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#like i’m so tired of being single and alone!!!
heavnlyhetfield · 6 months
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my 2024 resolution is to get a metalhead gf
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princeofhags · 10 months
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act 3, or as I like to call it: Orin PLEASE stop negging me
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whoblewboobear · 28 days
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Knowing that I have to go home after an 8-hour shift at the job I hate to force myself to deep clean the depression nest my room has become while neck deep in the same depressive episode for the past 3 months on top of chronic pain makes me wanna scream like can I just smoke weed and sleep on the couch instead pls?
#tw mental health#personal#idk how to tag this#I’m doin BAD#like- I think I’ve run into that gifted kid thing where it’s like yeah I was told I was good at this and then growing up and realizing I#never developed the skill beyond childhood but instead of gifted kid syndrome it’s high functioning depression#like I hit my 20s and I can’t high function my way through this shit anymore#I don’t know how and that makes it worse bc I’m looking back on teen me who could pretend for days and power through#now I’m just- a depressive episode hits and I just.. everything stops y’know?#im so tired and overwhelmed and I just don’t know where to start to even dig myself out of it#I’m self soothing to the point of it being harmful#if I don’t think about how bad it is and instead focus on whatever interest it feels better#my therapist has been out sick for almost 2 months now and I’m worried about her but we work so well together that I don’t wanna find#someone new and start all over again#I just..#I tried telling my family I’m struggling and my mom told me to pray about it so it’s like okay I’m just alone to deal with this like I#always do but I’m just.. I’m not doing well enough to be able to handle this on my own and no one is listening when I say that#I’m not going to do anything but I can’t pretend the s*ic*d*l thought aren’t at the front of my mind#every single problem I have would disappear for me if I wasn’t here and that’s bitter sweet because I want to see this life through#depression#mental health#struggling with depression#major depressive disorder
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theamazingannie · 4 months
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Kinda crazy how people will call out celebrities for not speaking up on political issues and then a celebrity WILL speak up on that political issue but doesn’t do it in exactly the way these people want so they’ll call THEM out too and it’s like why tf would anyone want to do anything these days if every action they take gets them called out???
#specifically referencing Annie Lennox this time but I’ve seen it so many times just on this issue alone#she called for a ceasefire at the fucking Grammys and all pro Palestine people praised her#and then she made a non aggressive post about it on Twitter that still called for ceasefire but didn’t praise hamas#and people are shaming her and calling her a coward#another time I read someone say Bella Ramsay signed the hostage release letter right after Oct 7#but has since been outspoken about pro Palestine#but that that’s not enough and they’re still bad for doing that first thing#when they’re an actor not an activist and nobody really understood what was going on back then#like this is exactly why I won’t be one of the people calling on celebrities to be posting on every issue#cuz even people more well informed are called out for being wrong about stuff#I’ve been following this issue since 2019 and I still don’t feel fully comfortable doing more than sharing stuff from better informed people#cand calling out hypocracies and bad arguements (something I studied in college)#I can’t expect someone who didn’t know anything before four months ago and doesn’t actively follow it now#to feel comfortable taking a strong side on an issue where no matter what you do you’re gonna get death threats from SOMEONE#pro Israel pro Palestine neural stance silence#every single choice makes people mad at you so it’s really safer to go with the last#this isn’t ‘register to vote’ or ‘this issue directly affects me and I’m therefore better informed so I’ll talk about it’#this is an extremely hot button sensitive issue#and I’m tired of people acting like social media activism is where we should start and end#call our your politicians not your actors and singers for gods sake
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cashew-milkk · 3 months
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no islamic talk is complete without my mom insinuating that my “choice” of being queer and trans is gonna lead me to a stray path away from jannah. so lovely. you can either have a happy trans and queer kid (doomed to jahannam) or have a miserable closeted one that represses their feelings so much to the point of contemplating suicide. every day. (also doomed to jahannam) which is what’s happening right now actually. and my friends wonder why i don’t like talking about islam… sigh…
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seilon · 9 months
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been having an overwhelming on and off feeling of dread all day over the thought of opening my email or getting a text or whatever and it’s Yet Another job rejection. like good god that’d fucking kill me
#I’m so tired of this dude#like I was pretty confident about this but. idk I’ve been turned down so many fucking times now and places have gotten my hopes up#just to let me down every single time and I just can’t help but feel like rejection is inevitable. cause im always rejected#note: I have been applying for jobs since January and have gotten exactly two (2) interviews that whole time.#kibumblabs#it’s only been a day but. idk#I am not going to be able to truly rest until I know the outcome despite how much I am dreading the possible outcome#and I don’t feel good reassuring myself and telllng myself it went well because that’d just be setting me up for a bigger letdown#man I wish they just gave me some kind of assurance on the spot#I think it isn’t helping that I’ve been super isolated recently#only one of my friends irl has been talking to me the last two weeks or so#and I know it’s realistically probably because school started but. idk no texts or anything#considering how things have gone this year overall mainly re: my ex and what he tells people I just feel like it’d be on brand at this#point for them to all want to stop associating with me and cut me off like my ex did and one of my close childhood friends did this year#I really don’t trust anyone anymore and I wish I could but when things are dead silent for a week or more it becomes kinda impossible#I wonder if any of them will talk to me voluntarily any time soon#I am not confident#lots of waiting lots of being alone lots of nothing
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jancysmixtape · 2 years
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“I want *this girl character* to have a feminist ending”
and said feminist ending is ending up single lol. 😭 Feminism doesn’t equal being alone. A girl character can be independent and have a feminist ending that also involves being in a relationship.
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jackalhadrurusluvr · 2 months
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the good news is i haven’t felt afraid or anxious like at all when i’ve gone out (still afraid of the highway but that’s different)
the bad news is since i’m awake later (took a nap after i got home) i get to lay in bed and be anxious about nothing
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nope-body · 8 months
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#I hate flare ups#I can’t do anything and even when it gets less painful over the day my brain doesn’t work any better#and I emailed two of my professors this morning- one about missing class and one about an extension on an assignment due today#I haven’t heard back from either of them and I don’t know what to do#I cannot complete the assignment before midnight tonight. I would have to comprehend a reading (already hard with brain fog) and then#make connections between that reading and a past one and recall is also difficult with brain fog and making connections is just.#so hard. like I will struggle to understand puns and jokes when I have brain fog this bad and I’m being asked to write 1-2 pages doing that?#I emailed my professor at 10 this morning and i just want to know if it’s okay if I turn it in late because her late policy is so confusing#I’m stressed and I don’t know what to do. which is also probably not helping with the flare up#I just am tired. I want to be granted some flexibility without it being a huge struggle every single time#I want the disability office to reply to my email about my ‘absence verification’ accommodation because I have been told nothing#I want to not be terrified of my grade dropping just because I’m disabled and can’t anticipate when I’ll have a flare up#I want to be able to get out of bed and walk around without pain or worrying about falling#I want to not have to fight for my position within the co-op to be recognized as real and important#I want to not have to be worried about the future of my club because I genuinely don’t know if anyone is going to run for any#board positions and I can’t keep going like this#there is a reason that we are designed to have a minimum of 6 board members. and it’s because 2 people cannot do it alone#apparently being an accessibility coordinator at my co-op is seen as a nothing position because no one knows what the actual job entails#and despite it being vitally important no one is trained very well for it at all and so in general people in this position have been useless#I do not know how to explain to people that I know what I am doing. were we actually trained in conflict mediation? no! can I do it? yes!#were we taught about disability? nope! not at all!! do I know about it? yes!! I am disabled!! I run the disability club!!#I am tired of feeling like i have made everyone uncomfortable by bringing up an accessibility issue#(this happened at the accessibility coordinator meeting by the way. I told them their location wasn’t accessible and it was dead silent.)#I just want to be able to do things and I want that to stop being so hard because I’m disabled and because of ableism#and those are two separate issues and people don’t like hearing that
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kleftiko · 11 months
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❦ GIYUU X PREGNANT!READER
cw: none, this is fluff, fem!reader
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"you have a wife?!" sanemi yelled.
"you’re lying." obanai mumbled. "that’s sad."
"tomioka, how sweet!" mitsuri called.
giyuu’s eyes narrowed at rengoku, the bright man just smiled innocently.
"i had no idea they didn’t know," he sheepishly said.
as soon as giyuu got back from his mission, the flame hashira informed him that his wife was in the butterfly mansion. something had happened, and she needed to be taken to shinobu. unfortunately, rengoku wasn’t known for being quite—blasted eardrums will do that to a person—so the other hashira in the perimeter got to hear (for the first time) that not only was giyuu NOT single, he was MARRIED.
they ended up following him through the halls, pestering him with questions until they reached the room you stayed in. your husband ignored them like usual, the only thing on his mind being your well being.
his nerves were calmed, however, immediately upon seeing you laying in bed, a smile on your face as you chatted with shinobu.
"how are you feeling?" giyuu’s tone was soft as he blocked you from the prying eyes of the other hashira in the doorway. he made his way towards your side.
"tired." you smiled at him, letting your husband hold your hand and run his thumb over your fingers. "shinobu said it was a false contraction."
"it was caused by stress," your friend’s calming voice said. "makes sense, tomioka, anyone married to you would be on edge."
your husband just grumbled at his friend as you giggled. he then helped you sit up in bed, the blankets falling off to reveal your pregnant stomach to the small audience watching.
"you had sex?!" sanemi screamed.
oblivious to the small mass of people staring at you, sanemi’s outburst startled you, causing you to grab onto your husband’s haori. he instinctively pulled you close, his soft look switching to a death glare towards the doorway.
"hush!" giyuu seethed at him, finally giving attention to the posse. "she’s nine months pregnant; shut up."
although listening and lowering his voice, sanemi didn’t let his question go unanswered. "you’re not a virgin?"
"go away," giyuu deadpanned. "all of you, go away. now."
"it’s okay, darling," you tried to soothe him. "maybe you should introduce me to your friends."
you felt him tense up at that. he didn’t let go of your hand, and he only moved half a step away from you (half of them still couldn’t see you), and he spoke with a monotone voice. "this is my wife, y/n. she’s pregnant with our first child."
the was no verbal reaction from the onlookers, just looks of disbelief from the four of them. it felt like you were an animal in the zoo with the way they were all staring dumbfounded at you.
it took a couple minutes for shinobu and rengoku to get the others out, leaving you and giyuu alone in the room. as soon as the door closed, your husband grabbed your face and peppered kisses all over it, causing you to giggle. he took a seat on the edge of the bed to be closer to you.
"i’m so sorry," he said, kissing your lips. "i’m sorry i wasn’t here."
"it’s okay, baby." you let your head rest on his shoulder. "i’m just glad i didn’t give birth."
"i would never forgive myself if i was gone for that." giyuu’s hand ran up and down your back comfortingly.
you sigh in relief, turning your head to place a kiss on his neck.
