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#this took so much DAMN work but i am SO happy with the results
mo-ok · 2 years
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Power Rangers RPM vs Engine Sentai Go-onger
nothing quite like the tonal whiplash between survivors of the end of the world meeting five idiots and their legal guardians
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leighsartworks216 · 6 months
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Prompt for whenever you want it: the reader grew up in a household where she wasn't allowed to be very feminine/like cute things. Her family was adamant that she be tough and that anything remotely feminine or pretty would be wasted on her. So she secretly likes cute and pretty things, but has internalized all the things her family told her so she never let's it show. I would love to see astarion pick up on it and how he would react? I just imagined one day he presents her with a delicate handkerchief with her initials (he embroidered them himself) and I practically bawled my eyes out 😭😭😭
Idk why I really struggled to write this one. I just had a hard time starting it. So I'd write an opening, hate it, leave it for a bit, come back, leave it again. But I finally got it to a point that I am happy with it
Astarion x fem!Tav/Reader
Warnings: vague references to trauma, self-doubt, swearing
Word Count: 1,041
Main Masterlist
Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist
AO3
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One gets quite good at reading people when that’s all you did for 200 years. Someone would twitch and Astarion could know exactly what they were thinking. Reading you was as easy as opening a book.
Every time you passed a market or merchant, Astarion could see the way your eyes flit longingly over jewelry or dresses. It was always brief. If the vendor noticed, they’d try pitching the item to you; the same old lines: “A beautiful necklace for a beautiful lady!” But you just smiled politely and shook your head, muttering how it wasn’t your style.
It was curious. Throughout your journey so far, he’d noticed other things, too. How you’d save the most beautiful, feminine dresses for your female companions. At first he just thought you wanted to give them something nice, but it was odd when you’d provide them an item much more suited to your strengths than their own. How your eyes would linger a little longer on flowers and lace gloves. But the moment you felt eyes on you, you’d turn away, the distant longing gleam in your eye replaced with a set determination.
He’d even caught you staring at the embroidery on his clothes once or twice.
(“Distracted, are we?”
“I was only wondering what it says. An odd poem for a shirt.”
“Hmph. Clearly it’s meaning is lost on you, darling.”)
So, with 200 years of experience, Astarion came to the only conclusion he could plausibly find. He accounted for your own attire - masculine or purely functional - your steadfast avoidance of anything feminine, the sorrow that visibly washed over you when you came across something particularly beautiful.
You didn’t allow yourself these things, because you couldn’t.
Well, you could, he supposed. But you weren’t. Perhaps, like him, you felt you didn’t deserve it. Or perhaps, like him, it had been ingrained into your very being that you couldn’t have it. Either way, the result was the same.
He wasn’t honestly sure what came over him when he realized. And it had taken him a few days to think about the idea that formulated unbidden, itching at the back of his mind in a way that put the tadpole to shame. But one night, after feeding (on you and a boar), he sat within his tent and got to work. He threaded the eyes of needles with practiced ease, steadily guided it back and forth through the material in his hands, creating elegant shapes. If he was being honest, it was some of his best work.
It took him even longer to gather the nerves to give it to you. You handed out gifts freely - armor, weapons, trinkets, blood. But he’d… well, he’d never really given anyone a gift before. Nothing as genuine as this, certainly. His mind, his own worst enemy aside from Cazador, kept plaguing him with thoughts of how you’d hate it. How you’d take one look at it, struggle through a smile, and tuck it away at the bottom of your bag. And so it remained in his belongings, safely hidden.
And then you just had to go and be so damn good. You just had to stand up to Araj Oblodra when she kept insisting he drink from her. You just had to quietly tell him that he could, if he wanted to, but only if he wanted to. And you just had to respect his choice. He’d never been so overwhelmed with emotion before. Nobody had ever done that for him. His choices didn’t matter, his comfort didn’t matter. But you didn’t even hesitate.
When you sought him out at camp later that night, you even told him he was free. No longer a slave who had to get on his back for mere breadcrumbs. Too many emotions - relief, fear, euphoria, worry, gratefulness - flooded his chest.
He cleared his throat. “There’s actually something I’ve been meaning to give you,” he admits with a nervous chuckle. “Consider it a… thanks, for what you did for me back there.”
He pulled the neat, white handkerchief from his pocket and presented it to you. Red eyes flit over your face, trying to read every little expression that passed, as you stared at the cloth. On the corner, embroidered in the same golden thread as he used on his shirt, were your initials. Immaculate and shiny.
Your mouth opened. Your eyes were wide, your brow furrowed and then raised. You struggled for words. You met his eyes with shock. “A-Are you sure? I mean, this is much too fine for me - I was happy to stand up for you - Not that you needed any help! I mean-”
“Darling,” he hushed. So you did enjoy it, after all. “It’s a gift. Consider it repayment for all the nights you’ve bared your neck for me, if nothing else. A simple exchange.”
A dying sound left your throat with a breath as you looked back down at the handkerchief. With shaky hands, you took it from him. You held it as though it was a religious artifact from the gods, not a folded square of soft silk with lace borders. It had the same smooth feel as running your fingers over the surface of still water. Tears welled at the corner of your eyes as you ran a thumb over the letters.
“I…” You took a shaky breath, looking up at him again through the building water in your eyes. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much it means to me.”
He smirked, though your blatant joy made his lips twitch into the start of a genuine smile. “You… deserve something nice. Something more than, well,” he gestured vaguely at your worn cotton attire, “this.”
You laughed and brushed away the tears beginning to slip down your cheeks with the back of your hands. “You’re still a bastard.”
“Oh, undoubtedly.”
“But a nice bastard.”
“Careful, darling.” He leaned forward with an even wider smirk, fangs peeking out as a mischievous twinkle glinted in his eye. “We wouldn’t want word getting out.”
And if he caught sight of that little cloth poking out from a pocket or resting at the top of your bag, well maybe he let himself enjoy that warmth in his chest.
---
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aphroditelovesu · 9 months
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would you be interested in writing a jake peralta angsts kinda like jake saves reader form something maybe??? if not possibly a yandere? please and thank youuuu
❝👮‍♂️— lady l: it took a while but it came out! I don't have much practice with angst, but I tried it and I hope you like it. Forgive me for mistakes!
❝tw: anxiety, panic attacks, mention of murder, my poor attempt at angst.
❝👮‍♂️pairing: yandere!jake peralta x female!reader
❝—👮‍♂️word count: +1,6k ❝👮‍♂️tag: @flowercrowns-goodvibes
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You were in danger. You were in danger. You were in danger.
Jake's mind was just that, you were in danger and it scared the shit out of him. What had gone wrong? It was supposed to be just a simple undercover mission to catch a powerful drug dealer, but it all ended up going wrong.
What had happened to you?
Jake nearly passed out in panic when Captain Holt told him he'd lost communication with you, a big sign of trouble. You were supposed to be in contact with them all the time, but you stopped communicating and… Now none of them knew what happened to you. Were you alive? Hurt? By God, Jake will kill whoever hurt you, he was sure of it.
''Jakey'' Boyle's voice called to him, Jake looked at his friend and saw the concern on Charles's face. ''We will find her.'' He tried to reassure him, but even Boyle wasn't sure. The chances that you were murdered were high, although you were a well trained detective, there was always the chance, but he would never say that to his best friend. No one would say, everyone knew how obsessed Peralta was with you and knew how he reacted when it came to you.
''We will.'' Jake's voice was serious and full of hate. He was going to find you and he was going to punish the damned criminal who dared to try to hurt you.
Charles nodded and hugged Jake gently who returned the hug, but soon pulled away. ''Holt is trying to locate her and so is Terry. Soon (Y/N) will be with us again.''
Jake nodded calmly and something about that calmness startled Boyle. Why was Jake so calm? He knew his friend and he was scared to ask. Charles was never afraid of his friend, he revered and adored him, but something in Jake's eyes made him afraid. Almost like he was planning something and it wasn't something good.
''I will continue to work on the case. I'm going to visit the crime scene where she disappeared. I need to focus on finding her, because if I don't I am going to freak out.'' Jake finally said more than three words and sat down at his desk, the desk he shared with you. He mumbled something and smiled as he looked at the picture of the two of you together that he had placed next to his computer. You looked so happy.
He tried, he really tried, but he couldn't concentrate. Worry and fear seemed to eat him alive, his heart racing in panic and his mind conjuring up images of what could have happened to you or what you could be having to put up with right now.
Jake cringed as he remembered the gunshots that had echoed through the microphone you had in your ear to keep in touch with the 99.
[..]
You had to come back soon.
Everyone had agreed to that. Jake was freaking out and everyone around him. Nothing seemed to calm him down and the entire police station seemed to be affected by it, hampering the searches.
They all loved you. They were a family and you were a part of it and everyone was worried too.
Captain Holt and Rosa were the calmest ones, or at least they tried to remain calm, but he was also out of their mind with worry. Amy, Terry and Boyle just didn't freak out because they knew it wouldn't help anything, but Jake… Jake looked so distraught that he couldn't eat, drink and couldn't take his face away from the evidence they had found.
After searching the crime scene, they were able to find a few things that could lead to you. Or at least that's what they hoped, but Jake wasn't going to sit around waiting for the lab results.
Time was crucial and he wasn't going to waste it. Not when your life was in danger.
So he made a decision. A decision he knew he could regret for the rest of his life, but it wouldn't matter, not when he had you safe and sound in his arms again.
Jake sighed at the thought of the phone call he had received an hour ago and he felt trapped. The deal he had accepted was dangerous, but that was all for you.
''Jake was sitting at his desk, hunched over it, repeatedly reading the files on the drug dealer who had you. His name was Maximus Rodriguez, a notorious drug lord who had his petty dealers act for him and he had you. Jake clenched his fist in anger at the thought. Fuck.
Maximus was dead and so was his entire operation.
He grabbed his cell phone when it started to ring, an unknown number popping up on the screen. He frowned but accepted the call and a high pitched voice began to speak.
''Detective Peralta. What a pleasure.'' The voice said bored. ''Looking for your sweetheart?''
''Who is it?'' Jake asked irritably.
''You don't need to know my name. Yet. But you can call me Maury. I have information that I believe may be of interest to you.''
''Information?'' Jake was attentive. It was obvious this was about you and he was so desperate he would do anything to get you back.
''I know where your precious (Y/N) is being held and I know who her captors are.'' Maury said and Jake was sure the man was smiling.
''… What do you want in return?''
''Straight to the point? I liked. No big deal, I want you to agree to do a simple job for me in exchange for getting your (Y/N) back. Sounds fair to me.''
''What kind of work?'' Jake questioned suspiciously.
''You'll find out when the time comes. Do you accept?'' Jake mumbled a drawling ''yes''. ''Very good. Now pay attention…''
Jake knew where you were and had informed Holt that he had started to prepare to break in. He was asked how he got to know where you were, but Jake lied saying that the drug dealer's criminal record had hidden and useful information.
Nobody questioned him. They didn't believe it, of course, but Jake's look of despair and hatred was so great that they didn't dare question it further.
The focus was on bringing (Y/N) back. All that mattered now was her and he was willing to do anything to get her back.
[…]
The cops were in place and the SWAT team was preparing to break into the warehouse where (Y/N) was apparently being held. They were preparing for an ambush. It's always good to be prepared for anything and Holt had his detectives ready in case something goes wrong. It was a dangerous rescue mission, but everyone would do their best to retrieve (Y/N).
''We're going to count to 10 and go inside. Get ready.'' Holt said, getting into position.
''Right. Let's get on with it.'' Rosa grumbled and grabbed her gun, bracing herself for the chaos that could ensue.
''1, 2, 3…'' Holt started counting and everyone got into their agreed positions. Jake was by the door with one of the SWAT guys and he was shaking with anxiety and rage. ''…9, 10!''
The door was broken down and the police entered the warehouse. They were prepared for a firefight or something, but none of it came. They looked around and Jake sobbed when he saw you. You were tied to a chair, gagged and looking at them in fear and relief.
''Take a look around.'' Holt commanded and the others obeyed. Jake and he came running to you, pulling the ropes and gag out of your mouth.
As soon as you were released, you found yourself hugged tightly by Jake, who began to shed tears of relief onto your shoulder. ''You're alive…'' He sobbed and looked at your bruised face. Yours lip was a little swollen and there were small cuts on your cheek. Jake kissed your cheek gently, not wanting to aggravate any injuries.
Jake didn't let go of you for the next few minutes, clinging to you and whimpering. You didn't let go either. Finally relieved to see him again. Not when you feared you might never see him again and just the thought of it made you grip tighter.
A team of paramedics arrived to assess you and you were taken to the ambulance, where they treated you. Jake, of course, didn't leave your side, eyeing the paramedics suspiciously. You squeezed his hand gently and he kissed your head.
''I was so scared…'' Jake muttered, squeezing her hand tightly.
''Me too…'' You said, lightly stroking Jake's hand with your loose fingers.
''I'm never going to let you out of my sight again, understand?'' He was scared, very afraid that something like that would happen again and he wouldn't let it. He would hunt down your captors and kill them one by one. You would never be taken from him again.
''I love you.'' He uttered and you smiled, he bent down and placed a light kiss on your lips, very carefully to not hurt you.
''I love you too, you idiot.'' You laughed and laid your head against his shoulder as Jake sat down next to you.
Jake finally felt calm, you were where you belonged, beside him. He would find the bastards who hurt you and they would regret ever being born. He kissed your forehead gently. You were everything to him.
He knew he had to keep his end of the bargain, but he'd think about that later. You were more important and he would deal with the consequences later.
''I won't let anyone hurt you again.'' Jake swore, looking into your eyes deeply and you knew he wasn't lying.
It was a promise. An oath.
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plentyoffandoms · 1 year
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Hey gal, I hope you’re having a happy Tuesday! 🥳If you have the time and you’re taking requests, please could I get your take on Javi x fem.
She finds out she’s having a baby a couple of weeks before a huge raid and actively tries everything to avoid Javi. During the raid she gets cornered by one of Pablo’s guys and absolutely terrified screams “I’m pregnant, I’m pregnant” Javi and Steve hear over the radio, his head frantically snaps up and he takes off running to find her, Steve not far behind + the aftermath. Thank you 🥹
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Javier Peña x f/Reader
Main Masterlist ♡ TV Shows Masterlist ♡ Miscellaneous TV Shows Masterlist ♡ Pedro Pascal Masterlist
Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.
I do not speak Spanish nor I am going to try to. I have no urge to try and butcher another language. So Spanish will be in ITALICS.
Gifs & photos do not belong to me. 1st gif @pedrorascal 2nd gif @hunterschafer 3rd @nicolethered
Warnings: Swearing
WC: 2273
And a happy Saturday to you! I am sorry this has taken me so long to get out. I really hope you like it. This is my first time writing for Javier so I hope I do well. 💜
Summary: f/Reader & Javier have been sleeping together. At first, it started as stress relief from their jobs at the DEA, but f/Reader ends up pregnant & keeps it from him. Javier finds out during the worst possible time.
