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reiderwriter · 4 months

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I’d love if you could do a very fluffy-smut with Spencer, like you had a tough case and the day after he calls asking you to go to his apartment and you see he has made food & made a fort to watch movies with fairy lights and just everything really romantic & it ending with very slow/soft sex🩵

A/N: I loved writing this one! Spencer is absolutely the type to build a perfectly engineered pillow fort just because you're having a bad day 😭😭 I hope you enjoy it!!

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, soft sex, oral sex (f receiving), slow/ gentle sex, multiple orgasms, implied creampie/ no contraception mentioned :) tee hee

There was something about the cases that took you to the other side of the country that sunk the ache into your bones just that little bit more.

It didn't matter if you were going for a kidnapping or a serial or a spree, you always returned more weary than before. The weeks work that you endured was never as tough as returning home to your empty apartment, to the cold floor and the lonely bed.

This time, your case had a happy ending. You weren't sure how many more of them you were going to be able to live through before the bad endings rendered them null and void. It didn't matter how many people you saved some days because your brain was crowded with the names and faces of the ones you didn't.

The drive home from Quantico was unsurprisingly quiet. Having landed in the dead of night, there were never going to be too many people on the roads to your apartment.

You weren't sure if it was fate, or the fact that you hadn't eaten anything in the last 18 hours that made you pull over to the side of the road to pick something up from the 24 hour drive thru, but in the end you were glad you did.

The second you pulled your car off the road, taking a breather and deciding to stretch your legs a bit before going in to order, your phone screen lit up.

“Spencer,” you answered the phone, “what's up?”

“Y/N, hey, I just got home. Listen, remember last month I was talking to you about that one indie film that I couldn't find anywhere? Well, a friend of mine from college just sent me a file entitled ‘the movie.’”

You weren't sure if it was Spencer’s enthusiasm or just the way you were always ready to drop anything to do something with him that had you giggling and nodding along. You didn't remember the discussion, let alone the movie he meant, but you liked hearing him talk about the things he was passionate about.

“So I was thinking, we're both probably not going to get much sleep anyway since we clocked out only 23 minutes ago - movie night?”

“You couldn't have called at a better time, Spencer. I'm grabbing food, text me your order and I'll see you in 15.”

-X-

The drive to Spencer’s apartment was clear, but the hum in the air was lighter than the silence of before. By the time you pulled onto his street, your mood had already brightened significantly.

You trudged up to his apartment softly so as not to cause any complaints and sent him a text to let him know you were waiting outside.

You knew instantly that he'd received and read it - the garbled sound of the large man tripping over his feet in his attempt to rush to the door were the same every time you arrived. Stubbing his toe on some pile of books or the other was practically ritual.

“Hi,” he whispered, opening the door just a crack and giving you a bright smile.

“Hi,” you smiled back. “I bought food.”

“Perfect. That's perfect. You're… come on in. It's cold, right?” He guided you into the small entryway in his apartment and let you drop your keys with his as if they were supposed to be tangled together.

“I have a little surprise.” He said, suddenly sounding bashful as he grabbed for your hand in the dark - you hadn't realised as he'd led you in but there were no lights on in the small apartment on at all, as far as you could tell.

“What? Spencer-”

“You'll like it, I promise, you just have to trust me.” You relaxed as he wrapped an arm around your waist and tugged you with him into his living space. His hand was warm as it settled against the small on your back, and his chest was surprisingly broad and firm as you brought up your hands to steady yourself against him.

“Okay, now close your eyes.”

“The apartment is pitch black. Why am I closing my eyes?” You giggled a little, surprised that your whole body felt so light and calm now, when it had felt so terrible only half an hour before.

“Trust me,” he said, and you did. Truth be told, your eyes were already shut before the words had even left his mouth.

“Okay, you can open them now.”

He must have flipped a light switch the second you opened your eyes because your vision was blurred by the dazzling light when you did.

Blinking through the adjustment, you started making out shapes and couldn't stop the small tears that pricked the corners of your eyes.

He hadn't just invited you around for a movie night - he'd built a fort. Held up by a few chairs and piles of books, he'd managed to prop up at least three layers of blanket to surround the most comfortable looking floor you'd ever seen.

You didn't even know he owned this many pillows, but when he tugged your hand down as he began to move into the fort, you didn't need to care.

Not with his fingers gently laced with yours and the fairy lights he'd surrounded everything with, giving his skin a golden glow. You didn't need any explanation. You just needed him to hold you.

“Spencer this is beautiful,” you whispered, sound dampened by the lump in your throat that you tried to swallow, to no relief. “This must've taken so much time. How did you even-”

“PhD in Engineering. I don't get much use out of it these days, but it certainly comes in handy.”

You couldn't help the laugh that burst from you, the tears finally flowing as tears of joy.

“Spencer, what is all this for?”

“It's just because. You looked like you had a hard day, and I enjoy spending time with you.”

They weren't the most romantic words in the world. They probably didn't come close to some quotes he could recite as easily as breathing. But they hit you hard and fast.

You knew you were in love with Spencer Reid long before this moment, but there was no holding back the flood after hearing the sincerity in his voice.

You slowly stretched your neck up and pressed your lips against his. It was fleeting, a small moment that if this didn't pan out, you could brush off as a friendly show of appreciation.

You pulled away to gauge his reaction, but you didn't get to. His hand on your neck had pulled you back to him for another slow, but deep kiss, and it was as if your entire body was on fire in those sheets.

You weren't sure how long you spent breathing each other in, exploring each others lips softly. You just knew you were growing desperate for more. You didn't notice that you'd climbed into his lap until your eagerness knocked him onto his back, forcing you apart.

Your chest lay atop his as you both gasped for air, legs tangled, eyes locked as both of you feared talking first.

After almost too long without anything said or done, Spencer chose silence again, flipping your positions so you were the one on your back on the pillows as he hovered over you, lips meeting yours again.

This time, you made the conscious decision to wrap your legs up around his waist, hand tangling in his hair as you smiled and giggled against his kisses, so obliviously happy to be there with him.

“I love you,” you whispered between kisses, not even hesitating for a second to contemplate whether he felt the same.

“I love you more,” he said as if it were a competition where you both won in the end.

You became more talkative after that, responding to every touch, every kiss with praise and a confession, a moan as his fingers pushed under your shirt, a shaky breath as they unbuttoned your pants.

“Fuck, Spencer, please touch me more,” you begged as his hand toyed with your nipple, having discarded your shirt and bra quickly after receiving permission to do so.

“I will. I want to know all of you,” his voice was strong even in a whisper, as he dropped his head to your other nipple to begin suckling and teasing you.

You always thought his hair would be soft, had been tempted on multiple occasions to tuck a strand behind his ear, or just run a hand through it, and now you held it firm, pushing him further into your chest as you arched into his mouth.

“I want to feel m-more of you, Spencer.”

He raised his gaze to you as he let go of your nipple with a pop and quietly complied with your will. Trailing his head lower, he kissed across the expanse of your stomach, biting and sucking here and there to leave a path of markings in his wake before arriving right where he wanted to be.

He made quick work of your pants and panties both, surprised that a man who never failed to bump into things in his own living space could be so graceful when it came to divesting you of your clothing.

You couldn't ponder for too long as he dived between your legs, spreading you open like a book he needed to read and memorise. His to guess hit your clit quickly, and a few twitches and moans here and there showed him how you liked it, where you needed him and his tongue.

You again got to grasp his hair pulling him further into your wet cunt as you chased your high, needing so desperately to ride out an orgasm against his face.

When his two fingers stretched you open, you practically drowned him, thighs clamping shut as your brain emptied itself of stress.

You calmed down and watched him come up for air, fingers still slowly and gently pumping inside of you, reminding you that this wasn't over.

“You taste sweet.”

“I know how much you like sweet things.” Your juices glistened on his lips and chin, a few drops running down his neck as you stared at him with pure desperation in your eyes.

“Spencer, please, fuck-” his fingers picked up speed every time you tried again.

“Spencer, fuck me, please just fuc-”

“As you wish, Y/N.”

He didn't bother removing his own clothing, though you desperately wanted to see his entire length and explore him just as he had with you.

But after cumming on his face already, you decided you'd let him go with whatever he wanted.

Shifting up behind you as you laid there, he gently rolled your body onto its side as he pulled your back towards him, giving him better access to your cunt as you arched into him again.

He sank in slowly, almost as if he was scared to break you, but didn't stop until he was almost fully inside of you, practically sheathed.

He adjusted his hold on you, wrapping both arms around your waist and pulling your back flush against his chest as he pressed open-mouthed kisses against your neck.

With deep, slow strokes, he made love to you. You weren't sure if it was the fairy lights, or if it was just that good, but you saw stars, saw them burnt into your eyes, watched them every time the pleasure felt too good and your eyes rolled back into your head.

The second orgasm came slower than the first, but it was just as hot.

“Y/N, look at me - you're so beautiful, I want to watch you cum.”

“Spencer, love- I love you, I love you, fuck, oh my god, I love you so much.” You reached for his lips but he pressed his forehead against yours as he whispered in your ear a final time: “cum for me now.”

Your body wasn't one for taking your queues, but it responded to him as if he'd been the missing part you'd missed this entire time.

Your cunt tightened around him, milking his cock as he moaned and released seconds after you did.

You lay tangled in those blankets and pillows for hours after, and you weren't afraid or lonely anymore.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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hindulivesmatter · 3 months

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Why Gandhi is a piece of shit and you should hate him.

Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi has been established in our history as a "Mahatma" which means "great soul"

This man is anything but that.

He is EVERYWHERE. He's on our currency, he's revered as a hero who saved India, and we have a mandatory holiday on October 2nd in honor of him.

If you didn't know, now you're going to get to know why he was a horrible human being. Let's begin.

This man managed to fool people Martin Luther King and Nelson Mandela (among many others) into thinking he was a good person.

Here is some of the shit he's done:

In 1903, when Gandhi was in South Africa, he wrote that white people there should be "the predominating race." He also said black people "are troublesome, very dirty, and live like animals."

Refused to have sex with his wife for the last 38 years of their marriage. He felt that in order to test his commitment to celibacy, he would have beautiful young women (including his own great niece) lie next to him naked through the night. His wife, whom he described as looking like a "meek cow" was no longer desirable enough to be a solid test.

Believed that Indian women who were raped lost their value as a human.

During Gandhi's time as a dissident in South Africa, he discovered a male youth had been harassing two of his female followers. Gandhi responded by personally cutting the girls' hair off, to ensure the "sinner's eye" was "sterilised". Gandhi boasted of the incident in his writings, pushing the message to all Indians that women should carry responsibility for sexual attacks upon them.

He argued that fathers could be justified in killing daughters who had been sexually assaulted for the sake of family and community honour.

Gandhi also waged a war against contraceptives, labelling Indian women who used them as whores.

He believed menstruation was a "manifestation of the distortion of a woman's soul by her sexuality".

On 6th April 1947, he gave a speech where he said, “ If the Muslims are out there slicing through Hindu masses to wipe out the Hindu race, the Hindus should say nothing and peacefully accept death”.

He hated the great Hindu rulers, especially Shivaji Maharaj. To please the Muslims, he banned the book named ShivBhaavani which correctly depicted Islam’s intolerance and fierce fundamentalism spread by it.

Refused his wife life-saving medication (for religious reasons), but those religious reasons all of a sudden no longer applied to him when he was in a similar position.

Started a fast unto death when Ambedkar asked for separate electorates for Dalits.

Gandhi left his ailing father on his deathbed, to sleep with his wife. The child born out of this copulation died in infancy. According to Gandhi, the death of this infant was the result of this evil karma.

Gandhi, even when he claimed to be the angel of non-violence, made no efforts to prevent the British from deploying Indian troops at various locations during World War II.

Kashmir was invaded by Pakistan in 1947, the brutal Pakistani army committed heinous crimes against Kashmiri Pandits including mass rape and mass killings consequently many Pandits were forced to flee to Delhi and other places. In one incident Pandits took refuge in an abandoned mosque in Delhi. Infuriated, Gandhi threatened to fast to death if the Pandits didn't leave. The Pandits were slaughtered in a communal riot as soon as they abandoned the mosques.

Criticized the Jews for defending themselves against the Holocaust because he insisted that they should have committed public mass suicide in order to "shame" the Germans instead of fighting back. His exact words were, "But the Jews should have offered themselves to the butcher's knife. They should have thrown themselves into the sea from the cliffs. As it is, they succumbed anyway in their millions."

