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imsogonesposts · 23 hours ago

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My Hero

|| ao3 || Finnick Odair masterlist || an: this kinda hurt to write ngl 😭 || requests are open !! ||

summary: Finnick Odair was known for playing hero. That’s why he was always saving you, both metaphorically, and physically. (5 times Finnick saves you, and one time you can’t save him) (wc: 4080)

warning: nightmares, canon typical violence, mention of blood, no happy ending, i think thats all

You tried to calm your rapidly beating heart and your too-loud breaths as you woke up. You had had a nightmare, reliving the events of your Hunger Games from years ago. Except, somehow the memories were worse. Distorted to make what truly happened on those never-ending days into something more violent, more gory.

You tried to ease yourself, not wanting to wake up the boy next to you, but the thing about Finnick Odair, was that he always seemed to know when something was wrong with you- even when he was asleep, it seemed.

He turned in bed as you covered your mouth, attempting to stifle your heavy breathing. He wrapped an arm around your waist, lightly rubbing your side as he quietly, asked “you okay?”

You stayed silent, trying to pretend you were asleep, but even half asleep, Finnick could tell that something was wrong.

He softly whispered your name before repeating his earlier question, “are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you quietly replied as he sat up, using his arm to support his weight as he looked over you.

He softly repeated your name again as you turned over to look at him. You imagined your eyes were stained red from crying, your hair was probably a mess too, but Finnick didn’t seem to mind.

“Hey, what happened?” He asked a finger lightly tracing your arm. It was a comforting gesture, and right now, it was one of the only things helping to ground you.

You’re not back in the arena, you’re home, in bed, with Finnick. The dream wasn’t real, this is.

“Bad dream,” you whisper as he frowns.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks as you shrug.

“I was back in the arena,” you quietly reply. “But everything seemed worse. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Finnick instantly shakes his head no. “Don’t be sorry, I don’t mind. You know that,” he whispers, moving his hand from your arm to lightly cup your face, thumb lightly rubbing your cheek. “I never mind, I just like taking care of you,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” He asks as you shrug.

“Hold me?” You quietly ask as he nods.

Finnick lowered himself to the bed as he pulled you atop him, your head on his chest, right over his beating heart. It was a calming sound, it always was, and his hand tracing up and down your back only added to the comfort he was trying to bring you.

“I’d hold you forever if you wanted me to,” Finnick whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he continues to trace your spine with one hand, the other moving to play with your hair.

The TV was playing in the living room, but neither you nor Finnick were paying any attention to it. You were reading as Finnick laid in your lap, asleep, as Caesar Flickerman showed the citizens of the Capitol Katniss Everdeen’s wedding dress options. You prayed that when you and Finnick eventually got married, your wedding wouldn’t be nearly as publicized as the “star-crossed lovers of District 12’s” were. It would be nice to have something for yourselves for once.

“That’s right, this year will be the seventy-fifth anniversary of the Hunger Games and that means it’s time for our third Quarter Quell,” Caesar suddenly announced, pulling your attention away from your book, and onto the screen. Neither you nor Finnick were old enough to have witnessed a Quarter Quell before, but you had heard stories. Namely, what notto do- the stories of Haymitch Abernathy’s games and the consequences of his win had been told frequently as a cautionary tale, warning to not do anything too extreme to win your games, so long as you wanted your loved ones to live to see another day.

You watched as President Snow made his way across the stage, a boy dressed in white closely following behind him.

You knew that a Quarter Quell most likely meant more work for you and Finnick as victors, you knew that you wouldn’thave liked whatever cruel Quarter Quell idea the original game makers had come up with seventy-five years ago, but nothing could have prepared you for the words that left the president’s mouth.

“On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors.”

You felt your blood turn cold as you looked at the sleeping figure atop you. Chances were, you and Finnick would be going into the arena again. Chances were, you would be going in together. And chances were, they wouldn’t let two tributes out of the arena again.

“Finnick,” you whisper, lightly shaking his shoulder to wake him up. He smiled as he opened his eyes to be met with your face. You hated how quickly his smile dropped when he saw the look of concern etched across your own face.

“Hey, hey, are you okay? What’s wrong?” He asks, sitting up as he turns his body to face yours, his hands almost automatically reaching for yours.

“They announced what would be happening for the next Quarter Quell,” you whispered, avoiding his gaze as you focused on the chipping paint on the wall beside the couch. Finnick had kept putting off repainting it, and now, who knew if you would ever get to see it fixed.

He squeezed your hands as he noticed your refusal to meet his gaze. “That bad?” He jokes, panic instantly filling his body as he watched your eyes begin to water. “Hey, hey, don’t cry,” he whispered, gently taking your face in between in hands as he began wiping the tears of your face with his thumbs. “We’ll get through whatever it is, I promise.”

He was so sweet you could cry even more. You really didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news, but you had to tell him at some point.

“Finnick,” you start.

“Yeah?”

“For the Quarter Quell,” you sniffle, “they’re gonna put two past victors back into the game.” You pause as you watch him think over your words. “They could send us back in,” you whisper, watching as his eyes narrow and shoulders gotense.

“What?” He questions as you nod.

“I don’t want to go back,” you whisper. “I don’t want you to go back.”

He didn’t want that either. He didn’t want either of you to ever have to step through that arena again, he wouldn’t wish such a cruel fate to his worst enemy.

“I’ll figure something out,” Finnick whispers, pulling you into a hug as you cry into his shoulder. “It’ll be okay,” he whispers, rubbing your back and pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “We’ll be okay.”

He wasn’t sure how true his words were, but as of right now, his main priority was calming you down and holding you, letting you cry it all out into his embrace.

The first thing you hear after sleeping in the arms of the man you love, is Katniss’s voice yelling “Run!” You could feel Finnick instantly tensing up, sitting up as if ready to fight an enemy, only to be met with a wall of fog.

While it was obvious that neither you nor Finnick knew why you had to run from something as harmless as fog, Finnick still began pulling you up, pushing you ahead of him as the two of you ran away from the fog with Katniss and Peeta in tow.

“What is it?” You heard Peeta ask.

“Some kind of fog. Poisonous gas,” Katniss replied as you all continued running.

You could feel the fog slowly catching up to you all as you began to feel a burning sensation in your body. It was on your arms, your legs, too many places for comfort. All the while, Finnick was yelling at the three of you to “keep moving.”

You had wanted to listen to him, you truly did, but slowly it began to feel as if the burning was doing much worse than causing some pain. It was targeting your nerves, making it close to impossible to run without stumbling and twitching.You had wanted to stop for a break, but Finnick had pushed you forward as he ran back towards Katniss and Peeta to help them, as Peeta could barely move due to his earlier injuries.

You could barely feel anything but pain and worry as you fell down a hill, a few feet away from a body of water. Pain from the fog, and worry that Finnick might not have made it out of the fog, that he might have fallen there, and that you may have lost him forever.

You wanted to thank every star in the night sky when you, weakly, lifted your head up to see Finnick, Katniss, and Peeta roll down the hill. All injured, but all alive.

“Sweetheart?” Finnick, weakly, called out, lifting his head as much as he could to look for you.

“I’m okay,” you replied.

He let out a slight nod before laying his head down again, mumbling out a small “good.”

You kept your gaze on him, watching as Katniss and Peeta carried him to the water. You would have been worried by the sounds of anguish coming from him if it weren’t obvious that the water helped with the poisonous gas, otherwise Katniss and Peeta wouldn’t be able to move as much as they were.

“Hi, baby,” you hear after a few minutes, looking up to be met with Finnick’s warm smile. “I’m gonna take you to water and help fix you up, alright?”

You weakly nod as he picks you up, carrying you to the water as he gently placed you in the water, waiting as you returned to your normal look.

“Better?” He asked as you nodded.

“Are you okay?” You asked, eyes going over his body looking for any signs of injury. “You definitely got the worst of it.”

Finnick shrugged with a smile as he tilted your chin to look up at him. “I’m okay because you’re okay,” he whispered before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You had been talking with Johanna when you had noticed Katniss running through the forest like a woman gone mad yelling one word, one name, over and over again. “Prim.”

You ran after her, finally catching up to her as you watched her shoot a bird down, her shoulders still slightly tense.

“Katniss?” You whisper, so as to not startle the girl. “Are you alright?”

She nods at you, taking the arrow out of the bird as she wipes it clean. “I’m okay,” she replied. “I thought I heard my sister, but-“

A loud scream cuts her off. A scream that sounds like a voice you know all too well.

“Finnick?” You yell, running into the forest, Katniss quickly following behind you. Finnick had been talking with Wirus, Beetee, and Peeta when you left. Had he gone chasing after you and ended up in danger? Did another past victor find him? One that wasn’t in the alliance? Was he okay?

The screaming seemed to grow louder as you kept yelling out for him, and yet you couldn’t find him. It wasn’t until a bird fell on your feet that the screaming stopped.

Oh, it wasn’t really him. And thank god for that.

“It’s a jabber jay,” Katniss explains, “Finnick’s probably still okay, the Capitol’s just playing a trick on us. It’s not real.”

You pick up the bird with a shaky hand as you nod. Her reasoning made sense, it all made sense, you just had to calm yourself.

Finnick was okay. He was okay, and you would both escape the arena together. Safe and sound.

You nodded once more as another scream filled the forest. A deeper voice calling out for Katniss’s help.

“Katniss, we have to go,” you tell her, pulling on her arm as you try to drag her away from the screaming jabber jays that began following the two of you. And with that, Finnick screaming for your help again.

It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real.

As you half drag, Katniss away from the birds, you finally catch sight of Johanna, Finnick, and Peeta waving at the two of you. Thank god he was okay. Finnick was shaking his head “no,” making an X symbol with his hands, Peeta and Johanna yelling at the two of you, though no words leaving their mouths. Strange, yes, but right now you just wanted to be held in Finnick’s arms as he assured you he was okay.

Katniss and you ran closer to them until you both suddenly ran into a wall, so transparent you couldn’t even see it. You both landed on the floor, looking up to see Finnick’s hand placed on the clear wall, mouthing the question “Are you okay?” You nodded “yes” even though your body ached from the impact of the wall. Johanna began hitting the wall with her ax, but it was obvious her attempts did little to damage it. You were stuck. At least until the hour was up.

“Are you okay?” You ask, suddenly remembering the girl you were supposed to protect. Katniss nodded as she sat up, moving to closer face Peeta.

You give Finnick a knowing smile, silently telling him, “see? I told you they were real.”

He only rolled his eyes in response, the hint of a smile tugging on his face before he winked at you. You swore you could get lost in his eyes.

That was, until, the jabber jays found Katniss and you. Slowly, one by one, they began sitting on nearby branches and rocks, before opening their mouths, screams pilling out. Some yelling for Katniss, some for you. You heard the voices of all that you loved: Finnick, your parents, your friends back home.

You watch Katniss attempt to shoot the birds down, but you knew it was pointless. The game makers probably had anendless amount of jabber jays at their disposal. You wished you could help, but every second the voices seemed to onlygrow louder and louder. You covered your ears, closing your eyes, in hopes of blocking them out, yet that barely did anything.

It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real.

Finally, the hour passed, and Finnick kneeled beside you, rubbing your back to let you know he was there.

“Hey, beautiful,” he whispers as you uncover your ears, finally opening your eyes to be met with his comforting green ones.

“You’re okay?” You quietly ask.

He nods. “I’m okay,” he tells you, hand still rubbing your back. “Are you okay?” He knows you’re probably not okay, he can see it in the way breathing, in the fear in your eyes, in the slight shaking of your body, but he wants to take things slow, he wants to help calm you down.

You shrug at his question. “There were jabber jays,” you told him. “They sounded like you screaming, I thought something happened to you.”

He can feel part of his heartbreak at that as he slowly pulls you into a hug. “Oh, baby,” he whispers, kissing the top ofyour head. “I’m okay, I’m right here,” he begins rubbing your back again as you move your face into the crook of his neck.

“I heard my parent too, Finnick,” you mumble against his neck. “And my friends back home…it was horrible.”

Finnick wished nothing more than the ability to take the pain away from you. To have been in your place instead so you wouldn’t have to go through such a thing. Or better yet, kill President Snow for ever helping with these games and foreverything he has ever put the two of you through.

“They’re safe back home, sweetheart,” he whispers, kissing the side of your head. “They always interview the family, I promise you your family is safe at home right now, okay?”

You nod against him, letting his warm embrace calm you.

“Good morning,” you say, lightly shaking Finnick away from his nap.

He only groans in response, mumbling something that sounded like “let me sleep.”

You brush hair off his forehead with a laugh before whispering, “I’m sorry, but I need your help with something.”

This time, he peeks an eye open, finally meeting your gaze. “Is everything alright?” He asks through a yawn, one of his hands moving to rub up and down your arm.

You nod in response before replying, “there’s a spider in the corner of our room, can you get it out?”

Finnick can’t help but laugh, sitting up and taking in the small room you and Finnick have grown to call your own in District 13. It wasn’t much, you only had a nightstand, a bed barely big enough to fit the both of you, and a small shaky desk, but it was enough. You were safe with him, you were both out of the arena, away from President Snow, you were both married now, and that was more than enough for him.

“You mean to tell me you won your Hunger Games, and you can’t manage to kill a spider?” Finnick asks with a laugh, wrapping an arm around your shoulder before pulling you in to press a kiss to the side of your head.

“It’s not funny,” you grumble, leaning into his touch as he laughs again.

“You’re right,” he mumbles, pressing another kiss to the side of your head before getting off the bed, “it’s hilarious.”

“It’s near the desk,” you inform him as he nods, ripping a blank page out of the notebook that sat on the desk, picking up a discarded cup, placing the cup over the spider, and sliding the paper under the cup.

“Can you get the door, sweetheart?” He requests as you get up with a nod.

He kisses your cheek as you hold the door open for him. “It feels like you’re always saving me,” you joke as he laughs with a nod.

“I happen to like saving you,” he easily replies. “I can be your knight in shining armor,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and walking out of the room to discard of the spider. “And it makes me feel useful,” he calls out before you close the door with a laugh.

It was a strange thing. One moment, you were holding hands with Finnick, him making jokes to ease your ever-growing nerves, you laughing along as if his attempts were working. Finnick wasn’t stupid, though, he knew his attempts to calm you weren’t working, but no matter how much he tried to convince you, you insisted that you had a strange feeling in your stomach. A bad feeling that something wasn’t going to work out right today.

One moment, he was swinging your joint hands back and forth, the next the two of you and the rebels were running from the mutts chasing you all. The mutts who stood tall like humans, chasing you with their almost reptilian-like tails, their hollow dark eyes, and their razor-sharp teeth. You could still feel Finnick’s hand in yours as you ran to the main sewer.

If you were a more selfish person, a smarter person, you would have found a way to stay back at District 13, and with that, find a way to convince Finnick to stay with you. Say something like you wanted to have as close to a honeymoon with him as you could back in District 13. Back in your almost too-small-to-move room, back in your slightly worn-out bed. Back home, safe. Without having to see so many people who were part of the rebel group die such a cruel death. Nothing about this was fair. Not one bit.

You would close your eyes, will all of this away to be just another bad dream as you wake up safe in Finnick’s warm arms again, but every time you close your eyes, you were reminded of those who lost their lives due to the rebellion. The rebellion that you wished more than anything would just end already. Boggs, Jackson, Leeg One.

You feel something, someone, push you towards a ladder as the smell of blood, and roses, and death fills your nostrils.

“Climb,” you hear Finnick instruct as you nod your head.

“Finnick-“

“Climb,” he repeated, his tone more stern. “I’ll be right behind you, I promise,” he says, pressing a quick, haste kiss to your lips as he pushes you towards the ladder again. “I’ll be there soon, baby,” he tells you, turning around to fight off more of the mutts with the trident Beetee had recently crafted for him. You barely register your hands pulling you up the ladder, nor the bottom of your shoes pressing against the ladder as you make your way up.

One second, Finnick’s lips are on yours, the next, you're atop a platform, watching the rest of the rebels climb their way up, save for one.

“Where’s Finnick?” You ask before you hear the sound of screaming. The sound of his screaming.

It was like you were in the area again, back with the jabber jays taunting you and Katniss with the screams of those that you loved. Only this time, it wasn’t a distorted audio. This time it was real.

“Finnick!” You yell, making your way back to the ladder. You had to help him, you had to save him. He’s done the same for you countless times. You had to help him, you had to-.

A pair of strong arms pull you back, holding you tight so you wouldn't be able to escape. You thrashed against the person, Finnick’s screams of pain only further motivating your escape as the person, Gale, tells you, “No, he’s not coming back up.”

You didn’t want to believe him. Right now, your heart was overpowering any rational thought as you tried to escape from Gale’s hold. You had to try, you couldn’t let Finnick die. Not like this. Not with so much pain. Not in the water. It may not be the ocean water that he loved so much, but it was water nonetheless. He can’t die, he couldn’t, but especially not in the place he had always considered to be like a second home to him. In the place that would help calm all his racing thoughts, the water which he had practically grown up in. It wasn’t fair, nothing about any of this was. It wasn’t fair that either of you had to enter the Hunger Games at such a young age, that either of you had to go through those horrid games again years later. It wasn’t fair what the Capitol put Finnick through, it wasn’t fair that now he was so far out of reach.

You watch Katniss take out the Holo from her belt, whispering the word “nightlock” three times before releasing it to the sewer. To the mutts. To Finnick.

“Katniss no,” you choke out through a sob, but the explosion had already happened before you could finish your plea. That’s when Gale finally releases you, letting you sink to your knees, as your sobs overtake you.

