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lazyjellyfish300 · 3 months

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Mom and Dad Are Fighting On Valentine's Day 💌

Miguel O'Hara x Fem wife reader

Synopsis: same universe as Mom and Dad Are Fighting On Christmas. You and Miguel are married with three kids: Gabi(his), Marcus(yours), and Anthony(you two had him together). He falls back into his workaholic patterns and you two have a big fight that nearly ruins your big Valentine's Day plans. Word count 5.2k

Sequel-Mother's Day ending blurb

A/N: My last piece for my Valentine's Day special! I just love this man so much lol. Enjoy! Here's the first one I posted for V Day (this fic is completely unrelated to this one)

TW: MINORS DNI, SMUT AT THE END (P IN V, FINGERING, CREAMPIE, ORAL F RECEIVING BUT DOESN'T GO INTO TOO MUCH DETAIL, BREEDING,) FAMILY PLANNING, TALKS OF DEPRESSION, TALK OF ABUSE, ANGST, MARRIAGE TROUBLES, JEALOUSY, INSECURITY, MAYBE ALLUDES TO POSTPARTUM DEPRESSION, MENTION OF TRADITIONAL GENDER ROLES, OC SIBLINGS TO GABI, OC OF YOUR (READER'S) MOTHER. The OCS HAVE PRETTY MUCH LITTLE TO NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION, READER'S MOTHER HAS NONE WHATSOEVER. ANTHONY FAVORS MIGUEL MORE IN TERMS OF LOOKS, THIS IS MORE DISCUSSED IN THE CHRISTMAS FIC BEFORE THIS.

-----

It was February 1st and one of the first nights you and your husband actually went to bed at the same time in weeks.

"Let's make a baby this Valentine's Day..." Miguel whispered as his large hand snaked under your arm to cup your breast. Your eyes fluttered, your phone slipped onto the ground, the spicy fanfic you were reading temporarily forgotten. You rolled your hips forward at his touch and panted softly.

"What...?"

"Hmmm....? ¿Quieres un otro niño conmigo, mi amor? (You want another child with me, my love?) He started laying hungry kisses on your neck, his breathing becoming more heavy and hot against your ear, which made you bite your lip. "We can have someone watch the kids...I'll take the day after off so we can have all night and everything..."

"Honey... the baby would be born in November?"

"Mhmmm..." Miguel was too busy caressing your now erect nipples and moving a hand to your crotch to really focus on your conversation.

"They'd be a Scorpio."

Miguel pulls back with an amused look on his face

"Baby...be serious. That's what you're worried about?"

You shrug. "I mean..."

Miguel scoffed and grabbed your breasts again. "I don't care when they're born...just want another little one running around...has your cute nose and everything..." His lips graze upwards on your neck until they come to rest on your jaw. "¿Qué dices?" (What do you say) he murmurs against your skin.

Your mind rushes with all kinds of thoughts. Anthony was quickly approaching his third birthday. You and Miguel had discussed adding just one more O'Hara to the family multiple times. It seemed like good timing. You missed the tender joy and even the sleep deprivation that a little baby brought with them.

You and Miguel had occasional quarrels over dividing housework here and there, but when it came to caring for the kids he was such a hands on father (when he wasn't going through one of his workaholic phases), that you didn't mind the extra labor a newborn demanded.

When people (rudely) asked you if you were done having kids, you couldn't give a firm no. One more child seemed like the perfect way to complete the family you and him built together. You were ready.

You look up at your husband, that irritatingly sexy smirk on his face as he gazes back down at you.

"Buy me dinner first?" You smirk back.

Miguel lets out a hearty chuckle, "I can handle that...I am a gentleman after all. Wouldn't want my pretty little wife thinking I have any ulterior motives..."

He leans down and you release more giggles as he blazes another trail of kisses between your breasts and down your stomach.

"You're impossible, O'Hara..."

----

The next morning, you two start your usual routine. You throw on your signature leggings and hoodie since you have three kids to wrangle, along with the morning carpool.

Miguel is rolling up his sleeves on his sweater as he leans over to plant a kiss on Gabi's and Marcus's heads as they scarf down their Fruit Loops cereal. He has to chase down little Anthony for a minute, and Anthony squeals as Miguel plants a goodbye kiss on his small chubby cheeks that are smeared with banana puree.

"Bye, baby..." Miguel gives your booty what he thought was a discreet love squeeze along with a peck on the lips, much to Gabi's chagrin.

"Gross!"

Miguel grins and opens the door to the garage.

"Mmm- don't forget! Gabi has her book report presentation at 2 pm today!" You call after him.

Shit... Miguel remembers. That's going to be a tough one to squeeze in his already stuffed schedule. "Okay, I'll see what I can do!"

You groan silently to yourself. You knew him well enough to know there was a 99% chance he wasn't coming based on that response alone. You plaster on a fake smile and try to shrug off your worry for the kids' sake. "Alright munchkins, the magic school express is leaving for school, pronto!"

----

After dropping off Gabi, Marcus and two of the neighbors' kids at school, you drop Anthony off at your mother's for some quality time while you catch up on housework. Or at least some of the housework because you end up showering and taking a 3 hour nap. The demands of the past week finally caught up to you. You groggily shut off the alarm on your phone. The clock said noon.

You text your husband, "Are you going to make it to Gabi's presentation?"

No answer.

But, that was typical. Miguel could get quite busy at HQ and not respond for hours. Still, you kept your hopes up that this time he'd make an honest effort to be there to support Gabi.

After lunch, you go back to your mother's and visit for a bit, then you and little Anthony head over to the school for Gabi's presentation promptly at 2 pm.

Gabi breaks out into a smile when she sees you and her baby brother enter the classroom. "Sissyyy!" Anthony babbles, waving his chunky arm.

Gabi runs to the back of the class and picks up little Anthony to give him a squeeze hello, he giggles furiously, kicking his dangling feet as she spins him around. You give both kids a warm smile then take Anthony in your lap as Gabi walks to the front of the classroom.

She hesitates for a moment and her eyes dart from you and Anthony to the door, as though she was expecting someone else to walk through. You get a sinking feeling in your gut when you realize she's looking for her papa. Her face falls a little bit when the door remains closed and the class goes silent, waiting for her to begin. You look at Gabi and give her an encouraging nod, not letting any of the disappointment you're feeling make itself known on your face.

Gabi takes a deep breath and starts to give her book report presentation. You hug Anthony a little closer to your chest as you both sit and watch, silently vowing to "accidentally" forget to cook Miguel dinner tonight.

Unfortunately, that night you didn't even get the opportunity to bitch him out because he came home some time around 3 am the next morning only to have to roll out of bed 3 hours later to beat the morning rush hour.

All of the excitement and positive momentum you thought you and Miguel were building after his suggestion to spend Valentine's Day together starts to chip away, day after day. He comes home in the wee hours of the night, missing dinner, homework, and bedtime. The kids seem to notice. Marcus snaps at you as you struggle to help him with his science homework. "Daddy knows how to do this stuff! I want him to help me, not you!"

You try to act like that comment didn't sting and answer in a calm but shaky voice. "Daddy's at work. I'm doing my best to help you and I need you to speak to me in a kinder tone, please."

Marcus grunts in frustration, stomping upstairs and slamming his door.

And, to make things worse, he begins picking more fights with Gabi than usual. Doors get slammed and toys get thrown as early as 8 am when a dispute arises over who gets to pick which cartoon is playing on the TV.

In the evenings, you have to scream at the top of your lungs and separate them after they start kicking each other under the table while little Anthony wails because he hates what's being served for dinner. The night ends with everyone in tears and all three kids eventually sleeping in your bed because they're too upset to stay in their rooms.

Miguel winds up on the couch or doesn't even come home at all, leaving you with an uneasy feeling in your stomach with a painful side of resentment.

On Valentine's Day, you wake up and look over. Gabi, Marcus, and Anthony are all in a pile lying against each other on Miguel's side of the bed. It's 5 am. You slide out of bed, taking care not to disrupt your sleeping babies.

You walk quietly downstairs, a storm brewing in your chest, a seething monologue you plan to unleash on your careless husband asleep on the couch again. You had his favorite bourbon, new cologne, his favorite snacks, and some new socks that you were going to set out for him to wake up to. He could forget about all of that now. He didn't even bother to get you anything, or even climb into bed with all of you at least when he got home.

You were preparing to hold his feet to the fire and ask where the hell he's been, if he's remembered he even has a family, and, if his sorry ass doesn't start coming home at a reasonable time or even issue a nearly two weeks overdue apology to Gabi for letting her down, that he can scrap your Valentine's Day plans, cancel the hotel, and you'll return all his gifts back to the store. Things haven't been this bad since Christmas when you nearly got divorced.

But, he's not there. The couch is bare. He spent another complete day and night at work. Didn't even come home so he could be there for you on fucking Valentine's Day. At this point, you just feel like crying. Frustration reached its boiling point and threatens to bubble over. You check your phone, the last text you sent to him was last night at 5 pm.

"Making dinner. Marcus is struggling with his science homework again and got upset with me. Will you please come home at a reasonable time tonight so you can talk to him about it? Are we still on for tomorrow and letting my mom watch the kids?"

The message was opened and read at 7:45 pm with no response. You walk outside onto your porch and call him, pacing back and forth restlessly as the phone rings.

----

Miguel walks through a portal back into his office at HQ, Felicia Hardy and Ben Reilly in tow. Felicia and Ben are bantering back and forth as Miguel notices an incoming call from you. Miguel's eyes are bloodshot, not having had a blink of sleep in nearly 18 hours

"Someone's in troubleee," Felicia teases. Miguel tries to brush off the comment as he nervously answers and utters a loud "FUCK!" when he realizes what today is.

Deep down, Miguel knew he had been getting worse lately. Diving head first into his work, so adamant on protecting the multiverse that he made himself blind to your needs and the needs of his children, seemingly a purposeful self-sabatoge. It was something you both unpacked early on in your relationship for you to eventually discover he had a form of depression.

A lot of it could be traced back to all those times where he was a boy who grew up way too fast as he shielded Gabriel from the obvious abuse his step dad inflicted on their family. He would take his responsibilities almost a little too seriously, always needing to be the solution to every problem, even if it meant setting himself on fire, and to the detriment of anyone close to him.

You two also battled over the age old argument the majority of married couples faced: the disproportionate division of visible and invisible labor. This was no doubt something that was ingrained in both of you growing up as a pattern that you two were fighting to try and break: the woman handles everything related to the home and kids, the permanent project manager of the family with little to no emotional assistance from the man. Meanwhile , the man works full time and makes such a healthy living that he can sustain her and multiple kids on it at once. The only domestic tasks he should be concerned with are the lawn and any random repairs around the house.

You were very supportive of his mental health of course, but it was times like these where you just needed him home, needed to feel like you didn't have to weather this storm on your own. A very distinct part of the vows you made to each other on your wedding day.

Sometimes you found yourself crying at night or when a love song came on, asking yourself if marriage was really this hard, or if love and the ideas of it that got planted in your head from an early age were just things of fiction. Something you clearly weren't meant to experience. Hell, none of the women on your side of the family did. Your grandma had a shitty marriage but stayed, your mom and dad divorced, and your aunt couldn't make any of her three marriages work.

You hear Miguel answer and you exhale with relief. "Did you get my text?..."

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose and nodded, "Yeah...Happy Valentine's Day... Lo siento, mi alma..."

(I'm sorry, my soul)

You cross your arms, his greeting and weak apology completely going over your head. "So, where the hell have you been? What have you been up to? I've said maybe 10 words to you in the past nearly two weeks. I've been doing this all by myself..." Your voice thickens and you begin to cry at last, "If you're hurting again you need to tell me..."

Miguel starts to interrupt you but you bulldoze over him, not letting him put out the fire that was lit underneath you. "I need you home. The kids need you home. I am not celebrating Valentine's Day with you in a hotel room tonight if you do not come home at a reasonable time this afternoon to see the kids before we need to drop them off at my mom's."

At that point, Ben makes Felicia giggle loudly in the background. The tone is flirtatious and breathy. The sound is awfully incriminating as it comes through on the other line. Miguel shoots a frantic, pissed off look in their direction.

Your heart does a death drop from your chest to your stomach as you hear it. The deep seated insecurity that always hung in the very back of your mind that liked to make unwelcome appearances, usually at the worst of times in your marriage. An unpleasant symptom of having a husband who was exceedingly physically attractive to practically anyone who laid eyes on him.

The fear he would eventually tire of you and leave you high and dry for someone else. Someone prettier. Someone younger. Someone who wasn't bogged down by responsibilities. Someone who hadn't shown him the worst of who they could be. Someone whose personality was more contagious than yours. Someone more intelligent and successful. Someone who was everything you weren't.

"Who the hell is that...?" you ask through clenched teeth.

Miguel's hand comes up, covering nearly his entire face as he weakly tries to defend himself. "That was....Felicia..."

Felicia. Of fucking course. Here we go again...You hadn't worried about her since the last argument you two had over Christmas when Miguel foolishly decided to throw it in your face that she was more pleasant to be around as a mindless way to hurt you in that moment.

The tiniest seed of insecurity planted that would cause you to spiral with overthinking whenever her name was mentioned, even when you knew she really had a thing for Ben and Miguel put in work to reassure you of the fact that you were still the sole apple of his eye. Miguel had probably just reset whatever progress you two made since then ten steps backwards.

He frantically tries to save himself on the phone but you're already checking out as we speak. "But Ben's here too! Ben's here, too! Babe! We were on Earth-5129, we've been stuck on missions that take all day. Their Sinister Six has been causing all sorts of problems. I'm not alone with anyone, baby, I swear to God. I just got carried away with work-"

"Oh, oh you got carried away alright..." Your tears are hot and salty streaks on your cheeks. "The kids and I will be staying at my mom's. Have fun on your little mission."

"Baby don't hang up I swear to God-..."

You hang up and set your phone down on the ground, crouching down so your head is in your hands and you're squatting in a near fetal position, not moving much except your shoulders gently shaking, causing you to try and rock in a soothing motion as you sob uncontrollably.

You cry and cry. You cry for yourself. You cry at the fact that you feel like a single married mother. You cry because you're frustrated you're not good enough at math to help Marcus with his homework. You cry at the memory of Gabi's disappointed, sad face when she had to give her presentation without her favorite person there to watch. You cry about your body and how you haven't felt beautiful lately, that unkind, irrational thought that perhaps if you were prettier, then Miguel would pay more attention.

You cry about not having enough time in the day to do the things you want to do and how motherhood literally has no breaks to just let you breathe. You cry about Miguel and how this marriage at times feels harder than it should be, wondering what happened to the man you married and just wanting him back.

