#i don't really have the patience for detail work | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thefaefiction · 11 months

Text

In Too Deep. [Tom Hiddleston x Reader]

PAIRING: Tom Hiddleston x Reader GENRE: Smut !! WARNINGS: Age gap, teacher x student relationship, smut, daddy kink, praise, piv sex, choking, degradation if you squint, aftercare, fem!reader, written with a chubbier reader in mind but it's not obvious, also the beginning is rushed SUMMARY: After developing an intense relationship with your English professor Mr. Hiddleston, you both are in too deep to let it go to waste.

A/N: im not gonna lie i had no clue how to actually begin this fic because it's literally just an excuse for me to indulge in my delusions so sorry that the first couple paragraphs are weird and rushed </3 also the school email domain is fake idk if it's real don't pay attention to it LMAO

Your obsession with your English professor was no secret to your friends. Elio, your long term best friend and dormmate, has had to interrupt you from your delusions on more than one occasion which was already one too many -- whether that be purposefully failing a paper to see him after class, wearing a skirt far too short and dropping a pencil in a calculated manner in front of him, or staring at him a little too intently during lectures -- it was becoming a problem.

In the professor's multiple classes of forty-some-odd students, there really were only a few that were delusional enough to believe they could sleep with their teacher. The difference between you and them was that you were patient with your actions and the effects it had on him.

Ultimately your patience paid off, as one Friday you received an ominous email with the heading titled 'Make-up Work' from a particular '[email protected].' In the details, he simply requested your presence at a disclosed location only ten minutes from campus on Sunday. It was not an office nor a dorm, but a house.

It wasn't long before his intentions were made clear when you arrived; his eyes dark with lust and a half buttoned shirt upon opening the door.

"(Y/N)," He welcomed, cocking his head and shutting the door behind you. "Lovely to see you."

"Pleasure's mine," You reply, never breaking eye contact. You slide your coat off and he takes it in his hands, hanging it up for you. You knew where the night was going to end -- inviting a student to talk not just outside of office hours, but in the professor's home, is not something usual.

"I thought we could discuss an appropriate way to help get your grade back up in my class," He begins. His eyes look down for a moment, observing your obviously risqué attire. "Do you have an idea as to what way that might be?"

He was going to make you say it. There was no way around it. Still, you decided to entertain his antics until it was made painfully and obviously clear he was trying to get you to say what you know he wants you to say.

"I think," You start, voice beginning to shake. The confidence you had starting this endeavor was suddenly challenged. "I think one-on-one time is certainly needed." You press your lips together in a line.

He hums, taking an agonizing step closer. He looks down into your eyes, furrowing his brows and letting out a soft laugh. "I'm not dumb, (Y/N)," he retorts. "I know you're a smart girl. You're excellent, actually -- some of the best writing from all of my classes combined." The professor stops, taking a step back to his original position. "So why are you really here?"

A moment of silence.

"You know why," You sheepishly croak out.

"Flatter me by saying it, then." He raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms and waiting for you to speak.

"I want you to fuck me."

With the words already said, there was no going back. Your chest sunk, a feeling of embarrassment creeping up and beginning to eat away at your skin. All of those feelings were put to rest the second your professor spoke: "Was that so hard to ask, love?"

Professor Hiddleston turned on his heel, two fingers signaling you to follow him like a lost puppy. He led you down a long hallway in painful silence, finally twisting the knob to a door that revealed his bedroom. It was sleek and clean, covered in shades of black and gray with no mess dared to be left out.

He shut the door behind you and immediately began unbuttoning his shirt, holding your gaze with his light eyes. "Quickly," He commented. "I don't like waiting."

Your face flushed, embarrassed at his demand. You looked away and lifted the hem of your shirt-

"You will look at me," He orders, finishing the last button. "With how bold you are in my classroom I would've thought you'd take more control," He pokes, smirking. "Who would've thought you're just a shy little girl desperate for attention from her professor?"

Your thighs squeezed together, you're sure it doesn't go unnoticed as he grins the moment it occurs. You lift your top off as he watches, simultaneously beginning to unbuckle his belt. The sound makes you shiver.

"Good girl," He praises. You shiver in response.

As he tosses his belt to the side, you begin sliding your skirt off, letting it fall to the ground and pool at your feet. Your professor mimics with his slacks, walking closer and caressing your cheek. "Bed."

You obey, laying down on his duvet as he crawls up your body, sending shivers down your spine. "Professor-"

"Tom," He corrects. "No need for formalities at this point, yes?"

You blush before continuing. "Tom, are you sure?"

"I've been sure since the first time you tried to tease me in class," He replies. "I don't think you understand that I think about you every fucking night in my bed, about the things I would do if I were just able to have you."

You smile, your confidence returning almost instantly. "You have me, sir."

Tom grunts in the back of his throat, his body towering over you as he tears your underwear off, the cracking of the seams startling you. Immediately his hands find your sex, running his hands over it and around your thighs. His hands diligently run under your back, you arch, giving him easier access to remove your bra.

"God, you're stunning," He whispers before connecting his lips to yours. He pulls on your face, his teeth making contact with your lips and bruising their pink color in moments. As he pulls away, a string of saliva connects your mouths and you squirm beneath him.

Tom sits up and begins removing his boxers. The tent in them is noticeable -- and horrifying. You can tell he's big even without seeing it.

Not like you've thought about it before, though.

Now completely undressed, he puts his hands under your waist and drags you forward with a grunt. His hands dig at the fat of your hips and travel along your plush thighs, a moan escaping your lips as his fingers dance on your skin.

"Does my little girl need her professor's cock?" Tom provokes, sliding his shaft between your folds -- up and down, up and down, up and down.

You whine, nodding eagerly in hopes to get him to just put it in already, but your meek noise wasn't good enough for him. "Use your big girl words, darling." He puts his thumb and pointer finger against your chin, urging you to look at him him; eyes burning through your skull.

"Daddy," You spit out too quick, back arching. "Please, need you inside of me so bad!" The sheer volume of your pleas and the new title takes Tom aback, yet his cock ached with every sultry word you spoke.

"Good girl," He praises, grinning at you beneath him. You watch as he inserts himself, pressing just the head into your heat. You let out a guttural moan, eyebrows furrowing in a lovely mix of pain and pleasure. He begins slowly easing himself into you further, inch by agonizing inch, until he completely bottoms out; releasing a groan as his head lolls back. "God, you feel so good princess," He praises, "Taking me so so well, yeah?"

His words struck a chord within you, forcing a smile on your face. You whimper, brain not being able to form a complete thought at how deep he was inside you and how just damn good it felt. He was much bigger than anyone you'd taken before by a longshot. Your walls clenched around him and he laughed, cock twitching inside of you. He slowly slides back, leaving just the head in, and then pushes forward quickly, earning a loud, needy, moan from your lips. "Look at you, so drunk on me, hm?" He says, pulling back and then ramming himself deep into you, bruising your cervix. "Tell me what you want, doll. What is it you need from daddy?" He teases, never averting his eyes from your gaze.

"Please," You whine, "Need you to to move, need daddy to make me come!" And without hesitation, he picks up the pace, rapidly fucking you while his hands grip the headboard. You can hear it hitting the wall, and suddenly you're glad he has a house instead of an apartment. The noises you're making are obscene, something any practiced Catholic would need to cross themselves after hearing. "Feels so good daddy!" You spit, earning a groan from him.

Tom turned almost animalistic during sex; his grunts sounding more and more like growls as he fucks you brainless. "Fuck!" He moans, taking a hand off of the wood above you. He quickly puts his free hand on your throat, squeezing and forcing your eyes to meet his once again. "Like being choked by daddy, yeah? Like daddy to make you feel powerless, hm?" He smirks, observing the visual pleasure and shock on your face.

You're so close, you can feel yourself on the verge of your orgasm, and his dirty talk was pushing you even closer. The hand on your throat squeezed, and you clenched down on him, causing Tom to curse under his breath. "Want your cum daddy," You squeak out, "Pleasepleaseplease!" You mumble in strands of pleasure.

"Feel so good," He praises. "Come for me, be a good girl and come for daddy, yeah?" He was fucking you hard, and fast, and he still managed to pick up the pace. His skin slapped against your skin, filling the room with hard smacks and grunts and moans; endless strings of 'daddy' and 'good girl' running from both of your lips.

"Want you inside me daddy," You choke out. Your head lolls to the side and bounces against the pillow, a lazy smile forming on your face. "P-please!" You whine.

That pushed Tom over the edge. He was too far lost in himself, leaning down and growling into your ear. "Ask and you shall receive," he teases.

As if on cue, you both come together, the wave of pleasure rushing over you both. You could feel his warmth filling you up, leaking down your heat and spilling onto his bed. "Fuck, Y/n!" He grunts, "Took me so so well little girl."

You couldn't think, let alone speak. Tom stayed inside of you, helping you ride out your orgasm, not wanting the feeling of your sweet sex to leave him. He took his hand off of your throat and stroked the site, soothing the redness with a sultry kiss. You hummed in response, letting your body fall limp. After a few moments, he pulled out.

About three things Tom was absolutely certain: One, he should’ve never become romantically entangled with one of his students. Two, engaging in this behavior put his entire career in jeopardy due to it being wildly illegal. Three, he was, without a doubt in his mind, unconditionally in love with everything about you.

As you laid on his chest, foreheads drenched in sweat and bodies stuck together, you felt more at home than you'd like to admit. One hand messaged your back, drawing figure-eights on your skin, and the other pet your hair, occasionally drawing his lips close to kiss the top of your head. You burrowed your head into him, clinging onto his body. He grinned.

"I should've never let it go this far," Tom said, his voice raspy and deep with post-sex clarity, "but I'm afraid I'm in too deep to give it up now." He let out a low laugh, your head bouncing with his chest.

You smiled. "I'm afraid I wouldn't have been able to return to normal after this," You commented, "and, well, not to be dramatic but having sex with your professor twice your age does things to you." Tom chuckled, looking down at you and tilting your head up to meet his eyes.

"This is all so wrong," He mumbled, furrowing his eyebrows and pressing his lips together, "And yet I wouldn't have it any other way." He pressed a kiss to your lips, the kind of kiss that left a permanent stain of love and lust on your mouth. It was deep, meaningful, and romantic. Tom stared at you, taking in your features and basking in each and every one. "You are breathtaking, darling."

You hid your face in his neck, attempting to suppress the toothy grin you'd almost shown him, however he pulls your head up with his pointer finger and thumb, admiring your rosy cheeks. "Poor baby, so sensitive to my compliments," He jests, letting out a low hum.

You roll your eyes at him. "It's not my fault that daddy somehow knows all of the words that light a fire in me," You emphasize on the word 'daddy,' which forces what sounded like a groan from the back of his throat. "I don't want to go," You admit, falling back into his embrace.

"I know love," He says calmly, stroking your hair and pulling you into him tight. "We can stay like this as long as you'd like, but eventually I'll have to bring you back."

You hum into just chest. "Just a little bit longer," you say to Tom. "I'm still recovering."

⟡

When you arrived back at your dorm, much later than you anticipated, Elio looked at you with an eyebrow raised and a smirk on his face. "Back so soon?"

"Shut up," You laughed, dropping your bag to the ground and kicking off your shoes. You wobbled into the dorm, legs still sore and threatening your balance. Clearly Elio had noticed this, as the first thing he said after greeting you was "Well aren't your movements suspicious," and your cheeks flushed red. "I do not need to explain my late night endeavors and my later night actions," You began, "But,"

"But..?" Elio lead, leaning forward in his seat.

"But." You ended, pressing your lips together with a hidden grin and nodding your head.

"No!" He gasped, smiling widely and clasping his hands, putting his chin on the top of his fingers. "Please tell me everything! Not that I need to know the gory details of your sex life but, like, was he..?" Elio put his hands in front of him, fingers forward, and spread his arms apart.

"Shut up!" You giggled, swatting his hands. "But yes. Yes he was. Very."

"I knew it." He said, shaking his head. "I knew he was packing."

"Not to ruin our gossip but I need to lay down with a heating pad or something because standing is hurting my body," You laughed. "I think that man busted my cervix."

"Okay, TMI," He said, rolling his eyes. "But honestly go get some rest, lord knows you need it for seeing him tomorrow."

You were confused at first, then realized that tomorrow you had Tom for English, and you had absolutely no idea how you were supposed to face him when the night before he had you moaning 'daddy' and railed you into oblivion. But that was an issue you could deal with tomorrow. Probably. Hopefully.

#🍇 -- thefaefiction!#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #teacher x reader #professor x reader #smut #tom hiddleston smut #plus size reader #tom hiddleston x plus size reader #professor!tom hiddleston #teacher!tom hiddleston #x reader smut

1K notes · View notes

spockandawe · 8 months

Text

Lord of the rings! Again! I'm fond enough of this story, but what this project definitely taught me in contrast to things like svsss is that I have I have basically no patience for repeating myself unless the thing I'm repeating was a passion project from the start, haha. But after I finished my first take last year as a gift for my cousin's wedding, like a fool, I told my brother he could pick what handmade gift he wanted for his wedding and he said... lord of the rings.

I wasn't going to give my brother a less extravagant version than I gave my cousin, so I went all in! And I really think i nailed it with the edge art. Watercolors are classic, but I was the type of sketchbook kid who stuck to pencils and pens. It was originally going to have watercolors also, until the lines turned out this detailed and I started worrying about making things muddy. And honestly, doing lines like this where you don't miss the watercolors worked out REALLY well, and I'm going to keep that strategy in mind going forward. I want to get good at watercolors, but I also know it's valuable to play to your own strengths!

