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#Bad makeup doesn't turn a man into a woman
coochiequeens · 14 days
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How the hell was this guy walking around free to terrorize a community? He should have been still locked up for his previous crimes.
By Anna Slatz April 14, 2024
A serial sex offender has been convicted of assaulting a disabled teen girl in Wisconsin. Adam Hetke, who identifies as a female vampire named Sabrina, has a lengthy criminal history involving multiple sex offenses against women and outstanding charges related to a homicide.
Hetke, 35, was charged in July of 2021 with first-degree sexual assault by threatening the use of a dangerous weapon and second-degree sexual assault of a mentally ill victim. The assault occurred in Waukesha, and involved a 16-year-old cognitively disabled girl Hetke had met at a local gas station.
According to the complaint, Hetke terrified the girl, telling her he was a “vampire” who would harm her if she did not comply with his demands. He then followed her to her nearby home and sexually assaulted her. During the assault, Hetke kept a knife nearby and threatened to use it to harm her before the girl jumped out of a bedroom window and fled for help.
When he was arrested, he was wearing a one-piece swimsuit under his clothes and was holding a knife.
During trial, Hetke underwent a number of assessments to determine his ability to stand trial, but was found to be competent and deemed ineligible for the insanity plea. On April 11, Hetke was convicted on both counts he was charged with, and is set to be sentenced on June 7.
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Hetke as of 2024. Photo Courtesy of the Waukesha Police Department.
But this is not Hetke’s first run-in with law enforcement.
Hetke is a registered sex offender in the state of Wisconsin, dating back to a 2007 conviction for second degree sexual assault. At the time, Hetke had been staying at a residential facility, and he physically overpowered a female staff member before groping her repeatedly. The victim was able to escape his grip and get away.
For the assault, Hetke was sentenced to 8 years in prison with 4 years on extended supervision, and was ordered to the sex offender registry for life.
Just before his release on January 26, 2016, the Waukesha Police Department warned the community that Hetke was at “high risk” to reoffend. In the announcement, they noted Hetke had no fixed residence, but that he would be monitored by a GPS tracker.
In 2019, Hetke was convicted once more of sexual assault involving a female victim, and was released from prison in 2020. The police bulletin again noted that Hetke was homeless and would be subjected to GPS monitoring, but also indicated that Hetke had begun identifying as a “woman.”
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Following his second release from prison, Hetke was allegedly involved in a homicide in Milwaukee, for which he has yet to stand trial.
According to the complaint in that case, Hetke reportedly strangled a man to death using a power cord in April of 2021, though he apparently blamed the murder on a “demon.” He told Milwaukee police that the victim was “possessed by a demon” and began stabbing himself in the chest with tongs.
Hetke said he was only trying to exorcise the demon from the victim, but that the demon caused the victim to wrap a cord around his own neck and pull the ends. But a witness in that case has testified that Hetke admitted to murdering the man because he “disrespected” him, and that Hetke told the witness he was an incarnation of Satan.
Hetke is set to appear in court for that case on April 30.
According to the Wisconsin Sex Offender Registry, Hetke goes by a number of aliases including: Sabrina, Morrigan, Black Dragon, White Chocolate, Katie, and Andre.
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Three for One 1
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: As a customer service associate, you're used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what's on the shelf.
Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale
Note: Right, this was supposed to be a drabble series but it morphed and not I'm fucked.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. Take care. 💖
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It's the most special time of year! Mistletoe, jingle bells, and holiday cheer! Oh, and hot chocolate. Lots of that.
You hide your thermos under the desk and grab the crystal bottle again, giving a test spritz to the air. Your job isn't very complicated. All you do is say hi and chat about the perfume. Your manager says the job is selling but you don't like to see it that way.
You smile at a family of five as they veer towards the toy section. You don't think the six year old would be into an eau de parfum. It's understandable.
While you spend your hours wandering around expensive makeups and scents, you're filled with a certain hint of longing. For what you're paid to push the merchandise, you can't afford any of it yourself. Well, you've never been very materialistic.
You spin around and see a gentlemen approaching, though he doesn't seem to see you. He looks past you, almost through you. You stop in place and put on your best smile, fixing the red band around your head.
"Hello, sir, would you like to try some Gucci?" You offer and spray the nozzle at him.
He skids to a stop and recoils as if he's been slapped. He holds out his arm as he looks down at his coat, little droplets seeping into the fabric. He takes a whiff, his short mustache wiggling under his nose, and he scoffs as he tries to shake off the cologne.
"What the fuck are you doing?" He snips.
"Sorry, sir, I didn't mean to scare you."
"You just go around spray people with that horseshit?"
"Well, sir, with respect, I don't like that sort of language.
"And I don't like being drenched in dog piss," he blusters, "point me to the goddamn trimmers."
"Um, what kind? Nail trimmers? Pet trimmers? Garden trimmers?"
"What the fuck do you think?" He points to his own face.
You hold your smile. There's always that one customer who's having a bad day. Whatever's got him so upset must be worse than dealing with him.
"Personal care," you point to the far corner, "right over there, sir."
"Ugh," he stomps and storms off.
"I hope your day gets better," you call after him, "oh, did you want a store coupon--"
He ignores you as he waves you off over his shoulder. You watch him turn towards men's grooming and you shrug, rocking slightly. You try not to let them get to you. As jolly as you find this time of year, a lot of people don't feel the same.
You shrug off the encounter. You still have a few hours ahead of you and it's starting to bustle with customers. You help a couple find the home wares while keeping the boundary of cosmetics firm. Lucille, the manager, doesn't like you leaving your zone.
You approach a woman looking at the Prada selection and get her checked out with a new fragrance, specially gift-wrapped by yours truly. She leaves happy, a small victory for the day. You celebrate but not too much.
You come around the counter just as you see that man strutting back up. He has an item in his hand and ignores you as he passes. Still you smile at him.
"Annoying," he mutters under his breath.
"Need help finding anything else, sir?" You ask his heels.
He stops and you see the way his spine stiffens. Oh no, you shouldn't have said anything. He slowly turns to face you.
"You can shut up," he marches up to you and grabs the bottle from your hands, "shut." He sprays you in the face, "up." He squirts you several more times before shoving the vial against your chest, "stupid little girl."
You take the bottle, blinking as you use your cuff to wipe the perfume away from your eyes. He continues on his path as you stand dumbfounded, drenched in Gucci cologne. It's hard to breathe through the heavy scent and you can't help but cough.
What a jerk. Just because he's having a bad day, doesn't mean everyone needs to.
Slowly you grow accustomed to the smell of yourself. It’s not too unusual. You go nose blind about halfway through your shift once you spray a few too many samples. You keep your distance from customers, offering them a spritz but trying not to crowd them with the vapors of cologne rippling off of you.
You yawn as the afterwork rush floods in and you make another round, smiling at Sofia as she peeks over at you. She’s with another customer at the counter, ringing them up as she gabs. You spin at the display at the center of the crossway that runs through the beauty department and stagger back before another can run you over.
You apologise to the tall man as he skids to a stop on his soles. You can tell he’s in a hurry by the way he grips his briefcase and squares his jaw. He wears a long dark wool coat as flecks of snow melt into his thick beard.
“Oh, sorry, I er, wasn’t–” He clears his throat, collecting himself, “I… didn’t see you.”
“That’s okay, sir,” you assure him, “would you like to try the new scent?”
You hold up the onyx bottle but don’t spray him. You don’t need another dousing. He looks at the silver letters on the side then at you. The furrow in his brow lightens as his blue eyes swim.
“No thanks, but er, you think you could help me find something?”
“Of course,” you chime and lower the bottle, “are you looking for a gift for someone special?”
He nods, “my mother-in-law is on her way into town, I need a present. Maybe perfume?”
His tone is tinted with frustration as he reaches up to rub the back of his neck. He lets out a long sigh. He’s one of those shoppers; the last minute scrambler. You grasp the vial in one hand and tug at the front of your thick red sweater, you’re starting to get a bit toasty in the crowded store.
“How old is she?” You ask.
“Um,” he clamps his lips together and thinks, “hmmm, probably seventy-something? I’m sorry, I guess I should know that.”
“That’s okay, I… I would suggest some Liz Taylor,” you turn on your heel and wave him after you as you head off, “it’s a classic. Not so much a me scent but the older crowd likes it. Oh, and it’s on special so your wallet won’t hate it, either.”
You stop by the Diamonds display as you face him again. He follows at a pace and stops before the shelf, perusing the gold caps and crystal caps. He considers the rack in deep thought.
“Here,” you set down your bottle on a nearby table of seasonal decorations and take one from the display. You slip out a strip of cardstock and spray it with the sampler, “this one is gardenia. That was her favourite scent. It’s probably the least pungent.”
You offer him the sample and he eyes it. He slowly bends and sniffs the end of the paper. He wiggles his nose. It makes you sneeze too. As much as you’re a fan of the classic actress, her scents are dated.
“Smells like her,” he grumbles under his breath, “sure, I’ll take that.”
“Great,” you declare and trade the sampler for a boxed bottle, then retrieve your disposed Gucci vial, “would you like me to check you out, sir?”
“Is it faster?” 
“I can be fast,” you promise him, “this way.”
You go around the sparkling counters and he meets you across the till. You type in your log in, taking several tries to get your passcode right. The man places his briefcase on the counter,a hand resting on the edge.
“You know a lot about this stuff?” He prompts.
“Yeah, I guess,” you smile as you scan the perfume and tap the special offer on the screen, “kinda part of the job.”
“Hmm” he hums again, in that thoughtful manner. You look at him but he’s not looking at your face, “that’s a nice sweater.”
You look down at the red wool speckled with pearls. It’s new and one of your favourites already. You can’t help a little wiggle of your shoulders, “thanks!”
“Very… cheerful,” he muses as he takes out his wallet, “wish I could say the same of what awaits me.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, sir, it’s that time of year, I guess,” you push the debit machine towards him and he taps his credit card, “I’m sure your mother-in-law will love the perfume.” The transaction approves and the receipt prompts, “would you like an email?”
“Nah, that’s fine,” he tucks his credit card away.
“Would you like it gift-wrapped?” You offer, “it’s free?”
He hovers his hand over his briefcase as he considers it. His eyes meet yours and his cheek dimples, “alright, yeah, that’s… that’s perfect. Thank you.”
“No problem,” you beam back at him, “let me just get some tissue paper…”
You murmur to yourself as you grab some gold tissue paper and a white gift bag with a Christmas tree embossed into the side. You carefully line up the small box on the paper and begin your intensive work. You're a master wrapper, you used to work at the wrapping station in the mall.
“What about you?” He asks before the silence can stretch too far, “you seeing family for the holidays? When you’re not working?”
“Um,” you smile as you look up, “I’m just hanging out with my dog. I bought him a bone.”
“A dog,” he nods, “your family live out of town?”
Usually, you ask the questions. It’s easier that way. It deflects the attention from you. It’s why you like the job; you can hear all about others and not have to think about yourself.
“Yeah, something like that,” you slip the wrapped box into the bag and fluff the tissue paper.
“Eh!” The loud exclamation makes you jump as the man merely turns his head, a tic in his jaw. His eyes narrow as another customer approaches, strutting with hands in his jacket pocket as he calls out, “Barber, what the hell?”
Your customer shifts towards the man, heels squeaking on the floor, “Hugh.”
“Don’t Hugh me, asshole,” the other man retorts, “you said you were busy? What’s the matter, you lose too much money last time?”
“Suzette is in town. Family dinner,” the man, Barber, drones dully.
“Ah, ditched for the old crone, I get it.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Well, wouldn’t you know it, poker night was canceled, something about not enough seats,” the man counters sharply.
“Next week,” the first man growls.
“Hey, you,” the man in the russet coat snaps his fingers in your direction, “you got some of that Acqua di Gio. That dumb girl over there said you’re sold out.”
Your brows pop up and you swallow tightly. He’s another type. The arrogant demander. He doesn’t hear no. He’ll ask everyone the same question in hope of getting a different answer.
“We are out of stock, sir, but I could order it in for you,” you suggest.
“Order in? I can just go on Amazon, thanks for nothing,” he chops his hand at you dismissively.
“Hey,” the other man nudges his chest, “be nice. She’s working.”
“What? I’m here to spend money and they got shit all–”
“It’s December,” the other man reproaches before he turns back to you, “sorry, my friend is a jerk.” He accepts the gift bag as you hold it out, “thank you. You saved me.”
“No problem, but er, I was gonna say,” you turn to the other man, “sir, I have some samples of the Armani. I could give you those while you wait for the order.”
“Samples?” He echoes, “how many?”
“Let me have a look,” you back up and go to the drawer at the back of the checkout.
“I gotta get going, miss,” the first man waves his hand as you peek over your shoulder, “have a happy holiday.”
“You too,” you chirp back and find the last few tubes of Armani. You claim them and prance back to meet the new customer at the counter, “I have five.” You lay out your wares, “if I order in a bottle it’ll be in just before Christmas.”
“Two weeks?” He puffs.
“I’m sorry, sir, that’s the earliest I can do. It’s the last day I can guarantee delivery before Christmas.”
“Talk, talk, talk, order it,” he snaps.
“Right, let me just…” you open the shop and search up the scent. You add it to the cart and proceed. “Alright, got that, did you want it shipped for pick up here or to your address.”
“Here, they can never fucking find my house,” he sniffs.
“Great, so when it arrives, we’ll give you a call. You’ll also get an email to confirm.”
“What’s going on here?” He points at you suddenly. You look down again at your sweater but don’t see anything amiss. You flinch as he reaches to pinch one of the pearls, “what is this?”
“Oh, I… my sweater,” you raise your head, swallowing down the insult. It’s cute!
“Huh, Walmart clearance, huh,” he scoffs, “alright, how much are you robbing me for?”
He reaches into his coat as you hit total. You read out the final amount but he doesn’t pull out a card; he hands you cash. You count the bills, twice over, then give him his change. He looms with impatient huffs.
“Here’s your receipt,” you hand him the strip of paper. “Have a good day, sir.”
“Mmm,” he pokes his tongue into his cheek as he shoves the receipt into his pocket, “actually, while I’m here, I’d like a new sweater. You can help me and I’ll show you what real quality is.”
You almost laugh. Not spitefully, it’s just a bit silly. He’s competing with you, a perfume pusher.
“Well, sir, I can point you towards men’s fashion but I’m not able to leave this department, I’m sorry,” you give a sheepish smile.
“Oh no, good girl wouldn’t want to break the rules,” he rolls his eyes, “goody goody and her precious little smile.” He hooks his thumbs in his pockets, “my shit better be in by Christmas.”
He twists and strides away. You watch him go but not for long as you’re quickly distracted by a customer looking at the Britney Spears collection. Those are easy sellers.
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yallemagne · 8 months
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why does sleepwalking women and gothic horror go hand in hand
You asking me?
The answer is voyeurism.
Here's the thing about gendered horror: the goddamn eroticism. You can't escape it, people want to get their rocks off even when they're terrified-- especially when they're terrified! It's such popular imagery because of the intimacy of a woman with all her hair let down in only a white nightgown highlighted by the pale moonlight. A nightgown is very innocent in its intimacy, there's nothing inherently sexual about it, but that just gets people even more horny! No structured garments underneath-- she's wearing breeches obviously but shhh no she's totally naked save for some sheer billowing fabric.
EDIT: oh my god blah blah blah "breeches! actually she wouldn't be wearing those!! oh my god, they got it wrong, just shoot them in the streets, your honour!" FINE SHE'S NOT WEARING ANY PANTIES UNDER THERE, GOOD FOR YOU YOU GOT ME.
Gasp! Unprotected purity! I sure hope no dastardly villain tarnishes this woman! (they do. they do hope for that actually)
This isn't a very fun answer, is it? But it's worth saying. Horror explicitly involving women tends to be very visual with plenty of (arguably) sexual imagery. Men get the mindboggling horrors inconceivable to the human psyche while women are limited to being eye candy who faint before their minds can even be boggled (no that isn't a euphemism). Even when the women in question previously had a larger role in the story than "sexy lamp", pop culture will be quick to reframe it in the way that has the most sex appeal.
But like... let's take the woman's perspective: you're in a state of undress and completely unaware of your surroundings. It's dark and anyone lurking around at this time might very well have bad intentions, and they might turn those bad intentions on you. And you'll be blamed for being in the wrong place, at the wrong time, in the wrong dress. Terrifying. And people don't really appreciate the terror of it because... it's pretty, isn't it?
But then Lucy is weeping in her sleep, and Mina is covering her feet in mud for propriety. Because who knows what a man will do to them if he sees her naked feet? They're both cowering in fear hoping a drunken man doesn't take notice of them. Because who knows what he'll do to them if he sees two young ladies out at night? They're sweating from not just exertion but stress, and their messy hair clings to their frightened faces. They cannot tell anyone. Because who knows what toll this night might take on their good reputations?
It's not pretty. There's no see-through dresses (seriously their nightgowns are made of fucking linen, not organza), no flowing locks, no full faces of makeup, just pure society-ingrained horror.
But cis men don't typically understand that horror because they aren't usually victim to it. It honestly makes me sad and angry that the imagery is so prominent (and in such a watered-down and bland "sexy" way) because it reduces the actual horror these two protagonists face to nothing more than an audience's voyeuristic fantasy in which the women are only objects to be gawked at. The danger is reframed as tantalizing and enticing "ooo good girls (unknowingly) being bad in their sleep!" rather than... they could have fucking died. Or worse.