"well now that you’re here, let’s get this baby out of me."
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saetoru · 8 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ SORCERY SCHEMES — GETO SUGURU.
contents. non sorcery au!, husband! suguru, gn! reader, nanako and mimiko are still your kids, silly lil shenanigans of cult leader! suguru being in your dreams
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suguru has been the source of your anger for lots of things over the years. some fair, others not so much.
that one important date he accidentally missed because he got caught up at work. that time you vented and he tried to tell you to toughen up instead of picking your side. that time he accidentally shrunk your favorite sweater in the laundry. that time he fell asleep while you were talking late at night (he had insisted he was tired, in his defense—you were just too stubborn to let him sleep.)
marriage has its ups and downs, but suguru likes to think you’re a strong couple—but this? this is the most outrageously ridiculous reason to be mad at him—he’s simply at a loss.
“so let me get this straight,” he starts slowly, as if trying to comprehend something far too complex for his simple mind, “you’re mad at me because i had some superpowers in your dream—”
“it was sorcery,” you hiss, “were you even listening?”
“right. sorry. i was…a sorcerer,” he apologizes. he looks at you like you’re insane—your eye twitches just a little. “and then suddenly i went crazy in the head and killed a village and adopted nanako and mimiko and…left. to basically cleanse an entire demographic. is that right?”
“you had a cult too.”
“and the cult,” he nods slowly, “can’t forget the cult.”
“yeah,” you glower—if looks could kill, suguru thinks he might have never been born at all. this is a new one, he has to admit. “and it was really fucking rude. you left. and you took the kids before i could even meet them.”
“okay,” he says tiredly, rubbing his forehead, “baby, i don’t know if you realize this, but i don’t…i can’t perform sorcery. and i don’t have a cult i can lead either. i’m just a literature teacher—”
“i know what you are,” you snap, shoving away the hand he tries to reach at you with, “you’re a selfish psychopath who committed heinous crimes and left me single and alone as you led a group of people to follow your crazy ideas. don’t even think about touching me—”
“so do you want me to apologize?” he sighs, “because i’m sorry—”
“what if i left you? huh? and just started killing everyone who has blue eyes? what then? i’ll take the kids this time and leave you alone, see how you like it.”
“well, at least that gets rid of satoru,” he mutters quietly. and then he grins—chuckles a soft little laugh that makes the edges of your lips curl just a bit. “you’re crazy,” he snorts, shaking his head. and then— “but i love you. c’mere.”
you don’t fight the hand the reaches towards you this time, letting his arm curl around your waist and pull you into his side. that’s a good sign, he thinks, so he tests the waters and plants a kiss to your head. you melt just a little.
“i’m still mad at you,” you mumble.
“yeah, i figured,” he grins, “anything i can do to erase my sins as a mass murderer?”
“you can make breakfast,” you hum, leaning closer as you rub circles into his chest, “and wash the dishes.”
“easy enough,” he nods, pulling a scowl from you.
“you’re not off the hook yet,” you click your teeth.
“of course,” he nods in agreement, “i still have to atone for my radical actions. i’ll start by resurrecting all the people i killed. that should do it, right?”
“suguru, be serious,” you huff, “i was very sad, okay?”
“did you miss me?” he wriggles his brows—you look at him incredulously before slapping his chest. he chuckles a little too long for your liking.
“what a stupid question,” you pinch your nose, “so if i became delusional and ran off to erase a population, you wouldn’t be upset with me?”
“actually, i’d follow you because i love you,” he shrugs, pinching your nose lightly, “i’d be your cult’s second-in-command. obviously you just didn’t love me enough in your dream to do the same for me.”
“you didn’t invite me,” you pout through a glare, “what was i supposed to do? show up unwelcome?”
“well, nothing was stopping you. was i at least a strong sorcerer?” he asks in wonder.
you think for a moment before nodding. “yeah,” you say thoughtfully, “one of the strongest.”
“nice,” he grins—he seems a bit too pleased for something that happened in your dreams.
you decide to deal the harsh blow. “but not nearly as strong as satoru. you know he was the literally the strongest?”
“okay,” he scowls, “if you do kill blue-eyed people, start with him.”
you giggle, leaning up to kiss his jaw as he lets a soft grin pull over his features. he laughs with you—and suddenly, you’re both chuckling together uncontrollably.
it’s a bit of a silly circumstance, but he kisses your forehead and means it when he says, “sorry i left you to kill people and led a cult and committed a bunch of crimes while i wiped out a whole group of people. i didn’t mean it.”
“you took the kids too,” you remind him.
“i don’t know what i was thinking,” he shakes his head, “those two are a handful. how was i managing being a single father with all that on my plate?”
“that’s why you shouldn’t have left me,” you point out.
“you’re right,” he agrees, “i’ll invite you if i ever snap and lose my sanity.”
“good. you’re forgiven. now, i want chocolate chip pancakes—and make coffee while you’re at it.”
“yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes. he kisses you though, a soft little peck over your lips as you hum into the kiss and cup his cheek, “you got it. whatever you want.”
“i want you,” you murmur, “unhinged sorcerer and all.”
he laughs at the craziness of it all—but he loves it anyway, loves you despite it all.
“and i want you too,” he grins, hopelessly in love, “if you’ll do me the honors and join my crazy sorcery schemes.”
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hi i’m tee and i had a dream that my rude ass sister stole my car and totaled it and now im very mad at her and i am not speaking to her until she apologizes. she refuses so im now double mad
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ponderingmoonlight · 1 month
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Gojo falls ill and reader does finishes his missions and her own missions as well do Gojo doesn't have a pile of work waiting for him once he gets better. Gojo gets better. And finds out. Hehehehe Lobe u babes
omg I love this, let's do it hehe
Reader finishing Gojo's missions when he falls sick and he finds out
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Pairing: Gojo x wife!reader
Word Count: 2,3k
Synopsis: When your husband falls sick, you don't think twice about completing all of his tasks in order for him to not be stressed - even if it means multiple sleepless nights for youself. Little did you know that your husband will find out about it and thank you in his own way...
Warnings: pure fluff over fluff so enjoy, Gojo basically being THE husband for y'all, not proofread because it's already darn late here and I'm way too tired
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„Oh come on, don’t tell me the honoured one caught a cold”, you playfully tease your beloved husband.
He’s definitely ill, there’s no doubt in that. The way his forehead is covered in sweat, his unusual pale face paired with his heavy breathing. Let alone the sight of his red and runny nose.
You never thought this is possible. After all, Satoru is one of the few people who are able to use revered technique. Isn’t he able to heal himself, to prevent his body from falling sick?
“Looks like I overdid it those last weeks. My body is catching up on my apparently”, he replies weakly along with a nasty sounding cough.
You know all too well these last weeks were like a trip to hell and back for him. This is actually the first time you saw your husband after one whole week of him running from mission to mission and coming home into bad past after midnight. Being two special grade sorcerers, it is your responsibility to prevent the worst things from happening. Especially during summer, the number of curses triples. And that paired with the stinging fact that jujutsu sorcerers die like flies each and every day…
It’s no wonder his body took a toll on him.
“You’ll stay here for the rest of the week, babe”, you instruct him gently while pulling a blanket up his chest.
“Nah, no chance. I’ll have a pile of work when I get back and-AH.”
It’s frightening, the way he almost chokes while coughing so roughly that it vibrates through your whole body. This doesn’t sound good at all. To be exact, you’ve never seen your husband like this despite the fact that you’ve been together for multiple years by now. If he’s feeling this miserable, it’s definitely time for a break.
“Don’t worry about that. I hold the position while you’re gone.”
Little did he know you meant that.
-a week later-
“It’s far past midnight. Why are you still up, (y/n)?”
His hoarse voice rips you out of your microsleep immediately, lids so heavy they feel like closing by themselves if you don’t pay close attention.
“Oh, just work.”
No, it’s not just work. Apart from the daily drama you have to endure, you made it your mission to complete each and every task your husband would face as soon as he comes back. You know all too well he’ll throw himself fully into work again, not thinking about his own health a single second. And to prevent that, you decided to finish his missions as well, to teach his students, to do anything in your power to prevent Satoru from a pile of work.
Including swollen eyelids, constant grumpy mood, no effort to eat and your shoulders hanging down onto the ground.
You hate to admit it, but you are exhausted. You never realized how much work your husband does during the day. Must be easier for him, though. Teleportation sure sounds nice at the moment…
“I’m worried about you, babe. Are the elders bombarding you with work again? Maybe I need to have a serious talk again-“
“No, don’t think too much about it. I’m just hanging on a bit, that’s it”, you lie.
Oh, Satoru knows it is. After all, you’re talking about yourself. You, so disciplined that you’d never leave work unattended. No, it’s absolutely impossible that you’re “hanging on a bit”. But what else is it? The dark circles underneath your eyes look like valleys in the soft light of a lamp, tired eyes failing to focus on the paperwork in front of you. Usually, this is what you’re doing straight in the morning when he’s still asleep. What keeps you so busy these last days? He has to find out, he-
He almost chokes on himself again, earning a concerned side eye from you. It’s been a week and he’s still sick to the brim. Worry lines decorate your face, palm gently resting against his scorching hot forehead.
“Off to bed with you.”
“Don’t stay up too long, okay? All you seem to do is work these last days”, your husband replies worried himself.
You sigh to yourself. That’s because you do. But leaving your husband to a pile of work after he returns to Jujutsu High only to get sick again? You grab the pen in your hand tighter, force your eyes to fully open. Only a few more days and you’ll be done. After all, you’re doing this for him, right?
Satoru is definitely worth the sleepless nights.
-a few days after-
“Turns out I’m fully back at normal again, babe!”, your husband announces proudly.
You blink against the harsh light of the merciless sun, eyes dry like sand. Only a few hours ago, you returned from a village Satoru was supposed to inspect. Well, minutes turned into hours when a special grade curse appeared out of no where and made your life living hell. The sun already began to rise when you carried yourself back into bed.
But still, you can’t help but smile at him. These last days were rough for him. Him, the strongest, passed out because of a cold. He wasn’t himself all this time, weak body bound into bed with his limbs aching.
“So glad to here that”, you mumble while pressing a gentle kiss onto his lips.
“Sleep in for a while, you look exhausted (y/n). I know you just came back a few hours ago and don’t you dare to lie at me.”
Your eyes widen in an instant, cheeks blushing ever so slightly. You were so careful about leaving and returning, his even and long breaths not giving a single hint that he might be awake.
“I’m heading to Jujutsu High, bet work piled up pretty bad. Wish me good luck and have a good rest princess, I’ll kick their asses if they try to call you!”
With one last loving glance at you, he’s gone. And you can’t help but pass out immediately.