And this is all from a simple Internet search compiled here. I wonder what else is hiding if I do a deep dive.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

#hinduphobia #hindublr #desiblr #antisemitism #history #india #gandhi #can you guys tell i hate him #indian history #british empire #tw rape #tw assault

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kevin-day-is-bi · 22 days

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Saw a Star Trek thing that had Kirk saying "I don't believe in a no-win scenario" and it made me remember how absolutely soft this boy makes me. How he's the only person to beat the Kobayashi Maru because he was so determined to save lives that he rewrote the game. He argues for women to have access to contraception and abortions. He cheats on the Pon'Farr because he knows Spock has to win but he knows it'll kill Spock if he actually wins. There's so much more but I'm tired and too soft to remember so feel free to reblog with more Soft™ things Kirk has done

#james kirk #james t kirk #star trek

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sebfreak · 1 month

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Tbh I´m a little bit sad that they didn´t add this tiny little scene into the anime while Maomao was talking with Jinshi and explaining to him how she sees her bilogical father. Because this scene was for me very interesting. Maomao as a child or more like from her point of view saw things differently and it was indeed traumatizing when Lakan came to her and said to her she should call him dad. (also i just wanted to see how grandma was hitting him sorry not sorry XD but come on this was funny in the manga okay? but maybe they didn´t add because in the episode before that grandma hit him. but hmm... if you read the manga you´ll know what i mean.) But okay, I think without it they managed to give all people the answer to their question why she dislikes her biological father. And although Gaoshun said that "no father wants to be disliked", I think it´s only up to Maomao whether she accepts him or not. The same goes for her mother too. Oh I really liked btw how she pointed out that her mother could have taken contraceptives but she didn´t chose to and so the strategist was tricked in the end. "Women are scary" yeah I mean... Maomao knows indeed a lot and did see a lot of characters in the red light district so she has every right to say it like that. But yeah getting kids can either save the woman or punish her. I know it sounds very rough if i say it like that, but this is the life they have.

Her dancing was indeed very beautiful she kept her promise although the person couldn´t see it. But at least Jinshi saw it. ahaha loved their interaction so much and him freaking out because of her wound is the best. XD Jinshi has the best faces ngl.

XDDD Ahahaha the scene was indeed very misleading ... right? RIGHT???? I have to be honest, even I was holding my breath but nonononono she just wants to have the ox bezoar. :D (at the moment *cough* but that´s another story). Also can we please highlight the fact that Jinshi just jumped down the wall AND WITH MAOMAO??? Boy he has legs out of steel, because the wall is very high. Oo

Yeah you can say the story had happy endings and everything went pretty well but it is indeed only the beginning of Maomaos story and I´m so glad that they announced season 2. <3

And how would I rate it? I would give it a 10/10 because i never felt bored nor was there something I really didn´t like. Yeah I´m critical when it comes to Lakan and Mamomaos mother and i will continue with it and a few other characters, but that didn´t change my rating for the anime. It´s a great story and I´m happy that they made 20+ episodes. I will recommend this story to everyone who likes these type of stories and I really like how this story shows in an authentical way how the life in a palace was or how courtesans lived their life. It´s not romanticized and beside that you can learn a lot about medicine because Maomaos passion for it can and will infect you. She is btw for me one of the best female characters out there. I like her personality and how she solves things. I like how she is true to her opinion and isn´t afraid to say it or share her ideas with others. For me she is a very strong character.

Oh and Jinshi is also a great character and on my husbando list. :D

#kusuriya no hitorigoto #the apothecary diaries #anime #jinshi #maomao #10/10 would recommend

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love-toxin · 1 year

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I'm so in love with the way you write!! Especially bully!Eddie, he makes me feel all gooey inside<3 can't wait to see what you write next, pretty 🥰✨

hehehe!!! take this!!! (yes i am using this as an opportunity to be self-indulgent AND festive even tho i finished this a little late LOL <3)

(cws: bully!dad!eddie, f!mom!angelface, christmas festivities, gift-giving, teasing, mentions of postpartum healing and a past of poverty living, set 5 years post-babytrapping, fluff.)

If you thought Eddie wasn't gonna bother getting gifts for your children before he became a father, you would be beyond wrong. He's always been mean, always been rough, but ever since that first Christmas you spent together as a family, he's been the biggest softie you've ever seen for his babies.

Your first one, Elliott, is getting bigger by the day--he's five and still as much of an angel as the day he was born, dark curls exploding all over his head and freckles dusting his nose. Lorien, who just turned four, is a clumsy little guy with his father's eyes and your soft, demure smile. And Trinity is still a bit too small to show much personality yet, but she's giggly and a good sleeper and quite happy for a two-month-old in a chaotic house full of boys. They all get spoiled, but not rotten, lucky for you. Eddie can at least be strict at times and you don't fold easily to those glimmery little eyes when the boys are begging for something they want. But that definitely changes at Christmas, when your husband plays the role of Santa so well you might as well slap a fake beard on his chin and give him a suit to go with his sack of goodies.

However, that same gesture hasn't exactly extended to you. It's not one-sided--you don't really get him much, either--but Eddie's gifts to you in the last five years have been pretty scarce. Your birthday is always a different story and so is his, but with having at least one child each year and that number growing over time, as well as struggling to pay bills and keep the roof over your heads on a single income, presents haven't ever really been a spectacle between you two. Usually it's some chocolate if he can afford it, or simply a kiss and the promise of a date during those couple years where you could barely avoid food, those awful times when you literally scrounged for whatever pennies you could save just to get your children something to open on Christmas morning. All the while watching and feeling a sense of relief at their excitement, all while yours and Eddie's stomachs rumbled with hunger but your boys sat full and satisfied.

But those days of struggling are over, at least for the foreseeable future. This year Eddie's taken over a considerable chunk of the garage as a partner and started doing detail work on the side, and with the success of that as well as the band picking up more and more gigs, you've watched those fears of not being able to provide for your children slowly vanish in your rearview. You even have a job yourself, part-time at the general store where you can chat away with Joyce and have a little time and money to yourself. This is the first year you're actually spending the holidays in a house instead of the trailer, one that you scouted out and Eddie bought, and with all those changes under your belts, you've managed to carve out quite the life for yourself and your little family.

And Eddie's changing, too. You'll never be proud of what you did, you're sure you'll never not feel a little sick at the memory of sabotaging his contraceptives all those years ago. But you've grown and so has Eddie--he's still gruff, and can be a little prickly around the edges when he's in a mood, but your opinion of him definitely changed when you watched him become a parent. And not in the literal sense, just at Elliott's birth. You've watched him become gentle and sweet and learn how to manage himself, you've seen him apply those behaviors to you and you've even gotten some good moments out of him--an apology, for one, and a promise as well.

"I'm never gonna be perfect, I know. But I'll...I'll be the kinda guy a girl like you deserves. I'll be good to you. And....fuck, I mean, I'll try and make it up to you for all that stupid shit. I'll just....I'll find a way, okay? I'll find a way."

That way had been a ring and another baby, the latter of the two being pure coincidence, but he really is making an effort. That much is obvious in the littlest things, like how he waved you off to bed and told you he'd take care of the baby tonight, doing all the feeding and burping and changing and soothing that would usually be shared between the two of you. His only excuse had been that it was Christmas Eve, and he expected a damn good breakfast in the morning for all that last-minute grocery shopping he'd had to do for you the day before. But even as he served you all that indignation and sass, he had cradled your baby girl in his arms as he gave you a kiss, and quietly smiled down at her as he cooed a little lullaby and you snuggled up in your bed to sleep.

"Mommy! It's Christmas, mommy! Wake up!"

When you're finally shaken awake by your boys at eight am sharp, you almost aren't sure where you are, or what day it is--you've been so exhausted taking care of your newborn that you've forgotten what a good night's sleep is. They hop around cheering and grabbing at you to get you up, only calming down enough to lean in for kisses when you bid them a good morning. When you're eventually dragged out of bed by those two excitable little gremlins and stumble half-awake through the hallway, you nearly bump right into your husband as he's carrying your daughter back to her bassinette.

"Mmh....Eds, did you sleep?"

"A little." Somehow, he's grinning, despite it being so early and him sporting bags under his tired eyes. You hadn't been woken up once that you can remember, not even to breastfeed, which would mean that Eddie had been up with Trin for pretty much the whole night in the nursery. Not unusual, but....well, sometimes you forget he can be pretty thoughtful when he feels like it. With a kiss placed on your daughter's head, and another sleepily pressed to Eddie's lips, you rub your eyes and let your sons take each hand to pull you down the steps to go see what Santa left you all. And, as per usual, only half-listening to their father's nagging to slow it down, so you don't go flying!

Fortunately, by the time you're down the stairs and Eddie's on your heels, you've blinked away snough of the sleep that you can stretch and yawn and shake off the tiredness that had kept you so soft and warm in bed. You let the boys take the lead as they hurry into the living room, and when you turn the corner to join them, you're met with quite the unexpected surprise. One that leaves you so pleasantly shocked that even Eddie can't smother his low, soft laughter as he comes up behind you for a kiss to your ear.

Waiting for your boys at the base of the tree are the gifts you and Eddie had wrapped and placed there, making sure to do so later in the night to give your boys a proper taste of that innocent belief in Santa Claus. But Eddie's ploy of staying up with the baby evidently wasn't all for the reasons he had supposed--you can see now that the stockings you had put up over the back of the couch, purely just for decoration, have been stuffed full to bursting with sweets and little toys and trinkets. You've got three of them, one for each child with their names stitched in by Eddie's careful hands, but there's another one that wasn't there last night. Smaller, cuter, but still with a few goodies inside that look like your favourite chocolates peeking out the top and some fuzzy socks. When you turn to look at him, he doesn't even pretend he wasn't looking, although he swerves around you and does pretend to be occupied with soothing your still-sleeping baby.

"Looks like Santa got a lot of work done, huh, boys?" You call out to them while not breaking your locked stare with your husband, arms crossing over your chest as you exchange a few looks that don't feel as innocent as they once were. Eddie winks in that confident way that stirs a heat up in your belly, before he turns and moves to lay your daughter down in the little handmade cradle by the wall that he's left out since the boys were small enough to sleep in it.

"Uh huh! Mama, look! Santa gave you presents!" Lorien calls right back to you, plopped down right next to his brother as they wait on the rug by the tree, practically vibrating with excitement. You quirk an eyebrow, but Eddie hustles over and distracts them by starting up the train of gift-unwrapping, handing each of them their first present with a warm sort of smile that doesn't come around all that often. With their interests piqued and their excited squeals coming out as they tear through the colourful paper, you pull the crib over a few feet to include your little girl in the festivities and take a seat on the couch. You're definitely still on the mend from Trinity's birth, and you don't mind rocking the little wooden cradle as you watch your children laugh and thank mommy, daddy, and Santa for their new toys.

They're such sweet kids, and you don't feel like you're that amazing of a person, so it's really quite the phenomenon that they've turned out to be such respectful and kind little boys. Elliott is so gentle in helping his little brother open the harder to unwrap presents, and they both hold each side of the gifts they got for you and for Eddie as they place them in your laps, giggling and squirming when they get a hail of kisses on their faces as thanks for the little drawings and handmade necklaces. But after most of the pile has diminished, and your sons are thoroughly wiped out from the excitement and looking forward to breakfast, Eddie tilts his head and gestures towards the kitchen.

"Go get a snack, and watch your cartoons in the den until breakfast. Help your brother open his, El."

"Okay, daddy!" With one of their new toys in hand and one last tight, gripping hug on each side for their beloved father, Elliott grabs Lorien's little hand and leads him towards the kitchen, both sets of adult ears tuning in to hear the sounds of them bustling around before they get to the right cupboard, and hustle into the playroom in a fit of giggles to catch their favourite cartoons. Then, and only then, does Eddie drag out those presents that had been hiding around the back of the tree, and drops them carefully in front of you until there's at least six or seven boxes by your feet. It isn't until you pick one up and read the tag on it that you realize it's addressed to you, and with a nervous bite to your lip you look back at your husband without much to say. Is it a prank? He encourages you to open them, and when you pull one of those mid-sized boxes towards you and gingerly lift the top off, you blink away the surprise of seeing a few nice, soft sweaters lying inside. All three are somewhat similar to cashmere if not the real thing, they're in your size, they're in colours you like....but he brushes off your awed thank-yous and just puts another gift in your lap, waiting anxiously for you to open it and find the hair clips and little makeup set inside that you'd been wanting.

"Eddie....really, you didn't have to get me anything. You didn't have to get me this much."

"Oh, shut your mouth, you little goody-goody. Take the damn gifts." He shakes off your gratitude like a wet dog, and shoves the next present into your hands before you can even fawn over the one you've already got. Yet, despite coming off as aggressive as he can be, he's got that smug smirk crawling its way across his lips whenever you seem shocked or excited at what he had bought you. But when the hail of presents is done with, and Christmas morning has officially wrapped up, you feel a sense of guilt as you thumb through the books and the tapes he had got you for the new cassette player you have. While you've definitely gone without any gift exchanging in other years, you did get him some new work gloves and a pic case with the Metallica logo on it this time, but it doesn't seem like it's enough. And he can tell by the way you meekly apologize for your pathetic gift-giving, although he doesn't scoff or poke fun at you like he usually would. He just....looks down at his hands, and fiddles with the string on his plaid sleep pants before he answers you.