... But I still want to draw my girls (Jonathan, Mina, and Lucy) in cute nightgowns, so I'll bite my tongue.
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ghostssweetgirl · 1 year
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jealousy simon 'ghost' riley x reader (smut)
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Pairing: fem reader x simon 'ghost' riley [smut]
CW: fem reader, fem pronouns used, slight dom ghost, jealousy, alcohol intake, possessive/jealous/makeup sex, p in v sex
nsfw under the cut ! minors , do not interact !! 18 ++ !!
alternate version here
word count: 2.6k~
Always being close to your Lieutenant Ghost, it wasn't ordinarily weird when you went out to pubs, bars, or the combined, such as where you'll be tonight - a busy bar/restaurant downtown. Except for this time, you had been in your feelings and discovered your own towards your superior. You contemplated telling him, but to be safe, you wanted to wait until you had a few drinks in, in case he doesn't accept it, you can blame it on the alcohol. (lmao blame it on the a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a alcohol 🤪 I'm so funny guys... LAUGH OR ELSE😈)
You ordered your first drink and found a table to sit at while waiting for him. Of course, it would be hard not to notice him, as big of a man as he was. So, you busied yourself on your phone in the meantime. 
--
15 minutes go by and you sigh, looking up to the entrance at the right time when he walked in. Your face instinctually lit up, waving at him. He returned the wave before gathering a bartender's attention and being handed a bottle of whiskey as he made his way over to you, grunting as he sat down. 
"What's up, Lieutenant?" fuck you were already being awkward.
He tilted his head, noticing you acting strange but not pushing it. "Hello to you, too."
You grabbed the menus and handed him one before barely skimming through it, closing it, and setting it back. None of their entrees looked appetizing, so you're going with safe food.
"I don't know why you grab a menu. Y'always get the same thing," he joked. "Tenders and chips."
"And you always get a steak. Medium rare with scalloped potatoes and mac n' cheese," you played along. You knew him well, if not better than he knew you. Who were you kidding, he was a very observant man. You wouldn't be surprised if he knew more about you than you thought. 
"Guess you do pay attention," he chuckled as he closed his menu. He lifted his mask and took a long swig of whiskey. 
--
After you enjoy your meals, you drink about 6 [or however many cups/shots you want, idc] more cups while Ghost's on his second bottle, you're filled with laughter, and feel very giddy. Your body jolted as you remembered what you wanted to tell him tonight, and by gauging his mood, it really wouldn't be a bad idea, especially at this point. 
"Need another one. Be back," he told you, getting up to the bar. It was pretty busy now, a bunch of women gathered at the front. 
You tried to keep your eyes off of him, and you even picked up your phone to attempt to distract yourself, but it stayed in your hand, falling to the table as you watched what was happening. A woman, a very attractive one honestly, peeked at Ghost, checking him out and smiling ear to ear as she approached him. You figured of course he would look, she's showing off her whole body in that damn outfit she was wearing. You couldn't read her lips because of that damned big smile, but it was very obvious she was flirting. 
You watched as her hand bravely snaked up his forearm. He turned his head slowly, and his eyes scanned over her body. Oh, how your heart sank. But you pursed your lips, nearly fighting back tears as you watched the interaction. He shifted in his step, still waiting for his bottle. His head bobbed as he spoke, and you only hoped he wasn't reciprocating her intentions. 
And if that wasn't bad enough, soon as two barstools cleared up, they sat next to each other. Your breath fastened as you kept trying to pry your eyes away. His hand lay on the small of her back while she sat up on the stool. You're finally able to look away, rage filling your head as you pick up your wallet and pull enough cash to cover the bill and then some, with a hefty tip. 
What the fuck was taking so long for the drinks, and why the fuck was he touching her? At this point, you didn't want to know. You were ready to confess your feelings, to hope that you could call him yours, but of course, some slut would pull him away - ruin your chance. You almost saw red as you huffed, picking up your stuff and storming out the door, walking a good while to where you parked, damn the busy city. 
She'll keep him busy, y/n, don't worry. He won't notice you're gone, and sure as hell won't care - you told yourself. 
You were about 10 feet from your car when you surprisingly heard a deep voice calling your name, getting closer every second. 
"Y/N!" he called.
You ignored him, booking it into your car, and fiddling with the keys to unlock it. Goddamn, if he wasn't as fast as he was, you barely got your key into the door when he took your keys away from the door, grabbed your wrist, turning you to face him.
"What the bloody hell has gotten into you, y/n?" he asked in a stern voice, concerned. "You've been acting weird all night, talk to me."
You rolled your eyes. You bit your tongue as you didn't want to say anything too mean, but fuck if you weren't livid with him. It wasn't his fault, you knew that. You know he didn't know and couldn't read your damn mind, but for some reason you expected him to. You huffed, not being able to help your venomous tone as you replied, "Nothing! Nothing is wrong! I'm going home!"
You once again try to open the door, hurriedly trying to escape. 
He slammed the car door shut, towering over you, almost raising his voice. "What the fuck is your problem, y/n? Fuckin' tell me. I'm not going back and forth with you and I'm not fucking chasing you. Tell me what the fuck is wrong."
Tears pricked your eyes, finally falling as you stammered, trying to find the words. You gave up, looking at the ground. Very careful with his words, he gently cupped your chin. "Hey, hey. Come on," he sighed. "Don't give me a hard time. Just tell me."
"I-I just wish you would notice how I feel for you, Ghost! I've had a fucking crush on you for... I don't know how long now! And seeing you flirt with that... that bitch! I just... I got so mad, I was..." you sniffled, stopping yourself from going on a ramble and trying not to be disrespectful towards some random girl who honestly didn't deserve it as you knew it wasn't right to hate on people. 
"Flirtin'? I was flirtin' with her? Sweetie, no..." He wiped your tears away with his thumbs, carefully not to smudge your eyeliner. "Fuckin' hell, I'm sorry. That was nothing, y/n. It meant nothing."
"Yeah, right," you scoff, finding it hard to believe him, remembering how he was looking at her. "I'm sorry. I should have never said anything. Please, just let me go home."
"Y/n... Let me get us an Uber... We've been drinkin' luv," his voice softened, showing genuine concern for you. While it was somehow convincing, you still felt anger. "Will you let me come home with you? Please."
You don't think you've ever heard him say 'please' like this before. You fought with yourself mentally, until of course, you caved in. 
"Whatever," you replied. 
--
You didn't talk to him on the drive home, making it obvious you were mad at him as you faced yourself against the window. He tried to touch your shoulder in comfort but you pushed him away. When the car finally came to a stop, you got out in a hurry, and for no reason, sped walk to your door even though you know full and damn well you invited him back here with you. 
You locked yourself in the bathroom as you needed a moment to straighten up and change into pajamas. 
--
Finally calming down, you walk to your hallway. Looking back and forth between your bedroom and the living room, your body moved on its own to where he was. 
You both make eye contact as you come and sit down. You sit down, hugging your thighs to your chest. "So..."
"So. You have feelings for me, yeah?"
"Yeah... I guess I do, so now what? I ruined our friendship?" you shrugged, trying to find any bit of discomfort in his face - eyes - that damn mask. 
"No," he shook his head, leaning into his knees, keeping eye contact. "Not at all."
"Well," you look down. "Now what, Lieutenant?"
"Quit callin' me that."
As you find his eyes again, they seem more relaxed as they look you up and down. "Simon."
"Okay... Simon," you repeated his name.
Awkward fucking silence. Fuck it, you were going to sleep.
"Since we're fine, I'm going to sleep."
"Not yet you are," he softly groaned, getting up, listening to his knees crack before he knelt before you, a sight you must admit was heavenly. Knees spread on the ground, still at face level. His hands rested on his thick, muscular thighs. "Y/n... I do like you. Have for a long time."
You have to shake your head to look away from his bottom half. "Do you mean that? Or are you just saying that?"
He looked at your hands, softly pulling them away. Your thighs spread as they fell on the couch. His thumbs rubbed the top of your hands. "Mean that, truly." He pulled away from one hand, lifting his mask above his soft, pink lips before he planted a loving kiss on your hand, before turning it over to kiss at your palm, letting you cradle his face. 
You relaxed into his touch, a breath you've been holding for a while finally releasing. His soft eyes met yours for a moment, you saw the universe. Time stopped as you both leaned into a passionate kiss, he cups both sides of your face as he takes in all your mouth had to offer, every taste lingering from your fruity drinks mixed with his tobacco and whiskey combination. 
It wasn't long before he hoisted you up, letting your legs wrap around his torso while he blindly walked in the direction where your bedroom would be. The kiss only broke when he asked you which door to go into.
He hovered over you as he set you on your bed, the bed sinking in where his hands held himself up. He moved on from your lips to your jaw, sucking down into your neck, licking a stripe up your pulse. His knee maneuvered between your thighs, grinding into your heat, surely already sopping wet. Finally feeling how he touches you, kisses you, handles you - you could orgasm alone from just this. 
He lifted his hands, brushing over your lips which greedily took his index finger in, sucking on it, swirling your tongue around it, earning a sinful groan from Simon. He fixed his position, hiking his knees up next to your hips as he took his fingers out of your mouth with a pop of your lips, switching to another pair. 
His hand glides over your breast, sliding over your perked nipple, reaching underneath the band of your pajama pants, to the hem of your underwear. "You sure you want this, luv? Don't know that I can hold back if you say 'yes', doll..." he warned.
"Yes, yes, I want this," you breathed. With your consent, two thick, wet fingers found your throbbing clit, rubbing it in slow circles. Your body tensed as you gasped in pleasure, biting your lip as you looked into his dark, lustful eyes. 
"So fuckin' wet f'me. All for me, right, lovie?" he cooed.
"All- Oh! Only for you, Simon~!" you back bowed off the bed as you swear you were already approaching your first orgasm. His fingers spread your folds before finding your clenched hole. The squelch nearly bounced off the walls of your pussy as he slowly and eagerly pushed two fingers in, carefully pistoning his fingers inside of your spongy walls.
"Fuck~, so fuckin' tight and wet. Can't wait to fuck you silly. Make you feel so damn good, baby..."
"Simon!" you whined as he hit that spot, your pussy clenched relentlessly, making it harder for him to thrust in and out as your orgasm washed over you, gushing all over his fingers, slick and thickly coating his fingers. 
"What a good girl, yeah? You did so well, baby," he leaned forward, pressing his lips to your sweaty forehead as you caught your breath. He smirked as he cleaned off his fingers, and you embarrassingly watched, blushing as you saw his eyes roll back at the taste of you - your cum. "Ready for my cock, luv? Yeah?"
Oh, how you nodded before he even finished the sentence. He swiftly pulled your pants off before taking his off. He slapped your clothed pussy, watching your body shiver at the impact and chuckling at your state. 
You look down to see his cock, and your eyes widened. How you were going to take him, you didn't know but you knew it would ruin you~. 
He kissed at your naval before slowly pulling your underwear down. "Can you take all of me, lovie?"
"Mhm!" you were eager to please him, even though you were unsure if he would fit.
He teased his tip between your folds, gathering the remaining slick from your orgasm before pushing his thick head into you slowly. 
"Fuck! S-so big, Simon..." Your legs quivered but readied to lock around his hips. 
"Too tight, fuckin' hell..." he strained, having to physically hold back from slamming into you all at once. 
As he inched in deeper, your back arched higher and higher, eager to fully take him into you. He stretched you out nicely until his tip kissed your cervix, and he bottomed out. Your eyes squeezed shut as you gripped his shoulders, he leaned down to suckle at your neck, deafening his groans into your skin. 
"Don't stop, please... please," you begged. You needed more, needed him to ruin you and show you that he's yours and you his. 
"Fuckin' hell..." his eyes rolled back at your pleas, obliging instantly as he picked up the pace. Your tightness was surely going to milk him of all that he had, but he didn't think he could last too much longer due to the sweet, sweet melody he was creating from your moans that echoed off the walls. 
"Right there, Simon~! Oh my god!" your legs shook even as they were tightly locked around his waist. Your nails clutched at the back of his neck, so focused on the pleasure you didn't notice the wetness that was blood that was pooling around your nails from your scratches into him; he didn't care, he was getting off to pleasing you. 
"Cum with me, lovie..." he demanded softly.
White heat licked the back of your eyes before you saw stars, nearly blacking out. He falls on top of you as he paints your insides white, the heavy weight of his body was in fact very comforting, and you found yourself slipping off to sleep. 
He allowed you a moment before he woke you, wanting to help you clean yourself off before heading to bed. 
"You with me, darlin'?" he chuckled as he rubbed your cheek, lovingly staring into your eyes, looking over each feature of your face.
You smile. "Yeah, yeah, sorry. That was... so good."
He smirked, deeply chuckling. "Right, let's get you washed up, babe."
He helped you up, leading you to the bathroom, and that's mostly all you remembered of this night.
--
As you lay in bed, you smile yourself to sleep with Simon next to you. Before dozing off, you wondered...
Why was I mad again?
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agendabymooner · 7 months
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MASTERLIST: A-N F1 DRIVERS by agendabymooner
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LINK TO MASTERLIST: O-Z F1 DRIVERS by agendabymooner
LINK TO SOMETHING SINFUL (SMUT) MASTERLIST by agendabymooner (MINORS DNI)
note: I CANNOT OFFICIALLY FIT MY WORKS IN ONE POST 😭 so here is my alphabetical f1 masterlist!!!
legends/genre:
a = angst g = general fic hc = hurt/comfort h = humour
s = smut (minors, dni) mc = mature content (minors, dni) f = fluff
★ - newly added ♡ - favourite piece
ALSO CHECK OUT:
MOONY'S CHARACTER DIRECTORY
MOONY'S FILIPINO CHARACTERS DIRECTORY
alex albon (aa23)
front page lover (thai!kpop idol!ofc)
keeper, smau: polly berkshire has obscure interactions with her thirsty boyfriend and it's safe to say that they love each other.
fashion week, smau: the williams driver and polly always got something for everyone to talk about.
double aa, socmed snapshot: a series of instagram stories in which alex is a dad to alice albon
fernando alonso (fa14)
the breakup and makeup series (pro wrestler!ofc)
time to rock and roll, fic: the first time beatrice staedtlander and fernando alonso had broken up. (hc) ♡
heaven, smau: back in 2000s, fernando alonso and beatrice anastasia 'trish' staedtlander were every racing and wrestling fans' couple. years after, trish alonso became a mother and a wife... and the grid's crush of the season. fernando was certainly not happy so what's a better way to remind everyone that he was hers? (f, g, h)
from the ground up, smau: tino and tiago alonso were the twins that trish had given birth to at the age of 40, and everyone understood now why she didn't make it to the 2024 canadian gp. (f)
look what god gave her, smau: beatrice 'trish' alonso survived fernando's messy image better than anybody did. (f, g, h)
bonnie and the fame
maneater, smau: bonnie catherine sutton was carlos sainz's ex-girlfriend who returned to the f1 scene as a different woman. turns out, she's fernando alonso's fiancée (f)
ego, smau: never underestimate a woman's self-esteem, it might end up wounding you more than it would her.
oliver bearman (ob8)
ice ice baby, smau: kimi raikkonen's daughter romania raikkonen debuted in formula one with her friends AND it's safe to say that the iceman doesn't like ollie that much.
jenson button (jb22)
pride and pettiness (x british!actress!ofc)
one, 2004: in which, ada and jenson met for the first time.
the mr. darcy type, smau: much like the popular love interest, jenson should have known better than to say things that wouldn't impress a woman he grew interested in. OR ada abbott made sure that he worked hard for her time and attention. (f) ♡
shunt the hell up! (x hunt!driver!ofc)
shunt your lovers, kiss your enemies. smau: it was funny how enemies can be your teammate AND your lover at the same time. OR jj hunt, the daughter of the late james hunt, was jenson's biggest rival until a certain baby predicament cost her her entire racing career. (g) ♡
other works
affection, blurb: in which, jenson learned that he should just say it without being a little too drunk.
pierre gasly (pg10)
newsflash, smau: ensley soleil doesn’t like playboys. too bad, pierre gasly’s down bad for her (attention and love). (f, g, h)
odds, fic: their timing was always wrong, maybe that's why pierre should consider making it even for the two of them as she writes songs about him and their courtship. ★
lowkey, smau: fans thought that pierre moved on from ensley four months after publicly declaring his (love?) for her. funnily enough... (f, g, h)
indigo, chatfic + smau: there's really no reason for pierre gasly to be jealous over some man that ensley wrote 'high school in jakarta' about. not when she wrote one or more songs about the frenchman. (f) ♡
high school in jakarta, fic: meeting ensley’s close friends would also mean that he’d have to meet her high school sweetheart, who he believed he couldn’t compete against until ensley ensured that his two-day attendance wouldn’t be spoiled by some guy who couldn’t let go of some memories she couldn’t even remember. ♡ 
dancing with the devil, smau: ensley soleil doesn't care about what people are saying about her relationship with pierre especially now that she's married to him. (f)
vintage, smau: pierre gasly is a husband and a fanboy of ensley soleil gasly amongst other things. (f)
hot dad era, socmed snapshot: pierre gasly. 30% f1 driver 70% dilf. ★
other works
do i make you nervous, blurb: lesson learned: just date her first rather than being friendly in the bed.
