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#someone you know could be suffering. reach out today
yuukiiqwq · 8 days
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Satoru was confident that you liked him back. He was positive. He had no doubt in his mind that you were going to be his pretty little wife. Is he getting ahead of himself? Sure, he is, but he's that confident. That's until he noticed how he hadn't received any chocolate from you.
It was Valentine's Day, and he still hasn't received any chocolate from you. Yeah, he had a mountain worth of chocolate from all those people who gave him it, but where was yours? He couldn't find it anywhere. He was sure that would have placed your chocolate on his desk since you hadn't given him his. He double no triple checked all the chocolates, yet he could not find the one that has your pretty little name written on it. He continued to search through the chocolate pile for the fourth time today.
He must have missed it, right? Or did someone steal it? He swear he's going to hunt that person to the end of the Earth. Who dared to steal something that was rightfully his?
"Satoru, calm down."
He looked up at his best friend, who was trying to hold down a laugh at his panic.
"She'll probably give it to you later. The day just begun."
Right. Suguru is right. You'll give him his chocolate later. He's a good boy. He can wait.
That's what he told himself, but Suguru and Shoko have already received theirs this morning, and his is still nowhere to be found. Where is his chocolate? You're just sitting there in your seat, looking all pretty as if Satoru is not going through a huge dilemma because of you.
He couldn't help his hands that kept inching itself closer to the chocolate you gave Suguru. He wouldn't know if he snatched it, right? Suguru had received a lot of chocolate! He wouldn't know if he took it... was what he convinced himself before Suguru slapped his hand away.
"Satoru," he sighs.
"But Suguru!!!" Satoru whined as he sunk down into his seat.
"Be patient. You'll get yours soon."
But how soon is soon? Satoru isn't exactly known for his patient.
It was the end of the day, and still no chocolate from you. He asked Suguru and Shoko to leave first because he thought you would finally give it to him when both of you were alone. But you haven't. Where was his chocolate?
The two of you were approaching the exit of school, so Satoru made a quick decision, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into an empty classroom. He quickly shut the door and locked it.
"Satoru?" You asked in confusion. "What's wrong?"
"My chocolate."
"Your chocolate?"
"My chocolate from you! The symbol of your love towards me!"
"I didn't make you any," you replied smoothly. "Forgot to make them yesterday, so I woke up early today to make them, but I guess not early enough. I only had time to finish Shoko's and Suguru's. I didn't have time to make yours. Otherwise, I would have been late."
Satoru swear the world just ended. He looked down at his chest because he swears his heart ripped out of his chest at your words. Nope. Still alive. Why is he still alive in this cruel world? You had no chocolate for him? None? Not even a crumb?
"That's fine with you, right? I mean, you got a bunch of chocolate from other girls! You don't need mine."
He swear he is about to burst into tears. He didn't care about other girls. He didn't care about their chocolate. He wanted yours. How could you be so cruel and deny him of your chocolate? To reject him like this? He was devastated. No. Beyond devastated. Where is the closest cliff so he can jump off?
Pure silence radiated the room as Satoru tried to comprehend this horrible situation. Then he heard a small giggle slip pass your lips. That small giggle soon turns into a full-out laugh.
"You should have seen the look on your face, Satoru," you say as you try to stop laughing.
Was this funny to you? Why were you laughing at his suffering? Do you know how much he looked forward to today? To receive the cute little wrapped up chocolate you made for him? He dreamed of today, and you didn't have chocolate for him?
He then sees you reach into your bag and pull out exactly what he had imagined. A cute little chocolate box wrapped up in a baby blue color with a touch of white ribbon to finish it off. Fuck. He thinks he just got a heart attack seeing your chocolate. His chocolate.
"Princess, please don't joke like that to me ever again. You scared me half to death. I was going to jump off a cliff," he whined as he took the chocolate from your hand.
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his dramatic behavior. "Stop being dramatic, Satoru. It's just chocolate."
A look of offense dawned his face as you utter those horrendous words to him.
"Chocolate? Just chocolate?" He huffed at you. He can't believe you as you treat this amazing god send gift as just chocolate. "Don't you dare call this just chocolate! This! This right here is proof of your undying love towards me!"
You laughed at his antics– "You're getting ahead of yourself, Satoru."
He delicately placed the chocolate safety away in his bag, treating it as a prized possession. He's looking forward towards white day. He already knows what he wants to get for you. He pulled you into a hug, nuzzling his face against your neck as he mutters– "You won't be saying that after I wife you up."
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kentobb · 4 months
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The Promise
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Character: Ushijima Wakatoshi x F!Reader
Warnings: Heavy angst, cursing, slight comfort on the end.
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It has been a rough month and Ushijima knows it. He has been overworking himself, pushing his limits at each practice. His typically calm and composed face is now etched with stress and strain. His temperament, once steady as a rock, is now volatile and erratic, akin to a stormy sea. The month had been grueling, a relentless onslaught of training sessions and personal workouts. His body is aching, his mind is strained, and his spirit is beginning to waver.
Today, he returns to his apartment later than usual, bone-tired, his muscles screaming in protest, only to be greeted by your sight, his sweet and loving girlfriend. Your smile always warm, eyes filled with concern, having dinner ready, a hot bath drawn, and comforting words falling from your lips.
He should feel guilty for his recent behavior, matter of fact he should apologize. He was not a man prone to emotional outbursts or thoughtless actions, and yet, he had allowed his stress to control him, to turn him into someone he hardly recognized these days.
He had ignored you, brushed off your attempts at conversations, and retreated into himself. He had been mean, cold, distant. He had forgotten your presence, forgotten the warmth you brought into his life, forgotten the love that had once made his heart flutter.
And tonight was no different, the weight of the day pressing heavily on his shoulders, his mind foggy and his spirit was weary. As he kicked off his shoes and hung his jacket on the hook, the tantalizing aroma of dinner wafted through the apartment. He followed the scent into the kitchen, his eyes landing on the sight of you, sitting at the kitchen table, a spread of dishes laid out in front of you.
You looked up the entrance and your face lights up with a smile that reaches your eyes. A sight that used to warm his heart, a sight that used to make him forget about exhaustion, a sight that used to make him feel loved.
“‘Toshi, you’re home!” You smiled happily.
But today, he could only muster a tired sigh in response. He saw you on your feet in an instant, your chair scraping against the floor as you rushed towards him. Your arms wrapped around him in a tight hug, your warmth seeping into him. But he didn’t return the hug, didn’t wrap his arms around you, didn’t press a kiss to your forehead like he always does. He just stood there, his body rigid, his mind elsewhere.
You pulled away, you don’t know if it is out of embarrassment or…due to a sudden heartbreak due to the neglect you have been suffering, but your hands suddenly cup his face, eyes searching his for a sign of the man you loved. “Um, we should, well, you should go eat,” You urged, your voice soft and your touch gentle. But he shook his head, his voice coming out gruff as he muttered, “I’m tired.”
But you didn’t back down this time, didn’t let him retreat into himself like he has done all this month. You tugged at his hand, tried to lead him to the table with the dinner you worked very hard for, trying to make him eat. “Come on, Toshi, you been avoiding me this past month,” You insisted, your voice firm, your grip tight. “Just be here, yeah?” You smiled.
But he snapped. “For fuck sakes Y/N, I’m tired!” He barked, his voice louder that he intended, his tone harsher than he meant. He yanked his hand out of your grip, his eyes flashing with a mixture of frustration and exhaustion. “You have been nagging me all these past nights to have fucking dinner and you don’t understand that I am tired.” He yelled again.
The silence that followed was deafening, the tension in the room palpable. You took a step back, embarrassed that your boyfriend had to yelled at you like that, “Ah, sorry, I just thought—“ You were saying but were cut off immediately by his sharp words.
“Thought what? Thought what, Y/N?” He yelled in disbelief, “That you have been a pain in the ass for the past few days?” He asked as he raised his voice louder, tone meaner.
“I-I’m sorry,” You apologized, trying to mask your disappointment, “I have missed you…” You mumbled embarrassedly, trying to hide your flushed face from him.
“Missed me?” He yelled, “We live in the same fucking apartment and we see each other every night!” He yelled, his voice echoing in the quiet apartment.
“I- I know, I know, Toshi,” You said, trying to calm him down, “B-But we haven’t been able to talk, you haven’t kissed me or touched me…” You admit painfully as you looked at him with teary eyes.
“God, you’re so fucking clingy and needy,” He yells as he rolled his eyes out of frustration. “All of this mess because of that?” He chuckled, “I am tired for this crap right now.” He said.
The room fell silent, the tension hanging heavy in the air. He watched your face fall, your eyes reflecting the hurt his words had caused. And guilt washed over him like a tidal wave, his heart clenching at your sight.
You know he didn’t mean any single word of it, right? He was just tired, so incredibly tired. His days were filled with endless practices, his nights consumed by restless sleep. He was pushing himself to the brink, his body and mind paying the price.
He didn’t mean it.
“Sorry,” You mumbled, “I will clean the mess,” You said as you hid your face away from his, walking towards the kitchen again.
His mind raced, guilt and regret swirling within him. He wanted to apologize, to explain, to make you understand that fuck, he didn’t mean any of it. But the words wouldn’t come, his throat tight with emotion. He was trapped in his own guilt, his own exhaustion, his own regret. And he didn’t know how to escape.
He watched from the doorway as you busied yourself in the kitchen, cleaning up the dinner he had refused to eat. His heart clenching at the sight, guilt gnawing at his insides. He had been harsh, mean even, and he regretted it.
Your movements were mechanical, your usual cheerfulness replaced with a somber silence. He watched as you wiped the table clean, packed the uneaten food, and washed the dishes. Your shoulders are tense, lips pressed into a thin line.
And he noticed, noticed how you tried to compose yourself, how you tried to hold back the tears. But despite your efforts, a few escaped, trailing down your cheeks and disappearing into the collar of your shirt. Each tear was a stab to his heart, a painful reminder of the hurt he had caused.
Once you were done, you turned off the lights, plunging the kitchen into the darkness. The only sound was the sound of the soft padding of your feet as you made your way to the bedroom, where he was waiting.
Both of you sat on opposite sides of the bed, an uncomfortable silence hanging between both of you. He watched as you changed into your sleeping clothes, your movements slow and deliberate. You climbed into bed, your back to him, body curling up on your side.
He was at a loss. He didn’t knew what to do, didn’t know what to say. He was worried, his mind filled with the thoughts of you, of the hurt he had caused. He knew you had taken his words to heart, knew that you were hurting. And it was all of his fault.
In the dimly lit room, his silhouette was barely visible as he climbed into bed next to you. The only sound that broke silence was your soft, muffled sobs. His heart clenched at the sound. He reached out tentatively, his hands finding their way around your waist. He drew you close, his chest against your back, both of your hearts beating in a rhythm that was painfully off sync.
He leaned in, pressing his lips against your swollen and teary face, tasting the saltiness of your tears. “I’m sorry,” He whispered into your hair, his voice barely audible. His words hung heavy in the air, a confession and a plea all at once.
You remained silent, sobs subsiding into quiet sniffles. And he could feel your body stiffen at his words. It was an unspoken tension that made his heart race with worry. He wanted to say more, you deserved way more, to explain, to ask for forgiveness, but the words stuck in his throat.
“Talk to me, love.” He implored, his voice barely a whisper. His fingers tracing circles on your waist, a silent plea for you to respond.
But you don’t. Your silence was deafening wrapping you both in a shroud of uncertainty. And he held you tighter, his mind racing with thoughts and fears. He didn’t know what was going to happen next, and that scared him.
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The morning sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow over the room. He stirred, his eyes fluttering open to a new day. His body felt heavy, his heart even more so. The events of the previous night replayed in his mind like a haunting melody.
He found you in the kitchen, a solitary figure bathed in the morning light. You were cradling a cup of coffee, your gaze fixed in the steaming liquid. Your face was pale, eyes rimmed with red. The sight of you, so vulnerable and distant, twisted his heart.
“Good morning,” he tried, he really did, his voice echoing in the silence. But you didn’t respond, didn’t even lift your gaze to meet his. It was as if he was a ghost, unseen, unheard. He felt a pang of guilt, a sharp reminder of his words last night.
“For fuck sakes Y/N.”
“You have been nagging me all these past nights to have fucking dinner and you don’t understand that I am tired.”
“God, you’re so fucking clingy and needy.”
His mind was whirlwind of thoughts. He had hoped that giving you space would help, that it would give you time to heal, time to warm up to him like you always do. But as the day dragged on, the silence between both of you grew. His phone remained silent, devoid of your usual messages.
No updates about your day, no reminders about dinner, nothing.
It was a silence that spoke volumes, and it terrified him.
Who would have thought? Ushijima Wakatoshi, the man who faced countless opponents on the court, was scared. He was scared that his actions had created a chasm between you, a distance he didn’t knew how to bridge.
As he returned from practice on the night, the apartment was dark. The usually welcoming lights were all turned off, a stark reminder of the cold silence that awaited him. He knew you would be in bed, probably feigning sleep. There would be no warm welcome, no home-cooked meal, no soft smiles.
He lingered at the door, his hand hovering over the knob. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the silence that awaited him. As he stepped into the dark apartment, he couldn’t shake off the feeling of dread that clung to him. He was walking into a battlefield, and he didn’t know how to fight this war.
The silence was deafening, a stark contrast to the noise of the world outside. He stepped in, his heart heavy with the weight of unspoken words. The sight of the shared room, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight, was a painful reminder of the happier times.
There you were, a small figure curled up on the bed, your back to him just like last night. Your eyes were open, staring blankly at the window. The sadness in your gaze was palpable, a silent cry for help that tore at his heart.
He took off his shoes, placing his gym bag in the kitchen before making his way towards you. He tried to speak, to break the silence that hung between both of you.
“How are you?” He asked softly, but his words fell on deaf ears. You didn’t respond, didn’t even acknowledge his presence.
Undeterred, he climbed onto the bed, his large frame curling around your smaller one. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer, making you face him. He kissed your forehead, your cheeks, each kiss a silent promise to make things right.
And then he hears it, he hears you crying. Tears falling like rain, burying your face on his chest and soaking his shirt. Your sobs were heart-wrenching, a testament to the pain he had caused.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. He held you tightly, as if his touch could somehow ease the pain he had caused. His apologies were a soft murmur against your hair, a desperate plea for forgiveness.
He gently lifted your face, fingers tracing the contours of your features. His lips found yours in a tender kiss, a silent vow of his love for you. He kissed away your salty tears, each one a testament to her pain, each one a reminder of his mistakes.
“I love you,” He whispered, his voice barely audible. His words were soft, filled with emotion so raw yet so powerful that it took his breath away. He repeated the words over and over, a mantra of love and regret.
Slowly, your sobs subsided. Your breathing evened out, your body relaxing against his. Falling asleep in his arms, your tear-streaked face buried in his chest. He watched you sleep, his heart aching with relief and regret.
He ran his fingers through your hair, his touch gentle and soothing. His eyes welled up with tears, the guilt and regret overwhelming him. He kisses your forehead, a silent promise etched into your skin.
“This is the last time,” He vowed to himself, his voice chocked with emotion. “This is the last time I’ll make you cry,” He promised.
He held you close, his arms a protective shield around you.
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Reblogs, notes and comments are appreciated <3
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talaok · 6 months
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Hiii, I saw you are accepting requests so I have one. Joel and the reader are married and one day they have a stupid fight but she gets really mad. Joel doesn't want to apologize and she decided to make a sex string. She starts to tease him. She starts to change clothes in front of him, she starts to use nice lingeries and put lotion on her body before go to sleep. One day Joel gives up and says sorry and then they have sex.
Sorry for writing a long request . Thank you 😊
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Warnings: sexual tension and allusion to smut
a/n: Whoever you are anon, I owe you a HUGE apology. I am terribly sorry for the wait, really, i don't know what happened, im sorry
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You weren't someone who took things personally, nor did you deem yourself touchy, but everything has its limit.
He had called you a neat freak. I repeat, a neat freak
You, his wife, who he was supposed to love and support 'till death did you part.
He had called you a neat freak just because you had(rightfully) gotten mad at him when (for the millionth time) he had left his clothes all over the bedroom floor. 
And you had (again, rightfully) gotten mad, but he (for some godforsaken reason) didn't even want to think of the possibility of apologizing.
So you had done the most reasonable thing,
You started to make him pay
Now Joel Miller was a strong man, he remained unfazed by whatever life threw at him, he was not a man who was easy to put in a difficult position, but most importantly, he was not a man who liked to surrender.
But to every strength, there's a weakness, and Joel Miller's only weakness, together with his daughter... was you
Or more accurately,
The fact that he couldn't resist, you
So when you started changing in front of him, when, at the end of the day, you stripped slowly right in front of where he was lying on the bed... when you stopped wearing shorts to sleep and started only wearing panties and the tiniest tops or one of his shirts... when you put on that sexy little lingerie you had bought as a surprise for his birthday just before bed, biting down a smirk as you watched his jaw fall slack when you propped one of your legs on the bed so you could slowly massage it with lotion...
all those times, you saw his reaction, you saw the way his eyes darkened, the way he palmed his crotch thinking you couldn't see. But even as he approached you, his hands just as sultry as his voice you had pushed him away, because he hadn't done the one thing you wanted to,
and until he was going to admit defeat and do it, he was gonna have to suffer.
But today... today as you applied lotion to your whole body, his hands felt especially good.
"hello there" he murmured from behind you, his lips already on your neck and his hands on your waist.
"If you think something's gonna happen, you're wrong Joel"
"c'mon sweetheart, you've been torturing me all week" he breathed, his hands trying to lower down to your butt before you slapped them away
"I haven't been torturing you" you corrected "You've been torturing yourself." you watched as he frowned, his eyes too busy drinking every inch of you to look into your own "If you want this to be over, you can simply apologize"
And you would have liked to be able to say that you didn't expect what he did next, but the truth was that Joel Miller was incredibly predictable for someone who knew him as well as you did.
And the truth was, that it was a miracle he hadn't caved in the first day, and now he had reached his limit. 
He was so tired, and god but he had missed you
"I'm sorry darlin'" 
You didn't even bother to hide the smug smirk erupting on your face.
"say it like you mean it" you encouraged, placing the bottle of lotion on the nightstand before turning towards him, finding him inches away from your own face.
"I mean it, I'm sorry sweetheart" he promised, his big hazel eyes only helping him out right now "I won't do it again. I apologize"
"I'm not a neat freak?"
"no" he shook his head, one of his hands going to your cheek to stroke it while the other remained on your waist "You're not a neat freak sugar, you're the most amazing wife anyone could have asked for" he murmured, meeting his lips with yours "and you're so hot you drive me crazy"
"mhh, am I now?" you hummed, a mischievous tint in your tone and in your fingers in the way they played on his chest.
"you are" he nodded, slowly pushing you onto the bed, and crawling on top of you 
A soft laugh bubbled inside your chest as you wrapped your ankles around his back "What else am I?" you murmured to his ear, as he busied his mouth with your neck
"You're always right," he said, one of his hands groping your boobs through the fire-red bra "And you're smart... much smarter than me" he groaned when you grinded up on the hard bulge probing from his boxers "ad you- you're-fuck-" his breath caught as your hand seeped underneath his underwear and freed his cock 
"What?" you asked
"You're fucking perfect sweetheart"
"mhh" you hummed happily, biting your lip as you guided him to your entrance "and don't you ever forget it again"
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rynwritesreid · 4 months
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Kiss it away| Spencer Reid
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A/N:This is my first time writing a sub Spencer, so it may not be as good as my other smut pieces. But I still hope you enjoy. This is also partially requested as someone wanted a sub!Spencer. Please tell me if you want more sub! Spencer. I’ve also started writing the first chapter of Mind Games, and honestly I’m really looking forward to posting it on here.
Summary: Spencer is suffering with a migraine, you find a natural way to help relieve his pain, with some natural analgesics.
Content: Smut and fluff. Fem!reader. Dom!reader. Sub!Spencer. established relationship/dynamic Praise kink. Handjob (M!receiving). Oral(M!receiving). Vaginal penetration (P in V). Cream-pie. No mentions of contraception. Pet names (Good boy. Sweet boy). Migraines/pain. A tiny mention of Spencers addiction(literally in passing/referencing why he wouldn’t want medication). Vulnerability. Caring reader. Use of Y/N. Suggestive ending. 18*
Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation
Spencer, the man known for talking people’s heads off and giving everyone unwanted statistics, was being unusually quiet. In fact he didn’t really seem to be all there. He kept rubbing his head and couldn’t seem to be in bright rooms for prolonged periods of time.
 