"You gave me three kids, and a life, and....and a reason to live. You didn't need to get me anything, and you shouldn't have, cause...." He trails off, and you sit there slack-jawed in awe of what you're hearing, wondering if that's really what you're hearing, because it's so rare for Eddie to be touchy-feely when he's also being lucid about his own behavior. You know he knows how he acts is cruel at times, which is why he's really toned down since you first got pregnant and when you had the boys and Trinity. I'm not gonna be like my father. That's what he had said, and he's kept his word since then. Even so, he slips up at times, but you never would've thought that even with all the progress he's made, he'd do something like this completely out of the blue. Eddie smiles at some thought he's got in his head, and reaches over to clasp his warm, rough hand over yours, and you turn your wrist so you can hold it back and lace your fingers together as your palms touch. "Sometimes, I only got up in the mornings because I knew I'd get to see you. I'd get to bully that dumb smile off your face and make you cry, and I'd feel something."

Maybe it's something in the air, but you feel the courage well up inside you to bring your entwined hands up to your face, and kiss each one of his knuckles so tenderly. Usually that would serve as an oportunity for Eddie to flick your nose or jab at you for being a cheesy, mushy crybaby, but shockingly again he says nothing and just....smiles again. It feels normal. Maybe he's been doing it more recently, and you just haven't noticed.

"Now I got people that depend on me, I....I got people who care whether I live or die. I can work hard day after day, and know that the ones I love will get something out of it. I'm someone's fucking dad. That's crazy." Just as the words come out of his mouth, you hear the squeals and laughter of your boys in the other room, along with the soft gurgling of your precious little girl as she starts waking up. He really isn't wrong, he works incredibly hard to provide and even when he grumbles and complains as he pulls himself out of bed to cover someone's no-show shift, he still comes home with a tired smile to welcome his boys into a hug and waltzes in to kiss you hello. He teases you to no end but he still holds you when you're in pain, he takes your complaints and worries so seriously and never misses a chance to bring you to the clinic or pick up your medicines if that's what you need. And even after twelve, thirteen, or fourteen hour shifts where everything's gone wrong and he just wants to pass out for the whole evening, you still stir awake to get a bleary-eyed look at his bare back as he stands over Trinity's bassinette, soothing and bottle-feeding her late into the night so you won't have to get up.

"You're an amazing father, Eddie." You lean into him, a kiss pressed to his jaw as you hold his hand so closely to your chest, and even with your head resting on his shoulder and his breath hitching when yours puffs against his skin, he still rumbles out a soft bit of mockery to fill the empty space between.

"Shut up. Fucking softie.....I love you."

"I love you too." You kiss his chin this time, and he takes the hint to tilt his head down and capture your lips when you go in for another. He's chapped and warm, he smells of milk and a bit of menthol along with his cologne, and it's the strangest combination but it so encompasses Eddie as he is now. He's the kind of father that would get his children McDonald's and watch them eat with a smile as his stomach rumbled, and he's the kind of husband that would agree to share your meal just to take the most unintrusive bite of your burger and tell you he's full. And he's the type of man that, if you ever fell back on those hard times again, would do it all over and more if it meant making sure that his wife and children were taken care of. And still he asks for nothing, but you know by the way he had stared down at the drawings and that pic case and traced the insignia that he'll treasure those moments forever--he'll always know that he's loved, and that his sacrifices will always mean something to your family, especially when your kids grow up and find those same values within themselves. Hopefully, with your influence included, without any of those feelings of abandonment or turmoil that Eddie's still working at undoing with you as you both grow older.

As you sit there together, cuddling and holding one another with plentiful thumps of your hearts, you squeeze his arm so tight and let him feel how much love tightens around it in a hug. He looks so peaceful, and you just have to take the chance to teasingly throw his favourite words right back at him as he looks so solemn and lost in thought. "You gonna cry, you little baby?"

"Fuck you," He spits back immediately with a grin, turning to look down on you and following it up with an especially passionate kiss. If it weren't for your kids being in the other room, and for Trinity starting to stir in the crib as she yawns, it probably wouldn't have stopped there. But for now it does, and Eddie helps you to your feet as you hug him close one last time before moving to welcome your little girl into your arms, and see what she's feeling like so you can hopefully omit some oncoming discomfort. Clingy as ever, Eddie snakes his arms around you from behind one last time as you hold her, kissing your cheek over your shoulder and gently bopping Trin's little Munson nose before he whispers his plans for breakfast in your ear, and slips away to duck into the kitchen.

"Boys! Breakfast in ten! Bacon, yes or no?"

"Yes!" The two of them shout back to their father from the playroom, and you chuckle to yourself as he pretends to mishear them just to elicit a playful reaction, as they frantically correct their daddy while you spend a little time tending to your newborn. Thankfully she doesn't seem too hungry yet, just a little restless, so you lay her back down in the crib and make a mental note to remind Eddie to bring the whole thing over to the table so you can all eat as a family. For now, though, you find yourself meandering back through the archway to find your husband at the stove, several pans already laid out and a carton of eggs open as he's in the midst of cracking a few and humming. You recognize the tune, One Night in the City, and you find yourself joining in with a softer voice as you come up from behind, and wrap your arms around him to lovingly rub his belly the way he likes. It's kinda sweet how surprised he always is to find that you've remembered things like that about him, and as always, he has to brush it off with a few words so he doesn't have to acknowledge how special it makes him feel.

"You love me, huh? That's embarrassing." Even so, he grazes the hand you've got on his stomach with his own, smiling silently to himself as he cracks another egg into the pan with a sssh as the whites hit the hot steel.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #bully!eddie munson #eddie's angelface #st 4 #stranger things #ellie writes #willowsgrl #anons

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allwaswell16 · 8 months

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All the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in August 2023. You can listen to my podcast to hear me talk about each of these fics as well as an overview of what was posted on ao3 including the fics on this month’s fic roundup which you can find here! Please let the writers know if you liked the fics by leaving kudos and comments! Happy reading!

Fanfictional Podcast #53 | ko-fi | fic recs

—Louis/Harry—

🌴 De amore ex tempore by @persephoneflouwers

(M, 101k, historical) the Middle Ages AU where Harry is a philosopher, whose thoughts happen five centuries too soon and Louis is a painter, whose art happens five centuries too late. & Or: the Time Travel AU where alternate versions of themselves live simultaneously in different realities and their paths collide every time, until somehow, they converge into one.

🌴 Gemma's Dad (Could Use A Guy Like Me) by @lululawrence

(NR, 82k, age difference) Louis wasn't planning on getting home and learning that Gemma's dad had gotten the house in the divorce and was dealing with things by focusing on work, the house, and his newly planted garden. It becomes obvious early on that Harry is a bit lost and Gemma is worried about him. To help both of them, Louis is more than happy to help Harry find himself again.

🌴 We Don't Need No Piece of Paper (From the City Clerk) by @2tiedships2

(M, 26k, a/b/o) In a matter of months, he would be bonded to an alpha his dad had chosen for him. Someone that Harry knew nothing about. Not even his name.

🌴 you give me feelings that i adore by @alwaysxlarrie

(T, 7k, a/b/o) 5 times Louis scents Harry's things and the 1 time Harry returns the gesture.

🌴 A Social Construct by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf

(E, 7k, established relationship) Five times Harry and Louis try to lose their virginity and one time they finally do. Part 4 of Swallow My Words

🌴 Rode Hard and Put Away Wet by @kingsofeverything

(E, 6k, Texas) Louis heard the same rumours in London, New York, and L.A., and he put them all to rest, but in Texas? Series Part 7 of Tiny Penis Fics

🌴 Trying to Find the Words (To Say For Ages) by @insightfulinsomniac

(E, 6k, uni au) As best friends and roommates, it’s really not a big deal when their on-campus housing provides Harry and Louis with an unusual, intimate bathroom arrangement.

🌴 Come All Ye by @justanothershadeofblue

(E, 6k, historical) It's the summer of 1971, and Louis just wants to get out of town for a minute or a day. When his buddy Zayn says they should head down south and check out this radical new music festival, Louis is only too happy to agree.

🌴 Every Bit of Mine by skipper / @skipperxao3

(M, 3k, dark) Harry is an enigma. Louis still loves him.

🌴 every night with us (is like a dream) by moon_rose25 / @darkinfinity

(T, 2k, famous/not famous) A look into the life of a professional football player dating a physical therapist.

🌴 Everything Is Batter With You by red_panda28 / @red-pandaaa

(T, 2k, established relationship) Harry comes across a fun baking TikTok and convinces Louis to do it

🌴 No (Birth) Control by @haztobegood

(E, 2k, a/b/o) An unfortunate situation left Harry without contraceptives a day before his heat.

🌴 in my head we can love forever by @beardyboyzx

(E, 1k, girl direction) Harry might be a bit in love with her roommate.

🌴 Nights Like These, We'll Remember by @fallingdefenceless

(T, 1k, meet cute) Louis and Harry meet at a summer music festival and sparks fly.

—Rare Pairs—

🌴 The Light Out In The Madness (Hold Tight) by @lalalaartje

(E, 46k, Niall/Louis) When Louis ends up with Niall as a roommate after a messy break up with Harry, he considers it truly life saving. They become fast friends and while Louis is sceptical about Niall's idea to start fake dating to take revenge on Harry, it can't be that bad, can it?

🌴 Ask Him by LinksLipsSinkShips / @fxckingprincesspark

(T, 2k, Niall/Lewis Capaldi) When Lewis Capaldi gets pressed for information on who he's dating, he admits it... he's been seeing Niall Horan. The only problem? He jokes so much that no one believes him.

#28th appreciation #ficrec #1dficvillage #trackinghappily #trackinghome #tracksintheam #hltracks #1dsource

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gatheringbones · 6 months

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[“I can say as an adult who’s since spent the bulk of my career reporting on sexual and reproductive health, gender, violence, and identity that the course of my life might have been different if my ninth grade health class had taught us about more than just a house-of-horrors catalog of the different kinds of STIs. Nothing we learned even vaguely challenged the reality that I and all teenage girls had been socialized to attach our self-worth to pleasing others, to make male figures in our lives happy no matter the cost to us, and to regard our own happiness, certainly our own pleasure, as an afterthought. Hyperfocused demand for better, accurate, and wide-ranging sex ed programs in public schools is, inevitably, an oversimplified solution that ignores how not all sex ed is good or even accurate. Rather, bad sex ed and puritanical policing are passed between generations—and who is going to intervene to teach sex ed teachers to teach better sex ed?

The consequences of bad sex ed impact the trajectory of a young person’s life. Shortly after being forced into a sexual encounter at sixteen that I would come to understand in my adult life as a sexual assault, I continued to partake in—on my end—deeply unenthusiastic sexual relationships. As if the discomforts and general awfulness of bad sex weren’t punitive enough, eventually, inevitably, the situation spiraled out of my control. I can still vividly remember being belittled by drugstore clerks on multiple occasions, first when I pooled together savings from my after-school job to buy emergency contraception locked away behind counters, and later when I purchased a pregnancy test. A doctor berated me after I disclosed that I had been having unprotected sex, asking if I were purposefully trying to become pregnant and “throw my life away,” and prompting me to conceal pretty important truths from medical professionals for years out of fear of being similarly shamed.”]

kylie cheung, from survivor injustice: state-sanctioned abuse, domestic violence, and the fight for bodily autonomy, 2023

#kylie cheung #cw abuse #cw rape #cw assault #currently reading

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sadhours · 1 year

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Wicked Sensation

part sixteen // billy hargrove x f!reader

a/n: thanks for reading!!!!!! ❤️

word count: 6.5k

warnings: 18+ minors dni, pregnancy, smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v

taglist: @blue-eyed-lion @bbyhargrove @sweet-villain @actuallyspencerreid @trapistani @sierrahhh @likeanimagepassingby2

Reality sets in as the plane touches down in Indiana, Billy’s heart aches as he stares out the window at miles of trees surrounding the small airport. The familiar tenseness of being in the same state as is father settles in his gut and he dreads going back to that home. He’s sure it’ll be like stepping into a war zone. He turns to you and asks, “Do you think your dad and Mary would mind me crashing at your place tonight?”

You shake your head, “Of course not.”

Billy figures after you two deliver the news of the pregnancy, there’d be no reason for the stupid open door rule. However, he worries the two of them might kill him, forbid you from seeing him again.

