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blue-as-the-languid-skies · 2 months

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how do you move on when they still feel like home? how do you find the things that bring you joy when it’s so apparent that there’s this huge gaping hole in your life, right where they used to be?

I am trying. but the feeling of her skin on mine is burned into my memory and my heart aches with every day that passes where she doesn’t walk through the door and into my arms.

we spoke about being friends, because at the time I was desperate to not lose her (she was already gone, I think). but how long will it be before this longing eases up? how long before the weight of this loss isn’t crushing the air out of my lungs, dripping motivation down the drain? I want to want to be happy. and I do, I think. want to.

but it’s really. fucking. hard.

all I can remember is how many times I looked at her and thought “I am so sure that I never want to lose this, to lose you”—and yet here I am. (If id shared that more often, would it have made a difference? did you know how much you were valued and loved?)

I am here and she is not beside me, and I am still struggling to wrap my head around that.

she is so wrapped up in all of the things I love that I am having to find anything that has never passed through her lips in order to experience something without the shadow of her memory. which is also fucking difficult, because it feels like we spoke about everything.

I am trying to learn to live with the reminder instead of avoiding it, but it’s still raw and painful. some of it bittersweet. I remember the joy, too. still, everything comes with the sharp twinge of the memory of us. I want to move forward…I want to find all of the things I love, reclaim some of the things we loved, and fill my life with all of it (and still, I think I will notice her missing).

I’m going through a really hard time with my family now…and fuck, do I miss her more than ever. I am trying not to think about her laugh, or her eyes on mine, or the feeling of her skin…but holding her and being held by her was the most at home I’ve ever felt, the most content I’ve ever been.

but that was a big problem of mine all along, wasn’t it? that she felt more like home than just me in my own skin? i was so lost (not that i knew it at the time), and I made a home with her before I made a home with me.

I am trying to find my home here, but it feels like she took it all with her and left me in the middle of a big, empty house with crumbling walls and a picture of us laying in the corner of the room in in. I am trying to rebuild my space piece by piece, step by step. but most days are spent on my knees in the broken glass and it’s all so fucking hard. I’m really fucking hurting.

I try to sleep in the middle of the bed now to cover up the feeling of emptiness that comes from having her side cold and bare. I have a lot of nightmares right now. I don’t remember most of them but the feelings linger when I wake up from them. I still wake up reaching out for her, sometimes. I think about her when I fall asleep, and I don’t know how to stop doing that because my favorite thing at the end of the day was holding her.

it feels like shit. all of it. I lost the two most important people in my life in a matter of months, and I still feel the whiplash of everything changing. I was thrown to the wind, caught up in the hurricane of it all and I have yet to get both feet back on the ground.

I want to run away. I want to escape to somewhere new, somewhere we’ve never been. I would rather deal with the emptiness that comes with wishing she was there with me than be around all of the things and places we used to love together. I don’t want to step a foot on where we’ve been, because I swear to god I can smell her around me and I am filled with the loss, and love, and memories.

I’m trying to untangle the things I love from the memory of her. I am trying to relearn them as mine and not ours. I’m learning to avoid the things I can’t do that with, and sit with the discomfort for the things I want to be able to enjoy again.

I only went to the farmers market with her…once I think? twice? and I’d gone alone a lot but always tried to get her to go with me…so the first time she went I was over the moon, and that stuck, and now I feel weird and very alone walking through the market. I tried to go too soon after our breakup, and I bought myself (vegan) grilled cheese and cheesecake. and I felt so fucking alone and missed her so intensely that I cried, and had to leave.

but yesterday? I dragged myself, alone, to a jazz thing that I almost backed out of. I felt lonely, at first. but you know what? it was the most fun I’ve had since That Day (the day she told me she was done trying). I made friends with an older lady sitting next to me, and found out that her and her husband recently moved here from Hawaii (I only briefly ached at the reminder of my plans to take Her there and show her my favorite spots). I only thought of Her once (twice, three times), maybe. and that was really nice.

and I caught a glimpse of The Feeling I Am Searching For. something that feels stronger than I am now, something joyful and more at peace. It was nearly intoxicating, finally having a period of time where things didn’t feel so heavy. I have been struggling to keep my head above water for what feels like forever, now (it’s only been a few months? wtf.) and for the first time in a while, I didn’t feel like i was being dragged under. I’m fucking hooked. I caught a glimpse of my life without her and I didn’t want to die or scream and cry, I wanted more. maybe it was only because of the temporary relief from all of the sorrow, but I don’t care because it was like a sip of cool water after burning alive for months in the middle of a desert. it was THERE and I am desperate to find it again, to feel the relief of it running down my throat. I am so tired from this heartbreak, already.