lewis hamilton (lh44)
stevie and lewis (hearth sister!ofc)
thick and thin, smau + fic: lewis should know better than underestimating her and her capabilities to yearn for him for years. (hc)
hands on and paws on, socmed snapshot: lewis is a stay-at-home dad to lottie hamilton and his best boy, roscoe, happens to watch his mummys everywhere she goes as she carries baby hamilton #2. ★
the hamilton daycare, fic: lewis is already a stay-at-home dad so what makes his day out in monaco with his two kids any different? (f) (2/3 of daddy, debriefed!)
where the bad girls are (kpop idol!ofc)
lifted, smau: lewis is married to a kpop idol who happened to be one of the girls to shape the image of female groups in the korean pop community.
crowned couple (x miss universe!ofc)
the couple of the universe, smau: lewis is a careless being this season and everyone's wondering why.
melody series (x performer!ofc)
summary: with her sharp eyes focused on her audience, a burlesque performer who went under the name of melody returned to rythme romantique, an entertainment lounge which exclusively caters to the wealthiest people of monaco — or in this case, to the people with a status that are recognized by all. her three exclusive performances were meant to be a closure for her connections in the principality. still, a certain formula one driver saw it as an opportunity to reconnect with his former flame after two years of her absence. felicity vos learned that this was a rich man’s world and that he could do whatever he wanted, but she also realized that the agreement they settled on years ago was corrupted the moment he expressed his love for her. 
one, million dollar man: monaco was a world of glitz and glamour that she left two years ago. returning to the principality clearly was a huge mistake as she found herself talking to the man who swore to nothing but his love for her.
two, this is what makes us girls: "decorum isn't something you can buy with money or fame." or what did lewis really want from her and why did he show up on the second night of her performance?
arthur leclerc (al12)
the scheming schumachers, smau: sunny schumacher is mick's cousin and what does a family do? they attract arthur leclerc to get him away from his best friend, who happens to be mick's girlfriend. thankfully, the schumacher cousin is something of a welcome distraction for the monegasque.
charles leclerc (cl16)
the leclerc boys series (x hearth sister!ofc)
debunking drama, smau: prequel to of long lines and names; aimee hearth, the mclaren media manager and one of the famous hearth sisters, was rumoured to be dating lando norris. a certain monegasque's baffled reaction became a trending topic in twitter as he counteracts the rumour with an instagram post of his lover. (f, h)
of long lines and names, fic: five kids with (almost) five names under six years. OR the three pregnancies that charles had witnessed told him how motherhood and memories could come in two sets of twins and a boy that looked so much like him. (f)
the leclerc daycare, fic: before his last set of twins were born, charles had to watch his boys on his own- not exactly by himself when he's got esteban and pierre acting as his right hand men. (f) (1/3 of daddy, debriefed!) ♡
about names, scenario fics
summary: extension to of long lines and names and the leclerc daycare; charles and aimee's boys and their names go hand in hand OR times when the couple had to tell their kids that their names were signs of love and respect for their namesakes.
one, an amazing boy with an amazing name: hervé's anger left his parents confused after he refused to be called by his first name. thankfully, his mamé pascale had an easy access to his heart that eventually led to an answer to his sadness.
two, the wingman of maranello: jules leclerc learned two things as he travelled to italy with his father: he had an uncle named uncle teague and uncle teague had a best friend that was once charles' godfather.
other pieces
"slut", smau: charles' ex trashed his new girlfriend a while ago, but too bad he wasn't really into the thought of making music with anyone but lou villar.
breaking curses not hearts, smau: frankie bardot atkinson was also known for her curse in the film industry. after breaking her long streaked curse and finally won an oscar, was it finally charles' time to break his curse at monza gp?
kevin magnussen (km20)
family ties, smau: lando norris forgot that his brother-in-law is in the grid with him and lola norris magnussen couldn't help but make of her brother for it.
lando norris (ln4)
lover era (x alessandro sister!writer!ofc)
london boy, smau: nicola 'cola' alessandro moved to britain and what's a better way to introduce yourself to england than taking a trip around with a certain mclaren driver? (f, g, h)
i think he knows, smau: grazia nichols published her debut novel based off formula one, and a fan could have sworn that the the book bf - nolan langford - was based off of lando's character as a driver altogether. (f, g, h)
✿ honey, honey! series masterlist - lando norris x ofc (honey-sue lewis) ft. sidemen ★
f1 drivers (general)
✿ 9 to 5 series masterlist - f1 grid x ofc (lester alessandro) ft. fictional wolff kids
too much caring, smau, sv5 + jb22: kpop idol juno was assumed to have cheated on retired driver jenson button with his best mate sebastian vettel. oh how wrong those people were... ★
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lovelybucky1 · 7 months
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Bad Habits
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Kinktober Day 1- Porn
warnings: perv!neil, no ship or x reader, male masturbation, neil jerks off to porn, mention of porn addiction, cum eating, mild overstimulation, 18+ minors dni
masterlist
kinktober masterlist
Neil took a sigh of relief once he flipped around the open sign on the door to say closed. He has been pent up all day, ever since they got that shipment of porno tapes. The women on the boxes are lean and perky and so enticing, he just couldn’t help himself.
He had work to do so he managed to keep it in his pants, but now that the store was empty, he didn’t feel like waiting until he got home.
Neil turns off the lights in the store and makes his way to his small office. He shuts the door and sits down in his creaky desk chair. He turns his computer on and the display lights up with some boring email chain.
He opens a new tab and types in the familiar address. Within seconds, hundreds of naked images fill the screen and he is overwhelmed by the amount of choices. He scrolls down, looking at the suggested videos, but doesn’t find anything he’s into.
He moves his mouse up to the search box and types in “ditzy bitch chokes on dick.” It’s certainly not his most dignified search, but it’s exactly what he wants.
he clicks play on the first video that comes up. he’s seen it before, cum to it countless times, but he never tires of it. the sounds of wet squelching fill the small office as he watches the woman gag. the man attached to the sizable dick pistons his hips roughly, not caring about the woman's comfort.
there is no buildup, no preamble. the video jumps right into the action, which is exactly what neil likes. he hates the deliberate sensual touching, the piss-poor acting, and the breathy, seductive voices.
the camera angle switches to a closeup of the woman's face. her lips are stretched wide around the man's cock, her eyes brimmed with tears from repeatedly choking, and her angelic face absolutely ruined with running makeup and drool.
neil's cock leaks a hot spurt of precum at the sight. when he sat down, he had the intention of making it last, but stroking his cock quick and hard feels too good to want to stop. he forces his hand off of himself and sighs once the sensation is gone. he wants to make it at least to the end of the video.
once the urge to cum lessens, he begins to jerk off again, slower this time. he drags his fist from base to tip, squeezing tightly at the head to simulate the suction of the woman's lips.
neil nudges his mouse with his free hand to check the runtime on the video, seeing how much more self-induced torture he will have to endure before he can cum. 35 seconds.
he picks up the pace a bit, stroking faster and with a tighter grip. it feels so good, and even though it's his own hand, it feels heavenly. he had been so pent up all day, and now the friction combined with the pornstar on screen, he is quickly nearing the edge.
neil watches intently as the man twists his fingers in the woman's hair and pulls her in, forcing his cock down her throat and her nose against the pubes at the base.
he swears, hissing out a mix of praise and insults as he shoots his cum down her throat and she swallows it instinctively.
"fucking whore. yeah, take my fucking cum. swallow it all, how's that taste, huh? fucking disgusting."
the screen goes blank when the video ends, but neil is too close to care. he fucks his fist hard and fast, not slowing down when he cums on his hand. he strokes himself through it, milking every last drop of cum out of his balls.
just to prolong the torture, he gives his sensitive dick a few extra strokes until he is overstimulated. neil lets go and slumps back in his chair. he leans his head back and catches his breath, embarrassingly winded after jerking off.
once he musters the strength to deal with his mess, he sits up and assess the situation. he doesn't have any tissues or paper towels in his office, and he doesn't really want to wipe cum on his desk chair.
with a sigh, he brings his hand up to his mouth and licks the cooled cum off the skin. he doesn't care for the taste, but he supposes its better than having to explain the suspicious stains in his office to his coworkers.
neil finishes and feels a bit of shame over what he just did. he may be a pervert, a bit of a porn addict, but he does it in private. it's no one's business but his own.
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strwbmei · 3 months
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Wanna tie brat kafka up so bad omg-
Kafka doesn't cry. She is physically unable to feel fear, and sadness doesn't come easily to a woman like her. Though, when she met you, she discovered that those weren't the only two things that could make tears fall from her eyes.
Kafka almost never cries, but when she does, you doubt there is anything in the universe more beautiful. With her eyes glossy, voice trembling, hair disheveled, and makeup running down her face, you'd mistake her for a painting made by the gods themselves. A masterpiece reserved for only your eyes; and you plan to keep it that way.
Tonight, however, she went too far.
You two were sent to kill a high-ranking noble. It was a mission that could've been finished within a few hours with the two of you, but Kafka— instead of going in, shooting the target, and leaving— decided to seduce him instead. Right in front of you. She claims that it's to be safe, but you can see her flash a grin your way every time she clings onto the man's arm. She's more than capable of killing him on the spot. She could destroy the very planet you were standing on right this second if she so willed it. Safe to say, the mission ended when you took matters into your own hands.
Now she's tied to the bed, limbs completely restrained while a vibrator is bound to her clit at its highest setting. Your fingers pump unrelentlessly fast in and out of her cunt while she cries for you to slow down. All of this could have been avoided if she hadn't been such a brat. You're more than patient enough with her bullshit, and this is how she repays you? Even though her voice is hoarse from all of the moaning and the overstimulation burns so much that it hurts, you can still see the slight upturn of the corners of her mouth. Who would've thought that such a cruel woman would have such masochistic tendencies?
It seems you'll have to turn the punishment up even more. You aren't stopping until the sheets are soaked with her squirt, her legs aren't working anymore, and most of all, until she learns to listen for once.
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aspirationalpeony · 4 months
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What She Deserves
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Summary: Melissa hears a painful truth, and you're there to help her recover. Content Warnings: Unhealthy coping mechanisms, discussion of infidelity, emotional neglect, emotional abuse, disordered eating. Don't worry, it's all hurt/comfort! AO3 Link
You come home one day, and she's crying.
There were warnings when you entered the house: Her high-heeled Docs, discarded sloppily like she'd yanked them off right in the doorway. The open bottle of wine and the lipstick-smeared glass on the low table in front of the plastic-covered couch, a stack of photo albums just by them, a few opened and in disarray. Her leather jacket thrown right onto the carpeted floor. You knew there was something going on--a bad day with the double class? A fight with Barbara?--and you squared your shoulders as you went up the stairs.
You weren't, aren't, ready for what you hear. You've never heard her cry like that, in real, deep sobs, body-wracking things that must be shaking her to the roots. You find yourself hovering outside the bedroom door, just listening for long, awful seconds, trying to understand it, that that sound could be coming from Melissa. And knowing, because you know her, that she doesn't want you to hear this. That there'll be a fight if you go in that room. No matter how desperate she is to be held and comforted--first, there'll be a fight.
It's how she's always been. Your tears turn her buttery-soft, gentle and sweet, her rough edges showing only when she offers to beat the shit out of whoever's hurt you. But her tears? Her tears are a vulnerability. And Mel--she can't stand being vulnerable. When she knows she's showing weakness, that there's a chance someone, anyone, even you, could go in for the kill, her claws come out, twice as long and sharp.
(She told you, one time, about her dad; how Kristen-Marie's tears would make him do anything to soothe her, turning the gruff, remote man into a teddy bear, cradling his baby girl in his arms. How Melissa's tears would turn him mean, how she was the eldest, she was supposed to take care of her family, and here she was howling and whining like a pathetic pissant baby, and she should go help her Nana with dinner and her siblings with their homework and stop bothering her dad, who worked so hard, sunup to sundown, to provide for this fuckin' family, and don't fuckin' touch me again, Melissa Ann.)
You're getting to be okay with it. She's getting to be better with it, too, which helps. But you know this isn't going to be a time she can reel herself in and catch that anger before it flares. You need to be there for her. You open the door.
She's at her vanity table. You love that she has one of those things; it's so Old Hollywood, covered in the skincare and makeup that didn't fit into her bathroom, a secret stash of gummy bears in one drawer, a picture of her and her Nana, framed, where she can look at it whenever she needs her. You love that picture, Melissa looking so terribly young, her hair still dark and undyed, her Nana with those green Schemmenti eyes and a look of profound love and pride on her aged face.
When she hears the door creak open, Melissa whips around to look at you. She's not that girl in the photo anymore, but you see shades of her in her crumpled, flushed, tear-stained face; you see that woman, young and hurt and afraid, behind the armor that she's been building for so long, layer on layer.
"Baby," you say.
"Fuck off," she barks at you. You wince. She winces, too, hearing herself; her brows knit and her head ducks and she trembles as she fights another sob. "Sorry, I'm sorry, I--" her voice is hoarse. "Babe, fuck, just go," she whines, sounding like somebody else, some scared, struggling stranger. "Just go, I don't, I don't--" you can hear so many ends to that sentence: I don't want you to see me like this. I don't want to hurt you just because I'm hurting. I don't want you to know how vulnerable I am.
"Hey," you say, "it's okay, it's okay," like she's a hurt kid or a shying horse, and every instinct in you calls for you to put your arms around her, pull her to your chest the way she does you when you cry. Instead, you move closer--slowly--and you sit with her. You get down on the floor, maybe a foot from her chair, and you don't touch her. She looks at you with her mouth twisted and eyes narrowed. Tears are still trickling from her reddened eyes; her body is shaking with it.
You want to cradle her face in your hands. You've learned she can't take it, not when she's in the middle of the feeling; she can't stand being touched at all. She has to get the emotions out in their first, horrible frenzy, and then she can let herself be comforted, once the frightened, angry, hurt little girl inside has let go of the wheel and let the grown woman take back over.
Her hands are fists on her thighs. There's something crumpled in one of them, a paper.
"Baby, what happened?" you say.
"You should just fuck off," she says hoarsely. "You should just fuck off outta my life. You're gonna, anyway, so--" her face pinches. She fights another sob that shakes her whole body. Her mascara is a wreck. "I'm gonna hurt you," she says, "and you're gonna hurt me, and I can't take it. I can't take it, so, so--"
"What happened?" You lean forward. A little glimmer of intuition comes. Your own eyes are starting to tear up, seeing her, but your head stays level. You can't get whipped up into her pain or you won't be able to help. "Did Joe do something?"
Now she lets the sob out, deep and hoarse. Her clenched fist opens and the paper drops. You recognize it once its face is turned up on the floor: it's a photo from one of the old albums she still keeps, one of the loving records she'd made of a marriage that failed. She let you look through them a few times. ("I don't keep them 'cause I want him back or nothin'," she'd told you. "He can drop dead, for all I care. But I..." A cloud passed over her face then, troubled and sad, and you didn't push; you knew she was giving you a privilege letting you see her like this, much less look at these mementos of a young woman desperate to be loved.)
The photo is her and Joe cutting the cake at their wedding. It's a four-tier monstrosity, probably made by a Schemmenti relative, with thick frosted swags and rosettes and topped with a hokey little bride and groom. Mel's in her big puff-shouldered princess dress, her huge eighties hair and thick makeup. Joe's got a five o'clock shadow and looks like hell from his bachelor party the night before. She's told you how hurt and lonely she was that day, even though she's smiling in all the pictures; how she starved herself, ate one meal a day and drank nothing but water, getting ready to fit into her dress, and he rolled out of bed an hour before the wedding, hungover, stifling burps through the ceremony.
"What happened?" you repeat.
"Nina called," she says.
You straighten. "Are they getting married?" It would make sense: the tears, the photo, the terror of being left again. That sack of shit Joe, you're going to take Edith Houghton and--
"What? No," she says, so startled by the suggestion she's speaking in her own voice again, not the one hoarse and strained by tears. "No, they're not--no." Her other hand opens in her lap and she looks down at the pair of them. You can see her trying to make herself relax, make herself stop crying and shouting. "Sorry, baby," she whispers, "I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt ya. I didn't mean..."
"I know." If you took Melissa at her word every time she cursed, well... "I'm not fucking off anywhere. Can you tell me what happened?"
She gives you a look, harrowed and bruised, then drops her gaze back to her hands. She opens and closes her fingers, working on herself still. "Nina called. I was still at the school. She called to thank me for dinner," she says roughly. "And she said she had to tell me somethin'. She said..."
No marriage. Your next thought is, Oh my god, she's pregnant. That's one of the sorest subjects of Melissa's whole life, and if Nina had the audacity to tell Melissa that over the phone, while she was at work, to deliver such crushing, awful--where's Edith Houghton, you really are going to--
"She thanked me for dinner," Melissa repeats. She's getting more control and tips her head back against the welling of tears in her eyes, like it will save her makeup now. She's staring at the ceiling when she says, "Nina said she had somethin' to tell me, because she knew you and me, and her and Joe, all of us, were gettin' closer, like bein' friends."
