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#he's just the only one that gets picked up :3
mwagneto · 2 days
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hungarian/nomadic magyar tumblr circa 998AD dashboard simulator
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🏞️ vándor-ló-979 Follow
not yall still spreading emese's foundation myth??? she literally claims she fucked a bird????? like either she's lying or she cheated and she's trying to cover it up or well. i dont even want to consider the third option
🪺 magánügyek Follow
tengri forbid women do anything???
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🦅 szél-könnyű-szárnyán-szállj Follow
okay im sick of the discourse let's do this.
8,572 notes
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🐎 istván-rovására Follow
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that took so long lmao -> !!!!!!!∧◇ᛏ⋈∧
481 notes
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🐴 csillagösvény Follow
i'm so serious rn if you support """istván""" in any way just unfollow and block me. we do NOT need him or his dumbass god and what he's been doing to our people to spread his religion is shameful.
🐴 csillagösvény Follow
btw we all know your real name is vajk stop larping as a christian it's EMBARRASSINGGGG
✝️ esztergom-örökké Follow
love seeing my mutuals reblogging this /s anyway op has multiple posts on their blog supporting quartering and human sacrifice. in case you were wondering. anyway stand with István
🐴 csillagösvény Follow
1) we dont even do human sacrifices, are you fucking stupid??? show me ONE post where i talk about that. 2) are you seriously forgetting that your bestie istván LITERALLY QUARTERED HIS UNCLE?????
#sorry to put this dumbass on the dash😭 dont even engage just block them #ur not making it up the tree of life lmao #discourse
3,264 notes
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🌅 bolygó-kárpáti Follow
friendly reminder that just because you're white passing doesn't mean you're not a real magyar!! people with mixed parents are just as valid <3
🏇 attila-népe Follow
cranky coz ur ancestors decided to mix with the europeans arent you
🧺 lemezelő Follow
isnt your girlfriend literally frankish????
🏇 attila-népe Follow
you had to have done some serious stalking to find that💀 and first of all i didn't have a choice, my parents picked the tribe, and second of all she's not my "girlfriend" i got her via ritual kidnapping (WITH consent. before anyone gets weird)
🌐 a-kiber-kovács Follow
Couldn't you have kidnapped another magyar woman? Or someone from another mongoloid tribe?
🔅 hadúrsimp Follow
ohh sure so now human pet guy is gonna chime in to advocate for the kidnapping of our women while being lowkey racist. what are you even doing on nomadblr????
🌅 bolygó-kárpáti Follow
what the fuck happened to my post
19,276 notes
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🪔 rakabonciás Follow
for the nth time, you're only a true shaman if you were born with teeth OR with extra fingers OR in the sac. the rest of you are faking & we can tell.
🦅szél-könnyű-szárnyán-szállj Follow
okay people keep spreading this but this is literally just wrong?? like congrats on the 6 fingers op im glad u and Little Golden Father have a special connection (genuinely) but like. táltos and sámán and mágus and garabonciás and javas etc are all different things with completely different requirements and life paths which you should definitely know if you're claiming to be one?? especially since your post says shaman but you're listing the criteria for a táltos, and your username looks like a play on garabonciás so. which is it🤔 maybe get your facts in order before trying to gatekeep
anyway don't listen to op!! your connection to the Upper World is yours alone and you're the best judge of what the Fathers and Mothers want your path in life to be!!
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🛐 mea-culpa Follow
It breaks my heart that the majority of my people still refuse to see the One True God and insist on sticking to their pagan spirits. I fear that when judgement day comes, we will all be wiped out thanks to their foul godless ways.
🐴 csillagösvény Follow
how tf am i godless when i literally have dozens of gods? little mothers and little fathers are in everything all around us & it must suck ass to live in a world where you're not surrounded by the small gods that inhabit everything. manifesting that the fene and the guta tag team beat your ass tonight
🔅 hadúrsimp Follow
hadúr will literally strike op down personally. he told me himself. whispered it to me sweetly even
🐴 csillagösvény Follow
while i agree with you, i feel like you might also have ulterior motives, nomadblr user hadúrsimp
#but live your truth! doubly so on the posts of these freak repressed bible lovers. meanwhile on the #COOL side of magyarhood we walk around butt ass naked!!! op have fun never experiencing joy ever again tho #discourse
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👑 sanctus-stephanus Follow
posting from an alt so i don't get cancelled but lowkey i'm starting to think koppány was right.... maybe this christianity thing isn't gonna work out after all
👑 sanctus-stephanus Follow
WRONG BLOG
👑 sanctus-stephanus Follow
THIS WAS A JOKE. IGNORE THIS
🪺 magánügyek Follow
ISTVÁN????????????? 💀
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crookedteethed · 2 days
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18+ various kinks, slight smut, hints of dub con/non-con kink
⋆ ★ Thinking about the Rafe's and their specific kinks <3
Season One Rafe would so be into doing lines of coke off your body--bonus points if you are about to do it behind the big rock at the beach or on his balcony during one of his Kook parties because he's also a bit of an exhibitionist. 
It felt decadent to Rafe to pull out your perfectly plush tits (or your ass) and sprinkle a bit of that angel dust down the valley of your breast. He wouldn't snort it immediately; he'd wait until he had his thick length inside your sopping wet cunt--and then he'd snort the line, engulfed in your deliciousness. 
Fuck did Rafe love your body, but fuck did he love coke--so why not mix the two?
Rafe had adorned the thrill he got when he got that first hit of blow mixed with the thrill he got when he'd first plunged into your cunt; it often made him want to fuck you harder until your nose bleed.
If he couldn't fuck you hard enough until your nose bleed, he would settle for bruising your skin with big love bits and hickies--it had something to do with his male ego.
In a way that was larger then just decadence, Season One Rafe loved the thrill he gotten for knowing he has and will be the only man that's been inside you.
Like all the times he would purposely brush your gums with coke on his fingers, and then put you in a jaw gripping kiss, just to lick your mouth clean, all while sitting across from Kelce and Topper.
He loved the power it gave him knowing he was the only person that could use you like this.
Season Two Rafe always found himself palming or adjusting his cock at your innocence.
I mean, fuck, how could he not get hard when you're kneeling on your knees in front of him, wide eyes and mouth full of his cock, asking him, "Like this?" Because you've never sucked dick before. 
And though Rafe did love the more skilled girls--he loved how he never had to tell them what to do--Rafe also had loved your naiveness and your naiveness with a cock. 
Did you sometimes use your teeth when blowing him? Maybe. 
But it's not like Rafe could scorn you about it; he knew that you simply didn't know any better, and that's why Rafe was the one to be your first everything so he could teach you better.
Apart from Rafe and his attraction to your innocence, he also had a kink for destroying that innocence. 
Fuck he thought he was going to bust his load when he finally coerced you into doing coke for the first time. 
Rafe had been low himself, so he wanted to make someone who could be low with him. (It's true what they say about misery-liking company.) 
Like the time in Season Two when Rafe had taken your virginity, yeah, you cried and kept whimpering to him, "it hurt." or "stop" but all of that was just ammunition to him; he loved to consume something so pure and innocent and ruin it for nobody else to have it--like what had happened to him.
Season Three Rafe would have a breeding kink. I mean, it goes hand in hand with his "man of the house" mentality. 
There is no doubt about it: Rafe is a thrill seeker--it's why he does coke or purposely picks fights. 
Fucking you without a condom was such a thrill to Rafe--it was like playing Russian roulette, but the chances of him getting shot were the chances of him getting you knocked up (which he didn't mind). 
But what had turned him on was after shooting his cum inside of you, it was so hot for Rafe to force his cum to stay inside you. 
He'll either plug your discarded panties into your cunt, or force you to finger yourself so you can push the cum deep inside of you. And if you were being too bratty, he'll just fuck the cum deep inside of you. 
None of Rafe's cum would go to waste. None of it. 
Even when you give him blowjobs, he'll scoop the cum that either landed on your face or tits and smear the cum around your pussy. 
God, Season Three Rafe could not wait for the day you swelled and leaked with milk, all because of him.
But all this goes to say, he wouldn't mind it, if you were to call him Daddy (in and out of the bedroom).
Honorable Mention:
I also feel like each Rafe would without a doubt be into choking.
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emilys-bangs · 2 days
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The last thing you reblogged gave me an idea !
Touch starved Emily who is friends with you but would never dare ask you for unnecessary hugs etc., you two are close but she doesn’t want to cross that bridge since she definitely likes you a lot more than just a friend and also she’s scared of being so open and vulnerable that she admits she needs a hug and a cuddle.
You two are on a case once again, end up rooming together and there’s only one bed. You both don't really mind and go to sleep, each one on their respective side of the bed - except when you wake up in the middle of the night, Emily is cuddled around you, having subconsciously seeked your touch while she’s asleep.
You can decide how to go from there if this idea is any good to you, no worries if not and I hope you have a great week 😘😘
Tysm for requesting, I hope you have a great week as well! I sincerely thank that one post about touch starved Emily that made us all go insane <3
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Midas touch | emily prentiss x reader
Tags: touch starved Emily, room sharing, bed sharing, fluff, a ridiculous amount of yearning
Word count: 2.5k
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You’d have to be blind not to notice Emily’s affinity for touch.
It’s something you’ve picked up on after a mere week in the BAU, and honestly, you’ve never seen anything like it. It’s like she craves touch, physically needs the added comfort of hands wrapping around elbows, arms slung across shoulders and casual side-hugs. In the more lax confines of Rossi’s living room or o’keefe’s, it’s not unusual to see her wrapped around somebody, or at least closely sharing what’s meant to be personal space. 
At work, however, it’s different; a bit more subtle, but still palpably flowing with love—the way she sneaks behind Garcia’s chair and wraps her arms around her neck in hello, Emily’s cheek pressing against the analyst’s. How she runs her fingers through Spencer’s messy curls, and how—despite his protests—he lets her, almost imperceptibly leaning into her hand before she pulls away. Her hip is frequently attached to JJ’s, their temples touching as she slides her palm into the back pocket of JJ’s jeans. Rossi is given paternal kisses on the cheek, Morgan dragged around with his hand in hers, their fingers interlocking in a weave of pale and dark. Even Hotch gets his fair share of physical affection from her, though more subtle but no less loving; a tugging at his belt loops, a nimble fixing of his tie, the brush of her fingers along his elbow.
Everyone gets a piece of Emily’s attention. 
Everyone except you.
It upsets you in ways you can’t fully explain—at least not without admitting to yourself that you’re falling deeply and helplessly in love with her. None of it remotely makes sense; despite her very deliberately withholding her touch from you, she’s been nothing but lovely, always having your back and gently correcting you when you slip up. 
But still, when an overbooked hotel forces Hotch to relay the unfortunate news of doubling up and she turns to you, surprise renders you silent. 
“Me and you?” Emily asks, paying no mind to JJ next to her.
You speak through your dry throat, “Um—yeah, sure.”
Hotch places the key in your hand, glad to have one pair down. You dig it into the flesh of your palm.
“I’ll take that one, thank you.” Rossi plucks a key from Hotch’s hand and turns away, leisurely walking to the elevator as protests rise behind him.
Hotch shakes his head, exasperated. You almost feel sorry for him. “Morgan?” He says, looking at him. Morgan nods, which leaves JJ with Reid.
Reid looks pleased; JJ less so, but she doesn’t protest as she takes the key from Hotch.
“Aww, good luck, pretty girl.” Emily coos, cupping JJ’s cheek and tapping it playfully. Jealousy stirs in your stomach, hot and acidic as JJ shrugs off her hand with an eye roll, a small smile lifting the corners of her mouth.
The key is in your hand so you turn on your heel, a bad taste in your mouth as Reid starts to protest, the sound getting lost somewhere between Emily’s soft laughs.
She knows them longer than she knows you, you think as you take the stairs two at a time, trying to outrun the beating of your heart. Your somewhat blurry eyes pick out the door with the matching number on your key. Your legs take you to it, almost on autopilot.
“Hey, wait up,” Emily’s voice carries, reaching you in a cloud of spun silk. There’s a rush of air behind you and you feel her creeping over your shoulder, the scent of her perfume choking you sweetly. “You don’t want me to sleep in the hall, do you?”
You can’t bring yourself to rise to the teasing in her voice. Fitting the key in the lock with unsteady fingers, you mumble, “Would’a let you in if you’d knocked.”
But trying to keep your distance doesn’t work, because the one bed in the room glares at you as soon as you push the door open.
Your throat goes dry. 
Emily hovers impatiently at your back and you swallow as you take a step into the threshold of the room, wondering how the hell she’d share a bed with you when she seems reluctant to touch you in the first place.
Panicked, you take your bag and head into the bathroom before Emily can say anything, desperately needing a moment to compose yourself. It’s safe to say you spend more time in there than you usually would, lengthening your short routine to busy yourself.
Only when you’ve semi-calmed down do you go out, finding her perched on the edge of the large—king sized, at least—bed.
“Hey. Are you okay with this?” Emily’s eyes are wide and dark, shining with concern. 
There’s no place for you to sleep anyway if you said no, but somehow you get the feeling she’d make it work if you were uncomfortable. A confused rush of emotion runs hot under your skin; lingering jealousy and ever present bitterness and confusing pleasure at her concern.
God, you need to go to bed.
“I’m fine with it,” you force a smile. It must not be very convincing, because Emily frowns, a delicate pull drawing her brows together. Just before she says something, you speak. “Are you okay with it?”
That snaps her out of it. “Yeah,” Emily murmurs, a dimple winking at you as she gives you a small smile, “as long as you don’t kick.”
You didn’t expect her to agree so easily. Some part of you wonders if she’s lying, but you can’t look at her eyes long enough to decipher that—you’re mildly afraid if you sunk into their depths you’d never be able to claw your way out.
“I haven’t had any complaints,” you try to shrug casually. “Do you prefer a side?”
“No, go ahead. It doesn’t matter what side I sleep on, I always somehow find my way in the middle.”
That makes you crack a smile.
The bathroom door clicks shut behind her and you press your knuckles into your eyes, wondering if you can possibly get through this night without losing your already delicate composure.
It’s just a bed, you tell yourself as you take out a pair of sweatpants to serve as pajamas. And it’s just for one night. It’s fine.
It’s fine. Sure it is.
You’re already in bed and beneath the sheets when Emily walks out of the bathroom. It’s a mistake to look at her, because you think you’ve just fallen deeper in love.
She’s shaking her hair out from the confines of its ponytail and it falls in soft waves around her shoulders, curling at the ends where the water sprayed it. A cotton tank top gently hugs her body, and pale blue shorts skim the tops of her thighs.
She’s not wearing a bra.
You’re staring.
“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to share tonight,” Emily smiles sheepishly as she lifts the covers and climbs into the bed. A lump is lodged in your throat at the sight of her bare legs slipping through the sheets, shimmering softly from her lotion. It smells sweet, she smells sweet—like warm cocoa butter—and it takes everything in you not to inhale deeply like a creep.
“Neither was I.” You croak. Emily settles her head on her pillow and you try not to stare at her lashes, so naturally long and thick even without her usual mascara.
She’s literally going to be the death of you.
“G’night,” you mumble and turn away before she can answer. The heat in your cheeks burns, and you dig them into the pillow in hopes of cooling them down.
“Night,” Emily whispers back. The sheets rustle as she presumably turns, too.
Needless to say, it takes a while for you to fall asleep. 
It must happen at some point, though, because something wakes you. You open your eyes to the darkness of the room, unsure what it is. You just know that you’re abnormally warm and trapped beneath something smelling like cocoa butter.
Emily.
Your sluggish brain slowly puts the pieces together. Her arm is around your neck, cutting across your chest; her thigh is hitched over your hip. Cold fingertips are hooked into the collar of your t-shirt and you shiver despite the warmth of your own body. Slow breaths puff across your neck, warm and even.
Briefly, you think you’re dreaming, but just as quickly that thought dissipates. She’s too real, too warm—and anyway your imagination could never come up with something as divine as this.
You’re not completely innocent either. Your arm is hooked around her waist, your skin directly touching the warm skin of her waist. Her tank top has risen up and your blurry eyes catch a tattoo on her hipbone; a faded butterfly.
You should let her go. 
It’s an internal battle, because she fits there, perfectly, and even though you know it’s wrong, you close your eyes and continue holding her. 
