman but not for long. She waves the restraints away and pushes you back against the door. Her hands moving to the back of your thighs signaling for you to jump. You do as she wants she catches you as you wrap your legs around her waist and she pushes you further into the door. Your chest slightly heaving as your still trying to catch your breath from the brutal throat fucking. 
“God, you're already dripping all over me. Are you so much of a whore that fucking your throat gets you off?” Agatha’s words are condescending. “I-” She cuts you off as she thrust her strap into your waiting hole. You let out a loud moan as she sheaths herself in you. “Mmm fuck.” You groan, your head falling back on the door. She starts a hard and face pace pounding into you. Your mind goes blank as the only thoughts in your head are of her. Her name is already falling from your lips like a chant. 
You hate how embarrassingly fast she is building you up. Perfectly angeling her hips hitting that spot deep inside you as her fingers dig into your hips. Her lips move to meet your neck leaving her mark behind as she pounds into you. You know you will be covered by the end of this. Nipping and sucking along her neck and chest. “Please.” You whimper out the only word your brain can form. “Please what bunny?” She smirks against your skin. She knows exactly what you want but why not toy with you a little more. 
You struggle to find the words. Her hips jackhammering into you erratically and you can tell she is just as close as you are with your walls clamping around her tightly. “Pl-please wanna cum.” You have more tears in your eyes. You try and look down at the woman begging with your tear stained face. Your arms wrapped around her back as your nails dig in leaving angry red lines in their wake. 
“Cum with me.” Agatha pecks your lips. With a few more thrust her hips stutter and you can feel a warm sticky fluid filling you up. You cry out as it triggers your own orgasm. Coating her strap in your juices as she continues to fuck into you. But she doesn’t stop there she continues to pound into you intent on keeping her promise to show you just how much she can make you cum. “Oh fuck!” You gasp. Her hips continue to drill into you faster if that was even possible. 
Agatha kissing your neck and mumbling against your skin. “This pretty little pussy is mine. No one can have you. No one can touch you, not even you. You understand me, little girl?” She grunts with every thrust. You shake your head, pleasure clouding your mind as your second orgasm nears. “I’m going to fill this pussy over and over again. All mine.” She is like an animal claiming her prey as she bites down hard on your neck. You cry out in a mix of pleasure and pain. Your orgasm unexpectedly washing over you as you cum again all over her strap. Your body arching, pressing your chest against hers as your legs shake around her waist. If she wasn’t holding you against the door you know you would be on the floor. She moans, feeling you cum again following soon after. “Mine. My little breeding bitch.” Her fingers dug in more.
You expect Agatha to slow down but she doesn’t. She continues her pace. You’ve lost count of how many orgasms you have had. Your neck and chest marked with reddish purple marks, bruises forming on your hips and thighs and she relentlessly fucks you. Your cheeks are tear stained and you’ve become a drooling whimpering mess. She fills you up again but this time when you’ve come down her hips still leaning her forehead against your shoulder. Both of you panting heavily and bodies glistening with sweat. You have no idea how she is still holding you up like this but you're too dumbed down to really care. 
When your breathing finally evens out a bit she shifts causing you to whimper. You're so overstimulated as the strap still buried inside of you moves. “Too much.” More tears stream down your face. But you can see a flicker of desire and that primal need to fill you once again. 
Agatha carries you over to the back of the couch. Her strap slips out, making you whimper more. She places you down and your legs would have given out if it weren’t for her hold on your waist. She quickly turns you around pushing your upper body over the back of the couch. “No more.” You whimper out. “Come on, bunny, just one more for me. I need to make sure you're full of me.” Her fingers trace your red puffy pussy all of your combined juices leaking out down your legs. You squirm at her actions. Your body is telling you no but your mind is begging for more. Just like she knew you would. “Okay.” Your weak voice comes out. 
That is all Agatha needs to shove her strap back into your hole. Still somehow so tight even after all the orgasms she has pulled out of you. She pulls your hands behind your back holding onto your wrist using them as leverage to pound into you. You’re both so sensitive that your orgasms are building quickly. She leans over still rutting into you and whispers in your ear. “What would mommy dearest think seeing her little girl getting fucked into oblivion but her enemy. What if I get you pregnant with my child? Poor mommy would be so mad, wouldn’t she?” Your mind reels at her words you love your mom more than anything and would never want to do anything to hurt her. But in this moment you feel so good and fucked out that all you can do is nod. 
