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#i got done in six hours what normally takes me six days
drakulana · 27 days
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no strings attached // trafalgar law x reader
ᯓ★ summary: your situationship with law is on the rocks, what happens when you meet a stranger who looks a little too much like your captain?
ᯓ★ wc: 7.1k (i got carried away...)
ᯓ★ content: NSFW 18+, afab!reader, insecure reader, slightly obsessive law, unestablished relationship, alcohol consumption, pwp, oral (m & f recieving/giving), a little impact play, humiliation, edging, fingering, a little bondage, petnames, cheating (kinda not rlly), p in v, dubcon, safeword mention (not used), no y/n, nice little ending, lmk if i'm missing any!!
ᯓ★ a/n: i'm really excited to post this work. i've been working on it for quite some time. i hope y'all enjoy! (also bear w me, its my first time writing smut & posting it.)
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the relationship between you and law was hardly established, and on the outside looking in, it was a fairly professional one. that being said, it was obvious that he preferred your presence over anyone else’s. you would help him with the things he needed done, the things he couldn’t get around to while he was working endless hours in his office. he would let you sit in his office while he worked, a comfortable silence being shared between you two as you both did your own thing. the relationship itself was very much a professional thing at the beginning. over time though, conversations between the two of you became deeper, and became more frequent. conversations that included things you wouldn’t tell someone in just a professional setting. the sharing of personal experiences and ambitions created a warm, safe environment behind the closed doors of his office. here, the world outside the door was just a little less hard to deal with. 
day by day, things between the two of you grew to be more than you had both intended. as things continued to become more intimate, it was only a matter of time before the two of you began to speak about your desires with one another. the conversation started as any other, but quickly got more heated the further it went on. question after question, both of you shared your own sexual experiences, likes, and dislikes. that night one thing led to another, and you two became intimate. sleeping with law was one of the best sexual experiences you had ever had, and the feeling was mutual, because now you were in his bed almost every other night. the relationship grew from strictly professional, to the two of you relieving each others stress at the end of the night. from the start though, it was very clear that there was nothing more than the sex, and in the morning it would go back to the normal, previously professional dynamic. both of you were content with this, and agreed it’d be better overall if this is how it stayed. no strings attached was less complicated, and safer for everyone all around. at least that’s what law was telling himself for the past few months that you two had been messing around. 
a few months into your sexual endeavors, the sex became less frequent, maybe once a week on average. law was busy and more distant, and you were trying not to take it personal. you would still sit in his office with him, and do the things he couldn’t get around to. you would help him out with whatever he needed. however by the six month mark, you two hadn’t been intimate in weeks. you had tried to come on to him, to initiate it a few times, but after being turned down you decided he was gonna have to come to you. you knew deep down it wasn’t personal, you knew he was busy. you both agreed to no strings attached when this started. there was no reason to get torn up about it. tonight though, you were in your head, and feeling undesirable. the crew was going out tonight, and you decided you were going to join them this time, rather than sit in law’s office in the silence that you usually would feel comfortable in. 
it wasn’t unusual for you to go out with the crew to a bar every now and then, but you hardly ever drank. tonight was different. there was tension growing in your head, and you decided having a couple drinks would aid the dull ache, and unresting thoughts. your third drink in, the muscles in your legs and shoulders had started to relax, giving way to the alcohol. a haze had glossed over your vision, and for a while you didn’t even think about how undesirable you had felt. for the most part of the night, you bonded and laughed with the crew. everyone sharing their own stories and making jokes out of their misfortune around the table while you were all growing increasingly drunk, reminded you of why you even came out tonight. excusing yourself to the bar while shachi shared with the table a story from the past that he told every time he got this drunk, you went to go get your last drink of the night, deciding this is where you cut yourself off. 
it was late, probably nearing about 1 in the morning, and you were really drunk. more so than usual. usually by this time you were back at the ship sitting in laws office laughing about all the things that were said between the crew, filling him in on what he had missed. you sat yourself down at the bar and ordered yourself another drink, pushing the thoughts of law out of your mind. you knew another drink was overkill, you were already very inebriated, but you didn't let that stop you. a man around your age had settled next to you. “her next one is on me,” he announced to the bartender. the bartender nodded his head, and slid you the drink. you glanced over at the man. he was fairly attractive. he had dark hair, some facial hair, brooding gray eyes, and was notable in height. he reminded you of your dear captain. the same captain who you had been trying to keep from plaguing your thoughts all night. “thank you,” you smiled at him as you took your drink and sipped it. “what’s your name?” he asked you. you gave him your name as a conversation was struck up. you glanced back at your crew, and they were engulfed in their own conversations, laughing at one another. you turned back to the conversation. the air at the bar was different than it was at the table with your crew. it was calmer up here, although it smelled stronger of alcohol, not that you minded. you could actually hear the tunes playing over speakers, it was an old song, one that you had heard your entire life, “my parents use to play this song all the time,” you had told the man sitting across from you. he smiled at you, “bring back any good memories?” he asked. you sat and you thought for a minute. it had been a while since you thought about your childhood. the life of a pirate usually meant an estrangement from parental figures in your life. there were a few notable memories from your childhood that you could point out, like your mother’s smile. how it would curl upwards, exposing dimpled apple cheeks, or your father’s laughter. it would boom throughout any room, bouncing off windows and picture frames. a sigh left your lips, “yeah, i guess there are a few good ones.”
before you had known it, almost an hour had passed and your ‘last drink of the night,’ had turned into four more. that’s when a question you weren’t expecting fell from the man who had been keeping you company, “do you want to get out of here?” usually the answer would be a fuck no but the alcohol had gone to your head at this point. the question oddly made you think of how undesirable you had felt in the presence of your captain, the same man who had to have been your new stranger friend’s doppelganger. it wasn’t like you to take someone up on an offer like this. you were not a one stand type of gal. tonight was different though. your insecurity was a flame inside of you, and you stupidly tried to put it out with alcohol, ending in it only feeding the fire inside you. you glanced back at your crewmates once again, weighing the options in your head. “why not?” you finally answered grabbing your things and heading out the door with your new friend. 
once again, you weren’t one to sleep with strangers. in fact you had thought one night stands were a thing of your past. but here you were, walking into this guys apartment for a quick fuck. you didn’t even know his name, but it was much too late to ask now. you almost felt guilty deep down inside for thinking about sleeping with another man, but there were no strings attached to you and law’s relationship. was it really wrong if there was hardly a relationship out of work and sex? you pushed away your drunken thoughts as the man led you to his bedroom. the apartment was neat, and smelled of wood and a slight cigarette smell. the smell wasn’t comforting like the pine and paper smell of law’s bed. the whole time you were with this guy, you were constantly comparing everything he did to law. he wasn’t as big as him. he wasn’t as gentle with you. his hands were rough as they roamed your body, gripping and groping in places that weren’t particularly pleasant. he didn’t satisfy your needs. the entire time, your captain couldn’t leave your mind. the stranger made you feel dirty. you didn't even finish.
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back at the bar, the crew was getting ready to wrap up their night when the captain walked in. “captain! fancy seeing you here, you decide to drink with us?” shachi and penguin giggled, obviously drunkl. law looked at his crew almost annoyed, immediately noticing that you were not grouped in with them. “i thought (y/n) had come out with you tonight,” he stated, not answering the question that he was asked. 
“oh, she did,” someone chimed in. law furrowed his brows, his frown deepening, “well, where is she?” he asked, the tension in his voice growing by the syllable. mumbles of i don’t know’s and i thought she went back to the ship fell from multiple mouths. until someone else spoke up, “i think i saw her leave with some guy about half an hour ago,” bepo piped up, from the middle of the table. he was the only one who seemed to make sense. law tensed at the bear’s statement. “did she now?” he rhetorically asked, but was answered by one of his crew members. “yeah! he looked an awful lot like you too… weird huh?” they giggled. law was very obviously agitated. he felt a vein start to pop in his forehead, and for a second he could’ve sworn he felt betrayed. that was before he had reminded himself that the relationship that you two had was strictly work then sex. he couldn’t feel that way towards you, there was no reason he should. he only saw you as a close friend, right? he mulled over his thoughts before grunting, “tell her to come see me whenever you find her,” and with that he walked out the bar door, returning to the polar tang where he could work in his office alone. he knew that he hadn’t had sex with you in weeks. he knew that you had previously tried to come on to him and he rejected you. what he didn’t know was that you were just going to leave the bar with a stranger. 
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back at the strangers apartment, you had come to terms that the sex wasn’t good. you didn’t even cum. by the time the guy was laying down in bed after discarding the condom, you had already gotten dressed and were ready to go out the door. “where are you going?” the guy asked, looking at your shape in his bedroom doorway. “i have places to be,” you muttered walking out of his apartment, and making your way towards the dock. it was now probably about half past two, maybe even three, and you were still very drunk. you doubted your crew was still at the bar. the walk back to the submarine was one filled with shame. you felt dirty, and wished that you weren’t as drunk as you were. every foot fall came with the reminder of your weight, and every other step there was a sway in your posture. the lights glared in your blurred vision, and the thought that you might not make it back without blacking out crossed your mind until you caught a glimpse of what was both your solace, and your demise. the polar tang docked at the port.  
as you stepped foot on the ship, drunken guilt consumed you as you passed various crewmates turning into their chambers for the night. you were on your way to shower whenever you ran into bepo. “hey, captain wanted to see you when you have a moment,” the bear told you. on the outside, you had just nodded, but on the inside your heart dropped. you knew that law knew. law always knew. nothing could ever go under his nose like that. you decided you were going to shower before seeing your captain, to try to sober up just a little. besides, you didn’t want to see him with another man’s scent on you, and you wanted to scrub yourself clean.
you thought about the events of the night as the warm water cascaded down your body, soaking your hair. you couldn’t believe what you had done, or why you had done it. you scrubbed until you couldn’t, leaving your skin with a red hue to accompany the self loathe. stepping out of the shower, you hyped yourself up to face your captain, but you were sure you were not going to be able to look him in the face. consumed with guilt and shame, you had dressed yourself in baggy clothes, and made your way to the captain’s chamber. 
knocking on the door felt like an unnecessarily hard task. an ache settled between your temples as you urged yourself to just knock. after a few minutes, you finally knocked on the door, awaiting for an answer. there was a shuffle, and then a silence. as soon as you went to turn away, you heard a muted “come in.” turning the handle, you faced reality. the room was dark, other than the small light from law’s desk that illuminated the corner of the room. the familiar comforting scent of pine and paper, with a dash of ink filled your nostrils.  for a second you relaxed. that was until you met law’s eyes. he was sitting at his desk, hands folded in front of him. his eyes held a dark glint, making you shiver. you knew that he knew. 
“did you have fun tonight?” he asked. his voice bounced off the metallic walls of his chamber, making you feel small. there was a tone to his voice you hadn’t ever heard before, a new bitterness. a bitterness that was aimed towards you, it mixed with something that was almost envious. was that, jealousy? not knowing how to respond, you stood there for a second and let the silence engulf the both of you. it was loud, so loud that ringing set into your ears, amplifying the ache that had started outside the door. finally you answered, “not really,” a sigh escaping your lips as you spoke. your voice came out smaller than you intended. you kicked yourself internally. you thought you sounded weak. inside, law felt his jealousy ease slightly. a small sense of pride rushed to his head at your answer, you were clearly not satisfied with what you had tried to seek out. in a sense, he almost felt as if you deserved the lack of satisfaction. he didn’t understand why you didn’t ask him first, even if he did reject you a couple times. surely, you weren’t so insecure that you wouldn’t ask once more? another silence fell over the two of you as you took your seat in front of his desk. the mountain of papers sat on either side of him as you held eye contact with his. “did you find what you were looking for?” law had asked you, getting up from his chair, making his way over to in front of you. his tall figured towered over you, his shadow casting over you from the illumination of the small desk lamp’s yellow light. you stayed silent, not wanting to answer his question. you felt embarrassed, turning your gaze away from law’s eyes and down to the floor. a heat rose in your cheeks as he stood over you. “you know, when your captain asks you a question, it’s better to answer than to ignore it,” law started, dangerously calm. he lifted your chin up to meet his gaze, “i’ll repeat myself only this once. did you find what you were looking for?” 
the tone law had used with you made your head spin. it made your mouth grow dry, and caused you to stumble over your words. it reminded you that no matter what the circumstances were, he was your captain and he held every power over you. “i-um...” you tried to avert your eyes away from his but his grip on your chin never wavered. “no,” you finally were able to spit out. your voice came out small, pathetic, and it surely didn’t help that you were still drunk making them come out slightly slurred. you internally cringed at how you sounded in front of him. law crouched down to your level, now face to face with you. his stared into your eyes, hand moving to the back of your neck, not letting you look away, “and what exactly were you looking for, doll?” he asked you in a low voice. law rarely used pet names for you, every once in a while one would slip in the bedroom, but never in a conversation like this. especially not one you deemed to be a tense one. you opened your mouth, trying to form a sentence. finally, words tumbled out of your mouth, “i-i.. don’t know..” you voice shook, “i’m sorry la-” before you could finish, he cut you off. “address me in the proper manner,” he ordered. for a second you were taken aback, but you quickly fixed your mistake, “i’m sorry, captain.” 
“tell me, were you so desperate that you had to go sleep with a stranger?” he lowered his mouth to your ear, tucking a stray strand of hair behind it. his voice was no more than a whisper, but it still held such a dangerous air to it, reminding you that law’s reputation was earned. you didn’t know how to respond to him, truth is you didn’t know why you did it. at the time, it didn’t seem like a big deal with the whole ‘no strings attached’ agreement. you didn’t feel desired by law, and you were getting tired of waiting. you honestly thought he wouldn’t care. however, sitting in front of law made you realize that there were indeed strings attached to this arrangement. you knew he could be possessive, and it was stupid of you to think he would be okay with such a thing. a light kiss below your ear brought you back to reality. law’s hot breath fanned your neck as he lightly nipped, causing a heat to grow in between your legs. “tell me, did he fuck you as good as i do?” a small gasp escaped your lips. “o-of course not, la-” he cut you off, wrapping his hand in your hair and giving it a light tug. “it’s captain to you. that’s the last warning,” he spit through gritted teeth in your ear. he retracted his head and looked you in the eyes, “how about you show me how sorry you are,” with that, law released your hair. for a second you were confused, that was until law was undoing his jeans and pushing you down onto your knees. his long member sprung out of his pants as he pulled them down. he held his cock with one hand, and the back of your head with the other. he held your gaze for a second, silently asking if you wanted this. after a slight nod from you, his grip on your hair tightened. your mouth fell open at the sudden tug at your roots, law took this as an invitation to enter your mouth. 
law was hardly a rough lover, but you had also never pissed him off to this extent. his thrusts into your mouth were relentless, drool ran down your mouth as tears began to well in your eyes and fall down your face. it was becoming too much. you clawed and hit into law thighs, but to no avail, there was no stopping his torment on your throat. “what is it? i thought you were desperate?” he spit at you, holding your tear filled gaze, occasionally wiping a tear that ran down your face. this change in demeanor had heat pooling in between your legs, begging for some sort of friction. after what felt like years, law finally pulled out of your tortured throat. you gasped for air, holding onto his legs for support. your head spun, and for a second you could’ve sworn you started to see stars. a large tattooed hand gripped your upper arm, yanking you upwards making you stand on unsteady legs. before you could gain your composure you were bent over his desk, papers falling, and crumpling against you. you were met eye to eye with various pages out of medical journals, pages filled with your captain’s messy handwriting, and lists of numbers that you were too dazed to even comprehend. law’s left hand pushed down on your back, making you arch up into his figure. his right hand traveled down to the seam of your pants, dipping his fingers under ever so slightly. despite how roughly he handled you, he caressed your body with a gentleness no one would think was capable of him. he leaned down to meet your ear once again, moving his left hand up your back, his right inching further down past the elastic band of your pants. the wetness growing in between your legs became an ache. subconsciously, your thighs tried to squeeze together, to get some sort of friction, but law wasn’t gonna let that happen. he slotted a leg in between your two thighs to keep you from giving yourself any type of relief. you fought the urge to grind down on the thigh that he had placed in between yours. that left hand of his traveled from your back to your torso leaving electric pulses in its midst. he moved his hand up your torso, finding your breasts and taking one in his hand. his fingers rolled across the already erected bud eliciting a strangled moan from you. you jolted back into his touch. law let out a hum of approval before whispering into your ear, “did you tremble at his touch like you do for me?” he asked you. you tried to catch your breath to answer, only able to fill your lungs half way before letting out a broken, “no,” law stopped all his movements, depriving you of any pleasure he was providing. “no, what?” he asked you. “no, captain,” you answered him in another struggled breath. another hum of approval came from law. his actions continued. 
law pushed his hand further down your waist band, being met with the cotton panties you had slid on after your shower. his hand slid down your ass, grasping at it before moving down to the hem of your panties. you leaned into his touch, hoping he’d give you some relief, but he didn’t. he lightly rubbed your pussy through your panties, not giving enough pressure to actually relieve the ache that was starting to grow unbearable. “captain,” you breathed out, trying to grind down onto his touch, but to avail, he would not let you. law’s hand abandoned your breast, sliding up your chest to grip your throat, “if you want something, beg for it,” he ordered you. his grip on your throat tightened just enough to make your head spin. you gasped a breath, losing balance in your legs. a pathetic whine left your throat, “please, la-,” his grip tightened on your throat causing you to correct yourself, “please, captain. please, touch me,” you choked out. it was almost humiliating how desperate you sounded. law complied with your request. his fingers pressed into your wet core through the dampened fabric, eliciting a moan. he hooked his fingers under the fabric being met with your wetness. the hand around your neck craned your head towards his so he could look you in the eyes. his piercing gold stare met your eyes, “you’re this wet, all for me?” he asked you in an almost mocking tone, “is this what you wanted to achieve? tell me, is this what you wanted, doll?” his gaze never wavered, demanding an answer. the truth was, you didn’t really know the answer. you wanted to feel desired by law, and it was clearer than ever that he definitely desired you. you didn’t know law was going to react this strenuously. you thought it was going to be an argument. in a way, this was what you wanted. you must’ve taken too long to answer, law brought your face closer to his, “answer me,” tears welled in your eyes as you nodded at your captain. he let out a huff before shoving two long fingers into your wet cunt. a moan ripped from your throat as he thrusted into your pussy. jagged breaths, and strangled sniffles wracked your body. “you crying? you wanted this,” he spit at you before letting go of your throat. his fingers pulled out of you, leaving you on edge, a whine leaving you, “tell me you want this,” he demanded you. a vigorous nod came from you, “i want this. this is what i wanted,” you slurred to him.  law's hands made their way to your pants, finally pulling them down along with your panties. goosebumps rose to the surface of your skin as the cool air of the ship hit it. you heard a rustling behind you, and then felt law’s thick cock press against your hot core.  
your head spun, and your hands grasped at papers. law grabbed your hands, holding them behind his back, mumbling something along the lines of, don’t go messing up all my work now, as if he wasn’t the one who pinned you to the surface. you heard a jingling of a belt, and then felt cool leather wrapping around your wrists. the action was domineering, but his movements were kept sweet. his breath fanned over your ear, making you shiver, “give me a safe word,” he told you as he fastened your arms behind your back. law paused his movements as you tried to gather your thoughts into a single cohesive word. law’s actions had your world spinning, lining your visions with stars. you finally breathed out the word. seconds later, law was back to what he was doing. you struggled from underneath him, as he gathered your wetness on his tip, spreading it over your pussy before pushing the tip in. law sucked in a deep breath, and you let out a moan. his hands pressed against the small of your back as he pushed even further into you. you both simultaneously let out a sigh. neither of you could deny the pleasure of feeling each other, being intimate with each other. it was a short moment, but a sweet reminder that no matter how rough law would get, this place was safe. 
law’s hips snapped back before he bottomed out all the way to the hilt, stretching you out. your walls squeezed around him, making his grip tighten on your waist. his fingerprints were sure to leave marks by tomorrow morning. breathy moans fell from your pretty mouth, coating law’s ears with that sweet melody that he had come to love. law’s thrusts sped up, and for a moment his hand left your waist, relieving the building pressure he was putting on your hips. that was until a large tattooed hand came down with a hard smack against your ass. you let out a loud yelp. law shushed you, “you wouldn’t want anyone to hear how much of a slut you are, would you, sweetheart?” he mocked you, “keep quiet,” he ordered you. another smack came down on your other cheek. “count,” he ordered, “that was two,” another smack. stuttered whimpers left your mouth as you tried to form the word that was stuck on your tongue. law cut through your thoughts, “that was three. come on now, doll, don’t make me start over,” he taunted you, his thrusts never stopping. another smack. this time you moaned out the number, “f-four,” it came out slurred, and weak. you could hear law smile, “good girl,” he praised you. he rubbed your ass soothing the sting of his spanks. just when you thought the assault on your ass was done, another came down, this one harder. “f-fiv..” you barely could finish the word. law tutted, thrusting hard into you, stopping once he was fully sheathed inside you, “is that the best you got? can’t take it?” he taunted. his question was met with a moan in response. he leaned over your figure, pressing your stomach into the hard wood of his desk. he thrusts continued once again, his hands back to soothing the skin on your ass. another smack, “s-ix,” you choked out, as a sadistic laugh left law’s lips. law brushed your hair over your shoulder, pulling up your shirt to expose your back. as fast as the cold air hit your skin, law was pressing warm wet kisses down your back, biting at your shoulder blades. long skilled fingers, massaged the muscles on your lower back, all while maintaining the arch he had you in. it wasn’t long before law’s thrusts started to get sloppy, his hand tangling into your hair, knuckles pressing into your scalp. your moans mixed with his grunts, filling the room with sinful sounds. you were just about to reach your climax, the white hot ball that was growing within you was finally starting to unravel when law pulled out of you. a whine left your lips in protest, but law pulled you upright by your arm. he pulled you close to him, “i’m not done with you, yet,” he told you. 
he lead you over to his bed, sitting you down on the plush surface of his bed. law kneeled down in front of you, pulling you to the edge of his mattress. he spread your legs, exposing your wet core to his room. law took in the sight of you from between your legs. your hair was a mess, your face was red, and your eyes were fogged over with lust. your body trembled with every breath you took. for a second, law almost felt bad for going so hard on you. that was, until he had remembered what you had done. you were his. you needed to know that, and he was going to make sure that you knew that by the end of this night. he would make sure you would have no desire to ever try to be intimate with another man other than him. law was a possessive man. he was protective over the things that he cherished. some would even go as far as to call him downright obsessive. he wasn’t spoiled, but he would see through that he would get this one thing that he wanted, and right now that one thing was you. 
law held eye contact with you from between your thighs. sweet kisses were pressed into your thighs. hums of contentment left you, and those sweet kisses turned into nipping and biting at the sensitive skin. law started to suckle on the skin, leaving red and purple hickeys to mark you. he would make sure from now on to leave at least one, so others who tried knew who you belonged to. the bites soon turned back into kisses, as he made his way closer to your dripping core. law looked back up at you as he let his tongue connect with your wet slit. he moaned into you, lapping up the sweet wetness that gathered at your entrance dipping his tongue in ever so slightly. law’s tongue traveled up to your clit, flicking at it resulting in your hips jolting up. the more law ate your pussy, the more you wiggled around until law had finally had enough. law took one of his arms pinning your hips down to the bed, muttering a ‘stay still.’ you obeyed. he went back to work on you with that merciless tongue of his, suckling and licking at your clit, traveling down ever so often to just ever so briefly fuck you with his tongue. you felt fingers start to run up your thighs slowly, eliciting sweet sighs and moans from your mouth, that melody that law would never get tired of. 