YN'S POV:
I have never been more thankful than I am right now to be one of the few women working in the DEA. I get to have the washroom all to myself as I am throwing up the very small breakfast I had.
I threw that up a few hours ago, at this point I have no idea what the hell I am throwing up.
I cleaned my face up and popped a piece of gum into my mouth, hoping that it will do the job of getting rid of my puke breath.
"You okay YN?" Steve asked me as I sat down at my desk, which was beside his.
"Yeah, I am good. I think I just had one too many last night." I told him as I lied through my teeth. He just smiled and shook his head at me, muttering "You never could handle your alcohol."
While Steve was making fun of me for being a lightweight, Javier was looking at me over the top of his newspaper.
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I didn't bother to look at him. Not when it was just only a few days ago that he had me once again crying out his name as he used his sexual talents to bring me so much damn pleasure that I had no idea could happen before I met him.
He knows with one nod of his head, I would be meeting him in the washroom that the other DEA members refuse to use for some reason.
But only after a few hours of going through boring paperwork, I felt the urge to throw up again. Since this is the fourth time today, I knew I had to get looked at.
I decided to head out early and told my boss that I had to leave due to not feeling well. At first, he didn't want me to leave and refused, but I told him the next time I had to puke, I would make sure to do it all over his expensive shoes.
He let me go after that.
I got in my car and headed home when I was stopped at a red light. As I sat in my car, waiting for the light to change, a pregnant woman walked by.
It suddenly dawned on me.
My period is late. Extremely late.
The random puking happening at all hours.
Certain smells making me nauseous.
Oh, fuck me.
I'm pregnant.
A horn from the car behind me startled me. I noticed the light was green and I floored it. I had to find the nearest clinic and get proof.
It took me a bit to find one, but when I did, I felt like I was in a daze as I filled out the form.
That feeling never went away as I sat there, or when my name finally got called.
I did the test and told the Doctor my symptoms. I got sent home as they had to wait a couple of days to get the test results.
I was told to come back on Tuesday and I will find out then. I knew deep down inside I didn't have to wait until Tuesday to know whether I am or not.
I called out of work saying I came down with some stomach bug and that I will be back in a few days. I waited patiently at my place. Kept myself occupied with TV, catching up on some much-needed sleep and reading.
Then Tuesday finally rolled around and I made my way to the Clinic. I had my hands placed on my lap to stop myself from fidgeting.
"YN LN?"
I stood up and followed the nurse to the room. I waited in the warm room to find out if I was pregnant.
"YN?"
"Yes, Doctor."
"We have your results and you are pregnant. I would say you are about 6, 7 weeks along."
His voice faded into the background as this became all too real. I am pregnant with Javier Peña's baby.
The same man who doesn't want a relationship with anyone and who has announced more times than I can count that he doesn't want kids.
How the hell did this even happen? We always used protection.
Then it dawned on me, we didn't have anything twice and he swore to pull out, but the one night when we both had a bit too much to drink, he didn't pull out in time.
I left the clinic and went home, trying to decide what I should do. I already knew I couldn't give up this baby, but my dilemma was how I should tell Javier.
What the hell am I supposed to do?
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Javier Peña's POV:
Three weeks.
Three fuckin' weeks since I have talked to YN. First, she went off sick due to some stomach bug and she was gone less than a week.
She came back and she was normal with Steve. Talking and catching up on what she has missed.
But me?
I say her name and she turns the other way or talks to someone else. She is ignoring my calls and when I have shown up at her place to try and talk to her, she doesn't answer the door.
What the hell did I do to her?
This has been eating away at me and has been pissing me off so much that I have taken it out on anyone who got in my way.
"What the hell crawled up your ass Javier?" Steve said as I slammed my mug down.
"None of your concern," I grumbled.
"Something is going on between YN and you. I have seen it these last couple of weeks. Work it out before we head out to this raid or get your head out of your ass."
I was going to say something smart when he walked away from me towards the debriefing room.
I took a few deep breaths and just tried to focus all my energy on this raid.
But then I saw YN out of the corner of my eye and she was talking with one of the new guys. I haven't learned his name because frankly, I didn't care to know it.
But I can see how he is flirting with her and I can feel myself getting angry. He placed his hand on her hand, which was sitting on the table in front of them.
But the anger slowly faded away when I saw her look down at his hand on top of hers, she smiled softly and moved her hand away.
"We are all here? Good, now listen."
I turned my attention towards the briefing, trying to take in the layout of the building we will be going into. How many men will be there, etc, etc.
~
Usually, YN would come with Murph and me, but not this time. I have no idea who she went with and it is making me sick to my stomach.
Even before started to sleep together, I always made sure to keep an eye on YN during our raids. I was drawn to her from the very beginning and I pushed my feelings aside for her and we became friends with benefits.
I haven't been with anyone else since we started and these last few weeks, not waking up beside her. Not spending our alone time together has been driving me crazy.
"You able to talk to her?"
"Nope." That was all he got out of me. I mean I tried, but she just pretended she didn't hear me.
We waited for our cue to go inside and I saw YN as she was running to get into position, also waiting for the cue.
We were all silent and then we got the go-ahead. There were shots fired and smoke in the air. There was so much commotion and noise that I could hardly focus on anyone else.
That was until I heard over the radio, YN screaming out in Spanish, "I'M PREGNANT, I'M PREGNANT!"
I snapped my head up and looked at Steve. I didn't wait for him as I went off to find YN.
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YN'S POV:
I know he is hurting. Every single time I ignore him or turn my back away from him, I can feel his eyes staring at me. Like he is looking into my soul.
But I still have no idea how to tell him.
How am I supposed to let him know that I am pregnant with his baby? That I am going to keep it whether he wants me to or not? That after this raid I plan on going home to work some desk job and try to stay away from the danger.
To be away from him because I know he won't want to leave Columbia. Not until he feels like his work is done and it never will be.
But as I was checking the backrooms, making sure they were clear, I realised I wasn't alone. I heard the sound of a gun cocking and I was told to drop my gun.
I dropped my gun and turned around, but I must have been moving too fast for this henchman of Pablo's because he slapped my face with the handle of his gun. I covered my stomach as I screamed out, "I'M PREGNANT, I'M PREGNANT!"
But that didn't seem to matter to him. A sick smile came over his face and he told me he was going to have lots of fun with me.
I didn't hear the footsteps come running towards us, but I heard the gunshot. I felt the blood splatter across my face and the guy fell to the ground.
I looked up and saw Javi standing there and Steve came rushing into the room, to make sure the guy was dead and to see if there was any identification on him, but Javier's focus was on me.
I crumbled to the ground as this all became too much for me, but I wasn't alone for long.
Javier got on the ground next to me and pulled me into his lap. I couldn't stop crying and he just held me through the tears.
Steve left the two of us alone until it was time for us to go. He found Javi and me still in the same room, with me in his lap.
The three of us walked out of the building, past many of our coworkers who heard me shout out over the radio that I was pregnant.
The car ride back to HQ was quiet. I got out of the car before them and went to go to the washroom.
The same one where Javier and I used to meet up, I knew he wouldn't be that far behind me.
I was gripping the sink, with my head down as he barged into the room. I was waiting for him to scream at me. To yell at me. Anything really, but he didn't.
All he said to me was, "Why?" My head snapped up and I turned to face him. "Why what?" I asked him.
"Why did you put your life and our baby's lives at risk?"
"No one knew I was pregnant and this is my job, Peña."
"So it is Peña now? Look YN, you were foolish and downright stupid today." He was getting angrier and angrier as he walked towards me.
"Fuck you, Javier. Fuck you." How dare he?
"You have already done that sweetheart." The smirk that came across his face, I wanted to slap off and I raised my hand to slap it off of his face when he caught my hand in his.
"I could have lost you today YN. Fuck, hearing your terrified screams made my blood run cold. I could have lost you without actually telling you how I feel."
"And how do you feel?"
"That I can't stand to be without you by my side another day. That I love you and these last few weeks without hearing you say my name or waking up next to me has been killing me."
"Who knew Javier Peña was a romantic?" I joked.
"Had to find the right woman YN."
"And me being pregnant?"
"Hmm, well I haven't had sex with a pregnant woman before. That means your boobs are gonna get bigger." He said to me with a giddy smile as he wrapped his arms around me.
I jokingly pushed away from him for that comment but he just pulled me closer to him.
He brought his lips to mine and we finally kissed after almost a month or so.
"I love you YN." He said as he pulled his lips away and leaned his forward against mine.
"I love you too Javi."
"Oh and you are getting a desk job. No more fieldwork for you."
"I already planned on it. Well, I was gonna go home but I guess I can stay here and work."
"Starting tomorrow." He said to me with a serious look.
"I'll talk to the boss and get assigned desk duty." His shoulders relaxed.
"Good, now how far along are you?" He asked me as we left the washroom.
"About 10 weeks give or take."
"What?" He stopped.
"Yeah around two and a half months."
His mouth opened and closed.
"Did you break him?" Steve asked as he stepped next to me.
"I think so."
"Congratulations to the both of you. I am sure once he stops malfunctioning we can go out and celebrate."
I laughed with Steve as I looked at Javi. I think the two of us will be just fine.
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princesachicana · 1 year
Text
𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐭.𝟑 (conrad fisher x reader)
description: a doctors visit, mood swings and a realization.
a/n: you are adopted in this fic! anyone could read!
𝐩𝐭.𝟏 𝐩𝐭.𝟐
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The smell of the sanitized doctor’s office makes you want to puke. Or maybe that’s just your nerves? This appointment was so last minute it was hard getting a time in. Thankfully they just hired a new doctor that specializes in obgyn practices. “I’m so nervous.” You admit after a long moment of silence. Conrad squeezes your hand into his palm. “So am i.” He mumbles turning his head towards you, looking concerned. You lean towards him leaving a chaste kiss onto his cheek to calm his nerves. The smile he gives you after makes your heart smile.
Looking around the waiting room you notice the vary of different patients. Some regular patients getting check-ups, Some here to see the pediatrician with their children. And the couples who are visibly here also for the OBGYN. They are obviously far more into their pregnancy than you are that’s for certain. They all have this look of happiness and joy, excited for the new addition to their families. And you can’t help but think will you and Conrad ever be like that?
This pregnancy hasn’t brought much excitement. The only feelings it’s brought so far are anxiety, fear and disappointment. Seeing the disappointment on your families faces cut deep. You know for sure it hurt Conrad as well. Steven still refuses to talk to the both of you after the whole reveal a week ago. You cried into Conrad’s arms just last night, you couldn’t help but think Steven hated you again. Just like he did when you both were younger. He was once again making you feel like the unwanted adoptive sister.
“Y/n Conklin?” The back door opened revealing a nurse with beach blonde hair, she held a clipboard in her hand reading off your name. Conrad was the first to stand up. He immediately noticed your apprehension and held out his hand towards you. “I got you” he whispers voice full of tenderness. You accept his hand with a hesitant smile standing up a little to quickly you feel dizzy. Just this morning you were extremely sick. This morning sickness would really be the death of you. But at the same time having Conrad there rubbing your back somewhat made it worth it.
Once you and Conrad both made it to the back of the doctors office the nurse instructed you to follow her. “Okay so I have you down for the OB right?” She smiles looking back at you and Conrad as she rounds a corner. “Uhh…yeah..yes” You answered almost unsure. Damn your mom. Laurel thought that it was a good idea sending both you and Conrad inside alone. You were always used to having your mom at doctors appointments no matter what. Susannah also agreed that it would be a good first step at being independent.
“Okay I’m just gonna have you step onto the scale, first it’s just easy stuff like getting your vitals.” The nurse assured you with a comforting smile. You nodded your head mumbling an “okay” you passed your purse to Conrad to hold as you stepped onto the scale. “Do we know how far along you are into your pregnancy?” The nurse started typing down notes in her i pad. “I’d probably say like a month? six weeks?” You answered, fingers nervously playing with the chipped nail polish. She nodded telling you to sit beside her in the chair, where she would check your blood pressure.
“I know this whole thing is nerve wracking but…I promise everything is going to work out.” It was silent for a moment as the machine squeezed your arm. This was always your least favorite part about going to the doctors. You’ve never been good at staying still and you felt if you moved you would ruin the results. You took a deep breath glancing at Conrad. “She’s right everything’s gonna be okay.” Conrad leaned down placing a kiss onto your forehead. Oh gosh now you were smiling like a little school girl. You and Conrad weren’t “officially” together or dating yet.
Although it was known to pretty much everyone by now that you were only interested in each other. The lines of your relationship were running very thin, especially now. Here you were pregnant with his baby, you slept in each other’s arms almost every night. Your hands lingered on each other’s body longer than usual. And most importantly you were both head over heels for the other, yet you still haven’t had the whole boyfriend-girlfriend conversation. Your thoughts are interrupted by Conrad taking your hand into his. Once again following the nurse who walked down the narrow hallway.
~
This doctor was so mean. That’s what you gathered so far. This was definitely the last time you were gonna be seeing her. You didn’t care if you would have to put up a fight with your mom! You would be getting a new doctor as soon as possible. The judgmental looks and snide remarks she was making hurt. Conrad was just as frustrated and angry about the whole situation. This doctor even went as far as saying she’d “move to South America if you were my daughter.” You know that saying “You never really know how it feels until your in their shoes” that was becoming your reality.
Back home you’ve gone to school with a few girls who fell pregnant also. You would take notice of how badly the school treated them. The disapproval evident on all the teachers faces as the girls passed by in the hall way, their bumps being somewhat hidden under sweatshirts and jackets. The name calling from fellow students, the babies fathers acting as if they didn’t care about their girlfriends or even the baby she was carrying.
You of course were never one of the ones who’ve judged young teen moms, in fact you had become somewhat friends with some of them. Alicia had been one of those girls. It was in gym where you first met her, it was dodgeball day and you didn’t want to participate because you were on your period. Your coach was a guy so he waved you off when you first told him that you wanted to sit out due to “lady problems.” She had been peppy, speaking to you first one of the most friendliest person you’ve ever came in contact with. You both secretly shared a bag of sour patch kids (her craving) while the others played dodgeball.
She opened up to you about how everyone treated her differently now that she was pregnant. How her boyfriend didn’t want anything to do with her or his unborn child. How her parents were forcing her out the house immediately after the baby was born. Or how the school kicked her off the debate team because “a pregnant girl” didn’t fit their standards.
And as you sit there in the doctors office blinking back tears. Just from some ugly looks and nasty remarks from a doctor you know this is just the beginning.
