#i love them so much ill vomit
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kinglykale · 1 year ago
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"I..I.. I love you"
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THIS IS MY ROMAN EMPIRE (Justice League Quarterly #4)
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sickficideas · 6 months ago
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always thinking about sskk...Akutagawa with a fever, curled up next to Atsushi on bed as Atsushi's sat up reading or working on something on his laptop...Akutagawa is upset of course that he's not the center of his attention right now but he's too tired to do anything about it ): All he does is make a pained little noise but that's enough. Atsushi goes "what's wrong, babe? you okay?" and it gives him butterflies ughhh...he hates how down bad he is for the damn weretiger....Akutagawa just tucks his face into the pillow, more out of embarrassment than defiance, but Atsushi puts down whatever he's doing because now he's worried. He sinks down next to him and rubs his back. "Do you need to throw up again?" he asks. He doesn't, not yet, but he doesn't answer because he likes the attention 💖
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okkennymay · 2 years ago
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[Looks at the calender and see’s three weeks has passed] awW maN whAT the fU-
I’m really glad I posted a heads up, ‘cause man like a brick to the back the head yah boi went down hard 💖 Even now I'm still not quite 100% but yah’ll know I'm nothing if not determined! 😤
Things were going so well initially! I was so happy that laying so low that I was practically a slug in the mud worked to get me through my usual round of rough days, so keen was I to get back to business- but then I was ambushed by a dreadful stomach bug and in my state, goodness it got me.
-bUT I ALWAYS COME BACK SWINGING ( •̀ ω •́ )✧
also there’s sound effects so unmute this bad boi
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rucow · 1 year ago
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my humble era is over, i now claim ownership over my faves and i Will be your voryn/phantom/hircine/fíli mutual. all yuor blorbos are belong me now
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voidwolf · 1 year ago
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i am currently writing the most normal fanfic ever. yup. so normal and regular. not a single weird thing about it <- guy who enjoys going into extreme detail about vomiting
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mrpenguinpants · 2 years ago
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damn you are amazing. you feel the characters so much that they come to life. i am sincerely delighted with how you competently revived the caricature features and beat them in various situations - this allowed me to see much more good in those characters that i did not think about because of my disinterest, and imbued with them.. thanks for being share your thoughts
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hdjfs tyty you're being too kind ;-; honestly, sometimes I worry that I'm being too influenced by what I want to see versus what I actually have. Not that, that's a bad thing or anything, I think it helps in a way. To be fair, it's all fictional but I at least want to write the character somewhat believable. But I'm vv happy to hear that you enjoyed my writing and how I handle characters :D
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take-it-on-the-run · 5 months ago
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Not A Lot, Just Forever
Dean Winchester x Pregnant!Reader
After throwing up morning after morning, the reader discovers her illness isn't what she initially thought.
Word Count: 4.1k
Tags: Pregnancy, unexpected pregnancy, brief description of motel bathrooms, vomiting (repeated), self-blame, mention of reader's mother dying in childbirth, mention of childbirth related deaths, anxiety, brief loss of consciousness, Dean is a sweetheart and will make a great father.
Characters: Dean Winchester, Pregnant!Reader, Sam Winchester, Castiel
@ghostlyaccurate requested: "Hii! I'm not sure if I already sent you this request, or if I sent it to someone else (oops🤭) but could I request a Sam Winchester and/or Dean Winchester x reader (your choice which one of them, if not both sepperately) where he helps reader deal with morning sickness, though he only finds out she's pregnant on the third day in a row that he's with her while she throws up. Ty!!"
Read it on AO3!
A/N: Adrianne Lenker title. I really really loved this request! I feel like writing the pregnancy trope is a sort of hard task to do, so I hope I brought it justice. I love love loved writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading it! Thank you for the request @ghostlyaccurate, and I promise I'm trying my damnedest to work through my inbox <3. Every mistake here is completely and 100% my own and of my own doing. (P.S. can you guess how hard it was to find "aesthetic" pictures of a bathroom and pregnancy tests for the pictures for this fic?? I think the ones I found actually work pretty well! Another thing, what happened to the yellow text color? I use it to tag fluff fics, and it's gone :( ).
Dean Winchester Masterlist | Supernatural Masterlist | Main Page Masterlist
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Your head hung over the foul toilet bowl of whatever motel you, Dean, and Sam were holed up in, and a rancid smell invaded your nose. In earnest, you didn’t have the slightest idea where you were. The past couple of hours had been filled with a slight fever and the constant need to use Dean as a pillow. Halfway through the drive between towns, you convinced him to switch out driving with Sam so he could join you in the back seat.
The worn tile of the bathroom floor offered you minimal comfort, and the fact you’re supposed to be up for a case in two hours made your stomach churn over again. Ditching your normal avoidance of motel bathrooms, you gripped the edge of the toilet and emptied your stomach again.
“Y/N?” Dean’s groggy voice called out from behind the door, “Are you okay in there sweetheart?”
You squeezed your eyes together, cursing yourself for being loud enough to wake him up. Sneaking out from his arms was a feat enough already, trying to suppress the sound of you losing your guts at four in the morning wasn’t going to happen; even in a perfect world.
“No,” you groaned as he softly opened the door, “I feel like shit De, and you know how much I hate throwing up. And how much I hate motel bathrooms.” You whined. Your hair was falling to the front of your face and you were cursing whoever decided a bathroom didn’t need a working air vent.
Dean hummed softly, pulling the hair back from your face and holding it with one hand as he sat behind you on the floor. He pressed his lips to the back of your head softly, and gently traced shapes on your collarbone as you laid back on him.
“Just breathe, I’ve got you if you need to go at it again.” He said softly, cradling you in his lap as you tried to breathe. He ran his hand through your hair as your breathing started to hiccup less, and eventually, he sat you on the closed toilet lid to get you water.
You felt ashamed to be keeping him up at this hour. Your phone clock read 5:13 AM, almost an hour past when you’d originally gotten up. He already doesn’t get enough sleep as is, and here you are sitting, waiting for him to get back like you aren’t able to take care of yourself.
“Here you go, drink slowly. Did you use the mouthwash I gave you?” He asked as he handed you his water bottle. He stood across from you, tucking his hands into the pockets of his pajama pants. You nodded softly, gratefully gulping down the contents of the bottle.
The bags under his eyes were already enough to make you feel guilty. Hunters were used to running on minimal sleep, but with you around, he’d just gotten into the six-hour range. He rubbed his face, inhaling like he normally did when he was trying to make a decision. You didn’t want to go out for the case. You barely wanted to move your body to get back in bed and salvage what little sleep you could before life kicked you back into gear.
“Do you want to stay here while Sam and I talk to the family?” Dean asked as if he could read your mind.
I love you so damn much. You thought, bowing your head with a sigh of relief. You didn’t want to be the one to bring up staying in; neither of you ever wanted to admit you needed breaks, but if the other one was to bring it up, it made the process easier.
You nodded, pushing yourself to your feet as he opened the door for the two of you, “yeah, I think that’s best for all of us. Don’t need me puking in the victim’s bathroom as you guys ask your questions.” You tried to joke as you and Dean crawled back into bed, tucking yourself into his arms, and splaying your legs haphazardly on top of his.
The next morning wasn’t any better.
Sam and Dean had come home late from questioning the family, and you were barely aware of them unloading the Chinese food they brought for you. Dean sat with you against his chest, still half-dressed as an FBI agent, as you wolfed down the egg rolls he got. You found yourself starving when they offered you food, but now you regretted eating anything at all.
You found yourself hung over the toilet again, but thankfully only had to put up with one round of saying goodbye to your lunch. You were able to get yourself up and over to the sink, where you repeated Dean’s routine from the morning before.
You leaned against the counter in the small kitchen, Dean’s water bottle filled with tap water in your hand. You turned to dump the rest in the sink when the creak of a floorboard behind you had you spinning on your heel in record time.
“Jesus Christ, Dean. Why are you up?” You asked in a hushed tone, placing your hand over your racing chest.
“I could ask you the same thing,” He crossed the small room and came over to embrace you in his arms, “did you get sick again?” He asked innocently, but the combination of those words, and the pitiful shift of his eyes was enough to make you feel like a child. You were a grown woman, you knew damn well how to take care of yourself much before the Winchesters were in your life.
You huffed in annoyance, pulling back from Dean’s chest. You felt your face begin to heat up, and it felt like anything Dean could say had the chance to send you over the edge.
“Yes, I did. Right now, I feel like my body is too hot and too tight for my bones, and I also feel like anything you say is going to make me hit the roof. Even if it’s nice, I just don’t think my brain can take in any more words without wanting to jump ship.” You said you rubbed your temples. Things like this had happened occasionally in the past, and before Dean, you figured it was just because you were a rigid person. One night a particularly bad migraine had led to you yelling at him because he offered to get you some medicine. Instead of just leaving you to stew, like every other partner did, he simply asked you to explain what you were feeling. No judgment, no interruptions, and he’d do whatever you said would make you feel better in that moment.
Now, whenever you felt overwhelmed, he did the same. He’d swallow any sarcastic comment or solution to your problem and listen to you. No matter what was bothering you, at whatever hour of the day, he was at your side, doing what you asked of him without hesitation.
He just nodded, pressing his lips to your forehead before he led you back to the bed you two were sharing for the case. His body threw off heat like a bonfire, and your normally freezing hands were appreciative of that. In this moment, however, it felt like you were burning from the inside out.
You adjusted yourself between the sheet and the comforter, so the two of you could still touch without pressing your skin together. Dean waited for you to still before he made himself comfy, and he gently ran his fingers through the ends of your hair.
“Is this okay right now? Do you want me to leave you be?” He asked, in as soft of a voice as he could. You hummed, smiling at the tingling sensation running through you. Comfort, and a warmth that wasn’t burning to the touch, crawled up your back, and into your head. You tried to focus your eyes for a couple of seconds more, but without your control, they forcefully fluttered shut.
“Y/N.”
Sheet tangled between your limbs, and you could see the light through your closed eyes. Opening them, you find an unexpected sight. Instead of Dean, or Sam, standing at your bedside, the trench coat-clad angel you’d met five years ago stood awkwardly, waiting for you to fully wake up.
“Cas,” you rubbed your eyes as you sat up, “what are you doing here? Where’s Sam and Dean?” You asked.
Cas sighed and sat at the end of your bed. He shot you a quick look, before focusing his eyes on the blank wall in front of him. He tapped his fingers on his legs, a habit he picked up from Sam.
“Dean called me and told me you were sick. I came in, and told him I’d try and cure whatever… ailment is afflicting you.”
You smiled at the way he spoke, and the fact Dean went out of his way to try and help you out, but there was something off about Castiel’s demeanor. You sat up and touched his arm to get his attention.
“Cas, what’s wrong? Did something happen that I should know about?” You asked softly.
“I think you’re pregnant, Y/N.” He looked at you, and there was a rift of guilt lingering in his eyes.
A course of confusion and shock coursed through your body before you felt a rotting pit settle at the bottom of your stomach.
“Why would you… think that, Cas?” You felt a tightness taking over your throat, rubbing your hand across your neck to try and loosen it.
“I can sense life forms. Human ones, at least. It was hard to tell with Sam and Dean here, but once they left I was able to confirm my suspicions.”
Your hand traveled to your lower abdomen before your mouth spat out a request without thinking.
“Pregnancy tests. Can you get me some, please? I just,” you ran your hand across your forehead quickly, “I want to confirm, using non-magical means.”
Cas nodded, “of course. I’m going to assume you don’t want me to let Dean know?”
You nodded your head before swinging your legs over the side of the bed. Deep down, you knew Cas was right. You were late by a few days, but you’d chalked it up to the illness that’s kept you on the bench for this case. You didn’t usually react as poorly as you’ve been to an illness, even when you’d gotten a terrible case of Pneumonia.
Getting up from the bed, you walked into the bathroom as Castiel vanished to get you a couple tests. Looking to the mirror, you’re met with a form of you that was a little scary; purple, slightly-puffy eyes, smeared makeup that hadn’t been washed off from days before, and your skin was breaking out in places it hadn’t before.
Dean hadn’t said a word about it, but even someone as blissfully ignorant as him had to have noticed the way your face wasn’t looking like your own.
Dean.
You’d have to tell Dean you were pregnant, with his child. That you’re going to be parents.
What if he didn’t want to be a father at thirty-six?
Children weren’t one hundred percent out of the question, but they were longer down the line in hunters’ lives. If you were lucky enough to get out of the life unscathed and find someone who would want to settle down with, you’d likely be creeping into your mid-forties, at best. Mary had gotten lucky with John, but now they’d both been taken away by the thing they’d spent half of their marriage avoiding.
What if you weren’t ready to be a mother at thirty-five?
For you, it wasn’t the question of wanting to have kids, but you never saw you or your boyfriend backing out from hunting anytime soon. To add on, you’d heard of many nasty births that ended in fatality for the infant or the mother, including your own. Every time you and the boys were on a case involving a child, you’d be extra reckless. Dean picked this up within the first couple of times you’d almost gotten yourself killed to save a kid, and you explained your fear to him. The fear of a mother not being able to welcome her child home in her arms, or the child not seeing his mother again, and their fate lying in your hands. You’d already ripped apart your family, and you tried your damnedest to keep as many together as possible.
A ruffle of feathers and a sharp knock on the bathroom door snapped you out of your thoughts.
“You can come in, Cas.”
Wordlessly, the angel stepped into the small motel bathroom holding a plastic bag. He pulled out three different pregnancy tests and set them on the counter.
“The woman working there said I should get a couple just in case one doesn’t work like it should.” He said as you picked up the first test. “I’m telling the truth, but I understand you wanting to confirm this to yourself.”
