#hold on give me a minute i am experiencing an Emotion
Note
angsty fight between miguel and wife!reader
and then they make up yayayayay
Give Me Reasons We Should Be Complete
✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader
✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel has been pushing you away for some time now. After a talk with a friend, you and Miguel try to sort things out.
✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “DANCING IN THE DARK” by Joji. Writing this made me think back on past crushes/lovers. But thank you for your request! I am also holding back on writing smut because it keeps getting labeled and it takes me longer to write.
✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 1.4k
✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, angst-to-fluff, swearing, Miguel is kinda a dick head, mentions of sleep deprivation…
Want more Miguel content? Check out my MASTERLIST!
You stood in his cold and dark office. The best source of light was his laptop but his huge frame blocked most of the light. You managed around the crumbled paper and thrown desk objects with a plate in hand.
“Miguel?” You peer over his shoulder, “I made you dinner.”
He nods.
“You know you haven’t eaten since yesterday.”
He nods again.
“And you know that you’ve been here for a long time. I think it’s best for you to-”
“Take a break?” Miguel interrupts you, “I don’t have time for that.”
“Miguel, I’m sure whatever it is, it can wait a few minutes. All I’m asking is for you to eat something.” You try to set the plate down.
“I thought I made it clear that I do not want to be bothered. You’re distracting me. Leave.”
He didn’t mean it like that… He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it like that…
“But Mig-”
“I said go.” He growls, his eyes turning its blood red from anger, “You’re becoming a nuisance.”
He didn’t mean it like that.
“Okay.” You tried not to let the crack in your voice show. You didn’t even bother to leave the plate behind because you knew it was going to be wasted.
“And don’t bother me again.” You heard him say as you left his office.
You took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down before you burst into tears. But your hands shook, nearly dropping the plate.
You choked down your sobs and let your tears fall, the plate was left in the fridge, and you pushed yourself to your bedroom. It was basically yours now since Miguel was sleeping in his office.
The sheets no longer lingered on his cologne and any sign of his presence was gone, other than his clothing and a few photos. The room has become a mess of discarded clothing, old plates and cups, and candy wrappers.
How long has it been since Miguel showed affection? Or even looked at you?
This was normal behavior for Miguel, right? You should know, you’re married to him. You’re his wife. But he experienced loss, unlike you. You didn’t want to judge him for how he deals with his emotions, he’s emotionally distant. You knew that from the start.
And because of this, you felt like he deserved more than what you could give him. It’s what kept you going through the many times Miguel tore your heart, how it squeezed in pain at his actions and words. How you look the other way and ignore his hurtful words.
You couldn’t sleep. You left the still cold bed and dressed in something warm and headed up to the roof.
You sat on the edge, looking at Nueva York. How beautiful it looked during the night, which is one of the reasons why you liked sitting up here.
“Sitting all by yourself?” You tense up only to relax when you know that voice, “At this time? All alone?” Peter B. lands next to you, his daughter in his arms.
“I would ask my husband to join me but he’s too busy.” You respond truthfully.
“Again? He’s been at this all week.” He sits next to you.
“Yeah.” You huff.
“And… how are you holding up?”
“I’m fine.”
“Really? Because it doesn’t look like it.” He offers Mayday who reaches out to you.
You take her and set her down on your lap, “I just don’t know what to do, everything I do seems to bother Miguel. Checking up on him, bringing him food. It feels like he’s doing this on purpose.”
“Miguel’s always been difficult and from the time I spent with him… He’s different, not like the rest of us. He’s accepted his fate as Spider-Man and believes he’s destined for bad things 24/7. But good things do come along, like you. I think… I think he’s trying to come to terms that he can get it because he deserves it.”
Mayday coos, pulling at your hair, “And I think Miguel is scared. He puts on his tough act because he has to, yet he’s afraid to admit he’s scared. Normally, people would’ve given up on him. Why haven’t you?
“Till death do us part. I don’t want to lose him. I don’t give up on him because when you love someone, you love them every single day as who they are.”
“Talk about romantic.”
“Oh please.” You look down at Mayday, “Plus I think-”
“There you are.” You jump and this time, you remain tense, “I was looking for you.”
“Now you’re looking for me?” You respond, refusing to turn your head.
“It’s late, (Y/n). It’s dangerous.”
“I’m here, she’s alright.” Mayday jumps into her father’s arms.
“I’ve already had enough of you. Please, (Y/n).”
“It’s fine.” You tell him, following Miguel inside.
You head to the bedroom, “Where are you going?”
“Bed.”
“(Y/n)-”
“I’m tired and I do not want to be bothered. That includes you too, Miguel.”
“Excuse me?” He follows you into the bedroom.
“You heard me.”
“Please, (Y/n), talk to me.” Miguel begs.
“I’m sorry, did you just say talk? Like I have been trying to do for the past week?”
“(Y/n)-”
“You know what? No, no. You do not get to try to get me to talk after all of this. I have been trying, I have been all in. All I asked of you was to look after yourself.”
“I know.”
“You know? You KNOW?” You scoff rather loudly, “Did you know that Lyla has even talked to me about your behavior? I’m worried about you Miguel. All the damn time, even more when I see you not eating and staying up all night. All I ask is one minute, one bite of the damn food.”
“I’m… I’m so sorry.”
“Is sorry all you have to say? Not even a half assed excuse?” You see Miguel trying to form a sentence but nothing leaves his left and his head hangs low, “I need to be alone.”
You walk past him but he grabs your arm, “Please don’t leave.” He says, “Please don’t walk out that door.”
“I’m sleeping on the couch, you could have the bed.” You look up at him.
“I love you, (Y/n). I know I don’t say it as much but I fucking love you. He’s right, you know. I am scared. Scared of everything. Because at first, I didn’t think I could have that, have you. You let me hurt you and that is unforgivable.”
He’s crying. Looking right at you, letting himself be bare right in front of you. His grip on your arm loosens and his hands come up to your face, cupping your cheeks. You could hear his staggered breathing, trying to keep himself composed.
“But I wasn’t lying when I said I love you, I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted a family, and I wasn’t lying when I said that you make me believe in love.”
“I’m always here for you, Miguel. You don’t have to go through things alone, but when you want to, I’m here.” You take one of his hands into yours, pulling it away from your face but keeping a tight hold on it.
“It’s not that easy. I hurt you, I understand why you don’t want to.”
“I love you, Miguel. We’ll work on this. I promise you.” After a moment, Miguel practically tackles you, nearly falling to the ground. The hug is tight and warm, and you could feel your shirt become wet with Miguel’s tears.
“You’re okay, right?” His voice cracks as he speaks through his sobs, “Please tell me you’re okay.”
“I promise you, I am okay.” You whisper.
“I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”
“You can start by getting some rest. But you’ve got a lot of apologies O’Hara.”
You don’t know how long you and Miguel stayed like this, nor did you care. All you cared about was Miguel and he felt complete at last.
© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform with permission.
#x reader#x female reader#fluff#angst#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara#spider man x reader#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman x you#spiderman 2099#spiderman x y/n#spider man across the spider verse#spider man 2099#spiderverse#spider man x y/n#spider man x you#spiderman x reader
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Hi, love your writing! I have a request where reader and Jenna are in a long distance relationship and reader decides to surprise Jenna after hearing Jenna’s been having a tough week filming or something. Just something along those lines haha
a flight away
Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader
Summary: ^^ request!!!
Words: 3.1k
Warnings: bittersweet
a/n: first of all,, thank you so much!!!! and second of all, ill try my best! hope this is to ur liking anon
masterlist
You didn't know what you were getting into the first thing in the morning when you checked your phone at exactly 6:34 AM.
Normally, you'd do the routine where you stare at your wallpaper (it was a picture of Jenna) for a good 20 minutes before internally dying inside because of why should she be such a hardworking woman to the point you only get to see her for about 1-2 months before leaving again, but then fall in love with her like it was the first time for that exact reason entirely.
Now, you woke up to Jenna's notifications flooding her digital face, more voicemails and missed calls rather than messages.
Obviously, you panicked out of your fucking mind.
You knew she was safe in Ireland where she was filming season 2 of Wednesday. She has more bodyguards around her than people trying to get her autograph, and she has her co-stars with her at all times.
She was safe. Safe. The word almost sounded like a prayer you repeated in your head as you eyed her messages.
You couldn't open the voicemail for the reasons that you might hear an announcement that Jenna has got into some serious shit and might need to be hospitalized and you absolutely need to be there for her right now.
But after 5 minutes of going through all stages of grief, you pressed play.
You were not expecting Jenna to outright scream at her phone in the middle of the night.
"Y/n. Y/n, I—God, I don't even know where to start with this. I'm just so… so tired. From everything, from everyone. I don't know why, seriously, I don't know why but i just—I just broke down when I came back to my apartment."
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I have to message you like this in the middle of the night. I'm doing well in Ireland, but I'm having such a rough fucking time in shooting every scene. It's not like I hate everyone on the set, I love them, I… I don't know."
"I need you, please Y/n. Even if it's just your voice, just please give me a piece of your presence. I need something to hold on, someone to tell me that it's going to be okay and I'll get through this. I know, it's a bit overdramatic but… I just miss you so damn much, and this distance is killing me more than ever. We haven't seen eachother atleast a year now. I'm so tired."
"Please pick up, y/n. It's selfish for me to ask, but I just want to hear you. It feels like I'm losing myself in all of this. I don't want to break down in front of everyone on set tomorrow. But, y/n. Y/n, y/n, y/n, it's so hard."
"I love you. I love you so much. So damn much, it's killing me. I miss New York, I miss our home, I miss you. I wish you were here. I'm sorry for letting you hear me like this over the phone, it's unbecoming. I love you, goodnight."
Your heart sank.
It was all too surreal, all too agonizing, like you feel bile coming up to your throat.
The daunting feeling of Jenna experiencing all of these emotions at once dragged your heart, her voice like a film tape in your mind as if were right there with Jenna in her room.
You heard her cry, you watched her curl herself up on her mattress all while she clung to her phone as if it was your hand she wished she held everyday.
You craved for the warmth of her hand, and you imagine she craves yours as much as you do with hers while you longed to be there with her, for her. To hold her close to you and offer the comfort she needed. The very touch that healed every scar, present and future, was replaced by the lifeless screen of your phone.
You were there, you swear you're there, but you couldn't do anything but listen.
On top of everything, you blamed yourself.
You called her almost everyday, the long-distance relationship being almost a mere label to the both of you.
You texted her every morning and went to bed with her every night. You were there, always. Yet, it felt like you neglected her. Like a piece of you was missing before you even realized it.
Now all you can think about are her restless nights.
The days where Jenna staged a performance with a heavy heart while you smiled with joy, the nights where you slept peacefully in your own bed while Jenna tossed and turned in discomfort in something unfamiliar, sacrificing her rest for your peaceful evenings to remain the same.
You don't know how many days she's been like this, nor do you want to know, the thought was unbearable enough.
And you almost feel bad of booking a plane ticket rather than responding to her. You were just a flight away anyways.
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Shit, her head hurts.
Hammering, actually.
Like someone cracked it open with an axe made out of obsidian right down the middle and served it to her on a silver platter.
She never should've accepted that afterparty invite from Georgie.
If she never got absolutely wasted to shots from bottles of alcohol, maybe Jenna would've had the brain capacity to curse him under her breath for being such a good damn friend.
Worst of all, she was missing someone. Horribly.
You.
Not just you, but everything of you.
Your scent, your warmth, your presence, your heartbeat against hers—a cruel reminder on how she was missing all of these.
She longed to hear the way you laugh as if you heard the funniest joke ever, the way you smile at Jenna as if she was a saint that had done nothing wrong, the way you loved her oh so dearly like she was the only person that made you crawl out of your skin in a good way.
Now it was taken from her. All of it. She felt like she was nothing without her muse, which was actually the case here.
Jenna was supposed to stay for a year with you—a whole fucking year! A whole year was watered down to a pathetic one to two months because of a change in filming schedule that Jenna had, somehow, no right to turn down.
That's not even half of the time Jenna spent miles away from you, and she couldn't even apologize properly in person since she had to depart so early in the morning.
The thought of you expecting Jenna to wake up beside you with a smile and a kiss only to be woken up with a cold bed with a note apologizing a million times made her flight to another country worse.
She would've been happier if the plane crashed then she would be begging to whatever afterlife she was in to bring her back to the living and spend her life with you.
It's gotten to that point where she looked just like Wednesday off-cam if not worse. She even almost snapped at Emma when she tried consoling her.
Now she sits in her trailer, on a chair, not with you, but with... a chair. Along with her script on a table.
Jenna tried a few lines, repeated them, tried a few lines, repeated them, and it all just comes back full circle.
No matter what she does, she still fucking missed you and wished she could just tell everyone she wanted and needed a nap along with her girlfriend by her side until it reaches winter of 2025.
She could take a nap right now, but you weren't with her. The cold surface would make you appear in her dreams like the loving parasite you are to her and she would only yearn more.
She could take a walk right now, but little ice cream shops along the way would only make her reminisce about the times you would take her out on dates every damn day like you had buckets on buckets of gold to spend it all on Jenna. She would only miss you even more.
She could talk to one of her co-stars, but they weren't you. The stupid and fuckass conversations you'd often bring up, they wouldn't do that. Even if they did, it wouldn't have the same effect.
Why did life suddenly become so difficult when she now has the most gorgeous, talented, and loving girlfriend a billion miles away from her!?
After putting her arms over her eyes, trying to calm down the impending woe and sadness she was facing, a soft knock on her door interrupted all of it.
"Jenna?" She heard Emma's voice, soft like she was hesitant to talk to her if not for Jenna responding with a hum, "we've been calling you for 5 minutes now. It's our scene."
Her voice was serious, though quiet. Or maybe that was just concern, Jenna has been distant for a while now.
Letting out a sigh, she replied, "Right, I'll be there in a minute."
She pulled herself up from the chair. She didn't really need to return to the makeup team, just thankful she didn't cry herself to death thinking about you.
She turned her back to see Emma standing in front of the door, half opened, peering half of her body, "Jenna, you know you can take a break if you want—"
Jenna only offered a weak smile, her steps matching Emmas as they walked over to set, "It's fine. Don't worry about me too much."
Her thoughts are too different from what she was saying, but it wasn't like she could say she'd rather kill herself before even stepping foot out of her trailer without seeing y/n.
"Jenna!" Tim Burton called her out, his voice calm, stretching out her name like he was going to say something completely off-guard.
The girl in question was already staring him down as he spoke, "We've got a change in script"
The girl in question was already staring him down as he spoke, "We've got a change in script. Nothing too big, just that we've added a new extra that Wednesday needs to interact with on this scene."
Isn't that a slight bit unprofessional?
Jenna could let out the most exhausted and exasperated sigh if not for Tim being the one of the sweetest, yet often odd, directors she ever worked with.