Even when you two were at home together, he wouldn’t talk much to you. Instead, he would shut himself in the spare room with the lights turned off and the curtains drawn. You didn’t know what to do, or how to help. You knew he wouldn’t want any medication, so all you could do was try and offer a helping hand.
 
Before going to work one morning, you decided to ask him if he was okay to go to work. You were sure that everyone would understand him wanting to stay home if was feeling this ill.
 
“Hey, Spencer. Are you okay? You’ve being acting off lately. Are you sure you want to go into work today? We’ve not been called out into the field or anything.”
 
Spencer looked up from his coffee, his eyes bloodshot and distant. He gave a weak smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.
 
"I appreciate your concern," he murmured, his voice barely rising above a whisper. "But I can't stay home. I need to keep my mind occupied, even if it feels like it's tearing me apart."
 
You watched him closely, the worry etching deeper lines upon your face. Spencer had always been a man of routine, finding solace in the structure and predictability of his work. But now, there was something far more sinister lurking beneath the surface.
 
"Spencer, please," you pleaded softly, taking a step closer to him. "You don't have to suffer alone. We can figure this out together. Maybe it's time to seek some help."
 
“I’ve already being to the doctors; they couldn’t see anything wrong. So, please let me go into work.” Though his voice barely crept above a whisper, you could sense the anger.
 
You sighed, feeling the weight of his frustration and desperation. You knew how much he valued his work, how it gave him purpose and stability. But seeing him like this, so lost and distant, it tore at your heart.
 
“I’m going to call in sick, handsome. Please join me in staying home today, let me take care of you.”
 
Spencer's eyes flickered with uncertainty, a mixture of gratitude and resistance fighting within him. He seemed torn between his desire to protect you from the darkness that plagued him and his fear of burdening you with his own struggles.
 
"I don't want to hold you back," he whispered, his voice trembling with vulnerability. "You deserve someone who can give you the happiness you deserve."
 
Your heart ached at his selfless words, for they only made you love him more. You reached out and gently cupped his face, your touch tender and full of reassurance.
 
"Spencer," you murmured, your voice laced with determination. "Happiness is not something I seek outside of us. It is in being with you, in trying to help shoulder your burden. Let me be here for you."
 
His eyes searched yours, tears shimmering in their depths. Slowly, he nodded, relinquishing the weight he had been carrying alone for far too long.
 
“Okay.” He whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of relief and vulnerability. "Okay, maybe staying home with you today wouldn't be such a bad idea."
You called Hotch, who was very understanding, and told him that you were both taking the day off work.
 
You closed all the curtains and kept only a little lamp on and told him to make himself as comfortable as possible. His sat down on the sofa, with his cup of coffee in hand. You decided to do some research, to see what possible ways you could help ease his pain.
 
Through your research, you saw that orgasms can help, as they act as a natural analgesic. You didn’t know if that was something Spencer would be willing to try, but you knew it was worth a shot.
 
You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of nervousness and determination as you approached Spencer. Sitting down beside him on the sofa, you gently placed a hand on his thigh.
 
"Spencer," you began softly, trying to find the right words amidst the heaviness in the room. "I've been doing some research, and I came across something that might help... It's a bit unconventional, but... orgasms can actually act as a natural analgesic. They release endorphins that can alleviate pain and promote relaxation."
 
Spencer blinked, surprise flickering in his eyes as he processed your words. You could see the wariness and scepticism etched across his face, but there was also a glimmer of hope.
 
“Would you like to try it; you don’t need to do anything. I’m going to do all the work.” Spencer's gaze met yours, his apprehension slowly fading as a small spark of curiosity ignited within him. He knew the pain that haunted him was not physical, but if there was a chance that this unconventional method could provide even a momentary respite from the torment in his mind, he was willing to give it a try.
 
"I trust you," he whispered, his voice laced with vulnerability and gratitude. "If there's a chance it might help, then let's give it a shot."
 
“Now that’s my good boy. I’m going to make you feel better, okay?” Your voice was light, soft and caring.
 
You led him into the bedroom, making sure that he would be comfortable. You slowly took of his clothes, making sure to be delicate.  You could feel the tension and anticipation building between you as each article of clothing was removed. Spencer stood before you, his naked body exposed and vulnerable. You took a moment to appreciate the sight before you, the way his gaze met yours with a mix of trust and longing.
 
With gentle hands, you guided him to lie down on the bed, his body sinking into the soft sheets. The dim light cast a warm glow across the room, creating an intimate atmosphere that felt like a sanctuary from the outside world.
 
You positioned yourself beside him, your fingers trailing delicately along his skin. Every touch was deliberate, filled with tenderness and a desire to ease his pain. Slowly, you let your hand travel lower, caressing the sensitive skin just below his belly button.
 
Spencer's breath hitched, his chest rising and falling with measured anticipation. His eyes never left yours, as if seeking reassurance that this act of intimacy was meant to heal rather than exploit.
 
“I love you, my sweet boy. I would do anything to help you. Do you understand?”
 
Spencer nodded, his voice barely a whisper. "I love you too," he replied, his words filled with gratitude and vulnerability. He trusted you implicitly, knowing that your intentions were pure and genuine.
 
As you continued your gentle caresses, your fingers slowly descended further, tracing the outline of his growing arousal. The weight of his pain seemed to lift slightly as pleasure began to replace it, inch by inch. Your touch was delicate and purposeful, seeking to provide comfort and relief rather than raw desire.
 
Spencer's breath hitched again, a soft gasp escaping his lips as your fingertips brushed over the sensitive head of his penis. His eyes fluttered closed momentarily, his body relaxing into your touch as you continued to stroke him with soothing care.
 
With each stroke, the tension in his body seemed to dissipate further. His muscles softened beneath your touch, the knots of anguish gradually unravelling as pleasure washed over him in waves. In this moment of intimacy and vulnerability, he allowed himself to let go of the weight he had been carrying. The pain that had consumed him for so long began to fade into the background, replaced by a newfound sense of relief and release.
 
You watched the transformation unfold, your heart swelling with both love and pride. This was more than just physical pleasure; it was a catharsis, a moment of respite amidst the storm that raged within Spencer's mind.
 
As you continued to stroke him, your movements became more purposeful, more focused on unlocking the pleasure hidden beneath the layers of his pain. You could feel his body responding to your touch, his breath quickening and his muscles tensing with anticipation.
 
"Let go, Spencer," you whispered, your voice laced with both tenderness and command. "Surrender to the pleasure, let it wash over you and carry away the darkness."
 
His eyes snapped open, meeting yours with a mix of vulnerability and trust. He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly as he allowed himself to fully surrender to the pleasure that enveloped him. The heaviness in his mind melted away, replaced by a blissful ecstasy that radiated through his body.
 
You continued to stroke him, your movements steady and sure, attuned to his every response. The room was filled with the sounds of his gasps and moans, mingling with the soft rhythm of your touch. With each stroke, the tension in his body unravelled further, making room for a profound sense of release and relief.
 
Spencer's muscles twitched beneath your fingertips, his body trembling on the precipice of something powerful. His breath hitched as he teetered on the edge of climax, teetered on the edge of being released from the chains of his pain. And then, with a shuddering groan, he let go.
 
His whole body convulsed as an intense wave of pleasure coursed through him, washing away the thoughts that tormented him.
 
“Oh, my sweet handsome boy, look at the mess you’ve made. I guess I better clean it up, huh? Would you like that?”
 
Spencer didn’t answer for a while, he was still coming down. As he caught his breath, he let out a “yes”. You lowered your head, making sure to give him a trail of kisses.
 
You lowered your head, pressing soft kisses along his abdomen as you made your way down to his spent cock. The taste of him was familiar and comforting, a reminder of the intimate connection you shared. With each gentle lick and suck, you cleaned him up, taking care to savour every drop.
 
Spencer's body relaxed further against the bed, his muscles loosening as a blissful satisfaction settled over him. His chest rose and fell with deep breaths, the weight of his pain replaced by a gentle calmness that washed over him.
 
“You don’t we’ve finished yet though. Do you?”
 
Spencer's eyes fluttered open, his gaze meeting yours as a flicker of anticipation danced in his eyes. The words hung heavy in the air, a promise of continued pleasure and release. He shook his head slightly, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.
 
"No, I don't think we're finished," he replied, his voice filled with a newfound sense of confidence and desire. "I want to keep going."
 
You smiled back at him, a mix of adoration and mischief dancing in your eyes. Your hand gently cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing over his bottom lip.
 
"Good boy," you murmured, your voice dripping with satisfaction. "Let's see just how far we can take this."
With a mischievous glimmer in your eyes, you leaned down and captured Spencer's lips in a searing kiss. Your hands roamed over his bare skin, tracing every dip and curve, as desire coursed through your veins.
 
Spencer's body responded eagerly to your touch, his hands gripping the sheets as he arched into your caress. His kisses grew hungrier, more desperate, as if he sought solace not only from his pain but from the world itself. There was an unspoken understanding between you, an unquenchable hunger that demanded to be sated.
 
You slowly lowered yourself back to his cock. As you worked your mouth up and down his length, your hand stroked his thigh, adding to the sensations coursing through him. Spencer's moans grew louder and more desperate with each passing moment, his body arching off the bed as he surrendered to the ecstasy that washed over him.
 
You could feel the tension building in him once again, his breath quickening, his muscles tightening. With a final stroke of your tongue, you brought him to the edge once more, guiding him over it with expert precision.
 
His release was explosive, his body convulsing in waves of pleasure. You swallowed every drop, savouring the taste as if it were a decadent treat.
 
“Do you think you can give me another?” He slowly nodded your head, as he found himself unable to speak.
 
You moved off the bed so you could undress yourself. Spencer’s eyes scanning your body, he couldn’t believe how lucky he was. With each piece of clothing that fell to the floor, Spencer's anticipation grew. He watched you undress, soaking in the sight of your bare skin, the contours of your body that held a promise of pleasure. The desire in his eyes mirrored your own, a hunger that demanded to be satisfied.
 
As you climbed back onto the bed, naked and eager, Spencer's hands reached out instinctively to touch you. Each caress was filled with longing and need, his fingertips tracing the lines of your body as if memorizing every curve.
 