I know Cas, you thought, but you didn’t say a word. Instead, you stared at him, waiting for him to leave the bathroom, but he had a blank look on his face and didn’t move a muscle.
“Cas, I’m going to need you to leave the bathroom for me to do this.”
“Oh, sorry. Of course. I forgot how ‘hands-on’ human tests can be. I apologize.” He said blatantly before stepping out of the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.
Fuck me.
That’s what got you into this in the first place, dumb ass.
After twenty disgustingly long minutes in the decrepit motel bathroom, you walked out holding four positive tests. Cas was sitting on Sam’s bed, staring out the window, but immediately stood up and crossed the room to you. You handed him the tests, and he placed them on the table between the two beds.
“How do you feel?” He asked. Another thing he picked up from his years on earth was the ability to know when to ask what questions.
You felt blank. Void of answers and solutions to the situation at hand. Whether or not to turn left, or right.
“I… don’t know what to do, Cas.” Your voice broke along with the tears you were holding back, and a sinking feeling of hopelessness began to dig its way through your head.
Neither you nor Dean are ready to be parents. What if Dean’s angry? He would never kick you out of the bunker. The bunker is the only real home any of you have had in a long time, but is it safe? Is the world safe enough to bring a baby into? A Winchester baby, who would no doubt be a target from birth. What if the baby doesn’t make it to full term? What if this baby kills you like you killed your own mother?
“Y/N,” Cas placed his hand on your shoulder, “I’m going to ask you to take a breath.” He drew his hand up and waited for you to inhale. Taking in a shuddered breath, you followed the flow of his hand, stopping your heart from running up your throat.
“Thank you.” You said, sitting down on your bed and grabbing the pregnancy tests off the nightstand. Two pluses, two double lines. You and Dean were careful and used a condom whenever you found extra time together, but somehow God decided that rubber wasn’t going to work as intended.
“I think I’m going to just lay here,” you tuck yourself under the bed sheets once more, the tests shoved into your pajama pants, “and wait for Dean and Sam to get home. I’ll get him out of this stuffy ass room and tell him in private. Sam shouldn’t have to witness if we- if we argue. I know it makes him feel awful.”
“That’s a smart plan. You need to take this one step at a time and do it carefully. I know Dean cares for you deeply, but if you need someone to support you, all you have to do is call for me.” Cas squeezed your shoulder reassuringly.
“Thank you, Cas.” You yawned, pulling your body further under the covers of the bed. Castiel smiled slightly, before turning away and disappearing with a familiar rush of wings flapping.
Your body was covered head to toe in sweat, and the bed sheet you wrapped around yourself was thrown onto the floor. No light entered the room, and the time on the alarm clock read 1:43. Your stomach churned in a familiar way, and as you got to your feet you finally noticed neither of the boys were in the room.
You clambered to the bathroom, phone in hand, trying to call Dean. One hand braced on the toilet, and the other tried to thumb down to his contact. There wasn’t any time to think about the fact you were carrying a baby inside of you, the baby whose father is missing in the middle of the night with no calls or messages.
They always call. You thought before you set your ringing phone on the floor to throw up for the first time that morning. The phone rang, the sound slowly driving you insane each time you redialed Dean’s number between dry heaving into the bowl.
Your hair was sticking to your forehead, poorly swept away and held back by a rubber band you found on the sink. The heat, the pain, and the fear of losing contact with the Winchester brothers combined with the reality of you being pregnant was finally built up enough to break the swarm of emotions you barely choked down when Cas was in the room earlier.
Eyes burning, you slumped against the sink cabinet and brought your phone to your ear as you called Dean once again. You let out a sob, tears rushing down your face and neck, leaving behind a slightly burning trail. Your breathing became uneven, the sound of your own heart drumming through your ears drowning out the ring of your phone. Letting your phone slip to the floor, you brought your knees to your chest and folded your arms as a nest for your forehead.
Neither of the boys called within the twenty minutes you were in the bathroom, your phone was now close to being dead, and no muscle in your body wanted to obey your brain telling them to move and do something. You weren’t a weak woman, you took the cards you were dealt and tried your best to win, but sometimes all you could do was fold.
“Y/N? Y/N?”
A hand pulled your face from your knees, and you could barely see with the light of the bathroom now on and blinding you. A warm hand rested against your cheek while another briefly touched your forehead.
“Help me get her up, Sammy,” your eyes fluttered closed and you felt two arms hook under both your arms, laying them over shoulders as your feet lightly dragged across the floor.
“I’ve never seen her this bad, Dean.” The voice you now recognized as Sam said. Your legs were swept up from under you and you were laid on the bed you’d crawled out of.
You felt the tests still pressing in your pockets, and you thanked whatever greater being was willing to listen. There was no way you wanted to Dean to discover that information on accident.
Dean.
The other voice was Dean.
You moron, who else would it be?
The bed next to you dipped down, and you felt a gentle hand tuck a few stray hairs behind one of your ears. The sweat covering you was sucking every inch of clothing to your skin, and all you wanted to do was peel either of the pair off.
“I thought Cas was going to come here and help her out,” you heard his voice straining as he spoke, and you felt your heart snap in two.
You moved your hand, as heavy as it felt, and squeezed the first part of him you touched.
“Sweetheart,” you could feel Dean’s breath as he hovered over you, “you’re scaring me here.”
“Cas…” you gave out a heavy cough, “he came. He helped me figure out what’s been happening.”
A glass of water was brought to your mouth, and you took every drop of it. After swallowing the cup, your eyes finally were able to open. You were greeted by a worried Dean hovering very close to you, and a worried Sam crossing back from the kitchen holding Dean’s water bottle.
Sam set the bottle on the bedside table and sat on his bed, facing you and Dean. Dean’s attention was solely on you. His hands grabbed both sides of your face and brought his lips to your forehead, before resting against it.
“Hey,” you said, chuckling slightly, “I didn’t mean to scare you, De. You, or Sam.” You sat yourself up in bed.
“Did Cas tell you what’s wrong?” Sam asked, looking at you expectantly.
“He did, but… is it okay if I talk to Dean? Alone?” You asked softly.
Sam shot Dean a look, which Dean promptly returned with one that had Sam standing up, and walking into the hall.
Orange rays of light shone from the window of the room, and you could just barely see the sun climbing on the horizon. Dean moved to hold you in bed while you gained the composure to tell him you were both parents.
“Dean…” you breathed steadily, trying to even your heartbeat that was ramping up once more, “I have to tell you something-”
“I kinda gathered as much sweetheart,” he said lightly, lines forming around his forest-lorn eyes beautifully.
“- it’s important. I mean, it’s going to change our lives, for the rest of our lives.”
Dean’s face became more serious, pulling you to face him as he crossed his legs.
“You know you can tell me anything, Y/N.”
Do it, now. Just say-
“I’m pregnant.”
The air hung heavy around the pair of you as you handed him the tests in your pocket, and you could see the clocks turn in Dean’s mind as he stared down at them.
“But we used a rubber?” He said, and you could guess where his thoughts were wandering.
“We did, but you’re the only person I’ve been with for years, Dean, I need you to believe me when I say that.” You said reassuringly as you could without sounding like you were lying.
His face broke into a small smile, and he brought his thumb to trace over your lower cheek, “I know, sweetheart. I trust you with my heart, I just know not to use that brand anymore, seems like their effectiveness is questionable.”
You laughed, tears drying in your eyes as you pushed at him playfully, “Dean! You gave me a heart attack, you son of a bitch!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry okay!” He laughed, capturing you in a giant bear hug and rolling you on top of him. You looked down at him and brought your lips down to his.
“You’re going to be a father,” you said, beaming at him while smiling the hardest you’d ever in the longest time
“You’re going to be a mother,” he replied, smiling just as hard. Your face fell slightly, and the word mother finally kicked into your head. “Hey,” Dean said as he saw your face shift, somehow remembering the story you told him all those years ago, “Remember, we’ve got an angel on speed dial, and you know how hard it is to take out a Winchester.”
Your heart warmed at the statement, the baby inside of you was just as much L/N as it was Winchester. You loved Dean with your heart, as did he love you, and now the two of you were going to brace the dangerous world you’d spent years protecting with the amalgamation of that love.
You brought Dean’s hand to your stomach as he brought his other hand to your face. His calloused fingers were gentle on your skin, and small crinkles formed around his eyes as he smiled, holding his hand at your stomach as you gazed back at him.
A knock sounded at the door, making you turn your head around before you and Dean burst into laughter, and told Sam he could come back in the room to tell him the news.
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moonstruckme · 17 days ago
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hello mae! you said that you’re tentatively thinking about doing poly! jily? how about them x shy!reader who is used to spending holidays alone but now that she’s in a relationship, James and Lily wanna give her experiences of like carving pumpkins, baking cookies, or something like that.
just cute and domestic fall activities!! I hope that’s enough.
Thank you for requesting lovely!
poly!Jily x shy!reader ♡ 845 words
You smile, and James plants his lips on your cheek just before the flash. 
“Perfect,” Lily says while the camera whirs. She takes the photo it spits out, going to stow it in a shady corner of the porch. 
“Now one with you,” James urges. 
“No.” Lily waves him off as you second James’ request. “How would we get all of us and our pumpkins in it?” 
“James has long arms,” you say.
"Yeah, Evans." James grabs you roughly around the shoulders, making your face heat even as you smile. "I have long arms. Give it here."
After some debate Lily hands over the camera. James holds it out as far as he can, waiting until you’re all holding up your jack-o-lanterns before pressing the button. 
It goes beside the other photo, waiting for the film to develop. You know as soon as it does, both photos will be clustered in with the others on James and Lily’s fridge, held up by magnets beginning to lose their strength under the weight of so many. Lily has always liked to take pictures, and ever since you got together she’s been cramming ones of you into every empty space. This relationship is relatively new for you, and most days you’re still trying to figure out where you fit, but Lily and James do everything to make you feel welcome. In a million tiny ways, they show you all the time that they care just as much for you as they do for each other. 
James looks between your pumpkins pridefully. “Whose do we think turned out the best?” 
“Lily’s,” you say at the same time as Lily says, “Mine.” 
James’ mouth falls open. “Mine was good too!”
“Sorry, Jamie.” You give his shoulder a consoling pat. “Hers is just better.” 
The fact of the matter is, your girlfriend was simply patient where you and James were not. She outlined her jack-o-lantern’s face beforehand in marker, used a small knife to achieve the curvatures of one heart-shaped eye and one winking one, and took the time to make the edges of her cuts look nice and clean. James and you, however, tried to freehand things with much larger knives; it had not gone quite so well. 
“I think there should be points for creativity,” says James, frowning at his botched pumpkin. He’d tried to give it round eyes, and in the process accidentally cut more than he meant to. The result is jagged and vaguely upsetting, so eventually he decided it was an ill pumpkin and trailed its entrails out of its mouth so it looks like it’s vomiting pumpkin guts. 
“It was a very creative solution,” Lily tells James. And to you, “You did really well for your first time, too, sweetheart.” 
You snort. Yours is nearly as bad as James’. Both of your partners had to show you how to saw through the pumpkin flesh more than once to keep you from yanking the knife out and stabbing yourself. After many tutorials, you’d managed two triangle-shaped eyes, but the teeth you’d tried to put in your jack-o-lantern’s mouth had fallen out, so now it just looks like a rather simplistic, very upbeat face. 
“You did,” Lily insists, but she’s repressing a laugh too as she looks down at your pumpkin. “It’s cute.” 
“It looks like something a five-year-old could have done,” you acknowledge. 
“You and a five-year-old have about the same amount of experience carving pumpkins, so that’s not really so bad,” says James. He reaches for the polaroids Lily took. “Let’s see how these turned out.” 
“James Potter,” Lily’s voice goes sharp, “don’t you dare touch those with your slimy hands.” 
“Okay, alright.” James holds his hands up in the air. He stands instead, backing away slowly like Lily has him at gunpoint. “C’mon, lovie, let’s go fish the seeds out in the sink.” 
“What for?” you ask, following him as he carries your large bowl of pumpkin entrails inside. 
“If you separate the seeds and roast them, you can eat them.” James raises his eyebrows at you. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had pumpkin seeds before.” 
“Nope.” 
“Ugh. You poor, deprived girl.” James takes your face in his hands, and you smile despite the slick feeling of his pumpkin-y fingers on your cheeks. His eyebrows scrunch pityingly as he kisses above your nose. “We’ll right that wrong today, sweetheart, don’t you worry.” 
“You haven’t been missing out on much,” Lily says, slipping past the two of you with your photos. She wedges them underneath a magnet on the fridge. “It’s a lot of effort for a snack.” 
“She only says that because she can’t stand the guts,” James tells you conspiratorially. 
“Really?” You mash your hands into the stringy pumpkin bits. “I kind of like them.” 
Lily makes a face. “They’re all slimy and weird. And sticky.” 
“Wimp,” James teases. 
“You’ve just called them guts, James. In what world does that sound appealing?” 
“Angel,” James says in a quiet voice, “you’ll protect me, won’t you?” 
You frown at him. “Why?” 
He picks up a small mass of pumpkin guts and lobs it at your girlfriend. 
“James!”
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rafeandonlyrafe · 6 months ago
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devotee
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words: 1.8k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, MURDER!, DARK!RAFE but also equally soft!rafe, rafe is clearly mentally fucked uppppp omds, lets just say reader is very forgiving, descriptions of blood and gore, vomiting, pregnancy, semi public sex
you pant heavily as you look around the room, knowing the sight will haunt you for the rest of your life. your clothes are splattered with blood, but not your own.
you should have known this would happen. you blame yourself as you stare at the growing pool of blood around your boyfriends body. there's no point trying to save him, he's long gone, his eyes open and eerily staring at the ceiling, but theres nothing behind them.
you feel sick, and you make no move towards the bathroom. there's no point when the room is already a mess as you lean forward and vomit all over the carpet.
