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#her and this brand are just AMAZING
venompinks · 25 days
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NAYEON ☆ TOMMY JEANS
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moregraceful · 3 months
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#i should post the pregnant cat side fic on ao3...that was a really tender side story
I’m currently Jennifer Lawrence asking what do you mean? What 😭 do you 😭 mean? But without the pressure. I, too, have been frustrated by my lack of writing. If you ever feel like sharing even a scrap of that little side story, even just sharing bullet points, I would eat that shit up. But no pressure!! I’m even thankful you even posted the original story. I am also clearly, not afraid to shoot my shot lol
no omg please. i love to talk about my fic and your photoset is like the nicest thing anyone's done for my fics unprompted. it makes me so happy...thank YOU!
i had to go 21 pages back in my #unfortunate birdcage fanfictions tag to find the fic. i am always so happy to share it because i love it as a little scene, and then am always so distressed none of my metadata and cataloging classes in library school actually changed any of my social media behaviors so my blog is and will always be an absolute nightmare to navigate. lol anyway!!: god is a small pregnant cat in the sun // “and we’re all too small to talk to god” // jamie meets a cat
rest under a cut bc i suffer from fatal can't shut up when someone shows one iota of interest in my fic disease...
i was eating yogurt tonight and pondering this au after your ask!! and as with everything i write for hrpf, it's always in a constant state of evolution, when players come and go or i rewatch miyazaki films or w/e. but here are some thoughts i had, unrelated to jamie and jared:
tomáš is a grizzled fisherman with a kind heart, who spends most of his time fishing alone
future captain matty sells tuna's fish at the fish market but he sucks at it bc he's too nice to old grandmas who want nice fish but pretend they don't have enough money to buy it (they do, he's just a dummy). tuna has to hire a second person to help, but unfortunately that person is will borgen
obviously will and captain matty are harboring enormous crushes on tuna and deal with it by acting out (juggling fish across the booth to make him shout at them)
in the past i have said joey daccord is a gardener for chris and philipp and this still true, however sometimes i think he helps out with the early morning shift at the mccann bakery and will load like bread and cookies into his truck and take them down to the fish market so that....
eeli can sell them at his jam stand. eeli's jam makes you feel one of two emotions: unbridled euphoria or catastrophic depression. you never know what is going to happen. two jars of the same strawberry jam can alter the trajectory of your life in two different ways. and much like pregnancy, once you eat it and have a horrible time, it releases endorphins and then you're like actually that wasn't so bad, and you go back to his jam and mccann bakery bread stand and he looks at you beatifically and says, oh you liked it? :)
And then of course for Jared and Jamie:
most critically the one single time jared makes it out to the lighthouse (VERY sneakily bc like...that's a worksite lol harbormaster grubauer is kind but not soft) to Spend The Night, they obviously have very dreamy tender night time sex but ALSO the ghosts are quiet and jamie sleeps through the night without waking ONCE because that's true love babey!! jared ofc does not sleep at all because foghorns are loud lol
i outlined a longform version of this fic uhhh in dms with @bakingblues once i think, where jamie is veteran of (unspecified) armed conflict and he is running from what he did (also unspecifed) and he like is like i must punish myself and live alone to atone for my sins (unspecified but knowing me it's probably like...the Inherent Cruelty of War and not like anything that would get him tried in the hague) which is why he takes a lighthouse job. and in the whole fic it's totally unclear if he is being haunted by ghosts (real) or ghosts (ptsd). and ofc jared's gentle and constant love for him does not like Heal him but as with all love it makes the ghosts easier to bear
lorna prompted me a million years ago with jamie + jared + seashells i think? or oyster shells? and i never finished the fic bc i'm the worst but here's how it goes: one time after a storm the island is COVERED in oyster shells, like hundreds, maybe thousands, of them, and it was a bad bad bad storm and the ghosts were so loud and jamie didn't sleep at all and he's so tired and so lonely, but he's not scheduled to leave the lighthouse that week. so instead of doing his work, jamie spends the day picking up dozens and dozens of the most intact oyster shells. and he very patiently figures out how to drill holes in them and string them together with fishing line and it takes him all day but by the time it's time to turn on the lighthouse light, he has made a big intricate windchime for jared and his cousins. and when he finally makes it off the island three weeks later, he gives it to jared and his cousins. they all are soooo charmed and the girls hang it outside the door of their bakery immediately even though that is so excruciatingly embarrassing for jamie. however jared gives him the kind of hug that makes you fall in love with a guy and jamie, well, he's got a soft heart.
thank you for sending this ask!!!!
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actually the mecha having holoavatars and using them to just be is amazing actually
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psychoticwillgraham · 5 months
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me, walking into a Sephora that’s five times as big as the one back home without knowing the layout:
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blasterdiablo · 8 months
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「 @silveringmistress 」 | continued from 「 X 」
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Relief came in the form of a gentle embrace; from both his leading performer and the darkness she ushered in for him.
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His eyes slip shut, plunging him further into the dark as his hands trace lines up Asaka's back. Ren knew her form fairly well by this point, having explored it many times in this very room. It was the one constant he'd nary grow bored of; this ritual of theirs to escape the noise, to escape the light. Learning to navigate the pitch black together, using one another as a guide. She truly was the pale blue moon in Ren's abyssally dark nights. She occupied his eyes, his hands, his mind. And granted him peace where there was usually only chaos.
Ren simply hums in response to her offer, moving to rest his chin atop her head and noticing fairly quickly the scent of the exotic perfumes he'd gifted her with from his recent outing. Interested, he lowers himself to her shoulder before closing in on her neck to take in the scent better from where he'd often see her apply it behind her ears. Hundreds of perfumes over several years and he still hasn't found one that best suited her... He leaves a sigh against her skin in unexplained disappointment.
Eventually, as he normally ends up doing, he then rests the weight of his head fully on her shoulder. Depending on her to keep him upright at that moment, as if all the strength it took to keep him active and present to supervise the circus' efforts had all but left his body the moment she closed the door.
❝ ...I want more than that. ❞ He says in a small, yet lowered voice. His hands move from their place at the back of her head where he had been carefully twisting the strands of her hair between his fingers to pull her closer to him, each hand reaching her opposite shoulder. ❝ This isn't enough anymore ❞
They had still been near the door when he decided this was a good place as any to rest. He, who usually burdens Asaka with his weight to carry in moments like this suddenly changes roles against script. If he had the strength at that moment, perhaps he would have carried her to her bed before resting alongside her until he was without bombardment from visions and unpleasant memories. All so that he wouldn't have to let go of her for a single moment.
But he did not.
He was utterly spent from his recent bout of Psyqualia atop his duties to the circus despite Asaka and Tetsu taking on a majority of responsibilities since Rekka joined their numbers. Rekka had come to them with knowledge that had piqued Ren's interest and it had been occupying a lot of his time. But he was still the Pale Moon Circus' Director, and Tetsu wasn't about to let him forget that. It was a pain honestly, it made him want to hide away in this room all the more.
His hold on her lowers to support her center of gravity, hoisting her up against him as he takes a step back to slide his back down against their bolted door. That left him sat on the floor, propped up against the door, holding Asaka there against his chest. And by how his body had relaxed between them both, it was clear he had no intentions on moving from that spot. Not until he had gotten a few winks of sleep there, at the very least.
❝ This is our last night here. Tomorrow... we move into the Theater. ❞
The Theater, as Ren dubbed it, was the Pale Moon Circus' new base of operations. Funded completely by the Sawatari family; it was a grand spectacle compared to the tent city the circus had previously operated from. It was practically a mobile fortress by comparison, able to bring about their shows across the lands and bring amazement to the masses and extend their efforts from border to border.
Of course, the Theater was a perfect place as any for the Director and his Ringmistress. He had made sure of it, ensuring the largest room on the highest floor was catered to him and the star of his show perfectly. Asaka had been far too busy leading the troupe in his stead to take part in the Theater's construction, so it was to be a complete surprise on her part. Ren opened his eyes, for just a moment, and in the darkness a glimmer passed over his sights.
An image of them; within the loge of the theater watching over their show. Strange... Normally Asaka was on the stage in his visions. A bright flash from the lower floor reaches their box, catching his eye, halting his breath. Golden flames blaze brilliantly for the first time in years, but before Ren can confirm the sight the vision ends abruptly, causing him to groan softly against Asaka's shoulder as the power recoiled on him. It was something for him to delve into tomorrow with the pink one's supervision, for now... he was too tired to do anything about it.
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❝ But for tonight... Tonight I wish to remain like this. ❞
Despite his weakened demeanor when he was alone with her, his arms locked around her with the intent on keeping her there while his eyes accept the darkness once more. Unspoken words delivered through gestures like this was something Ren often did, but the language was often lost in translation. An embrace as if to say; don't leave me... Leaning against her as if to say; I need you... Light grazes of his lips against her skin, the running of his fingers through her hair, decorating her in gifts and even attending her shows when either Tetsu and Rekka had other things in mind for him to be doing. Words didn't come to Ren easily, if only he could show Asaka what he saw it'd be much easier to show her how much her asylum had meant to him.
Here, he didn't have to be perfect. Here he didn't have to reach expectations or assume any sort of responsibility. Here he didn't have to be hurt by the past. It was just him and Asaka. If he could he'd accept her offer to stay like this forever if he could. But... that wasn't an option. He still had things to do, and until he achieved them he truly couldn't rest. If it was for tonight though, just for one night...
❝ ...If only I had the power to snuff out the light of the sun. Then... ❞
Then tomorrow would never have to come. But alas, the Director's childish reasoning is lost to his descent into the land of dreams. It was difficult to fight against the darkness closing in on him with the comfort and warmth of Asaka in his arms, after all. And despite being more or less asleep at this point, his hold on her is reinforced as though he was trying to prevent himself from letting her go. Never again did he wish to wake up to her disappearance... He's lost both her and Kai before, he's not sure what he'd do if he lost them both at the same time. But Asaka was here now, she wouldn't leave him alone again... and soon enough things would be back to the way they used to be. Right? -
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novadreii · 2 years
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Honestly the only remake I'd gladly pay money to see right now would be Twilight. The whole thing. Twist: ALL of it directed by Catherine Hardwicke. Soundtrack is 95% Muse with Iron & Wine thrown in for sappy moments. Casting? Honestly? Kristen Stewart has to come back as Bella, nobody else works for her lmao. Everyone else? Shuffle. There's a permanent blue filter and cloud cover. The camera angles are tight and disorienting the entire time. Jacob is played by someone who can maybe actually act and animate his expressions without scrunching up his face like he's shitting?
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fabulouslygaybean · 2 years
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just got my quote back from the tech repair shop and it's gonna cost a little over $100 to replace the fucking phone screen
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exbeaut · 2 years
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Cruel prince series?? Anyone??
#if yes can we discuss Holly black#bc I’m almost done book of night and like yes I have found myself reading the book in one day but#I feel like#I’m not reading it in one day bc it’s SO GOOD AND I CANT STOP#it’s more just like yeah it’s good it’s decent but if I didn’t love the cruel prince series I prob wouldn’t like it#just bc of having read cp series many times I’m used/can accept her ‘style’ of writing#and like by style I mean the annoying things about it like how she describe clothes they are wearing down to the brands#like I thought the cringed ass descriptions in cp of like Jude wearing converse and a star tshirt were due to the times like 2013?? or whate#but now in this brand new book she is describing her wearing the black tee and vans and I’m like?? do we need to do that#but like I’m used to/and expect that like cringe wattpad type descriptions LOL u know not wattpad but u know the vibe it’s like ifykyk#but anyway I’m not saying book of night is bad bc I do like it I’m enjoying the book and read like 2/3rds of it at work today#it’s good don’t get me wrong but it’s not like omg insane I can’t stop I’m addicted and need to know what happens#basically I’m not hyper fixated on it LOL#but anyway idk what I’m saying rn but it’s good?? but not like OMG GOOD GREAT AMAZING#anyway if anyone is feeling these things or has read/fixated on cp series talk to me about it pls#but also just want to state that I wasn’t like OMG I LOVE THIS SERIES with the cruel prince series like I read all three books in a day#like a day and a half idk it was like a weekend I had half off so like after 4pm Saturday until Sunday night#but then re reading it twice (??I think twice might be 3x tho)since the first time it’s like yes now I am obsessed and love cp series and#Jude and Cardan 😭😭😭😭#but anyway what I’m saying is that I knew from the first time I read co the first Holly black book I had read that her writing was well...#something I had to adjust to and force myself to ignore the cringey aspects of it and it’s just like cringey in my POV u know like everyone#is different#but anyway I am rambling sm rn I make no sense but I’m just trying to make it clear I don’t dislike Holly or her writing but I’m just#admitting that her books that I consider favs of mine are considered it more bc I had fun and felt things while reading it and less bc of#like idk the intellectual quality of the prose of that makes sense
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kelpiemomma · 7 months
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My brother really had the audacity to tell me his work took them out to breakfast this morning (the entire business, which is small because it's family run, but it's still like ten people) and paid for it and then he tells me this afternoon after lunch that he's "going back to hell"
Bro they provide drinks for you??? Water, soda, monster, Gatorade, you ask for it they buy it??? You're able to come home for lunch, you can leave a job site and go back in an emergency, and you're in hell???