After several minutes, you just sit and stare at the slightly overcast morning, the cold slowly announcing its presence, your emotions and stress had rendered you insensitive to its chill for most of the time you were out there. You tug your fingers into the sleeves of your pajamas and waddle back inside, pausing at the main floor bathroom. You make sure there is no evidence of tears before you get your kids ready for another day, determined to at least make their Valentine's Day magical even if yours was already off to a shit start. Emotions can wait, motherhood doesn't stop.

----

Later that night, Gabi and Marcus are passed out in the guest bedroom at your mom's, sugar high worn off once again, and little Anthony is snoozing peacefully in your mom's lap. She quietly rocks him in the recliner in her living room, her nose buried in a book.

She hears Miguel enter quietly, and she looks up. Disapproval obvious in her expression as she bookmarks her spot.

You didn't tell her you and Miguel were fighting, but she knows her daughter well enough to know something was wrong, and he was the cause.

Miguel greets her in a hushed tone so as to not wake Anthony. "Thank you for watching the kids tonight..."

Your mom acknowledges with a curt nod of her head. Miguel sits down. Before he can speak, your mom interrupts. "She's at the hotel..." She pauses, letting Miguel absorb the information. "She wouldn't tell me the truth, but I know my daughter well enough to know she's hurt."

Miguel takes a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair. "Yeah... I messed up big time."

Your mom continues, "All the kids are asleep. If I were you, I'd go fix it..." She takes a deep breath of her own, Anthony stirs a little. "I love you like a son, Miguel. But, I'm gonna say this nicely: you work too much. One day, before you know it, these sweet kids are gonna be all grown up, and you and your wife won't even know what to talk about anymore because you never made your marriage a priority."

Miguel nods slowly, taking in her words.

"Don't become strangers in your marriage like I did." Your mom says, looking sincerely into Miguel's eyes. It clicks for Miguel at last, and he knows what he needs to do. He just prays that you'll even let him get close enough to let you hear him out.

Miguel gives your mom a warm smile of appreciation and a stroke to Anthony's hair before he ventures out into the February air, off to go win your heart back once again.

----

You're curled up in the king sized bed in the executive suite of one of the fanciest hotels nearby. You and Miguel stayed there the night before you eloped, and it was your first time staying there since. You would have cancelled the room altogether, but it was too late by the time Miguel messed up, so you figured you'd enjoy it, even if you had to do it alone, dammit. If you were going to cry, then at least you'd be doing it while wearing the hotel's fancy bathrobe on the top floor with chocolate covered strawberries and champagne.

You popped one in your mouth to try and distract from your tears that threatened to leak once again as you watched Letters to Juliet on the flat screen TV. You sniffed loudly, and there was a loud booming knock at the door.

You stayed right where you were, having a hunch it was your husband crawling back, biting another chocolate covered strawberry, this time chasing it with a longer sip of champagne.

The knocks get louder and you mutter a "shit" when you hear Miguel start calling your name, his fist relentless against the heavy oak door. You get up cautiously, creeping towards the knocking.

"Abre la puerta, cariño, por favor!!!" (Open the door, dear, please!) Miguel yells. "Stop doing this shit baby, I'M YOUR HUSBAND! TALK TO ME!"

The neighbors across the hall open up their door and start chastising him. Something about "keep it down people are trying to sleep", "this is the first night we've had away in MONTHS", "take your relationship problems outside", to which Miguel loudly hisses it's none of their goddamn business.

You open the door, yank your disheveled, tall ass husband into your room, and slam it in the face of the Karens. Problem solved. You huff and turn around, making your way back to your champagne throne, not saying a word.

Miguel makes a loud sigh, trying to settle from 100 back to 0. "Sweetheart, I'm sorry..." His brown locks are unkempt, a little bit of stubble peppers his chin. His crimson eyes are surrounded by little bloodshot lines. In his hands he has a slightly wilted bouquet of pink roses, one of the last bundles they had available at the grocery store, and in the other, a little pack of caramel Ghirdadellis being held by a tiny stuffed gray hippo.

You take the stuffed animal from Miguel with a neutral expression on your face. "He can stay," you wiggle the hippo in your hand. "But you can't. "

Miguel groans. "Baby, NOTHING happened. I swear on our children."

You raise an eyebrow at the bold statement. "On our children?"

Miguel sits on the edge of the bed, pulling at the hem of your bathrobe. "If I'm lying, let God Himself strike me down where I stand."

"You're sitting," you murmur, unable to resist. Miguel gives an exhausted gasp of laughter.

"You know what I mean..." He says, trying to steer the conversation back on target. "I would NEVER do that to you in a million years. I was an ass, I know. I've been taking too much time at work and I neglected you. I neglected the kids..." He sighs and leans into your chest. You silently wrap your hands around his head, pressing him into you.

Miguel closes his eyes, taking a deep smell of your scent. All of his stress seemingly being tugged out of his head with every moment he stays squished against your heart. He tries to explain, "Ben and Felicia were laughing, that's what you heard on the phone..."

You take a steady intake of breath. "Miguel..."

"Te lo prometo...." (I promise you) He says earnestly, looking up into your eyes from where he's still sitting on the edge of the bed. "Te lo prometo" (I promise you) he repeats for emphasis this time, his voice reducing to a whisper, crimson eyes wide as though his pupils could pull you in and make you see the truth.

"You don't need to explain yourself..." You say, bringing your hands to cup his face. His eyes fluttered closed and he leans into them. When he reopens them, a thin layer of tears is evident.

When Miguel cries, you can't help but cry also. You press your tongue against the back of your teeth, and go back to playing with his hair instead to hold them at bay. "How'd we get like this, baby?..."

That sentence utterly breaks his heart because he's all too aware of his role he's played in being a strain on your marriage by now. This was unlike you two. He's unable to speak but a million thoughts sprint through his head. Life happened. We stopped making each other the priority. Yes, the kids' needs would ultimately trump everything else while they were still very young, but when was it going to be your time again? Instead of going back to the way things were, you'd have to get to know each other again.

Meeting yourselves again as the new people you evolved into, reunited over those tender words you promised each other on wrinkled paper you stole from a printer in a cramped city office building nearly 5 years ago. Your lovely face bore a jittery smile underneath your department store veil, Miguel's expression tender as though he could power a city from the affection on his face alone.

Now, on this late Valentine's Day night , he beckons you to sit next to him, which you do. He lays you backwards, following you and propping himself on his elbow. The shift causes one tear to escape, creeping into your hair. You sniffle, and Miguel looks at you with concern. "Life got in the way again...it's not your fault. It's mine..." He admits shamefully.

You stare at the ceiling, more tears trickling into your hair before you look at Miguel. "Why'd you marry me?"

Miguel gives you a soft smile and answers in a hushed tone. "I decided one day that I didn't want to be without you." He pauses and his smile disappears momentarily, then creeps back up again. "Do you still wanna be without me right now?"

You shake your head. "No...I was mad. But that doesn't mean I really want you to go. I've just missed you, baby... *sigh*.....can we end the night together?"

Miguel's expression liquefies, "Course we can...and tomorrow too, right?" He scoops you even closer. We'll take our time, maybe get breakfast at that diner you love? Take you shopping?...I got a lot to make up for," he chuckles.

You hum, bringing your fingertips against his broad back. "Yes please." You let yourself drown in his hug for several moments, then you say, "We really need to stop fighting and making up on all the major holidays. Hallmark is going to catch wind of it and make a film adaptation, just watch."

Miguel beams, a light snicker from his chest vibrates against your body. "Haha...you're right, baby. Can't keep letting them get away with it..." His hand moves to grip your ass. "I'll wait til St. Patrick's Day to act up instead..."

"Babe. No."

"I'm kidding!"

"No, just, no," you shake your head, trying to wiggle out of his grasp but he holds you firmly down, both hands moving under your robe.

"You're right, my apologies, Mrs...." he croons.

"O'Hara. That's Mrs. O'Hara to you." You prod the tip of his nose.

"Mmm..."

Miguel kisses the sides of your neck, his lips still contain the tiniest bit of chill from the outside. You sigh into it, your sweet sounds of surrender tickling his ears, evolving into a wave of warmth that covers every inch of him, making him tremble for what's happening next.

"Mrs.... O'Hara..." At the sound of his name, he slides two fingers into your pussy. Your lips fall open at the intrusion, a whine bouncing off the walls.

"Shh...." Miguel soothes, his fingers start moving in a circular pattern.

"Fffuck...," your back arches, encouraging him to go deeper. You've reached the point where you're completely vulnerable. Falling apart to your husband's sweet thick fingers.

Miguel kisses the top of your breasts, still coaxing the walls of your pussy. "There she is..."

"I love you so much..." you whine, almost desperate.

His eyes are completely intoxicated by the utter desire leaking out of your body and into his hand. "I love you, sweetheart..." his voice barely above a whisper, as though any noise that escaped him threatened to rip you out of the haze of pleasure you both were currently drowning in.

You lift your chin, capturing his lips in yours. Soft and wet, they move seamlessly as they had nearly thousands of times before. A familiar song and dance you two engaged in, yet seemed to take you to a place that felt brand new each time you did.

"Make love to me..." your murmur buzzes softly against his lips, leaving his breath hanging hot and heavy.

Miguel answers by making his kisses a little harder. Lingering for a second longer, his tongue weaving a little deeper, leaving yours burning for more contact. A steady stream that turned into a faucet. Every bit of you yearns for him. This man you loved so much. And he yearns for the same in return. He'd happily give into you any time.

He praises you as you take his cock. Your eyes closing momentarily to accommodate his size. He traces your lips, letting the bottom one drag down just a little, leaving an opening for his thumb. You suck it greedily, the callouses of his thumb massaging against the ridges of your tongue. You moan as you taste his skin, earning a low grunt from him in return.

"Mi luz(My light).....so, so gorgeous..."

The corners of your lips curve into a smirk as you continue, but you release it when Miguel begins thrusting harder.

"Shit...." Your head presses back against the pillows and Miguel leans closer to you, his soft breaths fanning you, his fingers combing over your hairline as he holds you in place.

"Swear your pussy drives me insane no matter how many times we've fucked..." Miguel groans in a low voice.

You wind your thighs tighter around him, your body on the verge of overstimulation. "Cum in me ... remember? Wanna give you another baby..."

Miguel lets out a moan louder in volume than any of the previous ones. "¿En serio, amor?" (Seriously, love?)

"Please....."

Your bodies intertwined in a knot of passion as he fills you completely with his cum. You hold him tight, intimate moments like these that only the two people occupying the bed would remember. The raw, dirty memory of the night you hopefully conceived your last child with him.

He stays buried inside you, not ready to separate just yet. Letting the afterglow of the passion wash over you both for several more moments.

Soon after, you're enjoying the steam of the shower as you and Miguel take turns washing another, the smacks of your lips together echoing off the tile leading to a wet slap as your hand comes up to steady yourself against the wall as Miguel dives between your thighs once again.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Mrs. O'Hara..."

----

🥰🥺

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woso-dreamzzz · 6 months

Text

Mornings

Fridolina Rolfö x Reader

Summary: Early mornings with Frido

The sun seeped in through the blinds and you groaned in outrage.

"Frido," You huffed.

There was no answer.

"Frido," You said again," Close the blinds. It's too early."

Your wife didn't answer you and you blindly patted her side of the bed before coming up empty. You didn't particularly want to get up out of your cocoon of warmth but you did, peering around the room.

The blinds were fully open and you groaned loudly, flopping your head back down onto your pillow again.

"Frido," You grumbled under your breath, finally getting up. You snagged the blanket hanging over your desk chair and swung it over your shoulders. "Frido!"

Your wife stood barefoot in the kitchen, head tilted back and throat bobbing as she drained a glass of water. She looked sweaty with her hair plastered against her forehead. In any other circumstance, you would have jumped her but you were still kind of tired and very pissed off.

"Is something wrong?"

You glared at her. "I don't know, is there? Because I woke up to not only an empty bed but also to the blinds being open. It's-" You checked the time on the microwave. "It's six thirty in the morning! What have you been doing?!"

"I went on a run."

"This early? Frido, you left the blinds open again!"

"Sorry, baby."

She didn't look very sorry, smirking at you as she stripped off her sweaty shirt and stood in front of you in her sports bra.

"I know what you're doing."

"What am I doing?"

You waved a hand in the general direction of her stomach. "You're trying to distract me with your abs," You replied," It's not working."

She grinned at you - all cocky and sure of herself. "Are you sure?"

"It's too early for you to pull the get-out-of-jail-free card." You continued to glare but patted her abs for good measure as you scooted past her to the living room, collapsing on the sofa.

"Oh, yeah? What can I do to make it up for you?"

"Close the blinds," You said, settling on the sofa and pulling your blanket closer. You aimlessly flicked through the tv channels. "And make me breakfast."

Frido rolled her eyes. "That's not a nice way to say 'get in the kitchen, woman'. You're setting feminism back decades."

"Well, maybe if my wife didn't choose to get up to run at stupid o'clock then I wouldn't have to send her to the kitchen to get back in my good books."

Frido laughed. "Fine, baby. Anything specific?"

"Pancakes." You finally settled on a show. "With cream and strawberries."

"Alright, your highness," She joked," Coming right up."

To her credit, the pancakes were made quickly and she even put on a load of laundry without having to be asked before joining you on the sofa.

Graciously, you gave her some of your blanket.

"It's too early," You groaned, head falling back to rest on her shoulder," Why did you think running so early was a good idea?"

She laughed, jostling you slightly. "To be fair, I didn't expect you to wake up while I was gone."

"With the blinds open and your side of the bed cold?" You said," Sometimes I wish you used those critical thinking skills of yours."

"Hey! I just made you pancakes! Besides, the blinds are closed now."

"It doesn't change the fact that it's stupidly early. You're lucky we have today off or no amount of laundry or housework would put you back in my good books."

Frido smirked at you, turning her head to capture your lips with her own. "Then I am so glad we've got today off."

#woso x reader #fridolina rolfö x reader #fridolina rolfö #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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alespov · 9 months

Text

thinking about older neighbor Leon 18+

{ tw; jealous Leon, age gap! terrible boyfriend objects being thrown, and mention of Leon getting into a fight. gn! reader, use of nickname 'princess" }

-Leon the retired D.S.O agent in need of a purpose in life, but he doesn't want to enter the agent life again. So what does he do, he opens up a mechanic shop. In the middle of a small town.

-He moved to a small suburb where he met you. His younger neighbor who at the time was having car troubles, and he wasn't one to pry but it also seemed you were having relationship issues as well.

-When he wasn't busy on a Wednesday afternoon, he made time to fix your car, while he was fixing your car. After a while he regularly started doing maintenance for your car,he didn't want you to get taken advantage of by other car mechanics. Leon had your best interest in mind. Sometimes you brought him an array of beverages and homemade desserts, as a sign of your gratitude.