I'm really pleased with how the elements of this came together! The last book was black and blue, so flipping the palette to reds was a lot of fun, and I really enjoy these endpapers. Leather endbands against a leather spine remain one of my fave effects. And as painstaking as drawing the siege of gondor was, and as hard as it was to scrape together references for a spread that 1) showed the cool stuff and 2) had the aspect ratio to cover an 18"x4" surface area, it was really rewarding to see it all come together. I'm really delighted with how this turned out! Two last indulgent pictures to show off the art without those covers getting in the way:

#crafts #bookbinding #lord of the rings #edge painting #or adjacent #long post

805 notes · View notes

kryovene · 5 months

Text

astro notes

let me know if you have these placements whether or not they resonate, i'm always trying to improve. these are based off my personal experiences :) NOT MENTIONED: virgo, gemini,

fire mars (aries, leo, sagittarius) are good at dealing with confrontation that is sudden and head on, but not conflict that brews over time. water mars (cancer, scorpio, pisces) on the other hand, can become very perceptive and can pick up on the coming tension much easier. capricorn mars is good at both.

an aquarius sun with no other aquarius placements can struggle a lot to express themselves. this is due to the sun being detriment in aquarius - their individuality and authenticity is being compromised by a weak sun.

an aquarius mercury trying to communicate is similar to a famous celebrity trying to relate to normal people.. there is definitely a disconnect. i don't mean this in a bad way!! they just have a different way of thinking and it takes time and patience for the rest of us to catch up.

11h venus doesn’t always date someone in their friend group, but it’s typically very important for them to have a best friend built into their relationship. companionship is majorly important!!

4h moons are soooo sweet, even if the moon is detriment or at fall. they know how to make others feel safe even if they struggle to make themselves feel safe. very warm people <3

most pisces placements want to be organized like their sister virgo, but it takes a long time for them to find a system that works for them because of how vivid their mind is. big picture (jupiter) vs details (mercury)

taurus mars are veryyy argumentative due to their stubbornness. if you challenge or question what they're saying at all they will be very defensive. taurus mars/scorpio moon will defend themselves even if the statement wasn't aggressive or coming at them any sort of way. i've also met a lot of taurus mars who will counter your point even if they don't believe in it, just so they can argue with you.

12h placements, i hear you, i understand you, i feel for you lmfaooo

capricorn venus typically embraces aging

aries sun/moon are very sensitive to rejection because of their competitive nature. they really want to be the best and they take that shit seriously

the sun in libra is at fall, so these natives need to learn to separate their wants and needs from everyone else's. it's good to be cooperative but it's more important to find and establish your values

pisces mercury can come up with the best ideas, it's just that others might not be able to understand them fully. they think more in the abstract but if you can see their vision they can be very innovative

#astro #astrology #astro notes #aries #taurus #cancer #leo #libra #scorpio #capricorn #aquarius #pisces #sagittarius

496 notes · View notes

non-stop-imagines · 6 months

Text

Cute

From this request 💖🤭

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Black Fem Content Creator!Reader (@/brinathedoll on ig faceclaim)

Summary: In which Charles thinks you're really cute and it gets annoying.

Word Count: ~10.4k words

Warning: Smut (p in v), face fucking, Hard!Dom Charles (bet that's a surprise), fingering, corruption kink (my best attempt), tummy bulge, "slut" being used a couple times, squirting, breeding kink towards the end, outfits, Twitter environment, mean comments, online translator French, ruining clothing, Minors DNI!!! 18+

A/N: It's 🏎️ anon's turn! 🥳 You have no idea how much I wanted to get to this one. Y'all already know how much I love Charles and this is my first smutty fic for him. I'm living the dream. 🤩 This one was fun, and the request was very helpful, very detailed it was a fic on its own! 🤣😚 Anyway hope you all enjoy. Thank you 🏎️ anon for your patience! I hope it lives up to your amazing idea! Love you all bbys!!! 💖💛💖💛💖

Translations: d'accord, mon amour=okay, my love;Putain de morveux=Fucking brat;Mon petit ange impatient=my eager little angel;Vous comprenez?=Do you understand?; Mon petit ange désordonné.=My messy little angel; Baise-moi=Fuck me; Mon parfait petit ange=My perfect little angel

Masterlist

______♥______

lyttleagnelyn

Liked by carlossainz55 and 268,307 others

lyttleagnelyn 🌸°~♥Life with Charlie¹⁶♥~°🌸

View all 204 comments

charlesleclerc A perfect life if I say so myself 🥰

user1 🌸🩷🌸🩷

user2 You can see the obsession in his eyes 😍

lilymhe Cuties 🥰🪷🩷🌸

>lyttleagnelyn You and Alex are the blueprint 😚

user3 I need another clothing haul bc these outfits are so cute I CANT-

>lyttleagnelyn How about with a special guest? 👀

>user3 YES TF ❗❗

scuderiaferrari Petition for Charles' next special helmet to have rabbit ears on it 📜

>lyttleagnelyn I would happily help design it 🥰🐰

>charlesleclerc And I would happily wear it

>user6 If your your gonna DNF, you can at least look cute while doing it ☺️🌸🪷🐰

user4 That emo boys shirt is killing me cause you have the softest man in the world 😭

>lyttleagnelyn He tries his best 😔😭

user5 Charles.jpg in the works

>charlesleclerc I'm afraid those aren't for the public eye 😗

>lyttleagnelyn Charlie why??? 😭

>user5 Yes, Charlie why? 😭😭😭😭

>charlesleclerc They're just too cute for anyone else but me, mon ange

"Thank you for doing this with me, baby. It'll be fun, I promise." You practically bounce around the excessive light pinkness of your filming room as you finish prepping everything for your video. Charles insisted that he created this room for you when you moved in with him months prior. "You need a room you feel comfortable in, mon ange." Is what he said when you tried to protest it, not wanting to take over his space, but here you were, getting ready to film on your pretty pink dedicated office.

"I don't doubt it, Mon ange." Charles sat in your computer chair, hugging to him a Hello Kitty plushie that originally sat close to it, watching you move around, waiting for you to start filming. "If it's anything like the makeup video, I know it'll be fun." He loved watching you in your element, around your things. He would paint his entire apartment pink if it meant he could see the smile you had and that sparkle in your eyes 24/7.

"You just liked the attention you got from that one." You walk over to him and fluff his hair bit before leaning down for a quick peck on the lips. "I have to give it to you, you knew your stuff."

"When your girlfriend takes as long as you do to get ready, you get curious." He's reluctant to release his arm that he wrapped around your waist when you approached him but he eventually does, letting his hand fall back to the plush in his lap when you head back over to the camera.

"Okay, ready?" You look back towards Charles, ready to press record on the tripod in front of you.

"Yep, ready." He gives you a thumbs up, now starting to twist in the rotating chair, still holding on to the stuffed animal. His eyes possessively surveyed you as you began your video.

"Heeelllooo my little lovelies, welcome back to another video. If your new here, hi, my name is Yn. I am here today with a very special guest making his first physical appearance on my channel, my loving and very trusting boyfriend, Charles. Aka Scuderia Ferrari Formula One driver Charles Leclerc." You beam, and playfully jog back to your computer chair, standing behind him and placing your chin on his head.

"Hello everyone." He doesn't even try to match your enthusiasm, going with his usual enthusiastic tone, because he knew from experience that no normal human being has as much energy as you do at any given moment.

"So if you noticed that I described my Charlie here as a very trusting boyfriend, it was because, unlike you all who know what this video will be, he does not. Charles just blindly agreed to joining me today. So, you want to know what I'm gonna have you do today?" You head was now next his, turned to the side so you were looking at his side profile which soon became a full view of his face where he gave you a quick kiss before answering.

"I would like to know, yes." He chuckled out his words and let an eye crinkling smile grow on his face.

"You, my love, are going to be rating some outfits for me made up of clothes that I already had and some stuff I just bought." You drape your arms over his shoulders, your full attention on him and his on you, you feeling warm under the excessively adoring eyes.

"Okay, that's interesting. So, like, on a scale of 1-10?" Charles seems to search for something in your face, a possible flicker of uncertainty that comes with ideas you have in instances where you liked the idea but the follow through made you too uncomfortable. This was not one of those times as you nod sprightly with gleaming eyes.

"Mhmm. If it's okay with you, of course. I kinda blindly roped you into this." Your smile drops slightly and one of your hands begin to swipe at Charles' over grown hair as you awaited his answer.

"If it's okay with you, it's definitely okay with me, mon ange. I like seeing your cute little outfits anyway." The eye crinkling smile was back on his face as you attacked his cheek with rapid-fire kisses, leaving light lip gloss marks.

"Thank you, baby! You're the best!" You press on last kiss you his lips and then plant yourself between the him and the camera to finish your intro. "Alrighty, let's not waste anymore time and get this started, shall we?" You turn to look at Charles catching him deep in thought, straight faced shifting jaw and darkened eyes. "I'll be right back with the first outfit, okay? You talk to the people." You disappear into the walk-in closet in the room to change, leaving Charles to do as told. Talk to the people.

"This is no different than when she usually comes home after shopping. I will happily stop whatever I am doing and watch her try on her new clothes." He looks away from the camera to take a brief gander around the room, knowing that you be able to edit the silent bits out later. His eyes roamed the light pink walls of the room, plastered in various equally pink posters, the white computer desk against the wall perpendicular to the bedroom door and a well organized pile of plushies on the other side of the room. The closest door to the right of the desk held an adorablely decorated mirror that directly faced the Classic Rose pink colored canopy bed that Charles also insisted was put in here for various reasons: being able to take naps, for example, when you wore yourself out from editing or other content related work that you would always throw your entire self into. There were, of course, less savory reasons that bed was in this room in that exact spot, but luckily the twist of the closest door knob brought him back to the reality and prepared him to see your first look.

"Okay, outfit number one. There will be about 10 by the way." You give that message to both your boyfriend and the camera before going back to posing and turning around so you whole outfit can be seen. You turn to face the camera to give your spiel on where each item was from whether it was part of the haul or you previously had it. Charles eyes moved up the back of you taking in how well the jeans fit your butt, how your shirt bunched up in the middle to show your midriff, giving your belly ring the backdrop it needs to be shown off against your brown skin. But none of those details caught his eye like the thin pink ribbon that was wrapped around your ponytail, bringing back that sense of innocence to the outfit that he enjoyed. Once you were done you turned to face Charles. "What do you think, baby?"

"You look very, very cute, Mon ange." You gleefully spin in another circle so he is able to get one more good look at the entire outfit.

"Mercí. So, on a scale of 1-10, what would you rate it?" You absentmindedly alternate a mild hyperextension of you knees as you waited for an answer.

"Erhm, I would rate it an 8." He says this with an emphasized tone that was very specific to him, pausing at certain words and elongating the "an".

"Okay...why an 8?" You walk into the hand that he lowly held out, ending up standing between his legs but standing to the side so the camera could see him, his fingers scaling over your exposed lower back.

"Uhh, again you look very cute, but it's a bit, uh, edgier that your other outfits. Also, you feel more comfortable in skirts than pants, no?" That gauging look was on his face, hoping that he had his facts straight and wasn't making a crude misjudgement.

"That's true, but these jeans made my butt look great, so I made an exception." You leave Charles' vicinity and move to your mirror to get a glimpse for yourself.

"That is true. The jeans fit you very well. That entire outfit fits you very well." His hands go back to squeezing the plush that he honestly forgotten was in his grasp when you walked out of arms length.

"Thank you." You bend over the slight bit to give him a short kiss, his thumb and ring finger needlessly propping up your chin. "Okay, next outfit!"

After another few minutes where Charles sat alone, reminiscing about the first outfit, you came out of your closet in the second outfit. "Okay, outfit number two."

The boy was stunned. He literally sat silent, jaw basically on the floor as he looked you up and down. "That is a 10. Hands down." He spoke with the utmost seriousness, making you feel a bit shy but also even more confident in the outfit that just felt completely you.

"That was quick. I didn't even get to talk to the people yet." You took a step closer to him letting the hand that he held out hold onto your thigh, fingers running over the pink fishnet stockings you had on.

"Oh, yes. Go do that." He shoots you away and you make quick work of explaining your outfit, wanting to hear why he was so swift in rating the outfit a 10.

"Okay, now why a 10?" You settle into his lap this time, plucking the plush from his lap and gently placing it on the floor.

"Well I love the pink. Pink is definitely your color." He pulls you closer to him as he examined your outfit a bit more. "The lace on your shirt, the uh-cor-um" He waves his hand around his own shirt, trying to remember the name of the type of shirt you had on that he has heard a number of times.

"Corset?" You remind him, your hands gravitating to his hair as they always do

"Oui! Yes, corset. The lace on it it beautiful. And I really like the stockings and the lace on those, too. This outfit really does make you glow." Your heart speeds up from how tenderly he says the last statement. His voice was a bit lower and more gruff, coaxing you into deep languid kisses until you remembered that the camera was still there, recording everything.

"Geez, your really trying to make me have to work at editing this thing huh?" You smack his chest and hand back the Hello Kitty plush that he accepts unhesitatingly, chuckling at your frantic realization.

"I have no idea what you are talking about." An adorable laugh is laced through his voice as he watches you disappear into the closet to change into your next outfit.

