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scarletssienna · 2 months

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Beggin' for Footnotes

Summary - Some things aren’t meant to last forever. And despite you and Wanda loving each other you’re not sure if it’s going to work out anymore. 4.0k word count

Warnings - Hurt (not much comfort), heavy angst, swearing, mommy Wanda, oral, fingering, face slapping, sub!reader, degradation, praise, begging, dom/sub dynamics, aftercare, hair pulling, mean Wanda, edging, face-sitting, thigh riding

AN - This is my first post on here! I’ve done writings in the past but I thought I’d try a new format and space to post it! :)) I plan on continuing this if I can find the energy lol!

Part 2

18+, minors + men dni

Not every love was supposed to last. No matter how great, how wonderful, sometimes things still end. You knew Wanda like the back of your hand. And she knows you all the same. So when one of her vices came up after one of your worst fights, you could only watch. Wanda stood out on the back porch. Cigarette between her two fingers as she stared off into the darkness. There was this empty sickening in both of your stomachs that this may be the end. At this point, all options and solutions had been exhausted. You knew it was time. You watched out the kitchen window, unable to tear your eyes away as she slowly inhaled before a large cloud of smoke dissipated into the air, the cold temperatures enhancing it. Your fingers squeezed the sponge from the sink as soapy water flooded between your fingers. The dishes had been long forgotten lately as neither of you had had the energy to wash them. This was unusual for Wanda as she liked to keep the house showroom ready at all times. You forcefully ripped your eyes away from her as you began to wash the dishes, trying to make up for anything you could. To fix what you could in this messy situation.

The house that had once been so loud with laughter and joy now lingered in empty silence. Your playlist of every song you two had loved played softly over the speakers around the house. If it had been several months ago you would have pulled her closely in your arms, dancing around the kitchen despite her laughs and teases about how cheesy it was. Her nose would crinkle as you sang along in Sokovian to one of her favorite songs. You butchered the pronunciation, but you would try, she could tell. She would have given in eventually and threaded her hands in your hair as she rested her forehead against yours. You would have kissed her, kissed her as if she was going to leave the second you let go. In this reality, she very well might.

You watched out the window again for a moment before getting distracted by the dish you were washing. The knife in your hands harshly tore against your flesh and you quickly dropped the knife into the sink, a soft yelp leaving your lips. You backed away quickly as blood began to drip down your hand. It was a quick scramble for the kitchen towel as you tried to stop the bleeding. Wanda had always been there to comfort you when you were injured in the past. You bit the inside of your cheek trying to stop it as tears quickly began to fall on your face. You let off a soft sob as you abandoned the dishes, heading upstairs to your shared bedroom. Hurrying into the bathroom you discarded the bloodied towel onto the sink countertops and washed the wound before messily bandaging it up. You had never been very good at doing it yourself so Wanda had always insisted on caring for you but you didn't think that was very well an option at this point.

Tears flooded down your face as the events from the night tore your heart into shreds. You were no longer crying due to the injury. It was a different kind of pain. You stumbled over to the bed and threw your pants onto the floor before climbing into your side of the bed. The sheets were quickly pulled up to your chin as your hand covered your mouth in an attempt to muffle the sobs. Quickly, you drifted off into a tired and pained sleep.

When Wanda returned inside she hadn't expected to see dishes washed especially as she investigated further and saw the drops of blood on the floor and a bloody knife in the sink. Despite the fight, she still cared and loved you. She quickly rushed upstairs in an attempt to find you. When she noticed the door slightly ajar and silence in the room she quietly peaked her head in. She sighed relieved when she saw you asleep in bed, seemingly uninjured from her view. The smell of cigarettes covered her and she wandered quietly off to the bathroom to take a shower, shutting the bathroom door behind her. For everyone but you her walls were high. She hardly let anyone in. and when she did, it felt as if it always ended this way. The feeling of being cursed towards relationships had set in. She washed her hair, going over the fight in her head as she wondered what could have gone differently, how she could save it. If it was even worth it at this point.

Tensions had been rising over the past couple of weeks. You both had been working too much recently and had hardly had time for one another. It seemed as if every day was the same. Wake up, go to work, sleep, repeat. It had been killing you both. The littlest things set you both off. It would end up in screaming matches and sleeping alone every time. What set you both over the edge this time was not so little. Natasha, your mutual friend, had begun flirting with you. While she respected your relationship, she had always believed you two were not good for each other. So when you fought last week and you ended up at her house she had done nothing but comfort you. You thought nothing of Natashas' intentions but Wanda knew otherwise. This had sent her into a fit of rage when Natasha dropped you off this morning and kissed your cheek goodbye.

You both fought for hours, arguing about anything that came to mind, but mainly Natasha. Had you understood and been able to read her mind as well, you would have understood her intentions and sided with Wanda, not seeing Natasha anymore. But you couldn't and this frustrated Wanda. When she attempted to control your mind you quickly noticed and this sent you two further down the line of fighting. You hated it when she used her powers on you. When you thought to yourself that you wished you could just forget everything that had happened Wanda broke. She had misunderstood. Thinking you had meant forgetting her. Silence fell over the fight and she went outside to have a cigarette. Her thoughts consumed her as her heart hurt.

With how often the fights had been recently as well as how busy you've been, you'd not been intimate in weeks. The tension begins to tear you both apart. When she finished her shower she pulled on an old t-shirt and shorts before popping her head out the bathroom door to check if you were still sleeping. When she saw you, she had to determine what to do. Did she sleep with you? Or did she go to the guest room? She decided that you wouldn't want her in bed and quietly tip-toed to the guest room based on what she had misunderstood. That night she cried herself to sleep as well.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

When you woke up the next morning you sat up groggily and sighed to yourself as you didn't see Wanda in bed, the memories of the night prior sinking in. Despite your anger you went to see where she had slept for the night, mostly just wanting to make sure she hadn't ended up locked out on the porch freezing to death. You saw her asleep in the guest room, her makeup smudged and muddled from tears, and her shower. You sighed and went back to your room to get ready for the day. It was unusual for you to be up first and you made use of it, quietly leaving for work before she awoke.

You returned home late that night, having gone to the bar after work with a few co-workers to unwind and relax. All you could think about was Wanda and the ache between your legs grew. You were mad, but maybe you needed that. You quietly entered the house, making a note to lock the door behind you before heading to find Wanda. You weren't extremely intoxicated, but the anger, lack of quality sleep, stress, and tequila were having a bit of an impact. You could tell she had been home for a couple of hours, the discarded takeout garbage by the trash. Suddenly she caught your eye outside on the back porch. Of course, she was smoking again. You thought to yourself before acting on impulse. You went to the door and harshly pulled the sliding door open. She let out a startled gasp that didn't happen often as she always seemed aware of your presence.

“Get inside.” You said firmly in a tone that had been unusual for you to take on with her. You had always been the more submissive in the relationship. The words shocked you both a little. She obliged anyway, out of more surprise than anything. She put the cigarette out before coming inside. You shut the door behind her, looking into her eyes before quickly pressing her against the door in a bruising kiss. She yelped out of surprise before kissing back, her hands tangling into your hair. She ignored the taste of tequila on your lips as she knew she tasted like cigarettes and couldn't defend herself for that.

You made quick work of snaking your hand underneath her shirt, groping her chest as your tongues began to fight. She had never seen this level of dominance out of you. While it surprised and intrigued her, she couldn't have it. You both knew you were just trying to get a reaction out of her as it had been entirely too long since you two had done anything together. Her hand tightened with a grip of your hair as she roughly pulled your head back, quickly beginning to kiss and nip at your neck. You let out a moan as she tugged at your hair, stumbling backward slightly as she pushed you off of her.

“Upstairs. “ She muttered firmly. You could see the darkness in her eyes and did not question it, quickly moving upstairs to your room. The past few weeks your dynamic had been shallow and lacking. You both needed rules in life. You need a guideline to follow, and she needs an outlet of control. When you got upstairs you looked around the room, taking several deep breaths before going to crack a window to get some airflow. Your jaw clenched as you took a few deep breaths trying to focus on relaxing. You closed the curtains forcefully, a little too forcefully perhaps as they, along with the curtain rod came tumbling down. Your heart sank as tears filled your eyes, threatening to fall as you knew Wanda would be mad. As you heard her footsteps approach you quickly tugged off your shirt, tossing it in a pile alongside your discarded pants. You had already dug your grave and it was getting deeper. Thoughts raced through your head about what punishment would come. The more you thought the more your legs pressed together for any kind of release you could gain. Just as you sat down on the bed the door swung open. “What the hell was that?” She asked. Her voice was angry and her accent began to peak through her words as she spoke. Her head quickly turned and noticed the window. “Did you do this?” she asked in almost a patronizing tone. She knew you did it, the guilt on your face was obvious.

You pulled your bottom lip into your mouth as she spoke, gnawing on it nervously as you considered your options. Slowly, you shook your head, the hesitation clear as tears brimmed your eyes. She walked over to you, one eyebrow raised in a way that she knew made you weak in the knees. She raised her hand before a loud echoing slap hit your cheek. You let out a moan and pressed your legs together harder as tears finally fell. “Lying gets you nowhere. I'll ask you again, Detka.” she paused, faining tenderness as she wiped a tear away from your face. “Did you do this?” every word she spoke was drawn out and stern as she raised her eyebrow and held your chin in place, forcing you to look into her eyes. Slowly you began to nod, bracing yourself for the slap you knew was about to come. When she raised her hand a slap did not come. Instead, she giggled at your flinch and reached down, snapping your bra snap on your shoulder. “This is what happens when little girls try to do things that are too big for them,” she spoke slowly, making sure each word sunk in. “You didn't even have time to fully undress for Mommy.” she shook her head and snapped your bra strap once again before pushing you to lay back on the bed. She climbed on top of you, straddling one of your thighs as she ground her hips, working herself up.

“Please Mommy,” you whined out softly as your hips raised into her, begging for any amount of pleasure you could get. Another slap fell hard across your cheek and you felt your thoughts slowly drift further into a fuzzy headspace. You moaned at the feeling. Her hand was wet from the tears that had fallen down your face and she made it a point to wipe her hand on your bare stomach.

“I didn’t permit you to speak. Did I?” She asked firmly as she leaned down, kissing and nipping at your neck. You shook your head frantically as you struggled to keep your hands by your sides. She slid her hands back up your stomach and muttered under her breath. “Good girl.” Before pulling your bra down to reveal your breasts. She wasted no time as she quickly kissed down towards your chest, taking the small bud into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around your nipple as her hand snaked down into your panties, finally touching you where you needed it most. She gasped dramatically and pulled her head up, locking eyes with you when she felt your wetness. Your face turned a deep shade of red as she proceeded to tease and taunt you for how wet you had been at her from only just slapping and teasing you. All of your thoughts were consumed by her in a fuzzy bliss.

Without warning she slipped two fingers inside of you easily. Her fingers made quick work of pumping in and out, stretching and curling them just where you needed it most. You moaned loudly and wrapped your arms around her back, pulling her body closer to you as you hid your face in her shoulder, biting down softly on the tender flesh. This depicted a soft moan from Wanda as her hips jerked slowly against your thigh. She pulled her body back with a grin as she began to bite softly across your jaw.

“Let me see your pretty face baby. I want to see you while I fuck you.” She said her fingers worked faster, her thumb reaching up to touch your throbbing clit. You blushed red as you looked into her eyes. The moon was shining through the window casting a moonlit glow across her face, a smirk forming across it. Just as quickly as she worked you up to an orgasm, she stopped. She pulled her hand away quickly and you found yourself frantically reaching for her wrist as your hips jerked underneath her.

“No! Mommy!” You yelled out exasperated as tears fell quickly from your eyes at the loss of sensation. She smirked down at you, her tongue slowly licking her lips.

“You didn't think I'd let you cum that quickly after what a brat you've been the past few weeks little girl?” She asked in a patronizing manner as she pulled her hand out of your panties and brought her fingers to her lips. You moaned at the sight, her tongue licking her fingers clean, making a show of the process. Her fingers then slid into your mouth and you groaned at the taste of your arousal mixed with her. Your tongue swirled around her fingers as you proceeded to suck her fingers.

“Please Mommy.” was all you could seem to muster out after she pulled her fingers out of your mouth. Your mind was clouded and fogged and just where Wanda wanted it.

“Silly me,” she smiled as she looked down. “Mommy has been giving you all the pleasure, she completely forgot to undress.” she motioned towards her clothes before standing up. You groaned and reached for her when she stood, no longer touching you. You let out a soft murmur as your hands grabbed at her shirt, pressing your legs together. She stripped before walking back towards you. She tugged your panties down your legs and tossed them towards the pile of clothes before doing the same with your bra. You couldn't help but notice the wetness that had soaked Wanda's panties and now glistened her thighs. Your mouth watered at the sight as all you wanted to do was taste her.

You knew how often you had fought lately and how the arguments left you due for punishment. You just weren't exactly sure what form it would take. Anticipation flooded through your body as you looked up into her eyes, your eyes wide and innocent.

“You're going to eat me out until I cum, maybe then I'll give you what you want,” she stated firmly as she squeezed at your hips. Her touches were not gentle. Her fingers dug into your tender flesh, all of her anger, stress, and tension coming out onto you. You moaned at the touch, more sensitive and aware with each touch and mark she left across your body. She let go with a slap to your thigh and you groaned at the loss of her. You sat up and watched as she moved around the room, sitting on the bed in the middle, spreading her legs for you as she watched with dark eyes. “Come make Mommy feel good.” Her voice dripped with arousal as her words of encouragement enticed you further, not that it took much at this point though.

Quickly you moved and settled yourself between her legs. You slowly began kissing up her thighs, licking the path of arousal she had left for you. She grumbled impatiently above you, clearly already ready for attention where she needed it. Her hand snaked through your hair, gently at first as it stroked your scalp. She then grabbed a fistful, tugging your hair harshly as she forced you up higher, pushing your head between her legs. At the tug, you let out a loud moan as you cursed under your breath. You got the hint and stuck out your tongue quickly getting work between her legs. Your tongue licked up her slit before it brought fast attention to her clit. You brought your fingers up and slipped two fingers inside of her. You were kinder than Wanda had been to you, moving your fingers less harshly and aggressively. It worked nonetheless as she quickly rose to an orgasm with the combination of both your fingers and tongue. Her grip on your hair did not loosen as her hips began to jerk against your face. As she reached her peak she let out a loud moan, her hips moving frantically as she tugged harshly at your hair. The taste that hit your tongue made you moan as you quickly lapped up as much as she would allow before pulling your head away.

Her chest rose and fell heavily as she caught her breath, a gentler hand moving to your neck. You leaned up her body as you kissed her passionately. When her tongue slid across your bottom lip and your mouth you eagerly allowed it entrance. A smile grew across her face as she pulled away. You whined at the loss but it was quickly relieved when she pressed a singular finger to your lips.

“Mommy.” You moaned out as your hips began to grind against her stomach. Her hand snaked down her stomach to touch you, her fingers ghosting over your clit.

“Come sit on my face Detka.” She said firmly as she adjusted her positioning, letting your thighs rest next to her head. You were hesitant yet eager as you slowly lowered yourself down, moaning loudly as her tongue finally made contact. Your hips jerked against her face as you ground against her tongue. You were worked up quickly, faster than ever as she seemed to know exactly where you needed it. She mumbled out from underneath you as she worked you up towards an orgasm. “Beg for it, Malyshka.”

Quickly words began to tumble out of your mouth as desperation to cum was needed. “Please, Mommy. Please!” You practically yelled as your hips jerked more, her nails digging into your thighs. “Please let me cum.” You begged. She complied with a grin.

“Cum for Mommy, Detka.” She said as her tongue moved rapidly beneath you. Instantly you reached your peak, reaching for the bead frame in front of you to steady yourself as you moaned loudly. When Wanda felt you had settled enough she gently pulled you down next to her and into her arms. You shook a little in Wanda's arms as she held you for the first time in weeks. Her fingers tangled in your hair as she slowly combed through the mess she had made, taking time to massage your scalp. All the thoughts of your fights had completely melted away and you were consumed by her and her embrace.

