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#not cause I was sad per se
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Just realizing how traumatic it was for 8 yo me to be in the room as my great-grandmother died and how I still carry around the weight of that experience…
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astuteobservations · 2 months
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I fear I am exhibiting depressive qualities
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futureplayboibunnie · 11 months
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Spiderman Kiss
Miguel O’Hara x fem! black cat! reader
- i wanted to write a little fluffy, very flirty upside down romantic rainy spiderman kiss w miguel just because. black cat is in almost every spiderman story and i really wanted to include that for this one cause she’s a badass. just a cute little blurb to get me out out of my writing slump, i was thinking of making a part 2 cause lawd it’s steamy. (yeah i did make a part 2 im just too lazy to link it😔)
warnings: there is some dirty stuff, lil bit filthy but just a lil bit (i’m the worst) streamy sloppy makeout but overall just some romance for y’all.
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You were walking on the damp, cold streets of New York, the soft pitter-patter of rain colliding with your umbrella as your sad eyes were glassy, street lamp lit. The neon buzzing and humming a little in the air as the dark clouds rolled over your head, promising heavier rain in the next few hours. Your boots were fitting for the autumn chill, your little black dress and a mid-length trenchcoat made you look like a detective from a shitty 50s novel, but it was fitting. It felt…romantic. As you walked down the street you caught yourself smiling at nothing. Well, not 'nothing' per se.
Spiderman.
Miguel O'Hara.
The self-appointed leader of the infamous Spider Society, aptly remembered as the Spider with the stick up his ass and a temper akin to that of a raging bull being flagged down by a red tarp. He had been on your coattails for months now. The Black Cat. The thief. One wrong-manicured finger or one slip of that vulgar tongue could end in you being an anomaly, which is a bigger problem than just a petty thief. Miguel wasn't from your universe but he had been watching you from afar...just to keep a watchful eye on you, making sure you were behaving yourself-which was never the case. What was jarring though is that he never stepped in on you making your own mess, he just surveilled you. You never seemed to notice and even if you did, you wouldn't care or give him the time of day.
Miguel watched you stroll confidently as the rain hit his broad shoulders, he had never seen you so casual. He cocked his head to the side to survey you from the rooftop you weren't far away from. You didn't fear the elements, the elements fear you. You boasted a certain naturality, your eyes glassy and the bridge of your nose pinched a pretty pink. Huh, cute. He dismissed the thought as quickly as it came, his eyes narrowed as your hair bounced with each step, lips parting in the process as the cold chilly air started to get to you. See, Black Cat was this force of nature, mysterious, sexed up, a siren seducing her prey into a strangle. Black Cat always gets what she wants, those silk lips ready to bite and those eyes ready to roll back like second nature. Miguel wanted to turn a blind eye to you acting in such a way but he couldn't help but admire your tactics: men would quite literally throw themselves at you, they would beg at your feet, they would lick the ground you'd walk on, they would be desperate for mercy and you didn't even have to touch them to do it. It was something that you just had the ability to do.
But now, here you are. Without the mask. Without the suit. Beaming against the damp night, giving him the opportunity for him to see who you really are when you're not being someone else. Showing the real you when no one else was looking. Miguel had a problem with admitting things. He could never admit when he was wrong, he could never admit the thoughts that buzzed his brain awake at night because no one would understand. You were dangerous, you were a threat. Then why did he want you? Why were you his calling? Why did he catch himself thinking of you?
Miguel was agitated because of it, acting out in the shadows, being more aggressive and hot-headed than usual. He had to do something about it.
Miguel swung to the alley that you were just about to walk past, hanging upside down from the metal fire exit. Thank God for his adhesive feet. Your boots clacked as you walked past the opening. Something blue and red flashed against the corner of your eye and you stopped in your tracks, the breath almost leaving your lungs dry. You couldn't believe it. You scoffed, a smile tugging your lips upwards as your tongue licked at your back teeth.
‘’Late night?’’ Miguel questioned in that low voice of his, you turned your head to face him squinting your eyes slightly. ‘’Couldn't risk getting your hair wet, could you?’’He insulted but there was a playful tone in his voice. Fuck you. You make him playful. He's always fucking serious- the weight of the multiverse rested on his broad shoulders, and here you are not doing anything and he was already letting go. He really needed to check himself.
‘’Take off the mask, couldn't risk getting your hair wet, could you?’’ You walked towards him as he dangled upside down, his massive reached for the flexible fabric of the mask and pulled it off of his insanely structured face.
Lord above, even upside down he looked fucking delicious, his bone structure and dark eyes made an ache form inside of you. A few strands of his raven locks stuck to his forehead due to the rain. He looked dreamy, you couldn't fucking lie about that. You had eyes, after all, you weren't blind.
‘’I think we know each other enough to not be bound by masks.’’ You added completely serious but a smirk played on his lips and his gaze softened just a little but enough for you to notice.
‘’Mask or no mask...’’ Miguel trailed off, unsure of how to finish his sentence.
‘’What are you doing here, Miguel?’’ Your voice was above a whisper as your gaze fell to his lips. This was coming from a case of genuine and undying curiosity- Miguel always has so much to deal with. What made you worth the precious minutes of his day? Well other than being a criminal, today wasn't one of those days though. ‘’You want me to prove to you I can get my hair wet?’’ You closed your umbrella and the droplets of rain started to dampen your hair and slide through the strands.
He couldn't give you an answer, he just cocked his head and looked at you. Fuck, you were beautiful. It was almost scary. You raised your eyebrow at his silence, his face went hard like his thoughts were racing a million miles per hour. And they were, relentlessly. A few burrowed thoughts pierced through the front of his mind.
Miguel let himself be selfish and he let himself wander when it comes to you. He wanted to fuck you, any red-blooded man would. He didn't want you to do all the work though like you usually would expect, he wanted to worship your body and praise you. He wanted to paw at you like an animal. Hold your hips down as he kissed and bit down your thighs, eat at you, devour you, spending hours at a time just tasting you to make you feel good.
Though he did want to take you over his knee for so blatantly misbehaving. Oh, but he did find it impossibly cute though when you were trying to act all smart defying his orders- you'd end up on his knees, ass up face down. Whimpering and on the verge of tears as he had to spank and fuck the disrespect out of you. The dirty thoughts so obviously transferred onto his face, his eyes darkened instinctively as he glared at your lips, he was worried his fangs would pop out unprovoked. The sexual tension between you two was astronomical and difficult to ignore. He didn't want to ignore it anymore, it was affecting him in so many different ways.
‘’You're a million miles away.’’ You bit your lip, eyes going heavy as your perfectly manicured hand tangled in his hair. Fuck, your touch was like magic.
‘’Stop biting your lip. I need to do that instead.’’ Miguel whispered. Your mouth popped open slightly at his words but you definitely knew this was the PG clean version of what was actually going on in his head.
‘’I'm afraid you'll tear them right off.’’ You flirted back, the proximity between you closing with every second.
‘’No, you're not.’’ Miguel's eyebrows furrowed as if he could read your mind. You swallowed the lump in your throat as his response started to shimmy and have an effect all over your body, your eyes widened and you wet your lips with your tongue. A daring invitation.
Miguel closed the gap between you, the rain sliding across his face as he leaned in to capture your lips with his. You expected his kiss to be mean and filled with anger, he was half expecting you to grab his lips and cut them off with a pocket knife for being so callous but no. It was soft. Sensual. Romantic. It felt...meaningful.
You moaned a little and he took it as an opportunity to open your mouth wider to slip his tongue in. It was slow. Messy. Wet. Tongues gliding against tongues, he even nibbled at your lips with his fangs. The strings of saliva kept pulling you back together like an invisible string. It felt so wrong but so good. It was a sloppy kiss turned makeout session, you swear your heart was burrowed inside of your throat as the butterflies in your tummy were starting to turn into hummingbirds. That ache he was making you feel was unmatched. Damn, that's surprising.
‘’Ah.’’ You moaned softly against his lips, finally detaching yourself even though it pained you to do so. Those soft noises shot down all the way to his cock. What was he, a fucking horny teenager? He wanted to hear you moan into his ear. You smiled as you pulled back from his mouth, your tongue darted out and flicked against his lightly protruding fangs, and licked it all the way to his bottom lip. Jesus Christ, you were fucking toying with him. It was like a cat and mouse game with you but in this case, it was cat and spider. You lifted your head to stare into the dark abyss of his eyes and to your surprise they were gleaming. You ruffled your hand into his damp hair messing it up for him as to further prove your point.
‘’I usually hate spiders. Cats eat spiders.’’ You mused.
‘’Do you now?’’ He teased back. ‘’It seems like you don't hate them enough.’’
‘’I like that you've been watching me, Miguel.’’ You exposed that you knew what he's been doing, the man is 6'9 he's not good at hiding things.
‘’Needed to make sure that you've been behaving.’’ He said huskily and it made your knees buckle a little.
"You already know that I haven't been."
"I should punish you.’’ He scolded coldly, he was being deadly serious and you fucking loved it
‘’Swing by my universe whenever bug boy.’’ You pressed a soft kiss to his lips and he was salivating yet again. And bug boy? That's just unforgivable. ‘’Call me.’’ You smirked playfully, giving into your teenage fantasy of a boy falling head over heels for you, wrapping the telephone cord around your finger and twisting it whilst whispering sweet nothings across the line. But you were both far too dangerous to have anything normal.
‘’Maybe I will.’’ He replied in a rich low tone that made your insides melt, he said it like it was a promise.
You shuffled his hair one last time before your eyes fell on his, eyebrows wilting as an expression of sad tenderness. ‘’Goodbye, Miguel.’’ You breathed as if it was the final moment you’d share with him, finally taking the necessary steps back to successfully be back on the main pavement. You opened up your umbrella and then you were gone, Miguel sighed.
‘’Parting is such sweet sorrow.'’
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sunlit-mess · 7 days
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you are criminally underrated. *holds out hands like a sad victorian child* any tips for a young artist? :)
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im a very. tired. artist.
To aspiring artists, I'm not sure what 'tips' or advice I can give that were not already said by another. However, I'll remind you anyway.
"There's no secret to art... just begin and keep going. That's all we can do."
Always set your pace, and take your time learning. Art is something that isn't rushed, rather it grows through experience. Think of it like exp points or something, the more you gain, the more you know and skills acquired. It doesn't mean you HAVE to abide by the principles or rules either, though it's best to know them. Knowledge comes in different ways and your method is yours to explore.
As for motivation, it's something you'd find attached to, a mission and values thing per se. Find your dedication, how will you strive, how much are you willing to pursue. What keeps you going? What WILL keep you determined?
We take criticism critically: Don't get your ego attached to every work, everyone has their own perspective. What I mean to say is to understand errors and find improvement. Be HONEST with yourself and your work. Nothing is ever wrong in art, hell- even the most fucked-up ones can look so beautiful and meaningful.
In social media or sharing artworks, it's cool to show them to your friends or relevant platforms your craft would be in, just gotta learn the long process of algorithm somehow... It's a pain, but never lose confidence! Believe in yourself. Even the tiniest of work, effort is counted as special. Because it's from you!
Lastly, enjoy what you do! Have fun once in a while, and best that you find fun all the time in your crafts! You create for a cause and not just to please. Art shouldn't be a cause to break you, rather it builds you.
I hope this message is enough? ::)
I've been drawing since I was young, now as an adult- my art is meh compared to other artists out there, but I still try my best to keep my mark around.
So much has happened in my life and I'm still VERY lost, especially in a path as an 'Artist'. Though, I fell off in art, burned out, and relapsed more than I can count,
nothing or no one can kill the part of me that just wants the world to see that I can still... Create.
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ghost-bxrd · 3 months
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So with Fae!Dick, we all know that Bruce is just… not gonna say anything bc of his own mental health, but do you think the other batkids notice anything once they come along?
On one hand, I think someone would have to notice. If not Jason, then Tim, Steph, Barbara, or Damian bc, well, they’re BATS. They literally have been trained to notice things.