"Yeah, sure, can I atleast meet this person—"
"Sorry, Jenna," He lead her to the place she needed to be, the extra in question being no where near in Jenna's sight, "but this is really a last minute change and we just need you both to improvise."
"Wait, but—!"
Her protests were already too late, looking like it went through one ear and out the other through the audio. She was just grateful she had enough training and years in this industry to immediately get into character.
It was supposed to be her scene with Emma, lurking in the woods, a lantern between her fingers as they approached a silhouette of a figure.
Now it was just Jenna in the scene, lurking in the woods, leaves crunching under her combat boots as she watched the camera move alongside her body, not a lantern but rather a flashlight gripped on her palm.
She was informed that the silhouette in question was one of her co-stars that she had met before hand, a tall figure in the distance that she could immediately distinguish based on the back alone.
Now... it's... not exactly what she was expecting to see when she got in character.
She approached the figure, confused as ever, not because it was in her script to do so, but she was actually so damn confused it wouldn't be a surprise to her if she was imagining things.
Because the silhouette looked exactly like you.
Jenna knew you from the slightest shade of your skin, even when it's so damn dark outside.
She knew you from the way you stood, the way you sometimes would do whatever it is with your hands when idle, the way you'd often slightly tilt your head back when you're suppressing a hard giggle—which you were and failing to do so—the way you, in your own words by the way, aren't a good actress for Jenna to practice her lines on without laughing like a total maniac.
Holy shit.
Jenna's mind raced, all too fast for her liking, her heart pounding in her chest, and her body almost in flames at the thought of you being here. Finally being here.
It couldn't be real, of course it wouldn't, why would you be on set in fucking Ireland? It must be a trick, much so a figment of her imagination and maybe more or less girlfriend deprived of everything you gave her. But as she drew closer, her steps doing all but walking slowly to the silhouette, it because unmistakable who it was.
It was you.
Her best friend ever since she learned how to act in middle school, a friend that stuck with her forever even in times where you could've left her all alone.
Her girlfriend. The girlfriend of almost a few years that she loved and cherished with all her might, even if she were to commit a sin, there would be no greater wrong than Jenna disliking you.
It was her home. At last.
Without a second thought, Jenna abandoned everything, forgetting that she was even supposed to be the character she was and rushed towards her, arms already stretched in a desperate embrace to feel your warmth against her body once again. Your heartbeat against hers. It was all too surreal, all too fucking real.
Jenna threw herself into your arms, wrapping you in a tight hug that almost knock you both off of balance in the dirt. Your body stumbling forwards as your back was faced on her.
You still smelled like New York, mixed with that familiar airpot scent that Jenna always got used to. But now, it felt so new, so new that you were hugging her, touching her like it was the last symphony you'd play in your life.
She hugged you, tight. Her hands gripping your clothes like you'd disappear in a matter of seconds. You can hear her taking deep breaths against your body, gulps, and her hold tightening onto you with each passing moment.
As you turned around, you waited for Jenna to slowly loosen her grip, her eyes searching yours as if she still could hardly believe that you were here, standing in front of her after all this time apart. And now, you couldn't believe devotion was still present in her eyes, that warm of a gaze that you always managed to capture in her eyes.
"You're here. Y/n, you're—" She sniffed, looking up at you as she cupped your cheeks, a stray tear trickling down her eyes that shimmered, "You're really here." She whispered, her voice cracking almost to a fault. Her voice was fragile, it crushed you. "Why, how? What, I don't under—"
You smiled softly, chuckling even, you didn't expect it to go this way. "That's not part of the script, Wednesday." You joked, even if it was a serious moment, you always seemed to have one.
"You're not part of the script, why are you here!?"
You reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from Jenna's fringe as Wednesday, your touch gentle and reassuring like it never changed over the years. It was still there, your love was still there, and you were waiting for your lover to come back once in your arms to show how much you missed her oh so dearly.
"I missed you." You simply said, slightly swaying the both of you back and forth
Jenna couldn't say anything, let alone form a few words, but the way she hugged you yet again after a few seconds of silence with such tenderness and compassion, it said everything that you needed to know.
Everything that you lost and you hold today, nothing mattered. Not even the heart that wouldn't stop beating against your chest, it wouldn't matter if you died, atleast it was in her arms.
"So I don't get to have an I miss you back?"
Jenna pulled back slightly, you can see how her eyes glistened looking if it was something that not even renaissance artists could sclupt.
"You don't know how many nights I've spent crying because of how I missed you." She mumbled, voice below a whisper, her mouth hung open from her slight crying, taking a deep breath as she let herself be in the most vulnerable state with you yet.
"You cried?"
"Without you? Terribly so."
Your heart ached when Jenna started to cry, she looked small. Smaller than ever in your arms when you once held her for the first time when she became a busy actress.
She broke down, almost melting in your presence as you try to hold her up. You knew there were cameras rolling, that there were people on set watching this go down, but you knew that you were the only one witnessing her vulnerable state, no matter how many people would see right through her.
You reached up to gently wipe away the tears that streaked down her cheeks, her freckles being in view, something that you missed so dearly, your touch light and tender as you held her—your world—in your hands.
"I wish I could've been there for you," you regretted, "I wish I was there every night, to wipe away the inevitable tears that would grace your face, to hold you in my arms every night.
Jenna shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips, "all that matters is that you're here with me." She chuckled. "Why are you here?"
"Booking a small plane ticket from New York to here was the smallest price to pay for the chance to hold you in my arms once again."
"You know those are expensive, y/n," she scolded you, yet her tone was playful. "How long are you planning to stay?"
You hummed, a grin curling on your lips, "As long as you want me to be here," you replied, "I can't go back when I don't have a return ticket."
Jenna leaned into your touch, her eyes closing as she savored the warmth of your embrace, she didn't know how much she took advantage of this until now. She was afraid you'll be leaving soon, even with all assurances, everything you'll be giving her wouldn't be enough to ease her fears of you departing from her soul once more.
"I love you, y/n. Too much."
"I love you too, Jenna. You know I was only a flight away."
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Y: i heard your voicemails, by the way.
J: i sent voicemails?
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a/n: sorry if this request was so so so late!! i still have more requests in my inbox and they'll probably be delayed for a couple of days or maybe even weeks because of exams. buttt ill try to post as much as i can with requests and super sorry in advance to those who requested! ill be updating future posts in my masterlists
#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x you#jenna ortega x y/n#jenna ortega x fem reader#jenna ortega x fem!reader#jenna ortega x female reader#jenna ortega#jenna marie ortega
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Little death (18+)
Pairing: Wednesday Addams x f!reader
Warnings: g!p Wednesday, soft Wednesday, established relationship, smut, blow job, cockwarming, lots of Italian petnames.
Summary: working with normies takes a toll on Wednesday, but, luckily, you're always there to make it better.
A/n: I don't know any Italian, so please tell me if I made any mistakes.
Masterlist
You wake up to the sound of the front door clicking shut. Blinking blearily you hide a yawn behind your palm. The clock reads eleven pm and you sigh, wiping the sleep out of your eyes as you trudge into the kitchen, where Wednesday fixes herself a cup of coffee. You frown, stepping into her line of vision.
"Cara mia," she greets, "you should be asleep." She frowns as you unsuccessfully try to hide another yawn.
"I wanted to wait for you." You gesture to the couch and Wednesday grips the cup tighter.
You know she doesn't like it when you sacrifice sleep for her sake, but what she doesn't know is that you can't properly rest without her by your side, holding you like you're the most precious thing in the world.
Lately she's been spending more and more time at the station, working twice as hard as her peers to receive twice as little credit. It's eating away at both of you. She claims it doesn't bother her - the way they refuse to take her seriously, even when she solves cases that usually take months in weeks - but you see it in her rigid posture and the clench of her jaw. She wants recognition and she has every right to demand it.
"I still have some work to do." Her tone is monotone, but her eyes betray her emotions - she hates the words just as much as you do.
You nod. "I'll heat up your dinner." You turn around to busy yourself at the stove, but a hand on your wrist stops you.
"I'm not hungry." Her words are barely a whisper. "Go back to sleep. In our bed."
You want to argue, but you see the look in her eyes, the one that tells you you won't win. So you push her fringe to the side and place a tender kiss to her forehead. "Don't stay too long, okay?"
She nods reluctantly and takes measured steps to her office, a cup of coffee in hand.
You sink against the counter, shaking your head. The girl is going to work herself to death.
You remember the first time you asked her why she is so adamant on working at the police station when she has the money, the means and the skill to open her own firm. You remember the way she stood up straighter (you didn't even know it was possible) and told you only one thing, "No matter how much it pains me to admit it, they're far more experienced then I am, and their expertise is one I can learn from."
You sigh and walk into your bedroom, accompanied by the tapping of Wednesday's typewriter. You decide to give her an hour, tops.
Thing taps on the nightstand rapidly, despite the exhaustion you can clearly see in the added wrinkles on the pale skin. You shake your head, "You'll lose a finger if you do that."
He slumps back dramatically, and you can almost see him huff.
"I'll get her in an hour, don't worry. Just go rest."
He leaves with that, albeit begrudgingly, and you make sure he doesn't go anywhere near Wednesday's office to hide her briefcase.
You spend at least twenty minutes laying on the bed and staring mindlessly at the ceiling. When half an hour passes you get up and make your own cup of coffee, sleep already forgotten by the time you take the last sip.
Thing wiggles a finger at you and you roll your eyes, "It's one cup, Thing, I'll be fine."
He taps on the pillow and you sigh.
"Yes, I'm aware it's almost midnight."
He taps again, this time forcefully and you feel like a reprimanded child.
"Okay! I get it. No need to act like my mom. I just don't want to fall asleep and let Wednesday work until the morning," you mumble, earning a sympathetic pat on your shoulder.
You look at the clock again. Quarter to midnight.
You decide to test your luck.
"I told you to go back to sleep."
You burrow into her neck, your breath fanning the skin there. "You don't need to apologize." You start loosening her tie, and take it off when she doesn't protest.
You freeze in the doorway. Your girlfriend continues typing, but you can tell she hears you shuffling around as you make your way to her.
"You had coffee." She says as soon as your arms circle her shoulders. She sighs and pushes back against you, letting her head fall on your shoulder in a display of vulnerability only you are allowed to witness. "I'm sorry," she utters.
"Cuore mio," she mumbles, tilting her head to grant you access.
You hum, peppering her neck with featherlight kisses, hands sneaking beneath the collar of her shirt to trace her collarbones.
"Let me take care of you, Weds." Your words press into her skin, your lips brushing the sensitive spot on her neck. "Please?"
She pushes your hands away and turns her chair to face you and it's the only answer you need. You sit on her lap, her hands land on your waist, squeezing gently. Her eyes close as you unbutton her shirt, and she relaxes in your hold, almost melting into the leather of her office chair. You waste no time in getting it off, presenting yourself with a delicious view of her pale body. You lean lower to tease her breasts with your teeth. Her hands slide lower on your waist and you take it as a sign to move. You take off her bra in one swift motion and throw it on the floor, latching on the exposed skin faster than it hits the floor.
She whimpers quietly, the sound almost going unnoticed by you. You grind on her lap, feeling her harden, and get back to work, enveloping the other nipple in the warmth of your mouth, enjoying the way she arches into you.
"I'm gonna use my mouth, okay?" You breathe out, palming her over her pants.
She nods shakily as her hands settle on your ass, squeezing possessively. "Anything you want."
You squeeze her shaft before climbing off her lap onto the floor, but she stops you, blinking as she looks around the room. Her eyes glint and she reaches to grab a blanket you gifted her off the small sofa. She folds it neatly before placing it on the floor near her feet, only then allowing you to kneel before her.
You feel like you're about to explode.
"I love you," you whisper, kissing her knee, "so much."
Her face lights up with a rare smile, making your heart squeeze tightly in your chest. "I know, mia amata, I know." The term of endearment so easily slipping past her lips makes you nuzzle into her thigh, littering it with kisses.
You don't know how you got so lucky.
She gently massages your scalp, not rushing you as you both bask in the moment. You pull away just enough to undo her belt and buttons on her pants. She lifts her hips and you slide them off slowly, revealing the bulge poorly concealed by her boxers. Her fingers thread through your hair and you lean to kiss her through the fabric, enhaling her deep, musky scent. The twitch is barely noticeable, but it makes you quicken your pace, eagerly tugging her underwear down to reveal her thick shaft. You sit back on the balls of your feet to take in the sight of her sprawled on the chair, her legs spread and her cock standing proudly, waiting for your mouth to claim it.
Wednesday squeezes the back of your neck, asking, pleading, and you comply, taking the reddened head of her cock between your lips and sucking, enticing a low moan.
You grip her thighs with both hands and bury her shaft deep in your throat, blinking away the tears.
"Don't hurt yourself," she manages to whimper, her fingers painfully tight on your neck.
You hum around her, earning a low whine and start bobbing your head up and down. Her moans grow louder each time your nose buries in her dark hair, her hips snapping up to meet you halfway.
You can tell she's close.
"Just like that, tesorino," She cries out, and finally forces your face down, using you to pleasure herself. You gag around her thick length, swallowing precum.
She thrusts fast, blabbering in Italian as she chases her high. Her eyes roll to the back of her head with a final snap of her hips and she cums, her cock buried deep inside your throat.
You struggle to breath and swallow, pulling away from her and letting her paint your neck and breasts white.
You catch your breath, reveling in her reddened cheeks and heaving chest.
She lazily reaches behind her to rummage around one of the drawers and pulls out a box of wipes. She works slowly, tenderly brushing your skin clean. Then, she tugs on the string of your silk robe, her pupils blowing even wider when your naked body is finally revealed. She pats her thighs and you don't wate a second in straddling her. You pull her in a tender kiss, one full of love and promise.
She guides you up and nudges the tip of her cock against your entrance and you sink down, clenching around her length.
"Can you keep still for me?" She asks, her voice hoarse.
You nod, glancing at the mess of her desk. "How long will it take?" You ask, knowing full well you'd stay forever if that's what she wanted.
"Not long." With that she turns back around, places her chin on your shoulder and goes through the papers on her desk as you struggle not to whine, your pussy pulsing at the slightest nudge from the ravenette.
You relax against her when she finally settles, and burrow your face into her neck, smiling. She places occasional kisses to your temple, making sure not to jostle you too much.
She enjoys torture, but not when it comes to you.
Your eyes start to drop and you decide to busy yourself with undoing her braids, untangling from her to face her fully, the motion making you both swallow back a moan. Your fingers thread through the dark tresses with utmost care, massaging her shoulders on your way up and finally fully undoing her braids, letting her hair fall free.
She looks breathtaking.
"Bed?" She asks, and you realize you've been admiring her far longer than you thought. You nod, slumping against her.
She gets up without as much as a hitch to her breath, cupping your ass and pushing you snug against her, her dick rubbing inside you deliciously. You moan into her ear, urging her to move faster and she complies, gently laying you down on the bed not even five seconds later.