I’m trying to remind myself to go slowly. I know I can’t rush this process…but it fucking sucks to have to sit in it because I don’t feel ready for the next thing, or because I haven’t processed a lot of shit.

I am constantly reminding myself that no one is coming to save me. no one can give me the comfort or support I’m longing for because the kind of comfort and physical connection I’m longing for comes from a romantic partner, or possibly from a very close friend, and they’re both gone. everyone who has been supportive so far has left me feeling like they didn’t have what I was looking for - because they didn’t. I want to be held as close as possible, I want to be hugged and be told that everything will work itself out in the end. I want someone to look me in the eyes and recognize the state I’m in and tell me they’re so sorry I’ve been hurting so fucking much, that they’re sorry I lost someone I really loved. I want them to hold me tighter and tell me that I’ll get through this.

I am trying to learn that those things can come from me, but right now they don’t feel the same. still, I do find stability in knowing that I can choose myself every time. I know now that “forever” is unrealistic, because no one can control the things they never saw coming (or the things they did see coming). the reality is, you are the only one who can save you. you are the only one that can validate your own thoughts and emotions and experiences because you are the only one who has and will experience them.

NO ONE IS COMING TO SAVE YOU.

so you have to learn to be there for yourself - to be enough for yourself. it’s a huge fucking task, and the biggest hill I think I’ll ever climb. through this process, having a limited not-so-great support system has forced me to get through a lot of things alone. and it feels impossible sometimes but I am still here? I am still breathing in spite of everything, possibly just out of the sheer desperation to continue living. as much as every inhale burns my lungs I am learning to exhale the negative shit. I am still fucking here, and I am still breathing, and based on how I felt a few months ago that is fucking impressive. I have kicked and screamed and sobbed my way through it, but I’ve managed to get my head back above the water every time (sometimes with a little help from a friend when it feels too heavy).

I am learning. I’m trying - so fucking hard. things are heavy, and I am sad and touch-starved and filling with longing. it’s hard to be a person who very much wants physical comfort and skin on skin contact when the only person you want it from is no longer in your life (and I refuse to seek it elsewhere cause I think I’d sob and fucking vomit and be left feeling more empty)…I am struggling like I’ve never struggled before. I have never been so lost (or maybe I was lost the entire time??). but I am absolutely set on changing things, fixated on healing and learning…and I guess that’s the best thing I could ask for right now. I am just so tired of hurting. I’m so tired of crying. I am tired of feeling dissociated, and my distress tolerance is at an all time low.

everything is a mess. but at least I am still breathing. I am still fucking breathing, even when it feels impossible and even when it burns.

I fucking miss her.

#personal #02.05.2024 #DBT is fucking exhausting btw #because it turns out doing The Work is really fucking hard #and sometimes it takes energy and willpower that I don’t feel I have #but I know it’s what I need right now so I’m forcing myself through it #I’m getting a lot of good shit from it already it’s just taxing #anyways.#I haven’t jumped off of a bridge so that’s good #moonlight and memories

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ms-demeanor · 5 months

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I think the eight alarms thing is usually a maladaptation. You've trained your brain to ignore the eight alarms because you kept avoiding the training of willpower following the first alarm would require. I think some sleep therapy might help?

Hey so first of all fuck you, thanks.

Second: I love it when you read literature on sleep disorders, especially if it's on sleep disorders among folks with ADHD, and you see time and time again "when allowed to sleep on their preferred schedule subjects maintained healthy, normal, restorative sleep cycles" and "effects were not lasting without ongoing intervention; resetting the sleep schedule is a permanent effort."

Like, if I sleep *great* from 6am to 2pm and I wake up feeling rested and alert with no special help but I need to turn off the lights in my house and shut down all electronics at 8pm and beam a spotlight into my face starting at 5am to wake up at seven and feel exhausted all day, I think perhaps it is not actually my sleep cycle that is wrong it is perhaps society that is wrong.

BELIEVE ME, when I find the job that pays well and has decent insurance that lets me exist as a cheerful nighttime ghoul I am jumping on that with both feet. But until then I literally feel better getting six hours of sleep and occasionally sleeping so hard that i can't hear my alarms because of chronic sleep deprivation than I do turning off all the lights in my house and ceasing all activity two and a half hours after I get off of work.

Also: the eight alarms aren't all there to wake me up, it's just that sometimes I *also* sleep through the ones that are supposed to remind me to go sit at my desk and start work. One of the first three usually gets me up, but on a day when I sleep through all three of those I will be sleeping through all eight of them and usually a phone call and someone trying to shake me awake to.

ANYWAY after being treated with melatonin and light therapy and staring listlessly at the ceiling in the dark bored out of my skull with racing thoughts for sleep disorders that I didn't have for like twenty years the single most effective intervention that allowed me to get more sleep as someone with both ADHD and DSPD was to start hanging out and being active in places where it would be easy to fall asleep if the sleep caught me there instead of turning my bedroom into a dark, silent shrine of snoozing. Giving myself permission to fall asleep late instead of laying awake chewing myself up with guilt for not being asleep helped too.