The car ride to your shared neighborhood is heavy to Billy, though your dad is chipper and asking about the trip, excitedly. He has no clue Billy’s knocked up his daughter. So, Billy tries to hide the forlorn sadness of being back in Hawkins. He squeezes your hand in the backseat when he sees Mary’s eyes close in on him from the rearview mirror. When they pull up to your house, Billy sees his Camaro parked in your driveway and he looks at it, puzzled.

“Your dad told me I might as well move it there,” Dale explains, “I might have taken her out for a few drives. Hope you don’t mind.”

Billy kind of does, but he shrugs, “I’m sure she needed it.”

As you stand outside the car, grabbing out the luggage, Billy repeatedly glances to his house and Neil’s truck in the driveway. You speak up then, “Uh, dad… Mary, can Billy stay the night tonight?”

Mary looks to Billy, noting his obvious fear and then to your dad, “Sure. That will be fine, right sweetie?”

“Yeah, whenever you need to, Billy,” your dad says and starts bringing the luggage inside. Billy stands outside, still, waiting for Neil to come stomping over and screaming before dragging him inside and beating him with a belt. It doesn’t happen.

You wrap your fingers around his wrist and pull him inside the house with you. Once you both get the luggage upstairs to your room, Billy sits on your bed with a sigh. You curl beside him, wrapping your arms around his waist and kissing his cheek.

“I don’t know where I’m gonna live,” he says, “I’m sure he’s already packed my shit up.”

“It’s okay, Billy, you can stay here. You know that. We’ll save up and we can go find an apartment somewhere,” you assure him as you play with a few of his loose curls.

He heaves another sigh, “When are we gonna tell them?” His question is a whisper, Mary’s been known to hover by the door to eavesdrop.

“Soon,” you inform him, “Not tonight, but soon.”

Billy lays down on the bed and closes his eyes. You’d love to lay beside him and kiss his worries away but you desperately need a shower. You lean down and whisper in his ear, “Take a nap, baby. I’m gonna shower, I’ll wake you up for dinner.”

And with that, you’re leaving the room, closing the door behind you. Billy readjusts himself so his head is at your pillow. His eyes fall on the forgotten contraceptive case on your nightstand and his stomach churns. He’s gonna be a dad and the fear of turning out like Neil forces tears in his eyes, teetering out onto his cheeks as he shoves his face into your pillow to muffle his labored breathing. As if you put some kind of spell on him, he passes out without realize how exhausted he actually is.

“Billy…” you coo, tucking his hair behind his ear and stroking your thumb along his cheekbone. “Dinner is ready. A nice home cooked meal.”

He moans, wanting to keep sleeping but his stomach grumbles in protest. His eyes force themselves open and he looks up at you, the golden sun filtering through your sheer curtains and lighting up your skin beautifully.

“You’re tan,” he realizes aloud, smiling lazily.

You glance down at your arms and then back at him, cheeks flushed, “Huh, guess California sun likes me better than Florida.”

He sits up and leans into your lips to give you a tender kiss, then the panic sets in again. “Have they come looking for me?”

You shake your head, standing up and putting your hands out for him to grab, “Max was outside skating a bit, but she just waved to me when she saw me.”

He lets you lift him to his feet, patting the top of your head when he’s standing. His eyes dart to the window again and he can see Neil’s truck in the driveway still. He figures the fight can wait until tomorrow and pretends his father doesn’t exist as he follows you to the kitchen. He takes a place next to you at the table, graciously taking the water Mary offers him and gulps it down.

“Thank you,” he nods, breathless and then looks down at the food. Steak and baked potatoes, a rather nice meal which Billy had thought would’ve been out of your dads budget. “Things going well at the shop?” he asks, cutting his steak up.

“Very well,” your dad admits, “In fact, I don’t have enough hands. You wouldn’t be interested, would you?”

Billy smiles to him, “Actually, I would. Can’t be a lifeguard forever.”

“Billy actually worked for a mechanic before, in San Diego,” you tell your dad with a wink to your boyfriend.

“Oh, yeah? What kind of stuff did you do there?” your dad asks before shoveling potato into his mouth.

“Oil changes, mostly. A few tire changes and break replacements,” he shrugs, “I only worked there for six months before we moved.”

Your dad nods, “How about you come in Monday?”

Billy smiles, “Okay, sounds awesome. Thanks, Dale.”

Your brother speaks up now, “Did you guys get in a fight?”

Both you and Billy look at him curiously and he continues, “You got bruises all over your necks.”

You flush, throwing a piece of steak at your little brother for teasing you. However, Billy seems to think he’s actually oblivious to what they are, “Yeah, I won.”

“Oh, my god,” you hang your head, eyes trained on the plate in front of you, afraid to see the horrified looks on your dad and Mary’s faces.

“So how was the rental car?” The savior, your father, changes the subject and Billy let’s out a borderline aroused sigh.

“My god, that car was incredible,” he gushes, “Handled like a dream. Thank you for that, really.”

“What car did you get them?” Mary asks with a lifted brow.

“A ‘79 L82 Corvette,” Billy recites, “It was fucking gorgeous.”

“How much did that cost, Dale?” she asks incredulously to which your father shrugs.

“Don’t worry about it, Mary. The kid deserved it.”

Billy feels his chest swell. He’d never heard anyone say something like that about him. His own father was always telling him he didn’t deserve anything and he was a total disappointment. He really appreciated your dad, seeing a healthy father figure in him and was suddenly incredibly excited to work for him.

“Thanks again, I really appreciated it,” he says.

Dale grins, “Glad you liked it. The mayor brought his in the other month and I got to drive it around a bit. Figured you would appreciate the car as much as I do.”

Billy nods, “Oh, I did. A bit of a struggle with the surfboards but we managed.” He turns to you and smiles, “This one here actually caught a couple waves.”

You blush, “I was being dragged underwater mostly.”

“You plan on moving back?” Your dad asks Billy.

He sighs, “Yeah, one day. I gotta find a place here like yesterday.”

Mary looks at him quizzically, “Parents won’t let you stay there?”

Billy’s face winces, the subject not one he’s willing to be truthful about. Can’t admit his dad kicked him out at the first sign of lost control, the first time Billy firmly stood up for himself. “Ya know, summer jobs over, I’m eighteen, gotta grow up.”

Mary frowns, “Do you need somewhere to stay in the meantime?”

He’s not so good at accepting help, afraid he’ll seem weak if he faces the fact that he might need it. “Maybe,” he shrugs, “I’ll probably couch surf for a bit.”

Dale shakes his head, “You can stay here whenever you need.”

“I appreciate it. I’ll let you know.”

After dinner, Billy tells you he needs to run and grab smokes.

“You just want to spend time with your other girlfriend,” you tease.

“Psh,” he laughs, “Ol’ blue? I haven’t seen her in three weeks. I know she’s begging for me to drive her.”

You’re glad Billy got your joke, you kiss his cheek, “Don’t be out too late with her.”

Once he’s out the door you decide to get started on Billy’s laundry from the trip. Separating the colors as you dig through the suitcase you’d dragged downstairs. You’re focused on the task at hand, not seeing when Mary lodges herself between the doorframe so you jump when you see her.

“God, you startled me,” you hold a hand to your chest.

She apologizes, “Sorry. Did you have a good trip?”

You nod, tossing a shirt in the washer and then reaching for the detergent. You begin pouring it in the cup, pulling the lever to start the water, “It was really nice. Billy liked being home.”

“So when are you gonna tell him?” she asks and you freeze, immediately assuming she knows and she’s asking when you were going to tell your dad that you’re pregnant.

Terrified, you remember how you would play dumb to get out of trouble with your dad.

“Tell who, what?”

“Billy. When are you gonna tell him you haven’t been taking your birth control?” Mary demands, tone sharp and judgmental.

You turn to her, unable to control it as your eyes get misty. You grab onto her wrist and pull her into the laundry room, closing the door behind you. Her demeanor changes after seeing the emotion forming tears. Softer, concerned as she rubs your arm and looks at you with a tilt of her head.

“I forgot it here and I didn’t realize until… until it was too late,” you admit, voice wavering while hot tears stain your cheeks. It’s hard to talk, chest tight and your throat closing.

“Too late?” she whispers, hoarsely. “Y/n, are you….”

“Pregnant,” you hiccup out, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“Honey…” she sighs and pulls you into a motherly hug. “Does Billy know?”

You nod, sobs shaking through you as you try to answer, “He went through my purse and saw the test.”

“What does he want to do?” she asks, “What do you want to do?”

You both talked in depth about it the days following him finding out. Billy was intrigued with the idea in a way you never expected, albeit he seemed sexually excited about having gotten you pregnant and he mentioned numerous times about how your breasts would swell but when you had asked him seriously if he wanted to go through with it, he admitted the idea was terrifying but something about getting rid of it did not sit right with him. Told you when he thought about it he felt sick. You felt the same way. You weren’t ready to be a mother but how many people were? As long as you both tried, how bad could it be?

“We want to keep it,” you admit, pulling back to gauge her reaction.

Mary couldn’t have kids. You believe that’s why she settled into the mother role in your family so easily. You also thought that because she couldn’t have children, she’d be hesitant to suggest you don’t go through with the pregnancy.

“I think that’s the right idea,” she says and smiles at you. “I have no clue how your father will react, but you two have my support. However, this town is small, too small and people talk. You two should seriously considered getting married and moving into a place together.”

You’d fantasized about it, about marrying Billy but you didn’t dare bring it up to him. His upbringing wasn’t something he ever seemed up for talking about and you worried the trauma would turn him off from the whole ideal of domesticity.

“I need to talk to him about that stuff…” you sigh and turn to his suitcase, realizing you already do small things that maybe a wife would do. You didn’t exactly have the greatest example growing up.

“And you two have to sit your dad down, tell him. I can’t keep this a secret,” she warns with her eyes straight.

You agree with a nod, you’d been thinking about ways to tell him since the test turned blue. You still had the vial in your purse, hoping it would become a happy memento.

You hear the front door open and shut, alerting you that Billy was back. Mary leans back to open the door, shooting him a curious look which instructs him to walk over.

“Oh, thanks, babe,” he says when he sees you’re washing his clothes, “you didn’t have to do that.”

Mary eyes him, “Congratulations, Billy.”

“She knows,” he says to you, eyes worried.

You nod, wiping the tears from your cheeks before reaching out for him. He barrels through, arms circling you protectively and you squeeze him.

“She thinks it’s a good idea we want to keep it,” you reassure him with a whisper against his ear.

Mary places a hand on each of you, “Have that talk,” she says to you and wanders back to her and your dads bedroom.

“Smoke?” he offers, holding up the pack of cigarettes and you giggle. He bought Marlboro lights instead of Reds. Thinking of baby. You grab onto his arm and pull him out front. You two sit on the stoop, facing where he used to live. You snuggle up with him and watch as he lights the cigarette, sucking harder than normal.

He looks at it displeased and you’re aware they don’t hit like a regular one but you’re floored with his attempt anyway. It was such a thoughtful gesture you want to get on your knees and ask him to marry you, which brings what Mary said to the forefront of your brain.

“What do you think about marriage, Billy?”

His fingers pass you the cigarette and he rubs your back, “Are you hinting at something or genuinely curious?”

“I guess both. Mary thinks we should have a shotgun wedding. She’s worried what people will think of us,” you inform him, resting your head against his shoulder while you take a drag.

“I’m sure my dad will say I have to marry you when he finds out I knocked you up,” he replies and you sigh. He kisses your temple, “Marriage is scary but at this moment in time… I can’t imagine being with another woman.”

“Why is it scary?” you ask, knowing the answer. You were scared for the same reason but you figured Billy might need to talk this one through.

He bites his lip and looks over at Neil’s truck, flashes of his mother coming to him, the yelling matches, the physical fights but the tenderness she had for Billy also comes to mind. “What if I’m like him?”

“You’re not,” you assure him, fingers gripping the back of his calve. “I don’t think that man has a soft edge to him. Yours are coming in. Besides Billy, I’ve seen you with the kids at the pool, you’ll be a great dad.”

“A good husband?”

You blush, fantasizing about it, “The fucking best.”

Billy scrunches his face up, “How can you be so sure?”

You turn to him, “You already give me everything I could ever want or need. You’re patient, forgiving and so incredibly thoughtful.”

He sighs, snaking the cigarette from you, “What if it’s genetic? Hard to believe my mom would’ve married him if he was horrible from the get go.”

“Billy, baby…” you place a hand on his cheek and turn his face so your eyes meet, “What I feel because of you is so… intense and wonderful, there’s no way you could turn into him.”

Billy’s heart feels heavy in his chest, his eyes get misty as this is such a contrast to the usual things he hears about himself. You allow him to feel so vulnerable that he selfishly wants to take it for everything it is. He wants to wake up next to you for the rest of his life, aches to make a big ol’ family with you. He feels giddy at the thought of a bunch of little tots running around the house while you cook and he plays with the kids. It seems too good to be remotely possible.