“Mommy.” You murmured as tears began to fall on your cheeks again, your face nuzzling closely in the crook of her neck.

“You did so good baby, so good.” She praised quietly as she kissed behind your ear. Her fingertips found a gentle pattern of scratching up and down your back with one hand while the other massaged where she pulled your hair. Praise was whispered into your ear as she held you closely, not wanting to let go. Never wanting to let go. Slowly your sobs calmed and you settled into her embrace, slowly lifting your head to leave soft kisses across her jaw and neck.

“I love you, Wanda.” The words left your mouth for the first time in weeks and a soft smile crept across your lips. Wandas' face glimmered with love as she pulled you into a kiss.

“I love you too, Detka.” She whispered through kisses as she could only hold you closer. After a while of the silent embraces Wanda's thoughts of the fights crept back into memory. “We’re going to be okay.” She hesitated and looked towards you. “Right?” She spoke softly, her voice filled with fear at the thought of losing you. You nodded and kissed her softly, your mind foggy and cloudy as all you wanted was to be close to her. That night you slept close, tangled up in each other's love, neither wanting to pull away.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

The next morning when you woke up snuggled up in Wanda's arms felt different. The bliss that usually followed had dissipated and all you could think about was the pain of being with her. You gained a sinking pit in your stomach as guilt and fear coursed through your body. The flight response kicked in. You couldn't be with her, not now. Tears began to fall as you quickly but carefully left the bed and Wanda's embrace. Hurriedly you moved for some clothes as you threw on the closest things you could find without waking her. You reached for the door handle but paused. One glance back to Wanda confirmed it. You couldn't be here. So where did you go? Who greeted you with open arms? Natasha.

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651 notes · View notes

mieluscious · 4 months

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keep crying. choso kamo

ෆ pairings : choso kamo × female reader

ෆ genre : smut, pwp

ෆ words count : 2k

ෆ warnings : mdni. sub!choso, meandom!reader, reader is a bitch, degradation, hair pulling, riding, handjob, public sex, sex on the floor, pet play, choso is in love, feminine petnames (she loves to call him chuchu too), toxic relationship, face grabbing, reader loves to make choso cry . . . ໑ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚

the sound of your high heels were echoing against the walls of the school bathroom. “aw. what happened to my little chuchu.” you pouted as you walked in a feline way towards choso, who was crouched against the wall, holding his hair and sobbing. your smile grew as you watched him shudder and sniffle back his tears. you stopped in front of him, the tips of your heels touching his shoes. “eyes on me baby.” he slowly raised his head towards you and you couldn't help but chuckle prettily as you saw his tear-filled face.

your phone vibrated in the pocket of your mini skirt and you took it out to read the message you had just received. “y-you called them again.” the sound of your long pink fingernails on your phone screen echoed in the cold, silent room. you looked up from your screen and chewed your gum more slowly. when your eyes met his he immediately lowered his gaze. you chuckled again.

you moved closer to him and he blushed when he saw your panties peeking out from under your mini skirt. you delicately caught his chin between your thumb and forefinger. “i’m so sorry chu’, i just love it when someone beats you up for me.” you run your thumb over his lower lip. his teary eyes met yours, you smiled at him. “so i can take care of you afterwards.” he sniffed and you couldn't help but find him adorable, crying all alone in his corner like a child. you slipped your phone back into your skirt and crouched down in front of him. you brought his face close to yours, his teary eyes staring at you. you stroked his cheek and felt him snuggle up against the palm of your hand. “you're so pretty covered with bruises and blood.” his mouth half-opened. “so pretty when you cry.” your thumb slipped over his eye, wiping away the remaining tears. “what are you looking at chu’ ?” your smile widened. choso drank in your words, hypnotized by your pretty red lips. you grabbed his jaw and brought your lips close to his. “my lil pet wants a kiss ?” his eyes went back into yours, he nodded. you dug your nails into the skin of his jaw, making him cry even more. "but we have to take care of your cute little wounds before, right?"

choso's shirt was completely torn off, revealing his bare, blood-stained torso. his breathing was faster and the fact that you were standing in front of him made him even more anxious. your hand caressed his hair. "a-are you gonna call them again?" you couldn't help smiling at his terrified expression. you grabbed your bag and pulled out some bandages. "t-they really..hurt me today-" a whimper escaped from between his lips as he felt you move closer to him until your knees were on either side of his hips. he couldn't take his gaze off your skirt, which rose up over your bare thighs.

you raised his face to yours and your thumb pressed deliberately on one of his wounds at the corner of his mouth, making him cry out loud with one eye closed. "choso is such a lil child." he hated it when you called him by anything other than your usual nicknames. you pressed harder. "such a crybaby." you brought your face close to him and his tears wet your fingers. your thumb slipped over his lower lip. "who owns you chu."

your lips brushed together. "y-you.." you were smiling with all your teeth. choso could only see you: you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

you slid your hands down his torso, scratching his skin lightly with your long nails. you licked his pouting lips, making him moan prettily, his eyes never leaving yours. "touch yourself for me princess." he blushed at the tone of your voice. "make yourself even prettier than you are." he arched his back against the wall and slowly slid one of his hands to his crotch while panting under your dark gaze. you whispered what a good boy he was in the hollow of his ear, making him flinch because of the sensitivity of your warm breath on his ear. you blew on his ear suddenly, making him moan loudly as he reached for his cock in his pants. "how sensitive you are chuchu." you grabbed his jaw and pushed his head back against the cold bathroom wall as he slowly began to jerk himself off. his mouth half-opened to let out little gasps under your envious gaze. "does it feel good baby?" he nodded and bit his lower lip as his eyes fell on your pretty lips. "do it faster for me mh?" he began to stroke himself harder and his back arched as he cried out louder, his body was shaking and his cheeks had become redder, the way choso was desperately trying to speak was so cute that you couldn't help praising him as you stroked his cheek as if he were the most precious thing to you.

"i-im..i-m gonna..." his tears rolled down his cheeks. "c-cum..-ah!-" you wiped his tears with your thumb. he panted loudly, he caught his lip between his teeth as his eyes darted over all the features of your face. "y-you're- so... pretty..ahh-so pretty i love you-" you smiled at him evilly and pressed your nose to his, your hand went down on his and you suddenly removed it from his dick leaving him deprived of his orgasm that was about to explode.

he threw his head back against the wall, hearing him sob in frustration made you so proud of him. "you're so good chuchu." you placed your lips on his chin, kissing it tenderly. "i'll reward you for letting yourself get beat up for me." he mewled as he felt your warm fingers place bandages on the wounds on his stomach while gently kissing his tear-drenched face. you pressed your lips on his eye, making him squeal softly. "your tears are so sweet princess." he whimpered when your lips finally reached his lips, brushing them gently, your hand slipped into his hair, which you grabbed firmly, causing his head to throw back even more. "you wanna fuck?" he moaned when you finally sat on him with his cock resting against your pussy. "you want me to fuck you choso?" he nodded and his mouth half-opened against your lips, his feverish gaze turned you on even more. you slid your hand along the skin of his torso until you reached his cock, which you grabbed, his tongue came out of his mouth with a groan. you pushed his cock into your panties trapping it between the fabric and your wet pussy lips. the tip of his cock slammed against your clit making you both moan against each other's mouths.

"p-please.. fuck me-" choso was so demanding he couldn't take it anymore, seeing you sitting on him so prettily and the sensation of your wet pussy against his cock was driving him crazy he wanted you to fuck him so badly, his body was shaking.

you laughed softly against his mouth. “you're not getting that pussy today.” his gaze turned to distress and you smiled even wider as you began to rub yourself gently against his cock. you bit your lip as you felt the thickness between your pussy lips and the moans of frustration that came out from choso's mouth drove you crazy. “you know why ?” you grabbed his throat and licked his teeth as well as his upper lip, while he stuck out his tongue to try and catch your mouth for a kiss. you moaned, throwing your head back slightly as you felt choso's hands grip your ass firmly, making you rub harder against his cock. you lowered your face again to him, licking one of the many tears that ran down his face. “because i want you to cry even more” choso threw his head back, moaning loudly as he felt your wet pussy jerk his cock faster. “i want to see your face contort with sadness and frustration” you couldn't help imagining someone opening the bathroom door and finding the two of you fucking on the floor, seeing you the little high school princess with the school weirdo's dick stuck in her panties. you bounced even more against his cock as you felt choso's legs shake, a sign that he was about to cum.

your hair fell to your neck and choso watched as your locks caught between your breasts, making you even hotter in his eyes. “p-please..ah..put it in im begging you-” you grabbed his hair and the pressure of his hands on your ass tightened. he cried even more as he felt he was about to cum without feeling your walls around him.

“yes baby keep crying.” you pulled his head back and your other hand went to his jaw, which you grabbed to plant the nail of your thumb in the wound on his cheek. he opened his mouth wide and stuck out his tongue, so close to your lips, he wanted to kiss you so badly. “keep crying for me.” you were about to cum too as you saw choso being a crying and moaning mess, the tears were running down his collarbones and his breathing was so fast that his whole body was shaking underneath you.

you couldn't take your eyes off him as the bathroom door opened on your friend, who gasped at the sight of you. you looked behind you, still rubbing yourself like an animal in heat against choso's cock. “what are you doing here?”

your friend's eyes fell on choso's hands on your ass under your mini skirt. she flushed at the sight. “i-im sorry i couldn’t find you so-” you threw your head back while moaning loudly when you finally decided to slide choso's cock into your pussy. choso opened his mouth wide with surprise and let out a low growl. he'd moan "yes yes yes yes yes" as he finally felt you bounce on his cock as if your life depended on it. “i-i don’t understand whatchu doing here with him.” you smiled as you looked at your friend, she was shocked to see you getting dirty with a guy like choso.

you moaned louder as you felt choso bury his head in your breasts you wrapped an arm around his shoulders letting him know he had your permission to lick them. you sighed. “ahh- what im doing ?” you placed your cheek on choso's head, smiling with all your teeth, your now piercing gaze locked on those of your friend. “im fucking my little bunny right here.” you grabbed choso by the hair once more to pull his head out of your breasts, his gaze was feverish and his mouth hung open with drool running down his chin, his half-open eyes fell on your friend. “look. isn't he cute when he's about to cum?” choso's lower stomach contracted and his back arched against the wall as the walls of your pussy tightened around his cock. you pressed your chest against his and lifted your ass to fall heavily on his cock before bouncing on it quickly making you both moan loudly, you brought back your attention to choso and stuck your tongue into his mouth, your kiss turned him on even more and he couldn't help trying to thrust up into your pussy.

“i-im gonna c-cum-” you left his mouth to lick his tears and the way you were now bouncing on his cock was inhuman, your friend who was still petrified behind you couldn't help but be fascinated by the way you were fucking choso.

you smiled, throwing your head back as you felt your orgasm rising. “you wanna cum baby ? then look at her in her eyes.” you didn’t have to say more when choso came hard in your pussy his eyes were deeply entrenched in those of your friend while you freed yourself as well. choso wrapped his arms around your waist still shaking and hid his face in your breasts again, you stroked his hair with a pretty laugh and looked at your friend behind you again.

“isn't he cute mh? my little princess.”

949 notes · View notes

sincerelyakilljoy · 29 days

Text

YOU WANT IT WHERE?

pairing - boothill x fem!reader length - 1.6k words warnings - nsfw/18+ content, gun play (fucks you with his gun..), slight dacryphilia, choking, biting, slight degradation, pet names (darling, angel, pretty girl, doll..), mirror sex (brought up briefly), semi public sex (in a bar bathroom)

summary - boothill uses his revolver in ways you couldnt even imagine.

NOTES

sorry if some stuff sounds fucking dumb or something, its decently proofread...but once again thank you for reading! (Formatting mayyyy be weird because I uploaded it off my phone, I’ll fix it once I’m home!)

“C’mon doll, use them words f’me.” The cowboy tuts, gray eyes glinting in the light as he stares down at you, toothy grin revealing his sharp teeth.

He has your hands pressed against the bathroom wall of a random bar, hands stretched out in front of you as you spread your legs for him, dress and panties pooled around your ankles. You gasp as you feel the cold steel of his revolver dragging up your inner thigh, teasingly close to where you want it.

“Please…j…just…put it…” You can barely get the words out, sputtering needily as he teases you.

You don’t even know how long it’s been since he first dragged you into the bathroom, feeling like he’s been teasing you forever now, body littered with bite marks and hickies from earlier. Thighs feeling weak and wobbly as you stay standing, shaking and twitching as you let shaky whines slip from your lips.

“P-please, what? Spit it out, girl...” He mocks you, wolfish grin plastered on his face as he looks down at you. “Where you wan’ it? Right here, sweetheart?” He smirks, pressing the muzzle of the gun against your aching clit, rubbing the freezing metal against it in a harsh circular motion while he leans in, running his tongue from your jawline to the skin of your neck before roughly nipping at your pulse point.

You let out a pretty sob at the feeling, hips bucking back towards him as you slump forward, arms folding against the wall as you press your forehead against them. You try to position yourself so that all your weight isn't completely settled on your legs.

He steps back slightly, boots clicking against the concrete floor, shaking his head as you shift your position. “Uh, uh, arms straight out, angel.” He tuts, one of his metal hands moving to put your arms back to the previous position from before while keeping his revolver pressed to your throbbing clit. “Stay still, girl.”

You whine as he puts you back in place, arms outstretched in front of you once again. He slides a hand up your spine, humming with a smirk as he watches you shiver from the cold metal grazing your skin. He hums to himself as he presses his hand to the middle of your back, pushing you down to put you in a more arched position.

Boothill starts to drag the barrel of his gun between your wet folds, grinning as he sees the metal shine in the light from your slick. “Y’er so wet… Such a filthy little thing, aren’t ya’?”

He starts to slide the barrel back and forth between your drenched folds, muzzle nudging and bumping against your clit as you whine, thighs twitching and shaking from the dizzying feeling. Your hands balled into fists against the wall as your hips buck against the cold weapon in a stuttering rhythm.

Boothill stares down at you with a lazy smile, admiring the way you’re so needy, getting all hot and bothered just from his revolver pressing against your pussy. The way you’re moaning and whining sounding like music to his ears.

Absolutely filthy.

He leans in, his metal chest pressing against your back, settling his weight on you. He presses a wet kiss to your shoulder before biting down, his sharp teeth pressing into your skin, making you let out a loud yelp at the feeling.

He smirks at your yelp before lolling out his tongue to lave over the stinging bite mark, lapping up the small droplets of blood that bubbles from the wound. He continues to thrust the barrel of his revolver against your slick folds, your hips needily moving in tandem with the gun as lewd moans and gasps fall from your pretty lips.

Boothill slides the revolver along your folds one last time before pulling it away, looking at how your sticky juices drip down the barrel with a grin, a thin line of slick connecting your pussy to the gun's muzzle. “Such a needy girl, you want some more? Yeah?” Toothy grin evident in his voice as he sneers into your ear, nipping at your earlobe.

You gasp and nod your head needily, whining as he pulls the gun away from you soaking folds, leaving you keening for more. “Mhm… Need so’more…” You babble, gazing at him from one your shoulder once again, eyes silently begging him.

Boothill grew smug as he heard your whining and begging, his hand sliding from your hip to your throat, gripping it tightly as he roughly yanks you back towards him, making you gasp and stand up straight with your back pressed against his cold, steel chest.

He tightens his grip around your throat, squeezing with just enough force to have you gasping. He turns the both of you around so you’re looking into the bathroom mirror, seeing your flushed face and sticky thighs.

You look away in embarrassment, squeezing your eyes shut as you breathe shakily, head tilted back against his shoulder as his hand stays on your throat.

“C’mon, Angel. Take a look at yer’self...” Boothill grins, hand coming up to roughly grab your jaw, forcing your head in the direction of the mirror. “Open those eyes, girl. Don’t make me ask again.”

