#i'm tired of appreciating little things. i want big things! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inkyray · 26 days

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INKED

MATT STURNIOLO

a/n: this is my first oneshot and i deadass have no idea what im doing, go easy on me. im so used to writing full stories i kind of struggle with stand alone oneshots but yeah, i appreciate constructive criticism

3.6k words

warnings/content ahead: the bitch is getting tattooed yall, smut, p in v, brief fingering, degrading, hair pulling, the plot that leads up to the smut is longer than the smut itself ☠️

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You felt the prickly needle press ink in and out of your flesh, it spared small stings that you didn't exactly hate. Nick sat on his living room couch not far away from you, but still far enough to raise his voice a little so you could properly hear him. He had a good bond with the tattoo artist, and she didn't mind coming to his house to ink him up.

Nick sat with his short sleeve rolled above his shoulder, revealing a tattoo he had just got done with. His shoulder is sore and red, covered in a layer of antibiotic ointment and plastic wrap. Earlier today he had invited you over, since he knew how long you've been wanting a tattoo, and you had decided you know what, fuck it. You tagged along. You and Nick are close, he's one of your only best friends in LA, since it isn't really where you're originally from. You two would hang out any chance the other was free.

It often got annoying for his other brothers how much you were around, but they had caught a quick loving for you and found the place empty and weird when you weren't there, considering how much you were with Nick.

The buzzing of the tattoo machine filled the silent void before it was interrupted by a TikTok Nick was watching on full volume, making you two laugh as the tattoo artist held down on your waist to keep you from messing her up. You were getting a tramp stamp tattoo on your lower back, your sweatpants folded right on where your underwear begins.

A few minutes pass of just buzzing, your stinging skin, loud TikToks, and the smell of antiseptic.

"We should make a TikTok." Nick announced after a while. You raise an eyebrow, "Now?" you wondered. Nick nods, taking the throw blanket from off of him and getting up. "I don't know Nick, kind of in the middle of getting a tattoo." You smiled up at him as he got closer. You were laying on your stomach, your body against the black leather chair wrapped in plastic, but your elbows kept the rest of your body that weren't your ribs, up, so you could use your phone.

"Oh please, you look hot as hell right now." He stood, chuckling. You rolled your eyes. "Nick. I'm in sweatpants and a tank." Nick looked at you from his phone, tapping a few things on there which you assumed had to do with TikTok. He quite literally sighed. "You are so unaware of yourself, girl."

You shrugged and blew him a kiss. "So TikTok or nah? I want to do, like a transition of our tattoos and us lip syncing to some shit song from the 2010's. I already made a draft of myself doing it before I got this bad boy." He points to his new splotchy tattoo of the bat on his shoulder. "Yeah, guess so. You're gonna have to film me in the midst of getting my tattoo, though. I didn't exactly record myself before this."

With the press of a time skip button, you guys filmed the TikTok, posted it, and Nick declared he was tired, going for a nap to his room. This wasn't out of the ordinary for him to be asleep with you here, you'd do it all the time when he was at your place, and either one of you guys eventually followed in the others footsteps, finishing whatever you were doing and going to lay beside them to sleep too.

The front door of the house opened, and you already knew it was Matt and Chris. They were running errands for their manager and Nick had decided to stay behind with you, since you were planning on getting tattoos together. Footsteps creep into the place and you wait for their reaction. They didn't exactly know you were also getting one, and they knew about your commitment issues with tattoos, so this was kind of a big deal.

Chris walks in first and doesn't even turn to look at you, assuming you were Nick getting tattooed. "You're still getting inked? How big is your bat supposed to be, Nick." He grabs a Pepsi from the fridge and pops it open. "Pretty big." You answered, your head resting on your palm as he turned to look at you, Matt following closely behind.

"Oh, shit." Chris gulps down the Pepsi, walking over to you as he inspects the tattoo on your lower back. "How does it look?" You question as you see Matt stop in his tracks and come closer to get a better look at it. "Fucking sexy. Good job." He holds out his fist and you bump it, smiling at the comment.

You feel Matt's gaze linger too long on your skin as Chris goes back into the kitchen, making another comment about the tattoo you didn't quite catch. The stinging on your back now feels ice cold. "What do you think, Matt?" You wonder, turning your head slightly to look at him.

"Bold. For someone like you." He mutters, walking over to the kitchen to grab a root beer, maneuvering around Chris since he's constantly in his way. You scoff. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Is Nick sleeping?" Chris asks, you nod, he quickly goes looking for him.

"What I mean is that it's a tattoo decision I would've never thought you'd pick." Matt says, looking at you from the kitchen as he sips from his drink. This could mean so many things and you found yourself getting confused. What? "Matt, I'm gonna need you to elaborate."

It wasn't a secret that you were the least closest with Matt. Everytime you'd try to do the things you'd do with Nick but with him, there'd be some sort of thick invisible fog in the air, making you hyper-aware of everything you're doing and saying. Your chest always felt too heavy around Matt and the tension it weighed on you was too much. It wasn't normal, and you were sure Matt could feel it too. You knew a lot of stuff about him, and he knew a lot about you, but there was something between you two keeping you from taking the extra step of declaring you guys close.

He lets his eye's dart everywhere in thought, putting together how he's going to explain it to you. "Mmmm," he mumbles, "...no." He decides as he begins to leave the room, stopping in his tracks before he fully leaves, peeking his head around the corner. "You look good though, what Chris said." And he leaves.

You are beyond confused, you turn your head toward the tattoo artist, who was sharing the same look on her face. She spared you a shrug.

It's been a few weeks and your tattoo is fully healed, you loved the way you felt with it. The urge to get a million more tattoos on you was strong, but you held back.

On the other hand, being around Matt had begun getting more unbearable by the day. When you two were left alone, there was nothing to talk about. You would shift uncomfortably and he would bring out his phone as a distraction, doing nothing significant on it other than switch between apps. You were too aware of the other and the air around you would increasingly thicken. You were sure if you tried, you could slice through it with a knife.

Right now, was one of those times. Matt in the driver's seat and you were in the middle back seat, Chris and Nick had gone inside a store to grab a few stuff.

You watched his fingers tap the steering wheel, his thumb patiently rubbing against it, studying the fact they were slender and long, trained by veins that went down his hands. They looked so perfect under the gleaming hour of the sun. His nails weren't painted, so his short nails naturally colored themselves pink with a small white hill on his thumb. You let your imagination run free. Touching the dip of your waist or massaging the inside of your thigh. His fingers curving themselves inside you…

His eyes darted at the rear mirror, catching you focused on his hands. It took you a second too long to realize that. You looked up at the mirror and found his blue eyes fixated on you, dark hair sitting across his forehead and strands messily on his eyes. Your heart gave you a loud thump and a punch in the face of flushing blood. You didn't look away from his eyes, but you could still see his thumb grazing against the steering wheel.

Your brain was empty of words. You had no idea what to say and you were sure neither did he, until he began to speak. "What ever happened to that tattoo?" He asked, still looking at you from the mirror. You furrowed your eyebrows. It takes you a second until you realize he was talking about the tramp stamp you have. "It ran away." You answered blankly, because what kind of question was that supposed to be.

Matt sighed, looking out of the window, you watched him look outside as you calculated the messy hair that didn't seem too bad to pull on. "I mean, it never made an appearance again. No one ever saw it ever since you got it." He said. A small smile forms onto your mouth. "Some people have seen it." You mutter lightly, not bothering to look away from him as he goes back looking at you.

"Is that so?" He wasn't smiling, his face was processing a look of annoyance. You wink.

The car doors are pulled open and in one sudden movement, Chris comes in with a laugh and sits next to you, Nick follows closely behind, chuckling in that deep-voiced way he does after he made a joke he was proud of, and seating himself in the passenger seat. "Why are you sitting here?" Matt questions, not bothering to ask what they're laughing at. Chris takes out a Mento and offers you one, you reluctantly take it and let it sit in your mouth, wanting to suck the flavor out before you chew it.

Nick laughs even harder. "Oh, I didn't even realize I was sitting here. Chris, and you just let me?" Chris cackles, "It doesn't matter Nick, it's just the passenger seat." He puts an arm around you. "Plus I wanted to sit with her." He tells you specifically, looking at you as he begins to chew the Mento. "How I am honored." You sarcastically put a hand to your heart, not once taking your eyes off Matt. He was expressionless and began driving.

The conversation held on and turned into a different topic, you would make sly remarks here and there but for you, the entire ride home was hard. Matt would catch you staring at him, and when he had to turn the car back with his hand behind Nick's headrest, he would look at you longer than the road behind him. He didn't look really… pleased. Which had you amused.

He was upset that he wasn't one of the people who got to see your tattoo finished and healed, and you were catching onto that. The longer they'd drive, the more stern his expression would shift. He got progressively more and more irritated throughout the ride.

They make it home and Matt doesn't even give you a glance, he immediately heads to his bedroom and makes it known by his silence he'd like to be left alone. Okay, drama queen. You thought.

You had to go see what was up, it was just in you. After the conversation you two barely had and the eye content you held, which you were pretty sure was a hallucination you pulled out of your ass, you were curious to see just how riled up he was. Or you could get him.

Chris and Nick get a call from their manager saying she's outside, picking them up so she could explain to Nick something that had to do with their merch. Apparently she already spoke about it to Matt, so it'd just be Chris and Nick going to their studio warehouse to see, since that's where all their merch first goes.When they leave, your thought process changes in a matter of seconds. Seeing how upset he is, you want to see how hard you could push his buttons.

You approach his room and knock 3 times. No answer is received, you raise your fist to knock a second time, and by the first knock the door is pulled half open, revealing Matt looking down at you, expecting you. "What?" He asks, his eyelids drooping as he looks at you blankly. He changed into gray sweatpants and a black T-shirt.

"Can I come lay down next to you? I barely got any sleep last night." You lightly fluttered your lashes at him, holding your phone with both your hands. Matt stares at you, inspecting just how tired you looked. You looked fine, but he still opened the door wide enough for you to enter, not saying anything.

You lay on his silk bed sheets. Silk. What a slut. He sits in front of his computer, and boots open a game, not bothering to acknowledge you here. You don't like that. After leaving yourself alone with your thoughts for a while today, the least thing you wanted was to be ignored. Especially by him. Even if it meant annoying him, you just wanted to have some sort of contact with him. Either verbally or physically, you don't mind a single bit.

You clear your throat. "Thanks, Matty." He grimaces at the nickname, used to hearing his family say to him, but not from you. "My legs have been hurting all day." You say, cuddling into his pillows, stretching hard enough to arch your back. A real yawn escapes your lips.

"You don't work out, don't play that dumb shit with me." He says, turning his head to look at you for a moment, before turning back to look at his monitor. "Who said anything about working out?" You tell him. He stops, completely forgetting what he was supposed to be looking at.

"I don't know, I guess my tattoo really does magical wonders for me." A smile slips through your lips as you turn the other direction, your back facing him as your shirt exposes the tattoo, your pants hanging dangerously low on your hips.

You can't see him, but you hear him turn, and you feel yourself getting excited. "Why'd you get it?" He asks and you turn your head softly to look at him. His question was simple, but the expression on his face certainly wasn't. "Why does anybody really get a tramp stamp, Matty?" You respond to his question with another one, and he is giving you a look of impatience.

"Just fucking answer me right now, sweetheart." His voice isn't loud, but his anger is. He practically huffs and you feel yourself getting immensely more attracted to his aggressiveness. You turn your head back to the other side, leaving him unanswered as he burns holes in the back of hair, knowing that would tick him off.

You hear shuffling and then the bed dips, and your heart literally does skip a beat. You swallow your built up spit down your throat as Matt grasps your jaw and makes you look at him, your eyes meeting his blue ones immediately. "Don't look away from me, y/n. Why'd you get that fucking tattoo?" He held your jaw firmly. He was on the bed rooted on his knees, looking down at you as you laid on his pillows.

Your smile somehow got wider, flashing him your white teeth as you slowly parted them to answer. "So you could fuck me." Your eyes were staring intensely at him but in a lazy manner.

Matt's eyes narrowed, darting between your eyes and your mouth. "You fucking whore." He muttered, his lips pressing onto yours so much faster than you could say the word 'whore' itself. Your eyes screwed itself shut and took the opportunity as fast as you could, kissing him back harsher.

He let go of the kiss too quickly, which only frustrated you. "You got that tattooed for me, baby?" He wonders, his voice is hoarse and breathy. You nod so fast your hold almost fell off, and as embarrassing as it was, it was true.

You had only 1 body since before the tattoo, and you barely even counted it. Constantly being around Matt but not knowing how to go about it made you more desperate. He did something to you no one had ever done. Sometimes you would feel yourself pulsing for him, imagining your fingers as his.

The reason why you had even begun considering a tramp stamp is because of the sick fantasies that they held, using Matt as its lead.

Recently you got laid, and it was underwhelming and disappointing. Your legs actually hurted because you did a few squats the day prior, not because the sex was good.

"You fucking liar." He was smiling but nothing in his tone was friendly, his eyebrows were furrowed but his grin was undeniable. You licked his mouth and he pressed against your lips. "I wouldn't lie to you, Matty." You moan into the kiss, feeling his hand trail down your body and to your waist. A hand was on the dip of your waist and the other was holding your jaw secure.

Your heart was quite literally out of its body now, his soft hand trailing to feel your bare skin under your shirt, grazing just the hill of your bare chest, purposely not touching your nipples. In a sudden movement, he cups your breast and your whimper is muffled under the kiss.

He has his knees caging both sides of your thigh, pressing his knee into you. He smirks as you gasp. "Lift your hips for me?" He pulls away, a small string of saliva connecting you two. You look straight at his eyes as you lift them, making sure he holds eye contact. And he does. He does as he curls his fingers along the strap of your pants and shoves them off.

"Let me see it." He orders. You grin, raising an eyebrow. "That could go for a lot of stuff." He grabs the side of your underwear and lets go of it, having it snap against your skin. "The tattoo. I want to see it." His voice is more demanding, more gruffly. Your pussy was soaked.

"No." You tell him all with a sly smile, you liked him aggressive and didn't mind seeing how far he'd go. In a sudden movement, you are flipped to your stomach, your hair is being gripped by his hand, pulling your head up as you feel his fingers tracing your tattoo. His fingers were too light. Too soft on your skin, you felt your back arch as he decided to balance the softness with a harsh slap on your ass.

Some hair was loose, out of his grip, resting on your back. The rest are being pulled closer to him, you feel his hot breath whisper in your ear. "You slut." A smirk spreads on your face, biting your bottom lip close enough to leave it bleeding. "You talk a lot." You tell him. He forces your shirt from off of you, leaving you just in your black lace panties.

You're still on your stomach, your bare chest pressing against his silk sheets. Your underwear is slipped off of you. Two fingers found their way to your pussy, sensitivity rubbing against it, your back arching your ass into his hard dick. "Fuck me already, Matt." You moan, knowing he's only touching you to get you overstimulated. He ignores what you're saying, responding to what's going on in his mind. "You look so beautiful. Bending yourself for me on my bed, begging for my cock."

His fingers rub against your folds, flipping your stomach inside out, pressing against your clit and your moan comes out louder than intended. "So wet for me." He licks his lips. Just as you were about to push yourself against his fingers, he let go abruptly. A huff leaves your lips and you whine. "Sorry, baby, you need something?" He mocks. You give him a noise of annoyance in response.

He grabs your ass hard, and to your surprise, you feel his tip at your entrance. You immediately clench around it and you hear him moan. He shoves himself inside of you and you practically scream, your whimpering gets louder each thrust he makes in and out of you. "You feel that, slut? Is this what you wanted?" He groans, not bothering to stop. You answer by pushing yourself onto him, fucking yourself to him.

You pushed your lips into your mouth, loving the sound of his moans and whimpers. Your head was pressed against his pillow, and he went faster, tears started prickling your eyes, shutting them. Your noises were getting more intense and a knot began forming in your stomach.

"I'm.. oh fuck–" Before you could even finish what you were saying, you release. Matt slows down, every push in is longer and slippery with your liquid, your pussy tightens around him and he mutters a quick "fuck" and pulls out, cumming all over you.

You turn to look at him. He looked back at you. There were many times you thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world, but now, seeing your hair a mess and its baby hairs sticking to your forehead, your lips sore and red from his aggressive kisses bare on his bed, he thought he was looking at a goddess. You glare at him, noticing he's been staring at a few seconds too long. "What?"

"I think I might need to see that tattoo one more time."

(idk how a tags list works)

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golden-cherry · 2 months

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deal - cl16 (25/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Having lunch with friends always leads to sharing information. And girl, those friends don't hold back.

Warnings: 18+ (mentions of smut), fluff, Kika is the bestest friend on this planet, mentions of Carlos and his girlfriend (yes, I consider this a trigger)

Word Count: 3.3k

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A/N: I just reached 2.6k followers and wow!! thank you so much!!! I love you! and this one is for you!!! feedback is appreciated.

Although it's only a few days until Christmas, the sun is shining so brightly that it's pleasantly warm as you and Kika leave the furniture store. As planned - but still with an uneasy feeling - you have left the almost overflowing shopping cart in front of the checkouts and while Charles pays for your "early Christmas present", you and your friend walk to the restaurant.

"I hope all this stuff fits in the car." Kika curls her mouth into a grin. "The mirror I wrote on the note - you know, the one they have to get from storage - is pretty big."

"I'd like to have your guts," you answer her. "Just picking out a huge mirror without knowing exactly whether it will fit anywhere in our apartment."

Kika grins and points to her brown eyes. "Eye measurement, baby. Those marbles are that big for a reason."

You have to stifle a laugh. "If you say so."

While the Portuguese woman plans where in your room she will place which decoration, your thoughts drift off.

It bothers you a little that Charles wants to spend so much money on you. And for no good reason. "I want you to feel comfortable" was his explanation, which is of course very courteous and loving of him. But you could have bought the things with your own money. At least a small part of it.

Would he expect a similarly expensive gift for Christmas now? If so, what could you get him? What do you give someone who already has everything?

"Are you mad at me?" Kika interrupts your flow of thoughts and grabs your elbow.

Confused, you turn to her. "What?"

"I - I don't know." When she stops, you're forced to stop too. "I didn't tell you that Charles is a famous Formula 1 driver. You - you confided in me about Raphael and I kept you in the dark about your roommate."

You exhale. "Kika..."

"I wasn't a good friend and I'm sorry about that. Charles had asked us all not to tell because he wanted to protect you and enjoy the time with you when he was just Charles to you. Even if it wasn't fair to you. I can understand if you're angry with me and-"

"I'm not angry with you," you interrupt her and smile at her. "You're Charles' friend first and foremost and I can't blame him or you for keeping his secret. It doesn't affect our friendship in the slightest."