It’s wrong, it’s so wrong. She doesn’t want your touch. She’s made that perfectly clear, but her warm body, the soft tickle of her hair, they cloud your senses, fog your brain and hide all traces of reason or sensibility.
But still, half asleep or not, you can’t betray her trust like this.
You’re just about to force yourself to let go when Emily snuggles closer, a long sigh escaping through her nose. Her lashes tickle your skin, wispy and light across your neck as she nestles into your collarbone.
Fuck.
You hold still and wait for her to move again. She doesn’t, other than the steady rise and fall of her chest, so you close your eyes too. You would’ve thought it would be difficult to fall asleep with almost every inch of her body touching every inch of yours, but you’re encompassed in warmth and softness and the scent of cocoa butter. 
Really, it only takes a minute before you’re asleep again.
———
She’s still in your arms when you wake up. Your alarm didn’t ring yet—it must’ve been a combination of Emily’s warmth and your internal clock that woke you up.
Her head is now on your pillow, one of her knees slotted between yours and her arm around your waist. She’s like a clingy koala, even in her sleep, and it only makes your heart ache.
Through the blurriness in your vision you see the small freckles that dot her cheeks. They’re tiny, almost unnoticeable, scattered over the bridge of her nose and under her swooping lashes. Her fingers tighten in your shirt and again the guilt surfaces, but it’s so slow to rise in the pale morning light, when you’re sluggish with sleep.
Emily’s eyes flutter open. 
Shit, you freeze, your muscles stiffening. 
You’re caught.
Suddenly you’re staring into dark chips of obsidian, clouds of sleep swirling through them. At first Emily gives no reaction, but then her brain evidently catches up and her eyes widen, her fingers letting go of your shirt.
Just before you apologize, she does.
“I’m sorry,” she blurts. Her voice is raspy and you fight the shiver before it travels down your spine. “I get really—”
“Clingy,” you mumble. “Yeah, I know. It’s obvious.” Your voice is soft, mainly because you’re too tired to fight with your own demons so early in the morning.
“I’m really sorry,” Emily whispers again, mortified. Her cheeks flush a pretty pink as she retracts her arm and her leg, curling back into her side of the bed. The sheets she leaves behind are warm, and you fight the urge to place your hand where she once was.
“S’okay. You do it with everyone, I know that.” Then, because it’s the morning and your brain is half asleep and still fogged from holding her, you ask, “Why not with me, though?”
Her teeth chew down on her lip. “Why not you, what?” She mumbles.
“Emily,” you sigh, “it’s too early for you to mess with my head. You know what.”
Emily gives a sigh of her own. She doesn’t look at you as she fiddles with the hem of her tank top and drags it back down, hiding the exposed sliver of her torso. It doesn’t help that your eyes follow her movements, because her shorts have ridden up her thighs.
“It means…more when it’s you.” She eventually says, her voice quiet. Your breath hitches and she continues looking down, frowning at the hem of her tank top. “Everything does. Can’t touch you like that and pretend it means nothing.”
The slight slur to her voice makes her confession all the more intimate. As does her bed head, the red sleep lines on the underside of her arm. This is a soft Emily, a vulnerable one, and she’s laying herself bare for you in the morning light while sleep still lingers in both your eyes.
It only confirms your love for her.
Your relief is palpable; it quickly shifts to affection, something flowery crowding the back of your throat and making it hard to swallow. She doesn’t hate you, she doesn’t think you’re disgusting or repulsive. 
She couldn’t touch you because it would give her away. Because it’s the most genuine aspect of her, one she can’t dampen or hide any more than she can stop her heart from beating.
It seems almost too big a revelation for this small hotel room bathed in morning light. Still, your hand reaches for hers. You wrap your fingers around her own, both of them now resting gently on her stomach.
“It doesn’t have to mean nothing.” You whisper.
Emily’s eyes snap to yours. They’re like the black, bitter coffee you have no choice but knock back in precincts all over the country. They make your heart race, because they come closer—she comes closer—until both your heads are resting on the same pillow again. Emily cups your joint hands with her free one, reverently protecting the tenderness of your touch.
“You’re…” Her breath hitches and she falters, then sucks in a breath, “You’re telling me you want this?”
You squeeze her fingers. “More than anything.”
Emily blows out a low sigh. You bring your free hand up to trace the curve of her brow; she leans into it. “I do, too.” She confesses. “More than anything.”
Your thumb travels down to the corner of her mouth. “Then there’s nothing stopping us. Is there?” You ask gently.
“No.” Emily sighs. “Nothing.”
She tilts her head, lets you continue exploring her face with your fingertips. Her features are gently traced; the bridge of her nose and the outline of her lips and the shape of her brows. Slowly, her knee worms its way between both of yours.
You smile and Emily smiles back, a shy dimple in her cheek. 
“Be clingy. With me,” you murmur, keeping your voice low because you’re afraid love already spills from it, “I want you to be.”
Her nose nuzzles into your cheek. “You’ll soon regret saying that.” Emily mumbles, the vibration of her voice reverberating through your skin. It fills you with strange peace.
“Never.” You whisper.
Until the alarm rings, the two of you spend your time erasing away the boundaries, learning the lines of each other’s bodies with your fingertips with slow confidence.
Because now, you have all the time in the world.
taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism
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corroded-hellfire · 3 days
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I’m sorry for getting distracted like ten times before sending this but tbh it’s kinda your fault <3
Imagine you’re sitting in the backyard with Eddie while watching the kids run around and Eddie starts talking about how happy and thankful he is for the life he has now. He gets emotional with you and even starts to cry and I just wanna see him cry happy tears. LET MY BOY BE HAPPY.
Your wish is my and @munson-blurbs’s command our darling wife 💚
Words: 2.3k
[As You Wish masterlist]
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Autumn in Hawkins is…well, like any other time in Hawkins, but with a crisp bite in the air. The leaves that budded in the spring and held a lively green in the summer are now beginning to turn brown, curling in on themselves as they fall off of the trees. The sun dips behind the clouds earlier and earlier, bringing many of the town’s residents inside their homes for the night. 
But not your family. 
You and Eddie sit side by side on the porch swing, watching your kids run around the backyard. All three of them—four, if you count Luke’s dog—are playing a rousing game of tag. Ryan and Luke have teamed up against Eliza and Patch. It isn’t much of a fair fight, considering your daughter is only three years old and the dog doesn’t have a clue about what’s happening, but no one is complaining. 
Eddie’s hand finds your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. “This is pure chaos,” he whispers in your ear. 
“Insanity,” you agree. Eliza shrieks giddily as Ryan picks her up and slings her over his shoulder. There was a time where you could carry Ryan; now, he’s sixteen-years-old and turning into a young man. It was as though the years had slipped through your fingers without you realizing. “What were we thinking, adding another one into this mix?”
Instinctively, Eddie splays his palm over your stomach. You’re only a month along and aren’t close to showing yet, but he still feels that protectiveness over you. 
“Four kids and a dog,” he muses, shaking his head. “This is your fault, y’know?”
“My fault?”
Eddie nods, a serious look on his face. “Oh, yes. It was two against two when we just had the boys. But then you had to be so damn perfect, and so I had to give you a baby.” He presses a kiss to your cheek. 
“And what about this one?” You glance at where his hand rests. “Is that my fault, too?”
“Absolutely.” Eddie grins. “I mean, you looked so beautiful pregnant with Eliza. How could I possibly let that be a one-time thing?”
You’re about to protest that it was actually a nine-month thing, but you’re interrupted by Patch barking excitedly. 
The brown and white puppy runs as fast as his little legs will take him, doing laps around the three kids. He seems content when Eliza is put back down on the ground, and he can go over and check on her.
“I’m okay!” Eliza comforts with a breathless laugh. 
She pets Patch on the head as he sniffs all over her small legs and feet. Luke snatches his little sister, and though he doesn’t pick her up off the ground, he holds her prisoner against his chest.
“Whatcha gonna do now, Patch?” he teases. “Remember, I’m the one who feeds you!”
Eliza squeals and wriggles against the fourteen-year-old’s chest. Ryan decides to take the attention off both of his siblings and plop down on the grass right next to Patch.
The plan works perfectly as the Australian Shepherd and Labrador mix abandons both younger Munsons and climbs onto Ryan’s chest.
Eddie chuckles from next to you. When you turn to look at him, an infectious grin has you joining in his laughter.
“We’re raising some great kids, huh?” he muses, still watching them.
“Let’s hope this next one turns out just as amazing,” you say, squeezing your hand over Eddie’s where it’s perched on your stomach. 
He turns his hand around to lace his fingers with yours before bringing your hand up to his mouth. His soft, yet slightly chapped lips press kisses from your knuckles all the way to the inside of your wrist. The two of you may have been together for over six years now, but the display of affection still makes you dizzy with giddiness. 
“I keep wondering about how they’re going to react,” Eddie says, nodding towards your children out on the lawn. “I think I’ve imagined them responding in every possible way.”
“Can I be the one to say it to them?” you ask. It feels a little silly, but the idea of getting to say the words “you’re going to have a baby brother or sister” to them fills you with glee.
“Of course, princess.” 
It’s quiet for a few minutes as the two of you watch Eliza demonstrate to Patch how to roll over. Luke pretends to give his little sister a treat from his pocket and the girl playfully growls at him.
“Do you think Luke will wanna name this new baby?” you ask Eddie as his thumb lazily strokes the back of your hand.
“God, I hope not,” he admits with a breathy chuckle. “He’s been obsessed with WWE lately. We’ll have to name it John Cena.”
You giggle and rest your head on your husband’s shoulder. Man, this pregnancy was already hitting you with the exhaustion. 
“Well, Eliza would probably pick Hercules or Megara,” you point out. “Not much better.”
Eddie leans in and kisses your forehead. “Maybe we have to institute a ‘no wrestlers and no cartoon characters’ rule this time.”
“But then Eliza wouldn’t be Eliza,” you point out. It was Ryan who had chosen the name while watching The Wild Thornberries. “So, we might have to make an exception if needed.”
“Fair enough.” 
Before you can set any more ground rules, Luke calls out from the grass:
“Attention, lady and gentledad! The Amazing Eliza and her fearless pup, Patch, would like to perform their death-defying spectacular!”
You sit up a bit, watching as Eliza crouches on her hands and knees. Luke fishes a slice of bologna out of his pants pocket—you’re not sure how long it’s been in there, and you’re not sure you want to—and stands on one side of his sister. 
On her other side, Ryan holds Patch in his arms, the Aussiedor wriggling in anticipation of his snack. 
“And now,” Luke bellows, “we will release the beast!”
With that, your oldest son places Patch on the grass. Before all paws even touch down, the dog bolts towards Luke, leaping over Eliza with surprising grace. 
Eliza jumps up, excitement written all over her cherubic face. “Mommy! Daddy! Did you see that? Did you see me and Patch?”
“We sure did, sweet pea.” You look over at Eddie to gauge his reaction, only to see that his eyes are glassy. The kids are already plotting Patch’s next trick when you ask your husband what’s wrong. 
Eddie shakes his head, swiping at a tear that managed to escape. “I was just thinking about how much they smile,” he says softly. “Especially the boys. It wasn’t always this way.”
You lace your fingers with his. “I know.” You remember the early days of babysitting Ryan and Luke. They walked on eggshells around Brittany, always prepared to be dismissed or outright rejected. Each “I’m too busy to play with you,” extinguished a little more light in their eyes. 
“I love you,” Eddie murmurs. “I love you for so many reasons, but I love you most of all for bringing joy back into our lives again. For reminding us how a family should be.”
Another tear rolls down his cheek as he takes in the unconditional love that surrounds him. You reach over with your free hand and wipe the tear away with your thumb. 
“Every smile and little giggle from those boys has brought me so much joy ever since I met them. Seeing their general happiness grow over these last ten years has been a highlight of my life.”
You bring Eddie’s hand up and press a few soft kisses against the back of it. 
“And now there’s another infectious laughter added to the mix,” Eddie says with a teary chuckle as Eliza’s wild giggle floats over to you on a crisp breeze. 
“And another one soon, I’m sure,” you say, placing a hand on your lower abdomen. “I can’t picture this kid having less than an enchanting laugh.”
Eddie sniffles and nods his head. “We’re all so lucky to have you here. The best mom and the best wife.”
“Not to mention that loving and attentive father our lucky babies have. You don’t give yourself enough credit for how happy you make all of us,” you tell him. 
He tries to shrug it off, but you’re persistent. 
“It’s true! Every laugh and smile I saw from the boys in the early days was because of you. You’re the reason they had light in their lives those grade school years. And you’re the reason Eliza is as stubborn as a mule, but still the greatest kid who is full of love and laughter. And then there’s me.” You rest your chin on his shoulder and look up at him through your lashes. “I’ve never felt so safe before. So safe and loved. And I get to goof off and laugh everyday with my best friend. Cause I’m lucky enough that I got to marry my best friend.”
Eddie’s tears are coming in harder now. It brings a smile to your face, though, to know he realizes just how loved every single person in this family is. That the love only grows stronger every day and soon there will be a new little person to give and receive even more love in the Munson house. 
Your husband clears his throat and rubs over his eyes with the sleeve of his black zip-up hoodie. 
“Dad?” you hear Luke say, approaching closer. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie assures him as he tries to make sure any trace of tears is gone. “I’m okay.”
“Then why were you crying?” Eliza gasps out as she runs over to the two of you. 
“Just happy,” Eddie responds, picking the three-year-old up and setting her in his lap. “I’ve got the greatest wife and kids in the world.”
“And dog,” Luke adds as Patch trots his way over. “Patch is the best.”
“And Patch,” Eddie agrees with a chuckle. 
The puppy puts his front two paws on the porch swing next to you and you take the hint. You bend over and pick up the precocious canine, who happily makes himself comfortable in your lap. 
Ryan comes over and sprawls out on the grass at the edge of the stone patio. He stares up at the rest of you and lets out a content sigh. 
“Dad’s a big old softy,” the sixteen-year-old quips. 
Eliza climbs up on the porch swing and Eddie has to wrap an arm around her waist to keep her from falling as the seat bucks from her movements. 
“Daddy is not soft,” Eliza states as she pokes her father’s bony shoulder. She then rubs her hand over his stubble as if to further prove her point. “Hard and scratchy.”
“What about big and old?” Luke asks, doing his best to keep a smile at bay. 
“Everyone is big compared to Liza Bean!” you butt in, reaching over with one hand to poke her belly. “She’s so teeny tiny!”
Eliza nods once in agreement. 
“Right, Mama! And, yeah, Daddy is old.”
You, Luke, and Ryan can’t help but laugh at her casual words. Eddie’s jaw drops open, and he looks at all of his family members with an affronted face. 
“I am only 41!” Your husband defends. 
“Old,” Eliza reiterates. 
Eddie grabs Eliza and clutches him close to her chest.
“Listen here, little missy!” His fingers dig into Eliza’s sides, making her squeal out in laughter. “I’m young enough to beat you up!”
“I don’t know if anyone can win against Eliza…” Ryan mutters.
“No!” Eliza shouts through her laughter. “I younger! I stronger!”
Eddie ceases his tickling and holds the three-year-old tight against his chest. 
“You can never escape.”
“Bite him!” Luke suggests.
“I’ll bite back,” Eddie says. “And my teeth are bigger.”
“Don’t want to damage your dentures,” Ryan says, a smirk dancing on his face.
You and Luke can’t help but laugh, but Eddie only narrows his eyes as his oldest son and leans into whisper something in Eliza’s ear. Your daughter’s face breaks out into a grin, and she nods her head enthusiastically. 
Eddie lets her down and takes a wide berth walking around her brothers. Neither of them takes their eyes off her small figure as Patch jumps down from your lap and follows the girl. While Eliza distracts them with the direction she’s walking, Eddie silently slips off the swing and is able to pounce on Ryan.
“Hey!” Ryan calls through laughter.
Despite how hard your eldest son tries to get free, Eddie is able to hold Ryan’s arms behind his back. With him subdued, Eliza launches herself at him, quickly glomming onto her biggest brother’s torso. 
“We got you!” Eliza calls. 
Ryan manages to get all three of them laying down on the grass, all squirming around like exposed worms looking for shelter. 
Luke simply shakes his head as he sits next to you on the porch swing. 
“Such children,” Luke admonishes. 
He uses his heels against the patio to gently push the swing back and forth as the two of you watch the other three squabble. 
“Us mature ones would never act this way,” Luke says to you.