That's true. You aren't so crazy about the Joe you know from Melissa's stories, but apparently he's a changed man now, and you can still see shades of the guy Melissa liked so much: his silver head of hair still full and sleek, his trim, Selleckian mustache, his way with a grin and a laugh. You like Nina better than him, a woman about twenty years his junior, tough and smart with arms covered in tattoos. You've never pointed out that she's like a different shade of Mel, a version that Joe hasn't had time to hurt, although you've had the thought many times.
Last week all four of you had gathered at Mel's for dinner. Melissa refused to cook--she'd never cook for Joe again, she told you privately, not after all the housekeeping and nannying and babying she did in their marriage--but you all got takeout and sat around the table and talked and laughed, openly, comfortably, the way friendly couples do, and you could believe that all that history was far behind them, that there was a future where Joe and Mel could admit to their scars and what they'd inflicted on each other, and be brothers-in-arms, veterans of the fight, not soldiers on opposing sides.
"Nina said," Melissa says, and wipes away a tear. "She said they were together. While me'n'Joe were still married."
You stare. "What?"
"They were together," she repeats. "They've been lyin', this whole time. 'Bout when they met. It was way before the divorce. He was fuckin' her on the side." Her lips pinch together and her mouth twists. She stares at the ceiling like the answer to it all is up there and fiercely bats away another tear. "I..." You watch her. Her throat works as she tries to get words together. "Nina said she couldn't keep lyin' to me. That she always felt awful about it. And now I got you and she likes ya and wants things to be fair, for us to... To choose our friends right, and..."
You've always had an impression of Nina as like Mel in this way, too--as rough, but fundamentally decent. Prone to a little lie here, a little sleight-of-hand there, but not enough to really hurt somebody, never playing games where it really mattered. What's awful is that this sounds like her all over, that single-minded sense of fairness, a toughness inside that made her willing to face the music, to blow up this burgeoning friendship if it meant being honest.
"Baby," you say softly, and inch closer on the floor. It's enough. The wall crumbles. Melissa slides straight off the chair onto the floor with you, practically into your lap, and her whole body sways into your arms. You take her, you hold her. She shakes in your grip, crying, still, though no longer those sobs that seemed to scour her from the inside out. You carefully stroke her hair back from her face as she clings to your encircling arms, and you ride it out together.
She comes back from it slowly, stilling, relaxing into you. Then she hiccups, in a loud, distinct hic, and instantly leans back to give you an accusing look, daring you to laugh. She hiccups again. It makes you smile. You touch her red, damp cheek, brushing your thumb against its flushed curve. "It's okay," you tell her. She hiccups. "I'm going to get you some water. You wanna sit on the bed?"
When you come back, she's not on the bed; she's back at the vanity. She's scrupulously wiping her makeup off with little micellar pads, lips still pinched like she's trying not to cry, leaning close to the mirror to make sure she's getting it all. You sit on the edge of the mattress with water in one hand and ibuprofen in the other, waiting, and when she's done, she turns to accept your offerings, her eyes lowered, a little shamefaced.
"C'mon," you say when she's knocked the pills back. "C'mere." She gets up and joins you, crawling right to the middle of the bed, and you crawl after her, settling on your back so that she can curl into the protective curve of your arm. You look down at her face--her long nose with its cute, turned-up snub at the end, the lashes shielding her reddened green eyes, the mark at the corner of her mouth that records every smile and frown--and you don't get it. You don't get why Joe is... Joe. And why he did what he did.
More's going to come, you know that. The air's heavy with it. Finally Melissa starts to talk. She stares across the room while she does it, your hand stroking her hair.
"I knew he was cheatin'," she says. "I think he was bonin' some of the other firefighters' wives. And he probably would go out and pick some girls up, too, some, y'know, whoever he could get his hands on, right. At that point, it was, what, the last few years, and I wasn't puttin' out, so. I mean, I'd blow him, to get him off my back, but not the real thing."
"That doesn't mean it was your fault."
She doesn't answer that. Instead, she says, "I didn't think any of 'em were serious. Like, that it was an affair affair, you know. Like that made it better. Anyhow..." She presses more closely into you. You're sure she can hear your heartbeat, and you feel it as she tries to steady her breathing to match you. "Nina said it was happenin' the last year," she says. "The very last year he and I were married. Funny thing is, I was tryin' to make it work."
You've seen photos from that time in her life. You know what trying to make it work entailed for her: back on the one-meal-a-day diet, trying to get her menopausal body back to a twenty-five-year-old's slimness; the brightening of her hair to fire-engine red, trying to be enough to catch his eye; the clothes she wore, trying to turn herself girly, like her princess-gown wedding dress had been so girly, and so unlike her. Oh, she's always feminine, Melissa--luxuriously, wonderfully feminine--but not girly, pink and wispy, delicate. Not like she tried to make herself for Joe.
"What was it all for?" she says wonderingly, voicing your own thought aloud. "What did I do all that shit for, baby? He was already fucking her. He already... Loved her." Her voice is hollow and lonely. You think of that story about her dad, what he told her, again and again, all her life, about her role in the world, about who she was. You're supposed to take care of this family. You're supposed to give up everything. You're supposed to give us what we want, we're supposed to have our cake and eat it, too, and fuck you if you try to keep even a crumb for yourself. He probably never said it as plainly as that, but it was what he meant.
"S'what I get," she says, very softly, almost to herself; it's a child's voice, meek and small, from that place deep inside where she's forever the self-loathing little girl, crying alone in the kitchen. "S'what I deserve."
"No." Her eyes flick up to yours. "You don't deserve that. You did it all because you cared about him," you say, petting the soft hair at Mel's temple. "Because you loved him. There's nothing wrong with that. That's not shameful." Her eyes dart away. You know you've caught a little bit of what's dragging on her--the shame. The shame of giving up everything for a man who didn't know her favorite color, her favorite ice cream flavor; of sacrificing her dream of a real home, a baby, the life she'd always imagined, for somebody who'd turn around and stick his dick in God knew how many other women.
"I hate him," you confide in her softly. She doesn't quite smile, but the corners of her eyes crinkle tenderly like she feels the smile inside. "I hate him so much." You echo her promises from all the times your roles were reversed, your tear-wrung body cradled in her arms: "You want me to beat the shit out of him?"
"Yeah," Melissa says at once, "please." She sniffles, then hiccups. "Jesus." Her head lolls against your chest. Her arm drapes over your waist and pulls you tight against her. "I really liked her," she says softly, into the quiet room. "That's... What fuckin' sucks about it, huh? I liked her, and I... I was likin' him again. He was my best friend, before you'n'Barb. And I... Wanted my friend back."
"It's okay." You scratch your nails gently against her scalp, tracing the sensitive skin at her nape. "It's okay you wanted him back, as your friend. You can still care about him. About both of them. And be angry, and hate them, even though you care, and not talk to them for a long time. What you feel is okay."
She takes a deep, shuddering breath. You wonder if she's ever heard those words before. If Joe or anyone else in her life has embraced this chaos of contradictions, this woman so full of passion that she can't help but feel, all of it, everything at once. That's why she's so tough, you know. Because despite it all--her shitty dad, her vicious sister, her awful ex, and everyone in between--she never lost that thing they all zeroed in on, that weakness. She never lost that sensitive, loving heart. She had to protect it; no one else would do it for her.
Now you can. Now you will. You lean down and kiss the top of her head. She hiccups.
"You want me to run you a bath?" you ask. Her head bobs against your shoulder in a little nod. You give her another kiss and start to extract yourself from her arms. She rolls into the warm space left by your body as you enter the en-suite.
You love Melissa’s bathroom, same way you love the vanity table. It’s an extension of herself, a little bit organized and a little bit chaos: hair care and skincare products on every available surface, eyeliners worn down to a nub, her perfume, her lip gloss. Tucked into the edge of the mirror, wrinkled from long exposure to the steam of her baths and showers, are two pictures. One is herself and Barbara at Barb’s sixtieth birthday party. “We looked like a whole meal,” Mel told you frankly when you asked about it. They’re both in dresses that cling to the generous curves of their bodies, heads tilted together, wearing mirror smiles and a shade of red lipstick that’s nearly the same. It washes you with tenderness to see it.
The other picture is her and you. The guy she dated before you tried to take her to Dave & Buster’s on a first date, so of course, you two had to go. It’s a strip of photos from an automated booth, the two of you in outrageous poses: her pretending to take a bite out of your cheek in one, your tongues lolling and eyes crossed in another. In the last photo, the camera’s just caught you looking at her, eyes full of love, while she’s squinting over her glasses at the lens, trying to tell if it’s taking the next picture.
You start the bath running. You make sure it’s hot as hell, just the way she likes it, and add a judicious amount of the first body wash you grab, letting the water churn it into bubbles. A shuffle and a rattle behind you; it’s Mel in the doorway. “Hey, baby,” you say. She looks like shit, which you don’t mention. “It’s filling up. Here, I’ll let you relax.”
“Stay with me,” she says.
You sit next to the tub while she lowers herself into the water. Her clothes are a messy pile on the floor; you pull them toward yourself and start folding them, piece by piece, making her roll her eyes affectionately. She tips her head back against the edge of the tub and looks at you, and you feel yourself prickling with the focus of that gaze.
"What are you thinkin'?" she asks at last, quietly.
"I'm thinkin'," you echo, rubbing the fabric of her silky pink blouse between your fingers, "that you're tired, and I'm tired, so in a little bit, I'll order some dinner." Maybe Indian? You've learned never to get Italian with Melissa; everything's scrutinized, down to the texture of the breadcrumbs. "Then I'll wrap you up in your bathrobe. We'll watch a movie..." You move on to her jeans. They're still warm from her body. You smile a little to yourself as you tidy them into a small square. "A Paul Newman movie." Her favorite. "And drink wine. And then you're going to go to bed. And you're not grading anything tonight, okay? And I'll hold you until you fall asleep."
"What are you thinkin'?" you ask, and look at her. What you see makes you straighten your spine, makes you feel spotlit and strange.
She's staring. She looks... How can you describe it? Unsmiling, but not unhappy; tender, but not amorous; vulnerable, but not afraid. She looks... Wonderstruck.
She reaches out with one small hand and her manicured nails brush your cheek gently. "I think I never been taken care of the way you take care of me," she says. Her thumb brushes your lower lip. "Thank you, baby. I..." You see the questions in her green eyes, the sensitivity and confusion: How did this happen? Will I get to keep this? What will happen to me when it's taken away?
"I'll always take care of you," you promise her, voice soft. You dip your head and kiss the pad of her thumb. Kiss her palm, making her sigh. You take her hand in yours and she squeezes hard. You make her a soft promise, one you know she's never heard before: "Melissa... It's what you deserve."
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theveesbf · 1 month
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Angel Dust X Male!Feminine!Reader
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︴Notes - Hi everyone!! I finally wrote what I said I was going to LOL- I hope you guys like it!! <3
︴Content - Angel Dust headcanons with a male!reader who is very feminine
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Angel Dust is like, the best boyfriend coming to this because he's kinda feminine himself.
He's always complimenting you and your looks, especially with more explicit ones just to see you get flustered.
Angel likes to go shopping with you and that makes you have a lot of matching clothes with him.
If anyone tried to shame you for using skirts even though you weren't a girl, he would go feral on them.
They can say that to him, he doesn't give a shit. But to you?? No way!
Angel Dust can't help but laugh whenever someone mistakes you by a woman. And when it happens to him you're the one laughing on his face.
Angel would love to wear some of your dresses if you let him.
To Angel, you two are Fat Nuggets fathers, and you're not changing that. You probably don't even want to change it, Fat Nuggets is too cute for you.
Angel Dust is going to annoy Vaggie by saying something like "Even my boyfriend has a better taste in clothes than you!"
He probably asked Charlie to let your room next to his so you both can sleep on each other's room almost everyday.
If you have a hard time doing your makeup, Angel Dust can help you! He is really good at it, so you don't need to worry about turning out bad.
He's going to hide his relationship with you to anyone related to Valentino or the man himself. Who knows what Valentino might do if he finds out his dating?
But that ends up on him giving you a lot of attention indoors, especially on the bedroom if you know what I mean...
Of course a lot of cuddles and kisses too! Angel Dust loves kissing you all the time!
Just know that Angel Dust loves his boyfriend a lot. <3
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shslbunnylover · 7 months
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★★★𝘼 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙂𝙤𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙨 (𝙆𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙩𝙤𝙗𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙖𝙮 8: 𝘽𝙤𝙙𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙥)★★★
Character: Morticia Addams
Taglist: @inlovewithgreta @lilfartbox1 @marvels--slut
Trigger warnings (DL, DI): Bad dates, Oral (Morticia receiving), Boss/maid relationship
Genre: Smut
A/n: Happy international lesbian day!!
Word count: 1.5k
...
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...
"Miss Adams? Do you need any help?" You asked softly as the sound of your body walking up to your boss filled the room.
"Oh no mi querida, I'm alright, please stay though. I love when you keep me company," Morticia replied, patting the bed next to her as she put on her black hoop earrings.
You nodded, a soft smile forming on your lips as you slowly sat down on the bed the ravenette had gestured you towards.
You always enjoyed keeping Morticia company, even if you were being paid as her maid to do so. You had always had your own ambitions for a career and you were planning on this being a starter job, but the woman who had hired you just kept you addicted to working as a maid for the Adams family. The pay was amazing, you were treated with respect, and most importantly, Morticia always wanted you to be around her. You always had a crush on the woman ever since you had caught her changing into a pair of lingerie before a date night.
"So Miss Adams, are you excited for your date?" You questioned, trying to hide your jealousy for the man whom would be trying to seduce the older woman.
Morticia sighed in annoyance as she began to apply her liquid black eyeliner to her lower lids.
"I wish I could say I was Y/n...but this guy doesn't seem...as sweet as I want my husband to be," She said, turning to look at you as she continued to put on her makeup.
"Well, what kind of guy do you want?" You continued to pry, genuinely wanting to know more about the ravenettes dating preferences.
"I just wish I could meet a guy that's as sweet as you, your boyfriend must be so lucky to have you," The older woman smiled sadly, her dark eyes glossing over you before they look back at the mirror.
"Oh, I don't have a boyfriend, I'm single," You chuckled, "I also like girls,"
Morticia froze up at that, looking back over to you with a slight hope present in her eyes.
"Oh, good for you amor, I'm hopeful you'll get a good wife," She smiled, secretly wishing she'd be the good wife she was talking about, but knowing you'd never like her back, seemingly unaware of your mutual feelings.
You blushed at the nickname, eyes darting away from the raven haired woman as you tried to contain your crush on the older woman.
"Aha...I hope so," You mumbled, standing up and smoothing your maid outfit out a little bit as you stood up.
"Y/n? Could you help me with my hair?" The ravenette asked you, to which you quickly walked back over to her.
"Of course Miss Adams," You replied, grabbing a brush before beginning to brush her beautiful and dark locs.
"Thank you amor..." She smiled, placing a kiss on your cheek that caused your whole face to turn bright red with embarrassment.
You paused for a moment, eyes sparkling as you didn't even realize Morticias chuckling.
"You liked that mi querida? I must admit your blush is so adorable," She smirked, watching you blush as you placed your hand on the cheek that was now marked by her black lip print.
"It was quite sweet Miss Adams, but I wouldn't want to distract you from your date," You chuckled nervously,
Morticia nodded, a soft blush creeping up onto her cheeks as she continued to touch up her makeup while you returned to styling her hair.
The way this woman talked with her Spanish accent, the way her eyes would gloss over you when she was flirting with you, it was all so damn addicting.
"You look ravishing Miss Adams, your date is incredibly lucky, I hope he treats you well," You smiled, brushing her long raven locks out before placing her favorite black peral necklace on her beautiful neck.
The ravenette chuckled, standing up as she revealed her long and elegant black dress and especially her boots that had you metaphorically on your knees for the older woman.
"Thank you Y/n," She replied, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear before walking off, "I'll tell you all about it when I get back, alright?"
You nodded, biting your lip as to contain your urge to beg her to date you instead.
"Of course Miss, see you then," You responded, turning around to go clean up and organize Morticia's vanity, missing the stare at your ass the ravenette shot you.
You stood in the kitchen, soft 50's jazz playing throughout the house as you wiped the tables clean of the food residue from your previous cooking.
"Miss Adams should be home in about thirty minutes minimum, which will leave me with enough time to finish cleaning up from dinner," You muttered to yourself, taking off the under shirt of your maid uniform, leaving you in just the long apron and your tights as you didnt think Mortica would be home soon.
You sighed, bending over the countertops to finish wiping the surface clean when you suddenly heard a slam of the door.
Your body shot up and you quickly ran to the front door, not remembering your lack of an undershirt.
"H-Huh?!" You exclaimed at the sight of a very frustrated Morticia Adams, your face blushing violently as you couldn't help but be attracted to her when she was in such a state. "Miss Adams, is everything okay? What happened? What can I do to help?"
The ravenette growled in response, gripping her hands around your thighs and lifting you onto the counter.
"You're such a sweetheart~" She cooed, one of her hands lifting your chin up as she began to slightly clench it in her grasp. "Always wanting to help me like the good little maid you know you are,"
You blushed at her words, eyes shaking from the sudden intensity of emotions from the older woman.