“Guess who’s back to save the day!”, Satoru announces proudly into the room filled with his students and Yaga Masamichi who looks at him with the same disinterest as usual.
“You? Didn’t even know you even exist anymore”, Nobara mumbles while filing down her nails.
“How are you? (y/n) told us you were sick”, Yuji interjects.
“I’m completely back to normal!”
“What a shame”, Megumi mumbles under his breath.
“Sooo, what side of earth do I have to save today? I’m sure a lot of work piled up while I was gone. After all, I’m the strongest.”
Satoru stretches himself playfully, waiting for the director to tell him about all different kinds of missions, curses and teachings he has to deal with these next few days. But instead, he just shrugs his shoulders.
“What? Got nothing to say? Okay, let me guess, what about that special grade curse in the village-“
“Done”, Yaga Masamichi replies dryly.
“The combat training with the first year-“
“Done.”
“Any curses that appeared in Tokyo?”
“Done.”
“Taking care of-“
“Done.”
This can’t be true, the man in front of him has to joke. Apart from you, Satoru is the only special grade sorcerer here at Jujutsu High. No one would ever be able to fulfil some of those missions, let alone teach his students just like that. Not even the director himself is capable of dealing with that special grade curse he was talking about just before Satoru got sick. But who…?
“Didn’t your wife tell you she already managed all those things?”
Oh, he was so stupid that it hurts. All these nights he caught you almost falling asleep on your desk, the multiple times you sneaked out of bed far past midnight, the dark circles under your eyes. All this time, you weren’t only busy with your own missions. No, you actually fulfilled all of his work for him as well.
“Just the amount of work I have to do when I come back. Urgh, being sick sucks.”
“Don’t worry, love. I’m sure you’ll be fine.
Yeah, he sure as hell is. But only because you decided to make your own life living hell for two weeks straight.
“Please don’t tell me (y/n) did all of my stuff while I was gone.”
“I’ll never understand how a kind-hearted woman like her ended up with you. She didn’t even stop when I told her to and somehow managed to get information about the missions I prepared for your sick ass”, the director replies dryly.
“Call her in right now.”
Words aren’t enough to thank you for this. No, you deserve way more than that, way more than his mouth could ever give you.
“And let her leave again in about an hour.”
-an hour later-
“Again, sorry for calling you in, (y/n). Now get back home, you’re free tomorrow.”
“Thank you”, is all you’re able to reply, wobbly feet carrying you back into your car and onto the road.
You sigh to yourself. Well, you definitely didn’t expect the director to call you this early when you just returned from an exhausting mission. But who are you to say no to him? After all, it’s your job to do this, it’s your job to protect the innocent.
But…Is it also your job to answer strange questions from your students in the morning?
“Come on, use your brain! You know what the director said!”, Nobara hisses through gritted teeth, the trio sticking their heads together after you were forced to drop your haircare routine to Nobara.
“Ehm...so…well…”
“If you don’t have any further questions, I’ll go-“
“Yes! I have a question!”, Yuji screams so loudly that his voice echoes through your tired brain.
“What is it, Yuji?”, you mutter with your eyes closed.
“How exactly are babies made, (y/n)-san?”
“You’re an idiot…”, Megumi grumbles.
“Really? This is all you have left in your pea-sized brain?”
“What? You just told me to ask her something and that’s what I came up with!”, Yuji defends himself.
“Yeah, but that ‘something’ definitely didn’t include THAT!”
It’s almost as if they were forced to ask you dumb questions. You’ll definitely have a talk with your husband about their strange behaviour when you caught up on sleep. But before that…
You open the door with a swift motion.
Your heart skips a beat, eyes widen.
The usual so modern and clean living-room is now covered in rose pedals and filled with the fresh scent of sakura leaves, your couch unfolded and covered in the most fluffy blankets, pillows and stuffed animals you’re ever seen. And there he sits.
He, your beloved husband, holding up your bathrobe oh so inviting.
“What’s going on here?”, you breathe out.
Suddenly, all the exhaustion you felt earlier disappeared into thin air. Did he really do all of this for you? The candles flickering, the blankets, the strawberries covered in chocolate waiting on the table, him wearing that black t-shirt you love so much.
“Guess what, I found out what you did. Did you really think you’ll get away with stealing my work in silence?”, he teases, love dripping from each and every word he says.
“It was nothing”, you try to brush him off.
But instead, he gets up and grabs your hand in order to guide you into the dim bathroom that is only lightened by a few candles. Again, the lovely smell of sakura leaves radiates from the bathtub filled with bubbles and hot steam. Just the thought of letting yourself sink into that warm water, to finally release the tension in your sore muscles-
Before you’re even able to comprehend what’s happening, Satoru took off your clothes and lifts you off the ground with ease. Your body doesn’t dare to fight back, too weak from all the missions you completed these last days. Just the tip of your toe, relaxing in the water for a few minutes before returning to Jujutsu High…
“Nothing, huh? So you mean doing the stuff I need a month for in two weeks besides your own missions is nothing? Words can’t express how thankful I am to have such a sweet, caring and steaming hot wife”, he whispers against your ear, his fingers starting to massage your back oh so skilled.
You allow yourself to sink into his touch, to rest your eyes for a few minutes. Well, there is no denying in the fact that this was a little too much for you. All the fighting, the paper work, the heart and soul you poured in each and every work.
And then there’s him. Satoru, your beloved husband, who massages your back with his skilled fingers. How lucky you are to call him your husband, that he decided to spend the rest of his life with you. Even though he scolded you ever so slightly for managing his pile of work, you know he’d do the same for you in a heartbeat. What a treasure, how glad you are to know him, how wonderful he is…
“(y/n)?”, Satoru purrs against your ear.
You don’t response, chest rising and falling slow and steady. He can’t help but smile to himself, admiring he beauty of your finally resting face. Carefully, he lifts you out of the bathtub and covers your body in the fluffy bathrobe you love so much. You definitely deserve some rest for all the work you did these last days.
He can’t help but gently caress your cheek, making sure you’re completely tucked you underneath your favourite blanket.
“What a lucky man I am”, he mutters to himself while outlining your parted lips.
“To call someone so wonderful my wife…”
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(this took me forever so if I tagged u be so kind and leave a like/comment/reblog lol)
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yellowharrington · 3 months
Text
wildflower and barley -- joel miller x reader
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pairing + fandom: joel miller x reader, the last of us (hbo)
word count: 5k+ oops
warnings/notes: smut smut smut!!! minors DNI, 18+!!! no outbreak!au. age gap (it's implied reader is in her 20s while joel is 45) and mentions of joel being kinda perverted and liking it lol. drinking (both reader and joel, not excessive), use of a dating app like tinder but not specified, unprotected PIV w creampie and oral (m+f receiving), do not fuck your tinder hookups without protection i'm just horny and gross. excessive use of darlin' as a nickname. implied that reader likes men. she/her pronouns used, afab!reader (with mentions of body parts), no use of y/n. if i missed anything lmk!
a/n: heavily inspired by this post by @yesttoheaven about joel's tinder profile!! it has been rotting my brain since i saw it which literally inspired me to write my first fic in the tlou fandom ever so please be gentle with me. i imagined show!joel because i've never played the game so do with that what you will. please reblog and leave comments if u enjoy it <3333
divider by @cafekitsune
summary: after deciding to change your age range on a dating app in hope of a change of scenery, you stumble across joel miller.
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No one likes using dating apps.
Swiping left, left, left mindlessly at troves of men holding fish, showing off their trucks, or with deer heads mounted to the walls behind their selfies holding guns.
This was Texas, after all.
Having just moved here, it was a little shocking, to say the least. But you were getting used to the “eligible” bachelors that were your age generally looking and acting the same. When you did end up finding someone of interest, you were usually turned off pretty quickly by whatever shitty pick-up line they had chosen. Or, your personal favourite, “wanna fuck?”
No thanks.
It was an idyllic summer evening, the hot stuffy air of Austin flowing in through your windows. You laid in bed, propped up on the pillows against your headboard and sorting through the faces that adorned your screen. No one particularly interesting, as usual, and every profile was starting to melt together to look the same.
You sighed, looking into your settings, adjusting and increasing different metrics to hopefully change the pool just enough for there to be someone new or interesting. 
Age range: 25-30
Your eyebrow cocked as you looked onto the screen, pulling the slider more to the right experimentally. No one was here to see you, and even though it was slightly embarassing to be interested in older men, you’d be lying if you said it didn’t pique your interest to imagine it. Even just to try, and see, if they ever really did grow up. You imagined it was wishful thinking, but increased the range anyways.
Age range: 35-45
Feeling the need to throw your phone across the room after doing that, you placed it face down under your pillow and slid out of bed. No use in swiping through them now, and you were getting tired of looking. A pint of Ben and Jerry’s and a new episode of your favourite show was waiting for you downstairs.
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾
Joel Miller does not use dating apps.
He barely knows how to send a text on his phone, let alone navigate the world of online women. Not to say he didn’t explore the options, so to speak, but they usually were not ones that were single, his age, and in his area. Unless the ads on those sites were real, that is.
“It’s starting to get sad,” Sarah had remarked at breakfast, when they got on the topic, and Joel feigned hurt. Hand over his heart, he dropped his fork onto the plate. “It’s not sad, Jesus. I’m just busy, is all.”
“Busy not gettin’ busy,” Sarah remarked, and Joel’s eyes widened. “Hey now! None of that.”
A blush spread up his cheeks and ears as they continued to eat breakfast in slightly awkward silence, before Joel took his plate to the sink. “Okay, off to school, you. And no more conversations about my dating life. Ever.”
Sarah laughed as she finished off the last of the juice in her glass. “I’m just saying, dad. You can if you want to. Might be nice for you.”
Joel planted a soft kiss to her head before she bounded out the door, rolling his eyes and calling out a ‘love you’ before she closed the door swiftly behind her. Joel stared at his cell phone on the table. Maybe it would be nice.
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾
The following evening, you were a little too excited to see the dating app specimens you had acquired. Not sure what to expect, really, and you went in with no expectations. It’s not like they’d magically all be tall, dark, and handsome, but some variety never killed anybody.
Paul, 41
Daddy, but not yours. No libs allowed. 6’ because that matters.
You sighed deeply. Some things never change. 
After swiping through much of what you were used to, a profile managed to catch your eye among the sea of disappointment.
Joel, 45
Just a Southern gentleman trying this out for the first time. Contractor of over 10 years. I love my daughter, BBQ, strong coffee, and sleeping in. 
Now that was the most interesting thing you’d seen in a while.
He didn’t look a day over 40. His eyes creased at the corners when he smiled wide in his photos. He looked tan, a product of the Texas heat and his job, you thought. His features were accompanied by salt-and-pepper facial hair and messy curls that looked soft and pliable. His photos showed off his physique incredibly, tight wash-worn t-shirts pulling over his arms and shoulders, looking big, broad. He was no doubt the most handsome man you’d seen on an app, maybe ever.