-As time went on, Leon made sure to help you with other tasks. For instance, he cleaned your pool, cleaned your gutters, or helped you rake your leaves. Tom wasn't going to help you do it, Leon didn't like Tom. He had always thought Tom was more concerned about his phone than his girlfriend.

-Tom would often complain about Leon helping you so much, that you hardly paid Tom any attention. Simply because he always wanted to start a fight, Tom wouldn't do any housework or be affectionate with you. One night Tom was complaining about everything, he started to yell at you and throw stuff around the house.

You and him started arguing louder and this finally caught Leon's attention. "What's your problem, all you do is hang around with that stupid blonde idiot other there." He yelled at you, trying to intimate you. "What's my problem? My problem is you wouldn't pay any mind to me, so stop treating me like an option or you'll see how many I have". you wailed

-Tom stormed out of the house quickly, and you fell to the floor sobbing, you did truly love Tom. As of right now, you weren't so sure, all you wanted was some attention. You felt comforting arms wrap themselves tightly around you and heard sweet-nothings being sung into your ear.

-"Don't pay him any mind, he doesn't deserve you." Leon mumbed into your ear. He took off his coat wrapped it around you snugly, and carried you to his house. He sat you down on the chair so he could open the door. He picked you back up carried you up the stairs placed you in his bed, and pulled his covers on you.

"Stay right here princess, I'll take care of Tom for you."

-You didn't look over at the clock, but at some point, you drifted off to sleep. Until you heard the birds chirping and Leon moving downstairs. You got up and walked quietly down the stairs and tried to find the kitchen or wherever Leon was.

-"Oh good, you're finally up." You turned to your right and Leon was sitting in on the couch. you giggled softly and made your way to him, you hugged him and held on for a bit. You felt his strong arms wrap around and pull you closer."

"Thank you for coming to my rescue." you mumbled to him.

-You let him go and noticed his hands, were bruised. You didn't ask about it, You already had an idea of what he did.

-After that night, Tom never bothered you again, Honestly you never saw him around town or anywhere. Time flew by and you Leon got closer and eventually began dating. You were happier in this relationship, Leon worshiped you. He made you sure you were loved, he made sure he listened to you.

-So yeah you were glad you fell for your older neighbor.

| also accepting requests for Leon and Wesker|

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allthingsfangirl101 · 1 month

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Extreme Proof – Steve Harrington

Tumblr Request by theamunsonsworld

My heart sank into my stomach when I looked up and saw Nancy Wheeler walking up to the ice cream counter. My stomach turned when I realized that it was Steve's turn at the cash register. I couldn't help but watch their interaction. They seemed. . . Perfect.

Steve and Nancy always seemed perfect. His smile was different. His laugh was different. His whole demeanor and attitude were different when he was around his ex-girlfriend. And I couldn't help but wonder why he settled for me.

I knew Steve and Nancy when they were dating. Well, I didn't know them know them. I grew up with them. I was in the same grade as Nancy and lived next to Steve and his parents. After they broke up, I could instantly tell that it had a bigger effect on Steve than it did on Nancy. She quickly moved on. He didn't.

Later that year, I started working at the ice cream shop within the new mall. I ended up being trained with Robin. Two months later, I trained Steve. It took him almost a week to recognize me as his neighbor. Once he made that connection, he put more of an effort into being nice to me. It wasn't until one night when the three of us got high while pretending to complete inventory that things finally escalated between us.

~ • ~

"Are you sure we should be doing this?" Robin giggled. Her laughter made Steve and I laugh.

"Probably not," he shrugged.

"Definitely not," I corrected. "But who cares?!"

All three of us started laughing harder. All of a sudden, Robin jumped up and ran into the other room complaining about being hungry. I looked over at Steve, both of our laughter stopping. I cleared my throat and turned away from him, taking a puff. Without looking at him, I handed the blunt to him. He took it but didn't let go of my hand.

"I'm really sorry, Y/N," he whispered.

"For what?" I asked, forgetting why I wasn't looking at him.

"For forgetting you," he explained, his voice still soft.

"Steve," I sighed, finally pulling my hand out of his.

"Y/N," he quickly said, stopping me from walking away. "We spent our entire childhoods living right next to each other. I constantly looked over."

"You did?" I said, even though I had told myself not to respond.

"Every time I looked over at you, you guys always looked so happy," he said, maintaining perfect eye contact. "You ate dinner together. You watched movies together. Your dad helped you with your homework. You spent every weekend helping your dad with yard work and helping your mom with housework. I was so jealous."

"Why?"

"You guys did everything as a family," he said. "And all I wanted was to be a part of it."

"A part of it?" I repeated. "Why would you want to be a part of my. . ."

Steve leaned over and cut me off by pressing his lips to mine. My mind was too cloudy for me to make any sense of this. So, instead of making sense of it, I gave in. I started kissing him back and things slowly escalated. We probably would've gone the whole way if Robin hadn't literally fallen into the room.

~ • ~

After that night, I didn't work the weekend. Another teenager asked for extra hours and I gave up mine. Monday, when I finally went back to work, I walked in and instantly made eye contact with Steve. Before either one of us was forced to fill the awkward silence, I went to the back room and found my name tag. I turned around and was about to walk back out when I suddenly wasn't alone.

~ • ~

"Steve," I gasped. "I was just. . ."

He cut me off by grabbing my hands and pulling me closer. "I think we need to talk."

"We really. . ."

He cut me off again by pressing his lips to mine. I was clear-headed and still didn't hesitate to kiss him back. As our lips moved in sync, I let out a small chuckle. My laugh made Steve slowly break the kiss.

"What?" He asked with a small smirk on his face.

"I seem to see a pattern developing," I teased.

"And what pattern is that?" He asked as he wrapped his arms around my waist.

"From what I can remember from last Thursday," I smiled, "you seem to only kiss me when you want me to shut up."

"First of all," he started to list off, "there are worse ways to tell someone to shut up. And second, that's not the only reason I kissed you."

"Really?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Of course it's not," he whispered. "The truth is Y/N, I have feelings for you."

My heart jumped into my throat as Steve stared at me with soft eyes. "You do?" I whispered, not sure what else to say to him. "Since when?"

"Since we were kids," he said simply.

"All that time?" I stuttered. Steve smiled as he reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.

"All that time."

~ • ~

Things changed after that. Steve took me on lunch dates, rearranged his work schedule so we were on the same shift, and even came by the days he didn't work and I did. As good as everything was for us, I couldn't shake this feeling that something was hovering over us. It didn't take long for me to figure out what was hovering over us.

When it got too painful to watch Steve take Nancy's ice cream order, I turned around and instantly grabbed the broom from the storage closet. I kept my back to the counter as I swept the floor. When I was done, I instantly started cleaning tables.

"I thought I was on cleanup duty," Robin said. I didn't dare turn around. I didn't want to watch Steve make Nancy's ice cream sundae. I heard Robin sigh before she grabbed my hand. She took the rag and tossed it onto an empty booth before dragging me to the small lounge we had back behind the counter.

"Talk," she demanded.

"About what?"

"Don't play dumb," she sighed. She lowered her voice as she continued, "I know what you're thinking, Y/N. Steve is not in love with Nancy."

"It's just. . ."

"He's not," she cut me off. "Steve and Nancy happened a long time ago. He's so much happier now, Y/N. Now that he has you."

"I can't help but. . ."

"What?" She pushed me when I didn't continue.

"I can't let go of the feeling that Steve still has feelings for her," I confessed. I looked up and saw Steve and Nancy still talking at the counter. "See?"

Robin turned around and sighed when she saw my boyfriend talking to his ex-girlfriend. "I'm sure you're reading into it," she stuttered. "I mean. . ."

I didn't hear whatever excuse she was struggling to come up with. Instead, I went to the back freezer and started unloading random things. I jumped when two arms wrapped around me.

"You know I love you, Robin," I said, trying to tease, "but not like that."

"Ha ha," Steve laughed sarcastically as he spun me around. His smile faltered when he saw the look on my face. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," I cleared my throat. "Why wouldn't it be?"

I walked away and reached down, picking up a tub of our new flavor that's been selling fast. Steve walked over, gently grabbed it out of my hands, and placed it back on the shelf.

"What's going on, baby?" He asked, his voice lowering to a whisper.

"It's nothing," I stuttered, matching his tone.

"Robin told me."

My stomach dropped. I pulled my hands out of his and instantly wrapped my arms around myself.

"Baby," he sighed, gently grabbing my arms and pulling me closer. "We've talked about this. There is nothing between me and Nancy anymore."

He started to lean in to kiss me, but I gently stopped him. "We should get back to work," I said softly. I started walking out of the freezer, but he grabbed my wrist.

"No," he said firmly. "Y/N, we need to talk about this. We have talked about this. I know you think you aren't good enough for me, but, baby, you need to get passed those insecurities."

"Get passed them," I scoffed, stepping away from him. "Like it's so easy. Tell me, Steve, how easy was it for you to get past your insecurities with high school and being known as Steve "the Hair" Harrington? Not so easy, huh?"

"That's not fair," he sighed.

"You don't get it," I said, my voice breaking. "Nancy. . . She's. . . Nancy Wheeler is everything that I'm not."

"Except for one thing," Steve quickly interjected. "She isn't the girl I want to be with. She's not you, Y/N. And I want to be with you."

"You have to try to understand, Steve. This isn't easy for me. I mean. . . I've never had a serious boyfriend before and. . . Seeing you with her. . . It's not easy on me, okay? It just. . ."

"What?" He asked a little too harshly. "Try and explain it to me, Y/N."

"I can't," I whispered. "And if you can't understand it then. . ."

"Then what?" He sighed, clearly losing his patience with me.

"Then maybe we shouldn't be together."

Before he could agree with me or fight for me, I turned on my heels and ran. I ran out of the ice cream shop, out of the mall. When I got outside, I stopped for a brief second and let out a small scoff.

It was raining.

"Of course," I mumbled. I looked around, my eyes landing on the payphone. I ran through the rain toward the payphone. I grabbed some coins out of my pocket and called my brother.

"Speak!" He answered.

"Eddie," I said, my voice breaking.

"What happened?" His whole demeanor changed. "Y/N, what's wrong?"

"I think. . . I think Steve and I just broke up."

"What?!" I covered my mouth to muffle my sob as Eddie continued to angrily mumble. "I swear I am going to. . . It'll be the last thing. . . I'm gonna kill. . . Wait, what happened?"

"Nancy came into the shop today," I said, my voice shaky.

"Y/N," Eddie sighed. "Steve is not still in love with Nancy. It's all in your head."

"But you didn't see them together, Ed," I instantly defended myself.

"Look," he said gently, "I know you've had your issues with your self-confidence and with constantly comparing yourself to Nancy Wheeler, but, you gotta stop. It doesn't matter that Steve and Nancy used to have a thing. He's not with her anymore."

"He's with me," I cut him off. "I know. I know. But it's not like it was his choice."

"What are you talking about?"

"She broke up with him, Eddie," I said, my voice dropping.

"So?"

"That doesn't mean he stopped loving her."

"Y/N," he sighed. "I believe Steve when he says he doesn't love Nancy anymore. Why don't you?"

"Because why would he want me?" I yelled, finally letting out all my insecurities and frustrations. "I'm boring, Eddie. I don't have any friends. All I do is go to school, come home, do my homework, and go to bed a 9. Why would Steve "the Hair" Harrington fall for someone as boring as me? I'm not smart. I'm not funny. I'm not beautiful. I'm not enough for him, Eddie. Why does no one else understand this?!"

I slammed the phone back onto its receiver and turned around. Usually, Steve takes me home from work, but I had to get out of here. I saw the bus at the bus stop and instantly started running towards it in hopes of catching it.

One minute I was running through the rain. The next, I was falling. As I landed, I hit my head hard. I tried to think. I tried to sit up. I tried to move, but it was like I was frozen. Soon, the world started to spin. It wasn't long before the darkness took over. But right before it did, I thought I heard someone yell my name.

"Y/N?!"

* * * * *

I woke up a little while later being warmer than I was when I first fell asleep.

"I told you, Eddie," I heard my Uncle Wayne sigh, "she hit her head pretty hard. She may be out for a couple of more hours."

"She's awake," I heard Steve say with a small chuckle.

"How do you. . ." Eddie didn't finish his question when he turned around and saw me watching them. I was back in my room and the three of them were standing in the doorway.

I smiled when Eddie ran to my side. He was already sitting next to me and holding my hand by the time Uncle Wayne walked into my room.

"How are you feeling, kiddo?" He asked me.

"Okay," I shrugged. "I think. I mean. . . I'm a little confused."

"You slipped," Steve said, his voice softer than normal.

"What?" I stuttered.

"You were running toward the bus," Steve explained as he slowly walked into my room. "With the rain and the puddles, you slipped. I walked out of the mall right as you fell. I ran over to you, but you were barely conscious."

"Oh," I said under my breath. Suddenly, a thick tension fell between the two of us. If it wasn't for that tension, I would've laughed when Uncle Wayne hit Eddie's arm.

"We'll give you two some privacy," he said as he practically dragged Eddie out of my room. As soon as it was just us two, Steve sat on the edge of my bed.

"We need to talk about this," he said softly. "I can't stand the idea of you thinking you're not good enough for me."

"I just. . ."

"Please," he gently cut me off. "I need to say some things and I need you to hear them, okay? You are enough for me, Y/N. You are the perfect girl for me. I know you struggle with my and Nancy's friendship. If I could make it better for you, I would. The only way I can start to make it better is to tell you that I am completely, one hundred percent over Nancy Wheeler. I am also completely, one hundred percent into you. I don't know why you think you're not enough for me, but you are. You are enough, baby. No one is better for me. You make me extremely happy. You make it so I don't have to be fake. If I'm not happy, you know it. If I'm struggling, you know what to do to help me. I promise, Y/N, there is nothing between me and Nancy. Not anymore. Not ever again. I haven't had feelings for her for a long time. You make me happy. There is no one in this world I would rather be with than you."

With tears streaming down my cheeks, I grabbed his face and pressed my lips to his. He instantly wrapped his arms around me and kissed me back. Every insecurity, every worry, disappeared as we kissed. Steve broke the kiss, both of us breathing heavily.

"I don't just want you," he whispered. "I love you."

"I love you too," I said, my voice breaking. My smile fell as I continued, "I'm really sorry, Steve. I never should've. . . I shouldn't. . . I was wrong. I should've believed you when you kept telling me you were over her."

"It's okay," he soothed. "But next time, promise me that you'll talk to me if you ever feel something like that again. Please, baby. Promise me."

"I promise."

Steve smiled as I pulled him toward me and laid down. That night, I fell asleep with Steve's arms wrapped tightly around me.

#steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #requested imagine #joe keery #joe keery request #steve harrington request

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songmingisthighs · 3 months

Text

Pitiful, You're Pitiful

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ch. ii

group : ateez

pairing : aged up!wooyoung × aged up!reader

genre : angst, mature

word count : 3 k

warning : adultery, cheating, medical condition (?), mentions of loss/miscarriage, negative depiction of wooyoung

a/n : happy valentine's <3

It had been two months since the night you were intimate with Wooyoung and it was still suffocating to think about.

It hurts a lot actually. But you can't let your sadness take over you, especially when Wooyoung hasn't shown any concrete signs that you should be worried other than your feelings. So you kept it to yourself, you kept your anxiety in and with every trip and team dinner or client meeting, you convinced yourself that he was doing what he said he was doing no matter how nauseated it made you feel. The stress must've gotten to you badly because the nausea was starting to become unbearable and even made you vomit almost every day. You figured it was psychosomatic but since it had affected your housework (aka Wooyoung complaining that you were up late several times, Dayoung grumbling under her breath about you not even caring to make her breakfast, and Woohyun refusing to go to kindergarten because he was worried over you).

Today started quite roughly.

"MOM!"

You barely held onto the countertop of your sink when you heard your daughter huffing from the other side of the door. The pain in your head and the discomfort from your stomach made your body sway slightly and the second round of angry knocks felt like a hammer to your head.

"Mom, seriously, I'm gonna be late!" Dayoung sighed sharply. You could just imagine the look on her face and while you love your children to bits, the way your body was practically shutting down on you, it felt like you wanted to scream back at her to give you a break. But you kept reminding yourself that you're the parent, she's an angsty teenager and you can't create a hostile environment for your youngest.

By whatever force that was working in your favour, you managed to walk yourself to the door and though your hands were cold, clammy, and trembling, you were able to open the door to see your daughter glaring at you. "S-sorry sweetie, mommy's not feeling well right now," you sighed, wiping the cold sweat off your forehead with your palm.

Dayoung hated the way you referred to yourself as if she was still a child or something and she let you know her disdain with a scoff and a roll of her eyes. "If you were so against me taking the bus in the morning, you could've at least made an effort to be punctual. I had to dress Woohyun, you know that? He and his milk-drenched chin almost ruined my cardigan and uniform. How is it that I'm doing things you're supposed to? Couldn't you have gotten drunk during the weekends or something?" she sneered, oblivious that it had been a while since you touched alcohol because when you tried to have a glass the week before, you ended up throwing up for some reason. The throbbing was coming back along with annoyance and you couldn't help the sharp exhale that you let out, "Can you not be like this right now? You being disrespectful won't make me move any faster." At least Dayoung had the decency to shut her mouth but from the corner of your eyes, you could see her fists clenching. "Where's your dad anyways? He knew I was not feeling well, he could've taken you and Woohyun to school." Although you were sighing and struggling to move without keeling over, you still forced your body to cooperate, determined to prioritize your motherly duties above letting sickness take over you completely. Dayoung only leaned on the wall while texting her friend, completely aware that you had almost fallen over a couple of times as you changed into your jeans, "I don't know, Daddy seemed to be in a rush this morning. He went out like an hour earlier than usual, humming and mumbling something about meeting someone for coffee before going to the academy."

The lighthearted tone Dayoung used didn't hide the heaviness of those words. You had been rather preoccupied as a mom to really follow up on your instinct so when you heard that, you felt a chill down your spine. For a moment, you couldn't help but wonder what or why you felt like that. As quick as that doubt came, you brushed the thought away as you grabbed your bag, rushed your children out the door, and loaded them into your car.

Being a parent was truly a wonder because for a moment, while focusing on your children, you felt like your body was mending itself. The headache was gone, your joints were not achy, and the bloated feeling in your stomach was relieved. Maybe it was stress, a psychosomatic symptom because you had a feeling that something was wrong with Wooyoung and because nothing did, your body directed the feeling towards your health. It's possible, the body is mysterious and things that make almost 0 sense can happen in a blink of an eye.

But once you found yourself all alone after taking Woohyun to his class, you slumped against the side of your car, clutching your head as the pain suddenly returned all at once. It was then and there that you realized that something was going on with you and you needed to get it checked out immediately.

On the way to the hospital, your mind was at war. It was plagued with scary scenarios like cancer one moment before the logical side of your brain reasoned that it could be something as simple as indigestion, acid reflux or even stomach flu. The anxiety didn't die down and you thought that at moments like this, you needed your partner, you needed your husband. Your husband who in the past had gone above and beyond to nurse you back to health even when it was just your allergy acting up. It was ironic that as you smiled and reminisced about the things your husband did for you in the past, your phone let out a long dial tone that let you know that you couldn't reach your husband for the 5th time. The anxiety bubbled up at the pit of your stomach as your fear went on automation, immediately associating Wooyoung not accepting your calls as a bad omen. One by one, your brain started ticking off possibilities such as stomach cancer, bowel obstruction, and kidney problems. Then your daughter's jabs started popping in your head, her jabs about how you drink a lot. It wasn't like you get drunk on wine twice a week like a ritual but it was never like that. You do enjoy the occasional glass but even then, it was slightly less than the amount people usually pour and it never surpassed you feeling tingly. But maybe you had accidentally subconsciously increased your intake and what you were experiencing was liver failure.

Out of all the diagnoses you were fearing, you honestly weren't expecting the doctor to tell you that you were pregnant.

As embarrassing as it was to admit, the moment the doctor revealed the diagnosis, it was like a punch to the gut and you vomited all over the ER floor. On the plus side, you no longer feel bloated.

"I can't be pregnant, there's no way. I haven't been intimate with my husband in a long while," you said after gulping down the water one of the nurses brought for you. "Blood tests are rarely wrong, ma'am," the doctor pulled her stool closer to you and sat down to look at you straight in the eyes, "When was the last time you were intimate with your husband?" It was both easy and hard for you to remember the last time you had sex with Wooyoung. You couldn't even call it making love because it wasn't. He fucked you to shut you up and left you alone like a washed-up carcass. The urge to scream and go crazy was high as it seemed like such a joke to get pregnant from that one time.

You wanted to laugh, scream, cry at how ironic the situation was. How when you tried so hard to grow your family with your husband, you were met with heartbreak. But now that things were verging on collapsing, you were suddenly blessed with a person you didn't even know you'd been waiting for. But your brain hadn't caught up to that point, still in disbelief and maybe even shock.

The doctor's voice was merely a murmur at that point. You couldn't focus, you couldn't really comprehend what she was saying because you were so deep in your thoughts, your bitter thoughts of the situation. You were worried because after what happened to your last pregnancy, it took you a long while to be okay again. There was even a period of time when Wooyoung was the only functioning parent, taking care of the role of both mom and dad while you recuperate. Of course, you weren't expecting to lose this pregnancy too. Who would do that? But the fear existed, the fear remained a part of you and as much as you want to shed it, it was so hard.

Nevertheless, you couldn't help but let your mind wander and suddenly flicker into hope. Hope that this baby will bring your husband back, bring him back to the way he was before the loss you both experienced. Hoping that his distance was because he was also waiting for this same little stranger.

"Hey, (y/n)!"

You turned around and saw Yunho jogging towards you, huffing.

When did you get out of the ER? You felt a buzz in your hand from your phone and frowned when you saw the message. When did you make an OB appointment?

Whatever the answer was, you immediately tried to shove your worries away and put on a smile, trying to appear normal or somewhat okay in front of your husband's friend.

Before you could greet him back, however, he cut you off, "I came as soon as I heard," he panted. "What?" you chuckled awkwardly, not understanding what he meant but slightly worried because you had thought someone saw you in the ER and heard what you and the doctor were talking about and informed other people. "How's Wooyoung? Was it really a heart attack? I heard he hit his head or something. Which room is he in?" It felt like you were the one who hit their head because you had no idea what Yunho was saying. You waved your hands in front of Yunho's face to stop his rants, "Whoah, Yunho, what are you talking about?" Now it was Yunho's turn to be confused. "I-I was informed by the academy's front desk that Wooyoung got hurt. They said they called Wooyoung in because he missed his special trainee class and they got information that he was hurt and that he was admitted here so I thought that he was with you."

In a flash, you turned and dashed to the information desk, Yunho hot on your tail. the both of you stayed close as you go up to the room Wooyoung was admitted in, worry evident in the way you both looked but it was definitely more prominent on you.

Once on the floor, you ran out first to the nurse's station before Yunho could even register that the elevator door had opened. Your hands accidentally slammed loudly on the hard surface of the counter, making Yunho and the nurses in the station to jump slightly in shock, "Hi, I-I'm looking for Jung Wooyoung, he was just admitted not too long ago," you were on the verge of crying because you were so worried and you felt and that you didn't even know your husband got hurt. The nurse checked her computer for a second before looking back at you, "He is on this floor but I'm afraid I can't let you visit him just yet. His wife is in there with him and considering the situation, we were instructed to let him get his rest first. Visitors are permitted once Mr Jung's doctor clears him and you will be notified by his wife." Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and so did Yunho at the revelation, "That... That can't be right, I'm his wife," you said, surprising the nurse. She produced a guest sign-in form on a clipboard and muttered to herself, "I- well, there was this lady who came in with him and she told the doctor that they were in their bedroom when Mr Jung had the accident. She mentioned- I- I think she mentioned that she was his partner, s-so I just assumed she was his wife because of the ring on his finger," she meekly showed you the signature on the clipboard but it looked unfamiliar.

"Yeon Harin? That's our backup dancer," Yunho scoffed from behind you, "What's she doing here with Wooyoung?"

Dread washed over you like the water from a river in winter. The look on your face was enough to let not only the nurse who talked to you but the other nurses around know what was going on. Guilt gnawed at them when they saw your face paled and eyes glazed over as if they were the ones who committed such betrayal towards you. However, it took Yunho a moment to realize. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes lingered on the name as his brain replayed the information he received. Dots connecting one by one, Yunho felt like he was being punched in the gut. "Oh fuck," he cussed under his breath, realizing what just happened. Realizing what his revelation of the identity did, "(y/n), a-"

Before he could ask if you were alright, you had pushed yourself away from the station, eye unfocused as if searching for a way to escape. "I... T-thank you... C-can, uh... Can I come back later with my hus- Wooyoung's things? W-what time is the cutoff time for visitors?" You did not notice it but your voice trembled, breaking slightly even as you tried communicating with the nurses in a voice so small, that they had to not breathe to hear you clearly. It was obvious that you were trying to hold yourself together, but it was also probably because you were processing the information. The head nurse pushed past from the back of the station and addressed you directly with a gentle, motherly smile, it was a shame you didn't see it. "Cut-off time is in 2 hours which will be at 12 pm and it will reopen at 6-8 pm. But for family members, there isn't really a cut-off time, I'll make sure Mr Jung's visitor is out of his room soon," at least someone had the decency to do what's right.

You didn't even remember if you told the nurses thank you because when your senses returned, you found yourself already walking back towards the elevator. "(y/n)? Hey, are you okay?" Yunho called out, making his presence and proximity obvious to you. You wanted to tell him that you were fine, but how could you? Your assumption was just confirmed in such a public place in a situation the same hour you found out you were pregnant in the same place you found out that your husband was hurt and you weren't there for him. Although his side piece was there and considering that he was with her when he was supposed to be at a very important class due to the account and his own ownership of account management, he must've prioritized her presence more. Yunho didn't press you for a reply though, he just wanted to make sure you were okay, he wanted to make sure he could give you what you needed which was tricky since he had no idea what to do. He too, was still processing the information and trying to make sense of things. Was his assumption even correct? Was his friend really that much of a monster? So when you hopped in the elevator, Yunho didn't know if he was supposed to let you go by yourself or jump in and drive you home. Were you even going home? Why were you even there if you didn't even know that Wooyoung was admitted?

When you finally spared Yunho a glance, the door was starting to close and with a smile that haunted him for weeks, you spoke, "Don't tell Wooyoung about this, okay?" and the door closed, leaving Yunho worried and conflicted because all he wanted to do was go into Wooyoung's room and demand an explanation but with what you said, he couldn't. Could he?

When you heard the door closed, your body slumped to the wall and you felt your legs turn to jelly. Your intuition was right, he was being unfaithful and his timing, as always, was just perfect because the day you found out the truth just had to be the same day you found out that you were pregnant with the baby he fucked into you so coldly. A wave of nausea bubbled up in your stomach and your chest burned. The moment the door of the elevator opened, you ran out and your legs took you to the parking lot where you vomited out the bile that was probably the physical form of your feeling. Though the pressure was relieved, you could still feel the sting and burn in your throat, the bitterness in your tongue, and the dread washing over you.

Hunched over the bushes, you found it hard to straighten up and walk. At that moment, you want everything to stop because it was too much, it was too much for you to bear to bear alone.

Mere realization was not enough because you were in denial, you wanted to believe that it was just a dream, that you were hallucinating, that your husband was not the asshole but you were for wanting him to be a monster so much that your brain had somehow warped reality and created this scenario for you to hold onto.

Honestly, you didn't know what to process first.

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wonbin-truther · 2 months

Text

i will

bf! mark x reader - 715 words

hurt/comfort , non idol au

"its always you" mark whispers, hands cupping your cheeks as if you were made of glass as tears fell from his eyes.

it seemed like everything had been going wrong recently. your car had broken down, you misplaced your house keys, you and your best friend got into an argument, and other things that had been building up as the days continued. you could feel yourself slipping into the dark hole you had once pulled yourself out of by the skin of your teeth.

everything boiled over today. first you overslept, curled up in your boyfriends arms so comfortably you missed all your alarms. you showed up to class 15 min late, causing the professor to kick you out. next, you had studied weeks for an exam worth 75% of your grade and failed it horribly. the final thing was your car breaking down for the 3rd time, leaving you to walk back to your small apartment.

you could already feel tears picking your eyes as you kicked off your shoes and collapsed onto the couch. the pounding headache making it hard to gain the strength to get up and finish the housework and classwork that had to get done. you sighed, pushing yourself up to take care of the pilled up responsibilities.

at some point into your now 4 hour studying session your boyfriend mark let himself into your place. "hey babe?" his voice rang through the silence. you didnt respond, focused on the math problem that had your head in your hands. you heard the footsteps get louder as he found his way to your room, pushing open the door. he walked over to your place at the desk and kissed the top of your head. he knew better to interrupt when you were focused.

it had now been 7 hours since you started studying. mark noted how you havent moved from that position despite him trying to get you to eat and drink water for the last 3 hours he was there. he stood up from your bed, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pressing a kiss to your temple.

"babe dont you think its time for a break"

"not now"

"lets just get dinner quickly"

everything was starting to bubble over and you could feel the stress getting to you. without thinking you yelled out, "jesus fucking christ mark leave me alone!" you didnt have time to realize what you said until mark let go of you, walking out the door wordlessly. you let the tears fall down your face as you buried your face in your hands. to add on top of the shitty weak, you can put losing your boyfriend.

little did you know mark hadn't gone very far, standing just outside your room so he could take a breather. he heard your muffled sobs and spun on his heel, pushing open your door and making his way to your shaking figure. he turned your chair around so that he had room to kneel in front of you, moving your hands out of your face so he could get a better look at you. you stared at him through wet eyelashes and jumped to hug him, knocking him to the floor and burying your face in his shoulder as you sobbed harder.

he held you close, rubbing circles into your back.