The rest of the video goes on basically in the same order: You come out in the outfit, give where each piece is from, and then turn to get Charles rating which was accompanied by various cheek warming praises ("You look absolutely adorable, Mon ange.", "That is perfect for you, baby.", "How are you so cute?"). After the last outfit, though, you had a small surprise for him.

"Okay, so I know I said 10 outfits, but I have one last thing I wanted to try on for you guys..." You spoke to the camera quickly then rushed off toward your closet, stopping and looking at Charles for a moment. "You're gonna like this one." And then as you did 10 times before, you disappeared behind the door, leaving Charles still holding the plush and racking his brain as to what this last outfit might be. A few minutes later, you open the door a crack. "So, I know that summer is nearly done, but there were so many swimsuits on sale so I knew I would've been crazy not to get at least one sooo..." You carefully step out of the closet with small steps, not yet passing the door for the camera to be able to see you. "You like it?" You bring pink acrylic nail to your teeth as you wait for an answer from, a now gawking, Charles.

"I-that-aaa-bwow. Ah, yes. I do like it. Alot." His eyes slowly move down your body, eyes obviously lingering on each piece of the bikini you had on. The lace trim that followed the curve of your boobs, the pink plaid and strawberry detailing. This then led to his eyes trailing down your exposed brown skin, shining against the pink like it always does, down your stomach, stopping briefly at your belly ring and then finishing down your legs, mind going to what's between them. He now finds a use for the Hello Kitty plush, clasping it to his lap to hide the major hard-on producing. He then cuts his eyes to the camera, remembering what he was there for, and cuts his eyes again, this time for the purpose of nonverbally asking "Are you okay with wearing that on camera?"

"Oh, it's fine, baby. I want to show them." You finally emerge from the closet to give a full view of yourself to the camera, going on to explain where the swimsuit is from and the details you like about it. Charles tuned every single word out now that he had a prolonged view of the backside on the ensemble, finally being able to see how great your ass looked, but it was a miniscule detail that really caught his eye. The thin pink ribbon that still held your hair in a ponytail. Your playful innocence flooding back to his vision of you in his mind, offseting the... provocative style of the girly patterned bikini. He clutched tighter to the plush in his lap.

"So, yeah. I just really liked it...and as you can see by the blank stare, Charles really likes it as well. It's different, huh? The fit of it is a bit sexier than my other ones, right?" You turn to Charles to ask the question and saunter into his arms, beginning to mess with his hair again just to see your decorated nails run through it.

"Sure, you could say that. But, um, I do really like you in it. It's very cute on you." He grins up at you with adoring eyes and gestures with his lips to request a kiss from you which you grant.

"Thank you. Now let me go put on some real clothes and I will be back to close out the video." You bound to the closet again after speaking to the camera. Charles sat patiently, the image of you in that bikini burned in his brain.

_________

"That was fun." Charles said as he finally got up from the computer chair, stretching out his limbs and carefully replacing Hello Kitty in the spot he plucked her from initially.

"Yay! I'm glad you had fun. I enjoyed it. You know how much I like trying out new outfit inspos." You unhook the camera from the tripod and briefly make sure at least something recorded.

"Inspos?" He stops his wandering about the room to inquire about the unfamiliar word.

"Short for inspiration, baby." You set the camera down and walk over Charles, wrapping your arms around his torso and resting your chin on his chest.

"Ah. Yes, I do know how much you like trying on new clothes. And you looked adorable in each and every one. Especially that swimming suit." You giggle at yet another compliment and prop up onto your tip toes to accept the kiss he was craning his neck to give you.

"Thank you. For that and for doing the video." You hug close to him, getting a comforting huff of his cologne while his hand runs up and down your back.

"De rien, mon ange. Anything for you." He presses one more kiss to the top of your head, your vanilla scent strong enough to taste and thin pink ribbon in your hair still teasing him.

"Okay, you may go. Go do whatever Charles does while I edit, okay?" You wave him off toward the door and make your way to your desk, sitting criss cross on your computer chair.

"Okay, okay." He heads to the door to exit but turns to you, your back to him, already clicking through everything to begin editing. His eyes traced the pink ribbon that followed the gentle curve of your ponytail. That fucking ribbon. "Make sure you take a break, Mon ange. We can watch a movie or something."

"Okay!" You call back, waving him away. He giggled, shaking his head and closing the door most of the way. He had to distract himself. Every single outfit you tried on drove him crazy, the contrast the girlish pink ribbon added to each progressively provocative outfit, and the bikini, that drove him over the edge.

"Fuck it." Charles detoured into the bathroom and closed the door, pushing down his sweatpants just enough to release his cock from confinement, precum already beaded on the tip. Immediately he began stroking, providing the much needed friction to relieve the arousal that manifested. "Mon petit ange innocent, you drive my fucking crazy..."

_____

lyttleagnelyn

Liked by lilymhe and 230,739 others

lyttleagnelyn A 10 in some 8s and 9s 🌸🪷🌸

(Go watch my new video and this will make sense. And to see the only outfit that was ranked a 10. Link in bio🩷)

View all 279 comments

user7 IT GIRL 🩷

charlesleclerc You should've showed them all 😚

>lyttleagnelyn Then they wouldn't have a reason to go watch the video 🥺

>charlesleclerc To watch your cuteness in action is reason enough

joris__trouche Next vid you pick out Charles' outfit 👀

>user8 Now here is a man of the people

>user9 You're saying that like Charles wouldn't absolutely love it 🥹

user10 It needs to be said that polar bear outfit is highly underrated

>user11 TURN IT UP 🎛️

lewishamilton 🩷😊

>lyttleagnelyn Thanks Lew 😚

>user12 I didn't know I need this friendship until this very moment and I will not accept anything less

user13 I don't know why but I love that she brings this style to the paddock bc them fits are starting to get boring 🩷

__________

"Open your legs wider, Mon ange, so you can see your pretty little pussy in the mirror." Your eyes connected with his in the reflection of your pink themed mirror on your closet. The image was a completely lewd contrast to the back drop, you fully nude, legs splayed open, Charles' jean clad legs encircling yours and his arms, covered in the sleeves of his sweatshirt, leading to hands that were defiling you in their own ways. One was wrapped around your upper body, fondling your breast as the other caressed your upper thigh, drawing ever so close to your core.

"Like this?" He watched you in the mirror as you adjusted your legs, lazily rubbing at your clit as he instructed you to do earlier.

"Yes, perfect. Look at how cute you look." He presses his mouth to your hair, keeping his face there and allowing the thin pink ribbon he tied around your already up ponytail to tickle his face.

"Charles, I don't know how much longer..." Your hand starts to slow down drastically, almost stopping, but a firm grip on your wrist from Charles keeps the movement going.

"C'mon, amour. I know you can do better than this." His presses a couple kisses to your hair and then notches his head in the crook of your neck, eyes switching between your actual hand rubbing circles on your cute swollen cunt, and the reflection smiling back at him from the closet door. His other hand quickly swats 2 slaps to your tit, creating small shocked whimpers from you that he finds great amusement in. "Also, you know what to call me, Mon ange."

"Daddy, I don't know if I can do it again." Your hand got pressed into your clit some more, making slow but strong circles that make you whimper on repeat.

"I know you can give me one more, Mon ange." You concede and keep rubbing, the achy, over sensitivity making you lull your head back. You didn't notice that your eyes had been squeezed shut until they flutter open, relieving your eyelids of the strain and giving you a dreamy view of Charles, his eyes trained on the addictingly obscene reflection in the mirror. Unfortunately, the early comments from your video began ringing in your ears, taunting you, so you decide to test the waters.

"Nooo, what about you? I can give you one?" You effeciently remove your hand from his grasp and attempt to clumsily reach into his belted jean. He watched for a moment, charmed by your novice attempt at trying to get him off yourself, but just as easily as you had removed your hand, your wrist was being gripped again, this time with out the allowance of reach to his torso. You whine, defeated. He was your boyfriend. That's what boyfriends wanted their girlfriends to do, right? "I just want to make you feel good..."

"Making you feel good makes me feel good, Mon amour." He slowly guides your hand back to your clit starting the agonizingly slow, ineffective rub on your clit again. "But, if you really want to make me feel good, amour, you will make a mess for me, just like I know you can."

"But I don't think I can cum again..." Your hand keeps rubbing, but now the ache of your overused clit coupled with your bubbling frustration were already hard at work dampening your arousal. Seeing Charles in the mirror, his tongue swirling around his middle and ring finger is the only thing that seems to keep one last drop of sexual intrigue.

"I know, Mon ange. That's okay, because I am going to help you. You just have to keep your eyes on the mirror, d'accord, mon amour? And do not stop rubbing your cute swollen clit." He takes the two fingers, now lubricated with saliva, and rubs them over your slit before pushing both appendages inside you. The whimper you let out was choked, brain torn between annoyance and the painful pleasure you were feeling. You didn't want him to think that this would make you forget what just happened, but it was enough to make you forget for now. His fingers set an agonizingly slow pace at first, pulling all the way out and rubbing your arousal over your pussy lips and inner thighs, then plunging back in. He knew exactly how to curl his fingers, exactly how much pressure to place on the bumpy membrane of your g-spot, and the exact speed he has to move his fingers to get to the end he wanted. Honestly, he could've done this from the beginning. One and done. But he has felt a shift in your mood, so he wanted to show you how much he loved you in the way he believed he knew best. "Look at yourself, Mon ange. Look at how adorable your face is." He kisses along your cheek bone, eyes continuously fixated on the reflection.

"Daddy..." Your hand jolts from your clit to Charles wrist when his fingers abruptly speed up and you begin to feel pressure build in your pelvis, a gesture which he clicks his tongue at before using the hand that was still abusing your nipples to pluck it from his arm and motions for you to continue rub your clit.

"Squirt for me, Mon ange. Show me how messy my cute little girl can get. Ruin the sheets, I can get you pretty new ones." He kisses along your shoulder, reveling in the pornographic sounds and faces you made. He watched as you stare at yourself in the pink, Sanrio character covered mirror, unable to hide exactly how good you felt. You couldn't say anymore words, only whimpers, whines, and any other sexual sounding high-pitched noise bubbles from your chest as Charles brutally fucked you with his fingers at a blistering pace. Your vision gets spotty as the familiar sensation floods over you, pun intended. Charles' fingers continue as liquid sprays from you, legs straightening out and shaking as the convulsions of your third orgasm of the night take over your body, liquid flowing from you pooling at your butt, flowing around the blockage to get to Charles' jeans.

"See, Mon ange? I knew you could do it. You did so good for me." His fingers, now removed, traced languid shapes along the inside of your thigh, his other hand that never left your chest now sliding up to your neck, guiding your face upward so could proceed with a messy, rushed make out. You were nearly unconscious, still coming down from your high. "Let's get you cleaned up." You felt yourself being picked up bridal style, arms reflexively wrapping around your boyfriend's neck, face nestled into his shoulder. Your brain slowly became less clouded as you were carried to the bathroom, a reminder of your boyfriend's unwillingness to have you touch him, and how everyone may just be right...

_______

It's only been a week since you posted the video and already it's your most viewed, most liked video. The comments have been raving. So many positive things to say about your outfits and how much people can tell Charles loves you from the way he speaks to you and looks at you. But those weren't the ones that were plastered all over your mind. "Absolutely nothing about any of these outfits are sexy...", "How is Charles able to date this girl when she dresses like a child...", "I am failing to see what she has that Charlotte or Alex didn't have that makes Charles want to be with her...". It was literally only a handful of comments, but each one of them cut you like a knife, and had you laying on the living room couch, cuddled up to your boyfriend, questioning the security of your almost year long relationship.

Your head was resting comfortably on Charles' thigh, his hand moving along your right arm, caressing the flesh gently with his finger tips. You were in some of your favorite pajamas, but as the harsh comments continued to coil around your brain, you could feel yourself physically curling in, becoming increasingly self conscious of your style choices to the point where you were questioning what you wore in the comfort of your own home.

"Are you cold, Mon ange?" Charles pulls the plush pink blanket you kept on the back of the couch down and covers your body, rubbing his entire hand up and down your arm to relieve you from your suspected coldness.

"Baby, what did you think about Alex dressed? Or Charlotte? Did you like their styles?" You don't look at him, you knew you would cry upon eye contact. You could feel his body tense up at the mention of his exes, but he goes on to respond anyway.

"Hm? Why do you ask, Mon amour?" You could feel his eyes boring into the side of your head. He wanted you to look at him. He wanted to see the emotion your eyes gave away so he could gauge where the inquiry was coming from.

"Oh, I- uh...you know. Just wondering. We haven't really talked about your exes." You hope the answer was enough to curb his curiosity, feeling relieved when you feel his hand continue to move again and the vibration though his body as a low hum goes through him as he thinks.

"Uh, well. I guess their styles worked for them. Their personalities. They both were, um, quite, ehh, reserved." He removes his hand from your arm to scratch the side of his nose and then quickly replaced it.

"Would you say you preferred how they acted?" Fuck stealth, you wanted answers.

"Now, I wouldn't say that. Again it just kind of fit them. I can't really imagine them acting differently. Like you personality fits you. Your cute and, uh, bright and the clothes you wear are just as cute and bright." Your subconscious could here the pride in his voice when he made his point, but your forebrain just heard that word. Cute.

"But did you find their personalities more attractive? Like...sexier, or whatever?" You knew you over stepped when you feel his body tighten up again.

"Mon amour, what are these questions?" He chuckled to diffuse his tension, but he still added this moment to a mental list he was making of ways you seem to be second guessing yourself.

"Nevermind, it's stupid." You cuddle into his leg again, giving up on trying to get a clear answer on what Charles really thinks about you. Still he goes on to answer an unasked question.