"Promise?" Her tone sounds a little more pleased than it did a few moments ago.

You nod. "I promise."

She hooks back into you. "Thank goodness for that. I felt super bad because I couldn't tell you. But it wasn't my secret and it wasn't my place to tell you. And I'm really relieved that you see it the same way." She rests her head on your shoulder as you continue walking.

"So you're a model, huh?" you ask her.

She nods. "Yes. Well, I put a lot of effort into it and it's very tiring at times." Kika shrugs her shoulders. "But because of that - and Pierre, of course - I get to travel a lot and see great places. And I really appreciate that." She looks at you. "Now that you're unemployed -" You give her a dirty look. "Maybe you'd like to take my pictures sometime. And then I can post it on my Instagram and maybe other models will want to book you."

"You haven't seen any of my pictures yet," you reply with a laugh as she grabs your hand and jumps up and down. "Of course we can. We can try it out if you like."

Your friend looks around briefly before letting go of you and moving away from you. "How about now? I know you don't have your camera with you, but you can use my phone. The photos won't be as focused as with a real camera, but it should be enough to get you started."

She hands you her cell phone before standing opposite you against the wall of the house. You watch her uncertainly as she fixes her hair. "Are you sure about this? What if the boys are already waiting for us?"

"Let them." She pulls her black jeans up a little so that they sit loosely on her hips. "It won't take long. And I trust you. So here we go."

While Kika turns, repositions herself and smiles at the camera, you take as many pictures as you can. In between, you adjust her purple cardigan so that it sits in the middle of her narrow shoulders, tell her how her feet should be positioned to emphasize the curves of her body and even tousle her hair once so that a few strands fall loosely into her forehead.

When you look at the pictures after ten minutes and favor three of them, she looks curiously over your shoulder. "They look great. Really outfit of the day vibe." You hand the phone back to her. "I like this one. And this one. You've captured my butt well," she grins and puts the phone in her black handbag before hooking it back up to you. "And now let's go. I'm really hungry and I don't want to keep your tiramisu from you."

Oh well.

Charles' words - "Then lie down on the bed, mon amour. I'd like to see how you look on it" - haunt your mind and the images that appear in your head don't make the situation any easier.

For example, Charles kneeling between your legs and his gaze wandering hungrily over your body. How his hands rest on your thighs to open them a little wider so that he can lie comfortably on his stomach between them. How he slides his fingers under the hem of your panties to slowly pull them off your legs. And the way his mouth moves up from the soft skin of your thighs to where you want it to be. Need it to be. The way he opens his mouth and licks his tongue over his lips before closing the distance between you and -

"Watch out. You start drooling." When you give Kika a confused look, she pokes you in the side. "I didn't know you could daydream about tiramisu."

"I wasn't even thinking about tiramisu," you defend yourself, but Kika doesn't believe a word you say.

"Of course not." You could even hear her grin if you weren't looking at her. She lifts her hand and puts it to your cheek, playfully wiping the non-existent spit from the corner of your mouth. "I hate to repeat myself, but you're really not very good at lying."

You chew the inside of your cheek and look down at your sneakers. "Is it that obvious?"

"That you're totally into tiramisu? Hardly," she replies wryly, but puts her arm around your shoulder. "Let's be honest. A trained eye like mine can spot something like that, but if you're worried about the boys seeing it - you really don't need to worry. They wouldn't even recognize a dessert if you put it right in front of them."

"I just don't know what to do," you confess to her.

Kika purses her lips. "Would you be ready for tiramisu after everything that's happened?"

A question you don't know the answer to. After Raphael's betrayal, you had actually sworn off men for a long time for fear that something similar would happen to you again. You tried to build a wall around your heart, but Charles has broken it down piece by piece and now there is only him. He has spread inside you, in your head and in your heart, and you are hungry for him - a feeling that you have never felt for Raphael before. A feeling that takes you by surprise and overruns you like an avalanche and you are helplessly at its mercy.

"It's not the end of the world if you're ready for it," Kika assures you and her smile is genuine. "And when you're ready to give the tiramisu its real name, I'll be here if you want to talk about it."

You hug your friend tightly, causing her to let out a loud gasp. "Thank you, Kika. Really."

"You don't need to thank me. After all, I'm going to make full use of the mirror in your room soon and use you for your photography skills."

A few minutes later, you arrive at the small restaurant. As you enter through the glass door, you can already see the two men sitting at a table at the back. And Kika was right - apart from the four of you, the restaurant is deserted.

"Where have you been?" asks Pierre as you join them. While Kika sits down opposite her boyfriend, you take the empty seat next to her. "We've been waiting for ages."

"We had to stop for a moment because I wanted to take photos," Kika explains and shows them both one of the pictures you took of her.

Pierre grimaces in amazement. "Very good photos. I hope you tag her in them too."

Playfully indignant, she puts her hand to her cleavage. "Of course! What makes you think I wouldn't do that? It might even land her more photo shoots with other models." She leans in your direction. "But as long as I remain your favorite model, everything's fine."

"You are and always will be my favorite model, Kika," you reply and briefly lean your cheek against the top of her head before she sits up straight again.

While Kika and Pierre argue lovingly, you feel Charles pressing one of his legs against yours under the table. When you look at him, he smiles. "Everything okay?" he asks silently, tilting his head.

You nod. "Everything's perfect." You press your leg against his as well.

The risotto you ordered doesn't taste too bad, even if it is a little more fancy than your typical meals. The boys talk about their sport and you try to understand everything, but when the conversation eventually turns to engines, you stop listening.

You watch Charles as he talks energetically and passionately to his friend about his job, while the French mainly listens. He tries to explain things with his hands, waving them wildly in front of his face, and if you didn't know him, you'd think he was a bit out of his mind. But there is something twinkling in his eyes, a spark that shines brighter and brighter the longer he talks about Formula 1.

It makes him so attractive that you have to swallow.

"How are Carlos and his girlfriend doing?" Kika interjects into the conversation. "I saw on Instagram the other day that they went on a trip together."

You look from Kika to Charles. "Who is Carlos?"

"My teammate at Ferrari. The other driver," he explains briefly with a smile before turning to Kika. "I've seen that too. Santorini or something, wasn't it? It was definitely nice, but let's see how long it lasts."

You have to ask again. " How long will it last? That doesn't sound like you have much faith in the relationship."

Kika, who has taken a sip of her water, puts her glass back on the table. "Unfortunately, this has nothing to do with faith," she explains and takes her cell phone out of her bag. She taps on it a little until she hands it to you.

You see an Instagram page of a Becca, also a model, it seems. 27 years old, model at the Bijou Management agency. Her last post is actually from Santorini and alongside all the pictures of her lolling by the pool is one of her with a man. Carlossainz55 is tagged in the picture.

"When you're famous, it's harder to have a relationship," Pierre continues. "Not everyone is so lucky and falls in love with someone who is a good match for them. Sometimes rumors surface about people that aren't true, but still damage reputations. And to counteract this, some people go into relationships that put them in a good light."

You look around in confusion. "So it's a marketing strategy? So that people can sell themselves better?"

Charles nods. "These PR relationships are very conspicuous and usually easy to see through, but even then they distract from the actual rumor."

"And Carlos and Becca are in one of those PR relationships?" Your friends nod. "And what's the rumor that needs to be put to rest?"

Charles bites the inside of his cheek. "Carlos was with a young, super-nice woman for years. When they broke up, there was a rumor that he had a secret family and even a son. That this was the reason for the break-up. And that triggered a few conversations at Ferrari." He shrugs his shoulders. "And then they pulled Becca in for him."

You furrow your eyebrows. "Pulled her in? How do you find someone to willingly agree to a fake relationship like that?"

Kika catches your attention. "Some racing teams have a cooperation with certain modeling agencies for such cases. Which of course makes the whole thing even more conspicuous. But just think how much publicity the girlfriends get from it. It definitely doesn't hurt the modeling job."

"But you also have to understand that millions of euros are attached to a driver's reputation," Pierre explains. "Fans buy tickets to see their favorite driver. They buy merchandise like shirts, caps or whatever to show their loyalty. And loyalty is not exactly low. Ask Charles. One priest has his whole Instagram page dedicated to him."

As you look at your roommate, he can only nod. "That's true. Fans put their favorites on pedestals, praise them to the skies and would defend them to the bitter end. But a rumor that is so serious and has consequences like falling sales figures - anything is better than fans who refuse to support their favorites."

"And why do you think it won't be good for much longer?" Charles looks nervously around the room as if he doesn't know what to say, and his friends also avoid your gaze and your question. "Guys, I don't know these people. So, whatever you tell me - I can't do anything with the information anyway. Is there another woman?"

"It's not exactly another woman," Kika mumbles into her glass and all heads turn in her direction. "What is it? Like she's going to run to the nearest news agency and tell them that the Spanish Ferrari driver isn't exclusively into women."

You raise your hands placatingly. "In case it's not clear - of course I'll keep everything that's said around the table to myself. I'm not crazy and risking our friendship."

"I didn't expect anything else," Charles replies with a smile that could melt glaciers. "I couldn't bear it if we weren't friends anymore either."

As you look at him and mindlessly lick your lips, you feel Kika's elbow gently on your arm.

"What do you think? Do you fancy some tiramisu?"

Your gaze lingers on Charles and when he presses his leg a little harder against yours, your breath hitches. "I'm craving it."

And indeed. The tiramisu isn't as good as the one at the restaurant where you met Kika and Pierre, but it comes close. You try to look away from Charles, but every time you look at him, his eyes are already on you. Something that makes you even more nervous than it should.

When you get into the car a short time later, unnoticed, you glance briefly over the seats back into the trunk. "Where's the new bed?"

Charles straps himself in and has the seat belt fastened against his torso. "They'll deliver it between Christmas and New Year and set it up straight away. Then I won't have all the work and Pierre won't have to lug it around with me."

"For which I am very grateful," replies the Frenchman, steering the car through the streets of Monaco. "I don't even know how we're going to transport this mirror without breaking it. It was already barely possible to get it into the car."

"That sounds like a you-problem," grins Kika, looking at her boyfriend through the rear-view mirror. "You're the strong men. You'll find a solution while we get all the little things into the apartment. Right?"

The question is directed at you, but apart from a nod, she can't expect anything else in response. Charles's fingers are once again wrapped around your calf, his thumb gently stroking your warm skin and you can't think of anything else but the feeling of warmth that spreads through you from this small touch.

It takes a good hour for both the mirror and the rest to get to the upstairs in your apartment. After Pierre involuntarily teaches you several swear words in French and Kika decorates your entire windowsill with fake plants, they quickly make a run for it, worried that you're both going to take even more advantage of them than you already have.

"We've had a good day so far," you call out to Charles from the kitchen as you pour you both a glass of water each. You don't know where he is, but he will probably have heard you anyway.

"Definitely," comes his voice from the living room. As you follow it, you see Charles sitting on the large couch, his head back and his eyes closed. Only now do you notice how thick his neck is. Is it from all the training for Formula 1?

"Here." You hold his glass of water out to him and he opens his eyes to accept it. As you sit down, he takes a sip. You watch his Adam's apple bounce as he swallows.

"Thank you," he replies quietly and rests his arm on the back of the couch. A sign for you to lean against him, which you definitely don't refuse.

As you snuggle into his side and breathe in his unmistakable scent, you feel tiredness overtake you. "But it was exhausting."

""Mh-mhh."

"Thanks again. For my early Christmas present. Even though it wasn't necessary," you joke, but as rigid as Charles is sitting next to you, he doesn't seem to be in the mood for jokes. And as you follow his stare, the roses on the white piano come into your field of vision. The reason why you suggested the trip to the furniture store. And suddenly your tiredness is blown away.

"Do you happen to know anyone who has something like a fire bowl or something?" you ask your flatmate.

This question seems to break him out of his spell. His gaze wanders from the roses to you and he raises an eyebrow in confusion. "A fire bowl?" You nod. "Joris has a rooftop terrace and we've had bonfires there before in the summer." He licks his teeth once. "What do you need a fire bowl for? You're not thinking about sitting around a fire with sticks and marshmallows in winter, are you?"

"Not exactly," you reply and get up from the couch. As you look down at him, you hold out your hand. "Come on, mon joli. I have an idea."

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httpsghostie · 9 months

Text

Under one Roof pt 1

pt 2

OK finally IT'S HERE

smh I'm down bad for roommate ghost I am sobbing

my hand is literally burning I wrote this aT COLLEGE

and YES my love language is food pls dont come for me

Summary: you never knew you needed a military roommate until you've got one.

Word Count: 1k (sorry it's short

Warnings: roommate!ghost x female!reader, slightly suggestive (if you squint), mentions of trauma, fluff/comfort, no use of y/n

masterlist

Ghost was an old friend of a friend of yours, and he happened to be needing a place to stay for a while, that ended up being a few more months, and now it's currently been a year since he moved in. He doesn't plan on leaving, you know it, you know that despite the independent man that he is, he likes having someone to come home to.

He was cold at first, so cold. And for many nights you cursed yourself for letting that rock of a heart get into your sweet home. He wouldn't talk much when he was there, you'd almost forget he was around if it wasn't for random coughs or sneezes.

That man smoked like a chimney in the first days he's spent around, he was anxious and that wasn't very cute, he was always smelling like cigarettes, but thankfully he didn't smoke inside.

He appreciated your effort on cooking for the two of you, but you couldn't help it. How could he survive when he wasn't eating properly? Yes, frozen pizza is cool… until it's the third day in a row that you're eating frozen and instant food and you can barely stand.

He also had a fucked up sleeping schedule that you just went along with it, you once got scared when you walked in the kitchen and found him just laying on the wall, eyes closed and snoring slightly. That day you scolded him to go back to his room and made him lay down on the bed.

"You're gonna lay down on this bed and you're gonna have some nice hours of sleep, alright? I'm gonna leave the door open, if I see you awake I'm punching you." You sounded like a mother, almost, and he was so tired he couldn't fight back.

And the days went by, he'd go away, he'd come back as tired as he left. But at least he was slowly opening up to be a really cool guy. You two started to bond, and the more he talked, the more you wanted to spend time with him.

Oh and don't even get started on dad jokes, he's cracking them up whenever he's helping with house chores, or when you two are eating peacefully.

He became a friend, a very good friend, one that wouldn't mind you venting out to, plus he was a good listener. He'd just sit there listening to whatever haze your brain was going through, and slowly he learned that he shouldn't be giving you reasonable ways to solve your problems, he should just tell you it would be ok.

And you found yourself slowly falling for him. Of course destiny had to put you together. Only if it wasn't for the way he handled things around the house.

"Oh, the living room lamp broke? Let me fix it."

"Those boxes are heavy, hand them to me."

"Go find a movie for us to watch, I'll do the dishes. Find a good one, though."

"Goddamnit, I told you not to be climbing on that fucking balcony, you're not a cat, you're gonna hurt yourself one day." Said as he picked you up when you were trying to reach the top of the cabinet. "Just ask me, I can reach it without putting myself in danger."

Or maybe if it wasn't for the fact that he'd purposefully get out of the shower with that pretty little towel wrapped around his body, that made you clench your fists. The way he was still a bit wet, a few drops running down his abs. He was surprisingly cool with his scars around you, maybe because you didn't make a big deal out of it.

That's because it wasn't. You expected that when Gaz, your friend, told you that the friend he was sending to you was his 'work buddy'. And he phrased it exactly like that.

"Don't mind him, he's big and scary, but he'll be a good roommate, I promise, he's my work buddy." You chuckled when you read the text.

And yet Ghost didn't mind the stare of admiration coming from your burning gaze across the living room, when you thought the most ungodly things a brain has seen.

He started to become more and more warm, he found safe with you, like you could actually be his home. One night, he found a deep conection with you when you were casually drinking together, sat by the coffee table, playing video games.

She should know the truth about me.

He thought. And that was the night he dropped his heavy armor. He told you the bare surface of his past, even though most of it had been blocked from his memory, like a dark spot he couldn't remember, and would die without trying to take a peak at it.

You cried, and he couldn't understand why you were crying until you said it wasn't his fault.

"It's not your fault, you didn't deserve any of this." You sobbed, hugging him close.

He broke down. Like he needed someone to reassure him that he wasn't the villain from his past. He realized what you meant to him, and he swore to God he would try his best to come home to you when he had to work.

Some days were strange after that, like he regretted telling you about his story. He had that feeling in his gut that you weren't looking at him the same way, like you were pity. He didn't want your pity, he hated that look on your face.

But that changed.

He had come home one day, texting you while he was at the airport waiting for a ride. You ran to get groceries and make him a good meal, but the only thing that came to your mind was the old recipe of lasagna you kept from your grannie.

That old lady, always saving your life.

#cod mw2 #ghost cod #cod fanfic #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #ghost simon riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost #ghost call of duty

2K notes · View notes

lightwing-s · 2 months

Text

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐯 ; 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞

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

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.

. 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.”

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.

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.

“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.”

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.

tag list: @igotanidea ; @acornacreacure ; @amberpanda99; @erochuu ; @gone-batty-fics ; @jasontoddslover ; @jkvolgs ; @just-lost-inbetween-worlds ; @killxz ; @kysrion ; @loonymoonystuff ; @munimunni ; @novs9011 ; @spideytingley ; @starcrossedtrek ; @strawberryforks ; @sttrawberries ; @vanillaattack ; @veryfabday ; @vissavin ; @xxsweetnlowxx ; @willieoo ; @wordsfromshona

#jason todd au #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd #jason todd x you #jason todd fluff #jason todd x yn #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagines #jason todd blurb #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x female!reader

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russellsppttemplates · 4 months

Text

A little hope (Lando Norris) (Part 1)

Lando will give you all the time you need if it means you will work things out

Note: english is not my first language. I don't think I've ever written a piece without closure/closing off the subject like this, so constructive thoughts are appreciated... might do a part two depending on how this one goes, let me know your thoughts on it! ✨️

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions a couple's fight, self-deprecation moments, body image insecurity, signs and symptoms of anxiety

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Here, gorgeous", Lando said as he opened the door for you, letting you in first and following suit, finding your places around the table as the meeting was about to start.

"Thanks, love", you whispered as you set your things down on the table, turning on your laptop as you gathered everything you needed to show them.

"Whatever you want to do, we'll do", Lando noted a while into the meeting already. He didn't know that much about graphic design, so if his graphic designer said they should do it, they were going to.

The frown on your face, however, didn't seem to agree, "I spoke to the marketing guys, as well", you looked at Anna as she nodded, "and they think this is also the best strategy if we want to expand it to this market", you clarified.