“aww, baby.” rafe coos, dropping the knife to the ground as he gathers your hair into a ponytail, holding it away from your face as you empty your stomach. 
“it's okay.” his words and the hand that is stroking up and down your back is soft, completely opposite of the heinous violent act he just committed.
you're unharmed, of course. rafe would never hurt you. his obsession runs far too deep.
“he's gone now.” rafe says as you stand up, looking at him with bloodshot eyes, snot dripping from your nose that you don't bother to wipe away. 
“rafe-” you mutter. the only word that you can get out is his name.
“oh, baby.” he pulls you into his chest. you don't fight back, releasing a sob, part out of guilt for finding his hold comforting, but mostly for your boyfriend dead on the floor.
you should have known rafe would come after him. even though you broke up with rafe a month ago, he never processed that you actually weren't together anymore. it's like his brain couldn't accept it.
so when you moved on, found a new guy who you liked decent enough, it only took rafe a week before barging in and ending him, thinking he was saving you.
“i got you.” rafe says, feeling you shake against him.
you can't get yourself to pull away, even as the metallic coppery smell hits your nostrils.
“let's get you home and then ill clean you up, okay?” rafe says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “ive missed you so much baby. the house feels so empty without you.”
“rafe-” you whine out.
���shh, don't try to talk.” he lifts you up so effortlessly it takes you a moment to realize that you're now off your feet, cradled in his big strong arms. “just let me take care of you.”
you know you should run, should scream, should call 911 and tell them everything. you should feel sadder for your boyfriend. you liked him. not like you love rafe, though, so you keep your mouth shut as he carries you out of the house and into his car, gently setting you in the passenger seat. he reaches across and grabs the buckle, doing it up for you before pressing a kiss onto your forehead.
the ride home is silent, your hand held in rafes as he breaks the speed limit to get you back to tanneyhill.
“you're home now.” rafe says as he pulls into the driveway.
you wait for rafe to round the car and let you out, of course once again scooping you into his arms. you never have to open a door when around rafe, or even lift a finger if you don't want to. 
he would be the perfect guy, sweet and utterly in love with you, if that love didn't distort reality.
“where was i?” you ask. “this last month?”
“you were having some time to yourself before that asshole tried to take you away from me.” rafes face turns sour at the mention of him. “but you're back now, so we don't need to worry about it.”
of course no mention of a breakup as rafe carries you right into the master bathroom. he sets you down on the counter before turning on the bath, adding a hefty amount of your favorite bath soak.
“what if the police come after you?” you question.
“they won't.” rafe says, walking over and cupping your cheek. “are you worried about me?”
you nod. you absolutely are. you don't know what you would do without rafe. even during your “break up”, he still paid for the rent of your apartment, sent you lunch and dinner every day, and texted you the sweetest things that always made your heartbeat a little faster.
“we’ll be fine baby, i promise.” rafes hands begin to work at taking your clothes off. you don't stop him, there's no point, he's seen it all before.
rafe undresses himself next before turning the water off once the tub is mostly filled, leaving enough space for both of you to soak together.
“ready?” he questions, thumb stroking against your cheek.
another nod and rafe is placing you in the bathtub before climbing in himself. 
you dunk yourself under the warm water, needing to get every drop of blood off of you. when you come back up, the water is tinted slightly red that almost makes you throw up again.
“i have a vacation planned for us.” rafe says. “to the seychelles, but if you want to go somewhere else-”
“that sounds nice.” you interrupt him. it really does. you need to get away from the outer banks for a while, maybe longer. 
“what if we moved?” you question. there's no point in pretending that you'll ever be without rafe. a breakup is clearly impossible, and with that month away, you realize that's not what you actually want.
“to where?” rafe asks, quirking his head to the side curiously. he's always wanting to know more about how your thoughts work, needing to learn everything he can about you.
“anywhere but here. maybe europe. london. madrid.” you shrug. “i just want a change of… scenery.”
a different town, a different country, maybe a different rafe. one where you don't know anyone for him to get jealous of and “rescue” you from.
“we'll figure it out after our vacation.” rafe offers, and you nod, falling into silence as he moves closer, glad the big tub allows for it as you cuddle together, eyes peacefully closing as you rest your head against his chest.
--
the resort is full of couples, mostly newlyweds happy and smiling and kissing, so it was natural when you sat down on rafes thigh to kiss him.
you hadn't realized how much you missed his lips, his hold, his touch, his cock.
rafe clenches his thigh muscle, hands coming to your hips and pushing you down onto his thigh, your bikini bottoms barely acting as a barrier as you let out a moan.
“rafe.” you moan out, keeping your voice quiet.
you're in a secluded cabana, but couples have occasionally walked past, able to see through the sheer white curtains surrounding the plush bedding.
“right here. right now.” rafe says. 
he didn't fuck you that night you came back to him, knowing you needed the rest. he didn't last night either, your first night on the island. the flight was long and you were excited to be somewhere new, so by the time you got back to your room, your were exhausted.
“but the people-”
“if anyone looks at us, ill just kill them.” rafe says.
you know it should worry you, that your first thought is then you'll have to cut your vacation short, but as rafe bounces his thigh, all care goes out the window.
“everyone here is drunk anyways.” you still keep your voice low as rafe lays back, switching so you're underneath him. “they probably won't notice.”
“mhm.” rafe hums, pushing his hips between your legs, parting your thighs as his crotch aligns with yours, rubbing his already hard cock against your covered pussy.
“tell me.” rafe says, burying his head into your neck.
you instantly know what he means. “you're my first. you're my only.”
it's the truth. you could never imagine sleeping with another guy. rafe is all you know, and all you'll ever know.
rafe reaches down, pulling his cock out but leaving his swim shorts as best in place as he can before tugging your bikini bottoms to the side.
rafe pushes into you in one smooth motion, making you moan out as your head tips back.
rafe stills despite the urge to obliterate you, allowing you time to adjust to his cock back inside of you.
“missed this.” you whine. “i-i love you so much rafe.”
“i love you so much more baby. id do anything for you.” including kill. the words go unsaid. they don't need to be spoken aloud.
rafe begins to swing his hips, pushing into you in slow and relaxed strokes, allowing you to build up slowly.
“fuck.” you whine out. “you feel so good.”
“me?” rafe chuckles dryly. “your pussy is so warm and wet baby, it's perfect. i would stay inside you forever if i could.”
you smile up at rafe, allowing yourself to forget the past and enjoy the way he's slowly moving faster, thrusting deeper and harder into you.
rafe cups his hand over your chest, squeezing your breast before moving the bikini top to the side to set your nipple free.
he's quick to arch his back and lock his mouth around your nipple until it hardens, his tongue flicking over the bud without a care for the path just outside your cabana.
“perfect body, baby. so perfect.” rafe switches sides, moaning around your chest. “everything about you is perfect.”
“i love you.” you want to say it over and over again. you pull rafes face to meet yours, kissing him deeply. “i love you.” you repeat.
“i love you.” rafe grunts out, keeping his hips thrusting forward. “ill never leave you. you're mine. im yours.”
--
you breath in the madrid air, letting the sun warm your face as you wait for rafe to return home to your new apartment.
when you casually mentioned wanting coffee, he was out the door as quickly as he could.
“baby!” rafe calls, heading through the rooms until he reaches the balcony. the smile on his face is infectious as he hands you a cup, of course the largest size, and if you wanted more, he'd be out the door again.
“don't think i can drink all this.” you giggle as you take the cup from him.
“ill just dump the rest.” rafe shrugs. he's so much calmer now that he's out of the outer banks. you've put everything behind you, deciding to start a new the moment your plane landed.
“it's not recommended.” you say. rafes eyebrows scrunch together, trying to understand what you mean.
“im only supposed to have a cup a day, but i still need to find a good doctor in madrid. one that specializes in what im going through.”
“what…” rafe mumbles, mind working overtime. you set your cup down as he thinks, already expecting his reaction when he works it out.
“you're pregnant!” rafe pulls you into his arms, the brightest smile you've ever seen on his face as he hugs and kisses you.
“you're going to be a dad.” you whisper into his ear, feeling tears hit your shoulder.
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chocum · 4 months ago
Note
yea tattoo artist choso but .. what abt tattoo artist geto
congrats on 1k btw!
eee thank youuuu 🙈🙈 i’m souuurrr happy you requested geto bc i’ve been wanting to write abt other characters. AND THISS got out of hand lollll ( 1.5k ) idk what came over me i just word vomited all over my phone… & it’s unedited
— tattooartist!geto x reader // mentions of smoking, m masterbation, fleshlight, cum eating, kinda pervy geto idk he tells reader to take her shirt off when she doesn’t need to so, nipple play, v in p, mentions of overstim, creampiee
suguru geto is one of the most, if not the most popular tattoo artists in your area— hell, probably even farther than that. just to book an appointment, there’s a waitlist not including the months and months he’s already booked for. so when you finally get that confirmation email after waiting for what felt like years, you physically jump up, rushing to get ready and go to the parlor
“i don’t have anyone today under that name, sorry”
suguru pushes a strand of silk black hair behind his pierced ears, the dragon tattoo on his hand moving as he does so almost like it’s taunting you.
“what? i got an email today i just-” your hand reaches into your purse slacked over your shoulder to pull out your phone and prove your appointment was today, but when you go back to check, heat spreads across your cheeks faster than ever.
the date said next month
“ya had the right day i’ll give you that” and he’s laughing. not at you but because you’re cute, he thinks. pouting, growing hot from embarrassment. “i’ll tell you what..”
he leans in and you can smell the smoke that lingers on his breath mixing like some sort of love potion with his musky cologne, his pierced eyebrow quirking, browned eyes staring into yours with puffy lips wet from licking, “i can squeeze you in tomorrow. was supposed to have an off day but ill help a pretty girl like you out, how’s that sound?”
and you’ve never nodded faster. smile pulling at your glossed lips, drawing his to get trapped underneath his teeth.
“here i’ll give you my number, i’ll text you the time ‘n stuff later”
with that, you leave his parlor, your number scribbled on the back of some old receipt next to your name and a heart.
geto’s no better than a man. no better. he goes home that night and texts you as soon as he’s tucked into bed.
hey this is suguru btw.
your phone vibrates on your nightstand, and you smile at the notification. it almost felt unreal, someone who felt so unreachable, someone like geto in your phone, texting you first.
hey!
he catches himself smiling at the message too, his mind trailing back to seeing your pretty face when you walked into the parlor. the way you looked around doe-eyed like a little deer in headlights. looked innocent, and he liked that. maybe a little too much, his dick twitching against the fabric of his boxers.
he only talked to you for a few minutes. barely even held a conversation, but god did you look good. can’t blame him for getting like this.
what time is good for you? like i said, im supposed to be off but had no plans so any time is fine.
your thumbs dance across your keyboard as you think of what to say in response. you’re nervous. and if you knew he was jerking his cock, you’d be even more. his hand slowly .. very slowly rubbing his leaky tip, his head full, overflowing and bubbling with thoughts of you. what are you doing right now? are you in bed too? squeezing his warm balls, cupping them, teasing himself, imagining it’s your sweet little hands.
is 6 pm okay?
the little buzz drags him from his thoughts.
yea. see you then, pretty.
the simple little pet name makes you feel like you’re going to explode. so warm all over your body, and you wish you could just time travel to the next day and see him already.
geto brings the palm of his large hand to his face, lolling his tongue out to lick long stripes on it, shivering at the feeling of his own piercing before wrapping around the base of his thick cock, stroking himself only two times. this won’t do.
he reached for the pocket pussy he keeps nested deep in his drawer. leaning over to let spit fall and dribble into the clear toy before rubbing it on his tip.
groaning, “shiiiiittt” his hips bucking up as he slowly lets it sink down— body twitching at the feeling of all the little bumps and ridges massaging his sensitive cock.
“fu- fuck juuuust like that, mhhhm”
imagining he’s inside your tight little walls, squishing him like he’s meant for you, snug and tight like a puzzle piece.
his chest heaved with every snap of his wrist, spit sinking out and ringing out the base of his cock leaking down to his heavy balls, “feel so fucking good baby”
so fast he’s already shooting into the toy, whining because it’s not you. wishing it was you, your warm walls probably feel so much better. probably sound so cute taking him from behind or from the front, your eyes locked onto his.
he came so much it’s leaking all over himself. so messy and dirty and he brings the toy up and licks it all out, shoving his tongue inside the rubbery walls to flick and clean it up.
“shit”
the next day came too slowly. to you but especially to suguru. he went to the parlor an hour earlier to open and tidy up, pulling his raven locs into a ponytail, letting a few stray strands fall and frame his face, counting each and every second.
and then he hears it. the little ding as the door opens, you push it open smiling up at him as you walk through and you look even better than he remembered. and he’s trying so hard to keep his composure.
he nods at you, giving you a small smile, “so what did you want to get, and where?”
at your reply he freezes, his hands almost crumbling up the paperwork he reached for you to fill out — “my chest”
“your chest?”
he parrots you. then he repeats it in his head a few more times. picturing you pull your little top up.
he can tell you’re not wearing a bra with how your nipples perk up and poke through the flimsy, almost see-through fabric.
you nod your head, mhm sounding and bubbling past your lips.
god, you’re going to be the death of him.
after you finish with all the paperwork, he pulls you into the back making small talk asking about your day. and you indulge, asking back, finding comfort in the normality of your conversation. he’s different from what people painted him out to be and you felt relaxed in his presence.
even more when he offers you a seat, cleaning it off before slipping on some black gloves. his hands almost bulge out, his knuckles poking through the latex.
