#other than that it's just business as usual

[the-xolotl]

A Taste of Darkness Itself

Alastor x fem!Reader x His Shadow

ᯓღ Filthy one-shot of Alastor’s shadow railing reader.

ᯓღ a/n: i have been rotting on this idea for like literal weeks and i finally had the willpower to write it. idk how it got to 3.5k but it did. ENJOY !

SUMMARY: You hate being away from Alastor, but at least the silver lining is that Al’s shadow is nice company while he’s away. Today, though, it was a little more needy than usual.

ᯓღ CW: biting, licking, belly bulging, slight voyeurism, accidental exhibitionism, slight dub-con, no use of y/n, fem reader, size kink, monster fucking?, some aftercare, squirting, overstimulation, cumflation.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED IN SIGHT. Thank you~

Waking up without Alastor is always a bummer; turning over to find a cold, empty spot where your lover should be have been isn’t a great way to start the morning. Being understanding of how busy he is and that sometimes this Overlord duties take him away from the hotel and essentially from you doesn’t take away from how much you dislike it. At least when he had trips to the other side of the pentagram he often left his shadow behind to look after you and keep you company.

The shadow you had affectionately named Shade often attempted to keep you entertained or went with you about your day. Shade has always been pretty docile with you, at least when you are in his care. Sometimes you wonder if it’s capable of its own feelings or if Shade is only nice to you because Alastor tells it to, or because being part of Alastor means he also loves you somehow. You’ve never discussed it with your lover but you like to think it’s the former simply because it makes it more special and cute.

Today, especially, you think about how that works because Shade had been especially clingy and… a little needy. In a way, as clingy as a being that can’t talk or isn’t really tangible can be but he keeps distracting you by making you pay attention to it; showing you little trinkets (don’t have the slightest idea where it got them), turning on the nearest radio to play smooth jazz to dance to. It took your shadow’s hand to twirl you around and dip you down or wrap itself around your shadow.

“You’re acting like me when I’m being clingy with Alastor,” you giggle, petting the top of its transparent head. You get the sensation that it leans into your touch even when you’re not really touching it. Shade has its charm, the shadow is definitely sentient and thinks on its own outside of Alastor’s orders.

You start retracting your hand but Shade snatches it with a somewhat tight grip, something it doesn’t really ever do. “What’s wrong?” your voice filled with a mix of concern and confusion. His expression is indiscernible with a wide grin still edged on its flat features and being that it can’t speak you can’t expect a response either. However, your confusion turns to absolute bewilderment when Shade intertwines your fingers together with it, actually seeing and feeling a cold touch wrapped around your hand.

It sent a shiver down your spine, it was like touching a corpse; cold and clammy. Slowly, Shade emerged from the wall. It’s a little funny the way it looks like a sentient sticker pealing itself off a flat surface but as it left the wall of Alastor’s bedroom its form changed into something akin to materialized dark matter. Not quite slimy or gooey but also not entirely gaseous; just pure darkness in the silhouette of Alastor and just as tall.

Shade is still holding your hand and not letting you go, smile even wider, one that reaches the blank holes of his eyes. While it didn’t feel menacing it’s off-putting seeing and being grabbed by a tangible shadow. You’re looking up at it with wide eyes, blinking owlishly, “Shade…?” your voice cracked. Again, you weren’t scared but very shocked as it had never shown you this form before. Shade draws closer to you excitedly, enveloping your entire body in its chill embrace. “Oh, oh you’re cold,” you laughed nervously, “Since when can you— Oof,” you’re caught off by Shade lifting you up and taking you to Alastor’s bed in a blink of an eye. Even more confused and a little concerned now you attempt to free yourself from his grasp but it only tightens as Shade nuzzles its face against your cheek and neck.

“A-Alright buddy, haha. What are you doing there?” Shade is harmless, and there’s no doubt in your mind it would hurt you. Not with Alastor being his master and you being the love of its master’s life. It’s an odd sensation having the manifestation of darkness pinning you down onto the bed with a bit of rough force. Even still, you can’t help but be endeared by the affection the creature is giving you.

It’s innocent enough until you feel ghostly lips pressed against your neck, trailing up to your jawline and then to your cheek and stopping at the corner of your mouth. You’re frozen for a few moments, eyes wide, and you swear you hear a record scratch. “Shade…?” you whisper again but it doesn’t move. You hear it make a noise that sounds like a laugh or a chuckle. It’s something between radio static and demonic growls. Before you have another moment to process, the shadow is stealing your lips again in a hungry kiss.

You surprise yourself by returning it but are unable to keep up as Shade robs you of all the air in your lungs rather quickly as the kiss deepens. It’s heated and has you gasping for air soon. You have to fight to breathe between the savage kisses it seems to not get enough of. The darkness of its lower body starts wrapping around your thighs parting them to better accommodate itself between them.

Gasping you pull away from the desperate lips to finally fill your lungs with proper oxygen with big gasps. Icy fingers travel up your thighs digging its sharp claws and making you hiss. “Shade!” you yelp its name when it decided to shove its entire hand up your skirt and past your panties to give experimental rubs at your pussy. You arched and squirmed under its touch as he watched your reactions with rapt enthusiasm and attention. Heat begins to creep up your face, red dusting your cheeks in embarrassment. But you can’t help your hips bucking into its chill touch, “More,” you moan.

Shade tilts its head to the side, the holes of his eyes still boring into your face. You nod at it, breathing heavily, and grinding your hips up again, “Please, more,” you mewl again enjoying the contrast in temperature between your warm folds and the coldness of its slender fingers.

Shade presses further then, rubbing your folds up and down, your pussy is quickly becoming increasingly wet under its attention. The shadow lets you grind against its fingers, occasionally rubbing at your erect clit. Soft moans and heavy breaths spill from your lips as you let the sentient being have its way with you. His mouth returns to your skin to kiss and nip at it creating a path of blooming red marks across your collarbone and chest.

Once your juices are practically dripping down to the sheets, Shade decided to dip in two fingers. It’s a tight fit that has your back arching and eyes rolling back but you welcome them spreading your legs even further inviting it in. He makes what you can only assume is a pleased low, reverberating growl. Your soaked cunt makes it much easier to slide them in despite the resistance, and oh how or where did this being of darkness and magic learn how to finger fuck so good?

Even with the frosty presence over your entire body, you feel the temperature rising around you, the room quickly growing hot and stuffy. You needed out of your clothes, except Shade still hadn’t let go of your hands yet, it held them up with one of his as he devoured the rest of your body with love bites and kisses. “Shade— Clothes, off. I need—” and just like that your clothes went up in smoke leaving you completely naked and more of your body exposed to the shadow’s hungry eyes. Its eye travels over your every curve, mapping its ups and downs, every groove. Finally, its hand releases your wrist in favor of touching your skin, especially your plush chest. It grabbed and squeezed at your tits feeling the size and weight of them. The contrast of the heat of your skin felt delightful against his cold one.

Shade pinched at your nipple, tugging it earning more moans and pleas. You’re losing yourself bit by bit, succumbing to the pleasure not even thinking about the consequences—would there be consequences?— you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “C’mere,” you whimper, a hand coming up to cup the side of his head and guiding him down to eye level with your chest. Shade didn’t resist and went down willingly, “Suck,” keeping its eyes on your face he obeyed willingly taking the hardened bud in its mouth sucking and digging little sharp teeth into the soft flesh. Meanwhile, his other hand hadn’t stopped, in fact, its fingers sped up in scissoring motions to coax your cunt open. Both your hands are on his head now holding on for dear life while you allow it to take you however it likes. And maybe you didn’t have a choice, you aren’t really calling the shots, but it didn’t matter. Not when you can feel your first orgasm building in your core.

Shade is oddly good at pleasuring you, in the back of your head you still wonder how, a morbid part of you think it’s from it possibly watching the way Alastor touched you. It’s then the fleeting thoughts of missing your boyfriend float momentarily in your lust-ridden mind. As your moans got more frequent and louder, your fingers digging harder into the shadow you felt yourself an inch away from coming. You cum with a scream and your orgasm wrecks through your entire body but Shade doesn’t miss a beat. It doesn’t stop, it doesn’t pause. The shadow continues to assault your g-spot while he alternates between biting and sucking at your breasts, even planting its palm against your clit while it continues to finger you to add even more stimulation.

Your body is shaking uncontrollably and the only thing keeping you in place is its grasp over your body. “Fuck me, please fuck me. I can’t take it anymore, fuck. I need your cock inside me,” voice desperate, as if your livelihood and sanity depend on being stuffed. You didn’t have to wait long for that request to be fulfilled either. The removal of his fingers from your wet pussy had you whining and clenching around nothing but almost as soon as they were gone they were replaced by something bigger pressing into you.

A tendril is teased along your folds with curiosity, as if copying movements and your suspicions that Shade is following Alastor’s actions in bed click subconsciously in your head. However, you’re too busy focusing on the tentacle between your legs now pressing its way inside you. Shade makes a noise and radio static spreads across the room, it makes a whiny sound along with your loud moan at the feeling of the thick length stretching you out. Your nails made their way to its back scratching at pitch darkness.

“Shade, don’t—” you tried to warn it to be gentle but it was too late. The shadow followed the tight heat of your dripping pussy and sheathed itself in one thrust making you cry and scream out. Tears slide down your cheeks, your body trembling already, writhing and trying to pull away from the fat tendril penetrating you. But it wouldn’t allow you, Shade only pinned you harder against the mattress with shadow tentacles and lifted your hips up to begin thrusting into you.

The shadow clearly had never done this before, given the sloppy way it’s thrusting into you with little rhythm but, it’s hard and it’s intense. The radio static buzzed across your skin rising goosebumps, Shade’s own moans increased; they sounded deliciously demonic. It picked up the pace before you even had time to adjust, “S-Slow down, too much,” but it didn’t listen. The restraints only got tighter, Shade didn’t mean to but it’s losing itself to the immense pleasure your body is giving it. The shadow continued to lick and bite anywhere it could, adding claws to the mix; its hand began to roam across your curves committing them to memory and dragging sharp nails that nearly broke skin anywhere it touched.

You felt Shade all around you overwhelming your senses and caging you on the bed. There’s no escape, not that you wanted to really, the mischievous shadow has you screaming and moaning its name wantonly. Despite begging it to slow down the pace you’re still wrapping your legs around its shadowy torso brining him closer to you.

“Kiss me, Shade. Kiss me again.” you plea between sobs of ecstasy. Its mouth leaves your tummy where it had been passionately sucking hickeys to comply with your request. It’s hot and heavy with a long tongue prodding your mouth, moaning loudly you enthusiastically accept the ravenous kiss. Shade’s hand in the meantime takes purchase on your hips for the purpose of guiding you up and down its cock and using your body as a life-size flesh-light. The shadow is still hammering into you and bullying your cervix with every rock of its hips, being mean about it by pulling all the way to the tip just to slam you back down for your ass to meet its hips.

You’re unsure how many times you’ve cum by now, it’s certainly been a couple times but you’ve been completely unaware because your mind is on cloud nine and the difference between pain and pleasure has been blurred. Right then, a particularly hard thrust straight into your sensitive bundle of nerves makes your body go limp, mouth hung open in a silent scream, no sound coming out but your body convulses within the dark grasp of its massive hand. Your eyes had rolled back so far only the whites of your eyes were visible and you swear you died again right then. Shade’s pace didn’t falter, fucking you straight into overstimulation, fucking you dumb, drool dripped from your agape mouth.

Shade is becoming increasingly feral with his ministrations, you’re to the point where you can’t hold a single thought for more than a second, not being helped by Shade maneuvering your body to turn you over so your chest is being pressed against the mattress and your ass is high up in the air. It doesn’t miss a beat thrusting into your spent cunt to continue right where it left off. Its pace doesn’t falter for a second no matter how arduous it’s been fucking into you and you’re not better than a rag-doll being used for the shadow’s pleasure. Your throat is raw and sore from all the screams, moans, and whines.

You’re tired, possibly nearly unconscious, and completely drunk in pleasure. Pleas of mercy have turned to begs of more, don’t stop, harder over and over like a desperate prayer. Even your cheeks are raw from the tears, every little caress makes them sting but you take it. Your hips are pushing back against its cock, off rhythm but the effort is there. There’s no matching the shadow’s inhuman pace even if your stamina could. Barely. Shade tangled a shadowy hand in your hair to press your head into the sheets, using its weight to cage you down.

You feel its long, icy tongue lick a path from the bottom of your spine all the way up the nape of your neck, tasting the coat of sweat over your body. It sends a full body shiver and for once you actually feel yourself cum. Sinking further into the mattress your hands cling onto the sheets tightly, “Shade, no more, no more please!” you can’t even recognize your own voice. It’s hoarse, barely audible. The lewd, squelching sound bounced off the walls, and the sounds of your bodies rang loud in your ears making the blush of your face an even brighter red. Its thrust is brutal and unrelenting. It’s beyond you how you can withstand being split open by such a beast without breaking. It seems to obey you for the first time since it started having its way with you body.

However, in the next moment, it’s pulling your hair to bring up against his chest. Leaning back against the headboard and laying your back against him with its cock still nuzzled deep inside you. You look down to assess the damage, your tired eyes go wide seeing all the bloody bites and scattered bruises, there are finger pricks around your hips and thighs where he gripped you. The thing that really draws your attention is the prominent bulge in your tummy and the sheer size of the stretch of your hole. There’s cum and juices dripping down to your and Shade’s thighs too. You relax into the embrace, exhausted even if you’re still being made to cock-warm it, at least it’s no longer moving; you’re far too overstimulated and doubt you could handle any more.

The Shadow, though, had other plans. Shade appears to have infinite stamina already grabbing the underside of your thighs to lift you up and down his girthy length. You have neither the will nor the strength to combat it, only tightening around it and holding on to its forearms for dear stability. Shade used its tongue to lick away stray tears as one of its ghostly hands pressed on the bulge on your belly. It made you yelp, every inch dragging along your inside felt like your insides were on fire. Your eyes are fixed on where its cock disappeared inside you mesmerized by the way it parted your folds and your body accommodates it. “S-Shit you’re— so fucking big.” your voice is small, pathetic, barely audible. But your hips are still moving, you’re still ready to cum for the umpteenth time today.

Head swims with lust, you’re reaching highs of rapture you never thought possible; Shade has pushed you to your absolute limits miraculously without breaking you. It growls again, louder this time, and its hold on you clamps down like a vice. It makes you wince in pain before you feel a hot liquid spill and cover your insides. It came, finally, triggering your own orgasm with a shrill scream. You squirt involuntarily just from the overstimulation alone. The sheets soak and make a huge mess from the spray of juices, making a mess on your own legs, and Shade’s as well. This time it actually stops thrusting now that it has reached its release but doesn’t pull out, you lay there completely limb in his arms. It goes back to nuzzling your face sweetly, making a purring sound, and caressing your stomach softly. You could barely keep your eyes open at this point from sheer exhaustion.

Hearing a familiar voice yanks you out of your blissful trance, “I see you have been quite busy today, my dear.” A silky smooth voice resonates across the room making your head whip around to find the source. Alastor steps out of the shadows with a wide, wicked smile. You try to find your words but it’s futile. You’re too far gone and there’s no way you’re able to speak now. However, Alastor doesn’t press further, nor does he comment on the cuddling. He knew already, of course. For now, he’d let you rest and have a stern talk with his shadow later. “Why don’t we get you cleaned up, hmm?” he offered with a soft voice and a gentle hand. Shade lifted you into his arms and disappeared back into the shadows suddenly leaving you feeling empty and copious amounts of cum spilled from your pussy, making you wince and grimace. Alastor stayed silent as he carried you to the bath, running warm water before easing you in.

“I missed you today.” were the first words you managed to croak out. Your throat is still fucked, it likely would be for some time. Alastor is careful cleaning your body and rolling up his sleeves to be able to wash your hair. You’re not quite meeting his gaze, which he found amusing.

“Did you now? You seemed a little preoccupied when I came back— In fact you didn’t even notice when I had arrived.” the lilt in his voice is teasing, you can hear a chuckle.