the tips of his fingers traced their way all the way to your dripping hole. his tattooed finger slid into you, smoothly, squelching the wetness against the knuckle, “so wet,” law whispered, more to himself than anything. he was always enamored by your pussy. he would spend hours in between your legs if he had the time. he loved touching you, working his fingers and his tongue on you, seeing what different reactions he could get out of you. where your favorite and least places to be touched were. he took pride in making you feel good. in fact, if he weren’t so mad right now, he’d probably spend all night in between your legs, but to him, you didn’t deserve that. you didn’t deserve the undying affection he wanted to give your pussy. however that thought did not stop him from sinking in a second finger, or from taking your clit in his mouth, rolling it against his tongue, spelling his name as if it were some kind of chant to claim you as his. 
your chest rose and fell at a fast rate. you were practically heaving for air. law loved having this effect on you. leaving you all breathless, and undone beneath his lips. he felt your walls clench around his fingers, your moans started to get shorter, and more close together, he knew that you were about to come completely undone. law decided he’d let you get to the very edge, make you think he was going to let you cum, but you didn’t really deserve that just yet, did you? he had to make sure that you knew that he was the only one who could demand and deny something like that to you. so he stopped. he pulled his fingers out of your pussy, your juices leaving them sticky and shining. he pulled his mouth away from your clit, leaving you a writhing whimpering mess. he shoved the slick covered fingers into your mouth, muffing your protests, “you will cum when i say so, understand that?” he asked you. you nodded around his fingers, causing a small twisted smile to grace his lips for just a second
he undressed himself the rest of the way, crawling onto the bed next to you, laying on his back. he grabbed your arm, pulling you over to his lap. “ride me,” he ordered you. you breathed shakily. as you positioned yourself above his member. law held a hand on your hip, helping you guide down onto him slowly. your breath hitched as you slowly slid down onto his cock. law was big. you knew that, but he seemed to always feel a few inches bigger whenever you rode him. you slid all the way down, your pelvises kissing. a deep groan fell from law’s mouth. you could listen to him make those sounds all day, if he’d let you. you slowly started to bounce on top of him, your arms still tied tight behind your back. your thrusts were sloppy, each one making another moan fall from law’s mouth. his hands gripped at your hips, guiding your hips in a more calculated way. law was a control freak, even in bed. “c’mon, is that the best you got?” he said to you, his tone demeaning and mocking. it was hard to balance when you had nothing to hold up your body. you wanted to fall forward, against law, but he held you in place. your eyes squeezed shut as you bounced up and down, law’s hand guiding you. his grip on you was hard, guaranteed to leave bruises in the shape of his fingerprints tomorrow morning. your movements were unusually uncoordinated, and it frustrated you. a huff left your mouth, as you struggled to clean up your movements against him. law noticed this, “no need to get upset, baby. just do it right,” he taunted you. law would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying watching you struggle. getting all frustrated at not being able to preform the way you wanted. this went on for a few more minutes until law had finally decided to grant you some form of mercy. 
law pulled you off of him flipping you onto your hands and knees, your face smushing down onto his pillow. you arched your back, presenting your core to him. law admired the sight in front of him. the soft yellow glow of the bedside table lamp illuminated just enough for him to see the slickness dripping from your folds. he had never seen you in such a desperately needy state. part of him was rushed with pride. he made you this way, helpless and needy, all for him. the other part of him still panged with jealousy. he even felt a small trace of betrayal in the whirlwind of emotions consuming him. he let that drive him. that's what drove him to degrade you down to nothing but a whining mess. it was strange, a woman who held herself with so much conviction, groveling beneath him. it was interesting to him, how much power he actually wielded over you in this moment. it wasn't right him feeling this way, he knew that, but he couldn't find it in him to give you any mercy. a quiet and low sadistic chuckle left his lips as he traced the shape of you. his hands leaving warm trails over your body. you relaxed for a minute before one of his fingers had dipped itself into your wetness. a quiet moan left your lips, only to be replaced with a whine as he pulled his hands away from your body. 
law sat back on his heels, admiring you in this position. you truly were beautiful. even all restrained, and begging to be touched, you were beautiful. law couldn't fathom why he had even let you slip through his fingers in the first place. he never thought that you'd ever try to leave him. he understood why you did, but he never thought you'd do it. he swore he would never let you even try to leave him again. he would never give you a reason to, and if you tried he'd carve your pretty little heart out of your chest, and put it in a glass jar, just for him. he would put it on the edge of his desk, so he could watch it beat just for him. for now though, he would have to remind you that you belonged to him. tender hands undid the restraints around your wrist, rubbing at the freshly raw skin. his hands left your wrists, letting them fall to support yourself. his hands guided along every curve and divot in your body, leaving a warm sensation where his fingers trailed over your body. “so beautiful,” he whispered, more to himself, “and all mine,” he leaned down trailing kisses down your spine, and down to your ass. all the sweet, and tender touches were all halted with a harsh bite to your asscheek. a yelp left your lips, and an amused huff left laws lips as he retracted back, satisfied with the mark he had left on you. he turned you over to your back to he could gaze down into those pretty glistening eyes of yours. he leaned down, bringing you into a passionate kiss, before trailing his way down your neck and chest, leaving love bites in the midst of his teeth and tongue. “all mine,” he whispered once more, locking eyes with you, “who’s is this?” he beckoned you, almost mockingly. the word left your mouth without thought, “yours.” law was satisfied with this answer, propping himself up above you. he lined his cock up with your entrance, holding your hips up in just the right angle, before pushing back into you.
being inside you was pure ecstasy. it brought on emotions that law had never felt before. it made his head spin, and his cock twitch. you tightened around him, and he knew you couldn’t last much longer with how many times you had been denied. law felt his climax start to build, “you wanna cum?” he asked you. your arms wrapped around laws shoulders, nails digging into his shoulder blades, “yes, please captain, please,” you cried out. law’s thrusts were now sloppy, and his grip on you was tighter than it had been the entire night, “cum for me,” he breathed. the hot white fire started to finally unravel within your stomach. your slick walls tightened around him, pulling him in, milking his cock. your head spun, and stars collided with one another. both you and law's moans mixed filling the room with sinful sound. a few more strokes, and law was burying his seed deep inside you. 
law collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms. his hands found their way into your hair, running his fingers through your tangled strands. your head laid on his chest, your eyes closing, welcoming the blackness of exhaustion. before you drifted off, a few words that left law speechless fell from your mouth. “i love you, law,” your voice was soft and sweet, and if it wasn’t so silent in his room, he would have missed it. he looked down at you. your eyelashes were now resting against your cheeks, and your cheeks had a rosy hue to them as your breathing leveled out. law had so many things he wanted to say to you, to confess to you. his tongue twitched to respond, but instead he pulled you tighter against him, deciding that conversation was better suited tomorrow morning when you were both well rested. for tonight though, law was going to relish in those words and let them replay in his mind, counting them like makeshift sheep as he fell asleep with you in his arms.
⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹
@drakulana 2024 // i do not give permission to copy, translate, or repost, any of my content without my consent
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lightwing-s · 3 months
Text
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒
𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐯 ; 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞
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pairing: jason todd x fem! reader
summary: when everything seems go, at least start, to go right, you're getting to actually enjoy the thoughts of your pregnancy, things take a turn. no, not a turn, a fucking spin, a descent in a downward spiral. basicallly, you're fucked.
word count: 10,3k (yes, i'm actually very surprised i managed this) warnings: pregnancy, medical talks, bad parenting and terrible fathers.
a/n: it took me too long to finish, i know. but i did enjoy my time in carnaval before almost dying from a flu. the chapter is long and is very important to the future of the story, so please, don't be mad at me for it. take breaks, eat while your reading, idk, do your thing. ily and i missed you ♡♡♡
reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡
links: previous ; next ; series masterlist ; general masterlist
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You thought that telling Jason about your pregnancy would be the trigger that would set your life into a downward spiral. That everything would be different once it was done with. You would be different, he would be different, and the world would be different too. However, the days that followed could not have been any more normal.
Although your mind was still clouded with anxious pregnancy thoughts, your days went on as usual. You woke up early, exercised and went to work, just to come back home hours later to do whatever it was you got on your mind that night before going straight to bed. The only indications of your condition were the looming thoughts and the excessive tiredness you carried everywhere with you.
It was like the world around you didn’t get the memo your whole life was about to be totally different just a few months from now..
And the world didn’t have to. It didn’t care that Yn Sn was pregnant. It would continue spinning around, circling the sun, like it always did. Day by day, minute by minute, like nothing had changed. And in the great scheme of things, nothing had. You did. You were the one who had changed. You were different, or at least you would become. Good or bad, nothing was gonna be like before. You would keep changing as the world would always be the same.
In the great scheme of things, the world didn’t revolve around you. Your life wasn’t a linear movie plot, troubleless and predictable. It was proving to you right then and there that it wouldn’t hold your hand and give you a rulebook on how to proceed with every little thing. You were on your own to figure out this journey. It was now about you. And him.
At first, you only noticed the small differences. You were tired, more than usual. It seemed like every move you used to make swiftly was now heavy and took you double the effort to complete. Two days after your talk, Jason went back to the clinic to pick up the full test results, and had it delivered to you at your door. You didn’t invite him to stay, nor did he ask you to enter, and you opened the envelope to find out you were about five to six weeks pregnant by yourself. It meant the baby was now growing faster and faster, and providing all that extra energy was what had been draining you off yours.
Your trips to the toilet became more frequent, even if your water intake had remained the same. That had raised one or two eyebrows at work, but considering the amount of things you were all working on, no one had given those bathroom runs their full attention. However, your new breast size didn’t go as unnoticed. In fact, it became a big topic of discussion between your coworkers, where each person tried to bet which surgeon had given you a cup size that was almost double of what yours originally was.
Then, there was also him. Every single day since you’d broken the news, Jason woke you up with a good morning text. He’d ask if you had slept well, if you were alright, and if you had gotten sick at any point the day before or if you craved or wanted anything. He knew it was about time you got morning sickness and cravings, and he wanted to do what was best to keep you and his baby in perfect condition.
He seemed to care about this baby a lot, even this soon. Not even the most positive scenario you could’ve come up with had you imagining he’d be this sweet, this nice. Actually caring and attentive. Yet, here you were, and he made sure to always tend to your needs whenever he was needed. But he wasn’t needed that often. Except for the good morning texts and your subsequent daily health report, you two didn’t talk much.
Nessie, your best friend, was also really into the idea of this baby. Daily, she’d flood your messages with baby videos and pics, pregnancy tips and motherhood articles. She might as well be the mother of this child, because she was certainly more excited than its real one. She had even told her own mother about it, letting her know she was going to be an “auntie” and how she should bring gifts the next time she comes over to visit.
You haven’t even considered telling your parents about it yet, brushing the thoughts away every time they’d come up in your mind. In fact, most thoughts about your pregnancy were brushed aside, as you were still not ready to fully accept this new reality of yours. 
Thus, a couple of weeks went by since you’d last seen Jason. As normal as they’ve ever been. Then, it was a Thursday night. One where you found yourself spread on your sofa, craving sweets and a large pizza, with your best friend sat on your living room floor, rambling excitedly about something you weren’t paying much attention to.
“... and, even though everyone knows he has a fucking girlfriend, he was at the party with not only one, but two other girls. He’s such an asshole!” Nessie spoke about whatever season of a TV show she was rewatching. But your mind couldn’t have been any further.
You stared at your phone screen, reading and rereading, again and again, the last messages in your chat with Jason. He had just asked about your day, if you felt sick or anything, and instead of giving him your usual and very formal reply, you went on and on about your sudden desire for dessert pizza. You didn’t know what had gotten into you, but your fingers were faster than your conscience and without a proper thought, the message was sent.
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. 8:24 PM
hey, how are you feeling?
. in desperate need of a good chocolate pizza . id kill for it . not really kill for it . yk...
🤣
You hoped you could be faster and delete it before he got a hold of his phone again, but the laughing emoji told you you were too late for that. Now, you laid there, overthinking your text when there was nothing you could do about it. Much like your pregnancy. Dumbass.
“Yn, are you even listening?” your friend called.
“Y-yeah. It was a really bad season, that one.” Without even moving to look in her direction, you gave her a half assed reply. 
“Yn… What are you talking about?” she asked you, confused.
“Aren’t we talking about the Bachelor?” you tried to confirm, now moving on your side to see her eye to eye. However, her incredulous face told you you’d completely missed the topic. Offering her an apologetic smile, she rolled her eyes at you and threw you a pillow.
“No! I was talking about Dick Grayson?” She raised an eyebrow and you looked at her with your brows furrowed. “Gotham’s resident playboy? The one that was seeing like three different girls at the same time? Gosh you were such a killjoy, all I wanted to do was gossip. It doesn’t hurt anybody and it’s fun.”
You let out a laugh at your friend’s dramatics, telling her to keep going with her story, promising to actually pay attention to it this time.
“Okay, he was seeing this girl officially. I think her name is Barbara. Red head, tall, pretty as fuck. Okay. However, he was supposedly with not only one, but two side pieces. Like, for real, such a fuck boy.”
“Ew,” you engaged. “Not even a fuck boy, an asshole. What does his girlfriend think about this?”
“I don’t know.” She threw her hands in the air. “I don’t even think she knows about all of this, if I’m being honest. And if she knows s….” Ding dong. Your friend’s story was cut short by the sound of your doorbell reverberating through your living room. “Are you expecting somebody?” she asked. You shook your head.
Sitting up, you waited for the doorbell to ring one more time, just to be sure there was really someone at your door. You looked between it and your friend, suddenly worried about who the hell would be bothering you at this hour of the night. Standing up, you walked straight to the door with care. Silent steps taking you to the peeping hole.
Looking through it, a tall, sasquatch like frame you’d grown to recognize rather easily, stood on the other side. In his hands, you caught a glimpse of a few plastic bags, his helmet, and a cardboard box.
“H-hey,” you greeted him awkwardly when you opened the door, a bit surprised to see him there.
“Hi. Heard you wanted some pizza.” He winked, lifting up what you now could identify as two cardboard boxes exhaling the greasy smell of your desired meal.
“You didn’t have to,” you said, sliding a hand through your hair. It was just a silly text, you thought, but perhaps it wasn’t for him.
Shrugging, he dismissed your words. “I was craving some junk food too, anyway. And I hadn’t seen you in a while so…”
You bought me pizza? And brought it to my door?
“Oh my god, where are my manners? Please, come in. We’re in the living room,” you told him, freeing your spot to allow him to enter your apartment for the first time
“We?” he asked, and you didn’t have to turn around to know he was lifting a brow at you.
“Me and my friend, Nessie,” you said, showing him to the other girl sitting on the floor by the center table. By now, she had a clearly amused smile on her face, and her eyes sparkled with an excitement that had annoyed you for some reason. “Jason, this is Nessie. Nessie, this is Jason,” you introduced them.
Jason extended his larger hand for her to shake, and she did it way too excitedly. “Oh my, I’m finally meeting your baby daddy,” she sang. You kicked her right at the ribs.
“Nice to meet you too,” Jason said through a breathy laugh. “Although I have to say I’m still not used to being called baby daddy. I mean, you’re just the second person to tell me that, but it’s still weird.”
“Tell me about it,” you wondered out loud, but soon your mind clicked to the fact someone else had called him that when, as far as you knew, only he, you and Nessie knew about your pregnancy.
“So… What did you bring us?” Nessie immediately asked, like the hungry dog she had been all night, scanning through the bags and the pizza boxes he had placed on the center table and pulling you away from your own head..
“Oh, I got you your dessert pizza, like you asked. And I also got a pepperoni one, but I wasn’t sure if you would like it,” he explained, messing up his hair.
“I didn’t ask for it,” you blankly stated.. It wasn’t a lie. You didn’t actually ask for it, you just hinted you were highly interested in one. But having him show up with the object of your cravings at your door not even an hour later had you feeling a bit uneasy, uncomfortable with the fact you kind of made him do it. He stared at you wide eyed, blinking repeatedly, unsure how to proceed.
“Y-yeah. But, I-I just thought I would do you this favor. A-and it had been a while since we talked and…”
“And we are very thankful for it!” your friend cut him off, gladly pushing the awkwardness away. “We were starving cuz this one right here only had salad in her fridge.”
“I’m sorry if I haven’t had the energy to go grocery shopping.” You stuck your tongue out.
“I wouldn’t mind doing it for you, if you want it,” Jason offered, sitting down on the floor beside Nessie.
“I’ll get it done,” you said, following  his move. “Eventually.”
Silently, you each decided to focus on all the food ahead of you. You couldn’t lie, you weren’t sort of enjoying all of this. Not only had he brought you pizza, and the dessert pizza you’d been craving, but he had brought you mini burgers from a place downtown you loved and even a slice of cheesecake.
“Have you checked any of the providers I sent you?” Jason asked, breaking the comfortable silence you had just settled in.
For the last few days, he had sent you tons of options for prenatal providers and doctors, something you knew you should’ve been more attentive to, but that you were avoiding like everything else regarding this pregnancy. You knew that, by this point, you should’ve already scheduled an appointment with a doctor, chosen a provider, and started looking into birthing options and other pregnancy needs. But you just couldn’t get your head into it.
Jason knew you were still not sure about this. The mention of the pregnancy or the baby clearly makes you anxious and uncomfortable. He wanted to take things slow, at your pace, but there were things you couldn’t really postpone, and prenatal checkups were one of them. So, he kept sending you options, just to see if you’d ever reply to any of them, but they always went unanswered. It wasn’t his intention to come to your house to talk about it, in specific, but he had to bring it up at some point.
When he arrived home from your apartment the other night, he immediately called his brother. Dick would know what to do, right? He’s the one with plenty of female experience. Still, he never made the silly mistake of getting one of them pregnant.
“That’s rough, buddy,” was all that he managed to say through the phone. Very helpful indeed. However, he did leave you with one single useful piece of advice: you should find a doctor.
Thus, he proceeded with his research. It felt like he had seen three thousand different doctor’s names, and a plenty of options of healthcare providers. Neither one of them sounded cheap, but it was a necessary expense if he wanted to make sure everything was going to be alright.
And you knew that too. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t checked any of the options. It was just so overwhelming. Every link for a website he had sent was filled with words and expressions you’d never even heard of, leaving you more confused about pregnancies than you’d been before. It was honestly so stressful that you had started to purposefully ignore it.
“I haven’t had the time,” you finally replied, picking out the pepperoni slices off your pizza, pilling them up on the side to eat them all at once. You heard him sighing deeply, and you could feel the annoyance by the way his shoulders trembled. You knew his patience had a limit, and he’d been so sweet and kind to you thus far that simply checking out the options was the least you could’ve done, and yet you didn’t even manage to do that. “It’s… a lot.”
Looking over at him, you observed him with his eyes glued to his pizza slice. You wanted to read his mind, to know what was going through his head at this moment. Was he mad at you? At your seemingly incompetence to do one simple thing? Gosh. You felt the anxious rumbling at your stomach, the same one from weeks ago, and you wanted to curl down and cry.
Why were you like this? What has gotten into you?
“I have an aunt who is an ob/gyn,” Nessie meddled in. “She’s pretty busy these days, but I could try and ask her to see you. If you want.”
Expectantly, Jason watched as you took your time to think. It was a good option, really. If she was busy, it could only mean she was a good doctor, right? And she was in Nessie's family.
“Yeah,” you agreed. A sigh of relief coming from the boy beside you. “I think it would be fine.”
“Great,” she celebrated. Standing up, she grabbed the empty cardboard box and walked to the kitchen. “I’ll call her tomorrow.”
Left alone with Jason for the first time tonight, you returned your attention to your half eaten pizza slice, desperate to focus on anything other than him, but turns out your brain had other plans. It constantly thought of him. He was right beside you, and that’s okay, but you could be occupying your mind with something else.
He too played around with his food, with his hands holding on to an energy drink he’d popped out of one of his bags. You caught a glimpse of the slight movement he did when he tried to offer you some of that same beverage, but he quickly realized perhaps it wasn’t good for the baby.
His veiny forearms were just inches from yours, making the hairs on your body rise up from this almost contact. It was like your body knew he was right there and tried to reach with anything it could get closer to him. You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss his touch. Not in a sexual way, like you’d been, shamefully, at the studio the other day. You missed his bear-like embrace that swept all worry away, that comforted you and helped you relax among so much stress and anxiety.
“I can pick you up. Take you to the doctor by car,” he offered, but something inside you told you he would accept your refusal as a possible response.
“Thank you, I’d love it,” you thanked, searching for his icy blue orbs. You could feel his fingers against yours, rubbing against your skin and sending a shiver up your spine. “And Jason, I’m sorry for what I said earlier, about the pizza thing. I’m just not used to all of this yet.”
“It’s fine, Yn,” he said, finding your eyes with a beaming smile next to his. “We’ll figure things out, eventually.”
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Turns out Nessie’s aunt really was busy. Not just busy, but booked and “famous”. If you were to go by the sheer prices attached to her services, she was the Steve Jobs of obstetricians/gynecologists. It got you worried at first, because you weren’t sure your insurance would cover such costs, but Jason told you to not think about it, She managed to fit you, god knows how, in an appointment another two weeks later. But you couldn’t complain, because if you weren't “family”, you’d get to your first appointment with a baby already in your arms.
Every book you’d read, many of them being Jason’s recommendations, told you your first appointment should be scheduled between eight to twelve weeks, and as far as you could tell, you would be just around at your appointment. 
The two weeks went by swiftly, and soon, it was the day of your first prenatal check up. 
You were at work all day, as usual. Your morning had been chaotic, with the beginning stages of preparations for the upcoming spring issue keeping everyone on the edge. However, thankfully, the afternoon treated you all more kindly. Although your feet still ached from all the running around you’d already done, you still roamed around collecting papers, portfolios and coffee cups for your boss.
Pushing the massive glass door open with your shoulder, you entered Sandra’s office with her sample book in hand. The clock approached your leaving time, today a few hours earlier than normal due to “medical” reasons. Not a full lie, but a lie nonetheless. Those kept on repeating, and for the looks of it, they wouldn’t stop any time soon.
You just weren’t ready to tell anyone else yet. Perhaps it wasn’t the right moment, as it was still too early. Perhaps it was you not wanting to accept reality. The more people knew about it, the more real it would become. And you knew very well it wasn’t something you were ready to face, even though at this point you had no escape route left.
“Ym, before you leave, just let Ibra know we’ll be dropping by tomorrow to decide on the new photoshoot details,” your boss requested, not lifting her eyes off the papers on her desk.
“I already called him earlier, he sent you the models for you to check beforehand,” you informed, placing the large portfolio before her table. After rambling out your words, an involuntary sigh came out of you, a sign of your body’s exhaustion after a long day. “We’ll also get the Gucci sets by tomorrow, like expected.”
“Good,” was all you heard in response, and knowing her well, you took it as a sign to leave her to her work. Turning on your heel, you walked back to the door before her voice stopped you right at your tracks. “Yn, are you alright?”
Surprised by her question, one you’d never heard come from her directed at you, your head snapped back towards her direction. “I-I’m fine. It’s just been a long day,” you explained.
“Hmm,” she hummed, removing her designer glasses from her perfectly sculpted nose. “Have you been drinking a lot of water?”
“Yes?” you sort of asked, growing confused.
“Good, it’s important to keep hydrated during your pregnancy.”
You swallowed dry. Your eyes popped from its sockets, and you swore your breathing had stopped. “Sandra, you must be mistaken.”