“can i see the design?”
you pull up the picture on your phone and he hums, “and you said your chest, right?”
again he repeats it, almost as if it’s a mantra he’s using to calm his nerves. calm his dick.
you just nod, “do i need to take my shirt off?”
and well no you don’t, not yet at least, but he says yes, reaching forward to do it for you because he’s just so sweet, right? so nice and caring, and welcoming.
and he only wraps his lips around your tits to soothe you, right? sucking, letting his teeth sink into the buds, the silver ball tracing over them. his other glove-clad hand cupping them.
sinks his cock into you just cause he wants to take care of you, right? he could tell you wanted it soo bad. your thighs pressing together so tightly when he pressed his lips against your chest with a soft, “suguru please”
“mhm let me take care of you, pretty girl, spread em, hold yourself open f’me— uh huh, juuust like that.”
your little arms shake and tremble, hooking around the back of your knees as he pushes into your tight cunt. and fuck, he was right. feels so much better than his toy.
“fuuuckk found your spot, baby, ‘s right there? yeah feel good right there?” he rolls his hips up, brushing against that spot, his thick tip kissing it, making your body twitch.
“yes— fuck yes feels so good”
right about you sounding so fucking good too— his cock twitching inside the solitude of your pretty slimy walls. shivering at how you suck and milk him so well, so tight and warm. so fucking warm. feels so good he’s already close, but he wants to keep making you feel good, keep hearing you, and if he was to fuck his cum into you, overstimulating his needy cock to do that, then so be it.
“inside” you whine out at how he twitches, his stokes sputtering and faltering as he languidly pushing into your sopping pussy, leaking all over him, so wet.
“ohh — fuck ohfuck” and it pushes him over the edge, bottoming out to overfill you, make you nice and creamy ‘cause you deserve it. deserve it for being so good, making him feel so good.
letting his head fall onto your shoulder sweat sprinkling his forehead as he empties himself for you. for your pretty pussy, all for you.
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ikaroux · 1 year ago
Text
How are they with their pregnant partner? Itto, Heizou, Lyney.
Synopsis: Pregnant, your husband/partner is over the moon. But how would he take care of you during pregnancy?
Style: Cute, fluffy, female reader.
Bonus NSFW (18+) I remind minors to avoid reading this kind of content.
Alert: May contain story spoilers for some characters.
Characters: Itto, Heizou, Lyney.
Note: Wow, it's been so long since I've written NSFW…. I'm a bit rusty.
Then I'll have to do Aether, Neuvillette and Wriothesley, as well as diving back into rewriting the old texts in this series. I'd also like to do Freminet… Let me know if you're interested in other characters.
Since I now have an AO3 account, I decided to rewrite the first versions of this series to post them on it. I hope you'll still enjoy them.
Part 1 Diluc, Zhongli, Kaeya, Xiao, Venti, Albedo, Kazuha, Childe.
Part 2 Scaramouche, Dainsleif, Thomas.
Part 3 Dottore, Pantalone, Alhaitham.
Part 4 Cyno, Ayato.
Part 5 Tighnari.
Part 6 Capitano, Kaveh + Bonus
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"Ah?! A ba-baby!?"
Itto's reaction was surely overblown, yet the expression on his face was undoubtedly to die for. Mouth wide open, he stared at you in shock, taking a long moment before pulling himself together.
Bursting into laughter, he wrapped his muscular arms around you. "Ha ha ha! I've got to tell the Arataki gang! They'll be so happy to know that their leader will soon be a father! No, wait! I'll announce it to all of Inazuma! Let's have a big party! OYE! SHINOBU!" You hit him hard on the head, red with shame. 
"I forbid you to tell anyone until you're three months pregnant! Have I made myself clear?!" Your stern tone sent shivers up and down his spine. 
"Ah?! Why not now?" You sighed. You may have loved this man with all your being, but he was still exhausting your nerves.
"There's a high risk of miscarriage during this period, which is why I'm asking you not to talk about it... Please. Please." His expression slowly softened as his gaze dipped into yours. Again, he wrapped his arms around you more gently, tenderly kissing your forehead. 
"Understood, boss." You smiled, lovingly returning his embrace.
Itto's behavior during the pregnancy was so exemplary that the members of his gang, Shinobu first, wondered if he hadn't suddenly fallen on his face. He even went so far as to find "honest" jobs here and there to buy you maternity clothes and furniture for his future bedroom.
Your husband had the ingenious idea of consulting the high priestess Yae Miko for advice on your pregnancy... Peculiar. Itto knew of no demon in his circle who had fathered a child with a human. His instincts warned him of the risks you could run with a half-demon baby. Miko will make sure you're taken care of by a midwife who knows the oni world.
You felt terribly ill during your pregnancy. From beginning to end, your vomiting and discomfort drove Itto crazy with worry. You could see him running around looking for anything that would make you feel better. If you were vomiting, Itto would stay with you, stroking your back until it passed. If you felt dizzy, he'd lift you into his arms and sit you on his lap, rocking you gently until you felt better.
Often, you could see your companion admiring you with a blissful expression. "Why are you looking at me like that?" you'd ask him every time, knowing perfectly well his answer. You loved hearing him repeat the same passionate, loving words to you. "I just think you're beautiful. I can't take my eyes off you. Héhé." Itto always had this little blush on his face when he admired your rounded belly. Really, pregnancy made him much softer and more considerate than usual.
You didn't like people touching your belly just because you were pregnant. And it took you a long time to accept that Itto would do it without you grumbling. Yet it was his childlike smile and the stars in his eyes that gradually made you accept the situation.
Itto would often talk to his baby, telling him how his day was going or stories about the oni clans. You could only listen, rolling your eyes as he combined words with gestures. Even so, you couldn't resist stroking your companion's imposing hair, smiling tenderly as you watched him.
When your belly is rounded enough to be visible even from several meters away, Itto will make a habit of always kissing it, amused by the baby's kicks that would distort your belly. "HAHAHA this child will be big and strong, just like his father!"
It was quite amusing to see your companion preparing for the birth of your child, taking crash courses with a few women from your village. Shinobu was obviously making sure that his boss used the right gestures to calm a child's cries, change its diapers or properly hold its baby in his arms.
As expected, the delivery was difficult. Giving birth to a half-demon child demanded a strength your human body didn't possess. Blood loss made you wince and Itto thought for a moment he was going to lose you both. But you showed exemplary strength, and the support of your companion, as well as that of the high priestess, enabled you to pass this difficult ordeal. Your baby's cries echoed through the room, and Itto wept loudly, clutching your hand to his cheek. His tremors and muffled sobs made you smile tenderly, as happy as he was that all had ended well.
Itto was speechless as he took his child in his arms for the first time. Was this little crying creature his baby? The one he'd seen growing in your belly? HIS child?! He was so tiny, so cute with his little scarlet horns barely visible on the top of his skull. Not quite knowing how to soothe his crying baby, you showed him the right way to rock him and... Surprisingly, Itto was extremely good at it...
Your tender oni is said to be a very protective and cheerful father. He wants his child to always see the world in a positive light. He'll sometimes be a bit too daredevil with him, earning your wrath. Fortunately for you, Itto will calm down over the years…
NSFW Bonus
"POUAH, I'm exhausted!" Itto dropped onto the bed, arms and legs spread wide as he let his heavy eyes close. "The Arataki gang gave it their all again today. Hehe, at least we're not causing Shinobu any more trouble!" Watching him out of the corner of your eye, you smiled slyly, striding towards him with hushed steps. The oni opened his eyes abruptly when he felt you climb astride his hips, your hands sensually massaging his bare chest. You'd always appreciated the firmness of his muscles, taking pleasure in exploring each of his curves to discover the most sensitive places he hid. Leaning over him, letting your chest, slightly swollen with pregnancy hormones, rest against his, you nibbled his lower lip. His eyes, immediately filling with desire, couldn't tear themselves away from yours. You could quickly feel your lover hardening beneath you.
"Do you still have enough strength left to care for your companion in need?" You mumble erotically in his ear, teasing his nipples with your fingertips. "I want it terribly~" Itto lifts his hips to meet yours, one of his hands positioning itself on your waist to rock you onto your back.
"Do you feel that?" His hand crept under your clothes, passing the band of your underwear to caress your femininity. "Héhé~ you're already soaking wet darling~ Is it being pregnant that puts you in the mood?" Without giving you time to respond to his comment, Itto enters two fingers deep inside you, making you cry out in surprise. He knew perfectly well where all your sensitive points were, pressing slyly on them to make you moan loudly. Your body sought to escape the delicious torture he was inflicting, his fingers aggressively penetrating you. "Don't awaken the beast in me if you don't want to writhe in pleasure under my ministrations." Itto was a completely different man when he had sex with you, his usually jovial face transforming into a darker expression as his desires got the better of him.
Pregnant or not, he was never one to go out of his way. Itto knew he was big, too big for you, and foreplay was always a mandatory step before he could implant his sex inside you. "Look at you, darling, your breasts are so big with pregnancy. I want to lick them terribly!" Itto grabbed one of your breasts between his lips, adding a third finger inside you as his free hand groped his pants to pull out his excruciatingly hard member. It was too much for you, and your back arched beneath him, your hips swaying to the rhythm of his fingers. You were so close, and seeing him caress himself while he fingered you made you come hard on his hand. Itto pulled away slightly you, leaning toward the other nipple he hadn't yet teased. "Not yet... Not until you can take four inside you." Damn, that damned demon!
Itto looked thirstier than you, his eyes glowing scarlet as he watched you cum with four of his fingers inside you, just as he'd promised. Sex with him had always been sport, but now that you were pregnant, everything seemed more intense. When he finally penetrated you, that damned demon took a malicious pleasure in watching you from all his height, holding your legs close to his hips as he pounded you rigorously. His eager eyes darted between your face distorted with pleasure, your swollen breasts bouncing with each of his hip thrusts and your slightly rounded belly.
Itto was a man of stamina, far more than anything you could take. So when you begged him to stop, the oni would comply at once, fear settling in his brain. Had he hurt you? Was the baby all right? None of the above... But you were clearly close to fainting. Itto, aware that he'd been a bit hard on you, will take care of your body, immersing you with him in a warm bath, his big hands massaging your shoulders. He won't be frightened to see you asleep in his arms, so, taking advantage of your sleep, your companion will cuddle you tenderly, one hand resting on your belly, lovingly caressing it.
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"I'm going to be a dad? Really?"
You smiled tenderly, taking his trembling hands in yours. Heizou's gaze flickered between your eyes and your belly. A baby? You were pregnant?! His mind blurred as a vision of you with a round belly popped into his head. All of a sudden, the word dad sounded pretty good in his head... Kneeling in front of you, Heizou encircled your thighs with his arms, placing a tender ear close to your belly, a joyful smile on his lips. "I'm going to be a daddy... I'm going to be... Daddy!" Slowly, tears rolled down the cheeks of your companion, who had suddenly gone silent. Your hands were lost in his hair, cradling Heizou against you, feeling his tears stain your clothes. You waited patiently for him to calm down before kneeling down in front of him, wrapping your arms around his neck, your forehead resting against his as a gentle smile stretched your lips. Heizou closed his eyes, resting the palms of his hands on your cheeks, his thumbs lovingly caressing your skin. He breathed in your scent slowly, enjoying it more and more each day.
The two of you remained like this for a long moment, enjoying the tender silence that surrounded you. Images of your future life flashed through your minds. Heizou carrying your child in his arms, his gaze tenderly on him until that tenderness was directed at you...
Heizou was nothing but sweetness and tenderness to you. Even before carrying his child, this man never raised his voice at you or refused to take you in his arms. He loved to cuddle you, take care of you and listen to you. Sometimes, he would take you on his lap and listen to you affectionately talk about your future child, imagining your future life with him. You could sometimes see a dreamy smile stretch your companion's lips, as he imagined, just like you, this wonderful life.
Kazuha was a close friend of yours, so he was one of the first to be informed of your pregnancy. What a surprise when he knocked on your door, a gentle smile on his lips, holding your letter in his bandaged hand. "I've asked Beidou to make a little detour to come and see you. Congratulations, both of you." The two men weren't very tactile compared to you, who didn't hesitate to hug him in thanks. "Hehe, expect the title of Uncle Kazuha! What do you think Heizou? Sounds pretty good, doesn't it?"; "Pretty good indeed." Heizou replied, a warm smile on his lips. To tell the truth, Kazuha didn't mind and, in a way, was happy to know that a family would now be waiting for him back in Inazuma.
Your companion's job was a constant source of anxiety for you. The midwife had gently admonished you for this, reminding you that stress during pregnancy could be bad for you and the child. Heizou, who accompanied you that day, bowed respectfully to her, promising to do all he could to calm your anxieties. Obviously, you were feeling terrible as you left the surgery, crying your eyes out in your companion's arms. Heizou comforted you tenderly, murmuring words filled with love. After this episode, he promised you he wouldn't take any more potentially dangerous commissions for the rest of your pregnancy…
For a few weeks, you'd been practicing cooking for your future baby. Heizou was sort of your test subject, trying to create colorful and cute bento. He enjoyed it every time, looking forward to seeing what you had prepared for him. He loved the little octopuses you made with the sausages, or the animal-shaped onigiri. His favorite was surely the pink onigiri that strongly resembled a fox. He was sure you'd tried to imitate Lady Yae Miko in her yokai form.
