#everyday i wake up against my will
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shesunety · 2 years ago
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I miss Mao Mao and I feel miserable, which led to me drawing this.
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iiusia · 3 months ago
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feel like theres a balance to strike between "people putting guidelines to being a christian (you need to read your Bible everyday, you need to need to never miss church, you should never be anxious... etc.) and saying that not doing them is sinning is wrong" and "you DO need to grow in your faith and be consistent"
#julia.txt#is not reading your Bible everyday a sin? no not really#SHOULD you do it? yes!!! how do you want to live according to God's will if you dont acquaint yourself with God's will everyday?#the flesh doesnt take a day off#is it a sin to miss church? no! should you do it? also no!!#(with the caveat of being sick or any other unavoidable circumstance)#you cannot grow closer to God if you do not commune with Him and worship Him#and that INCLUDES other meetings than sunday#i just see too many people dismiss church easily#like oh i made plans with my friends i cant come oh i took a meeting i cant come#if you want to be serious about your walk with God you cant dismiss church that easily#is it a sin to be anxious? no!!!! of course not!!#but we cannot let ourselves wallow in it either#we cant think oh im anxious its just my disposition its my mental state#we have to WORK on it. how many verses are there about God taking care of us. how many times has He assured us that He will not leave us#does that mean you'll wake up one day and you wont have anxiety anymore ? no#but it DOES mean that God can alleviate it#and. i feel it necessary to point out that if you KNOW its God's will that you do something#and you dont do it#thats a sin. you're going against God's will#knowingly#romans 14 20!!#all things indeed are pure#but it is evil for the man who eats with offense#<- if i do something that violates my conscience it is a sin for me even if it might not be In Itself a sin#we cant call everything legalism and use it as an excuse to not grow#faith posting
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bluestjayy · 1 month ago
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Since I don't have twitter rn for mental health reasons this app has become my venting space so rip you guys
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anironwitch · 11 months ago
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I am posting a short part of my fic: Some aftercare after Valentines day. In the attempts to finish this fic, this year. (OCPD and Dsygraphia make writing fics and my confidence a bitch.)
Here's a 270 word ficlet of a Florist and Tattoo Palour Ironwitch AU:
Valentine's Day is always a busy period for a flower shop.
This is THE peak holiday after the winter solstice and other holidays, with the shift from cuetlaxochitl, mistletoe, and holly to the invasion of roses soaking everything in the shop. Luckily, there were early commissions that kept the fridge. 
All filled to the brim and prepared to fend off anyone with a slight pollen allergy.
 Though some of the customers can be vexing, especially the walk-ins, it was always fun to see the regulars. 
The elementary school students clinging to their parents while buying flowers for their teachers, someone surprising their partner or friend with flowers, someone buying flowers for them themselves, and the plant parent collecting a new child.
Valentine's Day was busy in the tattoo parlor.
G O D S, there was a policy of no walk-ins her apprenticeship taught her that.. At the start of the month, there were appointments for the month, especially for Saints' Day. So she had a list of her work for the month set. In keeping with the holiday, it was usually a bombardment of roses, hearts, and "I love yous." There was the occasional inside joke and the cover-ups of an old lover's name.
As the month rolled on, both of them faded into the backstage crew to keep the holiday running as the influx of hearts and roses the question always came up.
"What are we doing for Valentine's Day?”
It was a natural question to ask, but honestly to avoid the nonstop reminder of work of someone who was in the thick of it,
 Until this year.
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king-minyard · 11 months ago
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I've come so far in regards to keeping my temper in check, but it all goes out the window when I'm tired 😣
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cowardlycowboys · 2 years ago
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wish I could afford therapy this week would love to go
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psalmsofpsychosis · 1 year ago
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one thing about me is, i'll always always always value creativity and experimental ideas and stories and new structure-breaking narratives above established "commonly valued" creations, even if the creative idea's execution is less than ideal, even if the established story is "perfect and spotless". Like, i literally dont care, unconventional and paculiar and unexpected works of art are infinitely more valuable to me whether in subpar execution state or in perfect structure. If you did it differently and did it your way your creation will always be more important to me than any predictable and "proper" narrative made in complete and utter obedience of well reinforced explicit and implicit rules. "this is very well made in all the technicalities look at all these clean details—" catch me give a fuck. It's cliche, repetitive, it's boring, i dont care. We live in a time where obedience of known metrics seemingly ranks higher than any form of outside-the-box creativity and i'm done with it. Say something new, say something personal, say something earnest and paculiar and weird or i'm out of this theater.
#in semi continuous of the same notes; if you look up in the dictionary the definition of madness is me asking for feedback on my writing#from people who are knee deep in traditional structures and have not tried a single new imagery in their entire life#like babygirl they wont love you!!!! by definition they're looking at you from a place of dismay because you're going#against their ingrained value; you're undermining the predictable known forms they love so dearly!!!!#there's no way someone like that can offer any kind of coherent and geniune feedback on your work because –hear me out–#THEY DONT FUCKING VALUE WHAT YOU DO#like their baseline attitude is ''i couldn't care less if what you created didn't exist it's irrelevant to me'' THAT'S NOT A PERSON#WHO'S GONNA HELP YOU HONE YOUR CRAFT THEY DONT GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOUR CRAFT#''i dont like poetry but–'' ''i dont write in this style but–'' ''i dont read these kinda stuff but–'' the conversation is over.#there's no buts. by the principle of being outside the framework you do not have the level of appreciation expertise and nuance it takes#to offer valuable and applicable feedback and your take may be fun but it's irrelevant ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#also another form of the barely disguised disdain is ''your creation will only be valuable if it's executed to utter perfection'' and no.#everyday i wake up and see mediocre people#celebrating utterly bland and boring mediocre writing like it's the last day of their fucking lives.#i'll not be held to standards of ''perfect performance'' just because you dont have the balls#to say that you dont enjoy and have no appreciation for creativity and experimental efforts#''it needs to be better'' is just a polite way of saying#''i dont love this but i feel bad about it so i'll trick you and myself into thinking i'll love it if it's done faultless''#there's no stage in which an effort in creativity will be faultless to you because the fault#to you#IS the creativity and deviation from the norms.#¯\_(ツ)_/¯#anyway good morning in this house we have absolutely zero value for bland cliche stereotypical generic things 🌸✨️#on art#on writing
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strawberry-death-bed · 2 years ago
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how dare it be national sleep day, AND I STILL WAKE UP AT 5AM!! WHAT TYPE OF HYPOCRISY IS THIS!??
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sweetestberryofthebunch · 4 hours ago
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Megalopolis is just what Men mean when they think about the Roman Empire
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lokissweater · 3 months ago
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talk baby ⋆。°✩
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{mlb!megumi fushiguro x f!reader}
summary: it’s the season of the world series!— your little life with megumi absolutely warm and loving as you spent every waking moment together, the both of you never failing to hang out or speak to one another since the very moment you two made it official. but when the higher ups start demanding more of megumi to bring the world series home, tiring him out and causing him to lose sleep? a wedge is driven between you both as megumi tells you words he wished he’d never said.
warnings: MDNI. afab!reader, cursing, FLUFF, ANGSTYY, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it yall), SMUT, baseball talk, megumi LOOVESS YOUU my goodness, DONINANT AF MEGUMI OBVIOUSLYYY, creampie, shower sex, DIRTY TALK megumi has a filthy mouth, megumi and reader get into a fight, it’s the world series, all characters are aged up.
word count: 12.5k (IM SORRY IM SORRY IM SORRY-)
authors note: THE WAIT IS FINALLY OVERRR FUCK i cannot thank you all enough for the support with these series. i saw all of your AMAZING suggestions and sprinkled them all over THANK YOU!! i POURED my heart into this and i really hope you all love itttttt :,( STAY TUNED FOR THE NEXT FIC OF THIS SERIES AAHHH!! I LOVE YOU MWAHHH <33
i highly highly advise you to read the first part of this fic or else you won’t be able to understand some of the storyline and references :( you can find it here!
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megumi fushiguro loved how much you talked.
“—and then i went to the bakery down the street from my campus to get that one coffee cake i always get? the one you brought me after my class?”
“mhm.”
“but they were freaking out of it it’s like they knew i was coming to take their stock man. it was seven in the morning how the fuck are you out of coffee cake?”
megumi laughed softly and pressed a slow sweet kiss to your cheek, readjusting his arms around your waist as he scooched your body closer to his on his lap, the both of you on his huge black bean bag that sat in his living room as he leaned the side of his head back on your shoulder, relaxed and a little sleepy.
“so then i had to go to the one on campus, even though i already know it doesn’t taste the same…” you sighed sadly. “what if they did that on purpose? what if they want me to stop coming?”
megumi huffed an amused breath through his nose and shook his head gently against your shoulder. “don’t think so baby. i feel like you keep them in business with how much you go.”
you huffed and crossed your arms, grumbling. “yet they treat me like this...”
tilting your head down then to get a better look at him, you peeked at his sleepy face and tired eyes as he tried his absolute hardest to stay awake for you, wanting to listen to everything you had to say and more, but his eyelids drooping every couple of seconds before opening back up again just not letting him.
you smiled softly and carded your fingers through his black hair, pushing the front strands back and giving him a cute peck on his forehead.
“take a nap gumi… you’re so tired i can see it.”
“uh uh.” megumi hummed.
he lifted his head groggily and propped his chin up on your shoulder, eyes closed.
“keep going.” he murmured, his words a little slurred. “did you end up getting your coffee cake from the other bakery..?”
“i did.” you responded softly, caressing your thumb over his warm cheek as your soothing voice lulled him. “it was nasty. the end. c’mon baby you have practice tomorrow—”
“no.”
“gumi it’s late i don’t want to keep you uuupp.” you whined, nudging him.
“if you sleep over.” he mumbled.
“but i have class tomorrow.”
“i’ll take you.”
“but you always do and i feel bad…” you pinched his cheek softly. “it’s okay i can—”
“don’t care.”
you giggled. “well i do. i want you to get more sleep gumi, your practices are crazy long now and you have them like everyday—”
he groaned loudly and ushered you up, you complying as you watched him lazily stand from the bean bag and grab you, baggy eyes half lidded as he picked you up from around your legs and threw you over his shoulder— something he always did ever since the day he confessed, and something you absolutely floored over whenever he did it.
your giggles rang through his quiet and spacious apartment that made him sleepily smile as he lazily carried you down the hall and to his room, setting you softly to sit on his plush bed as he pressed a sleepy kiss to the top of your head, though nearly almost missing, him leaning back up and grabbing the hem of his black shirt— pulling it over his head and carelessly tossing it somewhere in the room before climbing into bed.
you felt so so bad. the team’s schedule was released just two weeks prior, and seeing as the world series was coming up— the most important segment of competitive games they could possibly ever have, the coaches and managers were grinding and overworking their players to pure fucking filth, them wanting to keep their streak as the number one baseball team no matter what it took.
and because of that, megumi was always so tired and stressed— holding on day by day as the higher ups demanded so much of him because he was the most skilled on the team, him spending his days trying to stay awake and make time for you— picking you up from class and taking you out to lunch like he always did, but your worried gaze always on his dark under eyes as you insisted and told him already that you understood, that he didn’t need to right now if it was over the subject of his career.
and especially if it was for the world series.
“lay down.” he murmured, patting the pillow next to him as he peeked at you with one eye open.
you stood, pulled the covers back and hopped in, megumi’s arm immediately snaking around your waist and pulling your back to his bare chest, his face nuzzling in your hair as you noticed how quickly his breathing deepened, falling asleep almost the minute you got settled in his arms and fitting like a little puzzle piece.
it had been almost an entire year since you and megumi started dating, and you have never ever been happier in your life as you thanked your lucky stars over and over again for being such a dumbass— wholly believing that if one thing had changed, it wouldn’t have played out the way that it did.
and you adored the way that it played out.
megumi was so affectionate. everyday. his love language being physical touch as he literally never left you alone and always had to be touching you in any given situation— like his hand on your thigh whenever he drove, playing with your fingers from across the table while out at a restaurant… and like now, his toned body literally engulfing you into his that it made you feel so cared for and warm and loved, something you always wanted to feel for the rest of your life as long as it was with him.
the next morning he drove you to school like he said he would, and then went straight to practice after, you telling him that you would be there once your classes were over.
and when you did get to the stadium later that day, megumi was mad.
“what the fuck happened?” you quickly sat next to your best friend on the sidelines, her snickering as you both watched megumi tell off another player for fumbling a double play on the field.
“they’re making more errors today,” your girl friend sighed. “they’re all nervous since their division series game is tomorrow and they’re getting closer to the big thing… but megumi is not having it.”
“you bobbled the ball go to first fucking base and eat it what the hell are you doing trying to—”
you gnawed at your bottom lip.
it was common for megumi to bark out orders and take charge on the field, that wasn’t out of the ordinary, but it was only here and there where he was yelling and insulting the rest of his teammates like that (mostly rarely). a sign you knew was because he was stressing the fuck out.
“what you just did was a kiddie fucking error we won’t make it to the world series like this dingus the fuck are you—”
you covered your face and groaned. “i can’t watch… i don’t think i’ve seen him like this since that one day he asked me to come here.”
“you mean the day he ate you out in—”
“shuuushhh!” your hands shot out and slapped over her mouth as she let out a muffled laugh, your eyes wide and cheeks pink as you frantically looked around to see if anybody had heard her.
she took your wrists then and pulled them away. “have you guys even had sex yet? how many times am i gonna ask you until you say yes—”
you nudged her away. “no! we haven’t yet.”
you didn’t know why you hadn’t— the topic just one that was never brought up by either of you.
but you’ve definitely done other things though.
megumi was like a dog, not knowing the meaning of ‘keep your hands to yourself’ as he was always groping your ass in public out of no where just to hear you squeak in surprise, shoving his hands down your pants and making you cum repeatedly on his fingers when you’re both innocently just watching a movie on his couch, pressing his face into your tits and sucking hickeys whenever you wore a low cut shirt, and bullying his way in between your legs to lick and devour you up whenever he felt like it— all things he did with zero hesitation nor self control.
you weren’t complaining though, definitely not— you were just as freaky.
because every time megumi wore those gray sweatpants after practices that you loved oh so very much, no shirt on with his perfect toned body out only for your eyes— your mouth was on him, licking his chest all the way down to his pelvis, tugging the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers down until all that was left before you was his mlb dick, you taking him into your mouth and sucking the absolute life out of him until he was shaking and breathlessly chanting your pretty name like a prayer—
“break!”
you pulled yourself from your thoughts and stood, your eyes already watching the way megumi walked over from across the field with his head down, chest heaving and his face glistening with sweat against the setting sun, his baseball uniform covered in dirt.
both you and your girl friend walked down the steps and towards the bullpen, you quickly grabbing a clean white hand towel from the gatorade jug rack beforehand and catching up, spotting yuji and megumi already seated inside on a bench.
upon megumi noticing you coming up, he smiled softly, tiredly.
“you guys are sucking today.” your best friend deadpanned, and you elbowed her.
“no. you guys just look really nervous… is everything okay?”
you took a seat next to megumi and silently offered the clean towel, him gently bringing up your extended wrist and pecking it in gratitude before taking the towel and wiping down his face, your cheeks flushing in response.
yuji sighed deeply and shook his head, scratching the back of his neck. “everyone’s literally losing it. we win every year but each year that comes is extra added pressure to keep that up.”
megumi nodded wordlessly in agreement, his head hung.
“well this is your first bad practice isn’t it?” you softly mentioned.
“yeah… maybe it’s just today and you guys will be okay tomorrow.” your girl friend added, smiling comfortingly at yuji, him giving her the same smile back but with apprehension in his eyes.
“would’ve been fine if it was yesterday.” megumi cut in, voice monotone. “not today. not when it’s the last leg for the world series.”
he leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms with closed eyes, yuji nodding next to him.
you pulled your lips into a thin line, heavy anxiety brewing in your chest at the thought of them possibly losing before even getting into the league championships, something their team has never done before as they’ve always just gone straight through.
in order to get through to the world series, their team has to win the division series and the league championships, then they earn their rightful shining spot of playing in the world series and winning— something megumi has been a part of for almost three years now, and something the team has dominated over for five consecutive years straight.
but what if this year was different?