“Am I?” she simply asked, raising an eyebrow before returning her gaze to her notes. Opening your mouth, you tried to answer something, anything, but no proper sentence seemed to be formed in reply, as your brain was caught completely off guard by her knowledge of your secret. “I don’t know how long you planned on hiding it, nor why, but you were silly to think I wouldn’t notice. You seem to take longer to finish a simple task, you avoided salmon at lunch and said it had a smell, and your size has increased. You forgot I have a 14-month-old at home and a five year old daughter, I know the signs when I see it. Congratulations, from what I know of you, you’re gonna be a great mother. Just make sure to find your substitute at least a month before your due date so they have the time to properly learn the job till you’re gone.”
Staring at your reflection on the glass walls your eyes stop at your stomach. Are you already showing enough? Is she the only person to notice? Of course you didn’t pick the best outfit to hide it today. Your clothes barely fit you anymore, so you had to rely on your dresses, the small collection you owned, to be able to build an outfit. And certainly, the ribbed fabric of the one you wore today didn’t hide any of your curves, no matter how tiny they were.
You stood there, still, unmoving, flabbergasted. If Sandra was capable of so easily finding out your secret, it would be in no time till others could do the same. It was a secret with days counted anyways, you wouldn’t be able to hide it forever even if you wanted to.
“That’s all,” you heard her say, breaking you from your sudden malfunction and getting back to operating mode. You fled her room faster than you ever remember doing, and sank on your chair with the weight of the world weighing you down. Your hands shook, sweating cold, and your heart beat a bit faster. With deep breaths, you tried to keep yourself under control.
“Yn,” you heard someone call, making you jump slightly on your seat. Looking up at the source of the voice, you found the raven haired boy now known as your baby daddy. In your office, right in front of you.
“Jason, what are you doing here?” you scream-whispered from behind your desk. He looked at you confused, as if you’d forgotten your plans for today.
“They let me in when I told them I was here to pick you up,” he explained. “The appointment, remember?”
Standing up hurriedly, you shoved your phone, your planner and the rest of your stuff in the designer bag you’d gotten off the samples given to the magazine. Fleeing your desk, you looked around to see if any of the other secretaries were anywhere close, grabbed Jason’s hand and pulled him with you out of your workplace. “You were supposed to call me when you arrived,” you scolded, pushing open the door.
“Sorry, you just weren’t picking up your phone,” he stated. Of course I wasn't, I was working. 
Dragging him to the elevator, you successfully managed to push him inside before you entered and watched the door slowly sliding closed without having stumbled  into any of your coworkers. Sighing in relief, you allowed your head to rest on the metallic wall. A small win for today. You were taking any victories at this point.
“Who are we running from?” You felt Jason’s breath on your ear, making you jump again. His soft giggle let you know that he found that entertaining. Let’s hope he’d enjoy your elbow to his ribs. “Ouch, I’m sorry.”
“I’m not running from anyone,” you said, crossing your arms on your chest. “I just don’t want to start any gossip in the office. These ladies do like to talk about other people’s lives.”
“Weren’t you and Nessie doing just that the other night?” he teased.
“That’s different.”
“How?” he gave you a sly smirk.
“It was not about my life,” you argued, offering him a smirk in return.
Jason shook his head, leaning on the wall right beside you, close enough that your shoulders touched. But different to the first time you felt him this close, you were not nervous or about to cut his head off. You were actually enjoying his presence. What an era to be alive.
“You look beautiful today,” he complimented you out of nowhere, bumping your shoulder with his playfully.
“You don’t look half as bad,” you replied, and watched both your smiles on the crooked reflection of the elevator door.
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It wasn’t long till you arrived at the clinic, but it was enough time for you to fall asleep. Shortly after entering the car, when he was already cutting through other vehicles to avoid the traffic, Jason noticed your head hanging to the side, and even if he tried to fix it back in place, it would instantly fall once again.
He remembered how exhausting your job looked that couple of hours he witnessed by himself, and now must not have been different. Especially considering your pregnancy and the tiredness he’d had been reading about. So he let you nap quietly on your seat, making sure to watch out for your neck as much as he could while handling the road.
You were still groggy when you stepped into the white halls, needing guidance to find your way around. With his hand on your lower back, he took you to the reception, where a bored looking receptionist typed something away for what seemed like an eternity.
“Hi,” you greeted sweetly, a tone he wasn’t much used to hearing from you. “I have an appointment with Doctor Mikaelson.”
“What is your name?” asked the receptionist with an annoying nasal voice that made Jason want to punch her for no other reason than it was just annoying.
“Yn Sn. It’s spelled…” you continued, giving out every bit of information the woman needed. And it was a lot. As your first visit, there was a lot to be filled, and he stood to the side, watching as you answered all of her questions with a patience he hadn’t seen in many people.
There was something in the way you talked to the receptionist, with such poise and connectedness, that had Jason hooked. Leaning his elbow on the tall desk, and resting his cheek in his palm, he watched on as you continued to reply to each and every single question. The strong lighting did not ruin your look in the slightest, and in fact, Jason thought it somehow made you look prettier, something he believed no one else could manage.
The faint winds from the air conditioning blew on your hair, giving you your own magazine photoshoot ambiance. You did not stutter, nor did you take long to answer, all the words flowing from your lips even though he paid no mind to any of them. It wasn’t like the angry girl he used to meet at the gym, nor the one that showed up upset at his doorstep, or even the quiet one you would become around him recently. And he liked to think this was the real one, or at least a better glimpse at it than you’d ever let him see.
“Jason?” he heard you calling, and it was his turn to jump from his place. Giving you an awkward ‘yeah’, he let you repeat whatever it was you had said. “She said I’ll need to take some tests. Would you keep my bag, please?”
“Sure,” he said, fixing his posture and grabbing the rather heavy bag off your hands. “I’ll be sitting right here when you come back.
You nodded, offering him an actual smile, before walking off beside a nurse. He found a seat not too far from where you two were just standing, and watched as you moved away, swaying your hips side to side. Taking his eyes off your ass, he tried to focus on something else, catching a glimpse of the tiny pump on your belly. It wasn’t too noticeable yet, and might as well be some bloating from a heavy meal, but he’d wanted to think it was his baby right there, showing it’s first signs of life just under your care.
He’d been getting excited. Too excited, perhaps, for a baby that wasn’t even planned. But he couldn’t help it. When the initial fear was gone, all he could think about was the baby. His baby. He was going to have a baby. 
All his life, he thought that if there was someone in his family that would have a baby by accident, besides his dad, it was his older brother. Dick was a dick, thought with his dick, and had given it to half the female population of Gotham. When he told him about it, he could not stop laughing, and Jason did think of punching him in the face. Repeatedly. But it was him that made the fear go away at first. Not by taking him out for a drink, which he still did, but by making him see the good in it.
“It’s a baby!”, he said. “You love babies, and you always wanted one.”
It was a baby, it was sort of your dream, and it was with the girl he had a crush on. It could be worse. Sure, there are a lot of changes of plans that he’d have to take from now on, but the good sides were much greater.
His father wasn’t very happy when he told him, though. But Dick, again, came to the rescue. “Jason is smart. He’s always been the level headed one… when he wants it. He’ll figure things out.” And soon, old man Wayne was on board with the new baby. So on board that he had already planned on rebuilding his suite at Gotham Memorial, just for your delivery. Jason had to tell him to calm down a little, you didn’t even know his dad was a millionaire yet.
You took quite long to return. Sitting back down besides him a good forty minutes later, pulling the sleeves of your dress over your hands to protect them from the cold. He handed you your bag back, and you two sat in silence for almost half an hour till the nurse called your name again. This time, with a “the doctor is waiting” along.
“Nervous?” Jason asked, as you two walked side by side to the doctor’s room.
“I was worse,” you replied, giving him a smile he returned gladly. “It won’t get that bad again. I think.”
Different from the waiting room, the doctor’s office was cream colored and the yellow lights much more comfortable. There were books decorating almost every surface, with toys and teddy bears everywhere too. It gave out a sense of comfort you so desperately wanted to find in your pregnancy. Given how everything, all your feelings, had been thus far, it was great that something could actually give you comfort.
“You must be Vanessa’s friend, right?” Doctor Mikaelson said, extending her hand for you to shake. You only nodded, still not used to going on doctors appointments on your own. What were you even going to say?. “And is this your boyfriend?” she asked, and your eyes immediately popped off their sockets.
“No,” you quickly replied. “He’s not… my boyfriend.”
Thankfully, she did not ask for any further explanation. “You can call me Rebecca from now on. Today we’re going to talk a lot, there’s a lot I want to learn about you, so it’s going to be a long appointment. It’s your first visit, am I right?” she questioned, and you just nodded your answer. “Any medical history I should know about? From you and other family members.”
Pulling her chair closer to the expensive looking computer, she prepared to type in the answers to her inquisitions. “No, no. I’m clean. Healthy. No medical history I can remember in my family either. I mean, my dad does have high blood pressure, but that’s it,” you explained, and looking at the moose sat beside you, you expected his answer. “Jason?”
“Erm…” he struggled. “I’m adopted.”
Surprised, your head angled to the side while your eyes were now glued to him, anticipating the rest of his story.
“Do you know anything about your biological parents?” the doctor asked, but he shook his head, ending the subject you so wanted to hear more about.
The appointment went on like this for a while. Questions were made, by both sides, answers were given. Some more explaining on Rebecca’s behalf, and soon the minutes went by swiftly, without you even noticing. It was now time for the ultrasound, as she explained, and while fishing for the items she’d need to perform the exam, you were left by yourselves for a short while.
Standing up, you awkwardly play with your feet as you wait for the doctor’s return. So far, your head was banging with so much information it had received in not much time, and the exhaustion from the full day was starting to catch up to you. Your mind was getting dizzy, and you mentally begged for it to be over soon and for you to be ready to go to bed. But the next step of your visit, and you couldn’t deny it, had you rather excited.
You found your reflection on a tiny mirror. You looked tired, but you looked pretty for such exhaustion. The extra effort put this morning on your look certainly had an effect, hiding, even if a little, your fatigue. As it had been happening for the past few weeks, your eyes soon spotted your belly, and now the tiny roundness it was making.
Your hands hesitated a couple of times. It was as if doing it would burn them, like it was wrong. But they reached it, touched the skin over the warm fabric. Touched you bump. Your still hidden baby. It didn’t look frightening then. Your hands didn’t burn. You just felt the protuberance in your body, the perfect little curve it made, and thought about, how the hell, it was supposed to keep a baby. It looked small and cute now. Tiny in comparison to the size it would get. Much like some of the women you saw in the waiting room, blowing up at any moment. Bellies round and exuberant.
But yours paled in comparison. At least for now. Your baby wasn’t ready to be announced to the world yet, and you preferred it like this. Kept just for the two of you for now. Your sweet little secret. Your sweet little love.
Jason thought you were stunning. He’d been staring at you, feeling your skin, from the side, and each reaction you got of it amazed him. It was a simple act, a touch you certainly repeat, over and over, until the day your baby finally arrived. But he saw beauty in it, nonetheless. He watched your hesitance vanishing, and your comfort was slowly visible. He too wanted to feel it, touch it, but everything in its given time.
“Will you lay down please.” The doctor returned, and as you pulled your dress to free your stomach, she offered you a blanket to cover yourself with. 
Soon, just your tiny bump was out, the lights were off, and Jason stood by your head. Both anxious to hear the sound many boasted about.
“It’s kinda hard to find it,” the doctor said. “It’s still really small.”
Jason’s grip on your shoulder grew tighter as the time passed. He caressed the skin over the material of your dress to compensate for the pressure after whispering an apology to your ear. You didn’t blame him, you too were anxious for it.
“Ha-“ the doctor sang. “Here it is. Look, this tiny thing. This is your baby.”
You didn’t see anything. Just a dot. A tiny little stain on the screen where she pointed at. Yet, it nearly made you cry. There it was. Your baby. In its full tinyness. In its full “hey mommy, you don’t notice but I’m here” energy. You heard sniffing by your ear, and your head snapped to Jason quickly. 
What, he mouthed, and you had to hold in your smile. What a crybaby. Cute, noted.
“And here,” she continued, messing with her station, adjusting levels and pressing buttons. “... is its heartbeat.”
The loud beating echoed through the room. Tudum. Tudum. Till your own had gotten faster. It was on for long, being turned off soon after four beats, but it would stick to you for the rest of the day. The little sounds your baby made. The single sign of its existence within you, sounding like music to your ears. Addictive, delicious to hear. Still in your head as you walked back to your apartment with Jason by your side.
You’d walked up there in silence. Comfortable silence. The long waiting hours and the extensive appointment getting the best of both of your energy levels.
“9 weeks,” he suddenly said. “You’re 9 weeks pregnant.” Joining your eyebrows, you looked at him. “That means we fucked a whole night and went by baby free, but one quickie in a random room had us doomed. The seed is strong- Ouch!”
With a single swing of your bag, you aimed for Jason’s head and hit your target precisely. He tried to dodge another move, but was hit by another swing before getting a hold of your weapon. Your laughter echoed through the small area, loud enough you were sure your downstairs neighbor could hear.
“Shut up,” you shoved him with your shoulder. “Is all of this a joke to you?”
“No, but that was funny,” his laughter joined yours.
Your hands struggled to enter the key on its lock, but soon your door was hanging open.
“Do you want to come in? Eat something?” you offered, still a bit skeptical of his prolonged company. He looked dead in your eye, a while that made you slightly uncomfortable. His icy blue stare makes your body shiver. Replying with a toothless smile, he shook his head.
“I better head home.”
“Are you sure?” you insisted. You didn’t know why, but you kind of wanted his company tonight.
“Yeah. I’m sure you’re exhausted. And I want my bed too, so I better head home before it’s too late for me to drive. You don’t want your baby losing its father this soon, do you?” he joked.
“It would be a tragedy,” you joined in on the fun.
Walking slowly to you, he held your cheek to place a chaste kiss to your forehead. Offering another thin-lipped smile, he turned his back to you and headed for the elevator. “Bye.” He waved.
“Bye, Jay.” You returned the gesture. The sudden use of a nickname made his smile larger.
“Ynie.” He gave you a wink, before disappearing behind the metal doors.
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“So… How was the appointment this week?” Nessie questioned, eyes scanning the cool toned garments hanging on tons and tons of clothing racks. It was now Saturday, and you two had gone out shopping, something you hadn’t managed to put your head on for months, but that now managed to free it from any thoughts of your current state. Well, until now.
“It went fine,” you simply stated, avoiding commenting any further.
“You don’t sound too excited.” She raised a brow at you. 
Averting your gaze, you stopped to look through a rack full of coffee tone wool cardigans. The colorful sets of summer were now long gone, giving place to the browns, grays and blacks of the fall/winter seasons. Thin fabrics like silks and linen being traded for thicker, more weather-appropriate substitutes.
Sighing, you allowed your friend’s words to linger in the air for as long as you could. You didn’t want to reply. There was nothing to reply. She knew pretty well your stance. “What’s there to be excited about?” you asked in return, and she gave you an upset look. “I’m having a baby with a guy I hooked up once. Sorry for not jumping around at the news.”
It was her turn to sigh, as you continued to roam around the store looking for anything cute for you to wear, since your clothes were now too small for your still not too visible but obviously growing bump. It was a struggle finding an outfit to go out today, having to make the most out of your summer dresses  in the increasingly chilly days of September.
“I thought you were starting to like the idea,” she commented. Crossing her arms over the rack you were looking through and resting her chin on top of her hands, she forced you to stop avoiding her gaze.
“I was,” you started. “And then I wasn’t. I don’t know. It’s like every hour I have a different opinion on it. But it’s never too happy, or excited about it. And most often than not I regret ever laying eyes on Jason in the first place. I really don’t know what to think,” you swallowed a lump that started to form on your throat, and waited for the burning in your eyes to cease before continuing. “I’m scared, and anxious, and it seems like at every second something could happen to cause a turmoil again and I don’t think I can take another punch to the guts from the universe.”
You took a deep breath. You weren’t going to cry at the mall today. There were no pregnancy hormones, no random mood swings, that would ever allow you to do that in public. Then, the sudden touch of Nessie’s hand on your shoulder helped your breathing ease down.
“Nothing will happen. Don’t overthink it,” she cooed, tugging a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “And you’re having a baby! That’s all you need to be excited about. I know they are little energy suckers, crying loudly monsters, but they’re also so cute and adorable. Like, so cute and adorable you could take a bite out of them. And their giggles, and babbles. C’mon, I remember hearing you talk about your nephew, and how much you loved and missed him. You’re now going to have your own.”
Like a true best friend, Nessie’s words did manage to put a smile on your face. And she was right. You had focused so much on the down sides that you’d completely brushed off all the good ones and how much they could outweigh the others. The mention of your nephew and his baby sister reminded you of how much you’d loved them and how much it hurt to say goodbye to them every time you went back to college.
And you wanted kids. A family. It just happened to be an unfortunate timing.
“C’mon, let’s go.” Before you had the chance to ask where, she was dragging you out of the current store you were at and into another. 
The racks of taller, bigger clothes were soon exchanged by tons of baby clothes, shelves of toys and items now in your line of view. The smell of the store was also more pleasing, exhaling the scent of lavender through it’s entire length. Pulling out a tiny baby onesie from a table right at the front of the store, Nessie nearly shoved it in your face before continuing her rant. 
“Look at how cute this is. Can’t you imagine your baby in it? It’s so small and scary to think it can fit a human,” she joked, earning your giggle. It really was cute, and the picture of your baby in it made your tummy flutter. “And look at this one!” she nearly screamed, showing you a cute flowery knitted sweater. “I’m pretty sure my mom could make you tons of this. No shade to this store,” she lowered her tone as if anyone would hear. “But it’d be a lot cheaper, and prettier. Did I tell you before she knits?”
One by one, Nessie continued to show you random clothes and toys she kept seeing around and that got her excited. A music toy had you two concentrated on for an embarrassing two minutes before you realized your ages were not appropriate to the toy’s recommendation. You two laughed aloud at the images you both pictured of you and your baby, your future with each and every one of these items in it. Suddenly, the idea didn’t sound bad at all in your mind, and you actually found yourself getting excited about it for the first time. 
At some point, even a worker had come to your side and started handing you things your baby would certainly need once it was here, and your brain got clouded with all the new information she had offered you in such a short amount of time. You were going out of the store with empty hands, but a long list of items you had to start sorting out.
A few minutes later and you were on your way out. That was when it caught your eyes. The fluffiest and cutest baby romper. It was golden brown and had bear ears and even a little fluffy tail, just like the ones you’d seen all over your socials from even before this state was an idea of your future.
Heading in its direction slowly, you took it from the rack, feeling the soft fabric in your hands. Your mind instantly being filled with images of your baby wearing it, not any unknown baby. Yours. Maybe by the age it was big enough to be strolling around in it, its cute little steps as you followed it around. Or still tiny so you would have to carry it around like a real teddy bear.
You felt your eyes watering. Your baby in it. Your baby strolling around. The cutest little legs and hands. Yours. Turning around to face your friend, you suddenly found yourself determined. “I’m taking this.”
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It wasn’t only the romper you took. You left the store with bags almost full to the brim. In them, you had a cute  pumpkin onesie, already in the mood for halloween, plushies and a few toys that had you and your friend entertained, tiny baby gloves and socks, beanies and packages of diapers Nessie had insisted it was never too early to start stocking up on. 
“Babies go through those like crazy,” she told you, and then you had a bag full of them in your hands heading back to your apartment. May your credit card deal with the cost of all this later.
It felt good. It sort of felt… right. If you were really going to keep this baby, you’d have to get stuff at some point too. Correct? You weren’t softening to the idea, you were just being precautious.
But Nessie was right. Babies were adorable and you missed the ones in your life. Your nephew, and his little sister you mostly watched grow up through phone screens and instagram posts, were far away from you, living their lives despite your absence. You worked your whole life to get away from your parents power umbrella, and not only you’d not dare to return, but coming back with a baby was perhaps the worst thing you could do.
All the stress and work you’d gone through to get to Gotham couldn’t just be thrown out your window. Not for you, not for your sister. Although it hurt them to see you leave, they were always in full support of your choice. Your manumission.
A family. You told Jason you’d never had one. It wasn’t true. Although to your parents you were mere tokens of their “perfect” job as “parents”, as society people, they were never family. Your sisters were. And even though it was in an odd way, you loved and cared for each other dearly throughout your entire life.
It pained you to see each one of them leave your household, one after the other, for completely different reasons. Until you were all alone. And then you had no family. No one to rely on. No one to care for you in your parents' perpetual absence. Until you managed to leave yourself, even if it took you a lot of compromise and convincing.
Arriving on your floor with your bags in hand, faces stamped with laughter and aching feet, you stopped in your tracks as one single detail was capable of ceasing your happiness.
In front of you stood your door, spread open. The lights inside were on, and the well known sound of a female voice, humming along to a muted tune and moving things around. There were only two people that had your apartment keys, and they never meant anything good when they were around.
Brushing the anxious thoughts aside for a couple of hours had worked for nothing, because the worst of your nightmares had just become a reality.
“Take the bags with you,” you turned to your friend, shoving the bags in your hands onto her chest. “Please.”
“Yn, are you alright?” Nessie asked. Worry eating her up from just one look at your frightened expression.
No, I’m not fucking fine, you wanted to answer, but the words didn’t come out of your mouth. Instead, all you did was lose your breathing pace, getting hectic by the second, and your mind went numb.
“Yn, dear. Is that you?” you heard the ladylike voice of your mother calling from inside. Her steps soon too reached your ear, and her shadow approached the door behind you.
“Please, Nessie,” you begged. “Can you take this to your apartment? I’ll pick it up once they’re gone. They can’t see it, they can’t know I’m preg…”
“Oh. Were you two out shopping?” your mother asked excitedly. In good motherly fashion, or at least that was what she always did, she hurried her way to your side, grabbing the bags and eyeing up their content. Her hawk-like eyes scanned through each item carefully. There was no privacy at the Sn’s household, it wasn’t about to change now.
“Nessie’s cousin is pregnant,” You shoved the bags into your friend’s hands, away from your mother’s prying ones. “We were getting her things, you know, for her baby shower. We might’ve gotten too excited though, wasn’t it Nessie? We got too many things, but they were all so cute we couldn’t just not get them!”
You offered her a fake smile, forcing Nessie to join along. It often surprised you how good you were at lying, how fast you could come up with a good story. But maybe all those years of practice served you some good. It all came down to telling the truth, but not all of it. Always hiding something, always leaving details behind.
“I love baby showers. It still pains me you weren’t there for little Macey’s one, Yn. You said you had finals, or something, and couldn’t come. A shame really, your sister put so much thought into it for you to not be there. If only you’d gone to our local college, you could’ve taken just a few minutes of your day to be supportive of your family.”
“Mom,” you hissed, earning an angry glare in return. “Not here, please. Let’s go inside.”
“Fine,” she accepted, hips swaying as she followed you along. “Won’t your friend want to have some tea with us?”
“No,” you immediately cut her off. “She has things to do. For work.” Throwing your friend an apologetic glance, you closed the door behind you, locking yourself into your own hell for god knows how long.
“What are you doing here?” you inquired once you reached your living room.
“What are those manners?” she replied annoyedly. “Check your tone next time you ask me this, sweetie. It seems like you’re not pleased to have your parents around.”
“I-I’m sorry, you two just caught me by surprise. That’s all,” you excused, stuttering the words that you had managed to get out. “Where’s father?”
“In your room.” 
Your heart stopped. What was he doing in your room? Why was he there? Why were you acting like you didn’t know the answers to those questions? All your life, all your parents did was snoop around, trying to find each and every way they could keep a hold of you, of your life, of your likes. Of everything.
You didn’t remember all you had hidden in your bedroom, and what was still hanging around, at an easy reach of his hand. But you couldn’t deal with the risk of him finding something, anything, that might lead them on to your condition. 
Rushing through the corridor that led to your bedroom, you stumbled on the larger body of your father as you reached your bedroom door.