Your skin tingled under his touch, and you couldn't help but gasp at the electricity that coursed through your veins. It was as if every nerve ending in your body had awakened, craving the pleasure that only Spencer could provide.
 
With a gentle push, you urged Spencer to lie back on the bed, his body surrendering to your desires. Your lips sought out his with an urgency born from months of pent-up longing and anticipation. The taste of him was intoxicating, a heady mixture of desire and need.
 
“You haven’t been able to cum yet. Please let me help you out?” His voice was cracking, his eyes pleading for you to let him do anything.
 
“My sweet boy, I told you I was going to be doing all the work. Just relax.”
 
Spencer nodded, his eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and desire. He allowed himself to sink into the mattress, surrendering control over his pleasure to you completely. You straddled him, positioning yourself just above his aching need, teasing him with the anticipation of what was to come.
 
You began to slowly grind against him, the friction between your bodies sending waves of pleasure coursing through both of you. Each movement was deliberate, calculated to build the tension and desire that simmered just beneath the surface. Spencer's hands grasped at your hips, pulling you closer, desperate for more contact.
 
But you kept your pace torturously slow, denying him the release he yearned for. Each time he tried to thrust upwards, seeking more contact, you gently but firmly held him down, reminding him who was in control.
 
"You're doing so well," you whispered as you leaned down to capture his lips in a searing kiss. "Just a little longer. I promise it'll be worth the wait."
 
Spencer's body trembled beneath you, his fingers digging into your skin as he fought against the overwhelming need for release. His eyes were glazed with desire, his lips parted in a silent plea for more. The intensity of his desire mirrored your own, and you reveled in the power you held over him.
 
With each tantalizing movement of your hips, you could feel yourself growing wet and swollen, your own need begging to be satisfied. But this moment was about Spencer, about giving him the pleasure, he so desperately craved. You would have your turn soon enough.
 
His moans grew louder, more desperate, filling the room with their raw intensity. With each passing second, Spencer edged closer to the brink of ecstasy. But you were not ready to let him go just yet. Your movements quickened, but only slightly, teasing him with the promise of release while denying him its full realization.
 
"Please," he begged, his voice thick with desperation. "I need to cum, please."
 
You smiled down at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of affection and dominance. You knew he was on the edge, his body trembling with need. But you wanted to push him even further, to take him to a place of ecstasy he had never experienced before.
 
"Patience, my love," you whispered, your voice silkily smooth. "I want to make you feel so good."
 
With those words, you increased the tempo of your movements, grinding against him with a relentless rhythm. The pleasure intensified, threatening to break through the dam of control that Spencer had managed to maintain. His breaths came in ragged gasps, his body writhing beneath yours as he fought against the mounting pleasure.
 
You leaned forward, capturing his lips in a searing kiss that swallowed his moans and pleas for release. Your tongue danced with his, an erotic ballet that mirrored the movements of your bodies. The taste of him mingled with your own desire, intoxicating and addictive.
 
With a final thrust, you felt Spencer's body tense beneath you, his release imminent. The grip of his fingers on your hips grew tighter as he surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure that washed over him. His moans filled the room, a symphony of ecstasy that reverberated in your ears.
 
As he climaxed, you continued to move against him, prolonging his pleasure until he couldn't take any more. Wave after wave of intense sensation coursed through his body, leaving him gasping for breath, his limbs limp and sated.
 
You slowly eased yourself off him, a satisfied smile playing at the corners of your lips. The sight of Spencer lying there, spent, and thoroughly pleasured, made your heart swell with pride and delight. You had taken him to new heights of pleasure, pushed boundaries and explored desires you had only dared to whisper about.
 