~
“You really put this little blob thing inside me!” You held the ultrasound in disbelief. “No, we put that little blob thing inside you.” Conrad leaned in from his side of the couch. “In fact, if I remember it clearly you were more than willing to help.” Your breath hitched when he gripped your hips lifting you up so you were seated on his lap. “Well you were pretty persuasive!” You giggled shifting a little on his lap. This causes Conrad to groan mumbling a little “fuck.” You were aware of his current predicament at the moment, he had a boner. “You’re such a guy.” You leaned in pecking him on the cheek. “And you’re a tease what are we in fifth grade? give me a real kiss.”
Conrad kisses you, and the moment his lips are against yours you melt. Intoxicating, that’s one word to describe how kissing Conrad felt. It’s almost as if he was pouring all of his love and care for you into it every time. You moved your hips in rhythm with y’all’s heavy breathing, if there was one thing that’s changed with this pregnancy it was your sex drive. You wanted it every damn day no matter where or what time it was. “If you keep moving like that…you’re going to get yourself fucked on my mom’s couch.” He mumbled against your lips. “I think I’d actually like-“ you didn’t get to finish your sentence because the front door was swinging open.
You frantically moved off ofConrad’s lap adjusting your clothes that Conrad rumpled due to him exploring your body with his hands. “I’ve been trying to call you!” Your mom walked into the beach house with a worried expression on her face. “I’m sorry my phones dead and we just got back.” You quickly answered with a hesitant smile. “Oh, well I just wanted to ask you how was the appointment.” You dramatically stood up “It was horrible mom I need a new doctor, she was disrespectful right Conrad?” You turned to him. He nodded his head almost comically, you noticed a pillow over his crotch and immediately knew why he couldn’t answer with words.
“She was extremely judgmental! made me feel so uncomfortable.” You turned your attention back towards your mother. “What she say?” You continue on a full on rant about how this doctor trip was a disaster. You tell her about the looks you got, the little comments made about you and Conrad being young. “The nurse was nice though.” Conrad spoke for the first time in a couple of minutes. The painful boner you’d given him now thankfully gone. “Thank you Conrad, for seeing the positive side of something.” Your mom smiled fondly at him.
You could feel the annoyance brewing right at the pit of your belly. These past few weeks any little thing made you annoyed and irritated. So with a huff you walked right out the room muttering a “whatever.” You hated when people went against you, well Conrad didn’t exactly “go against you.” but you were sorta hoping he’d back you up with this. Both Conrad and your mom flinched when they heard your bedroom door slam. “You ready for nine months of that?” Laurel let out a little laugh.
Conrad nodded his head “She cried today because I forgot her tater tots.” Conrad had made an effort not to laugh in front of you earlier. It was as if it was the end of the world when you realized your tater tots weren’t in the fast food bag. “Pregnant women don’t play about their food conrad!” Laurel defend her daughter as she silently laughed. “I made it up to her i promise” Conrad whispered. “Was the doctor really that bad?” Laurel asked after a moment. “Oh definitely” Laurel sighed loudly “I’ll find her another one. her reviews were good online!” Conrad forced a little smile “I don’t think those were teen parents though.” Conrad stood up “I think i should go talk to her.” Laurel nodded “Maybe take her some Oreos?”
“Good idea!”
~
The sound of the door opening makes you snuggle even deeper into the covers. “I come in peace with Oreos!” Conrad’s chuckle makes you smile. If there’s one thing you can count on through this pregnancy it’s Conrad. He’s helped with the morning sickness, the back pain, he didn’t take your mood swings personal. Conrad Fisher was the partner every pregnant girl needed.
“Are they double stuffed?” You immediately sat up in bed. “Of course love.” Conrad takes a seat next to you placing a gentle kiss onto your lips. “Don’t look so sad, your moms getting you a new doctor.” Your eyes start to water and you let out a groan. “Thank goodness, and I hate that I’m crying!” You take a deep breath as Conrad wraps his arms around you. “It feels like I can’t even control my emotions It scares me!”
“And now my brother hates me!” It hurts even saying those words but you know it’s true. “He doesn’t, he hates me.” Conrad whispers thinking back onto his fight with your brother. “He won’t even look at me, I just miss my brother!” You sniffle, burying your face into Conrad’s neck.
And at that moment Conrad’s determined to make shit right with Your brother. Whether Steven likes it or not.
Tags: @gillybear17 @snowsharkk @tessastle @conradsupporterr @alyssa-cabrera @eranthisphiny @xoxoloverb @lostaurorax @lanisdreams @alexzluvz @lalaland-notfound @liltimmyst @unsaidjaelineose @buckys2thicc @lilygreennn @t8lzw @medusaslilsister @1-800-stilinski @yazmi710 @j-brielmalfoy @ashcannotwrite @colbysbrocks @exonct07 @multilover19 @mimisparkle12
@littlefreaksatellite @vintagebitc @lexi-2004 @melllinaa @xcallmetaniax @brizzlessizzler @haroldpotterson @livinginaglasspalace @delicatekidpeanut @queenanababy @drinkawinchester @sarahbutnot @salvatoremikaelson54 @furiouscopsherduniversity @marrigold-2002 @angeliquelunasstuff @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @daphnen21
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chrollohearttags · 1 year
Text
anxiety | e. jaeger x black fem reader
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“…I just want to talk to somebody that gets me..”
synopsis: a patient suffering from a rare illness finds solace in an unlikely companion, resulting in a friendship and maybe even more.
cw: heavy angst, eren is a nursing student, (he’s a bit of a smartass too, as well as has his own sickness) chronically ill patient reader, (has both mental/physical illnesses), mentions of BPD, anxiety, etc, reader being kind of mean, mentions of self harm, comfort, kissing, hand holding, light mentions of sex and virginity, playful banter between reader and eren
📝: yes, this is kinda based off of Megan’s song, yes, I am okay, I promise. I just wanted to test myself again and since this was like one of my favorite AU’s on WattPad, I wanted to revisit it. (with a bit of a twist this time)
room 403: the very last one to sit at the end of the sixth floor hallway..the desolate, isolated area housed behind the off white walls of Southern Memorial Hospital. Where quality and compassion came first. Where patients were handled with the utmost care. And where (y/n) (l/n) had spent the better part of four months, confined to a bed and clinging to hope that you’d someday get out. However, fate was a cruel bitch that found enjoyment laughing in your face..unfortunately, this wasn’t your first stint as a resident here. In fact, you had been in and out of for a couple years now. Constantly coming back due to some new mystery symptom of your long running sickness. Some strange autoimmune disorder that kept you planted to this hard mattress and prevented you from knowing true happiness. It was a damn shame really..here you were spending the supposed best years of your young life chained to this hellish place. While peers were out attending concerts, going to college, working and even delving into dating for the first time, you were forced to listen to the sounds of beeping machinery and buzzing equipment. The closest you’d get to a cocktail was the disgusting combo of medications administered through your IV every night. You hated it! Hated all of it…this hospital, this illness…your body and all of the people here. Speaking to you as if you were a fucking child with no common sense. Showing pity and giving praise where it wasn’t deserved..you just wanted to haul off and punch one of those condescending bitches. However, there was one person in this godforsaken place that did make it a bit more tolerable..
“You better not be asleep. I just got here.” Yes, the one annoying voice in this entire hospital that you could stand. You could hear it outside the door of your secluded space. A single curtain shielding you from view as they entered. As always, you were perched upright against your pillows, glaring out of the window to a life you only wished you’d known..by now, it was getting pretty late and the once bright sunny skies had dimmed to a purple darkness with stars beginning to litter the view. “Then just leave. I’m tired.” Just then, the cloth partition would pull back and you’d be met with a very familiar face. Those sharp green eyes staring directly at and through you like always, long brown hair tied into a bun of some sort and those signature blue scrubs from the city’s premier nursing program. On the name badge? One you’d never forget for as long as you lived. “What do you want, Eren? Don’t you have a job to do? I’m pretty sure annoying me is not a part of the description.” Dismissing the brunette without so much as a full glance in his direction. Oh, but he saw right through you. Peered through to your soul like looking through a this sheet of glass…it pissed you off so badly! “For it to be a job, they’d have to pay me. Credit hours don’t pay my bills so I’ll do as I please until then. Besides, they love me too much to get rid of me. And you do too, so hush.” Anyone else would’ve been off put by your rather crass personality but him? He thoroughly enjoyed it and instead, took a seat at the foot of your bed, plopping down with a bag in hand. Bopping your nose with his fingertip.
“But since you’re being a brat, I guess I’ll eat these cupcakes by myself then.” it was the only thing that grabbed your attention as he knew you had an affinity for all things sweets. One of the very rare things you’d consume that didn’t make you feel sick to your stomach. Bitter hospital food tended to linger on your tongue for a while so it was nice to have something that cleansed the palette. Shifting in your seat, arms barred against your chest, (y/n) gave a side eye before tugging the bag. “You’re a type one diabetic, don’t be stupid.” retorting before retrieving one of the treats from the bag and tossing it back. “And you’re nosy.” Maybe it was part of the reason why you guys got along so well. As someone who suffered from a lifelong disease himself, he knew your pain all too well. That and he was a complete, total jackass. Without changing word, he’d grab the other and the the two of you would indulge in the delicacies as you spoke about your day. He told you about how he had an upcoming exam..one that would get him one step closer to the infamous N-CLEX. it brought back memories..as you had once pursued the degree yourself before falling too sick to even sit up in a classroom. But that bountiful knowledge bank of a brain never quite rid of that information. So I’m exchange for snacks and company, you pass on some of it to him, along with tips to ace those difficult tests. “So you think you can pass it?” questioning through a semi stuffed mouth; a hand covering it to prevent crumbs from spilling out. To which he’d nod his head, wiping away small remnants of frosting around his lips. “God, I hope so. My pops will never let me hear the end of it if I don’t. Hell, he might put me out, knowing him.” You wanted to laugh but you knew he wasn’t exaggerating. Eren had big shoes to fill, considering that he was not only a lovable goofball but the son of a prominent physician, Dr. Jaeger. Who oversaw the sister hospital to this one and because of that, his two kids got no break from him. Having been preceded by his older brother, who already was working towards his doctorates, he had no other choice but to be a success as well. You knew he studied hard, which is why you rooted for him secretly. “Don’t sweat too much. You’ll be fine, I promise.” the words sounded well enough but only time would tell if he could. But if they were from your own admission, he felt much better about it.
as for you on the other hand, another important test was fast approaching. One that was impending your entire future and he was aware of what it could mean.. “..what about you?” the simple question, loaded with complex emotions and feelings. Ones smeared all across his face because truthfully, he was as terrified as you were. “What about me? I’m fine..” You had confided in Eren about your condition..how it had worsened and what the doctors said. At first, it could’ve been attributed to poor mental health, as he and everyone else were privy to your past struggles. Aware of the scars plaguing your arms; now concealed by bandages and your flippant behavior that followed. You’d constantly tell your care team that something felt off and they never believed you. They all but dismissed you and told you it was all in your head. That was until you collapsed one day outside of the student center while walking to class and nearly hit your head. Luckily, someone was there to help and it was none other than this doofus. The one friend you had in this fickle world. Needless to say, he had been following your medical mystery as closely as you were..hoping for a better outcome. As it stood, you’d be all but bedridden in the next six months if things didn’t change. So tomorrow, you’d be undergoing a biopsy to determine what was causing it and have the results back in a few days. Was it cancer? Was it something else?..time would only tell but you were growing far more anxious by the minute; even if you used anger to mask it. “You’re as terrible of a liar as you are beautiful, (y/n). Look, it’s fine to be scared. Hell, I’m scared for you but don’t let this beat you, alright? They’ll figure out what’s wrong, kick its ass and have you out of here.” His words sounded hopeful, full of encouragement but you couldn’t be vexed to buy them right now. Your life was dangling in the balance. Hanging by a minute thread… “..and you’re as optimistic as you are stupid. Truth is, I’m dying..” the statements sending shockwaves throughout his body. The possibility of losing you chilled him to his core. “Don’t say shit like that—“ “it’s true, alright? I’ll never see the outside of this damn room ever again. I’ll never graduate college, go on a date, have my first kiss or even have sex for the first time..I’m gonna die here and there’s nothing I can do about it..” in that moment, tears began to trickle down your face and your voice cracked. Something about saying it all aloud made it all real. Twisting your head away, you’d try to conceal that crying but he knew better. It took everything in his own power not to become emotional.
suddenly, you’d feel a hand placed atop your own and your head twisted until your lips were locked with his. He knew it was wrong..knew that if for any reason, someone were to walk through those doors, he’d be kicked out with no exceptions. But the thought of seeing you upset made him act on instinct. That and the fact he’d waited for so long to do that..but you didn’t break it! Rather, you’d deepen the peck; pressing your plump lips further into his own and intertwining his pale fingers with your dark hued digits. It lasted for what felt like minutes but when you both pulled away… “I’m sorry…I just..” “..don’t be.”
it was exactly what you needed. Something to ease the pain that medicine couldn’t solve..for now, he’d keep holding you close and letting you sob into his shoulder blade. He knew it couldn’t have been easy but he’d do everything in his power to try and absolve your hurt, even if it meant letting you use him as a punching bag. His large arms cradled around you for the utmost comfort and you’d never felt better than in that moment. “I’m scared, Eren. I’m really fucking scared…I’m too young to be going through this. I want to live..” having to keep his own head tilted up to avoid letting tears fall; swallowing the hard lump in his throat as to not get choked up. He wished that he could trade places, make it all go away. Maybe if he were smarter, he could cure it for you..but sadly, the best he could do right now was this very thing. And it was enough for you..“I know..but it’ll be okay. It has to be.” Because truth be told, you couldn’t leave him just yet. He couldn’t let you depart from his life..
not until he was able to say.. ‘I love you.’
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dutchsbigolhands · 11 months
Note
Jealous sex with javier escuella x fem reader?please:)
Eres Mío
summary: You were flirting with other men at the bar to see if you could get a rise out of Javier... turns out you could, but not without consequences.
Word count: 1.9k
Tags: nsfw, 18+, smut, rough sex, jealous sex, fingering, overstimulation, lovebites/hickeys/marks, choking, slight breathplay, degradation, dom/sub undertones
A/N: Thanks so much for the request anon! I had a lot of fun writing it even though I'm not super happy with the result (I probably wouldn't be regardless of how good it was gshfsdf). But I hope you enjoy! It ended up being much rougher than I had first anticipated.... but maybe that's a good thing??
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You truly didn’t know what you’d gotten yourself into. At the start, you were just messing with him. You’d bat your eyelashes endearingly at a stranger just to see his face harden. At some point you’d gotten addicted to seeing him like that, so it escalated until several men had fallen under your spell. There was a sort of thrill you got from glancing at his stoic face across the bar, struggling to keep his composure. He was always so good at keeping it, you’d never expected him to lose it.
When you went to glance at him for the last time, he was approaching you quickly. You didn’t have a chance to say a word before he all but dragged you away from your stranger of choice with a strong grip on your arm. When the man dared to protest, Javier snapped back at him, pulling a knife to his throat and threatening him in his native tongue. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen him so angry before.