“Careful, Yn,” your father told you raspily. “Looking for something?”
His tone carried a note, a warning. He was on to something. Like a shark, he smelled blood in your attitude, preparing to attack at any moment you let something slip.
“Nothing,” you lied. “Just wanted to see you. I missed you.” You embraced your arms around his torso with difficulty, his round belly much bigger than yours and forbidding you from completing the embrace. He pushed you away not one second after you touched him, giving you a frown before heading back to the living space.
You held in your sigh, too scared he might catch on to your relief. Scanning your room quickly, you didn’t find a thing out of place and any clue he was onto something. So, quietly, you return to their presence in the small kitchen.
Their voices were blurry as you washed their dishes on your sink. They’d make themselves feel at home, cooking and eating in your home without waiting for your presence nor caring to leave you something. Your mind was elsewhere. It was in the moment they’d be gone. It was on you all alone again.
“Yn,” your father’s voice thundered through the room, making your head snap back to him in an instant. “Your mother has been talking to you.”
Staring blankly at him, you faltered a reply. “I’m sorry, I’m just a bit distracted.”
“Well, get your stuff together. Your mother is talking and you should listen. Here, I’m finished with this plate.”
Keeping yourself from rolling your eyes, you dried your hands and walked in his direction, aiming to get the plate and move as quickly as you could. However, you weren’t counting with your father, who didn’t even dare to look at you to hand you his place, knocked on your bag that was standing right beside him on the table on the floor. Its content spilled on the wooden tiles, revealing keys, hair ties, your wallet and envelopes of paper.
You tried to be fast, you swore you did, but your mother was faster. Grabbing the envelope from the floor, she looked at you worriedly. “Sweetie, have you been to the hospital?”
“No. No, no. I haven’t. Must be someone else’s. Got mixed up in my stuff.”
“But it has your name in it,” she said, already skimming through the pages. You place the plate back on the table, moving to grab it off her hands when her wide eyes disapproving stare told you she had found what you’d feared the most.
“Let me see it,” your father demanded. He took the papers from your mother’s hand with ease, as her strength had already vanished from her body. Her face was pale, and her eyes held a sorrow you’d only seen in her eyes once, and it was not in a good day.
“Daddy, don’t,” you cried, but it was already too late.
The veins in his face pumped up blood like crazy, making his face turn into the deepest shade of red you’d ever seen in someone else’s face. His eyes scanned the words in front of him rapidly, shifting from one side to the other, but always returning to the same spot at the top.
“Grab your things,” he spat out. “Grab your damned fucking things.”
Swallowing dry, his words fell from one ear to the other, not stopping at your brain to be processed in your thoughts. You were reactionless, staring blankly back at him.
“Are you deaf?” he nearly screamed, grabbing your arm with a strength you knew would leave a mark. “Who is it? Who is the father?”
“I-I,” you tried to speak, but any word that came out was stuttered. Your father shook you for an answer, like you do with a snack machine that is not working. “I don’t know.”
“YOU DON’T KNOW?” This time he fully screamed. You felt a tear pool by the corner of your lip, and it was then you realized you’d already started to cry. “You have been whoring yourself around to the point you don’t know who the bastard is?”
“Daddy, I-I…”
You felt your cheek burn. The image of his fingers now printed on your face. “I’m not your father. I did not raise a daughter to be a whore, to have a child out of wedlock after everything I have done to you. You’re an ungrateful bitch if you ask me. Wife, here is the reason why she so desperately wanted to be away from her family. To be whore. To give herself out to men she doesn’t even remember. Your daughter is a slut, and if that is the life she plans on living, then let her be on her own.”
His words hit you harder than his hand did. It pained you from within, tearing your heart apart. You sobbed by now, the tears making your vision blurry. He pushed you down the corridor and into your room.
“Get your things and get away from this house.”
You did as he said. The apartment wasn’t yours, you didn’t pay any of your bills. You spat on the plate you ate from, as they say. You had everything. Even if they tried to send you back, they still gave you everything you owned. And you were reckless enough to throw it all away.
Your hands trembled while you tried to fetch your luggage from the upper shelf of your closet. Your mother soon entered the room, and you hoped that for once she would stay on your side. That for once she’d coddle you, say everything would be okay and she would fix everything. But she didn’t. She didn’t even look at you. Just grabbed your clothes from the closet and the stuff off your drawers and shoved them all into your luggage and a few bags she’d found around.
“I’m so disappointed,” she whispered to herself before looking at you. “So disappointed. We put our trust in you. I should’ve never allowed you out of my sight in the first place.”
“Mom,” you cried out, voice a trembling mess. “Mom, I didn’t…”
“Save it,” she cut you, handing you a backpack. “Just save it.”
You walked out of the room with tears filled eyes, meeting your father by the door, waiting to lead you out. When you approached him, he resumed his grip onto your arm. “Too late for tears now.”
Pulling you towards the elevator, he went in with you. You wanted to it all to be over already, but he wasn’t keen on ending his torture.
“When this freak comes out of you, remember your parents. Remember those who have treated you right just for you to fuck them over. And I wish, oh how I wish it, that this kid treats you just as bad as you did us tonight. Get out of here, I don’t want you one feet close to this building. I don’t care where you go. You managed to find a guy's dick, you’ll figure things out. Leave.”
Throwing you onto the streets, you fell straight to the floor. He spat in front of you, and walked back into the apartment building. He told the doorman something, probably to never let you in ever again. Struggling, you stood up, grabbed your stuff with trembling hands, and walked away. 
You didn’t know where to. You just knew you needed to go. As the tears blurred your sight, you walked into the darkness of the night. Aimless, senseless, and you hoped for, painless. But the aching on your heart told you you’d have a long night ahead. Alone, cold, pregnant, and fucked over.
Great. Just fucking great.
.
.
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queenimmadolla · 1 year
Text
𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞
(dad!eddie munson and mom!reader as young parents)
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more of the penny verse here • eddie edit © @fefemunson!
Summary. . . You admire your new baby girl. warnings: none, just fluff a/n: eddie and reader are about 20 and 21 (i also feel the need to express eddie exhibits Sagittarius traits so i'm thinking he had to have been born in december, kinda close to capricorn cause he looks evil but he's not) and some cuteness before I give you angst with 'Wayne's World'. enjoy! let me know what you think? ◡̈
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“So…how you liking it out here?” You asked, propped on your stomach and resting on your forearms.
  Your daughter, only six days old, stared back up at you, small plump lips parted. She still looked so new and a little wrinkly.
  “There’s not a single thought in your adorable little head, is there?” You stroked over her soft hair—she’d come out with a full head of it—mindful of her delicate head and softspot. Penny blinked once, hard, at the gentle caress, but continued to marvel at you, the big brown eyes she’d inherited from her father were so wide that her forehead was squishing up towards her adorable hairline.
  The television was on, more so for background noise as the volume was very low. Eddie was asleep in the bedroom, he’d taken it upon himself to let you get as much rest as possible—always insisting on getting up in the middle of the night to gather Penny when she became fussy. She didn’t do too much, wasn’t all that active yet. If she wasn’t fussing, she was attached to one of your nipples or sleeping. In the four days since you’d brought her home, she hadn’t done a whole lot of sleeping during the convenient times for her new parents. No, she slept during the day and was up all night.  
  Eddie was so good with her, though. Took the screaming like a champ, it was so fascinating to you that she couldn’t produce actual tears yet but it still hurt your heart to hear her cry. He’d just take off his shirt and hold her to his chest, skin to skin seemed to calm Penny down, and you’d pumped enough to have overnight supplies of milk for her when your nipples were too sore to handle Penny’s nursing, though you didn’t mind when he stirred you from sleep to settle Penny against your breast so she could eat.
  That was about the only time Eddie did wake you. Giving birth had drained you, you knew it was gonna be uncomfortable and take a lot out of you but you hadn’t anticipated the lack of energy you’d have in the days following as well, and you hadn’t voiced it but Eddie knew you. Sometimes, you thought he knew you better than you knew yourself.
  It was surprising when you woke before him, feeling well rested instead of drained. You’d quietly gotten out of bed, careful not to wake him, to check on Penny, and for once, she was up at a normal time, too. 
  Eddie looked exhausted, breathing deep as he slept so you decided it was time to start bonding with your baby more. A little mommy-daughter time.
  After changing her diaper and feeding her, you got yourself dressed and ready, put her in a cute little onesie and folded a blanket on the carpet in the living room to lay her down. 
  You hadn’t realized there wasn’t a whole lot to do with a newborn until half an hour had passed with you two staring at each other, really taking each other in. You studied her and while you didn’t think she had a whole lot of brain processing power, you had a feeling she was trying to figure you out, too. As more than just her food source, anyways. Sometimes her stare would go soft, eyelids looking heavy before they were wide open again as if you’d done something to startle her out, it was kind of funny. 
  “You know, you’re pretty cute but you’re kind of boring,” You teased, fingers trailing down her little side until you reached her onesie covered foot and your ovaries cried at how small it was. You pressed your thumb gently just below her teeny tiny toes and like the little alien she was, they curled in on it in a way she probably wouldn’t be able to do in a few months, newborn flexible-ness.
  “All you heard was cute, huh?”
  Seemingly in response, because of course your daughter knew her cues, she was Eddie Munson’s baby after all, she began to suckle on nothing, lips miming the motion. You grabbed her pacifier and held it to her lips, giggling when she mouthed at it until it was settled and she looked content. 
  You beamed down at her, thumb stroking over the pad of her foot before pressing a kiss to it. And since you were kissing her foot you just had to show those chunky (god you wanted to bite them) cheeks some love, pressing your lips noisily and repeatedly against her face.
  Penny let you have your fun, the eye of her cheek you were focused on forced to squint as the chubb of it spread with the pressure of your kisses.
  You’d been expecting her to smell good, a baby survival mechanism to entice people to want to take care of her, but you had no idea how obsessed with it you’d become. You just wanted to bottle the newborn smell up so you could have it forever. Once you were done kissing her face, your nose trailed up her head to sniff at her hair where the scent was the strongest. You inhaled deeply, very much so exaggerated and let out an even more dramatic sigh before you pulled away to look down at her.
  “I’ve never done it, but you’re better than crack,” You swore.
  “Neither have I and I agree.” A raspy voice responded from behind you.
  You rolled onto your side, glancing over your shoulder to see Eddie leaning against the doorway of the bedroom, lips curled into a smile and sleep still lingering in his eyes.
  “You know, it’s really hot when you linger in doorways like that, but it’s also kind of creepy, Eddie.”
  The sleepy look quickly morphed into a mischievous one, “You think I’m hot?”
  “So, that’s what you’re gonna take from that? You already know I think you’re hot. Exhibit A,” You gestured down to his baby you’d popped out less than a week ago. 
  Eddie laughed and joined you on the floor, lips pursed in exaggeration once he was settled. You were all too happy to lean in, pressing your lips firmly against his. It was clear he’d just been expecting a quick peck when he let out a sound of surprise before you felt the curve of his smile which in turn made you smile.
  You felt so doped up on love; you had Eddie, who you thought would be the greatest love of your life, and now you had the baby you two made, proof of your love (an accidental one but still) and also proof that you could be wrong, since she turned out to be the other great love of your life. Despite the late nights, sore nipples and how peeing was somewhat of a chore while your stitches healed, life was bliss.
  “Mmm,” Eddie hummed when you pulled away, eyes still closed and that smile still plastered on his face. Then he groaned, head dropping. “These are going to be the longest six weeks of my life, I just know it.”
  You laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek before you sat up and carefully lifted Penny. She was so doll-like, ugh, you loved her so much. You turned her in your grasp, a hand cradling the back of her head and neck while your other supported her bottom as you pressed her cheek against yours, the both of you facing Eddie.
  “But isn’t this worth it?” 
  There wasn’t any humor behind the reply he rasped out, his features morphing into the tender expression that always made you feel breathless, like you were important to him, “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”
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futureman · 11 months
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hi ur writing is so so good, makes me go insane ur amazing
okay so could you do a normally dom!joel but one day he has the day off and reader doesn’t, so all he does ALL day is think about her. When she gets home he’s worked himself into a frenzy, desperate asf. So instead of his usual dominant self he’s desperate!joel whining and whimpering for her to touch him, make him cum, moaning in her ear and grinding against her.. all of that fun stuff 🤭
thank u for ur time, pls excuse the depravity 🙏🏾
hi nonie! loooved this request so much. i got a similar one from @luvrxbunny, so i combined them a bit and made it a lil longer. hope you both enjoy!
omg ur so amazing ily pls pls pls pls pls pls pls can i have dom!joel with a praise kink 🙏🏾 he doesn’t even really realize it but reader does and she’s just pummels him with praise while he’s fucking her and he does feral, moaning and grunting in her ear i’m sorry im so feral
way too damn needy
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
warnings: 18+ MDNI, pre-outbreak, language, smut, dom-turned-sub!joel, gentle-dom!reader, praise kink, masturbation, phone sex, blowjobs, face fucking, lil fluff
word count: 2.8k
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What a way to spend his only day off in weeks. The weather’s perfect for playing his guitar on the porch, and he thought he’d even squeeze in a swim before getting started on building that new bedside table for Sarah. He had plans. 
But instead, Joel’s stalking around his living room like a caged animal in an endless loop of waiting, waiting, waiting.
It’s like he’s been transported back to his teenage years when every guy in a relationship followed his girl around like a puppy, always at her beck and call. Wondering what she was doing, if she was thinking about him. Except he wasn’t even that guy in high school. Not then, and definitely not now.
There’s really no logical reason for him to be this wound up, totally unable to do a single thing on his to-do list just because you’re not home. Leave it to your company to be the only one in the entire country that doesn’t give their employees Labor Day off.
That’s probably a gross exaggeration, but what does he care? He’s been tragically affected by this clearly personal transgression, and has to wait…two more hours? Seriously? You normally leave around 5:30, which means you’re home by six, and he’s not sure he can wait that long.
The sad fact of it all is that he’s already wasted almost the entire day not enjoying all of those relaxing activities he’d planned for. What’s even sadder is that he’s been half-hard for most of it, intermittently pausing his ridiculous pacing to grind the heel of his hand into his crotch for relief. Petulantly waiting for you to get home and take care of it for him.
Well, another hour’s gone by, it’s 5 pm, and he’s officially past his limit. At this point, he's probably better off handling it himself, at least until you're finally back. Then, you’re all his. 
He’ll fill you up with every last bit of pent-up frustration he’s felt since you left the house this morning, making you regret not just calling in sick. You might have to tomorrow after he’s done with you.
Joel drops onto the couch, laying to face the door so he’s the first thing you see when you walk in. Pulling his boxers and jeans down just enough to get his cock out, he wraps his hand around himself, immediately hissing out a breath through his teeth. Shit, he’s been hard for hours and just that slight touch already has him leaking precum all over his fingers. 
For a moment, he worries that maybe he’s a little too worked up, that he’ll cum way before he gets the chance to make you sorry for making him feel so desperate. So needy. And that makes him mad.
It should be your fingers covered in precum, your plush lips sucking him down to the hilt, and your pretty pussy aching with the need to have him inside you. Funny how you’re always so good for him, except today when he needs you the most.
His hand starts to move languidly before he can stop it, the slide wet and tight, just like he knows you’ll be. But it’s not you, and that makes him even angrier. If he can’t feel you the way he needs to, then maybe your voice will hold him over until he can. 
The phone only rings twice before you pick up.
“Baby, I’m busy right now. What’s up?” you answer, slightly out of breath. 
It’s cruel, but Joel honestly doesn’t give a shit if you’re busy. Not when his mind is this clouded with thoughts of you on your back, breathing much heavier than you are right now. But he manages to keep that to himself.
“You comin’ home soon?” he asks gruffly, still tugging on his cock, head thrown back on the armrest of the couch.
“Uhh, probably leaving in about…a half hour?” Your voice lilts like you had to double-check the time. “Everything okay?”
“Any chance you can leave now?” he tries again, side-stepping your question. 
The desperation in his voice is obvious, and it makes him feel even more pathetic. He wonders if you can hear it. Part of him hopes you can.
“Why, did something happen? Is Sarah okay?” you ask, clearly concerned. 
“S’fine, everythin’s fine. Just miss ya, s’all," he lies shakily.
Of course, he misses you, but nothing here is fine. His angrily weeping cock is a testament to that. He's all but fucking into his own fist now, hips bucking off the couch as he pants into the phone.
“Joel, what—are you touching yourself? Jesus,” you mumble, and he can hear your heels clacking against the floor like you’re walking somewhere. Quickly.
“Been thinkin’ about ya all damn day. Dunno why you went into work on a fuckin’ holiday,” he grunts. “Should’a been here with me, on your back, beggin’ for my cock like a good girl.” 
You inhale sharply and, though muted through the phone, he hears it loud and clear, dribbling more precum down his shaft. Unfamiliar voices start to filter through the speaker, so he’s guessing you can’t say much. 
And that’s okay. He has no problem filling the silence. Joel loves talking to you while he’s getting off.
“Had me feelin’ needy today, babygirl. Y’know I don’t like that,” he says dangerously. Your heels hit the ground faster, and he subconsciously matches his strokes to your pace. “Thought I was losin’ my mind for a while there. Was just about ready to let you do whatever you wanted to me when you got home, s’long as I got to fuck that tight pussy of yours.”
A door slams in the background, then all he can hear is you panting heavily in his ear. But when you finally speak again, your voice sounds different. Less like his good girl, and more like someone who knows they hold all the power.
“Oh, poor baby,” you coo, catching him off guard. “Did I leave you alone too long?”
He can tell you’re mocking him but, for some reason, his resolve starts to slip away more and more with every violent throb of his cock. Maybe it’s desperation. Or maybe he just likes it. 
“I’m so sorry,” you continue, murmuring sweetly in his ear. “I can make it all better…but only if you wait a little longer. Can you do that for me? Be my good boy.”
He bites back a groan, gripping the base of his cock hard to keep from cumming then and there. That's...new. And sexy as hell. He's still frenzied to the point of no return, but you also might've rewired something in his brain because he suddenly realizes he does want to be your good boy. Badly.
Fuck, he hopes you get home soon.
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That last half hour of work was torture. You spent the entirety of it, and the car ride afterward, marinating in your soaked underwear, anticipating everything Joel has in store for you when you get home.
You're not sure what came over you on the phone, but it sounded like he enjoyed it. A lot. It’s a dynamic you’d never thought to try in your relationship, not with Joel’s domineering personality. The fact that he went along with it at all must mean he’s going through it, and that’s something you’re a little too excited to see.
The house is quiet when you walk in, save for the sound of your keys dropping into the bowl by the door. You turn to hang your bag on a nearby coat rack, and that's when you see him.
Joel, still lying on the couch exactly where you assume you left him after your call, with his hand squeezed tight around the base of his cock. He looks like a goddamn mess—sweating, hard as a rock, and leaking all over himself. His eyes are a little wild, more so than you've ever seen them. Christ, poor baby. You didn’t think your absence would affect him this much.
“Aw, sweet boy. Is all this for me?" you smile softly. He sucks in a breath, visibly twitching in his hand, and your smile widens. “Sit up, I can’t play with you like this.”
He complies immediately, and it sends a shiver up your spine. You love how well he’s listening, even though he almost looks like he's in pain after being in this state for so long. For that, you think he deserves a reward.
So, you give him one—the one he’s been waiting for all day. You undress for him, maintaining eye contact as you slip off your stuffy business attire, finally ridding yourself of your oppressively sticky underwear. 
Dropping to your knees between his legs, you gaze up at him affectionately, mouth inches away from his drooling cock. 
"Tell me what you want," you lean in, pressing your lips against the smooth, velvety skin. "Still wanna fuck me? Get me on my back, begging for it?"
Your tongue darts out to taste him, and you moan, licking a wide stripe up to wrap your lips around the tip. He's salty and heady, and so fucking delicious, but he still hasn't answered you. Instead, his fingers thread through your hair, guiding you down halfway and back up, shallowly fucking your mouth.
"I—fuck, please...," he's struggling with his words, whimpering around each syllable. "—baby, I waited...been good, did what ya said."
You nod your head understandingly, or at least try to as you continue to let him thrust into the inside of your cheek. His eyes are hyperfocused on the way your skin bulges around him, each stroke sending a shockwave of pleasure straight down his tightening balls.
"Christ, you feel good. Worth waitin' for, so fuckin' worth it," he rasps, his fingers tensing in your hair. "Need ya to—," he repositions your head so he can thrust further, deeper until he's nudging the back of your throat, "—ngh, make me cum. Suck harder, baby, please."
Soft, hiccuped moans escape his parted lips, increasing in volume when you start to drool around him, down your chin and onto your breasts. You can tell he's about to burst, feeling his skin growing taut against your tongue.
"M'gonna—haah, gonna...," desperation clouds his eyes, still dictating his every thought and move. 
But you don't let him because that's not what he said he wanted earlier. He's allowed to buck into you a few more times before you pull off with a loud pop, and the needy, frustrated whine he lets out almost makes you reconsider. Almost.
"I'm gonna make you cum, I promise, but not with my mouth," you tell him, voice tinged with disappointment, wrecked from the force of taking him like that. "You were doing so well for me. Come down here, keep being my good boy and I'll make you feel good."
Plopping down on the carpet, you spread your legs so he can see how wet you are for him. It's only gotten worse since earlier, slick coating your thighs, shiny and all the more inviting. You lay back, trailing your fingers up your belly to your breast to tweak a nipple, sighing as you reach out to him with your other hand.
Again, he obeys, his desire to empty down your throat all but forgotten. His shirt is quickly discarded, followed by everything below his waist, and then he's shifting onto the floor between your legs.
"There's my sweet boy," you coo, running your hands up his chest through a smattering of coarse, dark curls, and it rumbles under your palms as he mewls sweetly at your praise. 
He leans over you, hovering like he's waiting for permission to touch you, but he doesn't need it. The only thing you're trying to do is guide him, not control him. You want to make sure he gets exactly what he was so patient for. 
"Wanna feel you, babygirl. Let me—," he amends what he was about to demand, "...can I touch you?"
You bite your lip nodding as you smile up at him, and he wastes no time dropping down to bury his face into the crook of your neck, sucking wetly as he presses his body flush against yours. You writhe underneath him, just as pent up as he is by now, the realization triggered by how incredible his naked body feels on top of you. 
"Fuckin' hell, you're soft," he moans into your ear, propped up on his forearms. His cock brushes against your inner thigh, and his moan turns guttural, raw like it clawed its way out. "Mmph, I can't—"
He lurches up to crash his lips into yours, kissing you sloppily, hungrily, as his hips finally dip to drag against where you're soaked and aching. But not for nearly as long as he's been, and right now, he comes first. You need him to know he can have you. That he doesn't have to wait anymore.
"Don't...don't fight it. You've been perfect, you deserve it," you gasp out, and his hips jerk, your words forcing a low keen past his lips and into your mouth. "Take, baby. Take what you need."
Joel doesn't take, he seizes, laying claim to every part of you. Like he's afraid he won't get another chance if he doesn't take full advantage of what you've given him right now.
He faintly reminds you of a puppy lacking object permanence, believing the next time you leave, he'll be stuck waiting for you to come back to him forever. God, you're not even sure how you fucked him up so badly, but it's clear by the way he's handling you that he won't let you go again.
He moves quickly. One moment, he's leaning back on his heels, digging his fingers into your waist to yank you up onto his thighs, and the next, he's fucking into you as hard and fast as a bullet train. His cock somehow feels thicker, heavier than it ever has when he breaches your cunt, and the stretch has you clawing at the carpet beneath you.
"Missed you all day, wanted you all goddamn day," he growls, plowing into you forcefully enough to make your brain go fuzzy. "Fuck, babygirl, you got no idea what I've been through."