"my love its okay. what happened?" he spoke softly, holding you as close to himself as he could.

"i dont deserve you," he made out between your sobs.

"what do you mean?"

"you're too good for me. i dont deserve it"

his heart broke into a million pieces as he felt tears prick his eyes. he pulled you away from his shoulder, cupping your face in his hands. he left kisses all over your face, making you scrunch your nose and let out a small giggle as he continued to pepper them around your face. as he pulled away, you caught a tear slip down his cheek.

"why are you crying?" you stared at him, placing your hands over his.

"i hate when you cry. you deserve more than the universe could ever give you. it'll always be you my pretty girl," he left a gentle kiss on your lips and you happily kissed back. he pulled away and rubbed the stray tears from your cheeks.

"cuddle and watch a movie?" you asked

"whatever my girl wants to do"

a/n not proofread so idk if theres mistakes here 😭

#mark lee #mark #nct dream imagines #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 imagines #mark lee nct #mark lee nct 127 #mark lee nct dream #nct x reader #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct dream x reader #nct dream #nct 127 #nct

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lychniis · 9 months

Text

⚘ — TELL ME WE'RE NOT STILL HOLLOW.

i. SYNOPSIS : years ago they made a vow to you. now they ponder it, as time runs its course and as new stars wink into existence and old ones die out. or in which, they recall their marriage with you, as they seek their comfort . ( blade / jing yuan x reader )

ii. WARNING(S) : angst / fluff / comfort, spoilers to blade's backstrory alongside heavy speculation because hoo boy hoyo sure is taking its time. written pre 1.3 where dan heng's backstory will be fully cleared up, spoilers for blade's true name and the final battle of 1.2. written for @mikacynth's summer santa event, as a gift for @genshinimpactzpsff. NOT PROOFREAD.

# masterlist

&& . blade | yingxing · ( what are these memories ; held in a box )

I. GENTLY DOES HE HOLD THAT BOX, a singular, worn old thing whose wood steadily gives into rot and the weight of lost memories. Blade remembers too little of who he once was and he forgets what he does recall when his chest is borne open to his raw, beating heart. But the hairpin in hand is deceitful in its make. Plain iron and wood imbued and drenched in fleeting whispers that beckon him to old times.

( “Yingxing!” it calls, soft, urgent, hypnotic.)

He remembers how it adorned your hair in a way where it glowed as the sun caught it ( and you glowed too, like the fires of the hearth, like iron spiderwebbed with cracks of gold ). He remembers the chai being whole, he holding one half of that heart and you, the other. He remembers that promise, that unposken agreement, that look in your eyes when you pressed it into his palms.

Come back to me.

It was an insistent thing, and it carried over, even as his mind fragmented and Yingxing, your Yingxing, was torn apart and scattered to the cosmic wind. Blade wonders why he still lets you linger when all he knew were the spinning of battles and the icy touch of death. He despises the longing it brings, the feelings it unearths, the demons it sets loose that cry out to him, that long, that weaken his resolve and leave him with a want that saturates his blood with helplessness.

( Blade despises that memory, for he sees a future in you. Something warm, something so wholly separate from the horror lurking behind his vision. He sees what was lost, a sense of normalcy stolen away years ago. The thought of you leaves Blade prone. The thought of love, he realizes, was nothing more than bitter fruit. )

II. ONE DAY, BLADE’S FINGERS PRESS TOO HARD, and the delicate wood of the chai fractures.

He stares at the broken pieces and his hands shake with repressed fury, with a scream that rings in his head, with tears that refuse to fall, with a weight that crushes him. The hairpin is swiftly locked away and shoved into his drawers and he breathes, he stills his heart, he digs his nails into his arm till blood soaks his clothes and the pain outweighs the panic.

Do not think, he tells himself.

The hairpin in the drawer mocks him some more. Think of our promise. Think of what we were. Think of how you held me and kissed me behind the walls of our home and spoke of our dreams. Think of how we lived till our faces grew lined and our limbs grew stiffer, of how we spoke of peace in a far away place till we’d settle into the earth together.

That was not me, he hisses. He was not the white haired man whose eyes held no pain or anger. He was not the man who held you with a tenderness he was incapable of.

He looks at the drawer. The taunting does not cease and Blade sinks deeper into this pit.

III. BLADE’S DREAMS GROW HEAVIER and running away was but foolish optimism. He sees you in them, bent over one of his weapons, embing the final detailing, those touches of beauty and those flourishes that hold your strokes. He sees your hands, roughened like his from artistry and housework. He sees himself, reflected in the mirror, and he’s smiling as he calls your name.

“Don’t bother me!” you sigh. “Yingxing, I must concentrate.”

“You’d ignore your own husband?” he asks, his tone in jest.

You look up, your gaze dark and intense, and your hair a mess held back by a single hairpin ( and this was you, holding a passion brighter than the white sparks of the forge fire. This was you, with that strange brittleness and that softness that molded your body and being ).

“You don’t want that cocky kid tailing your ass for messing up his Guan Dao now do you? I’ll be the first to run away when you seek help. I promise that!” He laughs at your flustered gaze, at how you soften up for him and cup his cheeks with a playful pout.

When Blade’s eyes open, he sees your grave. The sweet distance of his memories that trail behind dissipate. Yingxing died centuries ago, laid to rest by your side in a tomb enshrined with flowers and incense. Perhaps he could learn to accept that, to let you lay with the man you loved.

( Not him, not the monster he was. )

He cleans away the fallen leaves and places the broken chai atop it.

Blade leaves without a word.

&& . jing yuan · ( and as the years pass ; you're all i have that remains )

I. THE LUOFU WAS A SHIP OF GHOSTS among men and Jing Yuan was old enough to know it. To the eyes of an immortal, where centuries bleed into yesterdays and what is ancient is recent, he knows the Luofu remains a stationary side in the universe. An unchanging phenomenon, a slew of familiar crowds and faces, a sect of people who refuse to die as a curse tears apart their bodies.

Jing Yuan knew irony like an old friend, like a sworn enemy, like an act of sudden betrayal etched too deep into his skin. Jing Yuan lived through it — the only soul that remains amongst five, the general who prides the company of finches as he ponders lost dreams, Jing Yuan himself, with his every calculated move beneath the monotonous guise of languid habit.

Jing Yuan has lived a life too vast for a human and he feels it, slowly, surely as the years wear on and the sweetness of longevity turns sour.

( And the Luofu too, feels it, as dear beloveds die yet the wounds remain fresh. When Jing Yuan met Dan Heng's gaze and saw little of that old friend, he knew, and it hurt, like a stab to the heart, like fire on bone.

Where would he stand one day — as the living comes to wither, when it's all over? )

II. YOU WERE THE LEGACY OF A DEAD WORLD — and Jing Yuan wonders what that burden brings — when his thoughts shift to your sleeping form next to him, still like upended earth and steady stone. He wonders what it feels like to live beneath that stifling loneliness, to watch the memories of your home crumble apart and fragment into nothing ( for the cosmos, it was large and it holds little time to remember old truths ).

Sometimes he sees the younger you when your soul would set alight, the caged creature who died too many deaths while walking that dangerous tightrope. He sees the weapon you let yourself become, following the orders of loveless men that let your wrists be slit and your bones be sacrificed.

Jing Yuan wonders if you feel like you're drowning too, if you felt like you were drowning in your home world, choking on chaos and blood while knives pressed at your throat as it seethed and hated what you were.

Because there is a story there, a tragic one in your scars and in your smile. It tells him of a place that was hardly kind to your darling heart, that spat you aside, that watched you suffer with a terrible apathy and let you cry your human tears till they dried out and you were nothing but its dark reflection.

How could you still be so kind? He wants to ask you, but he knows the answer.

Your eyes hold it, those persistent little embers scraped to the side of the hearth. And he loves them, he loves them, he loves them.

( And he loves you, behind his lazy smiles and in the way his cheeks would dimple and his lashes flutter. It’s something so passionate and deep for an old man like him and sometimes Jing Yuan fears what he feels for you.

Yet he loves you all the same. )

III. WHEN JING YUAN FIRST MET YOU, you tried to kill him, plain and simple ( and he fought back as you did in a deadly dance of your making ).

You were a child of abundance, no matter how you revile the curse you were afflicted with. And the Hunt was an enemy and the Luofu was an enemy and to the Luofu, you were a monstrous abomination and you were a threat.

A threat, he thinks when he touches the wedding band on your finger, when you stroke his beauty mark with an absent smile. A threat, he thinks when he sees you step into battles turned sour and bring down the mara struck with chilling ease. A threat, he thinks when he sees your melancholy in how you gaze at the stars.

“I feel so small.” you admit to him one day.

“Why?”

“I always did, back home and even now.” there is a sadness imbued in you, in your very being. You knew death all too well. You saw it creep into the flesh of your friends. You felt it dig its fingers into you before you fell out of its grasp and sent you far, far away. “I suppose it’s because I felt lost.” you finally speak up after a moment’s silence. “You feel small when you’re lost, don’t you? It’s because you don’t know what to do and everything feels so much harder in the world…”

( He knows. Aeons, he knows. Destiny was never as straight as Lan’s flying arrows. Destiny brought him friends, then took them away, then brought them back again as living ghosts with clouded gazes and new names. What was he to do in the face of it, but jest? )

“Do you feel lost now?” he asks.

“You’re here.” you smile at that and Jing Yuan’s heart melts, like butter to the stove. Mimi butts her head against you. “And Mimi too. And Yanqing. It’s still hard but…I could be kinder to myself…I wish to be.”

“Good.” Jing Yuan nods. He kisses the palm of your hand, then your nose, then your lips.

“Be kind to yourself too, Jing Yuan.”

He laughs, and it trembles, down to his chest. Jing Yuan sneaks another kiss again, letting him sink into this brief indulgence. “I will, dear heart.”

“Good.” you echo back. A laugh betrays you. It's the most beautiful sound he's heard.

IV. JING YUAN KNOWS THOSE UNFINISHED STORIES.

He contemplates his, then stops.

The universe was vast. It changes like the cloud cover and winds like the river currents. Perhaps, when the time comes, he could worry about the aftermaths and the will happens as he sets his pieces down and weaves his plans and stratagems.

He has a new chapter to write.

And you look over his shoulder, your worn hands grasping a kinder light.

❪⠀🎬⠀❫ AINE SPEAKS ;;

kjhgFCBGHJ I HOPE I MET YOUR STANDARDS. i wish i could have posted something longer, but seeing blade and jing yuan as immediate favorites, i just knew what i wanted to do. i hope you liked my summer santa gift.

fun fact : chai are special hairpins made with two prongs, and are customarily broken in half when a pair of lovers are sepeated. considering how haitrpins play its own role in chinese courting, i just had to include that.

the reader in jing yuan's part if heavily inspired by the reader / kind of oc in the jing yuan shot i have in works. something about old people being tired together kjhgvfbh.

title credits go to lostcap!

if you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill this form up!

taglist — @silentmoths @hiraethsdesires @x-zho @dustofthedailylife @kaelily @mikacynth @snobwaffles @jnyuan @bbladie @starzqx @sangomis @ofoceansandtombsanew @zhxngii @crystalflygeo @laughterofthetombs @khxii-i

AINE | 2023. do no plagiarize, repost or rework this piece.

#&&. my writing !!#honkai star rail #blade x reader #jing yuan x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail blade #honkai star rail jing yuan #angst #fluff #comfort #— summer santa

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chronicallycouchbound · 9 months

Text

How To Support People

Sometimes, when someone is struggling, we default to giving or offering what support we would want in that specific situation. We don’t mean to, but it can cause harm to someone who we are trying to help.

So what can we do instead? I would ask people: “How can I support you?” But it was often too open-ended. My loved ones didn’t know what they needed.

Mental, emotional, and physical are support types that can be used to give personalized offers for support! Sometimes, people need specific offers of support, usually a mix of types.

Mental support could be:

Facts

Wisdom

Constructive feedback

Solutions

Advice

Solutions

Resources

Mentoring

Guidance

Pros and cons

Advocacy

Reminders

Logical steps

Planning

Some examples can look like: - “I complied resources for you” - “Let’s make a support plan together” - “When I was in a similar situation, I did…”

Emotional support could be:

Validation

Venting

Commiseration

Solidarity

Affirmation

Listening

Check-ins

Distraction

Space

Comfort

Praise

Motivation

AITA?

Some examples can look like: - “Tell me what’s bothering you” - “I think it’s reasonable that you feel this way” - “You got this!” - “Do you need space?”

Physical support could be:

Housework/chores

Physical touch

Mutual aid funds

Body doubling

Acts of service

Gifts

Flowers

Food

Cards

Transportation

Some examples can look like: - “I finished your to-do list for you” - “I made you your favorite dinner” - “Let’s do this together” - “Can I make a fundraiser for this?”

We all have various needs and capacities, but I hope we can all find creative solutions to help support each other. Keep caring.

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toji-girl · 10 days

Text

tags: married fem reader + oc! husband + some suggestiveness

It wasn't a surprise by now and you weren't even sure why you let it bother you still, maybe it was because the man you married wasn't anything like he was when you first met five years ago and now it was a dead end relationship with nowhere to go, not even up.

Smoke billowed from under your hood and thanks to your lucky stars your car blew up in the driveway you shared with your neighbor Toji who happened to be on his balcony watching you anyway.

You coughed on the white cloud and attempted to fan it away as best as possible, trying to see what caused the issue. "Husband ain't home to help?" Toji called down to you with a huff, not that he was upset with you, but rather the excuse of a man you married.

No man should ever leave his woman stranded or with a car that could give her troubles. You turned to look up at him with a soft smile that never reached your eyes, none of them did expect when you talk to him. "Never is, do you mind? I owe you another months of rent."

It was a running joke between the both of you since Toji did most of your housework like fixing your washer when it began to leak and you needed clean work clothes. "How about just some dinner?" He counteroffered when he came closer to stand next to you.

"You haven't eaten?" You mused squinting your eyes at him making him shrug and smirk as he looked under the hood with a low whistle, one that made your skull burst with a headache, it wasn't good.

Toji didn't answer your question and pointed to a line that connected to your engine. "This is your problem, your best gettin' a new car darlin'." He told you, the use of that nickname that failed to make you quiver and flush with heat as you leaned in more to look at the issue.

Your sigh was pulled deep from your soul that was crafted from all the stress that accumulated from work and being married to your husband who seemed to drain you more than anything. "I don't think I can afford a new one right now, and I have to get to work."