When you swiped right before you could think too hard, you were surprised to see the green “Match!” Flash across your screen.
Your fingers ghosted over the keyboard on your phone, thinking of a witty thing to say, probably for too long.
Your phone buzzed as you saw a notification pop up.
Joel has sent you a message.
Hey, darlin’. How are ya?
You felt your face warm at the sweet message, when was the last time someone had called you darlin’? Ever?
Hey cowboy. I’m great, how are you?
He was certainly an eager responder, taking only a few seconds to reply. You found yourself smiling down at your phone screen.
Cowboy… I like that. I’m better now that I’m talking to you.
Oh, Joel, who told you to say that? 😂
No good?
Not bad. 6/10. 
Only 6/10? I’ll work on it. I like to think I’m better in person. 
I would love to find out. 
You found yourself emboldened by how easy the conversation was flowing. Joel was certainly easy to talk to, easier than the other matches you had going for you, and infinitely more handsome.
Oh, would you? Alright. I’d love to take you to dinner sometime. If you don’t mind being seen with an old man such as myself in public. Or meeting a stranger from the internet.
He’s a very handsome stranger. I would love to go to dinner with you. Know any good spots? I’m new around here.
There’s a great barbecue spot in downtown Austin. If you’d prefer something fancier, let me know.
I love bbq. Just tell me where and when, cowboy.
Tomorrow, 7pm ok?
You sent him your phone number in the message. Fuck it.
Sounds great. Text me the address, I’ll be there. :)
Joel’s reply didn’t come. Instead, a text appeared at the top of your screen with an unknown number. 
It’s Joel. This the right number?
Yup. You found me.
Great. Talk tomorrow sweetheart. Looking forward to it. :)
He texted you the address of the restaurant, right before you opened the contact card, saving his name as “cowboy ♡”.
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾
Cowboy. Cowboy. Cowboy. It was playing over in his head like a broken fuckin’ record. 
Joel was positively freaking out about this date.
Sarah had managed to secure a sleepover at her friend’s place, so the house would be empty for the night. He had been busying himself with cleaning the entirety of the house, even taking the time to mow the grass before work and vacuum the family room. He can’t remember the last time he vacuumed anywhere.
Would she even make it back here? How does this work? Will she want to sleep over or hang out on the couch or should he be making a dessert for after?
His mind was brought out of it’s craze by Sarah jumping down the stairs. She plopped her bag down on the freshly wiped countertop.
“Careful,” he warned, putting a hand up. “I just cleaned that off.”
“I can tell. It smells like the cleaning aisle threw up in here.”
He smirked before patting her head with his hand, as she aggressively smoothed out her hair. “Dad! Don’t!”
“When do you wanna go to Ellie’s?” He asked, more gaging how long he has left to get ready than actually asking.
“Probably soon. Why? Tryna get rid of me?” she poked her dad in the side, but when she flinched away instead, a large smile spread across her face. He was tense.
“What’s your deal?” Joel hated the way she knew him so well sometimes.
“Nothing.“
“Are you going on a date?”
Silence fell over the kitchen between the two of them, as Joel’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “How did you know?”
“Oh my god, you actually took my advice,” Sarah laughed, watching her dad’s face burn red with embarrassment. “Just don’t do anything weird on communal surfaces, please.”
Joel shook his head at her suggestion, already becoming annoyed with the whole prospect. He was so nervous, about what to wear, how to act, what the expectation was… let alone, what would happen if they made it back to his place at all. 
Although, when he was able to shake his nerves for a second, he was just really fucking excited.
“Wear those dark jeans, and that green shirt you wore to Tommy’s last week. Looks good on you.” Sarah smiled as she put her arms around Joel’s middle, while his worries melted away with her touch. “She’ll love you, I promise.”
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾
It had been such a long time since you’d been on a proper date, you were starting to lose your mind at the simple process of deciding what to wear.
Clothes were strewn across every surface of your apartment, shoes matching with jeans that matched with cardigans, tops that matched with belts and jackets.
It’s 87 degrees at 5 o’clock, idiot. You’re not wearing a jacket. Relax.
Exhausted of picking out outfits and making decisions, you collapsed on your couch and took a look at your options. You landed on an easy sundress, putting the rest of your clothes back in their respective drawers, and pulling out all of the products you were expecting to use to get ready.
You scrolled through your phone aimlessly as a notification bubble popped up on the screen.
We still on for tonight darlin’? Or did you change your mind?
No worries if you did. I respect that.
You let out a cackle at the message, thinking about how he must look right now. Was he nervous? Scared? Was he just looking for a controversially young fuck?
You weren’t… completely against that.
Didn’t change my mind, wouldn’t in a million years :)
Meet you there. Can’t wait to see you.
His eagerness to meet up would’ve been a red flag if it were any other run of the mill guy, but something about Joel felt special. There didn’t seem to be any funny business with him; too sincere to try anything other than just a good old fashioned date.
You too, cowboy.
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾
When Joel showed up at the restaurant, he clenched a small bouquet of pink peonies in his right hand and checked his watch obsessively. The minutes ticked away, as he kept a high alert for anyone who could be his potential date. He knew what you looked like, of course, but this being his first time doing anything of this sort is making him hyperaware of anything going awry.
When he does lay eyes on you, his whole gaze softens. A pink sundress, hair pristinely styled and a bounce in your step that reminded him of summer. You looked like an angel, the sunset behind you painting the sky tangerine, which reflected off of the shine against your supple skin. So young, beautiful, it was taking his breath away.
“Joel?”
Your voice matched your sweet demeanour, and he was taken out of his waking daydream.
“Hi,” is all he can say, letting his breath out as he relaxed. “Yes, hi, sorry. I’m Joel.”
“Hi,” you laugh back, eyes darting to the flowers in his hand. They matched your dress.
“These are for you,” he gets the hint, extending his arm out, and you can see the veins bulging in his forearm. He looked so much stronger in person, it was making your knees go weak.
“Thank you, wow,” you held them up to your nose to smell the sweet aroma. “I love peonies.”
“Me too,” he smiled, showing off a string of pearly white teeth, that contrasted with the pink of his lips and the even tan of his skin.
“Shall we?” He extended his arm to you for you to grab onto, and you got to feel the warmth of his skin for yourself. Your hand wrapped around his forearm as he opened the door of the restaurant for you, leading you inside and catching a glimpse of the backs of your thighs as you walked in front of him.
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾
When you were finally sitting, the conversation flowed easily. He was truly a Southern gentleman, like he had said. It wasn’t normal for you to open up so quickly, but Joel was so easy going and smart, he asked the right questions and knew when to listen. He knew how to listen, a warm gaze and a nod along, asking follow up questions to your answers and easily getting to know you.
You asked about his daughter, his family, his work. He was happy to tell you. 
“So, what’s a man like you doing being single in this city?” You take a sip of the wine in the glass in front of you, burgundy staining your bottom lip. 
He takes a bite of the food in front of him, a napkin pressing to his lips quickly after. “Been busy,” he started to say, honey brown eyes meeting yours for a second. His gaze sent an electrifying pulse down your spine.
“And, well, when Sarah’s mom left there was a ton to do,” he says it nonchalantly, as if that should be something normal to happen. “House, work, school, she keeps my hands full. Hasn’t been a lot of time.” His syrupy drawl is pulling you in, you’re enticed by the way he speaks to you. So easy, warm, soft. You wonder what his hands feel like on your body, lips pressed to your neck, torso pressed against yours.
“Sorry, that’s a lot of information for a first date,” he laughs to cover the awkwardness, and quietly curses himself for going into so much detail about his precarious family situation and basically admitting to you that he hasn’t fucked anything other than his hand in the last 5 or so years.
“No, it’s okay,” you slide your hand across the table, palm up, urging him to slot his hand into it. He takes it, easily, enveloping yours. His fingers find the pulse point on your wrist. You let your eyes drift up to his, drinking in the way his chest fills out the shirt he chose.
“What’s your story?” He asks earnestly, giving your hand a squeeze. “Can’t imagine there isn’t a long line of people outside waiting to take my place, darlin’.”
You blush furiously at the nickname, and let your eyes meet his once again. “You have no idea the… mess that is out there,” the wine is calling your name to take another sip at the mere thought, but you refrain. “Certainly not too many I am interested in.”
“So, is that why you’re on a date with an old man on a beautiful summer night in Austin?”
You could tell Joel, in a twisted way, liked that you were younger than him. It made him feel younger by admission, that you’d want to spend time with him. 
“You’re not that much older,” you laugh, not even believing it yourself as the words left your lips. “And I like to try new things. Don’t you like trying new things, sometimes?”
It was his turn to let his face go red at your insinuation. If only you knew how ‘new’ this really was for him, how much he was pushed out of his comfort zone right now.
You didn’t notice. 
A little more polite small talk and exchanging of stories was all you could take before the tension was becoming too much. After another glass of wine and a shared plate of sky-high chocolate cake for dessert, you were enjoying his company and could tell he was enjoying yours all the same. When you met his gaze again, hands still intertwined, you could tell there was a question on the tip of his tongue.
“Would you want to…“ - a nervous pause, with a halo of lust - “come back to mine for a nightcap? I’ve got an empty house this evening.”
You couldn’t help but smirk, knowing in your heart that Joel must’ve made arrangements for his family not to be home in anticipation. He had to have planned for you, known in his heart you’d say yes.
“I’d love that.”
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾
Joel’s home is unmistakably him. It smells like a pine candle that sits near the front door and a faint aroma of laundry detergent. There’s photos everywhere, him and his daughter, his brother’s family. Big windows were letting in the twinkling lights of the city outside, the inky sky making them look brighter against its canvas.
“You have a beautiful home,” you say, although it seems a little formal for the situation. What else do you say to a grown-up in their house?
“Thank you,” he takes a bottle of whiskey from the bar cart and pours two rock glasses, handing you one. He flicks on a lamp, ambient light filling the room and painting his skin amber orange, as he joins your side by his kitchen table.
“I did a lot of the construction myself, the decorations are my daughter.” He points lazily to the trinkets on the shelves and photos on the wall. “I don’t really have a good eye for that type of stuff.” 
You take a sip from the drink and it coats your throat, burning down as you suppress a cough at the taste. You nod along as he explains the design choices he made in the home, and you play along, knowing it’s likely out of anxiety.
“What about upstairs?”
Your eyes are innocent as they meet his, although you understand the implication you’re making whole-heartedly. He puts his glass down on the kitchen table and you follow his lead, his strong hand around your wrist as he leads you up the stairs wordlessly.
“It’s not anything,” - he clears his throat - “special,” he shows you around the second floor, finishing at the door of his bedroom that has been left slightly ajar. 
