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#doctor strange x wife
liminal-zone · 9 months
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SCREAM. IT IS SO PERFECT. JAMES T KIRK IS HER DEAD WIFE.
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lokidokieokie · 1 year
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I'm Here, Whenever You're Ready.
Request from Wattpad: You have a very stressful day at work, and come home to your husband *cough* Stephen *cough*. He asks what is wrong, but you tend to handle things on your own and solve your own problems since your autopilot is to do things yourself, and assure him its fine. basically he just pampers you and stuff. Really fluffy<3
Pairing: Stephen Strange x Wife!Reader
Warning(s): Kinda self-deprecating reader, worried!Stephen, caring!Stephen, fluff (lots of it), kinda comfort-fic-ish, consumption of alcohol, descriptions of toxic work environments
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If there was one thing you thoroughly enjoyed about the clock hitting 5pm, it was definitely the fact that you could finally leave the workplace that had been spawned from hell itself. 
Today, your workplace and fellow employees had decided to be Thanos-sized pains in the ass and graciously blame every single problem in existence on you, and you only. 
When the coffee machine decided to short-circuit all the electrical appliances in the kitchen because Lauren had somehow managed to spill water all over the electrical sockets: “Y/n! That’s coming out of your paycheck!”
When David from Marketing didn’t get his figures in on time because he would rather ogle Maxine’s breasts than get this month’s profit and loss statement done: “Y/n! Get your act together and get me those figures, NOW! I expected better from you.”
And then there was the one thing that truly iced the cake. For a couple months now, Abigail (the bane of your existence) had been pushing the majority of her workload onto you, while she just sat at her desk and tried to look sexy for your boss, Nolan. 
Normally, it irritated you but you put up with it. You just wanted to get out by 5 without any fuss. But today, you had had enough. She had piled on four different accounts that all had five sub-accounts each. You could not get any of that done by 5. 
So, you did what any over-worked and super-stressed out employee would do. You went to your boss. 
“Nolan, there’s an issue I need to address with you.”
“What is it, Y/n? I’m incredibly busy.” You internally rolled your eyes; yeah, ‘busy’ sitting here and betting on the next horse race probably.
You explained the situation with Abigail and her workload and eventually made it to today’s problem. “They all need to be finalised by 5 and I cannot get that done on-time on my own, especially with all of the work I already have to do. Could you ask her to do her own work for once?” 
He shifted his head and stared at you with a look that screamed irritation on his face. 
“Are you really that useless that you can’t get four simple accounts in order? In the next four hours nonetheless? God, you're pathetic. Get those four accounts done by 3 or you’re fired.”
You stared at him, jaw agape and eyes wide open. 
“W-what? Nolan? That isn’t possible. Each of those has five sub-accounts eac-”
“I don’t care. Get it done and get out!” 
You quickly slipped out the door and got to work, ensuring that you glared at Abigail the entire trip back to your desk. 
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That was how you ended up seated in front of the Rotunda of Gateways, staring into the abyss with a glass of Prosecco in your hand; over-analysing every single mistake you had made in those accounts in the rush to get them done. 
Bringing the glass to your lips, you took another gulp of the sweet liquid and internally screamed. Why did your workplace have to be so toxic? Why couldn’t you work at some little business that was run by a sweet old woman who didn’t take advantage of you?
You were so caught up in your internal warfare that you didn’t hear Stephen come into the room. So when you felt his hands on your shoulder, you jumped and spilled wine all over your blouse. 
“Sorry, Darling. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
You took a deep breath, “It’s fine, Stephen. Don’t worry about it.”
He made his way around you, crouched down and began to rub your upper arms. 
“Are you alright, Sweetheart? You don’t seem like yourself.” 
“I’m fine.”
You attempted to smile, but of course, Stephen saw right through it. Standing up, he grabbed your hand and began walking towards your bedroom. 
“Stephen, what are you-”
“Be quiet, Love. Just go along with it.”
With a flick of his fingers, water began streaming out of the tap into the bathtub; the water being the perfect temperature for the both of you to get in. Settled against Stephen’s chest, you slowly felt the stress begin to ebb away as you took in his heavenly scent. 
His hands made their way to your shoulders and began kneading your tense muscles. He continued his ministrations, every so often bringing his lips to your shoulder or cheek; reaffirming his love for you with every lowly whispering of how much he adored you. Slowly, your eyes began to close, fully immersing yourself in the pampering that your husband was subjecting you to. 
When the water turned cold and your fingers began to prune, Stephen helped you out of the bath, dried you off with a little bit of magic, and helped you into your red silk pyjamas. Scooping you up in his arms, he carried you to the bed and continued reassuring you of how wonderful you were, and how you were the epitome of perfection in his eyes. 
Laying you down on the mattress, you covered you with the blanket and tucked you in; giving you a lingering kiss to your temple. After cleaning up the bathroom, he made his way to the bed and laid himself next to you, draped his arms around your waist, and pulled you closer. 
“I know that something has happened, and I know that your default move is to try and cope with it on your own. But I need you to understand that it’s okay to rant about your problems to me. I’m your husband, it’s pretty much in my job description.”
You slightly chucked but shook your head. You were nowhere near ready to tell  him about or relive anything related to work day today. A stray tear slipped down your cheek at that thought. 
Pulling back slowly, he raised his hand and began to wipe your tears away, “But I also know how hard it is for you--as someone who bottles up all their emotions--to speak out about them.”
He paused and kissed your forehead, lingering there for a moment before continuing.
“But I just want you to know, that whenever you’re ready to talk about it, I’m here, and I’ll always be ready to be there for you.”
More tears slid down your cheeks as you snuggled back into his warm embrace. You knew that whenever you were ready, he would be there; and that made everything that little bit better. 
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A/N Look who’s finally getting herself together...ME! 
New content to come soon x
Taglist! @thewaithfuckingannoyme
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Wanda Maximoff x fem! Reader - Saving you from control
A/n: We're all slaves for Wanda lets be honest
*Vision does not exist within this universe! I don't know how age of ultron works than but we won't get into that!*
Summary: You're just living your life when the first splash of color comes into it, specifically a flash of red
Warnings: spicy (heavily making out), illusions to smut, manipulation, toxic, technically cheating, death, I think that's it? You have been warned!
The three P's:
[Pov: second person] [Pairings: romantic/main! Wanda Maximoff x reader kinda romantic! nameless male character x reader parental! billy and tommy x reader] [Pronouns used: you/your but the reader is meant to be a girl]
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Your life seems to be dominated with blacks and whites, there's no color to reveal just a black and white wall of memories. Even you have to admit life is boring, you get up call whatever family member you're supposed to be calling, go to work in your tiny office job, and come back home to your boyfriend. Your boyfriend, who's also awfully boring, you want to think you love him, but you don't really think making up lies will give life to your boring life.
You won't break up with him though, he's safe, and your family loves him. Plus your family seems to be always on edge around you, you can't seem to figure out why though. It's like that piece of information was stripped from you.
It's also tied into the feeling that you were meant for something more, but alas there would be no world saving in your books.
Your in bed with your boyfriend when you see it for the first time.
It's nothing really, just a flash of red from behind you, but all the same you knew that flash's of red don't just happen out of no where. You shift your body more upwards to see if you could see anything.
Nothing there's nothing, of course it's nothing, it must have just been a trick of the light. Your eyes messing with you, or your brain having too much imagination. So you just go back to bed and take your sleeping boyfriend hand in yours and try to take comfort from it.
It happens twice more before something else happens.
After it happened twice more you were a bit paranoid, and on your way to the eye doctor to see if there was anything wrong with your eyesight.
You go to check your mirror and instead of cars you see a woman with red-orange hair with something that looks like devil horns placed as a crown on her forehead.
She was smiling at you.
Your car weavers to the right, you can hear cars honking in the distance, and CRASH! Echoes, as your ears ring and your car somersaults across the highway.
The next thing you know you're waking up in the hospital with that same woman beside you.
Gasping you grip onto the sheets and try to move, but a red mist keeps you down covering everything but your head.
"What the- Where's the doctor!"
She smiles down at you and laces her hand with your own and you can't help the feeling it gives you. It's different from when your boyfriend takes your hand, when he does you feel a small sort of happiness. When this random woman takes your hand the accelerating feeling you get is overwhelming from just a touch.
"Don't you worry your little head treasure, the doctor was just trying his best but I decided it would be better if I took over."
You looked down at yourself and saw no injuries nor did you feel any. Considering you got into a pretty nasty car accident you should be casted up to the brim, yet you weren't. Someone would call you crazy for thinking this but you're pretty sure the person crouching beside you, saved you.
(Your mind doesn't seem to remember very well how she might have just be the cause of the accident in the first place.)
"What's your name?" You manage to say as you gaze upon her beautiful figure.
Laughing she takes her other hand and places it under your cheek like a lover would. "Missy, I'm surprised you didn't recognize me! That's okay precious, they did insist on wiping your mind. It isn't your fault."
A new part of you is unlocked and her words must have triggered something because a flow of memories come back to you and tears surface to your eyes as you start to remember.
S.W.O.R.D had taken you from Wanda, they had said they were saving you, saving you from giving up complete control. Funny how the irony comes back at them considering they didn't give you a choice in the matter.
You remember your powers, similar to Wanda's but nearly the exact opposite of hers. While she had chaos magic, you had order magic, meaning you could place order back into things and see the future.
That's another thing S.W.O.R.D had taken from you.
Then you remember further, with all the little things with Wanda, to all the big things with her. That you had children with her (through both of your magic of course) and how they took you away from them. The things that balanced you and Wanda so well, chaos and order. Now that you had them back though...
"Wanda." You croak tears adorning your face and the red mist dissipates as a dark calming cyan covers the floor.
Standing up she pulls you into her as you sob into her chest.
"Oh, my princess how I've missed you."
"I- I didn't know that they were going to wipe my memories of you. And- and our children. When I started to realize they weren't doing what they told me they were doing I started to panic and I was so scared." You cry.
"Shh," You rubs your back as you shake in her arms. "Everything is alright now treasure, we're together again and no one is taking you away from me ever again."
You don't have the time to analyze her words further with your powers before her lips connect with yours and your mind explodes.
Wanda kisses you hungrily, like you're her last meal and you eagerly reciprocate the sentiment. As she bites on your bottom lip, it surprises you slightly as you feel like you haven't kissed her in centuries so you've forgotten how chaotic she can be. Nothing like your past boyfriend, who when he kissed you was bland and colorless.
Your mouth opens and you let her take dominance, she nearly always did in the past, it's just the way Wanda is.
Pinning you against the bed with her own body her lips start traveling down further and you feel her hand go underneath as they two go further down.
"Did he kiss you like this?" She mutters against your throat.
You blink and her civilian clothes from before are gone and come has the scarlet witch. The deviled horned crown embellished on her head.
You've transformed too though, a suit covers your body much like Wanda's but it has more blue and green under tones. There's a white diamond arched upon your chest and it has a purple point in the center with eight lines different shades of blue, and green.
You don't answer her you just let your head fall back as a halo falls around your head.
________________
Stephen Strange doesn't expect to see you when Wanda finally has America at Wundagore, he thought your memory had been wiped. However you stood in front of him furious, and your mind fully intact.
The cyan magic enveloped America, you shouldn't have been doing this. You were order, you can see the truth if you wanted, if you saw it he's sure you would have been helping him.
So why haven't you?
"You can stop this Y/n!" He calls out to you voice strained. "Look for the truth with you're powers! You'll see that this is all wrong!"
Slowly you're head turns to face him and your eyes glow an unnatural dark teal.
"I already have."
Strange is astonished and terrified. The outcome in his brain that you already had looked into the truth didn't serve him. He didn't think it was possible, Wong even said it was impossible.
Improbable, it was improbable not impossible. Oh god, he's such a fool.
"The only thing that conflicted." You go on as you lift a hand on Miss America's face, stroking it like a mother would a child as Wanda's power envelopes him too.
"Is her."
You tilt your head and a flash of red goes through your eyes and suddenly Chavez is getting prepared for Wanda and the two of you trade off and you block Strange from getting to Wanda and Chavez and from seeing what's going to happen.
"This is you're endgame? You help Wanda and she gets the children? She'll throw you away the moment she gets them!"
Giggling you turn around and behind you is Wanda looking more powerful than ever with America Chavez's dead body behind her.
She pulls you in for a passionate kiss as her left hand flicks to make the portal to the other universe.
"We made our children together." You growl to Stephen right before the portal opens.
He had really underestimated how much the two of you love each other, and would do anything for one another. Everyone did.
Now they would have to pay the price.
Wanda is the one that goes in for the children, you know you'll have to go in later to save her from her own fate but you know that she still has to experience it first. She just needs to think she got over it on her own.
The children throw things at her and she snaps at them and as the next Wanda comes in she something to her and for a second Wanda looks like she's going to stop everything.
Then her eyes flash cyan and she kills the other (weak) Wanda and force the children in her arms into their rightful universe.
With the two of you.
They scream and cry but you crouch down to face them and you gently take both of them into your arms.
"Let's put some order into your minds shall we?" You whisper into their ears.
A dark teal mist covers their eyes and then in another second it's gone and they look up to you and abruptly hug you.
"Ma!" They cry.
You nod Wanda over (as she's now the one who has a hold of the sorcerer.)
Standing up you turn your boys around and when they see Wanda they yell out for their mom and cry into her neck.
Facing Strange you get close and place a hand next to his head.
"You know what I saw was the biggest threat to this universe was?"
You lean in so your lips are right next to the cuff of his ear.
"You."