She cradles your face between her palms and peppers it with kisses as she starts moving inside you, setting up a pace. "Anima mia." A kiss on the underside of your jaw. "Luce della mia vita." A chaste kiss on your lips, as she fastens her thrusts. "Sei il mio tutto." She mutters, losing herself in your body.
You're too out of it to understand what she's saying, simply nodding to each statement and squeezing tighter around her with each foreign word. She stretches you, bottoming out in your gushing center. Her mouth busies itself on your breasts, paying enough attention to each hardened nub.
"Wednesday, I'm-" you cry out, pushing her head back down when she tries to look up, "Keep going please, please, please," you moan, letting tears spill free.
"Let go for me," she whispers, "now, cara mia."
You come with a loud cry, arching into her, squeezing her length as she releases inside you with a low whine.
"I love you," you pant as she falls on your chest.
She hums softly, her eyes growing heavier by second, and nuzzles deeper into you. "I love you," she mutters at last, before finally surrendering to sleep.
-------------------
Cara mia - my dear
Cuore mio - my heart
Mia amata - my love
Tesorino - sweetheart
Anima mia - my soul
Luce della mia vita - light of my life
Sei il mio tutto - you're my everything
Requested by 🧞♀️ anon
#wednesday x reader#wednesday x you#wednesday x y/n#wednesday x fem!reader#wednesday addams x you#wednesday addams x reader#jenna ortega x y/n#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x you#Wednesday#wednesday smut#jenna ortega smut#little death
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Can I request some headcanons with Cassidy, Hanzo and Reaper? Of them holding their newborn baby for the first time? The baby fever is going crazy feral for me rn
I thought I would've gotten to this sooner, but hello, it is finally here!
This was such a cute concept and I'm really glad I got to do this and to finish it! Thank you for the patience ♥
CASSIDY
He panicked when you mentioned you were going into labour, words fumbling out his mouth in incoherent sentences that made you question whether or not he was okay.
He was there with you the entire time you were giving birth, holding your hand, moving the stuck hair from your face, wiping the sweat off of your forehead.
He never once let go of you, wanting nothing more than to soothe you throughout the entire process.
When the moment arrived, a screaming and crying baby in the nurses hands, Cassidy immediately felt the relief run through him.
“I am proud of you, honey.”
“You’re okay. Everything is fine.”
When the nurses eventually handed the small infant over to you, he witnessed your features getting soft, tears pricking your eyes once more. They weren’t painful tears, but rather tears of love.
The baby continued to cry for a minute or two longer as the conversation around the room continued.
Cassidy sat on the edge of the bed, hand still holding yours, watching you as you admired the soft bundle in your arms
When you turned to him with a smile on your face and asked if he wanted to hold his child, his heart almost stopped.
He had felt overwhelmed before, but this time it felt different.
His child was in his arms, bundled up in a soft blanket.
The cries had stopped, soft noises being made and when their eyes opened, looking at the cowboy, Cassidy felt the entire room spin.
Finally, another reason to fall in love all over again.
HANZO
Hanzo was careful throughout every stage of the pregnancy. He’d listen to you, and get you everything and anything had wanted and needed.
The moment Hanzo saw you grimace in pain, he knew exactly what was coming.
He was quick on his feet to get you over to medbay, hand never leaving yours as he helped you settle onto the bed.
The entire time he would whisper to you, sweet little words and praises to flood your mind and to take it off of the pain you were experiencing.
“Stay calm, sweetheart.”
“My love… You are doing amazingly.”
He would keep his fingers laced with yours all throughout the birth of your child.
The moment that new life was brought into the world, your hand squeezed your partners hand tightly, the relief flooding through your body.
His heart fluttered as the nurses brought the newborn over to you and him.
Every emotion was heightened when he saw you hold the small bundle and when you offered for him to hold the baby, his eyes widened.
His hands were gentle as he took the bundle to his chest, gently rocking his arms.
He was almost a natural, and when the cries calmed down, he chuckled.
Hanzo saw the pride within your face as you turned to look at him. The love for you and his child was overflowing.
The archer had another reason to keep fighting. To keep living.
REAPER
Everything changed rather quickly the moment you became pregnant.
The cold demeanour was suddenly calm and caring, something of which was what you needed during the pregnancy.
When labour came around and pain was surging, Reyes moved fast, carrying you to the medbay.
He was worried and rightly so as you cried out in pain.
Reyes kept his hand on your forehead, soothing what pained emotions you were receiving and letting out.
Your body was on fire for your partner did what he could to make sure you were pain-free as possible.
“Stay calm, You’re doing good.”
“Almost there, don’t worry, you’re doing well.”
He listened to your cries and it pained him, but the moment that it fell silent and another cry was heard, Reyes felt warm.
His heart felt bigger as he watched you hold your newborn baby.
Tears spilled from your eyes, Reyes moved his hand to cup your cheek, thumb caressing the warm and damp flesh.
When you held out your newborn to your partner, he hesitated, but his arms opened up and accepted the small bundle of newborn joy.
His eyes softened and he smiled, a genuine smile that made your own heart flutter with joy.
Reyes was happy. He was in love.
#overwatch#cole cassidy#cole cassidy x reader#hanzo shimada#hanzo x reader#gabriel reyes#gabriel reyes x reader#reaper x reader#ow reaper#overwatch 2#ow#fanfic#overwatch fanfiction#ow2#overwatch headcanons#yazzfics
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Omg omg! Aaron Warner x insecure reader?? Like maybe she’s beating herself up because of the way she looks. And thinks she doesn’t deserve Aaron?
Our Love - A.W
A/N: Thank you so much anon for this request. This one hit a bit too close to home, and I had a good cry making this. I loved this idea so much! I hope I did this justice. I also have this headcannon that Aaron would call Ella love in French, which is Amour, so I had to include this.
You had been in the shower for about an hour, but you didn't know that. Aaron did. He was pacing around your shared bedroom, panicking slightly. Your showers usually lasted 15 minutes, 30 at the most.
What scared him the most was what you were feeling. There was a horrible feeling of self-loathing and self-hatred that he so often felt. But why were you feeling like that?
There was a nagging voice in the back of his head, telling him to open the door to check if you were okay. But the other side of him was telling him to leave you alone, telling him that you were fine.
The small voice in his head got the better of him and before he even thought about it, he was knocking on the bathroom door. "Love? Can I come in please darling?"
He felt your emotions change from being sad and miserable to being scared. His heart broke when he walked into the bathroom and saw you sitting in the shower, still fully clothed, with your face in your hands.
"Amour, what's wrong," he asked quietly. When you didn't answer him, he starts undressing, even though he's already had a shower the same morning. But he didn't mind, because for you, he would do anything.
He gets into the shower and sits next to you, his body getting wet as he does so. "Darling? What's going on hmm? Why are you still dressed," he questions.
You look up at him with watery, red eyes. His heart ached for you, and your hurt that he felt almost killed him. He takes your hands in his, brushing them slowly with his thumb.
"Baby, why are you crying," he asked. You didn't answer again, but instead started shaking. "Love, hey," he cooed. "Its okay darling, c'mere let me give you a hug."
He pulled you into his warm embrace holding you close against him. He felt your body shaking as you sobbed into his shoulder. The pain you felt in this moment was unlike anything he had ever experienced through someone else.
He whispered reassurances into your ear, telling you that it's okay to cry and just be sad sometimes. Only then you answered him, saying that it wasn't okay to be crying all the time.
"Let's get you out of the shower Amour, then we can talk about what's bothering you." You nodded as you lifted your head off his shoulder. "I love you," he whispered as he kissed your forehead.
"I love you too," you whispered back.
He took your wet pyjamas off you and took your underwear off as well. "We're not going to do anything, okay? Just want to clean you up love."
You were okay with anything he wanted to do. You trusted him completely.
He washed your hair for you, making sure not to get any shampoo in your eyes. He lathered your body with your favourite body wash, kissing your cheek as he did so.
Once he was finished making you feel like a princess, correction his princess, he wiped your body with the fluffiest towel he could find and got your clothes out.
Well, not your clothes, his clothes rather. You basically own it now. He gave you your underthings, and a pair of grey sweatpants he used to own, and a baggy t shirt.
He put in a pair of his sweatpants and came to lay down with you. "Amour, what's going on? I could feel your emotions when you were in there, you know. Why were you feeling like that baby?"
"I- I'm so sorry, Aaron. I didn't mean to worry you, but I'm fine. I am completely okay," you say, not even trusting yourself to believe you.
"You were crying in there for an hour, darling. If it was nothing you wouldn't have been in there for so long. Come on my love, you know you can tell me anything," he reassures you.
You weren't sure your tears had started, but they caught your attention now. You quickly wiped them away before saying, "Okay, maybe something is wrong. But it's so stupid, a-and I just don't want to bother you be-because you're always so busy and I just don't want to be annoying."
When you had started crying and shaking, Aaron had grabbed onto both your hands again, moving closer to where you were seated. He kissed your forehead gently before beckoning for you to go on.
"I just- I feel like I'm not good enough for you. Like I can't give you what you want. I- I'm a shit leader, I'm way too soft, and I can't run the fucking Reestablishment by myself," you explain.
"Moreover, I'm so fucking ugly! I don't understand why you would want me, or why you even broke up with Lena! I mean she's perfect, she's pretty, she really cares about you, you know?"
Aaron feels your hurt and guilt as you try to explain this to him. But he also realises that you've been carrying this with you for a long time.
"My love," he cooed. "Lena does seem to care for me on the outside, but she has an ugly heart. But you, my darling, you are beautiful inside and out. There isn't anything about you that I don't love."
"Stop it, Aaron."
"Stop what, Amour?"
"Stop making me out to be someone I'm not," you say with a shuddering breath.
He freezes and for a second you think you went too far. "A-Aaron I didn-"
"I'm sorry. I am so so sorry love. I know that all this is new for you, and in a way it's new for me too. But yet I haven't been kinder to you about the situation.
"But why do you deem yourself unworthy of love, my darling? Why do you think that you are not beautiful, that you are not worthy of the pleasures you're given?"
"Because everyone is always talking about us, Aaron," you say as you look up into his eyes stunning green eyes. "All the supreme children are talking about us all the time, and I hate it, Aaron. I feel like they're talking smack about us, about why you would ever love someone like me.
"I don't mind it if they keep talking shit about me, but I cannot stand anybody talking shit about you."
He looked into your eyes as they became glassy with unshed tears.
"Darling, they don't talk about you, or me, like that. They admire our love. They envy our love, Amour. They wish they could find a love like ours. They know that I would burn this world for you, and as shown now, that you would beat up anyone talking smack about us," he reassures you. "I love you. I love you and you only. I never cared about anything in the world except my mother, but you gave me something to lose. Someone to care for. You are so, so fucking perfect, my darling."
He pulls you into his arms and kisses you lips softly as you wrap your arms around his neck, and your legs around his waist. You pull away from him slightly, only now just realising what he said.
You chuckle as you say, "Did Aaron Warner just swear telling his girlfriend she's pretty?"
"There were so many things wrong with that sentence, baby." he says with a smirk. "First of all, you're my future wife, second of all, you are stunning. There's a huge difference darling."
You bury your face in his neck, which is now red from embarrassment. He stroked your hair calmly, holding you close to him and kissing your shoulder.
"I love you, okay? I will always love you, my beautiful, beautiful wife. You are mine, and I am yours and will forever be," he whispered into your ear.
If it was possible, your face became redder. Aaron felt your emotions shift again, but this time to love and a feeling of belonging.
"I love you too Aaron. I love you so much. Thank you," you say, wrapping yourself tighter onto him.
#aaron warner#shatter me series#tahereh mafi#shatter me#aaron warner anderson#aaron x reader#aaron warner x reader#aaron warner fanfic#aaron warner x y/n
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⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ iv. toji/reader/suguru
⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⭑๋࣭ summary page
please refresh your memory of the content warnings that's mentioned on the summary page. this chapter will include s*xual activites.
Toji
My wife cheated on me. Not a lot of shit can hurt me, but that did. I know I haven’t been the best husband, though, I never expected it to get to the point where she would go fuck someone else. I can’t be surprised that other men are interested in her because look at her— she’s fucking gorgeous.
Nice big tits.
Curvy body.
An ass that requires me to hold with both of my hands.
Beautiful brown skin that glowed so brightly it makes the sun jealous.
Aside from her looks, Y/N has a heart of gold.
I was rough around the edges when we first met ten years ago. Still am, but with her? I’m soft. Vulnerable. There’s a side of me that’s reserved for her and her only. She doesn’t pity me for my fucked up past, and she doesn’t try to understand me because although her past isn’t all peaches and cream, she hasn’t experienced what I have. However, she made me feel… reassured. Heard. Emotions that feel foreign to me. Imagine a shitty motherfucker like me who kills people for a living would fall in love and get a girl like Y/N.
Luck was on my side the day she agreed on being mine forever, but now? I’m not feeling so lucky.
I feel angry. Betrayed. Frustrated. Annoyed. Every negative thing you can think of—all while I’m fucking her.
I’ve been pounding into her tight, wet pussy for the past two hours. Time after time making her cum and scream my name until I feel like the fucker that touched her is out her system.
I’ve declined Y/N several orgasms, but still gave her five, going onto six. My right hand finds comfort around her neck while my left is busy rubbing her clit with my thumb. She’s spread out so pretty on the bed for me, tears of pleasure staining her gold shining cheeks. I keep fucking her with no intention of letting up and let’s just say seeing her tits bouncing with my thrusts is the reason why.
Well, at least one of the reasons.
Fuck, I can’t believe I’ve been without her pussy for this long. Ten months to be exact, and despite Y/N sharing what’s mine, her pussy still molds around me. I’m the only motherfucker that can fuck her like a whore, but cherish her like she’s the only woman in the world—because she is… for me.
Now when I look at her, I think of that bitch that had the pleasure of knowing what she feels like.
Suddenly, I’m pissed again.
My strokes are hungrier, more passion and anger filled. The harder I fuck her, the louder Y/N and her pussy gets. She’s so fucking wet there’s a puddle forming underneath of all her releases. I love how messy she gets, seeing her cream coat my cock. Y/N is squeezing me so damn hard and she sounds so sweet.
“Look at you. A pathetic slut while whimpering on my cock,” I say, mockingly. “Is this how you sound when you let that motherfucker touch you?”
“T-Toji… Toji, please -”
“That wasn’t a rhetorical fucking question, Y/N,” I bit out. “Answer me.”
Her pussy clenches, moaning softly. “No, fuck… ”
“Open your mouth.” Gosh, I’m so fucking tempted to praise Y/N. I fell in love with her because she’s stubborn, but she always listen to me without hesitation, opening her mouth like a good girl.
I formed saliva in my mouth to allow a long and slow string of spit drip into hers, and the minute Y/N swallows, she cums for the sixth time tonight.
I chuckle, menacingly. “My spit turns you on that much? You like getting fucked in this tight pussy like a whore? Because that’s what you are.”