Heizou was sitting comfortably on your bed, one hand tenderly caressing your scalp while your head rested on his thigh. You could feel his other hand warmly covering your six-month-old belly, occasionally enjoying the little kicks his child gave through you. Heizou's fingers had always had this magical effect on you, weighing down your eyelids as sleep slowly invaded. Heizou was happy to have you in his arms, confident and at peace, pampering and cherishing you. Your breathing was a soothing sound to his ears and the movements of his child against his hand, an affectionate warmth he loved to feel.
"Heizou, promise me you'll stay with me through the birth! The closer the fateful date gets, the more I'm afraid of what's going to happen..." Your companion took you in his arms, gently caressing the small of your back. "I promise I'll be there, from the beginning, until the end." His lips kissed your forehead, moving down your nose until they settled on your lips. "Together... Even if I end up with a crushed hand, I'll stay by your side." You laughed, hitting his arm without force. "Everything will be okay, Y/N... I love you."
Your companion managed your first contractions with impressive composure. He quickly took you to the midwife's office, insisting on staying by your side all the way, as he had promised. Your companion kept your hand in his, occasionally wiping your forehead with a cool cloth. He encouraged you all the way, worrying about your cries of pain. He knew it could last several hours, and seeing you suffer helplessly gave him a bitter taste in his mouth. Despite the context, he promised himself to remind you later of all the curses you'd shouted against him and the gods, while your mind was clouded with pain. He would surely have laughed if he hadn't seen the tears rolling down your cheeks…
Heizou remained silent for a long time, as he gazed with tear-filled eyes at his infant, comfortably ensconced in the crook of his arms. Sitting cautiously by your side, he finally dared to explore his child's chubby face, tenderly brushing his cheeks, nose and little lips. Curious, he placed a finger in the hollow of his palm, his little hand automatically tightening around it. Heizou let his tears flow, leaning gently towards his baby to kiss the top of his head, then towards you, lovingly claiming your lips.
Heizou will be a very warm and instructive father. He wants his child to be able to learn all sorts of things for himself, encouraging his curiosity and intellect. He will never be too hard or too strict with him, preferring to explain things several times rather than let him give up. He doesn't expect his child to follow in his footsteps, but he'll still be happy when he tells him he wants to become a great detective, just like him.
NSFW bonus:
You were naked, leaning over the bathtub to check that the water temperature wasn't too hot, completely oblivious to the olive eyes staring back at you with a brilliant gleam of desire. Heizou approached you, like a cat ready to pounce on its prey. His hand rested on your belly as his bare chest pressed against your back. You shivered as his teeth nibbled your earlobe. "You really are gorgeous..." He murmured sensually as his hands worshipped every inch of your skin.
"Hei-Heizou, you really are insatiable! We've already made love today! Twice!" You growl without any real motivation, your lover's hands slowly kneading your chest. You hear him giggle against your ear, pressing his hips against your buttocks.
"Is that a problem? I can easily guess you want this as much as I do..." That man and his damned intuitions! You quickly gave up the fight as Heizou sensually lowered one of his hands between your thighs, teasing your femininity with his fingers. "You're so wet already~ Is it pregnancy that's got you all worked up?" Heizou pinched your nipple as one finger penetrated you with ease, making you squeal against him.
"Stop teasing me for a moment! I need you..." You begged, your fingers encircling Heizou's wrist. Your companion breathed an amused laugh, withdrawing his hand from you to guide you to the bathtub. He didn't need to fight your desires, because after all... He wanted the same thing you did.
Heizou kissed you with tender passion, his hands resting on your hips helping to lift you onto his member. And as he pulled away from your lips to better admire you, seeing you gasp, head slightly tilted back and lips parted under the influence of pleasure swelled his heart with pride. He was the one who put you in this state... Singing his name as he touched all your sweet spots... You were so sensitive with pregnancy, it made him dizzy. He couldn't help it, he needed to see your flushed face, hear your moans of pleasure. Heizou had always enjoyed sex with you, but pregnancy made you so needy that he lost control…
It was so good to feel your hands in his hair, your body pressed against his with only your hips swaying on his shaft. Heizou loved breathing in your perfume, tasting your skin, having your little round belly against his stomach and your voice so close to his ear... Unable to take it any longer, Heizou helped you speed up the pace of your back-and-forth, making you cry out his name. He wanted to feel you cum, to have your walls tight around him. Heizou licked hungrily at your neck, grunting against you as he savored the tension rising in your abdomen, indicating that you were nearing your climax. And when, at last, you freed yourself from that merciless knot, squeezing his member in sweet, pleasurable torture, Heizou released into you. His heartbeat echoed in his ears as his hand tenderly caressed your back, murmuring soft words against your neck, feverish kisses wetting your skin.
Heizou will help you wash, towel and dress, taking you back to your room to rest... Until the next round.
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"I'd really like to start a family with you, Y/N."
That's what he'd said to you one night, as he cuddled you in bed after a session of passionate lovemaking. How could you refuse him? You felt ready, and so did he.
A month later, when you were suffering from persistent vomiting and exhaustion, Lyney decided to take you to see a doctor as a matter of urgency. How could he not be concerned, seeing you in this state for over a week? And why didn't Lynette seem more concerned about your condition? He didn't have time to ask himself these questions. Your health was all that mattered to him...
"Congratulations, you're pregnant." declared the doctor with a big smile. Lyney, sitting beside you, remained silent, his eyes wide with surprise, unlike yours, which had a smile stretching to your ears.
As you left the practice, you walked quietly through the streets of Fontaine, Lyney at your side. He hadn't said a word since you left the office... And that began to worry you. Did he regret it? "Lyney... ?" Whereas up until now, your gazes had fled each other, you put aside the fear knotting your stomach to confront him... And then, as you turned to face him, you saw them... His tears streaming down his cheeks... "Lyney! Why are you crying?! Don't... Don't you want this child?" Suddenly he took you in his arms, embracing you warmly as his face hid in the hollow of your shoulder. "Y/N... I promise I'll do anything to make sure our child has a wonderful life! I swear it! I'll take good care of him. Both of you. You'll never want for anything! *snif *. Thank you, Y/N. I love you, mon amour. I love you so much." It was your turn to cry, the pressure knotting your stomach disappearing with his words. Your arms wrapped around his neck. Yes, you were going to build your own home. A home filled with joy and happiness...
Lyney would be surprised to see you so clingy with him. To tell the truth, it was usually his job to be clingy. You didn't want him to leave your side or take his hand away from your skin... Pregnancy made you very emotional, and only Lyney's smell, his presence, his warmth comforted you... He never complained, and to tell you the truth, he loved it. Receiving free hugs or feeling you curl up around him like a koala when you slept always made him smile stupidly.
He'd obviously let Lynette and Freminet know, although both seemed to have already guessed your condition... He was happy to see his family accept your pregnancy with such joy. His sister and little brother were very close to you and, like Lyney before them, promised to do everything in their power to make their nephew's/niece's life a wonderful dream.
Lyney would bend over backwards to meet your needs. Pregnancy made you very greedy and your desires were sometimes... Wacky. Why were you suddenly craving a bowl of soba, a dish that was only served at Inazuma? No matter! He would learn to cook it to please you...
When you became pregnant, you and Lyney were just engaged. Seeing that your belly was getting rounder, Lyney thought you'd look gorgeous in a wedding dress. And he wasn't wrong... On your wedding day, when he first saw you in it, the harmonious curves of your belly making you even more sublime, he froze in front of your beauty. You were beautiful, as bright as the sun, as soft as spring, as gorgeous as the rainbow rose. He could hardly believe that this incredible being would not only be his wife, but also the mother of his child.
"Lyney!" Your husband gasped as he heard your angry voice calling his name. Your mood swings had been quite hazardous since your pregnancy, and your husband's slightest misstep sent you into a tizzy. "I told you not to leave your magic accessories lying around the apartment! I'm not asking you for heaven!" Lyney was quick to apologize, immediately putting his things away. After that, he always knew how to make amends, kissing every part of your face, massaging every sore spot on your shoulders, whispering words of love to you.
He loved to make you sit between his legs, tenderly caressing your belly to feel his child against his palms. He loved having you against him, your hands resting tenderly on his to guide him to the places where you felt the baby move. The first time he felt it, he marveled as children do at his magic tricks. He wondered if he knew that the hands on his mother's belly were those of his father, or if he recognized his voice... And you were sure he did, because every time Lyney spoke to him to tell stories, your baby seemed to react, bubbling in your belly. "Hey, mon petit ange, do you know how Daddy managed to seduce Mommy? No ? Then let me tell you a story~... It all started with a rainbow rose..."
Since you were pregnant, you had learned to knit. Lyney was silently raving behind the back of the sofa where you were sitting, humming a few nursery rhymes while you finished your work. Leaning back on the backrest, his chin resting on his arms, Lyney admired you with loving eyes, listening to the sound of your voice while you remained oblivious to his gaze, too focused on the little socks you were lovingly knitting. At that very moment, Lyney felt blessed by the gods... You were a true blessing in his life.
At times, Lyney was filled with doubt. His childhood had been miserable, he had never known the love of a parent, only the cruelty of Men. The hearth had given him and his sister a home and a family, but even so, Lyney hadn't had a childhood. Would he really be able to give his baby a happy childhood? Would he be able to preserve his innocence? He had promised himself to be strong, as a husband, but also as a father. He often discussed this with you, exposing his darkest fears. You were his light, always finding the right words to illuminate his darkest thoughts.
You were nearing the end of your pregnancy, and the contractions were becoming more and more present. Lyney, tormented by your suffering, stayed by your side, keeping you upright and helping you breathe deeply to ease the pain. As soon as the contractions subsided, Lyney took the time to help you sit up, then took care of your belongings. You were close to delivery and it was out of the question for you to take care of anything while he was around. The midwife was already aware of your close contractions thanks to Lynette, and Freminet kept an eye on you, occasionally refreshing your sweaty forehead. As soon as he was ready, Lyney called a carriage to take you quickly to the Fontaine maternity hospital. It had, quite literally, become a family affair...
Although the birth lasted only four short hours, Lyney was heartbroken to hear your cries of pain. The pain on your face made him lose his mind, and even though your hand was crushing his, he paid it no mind - after all, his pain was nothing compared to yours. All he wanted to do was encourage you and pray for the best... He was scared... Although Fontaine's technology ensured that pregnant women were well cared for, tragedies could still happen. Finally, when he heard the baby's first cries echoing through the room, he allowed himself to breathe. Crying his eyes out, he kissed your forehead several times, hoping to convey all the love he felt for you. "Bravo mon amour, you did it. You've done it. I'm proud of you..."
The first time Lyney saw his baby in your arms, his eyes would fill with tears, bellowing how beautiful he was and how much he looked like you... Almost hesitating to take his baby in his arms, Lyney trembled as he became aware of the reality of this being so small, so fragile... His child. Stars shone in Lyney's amethyst eyes as a happy smile stretched his lips. Gently, he placed a kiss on his baby's forehead, promising that he would always be by his side and do everything in his power to protect him.
Lyney will be an exceptional father. He will look after his child with care and tenderness, using his magic tricks to make his child's eyes shine with joy. As he promised, Lyney will do everything to make your life beautiful. He was a loving, caring, funny and magical father and husband...
Bonus NSFW:
You heard the sound of a door closing, indicating that Lyney had just returned from his magic show at the opera. Abandoning everything you were doing, you rushed to the entrance to find him... No one. The living room perhaps? You quickly made your way there, finding your companion slumped in the armchair, admiring with a gentle smile the stuffed animal he held over his face. You had knitted it for your baby, modeling it on the amethyst-eyed cat he camouflaged in his top hat... Gently, you approached Lyney, gazing at his beautiful, moonlit features. When he finally noticed you, his face lit up as he lovingly whispered your name. His hand reached out to you, inviting you to sit on his lap. Your heart palpitated, happy to accept his attention. Maybe it was because you hadn't seen him all day, or maybe pregnancy and its hormones were making you feel unbearably lonely. Whatever the case, this sense of urgency led you to him at a run, your fingers curling tenderly around his.
"I've missed you, mon amour." Lyney helped you settle astride him, wrapping his arms around your waist. The warmth he radiated as he pulled you firmly back against his chest made you want more....
"I missed you too..." You whispered back to him, eager for his attention, wanting more than just a hug. You felt insatiable, on the brink. It had been weeks since you'd been thrilled by him, though the look in his eyes made it clear he wanted to claim you... Was it your belly that was stopping him? Had he built a wall between you and himself to prevent him from giving in to his deep-seated desires? Yet when he saw the need in your eyes, Lyney languorously moved one of his hands up to your hair, tracing a slow line down your back to your neck before following the path of your jaw. Once he reached your hair, he gently grabbed a tuft, bringing your face close to his, your lips brushing lightly against his. Aaaah~ You could already feel him hard against your groin…
"Y/N, if you look at me with those eyes.... I don't know if I could hold it in... But I don't know if it's wise for me to make love to you in your state, ma chérie... Tell me to stop if you don't want it to get out of hand..."
Grabbing his shirt, you closed the distance between you and his lips, kissing him with need, your hips pressing a little harder against his erection. You needed him as much as he needed you... Now!
"I asked the midwife about it... She said it was safe..." You murmur against his lips before diving back into your kiss. That man was so weak under you...
Lyney took the time to prepare you with his fingers, encouraging your hips that moved sensuously to the rhythm of his hand working you languorously. Your companion always went slowly with his foreplay, starting first with teasing caresses on your clitoris before inserting a finger then two between your walls. His thumb, which was not devoid of agility, massaged your swollen nerve, almost making you moan loudly into his neck. Lyney was never silent during your intercourse, even when he wasn't yet sheathed inside you, he felt a torturous pleasure just by hearing the sounds you produced under his ministrations... Your belly had taken on a few curves with the pregnancy, and Lyney took a malicious pleasure in caressing it with his free hand, whispering words of love to you.