You look at yourself in the mirror, bite marks decorating your skin. The faint bruises from where his hands gripped your hips a little too tight, body looking disheveled like you’ve been through hell and back.

He slides his hand back to your throat, gripping it just as tightly as before while his other hand starts to drag his revolver up your stomach to your chest, harshly pressing the muzzle against the swell of your breast, making you let out a shuddering moan.

“Look at y’er face…lookin’ all pretty just f’me…” Boothill murmurs into your ear, running his wet tongue along the shell of your ear. Dragging the barrel of the gun over your breasts, freezing metal running over your sensitive nipples, making you gasp and squirm against him.

A pretty whine falls from your lips as you feel his tongue against your ear. Your eyes fall into a squint, looking at yourself in the mirror with bleary eyes, feeling yourself grow wetter. Your back arching hard against his steel body. His gun presses against your sternum as he drags the revolver down your stomach, back down to your needy pussy. Pressing the muzzle against your slick folds.

“Just look at how soaked you are… Just from me rubbing my gun against that pretty little cunt of yours.” He whispers into your ear, rubbing the revolver against your clit before sliding it to press it right against your entrance, making you gasp loudly.

“I bet I can just slide this ol’thing right into your soaked pussy…you want that, darlin’?” He murmurs, starting to press the muzzle into your cunt.

A shrill moan, one that can probably be heard from outside the bathroom, slips from your lips. You’re quickly quieted by Boothills hand moving from your throat to clasp around your mouth tightly, shutting you up as he pushes the barrel of his revolver further into your cunt, the cold metal stretching you wider.

“Need ya’ to keep quiet, gorgeous.” He hums, slowly starting to thrust the barrel in and out of you, making you squirm against him. Your sobs drowned out by his hand clamped tightly over your mouth.

“Just look at how your cunt’s swallowing my gun, such a dirty girl.” Boothill sneered, pushing the revolver's barrel in and out of you faster with a dirty smirk playing on his lips.

Your hands move to grip onto his steel forearms, holding onto him as tightly as you can as your hips buck in time with the shallow thrusts of his gun. You cry and whimper against his hand that muffles you, warm tears starting to roll down your cheeks as you feel your orgasm rapidly approaching, walls twitching around the metal barrel.

It's foul, downright disgusting the way your pussy squelches with each movement of the revolver. Arousal dripping down your thighs while your eyes squeeze shut, hips needily rolling in tandem with the weapons thrusts, desperately chasing your orgasm.

“You ‘boutta cum already, pretty?” Boothill grins as he leans in to run his tongue along your flushed cheek, licking up the salty tears rolling down your pretty face. “Go ahead, sweetheart, squirt on my gun like the filthy little thing you are.”

And just like that you do.

Loud, broken sobs and moans of his name falling from your lips, muffled by his hand clamped over your mouth. Your hips bucking pathetically as you cum, juices gushing out of you like a faucet. Drenching your inner thighs and the revolver’s barrel as it stays pushed deep inside of you. Your legs feeling weak and ready to give out as you slump back against him, whimpering as he fucks you with his revolver through your orgasm.

Boothill’s hand leaves to grab your jaw, forcing your head to look up as he pulls you in for a sloppy kiss. His long, black and white hair falling over his shoulders as he towers over you. His lips swallow your lewd gasps and whimpers, tongue licking the seam of your lips before forcing it’s way into your mouth. He groans quietly against your lips before pulling away slightly to nip at your bottom lip just to dive in once again, sliding his tongue with yours messily.

Once you start to calm down he starts to slowly slide his revolver’s barrel from your spent cunt, making you whine into his mouth from the loss of that full feeling, walls spasming around nothing as it slides out of you completley.

He breaks the kiss, intense eyes boring into yours as you pant breathlessly. His arm moves to wrap around your waist, holding you up against him as he leans in to rest his chin on your shoulder, peering down at you as he looks down at his revolver, drenched with your sticky arousal.

He smirks at the sight, his hand moving to bring his revolver to your lips, pressing the slick coated muzzle against them. “What a mess you've made...” He tuts, gently pushing the gun between your lips.

“Think you should clean it up like a good girl.”

#boothill honkai star rail #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #hsr boothill #hsr x reader #boothill hsr #boothill x you #boothill #boothill x reader #fan fiction #fan fic author #smut fanfiction

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nuhuhwinniethepooh · 1 month

Text

B-urn

Tags : Fluff then Angst, Smitten Gojo Satoru x F!Reader :), Gojo as a hateful dad, character death.

A/N : I've had enough of soft dad Gojo Satoru, I need some hateful dad Gojo Satoru or something similar to it at least.

WC : 1.7k

__________________________________________________

1 " Hey 'toru, Get some peaches on your way back. " " Hey, honey. "

"You're crazy," you whisper speechlessly, pushing a strand of wet hair off your eyes and gazing blankly at Satoru kneeling on the tiled floor with a velvet box in his hand, encasing a sparkly ring inside- both his and your birthstones, you notice.

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. But one thing's for sure, I never thought I wanted to settle down. But now...now I just can't imagine a future without you," Satoru starts, you've never seen him so genuine of his feelings, so innocently vulnerable like he's gonna shatter if you say no.

"So please, answer my question. Can I marry you and make myself the happiest man to have ever lived?" He continues, gentler this time. You bite your bottom lip, holding a sob back as you nod, too afraid that you'll fall apart if you speak. You nod once again, feeling warmth envelop your skin as Satoru throws himself at you and peppers your face with kisses- 'Thank you's' and 'I love you's' slipping out his mouth like butter on a heated pan as he slips the ring on your finger.

You clear your throat, backing away as you look at the ring glint under the light with a smile," it's beautiful, Satoru. I love it but next time, please don't propose to me in the bathroom when I'm fresh out of the shower," you say with a wide grin on your face, tugging the towel around you to secure its position again. Satoru responds with a huge grin of his own, pulling you close and nuzzling your neck," Couldn't wait for tonight's date, I've waited long enough for this," he mumbles, placing soft kisses against your damp skin.

"Tha-," he shuts you up with his lips, "Okay, fine. Sorry, I'll keep the destination in mind next time," he apologizes with a sheepish grin but you know better than that, he's not the least bit sorry.

2 " I'm going shopping with your mum for my wedding dress today, I might be a little late. " " I hope you're doing fine "

The wedding was perfect from start to finish, the Gojo clan doing all the grunt work while the two of you made the final call at the end. Everything was perfect for Satoru, especially you. He even tears up a little when he watches you walk down the aisle towards him- muted giggles echoing in the enclosed wedding hall at his reaction. He had his blindfold removed for the day despite the fact that the shards of decorated glass and bright lights irritated his six eyes, a small sacrifice for the greater good.

The greater good being getting a better look at you, every blemish, every scar and every battle wound peeking out of your wedding dress was perfection to him. His heart tap-dancing in his chest when he meets your eyes, absolutely smitten for the look of pure joy in your face when your father finally rests your hand on Satoru's and the officiant starts the wedding, his words falling on deaf ears when Satoru chooses to gaze at you with adoration in his eyes instead.

Popping out of his reverie when your sparkling eyes meets his and a smile tugs at your lips," You're supposed to say 'I do' now," you whisper, squeezing his hand. "I do," his voice rings, loud and clear, squeezing your hand back after you do the same.

"You may kiss the bride." Finally.

"My wife," he thinks to himself happily before pulling you in and crushing your lips against his, the cheers from the crowd gradually turning into background noise, getting lost in the feeling of your warmth against his. He breaks the kiss only when thunder erupts and the pitter-patter of the rain starts loud and ominously, he turns and looks at you worriedly only to be left surprised when you look back at him with delight.

"Looks like even the heavens are blessing our wedding now," you hum, pulling him by the arm towards the door to the large balcony. Pushing the door open and dragging him towards the middle of the open balcony with a grin, the heavy rain immediately drenching the two of you- you let go of his arm, turning to face him with a hand held out," Can I have this dance?" a teasing grin on your face, Satoru swears his heart actually stopped for a second; grabbing hold of your hand, he places a quick kiss on your knuckles," gladly."

Gently swaying in the rain to the music drifting from the wedding hall, Satoru couldn't be happier. He's the happiest man to have ever lived when in your arms.

3 " 'll make breakfast tomorrow though, you want anything? " " I'm not sure if I told you this enough but "

Getting pregnant 3 years after your marriage wouldn't have been a surprising thing but it was for the two of you considering the fact that you went at it like rabbits. You wanted kids, he didn't, heirs and other matters be damned. He wanted you to himself for as long as possible, hoard your attention and love for as long as he could before you finally put your foot down.

The dreaded day arrived sooner than he liked, he'd have preferred another 7 years alone with you but you didn't give in this time. Adamant on bearing his child and starting a family, how could he ever say no to you? So he gives in and fucks you with a new goal in mind- getting you pregnant with his child.

Two weeks later, your breathe hitches as you look at the stick in your hand- you're pregnant. Excited squeals gushing out of you, you rush out the bathroom and to the shared master bedroom where you hold the pregnancy test up at Satoru's face. He looks at you with mild shock in his face," already?" He asks softly, taking the stick from your hand and looking at it blankly, sitting down on the edge of the bed besides him, you nod excitedly," We're gonna be parents, s'toru!"

Before you know it, he throws the test aside on the floor, pulling you in his arms and crushing you under his weight as he presses kisses all over your flushed face," we're gonna be parents!" You giggle, hands cupping his cheeks to slow down the barrage of kisses. Satoru still wasn't really sure about the idea of a child yet but your joy at the thought of it was enough for him to push that idea aside, what you wanted was what he wanted, it's a universal rule.

"We gotta celebrate this now, don't we?" He mumbles, hands slowly sliding under your shirt with a smirk, earning him a swat against his chest. "Gosh, you're disgusting," you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and pulling him in. "And you love me for it, Mama," he coos, pressing a light kiss at the corner of your lips- your heart swells at the thought of being a mother, you were finally gonna start a family of your own with the man you love, life couldn't get any better.

4 " It might rain today so call me when you're done, okay? I'll come pick you up. " " I love you so much "

Fear and respect, two sides of the same coin, was easy to come by when it came to Gojo Satoru, hating even easier but what was hard was loving him, harder than it should be- Loving him was like climbing up a snowy mountain with nothing but a fork, Loving him was like crossing the seven seas with only a raft, Loving him was like trying to figure out what to do with a beloved china bowl that got smashed into pieces. It was nigh impossible to love him, anyone who did try gave up halfway through, only leaving him worse still. But everything changed once you came along.

You didn't climb the snowy mountain with a fork, not at all. You just waited long enough for a ski lift to be built for skiing enthusiasts and then took the lift yourself. You gave him time to adapt, time to breathe before finally making your way through the icy remnants of his scarred heart.

You didn't travel the seven seas with a raft, not at all. You just sold the raft and bought yourself a ticket for a worldwide cruise, enjoying every single moment on the long trip back to him. You gave him patience and waited happily for him to come around.

You didn't just accept your fate to pick the broken china pieces and throw it in the bin, not at all. You just gently assembled it and glazed it with lacquer, painstakingly painting over every crack with gold. You didn't fix him, you just accepted all of his broken pieces, that's all - the rest he did it himself.

It wasnt the fact that you took the easy way out, not at all. It was the fact that you put the effort to think about ways to love him- It was always hard to love Satoru, you just made it easy. So if someone asks Satoru why he loves you so, all he does is smile and answers " no reason at all." He just loves everything about you, he doesn't need a reason to do so.

5 " You don't sound so well, is everything okay? " " More than you could ever know "

20 weeks, 5 months, into your pregnancy and Satoru's already starting to feel uneasy, the change is small, unnoticeable to the normal eye even. But the change is there, his six eyes catching everything. You've gotten weaker, not externally per se but internally. He brings it up once when the two of you cuddle in the bed, you laugh and brush it off by saying," it's only natural." He's not convinced but he doesn't push it, opting to graze the curve of your cheek instead.

Something was really wrong, very, very wrong- You've been rapidly losing weight, the complete opposite of what should be happening. The growing baby bump only makes you grow thinner, finding it hard to even do the basic things, having to rely on Satoru for everything. He'd have been delighted on being relied on some other time but this time he's not, he's more concerned than anything.

The trip to the doctors doesnt change a single thing, every single one of them saying the same thing over and over and over again. "She's fine, just a rare case. It's better than it looks, 'ts just an uncommon case of weight loss during pregnancy." He swears its not, the very molecules that makes up you seems to be slowly but steadily gathering and surrounding one particular place, your belly but how could they know that? They were normal doctors, not some omniscient sorcerer like him.

So he grits his teeth, quietly holding your hand and holding onto his last hope, Shoko. Despite it not being her area of expertise, he can only hope for the best afterall she was a sorcerer too, she has to have the ability to figure it out...doesn't she? All hope comes crashing down when Shoko shakes her head, there was nothing wrong with you, the final verdict.

" I told you, didn't I? It's just an uncommon case, honey. You're too paranoid," you grin and tiredly pat his hand, boney fingers brushing against his. Your engagement ring and wedding ring hanging around a chain on your neck glistens blindingly under the stark hospital light- it became too loose to fit you anymore. Satoru feels slight prickles in his eyes from underneath the blindfold, he doesn't know why but he does. Forcing a tight smile at you, he nods," You might be right dear, but you know I can't help it when it comes to you," he mumbles, placing a chaste kiss on your knuckles to hide his falling smile. You chuckle lightly, flushing at the contact," You're such a silly man, 'toru. "

6 " Hmm? Oh I'm fine, don't worry. How's work though? " " And I swear I've tried, I really have "

Problems over problems befall, the number of curses quickly increasing exponentially with no rhyme or reason and the higher-ups pressuring him from all side was taking a toll on him, not to mention your declining health. You looked healthier now, taking the supplements that Shoko provided helped you not look like you were gonna fall dead at any given moment. A farce, Satoru notes, you're healthier on the outside, dying on the inside. He even contemplates getting rid of the thing inside you completely but as if like you read his mind, telepathically catching onto his thoughts, you become more protective.

Hands always wrapped around your belly and eyes instinctively following his every movement, always on sharp alert. Waiting for something to happen, you're not entirely sure for what but you wait. Catching onto your guarded attitude, Satoru drops the idea immediately. He doesn't want you to hate him, he'd die if you did and even he's not sure if he means it figuratively.

He makes sure to coo at your belly every night though, sure he doesn't want a child but that didn't mean he didn't feel any love for it despite the toll it took on you. He just hates it as a husband and loves it as a father- hates it even more as a lover. Hiding his slowly growing apprehension of the unborn child inside you with a mask of an excited father-to-be.

You know Satoru acts off this days especially when he interacts with the baby but you don't say anything, he's a busy man and you were currently out of service which meant double the work, you couldn't possibly have the right to ask him what's wrong, right?

7 " 'Toru, don't worry about me. I'm not mad, I promise. Just try to get your business trip finish a little faster okay? " " So please don't hate me too much "

You're a nervous wreck, anxiety fully settling deep in your bones despite the contractions. The pain was doing nothing to alleviate the turmoil inside you other than making it worse, 7 hours in after your water broke and Satoru is nowhere in sight- you're nervous, in pain and surrounded by strangers. Shoko was kicked out, 'only family members are allowed in' they said, despite your pleas they ignore you. They were gonna have hell to pay later until then you had to push through it by yourself, it couldn't possibly get any worse.

Biting down on your lips after screaming your throat hoarse, you squeeze your eyes shut, the salty taste of your tears mixing in with the metallic ones on your lips only making you want to gag. Slowly, loud words starts to blur and dim as your vision gets hazy, drifting in and out of your consciousness while barely catching sight of the figures hovering around you," I see the head!" One particularly loud statement snaps you back into reality, everything ending too quickly from there with still no sign of your husband anywhere.