This pussy is so goddamn wet and warm. Tight as shit, too. Fuck, she’s taking me so well.
“Oh, God! Fuck, Toji, fuck. It’s too much, baby,” she cries.
I apply more pressure to her throat. “Shut up.” I push past every single one of my thrusts and drive deeper in her pussy, rubbing her clit harder than before. “Give me one more.”
Y/N drew her brows together and opened her mouth to protest, looking so damn pretty. “I… I don’t think I can.”
“Yes, you fucking can,” I growl. This is the closest praise she’ll get from me tonight. “Greedy fucking pussy still holding onto my cock. I know she wants some more of my cum. Don’t you think, sweets?” I didn’t give Y/N a chance to answer before I released her throat to hold her thick waist tightly.
I pull her down on my cock fast and hard, balls slapping her pussy to make the most pornographic sound. She hesitates about putting her hand near my pelvic to relieve the pressure, but I know she wants to prove to me that she can take me.
That’s my girl.
I continue to fuck her aggressively at a frantic pace, deeper, brutally until my release rushes to the tip of my cock and shoots inside her. This load may be the heaviest, and of course, she cums and squirts on me… again. Fuck, I love it. I pound into her until my dick pops out of Y/N’s pussy due to her wetness.
As I come down from my own high, I watch Y/N shake uncontrollably, panting and whimpering like a bitch in heat. She’s so fucking sexy. She cheated on me. Not once, but twice. I shouldn’t be feeling this way about her. Like I’m trying to prove I’m worthy enough to be her husband…
Vulnerability and insecurity pings my chest.
I hate fucking feeling this way. I shouldn’t be running Y/N a warm bath to bring her to, changing the sheets, and going back to the bathroom to wash her. She cheated on me , so she should be catering to me . I know I neglected her. I haven’t told her I love and appreciate her in months. First time fucking her in months. Don’t remember the last time we went on a date. I know I have been a shitty husband, but still…
The next morning came, but sleep wouldn’t come to me. So I sat up most of the night watching Y/N sleep. I felt like a fucking creep, however, I couldn’t help myself. She’s just so… perfect. And I’m the first motherfucker to say nothing or no one is perfect in this fucked up life… it just doesn’t apply to her.
Eventually, Y/N woke up and we’ve been in this comfortable, yet painful silence. Just us staring at each other and having a conversation with our eyes. I look at her and sometimes I still find it hard to believe that she fucking cheated on me.
“Why’d you do it?” I didn’t mind the quiet, but my mind would’ve exploded with how loud it’s being right now.
Her deep ochre complexion bathed underneath the sunlight that flashes in our room. She looks surreal, like a goddess. Paid millions for a penthouse to have the pleasure of looking at her first thing in the morning. Not like I have been taken advantage of it anyway.
She softly sighs. “Explaining to you why I did it will sound like a justification when it’s not.”
“Just tell me.”
“I… I thought you didn’t love me anymore,” she says, quietly.
“What?” Y/N’s response surprises the hell out of me, but I can tell this conversation is just as heavy as it is for me because tears start streaking down her cheeks.
“You haven’t touched me in almost a year, Toji. Every time I tried, you always rejected me. I felt so embarrassed. You don’t even look at me anymore.”
“I do.”
She shakes her head. “Not like how you used to. Not like right now, even if you’re mad at me.”
Hearing her reason hurts me, but I allow her to continue because she looks like she’s just getting started.
“I wanted attention. I want to feel desired, alive. Appreciated… loved—”
“You love that motherfucker?” I growled.
“No, Toji. Fuck,” she lets out an exasperated breath, sitting up and allowing the sheets to fall from her chest. I can’t pretend I’m not getting hard while seeing her tits swollen and nipples pebbled, but now isn’t the time. “I feel so pathetic explaining to you. Do you really think I love, let alone look at anyone the way I do with you?”
No.
“I know you don’t.”
“I just want to feel like that girl next door again when I was twenty-five and being reckless with a random guy I spent my whole entire night with. Free. Alive… happy. I just want to be happy with you.”
Even if it’s not what I wanted to hear, this conversation was needed. I will never forget that Y/N cheated on me, but I can somewhat understand. She’s a stay-at-home wife. I told her I didn’t want her to work. We have no kids. It’s been this way for a decade. Y/N gets bored and lonely. Now that she mentions it, I have rejected or ignored her advances when she tries to have sex.
Our marriage isn’t perfect. I’m fucked up. She fucked up, but she’s my sanity… I’m not willing to throw that away.
I deeply sigh. “I hear you, and I’m sorry that I make you feel like I don’t love you. I do. I fucking love you so much. I would give up my life for you. No hesitation. You know that, right?”
“I know, baby.” Baby… fuck, I miss the way that sounds.
“I’ll work on being a better husband, but let me just say this.” My voice darkens, grabbing her chin to force her to look into my eyes. “No more of that motherfucker. You. Are. Mine. No one else's. You. That pussy. All of you belong to me. Don’t fucking share what’s mine again. I make myself clear?”
All the tears and pain Y/N had before were replaced. Her beautiful big brown doe eyes deepened with hunger and lust. I know she’s turned on. Her nipples are practically screaming at me and she’s squeezing her thighs underneath the sheets. After all that fucking I gave her last night, she’s craving for more. I guess in a way I do have a lot of months to make up for.
“What’s on your mind, pretty girl?”
“I want you fuck me.”
I chuckle, closing the distance between our lips. “Is that how you ask?”
“Toji, please come fuck me. I need you, baby.” Begging so fucking sweetly.
“Fuck, Y/N.” I crash my lips onto hers and fuck her endlessly like she asked.
Reader
Eventually I had to get ready for tonight’s event after being worshiped for hours by Toji. He fucked me with anger last night, but this morning… he made love to me. Our conversation about my cheating and his lack of effort in our marriage led to endless orgasms that put me to sleep until two hours ago.
Now we were hand held walking into a mansion the size of a country.
The Zen’in Estate.
Every year Toji’s cousin, Naoya, throws a huge party where rich people would come together to be snotty and talk about their wealth.
Toji and I live a pretty luxury lifestyle, but this party is definitely not our forte. Nonetheless, we come to show our support because that’s the last piece of family Toji has left and their relationship is good.
Unorthodox, but good.
Speaking of the devil…
“Cousin Toji. Y/N. It’s nice to see the beautiful couple make it.” Bleached blonde hair. Piercings, standing at six feet tall—Naoya Zen’in. The resemblance between Toji and his cousin never ceases to amaze me. Whatever is in that Zen’in blood runs deep. Hard to believe they’re just cousins.
“Y/N, it’s been awhile and I see you’ve only gotten more beautiful since we last saw each other,” he says, giving me a hug and kiss on the cheek. Naoya pulls away, but keeps his hands at an appropriate spot on my back. “Stunning you are. Maybe it’s not too late for you to leave that jackass and come be with me.” Heat crawls in the center of my face at his compliment. I see Naoya is still Naoya.
Arrogant, cocky, flirtatious, and bold. Also, handsome. Very handsome, at that. The navy blue suit he’s wearing, where I could tell it’s a custom from how it’s tailored to his body compliments him well. But of course, he knows I’m not interested.
Before I opened my mouth to protest, Toji let out a low warning growl and put a possessive hand around my waist to pull me back to his side. “Tread lightly, Zen’in.”
“Everything okay, Cousin Toji? You seem tense,” he asks, mockingly.
“Where’s your wife? I’m sure she wouldn’t appreciate how you’re talking to my wife .”
Naoya smirks. “I can guarantee you Teresa doesn’t mind. And to answer your question, she excused herself to the ladies room. Should be back any min—ah, there she is!”
I turn around and smile when I see Teresa walking toward us. Her natural coils are blown straight and cascading down her back. Beautiful brown skin that was a shade deeper than mine.
Teresa had curves of a model. Soft and dipped in the right places that filled her backless navy colored gown perfectly. She was beyond gorgeous. How was Naoya able to charm her into a marriage? Not sure. But here we are anyway.
I leave Toji's side to give Teresa a tight hug. “Ah, I miss you, T. It’s been too long. You look so beautiful.”
“I missed you, too, Y/N. And me? Look at you, gorgeous! Tits out, high slit?” she says cheerfully. “I’m surprised Toji hasn’t pulled you to a room yet.”
Toji chuckles, placing a kiss on Teresa’s cheek. “That’s what I’m planning on doing later. High slit. Better access.” I feel my cheeks warming up and wetness pooling my panties from his words because I know he’s serious. “It’s good to see you, Teresa. See you haven’t left Naoya yet.”
“Nope. Not yet. Well, I probably can’t,” Teresa teases while placing a hand on her stomach. She moves to Naoya’s side to which he gives her a sensual kiss. “I’m pregnant.”
“Really? Congratulations. That’s amazing. I finally have a reason to spend more money,” I elated, earning an eye roll from Toji. It’s his money I’m using, as if he cares because his spending habits are just as bad as mine. “How far along are you?”
“Nine weeks. We just found out two days ago.” The conversation continues with Teresa and I catching up and discussing baby plans while our husbands bicker, as usual.
Eating, mingling, and a few glasses of champagne for me, hours later, Toji and I fell into a comfortable silence while swaying to the sound of music. His hand found comfort on the small of my back, causing heat and chills to radiate my body while my cheek rested on his chest to listen to his heartbreaks. Despite the hiccups in our marriage and my infidelity, Toji’s presence has always been comforting for me. I just feel so safe in his arms like if I am, no one will do me any harm.
Though, if looks could kill, half of the men in this room would be dead from Toji’s daggered look.
I knew how possessive and overprotective Toji was the moment I became his. Any type of male interaction I have, he gets jealous. No exceptions. Not even his cousin, but of course he’s an exception to not feeling Toji’s fist down his throat because he knows he does it to annoy him.
And it works every time. I giggle just thinking about it.
“Something’s funny?” Toji’s deep and raspy voice breaks me from my thoughts.
“No,” –I looked up at him–“just the alcohol.”
“Ready to go home?”
“No. Already trying to snatch me away?” I tease.
“Maybe. All these motherfuckers keep staring at you, and I know their thoughts aren’t PG.”
I shrug. “Cons of having a hot wife, no?”
He smiles. “You look beautiful, Y/N. I don’t know if I told you that already.” He has. Over a dozen times, but who’s counting? I’m definitely not complaining.
I did feel gorgeous tonight. My emerald colored asymmetrical dress with a hint of sparkle matched perfectly with Toji’s eye color. Modest, but sexy with a high slit and strapless to show off the fullness of my tits. Light makeup and claw clip hairstyle that had my tendrils framing my face.
“Thank you, Mr. Zen’in. You cleaned up well yourself,” I say, rubbing his bottom lip with my thumb. “You look handsome, baby.” Toji’s favorite color is black. Ninety-nine percent of his wardrobe is black, but it’s just something about this black velvet suit hugging his frame that’s heating my core to flames. Not to mention him gelling his hair back. Fuck, I don’t know if it’s the alcohol thinking, which I know it isn’t, but I just want him to myself right now.
“What’s on your mind, Mrs. Zen’in?” The same question from this morning that had me struggling to get out of bed.
“You know what’s on my mind.”
He smirks, lowering his head to ghost over my ears. “You want me to fuck that tight pussy again? Last night and this morning wasn’t enough for you?”
“Toji,” I softly moan. “Just a quick one.”
He kisses my neck. “Why should I?”
“Because your horny wife needs you to make her cum.”
“Shit,” he groans. “When you say it like that, you make it hard for me to resist.” Toji begins palming my ass, no worries about us being in the middle of the party.
So I return the favor, subtly massaging his clothed erection. I already knew how uncomfortably hard he was straining against his pants. I don’t know why he’s playing hard to get.
“Y/N.”
“Come fuck me, Toji.”
“Fuck.” Toji lets out a low groan before grabbing my hand to guide me away from the party to find a room.
I have a smile on my face, truly convinced that I have an addiction to his touch because the pain and pleasure Toji gives me is all that I crave.
Suguru
I’ve been here a fucking hour and I have yet to see Y/N. I’m questioning if Satoru lied just to bring me out to get over her, as he would say. I don’t need to get over Y/N. I just need to fucking see her. To taste her, smell her. Hold her and fuck that tight wet pussy of hers.
I tried to get Y/N out of my mind by fucking other people, but it didn’t work. Not even a little. No one takes my cock the way she does.
I miss her voice, sweet whimpering sounds while I’m pounding into that warm pussy. I miss how messy she got around me. I can’t fucking stand to be without her. I love her so much it hurts. I still can’t believe she ignored me forty-five times.
I’m honestly trying to remember if I ever pissed her off while we were still in contact. Aside from my asshole like tendencies that seems to charm her, I can’t think of anything.
I’m not interested in anyone else. All the women that have approached and continue to can just save their energy. None of them compare to—
“Y/N.”
“Huh?”
Satoru taps my chest. “Y/N. She’s over there. Looks like she is here with her husband.”
I look over in the direction Satoru is pointing and fuck . She looks so fucking sexy. So goddamn beautiful. I’m not even in her proximity and my cock is aching in my pants. She’s wearing a dress that’s baring her thick thighs and has the cushion of her tits out on display that bounces every step she takes. Is it possible to become even more breathtaking over the course of two weeks?
In Y/N’s case— yes .
But my arousal and joy only lasts so long until I realize that she’s being whisked away by her husband. My jaws ticked just seeing that. I expected Y/N to be here with that piece of shit to obtain an image, but she looks… happy. The smile on her smile shows excitement, like they’re about to go… no .
You gotta be fucking shitting me .
I think no further before my legs start moving and head toward their direction. I hear Satoru calling me, asking me where I’m going, but I don’t have time to tell him. He should know.
By the time I made it to where I last saw Y/N, she had already disappeared from the party and I suspect into the dark hallway where partygoers probably won’t go.
There’s so many rooms in this fucking house. I don’t even know where to start. Calling her name out loud wouldn’t be ideal because I don’t want to scare her or sound creepy, but dammit I’m tempted.
As I get deeper in the hall, I hear soft moans and gasps coming from the double door room at the end. I know those sweet sounds from anywhere.
Y/N.
But I’m not the reason why.
I lighten my steps as I approach the door and press my ear against it to hear better.
“Toji, oh, fuck!” Y/N cries. “Right there, baby. Right fucking there.”
What the fuck?
I hear everything. The honeyed whimpers. The harsh thrusts. Her pussy taking cock and gushing around it. Y/N pleading for a release, to go harder and deeper like she asked me. All of it reminded me of our first two times together. Gosh, I fucking miss her.
I should be mad. Actually, I am. Pissed, but I can’t act like her getting fucked isn’t turning me on. My cock pressing against my pants wouldn’t allow me to lie. I just wish it was me fucking her wet pussy instead of him.
If she needed cock, why didn’t she just reply to my calls and messages? I would’ve shown up without hesitation to please her. To relish that succulent pussy I know would taste like paradise—
The sound of the door jumping startled me, but… they sound closer.