“Never,” you agree with a chuckle.
You have no doubt something diabolical is spurning in the fourteen-year-old’s head, but you know that nothing you do or say will be able to stop it. Instead, you just lay your head down on top of Luke’s as you watch Eddie and Eliza try to keep Ryan down on the grass. 
“Mature,” you repeat to yourself. “That’s definitely us.”
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ssahotchnerr · 14 hours
Note
Hello! How are you doing?
I don't have anything extremely specific (sorry, I'm just leaving work and haven't really thought about this).
But if you want to, how about jealous Aaron who has the, very rare, opportunity to go pick up the reader from her job and see her all smiles with another coworker? In this case I was thinking that there might be a age gap between them and the male coworker is more of her age? So a bit of jealous and insecure Hotch?
If you feel comfortable with this of course!
Have a good day 😊
in comparison
cw; fem!reader, age gap, insecure :( and jealous!aaron, some angst, small suggestiveness, fluff <3 wc; 1.2k
You were exiting the building with a few of your colleagues, partaking in what appeared to be an entertaining conversation from Aaron's line of sight. The liveliness on your face was vivid, undoubtedly enjoying whatever the whole of you were collectively discussing.
You looked comfortable, relaxed, happy. You molded into the group well. One of your male colleagues in particular was inching a bit too close, a near awestruck expression on his face as a laugh escaped you. If he took one step to his right, his shoulder would be touching yours. While you were clueless, he was enamored.
Aaron felt his eyes harden involuntarily, a jealous heat swarming through his body; he wanted to march over there and assert his role as yours. However, the feeling wasn't long lasting. A profound sadness climbed up his spine, as he gained a different perspective.
It wasn't that you didn't fit into his life. On the complete contrary: you were the perfect addition.
But something about seeing you with others, with someone closer to your age, was daunting. Intimidating. It sickened him how natural the visual appeared. Reality has smacked him in the face numerous times over the years, he wouldn't be surprised if it happened again. That somehow, someway, you would prefer the latter. The one that had nothing to do with him.
As you walked towards Aaron's car, you glanced back at your coworkers, offering a wave and a smile as they jointly headed to the parking lot. His window was opened a crack, and he heard you call back towards them, "Have fun tonight!"
Aaron exhaled a breath.
"Hey." You chirped as you slid into the passenger seat, leaning over the center console to place a kiss on Aaron's cheek. He was rather stiff as you did so, causing you to lightly scrunch your nose in confusion, pulling away slowly. Something was up.
"Hey," He echoed, greeting you with an almost forced smile. The abruptness of his thoughts had unsettled him deeply - he couldn't shake them. "You ready?"
"As I'll ever be." You responded hesitantly, searching his face as you buckled your seatbelt. You added after a moment, happy to be in his company and the emotion overtaking your heart. "I missed you today."
But your words went unnoticed, as he had already reentered the void that was his unwelcome thoughts.
In result the car ride home was silent, Aaron's pout unfaltering. His mind was plagued by the image of your coworker being in his place, driving you home, or the two of you huddled together amongst a night out with friends. It caused an uncomfortable, sad pit in his stomach.
"You missed a turn."
"What?"
Your statement jolted him back to earth. No he didn't... did he? His eyebrows furrowed in a line, reassessing the current surroundings. Nothing out of the ordinary, all familiar street signs. When he confirmed he, in fact, did not miss a turn, he turned to you, only to find a knowing smirk plastered on your face.
His eyebrows quirked softly, obstructing the line drawn above his eyes. "What was that about?"
"To get your mind off whatever you're stewing about."
A smile threatened his lips, due to your witty expression and observation, "I'm not." His tone found a slightly lighter note - amusingly guilty. Anything but convincing.
"Aaron, darling, you're gonna break some teeth if that," Your playful demeanor dropped for a moment, your eyes tracing back and forth, as if you were in a trance. "Jaw of yours tightens anymore."
Your brief distraction eased a notion of his jealousy, he still had that effect on you, thankfully. He readjusted his grip on the steering wheel, his stare forward.
"So what is it?" You asked, "Did you have a bad day?"
He shook his head.
"Bad bout of cases?"
Aaron grimaced, his knuckles letting up only to secure his fingers over the wheel again, "They're always bad."
"Something I did?"
He opened his mouth to respond, but only silence came out. His hesitation caused your face to fall, your shoulders dropping and posture succumbing to the back of your seat.
"No honey, no you didn't do anything." He was quick to reassure, feeling entirely worse. "I can assure you."
Your eyes met his, needing more.
He sighed defeatedly, surprisingly not afraid to bluntly admit, "I'm jealous."
"Jealous?" You froze, but then it clicked. You gestured behind, as if your colleagues were somehow tailing the two of you. "Of...?"
Aaron bit his lip, nodding slowly.
Your expression lightened, a soft and genuine wonder in your eyes, "Why?"
"Are you okay with this?" Confusion arose on your face once more, so he clarified. "This. Us. You signed up for a lot, quickly at that."
Truth be told, the two of you had progressed at a rate neither of you expected, due to the sheer infatuation you possessed for one another. That, too, had been natural.
"I'm divorced, widowed, a father - I come with baggage. My 'going-out' are days long gone. I don't want you missing out."
"Aaron." In a way, you could laugh. It tore your heart into pieces he was thinking this way, doubting himself but he was clueless in an adorably, idiotic way. In summary, he simply never gave himself the credit he deserved. "What could I possibly be missing out on?"
"You could be spending your weekends out, socializing, with people closer in age. And yet, you're..." He came up with an example. "Making pillow forts. These are supposed to be the best years of your life. I'm terribly boring in comparison."
"Hey, I make a mean pillow fort."
He gave you a look.
Your hand grabbed his bicep affectionately, clinging onto it as if you were knocking some sense into him. "I chose this. I chose you. Jack is the addition to my life I never knew I needed. And I don't want to be out galavanting bar to night club to bar. I jump at the opportunity to deny a night out to spend it in. With you. When have you ever seen me wanting to go out and party?"
An expression of distaste flashed across your face at the concept, and Aaron's head tilted to the side as he considered your point.Yeah, that was true.
"I'm a homebody. And if there's anything I've realized over the course of the past months, you're my home. You."
Aaron let out the breath he didn't know he was holding.
"I know what I'm in for. And I embrace it with open arms. I want it." Your face was content, even more so than when you were talking with your colleagues. "I love you. And I love the life we're creating. It's so special, beyond my wildest dreams."
"Really?" A boyish, hopeful expression graced his face.
"Really. I wouldn't want it any other way. I can promise you. This- you're everything I could ever want."
Aaron's hand found your thigh, giving it a gentle, loving squeeze. "I love you too, sweetheart."
You beamed in response - you'd never get tired of the words leaving his lips.
"That one guy though," Aaron raised his eyebrows, taking a quick glance at you. Envy began creeping back, "He seemed interested. Wasn't a fan of that."
You scoffed, unbothered. "I'm into men, not boys. Which again, you are the utmost depiction of." Your delightful smirk resurfaced, admirably looking him over. "Believe me, I couldn't be more satisfied."
He wanted to play into your suggestive remarks, but he needed further confirmation. Once more. "You sure?"
"Oh, I'm positive."
Finally satisfied himself, he surrendered, "Okay."
"In fact, I can think of a few ways to show you just how much later."
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strrykais · 2 days
Text
control alt + love [k.seung smau]
12. balls to the face
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"here are your maps, and walkies. we split up in twos, felix and jeongin you head to crow nest, jisung and changbin head to the junkyard." seungmin says looking at the guys.
"minho are you okay with hanging out in the tower at the capital? we need a high vantage point of our flag." he says pointing at the map staring at minho as he nods. "okay chan is staying with the flag defending, ill head to the fort raptor, when you spot their flag don't engage, call for back up."
“remember jongho and mingi are their best shooters so be mindful when you are in open areas, their shots are nasty and accurate. wooyoung is our best bet in capturing if we want to win.” felix says glancing around at the team. everyone gives nods.
“hongjoong and seonghwa arent the best shots but they are fast and good at hand to hand combat to be careful.” minho says looking at jisung.
“whats that look for?” jisung scoffs. “why are they good at this thing?”
“this is how they team bond they do it like once a month with their staff. seungmin and I join from time to time.” minho tells jisung. “dude you literally came to one of these.”
"what about me?" you say side stepping behind minho raising your hand before the two of them could continue.
"you are with me." seungmin says looking at the walkies making sure they are on the right channel. "okay that's everything, remember stay hidden and don't get shot."
you watch as the team disperse seungmin still continuing to look at the map. you walk up next to him trying to glance over his shoulder.
"shorty you are too close. i can feel you on my back." he says glancing over his shoulder
"oh sorry" you say stepping back only for him to turn around walking to you, you slowly step back more but seungmin continues to step at you completely blocking you in when your back hits a tree trunk.
"what are you doing? aren't we supposed to head to fort raptor." you say avoiding eye contact glancing around him.
"im going to fort raptor, you on the other hand, well depends on how you answer this." seungmin says pressing his gun into your lower stomach.
"you gonna shoot me? are you being for real? whats up with this damn team and not having their teammates back?" you say huffing out.
"listen yn, one thing my team does is have each others back. im sorry that the little game you and jeongin were playing didnt go the way you want, but there is something you need to learn and im gonna teach you." seungmin says leaning in, the barrel of the gun digging deeper into your stomach.
"and what is that exactly?" you say trying to seem more cool than you were feeling inside. you couldn't exactly understand what is going on but your heart was racing and you felt like your breathing was erratic.
"teamwork. i know its hard to be heard because you are new, and a girl so you feel like you have to shout. but we, your teammates arent the ones you need to be shouting at. we had your back the moment felix picked you. we had to fight tooth and nail to get hq to even accept the idea of letting a girl on the team. i also understand friends fight its a normal thing to bicker especially with us living together. but what you won't do is belittle your teammates on live game play like that ever again. jeongin can be a lot, trust me i know the kid for 3 years, but sometimes you gotta be the bigger person and either ignore it or talk it out. i don't care that we lost because i knew it. but your fight didn't just effect you and him. it was effecting everyone. your game style change to a selfish one and minho and jisung had to pick up the slack you were pulling. and whatever they couldn’t keep up with, changbin had too pick it up. you caused a chain reaction. do you understand what im trying to say."
seungmin steps back when he notices you havent said anything, lifting your head you stare right at him.
"you are right im sorry, it won't happen again."
"you are right, it won't because ill bench you." he says turning around walking away.
you giggle out at his joke, only for you to stop when you notice he isnt laughing.
"wait you arent serious about benching me?" you say grabbing your gun and calling out after him. seeing him give you a little smirk and a shrug he continues to walk.
"hurry shorty we are behind schedule."
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previous | masterlist | next
a/n : i apologize for the lack in updates.. lwk been having writers block but we are SO BACK ALSO SEUNGMIN CRUMBS when the slow burn is fr a slow burn.... :( how excited are we to have this ball rolling??
tags: @onlyhyunjin @15092000volcano @chenlesfavorite @hippopotamusdreamer @vegetablesarefuntables @soondoongdoriii @jeonginplsholdmyhand @nappynapnaps @sincerely-sun @staytinyluv @kimseungminpabo @seungzsmin @sweetasmarie @hinanitiram @tricky-ritz @ayyonoona @hanniemylovelyquokka @toplinehyunjin @missystay @binniesbabe @tirena1 @jihoons-kitten @skz-ot8-stay @darlingz99 @khandzilla @icouldntcareless22 @rihaee @kikieatsfood23 @hvnverse
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sturn-saturn · 17 hours
Text
just this once
pairing; fem!reader x bf!matt
warnings: cooch eating <3
a/n: im LITERALLY writing this as im in class LMAOO sorry if it sucks. writing a fanfic in class is crazy.
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one thing you and the triplets knew was school fucking sucked. it sucked absolute balls. your dream since you were younger was to be in the medical field and here you are. you're currently in med school majoring in nursing but thankfully this biology course is offered online.
you woke up this morning absolutely exhausted but this class was only 90 minutes so you weren't complaining too much. you were just hoping this would be the quickest 90 minutes of your life.
matt wakes up pretty early as well but his brothers on the other hand love sleeping in. matt usually stayed in the living room while you're in your virtual class. matt lets you use his desk, which gives you the space to focus and just get through the class.
you're currently on the call and you were just exhausted, dozing off, staring off, picking at your cuticles, twirling your hair, you name it. your elbow was on the desk and your head was leaning on your hand until you hear a creak.
you turn to your right and you see your boyfriend peeking through the door. you give him a deadpan look because he knows how easily distracted you are especially when he's around.
luckily your professor doesn't mind if your camera is off as long as you're participating in class. "matt, what are you doing?"
"i'm bored, hungry, and theres nothing on netflix." he explains walking further into his room.
"babe, you know i have a class."
"i know, i know." he whispers walking to you and kissing your head. "are you almost done? i'm hungry."
"god we really need to get you and your brothers into a cooking class."
"honey, i know how to cook. i just choose not to cause i love when you cook, you put so much love into it."
"oh you know how to cook, huh? that salmon you tried to cook the other day says otherwise." you laugh. "i'll be done soon don't worry."
"but i'm hungry now." he whines. "you know what, fuck it."
matt pulls the desk chair away from his desk and sneaks under so hes on his knees facing you.
"m-matt. what are you doing i'm in class!" you yell.
"cameras off, i'm hungry, i'm taking advantage of this." he smirks looking up at you. “you need to keep quiet, sweetheart. can you do that for me?”
“yes.” you breathe out. matt begins to pull your panties down and kisses your inner thigh softly while holding eye contact.
your professor was talking at this point and the only thing you heard come out of his mouth was living organisms. “ms. y/l/n could you explain further?”
“fuck” you mouth looking at matt.
he pulls away from between you and gives you a smirk. “well ms. y/l/n? explain further.”
you unmute the zoom call and do everything you can to refrain from moaning. “a living organism is anything that has life and consists of cells as its basic unit of organization like t-trees, animals, algae, b-bacteria, as well as humans of course.”
“correct, thank you ms.y/l/n.” your professor announces.
you go back on mute and you look down at matt and spread your legs wider to give him access. he taps your legs so you can put your feet on the arms of his chair.
“you’re such a good girl.” matt whispers.
“mmmm” you hum
“and…you…taste…so…good.” he says in between kisses to your clit.
“matt, quit teasing.”
“say please.” with a deadpan look.
“matt, please quit teasing.”
with that, be inserts a finger and your head falls back into the chair. he trusts in and out until you’re a mess. “what you didn’t realize was you and your professor were the only ones left in the call.
“y/n, are there any questions you had for today?” you professor asks.
you almost jump out of your seat when you heard your name from the screen in front of you.
you quickly unmute yourself, “no, professor, great lecture today, looking forward to next week!” you ramble on before you end the call.
“fuck i’m looking forward to getting inside you. get on the bed, sweetheart.” you boyfriend says with a husky voice.
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tag list:
@sturniolos4life16 @hoeforchrizz @luckyscharms @emely9274 @chrispotatos @weirdratperson @simpson12 @ilovemenwithlonghairr @angeldvstee @pussypie456 @valentinasturniolo @khalei-20 @cravingchrissturniolo @wonnieeluvvr @flouvela
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beomiracles · 2 days
Text
⌞ 𝐒𝟐 𝐄𝐏 𝟒 ⌝
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DREAM RECALL ⸝⸝ His fingers grasp your chin and reality slowly seeps back into your clouded mind. He was a complete stranger, you didn’t even know his name. It somehow excited you. It was the thrill your mundane life lacked, it was what your husband failed to provide you with. But this man, this stranger, he was ready to give you everything and more as his eyes hungirly roam your body, hands moving along your sides before sliding down your thighs to push your dress up. ⸝⸝
wc: 3.2k
pairings taehyun x fem!reader warnings infidelity, age-gap, strangers to ???, Taehyun is 22 & reader is referred to be around her mid-thirties, reader is slightly insecure, semi-public sex, unprotected + creampie, vaginal fingering, marking, kissing, hm hm hm let me know if I missed something !!
#serene speaks ✎... hii hii !! this is heavily inspired by one scene from the show 'Good Girls' eheh, because I'm rewatching it right now !! like I love Rio and Beth you don't get it. anyway, I'm not claiming this plot/idea as my own in any way shape or form, but you do not have to have seen the show to read this :3 this is horribly proofread on my part but my dear Izzy looked through it for me so fear not !!