With the first cry resounding in the room, your heart rate falls rapidly; the once searing pain only a throb now, a small respite but an unwelcoming one. You wish for the numbing chill to be replaced for the burning pain, praying for the latter if it meant that you could still breathe in the scent of his skin, still comb your fingers through arctic white hair, still stare into his cerulean blue eyes, still lay your head above hi- "I'm sorry" a hushed whisper in the chaos.

The high-pitched beeps flatlines, parallel lines all in all. The silence is too loud and the air too thick, working their way to restart a heart that's already dead and gone. Somewhere in the distance another heart drops, not with the promise of death but of something much worse. What use is a beating heart if the soul is already dead?

8 " I'm sorry I couldn't make it, I swear I tried " " But I can't do it "

Satoru doesn't hate her. No, he abhors her. The feeling of complete hatred and malice against an individual- every babble, every cry, every coo, her very existence disgusts him to the core. Somedays he just wants to snap her neck, it'd be so easy, so quick, so satisfying, so very dreadful. Somedays Satoru even considers it, his long slender fingers wrapping around her small sleeping figure and squeezing just a little, just a twitch but her eyes always flutters open, always gazes at him with a smile, always holds her chubby little arms out to him.

It's not her smile, her voice or his guilty conscience that stops him, it's her eyes. Your eyes. The curve, the shape, the color, the very crinkle reminds him of you, your eyes are staring back at him but it's not you. It'll never be you. Pulling his hand back like he got burned, he rushes out. It's what he always does these days, he runs and runs until he can't anymore, hoping that maybe somewhere along the way, he'll finally find you again.

You're so cruel and so very heartless, if you were gonna leave him in the end you should've never made him love you at all but you did, you did and he loves you. He loves you and you left.

Satoru is always bitter, maybe if she didn't have your eyes then maybe it'd be easier to get rid of her, maybe it'd be easier for him to move on. But you're always there, your first gift being her last saving grace. Your eyes, your first, your life, your last. Maybe you knew about it, you always did say that you wanted a baby that looked like you. He never bothered to ask why because he agreed with you, he always agrees with you, but now he seems to understand why, you always did understand him better than he did himself.

So all he does is mourn, he mourns but he doesn't cry- he didn't cry when he got the news of your death neither did he cry when he saw your body, not a single tear in sight. He just silently stood by your side, gently grazing your face with a finger, hands interlocked with yours until your last moment. And like all sorcerers fate, he watched your body get cremated until nothing but ashes were left in the end. Silently making his way back to a dark and empty house with nothing but the urn of your ash in his hand. He still doesn't cry when he hugs the urn close to his chest and stares at your side of the bed late into the night, he doesn't cry at all.

He doesn't cry because he can't cry. Tears are the embodiment of an emotion, what use are they for a man who's already gone numb?

9 " I love you " " I can't love her "

"Hiiii, 'toru"

"Hey, honey."

"How's everything over there?"

"She's growing up fast, you'd be surprised. She has my hair, y'know? Well, the color at least. It's funny how she's starting to resemble me, it's almost uncanny. She has your eyes though, it's like she copy-pasted your eyes onto hers, it's almost scary because it feels like it's you thats looking back at me sometimes. And well, she started going school now; just wanted to let you know that-"

"Well, that's sounds fun"

"...it's really not, not without you here"

"Aww, you miss me that much~?"

"I do, I miss you so much that it physically hurts"

"Aww I miss you too, honey. Tell you wha-"

Satoru sighs, cutting the saved voice message. What was he even doing, answering to your pre-recorded voice like a deranged person. But maybe he was deranged or tired perhaps both, he's not sure but what he was sure of was the fact that he hated he-

"Papa?"

Satoru hears before he sees, the door swinging open ever so slightly to showcase a pair of eyes, your eyes, meekly looking at him. Your eyes in his face but it's not you neither is it him, it's neither you or him but it's both you and him. It's so conflicting.

"What is it?" His voice softer than he wanted it, harsher than expected.

"I just wanted to show you the drawing I made today in class." Her voice is quiet, her footsteps even quieter as she slowly walks up to him, a rolled up paper carefully held in one tiny fist. She was so small, so tiny, so quiet, so utterly disgusting. Placing it down flat ever so quietly on the table, she takes a step back "It's you, me and...mama" she mumbles, pointing at the three stick figures accordingly.

Satoru pulls his blindfold up and narrows his eyes at the stick figure that was apparently you, your hair was wrong, the color, the length, the very style was wrong. "I-I don't know how mama looks like" she admits, tiny hands grabbing onto her shirt as she looks down.

"Of course, you don't. You killed her, sucked her life-force right out like a fucking parasite" he thinks bitterly to himself, fingers grazing over the paper. Everything was wrong, this whole situation was wrong, but the crudely drawn smile on your face wasn't. The smile wasn't, your smile wasn't. The edges of the crayon smile was raised just perfectly, you smiled just like that, always did even when he-

"Papa?" She calls out, eyes peeking through the soft tufts of arctic white hair- Satoru clears his throat, quietly re-adjusting his blindfold before nodding quickly "it's good, good job." He says, fingers gently outlining the curve of the crayon smile- it's what you would've said to her had you been the one in his place so it's what he'll say to her in your place. "You may leave now"

And don't ever come back.

She nods, reaching out for her drawing but Satoru shakes his head, tugging it closer to him which earns him a surprised reaction, something hopeful glinting in her eyes as she nods and quietly scurries out the door. He sighs when the door closes with a click, standing up and rummaging through his office for a spare frame. You'd have framed it and gushed about it had you been there but you weren't so the least he could do was frame it, he's framing it because it's what you would've done, it's what you would've wanted him to do.

He can't love her for you, he loves you and he'd do anything for you but loving her for you? He can't do that, he's more selfish than that.

Satoru sighs as he carefully puts the drawing in the frame, it's what you would've wanted, it's what you would've done. So he'll do it for you because it's you that loved her.

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THIS TOOK SO LONG AND IM FINALLY BACK! I ALSO FOUND A PARTTIME JOB! YAY! Gonna take a lot to buy a new laptop though so wish me luck!

Masterlist

#nuhuhwinniepooh #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo angst #satoru x reader #Satoru x reader angst #satoru angst #jjk gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x reader angst #jjk angst #I

450 notes · View notes

bedoballoons · 6 months

Note

Genshin Mens with an S/o that always so happy and bubbly from the outside/public but at home they are actually tired and secretly crying in the bathroom while the shower is on so hoping that They wont hear the reader crying

I have been waiting to write this oh my gosh!! Love this idea, but just in case you're feeling like the reader, know it's okay to cry and if you ever need to talk to someone you're welcome to talk to me and I'll do the best I can to comfort you <3

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃

{༻~All alone~༺}

CW: Angsty: Hidden emotions, crying, depression, some slight yelling in Xiaos and worried characters! Modern AU! (Pet names: Lyney: My love, Zhongli: Darling, Xiao: Flower, Kazuha: Honey, Neuvillette: Mon amour)

(Includes: Lyney, Zhongli, Xiao, and Kazuha!)

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𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyneys knuckles gently tapped against the wooden door of the bathroom, his voice sweet and filled with love "Mon amour, you alright? You've been in the shower awhile" ...although if you listened closely, you could hear the undertone of worries in his words. No matter how well you hid it in public, he could always sense you were off, he knew when smiles were genuine and yours rarely was anymore and no amount hiding in the bathroom could make your pain less noticeable to him.

Meanwhile you were on the other side of the door, knees pulled close to your chest and tears rolling down your cheeks as you tried to breath in the mist filled room, the sound of the shower drowning out your soft sobs to the best of its abilities. You sniffled, trying to make your voice sound normal despite the emotions that were tugging at your throat, "Yeah honey! I'm fine! Just wanted to pamper myself a little!"

The magician sighed, slowly sinking to the floor... he wished so desperately you'd just let him in, let him lighten the burdens you were carrying, " Mon amour...I know that's not true. Please, let's talk.." You could barely hear him over your own mind screaming at you...worries and images of your issues dragging him down with you, drowning any ideas of actually accepting his offer to the bottom of your heart.

"I'm fine."

𑁍༄Zhongli:

You laughed out loud, others laughing along with you like everything was absolutely perfect...while Zhonglis yellow eyes saw otherwise, his gaze never leaving your sweet face. He could see it in your eyes, the way your laughter no longer sounded the same....the way you held yourself differently when others were around compare to when you were home alone with him. He just didn't understand why you weren't talking with him...why you were hiding your feelings.

Of course he wouldn't pressure you, he'd do his best to encourage you to lean on him...rest when you looked tired, do his best to show you how much he loved you, but it didn't seem to stop. You'd still disappear into the bathroom, shower running while he paced back and forth outside the door, wishing he knew more about human emotions, wishing he could just do...something.

"Darling, I'm here if you need me...I love you."

"Just taking a shower!....love you too!"

𑁍༄Xiao:

Xiao was panicking, all his life he'd never found love till he met you and now you were hurting in a way he didn't know how to solve. He thought you were happy, smiling and laughing like usual...but overtime he would notice that something had changed. You no longer laughed till you cried anymore and even when you seemed at your highest...you still had dark bags under your eyes, sadness clinging to your words.

Now he'd caught you crying behind a closed door, sobs barely audible over the sound of the shower running and breathing messy...uneven, you sounded like your heart was shattering. He couldn't stand hearing you sound so broken, standing there doing nothing to help you when one of the things he loved most was protecting you, so he teleported into the room..hoping you'd forgive the intrusion.

He was shocked at first, to see you curled up by the door crying, barely able to breath as you rocked back and fourth...he wanted to run to you, pull you into a tight hug, tell you he'd make it all okay if you asked, but he didn't want to startle you and make the situation worse, "Flower...I'm here...can I help?"

"Xiao?!? What a-are you doing in here!? G-get out!"

"I'm worried about you, you're hiding your emotions and pretending like your okay when you aren't...I just want to help you."

"You're not one t-to talk! You hide what you're f-feeling all the time! Just leave me alone!!"

"No, I'm not leaving here until I figure out what's going on. I haven't waited thousands of years to find love and let it slip away because I didn't offer comfort when I should have!"

You covered your ears and opened the door, "THEN MAYBE YOU SHOULD HAVE WAITED L-LONGER!"

𑁍༄Kazuha:

Kazuha sighed, humming against the doorframe while he thought of your wonderful smile that always made his heart race...and your bubbly personality that contrasted so well with his calm collected one, but lately things hadn't had the same magical loving feeling they used to, even his poems barely made a glint in your eyes, you just seemed so put out. Even after sleeping, when he'd try to hold you close and make sure you rested comfortably in the morning, you'd almost instantly pull away...leave to take a shower.

"Hey honey, you doing okay in there? I don't want to bother you...I've just noticed you seemed to be feeling down more often. I guess I just...worry about you. I love you and I want to make sure you're happy..." The shower flicked off as he finished his sentence and for a split second he had hope you would talk with him, but when the door opened, you stood in front of him wrapped in a towel...eyes red and puffy, and that same fake daunting smile on your lips.

"Kazuha honey, what're you doing outside of the door? Were you talking to me? I didn't hear anything..."

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◥(•̀￦•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

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steddieas-shegoes · 2 months

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always you

wanted to wish @rozzieroos a very happy birthday! you've been so supportive of me since the beginning and it makes a world of difference to someone who is always just a bit nervous to share the things they write. i am unfortunately not a very crafty bitch, so i can't return the friendship bracelet favor right now, but i hope this is a nice little sappy gift for ya! sending you big hugs and all my love 💕 - mickala

rated t | 1,324 words | no cw | tags: fluff, established relationship, the most miniscule hurt and almost entirely comfort, boys in love, side platonic stobin stuff but robin isn't technically there

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

Steve always had an adrenaline crash after a visit from Robin. The first time it happened, Eddie was convinced they would have to move to Boston just so Steve could get out of the funk. Luckily, they figured out what to do after a couple of days.

And every time it's happened since, they manage to get him out of it pretty quickly.

But this time seemed worse, and Eddie wasn't sure why.

As far as he could tell, everything about the visit was normal. Robin came for a long weekend, they all went to dinner together the first night, Eddie had to work on Saturday so Steve and Robin had their fun together. Sunday, they all went to brunch together before dropping her off at the airport.

And Steve was fine! That evening he was cooking dinner and dancing to music while Eddie wrote some notes for a campaign he was running with work buddies. They ate together and Eddie did the dishes while Steve went through his nightly routine of locking up.

They even gave each other blowjobs in the shower.

But this morning, as soon as Eddie opened his eyes and smelled the bleach, he knew it was bad.

He sat up and looked out the open bedroom door.

"Fuck."

He got up quickly, throwing on the closest pair of pants he could find, probably Steve's since they felt baggier than his own, and made his way down the hall to the bathroom.

Steve was on his knees, scrubbing the shower like it personally offended him.

"Hey sweetheart, everything okay?" He asked hesitantly.

"Fine," Steve answered, clearly very far from fine.

Eddie sighed and sat on the closed toilet lid. "Stevie, it's okay if you wanna have a sad day. I know it's hard when Robin goes back home. I'm off today so we can just relax in bed if you want."

Eddie would never tell Steve that the reason he was off was because as soon as he knew when Robin was going back home, he'd requested the day off to be here for Steve.

"I don't need a sad day. I'm fine."

"Yeah, that's why you've scrubbed the shower until it's literally sparkling at way too early in the morning," Eddie reached out and covered his shoulder. "It's okay to miss her. I know it's hard."

Steve stopped scrubbing.

Eddie prepared for what was likely to be a very ugly and loud sob.

Steve turned to him with his lips quivering and eyes watery.

"Oh, sweetheart," Eddie said as he got on the floor with Steve and pulled him into his lap. "It's gonna be alright. We're gonna visit her next month, remember?"

"I know," Steve said against his shoulder, voice wobbling like he was still holding back tears. "I just don't wanna keep doing this."

"What?"

"I hate being so far from her. We were supposed to live close enough to see each other every weekend and have sleepovers and now she's in Boston with her girlfriend who is amazing, and I'm here with you and you're amazing, but I miss her. And I know she misses me." Eddie could feel tears soaking his shirt. "And it's stupid that we're so codependent still, and I feel bad that you probably feel like you're not enough."

"Sweetheart, I don't ever feel that way. I've never felt that way. Have I made you feel like I feel that way?" Eddie tightened his grip around Steve.

"No, not really," Steve shrugged. "It's just I know we're a lot. And I know it sometimes probably seems like I need her more than I need you, but I don't."

"Sweetheart, I know that." Eddie kissed the top of his head and smiled. "You're a package deal. I knew that the moment you kissed me in the hospital room. I was getting Steve and his platonic soulmate Robin, or I wasn't getting Steve at all. I know how important she is to you. Don't you think she's important to me too?"

"I guess," Steve shrugged again, sniffling against Eddie's shirt.

"Well, how could she not be? She helped make sure you stayed safe before I was there to protect you. She knows exactly what to do when you have nightmares, taught me everything she could so I could be there for you. She sends me tapes she thinks I'll like when she sends you care packages. She was the second person I ever came out to! "

"Wait, I thought I was the second person you came out to."

"You were the third. She was a practice run when I saw her staring at the young nurse who checked my vitals the day I woke up. She's the one who told me I should tell you," Eddie nudged him away for a moment so he could look down at him. "I wouldn't be on this floor with you five years later if not for her. She's kinda important to me."

"I just hate that I get like this!" Steve finally said. "I hate that this happens every time. It's not fair to you."

"Love, it's okay. I know how to help." Eddie kissed his forehead. "Go ahead and wash your hands and go get back in bed. I'm gonna grab a book and we're gonna cuddle for a bit."

"But-"

"And then!" Eddie continued, louder. "We'll get pizza delivered for lunch even though we shouldn't. We'll call Robin. We'll take a bath. I'll wash your hair. I'll make us that roasted chicken stuff you like for dinner. It'll be perfect."

"Okay."

"And then-"

"There's more?" Eddie could hear the smirk in Steve's voice even though he'd buried his face against his neck again.

"Of course there's more." Eddie poked his side. "And then we're gonna start talking about moving closer to Boston so we can visit her more than three times a year."