“… yours. This pussy is yours, Toji.”
The fuck it is!
I’m holding back my willpower to not bust through the doors and fucking kill her husband, but this is the closest thing I can get to Y/N right now.
I shouldn’t be doing this, palming my cock and drinking in all of her moans and drenched pussy I hear being pounded. Maybe, just maybe if I tune out her husband’s praises, I could focus on getting off to Y/N.
I look around before unbuckling my slacks to free my cock from its restraint. I shouldn’t be surprised that a bead of my precum is already leaking. Spitting on my hand to mix with precum, I used to lubricate my cock to start fisting myself.
“Hm, yes. I love your cock, Toji.”
She loves my cock.
“Keep fucking me. Harder…Harder, please .”
I grip my cock tighter and pick up the speed of my movements.
I’ll fuck you as hard as you want.
“Do you feel lucky to have me, Toji? Tell me how much you love my pussy.”
Fuck, you know I feel lucky, Y/N. I like that fat wet pussy so much. I love you, Y/N.
Heat spreads throughout my body from the excitement me and my cock are feeling. How does she sound so fucking sweet while taking cock? How can pussy be that good? I’m trying to prevent myself from cumming quickly, not wanting to cum until she does, but she’s making it hard. Me , hard.
I pump faster. I just wish it was Y/N doing this for me. I wish it was Y/N full and pretty lips stretch around my cock and taking my thrusts like a good girl. She takes me well in her pussy, I just know she would suck me off like a pro.
Thinking about it has me throbbing, aching for a touch. A visual of how she looks right now. Panting. Tears pricking. Tits bouncing obnoxiously. Her wetness, cream everywhere. At this point, I’m practically ripping the flesh off my cock.
I keep my grunts and harsh breaths low enough so only I can hear. I’m so close to coming. I just want Y/N and I to cum together.
“Toji! Fuck! God, I’m about to come again.” A sharp cry comes Y/N. I can hear her husband chuckling and to keep it down before someone hears her, but she doesn’t care.
I loll my head against the door to steady myself, massaging my balls and stroking myself to Y/N’s climax. I can get caught. I’m in the middle of the hallway jacking myself off to Y/N being fucked like a creep. But I don’t give a fuck. When it comes to Y/N, I’m unhinged. Feral. I think without reason.
“Yes.”
Yes .
I circle my hand around my cock with eagerness.
“Yes.”
I release my heavy cum filled balls to twist my length with both hands, showing extra love to my tip.
“Right there.”
I’m here, Y/N.
I thrust my hips into my palms while fisting myself.
“Keep giving it to me, Toji.”
I’ll give you everything, anything you want, pretty girl. Just cum for me, okay?
After that… my mind goes blank. My core stills as my release spills out, coating my hand and the door. I tug my bottom lip into my mouth to prevent my moans from slipping. The last time I orgasmed like this was when I fucked Y/N. I needed this. I needed to cum so badly. Of course, it’s not the same because I’m not the one who just fucked her, but this will do for now until I talk to her.
I didn’t have time to come down from my high before I heard Y/N and her husband fixing themselves to come out. I tuck my cock back in my pants, clean my release off the door, and find a bathroom further down the hall to clean myself up.
I didn’t expect to jack off to Y/N getting fucked by that jackass. It just happened. I couldn’t miss the opportunity because hearing her come sounds better than having sex with other women.
“Fuck, get it together, Suguru,” i mutter go myself. I just can’t help myself when it comes to the woman I love.
I leave the bathroom and think to myself how am I going to get Y/N away from her husband so we can talk—alone. Going up to her while she’s next to him wouldn’t be smart because I’m sure the fucker would know it’s me the minute he sees how I look at her.
Maybe I should try texting her?
No .
I’ve already texted her twenty-five times. If I make it twenty-six, she’ll think I’m weird and creepy.
I don’t want her to have that impression of me.
The last thing I want is to involve Satoru in my love life, but I can probably have him–
Y/N.
She’s less than ten feet away from me and alone. Perfect .
“Y/N!” I call loud enough for her ears only. She turns around, big brown eyes zero in on me, shocked that she sees me, like I’m a ghost.
“Suguru? Wh-” I take three long strides to close the space between us before she questions why I’m here or protests.
Talking to her in the middle of the hallway wouldn’t be ideal, so I grab her wrist and pull her into the closest room to us, not caring about her objections and attempt to break my hold. I lock the door and pull her into my chest, inhaling her creamy vanilla and warm berries scent I love so much.
“Y/N, I miss you.”
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#jjk x black reader#jjk x reader#anime x black!reader#jujutsu kaisen x black reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#geto suguru x black reader#geto suguru x reader#suguru x reader#geto x black reader#geto x reader#toji fushigro x reader#toji x black reader
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Hi how are you? I don't know if you are accepting requests... but if so, I would like to ask Macgyver for something
I imagine something, where the reader is jealous of Mac with Desi or Riley, and to make matters worse for the reader, one of them ends up getting hurt, and then Mac gives her his full attention? (Riley, Desi) and the reader starts to feel super insecure and super bad...
Thankss!!
first of all the fact I have a MacGyver request right now is nothing short of amazing. with the show being over for a while now the fandom has died down quite a lot and I am happy to write for him whenever. I will also be choosing Desi for this considering I’m very anti-Desi, apologies to anyone who likes her. anyways I hope you enjoy xx
Wish It Was Me
Pairing: Angus MacGyver x Fem!Reader
Warnings: jealousy, language, angst, heartache, unreciprocated feelings, fluff, happy ending (don’t worry)
Summary: After months of pretending that his behavior doesn’t bother you, you finally find yourself getting fed up and showing your heartbreak towards the boy. He uses this as an excuse to finally confront his feelings for you.
word count: 2.4k
Masterlist
Harboring a crush on the man your job required you to protect was a great work ethic tactic. In fact it was the best one you had yet. Obviously you’d protect anyone of the team but if something ever actually happened to Mac, you’d be more than upset. Quite possibly crushed. It was also a great tactic considering you were very well trained at keeping your emotions intact which meant not once had you given up the fact you had any feelings for the blonde boy at all. It was simple actually, pine for him when you were alone and protect him when you were together. Always at his 6, gun pointed and loaded. A team always and forever.
That is until Desi Nguyen came along.
Not only is she just as good as you at combat but she was also getting closer to the team and you despised that. Feelings of replacement and jealousy filling you which made you angry for experiencing such emotions at all. It started to get worse when you noticed how close Mac was getting to her. Hell when she first showed up she had caught him leaving the shower and she hadn’t been shameless about it at all. You were the only one to successfully pass her test and she acted like because of that, the two of you were friends. That made it even worse.
It started with him laughing at her jokes, then it was grabbing a coffee after work, and pretty soon it was slight touches in passing, barely noticeable, but there. It was driving you up a wall, yet you’d never show it. Not only was Mac completely clueless but Riley and Bozer as well. So when you find yourself particularly angry for being sent in the field with Mac and Desi, no one seems to pay no mind because you are a shell of stoic. Untouched by silly and childish feelings of crushes and love. You wonder if there is possibly anything that could break your cool and calm structure.
“Y/N, I need you for a minute” your heart stutters, wishing he meant it in a different way, some other way. Yet you obey, not even a glimmer of hope shining as you look in his eyes. “Hold this wire for me please”
“Better hurry guys, we’re gonna have guests soon” Desi speaks, still on guard for any unwanted visitors. You slide your gun in the holster, allowing her to cover you both as you hold the wire like Mac asked.
“Please tell me this will only blow up the bad guys and not us” you tell Mac, a sly smile on your face and he chuckles, his hand twisting with his Swiss army knife as he works on something you can’t possibly comprehend.
“I’m not making any promises” he tells you and you fight the grin that wants to crawl across your face. You want to smile at him like he hung the stars but your job was to protect, not love. Even if you wanted to you’d be afraid of doing it for competition now, even if you didn’t know how Mac felt about Desi you knew she liked him.
That point is proven when you’re interrupted by the heavy footsteps of three men. A shot is let off in the air before you have time to register that the shot was heading for Mac. Desi does her job which is the same as yours, stepping in front of the bullet, and letting it knock her to the ground. You don’t have time to think about it, you move on command, years of skill practically motorized into your being. Your gun is out your holster in seconds and you’ve shot all three men to the ground before anyone can think about it. It’s what you were built for.
“Shit Desi, are you okay?” it’s Mac’s voice that pulls you from combat mode. You turn to find he has taken position over her fallen form, both her hands and his own holding her wound tightly as she bleeds from her torso.
“Been better Mac” she tells him, voice straining like she’s clearly in pain. You see it in his eyes though. It’s what keeps you from rushing to her side as well. It was there all along and maybe he was just as good at hiding it as you or you were denial. He’s looking at her the way you would’ve looked at him if he was the one laying on that ground.
“Matty, we’re gonna need an exfil location stat. Desi has been shot” you call over on your comm’s and the worried voices from the other team members seem to make you sadder. Feeling abandoned by your team and guilty for allowing such personal feelings to make you seem so cold towards a girl who had never done anything wrong to you.
“Alright, hang in there Des. We’ll get you out of here” it’s the nickname that comes from his mouth that makes bile rise to your throat but when he cradled the girl in his arms it’s something else entirely. Pain worse than you’ve faced in the field sears through you and when Mac looks up at you, you decide it’s time to accept that this is your life now. Him and her. The real team.
What you don’t know is that Mac see’s it. The pain, it’s written clear as day across your face. It startled him for a moment because you never give anything up. A statue of a person and to see you seem so dejected is heartbreaking in a way he can’t comprehend. He knows it’s not worry for Desi, he’s sure that is inside of you somewhere, but the pain written across your face is one of longing. After months of wishing you’d reciprocate any feelings for him at all he realizes they were always there, just under the surface.
Matty pulled off an emergency extract quickly, and thankfully the debrief was quick due to worry of Desi’s condition. Everyone can tell you’re defeated, more than likely thinking it was from an unsuccessful mission. You let them, and go to your rented room in Mac’s home. For the first time in months wishing you didn’t live there. Thankful Bozer and Mac stayed back you pour yourself a heavy glass of wine, find yourself in a warm shower, and then curled on your bed in some pajamas with a book. You’re four glasses of wine deep and halfway through the book when you hear the front door open and close.
“I’m home” is called out. Mac who had been with Desi all this time. Bozer had come home hours ago, and was more than likely asleep. For the first time in a while you wished you had shut your bedroom door to avoid him, have a good night sleep in before you had to deal.
“Hey, you’re up” he’s in your doorway in seconds. You feel yourself sitting up and removing the reading glasses from your face. Mac always finds it odd seeing you like this. Curled up in a mound of blankets and pillows, the smell of fresh wine and a vanilla candle, silk sleep sets laid across your skin, hair piled high on your head. You were so soft compared to the girl in the field. The same girl he watched take down three men in lightning speed today. Now somehow you were in bed with a book. Weird how the world worked.
“Not really tired, is um. Is Desi okay?” you feel bad for not showing much interest in her well being. You just needed some time to think, some time to regain your composure.
“Last I checked yeah, I haven’t seen her for a couple of hours” he admits as he walks in. As he sits at the end of your bed you realize this isn’t uncommon. You two are still friends. No matter what you realized today.
“I thought you were with her?” you give him a puzzled look and he shrugs.
“I was, yeah. Then once I knew she was stable I went back to the Phoenix to fill out a mission report. Then Matty took advantage and got me to catch up on paperwork I’d been avoiding for a while” you can’t help the soft giggle that escapes your lips. Mac was a professional at avoiding the paperwork part of his job but every once in a while Matty could get her way.
“That’s on you for going back” you tell him and he chuckles along with you, head nodding.
“Could I ask you something?” he says once the laughter has quieted down and you find yourself getting exceptionally nervous. He can’t tell.
“Always Mac, it’s kinda my job” you tease which is true. When you were hired at the Phoenix Foundation it was literally to protect Mac in the field. You were pretty sure his name is in your exact job description.
“You’re not on the clock” he says which in a way was true but not really. It wasn’t uncommon for threats to breach your shared home, the minute that happens you’ll be protecting him then too.
“MacGyver, get to the question” you tell him even though you’d rather he walk out and never ask you any questions ever.
“Today you looked, well you never usually look like anything. But today you looked hurt, dare I say heartbroken” and you feel all the air sucked out of the room because you had shown emotions past your exterior and Mac had seen them.
“I don’t know what you mean” but you couldn’t look him in the eyes and he knew. He knew it deep in his bones.
“Look Y/N, maybe I could be wrong. That it was all just concern but if you feel anything for me the way I feel for you than that look was so much more than that�� his words almost didn’t register. Your heart caught them before your head did. It was ramming against your rib cage and your head was snapping towards him because MacGyver of all people just admitted to having feelings for you.
“Feel for me?” you questioned quietly, your eyes locking on his own blue ones. You had seen Mac serious about many things before but somehow this seemed like more.
“Are you kidding me Y/N? Of course I have feelings for you. I spend all of my time with you considering we work and live together. On top of that you are always taking care of me and are the most interesting person I’ve ever met in my life. I was in love with you within a month of knowing you. Jack would always tease me about it” a small squeak left your throat at his confession. Wondering how you had never seen it before.
“Jack knew?” maybe it wasn’t the best question at the moment, but since Jack had passed it was hard to bring him up. Knowing he had passed away and there were things none of you guys got to tell him.
“Yeah, I always promised him I’d tell you how I felt one day and every day since he passed I’ve been breaking that promise more and more. So here I am not breaking it” he told you, a hand running wildly through his hair.
“What about Desi?” you wanted to make sure, needed to make sure.
“She’s just a friend. Most of the time I just flirted with her to get a reaction out of you” this was the most shocking of all. You’d expected him to say he had gained feelings for her too, but now as he sat at the end of your bed staring back at you with hopeful eyes you realized this was never the case.
“So it’s me?” you asked and a smile cracked across his face, a deep chuckle coming out as he dropped his head. His soft blonde locks dangling in front of his eyes.
“Yes Y/N. It’s always been you” he told you once he looked back up, and finally you allowed a real smile to cross your face.
“Well this is a first” you chuckled, hand reaching to grab your glass of wine. You gulped back the last sip and abandoned the empty glass, him watching you closely.
“What is?” he asked once you seemed to have your head straight.
“Having someone return the same feelings I have for them. I mean it usually never happens because I save face when it comes to emotions but here we are. You and me. In my room. Being adult and admitting things like attraction” you blabbered lightly and Mac laughed, a wide grin on his face. You suddenly had the urge to grab hold of the deep red shirt he had on, it matching the color of wine on your lips.
“So you’re admitting you like me too?” he asked and you just rolled your eyes before shoving your book out of your lap.
