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#work has been hectic and stressful lately
girltomboy · 2 years
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Taking better care of myself
I am a bit disappointed with how I've been treating myself lately. Like, I care for myself and everything in terms of hygiene, nutrition, rest, etc., but I honestly could be more responsible and conscious. For example, I'm very very behind on my chores, and they keep piling up and I'm extremely overwhelmed because I don't know where to start now. There's something to pick up and fix in every single corner of my apartment, but after I finish work I just want to savor my few hours of freedom and I start doing something else or I go out. I could maybe ask my bf to help me clean one weekend, but then again... the number of hours we have together is actually not so large, etc. Plus I'm bad at chore distribution because I'm too used to doing everything myself. But I should perhaps not overthink this.
Another issue is MY BODY! I'm staying up late, my posture is abysmal while I work, I don't stretch and other than trying to take a walk every evening I don't move much either. I try to eat balanced and healthy but I feel I've been overdoing fast food; I used to have it like once a week and lately I've been having it more often than that. I also eat snacks and sweets, and I'm noticing some weight gain that's not significant but to me it's noticeable because I'm not used to it and it's kind of throwing me off. I'm trying not to make a thing out of it and slip back into my old habits. And smoking is another enemy I'm making, although I'm trying to be aware of that and not let it grow. I used to smoke 🍃 only on weekends and maybe days off last year, but I've started to do it on weekdays now and then, and I really don't like how it's making me feel. I've been cutting back on that. Other than that there's the occasional social cigarette which I guess existed in the past too, but now that I go out more and everyone I hang out with smokes, I've started to feel the need to do it just to have something to do with my hands, or if I have a drink. AND I've also been drinking which I never do. Nothing wild, like once a week 1-2 glasses of wine, or a beer, or 1-2 shots. I only have my coworkers to blame for this because they're really heavy on the pressure, and I used to be adamant about my boundaries, but recently I feel like I won't have fun if I don't drink. Which is completely asinine. I think I need to get back into having stronger boundaries and discipline.
Some more poison I torture my body with is constant screen time. If I'm not working in front of the laptop I'm on my phone, and if I'm not on my phone I'm on my personal laptop, like right now (it's so nice to type on lol). I miss those days where I'm so caught up in stuff that I forget or don't need to check my phone all day. I haven't had one of those in a long time, but I'm planning to. Being with my boyfriend helps too. I also want to get back into reading, I've even managed to arrange all of the books I have here on a shelf on my balcony. Very soon it's going to be a whole year since I started reading a book and never finished it lmao. That saddens me a lot, but I'm determined to finish it before its 1 year anniversary.
On the positive side, the weather is getting nicer and warmer everyday, days are getting longer and I wish I could be outside all day long! I try to avoid thinking about that because I get extremely hopeless at having zero time for myself because of my job. I seriously believe it's at the root of most of the issues I described here. But I live for the warm evenings, the weekends, and summer plans!
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nerdie-faerie · 1 year
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Texted my mum about being asked to stay an extra 2 hours because we were understaffed, so why did she follow that text up with asking me if I'm getting enough hours? Girl they won't let me leave
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silhouettecrow · 1 year
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365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 164
Adjective: Small
Noun: Devil
Definitions for those who need/want them:
Small: of a size that is less than normal or usual; not great in amount, number, strength, or power; not fully grown or developed, or young; (of a voice) lacking strength and confidence; used as the first letter of a word that has both a general and a specific use to show that in this case the general use is intended; insignificant, or unimportant; little, or hardly any; (of a business or its owner) operating on a modest scale; (archaic) low or inferior in rank or position, or socially undistinguished
Devil: (in Christian and Jewish belief) the chief evil spirit, or Satan; an evil spirit, or a demon; a very wicked or cruel person; a mischievously clever or self-willed person; fighting spirit, or wildness; a thing that is very difficult or awkward to do or deal with; (informal) a person with specified characteristics; expressing surprise or annoyance in various questions or exclamations; an instrument or machine fitted with sharp teeth or spikes, used for tearing or other destructive work; (dated) (informal) a junior assistant of a lawyer or other professional
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godsjaws · 1 year
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it’s not even 1 pm and i’m already done with this whole day
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churipu · 8 months
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hi i wanted to ask since your requests are open but can u write abt jjk guys (gojo, geto and maybe megumi as well) and how it would be like arguing with them? thank youuu~
ARGUMENTS WITH JJK MEN ˚。𖦹
featuring. gojo satoru, geto suguru, toji fushiguro x reader
warnings. cursing on toji's :)
note. hi nonnie, megumi's been done and you can just click right there to be directed to the said post — so, i'm going to change him to his father jsksdjdk. anyways, i'm so sorry this came out so late, i hope you like it. i was going to focus on my 1k event but then i realized that i'm holding up the requests in my inbox, so i'm going to try to upload them together one by one. / and ngl, i just did my nails done for the first time, aND I AM STRUGGLING TO DO ANYTHING. including typing, but i'm trying my best skdjs.
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GOJO SATORU. arguments with him are just plain loud. for instance, we all know how gojo is, he'd be so petty during arguments. despite that though — i feel like he won't ever raise his voice at you, he's petty, yes. but he won't do anything that could scare you, raising his voice.
believe me when i say that he won't back down when he isn't in the wrong. he will argue back if you're wrong; and even with all that banter, both you and gojo will always resolve it together. he won't let you leave or turn away to discard the argument. gojo hates it when you give him the silent treatment — so he tries his best to not let you leave unless everything is talked about, face to face.
"satoru, i'm just saying that i didn't mean to do that. okay? i didn't even realize it!" you tell him, voice loud and bold.
gojo looks at you, brows furrowed, "this is the second time y/n, i'm sure you realize that — you're not a child anymore." you grumbled under your breath.
the past few days have been stressful. hectic for you. you knew though it wasn't an excuse, but when things get too caught up — you lose track of things, and honestly, you wanted nothing to do but to sleep and take a rest. work has been taking a big toll on you, both mentally and physically — and you can't bring yourself to argue with gojo right now.
"satoru, i know. it's just, things have been stressful at work. i'm sorry i forgot to turn off the stove," you tell him genuinely sorry that you almost, possibly burn the whole house down if he hadn't been the one to realize that, "i'm sorry, okay?"
his gaze softened. regaining control over the rhythm of his breathing, gojo reaches out to you, "d'you wanna talk about it?"
you shook your head, "i just wan' to sleep, satoru. i'm tired." he buries his nose into your hair before tossing you over his shoulder, you didn't complain at the way he decided to carry you — you just wanted to go to bed and sleep the night away.
the male held you close as he climbed your shared bed, "'m sorry too," he mumbles, grazing his lips over your forehead.
"you don't have to be, it's my fault for being reckless," you replied, draping an arm over his torso, clutching his black shirt, "can we sleep now?"
gojo chuckles, "mhm. good night," he whispers, "i love you."
you smiled at him, burying your face into his chest, "good night 'toru. i love you more."
GETO SUGURU. arguments with geto can be pretty frustrating, although he never raises his voice at you. he just knows what to say, and he's always right too. whether it being about you forgetting to throw the trash out (once), or you being forgetful about some things — geto just knows the right words to say to you, without making you feel like you're doing something wrong.
see, the thing is in the house. you both divided your chores, geto does the dishes, and the mopping. you do the laundry and vacuuming. while the morning trash is yours, and he does it nightly.
he's usually never in the wrong. most of the time. but when he is, he will admit so. in conclusion, you don't argue with him often, because he will apologize if he knows he did something wrong. but this was on rare occasions.
today is one of those rare occasions. you swore you had left the house clean — and you remembered throwing the trash before you leave for work. yet, here he was, asking you about it.
"suguru, i promise i threw it in the morning. before i left for work," you tell him, taking off your shoes and putting it neatly on the shoe rack. having to come back home from work, you just wanted to eat dinner, have a nice warm bath, and sleep.
god, you hated arguments. you admitted that you sometimes forget to throw the trash out while rushing to go to work, but that was not intentional at all.
geto had asked your prior about it. you knew he wasn't sparking an argument, but the thing is — you remembered it well. going out of the door this morning while holding a plastic of waste, hell, you even remembered bumping into a neighbor on the way out.
"just . . . let me throw it out again—" geto has been awfully silent for the past few minutes, and when you approached the trash can, he immediately stops you.
his hand latching around your wrist gently as he pulls you over, "no, no. it's my fault, i remember now. i was the one who threw that in the trash can after you left," he said to you in an apologetic tone, "'m sorry."
you shook your head, "it's okay, it's just a misunderstanding. and it's not like you intentionally forgot about it, right?" he nods his head mutely, pulling you into a silent embrace, "y'okay sugu?"
"the next time i do that — i want you to smack me in the face, okay?" you chuckled, placing a wet kiss onto his lips.
TOJI FUSHIGURO. i don't know how to say it — he's just accepts his fate and does whatever you want him to do. he thinks arguments are a complete waste of time, it's not like he likes arguing with you in the first place. he just doesn't see a point to it since he never initiates the talking; you always do. but that's because he did things that sparked the said argument. you reap what you sow.
toji can be lazy sometimes. scratch that. most of the time. clothes sprawled out in the living room, on the kitchen counter which he claimed he forgot when he was grabbing water, on the couch, on the headboard of your bed, on the bathroom sink. and honestly, he's a grown man — he knows better than that.
"toji, how many times do i have to tell you—"
"put the dirty laundry in their place, yeah, y'reminded me that like . . . three times today." he grumbled under his breath as he yawned out loudly.
"then why are you still leaving them everywhere? god, this is so childish! it's like 'm taking care of a fucking baby," toji lets out a sigh, "i'm so tired of telling you over and over again. you're a grown man, why can't you act like one?"
toji's not dumb. he knows it's his mistake, and sometimes he genuinely forgets about leaving his shirt out while being too preoccupied with other things. he loves you, he really does. the last thing he'd like is you leaving him because he can't stop his habit of leaving his shirt everywhere.
he approaches you, taking the shirt out of your grip, "my fault."
"damn right it is. the next time i see another shirt, i swear to god, you're sleeping on the couch." you muttered out, crossing your arms — watching as the male meekly trotted into the bathroom where the laundry basket rested beside the bathroom cabinet.
"is that a threat?" he chuckles, peeking his head out.
"no. it's a warning."
he walks out of the bathroom, slithering an arm around your waist, hoisting you up onto his shoulder as he walked towards the couch. prepping you on his lap, "mm. noted, can you stop getting mad at me now?" he comments, grazing his finger over your neck.
and he did it again at night (and slept on the couch like you warned him, he still hates you for that).
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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vanteguccir · 7 months
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── ୨୧ ! 𝗟𝗘𝗙𝗧 𝗔𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗘
         𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader
SUMMARY: Where, after a difficult week, Matt takes out all his stress on Y/N, causing great damage to their relationship.
WARNING: Fighting, yelling, cursing, dark thoughts. ANGST!
REQUESTED?: Yes, by anons and @ivoncheetooo1239
AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
Part 2
   ༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
"I don't know where you want to get with that, Matt." Y/N sighed, closing her eyes tightly for a few minutes before opening them again, keeping them fixed on the road in front of the car. She had her head resting on her right hand, and her elbow braced next to the passenger door window.
Matt, as usual, had gone to pick up Y/N from work after her shift, but he was surprised to have to wait for an hour in the car for his girlfriend to finally be released, as her boss had demanded that she had to work overtime.
Despite being wrong, Matt felt furious.
His week was more than hectic with the start of sales of the 6 million clothing collection, as he and his brothers had to spend hours autographing photos of themselves that would go with each order. In addition to - by Nick and Chris's choice -, the three of them were the ones who hand-packed the first ones, which resulted in Matt having to stay awake until late hours, and waking up early everyday to fulfill his other tasks.
With all that, having to sit in his car for an hour, with only his phone and in such an uncomfortable seat seemed to increase his irritation, and he couldn't help but start an argument with his girlfriend, feeling like a pressure cooker about to explode.
"I'm just saying that you don't stop at home anymore. You just work all day, as if it was your number one priority in life. And now you've started this nonsense of working overtime!" Matt accused, gesturing exaggeratedly with his right hand while keeping his left one on the steering wheel.
"It's not like I asked to work overtime, Matt! You and your brothers have worked in a grocery store once, you know how it works-"
"Don't you dare bring up Chris and Nick's name. They have nothing to do with your lack of responsibility within a relationship." The boy took his eyes off the road momentarily, giving her a cold look that sent shivers running up her spine.
"Matt, you're being ridiculous! I understand your week has been tiring-" Matt cut the girl off again, shaking his head nervously.
"No, you don't know nothing, Y/N!" His tone was arrogant, a tone that the girl didn't remember ever hearing from him. "I'm exhausted because of my own work, and I still have to come and pick you up every day! And now you make me stay stuck in this car for an hour, waiting for Miss Perfect here to decide to leave." His voice gradually increased in volume.
Y/N could already feel the sensations of the ugly crying that was about to come, taking a deep breath and counting to 10 in her head.
"Then don't pick me up anymore, Matt! You were willing to come every day after my work just until some days ago, but if it's so hard for you now, don't come anymore." Y/N replied, her tone lower than her boyfriend's but still carrying much stress.
"How can you be so ungrateful?" Matt shouted, slamming his hands against the steering wheel violently.
"Matt, look, I'm sorry- Hey, keep your eyes on the road!" Y/N ignored the pang she felt in her heart at the brunette's words, fear rising through her veins as she saw the car move further away from the main road, as a result of his lack of attention.
Her eyes were wide as she raised her hands, ready to grab the steering wheel if necessary.
"You know what? I'm done." Matt spoke through gritted teeth, turning the car sharply to the right until it stopped on the side of the road.
"What are you doing? Matt?" Y/N asked, her breath coming out shakily as her eyes traveled down the dark, deserted street, to her boyfriend's face, which seemed to be covered in a gray cloud of hate.
"I'm done with this. If you don't want to take responsibility for your own mistakes and don't understand the seriousness of this relationship like I do, then maybe it's not worth the effort." He unlocked the doors, crossing his arms and keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his nostrils flaring as a result of his hard breathing.
"M-Matt, don't do that." The girl tried, swallowing hard.
She reached out her hand towards him with the intention of gently touching his arm, but Matt pulling away roughly, as if she were a plague, made her stop abruptly for a few seconds, her hand slowly lowering.