"Eds, we can't afford Boston."

"I know. But we can afford New England if we find the right spots. We'll have her send us some ads for places for rent. I can transfer within the company. You're a teacher, you can work anywhere."

"You make it sound so easy."

"It is so easy. Making you happy is the easiest thing I'll ever do."

"But you have to be happy too."

"I will be. You wanna know why?"

"Why?"

"Because I'll still have you. And let's be honest, it's way more likely that one of the New England states is gonna let us get married before fucking Illinois."

Steve chuckled. "Married? Who said anything about getting married?"

"Oh, did I forget to mention? I planned on spending the rest of my life with you."

"I know that, goofball." Steve let out another genuine laugh. "I just didn't think you'd ever wanna actually get the law involved if they ever let us."

"Steven, I don't involve the law, the law involves me."

"I don't think that's how it works, babe," Steve kissed his neck before pulling away. "I think all that sounds nice though."

"Then hop to it, Harrington! We've got a bed to get back into."

Once they settled in their bed, Steve curled into Eddie's side while he opened the book they'd been reading for a week now, he looked up at Eddie with a soft smile.

"I love you a lot, you know?"

"I know, angel. I love you a lot more," Eddie replied, leaning down to kiss his lips softly.

They'd spend the day exactly as Eddie said they would.

They'd find a place only two hours from Robin and move less than a month later.

They'd get married as soon as it was legal for them to do it.

They rescued a dog.

They even adopted twins.

And every single time Steve wanted to see Robin, they packed up the car and went to visit her.

Because Steve had Eddie, and Eddie had Steve, but they both had Robin.

#steddie #steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson #fluff #established relationship #idk i just think we should appreciate robin's place in THEIR relationship more #like you're tellin me she doesn't latch onto eddie too???#you're tellin me eddie and robin aren't thick as thieves???#please

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planete777 · 9 months

Text

꒰ RED LINES .:. LN4 ꒱

( lando norris x fem!reader )

IN WHICH. y/n finds her fate hidden within two red lines, and fears the demise of her and lando's relationship. [based on this ask]

pt. 2 .:. 'red hearts'!

WARNINGS. pregnant!reader, both her and lando aren't ready so there are discussions about potential abortions, mental break downs (i.e panic attacks, crying, you know the drill), angst, mentions of throwing up (no one does it i promise), attachment issues (like me fr), a little bit of fluff (because im not that evil >:])

NOTE. first non-high!lando fic!! i've never written a pregnancy fic, so like, forgive me if it's bad haha 🥲 i put so much effort into my banner, like i'm so proud of it lmao. anyways, enjoy reading luvs 💗

SIDENOTE. my askbox is open! feel free to send in any high!lando thoughts, scenarios and requests, or any other trope too 🤍

edited to add tag in banner

y/n is almost blinded by it.

two bold, red lines.

she finds it completely comical how she didn't know it sooner, for the ink that runs down the result window is so palpable, it might as well have been written with a permanent marker.

the test taunts and mocks her as she stares at it in complete despair and confusion as she so sure that they had been careful. but now, she lets herself cry over spilt milk because having a baby, on top of mountainous piles of stress that came hand-in-hand with uni, was not a checkbox she would've liked to tick off amidst her status quo.

the bathroom pounds with an deafeningly eerie silence, as she stares, and stares, then blinks as tears flow, then stares again. her ears are swallowed by loud static and her vision fuzzes around the edges, making the test in her hand seem further away than it actually is, and she allows herself to completely fade out.

she feel utterly sick. like she wants to throw up, but the upcoming bile, instead, remains dislodged in her throat and presses immense weight into her chest. it shortens her breaths, she's hyperventilating as if she's been strangled, then panic completely overwhelms her. everything before her zooms in and out like a malfunctioning camera and the pregnancy test clatters to the ground as she digs the heels of her palms into her eyes.

she doesn't remember the last time she had a panic attack this severe, and neither does she know if she'll get over it solus. yearn for a presence beside her devours her brain and she wishes that lando–

lando.

the way her heart seems to squeeze in her chest is almost too animalistic to be normal, and it arrives at the thought of him being unacceptable of the baby. he's barely situated in one place, fuck, he basically travels for a living, and all her mind conjures is how he won't be there when she needs him most. she tries to wish it away, because just thinking about her makes her spiral even more and she knows she cannot survive with a child whose father decides to be absent.

codependency isn't great, that she's thoroughly aware of, but lando's presence brings a wave of comfort braided in the brightness of his smiles and the warmth of his embrace, and it has become her whole lifeline.

yet, the bathroom she's in feels too small and too cold to be anything other than unbearable, and her body feels to weak to remain upright, sliding down to the tiled floor. she sobbing and spluttering so much that lando can hear it from two rooms down, and he rushes into the en suite without a thought in mind.

he crouches down in front of her, hands flush against the skin of her cheeks. he's shaking, fucking terrified out of his wits, and his words are enunciated with a tremble.

"hey, hey, y/n breathe with me," he desperately takes her hands into his, and places it on his own chest, making exaggerated breaths as y/n's start to simmer. it feel like hours stretch by, the air surrounding feels tense with fear and devastation, and by the time she settles, y/n senses nothing but exhaustion.

"what's wrong, love? you're scaring me," lando gently asks, and she struggles to respond, mouth rid of any moisture as if it had been scraped dry. lando takes the initiative to look around in hopes that anything would give him a clue to his girlfriend's break down.

then he freezes.

the white stick lays there, gleaming and glowing like it's fucking sent from heaven, and he feels his heart plummet into the depths of his guts. he knows he can deny it all he wants, but it's undeniable, what he's seeing, yet prays like a grieving mother that what he thinks is not true as his quivering hands reaches for it.

two bold, red lines.

"oh fuck," it punches out of him, every inch of energy disperses like fleeing birds, "you're pregnant?"

it's so small, so timid that he almost doesn't see it, but she nods, and his arms fall like he's been shot and the test leaves his fingers. he swears he's drenched in ice cold water and he remains silent, bound by stunned numbness. his lack of response spurs y/n again, and she begins sobbing, pressing her face into her arms and wiping it furiously. all she thinks is that he doesn't want it, and out of sheer terror, she starts rambling utter shit.

"i can get rid of it, if you want, lando, just please i'm begging you, don't leave me."

he's crying himself now, doesn't know what to feel at the suggestion, but it makes him gag.

"get rid of it if i want to? fucking hell y/n, i'm not a prick like that," he fumbles out, words wet and hardly cohesive, "as long as you want to keep it, i want the baby too."

she looks up at him, eyes so full of hope that he immediately takes her into his arms.

"you sure, lando?" she's still hesitant, burying her head into his chest, and as further reassurance, he kisses her forehead, "as sure as i'll ever be."

#‧₊˚✩彡 planete.writes: ln4 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fic #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 #f1 fic #f1 imagine #formula one x y/n #formula one x you #formula one

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chronically-ghosted · 27 days

Text

fade into you

rating: Explicit (18+)

pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader

word count: 4K

summary: counting down the days until the new baby arrives, you’re already wound to a breaking point. Fortunately, Dieter is as good a husband as he is a father.

warnings: pregnancy, hormonal behavior due to pregnancy, fluffy cute behavior with kids, oral (m!receiving), Dieter is a sensitive king and loves your tummy, brief body insecurity, pregnancy sex, smut, thigh fucking, daddy/mommy dynamic – mostly tongue in cheek, and finally the return of the greatest tag gone far too long from our lives - daddy!dieter

a/n: congrats @burntheedges you are the first prompt for my 1k follower celebration! This was your prompt for Dieter: "Your shirt is inside out." "Can you help me fix that?" This takes place in the same universe as Little Monsters, but you don’t have to have read that one to understand this one. Thank you SO much for sending this in!

🤍Dieter Bravo Masterlist 🤍Masterlist

I wanna melt in I wanna soak through I only wanna move when you move I wanna breathe out when you breathe in then I wanna fade into you

“C’mon – c’mon, just –,” your outstretched toe barely scrapes the end of the pen. You’re sweating – of course, you’re sweating, you’re always sweating these days. You try inching further down on the bed, as far as your aching back will allow, your leg fully extended, stretched so long you know you’re just flirting with a massive cramp –

You manage to snag the pen between your toes but as you bring it forward, the weight of the top slips back – “fuck, no!” and with a clatter, the pen tips backwards out of your grasp and onto the floor. After spending ten minutes trying to a fucking pen that you accidentally put there only after you managed to roll your way off the bed to go to the bathroom for the third time in forty-five minutes, the weight of it all hits you. The massive weight of you sinks back against the pillows, eyes scrunched shut, begging yourself not to cry.

You had all but demanded some time alone to work on the bills the producer wanted you to sort through. It was the last thing on your to-do list before you mentally allowed yourself to start your maternity leave and at this rate, it would be done by the time the nearly-grown baby in your stomach was a walking, talking ten year old. In that weird sixth sense mothers and their unborn children share, you feel your son turn and gently one foot presses against your forearm draped over your massive belly. In any other context, your heart would have been made ten times stronger, fortified by the love of your son.

Right now, it just makes you burst into tears.

You’re crying so hard you don’t hear the back door open, or the rousing chorus of Baby Shark that echoes through the house. If you were listening, you’d hear the squelch of wet flip flops traipsing through the kitchen floor, the song only occasionally broken by giggles and jokes about towel monsters coming to get little girls who drip water all over the living room, and a loud raspberry on soft skin.

He opens the door before you even have time to try to pull in the loud, wailing sob.

“Baby, look at –,”

“Dieter, don’t –,” you snatch up a pillow and shove your face into it, ashamed, embarrassed, and angry all at once. “Don’t look at me like this.”

When he had left you an hour ago, you had your hot tea by the side of the bed and your game face on – one of your sexier faces, if anyone asked him. You swore up and down this was the last thing and then it was smooth-sailing. You loved overworking yourself even while eight months pregnant, so Dieter and your doctor managed to make an agreement with you: all work must be done in bed.

You had your tea, a snack, even a towel wrapped around the headboard so you could pull yourself upright out of the bed to go to the bathroom unassisted while Dieter and Zelle went down to the pool . You, like you so often do, had a fool-proof plan. And to be quite honest, those were Dieter’s favorite kind of plans.

Listening to his ‘you think I can’t do it? watch me, fuck you’ wife and mother of his child (soon to be another) wail like the house was on fire made something inside of him break on a microscopic level. Like his organs were suddenly perforated with a million tiny cuts.

His bottoms still wet from the pool and Zelle’s wet suit quickly soaking the front of his t-shirt, Dieter approaches, his hand squeezing the arch of your foot to let him know he’s there. That did nothing to deter the anguish sobbing or inch the pillow away from your face.

With Zelle on his hip, he slides closer, touching you the whole time until he’s seated right beside you, his hand on your thigh. Your sobbing might only be second to Zelle’s own yelling cry in successfully destroying him from the inside out.

“Baby . . .”

You don’t flinch but he sees your knuckles go white – you’re nearly at the end, but you can’t seem to stop. As Dieter waffles between drawing you into his chest with his free arm or just being there for you while you let it all out, the weight on his hip shifts and a little pudgy hand brushes the back of your knuckles.

“Mama?”

Your sobbing stutters to a halt with a deep hiccup and all at once you go still. Very slowly, the pillow is lowered and your pink, snotty, dribbly face peers up at him. It’s not funny for you, and he knows this and he knows he won’t laugh but he wants nothing more than to pull you in close and kiss off those tears that have been nearly a constant presence in the last two weeks. Instead, his little girl beats him to it.

Zelle wiggles off his hip towards you and you take her in your arms, letting out one more whine as she wraps her tiny arms around your neck. She rubs her little face in your neck and you huff.

“Now, I feel silly,” you blubber. With a small chuckle, Dieter reaches over and gets a few tissues from the bedside table. He hands them over and you try to juggle Zelle and reaching over your swollen tummy to take them.

“C’mere, baby, let Mama have a second.” Zelle folds into his shoulder, her bright, inquisitive eyes never leaving your face as you wipe yourself dry and blow your nose. He rubs your thigh in circles. “You’re not silly. Whatever ever made you break out into deep sobs on a Thursday afternoon in our secluded bedroom is totally normal.”

You give a watery laugh, sniffing as you try to adjust your pillows, Baby Brave Number Two rolling back into your kidneys. He doesn’t kick, he's as unassuming as possible, but he can’t help how he floats.

“I dropped a pen,” you murmur with a sigh. “I just got comfortable after waddling back in from the bathroom and I dropped my pen.”

“Mama mad?” Zelle hides her little face beneath a curtain of hair. Dieter Bravo’s offspring in every conceivable way, Zelle is rarely this timid – only when there’s even but a hint of an implication that she’s in trouble. You’d see those same puppy dog eyes come out of the man with his hand up against her small back more than a dozen times.

“No, baby, I’m not mad.” You shake your head and those wide eyes get even bigger. “I’m just having a lot of feelings and I’m not doing a good job at managing them.”

“Yeah, like remember how you felt on your first day of preschool?” Dieter slides Zelle across his waist so she sits between you two. She glances back between your faces, anxiety and confusion twisting up her little features. “You were mad and sad and scared all at once so you started crying when we dropped you off?” She nods and he tucks a strand of delicate hair over her ear. “But then we had that talk in the car and you felt better. Mama just needs to do that.”

“Talk? Mama talk?”

He smiles at her and pulls her into his chest, smelling her strawberry L’Oreal shampoo, and a peace he’d never known before sinks into his bones. He feels whole with his little girl in his arms.

“Yes, she just needs to talk. Right, Mama?”

He pulls back and watches you visibly swallow. Not a knot of sadness but something else. It’s gone from your eyes by the time Zelle turns back around.

“I’m just really excited for your little brother to get here,” you say with a soft smile, your hand absentmindedly stroking the swell of your stomach where a little foot had been pressed just a few minutes ago. “Aren’t you?”

Zelle nods, smiling, and puts her ear to your stomach. A minute later, Dieter’s wide palm covers yours. He interlaces his fingers with yours and he smiles. The smile that’s been cultivated and cured over half a dozen years together, and recent late nights as new parents. A smile that has never graced a single magazine cover or Instagram reel. A smile that is forever and always will be yours.

“Come on, love bug, it’s bath time.” Dieter swings Zelle up into his arms and nibbles on her neck making her giggle.

“Then dinner time,” you grunt as you inch towards the edge of the bed. You try and swing your legs off the edge but end up nearly toppling over your lowered center of gravity.

“Baby –,” his firm grip steadies you, stops you from rolling into the bedside table. Those lines at the corners of his eyes sharpen for a second as he looks you over, worry all at once endearing and annoying. You hated being coddled but Dieter loved to coddle.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” you can hear how out of breath you sound and you grimace. Dieter doesn’t let go of your arm until you’re firmly planted on the ground next to him and you squeeze his bicep as reassuringly as you possibly can. He loosens his grip, concern wrinkling his forehead, his hand sliding from your arm, to your elbow then over your belly once again. Baby Bravo jostles you where his father’s hand sits.

“See, we’re all okay.”

Your gazes meet at the same time and something softens in his eyes, soothes him and you down to the very beat of your heart. As if in a daze, Dieter’s eyelids flutter half-shut and his eyes slip to your mouth, he puts his hand on your swollen waist as he kisses you – deeply, with an intensity that makes your knees quiver.

“Ew.”

A puff of breath fans your cheeks as Dieter breaks the kiss with a laugh. On his hip, Zelle chews on her little fist, an all-too-familiar glint in her eye.

“You can’t say ‘ew’. You only exist because of kisses like that –,”

“Dieter!”

He shakes his head before kissing Zelle on her little nose. “Tough crowd tonight. But even little sharks need to get a bath before dinner.”

Zelle scrunches up her nose, baring her crooked little teeth, and raises her fingers like claws. “Rawr.”

You hear Dieter chuckle as he walks her down to the bathroom. “Yes, baby, that’s definitely the sound sharks make.”