On the other hand, though, I think it would be HILARIOUS if they just attributed Dick’s Fae nature to him just being weird. Like, completely unaware he isn’t human. Maybe not entirely realistic but I think it leaves for some interesting comedic moments 😅
Honestly at one point I think it all devolves into plausible deniability. 😭😂
Jason is the first to notice something amiss, obviously. But he joins Bruce in pretending it‘s just Dick‘s general weirdness. After all, as long as the dog just howls once in a while it’s not necessarily a wolf, right? And Dick, after the initial hang up and trying to kill him a little, is sweet as a summer‘s day to him and viciously protective to boot. Galas and all the rich people there that used to treat Jason like a circus animal aren’t a problem anymore because Dick always swoops in like a bat out of hell and distracts the creepy old ladies with a charming smile until they walk away with vacant eyes. It‘s all pretty funny. And very weird. But hey, Jason gets a laugh out of it and that secretive little grin from Dick so whatever.
Tim I headcanon has Dick all figured out within a month of officially meeting him (the opposite of this would be Tim never figuring it out which is also kinda funny and just attributing it to his circus past or something) and is veeery cautious about interacting with Dick for a time. It makes Dick kind of sad and Tim can only withstand the puppy eyes so long until he caves.
Steph just kinda shrugs and accepts Dick‘s strangeness at face value. It ain’t hurting her so why should she bother? Dick is cool. She likes Dick. End of story, thank you and good day. And yeah, fine, some of his habits are downright weird and everything but who is she to judge? And he‘s always down to cause mischief with her which is?? Super cool???? Even the more devious pranks she can bribe him into joining by handing him a jar of fresh honey or hand picked fruit!! Anybody trying to say shit about Dick lands them on her hit list, period.
Cass is Cass. Nobody can fool her. She may not know what Dick is, but she‘s painfully aware he‘s other. Most wildlife treats him like bees would their queen, there‘s always the scent of pines and rain following him. Dick‘s body language says ‘playful-content-happy’ but his eyes say ‘dark-dangerous-predator’. It’s all very conflicting; a study of contradictions. Cass learns to go by what his body language says and quickly finds a kindred spirit in Dick, who somehow always seems to know exactly what she tries to express but has trouble translating into words.
I headcanon Damian grew up with folklore so while his first theory may not be “fae” he definitely has Dick down as something other than human. Which means he must be powerful. Which means Damian must keep himself in Dick’s good graces in the hopes of making the creature teach him how to be powerful in turn. And, well, the kid grew up with a grandad that regularly takes dips in a magical swimming pool. I don’t think there’s much that can genuinely shock him lol.
Duke is… well, he’s the sensible one so of course he’s the first one to actually ask questions. And then proceeds to go nearly insane because??? Nobody seems to?? Care???? That Dick just rotated his head a full 360°???? Or that the manor sure af isn’t supposed to??? Randomly add hallways???? Or that there’s a whole ass SWAMP that appeared in the basement overnight???? Or a door that leads straight into the forest?????? Duke very nearly nopes the hell out because that’s too much even for him. But finally, finally someone takes pity on him (I headcanon it’s Cass) and she doesn’t explain anything per se, she just kind of… shows Duke. Shows him around the manor, introduces him to twisting halls and strange rooms, takes him to where Dick is lounging with the rest of the family, purring like a content cat. And Duke still doesn’t understand, not completely, but Dick smiles at him with too many, too sharp teeth and tugs him into the huge cuddle pile and?? Are those feathers on his neck?? No, he must have imagined it. Anyway, Duke thinks he can handle this… strangeness, if it scores him a family like this. It’s Gotham, right? Weirder things happen here on the daily.
Omg this turned into a whole ass essay I’m so sorry 😰😅😭✨
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diejager · 2 months
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Can the twins manipulative tricks only be aimed towards their fathers? ‘Cause like damn, give reader a break and two bc it’s just fuckin’ funny?
Imagine manipulating and controlling for so long that it comes full circle and bites them in the ass by their kids? 😂😂😂
Ooo shit, if we could idk mess this one a bit just imagine the twins are competitive. Poor obsession rubs off on them, as they grow older they hate when their fathers have reader’s attention bc like “EXCUSE ME!? That’s our mother!? She needs to love us more than you!!” a bit of fluff sure—
But the obsession can turn into incest and/OR—
Twins kidnap mother bc they love their mama that much, possessive and obsessed, reader still can’t escape whether it’s her ‘husbands’ or kids (tbh probably doesn’t mind the kids as much since yeah— their offspring and “mother love” instincts.) 🫢
[Corrupted Anon]
The manipulation wouldn’t even work on you, you know them too well for that, but they’re psychic little things, they know when you’re sad and when you’re happy, and they’re mama’s kids. König and Horangi use it knowing full well how it helps them manage you, but aren’t so observant when it comes to being manipulated, so they don’t truly know that their sweet babies are manipulating them for the smallest things, either for them or for you.
And honestly, some good competition is always healthy, as long as it’s not dangerous, but if it means monopolising your attention? The twins had that down the moment they were born, pampered little gremlins that always cry for you or call mama whenever you’re gone for too long, be it a few minutes or an hour, they don’t really care. The dads find it cute, but it’s a slight thorn on their side when the twins grow up to be more demanding and protective of you.
But I don’t think they’d kidnap you, per se. It’s more so an act of liberation for you and them getting to love you without the overbearing and looming shadows of their fathers. A good daughter and son to care for their sad mother, free of the oppression but still loved. Yoon-Suh and Leon don’t kidnap you, they take you with them, away from your husbands. It’s an act of deliberation, and you can’t help but see it that way since they’d always done what they could to keep you happy.
Ps. Corrupted anon, is there an emoji you want to use or just be called Corrupted??
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pensat-i-fet · 7 months
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Better than me (Rúben Dias x Reader)
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**Back with another request. For this one, I was asked to write about Rúben feeling a little insecure and jealous too. I think it turned out quite cute so hopefully you enjoy too ❤️**
Word count: 2561
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"We're fucked!"
Rúben was in a terrible mood after the match. They won, so that was good. But Rodri, arguably their most important player, got a red card. So he was bound to miss at least the next three matches. Fantastic.
"Huh?", you asked, quickly looking up from your phone while he drove.
"The next few matches. It'd be hard to win without Rodri".
"Well, sure. But they have you so it'll be fine".
He wasn't so sure but appreciated your compliments and optimism.
Rúben hadn't been feeling very optimistic himself lately. Or great. And one of the main reasons for that was you. Not that you had done anything per se but…the insecurity he felt was mainly caused by your intelligence and your friendship with Rodri.
You had met Laura, Rodri's partner, at work. Both of you being young doctors, an instant friendship blossomed between you two. Also, you always wanted to learn to speak Spanish so having a Spanish friend was great. And Rodri became a friend quickly too so that was two Spanish friends.
It was through these friends you met Rúben. Laura thought it could be fun to introduce you to each other and play matchmaker. Both of you were grateful for that. And, of course, double dates were a constant occurrence once you and Rúben made your relationship official.
Since everyone always praised Rodri for being the humble guy who went to uni and dated a doctor, and basically not being the typical footballer, Rúben expected the same when people found out about your relationship but…the reaction was slightly different. Not that anyone saw Rúben as stupid or anything but he wasn't considered to be as smart as Rodri. Where was his uni diploma? So what he saw was many comments asking how such a smart woman could be with him. Banter mostly, but it could hurt.
"Do you need help with your wound?", you asked when you noticed you were almost back home.
Rúben had a little wound on his thigh and one of the perks of dating a doctor was that you could look after it.
"I'm good. Thanks".
"It could still get infected, you know?"
"I know. I'm not dumb".
His tone confused you. Where did that reaction come from? But he had been in a terrible mood since the match ended so you guessed it was all about that. Little did you know…
And he had reasons to worry. City were out of the Carabao Cup after losing their match against Newcastle. Rodri didn't play…but neither did Rúben. So none of them were to blame for it.
But then came the Wolves match. Rúben started that match and quickly made his mark…by scoring an own goal. You were watching the match at home and hoping he could turn it around during what was left of the match. Otherwise, he was going to blame himself for the loss. You just knew it.
“Hey”.
“Hi”, he said back, sighing and sitting down next to you.
“Want cuddles?”
“Will they make my own goal disappear?”
“I wish but they can make you feel a bit better”.
You turned the TV off and laid down so Rúben could do the same next to you and you cuddled. It felt nice after a long week at work. And it was nice for Rúben to feel loved after such a tough day.
Rúben’s phone broke the peace and he had to get up to answer it.
“It’s my parents. I’ll be right back”.
You used that time to go to the kitchen and see what you two could have for dinner. And while you were still deciding, Rúben came back from the room.
“Everything ok?”
“Yes, they just wanted to see how I was doing”.
“That’s nice”, you smiled and went back to looking at the fridge. “We don’t have much. Maybe we could order something”.
“Yeah. We’ll go to the supermarket tomorrow. That fridge looks so empty and sad”.
You chuckled. It really did. “We’ll do the shopping list later. Let’s order food now. I’m starving”.
The whole time at dinner, you tried to make Rúben feel better. He could be so dramatic after one bad match and you didn't want him to stay in that mindset for long.
"Ok, dishwasher full and ready. Should we do that shopping list now?"
"Yes!", you answered, getting your notes app ready to write down all the things you needed to get. "Let's not go crazy with the fresh food, we just need enough for you".
"What do you mean? Are you not planning on eating?"
"I won't be here to eat. Didn't you read my text?"
Rúben picked up his phone. He had ignored it after the match, except to answer his parents' call. But there it was, your text. Well, there was more than one but he knew which one you meant. The one where you said you were going to spend a few days in Madrid with Laura…and with Rodri.
You kept checking the kitchen to see what you might need and didn’t notice Rúben staring at his phone.
“I think I need shampoo. I’m going to check”.
He then looked up to see you going to the bathroom and sighed. “I hate this”.
But the next morning, he drove both of you to the supermarket to do the weekly shop. And every time you mentioned picking up something for the trip, he wanted to scream.
“Do you think I need a plug for my chargers? Spanish plugs are different to ours. Or will Laura have enough for all of us? Maybe I should call her”.
“I’m sure Rodri has it all under control”, he muttered and you turned to give him a look.
“Ok? I'll still ask”.
That was the first little dig. Then came the second, and the third…
“Rúben, have you and Rodri had any issues lately?”, you finally asked.
“No. Why would you ask?”
“I don’t know, but you keep being weird whenever he’s mentioned for no reason. Maybe we should cancel tonight’s dinner”.
“Tonight…what happens tonight?”
“Rúben, we talked about having dinner with them a week ago. I put it on your calendar”.
“Right…yeah…no, I’ll go. We’ll go. It’ll be fine”.
And it was fine, for the most part. You still noticed Rúben acting in an odd way but didn’t want to bring attention to it.
“We can’t wait to show you around Madrid”, said Laura. “Well, Rodri will be the tour guide. It’s his city. You’ll love it”.
“I know I will”.
“I actually got the perfect tour ready for you”, told you Rodri. “Since I didn’t have to play, I got some free time to get it all sorted. I checked all the places I think you’ll like to prioritize those. It's a perfect plan”.
“That’s so thoughtful. Thank you”, you said. Your smile was so big and that made Rúben feel so shitty again.
“You’ll have to see if you prefer Lisbon or Madrid”, joked Rodri, winking at Rúben but Rúben didn’t want to laugh.
“Well, Lisbon was amazing so you’ll have to really prepare the best tour to make me love Madrid more”.
“How did Rúben show you his city when you first went there?”, asked Laura. Such an innocent question, but not what Rúben wanted to hear.
“I didn’t prepare anything special. Just showed her around”.
Everyone at the table noticed Rúben’s tone and decided to move on to other topics, but you didn’t get his response out of your head. You couldn’t. So you had to bring it up when you were back home.
“What was all that about at dinner?”
“What do you mean?”
“You got all moody when Laura asked you about us being in Lisbon and seeing the city”.
He sighed. “I just don’t get why you are with me sometimes”.
What was he saying now?
That was a pretty strange statement. And one that made you stop to think about how to approach it.
“I could make you a list”, you tried a joke. Those worked sometimes. But not at that specific moment.
“And then I could make you one that shows why you should be with someone like Rodri instead”.
Someone like Rodri? “Why would I want to be with someone like him?”
“He’s not even your boyfriend and still is better at being one than me. I mean, preparing a tour just for you? Come on. He can do everything better than me. On and off the pitch”.