“When you’re feeling better, I think you should reward me for taking such good care of you. Don’t you?”
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harryslittlefreakk · 20 days
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obsessed
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summary: harry is your roommate, best friend … and crush 💃 he’s finally broken up with his girlfriend and you’re struggling to hide how you feel about him. loosely based on the song!!
warnings: none! fluffy fluff, teeny tiny bit of angst, mentions nudity
wordcount: 2.7k
a/n: i am a loud & proud olivia rodrigo stan sooo naturally i had to write something. it’s silly and cheesy and short! but i hope you enjoy!!
you can find my masterlist here and join my taglist here!! happy reading my loves 💖
“Guess who I saw today?”
“Who?” You didn’t even need to look up from your book to know Harry was about to throw himself down on the end of your bed, his coat and shoes still on. Every time you got home before him he’d bound into your room like a little labrador, too excited to see you to even drop his stuff down first.
“No, you have to guess.”
“Could’ve been anyone, H,” you told him, feigning reluctance as you closed your book and looked up at him. The second you heard his key rattling in the door you’d wait for the sound of your door bursting open, the butterflies in your stomach coming to life. But you’d never let him know that, so every day you’d pretend it was an annoyance to have him perched at your feet.
“Think of someone you really don’t like,” he persisted, a toothy grin nestled between his dimpled cheeks.
“Literally could be anyone.”
“Come on! Blonde hair, tall, pretty…”
Of fucking course. His stupid, evil, awful ex girlfriend. And naturally, the only way you could react to hearing about her was to reach over and shove him before crossing your arms over your chest. “Ow! What was that for?” Harry laughed, rubbing at his upper arm.
“I was having such a nice day. And then you have to come in and mention that.” It was massively childish, but you couldn’t help but feel violent every time you heard about her. She was fine for the most part, maybe a little too conceited for your taste, but she’d made Harry happy. But you’d watched from the outside as Harry went through relationships, and he always morphed into whatever version of himself he thought the girl would prefer. He stopped being your Harry, and your friendship would suffer for it. But you couldn’t say anything, could never treat his girlfriends with anything but a polite smile and quick conversation, unless you wanted to out yourself as a jealous little girl. And you definitely didn’t want to do that.
This time, however, the ability to hate her had been handed to you on a silver platter when she decided to go home with one of Harry’s friends on a night out. You were his shoulder to cry on, the one to make him smile again after days of moping around. So you had full permission to hate her, and you were relishing in it - as much as you could while still tiptoeing around Harry’s aching heart.
“She wants to meet for a coffee this week,” he told you, scrunching his eyes tight as he waited for another shove. When nothing came, he squinted over to see you rubbing at your temples. “Are you gonna?” you asked, brows furrowed as you imagined the two of them back together.
“Am I allowed?” Harry teased, turning round to lay on top of you, his face only inches from yours. “You’re a grown man, H. Couldn’t stop you even if I wanted to,” you told him, your voice void of any emotion.
“Dunno if it’s a good idea. She might find me too irresistible and then I’ll have to deal with that,” he grinned, not noticing the change in your face. You looked down as you felt your lip start to quiver, too proud to show how your heart sank. “I need to shower, H. Dinner after?” you asked, slipping out from under him and dragging your heavy limbs towards the door. He looked over at you with round, questioning eyes, only to be met by silence and a weak smile as you headed for the bathroom.
You barely got the door shut behind you before the tears came, hot and heavy drops rolling down your cheeks. You knew you couldn’t have Harry, but every minute spent with him had your heart breaking over and over again. Every little cuddle, every touch, lit you up with a fire that burned to the bones. But then you’d see the way he acts with a girlfriend, the way he loved someone, and all those moments you shared seemed silly and infantile. He was your best friend, nothing more and nothing less.
You sank to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest as the sobs wracked your body. You’d tried so hard to push away the feelings, to convince yourself that you were just confused and overwhelmed. He’s a friend, he’s a friend, he’s a friend, echoing around your mind. But deep down, you knew that no one could ever compare to Harry. He was yours, the only one to ever steal a piece of your heart.
“Y/n? M’coming in.” You froze as Harry’s voice came from the other side of the door, clamping a hand over your mouth to hold the sobs in. “I’m naked,” you called out, scrambling to your feet and wiping away your tears with your sleeve. But he opened the door anyway, stopping in the doorway when he saw your tear-stained face. “Didn’t even turn the shower on yet,” he muttered, glancing over at it.
“Why’re you crying?”
“M’not,” you whispered, choking out a giant sob as you turned your face away from Harry, sinking down onto the edge of the bath.
“Quite clearly are. Move,” he ordered, swatting you away before reaching to turn on the taps.
“What are you-”
“If you’re sad, I’m sad. And I like having a bath when I’m sad,” Harry shrugged, turning around to grab one of your bath bombs.
“I was gonna shower, you can’t-”, between the sobs, your confusion and the need for Harry not to know why you were crying, you could barely string a sentence together.
And when Harry pulled off his t-shirt, you were even more lost for words, left with your mouth gaping and only air coming out. “Joining me?” he asked, tipping too much bubble bath into the steamy water - something you’d have to scold him for later.
“I’m not getting in with you,” you told him, once you’d finally got a grip on your brain.
“Just get under the bubbles. And you can close your eyes when I get in.”
“No way.” You hugged your arms over your chest, drawing your swollen bottom lip into your mouth as you watched a shirtless Harry mix the bubble bath into the water. The way his muscles flexed, the tattoos littered across his tanned, slender frame. His skin always looked perfect, not Barbie doll smooth but irresistibly soft. Your fingers took on a mind of their own, slowly reaching out to touch him before he turned around with a smug grin. “Fine, go away then while I have my nice relaxing bath.”
“I want a bath,” you whispered, barely audible over the running water splashing into the tub. “What was that, angel?” Harry grinned, moving his towel onto the toilet seat. “I want a bath,” you told him, louder now, a tiny smile dancing on your lips.
Harry grabbed a hold of one of your hands, tugging you closer to the bathtub. He turned you around before pulling your t-shirt over your head, leaving you in just your little pyjama shorts. Just the brush of his fingertips against your bare torso sent chills down your spine. “M’not looking. Tell me when you’re in,” Harry told you, dropping your t-shirt to his feet.
You pushed your pyjama shorts and panties down your legs, checking behind you to see if Harry really wasn’t watching. True to his word, he had his eyes scrunched tight and his hand clenched over them. You’d seen each other in bathing suits and underwear so many times before, but being naked in the same room as Harry felt beyond weird. You’d never been overly shy about your body, especially with someone who made you feel as pretty and as comfortable as Harry did, but this would add a whole new layer to your friendship - and you didn’t know if you’d survive it. Still, you sunk into the bathtub and pulled the mass of bubbles to your end, trying to keep your breasts under the water before you told Harry he can look. “It’s really hard to make bubbles stay put, H,” you told him, screwing up your face as you tried to hold them steady.
He was laughing as he pulled his trousers and socks off, great big guffaws tumbling out every time the bubbles tried to escape your grip. “Want me to turn the lights down a bit? Then it’s harder to see,” he shrugged, nodding towards the light switch. You nodded, grateful that he cared enough to make sure you were 100% comfortable. It was one of the things that first drew you to Harry, and definitely what you valued most about him. He was always so kind, always caring, so willing to put anyone’s needs above his own - and that’s why relationships always changed him.
“Close your eyes then,” he said, mockingly holding two hands in front of his bulge. You rolled your eyes, finally starting to lighten up as the hot water washed over you. When Harry reached out to swat at your nose, you closed your eyes tight. You felt him stepping into the bathtub after a minute, his long legs slotting down your left-hand side.
“Hi,” he smiled when you opened your eyes. “Gonna tell me what upset you now?”
“It’s really not a big deal,” you told him, your voice small.
“It is if it made you that upset,” Harry countered, placing a gentle hand on your calf, his thumb rubbing against the soft skin.
You paused for a moment, trying to think of what you wanted to say and how to say it. “It just- she doesn’t deserve you, H. Anyone who hurts you like that doesn’t deserve any of your time and respect.” Your eyes dropped to the water as you spoke, your body frozen. Harry opened his mouth to reply, but as soon as he did, you needed to say more. “You were really sad, Harry. It sucked for you and it sucked for me too because I don’t like seeing you like that. I’ll always be there for you, you know that, but I can’t just sit and wait for her to hurt you like that again. Not when you know she’s capable of it.”
You watched the smaller bubbles popping one by one by one, suddenly anxious in the silence that followed your speech. You hated going against Harry, putting your two cents into something that really didn’t concern you, but sometimes he needed to hear it.
“I know,” he replied finally. “But do you think that because you don’t like her?”
“Harry, no! I don’t like her because she did that to you.”
“You were never her biggest fan,” he shrugged, his brows knitted when you finally pulled your eyes up to meet his.
“She changed you, H. You were different with her, less you. Everything is so surface level with her, it’s looks and Instagram likes and who’s got trouble with who. There’s no substance, nothing deeper.”
Harry’s thumb halted as he shook his head, his jaw clenching slightly. “It doesn’t always have to be deeper,” he sighed, rubbing at his chin with his free hand.
“I know it’s not my place but you need someone who brings out the best in you, you need-”
A bitter laugh from Harry stopped you in your tracks, your mouth snapping closed as a chuckle slipped out of his. He met your questioning gaze with a tiny smirk. “She always used to say you were jealous of her.”
You could feel the tears collect on your bottom eyelashes again as he said it, the words stinging like barbed wire sinking into your skin. How could you even respond? “Harry-” was all you could manage before your mouth ran dry.
“I don’t wanna fight with you, y/n,” he told you, his voice soft as he reached out for your hand. “Come here,” he whispered, tugging at your fingertips. “I’m- we-” you started, gesturing between your bare bodies with your free hand, eyes practically bulging out of your head. “Doesn’t matter,” Harry said, motioning for you to turn around.
Somewhat reluctantly, you did, leaning back into his body until your back hit your chest. You were exposed in every sense, your chest sitting just above the waterline and your heart on your sleeve. Harry wrapped an arm around your torso, his delicate touch careful not to go anywhere it shouldn’t.
“Truth is I probably need someone like you. Only one to make me happy on a shitty day, only one who gives me any effort,” he murmured, his voice so low that if he wasn’t speaking directly into your ear, you wouldn’t have heard him. Your heart quickened as he spoke, your pulse pounding against your inner wrists. “I’m not- I don’t have anything that she-” you choked out.
“S’a good thing, no?” Harry asked, turning his head just slightly until his lips brushed tentatively against your earlobe. “No, Harry. You need more, you need-”
“You,” he finished for you. “Just say the word and I’m yours, angel.”
It was like someone had handed you everything you ever wanted on a silver platter, all you had to do was reach out and take it. But it wasn’t that easy. If anything went south, you risked losing Harry forever. You shuffled back out of his grip, turning to sit in front of him, perched on your knees. You couldn’t even bring yourself to care about him seeing your body, your words willing themselves from your lips. “If anything went wrong Harry, I don’t want to lose you,” you whispered, blinking to keep the tears at bay.
“What would go wrong? We know we get along, we have the same traits and the same values. We’re already doing life together,” he reached out a hand to cup your cheek as he spoke, his eyes laced with nothing but earnestness.
“I don’t want to be your consolation prize.”
“Never. Never ever, I swear. I thought about it for a while but it never really clicked until now.”
You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip as Harry spoke, desperately needing to figure out if it was all a dream. The sensation of his touch, the sound of his voice, the gentle heat of the water – it all felt too real to be a dream. But a part of you couldn't shake the feeling that this moment was too perfect, too surreal to be true. You hesitated, unsure if you should dare to believe in the fairytale unfolding between the two of you.
As if he could see the cogs turning in your head, Harry dropped his hand from your cheek, entwining your fingers in yours instead. He squeezed lightly, the corners of his lips turning up into a little smile. "I'm here, y/n," he whispered. "This is real, promise." His words were a lifeline in the sea of doubt that threatened to consume you. Even if it was a dream, it was a dream you never wanted to wake up from.
“It’s all I ever wanted,” you confessed, allowing yourself to give into the fantasy for at least a little while. You fought the urge to search for the hidden cameras, check the date to make sure it wasn’t an April Fools prank. Harry was a goof, but you were a thousand percent sure he wouldn’t play with your feelings like that.
“Just say the word,” he repeated, his husky voice laced with sincerity and longing.
“I want this,” you whispered, clutching onto Harry’s hand as if you could fall off the Earth at any minute. His face erupted into a grin so cheesy that you couldn’t help but mirror it, eyes locked onto his as he closed the distance between the two of you.
Harry’s lips met yours softly, as if he were waiting for the other shoe to drop. But you melted into him, the air nearly knocked out of your lungs by the urgency and desire behind his soft movements. He pulled away after a minute, his forehead pressed to yours as he searched your eyes for any sign that you wanted to stop. Although all Harry was met with was a sparkle in your gaze, and a further few pecks landing on his lips. “Should’ve done this a long time ago,” he murmured against your mouth, his hands splaying across your back. “Should’ve done it before you got me naked,” you teased, succumbing once again to his kiss.
rrrr i really don’t know how i feel about this but i wanted to get something out
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prettygiri222 · 8 months
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Stress Relief
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summary: Armin gives the best head
Armin x Black Reader SMUT
you were beyond frustrated at this point, work pissed you off today. it was originally your day off and you were gonna spend it with your boyfriend Armin, but your boss called you in last minute because someone couldn’t make their shift. then they spent the whole day up your ass complaining about the littlest things and even getting you for being late? you almost put your two weeks in when your coworker spilt your much-needed iced coffee, she didn’t even offer to buy you a new one! you got home with tears in your eyes when your lovely boyfriend offered to help you relieve some stress.
“Arminnn” you whined out. you were at the point of tears. you and Armin have been at it for almost an hour and you haven’t had the mind-blowing orgasm you craved. you were bouncy so desperately on Armin’s dick, like a rabbit in heat. 
you should’ve been embarrassed at the state you were in: your edges were long sweated off after a long day at work, your makeup was running from your sweat and tears, your blowout was starting to frizz up, you didn’t even have time fully take off your clothes so your jeans were caught on one leg, your panty was pulled to the size and your tits were suffering from the constraints of your bra.
“c-calm down babe” Armin placed his hands on your hips to slow you down. Armin was struggling underneath you, what was once pleasure was becoming torture. unlike you, Armin had already came 2 times and was nearing his third. he was overstimulated and he was trying to hold out to help you but he was nearing his limits.
your eyes were squeezed trying to focus on building the growing feel inside your stomach missing out on the pornographic image in front of you. Armin was flushed a deep shade of pink, his lips a deep shade of red as he bit down on them trying to slow the growing feeling of his climax. his pants were around his ankles and his shirt was pulled up past his chest in your haste to get him inside you as soon as possible. 
“fuck Armin, right there!” you moaned out as you finally got him to reach the deepest part you so desperately craved. the sight of you so bouncy so desperately on his cock brought Armin to his climax faster than he wanted.
“wait babe, p-please… i can’t, i can’t” Armin whined out as you grinded into him. you finally opened your eyes to see the mess underneath you. Armin hips were jerking into you deeply despite his pleas and you knew he was close, his voice always rose an octave higher during his orgasms.
“not yet,” you were so close you could almost taste it. Armin however, couldn’t take it anymore. he was growing weak underneath you, becoming a mess of babbles and whines.
“c-cumming!” Armin went cross-eyed at how intense his orgasm took over his body, spasming on the couch. beads of sweat rolled down his forehead as he looked up at the ceiling. you however, were still going at it, chasing your climax. you looked so beautiful above him but it was starting to hurt. Armin could barely feel his dick anymore.
“I’m close ‘rin, s-so close, fuck-” you orgasmed was denied when a strong grip picked you off of your boyfriend's flushed cock. “Armin!” you cried out frustrated. that was the closest you got to an orgasm during the whole day and your boyfriend just denied you.
“you’re so fuck-” “relax, I’ll take care of you angel,” Armin said as he put a finger to your lips stopping your rant. Armin sat you back on the couch and took his place on the floor in front of you. after taking off his own shirt he finally took off your jeans and underwear before taking off your top and releasing your tits.
he took you in a slow deep kiss while he played with your nipples, twisting and pulling at them. “Armin,” you moaned out.
“i know, i know, i’ll make it better. i promise,” Armin said as he kissed down your neck leaving hickeys in his path. he slowly made his way down to your clit drawing out whines that were like music to his ears. you were already squirming underneath him and he barely did anything. “my poor baby needs this badly?” he mockingly questioned, already knowing the answer.
you could only nod afraid your voice would give out. you held on to Armin’s hair for dear life, “oh god! please don’t stop Armin, please!”
“mhm,” Armin groaned from in between your legs. one of his hands was used to hold up your leg and the other was playing with your tits. “yough tath ahmahzin” Armin didn’t bother to remove his mouth from your clit to speak. his lips latched onto your clit licking and sucking on it before he started to get messy.
you would think Armin received the most pleasure when he ate you ate the way he was moaning into you. he was spitting and slobbering into your soaking wet heat. he removed his hands from your tit and inserted them into your cunt when you lost it.
“min! f-fuck minnie, ‘m close” you could barely form a sentence Armin was fingering the sense out of you. you held his head in between your legs as you started to grind into him hard. you whined when you felt the growing feeling begin to disappear as you tensed up.
“relax.” Armin gave your thigh a quick slap before holding it up. the sight beneath you would’ve been enough to make you cum any other day. Armin looked up at you with glazed-over eyes, his bangs were stuck to his forehead and his fingers going in and out of you as he ate you out with haste.