I never want him in my industry I swear to God 💀 he would absolutely complain about the hours, the people, the drive, the customers, the companies, and it would all come back to in me because your family affects your work in the industry. If you come from a family that's known for some lazy workers, you're going to be side eyed unless you prove yourself different. Coursez if you come from families that have union ties and have had them for a while, you're also all set regardless of how well you work 🥴
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˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚ what I know to be true ⋆。˚ ೀ⋆。˚ ༘
Childe wasn't a big fan of the Tsaritsa's demand for him to find a wife, until he'd come upon the perfect girl for the job. You—a lady he knew in his childhood to be a horrible nuisance and demon on Earth. Not only would this marriage fulfill his duty, but would let him settle a long-time grudge as well. Little did he know, he stood more to gain from this partnership than he thought.
Childe x fem!reader II arranged marriage, angst? to fluff, childhood enemies to lovers, romance!
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Childe was never one for romance, and especially not for commitment.
He just had so much else on his plate, much bigger dreams than that of settling down in a household and abandoning his place on the battlefield.
He was always looking ahead to a future of bloodshed, of power, of someday ruling the world.
That wasn't going to happen if a distraction stood in his way.
He would sometimes muse about having kids, loving the idea of continuing his lineage and watching a bunch of mini-me's run around, but ultimately, he decided his duty to the Tsaritsa would stand in the way of him being a good father. So he'd just have to settle for being an amazing uncle to the children his siblings would eventually have, spoiling them with presents at Christmas time and teaching them how to protect themselves out in the wild.
So when he was called into the Tsaritsa's throne room and received the news that a harbinger of his status was to be married, in order to keep up with regal airs the nobles of Snezhanaya, he was, respectfully, very unhappy.
"You'll be seen at balls and lead battalions. Your role must be carried with honor. Nobody will respect an old lonely man.", she claimed, then drew out a long, thin arm to hold his chin with a bony hand—long pointed nails pressing divots into his skin. Though her touch was frigid, she looked down at him with a certain fondness in her eyes, though the sincerity of it was undistinguishable. "You need a pretty thing by your side to elevate your status. You know I only want what's best for you.", she cooed, like she was addressing a child.
He new better than to disobey her commands, and something about the smoothness of her voice assured him that this was the right choice. He only nodded, though his fists clenched at his sides in dismay.
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Childe read over the listed names of eligible young ladies for him to marry with contempt; scrolling through the meaningless last names and accompanying statures, ordered from top to bottom by how highly they stood in the totem pole of nobility. Like he cared where the girl would come from.
He felt guilt for the miserable thing that would have to marry him; though he could care less about who these women were, he believed that they deserved a partner that loved them, or at least a good man that could stand to take care of them. All they would be to him is a nuisance, a label which they had done nothing to earn.
Though, when he neared the end of the list, a section devoted to common folk who had certain merits like striking beauty or some sort of fame, that he found a name he recognized.
Your name.
Oh, how he remembered you.
You were the daughter of good friends of his parents. Your families would often gather for holidays or dinner parties, sharing what little they had in the name of kinship. The gatherings were lively, full of happiness and cheer...
But you had a certain countenance that stood out to him and branded your name into a special part of his brain to be remembered for the rest of his life.
You were a little brat was what you were.
Though you were only a toddler when he met you, having only just taken your first steps while he was already halfway through being eight, he found you to be the most insufferable little human he'd ever met.
Your parents would always gab and brag about what a good little girl you were; how you never cried or screamed, how you were sweet and patient and loving—a wonderful surprise for parents preparing for the "terrible two's.".
They had to be lying, because every time Ajax would come into view you'd immediately throw a fit, wailing and swiping at his face with a kind of rage an entire army of men could not match.
He had no idea why; he never touched you, or spoke to you, all he did upon your first meeting was draw back in repulse.
You weren't a pleasure to look at; with your beady little eyes and thick eyelashes that lined them, your thin eyebrows and piercing gaze. You looked like some haunted porcelain doll. And there was a certain consciousness behind your eyes that children your age were not supposed to have.
His little siblings were much cuter.
And he did not hesitate to say that.
"Tonia was a prettier baby. What's wrong with her?", he piped up, humiliating his mother and father who immediately scolded him for his rudeness. Your mother only laughed.
"Trust me, she'll be a beauty when she grows up. I won't be surprised when you come around here in sixteen years asking to marry her."
This started a little musing session between your mothers, giggling about the possibility of their children being wed and how wonderful that would be for their friendship and their families.
Meanwhile, Ajax was dwelling on how that would absolutely never happen—if the look on your face was any indicator.
You were red as a tomato, nose scrunched in distain as your eyes pierced his. Like you'd understood him.
How was he supposed to know babies could take offense?
Whether or not your infant brain could comprehend his words, your hatred was clear, and before he could react, your soft little hand went flying towards his face and landed with a resounding THWAP!
Even though you struck him, you immediately burst into tears, bawling crocodile tears that ran down your face and dripped off of your chin.
All of the adults in the room immediately ran to your aid, hushing and petting you while scorning Ajax for "tormenting the poor girl."
Never before had he felt so cheated.
That begun his feud with a two year old.
Your detest for one another ran deep. So much so that every gathering between your families ended in you receiving plenty of sneaky pinches to your fat baby skin and him risking a bald spot with the amount of hair you'd rip out of his head.
It was a nightmare you could walk too, since you'd often seek him out just to babble in annoyance and tug at the knee of his trousers.
"See? Look at how much she likes you!", his mother would coo, but he knew better. Your grappling with his pants was your pea-brained strategy to get him to bend down and remove you so you could bop him one on the nose.
He swore you were such a strong baby. He'd rather take a hit from a club than suffer the force that your tiny fists could bring down on his head.
That's why you were the perfect girl to be his wife
If he were to marry any other woman, the guilt of leaving her alone at home for long stretches of time, depriving her of having the good husband she deserves rather than a man who could never love her, would be overwhelming.
Sure, he was a monster, but he wasn't about to let some innocent bystander be collateral damage.
But you? The evil, horrible little wench you are? You more than deserved it.
In his mind, he'd actually be doing his fellow man a favor by saving an unsuspecting bachelor from accidentally marrying a grisly thing like you.
So, although his retainers were already in the process of scheduling meetings with his potential brides, he plucked your name from the list without hesitation.
"Set the wedding date. I'll have that one."
The organizers looked between themselves warily, deciding whether or not they should challenge him on this monumental decision.
"And nothing too grand—it'll just be family.", he cooly added, leaning back in his chair to rest his feet upon his desk and crushing the list of names under his dirty boots.
In the end, the harbinger always gets what he wants, so his retainers retreated with quiet nods and quick steps.
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Though Childe acted aloof towards the decision to have you as his bride, when the day of the wedding actually arrived and he found himself standing at the altar of a small church in Mosepok—his home town, his palms were sweating and eyes darting around nervously. He shifted his weight on his feet as the congregation waited for you to enter; this was supposed to be a small ceremony, but leave it to his mother and father's proud announcements to their friends and neighbors to draw a crowd. As his eyes scanned the faces of those who'd known him in his youth, he realized near all of the small port town was packed into the pews. He wracked his brain for the answer as to why these people would want to watch their old town troublemaker's union, but he supposed it would be the most interesting thing to happen in the town since his era of delinquency.
It was a miracle that the budget the Fatui gave Childe for this wedding greatly superseded the amount he'd needed for the original plan of a small gathering; it was more than enough to feed the whole town for a night, which actually brought a flicker of joy to Childe's chest.
He was pleased that he could give back to the community that handled him like a family in his childhood.
But that flicker was immediately quenched when the creaking sound of the heavy oak doors that led into the chapel reverberated through the room—revealing the silhouette cast in white of his bride.
His stomach turned with anxiety. Childe had led battalions into what could be considered suicide missions if not for their miraculous victorious outcome, and yet, somehow, the fear he felt standing in front of a girl that, though she may not be small by definition, definitely looked so standing next to him, significantly surpassed that of which he's ever felt.
His cold body shook like he stood inches from death.
Suddenly, he remembered the fury your little body had when you were only a baby, and it dawned on him that you've only gotten bigger, smarter, stronger. A little arbiter of the apocalypse couldn't have grown into the meek woman he imagined, if anything, her bloodlust grew with age.
What did he get himself into? Was he an idiot? Did he, blinded by his scheming for revenge, land himself in a lion's den?
With a light tap on the shoulder from the priest, he jolted out of his stupor and found you standing in front of him already, suddenly remembering that he was now to lift your veil.
His hands shook as he reached out, bracing himself for the hideous face he'd been forced to associate with at every friendly gathering between your parents in childhood, and now, due to his own brashness, would have to associate with every time he returned home or attended public events.
He took a deep breath and shut his eyes as he took the fabric between his white-knuckled fingers and threw the thing up and over your head. The procession hummed with awe and approval—some more boisterous men from the docks whistling, to which their wives jabbed an elbow into their ribs.
The sounds of adoration resounding from the audience perplexed Childe, drawing his interest and encouraging him to open one wary eye and peek at you.
But his cautious peek grew into an owlish gawking and dropped jaw when the woman before him shined like an angel.
This couldn't have been the girl he knew in her infancy; her once-beady eyes now twinkled like stars, her red puffy face was now sculpted and the only remnants of her discoloration resided in dusted pink pigments on her cheeks. They were so perfectly placed that they could be mistaken for a painting by an artist with a keen eye. He pried his gaze from your enrapturing eyes to ogle your lips—plushy and inviting. He'd give anything to kiss a gorgeous woman like you.
And he remembered with an unexpected delight that he would by the end of this ceremony.
Before he knew it, the soft ring of your voice settled upon his ears. Having been caught in a trance, he hadn't realized the procession already arrived at your vows.
He only tuned in after the opening sentences of your declaration had passed, your words blurred by his reverie.
"I promise to wait for you when you go and embrace you when you return; to make a warm, solace of a home for you that you can always come back to, whether there be a roof over our heads or not. I promise to follow you through this life and meet you in the next, to be by your side when you need me, no matter how far apart we may be forced to exist. I promise to love you and only you, to be true as long as your ring encloses my finger, and promise to keep it there forever. I will take your family into my arms just as you will me, care for them—as they are an extension of you, to love them just as I do you. I'll hold you ever close to my heart, speak to you with nothing but kindness, recognize your face as that of my partner in life, my one and only, and..."
Childe jumped when he felt your warm hand sneak up on his and gingerly intertwine your fingers, to which he did not resist, nor want to.
"I promise to love you as you are; no matter how much the years we spend together may change us."
To his puzzlement, Childe felt a certain wetness roll down his cheek, causing him to look up at the skylight above the both of you to check if it was raining. When another droplet ran down the other side of his face, he realized he was crying.
Childe never cried, he couldn't even remember the last time it had happened; maybe it was sometime when he was a boy, but the memory simply did not exist. These were not tears shed in misery, they were spurred by your words of devotion, words he'd never been blessed with before. He truly wondered now if you may be divine, but all he beheld of you told him you were, in fact, human, and not a vision of absolution sent from the heavens above.
You tilted your head to the side and blinked your dollish eyelashes at him, obviously waiting for something, to which he remembered that is was now his turn.
He had neglected to write vows beforehand or memorize the traditional vows spoken by couples bound by marriage as an arrangement. He had, in fact, planned on skipping the process altogether, but your profession of love caught him off guard and incentivized him to speak his own.
So, with a blank mind, he resorted to letting the few truths he knew spill from his mouth.
"I'd only known you during our childhoods, but how you've blossomed and changed has..."
He had never been one for words, so making something up on the spot in front of quite literally a hundred people was daunting. His voice seized with trepidation, but he took a breath and moved forward.
"Has...left me speechless. My mind is empty, and all I can think of now is...that I am blessed."
He swallowed a lump in his throat and continued, struck by your endearing gaze on him—it made his voice quiver as it resounded from his chest.
"I'd assumed I knew you, but it's clear to me now that I have so much more to learn."
He unconsciously squeezed your hand for comfort, and, with a gentle smile on your face, you reassuringly squeezed back; making him sigh and yearn to feel more of you—imagining that you felt like warm cotton, soft and homey, something he could bury himself in and happily stay there for eternity.
"And I want to learn it. I...want to spend my whole life in awe of you, discovering as much as I can, knowing you like I know myself."
He could not hesitate before he blurted his next statement, his voice getting carried away from him and spilling his most personal beliefs.
"And loving you as you love me."
Your cheeks turned an even brighter shade of pink, and your eyes glimmered as your perfect lips stretched into an even more enticing smile. He could hear your soft, happy sigh, a sound that not even the priest beside the two of you could catch, almost like a secret meant just for him.
Your sweetness enthralled him like nothing he'd ever experienced— slowly convincing him that you very well may be the best thing that's ever happened to him.
"I'll take care of you.", he promised, and meant it. "I'll spend the rest of my life ensuring your safety and happiness. Despite what you promised before, I will always put a roof over your head. You'll be forever warm and safe. I will fight for you, die for you, do anything you ask. You will want for nothing as long as you're mine."
His vow had come upon its conclusion with one final promise he all but growled, like it was somehow in danger of being broken—that he would go to any length to protect.