Instead of saying anything else your hand next to his head begins to move as magic exhumes from it pulling his sorcery into you. Eventually the light fades from his eyes and his body falls to the ground.
Wanda may of been playing the long game with you - manipulating you and making your truth vision weak but so were you. You saw a threat to the universe long ago and back then you didn't want to believe it so you ignored it. Then Wanda came along and showed you something different, Wanda may have been weaken you and manipulated you but you also weakened and manipulated her.
Together though, together to the two of you are strongest thing in the universe.
So you turn back to your happy family, and pull Wanda into a kiss.
Words 1866
-thedelusionreaderbitch
Marvel taglist: No one yet
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prettywitchiusaka · 5 months
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Something wrong, my love? What!? Oh!…Oh, nothing! Carry on.
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Clea Giggles
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ohello0 · 4 months
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People who hate cops putting blind faith in doctors….
“A doctor has never done anything awful to me…”
Feels very familiar
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luminnara · 1 month
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Traditions | Feyd-Rautha x Reader
REQUEST: As Feyd-Rautha's wife-to-be, you have moved to the Harkonnen homeworld to await your wedding. You're doing your best to adhere to their customs, but when a supposed doctor examines your 'purity,' Feyd-Rautha's reaction is anything but calm.
MASTERLIST
Requests are open! This was one of the first I received for Feyd-Rautha, I hope you enjoy!
WARNINGS: SA in a medical setting (not graphic but also more than just implied), canon typical violence (also not graphic)
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Harkonnen customs were strange.
Harkonnens were strange.
Everything about Giedi Prime felt alien to you—its black sun, bathing the world in infrared; its barren landscape, polluted and abused by years of unbridled industry; and, perhaps most of all, its nobility, the Baron and his his nephew, Feyd-Rautha.
“A Harkonnen?” You had choked out when your parents informed had you of the decision. You had been in disbelief, as if reality had come to slap you in the face. All you had ever known was your homeworld and the comforts of the family palace, on a planet that was lush and beautiful. Everything you had ever heard of the Harkonnen homeworld was the opposite—harsh and inhospitable, its people even more so. You had resisted the information initially, refusing to believe that your life was changing so suddenly and so dramatically.
But, ever the dutiful daughter, you stood and met the na-Baron when he arrived, openly staring at his appearance while another Harkonnen introduced him. Feyd-Rautha was extremely pale, his skin nearly white, and, like the rest of the delegation from Giedi Prime, he was hairless. He did not even have eyebrows, and as your father welcomed him to your world, you wondered if he was truly hairless, everywhere.
As your thoughts wandered, the na-Baron’s eyes slid to you, meeting yours. You suddenly felt as though you had been caught doing something naughty, the way he looked at you, drinking you in, tilting his head slightly as he appraised you.
“Is the na-Baron pleased with what he sees?” You spoke up in a moment of bravery.
His eyes raked over your body and he smirked, making a rough sound you assumed might be a laugh.
“Oh yes, princess.” His voice was just as harsh as you’d expected. “Very.”
Feyd-Rautha spent a week on your planet, courting you in the ways of your House. He presented you with gifts of refined spice and Harkonnen riches, knives and strangely austere jewelry. He walked with you in the evenings, where you spoke of mundane things, unsure of what you were meant to do in his presence exactly, and he watched you like a hawk hunting a field mouse. When the week was up, you accompanied him back to Giedi Prime to prepare for the wedding, leaving your homeworld behind.
Feyd-Rautha was less well behaved when not surrounded by the members of another House. He was an unsettling, panther-like man, always on the hunt for something to kill…and when you arrived on his planet, you saw that he sometimes killed without abandon, fighting drugged prisoners in a public arena to satisfy his own ego.
You were not sure that you wanted him as your husband—he seemed somewhat disinterested in you, leaving you to the guest chambers you would eventually be moving out of in favor for his bed. Your first week on Giedi Prime was another of courtship, though this time in the ways of his people, and you were honored to witness his fighting prowess in that arena beneath that strange sun. You dined with him and his uncle the Baron Vladimir, a large and unpleasant man, one you could tell your husband-to-be felt no real love towards. Feyd-Rautha simply enjoyed that he would one day take the Baron’s place, and when Vladimir commented on your figure one evening, you saw the way Feyd’s jaw tensed. Perhaps he did want you as his wife, after all.
Another strange Harkonnen custom revealed itself to you toward the end of that week, when a doctor entered your chambers and informed you that your purity was to be inspected.
“My apologies, but…what?” You asked, confused. You had never heard of such a thing. Surely he couldn’t possibly mean what you thought he meant…?
“We must ensure that none other than the na-Baron have had you, milady.” The man explained. You noticed he sported a gray sash around his middle, and you assumed it was some sort of uniform. “It must be guaranteed that you are untouched, and that the heir you provide will be the na-Baron’s and no one else’s.”
You felt your face grow warm with anger and embarrassment. “Is my word not enough?”
“I’m afraid this is tradition, milady.” He stared at you with intense, beady eyes. “The na-Baron was eager to honor the customs of your House. You do not want him to think you are refusing those of House Harkonnen, do you?”
No, you did not. The last thing you wanted was to anger Feyd-Rautha and potentially drive your future husband even further away from you. You did not want to seem rude, nor did you want to cause a fuss…and you had been examined by doctors before, though perhaps not for this exact reason. You could withstand a few moments of awkward discomfort, you reasoned, if it meant avoiding an unhappy marriage.
“You do not have any instruments,” you noted.
The doctor smiled, revealing the black teeth of the Harkonnens. “Medical instruments are not necessary for this, milady. Please, move to the bed so that I may examine you.”
You rose from your place at the simple table in the center of the room, abandoning your half-eaten breakfast. As you turned, you felt the doctor’s eyes watching you a chill prickled the back of your neck. You needed to relax, you told yourself; if you were expected to produce an heir, there would be many more invasive check ups far stranger than this. You had seen your mother pregnant with your younger siblings, and had heard her speaking with the midwives and Bene Gesserit woman who stalked the halls of the palace back home. Perhaps this was how you could ease yourself into all of that.
When you turned to face the doctor once more, you were relieved to see him standing just as you had left him. His smile unsettled you, but then so did most Harkonnen features, you realized as you sat on the edge of the bed.
“Lay back and relax, milady.” He said, approaching you. “This won’t take but a moment.”
-0-
To your surprise, Feyd-Rautha joined you for lunch that day. A servant had been sent ahead to inform you that the na-Baron would be arriving to your chambers shortly, but when he did, you insisted on eating elsewhere. The encounter with the doctor had done more than simply unsettle you—it had rattled your nerves, leaving you feeling angry and confused. Though the man was long gone, you had no desire to remain in that room any longer than you absolutely had to, and lunch could not come early enough.
The na-Baron led you to his own chambers and food was served for you there, at a well-sized table just as austere as the rest of the building’s furniture and decor. He watched as you picked at your food, pushing it around on your plate but hardly eating any, and he took the opportunity to attempt conversation.
“We will be wed soon,” he said.
You wanted to roll your eyes. You were in no mood for small talk, but remembered who exactly you were dealing with and stifled a sigh. “Yes, na-Baron, we will.”
He smirked. “I look forward to the consummation, milady.”
You felt bile rising in your throat. The thought of anyone touching you again at the moment made you sick and angry, and you hated him for his people’s customs.
Feyd-Rautha tilted his head as he looked at you. “Do you not?”
“I am sure it will be everything we hope for and more,” you grumbled, looking down at your plate.
“It is unavoidable,” he growled. “We must produce an heir.”
“And we will!” You snapped, glaring up at him. “And you will be happy to hear that your doctor’s examination went as expected, my lord.”
The venom in your words stunned him almost as much as the words themselves. If Feyd weren’t so busy working through what exactly you had just said, he may have been tempted to bend you over that table just to show you how hard you made him, wedding night be damned…but there were other matters at hand now.
“Doctor?” He asked, eye twitching as his brow furrowed in thought.
“Yes, the one who confirmed that I am, in fact, pure,” you spat, voice laced with pure malice now.
You saw what could only be anger bubbling inside of him as he straightened his shoulders. “How exactly was this achieved?”
“By—by the usual means, I presume,” you said, quickly growing afraid of Feyd-Rautha’s infamous temper should it make an appearance. “He…confirmed that I am…that I have never…”
The na-Baron stood suddenly, knocking in the table in his haste. “Describe him to me.”
“I-I don’t know, he was a doctor!” You stammered. “He looked like every other Harkonnen, I don’t know—“
“What did he wear?”
“A-all black, like everyone here…a sash, a gray sash, around his waist, and he had no instruments—“
“What?” Feyd-Rautha roared, fists slamming down onto the table.
You jumped at the sudden outburst, staring in confusion as he stood. "I apologize if I've upset you, I don't understand why you--"
"Come." he hissed, grabbing your arm roughly and hauling you out of your seat.
You shrieked in surprise, stumbling to keep up as he dragged you out of the room and down the corridor. "Na-Baron, what is the meaning of this?!"
You received no answer. Feyd-Rautha was too angry to speak, shoulders hunched and full of violent tension as he stomped down the halls. Servants and Harkonnen nobles alike scattered upon seeing him, and as you twisted your head to look back at them, you saw them whispering and looking after you with pity on their faces.
"Feyd-Rautha, this is absurd!" you protested.
He came to a halt in front of a door. Though the wait for it to slide open only took a few moments, it felt like agony, and you had nowhere to look aside from the na-Baron's heaving form. You had never seen a person so angry before, so utterly enraged that he was practically incoherent. His silence was frightening, as when the door finally opened, you felt relieved...until he grabbed you once more and brought you inside with him.
The room was full of Harkonnen men, and as they looked to the door in surprise, you realized that you had entered some sort of lounge. You recognized their uniforms as military, and at the sight of their na-Baron, they all immediately stood, saluting him and bowing their heads.
"Which one?" Feyd-Rautha hissed, pulling you to stand at his side.
"What?" you asked, still confused by this entire operation.
"Which man?" he asked, voice strained as if he were holding himself back.
As you looked around at the Harkonnens, whose faces were stoic but whose eyes were frightened, you realized what your almost-husband was asking of you. It was difficult to tell them apart--their pale faces blended into one, their uniforms all nearly identical save for subtle distinctions of rank. Then, an idea; the gray sash you remembered, surely the doctor still wore it? If he were there in the room with you, perhaps you could--
Yes.
There he was.
You recognized his face and your lips pressed into a thin line. Feyd-Rautha, whose eyes had been glued to you, watching your every tiny, minute move, noticed the way your eyes lingered. His lip curled into a sneer as he turned to look at the man, whose comrades had all immediately stepped away, leaving him alone and exposed.
"Captain." the na-Baron's voice was dangerous. It was terrifying. You had never heard another human make a sound so guttural, so animalistic, and yet still manage to form it into a recognizable word.
As the man took a panicked step backwards, Feyd-Rautha stalked toward him. Your future husband smoothly pulled a long knife from a hilt on someone's hip as he passed them by, and you could only stare as the captain was brutalized.
You had never seen such agony.
When Feyd-Rautha was finished with him and the room had finally quieted after the screams died out, he stood from the fresh corpse and turned to you, holding a weapon now dripping with dark blood as he faced you.
"For you," he said simply, sincerely, bowing his head yet never breaking eye contact.
You stared. You had no idea how to react upon witnessing such a barbaric act, one that was sure to play out in your nightmares for weeks to come. When you felt panic rising in your chest you forced it down, and mustered all of the courage you possibly could to say, "Thank you, my lord," and bow your head in return.
He seemed satisfied with this as the knife clattered to the floor and he strode forward to you. "Let us leave."
You agreed wholeheartedly, following him and leaving the other soldiers to collect the pieces of their captain, now strewn across the lounge. Feyd-Rautha held your arm once more as he led you down the corridor, though this time, he was far more gentle. Something had been released from within him, his bloodlust sated and his anger quelled for the moment, and as the reality of what you had just witnessed him do crashed down around you, you stumbled to a halt and doubled over.
"Milady?" he asked, confused, before he turned to see you holding a hand over your mouth as you desperately tried not to be sick. His hands gripped your elbows as he faced you, undeterred by your retching. "What is this? He is dead, there is nothing to--"
"You killed him!" you choked out as you gasped for air, the bile in your throat still threatening to come up.
"Yes," he said, head tilted as he looked at you. "Of course I did. For you, as a gift." Then he paused, thinking. "...Was there another? An assistant?"
"No!" you managed to swallow down the last of the bile, throat burning as you grasped your sweat-slick forehead with your palm. "No, there was only him, but--why would you do such a thing?"
Now he was truly bewildered. "Why wouldn't I kill the animal whose hands touched you before mine?"
"Because...I..." you huffed, glaring at him. "What is going on? What is all of this, over a custom of your people? I did not enjoy his examination by any means, but I am doing everything in my power to accept the customs of House Harkonnen with grace and dignity no matter how awful they are and this entire spectacle has now made that very difficult, na-Baron!"
"House Harkonnen does not practice such a thing," he sneered, eyes angry once more.
Your shoulders dropped in horror. "...Excuse me?"
"That man should never have been within a thousand lengths of you."
"...Oh..." the panic had returned, but now, it felt much worse, and your voice sounded impossibly small. You lowered your hand to your lips, chewing your nail in agitation.
"Do you understand?" Feyd-Rautha asked, still holding your elbows.
"...Yes, I'm afraid I do..."
He leaned in, his forehead meeting yours as he still stared at your eyes. You found his to be a deep, dark blue, an abyss that threatened to swallow you up. But right now, you wouldn't mind such a thing, if it meant you could hide away from the world forever.
"No one will every lay a hand on you." he growled. "No one but me."