“I’ll get back to you on the marriage thing,” he says, “But I need you to know it’s not all scary, I think it sounds pretty nice, too.”

“I really love you,” you whisper.

“I love you too,” he replies.

You wake with Billy’s morning wood pressed against your ass and you swear you feel him grinding against you. You’d closed the door last night, figuring Mary’s rule was a lost cause at this point. At least you weren’t impregnated in the house.

You grab onto his hand and bring it to your breast, pushing your bum against his erection. Billy groans and his hand squeezes you. So he is awake, you think. You giggle and lean your head back against his shoulder.

“Good morning,” you mumble hazily, sleep still clouding your head.

Billy makes a garbled noise in response, it’s definitely words but you can’t understand them. You can hear that Mary is blasting music, it’s Sunday which is the day she deep cleans the house and most weeks, she wakes you for help. So a little morning quickie might be risky but that could make it more fun. You slowly grind your ass against him, earning a low moan from your boyfriend as he places sleepy kisses along your neck. You move your hand up behind your head to tangle your fingers in his frizzy curls. He pulls up your top, just over your breasts and lazily plays with your perked nipple. Your body tingles all over, the way he touches you ignites every nerve. Your core is buzzing with arousal.

“Billy…” you gasp, softly and you can feel him smirk against your neck.

His fingers slip down into your waistband and he groans when he feels through your soaking folds, “God, you’re so wet.”

You tilt your head back and nod, “Just can’t get enough of you.”

Billy slides two fingers inside your pussy with ease, licking against your neck as you clench around him. You melt at his touch. Every time Billy touches you it feels like you’re floating, almost like you’re under a spell or something.

His breath his hot against your ear when he laughs softly, “Yeah?”

You grind your ass against him again, “Mhm. Want you so bad. All the time.”

Billy curls his thick fingers deep before hurrying his pace, fucking you with his fingers. You spread your legs, your jaw dropping open as your breath hitches in your throat. You’re so close, feeling the sensation sinking in your stomach.

Knock, Knock.

Billy’s fingers leave you in seconds and you’ve never been more frustrated, catching your breath as you try not to cry from the ruined moment. You were seconds away from coming all over Billy’s fingers.

“What?” you manage to choke out, unable to hide the irritation in your voice.

Billy rolls onto his stomach after pulling your top down, faking sleep and hiding his boner. You sit up as the door opens, pretending to rub your eyes from sleep and not because they’re leaking tears from frustration of a halted orgasm.

“Mary asked me to come wake you two,” your dad explains, “She’d like you to come help clean.”

“Kay,” you say, “We’ll be down soon.”

Your dad nods, awkwardly smiling before closing the door. You listen to his footsteps fading away and you lay back down, awaiting Billy’s fingers to return pleasuring you but they don’t.

“Billy,” you whine, turning to him when he rolls back over onto his back. “Come on,” you grab at his arm and pull it towards you. He chuckles and presses a kiss to your forehead before getting up out of the bed.

“You’ve got to go help clean,” he grins, “We’ll just have to finish later.” Billy reaches for his jeans, jumping into them as he watches you gape at him from the bed.

“You’re so mean,” you gripe, kicking your legs in the air.

Billy grabs onto your ankle, tugging you to the end of the bed and then pulls you so you’re standing with him. “Take it as a lesson,” he purrs, fingertips ghosting up and down your ribs.

“S’a dumb lesson,” you mumble, still trying hard to push your arousal away. But the way Billy had just manhandled you made it about ten times worse.

“Don’t be a brat,” Billy warns you, pulling away to find his shirt.

Billy is such a fucking dick. First, it was when you were vacuuming and he just had to get around you, pressing against your ass and muttering a sickly, sweet apology. He’s not even cleaning like he said he would. He’s just watching and inconveniencing you the whole time.

Trying your best to ignore him, you grab the Windex and spray the window. As your wiping the solution off with the rag, you feel Billy’s breath on your neck. He purses his lips and he presses his body against yours from behind, reaching out and and pointing at the window.

“Huh,” he sounds, lips so close to your ear, “You missed a spot.”

Chills run up your spine, and you elbow Billy. “Fuck off,” you turn and glare up at him.

He chuckles, patting your bum and walking back into the kitchen to get his coffee. You get a bit of peace when he goes to the backyard for a cigarette. You’d wished Mary wasn’t tucked away deep cleaning her and your dads closet so Billy wouldn’t be so bold to tease you so much. You did like it, but you were still pretty pissed off from this morning.

You’re cleaning the counters when he finally sends you over the edge. Billy waltzes into the kitchen, stopping at the bowl of fruit on the table and picks up a peach. He rinses the fruit and leans on the island counter, directly across from where you’re scrubbing at a particularly tough stain. Your gaze shoots up when he takes a bite, the obscene squelch alerting your attention. Your eyes are locked on his mouth, his pink and plumps lips shiny from the juice of the peach and it drips down his hand and wrist. He lifts hand to lick the mess, his tongue broad against his wrist. Breath catching in your throat, you’re in a trance. Your hands continue moving the washcloth back and forth on the counter but you’re not even watching what you’re doing, unable to look away from his lips and tongue as he devours the peach in an erotic show. The way he’s slurping up the sticky, sweet wetness from the supple peach reminds of something and you’re biting your lip to stifle the moan erupting from your throat.

He straightens up and walks around the island, holding the peach up to your lips. “Have some,” he offers, licking his lips and looking into your eyes.

You shiver under his gaze but you lean in to take a bite of the fruit he’s offered and you’re certain you don’t look quite as sexy as he did. In fact, you’re sure you look awkward and silly. Juice drips down your chin and Billy’s rushing to lick it up and then kissing you, flicking his tongue against your lips. You part your lips, eagerly welcoming his tongue inside. You taste the peach and you feel dizzy, having to grip onto his shirt so you don’t melt in a puddle on the floor. But he’s pulling away too quick and you whimper, eyes opening to see him smirking at you around another bite of the peach. He wanders away, turning his back to you and you pick up the damp washcloth and throw it at him.

“Hey,” he turns around, picking it off the floor and looking at you, “That wasn’t very nice.”

“You’re not being nice,” you seethe, uncomfortably wet in your panties.

“Who’s not being nice?” Mary asks as she strolls into the kitchen with a laundry basket. She plops it on the counter and starts putting away the dishrags she’s washed.

“No one,” Billy says with a tight smile, “We’re just playing.”

You squint your eyes at him, ripping the washcloth from his hand and tossing it in the sink. He cackles, tosses the peach in the trash and announces, “Well, I’m gonna take a shower.”

“Good,” you quip, “You need one.”

Mary glances curiously between the two of you and asks once Billy descends down the hall, “What was that about?”

“Nothing,” you grumble, tucking your hair behind your ear as she gives you a pressing look. “He’s right. We were just playing. Not actually fighting.”

She shrugs and leans against the counter, “Are you two gonna tell your dad today?”

Your stomach flips, you’d kind of forgotten you were pregnant with all of the ‘playing’ Billy was doing to do today. He made it really easy to forget about scary, important things.

“Today?”

“Yes,” Mary insists, “You’ve got to tell him. Especially if Billy plans on moving in.”

“It’s been one day of him staying here, what do you mean moving in?”

“Does he have anywhere else to go?” Mary challenges softly and your heart aches because he doesn’t. At least, you can’t think of anywhere he could go.

“His dad is… scary,” you admit, keeping your voice hushed so Billy doesn’t overhear you. “I don’t want him to have to go back.”

“Honey, your dad and I are fine with him staying here but all I ask is you two tell your dad you’re pregnant. Today,” she says.

“Fine,” you heave a sigh. “We’ll tell him tonight.”

You’re laid on your stomach on the bed when Billy finally finishes his shower, magazine laid out in front of you. Defiantly, you stare at the glossy pages instead of at him like you really want to. In your peripheral, you can see him scrunching the water out of his hair with a towel. His eyes are on you, you can feel them. He’s walking over and then you see white, the damp towel being tossed over your head as you hear his howling laugh. You pull it off and scowl up at him.

“You’re in quite the mood today,” you express, annoyed.

He ruffles up your hair, “I’m just having fun.”

You roll your eyes and flip the page, “Tormenting me is fun to you?”

He pulls the magazine from your gaze and drops it to the floor, sitting in its place. “You like it,” he retorts, placing his knuckle under your chin and guiding your face up to look at him.

“No, I don’t,” you state, knowing it’s a lie.

He chuckles, “I find that hard to believe. If I’d reached into your panties in the kitchen, it would be a mess.”

He was right, you had to change them when you got upstairs because of how ruined they were. And he’s doing it to you again. The predatory haze in his eyes and the soft, yet commanding grip on your chin send shockwaves straight to your core. Even if you weren’t so pent up from all the days teasing, you’d still be reacting to him like this.

“How long until dinner?” he asks.

You make a dumbfounded look at him, confused why he’s concerned about that. Is he that hungry? “Uh, probably a couple hours. Why?”

Billy smirks, standing up from the bed and turning on your stereo system, the last cassette you’d enjoyed flooding from the speakers. He strides back over to you, gripping your arms and pulling you up. Oh, you think, excitedly, that’s why he’s asking.

“Figured you’ve been good enough today,” he mumbles, laying you on your back and crawling on top of you.

Finally.

You spread your legs to accommodate his thick thighs, raising your hands above your head. His strong hands smooth up your sides, your shirt bunching up with them. He traces the bare skin with his fingertips and presses his lips to your jaw. Goosebumps raise all over your skin, a chill running up your spine as you illicit a tiny whimper. He smirks against your skin and slips his fingers into your waistband, tugging your shorts down. He sits up to guide them down your legs and you bring your thighs against your chest to help. Repeating the same motion with your underwear. You press your feet back on the sheets, gazing up at him in anticipation.

“Fuck,” Billy growls, “You’re so wet.”

He drags his fingers down your folds, leaning down to press an eager kiss to your lips. You grab onto his jaw, moaning into his mouth while he slides his two fingers inside your aching hole. Billy’s pace is slow but he spreads his fingers every time he pulls back, stretching you out.

You push him back and look up at him, “No more teasing. I can’t take it.”

He smiles back at you, biting his lower lip as he does so. Your voice is so desperate, sounding like you’re on the verge of tears. And while Billy really wants to keep pushing until you’re a crying, pleading mess, he knows how cruel that is. So he pushes his sweats and briefs down, grabbing a hold of his cock and sliding it into you with ease. You moan out at the sensation of finally being full. You’d been craving this since you woke up and his teasing had wound you up tight. You have to stop yourself from thrashing against him, wanting to maintain some composure but you can’t stop your hips from moving in some way, jolting against him in unsteady thrusts.

He smoothes your hair back from your face, grinning wickedly as he lets you do all the work. He looks all too amused by this, frustrating you endlessly.

“Would you just fuck me already?” you huff, grabbing a hold of his curls and pulling.

Billy laughs at that but he listens, pinning your hips to the mattress with his. He grinds against you but the lack of speed in his movements agitates you more. If he wasn’t so strong, you’d force him on his back and show him exactly what you wanted. Then you realize you do have a way to get Billy to do what you want and acting like a petulant brat isn’t the way to go.

You pant now, “Please, Billy…” arching your back, “I need it so bad… please. Pretty please.”

His eyes light up, “That’s a good girl. Beg for it.”

You could scream. The ardency in his voice sending you right into that crying puddle he wanted you to be.

“Please,” you whimper, “Please fuck me, Billy. Can’t take it anymore.”

He groans before crashing his lips against yours, his hands angling your hips up and at last pounds into you. Every thrust erupting a moan out of you, “Ah-ah-ah!”

You’re grateful he had the foresight to turn your stereo on because with the force he’s drilling into, it would be impossible to stay quiet. He grabs onto your wrist and guides your hand between your legs, once you’re rubbing against your clit he grabs your face and squishes your cheeks together.

“Cum for me, babygirl,” he orders breathlessly, his intense blues scanning your face.

The tightness inside you finally releases, your back arching and the way he’s smooshing your face muffles the scream tearing out of your throat. Billy doesn’t relent, in fact, you’re sure he goes even faster and harder if it’s possible. You’re not exactly able to comprehend much, the earth shattering orgasm making everything go numb for a bit. You’re hazy, dazed and laying there with dreamy smile and misty eyes. You feel Billy’s cum splatter onto your stomach and chest.

His chaotic, pleased laugh brings you back to reality and you hum at him.

“I gotta do that more often. I fucked you dumb,” he laughs, propping himself up on his elbow to look at you.

“Hmm,” you hum again, smiling still.

“Oh, no,” Billy hovers his face over yours, “Did I break you? You still with me?” He snaps his fingers in front your eyes and looks down at you concerned.

“I’m with you,” you whisper out, your voice hoarse and breathless.