“how are you feeling?” you gently asked megumi after a bit. “i saw you were a little mad today on the field…”
he slowly pried his eyes open and looked at you, sighing softly through his nose.
“m’fine pretty baby.” he murmured. “they’re just not playing like they should be.”
megumi took his cap off and scratched the side of his head, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. “and neither am i to be honest.”
your eyes softened.
“what do you mean?”
“m’just not meeting the standards i set for myself.”
“but you play well in every game gumi..” you mumbled. “don’t overwork yourself please. just keep doing what you’ve been doing… it’s been going great so far, hasn’t it?”
he gave you a little smile and lazily reached up to delicately caress and run the ends of your hair through his fingers. “i need to amp it up though. i need to try harder.”
“try harder when you’re already winning?” you quirked a confused brow.
he nodded.
“what’s the reason behind that?”
megumi gave you a sly smile. “because you’ll be watching me.���
you gawked, shaking your head at him. “gumi, you know anything that you do makes me freak out and it’s embarrassing...” you subconsciously tugged a bit at the sides of his jersey. “the way you tied my shoes for me the other day made me freak out. the way you pumped my gas last week made me freak out. the way you stuck your fingers inside my pu—”
his eyes bulged open as he shot forward and muffled you with a kiss, you kissing him back and laughing cutely once he pulled away.
“nasty mouth…” he mumbled, but the little grin on his face made you giggle as he put his cap back on over his head and nudged it down, trying to conceal his eyes and the blushing of his cheeks— but you catching on anyways.
“how was class?” he asked quietly, readjusting his cap. “did you get your coffee cake after i dropped you off?”
you shook your head. “no because i’d rather die than get the one on campus. they need to close that place down.”
megumi snorted, but his eyebrows pinched momentarily as he took your hand in his and started playing with your fingers. “you should’ve told me. i would’ve drove you to the one you like.”
“no gumi i wasn’t gonna make you do that... i wanted you to sleep in as much as possible.”
“i’ll take you after practice.”
“no! you need to nap after don’t waste time—”
“m’not wasting time.” he replied, but before you could get another word in, his coach called all players back on field.
“i’ll see you after.” he stood and pecked your forehead. “i love you pretty baby.”
you smiled shyly, your cheeks a cute pink.
“i love you too.”
thankfully, megumi didn’t seem as pissed off for the rest of practice, and you hoped it was because of the little chat you had with him in the bullpen prior and that it cheered him up in some way— the team playing a lot better and actually working together this time instead of being at each others throats over feeble mistakes.
and when they were all finally back at the locker rooms packed up and ready to go, you organized his clean uniform for tomorrow and hung his gloves neatly inside his locker, closing it once you were done.
“you don’t have to do that baby.” he murmured, gesturing to his locker as he swung his duffel bag over his shoulder and extended a hand. “organize. i can do that.”
“but i like doing it...” you took his offering hand and interlaced your fingers with his. “it helps you find things quicker.”
you both stepped out, quickly bidding your girl friend and yuji goodbye on the way as you walked down the echoey hallway together.
“—you also don’t have to drive me to school every morning but you do that anyways.”
he smiled. “touché.”
he led you out of the arena and over to the private parking area for players and crew— him opening the passenger side door for you to step inside and shutting it after, throwing his duffel bag to the back once he got in the drivers seat.
and like he always did, megumi buckled you up himself, grabbing the seat belt strap and pulling it over you to click on the other side with a kiss to your cheek— him never letting you do it yourself since the day you two properly met.
“do they sell food at the bakery?” he looked over at you as he pulled out. “they do don’t they.”
“they do!” you nodded sweetly. “but we’re not going.”
“why.”
“because you need to sleep—”
“no.”
“megumi—”
he shot you a glare and you squeaked.
“gumi! i-i meant gumi!”
he fixed his glare and broke out into a small smile instead, laughing lightly as he set his big hand over your thigh and squeezed lovingly.
you giggled softly.
“lunch first and then i’ll sleep.”
“oh my—”
you reached over for the door handle and pulled, brows furrowing once the lock wouldn’t budge after multiple frantic tries.
“you still have child lock on?!”
megumi shielded his mouth to hide his snicker, eyes to the road.
“uh huh.”
“why?!”
he gave you a deadpanned look and pointed to the door. “exhibit a, baby. the car is moving.”
“gumi if you hate me just say that.”
pulling into the bakery’s parking lot, he playfully rolled his eyes at your comment and pinched your cheek gently.
“be quiet.”
the bakery was a cute little place that was a frequent pit stop for the both of you to pick up breakfast on the way to the things you had to do in the mornings— always cozy and warm and filled with little trinkets and postcards of places from around the world, you always gushing when you or megumi would spot a new souvenir on the walls or on the shelves, and him sometimes having to stop you from snatching some for yourself…
“they have a million!” you whispered. “they won’t notice this one. please it’s from greece it’ll look cute on my fridge!”
megumi sipped his lemonade and gave you a half lidded look as you both sat in a booth.
“i don’t know if anyone has ever told you this but.” he gently slid the coffee cake closer to you, silently ushering you to eat. “that’s called stealing.”
“not if they don’t notice.”
megumi gave you an amused smile.
“i’ll take one for you too!”
“for me?”
“yeah!” you put your elbow on the table and propped your chin on your palm, tilting your head with the cutest expression megumi has ever seen in his fucking life.
“i’d do anything for you.”
his cheeks flooded pink, and he swallowed thickly.
megumi would do anything for you.
“i appreciate that pretty baby,” he murmured, tenderly tracing the pad of his index finger mindlessly around the back of your hand.
“great! so can i do it?”
“no.”
“maaannnn!” you slumped over the table and pouted. “you’re no fun.”
he chuckled and took a bite out of his ham and cheese deli, your mannerisms sometimes reminding him of his dad.
he swallowed.
“gojo wants to meet you.”
you froze. “really? he does?”
megumi nodded.
“okay! that’s okay— wait no! wait—” you groaned and leaned against the booth. “i don’t think he’s gonna like me very much…”
“huh?” his eyebrows furrowed. “why do you say that?”
you peered up at him sheepishly. “because i talk too much… i’m not gonna notice and end up telling him my lore, my school gpa, and my social security number.”
megumi laughed, and your heart fluttered at the sight of his crinkling eyes and gorgeous smile, the sound of it making you swoon.
he shook his head and rubbed his sleepy eyelids. “no baby... he’d love you. i know he would.”
“i don’t know gumi…” you sighed, looking down at your lap. “i want to meet him of course! that’s a given… but..”
megumi quirked a brow. “but?”
“i just don’t want to look stupid…” you laughed nervously. “it’s happened before where my friends parents say i’m a blabber mouth and i don’t want to embarrass you—”
his tired eyes narrowed. “blabber mouth? who’s saying you’re a blabber mouth?”
“my— my ex boyfriend in high school…” you cowered a little. “but it’s okay because i was over sharing!—”
“no.” he said firmly, his gaze looking directly into yours. “you’re not a blabbermouth. there’s a difference between being really open and friendly with people right off the bat and being a blabbermouth.”
megumi shook his head in annoyance. how could someone ever say you were a blabbermouth? he had never heard something that was so far from the truth.
you were too sweet for your own good, that was your only fault. you considered everyone you met a close friend of yours and weren’t afraid to tell them whatever came to your precious mind and made them feel welcome— something that megumi adored so much about you… so much, and something that made him borderline violent when people berated you for it.
“they just can’t handle it when someone is actually genuine. like you. and that’s not your fault.”
the shiniest smile grew on your face then, your eyes sparkling and feeling like a million fucking butterflies were fluttering all over your tummy— internally screaming at his words.
“thank you gumi…” you spoke softly. “i’m glad at least you don’t see an issue with it.”
“i don’t.” he shook his head. “i don’t at all.”
he loved it.
the rest of your lunch date was spent with megumi still not letting you steal the greece trinket magnet from the wall, you scolding him for the bags under his eyes, and him buying you two more slices of coffee cake to go no matter how many times you told him it was okay, the both of you gathering your things and going back to his car after a bit for him to drop you off back home.
“i’ll be here in the morning to take you to class.” he said gently, turning the corner and nearing your street.
“what? isn’t the division series game tomorrow?” you asked, taken aback. “gumi no just get as much sleep as you can it’s a big day. i can take myself.”
he looked at you boredly.
“no.”
“guumiii!”
he pulled into your driveway and shifted his gear into park, the corners of his mouth turned upward into a little goofy grin.
“i can take you baby it’s fine,” he pushed gently. “don’t worry.”
“you’ve been stressed though… and tired.”
you unbuckled your seatbelt and reached over, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in as he immediately leaned in and tucked his face into your neck, breathing in your honeyed perfume and letting himself slump into your soft frame.
“please promise me that after the division series, you’ll rest up like crazy before the league championships.” he pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes nearly closing as he sleepily blinked. “okay?”
“league championships? didn’t know we already won.” he murmured.
you giggled. “obviously. you’re my cool baseball man, are you not?”
he tiredly grinned and pressed a sweet sweet kiss to your cheek, him biting down on it after and making you yelp before snickering and pulling away.
“bye gumi,” you quickly grabbed a slice of coffee cake and placed it on his leg. “here eat this on the way home so you don’t fall asleep.”
he chuckled and watched as you grabbed your things, hopped out, and ran across the front of his car, leaning your head in through his open window once you reached him and pressing your soft lips to his, megumi fucking melting at the feeling.
you pulled apart and he pecked you one last time— a series of i love you’s iterated before you backed away and waved excitedly from your front door, him waiting until you were inside to reverse, his engine roaring and his black car shining against the moonlight as he sped down the street.
the next morning you got up around the time that you usually did, showered and did your hair and got ready for class, packed your school bag and made your bed—
but megumi hadn’t texted you. like at all.
he usually sent you a good morning text, followed by him letting you know when he was leaving the house, followed by when he was on his way, and followed by when he was just down the street and pulling up.
except you got nothing.
you figured maybe today was just one of those days where he maybe just simply forgot and was already on his way, but as you stood literally outside of your house, gnawing on your thumb and the time coming painfully close to the start of your morning class as you still got nothing from megumi (even when you had texted him multiple times at this point), you started shitting it.
just as you were about to run inside to get the keys to your car, your phone buzzed as a picture of you and megumi flashed across the screen.
megumi!
“hel—”
“baby!—” he breathed out, frantic. “baby i’m sorry i’m so sorry i’m coming okay im down the street—”
“what happened?” you breathed out worriedly, your heart hammering against your chest.
“i overslept!—” he explained quickly. “i’m late to the team’s call time and— and you’re late to class and i— fuck!”
you heard his horn blare and his tires screech as muffled curses flew from his mouth, you jumping at the noise.
“sorry sorry someone cut me off i’m almost there—”
“no gumi go straight to the stadium you’re late!” you spoke firmly. “i can take myself—”
“no but i wanted to see you before the game—”
“it’s fine we can see each other after the game okay? when you win—” you grabbed your keys from the coffee table by your door and ran out, unlocking your car and getting in. “you’re late baby so fucking late please turn back this isn’t good coach is gonna chew you out—”
“shit! i know i know—”
“go gumi hang up it’s okay!”
“okay.. fuck okay okay—”
you heard rustling on the other line before he spoke again.
“i love you i’m sorry ill see you after!”
and the line went dead.
you slugged through the rest of your classes as the day felt way fucking longer than it normally did, you desperately just wanting to see megumi and know that he was okay, that he wasn’t in trouble with his coach and the management team for being over an hour late to the division series call time, you on the verge of literal tears multiple times over him.
your best friend and you had planned to get ready for the game together and sport your men’s jerseys from the stands— a girl’s night you were agonizingly looking forward to all freaking month, and so so excited that the day was finally here to support and be present for the making of yet another year for the boys’ team.
“and then he hung up. i thought he was gonna get into a wreck man—”
you ran your fingers through your styled hair in your vanity mirror, your best friend readjusting her jersey behind you— ‘itadori’ in big capital letters on the back.
“megumi is the most hard headed mean stubborn man i have ever come across in my life.” she searched around in her makeup bag, pulling out her lip liner and reapplying next to you. “i don’t know how many times you told him to sleep and get some rest. and yuji too! he hasn’t stopped talking about him since the schedule change and now i’m starting to think he’s in love with him.”
you laughed loudly.
“i know…” you sighed anxiously through your nose, nervous clammy jitters in your chest. “his eye bags have gotten so bad this past week.”
“i think it’s because he’s been practicing over time.”
you stopped.
“what do you mean?”
she looked at you quizzically. “i thought you knew? yuji told me that the higher ups had a meeting with megumi and told him that they were expecting him to bring the world series home.”
she popped the lid back on her lip liner and threw it in her bag. “he practices all night on the field until like four am.”
“what the fuck?” your eyes narrowed. “he never told me that? he picks me up for my seven am class everyday… that means he’s only been getting what— like two and a half hours of sleep this past week?”
she stopped. “he didn’t tell you?”
“no!” you exclaimed. “when was this meeting?”
“at the start of last week.”
“oh my god.” you grumbled.
why didn’t he tell you?
“that’s fucked up.” she shook her head. “talk to him about that after babe… i don’t know why this man didn’t tell you something like that.”
“i would’ve never let him pick me up for class if i knew this was going on…” you gloomily fiddled with the buttons on your jersey. “or hang out with me after practice.”
and why the hell were the higher ups demanding so much from megumi? why were they burning him out with a responsibility so huge as to ensuring the success of the team for the world series? that wasn’t fair to him. that wasn’t fair at all.
your girl friend hugged you comfortingly.
“it’s fine don’t worry about it okay?… just talk to him after.”
once at the stadium, you and your best friend squeezed and pushed through the crowd to get to the v.i.p. section, the both of you sweating and panting over having run across the stadium’s parking lot and the main area, all because your best friend couldn’t decide which way to do her hair, and because you couldn’t decide if you should wear a skirt or jeans.
you ended up choosing for each other and calling it a day.
“hey! you guys!”
you both snapped your heads up and you recognized the source of the voice as one of the assistant crew members of the team, jogging up to you guys with two devices in his hands.
“you guys want these radios or are you good? they’re connected to the announcers and have earbuds!”
“oh i’ll take one! thank you!” you answered politely, smiling as he passed you and your best friend a radio.
you pushed the earbud into your left ear and sat.
the crowd was buzzing and cheering with excitement, flashes of light shimmering throughout the sold out stadium as many held up posters and signs or bobble heads, you smiling wide every time you spotted a few of megumi’s face and name.
the air was warm, and every kind of news reporter, publicist, and journalist was present on the sidelines as they filmed and interviewed several players from the opposing team.
“let’s play ball!”
the crowed roared, claps and whistles ringing through the air as yuji walked out from the dugout, the both of you screaming as the rest of the team followed suit, your shoulders evidently relaxing at the sight of megumi jogging out into position looking absolutely jaw dropping in his clean cut uniform and cap, serious and focused.
as the game ensued, it was no surprise that the boys’ team was absolutely demolishing the opposing players, megumi doing fucking stellar out on the field as he caught ball after ball with his glove, the announcers commentary certainly helping with explaining the context of the game due to your lack of knowledge, but you trying your hardest anyways to understand on your own.
and finally after a while of switching sides and megumi hitting like a greek god, the teams switched sides what seemed like the final time since it was almost the nine inning, his turn to hit.
“walking up to base now… number eighteen— megumi fushiguro!”
the crowd went fucking insane as he walked up, you immediately standing and screaming over the railing as he took his position up there— swinging soft faux hits before properly adjusting his footing on the loose dirt, fans waving around their fushiguro banners or his baseball cards as he settled.
the bags under his eyes…
you gnawed anxiously at your bottom lip. his team was so close to moving on to the league championships…
“and the pitcher throws….”
hit!
“strike one!”
megumi screwed his eyes shut and grimaced, shaking his head furiously as he shook the nerves from his body and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.
“oh!” the announcers groaned. “looks like megumi fushiguro missed a hit for the first time in history!”
for the first time?
you whipped your head around to face your girl friend. “for the first time?”
she looked at you with the same terrorized expression.
“fuck i knew he always hit but i didn’t know he never missed…” you whined worriedly. “he’s exhausted man i can see it look—”
megumi’s footing slightly slipped from the dirt as he positioned himself, getting ready for the next swing.