You step in quietly, leading him inside as you take in the bedroom. Neatly folded clothes, a made bed that looks well loved. Blue sheets and fluffy pillows, big bay windows that let the moonlight in.
“I think it’s nice,” you say simply, letting yourself turn around to meet his broad frame. He looks down at you slightly, eyes meeting yours as your hand drops from his grasp and snakes around his neck. His hands come up the sides of your dress, pulling it up slightly, but landing on your waist.
“Is this okay?” He asks tentatively in the dark of the room, his lips so close to yours already you can practically taste the whiskey on his lips for yourself. You answer him by pressing your tentative lips to his, slotting them together easily.
Joel’s grip on your waist tightens momentarily as he takes you in, pulling you as close as he possibly can. He can smell the perfume on your neck and the wine on your lips from earlier, and it’s making his need for you increase tenfold. 
You pull him into you as you stumble back to let your knees hit his mattress, sitting down and letting your hands come to his belt buckle. Your hands came to undo it as he pulled his t-shirt off to throw onto the floor beside him, bending down to help you pull the dress over your shoulders to meet his t-shirt.
You made quick work of his jeans, pushing them to the ground and looking up at him with a keen glance. You could see the breath making his belly rise and fall, anticipating your touch on him any second.
When your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, his breath hitched and his head rolled back. He was already half-hard only from kissing you, so a few pumps made him easily ready for your mouth.
“You’re so big,” is all you can think to say, head spinning from the sheer size of him right in front of your face. Your mouth watered at the way his hand palmed through your hair, pulling you in closer to him for some relief.
It was intoxicating to him, the way your mouth fit around his cock. Such a beautiful sight to see, your head licking and sucking at his tip, gathering spit there to lubricate him. His knees were going weak as he watched intently, no thought able to cross his mind, other than maybe how long it had been since he’d had anyone to do this with. He was going to have to pace himself if it was all like this.
Your mouth constrained around the length of him, taking him deeper and deeper with every bob of your head. Filthy sounds were filling the room now, of your eager mouth pulling him in as best you could. His hand stayed steady at the back of your head, not pushing, just softly pressed there for support. His other hand found your shoulder, pushing down your bra strap.
“God, darlin’,” was all he could choke out, using his hand to pull you off of him. Your hand lazily stroked him as you looked up at him, spit collecting at the corners of your mouth. “I’m not gonna last long if you keep doin’ that,” his laugh eased some of the tension in the room, as you took your other hand and wiped the spit away.
He leaned down, pressing a fervent kiss to your lips before using his own hands to unclasp your bra and let your breasts free. His lips traveled to the side of your neck, before he was kneeled down between your legs, sucking your nipple into his mouth. He lapped at you, all consuming, as his hand came up to grasp the other breast that wasn’t being serviced. He moaned at the noises you were making, lewd whines into the night air that only encouraged him. 
His lips made their way down your body to your clothed centre, your back against his soft sheets. You looked down at him intently, watching as he pulled your panties down your legs and immediately delved into your pussy with broad strokes of his tongue.
Your body jerked upwards at the contact, hand fisting the sheet beside you as he lapped at you, like a man starved. His expert tongue found your clit easily, sucking and licking at you for what felt like hours. You thought about his heavy cock between his legs, begging to be touched, hard as ever as he licked at you desperately.
“Joel,” you whined out, feeling your hand reach down to grab at his curls and push him deeper into you. That only made him moan, one hand lazily fisting his cock as the other came up to dip a finger into you, allowing you to see stars when you screwed your eyes shut.
His fingers were so large, pressed into your core as you fucked yourself on them and his tongue in tandem. He was groaning and grunting, and you hoped his neighbours couldn’t see into the window at the desperate filth that was going on in his bedroom.
“Fuck, Joel, please,” you begged, but he had no mercy, and your orgasm was creeping up on you. He was ready to watch you come undone, pushing a second finger into you and furiously sucking on your clit. His other hand left his own pleasure and wrapped around your breast, pressing and playing with the hard nub there, pinching to provide a little bit of sting to it. It was sending you into another dimension.
“Come for me, sweetheart,” and his voice is gravely and debauched, enough to send you into your first orgasm, chanting his name and pulling on his hair. He was happily licking at you, fingers still pressing in and out as to not mess up the rhythm, as you rode out your orgasm against his face. 
When you started to come down, he finally detached himself from you before standing up between your legs and pressing his broad palms to your thighs. He stayed there for a moment, cock still hard and heavy between his legs as you gazed up at him, out of breath from his work.
“You’re really good at that,” was all you could think to say, head clouded with arousal. You moved up on the bed a little, opening your legs and pressing your knees apart to show your pussy to him again.
“Please fuck me, Joel,” you breathe out, letting your hand find your own clit to rub it teasingly for him. It was still so sensitive, but the way he was looking down at you, eyes dark and stormy with need, you could almost come again just from that.
He put a knee down on the bed and crawled on top of you, his lips finding yours once again as your hands found his face. You held him there, savouring the kiss as his tongue crashed against yours, all warmth and spit and the taste of you. His hand found your breast and continued to play with your nipples, softly, coaxing more moans into his mouth from yours.
He leaned back and slipped his cock inside of you, filling you up immediately and making you gasp. He groaned into the side of your neck, tonguing the side of your ear and kissing you feverishly as he pumped in and out of you.
Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him impossibly close, your moans filling the room as he rocked in and out of you. He kissed your jaw and chest, before reaching down between your bodies and pressing his thick finger to your clit again, using the wetness there to draw circles around your sensitive nub.
“So pretty,” he smiles into your neck, your hand on the back of his, playing with the now-sweaty strands of hair on the nape. “So pretty for me, taking my cock,” the dirty talking is welcome as he continues to bring you closer to a second orgasm, your breath hitching once again.
“Come inside of me,” you say it like a whisper, a secret in the stillness of the room, and Joel is unsure he even heard you correctly.
“Are you sure?” He says it not accusingly, but in a way that conveys he feels like he just won the lottery.
“Yes, please, fill me up.”
You can see the way his eyes darken more, shifting so he’s on his knees and using your body to fuck himself on his thick cock. His hand continued to play with your clit, bringing you so close to your orgasm that tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. His cheeks were getting hot as he thrusted in and out furiously, and you could almost see the stress melt off of his face as he came close to his own undoing.
The white-hot feeling washes over you once again, eyes shutting before you’re back on your elbows and watching intently. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire as his thrusts become sloppy, your name pouring out of his lips like a prayer. You’re clenching around him and letting him ride out his high alongside you, slowing after his hot cum coats your walls and leaves you full of him.
He collapses on top of you, cock softening inside as you both catch your breath together. Your chests are sticky with sweat as you breathe, taking in the smell of him, and the feel of his warmth on your body.
He pulls himself from you and flops beside you, still taking a moment to admire you. You look over at him, a lazy smile on your face as your hand reaches out to caress the skin of his chest. He takes the time to run his fingertips up your arms and back as you lay there in silence together, just soaking in the moment in a post-sex glow.
“I guess I should get going,” you say after a few beats, sitting up to grab your dress off the floor. You cringe at the thought of throwing your underwear on and leaving, this being just another random hookup for you that never lead to anything. Joel was sweet.
A confused look spreads across his features and his brows knit together, before sitting up next to you at the edge of the bed.
“I mean, I don’t know how these things usually go,” he laughs, as his hand finds your lower back. “But you don’t gotta run outta here like a scared animal or somethin’.”
You look up at him again, unsure of what to do next. In your, albeit limited, experience with dating app hookups, you were expected to leave pretty much right after.
“Oh, um,” you look around the room at the soft worn-in sheets and the TV across from Joel’s bed. You take a look at him again, your eyes meeting his to match his gaze, where you can tell he’s mentally begging that you’ll stay the night.
“I mean, if you don’t mind, I’d be happy to stay.” Joel smiled lopsidedly and let his hand rub soothing circles at your lower back. 
“I’ll make it worth your while,” he laughs, stepping over to go into the bathroom and warm up a cloth for the mess spilling out from between your legs. “I wouldn’t mind wakin’ up and doing all that again tomorrow.”
You laugh and lay back onto his bed as he presses the warm cloth to your pussy, his lips once again finding yours to pull you in for a sweet kiss. 
You nod, sliding between the comfortable sheets as Joel runs downstairs to grab your abandoned drinks as well as a couple of bottles of ice cold water. He slips into the sheets next to you, not bothering to throw on any pajamas (not that you were complaining), and settling in beside you. After a few gulps of water, you nestled into his chest and let your hand find his tummy, resting on it as you listened to the even pattern of his breath.
“We should do this again. Like, after tomorrow morning.” you say quietly as you’re drifting in and out of sleep. His fingertips continues to slide across your arm and give you goosebumps as you snuggled closer into him, hearing a laugh exhale out of his nose and feeling a kiss press to the top of your head. 
In his sleepy, deep southern drawl, he replies. “Don’t have to ask me twice, darlin’.”
2K notes · View notes
formulafics · 3 months
Text
❀ MAKE IT REAL | OP81
Scenario: basically ‘the winner takes all’, but oscar edition…or, the one where despite yn being the closest to oscar, no one suspects the two to be dating. that is, until a video of the pair at a valley concert comes out. (inspired by the song ‘Cure’ by Valley (bless @renarots for this one))
Pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader
A/N: squadron, it is an oscar day. it took me entirely too long to get to this request, but i’ve finally made it. i hope you guys like this fic as much as i liked making it 🫶🏻
MASTERLIST
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ynln on instagram
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, logansargeant, and 92,431 others
ynln happy halloween 🎃😚
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landonorris why is oscar standing like that
⤷ ynln he’s just a boy leave him alone
papayabull MY BABIES THEYRE SO CUTE
dreamyalbon this friendship is everything to me
⤷ formulaferrari not a single thing about yn and oscars relationship is giving “friends” but okay
⤷ dreamyalbon there’s no way they’re anything more than friends though 😭
rizzciardo the way yn’s whole feed is becoming oscar is so funny
formulaverstappen who’s gonna tell them that daphne and fred had a romantic relationship
⤷ ln4nation to be fair, it’s pretty common for friends to go as romantic duos, platonically.