“Shut up and kiss me MacGyver” and he wasted no time, a devious grin crawling across his face as he moved to climb over to you. The anticipation of him getting closer seemed to take forever but finally he was face to face, arms locked on either side of you, and you took a moment to inspect every inch of him. “I have good taste”
“I do too” and then he was closing the gap between you both. Lips slotting gently against your own. His mouth was warm and soft, much different from his calloused hands. Your fingers tangled in his hair, mussing it around. Kissing him was like taking in a breath of fresh hair and pretty soon his tongue was dipping your mouth, tasting the wine left behind from your leisure afternoon. Tangling your tongue with his own you realize you could stay like this forever, just the two of you, in this room.
“It’s so not fair” you said once you broke apart, foreheads pressed together and heavy breaths panting out of both of you.
“What’s that doll?” he asked and you sighed.
“You’re good at everything else, you can’t be good at that too” and he was laughing, arms wrapping around you as he rolled over and pulled you on top of him.
“Don’t worry, I’ll show you what else I’m good at too”
#macgyver x femreader#macgyver 2016#macgyver imagines#macgyver smut#macgyver x reader#macgyver imagine#macgyver#macgyver trash#mac x reader#angusmacgyver#angus macgyver#angus macgyver x reader#lucas till x reader#lucas till imagines#lucas till fanfiction#lucas till imagine#lucas till#lucas till x femreader#jack dalton#riley davis#wilt bozer#matty webber#macgyver series#macgyver x ofc#macgyver x oc#macgyver requests#macgyver reboot#macgyver x jack#jack x mac#macgyver x riley davis
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retail hell au again because why not. so imagine with me that 141 fellas find you after a miserable customer has made you cry.
warnings: reader!character is experiencing the aftermath of a panic attack/distressing emotions when she’s approached by the boys, nothing explicitly stated but she’s feeling a bit vulnerable.
fem!reader and the use of gendered pet names (hen, love) and use of the word cunt as an insult to describe a customer.
also apologies, i’m english and my grasp on scottish slang/scots has mostly been informed by the wonderful show Still Game which is distinctly glaswegian in flavour and various scottish twitter posts.
so you’re hiding out in the smoking area (lmao smoking area, okay let’s be honest it’s where a bucket filled with sand has been dumped near an ex-display bench about idk 20 feet from the customer entrance) because you just need 5 fucking minutes to compose yourself…
gaz is actually coming back from his lunch break and spots you hunched up on the bench in a way that looks truly uncomfortable. he carefully sits next to you and offers a soft smile when you look over at him. “bad customer?” he’s gentle when he asks and doesn’t make a fuss when you make a truly gross sniffling noise and wipe at your eyes. “want a hug?” you shake your head no and hunch in tighter on yourself. “want a milkshake?” you shrug and he passes over a strawberry milkshake. surprisingly he doesn’t say anything and let’s you drink in peace. you like gaz, he’s always friendly and warm when you interact briefly on the shop floor. he always seems to know what to say or do to get the best out of you and everyone else around him. eventually you check your phone and see it’s been 10 minutes since you left the customer service desk with tears in your eyes and lump burning your throat. embarrassment and residual anxiety washes through you when you recall how you’d all but fled to the safety of the smoker’s bench despite not smoking yourself. gaz catches your shudder when you check the time and knocks his shoulder into yours gently. “don’t worry, i’ll let price know you need a few more minutes, alright?” gaz gets up and heads inside the building, you know he’ll speak to price so you unfurl a little bit and chew on the straw of your milkshake.
soap and simon find you next. soap’s chattering away about the most recent delivery as they both approach your bench. simon stops dead a respectable three feet away but soap throws himself onto the bench bumping his knee into yours “what’s the matter wi’ you then, hen? you’ve a face like a smacked arse”. you shift away from soap, usually you don’t mind his directness but it’s just rubbing you the wrong way right now. you’re still feeling raw and a bit sick from finishing gaz’s milkshake and lingering anxiety. “fucks sake johnny, leave ‘er alone.” simon grumbles and fishes a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket. “how? am just askin’ what’s the matter!” soap’s hands swat the air near your face and you shuffle further along the bench to avoid being hit in the nose in his agitation. “johnny.” simon snaps and soap huffs and folds his arms across his chest. it’s quiet amongst the three of you while simon taps out a cigarette and pats down his pockets looking for a lighter. soap shoots a wink at you and starts playing with a lighter that apparently has just appeared from thin air. “give me my lighter back johnny.” “gies a cigarette an’ i’ll trade it.” “no.” “c’mon simon! wan little cigarette.” “fuck off.” “awright then you miserable bastard.” you shake your head at their bickering and hold out your hand. soap pouts but drops it into your open palm. you lob the lighter in a poor underhand throw to simon who plucks it out of the air easily and nods in appreciation. “aw c’mon hen, that’s no’ playin’ fair!” soap whines and knocks his knee into yours “i thought i was your favourite.” “favourite pain in the arse.” is simon’s dry response around the lit cigarette and you crack a wobbly smile. “there she is! didn’t i tell you si?” soap’s grin is blinding “i knew we could cheer her up!” your wobbly smile starts to resemble more of its usual cheer when you catch simon’s eye roll directed at soap. you open your mouth maybe to defend soap or maybe to provoke him, you haven’t quite decided, when a pointed throat clearing catches your trio’s attention. your smile drops off your face and the anxiety that had started to quiet down in the face of johnny’s cheerfulness rises again in your belly because price is aiming a stern look towards the three of you from only six feet away.
price gently sits next to you on the bench when you’re certain simon and johnny are back inside. johnny squawking about the injustice of having his break cut short and simon calling him an idiot in response as they both disappear through the doors. you open your mouth to apologise for skiving off and offer any reason or explanation that will help your case but your teeth click shut when price holds out a palm to forestall your inevitable word vomit. “i don’t want to hear it, love.” price’s tone isn’t unkind, he’s just shooting straight with you, it’s something you quite admire about him really. “that customer was a cunt quite frankly and i’m proud of you for handling her the way you did.” the praise creates a small glow in your chest and burns away the last of your dread. “but, a word of advice, as the duty manager for today?” price offers a small encouraging smile so you nod. “you’re not paid enough to put up with that shit, so don’t.” you grimace and blow out a breath, you want to argue, maybe even defend yourself and explain that it’s fine really that’s just how retail is. price chuckles “no love, listen. you aren’t paid enough, but i am. so next time it happens, send ‘em my way alright?” price offers another smile when you nod in agreement before pushing himself off the bench. “now, c’mon. i’ve got stock that needs counting down the plumbing aisle and you can give me a hand. no more talking to muppets on the customer service desk today.” you follow price back into the store feeling much better than you did twenty five minutes ago.
the rest of your shift passes by easily enough and you make a mental note to buy gaz a milkshake as a thank you when he shoots you a friendly smile as you pass him on your way out the store on your lunch.
#cod fic#kyle garrick x reader#simon riley x reader#john price x reader#john mactavish x reader#retail hell au#‘p why do you refer to johnny as soap when other characters call him johnny and reader thinks of him as johnny?’#because dear reader of my nonsense i am easily confused by johnny and john#‘but p you refer to john as price’ yeah i know i messed up there but here we are and now i’m too lazy to change it#maybe if i do singular character x reader interactions or singular character headcannons i’ll use john and johnny#also this got pretty soap and ghost heavy so apologies to any gaz and price fans#i just loved writing the ghost and soap banter that i couldn’t stop#jp#jm#kg#sr
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The scares we share [Leon Kennedy Soulmate AU] [Part 2]
Summary: Leon and you are sharing more than just beauty tips in his home.
Warnings: Mild smut minors dni, groping, mentions about scars and body issues, slight angst, fluff, nervous/anxious Leon
PART 1 HERE
"Are you hurt?"
Leon glanced to the side, grabbing the plastic lid of the lotion that he carelessly put aside a moment ago. You could see how tense he was just from your question alone, and he pretended to put the focus on that single piece of plastic that he tried to screw back on the top of the lotion. His mind pondered how to answer you, and you patiently waited while watching his fingers play with the product in his hands. The poor man must have seen some things when such a question caught him off guard like that.
A few minutes passed, and his lips curled into a smile while he placed the lotion down on his desk. Only know were you able to see the scratched label on the front of the lotion. Leon must be a pretty nervous and pend-up person despite the first impressions that you got in the past. Just the thought about what he must have experienced to get such a trait left you frowning.
The man saw that newfound frown on your lips, and his expression quickly dropped once again, mimicking yours with a hint of panic. He must think that his long silence displeases you. "We have a good medic team at the military, so I am -" The way you shake your head makes his heart drop deep, and he immediately shuts up, holding his breath. The broken fingernails of his started to scratch on the lotion label once more, giving him something to do while waiting for your input.
"It's a stupid question. Especially because I think I already know the answer... but are you okay? Are you feeling hurt?" In this moment, you didn't thought but your hands started to act on their own. They gently pulled Leon close against your chest, letting him rest his head on your shoulders. It caught both of you off guard, but it was soothing, and none of you dared to pull away. "I am. When I found out about my soulmate...about you...I wished I wouldn't have one. The scars made me insecure." Honesty started to come out of you, and Leon listened carefully. "The scars made me cover up my arms, and I hated my body so much."
Leon noticed how tense you got, your fingernails digged gently into his shoulders as you held him with a tight grip, scared that he would suddenly disappear. But the man stayed put, melding into your touch with calm breaths. "But then I realized it's okay. There will be someone in the future who will like me, even in times when I don't like myself. And I found that someone." You gently placed your cheek on the top of his head, closing your eyes to savor the moment. "I found you, Leon."
Leon finally glanced up, trying to meet your eyes with his gaze, and he genuinely smiled. "Never had to search me in first place, darling. We are bound by fate." It caught you by suprise when he took your arm into his hand once more. The rough skin of his thumb runs over the scars on your arm that he previously treated, and he leaned down to kiss that spot.
"Also...will you let me treat the other scars too?" You blink a few times after he asked you. The roles are reversed and now Leon is the one that got you in a tight spot with a question, and that idiot is even enjoying it fully. His hand placed itself on your collarbone, moving down to the middle of your chest till it reached your stomach. The touch left tingles down your spine and you could feel your panties getting wet by his innocent actions. Leon actually managed to dodge your emotional questions by clouding your mind with his shared lust.
"Only if you want to. I'm not pushing you to anything, okay?" Leon was still cautious and responsible as he checks for your well-being despite his low chuckle. His hands doesn't move further till you give him a clear okay to do so. And he got you. You nod with a small smile, giving him the consent he needed all along. "Just let me do the work, sweetheart. I'll show you how amazing you actually are." His lips are dangerously close to your ear as he gently blows against it with his warm breath. It almost distracted you from his large hand that already found his way under your shirt, teasing your stiff nipples under your bra.
His other hand started to take off the lid of the lotion once more, dipping two of his long fingers into the cold creamy white lotion to guide it towards your stomach. The ice cold touch of the substance against your sensitive skin makes you flinch but Leon had you tight in his grip, pulling you closer against his hot body. "Stay still, princess."
Another generous load got spread across your tits after Leon lifted your shirt and opened your bra to expose your chest to the air. His big hands perfectly cup your chest as he massages the lotion into your skin, giving some extra treatment and stimulation to your nipples. The way he teasingly squeezed them sometimes left you squirming and panting in his touch, whining that he shouldn't tease you so much.
"Hold still, we are far from done." This was a personal promise because you could feel his massive buldge in his pants press against you, leaving you with the imagination what he has in store next.
#leon kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#resident evil fanfiction#leon kenendy fluff#leon kennedy fanfic#leon kennedy smut#resident evil smut#minors dni
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Hey everyone.
Maybe some of you have noticed that my writing's been super sporadic since like June (if you haven't that's very okay) but I just wanted to write a little bit about what's been happening in my life because it's had a pretty big impact on my writing.
It turns out that I'm actually ace.
So, if you happen to notice an uptick in me writing fics with ace characters who still get to be loved, I'm just trying to process a thing.
Please feel free to skip the rest of this post if you're not interested in the harrowing journey of self discovery. I am absolutely giving too much information about my life, I'm just really working at processing everything and I'm hoping writing it out will help. And honestly, there have been some beautiful souls in the Tumblr community who have given me some beautiful encouragement (including but not limited to @basicallyahedgehog who answered an anon ask I sent them the other day with so much kindness and encouragement because I'd bawled my eyes out about one of their fics featuring ace Harry/Draco.).
(Anyway. If you want to read a ramble about all of the things I'm struggling with at the present moment, I'm gladly accepting advice and kindness at this time. Please read below the cut and chime in if you have anything hopeful to add.)
For most of my life I've pretty comfortably called myself a "picky bi" and in the past couple of years have labeled myself "demisexual" because I'm not sex repulsed; I've had sex, it was fine/good when it's with someone who I'm in love with. I moved on from the labeling, content with the label I'd given myself and whatnot.
It's been a minute (read: 8+ years) since I've been in a relationship that got to the point where I've considered having sex but I didn't really think all that much of it. In retrospect, I think this is largely because I've grown a lot in terms of self respect and honoring my own autonomy. Somewhere around 25, I started saying no when I didn't want something and if the other person didn't respect that decision they were not worth my time.
Anyway, it didn't really occur to me that perhaps going nearly a decade without thinking about/wanting to have sex with anyone (and without experiencing even vague aesthetic attraction to someone with only the odd exception here and there- some of you saw that post a couple of months ago, apparently just having the thought that someone is pretty isn't the same as attraction that allo people experience- so that panic now seems pretty unnecessary. It literally boggles my mind that people can just see a person they've never met and want to have sex with them. Anyway, I'm digressing.) Apparently, it's not a common occurrence even among demisexuals to go that long without thinking about sex if you have emotional intimacy with people (which I do). So fast forward to June when I went to a conference for lgbtqia christians and started listening to people talk about attraction.
To say that my experience of attraction and desire for sex is profoundly different than that of nearly all of the people that I talked to at that conference would be an understatement.
After that conference, I started talking to a lot of friends about their experience of attraction and their desire for sex (eventually this also included some new friends who are demi/ace) and have been a little flabbergasted by their responses. Suddenly, in light of the fact that my body doesn't interpret a lot of things the way that other peoples' seem to, a lot of things started to make sense.
I've been called a flirt (at best, and a [cock]tease in more unpleasant moments) my entire life because I always want to give people gentle physical affection; I love holding hands, touching people on the arm while we're having a conversation, playing with peoples' hair, hugging, leaning, the list is long- none of those things have ever felt like flirting to me. Every one of those actions was the end in itself, there was no artifice in my touches, no desire or even thought for more, but APPARENTLY that is not the thing that happens in a lot of peoples' bodies. It is incomprehensible to me that simple, affectionate touches are not something that everyone just wants to do to anyone that they harbor platonic affection for. This also applies to the way that I communicate with people. Again, I've been called a flirt, been told that I'm intense, been told that I'm trying to 'steal' peoples' boy/girl friends simply by being friends with them. APPARENTLY, showing "too much" interest in other peoples' lives and hobbies is flirting. APPARENTLY, getting really excited for people who are excited and doing cool things is flirting. Because (or so I have been told) the emotional energy I expend is too much to just be friends; surely, I have another angle.