"And you will forever be mine."
His pause at the end indicated to the priest that the his vow had ended, and the way your lips parted in wonder and your wide eyes remained locked on his made him want to lean in and kiss you like every inch of his body burned to do. But he had to, begrudgingly, wait; hoping the ceremony would end as soon as possible so he could finally have you to himself and ask you all the questions he was dying for the answers to.
Did you really mean what you said? He sure did, and he didn't even know he had the capacity to not only promise, but want, desperately so, the fulfill the oaths he had declared to you.
Soon enough, the priest announced it was now time for the bestowing of the rings—a symbol of the bond you will share for eternity.
As the ring bearer, Childe's dear brother, Teucer, brought the rings resting on a white silk pillow over to the altar and held it over his head while he balanced on his tippy toes so the two of you could reach the rings with ease. Childe immediately felt awash in shame. All he'd purchased for you was a simple silver band—no precious gems, no original detailing, just a band. He didn't expect to want to take pride in the symbol of his loyalty you'd wear for him on your finger. He'd get you a new one, a better one—one he could admire as he kissed your hand, held it with adoration and smoothed his fingers over it.
But although the ring fell below expectations, there was no disappointment on your face. You barely glanced at it, your eyes trained on his face with a fondness he'd never received before. Your gaze had his heart spilling over with exaltation.
You took his hand in yours and slipped the perfectly fitted ring around his finger, giving it a small squeeze when you were done—as if to brand your affection deep into his hand.
He returned the gesture, taking your other hand in his and, carefully, securing the ring around your finger as well; he breathed a sigh of relief and felt a weight he hadn't known was resting on his shoulders alleviate. His heart thundered in his chest, threatening to leap out in a desperate attempt to be ever closer to yours.
The priest spoke, but his voice was drowned out by Childe's inner voice, wailing for you.
All he could register was the sound of your silver bell-like voice, piercing through the fog in his head like a star's light in the void of the night sky above.
"I do.", you said.
He couldn't tell if he'd rushed ahead of the priest's announcement of his turn or not, but he followed your statement blindly.
"I do.", he whispered ardently, brushing the backs of those precious hands of yours softly with his thumbs.
After the final blurb recited by the priest, a sentiment he couldn't bring himself to listen to in his anticipation, he finally heard the words he'd been waiting for.
"You may now kiss the bride."
Without a moment of delay, he brought both of his hands up to cup your cheeks, a look of ache in his face as it felt like you had reached an invisible hand into his chest and gripped his heart, and kissed you.
Fervently, passionately kissed you.
It took your breath away, left you panting when he finally pulled away after remembering he was, in fact, in front of his parents and broader community.
But cheers sang from the crowd for your union as he led you back down the steps of the altar and out of the church, eyes trained on your feet with your hand secured in his—watching carefully as you descended to make sure you wouldn't fall. He treated you as if you were sculpted from crystal glass.
After the two of you crossed the threshold out of the church as one, Childe gently tugged your hand to draw you closer so that he could whisper in your ear.
"Could we take a walk in the garden?"
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While the guests made their way to the reception hall for their lavish dinner, you and Childe strolled through the church's garden together, hands still intertwined as the two of you gazed at the various winter shrubs and evergreen trees sprinkled with snow. It was beautiful in its own kind of way; the way life persevered through otherwise uninhabitable conditions, how even the bear oak trees existed as intricate silhouettes against the grey sky—providing cover as the sun sank down and gave way to a grim dusk, it was wonderful, and in this moment, it was yours to share.
The two of you came to a halt at a marble bench next to a large, frozen fountain, adorned with swirling details and moulding from an older, more fanciful era. He swiped off the snow that had built on top of the bench, then removed his large, fur-lined cloak to rest on the surface. He led you down to sit on it, having fashioned a dry, warm seat for you as he stood.
"Won't you be cold?"
"I'll be fine.", he assured you. He'd grown used to the frigid air of his home country, having entered various conflicts with nothing but thin linen to cover him for the sake of his movements not being burdened by thick, heavy fabric.
"Thank you.", you spoke, softly, and the words warmed his chest more than any coat could.
He stood there for a long moment, just taking in the sight of you. He just couldn't believe you were real, and couldn't believe you were his at so little a cost—he'd done nothing but bellyache and pluck your name off of a paper, and somehow the situation ended up being the best decision of his life. He'd found someone that claimed to truly, deeply love him by sheer chance.
And that thought brought him to the question that had been weighing on his mind since your vows.
"Did you really mean what you said?", he asked, quietly, hesitantly. After the words left his mouth, he wished he'd never said them. He didn't want to know the answer; if he could live in a fantasy where a miracle like you truly adored him, he'd seize the opportunity and hold it close to his heart for the rest of his life. He felt like such a fool.
"Of course I did.", you chuckled, like the question was ridiculous.
"I thought you hated me.", he confessed, his curiosity for your change of heart getting the best of him when he knew better than to ask too many questions. You only quirked your head and blinked at him, indicating that he needed to clarify. "When we were younger, you acted like you wanted my head on a stick."
To that admission, you laughed heartily. It was a lovely sound, one his mind would no doubt play on repeat in his darkest of times, sending sparks to his heart that would keep him moving forward—back to you so he could hear it again and again. "I was a toddler, dear. I didn't understand my feelings! And you were pretty nasty to me, too.", you said with a playful, pointed look.
The term of endearment made his heart bubble, craving to hear you say it again, but his mind was desperate for more answers. "But...how did you...", he coughed awkwardly, "fall for me?".
His carefully spoken question only made you giggle once again, but you could understand his confusion.
"Oh, Ajax. You were the most entertaining person I've ever met. I know we fought, but I remembered your presence in my life so fondly. And I'd look at pictures of us from our old gatherings, where our parents would force you to hold me on your lap and smile, or take candid shots of us chasing each other around, and I'd wish for you to come back so we could fight again.", you laughed at the memory. "I thought of you all the time, you know. And, as I grew older and life passed by, I'd keep looking back on those photos and...", your cheeks turned even redder than the chilly air had already done, flushing your cheeks and nose. After this conversation, Childe would make sure to rush you inside so you could warm up by a hearth. "Well, my heart would beat for you. And I wished you would come back for different reasons...so I could see you again and fall in love with the man you've become."
Childe gulped in shame. He knew the man he'd become was...cruel. Wicked. He'd never thought so little of himself than when he stood before you, your glorious, pure eyes assessing him like Celestia would upon the day of his death.
But how you looked on at him was not in judgement, but affection. "And when I met you at the altar, I did. I truly did."
He was so swayed by your words, so caught up in your devotion, that though he knew he was undeserving, he leaned down and connected your lips with his once again; his large hands warmed you where they caressed your cheek and the side of your neck, his lips thawing your frozen ones. The flavor of you was intoxicating, but as much as he wanted to prolong this moment, your icy skin pushed him to get you inside immediately.
So he drew back, drawing the most angelic whine of protest from your lips. It made him grin in pride.
"Let's warm you up, huh?"
Though you wanted to stay in the privacy of this isolated garden, continue to live in this moment that only existed for the two of you, you couldn't deny how you shivered and your stomach growled. It was time for your reception, and you couldn't keep your guests waiting.
So you, albeit reluctantly, let Ajax pull you up into his arms and throw his cloak around the both of you before taking you back to the church where he married you, now entering sharing one heart, one life, one love. Forever.
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luveline · 6 months
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hellooo!! im not sure if your requests are open so feel free to ignore this but i was wondering if you could write for tasm!peter where the reader just got her wisdom teeth removed and she’s all loopy on anesthetics and forgets peter is her boyfriend? i saw this video where this girl got her wisdom teeth pulled and forgot she was dating her boyfriend and fell in love with him all over again😭😭
https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR7sGQo5/
thank you for your request! ♡ fem, 1k
"Here she is," the nurse says gently, walking you out with his arm behind your back. "Alright, say hi to Peter." 
"Hi, Peter," you mumble, eyes on the floor. 
Peter grins at you, worry warm at the back of his throat. "Hey. Is that everything?" he asks, nodding at the nurses paper bag of aftercare. 
"Everything you'll need." The nurse helps Peter take over, hoisting your arm over his shoulders before stepping away. "Alright, feel better, okay? And don't hesitate to call if something comes up. We're here to look after you." 
You seem appreciative in your fog, but it's hard to tell. Peter curls his arm around your hip and gives it a soft rub as he leads you to the stairs. Whoever devised the floor plan here had murder on their mind —the second floor is completely inaccessible. Luckily, Peter has a lot of strength at his disposal. 
You can feel it. "Woh, you're strong," you murmur. 
"You know that already." His grip on you tightens, pretty much carrying you down the tight staircase. 
"Do I?" you ask. You make a sound like you're hurting, a squeak. 
"I'd hope so." At the end of the staircase, he sits you down, worried you're not feeling well. "You okay? I can princess carry you if you need me to." 
You look at him with wide eyes. He turns to check there's no one standing behind him, but you're really looking at him. "What?" he asks, touching your knee, imploring. "You look like you've seen a ghost." 
"You're Peter?" you ask. 
Ah, the amnesiac effect of anaesthetic. His touch turns comforting, stroking your thigh with as much care as he can drive into his palm alone. "That's me. Hey, if you're forgetting me, does that mean you're not mad at me for last Friday anymore? 'Cos I know you said you forgive me but I can tell it still pisses you off–" 
Your eyes fall to his hand. "Why would I be mad at you?" you ask. 
"I finished the milk and put the carton back in the fridge, even though I promised I'd stop doing it. You see the jug and think there's milk left. We were gonna have macaroni and cheese..." He nudges your fingers with his. "Are you okay? You don't look like yourself."
"What do I usually look like?" 
"Not so, you know. Daunted." 
"You're really handsome," you whisper, refusing to meet his eye. 
"Oh, you think so?" 
You nod like your head is too heavy. You're embarrassed, you sweetheart, oh my god Peter could cry into your lap. 
"Let's get you to the car, baby." 
"Where are we going?" The gauze gives you the world's most adorable lisp, and it turns your gasp into a hum as Peter stands you up. 
"Home." 
"Together?" 
"Yeah, we live together. It's a nice place, and you're a great decorator, you know? It's cozy." 
"Thank you," you say shyly. 
You're not not shy with him, but it's been a long time since you got so quiet over a practically innocuous comment. He wants to see how you'll react to real compliments, over the top stuff that he one hundred percent means. It's a little mean, but when will you ever be like this again? 
He helps you out past the desk and onto the street to your car where it's parked a half a block down. "Don't worry about all this, okay? I'm gonna take such good care of you, sweetheart. There's an ice pack and a brand new comforter with your name on it waiting at home." Peter smiles at your starry eyes as they flash to his, amazed at his simple plans. "How does that sound, beautiful? Is there anything you want before we head home? Anything that would make you feel better?" 
"You're gonna take care of me?" you ask breathlessly. 
"That's my job. That's my number one boyfriend duty." 
"You're my boyfriend?" 
"I am!" he says happily, laughing as he speaks. "For a while. I've been trying to take things further but you're always really shy about getting married–" 
"You want to get married? To me?" 
Peter presses a soft kiss to your cheek. "You're the only person I'd ever want to get married to. We already picked the flowers–" 
"We did?" 
He laughs again, all your questions. He loves regular you but loopy you is especially endearing. "Last time I got super drunk, yeah. You never let me forget it." 
"So you love me?" you ask, stopping short.
"I love you so much," he says immediately, hugging you into his side. He dots another kiss against the top of your head. "You should remember that even if you don't remember me." 
"I love you," you say quietly. 
Peter doesn't know if that's your memory returning, or if you've fallen in love with him in the last fifteen minutes. He could easily fall in love with you that quickly, and yet he's still amazed at your confession. 
"That's good. That's great. Thank you, sweetheart," he says, desperate to hold your face in his hands but weary of causing you future pain. "There's your car," —he points, lowering his head to yours to make sure you can see it, hand now protectively held between your shoulder blades— "let's go home now. Yeah?" 
You start walking again at his requests. He can pretty much see the steam rising off of your face, giddy with happiness at these revelations. You're together, you're in love, and you think he's handsome. He wonders what you'll have to say about his biceps in this state of delirium; you go crazy for his arms sober. 
Which reminds him. 
"I totally have another secret to tell you," he says, unlocking the car as you approach and helping you into the passenger seat. 
"What is it?" you ask. 
Peter closes you in and skirts around the door, climbing into the driver's seat. He's glad that New York is as ridiculously loud as ever, because not even the closed doors or your sodden gauze can smother the way you shriek.
"My boyfriend is Spider-Man?!" 