"Mon ange, I love you, okay? I think you are absolutely perfect the way you are." His hand on your arm moved to your cheek, a singular digit turning your head toward him so he could kiss you. He was telling the complete truth. He loved you more than he could've ever fathomed. His eyes wandered over your face, how your brown skin and eyes glowed in the light of the television. You always just seemed to glow.

"Thank you, baby. I love you, too." You gave the obligatory answer that obviously held truth, but you couldnt help but let the negativity continue to echo through your head. As the night went, the program on the TV became static as you began to formulate a plan to make yourself undeniably irresistible to your boyfriend. Step one: Ditch the cute.

"Mon ange? Are almost ready? We have to get going soon." Charles paces in the foyer of the Belgian hotel suite, typing out a message to his trainer that you two were heading down. He does stop for a moment, glancing toward the bathroom, adding another thing to his mental list of how you've been acting differently. You're mood has been off, much quieter and reserved, and he made another mental note when he realized you haven't talked about video ideas recently. Your outfits have been drained of the pretty pinks and whites and instead have been replaced by dark blues browns and blacks. Piggybacking off of that, it's always taken you some time to get ready makeup wise, but it's also been taking forever for you to get dressed, like you had to force yourself into these new, reserved outfits.

"Yeah, I'm ready..." You were hesitant to leave the bathroom. You worked hard to convince yourself that what you were wearing wasn't much different than what you usually wore. Sure the fully brown jumpsuit was technically darker than the primarily pink outfit staring at you from the floor...and you did prefer a skirt to pants...but this was still an outfit that you would be expected to wear. The addition of the cream colored cropped zip up added the softness to the outfit that allowed you to feel as comfortable as your possibly could. So after taking a deep breath and mentally coach yourself through nonchalantly exiting the bedroom, you approach Charles who breaks away from his thoughts and immediately notices the difference in your wardrobe.

"You look nice." He makes no move to leave the hotel room, wide eyes scaling your appearance.

"You didn't sound very confident about that." You finish applying a clear lip gloss in the mirror on the wall and then look up through your lashes at Charles and his unmoving body. Your heart rate increases as his uncertain tone replays in your head.

"Oh, no amour. You look adorable, really. Your outfits never fail to look beautiful. It's just...it's a bit darker than usual. I'm not used to seeing you in brown. It looks very pretty on you." No smile manifests on his face, instead a wide eyed look that signified that his entire focus was on you, but you still felt the sincerity behind his compliment. But "pretty" and "beautiful" still rang through your head like the most annoying bells ever. The only words that he used to describe how you looked in the skin tight brown bodysuit.

"Thank you, Charlie." You lift yourself up a bit on your tip toes to give Charles a peck on the lips, which he had a delayed reaction to, puckering when your lips had already made contact with his, like his mind was somewhere else. That was further obvious when he stayed stand there, squinting at you, running his "Yn's been acting different" list through his brain. "We should get going..."

"Oh! Yes! Sorry, mon ange. Let's go." He jolted out of his trance, suddenly back in the present where he had to start getting mentally ready for a singular practice session before going into qualifying. And there you were, following close behind, grabbing Charles hand that had reached out for you like a heat-seeking missile.

__________

You decide, for the practice session at least, that you were going to sit up in as private of an area of the Paddock Club you could find. You didn't have the energy to hear anymore "You look different but still cute!" compliments. You knew they all meant well, and they were all only mildly annoying. Kika said it in excitement, asking where you got the jumpsuit from. Daniel came up to give you hug, telling you that you looked "really cute today." Lewis' complimented your outfit, but he also asked how you were doing, dipping his head so he could look you in the eyes as you confirmed that you were fine.

In a normal situation, you would've loved this amount of attention, but when your mind has been flipping through painful past memories where people doubted anything you did and told you that you wouldn't get anywhere dressing the way you did, the last thing you wanted to hear was anyone else saying that you "still looked cute". Yes, you were fully aware that you got to this point in your life, viral video, and thriving YouTube channel and the hottest, most supportive boyfriend on the planet by embracing this aesthetic that allowed you to essentially just be truly and unapologetically you, but what if that cup was running out? What if people were initially pulled in because of the aesthetic, but expected you to change eventually? What if that was what Charles was thinking?

You had already found an empty table in an unfounded corner of the large open room, a large white wall with a TV screen on it, partitioning you from the rest of the room, giving you the moment of soliace you needed. You even briefly closed you eyes to take a deep breath and ground yourself, and it was working until you heard heels clicking toward you. The quiet attempt at retreating is what finally made you open your eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I saw you and was about to come say hi, but then I saw you trying to...meditate or something..." It was Lily.

"You can sit, you know..." You giggle at the fact that she was still standing, but your small smile falls a bit when you see her eyes moving around your appearance.

"Oh, yeah. I like the look, by the way. It's-" You interrupt her words by with a quick "stop" hand gesture that seemed to stop her words and her motions, making her freeze mid-sit.

"If you say 'cute', I am going to rip every piece of hair that I have in this claw clip out." The look you gave Lily made her hesitantly finish sitting, and rethink her compliment.

"You look...nice. Good. Great. Am I getting close?" She places a comforting hand on your shoulder, rubbing gently when you let your head fall onto the back of your hands on the table.

"You're fine. These past few weeks have been...a lot." Lily's hand doesn't move, even when you lift your head enough to turn and look at her.

"What? Your video?" You listlessly lift the rest of your body up from the table and turn to her, not making eye contact and instead messing with your nails, the only part of your outfit that actually fully expressed you.

"Yeah, technically. I never expected it to do that well, but there have been comments..." You look out the window in front you when you hear the approaching cars and let your eyes try too hard to track each car that goes by.

"All I have seen were rave reviews about your outfits and how in love Charles is with you." Her hand is finally removed from your person after her comment, reaching in her clutch that was placed on the table and pulling out her phone.

"Yeah. I guess those are the majority, but there have been other ones...meaner ones..." You trail off into your own thoughts while more cars roared by, continuing to speak when you have the prolonged feeling of Lily's eyes on you, waiting to see where you were going with it. "Lily, how often does Alex say you look sexy in something?"

"I-uh-woah. You caught me off guard there, um..." She stopped to seriously consider your question. "I guess kinda often. Mainly when he can tell I'm excited about an outfit or it's, like, a special occasion. Why?"

"Charles has only ever said I was "cute". Or "pretty". Or "beautiful". Never sexy. Not even if I try to lead him into saying it." You turn around for a moment to check where Charles stood on the practice session leaderboard and how much time was left. "I honestly have no idea if Charles thinks I'm sexy."

"Oh, honey. I'm sure he does." Her fingernails went to caressing up and down your back as she turned all of her focus towards you while Alex goes 3rd fastest.

"A boyfriend that finds his girlfriend sexy would want to, like, fuck her 24/7, right?" You whispered the obscenity as to not attract unwanted attention, but you still asked the question in search of some well needed validation.

"I mean, in theory, I guess. But everyone's relationship is different." She continues to move her hand over your back and you push some of the longer hair from your bangs out of your face.

"Lily, we've been dating for almost a year now, and we've never actually...done it." It felt almost embarrassing to admit it. Everyone talks about how in love you and Charles are but you two have yet to take that step to show your intimate devotion to each other, sans the other things you guys have done you guys have done.

"Maybe he just doesn't feel like it has been the right time. He must have his reasons." You appreciated Lily's optimism.

"Like I'm just too cute to fuck. He doesn't want to defile me." This was the first joke you've made about the situation, and laughing about it felt so good. But you still needed answers, and your question just gave you some direction. "Maybe that's it. What could I wear to make Charles think I'm sexy enough to fuck?"

"I didn't expect to have this conversation when I woke up today. Um...something you can wear?" She took a moment to think and you could see the light bulb in her head switch on. "Lingerie! That's literally 'being sexy 101'. Something hot and lacey. And probably in a darker color, really lay it in thick. He's already obsessed with you, that'll make sure he can't keep his hands off of you."

"Lily, you genius!" You exclaimed, catching her off guard again, this time by throwing your arms around her neck and giving her a couple of light, glossy pecks to the cheek.

"Anything to help." You were already typing away at your phone, nearly vibrating with excitement, imagining Charles reaction. Another round of car roaring traveled by, but the speed of those machines had nothing on that of your scrolling thumbs.

___________

You stood in the overwhelming yet soothing pink of your filming room, admiring yourself in your new lingerie set. Well trying to. It looked really good on you but you couldn't wrap your head around how there aren't more complaints about how itchy the lace is.

"Well, Yn, when the point is to have it taken off of you, the comfort of the fabric doesn't matter, does it?" You chastise yourself, checking out the back one last time, squirming from the uncomfortable g-string underwear. "Okay, let's do this." You take a deep breath and shake out any last minute jitters before calling out to your boyfriend. "Charlie, could you come here?"

"Coming, mon ange." His voice was far off in the distance, but it still made your heart jump up into your mouth and then travel down into your stomach. You look at yourself in the mirror again, trying to ground yourself, but then you heard his footsteps and you gave up on calming yourself down. This was a special moment, nerves are normal and should be expected. "What's up...oh my..."

You were trapped under Charles' stare. Wide eyed, his tongue darting out to usher his bottom lips into his mouth. But then his eyebrows scrunched together and his jaw shifted, so you had to speak to break the nerve racking tension. "You like it?" You wanted to be a bit sexier, but in preparation for this, you only put effort into finding the lingerie. Acting sexy was still foreign to you.

"Uh, yeah. You-you look beautiful, Mon amour. You look beautiful in everything." He walks towards you, eyes dancing over your figure as he reaches for your hands to pull you into him but moving his hands to the sides of your face when you wrap your arms around his torso.

"Just beautiful?" You voice was high trying to coax the right words from him.

"You look absolutely amazing, Mon ange. It's just, you seem uncomfortable." You twist your head like a confuse me puppy. Yeah, you were uncomfortable, but comfort wasn't the point.

"I just wanted to try something different. For you." You unwrap your arms from his waist and rub them up and down his chest.

"Oh, you didn't have to do this for me. I adore you in the cute little underwears you normally wear." That was a last straw for you. That word has been the bane of your existence for the past three weeks. To the point where you haven't even wanted to be around your stuff, which made you even more stressed. You haven't been around your comfort items or felt comfortable enough to film again, so this was you last chance at trying to feel like yourself again and it was blown by a singular word.

"'Cute'. Is that all you can fucking say about me. That I'm cute?" You had pulled away from Charles and placed your hands on your hips.

"Mon amour, I don't understand. Why are you angry?" Truthfully he wishes he was still holding you. He liked to feel your skins under his fingertips. But he instead crosses his arms, watching you pace angrily around the room. His brain couldn't think straight as he watches different parts of your body bounce as you walked.

"Well let's see? The word 'sexy' apparently isn't a part of your vocabulary when it comes to me. Because you refuse to fuck me." You counted out your grievances on your fingers, adjusting the itchy ass bra you had on that pissed you off even more.

"Amour, we definitely have-" Charles attempts to employ a calming tone to try and diffuse your anger, but it was a futile effort.

"Charles, your tongue and fingers do not count." The death glare you gave would've been enough to scare him off in a normal situation, but your temper tantrum was making him just as mad as you already were. "I even had the bright idea that maybe if I acted and dressed like Alex, or Charlotte, or even fucking Giada, that you would maybe want to fuck me. Boy was I wrong!"

"Okay, stop!" And you did. Stopped in your tracks. You turn to face Charles, arms crossed so your boobs were further smashed together in your lacey bra. "I don't know why you keep talking about my exes, but that is going to stop. There is absolutely nothing about them that made me more attracted to them or made me want to...fuck them more than you." It was his turn now to pace in frustration. His hands run through his hair as he tries to block the visual of you in your skimpy lingerie from running through his mind. "You want the truth, Mon amour? I think about fucking you all the time. I think about the noises you'd make, and how cute-yes, cute- you'd look while I fuck you senseless. When you look really cute, like when you have that little pink ribbon in your hair, I think about how you'd look with my cock in your mouth, your pretty eyes looking up at me. Your perfect makeup ruined because of me."

"Wait, so all this 'cute' stuff is just your way of saying you think I'm sexy?" You still had your arms crossed but you were looking up at him innocently, now feeling a bit guilty about being so frustrated with him for the past few weeks.

"Oui, Mon ange. Exactly." He takes a couple of slow steps to walk across the room to you, placing his large hands on the sides of your hair, bring your forehead to him for a kiss. "I think you are extremely sexy. Cute just fits you better. And it doesn't mean that I want to fuck you any less. Now, let's get you out of that and into something you can be more comfortable in..." There's a chuckle in his words as he tries to guide you to your wardrobe, but you don't budge. He should've stopped while he was ahead.

"Wait, no. First, I'm not taking this off. Second, if how I dress hasn't stopped you, than why haven't we fucked?" You take a step back, stopping and standing with your hip flared out and your head defiantly cocked to the side.

"You know what? If that's what you want, fine. Fine! Putain de morveux." He whispered the French to himself as he removed his shirt in a swift smooth motion. Him succumbing to your pleas and attitude was a shock, literally having you frozen in your spot, wide eyed with a small grin growing on your face. "Mon petit ange impatient, you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into." He approaches your frozen frame, almost angrily examining the dark lace fabric that barely covered your body. "This has to come off."

"Oh-Hey wait-!" The rip to the bra made you want to cry, and honestly you had no idea why. You wanted it off. It was fucking itchy.