“give it to my baby,” Armin’s other hand rubbed your thigh trying to coax your orgasm out of you. you started to squeeze around his fingers, biting your lips to stop yourself from bucking into his mouth. Armin knew you were close so he kept up his ministrations.
“min, ‘min, ‘min!” you chanted out in a trance. your vision turned white as your climax finally hit. no noise left your mouth as it was stuck in an O shape. your body was trembling now and the only thing you could feel was Armin's wet tongue going in and out of you. 
“min?” you moaned out as you came back to your senses. you tried closing your legs but his hands had a firm grip on them to stop them from closing. he kept nipping at your overstimulated clit holding you in place as you tried pulling away.
“my pretty girl, i think you can give me a couple more.”
Safe to say you totally forgot about your day at work🤭
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ameliathornromance · 2 months
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“(Y/N), I’m back.” The familiar voice echoed through the encampment.
You bolted out of your tent. He’s back, finally. The last few days had been tough on you.
With a swollen belly, sore feet, and a ferocious hunger, you had begged your Orc Boyfriend to bring you some Deer.
The initial months of your pregnancy were good. You weren’t having morning sickness; you were happy and comfortable.
Your Orc Boyfriend could not stop talking about it from the moment you found out you were pregnant.
“Yes, of course I’d like extra food. Anything for the baby.”
“Of course I’ll take those furs. My pregnant partner needs all the comfort she can get.”
“No, I’m sorry. I can’t go out for the hunt today. My love needs me to help her pick out names for our baby.”
You worried that the other members of the camp would deck your boyfriend if he continued on with it. “I know you’re happy,” you had told him as he draped another fur blanket over your head. “But if you keep this up, I’m worried that the others will sew your mouth shut.”
“Even then, they wouldn’t be able to keep me quiet.” Your Orc grinned as he tucked you into your shared bed. “I’d still find a way to tell them.”
At that, you rolled your eyes and sighed, settling into the covers.
Now you were around the 6 month mark of your pregnancy, your cravings had shot up. You wanted Deer meat. Deer consumed your every thought. Deer, Deer, Deer. Sometimes, the situation became unbearable and tears would flow uncontrollably. Your Orc did his best to comfort you: “there’ll be some more later, don’t worry my love.” He’d sooth you.
Deer were very difficult to catch. They’re quick, light on their feet, skittish. Especially if there’s an Orc approaching. You need someone who was good with a bow and arrows to kill one.
But somehow, your Orc Boyfriend had done it. He was no good with a bow and arrow, but he had done it. Your eyes raked the camp, other Orcs who spotted you chuckling at your expression.
“He’s over there, lass.” Said one, who pointed towards the dining area. “Wanted to make you something nice because you’d been suffering.”
You didn’t even thank him. You charged towards the food preparation area and found him, skinning the animal that you fiercely hungered for.
Your Orc Boyfriend spotted you walking towards him and chuckled. “Be patient,” he said to you as you leaned over his arm. “I don’t want to give you raw meat. It won’t be good for you or the baby.”
You’d take anything you could. Even if the meat was raw. But at your Orc’s gentle hand, caressing your stomach, you grumbled. But stepped back so he could cook.
Sitting on a tree stump, other Orcs passed by. Some offering you Berrys and other fruits to stave off your growling belly while you waited. Gratefully, you took the fruit from them, thanked them.
The camp was incredibly accommodating for you. Female Orcs were rare to come by. Seeing how they clashed with their male counterparts, Orc children were rare. Naturally, everyone was eager to see the baby.
Finally, the Deer was ready. Cooked on an open fire, salted and peppered, you and your Orc Boyfriend sat down together.
As soon as the meat touched your lips, it disappeared in an instant. The craving had settled as you finished your last bite. You let out a satisfied sigh as your Orc’s eyes widened at your empty plate. “Did you inhale it?” He asked, shocked.
You burst out laughing and hit him hard on the shoulder. “No! It just tasted great.” You said.
Your Orc chuckled as he caressed your shoulder.
There was a water pitcher on the opposite side of your boyfriend. You reached for it, doing your best to reach across from him. “Good, I’m glad to hear it. I was worried I’d shocked the thing. I practically had to body tackle it.” He said, taking the water pitcher and handing it to you.
As you gulped down the water from the spout, you choked. “’Body tackle it’!?”
Your boyfriend patted you on the back. Once he was sure you were alright, he replied, “yes. I had to climb into a tree and wait for one to come by the lake nearby. It was lucky the branches snapped when the deer was directly beneath me.”
“You’re not hurt, are you?” You gave a quick glance over his form. If your boyfriend had got hurt while trying to capture a Deer, you’d feel awful. The last thing you wanted was the father of your baby to get hurt.
Your Orc chuckled again and reassured, “I’m fine, don’t worry. Orcs possess of stronger endurance than humans.” He thumped his chest with a fist.
Relief washed over you. You knew he wasn’t human, but that wouldn’t stop you from worrying for his safety. “Thank you for getting the Deer. You’re the best partner anyone could wish for.” Tracing his muscular arms, you leaned against him.
Your Orc smiled back, leaning down and pecking you on the lips. “I know.” Rolling your eyes, and looked out to the rest of the camp as they went about their day, the sun setting over the surrounding forest.
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Hello everyone! I just wanted to say thank you for helping me pass 100 followers. It makes me really happy that people are enjoying my work.
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flseur · 4 months
Text
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꒰ 𐙚 memories — satoru gojo ꒱
⟡ synopsis : after a life-changing accident, yours and satoru's lives will never be the same. he's slowly beginning to forget you and soon, it will be as if your relationship never exisited.
⟡ content warning : gn!reader, angst, hurt no comfort
౨ৎ note : i've had idea in my google docs for over two years and it was originally for a genshin chara but i wanted to change it to satoru!
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when you had first heard what had happened, you hardly could believe it. some kind of weird illness that he’s suffering from after the accident. you had made it out with barely a scratch while god just continues to deal the worst hand to satoru.
survivors' guilt? no, because he’s still alive and he’s still himself, but he’s not himself.
you know that soon, instead of having love and adoration swell in his cerulean eyes, there will be nothing. not a thought about who you are, not a single memory about you.
the doctor described it as his brain resetting. he’s going to eventually lose all of his memories, including the ones before you.
everyone that knows of his condition isn’t taking it well, they’re all trying to spend as much time with him before he fades, but what about you?
you’ve never left his side since, you’ve accompanied him to every doctor's appointment, listened to all the specialists say the inevitable is going to happen and it just feels like they’re rubbing salt into an open wound.
the two of you have talked about it, terrified for the near future. years of memories that the two of you took the time to piece together like a puzzle will become one-sided. each hello, goodbye, kiss shared, spending friday nights together in your shared apartment, the hours spent together with your limbs intertwined, will all be erased.
as the months progressed, the more of satoru’s memories regressed. you both decided it would be best if he moved back in with his family, leaving you alone in a once warmth filled home to be an empty, cold shell.
initially, satoru would be the one to suggest that the two of you should visit places where the two of you have been together.
the park where you had your first date, the bookstore where you had your first kiss with each other, hiding behind the dozens of bookshelves with you giggling and satoru whispering teasing words into the shell of your ear.
eventually, the daily calls would stop. you would reach out by calling or texting and asking him if he’d want to eat dinner at the restaurant that the two of you ate at for your second anniversary and the reply would always be the same,
“sorry y/n, i’m just not up for it right now.”
the next time you called after that, there was no answer. the second time, still no answer. the third time, someone picked up.
“hey, i’m sorry but i think that you’ve been calling the wrong number.” a voice that was on the other side of the line. except there was no love in his words, no familiarity of warmth laced through his words. they were cold. empty. this was not your satoru.
“what? no? satoru, i don’t have the wrong number..”
“how do you know my name?”
“how do I know your name? satoru, we’re enga—-”
“ah, listen. i don’t know what kind of sick prank you think this is but please stop calling me. seriously, this is really uncomfortable. goodbye.”
oh.
so it happened.
he forgot.
satoru doesn’t remember you anymore. you knew it was going to happen, but you still had some sick, twisted maybe even selfish hope, that if he was going to forget everything, he’d at least be able to remember you.
unfortunately, life doesn’t work that way.
“life is unfair.” is what you thought after that moment. for months after that moment. it flooded every inch of your mind, coupled with the now one-sided memories you had with satoru.
but, you’re starting to heal, you’re starting to come to terms with it after nearly 12 months.
today, your therapist said that the next step for you should be visiting the places that you’ve been avoiding. every place that you had a memory with satoru with. so you decided that you’d visit the park.
you turn the corner to enter it and come face to face with geto.
“oh? geto? how have you been?” you ask.
geto looks around nervously, like he’s trying to search for something.
“i’ve been good, y/n. i was actually just thinking about you. let’s, uh, let’s go get a cup of coffee, it’s on me. we can catch up more there and talk about sa—-”
“suguru?”
you know that voice. the voice that had once told you that he loved you over a thousand times. the voice that would whisper you sweet nothings, the voice that caused heat to run all over your body. you freeze on the spot, already feeling your eyes sting with tears.
“whose this?” gojo asks, looking towards you. his face holds no recollection of who you are whatsoever.
“shit.” geto swears under his breath. “this is, um, this is my friend, y/n.”
“hello, it’s nice to meet you. i’m gojo, suguru’s close friend.”
you purse your lips, continuing to try and hold back tears.
“oh, i almost forgot,” satoru says.
and you look up into his eyes, with the smallest glimmer of hope that he’ll remember you. who you are, what you mean to him, the love you held for each other. god, please remember me, please.
“this is my fiancée, yume.”
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flseur © all rights reserved, do not repost, take inspo from my layouts or themes, translate, or claim as your own.
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maitanii · 4 months
Text
IT WASN'T LOVE. He wasn't in love. Ran Haitani, definitely, wasn't in love.
However, as his finger scrolled through the phone screen each night, attempting to delete some blurry photos where only the outline of a smile was discernible, laziness conveniently took hold, allowing those files to continue occupying space on the phone.
On closer inspection, you're not that pretty. He wouldn't even say you're pretty, just an ordinary girl. Those five freckles scattered across your cheeks aren't that beautiful, even though they reminded him of the constellations Rindou always points out when they travel to the countryside. The poorly painted nails, slightly bitten at the corners, are just another sign that you're a mess, although he always brings a nail file for you to use. And the small chip in your front teeth? Nothing out of the ordinary, but he was with you when the fall happened (and watched you cry yourself to sleep while holding you on the couch).
"Are you listening to me?"
"Loud and clear."
"Right." Returning to spear the fork into the salad, you made sure not to pick any tomatoes. Those were left for Ran. "When is the fight?"
"Tomorrow." Reaching for his cutlery, he began to stab at his food. "Are you worried?" he commented before starting to chew.
"Don't talk with food in your mouth, pig." Placing your face in your hands, you turned your head to look out the window.
"Okay."
The red lights from the opposite building reflected on your forehead. In just a minute, Ran had noticed you had gotten new highlights in your hair. He also spotted the small pimple that had popped up near your chin and the poorly applied concealer on it. The tension in your shoulders. And that you didn't want to look him in the eyes.
"What time is the fight tomorrow?" you asked as Ran's slender fingers played with the engraving on the fork.
Ask me not to go.
"At seven. But South always asks us to arrive earlier. Should we order dessert?"
Ask me not to go.
"Okay."
Come on, ask me not to go.
Taking his gaze away from some point on your face, he lowered his head. The ambient music in the restaurant slipped into the silence of the conversation. How could he fall in love with someone who worried about him getting hurt in a fight? Trust was the foundation of any relationship, right? Damn it.
The Mont Blanc and the cheesecake didn't last long on the table. In a fork battle, the desserts soon disappeared. Rindou had always suffered the consequences of stealing bites from his food, so why had he fought with you to accept eating the last piece of Mont Blanc?
"I have exams soon, and I'd like to get up early. Can you take me home?"
"Sure." Smiling, Ran thanked the waiter who cleared their plates (the first time he didn't thank him, you reproached him for it). "But you have to let me pay."
"No."
"Then I guess you'll have to walk home alone."
"No problem."
He sighed. Fighting was pointless. In all the years since your friendship began, you had never let him pay an entire bill. Not even when your ex-boyfriend left you and gave you several jars of ice cream could you avoid leaving some coins on a piece of furniture at his house. Or when he gave you that bouquet of flowers on Valentine's Day, and you left two boxes of chocolates on the backseat of the car.
The way back home was quiet. To no one's surprise, you chose the music, and he chose the topic of conversation. The guys from your economics class. The new mascara that didn't leave many clumps. The scholarship you had applied for months ago. He was so engrossed that he got distracted and ended up driving through several streets, prolonging the journey. Well, what a silly mistake.
"Thanks for bringing me home. And thanks for today." Raising your thumbs, you drew a slight smile on your face. "I needed to get out for a while."
"I know, you took too long to respond to my messages."
"I always do that."
"Not to an invitation to have dinner at your favorite restaurant."
"You know me so well." Pinching his cheeks between your fingers, you watched as he squinted his eyes.
Closing the car door, Ran watched as you began to search for the keys to the gate in your bag. Taking out his phone, he checked the messages he had received during dinner. Two taps on the door prevented him from replying to the meme Rindou had sent him. Your perfume once again invaded the interior of the car.
"Ran." The concern in your voice made him immediately turn his head. "I know it's a lot to ask, but please try not to go to the fight tomorrow. You can come up with any excuse and come to my house. But please, don't go."
A smile began to slowly form on his face.
He wasn't in love. But when he got home and wrote a message to South saying he had a fever, he had done it with immense joy in his heart. And when he went to bed and looked at the photos he never deleted from his gallery, he would write again in his notes the places he wanted to take you. But he wasn't in love because what he felt was beyond any of that."
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jayden-writes · 4 months
Text
fragile
pairing: Lucifer x gn!Reader
wordcount: ~1.5k
genre: hurt/comfort, angst
cw: descriptions of an injury (sprained ankle)
summary: When you sprain your ankle, Lucifer doesn't appreciate your attempt at hiding it.
other notes: no name, Y/N or MC used // based on this drawing by @sbmlamb // AO3 // thanks again to @gravedwe11er for helping me so much with this fic!
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There was no doubt in your mind that you must have been the clumsiest being in all three realms. Twisting your ankle because you simply tried to keep up with the long strides of a demon? How utterly embarrassing.
Gritting your teeth, you kept following the brother that was escorting you back to the House of Lamentation today - Satan. It seemed as though he hadn't noticed the way you were falling behind or your minor accident at all, being too engrossed in his rant about something Lucifer had done.
Despite the mixture of pain and numbness radiating up your lower leg, you managed to catch up with him, maintaining a mostly normal expression and a steady gait. Turning his head towards you, the anger drained from his features as he observed you. He took in your carefully masked suffering and how your shoulders were heaving with the effort it had required to get back to him.
“I'm sorry,” he said, slowing his pace and giving you a worried glance, “I hadn’t realized that I was too fast for you. Are you alright? It looks like you’re in pain.”
Cursing yourself internally, you racked your brain for a believable excuse.
“I… uhm… I just have a stitch in my side. No big deal,” you explained, shooting him a reassuring smile.
Satan nodded and visibly relaxed at your words, returning his attention to the path. From that point on, the walk back was spent in comfortable stillness with him occasionally glancing at you. When you reached the mansion and entered, you exhaled a quiet sigh of relief and waved goodbye, heading straight for your room as quickly as you could without putting too much weight on your foot while still walking normally. Finally inside your own space, you hobbled towards your bed, sitting down to take off your shoe and sock, which jostled your ankle, and caused you to hiss in agony. Once it was bare, your eyes widened at the sight of it swollen and bruised.
“Fuck…” you muttered and attempted to move it, which only made the pain worse.
Suddenly, there were knocks on your door, startling you.
“Oi! It’s your turn to make dinner!” called Mammon’s voice out from the other side. Right. Of course. You had completely forgotten about that.
“Give me a moment!” you yelled back and you heard him disappear again.
Sighing, you removed the second shoe too, and slipped into a pair that had a looser fit to reduce the pressure on your foot. Then you limped towards the doorway, biting your tongue to stifle the pained whimpers threatening to escape you, and opened it. Peering outside, you looked to your left and right, checking whether someone was around. Satisfied at not seeing anybody, you stepped out and silently shut the door behind you. Making your way to the kitchen, you put as little strain as possible on the ankle.
Aside from being embarrassed about your clumsiness, you also didn’t want them to worry about you or for them to start treating you as if you were a fragile thing. You weren’t. You really weren’t. You were a human and they were demons. Surely, you would be able to handle this just fine on your own, and wouldn't have to rely on one of the brothers.
It took you almost twice as long as usual to get to the kitchen, but once you did, you immediately started gathering all of the supplies you needed to prepare the meal. Still, you stayed vigilant, closely listening for any noises so you’d know when to stop limping.
What you hadn’t accounted for, however, was the practiced silence of Lucifer’s steps. You didn’t hear him arrive, rather, you felt his presence, the way his crimson gaze burned into your back. It made the hairs on your neck stand up and you whipped around to see him leaning against the doorframe, his eyes narrowed and fixed on you.
“And what exactly,” he drawled, pushing himself off the frame to saunter towards you, “do you think you’re doing?”
“Cooking dinner…?” you replied hesitantly, although it sounded more like a question than an answer. His tall figure loomed over you, and you tried your best to maintain a casual position that kept your weight off your foot.