"Take my car." It was so nonchalant that it made you do a double take so fast you were scared your head would screw right off as your mouth flopped open then shut a few times as he handed you his keys.

He uncurled your fingers watching you with a slight smirk. "I won't no for an answer, I have my motorcycle, unless you want to ride that?"

His words had a double meaning and you hated yourself for wanting to ride that man like he was the motorcycle. "I--no, thank you. I owe you that dinner, how about tomorrow night? He has to stay last as usual." You told him and leaned your head against his arm.

It's been two years since you've known Toji and his son who came by whenever his ex-wife allowed him to see his father, you knew their relationship was more than rocky and he just wanted to see his son.

"I'll have Megs with me if you don't mind." His voice was thick with something as you both turned to look at each other, his intense gaze made you want to buckle underneath his eyes.

"Of course, I never mind. He's a cutie pie and since we don't have any children it gives me a glimpse into what it would be like." You murmured and shut the hood with a loud thunk.

Toji rubbed at his chin watching as you dropped his keys in your purse. "You'd make a good mom, the best mommy." His words made your belly fill with butterflies as you nodded unsure what to say.

#I am the queen of these short drabbles lmaoooo #toji x reader #toji x you #jjk x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro x you #jujutsu toji #toji fushiguro x reader

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hatsunemitskislobotomy · 5 months

Text

“…𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙤𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙙𝙖𝙮..

𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙮 𝙗𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙙𝙖𝙮, 𝙗𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙮…”

╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴

well that was one way to be broken up with.

she couldn’t even be mad at the guy. he had been very sweet and patient but she had spiraled and started missing texts that turned to missing calls— which turned to missing dates. wasn’t the first time either, she just was that much of an exhausting person to keep up with.

in the sense that she was always behind.

she let out a sigh as she rid herself of his footprints, deleting his texts, deleting any photos, unadding him on socials— the whole nine yards.

but when it came to that dreaded voicemail.

her finger hovered over the red trash can button, taunting her.

and then she pocketed her phone, she supposed it would serve as a reminder.

that it was always her fault.

she rubbed at her face before emerging from her room.

“ah, you’re awake.” her raven haired roommate looked up from his book

“and to think we thought you were just about to sleep through your date.” her snowy haired roommate chimed in from his position laying across the raven’s lap

“ah, about that… i just got broken up with.”

“…”

it was quiet between the three of them, then again when was it not? she never made much efforts to communicate with them past their typical chores and roles in the housework.

the two in a friendlier than most relationship were seeking a third person to help take up the lease and that’s exactly what she did, nothing more nothing less.

and when it got awkward…

“yeah…” she murmured looking at her hands

“do you… want to talk about it?” it was a cheap attempt, she appreciated it nonetheless

“i’d rather not, i think my first proper conversation with you two shouldn’t be me bitching about my ex.”

satoru’s airy laugh sounded as he got up from his lover’s (?) lap.

“please, we wouldn’t be opposed.”

“speak for yourself satoru, only you are a fiend for other people’s affairs.” suguru tsked, closing his book slightly

“but please, if you need someone to talk to— we’re both willing.”

“i thought i was the fiend suguru—”

“you are, i’m offering as a concerned roommate.”

“i’m fine.” her words a lot harsher than she intended

and then came the unconvinced, concerned glances.

“sorry.”

and then she retreated back to her room.

if she kept this up she’d find herself out on the streets.

she let out a sigh, it was what she deserved right? no boyfriend, no roommates, no friends, nothing.

on her birthday no less.

she let out a sigh, she might as well distract from this pitiful day.

————————————————————

nothing beat rearranging your room instead of confronting your feelings.

she shook her head, she didn’t have a right to feel anything more than empty. the only thing that she felt was the need to rearrange her room and rearranged it was.

she needed a new change of scenery, after all she was another year older.

and yet still none the wiser.

the brutality of reality seemed to sting more as one got older.

she sighed, at least she can mope in a clean room.

a knock pulled her from her thoughts.

“it’s open.”

and then there stood her two roommates.

“i don’t think we’ve ever seen your room—ack! ow…”

“seriously satoru?”

“what? it’s true…”

she stared at the two bickering before the raven sat his eyes on her.

“y/n… we wanted to see if you were free later—“

“please, she’s always free—“

a smack, then a whine.

“we’ve realized that you haven’t been properly introduced to the area… we’d love to do you the honors.” he offered a half hearted smile

she supposed it was true, aside from her dates once in a while— she never really was familiar with the area.

“i suppose i can accept.”

“i told you suguru now we have to drag her ou— wait what?”

she chuckled, for the first time in a long time, a genuine chuckle tumbled out from her lips.

the two men were in awe.

“i’ll join your endeavors to wherever, i… i could use the fresh air.” she swallowed

the bright blue eyed man seemed ecstatic as he left her room pumped, the more subdued raven gave her a soft smile before leaving her to get ready in peace.

“thank you for humoring us.”

she should be thanking them, but she wouldn’t say that part out loud… at least not yet.

—————————————————

she couldn’t help but feel a bit awkward as she was wedged between the two men who insisted.

something about her being too small and easily losable in the crowd.

apparently these parts were known for having winter night markets where the cold winter streets would warm to life with street food and vendors.

she hardly had a chance to process the sights and the atmosphere as they dragged her from stall to stall, sampling food, eying trinkets, playing games.

she’d be a liar if she said she wasn’t having fun.

“wait guys— i’m gonna get some of the dango from earlier.” satoru was bouncing away before the two could even respond

“well his dentist certainly has their work cut out for them.”

suguru had to process her snark words a little before letting out a chuckle.

“believe it or not, satoru has the most elaborate brushing routine that I’ve ever seen. he’d rather die than develop any sensitivity to sweets.” he hummed

“i see.” she hummed, starting to rub her hands a bit

“getting cold?”

“a little, it’s fine— i’ll probably invest in gloves one of these days…” she sighed a little

“here, let me.”

he gently took her hands in his, letting her much smaller hands rest nice and warm in his own.

“your hands always this warm?”

“i’d have to say quite the opposite for you, and here i thought satoru’s was bad.” he chuckled lightly

“speaking of— if it’s within my boundaries… what are you two?” the words just tumbled out of her mouth

they weren’t married, and they seemed very comfortable in each other platonically as well.

it was obvious that they loved each other, but she couldn’t help but wonder in what way?

he tilted his head slightly.

“perhaps soulmates, life partners. he’s practically my everything.” he smiled

“oi! quit being so cryptic!” suddenly satoru was back with his dango in one hand and the other around the raven

“he’s my person— not much else to it.”

“that wasn’t any better than mine in the slightest.”

“yeah but you go into the poetics of it too much, just call it as it is.”

and she was left with more questions than she had answered, but in a way she sort of got what they meant.

they were each other’s person.

“i’m glad you two have each other.” she gave them a smile

“ah shit— she just got broken up with… are we being too much?”

“satoru!”

and there it was again, that airy laugh that made the boys still. they were still in awe that she had it in her, not when she constantly looked miserable in their eyes.

“guys, guys it’s fine— you don’t have to change anything for my sake.” she sighed, a small smile still playing at her lips

“ugh you’re so sweet! your loser boyfriend didn’t even deserve you like that!” satoru whined as he shook her a little

“especially dumping you on y—“

an elbow to the ribs and his hands were immediately off you.

“suguru…!” he groaned

“you have a big mouth.”

“oh but you like that~”

another elbow.

she couldn’t help but snicker at their antics, one moment they were like an old couple in love and another moment it was almost as if their were your typical best friends who’ve known each other forever.

she thinks she’s starting to understand what suguru meant by them being each other’s person a little bit better.

“sorry about talking about your relationships so carelessly.” suguru gave her a sheepish smile

“it’s alright, nothing that wasn’t my own fault.” she shrugged

they looked at each other.

she couldn’t just leave it at that.

“i have the tendency to just… withdraw..” she bit the inside of her cheek

“at some point it’s exhausting for the other person, dealing with me disappearing every so often— although it’s not intentional… it’s not hard for someone else to think i’ve lost interest or i’m being unfaithful.” she gave the two a half hearted shrug

“i suppose there’s just a lot i need to work on myself before i put myself out there.”

the two seemed conflicted, it was good she could recognize the areas she needs to work on…

“…but aren’t you being too harsh on yourself?” suguru blurted out, satoru immediately nodding

“there’s nothing wrong with working on yourself… but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to love and be loved.” satoru gave her a look

she knew they were right, but sometimes it was just easier to be miserable without having to think about another— only thinking about herself and her misery. she was selfish like that.

and they could tell by the conflict that flashed on her face.

before the conversation could progress any further she felt something cold prick at her nose, and then she looked up.

a gentle snow was falling.

“well would you look at that.”

she wore a wistful expression as she looked up, letting the snowflakes gather on her lashes as the warmth of her skin melted the ones on her face.

perhaps it was the universe letting her have this one thing, the first snow.

suguru and satoru seemed thrilled as well.

“suguru— look!”

“i see it satoru.”

but everyone seemed so far away as it was just her and the gentle snow.

it was beautiful.

but beautiful things hardly last.

“…!”

she looked back at the two who gave her a look, suddenly she was back on the busy night market street.

“you’re shivering.”

she didn’t notice until another one wracked her body.

before she could speak she felt herself being dragged along by satoru, suguru trailing behind the two.

“wha..? where are we going?”

“somewhere to warm up!”

——————————————————

when the two dragged her off, she expected for them to go back to their shared apartment or a restaurant.

but she was sitting down on a couch in a dim room with a microphone in hands while colored lights danced around the room.

“i… i have a few questions—”

“come on! it’s nice and warm and you can sing your heart out about your shitty ex!”

“he wasn’t shitty though, it was my fault we broke up.”

“that doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to feel some type of way about it.”

which was true.

“come on you know the classic breakup songs right? it’ll get whatever off your chest—“

and before she could protest satoru was already queuing up a song.

and that’s how the rest of the night went, although hesitant at first it wasn’t long before the three taking turns in singing songs and ballads. from cheesy classics to songs of yearning and heartbreak that suguru sang a bit too well for satoru’s comfort.

“i’ll never make you feel like that!” he whined clinging on to the raven who gave him an exasperated look

“i know.”

she couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight, it was nice to be around other people.

“i’m going to the restroom.” suguru hummed before peeling satoru off of him

“can i come with~”

“no.”

she snickered a bit at satoru’s clingy behavior.

“he’s so mean to me!” he huffed

“i think he knew if you two went together you wouldn’t be coming back out any time soon.” she mused

he let out a dramatic sigh.

“i suppose you’re right.”

“also we couldn’t leave your mopey self all by your lonesome.” he gave her a little nudge

she shook her head with a smile.

“i think i would’ve managed.”

“yeah yeah don’t lie— you’ve been all sad about your lame ex. y’know if you said no earlier sugu and i would’ve just dragged you out one way or another.”

“i’d like to see you try.”

“suguru manhandles me on the daily— we’d get ya.” he snickered

a comfortable silence fell between the two.

“do you feel better?”

she pondered his question a little.

“i do…”

but.

“but..?” he tilted his head

“it’s not even the breakup at this point…” she sighed a little

it was the prospect of getting older, and not a damn thing changed.

life itself was a fickle thing, ever changing.

so why hasn’t she?

gripping onto the ways of her past, she joked that she peaked when she was younger and it was all downhill from there… when did it start being actually true?

her past, her youth— it took all the best parts of her.

and now she was someone despicable enough to be broken up with on their birthday—

she felt cold hands on her cheeks, snapping her from her thoughts.

“you got lost in your head.” bright blue eyes staring down on her as she blinked

just how long did she spend ruminating looking like a complete nutcase in front of him?

“suguru was right— your hands are cold.” she mumbled out

“you alright?”

“i’m not sure yet.”

“…you wanna sing one more song?”

she sighed.

“pass me the mic.”

she got up to go queue up the next song, her back towards satoru— he didn’t need to see her inner turmoil boil up once more.

she heard the door click open, she figured suguru was back.

“ah— suguru. you wanna join the last—“

the words on her lips died as she turned around to meet his gaze, only for it to fall on a cake.

a birthday cake.

“welp— cat’s out of the bag! woooo! happy birthday!”

she was still processing it.

“satoru that’s hardly appropriate,” suguru rolled his eyes at him before turning to face her once more

“come, sit down.”

so she sat down on the couch in between the two as suguru set the cake down in front of her on the table.

“we weren’t sure what flavor you’re into but as a self proclaimed confectionery connoisseur, all the cakes from this bakery are really good so it should be alright.” satoru hummed as he pulled out candles from his pocket and expertly placed them around the cake

she finally found her words.

“how… how did you know…?”

suguru gave her a small smile.

“well at first we didn’t, but then we did some extensive research—“

“we were snooping around your socials.”

“…yeah that.”

her lips couldn’t help but quirk up at that.

“we knew something was up when you bothered to speak more than five words to us.” satoru shrugged before being met with a smack to the head

“owww…! it’s true!”

“forgive satoru, he’s bad at handling delicate situations.”

“i’m just saying it how it is! you looked more down than usual and we snooped around! can we talk about how shitty your ex is for dumping you on your birthday?” he ranted which earned him another smack

she was overwhelmed with emotion, she didn’t even realize the tears that started to stain her cheeks.

“you made her cry.”

“shit— i’m sorry!”

“no no,” she wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand

“i’m grateful i promise, just processing… y’know?”

“we hope you know that you deserve this, having a birthday worth celebrating.” suguru put a hand on her shoulder

she offered him a watery smile.

“hug? you look like you could use one.” satoru offered

typically she would’ve refused, she wasn’t big on physical gestures but she couldn’t stop herself from nodding softly wiping her face some more.

she let herself be caged in between the two, taking in their scents and warmth. she relaxed into their holds, letting out a sigh once her sniffling subsided.

“thank you.” she whispered softly

“i know we’re still sort of strangers but we’ve grown a liking to you, if you ever think you’re alone especially here… we’re here for you.” suguru murmured

“you’ve already been welcomed in our lives aside from the roommate formality stuff, it’s just up to you if you want us in yours.” satoru chuckled lightly ruffling her hair a little

“i’d… like that.”

and they held on for a little bit longer, she held on for a little bit longer.

“now how about we blow out some candles?”

❀° ┄───╮

this one is dedicated to all the girlies who feel some type of way (wanting to die lol) on their birthdays, including me today :,)

╰───┄ °❀

#happy bithday to me #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk drabbles #jjk geto #jjk gojo #satosugu x reader fluff #platonic satosugu x reader #satoru gojo #suguru geto #satosugu #jjk x reader #lowkey self insert whoops

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ph4ngz · 2 years

Note

Hey i have a request for Bakugou..🤭

LIKE imagine sitting on his Lap and he’s like

„ i can feel u throbbing „

btw rlly like your writings

Hot. Why does every guy I write about kinda end up being an asshole har har

I don’t have time to read this back, but hopefully there’s no mistakes *smiles awkwardly*

Thankyou btw! <3

/-/-/-/

It's been at least an hour since your boyfriend Bakugo returned home early from patrolling the city, maybe even longer. You don't know, being this horny makes it kinda difficult to keep track of time.