"Don't cry. I'll get you something just like it, only...cuter." He was obviously taunting you now, a dark glint in his eyes as gave you a devioua grin, daring you to retaliate. But you stay silent, only looking up at him through your eyelashes, eyebrows furrowed. "What? No argument?" One of his hands begin to travel up your stomach to your breast, his rings scrapping over your nipple when his thumb was done running over the nub. Your curiosity reigned supreme as you watched his hand grope you body, and even still you had little warning when his hand rushed up to your neck, lodging right underneath you jaw, applying a small amount of pressure. The location of his hand forced you to look at him, eyes already dazed. "I'm gonna fucking ruin you, Mon ange. That's what you want, huh?" You nod, head still trying to wrap around the mood shift in the room. "Answer me." The pressure on your trachea increases slightly.

"Yes, Daddy." You whine out, the high pitch sounding raspy from the squeeze on your windpipe.

"Non, until you learn how to act, it is Sir. Vous comprenez?" You go to nod, but your neck received a warning squeeze.

"Yes sir!" You quickly corrected yourself, taking deep gulps of air when you're released.

"Bon." He goes back to eyeing you, face blank sans the shifting of his jaw while he thought. "On your knees." Your brows furrow in reaction to the command, initially confused but following directions anyway, slowly falling down to your knees. Charles bends over, capturing you chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilting your face up to look at at him. A grin flashes onto his face and you being to reciprocate the gesture when a his hand applies a stinging slap to your left cheek. "If I tell you to do something, do it immediately. Okay?" The grin stays on his face, unwavering. The fact the he was holding such a calm face after such an offense made your heart race, and unexpectedly sparked a bit of arousal in you, causing you to feel wetness begging to pool between your thighs.

"Yes sir." You sit back into your heels as you answer, eyes still watching his eyes darken, a pout on your face.

"You're a quick learner." His finger gives the bottom of your chin a couple of taps and then one tap on the side as his focus turns to the thin pink ribbon lazily sprawled out on your desk. You head follows his movements as he saunters over to the desk, plucks the ribbon from it, and saunters back over to you, standing behind you. A shiver runs down your spine as his fingers gather up your hair and tie the ribbon as tight as possible around the ponytail he created. "This will be helpful for me and you, Mon ange." His words vibrate through your whole body, his warm breath tickling your ear. When he's done he stands back up and walks back around to stand in front of you, the bends down to run his hands down your triceps to pull your arms out in front of you after previously resting on your lap. He continues on to hook your fingers on the waistband of his sweatpants and his underwear. "Take them off for me, mon amour." Learning from the previous instruction experience, you didn't hesitate with pulling at his pants, brain curious about what will follow. It wouldn't have been the first time you've seen Charles' dick, it just would've been the first time your focus was solely on it, so your excessive eagerness caused a lack of awareness and you were shocked to say the least when it hits you in the face. You flinch away from the appendage initially, but take him in your hand, semi-hard and pink tip glistening with the slightest bit of pre-cum. "You're little face was so adorable just then, mon ange. A little bit larger than you expected?"

He was. You had only seen him in passing. While he was changing or getting out of the shower, and when you did see him he was mostly soft, so seeing him up close, and seeing that as he grew harder from being under your observant gaze he was almost as long as your forearm, it was intimidating. "Yeah. Quite a bit bigger."

"Open your mouth. Stick your tonuge." Your mouth only begins to form the word why when your receive another harsh slap to your face. "Let's try this again. Open your mouth...and stick out your tongue." You do so immediately, looking up at him with a tear rolling down your face from the sting on your cheek that he wipes away with his thumb. "If you want me to fuck you like the little slut you are being, you should know that sluts do what they are told." His thumb continues to gently caress your tingling cheek, but towards the end of his statement he begins to stroke himself slowly, dangerously close to your tongue. "Open a little wider, mon amour." You do as best as you can, your jaw already feeling sore and it hasn't even been a minute.

You try your best to not flinch when Charles guides himself into your mouth, but you didn't have to worry about it because once he felt he was in enough, he brought his right hand down to grab onto you ribboned ponytail to force his cock the rest of the way down your throat. Once your nose hit his pelvis he pulled back on your hair to remove your mouth from him, you making the most obscene gaging noise as he does so. A string of slobber momentarily connects you with the head of his cock before it drops of onto your chin and Charles swears it's the cutest thing he ever saw. "Let's see what your pretty throat can do, mon ange." His dick approaches your mouth again and on instinct you open your mouth, looking up at him as the pushes in, the thick vein that ran down his shaft gliding along your tongue.

The moment his dick hit the back of your throat, more tears began to fall from your eyes, but when you briefly look down, you saw that he still had a bit more of him to stuff down your throat before he reaches the depth he did before. Once he does finish stuffing your mouth, nose at his pelvis again, you rapidly tap at his thighs, making him pull out again. "Yes?" The way he asked way condescending, using the grip he had on your ponytail to make you look up at him. You were quite the sight. Mascara starting to run down your face and your lips and chin glistening from slobber.

"I couldn't breathe." Your whine was raspy and you could stop blinking your eyes as they burned from the mixture of tears and mascara.

"Oh, ma Cherie, focus on breathing through your your nose, okay?" You nod your head and then dutifully reopen your mouth allowing Charles to slide into your mouth again. You do as instructed, trying to focus on breathing through your nose, but soon that became more difficult as he employed his hips in getting his dick down your throat. The sound of your gagging and the sloppy sound of saliva spilling from your mouth with each thrust were a supplemental driving force in bringing him closer to cumming. For you, his grunts and groans, his praises ("You're mouth feels so nice, amour" "You look so cute like this, mon petit ange désordonné."), and the small glimpse you get of your head being forced up and down his cock in your pink framed mirror all did their part in making your pussy so wet that the juices started soaking through the dark fabric of the panties you still had on. You didn't realize that you were zoning out, having to use little brain power as your throat was being used, until he abruptly pulled out, yanking your head to make you look at him again, face more fucked out than before and he hasn't even fucked you properly yet.

"You have no idea how much I wanted to cum down your throat, but I still have to give mon petit ange what she was whining for." He releases your hair and finally steps out of his pants in order to walk over to your pile of stuffed animals. "Ass in the air for me, Mon amour. And here, for your head." He tossed the same Hello Kitty plushie that used to hide his boner during the YouTube video to you and you absentmindedly do as told, enjoying the idea of giving your upper body a break. The way you positioned yourself had you facing the mirror on the closet, so Charles was able to see your tired messy face laying on the plush Sanrio character as he got behind you and pulled the black thong you still had on to the side revealing and sliding his fingers through your already slick folds. You flinch and whimper when the callous pads of his index and middle fingers graze and briefly rub your clit. "Tell me what you want, amour. Use your words."

"Want you to fuck me, sir." You were near falling asleep from the surprising amount of energy that was exerted having your throat used by Charles, but you were still determined to get what you wanted from this entire endeavor.

"Just wanted to check." He removes his fingers from your clit and adds what juices he did gather from you to his cock that was still slick from your mouth. He the line himself up with your entrance that was fully exposed for him and with little to no warning begins to push inside you. He still knew better than to rush it, slowly pushing himself past your folds, but not stopping until he filled you to the hilt. "You're so fucking tight, mon ange. Baise-moi."

"Wait, Charles. You're-I-" He wasn't all the way in when you began talking but once he's finished pushing inside you, you let out the most guttural groan he has ever heard from you. But you still comitted the grave offense of not calling him the right name, so the hard smack you received on your ass brought back the high pitched whine he's heard time and time again. "Sir! Sorry, sir!"

"It's okay, mon amour. I know it was an accident." He has yet to attempt to move, the grip your pussy had on him made him briefly question if it was even possible, but before he tried he bent down as much as he could to get as close to your ear as possible. "I gonna fuck you like the little slut you want to be. Give mon petit ange exactly what she wants." Your ponytail had flared out over you face, so Charles reached to move your hair out of your face before straightening his back again and griping your ass firmly to finally back his hips out and thrust inside you again. You let out similar groans after each slow thrust he gives, whimpering after a while and wiggling your hips a bit to see if you were able to make how full Charles had you feeling more comfortable.

"You feel so deep. I think I feel you in my tummy..." Everything you said came out whiney as you cuddled your head into the plush beneath it. You were completely oblivious to the curiosity you just sparked in your boyfriend, that is until you feel his arm reach across just above your breasts to lift you up so your back was pressed against his chest, now getting the clearest view of yourself being fucked in the pink decorated mirror.

"Let me see." He hitched his hips into you and his eyes couldn't believe what he saw. "Mon amour, look," He moved his right arm underneath your breasts so he could use his left hand to make you look at yourself in the mirror. He pulled out and thrusted into you again and so you could watch as his dick pressed into your stomach, making the bottom of your tummy poke out slightly. "You can see me in your tummy. That is adorable, mon amour!" It was like this sight flipped on another switch in his brain, a switch adjacent to the one that has made him act so cruel. His thrusts became quicker as he reached for your hand to place on top of the disappearing and reappearing bulge. "Keep you hand there amour, I want you to feel how well I'm fucking you."

"Yes, sir." You moan out as best you could, working to make sure your hand doesn't get knocked from it spot. Charles adjusts his arms so that he had a firm grip on you and a hand that could easily reach your clit. Immediately upon beginning to rub, you start to whine and whimper like when you were close to coming when he fingered you or ate you out. In fact, he knew these specific moans meant he would have to brace for a mess.

"Are you gonna cum for me, amour? Make a mess all over your pretty pink room?" His warm breath and thick accent turned your brain to mush, so all you could do to answer was nod, but you felt his grip around you tighten after you do, your only indication that you did something wrong. "Oh, mon ange. If you want to be a good little slut for me, you have wait for me to tell you when to cum. Now you have to wait for me."

You wanted to cry. All the other times he was cruel to you in this fashion it was at least after you got to orgasm a couple times. But denial was an entirely different beast that had tears running down your face as wordless whines erupt from your chest.

"Amour, you feel so good around me. I could fuck you forever. I can't believe I was missing this." You both were in your own worlds, so as he spoke and rambled on about how good it felt to fuck you and how cute and dazed you looked, you brain turned it into white noise, trying hard to focus on the instruction that Charles gave you. You wanted so desperately to be good for him.

"I'm gonna cum, amour. Cum so deep inside you. Make that tummy bulge stay for a while. My first time fucking you and I get to fuck a baby in you." He became progressively less coherent, and surprisingly more french, the closer he got to cumming, and the combination of the warm feeling of cum spurting inside of you and the quick movement of Charles' fingers on your clit that came with his reaction brought you over your prophesized edge, the a mixture of squirt and cum coating your thighs. Charles keeps his firm grip on you as you ride out your shaking orgasm, still coming down from his own high, sprinkling kisses along the side of your neck and whispering praises in both English and French. "You are so perfect for me amour. Mon parfait petit ange."

"I love you, Daddy." You reach back and tangle you fingers in his hair to bring him in for a sloppy kiss, face still messy from the start of the evening.

"I love you too, mon ange. I'll, uh, make more of an effort to tell you you're sexy more often." He maneuvers himself to be able to lift you up into a bridal hold, giving you a small peck on the forehead.

"You don't have to. Cute is just fine. I promise not to be so much of a brat." You wrap your arms around his neck and lean in for a near make out session, giving a few deep kisses that allowed you to tangle your tongue with his.

"I like when you're a little bratty. It is actually very adorable, because you don't do it very well." He chuckles while bracing for a couple of slaps on the chest from you.

"Oh, also, the, uh, baby thing...were you serious?" He began to finally make his way to the bathroom as you inquired about the words he said during his orgasm rambling.

"I guess we'll see, won't we?" This time he stifles his chuckle but doesn't conceal the large grin that grows on his face at your shocked face, kissing the crease between your brows. "Come, mon ange. Let's get you cleaned up."

#formula 1 #black reader #f1 imagines #formula 1 x black!reader #f1 x black!reader #request #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc scenario #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x black!reader #charles leclerc smut #f1 smut #f1 imagine #f1 smau

718 notes · View notes

into-the-feniverse · 2 months

Text

Finished reading Trigun/TriMax a couple days ago and have been feverishly trying to piece together a timeline, so here’s the result of that ✨

EDIT: as of 3/13/24 this has been UPDATED

For a more detailed timeline (with vol/ch marks): google sheet

Full res of the graphic (& other resources): bit.l/trigunresources

Notes & rest of the timeline under the cut!