“Are you bothered by that?”
“I’m bothered by how inferior I feel next to him”.
“Since when?”, he never mentioned that.
“Since the first comment about how hard to believe it was that a doctor would date a football player”.
“But Rodri…he does too. So do others. Didn’t Mata date one? Maybe he still does”.
“Yes, and what do they have in common?”
“They are from Spain?”
Rúben let his head fall and put his hands on his face. It was all in his head, he knew it. He knew you couldn’t understand him. And he felt too dumb to explain it properly.
“They are both humble. Normal. Too normal to be footballers. And smart. Of course business degree Rodri can date a doctor. But me? I’m a joke next to them”.
You sat down next to him and took one of his hands in between yours, placing it on your thigh.
“Rúben, you’re smart. I wouldn’t date you if you weren’t”, he looked away but you continued. “Everyone knows you’re smart. On and off the pitch. You keep being praised for your intelligence all the time. And it makes me proud to see that. Also, you speak two languages fluently and I almost fainted trying to say the few sentences you taught me in Portuguese. That level of fluency takes brainpower. And you have plenty of it”.
“The comments…”.
“Maybe you should stop reading comments of people talking about relationships they are not a part of. What do they know? About you or about Rodri? Nothing. I’m the one who knows you and who chooses to be with you. Shouldn’t my opinion mean more?”
“Yes, but…”, he knew you were right but still didn’t feel like he could accept it fully. “But what if I’m not enough in the future? There is a limit to my intelligence, you know? I’m not studying. I don’t keep on learning like you do. The most I do is watch a documentary every once in a while”.
“I don’t need you to be a bloody encyclopedia, Rúben!”
“But I want to be one so I don’t embarrass you!”
He then got up and even though his back was to you, you could imagine how hurt he looked.
“You won’t embarrass me”.
“I was at that work dinner last month and…I felt so stupid. Like I haven’t before. You know, when you work every day with people who can’t even spell the word encyclopedia, you do feel as smart as one. But then reality hit me. Everyone there was so smart. Like you. That’s the people you work with. And Rodri was chatting with all of them and talking about everything like he was one of them. While I was just asked about my gym routine and what I ate to keep my muscles so big”.
“I’m sorry they made you feel like that”, you said, slowly walking towards him to wrap your arms around his waist. “But just so you know, I would never date a doctor. They’re unbearable”.
You chuckled but he didn’t join you so you squeezed his waist to try and show him your love somehow. It was you who felt stupid then. Not knowing what to do to comfort your boyfriend.
“Rúben, do you want me to stay?”
“No, go to Madrid. Have fun. I won’t ruin your plans”.
“You’re more important than a trip. I can go to Madrid whenever”.
“No”, he turned to look at your face. “I’m stupid, ok? It’s a lot sometimes. And all the comments about Rodrid don’t help. All the stats about how shit we are without him. Those don’t help”.
“Well, whenever you feel like that, talk to me. So I can reassure you about whatever you need to be reassured about, ok?”
He nodded. It was him who needed to hold you tightly at that moment and you felt really happy when he did. And relieved. He wasn’t going anywhere and neither were you.
“Really, I can stay…”.
“No. Go on your trip. I’ll be waiting here for you. And buy me a gift while you’re there”.
“What do people buy in Madrid as souvenirs?”
“I don’t know but I’m sure Rodri will know”.
“Looking forward to that Atleti fridge magnet he’ll make me buy”, you laughed.
**
Your time in Madrid was great. The tour Rodri got ready for you was fantastic. But you missed Rúben. And worried about him. So you kept texting him photos of the places you visited and updating him.
-“You took me to get ice cream the moment we left the house so that's a point for you. 1-0”.
-“Oh wait, Rodri bought us churros. 1-1”.
-“Why are these churros so good? 🤤”
-"I'm buying a churro making machine. I'm having these for breakfast every day. Oh my God!"
-"Laura took me to a park to see turtles. Can we get a pet turtle? 🐢".
-"Also, that's a point for her. Not Rodri. Not such a perfect tour guide if he didn't know I wanted to see the turtles 🤷".
-"Laura filmed me trying to read the menu in Spanish. That video will never see the light of day but I'll let you know it exists and it's incredibly embarrassing".
Rúben was glued to his phone, waiting for the next text. And he sent some back to you, joking about things like how much better the weather was in Manchester.
But as much as he loved the texts, he was so happy when you were finally back.
"I want you to tell me everything you did in Madrid. Even if I've seen it already".
"Oh, get ready for all the anecdotes. I'm not shutting up about it anytime soon", you laughed and then picked up a bag from your suitcase. "They didn't have magnets…".
So you bought him an Atleti keychain.
"What do I want this for?"
"To piss João off when you see him?", you shrugged and made Rúben laugh. It was a good reason to keep it.
A few days later, City lost another match. This time against Arsenal, so it hurt even more. And the press were back to talking about how bad the team performs without Rodri.
Rúben was going back to Portugal after the match for international break, but you wanted to make sure he was fine before he got on the plane and called him.
"I'm not listening to any of it. Don't worry".
"Pinky promise?"
His chuckle made you relax a bit. "Pinky promise".
You stayed on the phone for a bit longer and then it was time for him to get on the plane.
"You know, Rúben. You never asked me which city I liked more. Madrid or Lisbon".
"Ok. Which one did you like more?".
"Lisbon. Do you wanna know why?"
"Sure. Why?"
"Because I was there with you".
344 notes · View notes
corollaservant · 1 day
Text
Lotus // Choso x f!reader (18+)
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Summary: He was supposed to have his brother's undivided attention. Until he invited you over for summer break. Since he loves him that much, you're the one who's paying. (5.8k)
Warnings: 18+ dark, dubcon/noncon elements, college, f.masturbation, use of "nii-chan" from Yuji, obsession/yandere brother, degradation, humiliation, violence, dacryphilia, breath+impact play, unprotected sex, dom!choso, reader gets a sunburn but it's mentioned 1x? and only as feeling pain
A/N: yk how everyone always makes Choso the nerdy, creepy, virgin perv (he totally is)? well i kinda want it reversed. [ao3]
Choso loves his family. That's why he doesn't like you.
Seriously, couldn't his brother not bring you over his place for summer break? He gets it, Yuji is young and can never say no, his best friend turned him down for a summer course and Choso guesses you were his second choice. Though Yuji would never tell him that. Or you for the matter. Choso can't wrap his head around why Yuji likes you so much. He knows his brother, no actually—he loves his brother so he knows it's not some crush otherwise Yuji would've shyly approached him and confessed. It seems like his brother just genuinely has a great time with you and that pisses him off. You're loud, that's fine, so is Yuji. But Yuji’s smart, caring, sensitive. You on the other hand... you break things on your way, stumble, laugh obnoxiously and make a mess in his clean kitchen. You're insufferable. So of course, Choso scoffs and rejects Yuji's offer at first.
"She's not coming over, Yu." He tells his little brother, "This was supposed to be our bonding time, remember? I planned out both weeks for us." Choso was excited—he really was. Getting to have his brother around was the best thing that could've happened to him. He'd take Yuji to the movies, carousel, beach, for beers; ok, no, he laughs, he'd definitely get them in a club, maybe a casino? Some strip show? Yuji was an adult now and Choso couldn't wait to listen to his college stories; though he knew there probably weren't many, judging by how nice his brother was. Really, a very likeable kid (adult, he corrects himself).
Yuji begs him. Tells him you'll help around the house, says you've never travelled before, you don't have any plans and you won't cause trouble. It's when Choso starts doubting himself. Ok sure, Choso isn't young per se, but he's definitely fun to be around, right? Does his brother seriously not think he's cool enough anymore? Would he be sad if he said no? He can't stand the thought of making his brother sad. Not because of him, that's certain. This is why he now has you in his house strutting around in flimsy shorts and a barely covering shirt, puffy eyes from your sleep and messy hair. On his kitchen counter asking if there's coffee. He scoffs.
"I made some. For Yuji. You can get some yourself.” He's been up hours ago, went for his run and excitedly waits for his brother to wake up. But now you’re there. Choso couldn't wake Yuji up, he practically spoiled him anyway he could, sleep was no exception. However, you and Yuji unfortunately do not share the same schedule so he is cursed (because blessed would be a euphemism at best) with your presence.
"Alright, damn." You groan, ever since you got there, he seems constantly pissed off with you, but you just woke up, you’re groggy and in his house so you can't do much but yawn. You walk past him, he's too absorbed in his phone, not bothering to look. 
"When do you think Yuji will be up?" He asks, as the smell of coffee suddenly makes you feel alive again.
"Oh I don't know, I'll wake him up soon, we'll go for a swim today." You giggle, you'd been so excited to go to the beach, swimsuits were the first thing you packed. Yuji told you about this beach he wanted you to go to, you’d promised to bring your polaroid and take pictures.
"No, you're not." Choso lifts his head up as he puts the phone down. "Me and Yuji have plans today. You can chill here, we'll be back before 9." It’s sharp and sounds non-negotiable as you stop in your tracks.
"What plans? I didn't know—"
"Why would you? This is our day, you guys can hang later or whatever." But Choso is already pissed. Like actually pissed. If you don’t know then…hadn't Yuji told you or were you just that dumb? He weighs in on the latter. Regardless, he can't argue with a girl his brother's age.
"But I–" You try to protest, as you stand next to the counter, your mug in your hands and you haven't even taken a sip when you’re cut off.
"I'll go wake him up now. Oh, and wear some proper clothing, will you? You've taken this family trip way too seriously." He spits and heads upstairs, leaving you dumbfounded. Coffee suddenly doesn't make you feel that alive. 
-
Yuji is sad. Sad because none of you want to compromise. Choso arranged for them to rent bikes and tour around town; the boardwalk along the seafront was ideal for the activity. His brother had always been athletic and loved the idea so Choso had contacted the shop owner to rent in advance. He knew he was creepy, who the hell rented a bike a week prior? It’s not like they wouldn’t find one. Still, the store closed at 4 PM and it was already past one (Yuji and his sleep) so they’d have to hurry. He’d prepared lunch and was excited for some brotherly time. As for you? Choso honestly didn’t care. You could go for a walk for all that mattered, it’d be four hours at most, you’d be fine. But then there was you, reminding Yuji of the impulsive promise he gave you twelve hours ago. The truth lies in the middle. Yuji mixed up the days—could you blame him? You and Choso bombarded him with plans and ideas meanwhile the poor boy only wanted to rest and enjoy his vacation. So he’d told you about today, when he’d promised Choso days ago. 
‘’Guys, I’m so sorry.’’ Yuji frowns as you both look at him. ‘’I promise, we can do both! One has to call it off so we can do theirs tomorrow.’’ His eyes gleam like usual, but he looks anxious. Probably because he knows both of you. 
‘’But you promised me first.’’ Choso speaks, he doesn’t sound condescending, he’d never raise his voice at his baby brother.
‘’Yeah, well he promised me yesterday!’’ You retort childishly. It’s like a race you two have, who will answer first, a competition, who can win Yuji over.
‘’Please don’t fight, we can do both, come on now, who wants to do their activity tomorrow?’’ Yuji sighs, looking across the kitchen table. He’s the youngest, but he sounds like a kindergarten teacher at the moment.
‘’Yuji, what do you want?’’ Choso emphasizes. Good, that should give him his answer, he thinks.
‘’Yeah, Yuji, why don’t you tell Choso our plan is waay more fun?’’ You consider sticking out your tongue but one look at Choso and you keep your mouth shut.
‘’You know I can’t choose! I love both.’’ He pouts. ‘’Don’t make me do this, can’t you guys figure it out on your own? I’m serious. I’m sorry…” Yuji’s eyes fall. Choso can tell and he suddenly feels responsible. Not for his plans, no. For seeing a sadness cross his brother's face. His heart aches seeing him so passionate to end this stupid debate, so caring, never wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings. He deep down wishes he came first. Choso’s older now and he realizes he can’t continue; a sigh leaves his lips as he speaks up. 