Agatha darkly chuckles as she stands back up her hips already jerking as she comes close to filling you up again. If her spell works right you will be pregnant with her child by the end of the night. She will get her revenge on Wanda and destroy her perfect little family. Smirking at the thought of how your mother will react when she finds out you're pregnant and when she finds out just who the other parent is. Her thrust becomes rougher and digging her nails into the skin of your wrist. Her plan unfolding perfectly with as she fucks into you. So pretty and perfect the perfect puzzle piece to her plan. But even after this she thinks she will keep you. You're too perfect and pliable to let go to waist on some stupid girl. 
Agatha’s free hand reaches under your body, snaking her fingers down to your swollen clit. Pressing into it hard and pinching. You cry out form her actions but you push back none the less, helping to fuck yourself back on her strap. The pleasure is borderline painful as you become way too overstimulated. You can’t hold out much longer as Agatha toys with your clit pounding into your soaked pussy. A mix of whimpers and moans leaving your lips as grunts leave Agatha’s. 
All at once your body shakes under her. Your walls are squeezing her strap tight as you cum hard. Squirting everywhere making a mess of yourself and Agatha. She moans as your cum squirts out of you, vigorously pounding into you and circling your clit until she is emptying her load into you. Black spots start to invade your vision as Agatha rides you both through your highs. Soon the spots expand and your vision goes black and your body goes limp under her. Agatha slows to a stop before pulling out of your still spasming hole. Taking a minute to admire the cum leaking out of your gaping hole. 
Agatha picks up your limp body moving around the couch and laying you down. With a flick of her wrist you're cleaned up and so is she. She leaves your form naked admiring her handy work. She leans down next to your sleeping body. Placing her hand gently on your stomach, magic flowing through her fingers. She smiles when she feels it. Her plan worked. You’re pregnant with her child. She leans down kissing your head as her thumb rubs gently over your stomach. You’re now hers forever. 
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ponderingmoonlight · 11 months ago
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Gojo's daughter insisting on him brushing her hair because he's so gentle
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Pairing: Gojo x wife!reader
Word Count: 840
Synopsis: You are pretty suprised when your daughter insists on your husband brushing her hair depite the fact that this is normally your job. Until you find out why...
Warnings: I just have a soft spot for Gojo okay, I swear I already started writing the promised Geto fic, fluff over fluff over fluff, a little bit of dirty talk hehe
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„Come on angel, let’s get you ready for bed.”
There you stand, wearing your most comfy pyjama while leaning against the doorframe looking so delicately that Satoru has to look twice. Are you really his wife, the mother of his precious daughter who supports him like no one else? He has to be the luckiest man walking on earth.
“Are you getting me ready for bed as well?”
That bastard, he knows exactly what he’s doing. Your beloved husband pulls up his blindfold enough for you to see the unpromising dark glimmer in his bright blue orbs, the way he sits on your couch with your daughter lounging against his arm making you feel weak all over again. There aren’t many things in the world that drive you insane like he does.
Well, to be honest, absolutely nothing has the same effect on you as him.
You shake your head. Enough of that. Weren’t you here to get your little daughter into bed?
“Let’s get going”, you ask your daughter again, desperately trying to ignore the way Satoru’s eyes seem to be all over you.
Why can’t he wait until you brushed her hair and get her into bed? All those things might seem innocent to her, but you know all too well what is going on inside his beautiful dirty head.
“No!”
Wait…What? You blink a few times in sheer confusion, even Satoru staring at your daughter in disbelief. Why did that sound so energetic? After all, you just want to brush her hair like you do every evening.
“Why, honey? If we don’t brush it, you will get horrible painful knots tomorrow morning and we both don’t want that.”
She avoids your gaze at any cost and buries herself in Satoru’s black shirt. What’s the matter? It’s not like your husband brushed her hair yesterday as well. She never complained about this process once, even seemed to enjoy it from time to time. What is wrong this evening?