Edits as of 3/13/24

The detailed spreadsheet is organized and color coded! If you'd like a more concise breakdown of events/see some of my reasoning behind certain time stamps feel free to skim through that

Changed where in the timeline the Maylene and Wolfwood events happened (originally where I had placed them would have made Maylene like 6 when she and Wolfwood reunited which is NOT correct)

moved where in the timeline Knives started collecting the GungHo Guns (at latest he started in 0090 (20 years before 0110) since it's noted that Monev has been training in a cellar for the past 20 years

Moved where Knives initially tracked down Conrad (felt like it needed to happen at least a decade before July)

Changed up some of the months (personally, I don't think the Ark launched in December, since that'd put Milly and Meryl's arrival to the colony in July, which wouldn't make sense. So I placed the ark launch in October which of course offset some of the other month stand ins)

Added an earth year for when Knives and Vash are born. The explanation is I think at minimum there was at least a 2 year period between them and Tesla (since Rem was around for that whole process). I do think it was more than that, but that’s the earliest possible year I think it could have happened. Personally I’m more in the camp of 5-10 years, but def not 50 like in tristamp

Old Notes:

If you see any typos or phrase inconsistencies: no you don’t 💕 (😭)

Blue text can be completely ignored, that’s just kinda my personal preference/wild guesstimating of when “exactly” those events happened

Blue lines can also be ignored, they’re also just rough guesstimates on where exactly in the timeline these could have happened

The distance of the lines from one another doesn’t really mean anything, I started trying to follow a system to notate when things happened really close together but it was//// not consistently done ngl

Fun fact: by the time Wolfwood leaves the orphanage Meryl is 18! And she was 14 at the time of July’s destruction

Additional fun fact: Brad is 17 when he and sensei meet up with Vash in the Factioned city (which I think is absolutely RIDICULOUS), and we know this because he was 4 the one/last time he had met Vash and it’s been 13 years since

It was noted by Karen, one of Meryl’s coworkers, that she and Milly had been on assignment with Vash for about 4 months. (Might be that they were out searching for him during that time as well, but I’m choosing to interpret it as they were actually with him for that amount of time)

I’m also working on a 98 timeline for comparison (but more like just sequence of events cause I don’t think I have the patience to sift through the lore quite as much… mainly making it just to clarify how the anime delineates from the manga)

I am//::: feeling v unhinged after this and feel like it could be improved/i need to do a more thorough read, but I’m calling it quits for now before I actually go insane (but hopefully some people will find it somewhat helpful!)

Also: if anybody has any notes to add or clarifications/corrections I would be more than happy to hear them 👂

#resources #Trigun maximum #Trigun #trigun manga #TriMax #used my last and only braincell on this I swear #also guess I’m expanding on my blog organizing tags —>#timelines #btw this is updated!

268 notes · View notes

ask-whitepearl-and-steven · 17 days

Note

I admire your patience with those readers who need you to spoon feed them the story. Everything is in the comics but they still manage to go pass it. I can't help but feel a bit sad for them? Do they not understand what they read? Are they not attentive when reading it? I'm legitimately concerned because I function so differently I can't fathom this. If you like a story, isn't it normal to make your best to grasp it's essence and reflect on it? I know I project a lot about this, everyone works and registers things differentely of course but sometimes it's very frustrating to see people consume any media and just completely miss all the important messages in it, or even just fail to get the scenario sometimes, and it feels like it's very common now... Idk I just wanted maybe to have your perspective on this? Sorry for the long post (Been here for a few years now and your a true inspiration to me. All my luv to you! ❤️)

You know, I'm gonna be honest. I used to stress out about this... a LOT.

As a story-brained person, this is definitely something that comes naturally to me, and perhaps to you, and to many other people who are wired similarly. To us, following the path of a story in an analytic, highly detail-motivated manner and unwrapping the themes can be as exciting as lifting up a rock to see the bugs underneath. It's an exciting mental activity that's stimulating and feels effortless.

And yes, as an author who spends literally 60% of my day thinking about this comic and how to draw it, panel it, script it, make it better (I script and panel in my head constantly)........ I have trouble realizing/dealing with the fact that some people are just here to CASUALLY enjoy the story that I am lowkey obsessed with.

But I've come to realize that... that's NORMAL! And healthy.

People have different attention spans for different things.

People have varied ways to read a story and engage with it.

People have unique interests.

People don't have the same amounts of energy to devote to reading!

Maybe someone missed a detail I lovingly and painstakingly put into the dialogue because they're reading the update late at night after a long shift at work. And maybe someone scrolled past the dialogue completely and just got the gist from looking at the art, because they're in a hurry to get to practice at their favorite sportsball.

And maybe someone just had a really bad day with a really bad encounter, and they're reading the update in a terrible mood and instead of seeing MY grey-morality narrative, they're focusing on all the negative points and misread the vibes because of their own biases that stem from places of hurt.

The thing is, I have to be okay with that as an author, because I will NEVER be able to get into my audience's heads and read this comic 'correctly' for my own sake.

They will always have a slightly different interpretation of things, and they will always misunderstand details and miss clues. And sometimes, they will be wrong about the way they read a character's motivations... and sometimes maybe they won't be! That's just a part of communication. That's a part of telling a story.

An imperfect delivery, and an imperfect reception should, in my opinion, be a natural and accepted part of storytelling. We're human, and we all have a different lived experience, and we will ALL have different takes on a comic, even if it's so close that we THINK we are both getting the exact same thing. That small human interpretation variation is a home-made touch that makes it feel more organic.

In short.... Not all light particles make it here from the sun, but damn the result is stunning anyway.

#chekhov answers

233 notes · View notes

hyperfixatedbastard · 2 months

Note

Hi i hope you doing well. I have a resquest... more like a headcanon. What if Adam was a dad ? What his behaviour will be ? Does he be a good or a bad father ?

I understand if you don't do it. I don't want to force you for something you don't want to.

Dadam (Dad!Adam) Headcanons

we bringing out the daddy issues on this one boys

WARNINGS: none

A/N: I haven't done a headcanon type of post yet, but they're easier to write than regular one shots and I'm too tired for that shit. The request didn't specify what kind of Reader (spouse or child), so I just went with general headcanons that don't specify the Reader at all. Insert yourself as you wish!

Also, thank you all for your patience! It's been very busy for me lately and I've been too exhausted to write much, so expect a lot more of these kinds of posts (the formatting is easier and I don't have to write a bunch of dialogue lol).

Dividers

As the father of humanity, Adam had...a lot of kids. The guy lived for 800+ years just populating the earth. That's a LOT of kids. We all know how the first two turned out. That is, not fuckin' well. To be honest, I don't think Adam valued his children. It was just kinda... a thing he had to do. (When Abel died and Cain got exiled, he fr just went and had another kid to replace them.) But I am in deep, deep denial and this is for my enjoyment as someone with severe daddy issues. So fuck all that.

At first, Adam is 100% the guy that freaks the fuck out when he finds out he knocked someone up. That man is SWEATING. He's actually pretty chill if it's someone he's in an established long-term relationship with, though. He still freaks the fuck out, but to a significantly lesser degree and with a much smaller chance of up and leaving. Once he's over the initial shock, he's shocked to find that he's kind of excited. Back when he was alive, having kids was just normal because it was such a common occurrence.

This man knows every little detail about pregnancy and infants. With the amount of kids he's had? He has seen it ALL. Sure, all his information is thousands of years old, but knowledge learned through experience is super valuable when it comes to this shit! He doesn't know what the fuck a uterus is, but he knows exactly how to make his partner the most comfortable, how to deal with cravings, etc. If his partner has a problem, he's got a solution. It might be a fuckin' weird one, but it works! He'll probably grumble and complain, but he doesn't actually mean it. Bitching is just his thing, y'know? But... pregnancy hormones + Adam's douchebag-ness = feelings getting hurt. If his partner starts crying because of some shit joke or complaint he made? He's scrambling so fast. "Shit, babe, fuck, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, fuckfuckfuck, don't cry—"

Once the baby is born, he definitely surprises literally everyone but his partner by actually doing helpful shit. Changing diapers? Easy fuckin' peasy (he does watch a tutorial online because he doesn't know how tf modern diapers work but he's a fast learner) Feeding? No problemo. Getting up in the middle of the night to do both of those things? His sleep schedule's already fucked, this shit ain't new.

When it comes to parenting and raising the kid, though... that's definitely where Adam struggles. He'd struggle with bonding. A lot. Adam mostly talks about things that you really shouldn't say around children, much less bond over. I think he'd be better at just letting the kid ramble while he's just sitting there, fully engrossed in whatever bullshit his child is saying. He's not just passively listening with little 'uh-huh's and nods, this man is active in the discussion. Have you ever heard a small child speak? They say the most random shit ever, and Adam would love it. It's peak entertainment to him. Even if it's just incoherent babbling, he'll have full-on conversations with this baby.

He'd definitely have some shared interests as the kid gets older. I think Adam's favorite shows/movies are a mix of action movies and shit like Power Rangers. He's not ashamed of it either—'fuck you, the Power Rangers are fuckin' cool.' This also goes for video games. I know that man is a toxic COD gamer boy and you can't prove me wrong. Basically, the only thing that keeps him from becoming one of those husbands that locks himself away in a man cave to play video games is the fact that he can game with his kid.

And once they get into school, he just gets really invested in the drama. Elementary school drama is such bullshit, and it'd be the best reality TV he's ever seen. "Oh, don't tell me—it's that bitch Cindy. The fuck did that little shit do this time?" He'd be gasping like it's a damn soap opera. 'Oh no she didn't!' kinda vibe.

He'd talk so much shit around his kid about the parents of their classmates, the teachers, anyone. Then the kid would repeat it and Adam would get sat down in the office with his kid like: "Your child said, and I quote, 'My dad says your mom's a bitch.'" "What? She fuckin' is." And yeah, he's not wrong - some of those parents are fucking nightmares.

If his kid got in trouble for fighting, his reaction would depend on the situation. If it was unprovoked and/or a part of bullying, he'd originally laugh it off but would be freaking the fuck out internally. He's probably a little traumatized by what happened with Cain and Abel. But if the fighting was an act of defense (whether of themselves or someone else) he would be the proudest dad ever. Fist-bumps his kid in the office in full view of the principal.

You cannot trust this man to give his kid the sex talk. It just will not go well. Like, if his kid needs advice when they're older (basically anything beyond 'where do babies come from') then he's your guy, but it's still gonna be awkward and uncomfortable. He'd probably have Lute handle most of those issues just so he doesn't have to know about his kid's sex life but can still trust that they have a responsible(?) adult if they have questions.

In terms of where Adam is lacking as a parent, there's a few areas in particular to focus on.

Emotional availability? Not his strong suit. At all. He can't deal with his own feelings, let alone his kid's. Most of the emotional support will be coming from his partner. That doesn't mean he doesn't try. But he can't show it with words all that well. He'll show emotional support in other ways—quality time, gifts, and acts of service for the most part. Like going out for ice cream, watching a movie, etc.

He's not good with discipline. To him, everything's no big deal. If his kid hasn't killed their sibling, that's good enough for him! Generally, his partner will choose when/how to discipline (with Adam's input ofc), but Adam's job is to just enforce it/not overrule it. He's 100% the type to be sneaky about it tho. If his kid is grounded, he'll go out with them to give them a break from being stuck in the house, y'know, stuff like that. Because of this, his kid forms a closer, different kind of bond than with Adam's partner. It's more friendly, I guess is the word? Like, his kid won't go to him for actual helpful advice, but if they fuck up somehow or are in a bad situation that they kinda got themselves into (drinking, car accident, etc.), then Adam is the parent they call.

I think Adam's peak parenting era would be when his kid is a late teen/young adult. 'Cause then he can actually be himself, for the most part. His personality is not very kid-friendly, so once his kid isn't really much of a kid anymore—he is so fucking excited. His relationship with his kid would be a lot more unconventional as they grow older. Like, he's really close with his kid once they're an adult. (totally not basing this off my relationship with my mom) His advice would be shit, but he'd give it if his kid needed it!

Definitely the type to text his kid more often than most parents. Mostly because he texts more like them and has the same sense of humor. Lots of shitty memes.

Also!! I think Adam would definitely make time for his partner. Date nights are a must. His kid better get comfortable with sleepovers at friends' houses or getting babysat by Emily 'cause he ain't letting parenthood fuck up his sex life.

I think that's all I got. Not sure how to end this so uh... shoutout to all you bitches with daddy issues lmao

Taglist: @little-miss-chaoss @fakeguysarehot @3sire-777

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel oneshots #hazbin hotel headcanons #headcanons #adam headcanons #hazbin headcanons #adam x reader

341 notes · View notes

tarjapearce · 2 months

Text

Chapter 7: Silent Violence is Humbled

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

WARNINGS: Tension, Angst, emotional discomfort, fluff and comfort towards the end, Strained friendships, verbal abuse, character introspection, character study, anger, hurt, family dynamics.

Summary: Karma keeps it's siege, and a new milestone hits the mark.

A/N: So. sorry for the delay, had to make some reports for my internship (I'm almost done and out with it 🥹 yay.)

Leaving the hospital wasn't precisely good. A new debt was added to your already trembling credit and to top it off, you were left with meds, a scheduled appointment with a therapist and a plethora of vitamins and supplements.

Of course you had reported everything but the gruesome details to your immediate boss. Not that she didn't sound convinced, rather shocked you were in the hospital.

You only could hope complications wouldn't be a regular guest in your life and bank account.

"I can hear you thinking from here. You ok?" MJ mumbled as she stirred a couple of eggs into the pan. You stared into the endless and spiralling void. Picking at the hospital's pale blue plastic band around your wrist.

You had spaced out as soon as you got home, the remnants of the perilous encounter with Miguel somehow still remained etched to your skin and mind. Unable to let go completely.

"I think I'll start looking for a better paying job somewhere else."

MJ watched you for a second, "You'll quit Alchemax?"

With a groan, you slouched on the dining table, placing a hand ontop of your head

"I'd love to, but I can't yet. Not until I have something certain anyways. Gotta suck it up for a bit more."

"I'll help you look up on other companies, who knows maybe we find a better thing for you. I don't feel comfortable with you being there with that crazy asshole working in there too. Do you want extra bacon?"

"Pretty please. Thank you, MJ. And yeah, if you're not a scientist in Alchemax, you're basically another exploited worker."

"Stop thanking me. You're my best friend. And I'll help, let me ask Peter if he knows about something somewhere."

She served the breakfast and placed the plate before you. Mayday announced her awakening with a mumble, her tiny hands rubbed her eyes to then look around sleepily, until her blue eyes met MJ.