Christ, that feels—it feels...Christ. He's hitting something. You have no idea what, but it feels ungodly, like if he keeps going just like that, you'll cum without his fingers on you at all. It's happened before with Joel, but it's rare—and it's only when he's deep, lighting up all of your nerve endings at once. Fuck, he's being so good today.
"S'okay, you're okay," you gasp, clenching down around him when he suddenly pounds into the spot dead on. "I...I'm here now. Just keep going there, right there."
He nods frantically, gritting his teeth as you continue to tighten around him.
"Good boy," you mumble deliriously, your back arching completely off the ground as your orgasm rocks you. 
"Shit, you—'m not touchin'...fuck, baby, you cummin'?" 
It hits him all at once, what's happening, and then he's cumming, too. He's loud through his entire release, alternating between drawn-out moans and hiccuped whimpers as he fills you up with a whole day's worth of pent-up frustration.
Thrusting until your aftershocks have subsided, he grinds in deep one last time, letting you milk him completely dry before he pulls out. You're boneless underneath him, your eyes glazed over while his are finally clear for the first time in almost ten hours. 
He lowers your body onto the floor and crawls over next you, pulling your body against his. His embrace is warm and pleasant, and enough to pull you out of your post-orgasm stupor. Wriggling in his arms to get more comfortable, you tilt your head back from where he'd tucked it under his chin to grin up at him.
"So you missed me, huh?"
He rolls his eyes, back to his usual, not-totally-depraved self, but you already know the answer. He just spent the last hour showing you exactly how much.
"Thought I already made that clear," he confirms gruffly, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "Next time, could ya maybe just use your vacation days? Please?"
"Sure," you laugh, nuzzling into his neck. "I'll save them up just for you." 
You reach up to scratch your fingernails across his beard, your other hand petting the soft curls at the nape of his neck. A soft noise rumbles low in his chest, but he tries to play it off by clearing his throat. Playfully raising an eyebrow, you continue your ministrations and it happens again.
"Baby, quit, 'm not a dog," he deadpans, even as he leans into your touch, his body betraying him.
"You sure about that? Because you sure were needy like one today."
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princesachicana · 1 year
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𝐞𝐥𝐢 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐚 (drew starkey x reader)
description: you and drew with newborn babies.
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“Aren’t they soo cute” You gushed snuggling further into Drew’s arms. He held the baby monitor in one hand,as his other lightly massaged your back. Your twins Eli and Eliana were born just 3 weeks ago. Although it was very hectic at first dealing with two needy newborn babies, you both got the hang of it pretty quickly.
The dirty diapers, feedings, crying was a new normal for the both of you. Seeing each other step into their respective parent roles warmed your hearts. This is what you both have wanted for so long. The domestic bliss that consumed the house was perfect. "Just like their mama." Drew peppered kisses onto your cheek. "And their daddy!" you teased back with a smile. The love you felt everyday made you feel whole, Drew worshiped everything about you. His love for you only grew now that you were the mother of his children.
"Did you get a chance to respond to that email?" you questioned your fiancé as he placed the baby monitor back onto its charger. Early this morning as you were pumping and Drew was putting the twins back into their cribs he received a email from his management. They wanted to know when he planned on going back to work. You knew that the last thing Drew was worried about was working. He'd been telling everyone on his team he’d get back to it soon. “Yeah, want me to read this script.”
You felt your muscles tense at his words. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him to go back to work. You were terrified of being alone again. You knew that it was a low possibility that whatever role he’d take next would allow him to stay home. All the best job offer’s required him to travel sometimes across the country. And with you being a new mom to a set of twins only made you more anxious. You needed him here. But you didn’t want to be the one holding him back from any opportunities.
“Did you read it?” You questioned fiddling with the strings on his sweats. “Didn’t want to” His response came immediately as if he wanted to be done with this conversation. Drew had only read the character description before he was interrupted by the screams of Eli and Eliana. And without second thought he went and comforted his little family. “It’s when the babies were going crazy, they both wanted your boobs.” Drew cracked a smile when you grimaced. Not even three hours ago it was as if your newborn babies were having a screaming match. Alls they wanted was to be fed and both wanted to be the first at it. “Don’t remind me i felt like a horrible mom choosing between them.”
Drew shook his head “Don’t ever say that.” Hooking a finger under your chin he looked into your eyes. “They got the best mom ever you hear me?” He leaned in pressing a long kiss against your lips. You smiled against his lips. “It was Eli’s turn to breast feed! but Eliana hates bottle feeding she won’t eat and it’s the same milk!” You laughed at your very picky baby. “And even though Eli doesn’t mind bottle feedings, the doctor said it’s important for him to get that one on one time with me too you know?”
Drew pulled you closer draping your legs over his lap. “Didn’t she suggest the bottle nipples that are similar to these.” Drew smirked as he slyly grabbed onto one of your breasts. It wasn’t a secret your postpartum body turned him on to no end. “Yea, she did. They should be delivered in like two days.” You pulled his hand away. You couldn’t afford being aroused after the doctors strict rules of “no sex for six weeks.” Drew threw his head back with a groan.
“Baby now i can’t even cop a feel?” Your laugh only made him whimper. “No! because I’d get turned on and we wouldn’t be able to do anything about that!” You defended. “Only three more weeks we got this!” Drew made prayer hands with his eyes closed. Your favorite thing was to tease your man so when you started leaving kisses down his neck he actually groaned. “You’re fucking evil.” Drew’s hands gripped your hips before dragging them down onto your ass. The action only made it worse for him as you moved over his lap. “I think feel something hard, left something in your pocket hmm?” You joked when he hissed. “I can’t help it my fiancé is sexy.” Drew pulled you back in for a kiss.
Crackling from the baby monitor halted your movements. A cry was heard, making you move off Drew quickly . You grabbed the monitor immediately drew looking at it over your shoulder at the same speed. “It’s Eliana she’s awake.” You blew out a breath, she was fine. “I’ll grab her so she doesn’t wake up Eli.” You nodded as he pressed a kiss onto your forehead leaving the room.
“She’s wide awake.” Drew smiled as he held baby Eliana to his chest, her eyes searching all around the room. You walked up to them with a fond smile. “She’s such a night owl.” You brought your finger to Eliana’s little fist, heart warming when she wrapped a tiny hand around it. “Then we got our boy over there who could sleep through a hurricane.” Drew adjusted her on his chest.
You laughed at that, where eliana stayed up all night and always fought nap time. Eli was the first to wake up and take the longest naps. “Our next one gonna be another girl mark my words!” Drew stated matter of factly.
“Already thinking of having another one?” You gasped. “What can i say I like seeing you pregnant knowing it’s my baby I put in there.” He smirked.
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sophiamcdougall · 2 years
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Oh my God. Where do I -- how do I -- OK, @pensierosatanista, I'm going to try. @becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys is sure to do a better job than I can, but I'll try. So you know how Boris Johnson has a habit of just blatantly, brazenly lying, right? Like "there were no parties in Downing Street during lockdown." "I am shocked and appalled to find out that there were parties in Downing Street during lockdown! I had no idea whatsoever this was going on." "I am shocked and appalled to find out I was at all of the parties..."
So all his ministers put up with that, loyally spouted the line that there's nothing to see here and no one did anything wrong and even if there were teensy, insignificant breaches of the so called "law" who even cares? So it's not surprising that Johnson concluded he could just carry on lying (and degrading any lingering standards in public life) indefinitely. So recently the Conservatives dramatically lost a couple of by-elections, BOTH of which happened because the sitting Conservative MP was forced to quit after he did something gross and sexual. One was caught watching porn in Parliament, the other, much worse, was convicted of assaulting a teenage boy. So a few days ago it came out that one of the Whips had got drunk and groped a couple of men. Rather unusually, the culprit promptly resigned from his role as Whip, although not as MP. It's grim to say it, but in itself, this probably wouldn't be such a big deal. The problem was that 1) Johnson didn't immediately sack him as an MP 2) the guy had done it before. H'd been formally investigated and everything. Johnson, on cue: I had no idea he'd done it before!! Various MPs: OK, wait. Yes, you fucking did. It was reported to you. I was there. You made jokes about it. You hired him anyway. Johnson: OK, maybe. I mean, yes. I forgot. Who can keep track of all the sexual assaults their subordinates have committed, amirite? Various other MPs, live on TV: The Prime Minister had no idea it happened befo-- oh. Oh, he now admits he had, you say? Huh. Well. I look kind of stupid now. And it wasn't the first time versions of that, (MPs going out to defend Johnson only to find that whatever line they were pushing had collapsed before the interview was over) had happened either. So yesterday, the Chancellor Rishi Sunak and the Health Secretary Sajid Javid both resigned, saying they just couldn't take the lies and toxicity and, y'know, the small matter of the culture of drunken sexual harassment, any more. Now it may be true that they really can't stand serving under Johnson because who could? But mainly what they mean is "I'd like a shot at being Prime Minister and if I don't get out now, I'm going to be associated with all this shit forever and that is bad for my personal brand." Historically, just one major minister resigning saying "I can't serve under this Prime Minister" has always meant that PM is toast. So ... the floodgates opened. Since then it's been averaging out at nearly two resignations an hour. Partly because people who've been sick of Johnson for years finally felt they had permission to do something, but mainly because it's either get away from Johnson as fast as you can or go down with him -- staying = saying "Yeah, judge me and my competence for any future office by the fact I approve of this dickhead". And even before all of this happened Johnson was staggeringly unpopular according to all polls. As I write we're up to forty-six resignations. Keir Starmer, the leader of the opposition, came out with a clearly workshopped-to-fuck but still good line "a sinking ship fleeing the rat."" Any normal Prime Minister would have resigned after the first two! Any normal Prime Minister would have resigned before any of this happened!
Johnson, you will have observed, is not a normal Prime Minister. Trump-like, he is currently insisting he's never going to go. This is somewhat less terrifying than when Trump did it because we don't have guns here and even when he DID have a crazed personal fanbase it wasn't that rabid and he doesn't have it any more. But technically, the rules currently say the Tories can't get rid of him for at least another year. That's not a big problem, as they have the freedom to change those rules and are going to by Monday. But technically, they could vote to remove him as leader of the Conservative party ... and he'd still be Prime Minister. And there would be nothing they or we could do about it! This would be completely unprecedented, a gigantic constitutional crisis, and in that case we might be stuck relying on the fucking Queen to save us, which is obviously a) is pretty dire for a so-called democracy and b) what if she doesn't. It probably won't actually come to that? (...will it?) He has just made a lot of enemies all at once, including the crazy own goal of sacking Michael Gove, his scheming long time frenemy/nemesis, who is the one the Murdoch press really likes. The 1922 committee is "preparing instruments of torture." And although it's true that this is not a normal way for a PM to behave -- a lot of PMs have said "Fuck you all! I can totally survive this!" in various crises, only to quit the following day. So everything's a little terrifying and he might take us all down with him, but it is also spectacular and hilarious and it's preventing the government from actually doing anything. And so today was the headiest and most electrifying day I've experienced, politics-wise, since November 6th, 2020.
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maislovebot · 8 months
Text
Top 10 bsd characters oral scenarios: Ango Sakaguchi
It’s done!! I hope you enjoy:)
Contains: S5 EP11 SPOILERS, afab reader, no pronouns, desk sex, semi-public, quickie, switching kinda, readers outfit is ‘feminine’, overstim, pussy-drunk Ango, his tie is used as a gag, there’s an attempt at aftercare, they’re being rushed though so there isn’t much time for it
“When is your next meeting?”
“In thirty-five minutes.”
You and Ango were currently having a dilemma. Ango has been so deprived of you lately. Now that Fyodor is officially gone, and there’s been so much whiplash that he feels like he’s wasting time if he does as much as blink you two haven’t been able to spend much time together aside from a couple of hours when you two get home. Ango was honestly taking this worse than you. His main motivator for a long time is that once this all passes, he and you could spend as much time together as you wanted, but he didn’t expect to still be working even after Fyodor was gone. A small miscalculation that was causing pure burnout.
That was until he finally saw a window of opportunity. He had just finished a meeting with some lower ranked colleague, and he had the biggest window between meetings he’s had yet. thirty-five minutes. He took this opportunity to call you to his office, and he was practically all over you the second you walked through the door. As soon as you walked inside he wrapped his hands around your waist, pushing you against the door as he kissed you deeply, locking the door from behind you. He quickly pulled away to let you speak.
“Woah, Ango! You’re awfully touchy.” You teased him and grabbed a stray piece of his hair and put it back into place, gently scratching his scalp.
Ango shrugged, “I’ve got thirty-five minutes until my next meeting. Could we please do something until then?”
“Like what?”
“You know, don’t make me spell it out for you.”
You gasped dramatically and poked his forehead, “Ango! How dirty. Wasn’t it always you who told me to save that stuff for the bedroom?”
Ango shook his head.
“Not this time. Please.”
“Please what?”
Ango sighed, and whispered into your ear.
“Please, let me fuck you.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear,” Ango was about to open his mouth, but you placed a finger over it. “And normally I’d be all for it, but you have a meeting so soon. I don’t wanna risk anyone walking in.”
Ango whined, “please, please—”
“We can still do something but it’s gotta be small. What do you wanna do?”
Ango nodded at your compromise and brought you to his desk wordlessly. God, he wants to do everything to you right now, but he knows that’s unethical. He can’t go all the way right now. He can’t touch you in whatever way he wants, and he knows it. So if he had to settle for something, he’d settle for eating you out. He’s been so stressed lately, not much could compare to your slick dripping off of his tongue and onto his desk. Knowing how addicting you were, it could probably get him through the rest of the day.
Ango tapped his desk, signaling for you to sit on it. You did as you were asked and gasped a little when he wordlessly gripped your skirt and pulled it down, your pantyhose and underwear going with it. He sat down in his chair and leaned his face down to rest between your parted thighs.
“Ango?”
Ango was almost in a trance, your voice bringing him back to reality.
“Hm?”
“Are you doing what I think you are?”
“Probably.”
You giggled, “alright, if you can get me to cum before your next meeting, I’ll treat you extra good when we get home.”
That was a joke and Ango knew it. He may have not had much experience before you, but he’s been with you enough to know he can make you cum four to five times in the time frame he had, maybe even six if he really pushed it. Although he wouldn’t go that far. At least not in public.
Nonetheless, Ango nodded, not wanting to waste a single moment. He dove himself between your thighs and kissed them gently, rubbing along your labia. He moved along, inching closer and closer to your heat that was practically dripping from his tender touch. You whined and bucked your hips into his face, making Ango smile.
He took off your shoes, undoing the buckle that kept it on your foot. The mary janes you were wearing were clunky and he knew they’d be a little heavy considering your position. You smiled at his gentle care, and whimpered a little bit when he blew cold air against you.
You really were so good for him. You two were perfect together.
Ango continued his actions, rubbing your clit gently with his hand and kissing your thighs, leaving marks that ranged anywhere from light red ones that would fade immediately to deep purple bruises that would last days. This was satisfying, but Ango grew curious, and bit into your thigh, it obviously wasn’t enough to bruise; but it stung a little, it made you whimper and throw you head back, hitting the large desk.
“A..Ango,”
Ango smiled into your thighs, and he finally kissed your clit once, before licking along your folds, collecting the slick that had formed. Your taste was so addicting he couldn’t stop himself from letting out a soft moan, sending vibrations through your body. Once Ango had collected the majority of your precum, he licked directly on your clit and laid his tongue flat across it, and you winced again, covering your mouth to prevent any noises from coming out. As he applied pressure to your aching clit, he rubbed circles along where he bit, soothing the muffled sting.
Ango quickly looked at his watch.
thirty minutes left.
What you assumed to be because of the little time left, he finally applied continuous pressure to your clit with the tip of his tongue, and he pulled his hand up to finger you gently. It was soft, and despite the current situation, it felt remarkably intimate. You resisted the urge to run your fingers through his hair, not wanting to ruin it, and instead gripped the desk. He moved his fingers in a scissoring motion inside of you, and you cried out into your hand. Ango continued with his pace, moving his tongue to completely cover your clit. He continued to lick at your clit, enjoying the muffled whines that left your mouth, along with the occasional moan.
Ango sped up his pace, fingering you with more vigor than before, his sped up actions made you buck your hips into his face and grip the desk so hard your knuckles were turning white. As he went at it, he decided to wrap his lips around your clit, and sucked on it gently. He added another finger, and the three fingers stretched you out even more than before, and you resisted the urge to wrap your thighs around his head, wanting to avoid ruining his slick-back hair.
Ango noticed that you were holding yourself back and grabbed your hands. He couldn’t risk having his hair disheveled, or anything for that matter, but he still wanted you to grab him in some way, so he started holding your hands as you tightened around nothing. It was sweet how he was trying to keep things intimate, even in public.
As much as you tried to keep silent, Ango’s name left your lips repeatedly, almost like some prayer. Ango momentarily lifted himself from you and placed his pointer finger over his lips, and you nodded at his implication, shutting your lips tight. You tightened your hands around his to make up for the lack of noise you could let out, and he simply smiled.
You felt a familiar warmth growing in your stomach, and you warned Ango.
“Ango, I’m close—” you whispered, still trying to stop anyone from overhearing the two of you. Ango nodded into your pussy and began prodding his tongue at your entrance, licking along where he could reach. He didn’t want to grip your thighs to pull you closer to him, as he was holding your hands, so he simply shoved his face as deep as he could go, entering your drenched hole. You arched your back further off the desk as you came with a low whimper, his hands taking most of the impact of your orgasm, as you were currently unable to let out noises. Your nails dug into his hands and turned where you were pressing a shade of red.
“G-good job, Ango,” you lifted yourself up on your arms, trying to calm down your shaky thighs by holding onto them. “You did good, I’ll reward you at home—!” You were cut off by Ango wrapping his lips around your clit, and sucking on it. The wet sounds that were coming out of your pussy as he kept going at it were absolutely sinful, but Ango loved it. You almost let out a moan at the shock, but you covered your mouth in time.
“Ango!” You whispered in the loudest tone you could without being heard, but he kept sucking on your clit with no shame, before Ango finally lifted himself up.
“I said we have thirty-five minutes. We still have..” Ango checked his watch. “Twenty minutes left.”
“But, Ango!” You tried to reason with him, but he wasn’t having any of it. He looked you in the eyes, awaiting your answer. “If you really want me to stop, I will.” You shook your head.
“Just be quick..”
He nodded and wordlessly bent down and kissed your clit before going back to work. He kept sucking on your clit, grabbing your thighs this time. He struggled to reach as far as he wanted before, but now he wasn’t going to allow that. He gripped your thighs as tightly as he could, pulling your dripping cunt impossibly closer to his face. You didn’t want to, but the sudden actions had you letting out loud moans and cries for a moment, before Ango sighed to himself.
“You’re simply too loud.” Ango said to you, pulling his tie down. “We can’t have that. At least not here.”
Ango pulled his tie off all the way, tying it around your mouth.
“Sorry, dear. Unless you can promise to be quiet.”
You shook your head. You knew you couldn’t stay quiet, especially not like this. Ango smiled at you and kissed your forehead.
“At least you’re honest..” he chuckled, his arms on either side of your head as he smiled down at you.
Ango brought himself back down, and without hesitation, gripped your thighs again and pulled you closer to him. He slipped his tongue as deep as it could go, successfully deeper now that he could pull you towards him by your hips. You winced, muffled through his black tie. Your taste was driving Ango mad, the small moans he was letting out proving it. They were quiet enough for no one else to be able to hear it, but you could certainly feel the vibrations shaking every fiber of your being. The muffled noises you released were strangely enough making Ango strain against his pants more than before. Something about the desperacy was extra appealing to him.
Your thighs were mere inches away from his head. You were trying your absolute hardest to not wrap your thighs around his head, as it would dishevel his hair. Your thighs tensed and tightened around nothing, trying to keep them in place was a struggle, but it was doable. At least you could grip something with your hands, even if it unfortunately wasn’t Ango’s hair.
Ango’s harsh treatment on your clit made your stomach curl up into another orgasm, you were teetering over the edge, before Ango moved his mouth back down to suck on your clit, serving as the final straw. You came all over Ango’s face again, and he licked his lips clean, diving back in to clean up what was left behind. The continuation of his previous overstimulation made you come much easier and faster after that, as Ango managed to get a few more orgasms out of you by the time his meeting was roughly five minutes away. How many times has he managed to get you to come? It couldn't be any more than five, right? Doubt filled your mind, but considering how well Ango did, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had beaten his record or something. If he had, you’d need to make sure to reward him extra well when you two got home. There was a wet stain on the desk right where your heat was, and Ango ran his fingers over your folds quickly, making you jerk your hips up one more time.
“Isn’t your meeting soon? You should..stop..that… you’ll be late.”
Ango shrugged, “I suppose so.”
Despite his words, Ango laid his arms on either side of your face and leaned down to kiss you, not caring about the slick that got on his suit.
“Ango..your suit.”
“Ah,” Ango looked down to his crotch, “it’s fine. My suits black anyways.”
Considering everything, Ango was remarkably clean. His hair was largely unchanged, outside of some strands of hair falling forward on his face instead of being slick back like usual. Besides the wet spot on his pants, his suit was fairly clean. The only missing component was his tie, so he kissed you one last time before getting up to get a tie out of his desk. For some reason, he had a habit of keeping an extra tie on him. You always thought it was silly, but it turns out it was actually useful.
Ango quickly put the tie on so he could turn back to you, and he placed himself back on his spot on his desk, checking the time. Two minutes.
“We need to hurry..” Ango grabbed your bottoms that were collected on a spot on the floor and helped you off the desk, holding you in place by the waist as he helped you get them back on. Next were your shoes, and you sat down on the desk again as Ango put your black mary-janes on, helping out with the black buckle on the shoe. He didn’t put your pantyhose on, as there was no time, but you still looked decent once you were done.
“Sorry I can’t really do much aftercare. I’ll spoil you some more when we get home to make up for it.” Ango sat up as he said it and helped you stand up, your legs were shaky and buckled as you tried to stand and walk out, but you managed.
“It’s fine, Ango,” you smiled back at him as you leaned on the doorframe. You quickly pulled out a compact mirror to fix up your hair, and you felt like you could show your face in public now. You were still a little sweaty and sluggish, but it’s nothing a bathroom trip couldn’t fix. You bunched your pantyhose in your hand to hide them, and unlocked Ango’s office door, waving goodbye and giggling at Ango’s attempt at crossing his legs to hide his hard on.
As you walked out, a tall man who was speed-walking down the hallway entered Ango’s office, walking right past you.
Looks like you two wrapped it up just in time.
Wc - 2.5k
I’m really proud of this one:) Sigma is next!
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lulublack90 · 2 months
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Prompt 5 - Bookshop AU
@wolfstarmicrofic April 5, word count 748
Sirius loved working in the bookshop. The Potter’s had asked if he would take over running it when they retired, as James was taking over the rest of the Potter’s substantial enterprise. But the bookshop was special, and they knew how much Sirius loved it. 
It had been the first place he’d ever worked. Effie had given him the Saturday job when he’d first moved in with them. He hadn’t wanted to keep asking them for money for things, so that had been Effie's way of giving him money without making him feel bad. 
He loved the smell of the place. Not only did they sell the new releases, but they also had a rare book section that Sirius sometimes just went to hide in. 
It was on one of these occasions that he came across a tall, lanky man wearing a truly horrendous jumper. It looked like something out of the ’70s, and judging by the threadbare cuffs, it might actually have come from that era. 
He was so engrossed in the book in his hands that he didn’t notice Sirius at first. Sirius tried to carefully back away so his customer could browse without interruption. But his movement must have alerted the man to his presence as he looked up straight into Sirius’s eyes. And Sirius felt his stomach flip. 