Actually here's some tips for the sleepy bitches in the crowd:

1 - If you're laying down and not falling asleep in half an hour, you're not actually sleepy; read something or get up and do something because you're more likely to get sleepy faster that way than you are staring at the clock going "if I fall asleep now I'll have three hours and forty five minutes of rest when I have to go to work; If I fall asleep now I'll have three hours and twenty minutes of sleep when I have to get up, etc. etc."

2 - Allow yourself to be ambushed by sleep. Fall asleep on your cozy couch. Fall asleep in the comfy chair. Let yourself sleep where you fall asleep instead of dragging yourself to where you're 'supposed' to sleep if doing so will wake you up.

3 - The mythbusters thing. If you just lay down and close your eyes and pretend to rest you will feel more rested when you get up than when you laid down. Laying down to rest is better than nothing, it literally causes cognitive improvements similar to sleep in tests, and knowing that can help take off some of the pressure of not being able to fall asleep and can thus help you fall asleep.

4 - It's okay to "hang out" in the area where you're going to sleep. Read in bed. Play games on your cellphone in bed. If you want to go to sleep put on comfy clothes and bring a chill activity and hang out in your bed to do it so that all you have to do when you start getting sleepy is close your eyes.

5 - It's better to get some sleep than no sleep. Sometimes you look at the clock and it's six AM and whoops, fuck it. Okay, time for bed, don't stress that you're only going to get a few hours, a few hours is better than nothing. Lay down to pretend to rest at least and you'll probably feel okay.

6 - This one sounds silly and might not work for a bunch of people for a bunch of reasons but apparently there's some research suggesting that "well-rested" is a state of mind? I've had a reasonable amount of success with just telling myself "Yeah, I actually feel pretty good," and pushing through the day on a couple of hours of sleep. I don't *recommend* that and you should try to get as much sleep as possible, but yeah the next time you're low on sleep see what happens if you just try to decide to not be tired. It sounded like bullshit to me when I first heard it but I've found some success with it.

7 - This shit is cumulative. If you're doing a couple nights a week on low sleep that's not ideal but you're probably going to be pretty functional and you can work on it. If you overbook and overextend yourself for too long - I'm looking at you college students and new parents - it's going to add up. Try as much as possible to at least keep your sleep deficit nights spread out. (This message brought to you by writing 60k words of fiction in october and completely frying my brain because i wasn't getting enough sleep).

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jade-curtiss · 8 months

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I think it's so annoying how much there's hardly anything that can be individually safe to do about homelessness. And I don't mean in a "oh the poor starving people in this world, how do things must be so tragic..." kind of way, nor that homeless people are inherently dangerous. But in the sense there's hardly anything lasting worthwhile that can be done without hearing the sound of the sirens sooner of later, usually over something stupid, and the call come from people you don't even know very often (and it's anonymous), so, yea. Like I mean the truth about squatters is that the only time it's really ever socially accepted it's when young clean people in their 20's straight from the west coast do it, otherwise...well...

#and the irony is that from experience #bc squatters are like...💀#homeless people hardly ever stay long because it's almost like a runaway game after like between 5 minutes to like a few days #like it's kind of a lottery in these cases to see how long and how many attempts someone can try to get stable before it happens #and it takes many many attempts in many cases and it's not something that come simply with willpower #and the main problem is not addiction actually that part is just consequential to what's going on usually #the problems are cops and landlords and they work in pair #having someone decked in my living room sometimes is just having someone decked in my living room i mean could've been me too #that's not special

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skeleton-headass · 9 months

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oh it's getting worse

#this shit has always been more about control and willpower than anything else for me #(i know. im this self aware and still keep falling into the same fucking pit 🥴)#and today yeah i was shaky with just two coffees and water and walking around the city for a uni thing #so i decided to eat a protein bar just that i wont faint before i get on my 4h train back #and after it i just felt. regret. like im clearly under my cal amount today i literally walked twice the amount that bar had #but all i could hear in my head was “i didn't need that”#like part of it has always been “i'm in control #in what i eat how much i eat like if i wanted to stop i could“ and its so cliche bUT I'VE ALWAYS BEEN ABLE TO #THAT WAS THE WHOLE POINT #but now i have a sandwich in my bag and my head hurts but im not hungry and i just don't want to eat it even tho i know i should #like yeah i don't feel hungry but i really should eat it now i should be able to eat it #but my head says “why? why should i?” BECAUSE IM IN SEVERE CALORIE DEFECIT DUMBASS #and this is so weird and stupid and embarrassing #but ive been to this pit like four times in the past 5 years in episodes and its never felt this consuming it #the episodes i would restrict were sometimes longer and sometimes shorter but I was always in control #ig i thought i was the fucking exception to a fucking rule #i needed this control to make it thru being at my dad's and all my pre-semester uni stress #it should be getting easier #and its fucking not #i know i have no one to blame except myself jesus fucking Christ