The bills aggressively shoved to the floor, you are folding the last bit of laundry over the bed after dinner when Dieter saunters in. Still in his trunks and shirt from earlier in the day, a faint pink blush warms his nose and cheeks – which would be gone in a few days, only to be replaced by a gorgeous dark almond color. Dieter Bravo could naturally tan so perfectly it was honestly heart-breaking.

“She’s out?”

“She’s out.” He nods with a sigh. He scratches the back of his head and snags his phone off the bedside table. When he sits down on the edge of the bed, you see the tag of his shirt over the lip of his collar. You muffle your grin and quietly finish with the towels. “The guy who came up with the lyrics ‘Baby Shark, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo’ is either a genius or a madman. Two rounds of that and she’s basically comatose.”

“How do you know it was a man?” You arch your eyebrow at him.

Dieter lifts his head from his phone and smirks at you. He reaches for you and you let him tug you between his legs. He kisses your wrist, your hands curled around his broad shoulders. “That was incredibly sexist of me, darling, can you ever forgive me?”

Dropping his head, he presses a soft kiss to the swell of your stomach, his eyes flicking up to you at the last second, the bottom half of his face hidden. The sight, one you haven’t seen in recent months but one you craved like a drizzle of honey over a bowl of fruit, loosens the tension in your back and liquifies your underwear.

“Dieter?”

“Yes, O Love of My Life?”

“Your shirt is inside out.”

The sultry look in his eyes immediately flickers out and he huffs a laugh, shaking his head and pressing his face into your neck.

“What would I do without you? Can you help me fix that?”

“Mhm hm.”

His back arched, you roll the faintly damp shirt up his spine, careful to take in the notches visible through his skin. You watch in delight as more of that broad back is revealed, more golden skin and freckles. The rim of the collar catches the back of his head so when you finally tug it off him, his hair is scattered in a dozen different directions. It takes nearly all of your willpower not to moan at the site.

“Or . . .” you make a deliberate show of dropping the shirt and Dieter goes honey-eyed again.

“Yeah?” He tilts his head up, wraps his massive hands around the back of your thighs, squeezing you above the backs of your knees, then higher up, his fingers pressing into your inner thigh muscles, and finally resting on your ass.

You nod and gently push him back. He goes without being told twice. “I want to thank you for taking Zelle to let me work today.”

His eyes go wide, his elbows locked with his arms set apart behind him, when you go onto your knees in front of him.

“B-baby, your back –,”

“Then give me a pillow, Dieter.”

He nearly launches himself back to snag a pillow by the headboard.

“My back is one thing, but I’m more worried about the knot of your trunks.”

Dieter busies himself with the drawstring of his shorts, his movements frantic, giving you a chance to muffle a grunt as you ease the pillow underneath your knees. He’s right, of course, but fuck if you couldn’t get those goddamn bills done, the least you could blow your husband until he popped off in your mouth.

“Love, you really don’t have to do this.” You glance up at him and despite the evident tent in his swim trunks, his wide eager eyes, he will do everything in his power to make these last few weeks even somewhat bearable.

With a smile, you lean forward and squeeze his knees. “I know. And honestly, I don’t know how long I’ll last, but I wanna try. Is that okay?”

An awe-struck grin splits his lips apart and he laughs, a high-pitched sound and breathless. “How long you’re gonna last? Been half-hard all day since you put on those leggings this morning.”

“Well, you were so good with Zelle today, talking to her about feelings, it made me kinda hot and bothered so I feel especially grateful.”

You lean forward, fingers plucking at the damp strings and out of the corner of your eye you see his knuckles go white against the sheets. You tug and he helps you by lifting his hips.

“S-so that’s what that look w-was.” He swallows roughly as you take him in your hand, stroking him gently at first. He squeezes his eyes shut – god, could you really make him come with just a few touches? “I’m j-just – fuck – doing my part.”

You kiss along his length and his shoulders lock up as his breathing quickens. You suck the spit in your mouth before dropping a string of drool right on the head and Dieter’s groan elongates, the muscles of his neck tense.

“Well, Mommy likes it when Daddy does a good job.”

Tongue out and jaw loose, you swallow him down nearly to the base. Maybe you’re biased because you married the himbo attached to it, but Dieter’s cock is one of the – if not the – very best cocks you’ve ever seen in your life. Thick without being overwhelmingly long and always oozing precum the instant you breathe on it. A slick vein that has him whimpering with a single lick.

“Fuck, Mama, you’re so fucking good at this.” Dieter’s hand floats to the crown of your head, his nails scratching your scalp, the weight of his palm soothing as it follows the motions of your head. With every little sigh he makes, your pussy squeezes with every bob of your head. Dieter’s sensitivity has always been a near drug for you, a chemical reaction that floods your brain, branding those noises on the lining of your skull as he drips down the back of your throat. You meet his hot gaze just as you drag your mouth up and nearly off him, only to kitten-lick the lip of his head and he clamps his eyes shut, shuddering.

When you hear his heel kick the ground beside you, his chest heaving and chin tilted up, you drop your mouth down to his base – years of taking him training you to smother your gag-reflex – and with hollowed cheeks, suck him all the way up to the tip. His wiry curls smell like chlorine and musk.

Dieter jerks, his hand flying to your shoulder as if to pry you off him.

“Mhmm – baby, p-please – shit,” he swallows and you pop off him, his cock red and shiny from your spit. Dieter is panting, soft center fluttering, flush high in his throat. Your underwear sticks to you as you realize he very nearly came in your mouth without warning. Call it being a masochist but you loved making him come before either of you realized what was happening.

“Get off your fucking knees and come here –,” he yanks you into his naked lap and you go, giggling as he palms your ass and kissing you so hard you tilt back. He bites your bottom lip and you keen. “Can’t believe I let my pregnant wife fucking suck me off like that when she knows I worship that little pussy.”

He cups you through your leggings and the dampness soaking through the fabric sends a moan through both of you. Dieter’s jaw goes lax as he rubs his thick fingers across your folds, the material catching and dragging, and you whimper – and not in a way he knows means a good thing. His gaze floods with worry and you shake your head – the instant the doctor gives the go-ahead you’re gonna have him rail you through a bedpost – “It’s okay. I’m just sore, baby. Last night –,”

He tsks, frowning. “I told you I was being too rough.”

“I asked for it. Also, so not the time for an ‘I told you so’. Help me stand up.”

With his hands on your hips, he eases you off of his lap and onto your feet. You lift up your exasperatedly large shirt, the hemline of which has been steadily shrinking as you grow, and clip off your bra. Dieter stares, mouth open, as you slip your leggings and your sticky underwear off your round hips and to the floor. With your second baby, you’d managed to quell the looming anxiety about your body changing but with a boy, you just feel ten times your normal size, bigger than you did with Zelle. Your heart hitches in your chest as Dieter’s eyes roam from your shoulders to your swollen tits, your belly, your thighs, and you’d be happy if he just thought you were –

“Gorgeous, baby, just fucking gorgeous.” He stands and kisses you without another word, his thumbs on your jaw tilting your mouth into his. He palms your breast, hard and weighed with milk. He approaches you with a level of sensuality that makes your eyes roll back in your head and your knees shake. How can he touch you like that when you’re already filled to the brim?

“How do you need it, baby?”

The tension that had been locking down the muscles in your back, your hips, since you woke up this morning, only heightened over those stupid fucking bills and feeling incredibly sorry for yourself, cracks at his words. Without your hands on his chest and his big hands cradling your jaw, you’re sure you would have melted to the floor. You lick your bottom lip, eyes scrunched tightly to clear the sudden tightness behind them.

“On my side, but between my thighs?”

His eyes are all heat, all dark wanting, but he hits you in the knees with one of his crooked grins. “Yeah, you’re gonna let Daddy fuck your thighs?” Total reverence, filth that has your toes curling coming as easy to him as it is to breathe.

“Please.”

He stands back at a distance, watching with half-set eyes as you climb into bed and peel back the covers. As you settle, Dieter flicks off the overhead light, and then the lamp by your bedside. His body lined in dark shadows and the cool touch of the moonlight, you track him as he rounds the bed, sliding in behind you in bed, the covers up to his shoulders. There’s a breath of silence, of anticipation, of a yearning so deep your skin flushes with goosebumps at his proximity. You know he’s there, you watched him dip on the other side of the bed, but a spark of panic tightens your lungs, you want to reach back for him, your baby unmoored as you are, trembling and desperate for the calming touch of the father –

He kisses you over your shoulder, broad, warm hand starting at your hip, then scooping down around your naked bottom to settle on your belly and from where his hand sits, you radiate with heat. Melting and growing sticky like tree sap, you drip for him, slick smearing across your thighs with no material to soak you up. His mouth is warm, the short hairs of his mustache numbing your upper lip, the taste of the red wine from dinner light against the back of his tongue.

When he cups you again, finds the sticky sap gathered in your curls and leaking onto your thighs, he breaks the kiss with a grunt and presses his teeth into your shoulder, his cock fully present against your back. You nip his bottom lip with your thumbnail, pleased beyond words at his reaction.

“I love you.”

That’s not what you thought he was going to say. He lifts his furrowed brow, eyes dark but struck with such earnestness, you feel your heartbeat in your ears. He sucks the mark his teeth made on your shoulder, his hips hitching closer, turning his weight over you, before dropping closer to kiss you again.

“How did I get so fucking lucky with you, hm?” He asks of no one. Delicately, he guides your knee back over his hip, his breath warm across the curve of your shoulder, his other hand pressing gently on the back of your neck. He would never, ever choke you in this state, but fuck you missed it. You missed it when Dieter loses himself entirely in you.

The head of his cock taps the wet triangle of your thighs and you fist the pillow beneath your head. He shuffles closer and you can feel his chest trembling with restraint.

“Tell me if it hurts,” he says in one breath. You know if you look over your shoulder, he’s fixated on watching you take his cock. Oddly enough, his ADHD always seemed to clear out during sex. “Do– do you need my fingers – a-a toy to prep you, ‘cause I can–,”

“Dieter, please.”

He exhales and, with a slow thrust that smears your arousal all over his spit-licked cock, you finally feel relief. The noise that leaves your throat is unrecognizable. That ruddy tip kisses your clit and the moan that tears out of you is nearly a scream.

A wide palm claps over your mouth, a breathy giggle falling down your back.

“Baby,” low, strained, barely audible over the sounds of your slickness sucking your thighs together around Dieter’s cock. “If you wake up that child before I’m balls deep in you, I will never forgive you.”

Using his hand as leverage, he pulls you back against him, pressing himself even further between your soaked lips, prodding your clit so gently it sends sparks up your spine and you come, a small wave, that somehow has you leaking more onto his cock.

“Ah – oh my god – did you just –?”

You whine and wrap your hand up into his hair, and finally he’s skin to skin up your back. His hips jolt you forward, the hard smack loud and sloppy in the mess between your thighs. Dieter leans over you and nips at your earlobe, his thrusts faster now, each one catching your clit with just enough time apart to send you ratcheting higher.

“That’s so good, Dieter, you’re doing so good –,”

A sharp intake of breath, high through a vocal shudder, and he drops down onto his shoulder against the pillow, looping his arm around your chest, a wide palm cupping your sensitive breast. Skin to skin, he is a wall of heat behind you, his hands both steadying you and begging you for more against your hip. It’s moments like these, when he’s swallowing up every sense you’re still in control of, that you really believe your soul lives in two bodies.

He tucks his lips near your ear and your skin tingles. “Can I touch your clit, or does that hurt?”

“Just put your hand –,”

You take him by the wrist from the curve of your waist, where he grips you tight, fingers pocketing your flesh, and slide him down between your legs.

“That’s it, baby, take what you need.”

Between the consistent bouncing of his cock between your pussy lips and the heat of his four fingers, stocky and thick, you have nowhere to go but up, your own hips thrust back aimlessly, bliss hurling towards you, until it breaks – and you whine, squeeze Dieter’s hand so hard, you think you hear a bone pop.

Wetness floods your thighs and, half a dozen strokes later, Dieter spills with a groan, white cream splattering against the low curve of your belly and onto the sheets. Covered in literal spend, exhaustion soaks your bones, gasping for air and never finding enough. You lie together, your bodies buzzing, blood roaring loud beneath your skin, until Dieter tilts his weight off you – you didn’t even realize he had nearly smothered you – and his cock slides out from between your numb legs, his grip loosening from your breast and his hand flopping down into the sheets. His skin is pink from exertion.

You grin and roll over as gracefully as you can, out of breath and the size of a house.

“An unexpected bonus,” you sigh, ringing your belly button with your finger, “I think we rocked him to sleep.”

Dieter huffs a laugh as he pushes a handful of damp curls off his sweaty forehead and his other arm curls around your shoulders. He rests his other palm over your fingers on your belly.

“Glad I could tire all three of us out.” You giggle into his shoulder. Both of you are sticky hot, sweltering in a fog of your own mess, and you can feel sleep tugging at the corners of your eyes. Humming, you curl up closer to him, your knee over his hip, tucking your nose into his neck as his fingers absently play with strands of your hair.

“I meant what I said, you know that right?”

Your body as supple as warm wax, eyes melting shut, you nod vaguely. “Mhmm hmm.”

“I love you, baby. Thank you, for everything.”

You return the sentiment, the words dribbling out of your mouth as sleep overwhelms you.

Later, when you wake up in the early blue hours of the morning, rain pattering against the glass, and you feel something cool and soft against your belly, you stir, reaching for him.

“Hush, baby, stay still for me.” He hums somewhere above you. You nod, on the precipice of sleep again. “You gave me the world, I’m just returning the favor.”

Later still, when you awake to a soggy light, Dieter and Zelle down the hall excitedly picking out which movies to watch on this designated Stay on the Couch day, you roll onto your back and realize he’s painted a globe onto your stomach.

A foot inside you presses up against Chile and you grin into space, content beyond your wildest dreams.

#dieter bravo #daddy dieter #gonna make this an official tag if its the last thing i do #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x oc #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfic #the bubble fanfic #the bubble

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mikeysw1fey · 10 months

Text

i trust you

pairing: jenna ortega x female reader

warnings: bitch jenna for a min there, sad reader, happy ending (yay)

Humming along to the music in the kitchen whilst Jenna’s being Jenna and re reading her scripts on the couch is perfection.

I cook dinner, her favourite of course and she works, a perfect combo. We’re at peace, both existing in one another’s space whilst doing our own things.

But the peace didn’t last.

“Baby, do you wanna eat dinner at the table?” I ask finally plating the food and grabbing the cutlery as Jenna doesn’t reply.

“Jen?” I frown looking over my shoulder at the woman who sighs and glances up from her paper. “Look I’m busy ok? Can you please just eat and I don’t know go be loud in the other room?”

She doesn’t mean to be rude I don’t think. I mean she’s not a rude person. But that comment hurt.

“Oh uh, yeah. Sorry.” I reply, taken aback by her harsh sentence. Jenna doesn’t even reply, her eyes trained on the sheets of paper scattered before her.

Biting my lip, I debate my next move. Hesitantly I grab her dinner, walking over and placing it down in front of her, just beside the paper pile. “Here’s your dinner.” I try to smile, maybe lighten the mood.

“Are you kidding me.” She groans and throws the script in her hand on the table, the script edge managing to fall against the gravy that had dropped down the side of the plate.

“Fuck, do you see what you’ve done?” She snaps, her eyes raging as she stands up and glares at me. I don’t reply, backing away slightly. “Jenna I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.” My voice seems to go in one ear and out the other as she breathes heavily as if trying not to yell.

“I have to have this done by monday. It’s fucking saturday and I have like two out of three hundred lines memorised. Can you go sit your annoying ass down somewhere else and stop fucking with my work.” She rages, hands clenched at her sides as she stalks up to me, finger poking me hard in the chest.

My eyes tear up while the rest of my body shuts down, the situation becoming much like ones I had purposely blocked from my memories.

Jenna’s exasperated groan snaps me back to reality as I rush out the living room heading straight towards the bathroom and locking the door with a snap before dropping to the floor.