"Then that's how it's going to go, Y/N", Callum asserted, noticing your slightly antsy posture as you moved on to the next point of discussion.

This had been happening for a while, the thoughts plaguing you with the fact that, in the simples of terms, you worked for your boyfriend. While the relationship had nothing to do with how you got the job and position, and inside the team, no one seemed too phased by it, part of you wondered if you were taken differently because of your relationship.

"Alright, Y/N?", Tara said, calling you back to planet Earth, "yes, sorry. But I agree with that, yes, but could we do this earlier, maybe this week? It would match up with all the dates we have", you answered, earning everyone's approval as they booked the shoot for Friday.

A knock on the door startled you as a woman peeked, "I'm sorry, I'm looking for Anna? From Marketing?", she asked, looking at you, "are you her?", she pointed her finger to you.

"She's my girlfriend, Y/N, she's our graphic designer", Lando said with a big smile.

"That's Anna", you said as the ginger haired girl raised her hand, "I'm Y/N", you murmured the last part.

The uneasiness took over your body again when you noticed the woman's look directed at you, a mixture of a silent scoff and a despised expression.

"Do you need a ride home, baby?", Lando asked once the meeting ended, "I have to go somewhere before going home, but thanks anyway", you said, kissing his lips chastely and bidding goodbye to everyone.

"Is she alright? She seemed off today", Max commented as he saw your interaction with his bestfriend, "this project had been taking a lot out of her, she's been tired, that's all", he said as he looked at your back as you walked away from them, "at least I hope it's that".

Only it really wasn't that, and with your calendar and Lando's calendar, you only saw eachother again on the day of the shoot.

The fight you had the day before still resonated with you and Lando, each of you measuring your words and how you had behaved.

"In Quadrant, you are my superior and I respect that", you pointed between you two, "but I'm my own person and if there's something I say, I want to be heard as me, Y/N, graphic designer for Quadrant", you cleared, "And in the meetings, if I give an idea, I want it to be heard and seen as coming from a graphic designer with experience and knowledge, not your girlfriend who you're afraid will get hurt if you say no and always let me get my way", you explained.

"But who said that I don't respect you like that? Because I do! I've considered every idea you've said like I'd consider them if somebody else said them!", Lando attempted, "do you think my love for you is not genuine? Do you think my appreciation for you or how much I value, as a person and as a member of the team, depends on what? What do you think this is?", Lando snapped, looking angrier than you've ever seen him. He usually kept a calm stance no matter how stressful the situation was, so the slight raise in his and his tone was enough to show he wasn't his usual self.

"Is it my fault you are my girlfriend? Are we putting this relationship, our relationship, in a basket of cons for us and for our lives?", he sounded genuinely hurt at his admission.

You didn't mean it that way, and you knew he knew that, but the fact that his mind went there and considered it enough for him to say it out loud hurt you.

Despite Tara's insistence that you could be one of the models for the hoodie she claimed was made for you, you declined the invitation, feeling that it would only add to your self deprecation and the very few comments you had seen online about how "dating Lando has landed you a great gig when so many people are looking for jobs themselves". You weren't also in the best terms with your boyfriend, and since he was modelling too, it would hardly be a good idea to be so close to eachother whilst still working in front of the team.

"We printed the backdrop you sent us, Y/N!", the photographer, James, and his colleague, Kai, called for you as you went to inspect the piece. It wasn't greatly detailed, but had certain points already measured so the editing and designing would be easier for you once you go the pictures back from them.

"I've never done it like this myself, but a friend of mine from university has done this before and he said it was so much easier and the models can move freely as long as they're within the frame", you explained, sharing knowledge in case they ever found themselves with a similar issue in need of this solution.

So absorbed in the conversation about different techniques and the words they had done before, you missed Lando arriving to the studio along with Max who had started making sure everything was running as scheduled.

"First, it's model two and three", you said as you looked at the schedule Max held, "so that's...", you trailed off, looking again in the list to make sure you were calling the right names, "Lucy and Lando", you stated, looking around for them and seeing the boy laugh at something she had said.

"Guys!", Max yelled, "it's your turn", he whistled, grabbing their attention so they could get in position.

James kept telling them what worked best as Kai worked with the lights, carefully readjusting and pointing out whenever they weren't on the frame you had specified.

"Now it's just the male models", Kai said as Lucy stepped down.

"I'm sorry to bother, but do you think we can bring out the snack table around now?", she questioned as she clipped her hair back, not wanting to mess with the work that was done on the short blonde locks, "I woke up later than I wanted and I had to rush here so I didn't have much for breakfast", she cringed.

"I think we can, yes. There's coffee in there, too, so I might join you", you smiled, walking alongside her to the table the catering team had set up. You were planning to spend the whole morning in there, so food and drinks were ordered to keep everyone happy and content.

"Rough night?", Lucy asked as she say you make a triple latte from the expresso machine.

That would be a way to put it, you thought. You hated leaving things unresolved with anyone, but knowing you and Lando went to sleep without knowing where you stood, it was hard for you to close your eyes and fall asleep despite the tiredness you felt. You rolled in your bed countless times, changing the pyjamas you were wearing three times until you accepted that the choice of clothing wasn't what was keeping you from falling asleep. In total, you probably slept four hours, and you were hoping the coffee would help with that.

"I remember when me and Lando used to go out, there was this week where it was four nights!", she smiled, stirring the hot tea in her cup as she took one of the small sandwiches.

"You and Lando used to go out? I didn't realise", you asked, the curiosity killing you and the dread to know the answer even more.

"I mean going out as in out of the house and into clubs, parties and such", she laughed brightly, and even that didn't seem to settle your heart, "we found out we have mutual friends that work for the same chain of clubs. We never slapped a label on it, I think neither of us wanted the attachment or rules you had to follow, you know? He's always wanted to be free on his endeavours and do as he pleases".

"Sure", you gulped, drinking the hot coffee as you thought about her words, not going to far, probably for your own good, since you heard something fall, "I better go see what that is, excuse me", you smiled lightly.

As it turned out, there was a piece of metal holding the backdrop that had a smaller piece holding it together that wasn't the right size, "we have to tools in there, let me just change it quickly", you said, "you guys can go and grab a coffee and some snacks, they're really good", you offered, "I'll sort out the programming for the next set while I'm at it, too".

Carrying the piece to the room where you kept the tools, you turned on your laptop and ran the code, fixing the metal piece in the mean time when you heard someone walk in the room, "was the coffee that bad? I- Oh, hi", you muttered, seeing Lando walk in and sit in front of you as you worked on the table.

"Can we talk, please?", Lando wondered. Even though he was clearly tired and his usual bright eyes had required the makeup artist to apply eye drops on him twice already, he still looked as handsome as ever. His curls was bouncy and the green coloured hoodie was a perfect match against his tanned skin and the minimal jewellery he had on.

"Sure", you asked, setting the screwdriver down and looking at him.

"I want to apoligise if I made you feel unworthy, professionally and personally. It was never my intention, Y/N. I want to be there for you, and I want to protect you and help make sure nothing bad happens, okay? I'd hate to be the reason you feel bad, baby.

"But I also need you to tell me what's wrong, because I know something is bothering you and I don't care who I have to call or what I have to do to help, but you need to tell me", he stated.

Your eyes started to feel tight and threatened to spill tears you were sure had been building up for more than a week, "I'm a confident woman, I know what I'm worth", you reasoned, "growing up left from what society thinks women should behave and look like, I've had to grow thick skin and be confident in what I do. It's not that you've had other partners or flings before, it's the way I'm being labelled as your girlfriend. Suddenly, I lost my name, my identity and I'm something to someone, that's what people see.

"I love you, and I love being with you. I've had so many opportunities that I wouldn't have had in other jobs and in other relationships, but I'm not sure losing who I am is a fair price to pay", you added. "I need to think this through. I'm not in the right state to argue this and risk saying something I don't mean and hurt you in the process. I don't want to hurt you, Lando, and I don't won't to be hurt either, I'm sorry", you sighed, looking into his colourful eyes.

"I love you, Y/N, so much", he said as he took a step forward, testing the waters and not getting resistance from you which led him to press his lips on your forehead, depositing a slow and soft kiss there, "I don't want to hurt you either, but... Think about it, okay? Really give it some thought because there's a way and we will find it", he attempted, realising it wasn't his place to tell you how you should feel about something and finding a common ground.

"Sorry to interrupt, guys, but we need your opinion on something, Y/N", Kai asked, sympathetically smiling as you excused yourself from the room and back to the studio area.

Lando went outside to cool off a little, thinking about your discussion and taking the opportunity that he wasn't needed inside for a while.

Had he been a pushover? Was that how you felt? You hadn't been yourself in the past two weeks, but he had put it down to the fact that you had been to the race with him and then Quadrant had this project that you wanted to see through from begging to end and it was on a tight schedule. You wouldn't be persuaded to take it easy, so Lando did his best to make sure you were as well as possible, but he seemed to have failed.

"I don't know how long it will be before they notice I'm gone and need help, so I'm advising you to spit it out while you can", Max jumped in, sitting on the floor and against the wall next to him.

"Just tired, didn't sleep well", Lando muttered. He didn't sleep at all, truth be told, images of your shattered expression kept replaying in his head as he tried to figure out what was happening to you two.

"I suggest you tell me the truth", Max squinted, "so, try again".

"Y/N and I have hit a rough patch? Our first big fight? I'm not sure", he admitted, "she isn't telling me much, but I think it's about the fact that she works for Quadrant, as in the company I, her boyfriend, own and something about treating her like and employee and not my girlfriend", Lando let out, starting to get worked up, "she tells me this, and I've kept my distance, and that's not been good either. Didn't she say that I should treat her like the employee she is?", Lando snapped as his body language showed another set of emotions.

"She is an employee, yes, and she deserves to be treated as such. But she's also the person you come home to, she was someone before she met you, she is a person outside of your relationship and you shouldn't meddle things. You know that dating you isn't easy and she's been getting the backhand of it", Max reasoned as Lando listened intently, "the social media team have been taking care of it, but there have been comments that are less than kind about her on Instagram, the email marketing too...! It's shitty, less than reasonable accusations, but it has been there... Y/N has never liked to be discredited, and I'm not saying you do it per se, but maybe it's where you should go first", he tapped his friend's back.

"She's not letting me in, how am I supposed to know?!", Lando got antsy again, feet tapping the ground incessantly as his breath got quicker and shallower as he struggled to focus a little.

"Is this rage you feel? Anger?", Max checked, handing Lando the ice-cold water bottle so he could focus on the temperature and not spiral out, "you're good, mate? What do you feel?".

"It's fear that I might lose her", Lando said as he allowed himself to cry, "I'm afraid of losing her because of something I did to her unintentionally. Because being my girlfriend is bad for her and I can't be selfish and tell her to be with me when she's suffering. Because I can't help that I'm proud of her and I won't to belt out how proud I am of her work and that I have her?", he let it all out.

"Have you thought about how it feels for her, though? Even for you, there are comments left and right about how you got to where you are, so imagine how it is for her", Max thought out loud, letting it all sink in.

By the time they came back to the studio, the models were gone and, by the looks of it, so were you as they tidied the place.

"Lando, Max", James called, "we're just finishing up and then we'll also get going. Y/N had to leave, she said something about her mother calling her and she needed to go. Didn't look life threateningly urgent, but she had to get going. Also- Lucy, I think her name was -, she left her number here for you", the photographer said, "she asked me to make sure I handed it to you", he smiled, "do you need mine too? I'm assuming it's for the contract payments?".

"Yes, there was a mishap with her contract, but we checked and yours are still there, no worries with that", Lando lied, impressed at his ability to come up with a half decent excuse.

Walking up to his car, Lando threw the card James gave him in one of the bins outside before getting in with Max, "let me just send this text, one minute".

To lovie ✨️

I'll give you all of the time that you need, but I'm not leaving this, I'm not leaving us. You're the love of my life and I'll wait as long as you need me to, so whenever you want to talk, I'm here, baby.

I love you to the moon and the stars 🤍

"I'll be damned if lose her, Max", Lando admitted, resting his elbows on the steering wheel and supporting his head on his hands.

"You two were made for eachother, Lando. You'll figure it out", his best friend comforted.

As he was reversing out of the parking space, his phone beeped with a notification.

From lovie ✨️

Thank you for letting me do that, I appreciate it more than words can say.

I love you to the planets and around the Milky Way.

For now, it brought a smile to his face, and a little hope. And he would hold on to that little hope.

Part 2

#lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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asstrolo · 5 months

Text

How Is Your Future Partner Like (Intuitive Reading)

midnights version!! Because I looooooove bluuuuue. This is an intuitive reading, meaning it's not based on tarot but on my own intuition and channeled messages. If this doesn't resonate with you it's ok, this is just for entertainment purpose.

pick a picture or a number very wisely because duh

pile 1 pile 2

pile 3 pile 4

pile one.

Hello pile one, for you I feel this strong sense of responsibility and duty towards your family or your job or studies and I can see you are a disciplined person or are used to taking care of things on your own. I know this should be about your partner but this is the vibe I'm getting from you right now. A lot of pressure for you for sure and you might be a romantic person that is too busy or too stressed to think of meeting people and stuff, you find social situations a little bit tedious too.

Your future partner might be somebody who is just as disciplined as you but they don't feel the overwhelming weight of disappointing people like you might feel. This is a person who takes care of their mental health as much as possible because they know that they won't be able to do a good job if they are stressed or tired, they are very responsible and might have been raised in a more laid-back household so they can allow themselves rest when is needed, or try to do the best for themselves mentally to be good at anything they have to be good at. Your future partner is someone who's charismatic but solitary, they try to present themselves as well put as they can because they like to show off and to look nice, this is someone who understands that looking good is an advantage. I see they're very ambitious and extremely individualistic, their sense of humor is very bizarre and they might do it on purpose to shock people or see what they'd do, this person is actually quite shy and doesn't like being surrounded with people for too long. When you two meet you'll probably won't like them, or feel a magnetic attraction to them that's almost inexplicable as you might think this person isn't your type, they will be attracted to you the second they see you. You two could be colleagues or friends or know each other but the relationship is never close until one day something just clicks. They will be fascinated by you and look up to you too, like they see a role model and a partner, they will feel very protective of you as well, you will feel very seen and appreciated by this person because they'll wanna listen to you and they rarely want to listen to people talk about themselves.

you or them might have these on their birtchart or synastry: Taurus Sun/Ascendant BIG Taurus energy so might be Taurus Stellium, 6th/7th house Synastry, Cancer Sun/Stellium, Water Moon, 11th house Stellium, Sun in 11th house, Aquarius Ascendant, Saturn-Venus Synastry, Venus in 10th house/11th house, Moon-Moon Synastry,

song:

pile two.

Hello pile two, for you I see you are an adventurous person, kind of always doing something, always thinking about a million things like your mind can't get any rest, you are very creative and love to talk about your creations. I know this should be about your partner but this is the vibe I'm getting from you right now. You really are restless in some way, hard time falling asleep and hard time focusing, if you feel something strongly you must do it, you also have a very good intuition and should work on it a little bit more, I feel like you've predicted things in your life people called you crazy for.

Your future partner is no fool, they're just like you. This is a person who is always plotting something and dealing with something, they're hard to get kind of people, is like they live in their own little world and are always looking for the next mental challenge. They probably were raised in a very controlling household or one that didn't approve of their ideas or condemned their kind of mentality, someone who has a difficult relationship with their family but keeps themselves occupied to not think of the hardships of their childhood, somebody who ran away or left their hometown, this is a person who's always been looking for more than what they've been taught and accepted the next challenge with open arms. This person is unusual in the sense they might like to wear baggy clothes or clothes that don't call much the attention, they don't take care of themselves as much aesthetically as they don't mind how they look to outside viewers but also it might be a statement to say "I don't care. I don't care about anything" when they do, they care about everything all the time and that's their ruin for them. They did NOT wanted a relationship when you two met, and might make you go through hard times or make you wait a lot until they confess their feelings, this person has a really hard time not rationalizing their emotions and you throw them off the edge. You are their soft spot, their weakness and they will find themselves, surprisingly, opening up to you like they never did with anybody, they might be just as intuitive as you and see something in you but it's harder for them to understand, you are a very special person and they see something very special in you.

you or them might have these on their birtchart or synastry: Virgo sun/Ascendant, 9th Stellium, Sagittarius Moon/Venus, Gemini Stellium/Ascendant, Venus-Uranus Synastry, Venus in 9th/3rd, Scorpio Sun/Ascendant, Water Ascendant, 11th Synastry, Big Air Stellium

song:

pile three

Hello pile three, for you I see a very explosive or impulsive personality, somebody who's not bending over anyone and who is very talkative, you have a child's heart and are a delight to be around, very extroverted for sure. I know this should be about your partner but this is the vibe I'm getting from you right now. You are unapologetic and know how to have fun, most of all you are a person that always tries to see the positive side of things and won't let bad things ruin your day or night for anything, is hard for you to fall asleep as is hard to wake up. You are also very loyal and compromise yourself to everything you seem worth of it.

Your future partner is someone more reserved and less impulsive, but that doesn't mean they're boring. This person is extremely attractive (hehe) and has a temper for sure, they are just more secretive about their movements and decide their next steps carefully. This is a person that doesn't take themselves as seriously as people think but likes to put in a show for people and likes to be seen as intimidating, they like being a more private person as they'd probably been raised or grew up in a household where their family was untrustworthy, could never take anything seriously or were very dramatic and self-centered. This person is very self-aware and also authoritative, they probably are the boss on their job or everybody trusts them to do things right. They like to wear winter clothes and dark colors, they give me Levi Ackerman vibes for some reason, somebody really intimidating but deep down doesn't give a damn. When you two meet this person is not immediately attracted to you or aren't even thinking of relationships, it's very probable you meet them when they're going through a breakup or a love disappoinment of some sort that makes them not want to engage with you, but you will like them almost immediately and try to get them no matter what. It'll work! Your perseverance and your obvious sexual attraction will make them fold for you sooner than later. I'm going to be honest, this feels like a friends with benefits kind of situation that progresses into a relationship, they will feel intrigued not for the sexual connection but the way you move and present yourself that makes them want to know you more which is not usual since they don't tend to go out of their way to meet people, they will be very impressed and feel like they never met someone like you and will become obsessed with your natural coolness and even the way you dress makes them like you even more. This person will adore you, they are very intense and can be kind of possessive of you as well, if you're into that kind of stuff.

you or them might have these on their birtchart or synastry: Aries Sun/Venus, Scorpio Venus, 8th Synastry, Leo Stellium, Pluto-Venus Synastry, Capricorn Sun/Ascendant, Sun/Venus in 10th house, Earth Mars, Mars-Venus Synastry, Libra Ascendant, 5th Synastry,

song:

pile four

Hello pile four, for you I see someone who's imagination makes them shy away from the world, a very sensitive and sensorial person and you are almost always sleep deprived for some reason you are definitely a night owl. I know this should be about your partner but this is the vibe I'm getting from you right now. You're a person who is used to bend and to give in, you don't like conflict and hate when people fight, your childhood could've been full of arguments and fights so that's why, now that you're older, you tend to give in even when you don't want to, you try to keep yourself busy to not think of sad things but you might be a pessimist at heart. You can be a person that sees themselves as "broken".