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homunculus-argument · 2 months

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As a kid, I wasn't taught any concept that there's a difference between wanting to do something, and enjoying it. I was a largely unsupervised kid with undiagnosed ADHD and parents who expected their kids to just raise themselves on their own. So when I was capable of spending hours drawing or reading a fun book, but couldn't even remember that I had homework, ever, I was told that I simply didn't want to do well in school. And who was I to question that, I'm eight years old.

Enjoyment and passion were the only forms of motivation I knew, and if I couldn't make myself either love doing boring math homework as much as I loved my hobbies, or force myself to push through things I hated with sheer willpower alone because I want to succeed so bad, then clearly I was simply not as good as all the other kids, who could do that. And that attitude carried onto adulthood. Every time I struggled to muster genuine love and passion into something, I thought that I just don't want it badly enough. Not to enough to love it, or to suffer through it.

Being medicated for the first time was a game changer. Like holy shit, so this is your brain on dopamine. And suddenly I wanted to do things, turned my life around, took up the passion career I had never dared to try. And when the first "honeymoon phase" of the meds wore down, the same fear came back - I don't like this anymore, do I not want it bad enough? What else could I possibly want?

And I shit you not I was literally 30 years old when I understood that life isn't just either loving every minute of pursuing a passion that you love, or joylessly dragging yourself through things that you don't even want to do. I can just tell myself "just because I don't like doing this doesn't mean I don't want to be doing it." It's not a mark of failure, weakness or lack of motivation, if sometimes the career you want to be doing just feels like having a job.

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ivan-fyodorovich-k · 1 year

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look I wish it were otherwise but it is very much looking like my lot in life is to at least in part be an embodied reminder of the unfortunate reality that sometimes people don’t get better

#pure and impure vessels and all that #this is what God wants for me #but look #I know that you all need to say things like #medicine #exercise #therapy #healthy eating #religion #willpower #these are things that you have to say so you feel like you have control over your life and they all work sometimes for some people #but there's no foolproof method #sometimes people just don't get better #you can tell yourself it's because they didn't believe hard enough #they didn't try hard enough #they weren't strong enough #whatever #maybe you're right and it's always a personal choice and a personal failure #but we are still left with the stark reality #not everyone recovers #I don't know #maybe at this point I do owe people an explanation of all the things I've tried #I think I've tried everything #'did you try hard enough though??'#'did you try long enough???'#I could be wrong but I think I can say safely that I tried long and hard enough to know that sometimes it improves but it never goes away #but you can choose I suppose to believe I am willfully lazy and evil #perhaps I am

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anantaru · 10 months

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— drunk genshin boys

including heizou, alhaitham, scaramouche, kaveh, pantalone, childe, diluc, cyno x gn! reader

꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff & crack, idk what this is but very cute

drunk! heizou who gets tremendously clingy with you— he doesn‘t have anything but embracing and snuggling up to you in mind. from the beginning, before anything else, you have to help him get to bed, he can barely walk in a straight line and you wonder who he was sharing his drinks with— might be kazuha for all you know. "you‘re so good to me." he slurrs his words, eyes lowered and almost closed but keeping them open, heizou tries to because he can’t keep his eyes off you— even when drunk out of his mind, then the sweet man reaches his arms out for you, "come here come here." it’s a combination of a pitchy whine and a pout displayed before you and archons, how can someone be this adorable without even trying hard? you wonder but ultimately smile at your boyfriend, drawing a fuzzy blanket over his body before leaning into his chest.

drunk! alhaitham who fights with himself, more or less— he can hardly stand. you see, your boyfriend knows he‘s drunk and now he‘s forcing himself to sober up with nothing but pure, strong willpower and a good spirit at hand, but beware, he knows it‘s not possible but he tries to tell himself to sober up regardless, even when aware that that‘s not how it works in the general rule of booze. "i have almost conquered myself." he announces proudly while leaning against your shoulder, his soft hair ruffled and ticking your cheek. "yeah yeah." you playfully roll your eyes, placing your hand on top of his thigh while petting the clothed skin. it‘s when he places his palm on top of your hand to catch you in his embrace before you can notice the faint, soundly snoring sounds of your boyfriend succumbing to a deep slumber against you.