“and the pitcher throws again…”
hit!
“strike two!”
“fuck!” megumi roared, walking off the home plate and chucking his bat to the wall— the wood flying and clattering as it hit the ground, your eyes widening in horror.
“woah looks like fushiguro got another strike and.. needs to take a breather off the field..?”
“if megumi doesn’t get this next hit, they’re done!” your girl friend shook her head, eyes wide and afraid. “the other team is gonna take it!”
you ran your fingers through your hair exasperatedly, frantically looking at the scoreboard and back at megumi who was pacing a little off the plate with his head down, his hands on his hips.
“fushiguro!” you spotted yuji yelling from the dugout. “get back on the plate! we could get flagged!”
megumi’s chest heaved as he picked up his bat and wiped off the dirt, walking back over to the home plate and repositioning himself.
cameras flashed and recorded as he tried to get back into focus, news reporters talking their asses off and journalists scribbling god knows what— as they just earned themselves their biggest headline of the season.
megumi fushiguro missed his first hit in playing history.
“and the pitcher throws…”
hit!
“oh there it goes! looks like a fair ball!”
the crowd rallies as megumi books it over the first two bases, everyone watching as the ball hits over the outfield fence as he fucking dashes across the remaining two bases like nothing, earning himself a home run—
and scoring a spot in the league championship games for his team.
you and your best friend jump for complete joy, throwing your arms around each other and swaying as fans all around you celebrated and cheered just like the both of you, you happily watching the players from the dugout run up and engulf megumi in a group hug, jumping and laughing.
as the crowd began to disperse and take leave, you both quickly ran down the steps and to the field, you immediately spotting megumi and running up to him with your arms out.
“gumi!”
he noticed you and extended his arms, but his face read nothing as you jumped into them.
“good job good job! you did so amazing!”
“nice fushiguro!” yuji nudged his shoulder. “you brought us through!”
“i missed the first two hits.”
he set you back down.
yuji shrugged. “so? it happens. i do it all the time! you made a home run and scored us the league.”
megumi only silently nodded, his face to the ground as you told yuji and your best friend that you would see them in the locker rooms with everybody else.
and once everyone had cleared out from the field, you turned to him.
“hey…” you started. “what’s wrong?”
his eyes remained glued to the dirt.
“i missed the first two hits.”
your shoulders deflated. “you heard what yuji said… it’s okay. it was bound to happen but it’s fine because you fixed it—”
“we were on thin fucking ice today.”
his snippy tone took you by surprise a bit.
“yes… but you made it...” you responded softly. “you all pulled through. especially you.”
he scoffed and shook his head, him finally raising his baggy eyes and looking to the side, pissed.
“i almost cost us the league. that’s what i did.”
“gumi—” you exhaled a frustrated breath. “you literally played like a machine the entire time and had other hits that were amazing? i don’t understand why two little strikes—”
his eyes snapped to yours. “two little strikes?” he shook his head again. “two strikes too fucking many.”
“what is your issue?—”
“my issue is that if i fucked up that third hit it would’ve been all over. we would’ve lost the division, lost the league, and lost the world series, all because i don’t know how to fucking play ball—”
“yes you do! you’re being way too hard on yourself baby you need to take a breather and rest—”
“how many times have you nagged me about that already.” he spat.
you froze.
“nagged?” you repeated softly.
“yes. you’ve told me enough times i get it i need rest, i need sleep, i need this i need that—”
“i’m saying that because look at you!” you motioned with your hands, feeling potential tears prickling at the back of your eyes at the way he was speaking to you. “your under eyes are dark and purple, your eyes are red you look exhausted!”
“and i told you i’m fine!” he raised his voice a bit. “you wouldn’t understand the shit that i have to do for this team the shit i have to pull and i gave them absolute garbage today—”
“oh my god megumi!” you snapped. “your team is a team effort! it’s not just you! you’re not the only one pulling the stops so enough with trying to take on this load and overwork yourself! please you played amazing today everyone was cheering so loud for you and—”
“stop talking.”
you paused.
“just—” he rubbed his tired eyes and turned to the side. “just please stop talking.”
stop… talking?
he struck a chord, and you felt your heart literally break at his words, an aching heavy pit in your chest as you recounted his yelling and snappiness when all you were trying to do was help him.
thats all you’ve ever tried to do for megumi really— help him, support him, and love him. but for him to throw it all back in your face and say you didn’t understand? for you to basically shut up?
tears were slipping past your eyes at this point, and when you felt like megumi finally bothered to look at you in the face, his eyes widened and his shoulders dropped.
“baby—”
“and what about you?”
he stopped. “about me—”
“yes about you. you’re saying i don’t understand anything you’re fucking going through, as if i haven’t followed you through your career since the moment we met and before that, like i haven’t supported you on the sidelines and asked you question after question about your games just so i can fucking understand—”
“no i—”
you cut him off. “and then you’re here— yelling at me, telling me off, and telling me to shut up when i’m the only one fucking standing here with you after the game trying to be there for you?!—”
“baby— fuck i’m sorry okay i didn’t mean—”
you laughed bitterly. “you didn’t mean it. didn’t mean what? to accidentally let it slip that you actually do think i’m a blabbermouth?”
he was taken aback as his eyebrows furrowed, shaking his head desperately. “no— no that’s not what i meant at all y/n i’m sorry. i’ve been so stressed and tired and i’m taking it all out on you right now and— and that’s not okay and not an excuse.”
megumi quickly stepped forward and placed his hands on your face, but you pushed him away, hurt flashing across his eyes as you did so.
“and why didn’t you tell me about the meeting huh? the one with the higher ups last week?”
surprise crossed his face. “how did you—”
“doesn’t matter how i heard it. why didn’t you tell me? do you understand how that makes me feel when i have to find out through someone else and not my own boyfriend?”
he ran a hand through his spiky black hair and sighed exhaustedly.
“i didn’t tell you because i knew you would be upset about it and i didn’t want you to worry—”
“so you just chose to keep it from me that’s real nice.” you spat. “of course i wouldn’t be happy with it they’re stripping you down and exploiting you! how could they say that it’s all on you to bring it home for the world series? do you understand how insane that sounds?”
“i know but i can’t tell them anything i just have to say yes!” he explained.
“you have every right to tell them something! and if you would’ve communicated this with me like you should’ve done, i wouldn’t have let you lose so much sleep over me and maybe you wouldn’t have played the way you think you played, and you wouldn’t be standing here shitting all over me!”
he really struck a chord.
“y/n—”
“bye megumi.”
his breath hitched.
“no— hey don’t do that—”
he scrambled after you as you made your way out of the field, him quickly catching up and tugging you into him with his long arms around your shoulders, bringing your back to his front as he ducked his face down.
“let’s fix it please we need to fix this—”
“i want to be alone right now, megumi.” you mumbled.
god he hated how many times you’ve called him that already tonight, feeling like the biggest asshole to ever grace your precious life.
“no i don’t want you to be upset with me please—”
“we can talk later on the phone.” your tone was lifeless. “i just need to be alone.”
he faltered, feeling gutting pain cascade all over his body as he hesitantly, slowly, slipped his arms away and released you.
“o—okay.”
he watched you walk up the stands and to the exit as you clutched yourself, his eyes catching the back of your jersey reading his last name that sent an immediate pang through his chest, your frame disappearing from his view and leaving him in his stupid thoughts as he snatched his cap off from his head and threw it to the side in frustration.
that night megumi tried to call you but you didn’t pick up, you barely even answering his texts as he wallowed in self pity alone in his apartment.
and you hadn’t stopped crying since the moment your tears hit on the field— hurt and exhausted and guilty as you settled into bed, unable to bring yourself to call him and go through with your word, deciding to text instead.
(you): i’m really tired i’m sorry. i’ll see if i can call you in the morning.
megumi took no time at all to respond.
(gumi <3): can i take you to class tomorrow?
(you): i don’t think that’s a good idea
he swallowed the lump in his throat and fought back the urge to fight it, wanting to respect you and your space.
but you only kept crying.
(gumi <3): okay
(you): goodnight
(gumi <3): goodnight pretty baby
just as you were about to place your phone back on your nightstand, it buzzed again.
(gumi <3): i love you i’m sorry
you sniffled and put your phone away officially, choosing not to respond.
the following week leading up to the league championship game, megumi spent every waking moment trying to make it up to you, trying to fix it, but you only seemed to stay away from him and distance yourself, something that hurt megumi like no other.
you felt like it was your fault he played the way he did that day. if you had been smarter, more mindful, you would’ve noticed that the intensity of his exhaustion was extremely abnormal, and perhaps you could’ve done something about it before it was too late and saved yourself the dreadful fight you had with him.
you hated the way you spoke to him, and you fully convinced yourself that you only served as a distraction for him, opting to keeping your distance as far away as possible so it allowed megumi to get his head focused again and ensure a promised route to the world series— something you had hoped to be there to witness, but deeming his success way more important than your needs at this point in time.
so you stopped going to all of his practices following that day, the fact tormenting megumi as you always went to each and every single one and was there for him without fault— rain or shine, always waiting for him in the locker rooms when he was finished.
but you weren’t there anymore. and each day you weren’t was another day megumi would spend angry and frustrated with himself that he did what he did. he knew your defense mechanism was pushing people away, and your current behavior gave him flashbacks to the time last year when he was falling for you and you kept running away from him, scared— those actions a carbon copy of what’s happening now, except far worse.
and he did that to you. he yelled at you and snapped at you, told you to stop talking for some fucking reason that he still couldn’t find the proper explanation for… and he made you cry. so much. your usual sweet honeyed voice you spoke to him with long gone since that day.
and he missed you. more than anything.
“you stupid—” throw “self absorbed—” throw “asshole—” throw “narcissistic—” throw—
“okay that’s enough that’s enough!”
yuji pulled your best friend back as she chucked towel after towel at megumi following one of their practices, her absolutely fuming.
he took every hit, not bothering to dodge. he deserved it.
“she told me what you did—” she shook herself away from yuji’s grip. “what the hell is the matter with you? how could you yell at her like that on the field? when all she’s ever done is love you—”
“i know.” megumi mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “i know i’m really sorry. i regret it.”
“fuck yeah you should,” she scoffed. “that woman’s been cooped up every day in her room bawling her eyes out over you!”
yuji nodded sadly, and megumi let out a pained breath as he closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands, propping his elbows on his knees, leaning forward.
“fuck me…”
“yeah fuck you—”
“okay! okay. he’s already down let him bleed out.” yuji muttered to her as he rubbed his hands over her arms soothingly, an attempt at calming her down.
he looked at him. “megumi, you and i both know that she understands you were frustrated that day. the both of you. if you just talk to her—”
“you think i haven’t tried?” megumi picked his head up, and the both of them froze at the way his eyes glossed over.
“i’ve— i’ve called her, i’ve texted her, i drove by her house but she’s never there, fuck i even went to her campus at seven in the morning but couldn’t find her.”
he took his cap off and roughly rubbed over his eyes again.
your best friend sighed then after a moment, slowly stepping forward and sitting down next to him on the bench.
“she’ll come around megumi.” she mumbled. “just give her some time. i know it’s hard, but she really really loves you.” she sighed deeply. “she’ll come around.”
megumi nodded solemnly, and yuji stepped forward, patting his shoulder.
“you okay man?”
he nodded again.
missed phone calls, lagging dry texts, and last minute cancellations from you all happened for a week straight.
and when the time finally came for the league championships, megumi wanted nothing more than for you to be there as he stared at his messy fucking locker when prepping for the game— another reminder that you hadn’t been around, and another reminder that you wouldn’t be here tonight to see him, something he completely did not blame you for.
luckily, the league championship game was at their home base once more, and as the crowd got settled to watch, energies heightened as the players all got settled over the field to play ball— megumi shook the nerves from his body as he focused with the game, and you, on his mind like a religion.
and as the game ran on with the team scoring run after run, another win was blatantly obvious for them— megumi entirely unaware of your presence that was watching him the entire time in the stands.
you couldn’t help yourself. you needed to be there to watch him, needed to see him take home another achievement like that, regardless of where you both stood as you watched from just above the v.i.p section, shivering like an idiot because you forgot to bring a jacket after deciding to wear a flowy tube top for the day, but excited for him nonetheless.
you didn’t tell a single soul you were coming, not even your best friend as you just wanted to see megumi again before running off into the shadows of your embarrassing despair, missing him like fucking crazy and nearly sobbing when you saw him walk out on the field at the start, but even more emotional to the fact that they were actually going to move on to the world series by the looks of it.
and the crowd hollered eventually as the speakers blasted megumi’s teams signature song—
finalizing their spot in the world series.
your eyes glowed as you watched his team run up on the field and tackle each other down, literally rolling in the dirt as you giggled to yourself— sighing contently and about to turn and walk out of the stadium to go home when a strong rough hand wrapped around your bare upper arm.
“you’re fushiguro’s girl! aren’t you?”
you snapped your head up and saw someone you recognized as one of megumi’s crew members for the team, and you relaxed, trusting him.
“oh! yeah i am!”
“sweet! i just got hired to be on the crew a couple of weeks ago.”
“that’s great!” you answered politely, smiling. “how is—”
“listen i was wondering if i could get any tickets to the world series from you?”
what.
“um—” your eyes darted around awkwardly. “for— for the world series?—”
“yeah! i took this job so i could get some but apparently i need to be working longer than three weeks. dumb.”
you gnawed at the inside of your cheek as your eyes drifted downward to your arm.
he still hadn’t let go.
“oh i’m sorry.” you mumbled. “i could— i could maybe get you one? one for sure!”
he shook his head. “shit sorry, i need like five.”
“five?!” you gawked. “i can’t get you five i’m really sorry… i can only maybe get you one.”
his eyes narrowed. “why not? you’re fushiguro’s girl are you not?”
“yes but what does that have to do with me getting you tickets to the world series?” you spoke nervously, trying to put on a brave front as his height literally towered over you.
“why don’t you ask him for tickets? he’s literally megumi fushiguro i’m sure he can cough up some—”
you scoffed.
“i’m not gonna ask him anything for you just because you want to use me to get tick—”
“so then what the fuck are you with him for?” his grip tightened around your arm as he pulled you a little, and you winced.
“let go of me!—”
megumi considered himself a relatively calm person throughout his life.
he knew he had his explosive rude moments here and there, him also accidentally offending people unknowingly with his words, but that behavior only stayed on the field as it pertained to the game at hand or with baseball itself, his life outside of that a treasured tranquil one as he spent his days with you and only you, something he looked forward to every waking moment since the day he met you.
but as he heard your little voice through the yelling of the crowd, instantly recognizing it and picking up on its distressed demeanor— his body did a full one-eighty as his eyes frantically searched for you through the mass of people.
and once he did spot you? your breathtaking little self being manhandled by some fucking moron who had his hand around your upper arm?
he didn’t consider himself a relatively calm person anymore.
megumi quickly snatched his cap off and passed it to a confused yuji and your best friend, sprinting at the speed of light across the field and to the fence of the v.i.p. section before hoisting himself up and climbing, jumping over once he reached the top and landing on the stands— him running up a few steps before finally reaching you and tearing the guy off.
“get the fuck off.”
he gently pushed you behind him, his chest heaving.
“the shit are you doing hurting her arm like that for huh?!” megumi stepped forward.
“hey! hey i’m sorry man i— i didn’t know i was hurting her—”
“sure you fucking did she was literally telling you to let go and you were throwing her around like—”
“megumi please—”
“are you part of the crew?”
“y—yeah?”
“you’re gone. you’re fired you’re—”
“wait i’m sorry! i was just trying to get tickets to the world series—”
megumi’s eyes blew open, wild and infuriated.
“that’s why you were grabbing her like that? you were harrassing her for some fucking ticke— you know what—”
megumi stepped forward before you could stop him as he reeled his fist back and knocked him straight in the jaw, the guy stumbling back a bit and the crowd gasping before megumi spun around and grabbed your legs, throwing you over his shoulder.
“get the fuck out of my way.”
the small crowd that stuck around for the altercation parted with no questions asked, his long legs striding over across the exit and to the teams now vacant locker room— kicking the door open before gently setting you down on your feet.
he ran his hands over your soft hair frantically as he grabbed your cheeks and checked you over, your teary doe eyes breaking him apart.