"Y/N~ Seigneur... I love you, ma chérie. I love you both... When I think that you- Hm! - carrying my child... It drives me crazy! I don't know why- Ahh~ - it puts me in such a state!" His hips crushed your heart as he withdrew his fingers to unbutton his pants, freeing his painfully hard, engorged member. "If you weren't already pregnant, I'd make sure you were tonight!"
"Ly-Lyney!" You cried out in pleasure as he began to penetrate you inch by inch, making you tremble on top of him. It felt so good it made you dizzy.... Lyney clung to you, rocking your hips with his hands to help him reach the bottom. You were so tight around him that he was sometimes forced to stop to help you relax.
"Relax mon amour... I don't want to hurt you... Ah! You're tight!" When he finally reached the bottom, Lyney stroked your back limply, his face buried in the hollow of your neck. You were both panting, drenched in sweat and trembling. The clothes still on you were becoming suffocating and you had to pull away from him to get rid of your top and bra. As you did so, your eyes never left Lyney's, who mimicked your actions, throwing his own clothes away before pulling your face towards him. His tongue forced your lips open, tangling with need around yours. It was a sloppy kiss, fueled by the desire you had for each other. This simple fact made your lover far more needy, his member trembling inside you. No longer having the patience to wait, you slowly lifted your hips, leaving only the tip of his sex inside you, before moving back down to the guard... It was a languorous dance, where your breaths served as music. 
Lyney would move slowly, his member touching the deepest, most sensitive parts of your femininity. He'd manage to make you see the stars with so little effort, sometimes changing your position to sit in reverse cowgirl or simply tipping you gently over onto the living room table, legs braced on his shoulders as he sensually pounded you. Your pleas drove him mad, always asking for more... And by the seven, he loved it.
After your escapades, Lyney would make a point of carrying you to bed, cleaning you thoroughly with a warm towel and kisses lost on your skin. You quickly fell asleep under his gentle caresses, giving him the opportunity to whisper words of affection to your belly. His hands tenderly cradled your belly as he rested his head on it, feeling the slight movements of his little one.
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sickficideas · 4 months ago
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Atsushi has panic attack every time his tummy hurts, because the pain reminds him of times when he was abused :(
Akutagawa rolls his eyes, but still holds him tight until he feels better. Also Aku awkwardly tries to rub Atsushi's tummy, plays with his hair, makes him tea, even though he hates being so gentle, he just want Atsushi to associate pain with caring, not violence.
I really do love the idea of Atsushi being emetophobic with himself specially because of his time at the orphanage...the pain, the punishments from being sick and throwing up, it's all awful associations for him...and even if he's not sick enough to throw up, he makes himself so anxious over the idea of it that he dry heaves and might puke anyway... Atsushi hasn't elaborated to Akutagawa why it makes him so anxious but Akutagawa puts the pieces together...I love the idea of Akutagawa being a very awkward care taker because he's not used to any kind of affection lol but Atsushi always appreciates the efforts and it always helps him feel better anyway 🥺 Atsushi falling asleep while they're laying in bed together and Akutagawa is just petting his soft hair🥺🥺💖
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courtingchaos · 11 months ago
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I’ve been thinking about eddie who’s in the early pre relationship stages with you. but in his mind he’s married to you he’s been pining after you for so long. he doesn’t want to scare you though so he’s pumping the breaks and trying to take things slow.
you’re spending the night at his and he’s managed to keep enough distance from you that he deems respectful in his courtship of you. but when he wakes it’s to your hand high on his thigh, and you’re out for the count. and he’s hard as a rock and needs to move you before you wake up and see what state he’s in.
not wanting to wake you and alert you to his issue he thinks on his feet and decides he has to become soft asap, then he can move you. then if you wake up it’s not going to be to him feeling like a complete pervert.
so he’s reciting his favourite passages from all of the books he’s read.
only it’s not doing much. the pretty girl in his bed is winning this round.
he starts reciting them backwards to increase the difficulty and hopefully distract the ache away. but in his ingenuity to up the anti he’s inadvertently made it so tough that he’s now whisper shouting the words out loud. waking you. eddie still hard as a rock reciting poetry in a wicked order that makes no sense to man nor beast, is stopped abruptly in his tracks, gasping at the feel of your palm squeezing the meat of his inner thigh. Mortified and yet. Still painfully erect with no hope of going down anytime soon
sorry to vomit this at you but it seemed like fate that you’d asked for a request (this is far too long and detailed I’m sorry) and I was thinking about this at the same time
1. Don’t apologize, you’ve struck gold. You have not dug too greedily nor too deep.
2. You’ve written this really well so I could just post this with a bunch of reactions under it but, if you’ll allow me to expand upon this.
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Picture this with me okay? He’s reciting Jabberwocky to himself. It’s a nonsense poem. He had an English teacher once give out a project for them to learn and recite a poem and of course he chose this. It has fun words in it like vorpal and borogoves. It’s become one of his bits actually when he’s trying to command a room.
“Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:”
Everyone will sigh. Jeff and Gareth and Frank will drop their heads onto their desks or over the backs of their chairs in long groans. Dustin still thinks it’s fun, he hasn’t gotten tired of it yet, and Mike likes it he just won’t admit it. Eddie loves it though, likes the way slithy toves slides off his tongue when he puts on that creaking voice he uses for warlocks durning games.
Now though he mumbles it to himself in the dark, his ludicrous attempt at bringing down his mood. Something had woken him at the witching hour, 3:07 shining a bright green from across his room. He wasn’t cold, his window shut against the chill earlier when you’d come over. He wasn’t overheated, quite content with you softly cuddled up next to him. No itch or ill folded sheet causing him discomfort. He had seven solid minutes of waking, a few he spared to revel in the heat of you lying next to him. To feel your shoulder lying on his as you pressed your face into his pillow. Your knee bent up and almost over his own and your hand planted firmly on his thigh.
Oh. That.
Those fingers he liked to twirl around his own and lick salt off of when you were done with your fries? Those fingers were under the hem of his boxers and a very much pressing into the meat of his thigh. You don’t move except to breathe but all he can focus on is that hand literal inches from his dick. The dick he’d kept in check for weeks now in the hopes he wouldn’t chase you away with the absolute need he felt. Kind of like right now where it lays heavy and hot against his thigh just like your hand.
So Jabberwocky it is.
���Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
But in the dark with a hard on, slithy toves makes him chuckle. Almost full on giggle and he slaps a hand over his mouth to keep himself quiet. Slithy toves sounds like a euphemism for pussy and he can’t help the huffs of laughter pushed through his nose. He looks down in the hopes that this has distracted his dick but apparently laughter makes him harder and he files that away to look into at a later date. Borogoves floats through his brain and he immediately thinks about giving your boobs a new nickname and he has to put a foot down for himself.
Next verse.
“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”
Bandersnatch has to be a euphemism, there’s no goddamn way, it has the word snatch in it. He rolls his eyes and before he can sigh you shift beside him in your sleep, closer with your nose in his curls on his pillow and that soft hand he’s thought about when his own is too boring in the shower scoots another inch closer to the problem.
Maybe if he whispers it out loud?
“He took his vorpal sword in hand;-”
Absolutely not. Nope. New plan when he feels your sleeping breath across the front of his throat. It ghosts over his adams apple and all he can think about is your lips on his neck last week and how he’d pulled at his hair after you’d left just because it drove him insane.
Maybe if he recited it backwards it would confuse him enough all the blood would need to race back up into his brain.
“Outgrabe…raths…the-no…mome the and…” He’s squinting hard in the dark, reading invisible words on the ceiling in this new attempt to circumvent disaster.
“Borogoves…ha. Damn it. Borogoves…the were…mimsy all.” A headache is all this is giving him but for a moment he’s forgotten your hand and where it was. He’s searching the next line in his head and trying to jumble it so it isn’t so halting in the early morning quiet.
“Wabe the in gimble and gyer did!” He almost claps his hands when he makes it through without pause but he stops himself for fear of waking you up. Instead he spends 20 minutes working his way backwards through his poem, whispering to the night about the Jabberwock.
O frabjous day indeed when he realizes his dick is half soft now, not such a nuisance and a terror after he’s distracted himself. He thinks about waking you gently, a hand brushing your hair away from your face or running lightly over your leg but then you move. You move of your own accord and hook your leg over his. Kneecap bumping your hand higher and if he breathed wrong right this second you’d be brushing fingertips over his balls.
“And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,”
He mutters without whisper. It’s not full volume speaking but he really doesn’t want you to wake up and find him hard and awake with your hand shoved up his shorts. As much as he would really love to feel your hands on him like that he’s been trying his best to be gentlemanly. Only necking on your timetable when you steal him away to a quiet corner. A little over the pants stuff, heavy petting but you’ve never pushed it and it won’t make you uncomfortable, no matter what his dick wants him to do.
“Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!”
Eddie sighs. “Jesus Christ.”
“Hm?” You hum at him. A high note in the back of your throat that has him whipping his head to see you stirring. Adjusting to your side and dra-a-agging that hand. He doesn’t know what to do as you come around and blink up at him in the dark. He can see the edges of your expression from the light filtering in from outside, smooth brow and faint smile until it isn’t.
“Di’ yousay sumthin’?” Slurred against his shoulder where your mouth is pressed.
“Uh, kind of.”
“You okay?” You press up against him, your pelvis into his hip and he’s about to be caught. There’s no way you aren’t going to notice the outline in his boxers or the way he’s gotta be sweating gallons just in nerves.
“I…yeah?”
“What’s the ma-” You shift to prop yourself up so you can sleepily inspect him and he wants to subsequently die and sigh happily when your hand meets trouble. “Oh.”
Oh. Oh? Oh yeah, no big deal, it’s just his dick showing up to ruin the party like the world’s worst frat guy. “Look, I was trying to make it go away and I-“
“Why?” Having just woken up your voice is soft in a deep way. Scratchy from dry air but it fits the mussed hair and the rucked up t-shirt you have on. His gaze falls on the sliver of stomach that you’re showing off between the covers and he’s having a hard time coming up with an answer.
“Why?”
“Is there an echo in here?” You laugh and slide your palm over his stomach that tenses. “Yeah, why.” Your pinky catches the hem of his thin shirt and pulls it up to reveal his own section of underbelly. “We’re alone right?”
“Y-yeah.” It comes out like a hiss though because your nails scratch across that newly revealed skin and right over the trail of hairs below his belly button. “We don’t have to do anything.”
“I know.”
“I just don’t uh, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
Your fingers move back and forth over his stomach before you let them dip back down to the waistband of his boxers, fingertip seeking under the elastic ever so slightly. “You’ve been very patient Eddie.” The rings on your hand are body warm but hold a child to them when they glide over skin. “I think we just had a little misunderstanding at first though.” Fingers comb through wiry hairs on their search for their prize. “I’ve been trying to do this since you asked me out, but I thought you wanted to wait.”
“Oh my god, no. I mean yes, because I thought that’s what you wanted but I read into things too much sometimes bec-ause fuck.” He was running his mouth but then you’d grabbed him. Wrapped that dreamy hand around his cock and sighed into his cheek like you were the one experiencing earth shattering euphoria.
“Eddie I’ve wanted to do this for months.” A slow tug to the tip and you do something with your fingers that makes his mouth hang open in a silent plea. Another twist before you run your thumb over his slit and he grabs your wrist.
“This is gonna be over so quick if you keep that up.”
“Well that’s not so bad, I was still a little tired.” Highlights pick up the line of your lips and that sleepy smile that’s all for him. Heavy lashes flutter when he lets you go and shoves his shorts down to give you room to work. “You can get me back when we wake up.”
He throbs in your grasp at the promised idea of getting you back and all that entails. He can’t help himself but think of wet and warm places while your hand moves in languid strokes. Hot puffs of air across his chest where you lay your head to watch and then he’s watching you watching yourself and falling into a vortex of horniness. He wants to weave his fingers into your hair for some reason. Wants to feel the softness between his fingers while you rub velvet skin through your own.
“Eddie?” You pant into his shirt, lips catching and dragging on the cotton.
“Yeah?”
“What were you reciting?”
It almost pulls him out of his pleasure it’s jars him so. Briefly he thinks about lying and saying Shakespeare but you’re already giving him a 3 am handjob so he thinks he might not have to fib. “Jabberwocky.”
“Alice in Wonderland?” Your hand leaves his cock suddenly but he doesn’t get to whine about it before he’s whining about you licking your palm and getting back to work. He nods above you like you could see him but it earns him a chuckle from you and a stray few fingers that tug at his balls.
“God damnit yes.” He does push his hand into your hair then, the other fisting into the sheets beside him. You make a passing remark about reciting it then but he honestly might not even know his own name. The way his legs move restlessly against the bed and his fingers grip into your scalp. The damp slide of your palm over the head of his cock, the twisting motion you keep doing, it’s all rocketing him towards his finish. The burn of it in his belly clouding his senses and making him buck his hips up into your touch. The air of your breath keeps breezing over his overheated skin and your panting laughs are shoving him closer and closer until he’s squeezing his eyes shut and going stiff.
Warm lines splash up his stomach and he knows in a minute or two he’ll feel shame unmatched by man heretofore known but right now he couldn’t care. Soft hands drag him through the aftershocks while you make praiseworthy noises into his chest. You coo at him for a job well done and he can feel the heat rise on his cheeks. Sitting up again to look back at him your drag a finger through the mess he made and when you take three seconds to inspect it he doesn’t expect you to bring it to your lips.