“Sorry, didn’t mean to disturb you.” He smiled apologetically at the man before him. “I can do a good deal on that one for you.” He gestured to the book in the man’s hands. “
“Oh, no… I can’t afford any of these books.” He blushed. “I just like looking at them. Choosing which ones I’d buy if I had the money. Plus the smell of them—it probably sounds silly, but I find it soothing.” 
“This is my favourite aisle. Always come down here for at least five minutes before I go home. It’s the, er, smell for me too. I don’t know what it is, but all my troubles just seem to melt away…” Sirius stopped talking before he embarrassed himself further. The man carefully replaced the yellowing book on the shelf and straightened.  
He didn’t know why, but Sirius wasn’t ready to say goodbye to this odd man. “You can come by and read as many of those books as you like. As long as you’re careful with them.” Normally, he would never let anyone actually sit and read, but he couldn’t help himself.
“Oh, are you sure? That’s incredibly kind of you. Er…” 
“Sirius.” Sirius offered. The man smiled at him. 
“Remus.” 
Everyday after that, Remus came in and spent a couple of hours in the rare books section. Thankfully, he treated the books as though they could fall apart at any moment. Sometimes, he’d bring Sirius a coffee. Other times, they’d share a sandwich. Sirius got used to seeing Remus every day and felt the huge amount of disappointment when, after over a month, Remus didn’t come. 
He wondered if he’d done something wrong. Sirius sat in the shop an hour after closing time. Just in case Remus turned up. 
When the clock passed six, he gave up. He gathered his belongings and locked up. He turned to head home when he heard the sound of pounding feet on the pavement. He looked behind him, and a very dishevelled-looking Remus was running towards him. 
“Oh my god! What happened to you?” He asked, worried about the state Remus was in. 
“I’m so sorry I’m late. Some awful person stole my bag on the tube, and it had everything in it. My phone, my wallet, even my keys. I had to walk here because I didn't have any money for the train.” 
“You had all that going on, and you still came to the bookshop? Are you mad?” Sirius asked, baffled by Remus’s choices. 
“ No, I didn’t come all this way with only the clothes on my back to come to the bloody bookshop. I came to see you, you idiot!” Remus blurted out, exasperated. “Sirius, I don’t come into the shop everyday just to look at books.” 
Something clicked in Sirius’s brain. Oh, he thought. He closed the gap between him and Remus and pressed a kiss to his lips. They parted, smiling dopily at each other.
“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get something warm in you. Takeaway? My treat.” Sirius took his hand and pulled him in the direction of his flat. 
“Yeah, okay then,” Remus replied as he followed Sirius home. 
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honeypiehotchner · 2 years
Text
Recompense (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- one shot
My suitemate made me write this /hj
Also talk about returning to Hotch fics with something completely out of left field 🤪🤪
Warnings: 18+ only pleaseeee y’all know the drill, slight sub!Hotch/dom!reader, light bondage, grinding, angst, MAYBE dubcon if you absolutely squint
WC: 2.1k
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Hotch had been gone for weeks, which isn’t unusual, but still takes its toll. To combat it, you and Hotch have been planning a dinner for when he gets back.
“Should we go out or stay in?”
“Stay in,” Aaron said, exhaustion laced through his words. “I’m so tired of eating out.”
“I know you are, babe,” you murmured. As much as Hotch loves his junk food, he hates eating out so often. He misses your home cooked meals, homemade lunches. He misses running every morning, coming back to your sleepy eyes as you fix coffee for the both of you. “We’ll stay in. I’ll cook.”
“No, no, I’ll cook, you’ve been cooking a lot.”
“I actually haven’t,” you admitted sheepishly. “Cooking for one is hard and I’ve been too lazy anyway.”
“Honey…” He knows when you say ‘lazy,’ you really mean you’ve been missing him and it’s been getting to you. “I’ll be home soon.”
“I know you will.”
Every night he called, and every night a new facet of the date was planned. The menu, the table setting, the music.
If this hadn’t been the fourth case in a row that the BAU was called on, this feeling of missing him wouldn’t be as bad. But he barely had six hours of sleep before he was called out on the second one, and he didn’t even get to come home before the third. With the fourth one, he was home for a blissful twelve hours, but he was exhausted and slept for eight.
Needless to say, it’s been a while since the two of you have really seen one another.
The day that Hotch texts you that he’s coming home can’t come fast enough.
You haul yourself out of bed immediately, flipping lights on and throwing clothes over your body to get ready for the day. There’s a lot to be done, and you can’t wait to get started.
You have all day because it’s a long flight and they haven’t actually left yet, but still. There’s no time to waste.
+++
Hotch doesn’t know how time got so far away from him.
He texted with you when the jet landed, but you weren’t quite ready for him yet, so he went to the office with the rest of the team. His plan was to do paperwork for a few hours, then check back in with you.
Well, he worked for more than a few hours. And forgot to check in.
By the time he looks up, it’s well past the time when he was supposed to text you. It’s dark outside, for Christ’s sake.
He immediately calls you instead, but you send him straight to voicemail. He forgets all about the work he was doing and grabs his coat and keys.
He makes it home in less than half the normal time, but you’re not there. You’ve left a note on the counter, telling him you’ve gone for a drive to get a milkshake, and you don’t know what time you’ll feel like coming back.
He calls you again. Voicemail again.
This time, he leaves one for you. Telling you to come back -- begging, more like. His only hope is that it works, and that you’ll be walking through that door tonight.
+++
The sight before you makes your mouth water. And you hate it because you’re supposed to be angry, but you can’t be when your partner is sitting in front of you with his hands tied. Literally.
He took one of the chairs from the dining table and placed it in the middle of the living room. He’s out of his tie and has it tightened around his wrists, palms facing each other, fingers curled into fists.
“How did you even do that?” is the first question out of your mouth.
He chuckles. “You think I’d do something to you that I haven’t tried on myself?”
“Oh,” you squeak, but really, you’re thinking, that’s hot. “Right.”
You set your things down and lock the door behind you. You’re not sure exactly what to say. If you weren’t mad at him, you’d be on top of him right now. You’d be all over him. But you’re resisting, and you’re keeping your feet planted firmly here, by the front door.
“I’m sorry,” he says from his place in the living room.
“Is this your apology?” you deadpan, gesturing to his self-made predicament.
“Part of it,” he admits. “Do you want me to get up?”
You’re not sure what happened exactly to flip the switch, but something did.
You shake your head, lifting it to meet his eyes. “No. I’ll tell you when I want you to do something.”
He hears the shift too and he nods. “Yes ma’am.”
You like the sound of that.
With a heavy sigh, you cave.
Slowly, you strip your jacket from your shoulders. “Why weren’t you home on time?”
“I-I got caught up in paperwork--”
“We’ve talked about that, Aaron.”
“I know,” he replies, shameful.
“What should you have done?” you prompt him, hanging your jacket on the hook by the door. You spin around and cross your arms over your chest, waiting.
“I should’ve set an alarm,” he says. “Or three. To check in and keep myself aware of the time.”
“Mhm,” you nod. “Why didn’t you?”
“I forgot.”
You click your tongue. “Not a good enough answer.”
“I know,” he says quietly, hanging his head.
His head remains hung in shame as you walk over toward him, toeing off your shoes by the couch. Aaron registers the noise, but doesn’t lift his head until you tell him to.
“Look at me,” you murmur, standing in front of him, but not touching him. His hands are mere centimeters from your legs where they rest on his knees. You see him tighten his fists and you know he’s fighting the urge to reach out and touch you. “Lift your arms.”
Aaron does as he’s told, albeit confused. Until you sit down on his lap.
You face him, your breath caressing his lips. You reach up and guide his arms back down, looped around your neck.
“I would’ve had you tie them behind your back,” you comment, “but since you’re already like this, we’ll make do.”
He nods, looking into your eyes intently. It’s been so long since he’s kissed you. It’s torture for the both of you to have your faces this close, but not touching. It’s hurting you just as much as it is him, but you are determined to take your time.
You can feel him hardening beneath you, much quicker than you expected, but still it doesn’t surprise you. It’s been a while since the two of you have had sex, too. Not over the phone, at least.
You roll your hips, earning a low groan from the back of his throat. You smirk.
“I’m not sure what I want to do,” you muse, letting your fingers wander to the buttons on his shirt. You begin undoing them, one by one, while you speak. “I could take something that I’ve wanted for weeks. I could refuse to let you cum while I do it. Or,” you finish the last button and snake your cold hands over his warm, toned chest. “Or I could let you cum, on one condition.”
“What is it?” he asks quickly, already breathing hard. Between the way you’re sitting, straddling him, your scent, and your hands, he’s ready to burst. “I’ll do it.”
“You don’t even know what it is,” you chuckle. “It could be something you hate. Or not necessarily hate, but something you prefer not to do.”
At that moment, Aaron knows what you mean. And he doesn’t like it. But he also doesn’t like the alternative.
“Okay,” he says.
You grin. “Someone’s desperate.”
“You have no idea,” he replies.
“Believe me,” you snap. “I do.”
He frowns. “I’m sorry--”
“Be quiet,” you tell him, removing your hands from his chest, to instead work on removing your pants. “Lift your arms.”
He does, and you step back, stripping yourself of your pants and panties, kicking them away. He watches them wistfully, and you have to snap your fingers to bring his attention back to you.
You take your shirt off as well, loving the way his eyes darken when he sees you aren’t wearing a bra. And knowing that he can’t touch you.
You straddle him once more, noticing his bulge has gotten considerably larger.
If there’s one thing Aaron hates, it’s cumming in his pants. Especially when he could be touching your skin.
It makes a mess, sure, but the mess is always the least of his worries. He has them dry cleaned regardless. But it’s the pain. The agony. Being confined when you’re right there, stripped naked for him -- for yourself, really, because you’re angry with him right now. None of this is for him. This is all for you.
You guide his arms back around your neck, wanting to feel them there as you begin rocking your hips. You feel his muscles flex, the physical sign of his internal strife.
You’re sensitive on most days, but it’s especially bad when you haven’t felt him in a while. Just the feel of his dress pants against your core sends sparks through your entire body. Not to mention when you clit brushes against his belt.
You can’t stand it anymore, so you kiss him, hot and heavy, moaning into his mouth. He stretches his arms straight out, desperate for some relief. You pull him toward you by the back of his neck, your nails scraping his scalp.
His tongue easily finds yours and takes control. You let him, at least in this aspect, knowing he’s dying for it. You like it when he does, anyway, so this is an easy concession.
Your first climax comes soon, but it isn’t enough, so you don’t stop.
Without needing to be asked, Aaron goes for your neck, sucking and biting as you ride out your high. You keep his lips there, pressing your hand on the back of his neck. When the pressure is a little too hard, you hear him groan, and that’s enough to make you wild.
His hips jerk every now and again, the movement difficult on its own with the way he’s sitting and the way you’re grinding against him.
“I know you’re fighting it,” you murmur against his ear, sending chills down his arms. “You’re going to give in.”
The truth is, it is harder for him to climax when he’s constrained, but at the same time, he is fighting it right now. He hates that you noticed, that you know him well enough to catch it, but he doesn’t know why he’s surprised. You know him as if he is you. And the same goes for the way he knows you.
“Come on,” you press, lifting his head from your neck to look him in his eyes. Your lips brush against his as you say, “I want to hear you.”
He closes the gap between your lips with a fierce growl. The sound alone sends a wave of heat over your body, like molten lava poured overtop of you. You spread your legs wider, chasing your next climax, noticing for the first time how wet you’ve made the fabric of his pants. Or maybe some of it is from him, too.
“Let go,” you demand, lowering your hands to rake your nails over his chest. He shudders at the movement, his head falling onto your shoulder. His moans are broken, almost sobs. “Let me hear you, baby.”
You reach down and rub your clit, desperate to reach your climax at the same time as Aaron. Your sounds drive him over the edge.
He tenses, cries. His hips jerk in sync with yours, and you feel him twitch beneath you -- a harsh movement for you to be able to feel it through the layers.
You drive your hips down toward his, already cumming when he finally breaks, and climaxes with a shout. It lasts much longer than normal, purely because of how constricted his movements are.
“That’s it,” you murmur, pressing your chest against his, relishing in the sweet pleasure of your simultaneous highs. “That’s it, baby.”
He rests his head on your shoulder, his chest heaving.
“Are you okay?” you ask, chuckling a little when he nods.
“I’m great, I’m— Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” you nod. “Here, let me.”
“No, I got it,” Aaron flexes his wrists and the tie comes off, falling to the ground.
Your eyes widen. “That’s hot.”
“Really?” he laughs, smoothing his hands down your arms.
“Oh yeah,” you nod, holding his face. He’s still hard beneath you. “Continue in the bedroom?”
His only response is standing up, with you in his arms, carrying you down the hall for more ‘apologies’.
1K notes · View notes
teamhappyme · 5 months
Text
it's time to go
josh lyman x female!reader
word count: 4.4k
warnings: my condensed rant at how the women are treated in the west wing, what is a timeline/plot
a/n: logging on to post a fic and then fall off into the abyss where there is no motivation or inspiration flowing! this has been sitting in my drafts for two years, folks. finally got the inspo to finish this generalized west wing fic-turned josh lyman reader core done! i hopee you all can indulge in this as much as i did :) (yes another taylor swift inspired title you can take them from my cold dead hands-)
~~~
There is a constant buzz that lives in the west wing. 
If it’s not the white house staff and all the varying levels of personnel making noise, it’s the conference room meetings that hold everyone in D.C. trying to influence the white house and the American people. 
Normally, the buzz is comforting to you. In the middle of the communications department, you all thrive on it. But the last twenty four hours had reached a level of mayhem that not even you guys could spin into a positive narrative.
You accompanied Toby to CJ’s second brief of the night, trying to inform the press on the situation in Haiti while attempting to dodge any questions about the MS shock and reelection campaign.
CJ was losing control of the group. She was shuffling papers, removing sticky notes, adjusting her glasses, all in an attempt to keep herself somewhat grounded from the chaos at hand. You sensed Toby tense up as a member of the press pushed and pushed, asking his third follow up question. 
And that’s when it all came crashing down.
CJ flew off the podium and you and Toby followed after her.
“Did she just say the President is relieved to send troops into Haiti?” Sam asked as he joined you in the hallway, waiting outside of CJ’s office. “Relieved to put American lives and Haitian civilians at risk?”
“I was standing right there!” Toby shouted back and you flinched. This certainly was not the good buzz you wanted.
Before they could continue yelling at each other, the door to the briefing room slammed against the wall, CJ rubbing her hands over her face and turned to find the three of you standing there.
“CJ,” Toby started, but was quickly interrupted.
“Just don’t say anything! Just… don’t say anything.” You all gave her a moment to regroup before she began walking back to her office. 
Your two bosses stood in the middle of the hallway, not knowing what on earth to do next, other than duck and cover from Leo once he heard what happened. 
“They’re gonna need extra hands for damage control.” Sam turned to you, and you nodded.
“I’m on it. I started drafting notes for an apology statement,”
“Apology?” Toby asked, voice still an octave louder than you liked, directed to you.
“I told her to.” Sam added, and you watched the look the two of them shared. They sure had some things to discuss. “We’ll talk about them later. Just, make sure they are clear about what CJ meant. Redirect as much as you can without stepping on any toes.”
“Got it.”
You pushed your stack of papers into Sam’s hands and made your way to the press offices. Phones were ringing off the hook, aides scrambling from desk to desk, as Josh stepped in beside you.
Before either of you could reach CJ’s office, she slammed the door, rattling a few frames on the wall.
“Well, we’re just getting started aren’t we.” 
“Happy Thursday.” you added as he walked back toward his office. You looked out over the war room and locked eyes with Carol. She let out a breath before meeting you at her desk.
“Heard there’s a bit of a situation going on. Where do you need me?”
You’re not sure if it’s still Thursday by the time you leave the press office. It’s still dark out; you haven’t eaten anything besides Carol’s desk mints and you need a nap. Desperately. 
You walked through the bullpen to Josh’s office, your final memo delivered before you could put the events of the last day and a half to rest - at least for the next six hours. You checked in with Sam one final time, making sure your absence today didn’t put him any further behind. (Of course it did, but he’d never tell.)
Donna wasn’t at her desk, and the rest of the bullpen was empty save for Josh pacing around his office while reading over a document. You waited until he stopped moving, scribbled something on the paper, and stuck the pen back in his mouth to knock on the opened door.
His eyes shot up, meeting yours for a quick second before he began pacing once again. 
You’ll take that as a ‘come in.’
“7:00 a.m. briefing notes, CJ wanted you all to take a look at them before morning.” You handed him the paper, skimming it before he went back to his thick document. “Carol says all they are waiting on is an update on Haiti from the situation room. They assume they won’t get that information until-”
“Nancy is doing the morning brief tomorrow.” He interrupted, not looking up from his papers.
“I’m sorry?” you questioned.
“Nancy is doing the morning brief tomorrow. She has the information and will get the Haiti update by 5:00.”
Taking a second to recover your thoughts and do a double take at your own copy of the memo, you couldn’t help but question the man in front of you. 
“Why are you benching CJ?”
“No one’s benching CJ. Leo made the decision to have Nancy give the brief on Haiti. I mean, she seems pretty qualified to give the brief being the President’s National Security Advisor, but I could be wrong. She just bribed me with some bagels to give her the opportunity.”
“Don’t you think CJ deserves to do her job?”
“She said the President was relieved to send troops into Haiti.”
“She made a mistake,” You argued, and you could feel the anger starting to spew out of you.
“Yeah, and unfortunately she made it in front of the press and during broadcasted briefing.”
“CJ used one wrong word and she’s getting hanged for it.” You dropped the stack of memos onto Josh’s desk, his full attention now on you.
“CJ is the press secretary, she is the line of communication from the President to the public.”
“And you’re the Deputy Chief of Staff, and Toby is the Communications Director, and Sam is the Deputy Communications Director, and-”
“What’s your point?” He interrupted, running a hand through his annoying, unkempt hair.
You scoffed. “What’s my point? As the Deputy Chief of Staff, you went on Capitol Beat and slammed Mary Marsh while simultaneously ridiculing every person of faith in the United States. You also went in front of the same White House Press Corps and stated that the President had a secret plan to fight inflation when he obviously did not. As the Communications Director, Toby was accused of insider trading. Finally, as the Deputy Communications Director, Sam slept with a prostitute, and instead of staying away from her like all of the senior staff advised, including Leo, he was photographed with her, which could have caused a major PR crisis for us to fix.”
“I thought you were in favor of Laurie and Sam’s relationship, prostitutes shouldn’t be discriminated against.” He added with a smirk.
“Do you think this is funny?”
“You listing all of the mistakes we’ve made as we work in the most powerful building in the world? Yes, I do.”
You crossed your arms in defiance, fighting back frustrated tears. He wouldn’t get it.
“CJ has stood at that podium over the last twenty six hours taking shit from the press on the President’s diagnosis. She chooses the wrong language once, and Toby is yelling at her while Leo shoves her in the corner.”
He let out a sigh, trying to choose his next words carefully. 
“It’s her job to get the language right-”
“For fucks sake Josh, this isn’t about her damn job! It’s about every single woman in this building working their ass off, taking the hits for their bosses, for the men in this administration without as much as a thank you. How many times has Donna been on the receiving end of phone calls from angry senators, stayed late to make sure she proofread your memos, sacrificed her free nights to lobby and push your policy on people? And how many times have you thanked her for it? I sit in the communications bullpen and hear Toby shout for Ginger, Bonnie, and me dozens of times a day. I see, first hand, the scrutiny that CJ is under every time she has to defend policy to the press. And don’t think I don’t understand that we all signed up for these roles. We all knew what we were getting into, we all knew the hierarchy of the west wing. We knew we weren’t going to be praised for our contributions, no matter how big or small. But none of us expected to be benched for doing our job, for telling the truth of a man that is too scared to say it himself.”
Josh’s eyes widened at your casual tone and bold statement. You knew you were crossing the line. 
“You’re talking about the President, keep your voice down.”
“Why? Everyone is thinking the same thing. He’s hiding behind Haiti, he’s hiding behind CJ, and he’s hiding behind this damn white house!”
Josh moved around you, going to shut the door in hopes that no one heard you. But a foot propped the door open, and in walked a still irritable Toby.
“I sure as hell hope that wasn’t the President you were having a public outburst about in his goddamn west wing,” Toby exclaimed, only causing you to roll your eyes.
“Toby,” Josh tried to interject, but you were ready to finally give everyone a piece of your mind.
“It sure as hell was. And I’ll repeat it for anyone that wants to hear it, in fact, why don’t we all just march down to the Oval office and tell the man causing all these problems himself how we really feel. Or am I the only one with the balls to say it?”
Josh had to physically stop you from leaving his office, holding onto your shoulder as you could practically see the smoke leaving Toby’s ears.
“You sure as hell don’t have enough seniority to command a meeting in the Oval!” Toby yelled out, landing another low blow to your ego. Josh’s hand tightened on your shoulder as you fought back the tears desperately trying to form in your eyes. But you wouldn’t give Toby the satisfaction. “So suck it up, and wait for us to tell you what the hell to write to get us out of this situation.”
You shook Josh’s hand off your shoulder as you took another step closer to Toby.
“I’m not writing a single word until I get to talk to the President.”
“Get the hell out of my bullpen, you’re done tonight.” Toby seethed, clearing the way for you to leave.
You didn’t think twice. You walked past the two of them, not a care in the world at the fact you just told off two of the most powerful people in the White House, potentially risking your job in the process.
The buzz followed you through the halls to the communications bullpen, walking past Ginger and Bonnie who were wrapping up phone calls at their desks. Sam yelled out to you from his office, but you kept your head down and kept walking. 
It wasn’t until you walked past the Roosevelt room, locking eyes with Donna as she sat with papers spread out in front of her, red markings all across the pages, that it hit you. She gave you a small smile, her eyes quickly turning to concern as you felt the tears threaten to fall.
You quickly walked to the exit, brushing past the security guards and stepping into the spitting night rain. The air was cold, and it felt like a shock to your system. 
What the hell have you done.
You barely made it fifty feet before you heard someone calling your name, heavy footsteps running toward you.
You turned to find Josh, coat in hand, approaching you outside the White House.
“Wait a second,” Josh said as he finally stood in front of you, draping your coat around your shoulders. You didn’t even realize you were shivering.
“I need to go,” you said, embarrassment and anger still seeping through you.
“We need to talk about what just happened. It’s been a long, hectic night-”
“Josh, you’re not going to talk me out of my own words.” You interrupted him. “I meant everything I said in there, and I’ve been feeling that way for a while. No amount of talking is going to change what I think, or what Toby thinks. It’s done.”
“We can fix it, please-”
“Nothing is going to change!” You exclaimed as your arms raised in frustration. “The only way this goes away is if I go back in there with my tail tucked between my legs and suck up to Toby. I’m not going to kiss the ring and pretend I’m okay with what’s going on in there. And if that’s the job now, I don’t want it.”
“It’s always been the job, the President's policies and opinions are our policies and opinions.”
“That’s easy for you to say when you’re in the room where it happens. And quite frankly, I’m sick of taking the hit for men who can’t help themselves.” you said and continued walking further away from the White House.
“It must be lonely up there on your high horse, pointing your finger at everyone who has what you want!”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about!” you whipped around to face him, finding him closer than he was before. You hated that he was looking down at you, both in height and pity. “And of all the people in that fucking building, it should have been you to understand why I feel this way.”
The two of you stood incredibly still, waiting for someone to make the next move. It had been like this between the two of you for months; push and pull, give and take, waiting for someone to crack and push the boundary wide open. No one knew how to get you to open up like Josh, and no one made him as flustered as you. And still, it all ended like this.