“I need to think, Y/N.” He shook his head, resting his elbows on the steering wheel and laying his head in his hands, closing his eyes tightly. "Get out." He demanded sharply.
Y/N's eyes widened, her heart stopping momentarily.
"W-what? Are you crazy? Look at the time, Matt. How am I going to-"
"Get out." Matt interrupted her, not once looking up. His tone was flat and cold.
Y/N looked at him for a few more seconds, as if waiting for him to apologize and say it was all a sick joke. But that never happened.
She quickly pulled the car handle, grabbing her purse and getting out of the passenger seat. The cold night air hit her body with force as if needles were piercing her skin, eliciting a strong shiver from her members.
Her hand pushed the door hard, closing it, the sound echoing like a dull thud. Her eyes watched the car restart not even a second later, screeching away.
Y/N remained still for a few seconds - or minutes -, watching Matt's car disappear into the distance, her hope of him turning around slowly disappearing.
"Come back." Her voice sounded so broken, just like her insides. "P-please."
She spun around, taking note of the street completely deserted of cars or humans, the only source of life being the streetlights.
The girl quickly hooked her purse onto her right shoulder, crossing her arms tightly around her torso and beginning the steps of the long walk she would have to take to get home - if she even could call that place her home anymore. The possibility of Matt kicking her out after the events made her legs tremble.
Her throat started to hurt from the crying that she was still holding back. The emotions rising in her chest were like bile in her throat; It burned and hurt like never before. Her heart felt like it was being crushed by a human hand, and it didn't take long for loud sobs to escape her lips, her eyes stinging from the hot tears in contact with the freezing wind.
It was minutes of walking without stopping, her feet ached from the tension in her body, a result of the intense cold and the several times she turned back, checking if she wasn't being followed.
The familiar street soon took over her blurred vision, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. Thick tears were still rolling from her eyes, but her sobs had stopped, being replaced by small sniffles.
Y/N shuffled down the sidewalk, passing the houses neighboring hers, before finally stopping in front of her front door. Her hands, practically frozen by the cold, opened her purse in a quick movement, rummaging through the smaller pockets, looking for the key.
She closed her eyes tightly when she couldn't find it, vaguely remembering just throwing it in the glove compartment of Matt's car that morning since she was in such a rush and still eating her breakfast.
Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she fished out her phone, cursing under her breath when she noticed that the battery was almost all gone. Just her lucky day.
She quickly unlocked the screen, going into her contact list and clicking on Chris's one. The boy answered on the second ring, surprising Y/N.
"Y/N? Thank God, where are you guys?" Chris's voice sounded relieved. Y/N frowned, her mind creating thousands of horrible scenarios as to why Matt hadn't gotten home yet.
The path she took, which took her almost 30 minutes of walking - or more, since she was walking slowly due to the cold - would not even take 15 minutes by car.
"C-Chris, open the door for me. Please." Her voice was broken, her teeth chattering as her body felt the temperature drop even more now that she stood still.
"Are you out there? Alone?" He asked exasperatedly. The sound of his bed shuffling sounded from behind, probably the result of him getting up.
"Yeah... Just hurry, please." Y/N repeated, her tone completely vulnerable.
The line went dead at the same instant. Her right hand - which was holding the device - moved away from her ear quickly, her eyes only finding the negative battery icon.
She threw her phone into her purse again, her eyes prickling with new tears that wanted to flow. Her mind created terrible thoughts about herself and her day, and all she wanted most was to sleep and perhaps never wake up again.
The sound of keys sounded on the other side of the door seconds before it was abruptly opened. Chris's figure appeared, his wide eyes carrying immense concern as they roamed Y/N's body, seeming to search for any injuries.
"Oh my God, you're freezing." He confirmed when he noticed her shaking, gently pulling her inside, before closing the door again. He rubbed his hands over Y/N's arms, which, even though they were covered by the fluffy jacket, were still extremely cold.
The warm air from the heater inside the house welcomed the girl's body gracefully, surrounding her like a thin blanket. She sighed, closing her eyes momentarily.
"Where the hell is Matt? I thought he was going to pick you up." Chris asked exasperatedly, helping her take her purse off her shoulder, hanging it on the rack next to the door.
Y/N felt her eyes fill with tears again at the mention of her boyfriend's name. An ugly sound of choked sobs escaping her throat caught Chris's attention, who stopped his movements and turned his eyes to her.
"Oh no, what did he do?" His tone was gentle as he approached, pulling her into a tight hug as he watched her shake her head in denial repeatedly, her lips trembling. "Let's go to my room, you need a hot shower and fresh clothes."
Chris slowly stepped away, keeping one of his hands on Y/N's shoulders, guiding her through the kitchen and down the stairs towards his own room.
The door was already open - being left like that when the boy rushed after receiving her call -, the two of them just passing through it before Chris closed it, keeping the hot air trapped between the four walls.
"Go take a shower, I'll get you some new clothes from your closet, okay? There's a clean towel in the cabinet under the sink." The boy indicated, watching his sister-in-law nod weakly, a low "thank you" escaping her lips before she could enter the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
It didn't take long for Y/N to step out again, already dressed in the Fresh Love sweatshirt set that Chris placed on the sink - just by putting his arm between the door and the frame.
Even though she wanted to melt like hot water and go down the drain just like her tears that fell imperceptibly, her feet hurt too much to support her weight for even another minute, begging for a rest.
Chris was sitting on the right side of the bed, his back against the headboard and his legs above the duvet, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone, seeming to be waiting for her.
The sound of the bathroom door closing attracted his attention, and he quickly locked his cell, putting it on the bedside table before tapping the empty space next to him, silently calling Y/N to sit there.
The girl walked to the indicated side, lifting the duvet and sitting on the mattress, staying in the same position as Chris, but with her legs covered.
"Do you want to talk about what happened?" He asked calmly, watching her closely, trying to read her expressions, but seeing only an ocean of pain in every line of her face and eyes.
"Matt left me in the middle of the road." She swallowed hard, shaking her head while closing her eyes tightly. "We had a fight. My boss demanded from me to work overtime and I forgot to tell Matt, so he ended up waiting for me for an hour in his car. He was tired from the day and the week, and I think the stress built up on both our sides, and he just started yelling at me." Y/N shrugged, sniffing momentarily, trying to hold back her tears.
"Wait, he left you in the middle of the road, alone and in the cold? To come home walking?" Chris's eyes widened, a look of disbelief occupying his blue orbs as he tried to process the information.
"Yeah." The girl's voice sounded low and vulnerable, her head lowering and her eyes focusing on her hands above the duvet, feeling embarrassed by her boyfriend's actions. "I tried to intervene at some point, but he was so mad." She took a deep breath, biting her bottom lip hard, the pain almost numb next to the one she felt in her heart. "I don't know what I did wrong, Chris." Her voice broke, a dry sob escaping her throat.
"I'm so sorry for my brother's actions, Y/N." Chris sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. "I promise you did absolutely nothing wrong. Don't let those thoughts get the best of you."
"I just... Maybe I'm not really giving our relationship enough credit. Or maybe I'm not enough to fit into Matt's life patterns and busy days." She douted, playing with her fingers as a nervous act.
"Why don't you try to get some sleep? I imagine how tired you are and it's late. We can talk about this tomorrow, but try to clean your mind for now, okay?" He suggested.
Chris helped her lay down after receiving a nod of agreement, adjusting the duvet over her body. The girl moved her head, laying it on his left thigh, seeking comfort. He quickly put his hand on her hair, stroking the area calmly, lulling her into sleep.
After making sure she was already dreaming, the boy moved her slowly - so as not to wake her -, laying her completely on the mattress before getting up. He sat down in his gaming chair, crossing his legs on the seat.
Chris closed his eyes tightly, massaging his temples, trying to reduce the tension there. His eyes remained on Y/N's figure, caring for her sleep like a worried older brother, longing to have the power to erase the entire event from the girl's memory.
Matt would hear from him when he arrived.
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taglist:
@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @iammattswife
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mandarinmoons · 7 months
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could you write spencer x reader, where reader is pregnant and they’re having like the worst argument ever, and too much stress causes yn going into labor. thanks🫶🏻
You were 9 months along and extremely pregnant. If it weren’t for Spencer helping you every time you needed to get up on your feet, you didn’t think you would’ve made it halfway through your term. Your feet were swollen, your back was aching and with the baby kicking more regularly, you were exhausted and couldn’t wait for it to be all over.
Spencer had been caught up with work for the past few days and wasn’t able to be there for you as much he needed to. By now your mood was pretty stable as you managed to get used to the hormones caused by the pregnancy, but this time around they had full control and with Spencer not being around to dote on you it was a recipe for disaster.
It was 11 o’clock at night, with not being able to sleep comfortably due to the size of your stomach you decided to stay up late until Spencer got home and watch whatever reruns the TV channel you had settled to watch had to offer.
While clicking through the channels the front door opened and closed and you heard a familiar sigh, Spencer finally got home. As he shuffled out of his shoes he slowly made his way to the couch, he pressed a kiss to your head and sat down next to you. Leaning over he caressed your stomach and pressed a few kisses on it too.
“How’s she doing?” Spencer’s voice was quiet and even in the dark you could make out that his under eyes were darker than usual.
“She’s been kicking a lot today, too bad you weren’t here to feel it,” the tone of your voice was almost snarky and even though Spencer wasn’t the best at social cues his eyebrows furrowed together as he caught on to your annoyance.
“Is there something wrong?”
You sigh and sit up a bit, “Spencer, I know your work has been hectic recently, but I can barely stand up by myself and not having someone here to help is really difficult.”
Spencer’s jaw lightly clenched and you saw a vein pop out on the side of his forehead, it was clear that your words were upsetting him.
“Sweetheart I’m sorry that I can’t always be here, but you need to understand that sometimes I just can’t.”
“Can’t you take some time off until I give birth?”
Spencer sighs and sits up as he rubs his hands over his face, “I can’t, we need the money. Having a family is expensive,” Spencer’s voice was agitated, you knew you should back off but you couldn’t, you were the one who was taking on the majority of the burden of bringing this child to life and you weren’t about to be shut down.
“Can’t you show a little compassion?”
“A little? Y/N I rub your back and feet every night, even after I get home from work, even if I chase down an unsub for how long, I always make time for you!” Spencer’s voice was getting louder and his fists clenched, meanwhile your blood was boiling and tears were threatening to spill from your eyes. 
“Screw this,” you managed to stand up and waddled your way to the bedroom while Spencer looked to the side and took a deep breath. He loved you but sometimes your stubbornness got a bit much for him.
You slammed the door shut and a moment later you felt a sharp pain in your abdomen which led you to gripping onto the nearby dresser. A groan left your lips and a moment later you felt water trickle down your legs, this was it.
“Spencer!” you yelled and he was by your side a second later, crouching down to look at your face.
“She’s coming, the baby’s coming.”
Spencer’s eyes went wide and he quickly grabbed you a jacket and a pair of shoes, which he helped put on, and gently guided you to the car.
One extremely careful yet quick car ride later you were taken into a hospital room and  nurses surrounded you as they helped you get through the pain, all while Spencer was right by your side squeezing your hand in his and giving it a sweet kiss every now and then.
“You’re doing so well sweetheart.”
You looked over at Spencer and winced as another contraction racked your body and whimpered, “I’m sorry Spencer.”
“Shh no no, it’s okay, don’t worry about that now. Let’s just focus on getting our girl here, yeah?”
You nodded and squeezed Spencer’s hand as another contraction took over.
Hours later cries were finally heard in the room and the little miracle that you and Spencer had made was put in your arms. You looked down at the now sleeping baby and ran your finger over her cheek. You looked at Spencer and saw tears flooding his eyes, that was his little girl.
“Do you wanna hold her?”
Spencer nodded eagerly and gently took the infant in his arms as he took in the sight in front of him, you had just given him one of the greatest gifts he could ask for.
“What should we name her?”
Spencer took a moment as he was still mesmerized by the presence of his own child.
“What about… Bailey?”
“I like that, Bailey Reid.”
Spencer chuckled and sat down on the hospital bed next to you. You inched a bit closer and admired how Spencer held Bailey. You rested your head on Spencer’s shoulder and he made sure to press a sweet kiss to your head.
“I love you so much.”
“I love you too, so much, and now also her.”
“Me too, so much.”
Taglist: @radioactiveinvisible @whoisspence @sreidisms @lanascinnamongirls @luvkatryna @sp3ncelle @iluvreid @khxna @keiva1000 @indigosamsblog @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden
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breezeflows · 2 months
Text
The Long Road (Stanford Pines x Reader)
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Chapter 2
Chapter 2 is here yippee!! I feel like these first few chapters are kind of slow but it’ll be worth it i swear!! And also a huge thank you to everyone for showing the first chapter so much love! It means the world to me. Now with all that aside here is Chapter 2! <3
Themes: This chapter is prettyyy sappy, Ford and Reader sort of make up? (Let’s see how long that lasts) sad feelings, small arguments, kissing, yearning, etc all the stuff that’s blanching okay anyways
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The next day you find yourself sitting in a booth at Greasy’s Diner, idly stirring creamer into your cup of coffee. The diner is relatively quiet, the only sounds coming from the occasional clinking of silverware against plates and the soft hum of the AC unit. The smell of bacon and fried eggs wafts through the air, and sunlight streams through the large windows, casting the small diner in a warm glow. You take a sip of your coffee, the caffeine working its way into your system as you try to distract yourself from the thoughts of yesterday’s events.
You’re soon brought out of your trance as your close friend Lizzy arrives, sliding her way into the booth in front of you. Her strong perfume drifts through the air as she tucks her curly blonde hair behind her ears, showing off the golden hoops she’s adorning as she readjusts her bright green V-neck. She reaches into her purse, grabbing a bright red lipstick and begins applying it as she speaks.
“Sorry I’m late doll. Traffic was a total nightmare!”
Your face warms at the presence of your close friend, although it doesn’t seem to ease the heartache you’re feeling from your previous encounter with Ford. Your hurt being evident in your tone as you reply.
“It’s no problem Liz.”
Lizzy’s gaze instantly meets yours as she pauses, catching onto your tone immediately. She studies you for a moment, lowering the red lipstick as she takes in your tired eyes and solemn expression.