“I-“ He what? What can he say while he watches you suck on your index finger like he does? When a slick grin hooks the corner of your mouth up into something devilish and he has an awakening at almost 4 am.
“How was that, huh? Glad we got that over with?” You drop your cheek to your shoulder to give him a smolder but Eddie needs to taste your lips after you’ve tasted him. It’s a need not a want so he rushes you, pushes you back into the bed and gets his mess everywhere but it doesn’t matter. He kisses you deep until you both have to come up for air and then he’s peppering your neck in them until your giggling is too much.
He uses his shirt to wipe himself off, promising a shower in the morning, and pulls both of you under the covers to conspire in the afterglow.
“Do you think reading that poem is gonna Pavlov you now?”
“How so?”
“I mean,” your laugh cuts into your explanation, “slithy toves kind of sounds like a name for-“
“Pussy! I know!” He laughs with you. “And Bandersnatch!”
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sugudoe · 3 months ago
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more headcanons but don't know what to do? what to write for? MAY I SUGGEST 🫵 JJK X SICK READER. HOW THE BOYS CARE FOR THEIR PARTNER.
ᡴꪫ a/n: hii, this took so long to be answered, but here it is!! gojo, for me, fix himself in all of this categories, but i put him in the first two, because he might be a little shit to anyone weaker than him, but never his loved one, right? idk, actually. @emilyywhyy
ᡴꪫ cw: sickness symptoms such as vomiting and headache \\ fluff and crack \\ english is not my first language
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📲────𝗁𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖺𝗅 𓏸ㅤ۪ ︶ྀི
You don’t want to admit that you are sick. You will say that your nose is running because of weather change, and your shivers are, also, caused by weather change. You are fine, healthy as a horse ── except that the horse is nearly dying.
Don’t call attention, you think. So, you dress yourself in your uniform, and go to work.
He spot your illness right away, and have none of it. Grabbing your hands and taking you to your home. You can complain all you want, he doesn’t give a single fuck. You think you are above this sickness, but he knows better.
“Stop pouting.” He scoffs, as gently as a scoff can sound.
You, however, don’t stop. Even if you really, really want to. Because, after all, he has you wearing a comfortable pajama, sitting on the couch, and he is feeding you soup with bread.
The shower was hot, the medicines were taken, the carefulness of it all ── you love him, and he loves you. You will not say it, besides a small thank you. And he, the bastard with a smirk, will say “It’s alright.”
The pout is long gone, by now. You are desperate to sleep, and he lets you with ease, no kisses on the head, even if you complain (he will, a single peck). And while you fall to slumber, he will clean the house, keep tissues by your bed and, like a fucking psychic, a bow as well.
Throwing up in front of your boyfriend is not on the list of Things To Do With Your Love! But, hey, if he loves you while vomiting your organs out, maybe that’s good. Right?
Yes!
He is soothing, and calm, and collected. Let it be know, throughout your dazed weak state, that the moment you become healthy, he must be prepared to be smothered by your kisses.
He accepts them all, of course.
NANAMI, SUGURU, HIGURUMA, MEGUMI, SHIU, KOKICHI, NORITOSHI, GOJO
📲────𝖼𝗎𝗍𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝗎𝗆𝖻 𓏸ㅤ۪ ︶ྀི
Oh, poor baby! No, not you, him. Yes, you’re sick, yes, the world is hammering your head. But, look at him, desperate eyes and clueless questions. So cute.
You didn’t got up from the bed today, and he leave you to it thinking you need your energy back from work, not knowing that you are dying. Dramatic, aren’t you? Yes, the light in the room is murderous, as much as the sound of him making food, but you can’t do anything about it, except try to sleep.
He can only take much of your absence before growing clingy. So, he marches his way to your room, and… where are you? “Bathroom,” you answer amidst a cry.
The light is turned off, and you are showering with your clothes. Weird little thing you are. Dumb little thing he is. Still not acknowledging your sickness. Not until you tell him, and like that, his brain goes into normal human being mode.
He showers with you, making you stand and lean on his also clothed body, you close your eyes and whimpers happily while he pretends the hot water isn’t burning his skin whole. More minutes in, he changes you both to warm sweaters, and guide you to the kitchen ── is nuggets good to eat while sick?
No. But you do anyways, and asks him to buy soup. He does, easily. Except, he buys all flavors, to the point where you know the sickness will go away and you still will have soup in your refrigerator.
He will feed you, cooing at your crying face. And, he will also lick the spoon. Dumb bitch, you think.
He knows where the medicines are, so he brings them all to you. You search until you find the one you need, and a glass with water is being given to you ── can you drink cold water? Probably no, but, again, you do anyways.
He is a cute sight for such a painful time. He does everything accordingly, even if he might make some mistakes. But, don’t worry, next time he will be prepared… A bit.
CHOSO, YUUJI, TOGE, JUNPEI, GOJO, YUTA, TAKUMA,
📲────𝖺𝗀𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𓏸ㅤ۪ ︶ྀི
He knows you are sick, and it’s not as if he doesn’t care, but he simply forgets that some people ── you ── are not as strong as he is.
So, fend yourself, love.
Just kidding. Kinda.
The thing is, he might be the not cute clueless boyfriend, but he learns quick, okay?
So, the first few hours, he will keep coming back to the room, trying to see if you woke up, even checking your pulse, when it become too much. And, when it does, it finally clicks to him, you’re sick as fuck.
Effortlessly, he raises you from the bed and give you a shower, holding your sleepy head while mumbling with himself. He might have said something rude, you won’t ever know, because he is massaging your head right now, and that’s the only thing that matters.
He puts you back in bed with one of his shirts and panties, and he rolls you on the covers like a burrito, before grabbing your burritoself to the living room.
He gives you medicine. It might not be the exact one you need, and just the first pill he seen, but it does ease the feeling. He, also, leave you alone on the carpeted floor before returning with soup and more medicine, this time it’s the right.
You feed yourself under his cautious eyes, he only does when your wobbling fingers bothers him, with a “Tsk” he feeds you.
You want to laugh. “Can you do an airplane?”
You finish feeding yourself. Worth it, though.
He comes back later, manhandling you again, to the bed. Surprisingly, he lies you on top of him, caressing your back and your head, kissing your temple and calling you his weak little thing, that he actually loves. Well, he doesn’t say that exactly, but you rather see it as that, even in your dazed state.
SUKUNA, TOJI, KUSAKABE
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wayneskluv · 8 months ago
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it’s possible she wants you back ¡! ❞ | n. romanoff
summary: your super cool assassin gf broke up with you but she wants you back sooo win win ig | pt 2 with fluff/smut?
word count: 711
pairing: natasha romanoff x gn!reader
warning: mentions of alc/nat being drunk, use of petnames “love” & “baby”
authors note: i would let her do anything to me but i'd also give her a hug and tell her everything's gonna be okay & the use of y/n, i had to for it to make sense, please forgive me 🙏
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NATASHA thought breaking up with you would be for your own good, she didn’t deserve you. She was always late for date night due to her duties as an avenger, she had consistent nightmares that kept you awake and she was jealous of anyone who, well, looked at you—she couldn’t really blame them though.
“Baby..” Her whines echoed from behind your front door, from where a slightly intoxicated drunk as fuck Natasha was located. She was too drunk to be able to knock on the door, but you knew she was there, you knew her voice.
You take a deep breath, before you place a trembling hand on your door handle and gently pushing down as if it would break if you looked at it. "Jesus, Nat." A small sigh escapes you as you register her pathetic state, your hand instinctively reaching out to prop her upright. You haven't seen her this drunk in years, and she, most certainly, was not a lightweight.
"C'mon." You gently guide her into your living room, being as delicate as humanly possible. You sit her down on your couch, though as soon as you let go, she sprawls out lazily. "Gotta sit up, Nat. Don't wanna be sick.” You sound like a disappointed parent berating your child, because as much as you were mad at your ex, you loved her with your entire heart, and you still cared about her immensely.
You begin to rise to your feet, to go grab her a glass of water, before a pitiful hand drapes across your arm. "Please, Don't hiccup leave me." If it was anyone else, you'd have pushed them off immediately but you couldn't ignore her pleading eyes. "Yeah, 's okay. I'll stay. 'm not going anywhere."
As you speaks, the thick stench of liquor floods your senses and you feel ever-so-slightly ill. "Nat, love, what happened?" The breakup was fresh, the pet-name was a slip of the tongue, but you couldn't go back now—it’s not like she'd remember in the morning.
"Miss you. So, so, so much." The words roll off her tongue in a drunken slur, and you wouldn't have heard them if you weren't paying careful attention to her. You felt sorry for her, in all honesty-sure, she'd broken up with you without telling you why, and sure, she'd been acting distant, but she seemed genuinely upset.
"You still haven't told me why you broke up with me." You let out a dry chuckle, your shoulders untensing subtly as you notice her slowly regain colour to her face. “Okay, I'll tell you, but you can't tell y/n." The drunken hush she tries to add to her elevated tone is adorable and you have to stifle a grin as you nod, mock seriously. "| promise."
Once she gets your confirmation, she pauses for a few seconds as her head throbs harder, but then it slows and her eyes meet yours. "I was worried I wasn't good enough." Oh. That's not what you were expecting. You were expecting her to say it was something you did, like put an empty peanut butter jar back in the cupboard or anything, really, she has a bit of a temper.
"Really? So it's nothing I did?" Your voice goes up three octaves as you glance down at her, nervously biting down on your bottom lip. "What? 'Course not." It's clear the alcohol is taking a toll on her, and she looks as if she's going to vomit all over you.
You let out a slightly overdramatic sigh, “You take the bed, l'll the couch.” Your arm loops down around her waist, carefully pulling her up off the couch—if you weren't holding her so tightly, she'd had fallen head first into the ground.
The sound of hiccups echo your apartment as you both walk into your bedroom, something she was rather familiar with. You took no caution in letting her drop onto your bed, though you made sure she was in a proper sleeping position to avoid choking on her own vomit.
She falls asleep almost immediately and it's the first time since you've broken up you've seen her look so peaceful. You stand in the door for a few more moments before reluctantly dragging yourself toward the couch.
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mrsnancywheeler · 9 months ago
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let me down easy // finnick odair x f. reader
based off this blurb
summary: finnick pushed himself away, isolated himself, and you're slipping through his fingers like sand.
masterlist
3.8k words
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warnings: angst, a tiny bit of fluff at the end, a little smutty but also very brief, mental illness, insecurity, paranoia, allusions to cheating (no one is actually cheating), slightly mean!finnick, self destructive behavior on all sides, more insecurities, arguments, feeling isolated, slight blood and injury, female rage things, male masturbation, unedited, no use of y/n, brief mentions of vomiting, girls girls all around, annie cresta my beloved being a girl girl, people pleaser reader
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
Once every day had felt like it was full of sunlight, even if there were ups and downs you always had each other by the end of it. Now you weren't even sure if you had yourself, let alone Finnick. Worst of all you had no idea what you'd done wrong, at first you chalked it up to how he'd just returned from the Capitol. But usually his isolation was a day at the most before he'd succumb to your comfort. Instead it had been nearly a month of radio silence.
He stopped the way he'd pepper your face with kisses to wake you up and bring you to the kitchen where he'd have made breakfast, telling you mindless stories about his morning swim. Now if he did anything for you it felt robotic, out of necessity, there was no helping you with your hair, having fun picking out your outfits, he was barely around. Never would you have thought you could be such an outcast in your own home, your own relationship.
At first you'd thought you just weren't doing enough, that he needed some extra love to help him open up. Reluctantly you'd fully wake yourself up when you felt him rise for his swim, take up the position of making him breakfast instead. Busying yourself with his favorites until he returned and you put on your best smile when he did, hopeful it would be somewhat successful.
“Good morning!” You greeted and were met with a confused look, a nod. You'd always hated getting up this early yet here you were and he did nothing.
“I have to take a shower." He muttered and was up the stairs. It was a disappointing resolution, but then your hopes had still been high. So you kept making his favorites throughout the next few days, scattering gifts for him throughout the house, writing notes to hide where he might find them, desperate to show him how much you loved him.
“Where are you going?" Your voice startled him and he slowly turned his head towards you.
Finnick's voice was so dry, rigid, “Fishing."
“Oh, let me get my shoes on, I'll come with!" Bright smiles, you reminded yourself when it felt like wavering.
“I'd rather go alone."
“Right." It wanted to falter so bad, “How long are you gonna be gone? I could make you lunch to go or something."
“I'm okay."
You fidgeted with your fingers, “Yeah, okay, well, um, have fun." Then he was gone, without a kiss, even a hug goodbye. Come to think of it there hadn't been any at all for a while, not even in the morning which is something he'd always do. So after a few days failing with those attempts you'd convinced yourself of a different reason.
“Annie, be honest with me, do you think I'm pretty?" The two of you had been out in the garden of Victors Village and she seemed taken aback.
“Honey, of course you're pretty. You're beautiful, what brought this on?" She dropped what she was doing to look at you.
You darted around the specifics, “What about the way I dress, is it too frumpy?"
“No! There's nothing wrong with anything about you." Her voice was so soft and she felt like the only person you could talk to now that Finnick had pushed himself away from you. “What's going on?"
You felt yourself finally crying all the held back tears you'd hid for the moments alone, “What if he's found someone prettier and more exciting?” You sobbed out and Annie hugged you.
"Finnick worships the ground you walk on, he'd never do that.”
"He barely even talks to me anymore, Annie. It's like I don't exist.”
“He's just going through a rough patch, it's not your fault."