drunk! scaramouche who, much to your own surprise, tends to indicate a few kisses, cuddles and silently thanks you for taking care of him— it‘s especially surprising since this never happens when he‘s not under the influence of alcohol. truthfully, he didn‘t think he was even capable to get drunk and tried a bunch of different beverages around sumeru city. what he didn‘t know was that, alcohol can become a little tricky, especially when it hits you somewhat delayed. you were quick to notice his cheeks changing their color until his entire face was covered in red— the small pants from his parted lips and his larger pupils only proving your point. "nuisance." kuni curses, planting his arm over your shoulder as he makes you stop for a second, keeping your movements to a stand still. "kiss." he leans closer, no words following, ultimately failing to hit your lips and bumping in your nose instead— at this point you’re dying of laughter, you had even attempted to fight your giggles but how could that even be an option when he‘s like that? yet to the best part, you show him how it‘s done and properly melt your lips on his.

drunk! kaveh who— and such fact is known throughout all of sumeru, was a lightweight on the inside, but sometimes had the need to pretend to actually be able to hold his drinks in. you on the other hand knew your boyfriend and his tendencies to drink a little bit too much whenever he‘s meeting up with his friends for a round of tcg or anything really— most of the time it does consist of gossiping. considering this, you always await him late at night, knowing full on well that he‘s going to have a hard time getting out of his shoes or, frankly, find the way to his bedroom. "i‘m not- not drunk!" he proclaims with a pitched, half broken tone, raising his pointer finger in the air, "drunk not i not!" and stammers before dropping into his bed face first. you welcome him with a smile, "you sure aren‘t." and amusingly shake your head but not before placing a bucket next to the bed for— well, who knows what you both will face this entire night.

drunk! pantalone who loves to drink a few glasses of red wine— reveling in the massive flavor of different nuances the beverage had in store after a long day of working himself to frenzied tiredness. believe it or not but he knows the limits of his body quite well, yet even he can overindulge in it from time to time. in which case would he make himself overly noticable the moment he stumbles home. it‘s louder than usual and you wonder if he actually tripped over and fell carelessly or ran against the door. but the man finds you at last as he always did, you long since ready for bed before dropping right next to you, still fully clothed in a perfectly fitted garment and his glasses messily shoved up, "i may have had too many drinks tonight." he admits against his own volition, rubbing his head and the tiny red spot emerging on his forehead— he really did hit the door, "and you may need to help me out of my clothes."

drunk! childe who doesn‘t consider a party being a real event without him in it— surprinsingly was the eleventh harbinger good with keeping his booze in, it‘s rarely for him to get real, drop dead drunk, but when he does— oh boy, you can be sure he won‘t stop talking to you the entire night. "have i told you about that time i dropped a whale on an entire army?" brazen words after arrogant notions, ajax cuddles himself against your back to try to turn you towards him, after all, he thinks you weren‘t listening with your body being turned away like that. after a deep-rooted yawn, you pull yourself to the left to face him, "you did." and cradle his cheek, "you did at last three times this past hour."

drunk! diluc who, much to his own embarrassment, needs to be taken care of. the man loathes alcohol to his very core, but even he needs to occasionally drink a couple glasses with important partners who he had been collaborating and working with. "i can‘t feel my legs." he almost whines at the loss of his senses, numb and tired as you repeatedly dapped a cold washcloth on his forehead while he was continuously pinching his biceps, "that‘s your arm baby." your expression softened slightly as you carried on to clean him up. as it was time to turn in for the night, you felt diluc‘s intense, warm presence closer than on any other day before, "please don‘t leave." his words find your ears with such ease, like a piece of his own soul, a bright, hopeful voice, full of hope but webbed in bristling fear, "i won‘t."

drunk! cyno who— and this really doesn‘t surprise you at this point in time, pompously shows off all his aquired and bundled up jokes, you had, in the beginning of your relationship, thought that what if he would genuinely turn out to be legitimately hilarious when in such wobbly state. "a tighnari and cyno walk into a bar." he pulls his mask off and places it on a drawer that, and don‘t ever tell him that, but there isn‘t a drawer there, he‘s just imagining things, "knock knock, *hiccup* who‘s there?" cyno quickly stops himself as you pick up the mask and put it on a real drawer, sliding into the warm bedsheets beside him afterwards, "wait, that‘s not how the joke goes." the man wrinkles his nose in thought, blinking rapidly while looking at you through puppy eyes, as if you had an actual idea on what he‘s talking about.

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sytoran · 9 months

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𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐔𝐓𝐘

the mother of the kids you babysit is sinfully hot, and she happens to be going through a messy divorce, so, of course, you're gonna do what you can to help out.

🌸 pairing: milf!pregnant!wanda x top!babysitter!gn!reader

🌸 cont: almost smut (18+), major age gap, teasing, flirting, what kind of oneshot would this be if i didn't add love to the lust, pregnancy kink kinda, or just a thing for hot moms in general

🌸 word count: 1.9k

🌸 note: i know i'm supposed to be on break... scold me after

To say you had an unhealthy obsession with the mother of the kids you babysat would be an understatement.