“We can’t stay here,” Katniss suddenly says. You feel Cressida come to your side, rubbing a hand up and down your back to soothe you. The same way Finnick used to.

That’s when it hits you: you’d never get to feel his touch again. Never wake up in his arms, hear his voice, have him next to you as you both drift off to sleep, you'd never get to tell him you loved him again. You didn’t even get to say it againbefore climbing up the ladder.

You barely register Katniss and Peeta’s argument as Cressida helps you up, leading you to god knows where. You were only half there mentally, though you doubted anyone could truly blame you.

Finnick was gone. The weird feeling you had in your stomach was right, and in the most cruelest way possible too.

“I didn’t even get to say bye,” you croak out through a sob as Cressida continues rubbing her hand up and down your back. Though, it would never bring the same comfort that Finnick’s actions used to.

#my fics!!#Finnick Odair x reader #finnick odair #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair angst #finnick odair fic #finnick odair x you #finnick Odair x reader angst #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair x yn #finnick odair x y/n #the hunger games fic #hunger games fic #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair x reader fluff

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todayisafridaynight · 1 year ago

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That fuckin new bucket list trailer for 8?????????

hey what if we all just cut ourselves in half after this huh

#snap chats #OH MY GOD WIFE DATE REAL ????#'the first time i pay my respects' and it just so happens yall show up together...... just tell me theyre married already..#sorry guys im delulu about the marital status of date and kiryu like.... wife...#bUT MORE IMPORTANTLY SURVIVE REUNION SCENE REAAAAAL WHAT IF WE ALL KILLED OURSELVES #i love how akiyama.#its genuinely so funny how this whole time everyone @ akiyama like 'kiryus dead you have to move on'#and he Rightfully So is just Nuh Uh <3 like can someone tell my guy he was right #I Repeat absolutely no one who knows kiryu ever believed he was really dead cmon now..#OK BUT WAIT SPEAKING OF BEING DELULU POCKET CIRCUIT FIGHTER PLOT SIGNIFICANCE REAL ? MAYBE ?#idc im just glad..... photo....... i also think kiryu and PCF are married btw #lovers in another timeline... if fate didnt pull them apart theyd be forever <- if kiryu committed to stop being apart of the yakuza #LET ME SEE GRANDPA PCF NEOW #sorry this was the cutest trailer. and by Cutest Trailer im going to fucking throw up WAHHH #i cant ignore the fact i had to listen to goofy's eng va deliver the fuckin uhhhhh what the word NARRATION. YEAH.#there's a kingdom hearts joke here so imagine i made it but anyway. thank you for drawing this to my attention #im going to go eat shit and die

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silverselfshippingchaos · 2 years ago

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hmmmm ok me next-

#i miss him so much akdjakdj he's the only f/o i'm married to. he is husband :)#despite what it may seem like- he's a really sweet guy #he's so caring and kind and he makes me feel so soft #so safe too #he cares so much about his friends that it's adorable #and he can be such a dork sometimes- but he's so strong too!! he's always looking to help people and has a beautiful heart #also he's really handsome- ahem-#and damn does he look good with a ring on his finger!#i could go on about this dude forever- i adore him so much #ash rambles 💚#also he's warm and gives the best cuddles and hugs #that huge jacket of his? the stupid hat?#MY jacket and hat now‼️‼️#wife privileges are really just stealing his clothes LMAO #anyways gn y'all i hope it's been a good one #also i really love k.yohei if you couldnt tell 💀#also side note but i've been getting back into t.lou and yeah- zombie apocalypse au for these two is so real

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gibbearish · 1 year ago

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i will say also one thing ive noticed with the cake smash debate is by and large (and esp in wedding situations), women tend to hate it and men tend to be the ones who think its turbo hilarious and the women are being big whiny babies and can't take a joke. just food for thought

#esp bc for the wedding ones. its always the bride getting it done to them. yknow the one who spent the most on that days makeup and outfit #out of anyone there? and therefore already has the most to lose practically if say something like a cake were to ruin it?#and also is one of the two people that day is intended to celebrate? who wants to remember this day as a beautiful #happy occasion‚ not one where she got her dress ruined and had to miss part of her own reception to try to clean off?#that bride?#idk i just. physically cannot imagine how these ppls brains work #how do you genuinely prioritize 'smash cake in face funnie' over Getting To Marry The Person You Claim To Love #or just traditions in general i cannot wrap my brain around those #like doing them i can get its fun to have silly little human rituals. but when you start to prioritize those rituals over #the comfort of other people who dont want to participate in it thats where you lose me. we get to 'they dont want to do it' and #i immediately go 'ok so dont make them. problem solved'#'but weve been doing it for years' ok and? skip a year youll live #its a ritual you do for fun not necessity #like this is a nonissue. where is the problem. it doesnt have to be done and it makes them uncomfortable.#so how the FUCK do people keep insisting that they do have to do it!!!#like literally no they dont! they just dont like this isnt a debate youre just straight up wrong!!#if the only negative consequence to not doing a thing that makes someone uncomfortable is 'ill be a little bit sad #about not getting to do it' genuinely from the bottom of my heart shut the fuck up forever and deal with it #that is not a real consequence. that is the minorest of inconveniences.#hm correction to earlier tag idk why i put 'skip a year' what i meant was 'do it without them'

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temporarytemporal · 1 year ago

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cling to me

I know I said I was going to distance myself from this piece of media because of all of its terrible connections, but these two characters seem to have taken root in a permanent place in my heart, and I can't let them go.

Anyway, here's some character design notes below the cut for the one person out there who's obsessed with these characters as much as me.

Early DSMP: the era of childhood innocence

Bandanas: They sport each other’s bandana’s (they’re hidden in the design for every era). I love character designs with complementary colors (and I love how red and green are also cranboo’s colors)

Disks: Early on, cat and mellohi represent the peaceful moments ctommy shared with his favorite people, but they went on to be a symbol of victory and independence from the people who have hurt him.

Flowers: Ctubbo collects flowers and tries to memorize the meanings and symbolism tied to each type of flower. He also collects them for his bees.

L’manberg: the era where children became soldiers

Horns: Ctubbo’s horns start to grow in here.

Pogtopia: the era of an exile and a secretary of state / spy

You can tell I joined the fandom at the end of this era because I don’t have many notes here or for the l’manberg era.

Exile: the era of an exile once again and and a president too young

Hair: Ctommy’s hair starts to grow longer as he neglects taking care of himself.

Clothes: Ctommy’s clothes are tattered; one shoe is destroyed and he took to wearing cw-lbur’s (f-ck ccw-lbur btw!!) trench coat.

Bandages: Ctubbo’s wrapped in bandages from his recently earned firework burns. He’s gone blind in his right eye, and he’s missing the ring and pinkie finger on his right hand.

Compasses: They share their matching ‘your tommy’ and ‘your tubbo’ compasses

Hog Hunt: the era where one sought to kill the blood god while the other sought refuge there

Stolen goods: Ctommy’s has his antarctic empire outfit plus all the goods he stole from ctechno like the turtle helmet, golden apples, and the axe of peace.

Bedrock: Ctommy wears his counterpart piece matching techno’s from his ear.

Prosthetic: Ctommy’s right foot had to be amputated after he loses it to frostbite in the trek to cemeraldduo’s cabin. Ctechno gives him a simple prosthetic.

Disc Finale: the era of mended relationships and a final stand

Headband: Ctommy begins to wear a devil headband to fit in more, as he’s one of the few humans on the server. The devil horns were chosen to resemble ceryn’s real ones.

Patchwork: Ctommy learns to sew, and he fixes his tattered clothes from exile.

Post Revival:

Devil horns: Ctommy’s devil horns (plus a tail) become real after revival, and he gets a white streak in his hair.

Prime cross: The bad things that have happened to them both that they survived strengthen ctommy’s faith in prime, whereas they weaken ctubbo’s faith.

Sweater: Ctommy makes himself a sweater from friend’s wool.

Mechanical inventions: Ctubbo pursues his passion for engineering more as he makes mechanical bee drones and studies nuclear physics. He also makes himself prosthetic fingers, and he upgrades ctommy’s prosthetic foot.

Marriage ring: Ctubbo marries cranboo platonically and wears the ring on his horn. He also founds snowchester so he can have a place to protect his loved ones and raise his son. He grows out his hair to avoid eye contact for cranboo and to cover his scars.

Body type: Ctubbo gets chubbier and gains some muscle as he gets a bit happier in life.

Post DSMP:

The prison break and everything after it never happened. These are my OCs, and I make the rules because every actor/writer who played a part in their creation either abandoned them or turned out to be a terrible person. Cbenchtrio live happily ever after and begin their journey of healing while cdream rots in prison forever.

#dsmp #ctommy #ctubbo #tempo art

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okwonyo · 2 months ago

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⠀ LOVE BETWEEN ⠀⟡ ⠀HUSBAND!JAKE

ii 𓈒 ❛❛⠀엔하이픈, ─────⠀제이크ㅤ ⠀❜❜ 5OO fluff non-idol au & skinship crying ࿁ ⠀ fem!rea.

지아 ⠀⦂ ⠀i saw this in a vision 💌

reblogs (≧ᗜ≦) &feedbacks ╱ click

husband!jake who has always dreamt of finding his person at a young age, of marrying as soon as he could and spending the rest of his life with his lover.

husband!jake who never dates anyone because he knew he would date to marry.

husband!jake who knew exactly it was you, when his gaze landed on you.

husband!jake who asked you out on a spring day. who proposed to you on the same day two years later.

⠀ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ﹙ᵕ ᵕ⠀look under the cut ! ♡

husband!jake who did everything in his power to make the day he says ‘yes’ to you be on the same day a year later.

husband!jake who cried when he saw you walking down the aisle in your beautiful dress.

husband!jake who, with a shaky voice and tears streaming down his face, vowed to forever cherish and take care of you. to be yours forever, no matter what happens.

husband!jake who likes to run his left hand over his torso to feel his ring roll around his finger.

husband!jake who likes to, whenever you are together, to play with your wedding ring as you talk to him— or anyone.

husband!jake who reminds you that you weren’t the ‘marrying type either’ when you refuse to do something with him. such as having ketchup and mustard matching halloween costumes.

husband!jake who already called you his wife way before he proposed to you. now that it is real, he can’t stop talking about ‘my—beautiful, gorgeous, amazing—wife’.

husband!jake who never misses any anniversary because that day is the one that matters the most to him.

husband!jake who, when a bit tipsy, keeps asking you if the guy that is married to you knows how to fight.

husband!jake who puts his left hand up, showing of his wedding ring proudly whenever someone asks him how he is doing.

“i’ll be the happiest as long as i wear this ring,” husband!jake assures with a grin.

husband!jake who was already very clingy before and that got ten times worse since the wedding day.

husband!jake who uses the excuse ‘we are married!’ to justify his—and yours—constant display of affection.

husband!jake who needs your presence for everything. even if it’s just to do his own thing. and you need him everywhere with you as well.

husband!jake who is very good with kids. which makes your heart feel warm everytime you see how he acts with them.

husband!jake who loves lazy mornings and pillow talks until dawn.

husband!jake who keeps your picture in his wallet and set a selfie of yours as his wallpaper just to stare at it whenever he misses you.

husband!jake who, one day, decided to set pictures of your wedding all over your house's hallway. but, only pictures of the bride and only one with the groom.

husband!jake who looks at these pictures from time to time as if he was in a museum. with his chin between his index finger and thumb and all.

husband!jake who watches your wedding day’s videos on the television at one in the morning when he can’t sleep and misses you, as always when you are asleep.

husband!jake who works hard to give you the life you deserve and to spoil you as much as he can.

husband!jake who dreamed about having a wife like you his entire life and still can’t believe you are his.

ㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open

2K notes · View notes

wheeboo · 7 months ago

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for a moment, forever | choi seungcheol

SYNOPSIS. in which while shopping for wedding dresses for your best friend, you can't help but want to try one on too. PAIRING. choi seungcheol x gn!reader (ft. jihyo from twice as reader's engaged best friend) GENRE. fluff, established relationship WARNINGS. mild cursing, terms of endearment, reader wears a wedding dress, cheol doesn't show up until like halfway into the fic HAHAH WORD COUNT. 2.2k

notes: this is lowkey me describing my dream dress if i do somehow get married lmao so also self indulgent too ig, and it was fun searching up dresses! this also reminds me of that one scene from extraordinary attorney woo. if u know u know :') happy belated bday cheol <3

[02:39PM | y/n] should be done with jihyo's appointment in a few hours!! you can pick me up then bub❤️

[2:41PM | cheol 💕] Sounds good, my love. I'll see you then 😊

"Wait, oh my God, that one is beautiful!"

"Right?!" Jihyo exclaims eagerly before swiping to the next photo in her camera roll, on it displayed a gorgeous mermaid wedding dress that she had saved from Pinterest. "Okay, not sure if I like the mermaid ones but this was one was too pretty to not be saved."

"You can always ask to try one on too. I still think you'd rock whichever one you put on," You tell her, lacing an arm around hers as the two of you approach the bridal boutique that was just around the corner. "I still can't believe you're getting married."

When you and Jihyo exchange knowing glances with each other, squeals of excitement escape both of you. It feels surreal, almost like a dream knowing that your best friend is about to walk down the aisle and take her first steps into married life. Just ahead of the two of you, the bridal boutique gleams with soft lights and elegantly displayed gowns in the windows.

As you both step inside, the cozy warmth of the boutique wraps around you, and a subtle, lingering floral scent and delicate perfume fills the air. The interior is enchanting yet inviting, with a variety of dresses arranged by style. The boutique's consultant greets you both with a welcoming smile, and after a brief chat and a rundown of the different options, she leads you to a private area where Jihyo can begin her fitting.

You follow Jihyo as she naturally gravitates towards the gowns on display. You can tell she's already picturing herself in each dress. It's a bit overwhelming being surrounded by so many intricately designed dresses, like you've walked straight into a world of fairytale. Lace, satin, tulle𑁋every fabric imaginable seems to be represented here.

While helping Jihyo pick out some dresses, you can't lie that some have caught your eye more than you can admit. Knowing that one day these dresses will be worn by someone on of the most important days of your life fills you with awe. The thought makes your heart full, and briefly, you can't but help but imagine yourself walking down the aisle one day.

For a moment, your mind flickers to the thought of Seungcheol, and your heart does a jump.

One particular white tulle, floral embroidered dress with off-shoulder sleeves catches your attention. It's a perfect blend of elegance and romance. You let your hand run over the delicate embroidery, marvelling with admiration at the elaborate details caressed over every inch of it. The floral patterns are so finely crafted that they seem to bloom like real flowers right out of the fabric.

"Y/N, you need to try that on right now!"

You turn swiftly at the sound of Jihyo's commanding voice. "What? No, I can't𑁋"

"Come on, please!" Jihyo urges insistently while holding just about a dozen dresses in her hands. "It's so beautiful!"

"But this is for your special day, not𑁋"

"Honey, you and Seungcheol have been together for so long now, and sooner or later, you're going to have your special day too. Just try it on for fun, and I’d love to see how it looks on you!"

Okay, she really didn't have to bring up Seungcheol like that, but now you can't get it out of your head. An odd, fluttery feeling bursts in your stomach on top of the embarrassment crawling up your neck.

"Fine," You relent with a playful look. "But I'll do it after you try on all your dresses. Once again, today is for you, missy."

A wide grin spreads across her face as she shuffles towards the fitting room. "It's a deal!"

The next hour or so you spend lounging on the couch as Jihyo tries on dress after dress. Each one seems to bring out a different side of her: from elegant to dramatic, playful to sophisticated. You can’t help but laugh and cheer her on, snapping pictures and videos to capture every moment. You also help with various aspects of the fittings, from adjusting straps to even adding the veil on her head.

"You look like a princess!" You exclaim, clapping your hands as she twirls in a voluminous ball gown in front of the mirror.

"I feel like one!" Jihyo giggles, even doing a dramatic hair flip to add for an endearing touch.

The last one that she tries on is a mermaid dress with stunning lace detailing and a long, flowing train that spreads across the floor like ocean waves. As she steps out of the fitting room, the dress hugs her curves perfectly, and she looks every bit of a confident, radiant bride shining in her own element.

"Girl," You gasp out, voice full of awe. "that dress was made for you. You look absolutely stunning!"

Jihyo gazes at herself in the mirror. "Really?"

"Yes!" You claim, and you almost want to cry thinking about your best friend walking down the aisle. "I can so picture you walking down the aisle in this, holy shit."

Jihyo chuckles bashfully at your reaction.

"I'm going to be a bride," she says aloud, somewhat to herself and in a way announcing to the world too, before turning to you with a gleeful expression. "I'm going to be a bride!"

[04:45PM | cheol 💕] Are you done, sweetheart? I got to leave work earlier and just arrived at the place. Might come in since it's boiling outside 😅

"I really don't know about this𑁋"

"Come on, just try it on!" Jihyo nudges you ever so slightly to the fitting room, the dress trembling in your grasp. "This will be us doing some early preparations for your wedding, 'kay?"

Reluctantly, you find yourself stepping into the fitting room, the dress in your hands feeling both light and heavy at the same time. Taking a long, deep breath, you start to change into the dress as the consultant comes to your side to assist.

At first, the fabric feels odd against your skin, the delicate embroidery and soft tulle brushing against your shoulders as you put on the dress. The off-shoulder sleeves fit surprisingly snug when you slip them through your arms. The floral patterns seem to come alive right before your eyes, just like they had when you first saw the dress.