‘’It’s fine, Yu. Be back soon.’’ He backs off. Again. He has to put up a front for his brother. He doesn’t bother giving you a glance, as he exits the kitchen. He wonders if he’s ever despised someone that much before. To the point of choking them…no, not that. That’d be too nice for you. You deserve an agonizing death. He imagines your body stretched out on a medieval rack as your limbs crack one by one. You hadn’t been there more than a day and you were already fucking up his schedule. And in his own house, too. As if dressing like some whore wasn’t enough, seriously what ever happened to modesty? In his head his thoughts make sense, a stranger meddling in his newly amended relationship with his brother. Did you even know how much he cherished him? The lengths he’d go to protect and be there for him? This summer break was supposed to be more than a brotherly reunion. He wanted to be Yuji’s friend this time. He bets you don’t even know what it’s like to have no one around. 
He might go for another run, he considers. You’d be gone within a week. But even when his thoughts subside, he still thinks of ways to put you in your place for good.
-
By the time you’re home, polaroids in your bag and salt on your skin, Choso is pacing up and down the living room. It’s 8:30 PM and Yuji hasn't texted him since noon. 
‘’Where the hell were you, Yuji?’’ Choso completely ignores you as he looks at his brother, who is licking off a half melted ice cream and flaunts a newly acquired tan.
‘’Did you get a sunburn?’’ Choso’s anxious, damn it that kid, always failing to reapply SPF.
‘’I’m fine, nii chan.’’ Yuji laughs, as some ice cream falls on the floor. ‘’I’ll go take a shower or do you wanna go first?’’ He asks you.
‘’She can go first.’’ Choso tells him and you’re taken aback.
‘’Really?’’ You sound surprised. There’s no way he’d ever be kind to you, you knew that seconds after you met him. 
‘’Yeah, want to have some time with Yuji, before we head out.’’ He sounds casual as he brings a wipe to clean Yuji’s ice cream. His back muscles flex under his compression shirt, he looks kind of messy, had he worked out again? Unruly hair falls on his eyes as you try to tear away your gaze.
‘’C-cool.. I’m going upstairs.’’ You announce and leave, stumbling on the first step. What did you think of right now? 
Choso’s bathroom is spacious and allows you to take your sweet time rinsing salt and sunscreen off your skin. Yuji may have not been sunburnt but you couldn’t say the same. Your skin aches as you lather your back and thighs, were you sunburnt everywhere? You make a mental note to apply some moisturizing cream you brought. You had a good time with Yuji, he told you about his best friend’s summer course (financial crime, corruption and money laundering— dude sounded weird) and not being able to make it, how they’d meet and how his relationship with Choso had drastically changed in the span of a year. Yuji didn’t even know about Choso and took some time to warm up to him. As his brother, that is. But Choso was the best brother he could have, he told you. You had trouble believing that. Choso’s demeanor was far from.. best. You sigh remembering your brief coffee encounter. How he’d looked at you above his phone, his cold eyes with tired bags under as his long hair fell on his face, unruly and..sexy. What? Why do you think that? Your mind goes through images like a film projector—his long torso peeking under his compression shirt as he stretched and accidentally revealed a v-line and a happy trail. You feel a sting as water falls down the drain; the lotus and white tea fragrance from the body foam he has envelops your face. You close your eyes and think of him in more…compromising scenarios. Behind you for example. Strong arms snaking around your waist as he presses against you, droplets falling between you while his mouth latches on your neck. A muscular, veiny hand finding your chest and caressing gently…only to move to your lower belly and lazily circle around the entrance. You fight the urge to let a soft moan as you imagine him teasing. Yeah, he’d definitely tease your slit up and down, pecking on your neck until you begged. ‘’Choso..please! J-just one finger!’’ and he’d laugh, mouth contracting on your delicate neck and rubbing around your clit. You’re getting yourself off, what the hell are you doing right now? But could you really blame yourself? You never thought of Choso like that but you do now so you can’t question it further. You let a finger slip slowly inside you. It’s wet and fills you up well—not as good as you think Choso’s thick, calloused fingers would, but it does the job. You wonder how good he’d feel and you’re getting yourself off only by picturing his fingers. You’re suddenly interrupted by a knock on the door. 
‘’Aren’t you done yet? It’s been half an hour. Get out.’’ Choso growls behind the door, you remove your finger and quickly gulp down. 
‘’I’m almost done.’’ You faintly say, shit, the man you had fingers in your cunt for, interrupted your daydream…of him. You quickly rinse off excess shampoo and exit. God, you needed to get laid instantly. 
-
When you come downstairs, Yuji is nowhere to be found. Choso is sitting on the couch, the TV plays a show he doesn’t watch as he scrolls on his phone.
‘’Where’s Yuji?’’ You’re wearing Yuji’s old T-shirt from when he was a gamer and skater and nothing under it. In your defense, it’s long and covers almost up to your knees. He doesn’t turn around.
‘’He left. Sent him off to meet his friend, his parents dropped him off.’’
‘’What friend?’’ As far as you knew Yuji told you all his friends were busy with summer courses.
‘’His best friend, Megumi, don’t even know that?” He sneers. Megumi? The money laundering guy?
But he—
‘’He’s not staying long.’’ He has to be joking. 
‘’Why didn’t you tell me? I wanted to meet him, Yuji told me–’’
‘’Why should I? Yuji needs time with some real friends. Told him you felt sick or whatever.’’ 
‘’Are you serious? Why would you do that? Where are they?’’ You can’t believe this guy, first he treats you like a pile of shit, then he’s nice to you by offering you to go first…wait. Did he send you up first so he could convince Yuji to go out without you? Could he be so shitty?
‘’Oh my fucking God, that’s why you told me to shower first didn’t you? What did you even tell Yuji?’’ This guy is unbelievable and you fight the urge to rip his hair out from the back. 
‘’Does it matter? He’s already gone. Serves you right.’’ Choso sounds relaxed, like he just stated tomorrow’s itinerary. 
‘’And what am I supposed to do here, huh? God, you’re so fucking annoying, I swear I’m texting Yuji right now.’’ You realize your phone’s upstairs and before you can turn around, a strong palm grabs your wrist forcefully.
‘’One more step and you’ll be spitting blood.’’ His eyes burn as you feel the pain from his grip.
‘’Let— go...’’ You ask, more like beg as he throws your hand away, it burns, partly due to the sun but also from the pressure of his grasp. 
You slowly drag your feet to the kitchen as you think of ways to hurt him. You hate this guy, you simply exist and he decides upon making your life living hell. Sure, he doesn’t do anything dramatic but he’s constantly interfering with your friendship. Yuji wants you there, he acts like he’s some unprotected child and constantly monitors him. You grab a glass from the cupboard as you feel the words slip out your mouth involuntarily.
‘’Yuji doesn’t like you.’’ You lie and before you even have the chance to have a sip, the glass soars in the air and falls with a loud thump, shattering in a million pieces as you’re turned to look at him. 
‘’What the fuck did you just say?’’ He spits. He scares you, you think, the way he’s hovering; he seems really angered.
‘’I said–’’ You can’t continue. Because he slaps you. On your face. With his palm. And it hurts so badly, you feel tears prick at your eyes, your wrist hurts and you can’t move around— each time the burn catches up to you. 
‘’Why don’t you say that again?’’ He goes on, he has not moved and still waits for your answer.
‘’S-stop..!” You muffle, as you bring a hand to your face, you want this resolved immediately, you’re kind of defenseless, since your phone’s out of your reach and you are alone. He also is extremely strong and it doesn’t help that you anger him, his muscles tense and you notice the veins on his neck pulsating.
‘’Useless bitch.’’ He hisses, ‘’Yuji doesn’t like me? Look at you and your pathetic self. You think he likes you? Yuji likes everyone, wake the fuck up. At first I thought he fucked you, cause why else would anyone want to hang out with you?’’ Choso is fed up with you. Fed up with being nice, fed up with compromising. In all honesty, he’d probably be fed up with anyone but Yuji, but you’re just the cherry on top. Did you seriously think you could try to contact Yuji? The fact you even dared to speak on his name angers him even more. And that’s why he continues while you break down slowly. 
‘’You come here, in my place to hang out with my brother. Dressing up like some common cockwhore and you know what? I really wouldn’t give a fuck, but taking him away from me? Did you two have fun at the beach? You wanted him to fuck, yeah? Otherwise, what are you even good for?’’ He goes on to bring a hand on your cheeks, squishing and bringing your mouth to open like a fish. Tears that welled up in your eyes now fall sideways as he mocks. Your back slams against the counter, you think you feel your feet touch glass splinters as you tremble. You ache everywhere and he keeps going. 
‘’S–ow-’’ You manage, you can’t articulate coherently and feel nauseous. 
‘’Wanna speak up?’’ His mouth twitches but he still isn’t fully smiling. He has to hide it for now. Each moment that goes by, he feels an immense pleasure. It’s like he takes out all his anger that he kept inside the previous days and he doesn’t want to stop. Not when his palm moves your pathetic face left and right, like he’s viewing some artifact. In the insanity of it all, he feels his cock hard. He is unconsciously rubbing on your t-shirt (Yuji’s t-shirt) and your face looks oddly pretty, puffy cheeks adorned with tears and wide pleading eyes. 
‘’L-uh- oh’’ You try to speak out and he gets exactly what you’re trying to communicate. 
‘’Y-Yu- i’’ You call out his brother's name. Seriously, it's like you’re asking for it.
‘’What about my brother, huh?’’ A hand is removed as more air fills your lungs. You sob. You feel searing pain in your chest, among all other body parts— fingerprints sit on both of your cheeks. 
‘’Y-Yuji— is.. he..is not..’’ You can hardly keep up, he is in close proximity and your tailbone hits against the counter from the way he has his body pressed onto you. A hardness pokes at your belly and you think that this wasn’t what you had in mind in the shower. He is aggressive and looks like he won’t back off soon.
‘’Not what? Speak the fuck up.’’ 
‘’N-not like this.’’ You cry. You can’t understand how these two are even related. Yuji’s a sunshine, the kindest soul you’ve known, of course he wouldn’t want to fuck you, he just felt sorry that you didn’t have plans and offered up some company. He’d do it for anyone. You were naive at times but you knew it was the reason you were there. Yuji couldn’t say no. He must’ve also not been aware of his brother’s rage otherwise you wouldn’t find yourself in this position. 
‘’You’re right.’’ Choso takes you out of your thoughts. ‘’He isn’t. But I am. It’s your lucky day.’’ His left hand is on the counter behind you, so there goes your chance to leave. To your left, there’s an exit. You could run. But your eyes betray you and his palm abrasively pushes your left shoulder back. 
‘’Don’t even fucking consider this.’’ He says as his knee nudges yours to the side. You’re standing the whole time and the rough poke makes your legs buckle—you almost fall but you’re brought to stand upright as he lifts Yuji’s shirt.
‘’Shit, wearing his shirt and everything, as if you’d ever be good enough to be his girlfriend.’’ He mocks, but his eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your chest as you wriggle under him. 
Choso is determined this punishment exceeds medieval torture. And you should definitely look on the bright side, you’d enjoy it by the end.
‘’Finger yourself.’’ He orders and your eyes widen. 
‘’W-what..’’ You tremble. He raises his right hand and you flinch but he goes on to move a strand stuck on your lips.
‘’Stop playing deaf. Touch your cunt like you did in the shower. What? Think I didn’t listen? That’s the type of nasty whore you are.’’
You can’t do it. You can’t— so he does it for you. His right palm brings your hand in between your open legs as you feel your own palm push against your entrance. He touches on your middle finger and slowly brings it in between your lower lips. He slips in your finger, which has to contract by the pressure he’s applying but his rough hand touches you too and you cry.
‘’C-Choso.. s—stop..’’ He moves your finger up and down your pussy, which lubricates steadily the more something’s thrusted inside it and then decides to stick his finger too. You gasp as it fills you fully and he finally breaks out a smile, seeing you cute and vulnerable like this really makes his cock hard. Your pretty eyes beg for him to stop but he can’t; it’s too good and you’re almost enjoying it already. 
‘’That’s right. It feels good, doesn’t it? Bet you were thinking about Yuji in the shower, weren’t you? It’s okay, I can show you how I fuck too.” Choso wants to turn you around and stuff his cock inside you without protest but that wouldn’t count as torture so he has to suppress his strained urge. He’ll make good use of that nuisance of a mouth you have first.