You groan softly, “You watched?” you ask with embarrassment written all over your face. He silently continues to massage the shampoo into your hair without answering the question. You didn’t know what made it worse; the silent confirmation or if he had admitted to watching you get absolutely wrecked by his shadow.

“Don’t worry, darling. I’ll have my turn with you and you can have the real thing. See how you manage then.”

Your thighs clenched at his statement. Your whole body ached painfully, there’s no way you’ll be partaking in any strenuous activities for at least a week; there’s no way you’re walking for a couple days either. Alastor chuckled at how easily he could rile you up even after getting absolutely destroyed by a demonic entity.

“Just so you know, me and that shadow are connected,” he brought the shower head to rinse the shampoo off, “It’s a part of me, its thoughts are my thoughts, what it feels I feel.” It almost seems like an offhanded piece of information but this makes you realize something. Shame, embarrassment, and horror make your body stiffen.

Are you an Alastor simp? Are you over the age of 18? Join our server~

—

© 2024 the-xolotl — all rights reserved. do NOT alter, translate, or repost my works on any platform without my consent, do not claim my content as yours.

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐝 ✮⋆˙

synopsis: Your secretary Alhaitham and you have a tension full relationship, but he finally snaps after some miscommunication- or lack thereof!

tags: angst for like 1 second, explicit, cunnalingus, office setting, penetration, vulgar

wrd cnt: 1.9k

a/n: repost/rewrite from first acc!

As the CEO of a thriving business, you were known for your sharp wit and unmatched determination. Alhaitham, your steadfast secretary, had always admired you from a distance, his heart secretly harboring a deep affection for you. The dynamic between you two was a blend of professionalism and underlying emotion, a sentiment you both tried your best to hide. It was more than him getting you coffee each morning, more than the soft shoulder massages he’d give you at the end of the day, more than the glances you’d exchange at each meeting.

One evening, you find yourself mindless scrolling down a dating site. Half of you bored, half a little curious. You leave your computer on and exit your office on a lunch break.

Unfortunately for you...your secretary came in to deliver your papers and set them on your desk, glancing at the screen.

You hear the door open to the break room, Alhaitham entering.

"Ms. Y/n, would you like me to schedule anything for you this evening? Or are you doing something personal..." He asks, catching you off guard as it's not usual for him to pry like this.

"No it's fine, I do have something later tonight. Thank you though!" You reply. Watching Alhaithams eyes dim.

The night of the blind date arrived, you got ready with a mix of excitement and apprehension. You chose a stunning outfit and hoped the evening would be a pleasant distraction from all your stressors at work. However, as the night progressed, you realized your heart wasn't in it.

You find yourself subconsciously comparing your date to Alhaitham, his genuine care, and the way he always seemed to know what you always needed. He's always there, fixing things up, making your life so easy and balanced. He knew how to make you happy.

During a lull in the conversation, your date asked if everything was okay. You hesitated before admitting that your mind was elsewhere.

Unbeknownst to you, Alhaitham had decided to swing by the same restaurant after his work hours. It was one of his favorites and one he made you familiar with too, hence why you even decided to pick it for your date.

He had been feeling restless all evening, and a strange intuition led him there. And of course he saw you and your date, talking and spending an evening dinner together.

His heart raced, and he couldn't ignore the surge of emotion. He sat at the other end of the room for about 10 minutes; before getting up and leaving.

You stood up, your body reacting without your minds permission. You followed after him for 20 minutes. Your poor date left in confusion, but it didn't matter.

After not much longer you find Alhaitham back at the office.

You park your car adjacent to his and enter the building, feeling your knees shake as you felt like you did something wrong. You two had always had a sort of...tension. Unspoken, undelved, and more complicated than you could explain.

You're going up the elevator, you know exactly where he could be. Your intuition speaks true.

"Alhaitham!...there you are." You say in a sigh, catching him in your office, organizing the filing cabinet as his light green eyes cut through the air separating you two in the room.

You walk closer to him, the night sky illuminated by the lights of the city, the moon shining through the big glass walls of your corner office.

"Is something the matter? There's no work left on your agenda for tomorrow....l checked." He remarks, pretending like nothing had happened.

"Meaning you have none either...why are you here Alhaitham? You just- left? You didn't even say Hi..." You mention.

His head quickly turns as if you’ve offended him.

"You...wanted me to come talk to you while you were on a date with your partner?"

"My partner? I just met that guy tonight...why would that be a problem anyways?" You say.

Alhaithams scoffs, visibly trying to articulate himself in the professional manner he’s tried so hard to maintain with you.

"It's just-it's not appropriate, is all, we have a professional relationship, right?"

"Well, I mean I consider you a friend, you don't think the same?"

Alhaitham slams the filing cabinet shut, truthfully startling you.

"Your friend? I am your secretary. I plan your meetings, I make your spreadsheets, I bring you coffee, I make sure you finish your agenda, and I take care of all your needs."

"Then why are you acting like this...?" You say in a lighthearted tone, laughing smally. "What do you not approve of my date or something?" You laugh as you get closer to him, a little too close to call friendly.

You let that comment slip out of your mouth, and quickly it's replaced with Alhaithams tongue.

Pinning you to the wall you once leaned on as you spoke, now moaning into his mouth.

He pulls away, his lips touching you as he speaks. "I take care of you. I should be the one you spend your evening with. Right here. In this officer." He mutters, before you pull him back into the kiss.

You can't help but melt right into him, his grip now released from wrists as your hands wrap around his head, his hands holding your waist and the side of your face.

"I didn't know you felt that way...should have said something sooner."

"Well I'm saying it now. You're my boss. Mine to take care of. Mine."

The kiss doesn't last long before things get heated, your secretary now kissing down your neck...unbuttoning your top as his lips trial down your body. He throws your clothes nicely on top the chair nearby, as he works his way down your waist, leaving a trial of evidence down your body.

His jade green eyes glisten in the moonlight, as he drags your panties down with his teeth.

"You can't know how long l've wanted to do this... y/n. How long l've admired you, watched you, I serve you completely." He says, as you feel his warm breathe around out cunt.

"Alhaitham... what are y-" You're cut off, feeling Alhaithams mouth split your lips open, his tongue grazing up your folds and circling your clit. You try to stay standing, holding yourself up with a hand on the cabinet, your other on top of his head. He looks up at you frequently, as he kneels below of you: licking your hole and pumping his fingers inside it. He sucks on every part of your cunt, tasting every inch like his salary depends on it.

The feeling of his hands running up your thighs, and his mouth sucking on your swollen clit, push you over the edge in no time. The vibrations of Alhaithams moans send themselves into your cunt, forcing you to cum; all, over, his face.

You writher and squirm while your knees shake.

Feeling his large tongue lick every drop of cum that spills out of you. Wiping the corners of his mouth with his fingers and sucking it off, savoring you.

He comes back up and kisses you, making you taste yourself.

You kiss him deeply, wanting his tongue. You're both pulling at each other, pushing your bodies closer as you moan into each others mouths against the wall.

"Alhaitham...give me more." You say softly into his ear, as your hands rub his erecting through this pants. Your hand reacted faster than your mind, you couldn't believe this is what you and your secretary were doing right now, but you don't want to stop now.

"Y/n...let me, this is about you." He says, quickly lifting you up with his hands under your thighs, turning you around and dropping you softy on the wooden desk behind you two. Your desk.

He slowly undressed you, leaving you bare infront of him. You lift up your leg and prop it on the corner of the desk, you make him watch as you spread open your lips with two fingers, playing with your pussy while he undressed. "This is what you wanted huh? What a naught secretary."

His face got even more red, before he kissed you again. "You're what I want." He quickly says, before his mouth is latched onto your hard nipple, as the other gets rubbed and pinched by his hand.

"Keep playing with yourself, it's so fucking hot." He snared, biting and sucking your chest, softy enough to make it painless but feel so fucking good.

As Alhaitham works on your tits, his cock springs out of his last piece of clothing.

Leaving so much saliva and hickies on and around your puffy nipples, you're eyes meet with his cock. A slightly dark tan, with the prettiest shaft and a throbbing red tip; just waiting to fuck you.

"Please boss...tell me you'll have me. Let me take care of you."

"Then do it, it's your job, right?" You smirk, before you softy hiss at how good his cock felt gliding all over your folds, he slapped his tip on your clit and rubbed them together.

"God I can't wait..." He says, he grabs onto your hips, as you sit on the desk.

You look down at his cock while it starts to disappear into your sopping wet pussy. Each inch making you gasp and squirm.

"Fuck...Alhaitham, it's not going to all fit..." You hear him grunt, before slamming it all into you. "It has to...it all has to fit y/n, I need you to feel it." He says, as your mouth can't keep in any of the sounds it's making.

His thrusts are slow and calculated, his thumb rubs your sore, engorged clit, while his cock is feeling your walls.

You can't help but fall back as his thrusts get more desperate, shaking you along with the table; which you now lay on, your tits bouncing up and down with it.

"Tell me y/n, will you remember me every time you sit here? Will you remember my cock fucking your tight little hole, like this?" He says harshly, needing you to need him.

You can't even reply, as the only thing coming out of your mouth is his name as you clench around his thick cock.

His body drops down towards you, his arms holding himself up which now lay on both sides of your face, feeling his hair on your forehead.

He's grunting and moaning right into your hear, turning you on even more while his hard cock doesn't stop rutting into you.

"Y/n...fuck, please forgive me...I can't stop boss."

You continue to gasp at the feeling of his cock even more close to you now, as his lips find your neck once again and create more areas for you to hide the next morning.

"Y-Y/n... i'm so fucking close...l don't think I can-"

Alhaithams words find no finish, but he does; you can feel warm ropes of thick cum coat your walls.

You've already came on his cock so many times, but you finish again from the feeling of his release inside you. His breathe is heavy on your neck, his knees buck a few times while his cock still stuffs you, cum oozing out onto the table and the floor all the while.

The night ends with him licking all the cum off you, gently and so lovingly. Dressing you, kissing you softly as he fixes up your desk. Telling you how he's always yours, always there, always the one who will take care of you. Only him.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[thegoldencontracts]

Flustered Leech twins is so underrated in my opinion.

Jade doesn't really have much company. Especially when it comes to his interests. So imagine how shocked he is when someone actually seems to be interested. You don't think it's boring or something to put up with - learning about fungi genuinely interests you!

Or you offering to care for him while he's sick. Giving him your jacket when he's cold, or even making him meals. These sorts of things are more flustering for him than he'd care to admit. He'll deny it so insistently you can't help but give up, though. His face is red? No it isn't. He stuttered? He didn't, perhaps you just had something in your ears. He can't continue denying it? Well- er- Why don't we stop talking about this?

Floyd, on the other hand, is usually more honest with himself and others, but at the same time, he's not really used to receiving affection. When you're the one to squeeze him, or wrap and arm around his shoulder, it's so pleasant, yet- hard to handle. Why is it making his face heat up like this?

He's pretty defensive. He's not red, d-dude, shut up already! You're being weird, Shrimpy. As open as he is most of the time, bear in mind, this is the same guy who brings out the speech about him being just business partners with Azul whenever someone tries to insinuate they're friends. Matters is sentiment are- embarrassing for him, to say the least.

[chaotic-birds]

hi!! i saw you wanted to write fluff and i love your work! i was wondering if you could write a jasonxfem!reader on their wedding day, like getting ready and just being sweet and dopey.

(i tried to send this in earlier but it said it didn’t work so if you already got an ask like this is was from me 🙏🏼)

im so sorry about how late this is but tysm for sending something in! and ty for loving my work 🥺

TW reader has she/her pronouns, one rated r joke (tho its tame aha) | WC 1.5k | G fluff

this blog is 18+. minors do not interact. plz & ty!

masterlist

Jason is usually not one for superstitions, so you were surprised at how adamant he was about not seeing each other until the altar. Nevertheless, that didn’t stop him from designating Dick as his messenger.

“Dude, seriously? This is your seventh note to her,” Dick scoffs at the folded paper in his hand.

Jason looks at his brother through the mirror while fixing his tie for the tenth time.

“And there’ll be an eighth, so stop bitching and go give it to her.”

Dick grumbles, mumbling curses as he huffs out of the room.

“You know, you could just wait and tell her whatever it is in person,” Tim comments.

“And you could just mind your business,” Jason replies.

Jason notices Tim pursing his lips; he’s no doubt repressing his snarky comeback due to it being Jason’s big day.

The sound of the door opening makes Jason snap his head in that direction. Is Dick already back with your note?

Stephanie walks in, a big smile on her face.

“I thought wedding days were supposed to be filled with happiness. What’s up, grouch?” Stephanie questions.

Jason releases a big sigh and turns to face her.

With a pout, he answers, “My tie keeps looking weird.”

She laughs. “You really are nervous, huh?”

Stephanie comes to stand in front of him, undoing his tie.

“Can you blame me? Things don’t exactly go well for us, and I need this day to go well.”

“Is that why there’s a gun in your jacket?” Damian pipes in.

Jason shrugs. He’d feel naked without it.

Stephanie flattens the tie against his chest then taps him to confirm she’s done. Jason turns to the mirror again, overanalyzing the article of clothing. It still doesn’t feel right, but he guesses it never will.

“Thanks,” Jason mutters.

Dick walks back into the room, holding up a small piece of paper.

Jason eagerly meets him halfway and snatches the item from his hand.

You’re unbelievable, Jay. Ditching is not an option! I’ll see you soon xoxo (:

Jason grins at your scribbling. He can tell you’re in a rush and wonders if you’re as nervous as him.

There’s less than an hour to go, and he can’t tell if time is moving too fast or too slow. He just knows he’s ready to say I do.

There was a time where Jason believed a day like this would just be a fantasy. He never thought he’d wear a ring on his left hand. Never thought he’d find a home in a person.

But he’s so glad he did.

Jason stares at you with a smile so large it makes his cheeks hurt. However, he feels it can’t be helped. He’s buzzing with overwhelming joy.

Though, despite that, there’s the ever-present dark cloud above his head, threatening to shower him with self-deprecating thoughts. Thoughts that he wishes he could overcome, but somehow they keep sprouting. The most consistent out of them all is that he’s not deserving of—

“Jay?”

He turns his face and his gaze finds yours. They’re analyzing his features.

“What’s going on up there?” you whisper, sitting at their table at the front of the room. Everyone around them is eating.

It’s then he realizes his smile has faded, leaving behind a dejected expression.

You raise a hand to rub at one of his temples, not wanting to mess up his hair.

“Sorry,” he sighs. His eyes close briefly. When he opens them, you’re still staring at him.

“I love you,” he blurts. “I love you so much.”

You grin widely, hand dropping to grab his.

“I know.” You steal a kiss and squeeze his hand.

Jason opens his mouth to ask if you love him but stops. Out of all the places, all the events, this one should be a clear beacon of how much you love him.

As if reading his thoughts, you lean in and hug him.

It takes everything in him not to pull you into his lap and cuddle you like a stuffed animal.

“You’re the best man I know,” you say close to his ear. “You’re caring, thoughtful, funny, a little bit of a smartass,” you pause to chuckle, “and deserving.”

You pull away but keep a hand on his shoulder blade.

“And not only do I love you, but so does everyone in this room,” you continue. “I couldn’t have married a better man. You’re mine, Jason Todd. You know that?”

Jason hates crying. He hates it even more when it happens in public. But for fucks sake, he can’t stop the two tears that glide down his cheeks.

You kiss one and wipe the other.

“There’s darkness in us all, but focus on the light. Focus on us.”

Jason nods. His heart is beating rapidly from your sweet words.

“I was only supposed to cry at the altar,” he mutters, trying to bring some humor—some light—back into the atmosphere.

You smile. He can tell you’re recalling his tears as he watched you descend the aisle.

“Guess it means you’re a bigger crybaby than me,” you tease. Sure, you’ve shed a tear or fifteen, but not as much as Jason.

“We’ll see about that,” he huffs but there’s a smile on his lips. “The night’s not over.”

“No, it is not, little bro,” a voice joins the conversation as a hand slaps down on Jason’s other shoulder roughly.

Dick grins down at Jason. There’s something in it that’s wicked.