Your future partner is just as imaginative as you, but they express it wholeheartedly, they are free and have an almost childish mind, this person lives their truth every day and they hardly try to hide their personality, they might seem careless and immature but are very contemplative people and search for the answer of things always, they love to know and to read and to listen and to educate themselves. Somebody who likes to do well in everything and tries hard to prove themselves to people, this person might've grown up in a chaotic or closed off household that didn't always value knowledge but who's right and who isn't. They can get repetitive or very passionate about a topic, this person is very eccentric and loves to show off how much shit they know but not because they think they're better than someone but to make conversation and gain more knowledge from other people's perspective, they are pure at heart just like you are and can be dramatic or aloof but never mean and never to you. When you two meet the first one to fall will probably be you as you will love the way their mind works and how passionately they speak of their beliefs, you will feel immediately inspired by them but immediately feel left down, assuming they will never like you back. This person will be very shy in front of you all of a sudden and turn into a mess when you're around because they don't do romantic feelings very well, to be honest, your future partner will also feel like they aren't liked romantically by anyone because people might have told them they're weird or not good enough to be a partner, so they will too shy away. This relationship will not start immediately and might take a long time to develop until the both of you realize the other's feelings, and from then you'll try to go slowly but this relationship will feel so exciting it'd be difficult not to be happy about the future. This person will make your opinions valid and make you feel like you matter to someone unlike previous relationships, it will be a very cute and happy relationship for both of you, they will treat you like the most precious thing they know.

you or them might have these on their birtchart or synastry: Pisces Sun/Venus, Libra Stellium, 2th house Synastry, Aquarius Venus, Virgo Venus/Ascendant, Capricorn Stellium, Jupiter-Venus Synastry, Big Earth energy

song:

THAT'S ALL HOES! REBLOG!

#pick a card #pac reading #pick a pile #intuitive reading #intuitive pac #pick a card reading #astrology #love reading #Spotify

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withleeknow · 4 months

Text

remedy.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort; implies that minho has anxiety, unedited bc i am me and you shouldn't expect much from me lmao word count: 1.2k note: hello hello!! i've been meaning to write this since the day of the rock-star comeback but i'm only getting around to finishing it now lol. but the timing's pretty neat so consider this a christmas present from me and mine to you and yours!! <33

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

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when the sun rouses you awake in the morning, you feel two arms loosely wrapped around you that weren't there before you fell asleep last night.

you smile to yourself, enjoying the warmth and comfort that he brings you. home, finally.

you turn in his hold, as gently as you can to not disturb your slumbering minho.

you don’t know when exactly he got back, but it couldn’t have been more than a couple of hours ago. sometimes, when he has night schedules, he doesn’t usually return until the sun is peeking over the horizon. you’re used to him having to work throughout the wee hours of the night every other week. you don’t like it, but you’re used to it.

you expect to find him snoozing peacefully beside you, with his handsome face and his lips parted cutely as he lightly snores, but when you finally shuffle around to look at him, you instantly frown.

a frown that matches his own.

baby, you think, what’s wrong?

even in his sleep, minho’s brows are knitted together, the corners of his mouth tugged downward like he’s having a bad dream. the instant concern that rushes through you parts the hazy fog in your brain, and then... you remember.

it was only half past three in the morning when your phone buzzed to life, the vibrations resounding brassily against the wooden surface of your nightstand. reaching out blindly for the device, you only needed to peek through one eye to scan the time and the caller id before you held it to your ear, your face still smushed against your fluffy pillow.

"hmm?"

"i'm sorry," minho was quick to apologize. "did i wake you?" he sounded rushed, like he had wandered off to a corner to steal a few minutes for himself before having to go back.

you made a noncommittal noise, already feeling the exhaustion luring you back to dreamland. it had been a long week and you'd endured five whole days just to get to the weekend, to be able to spend hours on end with your boyfriend. it'd be just you and him, wrapped up together in your cozy little bubble, all your stresses and troubles kept at bay. he was always the best part of your days, your weeks, your months, even your years.

even though you were drifting, you still managed to ask, "is everything okay?"

"yeah, everything’s fine. i just missed you."

it made you smile nonetheless. he didn’t often disturb you in the middle of the night just to be sappy with you whenever he was stuck working odd hours, but it wasn’t necessarily anything out of the ordinary. minho could still be needy and clingy sometimes. it was one of the things that you loved most about him - that he could be a grumpy cat most of the time, but underneath that prickly exterior, he was just a big softie. you loved it even more that you were the only person who could bring out that side of him.

"missed you too," you mumbled. it didn’t sound at all lively, but you knew he could tell that you meant it.

you caught a sigh from his end before he continued. though this time, he let his defenses down when he spoke. his voice came out along with a tired exhale, laced with something that you would’ve been able to pick up on had your mind not been delirious with sleep. "wanna be there with you," he said in earnest. "want you to be here with me."

"when are you coming home?" you asked, even though the words came out a little garbled, your voice heavy with sleep.

"in a couple hours. i'll be home right after this."

"okay. we can-" cue a big yawn. "we can stay in bed as long as you want in the morning."

"yeah, that sounds nice."

"then i’ll see you in a bit, okay?"

he paused briefly before his next words came out a little unsteady, hesitant. the unease with which he spoke bypassed your unassuming radar completely. "can we just stay on the phone?"

"min-"

"you don't have to talk to me. just... stay with me for a while."

you think you might've passed out again after that, the subsequent silence and his breathing on the other end having lulled you back to sleep in a matter of seconds.

my love, it brings tears to your eyes just thinking about it, how could i have missed it?

you quietly move closer to him, shuffling inch by inch until you’re chest to chest, hoping his body could sense your warmth and be comforted by it, even just a little bit. you press a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, but even that simple touch stirs him awake even though minho is usually a deep sleeper.

his eyes slowly open, and you suppose the tug on your heartstrings loosens when the furrow between his brows eases as he takes in the sight of you.

he heaves a sigh of relief, and it’s like you can actually see some of the tension leaving his body as he pulls you to him, holding you against him so tightly that it’s impossible to move even if you wanted to.

"hi," you say, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, snuggling further into him until it’s hard to tell if the heartbeat you feel is yours or his.

"hi," he replies, his soft lips placing a greeting kiss on the top of your head.

"bad day?" night, but oh well. technicalities.

his answer comes muffled against your hair, though you feel the slight vibration of his chest when he mutters, "it wasn’t that bad. i was just a little overwhelmed."

"but it's better now?"

"much better, now that you’re here."

truthfully, you don’t really know what to say in moments like this. you want to be able to offer him reassuring words that could ease his nerves and calm his raging sea, but you’re not good with words. you never have been. you don’t think you ever will be, as much as you want to. for him.

it makes you feel guilty at times, not being able to give minho the peace he needs.

you do try though, to comfort him as much as you can.

"i love you," you say quietly. your arm wraps around him, your palm landing on his upper back where your fingers tenderly soothe the firm muscles you find. i'm sorry i wasn't there for you. i wish i have the right words to say to you.

"i could listen to you breathe and feel ten times better," he admits, putting some distance between your faces so he can look at you, as if it'll help emphasize his words. "i don’t even need you to do anything. i just need you. you’re more than enough for me."

his eyes bore into yours, glittering with nothing but a kind of sincerity that he never shows anyone but you. you kiss him then, soft and slow. you want to pour as much love into him as you possibly can. and even then you don't think it can amount to a fraction of what he deserves.

but nonetheless, you try. you try because he means the world to you.

i'll do better for you. let me share your burdens with you.

pulling away, you tell him, as your palm gently holds his cheek, a touch which he leans into instantaneously. "go back to sleep. i’ve got you."

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos

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carolmunson · 2 years

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it's your party and i'll cry if i want to (sadist!daddydom!eddie x f!masochist!reader)

warnings: smut, 18+, minors dni. sadism/masochism. established relationship. intense spanking with hands and implements. angst. hurt/comfort. daddy kink, some major daddy dom energy from eddie in this one. lots of fluff at the end. some yearning. mild threats. accidental bratting/all around bad attitude from reader. eddie calls reader a 'bitch' outside of a scene. mentions of being on period. name calling: 'stupid' 'bad girl', pet names 'baby, angel, honey, etc'. mild exhibitionism (continuing a scene when someone walks in), YES there is aftercare/communication. anything i might've forgot, i'll add later. i'm sorry!

---

Eddie checked his watch for the third time with an annoyed grunt, elongated and growing in volume as he saw the time. 10:45.

And that would be fine -- that is, if he hadn't asked you to be at his trailer by 10:00 AM.

And being this late would have also been fine if you had called him to let him know you were running late -- like you were supposed to. It was one of the rules he gave you that was the most important to him. Not that he needed to know where you were at all times, he was just always quick to jump to the worst case scenario. 'Oh, she's late? She died. She definitely died. She's bleeding out somewhere alone.'

It didn't help that Eddie's van was in the shop getting fixed up. Sure he could've done it himself but the guys wanted to do something nice for him after all the extra shifts he'd been taking. So lately, he'd been relying on you to get anywhere that wasn't his job.

He hates how you drive, it's the only thing he doesn't like about you.

A few more minutes pass and he hears the familiar crunch of tires over dried leaves, the sharp blaring of your car horn beeping to let him know you were there.

You never do that. You always get out and knock to say good morning, to give him a kiss, to tell him how cute he looks in his outfit. Eddie frowns and opens the screen door, patting his pockets to check for his wallet and keys before closing the main door behind him. He sees you in the driver's seat and can tell you're in a mood so he swallows whatever venom he had collecting on his tongue.

"Morning, sweet thing," he says softly, opening the passenger's side door, "You okay?"

You take the keys out of the ignition and toss them on the seat toward him, "I know you're gonna ask to drive so, here."

You huff when you unclick your seatbelt and get out of the car, grumbling something under your breath that Eddie can't quite make out. He has half a mind to catch you by the chin and ask you to speak up but he shakes out the thought -- he punished you last week, he didn't need to punish you again. At least not yet.

Eddie gets in the driver's seat while you ease into the passengers seat, putting your seatbelt on before he can ask you to. Even though he never wears a seatbelt, so you don't understand his incessant need to make sure you're wearing one.

After he pulls out of the park and onto the road, Eddie settles into the seat catching glances at you when he can.

"Why didn't you call?" he asked, he tried to keep it as light as possible.

"Woke up late, slipped my mind," you shrugged, looking out the window at the orange and bright red leaves.

"I know it might've been a rough morning but you're supposed to call, baby," he turns his head to you, putting a hand on your knee, "I don't appreciate being left in the dark, you know that."

"It's really not a big deal," you mumble, moving your knee out of his hand and keeping your gaze on the Indiana foliage.

"Okay..." he says to himself, putting the spare hand back on the wheel to meet the other.

The first stop on your day of errands before movie night at Eddie's trailer was to the shop so he could check out the van. He didn't mean to be such a stickler about it, but that really was his baby. You stayed in the car while he went in, watching him look back at you with a little wave before he got in the shop.

When he got back, your mood hadn't subsided. He took a deep breath when he opened the door and you greeted him with a "What did you take the whole thing apart and put it back together? That took forever."

"Sorry, babe, they just had a lot to run down with me," he explained apologetically, "Didn't mean to take so long."

"It's really gonna be so nice when it's done though, they redid the carpeting in the back and everything," he tittered, knee bouncing with excitement -- only to have his smile fall when you mumbled a quiet 'yeah whatever' to the window.

Next was the grocery store for snacks and food for the party. You both stepped through the automatic doors in tandem, the scent of cinnamon hitting your noses hard as they had already switched over the Halloween displays for Christmas displays.

"It's October 24th," Eddie laughed, "Are they kidding?"

You just look at the display and then at the aisles ahead of you, walking towards the candy and cookies aisle where you know he'd be headed first anyway.

Eddie shakes it off, something had to be wrong. Maybe you just weren't ready to talk about it yet. You do like having your space, afterall. He catches up next to you, offering his hand for you to hold it and then dropping it to his thigh when you shove your hands into your pockets of your jacket.

He swallows a lump building in his throat. Was it something I said? he thinks to himself.

You get to the junk food aisle, scanning the shelves together and he speaks again, "Thinking about going for a red theme -- I'm thinking vampire movies, stuff that gives off bloody and disgusting. Y'know? Stuff like that."

"Get whatever you want Ed, I literally don't care," you say breathily, defeat and annoyance dripping over the words. His whole body turns to you, less offended and angry, more hurt than anything else. You never just dismiss him like that.

"Hey, hey," he says, soft but surprised. He presses you into the bags of chips puffing past the shelving unit, taking your face gently in his hands, "What's goin' on with you, hm? Did I do something? Are you mad at me?"

"No, Ed," you try to pull your face out of his hands and move but he replaces them on your cheeks swiftly. Your cheeks are hot to the touch -- maybe you're sick?

"Are you tired? Hungry?" Ed pleaded, eyes searching for a glimmer of a happier you in your eyes. You were acting a little hangry, you always were so huffy when you didn't eat enough. He guessed maybe you didn't eat breakfast since you woke up so late -- that had to be it.

"Want me to grab you something here? Or I can grab you something at a drive-thru. Is that what you want?" he's practically begging for you to smile, desperate to see you nod and say sorry -- you're just hungry, you're just tired, you just need a kiss. God, he hadn't even gotten to kiss you yet today.

"Oh my god, Ed, stop -- I'm fine. You're being annoying," you half-whine while pushing past him, "Just get what you need to get so we can go, please."

Ed heaves a big sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose before closing his hand into a fist and leaning his forehead on it. You're in public, don't react the way you want to react right now. You just punished her a few days ago, keep your cool.

He opens his eyes and reaches for your keys attatched to his chain, deatching them and tossing them to you.

"Why don't you go wait for me in the car, okay? I won't be long in here," he offers. Maybe you just didn't feel like running errands, maybe you didn't want to go to the grocery store. You had told him once that the lights gave you a headache.

The late October air bites your cheeks when you step outside, savoring the heat in the car when you start it. Some time later, Eddie comes out, gocery bags in his hands that make him look like a Libra scale.

He knocks on the window, "Hey angel, can I get those keys for the trunk?"

You roll down the window just a crack and pass them through, satisfied by the exhausted sigh he lets out when you do it. His patience was starting to wear a little thin. Even more so when you kept changing the radio station so often that he just told you to shut it off and keep it off.

The next and most obvious stop was to Family Video to pick up the tapes for tonight. Eddie stopped for a second to talk to Steve at the counter, keeping his eye on you while you walked through the aisles and shelves of tapes. Robin came out of the back, so pleased to see you — Eddie watched your whole demeanor change. Smiley, happy, reaching out to hug her — toying with her new bracelet, giggling. His jaw clenched.

“You okay?” Steve asks, tapping his arm, “You look like you’re gonna kick Rob's ass.”

Eddie shakes his head to wash the attitude out of his face, “She’s just — she’s been in a mood all day. And all of a sudden Robin makes her happy? I mean, come on.”

“Ladies, am I right?” Steve rolls his eyes and looks over his shoulder at you and Robin. You’re reaching up to grab a case for Misery to read the back, your pinafore riding up and up while you reach. Eddie knows your body, the curve of your ass just hidden by the hem clinging to the fat just under it.

“Let me get it,” Eddie calls over before you put on a show for Family Video. His voice is sharp, making you freeze in place at first. Sinking slowly back onto your feet, you toss him a scowl while crossing your arms.

“I don’t want it anymore, it’s fine,” you mutter, disappearing behind another shelf. Eddie rolls his eyes with a huff, gesturing to you to Steve silently saying ‘See what I mean.’

"Someone's moody," Steve teases loud enough for you to hear.

"Oh my God," they hear you groan, hidden in the aisles.

"Guys, leave her alone," Robin chides, grabbing a box of rewound tapes off the counter, "Everyone's allowed a bad day, y'know?"

"I'm literally here," you snap, stomping out of the aisles, "Can you guys stop talking about me like I'm not here? For fuck's sake. "

"Hey," Eddie warns, his hand falling down on the counter. You close your eyes and let your breath out through your nose.

"Sorry, Rob," you frown, shoulders sulking. Robin shakes her head, making a face to imply that you didn't need to apologize, pulling you into a hug. You know what you're doing by not apologizing to Eddie or Steve, but you can't find yourself to care about the consequences.

Ed takes you by the hand to grab the movies for tonight, shielded by the sterile aisles and the smell of plastic. You hear Robin and Steve talk amongst themselves, the jingle of the bell as customers file in and out.

"Ah, the horror section," you mumble, completely deadpanned, "Never been here before."

Eddie stiffens, he doesn't feel bad anymore. Now he's angry. Now he thinks you're doing it on purpose.

"You wanna get whupped when we get home?" he asks sternly, "Keep it up."

He hopes the threat doesn't fall on deaf ears, but you aren't listening. You just cross your arms and burn holes into the back of his curly head while he picks two movies and tucks them under his leather clad arm.

He smiles at you when he turns around, squishing your cheeks between his finger and thumb, "Y'know, sucks that you have to be so mean 'cause you are awfully cute when you're in a little mood." He can play your game, too.

Ugh, fuck him. You roll your eyes and pull your chin out of his hand, you're like a woman posessed. This bad mood swarming through your body like sludge in your blood stream. You want to be happy, you want to be excited for movie night -- but you're just not. You wanna rip your skin off and scream in the aisles of Family Video. You wanna cause a scene.

At check out, the door opens and a hard gust of cold wind blows through the entry way. It wraps around your bare thighs and knee high socked calves -- you catch a little chill, a small shiver running through your shoulders.

"It's startin'a get too cold to wear these little dresses, baby," Eddie chastises while Steve scans the tapes and enters his employee number into the computer, "You're gonna get the flu."

"The flu's a virus, you can't get it from being cold," you huff, drumming your fingers on the counter. Eddie bites his tongue in his mouth, exchanging a look with Steve while he passes the money for the rentals over to him.

"Learn something new every day, don't we Harrington?" he asks, trying to keep you from bubbling over in front of your friends.