Both hands are removed from your cunt, slick trickles down your forcibly open thighs— the position makes your hips automatically open and buck up and you’re panting, scared and embarrassed that your body betrays you. Choso’s face is flushed, a red scarring which you hadn’t seen up close, seems even more crimson, as he gets you off the counter and pushes your elbows down. You’re dropped on the floor, right in front of a long bulge—you can pretty much expect what’s to follow but still make a timid effort.
‘’Cho–Choso, please..’’ but before you know it, his sweatpants are removed and you’re cut off by his cock in your mouth. Salty precum lingers on your tongue—not long, before he starts thrusting his hips in your mouth, fucking your face. You choke and gargle; he’s big and his girth squeezes around your palate as he hits the back of your throat, “Fucking finally..” he groans, “..good for once.” He praises, as if you make some conscious effort. 
He suddenly pulls out—spittle falls down his cock as he grabs you by the roots of your hair. You must be a funny sight, plush, swollen lips, puffy eyes, a wet, anticipating cunt and precum staining his brother’s shirt as he brings his face closer. Something urges him to kiss you. He wants to taste your desperation. He brings his mouth on yours, it’s wet and he pushes his tongue inside, he can taste the fluids as you cry. 
‘’Kiss me.” He says and tries harder. This time you comply, his tongue searches your open mouth as you follow his lead. His right palm rests on the counter behind you, trapping you in an embrace, which oddly enough creates a heat in your core. His mouth, despite the forcefulness, feels soft and you aimlessly try to close your legs in hope the nasty feeling goes away. You smell his scent, it must be his shower gel, lotus…and something else you read on the label but can’t remember now. You let tears fall from your eyes as you try to inhale only through your nose— mouth too occupied being devoured by him. 
Choso loves kissing you. He thinks to himself you are perfect, in your own way. So pretty with your mouth distracted and your legs open. For him, only. Yuji would be off limits after that. Not that you’d approach either one after, he guesses. Your kisses only make him eager to stuff your cunt more, his cock aches by the minute, that’s why he lifts you up. You’re so pliable, he thinks. He manhandles you and all you’ve said is a couple broken ‘’please’’. Did you actually want this? He considers the possibility, he isn’t unattractive in the slightest.
Your shirt has to go. He knows it’s Yuji’s but that doesn’t matter now that it has his precum on it. He finds himself wondering whether he fights internally against Yuji or you right now, seeing how he feels a pang of jealousy towards his little brother. But the idea is crazy so he brushes it off hurriedly. Your soft, squishy tits rise and fall to the pace of your anxiety. 
‘’You have pretty tits, does this hurt?’’ He asks as he slaps across your nipple, the skin around burns tenfold and you cry out.
‘’...h-hurts..’’ You yelp and he feigns sorrow.
‘’Aww, sorry, let me make this feel better. We’ve neglected her for some time, haven't we?’’ He looks at your cunt— glistening and lovely, ready to be defiled as he brings a thumb to play with your clit. 
‘’Spit.’’ You’re not that wet, what? It’s okay, he will change it.
You shyly gather spit and let a small glob fall down his digits as he pumps two fingers abruptly inside. Three strokes and your cunt starts drooling, he enjoys the sounds. But more than anything, he enjoys your tormented face, fighting to admit the pleasure you’re getting. His rough thumb circles around your clit as you’re forced to touch behind his neck to not fall off, you grip down his nape, failing to conceal your moans. 
‘’Cho-choso..mhm’’ You whine, brokenly, it pains you to feel so good, so fast. You don’t want this. You don’t.
‘’...Already squeezing down like some slut huh..’’ It takes Choso a lot of strength to not cum in the air like some loser, he’s delayed this too much and now you look irresistible, being fucked by his fingers on his counter. While you cry. And his brother’s out. 
‘’-Mm- Cho- Choso.. stop!’’ You moan, feeling close to an orgasm as he pumps faster and circles the nub simultaneously. Your fluids stain all the way up to his knuckles and if he keeps this up, you’ll probably coat his palm entirely.
‘’---f-fuck Cho–’’ He removes the fingers just before you can give in to the feeling— you pant frustrated. 
‘’Enough. Let’s test out how well that cunt feels… for a slut like yourself.’’ You want to protest, want to tell him to fuck off and leave you alone, but that’s clearly not an option. In a split second you’re turned over, thrown across the kitchen table, your limbs are stretched out and the direct contact makes you wince, as you clash with your chest. Choso admires the view. Your vulnerable, trembling body is truly exquisite, he spreads your legs out and you look delicious, ready to be fucked into oblivion.
He gives his stiff cock a couple thrusts, his red tip leaks his precum and he groans before his cockhead bumps with your entrance. You moan and he hasn’t even entered you yet as he brings a hand on the curve of your ass and smacks it. 
‘’Stop being so desperate, it’s embarrassing.’’ He sighs as he rubs his cockhead across your slit.
‘’P–please Cho–Choso..’’ You moan, understanding that you have it bad. ‘’W-want you in me...’’ You can’t even lie to yourself at this point, you’re pent up and need him. The rest of unresolved feelings is something you’ll deal with later. 
‘’Fucking needy slut, maybe Yuji was right bringing you over here. Gonna get fucked by his bro like some passed around whore? Want him to stuff you too?’’
‘’N-no! Choso! P–please ugh.. need you..only you!” You beg as you move your hips, your dignity dissolved a long time ago. 
Choso mumbles something under his breath and pushes his cock to slide in your creamy walls as you moan—desperately. His cock is large and it hurts way more than his fingers, he hasn’t bottomed out yet but you already feel suffocated.
‘’Ch-Choso!’’
‘’What is it, slut? Be patient.’’ He huffs, but he isn’t patient himself as he prods at your cunt deeper, you’re way too tight to take him, squeezing down the entirety (or at least most of what can fit) in your little hole and he has to sigh. Your back muscles contract as your helpless hands tug at the table while he thrusts deeper and deeper, he brings his torso close to yours so he’s next to your hair, which he removes.
‘’Does that feel good? You take me so well for a common whore, baby.’’ He whispers on your neck, you shudder and cry out. 
‘’Mhmagh- Cho-Cho! Y-yes..feels s-so good! Don’t stop! Cho–’’
‘’Are you fucking stupid? Don't…don’t tell me what to do.’’ He straightens himself and grabs your hips. His cock lunges in your cunt, he’s poking at what feels like your cervix, when he slaps your reddened ass. It should appall you, it should make you wince but he notices your pussy tightening and clamping down. So you’re enjoying this? What a nasty fucking slut that you are. 
‘’C-Cho– i ughn I’m cumming fuck!’’ You sob and he fastens his pace. You’re overstimulated, overly teased and over the edge. Your hands scratch against the table as his palms hold your head firm and to the side, he pushes you downward and thrusts his cock in and out, each pump making you gradually lose eyesight until you do… fully. Your vision darkens completely and you blink rapidly as you let go screaming.
‘’C-choso aagh!’’ But he doesn’t listen, his head’s too clouded with the need to fill you up, the need to have his cum seep out your hole as he grabs Yuji’s shirt next to him, rolls it around and hangs it over your neck. You’re being lifted— your back is arched upward, the angle is excruciatingly painful; you’re too sensitive and his cock slides way too deep.
‘’Shit– don’t have much to say now, huh?’’ He asks but you’re choking and fighting for air, your ass bumps against his groin and he needs about three thrusts and a hard final slap on your flesh to finish. 
‘’Fuuuck–shit, r-right there, stay the fuck up!’’ He orders, but it’s not like you have many places to go as you feel a warmth filling you up; it’s funny, you’ve never had anyone come inside before. His load spurts and trickles out and he lets go of the scarf made on the spot, falling on top of you. He slowly slides his softening cock out and doesn’t tell you another word while his chest rises and falls on your back. He can’t lie to himself, you were too nice. The softness in your shivering skin and sad eyes was too kind. Maybe he shouldn’t have been that hard on you, slapping you like some fly. He clears his throat as he climbs off you. You remain laid out, you seem passed out or freshly dead—you sport multiple marks and semen falls down his counter.
‘’We have to clean up before Yuji gets back.’’ You can barely register what he says but you make out the ‘we’ in the beginning. At least he acknowledges your existence, you think as you try to find your friend’s shirt. 
-
When Yuji returns Choso tells him you’re asleep. He can’t let him know he was cleaning bodily fluids off the kitchen counter. Yuji doesn’t ask more, he is excited to let Choso know about Megumi’s course and Choso listens, though he’s tired. By the time Yuji wakes up, you’re gone, having left a note behind that you ‘’didn’t feel well and changed the flight tickets.’’ When he tries calling you, you don’t pick up and he tells Choso.
‘’I’m sure she’s fine.’’ Choso made breakfast— it’s biking day, the sun shines and Yuji actually woke up earlier than expected (11 AM). His house feels silent, empty in a funny way, almost like you left and took its joy with you. Yuji is visibly upset but Choso reassures him everything’s fine.
‘’Yeah… I guess you’re right. You did say she felt sick yesterday..’’ He reminds him. Did he say that? Well, Choso thinks, it definitely sounds better than letting his little brother know of the sickening things he did— your punishment for daring to be his friend. Maybe he wasn’t lying to Yuji when he said that. He wouldn't want to imagine your current state. 
‘’I’ll try again later.’’ Yuji smiles. His voice doesn’t have its usual excitedness but Choso will work on it. He doesn’t have much time. 
‘’We’re still going, right?’’
‘’Sure.’’ Yuji smiles half-heartedly as he stands up.
He heads upstairs and Choso picks up the breakfast plates and puts them in the sink. He stands right at the spot he had you pinned twelve hours ago—defenseless and crying as he slapped you, facefucked you, fingered, choked and ultimately humiliated you. He knows the excuse that he made you cum and the way you looked at him barely holds up. Even if you liked him, it wasn’t right.
He is suddenly overcome by a wave of inexplicable emptiness. It’s a vicious cycle, he thinks. If it wasn’t you, it would’ve been someone else. He would have driven them away from Yuji in an effort to have him to himself. Then Yuji would be sad and he would feel responsible. It wasn’t ever really your fault. Yet, this wouldn’t have happened if you never showed up. It would have benefited all three. Maybe this was never a cycle; the loop would require equal components. You were a labyrinth, a complicated, long path and Yuji was the center. 
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saturnsbabyboii · 1 year
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💚Astro Observations my friend and I came up with while high💚 (Also Cause it’s 420)
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💚I find that Moon signs don’t necessarily fit into their “descriptions” because it’s not who they are per se but rather what they desire when they’re feeling vulnerable and emotional. 
💚 For example, Capricorn Moons aren’t cold, distant and always practical, however, they do desire a more action based kind of support. Rumination and “talking about it” won’t cut it if they don’t have an action plan or something solid (or someone that they considered to be as such) to guide them. 
💚 Another example, Leo Moons aren’t attention seeking but rather they desire to feel seen and heard. They want someone that can understand what they have a hard time expressing, something very troubling for a Leo. They also find themselves able to be more open with people that are authentic about how they feel and their expression, be it verbal or artistic. 
💚 Despite people calling them flighty, Air placements are usually logical and based in reality. They may exaggerate or get too excited but they never pull shit out of vapor or believe it “just because”. Debating them is not for the weak. Not because they’re strongheaded (not always) but because they know what they’re talking about.
💚Earth placements are great liars, cause no one ever suspects them. A good liar is never known as such, hell they make a good living out of it. (Not calling people snakes or fake just that they don’t do something half assed, including the art of deception)
💚 Why couldn’t Cancers be called Lunarians or Lunars? No offense but who in the f thought it was a good idea to call the crab constellation Cancer? The amount of embarrassing cross over that happen means that we require to take action.
❣️Side bar but shout out to everyone that is going through or went through any form of cancer, whether it was you or a loved or anyone that you know. We love and support you, and your resilience is an inspiration and a testament to what’s important in life.❣️ ⠀
💚 The obsession that Aquarius placements have with cyberpunk/cyber core/Dystopian/Apocalyptia/Futuristic aesthetic is wild. They can’t wait until the world end so they can rock that fashion on the dumpster runway.
💚 I honestly associate cats with Virgos not Leos.