You take the first glance of yourself in the mirror in the fitting room, and it's almost as if you've been kicked in the gut and all the words had left you.

"Wow," You whisper to yourself, doing a small spin to see how the dress looks, and it feels absolutely magical to be the one wearing this dress right now.

Scrambling slightly, you look around your scattered belongings on the floor for your phone, knowing that you just have to capture this very moment before you would have to take the dress off.

But you can't find your phone anywhere.

"Crap, where did I put it?" You mumble annoyedly, having to move your dress around to get a better look, yet you still don't see it. Did you leave it outside? "Hey, Jihyo! If you're out there, can you pass me my phone?"

No response.

"Jihyo?"

Still no response.

Deflating your shoulders, you decide you might as well step outside to retrieve it.

"I didn't think the dress would fit this good. It's a bit heavier than I thought but I think I could manage𑁋"

And then you freeze, almost as if you were caught red-handed committing some sort of heinous crime, because Seungcheol is standing not that far away from you, eyes wide with disbelief and mouth dropped down to the floor at the sight of you wearing the wedding dress.

For a few moments, it's like the world stops as well, and you start to feel a little self-conscious under his gaze.

"Cheol? What are you..." Then you look down at yourself and the dress you were wearing. "You're here earlier than I-I thought, I should go change𑁋"

Seungcheol blinks back to reality from your words. "Wait, no, don't move, please."

He keeps his eyes locked on you, his gaze moving from your face, to the way the dress hugs and accentuates your figure in all the right ways, then back up again. You can practically see the gears turning in his head. You can't help but feel a blush creeping up your cheeks as you stand there, awkwardly holding the hem of the dress in your sweaty hands.

You can hear your heart pounding in your chest. This is not how you imagined seeing Seungcheol after Jihyo's appointment. You were expecting a casual, friendly greeting, maybe a quick kiss, and then a drive home. But this... this is different. You've been with Seungcheol for years, but he's staring at you like he's seeing you for the first time.

"Wow, I..." He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly before placing his hands in his pockets. "You're fucking breathtaking, honey."

Your cheeks burn brighter than ever, some sort of choked sound leaving you at his bluntness. You glance down at the dress, then back at Seungcheol.

"You... You think so?" You ask, voice timid and tainted with unsureness.

"Think so?" he repeats, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "I know so. I can't take my eyes off you."

A rush of heat climbs up your neck as you avert your eyes away, pretending to adjust the hem of the dress, fingers clumsily tugging at the material. The dress suddenly feels suffocatingly hot and you don't know how much more you can take.

His eyes still don't leave you even when he steps closer, the features of his face softening into simply an adoring look.

You could feel your feet melting into the ground below. "Cheol, I should really go change𑁋"

"Not yet," he says firmly, and you stay put. "Just let me look at you for a little longer, please?"

That familiar, pleading tone to his voice makes your heart run laps in your chest and causes your knees to feel like jelly. He takes a few more steps towards you, and before you know, he's standing right in front of you, half-lidded eyes flickering between yours and your lips. He takes a hand out of his pocket and reaches out to gently cup your face, letting a finger trace slowly over your cheek, leaning in just close enough to whisper in your ear.

"I can't wait to marry you."

His words come out so quiet that you're barely able to hear it. And before you can respond, some loud, marching footsteps snaps you out of thought.

"Y/N! Look at this, I found the perfect veil for you!" When Jihyo sees you and Seungcheol, she stops short in her tracks, glancing at the sight of you in the dress and Seungcheol standing in front of you appearing as if he was just two seconds away from kissing you.

You clear your throat loudly, stepping away from Seungcheol and towards Jihyo.

"You found a veil for me?" You ask her.

"Yeah, put it on!" Jihyo hands you the dainty veil. "I went through hell trying to find a good one and I think this one works perfectly."

You feel Seungcheol's eyes on you as you carry the veil towards the mirror and carefully place it over your head. The light, airy fabric showers down around you, complementing the elegant gown. As you adjust the veil to your liking, you catch a glimpse of your reflection and can't help but smile. You see Seungcheol in the mirror as well, staring at you with an intense gaze of admiration.

And when you turn around, Seungcheol thinks you look more beautiful than what his imagination could possibly give him. He has to bite at his bottom lip in order to suppress some of the giddiness threatening to spread throughout his body, and the thought of seeing you again in a wedding dress makes him almost dizzy.

You're like an angel who has stepped foot into his world. The dress houses your wings and the veil is your halo. It's a perfect vision of the future he’s been dreaming about for so long it nearly makes him burst; a reality that he never thought he'd be seeing so soon.

He's going to marry you𑁋he knows he will. He knew that from that moment you first smiled at him back in your freshman year English class, all because you both simply made unexpected eye contact while you were introducing yourself. He knew it even more when he embarrassingly fell on his ass during a university soccer game and your laugh was the only sound that he could hear.

This is his first peek of forever with you, and he can't wait for it to all come true.

Seungcheol faintly hears you ask what he thinks about it, and only the heavens know how much he wants to answer by putting that ring stashed in the depths of his bedside drawer on your finger right then and there. But there's a time and place for everything. He has to make sure everything is perfect first.

So, yeah, he should really get to planning. And right now seems like a good start.

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satorusdiary · 2 years ago

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dilf!toji being your ex bf

fluff & angst + making up + cuddling + toji not being able to resist you when you look so fragile + toji forever loving you

part 2! - back in love !

You sent 1:03 am

hey, r u awake?

toji places the cigarette back down on the ashtray, looking at his phone slightly shocked. it’s been months since you and him have had contact, the split up that has happened to your relationship has left a strain in his heart.

why did you text him at this hour? and most importantly, why aren’t you asleep? toji knows how well your sleep schedule usually was.

his friends look at him concerned, the look on toji’s face confusing them even more compared to when he stopped smoking repeatedly just a few seconds ago.

“fushiguro, you good?” satoru questions, patting his friends shoulder as he looks over at his friends phone. he wasn’t able to get a look at the message before toji pulls the phone into a direction that wasn’t able to be seen.

“yeah.. jus’ lemme call someone real quick.” before the rest of his friends could protest, toji is up and walking over to an empty room in the apartment. taking a seat on the bed.

Toji sent 1:09 am

thought i told you to lose my number

now that’s something he wouldn’t text you, he immediately starting regretting sending that message the second you immediately read the message.

you were his sweet little girl. the young woman who he swore he was gonna marry, the one he swore to have kids with.

things were different when he realized how much his life would have an impact on you if you stayed with him.

what’s good about a sweet girl who has a bright future getting with a older man selling illegal substances, that could send him to jail for years and years.

yeah not good at all.

toji knew what’s best for you, and if it meant him not being with you then it was worth it.

because he loved you, and would do physically anything in his power for you to have the best in life.

You sent 1:09 am

i know, i just need someone to talk to rn. i’m sorry

his heart weeps, you still want his comfort even after he has completely broke you, and your relationship with him.

he should be in jail for just breaking you in general.

toji sighs, not knowing how to reply. he wants to comfort you, yet he wants to push you away from his life. push you away from the trouble and the dangers that could happen to you.

he thinks you have given up until you text him 3 minutes later.

You sent 1:12 am

can i call you, please toji?

he couldnt deny it. he just couldnt. his love for you was simply unbreakable even if you weren’t together anymore.

his friends out in the living room are most likely concerned and worried for toji, but that’s the least of his problems. he needs to know if you’re okay, if you’re hurt.

‘incoming call from Toji’

he swears his heart skips a beat when the call goes through.

toji is not one to get nervous. especially with anything in general. but when it came to you, everything comes crashing down. when it comes to you, toji is willing to do anything for you, because you were his girl. his love.

“..hi” your voice is shaky, it seems you’re nervous as well. could he blame you though? this was the first time in months he has actually spoke to you.

“hey.” he replies, hoping you wouldn’t notice the weak tone in his voice as he spoke.

there’s a moment of silence, and soft breathing from your end before toji speaks up.

“are you ok? why’d you call me.”

it’s harsh, his tone is harsh. your eyes begin watering, and you hope he doesn’t notice.

“i-i am just having trouble sleeping, that’s all. ‘wanted your company atleast to calm me down.” your tone has a small strain, as if you were crying for hours before you called him.

it was as if he was able to see your puffy eyes through the screen, he could just imagine it now.

“there’s something else, hm? c’mon tell me, y’know i won’t judge.” especially with you. is what he wanted to say as-well, but he couldn’t get to soft with you now. he couldn’t.

he hears a sniffle from your end, feeling his heart clench once more. as if his heart is dropping to the bottom of his stomach.

“okay.. t-truth is i usually sleep better with you ‘round. but since you’re gone, ‘ts been kinda rough. i just wanted to call you for once, to see if it would help..” you confessed, voice breaking down in between sentences.

toji has an urge to put you down, and hang up. but he couldn’t, how could he resist you? especially after everything he has put you through.

the bracelet on his wrist that has your initials come into his vision. you had made this for him when he was sick, he has never took it off ever since.

“y’want me to come over? not gonna make contact, jus’ gonna be there til you sleep.” he says calmly, he swore he could’ve heard you sigh in relief.

“mhmm, yes please..” you’re still polite, his sweet girl is still sweet around him. that’s what he misses with you.

“alright’ be there in 10. jus know i’m never doin this shit again, kay?” he says harshly, too harsh.

you sniffle again, he could tell your frowning and having tears drop on your phone screen. his heart strings get tugged, and he calms his weeping heart.

he’s hurt you once again.

the call ends before you could say anything else, and he’s out of the bedroom quickly taking his keys. his friends look at him concerned.

“yo, you good?” suguru comments, looking up at his friend who was ready to leave the apartment.

“where you going?” satoru also questions.

toji shakes his head, letting out a deep sigh as he turns to look at his of friends once again.

“gonna be gone for a bit, see ya tomorrow?” he waves them off, and goes out the door before they could reply, or ask anymore questions.

he knows he said he would be at your place by 10 minutes, but he ends up arriving in 5 minutes. quickly at your door step, knocking on the door gently.

just as he predicted, you open the door almost immediately.

when he looks at you, he swears he could break down then and there. on your door step.

your eyes are puffy, you’re wearing his hoodie that he “accidentally” left at your home, and there were dried tear stains on your puffy cheeks.

he wanted to kiss your cheeks badly, and cradle you in his arms. but he resisted.

thats before you crash into his arms, immediately breaking down. hugging him tightly as if he was going to disappear again.

toji breaks, he can’t handle the cold act around you any longer.

“y/n? what’s wrong baby? speak to me..” toji coo’s, his harsh tone disappeared. you automatically feel comfort from his nice tone, something you missed.

there he is, the sweet older boyfriend you have always missed. the man who was your home, your protector, your everything.

“‘missed you s’much toji. miss being with you and megumi, i-i can��t sleep without thinking about how i could’ve been better for you.” you stutter repeatedly.

it was no lie that megumi missed you as well. the boy who is only 3 years old can not go a night without asking where you were, if you were coming back to him without breaking down. because you made the little boy feel loved.

toji’s heart breaks, now he notices how selfish he has been. yes he was protecting you, but he also broke you so much. regret seeps into his body, he wraps his arms around you and hugs you tightly.

“‘s not your fault sweets, you were more than enough for me. c’mon, let’s go to bed.” he murmurs, picking you up bridal style and walks towards your bedroom. the door behind him shutting closed.

the photo of you both happily together was still on your night stand, toji’s heart breaks for the millionth time in the past hour.

his side of the bed was cold, as if you never slept on it. that’s because it felt wrong sleeping on that side, knowing it once belonged to him.

you continue crying as you’re placed on the bed, still in toji arms. he’s careful with you, placing kisses on your face and rubbing your body to give you his heat.

“i-i miss you.. s’much.” you repeat, looking up at him for the first time with clear sight. tears drying back on your cheeks.

he gives you a sad smile and kisses both of your cheeks, sticky with tears.

“i miss you more sweetheart, missed my little girl s’much.. ‘l’ll explain everythin to you tomorrow, kay?” he questions, caressing your cold cheek.

the smile you give him is sad, but could easily melt the coldness in his heart.

after you nod he places a kiss on your lips, before pulling you closer, your head on his chest while is head is rested on top of yours.

the night goes by, and your soft snores fill the room. toji’s eyes are still glued onto the photo of you both, looking so happy, so dumb and in love.

he is gonna make that happen again, only for you. he’d figure out everything else soon, his priority was now you.

“i love you, missed you more than anything. baby.” he whispers quietly, placing one last kiss to your temple before drifting off to sleep.

for the first time in months he is able to sleep with no bad feelings, or any nightmares.

that is because you’re by his side, by his side to push away all the bad thoughts. by his side to make him feel loved again.

Jujutsu Kaisen masterlist

part 2 - back in love !

a/n: don’t mind typos pls, it’s like 3:47 am😭😭

11K notes · View notes

hamilando · 7 months ago

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ੈ✩ wrong couple ? (smau) ੈ✩

pairing : lando norris x fem reader

summary : the chaotic process of Lando getting a wife

fc: Olivia Culpo

a/n : This is a series, and this is PART 2, let me know if you want to be tagged in the final part ! it was requested anonymously, thank you for requesting it 🫶🏻

·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ

liked by landonorris, alexandramieux and 137,937 others

ynculpo sunsets with the best man I could get 🌅

view comments

user1 I saw what she did there 🗿

user2 MA'AM!? WHAT IS THE CRUISE FOR !?

user3 istg everyone is just posting pics and not telling anything

user4 MAX AND KELLY GOT ENGAGED !?

user5 #KELLAX

user6 that sounds like a crime mob name 😭

landonorris forever and ever 🧡

liked by ynculpo

user7 I luvvv how lando's media personality is different from his real one

user8 Sir Lando, please lend em your gf, she is too gorgeous 🤺

user7 Only Lewis is Sir, Lando is master 🫦

charlesleclerc mama and papa 🐱

ynculpo HELL NO- I CANT BE A GRANDMA AT 24

oscar.piastri 😔

ollie.bearman 😔

ynculpo stop, you have alex

fransisca.gnomes I am stealing her lando

landonorris sure, take her for the day, because her nights are mine

maxverstappen1 you horny ass

landonorris what? you never watch Netflix and chill with Kelly ?

maxverstappen1 😒

user9 did he mean netflix or chill

user10 or NETFLIX AND CHILL

liked by maxverstappen1, ynculpo, landonorris, fransisca.gnomes and 1,284,294 others

kellypiquet mijn wereld ❤️

view comments

maxverstappen1 to many more years and watching P grow ❤️

liked by kellypiquet

user1 IS THAT A RING ON HER RING FINGER

user2 THE CRUISE WAS INDEED FOR HER AND MAX’S PROPOSAL

user3 THEY ARE GETTING MARRIED

user4 congrats to the best couple 🌟

user5 max really took that groomer as his wife…

user6 can you like not spoil their special day ?

user7 max, pls tell Lando to propose to yn as well

user8 fr, they have been dating for almost 4 years now

fransisca.gnomes my heart 🥹

liked by kellypiquet

landonorris best sil 🧡

liked by kellypiquet

user9 LANDO’S COMMENT

user10 LANDO JUST CONFIRMED

user11 damn, max flexing his money from this proposal

user12 if my standards are not up-

user13 fr, DAMIAN, YOU BETTER PROPOSE TO ME IN PRIVATE HIRED CRUISE

user14 who is damian? user13 my bf 🗿

liked by landonorris, kellypiquet and 849,278 others

maxverstappen1 best man duties

view comments

user1 TOLD YA

user2 HE IS GETTING MARRIED YALL

user3 EVEN KELLYY LIKED

user4 she likes all posts 🗿

user5 MY PENELOPE AND MAX HEART

user6 MAX VERSTAPPEN, 3 TIME WORLD CHAMPION IS NOW MARRIED

user7 we got one more down before Lewis 🤺

landonorris 😏🙃

liked by maxverstappen1

charlesleclerc so excited 💪🏻

liked by maxverstappen1

carlossainz55 tequilla and music 🌇

liked by maxverstappen1

user8 THE GRID DRIVERS ARENT EVEN DENYING IT

user9 GRID MARRIAGE WOOHOHOHOHOHOHO

user10 but isn't the best man for someone else's wedding ?

user11 wait..

user12 WHAT

user13 y'all it's him and Kelly getting married only, being a best man for Kelly ?

user14 makes sense

user15 y'all are dumb

user16 why is Lando in all the pics tho?

user17 can't there be friends 😒

liked by user1, user2, user3, and 483,683 others

f1wags New Marriage in grid !? A huge ‘marry me’ was seen in the ocean, presumably where the f1 grid cruise was passing by. With the recent post of Kelly Piquet, Max Vertsappen’s girlfriend, it seems she is the new Mrs. Verstappen ?