He presses a loving kiss to your forehead, moving to grab something to clean his mess up. Once he does, you sit up and touch your throat. It’s so dry. You swing your legs over the bed and try to stand up but your legs won’t stop shaking and you fall back into the mattress.

Billy scoffs, seemingly impressed with himself as he leans against your dresser. “Jesus Christ, I really did a number on you, huh?”

“Water,” you plead, staring up at your ceiling. The satisfied smile hasn’t left your face. You hear Billy shut off the stereo and shuffle around, assuming that he’s getting dressed. He kisses your forehead again, pushing your hair back. “I’ll be right back, babe.”

Dinner is awkward, really awkward. You’re still a little spacey. Billy had to help you walk to the kitchen, which had Mary glaring at you. But hey, you were already pregnant, what was the harm now?

You knew you and Billy would have to break the news to your father after dinner and you hadn’t exactly told Billy you had to do that. You take the opportunity when he excuses himself out back for a smoke. You follow him, snatching one for yourself and sit on the edge of the deck with him. He wraps his arm around your shoulder, “Glad to see you’re coming back to earth.”

“Yeah… that was… I’ve never felt like that before,” you admit.

Billy blushes, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen it before.”

“I liked it,” your cheeks match his.

He chuckles, pulling your face to his for a chaste kiss. “I hope I can do it again.”

“I believe in you,” you chirp and giggle. Then you turn your face serious, “Listen… we’ve got to tell my dad I’m pregnant when we go back in there.”

Billy sighs, dropping his arm from your shoulder, “You think he’s gonna kill me?”

You shrug, “Maybe.” Unable to mask it, your lips curl up into a smile, “I’m joking. He likes you, he won’t kill you.”

He rolls his eyes, “I’m not so sure.”

Grabbing into his jaw, you turn him to look at you again, “Hey, baby. It’s okay. The worst he’s gonna do is make you marry me.”

Billy laughs and you’re happy to see that smile again, even if he’s laughing at the prospect of marrying you. Then it’s falling again, “God. I haven’t even really thought about what my dad would say… or do.”

“We’ll tell him when you’re ready. If that’s never… then that’s fine too.”

Billy kisses you, biting at your bottom lip and when he pulls back he presses his forehead to yours, just looking at you. You feel hot under his gaze, always do. He pinches your cheek and stands to his feet, “Well, let’s go see if I have to marry you.”

With a roll of your eyes, you follow him back inside, seeing that Mary and your dad are seated at the table and they both look at you expectantly. Billy laces his fingers with yours and guides you into the kitchen.

“Mary says you two got something to tell me,” your dad says with an eyebrow raised curiously.

She was gonna make sure you two told him tonight. You nod and look up at Billy, who swallows the lump in his throat. You sit at the table, never letting go of Billy’s hand.

“So… I know the timing isn’t awesome but it’s not like we planned it or anything…” you start, glancing to Mary and seeing her confused expression. Apparently you weren’t saying the right thing. What was the right way to say this?

“Uh…” you turn to look at Billy, but he’s looking straight down at the table. You clear your throat and he looks up at you, his eyes begging you not to make him talk. You glance back to your dad’s bewildered face.

So you sigh heavily and squeeze your eyes shut, “I’m pregnant.”

When you don’t hear anything, you peek one eye open to see your dad. He doesn’t look angry, he doesn’t look shocked but he looks sad. And you think maybe that’s worse.

“They want to keep it, Dale,” Mary whispers to him and your dad just nods.

“So are you two going to find a place together then?” Your dad asks, “I know times are different and all but, are you gonna get married? What’s your plan?”

You look to Billy, his eyes still burning holes into the table. You had no idea. There wasn’t a plan. Actually, you guys hadn’t talked too much about the pregnancy at all. Only that you both wanted it.

“Well…” you look to Billy, “I guess we don’t know.”

Your dad scoffs, “Having a kid is a big responsibility. And trust me, I want grandkids. I thought it would be a while but these things happen. Hell, you weren’t planned. Your mom and I were a little older but it was still rough.”

“I know,” you mumble. You’re upset Billy hasn’t said anything but you know you struggled to find any words at the moment.

“Don’t get me wrong, if you’re happy, I’m happy,” your dad says, “The first thing anyone should say is congratulations, you’re just still my baby.”

Billy looks up at the table, at your dad now and smiles weakly. He knows he’s got to step up, knows this is a family he wants to be a part of. Maybe it’s because your dad didn’t immediately leap over the table to choke him out.

“Thank you for… not being mad, I guess,” he says. It’s something.

Your dad stands up, “Well you two have nine months to prepare. Then the really hard part comes.” He walks around the table and pulls you into a hug, squeezing you tight. You hug him back, choking back tears. You can’t hold them back when he pulls Billy in for a hug, seeing the way Billy hesitates at first but accepts it. You quickly wipe them away, chewing your bottom lip.

“Start working on your plan,” your dad says to the two of you.

When Mary and him walk back towards their room, Billy laces his fingers in yours and heaves a big sigh, “God, I thought he was gonna murder me.”

#billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x f!reader #billy hargrove

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tomorrowusa · 6 months

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Extremist fundamentalists of different religions seem to have more in common with each other than they do with moderates of the same faith. They are invariably intolerant control freaks who feel they have the right to impose their wills on others. MAGA Mike Johnson would fit in well with Iran's theocrats.

Since his fellow Republicans made him their leader, numerous articles have reported Johnson’s religiously motivated, far-right views on abortion, same-sex marriage and LGBTQ+ rights. But that barely scratches the surface. Johnson was a senior lawyer for the extremist Alliance Defending Fund (later the Alliance Defending Freedom) from 2002 to 2010. This is the organization responsible for orchestrating the 303 Creative v Elenis legal arguments to obtain a ruling from the supreme court permitting a wedding website designer to refuse to do business with gay couples. It also played a significant role in annulling Roe v Wade. The ADF has always been opposed to privacy rights, abortion and birth control. Now Roe is gone, the group is laying the groundwork to end protection for birth control. Those who thought Roe would never be overruled should understand that the reasoning in Dobbs v Jackson is not tailored to abortion. Dobbs was explicitly written to be the legal fortress from which the right will launch their attacks against other fundamental rights their extremist Christian beliefs reject. They are passionate about rolling back the right to contraception, the right to same-sex marriage and the right to sexual privacy between consenting adults. Johnson’s inerrant biblical truth leads him to reject science. Johnson was a “young earth creationist”, holding that a literal reading of Genesis means that the earth is only a few thousand years old and humans walked alongside dinosaurs. He has been the attorney for and partner in Kentucky’s Creation Museum and Ark amusement park, which present these beliefs as scientific fact, a familiar sleight of hand where the end (garnering more believers) justifies the means (lying about science). For them, the end always justifies the means. That’s why they don’t even blink when non-believers suffer for their dogma.

There was recently a big experiment in rejecting science with the far right campaigning against COVID-19 vaccinations. That may have cost hundreds of thousands of lives in the US. MAGA Mike would like to apply that to all sectors of life in the US.

Setting aside all of these wildly extreme, religiously motivated policy preferences, there is a more insidious threat to America in Johnson’s embrace of scriptural originalism: his belief that subjective interpretation of the Bible provides the master plan for governance. Religious truth is neither rational nor susceptible to reasoned debate. For Johnson, who sees a Manichean world divided between the saved who are going to heaven and the unsaved going to hell, there is no middle ground. Constitutional politics withers and is replaced with a battle of the faithful against the infidels. Sound familiar? Maybe in Tehran or Kabul or Riyadh. But in America?

By doing anything other than voting Democratic in an election (i.e. voting Republican, wasting a vote on a loser third party, writing in a dead gorilla, not voting at all) people help pave the way for a fascist theocracy in the US.

Speaker MAGA Mike Johnson is already second in line for the presidency. That is WAY too close.

Voting may not always be convenient but theo-fascism is far less convenient.

#maga mike johnson #us house of representatives #republicans #the far right #theocracy #theo-fascism #christian nationalists #scriptural originalism #young earth creationism #pseudoscience #extremist fundamentalist christians #abortion #reproductive freedom #dobbs v. jackson women's health organization #register and vote #election 2023 #election 2024

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sjhanny2000 · 2 years

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Baby Maybe?

A/N: Well folks, we've made it to the end of what was originally my 300+ Followers Event. Now I'm nearing 830 followers, a number I'd never thought I'd reach! Thank you for all of your love and support this past year or so with TDoFL and the other works that have followed. Now, please enjoy!

Warning(s): angst, hurt w/ comfort, marital problems, arguing, self-esteem issues, pregnancy, reconciliation, KNY Season 2 spoilers, non-canon universe

Word Count: 4.2k+

Tag-List:

@mshope16

@milkyanon @simpforerensattacktitan @trashfox @midnightmystic @ink-dot-kay @misshale21 @savagemickey03 @honeyhoneyhonie @hnm-mika @bittersw33t-lotus @hyuckie-s @firsthokage @happycandynoelle @duffyalamode @xadri3nn3x @splaterparty0-0 @thatcatladywrites @raylovessarcasm @little-bunnybabe @rosechvnel @the-celestial-kitsune @chl0rinewater @milkbttle @igobypersonorthing @shiphappen-s @unsuretater-simp @azyelialuvsyou @xmikasai @duskmammel @lynnethehotshot @royaltysuite @milkiemei @xxsleepy-pandaxx @jasminejamm @jaxx2047 @superhoagiehairdodreamer @royaltysuite @cottoncandy-cult @dogloveri23 @theunknownanimememer @a3l1an4 @froggyfishes @xmikasai @iheartmyselff @aeridabee @ghostanimegirlhere @ratstravanga @kittyturtle @dokiesoapy @babygirl-panda19 @ihatemyselftoinfinityandbeyond @laserry @xiaostic @loverspedia @inactiveindefinitely @258raindrop-blog @rue-ting @snowflaketree @shadowfoxey @lynnethehotshot @shaylove418 @ninistrawberrykisses @scarwoes @not-like-other-girls @sleepless-addict @lightingspring