He looked down at your hands, clenched into fists at your sides, and he slowly reached out to grab them. But you couldn't let it happen this time. You took a step back, and both of you tensed up again.
“It’s time for me to go.” Physically, mentally, all of it. It was time for you to leave the white house.
Josh nodded, fighting the urge to continue to try and get you to stay. Instead, he rested his hands on the lapel of your jacket, pulling it tighter around you for the final time. You refused to look up at him, knowing you would give in just like all those times before.
He gave you a small nod once he was ready to finally let you go.
“I’ll see you around.”
*****
It’s been three days since the MS scandal completely shook the nation.
You haven’t left your apartment since that day, avoiding phone calls from everyone in the west wing.
Sam had left voicemail after voicemail, begging you to tell him why you haven’t been to work. Toby refused to tell him what happened, but he knew it had something to do with that night. Not even endless compliments on your prose and speeches from Sam could get you to crawl back there. He gave up after his sixth message.
There was a pile of unopened mail sitting on your kitchen table, along with empty take out containers and a bottle of wine - there may even be a copy of your law school application in the mix, a pity read or two occurring in a drunken haze. 
Later that night, after dodging another phone call from Donna and attempting to get as much of your life together as you could, you gave in and sat down to watch CJ’s nine o’clock press brief. You were glad to see that she was off the bench again, and seemed to be back to her usual self. 
There was a knock at your door as she opened up for questions, and you hated to think you missed the sound of the press gaggle.
You swung your door open, expecting a large pizza to be shoved into your face, but instead an exhausted Josh Lyman was standing at your door.
“Hi,” he said and began cracking his knuckles. “I would’ve called, but you seem to forget how the phone works.”
“I know how the phone works.” you replied. “What are you doing here?”
“Can I come in?” you sighed. “I walked all the way here, please take pity on me.”
“Fine.” You opened up your door, mostly to shut him up, and ushered him into your home.
“Glad to see you cut yourself off from us completely.” He jeered and pointed to the press briefing on the TV. “You know I’m the one that suggested she make the joke about Hungary, so they should be laughing for me.”
“What did you come here for, Josh?” you asked, again, trying to redraw the boundary between you two.
“Ginger and Bonnie kept saying you were sick, and since no one else heard from you, thought I would check in to see if you were alive. You look pretty not sick to me.”
“Josh-“
“We need you back in the west wing. Toby and Sam are at each other's throats and we need a speech for our first campaign stop. If you don’t get back to the bullpen I’m afraid we’ll never see the written word again.”
“I don’t-”
“I’m not beyond begging or bribing to get you back in there tomorrow morning.” He couldn’t help but smile at himself as he shrugged off his coat and sat down at the kitchen table. You tried not to notice how soft he looked in jeans and a sweater. “But you’re not getting my office, or my secretary, or my season tickets to the capitals. I will however put up Sam’s season tickets to-“
“I wrote my letter of resignation, Josh. I’m not coming back.”
You sat down next to him as you watched him freeze, eyes widening the slightest bit. Rendering Josh speechless never gets old, even under these circumstances.
“Toby’s not going to fire you, he was just pissed off the other night. C’mon, if we head down there now I’m sure he’s still there slaving away over this speech-“
“I didn’t write this because I was afraid of getting fired. This is my choice, Josh. I’m choosing to leave the White House.” 
You handed him the letter, and he took it with some hesitation. He spent a few minutes reading it, and then rereading it, shaking his head before throwing it back on the table.
“Why?” Was all he asked as he pulled his chair closer to you. You shook your head, not wanting to get into it. He leaned back in his chair, staring at your letter on the table.
“Josh, I’ve spent too much time helping people, specifically men, climb up the political totem pole. I’m tired of writing speeches and bills for someone else to say. I’ve been burned by too many men in my life to be naive enough to be comfortable in one place.”
He moved to pick up the letter, or so you thought, but instead he picked up your law school application.
“Since when have you been interested in law school?” He asked, flipping through the pages of the Georgetown Law School application. 
“Since forever,” you said, suddenly growing quiet under the scrutiny of his eyes on your application; your essay was practically a diary about your time working in the west wing. “I couldn’t afford to go after I graduated from UVA, and my parents weren’t exactly thrilled about the idea of having a girl lawyer in the family. So, I settled and started working on the campaign trails. I think you know the rest from there.”
Josh didn’t say a word in response, you’re not entirely sure he even heard a word you just said. Instead his eyes were darting across the page, flipping page after page to finish reading your essay. Josh had never read your personal work; sure you’ve written dozens of memos and speeches that he had proofed and listened to, but nothing with your voice. Nothing that showcased your intelligence, your compassion, and dedication to learning to improve not only yourself, but the world around you.
It was making you anxious the more he read and the less he spoke. Was it bad? Did he think you were absolutely insane for thinking you could go to law school? You need to get it out of his hands before it completely changes the way he sees you.
“I know it’s a long shot that they would accept me, I haven’t even decided if I’m actually going to apply or not, so-” you tried to take it out of his hands, but he grabbed your wrist before you could reach it.
“They would be absolute fools not to accept you.” he said, slowly lowering your arm back to your lap, not letting go of you yet. “The west wing is going to fall apart without you.”
“You guys will be just fine without me.” you started and rolled your eyes. “Toby has an ego, and a vocabulary, big enough for ten speechwriters. And, I haven’t gotten in yet.” 
“You will. And Toby’s ego, no matter how large, will never fill the hole you’re leaving.”
He maneuvered his hand away from his wrist down to your hand, and watched as he laced his fingers with yours. You let out a breath as he rested them on his knee, slowly bringing you closer together.
“So, will you accept my letter of resignation now that you know the full story?”
“No, I don’t think I will.”
“Josh-”
“I have a stipulation to the letter.” he interrupted, the smirk returning to his face. “You stay on until we win re-election, and take on a very part-time consulting position once school starts. You deserve to see this through, and we can’t part with you any sooner.”
How the hell does anyone say no to Josh Lyman? Between his annoyingly handsome signature smirk, his warm brown eyes, and his messy hair, he’s a total heartthrob. But you seemed to have some effect on him too, seeing as he hasn’t let go of you just yet.
“That sounds like a plan, only if you and Toby agree to write me the best recommendations Georgetown has ever seen.”
“I can deliver on Toby, but I’m not so sure I can give you what you’re looking for. I may have a conflict of interest,” he said and squeezed your hand, causing you to laugh. “But I have the next best thing, the President of the United States on speed dial.”
“Then you’ve got yourself a deal.” His smile spread over his entire face now. “And thank you, for believing in me. And not firing me last night.”
“Well, you were right. A little outspoken, but nothing worse than what Toby has said to the President himself. There’s going to be some change in the west wing now, thanks to you.”
“Who knew all it took to get something done in this city is to have a temper tantrum?”
“Almost every politician in Congress,” Josh added before being interrupted by his pager. His face fell the slightest bit as he let out a sigh. “It’s Leo.”
“Back to work?”
“A crisis awaits,” he said, letting go of your hand as he shrugged his coat back on. Your fingers flexed against your side, already missing the warmth of Josh’s hand in yours. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow morning?” 
“Bright and early,”  You replied as you walked him to the door. “With a desk full of notes from Sam, I’m sure.”
“Oh if only we could all be so lucky.” He joked, as the two of you lingered in the doorway to your apartment. You really didn’t want him to go. “I’ll brief you in the morning, hopefully nothing too serious.”
“Okay. Um, drive safe.” You stumbled over your words, and you didn’t miss the way his dimple jumped out at your expense. 
“I will. Have a good night.”
“Night,” you mumbled back, watching as his eyes flickered down to your lips for a split second before taking his first step back from you. 
“Josh,” you choked out, and he turned back to face you in seconds. He waited for you to say something, but for once in your life, nothing came to mind.
“Cat got your tongue?” He jeered. You hated that he had this effect on you. And he was reveling in it.
“It’s all your fault, you know. Dropping the whole ‘conflict of interest’ bit, and then leaving without any explanation.”
“I’m sorry, let me be a little more clear.” he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him as butterflies erupted in your stomach. 
“Such a charmer,” you whispered as he dipped his head down, and finally kissed you.
His lips were softer than you imagined, slowly moving against your own. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about this moment before, but it was surpassing everything you thought it would be. Josh was always gentle with you, and he kissed you just the same. He took his time with you, and you could feel yourself getting lost in the feel of his body against yours.
He was the first to pull away, resting his forehead on yours as you caught your breath. 
“I think that made it very clear how much I like you.”
You smiled as you wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his neck.
“I like you too.” You replied, placing a light kiss on his jaw before pulling back to get another look at him, dimples on display. 
“If you keep looking at me like that I’m never going to make it back to the White House,” he joked, and you shoved his chest.
“Then get out of here, Josh. I’ll see you in the morning.”
You smiled as he leaned in to kiss you once more, teasing you as he pulled away, leaving you chasing his lips. You placed one more chaste kiss on his lips before letting go of him.
“Goodnight,” he said, gently squeezing your hand before finally walking down the hall. “I’ll be sure to tell Sam I cured you back to health.”
“In your dreams, Lyman.”
*****
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imaginecolby · 4 months
Text
Friends with Benefits || Part Six - The Scare
"y/n, i cannot believe you are still coming to work." your friend said to you as you were returning to your office after your lunch break.
"i used up so much of my PTO at christmas, i'm trying to accumulate some more so i can have some extra time for my maternity leave." you laughed as you sat back down at your desk.
"you're better than me. i would've been out of here as soon i could." they laughed. they returned to their desk, and you got back to work.
a few hours passed, and you were making your way through the day like normal. returning emails, making phone calls to clients, putting out fires in the department you oversaw. everything was going as well as you would've expected. until it wasn't.
all of a sudden, you felt the beginning of a contraction.
"oh no, mister man. it is too early for you to be coming." you groaned through gritted teeth. you coaxed yourself through the contraction, and is passed after about a minute. you went on about your day for another few hours, before you felt the pain return. you paced your office, which seemed to help contraction go away. after about the third or fourth occurrence, you figured you needed to call your doctor.
"i'd recommend you come in and be seen. i have an open appointment in twenty that you can take." your doctor said to you over the phone.
"perfect. i will be there." you said to them. you luckily were able to get a ride from a friend, and your doctor's office was only a few blocks from your job. you text colby while you were on your way, and let him know what was going on.
"i'm sure they're just braxton hicks, but my doctor just wants me to come in for some monitoring for a little bit. i'm on my way to the hospital now." your message read.
"i will be there as soon as i can." he replied. you pulled into the hospital parking lot, thanking your friend for the ride. you checked in and were immediately taken to a room. you waited just a few minutes before your doctor came in, explaining that they wanted to monitor your vitals, as well as your baby's.
after about twenty minutes, there was a knock on the door. you called for them to come in, and colby fell through the door.
"y/n! is everything okay?" he sighed, falling to the floor next to your bed.
"yes. everything is okay." you said, brushing his hair back from his forehead. "geez, did you run over here?" you teased, wiping his sweat from your hand.
"practically." he laughed awkwardly. just then, your doctor came back into the room.
"alright you two, or should i say three," they paused to take a seat. "everything is still as great as your last check up. baby boy is just getting a little impatient in there."
"are we at the point of bed rest yet?” you asked.
"not quite. i do recommend taking it easy, so you're not overly stressed. but not complete bed rest." they advised.
"okay. i can do that. work isn't too busy at the moment, so fingers crossed it stays that way." you said, rubbing your belly.
"perfect. let's get you set up to head home." your doctor said to you. you collected all of your things, got your discharge paperwork, and headed home. fortunately, your work day was almost done, so you didn't miss to much of your day.
you were in contact with your boss as soon as you got home to work out a plan for a lighter work load, and potentially starting your maternity leave sooner. they were fortunately very accommodating for your needs, it was lucky that you had such a good relationship with them.
once you got back to work, you were mainly working half days for the last month and a half leading up to your maternity leave. on your last day of work, your coworkers threw you a small baby shower for your last day. 
“i cannot believe you all did this for me. this is all too much.” you said through tears, as you continued opening your gifts. 
“you deserve it! we love you and we cant wait to meet your little one. we wish you and colby luck, and are sending you all the congratulations in the world.” one of them said to you.
“did i hear my name?” you heard a familiar voice ask. you turned and saw colby walking into the conference room where your festivities were being held. 
“what are you doing here!?” you asked gleefully, getting up to walk greet him. you gave him a hug and pressed a quick to his lips.
“oh, you know i never miss a good party.” he teased. “no, f/n text me and told me you were gonna need some help carrying things to the car.” he said.
as the shower was winding down, colby began taking things to the car, meticulously packing everything as to not damage any of the gifts. you thanked your friends again, gathering up the leftover food to take home. you made your way out to the parking garage to meet colby, walking with a few of your friends, the ones that actually planned the event. you thanked them profusely again for the shower, and for all the gifts. 
once you got home, you helped colby as much as you could with helping bringing in the gifts. once they were all inside, you began to unpack and clean up, placing them around your home in the places where they would be most used. you had so many blankets, clothes, toys and bottles. your baby was going to be well outfitted for his best life.
you stood in his nursery, which was finally all put together. colby had spent numerous hours in this room, putting together the crib, the dresser, and all the other furniture. he’d arranged it wonderfully, and you couldn’t believe how much this room had changed from your boring guest room. you stood there lost in thought for a while, before they were interrupted by colby’s voice.
“hey, there you are. you okay?” he asked, wiping away a stray tear from your cheek.
“yeah,” you said softly. “now that im out of work, it’s really starting to set in. in a few weeks, we’re gonna have a baby.” you said, rubbing your belly.
“i still can’t wrap my mind around it. seeing you grow every day has been so mind blowing, and seeing how big he’s gotten on his ultrasounds. it’s been kinda crazy.” colby laughed, placing his hand on yours on your belly. “but im excited.”
“me too.” you said, smiling up at him. he kissed you softly before leaning down to press a kiss to your belly. you couldn’t believe you were coming up on the end of your pregnancy, but you really were excited. especially knowing that you had colby on your side. you made a great team, and you knew you were gonna raise a wonderful kid.
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cowgurrrl · 1 year
Text
Kiwi
Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader
Author’s note: as I was writing this, I proclaimed in the most southern accent, “now we’re cookin’ with peanut oil!” so do that with that
Summary: Joel goes home for a month. You stay in California to work. What could possibly go wrong? [3.8k]
Warnings: HEAVILY implied casting couch culture, brief allusion to creepy Hollywood producers, yearning, I can’t think of anything else!!
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Boarding my flight now.
Thanks for letting me know?
Well, I texted my mama to let her know, and she told me to text "that girlfriend of mine."
Doesn't sound like she's a huge fan.
She'll live.
You like the message and go to put your phone away when it buzzes again.
Is it weird that I kinda miss talking to you?
You smile and ignore your name being called over the intercom for another beat.
There are a lot of weird things about you, Joel Miller, but that one feels the most normal.
Text me when you land in Austin. Tell your mom I said hi.
You tuck your phone away, fighting the stupid smile on your face, and look up to see a pissed-off PA walking towards you. You apologize and half jog to the sound stage where Ryan is waiting. 
"The perfect punctual queen is late for once? Is the world going to shit?" He asks, and you slap his arm.
"People are allowed to be late."
"Does your lateness have anything to do with your boy toy?"
"Are you ever gonna call him by his name?" You ask. He senses that you're stalling his question and take a deep breath. "Joel is flying home to Texas today to visit family and get some work done. He'll be gone for a month."
"Oh, how will you ever survive?" He pouts, and you give him a look. The director calling for places stops you from responding, but you threaten him with the promise of picking up the conversation later. 
You don't ever get to tell him off for suggesting that you can't live without Joel being in the same state because of how late shooting goes. It might've been exhaustion, but you swore that you saw the sun starting to rise over the horizon by the time you finally got to leave. You knocked out a good chunk of the scenes you were still working on, which is great news, but you were mentally and physically drained. You slept most of the next day and missed Joel's messages from one whole time zone away. 
Landed.
Jesus Christ, I forgot how hot it is here.
My mama told me to ask you if you go to church since she doesn't believe me.
Attached: Two photos
You laugh as you sleepily scroll through his texts when you wake up mid-afternoon, feeling a little bit better from your long night. One of the pictures he sent is of him sitting in the cab of an old truck with the caption, "This was my first car. I can't convince my dad to sell the damn thing." The second is a blurry photo of a blue-looking weed on the side of the road surrounded by what looks like thousands of other blue weeds. "Turns out the state flower will literally grow anywhere besides in a pot in my house."
A) I'm glad you made it in safely. B) Isn't Texas the armpit of the South? C) I don't go to church, and I never have, but please feel free to lie to her. D) I can imagine a young, emo Joel Miller driving it now.
He reads your messages almost as soon as they deliver, and your screen lights up with his initials as he calls you. You yawn as you pick up and hear chatter in the background of wherever he is.
"First of all," he starts in a determined tone. "Texas ain't the armpit of the South. That's South Carolina." He says. He hasn't even been in Texas for forty-eight hours, and his accent is already thick again.
"My mistake," you laugh. "Did you have another point, or was that it?"
"Second of all, why d'you sound so tired?"
"Obviously, I was out partying with strange men all night."
"Really?" He asks, and you scoff.
"No, Joel. Filming went really late yesterday. I don't think I got home until six this morning."
"Sounds intense." 
"Not as intense as being interrogated by your mother," you say, and he hums. You hear someone laughing in the background and relish in the joy that you're not there to witness. He doesn't say anything for a minute, and you wonder if the line dropped, but when you pull the phone away from your face, you see the call is still active. "You really miss me so much that you called me just to sit on the line?"
"Maybe I did." He says. You take a deep breath and glance at the clock on your bedside table. He's two hours ahead. The sun must be setting by now, casting gorgeous rays onto his skin and making his eyes look amber. You wonder what Texas air does to Joel's soul. Maybe it soothes him like only an old baby blanket can. Maybe it makes him jumpy, like he's waiting for a clap of thunder that never comes. Maybe it makes him wonder why he left in the first place. You wish you could be there to read his expression and try to decipher what he's thinking. Someone calls Joel's name in the background, and you hear him shuffle with the phone, probably covering the microphone with his hand because the voices become muffled. When the phone comes back to his ear, he takes a deep breath, and you do the same. "I gotta go. Can I call you tomorrow?" He asks. 
"I'm counting on it, Miller." You say, and he laughs before mumbling a good night and hanging up the phone. 
After that, it becomes a habit for Joel to call you every day from Texas. He'll tell you different stories about his parents, how Austin has changed since he left, and update you on how the newest album is coming. He listens to you rant about work, how tired you are, and how frustrated you always get toward the end of a project. Sometimes the conversations last ten minutes, and sometimes they last hours. One night, you fell asleep on the phone with him because he was trying to get your opinion on a new song, but you had spent the day filming the scene of your character giving birth, which was tiring in its own right. He doesn't chide you for it. He just sends you a goodnight text and promises to call you the following night.
You hate to admit it, but production speeds up with Joel out of town. You end up wrapping your scenes a week early while Ryan still has another couple of days of filming his scenes. You'll probably get called back in for reshoots in a few months, but you feel really good about the work you put out there, and you finally get the chance to rest before Melanie sends you more scripts to read over. You send Joel a photo of your open laptop and a glass of wine next to it as the California sun sets over your balcony. 
Wrap parties are looking different as I get older.
Don't worry. I'm sure you'll still be a drunk, no matter how old.
Asshole.
Lashing out is the first sign of a bigger problem. I think I should call Melanie.
You laugh and search for the middle finger emoji when he sends you another text.
Paul got me on the list for some charity event this Saturday. Want to come with me? He said it'd probably be better to get some more dates in sooner rather than later.
The reminder that this is all fake shifts your entire mood. Of course, it's always lingering in your mind, but the texting didn't feel fake. The late-night calls didn't feel fake. He didn't feel fake. In fact, this is the first time you feel like you have a sliver of an idea as to who Joel Miller actually is when he isn't selling out world tours and recording platinum albums. It's stupid for you to feel this way. You have no reason to. No right. You take a deep breath and type out a message.
Sure.
On Friday, you drive to the airport to pick Joel up, creating an over-the-top scene of you running and jumping into his arms. His hat falls off his head and onto the ground as he catches you and kisses you sweetly. When he sets you back on the ground, he doesn't let you go right away. He lingers in your arms, and even though your feelings are still hurt and you're still trying to remind yourself that this is all fake, you let him. He smells like a detergent you don't recognize, but underneath that, you catch a whiff of the cologne he always wears. You rub his back as you hold him in the middle of the airport. 
"'S really good to see your face," he says into your neck, and you nod. 
"You too."
As you drive him home, he brings you up to speed on how the album is coming along and how different Texas was when he was there. You tell him about the last few days on set and an upcoming press junket in New York City. He lights up when you tell him the dates as you maneuver through LA traffic.
"I'm scheduled to go to New York to work with my sound mixer that same time. He's got his own studio out there now and knows more about it than I do," he says. "Maybe we can fly together? Make it look like a couple's trip?"
"Sure," you say. He furrows his eyebrows at your lack of excitement, and you scramble for something else to talk about. "How are your parents?" You ask. The rest of the ride to his house goes off without a hitch, and he kisses you again as he gets out of the car, both of you highly aware of the car full of paparazzi that's been tailing you since you left the airport. He promises to pick you up at five the following night, and you just nod. When you get home, you walk calmly into your house, lock the door, and scream.
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Joel's hand is in yours as you wait for your turn to walk the carpet. You're not sure why there's a red carpet at a charity event, but you're not about to throw a fit about it. Joel is wearing a sleek black suit, and you're matching with a long black dress. It's a low-cut backless dress, and a sparkly necklace your stylist picked out rests against your sternum. Joel taps your hand, and you look at him.
"You okay?" He asks. He looks worried as he steps between you and the wall of photographers waiting for you to stand and pose perfectly for their photos. "You've been quiet the past few days."
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired. I think I'm still recovering from that last week of filming." 
"Are you sure you're not gettin' sick?" He asks, raising his other hand to your cheeks like he's checking your temperature. You smile half-heartedly and swat his hand away.
"I'm sure," you say. He tries to say more, but someone with a clipboard gets your attention and asks if you're ready. You nod and step onto the carpet, holding Joel's hand. The press erupts into a cloud of noise, startling you and making Joel laugh. You slap his chest and plaster on your rehearsed smile. You do your best to look where all the photographers are yelling at you to look and try different poses so they can get what they need. Everyone has to make a living, you suppose. You just wish their salary wasn't at the expense of your privacy. 
You get halfway down the carpet, taking pictures as a couple and some solo shots, before one of the photographers yells a new command. "Can we get a kiss?" He shouts. You pretend not to hear him and show off how the dress dips down your back, hugging you in all the right places. Still, the photographer is demanding a kiss, and now others have joined in too. It feels very "dance, monkey, dance," but you do your best to grit your teeth and smile. You catch Joel staring at you when you turn. It could be the flashing bulbs of cameras or how he's looking at you, but his eyes are sparkling, and the creases in the corners make you melt just a little. 
You hold out your hand for him to join you, which he happily obliges, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close enough for him to kiss your temple. "You alright?" He asks against your skin as you rest a hand on his chest and look up at him. You nod and glance between his eyes and his lips. The chorus of people practically begging for a picture of you two kissing is growing, and you raise your eyebrows at him. 
"You gonna keep them waiting, or are you gonna kiss me?" You ask, the playful lilt reserved for him returning to your voice. He gives you a look and smirks before leaning down a pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. Everyone ooh's and aw's at you two, but you only care about how fast his heartbeat is against your palm. You want to blame it on the anxiety of walking the carpet and having people scream at you to do whatever they want. No, you have to blame it on that. There's no other option.