“Hey, you okay?” she asks gently, voice laced with concern. “You look like you’ve been through the wringer.”
You sigh, your shoulders drooping as you begin to explain your situation to Lizzy.
“I don’t even know where to start,” you say, fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater. (Ford’s sweater ahem ahem) “Things have been… hectic, to say the least. My relationship with Ford has been falling apart, and I feel like I’ve been living with a ghost these past few weeks. He’s been completely immersed in his research, and he barely even acknowledges my presence anymore.”
Lizzy watches you carefully with a frown, her brows furrowed in concern.
You continue, your voice faltering slightly as you recall the recent events. “Yesterday morning, we had a tense conversation where he basically said that his research is more important to him than our marriage. And then one of our old friends from college showed up and it made the situation even worse.”
Lizzy listens intently as you speak, her expression filled with sympathy. Once you finish explaining everything, she reaches across the table and takes your hand in hers, giving it a comforting squeeze.
“I’m so sorry you’re going through all of this Y/N,” she says soothingly. “You deserve so much better than that doll. And you should definitely get out of that house for a bit and clear your mind. How about you come stay at my place for a couple of weeks? You don’t need to deal with all of this...” she waves her free hand around as she continues. “Man-stress, alone.”
A wave of gratitude washes over you at Lizzy’s offer, and you can feel the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. She really was an amazing friend. You take a deep breath, trying to compose yourself.
“Are you sure?” you ask. “I don’t want to impose or anything.”
Lizzy chuckles dismissively, giving you a reassuring smile.
“You won’t be imposing on anything Y/N. I’ve got a spare room in my apartment, and it’ll be nice to have some company other than my boyfriend. Plus, a change of scenery might do you some good.”
You take a second to consider her offer, weighing the pros and cons in your mind. The idea of getting away from everything for awhile was tempting, and spending time with a good friend is always a nice thought. You take another deep breath, pushing down the small voice in your head that is telling you to stay and make things right with Ford. You knew he wasn’t going to change his mind anytime soon, or at least it felt that way.
“Okay,” you finally say, your voice slightly stronger now. “I’ll stay with you for a while. Thank you, Liz, you have no idea how much this means to me.”
Her smile widens, and she gives your hand another squeeze. “Of course chick,” she says. “What are friends for right?” She then reaches over and takes your coffee, thoughtfully taking a sip of the not-so-hot liquid.
“So, do you need help packing a bag, or do you want to go back home first to get your things?”
You think for a moment before replying. “I can head back to the house to pack a bag, but I’ll probably need to leave the car for Ford in case he needs it. Could you pick me up around 3:00?”
Lizzy nods in understanding, a slight frown on her face at the mention of Ford. Even when the two of you were fighting you still looked out for him, it was admirable.
“Yeah, of course,” she says. “I’ll be there at three. Text me when you’re packed and ready, and I’ll head over to pick you up. Just focus on getting what you need, and don’t worry about anything else, kay?”
You down the rest of your now-shared coffee, feeling a sense of relief at the prospect of getting away from the stressful atmosphere of your house. You thank your friend once again for her kindness, promising to message her once you’re ready to be picked up. With a small wave you leave the diner, heading back towards your house to pack a bag and prepare for your temporary stay at Lizzy’s.
As you make your way back to the cabin you realize walking may not have been the smartest choice. The skies have darkened, and the air has grown crisper. Large, plump raindrops begin to fall, creating a soft patter against the pavement. The once bright and sunny day has transformed into a dreary, rainy afternoon, the weather seeming to reflect your current situation.
You quicken your pace, the sound of rain getting louder as it hits the ground and the surrounding trees. The house soon comes into view, standing tall and imposing against the grey sky. Your clothes and hair become soaked with rain as you speed towards the front door, swinging it open and shutting it behind you.
As you step into the house, the heavy door closing behind you with a soft thump, you are surprised to find Ford standing in the entryway. He looks the same as before, tired, and a bit weathered. Although he seems taken aback by your appearance, his eyes flickering with surprise and… something else.
“You’re soaked,” he says, a hint of concern in his voice. “What happened?”
You turn your gaze from him as you shed your coat, revealing his old sweater underneath as you place it on a nearby hook.
“I went out with Lizzy for a late breakfast and got caught in the rain.”
Ford watches you as you hang your coat and begin to remove your shoes. He notices the slight distance in your voice, and the way you avoid his gaze. He knows deep down there’s more to it than just a simple breakfast with a friend. He hesitates a moment before speaking.
“I see,” he says slowly. “So, you two just… had breakfast?”
A sigh escapes you as you sit up straight, finally meeting his gaze.
“Yep.”
Ford’s jaw clenches slightly as he studies you, clearly sensing that there’s more to the story than you’re letting on.
“That’s it?” He presses, a note of skepticism in his voice.
“I’m going to be staying at her place for a couple of weeks.”
His eyes widen at your response, his lips parting in surprise. The hint of skepticism in his voice grows stronger as he takes a small step towards you.
“Wait a minute,” he says. “How long..?”
You turn your head from him with a frown, hugging your arms as you speak in a quiet yet frustrated tone.
“I’ll be out of your hair this way and you can focus on your project with Fiddleford, since it obviously takes higher priority.”
Ford’s eyes widen even further, a mix of shock and pain crossing his face at your words. His hands clench at his sides as he processes what you’ve just said, his mind reeling.
“What are you talking about?” he asks, his tone now filled with frustration. “You’re treating this like I just want to get rid of you, like I don’t-“ He pauses closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Like what Stanford?” you step forward, beginning to become angry with him. “Don’t act as though you didn’t tell me that your research is bigger than our relationship. You’ve tossed everything aside but now that I’m leaving for a few weeks you’re suddenly concerned?”
His eyes snap open at your outburst, scowling as his expression was a mix of frustration and guilt.
“You’re twisting my words,” he snaps. “I never said my research was bigger than our marriage. I just…” He falls silent, his anger deflating slightly as he looks at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of pleading in remorse.
“I just need some time to focus on this project,” he continues, softer now, his frustration giving way to desperation. “But that doesn’t mean I wanted you to leave. I… I never wanted that Y/N. Never.”
Your anger and resolve begin to crumble at his pleading state, your eyes softening as they meet his. You find your legs moving on their own as you step towards him, your arms slowly reaching to wrap around his middle. You rest your cheek on Ford’s shoulder, inhaling his scent. A mixture of pine and musk, with a tinge of smoke.
He lets out a shaky breath as you approach him, his rigid stance relaxing as you embraced him. His own hands eventually find your back, hesitating for a moment, but soon returning the embrace. He holds you as close to him as possible, trembling slightly as he buried his face in your hair.
“I don’t want you to leave,” he whispered, his voice muffled, but filled with a combination of mixture and despair.
“Please don’t leave me.”
You tighten your arms around him, your voice soft and reassuring.
“I’m not leaving you Ford,” you speak, your breath warm against his neck. “I just think we both need a bit of space right now. I need time to sort out my thoughts, and I think getting away for awhile will help with that. But I promise you I’m not leaving you.”
Ford’s grip on you tightens slightly at your words, as if he is afraid to let you go. His body tremors faintly as he absorbs your reassurance, his voice a mixture of relief and resignation.
“How long?” he asks with a vulnerable tone. “How long will you be gone?”
You pull back, just enough to look him in the eyes. You reach up, gently cupping his face in your hands, and he leans into your touch.
“Just a couple of weeks at most,” your thumb stroked his cheek as you spoke, giving him a look of sympathy. “When I get back, we can work through this, alright?”
His eyes search yours, his expression now one of understanding. Ford nods slowly, his hands moving to cover yours, his calloused fingers gripping your wrists gently.
“Alright. But please stay in touch. I need to know you’re okay.”
You manage to give him a soft smile and a nod, before leaning in and pressing a tender kiss to his lips. Ford’s eyes fluttered shut at the unexpected gesture, a small sound of surprise escaping him. His hands grip yours even tighter, his body leaning into yours as the kiss lingers for a moment.
After sharing a few more, you finally pull back. Ford’s eyes open, and he gazes at you with a look of surprise and yearning. A slight flush of pink is apparent on his features, his lips parted and slightly reddened from the act. He observes you for a moment, before bringing your knuckles to his lips, placing a gentle kiss there as if trying to hold on to this moment for as long as possible.
“I’ll miss you,” he spoke tenderly. “Don’t forget about me while you’re gone, okay?”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Sixer.”
Ford’s heart skips a beat at the familiar nickname, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He pulls you closer, enveloping you in his embrace once more, large calloused hands wrapping around your back.
“Good,” he murmurs, resting his chin atop of your head.
“Because I’ll be counting the days until you come back.”
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tags :) - @artistic-gato @karmaisacatluzi @therottenheartofscum
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peterman-spideyparker · 9 months
Text
Labels (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)
Author’s Note: Hi! So, I've kinda put myself on a writing hiatus for a while and, in turn, have limited my time on Tumblr as of late. I was/still kind of am feeling uninspired in terms of writing and ideas, but this one came easily, and it needed to be written and shared before the excitement left me. I still have a million other stories and ideas I want to get going on, but for now, I hope you enjoy this one. :)
Summary: One evening when Matt tries to surprise you with a home cooked dinner date, he's stunned by something you've done for him.
Warnings: Sweet adorable fluff. No use of (Y/N), but it does refer to the reader being feminine/female-identifying
Other Characters: Karen Page
Word Count: 1,158
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“Hello?” you say over the phone, very clearly distracted by whatever is in front of you.
“Hi, angel,” Matt smiles, feeling a weight off of his shoulders when he finally hears your voice when you pick up your desk phone.
“Matt.” The way you say his name lights him up inside. It’s alway so warm, so inviting, so smooth—like when butter spreads perfectly even on a piece of toast. The gentleness of each consonant and vowel that escapes your lips never fails to chip away and brush off the stress of whatever is weighing him down; from his day job to his nightly activities, you—every last bit of you, is his solace.
“I was half afraid that I’d get your answering machine,” he breathes as he leans back in his chair, listening to how you move the receiver from one ear to the other.
“I’m sorry, Matt. Today has just been hectic. Meetings, email approvals, we rearranged some furniture because no one was responding to emails—.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize.”
“I do if it means I worried you. I mean, I must have missed calls and texts on my cell from you if you resorted to my landline.”
“No, not worried. I was just curious if you wanted to go out to dinner tonight. Maybe try that new Italian place that opened up a few blocks from your apartment.”
“I didn’t know there was a new restaurant opening.”
“Yeah,” he lies. “It’s a small place. Intimate, nice.”
“Well, I don’t know how I could say no to that. It sounds like the perfect thing to make me forget today.”
“Take deep breaths, sweetheart. You’ll get through it. I’m here for you.”
“I know,” you breathe. “Listen, I need to get back to work, but I’ll see you tonight.”
“I’ll pick you up at six.”
“Perfect. I love you, Matt.”
“Love you, too.”
You exchange soft goodbyes before hanging up the phone, Matt sliding his cell back into the pocket of his slacks.
“Hey, Karen?” he calls out.
“Yeah?” she responds, sounding as if she’s lost in thought with whatever is at hand.
“What time is it?”
She pauses. “Almost 2:30.”
“You think that you and Foggy will be okay for the rest of the day?”
“I think so.”
“Great,” he says with a smile, standing up and putting on the suit jacket that was hanging on the back of his chair. “I’m heading out. I need to get some groceries to surprise my girlfriend.”
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Matt undoes the last of your door’s locks as the bag of groceries rests on his hips, relieved when the heavy piece of wood starts to swing open. For as frustrating as your day was, Matt secretly hopes that you won’t come home early and catch him in the middle of his surprise; it took him a lot longer to get everything he needed at the store, throwing off his timing. He’d be lucky if he got everything plated by the time you got home. Matt lets out a deep breath as he places the bag of groceries on the counter and takes his glasses off, centering himself to focus on the plan and not let his race against the clock shake him too much. After hanging his jacket on the hooks by the door, he rolls up his sleeves and throws his tie over his shoulder before taking out his phone, tapping at the screen until he finds the recipe he saved for tonight.
As his phone reads off the list of ingredients, he feels over what he grabbed, cursing when he notices that he’s missing garlic powder.
“She has to have some,” he hums. He knows you like to cook, always eager to try new recipes that you find while scrolling on your phone, and therefore always getting new spices and ingredients to make sure your kitchen is stocked for whatever the next interesting dish brings. Lucky for Matt, you two are always over each other’s place, craving one another’s presence, so he knows your apartment almost as well as he knows his own. Turning around to the skinny cabinet where Matt knows you keep your spices, he opens it up and prepares his nose for the strong mix of smells that are about to hit him so he can sniff out what he needs. As his hand extends into the cabinet, what he doesn’t expect to find is small bumps over each and every label. It’s odd, but familiar. Grabbing one of the spices in the front, he carefully takes it off the shelf and runs his fingers over the bumps once more.
Nutmeg.
Matt lets out a shaky breath, tears stinging at his eyes. He reaches up for container after container, running his fingers over all of the labels, finding that he’s able to read them all. By the time Matt grabs the garlic powder, the cabinet is practically empty and he’s crying in the kitchen.
“Matt?” he hears you call tentatively. He didn’t even hear you come in, and now you’re at his side, wrapping him in a hug and holding him close to soothe him. God, he loves when you hold him. Call it being touch-starved, but nothing felt better to Matt than when you have your arms around him. Sure, being in your apartment is comforting—your smell surrounding him and engulfing his senses, but nothing was better than the actual thing, your body against his, skin to skin. “Matty, is everything okay?”
“Uh, yeah,” he sniffles, holding you close and kissing your forehead. “It’s just, uh, well this.”
You pull back slightly from his hug and wipe away some of his tears before peeking down to see what’s in his hands.
“Garlic powder?” you try. “Is it bad?”
“No, no,” he smiles, wiping away some stray tears with the heel of his hand. “It’s great.”
“I thought we were going out to dinner tonight. But with all my spices out, something tells me you might have fibbed.”
“I did fib. I wanted to surprise you with dinner, especially after hearing about your day, but you’re the one that surprised me.” Taking your hand, he gently guides your fingers over the label to where the braille is.
“Oh.” Matt listens to how the blood rushes to your cheeks and how your heart rate picks up. “The label.”
“The label,” he echos softly.