"That's basic high school biology Ed," you snap, venom stinging on your tongue, "No wonder it took you three fucking years to graduate."

"Woah, woah!" Steve's brow furrows, shaking his head, "Yellow flag. Not cool." Of course, a sports reference.

"It's fine," Eddie says quietly, his eyes cast downward, "We'll see you guys later."

He grabs the tapes with one hand and your sweatered bicep in the other, wrenching you out of the store to the car. He tosses the tapes in the back seat, peeling out of the parking lot with a screech.

You're silent on the road, not even the radio on to soften the tension, both fuming -- buzzing with anger. Eddie reaches for the cigarette tucked in his ear, hiding behind his long messy curls. It sits between his full lips, dangling while he searches for his lighter. You hear the flick and wait for him to take the first inhale, your teeth grind together so hard you swear he can hear it. Time, and time, and time again you had told him -- "Jesus Christ. Not in my fucking car, Ed."

You pluck the cigarette out of his mouth and toss it out the crack in your window.

Eddie slams on the breaks and you both jostle forward at the impact, the squeal of the tires echoing through the empty road. He turns to you with wild eyes, incredulous, "Are you on the fucking rag or something?!"

You don't respond, instead you cross your arms tighter around your chest and look out the window. You avoid his angry look, your heart pounding, knowing his is too.

"We're going home," he mutters, pulling a u-turn and heading toward the backroads that lead to the trailer park.

"No, no, you still wanted to stop at Melvald's for paper plates, and decorations," you offer quietly.

"Well maybe if you'd been such a bitch, I would've gotten to run all my errands," he explains, frustration bubbling in his chest. He swallows the lump building in his throat again. He didn't mean to call you a bitch, he's never called you that outside of play. But fuck did you have to bring up how hard it was for him to graduate?

"We can still," your voice lilts, going up an octave, "It doesn't have to be ruined."

"We are going home," he says with finality, eyes glued to the road. You can beg with your soft voice all you want, he's had enough today.

The both of you continue the ride back to Eddie's trailer in silence, just his and your shuddering breaths breaking through every now and again. You knew what you were in for when you got in the door, and part of you knew you deserved it -- but another part thought maybe, if you were sweet enough, he'd change his mind.

He pulls in with a quick turn, tires skidding in the dead grass wet with frost. You roll up your window and open the door, watching as Eddie reaches back to get the tapes out of the back. You step lightly to the trunk, waiting for him to come around with the key so you can bring in the groceries.

"Oh, you wanna be helpful now?" his voice is bitter, "You're a brat all day and now that you're in trouble you wanna be nice?"

You pout, just a little. Watching his hands as he unlocks the trunk and it eases open. As you reach for the grocery bags he swats them away, "I got it."

"Fine," you sneer, marching toward the door, "You got it."

"Oh-ho-ho, you just wait darlin'," he smiles while he slams the trunk closed, but it's the smile he does when he can't contain himself. When his hands are vibrating. When he wants to yell but can only laugh. Bar fights at The Hideout, blow out arguments with Wayne, when the gas station clerk calls him a freak.

Now it was you.

He walks past you, groceries and tapes in hand, fishing out his keys to open the door -- the door squeaking open. The sound of it mocks you because you know what's to come when it clicks closed.

Eddie puts the bags down on the table in the kitchenette, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it on one of the chairs. You stand by the closed door, the leather of the belt hanging next to the door frame taunting you.

Eddie takes his time to put the groceries away, leaving out the chips and other snacks he picked up. He'd put them in bowls later for the set up. Fuck. He does have bowls or paper plates -- you didn't go to the store.

You watch him go to the phone on the wall in the kitchen, dialing without looking -- you can hear Steve's cheery voice on the other end. "What's up, Ed?"

"How did you know it was me?"

"You're the only person who calls me on my car phone."

"Okay, whatever. Sorry to ask this, but we didn't get a chance to go to Melvald's. Would you be able to pick some stuff up for me?" he asks while keeping eye contact with you. Now you feel bad. Eddie liked hosting movie night, he liked putting up decorations and making it feel like a party. It was something he looked forward to every month when it was his turn and his were always so fun that everyone ended up sleeping over. Now it felt ruined because you just couldn't stop. You couldn't let him have his day.

Eddie says his thank you's when he's done asking for Steve's help and hangs up the phone. He motions you over when he takes the few steps into the living room, sitting on the couch with a groan. You follow solemnly, standing across the room from him.

"Didn't I just have to punish you last week?" he asks while inching forward on the cushions, legs spread wide in front of him, "I mean, jesus baby girl, you're really just askin' to get whupped these days."

Daddy's home. Eddie always ended up adopting a mix of his co-worker's Hoosier accent and Wayne's slight southern drawl when he stepped into that role. Always coming out when maybe you needed to really learn a lesson. Whenever the brat came out to play without him asking for it.

It was your least favorite game -- not because you didn't like it necessarily, but Eddie relied heavily on making sure you were embarrassed. He wasn't mean. He was mocking. He liked how it made you feel, he liked how you turned red when he called you his baby. How your stomach turned when he put you over his lap. So rudimentary, but deeply effective. Somehow, getting spanked by his hand like this hurt more than anything else.

"C'mere," he says, waving you forward, "Come to daddy."

Your heart sinks and flutters simultaneously -- suddenly it's unbearibly hot in his trailer despite the light frost on the ground outside and your bare knees under your corduroy pinafore.

"Ed...c'mon, people are coming over," you say quietly, toying with the hem of your dress, "Can't you punish me later?"

"After you ran that mouth all day? After you showed up here late this mornin' and didn't even call? You broke all my rules," he scolded, "Get over my lap, sweet thing, gotta teach you."

"Please," you whisper, your glassy eyes meeting his, "I'll be good the rest of the night, I promise."

"That gives you way too much leeway. You'll start thinkin' you can get away with everything. You know what they say: spare the rod, spoil the child," he shrugs, "And you're so spoiled as it is. Aren’t you, baby?"

You nod, shifting your weight on your feet. Your skin crawls at the lilt in his voice; you can feel him getting impatient with you.

"So why doesn’t my spoiled little thing come over here and take her punishment, hm?"

You know if you don’t go over there, he’ll make you. His demeanor is so different when he’s like this, so sweet — cooing at you, gentleness even when he’s talking down to you. A soothing balm to help make you feel small, stupid, and needy. Like you can’t do anything without his guidance. He plucks at your emotional set backs as nimbly and expertly as he does his guitar.

“No, I think that’s too hard for you, baby. I'll figure it out.”

“Was that too difficult for you to understand? Why don't we try again.”

“I think you need a break, why don't you let Daddy take care of everything?"

"Let daddy do it for you. You need to learn when to ask for help when you need it."

"We can talk about it when you're not acting like such a little brat, okay?"

You inch over and slide over his lap and even though you know it’ll hurt, it’s so comfortable to let go for him. To let him teach you a lesson. To let it out on the couch cushions in the form of fat tears and whines and screams. Kicking your legs and squirming.

“There’s my good girl,” he murmurs while you get situation on top of him. eddie let’s a warm hand slide over your thigh before pushing your dress up over your hips to your waist, "Knew she was still in there."

Ed takes a moment to admire the softened bruises on your ass when he gathers your panties at the base of it, finally in their last stage of healing from last week's play time. Maybe he could afford to go harder than he expected. Excellent news for him, awful news for you.

“You don’t have to count out loud to me today, angel. Don't think you can count that high,” he teases, calloused hand smoothing over your ass before coming down hard over it with a loud smack ringing in the living room of the trailer.

“Ah-ow!” you yelp, his over the knee spankings just hurt a little bit more than anything else. Maybe it was the embarrassment of the position, the way he played with your mind a little before hand. Something about the crack of his palm against you when you felt dizzy like this was a different type of pain.

What a shame that you loved it so much.

“You know you deserve this, baby,” he says softly, “I don’t like to punish you, but I gotta keep you in line. You really embarrassed me today.”

“M'sorry, daddy,” you frown into the couch, hips jumping at the next strike. A warm little buzz forming on your backside while he continues.

"Are you?" he asks, his hand smacking especially hard against the swell of your ass. The first choke of a sob escapes your chest and he hums with satisfaction, "You don't sound sorry."

"I think daddy's gonna make you very sorry, though," he threats. Eddie takes his time switches his rings over to the hand he's using to spank you, knowing it just adds injury to even more injury. He smiles to himself when you squirm at the feeling of the metal skating across your warm skin.

"Don't like that?" he asks. You shake your head no and he 'tsks' above you, letting his fingers slide between your legs, "You sure?"

"Mmm," is all you can reply, feeling hazy and spacey under his touch. Your stomach tightens at his finger tips grazing your folds, presing slightly to get between them, a pool of slick welcoming them immediately.

"I think you do like that," he whispers headily. Eddie takes his fingers away, eliciting a wanting whimper from you, his chuckle was daunting.

His hand smacks upward and downward on one cheek, then the other, in a consistent rhythm. One, two, three, four, one, two, three four. Hard, sweeping spanks making a bloom of color spread over your skin more and more as he went. He does this for who knows how many minutes, as many as it takes for your legs to start kicking. For the color in your skin to fall to an angry crimson.

"Here we go with the dramatics," Eddie tutts, catching your ankles with his free hand, "What might happen if you don't stay still?"

You rack your brain and he isn't patient, raining down smacks in quick succession on your left butt cheek and then your right. The skin burning underneath his hand.

It comes to you hazily, what he says over and over again when you move around too much -- too many spots that could cause damage if he hits them instead, "I could get hurt," you whine out.

"Good girl," he coos, "Look at you, trying your best to remember -- my stupid little thing."

You can't help but pout at the dig, pouting more when his hand starts up their symphony again.

"Daddy, please," you cry, your hand reaching out to cover your ass, "Please no more."

"Excuse me," he hisses, spare hand now coming up to press your wrist against your back, "You earned this. Be a big girl and take it."

Your face burns when he admonishes you, embarrassment washing over your body. You can't help but struggle against him but he pulls you tight in place, steadying you before he starts again, "Behave."

You can feel Eddie's erection building against your hip, your mouth filling with spit at the thought of it. Maybe he'll fuck you if you just let him get through this part, he usually does. You're still playing afterall, this is just punishment -- you earned this.

Eddie continues, grunting with each stinging hit, as much force as he can into it. His tongue swells in his mouth when it watches the fat of your hips and ass bounce back at his assault. This was a show exclusively for him, the best part about impact play. You know, outside of the crying, and whimpering, and your shining wet pussy between your legs. And the power, fuck. Don't even get him started on the high of all that power and control.

Tears are streaming down your face, mixing with the strings of snot oozing from your nose. You look a mess, just like he wanted and just like he knew you would.

His smacks slow down to one every few seconds, like the end of a popcorn bag in the microwave, before smoothing his hand over your vibrating flesh.

"That was a good warm up, huh?" he asks. Your face pales.

"Wh-what?" you sob out, looking back at him. He smiles, his wolfish 'Master' smile, devilish.

"That was a good warm up, wasn't it angel?" he coos, nails softly grazing your thighs, making you hiss.

"Warm up?" you ask, eyes shining and round. He maneuvers you off his lap, steadying you while your jellied legs find some footing.

"You thought you were gettin' off that easy?" he asks, in that same soft voice, "That's cute."

You pout but it doesn't help, he pushes back on the couch and crosses his legs. Eddie's looking up at you but it still feels like he's looking down.

"Go get the paddle, baby," he instructs, "You know which one."

You swallow hard, shoulders shaking, "But why?"

"Because I said so," he says it like you're stupid. You feel stupid. You feel small.

You trudge to the bedroom and back to the livingroom with the paddle in hand: wooden and carved with holes. Beyond pain on it's own, extra painful with a warm up.

You reluctantly pass it to him and feel sick at how fucking hot it looks in his hand. With a sniffle and bite of your lower lip, you lay back down across his lap, bending at the waist, your toes meeting the floor in your socked feet.

He adjusts your underwear, pulling them back up to cover you, the elastic scratching uncomfortably on you, "How about we keep these on for this part? Does that sound good?"

"Yes," you shudder out, even though it doesn't make a difference. The cotton is so thin.

"What do you say?" he asks, sliding the paddle across your thighs.

"Thank you, daddy," you mumble into the cushion.

"What was that?" he asks, "Gotta speak up."

You know he heard you, he just wants to hear you say it again.

"Thank you, daddy," you say more clearly.

"Still can't hear you," it comes out like a song and the paddle comes sound with a loud SMACK across your thighs.

"THANK YOU, DADDY," you cry out, tears springing from your eyes. The air gets trapped in your throat, sputtering while you try to steady your breath. He gives you a moment to collect yourself, extra careful to check if you're too far gone to know how to tell him to stop.

"We're gonna do twenty, okay?" he asks, "Think you can do that?"

"Yes, sir," you sniffle out, head hanging.

"Twenty's good right?" he asks, you nod, "How come?"

"S'what I d-deserve," you say to him without thinking, fully obedient now.

"Smart girl," he coos, placing the paddle next to him so he can slide a finger into your panties, "Very smart girl."

"P-please," you whisper into the couch cushion, you pray he doesn't hear it but you also wish he would. You hear his pleased hum when his finger tip meets your soaked opening again, pushing further into you. He pumps it into you lazily, enough to watch your hips writhe in time against him -- but it's just not enough.

You know better than to ask for more, not letting more than a disappointed whimper out of your mouth when he takes it away.

“Maybe later, yeah?” he asks, voice mocking your wanton whines, “If you’re a good girl?”

You simply nod, bracing yourself when you hear him pick up the paddle again. Down it comes without warning, knocking the wind out of you once again. The pain shoots down your legs and up your back in in a shivering sting. You cry loudly, blubbering inconsolably into your forearms resting on the couch. This is what he wanted to hear. Thank god the windows were closed.

"Want you to think about this --" He grunts when he brings the paddle down again, "-- when you think about running that mouth to me."

He waits for the pain to almost stop reverberating in your body to bring down the next blow. Eddie never let you take a full breath between blows when you needed to learn something.

"When your in one of these moods you--" the next strike of the paddle elicits a near scream out of you, racked with tears, "-- talk to me about it before you start gettin' mean. You hear me?"

"Y-yes-s-s-s," you sob.

"Are you sorry?" he asks, the next strike is over your thighs.

"I'm sorry!" you yelp before falling back into shuddering cries, "So so sorry, I'm sorry."

He continues on without reprieve: 6, 9, 12, 14 -- or was it 13? -- you're not even counting -- you're not sure if you can count at this point. Your eyes have gone glassy, you're crying so hard that you're drooling.

The sound of a knock at the door takes you out of your haze for a moment but you don't feel Eddie's body tense, he just calls out, "It's open!"

You hear the door open and immediately reach for the hem of your dress to push it down, but Eddie's mean laugh and swat of his hand puts you back in place.

"Hey, they didn't have pumpkin paper plates but they had ghosts and I thought maybe that would be f-- oh," Steve stops with the plates in his hand, looking you both over, eyes lingering briefly on your reddened ass and thighs.

"Sorry to interrupt."

"You're fine," Eddie rolls his eyes, "You can put it all on the counter. Thanks so much, man. Let me know what I owe you."

Steve shakes his head with a little laugh, leaving the bags on the counter full of plates, napkins, and decorations. Listening to you whimper in the other room. Steve had been plenty privy to whatever you and Ed were getting up to. All of the older group was. The first time you showed up to a group hang with bruises was when you both had to come clean immediately -- there were hardly any secrets between the five of you anyway.

Plus, Steve liked learning new things.

Eddie doesn't mind the audience, bringing the paddle down again with new vigor. You try desperate to hold in the cry in your chest but it breaks when he speaks to you.

"What baby, you embarrassed?" Eddie coos, "You didn't have a problem embarrassing me in front of Steve earlier. Just returning the favor."

"You wanna tell him why you're gettin' punished?" he asks, one hand smoothing over your back while the other brings the paddle down again. You shake your head no, embarrassment washing over you in heavy waves knowing Steve is watching you get punished like a school girl.

"I think you should," Eddie continues, "Think it'll help the lesson sink in."

You know you don't have a choice, so you lift your head up mumbling weakly, "Because I was a bad girl."

"Little louder so Steve can hear," he encourages.

"Because I was a bad girl," you repeat. Your face was fuming with a deep blush.

"There we go," Eddie soothes to you quietly, "I think you had enough, sweet thing. Why don't you go wait for me in our room?"

You swallow, ignoring the shooting pain in your backside while you scramble off his lap and down into the hall to the bedroom.

Eddie turns towards Steve while you scurry away, "At least she's self aware."

"At least." Steve agrees, cheeks reddening, "Look I gotta go pick up Elaine, her sister took the car so she can't get over here. I'll probably be around when everyone else shows up though."

"So she's finally her real name and not just 'some girl'?" Ed asks, surprised.

Steve blushes, "Yeah I think she's gonna stick around for a while. She's been um -- really receptive to some new stuff we've been tryin' out."

"Well you're learning from the best, so," Eddie cockily meets his cheek to his shoulder.

"Pfft, okay," Steve rolls his eyes while he walks toward the door, swinging his keys on his fingers, "See you in a little."

Eddie watches him leave, stretching on the couch before getting up and walking slowly over to the bedroom. He slowly opens the door, listening for anything beyond your regular cry or whimper.

"Baby?" he asks, his voice back to normal. There you are on his bed, already in a pair of his sweat pants and a t-shirt. Your pinafore and sweater and socks folded neatly on the end of the mattress. Your makeup stianed face wiped clean with the cold cream and clean face cloths you kept on his dresser.

"Oh, baby," he frowned, "You look so sad."

"I'm sorry," you said, your shoulders curving inward in a sulk, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to take everything out on you today."

"I know," Eddie shuts the door behind him, just in case anyone showed up earlier than expected. He walked over to the bed, barely getting onto it all the way before you found your way onto his lap. Your tear stained face in his neck.

"Do you feel better?" he asked, rubbing circles onto your back and pressing a kiss onto your shoulder. You nod against him.

"I'm sorry," you repeat.

"It's okay," he coos, "I'm sorry, too."

You lean back to look at him and he looks at you with a smile, his big doe eyes warm and crinkling at the ends.

“I love you,” his voice is cozy. Medicine for you bad mood.

“I love you, too,” you respond, leaning in slow while you rest a hand in his cheek. Your lips find home against his and you hear him sigh with relief into it. He deeply reciprocates, mouth desperately meeting yours, hands resting softly in your hair.

“Haven’t gotten to kiss you all day,” he whispers. His next kiss is feverish and needy, pulling you close to him, pressed against his chest.