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blusandbirds · 11 months
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the batkids will deliberately get jason into their favorite pieces of media so he’ll write fanfiction for it.
dick discovered this strategy when he forced jason to watch one of his favorite shows with him. he’d totally forgotten that the show ended on a cliffhanger before it was cancelled, but rewatching it brought back that feeling of dissatisfaction he had the first time around. so dick opens up the ao3 tag for the show and to his surprise, there’s a brand new fic addressing every single loose end, complete with beautiful prose and amazing characterization. dick practically weeps. it’s only when he realizes some of the things in the fic match up with the rants jason had during their watch of the show that he has barbara confirm his suspicions about who the author is.
somehow everybody but jason gets wind of this and they’re taking unashamed advantage of it. the next time they see a movie together, stephanie leans over to jason to whisper about the romantic potential between two characters. she gets like three fics for her ship out of that. when jason goes outside, barbara switches electronic billboards and redirects taxis with ads for her favorite show. and of course, every targeted ad on his phone and computer are for the same show. when he finally gives in and watches it, barbara ends up with plenty of content to get her through the between seasons break.
everybody in jason’s family is subscribed to the ao3 account that he doesn’t know they know he has. one day, they’re all chilling in the library, and at the same time jason publishes his latest fic (for a movie bruce of all people was very insistent he watch), everybody’s email notifications go off. he narrows his eyes suspiciously. “just some wayne enterprises stuff.” “got a package delivered.” “what’s an email?”
it’s fine. he’ll let them get away with it. besides, he does the same thing to damian to get fanart out of him.
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smutoperator · 2 months
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Versace On The Floor
Ning Yizhuo (Ningning) x Male Reader
Tags: anal, armpit licking, ball throating, creampie, crying, fashion, feet worship/footjob, (lots of) floor sex, mirror fucking, mouth gag, photoshoot, prone bone, rough but romantic, (lots of) screaming, spitting, throatpie, water play
Word count: 6569.
Shanghai, China, October 18th, 2023
Versace had been searching for a new ambassador for the very important East Asia market. They already had their pick set in mind: a short girl from Harbin, China, going by the name of Ning Yizhuo, also known by her cute stage name of Ningning. They had already been scouting her for a few months and even sent her some of the brand's clothes and accessories for her to test. It truly seemed like a perfect fit, but they needed a few extra tests.
Ningning was invited to Versace's icon dinner, taking place in Shanghai. They were aware of her potential and wanted to make sure she would sign her contract in her home country of China over her workplace in Korea. But before she was going to attend the dinner, they told her she had a photoshoot to make.
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"Perfect, amazing pose." You were the photographer for Ningning's photoshoot. Her ability to model truly impressed you. Truth be told, while Ningning was only a few days away from turning 21, she had a long baggage of training and had proven to be a true ace. There was no art she wasn't unable to craft, and modeling seemed pretty easy for Harbin's ice princess.
Ningning was so stunning, you felt like your pics weren't doing her beauty justice. The lens of the camera just couldn't capture how beautiful she was. Regardless, the Versace team supervising the photoshoot seemed to have largely approved your pics, even though you felt a bit underwhelmed and thought you could do much better.
The photoshoot was successfully wrapped up, but there were still a few hours before her dinner was going to start. The rest of the Versace staff left, but they instructed you to stay alone with her, giving you instructions on what to do to Ningning next. You then communicated it to her: "They want to make you a global ambassador, but they told me you need to pass some tests before becoming one."
"What kind of tests?" Ningning asked, a little confused but willing to grab such a unique opportunity. "They are, let's say, a little naughty," you replied, still a little embarrassed and not believing the task they gave you. "Naughty? What kind of naughty?" she asked.
"Sit, and I will show you," you told her. Ningning obliged, sitting on the chair where you had just taken pictures of her. Then you gave her the command, "But this time, instead of crossing your legs, I'll need you to spread them." "Ok," Ningning replied, still a little embarrassed as well.
You dove under Ningning's stunning Versace black dress, pulling her panties to the side and unveiling her butterfly-shaped pussy. "What are you doing?" she says, shocked. "It's part of the test; just stay calm," you reply. Ningning feels a bit wierded out at first with your tongue licking her folds, which are just as pretty as the rest of her body, but slowly eases up as you continue to move under her dress and touch her thighs.
"Get up, take your panties off, and go to the mirror," you tell Ningning, who obliges. You place a gag in her little mouth as Ningning faces the mirror. "Versace's next Global Ambassador is right here; she only needs to pass this test and be a good girl to me," you tease her, giving Ningning a massage right at her boob area with her dress still on. "You're gonna need new makeup for the dinner; this one is going to be ruined soon," you threaten her. Ningning looks a little scared but also very excited, wondering what is coming next.
You reach under Ningning's dress and start fingering her pussy nice and slowly. Even with the gag in her mouth, you can still hear her moaning nasally. "Shhhh," you ask her not to moan that much as your right hand now pinches her tits while the left one remains working on Ningning's pussy. "Your moans are so classy, I think you're a perfect fit for the brand," you tell Ningning as you put extra heat in her pussy, making her knee bend a little.
You pinch Ningning's pussy lips. "They look like wings from a butterfly," you say as you spread them out, and they get a lot of your attention. You then lift Ningning's arms up and turn her around, looking at her perfect doll face as you start licking her perfect and clean armpits. Every inch of her body is perfect, indeed. You give Ningning's right armpit some hard licks. "Oh shit," she says under the mouth gag as you search towards her most sensitive zones.
You never take your attention out of Ningning's pussy, fingering it harder, which makes her moan louder. "You look like such a great fuckdoll," you tell her as you now move to her left armpit, with a pair of fingers now penetrating inside her pussy. You aggressively lick her pits before lowering her bra straps, unveling Ningning's soft and ripe tits, which you promptly suck like a baby. 
"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH OHHHHHHHHHHH~," Ningning lets out many high note moans as you move fast between her pair of boobs while putting lots of heat inside her pussy, as you know, with three fingers penetrating her vagina, leading her to scream endlessly. As you finish the finger-fucking session, Ningning rests her head against the mirror, drained by your overstimulation. You take your hands out of her pussy and let her juices pour right into her mouth, but only teasing her as it's still covered by the gag. Instead, you put your hand inside your own mouth and taste them, following it with a torrid kiss on Ningning's covered mouth.
"Whore, whore," you keep repeating to Ningning as you spit on her tits and slowly move down her body, lifting her dress and ducking your head under her pussy, licking it and sniffing it as hard as you can. She smells really good; to a point, it sends you to the heavens. Your sloppy tongue spits all over her folds as Ningning lowers her head to watch you eat her out from up top. "That clit is so fucking hard already," you tell her, as queefing noises come out of her pussy.
You spit on Ningning's pussy as you finish your cunt-eating session, turning her around and pinning her against the mirror, already with a new target in sight as you start tonguing her asshole. Just like with her pussy, you're impressed by its cleanliness. Class, etiquette, and hygiene—Ningning seems to indeed check all the boxes for Versace. Your mouth feasts on Ningning's anus as she continues to moan like a whore, filling the mirror with the steam of her breath.
Ningning's asshole is so tight, tastes so good, and has such a great smell that it makes you go feral. You bark like a dog as you move your tongue up and down her anal folds. Her moans are all you need to know why she's so well regarded as a vocalist, as they are loud, stable, and hit some of the hardest notes. "Whoa," Ningning says as you lift her little body up, grabbing her by the legs and placing her high heels in your thighs as you continue to eat her ass while she clings to the mirror to not fall down.
But as things continue to go on, Ningning takes on a more active role. Sensing how much you like her ass, she starts bouncing it in the air while you tongue it. You quickly try to restablish your dominance, pinning Ningning back while she reaches her hand to now be the one caressing your ass. You sniff her black hair, and just like everything else in her, it smells amazing. "Good girl, I want to hear your beautiful voice," you tell her, taking the gag out of her mouth. Ningning lets out a radiant smile as soon as you do it.
You tongue-kiss Ningning, and she quickly answers, turning her head to face you and interlocking both your lips. You grab her neck a bit, but let her take the initiative as she blows you away with how good of a kisser she is. Is there anything this girl can't do?. "I can't wait to fuck the shit out of you," you whisper in her ear between more and more torrid kisses. You choke Ningning as she fills the mirror with fog from her breath. "Look at this whore," you tell her. "Perfect to get pounded until she gets her global ambassador title," you continue as you spit on the mirror, leading Ningning to put her tongue out and lick it immediately. More kisses ensue. Good god, just Ningning's tongue is already sending shockwaves all over your body. You wonder what's going to happen when you actually start fucking her.
Your belt gets unhooked in a snap, and your urge to have Ningning, please, takes your already throbbing cock to the next level. You tie your belt to Ningning's neck and tell her, "You're my pet now.". "Yes, be my owner, and I'll be your fucking bitch," she says. "Then get on your knees," you reply as you take your pants off, and your hard cock immediately springs out of them. Ningning doesn't need any commands, as she already starts licking the sides of your shaft before inserting that throbbing meat in her mouth.
Ningning can't stop moaning even while sucking cock, as she also imprints her long nails all over your crotch. You respond by choking her a little bit more with your belt. Ningning pins her head against the mirror and starts sucking you off with her hands behind her back. She was truly like those A+ students who can ace any evaluation you throw at them. "You like it?" you asked her. "Yes, I fucking love it; it's so meaty and tastes so fucking good," she replied.
"Open your mouth; let me see how much you love it," you ask Ningning, who quickly follows. At first, you barely put half of your shaft in before shoving your full length inside Ningning's tiny gloryhole. "This one will go so deep I'll make you cry," you bragged, but Ningning resisted, instead engulfing your whole sword down her throat. You kept forcing it, but it took a long time before she finally gagged.
"So that's how I assume you already do your throat training," you mocked her. "I wanna see you cry like a whore," you kept going, but Ningning was insanely strong. You knew you needed much more to break the ice princess than shoving a girthy microphone down her throat. You sloppily fucked Ningning's face to get your cock wetter, but she barely bulged except for a couple gags. Even after pressing your whole weight against her face and shoving your balls inside her mouth as well, she still stayed put against your attacks. Ningning was a good fuckdoll, but she was no pushover.
"Bite me," you asked Ningning, who left a huge mark in your left hand with her teeth. Ningning barked as she bit you as hard as she could, like an untamed pet who doesn't have any owners. Her face was that of a girl who would do anything to become the next Versace girl, and you knew it. You had to slap her in the face to prevent your order from backfiring and have her leave your fingers bleeding.
"So now you're crying," you told Ningning as you saw tears flow down her eyes following a few slaps you gave her doll-esque face. "Should have done it earlier," you reprimanded her as you grabbed her by the neck and sat on top of her before switching back to romantic kisses and giving her tits a little caressing. That didn't last long, though, as you grabbed Ningning by the hair and dragged her down the floor on her knees like your pet, making her fall down. As soon as she did, you spanked her ass. "Bad whore," you said. "You need to be punished.".
You placed your fingers on both of Ningning's bottom holes, as your index and middle fingers penetrated her pussy while your thumb penetrated her asshole. "You know what? There is something much better to do," you say as you put your cock on Ningning's pussy in one go. "AHHHHHHH. AHHHHHH. AHHHHH," she immediately screams as you pin her body to the floor, going rough on her but at the same time very passionate, as you kiss Ningning to the rhythm of your pumps inside her vagina.
"Holy shit, you fuck my pussy so good, oh God," Ningning praises you. But truth be told, she's the one who deserves all the praise. You just go hard because you know she can take it, and holy shit she does it like a pro. You thurst full speed in and out of it, and Ningning loves every second of it, but especially every inch of it stratching her out. As you finish the first round of fucking her beautiful butterfly pussy, you give her ass a tap and leave her lying on the floor, staring at her sexy fuckholes.
Ningning gets up and crawls in your direction. The hard floor is nothing for someone who is always banging those strong knees on dance practices every day. You sit on the floor as well, as she starts taking your shoes off. As soon as she does, you nearly kick her in the face; her reflexes save her from it. In fact, you wanted to make her sniff your dirty socks as punishment, and soon enough, she did. You go even further, shoving your toes into Ningning's whore mouth. "I want to see if you can sing with those now," you laugh.
As Ningning takes your sock off, she ends up falling for your trap, with you tying them around her mouth. "Shut the fuck off and obey your master," you say as you kiss her with your socks in her mouth, before spitting on her face and then putting the other sock inside her hole. "Are you my pet?" you ask. Ningning just nods positively. You continue to tie her up, as now you fully wrap your belt around her neck.
You plow Ningning's pussy from behind as she tries to scream even with her mouth completely shut off. Her nipples scrape the floor as they bounce each time you pound her. "Shut up, little cunt," you tell her as you dive her head to the floor. But Ningning is incapable of obeying. Her mouth was born to sing, and she does it a lot, even while getting stretched out by a big, meaty cock while pinned to the floor. "Fucking whore, fucking whore," you repeat as you remove one of the socks and now try to fuck her mouth with the other sock still inside it, stretching Ningning's tight singing hole to the maximum.
As you free Ningning's mouth, you keep spitting on her. This time, you try to tame her by shoving your balls in her mouth, but she takes it with no issue, wrapping her tongue all over them. "If you like to use that tongue so much than eat my asshole," you order to her. Ningning dives her mouth into your dirty anus as you masturbate yourself watching her lick it clean. " Finally acting like a good whore, cleaning your photographer's asshole," you "praise" her.
You lock Ningning's head around your neck, making her sniff your butthole even harder. Despite your sweatiness and dirtiness, she keeps it cool and continues to lick it. You try to make it harder on her as you jiggle your ass all over her face. "Now you're the dirty whore I wanted," you say, but that only leads to Ningning sticking her tongue even deeper in your anus.