“I finally found a good braille label maker that I liked,” you begin to explain. “I mean, we’re always at each other’s place. I wanted to make my home feel a little more homey for you.”
“You really love me, huh?”
He listens to how you smile from ear to ear. “So much more than you’ll ever know, Matty.”
Putting the garlic powder down, he takes your face in his hands and pulls you in for a deep kiss, your arms happily snaking around him and holding him close.
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Matt Murdock Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters
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linoveins · 4 months
Note
hi sweetie, how are u? i luv ur writings ^^
could you write a fic about lino's tummy scar? i'm so soft about it, wanna worship him 🥺
a/n: hi!! i'm really stressed with uni rn :( i finally found time to write this though! it's just simple and short i hope u like it!! i felt all warm and fuzzy writing this. i adore minho sm i wanna worship him toooo (also have you seen the latest pics of him he looks so buff like DAMN)
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idol!minho is really busy and tired from work lately. reader misses him and takes matters into their own hands.
genre: smut, fluff, some angst
warnings: MDNI! oral m!receiving, body worship, mentions of dom minho, dirty talk.
w.c.: 1.6k
minho had been busy lately from all the comeback preparations. you knew how hectic his schedule was so you don't blame him for the lack of quality time between you two.
you know how physically and mentally exhausting it is for him, waking up at 6 in the morning and often coming home past midnight.
you have been together for multiple comebacks now. you knew the drill. both of you did. and still you can't get used to it. but you didn't wanna add onto the things he was thinking, and all of this was really out of both your control, so you just made the most of what you had. but you still miss him.
sure, whenever he comes home, he lays on his side of the bed and pulls you closer to him from behind. sometimes he leaves a trail of soft kisses on your shoulder before passing out.
but you miss more of him. so when he came home a little bit earlier tonight, just an hour before midnight, you can't help but tackle the man in bed and hug him tight. you were practically squeezing and grabbing his skin while you buried your face on the crook of his neck.
you inhale him in.
you latch onto his figure, your body on top of him hugging impossibly tighter, and you all but melt.
he smells so good. so familiar and warm and just... good. you nuzzle your head deeper into his neck as you hear him chuckle and wrap his arms around you.
"you missed me, jagi?" minho says softly while running his hand down your back with the other, petting your hair.
you hum in agreement while licking his neck, just smelling him not enough anymore.
"smell so good, min." you mumble against his skin in between soft kisses.
minho coos at your actions. you're too adorable right now.
soon enough you started biting and sucking on his neck. you wanted to swallow him. you haven't felt him for so long you thought you were gonna lose your mind.
"mmh.. you want something, baby?" minho says, his breathing a bit labored. he missed you so fucking much too.
you remove yourself from the comfort of his neck to really look at him.
his eyes were gazing up at you tiredly, but still full of love and longing. you can see him trying to fight his eyes from closing.
"i just want you. but you're tired-"
"it's okay, i want you too. just give me a moment-"
"shh." you kiss his lips softly. and then his nose, and then leaving a bunch of kisses on his temple. "can i take over for now? wanna make you feel good. wanna take care of you this time."
you say it so sweetly with pleading eyes. how can he deny you, really?
"okay, baby."
you smile brightly at that, and minho feels like his heart is about to burst.
his sweet angel. the sweetest. what did he ever do to deserve you?
noticing the furrow on his brow, you planted a kiss to it.
"don't worry. just relax. it's okay if you fall asleep. my baby has been working so hard..."
your hands start to run over his chest, and you notice how big he's gotten. you gave one of his pecs a squeeze and he laughs.
"yah, stop playing."
"okay, okay. help me take this off." you tug on his shirt. "wanna kiss all of you."
"yeah?" minho says with a teasing smile before helping you get his shirt off.
and holy fuck.
his PT sessions really did one on him. his chest had gotten bigger and firmer. not just that. you can tell he's getting more buff all over.
"jagi." minho says, pulling you out of your trance.
"min, holy shit! so beautiful.." your soft hands run all over his exposed body and he can't help but shiver at the contrast of your warmth from the chill of the room.
"you like it?" he teases, obviously already knowing the answer.
you answer with a lick on his pecs and you can feel him stiffen beneath you. you're groping and squeezing all over and minho can't help the huffs slipping past his pretty lips.
"jagiya, don't tease." he warns.
"but you're so pretty." you whine while kissing his skin. "your arms have gotten bigger..."
you gave them a firm squeeze.
"so strong." you feel minho's cock twitch at the praise. "you could easily take me. any way you want."
your voice is dizzying. your words are sending him to heaven. you're regularly not this vocal. well, not with coherent words coming out of your mouth. but usually, it's him doing the talking. so this is new. he feels like he's floating.
"and these." you squeezed his pecs again. "you always complain about working out. but you did it. im so proud of you."
you leave a bunch of wet kisses down his torso until you reach his scar. you know minho wasn't the type to show off his body. he thought his scar isn't exactly something people would like to see.
when you both first had sex, the lights were all off as per your wishes. what you didn't know was that minho wanted that too for his own concerns since he didn't want to let you see him that time.
once you two got more comfortable with each other, you assured him the scar looked "sexy as fuck", which made him laugh.
and it really was. minho thought you just said that cause you loved him, and since the scar was on him, your love would naturally extend to that. but no, even just the scar on him is really hot. he still didn't believe you so you told him "it's like toji fushiguro with his scar". he kinda got it after that.
you kissed the permanent mark on his body, whispering out a little "pretty".
minho was incredibly horny at this point but his heart also felt heavy from the overwhelming emotions you're pulling out of him.
you lick the length of the scar, and his cock pokes at you from within his sleep shorts.
"baby-"
"i got you." you whisper softly while trailing more wet kisses down his belly until you reach the hem of his shorts.
minho hisses as you pull the material down, his heavy dick springing up.
your soft hand grips the shaft and he clenches his jaw hard.
"always so hard and pretty for me." you say with gentle strokes. "so big..."
minho can't help the little whimper escaping his throat.
you're driving him insane.
"love hearing you, min." you swipe your thumb on the tip and give it a gentle squeeze. "i always cum so hard when you're panting in my ear."
minho moans loudly at your words. his sweet baby is talking so dirty. all his.
his cock looks fucking good in your hand right now, all red, and hard, and fucking leaking. you lick the head for a taste and it takes everything out of minho not to cum fast.
it's been so long. but you're here again, all pretty and enchanting with his cock in your mouth.
soon enough, you started sucking him off, trying to take as much as you can in your mouth and gripping the rest of what you can't fit with your hand. you're minding your teeth, swirling your tongue just how he likes it, and drooling on it.
the squelches are driving both of you crazy. he tried his best to open his eyes and he starts gripping the sheets hard so he wouldn't use them to hold your head and just fuck up into it.
minho wasn't really a man of spirituality and religion but this? you deserved all of his devotion. your eyebrows are scrunched in focus, eyes a bit teary and hazed from taking his cock just how he likes it– just how he taught you, and your fucking mouth. your pretty fucking lips wrapped around him, your hot, and wet tongue- it's too fucking much.
and you're moaning. you're moaning on his cock as if you're the one getting the most pleasure out of it. his sweet messy fucking angel.
after a couple of squeezes from your hand and swirls from your tongue, you could feel him tightening, and you look up right into his eyes.
he cums hard, moaning your name coupled with strings of praises. you keep licking and swallowing all he could offer. your personal fucking God.
minho is breathing heavily, still trying to calm down from the intense orgasm. he's long gone but it's okay. you clean up the other mess and take care of him like you said you would and like he always does.
"thank you, jagi." minho smiles as he kisses you on the lips. he tries to escalate it further, pushing his tongue past your mouth, but you break the kiss.
"mmh- you should sleep. you have an early day tomorrow." you say while minho groans.
"but you-"
"some other time. you're barely awake!" you giggle while minho tries to grab you. you can't believe you're getting away with interrupting him multiple times tonight. you bet his half-asleep brain can't even register that right now. you laugh softly at his cuteness.
he eventually just cuddles you, his breathing now even and his eyes closed.
"i love you, y/n. m'sorry for not being here a lot." he says sleepily, whispering into your ear.
"i love you too. and don't worry. i'll keep being here when u get home."
"miss you... a lot. wanna make it up to you" minho mumbles while pulling you closer.
"you will." you melt into his embrace. "but sleep for now, hm?. i miss you too. so much..."
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uncouth-the-fifth · 5 months
Text
i'd like to report a crime - Leon Kennedy/Reader
read it on Ao3.
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Pairing: Agent!Leon/Detective!Wife!Reader Tags: anxious work stress + leon comfort!!, leon being a fucking goober Notes: when i'm at work I'm always picturing him swooping in to save me...... leon kennedy if you can hear me please protect me from 9-5 hell... and like I said before, I would LOVE requests or prompts for this fic, I have so many ideas but I can't commit to any of them lol.
Standing in the bullpen at work today, you had a thought. Maybe they called it “medieval torture” because that was a whole lot catchier than “a shitty day at the busiest police precinct in Washington DC.”
It certainly felt like medieval torture to you. Before you’d even stepped into your big girl pants this morning, you knew that today was going to suck. Plain and simple. Suck. Yet another presidential event was bringing the Secret Service’s jurisdiction into your already hectic station, meaning that big square dudes in suits were going to be breathing down your neck until quitting time. You had three huge active cases that needed your attention. One of those cases came pre-packaged with a deeply annoying lawyer, who, in your professional opinion, has his head shoved a foot up his ass. He will absolutely be showing up to bother you today.
And worst of all: in your haste to get to work (Leon had put some serious effort into making you late), you’d accidentally worn a pair of super uncomfortable shoes! So now every waking moment of your existence was bonafide torture.
Clamping your jaw, you glance up from the paperwork in front of you and check your watch. Three o’clock. Right, okay, you can work with that.
You slap your hands down on your desk as you push out of your seat, and it gets a satisfying yelp out of the man sitting cross-legged beside it. He bristles up like a porcupine and nasally complains, “Where are you going, Detective Kennedy? You said we could—”
“Coffee, Douglas,” you bite back to said lawyer.
The last thing you want right now is some of the lousy, watered-down coffee from the station’s breakroom, but taking mini-breaks at your desk is just not an option anymore. Douglas has been camped out there from the moment you clocked in, and since you both refuse to budge, he’s going to stay there. Breakroom it is. You wince the whole way there, cursing your shoes from hell.
Someone forgot to start another pot of joe, so you have the absolute pleasure of doing it yourself. A small blessing in disguise, really. You give the glass pot your best thousand-yard-stare the whole time it heats the water, and just when the outline of it is starting to burn behind your eyelids, you’re jolted out of your glazed reverie by a cheerful, “Detective Kennedy!”
The officer appears at your side like she was there the entire time, and you wouldn’t put it past her—Giana is the latest in a long line of rookies who have imprinted on you over the years. Good kid, but a little on the overeager side.
She gives you a sympathetic frown and launches into way too much bubbly talking for your aching head to handle. “Heyo! Man, it’s crazy today, huh? You look beat, detective. Hey, think of it this way—just a few more hours and we’ll be home free! Any fun plans tonight?”
The question triggers a movie-style flashback sequence in your mind, complete with black-and-white visuals and some tasteful dream fog. Leon, your husband, boredly poking around the aisles of a new Target by your place. Leon discovering the boys' toy section. Leon, your beautiful, amazing husband, going starry-eyed at the massive NERF Elite Titan CS-50 Toy Blaster, which you’re pretty sure you need a license to operate.
He’d tapped the Nerf box like a boy on Christmas morning. “150 foam bullets, baby.”
But it would take a lot of energy to relay all of that to Giana. So instead of explaining that you’re having an epic Nerf duel with Leon when you get home (no headshots, loser makes dinner), you cooly answer: “...Spending time with my husband.”
Giana hums. “It’s so weird to me that you’re married…” (Thanks.) “I can’t even picture you not grinding away at some case.”
The coffee machine burbles out its last sad spit of coffee. You pour a good amount into your mug, smiling, “Oh, Leon’s just as bad. We’re both married to our work. He’s just my favorite mistress, s’all.”
Giana opens her mouth to launch into another cheery tirade you can’t catch up with. You like the girl, but on top of being way too eager, she’s also painfully see-through. For example, you don’t even have to turn around to know that a gloriously hot guy has just walked into the bullpen behind you. It’s written all over Giana’s owlish look over your shoulder. Hell, you can even clock that he’s heading straight this way—not only does Giana cross herself to bid away impure thoughts of the stranger, but she evaporates into smoke out of pure shyness.
“Look out!” She stage-whispers.
Aw. Poor girl, you think as she waddles away. Considering who’s going to be unloading a clip of foam bullets into you later this evening, (what a strange double entendre), you’re basically immune to hot guys. You can handle this.
“Excuse me, detective, I’d like to report a crime?”
All sense of professionalism poofs off your face at that familiar voice. You whirl to face your husband, and in one swift slash, the ten ton weight of your stress is slapped clean off your back.
Leon’s resting stare has slowly been absorbed by his Serious Agent Face. But today, he’s smoldering less in the business way and more in the off-duty model way. In a white tee, jeans, and racing-striped leather jacket, he certainly looks the part, clean-shaven and dewy-skinned. Fuck him and his unblemished skin. What Umbrella moisturizer was he using back in the day, dammit?
You’re capable of joking again and fall flawlessly into the bit. “Of course. What kind of crime, beautiful?”
He isn’t really able to look flustered, but you think you get close to the impossible with the way his head tilts at that line. You notice that he’s hiding something behind his back.
“A theft,” he answers. The tiniest smirk twitches on his mouth. “My heart’s been stolen.”
…What a fucking cornball. The tragic part is that you find the joke pretty funny, and not completely in the ironic way. He waits for you to giggle and twirl your hair or what-the-fuck-ever, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction, ducking into his quick hug to grin into his shoulder.
You groan at his awful joke. “Jesus. You need a fork for all that corn, Leon?”
“I take mine off the cob,” he drawls in your ear. With that voice, he could make anything sound suggestive.
You’re about to pout at him for failing to return your hug, when you draw back and see that his hands are full. It’s then that Leon presents his bounty to you, bowing his head and holding his trophies aloft like a knight giving respect to his princess: in one hand, one of the stupid expensive coffees you like, and in the other… your comfiest work flats.