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ynln on instagram
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, maxfewtrell, riabish, logansargeant, and 142,211 others
ynln the best mornings ☀️ (also i made oscar the bracelet he’s wearing in the third slide i feel so proud of myself)
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oscarpiastri ❤️
riabish second slide 🥹
⤷ norrisnation ria and yn’s friendship is my favorite thing ever
dreamyalbon yn making oscar a bracelet is so cute </3
formulaferrari another day, another oscar post from yn. i love it here
landosbeachball THE ONLY BESTIES EVER 🫶🏻 the slide of them holding hands omg
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f1wagsdaily on Instagram
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13,621 likes
f1wagsdaily do you think yn ln is dating anyone on the grid? if so, who? 👀
(left to right) yn and lando, yn and daniel, yn and charles
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norrisnation im so convinced that if it’s anyone it’s danny ric 😭 how do you go to music festivals and football games together so often and NOT date
⤷ charlesrrari yes but also they don’t hang out NEARLY as much anymore? also to be fair, yn’s closest friend - oscar aside - is lando, so it’s kind of natural that she would be in the mclaren garage more, so it just SEEMS like it’s daniel? idk im not convinced that it’s him
formula44 idk i feel like lando is the only one that makes sense
⤷ papayabull what about oscar?
⤷ formula44 idk i just can’t see them together
xf1x oscar piastri (solely based on how much they’re togwther)
⤷ papayanorris lore drop: yn rejected oscar in f3 because he was too busy so id imagine it’s the same now 🤷🏻‍♀️
⤷ xf1x to me that makes it seem more likely since that means they were obviously interested in each other?
⤷ papayanorris good point but maybe theyve moved on? 👀
⤷ pastrypiastri okay but imagine dating oscar and he’s THAT close with another girl, and same with yn being that close with another guy? idk this thread might have put me on the ynoscar agenda 🤭
shumirrari wild guess: jenson button (if you know you know)
⤷ chilisainz what am i missing?
⤷ shumirrari basically lando and jenson button are sort of friends so lando introduced yn to jenson at a race, and lando took pictures of them together. i’m pretty sure yn posted them a while back? idk but it was just a silly guess (her and jenson would be cute though, but i highly doubt it’s them LMAO)
formulaferrari i am TIRED why does no one have faith in the oscyn agenda
⤷ formulaferrari also does no one notice that oscar always is kind of shy around yn or am i actually delusional on this one
⤷ charlesrrari wait lowkey you’re onto something rn 👀
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grandprixsandgossip on Instagram
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liked by ynln and 24,532 others
grandprixsandgossip Oscar Piastri and Yn Ln, a known friend of many drivers on the grid, seen kissing outside of a concert arena last night.
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norrisnation girl there’s three pixels on my screen that could be anyone
papayabull oscar jack piastri what are you DOING
piastrisgirl never, and i mean NEVER, did i expect that out of all the f1 drivers, oscar would be the one where we find out about his girlfriend like this
ln4world this cannot be real
formulaferrari SCREAMING IM INSANE THIS IS EVERHTINH TO ME
stardustf1 okay but wasn’t oscar wearing a hoodie in the other picture that the one guy posted?
⤷ rizzciardo yes, but i’m assuming oscar took the hoodie off and gave it to yn, because not only can you see her wearing a hoodie in this picture (even though it’s blurry, it looks like the same one oscar was wearing), AND ria posted a story of her and yn goofing off after the concert where yn was wearing a black hoodie so 👀
chilisainz were not gonna mention yn in the likes?
⤷ norrisnation she’s having her pierre moment 🤷🏻‍♀️
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ynln on Instagram
🎶 Cure - Valley
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, alex_albon, danielricciardo, and 124,521 others
ynln concerts are my heaven, but they’re paradise when i’m with him 🫶🏻 @/oscarpiastri is my concert buddy for life whether he wants it or not
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landonorris but are you dating or?
⤷ ynln i’m gonna need you to be so fr rn lando
oscarpiastri fortunately for us, i’m more than happy to be your concert buddy. ❤️
⤷ ynln music to my ears 😚
riabish literally the cutest couple i know *liked by ynln*
princepiastri THE CAPTION, OSCARS COMMENT, THE PICTURES?? THIS IS THE WORST DAY OF MY LIFE
formula44 yn im sorry for not believing in you and oscar
dreamyalbon AND WHOS GOING TO MENTION THE SONG??
⤷ yukit22enthusiast AS A VALLEY LOVER I AM RIGJT THERE WITH YOU
formulaferrari THE FACT THAT THESE SRE ALL DIFFERENT CONCERTS OH MYGOD
formulaferrari i can finally call them my parents and not get flamed
papayabull and so whatever you do don’t listen to the song because i’m so upset
⤷ stardustf1 someone harassed(/j) the guy who took the picture of them at the concert into telling them what song was playing when he took that picture and it was cure 🫠💔
⤷ papayabull NOOOOO it’s officially their song, i don’t make the rules
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TAGLIST
@renarots @jsjcue @treehouse-mouse @lovstappen @illicitverstappen @vellicora @lokietro @arkhammaid @piasstrisblog @leclercvsx @i-love-ptv @pretty-little-bunny382728 @kortneej81 @elliegrey2803 @marshmummy @spidersophie @stopeatread @minkyungseokie @jellyfish123guts @harrysdimple05 @fastcarsandshit @motorsp0rt @sadieurlady @cixrosie @hiireadstuff
Thank you for reading! All feedback is appreciated 💞
1K notes · View notes
cake-writes · 5 months
Text
Just This Once
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Pairing: Kakashi x Female!Reader
Warnings: smut, breeding kink, he gets lost in the sauce frfr, situationship… ish?, this man wants to RUN, disorganised attachment style (primarily avoidant), penis in vagina sex, teasing, edging (accidental), unprotected sex, creampie
Word Count: 5.3k
Summary: Kakashi discovers that he has a breeding kink. It's kind of a spiritual experience.
Inspired by @rookie98writes's fic Leave It On
Kakashi isn’t used to the strange sort of domesticity that comes with being in a... whatever this is. It’s not quite a relationship. A situationship, maybe. He’d say it’s something more than friends-with-benefits, but the two of you aren’t really friends, either.  
You come together every now and then. That’s all. Like two passing ships in the night. 
So why is he standing in front of your stove, cooking dinner while you sort through the pile of unopened mail on your kitchen table? Why did he offer to water your plants while you were away? Why does he want to do anything for you? 
Kakashi knows what it’s like trying to play catch-up after some time away from home—two months, in your case. He’d knocked on your door a few minutes ago with the intention of returning your key, and he must have caught you right after you got back from the store if the two bags of groceries on your kitchen counter were any indication. 
You looked so dead on your feet that Kakashi took over from there, unprompted. But now, as he stirs the pot of flavourful soup simmering away on the stove, his mind sees fit to wander.  
What the hell is he doing?  
He’s getting too attached. That’s what he’s doing.  
It’s that time again—time to cut and run, just as he always does when things start to become complicated. Kakashi makes a habit of ending any potential connection before it can even start, because he can’t afford to lose anyone else. He can’t get hurt if he never lets anyone in. It’s easier that way. 
“I need to schedule my injection,” you mutter to yourself as you read through one letter. Then you sigh and toss it back down onto the table, before you lean back in your chair and rub your tired eyes. “We should probably get used to using condoms again until I can book an appointment.” 
Your birth control must be overdue, then.  
“Sure,” Kakashi answers, feigning unbothered. The two of you used condoms in the beginning, but after a particularly gruesome mission that nearly saw him home in a box, Kakashi stopped reaching for the bedside drawer, and you stopped asking him to.  
He should have known then that he was getting too attached. 
Still, it’s your body. Whatever you want. He’ll end things in the morning either way. 
As Kakashi samples a bit of the soup he’s minding on the stove, pausing for a moment to add a bit more salt, it suddenly sinks in – really sinks in – what could happen if the two of you aren’t careful.  
He could get you pregnant. 
A jolt of arousal shoots through him.
Kakashi doesn’t want children, not now, not ever, which is why it doesn’t make a lick of sense that such a thing would turn him on. He likes the idea of his seed taking root inside of you. He might even enjoy it, the imagery his mind conjures—you bent over for him, begging him to give you a baby, your pretty yukata hiked up around your waist…  
His clan crest embroidered on the back of it.  
Kakashi swears. Loudly.
You startle, looking over at him in alarm. “What happened? Are you okay?” 
“I’m fine,” he lies. Then he proceeds to play it off like he burned himself, but he isn’t fine. No, that single thought, that single fantasy, scares the complete and utter shit out of him—but it turns him on even more, and that’s so much worse.  
He’s already too attached. Way too fucking attached. 
Kakashi doesn’t do feelings. He has them, of course, much like any other person, but he doesn’t let them show very often, and he certainly doesn’t talk about them. He won’t say in so many words that he cares; instead, he shows you through his actions alone. 
His knees brush the underside of your thighs as he settles between your legs, bracing himself with one hand beside your head.  
What a vision you make, spread out for him like this.  
Your lamp had blown when you went to turn it on, leaving the streetlights to illuminate your features in a sickly hue of yellow-green. It isn’t romantic in the least, but he can’t help thinking that you’ve never looked more beautiful than in this moment—maybe because it’s the last time he’ll ever get to see you like this.  
The sight of you, so needy and wanting, fills his chest with something bittersweet.  
The tomoe of his sharingan spins lazily as he memorises the curves of your body, the muss of your hair, the rise and fall of your chest as you work to recover from your first orgasm of the night. His fingers are still tacky with your essence, and he smears the residual wetness over the head of his cock to make the entry a little easier. 
“You should wear a condom,” comes your breathy whisper, but you make no move to stop him. Your eyes almost seem to glow as you peer up at him in the dark, worrying your lower lip between your teeth. 
“Mm. Do you want me to?” 
His question hangs heavy in the air.  
The only things Kakashi can hear are your soft breaths and the sound of his own steady heartbeat, which quickens with every silent second that passes.  
You want to say no, he realises.  
He wants you to say no. 
“I like it better without,” you answer quietly, and the implication isn’t lost on him. Not when you look up at him with those big doe eyes, like you don’t know the risk. 
Because there is a risk, and he knows it. Kakashi hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it all night—wicked thoughts, terrible thoughts—thoughts of filling your fertile womb with his seed, thoughts of watching your belly grow round with his child, thoughts of seeing his clan sigil stamped between your shoulder blades like a mark of ownership. 
His.  
Against his better judgement, Kakashi does exactly what he shouldn’t do.  
He agrees.
“Just this once.”  
Just like he says every other time—except every other time, there hasn't been a risk.
Your coy little smile is what prompts him to lower down onto an arm and settle more of his weight on you. Kakashi dips his head to kiss you indulgently, savouring the taste of you, the feel of you beneath him. He kisses you like he hopes to convey just how much he missed you while you were gone, like you might be able to taste the unspoken words that linger in his mouth. 
He kisses you like he means it—and he does. That’s why he needs to go. 
As his tongue twines with yours, Kakashi fills you in a slow, beautiful glide that wrenches a whimper from your throat. 
He knows he should go easy on you, but he relishes in the rapid flutter of your walls as you struggle to adjust to him after so much time apart. A surge of masculine pride washes over him, tinged with a hint of guilt for stretching you open like this. He isn’t exactly small, after all, but you take him so well. 