“I want daddy to brush my hair. He’s more gentle”, she finally mutters.
Oh. You stare at her with widen eyes, too stunned to speak for a moment. “More gentle”? Is she really talking about her father? The man who kills curses without even blinking, who will grab your very own hair roughly as soon as she’s sound asleep? You can’t contain your amusement, throwing the brush towards your also bamboozled husband.
“Absolutely no problem, angel. I’ll go and grab you something to drink for tonight, okay? Good luck, loverboy.”
With one last entertained smile at Satoru and your daughter positioning herself between his legs, you make your way to the kitchen. Did you see Satoru doing her hair once? Now that you think of it, you can’t even remember seeing him brush her hair. He’s often still at work when she goes to bed and already gone when she wakes up in the morning which leaves all those things to you. Very much to his disliking as it seemed.
“No, let me do that. I want to brush her hair this evening.”
“You…? Did you ever brush long hair, Satoru?”
“Sure, can’t be that hard-“
“Wait, please don’t use your comb on her hair. You need a brush for that.”
“So…What’s even the difference?”
You can’t help but chuckle to yourself, the look of distress on his gorgeous face when you explained him the difference between a comb and a brush still not leaving your mind. But still…what did your daughter mean when she said he’s gentle? Your eyes peak into the living room where your daughter chuckles with her father. Well, a little glance can’t hurt, right?
“So how was your day, honey?”
“I won a race today!”
“What!? Tell me everything about it!”
Your feet carry you as muted as possible to the wide opened door, feeling like a burglar as you’re on your way to stalk the two of them.
“I was in last place but-“
You can’t listen anymore, eyes fixated on the scene laying itself out in front of you. Your daughter sits between his legs with her head laid back while Satoru strokes her hair so gently and sedately that it looks like a massage. Over and over, he caresses her scalp, strokes it with his fingers, looks at her with so much love in his eyes that you are forced to supress a sniff. Oh, her hair is definitely brushed out already. But still he keeps going, listening to every word she says while leaving a little comment here and there.
“Mommy, are you spying on us?”
Instantly his gleaming eyes dart towards you, amusement filling his expression.
“I’m being gentle, ya see?”
“You definitely are”, you reply entertained while your daughter leaves his lap in order to get into bed with you.
“You’re never that gentle with my hair, though”, you whisper into his ear, grabbing for the brush between his legs.
“Oh, I’m gonna take good care of your hair when your back, babe”, he mumbles against your ear.
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Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz@darkstarlight82 @satoreo @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299 @busyreader17 @okay-it-is-ivy @starlightanyaaa
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biolumien · 8 months ago
Note
Saw some of your Hoshina Fics and it was stellar! Absolutely fucking amazing. You don’t know how damn happy I am to see Kaiju No.8 on my page. Your writing is phenomenal.
With that in mind, would it be possible to get another Hoshina request in? Preferably a Hurt/Comfort scenario. Maybe they’d have argued or something and they’re forced to actually confront each other’s insecurities. Because we like flawed adults going through their issues ✨together✨
If you’d like a more solidified vibe, try listening to Unsweetened Lemonade by Amélie Farren. It might give you some ideas!
I hope you have a wonderful day ahead of you!! :DD
notes: thank you so much for ur kind words ;-;; wahh... i love angst,... and functional relationships.... which is why i always write relationships on the verge of collapse... also thank you for the song rec!
hemming and hawing
soshiro hoshina x gn!reader theres a bit of drinking, but nothing extreme. word count: 1834
hoshina isn’t really good at communicating. for being the vice captain of a squadron of elite soldiers, where communication was often the difference between life and death–he’s really fucking bad at communication–or at least, the kind that requires you to be personal with other people.
he’s been ignoring you for days.
you’re not even sure why, at this point. you’d thought whatever relationship you were kindling was going fine, right? you weren’t exactly sure where the two of you stood, but you liked each other plenty, right? right? 
right?
so why was hoshina ignoring you? why did he sit so far away, make constant excuses to get up and leave? what the fuck was wrong with him? every time you’d grabbed him to talk–oftentimes having to physically hold him by the arm, because he’d often keep trying to walk away from you–he’d respond with one-word answers, not quite looking at you. you’d sit at your desk, so restless that your leg would bang against the underside of the table just wondering what the fuck was wrong with him. 