You get up and grab her hair once again, dragging your little pet towards the chair where Ningning once sat like a queen on her throne. This time, however, she kneels on it with her ass up as you spank her again. You lick her butthole as Ningning spreads her legs a little on the chair. "FUUUUUCK," she moans as you stick your middle finger up her tight butthole. While you may try to treat Ningning like a useless whore, the truth is that you in fact worship her, as you literally turn into her ass kisser, giving her tiny little ring kiss after kiss and praising its tightness.
"Let me get in there," you say as your finger and mouth are soon replaced by something much bigger as you grab Ningning's cheeks and start fucking her ass. She moans like she usually does, even better now with no restraints in her mouth. Her anus is so tight that after a few pumps, you have to pull it out and then struggle to come back as you keep missing it. Ningning has to come to your aid as she lifts her left leg to give you an easy entrance to her asshole.
Ningning feels the burn as you push deeper into her tiny bumhole, but her eyes are full of lust, and she keeps telling you to push harder. "Fuck, you're so fucking tight in there," you tell her as she moans close to your face. You let Ningning close her legs and wrap your cock like a hot dog sausage as she moves her hips up and down your shaft for you to watch before you surprise her with the deepest insertion yet.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH OH MY GOOOOODDDDDDDDDDD,"  Ningning screams to the top of your lungs. This is truly the first time you see her voice crack. You punish her by going even deeper and giving her already red face an extra spank, as she starts begging for God at each pump you give deep inside her asshole. "FUCKKKKKKK. AHHHHHHH. YESSS!" she continues to scream. She's been told to be like this, always expressing her emotions through her voice.
"Oh shit, the way you scream is so sexy," you tell her, pushing her head closer to yours as you keep stretching her ass. Ningning just can't stop. At this point, you are just relieved that you decided to have the photoshoot in a more isolated building, because otherwise thousands of people would hear her screaming.
"I fucking love you; I want to fuck you until you lose your voice," you tell Ningning as you keep going harder and harder in her butthole. "Scream for me, you fucking bitch," you tell her as you spank her ass five consecutive times. Ningning instead opts for her sexy moans before she has to cling onto the chair as you keep shaking it left and right.
"Bad girl," you tell Ningning as you put her on her knees. She jiggles her ass and masturbates your pole before you insert it back deep in her hole, moaning a lot in between. "Don't move," you demand as you spank her now completely red butt, and she rests her head on the top of the chair. "Say you're my toy," you demand of her. "I'm your toy; I'm your toy," she repeats using her aegyo voice. "Then feel that cock," you tell her, grabbing her ass and pumping inside Ningning's anus slowly and deeply. You hit the perfect spots as she beautifully moans.
You grab Ningning by the belt around her neck, treating her like she is your dog. Her face is now redder than her cheeks as she closes her eyes. "Yes, treat me like your toy. AH. AH. AH. FUCKKKKKKK," she keeps saying. "Let me see that face." You push her closer to you as Ningning continues to scream. "Shhhhhh," you tell her, but she ignores your claims for silence, screaming even harder each time you hit deep in her asshole.
You had enough of Ningning screaming and put your belt on her mouth. To no avail. You can only muffle it, but Ningning keeps yelling as if she were at a singing competition. "AHHHHHHHHHH," she yells. You grab Ningning by her arm and keep fucking her hard in the ass; she can't stop screaming. Her legs tremble as she puts her right one in the air, barely able to hold herself with the hard speed of your poundings.
Ningning looks tired as you remove the belt from her mouth. But you are far from done, pushing her little body back to the floor. "Ride me," you demand as you push Ningning back up and sit on the chair where you just obliterated her. "YES. YES. YES!" she screams as she spreads her legs, and you put your cock back in her ass and the belt back in her mouth, trying to resist as you push your big meat up her butthole. "FUCK. Oh God!" she screams, even if it's muffled by the belt.
You free Ningning from the belt as she gets her eyes destroyed, taking the belt off again. "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD!" she instantly screams as you do it. Her little body is very easy to place under a full Nelson, as her legs are now spread at a 120-degree angle, and your arms lock her as you grab Ningning by her head. Ningning has to start fingering herself as you quickly move into stimulating her tits, but never lifting the gas off and fucking her ass every single time.
You have to slow down not to cum as you move an already tired Ningning into the table to the side of the chair, still with your prick inside her ass. She screams as her face stares at the floor while you destroy her tiny hole and mount on top of her as if she were just a useless cow. You have to bring the other chair to rest her head on, as she keeps yelling. Ningning's face turns red after so much screaming, but you shut it once again, this time with her mouth. She is a mess that can only hope that all this rough session is enough for her to become the next Versace girl as you destroy her asshole in a rough prone bone.
"DAMN FUCK!" Ningning screams as you show no mercy towards her, having to push her head against the chair to endure the endless fucking. She pants hard, and her face is now redder than a tomato as your roughness gives way to some passionate kisses. "You're the best girl I've ever fucked," you gently tell her as you put your thumb in her mouth and fully top her, your cock still buried deep in her ass. Ningning never looked so sore, but she also loves how intensely you fuck her.
After a little rest, you come full force to pound her tight ass, this time stomping all over her little doll head. Her butt gets spanked, her tits press against the chair, and she's completely pinned like a submissive whore. "AHHHHHHH FUCK!" she screams once again as you replace your fast thrusts and move to slow but very deep hits inside her butthole, inserting your thick cock balls deep inside her.
"Stay there," you tell Ningning as your rough session ends. She moans and pants as her body stays on the chair. Your spanks turned her fully red, and her legs barely moved. You keep looking at her, pondering your next move, until you decide to once again grab her by the hair. You really like how good it looks, despite how messy she is right now. You're kind and give her some water to drink before feeding her your cock, making a splash inside her mouth. You keep this weird mix of water and sausage, giving Ningning a little more as a reward for sucking it good, despite having her mouth already full.
Ningning bursts the water on your cock as you insert it deep in her throat. Despite all the rough pounding, she can still take a big one in her mouth with ease. Maybe you just haven't broken that doll enough. As you finally empty the bottle and fuck her face a couple times, you two now get on your knees and passionately kiss each other on the floor.
You put your washed cock back on Ningning's tight cunt, letting her do the riding this time. Ningning doesn't look as strong as before, as her bounces initially only get half of your length inside her pussy, but she quickly adjusts to take it deeper despite her very sore hole up top that winks every time she gets to the base of your shaft. You give her butt a little slap, and she answers, increasing the pace. Her screams are now fully back, and despite her tiredness, she still manages not to crack.
"Good girl," you praise Ningning's ride as she slides straight down your pole, then tilts her body down to let you spank her even further. The redder you turn her snowy skin, the better. "I want you to cum all over that cock," you tell her as she steadily bounces on it. After a few screams, Ningning stops and sits with your shaft fully inside her, letting out her orgasmic moans as her pussy clenches all over your meat. Ningning goes insane, making the chair move a lot as she twists and turns while riding your cock.
You give Ningning very passionate kisses and grab her by the waist as she gets closer to you. "I love you, I love you," she says, never stopping her bounce. "Then cum all over me," you demand of her, who screams as her pussy creams your cock with juices. You rest your back on the chair as Ningning is now in a straight position, bouncing on your dick, while you grab her by the belt wrapped around her neck. "Keep going; ride me like a little toy," you tell her. Ningning beautifully moves up and down your shaft as you grab her waist.
You make it harder on Ningning, spanking every inch of her body like she's just a ragdoll. Belly. Pussy. Face. Nothing can escape your heavy hands. But your favorite target are her bouncy tits. "Oh yes," she screams as you land a heavy hit on her boobs before groping them. "Oh my God, what a fucking whore!" you say to her. Ningning moans as you move close to her to give her more kisses. Every time you treat her rough, you compensate, showing how much you love her. And she knows, wrapping her arms around you like a cute girl who only wants to feel loved.
Without ever leaving her pussy, you move the kissing session elsewhere by pushing Ningning back to where she belongs, the cold, hard floor. You top her on a torrid missionary, giving her pussy slow pumps as you continue to interlock your lips with hers. Ningning licks her chops as you press her whole body to the floor and kisses her neck while fucking her passionately, spreading her legs as you deeply mate her, rocking your hips sideways as her moans get more and more out of breath.
Ningning holds her hands against the chair as you now move around her tits, kissing and sucking them multiple times. After a few more kisses in her mouth, you switch to a fast pace as clapping sounds come out every time you pound her pussy. "YES, LIKE THAT, LIKE THAT," she yells as you hit her cunt hard, sticking her tongue out as you spit in her mouth and go back to treat her like a fuckdoll. 
You find some love for her armpits, licking them once more and adding them to your spitting session, but what you like the most is spitting on her face, showing your disapproval of how much of a slut she is. "That fucking cunt is so tight," you tell her as you keep pounding her. Ningning keeps yelling as you pick up the pace, pounding her against the floor like nothing. 
You put her legs up in the air and play with her asshole, going in and out of it to tease her. "YEAH. FUCK!" she screams as you keep doing it before surprising her with fast pumps in her gaped butthole. "Oh yeah, fuck!" Ningning screams as you grab her left thigh. "Open that ass," you demand of her as she spreads her sore cheeks and shows her huge gape. Her holes wink as you go back in, groping her tits, choking her, and treating her roughly as she remains lying on the floor.
Ningning gets obliterated on the floor as you keep fucking her mercilessly. "AHHH!" she yells, her body bouncing at each thrust. You start fingering her pussy and put her upside down. "OH MY GOD. What?" she asks as juices flow out of her wet vagina and her legs tremble, making her scream even further: "FUCKKKKKKK". You apply so much pressure to her pussy she collapses back on the floor, yelling as she orgasms and her body twists and turns. You drag her body across the floor and then massage her tits as she cums.
You put Ningning back upside down to torture her pussy even further, putting all your fingers inside of it and massaging her hole. Ningning lets out a perfect high note as you make her cum, and her hole gets even wetter. You spink her at the floor and turn her dizzy, her only reacting the way she knows best: screams and more screams.
Ningning once again gets fucked hard against the floor, but this time it's her mouth that gets your throbbing cock going in and out of it at full speed. You don't even look at her, just treating her like a bunch of fuckholes that are only there to please your cock. You shut her throat down, having enough of her screams, which come as soon as you free her mouth for a little second. But Ningning wants more, as she sucks your big dick on the floor before you react by sitting your whole weight against her doll face and putting your cock back in her mouth.
"Choke on it, bitch," you tell her as your balls also go inside her mouth. She tries to push up, but you slap her in the face. "I told you to choke on it," you say as you punish her. This time, you drag her by her knees and send her back to the mirror. You two made a mess a while ago. "Look how dirty it is; I think a whore got in there," you say as Ningning pants and licks the mirror. The mouth gag goes back in her mouth as you want her to watch herself get destroyed.
"Shhhhh," you tell her as you get close to her body. Ningning looks into the mirror as she sees your devilish face, ready to fuck her even harder. You wrap your hands around her pussy and then let her wrap your hands around your cock, grinding on it. Soon, her hands are tied behind her back, and she watches herself look like a mess in the mirror.
"Look at you, Versace's next slut," you prank her as your hands go back to massage her butterfly-shaped pussy. Ningning reacts and matches your moves down low, jerking your cock off. "Do you love me?" you ask her as she nods positively. "Now you do. I took it all the way; you should love me. Because what I tell Donatella will be what is going to decide your future with the brand," you say, taking the gag off Ningning's mouth and kissing her passionately as tears flow out of her eyes.
"Don't cry. You're a good girl," you tell her, as she can only pant and massage your cock, nothing else. But she doesn't listen and continues to cry. "I'm going to miss you after you're gone," you tell her. Ningning hasn't looked this emotional since all her hard work paid off and she was selected to debut for Aespa. She loves you too, and she's ready to join the Versace family. "After we are done, I'll think of you every day. We haven't even finished, but I already missed you." You continue to proclaim your love for Ningning, the most beautiful girl you've ever seen.
"I fucking love you, and I'm gonna show it," you say as you pin Ningning back against the mirror and put your cock back in her pussy. Just like earlier, she instinctively holds her hands against it, letting out a crying moan as you insert your cock back in her already used-up hole. You go slow, letting her enjoy each thrust your veiny pole gives her pussy to the fullest. Ningning's tears suddenly turn into a smile as you show your love for her with faster and faster poundings.
"YES. YES. YES. YES. YES. YES." she wholeheartedly approves as you fuck her in front of the mirror, her high heels stomping the floor each time you hit deep in her pussy. "You're mine," you tell her as she closes her eyes and goes back to her beautiful screams, the image of her doing it in the mirror looking amazing. You keep telling Ningning she's yours as you grab her arms and place them behind her back, with her just trying to keep her balance on top of her heels.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" Ningning screams the hardest as you treat her like a sex doll, fucking her like there is no tomorrow. Her body shakes, and she almost falls down. As soon as you stop, you turn her around and kiss her instantly. But you're very opportunistic, taking advantage of her passion and lust to drop her back to the floor like a ragdoll. "Lick your master's feet if you really love me," you tell her as your fetishes get sicker and sicker, and Ningning obliges, her body lying back on the hard floor as she worships your toes.