Dick turns, retrieves the microphone from the DJ booth, then walks back. The music lowers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, it’s time to start the fun,” Dick announces into the mic.

The room quiets as people’s attention shifts.

“I’d like to congratulate the lovely couple and share a few words,” he pauses to glance at Jason. “And you bet your zombie ass, I’ll be telling embarrassing stories too.”

Jason narrows his eyes at Dick, but one simple kiss from you on his cheek has him wilting in his chair.

He’s so done for.

Jason is perfectly content watching you on the dance floor from afar. But oh, that won’t do.

From being tossed from Stephanie to Dick, to Duke, to even Damian, he’s had his fair share of time away from his chair. A chair that his feet desperately miss.

“Woah, hey there, handsome,” you smile when you catch him. He sends Cass a glare as he stumbles after she made him spin.

“How are you still standing?” he groans, his hands finding their rightful place on your waist.

You shrug. “I’m surprised you’ve been dancing for so long.”

“I didn’t really have a choice,” he grumbles.

He watches you peep over his shoulder and giggle–no doubt seeing his family laugh.

Jason loves your giggles.

“I’m glad you didn’t. I liked watching you shake your little hips,” you joke and wiggle him as if to reenact his moves.

Jason groans louder and grips your waist tighter.

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” he almost whines.

You pull him closer, whispering, “I rather be under you.”

Jason stops breathing for a moment. A bunch of thoughts fill his head, none of which are appropriate for a public setting.

You pull away, sending him a wink before scurrying off to who knows where. Jason watches you go. He wants to go after you, but truthfully, it’s better if he doesn’t. Or else, he might just find a secluded spot and turn his thoughts into reality.

Jason lets out a deep sigh and runs his fingers through his hair.

“Already can’t keep up?”

Jason turns to see Bruce at his side, eyeing you as you stop at your friends’ table. You throw your head back, laughing loudly as if no one can ruin your mood. You catch Bruce’s stare and smile sweetly—as if you didn’t just whisper something vulgar to Jason a second ago.

Bruce laughs softly, then directs his focus on Jason. He gives him a pat on the back like he’s done so many times before.

“I’m happy for you,” he says. “You’ve done well for yourself, son.”

Bruce gives Jason a genuine, big smile. It’s not one he sees much from him.

Jason nods. He may still have unresolved issues with the man, but there’s no mistaking the care and pride in his eyes.

“Thanks,” Jason says. He would say more, but he’s never been much of a talker… well, a sappy talker.

Bruce understands and gives him one more pat before he walks back to his table.

Jason takes one long sweep across the room. He takes in the pretty decorations and the smiling faces. He sees people who have been by his side through rough times and, now, one of his happiest.

His eyes land on you last.

You’re so beautiful that his heart churns.

Jason can feel the dark cloud forming above his head. He can hear the faint sound of thunder.

He shakes his head.

No.

Not today.

He won’t stand in the storm. He won’t be showered in doubt. If he were to be showered, he wanted it to be with your love.

Ignoring the thunder and drizzle, he moves away from the storm and makes a beeline for you.

Here, with his hand around your waist, there is sunshine and chirping birds. Here, there is happiness.

Here, there is love.

©️chaotic-birds // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

Dividers by @strangergraphics (ty!)

[toournextadventure]

everyone but her pt.42

Summary: While Wednesday is busy worrying about you, an unwelcome guests shows their face at the Addams Mansion. Wednesday is starting to wish you would lose your morals again.

Word Count: 7.6k Warnings: swearing, mentioned child abuse, racism against Outcasts, smut at the end (18+) Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (Masterlist)

The Addams Mansion was louder than usual with its new guests. Much to her surprise, Wednesday almost found it comforting. If you had asked her even just two years ago if she would have enjoyed the newfound sounds in the mansion, she would have thought the notion preposterous. Absurd even. Of course she wouldn’t have enjoyed the sounds, the mansion was her home. It was a sacred place that should be left untouched.

However, with your family around… at least they treated the old home as it deserved.

Even the youngest were respectful of the knick-knacks and artefacts around the mansion. They had only needed to be told once, and everything settled again. Sure, they would point out the ones they liked, but their hands stayed far away. Rooms that were off-limits to guests remained closed, and everyone was respectful of the… unusual habits of the Addams family.

The only one that remained unusual was you.

If Wednesday was being honest with herself, she was rather concerned about you. She hadn’t heard you say much after that night. By all accounts, you were more similar to Lurch in your communication; doing little more than grunting in acknowledgement of whatever was being said. You hadn’t even talked to Weems, who had shown up not even a day after the event to check on everyone. It was rather disturbing. And not in a good way.

At least there was an upside to the whole situation. Grandmama Addams had healed your arm with little more than a light scar over the skin. It was clearly a burn; that was impossible to erase. But there had been no need to go into a medical centre like the original EMT had mentioned. An Addams knew tricks no normie could comprehend.

There was nothing comfortable about talking about feelings, Wednesday knew all about that. She had trouble talking about her own, and you certainly felt the same. It didn’t take a genius to know that. But she wished you would talk with her. Share your thoughts, what you were feeling at the moment. Or at the very least what you were thinking for the past few weeks, seeing as you still had yet to tell her how you had known the house was going to catch fire.

“Would you pass the sugar, dear?” Mother asked you.

You grumbled and nodded once before pushing it over with your scarred hand. It was a stiff movement, and your brows moved ever so slightly at the effort. So, Wednesday thought, you weren’t entirely healed. You made no other indication of your discomfort and turned the page of your book.

“Daniel seemed quite interested in the atrium,” Mother continued. You hummed for her to continue. “He’s asked numerous times about specific plants.”

You still said nothing in return.

Mother looked at Wednesday over the lip of her teacup. If you wouldn’t even answer her small talk, how would they ever get you to speak? Even if you were having a small spat with Wednesday, you would always talk with Mother. Yet now, she was talking of your brother, and you wouldn’t even answer? It was borderline rude.

You were never rude to Mother.

“There you all are,” Weems said as she entered the reading room. “Everyone was a bit too quiet.”

“You’re welcome to join us,” Mother said with a smile.

She did just that. Even you looked up from your book for just long enough to watch Weems sit down with her own cup of tea. It seemed everyone was indulging in caffeine. Everyone except for you, that was. You had opted for nothing more than a glass of water that sat untouched on the small side table.

Everyone resumed their activities; Mother and Weems were talking, and you were reading. Wednesday had her own book in her lap, but the words eluded her. How could she focus on a book when she was so concerned about you? How could you focus on your book? Were you not going absolutely mad?

She needed you to be okay. There was very little she could do to help, but she needed you to be okay. Perhaps you wouldn’t talk with her, but that wouldn’t be the end of the world, would it? No, she could survive you not talking about your worries with her, as long as you allowed her to attempt to help.

A word of advice from Yoko appeared in her head. She looked over at you and watched you for a moment. There was very little emotion on your face, but she noticed you blinking a little longer than normal every time your burned hand turned the page.

She gave herself no time to doubt herself before reaching over and grabbing your good hand. It stiffened, but when she linked her fingers with yours, you quickly relaxed. Before she looked back down at her book, she noticed the slightest pull at the corner of your mouth.

Good. That was progress.

Wednesday was acutely aware of Mother and Weems’ hesitation before continuing their conversation. It gave her an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach to know they were watching you both. Showing outward displays of affection was becoming less agonising, but there was something unsettling about knowing her mother and your mother figure were watching.

The prickling spiders were starting to crawl across her skin when something knocked on the front door. You didn’t look up, but Mother and Weems shared a look before Weems stood up from her chair.

“Shall I?” She asked even though she had already started walking toward the front door.

“Thank you,” Mother said with a small smile.

No one else paid any attention to what was happening. Everyone simply went back to what they were doing. What would it matter anyway? You were all aware that people only came to the Addams Mansion either based on a dare or had been invited.

“I don’t believe it’s wise for you to be here.”

Your attention was captured by Weems’ words. Wednesday would admit hers were too. There was a certain tone to the words, something that she didn’t think she had heard before. No, that wasn’t true, she had heard that warning tone before.

At Nevermore immediately after Nicky had died.

Wednesday’s mind was running rampant when you pulled your hand away from hers. There was almost no time for her to grab it again before you stood up. Mother sent a concerned look her way. It was a lucky thing Wednesday hadn’t had any tea, or she would have spilled it when she stood up.

Your body stiffened when you looked out the front door.

“I was hoping you would be here.”

That voice sent a shiver down every inch of Wednesday’s skin. By the slight shake in your hand, you felt the same. The closer she got, the more nervous she was. It was a complicated feeling for her. Very few things, and even fewer people, made her feel that way. She didn’t like it.

There was something comparable between your mother and hers. They both held themselves with confidence; something that you appeared to lack until you were in your mother’s presence again. However, there was a rather large difference between the two women.

Your mother always looked like she was out for blood.

“I was hoping to talk with you about something,” your mother said directly to you.

“I don’t believe that would-”

“-Alone,” she interrupted Weems with a venomous smile.

Very few people spoke to Weems in such a way, apparent by the way everyone stiffened at the harshness of the word. But that very reality was what seemed to get you out of whatever stupor you had drowned in. Behind you, your wings puffed up enough to make themselves known as you looked at Weems.

“I’ve got it,” you said in a soft yet confident voice. It was certainly a surprise to Wednesday, who had assumed you would sound weak after a large amount of silence.

Weems looked at you for another moment more. “Morticia and I will be in the study,” she finally said.

“As I said,” your mother said with the same sickening smile, “this is private.”

“Anything involving me involves Wednesday,” you said.

You and your mother stared at each other silently, and Wednesday felt like she was intruding on something. There was a history with you two that she knew very little about, but she knew enough. To stand there, watching your silent battle with nothing to say, was torture.

“Of course it does,” your mother finally said. She looked inside the mansion for a moment. “Won’t you be a dear and invite me in?”

“No.” You straightened back up and crossed your arms over your chest. “Say your piece and leave.”

Your mother opened her mouth to argue - she had stunning teeth, Wednesday noted - but quickly closed it once seeing the look on your face. Or rather, the lack of a look. Fear was the predominant look in your eyes when your parents were involved, but this? There was no reaction. You simply existed in her presence.

It was a wonderful look on you.

“Very well,” your mother finally said with a sigh. “I would like you to attend an event with me this weekend.”

“No,” you said quickly.

Your mother stood tall. “You will hear me out, Y/N.”

Fear flashed behind your eyes at the use of your full name.

“It’s a charity gala,” she continued. “For those with your…” she gestured vaguely between both you and Wednesday, “affliction.”

“We’re Outcasts,” you said, “not lepers.”

“Semantics, dear,” she said with a dismissive wave.

At that, you reached out and grabbed Wednesday’s hand. Hard. An ache spread through the bones of her hand as they were squeezed together unnaturally. The skin on your hand was tough, feeling closer to leather than skin. Truly a fascinating thing.

She squeezed your hand back to the best of her ability.

“After all the shit you’ve done, you want me to go with you to a gala?” You asked. “Just to make you look good?”

There was a red tint to your cheeks. Wednesday could hear all the words you weren’t saying. You killed my brother. You had me arrested. You abandoned me. Though she didn’t wish for a fight, she did wish for you to finally speak your mind. Let her know the hurt she had caused you all these years.

You didn’t continue.

“Your father is away, so you wouldn’t have to concern yourself with the restraining order,” your mother continued as if you were being nothing more than a petulant child.

“You’re not listening,” you said. “I’m not going.”

The tone underlying your words was all Wednesday needed to hear to know your next move. Your grip had loosened enough to ease the ache in her hand, but it stayed firm. Though she wouldn’t blame you, she knew you were done with the conversation. Nothing good could come from continuing to talk with your mother.

You turned around and started to pull Wednesday along with you.

“I heard about the fire,” your mother called after you.

You froze.

“Entire house burned to ash,” she continued. “A shame.” Your chest was heaving. “No longer having a home to call their own.”

The warmth of your hand in hers quickly disappeared as you turned on your heel. Wednesday’s feet stayed rooted to the spot even as she watched you walk up to your mother and stand over her. For the first time, she realised you were a decent amount taller than your mother. You could properly look down on her as she had no doubt you always wished you could.

In the background, the children could be heard playing in an unknown room.

“Don’t pretend you care,” you said quietly. Harshly.

“Oh darling,” your mother said with a smile that didn’t match her tone, “I couldn’t care less.”

“Then don’t talk about them.”

“I just assumed, perhaps wrongfully, that you would wish for them to have a home again,” she continued. The look in her eye was similar to yours. “A gift, if you will.”

You looked down at your mother silently. Oh, how Wednesday wished she could see the look on your face. She so very much adored when you were angry. There was a fire behind your eyes that lit something within her.

Then she started to think about the implications of your mother’s words. Would you allow her to offer such a thing? The reminder of your debt would follow you for the rest of your life. After all, you were still feeling indebted to her parents for the pendant you constantly wore around your neck. But with a home? She couldn’t even imagine the feelings it would invoke within you.

“Shall I continue?” Your mother asked.

You hesitated. Then gave a single, slow nod.

“If you accompany me to the gala, we will pay for the restoration of your little,” she hesitated, “family.” There was almost a sneer on her face, if Wednesday was reading her correctly.

“Are you blackmailing me?” You asked.

“Oh dear,” she laughed, “I’m not that dense.” Your jaw clenched. “It’s an incentive. A rather generous one.”

Your mother then stayed silent. A tactic, no doubt. It would give you time to consider her offer. Even Wednesday would admit it was a tempting offer. She and her parents had offered your family the same thing knowing they didn’t have the means to rebuild quickly on their own. It had been a quick rejection.

When it came to your mother, however…

“You’ll pay for the entirety of a new house,” you confirmed.

Your mother nodded in response. “Large enough for them all, in fact.”

“With the barn and stables.”

“Of course.”

“And nothing will ever need to be repaid?”

“It will be an act of charity.”

“And I can get that in writing?” You asked.

Oh. Oh, Wednesday could see the gears turning in your head. Once again, as she so often found herself doing, she thought back to those years she had believed you to be daft. Oblivious would perhaps have been the better word for it. Acting as if you were unaware of everything going on around you. On the rare occasion, even going so far as to act unaware of even the most basic aspects of life.

She used to believe you. After all, you were rather adept at playing off your intelligence. If she hadn’t been so tragically enamoured with you, life would have become far different than it currently was. She wouldn’t have had the pleasure of calling you hers. 

However, she knew better. She could see the ideas forming behind your eyes. No, they weren’t simply ideas, they were full-fledged plans. Wednesday desperately wished to have the ability to read your mind. What plan were you meticulously concocting?

“You may have it in writing,” your mother finally said. “I’ll draft it when I get home.”

“Oh no,” you said quickly, “I wouldn’t wish to trouble you.”

Finally, for the first time since your mother had appeared at the front door, you turned and looked at Wednesday. There was a fire in your eyes reminiscent of the burning house she had been forced to watch you run into. It was thrilling.

It was terrifying.

“Would you call Señor Moreno?” You asked with a smile that made you look just like your mother. “Mrs. Smith would like to draft an agreement.”

—---

Your discomfort was clear, but Wednesday rather enjoyed you in your current state. There had been few times she had seen you dressed well, fewer times since it had been a happy occasion. This was neither happy nor unhappy, so she took it as a positive. You looked rather stunning, aside from your wings resting uncomfortably underneath your clothes.

Not for the first time, her chest ached when you removed your hand from hers.

Listening to your mother fill you in on who was who was not on Wednesday’s to-do list. No, she didn’t truly care who these people were. What she truly cared about was the feel of your warmth beside her, enveloping her in something she had learned to crave. Something she could only receive from you.

“Come on,” you said softly, far closer than Wednesday had believed. It was unsettling.

She loved when you were unsettling.

With her arm looped through yours, she walked with you around the overly crowded room. A ballroom of sorts, she supposed, not too unlike the one in her own house. The difference was this one was bright and filled with straight-laced professionals. Her house was more often than not filled with criminals and unsightly characters for miles to come.

This was a far more concerning environment.