💚What’s with Mars in Fire signs/Fire houses (1st/5th/9th) and throwing things. It doesn’t matter if they’re excited, happy, angry or sad they just go ┬─┬ノ( º _ ºノ) then (┛ಠ_ಠ)┛彡┻━┻
💚 Although Scorpios go hard to defend themselves, Taurus would cut a bitch for their love ones. They don’t give a damn what you say about them but you’ll be getting more than what you bargained for when they start swinging out of nowhere after you bring up anyone they love. Especially when it comes to their animals and babies. 
💚 Out of all the Venus signs, I never heard someone talk about liking a Libra Venus. 
💚 Air Mars natives waiting for you to finish talking before they slaughter your ass is amazing to me
💚 Water signs are true foodies. Foodier than Earth signs even. Water in the 6th house especially can eat a whole cow, or tree if you’re vegan.   
💚 The power of the eyebrow raise that Fire Mercuries make when they know that you got the right one. 
💚 Because time is subjective I believe the 12th house can give us insight on our relationship with it. As a finite part of life, in the house final endings the sign over the house (and the placements as well) can help navigate it. 
💚 For example, Virgo in the 12th may catastrophize and worry about things that are out of their control, such as time, and spend so much of their energy trying to do so. Their growth and ascension into a higher state of mind comes in finding power in learning to separate what we can control and what we can’t, and letting life go as intended without much intervention.
💚 For me, the whole point of learning about astrology is to break your own cycle and to grow out of your birth chart rather than conform to it.
💚Libra placements get so tenacious with age. As they get older, they realize that being in the better graces of others is futile work.
That’s all. I think I might’ve had more but I can’t remember everything we talked about 😅. 
Byeee!
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radiant-reid · 1 year
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Eleventh Hour
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Summary: Spencer's about to move across the country, until his ex-girlfriend gives him some news
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (angst then fluff)
Word Count: 2.1k
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This is not how it's supposed to go.
Or maybe it is.
College relationships are tricky, tumultuous, and the tangling of lives of two changing people. Although it makes her seem cliche, Y/n thought Spencer was different, and she would stick with that opinion to the end. He was wiser than any other college boy and more mature.
Whether they are the right people for each other or not, it's not the right time.
Their breakup wasn't sad, per se. They're both realists for the most part, and ending their relationship was on the horizon for a while. In the final semester of her senior year and Spencer's last semester of all his years of degree-collecting, their lives are about to go in such different ways that being together will cause more problems, making them sacrifice parts of their lives they don't want to.
So it's uncomplicated and much more pragmatic.
But a dangerous touch of hope comes with being a romantic. Those feelings make it hard to hand back each other's things, tell their friends and families, and sleep alone again.
Spencer's realism and romanticism work inversely, the former getting stronger as the latter gets weaker. It's why he never expected her to call.
Now he's sitting in front of her, frowning because something's really wrong. She hadn't looked so distraught when they broke up, but tears prick her eyes while her stomach threatens to evict her lunch.
"What's wrong?" He asks. He would never be able to stop caring about her, and he figures it would take a monster to not care about her after speaking to her just once. It could be about her mom or dad or a friend.
Y/n knew she had to tell him when she found out. Morally, it was the right thing to do, and Spencer deserves to know. Just because it was an easy choice to make doesn't make it easy to do. As soon as she tells him, everything changes between them again. They've gone from strangers to lovers to strangers, and now they're going to be something else. Whatever they're going to be, it's up to Spencer, and there's going to be very little she can do to change his mind about how he feels for her.
She keeps playing with her fingers in her lap, failing to reach the threshold of confidence needed to look at him. "This is... shit- I don't even know how to tell you this, Spence." She admits, heart pounding in her chest.
That makes Spencer even more puzzled. What could she really need to tell him a month post-breakup that was so life-changing. "It's okay." He assures her.
He's back to that old shyness she used to find endearing. She knows it because she can see his itching and resisting to touch her hand. "I'm pregnant." She confesses, biting her bottom lip.
"You're what?" He spits back.
Yeah, it was life-changing news. Earth-shattering.
He's spiraling like he never has before because, holy shit, it's news that he's never heard before. It's news he didn't expect to hear ever, honestly. And not from her, that's for sure.
"Pregnant." She repeats, so it'll sink in quicker. "And I'm sorry."
"It's not your...fault." He tells her, although he doesn't seem genuine.
There's upset in his features, and against her better judgment, she pushes it. "What are you thinking?"
"That I don't want a baby." He snaps, standing up as the realization hits him like a freight train.
It catches her off guard. Majorly. Spencer never, ever speaks to anyone in a tone that short, let alone her. And it makes her want to cry because she needs someone. She had hoped it would be him. Whether it's the new hormones or him being in front of her again, there's a longing for the connection they walked away from.
Her inner romantic wanted him to jump at the chance to have a baby with her, promise they could work things out, and the immense love she's been feeling for him wasn't one-sided.
"Y/n, I can't have a baby. I'm about to move across the country tomorrow." He declares.
It's categorically cold, just factual. That makes it the most heartbreaking.
She actually can't believe what she's hearing. They're young and not together, but she thought he might care a little bit more about the baby that's 50% him and growing inside her. Maybe he isn't as different as she hoped.
"That's why you broke up with me?" She asks, tears clouding her vision.
He doesn't do what she expects, and she's starting to think it's downright stupid that she ever thought he'd wrap his arms around her until she stopped crying. And why is she crying all the goddamn time now?
"Don't do that." He says sternly. "It was mutual."
"It's not now." She informs him, wiping up her tears angrily.
Spencer stops for a moment, taking a breath to avoid saying something he can't take back, something that might ruin his chance at ever getting to meet his child.
"We can't get back together just because we're having a baby." He reminds her. "You have to know that."
Y/n bites her lip, nodding. "Yeah. So this is just me telling you. We can forget everything else."
He's not sure he wants to do that now that she's being so upfront about it, but he's not going to be that contradictory. "Thanks." He whispers. "Whatever you need, let me know. Not that-"
She cuts him off, getting up from the couch and opening the door. One thing- along with the fact he doesn't want to be part of their lives- that she didn't want to hear about is him pledging money, thinking it's the same thing as love or time. "I know." She says, somehow able to get her following words out without crying. "Call me if you ever want to meet an adorable baby."
That makes it real, and his stomach flips in a new but not terrible way. Once she shuts the door on him, he stands there on her apartment step for a whole minute, wondering if he should go back and fix the fuck-up he's just created.
There's not much more crying Y/n can do. She's got a plan, a job lined up for once she gets a degree, and friends who love her. Her baby won't have a dad, though, because she'll never be able to love and trust someone like she does Spencer.
~
Unless someone has taken Spencer's phone, he's calling her early that morning. Something compels her to answer. "This isn't sending the right message." She answers the call, joking to relieve the tension from her major confession less than 12 hours ago.
"I need to send a different message." He confesses, confusing her. She's not going to let herself believe it's good until there's no doubt. "Can you meet me?"
"On this coast." She agrees. It's for her baby, she reminds herself. A baby who deserves a dad, even if he breaks their mom's heart.
"My apartment?" He suggests.
She sighs, resisting the urge to sob about the place she used to spend so much time at. "I can't. Not when your stuff is packed up."
"Some of it's yours." He tells her. "But I can come to you."
That's worse, she decides. She can't have a replay of last night. His apartment will look generic without any mementos in it.
"No, I'll come to you." She decides. "Soon?"
"Whenever you're ready." He assures her, bouncing his knees up and down nervously.
She's not sure what she's doing, and she knows she's dumb for fixing her hair and putting on makeup, but she does it anyway. Then she's out the door before she can rethink her poor decision.
"Coffee?" Spencer offers once she walks in and takes off her shoes.
The walls are bare, and there are no books in the bookcase. It's not Spencer at all which doesn't make her feel better.
Y/n shakes her head. "I can't."
"Fuck, right. Sorry." He stammers out his words. "Do you want to sit?"
She doesn't know what she's doing there, so she nods, sitting down on a couch they'd fucked on so many times it wasn't appropriate. He doesn't follow suit. "Why am I here, Spencer?" She asks.
He snaps out of the trance he's in. "Oh, yeah. Hold on." He requests, walking off before she can ask any more questions.
Every second he's away, she gets more and more in her head until that feeling of wanting to be sick is too overwhelming. "I, uh, should go, you know? I'm sure you've got stuff to do." She fails for an excuse, but she knows she has to get out of there before she's in tears on his couch, looking even more pathetic than she does now.
"Please." Spencer walks back into the room with a box. A box with yellow and white horizontal stripes on it that she's sure is new. "Can you just open this?"
"The person going away doesn't give the gift." She shakes her head, rejecting the gift. "Don't make this hard for me."
His heart breaks seeing her trying not to cry, the sweetest person he knows who thinks he's running away. "Please."
Those fucking puppy dog eyes. She takes the lid off the box cautiously because she's terrified and takes out the contents. A baby onesie with an FBI logo on it. It's the first onesie she's ever held, and it has her crying.
"What are you doing?" She asks between tears.
"Trying to stop making decisions that'll ruin my life." He tells her, sitting on the ottoman in front of her. "Like I did a month ago."
She frowns. "Yeah?"
"Oh my god, yes." He assures her, crying a little himself. He's feeling the pressure because he cannot mess this apology up. "Y/n, I should have fought to be with you because you're worth fighting for. You always will be. I shouldn't have let you go then, and I will do anything it takes for you to not walk now."
"You're not getting on a plane?" She recalls what he said before, safeguarding her heart.
He shakes his head. "Not today. And not ever if you don't want me to." He informs her.
She's honestly gobsmacked with so many questions in her mind and no idea what order to ask them. "I want this baby." She mumbles, unsure about if it's going to put him off.
"I'm terrified." He confesses. "My dad was... lousy, at best, so I don't know how to be a father, but I'll learn. I'll read every book there is." He promises. "I acted like an asshole, and I'm so sorry. I got that." He nods to the onesie she's gripping tightly. "Because I promise I will do anything to be in your and the baby's life."
"Is this a hint?" She wonders, reading over the logo.
Spencer chuckles, nodding. "Not very subtle." He admits. "I'm supposed to be going to live in DC and work at the Behavioural Analysis Unit in Quantico, but I'll quit before I even start to stay here if that's what you want to do."
She thinks it over for a moment, but the decision is pretty easy. Sure, Spencer can get a job anywhere with his brains and degrees, but he wants to help people. "Let's do it." She agrees, smile widening.
"Do what?" He asks, caught off guard.
"I can't be without you." She tells him, reaching out to touch his hand softly, testing the boundary. "I've tried, and it's the worst. I want you in my life. Let's move to DC."
"We don't have to." He reminds her quickly.
She shakes her head. "We can have a fresh start." She reminds him. "We're following these dreams together as a team."
Spencer leans forward to cup her cheeks, wiping up her tears. "I'll do anything to make it up to you." He promises.
"Pack my stuff." She jokes, feeling his breath on her face as he laughs with her.
"Can I kiss you now?" He asks desperately, earning a nod from Y/n. He dives in quickly, missing feeling so close to her. His lips are gentle on hers, like he's worried about breaking her. When he pulls back, he nods at the box. "Finish opening it." He suggests.
She does, crying a little again when she sees the teeny tiny converse and teddy bears. "This is perfect." She mumbles.
He beams at the praise and her. "You're perfect. I'm just lucky."
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eletricheart · 8 months
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This is so random, but I wanna know what Donna's sneezes are like 😭 are they quiet and babyish? Does the dust from her manor tickle her nose, or maybe strong smells, or spices? Idk hahaa just wondering
Dust
(Donna Beneviento x Reader)
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*image creds to owner
Word count: 227
ty so much for the request, i'm awful at headcannons so i tried to make this story-like yk, hope u like it😬🫶
ps: not proofread
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You and Donna were cleaning her study when she sneezed near you for the first time. Now, the sneeze per se was soft - kitten like, absolutely adorable.
However, what did momentarily scare you was that the dollmaker has the habit of giving a little jump every time she sneezes, causing her to drop the duster.
She stared at you wide eyed and at first you returned the same expression but quickly started to laugh.
Donna blushed and pouted at you. "Stop laughing, it isn't funny."
You on the other hand even had tears coming down. Nodding and trying to breathe. "Sorry sorry, it was just adorably chaotic, like you."