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The glass is cold beneath your fingers, the rim resting against your lips, waiting on you to take another sip. You do. The liquor burns your throat, it adds to the light buzz, the tingle of your body. — Chatter surrounds you, it’s everywhere but you can’t seem to pick up on it. The bar is beyond crowded, and so is your small table, placed in an ocean of others. Some guests are merely tipsy, others are on the verge of passing out. 
Your gaze shifts to the man in front of you, your husband. He keeps on talking and talking, somehow overpowering the murmur around you. His monotone voice makes you tick, the small wedge between his bushy eyebrows, the insistent moving of his lips, the pools of nothing swirling behind his eyes. Not a single comprehensive thought roamed that brain of his. 
You knew that he was cheating. You’d be a fool not to. The lipstick on his fingers, some smudging on the collar of his white shirt. His uneven hair and flushed cheeks, not to mention the constant talking, a distraction, as if he was still trying to cover for himself. — He must think you’re stupid. But you’re not. You’ve known for a while now. You just haven’t decided on how to pursue, decided on a suitable approach. 
Divorce was always an option, but what about your kids? They love their daddy. — You take another sip, swishing the alcohol on your tongue before swallowing. Perhaps you’d guilt trip him... — “Babe, are you listening?” He still called you that, it was despicable, you weren’t in high school anymore. You blink, painting on a small smile, the same smile you’d been wearing for the past ten years. 
“Sorry, you said something about your upcoming sales?” 
His face lights up, like a kid on Christmas, eager to tell you about things he thought you had no clue of, things he didn’t think you’d understand. He belittled you, almost everyday, and you were sick of it. — He begins rambling once more, he’s bound to be occupied for another five minutes, so you let your eyes wander. They scan the crowded bar, people leaning over the countertop to get their order across. 
Then suddenly, he leans back, easily parting himself from the rest, if only for a split second. The black shirt clung to his chest, sleeves rolled up to expose his near delectable forearms. He was young, at least ten years your junior. But he’d caught your eye the whole night. His gaze meets yours, dark eyes twinkling under the dim lights as he sends you a near unnoticeable smirk, just the faint tug of his lips, nothing else. His attention momentarily shifts over to your obnoxious man of a husband, but you don’t stray from him. 
“..And so if we put the Honda for sale, I’m sure it’ll attract far more…Babe?” Your husband leans forward, blocking the view of the stranger before you. Internally groaning, your wide eyes quickly snap back to him, “sorry darling, my mind’s all over the place.” Your husband nods, and his hand reaches for yours, you notice that he isn’t wearing his wedding ring. “Should we go home?” He asks the question like any other in the world, but it lacks any kind of sincerity. 
Brushing past him, your attention returns to the guy by the bar, he was talking to someone, but his eyes would shift to your table ever so often, an almost knowing look on his face. “Yes”, you bring the cold glass to your lips once more, downing the beverage in one go, “I’ll just go freshen up.” 
Without waiting for a response, you rise, swinging your small bag over your shoulder as you push your chair in. Your husband looks confused, though he quickly nods, murmuring something about waiting out in the car. But you pay the man you’d devoted fifteen years of your life to, little mind, instead you head for the bathrooms with long and determined strides. 
The room is small, cramped, and as the door shuts behind you with an awkward squeak, you lean onto the sink, gripping its edges tightly as you regard your reflection in the dirty mirror. With a shaky exhale you place your bag down on the cool surface, unzipping it as you reach for your lipstick, carefully reapplying the gloss across your lips. Resisting the urge to splash cold water all over your heated face, you run a hand through your hair. 
You think about your husband, and for a moment guilt gnaws at the corners of your mind. But the longer you picture his face, the lies, the betrayal. — The better you feel about yourself. 
You swallow, your throat suddenly feels dry, and a small bead of sweat forms on your forehead. Fingers drumming against the white porcelain, you count the seconds in your head, your mouth moving silently. — Thirty-five, thirty-six, thirty-seven..
Click. 
The door glides open, and a tall shadow slinks inside. He closes the door behind him, hands digging into the pockets of his black jeans as he watches you expectantly. Through the reflection of the mirror, everything is okay, but as you turn around, coming face to face with him for the first time tonight, your breath gets stuck in your throat. Fuck, he was really young, 21? 22? 
You bite the inside of your cheek, briefly hesitating. But he didn’t. He watches you with the same expression he had been all night, unmoving to the untrained eye, but you could clearly catch the glint in his gaze, the desire radiating off of him. You wouldn’t back down now. — So you take a step forward, one is enough to put you against him, chests brushing one another. 
He doesn’t say anything when you reach a hand out, fingers clasping around the lock of the door behind him as you seal the two of you away from the rest of the world. — Your soft exhale fans across his face, the smirk on his lips spreading, exposing sharp teeth. Part of you wants to break the silence, another part of you wants it to go on forever. 
You’re frozen, because in truth, you hadn’t planned for anything further than this. But he doesn’t seem to mind, an almost gentle look playing on his features as he draws closer, large hands finding their way to the back of your thighs as he runs them along your clothed skin. — Your dress is long, reaching all the way to your knees, certainly not what the twenty-something girls wore, but he didn’t seem to mind that either as he carefully bunches the fabric up. 
He takes a step forward and you take one back, you don’t even realize how far you’ve gotten until your now exposed skin hits the cold porcelain and you emit a small gasp. The sound rings out in the silent room, echoing off its walls almost melodically. — He huffs, and in one swift move, he hikes you up onto the cool sink. 
The determination of his movements make your panties dampen in a way they hadn’t for years. In all honesty you couldn’t even remember the last time you and your husband had sex, it might have been sometime before your youngest was born.. You tried to shake the uncomfortable thoughts away but it seemed impossible. Your hands roam his shoulders and the fine outline of his toned chest, he was everything your husband wasn’t. 
And you…You were everything they weren’t, the twenty-something girls. Would he even like you? — Sure beauty was subjective but would he hesitate when he saw the stretch marks on your belly? The dip of your hips, the plush of your thighs, your body worn out after birthing four children. Would he be disgusted? Would he back out? 
His fingers grasp your chin and reality slowly seeps back into your clouded mind. He was a complete stranger, you didn’t even know his name. It somehow excited you. It was the thrill your mundane life lacked, it was what your husband failed to provide you with. But this man, this stranger, he was ready to give you everything and more as his eyes hungirly roam your body, hands moving along your sides before sliding down your thighs to push your dress up. 
You shiver. Whether that was from the fresh air hitting your now naked skin or the anticipation swirling in the pits of your stomach, you didn’t know. His gaze searches yours as his fingers brush the lining of your panties, as if looking for doubt, but he only finds lust, and he smirks. — Your husband rarely touches you, and especially not like this, not intimately. You often thought that you might have been the problem, but as the man before you leans in to press a tender kiss to the skin of your shoulder, you find that it’s not. 
A small part of you wants to ask his name, his age, anything, even the slightest bit of information about him. But the unknown felt good, ignorance really was bliss. It was better this way, you tell yourself. Less strings attached, and it wasn’t like you were ever going to see this man again. You were doing something for yourself, for you. 
He dips a tentative hand beneath the soft cotton of your underwear, fingers experimentally swiping across your soaked cunt as he parts your folds. He has yet to pull away, to change his mind, and you internally sigh out in relief. — Your head falls forward, hands gripping his broad shoulders as you exhale against his neck. 
You catch him softly humming and mere moments later, the pad of his thumb presses against your throbbing clit and a small moan rolls off your tongue. You could barely remember the last time you’d even touched yourself. With four children and a cheating husband who stayed out late, alone time was near sacred. You were pretty damn sure it showed. 
The way he was touching you felt good, way too good, and you resist the urge to squeeze your thighs around his arm. — Just as his lips trace the shell of your ear does he push a finger deep into your core, drawing a breathless gasp from you as he curls said finger, almost immediately brushing past a part of you that had been kept stowed away for so long. 
The buzzing sensation the alcohol had left you with was nothing compared to the fire currently taking to life within you. And all you could think was: why hadn’t you done this sooner? Why had you denied yourself of the pleasure your husband has so liberally been granting himself for the past year. 
Your husband…
He was waiting for you in the car. Time was not on your side, and any other day, you would have been freaked out. Not today. Today your mind is set on one thing alone. — Feverish hands claw at his shirt as you urge him on, the second finger he’d added wasn’t enough, you needed more, and a lot of it. He complies almost immediately, a small grin splayed across his face as he yanks your panties down your legs. You wondered if he let the twenty-something girls boss him around like this too. 
Your neck feels damp, covered in his wet kisses, rough enough to where they’d surely discolor your skin. The idea of your husband seeing it was thrilling. But before you get to ponder said scenario further, he’s got you on your feet once more, spinning your around to face the mirror. Immediately you shy away from your reflection in the glass. The thought of seeing yourself like this, bent over the sink of a public bathroom in a random bar like some cheap fuck.. The idea was far from enticing. 
His hand is on your lower back as he guides you down, the other one trailing along your arm before reaching your neck. Fingers splayed across your throat, he encourages your head back up and your eyes flutter at the action. — And when they open, you find him already watching you through the reflection, lips pulled into the same smirk he’d been wearing the whole night. 
Suddenly, it felt okay again. 
The sound of his zipper being undone sends a small spark of excitement through your already anticipating body. — Leaning forward, he presses a warm kiss to your shoulder blade, firm chest meeting the slight arch of your back and the head of his cock nudges your nearly pleading cunt. 
Your fingers grip the porcelain tight, knuckles fading to match its pale color, making the wedding ring on your hand a stark contrast. You exhale, gaze flickering up to meet his through the reflection. Dark hair falls down onto his forehead, shielding his face from view until he looks up. — With a soft grunt, the hand previously on your back now resting against the curve of your waist, he pushes himself inside with one swift thrust. 
The feeling is familiar yet completely foreign and you gasp at the stretch, your cunt clenching around him almost immediately. He gives a small sigh, head falling to the crook of your neck once more as his hand travels from your throat and down your chest, getting a handful of your tits as he squeezes them through the light blouse you wore. 
He moves slowly at first, taking his time as he gauges your every reaction. From the twitch of your lips to the sickeningly sweet moans that he managed to draw. — But you both quickly realize that it’s far from enough. And it’s not long until his hips are snapping against yours with a force strong enough to make your eyes roll back. 
To be touched like this. To be craved like this. It was like a part of you, once long forgotten, had been awakened all over again. Your life before your scumbag of a husband, your life before the lies, the cheating, the must’s and the do’s. — It was your life before soccer practice with the kids every tuesday, it was life before turning in at 10pm each night, it was life before slaving away in the kitchen as you scrambled to feed your family. 
This. This was your life. Only you and this mere stranger, a mere stranger who made you feel like yourself again. — His cock buried deep within your throbbing cunt, twitching with your every persistent clench of arousal. Biting down on your bottom lip, you try to muffle the noises of pleasure waiting on your tongue, the thin walls of the small bathroom would surely give you away. 
Your knees feel weak, legs wobbling with each thrust of his, and if it hadn't been for his arm snaked around your waist, you would’ve been on the floor moments ago. — Your eyes get caught on him, his large frame towering over you from behind, broad shoulders spreading out above yours; biceps flexing through the material of his dark shirt. His breath is hot against your neck, coming out in heavy pants and faint grunts as his lips nip at your sweaty skin.  
You didn’t know his name. But he still made you feel things you hadn’t felt in forever. He made you feel sexy. Desirable. Like there was more to you than the sad house-wife who obliviously lets her husband cheat on her. 
When you finish on his cock, it doesn’t feel at all like it had with your husband, with the man you had devoted your life to. No, it felt better. Like this was how it was supposed to have been all along. It feels euphoric, like you’re floating, nothing was real and nothing mattered. Then suddenly, you want to kiss him. — Craning your neck slightly, a trembling hand unlatching from the sink as your fingers entangle in his dark hair, you pull his face to meet yours. 
Was this a bad idea? Was kissing taking it too far? Were you about to cross a boundary you couldn’t revert back from. It didn’t matter, you didn’t care, and neither did he. 
His lips are soft as they move eagerly against your own. It’s not like the quick pecks you and your husband shares before he leaves for work, before he leaves for someone else. Your kisses with your husband are solemn, melancholy, and almost chore-like. This was anything but. It felt like your first kiss all over. Hot but tentative, clumsy but absolutely perfect. 
He groans into your mouth, the sound vibrating on your tongue and you resist a small moan. Then he tries to pull back, but you don’t want him to, he can’t. Your fingers in his hair keeps him close, and with a soft hum he complies. Hips jerking forward one last time before his warm release shot up into your spent cunt. It felt like something you definitely shouldn’t be doing. Perhaps that was why you did it. 
You finally felt in control. 
As he pulls out, tucking himself back into his dark jeans, you realize that you had yet to speak a word to each other. The silence had been a minimal obstacle just moments prior but now…You wonder if you should break it. But what would you say to him? “Thank you?” You almost scoffed. 
His large hands on your legs startle you from your thoughts and it takes you a second to realize that he’s pulling your panties back on. The garment is beyond drenched as it sticks to you uncomfortably. — He’s close, so close that you can feel his warm breath caress your flushed cheeks. He exhales, eyes finding yours in the dim light of the small bathroom. Then he smiles, it’s not the previous smirk that had originally drawn you in, but a genuine smile. 
“Taehyun.” 
His voice is low, the name effortlessly rolling off his tongue and you blink dumbfoundedly at him before realizing that he’d just introduced himself. Feeling your face redden even further, you clear your throat before following his lead and doing the same. — Taehyun leads you out of the restrooms, ignoring the glances sent by the multiple people in line as his hand rests on your lower back. 
The cold air causes goosebumps to ripple across your skin the moment you step out onto the parking lot. Taking a small step back, Taehyun’s eyes roam the multitude of cars lined up, you do the same, eventually finding the familiar one amongst the crowd. After glancing back and forth awkwardly, you finally bid farewell to him, barely managing to catch the subtle wink he shot you. 
The car door slams shut and with a heavy sigh you slump against the leather seat, finally feeling the evening’s events catch up to you. — “What took you so long?” The annoyingly monotone voice of your husband rings out into the thick air and you’re thankful for the darkness of the night as you roll your eyes. “Long line”, you mumble. 
Your husband hums as the engine comes to life. “And who was that?” He adds, sending a small nod in the direction of Taehyun’s figure, leaning against the brick wall of the bar as he takes slow drags from a cigarette. — You shrug, feigning ignorance as you rub your thighs together, the dampness between them an evident memory of what had taken place just minutes earlier. 
“A friend of a friend”, you sigh, letting your gaze wander out the window as you pull out of the parking lot. “Yeah?” Your husband mutters, “what’s his name?” — You smile, shrugging the question off as you settle back into your seat. 
“I haven't got a clue.” 
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verstappentime · 3 days
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divorce verse for your wednesday <3 this is from after max & dan break up. (the rest of this verse is here) (the scene previous to this will get finished but this is what i have today <3) The first night Daniel’s gone, Max walks into a fucking wall trying to go to the bathroom.
It’s happened before, because his depth perception is awful and worse in the dark and worse sometimes than others, but usually he hits knee-first or something. Nope, just a wall right to the orbital bone. 
It’s not something Daniel could have saved him from, but it still doesn’t make it any easier. Daniel’s not there to be woken up by his cursing a blue streak and ask if he’s alright, to sit him down and put ice on it and make him feel less pathetic.
His head is throbbing, in a normal person kind of way. He’s going to have a massive goose egg. He finally gets to the light switch, very, very carefully, and tempts himself to go down the hall with the promise of crying about it afterward.
It’s easier, with the bedroom light illuminating the way. He makes it there and back okay. 
He needs to not call Daniel, but he’s groggy and worked up and he gets confused at night and– he’s just going to lose it if he can’t talk to someone. 
Daniel picks up on the first ring. He must still have Max excluded from do not disturb. Must be sleeping with the ringer on.
“I walked into the wall,” he says, before Daniel can get anything out. 
“What?” He can hear Daniel sitting up, sheets rustling. He should be scolding Max for calling in the middle of the night. He doesn’t. “Are you hurt?” 
“I hit my head. Or, like, my face. Both.” Max touches where the bruise is forming on his head. He kind of forgot what hurt that’s not coming from the inside feels like. He pokes it again. He’s lucky he hit on bone, probably, and that it wasn’t a corner and he’s not bleeding. “I don’t know,” he says, voice cracking. 