Every beat of Wednesday’s heart grew stronger the longer she watched you in what would have been your natural habitat. Try as you might to deny it, you were rather skilled at talking up those that could owe you favours. For example, the senator’s wife. Though Wednesday despised it, you had her laughing and getting closer the entire conversation.

You were lucky Wednesday had promised to behave.

She was lucky you had promised to behave.

The longer she stayed by your side throughout the evening, the more she realised there was a side to you she rarely if ever got to see. The part of you that could be serious and prepared for business. It was fascinating to watch your expressions and tone match whoever you were talking with. Almost like a mimic, if she had to put a word to it.

Sometimes, if your mother was around, she noticed the most subtle accent to your words. You sounded just like her.

She would never tell you.

“This is Wednesday Addams.”

Your voice pulled Wednesday back into the moment. There was a man in front of you both that she didn’t care to know. With his horrific toupee and pathetic mustache, she mentally placed him as a wannabe politician. His black tuxedo was slightly dishevelled around the collar, and his buttons were off by one. How peculiar.

“Addams, you say?” He asked with a voice that betrayed him more than the pipe hanging out of his mouth. “I believe I know of your father.”

“How so?” She asked even though she had no interest in hearing his answer.

“We met at a ball many years ago, if my recollection is correct,” he said. A puff of smoke left his mouth. “He’s doing well, I presume?”

“Quite,” she said shortly. Perhaps if she made it clear she wasn’t interested in small talk, he would leave her be.

No such luck.

“Perhaps he would appreciate an invitation to our next ball,” the man said. “He can get proper connections in place for when you take over.”

Your hand on the small of Wednesday’s back twitched. Nothing serious, a minuscule movement. It was enough. Out of the corner of your eye, she saw the slight frown on your face. Nothing overtly noticeable. Not that it would have mattered, the man you were both talking to couldn’t be bothered enough to notice the change.

“The Addamses are old money,” you chimed in, “there’s no need to take over.”

“Of course, of course,” he mumbled. A puff of smoke escaped from between his lips. “In that case, you must take that advice,” he said as he gestured toward you with his head. “You’ll need the good graces.”

Your hand twitched again.

“I’m not sure I understand,” you said with a slight tilt of your head.

“When you take over your father’s company,” he explained. Your nails dug into Wednesday’s back. “After dear Nicholas passed - rest his soul - you became the beneficiary of the company.” He chuckled. “Perhaps they were keeping it a surprise until you came of proper age.” A wink. “Don’t let them know I told you.”

You pulled your hand away from her back. Quickly. You could not have made it any more obvious that you were deliberately putting space between yourself and everyone else. If you could have turned and ran, Wednesday was convinced you would have.

She couldn’t begin to imagine the things running through your mind. Not only had he mentioned Nicky - which she had learned would always be a sore spot no matter how much time had passed - but he had also told you something you undoubtedly had never wished to know. You looked like you had grabbed an electric wire and hadn’t let go.

“Are you alright?” The man asked in a tone that indicated he couldn’t have cared less what your answer was. Wednesday could appreciate the indifference.

“Quite,” you said quickly. “Just thinking.”

“Ah, of course, I could tell,” he said with a nod, “I’ve seen that face before.” Another puff of his pipe. “You look just like your father.”

That.

That was the final straw.

Wednesday could practically hear your sanity break at that simple sentence. Any semblance of control you had maintained throughout the evening vanished. Before, you had acted like you had been shot by the words. You would close off, become solemn in the wake of the conversation. Being told those words almost hurt you more than losing your brother.

But not this time. No, now you were furious. If you clenched your jaw any tighter, Wednesday was convinced the bones would have shattered. Her eyes fell to your hands before you managed to shove them into your pockets. They were balled into fists.

She wondered if it pained your superficially healed burns.

“I believe I need a drink,” you choked out. “If you’ll excuse me.” You didn’t wait for an answer before walking off where Wednesday could no longer see you.

She was mortified.

How dare you leave her with people that, not only did she not know, but she didn’t care about? She had only agreed to accompany you because it would be a sleight against your mother. Not once had she agreed to be left alone with these people. Did you not know that she was not going to be good for your image? If anything, she would damage it more than it already was.

“I hope our dear Y/N is alright.”

She knew better. Wednesday really, truly knew better. But she couldn’t help herself. With a small exhale, she turned to face your mother. A polite smile was on her face and she looked rather nice, if Wednesday wished to say something positive about the woman. Not that she deserved it, but that wasn’t necessarily important.

You had her nose.

“Oh she’s splendid,” the man said, “just stewing on some thoughts. Right, Miss Addams?” He winked at Wednesday.

She felt the rare twinge of disgust in her stomach.

“I presumed,” your mother said. “Would you mind if I stole Miss Addams from you?”

“Not at all,” he said. He bowed his head, let out a puff of smoke, and turned around to start a conversation with whatever unlucky soul happened to be nearest him.

“Walk with me,” your mother commanded.

Silence was Wednesday’s best friend as she followed the older woman. She would admit, she had never believed she would find herself in this situation. Walking side by side with your mother - not the woman who raised you, but who brought you to life. It had seemed like a far-fetched dream, if not a full-blown nightmare.

She was ashamed to admit that she was… uncertain of how to act.

“You’re a rather brave young thing,” your mother said as she continued to meander through the party, waving to people when she saw fit. “Has our darling Y/N ever told you that?”

“I’m aware of my own strengths,” Wednesday answered. She reconsidered for a moment. “Yes she has.”

“Then we raised her properly.”

Wednesday opted to stay silent. It had only been a few moments of conversation, but she could fully understand why you felt a certain way about your parents. Was she aware of the ridiculous things she was saying? Did she truly believe that they had raised you? A foolish notion at best.

It was beyond clear that your true family had raised you. If she extended the definition of the word, Weems had even raised you more than the woman she was walking beside. You even called Weems a mother, which was evidence enough. Wednesday wasn’t one to get overly emotional, but she knew the difference between what your family had done to raise you and what your mother had done. The difference was glaringly obvious.

While you hadn’t told Wednesday much about your upbringing, she knew enough. Your mother had never been there when you cried. She hadn’t helped you with your homework, or encouraged your hobbies. It would be of no surprise to anyone if she didn’t know of your passion for climbing or boxing. She had left you to cope alone after not only a crippling car accident, but the figurative and, eventually literal, loss of your brother.

No, they hadn’t raised you, and even someone as emotionally stunted as Wednesday was painfully aware of it.

“I’m sure she’s told you rather horrid things about Marcus and myself,” your mother said, coaxing Wednesday out of her thoughts. “But everything we did was for her own good.”

Wednesday understood the anger you harboured for them. She herself was feeling that same anger well up within her chest. Not quite threatening to burst forward, but making itself known. Subtle, creeping into her veins slowly, like waves gently breaking on the shore. All it would take was one wrong move and those waves would turn violent.

“I believe you truly think so,” was all she said.

“Everyone she loves gets hurt,” your mother said. She stopped in her tracks and turned slowly to face Wednesday. “Or dies.”

“That’s improbable at best,” she said.

“You’d be wise to leave before you fall victim to that curse of hers.”

Something cold and damp settled into the bottom of Wednesday’s heart. It was… difficult to describe. Was your mother warning her, or threatening? She was unsure. The words themself were threatening, but her tone… she hadn’t prepared to hear that tone from such a woman. Not after what she had come to know about her.

“Not everything you hear can be taken as truth, love,” your mother said softly, far too soft for her own words. She was ignoring Wednesday’s silence. Or simply not caring.  “From what I’ve read about you, you know that painfully well.”

Wednesday turned to silence once again. She had nothing to say, which was a rather unusual experience. So far, she couldn’t properly think of a time she had been left without words. Or, quite frankly, even any thoughts. Skepticism was her friend, and your mother would not break her of such habits.

“There’s two sides to every story,” your mother continued. She looked out toward the crowd of people, and Wednesday followed suit. “This curse prevailed long before Nicholas.”

You had never told Wednesday of any incidents before Nicky. Though, if your mother knew about it, then perhaps you didn’t remember. Or you weren’t even aware in the first place. It indicated something that she wasn’t quite sure how to feel about.

Something that mixed together with everything she had seen as of late.

“We should get together one evening,” your mother said as she looked back at Wednesday. “Doubtless you have questions.”

She did. As much as she hated to admit it, even to herself, she had numerous questions that continued to pile up with each second that ticked by. With how much your mother hated Outcasts, was her implication of a curse figurative or literal? If literal, were you truly cursed? Who had done it? At the very least, who had been injured or killed when you were too young to even remember?

Would you hate her if she agreed? There had been a few times you had mentioned, in passing of course, about regretting knowing little about your childhood. Whether from young age or potential trauma, you remembered less than you liked. If she had a chance to find those things out for you, would you be appreciative? Or would you be upset with her for talking with your mother so casually?

Would you hate her?

Her mind was running through every scenario possible. She wanted to tell your mother something; of what, she wasn’t quite sure. Wednesday’s lips parted in an effort to buy herself some more time when someone’s arm brushed against her shoulder. Just the lightest of touches, otherwise unnoticeable. It had been quite a while since she had last felt that electric shock spiderwebbing across her skin.

This was different.

Fire raced through her veins, creating an inferno in her chest that she desperately wished to smother. She could taste the smoke rising up from her lungs, scorching the back of her throat before settling into little more than a tickle. When her eyes opened, she saw vague shapes of the forest.

She was getting rather tired of the forest.

The birds were silent, and even the bugs had ceased to make their high-pitched calls. It was as silent as the grave. After witnessing the fire, this very setting rested heavy in her stomach. The only saving grace was the two familiar figures she saw standing underneath one of the outlines of a tree.

When they turned to face her, all comfort fled. Their faces were nothing less than mangled. Blood fell freely down their chins to the already-soaked dirt below their feet. Wednesday wanted to cry, to scream, to warn them of the creature looming behind them, but she couldn’t. She was silent.

Just like you on that fated night.

She blinked once. When her eyes opened again, the forest was gone, instead replaced by a house that she could recognise even from her single visit. Wednesday had never been downstairs in your parents house, instead only exploring a few rooms upstairs when she came with you, but she recognised the tile. The entire building smelled like you, in some odd way.

The dining table was huge, accentuated by the measly five plates that sat around the perimeter of the stunning wood. Only five. Two seats were empty, and two more were filled with sights that Wednesday didn’t think she could have imagined even in her most demented nightmares. In the fifth seat, Wednesday saw the near-perfect reflection of herself.

She had never imagined what her corpse would look like.

“I said don’t touch her.”

Your voice. That was your voice, which meant she was out of her vision. Her throat ached like she had been screaming for years. There was a dull throbbing ache in her stomach where one of the wounds on her corpse had been. But your arms were around her, holding her close.

The ache would subside.

“It might be wise to seek medical attention,” your mother said.

“This happened while she was with you,” you practically spat. Wednesday still hadn’t opened her eyes, but she could imagine the fury on your face. “I can be forgiven for not taking your advice.”

“I’d advise you not to make a scene, dear.”

Your mother’s tone left Wednesday feeling cold. Her own mother had never talked to her in such a way, even out of fear. It wasn’t a way a parent should ever talk to their child. Yet, your mother did it shamelessly in front of an entire crowd of people that had no doubt found their way around the three of you.

Her eyes opened quickly. Far too quickly, the lights from the room hammered nails into her brain. But all the pain and discomfort faded away when she met your soft eyes looking down at her in concern. You were rather beautiful, and just the thought brought a smile to her lips.

A smile?

Perhaps she had hit her head on the way down.

“Can you stand?” You asked softly.

Wednesday nodded once.

You kept your hands on her as you helped her to her feet. The floor felt a bit uneven at first, but with your arm wrapped securely around her waist, she felt no concern. Her trust in you was unwavering. You wouldn’t let her fall.

“You should take her somewhere quiet,” your mother said, against everyone’s better judgement. “It will help.”

You shot her a look, but otherwise stayed silent as you guided Wednesday through the crowd. Everyone parted, looking away in some form of almost-shame. They didn’t truly care. Elites cared for little outside of their own interests. And at that moment, getting the gossip firsthand was in their best interest.

There was no telling where exactly you were taking her. She didn’t care to know. If you were taking her somewhere, it would be safe. You had never intentionally led her into harm, and she knew you never would. You cared too much, and though it often got you in trouble, she loved it about you.

…

She had definitely hit her head.

When you opened the door and led her inside the darkened room, she didn’t initially check her surroundings. Wednesday was no fool, she would know if something was unsafe. But when you flipped the switch and illuminated the space, she was overcome with… confusion.

“The coat closet?” She asked, turning quickly to face you.

You were already pacing back and forth in the small - well, small for a room, rather large for a coat closet - space. Each step was harsh, purposeful. Behind you, your hands were clasped terribly tight, as if you were trying to prevent yourself from doing something foolish.

Perhaps you were.

“Did she hurt you?” You asked without looking.

“No,” Wednesday said softly.

You scoffed. “Probably the only thing she didn’t do.” The carpet was becoming worn into a path from your feet. “We never should’ve come to this stupid party.”

There were a few things Wednesday could have said, but she remained silent. It wasn’t often you would find yourself pacing, let alone in a closet. On those rare occasions, she had learned it best to stay quiet. Once you had gotten your thoughts and emotions out, you were lighter and could move on.

“I can’t do this,” you continued without prompting. “I don’t want to do this.” A turn on your heels. “I didn’t even want their name, let alone their fucking company.” The muscles in your arms tensed. “And apparently everyone is preparing for it. What happens when they find out I’m a fucking Outcast?” You readjusted your jaw. “He told me we shouldn’t have come.”

Wednesday perked up.

“Who told you?”

There was no sudden freeze of your movements, as was usual. No, your pace slowed until coming to a graceful stop. Each breath you took was calculated, steady. Strange. She had seen enough of your panics to know this was different. Wrong somehow.

“No one,” you said without looking at her. “Just… just a thought.” You turned slowly. “The voice in my head.”

“Your conscience?” She clarified.

You didn’t answer.

Wednesday didn’t like when you didn’t answer her. It left a gross feeling she couldn’t quite describe. The best description she could conjure was mud sitting at the bottom of her stomach, weighing her down. She didn’t like the feeling. It made her… well, almost sad.

It was possible you noticed her discomfort because, almost instantly, you walked over to where she was standing. Her entire body relaxed - for the first time that night - when your hands cupped her cheeks. There was something pleasant about your touch that never failed to ease any negative feelings trapped within her.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You asked in a far softer voice. It was gentle and comforting.

She placed her hands on top of yours and nodded once.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” you continued. “We should’ve just had a nice night at home.”

Wednesday didn’t disagree. There were many more things she would have preferred to do than come to some gala that no one seemed to care about. You had come under the premise of a gala for Outcasts, but she felt it was a farce. None of those people cared about Outcasts, and they never would. It would have been a much better use of both of your time to do something else, something far more enjoyable.

An idea formed in her mind and she quickly looked up to meet your eyes.

“We can still have a nice night,” she said slowly.

“Wednesday,” you said with a tilt of your head. “You fainted and I’m plotting the death of my mother. You’d have to come up with something pretty… uh…”

Your voice trailed off once she guided your hands down her neck. There was almost a humorous joy to the way you went slack jawed at any indication of activities less than professional. And when she continued, fighting a shiver as your fingers brushed the side of her clothed breasts, you stared with wide eyes until your hands rested on her waist.

“Wednesday,” you whispered. Her name always slid off your tongue with a certain grace that she couldn’t find anywhere else.

“You need a distraction,” she said, “as do I.”

“Please don’t feel like you have to-”

“-I would like to,” she said quickly. 

She knew where your mind was going and, in any other situation, she would have agreed. You had both agreed long ago that this wasn’t something frivolous; it meant far too much to the both of you. It shouldn’t be used for inappropriate reasons and, under normal circumstances, this would be an inappropriate reason.

Even though it was surprising to her as well, she genuinely wanted this.

“We’re in a coat closet,” you said with a slight squeeze of your hands. It felt nice.

“I don’t believe it would be our most unusual interaction,” she said with the slightest tilt of her head.