You once again do your favorite thing for her: drag her tiny body across the floor by her pretty hair. Ningning looks weaker than ever; you now have full control over her. You finally take her heels off, taking your turn to worship her feet. Amazingly, just like everything in her, they smell like roses. Ningning gets so excited that she shoves her left foot in your mouth, and you don't punish her for it; the deeper the better.
You wrap Ningning's legs around your neck and draw her body close to yours as she slides on the floor. You too continue to hotly kiss each other as she slides further and puts your cock back in her pussy, her ass frictioning against the floor as she moves up and down your shaft while giving little sexy out-of-breath moans to your face.
Suddenly, you take back control and hump your ass against the floor to fuck her. "Oh yes, oh yes," Ningning approves, as she has now nearly lost her voice. She no longer screams, only whispers. As you grab her neck, you give her more declarations of love while never losing sight of her tight pussy. "I love you, my little butterfly," you tell her as you wrap your arms around her leg and pound her pussy faster. As Ningning regains her strength to yell, you put your arms in her mouth. "Bite them if you love me," you demand. And she does all that while still letting out her classic muffled screams.
Ningning looks completely wasted and exhausted as she collapses on the floor. But she still wants your cock as she wraps her feet around your shaft and uses them to jerk you off. What a naughty girl. She just holds herself to the chair's legs and extends her body on the floor, moving those beautiful feet up and down that big cock. You just enjoy the perfect view of her tiny naked body while she does it, holding the urge not to shoot your cum all over it as her little footjob massage puts you on the edge.
"Fuck, yes," you approve of Ningning's footjob. But you need not lose sight of her as you push her back close to you and put her in a spooning position. "Come here," you tell her. Ningning's tongue is completely out of her mouth, indicating how tired she is. Her efforts to gasp for air make her tits move a lot as you just give her pussy some slow and deep pumps, waiting for her to recover.
"Finish inside me, please," Ningning begs as you lift her left leg and pound her wide open pussy. She starts cooing like a baby at each thrust you give her, harder and harder poundings. Ningning's pussy clenches all over your cock as she waits for you to coat her insides with cum. After nearly an hour of fucking this ice-cold beauty, you're now tired too, taking some pauses to hiss her and look at her beautiful but now super messy face.
You caress Ningning as tears of joy flow out of her eyes, tenderly placing your hands and running them over her now ultra-red skin. You go very slowly, letting her kisses heat you up. As you regain your strength to fuck her hard, she senses you getting closer: "YES, YES, YES, PLEASE CUM ALL OVER MY PUSSY," she screams. You detach a little from Ningning to take one final look at her perfect body as you grab her legs and attack her pussy at full speed.
"OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD," Ningning screams as her vaginal walls smash your cock, soon leading to your pulsating member finally giving in and filling her pussy to the brim. Her body shakes on the floor as your cum flows out of her hole, and both of you collapse after such an exhilarating hour of intense sex, staying there for a couple seconds. As Ningning finally manages to go back on her knees, you feed your still-hard cock into her mouth, balls deep. Her warm mouth and your insatiable desire for her make it explode again, filling her throat with your warm load as well. Ningning gets fully emotional and cries as you hug her and kiss her cum-filled mouth for one last time, which you hope isn't the last.
"Welcome to the Versace family, Ningning. But even better, welcome to my world," you tell her as the security staff tells you to leave. "Your time is up," they tell you.
Ningning takes a long shower and gets ready for the dinner. It goes perfectly. She leaves an amazing impression on the whole Versace family. They know what she did in that room. You have already briefed them. But Ningning is not aware of it.
The months go by. Versace gets even closer to her during Aespa's comeback, with her constantly wearing their clothes. But her promotion seems to have never come. That is, until she receives a notification from Donatella herself, telling Ningning she'll be their next global ambassador.
After so much effort, Ningning is finally one of the Versace superestars, and as she arrives at Milan Fashion Week, a familiar face is there to greet her.
"Meet your new personal photographer, Ningning. Well, I think you know him already."
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huggingkoalas · 2 months
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ride me it
pairings natasha romanoff x fem!reader
synopsis riding a motorcycle should be similar to riding her face, right?
word count 1.8k
warnings smut, use of vibrators (using a literal motorcycle), mentions of ‘exhibitionist’ kink, mentions/use of ‘mommy’ kink, pet names, teasing, cursing, established relationship, bottom!reader, top!natasha
author’s note am i going absolutely feral over nat's motorcycle scenes in age of ultron and black widow? yessir :P + this fic is inspired by this tiktok edit of nat too <3
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“Will you teach me how to ride, Nat?” You asked, stopping your gentle scratches on her scalp.
Natasha, lying on the bed with her head on your lap, turned her attention from the movie playing on the television to you. Amused, she raised her eyebrows, her infamous smirk on her lips. “Are you talking about my face?”
You slapped her hard on the arm and shook your head in amusement. “I meant the motorcycle, you weirdo.” 
“Ouch, that hurts.” Natasha hissed with a pout on her face. 
Both you and Natasha knew she could handle physical pain since she was literally the Black Widow. Even if she didn’t have superpowers like Thor and the Hulk, she was still one of the most powerful women in the world. Fighting the desire to roll your eyes, you played along with her antics. You rubbed her arm, eyes twinkling in faux pity while mouthing ‘sorry’. 
“I read the mission reports everyone sent from the Ultron Offensive mission. I had no idea you knew how to ride a motorcycle.” You remarked, continuing your featherlight strokes along her hair. You wish you were there that day. If you witnessed Natasha riding a motorcycle, skillfully navigating through traffic and avoiding danger, you’d be drooling right away.
“I guess it just never came up. I wouldn’t mind teaching you, though. It would be hot if you rode something other than my face.” Natasha teased.
“Nat!” Your cheeks turned bright red from her comment. “I-I mean, you’ll have to teach me the basics first, though. I don’t think I’m ready to drive one yet.”
The thought of driving a fast vehicle sent shivers down your spine. Despite feeling scared, you wanted to impress your girlfriend. Maybe if you tried something dangerous, like learning how to ride a motorcycle, she wouldn’t keep calling you a scaredy cat.
“I can teach you the basics now.” She replied, removing her head from your lap and sitting up.
“N-Now? You sure?” You hesitated. “I mean, sure, yeah, okay.”
You didn’t think she’d teach you how to ride a motorcycle now, but you weren’t complaining. Natasha intertwined your fingers with yours, dragging you to the garage quickly. 
You could see the excitement in her eyes as she led you to the garage. The green in her eyes was brighter than usual, and you couldn’t help an endearing smile appearing on your face. Seeing this side of her made your heart melt. Sometimes, she reminded you of a puppy.
Your eyes adjusted to the amount of sunlight flittering through the ceiling-to-floor windows once you reached the garage. It was your first time here, and the spaciousness of the area amazed you. Numerous cars, including SUVs and Humvees, were lined neatly side-by-side. Your gaze immediately spotted the familiar black and red motorcycle you had read in her mission report.
“What’s its model again?” You asked, walking to the motorcycle and running your fingertips along the tank cover before resting your palm on the leather seat.
“It’s a Harley-Davidson LiveWire.” Natasha walked up behind you, resting her hands on your hips. “It’s brand new. The motorcycle from the mission got totalled, so Fury and Stark had to buy me another one.”
“Yeah, I know. I had to deal with financial reports afterwards. It’s... really expensive.” You turned your head to look up at her, leaning up to kiss the tip of her nose. “Only the best motorcycle for the best woman in the world.”
“Enough compliments or I’m bringing you to my room and showing you how much you’re the best woman all night.” Natasha husked, her teeth tugging at your earlobe. Her hot breath whispered in your ear, making you weak to your knees.
She released herself from behind you, her famous smirk on her face as she noticed your flustered state. “Alright, get on the motorcycle.” She said, her voice an octave lower than usual. You looked at Natasha, and she was looking at you with darkened eyes. 
You both knew what that tone meant. It was the tone she would use on you when you were writhing on her sheets, moaning her name over and over again as she brought you to multiple orgasms. Both of you knew what the tone did to you. You’d willingly get on your knees and do anything she asked if she used that sultry voice again.
Clearing your throat to brush your mind off the filthy thoughts your brain had come up with, you inquired. “Won’t it tip over if I get on it?”
Natasha lets out a short laugh as you shoot her a nervous look. There’s a mixture of amusement and something else entirely in her green eyes. You're not sure. She’s making you even more nervous than you already are.
“See that little stick on the side propping up the bike?” With a nod of your head, she points to the black pedal holding the vehicle up. “That’s a kickstand. The bike doesn’t magically defy gravity, and it certainly doesn’t fly.”
You wanted to wipe the smug grin off Natasha’s face. Normally you’d make a snarky remark now, but instead, you let her off with a shrug.
“I promise to catch you if, for some reason, the kickstand doesn’t do its job, detka (baby).” The use of the pet name relaxes you a bit, and you nod your head.
“Fine, I trust you. Is there... A specific way to get on it?” You asked.
“Just mount it, lyubov’ (love). It’s the same as riding on my face.” Natasha replied in a teasing tone. Your head snaps towards her, and your cheeks warm. Her arms are crossed, and her biceps are clearly visible as she wears a black sleeveless sweater. You know you won’t survive the rest of the lesson if she acts (and looks) like this.
You grab the handles and slowly swing one leg over the seat. Your feet barely touch the ground, and you’re tiptoeing while sitting on the vehicle. 
“I think the motorcycle is too tall for me.” You looked at her with a frown.
Natasha expertly climbs onto the bike behind you. “Shortie.” She taunts.
“Careful!” You exclaimed, holding onto the handlebars as the bike tilted left and right due to her movement.
You shift in your seat, getting used to the weird position. The motorcycle seemed larger between your thighs. Furthermore, there were a bunch of pedals, levers, and buttons. You were familiar with what the side mirrors do, but you were not sure what everything else does.
Your heart pounded in your ears. The seat slope caused Natasha's body to press up against you. You shudder slightly as you feel her breasts press up against your back. You tried to make yourself comfortable, but her breath against the back of your neck sent a small shiver down to your core. 
“You’re so tense, detka (baby). Do I make you nervous?” She rests her chin on your shoulder, her hands running down your arms to take your hand in hers while you hold the handlebar.
“You’re sleeping on the couch if you don’t shut up right now, Nat.” You replied, gritting your teeth. As much as you liked her relentless teasing, the heightened adrenaline and fear in your body spiked your anxiousness.
“You’re so cute when you’re angry, lyubov’ (love). Let’s start the lesson then.” Natasha said, turning her attention back to the task at hand. 
She turned the key in the ignition on. The rumbling of the motor startled you as the engine started to thrum softly beneath you.
“I’ll put it on neutral since you’re not driving.” She added.
You nodded your head. You had a license to drive a car, so you knew some driving language. But even though you had experience driving a car, you knew that riding a motorcycle was something completely different. You could feel your heart racing and your grip on the handlebars trembling slightly.
“The lever above the left handle is the clutch lever. The one on the right is the lever for the front brake.” Natasha continued, showing and explaining the parts and their functions.
You couldn't concentrate. The vibration of the engine below you and the slight vibration of the seat had your attention instead. You pursed your lips and nodded as you pretended to understand what she was teaching you.
Closing your eyes for a moment, your breath caught in your throat as Natasha’s lips touch the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. “Are you listening to me?” She murmured against your skin.
You pursed your lips and speak shakily. “Y-Yes.”
Natasha smirked as she watched your face, she could clearly see that your mind was somewhere else entirely, exactly where she wanted it to be. “I can make you feel even better...”
“This is the throttle handle that gasses the motor.“ She taps a finger on the right handle. She slowly turns the handle towards you, her wrist applying pressure, and the engine revs louder.
“Shit, Nat-” You gasp out loud, the vibrations beneath you getting stronger the more she turns the handle. You feel even more wetness gathering in your panties.
“Nat,” You whimpered with desperation. “Please, I..I-”
You arch your body against her and throw your head back against her shoulder, enjoying the vibrations from the seat. Natasha almost moans at the sight of you aching for her. She gently pulls your shirt off, throwing it behind her. The cold air sends goosebumps down your arm and her left hand rests on your thigh, squeezing and kneading your clothed thigh.
“Shh... Quiet. You don’t want someone to walk on us like this, do you?” She warns you.
Your lungs are struggling for air as you gasp. Shame and desire course through your veins at the thought of someone catching the both of you in this position. You bite your bottom lip, biting it hard you think it might bleed. 
“Want me to go faster?” She asks in a sultry voice. Without waiting for your response, she twists the handle down quickly, the seat pulsating quickly and louder.
Your torso jolts forward and you can’t stop the moan that leaves the back of your throat. Your panties and pants are sticking to you uncomfortably as the leather seat vibrates harshly against your folds. You’re rutting down onto the seat desperately, aching for release. 
“I-I’m close, Nat, don’t stop, please-” You somehow manage to plead through the haze.
You moan loudly as she revs the engine loudly once more, and you scream ‘mommy’ as you orgasm, stars blinding your eyes as your body shakes with bliss. Your arousal sticks to your thighs and pools onto the leather seat below you as you come down from your high.
Natasha switches off the ignition once you finish tumbling over the edge. The vibration and the sounds from the motorcycle quiet down, and all you can hear is your increased heartbeat and the silence of the garage. You feel your legs and body twitch slightly from the orgasm. 