Stifled sobs fall from my mouth as I shake my head, embarrassed at the stupidity of my breakdown. With shaking hands I paw at my eyes trying to stop the tears from flowing.

“Baby? Are you in there?” Jenna’s voice is soft, a contrast to her voice merely minutes ago as she calls through the bathroom door.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna have a shower.” I choke on my words slightly, failing my attempt to sound as if her actions hadn’t bothered me. “Baby, please, I know your not having a shower. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. Can you open the door?” Jenna’s voice is strained and I can almost hear the tears forming in her own eyes.

My fingers ghost over the lock of the door debating whether to open it or not as Jenna’s voice continues to beg. Using my hands to wipe the rest of my tears I switch the lock, the door swinging open almost instantly.

Jenna’s face looks exhausted, dark bags hang under her eyes, even more visible as a few tears stream down her cheeks. “Please forgive me, I didn’t mean to yell or hurt you, I’m so overworked and I know that’s not an excuse but it just killed me today.” She steps forwards causing me to step back, her face falling as she notices my movements.

I shrug not looking her in the eye, my hands beginning to shake once again. Jenna stammers slightly, unsure of what to say before inhaling deeply. “Can I touch you?” She whispers, her hands outstretched towards me.

I glance up at her, eyes watering slightly. “Jenna…” I trail off not moving forward to take her hand and not stepping away from her either. Her brown eyes widen as her head shakes vigorously. “Are you going to leave? Please don’t leave. Baby, I swear to you I’ll never lay my hands on you again, I swear on my life. I- I can sleep on the couch if you want or I’ll go to my parents or something-“ She gestures incoherently, tears falling down her face as she begs.

Silence fills the bathroom for a minute, my heart shattering at the sight of her pleading figure. “I’m not going anywhere but you hurt me Jenna.” I sigh staring at the tiled floor. Her black socks fall into my view as she gently reaches for my hands, a slight glimmer of hope appearing in her eyes as I don’t attempt to pull away. “I know I did baby. And I’ll always hold that guilt but I can promise you that it won’t happen again no matter how overworked I am.” She whispers whilst rubbing her thumb over the back of my hand.

“I trust you.” I reply after a moment of silence finally looking into her eyes.

Her smile widens as her hands move to my cheeks, gently wiping away the tears that settle there. “I love you so much, I’m so sorry baby.” Her whispers are soft as she apologises once again.

I nod, my own hands falling on her face as mirror her actions. “Stop crying.” I chuckle as her tears continue to flow. Jenna laughs with me. “I’m sorry.” She half sobs half chuckles causing my eyes to roll playfully. “If you say that again I swear.” I lean forward to kiss her lips, her eyes fluttering closed at the contact.

“Come on bedroom time.” Jenna nods as I pull away and direct her to our room.

“You need to sleep, actually, we both need to sleep.” I order firmly, gently pushing her off me and onto the bed.

Pulling back the sheets, I lay down, Jenna moving on top of me as she begins to kiss my chest. “I poked you. I’ll never do that again. I swear on my life baby.” She whispers gazing up at me as my hand finds comfort in her dark brown locks. “I trust you.” I whisper in reply which causes her to smile slightly before moving her head back to rest just under my chin.

“I love you.” She sighs tightening the grip on my waist. I nod, grazing her back with my nails. “I know you do baby, and I love you too.”

#wlw post #lesbian #jenna ortega #jenna x reader #jenna ortega x reader #fluff #angst #scream

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milaisreading · 21 days

Note

Your isagi sister!yn and sae is soo cute!! Image them being turned into toddlers and toddler isagi sister!yn cries whenever you try to take her away from Yoichi and toddler Sae bites anyone that tries to take him away from isagi sister!yn

🌱🩷: Hiii! Sorry it took this long to do the request! Hope this is fine and thank u for requesting!

Warnings: Reader uses she/her. Requests are open.

⚽️Blue lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

Rin didn't know who or what he had pissed off to go through whatever this was. The morning was very normal, in his opinion. He woke up, exercised, did his bed, did his usual routine in the bathroom, and then went to get breakfast. Now, usually he would wake up his brother to get food with him, but he decided to let him sleep in since he arrived pretty late from Spain last night. But, as the clock hit 12, Rin grew worried and decided to check up on the older Itoshi. The room itself looked normal, as you would expect the room of someone who just arrived from a long flight to look like, but what wasn't normal was the person he saw on the bed.

'A... Is that my brother?!' Rin' eyes widened in shock as he looked at the 3-year-old Sae sleeping soundly on the bed.

'What the hell happened here?!'

And the rest that happened Rin could only remember in a daze. He remembered getting a call from Yoichi, saying there was something off with his sister as well. So, the younger Itoshi did whatever he could think of in that moment. He packed up his brother into some old clothes their mom kept for memory's sake and made his way to the Isagi house as fast as possible. Sae, as Rin could observe, was grumpy the whole way and really looked like he was plotting murder. Rin was a little worried about the older Itoshi, but knew his brother well enough that he will behave.

As they arrived at the Isagi house, Rin knocked on the door and waited while holding Sae in a secure manner.

"Thank God you are here! Sis turned- Sae as well?!" Rin's eyes widened as soon as Yoichi opened the door. In his arms was a toddler version of his sister, blinking at both Sae and him while holding a plushie of a spiny lobster.

It looked like the girl could recognize them, but was too shy to say or do anything. Well, thank God Sae was there for those things. The boy's eyes widened as his face turned red while looking at her.

"Mine." Sae said as he made grabby hands towards the girl, while also trying to get out of Rin's grip.

"Hey! No! Stop it!" Rin yelled as he glared down at Sae.

"No! Mine! Gimme!!"

Yoichi flinched at their loudness and quickly covered his sister's ear and hugged her closer.

"Please stop yelling. Sis is really sensitive to loud noises. You will make her cry."

Rin shut up and so did Sae, who immediately looked at the girl. (Y/n) stared at them both with wide eyes as a few tears slid down her face.

"Yochan..." She sobbed and grabbed her brother's shirt to comfort herself.

"Just come inside." Yoichi said as he started comforting his sister. Sae's eyes never left the girl, and he could feel his heart beating faster as he looked more at her.

"Mine..."

Eventually the girl had calmed down and the two were able to leave their siblings on the floor to play while they tried to figure out how to fix all of this.

"Boo..." (Y/n) smiled as she poked Sae's cheek with her lobster plushie. The redhead started blushing and put his hand on the spot. (Y/n) started giggling at his reaction, which caused the boy to get more embarrassed.

"I will go and get something to drink..." (Y/n) looked over at Yoichi as he for up from the couch.

"Yochan." She quickly called out as the boy turned to look at his older... well, now little sister.

"I will be back in a minute." Yoichi smiled calmly and walked away, leaving the girl looking at his back in sadness. Sae pouted that her attention wasn't on him anyone and quickly took the abandoned lobster and pressed it against her cheek.

"Boop." Sae giggled as (Y/n) looked at him in surprise, blushing just like Sae did previously.

--------

Now, Yoichi didn't expect much from his day... especially not being glared at by a toddler-sized Sae while his sister was hugging and crying for him not to leave her alone. The boy looked back down at his sister and put a hand on her head, causing her to look up at him.

"I just need to go to the bathroom-"

"No!"

"I will be back in a minute-"

"No!"

"Sae will keep you company-"

"NO!"

Yoichi sighed as he felt the redhead kick his leg.

"What is going on here?" Rin raised an eyebrow as he walked into the living room and saw the chaos that unfolded in it.

"Sis won't let me go into the bathroom."

Yoichi pointed at the crying girl, then at Sae, who tried to get onto the coach where (Y/n) was.

"And he is just mad at me."

Rin blinked a few times before sighing in frustration.

"Hold up. Kids their age can be easily distracted." The Itoshi said while going to grab his phone. Yoichi let out a defeated sigh while helping Sae onto the couch, the other Itoshi quickly hugging (Y/n) when he got close enough.

'He is quite attached to her... even more as kids now.' Yoichi thought as he witnessed Sae's actions as well as his glare.

"Here, (Y/n), look at this." Rin's voice caused her to look over and loosen up her grip on Yoichi. The loud music as well as colors coming from Rin's phone caused the girl to look over in confusion. Soon after, she smiled and loosened up her grip around Yoichi. Sae sighed and hugged her tighter while (Y/n) kept her attention on the phone.

Yoichi used this moment and got away from the toddlers. Rin was happy it had worked... for about 2 minutes, because (Y/n) quickly looked over to the side Yoichi was previously. The Itoshi's eyes slowly widened when he saw her smile drop and eyes slowly water.

"Wait- No!"

"Yochan!!" She started crying loudly as Rin groaned and looked over at Sae, who sported a glare on his face.

-------

"Play." Sae said, excitedly looking at (Y/n) as he held a football in front of himself. The said girl was sat on Yoichi's lap and frowned while shaking her head. Sae pouted and tried to walk closer to grab her and mover her away from Yoichi, but the girl just hugged her brother tightly and shook her head.

"No!"

Yoichi groaned silently as he felt Sae's glare on his form.

'Can't believe toddler Sae hates me now... I hope he forgets this when turns back to normal.' He thought and patted his sister's head, causing her to look up at him.

"How about you go and play with Sae? I will stay here and you can-"

"Noo!" She cried out and Yoichi quickly jumped in to save the situation.

"It's ok! You don't have to! We can cuddle for the rest of the day instead." Yoichi laughed nervously as (Y/n) calmed down and smiled, nodding her head in excitement.

Yoichi would have rejoiced in the fact that he had calmed her down, if it wasn't for the fact that Sae stomped on his foot in anger.

------

"Hate him." Rin turned to look at his moody brother.

"Who?"

Sae looked up and pointed in Yoichi's direction, who was busy playing with (Y/n).

"Is it because she prefers him over you-"

Rin quickly cut himself off when Sae sent him an icy glare.

"Look, Sae, she doesn't like Yoichi more than you... she just wants to spend some time with her brother." Rin started softly, causing Sae to look over at him.

"You are still her number 1, you know." He finished as Sae's face lit up at those words.

The Itoshis turned to look at Yoichi and (Y/n) again, only to see her give her brother a pack on the cheek. Rin sighed in defeat when he saw Sae's glare again.

'Back to square 1....'

#bllk #blue lock anime #blue lock manga #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock scenarios #blue lock #isagi's sister #itoshi sae #bllk sae #blue lock sae #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae x y/n

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strawberrysturniolo · 3 months

Note

chris driving for the first time but not because he wants to—it’s because you’re in danger

let’s say nick and matt are not in the hose for whatever reason. you find yourself attending a party you have no business going to in some shady part of la, even after chris told you not to go there

i told you so // chris sturniolo

summary: you ignore your boyfriends concerns and have a night of your own, causing him to have to take his brothers car and drive to get you without his license

I fucked up.

That argument that Chris and I had last week, it’s caught up to me now.

“It’s in a bad part of town!” he yelled, running his hands through his hair. “You don’t know LA well enough yet! You just got here!”

“I’m a grown adult!” I defended myself. “Why can’t you just let me go!”

“I’m not letting you go without me! I have to work. You don’t even know those people!”

“I’m trying to make friends, Chris!” I shouted, a pain in my throat giving me the signal that tears were coming next. Do not cry. “I just want to have friends out here.”

“Baby,” he said as he put his hands on my shoulders. “There will be plenty of opportunities to make friends. Just listen to me this once.”

I shake my head. “I need to do this. I need to go by myself and make friends. I need to go without you and be comfortable there by myself.”

Chris looked deep into my eyes, debating continuing this argument. He sighed, then said, “Fine. But if anything happens, you call me immediately and I’ll have someone get you. And then I’m gonna say I told you so.”

Now here I am at this party, taking far too many drinks from people who keep saying we’re going to get along well. Invitations are flying at me like crazy, and while that seemed great at first, now I feel this expectation to satisfy all of these people, accepting drinks left and right because I don’t want to be the loser who said no.

Now I can’t stand up without feeling like I’m going to explode and vomit.

Another cup is passed to me, and without even looking up at who is there, I stare at the cup and shake my head, declining it.

“One more,” they insist.

“I’m okay,” I assure them. “I don’t… I don’t feel good…”

“Come with me, I’ll take care of you.”

For a second I almost give in. I almost think they have their best interest. That’s until I watch a sinister grin take over their face.

I need Chris.

I need him now.

I stumble into the bathroom, locking myself in a stall. I kneel to the floor and pray that if I throw up, it’ll cure me. I know that’s not true.

I dig my phone out of my pocket, my eyes swirling. The nausea creeps in on me as I search for my boyfriends name in my phone.

He answers on the second ring, like he was waiting for my call. Like he knew this would happen.

“Baby.”

“I need someone,” I cry out, skipping over a greeting.

I hear a loud sigh from his end, not one of annoyance, but one that shows that he’s disappointed.

“I fucking told-“

“Stop!” I choke on a sob. “I fucking get it! You know everything, don’t you! That’s not the point. I’m in the bathroom because I’m sick and this guy is waiting for me outside. Please just send someone here. I’m begging you. Just don’t say I told you so. I wanted to do something good for myself tonight. I thought this would be fine.”

“Okay,” he says. “Give me 30 minutes. Keep your phone on you and don’t turn your location off. Don’t leave the bathroom either.”

Chris’ POV

I told her so.

I knew this would happen, but I was busy in meetings at home to go to the event with her. I knew she shouldn’t have gone alone, but there wasn’t anyone who could attend at her side, and she was so adamant on going alone so she could make friends.

I know it’s sad, but it was also fucking dangerous, and I told her that from the start.

I check the locations of my brothers, knowing they’re both doing work. Today was designated for us all to work on our personal projects. I had Fresh Love meetings happening over Zoom, Matt was picked up and taken to photoshoots, and after doing some interviews, Nick went to a friends.

They’re also on opposite sides of the city, and there’s no way they could get to her in time.

Luckily my last meeting ended, and I could order an Uber, but with LA traffic, it would take me an hour to get to her.

Fuck it.

I find myself digging around in Matt’s room, searching for the spare key to his car. I find it after a few minutes, and I’m sure he’ll have a fit about me going through his things, but I don’t give a damn right now.

I don’t have my license yet. I’ve been sitting on my permit for a few years. I was planning on getting it soon so I didn’t have to have Matt drive me on dates, but now I know I can’t sit around and wait any longer. If she needs to be rescued, I need to be there for her.

I sit in the drivers seat of the car, turning the engine on, and feeling a wave of nerves take over me. I have no problem with driving. The issue is that I’ll be fucked if I get caught without my license.

Just think about her.

Seconds later I’m flying down the street, white knuckling the steering wheel as I track down her location.

I drive in complete silence, trying to focus. She’s probably scared right now, and I had the nerve to bitch at her.

Guilt takes over me as I complete the drive. I pull into a random spot on the street and run inside, heading for the women’s bathroom. Girls waiting outside the door curse at me for cutting in front of them, also saying that it’s not for me to use. I ignore them all.

“Babe, it’s me.”

I watch one of the doors swing open slowly, my girlfriend dragging herself out.

My heart sinks. She’s drunk, confused, scared, and there’s makeup stains on her face.

“Is he still out there?” she asks, fear lacing her voice.

I shake my head as I wrap my arms around her. “No, baby. No one’s outside other than some girls mad that I came in here.”

She breaks down in my arms. I squeeze her tighter and kiss the top of her head.

“You were right.”