The man was twice his size, but Javier didn’t waiver. His strong words and piercing look caused the man to eventually back off. The bar was near silent as he pulled you out by the arm and to your horses. Your pulse drummed loudly against your neck as you rode in silence back to the temporary camp you’d set up nearby for just the two of you. 
When you finally arrived, he didn’t waste any time. You’d barely touched the ground before he’d pulled you in by your waist, lips clashing against yours. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but a heated kiss was not it.
“What were you thinking?” He grumbled, breaking away from you. It wasn’t long before he had your back against the blanket covering the ground of your tent. Your lips struggled to keep up with his as he seemed to want to swallow you whole.
“Javi…” you breathed, feeling his lips trail across your jaw, then down to your neck. He nipped at your skin and your fingers intertwined with his hair, pulling desperately the strands at each graze of his teeth.
He shuddered, pulling back. In a swift motion, he gathered both of your wrists into his hand and pinned them above your head. 
“You upset me tonight, cariño,” he muttered, leaning back into your neck. You squirmed against him, wrists immobile against his strong grasp. He took a patch of skin into his mouth, sucking hard, and pulling a dark purple mark to the surface. “I want you to be mine.”
“I am,” you whined. He shook his head, still in the crook of your neck.
“You surely didn’t act like it,” he said, spite tainting his usual smooth tone. “You were sweet with just about every man in that damn bar.”
You could only whimper in response, feeling another mark being made on your neck.
“By the time I’m done with you, you won’t be able to think of anyone else,” he muttered into your neck. You whined, squirming against him. You were desperate to hold onto him as he continued to decorate your neck with more marks. “And no one will want to play with a lady who’s been marked up will they?”
He dragged his lips loosely over his work before releasing your wrists and sitting back a bit. He began undoing the buttons of your shirt, grumbling in frustration when they didn’t cooperate with his eager hands. With a growl, he yanked the shirt apart, pulling some of the buttons out in the process. You were now down to your loose undergarment, but at the loss of a perfectly good shirt.
“Javi…” you groaned, aggravated he would be so desperate as to ruin your clothes.
“Hush,” he snapped. “I don’t plan on being careful with you.” He pulled the shirt past your shoulders and you sat up to let him pull it the rest of the way off. He threw it to the side, letting it be forgotten. Your undergarment was next as he fought with the fabric to get it up over your head. It joined the forgotten pile to the side as he pinned you back down and continued his pursuit of marking you up.
He’d moved away from your neck, down to your collar bone then to your breasts, leaving a trail of purple spots in his wake. He took his time, letting you squirm under him as he left mark after mark on you. He soon took one of your nipples into his mouth, teasing the bud with his teeth. You sucked in a sharp breath, the sudden stimulation startling.
He teased one breast with his mouth while his hand took care of the other, rolling the sensitive bud in his fingertips. He was already making a mess of you as your mouth hung open, taking panting breaths. You tried winding your fingers into his hair again, seeing if he’d even notice.
He hissed and pulled away from your breasts. He furrowed his dark eyebrows at you.
“You’ve lost that privilege, mija,” he growled. He took this moment to remove his own shirt and you had to fight the urge to rake your fingernails over his chest as you’d done before. You grunted, willing your hands to stay by your sides as he returned to you.
He continued his pursuit down your body, adding more marks to your breasts and stomach. You were becoming desperate for him as you kept bucking your hips upwards.
“What’re you so needy for, huh?” He pulled away from your body. “Need me to fuck you like the whore you are?”
“I’m not-” 
“Aren’t you?” He tilted his head at you then began pulling down your skirt. You bit your lip to keep yourself from saying anything else to make him more heated. “Just can’t keep those goddamn hands to yourself…”
He pulled your skirt off swiftly, leaving you completely exposed under him. He slid his fingers between your thighs and through your folds, gathering the slick that was pooling there.
“Jesus…” he said, feeling just how wet you were. “Were you this wet talking to those strangers? I bet you fucking were.” Just saying that out loud seemed to provoke him even more as he let out an exasperated sigh.
You whined, his fingers running through your folds again. Two of his fingers dipped inside you, causing you to exclaim loudly. You covered your mouth with your arm to keep you from being too loud as he worked his fingers inside you . Your nerves were overly sensitive from his words and the decorations he’d left on you.
“Now you want to be shy?” He teased. “No, take your hand away, let me hear what those men wish they could.”
“What if someone-”
“You would like it if someone heard, wouldn’t you?” He picked up the pace and added pressure to your clit with his thumb. You moved your arm and arched your back as you let out a loud moan into the crip air of the camp. “Puta.”
You recognized that word, but didn’t know what it meant exactly. All you knew is that he never used it in a positive way and certainly never used it towards you. He must have been terribly angry...
He continued to finger you quickly, to the point of overstimulation. You felt as if you were at the cusp of an orgasm for far too long. And Javier was good at making you cum, he’s done it many times before. He knew your body, perhaps better than you did, therefore he knew just how to make it suffer.
“Javier, please,” you pleaded, legs writhing at his touch. He pinned one of your thighs down roughly and remained unrelenting as his tense face watched you squirm beneath him. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh you’re sorry?” He said with a humorless laugh. “No, you just want mercy.”
He pulled his hand away and the sudden removal of stimulation made you swear spitefully at him. He furrowed his eyebrows at you and you shot back a quick apology.
“You’re on thin fucking ice, mija,” he said before beginning to undo his belt. You let out a breath of relief, but it was cut short by a hand around your throat. The sudden restriction made you grasp onto his arm in desperation.
“Don’t get fucking excited,” he growled. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll never forget who you belong to.”
You whimpered, eyes wide as a silent beg for him to release you. He did suddenly, allowing you to take in a deep, shuddering breath.
He barely gave any warning before slipping his cock into you, the slick you’ve created thus far making it easy for him. He groaned and you cried out as he pushed all the way in. Javier swore a few times in Spanish before beginning to move.
He didn’t bother starting slow, instead setting an already persistent pace. He set his palms on either side of your head, glaring down at you as he fucked you hard. Each thrust someone seemed to reach deeper and deeper. You were already left a moaning mess with your eyes tightly shut and knuckles white from gripping the blanket below.
“No one gets to fuck you like this,” he growled. “No one.” He grumbled, only increasing his brutal pace. He would drag out of you slowly, then slam quickly back in, sending shockwaves through your whole body. The endurance of this man was outstanding to you, even under normal circumstances.
You opened your eyes slightly, catching a glimpse of Javier’s harsh face. You’d heard stories of him scaring away grown men with just a piercing look… but never did you think you’d see it for yourself. It struck you straight through your heart… and you truly felt guilty for what you’d done.
“Eres mío... Mío!” He spat. “Mi puta.”
You groaned, grasping onto the stiff muscle of his forearms to brace yourself against his barrage. You were growing overwhelmed by the pain and pleasure his cock was bringing you as you writhed involuntarily. His words only came in the form of his native tongue, indicating he was close. You moaned his name over and over, that being the only word you could seem to form. Your mind with blank of all other thoughts that weren’t Javier.
With a loud groan, Javier gave his last few thrusts before stopping with his cock buried deep within you. You let out several whimpers as he spilled his seed in you. You both gasped for breath, completely spent from that experience. 
Javier spoke first once he caught his breath, “don’t ever… do that to me again…” your heart strained at his words. He was furious before, but now he sounded almost sad. You reached up and put a hand to his clammy cheek.
“I won’t, I promise you,” you said with a weak smile. “I really am sorry.”
He let out a sigh, putting his hand over yours on his cheek.
“I know you are…” he said with his own weak smile. He ran his fingertips over your torso where he’d left all his marks on your skin. He laughed breathlessly. “You are so beautiful like this.”
He laid down beside you and carefully pulled you in close. You let him, nuzzling into his neck as he rested his chin on your head. It was clear to you then that he did truly love you, and there were no more hard feelings for what you’d done. Perhaps you’d talk about it when the sun came up, but for now you were simply content in each other’s arms.
A/N: I think it's kind of funny that I've written Javier exactly two times, one where he's overly sweet and one where he's overly... not lol. Anyways, thanks for reading!
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i-am-iron-spider · 8 months
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Grief or guilt... Which one can you bear?
Let’s talk about this week’s episode of The Crowded Room that made me a sobbing mess
Be aware of spoilers of episode 9 ‘Family’ 
Oh, my... this was definitely something! This week’s episode was so emotional and, in some moments, so hard to watch, especially the last three minutes of the show. The raw pain we saw on Danny’s face, I honestly thought that it would be the moment when one of his personalities would take over his mind, but the reality was just crushingly heartbreaking. It is shown so well how Danny is struggling with his disorder and with everything that is happening in the courtroom. I feel that he might have finally realised that Rya was telling the truth about his childhood abuse... which got me thinking that the last action he took might also be the result of his realisation of what had happened to him when he was eight... Better say to what Marlin had done to him.  I just... I refuse to believe that this is how Danny’s story ends, we still have one episode left and I really hope that we will finally get justice for Danny, that he will get the treatment and finally will be in control of his life. 
I am highly upset with Candy. What she did was so wrong in so many ways... She basically betrayed her own son to save the man who has been abusing her and her son for years. I’m angry at her, but at the same time, that’s what a victim of abuse would do. She is clearly scared and confused. She wants to get away from Marlin, but at the same time, she is so damn scared of what he would do. It is so sad that she wasn’t able to ‘ask for help’ this time. Hopefully, she will get redemption because, for now, she basically signed Danny’s death sentence...
Marlin is a piece of shit and I hope he burns in hell... I’m not sorry. He is a real asshole and he deserves a life sentence. Death would be too easy for him. He needs to suffer for everything he had done... ‘Like a son to me’... What a motherfucker! You know, Candy I can excuse, she is Marlin’s victim, but Marlin himself, oh, this dude is fucked up... Did he mention that he works with kids in this episode? If so, oh my, I hope he goes to jail. And yeah, no hate for the actor, Will Chase is doing amazing, his performance is great!
The lady in the suit who represents New York. Honestly? I respect her. I know that she is making Danny’s situation thousands of times worse, but she is one hell of a lawyer! She is doing her job, and damn, she is doing it well!
Jerome was the highlight of this episode, I just love him so much! He truly loved Ari and cared for her. He did what he had to, and I’m just so happy he was in today’s episode!
Rya... I feel so sorry for her. She tried to help Danny so much, and now... God, when she was crying, I felt that it was not because she was called out, but because now Danny might think that this is all he had been to her... Just a case that could make her famous... which personally I think couldn’t be further away from the truth...  
You know it was coming, I just have to talk about how amazing Tom’s performance was in this episode! He said three sentences at max, but oh my, the way he acts without using words, pure talent! I love how we can see Danny’s emotions and feelings just through his eyes, my God! It is amazing! I won’t be tired of saying this - Tom Holland is an outstanding actor who deserves the world for the hard work he put into this show! I wish more people could understand how important what he did is. This show, the message the show is carrying... It upsets me so much the amount of hate Tom received after the previous week’s episode... I hope that one day people will understand the importance of the show and the difference between the character and the actor. 
I’m not ready for the next and last episode of the show! I want to watch it so much, but at the same time, I don’t want this show to end! What do you think of this episode?
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jesuistrestriste · 8 months
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sage I have art donaldson ideas and ik it's 3 am but HEAR ME OUT.....
he wins for the first time in like forever and reader let's him o whatever he wants and hes like dominant but not in a bitchy way he just took control and it's making me 🥴🥴
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bri omfg u have me thinking thoughts rn. . .
this type of dom!art is what i'm trying to incorporate into pt. 2 of you're such a loser, but i'm making this a separate drabble bc im thinking abt this concept too hard now
the way that i'm writing this instead of finishing pt. 2 of YSAL is crazy
content warnings: soft dom!art donaldson, switch(sub)!reader, praise, gentle throat fucking, kinda fluffy.
word count - 2k
---- ✩ nsfw below, 18+ ✩ ---
The large crowd in the stands behind you burst up from their seats and roar with praise and cheers as Art successfully wins the volley against his opponent, resulting in the winning score of 7-5 for him. You can't help but jump up from your seat too, clapping your hands together and shouting things like "YES!" and "there we go!"
Weirdly, you felt like crying on behalf of your player. This had actually been his first win in over several months. He had hit a real slump about a year ago, and beat himself up for it, which only worked to decrease his overall morale and result in more losses down the line. You never actually told him this, but you were genuinely worried that his career might be over.. that he might never win again. But here the two of you were: many long mornings, afternoons, and nights of training and practice later, and he had fucking won.
A huge grin was splayed across his pink, sweaty cheeks as the score was announced and he went to shake his opponent's hand. The other player put on a brave face, shaking Art's hand, but as soon as your husband's back was turned, the player's face dropped into a display of resentment and anger. You scoffed at this, feeling a sense of pride in your partner and smugness at his win. This might have been a slightly hypocritical reaction on your part, though, as Art had been the resentful loser one too many times in the past year. You shrug the feeling of cognitive dissonance off. Who cared? He had his mojo back now.
Art jogs off of the court and makes a b-line right for your open arms, which he joyfully runs into before lifting you off of the ground and spinning you a bit. Once your feet are back on earth, you pull away to look into his eyes, and they are positively beaming with happiness and confidence. It was like looking at a whole new man! You brushed some wet pieces of hair from the middle of his forehead back into place, and then cupped his cheek. He smiled into your touch, and then pulled you back into his chest.
"You did such a good job, pretty boy. I'm so damn proud of you," you spoke quietly in his ear as he held you. He squeezed you tighter, letting you know how much he appreciated your praise.
"Thank you," he whispers.
You pull back and take one of his hands in two of yours.
"Let's get back to the hotel, yeah?" you smiled, and he nodded tiredly with a grin before using the back of his free hand to wipe beading sweat from his temples.
--
The taxi drops the two of you off outside of the huge hotel, and you both exit the vehicle after you pay the fare with your credit card. Art takes your hand in his with a renewed sense of self-assuredness, and you smile at him as you both walk into the building and take the elevator up to the twelfth floor.
Upon arrival, you pull the key card from your pocket and hold it gently over the red light above the door handle. A brief beeping noise is emitted and then the light is green. You turn the door handle and step inside, Art so close behind you that you can actually feel his body grazing the back of yours, and the door shuts quickly after. As you begin to pivot your body and congratulate him once more, he's suddenly all over you before you can even speak--
He's grabbing hungrily at the fabric of your dress, hiking it up and gripping your soft thighs, as he leans in to bite and suck at your neck. You can actually feel his canines nearly puncturing your skin as he places one of his palms at the nape of your neck so that you can't pull away from him.
"mm-! fuck!" you moan softly, using one of your hands to grab a handful of his hair while the other wraps around his upper back. He groans as you press your body against his, almost grinding into him.