“hey are you okay? are you fine?”
megumi let go of your face and gently lifted your upper arm, his eyes hardening at the purple forming bruise from that dickwads hand.
“he’s gone he’s gone—”
you lunged and wrapped your arms around his waist tightly as he started to charge back out, pulling him back.
“no! stop it’s okay you already hit him i think he got the message.” you mumbled, letting him go.
megumi turned to you then, his eyes softening over your timid sad frame as you played with your fingers, gaze down.
“y/n.”
“hm?”
he frowned.
“can you please look at me.”
you listened reluctantly and peered up at him.
he exhaled. “baby i— i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry for everything that i said to you that night. i meant none of it. nothing. i was just angry at myself and stressed and stupid and i hate that i talked to you like that and took it out on you. you didn’t deserve that at all.”
you hurriedly wiped your silent tears— nodding, but saying nothing.
he leaned down to look at you at eye level.
“are you okay?”
you nodded again and sniffled.
“talk baby.” he pleaded with you gently, eyes sad. “tell me, please.”
you cowered a little as you finally broke into tiny sobs, your hands hovering over your face to hide your tears as he placed his big hands on your upper arms, megumi feeling like he just got run over by an entire military tank at the sight of you crying because of him.
“i—i’m sorry i yelled at you—” you hiccuped. “i was so mean and i f—feel really bad—”
“baby why are you apologizing?” he shook his head. “it’s me it’s all me i’m the one who was mean to you—”
“no but—” you sniffled. “you were just stressed from the game like you said and that’s fine i should’ve been more aware. i didn’t mean to upset you with me talking—”
“oh pretty baby..” he breathed out, agonizingly, megumi literally beating himself up. “remember when i said one time you were too nice for your own good?”
you nodded.
“this is one of those moments. you should be yelling at me and throwing things at me like your best friend did.”
your eyebrows furrowed as you sniffled. “she— she did?”
“she did.” he nodded. “rightfully so.”
you giggled a little, and he smiled softly.
“i’m sorry i distanced myself the way i did…” you mumbled, a waterfall of tears coming down again. “i just thought that i was a distraction and— and i wanted you to focus.”
“a distraction?” he murmured. “y/n you are never a distraction.”
“no but at the end of the day i was…” you sobbed. “you need to be there for your team you have—“ hic! “you have responsibilities and i don’t want you to put me above that and— and keep hanging out with me when you have so much to do—”
“something you need to understand is that i’m replaceable.” he cut you off, tone firm. “the minute they find some other dude that’s way better than me and quicker than me and they draft his ass over to the team? they are going to replace me faster than you will ever think. that’s just the way jobs are. i’m replaceable no matter how much you wanna think it’s not true.”
he shook his head, his face pained. “but you are not. you’re not fucking replaceable there is no other you. you are my life now baby. yes my career is a priority, but so are you, and i would rather them replace me than lose you entirely.”
he wiped the tears from your cheeks, your doe eyes wide.
“i appreciate that you care so much and you support me and that you want me to devote all of my time to only this— you’re an angel on earth for all of that… but as your man i’m telling you that all of my time is devoted to you now, not just baseball.”
you wrapped your arms around his neck and tugged him closer to you, tight, him immediately reciprocating and snaking his arms around your waist.
he could finally breathe.
“do you understand?” he murmured softly, rubbing his hands over your back soothingly.
you nodded.
“but you can’t— wear yourself out like you did okay?” you sniffled. “you can’t let them push you and tire you out… and please listen when we say for you to rest…”
“i know i’m sorry. i’ll listen next time baby i promise.”
“i get you trying to improve for yourself and push your limits… but— but there’s a difference between wanting to better your play and straight up wearing yourself down.”
you pulled back a little to look at him, wiping your tears and hiccuping. “and i worry man… i worry so much because i—“ hic! “i love you and i always think about if you’re eating right or— or getting enough sleep—”
his heart literally melted as he felt the remains of it ooze and spread all over his body and insides, your pure sweet concerns tugging at him and turning him into absolute putty before you.
he tightened his grip around your waist and lifted you, gently rocking your bodies as you sniffled and cried, his eyes screwed shut and feeling every possible emotion a human being could ever feel… but feeling love most of all.
love for you. love for who you are.
megumi kissed your wet cheek delicately and let his lips linger there as he spoke.
“i’m in love with you…” he murmured. “i hope you know that.”
your heart fluttered and you nodded, a little smile playing at your face.
“i’m in love with you too gumi.” you hummed, pressing a sweet kiss of your own to his cheek.
he set you back down and cupped your cheeks, slowly leaning in and pressing light tender kisses to your lips, his mouth completely savoring over the taste of yours as he had been deprived of them for a freaking week— feeling like his dried up soul had been rejuvenated and made anew.
and you felt the same way… because you deepened the kiss, picked up the pace, pulled him closer until his chest was flush against yours and your hot breaths were mixed together in a misty cloud, megumi breathing heavily through his nose as he ran his needy desperate hands over your delicious body.
he trailed wet open mouthed kisses on your cheek, jaw, and all the way down to the side of your exposed neck, his hand supporting the other side as he feverishly licked a slow long stripe of spit up your neck with his rough tongue, your fists gripping the sides of his jersey as he nibbled and bit, his lips finally coming to enclose and suck around a certain spot as your breath hitched at how frenzied and sloppy he was being, drool practically running down your neck as he ravished, bit, and sucked over multiple areas.
you shoved your hands down his pants suddenly, and he choked in surprise as his hips thrusted forward, your fingers pumping and palming his hardened cock slowly as his breath shuddered against your neck.
“baby...” he murmured.
“hm?”
“how would you feel if i turned on the shower and fucked my cock in your pretty little cunt for a bit in there huh?…”
a needy whimper slipped past your lips against his ear, and he grew weak.
“is that okay—”
“more than okay—”
you squealed as he wasted no time in picking you up again and walking over to the showers, the both of you clumsily tearing off your clothes as megumi fumbled with the shower switch until luke warm water spritzed from above— entrapping the both of you in a humid trance as megumi squeezed your bare thighs and ushered you to jump, you doing so immediately and wrapping your legs around his waist.
he stepped in and literally slammed the shower door shut, the two of you giggling a little as the soothing water washed over your panting bodies, the sight of his handsome bright face making your cheeks flush and bury your face in his neck in response.
he chuckled softly, gently setting your back against the wet tile wall before kissing you again and again, his mouth messy against your puffy lips as he tried to drink up all that you gave him, the tip of his cock slipping past your folds and brushing against your swollen clit— each time making you squeak and jump.
you didn’t care about anything, your mind reeling and just wanting megumi’s dick inside of you as soon as possible, knowing that you’d never really had sex before and literally not giving a single shit because it was him— someone you trusted the most out of anyone in your life, and someone you wanted to give your all to no matter the circumstance.
he lined his fat tip then against your drooling hole.
“wait! wait the door—“ you gripped his shoulders for support. “the door did you lock it?”
“nope.”
megumi pushed his cock in slowly and gently, your choked gasps and moans echoing inside the shower as his head fell to rest in the crook of your hickey covered neck, him groaning in ecstasy as your gummy warm pussy strangled his dick to the tightest degree, already previously so wet and gushy that it thankfully barely hurt you at all as he bottomed out.
“fuuuckk— you’re warm.” he murmured, gripping your hips like a vice and softly caressing his thumb against your slippery skin to soothe you— hoping (but not really), you’d maybe release the clutch your pussy had on his dick to stop him from already shooting his cum all over your insides like a loser.
he slowly drew his hips back and fucked into you again, you jolting at the force as you fumbled to keep your grip steady on his shoulders, his cock fucking thick and massive as his little curve poked deliciously at your cervix, him gradually increasing his pace as you shuddered over the quick pat pat pat’s echoing through the walls.
“g—gumiii..” you whined.
“what baby?” he mumbled breathlessly, his eyes glued to where his dick connected with your hole as it slipped in and out lewdly, your pussy literally squelching and screaming for him with your bouncing tits in his face that made him clench his jaw in self restraint— trying his hardest not to fucking ram into you like nothing and take you.
“y—you’re biigg!” you hiccuped, your little gasps of breath enticing droplets of cum to leak out of his tip and ooze out of your little wet folds, megumi moaning at your words.
“yeah?” pat pat pat— “s’too much for you baby?”
he picked up the pace, on purpose as he meanly bounced you on his cock and shot his hips up against your pussy, his big heavy balls slapping against your ass and making your eyes fucking cross at the feeling.
“tell me you love me.” he panted. “now.”
“i—“ hic! “i love you—”
megumi grabbed your cheeks with his fingers and mushed them together, grinning deviously at the way your pouty lips pushed out cutely.
“how much.”
“s—so- ah!— so much gumi—”
“more— shit!” he choked, a particular squeeze from your abused cunt almost making him finish. “m— more than anything?”
slap slap slap—
“y—yes!—” you could barely even speak due to the erotic hold he had on your face. “i love you i love you i love—”
you squealed as he let go of your face, gave into his desires and rammed into you, both hands on your bruised hips as he gave your pussy no room to breathe with how fast he was shoving his fat cock inside of you, pounding and pummeling into your guts as your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt your release build up in your tummy.
“why were you asking me about the door earlier huh?” he panted. “you don’t want anyone to see how much of a” thrust! “slut you are? your legs spread for me like this and your pretty pussy creaming on my dick?”
you whined and moaned so fucking loudly, it ringing through megumi’s ears like a wicked symphony.
he pinched your nipple when you didn’t respond.
“answer me.”
thrust thrust thrust—
“n—no i didn’t!”
“no?”
he gripped your neck and sloppily ran his mouth over yours, feeling his cum on the brink of shooting out.
“m’gonna cum inside.”
“in— mmphf!— inside?”
“you don’t want it?” he let go of your neck. “cause i won’t give it to you if you don’t want it—”
“i do i do!” you scrambled and cupped his cheeks, bringing his lips back in and kissing him messily.
“give it to me gumi please!—“ hic! “eeekkk!”
hot sticky cum pumped out of his tip and into your gushy walls, your high making your toes curl as you creamed around his heavy cock feverishly, megumi’s entire body fucking shivering at the way your pussy felt like it was entirely made and molded for him.
he softly pumped himself inside and out of you, his mouth hung open in a daze as he watched his white cum slide out of your pretty hole and over his still connected dick, gently easing out after a minute and carefully setting you back down— not completely though, as he knew you’d be sore as he leaned most if not all of your body weight against him.
you held each other in a tight embrace then, your heavy breaths trying to find its normal rhythm as the warm water continued to cascade down your bodies, comfortingly.
“why don’t we have sex more often...” you mumbled.
he laughed softly, pecking the side of your head. “i was waiting for you to tell me baby. i didn’t want to pressure you.”
“i was waiting for you to tell me.” you emphasized. “i didn’t want to jump on you and just violate you—”
megumi’s chest vibrated as he laughed again, a cute boyish one that made you bite your lip.
“violate me?” he murmured, an amused smile on his face. “i’d want you to.”
“yeah?” you tilted your head, and his cheeks grew hot.
“yeah.”
finally you and megumi were in sync again, going back into each other’s routines as if the week long hiccup never happened, the both of you officially unraveling the aching knots in your chests that you hauled for seven tormenting days straight— together and attached to the hip once again as he started picking you up for your seven am classes every morning like before, you going to his practices straight after, and spending your hours sleeping in his dark cozy room this time around, snoring your little life away so megumi could recover.
and eventually, the world series arrived.
“my camera! my camera! my digital one did i bring it?!”
you flipped your purse upside down and dumped all of your things on the floor— your lip combo, compact mirror, snacks, random receipts, and small perfume bottle rolling around on the ground until your digital camera was finally in view.
your best friend cackled as she crouched down and helped you pick up your things. “you were taking pictures up megumi’s nose on the two hour drive over here yes you brought it—”
“i know i forgot i’m so nervous what if they lose what if someone fumbles what if—”
you both stood as you rambled on and she placed both of her hands on your shoulders, shaking you. “calm down! they’ll be fine! win or lose they still made it to the world series!”
the crowd roared much like the past two games, except much heavier, louder, more drilling as the music drummed through your body, the air windy but refreshing, and high pitched whistles echoing from around the stadium as everyone anticipated for the biggest game of the season.
you had lost count how many different news stations were here broadcasting the game, how many reporters you saw scrambling across the field trying to interview certain players— you too busy taking pictures of every single little thing and the both of you reapplying your lip liners over a million fucking times— even flagging down a crew member so you could take a picture with just your best friend, your backs to the camera showcasing the last names of your boyfriend’s on your jersey’s.
and when the game officially commenced and the players all went out on the field— megumi and his team did what they always do best, taking control of the scoreboard and earning runs like chump change as they worked professionally to take the trophy home, you constantly snapping pictures of megumi that your digital camera ran out of fucking storage before you even got the shot that you wanted.
eventually after a while of playing, it was megumi’s turn to hit.
“fuck! record for me please record! my camera ran out of storage oh my god use my phone please i love you—”
your best friend laughed as she took your phone from you and did what you asked, your hands on the railing and leaning over it as you anxiously watched him walk up to home plate and take position.
but instead of doing his usual faux swings and repositioned footing, megumi stepped to the side and turned his bat downward, you unable to tell what he was doing as his frame was blocking, his arm moving in various directions before he stepped back again on the home plate and repositioned himself.
your eyes trailed to the ground.
megumi had carved your initials in the dirt.
your girl friend gasped and cooed. “y/nnn!”
as megumi now did his faux swings, your bottom lip only wobbled as your eyes stayed trained to the carvings in the dirt, your heart skipping a thousand beats per minute as the thought of megumi thinking about you out there during one of the most important nights of his life, made you question repeatedly how you ever landed a man like him when all you do is talk and cry.
hit!
your eyes snapped up and you quickly wiped the corners of your eyes, megumi already running across the first two bases as the crowd roared.
“bring it home fushiguro!”
several of his teammates were cheering him on from the dugout, megumi running four runs with just one fucking hit?—
a grand slam.
and suddenly you were taken back to the day you noticed megumi for the first time, just like now with your doe eyes wide and cheeks pink, recognizing the only piece of baseball terminology you knew besides a home run.
except then he was just a stranger you were hopelessly in love with that knew how to play ball like no other.
now though, he’s a man you couldn’t ever imagine your life without. and you didn’t want to.
so as the game reached nine innings, megumi’s team running on the field in a bundle of absolute tears and yells and hollers that they won the world fucking series, all clustering together as they hoisted several players up on their shoulders, including megumi—
you and your best friend instantly booked it down there in a fit of tears.
you had no time to get your personal belongings together as you sprinted across the field like your life fucking depended on it towards megumi— him being put down by his teammates and him frantically looking around after until he spotted you, the brightest smile spreading across his face as he chucked his cap to the side and opened his arms out wide for you.
you jumped in and he spun you around, holding you tight as the screaming crowd surrounding you drowned itself out as you cried into megumi’s neck.
he pulled back, panting.
“did you see how i did a grand slam?”
you nodded rapidly.
“i did it because i knew its the only thing you would recognize!” he yelled over the noise. “so you would feel included when we won!”
oh my god.
he still remembered when you told him that?