"...You killed him for me," you whispered.
"I did."
"You avenged me...yet you did not proclaim your reason in front of those other men?"
"I do not need a reason to take a life," he barked a laugh.
You just nodded.
"And I would not humiliate my wife in such a manner." he straightened once more, letting go of your elbows and offering you his arm once more.
"Thank you," you said as you took it and began walking.
"It does not matter to me if you another man has had you before." he said, staring forward. "I know the children you will bear will be mine."
He said it with an arrogance that may have annoyed you had the situation been different. Now, it was a comfort that he had such a big ego.
"That is correct, na-Baron," you said, sighing in relief. At least the whole ordeal was over now, and you doubted anyone would be foolish enough to cross your path now that one man had already been publicly eviscerated.
"Call me Feyd."
"Thank you," you glanced up at him with a small smile. "Thank you, Feyd."
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luvvyouforever · 27 days
Text
my girlfriend (wife) is a witch - sdv harvey x reader
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-> in which our beloved small town doctor falls in love with the new resident who just so happens to own a black cat, offer tarot readings in her farmhouse, and loves nothing more than a full moon.
-> not an accurate depiction of witches, just something fun, short, and sweet, harvey's a cutie patootie!
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"so, this card seems to be say that your business is gonna take off, which is strange considering your only available pool of patients is about thirty people who all already have yearly appointments booked."
harvey let out a deep chuckle, one that came from the pit of his stomach and traveled up through his chest. to the left of him was a stack of tarot card decks, with crystals stacked on top of those. to his right was an steadily flowing stick of incense that surrounded the backyard patio in a soft haze of lavender.
"maybe the citizens of zuzu will start making their way out here just to see lil' ole me," he said. his fingers toyed with the edge of one of the cards displayed on the table.
you shrugged your shoulders and began to shuffle your deck again, searching for another card. "you never know! the cards once said that lewis and marnie were secretly together and look what happened there! you can't doubt 'em."
harvey chuckled again then, remembering the moment you had bursted into the farmhouse, screaming about finding lewis's purple shorts in marnie's bedroom, all but confirming your suspicions that had been growing for seasons.
he was never much of a believer in anything but the real, practical world. as a doctor, he never allowed himself to indulge in the supernatural or superstitious. going under a ladder is bad luck? not for dr. harvey. however, the moment he fell in love with you, he let himself get absorbed into the world of daily tarot pulls, of drying flowers, of black cats, of full moons, of everything you loved.
snap! snap! "hellooo, earth to harv, please!" your voice snapped him out of his reverie and he noticed two new cards on the table.
"what do those say, dear?" he asked sweetly.
"well, this one says you should give in to spontaneity sometime today and this one is telling me that we should consider forgiving someone's faults," you said, admiring the foil art of the card.
"hmm...maybe i can spontaneously forgive george for verbally accosting me when i recommended that he lower his sodium intake," harvey suggested with a fake thoughtful fist on his chin.
"i think he'd be more open to drinking the elixirs and syrups i make in the basement before eating a salad, hon," you said with a laugh.
after the last pull, you slowly collected every card into a neat pile and tucked them back into their original packaging. harvey admired your handiwork as you placed your crystals back into a wooden box gifted to you by robin. with a smile, you looked up at your husband, only to find him staring at you with love-filled eyes.
you asked, "what are you looking at, huh?"
harvey shrugged his shoulders but made no move to turn his gaze away. "can i not look at my sweet, hard-working wife?"
with a playful roll to your eyes, you stood from the chair and planted a kiss on harvey's head. "speaking of hardworking, i have some strawberries that need harvesting! would you like to come help, my sweet, caring husband?"
harvey gladly stood and followed you through the backyard, into the house full of plants and charms hanging from the ceiling and walls, and out to the porch. at his heels was your black cat, meowing relentlessly for attention. on the porch, he slid on his gardening gloves and sun hat (sun protection is very important, he'd always say, and he always forced you into a straw hat at least).
perhaps his form of spontaneous forgiveness was forgiving himself for not admitting to his feelings earlier, for stressing so hard about finding someone to love, for not knowing sooner that this was always where he was meant to be, tarot cards and black cats and all.
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bwabys-scenarios · 11 months
Note
Hello!! I love your hantengu x Wifey! Reader, I been giggling and kicking my feet while reading this fluff, But i have a questions of this story, like.. how did the clones and reader got married? How did they met? What makes them fall for reader (or how reader fall for them? :D
How the hantengu clones found their wife
Warnings: slightly suggestive
PART 1
PART 2
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It was the dead of winter, and (Name) had been taking care of her parents cabin the best she could. The young woman lived by herself ever since her parents had passed away from sickness. Although she tolerated the cold and loneliness to protect her childhood home, she often felt lonely in the large cabin.
After gathering all the firewood she could carry, she placed the damp logs and twigs next to the already roaring fire to dry. She heaved an older log into the flames, then turned away to work on dinner.
(Name) hosted a pot onto her stove to prepare a meal for herself when she heard a cry from outside. She froze in her spot, clutching her shirt in fright. The anguish in the voice caused her heart to throb.
“H-help! Please!”
(Name) had always had a heart of gold. In her youth shed rescue wildlife and go into town to help the elderly with tasks. Now she was a woman, and knew better than to go outside into the night when she heard someone call for help. It could be a trap.
This didn’t stop her from throwing on her thickest coat and snow shoes, though. She slid her door open, then closed it behind her. In her knife she held a kitchen knife, and in the other a lantern.
“H-hello?” She called into the darkness, holding her coat closed over her chest. The knife was now differ behinds the thick folds of her coat, though the feeling of its cold blade against her skin did little to comfort her.
She approached the woods, where the sound had been coming from. When she finally reached her destination, she gasped and quickly dropped her knife to kneel down next to a figure in the snow.
The figure belonged to an older man, who’s appearance was obviously strange. He gasped out when she reached out to touch him, covering his face and crying.
“You- you’re with them aren’t you? Don’t hurt me!”
(Name)’s gaze softened and she kneeled down in the snow, slowly reaching down to cup his cheek. “Sir, I’m not here to hurt you. I’m not with anyone, promise.”
He whimpered, lightly leaning into her soft feminine touch. She smiled and helped him up, before realizing he wouldn’t be able to walk.
“Oh, sorry, I’ll carry you.”
The man was surprisingly light. She feared he may be an abused elder, something that was on a rise in her community. Sometimes the sleepy would wander the forest and beg to not be sent back home, but unfortunately that’s all she could usually do. Harboring a missing person could land her in jail, and she certainly did not want that!
“You’re too kind… so kind.”
(Name) could feel his tears run down her neck as he cried. She tried her best to ignore the feeling of his tears slowly turning to ice against her skin.
Once they were inside, she helped the gentleman into bed. It was dark inside her home now, and though she had candlelight and could certainly tell he looked strange, this wasn’t going to stop her from caring for him.
“Sir, can you tell me what happened? Did someone hurt you?”
(Name) squeezed out some excess water from a rag and laid it on his forehead. He was surprisingly warm, his breathing shallow.
“I was poisoned…”
“What?! Oh dear I’ll need to fetch a doctor right-“
The man grabbed her wrist as she turned to leave with surprising force. He released her before she could process his overwhelming strength.
“No doctors. This will go away on its own… just need rest.”
(Name) nodded slowly, sitting down next to him. As the night went on, he requested she tightly close the blinds, stating sunlight would worsen the poison. She didn’t know a poison that would react to sunlight, nevertheless she did as she was told.
“Sir, are you hungry? I was just about to cook dinner.”
The man pondered her words for a moment, before nodding. “Yes. Thank you.”
She grinned, pushing the hair out of his face.
“One last thing. What’s your name?”
He sighed, content to have such a kind woman watching over him. “Hantengu.”
—————
(Name) busied herself in the kitchen, putting together a simple beef stew. It would have enough nutrients for someone sick and be quick enough to feed the two before going to bed.
When she finished she slowly hand fed her guest, cleaning his face after. He thanked her after he finished and grasped her hand.
“You have such beautiful hands, (Name). You would make a wonderful wife, you know?”
(Name)’s face heated up and she laughed, waving her hand. “No, no, I’m not good enough to be someone’s wife. I’m just a simple woman.”
Hantengu didn’t reply, only squeezing her hand lightly, before falling asleep. (Name) slipped her hand from his grasp and tiptoed away.
She undressed, hanging up her winter kimono and slipping on a nightgown. She looked at herself in the mirror, sighed, then tucked herself into bed.
———————
‘Mmm… warm…’
(Name) snuggled into something warm, the feeling enveloping her. The cold of the winter was far from her mind, the only thing she could think of was…
‘Wait… why do I feel hands on my waist?’
(Name)’s eyes shot open, and try as she might she couldn’t get up. She looked around her surroundings to try and see what was holding her down, only for shock to take over.
Laying on either side of her were extremely muscular men. They had a strange demonic look to them, with horns sprouting from their heads, one of them even having wings!!
“You’re finally awake, (Name)~”
The one behind her nuzzled into her neck, gently nipping at weak spots. She gasped, reaching her hands back to gently push him away. Her action did nothing, pushing the man felt like pushing a metal statue. His yellow eyes watched her in amusement.
“Aww, look, she’s so confused!”
She quickly turned to face the man in front of her who lied on his side to stare at her. He smirked, tilting her chin up to take a better look at her face.
“Sekido was right, she is perfect.”
(Name) blinked, watching the man in front of her lean in closer. She slammed her eyes shut, only to have the feeling of his tongue sliding down her cheek.
“Tastes so sweet. Urogi, tell the others she’s awake.”
Once Urogi left the room, the other man pulled her into his lap. He bounced her up and down on his leg, pulling at her nightgown.
“H-hey! Stop that!” She pulled the hem of her nightgown away, her cheeks flushed. He only chuckled, moving his hands from her night up to her waist.
“So soft and warm. Humans always are so soft and smell so good, but you smell the best. Mmm…”
He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling deeply. (Name) couldn’t help but whimper at the man’s close proximity. She’d lived a quiet life with her parents, and now some creature was fondling her in her childhood home. Her parents would be so disappointed!
She tried to pretend to dislike the attention she was getting, but couldn’t ignore her fluttering heart. No one had ever treated her like a woman before, and he certainly was.
(Name) jumped when the door opened, nearly falling and hitting her head. Before she could think someone was catching her in their arms.
(Name) looked up to see a demon with the prettiest blue eyes she’d ever seen. He watched her with hesitation, holding her up just long enough to stand in her feet. She didn’t even notice she was leaning into his touch, her only indication was the rumbling of his chest when he spoke.
“(Name), we’ve been waiting for you. Sekido needs to speak with you.”
He spoke as if you had known each other for years, guiding you with his large clawed hands ever so gently to the living room.
Sat on your father’s favorite chair was a man with red eyes, his aura was intimidating. (Name) shrunk away, clinging into the blue eyed man’s side. He pat her head reassuringly.
“Sekido, you may want to try and look less frightening. Humans are fragile beings, and she is a woman.” He was calm, the feeling of (Name) clinging to his side filling his chest with pride. Sekido frowned, but tried his best to remain calm.
(Name) turned and looked at Sekido with her big (e/c) eyes, causing the man to smirk.
“Perfect. Come here, woman.”
When she didn’t move, he turned his gaze to the man. “Aizetsu, bring her.”
Aizetsu obliged, walking forward. “Karaku, bring the ring.”
Sekido pulled the woman into his lap, resting his hand on her stomach. She shivered as his breath tickled her neck.
Karaku walked into the room, holding a purple pouch in his clawed hand. He approached (Name) keeping his eyes locked on hers. She tried, but couldn’t look away from his glowing green orbs.
Karaku plopped the bag into her awaiting hands, giving her a kiss on her forehead before he backed away.
She stared down at the cloth bag, wondering why she had been given it. Sekido’s already short patience wore thin and he yelled at her to open it.
“O-ok!”
She opened the bag, wiggling around in his lap to untangle the cord. He grunted, holding her hips still. She tried to ignore the feeling of something poking her but as she finally got the bag open.
(Name) turned it upside down and shook it lightly. The feeling of cold metal hitting her palm was enough to tell her it had fallen out.
“It’s… a ring.”
(Name) gazed down at the silver ring, a simple crystal in the middle. It was the only jewelry she’d ever held, and she was immediately captivated by it.
“Yes. I heard human women like to be proposed to with rings.” Sekido smirked, his chest swelling with pride. She turned to look at him, a faint blush on her cheeks.
“Propose? You want to marry… me?”
All the men in the room voiced their approval, gathering around her. Sekido, stood, holding her in his arms with ease.
“You can think this over, but it’s made up in our minds. You are ours, but according to human customs we will give you time to think things over.”
She didn’t think he understood what thinking things over meant.
——————
Having a bunch of men crowd in her house was a lot less scary than (Name) thought it would be.
Aizetsu helped her clean, Urogi helped her cook, Karaku gathered firewood, and Sekido did repairs on she couldn’t.
Along with their helpful actions, the men had been behaving… strangely. She’d already figured out they weren’t human from their appearances and lack of human knowledge, but she thought that’s where their differences ended.
Not true.
Urogi had recently started bringing her… gifts. Sometimes, it was shiny things he’d found on his flights, and other times it was freshly killed animals and bags of gore. She tried not to think of where that came from.
Karaku had taken to purring at her to get her attention, which usually worked because she found it cute. This quickly turned into biting and growling when she didn’t respond quickly enough.
Sekido watched her. Constantly. At first this was reassuring. He’d follow her at night and make sure she was safe, and sometimes even carry her where she wanted to go. Recently he tried following her everywhere, this included to the bathroom and into her room when she was changing.