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user1 AHAHAHAHAHAH

user2 told ya-

user3 where is my invite ?

user4 to all the haters, TAKE THAT

user5 can’t wait for more max x penelope crumbs 🥹

user6 that man seriously showed off his wealth for the proposal

user7 they look cute together ngl-

part3

tg: @lydia-demarek @mel164 @h34rts4maisey @poppyflower-22 @dolphlinda

@ilivbullyingjeongin @fangirlforever2000 @magnusi-97 @clo5406 @yesmanbabe

@wosof1 @luvsforme @nikfigueiredo @evie-119 @clarenciago

@raynetargaryan2 @brekkers-whore @lifesass @formula1-motogpfan @yawn-zi

@barcelonaloverf1life @jxnellat @gigicisneros @yukimaniac @l-sofiamia-l

@s0phiad @shiftermeance @coriyaps @formulaal

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @landotd @fulla02 @orlafitz1664

@abq654 @mastermindbaby @awritingtree @nichmeddar @emz2092

@mysteriesincorporated @dramallama9 @emxlando @ahnneyong @burkylover

@czennieszn @weekendlusting @charli123456789 @mamako23

@mxdi0 @claudiajacobs

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theballadofharkness · 3 days ago

Text

Make me a Mommy

Pairing: Agatha Harkness X fem!reader

Summary: Agatha is horrified and personally victimised when you go off the pill to switch medications and have to forego having sex unprotected… will you both be able to last weeks without it? Or will you decide to take a different course of action?

Word Count: 5.4K

Warnings: explicit smut, g!p Agatha, breeding kink, overstimulation, unprotected sex, MDNI

A/N: so here is my first explicit smut fic… hope it’s okay my loves xo

You step through the door, kicking off your shoes with a sigh before making your way into the living room, where Agatha is curled up on the couch with a book in her lap. The fireplace is crackling softly, casting a warm glow across the room, and for a moment, you just admire her- your wife, your beautiful, gorgeous wife, looking utterly serene as she flips through the pages.

Then you clear your throat. “So… bad news,” you start, dropping your bag onto the armchair.

Agatha hums absently, not looking up. “Mhm?”

“The doctor wants me to switch birth control. Says it’ll fix my headaches,” you say, sitting down beside her. “Which means I have to be off it for a few weeks before starting the new one.”

Agatha freezes.

Her book lowers slowly, like you’ve just told her something catastrophic. Her brows furrow, lips parting slightly as she stares at you, her expression a mix of betrayal and horror.

“Wait,” she says, her voice flat. “So that means… no unprotected sex?”

You nod, biting back a smile at her reaction. “That’s what I just said, babe.”

Agatha closes her book with a thud, tossing it onto the coffee table like it’s personally offended her. “You’re telling me I can’t be inside my wife” she gestures at you, “raw” she gestures again, “for weeks?”

You snort, folding your arms. “That’s generally what ‘off birth control’ means, yes.”

Agatha gapes at you, like you’ve just announced Santa Claus isn’t real and you personally set fire to the North Pole.

“But-” she flounders, her hands moving wildly as if trying to grasp onto logic. “We’ve never not had unprotected sex.”

“We have,” you remind her, amused. “In the beginning. Before I went on the pill.”

“That was forever ago,” she grumbles, flopping back against the couch like the weight of this tragedy is simply too much to bear. “I’m a married woman, for fuck’s sake.”

“Yeah, I know,” you tease, patting her thigh. “I was there for the wedding, remember?”

“This is cruel and unusual punishment,” she mutters, rubbing a hand down her face. Then, narrowing her eyes at you, “Did the doctor say we can’t have sex at all?”

“No, we just have to use protection,” you reply, tilting your head. “Why?”

Agatha grimaces, like the word itself is offensive to her. “Protection?” she echoes, appalled. “You want me to go back to using condoms? Like we’re teenagers sneaking around in the back of a car?”

“Well, yeah, Aggie,” you grin, enjoying this way too much. “Unless you wanna risk getting me pregnant, that’s kinda the only option.”

You had wanted to bring it up. The words sat heavy on your tongue, right there, waiting, ‘Have you ever thought about kids?’ for a while now. But you knew Agatha. You knew the way she guarded herself, the way certain subjects made her retreat behind sharp wit and dry humor. You knew the ghosts that haunted her, the quiet fears she never quite voiced. And this? This was something she might run from.

So you swallowed the words down as you tried to stop yourself from thinking of tiny hands reaching for hers. Laughter ringing through the house. Agatha, rolling her eyes at some ridiculous mess but still cleaning it up. Agatha, braiding soft little curls with the same careful precision she used to weave her spells. Agatha, with a child pressed to her chest, murmuring some ancient lullaby into their hair. A family. Your heart ached with how much you wanted it. One day. Maybe one day.

Agatha groans, dragging a hand through her hair. “Baby, you’re killing me,” she whines, letting her head fall back against the cushions. “No raw, no filling you up? Just some sad, latex-covered half-measure?”

You laugh, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “It’s not that bad,” you tease. “You’ll survive.”

“Debatable,” Agatha grumbles, pulling you into her lap with an exaggerated huff. “Guess I’ll just have to remind you how good I am with my mouth instead.”

You shiver at her tone, but before you can respond, she presses a slow, hot kiss to your throat, her hands already wandering.

You’re standing at the stove, flipping pancakes, when you feel her eyes on you.

“You know,” Agatha sighs dramatically from the kitchen table, “this house just feels so… empty now.”

You glance over your shoulder, eyebrows raised. “Empty?”

She nods solemnly, stirring her coffee like she’s mourning something. “Mhm. It’s like there’s a void. A great, gaping hole in my life.”

You snort, turning back to the stove. “Let me guess- the void is unprotected sex?”

“I’m so glad you understand my pain,” she deadpans. “It’s like you get me.”

You shake your head, amused. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Am I?” she presses, her chair scraping back as she stalks toward you. “Am I really, sweetheart?”

You gasp when she wraps her arms around you from behind, pressing her face into your neck like a suffering widow. “I just love you so much,” she mumbles against your skin. “And now I have to endure this tragic separation between my wife and my-”

“Okay, okay,” you laugh, wiggling in her grip. “You’re being very dramatic, baby.”

She nuzzles closer, squeezing you. “Just let me have this.”

You giggle, flipping the pancake. “My poor, suffering wife.”

“Thank you,” she murmurs, still clinging to you like she’s drawing strength from your presence. “I appreciate your support in this difficult time.”

You’re in the supermarket, picking out some vegetables, when you realize Agatha has gone suspiciously quiet.

Turning your head, you find her a few steps away, staring at a very specific aisle.

The family planning section.

You watch as she glares at the boxes of condoms like they personally offended her, arms crossed, jaw tight.

“Babe,” you call gently.

She sighs heavily, dragging a hand down her face. “I just never thought I’d be back here,” she mutters, sounding exhausted. “It’s like I’ve been… demoted.”

You choke on a laugh. “Demoted?!”

“Yeah,” she gestures vaguely. “I worked so hard to get promoted to no condoms, and now? It’s like I’m back at square one. Like all my effort meant nothing.”

You bite your lip, fighting a grin. “Well, it’s only temporary-”

“Temporary,” she mimics flatly, rolling her eyes. “Easy for you to say, sweetheart. You’re not the one being robbed of life’s greatest joy.”

You snort, grabbing a box off the shelf. “C’mon, let’s just get these and go-”

But before you can blink, she snatches it from your hands and throws it back onto the shelf like it burned her.

“No,” she says firmly. “We’re getting the thinnest ones. I refuse to be a peasant about this.”

You lose it, cackling as she grumbles to herself, flipping through boxes like she’s reading product reviews.

You’re curled up in bed, scrolling on your phone, when you hear the deepest, heaviest sigh known to man.

You glance over.

Agatha is lying on her back, staring at the ceiling like she’s contemplating the meaning of life, her arm draped dramatically over her forehead.

You wait.

Another sigh.

You set your phone down, propping yourself up on your elbow. “You okay over there, babe?”

“No,” she huffs, turning her head to look at you. “I’m suffering.”

“Oh no,” you coo, biting back a grin. “What’s wrong, my love?”

She squints, like you should already know. “I can’t fuck you raw,” she states. “That’s what’s wrong.”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “Baby, it’s not that serious-”

“Not that serious?” she gasps, clutching her chest. “Sweetheart, this is a crisis. We were so happy. We were thriving. And now-” She gestures vaguely at the air. “Now we’re living in hell.”

You burst out laughing, covering your face with your hands. “Oh my god, Agatha-”

“No, really,” she continues, scooting closer, resting her head on your stomach. “I miss my wife. I miss being inside my wife. I miss-”

“Okay,” you gently cover her mouth with your hand. “You’re so down bad.”

She makes an indignant noise against your palm before licking it playfully, making you squeal.

“Just saying,” she mumbles as she nuzzles your skin. “It’s been three days. I might die.”

“You’re not going to die,” you giggle, running your fingers through her hair. “You’ll be fine.”

She huffs dramatically, hugging your waist. “I better get a reward for all this suffering.”

You grin, pressing a kiss to her temple. “We’ll see.”

She groans, rolling onto her back again, dramatically flinging an arm over her face. Yeah. This is going to be a long few weeks.

It starts with a kiss.

Not the usual playful, teasing ones-no, this is desperate. Needy. You’re in bed, in Agatha’s lap, her hands firm on your waist as she devours your mouth like she’s been starving for you. And maybe she has. Because you started this. You’d meant for it to be just some lazy making out, something soft, something sweet. But then she groaned against your lips, fingers digging into your hips, and fuck- you were gone.

“Baby,” she murmurs, voice wrecked, breathing uneven. “You keep squirming like that, and I’m gonna-”

“Do it,” you whisper, rolling your hips against her again. “C’mon, Aggie. Want you.”

She grits her teeth, squeezing her eyes shut like she’s holding herself back. “Sweetheart,” she warns. “We can’t-”

“Fuck it,” you breathe, grabbing her face, kissing her hard. “Fuck it, Agatha. Please.”

She groans, hands trembling as they move under your shirt, pushing the fabric up, feeling you.

“Baby, we have to use protection,” she forces out, like she’s fighting for her life.

You shake your head fiercely, chest heaving. “No. No, I don’t want that. I want you. I want it raw. Please, Agatha, I-”

You’re going to kill her.

Agatha is trying- really trying- to be good, to be patient, to respect the fact that you’re still waiting, that you can’t let her have you the way she needs to just yet. But then you’re in her lap, all soft and warm, all giggles and needy little whimpers, pressing those sweet, sloppy kisses against her neck, shifting in her arms, looking up at her with those big, desperate eyes, and fuck she’s already breaking.

Her whole body jerks at your words, her breath shuddering as she grips your thighs, trying-failing-to stay in control. “You’re playing dangerous games, sweetheart,” she rasps. “You know I want that too-”

“C’mon, Aggie,” you whisper, breathless and sweet, rolling your hips against her, making her groan, making her ache. “Just a little. Just the tip, baby. Please.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” she groans, kissing you feverishly, hands everywhere, touching, claiming. “You really want this, sweetheart? You’re sure?”

You whimper, nodding frantically, arching into her touch. “Yes, yes, I- fuck, please, Aggie, I need it, I need you-”

And fuck, she wants to say no.

She wants to be good, to be careful, to be patient-

But then you grind against her, soft and sweet, and fuck, she snaps.

“Shit,” she grits, her hands shaking as she grips your hips, guiding you down, just enough to let you feel her, just enough to feel that tight, wet heat wrapped around the very tip-

And then you whimper.

Then your walls flutter around her.

Then you clench, just a little, just enough to make her see stars-

And it’s over. The last of her self-restraint snaps like a frayed thread.

“Oh, fuck-” she groans, her head falling back against the pillows, her control snapping as she grips your hips, dragging you down onto her cock, filling you up in one deep, desperate stroke.

And shit, you gasp, eyes going wide, fingers gripping at her shoulders. And Agatha just groans, burying her face in your neck, pressing a shaky kiss to your skin, trembling beneath you as she thrusts up. “I’m sorry, baby,” she rasps, voice thick with lust, with hunger, with need. “I can’t-fuck, I can’t stop now.”

Agatha is gone. She’s supposed to be careful. Supposed to be taking her time, waiting until you’re back on the pill. But you’re so warm around her, so tight, so perfect, and fuck, you whimpered when she filled you up, clenching down like you were made for her, and now? Now she can’t stop.

“Fuck,” she groans, her grip tight on your hips as she grinds you down onto her cock, dragging you over her slow and deep, like she’s trying to ruin you, like she needs you to feel every inch of her.

And you’re gasping, nails digging into her shoulders, lips parted, eyes glassy as you whimper, “Aggie-oh, my god-”

And that breaks her.

“Oh, you like that, pretty girl?” she rasps, voice thick, hungry, her teeth grazing your throat as she rocks her hips up, slow and deep, dragging against that sweet little spot inside you, making you whimper, making you shake.

“I-” You can’t even speak, just a broken little gasp, your body trembling as she fucks you, slow and deliberate, like she’s claiming you.

And fuck, she is. She grips your hips, dragging you down onto her cock, her mouth at your ear, her voice wrecked as she murmurs, “Thought you just wanted the tip, sweetheart.”

You writhe in her arms, whimpering as you shake your head, your fingers fisting in her hair. “Didn’t mean to-”

“Yeah?” she hums, her voice a tease, even as her hands are shaking, even as she’s trying so hard to hold herself together. “Didn’t mean to take my whole cock, baby?”

You squirm, burying your face in her shoulder, your whole body trembling against her. But Agatha smirks, her grip tightening, her hips rolling up in one, slow, deep thrust, filling you up so good, so perfect, making you cry out, making you tremble.

And then she grins, pressing a kiss to your temple, whispering, “Guess I’ll just have to keep fucking you until you mean it.”

Your voice is shaky, gasping against her lips as you clutch at her shoulders. “Shit, okay-okay, just-” You squeeze your eyes shut, your breath hitching as she drags you down onto her cock, slow and deep. “Just don’t- don’t cum inside, okay?”

Agatha groans, her fingers digging into your hips as she grits her teeth, her restraint hanging by a thread.“Oh, sweetheart,” she rasps, her head falling back against the pillows, her hands trembling as she holds you there, buried to the hilt.

But you’re squirming, grinding yourself down onto her, chasing that perfect friction, your voice all soft and breathless as you whimper, “It’s fine, it’ll be fine, just- just don’t stop.”

And fuck, she almost loses it. Because you’re so tight, so wet, squeezing down around her cock like you’re made for it, your body shuddering as you bury your face in her neck, whimpering her name, your fingers digging into her arms- and you’re telling her not to stop? Yeah, she wasn’t planning on it. She snaps her hips up, grinding deep, her breath coming out in a harsh groan as she fists a hand in your hair, tilting your face up so she can kiss you, swallowing your broken little moan.

“Yeah?” she grits out, her cock dragging against that sweet spongey spot inside you, making your whole body tremble. “You sure about that, baby?”

And you nod, your breath all hot and desperate against her lips as you gasp, “I-I can’t- Aggie, don’t stop, please-”

She flips you onto your back, pressing you into the mattress as she rolls her hips, deep and slow, her voice a wrecked little murmur against your throat.

“Don’t stop,” she mimics, her grin dangerous as she grinds into you, making you gasp, making you tremble. “Gonna be a good girl for me, then?”

You nod, your whole body shuddering as you cling to her, whispering, “Yes-yes, I promise-”

But Agatha just grins, pressing a kiss to your temple as she whispers, “Good girl. Now let’s see if you mean it.”

Her voice is low, gravelly, the sound sinking straight to your core as she rolls her hips, slow and deep, dragging her cock against that achingly sensitive spot inside you. You’re trembling, your thighs tight around her waist as you whimper, your fingers digging into her back, clinging to her like she’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

“Look at you,” she murmurs, her lips brushing against your temple, her breath hot against your skin. “All fucked out already, baby?”

And shit, you are. Your body is shaking, your head tipping back as you gasp, your hips rocking against hers, chasing more, deeper, anything.

And Agatha just grins, her fingers tight on your hips as she pins you down, holding you still as she drags herself out of you- slow, torturous- until only the tip is left inside. Then, she snaps her hips forward, burying herself to the hilt, her cock grinding against that perfect, little spot inside you. Your back arches, a wrecked little moan breaking from your lips as you cling to her, your breath coming out in ragged gasps.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she grits out, her voice wrecked as she grinds deep, her hands shaking as she grips your thighs, spreading you wider, letting herself sink into you even more. “So fucking perfect for me.”

And you whimper, your head spinning, your body burning hot with want as you nod, breathless and needy, whispering, “Yes-yes, I-I am-”

And Agatha just groans, pressing her forehead against yours as she grinds her hips, slow and deep, drawing out every little whimper, every tremble of your body.

“Don’t stop, Aggie-please.” you whisper, voice all shaky and sweet

And fuck, she wasn’t planning on it. Her pace stutters, her breath coming in ragged, desperate gasps as your body tightens around her, pulling her deeper, tighter, until she can barely hold herself together.

“Fuck-” she grits out, her fingers digging into your thighs as she grinds into you, deep and slow, dragging out every little shudder and whimper that spills from your lips.

You’re right there, your body trembling, your nails scraping down her back as you cling to her, your breath ragged as you gasp, “Aggie-I-oh, fuck- please let me cum- please- ah!”

She groaned at your begging, her restraint barely hanging by a thread. “Since you asked so sweetly, darling,” she murmured, her voice like velvet, before she filled you again with slow, deliberate strokes that left you gasping, toes curling, body melting beneath her.

Agatha let out a low, satisfied hum, leaning down to press a kiss against your parted lips as she stilled, letting you adjust.

“There you go,” she whispered against your mouth, her smirk returning as she rolled her hips just enough to make you moan. “Now- hold it for me.”

“I- I can’t,” you whimpered, nails digging into her shoulders as your body trembled beneath her. The stretch, the fullness of her, the way she was holding you right at the edge without letting you tip over- it was too much, too overwhelming.

Agatha tsked softly, her lips curving into a knowing smirk as she rolled her hips, slow and deep, making you sob at the sensation. “Oh, sweetheart,” she purred, dragging her fingers along your jaw, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet her gaze. “Yes, you can.”