“guummiii! how did you even calculate that?!” you cried harder, and he laughed as he spread tiny kisses all over your teary face, his eyes glimmering with absolute unadulterated happiness and bliss, the reality of having the two things he wanted most in life settling into his mind.
megumi didn’t really have a stance on religion— whether the factor is real or not something he didn’t really care about nor mind as he simply just chose to live.
but as he held you on the field, you crying for him and embracing him the way that you were, kissing him the way that you were, megumi only wanted to be covered in your favor. megumi only wanted to devote his entire life to you.
megumi only wanted to believe in you.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
want more? you can find my mlb!megumi fushiguro masterlist here!
taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):
@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @hiraethwa @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @vividl3ss
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lnfours · 4 months ago
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more than friends | l.n
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summary: good morning, gorgeous or the one where you spend the morning together after crossing the thin line you both had been dancing around.
warnings: fluff, smut (18+ ; unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), oral fem!receiving, and overall kinda filthy), a pre-established friends to lovers!au, all the usual stuff. we come in w a bang with this one and i fear we don’t stop, so strap in. i also kinda hate this, idk, lemme know what u think <3
listen | masterlist
the morning sun shone in your face, stirring you awake no matter how hard you tried to ignore it. and after a while, you flipped over to your other side, smiling softly at his sleeping figure and how his cheek was pressed against the pillows cutely. how his tanned skin contrasted against the white bedsheets. the same sheets you had found yourselves tangled in the night before, right after you had finally told him how you really felt about him. the two of you diving head first into the ‘more’ category of your relationship compared to dancing along the blurry line you had been teetering against for the past few months.
you smiled at small mark underneath his collarbone that you had left in your wake the night before. you had thanked the gods above that he was on summer break, not having to worry about anyone on the paddock or at mclaren questioning him about the purple mark he wore proudly on his skin.
and after a few moments of internal debate, you couldn’t help yourself anymore. you climbed over top of him, situating your knees next to his hips, straddling him as he stirred awake.
a lazy smile played at his lips as his eyes peeked open, green orbs staring right back up at you as his hands found their home on your hips, “well, good morning, gorgeous.”
you smiled back at the boy underneath you, “good morning.”
you leaned down, giving his lips a soft kiss. he smiled against your lips, pulling you back down as you giggled into his mouth. his hand coming up to cup your cheek, deepening the kiss before he rolled the two of you over so he was hovering over you and you were on your back underneath him.
you laughed softly, his lips attaching to the skin of your neck, “lando,”
he hummed against you, hiking your leg against his hip in order to situate himself comfortably between your legs. your fingers tangled into his curls, tugging gently as he pushed the material of his your shirt, revealing the soft skin of your tummy. you smiled as he worked kisses down your body, stopping once his lips reached the waistband of the pajama shorts you lazily threw on the night before.
“c’mere,” he mumbled against your skin, pulling you down the mattress. you squealed as he pulled you closer, fingers working on the waistband before he was pulling them down your legs, absentmindedly tossing them behind him. not caring about where they ended up, you’d find them later.
he pressed wet and hot kisses to the skin of the inside of your thighs, taking his time. he was in no rush, and neither were you. if this was what it was like to wake up with him in the same bed every morning, god were you ecstatic.
“so pretty,” he said, eyes meeting yours, “can’t wait to wake up next to you everyday for the rest of my life.”
his words made your heart flutter and his actions made your stomach do somersaults. his lips finally traveling down to where you needed him, his tongue flattening against your pussy. you moaned at the contact, fingers immediately treading through his hair.
he moved in slow movements, soft kitten licks to your clit as your chest heaved with need. it was a pretty sight before you, the man you loved your whole life situated between your legs as his tongue worked against you slowly. his green eyes meeting yours made you moan again, this making him pick up the pace a bit.
“lando,” his name sounded so good falling from your mouth in a panting moan, “baby.”
and so did that nickname. good fuck, he was done for. there was never going to be anyone else for him other than you.
“yeah,” he mumbled, pulling away before he teased a finger against your slit, “like this, honey?”
you nodded as he pushed a finger inside you, adding a second one shortly after. you moaned louder this time, back threatening to arch off the mattress. he climbed up the length of your body, fingers continuing to pump in and out of you before his lips met yours in a kiss. you kissed him back with just as much love and need as he put into it, moaning into his mouth when his fingers curled to hit just the right spot.
“need you,” you whispered against his lips, “please.”
the sight of you begging for him was one he was sure he’d never get used to. a moan falling from his own lips this time when you reached between your bodies and palmed him through his boxers. he nodded, gently pulling his fingers out of you before pulling his boxers down and tossing them with your shorts. he pumped his dick in his hand a few times before looking down at you.
“ready?”
you nodded, his hand grabbing at your thigh to throw it against his hip. you locked it around his waist as he gently and slowly pushed into you, the both of you moaning against each others lips as he bottomed out. he stilled for a minute, letting you adjust as he placed kisses to your face.
you smiled, catching his lips before mumbling against them, “you can move now.”
and he complied, slowly rocking his hips against yours. your fingers finding the soft skin of his back as your nails dug into the muscles there.
“fuck,” he moaned, your lips kissing against his jaw. he picked his pace up slowly, the bed softly squeaking under you but neither of you seemed to care. too caught up in the feeling of the other. how he filled you up so perfectly.
“lando,” you moaned his name, “shit-“
“yeah, baby,” he said, hand slipping between you as he placed his fingers against your clit. he drew tight circles around it, causing you to throw your head back into the plush pillows, “like that?”
you nodded, “don’t stop,”
he brought a hand up, pushing the material of the shirt up all the way. he placed kisses down the valley of your breasts, slowly taking a nipple into his mouth. you moaned again and he looked up as your mouth hung open, your eyes meeting his as he let out a moan of his own.
“gonna come?” he asked, noticing how your thigh began to shake around his waist. you nodded, unable to speak as he brought your other leg up and wrapped it around his waist. the new position letting him go deeper.
“holy shit,” you breathed, “fuck-“
“c’mon baby,” he said, “come for me.”
the coil that had slowly built up in your lower abdomen had finally snapped, your back arching into his chest. your moans and the way you clenched around him making his head drop down to your neck, his own orgasm close behind you. your fingers dug into his shoulders, lips kissing his as he moaned into your mouth. his thrusts stopped abruptly before he pulled out of you, his hands moving to pump himself as he came. warm liquid coating your stomach as he panted above you, his hair fluffy and a sheen layer of sweat covering his forehead.
he caught his breath, watching as you took your pointer finger and swiped the liquid from your skin. his breathing getting caught in his throat as you popped the digit in your mouth, his eyes turning a shade darker as they met yours.
you smiled softly as he stared at you like a deer in headlights, not even noticing you had untangled from his limbs. you stood from the bed, t-shirt falling back down to the top of your thighs. you looked over your shoulder at the man you had left awestruck.
“coming?” you nodded towards the connected bathroom. he quickly got to his feet, following you into the room before pressing you up against the glass door of the shower. you chuckled as he kissed you, fidgeting to get the door open before he led you inside, turning the water on.
“i still have clothes on!” you giggled, but you should’ve known he’d have an answer for that.
“not for long,” he smirked against your lips, his hands working to quickly get rid of the material that now clung against your body. he tossed it out of the shower, not caring how it had landed in a wet heap on the tile floor.
he grabbed at the backs of your thighs, signaling you to jump. and you did, wrapping around him as he pressed you against the glass wall. a hand coming up to pin yours above your head as his tongue explored your mouth. you moaned against him, fully smitten and aware that he was about to have his way with you.
and god, you wanted nothing more.
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parfaitblogs · 2 months ago
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(totally not based on my day) but a simple request for spencer helping reader out with a bunch of chores bc she's overwhelmed with life and she decides to thank him with like the quote "best head of his life" and he's like "its okay you dont have to do that" and she's responds "but i am anyways"
it will come back ❀ s. reid x reader
in which spencer reid helps you when you're (very) overwhelmed, and you might need to return the favour.  pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: comfort & smut (18+ mdni) tags: oral (m receiving). praise. established relationship. reader's overwhelmed overstimulated overworked... very enthusiastic head giver!reader. use of honey and angel. they love each other a lot. i love them a lot. i don’t think there’s d/s dynamics but if there are it’s soft dom spencer (nobody’s shocked). word count: 3.1k a/n: thank u sooo much for reading my brain ily i need to give spencer reid head asap. new format/layout for requests sort of its the same as my normal post layout... do we like... i sure freaking hope so. as always lmk if u liked this or even if u didn't but preferably if u did!!
You were exhausted. For three weeks straight, you had been working nonstop, with a wondrous total of eight hours in between shifts. You were hardly sleeping, you had hardly had a social life, hell, you never even had time to enjoy the simple pleasures of an everything shower. You felt groggy, and cramped, and everyday felt like an awful repeat of the last. A nightmare that never ended. 
Never mind the fact that you hadn't seen your boyfriend.
Always home too late to be with him in the evenings, and up too early to get coffee with him before your days started. Spencer was so patient with you, regardless. He knew it would end eventually, and he would get his girlfriend back. It was just for the month, was what you would text each other whenever the other began feeling particularly lonely. He didn't even like texting, but the time for a simple phone call wasn't available to you anymore. 
And your apartment. Every time you stepped into it you swore a new dirty dish materialised in your sink, or a new pile of clothes sat themselves in your bedroom floor. Which was odd, because you had rotated between the same two outfits for the last eighteen days — your work uniform, or your pyjamas. 
You were overwhelmed with it all. Even as your hectic work life came to an end, and you were waking up to the sunlight pouring into your room, instead of an alarm clock while the moon was still up. You were acutely aware of the mess of your apartment, and just the thought of it all left you lying motionless in your bed, staring up at the ceiling. 
Tears stung your vision as you felt the seconds tick into minutes, and nothing happened. Attempting to will yourself to get up, and yet you simply couldn't. Exhausted beyond belief, with limbs sinking into the mattress and melding to the sheets. 
You faintly heard the click of your front door lock, and if you had any more motivation in you, you'd probably get up to double check it was the only other person who had a key to your apartment, and not a burglar. Thankfully, you didn't have to, for Spencer was calling out your name, gently.
Too exhausted to even reply and alert him of where you were, you lay still until he had found you in your bedroom, his bad dropping by the doorway, feet shuffling against the rug. 
"Good afternoon," he said, finding a seat on the edge of your bed, hand resting atop your thigh, gentle circles being rubbed into the skin. 
"Is it already afternoon?" you asked him, voice quiet. 
"Yeah. How long have you been awake in bed?" 
"I don't know," you answered, voice awfully small as you felt the thick weight of frustration with yourself blanket over you. "I need to get up. The apartment's a mess."
"It's allowed to be," he said. "You've been doing sixteen hour days."
"Yeah, but I'm not today. I have the day off."
"Your first day off in weeks. I'd be concerned if you'd spent it productively."
You stared at him, unsure if the irritation that settled in your bones was because of his insistence that you not doing a thing was okay, or your exhaustion. Logically, it would be the latter. You did know that, deep down. 
Upon seeing your eyes delve into something a little more desperate, he sighed, hand sliding up to your own, gently tugging you up into a seated position. His eyebrows knitted together at your exhausted look, and you could see his brain ticking behind his eyes.
"Do you want to split the tasks?" he finally asked.
"You don't have to," you shrugged your shoulders. "It's my mess."
"Honey, you're already overwhelmed, and all you've done is wake up," he answered, thumb drawing circles on the top of your hand that he still seemed to have clasped within his own. "Let me help."
"It's really gross."
"I've seen mutilated dead bodies."
"I'd argue my kitchen sink is worse."
"Oh would you?" his eyebrows shot up, lips twitching in amusement, that you found solace in, distracting you slightly from your overstimulated mind. "Do you want to have a shower?"
"Yes," you nodded your head, brain ticking over all the personal hygiene tasks you had been neglecting over the past few weeks. 
"How about you go shower, I'll start cleaning up, and you come join me when you're feeling better?"
Despite your aversion to anybody but yourself tackling the mess of your apartment, you knew better than to deny Spencer any further — he had set his mind on helping you. 
Sighing, you nodded your head in defeat. He had coaxed you up off the bed, gotten you to the bathroom, even found you a fresh set of clothes to wear, and waited with you for the water to warm up. It was really only once he was absolutely sure you had gotten into the shower, did he leave you be, and disappeared from the bathroom. 
Eventually, the apartment had been cleaned, with efforts from the both of you getting it to where it now was. 
You were a lot less exhausted, and your brain was a lot less fried now that you didn't have a million tasks catalogued within it to get done. 
You were lying in your freshly made bed — courtesy of Spencer. Your head on his chest, fidgeting with one of his hands as he used the other to wave around as he rambled about something you were no longer following. It had started as a simple explanation for why you had been so overwhelmed in the first place. Which you had asked as a rhetoric, but didn't have the heart to stop him when he began explaining. 
"You're not listening, are you?" he asked, free hand poking your side and emitting an involuntary laugh from you at the feeling. 
"I am, I am! I'm just not following anymore."
"Sorry."
"It's okay," you replied, turning and poking your head up to be level with his. "I like hearing you speak, anyways. Doesn't matter if I don't understand."
He only hummed as a response, and the two of you stared at each other for a beat, before you were breaking out into a smile. 
"Hi," you chirped. 
"Hello," he answered, perhaps a little too amused by your sudden energy. "Would you like something?"
"A kiss?"
"After all that labour I just put in for you?" he mused, but he was already lifting his head to brush his lips against yours, and was most certainly not pulling away when you eagerly connected them properly. 
You pulled back after a few moments, searching his face. "Do you want something for all that labour?"
His hand trailed up your spine, fingertips triggering a shiver to run up your back. "What do you have in mind?"
"I could give you the best head of your life."
He was clearly not expecting that as an offer, perhaps because you never had offered such a thing before. It wasn't even something you had talked about, which was bizarre (in your mind), considering he was quite enthusiastic about using his mouth on you. 
"You don't need to do that," he shook his head, but with how close your faces were, you could see the instant dilation in his pupils. 
"What if I want to?" 
"Then that's very nice of you, but my point still stands," he replied.
"Spencer, let me do something in return," your voice was nothing short of a whine, and if he was any less turned on, maybe it wouldn't have made his firm footed denial falter. Maybe you knew that.
"You could do anything but that."
"So a handjob?"
"Or that."
"You're such an awful liar," you huffed. "I can see your pupils dilating. I know you're turned on by the thought of it."
"It could just be because I'm looking at you," he answered, voice hoarse, no doubt from the arousal he was attempting to deny was there. "Romantic attraction triggers the same response in our hormones."
"But it's not."
He fell silent for a few moments, before he allowed his resolve to slip, shaking his head in agreement with you. "No. It's not."
"See! It's okay if you want it. I'm quite literally offering myself to you," you spouted. 
His eyes fluttered shut, and he exhaled through his nose, words coming out through almost gritted teeth. "That's not a sentence you should be saying."
"Why not?"
His only response was to say your name chidingly, and when he reopened his eyes, he was met with the shit-eating grin on your face. 
"Brat," he mumbled, lips seeking yours once again.
"Who gives really good head," you hummed against his mouth. "And would really love to show you."
"If you're insisting—"
"Which I am," you quickly interjected, staring back at him as yet another amused smile stretched across his lips. Then, he was nodding his head, and you were quite cheerfully kissing him all over again.
It wasn't that you kissed him with much fever at all — in fact, you were melting into his lips with a gentle hum. It was simply that he was kissing you back with a desperation you should be accustomed to. You weren't. 
Every kiss you received from him always felt like he was chipping away at your soul, claiming a piece of it. Maybe he was.
You mewled when his teeth nipped at your lower lip, and he was quick to take the opportunity of slipping his tongue into your mouth. Though, alerted by his sudden control over the situation between you two, you reluctantly pulled your face away from his before it could go much further. 
"Excuse me," he breathed out, scoldingly, only to be met with your hundredth grin of the day as you descended down his body. He'd take it — you smiling, albeit cockily, was much more rewarding than the concerned look you had been sporting for the majority of the afternoon. 
"I don't do this very often," you told him as you lifted your gaze to his, absentmindedly tugging his pants down his legs. 
"I hope not. You've never done it for me, and we've been together for quite a while."
"You know what I mean," you grumbled, and he was forced to poke his tongue into the inside of his cheek to keep the smile off his face. 
"Is this comfortable for you?" he then asked, having noticed your constant adjustments of your positioning between his legs. From nerves or comfortability, he didn't know. 
"Um. I guess so," you replied. "I've never done it lying down."
"We can do it however you prefer to do it, angel."
"Oh. Okay. Cool," you mumbled, sitting up straight and grabbing his hands within your own, tugging him over towards the edge of the bed. 
You sank to your knees on the rug, tapping his knees with your hands to part them so you could situate yourself comfortably between them. 
You were a vision if he'd ever seen one, and you weren't even doing anything. Perhaps you had noticed the effect you had on him, or maybe you were just largely enthusiastic about doing something for him, and only him. 
Your tongue darted out to lick your lips, eyes flickering up to meet his face, and if this was the last sight he saw before he died, he would have no complaints. 
"Have you ever gotten head before?" you mumbled, eyes fixated on him as your hands trailed up the sides of his thighs, resting at the waistband of his boxers. 
"Yes."