were his feelings a fluke?
hell, were yours?
what the fuck had you done wrong?
had you done something wrong? had you overstepped a boundary somewhere? but then again, how could you have? how could you have overstepped a boundary if he never made clear what his boundaries were? were you insane? what the fuck were you doing? or maybe the better question to ask is was soshiro hoshina worth this amount of hemming and hawing? was it worth it to lose your mind over his stupid face, when you saw him laugh at something okonogi said, or exchange quips with ashiro? was it worth it, when you knew he used to make the same faces towards you, used to look at you with something like measured affection behind his eyes–
you slam your head so hard against your desk that you can feel it starting to bruise.
no. no matter what, you were losing your mind over soshiro hoshina, damn him! damn him!
it keeps going on like this for a couple days–you try to talk to hoshina, he shrugs you off faster than any competent sentence you could possibly string together can form, and he leaves. the rest of the third division seems to notice, too–you’ve noticed twice in a row okonogi giving you a worried look. it wasn’t a hidden secret or anything that you and hoshina got along quite well, so if even okonogi was giving you a weird look…
you’d shrug, simply, give her a smile, and ignore the raging tire fire burning under your skin.
the next time you get a moment with hoshina is during a celebration party following a successful mission. you pour yourself a healthy glass of the strongest alcohol you can manage, and chug down the entire thing in one gulp, wiping your mouth inelegantly with your sleeve. and then out of the corner of your eye–
hoshina’s watching you with a half-interested look–a look more interested and engaged with you than any other time in the past few weeks–and you think the sight of that makes you angrier–so unbelievably angry, paired with new fire from alcohol underneath. 
you turn to grab hoshina by the collar, glaring up at him–
“hey, now,” hoshina says with a light laugh. “had a little too much to drink, darling?”
darling.
oh, this fucking jackass–you think you almost see red, your teeth grinding together, and you can almost feel your lips peeling back in the facsimile of a snarl. 
“you don’t get to call me that,” you whisper, voice shaking with anger, “not after you’ve fucking blown me off for weeks, soshiro.”
hoshina’s crimson eyes open a little more, staring down at you, right where your hand tightens against his shirt. you’re lucky that the hubbub of the party is keeping everyone from staring at you, which you’re furtively grateful for. you think, that maybe you see hurt reflected in his eyes, but that’s fucking ridiculous. why does he deserve to hurt? he’s the one who fucking blew you off, who didn’t talk to you for weeks despite the two of you clearly reciprocating feelings. what did he have to hurt over? 
“i’m sorry,” hoshina mutters, and he leans forward–
“don’t fucking TOUCH me!”
your voice is louder than you’d like, and that gets a couple eyes on you.
your face feels red, and you drop hoshina’s shirt. hoshina’s eyes are still watching you, his gaze unreadable for a moment before he turns to the eyes watching you, a warm smile–a clear facade, loud and clear to you, but imperceptible to most others. you know hoshina, now–you’d watched him, studied him with intensity. he couldn’t hide from you, even if he wanted to. which made the fact he’d spent weeks ignoring you more infuriating–which made this current facade, a pretending thing–so much more infuriating.
“sorry, everyone,” hoshina says. “seems like our lovely engineer here might’ve had a little too much to drink. come on, i’ll walk you back.” he looks back down at you.
his eyes have that same strange hurt still reflected in his eyes.
something about it tears your heart across unevenly. 
“okay,” you say stupidly, and you let hoshina handle your body, swing your arm over his shoulder as he pulls you up. 
the walk back sobers you up just enough–enough to realize that you’re absolutely fucking mortified–did you seriously grab him? but the better question was why didn’t he stop you? why had he just let you yell at him? why had he looked at you like that, with hurt and something like pity in his eyes? and you couldn’t even figure out what you were more mad at–
could he have done it because he thought he deserved it? 
hoshina opens up the door to your dormitory, letting you make your way to your bed. you slumped down, pressing your back against where your bed met the wall. 