“Is that so?” he hummed thoughtfully, scrutinizing you. “What made you think that this was a good idea in your current state?”
“Huh? Come again?”
“You are hurt, are you not?” Lucifer’s voice was calm and collected, in contrast to the displeasure evident on his face.
“I’m not, I’m totally fi-” you began, only to be cut off by him saying your name sharply.
“Do not take me for a fool. Answer me. What made you think walking around with an injury was a good idea?”
“It’s my turn to cook dinner…” was your meek reply, and he simply sighed deeply.
“Seriously. You are incorrigible. I can’t believe you sometimes. Sit down. Now.”
Reluctantly, you obeyed him. He kneeled in front of you, reaching for your ankle, and pulled the shoe off with careful motions that betrayed the ire he was exuding.
“It’s just a bit twisted. I’m sure it’ll be fine by tomorrow, there’s no need to make a big deal out of this,” you mumbled, grimacing as you watched your swollen and bruised foot become visible again.
“Twisted, you say?” Lucifer echoed, his gloved fingers delicately grasping your injured body part as he examined it. At first, it was painful, but soon a soft glow emanated from his hands, providing a cooling sensation that dulled the ache. “It is not twisted. You sprained it, if not worse.”
“Oh…” you responded quietly. “Well, that’s not good, I guess?”
“Not good…” he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. “That certainly is one way to say it. Especially considering that you have foolishly decided to keep straining it.”
Standing back up, he hooked one arm underneath your knees, wrapping the other around your back to lift you up. Your brain short-circuited for a moment as you were held against Lucifer’s chest. He was already halfway to your room when you managed to recover yourself and glanced up at his face to study his stern expression. Red eyes darted down to meet yours, and you flinched internally at the combination of anger and disappointment swirling in them, swiftly averting your gaze. Once he had entered, he placed you on the bed and made sure to elevate your ankle, then he turned to leave.
“Stay here and do not move. I will return soon,” he said gruffly, and with that, he was gone, leaving you alone. Defeated, you let your head sink into the pillow and stared at the ceiling. Eventually, the door handle was being pushed downwards, and heels clicked across the floor as Lucifer approached you, pulling up a chair to sit on.
“I will perform a quick diagnostic spell. It may cause an odd feeling, just bear with it for a minute,” he informed you matter-of-factly, and you gave an affirming hum, only briefly glancing at him to catch a glimpse of first-aid materials before looking away again. Mumbling some words under his breath, he grazed his fingertips over the swollen flesh, the leather of his gloves barely touching your skin. It was silent for a while and your foot prickled until he withdrew his touch.
“You are lucky. Nothing is broken, however, one of the ligaments is partially torn,” Lucifer explained plainly. “You will have to stay in bed and rest for at least a week.”
“A week?!” you exclaimed indignantly, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him. “You can’t be serious! What about RAD? I have a presentation in two days!”
He huffed in annoyance and shot you a glare, taking out bandages.
“You have two options: either you will stay in bed voluntarily or I will have you tied to it. So, what shall it be, hm?”
Without offering a response, you sank back into the bed.
“Good. I’m glad you’re finally being reasonable,” he grumbled and started wrapping your ankle up carefully.
Turning your head away from him, you clenched your jaw tightly when the pain that he had dulled earlier with whatever spell he had used resurfaced temporarily. Lucifer heaved a faint sigh as he took note of your stubborn stillness and your tense posture. As soon as he was done, he put a cold compress on your ankle and sat on the bed next to you, the mattress sinking under his weight. He spoke your name; you didn’t respond.
“Come on now,” he whispered, his voice much gentler now, and he stroked a hand over your hair, “I am simply looking out for you, you know that, right? You are far too reckless with your health.”
“You’re one to talk,” you retorted, and pouted, but you turned your gaze back towards him, observing his softened expression as he hovered over you.
“Don’t deflect,” he chuckled, and cupped your cheek, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I will make up for it, alright? I am going to keep you company. Does that sound agreeable to you?”
“Fine…” you breathed.
“That’s my good human,” Lucifer cooed, tilting your face up to brush his lips against yours. “Now, rest.”
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royalsweetteaa · 2 months
Text
Never too much, never too little
Pairing: Winter soldier/Bucky Barnes x reader
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WARNING - The following fic contains: Angst/Fluff, winter soldier!Bucky, memory loss, kissing, caressing, comfort, mentioned past abuse & violence, mentions of past SA towards Bucky, trauma healing, reader refers to Bucky as ‘Winter’.
Summary: You take responsibility in taking care of the winter soldier after being the first to snap him out of HYDRAs control.
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You had woken up in the middle of the early morning as you felt a tall, lurking presence in your room.
It wasn’t the first time he had done this since the day you helped him snap out of his winter soldier self.
That day, he was on the mission of capturing you, the one who the whistleblower within HYDRA had reached out to, warning about the winter soldier and the super soldier program in Syberia. You were a journalist, and the person who had reached out was someone you were familiar with.
Although you wouldn’t call them a friend, especially after the danger they would put you through as your identity got leaked.
You were expecting him to come after you sooner or later. And he did.
As the Winter Soldier had broken into your room and was about to take you, you thought of what you had read upon from the Whistleblower’s documents, and you got his attention when you said you knew all about what they had done to him. He stood there, trying to stay resistant and cold as you told him you knew he didn’t want to do this. That you knew he was forced to, and that he didn’t have to keep up with it anymore as you would help him.
Still, he stuck to orders as he turned angry and frustrated, and he gripped your arm as he told you ‘you don’t know what you’re talking about’.
Although, it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself that you didn’t.
As he held your arm tightly and was about to pull you out to his vehicle, you wrapped both of your arms and hugged him. He was shocked to say the least, not sure what to do. He pushed you off harshly as he threatened to kill you if you didn’t comply to him, but you went right back and wrapped your arms around him as you kept talking and pleading.
“You don’t have to suffer anymore or take abuse. What you have done this far isn’t your fault. I know what they did to you. Just let me help you. I can get you out of this, I promise. Let’s get out of this together. Please!”
It seemed like he had really tried to resist as he kept his hand on his gun, but his arm was trembling. As you saw that, you gained the tiniest bit of hope that you weren’t going to die today.
Miraculously it worked. The Winter soldier was brought down on his knees, his body becoming heavy as he slouched against you, allowing himself to let you embrace him. You didn’t stop as you kept whispering reassurances that you would help him be free from them. Free from whatever control they had in him, both physically and mentally.
And that is how you found yourselves in a cabin you had inherited, far within the woods of the mountains. Weeks had gone by as you had kept to yourselves far away from society. HYDRA was as much after you as their lost super soldier, and therefore you depended on bringing in supplies from the forest. It proved to be easy with an assassin who knew to hit his targets efficiently, regardless if it was a person or animal.
While you were working on figuring out how you could spread the classified information without compromise, you tended to the former winter soldier.
You didn’t know his name, and neither did he as he suffered memory loss from the countless wiping HYDRA performed on him. Therefore, you settled on a nickname for now: ‘Winter.’
Out of all their troubles, the early mornings turned out to be the hardest things to deal with. Because as the former winter soldier would stay alone in his room all night, trying to sleep through his terrible nightmares, his habits from HYDRAs brainwashing would return mildly.
That was why as you had woken up feeling that same lingering presence, you were not surprised to see the man standing there, staring at you as if he was on guard.
“What are you doing?” You ask.
His eyes narrow slightly as he considers your question. He shrugs as he replies, “Waiting for you to wake up,” as his voice remained emotionless.
That would be one of the first signs.
“Alright….how did you sleep?” You ask him as you remain calm.
He tilts his head slightly, analyzing your question. “As well as can be expected.” His tone remains flat, unrevealing anything about his thoughts or feelings. “You?” he asks, his gaze fixed on some distant point behind you.
You nod slightly as you answer, “I slept just fine.” You chew the inside of your cheek as you decide to test him, now unsure where his state of mind was. “want to come closer for a second?”
His eyes narrow even more. “Why?” his voice is now cold and unyielding, betraying no emotion whatsoever.
So it was as you thought … no different than some of the previous mornings.
“Because I want to give you a morning hug.” I decide to pull a welcoming smile at him as I pat the empty spot beside me on the bed. “Remember when I told you yesterday that it could be a good exercise to keep some consistency in your memory?”
He hesitates for a moment before slowly walking over to you. When he's close enough, he stops and looks at you warily. “A hug.” He says, as if it’s an unfamiliar concept to him.
You frown as you realize you’re loosing him again. “I gave you one yesterday, didn’t I? You said it felt nice.”
His expression remains unchanged as he stares at you. It looks like he’s not sure how to react, or even if he should. “I don't recall.”
You take a deep breath as you realize you need to take it from beginning. “Winter…do you remember why you’re here?”
He tilts his head slightly, the movement almost robotic. “I am here to carry out orders. To serve those who control me.” His gaze remains focused on you, but there's no sign of recognition or comprehension in his eyes.
You refrain from exhaling out of frustration as you don’t want to come off as someone who lacks patience. Especially when he’s like this. “no, that’s not it…Winter, listen to me.” You stand up and approach him carefully as you caress his face with sorrow in your eyes. “You don’t have to take orders from anyone anymore. Don’t let them control you. You’re here, with me. You’re safe,…just…please…” you plead with your voice, hoping he will snap out of it again soon enough.
His cold gaze softens slightly as he looks at you, seeming to process your words. For a moment, a flicker of emotion surfaces within his eyes before quickly disappearing. “I will not disobey.” He replies sternly as he moves his gaze to the side.
You don’t give up that easily as you caress his face tenderly. “look at me..what is my name?”
He hesitates for a moment, his mind struggling to recall that information. “I...I don't remember.”
“Yes you do, Winter…go on, say it. I know you can.” You don’t stop caressing his cheek as it seems to soothe his glare, turning into a look of vulnerability.
His face twitches just then, a sign of internal conflict as he struggles to obey his programming. After a few seconds, he finally speaks, “Your name is... Y/N.”
You smile gleefully as he finally recalls, “that’s right…you’re with me, in this cabin…where we are safe. you don’t have to follow orders anymore…you’re okay…” you hold around him tightly as you keep whispering reassurances.
The super soldier’s muscles tense under your touch, but he doesn't resist. “Y/N... It feels strange not following orders.” His voice is barely above a whisper, revealing just how unfamiliar this feeling of freedom is for him.
“I know…” you murmur with understanding, “I know it’s hard for you to fight it but we will keep working on it, alright?” I pull away to look at him as I ask, “you remember now how you got here, right?”
He nods slowly, still unsure of himself. “Yes…”
“how did we meet?” You ask him to test his memory once again.
He frowns slightly, trying to recall the details of their encounter. “We met during my mission... I was sent to capture you, but something happened. I couldn't bring myself to do it.”
You nod encouragingly “that’s right…that’s exactly how it went…” you then proceed to rub his back soothingly as you continue, “and do you recall me giving you a hug yesterday?”
He nods slowly, his expression still unsure. “Yes... you hugged me. It felt strange.”
You nod once again, “that’s okay…I know it’s not something you’re used to…” you hold his metal hand gently.
His eyes widen in surprise as you touch him, though he doesn't pull away from you. "Do...do not..." He says softly, trying to find the right words to express what he truly feels. It’s as if the winter soldier in him is trying to protest with a last effort, but luckily it doesn’t win this time. Instead, he closes his eyes tightly and leans into your embrace instead.
You smile fondly as you pull him into your embrace, “do you remember what I used a wet cloth for yesterday?”
His eyes almost snaps open as he recalls the memory. It’s as if the last puzzle of memory is finally placed inside his head. “You used a wet cloth to clean up my face. Because I got dirty while hunting.” He answers quietly, still leaning against you.
You nod once again proudly, “that’s right… see, you’re recalling everything so quickly now…” you stroke his shoulder gently as you allow him to keep leaning on you. “Do you want to stay like this for a while?”
He sighs and nods slowly, feeling more comfortable now that he has been allowed to remember things like this without fear of punishment or retaliation. "Yes." He replies quietly.
You lay down on the bed as you hold out your arms to welcome him into your embrace. He lays down beside you, wrapping his metal arm around you and resting his head on your chest. "Thank you..." he whispers, as he finally feels some peace in his mind. You whisper in return a sweet ‘you’re welcome’ before you continue taking a nap together.
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That very same day, hours after that incident had occurred, you found yourself sitting in the living room, reading one of the many old books that had been stored untouched on the book shelf of the cabin.
The super soldier hadn’t stopped looking at you from the other couch as you tried to read in peace, until you finally broke the silence to ask, “Is something on your mind?”
He sits up and turns towards you as he asks, “Do you think we could... try something different?”
You look up from your book and ask softly, “try something different?”
He stands and turns towards you, his eyes burning with a fire that you've never seen before. “We could... have sex.” His voice is cold, devoid of any emotion other than the barest hint of curiosity.
Your eyes widen with surprise, unsure if you heard him right. “Excuse me?”
“I said we could have sex.” He repeats himself with the same uncaring tone.
You stare at him with only one word to ask, “why?”
He shrugs and looks down, finally seeming like he’s carrying some shame for even asking. “I just…I’m in a lot of pain right now…and sex is the only thing that’s eased it in the past. It has made me forget.”
“Why would you think that it could ease pain?” You ask, not understanding how he has had experience to make that conclusion while being the winter soldier.
His eyes closed tight just then as he thinks back to what you could only imagine being horrific memories. “I know because…they used me...for their own pleasure…”
Your lips part in shock as you can’t help but ask, “who?”
“The men…who kept me in order.” He swallows as he speaks, “When I wasn’t out on missions, they would…do that…as one of many tactics to keep me submissive to them…”
You lean in to hug him without further explanation, still processing this new piece of information. You knew they had been cruel to him, but you didn’t think they went beyond mental and physical torture. “Winter…I’m so sorry you were violated that way…but having sex with me won’t do any good…you need to heal in other ways…you can’t use trauma to heal trauma.”
“I know, but it's all I have. I’m sorry,” He sighs heavily as he buries his face in your shoulder. "It's just hard...to feel anything else."
“it’s not…” you assure him. “can’t you feel the affection I’m giving you right now?”
He hesitates for a moment before pulling back slightly to look at you. “I...I can feel it,” he admits softly, his expression still uncertain. “But it's not enough. The pain is too loud…”
You hold his face in my hands as I murmur, “what if I kiss you? Do you think that would give you any relief?”
You knew it was probably inappropriate to suggest it, given you two had only known each other a few weeks, but it was out of innocent intent that you suggested it. To see if it could bring any positive emotion to the winter soldier.
He stares at you for a moment, before he finally nods. "Alright," he says softly, his voice little more than a whisper.
“Are you sure? Do you truly consent to that?” You ask, needing further affirmation.
He nods less hesitantly now, “yes, I’m sure…”
You lean in, your lips finally meeting his. His lips are soft against yours as he tentatively returns your kiss. For a moment, there's a spark of something familiar—a flash of emotion that he can't quite place.
The kiss remains simple, yet soft and sweet before you pull back and search his eyes, “How was that, Winter?”
He blushes lightly, still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that he had just shared an intimate moment with you. “..It was nice,” he replies quietly. “very nice...” he adds.
You smile warmly at his reply as you can tell he seems much more relaxed. “Do you want another one?”
“Another one sounds...nice,” he says softly, his voice trembling slightly now.
You frown a little at that, not wanting to push him. “Are you sure? because one can be more than enough too…”
“No, it's alright,” he murmurs, his heart racing in his chest. “Another one would be...nice.”
You lean in again at his positive reply. The kiss deepens slightly, and he feels a shiver run down his spine. He's not sure what it is about this moment that feels so different from all the others—the ones where he was just being used for someone’s release.
You pull away and ask once again, “how was that?”
He takes a deep breath, looking at you shyly. “It was...good,” he answers quietly, his cheeks still red from embarrassment. “...Can we have more?”
You nod, a feeling of fondness overwhelm you as you continue sharing gentle and innocent kisses with the former winter soldier.
His gaze remains locked on yours as his lips move against yours, savoring every second of it. After a few moments, he finally breaks off the kiss and stares at you with wide-eyed wonder. “…More?”
You giggle softly as you nod and lean in to kiss him again. It remains pure and affectionate, the way it should be for now.
He takes another deep breath, trying to calm himself down. The warmth of your lips against his feels almost too much, but he doesn't want it to stop. “.... more.”
You pull away once again after a few kisses, looking deeply into his eyes as you make sure he’s alright. And boy does he seem to be doing just fine.
“More...” he whispers, a tremor in his voice betraying his eagerness. He reaches up to caress your cheek, fingers trembling as they graze over your skin. “Please...”
It was as if you had opened a new gate for him that day. A gate where he became aware of pure affection being the most healing thing to his soul after witnessing and going through hell.
He already knew he could never get enough of it from you, no matter how your relationship would move forward.
“How do you feel now, Winter?”
“… I feel alive.”
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N/A: I wrote this in the middle of the night because I felt very inspired to. 😅 it’s been like months since I’ve posted any fics, so I know it’s out of nowhere but I hope you enjoyed reading it anyways.
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that-basic-simp · 2 months
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Mama
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Mizu x Fem!Reader CW: None WC: 1.1K A/N: Not really a fan of the "mommy" kink, but something about Mizu saying "mama" in episode 5 always and still gets to me.