"Okay," you whispered, quietly, tapping his hips so he could lift them, and you rolled his boxers down his skin.
"Okay?" he parroted. 
"Okay," you confirmed with a nod of your head. "I just wanted to know if this is going to be completely new for you or not."
As you spoke, your fingertips dragged along his inner thighs, lips following soon after, kissing up the skin. 
"I don't think that's going to matter, honey," he answered, voice breathless. 
You smiled, not needing to ask what he meant. You lifted your head back up, studying his face. He gave you a nod, a silent confirmation to allow you to go further, and you took a beat to compose yourself. It's not like he would be mad at you if it sucked, but you had had a far too awful day to not do something good. 
You hadn't done this in a while, it was true. So your hesitance came more from your brain figuring out what it actually needed to do, than your insecurities (they were there too). 
Insecurities that melted away within an instant, for Spencer's thighs tensed beneath your hands that were now holding them apart the second your lips made contact with his cock, and through your lashes you could see his head tipping back. 
Your cheeks warmed at how easy it was to get him to respond, and you wondered if the satisfaction settled in your chest was anything similar to how he felt when he did this to you. 
You started hesitant. Gentle kitten licks at his tip that probably shouldn't have been garnering such a large reaction from him. But it was, and you had to preoccupy your mouth to keep the smug smile off of it. 
Wrapping your lips around the head, he lets out the breathiest moan you think you've ever heard come from him, and your mind goes hazy. Newfound blind confidence wills you to take more of him in your mouth, and it's a quiet 'Fuck' that compels you even further. 
In hindsight, he knew he'd enjoy it. It was you after all. He knew from the world shattering arousal that the simple sight of you on your knees was. He had, in a few short seconds, mentally prepared to enjoy this.
But not this much, and certainly not this quickly. 
"I've been too selfless," he muttered as you lifted your head back up, tongue licking a stripe up the underside of him as you did. When you met his gaze in question, he added, "I mean never asking you for this. I should've."
You hummed as a response (it was all you really could do), and the gentle vibrations shot heat throughout his body. A shuddering moan rocked through his body, and if not for your quick response time in pushing his hips down, they would've knocked against your face when he bucked them up.
You hollowed your cheeks, lowering your head back down, and emitting the loveliest of moans from Spencer, whose hand found its way to your hair. Upon the lack of your protests, he made a loose ponytail with his fist, gently tugging on it upwards so you could lift your head. 
You flattened your tongue on your ascend, successfully making his already weak grip on your hair go slack, within only seconds of him having grabbed it. Swirling your tongue around the tip of his cock, his hips bucked up again, and you flinched. 
"Jesus—fuck, sorry, honey," he rasped, though his guilt was quick to dissipate as he saw your thumbs up against his thigh. Your movements weren't hesitant, anymore. Just slow. Tortuously slow. "Can I..." he trailed off, seemingly becoming unsure of what it was he was asking of you within seconds, but the retightening of his hand in your hair gave you all you needed to know. 
You nodded your head the best you could, and he mumbled a quiet 'thank you', allowing you to set a base pace, before taking over. 
"So good. Jesus Christ, angel. Where did you learn this? Don't answer that. Don't tell me. Shit." 
His rambling was sharp sentences, that didn't really sound like they belonged together, and certainly didn't sound like they should be coming out of his mouth. They weren't the most articulately structured phrases he's ever come up with. A thought that comforted you, because you were doing that to him. 
"Fuck," he breathed out, once more, and you came to the mental conclusion you've never heard him swear so much in his life. The thought made your stomach flip.
Fingers dug into your scalp, though not too harshly to hurt. In fact, you were letting out a quiet moan of your own at the feeling, hips wiggling. Even in his state, Spencer noticed, and he smiled.
"You—ah—okay, angel?" he asked you, and you relished in the fact that he couldn't get out sentences without moaning. 
Your response was yet another hum, and he was bucking his hips. Again.
You knew he was close for a multitude of reasons; the fact that he had quickened his gentle-turned-firm guidance of your head, his fingers tugging on your hair a little harsher than before, and the ever so lovely, "Jesus Christ—please—oh," leaving his lips, breathlessly.
It was a few more moments of that, before the fingers in your hair went impossibly tight, and the muscles in his thighs locked beneath your hands. 
The fact you had never discussed doing this, meant neither of you knew the other's stance on what to do. Thankfully, Spencer was rendered so frenzied that he couldn't do anything. 
It was a sickeningly lovely sight; you pulling back and swallowing, some of his come painting your bottom lip. His fingers twitched, before they dropped back to the mattress on either side of his body, his chest heaving just as much as your own. 
Lightheaded, you slowly brought yourself back up to your feet, and Spencer's arms were quick to wrap around the backs of your thighs, pulling you into him. 
"Best head of your life?" you asked, lowering your lips to brush against his. 
"By a mile," he replied. 
"Just one mile?" 
"Maybe two."
Shooting him a glare, you huffed, and he laughed. "You're never getting head again, then."
He nipped your lower lip. "Okay."
"I'm putting my foot down," you retorted, disliking his lack of belief in your words. "Never again."
"I believe that."
"You should."
"Oh, I do," he hummed, sarcasm in his words making you frown. "Are your knees okay?" 
If his goal was to distract you, he succeeded, for your eyes were instantly dropping to your knees, indents from the threads of the rug evident. 
"They're okay," you confirmed, squirming as his thumbs rubbed circles into the skin on your thighs. 
"Tell me if they're not," he instructed, and you nodded. He stood up, hands sliding up to your waist. "Shower?"
"Shower," you confirmed with a nod, despite the fact that you had showered only a few hours prior. "Can we watch a movie after?"
"Yes."
your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡
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earthtooz · 9 months ago
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cw: arranged marriage, fluff, neglect at the beginning, ratio falling hard, pining, ratio being jealous of aventurine, unedited bc i wrote this with my heart not my brain
my brain has been thinking about an arranged marriage fic with dr. ratio...
he isn't kind to you at first, less than happy to share a life with a mere acquaintance. he's heard about you before in passing, noting your achievements with a grain of salt because nothing about you particularly mattered to him, irrelevant against the mass of scrolls and books he needs to read.
you don't really disturb his normal routine too much. you move in to his estate with a fair share of your belongings, but none of them crowd his house too much. you have your own room, pristine guest room unearthed by your artistic touch.
aside from dinners, you don't get to see each other too much. he starts his mornings early, getting up at the crack of dawn to exercise and start his day with a hearty meal. you wake up later, partaking in a slow morning, and if you glanced out the window, you might be able to see your husband running laps around the expanse of his gardens.
you admire his dedication and routine, it's fascinating to live beside a genius. everyday, the chest table that sits in the living room changes, the black and white pieces never remaining where you last recalled. the size of his blackboard is impressive, and yet too small to fit all of the formulas his brain remembers, hands effortlessly dancing along the surface to scratch number after number.
a frequent order of his estate is chalk. a new pile is delivered every three days, and he goes through them without fail every time.
during dinner, he tries to spare some conversation with you. you don't tell him too much about your day, not wanting to bore him with your menial chores. he's only half-listening either way, so you'll feign understanding about his work when he explains what he's up to.
ratio is not an attentive husband, but he doesn't mistreat you, either. he allows you to spend his assets without too much care, doesn't police your everyday tasks, and also doesn't bat an eye at other men or women. his pursuit of intelligence is important, and your wellbeing would not come in between that.
your monotonous, distant routine changes one autumn dusk. you're perched in the front yard with an easel set up before you, the sky in front of you now a blend of pink-purple hues. he returns home earlier than you expected, carriage stopping at the front of his estate, and he witnesses you in your tranquil state.
the paint strokes on the canvas before you are skilled, and show years of dedication to the craft. you're so invested in the piece before you, that you don't even hear him approaching until he calls your name.
"the night turns colder with each minute. shouldn't you come inside before you fall ill?" the scholar greets, and you're snapped out of your creative reverie, looking over at him.
"oh, i had not realised. let me clean up here, first." you take your canvas off the easel, but to your surprise, your spouse kneels down to organise your oil paints back into their box.
"make haste, then," he urges.
during dinner, he can't help but be curious over your hobby, the stubborn splotches of paint clinging to your hands visible to him. that night, you engage in uninterrupted conversation, and discover that he's an artist himself- a sculptor. it calms him, and all the statues reside in a removed room, adjacent to his study.
despite your years of matrimony, you had never once dared enter his study, but the design is so fittingly him. it is organised (well, as organised a genius can be), with shelves and shelves filled with books, discarded scrolls lay around the room, but even then, his taste for greco-roman aesthetics are seen. roman dorics act like stands for little plants, and his many certificates are displayed, along with other achievements.
(his study is overwhelmingly filled with them. though you knew of the merit of the man you were arranged to be married to, you had never known just how expansive the list is. perhaps, that only made him more intimidating to you, standing beside a genius does not feel so light to say anymore.)
he shows you his sculptures, and though many of them are... self portraits... the likeness is disgustingly accurate. it was as if he had casted himself in plaster and displayed it proudly. you wonder how long he must have stared in the mirror to perfect their appearance.
but, there are also various other formidable statues. some of people you recognise. you compliment his skill and don't get to see the blush that spreads along his cheeks.
it seems that you've chipped a way into his heart, because between brushstrokes and chiselled marble, he falls in love with you.
ratio knows he didn't start off being the best husband, but he tries to now, and begins by being present. asks you to dine together where possible, listens when you're talking about your day, and the two of you can be seen venturing downtown together; an unbelievable sight for those who believed that ratio was romantically inept.
perhaps, an even more unbelievable sight, was the soft smile on his face that glanced at you very adoringly, and how you remained unaware of his affections.
and, maybe a jealous veritas ratio is just as unbelievable.
he is practically glaring daggers at the side of a certain blond's head. ratio has never been fond of the scheming businessman, aventurine, and is even less so of the fact that you seem so close to him, more than you are with your own husband. you're speaking with him like how one would with old friends, a peaceful visit to the markets turned sour by his presence.
when you finally, finally, finally, bid farewell to aventurine, who gave ratio a look that signified he was up to no good, your husband held your hand in his gloved one with an unforgiving grip. his mood is dampened for the remainder of the day, and is only made better when you enquire about his sudden glumness, visiting his office to see if he was alright.
you leave him with a kiss on the crown of his head, and a whisper of 'goodnight', before retreating to your chambers, and the only thought that circulates in his head for the rest of the night is you, and how he's going to sweep you off your feet.
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heartless-tate · 9 months ago
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Notice me! | Azriel X Freader
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summary; Azriel courting an oblivious reader.
a/n; Heyy! Just a little fic of being courted by Azriel. And you not being very aware of it. Hope you enjoy!
content/trigger warnings; knife, food, meat?, cussing, kissing, no use y/n, hint towards lust feeling, Azriel pining, Armen being sassy, FEM reader (if you’d like me to make a another post with male reader, message me!) she/her pronouns for reader, thunderstorm mention and I think that’s it. If I missed something, feel free to message me on it! 💝
word count: 3.1k. |. Part two
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A plate clattered against the table causing your attention to turn to the man in front of you.
You met his gaze as he waited for you to try his new dish, his eyes seeming to shine as the sun hit his eyes. You swear he always seemed to be effortlessly beautiful. It was angering in some ways, you had even seen him wake up looking like a god. No. Better than a god. It didn’t matter if you spent an hour in the mirror, swiping various products of different expenses on your face; the result would be the same. The same boring face you saw everyday.
A wonderful smell wafted from the plate, causing your empty stomach to growl loud enough to shake the mountains. The shadowsinger smirked, pushing the plate of food closer to you with a gentleness most men didn’t have. Your face flushed with embarrassment, your hands instinctively coming to paw at your stomach, hoping it would stop. Your eyes wandered down to the plate where a meal sat.
“I haven’t made this before. I wanted you to be the first to try it.” He spoke with every ounce of grace and elegance a god would have. His hands grasped the seat across from you, pulling it out and taking a seat. His wings shifted until finding a comfortable position in the chair. You nodded in response, picking the fork up before taking in the rather- gracious portion of food he had made for you.
A ribeye steak bigger than your hand sat on the plate. Seasoning of different kinds were smothered on it, and the smell of butter consumed your senses. Your mouth watered in response. Beside it were two sides. Your favorites.
Armen smirked from where she sat beside you, watching as you lifted the steak knife and fork. You were so oblivious. She had been watching for the last few years as Azriel desperately chased after you, and you never seemed to even notice. It was amusing. He has spent hours staring at you, and you never realized. And if she pointed it out, you just assumed you had something on your face. She knew he was growing restless. Not tired of you, but tired of your complete oblivion. These days he seemed ready to scream from the top of the roof that he loved you.
Azriel’s scarred hand clutched at your wrist. He gently took the knife and fork away from you, before grabbing your plate and proceeding to cut your steak into bite sized pieces. Armen snickered from where she sat, resulting in a glare from Azriel.
“Oh- Azriel I can do that-“ You started.
“I know you can.” He responded. He didn’t give back your plate until your steak was cut into bite sized pieces for you. He watched you place the first bite of steak into your mouth.
Your eyes rolled back and you let out a hum of approval, chewing the food. The flavor was delicious, and it was quite easily the best steak you had ever tasted in your life. It wasn’t too buttery. Or too seasoned. It was just right. The meat was tender.
Azriel’s wings rustled at your hum. His face shined with pure male pride. His eyes never left you once while you chewed and swallowed. He stood, taking the steak knife that was no longer needed into the kitchen.
Armen followed after him. He sat the knife in the sink, letting the house do its magic before turning his attention to Armen.
“You’re like a love sick puppy.”
“My love life isn’t your business.” Azriel responded, his face tight. His words were low, ensuring you couldn’t hear.
“Hm. All I’m saying is your ‘courting’ isn’t going to work.” Armen said, picking at her nail leisurely. She was like a cat. Her piercing eyes watched as Azriel’s eyes narrowed at her with a scowl. Before he could comment more, Armen spoke again.
“She’s oblivious. It doesn’t matter if you fix her food, or leave her favorite pastries everywhere so she finds them, she won’t get the hint. Literally. I’m getting seasonal allergies from the amount of flowers you’ve left for her everywhere in this house.Seriously, this place is covered in flowers. Either start professing love or drop this little crush.” She growled out, walking out of the kitchen.
Azriel stayed silent before whispering,“It’s not little.”
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“Yeah, don’t let me forget to grab a few early starfall gifts.” Mor said. You groaned loudly, rubbing your temples. Even the idea of her gifts made you want to cry. Her starfall gift for you these past few years have been a collection of ridiculously fuzzy socks. Every.Year.
Of course you were grateful, but everyone knew Mor’s gifts weren’t particularly good. You now had a drawer filled with fuzzy and odd colored socks.
Velaris was bustling today. Fae of all kids roamed the streets, some tending to their shops. Kids ran through the streets playing games. Everyone was out enjoying the sunny day. You and Mor decided to go shopping to pick up a few items. Your eyes wandered back down to your list, a few more candles, a book or two, and some lotion.
“Starfall gifts? I don’t think you need to shop this early for them-“
“Nonsense! It’s never too early to do gift shopping!” Mor said, cutting you off. You sighed and shook your head knowing it was hopeless to argue with her.
After a few trips to some stores, you both ended up getting lunch at Rita’s. You ordered a milkshake- apparently a new creation of a cold drink? None less, whatever they were, everyone had been going crazy over them in Velaris. And of course you also got your favorite meal. Mor ordered practically half the menu, content to eat her heart out. You didn’t blame her- food was good.
As your plates were sat down by the waitress, Mor eyed your food with a questioning look. Your eyebrows raised in confusion. “What? You’re looking at my food weird.”
“Oh. Well I’m just surprised to see you ordering a meal here. You know Azriel is gonna harp if you don’t eat his food.” Mor responded, shoveling food into her mouth as if she’d starve.
“Huh?” You countered.
Mor finished her food before rolling her eyes. She sighed deeply as if you had troubled her. “You know..” she said, waving her hands as if that would solve your confusion. When you raised your eyebrows with a puzzled face, she put her fork down.
“You know- when you eat something someone else cooked or you’re not hungry, and he’s cooked you a meal. And you refuse it- he gets all huffy and puffy! Like a broody motherhen.” She continued.