Aizetsu was the most tame, only wishing to be with her as much as possible. This only bothered her in the mornings when she couldn’t escape his iron grip to go pee.
She’d had about enough of this strange behavior, so she called all the boys to gather in her living room.
“Okay, why are you four acting so strange? Sorry to say but humans don’t like being followed, growled at, given bags with questionable contents, and being held for too long!”
She let out a huff and crossed her arms, her foot tapping away at the floor. The four exchanged looks, seeming confused.
“(Name), this is common demon courting etiquette”
She stopped, tilting her head. “Courting etiquette?”
“Yes, when a demon finds a suitable mate they court them with gifts, mark them, protect them, and spend time with them.”
(Name) nodded. “That makes sense. So how do I get y’all to stop your… courting?”
Sekido steps forward, offering her the ring. “All you have to do is accept our proposal.”
(Name) but her lip and weighed her options. On one hand, (Name) didn’t know if she was okay with the thought of marrying demons, but on the other hand… she’d grown to quite like the four over the past month. She didn’t know if she could go back to living alone, with no one to wake up beside her.
“I… I accept.”
The four let out a cheer, even Sekido seemed happier than usual. She was quickly surrounded, being kissed and nipped at from all angles.
“Now that you’ve accepted…”
Sekido reaches out a claw hand that traces down her side and lands at her hip. His eyes focus on her neck, and he leans down to inhale her scent.
“We can consummate this marriage.”
A/N: please leave a comment if you’d like a spicy~ part 2!
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ynscrazylife · 5 months
Text
THE BAT IN THE SHADOWS 🦇🕸️ — CHAPTER THREE
Summary: Bruce Wayne is the happiest he’s ever been in a while. He has a beautiful wife, amazing children, and is stopping crime left and right as Batman. All that shatters when you, his wife, mysteriously disappears.
Pairings: Bruce Wayne x Wife!Reader, Batfamily x Batman!Reader, Avengers x Reader (Platonic)
Series Masterlist
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It takes quite a lot to confuse Batman. Yet here he stood, reduced to speechlessness, as he stared at the odd group in front of him. The woman called herself Black Widow, said she was looking for his wife. Bruce thought he would’ve remembered if you mentioned anyone like this before.
“Then you’ve come to the right place. I’m also looking for her. How do you know Y/N?” Bruce asked, crossing his arms. They didn’t seem to be . . . Evil, but he had no clue who the hell they were or what you had to do with it and that was very annoying.
Black Widow glanced at her friends and another one of them, a man in bulky, flashy red armor, stepped up. “We used to be on a team together. Years ago. Until a mission went wrong and . . . She disappeared. I guess she landed here,” he said.
This did not help at all. In fact, it only made Bruce more confused. He was positive that you never mentioned working on a team before. “How long ago is ‘years ago’?” He asked next.
“About five now,” Black Widow answered.
Bruce felt like he was being slapped in the face. He had met you five years ago, when you were a rookie officer. You and he dated for two years, then married, and you were so skilled that you made detective within four years. Could this really be true?
“How can I trust you?” Bruce asked.
The group all looked at each other, seemingly coming to this conclusion that this masked man had a connection to you. Then, the archer pulled a paper out of his pocket and unfolded it, passing it to Bruce. He stared down at it, shocked to find that it was a photo. It was all these people, at some party, and . . . You. You were definitely younger, but it was clearly you, smiling and holding a drink.
Willing his hands not to shake, Bruce looked up at them. “I have a lot of questions,” he said bluntly.
“So do we,” the armored man said. “What do you mean that you’re also looking for her? Isn’t she here?”
Bruce took a deep breath, thankful that the mask covered his face, otherwise they’d see the tears pooling in his eyes. “She was abducted a few days ago,” he replied, forcing his voice to be steady.
“That explains the weird signal I detected,” another man said. He had a beard, a cape and looked like some sort of wizard.
Yeah, Bruce had a shit ton of questions.
//
It took some time for parties, the Avengers and Bruce, to get to really talking. They both had to give up information they’d rather not to learn more about the person they all cared about. The Avengers explained that you used to be on their team, until you went missing on a mission like they mentioned earlier. They said they scoured the world for you, until consulting with the wizard guy over here (who called himself Doctor Strange, Bruce didn’t comment on the weird name).
Doctor Strange said that he detected a signal not long after you had disappeared and, with his magic, found out what it meant: you were off-world. In a whole other universe. They’d been scouring the multiverse (which Bruce almost needed to sit down for a second after hearing), until finding a similar signal a few days ago which led them here.
So that meant . . . Both signals gave your last known location, told them that you had been taken. The first one was from the universe that the Avengers were from and the second was from this one, the one where Bruce made a life with you.
He was still utterly perplexed and didn’t completely trust them, but that picture . . . The timeline . . . It was tugging at something inside him. Bruce admitted that he had known you for these past five years, though he didn’t outright admit that you two were married. He was going to hold that fact close for as long as possible.
Finally, the Avengers led Bruce back to the point of origin, where they arrived in the forest. The masked man turned it all upside down, sadly not finding anything that could help.
But . . . He did have something they could help with.
“I don’t really want to do this,” he admitted, turning back around to face them. “But this is my only choice. My only clue to find Y/N. If I find that you’re messing with me . . .”
“We’re not,” a man, about Bruce’s height, looking like the American flag, said sternly.
Bruce sighed, forcing his shoulders to drop. “I have some footage to show you,” he said, really hoping that he wasn’t going for regret this.
//
As soon as the Avengers saw the footage of the store from earlier, Black Widow went pale.
“No, no, no . . . This . . . They’re inactive. This is impossible,” she said, gritting her teeth. Hawkeye placed a comforting hand on her shoulder as all eyes turned to her.
“What?” Bruce asked, his tone sharp and unforgiving.
“Play it again,” she snapped, leaning in close to the computer.
Bruce glared, but complied, restarting the video.
She took in a sharp breath, crossing her arms. “These people . . . Their uniforms, their behavior. It has the Red Room written all over them,” she said, as it dawned on the Avengers how serious this was.
“The Red Room? What the hell is that?” Bruce asked, his patience wearing thin.
591 notes · View notes
strawberrystepmom · 5 months
Text
izuku x f!reader. reader is referred to as wife, he is referred to as husband, reader has a defined and briefly mentioned career. wife guy deku compilation indeed.
Hey, have you seen this?
Your screen lights up with a text message from one of your closest friends, another message with a link to a video following quickly after and you tilt your head to the side at your desk reading the title of the video.
“Deku Wife Guy Compilation”
It makes you chuckle to see these terms stitched together, something that would probably not make much sense to your blissfully offline-as-he-can-be husband, but you understand what it means and press the link to open the video. It takes a moment to load and you jiggle your foot impatiently as it does, abandoning what you were last working on to focus as he comes onto the rectangle screen.
“My wife is the best,” filters through your phone speakers as clear as day and you smile despite yourself, the familiar butterflies you get every time you look at him blooming beneath your ribs.
“First of all, I want to thank my wife.”
“My wife is the true savior in our household, she’s a doctor…”
“My beautiful ____, my wife, my heart.”
“None of this would be possible without my wife so please give her a hand.”
It’s a three minute video stitching together every time he has mentioned you in victory speeches and press interviews and the like and it makes you wonder what people could be saying. You’re no stranger to running into the stray hater online yet you scroll down to the comments section, eyes widening when you see it filled with nothing but admiration for the strong foundation of love your marriage is built upon.
iluvchargebolt: man, i hope i’m loved like this someday :’)
momospantyliner: The way his eyes light up when he says her name at 0:48…beautiful.
Allmightisalright07: Reminds me of how i used to talk about my wife when she was still with us. They are certainly soulmates.
In comparison to other comment sections you’ve scanned in the past, this one makes you feel very warm in comparison and you feel the need to look away after being perceived by so many people who don’t even know you. Izuku’s love is so evident for you even strangers see it from a mile away, they can hear it in the soft way his tongue caresses your name like he’s kissing you every time he says it.
You put your phone down and turn back to your work, letting the video play over the speaker just to hear his voice when your screen lights up again and vibrates on top of your desk. Another text from the same friend, another link.
There are 10 of these omg
Another link pops up on your screen in a blue bubble, this time to a playlist containing videos in the same fashion as the first. Deku Wifeguy Compilation 1-10. Giggling to yourself, you press play and let the playlist run, each video growing in length with the shortest at 3 minutes and the longest at just over 10, your eyes widening realizing that he loves you so much there are videos worth of him simply stating it over and over and over again.
The same compulsion that led you to check the comments section on the first video takes over and you decide to pause the playlist and read, scanning the comments for anything you could potentially use as fodder to be angry about later.
shotopleasereturnmycalls: damn…i really am single.
Redriotsarmpithair9680: Love like this is rare. So glad our beacon of hope has a safe place to land after he’s done keeping us safe <3
You don’t dare to go any further lest you do see something you won’t like, keeping the video paused and locking your phone to set it aside and reflect. It’s strange to live a life so public and private all at once, hiding some parts and sharing the others, but you’re grateful the most consistent thing about Izuku is that he has never wanted to do anything but shine his light on you, to make you the spotlight of his world and everything about him.
Abruptly you pick your phone up and slide the screen upward, the messages app filling your screen. You click out of the thread with your friend and into the one with Izuku and you type out three simple words, the ones that you feel all day every day.
You: I love you.
Miles away, he looks down at his phone screen and snaps a quick picture of himself grinning, scrunching his nose, freckles barely visible thanks to the low light and bad angle but it’s all him - silly and sweet and sincere. He sends it off with the three simple words he feels about you in return, all day every day.
Izuku: I love you too, my perfect wife.
855 notes · View notes
hvaneyflowers · 5 months
Text
Family ********
Fernando Alonso x femreader! family!
Instagram au
Fernando and y/n have been married for 10 years, and for the last 9 years, y/n has been fighting against cancer. Because of this, they can't have children on their own, so they decided to adopt.
***************
yourusername
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liked by fernandoalo_oficial, y/bfn, and 400.890 more.
tagged: fernandoalo_oficial
yourusername: Celebrating 5 years without cancer! Couldn't be more grateful for being alive and for this amazing man who I call my husband! You're the best! Thanks for being there with me when times didn't seem to be well. Thanks for never letting my hand go, and being by my side in the hospital, sleeping on the floor while holding my hand! I love you so much!! ❤️
view all 400 comments.
y/bfn: MY WARRIOR!! Such a brave girl!! Love u!! ❤️❤️
yourusername: ❤️❤️❤️
username88: Happy for you!!
lance_stroll: Happy to meet you! You're such an amazing woman! Fernando is lucky to have you.
fernandoalo_oficial: Indeed, I am. yourusername: Thanks, Lance!! You're a incredible man! ❣️
fernandoalo_oficial: Mi nena hermosa, you're so brave, I love you so much!
yourusername: ❤️
username77: So gorgeous! Wishing you and Nando the best!
username99: Wishing you a happy life!
username222: I hope your dreams come true!!
yourusername: Soon, very soon! 🙏
fernandoalo_oficial
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liked by yourusername, f1, and 500.000 more.
tagged: yourusername
fernandoalo_oficial: Mi hermosa esposa, mi todo, mi amor, el amor de mi vida, te amo! (My beautiful wife, my all, my love, the love of my life, I love you!) You're the bravest woman I've ever known. I remember the day the doctor told us what the problem was, it's still vividly in my mind. I was scared of losing you, but I knew I couldn't give you up so easily. I will be by your side, no matter what! ❤️
view all 500 comments.
yourusername: love you so much, baby!! ❤️
f1: congrats yourusername for 5 years without cancer! Hoping to see you soon in the paddock!
username2: I want a husband like Fernando!
username65: I want Fernando as my husband! 😉
f1fans00: rookie of the year is the husband of the year!
carlossainz55: what a lucky man you are, Nando!
fernandoalo_oficial: very much. The luckiest man in the world!
sebastianvettel: my favorite couple! Miss you so much! You're the best @.yourusername❤️
jensonbutton: the only person who can bear @.fernandoalo_oficial!
fernandoalo_oficial: HAHAHA so funny 😒 yourusername: but it's true 😚 fernandoalo_oficial: 😒
username899: my fav couple! my fav wag! 🙌
username99: I wish the best for you!
yourusername
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liked by fernandoalo_oficial, carlossainz55, and 700.890 more.
tagged: fernandoalo_oficial
yourusername: Te amo España! | I love you Spain!
view all 300 comments.
username77: OMG! They're in Spain!
username99: Are they on vacation or something? I know they live in Switzerland. username11: me too! I thought they were in Miami because of the race! username77: the race it's next week. Maybe they took some days off! Strange but understandable.
carmenmmundt: Missing you in the paddock!! Please come back!
the_crochet_girl: same!!! See you in Miami!
username112: I love how the wags love each other! It's so beautiful!
username23: I know!!! They're the best!
username999: I love your style!! Come to Barcelona next time!
f1news
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liked by wagsoff1, f1fans, and 10.000 more.
tagged: fernandoalo_oficial, yourusername
f1news: Rumors say that Fernando and his wife, y/n, had adopted a little Spanish boy early this week. If it is true, congrats to the couple!
view all 100 comments.
username33: WHAT?!
username99: Are you telling me we'll see Nando as a real father?!
fernandoalonsofans: OMG! I need this to be true! They'd be the best parents in the world!
username55: I NEED THEM TO CONFIRM ASAP!!!
username66: Would his name be 'Fernandito'?
username77: Nandito Jr., the world champion!! I can see it!
username33: So happy for them!!!