"Miss Adams, what's gotten into you?" You asked, your own hand sliding up to hold the ravenette's waist.
Morticia sighed, biting her lip as she continued to hold your chin.
"He thought I was hideous and creepy, but not in a good way, and God I just couldn't handle it. I knew you would treat me better but I just can't fathom asking you for your heart, since I know it doesn't feel the same way," She replied, looking you dead in the eyes, causing a shiver to run down your spine as her other hand traced mindless circles across your skin. "But the whole shitty date just made me want to tell you my f-"
You cut off the older woman by pressing your lips together, her mouth tasting like citrus vodka and mint as she slid her tounge inside of your mouth.
You whimpered as the feeling of your body being picked up and placed on top of the taller woman on the couch.
"You're beautiful," You muttered, kissing the other girl with passion as you began to stroke her thighs. "Please, allow me to make you feel better than that guy could ever dream of doing,"
Morticia blushed, and she nodded.
Your soft hands parted her legs and she couldn’t help but let out a soft moan at the cold air she kept her house at hitting her heated center, her eyes still watching you with lust, wanting to memorize your every feature as you made her feel the pleasure she craved for so long.
Your tongue created long and quick strides across the ravenette's sex, waisting no time as you quickly made her body tremble with the ecstacy that came from your touch.
You muttered verbal praises of the other woman as you laid your lips across her body, worshiping it like you always wanted to.
"You like my body that much hm?" Morticia smirked, blushing as she watched you kiss every square inch with you lips that were so desperate to touch her pale skin, your fingers falling down to her clit to rub quick circles around her bud.
You nodded, eyes filling with love as you kissed her passionately as you felt the ravenette's body coming undone from solely your touch and worship alone.
"You're such a goddess, your body is so wonderful." You replied, rubbing your thumb in faster circles.
"Fuck I'm close," She moaned, the lewd voice filling your ears as her hands that held your waist in place left goosebumps across your skin.
You kept up the kisses and worship for another minute as the other woman's moans grew in volume, which only made your own underwear soaked.
"God damn it!!" Morticia eventually choked out in the middle of a string of curses and pet names, her pussy releasing all of its juices onto your hands, which you quickly lapped up.
"You look so pretty, you're such a goddess," You murmured, resting your head on her breasts.
Morticia smirked in response, her hand trailing down to squeeze your ass.
"Then let me show you what heaven feels like. Sit on my face,"
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jojissalsa · 2 months
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here are some wips i'm desperately trying to finish! (if you're curious ;P)
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✞ Vendetta Leon:
‪‪❤︎‬ Pretty When I Cry:
☆ summary: you find out leon cheated on you with ada, and with that comes denying him of any kinds of affection. until he takes matters into his own hands, leon knows how to fix his pretty girl ;)
You couldn't believe it when you found out, you knew Leon could get distant. But finding that stupid fucking teddy bear keychain that woman gave him was enough to start a fight between you two, let alone the date offer tucked inside. How sweet. You thought that was it, when it initially happened. A quick spat when you found it a couple days after he came home from that horrid mission, and then some makeup sex. God, you wished that was all it was. All it amounted to. That was until you saw the keychain again, for some odd reason. Even more odd when curiosity got the better of you, and you unzipped it again. Empty.
‪‪❤︎‬ And if you were my little girl:
☆ summary: you've never been close to your dad on a surface level way, or even in a deep way. but after he finds out some of your illicit activities, you guys share your deep, twisted ways <3
Leon’s been single for a while, and ugly girls like you have been ugly for a while. And he looks at you like an ugly girl. Tells you not to get tattoos, shit like that. Like it's still the 50s. Probably because that's the only time he could get pussy. That's why he treats you like shit, and why you and him are addicted to sex. It's all you do ever since you turned 18. And you clean up nice enough. But deep down you're still an ugly girl. What's that saying? Lipstick on a pig. That's really who you are.
❤︎ Anything you Like:
☆ summary: you're excited to meet your new stepdad, and he seems like a great guy. unlike you, who definitely has some issues. good thing leon has a fix for that ;)
Your mom finally got a new man. You're pretty happy about it, really because she is. You're not excited in the slightest to actually meet the guy, just because your mom is happy doesn't mean the guy isn't as bad as your dad. She didn't really learn her lesson after him, sure, she was smart enough to get a divorce, condemn him for all the shit he put you two through. but the damage was already done, honestly. At least the daddy issues make you cute? They don't. They make you so fucking depraved, and in a way it kinda concerns you. The porn you look at, the guys you fuck, you know it's probably some deep seated issues, but it doesn't make any of it less hot.
✿ Death Island Leon:
❤︎ Give you the world:
☆ summary: leon works way too hard, and of course the years of trauma still cause those pesky nightmares. thank god you're there for him, and you don't mind it at all.
“You don’t need to tell me, you know I just wanna help.” You sigh, your hand making lazy circles on his toned stomach. “You go through so much, too much if I’m being honest.” Leon chuckles, a pink hue starting to dust his cheeks. “Hey! I’m being serious. If it were up to me, I’d give you the whole world. You really deserve it, Leon..” You prop yourself up on your elbows, a puppy love look in your eyes that you know looks only a tad obsessive. Leon doesn’t answer for a moment, just letting his wide smile speak his mind as his hand comes up to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. You sigh and nuzzle your cheek against his palm, your hand slowly making its way to the waistband of his sweats. “Can I? Wanna take your mind off it.” You murmur against his palm, that sweet look in your eyes making him blush even harder.
❤︎ Lipstick Stains:
☆ summary: it was small at first, but it's always the small things with leon. they always drive him crazy, eating away at the sane part of his brain and just making him wanna be around you all the time. maybe it's a side effect of marriage?
He was fine seeing it at first, seeing the smudges of your lipstick on the glasses that he’d clean in the sink or throwing away napkins colored the same rouge in certain spots. He’d just ignore the chill that’d run down his spine when the thought of that same rouge being trailed across his neck would pass. It's just lipstick, is he a teenager?
❆ Re4 Remake Leon:
❤︎ A Girl can Dream (Part 1)
☆ summary: you work closely with ada wong, and leon knows a thing or two about mercenaries. they love to cause trouble.
Leon knew you looked familiar, from the moment he saw you in line at boarding to the second you sat next to him. He also knew you could both feel something. Physical attraction? Nah, he would never get close to another woman like Ada, too many secrets. You on the other hand? You were dying at the chance to run into his arms like a giggling teenage girl, looking at the window as you absentmindedly twirl your hair on your finger. You really don’t wanna pay him much more attention, partly because he’s insanely distracting, mainly because you know he would reject you in a heartbeat. No way a guy like him is single, right? A girl can dream.
𖦹 Re2 Remake Leon:
❤︎ All Mine:
☆ summary: leon's affection has always been nice. but he also has the power to deprive you of it entirely. and when that happens, you can't help but go insane.
You don’t even know what really drives this affinity you have for him, sure, he is definitely a looker. No debate about that. You’d run in front of incoming traffic just to be near him. But why? He’s nice, funny, drives a nice car, you both have a lot in common. But there really is something about Leon Kennedy, that puppy faced freak, that really fucks with your brain chemistry. The way he touches you, it’s confident yet tender. Well, it was at first. It had that tinge of gentleness, like you were a gorgeous porcelain doll that deserved so much care, but he could be rough with you in the most enticing way possible. He would choke you ever so slightly just so he could kiss you deeper, feel your tongue against his, like he needed to remind you of who makes you shudder like that. It was addicting, having that kind of affection that made your brain all syrupy and nonfunctioning.
☁︎ Infinite Darkness Leon:
❤︎ Dangerous Game (Part 2):
☆ summary: now that you're settled in, it's your turn to babysit leon. and you're making it much more difficult to focus when you talk like that.
Suddenly you're getting an incoming call from Leon, and you're kicking yourself when you feel your face heat up. “Hey there, Agent Kennedy. Need anything from me?” There you go again, still not using his name. Such a tease. He tries not to roll his eyes when he notices your smug smirk already.
❤︎ A Girl can Dream (Part 2):
☆ summary: ada has taught you so well, you know when to give up and help leon out when he needs it. that doesn't mean you shouldn't get a reward for it though, right?
You repress a yelp as he pushes you against the desk, his face barely illuminated from the glow of the chandelier in the hallway. "Enough with the teasing," You nearly shiver at how stern he sounds, but you've always been good at poker faces. "I've got a job to do, and it'd be wonderful if you'd shut your mouth and help me out here." Leon's voice is hot against your neck, his large hands gripping your hips, keeping you against him. "And what do I get out of that? You gotta make it worth my time, Kennedy,"
(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ please be patient with me as i finish these! life has been a rollercoaster lately, but making fanfics and writing about leon will always be a passion of mine, so it's not going anywhere anytime soon!
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yanderemommabean · 2 years
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I am all for yandere single dad!
Not sure if this counts BUT, a yandere dad that ends up falling for the nanny his wife hired to watch their daughter.
A well off business man, finely tailored suit, who's been stuck in a dead marriage with a woman he can't stand.
Although he adores his daughter he rarely has time for her because of his highly demanding job. To make matters worse, her supposed "mother", if you even call her that, doesn't give her the time of day and constantly ignores her
He didn't think his life would turn out like this.
In their college days, he and wife then girlfriend, had been dating for a year before he finally decided to end things after having grown sick of her demanding and entitled attitude.
However, when he tried to break up with her, she announced she was pregnant with his child. Of course he had his doubts and demanded a paternity test. Instead she went behind his back and told his parents.
Both their families were very conservative and had high standings in their communities. So as to save face, they pressured him into marrying her so as to not cause a scandal. So under threat of disownment by his family and the chance of his reputation being ruined for being considered a man who abandoned his child after getting a woman pregnant. He craved and agreed.
The first few years were decent. Despite, the way they got to together, he tried to make the relationship work but it soon became clear she had no interest in that.
As soon as his daughter was old enough to do certain things on her own, his wife stopped wanting anything to do with her. Instead preferring to go out with her friends, shopping and partying as if she was still a single 19 year old college girl.
The few times she isn't out spending large amounts out his money, she sitting at home doing nothing but watching TV or online. All while completely ignoring her daughter.
If that was bad enough, he's pretty sure she been cheating on him. She's constantly going out dressed to the nines in makeup and expensive clothes. She always on her phone and keeps it locked when she's not. And has been very distant as of the past few years.
He has thought about just divorcing her and finding someone else but nothing ever really came of that idea.
He grew up with the idea that divorce was a sin and once a person makes those vows, you can't ever break. Though that wasn't his true concern. His main worry was losing his daughter.
His wife was a vindictive woman who surely do anything in her power to make his life a living hell if he dared divorce her. And that included using their daughter as a mean to hurt him.
The court were they lived had tenancy to reward majority custody to the mother, even if the father is more suitable to raise the child. And knowing his wife, she'd probably claim he was abusive to her and their daughter, which would grant her a higher chance of gaining full custody. And didn't want to risk losing his daughter to her neglectful mother.
So, her surmised it would be better to wait until his daughter was 18 to divorce his wife.
However, things changed when you entered the picture.
A nanny hired by his wife to watch their daughter for a few hours while she was out.
He remembers coming home that day and finding you there in the living room playing with his daughter.
Of course he was shocked and asked what you were doing in his house, but after explaining the situation, he was left furious! His had life their daughter with a complete stranger without bothering to consult him first!?
His anger only grew when you tell him you were only supposed to watch his daughter for a couple of hours, but his wife had been gone all day and no matter how many times you tried to call her, she wouldn't answer her phone.
She didn't even tell you how to reach him or give you a list of things rules for the young girl. She just shoved her daughter on you and told you to watch her. Didn't even pay you before hand. You didn't feel comfortable leaving such a young child by alone, so you stayed and waited for the father to come home.
Feeling bad for you, he decided to just pay you for your trouble and let you go home.
However, when you tried to leave, his daughter grabbed onto your leg and started crying, saying she didn't want you to leave.
This shocked both of you and he tried to convince his daughter to let go of you to no avail. Eventually he asked if you wanted a job watching his daughter during the week days while he and his wife are out, promising to pay you a high amount. Not seeing an issue with that you agreed.
Over the course of a few months, he slowly begins realize he's developed feelings for you.
You're so kind and attentive with his daughter. Always willing to play with her or help her with homework. You even worry about her safety and comfort her when she hurts herself. He sees how his daughter's eyes light up when you arrive. How she come running towards you wanting a hug and you'll happily pick her up and spin her around.
He looks forward to coming home to see you cooking dinner for his daughter and even going as far as making a plate for him.
He hates coming home and seeing his wife there instead of you. He goes resentful of his wife to the point he can't even look at her without feeling disgust and anger.
You should be his wife, not this selfish, leech of a woman. You're the one he was meant to marry, not that wh#re that forced into this sham of a marriage only to open her legs the second someone new comes around.
Surely, you think this way too. All he needs to do is get rid of the parasite taking your place. It'd be so easy too. it's not as if anyone would miss her, she's widely hated by their neighbors and even her own friend group.
The only people he has to worry about is her awful family, but that's not an issue. He can just make it look like an accident and hold a funeral for their families. It'll be the last time they see his daughter. He has no plans of letting them continue to be in their lives after he marries you. And if they become a problem he'll gladly let them join their daughter in hell. The same goes for his parents.
His parents will undoubtedly cause a ruckus about him remarrying soon after his wife's passing, especially with someone they don't approve of. But his parents have controlled his life long enough and it's time for them to understand who has the true say in the family.
Aw he can't wait to see you in a gorgeous white dress on your wedding day. Surely you won't refuse right? After all his daughter will be so sad to see you leave again. You're already a perfect parent to her and he can easily support you with his salary, so you won't even need to work!
There's no reason to say no~
(GOODNESS I loved this and decided to make a little scenario on how I think he got the whole idea for marrying you in the first place. It’s a bit of a rough draft but I still like it! I hope you do too!)
Coming home this early was a blessing he hardly got to enjoy. Usually when he came home at all there was hardly a hello from the woman he called his wife, and dinner was something a day or two old in the fridge.
Today, however, he was pleasantly stunned. You stood there over the stove while his baby girl giggled beside you, adding what looked like food coloring to a batch of batter. Now, what on earth could you two possibly be up too?
A nanny cooking with a child isn’t odd, not in the least. But something about this was different, more domestic and wholesome than just a paid worker bonding with the child they look after. Especially when you gave him that sweet, welcoming look over your shoulder when he announced his arrival.
“Oh! Hello! Sorry I didn’t hear you- we were-“ you were happily cut off by his daughter, who clapped her hands excitedly. “Daddy! Come look! We made silly pancakes!”
He chuckled, walking over as he places his keys down. He watched as you flipped the green pancake over and slid it onto a plate, where his daughter happily added a fistful of sprinkles and handed it to him.
You give a playful smirk and point to her “I think she might be the best chef in the house. Why have me cook when she’s a five star chef?”
He laughed with you and set the plate aside, picking up his daughter to give her a kiss on the head. “I wouldn’t normally approve of pancakes for dinner but…hmm…since you’re such an artist, Daddy can let it slide”.
You all smile and get ready for dinner as he tells you about his day. You genuinely listen, setting his plate down as you sit beside him and ask follow up questions even. While you two chat and talk, he feels so relaxed and even, dare he say loved. This dinner feels like such a dream, until his daughter makes a mess with syrup on the table and starts to tear up.
You give her a worried look and hush her softly, asking what the matter was. “It was an accident sweetie. You aren’t in trouble at all! We’ll get you cleaned up and get back to eating ok?”.
She sniffles and nods her head, wiping her eyes as she looks at her daddy. “I-I just…mommy yells at me for t-things like that and-and I didn’t wanna-“ she continues to get upset, and watching as you coax her down and soothe her made him both relived and upset.
Of course his wife would be like that. Always yelling and belittling people over the smallest of things, making everything a show of drama. She couldn’t even bother to be home and be an actual part of the family, to cook or simply be there for their daughter when she’s learning and growing and needing a person to bond with.
He’s had enough. He’s had enough for years now but now things are finally becoming more clear.
You’re meant to be there, meant to be by his side and help this family finally heal and become normal. In just the two hours of being around you today, he’s felt more of a family bond than the nearly ten years hes been married to that parasite.
He says nothing as he stands in the doorway of the restroom, eyes protectively watching over his daughter and you. Someone so kind and gentle, nurturing and loving. To think he let his daughter be starved of this, to be scarred for so long.
He won’t let this mistake go on any longer.
But papers and money won’t get rid of the disease that is his wife. She’ll go down fighting and might even take the person he adores the most away, leaving him torn apart.
The plan can be made later on when he’s in bed. For now, he thinks, he’ll help wash up his daughter so you all can get back to dinner and story time. “See princess? Nothing bad at all. All cleaned up and ready for more special pancakes!”.
“Silly pancakes” you both correct, you with a knowing smile that he pronounced it wrong on purpose. He gives a shrug, barley hiding his grin “nah, pretty sure I heard you the first time. Special pancakes with princess sprinkles”.
His daughter giggles and hugs his leg, looking up at him “you’re so silly daddy”. He bends down to pick her up, carrying her with one arm as he looks at your smile.
This feels so right. So warm and welcoming. It hurts him to know that you aren’t tied to him- to THIS. You’ll have to leave the house soon, go to your own home where you’re own life is. God, he wants to just keep you here and never let you go! You’re such a bright beacon of light in what this nightmare has become!