Understated by such a far amount that it dug beyond the trenches of the center of the universe.

Because you were utterly, filthily, encompassingly, sinfully, and completely enthralled by the mere thought of Wanda Maximoff.

She was leaning over the kitchen counter, low-cut shirt emboldening the tantalising cleavage she had, speaking to her kids in that sexy motherly tone that drove you wild.

“Mommy’s gonna be cheering you boys on for your football game tomorrow, alright?”

Wanda was every one of your wet dreams embodied as a breathtaking woman, so utterly gorgeous beyond dictionaried words that you nearly fell to your knees in the presence of her beauty the first time you saw her.

Especially now, that she was pregnant with her third child.

It took every cell of your willpower to not start drooling when you laid your eyes on her these days: with her glowing features that had aged like fine wine, or her rounded and full breasts, so tight against the seams of her shirt, or her big belly you just longed to caress.

Sometimes you’d think Wanda felt the same for you.

All the times she would ‘accidentally’ brush her ass against your crotch area when squeezing through a narrow gap, pressing into you for a moment too long to be considered accidental.

Or the times she would complain to you about her messy divorce with Vision, lamenting about her lawyers and social workers and saying that you were the only one that could calm her down.

But the two of you were worlds apart, because she paid you to be the babysitter for her kids. That was what was holding you back, from bending her over the kitchen counter every time she brushed passed you with that ass.

“Y/N?”

Wanda’s sweet voice snaps you out of your trance, and you look up guiltily at having been caught staring. When you come to your senses, you’ve realized that the boys have already left for school that day.

The mother tilts her head to the side with a little grin, and your heart does a flip. “What’re you thinking about that’s got you so distracted, hm?” she asks, propping her head up with a hand while resting her elbow on the counter.

You clear your throat awkwardly, pushing in some chairs to busy your hands. “Uni stuff,” you reply, the lie slipping through your lips surprisingly easily. “It’s quite stressful, with exam season ‘round the corner.”

It wasn’t a secret that you were nearly twenty years younger than Wanda, but it made your little forbidden crush all the more thrilling. The way you would take time out of your weekends to spend time with Wanda and the kids, disregarding party invites and forgoing study time. It was probably not a good move, but your horniness seemed to have a mind of its own.

“Mhm, uni was a lifetime ago for me,” Wanda reminisces, lifting her arms up to stretch. Your eyes are shamefully glued to the curve of her belly as her shirt rides up. “You’re so mature for your age, though, Y/N. Wish you were around during my time.”

“What?” you nearly choke on your words, unsure if you had interpreted her correctly. It was too good to be true – Wanda had never been this forward.

“Come on, sweetheart, don’t sell yourself short,” the mother says easily, smiling brightly as if she wasn’t the cause of your burning arousal. “Captain of the football team, eh? You can also cook, clean, fix cars, do gardening, and fix sinks. And you’re good with kids! I bet you have all the girls in uni chasing after you.”

Wanda’s surge of compliments does wonders for your ego, but the only thing you genuinely care about was your availability for her. You’ve had girls in your level lust after you, sure, but Wanda was a secret solace that was different from them all.

“Maybe,” you say cryptically, failing to hide a smirk at the look that washes over Wanda’s face.

“Do you? Someone from school?” Wanda asks, the teasing lilt in her voice dissipating almost immediately, instead being replaced with something akin to jealousy.

Fuck, you wanted her so bad.

“Hmm, sure,” you tease, liking this cat-and-mouse game you were playing. “She looks a bit like you.”

Wanda can’t seem to keep the annoyance off her face, and it’s adorably funny. And kind of hot, too. “That’s nice. Are you dating her?”

You laugh, walking up to Wanda to help her with the dishes she was currently unpacking from the dryer. “Nah. Sometimes I think she wants me, but I also think she’s way outta my league.”

‘Way outta my league’ my ass, more like ‘way outta my appropriate age group.’

As Wanda watches you pick up a glass bowl, she feels a surge of emotion well up from inside that causes her to tear up.

Of course, she would never have you, it was just silly to want her babysitter. You had so many younger, fitter, eligible partners, all waiting to have you. Young pretty girls who had problems with the colour of their lipstick, not problems with pregnancy and divorce lawyers and shitty husbands.

When you look back to see Wanda’s state of tears, worry taints your features instantaneously. “My emotions are all over the place because of the pregnancy,” Wanda says between shaky breaths. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

In wordless acknowledgement, you put down the dishes and sweep Wanda off her feet. You lift her from under her back and thighs, firm hands steadying her as you walk up the stairs. Wanda looks up at you, feeling so utterly vulnerable all of a sudden, but you send her a warm smile that simultaneously calms her down and awakes butterflies in her stomach.