"wh-what.. what are you doing?" you breathe out, swallowing thickly as he continues to leave bruises and bite marks on your flesh that are wonderfully sore and stinging.
He licks at your neck before responding, "I'm just so proud of us, and I want you to understand how proud I am."
The warmth of his breath kind of tickles and gives you goosebumps as you reach for one of his hands and bring it down to your panties.
"You can do whatever you want, love. You've earned it," you whisper into his ear, and then he's hooking his middle finger onto the inside of your underwear and pulling them down to your upper thighs in one smooth motion.
"I know I have, now jus' let me play with you a little,"
He rubs circles into your clit with his thumb, while his other fingers slide through your slick folds.
"You like this? Me having complete control over you?" he coos.
You nod, whining as you lift your leg to wrap it around the back of his legs and give him more access to your parts. He plays with your needy pussy for a couple of minutes more before you can feel his clothed erection pressing against your leg. He pauses his finger's movements, and breathes heavily against your shoulder.
"Kneel."
A beat of silence. There is no noise, except for the faint echo of your heavy breathing. You buck your hips against his hand.
"Wha-?" you mumble, still riding the high of your previously fast-approaching orgasm.
"You heard what I said, babe. On your knees for me," he saids gruffly, before pressing a kiss to your collarbone.
Without hesitation, you drop down to the floor, kneeling in front of him and making direct eye contact with the tent in the front of his white athletic shorts. He runs a hand though your hair, peering down at you with admiration as you begin to reach down and rub at your own clit. Art smiles at your desperation, and then he's pulling down his shorts and boxers until they're almost to his knees.
He holds his stiff cock out and gives it a couple stokes, which makes him toss his head back in pleasure, before he wiggles it slightly in front of your nose. He bends down and forward to give you a sloppy, warm kiss on the lips before he's back to standing upright. Two of his fingers from his free hand tap the underside of your chin.
"Open up, baby. I wanna put it in your mouth so bad.."
You oblige, opening your mouth up wide and letting your tongue loll out and rest against your bottom lip. Your brows turn up in arousal as you continue to get yourself off with your fingers, staring up at your pretty husband. This whole situation was so incredibly hot, given Art's lifelong streak of submission. He rarely took the reigns, but you guessed that today's win must have flipped a switch that had previously been off and lying dormant within him.
He takes a step closer to you and places his leaking tip onto your tongue, which you promptly wrap your lips around and engulf in the wet heat of your mouth.
An involuntary whimper tumbles from his lips at the feeling, but he tries to stifle it by pressing his lips tightly together. He grabs a fistful of your hair, and shallowly bucks his hips into your mouth. Your tongue swirls incessantly around the limited portion of his cock that he's gifted you, and you make sure to swallow whatever drips out.
"Okay, honey, listen to me," he groans, hips still twitching, "I'm going to fuck your throat now, but I promise I'll be careful. You can tap my leg twice if you want to stop. Nod if you understand me."
You nod, his erection still filling your mouth, and you look up at him with pleading eyes. You want this just as much as he does.
"Good girl," he says softly, praising your obedience.
He slowly pushes his hips closer to your lips, successfully stuffing his length down your throat. It takes a second for you to get adjusted to the slightly unpleasant feeling, and you choke a little around him. He studies your face as he continues to stuff your mouth full, making sure that you don't look too uncomfortable or uneasy.
"There you go, baby.. taking me so well, oh ffffu-uck-"
His hips are now pressed flush to your lips, and your eyes well up with tears as you feel the stretch of your throat. You feel a bit of drool drip down your chin and land on your leg below.
Art delicately grabs your head with both of his hands now, brushing some of your hair behind your ear, and then he starts to thrust needily into your mouth. At first, it's small jerks of his hips, but these jerks soon turn into full-on pumps of heady cock in and out of your throat. Your head feels fuzzy at the sensation of this, plus your approaching orgasm and the lack of direct access to oxygen.
"mm-mm-mm-mf-!" you whine high in your chest as he fucks your mouth mercilessly, lost in his own storm of arousal and desperation. Your other hand moves to grip his leg and steady your body from rocking back and forth. You wanted to be a good toy for him right now. After all, he had worked so hard today.
He moves one of his hands to cup your lower jaw and uses his dominant one to grab your hair and hold it back from your face in a make-shift ponytail. All the while, he's still pumping your throat full of his dick, as he lets out low groans and muffled whimpers.
Your body starts to tremble and you squeeze your eyes shut as your fingers rubbing your sensitive nub bring you closer and closer to the edge. Art immediately takes notice, and you can feel the way his length twitches and jumps with interest as it pummels your mouth.
"Are you close..? I'm getting close.. I'm so close.." he moans out loudly, gripping your hair with ferocity.
You release a drawn-out whimper, alerting him that you were ready to cum any second, and he looks down at you with unadulterated delight.
"So pretty when you're cumming, babe, let me see you cum while you're sucking me down,"
At the processing of his words, your eyes quickly glaze over as you start to squirt all over your hand and the floor beneath you. Your body shakes with the waves of your orgasm as you cum, yet you still make sure that you're lavishing his erection with adequate attention.
He moans as he watches your hips arch in the aftershocks of your release, and then his hips are stilling as his balls draw up-
"Oh FUCK, oh fuck me, I'm cumming I'm nnnghh-!"
You feel a warm and rapid flow of liquid down your throat that follows the sound of his cries of ecstasy, and you instinctively swallow it all. Every single drop, and this effectively works to milk his cock dry as he continues to spill into your mouth and whimper with each throb and pulsation of his orgasm.
After he rides out the last bit of his high, Art attempts to catch his breath as he slowly pulls himself out of your mouth. You cough and splutter a bit, having gotten used to the full-feeling, and then swallow a few times to soothe your used throat.
"Where did that.. where did that come from?" you gasp out, also trying to regain the steadiness of your breathing.
He laughs softly with raised brows, before blowing out a harsh breath of air through puckered lips. His brows knit together in genuine surprise and contemplation.
"I honestly have no idea, but I kinda liked it."
You smile up at him, wiping at your spit-covered chin.
"Me too.. maybe this will be a new incentive for you to win," you tease.
"If that's how it's gonna be, I'll win every match from now on," he smirks, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.
"You're on."
---
im thinking so many thoughts.
ps. sorry if there's any errors, i wrote this at 3 am :,)
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parallelplayers · 5 months
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four days in interlagos 4/4
lance pov pt 11
He didn’t really get to be the little spoon that often. He really, really didn’t. So when he woke up to being pretty much cradled into George’s body, he wanted to fight a little bit. He was comfy, he was cozy, he was not overheated, he wanted George to stay but instead what came out was -
“I’m not getting up."
His brain started to try and tell him something, but he was just too damn tired to think about it at - he opened an eye to read the blurry 5:45 on the clock - too fucking early o’clock.
----
He slept until George got back from the gym. Initially he only picked up on George’s voice, but then when he heard his dad’s, he groaned. No way in hell were they going to get to do anything - which is what his brain had been trying to tell him earlier but he fought it.
Again.
His dad’s voice floated through the door George opened. “See you both soon, George. Right, Lance?”
A groan. “I’m up!” Sadly, not in the way he wanted.
----
It was a fucking tough race, but he didn’t have it in him to be annoyed with the result when he saw Alex launch himself into George, the two of them both visibly emotional.
It would be the two of them, soon enough. It had to be the two of them. If he came P1 and they weren’t out, and George wasn’t working? Fuck it, they’d come out on live television.
Which, when he settled into the debrief, did seem a touch dramatic. He took out a pencil and started to write himself little shorthand notes to ask Arlene.
LCO - Lance coming out
QOP - it was easier to write when where why in French - no one was thinking about that reading his notes.
Then, of course - GCO. George had to come out as well, and he wasn’t about to throw his boyfriend to the wolves as the baby bi between the two of them. Especially with his job, he got enough shit as it was.
Then a series of question marks. He paused after that, but Seb was still going on about something boring.
----
George: Going out with Alex for a bit! Will be back by 11.
Of course he was. And it wasn’t like Lance was Daniel, he couldn’t just - show up to another team’s victory party and be accepted. I mean, they would let him in - probably - and he knew people from when he was with Williams. They’d be nice to him at least. But it would be suspicious for sure and they both needed to behave.
His dad saying that and gesturing at his own neck and made him realize his dad was way more in the know about his sex life than he was comfortable with. But George had probably forgotten he had a bruise, seen the pool and gone for it.
Lance: k lmk if u need me to get u. have fun :)
He meant it, truly. Alex wouldn’t party too hard - not without Lily - so while the two of them could get into something, at least there was the possibility it wouldn’t be like, hookers and blow.
----
He ended up going to Esteban’s room. He’d offered for Este to come over to his, but the look of disgust on his face was clear.
“I do not doubt George is a cleanly person, but you are not and I am sure you both have been distracted. You know, I saw,” Esteban gestured at his neck, “and yes, probably not his best either. Maybe some other time."
But it was nice, the three of them shooting the shit, Mick excited about the move to Williams, and it was cool. It was easy, it involved zero effort and it was about 10 when his phone buzzed.
George: if you are still aw ake my love will you please come pick meu p fr om the party my location is on
He - George was calling him what? His hands - he didn’t shake, per se, but he definitely knew he looked a little crazy.
George calling him ‘my love’. God he was in deep, to read that from a very clearly drunk man and get his blood pressure up.
George: it isn’t tooooooo far i think?? if not i think uber works here in brazil
Something he very much did not want. A drunk happy George in an Uber. They’d never been drunk together so he had no clue what to expect.
He plugged in the address.
Lance: yep eta fifteen minutes
“Alright, guys, that’s me. Gotta go pick up George.”
The razzing he got was worth it.
----
It was a nice place that Mercedes had picked, easy to find, and it also helped that there was a tall beacon at the front of the club, face wide open from the alcohol and the air, a water bottle in hand, giddy from half a block away.
Lewis was with him, very much more sober, and he got a raised eyebrow when he pulled up. George’s face was bright and open and when he practically threw himself into the back of the car carelessly. Lance rolled the window down.
“Hey Lewis.”
“Lance.”
Lance turned around, and George was sloppy with it, trying to get himself strapped in sloppily. He couldn’t help the laugh in his voice “Russell, why are you laying down back there? I’m not your hired help.”
A hiccup, a laugh, and then -“I’ll - I’ll - I’ll tell you later.”
Lewis chuckled, looking between them like oh, look how silly George is being, Lance. If George puked, he’d blame Lewis. “He’s had a little bit to drink, that’s all. Isn’t it, George?”
He turned back to see George open and shut his mouth, thinking it over and then just nodding in agreement. Instead, he chose to wave.
A fond eye roll from Lewis. “Night, you two.”
“Night, Lewis.” Lance said, rolling the window up as he put the car in drive. They were not going to have this conversation anywhere near Lewis.
----
Once they were on the road, Lance brought it back up. It wasn’t like he was a chauffeur. “But seriously, babe, what’s up with the backseat treatment?”
A little giggle, and then George stopped and started his sentence a few times before it came out. “I am sobering up, for sure, but I am unsure if even now I could keep my hands to myself.” A handsy drunk, good thing he’d stayed in. "Contrary to popular belief, I am just as worked up as you are.” Oh, horndog city, for sure. "And you were in the points today!” George went to do something but the seatbelt kept him strapped in “See, imagine if I hadn’t been buckled in. I could have im-imp- messed up your driving.” Though he was trashed, his eyes were clearing up. “Get it together, George.” Lance laughed at that. “What? I did drink four whole bottles of water. A bottle for a shot, almost. I should be good to go, when we get back.”
“Okay, babe, sure.” Lance was 100% sure he was going to have to bodily carry George back to the room. And baby him in the morning before his flight. But it was Alex’s maiden win, so he just let it go.
----
George was clearly up to something, though he was trying to not telegraph it as they made it through the parking lot, lobby and then into the elevator. His movements were sharper, his words clearer, but his hands were in his pockets when Lance let them into the room.
Anticipating the hangover from hell, he toed off his shoes as George fiddled with the extra lock.
“Lance.” The clearest his voice had been yet.
“Hmm?” A good shower and then a glass of water and they’d be good to go, in his mind.
“Are you - do you - are you too tired?” It was shy, shy and a little sweet and very nervous and it was fucking cute.
He was just some guy, so of course he turned around. “For what?”
George sidled up, letting Lance know he was on his way, a look on his face. “Well, you’ve called me a tease quite a few times.”
He had to be the responsible one. “You’ve been drinking, babe -”
“My love,” and George had called him that to his face. How was he supposed to argue with that when it was a sucker punch to his heart? “My flight leaves at eleven. Please. I want to.” Shy hands gestured at Lance’s torso. "Otherwise I - well I - I don’t know. I’ll expire or something.”
What a fucking drama queen. “Expire? We can’t have that.” He had to wrap his arms around George, who vibrated with the contact.
“Lovely. Now, if I may?” Working his way back from buzzed and he was still proper. They met in the middle, and it lit something inside him, and then there were fingers in his hair and that was it. When he hesitated in pulling at Lance’s hair, Lance gave him a little ass pat for encouragement.
“If you’re going to do it, do it.” Lance breathed against his lips. C’mon, Russell, let’s go, pushing a little.
There was a challenge in the way George used his body, herding him until he was flat against the wall, then nimble hands went for his pants. He’d put on a pair of joggers after the race, comfort over style, freeballing it. George made a little ‘ooo’ noise when he figured that out. "No underwear?”
“I mean, I was just going to pick you up. Not like I was expecting a strip search.” Not like Esteban or Mick gave a fuck.
“My luck.” It was like he’d found a surprise, and then the joggers were shoved down and George ran his fingers up Lance’s thighs, and he shuddered. “Very much so.”
He needed his head checked from how quickly he got hard from that, light touches from spidery hands. But he could give himself a little slack, it’d been days of teasing.
And George was enthusiastic, like he knew exactly what worked from giving a grand total of one handjob.
But when the tips of his fingers slid smoothly across the head of his dick, then crisply started to jack him off, maybe that other guy had a point. He hadn’t expected George to come in so hot.
“Oh my god.” His voice was higher than usual but he couldn’t give less of a fuck because this was - it was expert level.
“Good?” When George didn’t get a response - he couldn’t fucking formulate one - he stopped.
“Babe, please. Please.” There was the begging in his voice. He was not too proud to beg when he was already on edge.
George pushed back a little, cold air hitting his dick and other exposed areas, and he followed.
George tutted, as if he was a bad kid in class. “Ah, ah, wait. I’m not leaving.”
“You sure about that?” After everything he’d gone through that week, George could tease him to the ends of the earth and he’d still wait.
He fucking keened when George took both hands back.
“Hold please.”