“How?” is the first thing your fish brain manages to say. Because, truly, how does he always know? The coffee, the shoes— “Did you put a tracker in me? One that tells you everything I’ve been complaining about all day?”
You go slumping down into the nearest seat, mystified by him. Leon sets the still-steaming coffee down in front of you and kneels, stooping to help you out of your shoes-from-hell. The strap around your ankle has rubbed the bone raw even through your tights. He gets the clasp loose on the first shoe with little fussing, then soothes the skin with tender brushes of his thumb.
“Mhm,” he hums. All you can see of him from this angle is the layers of color in his hair, deep browns and ash blondes blending into one another. The smug pride in his voice is obvious—he loves knowing he’s read you well. “Tells me when you’re hungry, too. Have lunch with me?”
Please god, your body begs. Just picturing it loosens some of the tension in your neck. Like last time, the two of you would play-fight over where to eat, and your cute little delivery boy would go pick up the winner. That way, you wouldn’t have to waste a single moment of your allotted thirty-minute lunch. Leon would pull up a seat at your desk (maybe scare Douglas off with a flash of his badge), and you’d get a blissful, uninterrupted dose of him. Enough to get you through the rest of your shift.
He’d be too deep in Professional Agent Mode to babble like he does at home, but Leon’s raspy chuckles and his hand on your knee would tide you over til’ five.
…But no, the universe is never that kind to you. You wince at Leon’s offer and drop an apologetic hand to his shoulder, still knelt at your feet and working on your other shoe. He’s too good to you. “M’ sorry, baby, but I think I’m gonna have to work through lunch if I wanna get home on time. Rain check?”
He doesn’t mind. He throws a squinty warning stare your way, not happy that you’re getting dangerously close to overworking yourself, but he understands.
A sly smile creeps onto Leon’s face as he helps you slip on a flat. “I could talk to your Captain. What if you were pulled away for a ‘federal emergency?’”
“Then I think me and my Captain would implode from stress,” you laugh. “He’d think I’d been drawn into some national crisis or something.”
Leon scoffs. “That’s only happened, like, once.”
The other flat welcomes your poor, aching foot like a jacuzzi hot tub, and you take a deep magical sip of the overpriced coffee he got special for you. It trumps the watery breakroom joe any day.
For a minute you’re so stupidly happy that you could easily punch a boulder clean off a cliff. Hell, you might even twirl your hair.
“One too many times!” You groan. Since he’s being all cute and kneeling at your feet, you can’t resist poking him a couple of times to be silly. In the chest. In the cheek. In the heart. Stage-whispering, you accuse, “I think you just like having excuses to work with me.”
Leon finishes helping you into your shoes, but he’s in no hurry to leave his spot. One of his rough hands finds yours in your lap and toys with your wedding band, twisting it, testing the groove where it’s been sitting for a few years now. Those big blue eyes fix on your face. You’re married to the guy, but something about being the subject of all his naked attention makes you feel like shrieking into a damn pillow. He’s the best. Judging by that mean little smile on his face, he knows it’s true.
He gives your hand a little squeeze and points out, “I was your partner before anyone else. We never got our buddy cop beat—so yes, I will shove myself into your world since I can’t pull you into mine.”
You’re grateful he still thinks that way. Getting him to talk about Raccoon is harder than pulling teeth, but this—your partnership, whether that be as cops in an imaginary second life, or as husband and wife—never fails to pry him right open.
You’d been asked before if it was frustrating, how your paths had split after the city had blown. The two of you had come from the same spot and endured the same things, but where Leon had soared up, you’d kept to what you knew. No part of you envied him for it. In his mind, the two of you were still the same unit you’d been then, endlessly loyal to one another. You watched Leon’s back and—clearly, he watched yours.
“You’re my favorite,” you tell him, sweetly petting his chin. “I’m gonna fucking destroy you at our Nerf duel when I get home.”
All the buttery tenderness wipes from his face, and in an instant he’s on his feet, clapping a scarred hand down onto your shoulder and bending to whisper fiercely in your ear. “I’d like to see you try.”
He smushes a kiss to your cheek, waves a friendly, “See ya,” and melts back into the current of the rowdy bullpen. You hate to see him leave, but by god, you love to watch him go.
A few seconds after Leon says his goodbye, Giana, your rookie, peers around the open door of the break room. Her patchy blush goes all the way down to her uniform collar. “...Nevermind. I can definitely picture you married, Detective Kennedy…”
-
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strawberryya · 1 year
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notice me!
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pairing: jihoon x reader
synopsis: Your boyfriend has a hectic life, but he usually has at least a little time to spare for his girlfriend. Now it has been two months since he last spent some alone time with you and you're losing your mind just a little over it... luckily, angry make-up sex can solve any problem!
word count: 2.1k
genre/cw: smut, angry sex, also make-up sex, established relationship, feeling neglected in relationship and bad ways of handling said feeling, unprotected sex, manhandling, light choking, fem reader, musician/producer! woozi.
rating: 18+
a/n: I had a moment a couple weeks ago where I wrote this whole thing in one hour in the middle of the night, and then I forgot about it and now I'm in shock just a little bit... anyhow, yay angry sex with wooziiii
network tagging: @svthub @cultofdionysusnet @k-labels @kvanity-main
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You watched your boyfriend of two years looking at his phone, scrolling mindlessly across whatever app he found more interesting than his girlfriend sitting on the other end of the couch. You were barely wearing anything, a large t-shirt barely covering the sexy lingerie you had put on for tonight. 
“Jihoon, it’s been two months.” 
You wanted him to notice you. He had barely been home at your shared apartment for weeks. You knew his work was demanding, and that he gave it his all no matter what. But you have been feeling neglected lately. He had been coming home late, crashing on the couch instead of sleeping in your bed. Only giving you a chaste kiss before running off to work the next morning with a groggy “Sorry I missed dinner last night,” as a greeting. 
He hadn’t touched you in two months. You had counted the days, and after three weeks you were wondering if he wasn’t stressing too much about the latest album. After six weeks you had been feeling too horny for your own good, and your toys weren’t fulfilling your needs anymore. You wanted to feel him again. It didn’t matter how many times you came. It didn’t hit the spot. After two entire months of him being abstinent, you had begun getting snarky at the smallest things he did wrong. 
Jihoon looked up from his phone at your statement. He carelessly scratched his chin, making your pussy clench at the memory of those perfect hands being all over your body once upon a time. “Two months? Of what?” 
“Of you acting like a damn nun,” you said, dead serious. 
“A nun?!” He gasped out. 
“Yes! A nun!” You shouted back at him. 
He looked you over, sitting at the other end of the couch, dolled up more than usual and staring at him as if he had offended yuo great grandmother by existing. Then it seemed to click in his mind. “Oh,” was all he said.
Two months? Had it been that long? He knew very well that he had been resisting his urges, but he had managed for two entire months? He had been so busy with the new album, he had been staying late at the studio every day and waking up rushing back to the studio to put the new ideas he got during the night into reality. Two months without sex, and a pissed off girlfriend because of it. 
“I’m sorry?” 
You looked at him like he was an equation, mouth open just a bit as you stared at him in shock. “You’re sorry? What the fuck does that mean?” He was so clueless, you thought as you watched the dumb face he was making. (You still wanted that stupid handsome face of his to eat you out until you cried, but that was besides the point.)
Jihoon knew he had fucked up, you were pissed off and picking a fight, and he hadn’t made it better by not even knowing that he hadn’t slept with you in two whole months. 
“Do you even care? Because you don’t seem to care one bit about it since you didn’t even know! Do you not like me anymore? Are you not attracted to me anymore? Are you in love with someone else? Why the fuck would you go and cheat on me?!”
He stared at you in complete surprise. Cheating? “Hold up- hold up! What are you talking about?!” He said, flabbergasted at the way you seemed to have drawn the most far-fetched conclusions to this problem you could’ve possibly thought of. “I’ve been busy with the comeback! Please, baby, why are you acting crazy?” 
He shouldn’t have said that, he knew it the second the word left his perfectly plump lips. 
“Crazy? Did you just call me crazy? You haven’t seen crazy, you fucking asshole!” You shouted as you stormed out of the room. You were packing your bags, if he didn’t want to be with you anymore you wouldn’t be the one to stop him from moving on and sleeping with whoever else he wanted. Because it sure as hell wouldn’t be you after he had just called you crazy for noticing that he wasn’t interested in you anymore. 
“What are you doing?? Why are you messing up the apartment? Are you leaving?” he shouted, seemingly surprised that you didn’t feel like staying in an apartment that he was hellbent on making a girlfriend-free zone. 
“Yeah, I’m fucking leaving,” you grunt, shoving some shirts into your bag. You wouldn’t be able to grab it all but at least you could make it with the stuff you were throwing into it for a while. Y9ou could always borrow your friends’ stuff until you could get back all your clothes. “You’re pissing me off and I don’t wanna hate you.”
Jihoon was by the bedroom door now, hands pushing his hair out of his face as he watched you angrily packing your bags. How had he fucked up so badly that his girlfriend wanted to leave him like this? 
“Hate me? Baby, I really don’t know what I did to mess up this bad…” 
Of course, he didn’t understand, because apparently, your boyfriend was a freaking master at staying “pure”. He hadn’t even spent a single thought on you and what he could do with you. He only cared about his music. And you wouldn’t be the one to stand in his way if thats how he truly felt. 
“You don’t know?! Look at me Jihoon!” You threw the t-shirt off your body in an angry fit, making your boyfriend’s eyes widen. “I’ve been waiting for you to notice me, to care even a bit about me- about us- for months!! And tonight, I just can’t do this anymore. I’m losing my mind because you won’t fuck me, how stupid is that?” You nearly sobbed as you made it clear that you were frustrated in more than one way. You were so mad at him, and still, you couldn’t help but admire the way he looked so hot even now, his long black hair falling in pretty curls around his face and his lips shiny and pink. He looked so kissable it was like he was teasing you just by existing. 
“You got me all addicted to your cock and then you fucking left me to go through some kind of twisted withdrawal.” 
He gulped, his adam's apple moving in his throat, you didn’t even care to look at him anymore, you were angrily throwing your shit into the bag on the bed yet again, bent over and flaunting the tiny piece of fabric that tried it’s best to cover your ass. “You don’t even care,” you rumbled as you stuffed more things into the bag. He took in the way the lace set hugged your curves deliciously, he had been so busy with everything he hadn’t even noticed his own cravings. He had ignored it all for so long. 
“Shut up.”
His voice was deep, and commanding. Your breath caught in your throat, surprise and need mixing in an arousing blend that went straight to your head. “Excuse me?” Your movements paused completely. When you heard his footsteps approaching you hastily you looked at him, his gaze was darkened, and your core clenched around nothing as he pulled the bag from your grasp. Throwing it on the ground before he pushed your barely clothed body into the bed. 
“You think I don’t fucking care anymore just because you haven’t gotten dick in a couple weeks? Are you that desperate to be stretched like a little whore?” He growled in your ear, his bulge evident in the way he pressed against your ass. “I care, and I see you. So shut up.” 
You gasped at his harsh movements, neediness soaking your panties in record time. God, you were pathetic. 
“I haven’t eaten, I haven’t slept, and I sure as hell haven’t let myself even think about this sweet pussy of yours. I’ve been denying myself it all. But you’re right…” his hand pressed against your throat where you laid face down on the bed, “I’ve been neglecting you. You wanna know why? It’s because I knew that if I so much as looked at you, or held you in my arms while you slept so innocently, I wouldn’t be able to help myself. I wouldn’t have been able to do anything but fuck your tight little pussy all day and night.” His growling voice set off all kinds of sparks in your core. You needed him, now. 
You pushed your ass up against him, eating a groan from your boyfriend. “Such a little slut,” he mumbled, letting go of your throat and pulling himself back from you completely. You were dizzy from the hold around your throat, his perfect hands remembering just the way you liked to feel them around you. You were about to whine when his touch left your body when you heard the familiar shuffling of his clothes falling off his body. You wanted to see it, take his form in properly after all these weeks. But he was faster, pushing you back down against the bed before you got up. 
His erection pressed against your heat, making you moan as he prodded against the soaked fabric covering your entrance. 
“Jihoon, please,” you mewled, wiggling underneath his firm body. 
“Wanna shut up and let me fuck you then since you’re so fucking needy?” 
“Please, yes! Anything! Please fuck me!” You almost cried as you pleaded with him. 
“Sobbing over cock, you really are such a dirty girl for me.” He groaned as he let his pretty hands smooth over one of your asscheeks, smacking down hard and leaving a burning sting after him. Even that felt good. You needed him more than you had ever needed anything in your life. 
You felt him pull the sticky fabric from your core, pushing it aside in favor of pushing the head of his hard cock against your messy pussy. “I’m about to drown in you later tonight, just you wait.” He whispered before pushing past your entrance, slipping inside, your walls lubing his cock up as he entered. He ignored the way you were so tight it almost hurt to push all the way inside, your moaned pleas for him to go deeper, and the way you were gripping the sheets while he pushed all of himself inside of your dripping heat enough of a reason to push through. It had been so long since he had felt your walls gripping around him that he could’ve spilled his seed into you right then and there. 
He pulled himself together soon enough, thrusting into you at a brutal pace. Your ass which you had pushed up to meet his hips at first had been completely overpowered by the sheer force he was fucking you into the mattress with. You were coming for the first time within minutes. Screaming and sobbing as you finally came around him. He continued, repeating to you what a good toy you were, and how good of a girl you had been for holding out for him this long. 
When you were moaning again, closing in on a second orgasm he told you to come again. Lifting your ass up to balance you on your knees and chest, one of his arms wrapping around your hip to reach your clit, pressing down on it while he let his cock slip in and out effortlessly. Your arousal dripped down your thighs. You came undone and sobbed as he continued to overstimulate your abused cunt. 
He continued fucking you until he couldn’t take it anymore, his own orgasm crashing into him with such force it knocked the breath from his lungs. 
“That was one hell of an apology,” you said, breathless and still leaking cum, exhausted after having all your pent-up frustrations released all at once like this. 
Jihoon chuckled, a sound you had missed these past weeks as well. He really had been unusually absent in your life. It wasn’t just about the sex, you had missed him a lot. “I’m sorry for not being around as much,” he said, dragging a gentle hand over your back. You hadn’t had the energy to move a once from the position he had dropped your hips from once he had pulled out. 