“I know, I’m sorry. I wanted to, I just…I don’t know,” you explained between breaths.

“S’okay,” he says, leaning back a bit to look in your eyes, “Can we talk about that?”

“Yeah,” you nod, sitting further back on his thighs.

“When we play, or when you make me upset, or if I’m feeling sad or angry - I don’t ignore you, right? I don’t deny you what you want or need unless it’s part of a scene? And even then you can always ask to stop?” he looks hurt when he asks, his hand finding your thigh, giving it a little squeeze.

“No, you always listen. You always communicate,” you say.

“So you have to offer me the same kindness, baby,” he strokes your cheek, “You really hurt my feelings today."

Your eyes water, chest aching, "I know, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up high school or -- or act like I didn't care about t-tonight, or your c-car. I do care."

"Shh, shh, shh, I know. I know," he soothes, "But when something's bothering you, even if you don't know what it is -- I need you to communicate that to me. So I can try to help."

This isn't the first time you've had to have this conversation and he can see the defeat in your face.

"We're both learning," he says, pressing a peck to your lips and then your forehead, "We'll do it together."

You nod, resting into his soft hands that have now found your cheeks again.

"And I'm sorry I called you a bitch in the car," Eddie says and you know he means it, "I'll never call you that again."

"I mean, you will," you giggle softly. He melts at the sound.

"I will, but in a different context," he giggles with you, another kiss to your lips, "In the way that you like."

You match his posture, putting your hands on his face, pulling him close to you. Another kiss, slow and sensual, pillowy lips capturing eachother's with anticipation for whatever might come later. Clicks of spit exchanging and tongues dancing floating through the room like music -- their own language.

"I love you," he whispers, his forehead pressed against yours.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," he repeats. He needs you to know after scenes like that, where you're more vulnerable than normal. A real punishment that might make you forget.

At the same right, he needs you to say it back -- and when you do, he sees stars.

"Let me get you patched up, yeah?" he asks. You nod, laying down on the mattress to let him comfort you after such an assault. Feeling much better now that you had a sore ass and a good talk.

After the normal routine of aloe gel and a massage, you let Eddie get the trailer together for movie night while you took a break in the bedroom. Sometimes you needed a little time alone after a scene before you had to go be around people. Plus, he liked decorating by himself.

You can hear people start trickling in: Steve and his lady, Dustin, Robin, Mike, Nancy, their voices tittering their hellos while the screen door swings. You make your way out, padding down the hall in your socks.

"Hi," you croak out, your voice still scratcy from earlier. Eddie comes over to re-welcome you to the real world, leaving a kiss on your cheek.

Dustin looks at you quizically, "Are you okay? You look sad for movie night."

You shrug, about to speak when Eddie butts in, "She'll be alright, Henderson. She just got in a nasty fight with her dad."

You hear Steve snort in the kitchen and roll your eyes before you smile back at Dustin, "I'm okay, thank you for asking."

Eddie fixes you a plate of snacks while you fix him one. Somehow you still haven't realized that you should just get them for yourselves, but there's something sweet about the neutral need to always be caring for each other.

"More sour straws, you're lacking here Munson," you say at the exchange of plates.

"So true," he agrees, turning back around. The rest of the crew walks in, Lucas making a joke that Steve laughs at -- another snort coming out of his nose.

"You sound like a pig Steve," his flavor of the month Elaine laughs. You watch him smile at her, his eyes a little hard, and subtly reach for her chin. He leans in like he's about to kiss her, but before he does he offers a stern, "Watch your mouth."

Her face blooms with heat when their lips meet and you nudge Eddie in the arm, "What're you teaching him, Ed? He's a nice boy."

Eddie tosses you a sly smirk, "He's not as nice as he looks. I promise."

You take your plate from him, sour straws at the right amount, and take your place on the couch. He plops down next to you while everyone gathers in the living room around the TV.

"Day of the Dead, y'all. Let's get into it," Eddie says. He lifts the remote and presses play, turning out the lights at the switch behind your head. His hand falls to your opposite shoulder, rubbing it absentmindedly while the movie begins.

Your eyes meet breifly in the glow of the TV. He offers you a wink before spreading his lips into his regular award winning smile.

#eddie munson x you #sadist!eddie munson #sadist!eddie #eddie munson x reader #dom eddie munson #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie x y/n #stranger things smut #eddie munson au #mean!eddie munson #dark!eddie munson

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kaleldobrev · 5 months

Text

Hauled Up

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sam recruits you to try and convince Dean to stop hauling up in his room

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Cursing (1x), Mutual pining & Fluff

Authors Note: Takes place in season 14 | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

As you were watching some Netflix, there was a hefty knock on your bedroom door. You had hoped that it was Dean who was knocking as you hadn't seen him in pretty much a few weeks since he had gotten back, but you knew that was a long shot. "Come in!" You called out, pausing the program that you were watching.

About two seconds later, Sam appeared, and he looked insanely drained and tired; something that's been pretty much normal for him over the last few weeks. Between helping the hunters who had come from the Apocalypse World and trying to find any information on where Dean/Michael could have been. Thankfully with Dean back, the only thing really draining him now was making sure the "newbies" knew how to handle certain cases on their own or through team-ups.

"Hey, can you do me a favor?" Sam asked, his voice sounding a little hesitant.

"Sure, what is it?" You asked. It could be a numerous amount of things as while Dean was gone, you had became Sam's right hand, assisting him with the other hunters. You were either helping to find cases, going on team-ups, cooking giant meals for everyone that could last days, or bandaging people up when they came back from a hunt.

"I need you to try and get Dean out from his room. He's been hauled up there for weeks. It's not good for him," Sam said, sighing a little.

"I think he just wants to be alone Sam. I mean, I don't really blame him. He was gone for weeks, and then when he came back, he came back to a place full of people that he doesn't know, not just us," you stated. You couldn't imagine what Dean went through while Michael was possessing him doing God Know's What. As much as you didn't mind having the other hunter's here, you knew that with these other hunters here, Dean couldn't really be himself even if he wanted to be. "Why can't you try and get him out?"

"I think you're the only person that might be able to," Sam stated.

"And why do you think I'd be able to convince him?" You questioned, raising a brow.

Sam looked at you, giving you one of those 'you know exactly why' look. It wasn't a secret that you and Dean had feelings for each other, and have had these feelings for each other for the past couple of years. It was one of those things that even though neither one of you had directly said to each other that you have these feelings; it was kind of a known fact how the two of you felt about each other.

You sighed. "I can try."

Walking into the kitchen, you had decided that one of the things that you were going to do in order to try and convince Dean to come out of his room was bring apple pie as a kind of offering to him.

As you gathered the ingredients, one of the hunters from the Apocalypse World walked into the kitchen with a big smile on their face. "You making apple pie Y/N?" He asked, rubbing his hands together.

You nodded. "Yeah, I'm making a pie for Dean," you said, starting to chop up the apples.

The man sat down at the counter, and even though you didn't directly look up at him, you could have sworn that he rolled his eyes at your response. As much as you had wanted to comment, you decided to ignore it. "Anything that I can help you with?" You asked.

"Hoping you can make this pie for me instead of Dean," he stated. Instead of the eyeroll like he had done before it was a wink; and it took all you could not to roll your own eyes.

"I remember you saying how much you hated apple pie," you stated, putting the apples into a bowl of cinnamon sugar.

"But I've never had your apple pie Sweetheart," he said, winking again.

This time, you had decided to say something, as you did not like when someone other than Dean had called you Sweetheart. "It's Y/N, not Sweetheart."

"It's just a nickname Y/N," he said. "Lighten up."

Before you could comment any further, you heard someone clear their throat in the doorway; and when the two of you looked up, looking into that direction, it was Sam with a clipboard in his hand. "Jones, shouldn't you be getting ready for your wendigo hunt with Xander?"

Jones looked at Sam for a moment, before looking at you. "Can't wait to eat this when I get back," he winked, getting up from his spot at the counter and making his way out of the kitchen.

As soon as Jones was out of the earshot, Sam sat down on the same stool that Jones was sitting at a few seconds before. "I could have handled that myself you know," you stated, giving the piecrust a gentle coating of butter to make sure that it didn't completely burn in the oven.

"I know, I'm sorry," Sam said, slightly sighing. "Gonna try bribery?" He asked, pointing to the pie.

"I call it motivation," you shrugged.

With the pie finally done, you placed it onto a tray along with two forks and a pint of vanilla ice cream. You doubted you'd be able to convince Dean to come out of his room, but maybe you can convince him to at least share some of the apple pie that you had made for him with you so he could at least have some kind of social interaction.

Lifting up the tray, you took a deep breath and made your way out of the kitchen, heading to Dean's room.

Upon coming up to his door, it was shut like it has been the last several weeks, the sounds of his television blasting as he watched a horror movie (which sounded remotely like the All Saint's Day series to you, as you thought you could vaguely hear Hatchet Man's voice).

Knocking on the door, you heard Dean sigh loudly and pause the television. "Fuck off," he said, his voice annoyed.

"I don't really want to eat this apple pie by myself," you said, your voice a little low.

You heard Dean get up from his bed, slightly sighing. A few seconds later, his door opened and he looked down at you as you held the tray in your hands. "Sam put you up to this?" He asked.

"He asked me to try and convince you to come out of your room. But, I know I wouldn't be able to convince you, so, I decided to make some apple pie for us to share together instead," you smiled.

Dean eyed you and the pie for a moment before stepping to the side. "I'm watching All Saint's Day two," he said.

"Perfect," you said, stepping inside his room.

"Thanks for trying not to convince me," Dean said, between bites. "You're the only one I feel like gets it." He knew that you were the only person to get it, as you and him always seemed to be on similar wavelengths.

"I might not necessarily know what you went through but...I just know for me, if I came back to a Bunker full of strangers, I'd want to haul up in my room too," you said, wiping your mouth.

"You outdid yourself this time with the pie," he commented.

"It's how I always make it," you said.

Dean shrugged. "I don't know tastes...better than usual."

"Probably because you haven't had it in a while," you stated.

"Probably," he agreed.

"I hope you enjoyed your pie," you smiled, grabbing the tray; no more pie or ice cream in sight.

"I did, thanks," Dean said, sitting on the edge of the bed as he watched you make your way to his bedroom door. "You didn't have to make it for me by the way. I know you've been busy with all the other hunters."

"Dean, I wanted to," you began, walking back to the bed where he was and placed the tray of empty dishes next to him. "Besides, I'll never be too busy for you," you stated, taking his hand in yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. "You mean a lot to me Dean, you know that," you added.

The feeling of your hand in his was one that he longed for these past couple of weeks, but he didn't necessarily know how to ask for it. "You mean a lot to me too," he stated. More than you'll ever realize, he wanted to add. He took your other hand in his as he stood up from his spot on the bed gently looking down at you.

"Want to help me with the dishes and then we can come back in here and do something?" You asked him. "We can either watch something or just go to sleep; up to you," you softly smiled.

"I'd like for us to take a drive together. Feel like Baby's been neglected these past few months I've been away," he grinned; a brief chuckle leaving his lips.

"I'd like that," you smiled.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @octoberclidan @kidwhofixates @crystal555 @hannahisthebanana @seamlessepiphany @madzzz0797 @livingordeadwhoknows @writinginfear @Roskar16 @syrma-sensei @k-slla @justletmereadfanfic @deans-daydream @midorimachisenpaii @rachiem4-blog @taraswifes @zepskies @jackles010378 @mrsjenniferwinchester @globetrotter28 @deans-spinster-witch @mrlonelycat @frozenhuntress67 @coldspoons @androah If you'd like to be added to a tag list please follow this link

#Dean Winchester x you #Dean Winchester x reader #spn #supernatural #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #dean x reader #dean x you #reader insert #female reader

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pinknightsinmymind · 1 year

Text

【 the late shift - abby anderson | NSFW 】

wife!doctor!abby anderson x fem!wife!reader

NSFW CONTENT BELOW CUT MDNI

wc: 6.1k

summary: it's your precious wife's birthday. what better way to celebrate than dinner and birthday sex?

content: modern!au, wife!doctor!abby, wife!reader, descriptions of cooking (bc i love food❤️), domesticity with abby (she helps you cook), switch!abby, switch!reader, dom&sub!reader, dom&sub!abby, top&bottom!reader, top&bottom!abby, hickies, oral sex (r!receiving & abby!receiving), use of toys (abby!receiving), face sitting, fingering (abby!receiving), strap-on usage (r!receiving), abby refers to the strap as her dick/cock, doggy position, nipple play, praise, slight degradation (like once), slight spit kink, body worship, slight dumbification, breeding kink, abby lowkey having a housewife kink, slight spanking (abby just loves slapping your ass), slight dacryphillia, mentions of wine, reader and abby a lil tipsy, use of pet names (baby, babe, love, pretty girl, honey, etc.), mentions of nudes

a/n: this is the filthiest thing i've ever written. this is also the fic that won the poll i posted, so pls enjoy!! also, even though the morning sex option lost on the poll, i'm still gonna post that fic soon, and i can't wait for yall to read it!! pls tell me what you think about this fic bc i'd love to hear!! in this fic i introduce to you my abby happy trail agenda :)) again i just wanna thank you for all your support and love on my fics i appreciate every ounce of it i love yall so much <333

Abby was running late from work today—of all days—like she said she wouldn’t. Despite the fact it was her birthday, she couldn’t take the day off since one of her coworkers was on vacation at the moment. So, with no one else to cover the shift, she begrudgingly went to work on the one day she wanted off more than anything. The entire time she wished she were home and not at the hospital, but on her lunch break she sent you a photo of the small cake her coworker and friend, Nora, brought her. Since work would drain her by the time she got home, all she wanted was a simple at-home celebration that included dinner with you. She said she would be too tired for anything more than that, but you still had a few surprises lined up for her. You had her gifts waiting for her in your bedroom, a cake in the fridge, and you also had a brand new lingerie set you were wearing underneath your clothes. One that you may or may not have sent photos of your body in to tease her while she was at work. But that was neither here nor there.

However, despite both of your best efforts, today just wasn’t playing out how either of you wanted. She had promised she’d be home tonight by five to celebrate her birthday, but it was already past seven. You had gotten texts from her earlier explaining that an emergency had come up with one of her patients and that she’d be running late. You understood that her work was important and, of course, weren’t mad at her for something out of her control. You also knew she cared a lot about her patients and took her work seriously. You were just a little sad that you couldn’t celebrate her birthday sooner and that you had to wait a little longer. While sitting on the couch, you got a text from Abby saying she was finally on her way home. You decided now would be the best time to start getting dinner ready, and headed to the kitchen to prepare everything. You cleaned up your big, granite counter so you’d have space for all your ingredients, and pulled out a cutting board. You had barely finished chopping the mushrooms and tomatoes when you heard the front door opening and closing. You heard Abby’s keys jingling as her steady footsteps sounded from the foyer all the way into the den.

“[Y/N]?” she called.

“In the kitchen!” you responded, leaning against the counter as you waited for her to emerge. She was still in her scrubs and had her backpack on, but as soon as she saw you she slipped it off and let it drop to the floor.

“Baby, I’m so sorry,” she said immediately. She walked up to you and pulled you into a hug. “One of my patients had an emergency that I needed to take care of. I had barely finished packing my things up when it happened. I didn’t even get the chance to clock out.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” you assured her. “I know these things happen.” Abby pulled away from the hug, her hands slipping from your shoulders down to your waist. She placed a kiss on your forehead.

“You sure? I know you wanted today to be special.”

“I mean, I’m a little sad you came home later than usual, but at least you’re here now,” you explained.

“I’m sorry, honey,” she said again. She craned her face down to your neck and began to place kisses along your collarbones and the side of your neck. “I really wanted to come home early like you wanted.”

“It’s okay. You texted me right on time, so at least I hadn’t started making dinner. It would’ve gone cold.”

“Now that would’ve made me even sadder,” Abby said, pulling her face out from the crook of your neck. She rubbed lazy circles on your back before picking you up without warning. She sat you down on the kitchen counter and made sure to stand in between your legs. She placed more kisses on your neck and jaw, her hands rubbing up and down your thighs. “You’re such an angel. Let me make it up to you, hm?”

“Abs,” you said quietly.

“Let me make you feel good.”

“But you’re still in your scrubs,” you said to her.

“And?” She bit the skin around your neck, then sucked on it a little before licking it. A small whine left your lips at the feeling as you grasped onto her big arms. “I thought you said they look good on me?”

“You’re a huge germaphobe. You know this,” you scolded her. Abby stopped what she was doing and sighed.

“Fine, you’re right. I’ll shower, but when I get out, it’s over for you,” she warned.

“Sure it is, ma’am,” you joked with her.

“Wanna bet?” she asked. She turned to look at you, raising one of her eyebrows as she gave your body a once over.

“Go take a shower, Abigail,” you said jokingly. She laughed as she turned around to walk to your bedroom.

“Using my full government name now? Wow,” she said with fake hurt before disappearing down the hall. You chuckled a little and rolled your eyes at her dramatics.

First order of business: sauce. You prepped the pan and poured in the tomato sauce that Abby liked and added the chopped up tomatoes and mushrooms to the mix. While the sauce was heating up, you began to prepare the pot to boil the pasta. You made fun of Abby for having bowties as her favorite pasta—you told her it was so cute for someone as tough-looking as her—but it was her favorite so of course you’d make it. You salted the water as you turned up the temperature of the oven. Now all that was left was to make the chicken. The chicken had been defrosting in the sink for a while, and you still had to set up the bowls of batter and crumbs. You decided to coat the chicken in panko bread crumbs for a more crunchy texture, the sound of the sizzling oil filling the air as you dropped the chicken in. The sauce you had made was already simmering on the stove, and you knew it would be finished by the time the chicken was. While you set the chicken to fry, you finally added the pasta into the now boiling water.

You were checking on the chicken when you felt a pair of hands slide across your stomach from behind you. You stifle a chuckle at the feeling as you hadn’t heard Abby approach you and because it made you flustered. Her hands roamed from your stomach to ghost over your ribcage, down to your lower abdomen, repeat. She knew just how to fluster you.

“Well, hello to you, too,” you said to her. You grabbed the tongs nearby and flipped the pieces of chicken over.

“You look so cute like this,” Abby whispered.

“Oh, yeah?” you asked. “What about me is cute to you right now?”

“The fact that you’re making me dinner.” One of her hands slid down from your stomach and past your thighs before she started to grope your ass.

“Abby!” you yelled. “Stop being so horny.” Although you were technically scolding her, you were laughing a little bit as you did. You wanted to pretend you didn’t like Abby’s antics, but you couldn’t. She was just so endearing, and you did love her touch.