Her hot breath tickled against my earlobe as she rested her head on my shoulder. A smile could be heard as she looked down at the baby that was swaddled up in the same cloth she had when she was young.
"How ya doing, mama?"
A shiver went down my spine as she said that. She has only ever really called me that after I gave birth to the baby. I was afraid she would leave once she found out, but she understood the situation. As she was in a similar one when she was a baby. And she didn't want me to suffer with raising a baby alone, even if she wasn't the best when it came to kids.
"I-I'm doing fine, Mizu," I said.
"Did that get ya?" she snickered darkly, wrapping her arms around my waist.
"You know how it makes me. Especially when you say it like that."
"Like what? Like this, mama?" she lowered her voice, tucking her head into the crook of my neck, lacing the skin with her soft, sweet, and gentle kissing.
"M-Mizu," I breathed out.
"Go lie down. I can take care of her."
"A-Are you sure?"
"Yeah. Ringo should be back soon so he can help me entertain her."
"She needs to be put down for a nap though."
"Then the three of us can sleep together."
"Are you sure? You don't need to train today? Taigen isn't going to show up uninvited and prompt you for a duel?"
"He's with Akemi today. Besides, that man is on a losing streak."
"Shouldn't that drive him to want to get back at you?"
"Not as big as his sex drive right now," Mizu said.
I shook my head, "Of course."
"Come on," she tugged at my waist. "Let's get you to bed."
I walked into the shared bedroom we had and I sat down, rocking our little one to sleep. Of course it wasn't blood related to Mizu, but that wasn't stopping her from helping me with the parental duties.
"Ah, she's getting fussy," I sighed.
"Here, let me hold her."
I carefully handed her to Mizu and she cradled the baby close to her. While she was rocking the baby, her body started to sway while she began to sing a lullaby. This was another rare moment for us. When Mizu actually sang. It was a bit rocky at the beginning, but after some time of humming and thinking she was singing alone, she got better at it. And it was enough to not only put the baby to sleep, but me to sleep. Finding myself swaying here and there, I laid down and Mizu carefully placed the baby in between the two of us. Leaning over, she pressed a kiss to my forehead.
"Sleep well, Y/N."
Blinking my eyes open, I found Mizu and the baby were gone from the bedroom. Yawning, I sat up and stretched, getting up and walking into the kitchen. Ringo was here and he was making something while Mizu held the baby in her lap. The baby was reaching up, grabbing at Mizu's face here and there. I chuckled and walked over to her, sitting beside Mizu.
"A-Am I doing this right?"
"Doing what right?"
"This whole parenting thing?" Mizu asked. "I-I'm not really great with kids. People in general."
"I think you're learning, Mizu. You're doing well for someone who was practically shunned your entire life."
"I-I just don't want her to be like me," she said, taking note that the baby had blue eyes like herself.
"But she is loved by her mothers," I smiled at Mizu. "Even if she is more like you than you think."
"I just don't want her to be made fun of for being a half-breed."
"And if she is, I know her mother, well, her father will come after those kids and teach them a lesson."
A small smile crept onto Mizu's face, which the little one stood up in her lap and grabbed at her mouth.
"A-A little help here."
I chuckled and reached over, grabbing the baby and putting her in my lap. She grabbed at Mizu, in which she offered her hand to the little one. Grabbing onto Mizu's hand, she held it tightly in her small hand.
"Baby's do have a strong grip for as young as they are," Mizu said.
"They just want to make sure their parents don't leave them. These are their crucial years along with their childhood."
"Do you think we're going to be alright?" Mizu turned towards me.
"I don't know if I am going to be honest. But," I turned and faced Mizu. "There's no one else I'd rather do this with."
"There's someone better. A man. A man would have been better."
"But no man would want their child to be impure, as they would say. A half-breed. They'd leave the child at a brothel and hope that the women there will take her in. Or worse, they'd kill the baby. And all life should be cherished and taken care of."
"Even a monster's life?"
"You know how I feel about that word. You're not a monster, Mizu," I reached over and placed my hand on her cheek, caressing her soft skin. "You're simply Mizu. Nothing more and nothing less than the person I fell in love with."
A smile crawled onto her face as I leaned towards her, placing my forehead against hers. Pulling away, Ringo handed me a small bowl that had a white mixture in it. Making sure the baby was calm and the mixture wasn't too hot, I placed the bowl against her bottom lip, but she was squirming.
"Here," Mizu reached over and grabbed the baby, setting her down in her lap. "I'll keep her steady."
"Thank you, Mizu."
"Of course, Y/N."
After we finished feeding her, Ringo watched after for a bit while Mizu and I were outside, sitting together in the back yard of the house. My hand was resting on hers and my head was resting on her shoulder. Her head was leaning against mine and she'd occasionally turn and look down at me, making sure I was still awake. Smiling, she loosened her body and sank down a bit in posture. Getting an idea, I turned and laid down, resting my head on her lap, looking up at her.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting a better look at you, Mizu."
"Isn't there an angle that makes me look less appealing?" she asked.
"No. They all make you look attractive. Especially when I am under you."
Some blush crawled onto her cheeks as she turned away from me, to avoid my gaze. I giggled, closing my eyes and turning to where my face was in her stomach.
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empresskylo · 9 months
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beneath the mask ✩ chapter 3 ⬅ch. 2
➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠CHAPTER TAGS | afab!reader. kinda mean!ghost. wc 2.5k. ➠AUTHOR'S NOTE | i do not have a tag list.
𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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the following week involved you being the only medic on base and having to treat every soldier on your own; briefing sessions with soap; a few awkward run-ins with ghost; and a shit load of anxiety.
you couldn’t get over the fact that you were about to walk side by side with the most dangerous men in the world on the most important mission you’ve ever been on. soap was acting like it was no big deal—they do this kind of stuff all the time, he had said. you had to remind soap that you were new to this division and weren’t exactly a skilled killer like the rest of the men. you were used to helping wounded men when they were carted back to base, not being in on the action.
“soap,” you whined as the larger man refused to let you take a break from your current training match. “i wasn’t built for this,” you said dramatically, collapsing on the mats beneath you. 
soap chuckled, his hands resting on his hips. “i’m just tryin’ to prepare ya. ghost isn’t gonna go so easy on you.”
“ghost?” you asked, sitting upright–a bit faster than someone who wasn’t constantly thinking about their lieutenant would.
soap stuck a hand out and grabbed yours, heaving you up to stand before him again. 
“ghost insisted on makin’ sure we all met his standards.”
you knew this was about you and gaz specifically, even if he didn’t say it. these men were already the best of the best, that's how they got recruited into this task force. but gaz being recently hurt, and you not coming from a combat background, was probably plaguing his thoughts. 
“oh, wonderful,” you said sarcastically. you were almost positive soap was oblivious to your weird dynamic with ghost, but you couldn’t be one hundred percent certain; soap’s perceptiveness could surprise you sometimes.
you downed your water and stretched a bit more waiting for your imminent doom. 
gaz approached you, his arm outstretched over his head. 
“how’s your hand?” you asked him.
gaz released his stretch with a satisfied grunt and then held up his now unbandaged hand, smiling. 
“and your ribs?”
“still a bit sore. just glad they’re not broken.”
you smiled. “just don’t go too hard training today, okay?”
gaz mock saluted you. “yes, doctor.” you rolled your eyes. 
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gaz had pulled you into a sparring match, trying to get your reflexes to actually function properly for when you’d be out in the field with the men.
you growled in frustration as gaz got another killing blow lined up. 
“dead. again,” he said with a laugh. 
“glad you find my suffering entertaining.” 
you felt your body tense and you knew that ghost had just strolled into the training room. you had a weird way of sensing whenever he was around. it was like he made the air thicker of any room he walked in to.
you tried to keep your focus on gaz. he grabbed your hands and helped you adjust your hand wraps that were starting to loosen around your knuckles. your eyes flickered over gaz’s shoulder and you spotted him.
his eyes were already on you and you felt your blood pressure drastically rise. you immediately looked back to gaz and tried to pay attention to what he was saying to you. 
“ready to go again?” he asked when he decided your hands were wrapped properly. you nodded.
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after what felt like an eternity, ghost appeared beside the two of you, observing as gaz was in the process of showing you a new defense move.
gaz reached around you with his foot, knocking you off balance and sending you colliding with the mat. 
“jesus,” you mumbled, both amazed and annoyed with him. 
gaz chuckled and reached out a hand to help you up. you were impressed at his composed and collected attitude knowing what was about to happen in a few days' time. you, personally, couldn’t get your heart to stop racing worrying about everything that might go wrong. 
you ignored ghost’s eyes on you as gaz tried to demonstrate the move he just did once again. 
you attempted everything he showed you, repairing the order of the stances in your head as you executed each one, and you sent him flying on his back. 
“shit, nice job,” gaz praised. 
you helped him up when a looming presence from behind you startled you.
“oh!” you jumped, looking up at ghost who was only inches from your chest. “hi, lt.”
ghost was wearing one of his thinner balaclavas again, paired with a long-sleeved black shirt–that disappointingly didn’t have its sleeves rolled up to show off his tattoos–and dark tactical pants. he was a new level of intimidating without all his gear on. you felt like your body was going to melt from the heat he was putting off.
“she’s never gonna learn like that,” he grunted out, directly his words at gaz but holding your gaze. 
you knew gaz was letting you knock him on his ass, but how else would you understand the basics of the moves he was teaching you? if he blocked you and went on defense every time you went to try, you wouldn’t be able to learn anything. gaz had years of training on you.
gaz mumbled something about taking a break and you began to panic. shit.
“open your legs,” ghost demanded. 
a sudden blaze of heat raced up your chest and to your face. your eyes must have turned to moons because ghost’s foot jutted out to kick between your own and widen your stance as if to tell you to get your head out of the gutter.
you adjusted your feet and felt gaz slip off behind the two of you. 
just you and ghost now. great. 
“your waist feeling okay?” you asked, pointing towards the area of his wound from the week prior. 
he nodded. “good as new.”
“good. that’s good,” you said awkwardly. 
you both looked at one another, your cheeks warming, before ghost cut you out of your daydream. “arms should always be at the ready.” 
you lifted your own and did as he said, mirroring him, and taking on a solid but readying posture.
“now, try to hook your leg behind my own.”
you nodded, the heat from earlier subsided just to be replaced with the rushing sound of your heart beating in your ear. you prayed ghost didn’t have super hearing, but you wouldn’t put it past him.
you dipped down slightly and tried to get your leg to wrap behind ghost’s, aiming to knock him backward. 
before your foot even made it where you wanted it to go, ghost had spun you around and sent you stumbling back. 
“again,” he demanded. 
you took in a breath before approaching back up to him and going at it again. 
he blocked your attack and you tripped over his feet and fell to the mat. 
“again.”
you felt the sweat bead on your forehead, out of both anger and exertion.
and again he knocked you back. 
“this isn’t going to help!” you finally said, a scowl on your face. 
“don’t like bein’ pushed? think any of those men out there will give a damn about that? think they’ll give a shit that you’re just a medic?”
you let out an irritated breath. “i just don’t think training me like this will get me anywhere.”
“oh, and how would you like t’be trained then?”
you stared at him in silence. 
“should i let you tackle me to t’ground?” his voice was deeper than earlier, sending shivers up your spine. “is catering to your ego that important you’d risk your life?”
“this has nothing to do with my ego.” your voice felt faint as you struggled to come up with an argument. you were frustrated, sure. but he was right in a way. any bad guy you cross out in the field isn’t going to give a shit that you’re a medic and not a trained soldier. and you did not want to fucking die. 
“no? then go again.”
you brushed off your pants and readied your stance, going at him again. in an agile ebbed movement, you went flying to the ground. again.
you propped yourself up on your elbows and glared at him. frustrated beyond belief, and exhausted from already training for hours today. you did something you wouldn’t have normally done if you weren’t so peeved off. you sprung to your feet and rushed into him. ghost caught your hand but you spun around behind him, making him grunt as your foot collided with the back of his knee. 
he bent forward and you jumped onto his back. he had to release your hand in fear of choking himself out. ghost was so caught off guard that he sank to his knees. you caught your breath, still clinging to him. you may not have got him to go all the way down, but still, you managed something. 
“now if you’ll–” ghost cut your words short, shifting his weight so you slid sideways and he grabbed your waist and sent you sprawling out before him. before your back hit the mat, you grabbed his shirt, yanking him downward with you. his hands caught himself on either side of your head, his hips between your legs, his torso almost touching yours as you breathed heavily. 
ghost’s eyes bore into yours as he loomed over you. heat rushed to your face as you felt his hips pressing against your own, trapping you below his impressive weight. your hands were still tied up in his shirt, your heart racing out of your chest. 
“that hurt,” you mumbled.
“it was supposed to.” his voice was far softer than you’ve ever heard it before as if you stole the breath right from his chest. goosebumps immediately covered your arms and you hoped to the gods that he didn’t notice. 
you were at a loss for words as he held his position. “now how will you get out of this, pet?” he provoked. 
devoid of logic, you bucked your hips up against him, trying to wrangle your way free. ghost essentially growled above you, sending fluttering vibrations through your chest. you tried to roll out from under him, and if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought he let you. your positions quickly changed as you used all your muscles to turn him on his back. you straddled him, heaving again at the amount of force you had to exert to move his body.
your hands were resting on his chest and you felt your entire body go hot. there was no way you were straddling ghost, sitting right above his belt, your hands pressed flat against him, and his hands… his hands loose on your hips, edging towards your thighs. 
in pure embarrassment you quickly stumbled off of him, not even offering to give him a hand to stand back up. 
you thought for sure he would call it a day, probably irritated at you getting so close. those were definitely not proper techniques you executed back there. 
to your surprise, ghost grunted, stood, and mumbled, “again.”
you couldn’t help the displeased groan that left your lips. “ghost, please. i’ve been doing this all morning.”
he didn’t like the way his chest tightened momentarily at the sound of you begging him. 
he could see the exhaustion on your face. in a sort of compromise, he wanted one more spar. he slid the knife from his holster on his thigh and caught it expertly in his fingers. “unarm me,” he demanded. 
you looked at him with hesitation. “if ya unarm me, y’can be done for the day. i won't even fight back.”
something painful echoed in your chest. you just wanted to get away from him. why was he dragging out your time together? he didn’t even like you. he should just tell price they couldn’t risk taking you along on the mission. 
you mentally groaned and slowly stepped closer. ghost readied his stance. 
you darted to the left and he deftly blocked you. 
then you ducked down, coming up on the side he held the weapon and his arm stopped yours. you grunted before slipping around him and shoving him back. he stumbled a few steps and you dodged his arms. 
ghost spun to meet you, grabbing your wrist with his free hand, both of you stumbling so your back collided with the wall. 
with heavy breaths, ghost pinned your arm beside your head. your other hand struggled, but you managed to grip his knife and fling it out of his hand, sending it rattling on the hard floor away from you two. 
ghost’s hips were almost against yours, his body trapping you against the wall. your head clouded with so many unwanted thoughts about his chest pressed against your own. the way his body traced yours like a phantom.
“next time, try to hold on to the weapon you disarm. because now, you’re defenseless. and hate to break it to ya, but you against any man of my size, unarmed… you’re dead.”
your mouth hung open slightly as you caught your breath. you could feel ghost’s ungloved hands lingering by your waist. you nodded, unable to speak as you felt his fingers fluttering against your skin where your shirt began to ride up. it was almost like he was purposefully trying to touch you. 
your eyes flickered down to where his hands were and ghost immediately backed away. he gave you one look over and went to pick up his knife. 
“enough for today,” he grumbled, a tensing sense of aggravation filling the air. 
you straightened your clothes out, walking back onto the mat. “so that’s it?”
ghost turned in a way that made it look like he was forcing his body to move. “need me t’tell you how good of a job you did? pat you on your back and tell ya you’re gonna be fine next week?”
you glared at him. “no. i just–”
“you won’t. you’re gonna get yourself killed out there.” you sucked in a sharp breath at his words. you watched as his eyes avoided your own. “be back here tomorrow to train more with soap.”
you nodded even though he wasn’t looking at you. he hesitated another moment, almost like he was debating on saying something else, but then he turned and left you alone. 
you sank down onto the mat, sprawling out backward and breathing deeply. your body was sore and throbbing from all the collisions you took today. 
fuck. you had one chance to prove to ghost you were capable. that price trusting you to come along was the right choice. but you just made a fool of yourself. and ghost thought you nothing more than a weak link in their unit. you were going to get them all killed. 
you closed your eyes, a tear sliding down your sweat-stained cheeks.
chapter 4 ➡
967 notes · View notes
azzo0 · 2 months
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Pickpocket
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Summary: You often pickpocket people in hopes of finding a silver or two. You land a jackpot, but the person you've recently pickpocketed from happens to be Prince Bakugo.
Pairing: Bakugo x f!reader
Part 2; Part 3
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Every now and then, Prince Bakugo liked going undercover in a cloak and a piece of cloth covering the lower half of his face. He enjoyed going to the marketplace without people cheering, bowing, scurrying away and staring at him. He felt more free this way.
He took his time passing by the stalls, Kirishima following not far behind to make sure the prince was safe. Although Bakugo preferred to spend his time in peace and quiet, sometimes he liked the chaos of the weekend market. Vendors shouting slogans of drop in prices, confectioners shoving sweets into his hands in hopes he'd buy some, old ladies fighting each other over who picked up the pumpkin first, kids running around and crashing into his legs. Bakugo loved watching it all unravel from the background instead of being the centre of attention. 