You shook your head, gasping as she ground into you, pressing deeper, teasing that spot inside you that made your whole body shudder. Your thighs clenched around her waist, desperate for more friction, more everything.

“I- please, I can’t hold it,” you moaned, your voice a broken, pleading thing.

Agatha chuckled, dark and full of promise. “Yes, you can,” she murmured, lips brushing against your ear as she slowed her movements just enough to keep you dangling, just enough to keep you teetering on the brink without relief. “And you will.”

You let out a desperate cry, clinging to her as if she were the only thing keeping you tethered to this world.

“Be a good girl for me,” she coaxed, her voice dripping with sin, her hand slipping between your bodies to press slow, torturous circles over your clit. “Hold it.”

Your whole body tensed, fire licking up your spine, the pressure unbearable. Tears pricked your eyes, every muscle straining with the effort of obeying her command.

“That’s it,” Agatha cooed, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips, just as she gave a sharp, deep thrust that made you scream.

“You’re doing so well, darling,” she praised, nipping at your bottom lip as she kept you right there, teetering on the edge of bliss, refusing to let you fall just yet.

You sobbed her name, mind spinning, pleasure building to an unbearable peak.

“Just a little longer,” she purred, her smirk pressing against your skin. “Then I’ll let you come.”

“Please,” you choked out, voice raw and desperate, your fingers clawing at her back, her arms, anything to hold onto. “Agatha- please, please, please-”

She hummed, her lips dragging along your throat, her breath warm and teasing. “Such a needy little thing,” she murmured, rolling her hips in a slow, deliberate grind, pressing deep until you saw stars.

You sobbed out a curse, every nerve in your body screaming for release.

Agatha smirked against your skin. “You’ve been so good for me, darling.” Her voice was honeyed, dark and dripping with approval. “I think you deserve it now.”

Your eyes flew open, barely able to process the words before…

“Come for me, sweet girl.”

The command shattered you.

The second she said it, she drove her hips forward with a slow, deep thrust, her fingers pressing just right against your clit, and you broke.

Your body arches, your head tipping back as a wrecked moan spills from your lips, your whole body shaking beneath her as your orgasm washes over you, hot and overwhelming, pulling her right over the edge with you.

“Shit,” Agatha groans, her hips jerking, her grip tight as she grinds into you, her body tensing as she lets out a deep, desperate moan.

You clenched around her, waves of bliss crashing over you. You pulled her closer to you, pressing your damp skin against her.

“Baby,” she grits out, her hips trembling as she tries to pull back, tries to do the right thing- but you’re clutching at her, your legs tightening around her waist, your body so soft and warm and perfect beneath her.

“Don’t pull out,” you beg, your voice breathless, eyes wide and glassy as you look up at her. “Please, Aggie, make me a mommy.”

Her head drops, a shudder racking through her whole body as a wrecked groan spills from her lips.

“Fuck,” she rasps, her resolve breaking as she grinds into you, so deep and slow, like she’s pressing the idea into you, sealing it into your very bones. “You want that?” she breathes, her hands tight on your hips, holding you in place as her nose brushes yours. “Want me to put a baby in you, sweet girl?”

You whimper, nodding frantically, your fingers tangling in her hair, your lips brushing hers as you whisper, “Please, Aggie, I want it so bad.”

That’s all she needed to hear. Her restraint snaps like a thread pulled too tight. A guttural sound rumbles in her chest as she buries herself in you, grinding deep, pressing her weight down like she could force the very thought of being filled, of being bred, into your mind, your body, your soul.

“Fuck, baby,” she rasps, her breath hot against your cheek. “Gonna fill you up so good, make sure it takes-”

You whimper, your hands gripping at her shoulders, your legs locked around her back. “Yes, yes, please-”

She grits her teeth, her rhythm turning slow, deliberate, dragging each thrust out like she wants you to feel it, to remember it. Her hands splay over your belly, her thumbs stroking over the soft skin like she’s already imagining the way it’ll swell beneath her touch.

“You’ll look so beautiful carrying my baby,” she murmurs, her voice low, reverent. “Gonna be such a good mama, sweetheart.”

Your breath hitches, your eyes going glassy, your body arching into hers. “Aggie-”

“I’ve got you, baby,” she soothes, pressing her forehead to yours, her hips rolling, her cock grinding against that spot that makes you cry out. “Taking me so well, fuck-”

Her movements turn shakier, her breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps. “Shit, I’m gonna-baby, I’m gonna-”

“Do it,” you plead, clutching at her, dragging her down, kissing her with everything you have. “Please, Aggie, give it to me-”

And with a wrecked, desperate moan, she does.

As the last tremors roll through her, Agatha collapses onto you, careful not to let her full weight press you down, but still keeping you beneath her, caging you in. Her breath is hot against your neck, her lips skimming your pulse, and she shudders at the way your walls are still fluttering around her, so tight and warm, like your body still doesn’t want to let her go.

“My perfect girl,” she murmurs, voice hoarse, reverent. Her hands splay over your belly, stroking, like she’s already imagining you full of her, already claiming what she’s just given you. “So good for me, sweetheart. So fucking good.”

You whimper, your body still twitching, hypersensitive and overwhelmed. “Aggie-”

“Shhh, baby,” she soothes, pressing kisses along your jaw, your cheek, your temple. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

She finally, slowly, pulls out, and you whimper again, your body clenching at the loss, feeling empty without her. But before you can protest, her fingers skim down your body, dipping between your legs, gathering the warm, sticky evidence of what she’s just done to you.

“Look at that, baby,” she purrs, her fingers trailing through the mess she’s made of you, playing in it, spreading it. “So full of me.”

Your breath hitches, your hips jerking when she teases at your aching clit, her touch featherlight, just enough to send a shockwave through your already wrecked body. “Aggie!”

She chuckles, low and wicked, watching the way you tremble, the way your body reacts to every tiny movement of her fingers. “Too sensitive, sweetheart? But you love it, don’t you?”

You shake your head, but you’re squealing, gasping, your thighs trying to clamp shut around her wrist- but she’s stronger, and she holds you open, torturing you with slow, lazy strokes.

“One more for me, baby,” she murmurs, her voice like silk, like she’s asking something so simple, so reasonable. “Just one more, sweetheart. I know you can do it.”

“Aggie- I- I c-can’t-” you whimper, your thighs trembling, your body overwhelmed and aching, but she doesn’t stop. If anything, the way you plead only fuels her.

“Oh, but you can, sweetheart,” Agatha purrs, her fingers still teasing, dipping, spreading her claim inside you. “My good girl always gives me what I want.”

Your breath catches, your hands gripping at her, desperate, but she just shushes you, her lips brushing against yours, her body looming over you as she keeps you pinned, her fingers wickedly slow as they play between your shaking thighs.

“So messy, baby,” she murmurs, circling your puffy clit with the evidence of what she’s just done to you. “So perfect for me, letting me fill you up like this.”

You sob, the sensation too much, too intense, but you can’t stop the way your hips twitch, the way your body responds to her.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Agatha encourages, her voice low, dripping with satisfaction. “You wanna give me one more, don’t you? Wanna show me how much you love being full of me?”

“I-I-” you stammer, but she presses her thumb firmly against your aching clit, and you jerk, your back arching, your mouth falling open in a silent cry.

“There we go,” she coos, her other hand gripping your waist, holding you still as she works you through the aftershocks, her fingers spreading her warm release back inside you as she keeps stroking, keeps teasing, keeps pushing you toward the edge she knows you can’t resist.

“Aggie- I- I’m gonna-”

“That’s my girl,” she groans, her lips brushing your jaw as she feels your body tense, your walls fluttering around her fingers, your whole body shaking as she finally pushes you over again. “Let go for me, baby. Let me feel it.”

And you do. You break, shuddering, whimpering, your body pulsing in her hold as she watches, devours the way you come apart for her, your overstimulated body giving in completely.

“So fucking beautiful,” Agatha whispers, her fingers finally slowing, easing you through it, soothing you as you pant, your body spent and boneless beneath her.

She leans down, kissing your cheek, your forehead, murmuring soft praises against your damp skin as she finally pulls her fingers away.

“You did so well, sweetheart,” she soothes, her hands now gentle, comforting as she gathers you in her arms. “My perfect girl.”

Agatha holds you close, her body still shuddering slightly from the intensity of what just happened, but all her focus is on you now- her precious girl, her perfect love, shaking in her arms.

“You okay, baby?” she murmurs, her lips ghosting over your temple, her hands soothing over your damp skin, grounding you, centering you in the aftermath.

You nod, still breathless, your fingers weakly clinging to her forearm where it’s wrapped around you. “Mhm… just tingly.”

Agatha chuckles softly, kissing the side of your head before reaching for a nearby cloth, gently cleaning you up, her touch delicate, reverent. “Tingly, huh?” she teases, but there’s nothing but adoration in her voice. “I’d say that’s a good sign.”

You hum, letting your body melt against her, your eyes fluttering as she continues to wipe you down, soothing every overstimulated inch of you. The warmth of her body, the tenderness of her touch, it’s all so perfectly Agatha.

Once she’s finished, she pulls you into her embrace again, tugging the covers up over both of you. “C’mere, sweetheart,” she whispers, tucking you against her chest, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your back.

For a while, you just lay there, safe in her arms, the air thick with the lingering scent of sweat and sex and something undeniably intimate.

Then, in a voice so soft it’s barely a whisper, Agatha asks, “Did you mean it?”

You blink, lazily looking up at her. “Mean what?”

She tilts your chin slightly so you’re facing her, her thumb brushing over your lips. “About wanting to have my baby.”

Your cheeks warm, a mixture of shyness and something deeper settling in your chest. “I…” You swallow, nuzzling against her palm. “I did.”

Agatha inhales, her eyes searching yours, something unreadable flickering in their depths. “You really want that, sweetheart?” Her voice is hoarse, almost uncertain, like she can’t quite believe what she’s hearing.

You nod, reaching up to cup her face, smoothing your thumb over her cheek. “I love you, Agatha. I want… everything with you.”

She sucks in a breath, her grip on you tightening like she’s afraid to let you go. “Fuck, baby,” she whispers, her forehead pressing against yours. “You have no idea what that does to me.”

You smile, a little sleepy, a little giddy, so in love with this woman it aches. “I think I do,” you tease, letting your fingers twist into her hair. “You got all shaky and sentimental on me, Aggie.”

She huffs, but there’s no bite to it, only warmth as she pulls you even closer. “Shut up, brat,” she murmurs, but then she’s kissing you, deep and slow, and you know-you know-that she’s thinking the same thing you are.

That this is it.

That you belong to each other.

And that maybe, just maybe, there’s a future waiting for you- a future where you’re hers in every way.

#agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha all along #agatha harkness #agatha x reader #kathryn hahn x reader #kathryn hahn #agatha coven of chaos #agatha harkness smut #Agatha Harkness x reader smut #agatha smut

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quarterlifekitty · 5 days ago

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Lord!Johnny who detests the lot he’s drawn in life. He has no patience for propriety, for decorum. He just wants to be free— that’s all. To enjoy life and live without worry. He doesn’t realize how good he has it.

He fools around with you, one of the ladies in waiting, a respected member of the royal court. Cornering you in empty halls to kiss your neck and ruck his hands through your skirts.

You don’t want to deny him. Having his attention is nice. But you’ve told him before that you want to be courted properly— for this to be real.

And scoffs. Isn’t this real enough? You enjoy each other. That’s not anyone else’s business. Why ruin a good thing by playing some silly dating game for the pleasure of everyone else in the court? He likes things the way they are— free and easy. Enjoying you without any of the harsh expectations.

Enter Lord Riley, who was not born into this life. He earned his title, his lands, everything— through tears, sweat, and bloodshed in service of the crown. Men of such valiance are often offered to choose their reward, and he wants to be able to court any lady of his choosing. The other ladies are terrified— his skull mask and brooding demeanor, the lives he ended— not to mention the knowledge that he’s common born.

You don’t particularly care. Men have their reasons for doing such things. And you’ve found men born into wealth and titles are nothing spectacular themselves. So it should come as no surprise that he picks you out. And it seems he’s done his research.

Despite not being much for conversation, he is a perfect gentleman. You wonder if he would’ve treated a peasant girl so gently— and you have the feeling he would. He meets you at least once a week, has tea brought to the garden for you to sit with him. Your first kiss is in the hedge maze, backdropped by rose bushes. His hold on your waist was firm— like you were something he couldn’t bear to lose.

Needless to say, Johnny isn’t happy. You’ve been turning your nose up at him when he tries to pin you, batting his hands away from your skirts. Doesn’t take him long to find out why.

“So, some bloke with a scary mask waltzes in and suddenly yer done with me? Ah thought we had a good thing going, pigeon—“

“Maybe we did, but I’m not going to fool around while I’m being courted.” You know he hates that word.

“What’s he even got that ah don’t? I make ye feel good, don’t I?”

“He might marry me. That, and a million other reasons.”

“Marriage— what good is that? It’ll just tie ye down, bonnie, ye don’t wan’ that—“

“I do. I’m not like you, Johnny. My fortune won’t care for me forever. Men can get married as they please, but women— I only have so much time before no one wants me. Don’t you see that? And don’t try to tell me whatever was between us was going to be permanent. You would’ve left just as soon as someone else turned your head. That’s who you are.”

At the same time Johnny feels his heart start to bleed, Simon puts in a commission with the jeweler.

#literally so tired I almost signed this off like a work email #also I know this is basically medieval Promethean don’t come at me #writing #cod fanfic #cod #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #john soap mctavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #medieval au

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c-oupsie · 7 days ago

Text

── the fine print of fake dating (1/2),

pairing: kwon soonyoung x f!reader

summary: Two broke college best friends decide to enter a Valentine’s “Hottest Couple” contest for the chance to win a semester of free tuition. The plan? Nail every romantic challenge without anyone catching on that they’re faking it. The problem? Nowhere in the fine print did it say what to do when fake dating starts to feel a little too real.

word count: 3k (total fic wc: 21k)

genre: college au (frats, sororities), childhood best friends to fake dating to lovers, he’s in love w reader, fluff, humor, suggestive stuff, smut (in part two).

note: for the Lonely Hearts Cafe collab hosted by @camandemstudios! I know part one is extremely short, but i needed to get this out asap! hope this will hype you up for part two though! that’s where all the juice is at (,,>ヮ<,,)!

svt taglist: @aaniag @dokyeomkyeom @soonsgrl

warnings: alcohol (over)consumption, being drunk, more in part two.

smut tags: in part two.

𝗬𝗢𝗨’𝗩𝗘 𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗪𝗡 𝗦𝗢𝗢𝗡𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗚 𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗖𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗗𝗔𝗬𝗦 𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗡 𝗜𝗡𝗡𝗢𝗖𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗗𝗜𝗔𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗪𝗘𝗥𝗘 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗞𝗡𝗘𝗪.

Your mothers, best friends since middle school, had moved into homes right next to each other after getting married—and when they ended up pregnant at almost the same time, it was inevitable that you and Soonyoung would grow up side by side. Suffocating hugs, sleepovers, lazy afternoons, holidays—spending time together has been part of your life since forever, and as you grew older, you couldn’t even imagine a life without him.

But now, twenty years later, innocence and diapers are the furthest things from your minds. As Soonyoung pulls up to the Beta Chi Sigma frat house, excitement crackles in your chest. One night. You gave yourself just one night of fun, to forget about your overdue bills and tuition, the creeping exam session, your exhausting part-time job, or your empty side of the fridge in the cramped, rundown apartment you share with six other girls in the bad side of the town.

You just… can’t wait to get absolutely fucked up on this random Wednesday night.

Your starry-eyed gaze flickers toward the frat house, and before you know it, you’re running toward the entrance, laughter bubbling up as Soonyoung chases after you. Jihoon, one of your closest friends, follows at a slower pace, catching the keys Soonyoung tosses his way, already accepting his role as designated driver for the night.

The front entrance is crowded with students, conversations weaving through cigarette smoke as laughter spills into the night air. Just as you reach for the door, fingers tangle effortlessly with yours. You don’t even need to look. You already know it’s Soonyoung.

The moment you step inside, chaos engulfs you. The house is packed—bodies pressed together, music booming, voices yelling in hopes of being heard. Someone in the living room is absolutely butchering a song into a karaoke mic, while a crowd has gathered around a guy on the coffee table, watching him take a gravity bong rip like it’s the coolest, most interesting thing in the world. (Which… okay, you admit it’s kind of cool to see.)

Barely five minutes in, and your eyes are already stinging from the thick haze of smoke—just like always. Still, you manage to spot your group of friends gathered around the beer pong table. Grinning, you tug excitedly on Soonyoung’s hand, waving your free one in the air to catch their attention. Jihyo and Jinsol notice first, waving you over, but just as you take a step forward, a ping pong ball comes hurtling toward you. You dodge it just in time—Soonyoung, however, is not so lucky. It bounces off his forehead with a soft thwack.

“Ow! What the fuck?” He immediately slaps a hand to his forehead, eyes darting toward the culprit—Mingyu, who is very clearly trying (and failing) to stifle a laugh.

“Sorry, dude. My bad,” Mingyu chirps, utterly unapologetic.

By the time you and Soonyoung reach the table, Mingyu pulls both of you into a bone-crushing hug before handing you each an ice-cold beer, whispering that he saved them just for you. The gesture makes you smile.