She takes the time to brush her hands over your arms, then your neck. You were so strong, so calming, everything she had ever needed. Now, the feeling of your hands so close to where she’d imagined you so many times was a good distraction.

When you reach the bedroom, you move the pillows and set her down gently, all with her arms wrapped around your neck. With a striking realisation, Wanda knows that she’s never felt this safe with anyone ever, so warm and so inviting, and she never wanted to let you go.

You leave for a while to get some things, and reappear in Wanda’s bedroom with a glass of warm water and some painkillers. There are chocolates in the mix, the peanut butter kind that soothes Wanda down immensely.

“You’re too good for me,” Wanda says breathily, the sheen of sweat that had covered her forehead now being tenderly wiped away by you. You shrug plainly. You just wanted to provide for her, take care of her and her kids and all her sexual needs. treat Wanda like the queen she was, nothing at all like the bags of garbage that was her husband.

Before you know it, you lean down to press a kiss against Wanda’s warm forehead in an act of affection. The moment is sweet, and soft, so much like what you’d imagined.

Wanda freezes up for a moment, and you do the same. “Sorry,” you choke out, moving back quickly, but the older woman was quick to grip your forearm and prevent you from escaping.

“Stay.”

Your breath stills in your throat, eyes wide. You’re hovering over Wanda from the side of the bed, while the woman lays down just inches away from you. Her hair is splayed across the pillows, her pupils are blown, and her lips are so close to yours. So, so close.

Time slows down as you tilt your head to meet her lips, chasing that forbidden little paradise you’d been seeking for months. You instinctively place a hand on the swell of her belly, and Wanda shudders at your touch.

She places a hand on the side of your face, fingers skating over your cheekbones, and the electricity that runs through your blood makes you feel more alive than you’d ever been.

You can feel her warm breath on your lips, tantalising.

You can see her closed eyelids, anticipating.

You can taste that forbidden paradise, addicting.

But the moment is broken like shattered glass when the sound of the doorbell resounds around the house.

“Fuck,” Wanda whispers, jumping into action, scrambling to pull herself together. “It’s my husband. He was gonna come today to collect his shit.” You back away from her, face burning in embarrassment at how excited and desperate you’d been.

“Sorry,” you say awkwardly, watching her check her reflection in the bedroom mirror. “I’ll go now. I won’t bother you anymore.” The sound of keys unlocking the door has you resigning to your fate.

Wanda whips her head around in record time. Only then does she notice your downcast gaze. “Baby,” she croons, coming up to you to cradle your face in her hands. “You know it’s not like that.”

You let out an incoherent grumble, but Wanda cuts you off by pressing her lips against yours in a quick fashion, far too quick for your liking. Nonetheless, you’re left reeling and heart pounding, staring at the older woman wide-eyed.

“I’m divorcing him,” Wanda continues, briskly walking towards the door like she hadn’t just turned your life upside down. “After that, you can have me all to yourself–”

Before Wanda knows what hit her, she’s being pushed against the wall with your lips on hers. You’re quick, and rough, like you’d die without the taste of her tongue. You slide a knee between her big thighs, relentless and stealing her every breath. Wanda moans against you, hands helplessly pinned against the door, her heart beating all too quick.

“Wanda? You there?” A not-so-distant voice calls, then footsteps are heard trudging up the stairs. Spurred on by the movement, you possessively slip a hand up Wanda’s shirt, sliding over her pregnant belly and then to her big breasts, squeezing it in your palm.

“F-fuck,” the mom whimpers, dizzied with your undying fervour. She can feel the wetness in her panties pool, hormones dancing all over the place, her brain screaming at her to let her fuck you right up against the wall and make her cum in front of her husband.

“Tomorrow,” Wanda whispers, as the footsteps edge closer and closer. You pull away, just like that, your hands smoothing over her shirt and resting unnecessarily long on her hardened buds.

Wanda almost laughs in disbelief at your incredible boldness, but after a few seconds the door clicks open and she freezes.

“What’re you doing?” Vision asks suspiciously, emerging from behind the doorway like a figment of her worst dreams.

Wanda turns her head to look at you, for you’d been standing right there just a moment ago. Now, all that’s left is an empty room, a window wide open, and the howling wind.

“Nothing much,” Wanda replies, turning to Vision with a cryptic smile. “Other than moving on from you, obviously.”

Just two floors down, you’re getting onto your skateboard and whizzing away from the house with your legs shaking in adrenaline. Your blood is pumping and your hands are numb, but this little fantasy of yours leaves your heart soaring higher than it ever had before.

i was too lazy to add the taglist, sorry yall. anyways come and yell at me in my asks rn

read part 2 | main m.list | AO3

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff smut #x reader #marvel smut #wanda maximoff x reader smut #wanda maximoff x reader fluff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader smut #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader #top reader #dom reader #sub wanda maximoff #bottom wanda maximoff

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ohimsummer · 6 months

Text

ANYTHING YOU CAN DO...