You bit back a laugh. It was a beautiful sound. “Please don’t call it an interaction, it sounds… dirty.”

She felt herself moving backwards. Whether you were guiding her or she was leading, she couldn’t tell. All she could focus on was your fingers rubbing light circles on her hips and your face getting closer to hers. If she simply leaned up on her toes, she could kiss you.

“I can call it intercourse instead,” she offered.

The both of you stopped when her back pressed against the wall.

“I think that’s worse,” you said, your breath fanning across her lips.

She waited for the question.

“Can I kiss you?”

A rhetorical question at that point, you knew the answer. You had always known the answer. Wednesday reached forward to wrap her arms around your neck and pulled you down into a kiss. It was soft and clumsy. After all this time, you were still clumsy for the first few kisses. Before you, she would have found it ridiculous.

Now, she enjoyed it.

Outside the door, the sounds of footsteps on the tile came and went. It didn’t stop either one of you, quite the contrary, it made the situation all the more thrilling. Wednesday knew the joy you would find in it; she could practically hear your words. Two Outcasts fucking around their personal belongings? Sexy.

Her breath hitched lightly when you slipped your hands underneath her dress. It wasn’t salacious; it was rather decent, if she was being honest. You didn’t hike her dress up over her hips and take her right then and there. Rather, you kept her covered, the only indication of something going on being your hands underneath the fabric.

“I’m sorry, mi vida,” you said softly against her skin as you pressed kisses across her jaw. “This will have to be quick unless you want to get caught.”

Wednesday was never a fan of what you and Enid - and clearly the rest of the world - called “quickies.” She was so selective of when and where she was willing to have sex that the thought had never appealed to her. Why dedicate such a short amount of time to something that required much longer? How was it enjoyable? Or even tolerable?

But, as she had noted throughout the night, she wasn’t particularly picky at that moment.

She nodded quickly. More footsteps could be heard outside the door. You were correct; she didn’t wish to be caught. The thrill was arousing, yes, but if it actually happened? There was no doubt in her mind that, though she wouldn’t care about their opinions, she would be mortified.

Your teeth pressed lightly against the pulse point of her neck as you smiled. If Wednesday stretched her neck just a little further, perhaps she could entice you to bite. There was something delectable about the feel of your teeth on her skin. As if you could read her mind, you lightly nipped at her collarbone.

It was a good thing you hadn’t completely enraptured her, or she would have made a surprised noise when you hoisted her up from the ground. Your hands held her by the back of her thighs until you pressed closer, leaving her trapped securely between your body and the wall.

Oh, she rather liked that.

Your unscarred hand moved, sliding softly against her inner thigh before brushing against her underwear. Her body shivered at the slightest of touches. It was humiliating. What was more humiliating was the smile on your face that she desperately wished would vanish.

“You’re already wet,” you noted.

She could kill you.

“The stoic Wednesday Addams is wet,” you said. Your fingers slipped underneath the flimsy fabric and she had to bite her tongue. “From a little makeout session in a coat closet.”

Out of all the times you could be condescending, you had chosen the worst moment. You chose the moment she was already going out of her comfort zone, but also, quite frankly, desperate. She finally understood the pleasure in quickies; it gave less time for words.

Wednesday would have told you to shut up right then and there. She would have stopped you simply out of spite. But her chance was ruined when you slipped two fingers into her with ease. Her head fell back against the wall as those fingers moved at a dangerously quick pace.

She wouldn’t have to wait long to finish. It was truly disgraceful how worked up she was. Had you known? Because she hadn’t. Wednesday had never anticipated ever being so close to a release with such little time. Perhaps it was you. You and your deceptively soft kisses on her neck. You and your nimble fingers that had learned long ago exactly what she loved. You and your damned thumb that never left her clit until she was so sensitive she could almost cry.

That warm feeling in her core didn’t build softly. It formed quickly with each swipe of your thumb, each thrust of your fingers that had her biting her tongue so hard she could taste blood. She managed to lift her head right when you pulled your own mouth away. Perfect.

Her lips pressed against yours before that feeling erupted inside her. It was different from all the other times. It was more intense, hitting her rather quickly instead of slowly cascading over the edge. Her nails dug into the back of your neck, but you didn’t seem to care. You simply held her closer, keeping your fingers moving in rhythm with her body until she could relax in your arms.

Footsteps came closer.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered against your lips, “I know it was fast, we can take our time at home.”

Wednesday didn’t have an answer just yet. She was still out of breath, trying to recover from the wave of bliss that had left her unable to properly function. But she could give you some form of answer; a soft kiss, nothing like what you had just done to her.

She felt you smile against her lips.

“Here,” you said softly as you lowered her back to the ground on shaky legs. “I’ll grab our coats, you take a moment.”

The moment you were gone, she felt cold. It wasn’t something she had ever admitted out loud, but she despised when you left her even if momentarily. She was fond of the warmth you gave her, both internally and externally. There was something special about it that evaded her verbiage. All she knew was she enjoyed it.

When she opened her eyes, she froze.

“What are you doing?” She asked in a husky voice.

You thumbed through the cash in the wallet. “I’m stealing.” You grabbed the wad of cash and placed the empty wallet back into the coat before moving on to the next one. “If I’m going to run a company one day, I should start getting used to it.”

Wednesday walked up to you slowly and waited for you to finish with what was currently in your hands. Once you paused, she pulled you down into a kiss. Slow, soft, good. You pulled back ever so slightly with a small smile on your face, and she just looked at you.

“I love you,” she said softly.

You leaned down to kiss her again.

“I love you too.”

[reallyromealone]

Can I request an smiley x reader omegaverse like omega reader is Mikey’s sibling. Like the first time that smiley sees him he instantly knows that’s his fated omega but he has to go through Mikey to try and court reader plz and thank you.

Title: lover

Fandom: Tokyo revengers

Characters: Sano family, Toman, smiley

Fic type: omegaverse

Pairings: smiley x reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, omegaverse, Omega male reader, protective Sano siblings, fluff, cute, soulmate

Notes:

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Mikey was always an overprotective brother, scaring off anyone who went near his siblings and (name) especially as the Omega was a cutie that grabbed everyone's attention much to his older brothers annoyances.

The Sano brothers always chased off suitors, keeping him away from gang shit but sometimes it was unavoidable.

"(Name), what are you doin' here?" Baji asked as (name) sat at the steps of the shrine doing his homework "Shinichiro doesn't need help at the shop and home was boring so Mikey dragged me here" (name) explained simply as mitsuya nodded "you never been to a meeting, have you?" He asked and (name) shook his head "nyope but Mikey would rather die than have be go out and about and Iza is busy with his own stuff so.... Here I am"

(Name) Met a few Toman higher ups, though (name) was usually helping shin or grandpa so this was one of his first times meeting a few people here.

(Name) Was curious as two motorcycles pulled up, a set of twins hopping off "so why the hell are we here?!" The pink haired one yelled out and (name) was entranced immediately, a small chirp leaving his lips and the smiling teen whipped his head around to see the Omega and a rumble left his throatbas the world halted for them, (name) feeling the need to get closer to the Alpha.

"Alpha..."

"NOPE ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT!"

(Name) Snapped from his trance as Mikey looked ready to murder at the lovestruck look his brother was giving Smiley, he didn't want any fucker near his brother and definitely not one of the biggest Fuckboys in the gang. "(Name)! I will bring you home I swear to god!" Mikey barked and (name) rolled his eyes "oh please! I'm not doing anything!" He fired back and the blond groaned annoyed "just stop making eyes at my captain and smiley stop looking at him like that or I'll kick your ass!"

That did nothing, Everytime smiley shot the other a flirty glance, (name) smiled all flustered and that just egged the Alpha on further.

"I swear to fucking god!" And (name) went back to his homework.

"He is NEVER going to a meeting again!" Mikey said angrily as they got home, Izana glancing up as Emma and shinichiro made dinner "what happened?" The teen girl asked, tilting her head slightly and (name) pouted "I didn't do anything! Mikey is being dramatic!" (Name) Huffed as he sat beside Izana "Iza! Make Mikey stop being a drama queen"

Shinichiro looked at Draken who was leaning on the door frame "ken, what happened?"

"(Name) Met his dated pair" he said simply and the room was silent as Izana moved to sniff his brother "you don't smell like (scent)" the white haired man accused and they looked at him expectantly and (name) pouted as grandpa made a grunt "when do we get to meet em?" The old alpha asked and (name) huffed "after I get to meet him!"

"So you are trying to kill me!" Mikey cried and (name) rolled his eyes.

It wasn't till the following week that (name) saw smiley again, the two halting as (name) went to get groceries for dinner "it's you!" (Name) Was over the moon as the older kawata looked at him with a flirty grin "watch out now, Mikey might kick my ass" he teased and (name) huffed "he wouldn't dare" oh Mikey would but (name) in turn would throw shit at him.

Smiley walked with (name) around the store as they chatted, falling so easily into a routine as the Alpha kept his fated pair close as the Alpha paid for the other "you don't have to!" (Name) Looked guilt as smiley shrugged "not gonna let my mate pay for shit"

The two walked to the Sano house as shinichiro was reading a magazine on the engawa casually "OI! one foot apart you shits!" The eldest barked out and (name) pouted, the other two brothers poking their heads out and Mikey glared as Izana stared coldly at the elder twin "(name)! Didn't I say no dating till I'm dead!" Mikey grumbled out and (name) rolled his eyes "I'm older than you!" (Name) Fired back as the two squabbled leaving the eldest siblings to judge smiley "this house is traditional when it comes to courting, if you want to be with him it's not gonna be easy"

Shinichiro wanted his younger brother to date a nice alpha not.... Not smiley.

Anyone but smiley--- I'm almost anyone because he's seen the people his brothers hang out with.

Maybe like mitsuya, yeah mitsuya would treat him well.

And thus started the courting process, all dates had a a chaperone of one of the siblings, the two never getting to be alone (unless you count the times smiley snuck into (name)s bedroom so they could makeout) and the brothers judged any gift that smiley got (name) "looks cheap" they said but (name) was giddy at anything his mate to be got him.

(Name) Got him little trinkets and a cute bracelet set that the Omega seemed very proud of and Smiley wore the matching bracelets with pride.

"Where ya taking him"

"What are you gonna do?"

"Hope you booked a reservation for three"

Smiley was ready to throttle his close friend and his family but knew they were just worried about their pack Omega dating though thank fuck grandpa Sano was chill with him and actually seemed happy that (name) found his soulmate.

"These goofs are all planning on moving out, (name) is the only one who is interested in running the dojo" grandpa Sano said randomly while Smiley waited for him to finish getting ready "you're a good kid, I know what my boys do so I know you can hold your own" he continued and smiley for once wasn't so well... Smiley but instead Nahoya.

"So what do you want to do, after school?"

"My brother and I want to run our own ramen shop, we have a name for it and everything"

The old alpha hummed, seeming pleased with his response "hardworking young man, (name) is a strong young man, doesn't like to be tied to his omega status despite his brothers attempts... Let him do what makes him happy" the elder man asked him and nahoya nodded "if he wants something, I'll do whatever I can to provide it"

"Good, now (name)! Hurry up! You're making this young man wait forever!"

"I'm coming I'm coming!"

Grandpa Sano watched how much love was between them, he hoped he could get to live to see them get married.

Maybe even to see a few pups.

[henneseyhoe]

Just One More. | 2

Lewis Hamilton x BLACK!FEM!Reader

WARNINGS: short, no smut! (surprisingly), just fluffy shit for father’s day <44 😘

SUMMARY: Congratulations! You had the twins! time to deal with lewis and his new dad antics (again), but first, here’s two cute moments.

(1)

✮✮✮✮

“You happy now?”

You stare at your husband through tired and teary eyes, watching him cradle your daughter in his arms. You had just gone through twenty hours of labor, spending half of those hours at home and in pain and the other half in the hospital. When you got there you could barely walk, every contraction you felt striking your belly and back which made your knees weak. You swore hours earlier it was just braxton hicks, but your twins soon proved you wrong. Very, very wrong.

When you heard both their cries erupt in the room, you smiled in victory as you were finally done with the most crucial part.

“You did so good, love”

Lewis praised you with stray tears he could no longer hold in trailing down his cheeks, a sweet kiss being placed on your forehead before he did the same to the twins. The boy who was born first, with no surprise, looked exactly like Lewis. He was a spitting imagine of your other set of twins when they were babies, but that daughter of yours? All you. Exactly three minutes apart, when she arrived the nurses were starting to wonder if Lewis was in the room at all when she was conceived.

You looked at the two newborns, just as proud of your work as god himself was.

“You know, I was gonna lose it if she was a boy” You spoke while gently brushing your fingers through your son’s soft hair. Lewis chuckles and lays besides you in the hospital bed, his eyes switching attention from baby to baby, but never letting go of his babygirl. You smile and let him have his moment. You knew the hogging was mostly because of him being in shock that he actually got his girl, He’d be all over your son also come morning time.

“I’m in awe how much she looks like you. Usually they don’t look like anyone right away but wow…she’s all you, Y/N” Lewis expresses, a finger caressing her blushed cheek. You just nod in agreement, laughing at how her hair stuck up in the front like spikes while everything else laid down. Lewis was too busy gushing over both of them to point out how silly either of them looked.

✮✮✮✮

When you two took the babies home, it was hard to keep the twins away from them. Your boys were there peeking over your shoulder at every feeding, every burping, every changing, even every bath. They had started to ask when they’d be big enough to play with, a toy in both of their hands as they waited for your answer. Before you could speak, Lewis was already speaking, serving them with the facts while simultaneously burping the baby in his arms.

“They won’t be able to play with you two for a while. They’re too small right now and they don’t do much but sleep and eat”

Your boys pouted, one rolling his eyes back dramatically. “Well, that’s boring! They’re boring!” Silas, the older one huffed, sitting on the coffee table in front of you. Both you and Lewis cackled, but the boys found nothing funny. “Yes, babies are boring for the first few months”

“Why’d you go and get two more then?” Silas’s face scrunched as he asked and you tried helplessly not to laugh so loud at the poor baby that the infant in your arms would jump out of her sleep.

“Yeah, Lewis…Why did we ‘get’ two more?” Egging it on, you look back at your husband for another answer, your face riddled with amusement as he completely curves the question. “Any questions other than that? Saint?”

“So they can’t throw a ball? or catch it?” Saint inquired as he went back to the previous topic, sitting next to his brother. You shake your head ‘no’ and they both sigh.

“And they can’t talk either?” Silas asks, earning another laugh from you and Lewis. You two thought the constant questions would stop at three, but your boys were a curious pair. You’d only hope the next set were a bit more tame but with how the universe humbled you the last time...

“If you hear them talking before they hit nine months then please inform daddy so he can call Guinness world records”

✮✮✮✮

💌: again, superior trope, dad!lewis for the win, muah!💋

[pixiiipie]

Hi there, me again. 😅 so I’ve recently become obsessed with Sampo from HSR and I don’t really see a whole lot of writings for him. So, I figured I’d request it. It can be subby or just platonic, I genuinely don’t mind.

to betray my customers, i charge extra~

includes || sub!sampo | dom!reader | gn!reader | reader described as having a cock but could be seen as a strap | reader is a little mean but the ending is sweet | sampo is called a slut and whore | reader is called master | sampo has a crush on reader (u probs do look at him <3) not proofread!!

hello you :) i’m so so glad you’ve finally discovered sampo he was one of my first characters when but i stopped playing after i got kafka. so, i’m hoping my quick refresh of content will help me write this. obviously, we gotta fuck this sweet boy <3

“if that is all you require of the esteemed sampo koski, then i shall be taking my leave.” sampo said in his usual manner and flair, even going so far as to kiss your knuckle with a wink. he’d just finished carrying out some jobs for you and was only sticking around to collect the remainder of his payment. half now and half when the job was finished of course.

“until next time, tah-rah~!” with a bow, sampo turned to leave before your voice cut through his theatrics.

“wait.” you called, plain and simple but halting him immediately. the relationship you and sampo had was… complicated to say the least. you were well acquainted to the point where he’d complete tasks you’d assign him to for a much cheaper price than he’d charge others and even not charge you at all for smaller, easier things (maybe he’d try his charm and ask for a kiss instead- which you’d always indulge him in). truthfully, he was absolutely infatuated with you. sampo would do anything for you even if you refused payment.