While you chat with his daughter at the table, he can’t help but let his eyes admire your fingers. They have no ring, and his wedding band would look perfect on you. Making a statement that you belonged to him. That he loved you and wouldn’t break that sanctity for anything in the world.
He can’t wait to tear the ring off of his soon to be missing wife. He’ll have to sneak your ring size off of you somehow, but the wait will be worth it. This time, he knows he’s doing the right thing.
And he won’t let someone as good as you leave him.
-Mommabean (please tell me what you think! ❤️)
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mlove44lh · 1 year
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Don´t hurt yourself
Chapther 5 - Emptiness
Masterlist
Previously chapter
Warnings: mention of cheating, angst, swearing,
Words: 3.561
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“God was in the room when the man said to the woman, "I love you so much. Wrap your legs around me. Pull me in, pull me in, pull me in." Sometimes when he'd have her nipple in his mouth, she'd whisper, "Oh, my God." That, too, is a form of worship.”
"He's here.” I didn't see his car or the lights in our apartment on, but I'm sure of it. It's like I can still feel his presence even though he's meters away. At least that hasn't faded away yet.
The tears from the earlier breakdown are still on my face, but I'm calmer now.
"He’s better be. Now come on, I'll help you upstairs."
Alessia unbuckles her seatbelt and opens the driver's door, but I grab her arm to stop her from getting out of the car.
"No, I'm fine. Let me go alone."
"Are you crazy? Look at you, Y/n. I'm not going to..."
"I'm serious," I interrupt her. "I don't want to go home being carried. I'm not that bad."
I am feeling terrible, but she doesn't need to know how much.
Alessia stares at me for a few seconds before relenting and closing the door on her side.
"Alright, but I'll stay right here, in case you need anything throughout the night. Just to make sure you're okay."
"Go home. I've already caused you enough trouble today. I'll be fine, I promise."
We stay silent for a few seconds before she speaks again.
"You know, if you need help hiding his body, I can assist you."
I chuckle amidst the mess of tears at her comment.
"I'll let you know."
I open the car door and unbuckle my seatbelt. Alessia grabs my hand before letting me get out of the car.
"Y/n. I..." Her eyes tell me what I already know. We've always had a crazy connection where sometimes words aren't even necessary.
"I know. I'll call you when I can."
We exchange a lingering look before I finally let go of her hand and step out of the car. Alessia nods, her eyes filled with concern, and I close the door behind me.
I glance back one last time before stepping into the building. My agitation is palpable, and I can feel my whole body trembling as I wait for the elevator to arrive at the top floor apartment. I try to envision my next steps, but my mind is so muddled that I can't hold a coherent thought for more than a few seconds.
I look at my reflection in the elevator mirror and can't recognize myself through the blurry makeup and the dark bags under my eyes. Just this realization makes me want to cry again. I never thought I would reach this point, never thought it would hurt this much.
I take the key out of my bag as soon as the elevator doors open, revealing the entrance of my home. My hands tremble slightly, and I struggle a bit to place the key in the lock, but I manage to open and close the door without making too much noise. The apartment is dark, and I refrain from turning on the lights to avoid drawing attention. I take off my heels and take a few cautious steps, only to bump into the side table near the entrance with a loud thud. The sound echoes throughout the apartment, cutting through the silence of the night. I release a frustrated sigh and feel a sharp pain in my hip from the impact. I remain motionless for a moment, waiting to see if I've been noticed.
What the hell am I doing? Why am I trying to avoid being noticed by him? Why do I feel like I have to hide my current state? It's not like he doesn't know the way he left me.
The questions echo in my mind, mixed with the throbbing pain in my hip. Angrily, I throw my heels away, watching them hit the floor with a muffled clatter. So I sit on the cool living room floor, leaning against the wall. I feel the hot tears run down my face again, I feel so much that I couldn't even name it now. My crying now isn't compulsive like earlier, but I don't make myself try to hide the tears anymore, I don't care what I look like, or how Lewis is going to find me here, I'm tired, so fucking tired.
I can hear footsteps approaching, but I don't move from my spot.
Lewis appears in the room, his gaze surprised as he sees me sitting on the floor in this state. He's wearing only a sweatpants that I gave him shortly after we first met. A wave of sadness envelops me as I see the worn fabric and faded colors of this garment that I had asked him several times to throw away. But he always refused, telling me it had sentimental value.
The sight of that sweatpants is a painful reminder of how we started and where we are now.
The feeling of loss is poignant. I feel like I've lost not just Lewis, but also a part of myself. My hands tremble, and my heart clenches with the overwhelming sadness that consumes me.
Lewis looks disconcerted, unsure of what to say or do in the face of my state. His eyes fill with remorse, but the words seem to elude him. He tries to approach, but I move away.
"No!"
It's the only thing I can say. It's a plea, and he knows it, as he immediately backs away upon hearing my single word.
"Y/n, let me help you.”
There's pain in his voice, but it also sounds harsh.
"You want to help me?! When all of this is your fault?"
Lewis crouches down, getting closer to my height. I shouldn't say anything now, I'm still drunk, sad, and angry, anything that comes out of my mouth now will likely be regrettable. But I don't think I have much more to lose, so I keep letting the words flow.
"A guy bought me a drink today. A fucking dry martini.” I look at him, trying to discern any change in his expression. But Lewis remains unmoved. “And I accepted. I accepted because I realized what he wanted with it, and I wanted to try to understand. I wanted to see if I could...”
The incessant tears become more potent, and I have to focus on my breathing to maintain some semblance of calm.
"He was handsome. He thought I was beautiful too. He wanted to take me to his hotel room and fuck me." I keep my eyes fixed on Lewis. "You know, I've never been so hurt in my life, I never thought I could feel so angry at you. And even though..." Some sobs escape from me. "And even though, I couldn't even consider the idea of cheating on you.”
My head is still resting against the wall, and I don't have the strength to even maintain a posture.
"The only thing I can think of is why. What led you to do this to me? What made you come to the conclusion that I wasn't good enough and cheat on me with her? And why did you do this to me at the worst moment of my life?"
Tears well up in my eyes again as another wave of sorrow hits me.
"This isn't love, Lewis. This can't be love."
Lewis finally moves, walking towards me and helping me to get up. I don't pull away from him this time, knowing that if he doesn't take me away from here, I'll be sitting on this floor all night.
I stand up with his help, and Lewis carries me to our room, leading me to the ensuite bathroom. Tears are streaming down his face as well, but he doesn't make a sound, nor does he look directly at my face.
He let go of me to turn on the shower, and I lean against the sink counter.
He turns to look at me after the water starts flowing. With great care, he removes each piece of my clothing. I look into his eyes that avoid meeting mine, and he does everything without showing anything other than sadness.
The warm water against my skin helps me relax, even if only slightly. He leaves the bathroom and doesn't come back. I wait for his return, but there is none. The sound of the water falling prevents me from hearing much of what is happening outside the bathroom.
As the effects of the alcohol wear off, I begin to feel shame and fear creeping in.
When I finally feel calmer, I turn off the shower and step out of the stall, still feeling a bit shaky. I walk to the closet where the hanging clothes seem blurred to my swollen, tear-filled eyes. I dress myself before even thinking about what I'm going to do.
I leave the room and come face to face with his figure, sitting in one of the chairs at the dining table, seemingly waiting for me.
As I stare at him, standing still in front of the bedroom door, his expression is one of exhaustion. He looks older than he did just a day ago. His eyes are red and tears stain his face.
Despite the hurt and anger I feel, my heart clenches at the sight of Lewis in such a state. I never wanted this, but still, I feel guilty for our situation.
What Emma said is true, I was very happy with him for many years.
I never thought I would find myself in this situation. I never thought he could hurt me this much.
"Are you feeling better? Sober?" His voice comes out hoarser than usual.
"Yes," I whisper.
"Then sit. Please." He points to the chair in front of him.
I think about ignoring him, but I don't want to act as I should anymore, I want to act as I want. And now what I want is to hear what he has to say. So I comply with his request and sit in front of him. I don't think I have anything else to say to him, but I realize he has a lot to say as he looks at me again.
Lewis looks at me for some time before gathering the courage to start speaking. The first rays of sunlight begin to invade the apartment.
"It was at the Monza Grand Prix. The first race weekend since... that happened." He lowers his gaze as he mentions the last part, and I feel a shiver run through my entire body. "You stayed home. I think that was the first time in my life that I raced without caring about the result. I knew I didn't need to go that weekend; Toto had made that clear. But I don't know, I thought that if I could focus on something, I could take some of that feeling out of me. But no, I didn't focus on anything for a single second. It was a terrible weekend, and I shouldn't have gone.”
Lewis still doesn't look at me. His tension is almost palpable, and his melancholy seems more evident with each passing second.
"I felt so much anger, so much hatred towards myself. For some reason, I felt guilty for not being able to give you what you wanted, what we wanted. I could barely look at you, not because I blamed you or anything, but because I blamed myself. And I regret so much not even trying to talk to you, not forcing you to talk to me. I knew you wanted to talk. But back then, everything was so painful and confusing." He takes a few seconds to breathe before continuing. "On Sunday, my flight got delayed by a few hours, remember?” I don't answer him, just move my head down millimeters to show him I understand, and that he can proceed. “I didn't think it was worth booking another hotel room, so I decided to spend that time at the hotel bar. It was empty, almost dawn already. I just wanted that feeling inside me to go away, so I started drinking. And she showed up, all alone. I didn't know who she was, but she knew who I was, and it seemed like she knew exactly what to say.”
Lewis lifts his gaze to me, perhaps to see if I'm still following along. My body burns, the pain I feel as I listen to every word that comes out of his mouth seems to be physical. But I remain still, waiting for him to continue.
"We had some drinks. And after a few hours, she asked me to accompany her to her room. And I went. And when we got there, she asked me if I wanted to come in. And for some reason, I said yes.”
He continues to look at me, and I continue to look at him. We are sitting just inches apart, but the feeling is as if he is miles away. Until this moment, I hadn't stopped to imagine how he was able to do what he did. I wasn't aware that I needed this explanation. Although it doesn't bring me comfort, at least now I am aware, and I no longer need to speculate and hurt myself with my own imagination.
"I don't know why I did what I did. And it didn't feel right at any moment. I knew it was wrong, I mean, it wasn't out of my control or anything like that. I did what I did fully aware, even though I was miserable. But at that moment, I didn't care about anything."
His hands are tightly intertwined, with the tendons clearly visible, showing a strong grip.
"I left that room, and it didn't take long for regret to hit me. I cried all the way back as if it could undo what I did. I decided not to tell you because it was a mistake that meant nothing, and no one would find out." His pauses become more frequent. "I came home determined to change our situation, to help us overcome that moment. But you were so deeply absorbed in your sadness that you didn't move to change, and I understand, but at that moment, I felt frustrated. And again, I didn't push myself or push you to take any action, I just accepted it, or rather, I gave up.”
I feel my breathing getting heavier. But I don't think I have any tears left to cry.
"I found out who she was weeks later, when I met Matteo in Brackley and he showed me a picture of her. I thought I couldn't feel any worse, but the guilt multiplied at that moment, not because of him or her. But because I knew that you would eventually meet someday, and that even without knowing, you would see in person the biggest mistake I've ever made in my life. She became real at that moment.”
"I met with her afterwards. I asked to speak with her after I found out who she was, thinking it would put an end to it, not wanting to take any risks. But..." He pauses, knowing he doesn't need to continue. They kept meeting, it's obvious. "It lasted for a few weeks, I found ridiculous reasons to make myself believe that none of it was wrong. Every time you cut off contact or kept your distance, I believed even more that there was a reason for what I was doing. But it all ended things before November. I think I snapped out of that numbness and apathy and realized what I was doing at the same time as I watched you trying to get better. I decided to end it and hoped it would never affect you. I never wanted to tell you, thought I could hide it and go back to normal. But of course you noticed, and the more distant you became, the more distant I became too. Not because I didn't care, but because I was afraid you would find out and give up on me. But I didn't realize that by doing that, I only made our situation worse.”
He separates his intertwined hands and extends one of them towards me, slowly, as if wanting to make sure I will allow the contact. I'm indecisive, unsure if I want or can handle the touch at this moment. But before I can make a conscious decision, I feel Lewis' hand on mine, which is resting on the table. His hand is warm and firm, and I feel his fingers gently closing around mine. It's a comforting gesture, yet it hurts like never before.
"You said I looked at her the same way I looked at you, but that's not true, Y/n. I never even looked at her in any other way than to fulfill a stupid need that I thought I had. She will never be half of who you are. It was never your fault, and it never will be. I love you more than anything, and I tried my best in everything I did for you, until the moment I broke our relationship in a way that I don't know if it can be fixed." His hand tightens around mine. "I won't insist on you giving me a second chance. Not after tonight. What you said and how you're feeling right now, it's more devastating for me than I thought possible. I want us back, but if you don't want that, I'll understand. I love you too much to push for it after what I've done to you.”
His voice comes out choked with tears, which hurts me deeply. I desperately wish I could say something to ease the weight we both carry, but the words elude me, and there's nothing I can offer to improve our situation right now.
I only decide to speak up once I'm sure he's finished telling me what he needed to say.
"I don't think you can truly understand what I've been through and what I'm going through right now," I say in a calmer tone than I expected. I watch Lewis cry in front of me as I try to formulate what I'm going to say. He breaks eye contact, but I keep looking at him. "And I will never know your feelings and what led you to do what you did.”
Gently, I pull my hand away from his touch.
"Look at me," I say. He turns his gaze towards me instantly. "But I still love you. More than I should. But I don't know if that's enough.”
"It's okay.” His expression falls again, I never thought I would see him like this, but I also never thought I would be in this state.
“I'm not sure if I want to end this. And I don't want to think about it anymore today. I'm exhausted, Lewis, exhausted from thinking and trying to understand. I just need some time away from everything.”
“I can spend another night away.”
“No. It's okay. You can stay here.”
I get up and walk towards him, closer than I have been in the past few weeks. Lewis is sitting down, so his height is a bit shorter than mine. His hands rest on the sides of my legs, and he leaves them there. And I don't mind the contact, nor do I move to pull away.
"I'm not worried about forgiving you," his eyes shimmer. "I'm worried about what will happen if I do forgive you. How I can trust you again? how I can no longer be afraid or ashamed? And all of this seems so much more complex than I could handle, even with all the love in the world. I don't know how long it would take for me to heal from this.”
"I'm not going anywhere. I'll wait for you to be sure, no matter how long it takes."
"I may not come back."
"That’s okay. Just let me know." His eyes are sad, but he seems more relieved now.
I nod as I place one of my hands on his shoulder.
"Let's go. I need to get some sleep."
He accompanies me to the entrance door of the master bedroom.
"Goodnight." The smile on his lips looks pained. He looks at me for a few seconds before heading to the guest room and closing the door behind him.
"Goodnight, Lewis." I say to no one, knowing that my words won't be heard by him.
Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, I decided to change some things in the story in the last minute 😅. But here it is. Hope you guys liked it, and see you in the next chapter!
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218 notes · View notes
nescaveckwriter · 4 months
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Paintbrushes And Romance 🥰🐞 - Part 7
Dean x Reader
Part 7 🥰🐞
A/N: Can someone hand me a box of tissues please 🥹🥰🐞 Also side note, please comment down below and let me know what you think, if you wanna of course🥰🐞
Warnings: Violence, Swearing, Sexual Content, Heartbreak, Kidnapping, Trigger Warnings🙈
.....
Seeing him, listening to the sound of his voice, broke you, I thought I was stronger that this. He is ordering his usual, black coffee. Acting like his presence doesn't bother you, you go on typing away, not that a single damn word is making sense, the tears, threatening to spill over, and give away, "your strong woman" act.
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You can feel his eyes burning on you, while he steals a quick glance, you don't want to meet his eyes, so you'll just pretend to be busy, even though the only thing your busy with, is trying not to break down and cry in front of everyone.
I can't, I can't do this shit, you say underneath your breath, you quickly pack everything up, put a few dollars down for the coffee, you notice, you didn't even touch the piece of chocolate mousse cake, Julie gave you! Eversince that day, you haven't had much of an appetite, not even for dessert.
Just waving, while running out the shop, unsure to where you want to go, honestly unsure of what to do with yourself, with your life without him , hell! tell me how did I turn into this person, to the woman who needs a man, not just any man but Dean Winchester! Tears streaming freely now, I've never in my life felt sadness that cuts this deep, leaving my damn heart in a thousand shreds. I should hate him, but oh how I love him.
.....
Showing up at your mom's house, she barely opened the door, when you knocked, you grab ahold of her in a heartbreaking way, sobs into her arms, mom tell me, please how do I let this pain go away, how do I forget about him, how do I move on when my heart is so torn apart, when all I want to do is run into his arms, searching for the comfort I always found there, tell me mom!, you say, tears making your mom's, brightly flowered shirt wet.
Oh honey, taking her fingers, trying to rub the tears away, only time will tell, my sweet girl. Mom, I don't want time to tell, I just want time to be turned back, back to when he loved me, when I was enough to make him happy, I just want him mom, with me, holding me, is that to much to ask for, your voice breaking now, is it mom?, I am not a bad person am I? Can't I just be really happy for once? Don't I deserve it mom?