— minors dni, suguru x fem! reader (+ implied satoru x reader), virgin! reader, gojo and geto are fighting over you lol, suggestive/smut?, biting, hickeys, some dryhumping, reader is a sensitive little virgin and came in their panties, everyone is around 21-ish

the sequel: …i can do better

Having the attention of the Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto is both a blessing and a curse.

It’s overwhelming sometimes the way they tag-team making you increasingly flustered; Suguru dropping blatant hints with that silky smooth voice of his, cascading through your ears like warm, melted caramel. And then Satoru, who can never keep his hands to himself and leaves frisky, fleeting touches on any unprotected part of your body. You’ve since realized it’s such a bad (albeit tantalizing) idea to wear those cute little camis that hug your figure so nice or, God forbid, those fuzzy, blue, cotton shorts just asking for him to pinch at the exposed skin of your thighs and ass hanging out the bottom.

The way they’d compete for your affections (even though you had more than enough to go around) was both humorous and also troublesome for your willpower. How many times would they trap you between their bodies, wandering hands creeping beneath your clothes to pinch and rub at anything they could reach because they were just so, so fucking obsessed with the way you squeal and whine when they do. And the way you can’t contain all your low, desperate moans but continue to pray that their continuous spat will drown it out. They both tug at you from either side, until sometimes Satoru will just yank you by the waist into his lap and now Suguru has to gently spread your legs and scoot closer, hooking one around his waist and caressing the other laid upon his lap. And now you’re stuttering an excuse to escape inside your room with extraordinarily soaked panties and an agonizing ache between your thighs. The two were idiots but they’re far from dumb, and you mentally curse both Geto and Gojo for playing games with your pussy the way they were.

So, yeah, though they’re both terribly awful in their own way, you think Suguru is worse than his best friend. Satoru would pin you to the wall with your wrists above your head, pull you into his embrace and kiss your temples, all because he was so blatantly obsessed with you, yes, but also just to spite Geto who would always be sitting nearby. But Suguru, Suguru was far worse. It was like he made a mission out of toying with Gojo through you. Geto gets to amuse himself with a pissed off Satoru, and he gets to privately indulge in you. Like right now.

“Sug–uru..!”, you cry into his hair, arching into his chest and pussy throbbing against the thigh tucked between your legs. It's embarrassing how just the slow drags of his tongue over your neck and collar is enough to get you riled up like this.

He hums in response but never halts his movements. Teeth graze along your skin as Geto searches for that perfect spot to leave his claim on you, all the while peppering soft kisses in his wake. One hand pulls you harder against his tense thigh, slowly massaging your sobbing cunt against his leg, while the other has a solid grip on the back of your neck. It’s taking everything in him not to fuck you right then and there, especially when you sigh so prettily and whimper Suguru’s name into his ear like it’s the only thing you know. So stunning and so needy when he gives you the slightest touch and your pussy leaves a growing stain on his dark sweats.

"Mmph, g-god-! Su- Suguru-, ah—!"

Your voice comes out a jumble of moans and whines as teeth finally sink into your skin, followed by a harsh suck along your neck. Your grip will be sure to leave those crescent marks in Geto’s shoulder blades, even through his shirt. Quivering legs squeeze around Suguru's thigh, and you feel like such a dumb dog humping his leg so hopelessly the way you are. You've only ever been touched like this in your dreams, and it feels a million times better when it's by someone like Suguru. His steady movements don’t reveal the way he’s almost falling apart at the seams. You can’t tell in your drunken haze, but if you paid the slightest bit more attention, you’d feel the solid outline of his weeping cock against your leg.

His motions remain soothing and calm, like Geto had this all planned out for ages and knows exactly what he's doing. He’d like to chalk it up to just being a pro, but really it’s because all these lewd gestures are so new to your body. You're obviously inexperienced and his touch is like a gradual, warm fire trailing over your skin; it leaves you so excited and craving for something, anything more from him.

Suguru pulls back to admire his handywork: a nice dark blemish on the sweet spot of your neck that would surely be a prominent display (unless you planned on rousing Gojo's suspicion further and wearing winter clothes in the blistering summer heat), the shivering of your limp limbs because no doubt you just came in your panties, and that adorable, blissful look on your face. He can see the faintest of perspiration forming on your skin. Eyes squeezed shut, nipples erect beneath your top, and panting like you’ve just been fucked senseless.

Suguru chuckles at the sight. Aren’t you cute? He can't wait to have his way with you, really give you something to lose your breath over.

#suguru geto smut #suguru geto x reader #geto x reader #suguru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut

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