“Okay.” Daniel’s all calm. This kind of stuff never bothers him. Max wants him to be here. “You sound alright. You weren’t, like, running, right? Do you have a headache?”  “No. I think– I think I am okay.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, just to see how bad it hurts. “This is shit, Daniel.”
“We need to get you some of those lights you can turn on with your voice, yeah? I’ll look in the morning.” We. He’s going to have to stop that. Not right now.
“I can– I’ll do it.” 
“I’ll remind you, then. What do you want to do right now?” 
“I don’t know,” Max says again. “I don’t want to get up again.” He presses his knuckles to his teeth, something awful in his chest. “I feel shit that I called you already.” 
“I don’t care. It’s good you did. I was scared that you wouldn’t. Makes me feel better.” Daniel pauses. “Not that I’m like, glad you walked into a wall.” 
“It sounds very stupid when you say it out loud.” He knows it’s his fault, but he can’t help it: “What am I going to do? Just call you always?” 
“You can, baby.” Daniel never tells him no. Daniel let him leave because he never tells him no. “You have other people, though. They’ll be happy to answer. You can call your mum or Victoria or Charles. But also me, if you want to.” 
Max wants Daniel to tell him that’s unfair. But the idea of being cut off from the only person that really knows what it’s like for him makes him want to throw up. Charles would laugh at him for this one, even though he wouldn’t mean to. Max says, “I think I want to go back to sleep.” 
“Good idea. You want me to stay on?” 
“No. That will be very boring for you.” Max lays down, turning over on his side, his back to where Daniel should be. “Are you sleeping too?” 
“Yeah, Maxy, I’m going to.” 
“Okay. Then we will both go to sleep.” 
“Yeah,” Daniel says, all gentle. “I’m going to text you tomorrow, okay? It’s okay if you don’t want to talk to me after that. But I’ll remind you about the lights and ask about your face.” 
“That’s fine.” He can’t know if he’ll remember, and he really does not want this to happen again, and– and now he knows for sure he’ll hear from Daniel tomorrow. 
There’s a beat where neither of them know what to say, but Daniel’s the bravest and he says, “I love you. Goodnight.” 
“I– Me too, Daniel.” He can’t lie. Not about that.
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just-a-ghost00 · 3 days
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Do you stand a chance with this person?
If you're feeling a bit lost about a connection and where this is going, we'll try to see if this is worth your time and energy. Pick one of the following emojis : 1🕷️  2🎃 3🦇
Group 1 - Pink Spider ~
9 of cups, Justice, The Sun, Hierophant, The Star
Well, this looks pretty good for you group 1. Not only do you stand a chance but the outcome could be even better than what you ever dreamed of. This person thinks and feels positively towards you. Their intentions are genuine and serious. They want to do right by you. This connection has potential for a succesful committed relationship. With the Star card, I get the feeling that it may take a while before you come into union with this person, especially if there is an important physical distance between you. Little TMI : the song linked to your group is from Japanese artist Hide (X-Japan). This song is a metaphorical one. It talks about a pink spider whose perception of the world is narrowed down to its web, the web representing the lies it tells itself or told by others. Looking at the sky from the web, it wishes for wings that it doesn't have. It is afraid to take risks and get hurt, but by looking at the butterflies and birds soaring high, the spider still envies them. One day a bird flying by, seeing the sad spider, advises it to take a butterfly's wings and come fly with them. Though this is going to hurt the butterfly, the spider desperately wanting to fly takes the wings, appologizing for its deeds. "It's not that I want to hurt you, but I don't have wings and that sky is just so high..." says the spider. To which the butterfly answers "you can take my wings, but you'll find out soon enough that flying isn't as easy as you'd think". As expected, though having the butterfly wings, the spider still can't fly. Still looking at the sky, the spider sees the birds immigrating to the South flying by its web. The end of the song is a bit confusing. The lyrics are "ano kumo ga toori sugita" and the word kumo can both be translated as cloud or spider. So the meaning of the lyrics could either be "I wanna go over to those clouds" and in this case this would be the spider's thoughts. But it could also be translated as "I wanna go over that spider" which in this case would be from the bird's POV. For some reason I felt like talking about the lyrics translation of that song would be relevant.
Confirmation signs : ladybugs, flowers, doves, books, trees, distance, social media, Leo, Taurus, Aquarius, Libra, starry skies, goats, letter S
Group 2 - This is Halloween...
6 of cups , knight of pentacles, 6 of swords, king of wands, 9 of wands
You could stand a chance with this person however this would take a lot of effort and patience from both sides. There's a lot to heal for this connection to be fruitful. There would definitely be chemistry and passion but there would also be a lot of challenges and tensions if you were to pursue this connection right now. It would be best to work on yourselves prior to being together. But what you do is up to you. This connection would potentially require you to leave a connection or situation. If you pay attention to the song related to your group, there's an underlying energy of fear and tricky energies. It's like a lot of frightening things are lurking in the shadows and to be able to fully enjoy the journey, you have to be able to overcome your fears and tame the demons hiding under the bed, the ghosts of the past trying to haunt you and so on. Also, this song happens at a kind of masquerade / parade where all spooky creatures are playing games and hiding behind masks, especially Jack Skellington who pretends that he enjoys his role in the community when he is thriving for something different and new. So this could be relevent to your situation with this person.
Confirmation signs : repeating 6s, earth signs, fire signs, books, religious people, clouds,
Group 3 - For Gotham !
7 of swords, King of swords, Hierophant, Tower, Ace of cups
To be honest, your chances are thin. I can't say no. But I can't say yes either. I feel like this person would love to be in a romantic relationship with you. But they are so scared about the idea that it seems impossible for them to welcome you in their life. With the 7 of swords and the King of swords, I get the impression of someone doing everything in their power to hide their true thoughts. Someone deliberately lying and acting unkind to somehow protect the other from their shadows. Maybe they struggle with mental health issues and they don't want you to witness the mess they're in. They don't want to let you in. I feel like losing you because of who they are would shatter them. So they put up a wall between you. The Batman reference was no coincidence. I intuitively picked up on it before I proceeded with the reading. This person really gives me Bruce Wayne vibes. They pretend like all is fine when they're falling and their world is in ruins. They love you but they would rather die than let you know. They would rather you believed you were insignificant to them so you could move on in your life and be happy without them because they don't think they have what it takes to make you happy, no matter how successful they can be in life.
Confirmation signs : flowers, nightingales, churches, wings, air signs, Taurus, dragons, sea shells, lotus flower
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liyatime · 2 days
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“ spread your legs ” . . | ˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆。˚ (enjoy!)
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📷 pairing ; mark lee x tm!reader
📷 genre ; smut
📷 cw ; male x transmale/cuntboy intercourse , cursing , kissing , cunnilingus , fingering , c in v sex , vaginal descriptions , raw sex (wrap it before you tap it!)
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mark lee , one of the smartest kids on your college campus not only happened to be a top student but he was also your boyfriend of a strong 3 years.
he spoils you so much you dont even know it like buying your lunches for you , paying for your dorm rent , and all around spending a ton of money on you. mark also spoils you by taking you on car rides , he drives you multiple places without asking for gas money and often takes you on trips , like today. he called you out to the parking lot during a fairly busy day saying that he wanted to eat out with you.
you walked out the college building with your tote bag on your shoulder that was filled to the brim with books and your laptop. you were on your phone looking for places nearby to eat at when you looked up and saw mark’s navy blue hooded convertible and him waving at you.
you did a light jog towards his car and leaned onto it giving him a peck on the lips. “i didn’t bother you? calling you out of class like this?” he asked unlocking the car. you walked around to the passenger side and got in , “not at all , i’d tell you if it was a problem. honestly i’m kinda glad i got out of there.” you said smiling. he smiled back and started up the car , “i found a place already, it’s not far from here.” mark said , backing up his car and getting on the road.
on the way to the place mark picked out you guys joked around and laughed , talked about school stuff (which was honestly kind of boring) and listened to music. both your music tastes were diverse but you guys enjoyed critiquing each others choices. you guys also looked at the menu of the place and decided ahead of time what you guys should order , most of the options looked delicious but what matters is how it tasted , mark's the only person who's been here before so he told you to wait and that it'd be a surprise.
the both of you soon arrived at a restaurant-type establishment , with the awkward name of it that you couldn't pronounce it must've been french or italian or something.. but before you could step out of the car mark grabbed your hand and locked the doors , "hold on.. i gotta tell you something," he paused and put his fist over his mouth before trying to explain "— i actually brought you here for something else." he said with nervousness in his voice , "you know we haven't been able to like.. do it because were busy , so i brought you to this uh.. place , because if we did it on the college campus a lot of people would find out and i really wanted to try car sex and i didnt know how to tell you and like—" "mark. it's fine , you could've just told me." you said laughing, "you're such a nervous wreck when it comes to sex like we haven't done it before , but in a car? im excited." you said.
"so this is okay? You're right though , i should've just told you.." mark facepalmed. "I told you its fine mark , if anything you made me really horny , having sex in a parking lot feels exciting." he blushed at your words. "really?" "yeah!" you replied "we should.. get in the backseat then right?" he asked. "yeah.." you two were awkward about this , but mostly mark because he thought you'd think he was weird and gross for wanting to have sex in public and tell everyone on campus , so now that you admitted it made you horny he got excited and was ready to fuck you so bad. mark and you lowered the front seats forward so you'd have more room in the back and then hopped in , immediately jumping to making out.
mark ran his hands all over your body , but he was OBSESSED with your waist , he loved holding it especially when he felt jealous or possessive. you smiled as you kissed him. you both slowly moved into a laying position as he unbuckled your belt and unbuttoned your jeans to gain access to your pussy through your boxers. he threw your jeans on the center console along with your belt and and began rubbing your clit through your boxers , feeling how wet you've gotten in the past minute. you moaned and held onto the door behind you , "fuckkk..." you stretched out the word at the feeling of him toying with you , slightly lifting your hips. he soon removed your boxers and looked at the color of your pussy , admiring how it looked when it was soaked in your juices. he placed his hands at the back of your knees and pressed your legs to your chest then licked a stripe up your cunt and placed a wet kiss onto your clit.
you cried out in pleasure. whenever mark ate you out it was amazing , you're the first partner he's ever had with a vagina but he knew exactly what to do. he must've been studying up for your sake. top student on campus , top student at eating pussy. "is this good?" he said , rubbing his thumb up and down your folds. "yeah.. keep going.." you responded out of breath from moaning. mark reached over to his glove box in the front and pulled out a packet of lube , ripping it open with his teeth and spreading it all over your cunt and his fingers. "take a deep breath (m/n).." he said , sliding his middle finger into you slowly and thrusting it in and out. you threw your head back and gripped the door handle , moaning out your boyfriends name and whimpering. "it's alright baby , i got you." he said , leaning over and giving a tender kiss in which you melted into.
mark inserted a second finger into your sopping cunt , "you're so fucking wet.." he said before dipping down and having a make out session with your clit , running his tongue over it and flicking it with his tongue. "mark im gonna cum.." you said biting your lip and putting your hand in his hair. this only made him suck on your clit harder and faster. you couldn't take the pleasure anymore and came so hard , a clear liquid shot out your pussy and onto mark's face and seats. he slid his two fingers side to side on your cunt as you let loose and immediately went back to eating you out. you were so sensitive and he was so hungry.
mark lifted his head back up and started unbuckling his belt and discarding it , taking the rest of the lube in the packet and spreading it all over his cock. he looked at you like he was a fox and you were the rabbit he couldn't wait to devour , his cheeks were red and he was sweating from his forehead. he slid his cock over your clit and between your folds and gave you a hard kiss , rubbing his tongue against yours and pulling on your bottom lip with his teeth. "mark.." you said , reaching your hand forward and rubbing his cock again your entrance. he smirked and took his cock , slowly sliding it into your entrance. your eyes rolled back but before you could let out a moan he took it out teasingly. you honestly werent having it. "put it in..!" you said , rubbing your clit and looking into his eyes. he laughed and inserted his tip back into your cunt , doing this a couple more times until he snapped his hips against yours and started thrusting into you at a fast pace.
mark replaced your fingers rubbing your clit with his thumb as you moaned his name and let out a whimper each time his hips met yours. the only noises in the car were grunting and the sound of skin slapping against skin. "fuckkk (m/n).." he groaned. he watched as your eyes rolled back into your head and you lifted your hips up so his thrusts were angled directly towards your prostate , your head fell onto the car seat and you gripped his arms. "im gonna fucking cum!" you exclaimed. "fuckin' squirt again for me.." mark commanded , after he said that you immediately squirted all over his dick as he pulled out and rubbed your clit. he then put his cock back into your pussy to help you ride out your high. "s..shit.." he stuttered , pulling his dick out and cumming all over your glistening cunt with his mouth wide open. mark was panting and so you , you were both wet and sweaty making the car smell like sex. he'll definitely need to air out the car and buy air fresheners for future purposes.
mark leaned down and made out with you , tracing the sides of your face with his palm and holding you by your waist. "we need to have car sex more often.." he said smiling. you giggled at his joke and held him close , eventually having to let go. "we should go to our dorm and get new clothes.. they're really wet.." you said. "Lets go." he agreed , giving you one last peck on your cheek before putting his soaked clothes back on just for the ride back.
lets hope nobody questions why he smells like that when he walks through the halls.
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c/n: HI IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK LONGER THAN I SAID TO PUT OUT! my job has me busy and im still buying furniture for my home , im going for a modern look so i gotta save up and work hard to get what i want!! i noticed i improved in my writing, especially when writing smut because i used to skip the prep parts and it was so bad 😭 . im a virgin so writing smut is a struggle but im always on tumblr so reading others smut fics and studying up on anatomy and how sex like WORKS was a big help to me. i still suck at dialogue but practice makes almost perfect! i hope you guys enjoy this work more than my others, cuz they really suck lol. 💙
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Hii! First off, I LOVE your writing.
Secondly, what if during a movie night w/the demon brothers, (bc I am convinced they have them...) they (unknowingly) pick a movie that stars MC. What would each of their reactions be? Could you also do one with the undateables too?
Thx for reading! <3
Heyyyy I wrote your request as a group story because it's thought it's easier than writing for each brother individually. As for the other guys there will be a part two coming soon. Enjoy!
Summary: The brothers and MC are having a movie night and they find out that MC is one of the actors in it.
You can find more of my work here: Masterlist
GN!MC
The brothers' reactions to MC being an actor in a movie
It was a peaceful night in the Devildom. There weren't many hardships during the day and all the brothers were pretty energetic. The eldest wasn't preoccupied with too much work so he was planning on spending the night with a glass of demonus and the sound of record playing in the background while relaxing on the comfortable sofa in his study. All of a sudden though MC along with the rest of the brothers burst through the door of the study just as he was choosing the perfect record for the night. Lucifer shot them a look of tiredness and question before crossing his arms at his chest.
Mammon: Yo, Lucifer! Ya in mood for a movie night? We haven't had those in a while. Whatcha say?
Asmo: Yep <3. I just looove watching a movie while cuddling with someone. Can I pleaseeee cuddle you, Lucifer?
Satan: Guys why don't we just watch it ourselves? Why do we need Lucifer there?
Beel while nibbling on some food: Because... Num.. num num.. we're.. num.. num.. a family, Satan.
Satan rolled his eyes and leaned on the wall behind him.
Satan: Whatever.
Lucifer: Hm.. a movie night you say? We certainly haven't had those in a while... But...
Upon hearing the word "But" MC looked up at the eldest with the most pleading puppy eyes they could manage.
MC: Come ooon, Lucifeeerrr. Pleaseee?
Asmo along with MC: Please~?
Lucifer sighing: Fine, I'll come. But Asmo, my cuddles are reserved for MC. So I'd appreciate it if you keep your distance.
---
Everyone are sitting in the living room, in front of the TV. Satan is passing through the list of movies the brothers have stored in "to watch"
Satan: How about this one? It's a murder documentary.
Asmo shot Satan with an "are you serious?" look before tilting his head to the side and putting a hand over his eyes dramatically.
Asmo: Are you insane, Satan? Please get this out of my sight!! The image of.. blood alone gives me the chills...
Levi: As far as I know you are the only one in the house that enjoys watching this type of thing, Satan.