To ease any potential discomfort, he smooths his hand up the soft skin of your thigh in a soothing caress, before he trails gentle, placating kisses along your jawline. “Is this okay?” Kakashi asks, voice low, only to be rewarded with a particularly strong contraction that makes his toes curl. 
“More than okay,” you sigh. 
As a test, he shifts his hips. When Kakashi hears your breath hitch, he knows that you can handle more.  
He starts slow, rocking into you sensually, but he already knows that he isn’t going to last. It’s been just as long for him, and you’re tighter than you’ve ever been.  
“God, Kakashi, you feel so good.”  
So do you. Kakashi sucks a bruise on your neck in response, if only to muffle the sound of his own pleasure when your perfect cunt clenches around him again.  
He needs to pace himself, or he’ll finish too soon—but then you ask him for more, and what else can he do but oblige you?
He speeds up, not overly so, just enough that both of you can hear the slick, sloppy sounds of your lovemaking. The smell of your arousal permeates the air, and he’s tempted to have another taste. 
Later. 
“You’re so wet,” he murmurs into your ear. “Did you miss me that much?” 
Maybe he’s reassurance-seeking – just a little – but your answering whine tells him what he already knows. 
He’ll miss this. He’ll miss you. That’s why he needs to go. 
“Stay with me,” you rasp. You’ve always been good at noticing when he’s stuck in his head, but right now, Kakashi can’t help but wonder if you’ve just read his thoughts. You see through him so easily. It’s one of the things he likes about you. 
“Sorry,” he says with genuine apology, leaning in to capture your lips again. You let out a pleased hum into his mouth and lift your thighs up a little higher—an offering, one he’s more than happy to accept, even if he doesn’t plan to reciprocate.  
It’s selfish, he knows. 
The new angle does something to him, or maybe it’s because he's well aware that it would be even easier to fill you up this way. He reaches deeper like this, and the tilt of your hips would perfectly hold his cum in place, increasing the chances that it’ll take. 
He wants it to take. 
Kakashi exhales a long, shaky breath. He shouldn’t want that as much as he does. He shouldn’t want it at all.  
“Close?”  
Yes, but he’s not going to tell you that. Kakashi pulls back to look at you, only to find you gazing up at him like he’s hung the moon. It makes his heart ache.  
He stamps it down. 
“I could be,” he teases lightly—a non-answer. “Are you?” 
When you open your mouth to respond, however, he snaps his hips forward suddenly to make you trip over your words. “I— shit,” you swear, and his eyes shine with silent laughter. Your own narrow playfully as you add, “I could be too, if you keep that up.”  
“Really?” 
To pick on you a little, Kakashi withdraws from your tight heat more slowly than he has all night, agonisingly slowly, until only the head of him remains inside; and then he lingers there, purposely, until the stirrings of impatience start to take you over.  
It’s cute, the frown you give him, the pout he sees beginning to form.  
“Don’t be mean,” you tell him sulkily. 
His lips tug up at the corners, revealing a hint of prominent canine. “Maa, I didn’t realise you were in a rush,” Kakashi drawls. “And here I wanted to take my time with you.”  
Before you can read too much into what he’s just said, he slams home. Hard.
Your startled gasp brings on a flicker of self-satisfaction deep within. Kakashi relishes in the knowledge that only he can make you feel like this—especially when he starts to fuck you in earnest, prompting you to fling your arms around his shoulders.  
“F-Fuck, Kakashi, oh my god—” 
“That’s it,” he encourages gently. “Hold onto me.” He likes the closeness of it, the intimacy.
You cling to him like your life depends on it, which brings about a funny feeling in his chest that he can’t quite shake—something warm and gooey and affectionate.  
Kakashi stamps that down, too, and traces the line of your neck with his tongue, kissing and sucking at your sensitive skin until you shiver. Seeing your throat so littered with love bites unearths something within him, something primal, that he’s always refused to name.
He likes seeing the marks he’s left on you. He wants them to mean something. He wants them to mean that you’re his. 
He’s too attached.  
To distract himself from what he intends to do in the morning, Kakashi picks up the pace, flesh smacking against flesh as he snaps his hips into yours, fast and rough, exactly how you want it.  
It doesn’t last long. He’s too worked up.  
Kakashi knows he’ll come before you do if he continues like this, but when he tries to slow down, you dig your heels insistently into his ass. 
“Don’t stop, please don’t stop, please—” 
“I’ll have to pull out soon,” he says raggedly, even though the thought of finishing in you already has him ready to blow.
When Kakashi feels you lock your ankles behind him, he nearly does.  
“Come inside me,” you whine, your breath fanning hot over the shell of his ear.  
His thoughts screech to a halt. You want him to come inside you, knock you up— 
“Fuck,” he curses, stopping abruptly, buried all the way to the hilt. His cock throbs wildly, desperate for release, forcing him to tightly grip the the sheets above your head in order to stave it off. 
If he moves right now, he’s done for.  
When you make a quiet, frustrated sound deep in your throat and wiggle your hips, Kakashi barely manages to hang on. He can feel that tell-tale flutter inside of you, the one that indicates exactly how close you are, but he’s closer. His breaths come out in short, sharp pants as he tries to hold himself together.  
You finish first. Always. 
“Don’t be mean,” you say again, but you sound a little more petulant this time.  
Kakashi lets out an exhausted sort of laugh and presses a wet smack of a kiss just beneath your ear, making you giggle. “You like it when I’m mean.”  
“I like it when you’re nice,” you clap back, voice breathy. 
Kakashi hums knowingly. “All right. I can be nice.”  
Then he pulls back just enough to pepper your face with kisses, and you squeal in delight, though it soon tapers off into a moan when he starts to trail them down your throat, each one more sensual than the last. He palms one of your breasts, gently squeezing, tweaking a nipple— 
“Come on,” you whine, digging your heels into his ass a second time. 
He laughs softly at that. No more teasing. You want him to be nice.
You inhale sharply when Kakashi picks back up where he left off, this time with quick, shallow thrusts that target your g-spot. He smooths his hand down your side, savouring the softness of your skin, then he slides it in between your bodies to rub your clit in just the way you like—the way he remembers you like, because he’s too fucking attached. And sure enough, when your hips buck from the added sensation, he knows that it’s working for you. 
“If you—If you edge me again, I swear to god—” 
Upon hearing the indignation in your voice, Kakashi laughs softly. “I won’t.” 
Then he remembers that he won’t have a chance to edge you again. Not after tonight. 
His jaw tenses at the reminder. 
“Fuck, I’m so close,” you gasp, holding onto him, needing him, which pulls him right back into the present. “Come with me. Please?” 
Kakashi bites back a groan and slides in deeper, readying to do what his body craves. 
No. He can’t come with you. He’d have to finish inside in order for that to happen. 
And just like that, he’s back to teetering on the edge. The filth his mind conjures nearly proves to be his undoing—a vivid image of your tight, wet cunt wringing out every drop of his cum until it takes, tying you to him, making you need him. Making you his. The threat of it simmers under his skin, but it’s starting to feel more like a guarantee. 
Get her there, then pull out. 
Kakashi repeats those words in his head like a mantra, over and over, like it’ll ensure that he lasts, and it works—at least until you start to move your hips in time with his thrusts. You meet him at the perfect angle, sucking him deep on every stroke, allowing him to slide just beyond your cervix and into that spot that sends your voice into a fever pitch. 
A choked sob escapes you as you rake your nails down his back, leaving red lines in your wake. The sting of it only sends him higher, and he sinks his teeth into the junction of your neck and shoulder to prevent himself from blowing too soon. 
“Right there, Kakashi, right fucking there—” 
Right there, so deep within you that if he came right now— 
He groans when he imagines what would happen, and it all ends with his baby in your belly and his family crest on your back. It shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does, yet he fucks into you with purpose, now—hard, deep, powerful thrusts that knock your headboard into the wall. 
Kakashi knows exactly what that purpose is. The primal part of his brain won’t let him forget it. 
“Yes, just like that, fuck me, make me fucking yours—” 
He kisses you to shut you up, because if he hears another syllable, he’s sure to fill you to the brim. It’s not a gentle kiss, not now. He holds your head in place with a firm grip on your jaw, shoves his tongue into your mouth to assert his control, and still, he recites his mantra. 
Get her there, then pull out.  
Get her there, then pull out.  
Get her there, then—  
You jerk your head away to gulp in a breath of fresh air, chest heaving from exertion, and Kakashi’s eyes sweep over your face for any sign of discomfort. What he finds is the opposite, and he drinks in the pleasured scrunch of your brows, the hazy flutter of your eyelids, the kiss-swollen state of your lips. 
Seeing your muscles tense and strain as you struggle to keep your eyes on his is one of the most intimate things he’s ever experienced.  
“Come inside me,” you beg, and he can hear the desperation there, see it written all over your pretty face. “I need it, I fucking need it, Kakashi, give me your cum—” 
“I’ll give it to you,” he chokes out. Anything for you. Anything you want. 
The way your fingers wrench into his hair belies a hunger that matches his own, and you drag him down for another kiss, messy and insistent, demanding that he make good on his promise to pump you full. He can feel the ripple of your inner walls as you come undone, feel the painfully tight squeeze of your legs around his waist, holding him there, ensuring that he stays; and never in his life has he felt so overwhelmed.  
He can’t pull out. Not now. Not when you’re so willing to milk him dry. 
Kakashi kisses you with everything that he is as he shoves himself impossibly deep inside of you, acting solely on instinct to drown your cervix in hot, sticky spend. He lets out a sound of pure male satisfaction that you eagerly swallow down, your tongue massaging his in tune with every erratic jerk of his hips as he empties himself inside of you, painting your insides white, marking you as his.  
It feels good. It feels right. 
He’s too attached. 
He doesn’t care. 
As he comes down from his high, all Kakashi can think about is how fucking risky it is, what he’s just done, which only ruins him more when the post-orgasm clarity finally hits. 
Why the hell did he do that?  
What the hell did he do?
Your thighs tremble and shake, a sign that he’s done his job well, though he feels no pride in it—just a growing sense of panic.  
He needs to go. He needs to go right now. Not tomorrow. Now. He needs to get the hell out of here and never look back, right fucking now.  
Then he hears your quiet sob, and his heart leaps into his throat. Kakashi jerks his head down to look at you, and when he sees the tears rolling down your cheeks, he actually does panic.  
“Did I— Shit,” he quickly pulls out to check on you, more attentive than he’s ever been, “Did I hurt you?” 
It wouldn’t be the first time he’s accidentally hurt a woman during sex, but he really should have taken it easier on you. He probably went too deep and hit your cervix a little too hard. That’s what usually tends to happen. 
“No,” you sniffle. “I’m fine. I just... I really missed you.” 
Fuck. Don’t say that. You’ll make him want to stay.  