You couldn't help but stare at the motherly displaying ritual.

Mayday's eyes lit up, shining brighter as MJ approached with a genuine smile that only matched her daughter's.

Your best friend enveloped her little girl in her arms, showering her in affection, earning her a couple of lovely squeals.

"Rested well, sweetheart?"

"Ma ma"

Those syllables alone made your heart leap as a myriad of emotions flooded your brain. The concept you had of it wasn't nothing alike what you were witnessing. There wasn't unnecessary yelling, cussing or physical abuse. All the opposite. A little rush of envy coursed through, but it faded quickly as it came.

It was odd, really. To behold such intimate moment of bonding between the both. It came so natural, full of love and everything you, sometimes at your age still were getting acquainted with. Patience, understanding and caring.

Mayday rested her head on MJ's shoulder and stared at you. Like seizing you for the first time ever, paying attention to your very moves, curious, scrutinizing your soul with her lovely and innocent eyes, leaving no room for disingenuous acts.

You gulped

"Hello" You waved coyly and your heart trembled with something unknown as she giggled your way, approving of your presence. She knew no evil nor judgement. Mayday didn't judge you. Just like her mother. She was pure joy.

"When's the shrink's appointment?"

MJ's voice snapped you out of your mutinied thoughts.

"Uh in a month or two." You mumbled while digging in your breakfast. It tasted like utter love and heaven after having nothing in your stomach for more than a day, and your stomach tolerated it well.

"Are you nervous?" MJ fed Mayday with the bottle, your mind subconsciously took notes of the way she held, fed and talked to her.

"Very. Not a fan of spilling my issues to strangers, even if it's their job."

"I know it might be difficult for you, considering the shitty attention you had before with them. But if the doctor says so, you must do it."

"I know." Your lips sighed, heavy with resignation to then purse into a tiny smile, " I just wanna move on, you know?"

"You will, I know so. You're strong, sweetie. Now eat up and drink your vitamins."

You chuckled, feeling her maternal instinct through the table.

"I think I'm already gaining weight."

MJ chortled as she wiped Mayday's cheek and lips, to then kiss the tip of her nose.

"Wait until you get your feet swollen, the hormone changes. Acne on your back, and the need to jump on-"

"Ok! ok, got it." Your cheeks flushed as the redhead just laughed now at your embarrassment.

"It won't be easy, but you'll get used to some stuff. You'll see."

-----

If there was something that Peter wouldn't openly admit, was the fact he disliked Miguel's sense of disposition of his time.

Sometimes his friend's hubristic demands had him juggling between his own time and his family.

Peter hated when Miguel simply let him know he was on his way. He didn't care if he was busy or was about to be, but also meant one thing. Stress was eating Miguel alive and he, as his best friend, was the only he could rely onto to take away such heavy burden.

With a sigh, Peter prepared mentally for the night. Specially to give his ever patient wife an explanation of a sudden visit. As if the universe made sure MJ and Miguel to never properly meet beyond pleasantries. If they had seen and meet eachother a couple of times was too many.

MJ was either out because of work, leaving him and Mayday alone, or the days and hours Miguel visited were when MJ was already asleep or too busy to sit and socialise with her husband's friends.

Peter has known Miguel for a couple of years by now, and still things didn't change.

He put a couple of beers to cool, then stirred the pasta. Miguel wasn't a picky eater, yet it made Peter stress over the food choice. But MJ wanted pasta and he was none to ignore his wife's whims over his friend's.

How long has it been since he saw Miguel? Months? Half a year? He didn't remember, but hoped that he wouldn't stay too long. Work had chewed, ate and spat him on the floor way too many times to count today.

His shoulders slumped, defeated before hia daughter's sweetness when Mayday gave him a toothy grin, he returned the smile, although tiredly.

"Let's get you some dinner."

He held his daughter in one arm, as he served a bit of noodles in her favorite spider-ham bowl and somw juice in her sippy cup. Peter put her in her chair and placed the food before her just in time as the doorbell rang.

"It's not that I don't like him, you know? I'm just tired today." Peter mumbled to himself and Mayday as he scratched his stubble and walked over the door.

May could only look at him, curious, bur the bright colors of her cup demanded her attention. To his little surprise, the man in question was there, scrolling through his phone in the meantime. Dressed in a casual button shirt, dark jeans and dress shoes, holding a small bag of sweets as a gift.

"Could you please start letting me know when you're coming over from now on? It's not that hard."

Peter's frustration wafted through his words as Miguel chuckled and followed him, the smell of cologne tickled the host's nose, almost a bit too pungent.

"Had to. Needed a distraction. Here"

He handed the paper bag to him, full of artisanal mexican sweets. At least this time, Miguel was thoughtful enough to bring something he knew Peter liked.

But it also meant one thing. A long night ahead.

With a sigh and defeated shoulders, Peter went to the kitchen, rummaging through the simple glassware to fetch a couple of glasses.

"I have... soda, apple juice, can't give you the beer until Mayday's asleep."

Miguel just quirked a brow and went for water. It was kinda bothersome for him how something so trivial as drinking a beer was a forbidden thing among parents whenever their children were around.

Overprotection and alienation from such things would only make them curious if anything. At least that's how it worked for Miguel. Still, it was Peter's home, and he had to play by the unspoken parenting rules his friend followed to a T.

How inconvenient

Miguel's eyes wandered through the table to land on Mayday. As a happy kid she was, the sauce was smeared all over her cheeks and chin, even her hands and forearms. Some noodles hung on her chin.

Even though his logical side appealed towards a scientific fact about babies discovering everything through their hands and mouth, the sole idea of having to deal with it on a daily basis and probably at every hour the kid would be awake and eating, made his eyes to tear away from the child and sigh, relieved he didn't have to cope with that sort of problem.

He had done his part, and against all logic, you had decided to keep the baby.

Pendeja. (Dumbass)

He huffed, annoyed to none but himself.

What would you do? It wasn't his problem anymore. He had more important things to think about than you and your stupid choices. His jaw clenched.

" You're gonna scare Mayday if you keep glaring like that."

Peter spoke as he cleaned up his daughter after feeding her with some bits of sausages. Miguel sighed as his arms untangled from his chest. A habit he subconsciously adopted as he was way too deep in negative thoughts. He gave his body some slack. He had came here in order to relax amd distract himself.

"Wanna tell me what happened or you wanna wait by having some pasta?"

In fact, now that Miguel was here he could take a good look at the scene before him. Peter had changed so much to the point of transforming himself into a completely different persona.

There was no more staying up past one am, lost in beers and talking about whatever thing alcohol made him spill out of his mouth. Reluctantly, good days. And now Peter was serving him some overcooked pasta that somehow tasted good. Even for him.

Hypocrite.

His mind reprimanded himself. He had wanted kids once but now seeing how it changed and rewired the brain chemistry and your fiasco, the thought of them had been shoved to the very back of his priorities. He had a career and money to make, not play house amd happy family with a stranger.

As much as Peter was his only true friend, he didn't want to look awful and perpetually tired because of a kid, like him.

With a sigh he dug on the food while staring at the both. The tangy smell of the sauce induced the little hunger he ate the pasta. A couple of minutes later passed when the key's tinkering echoed from the main door, revealing none other than MJ balancing a couple of paper bags in hands.

Miguel watched as Peter immediately rushed to her side and helped her out, while welcoming her with a kiss.

"Smells good!" MJ chirped and made her way towards the kitchen, Mayday's eyes lit up as soon as she saw her mama. A bubbly squeal received her when MJ ruffled her fiery curls and took her in her arms, rattling Miguel's ears.

"Hello there, precious" MJ kissed her cheek but then focused her gaze on Miguel. He tensed briefly to then give a polite smile.

"Hey."

MJ nodded and gave her respective hello back. Peter came into the dinning table with an awkward smile. He didn't need to explain the presence of his friend to his wife, as she quickly picked up the cue to get Mayday to sleep.

For some reason, the energy in the room was suffocating. As if Miguel was the black hole sucking the life and energy out of everything even without intending. Yet, Peter tried to shoo the negative aura that lurked around ominously by unpacking the groceries as he talked to MJ

"How was your day?"

"Good, a bit tiresome. But definitely better now than I'm home."

"Want extra cheese in your pasta? Oh! Miguel got us some candies."

MJ smiled politely at him, "Thanks for that. I loved the eh... Maz-uhpan?"

"Mazapán." he corrected gently.

"That thing. Peter, dear can you get the tub ready for May?"

It was Peter's cue to meet her in private.

"Excuse me." She took Mayday and Peter followed, leaving Miguel alone for a moment. Giving him a break from unwanted displays of family dynamics.

Once in the bathroom and away from prying eyes and ears, MJ cleared her throat

"Before you get angry, I didn't know he was coming until fourty five minutes ago."

MJ quirked a brow knowingly and huffed.

"I know. Still, the least he could do is to let us know he's coming over, Pete."

Peter nodded while rubbing his face, tiredly.

"I'm sorry, ok? Will make him go away soon. He's not having a good time right now."

MJ rolled her eyes while Peter added some soap to the water.

"Yeah, he only comes for a visit whenever he needs something out of you."

"MJ" Peter grunted the silent plea. 'Not now.'

She chuckled and kissed his cheek, "You know it's true. But, if it works for you, then ok. Just don't stay up past one. You snore too loud whenever you get little sleep."

"Relax, he probably just want to ramble, take a beer and leave."

"Alright, alright. He could tone his perfume a bit though. I can smell him from here. Go have fun."

-----

The beers clinked in the table, their taste numbed briefly Miguel's throat and tongue. It burned good as the sour liquid rolled down his esophagus, while Peter rambled on about the many pictures he showed him of Mayday.

Not that he didn't appreciate Peter's attempt to make him forget whatever problems were pestering his mind. But if honest, he grew tired after the sixth photo.

"You should have another."

That made Peter shut up and he chuckled.

"No no. With her is enough."

"You sound regretful."

Miguel mumbled as he finished his beer, Peter shook his head vehemently.

"At all. I know I look like shit, Mig. Still, would do it all over again. Like, look at this!" Peter got the screen close to his bored face with another picture and Miguel pushed it away softly.

"Yeah, she's a pretty girl. Got it."

"You don't get it. Once a kid shows up, everything changes."

You've got no idea...

His mind replied, as his body tensed once more.

"Have you talked about this with Dana?"

The name only made the urge to down the other beer in a go, but his mind almost slapped some sense into him and reminded him this wasn't his home.

MJ's steps alerted both men briefly as she came for her extra bowl of soggy pasta and wash Mayday's bottles.

"We broke up." He stated simply with a disdainful shrug

"What the fuck?

MJ turned to Peter, a brow quirked at his choice of words but focused again on the bottle.

"Miguel, you texted me, saying you were looking for wedding venues with Dana. And now you're single again?"

MJ's breath hitched.

Dana

Oh God

Dana D'Angelo.

Miguel's fiance. And the one that slapped you.

MJ had been so busy with work and her motherly duties that totally forgot about her husband's companion.

Miguel.

The man that only relied on her husband's company whenever life was too much for him. An acquaintance that she had only seen a couple of times and shared the same roof as her, although briefly in the few times Peter invited him over.

And also, the man that had gotten you pregnant, and had sent you to the hospital in a fit of rage. The very man that was causing you so much pain, had taken a place on her table, with her family and now was talking comfortably with her husband about his failed love, thanks to none other but himself.

Her heart wrenched and beat so fast in between powerful contractions that it made her breath shaky.

A monster was in her home. A terrible man had waltzed into her safe space and was tainting with his rottenness everything he touched, with his pungent and hubristic smell. His cologne and attitude only made her stomach churn.

"It didn't work out."

She turned to see him, unbelieving in her green eyes. So well behaved, ever polite and not an ounce of guiltiness in his judging stare. Entitled even, as if the world owed him just cause he existed. MJ understood now why it was so easy for you to fall into his trap, but the anger that clawed at her brain was greater than anything she had experienced before.

How dared he come into her home and play the victim when he had forsaken you and his child? How dared he disrupt the natural balance in her house with his mere presence?

"She was getting too annoying for me, anyways. Always behaving crazy." Miguel gestured with a terse movement of his hand before slicking his dark brown strands back.

Oh, how dared he. Those last words made her patience thread to stretch impossibly thin, that it broke.

"Well of course she'll act crazy! You fucking cheated on her!." MJ's hands balled tight at her sides, and glared daggers at Miguel.

Both men snapped to look in her way.

Miguel's eyes widened and Peter blinked almost stupidly at his wife and then at his friend that seemed like a deer caught in the headlights. Few little things in life managed to surprise Miguel, and MJ exposing his dirtiest secret to the only person he trusted outside Dana so carelessly and abruptly, had definitely caught him off guard.

"W-What?"

"He cheated on Dana, Peter."

Miguel swallowed thickly, a shaky breath turned into a steady one, anger coursing through his veins, his mahogany eyes narrowed.

Not them too...

He rubbed his face and hair again, trying to remain composed. If Dana had came for him and gave him no truce, MJ went straight to the jugular. Remorselessly for the kill.

How did she know?

A new wave of fury washed over him at the sudden implication his mind was brewing with, his hand clawed at his bouncing knee.

Did she know you?

What a sick, twisted and small world he lived in. Of course she did. Or else he wouldn't be here, trying to come up with a reply to his shocked friend. But he was cut short from everything, even thinking.

"You don't know shit." Miguel couldn't help but hiss, and his words were enough to throw Peter's patience out the window.