If your tag didn't work, I apologize! Tagging with Tumblr can get a bit messy!

~~~

To say that the space between you and your husband was impossibly taut with heart wrenching tension was an overwhelming understatement.

Any gumption you had mustered throughout your journey home had evaporated within moments of visual contact, tears threatening to fall whilst your heart and mind continued to scream at one another. The fault rested on both your shoulders (did it?), and you were being forced to face it because what other choice did you have in the matter? You missed being with your spouses, of laying in bed within their arms through the rare early mornings all of you were present, of being cradled within Tengen’s lap as the girls eagerly had you taste test their latest culinary creations. While it hurt, you were also forced to swallow down the painful truth of your marriage; if you left, your wives would remain with Tengen, even if it was against their wishes. The three kunoichi had their obligations to the Sound Hashira and the Demon Slayer Corps., ones they could never break due to years upon years of countless conditioning they faced whilst still being of the shinobi faction of the Japanese population. You would be alone again but with a child you had no means of supporting, the little of your savings from your jobs within Oshika having been meager to begin with, and both of you would most likely live in poverty for the rest of your life and theirs. It wasn’t a life you wanted for your child, one which had been created out of a hurried moment of passion where neither you nor Tengen had been pondering over the possible consequences of your lustful actions. The herbal remedy for contraception that the girls’ had given you upon your arrival to the estate had somehow failed that day and here you were, seven and a half months pregnant and estranged from your husband, the one man in your life that you loved with every fiber of your being.

Life simply wasn’t fair.

“Y/N-chan,” Suma clutched onto your forearm with a worried whine, fear evident on her gorgeous pools of azure.

No one spoke.

No one moved.

No one dared to break the precarious situation set before them.

Fear was evident on every one of your faces.

“Y/N-sama!”

Then, just as the silence set in, it was shattered into a million tiny pieces.

Your attention shifted from Tengen’s quivering form to the ball of energy racing into view, pigtails flying beyond her at what seemed to be the speed of light itself.

Childishly ignorant, Hikari moved to bound over to your guarded position with star-filled eyes, a shout of joy escaping her suddenly toothless mouth. “You’re back!”

The poor child set herself to make her way to you, only for a hand worn from years of work to snatch Hikari’s right arm and yank it back, Nana-san gazing at you with wide, knowing eyes as she pulled her daughter towards her without remorse. “Hikari-!”

“Mama, let go! I wanna say hi to Y/N-sama!” Hikari struggled against her mother, using her free arm to pry at her mother’s iron-tight grasp.

Somehow, whether it be pure strength or her demanding will, Hikari broke free of Nana-san’s hold, the woman shouting after her daughter with horror. “Hikari!”

The little girl practically teleported over to you, wasting no time in approaching you with a beaming smile. “Y/N-sama!”

However, before she could reach you, Makio plucked the girl into the air without a hint of effort, the kunoichi ceremoniously plopping Hikari on her hip.

“Makio-sama! I wanna hug Y/N-sama, not you!” Hikari attempted to wriggle away from your doe-eyed wife, innocent frustration evident on her usually grinning features. Makio only met her with a stern glare and even stricter voice, bearing her own frustrations on her face. “Well that’s too bad! Y/N-chan can’t give you hugs right now-!”

“Why not?! Y/N-sama always gives me hugs! Y/N-sama!” The child thrashed against Makio like a wild animal, shoving her hand into the kunoichi’s reddening cheek with force you didn’t know she was capable of producing.

Suma stepped forward, angry tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. “You’re making this reunion so much harder than it needs to be, Hikari-chan! Y/N-chan can hold you later!”

“NOOOOOOOOOO! IF I DON’T HUG THEM NOW, THEY’LL LEAVE AGAIN!”

Those words felt like a swift knife to the heart, tears of your own pooling into your eyes. You wanted to curl into yourself, to be swallowed by the earth below your feet, to just disappear. Your emotions spilled out mercilessly from your wounded heart, gushing at an accelerated rate due to your raging hormones, and-.

Suddenly, your vision blurred and your knees gave way, heavy body sent flying to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

“Y/N-CHAN!!!” “Y/N-SAMA!”

In the far distance (when did they get so far away?) Makio and Suma screamed your name, and you faintly heard Hinatsuru’s join theirs, though she hadn’t called for you. She had called-.

Shouldn’t you have hit the ground already?

Emotions and thoughts awry, your vision slowly came into being, a blur of color leaning over your body as you laid limply in a cradle of pure muscle, just like-.

The scent of incense, sake, and wisteria gently waltz into your nostrils, the very smell you had longed to take in just one more time, even if it meant that your heart would break further. A calloused hand brushed tenderly against your right cheek, rough but mellow in touch, and a swift kick from the child within you finally brought your vision into full focus.

Pure, unadulterated worry smothered the lone remaining fuchsia iris belonging to your husband, Tengen gazing down at you with a hint of apprehension coloring his body language. He had never shown you such emotions before, always so calm or bursting with color speeches, ones that often reeked of narcissism yet the well-crafted self-confidence you cherished.

Had he been hurting as much as you had been?

The man’s focus shifted from your face to a lower part of your body, time slowing to a damning crawl as his eye widened in mortification. Mind muddled, you turned your attention to what had grasped his own, confused on what could have rocked the god of festivals so hard he had been left speechless. When your eyes landed on your protruding stomach, the world imploded.

Before the epinephrine could even be released into your bloodstream to set off the incoming panic attack forming, everything was moving in a blur, heart racing and breath labored from exertion. Your mind was swirling like a twister of wind and leaves, body reeling as you suddenly realized you were being supported on your own two feet a yard or so away, Hinatsuru on your right and Suma on your left, both kunoichi glaring at your husband with warning distaste.

“Don’t you dare touch them, you bastard!” Makio appeared in a rage from the corner of your eye, Hikari still perched on her hip. “We finally got them back, we don’t need you scaring them off again!”

Her brutal words seemed to deflate the Sound Hashira’s spirit even more than you physically thought possible and it broke something inside you to see the typically joyous man in shambles. Tengen gazed on with a shattered spirit, lone eye losing all brightness as it was saturated in painful reality, his remaining hand falling limply into his lap in soul crushing defeat.

With a quivering voice that stabbed at both your ears and eyes, you couldn’t help but watch as Tengen trembled under your gaze, pure and unadulterated grief marking his sickly features. “Please, let me-.”

The fiery kunoichi moved in for the kill, froth appearing at the corners of her mouth. “Let you what Tengen-sama, screw up even more than you already have?! You have a lot of nerve-!”

“ENOUGH!!!”

Just before Makio could land the final blow that you believed would have spiritually decapitated your shriveling husband, a voice that made all five of you submit within a single word breaking through the air without mercy like a crack of brutal lightning across the summer night sky.

You snapped to attention, head snapping to the left to see a stone-faced Nao-san steadily approaching with bloody purpose in each of her steps, the aging woman a sight to behold in her present fury. In all of your years of living with the retired kunoichi, you had never seen her so furious; sure, Nao-san was easily annoyed and disappointed, but she wielded her temper like a well-sharpened kunai.

The woman of the hour came to stop mere feet away from the small group you had made, turning her icy stare onto Hikari. “Go to your mother, girl. You’d do best not to meddle in matters that aren’t your business. Go!”

Makio wasted no time in setting the young girl on her feet, Hikari scrambling away in confused tears and searching for sanctuary within Nana-san’s arms, a look of warring emotions on the mother’s face. She swiftly disappeared back into the estate without a moment's hesitation, a whimpering Hikari within her arms, leaving the five of you to face the mess that had become your relationship.

If there was even a relationship now worth saving.

Nao-san turned her attention to you once they were out of view, her face an emotionless mask of stone. “Are you alright, Y/N-sama?”

You could only manage a wordless nod, too scared to say something that would further anger the terrifying woman, Suma apparently feeling the same way with how much she was shaking beside you.

She didn’t skip a beat, giving a nod of her own, kunai sharp irises shifting between the various members of the party. “Now, it is known that I do not enjoy meddling in your marital affairs for they are frankly none of my business. However, I am unwilling to stand aside as a bystander as I watch the one marriage I support with every fiber of my being fall apart over misunderstandings and mistakes made!”

“There is no one without fault in this situation, except perhaps the child this woman currently carries within her womb!” Nao-san's perfectly manicured index finger pointed towards your extended stomach with conviction, a menacing fire growing within her eyes. “A child that has done nothing to deserve being born into a broken family that can easily begin to mend itself if its parents were simply adults and learned how to communicate effectively without resorting to bullying and shouting matches!”

Promptly, Makio’s mouth audibly clicked shut.

The aging kunoichi wasn’t wrong, not in the slightest even, and it was a reality you knew that all five of you were struggling to accept. Yes, Tengen had been wrong, even cruel in what he had said to you, in how he degraded you for what felt like no reason at the time. Yes, your pain was valid but perhaps running away rather than facing the problem head on had been the wrong choice in the end. Both of your poor, emotion fueled actions had been disastrous for not only you but Tengen, your wives, and all of those around you, causing an explosion of he said, she said and hurt feelings all around. While you had been hiding from your marital problems, your spouses had been forced to face them head on, to search for you all over the country whilst wondering if said searches were futile, fearing that the worst had occurred just like it had almost happened before. On the nights where sleep was almost impossible for you during the journey homeward, Hinatsuru had conveyed through countless tears that your sudden disappearance had caused an instant deployment of all available Demon Slayers, how Oyakata-sama and the other eight Hashira had been just as adamant of finding you as your spouses had been. So adamant that all three women had been captured by Upper Moon Six whilst on their journey to find you, the same fight that led to the crippling of your flamboyant, boisterous Tengen, leading to a premature retirement drenched in liquor and desperation to find you.

Everything had been perfect before that accursed fight, before you and Tengen subsequently broke not only each other’s hearts but your three wives’ in one fell swoop, before the world flipped into a place of nightmares and acidic tears.

You just wanted everything to be okay again.

“It’s all my fault.”

Ten sets of eyes fell upon your trembling person, grief-filled tears wetting the flesh of your cheeks because you just couldn’t stop crying for one damn minute-.

“I wanted a child, I ran away, I’m having a child that isn’t wanted,” Body weak, you felt your shaking knees threaten to give way, Suma and Hinatsuru adjusting themselves to support your now hefty body weight. “I never wanted to hurt anyone. I just wanted to have a family with those who gave me one in the first place.”

Your hands came to hide your face, a painful sob wracking through your chest.

“I’m so sorry!”

Some part of you expected for Tengen to agree, that all of this was your fault because wasn’t it? You were the one who wanted a baby when your husband didn’t, you were the one who left like a spoiled child when you didn’t get what you wanted, you were the one to put all of your spouses through turmoil once again-.

“Didn’t you hear a single word that Nao-san said?”

Tengen’s voice was deep and was bare of any foretelling emotion, deadly calm and monotone; your body shivered in panicked anticipation for the other sandal to drop, just as you deserved.”

Imagine your surprise when a rough, calloused far too large to be one of your wives’ came to gently cup your chin as if it were made of glass, parting your hands without a sound, forcing you to face the man whom you equally loved and feared.

Tears brimmed the ex-shinobi’s dark lashes, fuchsia iris radiating endless loving fondness and shame, Tengen gazing down at you with his heart on his sleeve and on display for all to see.

“We’re all at fault here, my gorgeous spirit flower.” A wet gasp escaped your lips at his words, at him using your beloved nickname, body feeling as if you had been doused in an ice bath. “I’m sorry it’s taken so long for me to admit my own part in all of this.”

He, he was sorry. Tengen, one of the most prideful men you’ve ever met, had just admitted he was sorry.

A sob of relief escaped your lips as you threw your body as much as you physically could into Tengen’s remaining (how would you ever get used to that?) arms, relishing how the stone hard appendages adjust to your heavy form like it was routine for them. Those beloved arms swifting encased you in a cradle of muscle and bone, Tengen settling you into his lap like a father would a child, not a drop of sweat forming on his greasy forehead. You shoved your face into the crook of his neck, relishing in his musky scent, hints of jasmine and camellias haunting your nostrils like ghosts from the past.

Oh how you’ve missed this.

Time seemed to slow down as you laid in Tengen’s arms, his lone remaining hand slowly moving to brush (h/c) locks from your wet face, touch as brief as a feather and loving as a kiss. You didn’t dare move an inch, to breath, so fearful that all of this was a dream, that once you opened your eyes, all you would see is disappointment.

“Oh, Tengen-sama!”

Suma’s ear-piercing wail broke the veil of precarious peace, the sapphire-eyed kunoichi slamming her body into Tengen’s back and narrowly missing your vulnerable face whilst wrapping her arms tightly around his throat, a noise of distress leaving the Sound Hashira.

“Suma, you need to be careful!” Hinatsuru’s typically soft spoken voice was stern with warning, the violet wearing kunoichi doing her best to carefully your octopus of a wife from Tengen’s person.

It was unusual to hear Hinatsuru be the one to scold Suma, Makio always the first to put the emotional woman in her place, but the silence and lack of effort from the fiesty kunoichi was telling.

Forcing your eyes to open, you took in your surroundings with desperation, praying Makio was still here, that she hadn’t walked away like she had every right to. Both you and Tengen had hurt Makio, the wounds deep and refusing to heal even after your reunion with your wives’ unlike Suma and Hinatsuru, and she refused to acknowledge said wounds with an air of arrogance that you knew was fueled by the urge to hide away her pain. The kunoichi was extremely private when it came to own individual feelings, so scared to reveal the small child hiding within her that needed validation and sweet touches, to be smothered in love and attention. She had trusted Tengen just as much as she trusted you and in one fight, you had managed to shatter said trust into a thousand pieces.

Turning your head just a tad, you found your gaze falling upon Makio’s internally warring form, a wave of relief washing over you at the very sight of her.

The urge to smother the kunoichi in a warm hug burned within your chest, but you knew that’s neither what she needed nor wanted in this moment. Makio was a person whose trust you could only gain through action and you knew there was a lot of work in the future to repair the damage that had been wrought on her tough walls and tender heart. Still, every moment of labor would be worth it if it meant that your wife could give you her trust once again, even if it was only a third of it; Tengen was most likely of the same mindset, knowing how much your husband adored all four of you.

Reaching out your hand, you never broke eye contact with Makio, the child within your womb giving your hips soft but uncomfortable kicks. “Maki’, please.”

Emotional vulnerability was something almost all of you aside from Suma struggled with in varying degrees, but no more than Tengen and Makio. Yet, as you laid in Tengen’s lap, the Sound Hashira reached his hand outward to join your own. “Please, Makio. Give us one more chance.”

The kunoichi’s doe brown irises broiled with uncertainty, body twitching in war torn emotions, until finally, her hands began to inch forward until her battle weathered fingers met both of yours. Two more sets of fingers slithered forward, Suma’s hand taking hold of yours and Makio’s whilst Hinatsuru intertwined her own with Makio and Tengen’s, the five of you joined together once again after so long apart.

Quiet, comfortable silence filled the air between you all, eyes shifting between one another, searching for objection and understanding, praying that not a single one of you let go of another. Then, it shattered ever so softly with Tengen’s tenor voice.

“I know there’s a lot we need to work through, a lot we need to process and adapt to. Especially with this little one on the way.” His other hand–nub came to rub softly against your protruding stomach, a look of pained fondness on his handsome as ever face. “I know that I haven’t been even a tenth of the flamboyant husband you all deserve, but I want to be better, and to be a part of all your lives. You’re all I have in this bleak world and I can’t live another day knowing you aren’t the wives I can call mine anymore.”

“We need you too, Tengen-sama,” Hinatsuru crooned tearfully, the most sensible of the three kunoichi pressing her painted lips to the man’s gaunt cheek.

Suma gave an adamant nod of her own, thick tears cascading down her bright red face. “I wanna be a family again! WAAAHHHHHHH!!!”

Makio slapped the back of the wailing woman’s head without missing a beat this time, face curling into a snarl as tears threatened to fall from her beautiful eyes.

“Quit ruining the moment, you blubbering idiot!"

Her attention snapped back to Tengen, an emotionless mask shifting into place over her features. “Promise me, you won’t let this happen again. If it does, I’m not sure I’ll be able to forgive you, Tengen-sama. We love Y/N-chan just as much as we love you, but I’ll choose them over you in a heartbeat.”

Such a bold, unforgiving statement pushed the air out of your lungs in a burst of horrified awe, because Makio was putting her marriage to Tengen on the line for you of all people.

“Us too.”

Hinatsuru and Suma nodded in agreement, the three kunoichi looking to your husband with awaiting eyes, as if daring the man to make the wrong move or say the wrong thing.

Instead, much to your honest surprise, Tengen gave them a smile of his own. “You have the right to kill me where I stand if I ever do something like this ever again. I’ll hand you the sword myself.”

“Tengen-sama!” You couldn’t help but gasp at his words, quivering under the weight they held.

His focus fell upon you within a fond eye, overwhelming love swarming in those heart stopping fuchsia depths. Nubbed arm coming to rest on the top of your stomach, the Sound Hashira leaned downwards just enough to rub his nose against your own, foreheads coming to rest against one another. “Promise me, you’ll never leave me again, spirit flower. Please.”

The desperation in his voice shook you to your core but you forced your voice to work, trembling with emotion.

“I promise, Tengen-sama. Never again.”

Smooth, all encompassing lips belonging to the man swallowed your full ones, the kiss deep and sealing, full of relief and so many other feelings you failed to identify in that moment. After a few moments, a swift kick to Tengen’s nub broke the reunion, the two of you breaking away from each other with identical expressions of surprise.

Shifting his gaze downwards, a playful smile grew on your husband’s face, a look you had missed far too much for your own good.

“It seems we have some competition here, girls. Tengen Jr. doesn’t want to share his mommy’s attention.”

“Tengen Jr.?!”

“Tengen-sama, please, it’s just a baby!”

“No way in hell are we naming her Tengen Jr.!”

“Her?! Anyone can see they’re carrying a boy!”

“In your dreams!”

The bickering between the four of them brought a grin to your lips, pure and true, and a soft giggle followed, face creasing with loving fondness. Eight sets of eyes fell on your form, wide in awe and want, Hinatsuru turning to the other three for confirmation. “All in favor of taking Y/N-chan to the bedroom for cuddles?”

“AYE!”

Before you could even object, Tengen was standing at his full height with you nestled in his arms, a look of determination on his well-endowed features. “To the bedroom, my lovely wives!”

Makio and Suma raced towards the estate in a hurry, Hinatsuru calling after them in warning and Nao-san corralling the violet-eyed kunoichi inside, leaving you and Tengen to your lonesome. He began the trek into the estate, the both of you quiet and content with being together once more. However, just before you crossed the gate’s threshold, you lightly tugged on the man’s kimono. “Tengen-sama?”

“What is it, spirit flower?”

The ex-shinobi halted in his steps, focus falling onto your perched body, giving you the courage to speak the words on your mind.

“Are you sure you want this baby?” It was the question you desperately needed answered, the one that had continuously burned in the back of your mind for months now. So scared to see apprehension or regret paint his features, you tore your gaze away from his, scrunching your eyes closed as you prepared for the bow.

“It’s mine, isn’t it?”

Your eyes shot open in mortification, a shout ripping out of your throat as you gave him a firm slap to the chest in indignation. “TENGEN-SAMA!”

“Sheesh, calm down! It was just a joke!” Meeting your annoyance with his typical nonchalance, the Sound Hashira settled his lone eye on your two pools of (e/c), serious and honesty radiating from the fuchsia iris. “This baby is a part of you, and I want to have every part of you in my life until my dismal lifespan comes to an end. If you both will have me, of course.”

Lips blooming into a watery smile, you gave your husband a soft nod. “We’ll always have you, Tengen-sama.”

He nodded, continuing your shared journey into the estate. “Good. I would have been there for the both of you anyway even if you said no.”

“Tengen-sama!” You playfully swatted at Tengen with a laugh, settling into his hold with ease, just like old times.

The movement of your child within you, however, reminded you of all the new times and experiences awaiting your growing family and finally, after so long, you were ready to face what the future held for you.