The dollmaker tried to hide her smile and jokingly threw the duster at you. "You're cleaning everything now, no buts."
You made a sad face and tried to hug her as an apology but Donna didn't buy it, leaving you to clean her entire study alone while she sat on the corner and read a book.
After this event you started to be more careful with not moving dust around her, she was grateful but sometimes not even you can save her from old books. Thankfully, since she is always around the kitchen, strong smells and spices don't affect her nose as much, but it does get a bit red if the Lady smells it for too long.
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masterlist
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ickadori · 5 months
Text
++ 𝐘𝐀𝐆𝐀
[summary] you seek comfort in yaga after a bout of sadness from reminiscing about getou’s abandoning.
[cws] fem reader. anal. alluding that gojo & reader slept together in the past. angst to smut. reader is kinda sorta using yaga as a crutch. could be read as reader being in love/was in love with getou. unedited cause m lazy.
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“I can understand his reasoning.”
“Hm?”
“Suguru.” Yaga turns his attention from the report in his hands to you, and you give a tilt of your head, corner of your mouth quirking as you cross one leg over the other. “It seems a bit unfair having to risk your life for people at the bottom of the barrel every single day… and all for what? Just for them to never even know you saved their life? Never getting a thank you, an ounce of gratitude, nothing.”
Yes, you could understand Getou’s mindset all too well, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to fully agree with it. Sometimes, after missions like these, missions where you had been dispatched to protect the rich and lucky from a barrage of special grade curses, while the poor and unfortunate were left to be slaughtered, you wish you could turn your back on being a Jujutsu High Sorcerer and fall into step beside Getou. Life would surely be a bit less taxing if you did.
“Don’t tell me you’re planning on defecting next.”
“…”
The sound of his chair scraping against the wooden floor is loud, and you shift your eyes down to where the end of your skirt rests against the middle of your thighs.
The floor creaks with Yaga’s steps, and you bring your hands together in your lap when he stops in front of you. “Look at me.” You give a soft shake of your head.
“I just… I just miss him is all.”
You had known him since the both of you were children. Your family had proposed a marriage between his and yours family regarding the youngest children, you and Getou at the time, but it had fell through when your family lost their standing when the head of the clan ventured into forbidden territory with a curse.
Your family had been shunned by all the other clans, everyone forbidden from even so much as looking in your direction, but Getou had never let that poison his perception of you. He had always been friendly, sometimes a little more in later years, even though he had been staunchly against the marriage when it was first proposed.
Yaga is silent for once, and you blow out a breath, hands unclasping so you can drum your fingers against your thighs. “But to answer your question, no. The whole cult thing isn’t really for me.” You finally raise your head, lips curling into a small smile as you meet his eyes. “Besides, if he wanted anyone by his side, I’m certain I wouldn’t be his first pick.”
“..”
He continues to watch you in silence, and you purse your lips, loafer clad foot stretching out to gently nudge at his calf.
“What? No wise words from—”
“You’re allowed to mourn.”
“Huh?”
“Despite everything that he did, what he became, you are still allowed to mourn what was lost. Your friendship, your love, your future.”
“You’re making it seem like we were lovers or something. We were just friends, barely—him, Shoko and Satoru were the close ones. I just tagged along.” You slouch further in your chair. You didn’t have the right to mourn, not like they did. Yes, you had known Getou the longest, but everything you knew of him was surface level stuff, nothing deep enough that would constitute you as being more than an acquaintance to him.
This is silly, you sigh to yourself. You’re not even sure why you’re upset about Getou leaving… maybe it’s not him leaving per se, but rather what he took with him.
Jujutsu High hasn’t been the same. The students, the teachers, the atmosphere… it all feels stale, like he stole away everyone’s joy and happiness and just everything that made them whole. You’re certain he stole yours away.
“Hey,” a thumb, rough from years of fighting a near impossible fight, swipes underneath your eye, and you blink as you look up at Yaga. “You’re crying.”
“Huh?” You wipe at your own face, blinking again when your fingers come back wet, and then your emotions are dropping on you all at once, a lump forming in your throat as a flood of tears go racing down your cheeks. The lump clears a few seconds later to make room for your choked sobs to sound out, but you only get one free before Yaga is cradling the back of your head and pulling you into him, your face pressed against his stomach as you sob into the fabric.
You’re not sure how long you cry for, but when you’re done there’s a throbbing between your temples, your eyes are puffy, and your lips are a bit chap… and you feel a bit better, not by much, but your shoulders do feel a little less heavy.
You exhale a slow, shuddering breath, and then you’re pulling your head back, tired eyes traveling up to connect with Yaga’s. He had always told you that your eyes spoke a thousand words, and by the way he sighs, body tensing as he gives a shake of his head, you guess he was right.
“Why not?” Your voice is scratchy, throat raw from the force that you had sobbed with, and your hand moves to rest on his thigh.
“You need to find another vice. Me having sex with you every time you feel down won’t help you.” His voice wavers slightly when your fingers dance across the zipper of his pants, a bulge forming despite his words.
“I don’t need any help.” You just needed to forget, if only for a few hours. You had went to Gojo at first, the both of you desperate to forget, but Getou was entwined in both of guys’ very being, and you saw him reflected in each other’s irises. Yaga was a neutral party, a safe place. “I just need this, that’s all.”
His zipper is tugged down and the button on his pants popped, and he doesn’t move to stop you when you fish his cock out of his boxers, your thighs squeezing together at the sight of him. He’s not fully hard yet, the brown, thick shaft hanging heavy between bronze thighs as dollops of pre-cum bead at the uncut tip.
You wrap your hand around his base, lips parting as you feel him swell in your hand, and your tongue darts out to gather the pre building at his tip. He sighs, hand moving to tangle in your hair, and you don’t waste any more time before fully taking him in your mouth.
You breathe in deep through your nose, his musk wrapping around you, so different from Getou’s smell. Yaga smells more natural, the absence of a signature cologne on his figure, instead replaced by the faint smell of cigarettes that he swears he quit smoking ages ago.
His hand in your hair is gentle and non-commanding, letting you set your own pace as you take him further into your mouth, fingers curling into the fabric of his pants as you relax your throat.
“Shit..” Yaga groans, and you hum around him, panties growing sticky as your hips rock against the chair, tongue flatting on the underside of his cock as you begin to bob your head, an occasional gag sounding when you take him in too deep too fast. “Slow down.” His grip tightens, forcing you to slow down, and your lashes flutter as you look up at him, lips stretched wide around him.
You swallow, moaning at the groan that leaves him, and keep your eyes locked on him, excess drool dripping off of your chin and wetting your shirt. Your clit throbs, and one hand leaves his pants to push between your thighs, fingers rubbing at yourself through the fabric.
Yaga pulls himself away from you in an instant, not giving you a chance to complain before he’s pushing your legs apart and settling himself on his knees, big hands quickly pulling your panties down your legs and flinging them somewhere to the side. He slides your shoes off, and then he’s guiding your sock-clad feet to rest on his broad shoulders, his head disappearing before you feel a swipe of his thick tongue going up your slit.
“Yaga!” He parts your folds to get at your clit, and your toes curl as he focus his attention on it with long, slow licks, hands groping at the fat on your hips. Slick pools out of your cunt, traveling down until it reaches your puckered hole, and you choke on a moan when he dips down to gather it, a lewd slurp sounding before he’s spitting it back onto your clit and spreading the wetness around.
Your mind is fuddled as sounds you’d otherwise be embarrassed about spill from your mouth, your hands flailing as they try to find something to grab ahold of. They finally settle on short strands of hair, and you grip it tight as Yaga pushes harder into you, nose nestled up against your clit as he mouths at your hole, tongue pushed deep inside you as his goatee tickles at the insides of your thighs.
“..come…Yaga, I—” You cut off with a cry, his lips moving back to your clit as he suckles on it. He hums against you as if to acknowledge your words, and you pant as you feel your orgasm rip through you, back arching and body tensing as a shiver continually races up and down your spine. “Fuck.”
His mouth detaches from your cunt with a suctioned noise, and your feet slip from his shoulders as he raises to his feet. You watch him through unfocused eyes, taking in the way he strips himself of his clothes before reaching around to the front of his desk and rummaging through a drawer. He lowly curses after a few moments, and you finally find your bearings enough to speak.
“W-We don’t have to use one this time.” He spares you a glance before kissing at his teeth. “I have the implant, so…”
“It’s more about the principle.” He gathers you up in his arms before sitting back on his desk, your thighs resting on either side of his hips.
“We still have those between us? After all this?” A smile plays at your lips, whispery moan falling free when he pushes your hips down, his cock sandwiched between your folds.
“After all this,” he confirms, one hand moving to tug at your top until the buttons are scattering across his office and he can pull the cups of your bra down, your breasts exposed for his benefit. “Besides, I’d feel like even more of a sleeve if I came inside you.”
He moves you back and forth on his cock, pussy making the glide easy, and you rest your hands on his forearms, both of your gazes watching the glossy shine you leave behind on his shaft. “So pull out.”
“You’re grossly overestimating the amount of control I have when it comes to you.” Your stomach clenches, and then you’re pushing your lips against his, mouth opening so your tongues can meet. Your taste floods your mouth, and you sloppily suck at his tongue, your moans and whines muffled.
One of his hands move to grab at your ass, fingers spreading your cheeks apart, and you tense just a bit when he gathers your combined juices on his finger before easing it into your ass. Your lips part, a string of saliva keeping you connected, and he nips at your lower lip as he rasps out a relax. He fucks his finger into you, gently, slowly, and you mewl when he eventually adds another, two fingers now working to spread you open.
The tip of his cock catches on your hole, and you jerk forward, cunt clenching down hard, and he quickly lifts your hips when his tip begins to slide in. “Easy.”
“Yaga,” he adds a third, his gaze meeting yours, and you’re sure he can see the desperate plea in your eyes. “Please fuck me - don’t need a condom, just need to feel you. Fuck me, Yaga, please fu—!” He slides into your ass, his other hand moving to furiously rub at your clit, and you choke on a scream as you painfully stretch around him.
“Breathe, angel - slow, just like that. Good girl.” He keeps going until your ass is resting on his thighs, cock fully inside you while his fingers toy with your clit, the bundle of nerves oh so sensitive, and he kisses you again, lips moving together passionately.
The pain slowly ebbs away to be replaced with mind-numbing pleasure, and as if sensing it, Yaga grips at your ass with one hand and raises you up, slowly, before lowering you back down just as slow. Your hole grips onto him tight, and you can feel his hand tremble as he guides you up and down, his ragged breaths in your ear.
Nonsensical pleas and begs fall from your lips as he picks up the pace, your hips moving on their own as you take over, and he latches onto a bouncing breast as you fuck yourself on him, tongue flicking against a pebbled, brown nipple. Your pussy drools as he toys with it, and your moans grow louder and more wanton when he slides two fingers into your empty hole, digits immediately finding that special spot that has your vision blurring and your mind fogging.
You come without warning, walls clamping down around his fingers, and his teeth sink into your puffy nipple as he groans, his cock twitching before you feel ropes of warm, thick cum filling you up. You still on top of him, your breath leaving you in pants as you both come down from your respective highs.
His arms wind around your waist, cheeks hollowing out around your breast before he’s releasing it and leaving a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses up your chest, over where your heart wildly beats, up the length of your throat, on the curve of your chin, until he can push them against yours. The kiss is chaste and short, a stark contrast to the way you two had hungrily went at each other before, and you tiredly rest your cheek on his shoulder as he rubs circles into your back.
“Have you eaten today?”
“A sandwich…that was actually yesterday, never mind.” He tsks.
“I’ll fix you something at my place.”
“Isn’t dinner supposed to come before the sex?” There’s a pinch at your side, and you breathe out a laugh before sitting up to look at him, a small smile on your lips. “I’d like that.”
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wolfsetfree-if · 5 months
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About hunting... Ussually, are omega wolves considered good hunters? or are they terrible hunters? Cause while they are these huge giant doggos i remember you saying they are mostly docile. And more sympathetic then the other wolves (since they're main role is to protect pups and injured ones). So do omegas make good hunters (cause no matter what they are still the one whose a giant ahh wolf) or are they terrible hunters (cause they'll be too sad for their prey to kill them properly)? Or is it just depends on the wolf? I hope we will get to see the pact (and mc) hunts together one day! That'll be fun
Usually Omegas don't have to hunt. Packs hunt in group, and Omegas most often stay in the pack territory. They aren't bad at hunting per se, but they rarely feel the pull to do it (instead, alphas do get it much more often).