Like he was on a phone call or something, and Lance was starting to get pissed -
And then George did something kinda insane. He took one hand, put it up to his mouth and - he didn’t spit in his palm, the old fashioned way. He laved each finger, which was graphic enough when he’d been thinking about George licking his dick like that.
If this was his second try at this, he was going to be rocking Lance’s world after a while. Especially because after he put his hand back on his cock, he turned bright eyes on Lance, as if watching him get off was a reward.
It was going to end faster than he anticipated, his breath giving him away. George seemed crazy into it, leaning in, pressing eagerly into is open mouth. When he came - eyes rolled back, head against the wall, unable to catch his breath - it hit hard enough that he lost like any function to anything besides his knees.
George studied him as he steadied himself, as if it was more interesting to watch him recover than it was to start trying to get himself off. He was still staring by the time Lance got his brain back online. “George?”
“Yes?” Now that he’d been caught staring, he was shy, tucking his face into the sweaty curve of Lance’s neck, breathing heavily.
“You want to, y’know, switch?” It would be rude for George to not get off after that.
“Switch what?” He really wasn’t thinking about getting off at all, was he? Lance had to lead, and he wrapped his hands around George’s wait, used it to guide George where he wanted him, against the wall. “My hand."
He was sure the hotel wall had worse substances on it. But he wasn’t going to tease George over it.
“Don’t worry, baby, I’ve got it.” Belt, pants, briefs, then he went to get on his knees.
George freaked a little at this, tugging at him. “No, no.”
“No?” Was that other blowjob that bad for him to not want one ever again?
Hands in his shirt, tugging. “No. Up here.”
“Ah, okay.” Lance unbuttoned George’s shirt as he came back up, gently pulling it off so it didn’t get come on it. One they were face to face, he pulled George in for a kiss.
A thought came into his mind - if George liked to be pinned, maybe here would be a good place to play with that. Tease him a little - give him a taste of his own medicine. Took one hand and pressed George down hard against the wall, another on his dick, and he lit up. “Oh.” It was louder than he’d heard George, from some deep, unknown part of his body.
Like his world had been rocked by this little movement.
“Yeah?” George nodded, his mind gone, letting out borderline sobs, and he was so close Lance could fucking taste it. He was easy for it, once you got the armor off. He put his lips back on George’s neck, mirroring the original bruise, blew and then sucked in a little and George shook apart from just that. Almost explosively, a hand smacked against the wall, the gross one clinging to Lance’s shirt.
Lance let himself observe as George got it back together. Let himself get a little too close, like he’d always wanted to, and he could tell when George rejoined him because they were back to kissing.
He pulled away first because he was just - just fucking tired.
George followed. “Lance.” His voice was quite hoarse, a testament to what they’d done, even if it had just been like third base.
“Yes?”
“Good?” George was so shaky, his want to be good on his face, and Lance wouldn’t ever disappoint him and say no.
Especially because it was the truth. “Yeah, baby, great. Worth the wait.” He pressed a kiss to the sweaty top of a cheek. “You want to rinse off?”
He nodded. “Oh, damn, your shirt.”
It was just a fucking shirt. “Oh well."
He could just get another one later.
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silvery-orchid · 2 years
Text
warnings: yan! heizou, office setting, you're his new naive coworker, stalking, he's just a secret perv who steals your things and keeps up a perfect facade so that you come to him.
block if u don't like yan content
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imagine meeting heizou and developing a workplace enemies story with him while he hides a few shameful secrets.
being tired from his latest job and low on sleep he enters his office and sees you there. immediately he assumes that you're someone tasked with getting him the things he wants; he knows his position here very well - nobody else solves cases quite like him. so why shouldn't he get someone assigned? and from that initial meeting when he basically tells you what to get him to eat and drink you can't stand his guts.
the nerve of this man. just because you failed your last job by getting too attached to the client doesn't mean this transfer was necessary. and it certainly doesn't mean that your detective spirit should be reduced to a simple errand runner.
safe to say - once heizou hears that you are his new partner that he should train at the same time - he isn't too happy.
so he does everything in his power to make you quit. insults, difficult questions, assigning you things you can't finish, not giving you enough time, having you do sly interrogations; he pushes it all onto you.
he would have no problem going easier on you if only you weren't so damn stubborn. a simple 'i am not ready for this yet' or 'you know i can't do that' would save you so much trouble but you keep insisting trying to prove yourself.
he isn't sure if he likes that or hates that about you. certainly you are growing and he feels somewhat proud but he is always a few steps ahead. so, once you get into another argument with him saying 'i can solve cases on my own!'; basically insinuating that his help is nothing special - heizou decides to give you a...new task.
how would you feel and what would you do, he wonders, if you woke up one day and went to grab your favourite lipstick and realized it was no where to be found? if your perfume was gone along with your gum packs?
that's how he starts. small things, almost meaningless. the things you can jock up to 'i probably dropped it somewhere while walking.'
if you were truly a good detective you would at least imagine the possibility that someone took it out of your bag during your lunch break. you would imagine how they trail that lipstick (just lightly so that it lasts longer) up their thighs, stomach - how they put it on their lips and smear it around with their fingers to mimick what would unquestionably be a result of make outs. heizou has no shame, he smears some of it on his cock while he pounds into the mattress and transfers some to his pillow while he moans into it.
but you never even assume that could happen. and that just proves it; you're not good enough. but he supposes such small things aren't indicative enough to get you more worked up. to make you realize you should depend on him.
so, after a few months, heizou takes on a different approach.
he pens small messages (obviously changing his handwriting with every one he sends) to you. sometimes you find them on your mirror, counter, bed etc. sometimes they're on your door.
'did you really have to wear that top today?'. 'do you enjoy crossing your legs in that skirt so much?'. 'i wonder what it would feel like to bite the inside of your thighs'. 'i have your lipstick, honey'. 'i saw you walking through the forest today, it would have been so easy to fuck you against that tree you leaned on.'
heizou does it to make you come to him. he does it to prove a point. these should be alarming enough; he figures. he will stop once you open the doors to his office and you ask him to help you. it would finally mean that you're admitting to being incapable on your own.
but he didn't expect your stubbornness and pride to be that high. he can notice changes in you - some paranoia. but you aren't asking him to help you.
and that drives him insane. he doesn't feel quite proud of himself while he is actually in the process of stealing your panties but as soon as he gets home and erratically pulls down his pants - as soon as he is able to touch the tip of his leaking cock - he feels no remorse and no shame.
it's only a matter of time, he thinks while he brings himself to orgasm after orgasm while sniffing and biting and licking and dragging them over his cock - soon enough you will come to him.
you will ask him to help you. and you will never know that the very person pretending to investigate this case is the one who did it all - and heizou initially did want you to quit but now he's in too deep. you should stay and work with him, forever in fact. he will take care of you - you're so naive and incapable after all. and you will be so thankful once he arrests a pervy old man on false charges (false this time it is) that you will fall in love with him.
heizou is always a few steps ahead of you after all.
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a/n: i'm not even a big heizou fan but,,,,this scenario
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elialys · 2 months
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Channeling positive energy for 2024
I have been very listless for at least the last couple of years (if not since 2020 and the whole pandemic mess), resulting in a pretty rough depressive episode that peaked this last November. It's hard to feel motivated to do anything concrete to improve your own life when everything around you is just...bleak. And this world does suck so much, so often, in so many ways.
But then I remember how I innately believe that most people are good, and that I am good, too, and that the one thing that always makes me feel better when I'm low is to do something helpful for someone, or to just be kind if I don't have the spoons for more.
(Putting this big ramble under read more)
I think I've mentioned it here before but I've made the decision to try and get into a new field of work, which involves at least two if not three years of studying. Let me tell you, I'm about to turn 36 in a couple of weeks. It's scary as fuck to do something like this. But this job, if I get into the school I need to get into, will be perfect for me. I'll be helping people who need guidance and compassion basically every day.
The bond I got to build with my students was my absolutely favorite part of teaching, but I got overwhelmed by everything else. I burned myself out in less than four years because I became a workaholic who worked 70 hours a week, never took a breath, tried tried tried, yet never felt like I was doing enough. The pressure was incredible, the 'I have to be around hundreds of people every single day', performing in front of entire classrooms full of kids 6h a day'...it just wore me down. Loved my kiddos to death, loved my science team so much, but then the pandemic hit and I lost a few family members within a few months, and I realized it was time for me to go home after 12 years abroad.
The meanest part of my brain likes to tell me I've spent the last four years being basically a useless human blob, but realistically, I know I wasn't. I had been working my ass off since 2011, when I was in America nannying two young kids all day long then going to school full time at night/weekends, before being hired as a teacher in England for 4 years.
I needed the break, I needed time with my loved ones. I needed to help grieving family members, especially my little sister with ASD, who had to learn to navigate life without her mom, who also developed epilepsy on top of everything else while our father pretended nothing was happening. I needed to spend time with my grandmother, who did so much for me when I was young and who's all alone, now. I'll even go as far as saying I've been working on fixing things with my mother this past year living with her, which was not an easy thing. Still isn't, but it's so much better than it used to be, and she's trying, too.
But I'm ready to get my life "back on track", or at least, to get busier , more proactive, more helpful to others who aren't in my inner circle, because I know that's what I'm good at, and why I'm here.
So, yeah, channeling positive thoughts for 2024. I'm not only going to work on getting into that school in the next few weeks, I also just received an email a couple days ago from an editor I used to work with. She's a writing director somewhere else now, and they need writers for a new webcomic project; she told me she immediately thought of me because they'd always been happy with my work, so I'm going to test for that, too, because why the hell not. Actually getting paid for the stuff I was writing a couple of years ago was the most surreal, rewarding experience of my writer life, and I wouldn't mind that happening again.
I want to give the biggest shoutout to my best friend & other butt cheek, @melusine0811, for helping me navigate those last four years, for always believing in me, and for being so fucking courageous when life is just so damn hard. Lauren, you're the bravest person I know, and forever my Donna Noble.
And because I'm sappy this weekend, awards and all, I'm also sending my thanks to my Australian unicorn, just for existing somewhere out there, for being a role model to me from afar these last thirteen years, for being another perfect example of people persevering no matter what, doing the things they love, while always trying to be kind to others in the process. I don't believe in much, but I believe in karma. You do good deeds, good things will happen to you.
Be kind to each other, my lovelies. Always be kind.
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mcl4r3n · 10 months
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Enchante
Tags: dando, pre-slash, yes this is based on the fact that we saw Danny and Lando sitting together while Lando wore Echante merch!!!!
---- 💛💙🩵----
"It looks good on you," Daniel says, leaning in closer when Lando pulls the yellow shirt over his shoulders and buttons it up.
Lando can't see himself just yet. They're sitting on the ledge with the waves crashing behind them and the music blaring around them, but he'll take Daniel's word for it.
"You really didn't have to, mate," Lando replies, feeling the material over his arm. It's breezy, comfortable. He's gonna ask Danny later who his supplier is because this shirt is top-notch. "I could have just ordered it myself."
Daniel laughs, knocks his shoulder into Lando's. "Can't. It's sold out already."
Lando rolls his eyes, unsurprised. "Of course, hot shot fashion man."
"You know how it is, baby," Daniel says. He spreads his arms out and winks at Lando like the obnoxious shit that he is, but Lando basks in that anyway. It's been so long since he and Daniel have had a chance to just relax and catch up, especially while Lando isn't mired in misery.
Daniel's the one to bring it up, of course, congratulating him on P9 from yesterday.
Lando shrugs one shoulder. "Eh. It's better than nothing."
Daniel leans in again, and his lips almost brush Lando's ear when he says, "You and I both know that you worked a miracle out there yesterday."
Lando tries not to fixate on the hint of touch on the shell of his ear. He'll combust otherwise.
"Mate, when the rain came, I thought I was done for. Someone interviewed me yesterday and asked if I could describe it and—"
"No one else gets it," Daniel finishes for him. "Monaco's hell on a good day. Rain in the mix? That coulda gone sideways every other second."
Lando nods, takes a sip from his virgin piña colada. That's what Lando's always appreciated about making friends on the grid, and about finally becoming good mates with Daniel. No one else gets it unless they've been in a car themselves.
It's taken a while for Lando to finally relax around Daniel. There was a period there where he used to quietly blame himself for Daniel's misery, and tried to avoid him because he thought that giving Daniel space was what he needed to do.
But evidently that didn't fly with Daniel, especially not on this weekend when there were good results for Red Bull and McLaren all around, and they were on familiar ground. They were in Monaco. They were home.
Lando couldn't avoid Daniel forever, and when Daniel invited him to meet him and Scotty at the beach club, it was impossible to turn him down.
And now he's here, sitting next to Daniel, pressed up against his thigh, pretty much, wearing Daniel's shirt that he took off after Lando complimented him on it.
"You look really happy, DR," Lando hazards to say. He tries his best to keep his eyes on Daniel, tiny, foolish crush on him be damned, and Daniel smiles so radiantly that Lando kind of wishes he hadn't said anything.
"I am," Daniel replies. "Didn't know how much my fucking back needed a break until I took one, y'know?" He laughs again, tips back his fruity cocktail and smacks his lips.
"But you'll be back, right?"
Lando hates the way his voice sounds small when he asks the question. He's seen all the interviews. He knows the chatter that goes on in the paddock whenever Daniel says something that alludes to coming back next year, but he needs to hear it for himself. He needs the reassurance that one of his favorite people on earth is gonna be on the grid again.
"I miss it, mate," Daniel says, and then smacks Lando's knee with his hand. "I miss you! So, yeah, I'm workin' on it."
"Next year?"
The hope in his voice is evident, but Daniel's PR training seems to be kicking into high gear right now. It's a little disappointing, but it's also expected.
"How red do you think Zak's face would be if that news dropped right now, eh?" Daniel laughs again, but then he sobers up, schools his expression into something more serious. "Nothing's set in stone but. . . I do wanna be back. Hopefully next year." Daniel flexes a bicep that shows when his shirt sleeve rides up, tattoos bulging out in the movement. "Ain't done just yet."
Lando takes it. He'll take anything. "Good, so I can race your ass again."
It's an easy trap he laid for himself, not having to say out loud what they both already know, that there is something inherently wrong with the concept of the McLaren, but Daniel, bless him, does not settle for cruelty.
Instead he says, "Yeah, you gotta make it worth being back on the grid for me," and clinks his drink against the last of Lando's.
They lapse into quiet, comfortable silence again, broken only when Scotty turns his phone camera to them and yells for them to pose for a photo.
Daniel's arm goes around Lando's shoulders, and drapes over his chest to hold him close. Lando's hand instinctually goes for his hairy forearm, like he's bracing him there, holding on, refusing to let go.
That is, after all, what Lando intends to do with Daniel. Hold on. Refuse to let go.