Next, in terms of attraction, I experience attraction to beautiful things in nature in the same way that I experience it to people. If I'm being honest, nature makes my heart sing in a way that people usually don't. I can get caught up in the beauty of the world; the vastness of the ocean for literal hours, in the majesty of the mountains, the strength of trees, the way water carves a path through the rocks in glens and waterfalls. The world takes my breath away, it makes me weep just to exist in nature. Apparently, this in not everyone's experience of nature and apparently, many people who want to have sex don't think that trees, or bodies of water, or mountains have as much (or more, in my humble opinion) appeal than humans.
It's come to my attention that even the way that I have experienced heart break from relationships where I was "in love" and having sex is not the way that people typically experience heartbreak. All heart break feels the same to me; grieving leaving a job, grieving the death of a loved one, grieving horrible things that happen to my students, grieving the loss of friendships, and grieving the loss of a relationship feel like the same heart break. (Like some of those things hurt worse than others but the heart break over the loss of a relationship isn't worse.) One of my friends mentioned that I grieve the passing of summer into autumn (I fucking hate the winter) like the loss of a relationship and I wish I could say that she is wrong. I've been told my whole life that I experience my emotions too big and I just can't help but wonder if there is some sort of correlation there, but I digress.
The literal dream for my life is to have someone who wants to get in the car or on a plane and travel with me. Someone who I can make coffee for in the mornings and who wants to cook me dinner at night. Someone who wants to sit on the couch after a long day at work and talk about nothing, or watch a show, or just exist together. Someone who wants to dance with me in the kitchen, and hold my hand while we walk, who wants to smile at me while I ramble about nature. I want someone who wants to hold me when I cry, who wants to listen to me when I'm mad, someone who will remind me to take a break when I'm working too hard. The only thing that I actually want from a partner is just someone to do life with. It's not that I'm opposed to sex, it's just that it literally doesn't matter.
(So many things in past relationships, so many fights, so many of the reasons that I was left, so many things that I JUST DIDN'T UNDERSTAND make sense now. Or at least they're starting to.)
So. In the process of understanding this complete fuckery, of trying to put all of the pieces that haven't quite made sense in my life into order, in the end of July my best friend told me that she's in love with me.
And on the one hand, I'm fucking over the moon, delighted, honored, speechless, crazy-happy. She's literally the best person I have ever known, she's the kindest, sweetest, most loyal, loving, amazing human being to ever exist. She loves me so well, so completely, like all of the things that I said above that are my dream; that is her. We road trip together, and she lets me braid her hair, and we snuggle on the couch and watch movies, and we talk for hours (literally hours, when we road trip we go for 7-10 days at a time and I like do not shut the fuck up for more than like 5 minutes total the entire day and she loves me; loves listening to me talk about whatever is in my brain), and when I'm going on and on about how pretty things are in nature she looks at me like I'm the pretty thing (when I say, 'oh my gosh. that mountain, tree, lake, ocean, etc. is so beautiful.' she literally says 'you're so beautiful' and I am deceased, my heart can't take it, I can't fucking stop smiling- I don't even want to), and she lets me info dump about whatever I'm learning, and she loves my brain and my stupid adhd, and she plays me sappy love songs and sings them to me (and she sings in my car, sings to me even though she doesn't sing in front of people) and and and... she makes me feel like I'm good. She makes me feel like I'm all of the things that other people have said I'm not.
And I am constantly terrified of hurting her.
There are a variety of reasons we're not planning on having sex (partially because it's not really something that I want) that I'm not going to get into but I'm afraid of being what I've been to other people. I'm afraid of her feeling like I'm pushing her buttons because I just always want to be touching her (very platonically) like just having our shoulders bumping while we walk, or putting my head on her shoulder when we're on the couch, or letting our elbows press against one another while we're in the car. BUT what happens in our bodies when we're touching like that is really different. Like I described above, for me any type of touch is really the end goal in and of itself (if I'm braiding her hair, it's safe to assume that that is all I want to be doing. If I'm leaning against her on the couch, that too is what I'm wanting.) But that's not always how her body wants to interpret touch, even if she logically knows that I'm not intentionally teasing (she would never say that she feels like I'm trying to tease her, for the record, it's just the easiest way for me to articulate what it feels like could be happening).
And I love her so much, like so much; I'd do anything for her but it's not the same kind of love that she feels for me. By which I mean that she is just really gay and actively attracted to me emotionally/physically but for me if she started dating someone else, I'd be actually fine with that. If she was dating/having sex with someone I wouldn't be jealous, as long as we still get to be friends. (And maybe her dating would necessarily change the dynamic of our friendship and that would be really hard but that's a different mental exercise.) This isn't the way that she feels.
She is so special and important to me but even the way that we are aware of the other person's presence is different. For me, if I'm in a group of people and she's there, I'm aware of that on some level but it's not at the forefront of my mind. My brain is always sort of 'triaging' the people around me when they're my friends; who's being too quiet? who has been going through a rough patch with work/family, etc? who has an exciting new thing they need someone to squeal about with them? who hasn't been included in the conversation in too long? (see the paragraph above about flirting. haha.) She's there but she often isn't the first person I'm thinking about because I talk to her almost every day, I get to love her every day, and odds are good that we either drove together or will talk on the phone our way home from the event- I see the other people there less, so my brain just prioritizes them since I have less time to love them. (This is actually really good, healthy progress for me in terms of healthy attachment and not forming a codependent relationship. My therapist and I are really proud of the work I'm doing, but I'm digressing again.) For her, though, she always knows exactly where I am. It is work for her to pay attention to other conversations, work to be in a different room. In most situations, I am the person she defaults to thinking about and wanting to be near and she has to actively choose other things if she wants to. (And I don't mean to sound like an absolute asshole, it's not like I ignore her or anything, and I'm delighted for us to be in the same conversations, it's just a different way that we engage with the world.)
I love her so much. And I'm afraid of messing everything up. Of hurting her. Of asking too much of her without asking for anything at all. I try to let her be the one to initiate physical touch (or I ask first) because sometimes it's too hard on her body and that's fair. I feel frustrated with the different ways that we experience love for each other because the way that she loves me feels so good and safe to me and it makes me feel so happy. I'm afraid that the way that I love her doesn't feel as nice for her, that it feels less than, that the way I express my love and devotion isn't as good. I'm afraid that the way she loves me is going to wear her out. She always says she knows I love her just as much as she loves me, it's just different. She says she's okay, she says that the way I love her is good for her and she's happy. But it's hard to believe.
I'm afraid that she'll fall in love with someone else who can love her the way she loves and I won't matter to her anymore (partially because that's been my experience of people who have said they're in love with me). I'm afraid.
Is it even fair to entertain the idea of maybe having a whole life together? (we're already entertaining the ideas, already daydreaming about 'what if we lived together', where we're going on our next road trip, etc. And I'm terrified.) Is it asking her to give up too much? I would spend the rest of my life with her. I'd be good and kind to her, I would love her with so much tenderness. But is it enough? Am I enough with just the things that I have to give? Is it actually possible for someone to love me for just me and not for the ways that I could contort myself to be something I'm not?
I recognize the irony in what I'm asking. I know that that's what all of these hundreds of stories I've written here say, it's what I want to believe. But is it even possible when it's reality?
I don't know. Does anyone have any good advice? Any ace people out there living with a person who's in love with them? Does anyone have something that's lasted?
#please send help#c rambles#i'm ace and i'm having a hard time with it#genuinely- I do know this is way too much information#I won't blame anyone if no one reads all of this#but i'll love you forever if you reply with something that makes me feel a little less lost and terrified#ace
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Hello!! May I request 6. I Won't Say I'm in Love from Hercules with Malleus? I'm quite the malleus connoisseur !! ❤️😭 Thank you!!! <333
Hi!!! Idk why but this one was hard for me to write 😅. I tried to keep the song in mind while writing it. It ended up being less of "I Won't Say I'm in Love" and more of "I didn't know I was in love. ft Lilia" I hope that this fits since you are a Malleus connoisseur!
Note: Malleus is oblivious to love. Small Spongebob, Ice Age, and Frozen reference
Word Count: 844
Warnings: not beta read and possible OOC characters
"Lilia-"
"Ahem," Lilia, wearing his long lab coat, cleared his throat from his spot on the couch.
Malleus sighed as he lay on his bed with his hands on his stomach. His mind was jumbled with thoughts about the Prefect. Lately, she has been stuck in his mind, and Malleus had to consult Lilia for his wisdom, but was Lilia rearranging his own room into a doctor's clinic necessary? "Doctor Lilia."
"Much better. Now what are you here for?" Lilia smiled and returned to writing his shopping list on his clipboard. Malleus did not need to know that.
"It's about the Prefect."
Lilia nodded and jotted more items down. "What conditions are you experiencing right now?"
"That I want to be next to her right now."
Lilia hummed in thought. He waved his hand, and some mist appeared. Inside the mist was a Yuu smiling at Malleus, "How would you feel when you see Yuu?"
Malleus sighed for the nth time that day, "Well, I would feel happy like when I get ice cream, excited because I am spending time with her because I could tell her more gargoyle facts, my chest gets this feeling when I see her, I can trust her with Gao-Gao Drakon-kun…."
Hours had passed, and the sun was beginning to set when Malleus was still rambling and didn't look like he was going to stop.
Meanwhile, Lilia had already dispersed the mist and focused on how to scare his sons instead.
I can scare Sebek and Silver if I draw a ghost on the other side of this shopping list, put it on a fishing rod, and hang it in front of their faces. Khee hee hee, those boys will be in for a treat.
"And she occupies my thoughts day and night! Thinking about her now makes me want to praise her for everything, almost like Rook."
"What would you do if someone? Let's use Leona, had the same feelings you felt for her now?" Malleus frowned. If looks could kill, then the roof would have a big hole going through it. The sound of thunder could be heard nearby. Lilia held up a hand and shook his head. He already knew his answer. "Malleus, I know what you're experiencing, but first, let me give you a hint so you can figure it out."
Malleus sat up and crossed his arms. "Aren't you supposed to be the one to diagnose me?"
"Hush, who is the doctor here? Now, it states with an L.."
Malleus' eyes widen in shock, "Leprosy!"
Lilia chuckled, "No, no! Not that. It's four letters and ends with an e."
"Starts with an l. It is four letters and ends with an e," Malleus whispered to himself. His chin rested on his fist while his face was deep in thought. There was only one word that came to mind.
"Lice?"
Lilia could not hold back his laugh. In fact, he could not stop laughing (he even threw his head back and slapped his knee) for a whole ten minutes.
"Are you done?" Malleus asked with a frown on his face.
"Ha ha…phew…I have not laughed like that in so long! Yes, Malleus. I am now. What you're experiencing is love."
Malleus' mouth opened up in a small o, "Love…can you explain it, Lilia."
"Love is both a physical and emotional feeling. It can turn your cheeks red and give you butterflies in your stomach. Not literal ones, of course, but it feels like it. Love is also putting one's needs before your own."
"I see…" Malleus trailed off, deep in thought.
Lilia chuckled, "What do you think love is?"
"Whenever I think or see the Child of Man, I feel happy. I felt the butterflies after she gave me a ticket to the VDC. She is also one of the few people who was not scared of me after knowing my identity. She even has similar interests to me. If she asked me to get her a rose from Briar Valley, I would do it. If she wanted me to follow her to the end of the universe for her, then I would; she is the Earth and Heaven to me. Had she gotten injured by Schoenheit’s overblot, I would have been devastated…. " Malleus looked up at Lilia, the realization set in his face, "Love is Yuu. I love Yuu."
Lilia smirked, "Took you long enough to realize it. You always have a lovestruck face when you see her. I'm surprised that you never concealed it."
Malleus ignored Lilia and shot straight out of his bed with a determined look, "I need to go."
"Where are you going?"
"I need to tell Yuu I love her! Thank you for helping me, Lilia!" Malleus disappeared, leaving a small trail of light where he once stood.
Lilia stood up and brushed off the imaginary dust off his coat, "Kids these days," he chuckled and grabbed his clipboard, "Now let me do my shopping at Sam's. I hope he has a fishing rod in stock, khee hee hee."
400 event is still open!!
Disclaimer: I do not own Twisted Wonderland and its characters. Those belong to Aniplex, Walt Disney Japan, and Yana Toboso.
©: This story belongs to bluesylveon2 2020-23. DO NOT modify, republish, or plagiarize my work.
#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#twst#twst x reader#malleus draconia x reader#malleus x reader#malleus x yuu#malleus draconia#thank you for the ask!#400 follower event
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Hello. I am having a difficult time coping with the loss of a pet. Could I request Scaramouche, Childe, and Tighnari comforting an SO who has just lost a pet?
Hello anon!!! Sorry it took me a bit to get around to this. I am very sorry for your loss, I know the feeling well and it is hard no matter if it’s your first pet or your tenth. Sending love 💜
How They Comfort After You Lose A Pet (Scaramouche, Childe, Tighnari)
Scaramouche:
Admittedly, he wouldn’t get why you were making such a big deal about it at first. It’s not that he doesn’t understand why you’re grieving, but he would be mystified as to why you’re coming to him about it
He would awkwardly say “Sorry for your loss…” and maybe put a hand on your shoulder to give you comfort
Scara wouldn’t have his usual look of disdain or biting remarks; he knows to pull back the attitude while you’re going through a hard time
When you fall asleep or leave for a while, he is going to secretly make you a stuffed animal that looks like your lost pet and leave it on your pillow
He will totally deny that he is the one who made it, but when he thinks you aren’t looking he will smile softly at how you’re admiring what he made you
Overall, Scaramouche isn’t the best at comforting, but he certainly tries to put his best foot forward. He’s better at indirectly making you feel better rather than talking through your grief
Childe:
The minute he sees you crying, he will internally panic, expecting the absolute worst news possible
Hearing that your beloved pet has passed away, Childe will take the time to pick you up and find a comfortable spot just to hold you for a while and talk
He’s very experienced with making people feel better thanks to his siblings, so he would pretty much have all his bases covered
Childe is going to hold you, soothingly rub your back or arms as you cry, and tell you that it’s going to be okay. He lets you cry as much as you need to, because he knows it is important
He’ll ask what you need him to do, whether it’s helping you take care of yourself, leaving you alone to grieve, or helping take your mind off things. Your wish is his command, he just wants to do what you think will help
He hates to see you this sad, but he is happy that he gets to show you how much he loves and cares about you. Childe does wish it was under better circumstances, as he had also grown fond of your pet
He makes you a nice little shrine or memorial for your lost pet, making sure to engrave the name or any other important details. Having something dedicated to their memory would help you he feels
Tighnari:
Seeing you cry puts him into alert mode, thinking that you must be sick or hurt as you’re coming to him with tears in your eyes
Upon learning that your pet has passed away, some of the tension leaves his shoulders since he is relieved that you aren’t physically hurt
Tighnari will sit you down and make you a nice cup of herbal tea to calm you, and will soothingly stroke your hair or back as you drink
He would focus on talking you through your grief; he’s no therapist, but he isn’t a complete fool when it comes to helping people cope with things
He reminds you that though your pet is no longer here, you gave them the best life they could have hoped for; full of endless love and affection
It pained him to see you grieve, but he tells you that it is better to make sure that you cry and grieve properly instead of bottling up your emotions.