You're currently being bounced on your shirtless hero's thigh whilst he fills in a few bits of paperwork, built muscles flexing underneath your weight. He has a bare arm snaked around your waist to keep you steady as he moves around on the couch, and you can feel his hard abs tensing against your back each time he leans forward to retrieve another sheet of paper from the coffee table in front of you.

You'd been looking forward to having your man back from his exhausting job a few hours earlier since it makes cleaning, cooking and whatnot much easier compared to when doing it alone. Although, you had made sure to complete your daily chores before he came home today anyway, solely due to the fact that you'd been unbearably aroused since he left this morning. You'd already made yourself cum twice to the thought of him but, clearly, nothing you can do is good enough.

You're sure he can tell how you're feeling right now! You definitely saw him try to hide a smirk when he came home to you in just a shirt and panties!

You can see that he's tired of working without being able to look at his face, the sighs that blow past his lips every so often giving him away. He also never finished removing his work clothes.

"Finished yetttt?" you drawl out slowly, wiggling along the bottoms of his hero costume to reposition yourself and unintentionally nudging your clit upon his leg, the sudden tingle of pleasure making you hurriedly cover a whimper with a forced sniff.

Sighing, Bakugo answers to your childish whining, "Just gotta fill this last one out... n' then put my signature on that one, I think."

"Can't that one wait?"

Yes, you know it's rather selfish. You should be letting him concentrate, but...!

You lean back on his warm shoulder, your head fitting perfectly in the crook of his neck. Glancing up, you admire his side profile and the way his reading glasses rest upon the bridge of his nose. You'd always thought he looked hot with them on. Maybe he would place them on his head to keep his wild hair pushed back as he goes down on you... Or maybe he'd keep them on, until your juices squirting all over the lenses becomes too much so that he can't see clearly?

Wow, you are not doing yourself any favours.

Steamy thoughts cause your body temperature to rise, voice wobbly when you beg once again, "C'monnnn, you hardly ever get home this early. I always get lonely when you're not here with me, sitting here by myself after doing housework and stuff..."

The vivid thought of you at home, all alone, not knowing what to do with yourself for hours yanks at your boyfriend's heartstrings and it's almost paining him. Slowly, Bakugo relaxes, letting the arm around you land limply over your thighs. Still staring up at his side profile, your cute smile graces his peripheral view once he manoeuvres his head to face in your direction to show he's listening.

He closes his eyes, ballpoint pen still in hand yet not on paper, and presses his forehead into your hair so he can breathe in your homely scent. He's contemplating. A wave of pride washes over you at his behaviour, only you could ever manage to coax him out of hero work.

But that pride dulls into a certain annoyance when he reverts back to his previous position and begins to work towards completing his last form, the pen in his hand barely releasing any ink unless he presses down hard enough. He's losing motivation, just a teeny bit more persuading.

"Katsukiiiii," you extend the last sound of his name in the whiniest, most pathetic way you can whilst lifting your upper half away from him, only to force yourself down with a bratty huff. Thankfully Bakugo lifted the pen away before you made him scribble over everything with your little tantrum.

A "tch" comes from your right and you frown. Fine then, you think, proceeding to (struggle to) tug your panties down, but only until they reach the other hand he has on your upper legs. Rough, scarred fingers instantly grasp the crumpled fabric but he pays no mind.

As he writes, Bakugo moves his clutch on your underwear from the twisted hem to the noticeable wet patch between your slightly spread thighs. It's difficult to open your legs more for him with your panties constricting them to at most a mere few inches apart. You watch your boyfriend toy with the dampened cloth whilst appearing to focus on what's in front of him, repeatedly swiping a thumb across the stickiness.

"So damn impatient." he mutters grumpily as always, ignoring the abrupt exhale you release at his hand cupping your yearning cunt. Those gorgeous crimson eyes roll when you attempt circling your hips to ideally catch your pulsing clit against his bottoms, but the angle your body is positioned prevents that from happening. Though it doesn't prevent the hero from landing a clean smack on the sensitive skin of your almost hidden pussy.

"Chgh! Ow..." you grit your teeth as the initial sting subsides, finding yourself flustered with desperate tears clouding your vision. Why does he have to be so mean! What's worse is that he hasn't even showed any satisfaction yet, continuing with his stupid forms or whatever like he's being forced to tease you so brutally.

Like nothing ever happened, he returns one thick middle finger to your aching bud, only to discover that your sweet slick has amounted to so much that he can hardly keep it in one place without slipping.

Bakugo's tone of voice is relatively normal as he states, "Fucking hell, I spanked you once and you're drenched,"

You mewl lightly, his touch doing the bare minimum, gliding up and down your entrance so easily, embarrassingly easy.

Wait, he's put the pen down. Where has his other hand gone?

You hadn't realised his mouth was closing in on your ear until a sharp nibble to it makes you freeze up. A gruff whisper unleashes a tsunami of shivers to race down your spine.

"You miss me that much when I'm gone, huh?"

It sounds like a teasing question, but you know it's more than that. A 'condescending demand' is more of a fitting term. That other hand of his that sneakily coiled around your throat just now is a more than enough sign for you tell the difference. It squeezes lightly, as your hero relentlessly flicks his finger over your puffy clit. Your trembling hand rapidly covers your mouth, the odd yet familiar fear of reaching your first orgasm of the moment filling your body with sparking adrenaline.

You're wailing into your palm, fidgeting in his lap due to the overstimulation and frustration at the panties stopping your legs from opening further, drinking in his words and the breathy moans escaping him because of your own delicious little whimpers.

" 'miss me so much that you just can't help yourself, ah? So much that you go outta your way to distract me from my work?" and with that said, he stops tormenting your cunt to shove three of his digits between your sloppy folds just to press them harshly over your clenching hole.

For the first time in what seems like forever, you finally take a deep, albeit shaky, breath through your nose. Your entire body twitches uncontrollably, you were so close.

"Answer my damn question, brat."

Jeez, you picked a bad day to annoy him. Who pissed in his cereal this morning?

The growing angry rumble in his voice causes you to panic and whine into your fingers like you're incapable of talking. The grip from around your neck disappears, then returns around your wrist this time, tearing it away from your plumped lips with a thin string of drool attached.

His sudden act of power evokes pleading words from you, weak voice breaking with a, "Ka-Katsuki, I jus' wanna play—"

"Answer the question. You're not stupid," he pauses for a second before circling your entrance with some pressure. You gasp at a painful sensation blooming across your cheek, realising the hot skin is being pinched with his teeth.

"I can feel you throbbing. You can't hide it, how your tight little hole begs for me. Just say it, baby. Me, you and your needy fuckin' body all know the answer."

His fingers are almost inside you and his huge palm is pressed up on your burning clit. Bakugo nuzzles into the crook of your neck, ghosting his lips along the salty skin.

"Do yourself a favour, for god's sakes." he muffles into your shoulder whilst taking a handful of your plush hips and kneading harder than ever.

"...Yes, yes— I miss you that bad, Katsuki. I always miss you so so bad, it hurts~"

Your man chuckles lowly at you, decides to pull you further into him so that your ass grinds on his restrained, jolting cock. Your heart flutters at the sound of his laugh, even if it is mocking you. Your lusty eyes are forced to make contact with his, reading glasses pushing back his fringe just as you'd imagined. Then, he lovingly kisses the bite mark donning your face.

"Finally, s'all you had to do. Now, stop pissin' me off and bounce on it." he orders, effortlessly lifting you up by your underarms to buck his hips as he slams you down.

/-/-/-/

#katsuki bakugo mha #katsuki bakugo headcanons #bakugo katuski #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou smut #bnha bakugou #boku no hero academia #bakugou x reader #bakugo headcanons #bnha smut #bnha x reader

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chibinightowl · 6 months

Text

Why does housework always manage to inspire me? I'm exhausted and yet, here I am. Enjoy.

---

Tim wipes his brow, remembering too late he's wearing a bandana to catch the sweat beading on his brow. Grunting, he readjusts it for the umpteenth time.

Beside him, Jason snickers. "You should see the look on your face. If looks could kill..."

"You're lucky I don't have heat vision because you'd be dead again and in a pile of ash even Ra's can't resurrect."

From across the room, Dick's head jerks up. "Tim!" he admonishes. "Come on, it's not that bad."

"Not that bad?" Tim parrots back, ignoring the affronted look on Jason's face. "Not that bad? Dick, we are using an industrial carpet cleaner to clean up cow urine... In. The. Living. Room." He punctuates each word for good measure.

"And the Baby Bat is nowhere to be seen," Jason adds.

"He's got the flu, you can't expect him to help with this," Dick says, ever the peacemaker.

"No, but I sure as hell want to know why Batcow was in the house in the first place," Tim mutters. "If Alfred finds out..."

Dick pales. "I'm sure it was just an accident and the cow wandered in through an open door."

Jason's eyes narrow, catching the ridiculous lie as quickly as Tim does. "Don't tell me you tried to bring the cow into the manor to visit Damian."

It sounds utterly ridiculous but Tim knows Dick. He knows the lengths the man will go to bring a smile to their faces when it's in his power to do so. And this? It's right up his alley.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Dick answers breezily. "But what I do know is if you guys help me finish these rugs, I won't tell Bruce or Alfred you're shacking up."

Tim grimaces. It's not often the tables are turned when it comes to blackmail. But what he and Jason have is so new, the last thing either of them want is to tell Bruce. Better he figures it out on his own months or even years from now.

"Pretty sure Alfred already knows," Jason replies, glancing uncertainly at Tim. "He made a few comments the other day at tea."

"Good, bad, or neutral?"

"Neutral to good."

"Great." Tim turns his gaze back on Dick. "Since your threat doesn't have the power of Alfred behind it, you're got fifteen minutes before I walk out of here and leave you on your own."

Jason nods. "I second that, Dickie. You're interrupting date night."

That's a lie but Dick doesn't know that. Still, maybe they can turn it into one after they're done.

"I'll get you a reservation at Francine's if you stay and help me finish," Dick pleads. "Please, guys. Alfred will murder me if he sees the rug."

Tim can get that reservation just as easily, but he makes a show of glancing at Jason to get his thoughts. "Well?"

"I think Dickie is a dead man anyway." Jason gestures to the rug they're been working on for the last 45 minutes. "Only way to salvage this is to cut your losses and get a new one."

Dick groans. "Fine. Where can we buy a new rug at this time of night?"

Jason flashes an arch look at Tim as he smirks. "I know a guy."

#chibinightowl writes #jaytim #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #I hate cleaning carpets #but it's done and looks good #my sinuses are already thanking me for the effort

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georgiapeach30513 · 1 day

Text

How I'm Looking At You, Part 1

Summary: You were long considered a spinster. Your family was desperate for money, and you were their only option. Sending you to work for a newcomer who was not part of the Amish community was risky, and it brought forth the gossip. Ari didn't seem to care what others thought about him, but he did care what they thought about you. Making your innocent crush and close proximity a bit more...harder. But can you convince him and yourself that the feelings are worth it? But what if it is just a crush? Do you even care anymore? Or are you ready to risk it all and leave the community?

Pairings: Ari Levinson X Reader

Rating: mild

Warnings: gossip, questioning religious teachings, language, sexual tension, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4.1K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

Ari takes a deep breath as he looks around. A whole lot of nothing. Land as far as the eye can see, neighbors weren’t close. He is in over his head. It was a great deal, and it made sense at the time, but now that he has sweat dripping down his face, blisters on his fingers, and more sun on his neck that his mom would deem necessary he realizes this was just a dumb idea.

The outside of the homestead is one thing, but the inside is unkempt and a complete disaster. He didn’t even know where to begin. Overwhelming didn’t even seem a strong enough word to describe the mess he is in. It is getting lonely out here, and the farmhands he hired aren’t helping much on the home or the kind of loneliness he feels. Life out here is different.

“I don’t think you’re gonna make it,” Jacob, one of the more vocal boys that Ari hired. Ari didn’t need anything that this life could bring him. In fact everyone here would probably shit themselves if they knew how much he is worth. Sometimes you just need an escape from the city life. “You look like you’re gonna melt away.”

“I’m thinking,” Ari gruffs out. The outside is fine. It is looking great, and the only reason he is even out here helping is his doctor told him stress was going to kill him. How is this not stressful?

“What’re you thinking about?”

“What do you know about keeping a house?” The young man stares at Ari awkwardly before looking at the other two men confused. They shuffle around nervously, looking down at the tilled land, “Did I say something?”

“I don’t think you understand the roles here,” Ari shrugs his shoulders, and the two boys that he couldn’t be bothered to learn their name since they didn’t talk to him before return back to their work.

“Care to enlighten me?”

“I don’t think what I’m suggesting will happen,” Ari squirts as he looks at the vastness of the land. He’d take any suggestion at this point, or whatever he had to offer.

“I don’t need suggestions, I asked to be enlightened.”

Jacob points to himself, but starts scratching his head after, “We don’t do housework. That’s for the women.”

“So I should find a woman to hire for the house,” the other boys start to chuckle, but remain working. “I think I missed something.”

“It won’t help,” Jacob shrugs his shoulders, as he grabs up his tool.

“Why?”

“If you think you’re going to get a married woman in a single English man’s home, you’re crazy. If you think you’re going to get an unmarried woman in a single English man’s home, you’re insane. Nobody would ever let their wife or their daughter in your home.”

Ari closes his eyes slowly. This way of life is confusing for him. He doesn’t want to tie a woman up in his bed and have his way with her, well — no, he wants help for his home. “Why wouldn’t they?”

“Have you looked at yourself? You’re like a man from the forbidden books. You bring out lustful thoughts in a woman. How are they to remain pure when there’s an English man that embodies everything they’re not supposed to have?”

“I don’t know how to use my stove though,” Jacob shrugs his shoulders. He didn’t see how any man would let a woman in his life ever be in Ari’s home. Especially not alone. “If I were to try, where would one go look for a woman that is unwed and needs a job?” The other boys laugh again, but Jacob points out into the distance.

“There’s only one person I can think of. A family that only had one daughter, no sons. They’re…well, they could use some charity. Their farm is quite small,” Ari hears one of the boys whistle, and chooses to ignore them. “She works at the general store.”

It isn’t the most ideal place to look, but it is the only one for now. What is the worst they could say? No. “You boys got this here?” All three give him a nod, there is so much nodding with everyone here, and he starts walking to his truck. He wasn’t going to go the horse drawn carriage route with transportation. And this isn’t a flashy truck. Old and rusty, and now he had a bit more hope of finding help for the inside of his farm. Maybe.