You turned your head towards her, seeing a shit-eating grin on her face. “Wow, ‘Mommy’, huh? That’s a first.” She teased, licking her lips. “I’ll have so much fun cleaning the bike later.”
You groaned, hiding your face in her neck. “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.” 
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peachesofteal · 4 months
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Simple Math / Part Six
Simple Math masterlist
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Ghost/Soap/female reader 4k words - AO3 Warnings - tags: 18+ MDNI. No smut but this fic contains mature themes. Nurse reader, hospital setting, medical inaccuracies. Reference to past domestic violence. Angst. Alcohol. Crying, anxiety, panic. Johnny in distress. Johnny is still a menace. Soft dads. POV switches. Note: Safe sleep for infants always. I do not endorse sleeping with your baby in your bed. This is a fic not real life. Simon does some digging.
“Shhh now, ye’re alright.”
Johnny coos, Penny cradled up to his chest. He’s not wearing a shirt, eyes still half sealed shut with sleep, and she squalls in his arms, screaming as loud as her little lungs will allow. “What is it, mah wee lamb? Are ye hungry? Do ye need a change?” He checks her nappy, efficiently looking for a mess or something to clean up and is nearly disappointed when he finds her still dry. If it’s not her nappy, then maybe her stomach? Could she be hungry again? He thumbs through the notes on his phone to find Simon’s last entry: 23:20 – 50 ML. 
That was only an hour ago. 
He frowns, walking in a circle, bouncing her gently, trying to settle her back to sleep. She’s so tiny, and still has grown so much in just the short time since they brought her home. It amazes him. It terrifies him. 
“What is it, sweet bairn? What’s got ye all upset?” He touches his lips to softest skin he’s ever felt, his thumb trying to swipe away the tracks of tears on her cheeks. “Please dinnae cry. I-“ 
“You okay?” Simon clears his throat behind him, and Johnny tenses. 
“We’re fine. Ye’re supposed to be sleepin’.” 
“Heard the two of you in here fussing. Thought I could help.” Simon’s trying to be supportive, trying to be a good partner, Johnny knows, but all he can feel is irritation, a defensive reaction making his hackles rise. 
It’s not fair. He’s so good at it. He’s a natural. And Johnny… Johnny feels like he’s failing his own kid, when she’s not even a month old yet. 
“I dinnae need-“ 
“Hey.” Simon touches his elbow, and then his chin, tilting his face upwards. “I know you don’t, love. You’re doing a great job. It’s not your fault she’s having a rough go.” He soothes him, fingers kneading into the top of his spine, squeezing the nape of his neck and pulling him into his arms. Penny is still crying, but softer now, a low-pitched tone of misery that makes his heart ache, and he feels so overwhelmed, so helpless, staring down at her as she tries desperately to tell him what's wrong, the only way she knows how. He rests his cheek against Simon’s chest, melting into his hold, letting him wrap his arms all way around his waist. 
“She hates me.” Johnny grumbles, and Simon presses his mouth to Johnny’s temple in short, succinct kisses. 
“She doesn’t. She’s brand new. She can’t hate anything, yet, and certainly not her Da.” He strokes her cheek. “Let’s bring her to bed, see if we can get her down and then one of us can put her back in the crib, alright?” Johnny sighs. 
“Alright.” 
“What’re you doing after this?”
“Going to bed?” What else would you be doing?
“I’m thinking about going to Jackie’s for a drink… wanna come?” Nia untucks her scrubs, pulling the top up over her head.
“Jackie’s, huh?” You chew on your lip. You shouldn’t. You really, really shouldn’t. But… Jackie’s is a dive. It’s dark, and dingy, with black walls, black floors, no window in sight. And... it’s a hospital haunt. 
“It’s my birthday.” She whispers, casting a glance around the rest of the room. “I’m not… it’s not a thing, I just want to go, have a few to celebrate.” You take a deep breath. “Please?” She tacks on at the end, and your shoulders dip down in defeat.
“Okay. One. And then I gotta go.”
“Yes!” She cheers, excitement smashing her palms together.
Nothing like a seven am beer. 
Jackie’s is a distinct place. It’s one of the only twenty-four-hour liquor licenses left in the city, or so you’ve been told, and has been frequented by hospital staff for decades. It’s dart boards and dark wood floors, cheap beer and rail vodka, a worn to hell pool table, and an old, disabled juke box that someone broke intentionally, years ago. It’s an institution, and reminds you of some old places you used to frequent, when you weren’t… who you are now. Years ago, before, you used to love a good dive bar. Didn’t mind the way the floor stuck to your feet, and you considered yourself nearly tactical at darts. It was a source of pride, the accuracy, the rate at which you could make a bullseye, even when you were a few sheets to the wind.
“Coulda been a surgeon.” You’d tease, a smirk growing across your boyfriend’s face.
“If you were a surgeon, sugar, who’d be at home waitin’ for me after work?” He’d push back, coating the warning in an adoration, giving whoever was undoubtedly watching a slick smile before snaking an arm around your waist and tugging you close. “You don’t need to be surgeon. You don’t even need to work. You have me.” 
You thought you knew, then. Knew how to handle it, how to navigate the ever-present, ever-growing threat… but you were wrong.
You were so, so wrong.
“So, heard there’s a spot opening up on days.” Nia chucks her purse at the bar top, climbing onto the stool next to you. “You’ve got the seniority… you givin’ it any thought?” The bartender walks by with a hello, and you nod at him.
“Old Speck please. And no, I like nights.” She raises an eyebrow.
“Didn’t know Americans liked Old Speck.”
“We have it in the states. I didn’t live under a rock.” You quip, and she laughs before ordering her own poison, a choice that makes your own eyebrows shoot up in question. “Vodka on the rocks?”
“I’m a straight to the point kind of girl.” She explains. “So, no days?”
“No days. You?”
“I might. Night shift is kicking my ass.” She complains. “Don’t even know what day it is half the time. My rhythm is off.”
“You need like, at least six months to fully adjust.” You put a note down in exchange for your beer, and then the bartender scuttles away, distracted by some insistent woman at the other end of the bar.
“Six months?!” You’re about to launch into your spiel about how it’s not that bad when your phone vibrates in your pocket.
>Make it home from work alright? 
>It’s Johnny, by the way :) 
The two texts are the start of a new group chat with your number, Johnny’s number and the number you put in your contacts just yesterday… Simon’s. Your head jerks back on instinct, confused.
“You okay?” Nia asks, and you nod.
“Yeah, fine just…uh-“ She peeks over your arm, and giggles.
“Is that your patient? Two sixty-eight?”
“What?”
“Your patient. The military hottie. The one that’s always lookin’ at your bum.” Your face burns, and she tsks. “Ah, don’t be embarrassed. He’s smokin’. Wish he looked at me the way he looks at you.” You’re surprised at the flare of irritation that starts up in your stomach at her, a hot streak of jealously simmering there, burning away indignantly. “Aren’t they… I mean… isn’t the scary mask guy his partner?” He’s not scary, you scowl inwardly. He’s just… protective. The butterflies in your stomach startle, and you drift back to last night, in the stairwell, in the car.
“You’re doing great, sweetheart.” 
“If you ever need anything, Johnny and I… we’re here.” 
Nia says your name, dragging you back to earth, and you shrug. “Yes… they… they’re together. It’s just been hard on them, so I think there’s a bit of an attachment growing there. You know, it’s not unusual.” She bites her lip, mouth pushing up into a smile.
“They’re quite fit. Wouldn’t mind if they formed an attachment to me.” She pauses, delicately sucking her gasoline on ice up through a straw. “Gonna text him back?”
“Nia.” You hiss, and she barks out a laugh.
“Oh, come on, just a bit of fun. I don’t mean anything by it.”
“It’s not appropriate.” You remind her, and she rolls her eyes.
“You’re such a stick in the mud sometimes. Remember when Marshall was fucking his brain cancer girl? Now that, was not appropriate.” You do remember- Marshall’s sudden absence, the whispering, the HR investigation that spanned weeks, interviews with everyone on the floor.
Your beer goes sour in your stomach.
“I gotta get home.” You wrap an arm around her shoulder with a squeeze and a whisper. “Happy Birthday.” You feel bad for abandoning her, and maybe in another life you might even consider her a friend, but you’re already too exposed here as it is, and staying any longer would be too indulgent- not to mention, incredibly stupid.
You pass another nurse on the way out and him know that Nia’s at the bar, alleviating your guilt just a tad before you hike up your hood and make a beeline for the train.
By the time you get back to your hotel room, get showered, and collapse on top of the far too big bed, it’s nearly been an hour. You plug your phone in, unlocking the screen to flick on do not disturb, and realize the group message is still open, cursor blinking, waiting for your response.
It’s fine. You can tell you got home okay, that’s not crossing any lines. 
>Yeah, just got settled for bed. See you later!
A text from Simon chimes back within a minute, and you squint at it, one eye open.
>Get some rest.  
The floor is dead silent at the beginning of your shift.
Nothing beeps or whines or cries, no noise echoes around the corner to where you’re scrolling through Johnny’s chart, getting caught up on his day, triple checking that his levels and vitals are all within normal range. He passed his follow up for the liver procedure with flying colors, and the relief you feel is not unexpected, the weight of worry lifting free from your shoulders without another thought.
He’s fine, he’s better than fine, he’s… too healthy for the ICU.
Reality hits you like a truck, and you stop short, sneakers squeaking along the floor.
He won’t be your patient anymore. 
He won’t… be your patient anymore. 
The thought twists you into a mess of complicated emotions. A snarled, tangled viper's nest of unknowns, uncertainties, things you're desperately trying to tuck back behind your heart, hide them away so no one, not even yourself, can see them.
This is a good thing. This is what you want. Stable patients, on their way to recovery. 
So, you’ll miss them, that’s okay. There’s a little bit attachment, that’s alright. 
This is the best case scenario. You’re making a mess of things. You’re getting too involved with your patient and his family. You let Simon drive you home, for fucks sake. 
They’re getting confused, because you’re the caretaker. It happens all the time. As soon as Johnny steps down, they’ll forget all about you. 
You’re risking too much. You’re risking their safety, their child’s safety, your own. 
It’s for the best. 
You put your best work smile on when you approach his room, pulling as much air into your lungs as you can manage.
Focus on your job. Your patient. You’re a professional. 
Johnny is alone. No Simon, no visitors, nobody keeping him company. It’s a strange sight, and he looks almost uncomfortable, creased brow lowered down over his eyes. That’s… odd. Worse, there’s a heaviness in his gaze, sadness pulling his mouth downwards, usual playful demeanor nowhere in sight. Even sad, he’s a marvel, and every day, he gets stronger, he gets healthier, he gets closer to leaving this room, amazing you with his tenacity, his will. 
“Hey, you on your own tonight?” You casually knock on the door frame, and then pull it shut behind you, cocking your head.
“Aye.” He’s sullen, his despair tugging you closer to the bed, an urge to try to comfort him too strong to deny. 
“How are you feeling?” You try the subtle question, hoping he'll be forthcoming, and you keep yourself composed as you wait for his answer. 
“’m alright.” You tab through his chart, glancing it over once more, if only to assuage your own anxieties, and then tap into his vitals. Everything looks good, last labs look great… so what’s going on? 
“Just alright?” His fingers flex in the blanket, tanned skin against white linen, picking at fibers and threads, unable to hold himself still. He looks like he’s going to burst open at the seams, explode inside this room, a ticking time bomb, just waiting for the end of the countdown.
A tear tracks down his cheek. “Johnny?” You step closer, close enough so your fingers graze his, trying to delicately let him know, you’re here. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. What’s going on?” The monitor beeps steadily in the silence, his chest depresses with a gust of air.
“It’s… it’s nothin’ bun. I’m jus’… I’m havin’ a bad day.”
“Want to talk about it? I hear I’m a pretty good listener.” You encourage, and his face twists.
“No, I- Ach. Aye, alright.” He shifts in the bed, and you hover in case he needs help, but he waves you away. “It’s… bein’ in here. I want to be wi’ my family. Penny turned one, before I left for this assignment. Was only supposed to be two weeks tops, but then it turned into a month, then two. And now, I’m home… but ’m not really home, and I-“ His voice cracks, raw thread of agonized emotion separating his words, and he swallows it, forcing it back. “I’m blown to bits and cannae even see my own daughter. I’m missin’ out on everything.” Oh, Johnny. Your heart is heavy, and it hurts for him, bleeds as he wipes his face. 
“You’re not blown to bits, just a little banged up.” You give him a soft smile, and when he shakes his head, your fingers find his on instinct. You don’t even stop to second guess yourself, fully sinking into the contact with a gentle squeeze. “Hey, look at me.” His lashes are wet, sticky with tears, and he sniffles. “You’re making great progress, Johnny, going to be out of here in no time. You won’t even be in the ICU much longer, and then once you’re downstairs, Penny will be able to come visit all the time. After that, it won’t be too much longer until you’re back home with them.” He nods, and you stroke your thumb across his knuckles.
“Ye think so?”
“You’re the toughest patient I’ve ever had, and I’ve had a fair amount, you know. Traumatic injury recovery takes time, it takes patience, but you’re doing a great job of it so far. You just have to take it one day at a time. Before you know it, you’ll be at home on your own couch, bossin’ Simon around all day instead of me.” He laughs at that, a throaty chuckle capable of spreading heady warmth through your veins, and then gives you one of those stupidly stunning smiles.