Satan: That's not true! MC watches them with me all the time.
Belphie: Do they enjoy it though? Or are they doing it out of politeness?
Lucifer: Or perhaps they pity him for watching the documentaries alone so they decide to tag along.
Satan: Lucifer, shut up. I'm not pitiful unlike a certain someone with their classical music obsession.
Lucifer's eyes darken and his gaze pierced through the back of Satan's head.
Lucifer: Satan.
MC gently pokes Lucifer's bicep, signaling him to calm down.
MC: Guys, let's not fight. It's a family movie night!
Beel: Yeah. MC is right.
Mammon pointing at the screen: How 'bout that one? It's some kind of fantasy and horror mix or somethin'. Sounds great to me!
Satan: Yeah. That's not a bad choice either. Should we watch this?
Levi: Yeah. Looks good.
Mammon: Yo Asmo! Ya ain't squeamish about this as well are ya?
Asmo: Well this one doesn't look as bad as the murder documentary. Let's give it a go.
Satan clicks the play button and sits back on the couch. Though what he doesn't expect is to feel someone snuggling against him. He looks down and his eyes widen upon seeing Asmo getting comfortable on his older brother's chest.
Satan: Asmodeus! I never allowed you to snuggle against me!
Asmo: Awwhh come ooonn, Saaataaannn!! What's a movie night without cuddles???
Despite Asmo's winning Satan pushed him away and looked back at the screen.
Asmo: Ugh, Satan! You're so bad! MC, sweetheart, be a doll and come cuddle with me.
Mammon: Don't even think about it, Asmo! MC is sitting with ME right now. It's not your turn yet!
Everybody continue talking until one specific scene gets on the screen and silences the brothers.They are left in a mix of shock and confusion which was clearly visible on their faces.
Mammon: Wait.. That can't be..
Belphie: But it does look like them..
Levi: Could it perhaps be them..?
MC furrows their brows and looks at the brothers with a questioning look.
MC: Guys, what's up? You went silent all of a sudden... Is something the matter..?
All of the brothers take a look at MC before looking back at the screen.
Lucifer: MC, is that... You?
MC looks at the TV and smiles upon seeing themselves on the screen.
MC: Oh yeah! I'm one of the actors in the movie! I completely forgot. Cool isn't it?
Mammon: Wait WHAT?
Satan: MC, you are one of the.. actors? You're starting in this movie?
MC: Yeah?
Levi: What do you mean "Yeah?" This is a serious matter!
Asmo: MC dear, you never told us that you're an actor...
MC: Is it that important that you have to know?
Belphie: Yeah!
Beel: Yes, MC
MC: ...?
Lucifer sighs and punches the bridge of his nose before speaking.
Lucifer: MC, they're just overreacting. This is a matter to be proud of. I've personally heard many good things about this movie.
Mammon: Overreactin'?! Whatcha mean?!?! We ain't overreactin'!!!
Asmo: Yeah this seems pretty important to me! Like I'm sooo into it!! MC, dear, tell me more! Tell me what make up they use, how did they style your hair because it looks fabulous!
Satan: Yes, MC how does it feel to perform on stage in front of a camera?
Levi: Is it hard? Do you get stage fright or camera fright or something? I would honestly prefer to die rather than perform on stage! How do you do it?
MC: Well..
Belphie: Do they let you take naps in between shootings? If it were me I would fall asleep on stage if they didn't let me nap..
Beel: Do they give nice food? Is it free by any chance? How did it taste like.. Mmm my stomach is already growling...
Mammon: How much did they pay ya?! It better be a nice, big amount B'cuz it would be insultin' to not pay ya enough?
MC: Well, first of all..
Lucifer sighing: MC, you don't have to answer all of their stupid questions if you don't feel like it..
MC: No it's fine...
And so MC proceeds to explain everything to the brothers, answering each question they shoot their way with a wide smile on their face. The brothers seem in awe that MC was staring in the said movie. Some of them were proud and others were simply shocked and extremely interested.
After the bunch of questions from the seven brothers the family finally manages to watch the movie. At times someone would point out MC's acting skills or a scene that looked cool.
Sometimes the brothers would brag about MC and their acting potion in said movie since it was well known. And when they had movie nights they'd sometimes watch other movies MC starred in.
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Delicos nursery!?! Fic requests!?! Please please~~
Dino classic marries a plus size woman who at first seems cold but is a total sweetheart and just doesn't understand why people are afraid of her husband? She adores her step son like her own and even call him teddy for short? I love the sunshine x grumpy trope!
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There were many things Dino liked about being an aristocrat. Power. The prestige. Being apart of the inner circle of their society.
The one thing he hated about being an aristocrat was the parties.
But, if you wanted to be apart of the inner circle, and get the power & prestige, there were a certain number of social events that were an unspoken mandatory for a man of his station. Particularly one with a new wife, whom he was obligated to introduce to society as such. What a bore.
Luckily, his new wife was much more adept at these kind of things than him. Bright and bubbly, with a family almost grievously overconnected, his new wife took to the party like a fish to water. Talking to everyone and making efforts to re-introduce herself to old friends & new as the current Lady Classico.
Dino entertained himself back in a corner. A position he had grown comfortable with since he was a young man forced onto these parties; until his mother made him come out and talk to people, as he was never going to get married rooted to the ground like a wallflower. He just liked to watch more than participate. He felt it was easier to gauge the situation, gather intel, from the sidelines than in the fray. Plus people being near him always seemed to make his skin crawl.
A while later he noticed his wife coming over to him. A noticeable, deep pout on her lips. One he had never seen; save for the pretend ones she threw at him when she wanted to get her way. This one seemed real though. “What’s the matter?”
“These people are rude.”
This shocked Dino. As he had also never heard his wife speak ill of anyone either. She always seemed to find the good in others. Found the good in him. “How so?”
“They make underhanded comments about you and seem to think I’m too stupid to understand them.” Dino frowned at that. His wife was not stupid. They could say what they wanted about him, some of it probably true, but they would not speak ill of his wife. “Would you…be terribly disappointed if we go? I do not want to make a bad impression, but I also do not think I can screw on a smile much longer?”
Disappointed? Dino thought. He’d jump up an’ click his heels, if only his back would ever forgive him. “Of course. I’ll have our coats and coach sent for.” His wife smiled. Seeming to want to kiss him in her enthusiasm, but remembering they were in public.
Dino instead took her hand in his and kissed her glove where his ring would be. “Could we also take some cakes home for Teddy?” She had taken to calling Theodore that. At first he tried to talk her out of it, but she commented that he was just so cute. Theodore didn’t seem to mind (in fact he seemed to enjoy it judging by his blush) so Dino let it go. “I know you don’t like him to have many sweets but…once in a while can’t hurt. They’ll just throw them away at the end of the night anyway.”
He glanced at the elaborate dessert table. Days of work for the host’s staff. Barely touched. All to go to waste as she predicted. “Take two. The two of you can have them after dinner tomorrow night.” His wife grinned and scurried off to the table to collect her sweets while he called for their coach.
When they arrive home it is late, but not too far gone. His staff greet their new lady and she made quick work to greet them back before running upstairs to try and catch Theodore before bed. He was likely up reading late anyway.
Dino stood there in the foyer, watching her go, before he looked down at the parcel of cakes suddenly in his hands. He opened the lid to see what she had picked and smiled. Not surprised to see 3 slices instead of 2. See, his wife was very clever. She seemed to have no end to surprising him.
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lagataprrr · 2 days
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is it possible to get a short blurb of Satoru and plus size girl friend and how they go costume shopping, and he sees reader staring at a ghost face mask
hehehe
OH! I LOVE THIS
I hope this satisfied your ask <3 currently still working on chapter five of the series and its taken me longer bc kind of stuck on a scene lol
Ghost face Mask
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"What about this one?" You ask, and Satoru looks up from the rack of costumes he was looking through to look at you. He raises a brow at the costume in your hand of what seemed to be a sexy witch, it was a long dark purple sleeveless dress, that had a slit that probably stopped high enough on your thighs. It brought purple gloves and a black witches hat and a garner belt for the exposed thigh???
Satoru's mind began playing a scene of you coming out of his room dressed in it, how sexy you'd look prancing around in it while wearing your hot platform boots. He could see himself dragging a hand up the slit of the dress, caressing your calves and up your thick thighs. In fact it would be so easy to slip his hand between your thighs and touch your pu-
"Baby?" Satoru is snapped out of his daydream at your voice. Clearly knowing the look on his face as you let out a laugh, putting the costume back on the rack and walking elsewhere.
"Wait," Satoru pouted, grabbing it and stuffing it into the basket he was carrying for you. "I like this one too."
"Toru, I only need one costume. You've said yes to four of them, we're gonna have to choose one."
"We can get all of them."
"Halloween is only one night."
"It can be halloween every night if you just wear these for me." He says, arm wrapping around your waist, as he presses a smooch on your cheek. You giggle and softly push him off from his antics.
"Let's find you a costume." You say as you pulled his hand, finding the men's costume area. Eyes scanning through the many options, as you found a couple of possible ones. "What about this one?"
"You want me to be your sexy doctor, hmm?"
You grin, stepping over to him as you leaned into him dramatically. "Oh yes, doctor. Somethings terribly wrong with me."
His hand comes to your waist again, dramatically dipping you back and lifting one of your legs up making you squeal. "Of course, my sexy patient, I as your doctor will do a thorough full body check up," He says, momentarily letting go of the basket on his other hand to grip the thigh of the leg he'd raise. "Starting with the most vital place." Unabashedly patting your inner thigh, so fucking close to your cunt.
"Satoru!" You gasp, laughing loudly, probably catching the attention of a few onlookers but paying them no mind. He leans down and kisses you a couple of times before letting you stand normal again, still attached to your lips. You're giggling into the kisses, never a dull day with your boyfriend. He picks up the basket again and takes the costume from your hands and puts it in it. "So that one?"
"We can keep looking, you already have a sexy nurse one picked out so I can match it. Now let's find one about a wizard or warlock or something so I can match that sexy witch costume." You shake your head and glance around the racks, though your eyes caught a white mask that was hanged up near a corner of a display. Walking over and pulling it off the mass of masks from the wall and suddenly it was you who were having lewd thoughts about this costume.
A ghost face mask. And suddenly you're remembering all the hot tiktoks you'd seen on your for you page, about girls having a fun time with their boyfriends while wearing the mask. And fuck, you could definitely see Satoru in this.
He'd be standing on the doorway to your bedroom, mask on, his full on toned chest on display, delicious rippling abs and toned V on his hips leading down to a pair of black pants and boots covering his lower half. And then it was an image of you being fucked by him, ghostface mask still on, you're on your stomach, his full weight on you as he had both your hands behind your back. Cock dragging in and out of your pulsating cunt. The skin of your ass and thighs rippling at his hard thrusts, the contionous sound of skin slapping against skin.
All the while you're staring at the mask, Satoru caught on to the look on your face. Blown out pupils, completely out of it in your little head and he has the biggest smirk on his face. He takes quiet steps towards you and stands directly behind you, a hand slowly gripping your hip to pull you back into him. This makes you look back at him, now out of your little daydream.
"We're definitely getting that."
You clear your throat, a nervous laugh stumbling out of your lips. "What? Why?"
"I've seen your TikTok for you page while you've showered." And your jaw drops, he smirks at you, hands grabbing the mask out of your hands as he walks away to look at other costumes. "Come on baby, the faster we find other costumes the faster we can get home so I can put on the mask."
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Credits to @super-marvel-dc for the gojo divider!!! the Ghostface pic I found online and added a purplish filter on it for the purposes of this blurb
I've added this to the Blame it on the Club's Playlist| Series Masterlist, under Blurbs :))))))
Tag List:
@bankaixx
@shiftinghoe
@uniquecutie-puffs
@thewomans-stuff
@plathsotherib
@lanaismotherrrrrrr
@fangirllookingforlife
@tluvr777
@sunehry
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beegomess · 2 days
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ILOVE YOU MATHEO FANFICS!!! And your Theo ones omg they're so cute and make me smile every time I see them!! Could you do something like this? If you want to of course!
It's like in Brookline nine nine where Jake and Amy have that bet where whoever gets the most arrests by the end of the year get to make the other do whatever they want.
• what if Matty boy or Theo (ether is good Matty would be my pick tho! Or if you like the prompt you could do one for each <3 ) and the reader had a bet about who could get the best marks on a test or something like that.
• And he wins and they make you go on "the worst date ever"
• like Jake made Amy in BNN. But like Jake that's when he realize his feelings for the reader.
Supper fluffy and cute!! Rivals/friends to lovers !
Love ya!!
M.R. || Real love baby
Summary: When a boy pulls a girl's hair, it usually means something more than he actually admits. Warnings: none. A/N: This came out faster than usual because I simply LOVE Jake and Amy. I really hope it met your expectations, I'm delighted with how I was able to construct this text.🫶🏼
Open orders!
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The friendship between you and Mattheo has always been a roller coaster of jokes, provocations and, occasionally, a latent feeling of competitiveness. His blood boiled when he mocked every time a teacher caught his attention, and you reciprocated in the same coin, turning each slip of his into a reason for laughter. These exchanges never went unnoticed, and the common room often echoed with the barbs exchanged between the two of you.
What began as childish games, however, now seemed to gain a different meaning. In the sixth year, the provocations were no longer seen as mere mischief. Their friends, who used to watch from afar, began to observe them with insightful eyes, full of insinuations, as if they saw something you had not yet realized. What was once just an exchange of innocent barbs, now seemed to have a background of palpable tension, almost as if there was something else behind the debauched smiles and defiant looks.
You had grown up. And, over time, new interests have emerged. However, the fun of seeing the other angry for any insignificant reason still aroused an almost childish satisfaction in both. The adrenaline of a small triumph, no matter how small it was, was addictive. And, to your surprise, that night in the communal room would seal a new phase of this dynamic between you.
I was sitting with Theodore, discussing his grades from the previous year. Both were always the best in the class, and there was no more fun in competing with each other. Someone who really challenged his abilities was missing, someone from another house, maybe. But before they could continue the conversation, a familiar voice interrupted their thoughts.
- What are you talking about? - Mattheo appeared, sitting on the sofa in front, his curious expression, almost as if he was sniffing the opportunity to get into the conversation.
You sighed, rolling your eyes. I knew he wouldn't miss the chance to participate.
- We were regretting the lack of a competitor to match - said Theodore, with a convinced air that only served to fuel Mattheo's interest.
- Competitor? - Mattheo frowned, looking genuinely confused, before opening a malicious smile. - Oh, this nonsense of those who get the best grades, isn't it? Well, your problems are over, because the opponent you're looking for is right here.
His laugh was automatic and loud. Mattheo's idea as an academic threat seemed, to say the least, absurd. Theodore also let out a discreet laugh, and Mattheo looked at them with a mixture of challenge and frustration.
- Oh, please, Matty, don't make me laugh. - you said between laughs, barely able to catch your breath.
- I'm serious - he replied, his voice getting softer as his eyes met yours. - Come on, are you so afraid of losing to me?
You narrowed your eyes, trying to keep your composure. The game was getting interesting.
- Afraid of you? - you replied, raising your chin with confidence. - You won't even come close to reaching me, Riddle.
A glow of determination appeared in his eyes, and you knew that from that moment on he was committed. But before he could answer, Pansy, who was watching from afar with a mischievous smile, intruded.
- Bet on a date at the end of classes - she suggested, her voice full of malice. - Whoever loses will have to do what the other wants for one night.
You blinked, surprised by the audacity of the suggestion, but before you could protest, Theodore was already agreeing, a sideways smile on his face.
- Great idea - he murmured, clearly having fun with the situation.
Mattheo didn't waste time. He stretched out his hand with a provocative smile.
- Closed. Get ready for the worst date of your life.
Without hesitation, you shook his hand, sealing the agreement. He knew he was getting into a potentially embarrassing situation, but he also trusted that, as much as Mattheo could be merciless in his provocations, he would never do anything to really hurt or humiliate her. It was a bet, yes, but one that came with a layer of mutual trust.
From that day on, your destiny was sealed. The "meeting" was already a reality, all that remained was to define who would dictate the rules. A part of you longed for the challenge, while another, more cautious, began to wonder if you hadn't underestimated Mattheo.
[...]
The weeks that followed showed that you had, in fact, underestimated Mattheo.