“my dear sampo,” you began. your voice, although seemingly sweet, was laced with poison. sampo couldn’t help but take an unnatural deep breath trying not to show he was nervous and remain cocky. “i heard a little something from someone that piqued my interest. word travels fast as you must know.” you closed the gap between the two of you where you could just about feel his breath on you.

“ah that’s probably just some gossip to pass the time. you know how bored and lifeless people get. even i’ve spread a few rumours to liven things up and i’m preeetty sure they’re still going strong. meaningless chatter my darling y/n, meaningless chatter.” sampo mused trying to avoid whatever you’ve said coming into light and potentially screwing him over.

“a little birdie told me, that you encourage betrayal of your customers as long as they pay extra.” you say mindlessly playing with a longer strand of his hair.

“well- now now i wouldn’t say i encourage it per say and that doesn’t go for everyone i do business with. for instance! sampo koski would never do anything that goes against you that’s just plain wrong and against my moral code.” sampo explains although it comes out a little faster than he’d liked. you wondered just how many close calls he’s had if he’s this bad at excuses.

“you’re a bad liar sampo.” you whisper in his ear taking note on how his breath hitches and he presses his lips together. “and, so is your body. what’s this?” you adjust your knee so it’s pressed lightly over his growing bulge which, in turn, made sampo gasp sharply and immediately cover his mouth. “just.. just very happy to see my favourite customer.” sampo tries to play it off with a wink but to no avail. his voice was failing him pitifully.

“hmm how about an exchange for this new information? you keep me protected in exchange for me helping you out.” it was almost as if you had swapped roles. with one hand, you held his face and kept him looking at you while the other snuck through a gap in his clothes to hold his waist. sampo was desperately trying to hold onto his snark but it was hard when he wanted needed this moment that he’d been so patiently waiting for. “exchange gladly accepted.” he said with a smile taking your waist and pressing you against him more.

———

“oh sampo i can tell why everyone keeps coming back to you.” you say adjusting his legs so you can reach even deeper into him. sampo was seeing stars, blown away by the fact his fantasies were finally coming true. he’ll easily keep coming back to you for more than jobs now he’s had a taste of your cock. a taste wasn’t enough to describe this it was more a five course meal he’d never become full from.

“mgghh-! f-fuck mmMhmhmhm! no one can qui-quite get enoughhh offf- aH-! sah-sampo mmM-!” sampo moaned trying to fulfil your request and put on a show for you. he was stripped of all his clothes apart from his top, which lay undone but still over his arms underneath him, and lay on his back taking your cock like such a good boy. as instructed by you, his was to keep his hands pressed under his back.

“i wonder… do you do this with many people mr cold feet?” you ask slowing your movements to allow him to think. sampo only nodded with an attempt at a smirk between whimpers. this was only half true. sure, he’d fucked around a little for information but it was never like this. a quick handjob under a table, head in an ally but he was never on the receiving end.

“i thought as much. you’re never fully satisfied are you, whore?” your last word stung but sampo was quickly learning that he had a thing for pain. “you do remember why i’m doing this don’t you sampo?”the switch to his name caught him off guard and he’s not sure if he was turned on or disappointed by this. again, he nodded. “use your words.” you swore he whimpered at your change of tone and it was difficult for him not to cum from this. “s-so i’ll hnnngg-! i’ll protect y-ya!” sampo squirmed as your hands carelessly roamed his body and grazed over his nipples.

“mm almost,” you began as you leaned towards him, talking into his ear. “it’s easy for you to say you’ll protect me but how can i know you definitely will? if i have this dirt on you, it’ll make it that bit harder for you to betray me.” you punctuate your words with harsh thrusts that probably made it harder for him to understand and take in what you were saying. “nn-no ne-aH-! never hnnggh betray y-you! neva-ah! m-masterrrr” sampo almost cries, wishing he never made that stupid slogan for some extra cash.

“but look at how well you take me. makes me think that even if i did expose you, you’d like it. everyone would know what a slut mr cold feet is and they’d all want a turn with you and fuck you like the whore you’re clearly proving to be.” to compliment your words, you lazily dragged your hand up and down his aching cock causing him to buck into your hand and almost curl in on himself.

sampo doesn’t want you to tell everyone but only because he only wants you to fuck him like this! he wants to prove that he can be a good boy and allow the chance that maybe you’ll do this to him again. you’re the only master he wants and he would never betray his master. it was all too much. sampo was almost at his limit.

“plu-pluheeseee g’nnah c-cumm hnnggg!” desperate to reach his high, sampo began subconsciously grinding onto you and trying to match your thrusts to force you deeper inside. watching him, you grab his hips and help him working faster and deeper inside. “such a polite boy. everyone likes a good boy don’t they?” you ask wondering how foggy his head has gotten.

“mmgnmmm! g-good boy ‘mma g’boyyy.” he almost shouts as if he was trying to prove your previous points wrong. “you’ve satisfied your customer greatly sampo. you can cum.” you say pressing a kiss to his cheek where a tear was running down.

“thhh-thaahnk you!” he slurred over and over as he came over his stomach with a high pitched whine. you gently helped him ride out his orgasm and watched how his hands dug into the blankets underneath him. he really was good. they never moved from where you instructed him to keep them. before you pulled out though, you had to do one more thing. you took your phone and held it above him, making sure to capture the full image of sampo lay blissed out, covered in his own cum and with a cock buried deep in his ass.

“smileee.” you say almost mimicking his usual sing song voice. to your surprise, he followed your instructions and even stuck out his tongue to sell the image more. leaning down to kiss his chewed up lips, you tell him that you were only kidding as you slowly and carefully pull out. it was only to make him believe that you really had dirt on him and it wasn’t another rumour. it would make him think twice before doing anything knowing that you had a picture of him in this state (and probably download so he could never truly delete every trace of it).

“you’d let me?” you ask moving some stray strands of hair out of his eyes and letting your hand rest on his cheek. sampo only nodded and kissed your palm. “i want you to trust that i would never betray you.” his voice (although a little hoarse) was serious and a stark contrast to his usual tone. “if havin’ that will give you peace of mind, that’s okay.” he smiles up at you with genuine earnest. “you’ll never have the chance to use it anywhos.”

“you’re m’favourite customer. i only want you. i love you.”

“pleasure doing business with you sampo, my good boy”

if you enjoyed, please consider liking or even reblogging! any kind of interaction let’s me know that you liked this and gives me motivation to write more. make sure to follow to stay up to date with all my thoughts <3

[sixosix]

HOLD ON TO THE MEMORIES, AND I WILL HOLD ONTO YOU | LYNEY

notes happy last chapter!! hope u enjoy<33 and tune in for another post in appreciation for the last chapter yeahhh

previous chapter | masterlist

It took two months in Sumeru, three in Liyue, and one month in Snezhnaya to take you down. Childe admitted that you held up longer than he expected—training unrelentingly in an unfamiliar environment would shake anyone’s confidence. But you’d been pushing through with excitement at the prospect of traveling to another region and training to become stronger. The adrenaline is quick to disappear when Rosalie has to go back home, and her absence makes the cold loneliness prominent.

When Childe strikes at you with a sword, your calves burn, and your thighs quiver—that split second costs you the match. Childe calls for you to get up. Fight back. But for some reason, all you can think of is how the ice has melted in your boots in a puddle and how the flowers sprinkled sporadically in the snow are the same ones back at home.

Childe senses it, the sudden drop of mood. He studies whatever expression you’re making and smiles.

“Alright. I think it’s about time.”

“I’m sorry.”

Childe pulls you up and throws your arm over his shoulder. “What’re you sorry for?”

You take one heavy step at a time, watching and hating as your feet sink into the soft snow. It’s too cold. “You’re doing so much for me, but I’m too weak to follow through.”

“Nonsense.” He clicks his tongue. “I think of this as one of my duties.”

“But it’s not one of your duties,” you argue weakly. “I’m a burden to your actual duties. My colleagues are already suspicious of this special treatment.”

“They aren’t really your colleagues,” Childe points out. “Just as you aren’t actually working under me. You’re my mentee. There’s a world of difference.”

You sigh, unconvinced. Childe is doing so much to prevent the other Harbingers and even the Tsaritsa herself from snooping in your business. A part of you thinks the Tsaritsa already knows, but it’s about time she does something about it, right?

“You’re thinking too hard,” Childe remarks. When you turn to him, he’s staring ahead. “Don’t worry, okay? You’ve got three Harbingers vouching for you.”

“Three?”

Childe grins. “That boyfriend of yours is about to be one, isn’t he?”

Excitement thrums in each bone of your body as the familiar view of the continent-sized fountain comes to view. You nearly fall over into the ocean from tipping forward.

“Fontaine’s not going anywhere,” Childe yells out from the other side of the Fatui-issued ship.

The wind whips through your hair. The recognizable scent of the sea breeze makes you laugh in delight. Maybe you missed your home more than you realized. 

“I wouldn’t let it, anyway,” you answer back.

Once the ship has reached the dock, you bound over to Childe, who looks over curiously.

“Thank you,” you say, and you really, really mean it. For the past few months, for this and possibly for more in the future.

Childe ruffles your hair. It would’ve made you glare at him on usual days, but you’re bursting with happiness so you let him until he says, “No problem, Y/N. We’re friends now.”

Childe nudges you forward. “Now, go hurry. I’m about one messenger bird away from losing my patience with Lyney.”

Despite that, you meet with Rosalie first.

The sun has barely risen, just peeking from rolling hills. The shop is still closed. But this is your home, so you push the key in, pull the door open, and catch sight of Rosalie fixing the displays on the shelf behind the counter.

“Maman, why are you up so early?”

Rosalie’s head whips around, then her limbs lock up in place. She’d been with you for the first two weeks of Sumeru, admiring their flora, then taking a lot of them home. You see them displayed on the shelves next to your first flower—the ones that are certainly for sale. Rosalie still hasn’t moved, frozen, gaping at you.

“Surprise,” you say, then she boots back to life and runs over to hug you.

“Oh, my darling,” Rosalie says reverently, as if speaking to the gods, thanking them. Her hands are stained with soil dirt and the smell of leaves, but you find that there is nothing else more fitting. You really are home. “Ma bébé! You’re back!”

You pluck a few petals off of her hair. “I am.”

Rosalie pulls back and grins up at you. “You’re home! You’re—” her face twists in realization, “Oh, you’re back. Oh, dear. You just missed Lyney. He came over earlier to help me settle everything before I opened up.”

“Wait, really?”

Rosalie nods, ushering you inside the counter, where the door leads to upstairs to the kitchen. “Yes, yes. Since I returned, Lyney has been coming over to visit and help me with the shop.”

Your heart skips a beat. “He does?”

“Mhm. At first, I assumed it was because he got used to visiting you, but he just does it every day now. ” Rosalie shakes her head fondly, smoothing down your hair. “That boy. I tell him that he should focus when he has shows to practice or prepare for, but he just buries his hands in the dirt as an answer.”

“I see you two have gotten closer while I was away.” The image of Lyney changing pots, getting his hands soiled, while he insists that Rosalie does the watering, makes you unbelievably fond.

“As stubborn as you,” Rosalie chides, smiling. “He knows how to handle them, though. Did you know, Lyney started to send out messenger birds when I told him I was missing you? That boy is more than head over heels, darling.”

“Maman,” you say, embarrassed. “I just came back. Aren’t you going to ask how I am?”

“I don’t need to. Lyney updates me anyway,” Rosalie says. “But I have missed you, so tell your maman about everything, okay?”

“I’ll tell you stories for as long as you want me to, maman.”

Rosalie’s eyes water, but she braves through it as she stares wordlessly at you. She wipes it off, then ruffles your hair. Do you have a sign on your head or something? 

“I’m proud to call you my daughter. I’ll always want you to.”

Freminet is the first out of the siblings to hear from you. It’s not on purpose. You’re on your way to surprise Lyney and Lynette when you hear a soft voice call out after you. Your head snaps side to side, frantically looking for the source, then grin wide when Freminet waves at you feverishly.

“Y/N!” he exclaims breathlessly.

“Freminet!” you yell back, falling towards a hug that he tightly reciprocates. 

“I didn’t know you were back?” He says incredulously, which might just be the most passionate emotion you’ve ever felt from him. He looks torn between disbelief and joy.

“Just this morning. I wanted to surprise all of you.” To gain a sense of satisfaction, you bury your hand in his hair first, knocking his beret aside when you ruffle and mess with his hair. “Your hair’s gotten longer than usual.”

“Yeah. You missed too much,” Freminet mumbles. But he doesn’t look depressed about it. He beams up at you, reminding you of a particularly pleased puppy.  “You have a lot to catch up on.”

“I know, I know.”

“But wait.” Freminet’s brows scrunch together. “How long are you allowed to stay here?”

“Two weeks, at most. But I can always come back whenever I want.”

Freminet laughs. “Are you going to max out your two weeks before you talk to Lyney?”

“Shut up.” You elbow his ribs, but Freminet just laughs harder. “I was on my way to your house before I saw you.”

Freminet hums thoughtfully, his gaze drifting off to somewhere far. “I don’t think Lyney’s home right now.”

“Really?” You follow his gaze, but see nothing. Only kids running around, throwing cards around and sounding explosions with their mouths. You smile. Were they imitating Lyney? It seems that even if you try to avoid him, you’ll find traces of his footsteps anywhere. “Huh. Where could he be then?”

“Ever since you left, Lyney goes to this one spot a lot,” Freminet says, turning back to you with a knowing glint in his eye.

“Ma mère’s shop?”

“No, no. A different one. He says you two sparred there, and he goes there when he misses you. He goes every day.”

Rosalie, then now Freminet… You feel giddy, fondness bursting in your chest at the thought of Lyney missing you as much as you missed him. Not that you’d admit it to him straight up—because then he’d never let it go. But even then, the thought of that has you smiling to yourself like a madman.

Freminet notices it, too. “I’ll tell Lynette you said hi.”

True to his word, you find Lyney in the same spot he asked you to spar with him after years without it. You face his back, but you keep your steps light and measured, moving closer and closer until you see that he’s picking flowers. For his show, maybe?

Lyney looks vulnerable, hunched over a patch of flowers and gently unrooting them from the grass.

You spread your palm and let ice materialize above it in the shape of a heart. It’s smooth and clean after months and months of perfecting it. Then you throw it towards him. You have exceptional aim—you barely miss his ear on purpose. But Lyney straightens up in a snap and catches the heart with a gloved hand.

He looks at the heart in confusion, then rapidly whips around to you.

You grin and wave, unsure of what to say. What do you even greet him with? It’s nice to see you again? I missed you?

You haven’t had much time to think about it as Lyney sprints to you and tackles you down into a hug, blowing the air out of your chest as you both fall on the grass. You laugh as Lyney rubs his head on your neck like those affectionate cats back at Sumeru, his arm wrapped tightly around your shoulder.

Lyney pulls away, pupils blown wide.

“Hi,” he breathes out.

“Hi,” you whisper in return. Maybe the right thing to say is, “Lyney.”

“You’re back. You—you’re back in Fontaine—you made me a heart!”

“I did,” you say shyly. “I’m home.”

Sumeru had been wonderful; with trees that stretched and went on for forever, dewy grass that tickled your calves, and the heat of the sand that you longed for when you reached Snezhnaya. Liyue had been beautiful; spread with the aroma of spices and the orange glow of their sunset, then the mountains that allowed you to soar from one to another. Snezhnaya had been enchanting; the view of their sky was unmatched, the flowers that were unique to the cold climate were beautiful, their snow sent you a thrill that you knew you couldn’t feel anywhere else, and you were able to refine your Vision in the place where it belonged.

But the warmth that Lyney emanated—that he gave you—was the kind you missed in every place you went to. This is where you belong.

thank you so much for reading. i'll save all the things i want to say in the next post, so please, tune in!