“Shouldnae be cryin’ in front of ye.”
“You can cry in front of me any time you want. That’s what I’m here for. Besides, it’s not the first time.” You tease and he rolls his eyes.
“Doesnae count. I was high.”
“Uh huh. Sure.” The untouched dinner tray on his side table catches your eye, and chilling worry reappears in the back of your mind. “You didn’t eat?”
“Didnae have an appetite until ye showed up, pretty girl.” Okay. You can remedy this easily, if he's interested in eating. Lack of appetite is alarming, but if you can get him to eat now... 
“You hungry? I haven’t eaten yet. Want me to grab you something?” He brightens, indulging in a spectacular smile, and you take it as a yes with a small laugh. “Alright. Let me run down to the café, yeah?”
“What’s that saying, about how I hate to see ye go, but love to watch ye leav-“
“Okay!” you practically shout, cutting him off, fire racing across your skin, and he snickers, palm pressing against his heart like he’s wounded. “I’ll be right back.” You give him a serious look, and and he rubs his palm through his hair, mirth sparkling in his eyes. Holy hell. How is he so attractive? And how is it still so blinding, every time?  
You get two of the only option left this late in the evening, chicken soup and some sourdough, balancing the bowls carefully on their trays until you’re placing them down in the room, swinging the little table over Johnny’s lap and settling in beside him, perched on Simon’s recliner. The soup is warm, spiced with herbs and thick with noodles, and you're pleased that it's better than you were expecting, happy that Johnny seems to like it as well. 
"Wanted to take ye out properly for our first date, but this will have ta’ do. Simon’s gon’ be so bloody jealous.” He masterfully hums between your bites, and your eyes go wide, trying and failing to swallow your soup instead of choking on it.
“Johnny, we… this… I- this isn’t a date!” you squeak.
“Why not?” He asks, inflection innocent, and your brain rattles around inside your skull, splitting down the middle, falling apart in bewilderment. Why not? What does he mean?
“You… you have a partner. Simon? You know, your family that we were literally just talking about?” He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you with this look on his face, one you can’t interpret. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“What did Simon tell ye, the other night. When he took ye home?”
“What? He… I don’t remember.” Does he know that Simon gave you his phone number? 
Of course, he knows, he started that group text. 
Does Simon know what Johnny said, about you coming into their lives? About-
“Didnae he tell ye, we’re here for ye?”
“Y-yeah.”
“We, bunny? We.”
“I don’t… I don’t understand.” He sighs. What is he trying to say? What is going on?
“We like ye. Like I said, we think ye’re really special. Simon, and I. Together, bun.”
“Wh-what?” Puzzle pieces snap together and then break apart, like a landscape jigsaw that you spent days completing once before it was promptly ruined. Does he... does he mean... Oh. Oh no. Oh no no no. You have to squash this. Now. Just explain it, he’ll get it. He’s smart. “No… no, Johnny it’s just… it’s this thing, that happens. Patients get attached to their nurses or doctors sometimes, it’s normal. You d-don’t like me, I promise. There’s nothing even to like.” He blinks, jaw grinding under stubble. If Simon’s stare feels like he’s reading your mind, then Johnny’s is like being pinned down in one place, unable to move. You’re paralyzed, and powerless, lost in the icy blue sea of his eyes, drowning with a hand sticking out above the crest of the surf, reaching for him.
“Why would ye say that? That there’s nothin’ about ye to like? Nothin’ could be farther from the truth.”
“I don’t… there’s not. It’s… I’m your nurse, Johnny. That’s all.” Sweat glosses the small of your back, slicking upwards to cover your spine, and your heart hammers, it beats, beats, beats- so loudly you’re sure the pulse point in your wrist is visible. “Johnny.” His name shakes from your lips, and he relaxes, gentle concern replacing the relentless intensity in his gaze.
“Shhh, hey. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didnae mean to upset ye.” You're still frozen, a statue, and he reaches for you, trying to grab onto your hand. The heat of his skin breaks you from the spell, and you force a robotic, bedside smile onto your face, scooping up your half empty bowl.
"It's okay." You need to get out of this room. Now. The walls feel too close, Johnny feels too close, everything is compounding on top of you, threatening to derail your entire life, ruin your plan. They cannot like you. They cannot care about you. They cannot show interest in you. You can’t let this happen. “I’ve gotta check on some other patients, okay? I’ll swing back your way in a bit.” You promise him, guilt eating you alive about running away, and when he gives you a sad smile, you almost lose your resolve.
“Alright, pretty girl. I’ll see ye later, then.” He murmurs, and you try not to trip over feet during your hasty exit.
Fuck. You’re so fucked. 
Simon and Johnny’s house is finally silent.  
Penny is down, safely tucked into dream world, her grainy grey-scale image flickering on the video monitor at Simon as he pours two fingers worth of bourbon into a glass.
Poor baby girl. His stomach twists. She put up such a fight tonight, hollering at the top of her lungs, standing up in her crib, working herself into an absolute state. He hates leaving her alone to cry, and on nights like this one, the only way she’ll close her eyes is if she’s being held, snuggled in Johnny's arms, or against Simon's chest. 
He’s a sucker, he knows. Doomed from the day she was born, but he can’t help it. Neither of them can. She’s their baby.
So, he doesn’t blame her for being so out of sorts. She always sleeps better when her Da is home. They both do.
His phone vibrates with a text, a short message from Johnny, and he scrolls through it, settling on the couch with his laptop, unopened email from Laswell blinking impatiently.
>She’s jumpy. Tired. Looks like she hasn’t gotten any sleep. Simon frowns.
> She manage to find a pair of panties for work today?
>Unfortunately. He can practically see the pout on Johnny’s lips, can hear the way he probably huffed and puffed when you first came into the room this evening, your hips swishing side to side, pretty smile on your face for him.
>I think I made her upset. Simon pinches the bridge of his nose. Johnny, love. Why can’t you listen? He takes a deep breath, trying to relax the worry that’s creeping up the back of his neck. 
Disagreements aren’t for text messages. They’ve learned that the hard way. 
>Take it easy for the rest of the night, then. She’s skittish. He shoots off the recommendation, and then pulls his laptop across his knee, clicking open the email from Kate.
Simon,  Your girl is a ghost. This kind of wipe work is professional level… are you sure she’s a nurse?  I’ve attached everything I could find, but it’s pretty scarce. The name you provided pulled a copy of her NHS nursing license, her taxes, an award she won at work last year, and a COVID vaccination record. No birth certificate, state identification, or public records of any kind, even after a global hand search. Nothing that even proves she exists or is an American except a sealed record from two years ago in the states. It’s not accessible, even for me, which means it could be WITSEC, or a court ordered name change in relation to a domestic violence case. There are 18 states that seal those records to protect the victim, so she could be from anywhere. My gut says it’s probably the latter, which is why she doesn’t exist prior to.  You’ll notice on the vaccine record, she marked ‘unhoused’, and I couldn’t find any lease/rental agreements, sale records, or mortgages in her name.  I wish I had more for you, but she really is a bit of a puzzle. I’ll keep digging.  -K.L. 
There’s an unsettling rattle going off in the front of Simon’s skull. It’s a siren, a smattering of warning bells, and he swallows the rest of the bourbon in one go, embracing the burn that slides down the back of his throat.
Who are you, little bunny? And who are you running from? 
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harrysfolklore · 2 months
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uncle harry
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gif by @kiwikiwiandkiwi <3
im so soft rn, enjoy !
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
The phone ringing in the middle of the night meant bad news most of the times.
However, when you and Harry were woken up by the sound of his ringtone, his mum on the other line frantically saying "It's time! The baby is coming!", you couldn't be happier.
Gemma broke the news that she was expecting a few months ago and Harry was man enough to admit that he cried a waterfall, not being able to contain his happiness over becoming an uncle.
And you were absolutely melted at the sight of him being excited about it, every single time he went out, he would come back with stuff for the baby, he face-timed his sister every night and overall he couldn't stop talking about being an uncle.
When Harry found out that he was going to have a niece, his excitement reached a whole new level. He started planning everything, from what he would teach her to the tattoo he would get for her once she was born, and once again, it made your heart burst to see your boyfriend so excited.
So now you headed to the hospital, ready to meet the brand new addition to the Styles family.
"I'm so excited," Harry said as he drove through the streets of London, holding your hand, "I can'y believe Gemma is a mummy now, feels like just yesterday we were pulling each other's hair and arguing over the last piece of cheesecake."
You smiled at him, kissing his knuckles softly and placing your intertwined hands on your thigh, "Feels like just yesterday I met her for the first time at your show, I was so nervous!"
"You really were, lovie," he smiled at the memory, "And you ended up becoming inseparable."
"What can I say? She's the cooler Styles."
Harry gave you a side eye and then laughed along with you, the rest of the drive was quiet and soon enough you were pulling up to the hospital where a few family members already stopped by to meet the little bundle of joy.
"Are you ready to meet your niece?" you turned to look at him as you unbuckled your seat belt, noticing that he had small tears in his eyes, "H? Baby are you crying?" you grabbed his chin and couldn't help but smile tenderly when he looked at you with watery eyes, "Oh my gosh, you're too adorable."
"I just, I can't believe I'm about to meet my sister's baby, that's insane."
You kissed his lips shortly, grabbing his face with both of your hands when you pulled away.
"She's already so lucky to have the best uncle in the world," you pecked his lips again, "Now let's go, I'm eager to meet her too."
You and Harry entered the hospital, hand in hand, ready to meet the newest member of the Styles family. As you approached Gemma's room, you could hear the sounds of laughter and joy coming from inside.
When you walked in, you were greeted by a room full of close family members, the room was pretty spacious and had a spare area where visitors could hang around without disturbing Gemma and the baby. Anne immediately approached both of you, happiness radiating from her eyes.
"You made it!" she said as she hugged you, turning to Harry when you pulled away, "H, baby! I'm a grandmother!"
"And I'm an uncle! Holy shit!"
You melted at the interaction, over the years the Styles-Twist family had taken you as one of their own and you were happy to be present for important moments like this.
"How is Gem? Is she awake? Can we see the baby now?" Harry eagerly asked after hugging his mom.
"She is fine, doing amazing," Anne said proudly, "Michal is inside with her, let's go."
Anne guided you to the door that lead to Gemma's private room, Harry squeezed your hand and you walked next to him, excitement evident on his every step.
Anne opened the door, peeking her head inside, "Your brother is here."
You and Harry walked in, Gemma was lying on the bed looking tired but happy nevertheless, a tiny head peeking from the blanket on her arms.
"About damn time, I was about to pick a different godfather for her if he didn't show up soon," Gemma sassed, making Harry turn his head back in laughter.
"Dammit, you're really a mum now," he approached his sister, you decided to stay back with Anne, "The bloke your brought to my concert years ago really was the one huh? Who would've thought."
"What can I say, mate? You trying to sabotage our date was kind of our blessing." Michal chimed in, standing next to Harry and patting his back.
"Congratulations, mate. I can't think of a better guy for my sister." Harry said as he hugged him, everyone looking at the scene tenderly.
"Are you going to stand there or are you going to hold your niece now?" Gemma wiggled his eyebrows at Harry, holding out her arms to him.
Harry took the baby into his arms, his face lighting up with pure joy. He cradled her gently, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Hello, beautiful," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "I'm your Uncle Harry, and I already love you so much."
You felt your eyes get watery at the sight, Harry looked up at you and urged you to come closer to him and the baby.
"This is your auntie," he cooed to the baby again once you were standing next to him, "She's the coolest ever and makes the best pancakes, you're going to absolutely love her just like I do."
"She's gorgeous," you said as you looked at the baby's face, "Congratulations, Gem."
"Thank you," Gemma said softly, a tired smile on her face but her eyes shining with gratitude.
"Just so you know," Harry looked at Gemma with a serious face, "She's not allowed to have any boyfriends until she's like 30."
Michal laughed and agreed with Harry, you rolled your eyes at him and Gemma shook her head.
"Uncle overprotective, that's what you are," Gemma said, a yawn coming out of her mouth right after, "I can't even imagine how is it going to be when you have your own kid."
You felt butterflies in your stomach at this, Harry giving you a small smile and winking at you.
"Let me put a ring on her finger first please," he turned to look at Gemma, "Because unlike you, sister, I'm not having children out of wedlock."
"Come on, now!" Michal protested, making the entire room laugh.
Hours passed and Harry was glued to the baby, babbling nonsense to her and cooing at every little thing she did. Eventually Gemma drifted off to sleep and that was everyone's cue to leave and let both her and the baby rest.
"I'm so happy right now," Harry said as you drove back to your house, "I feel so happy for Gemma, and for our family."
"She's going to be the best mum ever," you looked away from the window to face him, "And you're going to be the best uncle."
"Thank you for being here with me today, for sharing this moment with me. I love you."
"I love you too," you replied, leaning in to kiss him softly. "I'm so happy for you, for all of us. Today was perfect."
"And I meant what I said back there, I'm not letting her have a boyfriend until she's 30."
"Whatever you say, uncle overprotective!"
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