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its-tiamat · 2 years
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hi hi!! i found your blog and i am falling in loveee >< your writing is so good and adorable aaahhh they're really fun to read too!! i see that the request is open, so... i'd like to request some hcs if it's okay heheh. well... so, i'd like to req hawks, katsuki, and dabi (is it alright if i request three characters??) with a s/o who is an airhead, sort of happy-go-lucky person, who likes to ask random questions like "what if the chicken i am eating right now was your chicken's sibling? or worse, mother??" when they're eating dinner.
i hope my request is not confusing >< thank you sooo much! I hope you have a great day!! 🌟🌟
|| WITH AN AIRHEAD S/O ||
ok anon, SO, beside thanking you from the bottom of my heart for all the kind things you just said, I LOVE THIS PROMPT. If you ever feel comfortable enough to text me, pls do it. Like, you just gave me a genius tier prompt and two of my fave characters to work with so I'd just give you the biggest kiss rn. Also, requesting three characters is super fine (It's the ideal number! I love you!) and encouraged, so I'm sure I'm working with someone you like.
Pairings: dabi × reader • bakugo × reader • hawks × reader
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To be honest, at first Toya was kinda worried about you being such an airhead. But that also means you're comfortable enough to speak your mind around him, right? He won't complain.
You love the concerned look he gives you when you do or say something weird. "You were talking in your sleep last night," he said once, while you were having lunch at your place. "Huh? What did I say?" you asked.
Toya lifted his shoulders: "you turned to look at me and said: I realized why it's called breakfast, because it breaks the fast. I mean you're not wrong but-"
"Love. I was fully awake. I was talking with you."
"...ah."
Don't keep asking him which food he can cook best with his quirk, please. The answer is none.
He must admit it though, your questions made him so curious. He tried to cook bacon while you weren't at home once.
It tasted like coal.
Also let's not forget, he's still a villain. Thinking out loud, you once asked him what would happen if he donated his hair and whoever used the wig committed a crime, leaving his DNA on the crime scene.
"Honey," he huffed, "my DNA is already on half of the crime scenes in this city. Honestly, I wouldn't worry that much."
It kinda froze your blood. Welp. That's the good ol' fuck around and find out. Maybe if you ever commit a crime you should drop some of his hair to the ground. Just in case.
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Bakugo used to be. So damn annoyed by your random thoughts. And his reactions are so fun that you tried to film them a couple of times.
"Do you ever think about the fact that the bus we are in is powered by decomposed dinosaurs?"
"No? What the hell, Y/n. Wait, are you filming this?"
"Nah, why would I film it? By the way, do you ever think that maybe the water you're drinking right now has been into like, someone famous? All Might, maybe."
Bakugo almost spat water over the old lady that was sitting in front of you that time. What the hell was wrong with your brain?
You couldn't deny it, annoying him is part of the fun, especially when you manage to break his tough exterior, taking him by surprise. He's been catching up lately though, and he tries to answer your questions.
"Katsuki? I have a question."
"Please, tell me it's not one of your weird ass questions, huh. It would be the third today!" He said, holding up his head with one of his fists.
"No, it's a serious one. You know how electricity runs through water right?" you asked.
"Yep," Bakugo looked at you, "another weird ass question. I knew it."
"How do fish survive when a lightning strikes the sea?" Bakugo's eyes widened. How did the fish survive? Shit, he didn't know either. With a groan, he took his phone "I gotta look this one up."
(just for the record, they don't survive :( the ones closer to the point where it strikes die because of the electric impulse, and more die because of the shock wave resulting from it. I was too curious and had to look it up too lol.)
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Keigo, on the other hand, loves your stupid ass questions. He's so on board with that.
Mostly because his head is at least as weird as yours, so even when you ask him what his favorite brand of milk is, he has a straight  answer for you. Why shouldn't he have a favorite brand of milk after all? It's the one that complements better your favorite cookies.
You both startle each other with weird facts and questions lol. It gets to the point where it looks like a competition.
"What if the chicken I'm eating right now is the sibling of the chicken you're eating?" you blurted once while you were out eating at your favorite yakitori place. His eyes kept moving from his plate, to you, to your plate. "What if my chicken is the mother of your chicken? That would be even worse!" He exclaimed. You shrugged. "At least they got to be cooked together, right?" He nodded, and went back to eating.
You love how your random thoughts just make sense to him, and how your vibes are reciprocated.
Once, while you were cuddling, he asked you: "Y/n, don't you think some word just sound...plastic? forged? I really don't know how to describe it." You shifted in his arms to look at him "like, they sound fake?"
He nodded: "Like elbow, or aardvark."
"Like harpoon?"
"Yes! You get it, love"
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masterlist
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here2bbtstrash · 1 year
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your votes are in! part 2 survey results ✨
i asked, and y'all answered!!! 👀
as mentioned a few times before, the survey is not closed - i won't update it with new works moving forward, but i will keep an eye on it if anyone decides to run back and add votes! so please don't feel like it's too late, esp if you're new and still catching up on the porn (there is A LOT of porn. pls take your time and stay hydrated okay 😵‍💫)
but since it's been about a week, and new votes have slowed down, i thought it'd be fun to do a reveal of the top 10 results as things currently stand! sticking them below the cut - join me, won't you? 🍷
at #10, with 40 votes, we have... moving day! i was honestly surprised to see this one crack the top 10, but i should know better than to underestimate the yoongi hoes at this point. y'all love your delusional long-haired boyfie content, and who am i to deny you that??
at #9 (my lucky number 👀), with 42 votes, we have... it's sweet! shocked to see a fluff fic crack the top 10 honestly, but let's be real, the taehyung hoes are THIRSTY (anyone who follows jai already knows this 😂) - i promise i'll write more for y'all soon, and that the next one will actually feature smut!!!
at #8, with 43 votes, we have... park and ride! (and technically also its sequel, five minutes!) y'all really said give us a part three mother 😭 and jokes on you because i have an idea for a part three *and* a part four for these two. you'll never be free of them lmao!!
at #7, with 45 votes, we have... the spins! i'm happy to see this one here!! i love this couple and i've wanted to do a sequel for them for AGES, though i swear my idea for what i actually want to do changes every few months 😂 guess i gotta decide on one!!!
at #6, with 51 votes, we have... sunday! idk why i didn't expect this one to rank omg!! i don't feel like i write jin particularly well, and i especially thought that level of BDSM would be too much for some 🙈 but i have learned y'all are freaks who like crying during sex.... huh...... DULY NOTED 👀📝
halfway there, time for the big hitters! at #5, with 54 votes, we have... party on you! ahhhhh this one makes me happy to see 🥲 forever AMAZED and ECSTATIC that my most popular fic on this blog is a hoseok fic!!! i want to write a million billion more hobi things this year, and i will certainly see what i can do about circling back to these two cuties. at the very least there shall be more ass-eating in 2023!! 🎉🍑
at #4, with 58 votes, we have... deep end! joon hoes with TWO appearances on the board, we love to see it 👏 i loooove that y'all are down not only for period smut, but for some of the risks i took with using more flowery/poetic language in this one! i had so much fun trying something new, i'd love to revisit this couple and that writing style again!!
at #3, with 59 votes, we have... two in one! y'all. no. i'm shook. wig FLEW, wig in the STRATOSPHERE. say WHAT?!?!?! the first fic i ever posted on this blog, my most self-indulgent work (actually it might not be the Most lmfao but it's UP THERE) - i'm. NUMBER THREE?!?!??! okayokayokay 👀 i see y'all 👀 we're gonna have a verrrrry fun jihope month next month aren't we?!?! 😈
at #2, with 65 votes, we have... the shape of your body! oh man 🥺 i'm almost, like, emotional to see this one rank so high. this fic is so so personal and dear to me, and was a BIG leap for my writing in a lot of ways. the fact that the response has been so overwhelmingly positive, and that so many of y'all read all 24,000 words of that fic and said you want MORE. i can never put into words how much that means to me 🙇‍♀️ it's hard for me to think of a whole plot for a sequel - bc i wrote so damn much already 😂 but lemme see what i can do to at least cook up a drabble or two (if you have ideas, keep 'em in your back pocket for jihope month 👀)
and finally... at #1... with 70 votes... no one is surprised 😂 - it's drip! ahhhhh squirt god min yoongi. we meet again. i will never live this fic down lmfaoooo. and funny... doesn't he have a birthday coming up soon? i could've sworn... 👀💦💦💦
alright besties!!! i'd love to know your thoughts!!! any surprises? any you're happy to see?? anything that didn't make the list that you're about to get out the torches and pitchforks over??? i wanna hear it all, so drop me a comment or an ask and let me knoooow!! 🎤💜
(for me, it's babygirl missing out on the top 10 by two votes... but it's fine i'm fine... 😭)
also can i just say - look at y'all, getting ALL OF OT7 ON THE BOARD??? we fucking love to see it!!! equal opportunists on this blog! yaaaaaaas porn for everybody!!! 👏👏👏
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moral-terpitude · 1 year
Text
Fourth Time's the Charm - Part 6
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[Masterlist]
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]
A/N: I have been sitting on this since I started it the 18th of September and I am just now getting it finished. There is not as much smut as usual, and for that I am sorry, but my brain is kind of dust right now and rereading it with no expectation I realized it flows fine. But I’m happy with it.
Warnings: kind of smut, character death, drinking? (Kind of?) not in excess. Mention of alcohol more like.
Word Count: 4,845 (whew!)
The situation, despite how terrible it was, did have the strangest bit of luck to it.
Because of your husband being Tommy Shelby, it only took two phone calls to get your sister in to the best specialist in London once she fell ill. The only thing it truly afforded you though, afforded her, was more time, and a small amount of comfort.
From the outside, you knew surely, people must be questioning why you hadn’t had a child yet. You’d been married, working keeping the books for your husbands business in addition to your own with Ivy taking over all the business at home, which could be done from home if you so obliged, yet still you weren’t pregnant.
From the inside of your relationship though it was anything as simple. The stress of it all had you barely able to eat.
That day. You remembered that day. It was only a few months after you and Tommy had married. You had drove Ivy to the doctor that day after she had a peculiar coughing fit while making a batch of royal icing for a birthday cake one of the women from your book club had ordered. They listened to her chest, they took X-rays, and sent you both on your way.
You should have never had let her go in to the appointment by herself and should have taken a page out of Tommy’s book about being a Shelby and see if that got you any further than, “We will give you a call with the results, Miss Astley.”
“I gave them our number to call. Just please, until we get the results back, come stay with us so I can keep an eye on you.”
She huffed, leaning back against the seat, arms crossed in defiance at the suggestion of you trying to mother her. “I’ve to finish that cake.”
“Fuck that cake, Ivy. You about fell over earlier because you’re so damn weak.” You barely took your eyes off the road to chance a glance at her, driving Tommy's car always made you nervous, even if it was the "older car" as he put it, but even a sneeze coming on while you drove put you on edge enough, you definitely couldn't pry your eyes away from the road willingly.
She nodded, resigned to the fact you were correct as much as she never wanted you to be.
Had you really been that consumed with your life changing that you had failed to notice your sister getting sick?
Once you got home, Tommy's car not yet present in the round drive, you made her hold your arm as the pair of you worked you way into the house and you helped her get comfortable in one of the guest rooms. Propping her up with pillows, you made your way through the house, and abandoned your coat on the hook at the front door.
Making your way to the kitchen felt fuzzy. You knew the way by now, although the engagement had been rather short, but, it was as if after the first night you had stayed at Arrow House, much to the surprise of the staff (you could tell on their faces the next morning) at not having to turn down bedclothes of a spare room, you never truly went back home for good, managing to turn in there most nights after Tommy had picked the ring, at a jeweler in London, that now graced your finger.
You were stood in the hallway, rather in a daze, when Frances approached you.
"Mrs. Shelby, I apologize, I didn't hear you return. Is everything alright?"
Your mouth was dry as you searched for the words, hand covering your mouth as your eyes roamed the shadows.
"I've put my sister in the guest room. The green room. Could you take her some tea, please?"
She nodded, as she took in the concern on your face and tried not to let it reflect on her own, "Will Mr. Shelby be home for dinner?"
You shook your head aimlessly, "I...I'm not sure. I didn't make it to see him today. I ended up taking Ivy to the doctor. I still need to wait for them to call, so I'll be in the office."
She gave a curt nod before departing, and at some point later, as you double and triple checked the same line of math in the register in the check book, came to offer you dinner, which you declined. Your stomach churned with too much indecision as your eyes eventually closed as you patiently waited for the phone to ring.
“Love?” Tommy shook your shoulder, as you sat up in the chair, taking a stretch as he waited with the questioning look on his face.
“Sorry,” you rose from the leather chair, pulling your sweater tightly around yourself, and rubbing the bridge of your nose as you tried to hold in the surmounting tears that brimmed in your eyes, “I was headed in, I was going to come to the office this morning, but when I stopped to see Ivy I took her to the doctor. Her cough is terrible, and she's so weak, Tom.”
He knew what you meant by the words. He had told you of the girl, before he left for the war, that he had been in love with that had died from consumption.
He sighed, tossing the jacket he’d been holding in the chair, and closing the space between the two of you as you finally broke down, the concern that filled his eyes finally being enough to make you break.
Your head rested against his chest, cold fingers in a tight grip against whatever part of him you could find to keep from thrashing yourself about in misery. He ran his hand along your back as you cried, his chin rested against the top of your head. The bulk of the light had been coming in from outside the door, but when Frances passed by and heard you break out in another round of sobs she closed the door ever so slightly, so that now the wild shadows cast along the walls changed, bathing the room only in the light from Tommy’s desk.
It had been quite awhile before he spoke, the silence being actually comforting as he held you together instead of letting you fall apart, before he turned back into the problem solver he was and spoke, “I know a couple of people with very good doctors in London,” he checked his watch, “it’s late, but let me make a couple of phone calls. I’ll see what I can figure out, eh?”
You nodded, wandering out of the office to leave him to make the phone calls, sitting on the bottom of the stairs with your head in your hands.
“Mrs. Shelby?” Frances’ voice was tinged with concern as she came down the stairs behind you, the empty tea accessories rattling in her hands despite her best efforts, as you turned to look at her.
“I’m sorry, Frances,” you were tired and the sentiment leaked through into your words, tinged with sadness, as you slid out of her way, close to the wall so she could pass you, pulling the skirt along with you.
“Ma’am, you weren’t in my way. Your sister is sleeping again. However, I believe she’s starting to run a fever. I’ve given her a cold cloth.”
You nodded, trying your best to hold back the tears as she rounded the corner.
“We’ll take her to London in the morning,” Tommy proclaimed, sitting next to you on the steps and pulling you close, doing his best to rock you in the small space.
“It’s the same way we lost mom,” you whispered, letting yourself be pulled back in to his lap like a small child. He nodded. It was something you only spoke of once, as was the way he did of Greta Jurossi, but once was enough for each of you to remember.
Sleep didn’t come quickly, or easily, as worry invaded once silence took over. Even once Tommy had you calmed down and helped you into bedclothes the tears still prevailed until you were sure they had run out.