[nvuy]

jiaoqiu.

i always think about jiaoqiu with his little worker partner. his little busy bee. his little sleep deprived mess that he loves so much.

the thing with jiaoqiu is that not only is this man the most fuzziest cuddle thing in the world—and during the colder months especially he becomes a ginormous soft blanket with how his tail instinctively curls over you—but he’s also your personal chef.

obviously, if you’re sick, he’ll see to your symptoms and take care of you himself.

but, even just for everyday meals. maybe your job is much more gruelling than his. maybe you start an hour before he does in the morning.

your alarm goes off every morning, and he wakes up with you. a lot of the time you fight in his hold, half because he’s so warm and it’s so cold outside and you’d much rather remain in bed and trace his twitchy ears all day with your thumb (and hope you can hear those gentle squeaky purrs you know he can make), and the other half because the sleep deprivation is really catching up to you.

even if he’s not a morning person, and he’s a little bit grouchy he prepares coffee, even if you insist he doesn’t have to.

“oh, don’t be silly,” he mumbles tiredly one morning into your hair. he’s still in his pyjamas while you’re almost fully dressed. “if i don’t cook for you, you won’t even eat all day.”

well. he’s not wrong.

he’ll make and pack you lunch to take to work every single day. usually, he’ll prepare meals depending on what you need; more protein, more iron, more fibre, whatever, whatever. he’ll mix in vitamins to help you as he sees fit.

he’ll also sneak snacks. he tries to avoid chocolate or sugary treats. and prefers to cut up some fruit, or sneak in a nut bar or something.

but sometimes when he knows you’re having a particularly rough week at work, he’ll give you something special. and he’ll prepare dessert after dinner. nothing major. he’s not really a baker, so it’s usually treats picked up from the bakery when he goes out to buy bread.

after you finally come into the kitchen in the morning to leave for work, you’re just as bone tired as he is while you’re putting on your shoes.

jiaoqiu comes over slowly and hands you three containers. there’s few words exchanged; you’re both way too exhausted. it’s six in the morning.

he’s wearing bunny slippers and they skid and slip across the floor as he then hands you coffee in a travel cup before he leans forward and presses a kiss to your hair.

you work harder. he knows. you work longer hours. your job is much more physically and mentally taxing. he loves his job. you… not so much.

he compensates by working hard at home for you. there’s always the smell of something cooking when you walk through the door. and though you insist you’ll clean the dishes, he always ends up taking over with a reassuring kiss to your head.

bedtime is his favourite. his absolute favourite. especially if he knows you have the day off tomorrow.

if he knows you’re in the mood, he’ll tease. just a little bit. fleeting whispers in your ear, and the soft brush of his tail against your thighs.

most nights, though, you’ll fall into his arms and he’ll bury his nose into the side of your neck.

he knows your sleep schedule is fucked to bits. that won’t deter him though. sneaking melatonin in food is easy, but for the most part, jiaoqiu ensures that the food he cooks for you everyday provides enough nutrients to get you through the day.

and hey!!!! bonus on your day offs in the morning!!!!! as a reward for being such a lovely little malewife, you retrieve the brush from the nightstand and slowly detangle the knots in his tail. and the kisses he peppers you in while his tail frantically wags side to side are always worth it.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Hello!! Hope you’re doing good! Can I request an Evil Queen WandaNat au Drabble where Wanda is away on business with another kingdom and R is left alone with Nat and it’s a little awkward since Wanda is usually the more affectionate one and R has spent more time alone with her than she has with Nat so they spend the day getting to know each other?

Possibly getting caught in a compromising position when Wanda returns?

Thanks!! 🤭💕

EvilQueens!WandaNat x Maid!Fem!Reader

Summary: Wanda is away in the next kingdom over so here you are left alone with Natasha. Will you manage to become closer?

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, sexual themes

A/N: I love writing these three and exploring their dynamic more. This was like the week following Nat talking with you about being with both of them.

The castle felt emptier without Queen Wanda's presence, her warm, affectionate demeanor a stark contrast to Queen Natasha's colder, more calculating nature. Wanda had left on business with another kingdom, leaving you alone with Natasha, an arrangement that filled you with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. Your interactions with Natasha had always been intense, but mostly in the presence of Wanda, whose affection balanced Natasha's dominant tendencies.

You went about your duties with a heightened sense of awareness, every creak of the floorboards and distant murmur echoing through the grand halls. As the day wore on, you found yourself summoned to Natasha’s private chambers, a rare occurrence that set your nerves on edge.

You knocked softly on the heavy wooden door, waiting for her permission to enter.

“Come in,” her voice called out, smooth and commanding as always.

You stepped inside, closing the door quietly behind you. Natasha stood by the window, her sharp eyes staring out at the vast expanse of the kingdom. She turned to face you, her expression unreadable.

“Y/N,” she said, her tone neither warm nor cold. “Join me.”

You walked over, stopping a respectful distance away. She gestured to a chair beside hers, and you sat down, your hands clasped in your lap.

“Tell me,” Natasha began, her eyes studying you intently. “How do you find your duties here, especially in Wanda’s absence?”

You hesitated, unsure of how to respond. “I… I find them fulfilling, Your Majesty. I strive to meet your expectations.”

Natasha’s lips curved into a small, almost imperceptible smile. “You’ve done more than meet them. Wanda speaks highly of you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the compliment, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this conversation. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

She leaned back in her chair, her gaze never leaving yours. “You seem nervous, Y/N. Are you uncomfortable around me?”

You swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “I’m not… uncomfortable, Your Majesty. It’s just that… I’ve spent more time alone with Queen Wanda. I’m not as familiar with you.”

Natasha’s smile widened slightly. “And you find Wanda’s affection easier to navigate?”

You nodded, feeling a blush creep up your neck. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Natasha rose from her chair, walking over to you. She stood beside you, her presence imposing yet strangely comforting.

“Wanda is the heart of our kingdom,” Natasha said softly, her fingers brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Her warmth is what draws people to us. But she and I are a unit, two sides of the same coin. You’ve seen my dominance, my demands. Now, let’s explore something different.”

Your breath hitched as she gently lifted your chin, forcing you to meet her gaze. Her eyes were softer than you’d ever seen, a glimpse of vulnerability hidden beneath the surface.

“Today, we get to know each other,” Natasha continued, her voice low and inviting. “No titles, no duties. Just you and me.”

You blinked in surprise, unsure of how to respond. “I… I’d like that, Natasha.”

She smiled, a genuine warmth spreading across her face. “Good. Let’s start with something simple. Tell me about yourself, your life before the castle.”

You spent the rest of the morning talking, sharing stories of your past, your hopes, and your fears. Natasha listened intently, her usual stern demeanor softening as she learned more about you. She shared stories of her own, tales of her childhood, her bond with Wanda, and the responsibilities that weighed heavily on her shoulders.

As the sun began to set, you found yourself sitting beside her on the plush sofa, the initial awkwardness replaced by a growing sense of comfort and camaraderie. Natasha’s arm draped over the back of the sofa, her fingers occasionally brushing against your shoulder, a touch that was both reassuring and electrifying.

“You know,” Natasha said thoughtfully, “I never realized how much Wanda’s presence balanced us until now. She’s the light to my darkness, the softness to my hardness.”

You nodded, understanding the depth of their bond. “She’s amazing,” you agreed. “But so are you, Natasha. You’re strong and decisive, qualities that are just as important.”

She smiled, a rare, genuine smile that made your heart flutter. “Thank you, Y/N. It means a lot to hear that.”

The room fell into a comfortable silence, the bond between you growing stronger with each passing moment. For the first time, you saw Natasha not just as a queen or a dominant force, but as a person with her own fears and vulnerabilities.

As the evening drew to a close, Natasha stood, offering you her hand. “Come,” she said softly. “Let’s walk through the gardens. It’s a beautiful night, and I’d like to continue this conversation under the stars.”

The moon hung high in the sky as you and Natasha walked through the gardens, the cool night air carrying the scent of blooming flowers. Your conversation flowed easily, the initial awkwardness completely gone. You felt a growing sense of connection with her, understanding her complexities and appreciating her strength and vulnerabilities.

Eventually, the two of you found a secluded bench under a large oak tree. Natasha sat down, pulling you beside her. She turned to face you, her eyes glinting with a mix of curiosity and something deeper.

“You’ve surprised me, Y/N,” Natasha said softly, her hand resting on your thigh. “You’re more than I expected.”

You felt a flush of warmth at her words, your heart pounding in your chest. “Thank you, Natasha. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you better.”

Her gaze lingered on you, her expression contemplative. Slowly, she leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a tentative kiss. It was softer and more intimate than any kiss you’d shared before, filled with a promise of deeper connection.

You melted into the kiss, your hands finding their way to her shoulders. Natasha’s hand slid up your thigh, her touch sending shivers of pleasure through your body. The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more demanding.

Lost in the moment, you barely registered the sound of footsteps approaching. It wasn’t until the kiss broke, both of you breathless, that you looked up and saw Queen Wanda standing a few feet away.

“Wanda,” Natasha breathed, a mix of surprise and something else in her voice.

Wanda’s eyes were wide, her expression unreadable as she took in the scene before her. For a moment, the air was thick with tension, the silence deafening.

You scrambled to stand, your heart racing. “Your Majesty, I—”

Wanda held up a hand, silencing you. She stepped forward, her eyes locked on Natasha’s. There was a long, charged moment where they simply stared at each other, an entire conversation passing between them without words.

Finally, Wanda’s gaze softened, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. “I see you’ve been getting to know each other,” she said, her voice gentle.

Natasha stood as well, moving to Wanda’s side. “I wanted to understand what you see in her,” she explained, her tone almost apologetic.

Wanda reached out, cupping Natasha’s face in her hands. “And what do you see?”

Natasha’s eyes flickered to you, then back to Wanda. “Someone loyal, dedicated, and full of potential. Someone worthy of our attention.”

Wanda’s smile widened, and she leaned in to kiss Natasha softly. “I’m glad you see it too.”

Turning to you, Wanda’s expression was warm and inviting. “Come here, Y/N.”

You stepped forward, still unsure of what to expect. Wanda’s arms encircled you, pulling you into a gentle embrace. “I missed you,” she whispered, her breath warm against your ear.

“I missed you too, Your Majesty,” you replied, your voice trembling with emotion.

Wanda pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting yours. “You don’t need to be so formal, not here, not with us.”

Natasha stepped closer, her hand resting on your lower back. “We’re a unit now,” she said softly. “All three of us.”

You nodded, feeling a swell of emotion. The queens, despite their different approaches, had opened their hearts to you, creating a bond that went beyond mere duty or desire.

Wanda’s hand cupped your cheek, her thumb brushing your skin tenderly. “Let’s go inside,” she suggested. “We have much to discuss, and I believe it’s time we truly come together.”

Hand in hand, the three of you walked back to the castle, the night air filled with the promise of new beginnings. As you stepped into the warmth of their chambers, you felt a sense of belonging, knowing that you were exactly where you were meant to be—with the two queens who had claimed your heart and soul.

[alchemistc]

Just thinking about Buck internalizing 'i don't think you're ready'. Thinking about him running back over his 'I'm an ally' speech and cringing because God, WHY did he say that, why couldn't he have just been cool.

Thinking about him actually sitting in it, and thinking about why the interruption from Eddie made him Act Like That. There's obviously the newness, the discomfort, the fact that Buck hasn't really had a chance to explore much of "Oh, I am attracted to men." yet. He was so busy with nerves and he wanted more time and then there was Eddie, who knows (probably too much) about Buck's dating history and he Hasn't Told Eddie about this. He hasn't had a chance to wrap his own mind around it yet.

Buck usually goes to three people: Maddie, Eddie, Bobby.

And he hasn't talked to any of them. And he's stewing, trying to figure out WHY, because he's always been supportive, so why should he feel any different when he's on the other side of it.

He goes to Maddie and pushes his "I've always supported the gays" agenda AGAIN and Maddie has to parse the details, gently shove Buck in the right direction - well, if you're MORE than an ally now, that could be something that is preventing you from telling your best friend the truth, let's explore that some more.

It takes him two tries with Eddie, and maybe it's the setting (why would you think it was a good idea to come out in the middle of the station, Evan Buckley, supportive ally or no that's not exactly gonna put you in your comfort zone, c'mon) or maybe he just needs to work his way up to it because Eddie is obviously Preoccupied. But he almost lets the moment pass, again, at home, in his own space, bc Eddie is still Preoccupied. But -- but he doesn't WANT to, because they are talking about their love lives and Buck wants Eddie to be an active participant in his thought process just like he always is.

We were on a date, he says, and Eddie takes a second to process. Which. Fair. Buck had leaned against his kitchen island for like ten minutes after Tommy left, that night after he kissed him. Eddie prompts him to repeat it, and it doesn't suck, actually, it feels like a weight lifting off his chest -- "Is that weird?" -- but of course Eddie doesn't find it weird, he just didn't KNOW (so many pieces of the puzzle fall into place for Eddie, holy shit his best friend maimed him because he had a crush on their new friend, holy shit had Tommy been slyly pumping his son for information because HE had a crush too???).

And suddenly Buck is absolutely free to bitch about his love life again, and Eddie is there to give him advice and be fully in his corner and Buck has exactly what he needs to go Full Buck. He's got his sister, and his best friend, and maybe he actually doesn't need Bobby this time because it feels right to call Tommy up and set up a meeting for coffee.

No longer bogged down by "well I'm an ally why couldn't I have been chill about being on a date with a dude" - he can text Maddie that night and be like "Hey is Tommy already invited to the wedding?" and grin when she texts back "Buck what does this mean" and send back "You said you wanted to meet him".

With Eddie's support and his "well then he's an idiot", Buck has the time to mull over what he wants to say, what Tommy makes him feel, what he would want if Tommy was willing to give him another chance. He doesn't want it to be one failed date, he doesn't want to hide Tommy away, he wants something real and something true and something he can share with his family and friends and he thinks maybe Tommy could want that, too.

[jennarations]

Landoscar drabble with the prompt combo:

“Omegaverse” + “Do you want me to stay?”

forty minute sprint with my tsgc babes :)

1k under the cut!

The first time Oscar meets his new PR handler he falls for him. Literally.

The man, slight framed but with miles of toned muscle and fistfuls of curls atop his head, has Oscar so dazed that he misses the last step up into the motorhome and falls headfirst into the floor.

But then he’s grabbing at Oscar’s arms, apologizing and pulling him to his feet. The smell of ocean water and fresh cherries fills his nostrils and Oscar has to hold himself back from gulping in that delightful scent.

“I hope you’re usually more coordinated than this?” The man barks out softly as he’s steadying Oscar against the doorframe.

Oscar nods in a hopefully convincing manner and feels a laugh bubble out of him.

—

Oscar hides his underlying attraction fairly well over the next few months, holding back from trying to scent his PR handler in the middle of the paddock, not only for his own sake but for Lando’s.

He and Lando have become friends, he thinks. Hopes.

While they maintain a very professional working relationship, he likes that when they leave the paddock or even just duck into his driver’s room, the professional facade melts off of Lando and he seems much more lax.

“But like. Mcdonald’s is just objectively better than Burger King.” Lando says, lounging the length of Oscar’s bed.

Oscar strides out of the bathroom, toweling his hair ferociously. “Agree to disagree. How about we get Burger King this time and then Mcdonald’s in Singapore?”

Lando mulls this over in his head for a moment before lolling his head lazily towards Oscar. “Only if you’re paying.” He smiles, flashing his canines in the low light of the hotel room.

Oscar pushes down at the heat in his stomach and hitches a shuddering breath. “Sure. But it’s coming out of your paycheck.”

Lando squawks and throws himself into an upright position. “You wouldn’t.”

Oscar bites his lip. “Nah, I wouldn’t.”

—

The thing about having omegas in the paddock is that they usually have to wear scent blockers. It’s an old fashioned mindset and Oscar rolls his eyes whenever he thinks of those kinds of rules, but there’s nothing really to be done about it.

The thing with Lando is, even through scent blockers, Oscar can smell him a mile away.

So the moment that Oscar smells Lando’s usual sweet and salty scent flooded with fear, his body is tense and he feels dread pour into his posture.