~~~

Hearts, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated! See you next time!

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carlsdarling · 8 months

Text

How to save a cat Part V

Carl and Y/N have serious problems now... Everyone is 18 or over.

WARNINGS: angst

You lovingly gazed at Carl, who was lying relaxed next to you with his eye closed. A smile formed around his lips as you kissed him on the forehead, and he squeezed your hand. During the last weeks it had become cooler, autumn announced its coming, and the temperature in the hall of "Joyland" had dropped noticeably.

As often as possible, which was usually two days a week, you and Carl now came here to be undisturbed, to sleep with each other, and then just to lie together and celebrate your closeness and your love for one another.

You lazily turned over on your back and looked up at the ceiling. Somewhere up there on the steel beams, birds were nesting; you could hear their soft chirping.

Your father's attention had waned by now, probably assuming that you had listened to him and broken off contact with Carl. In Alexandria, you avoided each other as much as possible and exchanged only as many words as were absolutely necessary in order not to arouse suspicion.

You both successfully avoided the fact that your relationship was ill-fated. It was clear that Carl and you would never have a future together in Alexandria, under your father's eyes; your father was in the process of expanding his dominant position. He acted so unsympathetically and ruthlessly that both Jesus and Rachel, the leaders of Hilltop and Oceanside, had distanced themselves from Alexandria and reduced mutual trade. Only Negan was fairly unimpressed by your father's behavior.

It was obvious to you that the current situation could not stay like this, Carl and you were enjoying your relationship only two afternoons a week, and this had been going on for quite a while now and the bond between the two of you had become stronger and tighter; it was not just a fling, it was so much more and you could not and would not imagine a life without Carl by your side. But you didn't like to think about it, because there seemed to be no solution. So you lived the moment as best you could.

"We have to get back to Alexandria," Carl said, yawning as he sat up to kiss you, then you got dressed, Carl put his bandage back on, you gathered the trash, fixed up the makeshift bed for your next stay, and you left.

***

But just a few days later, you realized that you probably had a problem. At first, you had assumed that your period was simply late, after all, you and Carl had used protection every time. But when you were two weeks overdue, nausea set in, and your breasts began to become taut, you panicked. It couldn't, no it couldn't, be that you were pregnant.

You shared your worries with Carl the next time you visited your place of love. "Are you sure?" he questioned anxiously, rubbing his chin. "We've been so careful, haven't we?" Of course, Michonne had inculcated him to be extra mindful, and also pointed out to him that no contraception method was infallible, but Carl never imagined that you would actually have such bad luck.

"I don't have a test, so I'm not one hundred percent sure, but I'm afraid I really am pregnant," you said glumly. You couldn't explain how exactly it had happened - maybe one of the condoms had ruptured unnoticed, or it had slipped off a bit when Carl had pulled out of you, or maybe he'd had some sperm on his fingers when he touched your pussy; especially if you made several rounds. In the end, the details didn't matter; it had happened. You sought out a pharmacy nearby, but it had already been extensively looted, so there were no more pregnancy tests.

Another two weeks passed without your period, but the pregnancy symptoms increased noticeably. "Okay, I think we can be sure now," Carl summed up helplessly, and you began to cry in despair. That was the end. The end of you and Carl, the end of all. Carl wrapped you in his arms. "Don't cry, please. Don't cry, darling. I'll take care of you. We'll find a way out of this," Carl promised.

"But which one?" you sobbed, "There isn't one! I'll soon start to show, my dad will kill me, and then you!"

Carl mused. "We must escape, before anyone notices," he then decided. "We have to leave Alexandria secretly, and find shelter somewhere else."

"How do you think you're going to do that, Carl?" you asked incredulously.

"During the next few days, take some of your belongings to the hayloft of the horse barn. Just enough so your parents won't notice. The bare necessities. I'll pack it into my car little by little. And in a couple of days we'll be on our way at dawn. We'll drive to Hilltop and ask to be taken in. We can't avoid relocating in the long run anyway if we want to live together; after all, your father would never accept it," Carl summed up the problem.

"Jesus is scared of my dad, what if he doesn't have the guts to take us in?" you gloomily pointed out. "My dad would take that as a declaration of war. Winter is coming, we can't live on the roads, even more so now that I'm with child!“

"Then we'll try Oceanside," Carl didn't give up. Well Rachel and her people weren't exactly known for liking to take risks either. "And if Rachel won't help us too, well, there's still the Sanctuary," he said hesitantly.

Your eyes widened. "Seriously? You want to live in Negan's community?"

Carl hugged you tightly and held you as you were shaking with tension. Your muscles felt sore. "I'm willing to live anywhere and under any conditions, as long as I can just be with you, Y/N," he told you softly. "And Negan may be a sociopathic asshole, but he certainly won't be daunted by your father. Besides, he has a soft spot for me for whatever reason. If I ask him to take us both in, he won't refuse me. It's not my dream to become one of Negan's people, but if that's the only way we can live together, then I'll gladly pay that price. I just want to keep you and our baby safe."

For days you were preparing your escape, and finally it was time. Carl's car was stowed with all the necessary things, and you planned the last details. "Tomorrow morning, before sunrise, we'll leave," Carl decided. You had met behind the church, and he kept glancing around nervously. "They probably won't notice we're missing until about afternoon, so way too late."

"Okay. You head out through the gate, and I'll climb over the fence and walk to the road," you reasoned, even though you didn't know how you were going to transport the box with Garfield in it over the fence. You would probably have to use a rope.

"No. There's no way you're going to climb in your condition," Carl said firmly. That was also the reason you hadn't gone to Joyland in some time. "Meet me at the garages, and you hide in the trunk," he determined. "No one will check my car. They'll just let me through at the gate; I'll say I'm going to find some medicine, we have a shortage as you know."

That evening, you arranged the clothes you were going to wear and hid Garfield's transport box in your closet. Leaving the cat behind was out of the question, so you made sure Garfield stayed in your room. You would have to sneak out of the house quietly, with Garfield and your backpack. And thus you would leave nothing and no one behind that or who meant something to you.

But unfortunately everything turned out differently. Suddenly, as you were about to go to bed, having just brushed your teeth, your father stood in the doorway; his silhouette filled the doorframe threateningly. "What's wrong, Dad?" you asked in a squeaky voice, your heart pounding.

He came closer, towering in front of you. "Your mother empties the trash cans in the bathrooms," he said in a casual tone, but you could hear the suppressed anger in it. "She told me you hadn't bled in quite a while now. There were no pads, no tampons in your trash can."

Your mind raced. "I only use tampons now, and I threw them all in the toilet. Sorry, Dad, I know that can clog the pipe. It won't happen again." Your heart was hammering more and more wildly, your mouth dry with fear.

He eyed you with suspicion. "Then I'm sure you won't mind taking a pregnancy test." He held one out to you. You sucked in a sharp breath. Your mother had appeared and was avoiding your gaze.

"All right," you agreed, and headed for the bathroom. You hoped that if you soaked it in water, the test would be negative. Or at least it would be invalid, and then your father wouldn't know if you were pregnant or not.

"I have several of these tests," he said then. "And your mom is going to accompany you to the bathroom, Y/N. Just to be safe." Your father's voice was low and angry.

Seeking help, you glanced at your mom. There was only one option left: she had to pee on the test stick instead of you. You would beg her to save you, hoping that for once in her life she would make the right decision.

But your father seemed to anticipate the course of events. "I've changed my mind," he said, grabbing your wrist. "Come along." You stumbled after him into the kitchen, where he took a mug from the shelf and handed it to you before shoving you into the broom closet. "You will now pee in that cup and give it to me, and I will perform the test myself. Until you hand me the cup with your urine, I won't let you out again, and you won't get any food or drink either. Neither will Garfield get anything." He smiled coldly before locking up behind you. The broom closet had no window, and there was nothing in it except the vacuum cleaner, buckets, some rags, mops and brooms. Now you really had no chance, there was no way out, so you might as well give up now. Weeping, you pulled down your pajama pants and panties, held the cup between your legs and peed into it.

Tags: @loveforcarl @knochentrocken0808

#the walking dead #twd #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes #carl fanfiction #carl grimes imagines #how to save a cat

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