From the corner of your eye, you spot Jihoon approaching Jinsol—the only one of your roommates you actually get along with and the same girl he somehow managed to charm just a few months into freshman year. They’ve been together for so long now that the man who once swore he hated PDA is currently all over her, hands not-so-subtly roaming as he presses a chaste kiss to her cheek.

You grimace at how disgustingly sweet they are.

Love, in your experience, is more trouble than it’s worth. You stopped believing in the idea of it after your ex—a complete waste of your time, though you couldn’t see that a year ago. Not until you walked into your own apartment to find him on the living room couch with one of your roommates. The same roommate you still share an apartment with. The same one who still pretends as if nothing happened. The same one who still has the audacity to act as if you’re friends.

Shaking off the thought, you perk up as Minghao and Seokmin push through the crowd, Seokmin lugging a massive neon-green vat of jungle juice while Minghao balances a stack of red Solo cups.

“Ah, the good stuff,” Soonyoung sighs dreamily.

You, on the other hand, nearly gag. If by good stuff he means liver-destroying liquid poison, then sure. And yet, you already know you’ll end up drinking it anyway. That’s why you’re here, after all—to embrace the full college experience, which your best friend refuses to miss out on. Case in point: he’s already downed the beer Mingyu handed him and is now eagerly reaching for the jungle juice.

“I give him twenty minutes before he’s trying to backflip off the counter,” Jihyo murmurs, slinging an arm around your shoulder, her beer can clinking with yours.

“That’s awfully generous of you.” You grin, chugging some of your cold beer before speaking again, “I give him no more than fifteen.”

To give him some credit, it takes your ever-lightweight best friend about an hour before he’s halfway onto the counter, loudly announcing a “sick trick” he’s about to show everyone. Thankfully, before he can follow through on whatever terrible idea is brewing in his drunken mind, Mingyu and Wonwoo—another frat boy who arrived at the party not long after you—spot him just in time and haul him back down to solid ground.

Soonyoung groans in protest, squirming in their grip. “You guys have no vision.”

Mingyu scoffs. “We do—and that vision includes you with a concussion if we let you go.”

Wonwoo just sighs. “At least let me place a bet before you try to break your skull.”

You shake your head when Soonyoung dramatically sits on your lap and throws his head back on your shoulder. You grimace at how sweaty and sticky (due to all of the alcohol he spilled on himself as you all played a myriad of drinking games) he feels, but still, you don’t push him off, taking the opportunity to shove a water bottle into Soonyoung’s hands. “Drink.”

He pouts at your commanding voice, even lightly kicks his feet, but takes a sip nonetheless, muttering something about being the undiscovered ‘parkour king’, and for a moment, you catch yourself finding the pinkish, drunken dust on his cheeks adorable.

Mindlessly, you run your fingers through his spiky hair, and you think he might've actually calmed down when he practically melts on top of you. That is, until Seokmin and Minghao reappear, eyes gleaming with mischief, their hands full of full shot glasses. The clinking of them is enough to tear your best friend out of the calm daze he was in.

“Oh, no,” you mutter.

“Oh, yes,” Soonyoung grins, jumping up from his (your) seat as he reaches for a shot.

You don’t even try to stop the inevitable as Soonyoung downs another shot, his grin stretching wider with every sip of alcohol. He hands you another shot glass, his hamster-like eyes shining with anticipation, and even though you know you should refuse, given that at least one of you should stay somewhat sober, you don’t. With a sigh and a half-hearted smile, you knock it back with him.

The liquor burns on the way down, but it’s a welcome distraction. Until now, you’d barely touched anything besides the beer Mingyu shoved into your hand when you first arrived. Not because you didn’t want to drink, but because no matter how hard you tried to just… let go and have fun with your friends, it was almost as if your mind was stopping you from being carefree.

And the way Jihyo, Jinsol, and Jihoon have started giving you these small, fleeting glances—ones that make you wonder if they’ve noticed the slight dip in your usual energy. If they’ve picked up on the way your laughs don’t come as easily, the way your smiles feel a little more forced.

You don’t want them to worry. You don’t even want to acknowledge it yourself.

So, you do the only thing you can do—you drink.

Another shot. Then another. The warmth spreads through your veins, numbing the edges of your thoughts, and you let yourself get swept up in the dizzy blur of it all. The music, the people, the easy laughter—if you focus hard enough, maybe you can forget, even if just for a little while.

But then you catch sight of Soonyoung.

He’s swaying slightly, eyes unfocused as he laughs a little too loudly at something Minghao said. His grip on his shot glass is loose, like he might drop it any second. He looks gone.

You frown. Maybe you let things go too far.

Without another thought, you push through the crowd and grab his wrist, ignoring his startled yelp as you tug him away from the drinks table. “Alright, that’s enough for you.”

“Wha—” Soonyoung stumbles slightly but lets you pull him along without protest. “Where are we going?” he asks, though he’s not really resisting, just letting you guide him through the crowded house. He trusts you.

“Somewhere you can’t make a fool of yourself,” you say, dragging him toward the quieter side of the house.

He pouts, looking adorably confused. “I never make a fool of myself.”

You snort. “That’s literally your entire personality.”

Soonyoung gasps dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. “I can’t believe you’d say that to me, your bestest friend in the whole universe.”

Rolling your eyes, you tighten your grip on his wrist and keep moving, weaving through the mass of sweaty, drunk students, until you finally reach the balcony.

The night air is a relief against your warm skin as you push open the balcony door, stepping out into the open space. A few people linger around, some engaged in quiet conversation, others taking slow drags from their cigarettes or passing a joint around. The scent of smoke mingles with the crispness of the evening, less suffocating than inside the party.

Soonyoung stumbles slightly as he follows you out, still pouting but too drunk to put up much of a fight. You guide him toward the railing, fishing out a half-empty water bottle from your bag before shoving it into his hands. “Drink,” you command.

He groans but obeys, taking a slow sip before scrunching his nose. “Water’s boring.”

“And yet, you need it,” you say, tipping your own bottle back for a long drink. The coolness soothes your throat, washing away the lingering burn of alcohol. You sigh, tilting your head back, eyes tracing the outline of the moon.

You should feel better now that you're away from the noise, but your thoughts are still buzzing—too many worries tangled up in your head. No matter how much you drank, how hard you tried to drown them out, they clung to you stubbornly. You wonder if Jihyo, Jinsol, and Jihoon had noticed. If they could tell you weren’t entirely you tonight. The thought makes your stomach twist.

Absentmindedly, you gaze down at your phone—until a notification appears, making your stomach twist.

REMINDER: YOUR TUITION PAYMENT IS PAST DUE. PLEASE SUBMIT PAYMENT IMMEDIATELY TO AVOID LATE FEES AND ACCOUNT HOLDS.

Your breath catches. Swallowing hard, you lock your phone and shove it into your pocket, willing the panic to stay buried.

“Oh? You two?”

You turn your head just in time to see Seungkwan approaching, his eyebrows raised in pleasant surprise. He’s a freshman—someone you’ve seen everywhere since the semester started. The two of you even exchanged numbers for a history class project, which led to following each other on socials, and through that, you also recognize the guy with his arm around his shoulder, exhaling a slow stream of smoke from a joint—his boyfriend.

“Seungkwan?” you blink, surprised. You hadn’t expected to see him here.

“Fancy running into you,” he says, stepping closer. “Didn’t take you guys for the frat party type.”

Soonyoung, barely processing the conversation, raises his water bottle. “We party so hard.”

You resist the urge to pinch the bridge of your nose.

Seungkwan chuckles. “Clearly.” His eyes flick between you and Soonyoung, his head tilting slightly. “Didn’t know you were a thing.”

You nearly choke on your water. “What?”

Vernon’s clearly amused. He nods toward Soonyoung’s hand—casually resting on your hip, something you hadn’t even noticed. Just muscle memory, the way he steadies himself when he’s tipsy. “Yeah, you two do kinda give off that vibe.”

Soonyoung, still blissfully unaware, just grins and squeezes your hip. “We do?”

Seungkwan nods, suddenly more interested. “Well, if you are, you have to sign up for the Valentine’s Week contest.”

You blink again. “The what?”

His face lights up as he pulls out his phone, already scrolling. “It’s this big event happening on campus. Basically, the hottest couple wins free tuition for a semester and a cash prize.” He turns his phone toward you. “Me and Nonie are thinking of signing up.”

A flyer, bright and bold—Mingyu’s Instagram story.

Hottest Couple Contest! Win Free Tuition for a Semester + $100 in Cash! Show the world you’re the ultimate campus couple through a week of exciting, romantic challenges! Sign up by Friday, February 7th. Details and Requirements below!

Soonyoung leans in over your shoulder. “What the—”

But you’re already moving, your thumb tapping the link obnoxiously decorated with fire emojis before your realise. You expect a joke, some ridiculous gimmick. Instead, a legitimate registration form loads, complete with structured rules, deadlines, and an FAQ that’s way too long.

Your heart stutters in your chest. Free tuition.

Beside you, Soonyoung hums thoughtfully. “Hottest couple, huh?” He throws an arm around your shoulder, leaning in dramatically. “We would totally win that.”

You barely hear him, your mind already spinning. Free tuition. A semester covered. No more sleepless nights spent stressing over money.

Seungkwan squints at you. “Well, are you guys actually dating?”

You don’t think. You don’t hesitate.

You meet Seungkwan’s eyes and, with a practiced ease that even surprises yourself, you say—

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?!”

The second you and Soonyoung slip past the groups of partygoers, finally finding refuge in a dimly lit hallway near the back door, you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding. The pounding bass of the music still hums through the walls, but here, away from prying eyes, you can actually think.

Soonyoung, on the other hand, looks like he just had three shots of espresso. If he was tipsy before, he suddenly looks very, very awake.

“I cannot believe this is happening,” he blurts out, pacing in a small circle before spinning back to face you. His speech is still slightly slurred, his cheeks dusted pink—though you’re not sure if that’s from the alcohol or something else. “This is, like, peak rom-com behavior. How is this even real?!”

A pang of guilt tugs at you. You did kind of throw him into this whole mess without warning, all because you saw the prize and couldn't think straight.

You stay silent for a beat before you mutter an apology. “I’m so sorry for dragging you into this. If you want, I can just… take everything back, tell Seungkwan I was too drunk to—”

You watch his face fall at your words.

“Hey, no, don’t even worry,” Soonyoung cuts in immediately, reaching for your hands. His grip is warm, firm. “I’m in, babe.”

Your eyes narrow, though you can’t help the small smile forming. “Don’t push it.”

He grins but raises his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Serious mode now. We need to see that form and strategize.”

You sigh, already pulling out your phone. “On it.” A few taps later, the contest’s official page loads up, complete with deadlines, requirements, and an aggressively detailed FAQ section. You skim through the details. “Alright… first, we have to apply. Obviously.”

Soonyoung leans in close to read over your shoulder, and you ignore how his cologne (the one you love most on him) makes your heart stutter just a tiny bit. “And then we have to complete a bunch of couple challenges throughout Valentine’s Week,” he murmurs. His gaze brightens. “OH, WAIT—LOOK! There’s a compatibility quiz! We totally got this.”

You glance at him skeptically. “You think we’d score high?”

He grins, all dimples and confidence. “Duh. I know you better than anyone.”

You roll your eyes but can’t fight the smile tugging at your lips as you slowly start filling out the form. You know he’s right.

Suddenly, Soonyoung gasps dramatically. “Oh my god. This means we have to act like a real couple. In public.”

You give him a deadpan look. “That’s literally the entire point of this contest.”

He grabs your shoulders as if this is the most important conversation of his life. “We need a story. How did we start dating? When’s our anniversary? Who confessed first?!”

You frown. “Do people really care about all that?”

“Yes!” He shakes you slightly, eyes wide. “It’s the Hottest Campus Couple Contest, not the We’ve Been Dating for Ten Minutes Contest!”

You sigh. “Okay, fine. We’ll come up with a story.”

“Right now?”

“Yes, right now.”

He claps his hands together, eyes gleaming. “Alright. I say I confessed first. Because, let’s be honest, that’s the most realistic scenario.”

You snort. “Oh? And why’s that?”

He blurts out: “Because I’d totally fall for you first.”

Silence.

The words hang between you, heavier than either of you expected.

Soonyoung’s eyes widen slightly, as if he just realized what he said. Then, he clears his throat a little too quickly and nervously giggles. “I mean—hypothetically.”

You shake your head, laughing softly. “Right. Hypothetically.”

His grin is sheepish, but his cheeks are still pink. “This is gonna be so fun.”

You glance back down at the contest page, your eyes scanning the bold letters at the top. Hottest Campus Couple Contest!

You exhale, locking your phone before sneaking a look at Soonyoung. He’s already beaming at you.

“Yeah,” you murmur, shaking your head with amusement. “It’s gonna be something, alright.”

Then you look back at the rules. “But we have to strategize properly. Looks like there are elimination rounds and a lot of details they’ll be asking for.”

Soonyoung nods solemnly, as if he’s preparing for battle. “Say no more.”

“Tomorrow. My car. Bring a notebook or... something,” you say, pointing at him.

He blinks at you, then grins. Wide. “Bossy. I like it.”

You roll your eyes and push his face away.

note: thank you for reading this (very short) part one! I'll release part two next week, so stay tuned. I'm SO back, baby!

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vagabond-umlaut · 10 months ago

Text

you kiss the back of my legs and i want to cry

only the sun has come this close, only the sun

gojo satoru x wife!reader; tooth-rotting domestic fluff; gojo LOVERBOY™️ satoru; you aren't any better than him [but less poetic abt the predicament]; tw: pregnancy, 1 tiny mention of throwing up; satoru calls you 'cookie'; and he redefines the word besotted here; his thoughts are also a little yandere-ish but tht's cute, methinks; 2.3k wc; i just wish satoru was real and in my arms rn T-T

belongs to the series 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate' but can be read as a stand-alone fic if you wanna

the fic title and summary don't rly hv a very strong connection to the fic plot— except the fact they fit both satoru's & reader's characters in this series to a tee ^_^

fic title and summary from 'gps' by shauna barbosa // header frm pinterest // divider by @/benkeibear // jjk isn't mine

you are clingy.

always have been, in fact, now that gojo thinks about it. long before the two of you were married. long before you were engaged. quite a long time before the two of you were anything apart from friends at best, acquaintances at worst.

yet now, as he feels a pair of arms squeeze tighter around his middle, not really still very much squeezing the air out of him— your husband reckons you've grown loads clingier now—

and he loves you for this. loving you even more when he feels kisses being pressed into the space between his shoulder blades.

soft lips, a tad chapped. not without the shy grazing of your teeth.

just how he likes it.

very much how he adores you.

affection, settled deeper than should be feasible into the hollow of his chest, flutters a little when you nuzzle into his back; that pleased little hum of yours quick to follow it. smiling, gojo turns his head a touch to catch a glimpse of you. it takes a beat before you remove your face to lock eyes with him, before returning your face to his back.

he huffs a chuckle, sounding incredibly fond all the same. his feelings for you can never be suppressed anyway. time has proved this to him enough number of times.

he runs a finger down the length of your arm, relishing how it leaves a line of goosebumps in its wake—

"you wanna tell me something, cookie?" your husband finally asks.

your reply doesn't come immediately. and when it does, it is nothing more than a noncommittal noise. too spoiled. too stubborn. a bit too satisfied as well, the emotion further expressed when you nuzzle his back yet again.

gojo's smile grows bigger. his cheeks hurt a little.

he thinks he can live forever with this kind of pain, not even a sigh of complaint ever leaving him.

"aha—" he exclaims loudly, still soft enough to keep the quiet of this sweet bubble you've pulled you both into, "so it's just my irresistible charm that's making you so clingy tonight, hm?"

another beat passes.

and just when he thinks he might have to do with another one of your indistinct sounds for an answer, you speak. to be more precise, whine and grumble, everything so sweet in your adorable voice.

"it's not me being clingy, 'toru— it's the baby— the baby is making me so clingy. making me feel as if i can't live even for one second without squishing you like thisss!!!"

the first reaction your tightening grasp brings out is the wind getting knocked out of his lungs— the second reaction being all that oxygen, nitrogen and carbon dioxide being replaced by a feeling so fierce and so tender— the strongest thinks his knees would have buckled under its weight had he not been lying down but standing—

not that he really minds that, though.

for you, he's always on his knees. whether you ask it of him or not. the only light in this world he is willing to bow his eyes before.

it takes him not too much effort but gojo makes a point of struggling whilst he shifts in your hold. and grins when he finally comes face-to-face with you, drinking in the way your brows are puckered and lips a little parted in an incredulous expression.

his grin simmers down however, when his six eyes notice the spark in your tummy. so tiny. so blinding. so priceless— to him and you both— he knows this, surer than he is of the scars on his palms.

thumbing the hem of your t-shirt, he hums, dragging his eyes back to be drowned in yours, "how many weeks along are you, wifey?"

"satoru," you start, voice turning sharper and just as skeptical as your face was, still is— only to be shushed by a finger to your lips. the man addressed feels his heart skip a beat at your confused big scowl— it's got to be a crime to be as cute as you— really!!!

he pinches your cheek lightly.

"it isn't like i don't remember that, cookie. i just wanted you to say it— c'mon, tell me quickly!" he presses, noting then utilising the moment your face begins to lose its cynical hue over his words.

the scowl lingers there however, twisting your delectably pretty lips—

"nine weeks," you say, hooking a leg over his waist to pull him closer. can he be any closer to you, though? your answer is always a yes, he knows you well enough to know this.