Regardless of what Annie said, you disagreed. He must have had someone else, but you couldn't confront him about it. No, if you did then it would become real and he'd leave you for them. There had to be someone else taking on his hardships and loving him the way he'd once let you. So you bought new makeup, new lingerie, new clothes, tried to feel more attractive, more desirable. Yet it didn't seem like he even noticed.
You'd waited for his return all day, he'd left so early you hadn't even seen him. You made dinner praying that he'd see the effort you made, and find you irresistible once again. Of course, this effort seemed to be in vain.
“Welcome home, Finn!" You greeted when he walked through the front door, pained by the sound of your own faux bubbly voice. You put a plate down in front of his usual seat.
“Thanks." He mumbled and you smiled cheerfully. Perhaps you'd been too solemn and he'd prefer someone who exuded more sunshine-like behavior. “How was your day?" His voice was sharp, curt, but it was a conversation nonetheless. Always better than nothing.
“It was good!" You lied through your teeth, there hadn't been a single moment where your brain hadn't been infested with the thought of him pushing you away, him with someone else. It was something you desiped, you preferred to be in the moment. When you had been confident in yours and Finnick's relationship you could immerse yourself in the company of others, enjoy menial tasks with humming and daydreams, but now the isolation haunted your mind. “Annie and I planted some new flowers and cut some that recently finished blooming. I finally changed our vases out." He didn't even glance around, just kept eating. Your Finnick had always made an effort to look around, praise you for anything you did, he took pride in you, now the only thing he took pride in was being able to avoid you.
He curtly nodded his head in response and you felt like you might snap. Especially as the silence persisted, nothing except the sounds of the house and his fork clinking on the plate. You chewed at your bottom lip, leg bouncing up and down waiting for the smallest bit of conversation, but nothing came. Eventually you shot out of your seat, grabbed your plate, which you were sure you wouldn't be able to stomach, and began cleaning up dinner. Hands gripping each dish so hard as if to contain all the rage you'd been repressing.
“I can clean up." Finnick murmured as he rose.
Being lazy was another thing you thought could be a reason. He did so much for you and whatever you had to offer must not have been enough. Yes, he'd always insisted that you should just be his pretty girl that he could look at when he did the tasks, but in secret he must have just wanted you to resist and do more. So you vehemently shook your head, “No, I've got it!" Your voice was strained and several pitches too high to sound natural.
“It's fine, I can do it.” How dare he have the gall to sound annoyed with you.
“I've got it Finnick, just go to bed!" Or whatever the fuck else is he does to be away from you. You regretted how snappy you were, he wanted someone easy going, not how uptight you were being. But god, hate that man for how he looked like a wounded puppy dog. “Sorry." You muttered, only partially genuine. Harshly grabbing a glass to clean, hands gripping around it, so harshly it seemed that when you went to put it to dry, it shattered in your hand. Your reaction was delayed as you stood there in disbelief, you hated your life, “Fuck.”
Then his hand was on your back and you involuntarily jerked at the contact you hadn't felt for so long. “You're bleeding." How the hell was his voice still so stony, a mystery you'd never know the answer too. It sent tingles up your spine the way his hand was on your back, you missed his touch. He led you to the bathroom where he carefully tended to the cuts in your hand. Carefully taking out the pieces of glass and although you occasionally winced, it was like your brain couldn't comprehend the pain over the buzzing about his hand touching yours. But once he bandaged it up the touch was gone and so was he with a, “I'll clean up."
Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him, fuck him. But you hated being angry with him when he was probably going through something, he'd struggled so much and just needed help. Was it really excusable though when it was tearing you apart to be in all of this. You got up and without a second thought walked straight out the front door. Feet guiding you to the comfort of the beach. Of course it invoked memories of all the better times spent with Finnick, but out here at least you had the ocean. It has started to rain and you didn't care. Walking out into the sea, as far as you could touch, and letting the freedom of the waves surround you. And you screamed, at the sky, at the waters, into the night. Trying so desperately to let go of the aggression, so you could keep trying. Inhaling the salt air before you walked back inside, you could do this. Every relationship had trials and tribulations, but you could be stronger, stick together.
As you were walking back, Finnick was jogging towards you, “Are you okay?" There was actual emotion in his voice, you longed to be privileged to it more often.
“Yeah."
“I thought I… " He trailed off, hand running through his hair. The way he looked like he might cry sparked guilt in you, but also a sick pleasure that he actually cared. “You're gonna get sick." Just as quickly his tone returned to being straight-laced.
You didn't care, if you were sick maybe he would take care of you. So you walked inside and he said nothing. You showered and changed, you'd gotten a new nightgown that left little to the imagination. Maybe you could get a rise out of him, get him to touch you more. But he seemed to be fast asleep by the time you left the bathroom, so you slipped into bed beside him. In the past he'd always sleep with his arms around you, but now you slept beside each other rather than with one another. It left you cold, despite the blankets, which were barely there as he'd always been a blanket hog, which you used to tease him for, but was fine because you were attached to him. Now you laid there and felt yourself crying. You cursed yourself for it, not right now, but you couldn't stop. So you covered your mouth with a hand as you sobbed into it.
The next morning you felt him wake, but there was no energy to make breakfast. You were exhausted and it hadn't made him love you again anyways. So you drifted back off until the sound of floorboards creaking when he returned woke you up. You sat up in bed as he entered the bedroom. “Morning, Finn." The smile you worked hard to maintain was back.
“Morning." He mumbled and then his eyes faltered on you. That's when you remembered the nightgown, it was a relief for something to keep his eyes on you. ‘Love me, even if it's just for my body, love me in some way.’ Your brain begged to no avail. “Shower." He slowly said even though he'd very obviously grown hard.
You felt humiliated, completely embarrassed to be dressed the way you were and him to still not want you. It made you want to cry again, but you had to persist. Rising to get dressed until you heard your name. It took you a second to process that he was moaning it, you were right there and he was getting himself off to the thought of you when he could've just had the actual you. That had to be a new type of low. You hadn't even dared to touch yourself no matter how badly you wanted him because you knew nothing you did could match the things he'd made you feel. Yet here he was, so easily jerking off. There was nothing you could do except seethe as you got ready for your day. At least it was your name and not some other girls.
You were in the kitchen when he walked downstairs, “Going to the market." He announced and you got up from your chair.
“I'm coming too." It wasn't a question.
"No, it's okay. I've just got a couple things to grab.”
"So do I, so I'll just come along to grab them. You don't even have to stick by me, I'm just going.” You were exasperated. Honestly you hadn't left the confines of Victors Village for a while, besides when you tried to recall your look, and this would be a good opportunity to see if he was being honest. There was nothing you really had to get, but at least you'd somewhat had his company.
He said nothing but waited as you put on your sandals and then the two of you set off. The silence was deafening as you two walked, your Finnick would always hold your hand, would've taken you from booth to booth and ramble on endlessly, buy anything you glanced at with interest, but now he stood too far away for your hands to even brush by each other. The bustling of the market was a relief and for the first time in a long time you naturally smiled. Although it was jarring how quickly Finnick put on a smile, made conversation with all these people when he hadn't blessed you with the same thing. In fact, it instantly dampened your mood.
“Haven't seen you in so long, missed seeing that pretty smile!" All your favorite vendors gushed and you'd smile, make small talk. Even if everything made you think of Finnick. When was the last time he'd called you pretty? When was the last time he kissed you?
“You look a little sad, are you alright?" And you'd insist you were just feeling a little under the weather. You'd somewhat kept your distance from Finnick until you saw him laughing with a girl in the market. When was the last time he'd laughed with you? Is this what he did, found pretty girls in the market, charmed them, and went back home with them?
You'd slowly approached and showed fake interest in one of her necklaces. “They're real pearls." She said. She was so pretty, stunning. What did she have that you didn't? You hummed, smiling and without a word, Finnick was handing you money.
‘I don't want your money, I want you to pay attention to me.’ You thought and shook your head, “I don't need your money, Finn." The only thing you'd want from him was something he'd pick out because he wanted to give it to you, something he'd always done if you hadn't been there with him. Showing up at home with little treasures to show off to you. He looked at you quizzically, it wasn't like you had any money of your own on you.
“Is this your girlfriend?" The woman asked, her voice was sweet like sugar, you were too gruff, that's what you were missing.
Right now though, your voice was breathy, anxious. “Yeah." The woman must have been able to sense something off because she looked at you with pity. Finnick left the money on the counter by you regardless of what you said and walked off. You sighed.
“I'm sorry, I didn't know."
You gave a sad smile, “It's okay, not your fault." You picked the money up, ready to go find him.
“He's just a guy, even if he's Finnick Odair, don't let him dim your spark." It should've been encouraging, except you knew you loved him too much to ever leave him.
You found him, chatting and smiling as he bought produce. You missed his smile. “Here." You said quietly, handing him his money.
“Where's the necklace?"
“Didn't need it." You didn't care about needing it, you care that he would rather have you buy things for yourself then make you feel valued.
He huffed, like you were frustrating him, annoying him. “Okay, use it to find something else then. You said you weren't going to stick around me." You couldn't stop yourself from physically recoiling from his venom.
“I just came to tell you I was going home." You said weakly, staring at the ground. “Have fun." Your voice cracked slightly and you didn't even bother looking up as you walked home. Immediately settling yourself into bed where you refused to move. Eventually he came home, something clicked onto the dresser table, the sun went down and you stayed put. When he crawled into bed the most movement you made was flipping onto your side to have the protection of your back facing him.
For days it was a cycle of laying in bed, only rising once he left, usually to stand under the burning hot water in the shower until your skin felt raw. Then immediately returning back to bed. He'd return, put something on the dresser, and you'd stay still. Eventually one night he'd come home and sat at your feet, mattress dipping. “We need to talk."
Your hands clamped over your ears, this was it, he was done with you, all that effort for nothing. The anxiety knotted in your stomach, “I'm gonna be sick." You forced yourself up and found yourself throwing up in the toilet, Finnick holding your hair back.
“Hey, it's okay. It's okay, sweet girl." When you were done you said nothing as you brushed your teeth, praying he would leave and forget whatever bad news he was surely bearing. But he didn't, he waited and sat on the bed, waiting for you. Who exited, arms crossed, trying not to cry.
“Please don't break up with me." It was pathetic to beg for but he stood up, looking bewildered.
“No, no, no, I'm not gonna break up with you, sweet girl. I wouldn't even think of it." His hands cradled your face and you melted into them.
Finally you let the tears fall, "Then what are we talking about?”
"I've been so terrible to you, a terrible partner, a terrible person. I…” He took a deep breath in, "I had a rough time in the Capitol, I always do, especially last time though. And I knew you would be able to tell and try to help, but it was easier for me to just block you out so I didn't have to deal with it. Because it hurts to think about." He was crying and it made your heart ache. "And I took you for granted. I didn't try to be there for you, I was selfish and I can't make up for it enough. I will spend the rest of my life making up for it.”
You were both sobbing and he pressed his forehead to yours. His hands were so warm, his touch was so perfect. "I want to help you.”
"I know.” He pulled his forehead away, putting his hands on your shoulders. "I need you to tell me how you felt. Not the sweet way you usually explain things, be honest, so honest.
You shook your head, “No, it's okay. It was just miscommunication."
“No, I think I nearly broke you and everybody else noticed before I did. I need to know your raw feelings, so I can attempt to make it up to you.” He let go of your shoulders and sat down on the edge of the bed.
"I thought you were cheating on me.” You said quietly, anxiously playing with your fingers. He already looked hurt, "Like you found someone else because I wasn't, I don't know, fun enough, pretty enough, hardworking enough. And you didn't want me to do anything with you ever or notice anything I did for you." You took a deep breath, you could feel yourself getting angrily worked up and he could tell.
“If you're angry, be angry." He said and you obeyed.
“And I bought new clothes for you, changed my makeup routine, smiled more, made all your favorites, woke up earlier, tried to take on burdens and you said nothing. Do you know how lonely I was? How bad that made me feel about myself? One day you weren't letting me lift a finger, telling me you loved me, now pretty I was, and the next I thought I'd never hear any of that again, let alone have you touch me. No kisses, or hugs, you didn't even hold me when we slept! And you were so closed off and sometimes mean on top of that and all I wanted was your attention. Until finally I gave up because at least even if you weren't really with me, I still had you, and I didn't want you to leave me just because I found out there was someone else, which is so fucked. And then I thought, maybe at the very least, he’ll have me for my body, I had new lingerie, I tried and you didn't give a fuck. No, you got yourself off in the goddamn bathroom and I was right here!” Your voice had risen and your inhales were sharp between the ranting, "And everytime I hated what you were doing to me, I'd feel bad because what you've been through is so much worse and I should still try to be there for you. So I tried and then you'd be annoyed with me and it was like torture. And I swear to god, if you ever do that again, I'll leave.” A weight lifted off of your chest and he hugged you.
“I'm so sorry, I won't ever do it again, I love you so much, you're so pretty and kind and I need you in my life." You held onto him like he would slip away, kissing away your tears that were falling even though he was also crying. He held you until the sobbing had mostly subsided, “You know I bought you all these stupid gifts when you were laying there, thinking it would make you feel better, but I don't even think you noticed." He chuckled and you turned your head, not wanting to tear away from him. All you could see was the necklace from where you were standing. “Not that it would've done anything after all the time I spent letting the castle crumble around us.
"Thank you.” It was muttered and then he tried to pull out of the hug which made you whine. Trying to cling on forever.
His hand tilted your chin towards him, “You wanna put one of those sets on that you got for me so I can show you how pretty you are and how sorry I am for neglecting my sweet girl?"
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
sorry y'all angst is my default settings. thank you for reading, comments, likes, reblogs, feedbacks is all super appreciated. asks and requests are open, love you all, sorry again 💋
taglist: @wowzabowza69
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