username88: So that's why y/n said her dream would come true soon! HER BIGGEST DREAM WAS TO BE A MOTHER!!
yourusername
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liked by fernandoalo_oficial, f1, astonmartinf1, and 800.976 more.
tagged: fernandoalo_oficial
yourusername: All my life, I've wanted to be a mother. It was my biggest dream. When I married Fernando 10 years ago, the first thing I wanted to do was look for a baby Nandito, but unfortunately, I had cancer. I needed to give up my dream of having a baby on my own to live. All these years, I was so sad because I'd never become a mother, but now I am. Meet Matías Fernando Alonso y/ln, the new addition to our family! He's 4 years old (soon to be 5) and loves cars and animals! We're so happy about this incredible opportunity. Our dreams came true with his arrival! We are deeply in love with him and looking forward to the future! ❣️
view all 700 comments.
f1: Congrats! We know you'll be the best parents in the world! Welcome, little Matias, to the F1 family! See you in the paddock!
astonmartinf1: Welcome, Matias, to the F1 and Aston Martin family! Hoping to meet you soon!
username777: OMG! So it was true!! I CAN'T BELIEVE!!! SO CUTE!!
username999: Little Matias looks so cute! Congrats!
username8880: And he loves cars! Perfect son for Nando! Congratulations!
username0190: Rockie of the Year has become a father!! I'M IN HEAVEN!!
lance_stroll: Congratulations! He'll have the best parents in the world!
landonorris: FATHER IS A FATHER! OMG!
carmenmmundt: CONGRATS BEAUTY!! YOU'LL BE THE BEST MOM!!
the_crochet_girl: Congrats!!!! Bring him to the paddock so he can meet Sky and be friends!!
hulkhulkenberg: but no so close, please!
kellypiquet: CONGRATS!! SO HAPPY FOR YOU!! ❣️
fernandoalonsofans: AMAZING! SO HAPPY FOR YOU GUYS!!!
fernandoalo_oficial
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liked by f1, yourusername, lance_stroll, and 1M more.
tagged: yourusername
fernandoalo_oficial: Welcome home, Matias! We've been waiting for you for ages! I promised you to be the best father I can. I'll give you the world and all my love. You and your mother are the best things that happened to me! I love you more than you can imagine! Can't wait to teach you how to drive a kart and everything! ❤️
view all 2000 comments.
yourusername: you'll be the best father, mi amor! ❤️
fernandoalo_oficial: and you'll be the best mother in the world! Te amo nena! ❤️
landonorris: FATHER IS A FATHER! CAN'T BELIEVE IT! Is he going to prepare you coffee? Because I can teach him how to make your favorite one!
username18: Lando doesn't forget his time in McLaren when he used to prepare coffee for Nando hahaha! landonorris: never!
hulkhulkenberg: Congrats!! You'll be the best parents in the world!! pss. don't let him be so near to my baby girl, please! I don't know if I can survive that!
the_crochet_girl: cry.
username188: Congrats father!!!
fernandoalonsonfans: Congratulations to the best father in the world!!!
charles_leclerc: BRING HIM TO THE PADDOCK!! I'll have gifts for him!! He needs to meet his cousin Charlesito!
carlossainz55: He needs to meet all of us!!! danielricciardo: YES!!! He'll have the best cousins and uncles in the world! username817: OMG! The whole grid is going to be uncles and cousins to this little kid! I'm jealous! username890: Fernando and y/n, don't you want to adopt me? I know how to cook!
maxverstappen1: Congratulation!! Wishing the best for you!
lewishamilton: Congrats, mate!!! Roscoe wants to meet him!
yukitsunoda0511: congrats!! He's too cute!
username91991: My favorite couple are my favorite parents now! CONGRATS!!!
696 notes · View notes
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Remedy Epolouge
Pairing: Surgeon! Aemond Targaryen x fem! reader
Warning: mention of surgery, childbirth, fluff, Aemond's control issues
Summary: Even after a year of marriage, he was still a control freak.
Aemond got out of a 10-hour surgery, exhausted but happy with his work. The patient was stable and on their way to recovery.
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Remedy Masterlist
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He helped clean up the OR. A ritual he adopted in his resident years. It brought him peace. Like he was cleaning his mind. His phone dinged, indicating someone sent a text. During the operation, it had been unmuted. Everyone in the room knew that if his wife’s caller ID appeared on the screen, he would run to the maternity wing. But it did not happen. Which made Aemond’s anxiety increase. You were due any day now.
Ever since you reached the end of her pregnancy, he sat on pins and needles. He terrorised the nurse station daily to ask if the room he had booked for the arrival of his first kid was still available. They would nod, ensuring it was still free. Whenever the nurses of the maternity wing saw him coming their way, they just rolled their eyes. It became a habit to play rock, paper, and scissors for those who had to deal with him.
His overbearing nature got the best of him when you were over your estimated due date. He wanted to drive to the hospital and induce your labour. Talking gibberish while gathering your hospital bag and the car keys. It was the first and only time you ever slapped him. Hard. The look on his face was equal parts priceless but also heartbreaking. You loved him, you did. But he was overbearing and the constant worry got you out of the calm zone you had entered in your last pregnancy month. In plain words, you didn’t give a shit. If the baby needed more time, so be it. You were late to most of your things too. Your baby would inherit your tardiness to the annoyance of Aemond.
After finishing cleaning he walked out to the sight of a nurse who he had seen often. She stood right outside the operation room, smiling nervously at him. Shifting from one foot to the other. He didn’t need a psychology degree to know she was beyond nervous. „Hey, Aemond. First off, it was your wife. She told me to say you should not yell at me. It was her decision not to call. She is now in labour. Her contractions set in about an hour ago, but her water has not yet broken.“
His good eye seemed to pierce through the nurse. His anger simmering. They had a deal. She would call, and he would run. He took a deep breath in to get his anger to settle. Same breathing technique as the one you would use right now to reduce pain.
He nodded softly. „She is in the room?“ The nurse nodded. Aemond didn’t wait, he began to sprint through the hospital. Past numerous hospital staff and patients. Watching out not to crash into them. He didn’t care about any strange looks he got, his wife was in labour.
As he ran past the nurse station of the surgeon department he stopped for a short while. „Cancel all my other appointments, she is in labour.“
As fast as he came, as fast he was gone. The nurses looked after him, raising their brows and shrugging their shoulders. They had done that an hour ago. The operations were redirected to other surgeons and meetings were postponed. News spread fast in this hospital, especially the news of a doctor’s child being born.
Aemond crashed into the doorpost before he hastily made his way into the room. His breathing was ragged and his clothes were in disarray.
You were walking around the room, setting up your stuff while breathing like you learned in the baby classes. You held up the grey baby blanket with the bees embroidered on it. Smiling to yourself as you would hold your little one in it in a few hours. You felt like you smoked a joint as you walked around the room. But you didn’t take anything and the nurses hadn’t offered anything other than the question about an epidural, you declined.
Aemond walked in, sweat dripping down his face as he took you in. He could see who the laid-back parent would be, letting their kid eat dirt and who would be the helicopter parent.
„Are you alright?“ „How was the surgery? Everything went well?“ „Yes, the patient lives. How are you?“ He impatiently asked. His breath was short and ragged. His eyes were wide with panic.
You turned your gaze to him and smiled. „I am fine. The contractions are still half an hour apart. My next one should be in ten minutes. I stopped eating before you went to work. And I eat ice chips to stay hydrated. Is that all you need, doc?“ You smiled at him with an amused little smile.
Aemond rolled his eyes. You got so used to him going into doctor mode the last nine months. You knew what to say to each of his subtle questions. „Thank you, my darling.“ He whispered before kissing your forehead. „Baby in the right position?“ You nodded again. „They are. It feels like I have to pee constantly but it’s not the case.“
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Malaenys Targaryen was born at three past five in the afternoon. She weighed 2580 grams and was 45 centimetres. She came into the world with a shrill cry. Her limps kicked at the nurses until she was swaddled into her bee blanket and put into Aemond’s arms.
Aemond had never been more in love and at the same time so scared of his wife as when she gave birth. He had nearly delivered their daughter himself if you didn’t yank him back to your side and threatened to send him home instead of letting him stay overnight with them if he didn’t calm down already and let the doctors, who had a lot of experience in this field, do their job. You looked so calm when you threatened him. The threatening smile at the end slightly aroused him.
As you slept, Aemond sat on the bed sofa, holding his sweet little girl in his arms. Watching her eyes move behind her eyelids. Her pale silver eyelashes framed her little periwinkle eyes hidden by her lids. A tuft of silver-white hair covered her little head. Her chubby cheeks pressed into his chest as she lay on him.
He caressed her back softly. Her breathing was small. Sometimes little grunts left her lips. Aemond chuckled at how cute they sounded. The anxiety and panic he felt were gone.
He never knew he could fall in love so hard and fast as he fell for you and now your daughter. He will not be an easy father, he hoped Malaenys wouldn’t be a handful during puberty, and he knew he would be an absolute pain in the ass for every single teacher of his precious little girl. But he knew he had you at his side. He knew he could make a great father as long as you were around.
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the-orange-tabby-cat · 2 months
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Wednesday
joel miller x fem!reader
Summary of the fic: For the last 5 years, every Wednesday you watched a handsome man walk by your street with a lilac bouquet in hands. Except he doesn't stroll on your street this Wednesday, he shows up at your grief support group. 🐾
read on AO3 | masterlist | previous chapter Warnings: No outbreak AU, Grief and its implications, Reader lost her mom, Reader's mom has a name (but no physical description), Group therapy, Grief support group, Parent grief, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Fluff, No use of y/n Word count of the chapter: 3,7k
A/N: For the longest time I've thought "What if Joel lost Sarah anyway?" and this became the answer to this question. I have no clue about how big this series will be, but I do know I want to explore grief and loss with these two in the most delicate way possible. Hope you enjoy it 🐾
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I. LILAC
Coffee. Sketchbook. Balcony. Five years of waking up early on Wednesdays, grabbing a cup of coffee, and sitting near the railings to wait for him. Like a clock, at 8 am sharp he appears by the street corner with a lilac bouquet under his arm. 
His strong profile will be the only thing in your vision for a few minutes as he walks by. You drew it so many times that you could do it with your eyes closed. The man will walk by at a steady pace without looking around (brows deeply furrowed in a “don’t fuck with me” kind of sign), focused on his way down the street.
Tall, dark hair and a patchy beard with a square jaw… He is dreamy, but also out of reach. Where is he going? Why the lilacs? Are they for a woman, his wife maybe? Every Wednesday at 8 am, never a minute late, both he and you.
As you took a sip of your coffee, you glanced over the watch marking 7:58 am, he would be here any minute. You prepared the table in expectancy, what outfit would he be wearing today? You hoped for the green shirt, but the blue one wouldn’t be as bad.
7:59 am. His hair is a little overgrown now, but you like the way his curls frame his face. The broadness of his shoulders and how tall he looks next to the other pedestrians. You aren’t sure of the color of his eyes from afar, maybe green or brown.
8:01 am and no signal of him. This is a first. Maybe you mistook the day of the week, check your phone, and… No, Wednesday still. You squirm in your seat, impatiently looking for him. 8:07 am, he never got so late. Should you keep waiting? You don’t even know his name.
At 8:30 am you give up. A wave of melancholy fills the air. Oh god, be for fucking real, are you really sad because a strange man and his stupid lilacs didn’t walk down your street?
“Don’t forget: 9 am at the gate”, you reread your grandpa's text. 
You couldn’t be able to forget it, but deep down wish you could avoid it. Cemeteries aren’t your thing, the constant reminder of the death surrounding you. However, they are Grandpa’s way of dealing with it and who are you to judge?
The sketchbook is opened at the last page you drew, with the man staring in front of him fully angered. How did you end up with over 200+ drawings of a man you never met? The doctor said finding a hobby would help and so you did: drawing. “You see what no one else sees”, your mom used to say and you decided to take a test. Too bad your eyes landed on a strange man walking down the street, holding on tightly to a lilac bouquet. Even worse he had been doing the same path for five years right in front of your balcony.  The only things in your sketchbook are his face, his hands, and the bouquet. This is your third one since you kept running out of pages.
As you put the sketchbook away, your mind drifted away to your mother’s (possible) commentary. “Don’t be silly, he will come by later, I’m sure something happened” and she, most likely, would be right. She was always right. 8:50 am and with your chest tightened from “talking” to her inside your mind, your feet landed at the cemetery’s gate.
“No flowers? Really? Who raised you, pigs?”, your grandpa said narrowing his eyes at you.
He, of course, was an impeccable mess in his hat, black coat, thin-framed glasses that gave him a Bond villainesque look. In his rugged hands a white rose bouquet, carefully made and held by.
“If I remember right, and I do remember it, we are talking about the same woman who said that flowers are for the living, not the dead.” He rolled his eyes in response but in good fun. “Why the flowers then?”
“My biggest mistake was to raise a woman a little too avant-garde, wasn’t it? C’mon, we don’t have the whole day,” he deep sighed while showing you the way. 
You knew the path, but your feet seemed to avoid getting there, that’s why you followed Grandpa’s steps in the hope of not turning around and leave. It was a little ritualistic if you were honest: Grandpa would have some kind of gift in his hands that he would leave at the tombstone, and you would pretend to do not care as you deeply cared about it. She wasn’t there anymore, she hadn’t been for a long time.
Behind his glasses, you could see a lost man driven by grief. His hands shaking as he cleaned her name at the tombstone, the gaze avoiding yours. He would always wear black on cemetery days, as if the time never passed and it was the first visit yet.
“Want to go first?” He asked, you sighed in response. “Don’t know why I still ask.”