“Alright, alright. I’ll keep my hands above your ass. Is that better?” she teased.

“Much better.” You took out two pieces of chicken that were done frying and placed them on the pan you set out to collect them after they were cooked. After you finished with the chicken you were planning on covering them in mozzarella to sit in the oven for a few minutes. You felt Abby’s hand move from your ass and back to caressing your stomach and your hips. “You’re touchy today.”

“And are you complaining?” she asked in a low voice. She nuzzled her face into your neck as she began to place kisses all over your skin. She was gingerly ghosting over that one spot that drove you crazy, barely leaving a trace of her warmth behind as her skin grazed past yours. Her lips would practically hover over as if she was going to kiss you before moving. What a tease.

“No, but aren’t you afraid of the oil splattering us?”

“I don’t know. I think it could be kind of sexy. Like wax play or something.”

“You are unbelievable,” you laughed. “If you want to be helpful, can you get the mozzarella out of the fridge? The packaging’s brand new.”

She placed a few more kisses on the back of your neck. “Yes, ma’am.” She pulled away from your body, but not before smacking your ass.

“Abigail Anderson,” you warned.

“[Y/N] Anderson,” she said as she walked to the fridge. “I’ll do you one better. I’ll even shred it for you,” she announced.

“Wow. You’re so kind,” you said sarcastically. You took out the two final pieces of chicken and turned the burner beneath the pan off. In the meantime, you could hear Abby pulling out the cheese grater and a bowl to get to work. You grabbed a nearby spoon and stirred the pasta a little bit to see how close it was to being ready.

“Here you go, love.” Abby suddenly appeared at your side with the shredded mozzarella in a bowl for you. She gave you a kiss on the cheek, one you quickly returned as you grabbed the bowl from her hands.

“Thank you, babe.”

“No problem. Let me drain the pasta for you, okay?” Abby said. You nodded as you turned off the sauce and got to work on the chicken. You drizzled an equal amount of cheese on each piece of chicken before sliding it into the oven. While you were busy with that, you could hear Abby digging around to find the strainer. It didn’t take her long, and before you knew it you could hear the water going down the sink’s drain. After you closed the oven, you leaned against the counter and let out a sigh. Only a few more minutes and dinner would be ready. You watched Abby as she transferred the pasta back to its pot before leaving the strainer by the kitchen sink. When Abby turned around, she gave you a sheepish smile as she waltzed to the stove. She put the pot on one of the empty burners before sauntering over to you. She pulled you by your hips closer to her.

“Can’t wait to eat this food,” she said. “You worked so hard on it.”

“Well, it’s your birthday!” you said excitedly. “I wanted it to be special.”

“And you achieved just that.” Abby leaned in, her lips touching yours so gently and with such passion. Her arms wrapped around you tightly as she pulled you closer. Your hands found their way to her hair as you got enraptured in the kiss. Her hair was down at the moment, and it was always such a sight to see. You loved the way it framed her face, how it seemed to make her features light up. She felt so good against you, and you could smell the coconut shampoo she used and the pine soap that made her smell so fresh and clean. God, she was so addicting, and as much as you loved kissing her, your eyes widened when you remembered the chicken inside the stove.

“Abby,” you said.

“What is it, baby?” she whispered, clearly thinking you were about to ask her something else.

“The chicken!” you said, and pulled away from her immediately. You yanked the stove open and pulled the food out. The delicious scent immediately wafted to your nose, and you could feel your stomach come to life with hunger.

“God, that looks delicious,” Abby said. “Yeah, I’m fucking you good tonight.” You wanted to make a joke about how vulgar her words were, but you already knew what she would say in response: “But you like it, don’t you?” The answer would be “yes,” and that’s why you let the words stay in your mouth.

After the successful dinner, you brought Abby’s gifts out from your bedroom to let her open them up. You bought her the gold bracelet she had been eyeing for a while, a special edition copy of her favorite book, and concert tickets for her favorite band. To say she was pleased was an understatement. After Abby opened her presents, she ran to your pantry to pull out the brand new bottle of wine she had hidden for this occasion. It was a surprise from her to you for such a great day so far. One and a half glasses of wine later, you and Abby were cuddling on the couch together. At least that’s what it had begun as. The two of you nursing your glasses of wine, sitting together underneath a blanket, a random show playing on the TV, until the drinks started to make you both a little frisky. Your glasses had both been abandoned on the coffee table in front of you, Abby’s lips on yours as she pulled you into her lap. Her hands were roaming all over your body. From your ass to your hips, your waist to beneath your bra. While on the outside she continued her movements without hesitation, on the inside she felt herself getting flustered. She had seen the photos you sent her while she was at work—she spent a good few minutes gawking at them—but she didn’t think you were still wearing the lingerie set. The bra you were wearing was lacy and thin, and was that a bow in the center? You would be the death of her. She just wanted all of you in this moment, and no matter how much she pulled you into her body, it wasn’t close enough. Her lips wandered from your jaw down to your neck, leaving scarlet marks there in her wake.

“I’ve wanted you so bad all day, baby,” she whispered. Her hands began fiddling with your nipples through your bra. The fabric was so thin it was like you weren’t wearing anything at all. “So bad. Especially after you teased me while I was at work.” Your lips found hers again, and to your surprise, Abby’s hands moved to your hips as she made you grind onto her. A small whimper left your mouth at the sudden friction, the noises you made immediately swallowed by her kiss.

“Abby,” you moaned. She smiled at the mention of her name, but her lips stayed on yours.

“What is it?” she asked between kisses.

“I need you.” She moved your hips into hers again, the ache in between your legs becoming too much. You just needed her to make it go away. “Let’s go to our room.” You could feel Abby perk up at the request, and she didn’t hesitate to push the blanket off both your bodies. She adjusted your legs so they were wrapped around her waist, strengthening her grip around your ass. She got up from the couch and began walking down the hall to your bedroom. She stopped kissing you to keep an eye on where she was headed, but you started to kiss her all over her neck. She gave your ass a particularly harsh squeeze before she pushed the door open to your room. She continued her march to your bed, setting you down onto the soft mattress before her. When she plopped down next to you in bed, your hands didn’t hesitate to wander towards the hem of her shirt, pulling it off her body desperately. To your delight, she wasn’t wearing a bra. Your lips found their way to her breasts, kissing all over them and her nipples. Before Abby knew it, you had your lips wrapped around her nipples, sucking and kissing them gently.

“Fuck, baby,” she groaned. “Treat me so good.”

“Wanna taste you,” you mumbled against her skin. “Let me eat you out.” Abby wasn’t going to object, because she wanted you to do as you asked just as bad as you did. “Say it,” you commanded.

“I want you to eat me out,” she whined. You kissed down from her breasts to her stomach, fingers ghosting over her pale, blonde happy trail. You pulled her sweatpants down and—No panties. You took her in like the beautiful sight she was.

“You’re not wearing anything underneath at all, Abs?” you teased. “Is that how bad you’ve needed me?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“Lay down,” you ordered her. She did as you asked, laying on top of your well-made bed that would soon be messed up when you were done with her. You moved closer to her and grabbed ahold of her thighs, kissing them as you inched upwards towards her center. You could see how wet and needy she was for your touch. You didn’t hesitate to begin sucking at her clit, because you knew that was just the place she needed your attention from the most. You’d spare her some teasing. She moaned as soon as she felt the contact, squirming from the stimulation. You wrapped your arms around her thighs to hold her in place and pull her closer to you. You could feel her pubic hair scratching your face as you dug in, but it was never a sensation you hated. You enjoyed having all of her, every piece of her. You loved her taste on your tongue, the way she moaned and whimpered with every movement of it. You just loved making her feel good.

She kept squirming underneath you, every sound coming out of her either being a whine or a whimper. She always got desperate like this whenever she was receiving, and it was always such a sight. Abby liked to portray herself as this strong, dominant person, but that image of her always quickly dissipated as soon as your mouth was on her pussy. That version of Abby was nowhere to be found, not when you were taking care of her like this, giving her the space to let her guard down for once.

“Baby, you need to stop squirming,” you warned her. “You keep moving away from me. Feels that good, love?”

“So good,” she choked out. You stopped sucking on her clit, instead choosing to circle it with your thumb, only achingly slow. A pathetic whimper left her lips, and you knew she was feeling desperate. That was the point. You wanted to play with her, to make her beg. You kept moving your thumb slowly, no matter how much she whined. She’d have to ask you if she wanted more.

“What’s the matter?” you teased her. “You sound like you’re crying. What’s wrong? Tell me.”

“Need you,” she cried. “Please. I need more.”

“What do you need? Gotta tell me exactly what you want,” you explain.

“I need your mouth on me. Suck on my clit, please.” She was just so needy. How could you deny her? You returned your lips to her cunt, licking her through her folds, admiring how much wetter she had grown in the process. She tasted so sweet on your tongue as you lightly brushed it over her clit before taking it back into your mouth to suck on it again. You could feel her thighs tightening around you, and you let her do it. You knew this meant she was getting close, and you didn’t let up on your actions. You kept kissing and licking and sucking, wanting to do anything your wife may have needed. Her thighs were shaking by this point.

“Gonna cum,” she whimpered. Her hands were gripping onto the bed sheets, her head tilting as she let out rough moans. She was close, and a loud moan left her mouth suddenly. That’s how you knew she came, but you weren’t done. While she was still sensitive, you began to circle your thumb around her clit, little whimpers leaving her lips at the feeling. You reached into the bedside stand and pulled out the dildo you knew she kept there, licking it to get it wet.

“Can you take it, love?” you asked her. She nodded. “What did we talk about? Use your words, Abs,” you scolded her.

“I can take it. Please, put it inside me.” You did as she asked, slowly thrusting it inside her. You didn’t stop circling her clit as you did so, intent on making sure she felt good each step of the way. A groan left Abby’s lips as she felt the dildo slowly entering her inch by inch. The pleasure was overwhelming, and she couldn’t help any of the loud moans leaving her mouth when you were this good to her.

“Just like that, baby,” you encouraged her. “Just like that. Keep moaning for me.” You finally had the dildo to the hilt inside her, leaving it in for a moment to let her adjust. After you let her get comfortable, you pulled it out and let it sink back within her, solidifying a steady pace for her.

“It feels so good. God, it’s so good,” she moaned. You smiled at her reaction, making sure to continue giving her just what she needed. You continued at the pace you set, Abby growing increasingly desperate with each drag of the toy. “Harder. Please. Harder,” she begged. And who were you to deny what your love wanted? You did just as she asked, moving the dildo at the same speed, but with a greater intensity like she asked. There were tears brimming her eyes as she continued moaning. She felt so good, unable to fully put into words just how amazing you made her feel. All she knew is that she didn’t want this to end.

“Are you gonna cum for me, darling?” you asked her.

“Fuck,” she moaned. “Yes, yes, yes. I’m gonna cum.” You continued your actions as she asked, watching as she creamed all over the toy. Abby was catching her breath as you pulled the toy out of her and rushed to put it in the bathroom sink. When you came back, Abby was sitting up in bed with a new fire in your eyes. As soon as you got close enough to her, she grabbed your hand and pulled you back into the bed. She stood up from the bed and got down on her knees in front of you. She didn’t hesitate to pull your jeans down your legs, her eyes immediately landing on the pretty lingerie set underneath your pants. She pulled your legs apart, unable to stop herself from kissing your cunt through your panties, all pretty and lacy in your favorite color. She was so overwhelmed with love and lust, unsure what to do with herself and the rush of emotions filling her body. It didn’t help that you were both a little tipsy. She licked a stripe over the fabric, your hands automatically moving to grab her hair. After a few more teasing licks, she finally pulled your panties down, and she could see how wet you were. You were practically glistening, all pretty and ready just for her. She dug into you immediately, her tongue tasting and feeling every part of you.

“Taste so good, love,” she groaned. The moans leaving your lips were addictive. It was her favorite part of pleasuring you: hearing how good you felt. And when you’d finally cum on her face? That’s what made it all worth it. She continued sucking on your clit, moaning at the feeling of your growing wetness on her lips. Your grip kept tightening on her hair, and she loved it. She was on her knees before you, and she felt that was exactly where she belonged—worshiping you.

“You know what I want?” she suddenly spoke up. She trailed her lips away from your center and began kissing your thighs as she looked up at you. You could tell by the look in her eyes she had an idea. “Want you to sit on my face, love. Can you do that for me?” You couldn’t say no. Not when she was looking up at you like that.

“Yes,” you answered. The switch from your dominant personality from earlier to this submissive one was making Abby’s head spin.

“Good girl. Just what I wanted to hear.” Abby rose from her position on the ground and crawled onto the bed before laying down. “Come on, babe. I’m all ready for you.” You moved from where you were sitting on the edge of the bed towards her body. You straddled her hips and leaned down to kiss her, hoping to convey to her all the love and longing you were feeling. Abby’s hands moved from her sides to rub against your hips before promptly slapping your ass. You let out a yelp at the sensation, but it only made you wetter. “Come on. Stop teasing me. I need to taste you again. Need to show my sweet, little wife how much I love her.” You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your mouth when you felt her slap your ass again. “You made me a nice, home-cooked meal to celebrate my birthday, and I think that means I should be putting a baby in you by the end of the night. What do you think?”

“Please, Abs,” you whined. “I want you so bad.”

“Then sit on my face, pretty girl. You know that’s what I want.” You finally pulled your lips away from hers and removed yourself from her lap. You looked down at Abby one last time before sliding one of your legs to rest on the other side of her head until you were practically straddling her. You had yet to set yourself down on her face yet, but Abby waited, her hands already reaching up to start tracing the skin over your ass and hips. You slowly situated yourself against her mouth, something you’ve done countless times before, but the anticipation always consumed you.

The first thing you felt was the warmth of her lips, then the wetness of her tongue as she started to lick your folds. A whine left your lips at the feeling, so desperate for your wife like always. Abby’s grip on your ass was tight as she held you in place, ensuring that she’d be able to devour you just like she wanted. She rocked your hips as she licked your cunt and lapped up all your juices. The friction was making you see stars. She kept moving you, guiding your movements onto her tongue, never once stopping for a second. You felt her let out a small moan, the vibrations reverberating and amplifying your pleasure. Abby suddenly stilled the movements of your hips, but her grip tightened as you felt her start to suck your clit.

“Oh, Abby, just like that,” you moaned. You didn’t have to tell her twice, as her tongue was already swirling around your clit just how you liked it. You felt so good, the pleasure overwhelming your body from just how good Abby was treating you. She was definitely keeping her promise from earlier. You moaned at the feeling of her tongue working against you. You could feel the knot growing in your stomach, building faster and faster. The moans leaving your lips were desperate, but you couldn’t help it when this was how Abby made you feel. She made you feel alive, like your whole body was on fire.

“I’m close,” you moaned. “I’m so close.” Your hands gripped onto your thighs as Abby’s grip was too strong for you to move anywhere else. Instead, you steadily rocked your hips against her face, the tip of her nose knocking into your clit. The friction and combined with the way Abby was eating you out was intense, and within seconds you felt yourself cumming all over her face. Abby continued sucking on your clit to fuck you through your orgasm, but she wasn’t done with you yet. She tapped onto your thighs, a sign you recognized as her asking you to get off her. You did as she asked and removed yourself from her face to settle into the sheets. Abby sat up in bed, and she wasted no time in kissing you wildly. You could feel the wetness on her face and taste yourself on her tongue, completely lost in the feeling of her. You could do this with her for hours if she wanted. You felt her reach down to your t-shirt and raised it over your head as she immediately ogled at the pretty bra you had on. It matched your panties, and it looked so gorgeous on you. She kissed you hungrily, palming at your breasts. She reached behind you to unclip your bra and threw it somewhere randomly. She was back on you in an instant, clearly not satisfied.

“You want my cock in you, baby? Want me to fill you up?”

“God, yes, Abby,” you answered.

“I’ll go get it.” You watched as she retreated to your closet that held most of your toys, the main one being her strap. She returned to your bedside with both the flesh-colored dildo and harness in her hands. “Help me put it on, honey.” You did as she asked and moved towards the edge of the bed. Abby slipped her legs through the harness, but you helped her tighten the straps and adjust it on her hips. She stroked your cheeks and hair as you did so with a soft smile on her face.

“Okay, it’s ready, Abs,” you announced.

“Thank you, baby. Why don’t you turn around and get on your hands and knees for me, huh?” You didn’t hesitate to do as she asked, getting yourself comfortable in the position that was without a doubt Abby’s favorite. You felt Abby step closer to your body, the strap momentarily pressing against your skin. You heard Abby spitting, and before you knew it you felt something wet coating your cunt. She rubbed the strap through your folds, teasing your clit before bringing it back up to your hole. You were still so wet and ready for her; it made her feel lightheaded. Abby started teasing your entrance with her cock, and you let out a small whimper in response. She pushed it in a tiny bit, but just that small thrust had you whining. She pulled it out, then put it back in the same amount, then out again. She was teasing you, and she reveled in every moment of it. She did the same pattern again, this time pushing it in up to its head. She could hear the desperate whines leaving your mouth, but she was a bully when it came to teasing.

“Abby!” you whined. She let out a quiet chuckle.

“Is something wrong, baby?” she asked, pulling out yet again.

“Yes! You’re teas—” Before you could finish, she pushed it back into you again, nearly half-way now. It caught you off guard, a gasp leaving your lips at the sensation.

“What was that?” she asked.

“You’re teasing me,” you said. Abby pulled out of you again, and it left you feeling so empty. You just wanted her deep inside of you. “Please, Abby. I need you inside me. Please.”

“Fuck. I can’t tell you no, baby.” Without warning, you felt her shove the entire thing inside you this time. You moaned loudly at the sudden force. “Like that? Wanted me deep inside you like this?”

“Yes,” you answered. Abby grabbed onto your hips roughly, preparing herself as she slid her dick out of you a tiny bit before slamming it back in, then repeating. She was starting off slow and steady, but she was giving you what you needed. Your moans were already in full force, bouncing off the walls and filling her ears like sweet music. She got off on hearing you just as much as she did from seeing how you looked while she fucked you from behind. She started to pick up her pace a little bit, and she could see you reaching to grab at the bedsheets. She couldn’t help the smirk that appeared across her face.

“That’s it,” she encouraged. “Just like that. Got you going dumb on my cock already, huh?” She knew she wasn’t going to get an answer out of you since your face was buried in the mattress, but she was still going to ask. “Taking it so good, baby. Fuck, I love seeing you like this. All pretty and dumb on my cock. When I’m done with you, I’m gonna fill you all the way up. You’d like that?”

“Please. I need you to fill me up,” you cried out. Abby continued her pace, but when she heard your voice, she could tell that you were crying. It turned her on even more.