His eyes soften as they trail over your features – the colour of your irises, the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips – and he gently smooths your tears away with the backs of his fingers. “I didn’t hurt you?” 
You shake your head and offer him a watery smile. “I also came really, really hard,” you add matter-of-factly, and he huffs out a relieved laugh. It’s hormonal, then. “They’re happy tears, Kakashi. Calm down.” 
Teasing or not, someone telling him of all people to calm down is an otherworldly experience. The phrase lands strangely, and for the first time since he came to see you tonight, his thoughts quiet down to a dull background murmur. 
They’re happy tears, you said. 
You’re happy with him. 
He’s happy with you, too. He doesn’t want to go.  
You frown, then, and lean up onto your elbows to look at him more closely. “What’s wrong?”  
Kakashi can’t be sure what you see in his expression to warrant that sort of question, but the fight finally leaves him. He sits back on his heels and drags a hand down his face, feeling defeated for a reason he can’t explain.  
“I was just...” Happy, for a moment. Happy to be with you. “Worried,” he finishes lamely. He can’t look at you, not when he feels the heat of a blush creeping up his neck. 
You laugh and turn him back towards you, gently cupping the side of his face. “Okay. Well, I’m fine,” you pat his cheek in playful reprimand, “but I am leaking all over my clean sheets, and it’s your fault, so...”  
That draws his attention. When Kakashi sees the creamy mess spilling out of you, his flaccid cock twitches with interest even after he remembers why his stomach is in knots.  
“We shouldn’t have done that,” he says hoarsely, transfixed by the sight. 
He wants to do it again.  
He shouldn’t want to do it again. He feels fucking crazy for having done it once already, when the two of you aren’t even in a relationship, let alone in any way prepared for a child. But again? A second time? He’d have to be certifiably insane. 
“It’s fine,” you reassure him, and Kakashi wonders how the hell you can possibly be taking it so in stride. He came a lot. There’s so much of it dripping out onto the sheets that it’s starting to create a small puddle under your ass, and there’s even more inside of you—a lot more, judging by how hard he came. 
It might take. It might seriously take, and you think it’s fine? 
“You’re doing it again,” you tell him, and his eyes snap back up to yours. He’s in his head again, you mean. Then you chew your lip for a moment, hesitation evident, before you ask carefully, “You’ve been acting a little… off tonight. Is everything okay?”  
Every single one of his instincts is telling him to run. That’s where this conversation always leads, but he’s not ready for it. Not yet. Maybe not ever. 
He swallows thickly. “I’m fine.” 
When you frown at him, skeptical, Kakashi shifts uncomfortably under your gaze.  
“Okay. I won’t pry. But, um, I’m here. You know. If you ever need to talk.” You say it a little awkwardly, like you aren’t sure if he’d be offended by the suggestion, and the worried crease between your brows only grows at whatever you see in his expression. “Or... Or not.” 
You laugh nervously, then, and shift away from him, only to wrinkle your nose when more of his cum oozes out of you.  
It’s cute. You’re cute. 
“You said it’s fine. Why?” The question leaves him before he even thinks it through, but it’s too late, now.  
“What?” 
This wasn’t the first time he’s come inside of you, not by a long shot, but it’s certainly the riskiest. “I finished inside. Why aren’t you more upset?” 
“What do you mean? You finish inside me all the—” Then you stop, and your brows shoot straight up onto your forehead. “Wait, is this because of my birth control?”  
“Well, it’s overdue, isn’t it?”  
You stare at him for a prolonged moment, and he can almost see the gears turning in your head. Then your nostrils flare. “Are you kidding me? You thought my birth control was overdue, and you still—” Scandalised, you slap him on the arm. “Kakashi!” 
Oh. Well. It must not be overdue yet, then. 
Of course you wouldn’t let him come inside if there was a chance that you might conceive. He’s a fucking idiot. 
“That’s so bad! What if you actually got me pregnant?” 
A lick of heat shoots up his spine upon hearing you give voice to what’s been on his mind all night. Kakashi stares at you, wide eyed, and blushes all the way to the tips of his ears.  
You study his face for a moment, before you purse your lips, looking a little troubled. Or pissed off. He can’t really tell. “I mean... Did you want to get me pregnant?” 
“No,” he rushes to say, his cheeks burning hot because yes, he did, but not for real.  “No. Not at all. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, and...”  
How the hell is he supposed to explain himself? Neither of you are exactly vanilla, you’ve explored a number of kinks together, but this is something else entirely. Then again, a breeding kink would make the most sense out of any, considering it stems from a biological urge to procreate. 
But would you even believe him if he said he only gets off to the fantasy of it, and not the reality? Because if a woman ever said that to him, he’d run away as fast as he could. 
A sly smile tugs at your lips, then, a knowing smile, and Kakashi quickly averts his eyes to the window, embarrassed. 
“You like it, don’t you?” you hum, seductively walking your fingers along his shoulders. “You like the idea of knocking me up.” 
Refusing to look at you, Kakashi clears his throat, trying to ignore the arousal that comes on from your suggestive tone, never mind the words you speak in it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
“No?” The sheets rustle as you reposition yourself, and then, when your fingers delicately wrap around his cock, he inhales sharply and bites the inside of his cheek. “Then why are you so hard?”  
And he is, too. He’s already fully erect and ready for another round, and he knows that there’s no way to lie his way out of it anymore. As you start to work your hand over him in slow, sensual strokes, up and down, coaxing the answer out of him, his head drops back. 
“Because,” he rasps.  
The sheets shift again, and then you crawl into his lap. He welcomes you gladly, splaying his hand over your lower back to steady you, though he still can’t face you. He’s too embarrassed. 
“Because why?” you ask breathlessly. Kakashi lets out a pleasured sigh as you kiss and suck your way up the side of his neck, stroking him steadily, before you purr into his ear, “Because you want to give me a baby?” 
A soft sound of approval rips out of his throat, and his cock twitches into your palm. “Don’t—Don’t say that,” he pleads. 
“Hm? Why not?” 
To hell with it. No sense in hiding it anymore. “Because I might actually do it.” 
“Yeah?” Your teeth tug playfully at his earlobe before you pull back to look at him, and Kakashi finally wills himself to meet your sultry gaze, humiliated though he is. “You know,” you muse, “I don’t like condoms for a reason. Do you know why?” 
The breath leaves his lungs with a whoosh.
Oh, he should have known. You’re just as filthy as he is. Of course you’d have a breeding kink, too, though he’s exceedingly grateful that you’d kept it to yourself until now. You’ve never been shy about sharing the things you enjoy, which means you probably figured out how he’d react. That’s the only explanation. 
He likes that you understand him as well as you do. 
He likes you.
“I think I might be able to guess,” Kakashi says knowingly, a smile playing at his lips. When he leans in to kiss you again, all he can think is: maybe it’s not a bad thing to be too attached. 
Snippet #1:
“You said it was overdue,” Kakashi tells you. 
“No, I said I needed to make an appointment,” you correct, and he can see that you’re struggling not to laugh. “I still have, like, a week left on it. I just didn’t think I’d be able to get an appointment that soon. It doesn’t hurt to be careful.” 
While you cook breakfast for the two of you, Kakashi wraps his arms around your waist from behind and traces the shell of your ear with his tongue.  “And what if I don’t want to be careful?”  
He feels the shiver wrack your body, but then you do laugh at him. “Down, boy. Three rounds wasn’t enough for you?” 
“Oh, I don’t know...” Kakashi pulls you back against him, allowing you to feel the answer for yourself. “You tell me.” 
Snippet #2:
Kakashi hides his face in your pillow, feeling distinctly vulnerable without his mask. “Don’t tease me,” he groans, muffled. “I have a delicate constitution.” 
You cackle at his discomfort, like the cruel woman you are. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I’m really, really curious.” Then you hum thoughtfully. “Do you want to know one of mine?” 
He shifts his head just enough to reveal one curious eye. 
You squirm a little, then, like you’re finally starting to realise exactly how embarrassing this is to talk about. “I, um...” A pause. “So, you know how...” Another pause, and you take a deep breath. “Okay. I like to imagine that I'm being used to—to repopulate a clan, I guess. Just, over and over. Lots of kids. But not for real.” 
He feels another jolt of arousal at your admission. 
Looks like you’re on the same page, then. 
Then Kakashi leans up onto his elbow to regard you properly, and then he lifts an eyebrow, as if to point out how closely that particular fantasy hits to home. 
That’s when you seem to realise who you’re talking to – the sole remaining member of a clan that could probably stand to be repopulated – and your eyes go wide, before you nearly trip over yourself to add, “It—It has nothing to do with your clan, specifically, Kakashi, it’s just—” 
“A fantasy,” he finishes for you, amused. 
 You worry your lip between your teeth and nod. 
“Well,” Kakashi says, considering his answer for a moment, “I might have imagined that, too. Specifically.” Then he gives you a roguish grin, intending to pay you back in kind for your teasing. “How many children do you think would be enough for my clan to be sufficiently repopulated, hm? I’m thinking eight.” 
Mortified, you bury your face in your hands. “Oh my god! Eight?” 
Payback’s a bitch. “Well, I was originally going to say ten, but—” 
When you squeal in embarrassment and yank the blankets over your head, Kakashi barely manages to stifle a laugh.  
A/N: This is the first thing I've posted in a hot minute, so your feedback would mean a lot - please let me know what you think :)
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nope-body · 1 year
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#so like taking with the physical therapist yesterday helped me feel a bit more optimistic about my future#but they operate under the goal of getting people to as low of a pain rating as possible#which isn’t a bad thing!#but it’s just hard to believe them when they say that one of my goals is bringing my baseline pain down to a four (currently between 6 and 7#but used to be between 7 and 8)#like yes! it’s only been three months and my pain has gotten better but it just means that I’m able to do more to keep up with my peers#it was hindering me significantly and still does!#so whenever my pain decreases I do more and then my pain goes back up because half of it is just trying to live my life#my pain keeps me from functioning and doing things I want to do and I don’t even realize it because I’m so used to it#and that’s entirely due to my parents and the doctor not listening to me when I told them that I was in extreme joint pain year after year#and they dismissed me. They just dismissed me!#I could have gotten physical therapy so much earlier. It might have prevented tons of pain!#but I was ignored for five years and now I tell doctors my average pain level and they do a double take because a person should not be#going through their entire day at a 7! that’s not something most people are able to do let alone do every single day!!#but I never had any other choice#i bought myself a cane because I got tired of limping by the end of the day#I had no guidance or support. I barely knew what I was doing other than I needed something to help me when my hip won’t stay in place#I couldn’t even go to my parents because they wouldn’t believe me and they’d just make me feel bad for it!#I cannot conceptualize being in no pain because I almost never experience it#and apparently people aren’t even supposed to be in pain most of the time#it just. sucks. it really does
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