"That's my wife you're talking to, pal." Peter scowled, flabbergasted at Miguel's words as he stood with a warning finger waving at his... friend?, "Tone it the fuck down."

"She doesn't know what she's talking about, Pete!"

Miguel felt ridiculous, not only cause the now constant need of explaining himself, but the absurdity of the situation. He was holding his friend's arm, trying to get Peter to believe him, just like he did with Dana.

But Peter was focused into getting MJ calmed down as she kept cussing his way

"Of course I know, asshole!" She spat, "I know enough of you to say how much of a piece of shit you are!"

That definitely earned her a growl "Whatch your fucking tone"

"Or what?! You'll try and hurt me too like you did with (Name)?! My friend has been suffering nonstop because of your pathetic excuses of being a man!"

If the many years prior to marry MJ taught Peter something, was that if she used foul language meant she was beyond pissed, and rightfully so. She wasn't one for cursing, and things surely would end up terribly wrong.

"You cheated your fiancé, got my best friend pregnant and demanded her to get an abortion-"

"Wait... You... you did what?" Peter's eyes widened and hardened, Miguel was cornered as Peter faced him, still containing his wife.

"No, no. That's bullshit!" Miguel's hand gestured as the other anchored to his hip. His poor attempt of bravery did nothing but set the fire ablaze in its full glory, it all had caught him so off guard he barely could think of comebacks to fend for himself.

"God... You're such a fucking liar!" Peter held MJ back as she seethed, trying to get a hold of Miguel, "I was there at the clinic with her! Cause she tried to correct your fucking mess!"

"I tried to fix-"

"You don't get shit fixed by writing her a fucking check and tell her to get rid of your child! Man the fuck up already! She's so under so much pressure now-"

"Because she's so stupid and chose to fucking keep that thing!" roared Miguel. Tired of being cornered without his usual pretense of control. Shoulders heaving with shaky and wrathful breaths, realizing the mistake he just did.

Peter glowered at him. Not only had he dared to yell at his wife but had been lying to him this whole time. And Mayday was crying. The commotion had been too great that woke her up.

Another pillar in his life was crumbling around, shaking the little constants he still remained with, to their very core.

Peter seized with him a look he had never seen before in his apparently dumb face. Disgust. He was about to protest but Peter's question only brought him to a too bright and unwanted spotlight.

"Is that true?" The tinge in Parker's voice held nothing but utter disbelief, not accusing, but skeptical. As if realizing he was being fooled this whole time as well. Peter slapped Miguel's hands away as he tried to reach for him again.

Shit

His aloof act had spreaded way too fast that didn't give it time to properly root and settle on his inner's circle brains ro control later. Peter growled at the stretching and pregnant silence.

"I'm fucking talking to you." The hard push of his hand made him sway softly, "Is that true!?"

Miguel's eyes widened. Peter's bravado and anger was something he didn't know until now. If honest, Miguel thought of him a complete goof that did everything his wife told him to. A complete mandilón.

If MJ told him to bark, he would and even do a flip while at it. But this man before him was different. Confident, authoritative, honorable, pushing his patience to new limits and oh so disgusted at his actions. A true father and man, unlike him.

A reluctant daddy.

Miguel really had a hard time grasping the magnitude of his doings and how they affected others, cause his remorse was absent. Everything he should be feeling at this collective verbal berating was gone. He was more focused in the defensive than offensive, and he failed.

Upon Miguel's silence, Peter just stared at him and sighed. He wasn't worth it.

"You need to leave, Miguel."

Ash soured the aforementioned throat. A thick lump knotted tightly on Miguel's windpipe.

"What? You're believing every word that comes out of her just like that?"

The question itself was stupid, he knew much so. But Peter didn't budge, in fact, he didn't even look at him as MJ went to fetch her daughter.

"You gotta be kidding me, Parker"

"Am I fucking joking? No. Leave." He shimmied away from Miguel's grasping hands with a disgruntled growl

"Look, I know I fucked up, okay-"

"Damn right you did" Peter pushed him away once more

"Can you listen?! " Tanned fingers sunk on Peter's arms forcefully, preventing him from escaping further, but that only earned him a powerful shove that made him nearly fall. Unlike you, that barely moved him an inch .

"Not this time. I talk and you listen. My home, my rules. Don't like it, get the fuck off." Peter hissed, the day's misfortunes and stress had piled up in his brain and Miguel's actions did nothing but set it all on fire.

"You can't just come into my house unannounced, yell at my wife for calling you out and your bullshit and expect me to remain quiet." His hands moved frantically, "You can't go around acting stupid, being a shitty friend, hurting people and believing the world owes you shit, Miguel!"

Peter turned his back on him, breathing deeply, trying to control the rising anger, finally breaking contact. His shoulders slumped with defeat.

"I knew you were an asshole, but c'mon man... Your own child? Really?" His blue eyes felt like an iceberg caressing upon seizing him a over his shoulder.

"Y dale con la misma pendejada... I did what I thought was right, okay?!" Miguel protested, trying to appeal to that good side that definitely lacked right now.

Peter turned again and stepped in a few strides closer to him, fear lacked in his glare, instead a fiery and scorching fury burned within

"Manning up is the right thing." His calm seething only made Miguel gulp, "Owing your mistakes is the right thing to do!" Peter's voice raised an octave louder

"What kind of fucked up logic is to think you can choose to cheat but choose to not face the consequences?!" Peter jabbed with force his index finger at the treacherous man's chest before him as he hissed every word.

"Funny thing is that you always saw me as a clown. Always bragged on how perfect your life was and thought of me a man child." Each word that came out from Peter was like a stone hitting Miguel,

"And look at you now, acting exactly like that!. How ironic that the roles reversed now." Peter's voice trailed off.

Miguel rolled his eyes so hard it hurted "No me jodas, Parker. Don't fuck with me with your shitty morals You didn't want children either, remember?!."

Disappointment and repugnance plastered all over Peter's face as he shook his head.

"People can do something called change, Miguel. Call me whatever you want, but at least I can say I am a man, cause I owe my mistakes. I don't go around screwing people over and then leave them to fend for themselves."

Peter went to the main door and opened it, with nothing else worthy to spill at Miguel, "Get out."

"You're an hypocrite. When you didn't want kids, everything is alright, but when I do I'm a fucking monster?"

He wasn't welcomed comed anymore. And this only added a couple of more weights in his already heavy bag of burdens, igniting his arrogance even further.

"Are you seriously playing the victim right now?" Peter huffed, "Grow a pair, Miguel. You need them. Get out."

Peter was done, all the energy that had been left was sucked out of him and the stranger before his presence was his biggest leech, he awaited for Miguel to leave, which made the exposed man's chest tighten uncomfortably. The friendship had crumbled. There wasn't anything left for him to salvage anyway.

"Fine." He took his jacket with a forceful grab, "Have it your way then." He spat and left the house with a slam that shook the doorframe.

Your eyes raked over the cream colored walls, as your back nested comfortably against the stretcher. Silence reigned with such deliciousness it soothed your underlying nerves.

A month and a half had gone by ever since yiu had that unwilling visit to the hospital, hitting the sixteen weeks of pregnancy. Your meds worked relatively good, and so did the vitamins to the point of getting a bit more strength and color in you.

But today was different. Everything felt different ever since you woke up. The sheets felt divine, the mattress had the right amount of hardness to help with the lumbar area.

The water in the shower felt heavenly on your skin, it was as if the universe was preparing you for a surprise after so many tough times.

Whatever it had planned, you hoped it was good, or at least, digestible enough to not choke you with it.

The doctor, Mrs. Vincent, typed some information in her computer, then stood to whir the machine alive.

"Lift your shirt up, please." Once you did, she smeared a dollop of blue gel on your naked belly, something you barely had the chance to admire, too busy trying to adapt to the emerging changes in your body.

Some clothes had stopped fitting and if they did, they were a chip too tight. The baby bump wasn't enormous like you had thought, but it wasn't small either, after all, Miguel was a big man. It had enough curvature to make your belly poke out from any clothes you had.

I feel like a walking avocado...

MJ was sitting next to you. Although you felt guilty because of the scene Miguel created at her home, she was more than happy to put him in his place, and so her husband. Peter.

Bless him.

You haven't properly known the man but that action alone of standing up for you against his friend of years, made you a bit hopeful.

You weren't looking for a partner, much less a father to the creature growing within, the least you wanted to do was to complicate yourself even more and add another thing in the already long lists of stress you went by.

But in truth, you wished to be there to see his downfall. Not that you were spiteful, but karma surely was a beautiful thing to watch. And the thought of him being this scared and uncomfortable man, the opposite of what you had seen and experienced, made your lips curve into a satisfied smile.

Life had heard your pleas and you were thankful.

Your breath hitched as soon as the machine's accessory made contact with your skin. Cool plastic, like the cold gel all over your skin.

"Let's see", Dr. Vincent mumbled as she adjusted her glasses in her nose bridge. The white light illuminated well the, place, her faint smell of vanilla perfume tickled your nose, it wasn't an offensive perfume, but it made you a little queasy.

It definitely shut down the medicinal smell you had been received with.

Dr. Vincent's gloved hands took the transducer and gently moved it around your belly.

"Does it feels cold?"

You nodded with a nervous smile, "A bit, yeah."

Mayday's giggles echoed behind you, MJ shushed her with some gentle words and her breath hitched when she looked at the screen.

The redhead looked like was experiencing so many things for the first time again, yet she held your hand with excitement thrumming in her skin.

"Look at that, Mama"

The word still made you uncomfortable, but the way the doctor had spilled it felt oddly soothing. The baby was there, etched forever to your womb, growing within your guts each passing day, squirming like a little worm, making it's presence known with a kick.

MJ could only watch as you chuckled. Your features softened the more you stared at the screen. But then your eyes widened at seeing the baby's 3D image.

Resting against one of your womb, comfortably, squeezing it's little hands over and over.

And if honest, curiosity had gotten a vice like grip on you. The way the baby moved and nested within you was equally disturbing and beautiful.

The transducer moved all over as Dr. Vincent looked up the right angle. Breath grew short and caught in your throat at the doctors next words.

"There she is"

MJ gasped, excited and your eyes turned bleary.

A girl. You were having a girl.

"Congrats, Mama." The doctor printed the pictures.

The little bean inside was a girl. There was no longer an it, no longer the creature, or the baby.

Despite the though times you've endured, she was healthy. Perfectly developing, a bit underweight, but healthy.

A myriad of things crossed your mind, panic, admiration, fear and so much confusion. They all swirled inside your jumbled head, fighting over the control of your emotions.

MJ squeezed your hand as soon as she noticed the red-ish hue blooming in your nose and the glossy eyes.

A little sniff was stifled. The doctor smiled at your apparent emotional reaction.

"It's ok to cry. I've gotten too many boys in the week, seeing a girl a was a change of pace. Thank you for that, hun." Dr. Vincent spoke with a sweet voice.

You couldn't help but sob silently. Digesting every second of what had just happened. The nauseas had subsided momentarily, as if sensing you needed your strength for something else.

It didn't help your hormones that Mayday took a hold of your finger, big blue eyes staring at you with pure child like wonder as if demanding your attention. Your lips quivered, and when she cooed your way, you broke.

It's alright.

She'd surely say. MJ held you close, rubbing your back in soothing circles, letting you absorb the news at your own pace.

"You ok?"

You nodded, holding onto her tightly.

"It's a girl, MJ"

Your best friend smiled sympathetically your way, "Indeed. And she's healthy. You've done a fantastic job in keeping her that way, sweetie. I'm proud of you."

Her words did nothing but make you cry harder.

"I'm so scared, MJ"

"I know. But it's alright. I'm here and Mayday too, remember?"

You chuckled in between tears and sighed, while wiping your tears.

"I'm so scared cause... I don't wanna repeat things all over with her."

"Then let's make them differently, ok? I'm here. You're not alone."

You hugged her once more.

"Let's celebrate, yeah?"

"I... I don't know if I should even do that, all things considered."

MJ chided your name gently.

"You deserve it. You've faced so much already, this little girl right here" She placed her hand in your belly, "has stayed healthy and perfect because of you. You've done so much. So let's celebrate that, ok?"

Even if you thought yourself undeserving of such thing, you nodded and followed her.

You wouldn't admit it, but a deep deep part of you bloomed with a little seed of curiosity and excitement.

-----

Taglist:

@serpentstarr @randomnobody187 @8xbygirl @del-ightfulling @iytatsworld @moonzuzuu @huehuehuehuehehe @ryk-mt @deputy-videogamer @sizeablysized @katitakenway @stealyourblorbos @beingdeluluisthesolulu @death-moth-art @obsessedwithromance @crybabiixo @spiderpapi2099 @tremendouswolfsaladranch @cherrycosmos392 @sbrn0905 @xylianasblog @elgatofx @eepiebeepie @vonev @tatatida @freehentai @scaryplanetdestroyer @minalovesyoubabes @emeloyy @migueloharastruelove @jdbxws @m4dyy @nyxzoldyck6 @fruitychae @francesca-the-1st @siidmm @ana-paulinathe-arts @artyanimi @damhanallagorm @lauraolar14 @what-is-your-wish @oharasfilipinawife @jellyboob @aockskcw @ittybxttykxttytxtty @smartyren @plumplum2099 @angel-of-the-moons @reader-1290 @kaidxra @kimmis-stuff @amberpanda99 @orangemango7

#t writes✨#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #Of Flowers and Hummingbirds #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara angst

210 notes · View notes