Oh bug, you are breaking my heart, seeing you like this, I wish I could just bandage your heart together, make everything better, but I can't, not this time, but I'll tell you what, sweetie, let me make us some of that chamomile tea you like so much, then we can just sit and talk, or cry, or be in total silence, just what you need honey. Forming a little smile on your lips, that sounds nice thanks mom, we can talk, but not about this , anything else will do.
Sweet, soft smile coming from your moms lips, okay honey, did you hear about Mrs, Anderson, throwing lemonade, at Mrs Morgan, for stealing some of her flowers....
...
The two of you, spend the afternoon just talking about, light-hearted, topics, and also of course the surprise birthday party for the weekend for your dearest brother, oh how deeply you love him, the two of you are really close, but he is always away on business trips, so you kind of lost touch, but this weekend is all about catching up.
....
Giving your mom, one big heartfelt hug, I'll see you and daddy tonight, for dinner, you say while starting to walk towards the street, where you get into the cab, giving them your address, you need to freshen up for the free art classes you give for the kids at the church, you also need to try and cover up your swollen eyes. Your not much for makeup, you prefer just a little bit of mascara really, but you have a trick or two up your sleeve.
Arriving at your little house, which doesn't really feel the same anymore, it doesn't feel like a home without him, damnit escapes your lips, while throwing your keys on the kitchen countertop.
Just standing in the shower, while the hot water is running down your body, all you can think of, is the way he'd looked this morning, as if something is weighing, heavily on his shoulders, maybe he misses you, the thought enters your mind, you could've sworn your heart just skipped a beat, but you just suppress that little excitement of just maybe he feels the same. Getting out, the shower, grabbing the nearest towel, wrapping it tightly around your body.
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Walking to your dresser, opting out for a pair of dark blue jeans, and a plain black t-shirt, with your favourite pair of flat black boots, before closing the dresser, is when you spot it, he's favourite red flannel shirt you stole, to wear whenever you'll just be lounging around the house, taking the shirt, holding it closely to your beating heart, breathing in, the woody musky scent coming, from the shirt holding too much memories.
A little tear escaping and rolling over your cheek. Throwing it back into the closet, like it's the shirt's fault, you turn around to your mirror so that you can put on some makeup and get your hair done, deciding that you'll be going for the loosely braided hair you like so much.
You were just about done, when you hear your phone receiving a message, its from Eileen, "Hey sweetie, how are you doing? Listen you and me, we are going out for a girls night tomorrow, Sam's working late again so it's you and me, painting this town red, okay no excuses.!" A little smile forming across your lips, honestly you don't feel much like going out, but maybe she needs it just as much as you do. Texting her back , yeah hun let's do it , sounds like fun. I'll bring the red paint, with a laughing emoji, and some hugs and kisses you send the message.
Getting out the cab at church, grabbing your art supplies, walking towards the big welcoming doors, you breathe in, let's do this, you put on a big smile, hoping it'll take away the sadness in your eyes.
......
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Okay kids that's it for tonight, I'll see you again on Friday, and remember, there is no right or wrong when it comes to art, just let your heart do the talking, each of the kids between the ages of seven and thirteen, comes to give you a hug, before heading out, oh you truly loved every one so much.
Last little girl, named Tiffany to give you a hug, come running up to you , she's 7 and has so much potential of being an artist one day, hugging you, looking you in the eyes with her big brown eyes, asking you when is uncle Dean coming to visit again. You just hug her tightly and say, not sure honey, he is very busy at work, oh okay, she says, I miss him, have to go now... Love you, bye, she goes running off!
Oh that little one, has no idea, what she's done, sitting down, with your hands covering your face trying, to be strong, trying to fight back the heartbreak, from damming up in your eyes, you feel a hand firmly, but softly resting on your shoulder, turning around to see Pastor Cas, hi, Pastor you said trying to hide the pain in your voice.
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Are you okay, concern on his face, I will listen if you wanted to talk. Thank you Pastor, but is fine, I'll get better eventually, you say while getting up from your sitting position, gathering all the art supplies, you hear Pastor Cas say, I'm really here if you need to talk, and I know about you and Dean, I found him one night sitting in this same room, I think he came, here quite often when you weren't here, he told me the two of you broke up, I'm sorry to hear that he said empathy in his voice.
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Damnit! You said underneath your breath, how can I tell Cas, how much I despise and love his best friend, strangely enough the two of them just connected, Dean started to show up at the art classes you gave, to see you, in your element he said, with that mischievous smile of his!
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The kids quickly started to love him, as he would get on all fours and give them little horseback rides, one by one, while you were busy teaching the class, he and Cas would stand outside to talk and laugh. Dean would always tell you, that they're like brothers even though there so different.
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I'm really fine you said quickly glancing at him, seeing the concern in his face. You're my friend too, he said. I know, but I'm fine, I really need to go, I have dinner with my parents tonight you said, with a smile barely tugging at your lips. Oh, okay, you should enjoy it he said smiling, coming closer and giving you a little hug.
Enjoy your evening Cas, you said while walking outside, waiting for a cab to pick you up. You could drive yourself, but preferred using the taxi services, one of the reasons being your not very good with directions and of course the other one is, its just much more fun sitting in the back taking in the view, of the places you've seen so many times before, but there's so many details and little miracle's that could be easily taken for granted! Oh very artsy of me, you say to yourself, a smile creeping on your lips!
You wave the taxi down, smiling while getting in, your eyes meeting his, he quickly looks away. Giving him the address, you just sit there in silence, admiring the stars and moon shining so brightly, a big dark cloud, hiding the stars all of the sudden.
You should be at your parents house by now! Looking at the street sign, seeing its he's going the wrong way.
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Excuse me sir, you tap him on the shoulder, your going the wrong way, he turns to face you, his eyes as cold as breeze seeping through the window.
Sit back in your seat missy, I'm going the right way, his voice, sounding kind of raspy and mocking. So you adjust back in the seat, taking out your phone, knowing something is wrong you start typing away, the look he gives you in the mirror sends chills down your spine. It's him, the serial killer - Dean's been hunting.
Swallowing away the tightness in your chest, your fingers typing the words , "its the serial killer" before you could type, I love you mom, the car comes to a stop.
Breathing heavily you know its now or never, still holding you cell in your hand, you see him walking to the side of your door, turning slightly in your seat, your feet pointing at the door, he pulls it open, give me your damn phone he angrily says. That's when you gave it your all, you kicked him with both feet, and while he stuttering backwards, you turn around on your hands and feet, quickly crawling to the other side of the seat so that you can get away, your hand touching the door handle, almost there, biting your lip, ahhhhh! A scream escapes your lips, his pulling you out of the car by your ankles, trying to grab onto everything you can find, but there's nothing.
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You feel the dirt and rocks underneath your arms, scraping the skin, trying to find a way of getting away from his tight grip, stil squirming he grabs your hair, that's when you feel it, a pinch, almost mosquito bite like, into your neck, night, night, you little shit, you hear his voice, sounding very pleased with himself.
You can feel it starting to take affect, did I send the text, you wondered, tears staining your face, the darkness came over you despite the moon shining so brightly.
40 notes · View notes
manjirot · 2 years
Note
Please write about Sanzu making a rude comment about the readers size (more on the chubby size) and she doesn't want to say anything to Mikey because she doesn't want to upset him. But Mikey starts to notice she's eating less/redistricting what she eats, is more down on herself and suddenly starts to talk about loosing weight. Mikey talks to her about what's going on after he finds her crying in there bedroom infront of the mirror and ends up loosing it on all the bonten execs regarding the reader. They don't know until then that she's Miley's girlfriend.
I know not all chubby girls feel the need to be skinny but I've been feeling like garbage lately and need a Mikey pick-me-up ❤️
Love your work 🥰
omggg as a chubby girl myself this rlly hits home </3 probably two months ago, i went to the doctor bc i have autoimmune disease and his exact words as soon as he entered the room was “your problem is that your too fat.. think about losing weight alright.” so after that i basically started starving myself.. I would go a whole day w/o eating and if I did eat something it was small like crackers or something.. now I’m slowly trying to get back to eating correctly but I’m still having a hard time w it.. ppl don’t realize words actually hurt and hurt deep. anyways lemme start this story for you love and I hope it makes you feel better <3
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“Fat bitch.” Sanzu mumbled as he walked by behind you. Though it was loud enough for you to hear, “every time you see her she’s sticking food in her mouth.”
There you were, sitting at the bar in a beautiful red dress that Mikey bought you for this event. You sat at the bar, trying out desserts while Mikey was upstairs in a meeting. You loved cheesecake and Mikey made it clear for the waiter to serve you your favorite dessert without question.
You never considered yourself as a obese woman.. yeah, you had a tummy, a fat ass and huge thighs that drove your boyfriend, Mikey, insane. He loved every part of your body but every since he introduced you to his subordinates, you couldn’t help but feel disgusted with yourself especially when Sanzu looked at you like you were a disgusting slob.
He’d make some type of remark every chance he got and you pretended not to hear any of it but it did hurt, it hurted bad.
“Sanzu, please, that’s not nice.. she could’ve heard you.” Kakucho said following behind Sanzu.
“hmph, I don’t care if she heard me. Her eating habits are embarrassing and if I was Mikey I would put her ass on a slim fast.” Sanzu snapped.
You heard him say that and you placed the fork down on the counter and quickly got up, quickly walking out of the event.
“You damn idiot… see what you done?” Kakucho then ran after you.
“Y/N! Hey, Y/N!!” Kakucho called out until he finally caught up to you outside, “hey, are you alright? Don’t let him ruin your night alright?”
You turned around to face the scarred man and he saw tears falling, completely messing up your makeup. His stomach was in knots seeing you like this, you’re so kind and sweet to all of them and didn’t deserve any type of badmouthing. If he felt sick just seeing you cry he knew Mikey would feel ten times worse seeing his woman so upset.
You quickly wiped your face and gave Kakucho a smile, “I’m fine. I just needed to let that out.” You begin trying to get the attention of your driver.
“Are you leaving?” Kakucho asked.
You nodded, “I can’t let Mikey see me like this.. if he asks, just tell him I started having stomach cramps” just then the car drove up and parked beside you and Kakucho. You opened the back door and just before getting in you turned back at Kakucho, “Kaku?”
“Yes.” He answered.
“Please don’t tell Mikey what happened.. I don’t want him giving Haruchiyo a hard time because of me.” You said.
“But—” Kakucho words were cut off.
“Please, Kaku.” You said looking directly at him, “it’s fine, really. Please don’t let this get back to Mikey.”
Kakucho frowned and sighed, “alright. I won’t say anything.”
You smiled softly, “thanks Kaku, you’re the best.” and you finally got in the back seat and Kakucho closing the door for you.
Kakucho watched the car drive off and decided to go back into the event. As soon as he walked back in he see a panicked looking Mikey searching for you. He sighed… he knew he had to tell Mikey what you said but it was all lies. He wanted so bad to tell the real reason why you left so abruptly but he promised you he wouldn’t say anything.
The white haired man approached him quickly, “have you seen Y/N?” Mikey asked.
Kakucho swallowed, “she just left.”
Mikey frowned to his answer, “left? Why?? Did something happen?”
“No, she said she was having cramps and left because she didn’t wanna ruin the night for you.” Kakucho said.
Mikey looked up at Kakucho and looked away mumbling, “is that why she really left?”
“Yes..”
Mikey hummed, “alright.. I’m going out to call her.”
Kakucho nodded and let his boss pass him on the way outside. Kakucho then went to go find Sanzu who had two girls on each side of his lap in the V.I.P section. Kakucho glared down at Sanzu which scared the ladies
“May I help you?” Sanzu asked sarcastically.
“You’re really a piece of shit, you know that?” Kakucho said.
Sanzu chuckled, “wouldn’t be me if I wasn’t.”
“Y/N saved your ass from Mikey’s wrath tonight.. you should be grateful to her on the countless times she’s done that!” Kakucho snapped.
“BLAH BLAH BLAH!! Did you come over here just to tell me that? If so, you can take your uptight ass somewhere else!” Sanzu yelled. He was high and there’s no talking to him when he’s that way.
Kakucho grumbled and turned around to walk away, “junkie…” he mumbled.
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“Hey, baby” Mikey said into the phone, “are you alright?”
“Uh huh, yeah I’m fine.” You responded, “I just caught some really bad cramps.”
Mikey hummed, “you sound different.. you sound like you been crying.”
You tighten your grip on your cellphone. Of course he could tell when you been crying, you guys been dating since teenage years. He knew you more than you knew yourself. “Hahaha,” you tried laughing it off, “I do?”
Mikey didn’t say a word nor did he find anything funny. You could tell his silence meant he was dead serious, “baby?” You said.
“Y/N, what’s really the matter? Did something happen while I was in the meeting?” Mikey asked.
“No no! Like I said, I caught some cramps!” You answered, “I promise nothing else happened!”
Mikey sighed, “alright fine.. but I’m coming home to rub your tummy, just the way you like it alright?”
“Mikey, no! This is your event! You can’t just leave because of something for small and irrelevant!” You said.
“But you’re not small nor irrelevant, baby. I rather be home with you anyway. I miss you already.” Mikey said. That made you smile.. but you can’t allow him to see how puffy your eyes were from crying.
“I miss you too but it’s fine.. I’m just gonna take some pills and go to sleep. Don’t worry about me.”
“I’m always worried about you…” Mikey said.
You sighed, “please Mikey.. I’m fine, it’s really no big deal, okay? I’m gonna go to sleep.. I’ll talk to you later. Love you, bye.” click. you hung up the phone.
Mikey stared at his phone. He knew something wasn’t right.. he could tell it in your voice.
“Boss.” Kakucho called out from behind, “did you get in touch with her?”
“…yeah” Mikey answered, “but she sounded off.. I know she been crying but she wont tell me why, then she hung up on me.”
Kakucho frowned.
“I’m gonna go home to check on her. You and Haru wrap things up here.” Mikey said as he waved for a driver.
Kakucho nodded.
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When Mikey made it home, you were already in bed bundled up. Mikey took off his slippers and climbed into bed beside you. He moved your hair out of your face and kissed your cheek then he wrapped his arms around you. His hands roaming your body until he touched your stomach and squeezed it.
“So chubby,” he mumbled in the crook of your neck.
He thought you were sound asleep but you weren’t.. you were wide awake. And your eyes began to swell up with water. Did Mikey think you were too big also? Why would he say that?
You suddenly pushed Mikey off of you, “give me some space.” You said in a snappy tone. Mikey was concerned, that’s how you guys always slept.. so why now you needed space? “Y/N, what’s wrong?” Mikey asked. No response. “Y/N?”
“Geez, Mikey! I’m trying to sleep!! I don’t feel like talking right now!” Your voice was cracking and Mikey could hear it clearly now.
“Baby, why are you crying?” Mikey asked.
You didn’t answer him..
He got closer to whisper in your ear, “I love you, ya know that? So whenever you’re ready to talk I’ll be here. I won’t pressure you into telling me what’s going on… but don’t shut me out.. isn’t that what you always told me?”
His words made you silently cry harder. You really wanted to be in his arms and tell him everything but it’ll just caused trouble for the others and you didn’t want that.
“I- I’m fine, really..” you said in a low crackly voice.
You’re crying only made his chest ache. He couldn’t take it so he forcibly turned you on your back and pinned you arms back, “I hate it when you lie and I hate it more when you cry.” He said, “please tell me, what’s going on! If it’s something I can do, I’ll do it just tell me! Please don’t push me away when I know you’re hurting.”
Suddenly you burst into tears beneath him. Mikey let go of your arms and you immediately covered your face, “I’m sorry! hiccup I’m so sorry— I lied about the cramps because I didn’t want to cause trouble for anyone!” You cried.
Mikey removed your hands, “cause trouble? What are you talking about?” You turned away from his gaze but he gently turned your face back to him, “please tell me what happened.”
You deeply sighed, “ Haruchiyo.. he said some things about me and I got a little emotional about it. It’s not a big—”
Mikey cut you off, “what did he say?”
“He, um called me a fat bitch and said if he was you he’d put me on a slim fast..” you said lowly.
“So that’s why you left? Because you think your fat?” Mikey asked looking down at you.
You nodded. “I am.. even you think I am.”
He chuckled, “the only thing that’s fat on you is your pussy but in all seriousness, I don’t think your too big. You’re perfect in my eyes.”
He leaned forward to kiss you, “I love your curves. I love your thighs. I love your ass, oh and I love your tits.. they’re my personal pillows.” He said in between kisses.
He then leaned up to remove his shirt, “I’m gonna show you how much I love you and your beautiful body. I’m gonna show you I don’t need anyone but you.”
You wanted him. You needed him at this point. He then ripped your thin night gown, revealing your round firm tits, “I’ll get you a new one.”
You laughed, “you’re gonna go broke constantly buying me clothes because you be ripping perfectly fine clothes.”
“If I go broke for you then I’ll be content because you’re worth every penny.” He said as he sucked on your nipple. The sensation of his warm tongue caused you to moan, rubbing your fingers through his platinum hair. He finished it off by making a loud pop sound. He removed his pants and boxers, revealing his hard dick with precum leaking from the tip.