In the first days after the bet, you treated the challenge carefree, almost mocking the idea that he could do well. Mattheo was always the type of student who killed classes, glued to the exams and, in the end, counted on the good will of the teachers to pass the year. However, something has changed.
In recent months, teachers' conversations about Mattheo have started to surprise you. They no longer talked about their lack of discipline, but about their potential. They said he was finally showing how smart he was - something that, in fact, you already knew, but that he never made a point of demonstrating.
Mattheo, who used to seem uninterested, now really studied. Their furtive glances and provocations during classes seemed to hide a new, almost disturbing determination. Every time he raised his hand to answer a question or hit a complicated question, you felt the pressure increase. He was, against all expectations, taking it seriously.
And, little by little, you realized that maybe you were facing an opponent much more prepared than you imagined.
The months passed like a gale, each day bringing with it new provocations and challenges. The agreement, which initially seemed like an innocent joke, had turned into a real war of nerves. Both maintained a serious posture in class, but behind this facade, the tension was visible with each exchange of glances. No opportunity was wasted for a sharp comment, and the friends around had already gotten used to the constant clash between you.
The whole year was a fierce dispute, with comparative grades right after each class, always followed by sarcastic laughter and subtle provocations. In the first weeks, you laughed at Mattheo's attempt to keep up, making a point of spreading rumors among the girls who met him in the library. With a mischievous smile on your lips, you whispered:
- They say that Mattheo Riddle is looking for a girlfriend. He's been spending more time in the library than anywhere else, he must be trying to impress someone.
The giggles echoed through the common room, and in a short time, the rumor ran loose through the corridors of Hogwarts. The result? The library, which used to be a place of concentration and silence, became a battlefield. Girls appeared unexpectedly around Mattheo, curious to know if there was any truth in the rumors. He, visibly irritated, cast looks of disapproval in his direction, knowing very well where that chaos had come from.
On the other hand, he didn't leave it cheap. Knowing that his weak point was concentration, Mattheo took revenge in a calculated way. Whenever you isolated yourself in a corner of the library to study in peace, he appeared, casually, and started a loud conversation, talking about the most random and uninteresting subjects, but enough to divert your attention. Not satisfied, he began to launch provocative comments whenever he passed by you, as if he were talking to himself:
- Oh, how I love to see the despair of those who are afraid of losing a bet.
Or even:
- I heard that some people can't study under pressure... what a shame.
Not to mention the colleagues who suddenly came to ask silly questions or break their silence, clearly instigated by Mattheo. You knew he was behind each of these little sabotages. The environment that was once his refuge for study had become unbearable. Wherever you went, it seemed that Mattheo was always there, ready to disrupt his plans.
In the weeks of tests, the tension intensified. The psychological war continued, and now, everyone used their tricks with precision. The librarian had already lost patience with both of you, and more than once you were reprimanded for "disturbing the study environment". But nothing seemed to be able to interrupt the dispute. You were tied, each test being decided by tenths, sometimes with him in front, sometimes with you.
And then, the last test of the year arrived. It was from Feitiços, one of the most challenging subjects and also the one that both knew could seal the fate of the bet. The room was tense that morning, with the students silent, nervous, frantically reviewing their notes. Mattheo sat in the row in front of his, and before the teacher entered, he turned around, throwing a malicious smile in his direction.
- Ready to lose? Should I reserve the night for your punishment? - he whispered, his tone soft, but loaded with provocation.
You raised an eyebrow, returning the smile with a sparkle in your eyes.
- I hope you've already chosen your worst outfit, Riddle. I don't want it to seem like a complete disaster on our "date".
He laughed softly, shaking his head before turning around. The game was about to end, and they both knew it. Every word exchanged, every defiant look, everything had led to that moment.
When the teacher finally came in and distributed the scrolls, the silence in the room became absolute. The sound of feathers sliding on the paper was the only thing that was heard. Each second seemed to last an eternity while you wrote your answers with determination, maximum concentration. There was no room for mistakes.
From time to time, you noticed Mattheo moving in front of you, but refused to look away for more than a second. I knew that any distraction now could be expensive. When the test finally came to an end, you let out a sigh of relief. But the tension was still in the air. All that was left was to wait for the result.
In the weeks that followed, the provocations did not stop. Mattheo was confident, always making insinuating comments about what he would do if he won the bet. On the other hand, you kept your posture firm, not showing a shred of nervousness.
- Don't worry, Mattheo. I'm sure you'll love to fulfill your part of the agreement. - you said, without ever letting out the anxiety that grew as the day of the delivery of the notes approached.
When the notes were posted on the board, Mattheo's heart accelerated, but he kept his expression confident. You approached soon after, and when you saw the minimal difference between the notes, your heart sank. Mattheo had won. He had taken the best grade, but by such a small margin that it even seemed like a whim of fate. You, who until then had maintained a calm posture, could not avoid an expression of disbelief.
Next to him, Mattheo let out a loud, triumphant laugh. He looked up, as if he had won a great battle.
- I said! - he exclaimed, drawing the attention of everyone around. - I said I was going to win!
He was not satisfied with the silent victory. No, Mattheo wanted everyone to know that he had won the bet. You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to compose yourself while he turned on his heels, laughing as if he had just won Hogwarts' most desired trophy.
- Oh, I can't wait to see this! - Mattheo provoked, approaching you with a mischievous smile. - I hope you enjoyed losing, because now the night is all mine.
You just rolled your eyes, knowing that he wouldn't miss the chance to make the bet worth every penny. Mattheo wasn't content to just win; he needed to make it a show.
[...]
In the afternoon after Mattheo's victory, he and Theodore walked through the busy streets of the Diagonal Street, in search of the perfect piece for the "date" that Mattheo had planned. The sun was high, and the sound of the conversations of the wizards around filled the air. Mattheo, with a malicious smile on his face, was eager to turn the bet into an embarrassing and memorable situation for you. Theodore, next to him, watched him in silence, waiting for the right moment to pull the conversation that was clearly stuck in Mattheo's mind.
- I think this store will do. - said Mattheo, pointing to a window that displayed a collection of exaggeratedly colorful and extravagant clothes. It was the kind of store that didn't care about following trends, but about being the center of attention. Exactly what he was looking for.
When they entered, the environment was even more absurd than the showcase suggested. There were dresses with giant ruffles, shiny capes and hats that almost touched the ceiling. Mattheo took a quick turn, his eyes dancing between the most ridiculous pieces.
- She'll hate it. - he said, holding a pink dress with golden details and voluminous ruffles. - Perfect!
Theodore, with his arms crossed and an ironic smile, watched as Mattheo looked for more options. He knew his friend was having fun with that, but there was something else. There was always something more when it came to Mattheo and you.
- You know, you're trying too hard for this, don't you think? - Theodore commented, casually, while leaning against the store counter.
Mattheo let out a chuckle, without taking his eyes off his clothes.
- I'm trying hard to make sure she's embarrassed. That was the bet. She knew what she was getting into.
Theodore arched an eyebrow, still watching him carefully. He let Mattheo continue for a few more minutes, before deciding it was time to deepen the conversation.
- Right, right... - Theo said, in a carefree tone. - But... why are you so looking forward to it? I mean, it's just a bet. It seems that you are spending more time and money than you should.
Mattheo stopped for a moment, holding a ridiculous piece of clothing in his hands, but didn't answer immediately. His expression, for a brief moment, showed doubt. He looked at Theo, a little annoyed.
- I just want to make sure she learns not to underestimate a Riddle - he finally replied with a forced smile.
Theodore didn't buy the excuse. He took a few steps, approaching Mattheo, and lowered his voice, in a more serious tone.
- Or you really like her... - Theo shot, bluntly, while watching his friend's reaction.
Mattheo frowned immediately, dropping the dress in a macaw next to him.
- You're delirious, Nott. That has nothing to do with liking her. It's just... fun. A bet, remember?
But Theodore, undisturbed, just shrugged.
- Of course, of course. It's just a bet - he said, with sarcasm in his voice. - But let's think a little... You spent the whole year teasing her, Mattheo. Calling her attention in every possible way. He told girls to talk to her just to annoy her, he did everything to disrupt her studies, and now... he's personally choosing the most ridiculous outfit he can get for this date.
Mattheo turned around, crossing his arms and staring at Theo with a closed expression.
- And what's wrong with that? - he countered, defensively.
Theo took a few more steps, now closer to Mattheo.
- What's up with that? - he repeated, shaking his head with a smile. - You spent hours thinking about it, Mattheo. Hours. For someone who says it's just a bet, you're spending a lot of time on it. That's not just fun, Mattheo. Admitting that won't kill you.
Mattheo clenched his fists for a moment, clearly frustrated with the direction of the conversation. He wanted to deny it. He wanted to laugh at Theodore's face and say that it was absurd. But the words got stuck in the throat.
Theo, realizing his friend's discomfort, gave another accurate blow.
- How much time have you spent thinking about how to provoke her this year? And how many times have you done this because, deep down, you didn't want her to move away? - Theo let out a low laugh and shook his head. - All this, Mattheo, all these provocations... were just an excuse. An excuse to stay close to her, to ensure that she kept noticing you.
Mattheo snorted, trying to ignore the truth in Theodore's words. He took another piece of clothing, trying to divert the focus from the conversation.
- You don't know what you're talking about, Nott - he said, harshly, but his voice didn't have the same firmness as before.
Theo approached again, now with a softer smile.
- I know exactly what I'm talking about. And, deep down, you also know. - He took one last look at the ridiculous dress that Mattheo was holding and sighed, as if he was accepting something inevitable. - But it's okay. Keep pretending it's just a bet. I just hope you realize what's really going on before it's too late.
With that, Theodore walked away, leaving Mattheo alone with his thoughts and the clothes he had chosen. The silence that followed in the store seemed to weigh more than before. Mattheo stood there for a few seconds, staring at the dress in his hands, but his mind was elsewhere. Theo's words reverberated in his head, and for the first time, he wondered if the bet wasn't just an excuse to hide what he felt all the time.
[...]
The next morning, Mattheo seemed to have completely buried Theodore's words. His provocation was the same as always, but maybe with an extra touch of sarcasm. The most ridiculous costume he could find was carefully left at his door, wrapped in an almost solemn way. The box, with a dark green bow, seemed to mock you. Despite knowing exactly what was inside, you spent the day ignoring it, leaving the package untouched next to the door while trying to keep your head busy with anything other than the "date" that would happen later.
The provocations between you continued throughout the day, as if everything was normal. Mattheo seemed to have fun every time their eyes met, and you just rolled your eyes, determined to pretend that nothing would happen. But as the day progressed, reality began to weigh on you. There was no way to avoid it anymore.
When the sun finally set, you knew it was time to face the challenge. With a heavy sigh, he took the wrapping from the door, already feeling the weight of the humiliation that was to come. The contents of the box did not disappoint. The pink dress was a freak, with a huge golden bow that adorned her back, so exaggerated that it looked more like a gift wrapping than a piece of clothing. The voluminous skirt gave the impression that you were ready for an 80s debutante ball, and the boots... Oh, the boots were a monstrosity. Black and worn, with a low and clumsy heel that did not match at all with the rest of the set.
Resigned, you dressed up the best you could. Your hair, at least, was beautiful, and you decided that, if you were going to be ashamed, the least you could do was keep your dignity intact. She went downstairs to the communal room, where some of her friends were already waiting for her, evidently curious to see the disaster that Mattheo had planned.
- This is a nightmare - you grumbled, as you approached, without trying to disguise your frustration. - After that, I can forget about getting any boyfriend.
Pansy laughed softly, covering her mouth with her hand, while Blaise and Theo exchanged complicit glances. Mattheo, who was standing next to the fireplace, couldn't contain a laugh.
- Oh, go, don't be dramatic. - Mattheo said, with a glint of amusement in his eyes. - I guarantee that, after today, you will be the most talked about person in Hogwarts.
You crossed your arms, trying to maintain dignity, although you knew you were already lost.
- Spoken for the wrong reasons, maybe - you replied, your voice loaded with sarcasm.
Mattheo just laughed more, taking a step forward.
- Come on, come down soon. We don't have all night. - He made a theatrical gesture with his hand, indicating that you should come closer.
When you finally came up completely, the muffled laughter began. His friends, no matter how loyal they were, couldn't help it. Pansy and Daphne covered their mouths to try to hide how much fun they were having, while Theo and Blaise watched with the looks of those who knew that it was an unmissable show. But the most surprising was Mattheo's reaction. He stopped for a moment, his lips curving in a smile, but his eyes... Well, his eyes seemed surprised.
Even with all that ridiculous outfit, you could still look beautiful, which clearly disarmed you for a brief second. The dress, as absurd as it was, highlighted the curve of her waist and the delicate features of her face. And, for a thousandth of a second, Mattheo forgot the real goal of the bet.
But he soon recovered, shaking his head and returning to the carefree and provocative attitude.
- Well, well... - he said, crossing his arms and tilting his head to observe you better. - I think a detail is missing.
Before you could ask what he meant, Mattheo took something from behind him and extended it towards him. A track, similar to those of Miss Universe, but with an inscription that made her stomach turn: "Mattheo Riddle is amazing".
You looked at him, incredulous.
- You can only be joking - you murmured, but Mattheo kept smiling, swinging the banner in the air as if it were a prize.
- Come on, you can't miss it. This is part of the agreement. - He insisted, his eyes shining with malice.
- That wasn't in the agreement - you replied, with narrow eyes, but you knew it would be useless to argue.
Mattheo just laughed and extended the band.
- Oh, but it was you who said I could choose whatever I wanted. And now I want everyone to know how amazing I am. - He winked, clearly having fun at the expense of his indignation.
With a sigh, you took the band and reluctantly put it on the dress. It was the height of ridicule, but when he looked at Mattheo, he realized that, as much as he was having fun, there was something more in his eyes. Something beyond provocation.
- Now, make a turn for everyone to see - he ordered, with a mischievous smile.
You rolled your eyes, but turned on your heels, feeling the huge bow hit your back, while the muffled laughter around echoed through the room. Mattheo applauded in an exaggerated way, as if you were at a fashion show.
- Perfect! - he said, laughing, and approached, putting an arm around his shoulders. - And now, let's enjoy this unforgettable night.
And so, you left for Três Vassouras, where Mattheo had scheduled everything. The songs, the dances, even the places where they would sit. His friends, of course, went together, ready to watch every second of this show, but, as much as Mattheo's plan was going to embarrass you, the truth was that while you walked next to him, something seemed different. Maybe it was the way he looked at you, or the fact that, as ridiculous as the situation was, you were about to have more fun than you ever imagined.
When you arrived at Três Vassouras, the environment was full of life, with laughter and conversations filling the air. But as soon as they passed through the door, the bar seemed to stop for a moment. All eyes turned to you, as if you had just witnessed a scene worthy of a comedy play. Your exaggerated pink dress, with your voluminous skirt and the golden bow on the back, made you look like a clumsy doll. And next to it, Mattheo, dressed in a gigantic tuxedo, with his sleeves and pants folded up in an almost comical way, didn't help improve the situation.
The laughter echoed around, and you felt your face burn with shame. People whispered, pointed and laughed shamelessly. You tried to hide the discomfort, but you felt everyone's gaze as if you were on a stage, exposed in a way you never imagined. Mattheo, on the other hand, seemed impassive, with a malicious smile on his lips as he walked next to him to the table at the back of the bar, completely ignoring the reactions around him.
You cast an angry look at his disproportionate tuxedo, muttering something low.
- That was... a creative choice, at least - you commented, still trying to adapt to the situation.
He shrugged, fixing the exaggerated collar.
- It's all part of the show, princess.
As much as you were angry, you ended up laughing at the situation, especially when the buttery beers arrived. The sweet and creamy drink, as always, brought a little warmth and relief to the discomfort, and before you knew it, your friends were already around, laughing and pulling you to dance.
At first, he hesitated. She was too ridiculous to move, but the lightness of the jokes and the excitement of the night began to weigh more than the embarrassment. Soon, you were in the middle of the track, spinning and laughing with Pansy, Draco and the others. Each sip of buttery beer made the dress look less absurd, and the music helped to forget the looks around. Suddenly, it didn't matter anymore that I was dressed like a party cake. Only the fun and the shared laughter mattered.
While you danced, forgotten about the initial shame, Mattheo, from afar, watched with a different expression. He was leaning against the counter, a beer in his hand, but he barely touched it. Instead, his eyes were fixed on you, the way he moved carefree, laughing and spinning to the sound of the music. He didn't realize the exact moment when he stopped thinking all that was a joke.