"thirty-one weeks more before we meet our baby."

it's not exactly thirty-one weeks; it's thirty weeks and five days before either of you can meet the baby, but gojo decides not to point out the error. you always hate it when he points out your tiny errors and make a point of snarking about it every time he opens his mouth to speak a word next— the man is wary not to upset his wife, yes, thank you very much.

he offers a sage "hm" in response, one he observes you accept slowly. the scowl lifts itself into a curve so fond— gojo thinks once before he vaults his next query your way. not wanting to see that smile vanish in front of him—

the ask won't cause anything so. but he can never be too sure. he has read too many books and articles to not grasp how fragile pregnancy hormones can make one be.

he tucks a strand of hair behind the shell of your ear.

fingers tarrying there when he sees you lean into his touch— not akin a moth to a bright flame, no. he can never hurt you. not even for once in his wildest dreams—

but how the north pole of a magnet hurries towards the south pole of another magnet. so different in their nature, a perfect pair of opposite crafted by the nature— maybe that's why nothing can ever stop them from rushing to each other once they're proximated, the lines of their mutual attraction existing even when thousands of miles apart.

just like you and him.

contrasting, complementing, completing each other every instant, in every facet of life.

he lets his fingers dance through the tangles in your hair, unravelling the knots in there. that pleased little hum of yours reaches him once again.

stowing the sound away, later to be placed on a pedestal in an ornate glass case as the most valuable praise ever given to him for his effort, he runs a gentle hand, nails scratching your scalp carefully.

"and at nine weeks old, just how big might our baby be?"

"i think there is a chart comparing our baby's size to fruits..." syllables unhurried and a pinch mumbled, you press your heel to draw him in a little more. "i did not really read that too attentively— oh. but. yeah!" a grin forms on your features, sleepy still twinkling in excitement.

"shoko sent me a link to this website earlier today— any ideas, 'toru, what it might be about?"

gojo does have an idea. he has a very, very good idea.

but he chooses not to say that aloud. you look so extremely adorable when you are being this excited. he would hate nothing more than to see your amped up self getting interrupted by him.

he shakes his head. your grin brightens. eyes crinkling with a glint, he can tell even without looking, is knowing.

the tips of your fingers caress his bare back, softer than a breath. "it's about when our baby forms which organs— our baby's eyes are being formed now!!! isn't that too cute, 'toru?"

"it is, cookie," he hums without any hesitation, six eyes activating one more time to zero in on that teeny-tiny spark. then deactivating when he looks back up to your sleepy eyes. a terribly tickled, equally wicked glimmer creeps into his grin. "so our baby is just like a tiny ball of cells with two big blue eyes, huh? they must look so scary, heh— ouch!"

your pinch did not really pain him, but gojo does his best to mimic an awfully wounded puppy, sogging wet from the rain and waiting at the doorstep with his moving blue eyes— it takes less than three seconds before you let go of your glare with a sigh.

you massaging the sore spot on his arm, your husband watches you give yet another sigh.

"first of all, there's no guarantee our baby will have your eye color and not mine, 'toru," you explain, pinning him under your drowsy stare, "it is very difficult to predict that for sure— and secondly: i'll punch you if you ever call our baby scary— sure, they don't really look like a human in this moment, but they'll slowly get there in forty weeks— as per the website, their face, hands and feet are forming in the ninth—"

"okay, alright!! i get your point, my insanely smart, insanely beautiful, insanely sexy wife," gojo cuts in, smiling while warning bells chime in his head at the faintest gloss in your eyes—

but maybe they weren't noisy enough. that is why he doesn't bite his tongue, rather continuing, "but you weren't actually blaming our poor human-ey baby for your clinginess, were you? it's not like they have a telepathic communication set up with you— hell, maybe they haven't even started forming their brain!"

"the baby's brain starts forming by the fifth week, satoru," your quiet reply reaches him exactly when he gets his last giggle out. the moist sheen in your eyes grows more prominent.

and his insides begin to twist—

one-third helpless. two-thirds contrite.

you don't stop talking, tone lower than he has heard you use in nearly forever, "and you better not comment on my bond with our baby— i'll punch you twice if you—"

"i wasn't doing that and i promise to never make you feel that way, my cutie-pie cookie," gojo interrupts, voice far gentler than earlier, just as low as yours, "but feel free to throw me out the house if i ever do that, even accidentally. okay?"

you're not okay.

you never are, when it comes to you being actually harsh to him, even when he's the one asking you to be— shakespeare once called love to be blind— your husband doesn't think you're blind, however. it is your well-contemplated decision to see his mistakes and see each of them as excusable, perfectly pardonable, no matter how silly or serious the world might regard them to be—

you make a noise. somewhat annoyed. unhappy too, yeah. before you push your face into the crook of his neck, nose nuzzling into the flesh there.

you would have bitten him by now. but he reckons you might be a bit too tired for all that. you couldn't even finish your dinner before facing the urge to throw up tonight, yet again.

feeling sorry, almost, gojo resumes his ministrations to your hair, half because you need to fall asleep now; the hands on the clock are close to striking midnight. the other half because he just loves playing with your hair— only to still when you suddenly pull your head back.

brows furrowed as you peer at him, eyes big and earnest.

"you don't really mind when i hug you like this, do you, 'toru?"

"no, cookie!! of course not!!" the man wastes not even a breath before he rushes to explain— because seriously, what!??

sure, he wasn't the first one to fall between you two. but ever since he did fall, he has never not expressed how every second away from you, every fraction of an instant away from you, causes him pain.

and yeah, he might have been a tad too dramatic whilst doing so, but you've always been so good at reading him— then why on earth can't you read him now? why don't you read, he loves it when you seek him out, he loves you more than anyone and anything else??

"good," your satisfied little chirp gives him a light shove away from his frantic thoughts. something tells him he should be put on alert by the way your lips curve into a smug smile next.

but gojo finds himself uncaring. just immensely relieved as he trails his fingers from the back of your head to your chin. thumb reaching out to brush the corner of your infectious smile. you continue.

"but even if you did mind, sorry not sorry— you were the one who put the ring on my finger, so you have to deal with everything i'm, mister!! no refunds nor complaints can be filed here, gojo-san~"

and neither refunds nor complaints he wishes to file, satoru muses to himself as he cups your cheek in one hand. bending down to steal the taste of your beam, your tease, your love for him on his tongue—

not when he has received the world in exchange for letting go of that poor splintered mess of a heart, he used to call his, but is now yours.

and will always stay yours—

"hey 'toru— what will you do if i chomp on your fingers right now, like really hard? will you yell? or will you be the freak that you're and enjoy it, huh?"

gojo pauses.

and wonders.

is there any binding vow one can make to secure oneself to another in every lifetime, for all eternity?

he hopes there is.

your husband really, seriously hopes there is—

'cause no way in heaven, earth or hell, does gojo satoru want to let go of you— and he will not let go of you.

this idea was ROTTING in my brain for ages, but wht gave me the spark– the boost to write this was the wonderful sukuna fic written by ari @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat ❤️❤️❤️ i seriously love u & ur writings sm, babes 🥹🥹 everyone pls go check their masterlist out. it's studded w diamonds and pearls 😌😌🥰

and this is also for my sweet & sour bestie mimi @avatarofstars 🤭🤭— u 🤝 me in being clingy af towards our fictional hubbies 😂😂🥰

hope this was an enjoyable read! pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this ❤️❤️

masterlist

#gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #kit posts 📝

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moroniccats · 2 months ago

Text

Ok so as much as I love Holmes x Watson, aro-ace Holmes and platonic life partner Watson will forever have a special place in my heart. I genuinely had this conversation with my my mom when I was 15:

Me: but I don’t want to get married

Mom: yes you will. If Sherlock Holmes was real, wouldn’t you marry him?

Me: no. And he doesn’t like romance either. He doesn’t have a love interest.

Mom: well, I’m sure he got lonely, when he had no one else there.

Me: yes he did. He had Watson.

#sherlock holmes #acd holmes #acd canon #acd sherlock #acd sherlock holmes #dr watson #john watson #aromantic #aroace #asexual

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covenofagatha · 3 months ago

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could you write something about divorced reader and agatha? them being mothers to a child, both decided to put what happened that lead to the divorce aside and keep communicating to each other as to try and keep a health relationship with their kid. they think their kid deserves to have both mothers present in his or her life.

then one day agatha discovers that reader is planning to go on a date, meaning she's trying to move on with her life. agatha is furious (in the jealous way), they argue a lot, it's very angst, full of emotions, they end up fucking and in the end they talk to each other about trying to restart things to be together again. they know it's not going to be easy but they realize their feelings for each other are still there. thank you!! (if you could angst and nsfw)

Okay this is genuinely one of my favorite things i've ever written so I really hope everyone likes it

Also my first time writing real angst so hopefully it wasn't terrible

Title is from a Taylor Swift song

That's when

Word count: 6100

Warnings: angst, smut, hate sex, fingering, scratching, biting

Going to be a few minutes late to pick-up today, got caught up at work.

The text from your ex-wife makes you chuckle humorlessly. Of course she did.

“What’s wrong, Mama?” You look up from your phone at the four year old bundle of joy you and Agatha shared.

You give him a smile. “Nothing, Nicky. Mommy’s just going to be a little late today.” He shrugs and goes back to playing with his toys.

You can’t stop the twinge of bitterness growing in your chest as you give a thumbs to the message, not even giving her a dignified response.

Was it stupid to think that anything would change?

When you and Agatha had first gotten married, you saw forever with her. She made you happier than you had ever been, and there was nothing she wouldn’t do for you. She always knew how to make you laugh and feel loved, and she was such an amazing partner.

Plus the sex was mind blowing. She made you feel things you didn’t even know it was possible to feel. The older woman knew exactly what you needed all the time and it was like your body had been made for her.

A year into the marriage, you both decided you wanted to have a child. Agatha carried the baby, using a donation from a sperm center, and then Nicholas was born.

The moment you first saw Agatha holding him in the hospital room, your heart exploded with all the love in the world. You had kissed Agatha’s sweaty lips and told her that you loved her and Nicky more than life itself and that nothing was ever going to change that. She had told you that everything she’d ever wanted was right here in this room.

And for the first few years, things were really good.

Agatha went back to work after her maternity leave ended, so you stayed home with Nicky. Some days were harder than others, but Agatha always made sure to come home as soon as possible to give you a break. She would cook dinner for everyone and after Nicky went to bed, she would hold you on the couch and the two of you would just soak each other in.

But then, after Nicky had turned three, something started to change. He was in his toddler phase, so being home with him all day started to take a toll on you. Agatha would come home and find you absolutely exhausted, but at that point, she was moving up higher on the corporate ladder, so she was tired too. It felt like a distance had grown between you, and you didn’t know what was happening.

She started to stay late at work, the need to become a partner at her law firm becoming all-consuming.

You still remember the first time it happened, the first time you tucked in Nicky alone, his big, sad, brown eyes looking up at you and asking why Mommy didn’t want to come home and see him.

Your heart had clenched and you had to blink back tears before telling him that she was just busy at work and would come in and kiss him goodnight when she was able to.

That had been the first fight of many about it with your wife.

You had told her that she wasn’t putting her family first. She had told you that you weren’t giving her enough credit for everything she was doing for you and Nicky. You had told her that all you wanted was for her to be here to tuck your child in. She had told you that you weren’t being fair or understanding about her job.

Agatha had slept on the couch that night and was gone before you woke up the next morning.

Deep down, you could tell it was going to be the beginning of the end if something didn’t change.

So you tried to. You tried to control your anger whenever she was late, you tried to make the best of it for you and Nicky. Bedtimes became a special thing for the two of you, when you would read him a story and kiss his forehead and then slip out once he drifted off to sleep.

He stopped asking where Agatha was entirely.

Occasionally a tense comment would escape from you when she got home an hour or two later and it would turn into an argument.

That arrangement went on for almost a year, but fights were getting more common between the two of you. She made you feel crazy for being upset, which in turn, only made you more upset.

One time, you told her that she needed to make more of an effort or else and she had scoffed. You had seen red and gotten in her face and you were almost yelling when she shoved you against the wall and shut you up by furiously kissing you. Her fingers had slipped down into your pants and she fucked you for the first time in months.

You didn’t know hate sex could be so hot.

After that, things seemed to be getting better and you thought that maybe the two of you had just needed to blow off steam. Your sex life certainly seemed to be back on track.

And then it was Nicky’s fourth birthday.

Agatha and you had planned a big party and invited all the kids from his daycare to your house for pizza, cake, and a bounce house. It was the first time in a while that you actually felt like your marriage was on steady ground, like you were on the same page again.

You remember smiling at her in the kitchen while hanging streamers and thinking that everything was going to be okay, because you loved her and more importantly, she loved you.

But then she got a phone call and your heart dropped when she left the room to take it.

When she came back in five minutes later, a pained expression on her face, you felt nauseous. Of course.

“It’s just going to be a short thing,” she had promised, and you had begged her not to go. It was Nicky’s birthday, he needed both of his moms and it was her day off. You told her that if she left, you didn’t think you could ever forgive her.

She left anyway, vowing to be back within an hour.

You weren’t even upset this time. You were just numb.

The party went by in a blur and it didn’t even feel like you were present in your body. The only thing you remember was finding Nicky sitting under the table while all his friends ran around the yard and crouching down to ask him what was wrong.

And he had looked up at you, bottom lip quivering, and told you that the only thing he wanted for his birthday was for Mommy to not have to work so much so that the three of you could be together again.

You had to turn your head and bite onto your finger so you wouldn’t cry in front of him, barely holding it together while you consoled him and promised that Agatha would be back soon.

Except an hour passed, and she wasn’t back yet.

The party ended another hour after that and she still wasn’t home.

After you had rocked a sobbing Nicky to sleep that night, you had gone downstairs, poured yourself a generous glass of wine, and sat by the fireplace, waiting for Agatha.

And finally, at a quarter until ten, the front door swung open. Your wife crept in, gently setting her keys down so as to not cause a disturbance, and then turned to go upstairs.

“You said an hour,” you said in a shockingly calm voice, startling her, making her freeze. She launched into an excuse about getting a new case and it was a really big one and she couldn’t get away, but you had cut her off and told her that you didn’t want to hear it. Thus started your biggest fight yet.

You called her selfish and told her that she was being a bad mother to her child, she told you that you couldn’t possibly understand what it was like for her because you didn’t have a job. You had argued that it shouldn’t matter, that she needed to sort out her priorities, and she said that you needed to stop nagging and accept that she was an integral part of her company now.

“You’re also an integral part of this family,” you had snapped. “Nicky needs both his moms. He was crying today because you weren’t there, Agatha. He said all he wanted was for you to work less. You need to fix this.”

She had just stared at you like she didn’t understand what you were saying. “I’m so close to having everything I want. Just give me a few more months.” That was like a stab in the heart.

“A few more months until what? Until you become a partner and have to work even more?” Tears were streaming down your face in the flicker of the fire. “Since when is this not everything you want? Since when are me and Nicky not enough?” Your voice had broken at the end but you didn’t care.

A hint of pain appeared on her face but she had hardened. “I have to do this. You can either stand by my decision or not.”

To this day, you don’t even remember squeezing the wine glass so hard that it shattered, but the next thing you knew, there was a sharp pain in your palm. You had looked down to see shards embedded in your skin, but the blood made you eerily calm. The wound was almost a wake-up call, a physical manifestation of what she was doing to your family.

You met her eyes again. “I’m not going to stand by it. I’m done, Agatha. I’m not going to put Nicky or myself through this torture anymore.”

You could tell that she wasn’t expecting it; she opened her mouth to say something but you had breezed by her to go upstairs, feeling lighter than you had in awhile.

You had called a lawyer the next day. A small part of you kept hoping that she would promise to do better and beg to work it out. You would’ve called it off in a heartbeat.

But she didn’t.

The divorce was simple, for the most part. You had both agreed that you wanted it to be painless for Nicky so you decided that you would be civil and put your problems aside for his sake. He deserved to have both his mothers in his life, and the two of you were going to make that happen as cordially as possible.

Nicky took the news about as well as any four year old would, but you both assured him that you loved him very much and that this wasn’t a bad thing.

Things were awkward at first, especially Sundays at six when she would pick him up from you and vice versa. You didn’t know how to talk to the woman you swore you’d die with anymore, but four months in now, it’s gotten easier.

There’s light conversation now, maybe even some casual joking. But it always ends the same way: a terse smile, a kiss on Nicky’s cheek, and then a strained wave before the door closes.

You miss her, though. The way she smelled when you cuddled with her, the way her lips felt tracing your skin, the way she would laugh at some stupid joke you made.

You try to ignore the pang in your heart whenever Nicky talks about her. It’s honestly been good for their relationship, now she has to make time for him because she doesn’t have you to depend on.

If only she could’ve done that four months ago.

And yet, it seems like she’s still putting work first, if being late today is any indication.

“Mommy says we’re gonna go to the park tomorrow!” Nicky squeals, jolting you out of your acrimonious thoughts.

You look back at your son. “Oh, yeah? That will be a lot of fun, won’t it?”

He nods. “She’s gonna push me on the swings! I went so high last time I almost touched space. It was so cool.”

��Wow, Nicky!” You exclaim, laughing despite yourself. “You better be careful though. I’d miss you too much if you went to space.”

He frowns, deep in thought. “I’d miss you and Mommy. Maybe you could both come!” His face brightens like he just told you a million-dollar idea.