“It’s… Fine. You know she was a Buddhist, right? She believed in reincarnation. I feel a little silly talking to her,” you confessed while chewing the lip corners.
“Oh, trust me: I knew her the same amount as you, maybe even more. She was my daughter, for fuck’s sake.” Startled, you looked at him in shock at the rare occasion he would curse. Shit. “I’m not here because of her beliefs or lifestyle. Do you quote her inside your head? Because I do too, I too remember every small detail of her. I’m here because it’s how I tell myself she isn’t fully gone. So sorry if I’m too old-fashioned and feel like talking a few words at my daughter's tombstone with my grandaughter who, honestly? Could show a little more love towards her right now. I want to talk with her like we used to at the kitchen table on Sundays, I want to bring her flowers just like I did on her birthday and there is no Buddha, Allah, or a flying horse that can stop me. Now, can you open your fucking mouth and say something nice to your mom about your week?”
Silence took the space for a second before you simply replied with, “Better?”
“Yes, a lot. Thank you for asking, now go on, please.” He adjusted his hat and cleared his throat. You hummed, getting a little courage to look directly at the tombstone.
“Hum. I got a new couch last week, a velvety green one. A little too sexy, if I might, but you would probably say I need something sexy to attract someone even sexier. Am I rambling?” You asked, raising your eyes from the stone, but he made a motion for you to continue it. “Let me think, oh, the cat hunted a pigeon. It was somewhat disgusting because of the amount of feathers in my apartment…”
“Did the pigeon survive?” He asked, in his eyes with a slight curiosity.
“Yes, but by a thread. It was her cat, a little savage just like her!”
The conversation went on easily after it. Grandpa had found some old notebooks of your mom, including one with a cake recipe he would later send to you. You wouldn’t tell him, it did feel better not because you were speaking to her, but because you could watch him relax in his uptight perpetual state. In the blink of an eye, your mind wandered to the strange man and if he ever relaxed like that.
Grief is a strange thing. It took a little encouragement from your therapist and the need to move on, but you had started to go to weekly meetings of a grief support group at the local church (the only thing that made you enter that space). The first months were awkward, you went but avoided it at the same time. Slowly, it grew on you. Five years of not missing a single Wednesday, even on vacation.
Your grandpa tried once, but it just wasn’t for him. He didn’t want to move on or find a meaning for it, he needed to feel his grief as second skin. You needed it to stop suffocating you, to scream and shout about that weight in the hope of someone taking it from your back.
This Wednesday wasn’t any different. You entered the church's back door with some cookies in hand, even if you were well aware that most people couldn’t eat as they exposed their pain, it was more of a sweet gesture than a necessity. The white walls and the cross in front of you completed the scenario.
“Cookies? You never eat anything,” Henry questioned while taking a bite. His dark eyes staring suspiciously at you.
“My grandpa found an old cookie recipe from my mom. How does it taste?” You replied as you watched him bite. You couldn’t bear to try it first, too anxious about it.
“Your mom was definitely a writer, not a chef. Taste like an old sock.” His face contorted as he spat out the cookie. Well, you tried something new.
“Yeah, no wonder I survived out of Lucky Charms and BTLs.” Henry laughed as you let go of your shoulder’s tension a bit.
The grief support group had grown and shrunk over the years. Sometimes people would feel good enough to leave the support, those were the lucky ones: grief was a period of their life, not an everyday thing. In other cases, they would get too depressed and leave before making some actual change in their being. You, unfortunately, were addicted to bond with the pain part of it.
Well, you and them. Henry was the first you met, totally wrecked after losing his little brother, Sam, to leukemia. He almost left college due to the weight of grief but kept it together, you even went to his graduation a few years back. 
Tess came later. First, her kid died and then, in a stroke of bad luck, she found out she had a terminal disease that would, eventually, kill her. She wasn’t there to deal with the death of others, but her own. She was slowly dying and it was scary as shit. Not that you would know it from the outside, she had more strength (both physically and mentally) than most.
Frank was the group leader, conducting the discussion and creating the safe spaces. Everything you had said while hugging him, no matter how bad, never came back to hunt you. Which was odd on its own, but even odder considering his grumpy husband, Bill, was the exact opposite. Everything you did said in Bill’s direction came back to hunt you right after it came out of your mouth.
People come and go, but you stay there. Grabbing your regular place at the circle, putting the name tag on your shirt, and drinking some water just in case you cry. Except today you have someone new seated across you.
His strong nose and patchy beard hint someone you do know. His square jaw tensed up, brows deeply furrowed in a “don’t talk to me, I want to go home” that you could draw with eyes closed. The name tag reads “Joel”. You were right, his eyes are brown.
It feels weird to look at him without a pen and paper in hand, but it feels just right to see his features up close. Tess brings him coffee - black, you noticed - and gives him an eye silently saying “Don’t fuck it up”.
The meeting starts, Frank asks who is there for the first time. Joel and a woman, Hannah, raise their hands.
“It’s tradition to introduce ourselves at our first meeting. You don’t need to tell the details of why you are here or who you are, just simple information that people can distinguish you from the rest of the group.” Frank explains to a tired Joel, who sighs in response while Hannah overshares who she is.
Of course he doesn’t want to be there. Nobody wants to. You wish you could leave every time you cross the door, but know that the moment the meeting starts to develop you will want to continue in that deep state of pouring your heart out.
“I’m Joel, my friend Tess convinced me to come. That’s it.” He simply states, loud and straight. You catch Frank laughing.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to push you a little on it. Why did you accept to come here?” Joel furrows even deeper at the provocation.
“I didn’t. She trapped me.” Tess raises her very blonde eyebrows at him, who snaps. “You did trap me. Call me saying it was an emergency, I go to your house expecting the worst and you lock me inside there until the time to come here after I said I wouldn’t go to a grief support group.”
“See? He is an asshole, he needs this.” She answers Frank, making sure he gets her points. Your mom was right, something had happened to him.
“So, Joel, why are you here still?” Frank subtly asks.
“I beg your pardon?” Joel’s eyes are softer now, getting caught off guard. He doesn’t have any argument for it.
“Yes Joel, why are you still here? I’m not trapping you in this char, nobody is holding you down.” Tess retorts her mouth in his direction, that scoffs and looks around the room. When his eyes look into yours, you smile coyly unable to retain yourself.
“Sir, please continue.” Accepting defeat, Joel crosses his arms around his chest, fully ignoring Tess's triumphant smile.
“You are free to leave at any point, no need to tell us why. But I guarantee that if you stay, you might learn we aren’t that bad.” Frank nods in his direction, gaining a hard sigh. “Let’s start. Before every meeting, we say out loud the names of those who have gone to allow ourselves to think about them without shame, remorse, or guilt. You know the drill, Henry?”
“Sam,” Henry says firmly.
“Abigail,” you speak loudly.
Another silly little gesture, but you do allow yourself to think about her after it. Every single time. It’s almost as if the weight of her, the one that you carry around all day and pretend isn’t there suffocating you, comes to sit by you, not on you. 
“Teresa,” Tess points at her.
“Sarah,” Joel almost murmurs looking at the ground. His hands are fidgeting, his mind in another place. 
You have been there, you know how strange it is to say it for the first time out loud after a while, sounds forbidden and partly awkward. You aren’t supposed to say it to strangers, it’s sacred just for you, and yet, here you are saying it to whoever wants to share this pain with you.
You wonder if Sarah liked lilac flowers.
Some people speak about how they dealt with grief during the week until Frank asks you how the cemetery visit went. The group knows that meeting your grandpa there gives you a chill up the spine.
“I think I forget that he is allowed to grieve as he needs. I know all these little parts of her, how she lived her life. I’m quick to fight because she isn’t here to defend herself. I’m not even sure she would like for me to defend the memory of who she is… Sorry, was. Of who she was.” You swallow dryly, trying to ignore the miswording. “He bought her flowers. She always said that flowers were for the living, not the dead, and yet, he bought her a bouquet. I got frustrated, felt like he was trying to put her in a box of who he wanted her to be.
“He put me in my place quickly, even said fuck.” Henry makes some noise in surprise, you nod agreeing. “Exactly, it dawned on me: the flowers are for him, not for her. Just like his grief and how he needs to express it is only for himself, not for me to judge. I think he misses her more than he tells me. If I could go back in time, I would have implored him to cremate her and stop this nonsense of going to her grave, checking her tombstone, giving her damn flowers.”
“Maybe the flowers are his way of saying out loud that he cares too. She was his daughter before being your mother.” Joel speaks out loud, getting your full attention. His arms are still crossed, but now his eyes are lost in thought, almost as if he didn’t want you to hear it.
“Maybe. I just wish he allowed himself to stop pretending she is still here. I want to think of her without feeling guilty that she isn’t. He is too busy missing her to notice that I’m missing him.” You answer locking eyes with Joel, who chews the corners of his mouth, once again deep in thought.
“Maybe he doesn’t know how to do it, need help.” His voice soft, just like his eyes.
“Maybe.” You give in, feeling that Joel isn’t speaking about your grandpa. You swallow as you remember the lilacs.
The meeting runs smoothly. The group finishes by drinking coffee before parting ways. Frank is chatting by the corner with Joel, who is running a hand by the nape of his neck. Curiosity gets the best of you and, before you can stop, you question Tess.
“Who is Sarah?”
“A million-dollar question, huh?” She teases as she sips her sugary coffee. Henry looks between you two, waiting for a response. “You both haven’t heard from me, I’ll deny til death that I’ve ever said it. His daughter, she died a few years back. He hasn’t been the same since. That motherfucker goes to her grave every fucking Wednesday.”
“He visits her every Wednesday?” The number of drawings of Joel walking down your street early in the morning with a lilac bouquet makes more sense. His face, his fast speed, how he ignored everyone that walked by, how he never noticed you at your balcony.
“Yes, she died on a Wednesday, he relives that event every week since.”
Frank walks in your direction, Joel right behind him looking everywhere, except your face. If he only knew how much you have looked at his face before.
“I recall you haven’t been a mentor yet, right?” Frank starts and you nod, curious about where he is going. “Amazing! You’ll have your first newbie. Joel, you’re in good hands.”
He leaves before you can say anything, whether yes or no. Fuck. Joel is confused as well, still looking like he would rather leave. You open your mouth and go grab your phone.
“Sooooo… How was your first meeting?” Flipping through your phone until find your own number isn’t a good move to show that you are smart, trustful and worthy but right now you only want to avoid his brown eyes.
“Pass.” You blink at him. “I won’t keep chit-chatting. Cut to the chase.”
“Oh damn, I thought you had softened a little with time.” He fights the urge to roll his eyes and you smirk at him, reading him like a book. “I’ll give you my number in case you need someone to talk to. And yes, you can call me anytime you want to. And no, I won’t get your number. You come to me or I won’t come to you.”
That entertains him a little. It was the first rule of your mentor, she made sure you would look for her and not the other way so you could understand when and what triggered you. Joel just nods as he saves your contact.
“When did you first contact your mentor?” He questions, sounding genuine in his curiosity.
“Diet Coke, couldn’t drink.” The furrowed brows are back, so you continue. “My mom would mostly only drink Diet Coke, after she passed away I would buy canes just to open and hear the sizzling. Couldn’t drink otherwise would vomit from stress. It was really hot and I craved one, made that call and drank it.”
“And you drank the whole thing?” His soft eyes are back and you feel a little foolish for thinking that he could have green eyes, not when the dark brown suits him so much.
“Yes and vomited right away. Still, it was worth the shot.” You smile and for a fraction of time, he smiles too.
He doesn’t call right after and neither shows up at the grief support group. You still draw him, but from memory, the last time you watched as he strolled your street it was three months ago. Something about his grief seems too personal and you feel awkward invading that space, instead, every Wednesday at 8 am you find another thing to do. It isn’t as easy as it sounds, ignoring his handsome profile and the lilacs on his hands, but you allow his privacy. 
The only reminder of your favorite habit is the sketchbook at the table and the fresh lilacs decorating your balcony.
Time goes by slowly and too fast, the weight of your mom still at your back as the life surrounding you goes on its course. You almost forget about him until a Wednesday morning, 8 am sharp, your phone chimes and you pick up at the first beep.
“I can’t eat pancakes. I hate pancakes, but she loved it.” He softly says and you stop everything to listen.
“You made from scratch or store-bought?” You phrased it like it is an important question. He hums back on the phone.
“Store-bought, don’t know how to make the batch. She straight up bought only the mix.”
“Would you eat with her, despite not liking it?” Your hand slides the paper, creating his silhouette line after line.
“Yes.” He simply answered, as if it was the most common question in the world.
“What are you waiting for? Take a bite.” 
And he does. The chewing sound from the other side fills the phone, your hand keeps drawing him in his overgrown hair, almost as if you could see the scene right before your eyes.
“So, was it worthed?” You ask looking at the draw as he finishes his plate.
“Still taste disgusting.” He soft replies after a second, you snort and he laughs. The sound is the most delicious thing you’ve ever heard. next chapter
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queenshelby · 5 months
Text
An Illicit Affair
Part One: My Boyfriend's Father
Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)
Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity
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It was 15 months ago when you first met the man who, unbeknownst to you, would eventually become the center of your disastrous life and that man was not your current boyfriend Maximilian Murphy, a twenty-two-year-old Irishman from Dublin.
You had been going out with Max for about a year when you met the man who changed everything for you and, whilst Max was almost an entire year younger than you, you had both met at London's top medical school after he had transferred from Trinity College. 
Max was energetic, confident and intelligent. He was popular with the girls and, although you were drawn to him because of his sense of humor and easygoing nature, it was quite obvious to you that he was much less serious about life in general than you were. 