You leaned up to begin sucking it but Mikey stopped you, “remember I said I’m gonna show you.. it means that tonight is all about you. I want you to lay back and let me satisfy you.”
And he did just that.. all night until the sun was shining he showed you just how much he loved your body. He didn’t disappoint at all.
Through all the love making, Mikey didn’t forget about Sanzu… oh he was livid and was gonna make sure that Sanzu’s punishment was a reminder to the other executives to think twice before making his angel cry.
Come to find out Sanzu just had a huge crush on you… though that didn’t stop Mikey from breaking his nose and suspending all his access to his drugs.
Sanzu was a crying mess apologizing to you, “Y/NNN- I’m sowwy, I didn’t mean any of it! I just like you and I didn’t want the guys finding out about it!! My nose hurt so badddd- I’m so ughhh, I’m so sorry! Plwease forgive me! Mikey took away all my plugggs!!”
You forgive him without much thought.. though you fussed at Mikey for breaking his nose and all Mikey did was pout and asked if he could lay his head in between your tits.
Kakucho sure got a good laugh off of Sanzu’s misery. “Serve you right..”
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sadly this doesn’t have a title but it’s for all my curvy girls and especially @thisbicc <3 I’m so so sorry for the wait love but as I said before, I hope this makes you feel better!! You’re beautiful no matter what <3 always remember that lovely <33
445 notes · View notes
agendabymooner · 11 months
Text
MASTERLIST by agendabymooner
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note: what i had done so far... i think?
legends/genre:
a = angst g = general fic hc = hurt/comfort h = humour
s = smut (minors, dni) mc = mature content (minors, dni) f = fluff
ALSO CHECK OUT:
MOONY'S CHARACTER DIRECTORY
MOONY'S FILIPINO CHARACTERS DIRECTORY
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alex albon (aa23)
keeper, smau: polly berkshire has obscure interactions with her thirsty boyfriend and it's safe to say that they love each other.
fernando alonso (fa14)
the breakup and makeup series
time to rock and roll, fic: the first time beatrice staedtlander and fernando alonso had broken up. (hc)
heaven, smau: back in 2000s, fernando alonso and beatrice anastasia 'trish' staedtlander were every racing and wrestling fans' couple. years after, trish alonso became a mother and a wife... and the grid's crush of the season. fernando was certainly not happy so what's a better way to remind everyone that he was hers? (f, g, h)
from the ground up, smau: tino and tiago alonso were the twins that trish had given birth to at the age of 40, and everyone understood now why she didn't make it to the 2024 canadian gp. (f)
bonnie and the fame
maneater, smau: bonnie catherine sutton was carlos sainz's ex-girlfriend who returned to the f1 scene as a different woman. turns out, she's fernando alonso's fiancée (f)
ego, smau: never underestimate a woman's self-esteem, it might end up wounding you more than it would her.
jenson button (jb22)
the mr. darcy type, smau: much like the popular love interest, jenson should have known better than to say things that wouldn't impress a woman he grew interested in. OR ada abbott made sure that he worked hard for her time and attention. (f)
affection, blurb: in which, jenson learned that he should just say it without being a little too drunk.
pierre gasly (pg10)
newsflash, smau: ensley soleil doesn’t like playboys. too bad, pierre gasly’s down bad for her (attention and love). (f, g, h)
lowkey, smau: fans thought that pierre moved on from ensley four months after publicly declaring his (love?) for her. funnily enough... (f, g, h)
indigo, chatfic + smau: there's really no reason for pierre gasly to be jealous over some man that ensley wrote 'high school in jakarta' about. not when she wrote one or more songs about the frenchman. (f)
high school in jakarta, fic: meeting ensley’s close friends would also mean that he’d have to meet her high school sweetheart, who he believed he couldn’t compete against until ensley ensured that his two-day attendance wouldn’t be spoiled by some guy who couldn’t let go of some memories she couldn’t even remember. 
dancing with the devil, smau: ensley soleil doesn't care about what people are saying about her relationship with pierre especially now that she's married to him. (f)
do i make you nervous, blurb: lesson learned: just date her first rather than being friendly in the bed.
lewis hamilton (lh44)
stevie and lewis (hearth sister!ofc)
thick and thin, smau + fic: lewis should know better than underestimating her and her capabilities to yearn for him for years. (hc)
where the bad girls are (kpop idol!ofc)
lifted, smau: lewis is married to a kpop idol who happened to be one of the girls to shape the image of female groups in the korean pop community.
melody series (x ofc)
summary: with her sharp eyes focused on her audience, a burlesque performer who went under the name of melody returned to rythme romantique, an entertainment lounge which exclusively caters to the wealthiest people of monaco — or in this case, to the people with a status that are recognized by all. her three exclusive performances were meant to be a closure for her connections in the principality. still, a certain formula one driver saw it as an opportunity to reconnect with his former flame after two years of her absence. felicity vos learned that this was a rich man’s world and that he could do whatever he wanted, but she also realized that the agreement they settled on years ago was corrupted the moment he expressed his love for her. 
one, million dollar man: monaco was a world of glitz and glamour that she left two years ago. returning to the principality clearly was a huge mistake as she found herself talking to the man who swore to nothing but his love for her.
two, this is what makes us girls: "decorum isn't something you can buy with money or fame." or what did lewis really want from her and why did he show up on the second night of her performance?
charles leclerc (cl16)
of long lines and names, fic: five kids with (almost) five names under six years. OR the three pregnancies that charles had witnessed told him how motherhood and memories could come in two sets of twins and a boy that looked so much like him. (f)
the leclerc daycare, fic: before his last set of twins were born, charles had to watch his boys on his own (not exactly by himself when he's got esteban and pierre acting as his right hand men). (f)
lando norris (ln4)
london boy, smau: nicola 'cola' alessandro moved to britain and what's a better way to introduce yourself to england than taking a trip around with a certain mclaren driver? (f, g, h)
i think he knows, smau: grazia nichols published her debut novel based off formula one, and a fan could have sworn that the the book bf - nolan langford - was based off of lando's character as a driver altogether. (f, g, h)
honey, honey smau series (x ofc)
summary: hannah-sue ‘honey’ lewis is so much like her sideman brother with the exception of the fact that she didn’t watch formula one as much as she used to back when she had her crush on mercedes driver michael schumacher in 2010.
introduction
one, who tf is lando norris: she knows who she idolizes (and have a crush on; mason mount), she knows that she’s looking forward to getting the hell out of the university after two years of her masters degree program, and she knows that she doesn’t care about the formula one teams that aren't mercedes amg - she also knows she cares about mick schumacher.
esteban ocon (eo31)
the royal wildcard, smau: the british media's good at getting the juiciest details of gossip from the palace, but much to their dismay, princess albertine spencer followed the footsteps of her brother harry and had done an amazing job at hiding her marriage with a certain alpine driver for three months. (f, g, h)
the royal resemblance, smau: albertine ocon lived to give her estranged family something to talk about because of her physical appearance that could be confused with her mother's ghost. too bad, ditty ocon was born into the world with the same heart attack-inducing features.
sergio perez (sp11)
she's beauty, she's grace, smau: in which carmella ayala perez, the miss universe 2018 winner, tied the knot with checo after their five years of relationship and the birth of their second child.
oscar piastri (op81)
jollibee, madrid and all that romantic fiasco, smau: paloma san pedro is carlos sainz's cousin-in-law who also introduced oscar to his newly found filipino fast food chain addiction. safe to say that he bought a ticket last minute just so he can obsess over her, too.
kimi raikkonen (kr7)
stop the world i wanna get off with you, smau: vera 'coppa' coppola-raikkonen is the only one who can make the iceman talk a lot. she's also the only one who can make the chatty versions of him as their three older children (romania, rooney and johann-lauri) make their presence known to the racing community. (f, g, h)
daniel ricciardo (dr3)
rush series (x måneskin member!ofc)
read your diary, smau: it's 2021 and everyone thinks that lester and daniel are dating. lesson learned: never underestimate a fan's investigation skills. (g)
mamma mia, smau: an interview with jimmy fallon gives a brief idea of how lester and daniel came to be. (g)
mamma mia (again), smau: a youtube playlist was created to compile clips of danny talking way too much about his beloved girlfriend (f)
gossip, smau: everyone thinks lester's only here to be a formula one girlfriend with a bad reputation. it's not her fault she's confident. (mc, hc, h)
kool kids, smau: lester and daniel are going to new york to see a musical... while babysitting their "kid" (feat. lando norris) (g, h)
timezone, fic: lester wasn't normally like this, but she's more than willing to pay twice the price just to get to the next flight to where he wanted her: his arms, her home. (hc)
if not for you, smau: messages exchanged between lester and others as she takes care of the wolff children and an ex with the poorest decisions to have existed. (feat. lando norris, max verstappen, charles leclerc and characters from a story) (f, g, h)
baby said, smau: many tweets are posted that they don't often mean. their fans thought that his marriage proposal was one of them. (f, g, h)
supermodel, smau: how not to cry when you're talking about the man who'd give you the wedding that you dreamed of? (f, g, h)
rush series: wedding special
london bridge, smau: the alessandro-ricciardo wedding week is nothing of a peaceful week, and the monday only proved that thought right. (feat. f1 drivers) (f, h) - wedding special 1
fergalicious, smau: the grid singles need to touch some grass… or in lando’s case, go swimming. (feat. f1 drivers) (h) - wedding special 2
l'azienda di famiglia (e le donnole dell'isola), smau + fic: the alessandro family arrived and lando and george found themselves alone with two of the sisters. (feat. lando norris and george russell) (f, g) - wedding special 3
rush: mrs. ricciardo special
part of you, smau: mrs. lester ricciardo asks her followers what to get her husband for his 35th birthday. little did danny know, she’s already got one ready to surprise him (f, g)
when emma falls in love, smau: as her pregnancy progressed, lester ricciardo made sure that her sanity wouldn't go the other way as she posted a thread of journal entries talking about her pregnancy. (f, h)
slipping through my fingers, smau: beau ricciardo was his dad's carbon copy and his mom's little heartbreaker.
george russell (gr63)
his family and her lover, smau: eleanora 'nora' alessandro was more than happy for george's willingness to step up as her children's father regardless of how people poorly reacted on their relationship.
carlos sainz jr. (cs55)
ride home, smau: the ferrari driver accidentally outed himself as a married man, so mona magdalena sainz stepped in to say hi to his loyal fans. (f, g, h) (extra)
dear, smau: nobody loved each other more than magda and carlos sainz. OR a series of tweets in which magda and carlos never took each other seriously. (h)
mick schumacher (ms47)
she's everything... and he's just mick, smau: barbara 'barbie' blanco is the vettel family's foster child that gradually turned to kimi vettel's nanny and mick's crush? (f, g)
"besties", smau: everyone swore that mick and barbie are more than "babysitting pardners" (f)
who is kenough, smau: mick nearly took the piss from arthur leclerc after the posts that the monegasque had of barbie. too bad, mick was already hers before arthur could even try.
kenergy unfolded, fic: written version of who is kenough OR arthur leclerc was only scheming just so mick could do something about revealing his relationship with barbie.
lance stroll (ls18)
gotta be you, smau: bora mckinnon made her presence known in the paddock one year after lance broke up with her. now, they're all over the media because of his presence in her three birthday celebrations. the question still stands: are they getting back together?
yuki tsunoda (yt22)
line without a hook, smau: pia ellis misses her mystery bf that everyone thought to be her delusions. it turns out he's a formula one driver who definitely misses her too.
max verstappen (mv1)
to loathe and to love series (x ofc) (wip)
summary: there is a massive difference between the two words, but sylvie was more than willing to blur out the line if it means for her to spend some time with what others called her soulmate, max verstappen.
one, it’s time to go: sylvie attended a christmas party and couldn’t seem to do what she normally did on the paddock: avoid max (a)
two, closure: her memories haunted her so much that the red bull team principal thought of her to be incompetent, so it was only ideal of max to face the music too. (a)
three, goodnight n go: she wasn't sure what was more surprising: toto's presence on her graduation celebration or max's expensive graduation gifts. (f)
four, gorgeous: there's nothing more satisfying than seeing christian horner own up to his own mistake. that, and max's office-warming gift that he dropped off in sylvie's new on-site office.
five, cinema: sylvie was left feeling unsure when she and max did things that friends normally wouldn't do after she was broken up with by another man. (hc, mc, s)
six, satellite: max verstappen might've avoided talking about what they had done before all of this, but he was certain he wouldn't get out of his way just to ignore her as he swore not to her one way or another ever again. (a, hc)
seven, mean: sylvie found herself with a million and a half pounds and winning against the boys who brought her racing career to an early end.
eight, long story short: they're friends, they said. they bought a house and adopted a dog together, they definitely did.
nine, mastermind: max wasn't going to admit that he was jealous. he wasn't going to tell her that he sabotaged her blind date, either. not that she didn't know.
ten, comfort crowd: ah yes, the first monday of may. when everyone speculated that sylvie was merely using him and when she finally admitted to missing him for the past four years.
eleven, matilda: they don't know much, maybe, but they know how they'll raise their children away from the toxicity that they grew up in, all thanks to their fathers who did nothing but set expectations. (hc)
extra: matilda volume two, smau: set years after the tltl series in which sylvie and max have the most adorable set of kids called emilia, lila and maximilian. (f)
to loathe and to love: extras (x ofc)
lost in japan, smau: just two lost souls (with a tour guide) travelling to japan to make up for the childhood they missed. (f)
sebastian vettel (sv5)
crazy rich wife, smau: everyone (some twitter account) wonders where the recently retired german driver had gone to after the 2022 season. thank god for bel vettel, his fans now know that he’s still alive and is being spoiled and pampered by his wife. (f, g)
sweet spoiled husband (+ son), smau: mick schumacher is a grown man that both bel and seb treat like their own child. (f, g)
sweet spoiled schatzi, smau: bel and seb introduce the newest addition to their little family, and mick seems to love kimi vettel as much as a godfather loves his godchild. (f)
sweet little similarities, smau: bel and everyone could tell that kimi vettel was becoming more like his father, sebastian's, carbon copy as days went on. (f, g, h)
sebastian and sons (and soufflés), fic: day in the life of a retired sebastian vettel, featuring his kids kimi and barbie (and a nervous mick). (f)
toto wolff
colour me your colour series (x ofc) (wip)
summary: tilly marie nearly loses faith in her passion as she refuses to listen to everyone who told her to quit. everyone but one. and it’s the man she met years ago at a racing event she didn’t want to attend. who would have thought that her father’s partial ownership of three brands could take her to the zone of Mercedes and meet the love of her life?
one, what a beautiful sight that was: it was 2006 and she wanted nothing but to finish her research paper. their curiosity led them to a fifteen minute conversation that they would need to continue eight years after. (g)
two, tilly marie wants to go to hell: it's 2014 and she attended the british gp as a communication liaison for red bull. she didn't know that the man she met years ago was the team principal of mercedes, the rival team that her best friend drives for. lewis hamilton was more than amused to see her flustered, if you were to ask him. (g)
three, juliet's hit list: how can one give the heart eyes? daniel and lewis found tilly and toto flirting behind the cameras and behind the press audience and decided to mess with them. (g)
four, fast lane but not the race weekend kind: daniel and lewis might as well be attending a sleepover if they keep asking tilly about her relationship with toto. (g)
five, how to romance and cry in the same day: tilly goes on a date with toto for the first time and learns about her father's intention to pass ownership to her. (a, f, g)
six, love on camera: tilly and toto have a bad habit of flirting not so subtly.
seven, age is just a number and love is just a shame: tilly, while she believed her mother was right about the age difference between her and a certain mercedes team principal, is sure that she isn't falling fast and hard for him.
colour me your colour: extras (x ofc)
the paddock's resident it girl, smau: besides from owning three of mercedes' competitors in the track and being the mercedes team principal's wife, she's also known as the cool girl of the paddock for her taste in fashion and husband. (f)
the paddock's lucky husband, smau: with him being spoon-fed with love from his children and wife, toto really couldn't ask for more. OR tilly wolff liked to talk about fashion but her family? she might as well write a whole book about them. (f)
the paddock's resident menace and the dame, smau: tilly wolff was presented with a damehood and her daughter tia, the girl who tends to act on her mischievous way (all thanks to toto), celebrated her 7th birthday during the silverstone gp week. fans recall her best moments in sky sports and media overall.
f1 drivers (general)
9 to 5 series (x characters) (spin-off of cmyc and rush)
summary: lorelei hester ‘lester’ alessandro is a bassist first and daniel ricciardo's partner second. but it seems like another role is added to her resume as she begins her weekend in baku as toto wolff’s children’s babysitter.
the original five and the playlist
one, baby names and text messages: lester receives a text message from an unknown number, only for her to offer max verstappen's seat to her boyfriend.
two, max's lowered iq and linkedin profiles: max tries to defend himself as he experiences the morning wrath of lester.
three, the most toto coded children: toto gets ready for the baku weekend by styling his daughter's hair and thinking that he could just stay at home and talk business with his kids.
four, papa, soren and tia's promise hug: lester's more worried that she'll mess up her duties and upset the father of the two wolff cubs.
five, the little weapons of destruction distraction: the first half of her babysitting day consisted of reading too much, learning the word 'accident' and daniel ricciardo being a bad influence on toto wolff's shy son.
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