“Gonna let me cum inside and make you my pretty, little cumslut? Want me to get you fucking pregnant?” she asked.

“Yes!” you cried out. Abby was many things, but a composed woman at a time like this wasn’t one of them.

“Fuck,” she grunted. She loved the enthusiasm of your answer, speeding up the pace of her thrusts. She could feel the harness rubbing against her clit, and it was driving her wild. She kept fucking into you, pulling your hips into hers over and over again. Yeah, she was going to fuck you good, and she was going to make sure you were screaming the whole night. She could hear your skin slapping against hers as she continued her pace, and before she knew it her moans were joining in with yours. She just felt so amazing. Everything about this moment did.

“Abby! Fuck, Abby, you’re so deep. It’s so good.” You words were incoherent babbles, and that’s how Abby knew she was doing a good job for sure.

“I know, baby. I’m fucking you just right, huh? Just like you need.” She barely managed to get the words out, panting and grunting from her own pleasure. It just felt so good to take you in this position. You were having a hard time speaking yourself, your brain all fuzzy and fucked out. The feeling of Abby’s cock dragging inside your walls and that spot it was hitting were more than enough to fuck you dumb. It was all you ever needed. You could feel the tears that were drying on your cheeks as Abby continued to overstimulate you. You could feel yourself getting closer yet again, the feeling more than you could bear.

“Abby. Abby. I think I’m cumming,” you cried. “I’m gonna cum.” You were too out of it to speak, so caught up in the feeling of her inside you and her promises of breeding you. It all made you feel so good, the ideas of her cumming inside you upping your pleasure by a tenfold.

“Cum on my cock, baby. Know you can do it.” Abby didn’t let up her pace one bit, and you reached down to rub your clit as she fucked into you. Fuck. There was no one like Abby, and soon you found yourself cumming harder than ever. The moan that was ripped from your body sounded more like a scream as you continued to rub your clit while it washed over you. Abby was close, too, and hearing the sounds of your pleasure was enough to send her over the edge. Abby grunted loudly, feeling herself cum as the movement of her strap stilled inside you. You both stayed like that for a second to cool down, and after a moment Abby slowly pulled out of you. You moved out of the position you were in and collapsed on the bed. Abby pulled the harness and strap off her body, abandoning it on the bedside table. She’d leave cleaning it for later. She immediately dived into bed, fixing the covers for you both as she pulled you into her arms. She started kissing your forehead as she rubbed your back.

“You okay, love?”

“Yeah,” you answered. “Just tired.”

“Me, too. You did so good for me, baby.”

“Thanks, Abs. You were really good for me, too.”

“Yeah?” she asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “I love you. I’m so sleepy,” you whispered. Abby laughed at that.

“I love you, too. Now, let’s go to sleep, babe. I’m off tomorrow, remember?”

“Can we get coffee tomorrow?” you asked.

“Of course, baby. We’ll go shopping, too, if you want.”

“You’re so great, Abs. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” she replied, watching how your eyes fluttered shut. What a sleepy thing, she thought, but she’d have you no other way. That’s what she promised in her vows.

#tlou x reader #abby tlou #tlou abby #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson smut #abby x y/n #abby x you #abby x reader

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atarathegreat · 5 months

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Scary Wife Privileges Tokyo Revengers

Featuring: Chifuyu Matsuno, Mitsuya Takashi, Hakkai Shiba

You were getting tired of it, hearing Chifuyu complain about Takemichi and how the man runs things. "He'll come back, I know he will, but it's just aggravating right now."

When he talked about his boss he made little sense. You never understood his ramblings about "any day now." and "It's been twelve years." Some days it was too much and you started an argument with Chifuyu, an argument where he constantly refused to tell you anything about what he meant. It was pissing you off. Majorly. You wanted Chifuyu to be happy, but when he came home exhausted and angry every night, you didn't feel that he was happy.

His friends greeted you as you walked through the big building, smiles and waves from both sides as you walked to your husband's office. Chifuyu had been in a particularly bad mood the whole week and you hadn't made it any better by causing fights when he came home. Remorse was one of the many emotions you were feeling, topped with a cute little bow to compound everything and stamp it in like concrete.

"Fuyu," You spoke softly, a way you hadn't spoken to him in months, "do you have time?"

It was in his eyes, the fact that something had already happened was painted into the dark circles under his lashes. It made your heart lurch as he smiled sadly at you. "Always have time for you, baby." Chifuyu held a hand out to pull you in as you approached, "As long as you didn't come here to fight, in that case, I'm in a meeting." His half hearted joke made you sigh, "Already, today?"

His chest heaved with a sigh, "Trashed his own office. Don't worry, he wasn't mad at me this time."

There was no time for a response as the very man exploded into your husband's office behind you. He was on edge, clearly, but you didn't care about what he had to say. Months of anger from seeing your husband drink until he fell asleep with his face buried in your chest just poured out.

"Shut up. No one cares about whatever bullshit you're about to spout. Is this how you treat all of your workers?" You snapped, hands on your hips as you chastised him, "You're the exact definition of an asshole and so help you if my husband comes home angry again."

Takemichi looked caught off guard, a stark contrast to the man you'd not only met at your wedding, but the man in the stories Chifuyu brought home. He stumbled over his words, but you continued to chew into him as Chifuyu hugged around your waist and smiled into your shirt.

Mitsuya was used to the nitpicking his clients did, often smiling and agreeing, even if he didn't. He wasn't the type to retaliate because of a bad mood, especially since it was going to be something the other person wore and he would never have to look at it again.

And yet he kept having to send you silent glares and pointed looks to keep you from speaking up as you watched him work.

"And maybe if there was more detail in the train-"

"Do you know how long he's spent on this ugly garbage?" You spoke clearly, your nose in a book so you couldn't see Mitsuya glaring at you, "All the detail on the sleeves took two months anyways. And that's not including the beading along the end. Can't you appreciate that?"

The client stared at you, open mouthed and shocked. But you kept on, "To ask for more detail when he's already fixing the fabric to your measurements is... Stupid."

Mitsuya sighed, "Apologies for her."

"Don't apologize for me." When did you get off the couch? "How about you let him finish this piece so he can come home to his family at a decent time, yeah? His daughters are tired of going to sleep without Daddy tucking them in."

The club was loud. Too loud. You cursed under your breath at your husband for bringing you along with him. It wasn't your vibe, the whores and half naked bartenders that walked around while rich, old men played card games. Your dress, the one Hakkai told you to wear so you would fit in while still being modest, was swaying around and scratching at your ankles. People were staring at you as you walked through with your heels in hand. It wasn't your fault, the shoes were hurting your feet and Hakkai had disappeared almost an hour ago. You would've already headed home if you knew Hakkai wouldn't throw a fit.

"Black Dragon trash." You hissed under your breath when you finally saw him. He was laughing with his guys, seemingly ignoring the woman massaging his shoulders. Hakkai zoned in on your hips as you straddled his lap, your chest pressing into his face as you got in the woman's face, "Hands off, unless you want to give hand jobs with stumps for the rest of your life."

The fear you instilled in the woman was attractive to Hakkai, and his men noticed as well. It wouldn't have been the first time you'd left them with raging hard ons, and Hakkai sent a glare at all of them.

"Go rub up on someone else's husband, or so help me god the only use that pretty little mouth will have is sucking food through a straw."

#anime #manga #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #fanfiction #tokyo revengers x reader #Chifuyu matsuno #chifuyu matsuno x reader #mitsuya takashi #mitsuya takashi x reader #hakkai shiba #hakkai shiba x reader #tokyo rev x reader

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dollfacefantasy · 6 months

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Hiiii I was wondering if I could request smth along the lines of reader's old guy friend is in town from college and she has him over at her and Leon's apartment and he gets jealous so later he makes her sit there n watch as he jerks off so he can cum on her face and mark her as his 😭

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: an old friend of yours comes to visit, and leon gets a little jealous. he has to make sure you remember that you're all his.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, masturbation, facial, praise, jealousy

word count: 2.3k

a/n: i hope this is what you were wanting! thank you for requesting :) sorry if leon comes across as slightly insane, ummm that's just how i get when i'm jealous so... as always, i appreciate the reblogs and comments oh so much <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz

“It’s so great seeing you again,” you say as you pour lemonade into two glasses. The liquid crackles over the ice cubes, and you pick them up and hand one to the man standing on the opposite side of the counter.

Chad, your old friend from college, had come for an unannounced visit this afternoon. You didn’t particularly want him here, but you were being polite and catching up, going through normal small talk.

“Yeah, so it’s been great working there. Fingers crossed it stays that way,” he says.

You respond with a cordial laugh and smile as you hear the front door to your apartment opening.

“Hey babydoll, I’m-” Leon calls as walks through the entry. His eyebrows raise when he sees the unfamiliar person standing in his kitchen. “Who’s this?”

“Babydoll? Very cute,” Chad says to you teasingly.

Leon narrows his eyes slightly. It was a minor change in his expression. Chad probably didn’t notice it, but you picked up on it immediately.

You walk over to him and tuck yourself against his side. “This is my friend from college, Chad,” you say and look up at him. You rub his side reassuringly, knowing that Leon could be a little… territorial. “Chad, this is my boyfriend Leon.”

“Nice to meet you, Leon,” Chad says.

“Likewise. I’m sorry to interrupt. I didn’t know you would be here,” Leon says. You eye him, silently telling him to play nice. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Neither did she. I’m just in town for the weekend, thought I’d stop by. Got her address from a mutual friend,” Chad clarifies.

“How nice,” he says. You hoped Chad took this as a normal interaction, but the clipped nature of Leon’s tone was pretty obvious.

“We’re just finishing up here, sweetheart. I know you’re probably tired from working,” you reach up and stroke his cheek, giving him a look that says what you’re really communicating, “You can go relax, and I’ll join you as soon as I’m done.”

Before Leon can reply to you, Chad chimes in. “Don’t worry, big guy. Fifteen more minutes, and she’s back to being all yours.”

When did she stop being all mine? Leon wanted to answer. But he knew it would mortify you, so he kept his mouth shut. Instead, he lets out a forced laugh.

“Have fun, babydoll,” he says to you, pulling you closer for a tighter hug and planting a kiss on your lips. With that, he walks off to your shared bedroom.

He shuts the door behind him and groans. He knew this was fucking stupid and immature, but god, he couldn’t help it when it came to you. He knew he could trust you, that you would never betray him like that. And he knew it should be embarrassing, all logic and reason being thrown out the window in favor of the primal part of his brain that looked at you and could only think one thing: mine.

It was just so frustrating. He paces the room for a moment and pinches the bridge of his nose. He tries to tell himself it’s fine. He’s being over dramatic. It’s all fine.

But every part of his mind and body are telling him it’s not fine. You're his. And who does that dumb fuck think he is to make fun of you for liking the name babydoll? Who does he think he is calling him “big guy” like they’re buddies or something? Who does he think he is, intruding on your private time together by coming over uninvited?

The whole thing pissed Leon off even more because he knew the real root of why he was getting so riled up about this even if he didn’t want to admit it. He had been so fucking horny all day, and all he wanted tonight was to come home to his sweet girl and stuff her full of his cock till neither of them could think straight.

Constantly, throughout the day, he pictured you whining, face contorting in pleasure, clawing at his back as he was balls deep inside that tight, wet pussy. He envisioned the way you wrapped your limbs around him and whimpered “My Leon” when the pleasure got too good. And now that he was thinking of this again, he felt himself getting hard inside the constraints of his jeans.

He could hear you out there talking to Chad, and it was driving him crazy. He could hear your laughter, but it wasn’t genuine. It didn’t sound true like when he told you a stupid joke. No. Obviously, you didn’t even really want this guy here.

While that should’ve made him feel better, it just worked him up more, convincing him you should’ve been in here with him instead, your face pressed to the mattress and your ass in the air while he filled you till you were leaking his cum.

After a while, it finally sounded like the conversation out there was winding down. He couldn’t restrain himself anymore. He had to give in a little bit. He adjusts himself to conceal his half-hard cock and walks out to the living room, acting as if he was getting a drink. He sees you saying bye to Chad at the front door.

At first he’s relieved, finally this douchebag will be out of your hair. But then he looks closer. That guy had his hand on your shoulder, his fingers rubbing tiny circles on the fabric of your shirt. Leon sees you shrug the hand off, but it does little to quell his anger.

Then this fucking guy brushes a strand of your hair out of your face as he says goodbye. You shrink away from the contact but still. It takes everything in Leon not to explode and rip that guy apart. He keeps his cool though and just glares daggers at him.

Chad catches a glimpse of him as he leaves. His expression falters a little as he sees the hateful look Leon’s shooting him, but he quickly puts on his stupid fucking smile again and waves. “See you another time, big guy.”

Leon’s blood boils at the comment. That guy thinks he’s so fucking funny. In reality, he was pathetic, hitting on you when he knew your boyfriend was in the other room. He wanted to go out there and wipe that smile off that guy’s face again. Let him know who’s girl you really were.

You turn around, and it’s like you can feel the fury radiating off of him. “Leon…” you say softly.

“What?” he says flatly before walking to the fridge to gulp down some water. He needed to cool off. He didn’t blame you for his own childish feelings, and it wouldn’t be fair to lash out at you.

You walk over to him tentatively. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he says before swallowing the water. God, just look at you. So fucking cute he could barely take it. Looking up at him with those adorable eyes, your voice all soft and sweet like you couldn’t say a mean word if you tried. He couldn’t take it out on you, but he was so pent up.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

“Baby, I’m fine,” he repeats before finishing his drink. He decides to go back to the bedroom. You could follow if you wanted, but being in this state of anger when you were being so gentle was making him wild. He wanted to ruin you and have you crying that he was the only one you’d ever want. It was making him hard again.

You follow him to the bedroom and stand in the doorway. He’s sitting on the bed, clearly frustrated, and you have a good idea of what the problem is.

“You know he’s just a friend- actually, even less than that. He’s just some guy I used to know. I hadn’t thought about him in years before he showed up today,” you say.

“I know.”

“Then what’s the matter, my love. Why do you seem so tense?” you coo as you walk towards him.

Leon hesitates. He knew how pathetic the words sounded even before they came spilling out of his mouth. “The way he was touching you? And the way he talked. He’s such a dick.”

“I know,” you sigh, “Like I said, we aren’t friends. You’ll most likely never see him again, so I wouldn’t give him anymore of your energy.”

“Is it not obvious you’re mine?” he continues, “And the whole babydoll thing? Fuck that guy. I like that you like when I call you babydoll. It’s cute. He’s fucking stupid.”

You just nod, letting him rant and get it out of his system. Kneeling down in front of him, you rub his knee and up to his thigh. “I like when you call me babydoll too. It’s very sweet,” you agree with a small smile.

It was an innocent gesture, getting on your knees in front of him. An attempt to make better eye contact with the way he was sitting. But now, his dick was solid. He shifts a little.

“Because you’re precious,” he breathes and leans forward to lay a kiss on your forehead.

You sense the shift in his demeanor and see his physical fidgeting. “How can I make you feel better, babe? Take your mind off it?”

He stares at you for a moment, contemplating what he wants. “Just stay there,” he grunts when he figures it out. He undoes his belt and slides his pants and boxers down his legs. His flushed cock rests against his thigh.

You assume he wants a blowjob, so you reach for it. You’re surprised when he grabs your wrist and stops you. “Not right now, honey.”

He leans back a little and wraps his fingers around his cock. He begins stroking slowly, up and down. He lets out a deep breath.

You raise your eyebrows at him but don’t protest. If this was what he wanted, why would you oppose?

“Just stay right there, angel. Just need a minute,” he says.

He looks down at you, his eyes hooded with lust. You were perfect to him. The way you watched and didn’t say a word, letting him do what he needed.

“My pretty girl,” he grunts and teaches with his free hand to stroke your hair. He pumps his cock a little faster, “Spit on it for me, babydoll.”

You do what he asks, leaning forward and spitting down onto his cock. His hand slides up, taking your saliva and spreading it over the head and down the shaft.

“Good girl,” he says. A low moan rumbles in his chest as he jerks himself off in front of you. You just watch silently.

You keep your eyes on his fist and the beads of precum that leak from the angry, red tip. While you gaze at this sight, you tilt your head and rest it on his thigh.

He didn’t even fully understand why, but seeing you do that sets something off in him. A guttural sound erupts from some deep, primitive place inside him, and his hips buck into his hand. The way you looked so content to just watch him please himself. It made him feel the connection to you that he so desperately needed to be reminded of.

“Sweet baby,” he moans, his head falling back, “My precious girl. Only mine.”

He starts gently fucking his closed fist, biting his lip and whimpering as he does. You grew damp between your thighs at the sight.

“You’re my baby. Mine. You wouldn’t do this for anyone else. I’m the only one who gets to have this, see you on your knees watching me jerk off,” he mumbles, more to himself than you as the rush of impending release fogs his head.

“Mhm,” you simply agree.

He moans more, his eyes half shut at this point. His hips keep working slightly. Soft, wet noises fill the air as the mix of saliva and precum coat his dick throughout the process.

“Baby, say you’re mine. Say it to me. Wanna fucking hear it,” he groans.

“I’m yours,” you say.

“Yeah, you are,” he grunts, “Nobody else gets my baby girl. You’re only for me.”

He whimpers again and his breathing becomes ragged as he gets closer to the edge. It’s so close, he can feel it right there.

“Gonna cum on your face, baby. Gotta see that you belong to me. See my fucking mark on you,” he rambles out.

“I want you to cum on my face. Wanna feel my Leon claim me as his own,” you say.

Once he hears those two words, it’s over. He makes a noise that’s somewhere between a growl and a whine as he cums. Euphoric release floods his veins while streams of hot, sticky cum cover your face. He thrusts upward into his grasp as they flow out of him and coat your skin.

When he’s finished, he looks down at you with dilated pupils. All the anger had left him with his orgasm, and now it was replaced by pure love for you. You still looked so cute covered in his cum.

He sits up and strokes your jaw. “Thank you, baby. Sorry for getting so intense,” he chuckles.

You smile and rise to sit next to him on the bed. “It’s ok. I get a little crazy when I’m jealous too,” you say.

“Oh? I don’t think I’ve seen that,” he says teasingly.

“Well, don’t try to find out,” you say and smile at him.

You sit there for a moment, wondering if you could clean your face now. He seems to know what you’re thinking. He rubs your thigh and kisses your hair.

“Give me a few minutes to get it up again,” he whispers in your ear, “Then I’m cumming deep inside that pretty pussy while you're still covered in my last load. Gonna have everyone in this city hear who you belong to when you're screaming my name.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil smut #smut

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