After a year of non-serious dating, Max eventually told you that he was taking you to Dublin for his father's 46th birthday and it was then when you first laid eyes on him. Cillian Murphy, your boyfriend's father. 
The name "Cillian Murphy" didn't ring any bells for you at the time as you had never seen any of his films, but now, 15 months later, you knew everything that there was to know about him due to the publicity his movie Oppenheimer had received in recent weeks. 
You went to see the movie too with some friends and whilst you had broken up with Max about a year earlier, you happened to recall the weekend you shared with him and his family in Dublin. 
Both Cillian and his wife Danielle made you feel welcome when you arrived with their son Max late on a Friday afternoon at their large Victorian townhouse near the coast, just outside Dublin.
The house was decorated with tasteful modern furniture and a collection of modern art hung on the walls. The living room featured large windows overlooking the sea with heavy curtains blocking the view when needed.
You spent most of Saturday relaxing by the pool with Max, swimming and sunbathing before enjoying a dinner prepared by Danielle for her husband's birthday.
As you sat down at the table, Cillian seemed distracted, and it wasn't until the second glass of wine that he asked you more about yourself and your aspirations.
"So, what do you want to specialize in?" he asked and you looked down at your plate and replied softly, "I haven't decided yet. I think I might enjoy working in pediatrics."
"Working with children can be emotionally demanding," Cillian said, "but I am sure it's  incredibly rewarding," he then went on to say before acknowledging that Max had told him that you were at the top of your class. 
"It sounds like you have a bright future ahead of you," he told you and your heart fluttered a bit as you heard his voice, deep and resonant, filled with warmth and confidence. It was a contrast to Max's playful teasing, something about which made you feel comfortable and safe.
Danielle, Cillian's wife, chimed in with a question for you, "What got you interested in medicine in the first place?" she asked. You paused for a moment, considering how best to explain such a complex answer.
"Well, my dad was a doctor, so healthcare was a part of our household growing up," you began thoughtfully. "But the real turning point came during high school when I visited a friend who was hospitalized with leukemia. Her doctors and nurses took such great care of her, and it really opened my eyes to the impact that medicine could have on people's lives."
Cillian nodded along, seemingly genuinely interested in your response.
"That's amazing," he murmured. "You are genuinely empathetic and that's a good trait to have, especially as a doctor," he went on to say with a smile and you couldn't help but blush slightly under his intense gaze. His piercing blue eyes seemed to look right through you, making you feel vulnerable in a way you hadn't felt before. But instead of feeling uncomfortable, you found yourself strangely drawn to him. There was something magnetic about him, something that made you want to spend more time with him despite the fact that he was twice your age.
The day after his birthday party, while you were lounging around the poolside, you couldn't help but notice Cillian looking at you intently from across the lawn. His eyes held a mysterious glint, a curiosity that seemed to grow stronger every minute.
As if sensing your presence, he approached you and started a friendly conversation. The topics ranged from movies to books, and even personal interests. It was a pleasant surprise finding out that both of you shared a love for Jazz before Max pointed out to you that Jazz music was for "old people", causing Cillian to laugh.
The sound of Cillian's laughter was soothing and comforting.
You felt butterflies in your stomach as adrenaline surged through your veins. You tried to compose yourself, focusing on the casual exchange of small talk, hoping to distract yourself from the strong attraction you felt towards your own boyfriend's father.
But no matter how hard you tried, those enchanting blue eyes kept drawing you back in. The subtle smell of his cologne lingered in the air, filling your senses with a mix of excitement and shame.
Luckily for you however, on Sunday morning, Max and you travelled back to London, leaving behind the memory of the lingering gaze that Cillian gave you as you boarded the plane while, in hindsight, you realized that Cillian's gaze did leave something behind - a seed planted between the lines of your otherwise innocent encounter.
In the months that followed, you found yourself thinking about Cillian more often than you expected and, unfortunately for Max, at the same time as fantasizing about his father, you became more and more annoyed by his immaturities. 
And then, one evening, after another argument between you and Max over whether you should go clubbing or stay in and study, you finally snapped.
"This isn't working out anymore, Max," you told it him straight. "We need different things in life and we would be better off breaking up now rather than prolonging something that won't work long term," you told Max, sitting on the bed of his dorm room, causing his chin to drop.
"You don't mean it," he said, sounding shocked.
"Yes, I do," you said firmly as you looked away from him, knowing that he wouldn't understand why you couldn't go on like this.
"No, please, give me another chance. We can make this work," Max pleaded, moving closer to you, reaching out to touch your arm.
"No, Max, I've made up my mind," you said firmly, avoiding his pleading eyes.
You knew that it was only a matter of time before Max would come to terms with the truth, but you also knew that the process would be painful for both of you.
Max moved closer, grasping your hand gently. "Maybe we just need to communicate better," he suggested, his eyes full of hope. "I love you, you know. I am happy to try anything," he continued but you shook your head.
You pulled your hand away, fighting back tears. "I just... I can't anymore, Max," you whispered quietly. "We tried to make it work several times, but our expectations are quite different. I am taking university serious, but you are not. You have different interests and I think that you would be better of with someone else," you confessed, averting your gaze.
"But... but, what about the future? What about us?" Max stammered, desperation seeping into his tone. You remained silent, allowing the silence to hang heavily between you two. Finally, you took a deep breath.
"I don't want to lose you, Y/N," Max pleaded, his voice quivering. "We have been together for a year, surely we can find a way to make it work. I promise."
You shook your head sadly, unable to meet his desperate gaze.
"We are both still young and year is nothing if you are in your early twenties. I'm sorry, Max," you managed to whisper, swallowing the lump in your throat. "I think it's best if we end things here."
He let out a choked sob, his face crumpling. "Please," he implored, clutching onto your wrist. "Don't leave me like this."
But you couldn't stand it any longer, pulling your arm free. "I need space, Max," you said sharply, rising to your feet.
"I need to focus on myself and my studies right now," you told him while, deep down inside, you knew that something was missing, something was holding you back from fully committing to your relationship.
And it wasn't long before fate intervened as, just over year after your breakup with Max, you ran into Cillian again at a jazz concert in London...
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honeybeedrabble · 1 month
Text
Casanova (Cheating!Sasuke x AFAB!Reader) - iii
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CW: MINIMAL EDITING !!! mean!sasuke x AFAB!reader, reader pregnancy, homewrecker!reader, deadbeat dad activities, cheating, piv (unprotected), creampie, spitting/spit play, oral (f receiving) degradation (loser, whore), zero after care, breeder!sasuke, generally scummy behavior, lmk if i missed anything. short chapter lol
18+ MDNI !!!!!!!!!!
Sasuke knew he hated himself, like seriously- hated himself. He hated himself because everytime he came home he was reminded that he destroyed the family he loved so much just because he wanted to fuck you. Sure, the first time was an accident, if anything he helped you the first time! At least that’s what he told himself to be able to sleep at night. But the second time? The second time was pure lust, nothing but dirty lust that had taken over him and made him want to fuck you.
What didn’t help was how he heard people talk about you. How they would gossip about how nice your newly found motherhood was, and how it was sweet you’d decided to have your own little family. He hated that whenever people would ask who the father was you’d dodge the question, a flustered blush overwhelming your face as you clutched your chest.
But probably what Sasuke hated most of all was how the days went by and your belly got bigger, he got hard at just the sight of you. Your skin was always glowing, your breasts bigger, and of course your stomach bigger. He would think about how hot it was that he had gotten you pregnant, showing off how you were his, regardless as to how nobody knew it. In fact, the ignorance of how it was him got him unbelievably horny.
Whenever he would fuck his wife, he would put a hand flat on her stomach, feel the way his cock would bulge underneath, and imagine it was you while caressing where your child would’ve been. Sakura had no idea of course, she was just happy to get dicked down after a strange dry spell. Sasuke silently refused to fuck her, out of shame and pity mostly, but after getting hot and bothered by just the sight of you for weeks mixed with the feeling of sexual frustration he had to let himself go.
After the deed was done, his post but clarity kicked in like no tomorrow.
What am I going to do? How fucked am I?
He thought as he looked to his side and watched as his wife would catch her breath, post orgasm. He shook his head, pulling the covers up to his chest to cover himself up. Sakura rolled over, putting a hand to his covered chest.
“We haven’t done that in quite a while, huh?” she softly laughed, still breathing in and out.
“Yeah,” he smiled, looking away quickly. Sakura furrowed her brow.
“Are you okay?” She asked, sitting up and closer to him.
“Um, yeah… why?”
“It’s just… you’ve been so distant lately, and that’s saying something.” She nudged him and Sasuke made a halfhearted laugh. “You’ve been like this for weeks… if I didn’t know any better I’d assume something…” Sasuke tensed up.
“Assume what?” He bit back, jaw clenched. Sakura was taken aback.
“All I’m saying is ever since that genjutsu user got away you’ve been acting strange. You don’t feel bad about her getting away, do you?” Sakura asked, tone softer.
“She didn’t get away…” Sasuke muttered.
“Huh?”
“Oh, um… Her. Yeah, that’s what it is.” Sasuke replied, rolling over and facing away from Sakura. She giggled.
“Oh Sasuke, you’ve always been so hard on yourself.”
“For good reason…” He sighed, once again the feelings of shame and guilt returned.
“There you go again. Why don’t we just change the subject, hmm?” Sakura asked. Sasuke wanted to vomit when she said your name.
“W-what about her?” he felt the bile building up in his throat.
“Well you know how she’s pregnant right?”
“Yes, yes, of course I know she’s pregnant! What about her?”
“Well she’s coming into the hospital tomorrow for an ultrasound! When I found out I just knew I had to be her doctor so I’m going to be giving her her screening!” Sakura chirped happily.
Without a word Sasuke got out of bed, not facing her the whole time.
“Sorry, I just realized I have to go to the bathroom,” he said, walking out the door.
“Oh okay, we’ll can you bring me a glass of water when you come back?” Sakura called as he was already walking down the hall.
“Yup.” He responded. He locked himself in the bathroom and turned the fan on, then vomited into the toilet before tangling his fingers into his hair and silently crying as his heart beat out his chest.
___________________
You had no idea of course, so nobody could imagine the slurry of emotions erupting inside of you when Sakura walked into the room, clipboard in hand for your check up. You laid back on the examination bed, heart beating out of your chest as she made conversation with you about your baby.
“You can tell me, c’mon! Who’s the father,” she asked, pouring jelly on your belly and spreading it around.
“I can’t…” you frowned.
“Why not?” She asked, turning to the screen and flipping it on.
“It’s cause,” you felt sweat bead on your forehead, you felt sick and had no idea how to tell her this was her husbands child. “It’s cause I had a sperm donor.”
Sakura spun around in the seat and looked at you.
“No kidding! So you’ve really wanted to be a mom that badly?” She asked, moving the small device around on your stomach.
“Um… Yeah I guess so,” you mustered a laugh.
“Didn’t they tell you who the donor was? Y’know if I check your appointment date I can see who’s they gave you-“
“Oh no that’s fine! I didn’t have a preference…” You lied as you both shifted your attention to the screen. “Just wanted it to be healthy…”
Soon enough the fetus was on screen and Sakura gasped with delight.
“Well it seems healthy to me!”
“Um, do you know it’s gender yet?” You asked, shamefully curious.
“Well it’s too early to tell, that’s also why it’s so small.” She pressed a little harder against you, and shifted it around. She pointed at the top of the oblong shape. “There’s the head.”
You smiled as you looked at it, then your face dropped. You felt tears roll down your face and soon enough you were crying. Sakura turned her head to see you.
“I’m sorry…” you cried, wiping your face.
“No no! It’s okay, plenty of mothers cry when they get their ultrasound done it’s completely fine! It’s also all those hormones don’t worry.” She sat closer to you and gave you a small hug, running her hand up and down your back.
You wished she had punched you, kicked you, or even yelled at you, maybe then you wouldn’t feel so bad about being her husbands mistress and baby mother. But instead she was coddling you and telling you it would be alright, which it certainly would not be. Eventually you stopped crying and Sakura grabbed her clipboard and started writing down on it. She tore a piece of paper out and handed it to you.
“It’s a list of some prenatal vitamins, they’ll make you feel better especially when you start to get further into your first trimester.” She was too sweet, and you were so shitty.
_______________________
That night after dinner you heard a knock at your door and when you saw who it was you wished you slammed it immediately.
“Can I come in?” Sasuke asked, looking around nervously.
“Get the fuck in here.” You muttered. He shut the door behind him and locked it. You crossed your arms angrily.
“You know it’s already fucked up as it is that I have to raise your child alone, and now i’m reminded that your wife literally exists. You know she gave my ultrasound?” Sasuke cringed. “Yeah. Didn’t think about giving me a heads up?”
“I can explain-“
“Oh! So you did know?”
“Listen-“
“What the fuck…” you cried, sobbing into your hands and turning away from him.
“So emotional…”
“Fuck you, loser.”
“If i didn’t know your hormones were out of control right now I’d remind you that out of the both of us the real loser might be the one carrying the married man’s child.” Sasuke snapped. You growled low, then with an open palm struck him across the face. He winced, a soft grunt escaping his lips.
“I should kill this damn fetus that you find so fascinating. I hate it. I hate you. Everyday i’m reminded there’s something disgusting growing inside of me that you put there, it makes me sick.” You cried again, ugly sobs ripping their way out through your lungs to bounce around the walls of your home.
“It’s not my fault you were acting like such a whore that day.” Sasuke frowned, his hand running over the red skin on his face.
“If you had killed that genjutsu user we wouldn’t be here right now.”