“Shh,” I hush her, swaying her enough to calm her, but not enough to make her dizzy or sick. “Let’s just get you home baby.”

tag list: @freshloveforthefit @lacysturniolo @mattitties @floofparker @javalakers @creamoncreamoncream2 @heebiejeebiezz @sturnswrites @runupthathillgirl @gdsvhtwa @666hellokitty420 @runupthathillgirl @oliviasturniolo21 @keira324 @sstvrnioloo @sturnitup @sturnsvoid @theyluv-meee @therewilljustbereputationts13 @ilovedasturniolos @dancemomsfanee @rootbeerworshiper @sturn3ol0 @swaggygirlboss123 @lustfulslxt

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo

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narumi-gens · 9 months

Text

Drunk Mind, Sober Heart

Miya Atsumu x gn!Reader

summary: They say that drunk words are sober thoughts. Unfortunately for you, that means Atsumu is about to find out about your big, embarrassing secret.

warnings: pure fluff, reader is a drunk mess, mention of vomiting and alcohol, husband!atsumu, established relationship, you and atsumu are simps for each other

notes: we’re back on the haikyuu train! I’m actually not sure if I like this but just wanted to get it out of my wips since it was already 75% written.

words: 1.2k

minors, ageless, and blank blogs do not interact

Atsumu hadn’t left you alone for long, just long enough to grab his phone charger from the nightstand. He was gone for a minute, maybe two. What could go wrong in a minute?

Apparently a lot.

You’re still in the same spot that he left you. You’re still curled up on the bathroom floor next to the toilet. You’re still clutching tightly onto the pillow he gave you to keep you from being too uncomfortable on the hard tile.

But when he left, you were completely passed out, drunkenly snoring and giving him a short break from “rubbing your back and making sure that you’re throwing up in the toilet and not on the floor” duty.

Now, you’re sobbing loudly into your pillow as you lay in a puddle of water, having knocked over the uncapped bottle he had set aside for you.

The sight instantly has him panicking, dropping his charger onto the counter and kneeling down next to you in the puddle. He picks up the bottle and sets it aside, not that doing so is much use considering most of the water is now on the bathroom floor.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he tries to gently shush you. “What’s wrong? Do ya gotta puke again?”

It seems to be the wrong question to ask because it only has you crying harder.

“Baby, it’s okay,” he assures you, running his hand soothingly up and down your side.

“S’not!” you wail and Atsumu finds himself impressed by his own sense of hearing to have been able to comprehend what you’re saying through your sobs.

“Yeah, it is. C’mon, it’s alright,” he says, still doing his best to try and talk you down. “What’s wrong? Let me help.”

“No!” you continue to protest, burying your face even further into your pillow. Your sobs have devolved into loud, pathetic hiccups. “Don’t wanna tell you. S’embarrassing…”

“Ya don’t gotta feel embarrassed!” he says. “At least ya puked in the bushes and not in the Uber. Yer ahead of me on that one.”

“No! S’not that!” you argue, looking up from your pillow to give him a pitiful glare that makes you look like an angry kitten. Atsumu is overcome with the urge to grab his phone so he can take a picture but knows that it would send you into another fit of sobs.

“Then what is it?” he asks patiently and you flop onto your back, your head resting on your pillow as you frown at the ceiling.

“M’embarrassed,” you sniffle, tears continuing to leak from your eyes.

“Baby, about what?”

Your features scrunch together unattractively before you cover your face with your hands.

“I’m so in love with you that it’s embarrassing!” you cry, your voice muffled, and Atsumu is at a loss at your…confession. It takes a moment before he knows how to respond.

“…we’ve been married fer two years,” he says slowly, his eyebrows furrowing together. “I would hope ya love me.”

“You don’t get it!” you whine, dropping your hands and doing your best to sit up and face him, although you end up needing to rest your entire weight on the toilet. “It’s like I have this huuuuge crush on you.”

He can feel the grin threatening to break out across his lips and quickly bites down on the inside of his cheek before it can. Instead, he reaches out a hand to affectionately play with the ends of your hair only for you to weakly slap him away.

“Sometimes when you send me a text saying you love me, I squeal into a pillow,” you softly tell him through sniffles, big fat tears rolling down your cheeks. “And sometimes I just look through my pictures of you and get all flustered.”

The grin he was trying so hard to hold back begins to peek through and he has to slap a hand over his mouth to hide it. Thankfully, you’re too drunk to notice.

“And it’s so embarrassing to be such a mess in front of my crush,” you pout before wiping your messy face with the back of your wrist, not that it really does any good.

“Ya don’t gotta feel embarrassed about any of it,” he repeats with a fond look. “If anything, this makes me love ya even more.”

Your expression finally seems to soften, your drunken angst beginning to fade into something much more shy.

“Really?” you ask through another sniffle.

“Yeah, I promised to love ya in sickness and in health, didn’t I?” he smiles and you giggle.

But before he can make a dumb joke about drunkenness being the worst kind of sickness out there, a look that he’s become only too familiar with over the last few hours crosses your face. You rush to turn away from him and he’s back on “rubbing your back and making sure that you’re throwing up in the toilet and not on the floor” duty.

The next morning sees you doing better, but not by much. The lights in the apartment are all off and the blinds on all of the windows are closed. The only source of light comes from the tv, which is quietly playing some trashy reality show that’s ostensibly about selling real estate but is actually about who’s sleeping with the owner of the brokerage.

The duvet from your bed is wrapped around you like a burrito as you’re laid out pathetically on the couch with a sports drink clutched tightly in your grip like a lifeline. You’re grateful that Atsumu keeps so many of them in the refrigerator and you swear to yourself that you won’t make fun of him anymore for how much space they take up.

You’re roused from wallowing over your pitiful state when you hear the front door opening and you slouch further into the couch. But when Atsumu finally appears around the corner, your face lights up as you see that he’s proudly holding up a takeout bag coated in grease stains.

“I got ya just what the doctor prescribed,” he grins and you sit up as best you can with the blanket wrapped so tightly around you.

“Oh, you’re a godsend,” you moan as you grab the bag from his hands. You open it and happily inhale the scent of the burger and fries inside.

He preens at your praise and lifts your legs so that he can sit down beside you before setting them down in his lap. You’re too busy shoveling the fries into your mouth to even care. But after a few minutes, you feel his gaze on you.

When you look up, you freeze at the sight of him watching you with big heart eyes and a wide, dopey grin.

“What?” you ask him through an unattractive mouthful of half-eaten fries.

“Nothin’,” he shrugs. However, the look on his face says anything but and your eyes narrow suspiciously. “Just, I heard from a little birdie that ya got a pretty big crush.”

Your hand pauses in mid-air, halfway to shoving another handful of fries into your already full mouth. Atsumu’s grin grows wider at your reaction.

“Y’know, I got a pretty big crush too.”

All you can do is mutter in embarrassment what he thinks is, “shut up,” but sounds like “shha amph,” as you refuse to meet his gaze and Atsumu feels his crush on you growing bigger, even as he laughs obnoxiously in your face.

#tw vomit #tw alcohol #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #mel writes #drunk mind sober heart

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cowboydisaster · 8 months

Note

could you write a fic about simon and a reader who is going through withdrawals? Sorry if that's not real specific, you can take it in what ever direction you please. Thank you

Hope

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem! reader word count: 2k summary: Simon helps you get through withdrawals, offering you hope in the darkest point of your life. a/n: heed the warnings please!!!! I cried a good bit while writing this. You're never alone my friends, and there is always hope. Always. (p.s. there is a mention of wanting children in this fic, so keep that in mind. p.p.s why does tumblr destroy my image quality, it makes me sad.) warnings: opioid addiction, withdrawals, addiction, emetophobia, illness masterlist

"Si-Simon, I can't do this. I'm n-not strong enough." You whimper, clammy hands gripping onto his shirt with every pathetic ounce of strength that you can muster. Your voice is hoarse, throat thick with mucus and body covered in a stale cold sweat that soaks through your oversized t-shirt. Simon has never seen you so weak, so frail in his arms.

He's seen you take down men twice your size, clear rooms with more than ten enemies. You've faced countless opponents, broken through endless physical and mental barriers, but in the end, the one thing you couldn't defeat was the pills.

If you'd known you were trading your life away when you were handed the bottle, you never would have taken it in the first place.

"For the pain." The doctor had said, "Just until this gunshot wound clears up."

Only it didn't. Before you even realized it, your body was already addicted. You craved the numbness that the damned capsules gave you, the release from the endless pain that singed your nerves day and night. You couldn't give them up. You tried– but the sickness that came when you stopped– you were sure it would kill you.

Simon didn't know what to do. You lied, you kept him at a distance, never fully explaining to him what was going on. He didn't realize how bad it was. He tried not to pry, or to push you, but Simon put his foot down when he found you on the bathroom floor unconscious, a bottle of pills on the counter, half empty. His words reverberated in your ears, a harsh warning that he wouldn't watch you kill yourself.

"You have to get clean, Y/N." He'd said from a place of love, but you couldn't help but crumble under his judgment, "I can't watch you do this to yourself anymore. You 'ave to sober up."

So here you are, a heap in Simon's lap, the both of you intertwined on the bathroom floor as you fight the overwhelming illness that accompanies withdrawals. Everything you've survived: loss, wounds, torture– it pales in comparison to the misery you're experiencing now. You refused to go to a detox center, not wanting to lose your position in the Task Force. You promised Simon that you'd let him drive you to the hospital if things got bad, but you want to do this at home.

Bile rises from your stomach, lingering in the back of your throat as you gag. Immediately, Simon pulls your hair back into his fist, and helps to position you over the toilet.

You dry heave, gagging on air as both of your cold hands grip the toilet bowl. Your wedding band glints in the dim bathroom light, bringing another layer of anguish to your already broken soul.

He shouldn't have to deal with this.

"Easy, love. Get it all out. I've got you." Simon coos as your stomach aches and flips, desperate to rid itself of any contents. Only you haven't been able to eat, so nothing comes up but painful bursts of air. You gasp and heave, collapsing back against Simon and erupting into loud sobs. Your bones ache as you fall onto his chest, and his hands hover over your form, unsure on how to hold you without shattering you even further.

"I can't– I can't! Simon, please! Please. I'm going to die. M' gonna die–" You panic, "I'm not strong enough. You know that I'm not." You plead, begging for the substance that he has already flushed down the drain, your mind refuses to believe that it's actually gone.

Simon's previously unbreakable heart manages to crack, and he wishes more than anything to carry the burden of your suffering. You're his wife, and it's his job to take the weight off your shoulders, but he can't do this for you. He can, however, be with you every step of the way. You showed him a new way of living, a way to do more than just survive. You've shown him love when he was undeserving of it. It's unbearable for him to see you, such a beam of light, in so much pain.

"Look at me, baby. Look at me." Simon holds your face until your eyes meet his. Those chestnut colored irises hold your attention– the same ones you looked into as you read your vows, as you suffered pain, and loss, felt love and lust. They've watched after you through everything.

"You can do this, yeah? You're the strongest person I know. Stronger than any other soldier in the Task Force, stronger than me. If anyone can beat this, it's you." Simon reassures.

Your face crumples when you realize he's firm in his decision. You shake your head, clammy palms coming to rest against your face.

"Please, Simon." You beg once again. Your body is trembling like a leaf held against the wind, cold wraps around your bones suffocatingly, squeezing every ounce of comfort from your being and leaving you high and dry. Pure, unadulterated suffering.

"Come 'ere." Simon whispers, standing up from the tile floor and scooping you into his arms. He hooks his arms under your head and knees before carrying you into the bedroom.

The soft bed dips under your shared weight as Simon lays down with you, his body wrapping around your own like a perfect puzzle piece. He pulls your back to his chest, letting you use his tattooed arm as a pillow. Your sobs quiet down to muffled whimpers as you shake lightly, wishing you could go back in time, solve this before it became a problem.

Father time has never been merciful though, has he?

"Blanket or no?" Simon asks. You nod your head quickly.

"Yes, it's so cold. I'm so cold." Your teeth chatter lightly as you reiterate. Simon pulls the thick comforter over your forms, tucking it in around the edges as he adjusts behind you.

An hour ago you were burning up, stripping off your clothes and sobbing at the heat clawing its way through your body like some sort of fiery plague. He'd put you in a cool bath, checking your temperature probably more often than what was necessary.

You shake and writhe, whimpers and groans of agony slipping past your lips every once in a while. It's killing Simon to see you like this. Every ounce of light has drained from your eyes, the life has seeped from your pores, replaced with the lingering disease of addiction. He misses your laughter, your smile. It could light up a room. You've gotten the boys through many dark days. You were the sunshine of the Task Force. Failed missions, loss, heartache, no matter how bad things got, your optimism never ceased. Not until recently, anyhow.

"We'll get there again." Simon tells himself like a mantra in his head,"She'll get better."

He's personally seeing that you do. He won't allow you the pills to take hold of you, he'll fight. He's seen more soldiers die from pills than bullets. He won't let you meet that fate, he won't.

He can't lose you.

The room is covered with a calm silence, only the sound of your quick breathing to let him know you're still alive. Simon is quiet as well, and you drown in the silence, hoping for any kind of distraction to pull you away from your unending misery. You can feel yourself giving up, wanting nothing more than to slip into old habits. You slip your eyes shut, opening them only once a voice rumbles in your ear.

"I was thinking… when you're better we'll get a bigger house." Simon quietly blurts out from behind you.

A wrinkle forms in between your brows, and you crane your neck to look at him. You're sure he's trying to distract you, coming up with random conversation to keep your mind off of the present. When you look back, his gaze is far away, fixed on something on the far wall. A small smile graces his uncovered lips– he's been keeping the mask off at home recently, you've noticed. There is a light in his eyes, a light that you used to think would never grace the eyes of Simon Riley.

"What? Why would we need a bigger house?" You ask with a small chuckle. He's succeeding in his distraction, you realize.

His eyes flicker down to yours, hand gripping onto your waist as you turn towards him in curiosity. Your eyelids are heavy, another wave of exhaustion coming over you.

"For the little ones." Simon responds.

He says it on a breath. He says it so plainly, so effortlessly, that tears immediately well in your eyes. He's never responded to your questions about children– usually shutting down or ignoring the topic wholly. Your lip wobbles, and he runs his thumb over the cracked skin.

"Ch-children?" You ask, a new sense of hope filling your being. A new reason to fight– to get clean. Children. A family.

"A girl, with your eyes…" Simon chuckles, "Probably with your attitude too."

You laugh at that, tears slipping down your cheeks in landing on his hand that cups your face.

"Maybe a boy. Hopefully he gets your features n' not my ugly mug." Simon huffs.

"What changed…?" You ask, wincing as a wave of nausea pulses through your body. Simon's eyes go wide for a second, and his grip tightens on you, ready in an instant to carry you back into the bathroom if you need. The pain passes and you shake your head, signaling that you're okay. Immediately, he relaxes. It's quiet for a moment as Simon traces his thumb over your paper thin skin.

"A dog, a new house, babies, anything you want. I'll give you anything you want, just get better for me, baby." Simon pleads, a hint of vulnerability tracing his words. It's one of only a few times he's begged you.

"I don't want a future without you in it. I want my wife. I want our kids terrorizing the place, I want to get old and retire the Force with you. Hell, I'd turn in my letter of resignation today if you asked, just please, fight for me, love."

The tears are falling freely now, you don't try to stop them. Guilt fills your being at the realization of everything you've put your husband through for the past few months. Through it all, he's never left your side. He's still here. Kissing closed your wounds, and promising to plant flowers in their place.

A soft kiss is pressed to your forehead before amber eyes peek down at you through blonde eyelashes. You chew on your lip, a bad habit.

Your resolve is set, and even though your body shrieks for the opposite, you'll get through this. You have to.

You have Sunday mornings to look forward to, lazily pouring Simon a cup of tea in his favorite mug. You have a house to buy, with two bedrooms instead of one. Dragging Simon through the shops and picking out all the different onesies he'll let you bring home. You have walks through the park to go on. You have to pick up takeout on Simon's late nights at work. You have to sit on his desk while you share an entree and talk to him until he forgets about the paperwork he's supposed to be doing. So many little actions to go through, little memories to make. You can't give it up. You won't.

There is so much to fight for, so much to hope for, all given to you by the man before you. Tears sting your eyes again as you finally speak up.

"I promise you, Simon. I'll fight. For us, I will."

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon riley #cod x reader #cod x y/n #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #ghost call of duty #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfic #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #cod mw22 #cod mw x reader

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