You hadn’t pulled yourself out of the fog fully until the middle of her appointment the next morning. You knew Tommy had helped you get dressed, doing a wonderful job of matching the blouse with the skirt and sweater. At some point the three of you had fumbled through breakfast, Ivy taking only tea, and who had helped her dress in your clothes? Frances. She must have.
Ivy sat in the front of the car, otherwise she would be ill by the time you were just outside of town, and it didn’t take long until another coughing fit had her bent over in the seat, trying to catch her breath.
“Here,” Tommy relinquished the pressed kerchief, one of a few that you had embroidered for him for Christmas, from his pocket, and she nodded her thanks as you continued combing fingers through her hair in the silence.
“Miss Astley,” the doctor spoke looking between the three of you, “will need to be admitted for further evaluation and testing.”
You nodded, swallowing thickly, before the doctor continued, “I’ll have one of the nurses bring in the paperwork, we’ll get a room ready immediately.”
Days and weeks fell into a routine of monotony for the sake of survival. You didn’t think, simply went through the motions in order to keep your sister comfortable as best as you could.
It shocked you when, on the good days, she still laughed, still wanted to play cards, still wanted to tell jokes.
The days that were bad, some of them, you could tell she thought were the end. The doctors would make progress, just for her to start getting worse once again.
Many of the hours you spent with her, much to the distaste of the Doctor, you spent holding her. The two of you would cram into the hospital bed and you would read, or reminisce on childhood stories, or, when the coughing fits and gasps for breath got too terrible, you would simply smooth her hair and yearn for it to pass.
“Sissy,” she whispered, head heavily pressed into your shoulder one morning, awake but barely able to sit up alone, she fiddled with the fabric buttons of the blouse as you smoothed her hair, “when you have a girl…will you use my name?”
“Ivy, don’t talk like that right now okay,” her eyes were glazed as you chanced a glance at her, looking nowhere and seeing nothing, “they’re going to get this figured out, and when they do, you’ll be there to help me. Okay?”
She shook her head, clinging tightly to you and the lie you fed her to get her through the day.
Tommy, being the one with the foresight that the distance between London and Warwickshire was unmanageable to drive each day, had contacted an associate of his while you had filled out Ivy’s admittance paperwork, and arranged somewhere to stay.
You’d all been stuck in this strangely perfect rotation of keeping Ivy company at the hospital for months. Lucky for the graciousness of Mr. Solomons for the use of the property, although you couldn’t imagine it was came to legally as the furnishings didn’t seem to match the brief descriptions of the man you had heard. You hated that you had pulled Tommy so far from home, but he assured you that between the rest of his family that they had things under control.
And, you had discovered, negotiations for you remaining and him going were out of the question.
“Tommy,” your arms were crossed as your whispered between the two of you, nurses and doctors passing in the sterile hallways, when you had arrived one morning, “we’ll be fine. I can bring some books and if you bring me paperwork that needs done or anything it’ll keep me occupied and I’ll just stay here, I feel —”
“You don’t need to deal with paperwork with everything going on. I won’t exile you here to work through everything alone.”
Everyone’s days had been rearranged. Your father would do his best to come when he could, but after 5pm that meant him still driving over and hour and arriving around dinner. He would relieve you from the hospital until around midnight, before driving back home, arriving at 1 AM, and catching whatever sleep he could until waking at 8 AM.
The shifts were balanced like clockwork.
Tommy conducted most of his business from the residence you were staying in, much to your surprise that it had a phone at all, during the time you were at the hospital. When it was needed, he would go back to Birmingham during the day, but the times that was warranted had been few and far between, and thankfully not for more than a few hours. Time being spent together was already stretched thin and some days, with him gone, you felt as if you were going to combust from the lack of time together.
It almost sickened you. Maybe that's what life was. Love. Comfort. A little bit of selfishness. However, sometimes it struck you as odd that despite everything going on, you still had a want, no a need, to be satisfied by him.
You had discovered in the short period of time that you had been together that he never was one for much sleep, and when your father would leave the hospital around midnight, he would sit with Ivy through the night so she wasn’t alone while she slept, until you arrived around nine in the morning.
He never said it, but from the chatter of the nurses and the talk of the doctors, this was when she was the worst. The cough and the fever came terrible at night, sometimes enough that she would hallucinate, sometimes enough that she would just cry.
You were aware of Tommy’s own nightmares, they never broke through often, but if anyone would be good at pulling her through whatever haze she would find herself encumbered by, you knew it would be him.
Some mornings, the mornings of days where she was doing better and able to breathe easier, mornings where she woke early and the nurses would help her walk the halls, she would send Tommy home, if you could call this in between residence that you were staying in now home, because no matter how stubborn your husband was, for some reason he would listen to your sister.
Which meant you would wake to a hot cup of tea and being told to go back to sleep for a little while longer as the bed grew smaller when filled by his presence, strong arms surrounded you and soft lips found your neck.
Despite your looming guilt, that you should be there with her every moment, you took advantage of those overlapping mornings. The few hours in bed would be put to good use, because despite what was happening, whether good or bad, you had come to terms that you couldn't put your life on hold moving forward.
John and Esme, with the assistance of Frances packing bags, had brought more clothes one weekend while you had been thankful for a switch of scenery. Your father was staying at the hospital while you and Tommy occupied the flat above the bookstore.
To be out of London itself was a wonderful break.
The four of you enjoyed dinner together, at your insistence of cooking a nice meal, before they departed, although, the whole time you’d been able to do anything but relax, reeling in some kind of guilt for your father being stuck in the hospital with your sister for the next 48 hours, as if you were the parent abandoning the child.
The men were outside talking business, bringing things in from the car, while Esme assisted you with preparing the food. You hadn’t asked her, and felt too bad to tell her no once she started helping.
“The young girls have taken to Buddy,” she spoke fondly, a smile coming to her face as she diced the onion and spoke of your family dog, “they call him tud, because his color is light. Good hunting dog, too.”
Esme always had a different way about her when she spoke fondly of her family. Usually, she was tough, but the rare moments you had interacted alone with her the wall came down just a bit.
“I’m glad someone was able to take him. He would have gotten lonely.”
You nursed another glass of wine as they left, enjoying the only sounds being the running water as Tommy washed the dishes, you curled up in the small window seat watching rainfall against the window.
You suppressed a laugh at his sputtering at dropping the plate back in the water.
As you had watched him, you realized that even though the task was so mundane, something lit inside you. Part of you wished you would have met him before. Not necessarily before the war, but before he was more of a businessman, where a scene like this would have been commonplace more than once in awhile, in one of the small houses on Watery Lane, and where people thought you weren’t marrying him just for money.
Wrapping arms around his waist as he turned off the faucet, you felt the way as every muscle and limb moved when he reached for the towel to dry his hands, before taking yours gently.
The two of you had agreed, despite his joking of having a crazy family, that you wanted a baby. You agreed to take no precautions, and whenever it happened was the time, and something, in the deep part of your heart and you mind, decided that tonight was the night.
"Tommy,” you whispered, letting your cheek rest against the cotton shirt, finding a comfortable spot between his shoulder blades to nestle against, not unlike you would some mornings in bed if you were the one to wake up first, “we’re finally alone.”
You could hear the small chuckle and knew that it would be followed by a smile creeping across his face.
“Seems we are, eh?”
His fingers, still somewhat damp, worked the buttons on your blouse quickly, guiding you until you felt the back of your legs make contact with the now clean dining table, which you found yourself placed on rather gently, impressed with its sturdiness as Tommy’s mouth followed the column of your throat, sucking gently near the collar bone before untucking your blouse and discarding it all together.
“Tom, the curtains are still open!” You hissed, as if anyone was looking, and if they were, that they would hear your words through the rain, and the thunder, and the noise on the street below.
His fingers traced a path along the inside of your thighs, a smug smile playing on his lips as he leaned forward to capture your lips in his once again, deft fingers pressing against the satin and lace before creeping beneath the hem.
“Let them look then,” he was in no hurry as the words met your ears. His now slick thumb lightly drew lazy circles around your clit, his warm palm pressed against your skin, as you tried to push from your thoughts the fact this was your father’s table (for crying out loud) and revel in the fact that even if it was, at least one of the maids wouldn’t barge in without knocking on the door of Tommy’s office and waiting for an affirmative answer.
(She was new, and it was a mistake that could really only be made once.)
The thought of being alone softened your resolve quite quickly, thankfully ending up in the solace of soft sheets, although the table runner with its doily pattern was able to make a short lasting impression on your behind for the amount of time it was in the way.
That Wednesday, Tommy arrived home in the middle of the night. He had walked the blocks in the rain, and was less than shocked to see you already stood on your side of the bed, the small revolver he had taught you to use at the house, out by the river, clutched tightly between weary hands as he opened the door.
His clothes were drenched, and a now extinguished cigarette hung between his lips, as you watched him avoid your eyes in the blue light that crept in between the curtains.
He shook his head, as you returned the gun to its place on the bedside table, and you could see he struggled to find the correct words as your mind still tried to wake up.
“It was too quick. If I would have known…I should have known. I should have had someone call you, I should have called you.”
“Tommy?”
He closed the gap, still wearing his wet layers, to find warmth, pulling you close and ignoring the cold and damp, you settled there, preparing for the worst.
“She’s gone.”
***
The first few weeks, were filled with a numb feeling. You no longer could call the person who knew you best, who had put the veil on your head and buttoned your dress before sending you off on the arm of your father to marry Tommy.
The mornings after she had nightmares of a smaller arm around you as you shared the bed, not a instance in recent years, would never exist again.
The fighting over the best hair pin for church, or who held the basket when picking apples, or who would be stuck collecting chicken eggs, were all arguments of the past.
The incessant teasing she would give you for the smallest thing no longer would be present.
It took a month after the funeral for you to return to even the yard. Without Buddy and Ivy it wasn't home. That was certain.
It was a Sunday night. Polly had managed to pry you from the house to come for dinner, and on the way home, the silence filled by the air coming through the cracked window, the only thing you thought you could truly feel being the way Tommy soothed the hand he held as he drove with the other, it felt like you finally had words to say. For the first time in awhile.
"Can we stop by the house?"
"Absolutely, love." He gave a slow nod, the reassuring tone of his voice made it feel like you could finally breathe, finally breathe enough to feel the ache in your chest.
You stood in the yard, staring at the unlit house. The unlit barn. No dog in the yard.
It was no longer your home.
Maybe it had been best it happened this way. Maybe it was the way things were supposed to be.
The thought felt terrible as it first came to you.
But, in your head you could thank her, at least, because you never would have picked out that navy dress to wear all on your own.
How she knew, you never asked, maybe it was a lucky guess, but it had stood out to you that day, as Tommy took both of your hands in both of his, that his suit was the same shade as that navy dress you had wore when he took you out for a drink.
"I might come out here, tomorrow, and start going through things."
His hand on your lower back was the reassurance you wouldn't be doing it alone.
The next morning, you both rose early. The first time since Ivy was gone that you had made a effort to put yourself together properly.
John and Arthur had each brought one of the little Ford trucks with the fabric covering on the back to help move things. Most of the things, except what you had already set aside, would be going to the church for families in need.
You had forgotten how many Lee girls there were. Esme seemed to be trailed by about 4 or 5 girls of varying ages that all looked to be some variation of her, Buddy trotting happily behind the smallest of them all. You had let them look through the clothes and jewelry first, and whatever the could find that fit, was theirs.
For being Monday, this must have been the job everyone was instructed to do today. You never had experienced a large family coming together in a time of mourning, but, this must be what it was like.
No one would let you do anything, it felt like. In a way, it was a relief. You had ended up in the house, Polly and Ada beside you, as they flitted about the kitchen, boxing up cutlery and dishes. Your father didn't want any of it. You and Tommy had received a very nice set of China for a wedding gift, and there was already with silver service with all the place settings, so it wasn't necessary to have duplicates.
Soon, everything would be gone, and it felt like that was exactly what you needed to happen.
Polly had the soup kettle on the stove, and whatever it was, smelled amazing.
"Oi!" Tommy, you could hear through the cracked window, was already hounding Johnny Dogs as they made passes in and out of the barn where two kids were packing books in apple crates, "Johnny, if a one of those go missing, me wife will know, eh? Tell the Lee girls she's counted, and they need to ask before they take any of the books!"
Johnny gave a nod as he ran off after two of the smaller girls, hand flying to his head to keep the flat cap in place from the breeze.
As you finished dicing the last of the carrots for the soup, you popped the last of it in your mouth, before immediately spitting it back in your hand, a look of disgust crossing your face.
Ada laughed, the first laugh you had heard all day, "What was that face for?"
You took a sip of the now cool tea on the table. Carrots were your favorite vegetable and it tasted absolutely revolting.
"Oh no. I've just put all these in the soup and they taste terrible," the stress, was that what it was, that had tears brimming at your eyes?
Polly sat the stack of old newspapers down on the table, now bare without a table cloth, as she turned to face you. The inquisitive brow quirk already on her face as her lips twitched up in a hidden smile.
"What?" You could feel yourself flush as the words passed your lips.
“Poll,” Ada started, speaking before the other woman could move, the conversation something you were oblivious to what was meant, “you need to ask people before just grabbing them!”
“Well, now I can tell, I don’t need to grab.” She looked at you from the side, “you’ve hitched your skirt up to the ribs because it’s gotten tight the last couple weeks, hm?”
Ada’s eyes grew wide, freckled cheeks allowing a smile as you could still feel the confusion on your face, shaking your head as the door closed before you had time to take offense.
“What’s all this, eh?” Tommy passed between the two of them, oblivious to the women’s talk he had just interrupted, placing a kiss on your cheek before commandeering the knife and taking half of the questionable carrot for himself as you adjusted the strap of the older set of braces that were slipping off his shoulder.
“Don’t eat that, it tastes disgusting,” you gestured to the once bitten chunk in your own hand as he snapped it in half with a slow shake of his head, unsure of the issue at hand.
“It tastes fine, love.”
“Thomas, no wonder you’d sleep with the horses most nights,” Polly boxed his ear as she tried to shoo him from the kitchen.
“It’s ‘cause I am a horse, Poll,” Ada snorted and you couldn’t help but feel yourself go beet red as you understood the way she twisted his words, “Well?” He asked, shaking his head in the way he would when he wanted his question answered.
You silently did the math. Your clothes had gotten tight, your breasts always hurt, anything could make you cry, “I’m late.”
You watched the gears in your husbands head being turning again as he picked up the rest of the conversation that he had missed.
“Well don’t get to close to Pol, unless you want to know what we’re having, because she’ll be grabbing your chest to tell you if it’s a boy or a girl.”
He stole a kiss before you had time to be embarrassed that anyone was present, brushing your stomach gently before you had the wind knocked out of you by the amount of joy that was contained in bright blue eyes.
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