You can hear the giggles from the front of the general store. It was always about you, and they never tried to hide the way that they giggled and carried on about you. You weren’t supposed to gossip, and yet they always did about you. You were told you were too old to wed, and you weren’t a man and couldn’t help your father on the farm. And you weren’t the most demure because you spoke to everyone, and no matter what you did it was never right. And everyone wanted to point it out.

All you can bear to do is hold your head up high and try not to let the giggles and the random sound of your name off their sinning mouths to not affect you. Unfortunately it did every time, deep into your heart. You didn’t have friends, except the people that come into your store, and it made you long for something besides loneliness.

You wished you would have taken off long ago, but your parents didn’t deserve that. You had dreams of getting married young and having lots of little boys to help your father out. Had told your parents you could do the labor, but they felt you were better suited here. So hear you stay constantly hearing the drone of pious women being anything but that.

It is all politics and a game, and you quite frankly were sick of it. Sick of the constant need to be perfect as a human when it was literally impossible. So instead you pretend as if this is the life that you wanted. Living in a modern world, but acting as if you’re in the past. If anyone knew about your thoughts on wanting to break free, you’d be shunned, and you just couldn’t afford that.

It isn’t too often that you hear a rumble of an old Ford truck nearby, or the slamming of a door, or the fact that the giggling stops, and you see a gaggle of young women start to waddle away from the general store. And you can’t help but think, good riddance. The fact that they wanted to linger here while they whispered and giggled about your life that didn’t interfere with theirs is cruel. You always had to be the peak of perfection, while they were marking off the commandments like it was their job.

Booming footsteps isn’t unusual. What is unusual is the man that walks through the general store door, and you have a combination of looking too long and needing to look away immediately. Your eyes dart to his face, and then the countertop. Studying him and the wood grain in equal amounts.

Noticing the sticky sheen on his skin, and the random droplets of sweat dragging down his neck. Noticing his hair damp with said sweat, and still looking so fluffy. He walks over to a cooler, and pulls out a bottle of soda. Doesn’t bother to pay for it first, just pops the top, and leans his head back. His Adam’s apple moves with every gulp, and you know you look too long because his dark blue eyes shift towards you, and he winks.

Looking down at the counter, heat courses up your neck. Swirling around your ears, and your throat tightens. You need water. Even alcohol at this point. You had stolen a few sips before, and always heard it helps in situations such as these. Something is happening to your body that you just can’t explain, and you can’t even glance at him anymore.

“Ma’am?”

“Mhmm,” your response comes out whispered and pitiful, and you’re still unable to meet his gaze. A sudden urge to sit down, and let your body curl into itself pops up, and you need an exit. Air. Air would be really nice right now.

“I want to pay for the soda, but also a few more. My hired hands would like a treat,” why did the word hands sound so — delicious? Does that even make sense?

“Sure,” your body goes on autopilot as you start to ring him up. Still not daring to look at him. You’d crack, you just know it. You would be a puddle on the floor if you even tried. “Are you new?” How that sentence was even able to come out of your mouth is a mystery. Your throat is so dry and in need of rehydration immediately.

“Yeah. I bought the old Yoder farm, right at the edge of the town,” of course he did. The most coveted of farms, and even that is a sin. Too big of a farm for a single man. Did he mean to convert? Or was it too good of a purchase to not make the investment?

“That’s actually why I’m here. Darling, you think you can look at me?” Oh. Hearing a name usually saved for your parents to use for you, sounds very different from his silky voice. Your eyes shift up to look at him, and he’s even more handsome close up. You shouldn’t be worried about someone’s appearance, but he also should have his buttons done up a bit more. Too much of his gloriously tanned rippling chest is showing. He is all man. And the butterflies that erupt in your stomach makes you recall the gossipers’ talk of you being alone forever.

Those girls would not fare well if the elders knew what they were doing. But seeing this man, and his beard wet with soda, and the heavy feeling in your unseen areas, makes you quickly ask the heaven’s for forgiveness. You didn’t ask for that feeling though, it just happened. Your body is reacting to the way he looks and that close proximity to him.

“Why are you here?”

“I have hired hands for the outside, but the home itself — well it has much left to be desired. I don’t know what I’m doing in an Amish home,” you nod your head, a giddy smirk tickling the edge of your mouth, and he returns the smile. It’s a struggle to continue to look at him with how attractive you find him when he smiles. He’s handsome. Very handsome, “Yeah, I don’t know how to keep an Amish home. So this is very different.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” you didn’t. You didn’t know at all what he was referring to. English people can be so tricky with their words. No need in trying to sway a thought, just be blatantly honest about what you need.

“Well, I hired some boys to take care of the outside. I was needing to hire a woman for the home,” oh. Your sight goes back to the counter, and you shake your head no. “I didn’t even proposition you.”

“Sir, I don’t know if you are aware of our culture, but that would be — no woman should be alone with you,” it is true. It wouldn’t matter if she was married or not, it would be highly frowned upon. He didn’t know what he was asking. But even you being here in this general store, alone with him would be frowned upon. You wondered. “But some of our men are a bit more relaxed than others.”

“Is your husband?”

“I’m not married.”

“So could I hire you? I’d pay double of whatever you’re making here,” tempting. Sinful. And you want it. You wouldn’t have to listen to the gossip of those girls. Gossip would happen, you know it would. But you wouldn’t have to hear it. That sounds lovely. And you could become a ‘fulfilled Amish woman’ because you were keeping up a household. You wouldn’t be a complete failure.

“You’d have to ask my father for permission.”

“Are you not grown?”

Now it’s time for your overly sweet smile. If only he knew how there is a huge part of you that is ready to run away from this life. You are grown, and the fact you are telling another grown human that he had to ask your father for permission is obnoxious. “You truly don’t understand. I will need his permission to be alone in a man’s home. Appeal to his better nature. But yes, I would very much like to be out of here.”

And you want to be around him more. Like a rope that had wrapped around you and was going to jerk you into his thick broad chest. You would very much like that. Maybe a bit too much. You shouldn’t desire and lust after this man, but he is not grown like the boys here.

“So if I talk to your father, and he agrees…”

“What’s your name?”

“Ari Levinson,” my goodness. You need to repent for your body’s misbehavior. But for right now you’re trying not to melt away.

“Yes, Mr. Levinson. I would like to keep your house up.”

“So here’s the kitchen,” you smile kindly as you take everything in. The house is just a bit more grand than most in the area. The land is plentiful. The Yoders’ were a bit more modern, which is why they didn’t do well in this more traditional area.

“And, I really don’t need to explain this all to you, do I?”

“Not particularly,” you answer. Your eyes take in everything. Almost envisioning what a real English home would look like. Peeking into the sitting room, and going back to his really tall and thick stature. Having to look quickly away from him because he is staring too intently at you.

“What time are you wanting me to start working? Are you desiring breakfast?” That was an odd choice of words that you’re using. Desire is something you have been feeling lately, and you don’t fully understand the feelings. Or whatever is happening to your body, you just know that you enjoy looking at him. “Or lunch? Or dinner?”

“All three would be appreciative, but not a requirement,” you give him a head nod, starting to open up cabinets. You cringe. This isn’t how you were taught, but you can’t help it. He was in dire need of assistance, you see. “I apologize, Darling. Maybe I can give you some money, and you furnish the kitchen properly?”

“I would need to.”

“You do whatever you need, Darling. You just tell me what you need me to do,” he keeps using that name with you. You never feel this way when your parents call you that. This weird knot in your stomach that twists and twists, and your breathing isn’t normal. You’re just standing here staring at this man, and that is all.

“Is everything okay? Did I say something? I’m not good at this?”

“No, the um…I’d need to go into town,” shuffling your feet around you try to look at him, and try to ignore the burning in your throat, and between your thighs? What even is this?

“Okay,” that’s all he has to say. And you can’t end it there for several reasons. One of which is because you don’t want him to go. “Darling, you’re going to have to talk to me. I can tell there’s something you need.”

“Town is a few miles away,” he nods. Still not understanding what you’re needing. Did you even understand? “And you need a lot,” he blinks owlishly at you, and you try to swallow a completely dry mouth, “I don’t have a way to get there and bring everything back.”

“Oh, of course. I’m sorry, Darling,” that name again. You almost want to start counting how many times he uses it a day. His hand touches your shoulder as he steps past you to grab his keys, and you inadvertently bite your lip. “Can you ride in the truck? Is that allowed? Do I have to get a horse and buggy?”

“A truck is fine,” your voice is so breathless as you follow him towards the outside. Ready to head towards town, and hopefully to get everything you would need.

“I’ve got to tell the boys I’ll be leaving. You go on, and get in the truck,” walking outside with your eyes focused downward, you walk towards his truck. Trying not to look at the boys from the church, but they are most definitely looking at you.

Staring so intently they don’t notice Ari walking right up to them, and Jacob looks too long for Ari’s comfort, “What’s she doing here?”

“I took your advice. She’ll be keeping the house up.”

“Like a wife?” Jacob removes his hat, continuing to stare at you casually getting in his truck. Your eyes are still downcast, and your unmoving face still looking straight ahead and not at the boys. “So her parents agreed to this, and she’s just getting in your car.”

“I just met her and you’re talking about wives. No, I’m taking her to town to get the things she’ll need here. You boys continue to do the work, and I’ll return,” he nods to each of them, and they all gawk as he walks towards the truck, and you give them one solid glance, and they return to their work. Not making it too obvious that they are looking at you.

Opening the truck door, you watch as his thick body hops in. Looking at his legs, and how thick they look sitting down, and you weave your fingers together. Looking down at your own lap when Ari looks towards you, “You seem uncomfortable.”

“They are watching us, Mr. Levinson.”

“Should you not be in the truck with me? And please, call me Ari.”

“You’ll find out soon enough that for a community that teaches against gossiping, they will truly gossip. Carry on,” getting out of the sight of the farm, you feel comfortable enough to sit up. The gossip will always happen, you just learned to accept that. Continuing to glance at him, and you can’t stop. It’s unexplainable, but you aren’t the only one.

His dark blue orbs find a way to look towards you, and even smirks, “Do you only ever wear the dress and bonnet?”

“Just when I’m awake. Why?”

“Is it comfortable?” Not really. But it could be worse.

“It’s not uncomfortable,” you can’t truly be honest. So you feel.

“I see. But you don’t particularly enjoy it,” at least he understood what you meant. “So the women here, they’re job is to learn to keep a house, and then you marry off and do just that?”

“Yes,” it makes it sound so simple, and you almost want to curse what a quaint life you live. You weren’t given the opportunity to have dreams or want more. The dream was to marry, have kids, have your own home. You even wonder if your desires to marry was because you were told that’s what you did.

“Hmm,” he contemplates, paying attention to the road even though he’s more interested in your thoughts on this topic. You didn’t seem to have the same goals as the other people here.

“It’s not a horrible life.”

“I guess not.”

“It has its perks,” you argue. “It’s beautiful out here. We have the ability to ignore the noise that everyone else surrounds themselves in. I might not have the luxury of having my own dreams, but being a wife and mother, and keeping a house up is an honorable life,” it was, if not boring in ways. You never had the chance to explore something more.

“I didn’t say it wasn’t. But you’re not married. Is there a reason?” You turn to look at him. Actually, look. Had there been a man in the community that looked like him, you might have considered it. This is just silly because now you’re being someone who judges another based on looks. “You don’t have to answer.”

“My father isn’t like most,” you have a good father. Older than most of the ones who had children your age. “I think a part of him didn’t want to see me unhappy. I had a few interested for my hand in marriage, but I didn’t want them, and he didn’t make me Mary them.”

“Why didn’t you want them?”

“It’s easy for men here to get away with their indiscretions. And I don’t want to marry out of duty, or have to bear children with a man I can’t stand to look at. That’s what they all want. Just a wife and her to birth his last name.”

“You mean sex. It’s what most men want.”

“Sex?” You look at him confused, shaking your head, “No, I mean children. Extending your legacy,” Ari chuckles, giving you a devious smile, and your chest constricts. “What?”

“Do you know what sex is?”

“I…I assure you that we’ve been talking too much,” you gulp, wishing that you could arrive in town faster. You aren’t sure what he’s talking about, but you are sure that you feel like you’re going to combust. There is a thickness in the cab that you can’t explain. A fiery pain that settles below your stomach, and…other places.

“So you don’t?”

“Ari, is this an appropriate conversation?”

“I’m assuming that it’s not, judging by your reaction, but I am now curious. Do you know how bearing children comes to happen?”

“I live on a farm, I’m well aware of how breeding works,” he snorts, and you turn to face him quickly, “What is so funny?”

“That you’re referring to it as breeding. I suppose that’s true, but with humans it can be so much more.”

“What does that mean?” The truck drifts to the side of the dirt road, and your thumbs twiddle nervously. The air becomes even thicker when he leans in closer to you. “Ari?”

“I’ll take it easy on you this time,” what does that even mean? Putting the truck into park, he faces you. “Has anyone, man or woman just made everything in your belly float around? Like there’s this weirdness inside of you, pricking your skin whenever they’re around, and your throat dries up, and you can’t talk, and…”

“Your belly feels empty like you need something to fill something inside of you,” Ari clears his throat, looking down at your lap, watching as your thighs twitch around.

“Yes. Exactly like you need to be filled with something.”

“I feel — have felt that way,” you agree, trying not to let him know that it is in fact him making you feel that way. “But it doesn’t always seem pleasant when the animals mate.”

“I assure you if a man knows what he’s doing it can be very pleasurable to you,” a noise you have never heard before squeaks out of your mouth, and you look down at your lap again. Heat didn’t even describe what you are feeling. A roaring fire or volcano getting ready to erupt, and the need to go to the bathroom to clean yourself is more accurate. What is going on with your body?

“If he knows what he’s doing he can take you to another plane of existence,” Ari has been in this odd town for a few weeks, and not so much as glanced at a woman since. Judging by your reaction you are understanding exactly what he is talking about. He adjusts his pants, turning back to look straight ahead. He is also getting uncomfortable, but not because of you. His uncomfort is himself. Hopefully for the same reasons you appear to wiggle around too much.

“The way he could make you feel without ever — entering your body. It's a pleasure beyond your wildest dreams. Learning another person’s body can be fun. It can be paradise.”

“Should we be having this conversation?”

“Probably not. So maybe we keep it to ourselves, and I’ll buy you something besides that dress to wear?” The ideas he has mulling in his mind of what he could put you in, he’s downright ashamed of.

“I could only wear them inside your house.”

“I was only wanting you to wear them for me anyways, Darling,” fuck. He’s fucking fucked. A quick flash of you submissively getting to your knees as he paints your lips with precum comes to his mind. Your mouth slowly opens as you innocently let his cock breach your lips. Looking so pretty as you stare up at him. Fuck.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

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