A bit of his mother hen side will come out, and he will insist that you stay properly hydrated. He wouldn’t want you to dehydrate yourself with your tears
#genshin#genshin impact#genshin headcanons#genshin imagines#genshin x reader#reader insert#anon asks#genshin imagine#genshin impact headcanons#childe x reader#Childe#tartaglia#tartaglia x reader#Tighnari#tighnari x reader#Again I’m sorry for your loss anon
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sex etiquette, free therapy & sincericide (david 8 x reader)
summary: David has many skills built into his design. Luckily for (y/n), trying is one of them.
warnings: swearing, nakedness, mentions of smut, slight angst, fluff
words: 1.0k
notes: hiii. i missed writing for him. could be read as a continuation to love or trust, or a standalone. either way i hope you enjoy x
David is oddly amusing after sex. He will awkwardly, although conceptually contradictory to his unhuman nature, walk to the bathroom and just stay there for a whole minute. Then he will come back — still without a word —, with his perfect naked body only illuminated by the low blue light in (y/n)’s quarters and frozen blue eyes that advert from hers at any cost. And it’s in that moment her gaze meets his, briefly, that sometimes she wonders if he ever regrets paying her those visits at night.
Ever since the crew awakened, (y/n) couldn’t help but notice the difference of treatment David displayed between her and their colleagues. It was as subtle as a lingering touch whenever he brought her tea, or as blatant as his toothy smile directed at her whilst she studied some coordinates for the next expedition. Either way, it simply seemed impossible to escape the android’s overwhelming attention over herself. He hovered like a heavy cloud, but caused its opposite effect on the girl with his somewhat disconcerting warm presence. So, it was only natural their acquaintance would grow to be more intimate as time went on, resulting on that strange, casual relationship of theirs.
It didn’t have a name or a clear goal. For now, (y/n) enjoyed his company — and his bedside manners, of course — very much and enough to want him around even after having sex. And that’s why his alien demeanour bothered her so much. Granted, this time she just had to speak up.
“You always do that”, she muses.
Sitting right next to her on the bed, mimicking the way her body is inclined on the headboard, David looks up at last. He has a neutral expression that turns into light confusion, flexing his eyebrows. “Always do what?”
“You stand there, quiet, distant, as if you weren’t almost fucking me through a wall just now”, her tone is obviously comic, but it doesn’t seem to affect David that much. “I’m just kidding, by the way.”
“I know”, he says, not really showing any sign of contempt. But then again, he never really did. His blonde hair is dishevelled and (y/n) puts it on place, causing him to flash her a smile before continuing, “and I am aware I have quite a lot to learn about sex etiquette.”
“It’s more than that and you know it, David.”
He frowns. “I don’t follow.”
“Are you afraid?”, she then asks, taking a deep breath when the crease on his forehead only thickens. “Of us? Of me? Does this thing we have... I don’t know, frighten you?”
His faint smile flutters a bit as his eyes travel the room. “I wouldn’t say fright. I believe I am incapable of experiencing such thing, as it is not in my design”, as low as his voice is, she can hear him clearly, yet his tone gives her nothing to consider. David is just plain about things, and although (y/n) appreciated his honesty, in that moment she only felt annoyed by it. Noticing her sour face, David inquires, “have I upset you with my words?”
“Not really”, she shrugs, but fails to convince him of her lie. The girl sighs in defeat, closing her eyes for a second. “I just... I can’t understand how you can do what you do with me, hold me close, kiss me so passionate, and tell me that this is all just part of your design. It is not. I can’t... I can’t accept that.”
“That is not what I meant, and you didn’t let me finish my sentence.”
“So finish it.”
“You don’t frighten me, but I must admit I am uncertain of this relationship”, David explains, gazing intently at her. “You are aware of my limitations. I am not human, and I can’t provide you with the fulfilment a male of your species would and that which you probably will need, eventually. Emotional and physical wise.”
(y/n) only hums in thought, nodding once. She then opens up her bathrobe, revealing her naked body to his eyes one more time. “What do you think when you look at me?”, she offers him a small grin, caressing her own curves as she waits for his answer. Some of his liquid remains still ran down her inner thighs and it almost aroused her again, but she contained herself. That question was important.
David’s eyes scan her up and down as he states with a gravelly voice, “I think about having you for myself forever.”
There is pause, and her insides burn with his words. (y/n) then scoffs, shaking her head as she covers herself again. “David, you can’t say things like that.”
With genuinely curious eyes, he retorts, “why?”
“Because I am alone in this giant piece of metal floating in middle of space for two years. And then you tell me this. How am I supposed to react?”
“I simply responded your inquiry, (y/n)”, he mumbles, and there is no indignation to his voice. It is collected as ever, although his confused expression just gave way to a slightly more concerned one. “I don’t see how I could help your feelings, and I am truly sorry for that. However, perhaps... I could try.”
“You can’t, David”, (y/n) sighs, taking his hand into her own. His pale fingers instantly curl against hers and she can’t hide a sad smile looking at them. “Nobody can, I guess. I’m just using you as my free therapist at this point, that’s all.”
David stares at her for a moment and simply nods. “Do continue, then.”
She shakes her head, another bitter smile painting her lips as she does so. “You know what? Forget I ever said anything, you’re right. You can’t and shouldn’t have to help me. Let’s just fuck again and call it a night.”
David stops (y/n) halfway when she tries to straddle his body, raising his brows in a quick realization. “But I want to”, he whispers, squeezing her arms as he holds her in place. He then lets her continue to move onto his hips, pulling her close enough to feel her hot breath against his mouth. David grins at the surprise spread on her features, brushing their lips together, “do you?”
They kiss, eventually, and his tongue takes her places (y/n) didn’t think were possible in the middle of nowhere. His embrace around her waist gives only enough room for her to catch her breath, before she rests her forehead over his.
“Try me.”
#david 8 x reader#prometheus x reader#david 8 imagine#prometheus imagine#michael fassbender x reader#michael fassbender#michael fassbender imagine#prometheus#david 8
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Copia and young reader
Copia comforts crying reader then puts them to bed, eepy shenanigans ensue
Hurt/comfort, mostly just comfort though, healing my inner child one dad Copia fic at a time 💪💪💪
Notes: I am quite happy with how this turned out, hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing :)
.
.
.
“I’m not-I’m-”, you cringe inwardly at how shaky your voice is, how you’re unable to even stammer out an explanation. Copia’s face softens.
“Oh, little one…” he murmurs, shifting closer to you slowly, hands hovering as if he was scared of startling you.
The softness of his tone and the gentle way he takes both of your hands in his is too much to bear, causing you to burst into a fresh bout of tears.
He shifts forward, wrapping his arms around your trembling form and pulling you into him. You press your face into his chest, hands clinging to the soft fabric of his T-shirt. He rocks you back and forth as you sob, murmuring in Italian as his hand rubs up and down your back steadily, his other hand coming up to cup your head.
The two of you stay like that for a while until your sobs begin to make your breathing jerky and uneven. He notices this and pulls away, cupping your face in his hands.
“Hey, hey, tesoro, I need you to listen to me solo un momento. Okay?”
You nod shakily, still gasping and hiccuping for air.
"I need you to take a deep breath in…", He demonstrates for you, breathing in deeply through his nose. You try your best to copy him, sucking in air through your nose very carefully so as not to lose control over your breathing again.
“... Very good, very good. You’re doing so well for me.” He praises you, smiling encouragingly.
“Aaaaand out….” He blows out a breath through his mouth. You again attempt to follow his lead, but your breath comes out as more of a shudder, the sensation causing you to then let out a small, broken whimper.
“Hush little one, It’s okay, you’re okay.” He wraps his arms around you once again as he reassures you, rubbing your back again to try and soothe you.
“Try again for me, hmm? I just know you can do it.”
So you try again, it takes a few tries before you’re able to breathe deeply but Copia gives you space to focus, only speaking to offer you quiet encouragement.
After a few minutes of trial and error, you finally manage to take a deep breath without difficulty and oh the relief you felt when you finally were able to exhale without complication, the feeling alone is almost enough to bring you to tears all over again.
Copia beams at you, his gaze kind.
“What did I say, eh? Well done, topolino”, he praises you, holding you close to him. You’re silent for a while, still coming down from how wound up you were, then he speaks again, softly, so as not to disturb you too much.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
You sniffle, mulling it over.
“Tomorrow?”, you ask timidly, your voice soft and slightly husky from the crying. You know you can always talk to him about things, but you just feel too fragile tonight to talk about your feelings. You just want to feel safe. You just want him.
“Of course, little one”, he says, his voice hushed, because he knows you get extra sensitive to sensory input on bad days. “For now we should get you to bed, hmm? I’m sure you’re tired after experiencing such big emotions, no?” You’re just about to protest, but cut yourself off with an involuntary yawn. Copia chuckles, tilting his head down to look at you, then tenderly cups your face, swiping his thumbs across the tops of your cheeks. You lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut.
“Oh dear,” he coos. “Let’s get you to sleep, kiddo”
“Mmm…Okay”, you reply, too tired to protest.
With that, he swoops you into his arms, heading towards your room. Without setting you down he manages to grab your pyjamas and your favourite soft toy from off of your bed, he also retrieves your phone charger, knowing that you would grumble over your phone being dead in the morning. He looks around your room fondly before he heads out, smiling at the little photo wall you had. It was all photos of the memories that you had made in your short time at the Ministry, as well as a few of your closest friends and pets from before. You had crept right into everyone’s hearts, Copia’s especially. He is endlessly delighted that you were able to find a home in the Ministry, endlessly delighted to know you. He sighs, giving the photo wall one last glance before taking you to bed.
…
Some time later you’re lying curled up in Copia’s bed, laying with your head on his chest, the steady thumping of his heart lulling you further and further towards sleep. One of his hands has been running up and down your back to keep you nice and relaxed. You’re still fighting sleep though, eyes fluttering, straining to stay open. He glances down at you and sighs when he sees you’re still awake.
“Rest child, please” he whispers, his own voice thick with sleep. “You do not have to worry, I’ll be right here with you all night. You’re safe.”
You press even closer against him, nuzzling your cheek against the soft fabric of his t-shirt, feeling completely and utterly content. Your breathing finally evens out as you drift off to sleep, his soft reassurances finally allowing you to let go.
“Dormi bene, kiddo.”
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hey have we thought about girldad!luke yet hehehe
i have not but now i am heeheehee
luke castellan x happy endings (i say as im writing angst blurbs but hey)
girldad!luke would be so cute! i think honestly (fuckin....betrayal and all that shit aside) with the way he's been surrounded by some strong female friends in his formative years and the way he loves his mom (you literally can cuff me rn if yall think he doesnt---misguided anger isn't a lack of love especially experiencing rough emotions as a child)
i think he would be an awesome girl dad and be so attentive to his little girl's needs and wants. would die for her. also imagine him as the dad who threatens her date with a shotgun when he insists on her getting picked up from the house and being back before curfew (the pout she gives after she's five minutes late would warm his heart though---big softie)
all kisses on her forehead and holding her hand and carrying her until she's too big
can i ever answer a question normally? the answer is no
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This has been sitting in my drafts unfinished for MONTHS.
I don't have a large audience here but every single reblog can go a long way! So, if you, dearest reader, decide to indulge in one of those treasures I encourage you to give something back by spreading the goodness and/or giving some love and feedback to the authors!
This is a collection of stories that stuck with me and that I keep coming back to and I'll tell you why as good as I can and without spoilering. (in no particular order.)
death and the maiden by @fairyysoup
One of the first Eddie fics I read when I crashed into the fandom here on tumblr. It's immersive, it's creative, the lore is detailed but leaves enough mystery to hold tension. The insights into Eddie's inner world are written with so much care and humor; it's heartbreaking and adorable and there was not one dull minute of reading.
river monster Eddie by @courtingchaos
This just grabbed me by the throat and pulled me under. It's so dreamy, so soft and still sharp. Meg's writing makes me smell the dirt, the mossy riverside, the minerals of the rocks we rest on. Our Monster Boi is mysterious, he has character that is shining through even the smallest actions: curious, playful, rough. I want to know everything about his life and what he does to pass the time.
this dreamy blurb by @chestylarouxx
Em is the master of illuminating the beauty of the ordinary, of painting big pictures with few words and unleashing avalanches of emotions in subtle ways that will worm under your skin before you realise what's happening. I read this short piece more times than I can count. The intimacy, the softness that is never just sweet but goes even deeper because there is also the sour lurking around the edges. (Or vigorously slapping your face, but I like that, you know?)
the Store Manager Verse by @jo-harrington
So this kinda hit me unexpectedly. I am usually not remotely interested in retail settings but I am invested in this! The setting is simple, but never dull! The sting of everyday struggles, everyday drama and the fact that you can't escape yourself, that you take your demons with you wherever you go is met with the beauty of caring for others, of making the best out of subpar situations, of making the most out of a little, of taking a leap of faith despite being scared shitless to fall. Eddie is a well-rounded character, no flawless dream boy but a little mess with a golden heart who's trying so hard. Too hard, sometimes. I love him dearly. Go read this.
last string to sever by @dr-aculaaa
There is this quality to Dracs words: like when you enter someone's living space and the light, the shapes and colours, the smell just make sense. They invite you into something unique, something intimate, filled with nuance and dept that I have to take breaks sometimes to untangle everything I just experienced. This story is heavy, is brutal and mean and it stings but it's not just stepping down on you until you can't breathe anymore. Drac leaves cracks in the concrete and through those you can see a way ahead, a reason within. The care between the characters, the hands reaching even after they have been slapped away. The relationships are distinctive. And The Longing! Nothing I could write here would capture it all. This text is insufficient. Have your own taste.
it's been a long year by @myosotisa
Again a prime example of painting big pictures with few words. The relationships in this run so deep that the scene unravelling before our eyes hits you like a freight train. It's visceral in exactly the right amount; the physical pain and not overshadowing the weight of lives cut short but accentuating it. It's so tender and soft and full of gutwrenching gratitude laced between the horror... I'm choking up writing this (not kidding).
I'm just a sucker (for you) by @bettyfrommars
Betty, Betty, Betty. Highly imaginative, an impressive range and such a sense for detail and the small things that make the difference between a nice story and a story that will stay with you for a while. This short story had all my earthly senses engaged within seconds: Fall was everywhere, the smell of popcorn mingled with the earthy scent of the season. This is one of my favourite Eddie characterisations so far. He's so alive, so sweet and awkward and silly, daring but shy. You made him a complex, believable guy and all contained in so few words. I am kneeling before your greatness.
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