Theodore's words, said the day before, echoed in his mind. At that moment, inside the store, he had vehemently denied any feeling. But now, seeing you so at ease, with a genuine smile on your face, the provocations and games seemed distant. All he could do was watch you, as if it was the first time he really noticed how much you enchanted him.
The time they spent provoking each other, the jokes, the competitions... all this was dissolving in Mattheo's mind as he looked at you that night. Theodore was right, he noticed. Maybe all that would have been an excuse, a way to disguise what he had been feeling all the time.
And now, with you dancing and laughing so freely, he couldn't pretend anymore. The smile he showed to others was always a mask, but at that moment, looking at you, he felt something real. A slight tightness in his chest that he couldn't ignore.
Without realizing it, Mattheo let out a deep sigh. It was no longer a matter of provoking or winning bets. There was something else there, something he hadn't been able to admit even to himself.
And, for the first time, he stopped fighting against that.
Damn, he really fell in love with you.
____________________________
masterlist xoxo, bee🫶🏼✨
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sencrose · 2 days
Text
— WHO ARE YOU, REALLY?
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pairing: naoya zenin x f!reader, implied feelings involving naomaki
tags: dead dove do not eat. dubcon, angst?, reader is described as having a similar appearance to maki (mostly in hairstyle), incestuous undertones, physical abuse (against maki, sorry queen) established relationship, throatfucking, no prep, rough sex, pain during sex, (condescending) praise, hair pulling, internalized misogyny
wc: 3.2k
summary: You do not know what your husband sees in you. For better or worse, you learn.
a/n: back on my writing horrible things about naoya bullshit!! ngl this was weird to write but i also had a lot of fun with it. big thank you to @blueparadis for beta reading this for me <3 please read the tags and proceed with caution. ao3 link here
tagging: @pixelcafe-network @jellyfishsart
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You do not know what your husband sees in you. 
It is not that you are without merit, but you are, simply put, plain. A weed in a field of flowers in full bloom. The diet that follows after a bad bout of the stomach flu. A satellite in the night sky that might be mistaken for a star — until it glides past far too quickly to be one, much to an onlooker’s disappointment. 
You know what power the Zen’in clan holds. The kind of power where even the most upstanding of sons will poison their fathers just for a taste. The paranoia that comes with it, the rumors of potential traitors whispered between paper doors is enough to keep anyone on edge. 
With all of that in mind, you know in your heart of hearts you are not the type of person the next head of the clan would pursue. 
Yet you were told he picked you out by hand, out of the dozens of matchmaking papers given to him. Applicants that began and ended on ink, their names, birthdays, and occupations, were discarded without a care of who they were,, or who they could have been. 
What an honor, you were told. 
So you packed up your things with a judgemental eye, preparing yourself for the worst when you arrive. Would they let you keep a stuffed animal that was a birthday gift from a friend, or is that too childish? What about this shirt — is it conservative enough or will it bring unwanted attention?
You left most things behind. 
Every now and then, you recall a conversation you had with your mother shared over a plate of cut fruit, shortly before you received the news from the Zen’in clan. It comes to you whenever you see the young girls rushing through the corridors, hands holding a stack of sheets that tower over them. 
“Do you have any dreams?” she asked, carving the skin of an apple, the crimson peel spiraling under her skillful thumb, “Ambitions?”
She tended to ask this now and then. It’s natural, you assumed; a mother’s desire to know anything and everything there is to know about their child. 
It’s hard to remember or keep track of all the answers you’ve given her. All you know is that they’ve become less ambitious over the years. From huffing your chest out and saying you’ll be an astronaut who lives out in the stars with the profound confidence only a child could have, to something less spectacular, more mundane. 
You didn’t have much luck becoming a sorcerer, which shrunk your options. Maybe you’d go to school. Maybe get a degree, get some kind of corporate job, waste your life away in a gray office cubicle. 
But none of those are dreams. Obligations, perhaps.
“No, not really,” you replied, detached from the conversation. It was the truth. 
She patted you on the back, comfortingly. “Ah, that’s a good thing. You don’t want to be greedy.”
You still don’t know what she meant by that, but you also made no effort to ask for clarification. The words simmered low and steady until it burned and branded itself in your head.
As if to pull you out of your thoughts, your mother handed you a slice, an offering. Despite her words, you wondered if it was consolation. 
Even after some time has passed since your arrival, you do not know what your husband sees in you. You’re not sure he sees you at all. 
His touch is few and far between. 
To your surprise, on the night of your wedding you did not consummate your marriage. It happened two weeks after, and it was not what you expected from someone who had supposedly picked you out on his own accord. 
It was anything but gentle. You learned quickly that Naoya Zen’in is not a patient man.
Rough hands were grabbing anywhere, everywhere. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was trying to devour you. 
Nothing placated him. When you gazed up at him teary-eyed with soft pleas to go slower, you only made things worse. Hands grabbed onto your form to flip you over, push your face into the sheets so he didn’t have to hear your protests. Fingers pressed deep into the dip of your waist, so hard you worried about bruises forming (they did). 
Once he got what he wanted out of you, he tossed you to the side. As if you were some random girl he just happened to pick up for the night, someone he hoped would be gone come morning. 
As if you weren’t his wife. 
It was the first time in a long time that you realized, maybe, you had wants. Desires. To do something instead of having something done onto you. 
But your mother’s words haunt you. 
You don’t want to be greedy. 
For the first time since arriving at the estate, you have a hint of what your husband sees in you.
You don’t think you’re supposed to see it. You don’t think you’re supposed to be here at all.  
A girl lies on the floor of the open courtyard, her head underneath Naoya’s heel.
It’s like looking into a mirror, though a bit distorted. The image is similar, but the puzzle pieces filling in the gaps are all different.
Her hair is much like yours, though the strands that frame her face hang like blades, sharpened, ready to cut anyone who gets too close. 
You don’t have that type of intensity around you. The pieces of hair that frame your face soften your features. Wispy, uncertain shapes that blow away with the slightest puff of wind. 
The similarities start and end there. 
Though she’s younger than you, she wears a hardened expression, one you always thought would come to you with age. You realize now that you must’ve had it easy when you see how she wears it like it’s all she’s ever known. 
Although you go unnoticed by your husband, the girl acknowledges your presence. Her gaze meets yours, fury ablaze in her eyes, along with something else you don’t recognize. Your legs react before you even realize, taking a step back. 
Even with her body pressed into the ground in submission, you can tell she is anything but. It’s written candidly on her face, teeth bared to the world, begging for flesh to dig into.
Your husband must be a blind fool. Even you can see from a distance that she’s a wild animal in human form, just waiting for a chance to break the chains of her enclosure. You feel it in her stare, how she strips you down to a state even Naoya hasn’t witnessed. You don’t like it. How her eyes hone in on you like a lion staring down its prey.
Then again, would you even be considered prey? Even a rabbit has a fighting chance at running away. You do not know how to run. Not towards a goal, and certainly not away from danger.
But you can still walk. Walk while you can and you can forget you’ve ever seen this. Stuff it back in the recesses of your mind, back where you wrote off wants and desires and greed all those years ago.
You don’t walk away fast enough.
When you hear her name slip from your husband’s lips, your stomach freefalls. 
You haven’t been at the estate for long, but you know of her. Everyone does. You just never had the chance to put a name to a face. Maki Zen’in, one half of the clan disappointment, alongside her twin sister. It goes without saying that you also know of the ties that connect them.
You know your husband is a cruel man. He has to be; it’s practically a requirement for someone of his power and status. But it’s hard to watch when it’s laid out so plainly in front of you. Even so, you stay.
You watch with a tightness in your chest as he pulls her up by the base of her ponytail before throwing her back onto the ground, gravel and dust dispersed in the air from the impact.
Anger lights a fire in his eyes. No matter what he does, he doesn’t seem to get the reaction he wants, or much of a reaction at all. She takes it in stride, only emitting hushed grunts when he kicks her. While you flinch at the volume of his voice rising, she boldly sneers at his frustration.
You meet her eyes again. 
She laughs. 
It isn’t to piss off Naoya. No, it’s directed at you. The bystander who’ll go on with her day like nothing ever happened, even after witnessing the horrific abuse doled out at the hands of her husband.
Even though she doesn’t hold an ounce of cursed energy in her veins, you know what she thinks of you. You hear it in the dry chuckle she lets out before Naoya kicks her again.
You’re cursed. 
How pitiful. 
You’re sure he’s ranting about something, maybe something Naobito did, but you can’t bring yourself to listen to him. All you can think about is the girl in the courtyard, with an ire in her eyes you’ve never seen before. When was the last time you looked like that? Felt something so intense it radiated off of your very being, so bright and radiant it couldn’t be ignored? Have you ever had that kind of fighting spirit in you?
A stagnant silence brings you back. You vacantly stare back at your husband. It was your turn to speak for once. You perk up at the opportunity, though you’re unsure how to seize it.
“Sorry. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to say.”
“Well that’s the thing, isn’t it? You don’t need to say anything. C’mere.”
He pulls you in closer, his hand petting your head. It’s the only time he shows any semblance of gentleness, a cruel way of lulling you into a false sense of security. You know what comes next. His hand presses against your head, lower, lower, until you’re nestled against his crotch. Naoya looks at you, expectantly. 
Your fingers wrap around the cotton ties that hold his hakama pants, pulling with a tug. From there, the fabric falls easily, more so once you reach around his waist to undo the tension from the straps. 
You steel yourself to do what you’ve always done, though something sits in the back of your mind. 
You get him to groan with a long stroke of your tongue on the underside of his cock. Build yourself up to taking his entire length into his mouth, inch by dreadful inch, but it’s hard. By the time you swallow him whole, you can feel his tip pressing against the back of your throat. You do your best to service him at a pace he’d be satisfied with, one you know is out of your skillset, dribbling spit and coughing softly whenever you go too deep.
But Naoya isn’t satisfied. He’s impatient, his fingers weaving through your hair, pulling tight before he quickens your pace to his own liking. It’s something you still haven’t gotten used to. The burning in your eyes, the gross wet sounds that leave your mouth as he bobs your head up and down like a toy.
“Fuck, you’re perfect. Take me in so well, don’t you?” His grip around your hair tightens.
He continues recklessly fucking your throat, ignoring all of the choked cough and garbled yelps you let out whenever he hits the back of your throat. All you can do is take it, ball your fists and fold your thumbs in, and hope that trick you learned about reducing your gag reflex isn’t just some urban legend.
Naoya removes yourself from him as roughly as he places you onto him. The rush of air is both a welcome one and sudden change, and you gasp and cough at the sensation.
“Wife,” He brandishes the title like a weapon, the blade of a dagger pressed against your neck.
“Tie your hair up for me, won’t you?” he poses it as a question, but you know you have no choice in the matter. 
Time freezes.
Your eyes shift and you find yourself fiddling with your fingers, hoping he will change his mind if you look up at him with a disarming plea in your eyes, but his gaze does not falter. His eyes only get darker, a dangerous amber that glows like a warning sign in the lowlight of your shared chamber, as he awaits you to fulfill his request. 
Maybe your husband doesn’t see you, but you have always seen him for who he is, even if you didn’t want to admit it. It shines more than ever, when he tilts his head and the corners of his lips upturn. A snake carefully wrapping itself around a rat, just one good squeeze away from keeping you in his clutches forever. Once again, you’re trapped and frozen with nowhere to go. Unfortunately, you play your part well without trying.
You shouldn’t be surprised. It probably runs in their blood.
Slowly, you tie your hair up, strands spilling between your fingertips as you pick them up again, gathering and pulling through the hair only halfway through the elastic, an unstable, floppy bun.
You don’t want to be greedy.
A ghost of unspoken words from your mother whispers against your ear, and maybe if you caught on a bit sooner, things would be different. What was she trying to tell you? What did she hold behind her tongue so cautiously?
Because that’s not how I raised you?
Because that’s not a woman’s place?
Because that’s not what makes a good wife?
But none of it sounds quite right.
And though the thoughts swirl and cloud your head, something else rings bright and clear through the murkiness. 
You want. You want to be wrong. You want it with an intensity you’ve never felt before in your life, a desire clawing its way out of your chest, desperate to see the light of day. 
It’s a good thing. You don’t want to be greedy.
Naoya gently tugs on the loop of hair with his fingers, almost intimately, and it makes your stomach curl. He pulls apart the strands in half to tighten it, until a ponytail reminiscent of the one you saw earlier today sits on top of your head. 
It is only in this moment the clouds in your mind disperse, the addendum your mother wanted to add clear as day.
Because all you will be left with is disappointment.
Even though you’re filled with unease, you follow his lead because it’s all you’ve ever known. He pulls on the waistband of your skirt before pushing his hand against your back, getting you in position to arch for him. 
His fingers drag against your slit, before sliding two of them inside your hole, ignoring any initial resistance. Another thing you learned about your husband is that he’s a determined man; to your dismay, it doesn’t matter if it doesn’t fit, he’ll make it fit. Even the stretch of his digits is uncomfortable, scissoring them inside you just to hear you whine under his touch. You wince when he withdraws them, tighten up when you feel something hot and hard pressed against you.
There’s no getting used to his size. Even if he took the time to prepare you properly, you’re sure it would still hurt – if not at the initial penetration, then at the frenzied thrusts that come shortly after. His plump cockhead nudges teasingly against your hole, poking and proding before pulling away. He likes to keep you on your toes, hear you whimper when he surprises you a rough thrust. 
Something about him seems more impatient than usual.
He pushes himself into you, and you bite down on your lip as he splits your walls apart in one swift movement. Over the course of your marriage, you’ve learned to wait out the pain, keep your breathing steady until he starts to move. But his pace never stays slow for long. It’s only a short moment before his hips slam into yours faster and you have to weave through the sheets and grip for stability.
“Naoya, ‘s too much,” you whine, voice high pitched and on the edge of sounding needy.
Without warning his hands wrap around your ponytail and he pulls tight. The sharp pain makes you wince, arch your back until you’re pressed flush against his chest.
“Talking back, are we?” he quips back.
“No, no, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you say, hushed and quiet. 
You don’t think he accepts your apology, not when he tugs a bit harder and gives you a thrust so deep it knocks the air out of your lungs. Whether he accepts it or not, he’s still enjoying himself. You hear it in the groans he lets out whenever he hits you deep inside and you moan at the impact, feel it in the way his other hand kneads your breast before giving your nipple a tug.
“You like this, don’t you?”
You wonder if his words are actually directed towards you, but you don’t think too hard about your response, falling back on your default mode of placating him.
“Mhm,” you hum softly.
“Then you won’t mind if I go harder, right?” he asks, but he doesn’t give you a chance to respond. There’s no smooth transition, he simply goes straight into fucking you harder.
His pace is dizzying, the slap of skin-to-skin echoing throughout the room as he fucks you.
He only gets louder and more desperate as his hips slam into yours. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him like this before. It makes your mind race, makes you wonder if he’s holding back his tongue to call out another name whenever he hums a bit too long in pleasure. Each sound he makes causes your heart to skip in terror and anticipation, but you never hear it. Still, it trembles. 
“Be a bit louder for me, ok?” he whispers in the shell of your ear. His hand traces down from your chest to your waist, lower until it reaches your aching clit. “I’ll even treat you tonight.”
The unexpected contact pushes you further into him, sends a shiver of tension up your spine. You don’t want to admit the pleasure boiling up in you, not like this, but your body doesn’t give you much of a choice. Your lips are the first line of defense to fall, high pitched moans you don’t recognize spilling so easily, naturally, as if it’s water leaking from a faucet.
Maybe he thinks you’re enjoying yourself just a bit too much, because the grip on your hair tightens once again. But it doesn’t stop the rush of warmth building up in your stomach, from your muscles tightening to prepare for your impending climax.
“Nao, I’m close, I’m close-”
Shame washes over you along with your orgasm, walls fluttering against his cock, as he fucks you through it. Naoya’s own climax follows shortly after yours, his hips thrusting harder until he stills with a shaky groan. 
Only once he removes himself from you, you collapse on to the bed, body spent. You cautiously reach for the hair tie, looking over at Naoya as you pull it out with a soft tug. He doesn’t stop you. 
You know what your husband sees in you.
You wish you didn’t see it too. 
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