“He doesn’t even fix me food that often-“ you argued.
“Oh please! Breakfast, lunch, and dinner! Full course meal on the table for you. If only someone loved me that much.” Mor said, picking her fork back up. “Those meals weren’t from the house hun. All I’m saying is maybe you should pay more attention.”
For the rest of the meal, you both sat in silence as you pondered over her words.
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Cassian laughed  as you entered from the hallway. His eyes shined with amusement as you waddled to the counter with your shopping bags.
The sound was enough to draw a curious Azriel to the room. He immediately grabbed all your bags despite your complaints, setting them on the table. He nodded at you in response when you thanked him.
“I thought you were only shopping for a few things.” Cassian stated. He stood casually leaned against the table with a drink in his left hand. Azriel stood to your left, his wings expanded. His eyes were keen and watchful. You doubted he ever missed a single detail. His skin glistened with sweat, a musky bourbon scent coming from him. Cassian’s skin was sweaty too, evidence of them training together earlier in the day.
“Well, the candle store had a buy two get five for free deal. So I bought  four and got ten for free! Cauldron I love Velaris!” You squealed, and Azriel smirked knowingly. He had taken note of your recent obsession with buying candles. Cassian shook his head.
Cassian's face lit up with surprise as you handed him two candles. “So I got one for everyone else. This one smells like leather and the other vanilla. I figured you’d like it Cas.” You continued. He nodded in thanks. You turned to Azriel.
“I got you this candle because I know you love blueberries. And this one is supposed to smell like rainy days and lightning. And this one is books and bourbon!”
Azriel’s eyes never looked down to the candles you had shoved in his arms. His eyes stayed on your face as you happily ranted about the candles. When you finished and looked back up to his face, he had a soft look. It was one you don’t think you’ve seen him use before. His eyes were soft and looked like pools of honey, and his smile was gentle.
You watched as he sat down the candles on the table and turned back to you. “They’re perfect.” He responded. He was so memorizing. You just knew whoever he ended up with would be content. You struggled taking your eyes from him.Cassian growled playfully.
“Hey! Unfair! He got three candles! I only got-“
Cassian was cut off by Mor smacking him on the back of the head as she trotted to the kitchen. She had a lot of leftovers to put away. Azriel gave him a quick glare, silencing him.
You noticed he was wearing all his leathers, and siphons. His shadows whirled leisurely around his shoulders and wings. Azriel watched as your eyes creased in confusion. He sighed. He couldn’t help but feel a shimmer of hope at the fact you had gotten him more candles than Cassian.
“Rhysand sent me on a mission, I’ll be gone for a few days most likely. I’m going to spy on the human queens and make sure all is well there.” He admitted. He watched as your face fell. You quickly smiled again and nodded. His heart thumped like a hammer in his chest. Did you care? Would you miss him like he always missed you? He wondered if you couldn’t sleep like he couldn’t when he was away from you.
“Oh. I see. Be safe.” You responded, nodding slowly. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the feeling in your chest. You had never felt it before. You wondered why all of a sudden you felt this way about him leaving.
His eyes softened even more. “I leave in an hour or two.” He whispered, head tilting to catch your eyes once more. Cassian had disappeared from the room all of a sudden, him and Mor talking loudly about dumb things in the kitchen. Leaving you and Azriel alone. “Let me cook you dinner before I leave.”
His eyebrows furrowed this time as you shook your head no. His smile dropped. He looked like a kicked puppy almost-
“I ate lunch with Mor.” You explained. Your explanation didn’t seem to comfort him as he shook his head in response.
“That was lunch. It’s time for dinner.” Azriel said firmly.
Your mind went back to Mor’s words. Pay more attention…what did she mean? What was there to pay attention to? Azriel cooked for everyone- right..? Your mind raced over your memories, trying to think of a single time you had seen Azriel set a plate down for one of the others.
“Alright then, fix me dinner Azriel.” You responded. Azriel smiled, pleased. His right wing flared, draping over your back. “Follow me.” He said, leading the way into the kitchen. His wing was warm against your back, as it guided you beside him. It was much larger than  you were, towering over your head. As you entered the kitchen, Cassian and Mor immediately scampered out shouting something about extra training.
You watched Azriel move around the kitchen in a graceful dance of grabbing pans and pots. He kept his wings tucked in, to keep them from banging against counters and tables. His hair was messy from training, or like he had ran his hands through it more then once. But it never failed to frame his face. You watched as a few shadows dart around, grabbing various spices and ingredients for whatever new dish he’d make tonight. He set a pan down on the stove before turning to you.
His scarred hands gently grasped your hips, lifting you up effortlessly. He sat you on an empty space on the counter. He huffed a laugh at your squeak of shock. He patted one of your thighs gently before leaving your side and returning to his pan.
Your face flushed with embarrassment. He had lifted you as if you weighed nothing, showcasing his obvious strength. Everytime he touched you with his beautiful hands, it felt like everything stopped. As if the world had slowed to let you enjoy the moment. Your hands wrapped around your stomach, wondering what this weird feeling that had overcome you meant.
He moved swiftly, chopping ingredients and throwing things in various pots and pans. You quickly realized by smell alone he was making your comfort food. You remembered the night a storm had rolled in. Usually thunder and lightning didn’t scare you- but this was different. The booms and flashes were intense, shaking the ground and keeping you from sleep. You had stumbled to the house library in an attempt to distract yourself. But you only found Azriel instead. He had scented your obvious distress and took action immediately. He helped you settle on the couch with cushions and blankets before asking what a comfort food was. A good 15 minutes later he returned with a plate.
You don’t remember much pass that, you just remember becoming tired and sleepily. You remember feeling warm all of a sudden and then you woke up in your bed that morning.
“It’s almost done.” Azriel spoke, bringing you back from your memories. His eyes were distant as if he too was remembering that same night.
You smiled and thanked him as he handed you your bowl and a spoon. He made himself a bowl too. He took your bowl from his hands and sat it down, before grabbing you and setting you back on the floor. His hands stayed on your hips until he was sure you were balanced. He guided you to the sitting room with a fire.
Azriel didn’t eat until you took your first bite, ensuring you liked it. And of course, you did. It was warm, and comforting, like a hug in your mouth. It soothed your soul in ways nothing else could, the flavors easing your body from any previous aches. Azriel had never made a bad meal before. You both ate in silence together, with the comforting crackle of the fire and warming food. But as the time passed, you knew it came time for him to leave.
Your bowls sat on the coffee table. Both finished. The house made them disappear, taking care of them on its own. You were always amazed by its magic.
Your head snapped to Azriel as he stood. He sighed, looking at the clock on the wall. His eyebrows were furrowed and he almost looked like he wanted to chain himself to the wall before even considering leaving. He turned to your sitting form. His shadows seemed to move more quickly and sharper around his shoulders.
“It’s time for me to leave.” He whispered. He watched as you nodded solemnly. You smiled, but he knew it didn’t reach your eyes.
“Thank you for the meal.”
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You watched as Cassian hugged Azriel in goodbye, and Mor nod as her own way of saying goodbye. Azriel had taken his candles to his room earlier, before joining everyone in the hallway. When one left for more then a day, you all said proper goodbyes.
Azriel turned to you, walking swiftly. His arms wrapped around you tightly, his big biceps practically squeezing the life out of you. He practically had to hold himself back from purring when your arms wrapped around his neck in return. Everything darkened as his wings cocooned you. His wings blocked out the noises of the others, leaving just you and him. His head found solace in your neck. His scent overwhelmed your senses in a good way. Before you had time to question Azriel being touchy, Cassian yelled,
“Ok! Ok! We get it, Azriel. Let go of her before you suffocate her.”
Azriel lifted his head, and his wings dropped. His eyes stayed latched on yours. A few seconds passed before he tore his eyes away and scowled at Cassian. His teeth bared in silent warning. Cassian backed down and turned to have conversation with the others. Azriel released you from his grip.
“I’ll be back soon. Don’t starve. And I left some flowers on your nightstand. I hope you don’t mind.” He whispered to you, fiddling with his hands like a nervous school boy. Your eyes lit up and you smiled gently.
“Thank you Azriel. Goodbye.” You whispered back in response. His smile turned upside down.
“I told you, call me Az. Or whatever you want- just not my full name. We’re closer than that.” He said in a growl like tone. He watched as you nodded your head.
It was time for him to leave now. He sighed deeply. The others had gone silent watching the scene with interest. But he didn’t seem to care.
He leaned down to your height, his hands grasping at your chin. He turned your head before leaving a gentle but firm kiss on the side of your cheek. “Sleep well tonight.” He whispered before pulling away. You stood in shock at the door to the balcony, as he said his last goodbyes. He waved in an almost shy way at you before taking flight.
You stood still, flabbergasted at what had happened. Slowly your hand rose to your cheek.
Realization dawned on you- he hadn’t ever fixed food for anyone else other than you.
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a/n; hope you enjoyed, let me know if you want part two! 🌙
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wandaslittlebird · 3 months ago
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Gentle With Mama
Stepmom!Wanda x Reader
After waking up next to Wanda for the first time in years, you find yourself rediscovering who taught you to be gentle.
CW: Stepmother/Stepdaughter, wet dreams, MOMMY ISSUES, breastfeeding, size kink, strap ons, first time? (kinda?), flashbacks, dacryphilia, R is a terrible fuck.
Word Count: 4.4k
A/N: This one is straight up Freudian filth, but I'm unironically proud of it so be nice to me.
A/N: There will be a third part to this eventually, but don’t hold your breath I’ve got a lot of other WIPs I’m going to try to finish first.
Part 2 of Her Special Girl
Wanda was almost embarrassed of the way her heart sang when she woke up with you in her arms the next morning. You were home! Her baby is finally home! 
She hadn’t really even realized how much she’d missed until you’d come back. Sure she thought about you everyday, wondered how you were doing, slept in your bed when she found herself unable to sleep, wore your hoodies around the house, fantasized about you while she…okay so maybe she had missed you more than she cared to admit. 
She giggled when she peeled the covers up to find both your thighs and hers covered in cum, as well as the sheets and the blankets. “Aww my sweet girl,” she cooed, pulling your head up under her chin. She kissed the top of your head stroking it gently with her thumb. “Did you have a good dream?” Even in your sleep, she could’ve sworn she felt you nod. 
It was tempting to shake you awake now. Maybe she’d even make a little fuss about the mess you’d made, watch your face get all red with embarrassment while you tried to hide under the blankets, covered in your own slick. God you’d be so cute. And she was willing to bet you’d do anything to make it up to her, little doe eyes pleading for forgiveness over something Wanda was not even upset about in the first place. She could have you as putty in her hands all morning. 
She shook the thought from her head. As tempting as it was, you’d had a rough week already. She opted instead to grab the discarded towel from last night and use it to clean herself up. Then she pulled back the blankets, smiling when you whined and grabbed around for them in your sleep. “Shh, detka. Keep sleeping. Mama’s gonna get you all cleaned up.” 
She gently wiped you down with the towel, shushing your whines as the cool fabric hit the warm skin of your thighs. You moaned when the fabric hit your core, stuttering your little hips against the fluffy towel. Wanda chuckled. “Settle down, honey. You're gonna get yourself all worked up again.”
When she finished with the towel, she pulled a sheet from the closet. She climbed onto the bed between your legs, lifting you off the bed while she scooted the clean sheet underneath you. She heard a sleepy little whimper in her ear as she lifted you up against her chest. “Mama?” 
She laid you back down against the clean sheet, pulling up the duvet to tuck you back in. “Shh, it’s okay little love. Go back to sleep.” She wiped the hair off of your sleepy face, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 
She wadded up the wet blanket, throwing it into a pile with the towel. You groaned. The extra blanket was definitely missed without any clothes on in the middle of winter. Your face reddened as you started to realize she was cleaning up a mess. Probably your mess. 
“Did I wet myself last night?” You asked, sitting up in bed as panic started to build in your chest. Did you seriously just wet the bed at 22 years old? Did you seriously just wet your parents bed at 22 years old?
She sat down next to you pulling you in to kiss your head. So much for not embarrassing you. “You made a little bit of a mess, but it’s okay. Mama took care of it. It wasn’t a potty mess, if that’s what you're worried about. My sweet girl just had a really good dream is all. You don’t need to be embarrassed, honey.”
“O-okay,” you nodded, still blushing fiercely as you curl into her. You were unsure if it was more or less embarrassing that you’d cum in sleep rather than having pissed the bed. Still, you were able to relax into her, recalling bits of the dream that had caused the mess in the first place. “Mama?”
“Yes, little love?”
“It’s not a bad thing to have naughty dreams, is it? Cause, like, you’re asleep and you can’t control it.” You couldn’t look her in the eyes as you spoke. 
Wanda chuckled and kissed the top of your head. She knew your shame well and never wished to perpetuate it anyway. “No sweetheart. It’s not a bad thing.”
You nodded shyly. “Not even if they’re about mama?”
Wanda smiled, pleasantly surprised by your admission. “Especially not if they’re about mama, honey.” She squeezed you tight, pressing a long kiss to your forehead. She bent and whispered in your ear. “Sometimes mama has naughty dreams about you too.”
You smiled up at her, kissing her jaw before kissing your way further down her body. You rubbed your hands over the soft expanse of her stomach, admiring each curve and dip with endless wonder, caressing her with gentle hands. You traced the stretch marks that littered her side, curving upwards from her underbelly and her hips. 
She’d always loathed this part of herself. She never, for a second, regretted her boys, but she could not deny the havoc having twins wrecked on her body. Two babies meant she grew bigger all at once, leaving her skin stretched grotesquely. She hated when people brought any attention to at all. 
Yet, when she looked down at your face, she could not bring herself to ask you to stop. You look at her with a wonder she’d never experienced before. The innocent look in your eyes was not one of someone trying to console her about her broken body, but one of pure worship. It had never even crossed your mind that such attributes could be considered ugly. To you, she was nothing short of pure perfection. 
You kissed her just below her navel, nuzzling your nose in the space above it. You hummed contentedly, resting your head on her stomach, rubbing small circles on her lower abdomen.
But after a while, your face fell from one of contentment and joy, to one of an almost sad longing. 
Wanda noticed the shift immediately. “Is everything alright, love?”
You paused, unsure of what to say without making it weird. You could barely speak above a whisper. “It’s not fair.”
Wanda tried to pull you up her body so she could hear you better and give you comforting kisses, but you were cemented in place. “What’s not fair, detka?”
“I didn’t get to grow inside of you. I had to grow inside of some rotten woman who doesn’t even love me anyway!” Frustrated tears pricked your eyes. Nothing was fair. Your hands continued to gently caress the womb you envied. “I hate her! She was never my mama!”
Wanda sighed, playing with your hair. She held an equal amount of hatred for your mother, if not more. Her lack of dedication and responsibility towards you had always been equal parts confusing and infuriating. “I’m sorry, detka. I’m sorry she doesn’t treat you like the special, important little girl you are. You deserve so much better than her. She doesn’t deserve to call herself your mother.” Wanda pulled you up her body again, this time dragging you up by force. She needed you closer. 
You conceded allowing her to slide you up the bed and tuck your head under her chin. She gently petted your hair and rocked you against her, shushing your cries and wiping away your tears. “Why doesn’t she love me?”
Wanda felt her heart shatter into a million pieces. She wasn’t sure what to say. She couldn’t understand how any mother could treat their child so carelessly, least of all when that child was as brilliant and wonderful as you were. “Because she’s only ever looking out for herself. Because she’s so blinded by her own misery to see what a beautiful thing she has created.”
Your hand gently caressed her chest, feeling her nipples harden under your fingertips. She shivered under your touch, watching you as you looked longingly at her chest. 
She recalled a random conversation she’d once had with your mother in which she had said she didn’t breastfeed any of her children because it was quote “not her responsibility to get up in the middle of night when the baby got hungry.” 
God I would’ve been so much better at being your mother. I would’ve stayed up all night just to watch your sweet little face as you nursed. 
She smiled sadly. She couldn’t turn back the clock, but she had you here with her now. She couldn’t change what you did and didn’t have then, but she could give it to you now. 