“Whatever you want, baby,” you say softly, leaning over to tousle his hair, and the doorbell rings. Every time she does that instead of just walking in, it feels strange. This used to be the home you two shared. You give Nicky a tight smile. “Go get your stuff.” He runs up to his room and you go answer the door. Agatha looks as good as ever and you swallow hard. You knew the whole thing was going to be tough, but you didn’t think being so close to her but somehow so far away at the same time would be the worst part.

“Sorry I’m late,” your ex-wife says, sounding genuinely apologetic. You shrug, not wanting to start anything.

“Don’t worry about it. Nicky’s just grabbing his stuff.” Except it’s taking longer than you thought, so the two of you are just stuck standing there, trying to avoid eye contact. Some pick-ups are better than others.

“Um, so how are things? How have you been?” Agatha asks.

“Oh, yeah, good. You know, starting to look for a job just to have something to do. Maybe down at the community center,” you tell her. She nods interestedly.

“That would be good, yeah,” she says. She’s clearly racking her brain for more small talk to make.

“And you?” You ask before the silence gets too much to bear again.

She looks at you like she’s trying to figure out what to say. Her work has become sort of a sore subject to talk about, especially now. “I actually just made partner,” she says finally.

“Oh, wow, congratulations.” It sounds hollow even to your ears. “So, um–” You start a sentence before knowing where it’s going, but thankfully, Nicky runs downstairs at that very moment.

“Hi Mommy!” He cries out, sprinting over and almost knocking the wind out of her when he barrels into her with a hug. She takes a step back when she absorbs the hit and you instinctively reach a hand out to grab onto her to keep her balanced.

Her eyes meet yours, a jolt running through you when you realize this is the first time in four months that you’ve actually touched her.

You yank your hand back before you get too carried away in your thoughts.

“There’s my little prince,” Agatha says, ruffling his hair, still looking at you. “Did you have a good week?”

He lifts his head to peer up at her and she finally breaks away from your stare. “It was fun! Jack let me have some of his chips.” You chuckle, remembering the day he had come home from daycare and happily told you that he had made a new friend. Agatha quizzically glances at you and you shake your head fondly.

“Wow, well I can’t wait to hear all about it,” she says, matching his energy, and you feel your throat pinch. Despite everything, Agatha was a great mom when she was around. “Alright, are you ready to go? I’m thinking we can get pizza for dinner?”

“Yes!” Nicky pumps his fist and lets go of her to throw his arms around you. “Bye, Mama. I’ll see you next week.”

You lean down and kiss his cheek. “Have a great week, okay, baby?” He nods, eyes sparkling like they always do.

You stand back up and Agatha gives you a smile before leading Nicky back to her car. Watching them drive away tugs at your stomach like it always does, and when you can no longer see them, you go back inside to the empty house.

Grief rolls over you in waves sometimes when you’re alone, and this is one of those times. It’s like you’re being pulled under the surface if you think too hard about what it used to be like before things started getting bad.

This home used to be full of love and warmth and happiness.

Now it’s a cold, vacant shell of memories. Even the silence feels too loud as you walk to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of wine.

You drink a lot more when Nicky is with Agatha, and you find yourself wondering if she’s as affected as you are.

Doubt it, you snort. She’s probably living her best life on her off-week, when she can come home at whatever time she wants and doesn’t have a nagging wife to answer to.

You settle on the couch, glass in hand, and scroll through your phone. You down it quickly, and then another, and you decide to keep going. It doesn’t take long at all before you’re absolutely hammered.

Fuck Agatha. Fuck her for choosing her job over you and Nicky. Fuck her for tearing your family apart. You would’ve been so happy with her. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with her.

And now, what? You’re just supposed to start over? With some random woman? Supposed to go on first dates again, and talk about your favorite color, while the person who you loved the most and knew everything about you ripped out your heart?

Fuck Agatha.

And then you get a genius idea. Maybe you should date. It could be meaningless, just a way for some company, maybe even sex.

You’ve been waiting, hoping, for Agatha to change her mind. But she’s a partner at her firm now.

She’s made her choice.

Giggling out loud to yourself, you download Tinder and set up a profile. You scroll through your camera roll and are depressed when there’s mostly only pictures of you and Agatha, you and Nicky, or the three of you together.

So you take some. Selfies have never been your thing, but in your drunken state, you have never been more confident. Some of the pictures you take are soft, some are a bit sexier, some are neutral.

You upload them all, set the location for within five miles, and get to swiping.

At first, it feels wrong, like you’re cheating on Agatha. When you get nervous, you still find yourself fiddling with the spot where her ring used to be, because it used to bring you comfort. The imprint she has on your soul will forever be there, you think.

But it’s done.

You steel your nerves and keep going, but no one is catching your eye. You frown, disgruntled, until finally you get to an attractive woman.

Rio. 41. Loves nature and witchy things.

You click through her pictures and are intrigued. You have a thing for brunettes, and her brown eyes are pretty pools of honey with a knowing look in them. There’s something intense about her, but you can’t ignore how hot she is.

Before you can think twice, you swipe right and your stomach lurches when it says you have a match.

Heart racing, you tap on the message icon, staring at the page. Do you make the first move or wait?

The alcohol decides for you.

Hey. You hit send and immediately inwardly kick yourself. What a stupid thing to say.

You turn off your phone and pinch the bridge of your nose until it buzzes in your lap. You look down and find that Rio replied.

Nice pictures.

You squint and click back to your profile, and attempt to really study them with a clear head. Turns out, all of them are blurry and it’s incredibly hard to make out any distinct features. You raise your phone again to take a new one and this time, you make sure that it’s clear before sending it straight to her with the message: Sorrrry i’m drung

It’s wrong, but you don’t care enough to correct it.

Wow, doll. I’m glad you posted the blurry ones because you are too hot for anyone else to see.

A blush spreads through your cheeks. It’s the first time you’ve been flirted with in ages. Feeling emboldened, you send a flirty text back.

You keep talking for hours, until as you’re dozing off, she texts and asks you if you want to get dinner tomorrow night.

The question is like a bucket of cold water being thrown on you and you start to panic. Thoughts of Agatha swirl in your mind, meeting her in a cafe, your first date, the first time she touched you, her proposing, her on your wedding day, her and Nicky in the hospital the day he was born –

– her working late, making Nicky cry, making you tuck in your child alone and explaining that of course Mommy still loves him and she’s just really busy, making you wait up to see her, breaking your heart a million times over again because she refused to change.

You exhale slowly.

I’d love to. You type back, and you turn off your phone before you can second guess yourself.

You fall asleep on the couch, phone still in hand, a war being waged in your heart.

The next morning, you’re awoken by your phone buzzing. You groan and hold it up in front of your face to find Agatha calling you.

“Hello?” You say groggily, rubbing your head.

You can tell she’s in the car by the loud sounds. Probably on her way to work. You roll your eyes, and then feel guilty. “Hey, Nicky realized that he left his pair of flip flops at yours and I was going to take him to the pool tomorrow. Can I come stop by this afternoon and pick them up?”

You raise an eyebrow. “The pool on a Tuesday?” Who is this woman, and what has she done with your ex-wife?

“I know, I know,” Agatha chuckles and it’s nice to hear her laugh. “I took off the afternoon because he’s been wanting to go swimming. Thought it would be a nice surprise.”

You try to ignore the effort she’s putting in now versus when you were married. “Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll be here pretty much all day. Just text first.” You don’t mention the date with Rio, you don’t even wait for her to respond before hanging up.

Trying to push Agatha and Rio out of your mind, you go take a shower to wash the smell of alcohol off you, and then run some errands. Grocery shopping is always easier when it’s your off-week but you still find yourself reaching for Froot Loops and Dinosaur nuggets.

It’s about four in the afternoon when Agatha texts you that she’s on her way. You’re in denial about why you make sure your hair looks nice or you put on a bit of makeup, but it’s the first time you and Agatha have been alone since the divorce.

Not that that has any correlation.

And then the doorbell rings and your palms start to sweat.

You swing the door open to find her leaned against the pillar outside, wearing a suit that has your chest squeezing. It’s your favorite, the maroon one that hugs her curves perfectly and the one she’s fucked you in more times than you can count.

Agatha doesn’t wait for you to invite her, just walks in and up the stairs to Nicky’s room. You chase after her.

“I’m surprised you’re not working right now,” you say, and she gives you a warning look.

“I’m a partner now,” she answers, rummaging through Nicky’s closet to find his shoes. “I can delegate the busy work to others in the office.”

You hum and reach around her to pull his flip-flops off a shelf and hold them up to her. You organized his room, you know where everything is.

“Thanks,” she says, taking them, standing up, and awkwardly waiting for you to move first.

You glance around the room to see if there’s anything else he would need for swimming. “Does he have his swim suit?”

“I have a few pairs for him,” she replies, watching you carefully. You tuck your hair behind your ear, another nervous habit.

“Well, guess he should be all set then.” You clap your hands together and she smiles sadly and walks out of the room. She pauses in the hallway next to your room, the room you used to share, and your breath catches, but she keeps moving toward the stairwell.

“Do you, uh,” Agatha starts, turning around when she gets to the kitchen. You freeze. “Maybe want to have a drink or dinner or do something tonight? Nicky has a playdate with one of his friends, so it’ll just be me. Figured we could both use the company.”

“I actually have plans,” you say carefully. Part of you wants to cancel with Rio, but you know you shouldn’t. This could be good for you.

Agatha raises an eyebrow. “Working late?” She jokes, although it doesn’t land how she wants it and you both know it.

“I have a date.”

And it’s like all the air has been sucked out of the room. You see the exact moment Agatha’s face changes, becomes darker almost.

“What?” She growls. “With who?”

You chew on your lip until she asks again. “I went on Tinder last night.” You don’t offer more than that, but her lip curls and you can tell that she’s angry.

“So now you’re just whoring yourself out online?” She spits and your blood boils. “You were going to, what, bring some slut to the house my child sleeps in?”

“He’s not here this week, Agatha,” you remind her and she scoffs like it doesn’t matter. “You haven’t been on a date yet?” Now that’s a surprise to you.

She rolls her eyes. “Of course not. I’m too-“

“Busy? Yeah, tell me about it,” you cut her off, poison dripping in your tone and she fixes you with a glare, throwing her hands up in the air.

“Don’t even fucking go there,” she warns. “That’s what this is always about with you. I’m so fucking sorry that I was ambitious and wanted more.” The sarcasm hits you like a brick and you grit your teeth.

“It was about more than that and you know it,” you snarl. “You constantly neglected Nicky and I, you put everything else above us. You weren’t there for your own son’s birthday party, so fucking sue me for going on a date. We’re divorced, I can do whatever the fuck I want. At least she won’t completely ignore me.”

It’s the wrong thing to say and you know it the second it leaves your mouth. She explodes. “Ignore you? I didn’t ignore you, do you even hear yourself? I tried to be there for you, I really did, and now you’re just throwing that away. I was doing the best I could, I was under so much stress with my job and then a toddler, I was fucking drowning.”

“Why didn’t you talk to me then?” You cry out, digging your nails into your palms. “You could’ve told me how you were struggling instead of just fighting with me! And I’m not throwing it away now, Aggie, you were the one who did that when you gave me that ultimatum.” You can hear her breath suck in when you call her that nickname and tears prick your eyes. How did you two get here?

“I didn’t think you would just give up,” she says, voice strangled, and a weight comes crashing down on you.

“What?” You whisper, and for the first time, you can see that the older woman is affected too, hurting.

She wipes her eyes and sniffs. “I didn’t think you would just walk away like you did. I thought you’d say that we could work it out, like you always do.”

And then you get it. That night, she wanted you to cave again. She thought you would give in and let her get away with it. Like you always did. “Stop,” you say coldly and she looks at you with surprise. “You don’t get to manipulate me anymore and turn this on me. I tried so hard to fix this and to be okay with it, but you were never going to change. Except now you have, for Nicky. So what, was I just not worth it?”

“Do you know how many times I wish I had changed? I should have listened, I’m sorry,” she says, and you wish you could believe it.

“It doesn’t matter now. I’m going on this date and you should go,” you snap. You start to walk out of the kitchen and to the front door when her hand shoots out and grabs your wrist. You move your arm, trying to get free, but she yanks you back against her, your chest colliding with hers.

You lose the ability to breathe and you try to avoid looking at her lips as she walks you backwards until you hit the wall.

“Tell me you don’t still think about me,” she hisses into your ear. “Tell me you don’t miss the way I made you moan louder than anyone else ever has. Tell me you don’t miss the way I fuck you.”

Your nose twitches in anger and you lean in closer to her. “I don’t,” you glower, even though it’s not the truth at all. She knows it too. Her grip on your arm tightens.

“Really?” Her voice is slippery smooth now, dropping an octave to the tone that always made your stomach heat up. “When you’re alone in this big house, you don’t think about my fingers or my mouth or my cock, fucking you the way only I can?”

You shiver, body betraying you. But you hold your ground and deny it again.

Her other hand comes up and pulls your hair, forcing your head to the side, and she puts her face next to your ear. “You forget, baby, I know what it looks like when you lie.” Her tongue licks your earlobe and you bite back a moan.

It’s been so long, too long, since you’ve been touched. You’d have this reaction if it was anyone else, you tell yourself.

“Do you really think that Tinder slut can fuck you right? Let me tell you a secret,” she says dangerously, one hand sliding down your body and stopping at the waistband of your shorts, giving you ample time to stop her. You don’t and she smirks, knowing she’s won. “She can’t. Only I can.”

Her fingers dip inside and cup you over your underwear and your mind goes blank.

“You’re telling me that you don’t think about me while you’re this wet? You’re an even worse liar than I remember,” she taunts, but you don’t care.

You need this too bad.

“Shut up and fuck me,” you bark, moving your hips over her hand, trying to get any kind of stimulation you can. She doesn’t give you what you want.

“Tell me the truth,” she coos.

You’re so angry right now, but you also haven’t felt this alive in four months, so you drag her in for a bruising kiss. Her teeth clash against yours and she practically shoves her tongue down your throat and roughly bites your lower lip. You moan into her mouth and rip your arm free out of her grasp so you can scramble to get her suit jacket off.

Figures this would be happening while she’s wearing that.

You claw at her bare shoulders, making sure to rake your nails across her skin and she hisses with pain, so you do it again. She trails her lips down and sinks her teeth in hard to the juncture between your shoulder and neck. You yelp but it quickly turns into a moan when she moves your underwear to the side and shoves two fingers inside your waiting cunt.

Agatha’s head drops back as your eyes roll in your head. “Fuck, baby girl, I’ve missed this,” she sighs and you pull her to you urgently for another kiss, needing to make up for lost time.

It’s like nothing changed at all, and yet everything has, when she sets the same familiar fast pace from all those times before.

“She’s not gonna know what you need,” Agatha pants against your lips, thumb roughly swiping at your clit, pulling frantic gasps from your mouth. “Only I do. God, I’ve missed your cunt. Say it.”

“I’ve missed your fingers,” you finally give in and groan.

She thrusts them particularly hard and it has you clenching around her, biting onto her shoulder.

“And?” She urges.

“I’ve missed you,” you whimper, and she rewards you with a twist of her digits that has you groaning.

“Good girl,” she moans. “I’ve missed you, too.” Her admission sounds choked, and it makes the fire only burn brighter in your stomach.

And you want more. “Tell me you think about me,” you beg, and she raises an eyebrow, stopping her thrusts to fit a third finger into you. She curls them and you whine.

“I fucking think about you all the time,” she says like it pains her. “I miss you so fucking much.” Your breaths are intermingling with how close you are and you lift a leg up so she can get in deeper.

“I think about you too and I fucking hate it,” you snarl witheringly and she just chuckles and scissors her fingers inside you, effectively cutting your words off for a second. “You’re always on my mind and I can’t get you out of it.”

You’re getting closer and you know she can tell by the way your walls are fluttering around her.

“Tell me you still want me,” she orders and you keen, hands grappling around her to pull her even closer if it’s possible. You’ve missed her so much, the way she feels against you. Everything feels right again.

You’re clenching, getting tenser, and you know you’re about to cum. But she slows her movements and you think you could cry.

“Tell me the truth and I’ll keep going,” she says, voice getting softer. Tears form in your eyes and you know that you’re about to change anything.

You press your lips to hers and then pull back. “I still want you, Aggie, I still fucking love you so much.”

And her eyes get a feral look in them that you’ve rarely seen, even when she gets most possessive.

“Say it again,” she demands, voice low, as she starts fucking you roughly again.

“I love you, I still love you,” you practically sob and she kisses you harder than she ever has.

“I still love you too,” she says into your open mouth, and you cum all over her fingers.

She gently thrusts into you while you come down from one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had.

“I should’ve made more time for you and Nicky,” Agatha says softly. “I’m sorry, baby. I went too far and I wasn’t listening but I promise, I want to do better this time. Please, just give me another chance.”

This is the first time you’ve ever believed her. You’ve already seen what she’s doing when she has Nicky. And to be honest, you don’t think you’ll ever stop loving her.

“Are you sure?” You ask, just needing to be certain. “We have a lot to work on.”

She nods. “I know, baby girl. But I love you and these last four months have been hell. I know it won’t be easy but I want to make this work. For you and for Nicky.”

Overwhelmed, you pull her in for a long hug, finally admitting to yourself how much you need her. It felt like there was a piece missing from you, and you just got it back.

“Okay,” you say and you feel her smile against your cheek. “Let’s do it.”

She kisses you so sweetly it reminds you of your wedding day and then breaks it to laugh happily.

“So what now?” You ask.

She smirks. “I think you have a date to cancel.”

#agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness smut #agatha smut #agatha all along

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