“You got in the way.” You scoffed.
“Always so pretentious, aren’t you?”
“It’s the truth. I could’ve handled it but no, you just needed to show off.”
“Show off? You’re one to talk. You’re practically showing off to the whole village how you got me knocked up everywhere I go.” Your brows furrowed. Sasuke was silent.
He knew you were right. Maybe he knew it was the pot calling the kettle black, but he was backed into a corner. Something about the word ‘loser’ struck a nerve with him. A deadbeat dad with a distant wife- no fault of anyone else but him. Did he somehow think starting a family with you would be some sort of do-over? something to rid him of his guilt?
When he looked at his wife he saw a beautiful woman, strong and accomplished. But how can you have any room for attraction to someone you have so much guilt for. Guilt for his old days of vengeance and hate, guilt for his job that kept him away from home for years.
But you? You were a fresh face. Beaming with optimism and a subtle hint of indifference that he knew he could change. You had something Sasuke couldn’t quite identify, simply being around you now felt dangerous. Sure, it could be, but it was more than the thrill of danger. You were his whim, his drug, the fever he couldn’t sweat out and being inside of you was the only place he wanted to be every hour of everyday. Maybe you have animosity for him now but could this family save you? more importantly- could it save Sasuke?
You took a deep breath in, shakily letting it go.
“You need to leave…” You were about to walk for the door when a possessive hand grasped your wrist. You froze.
“You don’t understand, I need you.” His voice was almost a whisper, the low growl that it almost produced set a shiver up your spine.
“I…” you started, face flush from his sudden shift. “Please, I can’t deal with you right now. You’re just too confusing.”
Sasuke gripped you brash and pinned you against the nearest wall, mounted frames ratted when you made contact. You gasped, your free hand coming to rest at your belly.
“Sasuke! You can’t just do that! It’s not good for the baby, knock it off,” your face burned hot. Sasuke raised a brow, a small smirk pricking up.
“Oh? So you do care about the well being of our baby, huh?” Bastard. He had you.
He leaned down partially, teasing you with a warm breath against your lips. You fought yourself to not close the gap, your mind racing and your face flaming. Soon enough you gave into your impulses and kissed him passionately.
You both let out an exhale, his soft lips making yours wet with his saliva. He opened his mouth to lick your sweet lips, tracing how plush they were only for his tongue to slip past them and feel along your own. His tongue ran along the smooth underside of yours, then swirled back up to trace your rougher taste buds, leaving his own flavor behind.
He grunted when you tangled your fingers in his hair, digging deep towards his roots and gently yanking when he pressed a growing erection into your swollen core. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck and he carried you to your bedroom, where he laid you down onto the mattress as soon as you both arrived.
Sasuke ripped off your pajama pants then ducked down to the valleys of your flesh, kissing in between your thighs to suck deep hickeys into. You moaned and writhed under his chin, then he made haste to your sensitive pussy, licking hard against your clit. You let out a harsh and untamed cry of pleasure, it almost sounded like you were in pain. But the way you bucked your hips into his mouth and dig deeper into his scalp proved otherwise.
You didn’t realize your body was craving Sasuke for so long until mere seconds later you were cumming on his tongue, hoarse moans and soft whimpers escaped your lips without warning as your juices filled his mouth. Sasuke palmed himself when you flooded into him, he swallowed every drop you could’ve given him and when you were done with your orgasm he didn’t stop devouring you until you were shaking like a leaf.
Sasuke roughly grabbed one of your tits as he stood up, looking down at you through narrowed eyes, you quivered under his gaze.
“Off.” He commanded. You took off your tank top and threw it across the room. Sasuke swooped down to caress your tits in his hand and mouth, biting harshly on your sensitive nipples. You clenched around nothing when he did so, thighs clamping shut around his torso.
He quickly came off of you and he undid his pants, you watched as the waistband of his pants and boxers fell to the floor, his large cock standing straight up against his chiseled abdomen.
There were no words spoken between the two of you. No promises of love, no claims of possession, no gifts exchanged or fancy jewelry to court with, no battles won to impress with, and no acts of tenderness. Only one single thing was present and that was the absolute orgasmic pleasure that came from being impaled be Sasukes cock over and over and over again. He got off watching you bounce from underneath him, your tits giggling every time he bottomed out and his balls smacked against your ass.
Sasuke bit his lip to stutter his moans when you started shaking again. Your climax looked almost like a seizure, more whimpers and cries were let out as you shook, only to be met with more tremors the longer he fucked you, continuing to deliver what practically seemed like pleasure epilepsies.
“F-Fuck! Sasuke, you’re so good…” you mewled, toes curling when he hit that good spot deep inside of you.
His hips didn’t slow their violent pace, his thumb traced along your clit, rubbing tight circles against it with he pad of his finger.
“Yeah…” he grunted, pace getting rougher. “You like this dick, huh? You like it so much you got pregnant from it, little whore.” He smirked, teasing you with long, deep strokes that slowed down to an agonizing pace.
You breathed heavily, heart pounding so loud and fast you were scared you might have a heart attack.
“Fuck- yeah…” you blubbered, hips twisting when you felt him bottom out.
“You’re gonna raise my fucking baby, aren’t you?” Sasuke murmured, his pace intensified and yet again you were crying out again.
“Y-yeah,” you whimpered, legs shaking as Sasuke obliterated your leaky pussy.
“That’s right… you’d do anything for this uchiha dick, wouldn’t you?” He asked with a smirk as he jackhammered you raw with his thick rod.
You neared your orgasm, cunt clenching tight and making Sasuke grunt as he continued to rail you. You nodded, eyes rolling back as your eye brows furrowed. Your mouth fell open and Sasuke took this opportunity to spit into it, you shocked yourself when you swallowed it. Sasuke had a feeling you would but watching you do it made him go crazy and his pace inside of you was excruciating.
“Say you want our baby, say you’re keeping it,” Precum was spilling out of you, it was fully mixed in with your arousal and your ass was drenched from your fluids dripping down.
“I want our baby, Sasuke- I… I’m keeping it I promise…” your face burned, your body surprised you would utter such words to the man who ruined you.
It didn’t matter for much longer since you came hard on his cock, appendages flying all around him to get him even closer to you. He complied and pressed himself deeper into you, almost as if he were fusing into you. his cock twitched when he filled you up with hot cum and you loved hearing his soft moans. you wrapped your legs around him to keep him right inside of you and if it wasn’t for the fact it was sasuke who had led you to this misfortunate spot, you wouldn’t be upset by the state you’re in now.
Eventually Sasuke got off of you and clothed himself. His pants covering his sex, almost as if in a way he was ashamed of where it had got him. Hiding it away from the mess he had made.
“I’ve got to go, I’ve already overstayed my welcome.” Sasuke sighed, he turned around and looked back over his shoulder at you. “Goodnight.”
You were still naked and drenched in sweat and sperm, juices leaking down your legs. It was like he injected you with his own venomous guilt for living, having desire, having your own craving for freedom through your sex. That freedom was gone now, only one of you had to deal with this fuck up. Now this venom was killing you. It was as if the most pleasurable knife was jabbed inside of you and you were bleeding out your emotions.
The sheets were all messed up besides you and as you watched him go you were glad he didn’t offer to tuck you in. A good man would’ve offered, a better would’ve tucked you in without even asking. In a way, it was confirmation he was a shitty lover and maybe even a worse partner. It made you feel better he wouldn’t do such an intimate thing for the fling like this when he has a wife and child at home.
Still shaken, you managed to sit upright, angry and defeated. You knew your body and mouth betrayed you of the freedom you wanted so badly. They reinforced his belief that you wanted to keep this anchor of a weight that was Sasuke Uchihas child. You were furious your body betrayed you and led you down a path of self destruction. You felt cheated, then felt worse when you realized that the only person who should really feel that way was Sakura.
AN: i have been LAGGING !!! i am so sorry gang i'm trying to be better with posting like how i used to but somethings been up idk what is is or when it'll be over but i think i just gotta womp womp my way through it. anyways i'm sorry if i forgot to add you to the tag list just leave a comment and i'll add you to the next part.
tag list: @just-your-emo-sensei @princess-saki1 @mandy-yeager @emmaaas-posts
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biahouse · 2 months
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Perfect for him, Gregory House x Reader
You're House's girlfriend. Wilson doesn't like you, but... 3 times Wilson realized you were the perfect person for house, +1 time he finally admits it
There was something about you that James Wilson made to hate you.
Maybe it was the way you were the silliest nurse at the hospital, and always fell for the patients' stupid conversations.
Or because you always do your coworkers' duties.
Or the way that in every surgery he performs, you insist on being an assistant nurse and talking to her throughout the procedure.
Or maybe he hated having his best friend stolen.
Wilson didn't hate people. That was House's job. It was even comical that in your situation, House adored you and Wilson hated you with all his being.
Don't get me wrong, you weren't a bad person.
He just doesn't like you.
1
The first time Wilson realized you were perfect for his best friend was at lunch. Since the beginning of the relationship between you and Greg, the doctor in question used to have lunch with you in his office.
But on that particular day, you were very busy in surgery. So with no other alternative, House had to have lunch with Wilson.
It was a surprise for James to see his friend entering the room with a packed lunch. House was known for eating junk food with all his meals. So Wilson assumed that if that hadn't changed with your relationship, he was wrong.
"What is that?" Wilson asked with an incredulous look at the lined pots that Gregory placed on the table.
"Food?" House responded as if it were obvious and mocked his friend.
"Okay, I know. But, I mean... you don't usually eat that."
"I know" House threw himself into the chair and opened one of the jars and started poking a carrot. "Carrots are a horrible thing, you know?"
"House" Wilson called his friend carefully. "Is this some kind of diet for addicts that I don't know about?"
"No. Y/n told me that I should eat more vegetables if I wanted to live longer" The doctor rolled his eyes when he remembered the argument he had with his wife a few weeks ago and since then she usually makes him lunch. "So I'm pleasing my girl" And with that he stuffed the orange vegetable into his mouth with a grimace.
Wilson could only look at his friend in shock.
For years he had tried to get House to eat a healthier diet, and you had achieved it in just a few weeks. Wilson had to admit, he liked you a little more now.
2
The second time Wilson realized you were perfect for his best friend was a week after the lunch incident. He and House were bowling, like they did on Wednesdays.
However, there was something strange about House. He was limping and in more pain than usual.
"What is it? Are you afraid of losing to me or did you forget the Vicodin at home?" Wilson mocked his friend as he threw the ball into the pins.
"Neither" House limped closer to the track when it was his turn to play.
"Is the pain getting worse?" Now James asked worried that Greg's leg was getting worse.
"No"
"Okay House, you win. Why are you in pain?"
"Because I'm trying to taper off the Vicodin" House replied with a shrug and celebrated without a strike.
"What?" Wilson raised his voice making people look at him. Which made him apologize immediately. "You. Gregory House, are you trying to stop Vicodin?"
"Y/n said it's going to kill me. She didn't suggest I stop taking it, but she was upset that I took so many. So I'm trying to cut down."
Wilson opened his mouth in astonishment.
Who was that man?
Gregory House would never cut down on your daily Vicodin cocktail.
But he did, for you.
Only for you.
3
The third time Wilson realized you were perfect for his best friend was on a random day at the hospital a few months after the second time.
House entered his office as he always did, without knocking and suddenly, which made Wilson jump out of his chair every time, even though he was used to it. But something felt wrong that time.
The way House for the first time looked nervous and really confused. For a while, James watched his friend limp around the room as if he was begging for something very deep in his own mind.
Wilson waited, he knew that like every other time House would start telling him about his doubts and he would give him one of his beautiful pieces of advice, which House would probably never follow.
"I want to ask Y/n to marry me" House blurted out and looked at his friend nervously.
"What?" Wilson blurted out the question with a laugh. "Marriage?".
"Yes" Greg said, shaking his head and plopped down on the armchair in his friend's living room. "I thought about it all week"
"All week?"
"Are you just going to repeat everything I say or are you going to tell me your opinion on this?" Greg scoffed at his friend and adjusted himself in the chair, his leg hurting a little.
"What do you want me to say House?" Wilson asked and looked through his patient's files once more, before closing the folder and focusing fully on the matter at hand. "I thought I would never get married"
"I know" House passed his hand across the gap in his forehead. "I don't know why I want it. I just want it."
"Gregory House doesn't know why, that's something I never thought I'd hear" James smiled playfully.
"For the first time I want something more. I want her to be my wife. Is that a bad thing?"
"No," Wilson answered honestly. "It just means you're better House."
"Does that mean you'll help me pick out a ring?"
"As long as you don't make me pay."
Wilson would never understand his relationship with House. Or how two very different people could do such great things together.
Wilson didn't hate you. He understood now. It was just jealousy that you achieved everything he always tried to do. Improve House.
He didn't hate you. Now he respected you.
+1
“Hey Y/n” Wilson called out your name when he saw you walking down the hall with a clipboard.
"Wilson, hi!" You waved at him enthusiastically. It was the first time he willingly spoke to you.
"I just wanted to say thank you" James said making the woman frown in confusion.
"What are you thanking me for? I don't remember helping you" Y/n questioned.
"But it helped, with House" Wilson explained. "I'm sorry for treating you badly all this time."
"You didn't treat me" Y/n shrugged with a smile. "I stole your best friend, it makes sense that you don't like me that much. But it means a lot that you like me now."
"I think you two are perfect for each other," Wilson admitted for the first time out loud. "I can't wait to be the godfather."
"Godfather?" Y/n asked.
"You'll see" Wilson smiled knowingly. “I’ll see you around Y/n.”
166 notes · View notes