His favourite stall was the one selling artefacts and used items. If it was his lucky day, Bakugo would be able to buy a rare stone or an ancient dagger. Once he even found a dragon tooth from that stall. He stood by the stall, eyes skimming through the items the old man had available. Seemed like he didn't have anything eye-catching today. 
He was about to step away to leave when someone bumped into his chest. He looked down to see you tear your face away from his chest and step away to glare daggers at him. Bakugo took a moment to let your features in, his eyes darting up and down your figure once. He could tell you weren't exactly from the richest part of the city with your tunic that was losing its colour. It must've been a navy blue colour when it was brand new. He noticed the assortment of knives sitting on your waist. Maybe you were a hunter's daughter?
"Watch where you're going, you old man!" You hissed at him. Bakugo was taken aback. You were the one that bumped into him, and now you were telling him to watch where he was going and had the nerve to call him an old man? Hillarious.
"I ain't the one that bumped into you," he scoffed. "And we're the same age, sweetheart." 
"Well, too bad you look like a creepy old man covered up like that." You snorted. Bakugo's eyes lingered on your face, amused. Were you snarky like that all the time? Did you have any idea that you were talking to the prince? 
"You don't know who yer talkin' to, brat." Bakugo leaned by the stall, a devilish smile under his mask as he watched you roll your eyes skywards. 
"Oh, yeah? Don't go around pretending like you're some prince." You sneered. Bakugo couldn't help but snicker. If only you knew. He let you purposely bump into his shoulder as you walked past him, his head turning in your direction. Now, he was going to make sure to come here again next weekend so he could catch a glimpse of your bratty face.
"Ready to leave?" Kirishima asked, now standing beside him. 
"Yeah." 
On their way back to the castle, Bakugo found a boy sitting on the dirty roadside with a cup in front of him. Despite how fast the country was recovering from war, there were still people suffering from its aftermath. His hand reached into his pocket, searching for his coin bag. He frowned when he didn't feel it in either of his pockets. 
"What's wrong?" Kirishima asked.
"Lost my coin bag," Bakugo tried recalling where he might have lost it. He didn't make any purchases at the market, so he didn't take it out. There weren't any holes in his pockets either. Then he smirked, remembering you bumping into him. It was odd how he standing by the stall, and you still bumped into his chest. 
"That damn brat." He didn't need to visit the weekend market again because he'd be seeing you at the castle very soon when his guards brought you to him.
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whalesforhands · 9 months
Note
hiii i was your first anon ever but how about reader with someone ELSE crushing on her? under stsg’s noses?! omg the absolute war that will go down… maybe its a new student or maybe a first year! haibara? haibara a first year who has become absolutely enamored with her and heart eyes whenver he sees her!! and ykw shes so sweet oh so kind she doesnt find him odd in fact she thinks he’s equally sweet and shes so a fond of him, gives him the prettiest smiles and helps him out a lot! except shes so oblivious to the fact that he likes her!! everyone knows. everyone. shoko, nanami. (nanani tries his best to warn haibara about the future in liking her bc of the two guard dogs around her but haibara doesnt get the hints) AND stsg. oh when those two find out itll be an immediate shut down. maybe shoko lets out about the heart eyes haibara gives her everytime he sees her in the morning. or maybe they catch haibara and reader in a conversation where haibara is sweating and blushing a bright pink and reader is just calmly (?) and worriedly talking to him talking about some subject she found interesting, she reaches to touch his hand or head and he heats up even more and she has to almost catch him from fainting. stsg in the distance are fuming!!! satoru’s plan is to go storming in and makeout with her and give her a couple of hickies but suguru knows she might pass out from that and tells him to relax.. even tho inside suguru is equally distraught…but anyways… how you write is up to you!!!
so happy youre growing more and more and your stories are getting better!!!🩶🩶🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🤍❤️‍🔥
i love haibara man. everybody loves haibara i’m not gonna be mean to him cause he’s a literal ray of sunshine. no one can convince me to make haibara suffer, not even u, my no.1 anon.
so i completely changed ur suggestion hahahah
our first years are too cute! (geto x reader x gojo)
“Nanami-kun, Haibara-kun!” You wave at them from the courtyard, your arms flailing about in the air as you practically bounce in place from excitement.
“Good morning!” You’re dressed in your exercise getup, Shoko next to you stretching as she gave a lazy wave towards them.
“(last name)-san is always so cheery, isn’t she?” Haibara enthusiastically waved back with his whole body, trying to match your jolly energy.
“Good morning!!!”
Nanami sighs, watching as the SG duo begin to flank you, Suguru’s arm resting around your shoulders as Gojo pulls out some senbei from his pockets, waving it in the air and claiming they were fresh off the grill and deliciously ready for anyone to sink their teeth into.
“You’re gonna get stomachaches if you accept food from him.” Suguru whispers not very inconspicuously into your ear as you laugh.
“I can hear you!”
“If you can then you should treat us to some soda.” Shoko adds in, her arms twirling themselves around your free one as she stares at the bespectacled sorcerer.
“Or we’ll tell Yaga-sensei you skipped out on running 3 laps.”
You look at him stunned. Betrayed.
“I let you finish my water bottle when you said you were exhausted from running…” You’re disheartened at being tricked as Geto rubs your shoulder, whispering more about ‘liars’ and ‘dirty cheats’.
Shoko simply smirks as she holds your arm.
Satoru gives in to pressure.
“…The Satoru wallet has made an appearance once more! What would our lovely users like to drink today?!”
Your slackened shoulders instantly pipe up as the other 2 share a secretive high five.
——
“And that’s why azuki bean flavour is the best, Nanami-kun!” You grin as you plop the said wrapped bread into his open palm.
It feels hot. He could practically see the steam arising from it, the slight sweetness of the red bean wafting into temptingly into his nose.
This is too fresh to be from the cafeteria. It smells different too.
(He would know.)
“(last name)-san,” He stares at the treat whilst Haibara was gushing over the food, eyes sparkling as he looks at it. “Did you make this?”
You flinch, bashfully twirling a lock of your hair as you avoid his gaze.
“No…?”
Your eyes flit back up to meet an unamused stare paired with a cocked eyebrow. Oh. You’ve been caught.
“Aha.” You turn your back to him as your voice grows quieter, more insecure. “Is it obvious because it’s ugly?”
Realization then strikes you.
“A-ah, you probably wouldn’t want it because it’s homemade, right? Sanitation issues and all…” You promptly spin back around, trying to retrieve your treats before Haibara interrupts.
“(last name)-senpai made it?! Then there’s no way we can reject it!” He’s hugging the treat in his arms and dodging your attempts to snatch it back.
“B-but it really isn’t any good! I’ll buy you some from the one down the street!”
Even Nanami was now using his height to hold your treat high in the air, out of your reach. Haibara moves to copy his movements, both hands holding your homemade snack as high as he could go, proudly showing it off to the sky as if it were his greatest treasure.
“I will never forget this kind gesture, (last name)-senpai!”
“We will greatly savour this as your underclassmen.”
“Why do you both sound like this is the last thing you’re ever going to get from me?!”
——
“Then, Nanami swept in and went KABOOSH! And the curse was down several limbs!” Haibara recalled, his fists pumping into the air as he tried to replicate the excitement he felt during the mission.
You nod excitedly, happy to simply hear his excited voice.
It goes silent when he finishes, the tension enveloping the both of you.
You don’t want him to feel awkward around you.
Mm, what do the younger ones like nowadays anyways? Gundams? Maybe you should talk about that Ex-S MXA-0011 Gundam that you built with Satoru the other day.
“Ah…” He scratches his head, lost. “I’m sorry that I don’t know much about Gundams!” He’s now fervently bowing in apology.
You feel bad.
“Haibara-kun, you don’t need to bow!” You’re waving your hands frantically, trying to get him to stop as you panic.
You go back to thinking, absentmindedly staring deep into your lowerclassmen’s eyes as you think about the latest trends.
(You’re not noticing how intensely you’re looking at him. He’s blushing up a storm.)
“Oh!” Your fist taps your into your open palm.
“Do you like Pokemon?”
“Ah, Pocket Monsters?!” He’s excited. “Do you like it as well, (last name)-senpai?! I have a copy of the Fire Red version and I-“
He’s trailing off. You’re happy to see him smile again as he prattles on and on. So precious.
“You’re cute when you talk about things you like, Haibara-kun.”
Are kids these days meant to be so red?
(He’s only a year below you.)
“Are you okay?” You move forward, hand gingerly moving his bangs aside before you press the back against his flushed skin, face slowly closing in on his.
“Haibara-kun, are you not-“
“Haibara-chan has a cold, doesn’t he?!” Gojo tackles the boy, placing his own forehead against his own as Geto appears next to them.
“Sick people should take it easy and rest.” Geto snatches the boy away from his partner, dragging Haibara onto a nearby chair, slapping a fever patch onto his forehead as Gojo sticks a thermometer into the poor underclassman’s mouth.
“Guys, is that not a little rough…?” You move forward to try to stop Yu’s body from being tossed around, his eyes starting to spin as you try to catch him.
“Look at that!” Gojo’s arm is hugged around your neck as he pulls you in closer, grabbing you and pulling your body towards him for you to view the beeping thermometer with him.
“Our poor boy is burning up!”
“Well that’s not goo-“
“Suguru!” He snaps his fingers in the air as his hand moves to now rest on your waist as you’re pressed into his side.
“Contact the hospital and bring us our finest doctor!”
“Understood, sir!” Geto stands to attention, saluting the both of you as your eyes blankly stare at him.
What.
Geto simply winks at you, shaking his phone in his hand that had popped out of those seemingly endless deep pockets.
“Shooookooooo, emergency in the courtyard!”
You hear a muffled sigh coming out of his device as Gojo suddenly outs his own phone to take a selfie with you and a red Haibara.
(“Just smile as cutely as usual!”)
“…what does this have to do with me?”
——
Haibara Yu never felt such joy.
‘My seniors care about me so much!’
Gojo’s holding him by his legs, whilst Geto’s supporting the weight of his arms as they quite literally cart him around by his limbs.
He’s in bliss before he’s unceremoniously tossed onto the hard wooden bench, an unimpressed Shoko appearing by his side.
“Alright, patient of the day.” Her eyes glint as her hands move to hover over his body. “Get ready to experience the healing of a lifetime.”
“Yayyy, Shoko is the best!”
“World class!”
“She looks pretty when she’s so focused…”
“What did you troublesome lot pull Haibara into…?”
Should… He be scared? No. He’s got his trusty seniors and Nanami to look over him. He trusts you all.
——
“Which one of you made your little ‘adjustments’ to my chair?” Yaga growled out, a throbbing pain throughout his lower back and posterior as he sat upon the steps, pain relief patch slightly peeking out of his pants whilst looking down towards the two kneeling suspects.
Fingers are pointed at each other.
Yaga glares at the two culprits refusing to take the blame.
“You troublesome lot…” He cracks his knuckles as the two begin to cower slightly.
“NEED MORE DISCIPLINE!” He lets loose his fist, sending the SatoSugu duo flying as they soar through the yard, yelps of pain being let out.
Haibara gulps as he hears the commotion happening just meters away from him.
He should just ignore the building irritation and rage that’s boiling from within the senior beside him… Right?
He feels a sudden smack to his gut as his body jolts up, his ears taking the brunt of the loudest he’s ever heard Ieiri-senpai.
“I CAN’T CONCENTRATE IF YOU DON’T SHUT IT!”
(She’s referring to her two injured classmates who are rubbing their heads as they whine about Yaga’s ‘mistreatment’.)
(You’re holding an ice pack to Satoru’s head as Suguru curls up beside you, waiting for his turn.)
——
Sleeping.
That’s what you were all doing. The sun was beginning to set, an orange glow engulfing your forms in its warm embrace as the night began to settle in.
Suguru’s back is against the tree, arms crossed against his chest as he slumps over, snoring lightly with Satoru drooling all over his right shoulder.
You’re nestled comfortably on his other shoulder, snuggling yourself into his neck as you nearly fall onto his chest, one hand in Shoko’s hair where she lays on your lap, her hand oddly stretched forward, fingers grazing the fabric of Suguru’s knees.
The underclassmen simply settle down around the tree with all of you, right next to Gojo as they observe the strangely serene sight.
“Our upperclassmen… Are kinda cute, aren’t they?”
“Don’t flatter them.”
(“Should we wake them up?”)
(“…Let them rest for a little longer.”)
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Notes:
“Suguru, is your head fine?”
“Ah, I’m quite alr-“ He pauses, his smile growing as he looks at you, eyes curving up into mischievous crescents. “Actually… It does feel a little sore.” His tone subtly shifts to one of mock hurt, hand coming up to press the bump softly as he fakes a little wince.
(A little lie wouldn’t hurt, right?)
“Wanna make me feel better?” He’s silent as he leans down towards you, hoping you pat his head and let him indulge a little in your touch.
You stare at him.
He’s surprised when you slowly lean up on your toes, fingers pressing against his cheek before a kiss was administered to his forehead as you tuck away his strand of hair.
“I hope you feel better soon.” You watch him as his blush grows, eyes staring starstruck at you.
“…”
“I will if you do that again.”
(“My head hurts too! It’s my turn!”)
(“My hand hurts all of a sudden from whacking Haibara.”)
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not-magdi · 8 months
Text
Period
Summary: Well it‘s that time of the month again 😑 Luckily this time you‘re not alone 😁
Warnings: None
Words: 1.1k
A/N
As someone who currently is experiencing the same thing I would like to say that I also want to be babied at some point, but who is there for me? Nobody 😑
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(A short moment to appreciate how frigging cute that boy looks!❤️)
Since Y/N woke up today she knew something was off, everything in her body ached and her head hurt like crazy. She had no clue what was going on, but whatever it was it should better stop sooner than later because she some things to do, her boyfriend Pablo for example.
Y/N and Pablo have been boyfriend and girlfriend for about a month now, everything was going great, the chemistry between them was awesome, and they were still really deep in their honeymoon phase.
Still, they need to get used to each other, not wanting to scare the other one off they try to do everything that involves the other as perfectly as possible.
Now Y/N was about to get out of bed when she felt a stabbing pain in her lower abdomen, rushing to the bathroom her fear was confirmed, she got her period.
"Oh come on ... you're a week too soon" complained Y/N cleaning herself up and reaching for a tampon.
Coming out of the bathroom she felt horrible, her abdomen was punishing her with the worst cramps she felt in a while and her head was killing her. Going into the kitchen she starts to boil water for her heating pad as she turns around to open the fridge she sees the red circle on her calendar.
Today her and Pablo were supposed to go to this new nightclub that opened last week, he wanted her to meet a few of his friends today, but knowing her body she was going to feel horrible for the rest of the day.
Feeling really guilty she thought about what she should do, calling Pablo and telling him how horrible she felt and him probably being very disappointed, or her still going but most likely not enjoying the evening and making a bad impression on his friends, which then again leads to Pablo being disappointed in her.
Sighing she presses Pablo's contact calling him.
"Hola amor what's up" Pablo answers after two rings.
"Hola bebé I think I need to cancel today, I'm feeling really sick today and I don't want to ruin everyone's evening," she says while sitting down on the couch rubbing her abdomen.
"Oh no ... you want me to come over? I could look after you", Pablo asks with genuine concern.
Wanting nothing more than be cuddled up in Pablo's arms while he looks after her she still declines, "No baby you don't have to it's not that bad" She winces at the end of her sentence as a really bad cramp surges through her.
"Are you sure, you do not sound good ... are you in pain?" not convinced by her statement he asks her.
"No! ... well yes, kind of. It's just ... I'm on my period and everything kind of hurts" Convinced he is going to be disgusted she mumbles the last part.
"Oh poor thing, I'm definitely coming over ... I've seen how much my sister suffers from that. I'm not leaving you alone in your misery ." He exclaims with an affectionate tone.
Touched by his statement she cuddles herself deeper into the couch hearing him say he is going to be there in thirty minutes, as he has to do a few things before he can come.
Unbeknownst to Y/N Pablo called his sister asking her what he should do now because, to be honest, he had no clue where he should even start.
Being utterly confused why her brother was calling her out of nowhere asking what girls like on her period she tells him a few basic things everybody enjoys, chocolate, heated blankets, ...
After getting a few ideas from his sister he drove to the nearest store and bought a few snacks for her and a pair of fluffy socks he knows she loves so much.
He bought everything he thought she might need, and nearly emptied the whole sweets section. He drove to her house gently knocking on the front door.
"It's open!", he hears Y/N yell, and as he opens the door he sees a pale-looking Y/N cuddled under her favourite blanket all in all looking pretty sick. The sight breaks his heart, placing the bags from his shopping trip beside the couch. He kneels before her kissing her head.
"Oh amor ... you really don't feel good, do you?" stroking her head he sees her shaking her head groaning as another cramp hits.
Lifting the shopping bags he exclaims softly, "I brought you some snacks, I didn't know what to get you so I just grabbed a few of my favorite comfort snacks"
Smiling softly Y/N looks into the bag seeing lots of different types of food from sweet to sour everything was there.
"Thank you that's perfect" being really touched by his actions tears start to form in her eyes.
„Hey Bebé ... it's ok no need to cry" wiping the tears away with his thumb Pablo kisses her nose earning himself a teary giggle.
„I'm sorry it's just that ... you're like the sweetest person I've ever met. Nobody ever brought me snacks while I'm on my period or cared for me like that"
„Well then it's time we change that ... scooch over I want some cuddles."
Scooching over Pablo climbs behind her so he's sitting up and she has her back to his chest, hearing her groan in pain again he asks;" Is there anything I can do to help you with the pain?"
Thinking for a short while Y/N answers, " Yes there actually is." Taking his hands she brings them to her abdomen, "Just hold your hands there please, your warmth will ease the cramps."
Nodding Pablo holds her abdomen with his hands starting to massage it after some time, hearing Y/N sigh he smiles to himself looking down and seeing her cuddle herself deeper into him.
"You comfy?" he asks her with a smile. Looking up at him with an adorable little smile she nods wrapping her arms around his.
"Don't you have to go soon, otherwise you'll be late to meet up with your friends." looking up at him Y/N  asks Pablo.
"I said they can go without me, I'd rather be with my girl anyways." kissing her head he answers.
"Really? ... Awww you're so sweet when you want to" she exclaims, gasping Pablo looks at her. "What's that supposed to mean!?"
Giggling Y/n gives Pablo a kiss before cuddling herself into him again, falling asleep not much later, in the safety of her boyfriends' arms who she grows to love more and more every day.
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