“I just missed you, I’m sorry for lashing out.” 
“Don’t worry about it, just… next time you should just ask me to fuck you instead of threatening to leave me.”
You were embarrassed now, you had acted like a complete maniac, but my god - if that’s how he fucked a maniac, you wanted to stay crazy for the rest of eternity. 
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Reblogging and commenting is highly appreciated!! Hearing what you thought is what makes writing and being here overall so much fun! Ty and ily 💕
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midnightjewel · 3 months
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BNHA Guys Reacting to Your Kids Cartoons and Movies
Kids shows and movies say some pretty out of pocket things that you usually won’t catch or find funny unless you’re an adult
Characters Included: Bakugo and Kirishima
Part 2
Bakugo
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As Bakugo arrived home he couldn’t help but sigh deeply as he stretched out the stress of the hectic work day. As he turned his key in the door, he didn’t hear the usual loud noise coming from inside the house as you struggled to wrangle the kids into bed. He had hoped that you had gotten them to settle with no issue tonight but his hopes were not high. His brats were terribly energetic at night.
As he strides into the house, hanging his keys on the hook by the door to avoid the hassle of looking for them in the morning he hears the faint sound of the tv coming from the family room. The lights were off but as he got closer he saw the flashing lights of the television. The ash blond man peered into the family room and smiled slightly as he saw his two sons sitting at the coffee table munching on chicken nuggets and some french fries. One had ketchup and one had ranch despite them both being exact carbon copies of him and each other he found it kind of funny that they were quite the opposite of each other when it came to the little things like that.
He decided against nagging them for being up so late. At least they weren’t fighting and that’s all he cared about to be completely honest. He couldn’t imagine having to deal with the bickering after the long day he had. He was about to walk to the kitchen to fix something quick to eat when something on the television caught his attention. The boys were watching ratatouille and the scene where Linguine is attempting to explain his little chef to Colette was on.
“I have this tiny… little…” the character attempts to reveal the rat in his hat that is the secret to his cooking success. Bakugo watches as the woman’s eyes advert down with a slightly disgusted look referring to something more suggestive and he can’t help but bust out laughing causing the boys to turn around with confused looks on their faces
“What?” His oldest son whom was only 8 years old questions him as his 6 year old brother has the same confused look on his features as they watch their father laugh at something that they couldn’t understand. “N-Nothing” he wipes a tear from the corner of his eye “Ah that’s great” he shakes his head as he walks into the kitchen while continuing to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” You raise an eyebrow as you close the dishwasher and start it. As he explains the scene to you, you can’t help but lightly laugh and shake your head at his immaturity for dirty jokes
Kirishima
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You had been out all day. Despite it being your day off you dropped your son off at school this morning, cleaned the entire house, and ran errands until it was time to pick Renji up from school and even then you still had to take him grocery shopping with you. As you walked into the house, cloth grocery bags on each arm you sighed deeply “I helped you mommy!” Your son smiles widely as he hold one of the bags. “Yes you did honey!” You explain as you both set the bags down in the kitchen yours on the island and his on the floor as he could not reach the island just yet.
“Go watch some TV while mommy gets dinner ready, yeah?” You smile at him and he nods “Okay Mommy!” He skips off to the television room that also doubles as his play room so you knew he’d be able to indulge in some of his toys and television while you worked on dinner
You breathed out in relief as you removed your heels. You hated heels even if they were short, you just had to look your best out in public. You couldn’t bare the idea of the media and tabloids saying anything about your appearance so you had made sure to always look your best. Some other pro hero’s wife’s may not care but you did. Maybe it was a bad thing but it would send you spiraling if there was a bad picture of you in the internet.
“Hey I’m home!” You hear your husband call out as he walks into the parlor of your large house. He put his shoes by the door and hangs his coat on the hook. “How’s my beautiful wife?” He gives you a kiss on your forehead “Did you enjoy your day off?” He inquired and you shook your head no. He looks taken aback by this response “No?” He questioned “But why?”
“Oh Eiji, I’ve just been running around all day doing errands” you sigh “I could really use a few minutes” you say as you complete putting away the groceries together. “Mhm” he nods “Do you need anything from me?” He questions and you nod “Yeah, can you watch Renji? He’s in the family room” you explain “Of course, anything for my lovely lady” he gives you a quick kiss and ushers you to go take a warm shower
“But what about dinner?” You ask as you both stand at the foot of the staircase that leads to the upstairs bedrooms “Don’t you worry about anything baby, I’ve got it all handled” he grins as you nod and start your journey up the stairs to the master bedroom.
As Ejirou walks to the doorway of the family room the movie that his son is watching catches his eye. He has always been a sucker for kids movies even as an adult. Renji was watching Toy Story and there was a scene between Woody and Bow Peep “I wanted to thank you for saving my flock” the porcelain doll speaks to the cowboy doll “Oh hey, it was nothing” he shrugs “What do you say I get someone else to watch the sheep tonight” she speaks in a tone almost too sultry for a kids movie “Oh yeah” he chuckles and the scene can’t help but make Kirishima chuckle a little bit
“What’s so funny dad?” The 7 year old turns with a confused look on his face “Nothing that just reminds me of me and your mom” he laughs to himself before walking to the kitchen to start dinner
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daenysx · 4 months
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Hurt/comfort, my favorite !!! How about aemond with a reader who gets angry when she gets overwhelmed, and him knowing exactly what she needs? Like a book and hot tea, knows not to touch her until she asks? Thank you sm bae and obvs you don't have to write this if you don't want to ! Ilysm and you're so talented, esp in hurt/comfort !!! 🩵🩵🩵
thank you so much for requesting and being so kind, i hope you enjoy!! <333 requests are open
modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader, hurt/comfort
aemond keeps the distance between you and him on the couch and suddenly you hate it.
you turn to look at him through glossy eyes, smudged mascara runs on your cheeks. you didn't mean to be so stressed out but can you really control how you feel under pressure? work has been hectic lately, you don't know how to finish everything you think of doing. you don't know anything.
your boyfriend has been patient with your little tantrum even though all he wanted was to keep you in his arms, safe and secured. he didn't touch you other than leading you to the couch with invisible fingers on your shoulder. he still doesn't touch you to not overwhelm you further. you want to wrap your arms around his shoulders, you want him to hold you until you stop breathing.
"aemond?" you say slowly.
"yes?" he turns to look at you. his fingers itch to hold you but he knows not to touch you without you touching him first. you still shake with anger and stress.
"can you- can we-"
"it's okay." he says. "just tell me what you want."
his voice is so gentle, so soft. you want to cry in his arms.
"can you hold me?"
your voice is so small, aemond wants to protect you from everything.
"of course." he replies. "come here."
you settle down on his lap, his arms are strong around your body. your head is buried on his neck just like he wants, he kisses your hair. you keep crying for a few minutes, he rubs your back and dries your fresh tears with his thumb. he is warm, his chest becomes a pillow.
"i'm sorry." you say when you finally calm down.
"don't." he says. "you've got nothing to be sorry for."
you look at him. he cleans the mascara stains on your cheek with his thumb.
"i was angry because of work." you start with a low voice. "i don't know how to finish things. i didn't mean to- upset you with my problems."
aemond gives you a broken smile. you talk as if he's never done the same to you. most of the time he's stressed, under so much pressure in his family's company and what happens to him affects you too. you're the kindest person he's ever known, always comforting him with your sweet touches and gentle words. he tries to do the same for you, but he feels like a failure now that you keep crying.
he gives you a big kiss on your forehead. "it's okay, sweetheart." he says. "you can be angry, you can be upset. it's been too overwhelming for you lately and- reacting to it is not your fault."
you put your head on his shoulder. aemond has never been good with people who needs comforting by him, most of the time he freezes and does nothing except waiting. with you, it's different. he always feels the urge to protect you, keep you safe. even if it's your own mind and your feelings that are battling against you right now, he'd try to fight.
he counts down minutes, careful with his fingers as he touches you. his fingers are soothing. you breathe in his cologne, the smell of the shampoo he likes. closing your eyes, there's only him. he holds you until your breathing turns normal, until your cheeks dry. he gives you a nice kiss on the side of your head when you move.
"can i make you some tea?" he asks, the most gentle you've ever heard him.
you nod, how can you refuse when he speaks as if the tea he makes will heal everything? he tucks you under your favorite blue blanket before he leaves for kitchen.
he comes back five minutes later. your eyes are heavy from the tears but you keep them open to see aemond. you're almost certain you won't be able to finish your tea but that doesn't matter. he'll make you countless cups of it if you ask him to.
you drink slowly, the room gets darker each minute as the sun goes down. aemond keeps your hand in his, his fingertips shaping little circles on your palm. you fall asleep with the half finished, nearly cold tea in your other hand.
he kisses your forehead and gives you a silent promise to never let go of your hand.
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goldengalore · 1 year
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Neglected
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A househusband!Harry fic.
Summary: Harry has been feeling neglected and unappreciated by Y/N, and she doesn’t realize it.
Word count: 2.7k
Warnings: angst, smut (sub!harry, soft dom!reader)
A/N: I woke up at 4am one morning with the urge to write this. Also listened to Tolerate It by Taylor Swift for more inspo!
***
In all the years that Harry has been married to Y/N, he has never felt neglected by her. Sure, there have been instances where her schedule became too hectic for them to spend much time together, but even then, her love and appreciation for him could be felt through her actions.
Lately though, that hasn’t been the case.
Work has been stressing her out, he can discern that much. And while she has never been one to let work stress affect her personal relationships, this past week has brought out a different side to her. A side that makes him feel small and invisible.
When she comes home, it’s like she wants nothing to do with him. She heads straight upstairs, telling him she’ll be down for dinner later. During dinner, she’ll ask their daughter, Savannah, about her day but won’t ask him. After dinner, she’ll go back upstairs without acknowledging whether the food was good or not, even when he cooks her favourite dishes. He’ll wash up in the kitchen and go up to their bedroom to find her already asleep on her side of the bed—or pretending to be asleep, it seems at times. If he tries to cuddle up to her, she’ll shrug him off and shift further towards the edge of the bed with her back to him.
He’s beginning to wonder if he unwittingly did something to upset her. Or maybe it’s all in his head. Maybe he should just suck it up. Surely, this won’t last forever and she’ll be back to her normal self soon enough…
It’s Friday now. He hopes that with the weekend on the horizon, Y/N will be in a much better mood when she gets home.
“Hi, lovie,” he greets her when she walks in through the door. “How was your day?”
She releases a heavy sigh as she slips off her heels. “Shitty, but at least it’s over, right?”
“Sorry to hear that.” He attempts to give her a hug, but it doesn’t last longer than a second before she pulls away with a tight smile.
She heads to the kitchen, dropping her bag and keys by the stairs along the way. He follows her like a lost puppy. Grabbing herself a glass of water, she collapses onto one of the dining chairs and chugs it down.
At least she didn’t go straight upstairs today, he thinks to himself, grasping for a silver lining.
She rolls her neck from side to side and rubs the back of her shoulder, wincing a bit. Harry moves to stand behind her. Shifting her hair over to one side, he starts massaging her neck and shoulders. He holds his breath, expecting her to brush him off, but instead, she reclines in her seat while he carefully presses his thumbs into the nape of her neck.
“Work has been such a pain lately,” she admits.
“I know. Could tell you’ve been stressed out.”
“It’s this new boss. She’s impossible to work with. She puts unreasonable deadlines on everything, expecting us to finish these huge, complicated tasks within days. Then, when people like me try to speak up about it, she’ll publicly shame us in front of the whole office and pile on even more work so that— Ow! Okay, H, you’re pressing too hard.” She reaches behind her to push his hands away.
“Oops. Sorry, love.” Fuck. She was finally opening up to him about why she’s been acting so cold, finally giving him more than just one-word responses or vague explanations, and he ruined it.
“It’s fine. I’m going to go take a shower.” She stands up.
“Wait,” he says, grabbing her hand.
She turns to him with a look of mild annoyance.
“Um, wh—why don’t I run you a hot bath?”
“Sure. Not too hot though, okay? I’d like to not burn my skin off.”
He chuckles at the comment, pretending that it didn’t sting a little. “Yeah, of course.”
He runs the bath and checks the temperature of the water multiple times while Y/N undresses in their bedroom. He’s about to check for a fourth time when she enters the bathroom in her white robe, which she hangs up on the wall hook. She settles into the tub and closes her eyes. Meanwhile, Harry watches from the doorway, wishing he could get in there with her and be close to her.
“Do you want me to stay?” he offers tentatively. “We can talk more about the stuff you’ve been dealing with at work.”
“Ugh, no, I don’t even want to think about work.”
“Oh. Well, we can chat about something else to get your mind off—”
“I’m not really in the mood to talk.” She opens her eyes briefly to look at him. “I’ll be down for dinner later, okay?”
Translation: Don’t bother me until dinner.
With a hollowness in his chest, he shuts the bathroom door and returns downstairs to the kitchen.
***
“Daaaaad?” Savannah calls to her father from the dining table, where she has decided to do her homework tonight.
“Yeeeees?”
“Can you help me with my homework?”
“Be right there.” He turns down the heat on the stove before walking over to his daughter, leaning over her to take a look at what she’s working on. Math. His worst enemy.
“I don’t understand this question,” she says, pointing to a lengthy word problem on the page with several multiple choice options.
He reads and rereads it a few times before attempting to solve it in his head. It seems easy enough… Until he realizes that the answer he came up with isn’t even one of the options. He asks Savannah how her teacher taught her to approach questions like this, and her explanation only confuses him even more. Math was tough when he was in school, but the way they teach it nowadays boggles his mind.
“I’ll go see if your mum can help.”
He heads upstairs to check if Y/N is done with her bath and finds her sitting at the foot of their bed in her robe, brushing her hair. The sun is setting outside. Its warm, amber glow spills through the curtains and falls across one side of Y/N’s face, casting a shadow on the other. She looks ethereal in this light, like a goddess, and he feels unworthy of her presence.
“Babe? Savannah needs help with her maths homework,” he tells her.
“Can’t you handle it?”
“I mean, I’m trying, but we both know how useless I am at maths,” he answers with a smirk, but she doesn’t even crack a smile.