When you finally get inside, Joel gets you a glass of wine and a mixed drink for himself. The event is sweet and goes by quickly as you listen to people talk about something they're so passionate about. You decide to donate some money under an anonymous name once you are all excused to the reception, where there's food, more alcohol, and dancing. Joel leaves your side to catch up with some musician buddies, kissing your cheek before disappearing into the crowd. 
You nurse your wine as people you've never met start conversations with you. They're all polite and ask about your newest project, how LA's been treating you, and what's up next for you. You can't reveal much due to the NDA you signed at the beginning of shooting, but you tell them how excited you are for them to be able to see it and admit you've got some auditions lined up in the coming weeks. You've probably given the same answers to a handful of different people when you realize you're out of wine and Joel is still missing. You scan the room for him, but you can't find him. That's fine, you think. It's not like he's obligated to stick to my side at all times. He can have his own life.
You sigh as you belly up to the bar and order another glass of wine. You almost make it a double when someone taps your arm, making you turn. "I don't mean to interrupt, but you look exquisite tonight. I just thought you should know," ultra-famous producer Richard Pike tells you. You blink at him, your brain struggling to catch up with the fact that one of the men who's made the most award-winning films in the past twenty years just noticed you. "I know everyone has probably told you that tonight, but-"
"Oh, no. Thank you. I'm sorry. I was just a little starstruck right then," you apologize before holding your hand out to introduce yourself. He takes your hand and kisses the top of it. It's very dramatic, but this is Hollywood we're talking about. Your glass of wine arrives, and he pays the bartender before you can even reach for your purse. 
"Women as gorgeous as you should never have to pay for a drink. Ever." He says, and you laugh.
"I mean, I won't argue with you on that," you say, taking your glass in your hand to clink it against his glass of scotch. "Thank you, Mr. Pike."
"Please, call me Richard," he insists. "You just finished another movie, didn't you? You're a very busy girl."
"Yes, sir. I'm already looking for new projects to audition for." 
"Oh, I remember when I had actors audition. See, that was before I started writing roles for specific actors. Some people call that crude or playing favorites, but it hasn't failed me yet." 
"No, sir, it hasn't."
"So formal! Yes, sir! No, sir! Are you like this with everyone?" He asks as he takes a big swig of his drink.
"Just people who can cast me," you say. You're partially joking, but it's enough for him. He laughs, and his hand lands perfectly on your exposed back as he cackles loudly. You force yourself to laugh along with him and suddenly get that sinking feeling in your chest. Everybody seems to strategically look away from you two at the bar, and you want to be anywhere but here. 
"You know, I've seen a few of your movies," he says, getting close to your face like he's telling you a secret. "I think you've got a lot of potential. With just a little coaching and one great role," his hand dips lower down your back, and you freeze. Ice water runs through your veins, and everything is screaming at you to run away, but your heels stay planted against the expensive hardwood. "We'll make an Oscar winner of you yet."
"Excuse me," a familiar drawl says behind you. You both turn and make eye contact with Joel. "May I steal my girlfriend for a dance? I promised her one on the way over." He asks, but he's already wrapping an arm around your waist, ready to pull you away. The hand on your back disappears and claps Joel on the shoulder.
"Of course! You take good care of this one!"
"Yes, sir," Joel says as he pulls you to the dance floor. Your heart is still beating in your throat, and you feel like you could cry, but Joel's looking at you with such kindness. You find safety in him as you wrap your arms around his neck and slowly sway with him, the soft material of his dress shirt calming you down. He waits until Pike is out of earshot to lean down to talk in your ear. "Now, I know you don't need me savin' you like that. Are you sure you're okay?" 
"He's one of the biggest producers in Hollywood. He could tank my career in a single email. You want to be the one to yell at him?" You ask. "If I said or did something, he would've doubled down, but he respects you more. He backed off because, in his mind, I belong to you."
"How do you know?"
"I've dealt with people like him before. They're all the same old men who think they can offer you a legacy on a silver platter if you fuck them. I've gotten enough advice from other actors to know how to handle them. Let them get touchy but find an out before it can go too far. Stroke their egos so they feel good about themselves. Basically, do whatever to keep you and your career safe."
"I thought stuff like that didn't happen anymore."
"You and everyone else in the world. Things don't just magically change because one guy goes to jail." You sigh. 
"I'm sorry," he says, and you shake your head. 
"It's fine."
"No, it's not. You shouldn't have to deal with that."
"It was one of the first things people told me when I started. They said it was something I might just have to… endure but that the weight would get easier to carry. One actress even told me that it was the price we have to pay because everyone wants to be us," you chuckle. He doesn't interrupt you; he just stares at you with apologetic eyes like he would take this burden from you if he could. You almost believe him. "I don't think that's true. I think most people would hand this lifestyle in the second it got too real."
"What would you do if you weren't an actor?" He asks, and you shrug.
"I always thought about being a teacher. Sure, the pay is shit, and the work is thankless, but kids are our future, you know? There's something really special about shaping young minds."
"Sounds nice."
"What about you? What would you do if you weren't doing this?"
"Probably something with my hands. I worked as a mechanic for a while, and I really liked that. I liked how it was a big puzzle that needed to get sorted out and fixed up."
"Why'd you stop?" You ask. 
"I needed to grow up. My dad owned a contracting company, so I worked with him until I saved up enough to record my first album. And that was that."
"It's crazy how we fought so hard to get to where we are, and now that we're here, it's..." You trail off, trying to figure out what you want to say.
"Terrifying?" He suggests, and you nod. "Yeah, I'm terrified every second of every day."
"You don't act like it." 
"I don't act like a lot of things that I should," he says. He stares at you so intently that the rest of the world fades away. You don't hear the song die down or the applause erupt around you as the band takes a bow. You can feel his heartbeat against your chest. You know how crazed it is. He wets his lips before stepping back and trailing his eyes down your dress and back up to your face like he's taking you in for the first time. "You really do look beautiful tonight." You swallow around the lump in your throat and smooth your hands down your dress, suddenly self-conscious. 
"Thank you." You mumble. 
Pictures of you two kissing on the carpet and dancing inside are circulating online before you even leave the event. You wake up to a huge batch of texts— one from your mom, two from Joel, six from Ryan, and one from Melanie about your trip to New York that you barely read. You would've stayed in bed wallowing in your own bad luck if there wasn't a sharp knock on your door. You groan the whole way down the stairs like it will help you greet whoever has decided to show up at your house at eight in the morning, but nobody's there when you open the door. 
Instead, a bouquet of flowers in a lovely vase sits on your mat with a note sticking out. You glance down your street and barely catch a delivery truck turning down the block. You carefully take the flowers into your kitchen before plucking the note between the petals. 
Pretty flowers for a pretty girl - JM 
(PS bought these of my own volition)
"Goddammit," you mutter under your breath as you think about his lips on yours, his soft shirt, and his stupid fucking, "I don't act like a lot of things I should."
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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year
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This was a request from @lilonsnitch which is what started me opening up requests. This is the only request I’m posting for now because I had already done some of it, so this was just a quick thing. I HOPE YOU LOVE IT ❤️
Modern Migraine Steve / Part 2
Steve was having a no good, very bad day.
It started fine. Great, even.
He woke up in Eddie’s arms, he showered in Eddie’s arms, he even ate breakfast in Eddie’s arms.
When he left Eddie’s arms is when shit went downhill fast.
He had a dentist appointment he’d been putting off for months. Nothing major, just a cavity that needed filling.
The excessive drilling must have sent signals to his brain to render him useless, though. His head was pounding, and he knew within the next hour, he’d need to be in a dark room with no noise.
But he had work. And he missed a day last week because of a migraine.
It’s not that he was worried about money. Eddie seemed to have plenty, and no matter what Steve did, he rarely let him pay for anything.
But he liked his job. He liked his coworkers for the most part.
He liked having something to do.
But he knew there was no way he could work if this headache turned into a migraine, and statistically it would, though he was never good at statistics in high school.
So he drove back home, pissed off and in enough pain to want to cry already.
Eddie was sitting at the desk in the office when Steve walked in the back entrance to the bar, texting back and forth with someone furiously.
Steve wordlessly walked over to him, pushed him away from the desk, and sat down in his lap with his head on his shoulder.
Eddie’s arms wrapped around him and Steve felt himself relax.
His head wasn’t magically healed, but just having Eddie there was enough for him to hold the tension off for a bit longer.
“Everything okay, sweetheart?”
“Head.”
“Should go upstairs before it gets worse, love.”
“Wanna be with you.”
Eddie kissed the top of his head before he moved his arms away for a moment, probably to check his phone again, and bring them back to rest on the small of Steve’s back.
“Amber’s sick and Carly’s got class. I might have to work the bar tonight.”
He spoke softly against the top of Steve’s head, quieter than he normally would be to make sure it didn’t bother Steve’s head too much.
Steve couldn’t quite contain the whine he let out, but Eddie quickly kissed the top of his head again and ran his fingers up and down his spine slowly to keep him relaxed.
“I’m trying to get Darren to come in, but he has his daughters this weekend.” Eddie sighed. “Let me bring you upstairs and get you settled, okay?”
Eddie had already worked four nights this week from Amber being sick and it being busier than usual. It was starting to wear on him a bit as he was usually working for most of the day in the office and receiving deliveries. Steve could tell he was stressed.
He didn’t want to add to that stress.
He pulled away, wincing at the pain shooting up his neck at the sudden movement.
“I’m okay. You work,” Steve said, standing up slowly to avoid any more shooting pains.
Eddie stood too, pulling Steve against him before he could stumble away.
“Hey. You’re not a burden, so stop thinking you are,” Eddie muttered against his temple, ending his sentence with a kiss.
It was fucking weird how he always did that. Steve was sort of worried he could read his mind, but honestly, there wasn’t much he didn’t tell him anyways.
Pretty much since the first day, the day he’d handed him water with lemon slices on the side because he could tell he had a headache, Eddie just knew him. Inside and out.
“Can take care of myself.”
“I know you can, sweetheart. But I’m here.”
Like that was simple. Like Steve was used to it.
Even six months into their relationship he wasn’t.
Some mornings he woke up in bed alone and thought Eddie had finally come to his senses, completely forgetting that he was in Eddie’s bed, in Eddie’s apartment, in Eddie’s bar.
Some nights when Eddie had to work the bar, he was convinced he would come home and kick him out.
He had no reason for thinking these things; Eddie was incredible.
He was patient and caring and loving and kind. He was perfect.
But Steve had doubts, especially when he had migraines and Eddie had to take care of him.
Eddie started to lead him away from the desk and towards the stairs that led to the apartment.
Every step felt jarring, his head pounding along when his feet hit the steps.
When they made it into the apartment, Eddie picked him up and carried him to the bedroom, ignoring Steve’s protests.
He set him down on the bed gently, kissing his forehead and quickly leaving to follow the routine: water, ice pack, pills. Later: hot shower, head massage, sleep.
It was second nature to them both now, and Steve was grateful even if he was worried that he was too needy like this.
When Eddie had him tucked into bed, ice pack covering his head and water within reach, he leaned down to place a kiss to his lips.
“Love you. Text me if you need me,” Eddie whispered against his mouth.
“Mkay,” Steve said around a yawn.
He knew he’d wake up to soft kisses from Eddie, arms under his neck and legs to carry him to the bathroom for a hot shower. He knew Eddie would wash his hair, gently scratching his scalp to ease some of the pain. He knew Eddie would dry him off, dress him in his comfy clothes, and tuck him back into bed, curling around him to keep him safe.
He knew Eddie would do all of that because no one had ever loved Steve the way Eddie did.
(I did technically have a tag list for if this ‘verse ever got continued so here you go  @urallidjits @eddiemunsonswife)
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dinums · 3 months
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Secrets and Broken Hearts
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Chapter 4
Thomas Shelby x (Writer) Reader
"I am a woman in love, I wear my heart on my sleeve and smile with not a single thought. I am a woman in love, happily content to where I shall be and where I shall go, as long as I am with him."
Authors Note: I made this story with not much thought, but I wanted to portray the reader and Tommy living their separate lives to have you, readers, have a gist on what its like, to make the character, Ms. Bennett feels real. I don't really know if that makes sense or if I'm doing it correctly, but please enjoy :)))
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Two days and six hours, it's been exactly two days and six hours since I've started this investigation that I burdened myself with. All I've been getting are bits of information from the men and women. Women loved to gossip, so much so that they became one of the sources of said information. These missing wives, they had nothing in common with one another. They were just normal working women before they got married and settled down. What would society even do with them? I feel like a jester, juggling my social life together with this secret double life. I never really got used to such taxing activities mentally. This whole investigation, could it be some murderer? Human Traffickers? Surely, this culprit had a motive, a reason, something these women had that they wanted, something these women can give, choice or not.
"Why does everyone call you by your last name?" Andrew suddenly asked, which made me look over at the small child playing by the racks of clothes in William's shop.
Tilting my head, I seem to not know the reason behind it either. Andrew is the son of the man I visited to get close to have more information about the missing wives rather than relying on gossip alone. The child himself was quite entertaining to be around. He spoke so freely about his mother, telling stories of how loving the woman can be.
"Well, if you want, you can call me by my first name," I said with a smile. Walking over to crouch down to his eye level, I gave him a pat on the head, which earned me a smile in return
"Isn't this a sight, hm?" I heard the familiar voice of William from behind. He was at the back with Catherine earlier, presumably sorting out fabrics and dresses.
"C'mon, I've only offered to let this little guy stay here while his father worked, for the assurance that nothing will happen," I said softly though assuming from their reactions, it wasnt taken quite kindly. The statement itself was considered a lie. I lied. Lying straight to the face of the man I love, like how I would every day to everyone, including this child.
"So you don't want me here... Ms. (Y/N)?" Andrew asked me, his face looked sad, eyes like melting glaciers about to fall.
"Of course not, I just meant that I couldn't risk you being alone without your father, even though -"
"So you care for me.. right?" The little child said, hopeful, which made me think, how can he care about my feelings towards him in such a small amount of time we've been together? Children truly are innocent, things to be kept safe from the world we live in. Furthermore, care. To care is to help, a genuine action done out of the kindness of one's own heart. I do that, correct? I think for a moment, my actions, words, and emotions all contradict one another. Both men in the room seemed to take notice of my silence, which in turn made me aware. Aware that they can never know these thoughts, to Bury it, to hide. Breaking from my thoughts, I smiled at the child.
"Of course I do, but later your father will pick you up, I'll have William stay with you since I need to go for a bit, yeah?" Standing back up, I walked over to William. He then wrapped his arms around my waist, leaning against him while I looked back at Andrew. Understandingly, the child nodded, which made me smile.
"Eh? Where will my heart go? Guess she'll leave me alone once again..." William joked, kissing me on the cheek, which made me chuckle.
Seeing the display of affection, the child grimaced and then ran off to play somewhere else, which made me and William laugh.
"I promised you a date. Therefore, you must let me go for a while to prepare," I giggled. Going to dates on Friday was kind of like our tradition, a simple act to show love and to feel it radiate from each other. Feeling his lips on mine for a brief moment, I smiled.
"Alright, I'll pick you up at our place," William smiled. He's always such a loving man, doing more than beyond.
"See you later, love," I said, parting with a kiss before I headed out. Love was something I wasn't familiar with, which sometimes led me to be confused on how to act around William, though lucky enough that he guided me through it.
Walking down the street, I'm greeted with familiar faces. Some I can't remember the names. The smoke filled air, and the mud on my shoes did little to dampen my mood. Suddenly, people started to run about, screaming and shouting.
Confused, I slowed my footsteps. There, on a shop, a lifeless man was dead with Danny holding a bloody knife. My eyes widened, I tried to move, but nothing came out, I held my breath, and though I investigated crimes like this, I never saw a man dead right in front of me. From this day, I'm sure I'll never get used to this.
Someone passes by me, but it can be considered more like shoved. It was Thomas Shelby. He went over, took the knife from the man's hand, and calmed him down. The scene deescalated just as quickly as it happened. Once Thomas got Danny to go away, coming with some surge of confidence, I began to walk towards him with his hack turned to me.
"Mr. Shelby..?" I said softly as to not startle the man, whipping his head back, he looked at me without uttering a word, he simply raised a brow which I took as a cue to keep going.
"What will happen to Danny now..? He just -" stopping myself to look at the dead body in front of us, he followed my gaze and just shook his head. Taking a cigarette, he lit one up and placed it on his mouth, blowing the smoke in the corpses' direction. "Mr. Shelby, I worry for him and his family.."
"Don't stick your nose into others' business, saves you the trouble, eh?" He said, as he was about to walk past me. He took my hand and gave me a few quids, which caused me confusion. Was this for my silence? Though that seems rather odd since a quarter of the town already saw what happened, or was it so I'd stop with being so nosy?
"For the bread."
"Bread? What bread?" I asked, my brows furrowed as I looked up at the man. The more he acted, the more he perplexed me. Seeing his face, he tilted his head as if he should be confused
"You dont remember, again?" I shook my head, remembering what he gave me moments ago, i tried to have him take the money back, but he refused, saying he already gave them, so it'll be no use. In the end, he walked away and left me be, confused, I placed the coins inside my coat pocket before walking home. What did i forget again? No matter what I have other things to do at the moment, I need to get the memory of the dead body out my head.
After preparing for my date, at eight o'clock sharp there was a knock on the door, I smiled and opened it. William appeared with a bouquet and fresh smile, I'm taken back to memories when he was still courting me.
"Flowers for the beautiful lady?" He asked, which I gladly took. Holding up his hand, I held them. I locked the door, and we began to walk towards the pathway to a small restaurant.
"Thank you for this, for everything, Will," I said while we kept walking hand in hand.
"Then I should thank you too"
"For what?"
"For letting me love you"
"Then, you're welcome."
With that, we spent the rest of the day together, I told him about what happened earlier, and he's told me of stories he heard and so on. Everything feels nice. It feels like home as we both made it out to be.
...
That night, Ms. Bennett was content with her lover. Everything played out perfectly. She lived a good life and was happily in love. Maybe fate can say the same for the man she bumped into earlier as he's inside the Garrison, enthralled by the singing Barmaid before him. Surely both Ms. Bennett and Mr. Shelby will live their lives with love found in someone else's eyes.
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lxvenxo · 1 year
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wow its been awhile since ive done some incorrect quotes --
quotes include: Icemav, Floydsin, and some Phoenix & Goose
Bob: While I'm gone, you're in charge Hangman. Hangman: Yes! Bob, whispering to Phoenix: You're secretly in charge, but I don't want him to feel bad. Phoenix: Obviously.
Bob: So, are you two friends? Hangman: Yes. Phoenix: No.
Phoenix: H-how do you ask someone out? Hangman: Well, first- Bob: Don't ask him, he asked me out in a McDonalds parking lot. Phoenix: …And you said yes?
Bob: We've got to find a way to cut down our expenses. What can we live without? Phoenix: Hangman, probably.
playing twister Phoenix: Right hand red. Hangman: ends up on top of Bob Bob: You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? Phoenix: I stopped spinning like 15 minutes ago. Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't notice.
Maverick, sweating: Iceman, there’s something I need to ask you- Iceman: Finally! You’re proposing! Maverick: How’d you know? Iceman: Maverick, you’ve dropped the ring five times during dinner. Iceman: I even picked it up once.
Maverick: Iceman, you love me, right? Iceman: Normally I’d say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere I won’t like.
Goose: And now for a gay update with Maverick and Iceman. Slider: Getting gayer. Goose: Thank you, Slider.
Some Extra !!
Rooster: Just be yourself. Hangman: Really? Rooster, I have one day to win over Bob’s parents. Hangman: How long did it take for you guys to like me? Coyote: Couple of weeks. Phoenix: Six months. Maverick: Jury’s still out. Hangman: See Rooster? ‘Just be yourself,’ what kind of garbage advice is that?!
*Everyone is playing a board game together* Rooster: I will put 'A' down to make 'A'. Phoenix: I will add onto your 'A' to make 'AT'. Hangman: I will add onto your 'AT' to make 'RAT'. Bob: I will add onto your 'RAT' to make 'BIOSTRATAGRAPHIC'. Hangman: *flips the board*
Hangman: ARE YOU- Rooster: Fucking. Hangman: KIDDING ME?! YOU- Rooster: Fucking. Hangman: IDIOT! Phoenix: …What was that? Rooster: Bob banned Hangman from swearing, so I’m helping them out.
Phoenix: What’s up with Hangman? They’ve been laying on the floor for like….an hour now? Rooster: They're just a little overwhelmed. Phoenix: Why? Rooster: Bob smiled at them.
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Mix and Match Blurb Submission (from a new fan!) Rooster/Dealer's Choice/Piano (or alternatively, aviators, because why the hell not?)/"I'm not sorry."
Welcome, welcome! I'm so glad you're here!
This one was tough, but I hope you like it! It's a little bit of fluff, a little bit of angst. I may revisit this prompt in the future, for sure.
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And I'd Do It All Again
You’re sitting at the piano bench, your fingers ghosting along the keys when Bradley got home that night. It’s late, and on a normal day, he would have been home nearly two hours ago. But it wasn’t a regular night, and he had been detained on base for a reprimand. You hadn’t bothered waiting around for him, too blinded by your anger.
You don’t look up when he walks in, nor do you respond when he calls your name. Instead, you press down on the ivory a little bit harder. You’re not playing any specific melody or keeping any type of tune, but you think the screeching that is coming out of the instrument is a good representation of what you’re feeling right now. 
“Are you going to ignore me?” 
He sighs when you do just that. He straddles the bench beside you so that he’s fully facing you. You can feel his body heat and smell the mixture of jet fuel and his cologne. He doesn’t touch you and you think you’re grateful for that. 
“I’m not sorry,” he spoke gently. The piano makes an abrupt sound as you suddenly stop playing. Still, you don’t look at him. “You are a damn good pilot, and you deserve a lot more respect than what you get. I bite my tongue a lot more than I should when we’re at work, because I know you can fight your own battles and I know that’s what you want me to do. But you’re also my wife. And the moment some asshole thinks just because he thinks he’s better than you and can push you like he did? That’s not something I’ll ignore. I will never, ever apologize for defending you for that.” 
You sit in the quiet for several long moments as you consider his words. 
Truthfully, it had been inevitable. The hot shot new pilot who was subbing in for Omaha for the next few weeks had been more than a little demeaning since he arrived at Top Gun six days ago, talking down to not only you, but Phoenix and Halo as well. His patience was already running thin by the time the douchebag thought it was okay to push you when you showed him up in the classroom. The guy deserved it, but you hated that your husband even had to put himself in that position for you, and that he would potentially face consequences that impact his career for it. 
If you were honest with yourself, you were grateful. 
You finally turn your head. His whiskey colored eyes look back at you, imploring you to forgive him, but steadfast in not backing down either. You let out a sigh and shuffle closer between his spread legs on the piano bench. He takes it as permission and lets a hand settle on your thigh. 
“Is it going in your official file?” you ask quietly. 
“No. Mav and Hondo were in the room and saw it happen. They backed me up with Cyclone.” 
You breathe a sigh of relief and lean your body fully against his. His arms are immediately around you, holding you tightly. 
“You didn’t have to hit him,” you mutter into his khaki uniform shirt. He presses a kiss to your hair. 
“Yes I did. And you know it. Please don’t ask me to apologize, because I won’t.” 
You nod, knowing that, at the end of the day, you would have done the same thing if the roles were reversed. 
“Thank you for always wanting to protect me,” you respond instead. Bradley tucks a finger under your chin, titling your head back far enough to meet his eyes again. He connects your lips softly, the first one you’d shared since he left before you that morning. 
“I’ll always take care of you, baby. Always.” 
count count: 637
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