“i’ll leave you alone,” hoshina murmurs. “get some rest.”
you’re angry again, upon hearing him say that. how could a guy like him push your buttons so easily? 
“so you’re just going to leave again?” you snap. “how the fuck is that fair? that’s all you’ve been fucking doing, leaving me even though all i want is to talk.  i thought you liked me!”
you hate how your voice cracks at the end, and you raise up your legs to hug them to your chest. “i thought you fucking liked me,” you whisper. “and you won’t let me talk to you, won’t let me get close–what the fuck was the point of saying you loved me if this is what you’re going to do? it’d be so much less cruel to break my heat, just say no…”
hoshina’s silent.
way too silent.
“i’m sorry,” hoshina says, and he leans down, drops on the bed next to you–the bed sags beneath his weight, and he raises a hand to touch where your hand hugs your knees to your chest–but you move away. you hate the way you almost relish in the way he seems hurt, but he places his hand between the two of you, a mediating bridge. “you can hit me, if you want.”
“what?”
you stare at him, your gaze incredulous. 
hoshina’s gaze is painfully soft, mixed with that strange pity. as if he deserves this.
“i’d deserve it,” hoshina murmurs. “i’m sorry.”
“i’m not going to hit you!” you say. “what would the point of that be? to prove yourself that you don’t deserve love? to prove to yourself you weren’t good enough? even though this is all your fault–”
hoshina’s gaze flickers at your words.
“that’s it, isn’t it? all part of your weird complex where you deny yourself things that you want!” you lean forward, reaching out to grasp him by the shirt. “so i was just fucking collateral damage to you?” you tumble for a moment, pushing him flat onto his back. he looks up at you, his lips parted for a moment. you feel your grip shaking for a moment, and your vision grows blurry– your eyes burn with tears as you shake. “i told you i knew what i wanted, you fucking idiot! i wanted you! i still want you!”
through blurred vision, you can see your tears dripping onto hoshina’s face–and hoshina just watches.
“i don’t care if you don’t think you’re not good enough,” you say through a choked sob. “you’ve always been more than good enough to me. do you get that? no, actually. you didn’t–because if you did you would have just talked to me like a normal fucking person!” you laugh desperately, crazily, almost–you feel fucking crazed. “and i’ve been driving myself mad! because of you!”
hoshina raises a hand to touch your cheek.
“take some fucking responsibility,” you rasp, tugging at his shirt. “take some responsibility for this! for what you’ve done to me!”
what a horrible thing love was.
your heart feels like it’s on fire, burned and scorched earth.
“i’m sorry,” hoshina repeats, simply. “you’re right.”
he leans up to press his forehead against yours, and you tremble.
“i was scared,” hoshina whispers. “that the things i’d said to kafka and the others–that you’d never know when you’d lose the people you love–that it’d come true. i was determined to shut myself out–make myself unknown again. i couldn’t–cross the boundary. to let myself have love. or anything like it. not from you.”
he sighs, gently nudging you to let him up. he leans close to you, presses his head against the wall to watch you. his gaze–this exact gaze, you’ve missed it. missed the way he watched you, with brimming fondness–and yet here you can see so clearly that there’s desperate pain in his eyes–bubbling and brimming just underneath the surface.
“i was struck by how much i wanted it. love. you. all of this. and i was scared because it could all just disappear so quickly,” hoshina continues. his hand touches your face, and you let that calloused touch, the familiar touch against your cheekbone, the bridge of your nose, your upper lip. “i didn’t–want to lose it. so i figured i could’ve just been happy with a little.”
“you fucking idiot,” you whisper in venomous response.
“yeah.” hoshina doesn’t deny it.
“i’ll give it to you,” you respond. “love. no matter how much you think you don’t deserve it. you don’t even have to ask.”
when hoshina looks at you again, he seems almost fractured at the possibility of it.
“i know,” he murmurs. 
“i love you,” you say, and your voice trembles for a moment. “you fucking awful piece of shit.”
hoshina laughs weakly.
“i deserve that,” he murmurs. “but i love you. i promise i do.”
you shake your head. 
“i know that,” you say. you reach out a hand to touch his face, and you can feel the smile forming on his face.
“okay,” he murmurs. “okay.”
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