“Harry, it’s grade school math, not rocket science.”
His face drops. “Well, yeah, but I— Never mind. I’ll figure it out.” He turns to leave but pauses in the doorway, turning back around to face her. “Y/N, are you… Are you upset with me? Have I done something wrong?”
He instantly regrets asking. Y/N closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose.
“No, H, I just need some time alone,” she states slowly. “Like, is that too much to ask? I can’t even have a second alone without you getting clingy and thinking I’m mad at you? It’s exhausting.”
His heart cracks for what feels like the millionth time that night. Clingy. His wife thinks he’s clingy. It’s not the first time he has been called that word. But it is the first time he has been called that word by her. And God, does it hurt like a dagger slicing through his chest.
“Sorry,” he mumbles before leaving.
He tries his best to help Savannah with the question, ultimately resorting to Google where he finds the solution posted on some forum a few years ago.
“Daddy, are you okay?” asks Savannah once her homework has been sorted.
He raises a brow at the odd, adult-like concern in his daughter’s voice. “Yes. Why?”
“You look sad.”
He forces a smile. “I’m not sad. There’s nothing wrong with being sad, of course. But I’m fine.”
She squints her big eyes at him suspiciously, drawing a genuine laugh out of him.
Kissing the top of her head, he says, “I’m going to finish making dinner, but let me know if you need anything else.”
“Okay. Thanks, Dad.”
That little token of appreciation means so much to him, he gives her another kiss on the head.
“You’re very welcome.”
***
Harry feels numb at dinner. His appetite is nonexistent. The food that he himself cooked with love and care tastes bland and flavourless to him. He has long zoned out on the conversation between Y/N and Savannah, which is completely unlike him, as someone who prides himself on being a good listener.
“H, you okay? You’ve barely touched your food,” comments Y/N. It shocks him that she even noticed.
“Daddy’s sad,” Savannah blurts out.
Y/N frowns, studying him from across the table. “Sad about what?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.” He stares down at his plate and changes the subject. “Does anyone else feel like the pasta sauce is missing something? I followed the recipe to a tee and still messed it up somehow.” He shakes his head, frustrated with his inability to get anything right today.
“No, it’s perfect,” says Y/N. “As always.”
She’s praising him. So why does he feel like crying?
“Where are you going?” she asks as he pushes his chair back and rises to his feet.
“I have a headache. Going to lie down for a bit. Just leave the dishes in the sink. I’ll take care of it later.” He places his unfinished plate on the kitchen counter and leaves.
Tears are flooding his eyes before he has even reached the top of the stairs. By the time he gets to the bedroom, they’re spilling onto his cheeks. He doesn’t bother wiping them away. Instead, he just climbs under the covers on his side of the bed and lets his pillow soak them up.
It’s hard to tell how much time has passed before he hears Savannah’s voice down the hall, telling her mother goodnight, and then moments later, the light creak of the bedroom door opening, followed by Y/N’s footsteps approaching the bed. The mattress dips behind him.
“H?” she says softly.
“Hmm?”
“You still awake?”
He clears his throat and tries to keep a steady voice as he replies, “Yeah. You need anything?”
“No, just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine. Just a headache.”
“Do you need anything from me? Painkillers? A cup of tea?”
How about kisses? Or cuddles? Or any kind of attention that doesn’t involve you glaring at me like I’m a waste of space? he answers in his head, but out loud he says, “I’m fine. Thank you, love.”
“You know, you keep saying you’re fine and I don’t know if I believe you.”
He doesn’t respond.
She places a hand on his arm over the covers. “Look at me.”
“I’m fine, Y/N,” he emphasizes stubbornly.
“Can you please look at me?”
He sighs. A part of him is tempted to snap at her and tell her to leave him alone, to hurt her the way she hurt him, but he doesn’t have it in him to do that. In fact, the last thing he wants right now is to be left alone. What he really wants is to be held by her, to be told that he is loved and appreciated and wanted.
When she gently tugs on his arm to make him turn around, he doesn’t resist. Her eyes scan his face, taking in the tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes.
“Oh, honey.” She brings a hand to his cheek. He’s been so deprived of her touch that he leans into it immediately. “Did I do this?” she asks with guilt-ridden eyes which suggest she already knows the answer to that.
“I feel like I can’t do anything right by you lately,” he says. “I just want to spend some time with you when you get home, but you never talk to me and you shoo me away any time I try to come near you. I don’t know what I did, but lately, I feel more like an annoying pest that you have to tolerate than your husband. And maybe that makes me clingy or whatever—”
“That does not make you clingy,” she interjects, shaking her head adamantly. “I’m sorry I called you that, and I’m sorry I made you feel this way. I’ve just been under so much pressure at work. That’s no excuse for how I’ve been treating you, but I need you to know that it has nothing to do with you, okay? You haven’t done a single thing wrong.”
He sniffles. “Really?”
“Yes, baby. The only reason I’ve been pushing you away is because I come home with all this pent-up frustration and I don’t want to take it out on you by accident… But it looks like I’ve been doing that anyway.” She wipes a tear from the corner of his eye and kisses him tenderly. “I’m sorry, honey.”
She gets under the covers with him and guides his head to her chest, tangling her fingers into his hair. He nuzzles his face close to her breasts. She apologizes again and reassures him that he’s the best husband she could have ever asked for, that she still looks forward to coming home to him at the end of each day, that she loves him more than words can ever explain.
Her delicate touches mixed with her comforting voice telling him everything he needed to hear soothes his aching heart. They cuddle in silence for a while, their legs intertwined with each other. Y/N shifts around a bit while keeping him close to her. When her thigh brushes up against his crotch, she freezes.
“Are you hard right now?”
“Fuck, um… yeah?” he mumbles into her chest nervously, his face growing hot.
She giggles. “Well, let’s take care of it.”
“You don’t have to.”
“No, you deserve it.”
She sits up on the bed beside him, while he lays on his back, gazing up at her, melting when she gives him a warm smile. Her hand disappears under the covers, making its slow descent into the waistband of his shorts. He gasps when she gropes him through his briefs.
“I don’t think I’ll last very long,” he admits.
“That’s okay. Been a while since we’ve done this, huh?”
He nods, gulping as her fingers trace his bulge. Although he sometimes touches himself when he’s home alone during the day or in the shower, it’s never the same as when she does it. The orgasms lack the intensity he craves.
“My poor baby,” she coos, using her other hand to scratch the top of his head. “I haven’t been taking proper care of you. We’re going to fix that this weekend.”
She suddenly removes her hand from his shorts and takes off her shirt, revealing her braless torso. The sight of her gorgeous, round breasts makes his mouth water before she even invites him to suck on them. Moving his head into her lap, he wraps his lips around one nipple and swirls his tongue around the taut flesh.
Her hand ventures back into his shorts, this time slipping into his underwear. Instead of wrapping her whole hand around him, she uses only two fingers and her thumb, running them along his length in slow, gentle strokes that make his body shudder with pleasure.
“I’m so lucky to have you, you know that? Nothing you do for me goes unnoticed, I promise you,” she says.
The reassurance brings tears to his eyes again but happy ones this time. She wraps the rest of her hand around his cock, picking up the pace and pressure of her strokes. He thrusts his hips into her hand desperately as his orgasm builds. She tells him he can come whenever he’s ready, but he tries to delay it for as long as possible until he can’t any longer. Then he lets himself go, his moans and grunts muffled by her breast.
“There you go. Good boy.” She coaxes the last few drops of come out of him.
He rests his head in her lap afterwards, dazed and breathless, hoping that she’ll let him lay there a little while longer. Luckily, that’s exactly what she does, only moving to rest her back against the headboard to make herself comfortable while keeping his head in her lap, her fingers in his hair. He wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.
***
Thank you for reading! For more househusband!Harry and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST
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thedevilspearl · 1 year
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➛ out of office hours
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a/n: been craving a ceo!luci for so long so i decided to write it myself and i’m in love with him >_< am also thinking about him falling in love with you and i just—! <333333
tags: 4.2k words, ceo!lucifer x secretary!reader, female reader, dom!lucifer, oral sex (male and female receiving), rough sex, unprotected sex, cumming inside, ass slapping, degradation, praise, multiple orgasms, overstimulation. minors do not interact!
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you always felt the need for professionalism in your role as a secretary. especially with a boss as hot as yours.
he was terrifying at first, you will admit that. but having the raven–haired man bare down at you with those unruly eyes was the most exciting thing about the job. from the beginning, he watched you closely, his gaze raking up and down your form, taking in the way you do things so perfectly.
your profession is simple enough; organising files, preparing his documents, reading and directing e–mails and scheduling all of lucifer’s appointments are the routine kind of things you do.
but every now and then, a splash of wild colour enters the monotonous life as a secretary, and you find yourself on your knees beneath your cold and grumpy boss.
“that’s it,” lucifer sighs. “just like that.”
today was a world–wind of emotions for both you and lucifer. as the ceo, he is bound to have days filled with stress. and on those days, your bound to feel it tenfold as you are the one doing all of the work behind the scenes, supporting him as best you can.
through all the excessively long and draining meetings and the ruthlessly hectic business environment, you both managed to make it back in the office, despite it being late into the evening, long after business had closed for the day.
he finishes up some work on his computer, work you will need to catch up on later, and hums from the warmth of your mouth running up and down his cock. he relaxes into his chair, no longer paying attention to his screen and looks down at you tucked snugly under his desk.
squeezed in the space between his thighs, you forge eye contact with him as he brushes his hair back with slender fingers, revealing a slightly sweaty forehead and reddened cheeks.
you’re aware of how hard he tries to maintain the classic ceo persona — an emotionless robot who cares only for money and power — but when he’s with you, when he’s fucking you and using you and allowing you to use him how you please….it’s a marvel, to say the least.
his blush is enhanced with the ruby glimmers in his irises but the dark, lustful entity behind those eyes spur you on.
a mixture of whispery groans and praises escape him and you take it as your signal to suck in harder, then to tease him by pulling back and swirling your tongue around his cock, paying extra attention to his sensitive tip before taking him whole in your mouth again.
“mmh….fuck, keep doing it like that.” he orders and you obey.
you wonder if the pleasure you thrust upon him is what takes his moodiness away. seeing him slip into his relaxed self, his greedy and self–indulgent self while he gets off on your mouth is surely a sight no one else would see.
as far as you know, you’re the only one who does these things with him.
not that it’s an exclusive relationship, but lucifer has expressed he would only do such things with people he trusts and you happen to be one of them. conveniently, the only one he has regular access to.
and that’s how this situation began.
it’s rare, but every now and then when either of you need relief, you use each other. there are rules in place, of course. there always are with a man like lucifer.
the typical things like no strings attached and no kissing.
but your least favourite rule is no fucking.
feelings, kissing and fucking: all three of them would decimate the professional boundaries you have in place.
but that’s not to say you don’t have fun without all of that.
using your hands and mouths on each other is satisfying enough. and the opportunity to even look at lucifer’s cock, let alone suck him dry, is more akin to a blessing.
the feel of his cock in your mouth will never grow old. you hollow your cheeks, sucking harder and humming so the vibrations can send waves of pleasure up his cock and into his body. he twitches, rutting his hips into you, no longer restraining himself.
his hand plants itself into you scalp, using your head as he pleases until hot cum blasts into your mouth and his hips stutter between your lips. you watch with wide eyes as his face contorts in pleasure, and you feel your panties grow more soaked in your arousal.
you had already removed your shoes and blazer, but while you swallow the remnants of lucifer’s cum, you unbutton your shirt and kick off your skirt, leaving your bra and panties for him to remove. he steadily reaches behind you, not breaking eye contact, and unclasps your bra.
his dark orbs finally move away from yours, only to remain stuck on you breasts and perky nipples. you don’t miss the swipe of tongue across his lips; he’s hungry.
pulling him from his trance, you work on his own shirt, unbuttoning and pulling it from him with zeal. he meets your eagerness by pushing you down on his desk, tracing his fingers over your ankles and up your calves. he leaves kisses along the inside of your thighs, promising to go further.
and when he reaches the apex, he chuckles softly at the soaked stain leaking through your panties. you bare your wetness proudly, and his cock twitches knowing it’s all due to him. one chaste kiss over your panties causes you to quiver and a moment later, your panties are ripped from you.
your pussy glistens in the dimmed light of his office and your boss, who is a man with little time, wastes none when it comes to devouring you.
his hot mouth collides with your already burning pussy and you whine wantonly. he slobbers all over you, mixing your arousal with his own saliva before sucking it all back into his mouth. his tongue tickles between your folds, swiping up and down and swirling circles at the top where your most sensitive part hides.
and just when your clit is ready to explode with pleasure and send it adrift throughout your body, he smacks harsh, wet kisses on your lips, sucking and nibbling like his life depends on it.
“fuck! lucifer!” you squeal. “please make me cum!”
he buries his head deep between your thighs and you lock him in. you yearn for release and grind your hips into his face, to which he responds by licking and sucking your pussy with more vigour. and as you rock your pussy on his face, the pleasure builds up and explodes in an electrifying burst.
ripples of exultation flood your body, nourishing your flesh with the meaning of true bliss; a cause for you nerves to jubilate and rejoice. sparks dance along your skin and lucifer pulls away, gasping between your trembling thighs with his face glossed over from your pussy.
he kisses his way up slowly, leaving marks on your stomach and giving special attention to your breasts. he eyes you as he takes each nipple one after the other, and sucks. falling onto your elbows, you throw your head back and attempt to catch your breath, but lucifer makes that difficult as his lips snake up the skin of your neck and capture your lips in his own.
the sweet taste of your essence coats your tongue, but what surprises you more is how casual lucifer’s lips feel against yours. it’s the first kiss you’ve shared, yet it feels like you’ve kissed him a million times before, like he’s the only man you should ever kiss.
tiny cracks appear in the set of rules. he shouldn’t have kissed you, and you most certainly should not be kissing him back.
but you wrap your arms around his shoulders, silently telling him you are fine with this. more than fine, actually. you would rather die than move away from him now.
wrapped so closely together, embraced in each other’s lips and arms, it feels like it should be no other way.
his tongue reaches in and toys with yours in a playful fight for dominance and you hope this forbidden kiss could last forever, but you pull back slight when his cock rubs against your sensitive clit.
a single look to him to ask what he is doing earns a single look from him, signifying what he wants next.
you shouldn’t.
you absolutely should not do this.
but no matter how many times you remind yourself how wrong it is in these few short moments, your body speaks for itself and you nod. lucifer’s shoulders visibly relax, as if he was scared you would say no.
you can’t feel guilty about this, not when lucifer wants it as much as you. he strokes his cock, eyes furrowed from the battle waging in his mind. he’s as conflicted as you, but in times like this, he is hopeless in the fight against his lust.