When I talk about pack roles, it's not something that is imposed on each designation, but it's how each type of wolf evolved to fit a certain position in the pack.
So Omegas don't often hunt, but they are still werewolves and they are excellent trackers and terrifying predators. They will hunt mostly to survive or to provide for the pups (and in that case, they could become desperate and thus very aggressive).
They can track well, but their size can sometimes hinder them from hunting certain prey since they lack in stealth due to their size
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laura1633 · 20 days
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Ik this isn't really a fic related thing per se but I remember watching the interview where Max talks about wanting to eat lots after he retires and Kelly kept saying No, and reading about how max will regularly have to lose like 10kg at a time that he puts on just by living his life before the season starts after break, and I find it kinda sad tbh cause I get the sense he has to bully his body into being at a weight that not natural for him cause of f1 (and yeah he gets paid lots of money for his job but I still don't think it's mentally or physically super healthy)
CW: Mentions of weight and eating disorders.
A little more of a serious post from me so feel free to by-pass this if the content warnings are upsetting to you. Also, these are just my opinions.
I know that in the past (before F1 brought the minimum weight for drivers) there were really bad practices in terms of drivers feeling pressure to lose weight. I believe Bottas has been open in talking about his struggles and I am sure there are plenty more examples of drivers being pressured (either by their teams or themselves) to lose weight.
I think even now though there is still immense pressure to keep weight down and when you look at some of the broader guys such as Max I think it must be a struggle. I don't know anything about Max's diet etc but for sure he looks like he would naturally carry more weight under normal circumstances. I understand these are top rate athletes but there is definitely a difference between having to be in-shape and having to keep weight down and forcing your body to be something it is not must have an impact day to day.
What really irritates me when you see Max carrying a little extra weight is reading certain comments online. Firstly Max holding that extra weight looks absolutely gorgeous but more importantly what some people fail to see is that that is still a really, really healthy body and it's upsetting and worrying that people can't seem to understand that. In fact the only negative comment I have ever received on here was about Max's weight and appearance which I find so sad.
So yeah, irregardless of how much someone earns I think people have a right to a healthy work environment and that includes pressures on weight.
Sorry that was a long answer but in short I agree with you anon 🥰
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max1461 · 5 months
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coddling kids turns some of them into assholes != goodness is born of suffering and pain. it's less about pain being necessary for goodness and more that not knowing how to deal with failure, regret, frustration, rejection, etc. can easily make someone entitled and vain. negative emotions are part of the human experience and it's not conservative to acknowledge that they are necessary for someone to be emotionally mature. i was also overprotected as a child, and it did mostly turn me into a sad and frustrated adult, but many of the people i've seen raised that way just turned into assholes.
If you grew up coddled, I would venture to suggest you are quite familiar with failure, regret, and frustration! Maybe we have different definitions of "coddling". But the assumption I find problematic in this and in the other post is the assumption that coddling works, that you can in fact protect someone from pain by locking them up in a series of controlled environments and attempting to manage every aspect of their lives. No! This causes pain, it causes deprivation, it causes suffering! It does not work, it is ill-guided.
Negative emotions are part of the human experience indeed, but it is definitely conservative to say one must experience some certain amount of negative emotions in order to mature or be a good person. First of all because, as a simple empirical claim, we don't know that. How could we know that? And in light of the fact that we don't know that, or really have any reason to think it besides naive observation and per se conservative "common sense", it would be viciously inhumane to purposely expose people to suffering in order to force them to "mature". I know this is not what you say you are suggesting, but it is what you are suggesting if all these statements are taken in aggregate.
Coddling and helicopter parenting and their ilk are bad because people, even children and adolescents, deserve freedom and autonomy.
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preet-01 · 1 month
Text
Lewis wasn’t unhappy per se. No, he had no reason to be unhappy. Everything was perfect.
He had the handsome husband with a title. He had four beautiful children, each one perfect and wonderful. He was the Viscountess Wolff and a respected member of society.
Everything was perfect.
His family adored Toto and the children, their friends envied them, the people in the village loved them.
He should be happy, overjoyed, ecstatic. But he wasn’t happy or overjoyed, and he certainly wasn’t ecstatic. But he also wasn’t unhappy. No, he fell somewhere between happy and unhappy. Perhaps content, but even that felt like the wrong word for it.
“Will you be going back to London?” Lewis questions as he puts his nightgown back on. Had it been a few years earlier, he would have never thought to dress himself so quickly after he and Toto enjoyed their marriage bed. His bare body would’ve been pressed to Toto’s bare body as they talked about everything and nothing. Alas it wasn’t like that anymore and it hadn’t been like that for quite some time — not that anyone else would know. No, they kept the picture perfect facade up for the rest of English noble society.
“Yes, there is business in London,” Toto replies, making no move to pull Lewis back into their marriage bed and ravish him like Toto used to do during their early years of marriage.
“Business, of course,” Lewis mumbles. Business was, of course, a twenty some year old opera singer named Georgie that Toto put up in a nice apartment in London where none of their noble friends would go for any good reason. Lewis wasn’t meant to know, or at least he hoped that Toto never intended for him to find out. It would have been wholly unkind if Toto had purposefully orchestrated Lewis finding out about the whore he kept on the side. Toto was many things, but unkind was not one of those.
“I want to see you before I leave tomorrow,” Toto says.
“Hmm?” Lewis hums in question. It was an odd request in recent years. Gone were the days of Lewis pressed up against some piece of furniture because they couldn’t keep their hands off of one another and Toto needed to feel his wife before he had to leave for work in the House of Lords.
“The new footman is arriving tomorrow,” Toto explains.
—————
Servants are notorious gossips. John had learnt that when he was a wee little boy clutching his mother’s skirts.
“The Viscountess and children are the only ones who stay in the house for prolonged periods,” the butler, Marcus, had told him. The Viscount supposedly spends his time in the family’s London townhome and has a whore in the city.
John didn’t believe that someone would stray from their marriage when they had someone like the Viscountess. How could anyone compare, he wondered.
There were not enough words to describe the Viscountess’ beauty. Enchanting brown eyes and dark brown skin wrapped in the finest fabrics that John had seen — all shades of white and silver that John had never thought possible to make clothing out of with the tiniest hints of teal needlework. Diamonds and pearls adorned the Viscountess, glimmering brightly and juxtaposing beautifully against the Viscountess’ skin and dresses.
The Viscountess was ethereal, yes, but also sad. Not always, no, the Viscountess seemed to light up when in the company of his children. Deep brown eyes would sparkle with specks of gold in them when the Viscountess was with his children. But outside of that? There was an ever present emptiness.
He didn’t realize the cause of it fully until he saw the Viscount and Viscountess together. They were a beautiful couple, there was no denying that, but beneath all that beauty was a chasm much too wide.
John is doing his daily tasks when he finds the Viscountess crying in the garden. “Are you okay, my lady?” John asks. The Viscount had left moments ago for London once more and before then, and well everyone had heard the Viscount and Viscountess fighting in the library about missing the little lord’s upcoming birthday.
“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” The Viscountess asks with a sad smile and tear stains on his cheeks.
John doesn’t dare answer. He’s seen enough to know that one should never contradict the nobility. Instead, he offers his handkerchief to the Viscountess. “Thank you, Sir John,” the Viscountess replies, delicately dabbing at his tear stained cheeks. “Have you been to the village yet?” He inquires.
John doesn’t realize when the Viscountess becomes my lady or when my lady becomes Lewis. But it does happen — though only when the Viscount is off in London for business. But during those moments when the Viscount is away, there are specks of glimmering gold in Lewis’ deep brown eyes and an ever present smile to grace his lips.
What John forgets is that servants are notorious gossips.
—————
Lewis hasn’t been pressed up against a piece of furniture in years. And a man hasn’t been between his legs in even longer.
John is… great, wonderful, perfect and any other number of words that he can’t think of at the moment because John is burrowed between his legs.
Lewis’ dress — one that he’d bought with Toto in mind — is hitched up as the bookcase digs into Lewis’ back. It’s far from uncomfortable. Even when Lewis throws his head back and hits it on the wooden bookshelf that some long dead Viscount Wolff had commissioned decades ago.
“John,” he’s breathless as he says his lover’s name, “I need you. Please.”
“As you wish,” John replies. His face is covered in Lewis’ slick as he stands up and kisses Lewis. His moan turns into a gasp as John thrusts into him with a practiced ease after spending so much time in one another’s company.
What Lewis and John remain unaware to is that there are servants outside of the library who can hear every moan that John elicits from Lewis — their lady, their Viscountess. They can hear every thrust as the bookcases hits the wall. They can hear how their Viscountess moans the name of a man who is not his husband. There is nothing left to the imagination about what goes on in the library.
If the servants hear about it, so does Toto when he finally returns from London to the country estate. The servants don’t explicitly say it to him — most of them do love their Viscountess and had seen how his shine dimmed over the years of marriage — but it does reach his ears.
“How was London?” Lewis asks him when they have dinner together that first night.
“As good as it could be,” Toto replies. “I wish to see you tonight. I have missed you, wife,” he adds, wondering if the ambitious footman had defiled his wife on the table they dine at. Regardless, he’ll have it burned by morning.
“Of course, husband,” Lewis replies.
When Lewis comes to his bedchamber, Toto doesn’t bother gently taking Lewis’ nightgown off. No, he rips it into shreds. “Your courses, they have been regular, yes?” Toto questions as he lays out his wife on their marriage bed — the same bed where he had taken Lewis’ innocence almost 15 years ago. That had been a lovely night by all accounts.
“Of course, why wouldn’t they be?” Lewis answers, not giving any hint of the fact that he had spent the past few months getting fucked by one of their servants like a common whore.
Toto doesn’t say anything about that, instead he presses a kiss to Lewis’ flat belly. “Matilda is almost four years old now, it is time that we start trying for our next child,” he says. “Additionally, my business in London is over and with the exception of the House of Lords meetings, I intend to stay home with you and the children. Until we need to present the girls, of course,” he continues on, watching as realization flickers in Lewis’ eyes. He’d known from their first meeting, that Lewis was smart. It’s why he’d married him after years of avoiding the marriage mart. Smart and beautiful was a rare commodity in high society and, well, Toto always wanted the best — something that no one else could have. Back then, that had been Lewis.
But Lewis won’t say anything of it. No, Lewis had been raised to be a good wife and lady. Instead, Lewis just says, “of course,” and opens his legs wide for Toto.
However, since his wife wants to act like a common whore whilst Toto isn’t home, he’ll treat him like one. “No, no, on your hands and knees, wife,” he orders, flipping Lewis into his desired position.
As the Viscount reminds the Viscountess whose wife he is, the Viscountess’ lover is forced to leave the estate in the dead of the night. Sir John Elkann, a former soldier in the British Royal Army, is sent to the continent as part of a regiment headed to Italy. Uprisings fill the Italian peninsula and threaten peace on the continent. It is a place where no one questions where a bullet originated from or how.
Almost eight months since that night, as the Viscountess gives birth to his fifth child, the letter of Sir John Elkann’s death arrives to the country estate.
Lewis is far from happy in his marriage. But when with his children, he finds joy. His four eldest, all perfect and wonderful. And now his fifth child, with her light brown hair that none of the others had, nor any to come after her will have, is perfect and delightful and beautiful.
His sweet Joanna who Toto couldn’t take away from him like John had been taken away. Toto’s ego and ideals of manhood wouldn’t allow for it to happen. Taking Joanna away from Lewis meant admitting that another man had slept with the perfect Viscountess that Toto loved to parade around as his greatest victory. It meant admitting that he’d been made a cuckold by a servant.
Nothing was perfect, nor would it ever be.
—————
So this definitely took a turn that I wasn’t originally expecting. The ending was much happier before tumblr decided to glitch and not save my draft
The original was loosely inspired by two of the Bridgerton books: To Sir Phillip, With Love and When He Was Wicked. But when I started writing again after the glitch, inspiration took me down a different path
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