“Come here, sweet girl. You can suck on mama. It’s okay. You don’t have to be embarrassed.” She manually parted your hesitant lips with her thumb, allowing you to take her into your mouth. “That’s it sweet girl,” she cooed, stroking her hands through your hair. She ran her knuckle over your soft cheek, still covered in fine baby fuzz. Your lips were soft and warm around her. She thought she’d never get tired of the sight or the sensation. 
For a moment, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. Despite never actually having been breastfed, your body knew instinctively what to do. It’s like it had been waiting all along, for Wanda to come around. You sucked at her with effortless rhythm, perfectly massing her nipple with your tongue. But then, a new sadness and longing creeped into your mind. There was no milk here. There was no milk here for you, and there never was because she was never truly yours. 
You pulled away, shrinking back down her body. You clutched at her waist, nuzzling into her so hard it was like you were trying to crawl under her skin. You wanted to be inside of her where you'd be safe and warm and comfortable. You needed to be inside of her. It felt like the only thing that could quell the aching in your heart.
“Mama?”
“Yes, little love?”
“Can I…?” You pressed on her lower abdomen in indication. “Please?”
She looked down at you, your big soft eyes pleading with her. How could she ever deny you anything? “Aww sweetheart, do you wanna be inside mama?”
You nodded eagerly, still clinging to her lower half. 
She stroked your temple with her knuckle. “Alright, honey. You can be inside mama. You just have to be gentle. Can you do that? Do you remember how mama taught you to be gentle?”
You laid with your head pressed to her stomach, recalling what it meant to be gentle. 
—————
“I’m scared, mama,” you said, voice shaking slightly. You were 18 again, a newly deflowered girl who was yet to explore anything beyond a few fingers. The two of you’d been talking about this for a couple weeks now, and you were sure you wanted to try it, but you were still so nervous. “Is it gonna hurt?”
Wanda gently slid a soft towel under your butt. She warned you that you might bleed a little tiny bit, since it was your first time. “It might. But it will only hurt for a little bit, I promise. And then you’re going to feel so so good, baby. I just know you’re gonna love it.”
Wanda knew what she was getting herself into here. She knew the moment she was inside of you, you were going to be hooked on the feeling. She had no doubt you’d be begging for her strap every single time you were alone together. 
And god she could nearly cum from the thought alone. 
You, sitting at her feet while she worked, begging to be fucked just one more time. You, falling apart as she buried herself inside of you. You, incoherently mumbling her name while you cried on her big toy. 
Deep breaths. She had to pace herself. This was only your first time after all.
“Mama’s gonna be so gentle, okay? And if you don’t like it, we can stop and you don’t have to try it again,” she cooed. 
You nodded. Poor thing, you looked like you were already about to cry and she hadn’t even touched you yet. 
“It’s okay to cry, sweetheart,” she insisted, more for her own purposes than for your comfort. She stroked your cheek gently, watching the first of many tears roll down. “It’s okay. Mama’s got you. Take a deep breath for me honey.”
You nodded again, closing your eyes to take a deep breath. “I trust you, mama.” 
“I know, love. Mama’s gonna take good care of you.” She opened a little bottle on the side table. “Now this is gonna be a little cold, okay?” She said before pouring a little bit of lube down your folds. She slowly massaged it inside of you with her fingers, shushing your little squeaks of discomfort as the cool liquid hit your most sensitive parts. Then she massaged a generous amount onto the shaft of her toy. 
She could have, admittedly, gone a bit smaller for your first time. But, as much as she didn’t want to hurt you, she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to watch you squirm on a bigger toy. It wasn’t anything outrageous, of course, but it was still a generous 8 inches and probably twice as thick as the three fingers you’d had inside of you before. 
She slid the tip of the toy through your center, wiggling it against your clit. You shivered at the new sensation, your nerves still growing inside of you. She lined the toy up with your entrance. “Okay, baby. Take a big deep breath for me.”
You did as instructed, taking in a long shaky inhale, and exhaling. On the exhale though, she pushed the first inches of the toy inside of you. You cried out, flailing around underneath her as she pushed into slowly. Your hands shot down between your legs, pushing against her lower abdomen to keep her from pushing in any further. “Mama please, please mama it hurts.”
She took your hand from her stomach, gently placing it over your head. She intertwined her fingers with yours, allowing you to squeeze her hand as much as you needed. “Shh baby, it’ll only hurt for a second. I promise it’ll feel good in a minute. Just trust me love.”
You bit your lip hard, but nodded your head, allowing her to keep going. You whimpered and cried with each cruel inch that made its way into you, but eventually she stopped. 
“That’s it baby. It’s all the way in. Aww, sweet girl mama’s so so proud of you. I know it hurts baby but you’re doing so good,” she praised, kissing away your tears and softly caressing your face. Her body was flushed with yours. You squeezed her hand, trying to relieve some of the pain. 
She whispered soft words of comfort and soothed you while your face slowly shifted from contorted in pain, to mindless with pleasure. She used her free hand to wipe your hair from your forehead. “There you go sweet girl. Does it still hurt?”
You shook your head. “N-no. I just feel… you.”
She kissed your forehead gently. “I’m going to start moving now, okay? Just tell me if it hurts again and I’ll stop.”
You nodded, wrapping your free arm around her back, clinging to her. Your other hand still squeezed hers. 
She started slow, just as she promised she would. It stung, a little, but more than anything, you just felt full of her. It felt heavenly. You weren’t sure how you’d live your entire life without it. You wanted her buried inside you forever. Anything less, you thought, would be unsatisfactory. You’d felt heaven, and now you���d never be satisfied on Earth. 
Almost unintentionally, you scratched her back, leaving red tracks down her spine. She gasped and thrust into you. You cried out, freeing your other hand from her grip and wrapping it around her back, now clinging to her with both arms. 
“I’m sorry baby,” she whispered, kissing your temple in apology.
“It’s okay, mama,” you mumbled, face buried in her shoulder. “Please don’t stop. Please don’t leave me.” You wrapped your legs around her waist, holding her inside of you. 
Wanda knew in that moment, she had you hooked. She rocked into you faster, your old bed creaking with her movements. You whined and whimpered with each thrust, but matched her hips with your own. You were so desperate for her, so desperate for her to make you hers. 
“I-I love you. Mama I love you. Please don’t stop. Please mama never… I want you inside of me forever. Please, you feel so good,” you rambled breathlessly, clawing into her back. You hadn’t stopped crying through the whole ordeal. You were unsure when the crying had turned from pain to pleasure. 
She breathed heavily in your ear, your desperate clinging forcing her to double her efforts. She was only spurred on by your scratching. Each jolt of pain sent her hammering into you harder than before. “You’re doing so good, baby. Mama’s close, honey. Oh love, just like that. You’re gonna make mama cum.”
You felt her hips stutter as she came, finally collapsing breathlessly on top of you. She laid there for a few moments before reaching down between your legs to pull the toy out. 
“No! Mama please don’t take it out yet. Please just a little longer. Just for a little bit while we cuddle,” you pleaded. 
Wanda laughed breathlessly. “Okay, sweet girl. We can leave it there for another minute longer. But then you have to sit up and drink some water.”
She laid on your chest, letting you play with her hair. You ran a gentle hand over the long red lines that covered her back, occasionally hitting a spot that would make her wince. 
“Oh! Careful detka. You gotta be gentle with mama,” she said. 
You bent down and kissed her back, brushing your hands over the scratches more lightly this time. “Gentle with mama,” you repeated, coddling her body until she fell asleep inside of you.
—————
You nodded. Gentle. You remembered gentle. 
“Okay, detka,” she chuckled. “I’ll go get it.”
She hopped up off the bed, heading into your bedroom. She kept the secret toys in the top of your old closet with the remainder of your clothes, a place she knew your father would never look. She pulled down an old duffle bag that had remained almost entirely untouched since you left. 
She returned with a large scarlet strap, your favorite, already secured to a harness. You excitedly clambered off the bed, allowing her to help you buckle it around your waist. 
You were tempted to pull her into a bruising kiss right there, back her up until her knees hit the bed, and push yourself inside of her until you both forgot where you ended and she began.
But you promised to be gentle. So you would be gentle. 
You waited for her to crawl up on the bed before crawling up behind her and kneeling between her legs. She reached back to grab a bottle of lube from the drawer at the side table, reaching down to rub a generous amount onto the strap. 
She smirked when you whined, bucking and twitching against her hand like you could actually feel her movements. With how reactive you were, she was sometimes genuinely convinced you could. 
“Already, honey. Nice and slow for mama,” she instructed, allowing you to start slowly pressing yourself into her. 
You did as instructed, lining yourself with her entrance and watching in fascination as her body took more and more of you inside of it. Your eyes went wide and you watched a small bulge form at the base of her abdomen. In a moment of excitement, you pushed yourself all the way inside of her, bottoming out unexpectedly.
“Fuck!” She shouted, hands immediately pushing your hips back. 
“Sorry sorry sorry!” You apologized frantically. You hadn’t meant to hurt her, you’d just gotten excited. Your hand ran gently over her abdomen, instinctively trying to soothe the pain you’d caused. 
“It’s okay baby. Just nice and gentle for mama. Can you do that for me?”
You nodded eagerly. Slow and gentle. You could be slow and gentle. Just like she taught you. 
You tried again, this time succeeding at a slower pace. You reached down to touch the bulge in her stomach. Your heart raced with excitement. That’s me! That’s me inside of mama! 
You started to slowly rock your hips back and forth, whimpering as you watched the bump in her stomach slowly move. “Mama…”
Wanda had her head tossed back over the pillows, head spinning with the sensation of being so incredibly full. “That’s it, baby. That’s my sweet girl, being all nice and gentle for mama,” she moaned. “You can start moving, sweetheart.”
You moved slowly at first, clearly very nervous to accidentally hurt her again. But after watching the rhythmic movement of the bulge in her stomach for a few minutes, your thrust became more erratic. You rutted into her with absolutely no rhythm, your own head spinning with too much excitement to care.
Words like “slow” and “gentle” were forgotten to the wet sound of her cunt swallowing you. You panted pathetically, whimpering as thoughtlessly chased your own pleasure. 
Two hands fell on your hips, stilling them and forcing you out of her. “Okay, honey,” she chuckled, amused by your lust blown eyes pleading with her to let you keep going. “It’s okay baby, you’re okay.”
She grabbed you and flipped you over, pinning you underneath her. She straddled your waist. “Now just be a good girl and lay down for me just like that. Mama’s gonna have her turn now okay?”
You nodded eagerly, propping your head up with pillows so you could look at her. 
She lined the toy back up with her own entrance, slowly lowering herself down onto it. Your eyes went wide at the sight of the beautiful woman, in complete ecstasy as she took your toy down to the last inch. She threw her head back, moaning with unrestrained pleasure. 
Your hands clambered up her body, desperate to grab a hold of anything at all. She took one of your hands in hers, flattening it out and placing it against her lower abdomen as she rode you. “You feel that baby? That’s you, honey!”
You nodded dumbly. “Inside mama.”
“That’s right, detka. You’re inside your mama,” she cooed. “Oh fuck, you feel so good baby. Do you like being inside mama, sweet girl. Do you like feeling your big toy moving inside of her?”
“Mhm,” you groaned, biting your lip. “You feel so good. It’s so tight and warm. You’re so beautiful mama. So so beautiful.”
She smiled. “Thank you, baby,” she said, squeezing your hand. “Fuck your making your mama feel so good.” Her voice cracked and her eyes rolled to the back of her head. 
You sniffled, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. You could hardly take it, watching her face contorted in pleasure while you felt yourself moving inside of her. It was all too much. 
“Aww, sweet girl,” she cooed. “Come here, honey.” She pulled you up by the arm so you were sitting up, flush against her. She ran her fingers through your hair. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. You feel so good buried inside of mama, right where you’re supposed to be, huh?”
You nodded against her chest, arms wrapping tight around her waist. “Uh huh.” Your nails clawed at her back in a desperate attempt to pull her closer. 
She groaned at the feeling of you, slicing at her skin. “That’s it, detka. Hold onto mama, baby. I’ve got you. No need to scratch, honey. I’m not going anywhere.”
She continued to ride you while you cried into her chest. “Mama… I love you! I love you, mama! Please mama! I love you so much.”
“I love you too, darling,” she moaned. “Do you wanna make mama cum, sweet girl? Do you wanna feel mama cum around you?” She lead your hand between her legs, guiding you to play with her clit. 
You nodded frantically into her chest, circling your fingers around her swollen bud. “I wanna make you cum. Please. Please cum for me, mama.”
Before you could even finish your sentence, she was crying out, pulsing around the toy. She quickly swatted your hand away, instantly overstimulated by the intensity of her orgasm. 
You caught her as she nearly fell backwards. The toy popped out of her and bounced against her stomach. You eased her down against the bed, stuffing a pillow up under her head. You wrapped your arms around her torso, cradling her head in one hand. You pressed a long kiss to her forehead. “I got you, mama.”
You got up, making quick work of removing the harness before crawling back into bed with Wanda, who lay completely breathless. You managed to turn her around, laying her gently against the headboard so you could press a cold glass of water to her lips. 
She smiled, taking the water from you and happily gulping it down. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
You smiled back at her and kissed her temple, grabbing your pajama shirt and using it to very gently clean her up. She winced when you touched between her legs, still terribly sensitive from her orgasm. 
You grabbed her hand, intertwining her fingers with your own. “It’s okay, mama. I’ll be gentle.”
She smiled down at you, beaming with pride. “You really do remember how to be gentle with mama.”
You grinned. “I learned from the best.”
You tossed the dirty shirt towards the hamper, just barely missing and landing on the towel and blanket from earlier. Wanda chuckled, pulling your body against her own. She guided your head down to her chest, encouraging you to take her nipple into your mouth. “Do you wanna try again, little love?”
You nodded, wrapping your lips around her, suckling peacefully. This time, it didn’t matter that there was no milk there for you. It didn’t matter that you hadn’t grown inside of her, or that she wasn’t the first person to ever hold you. She was holding you now.
She was still your mama, and you were still her baby. Everything else was white noise.
Taglist: @wandasdove @themilfsland @moonxytcn @jordy-12 @the-lakes89 @boredandneedfanfics @bwe-esfr @wandasslut3000 @kaymariesworld @wandasfreak @lesbiansweet
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slut4sugu · 3 months ago
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I’ve been obsessed with Spencer Reid lately, sooo here are some head cannons abt my favorite boy genius <3 (szn 9-12 spence)
calls you old school pet names: love, darling, sweetheart, rarely calls you baby but when he does he’s either teasing you or begging you to kiss him more. his puppy eyes are lethal I swear to god (the things I would do to that man omfg.)
isn’t big on pda but loves handholding/locking pinkies: though he had to ease into it once he started being around you more as you two started dating he began to crave your touch more in anyway he could get it. Without being teased by Morgan or Emily ofc.
sends you a new poem about his love for you everyday: whether it’s whispering it softly to you as you wake up or texting it to you when he knows you’re awake.
has a thing for hair pulling: you discover this when you and Spence had your first makeout session, It started our sweet and got more intense over the passing seconds, his big soft hands coming to grip your waist as he pulled you closer to him. You let a out a soft moan before finding your hand in his messy hair, tugging ever so slightly unknowing of the almost whimper that your boyfriend would let out. “I’m sorry love, I-it just-“ silencing his worries with a kiss you reassured him. “Spence that was hot, so don’t apologize mkay?”
Remembers everything about you: it’s almost annoying how he knows when your upset, when your happy, when your horny. However when his head gets in between your plush thighs your previous annoyance slowly fades away.
Reads to you before bed: even if it’s a book he’s read 15 times by now, even if he knows the content without even looking, at it he loves the peaceful feeling of your head resting against his chest. occasionally presses kisses to the top of it as he read to you about some old poet or artist. You could never remember the contents just the sweet sound of Spencer’s voice that would always pull you to sleep within 8 minutes.
Everytime you two are clearing a house/dealing with rather unstable unsub he’s always infront of you: he knows good and well you can protect yourself but he just feels safer knowing that if there is something awry you won’t be anywhere near the threat.
is the type to spend half an hour on cultivating the perfect bouquet for you: as we all know spencer doesn’t just see things on a surface level, it comes with his job to pry and look beneath it. So when getting his sweet sunshine flowers he focuses on the meaning of each one, then recalls the ones you would rant to him about on your second date. He then throws in some candies and a sweet card too just because <33
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