“are you sure you want this?”
“yes,” you gasp. “are you?”
“i wouldn’t have gotten this far if i didn’t.”
you hesitate for a moment, but he assures you with his charming words, whether they speak the truth or otherwise.
“you needn’t worry about the repercussions. this is purely for stress relief.”
you’re sure the sinking feeling in your chest is a bad sign, knowing it hurts that all of this is just for the release of pent up stress. but still, your body is greedy enough to bury that bitter hesitance deep down and replace it with more lust.
“then stop talking and do it,” you wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer so his cock prods your entrance. “don’t take your time with me, lucifer. i’m not a patient woman.”
his softness is gone instantaneously and like a flash of lightening, you are shocked by how quickly he can switch from his relaxed and vulnerable side to his authoritative and commanding façade.
“you ought to show more respect to your boss,” he leans down, close enough for his lips to graze your ear. “you’ve forgotten your manners.”
“i hardly think manners are necessary. with this, at least.”
“hm, well, you see,” he taunts. “i won’t give you anything unless you ask for it nicely. and you’re not a patient woman, so how long are you going to wait for it?”
you scoff, rolling your eyes. you’d gotten caught up in the heat of the moment, hoping lucifer would hop straight into fucking you senseless. but you forgot how much of a control freak he is, and how everything happens his way or it doesn’t happen at all.
you hoped the lenience and generosity he has for you would work in your favour, but apparently not.
“i don’t need to ask again,” he warns. “tell me what you want and say please.”
you bite your lip, glaring at him daringly but a single stern look puts you in your place and speaking the words you both desperately need to hear.
“please, i want you to fuck me.”
he stares you dead in the eye as he utters another order.
“say it again.”
“please, lucifer,” you whine. “fuck me, please!”
in a moment’s turn, he flips you so your feet touch the ground and his large hand on your lower back pushes you into the edge of his desk, while the other lines his cock with your sopping entrance.
he slips in, teasing you and earning a moan as he slowly rocks his hips, entering you further with each roll of his hips.
you push your body against him, and his cock digs further into your pussy. you keep rocking, both in unison until his cock is deep enough for you to scream his name.
“lucifer—ah!”
your squeal is cut short when he ruts into you again, slamming his hips against your ass and groaning from the tight warmth of your pussy enveloping his aching cock.
both of you are so lost in the wonders of each other’s body that the abrupt, high–pitched chiming almost goes unnoticed.
shrill ringing of the telephone on lucifer’s desk threatens to dampen the mood. but lucifer’s cock has only just entered and you’re not far away from the best part of the night. to hell with the phone call, lest it disturb your secret pleasure time with your boss.
“what are you waiting for?” lucifer rubs your hips with a subtle but notable thrust of his own. “aren’t you going to answer it?”
“what—ah?!” you gasp, doing your utmost to stay upright on his desk while he pounds into you. but your elbows have turned feeble from your orgasm, trembling as you try to hold yourself up with them. “i can’t do that!”
“answer it.”
his curt order is enough to make you obey, as is the harsh grip on your ass cheek. you lean over the desk a little further, reaching for the phone. this is a terrible idea but you can’t seem to break free of the spell lucifer has cast on you — you’d obey every last one of his orders.
“h–hello?”
in the process of lucifer figuratively rearranging your guts, he seems to have also turned your brain to mush and you cannot comprehend the words coming from the speaker.
all you can feel is lucifer, and how he hovers lower and lower, leaning down on your body until you’re squished between him and his desk. he grinds his hips into you, leaving chaste kisses along your shoulder blade and when he is flush against your ear, he whispers.
“focus.”
but you’re incapable of doing anything, including focusing on the phone call.
you have a client in one ear, and your boss in the other ear. neither of which can hear the other, but what is certain is that they can both hear you muffling your moans with a hand clasped over your face, and your entire body shakes as lucifer refuses to cease fucking you brainless.
“hello? is anyone there? i can hear you breathing.”
within seconds, you move the phone away from your mouth, ready to hang up but lucifer’s reflexes are quick enough to grab your arm and bring the phone back to where it was moments ago.
“answer him,” lucifer whispers. you shake your head with tight lips, holding your breath as to not make a sound while lucifer holds the phone against your face. and into the ear he has claimed, he orders, “speak. now. or i won’t let you cum.”
you open your mouth, swallowing in air before finally speaking.
“this is mr. morningstar’s office. how can i help?”
“i wish to speak with lucifer himself. this is urgent.”
your mouth hangs open, silent moans causing your body to convulse as lucifer grinds slowly and deeply in your pussy. you’re hanging on by a thin thread, but lucifer brings your attention back from your oncoming orgasm.
“you want to cum, don’t you? be a good girl and do your fucking job.”
lucifer pushes himself up and switches up his pace from slow ruts to harsh and fast thrusts. each of them knock the air out of you as you try to speak.
“i must apologise, sir. you’re calling during his out of office hours so unfortunately i can’t let you speak to him at the moment.”
“why the hell not?!”
“this is his personal—ah!” you stifle a yelp to the best of your ability, praying lucifer would have some mercy and not humiliate you — or allow you to humiliate yourself. “this is his personal time but i can pass on a message.”
the man continues to speak and with shaky hands, you reach for pen and paper, turning your moans from lucifer’s cock dragging in and out of your pussy into hums of acknowledgement in heed of the man’s queries. you only hoped they’re disguised enough to not spark intrigue on the other end of the line, because that would be the end of all the professionalism you held.
you slam the telephone into its holder, ending the call as quickly as possible.
“what the hell was that?” you whine, clenching down on lucifer’s cock as you near the bliss you’ve been longing for. your complaints are disrupted with stutters caused by lucifer’s thrusts. “do you have any idea how stupid that was?”
“you’re the one who answered,” he bites back, landing his hand down harshly on your ass once again. “not me.”
“you told me—ah! to answer!”
“and you could have refused.”
you lower your head, biting back a moan. you could have refused, but the outcome of tonight’s session would be a lot different if you didn’t answer. perhaps, lucifer might have stopped immediately, leaving you on the outskirts of blissful territory.
or alternatively, he may have begun to fuck you harsher, rougher, meaner; punishing you for not obeying his order. but you wouldn’t think of it as a punishment, as long as you get to cum.
“that’s right,” he continues. “you’re so desperate to cum, you don’t care if someone hears you getting fucked like a whore.”
an especially loud groan escapes you at the sound of the new nickname. you quite like the sound of it, but your body more so and lucifer can tell from the quivering walls of your pussy.
“you like that? you like being called a whore?”
“yes!”
“i fucking knew it.”
he thrusts impossibly harder and your body collapses, allowing him full control of your pleasure. and he gifts it to you on a golden platter.
“go on. you’ve been a good whore, so go ahead and cum,” he grunts. “cum for me. cum all over my cock like the desperate, pathetic bitch you are.”
“fuck! ah!” you can’t even warn him of your orgasm as you clench your walls, feeling his cock in greater detail as it rubs you in all the right places. “fuck, luci— feels so good!”
“that’s it, baby,” lucifer hums, emptying his own load in you. “good fucking girl.”
his words are dragged out, mellowed by the pure ecstasy he has found in your pussy. and your pussy, too, feels awestruck from the new sensations of him filling you up, not just with his cock but with his cum, too.
you’re taken over by bliss and warmth, limbs trembling from the sheer shock of it all. never had you imagined how one of your worst days would end with such astoundingly good sex. you ebb and flow with the pleasure, letting your body relax and the feelings to wither away slowly while you catch your breath.
but lucifer doesn’t give the feelings a chance to subdue and picks up the pace. with hands grounded in your hips, he pushes all of his might into one more round. the stickiness from your mixed arousals leaking out of your pussy allow him to fuck you with ease, and not minutes later, your screaming and thrashing with a new, heightened pleasure.
your tip–toes graze the floor, pressing into the ground as hard as you can to stabilise yourself. but lucifer fucks you ruthlessly and when he rips another orgasm from you, your legs fly up and outward and your hips rock against him and the desk in a most embarrassing manner.
your limbs flail and your body convulses and lucifer relishes, knowing he is the reason behind your wild pleasure. he wonders if anyone else could make you like this, to drive you insane with pleasure that you no longer have control over your body, even for the short–lived moment of him fucking you through your orgasm.
perhaps, that is why he keeps going. because he wants this moment to last forever.
having your tight pussy wrapped around him and your wildly beautiful moans filling his ears for eternity doesn’t sound bad at all.
but he, too, has limits and feels himself slow down. his thrusts become sloppy and gentle and his guttural groans are replaced with heavy breaths.
“fuck….” he gasps and he truly can find no other words. “fuck.”
collapsing into his chair, he watches your body twitching as you lay exhausted on his desk with you red ass on display and his cum dripping down your legs.
when you finally regain control over your limbs, you slowly rise, stretching to ease your muscle. but your whines and groans and the sight of your sullied body keep his cock hard for longer than he thought.
“are you alright?” he asks breathlessly. “rest longer if you need to.”
“no,” you state, looking at him over you shoulder before backing up. “we’re not done yet.”
lucifer is surprised. under the assumption that you would be as spent as he is, he does not expect you to find his cock and slip it inside of you again. but that’s exactly what you do.
“oh my god….” you moan, hypersensitive to any and all ministrations against your pussy. but still, you want more, you need more. “please, it’s so good!”
lucifer supposes he should let you continue bouncing on his cock given that he released all of his stress on you. the least he can do is allow you to use him until you’re satisfied. but that doesn’t stop him from grabbing your hips and guiding you up and down. his fingers fit into your flesh like second nature.
his added strength makes it easier for you, and you focus more on finding your next orgasm.
the usually quiet office of morningstar corporation’s boss is now filled will all sorts of obscenities — from your desperate gasps and moans to the squeaking of lucifer’s chair, and the abrupt slaps cutting through the air to the scuffling of paper on his desk when you grab onto it for stability as rapture fills you for the last time, teaching you that the joy and delight you find in melding your bodies together is the most sinful of utopias.
pleasure turns to pain, and pain turns to pleasure as you are overwhelmed with the orgasms you have endured.
lucifer’s hands snake around your waist, pulling you back into him with one hand straying to fondle your breasts. breathing in your scent, he grounds himself in you and you lay limp in his arms as all the glee and elation filling your body slowly slips away.
regaining your stable mind and body, you realise you and your boss have a lot of discussing to do. and what follows can either make or break the relationship you have with him as your boss and you as his secretary. all professional boundaries have been broken, and the flimsy rules you had in place to ensure your situation would not advance to the level it did tonight are left far in hindsight.
there’s not a single directive you left untouched. but knowing you broke all the rules, and that lucifer instigated most of it, is worrying as much as it is electrifying because you know that extra care and attention from lucifer isn’t just for the sex.
he appreciates your abilities outside of the sexual encounters you share.
as you would both understand, your role is merely to serve him and his company. he receives corporate aide from his directors but still, he trusts your intuition. he listens to your gut feeling as if it were his own.
he has a habit of asking your opinion when it comes to high–risk decisions, or urging you to tell him your opinion on a new client he had a bad feeling about. although you’re in his presence for admin only, lucifer ensures you are there for more than that.
that you are there for him and not just your job.
in more ways than one.
and he proved that tonight when he kissed you. the first rule of your arrangement was no feelings and no kissing. but lucifer, a man who lives by rules, had thrown it out the window. it only made you more curious as to what would come from it.
surely, you would stick to the scope of your professionalism. at least, what’s left of it. but his lips against yours, the soft drag of them across your skin, the sweet whispers that meant something entirely different after he kissed you….is it really worth the cost of losing your livelihood?
“we should do this more often,” he breathes into your mouth, enveloping your lips between words. “i’m beginning to despise how rare of an occurrence this is.”
“we do this often enough,” you warn him, rising from your place on his lap.
but he doesn’t let you escape. he grabs your wrist and pulls you back into him. your butt is awkwardly positioned near his softened cock but you rest your shoulder on his chest with your arms tucked between your bodies.
“if you don’t wish to do this again, then just say the word. but for now, let’s stay like this a little while longer,” he speaks softly into your hair. “i had a long day.”
“i did, too.” you hum.
his big arms wrapping around you feels foreign. but still, it feels natural to slide your head onto his shoulder and rest in his embrace. you have been intimate with lucifer in more ways than one, but this….sitting in his lap, bare and vulnerable, and holding him back while he kisses and caresses the skin on your neck and shoulders….it’s a different type of intimate.
a type of intimacy you never imagined he would be capable of.
“i hope i made your day better, even in the slightest.”
“trust me, lucifer,” you smirk. “you turned a really shitty day into a really good one.”
the both of you relish in each other’s soft laughter, but taking notice of the darkened sky has you realising this moment will soon come to an end, and you will need to part ways and pretend none of this ever happened, even the new additions to your extra duties to your ceo.
your heart sinks, knowing you have grown fonder of these encounters, fonder of the man beneath you. and you don’t want it to end despite all the alarm systems in your body telling you otherwise.
you ignore them for now, relishing in the warmth from lucifer while he is still here with you.
with a smug smile, you think to yourself: enjoy it while you can.
“and me?” you ask playfully, nudging him to open his eyes. “did i make your day better?”
you hear the soft inhale he takes, discreetly breathing in the air you give and allowing it to settle his beating heart and erratic nerves. you will never know, but even in your no strings attached relationship with him, you turned him from a purely lustful man into a man capable of love.
“yes,” he chuckles, and he looks at you in a way you’ve never been looked at before. lucifer is so adoring in his gaze. “you always do.”
you smile giddily. to yourself, or to him, you’re not quite sure. perhaps it’s the after–effects of your multiple orgasms that have you grinning and kissing him again. or maybe it’s a new chapter unfolding between you.
either way, the future of your position with him and the company is a lot less daunting when lucifer is close to you like this.
“how’s that for stress relief?”
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