He stands from the table he’s sitting at with several engineers, forcefully enough that his chair is sent careening backwards.

Oscar is pushing away from the table and catapulting himself out of the motorhome before any of the engineers can even get a word out of him.

All he smells is Lando’s fear. His body feels like it’s on fire and his heart clenches horribly in his chest. He’s pushing through throngs of people in the street outside the motorhomes searching, desperately, for that familiar mop of curls.

When he thinks his heart is about to leap out of his chest, Oscar turns to find Lando trying to push away from an unfamiliar man. An unfamiliar alpha.

Oscar has no idea he’s growling until both men turn to him with big, owlish eyes.

The other alpha flashes his canines at Oscar and tightens his hold over Lando’s arm. Oscar feels a wave of anger overwhelm his system and for a minute he completely short circuits.

He’s against Lando, shielding him with his body and pushing himself between the two. The alpha seems to finally recognize where he is, and who he’s posturing at and releases Lando’s arm. The man blinks several times, taking in a breath, before angrily stomping away.

Oscar turns slowly, and while coming down from the high of adrenaline, he expects Lando to be upset with him, yell at him, tell him that he could take care of himself, because he could. It’s not Oscar’s place even slightly to just assume that he should step into Lando’s business.

But what he finds, however, is Lando gently snaking his arms around Oscar’s neck, pressing himself into Oscar’s space. And Oscar is a weak man. So he winds his own arms around Lando’s waist and tugs him in closer, placing his head over Lando’s shoulder.

Oscar doesn’t realize he’s scenting Lando in the middle of the paddock until there’s a million photos of it flooding twitter later that day.

Scenting Lando was certainly not his smartest move, but what he finds intermingling with Lando’s scent certainly overpowers any care about those pictures.

There’s a second, lighter scent, starting to form there.

—

Oscar threatens to quit the following day.

He stands in front of Zak Brown, and threatens to leave and go straight to the other competitors that have been courting him for months.

The reason? The PR team thought it would be better to fire the pregnant omega that went viral on twitter for hugging their star driver.

Zak has Lando reinstated almost immediately.

—

“Sorry you almost got fired.”

“Sorry I made you go viral on twitter.”

Oscar scratches his head and settles in closer next to Lando on the hotel bed. “It’s okay. It’s not the first time.”

Lando shifts and punches Oscar’s shoulder the tiniest bit, giving him a tired smile.

Oscar feels himself mirror that smile but then his heart plummets into his stomach.

“So. About your scent. The other day.” Oscar starts, unsure where to take the conversation from there.

Lando squishes further into Oscar’s side. “Yeah.” He gets out shakily. “I know.”

Oscar picks at his nails. “Was it? I mean, did you want this?”

Lando snorts. “Did I seem like I was thrilled to be telling that guy from the other day?”

Oscar hums thoughtfully. “I can make sure you never have to see him again.”

Lando rubs a circle into Oscar’s wrist, mindlessly pulling the offending hand away from the other one.

“I don’t know what I’ll do.” Lando says quietly, a little broken sob escaping.

Oscar thinks for a moment. He takes in Lando’s now familiar scent of salt and cherries, noting the slight little change which he registers is now the baby’s forming scent.

“Do you want me to stay?” Oscar offers, turning so he’s looking at Lando.

Lando blinks the wetness out of his eyes, “Would it be selfish if I said yes?”

Oscar simply brushes the hair off of Lando’s forehead and kisses it softly.

“Not at all. You got me for as long as you want me.”

[deathbxnny]

HI BXNNY MY LOVEEEE

hehe I'm here another time with a platonic pairing~

Once again with a fem, little sister child! reader but this time it's not a specific scenario like my recent request for Aventurine, just headcanons with Argenti (never seen you write for my man? Idk if you write him, feel free to ignore him or add another character if you don't ♡) Jing Yuan and Dr. Ratio?

TAKE CARE OF URSELFF💕💐🌻

Hey there, dear moot!! This is such a cute idea, and I'd LOVE to write for Argenti, so thank you for including him!!<3

Content: Reader is a child, fluff, unserious, big brother characters, platonic relationships, slight angst, sfw

Reader is afab here!!

((Not proofread))

》ARGENTI

Argenti saw you as a blessing from Idrila, something he was very vocal about to everyone and especially his little sister. He spoils you greatly and has an inability to say no to you. However, he often still wonders if it is right to bring you along on his journey through the cosmos in search of his lost Aeon. He knows it's dangerous and most likely could cause his death one day... but he still can't find himself leaving you behind.

Since he is such a strict believer of Idrila, you ofcourse begin to mimic his devotion in your behavior, something that means way more than words could describe to him. His heart swells with pride when he sees you recite the prayers and praises or dress the way he does. It makes his worries and doubts melt away.

With that said, you truly have him wrapped around your little fingers, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

》DR. VERITAS RATIO

His expectations for you were high and perhaps even stressful at times. He wanted you to be the best, to exceed him in ways not even he ever could. Ratio believed that what he was doing was for your own good, for your own perfect future... which, however, unfortunately meant that he often times forgot that you were still simply a child. This, in turn, just means that he'll self-reflect often and try and give you more breaks in-between classes and studying whenever you need them.

With that said, he is a busy professor and scholar, which often leads him to not be home as much as you want him to. He tries his best to find some time to spend with you however when he is home, although that's usually spent either reading books or listening to long lectures from him. He thinks that that is great bonding time for the both of you.

Ratio may not be very vocal or open about his love for his little sister, but it's obvious with how much he cares for your well-being and future, even when he can come off as mean or harsh at times. He wants you to have a good life without him one day and will make sure you're prepared for it.

》JING YUAN

Jing Yuan adores you greatly and doesn't shy away from spoiling you with anything you want. He often gets accused of perhaps spoiling you even a little too much from Fu Xuan, but he simply waves it off with no concern. You deserve way more than he can offer you, after all.

With that said, Yanqing is indeed your designated babysitter, much to the boy's annoyance at times. On one hand, it's because Jing Yuan trusts him way more than anyone else with you... and on the other, he knows that the blonde will learn to behave himself and slow down better with you around. Or so he thinks, at first. Once you're old enough to become best of friends with him, the days of your mischievous pranks on the general start, mainly out of spite.

Jing Yuan finds it cute and amusing until he's dowsed in water as you both run away laughing hysterically. Maybe Fu Xuan was right...

Alrightttt... I hope this was okay, dear moot!! Thank you again for the request!!<33

[gatorbites-imagines]

Can you write jason todd with ftm reader where he defends him from transphobia in public? I need my big beefy boyfriend to beat up transphobes for me pls. Thanks and happy pride ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

Jason Todd x FTM reader

Headcanons

idc what anyone says, gotham knights Jason is beautiful to me

Hallo zusammen. Happy pride. My teacher decided last second to change everything about my next exam, so ive been stressing. So to make myself feel better, here’s some Jason going to pride with his BF.

As much as Gotham is a shithole filled to the gills with crime, its got a large demographic of LGBT. Even the heroes and villains are somewhere on that spectrum, which also means none of them target the local pride parades.

But like any pride parade, there are bigots at the sidelines. Now, Gothamites don’t do stupid well, so most are sent packing before they can even start up with their usual theatrics. Are you gonna yell homophobic slurs at poison ivy? Or when Killer Croc is walking by wearing rainbow streamers?

That doesn’t mean there aren’t stupid that sticks around. They are rarely locals, since even the most hateful locals know not to be dumb enough to cause a ruckus the one place the villains and vigilantes get along and have the same goal.

Not every hero was suited up though, seeing as you and Jason were walking side by side along with everyone else. Jason was wearing a less flashy outfit, mainly because he doesn’t do bright colors too much, but your sexuality and gender were more out in the open.

At least obvious enough for some hateful person to spot that you’re trans. And since you look like an easy target, amongst Gothamites at least, they decide to focus on you with their hateful rhetoric.

Insults weren’t anything new slung around Gotham, a city where you would get called a bad nickname more than your actual name. but it was never focused on something like your gender, your sexuality, or your race. It would be something like the fact that you wore ugly shoes, or that you ate weird.

which was why it catching the attention of more than just your boyfriend when the transphobic slurs get thrown at you. Apparently, you freezing up at the slurs seem like a win to these people, as they start yelling and jeering at you even more.

 Surprisingly it isn’t Jason that throws the first punch. Its some random chick wearing a lesbian flag over her shoulders and purple ladder laced boots. Her punch seems to unleash what everyone had been holding in, not wanting to give these bigots any attention.

Jason gets his own punches in of course, specifically targeting the people that had been yelling slurs at you. And as much as you hate this city sometimes, seeing people from all across the board come together to beat up bigots seems like its as unified as Gotham is ever gonna get.

Some other people wearing pride flags or colors come to check up on you, but you are honestly too busy watching Jason throw a guy with an offensive sign across the pavement.

The other people nod approvingly at your boyfriend. Fun to think Jason, the most Gotham guy you know, gets the approval from the Gotham gays.

When Jason comes back, he’s still jittery, his blood clearly rushing from the confrontation, but a couple of kisses and thank you gets him to settle down for the most part. He ends up more colorful than he would like, being given flower crowns and different lanyards and sashes. But hearing you laugh is enough to make him put up with it.

And if you’re wondering where the heroes were? Well, they just happen to have been busy with something else, even if Red Robin had been sitting on the ledge of a building, wearing his own pride flag the entire time.

You and Jason can both tell he won’t hear the end of this when you guys get home later. At the end of the day, the hateful speech doesn’t weigh too much on you, knowing that not just Jason, but Gotham as a whole, would chew up and spit anyone out who tried it.

[krirebr]

More Than This 6

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~3.4k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, the threat of Linda, explicit language, panic & anxiety, my own rampant abuse of italics, the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Well. Here we go. Things are coming to a head now.

Permanent thanks, as always, to @paperweight91 who lets me talk her ear off about this and always has the best input.

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too!

As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You sat on the closed toilet seat in Ransom’s ensuite, your knees pulled up to your chest, as you watched the seconds on the timer tick by, Linda’s gift bag sitting right beside the under-the-sink cabinet you’d pulled it out of. This time would be different, you told yourself. It wouldn’t be the same result as the last three tests you took. It couldn’t. It couldn’t. 

Your phone buzzed and you turned the timer off as you closed your eyes tight. Please please please, you chanted to yourself. After forcing yourself to breathe, you opened your eyes and picked up the test off the counter. Pregnant said the easy-read display. Just like the others. Shit.

This was what you wanted. You knew that. But– But you were stupid. You were so fucking stupid. You were so focused on getting pregnant that you’d forced yourself to forget about what would come when you actually were – a baby. You and Ransom were going to have a baby. You were fully trapped now. Completely fucked. This had cemented the rest of your life, no way out.

And the same for this poor baby you carried inside of you. A childhood just like yours. The same future too. You cradled your stomach even knowing there was barely anything there yet. 

You wandered into the hall. You wondered where you would even put a baby as you looked across at the home gym you'd never seen Ransom use. His study. The storage rooms. You tried to imagine a little kid running around in this house. You couldn’t. You couldn’t picture a single moment of your future beyond this day. It terrified you.

The rest of the day passed in a haze before Ransom came home at his usual time. You froze at the sight of him, just staring as he bent down to pat Lola and tell her hello as she yipped excitedly at him. He turned to you and his brow furrowed. Oh god. Could he tell? Could he see it on you? You opened your mouth to tell him. You had to tell him. But no words came out. After gaping at him for who knows how long, while his brow just got more and more furrowed, you asked “Are you hungry?” and moved into the kitchen without waiting for a response. You had no idea how he’d react. 

Would he be happy you’d finally fulfilled your purpose? Angry because he’d never wanted a kid to begin with? Or maybe he did want a kid, he just didn’t want one with you? Maybe that didn’t matter. Maybe you didn’t even factor into this equation. Maybe the kid would be good enough on it’s own. That might be the best outcome you could hope for. That thought terrified you just as much as the others.

You pulled two of the premade meals out of the fridge. You hadn’t tried to make dinner again since your disastrous first attempt. You thought of your kid. Eating the housekeeper’s meals, being taken care of by a nanny, driven around by a chauffeur, while you just faded away into the background.

Ransom calling your name brought you back to the present. He was just on the other side of the kitchen island from you now. “Are you okay?” he asked, and you couldn’t tell if it was concern or annoyance in his tone.

Tell him tell him tell him. You had to. You knew you had to. But. You couldn’t right now. It wasn’t the right time. You’d come up with a plan. The right way to do it. That’s what you needed. You forced a benign smile. “I’m fine,” you said. 

Something passed over his features. Frustration, maybe. But what did he have to be frustrated by? You were doing what he wanted. Making yourself as small as possible, doing everything you could not to intrude on his life. 

He just stared at you as you plated a meal for him and put it in the microwave. He looked at you as if there was something to decode. The more he stared, the more afraid you became that he’d be able to ferret out your secret. Not yet. Please not yet. It wasn’t the right time. “Actually,” you said, as you took his dinner out of the microwave and replaced it with your own, “I’m not feeling great. I think I’m just going to take this upstairs with me and maybe read until I fall asleep. Don’t bother waking me if I’m sleeping when you come up. Think I just need to sleep off whatever this is.” You were babbling. You knew it. You needed to get out of this room.

“Are you ok?” He asked. “Do you need anything?”

“No, no,” You said, taking your plate out as soon as the microwave beeped, not bothering to check if it was truly done. “I’m fine. Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t fix, I’m sure. Goodnight.” Then you fled upstairs, not looking back.

You spent the next day trying to pretend like everything was normal. You read one of Harlan’s books, you took Lola for a long walk, you hid from Carol. Everything was fine.

Late in the afternoon, you got a text from Ransom.

How are you feeling?

You stared at it, confused. He didn’t know. He couldn’t. You hadn’t told him. What was– Oh! Last night you’d told him you were sick. Right.

I’m feeling much better. Thank you.

A few minutes later your phone dinged again.  

Ok. My parents want to take us to dinner. I’ll be home around 6 and we’ll go right to the restaurant.

You looked at the time. That was less than two hours from now. Less than two hours to get ready for Linda. That– that was not enough time. You tried to push down the panic building in your chest. This was fine. You’d just start getting ready now. It was fine.

  You went into Ransom’s bathroom and started doing your makeup. It was fine. Your hand only shook a little. 

When that was done, you went into the closet. All you had to do was pick an outfit. You could do that.

But as you rifled through the closet, the panic you’d tried so hard to shove deep down came back. Not only that, it grew. You didn’t know how you were supposed to pick something to wear when you didn’t know what Linda wanted. But if you didn’t get it right, she would look at you and she would say something. And she would hate you even more. But every time you thought you might have found something that would please her, you became overcome with worry over what Richard might think – if it showed too much chest, or too much leg, or too much neck or maybe it highlighted your ass and he would take it as an invitation. It was too much. You sank down to the floor, surrounded by all the clothes you’d pulled off hangers. You were paralyzed. There was no option that wouldn’t get you in trouble, wouldn’t cause problems.

You didn’t even realize Ransom was home until he was in the closet too, standing over you, with an impatient scowl on his face. “Are you fucking kidding me? Why aren’t you ready? We have to go! Linda’s gonna lose her shit if we’re late for the reservation. Get up and get fucking dressed already.”

You looked up at him, at the way he was glaring at you, and suddenly you just couldn’t hold it in anymore. None of it. Not a single thing. 

“Then tell me what to wear!” you yelled, and Ransom took a step back, surprised. “Because none of this is going to be good enough! Not for your mom, who hates me. Or your dad who looks at me, and– and– And you! I have no fucking idea what you want. I can’t figure it out! But I’m here. I have to be here. And I have to do what you want, but I don’t know what that is because you won’t tell me! I only know what you don’t want. You don’t want me to cook and you don’t want to fuck me and you don’t want me to work! And I really don’t understand that one because you told me I could but then you sicced your mother on me–”

“Wait, what?” Ransome tried to interrupt. “What did–”

You barely even noticed he’d said anything, too much on a roll now to even think about stopping. “And you don’t want me to leave! You keep me locked up here, stranded and I think I’m starting to lose my mind. I don’t– I don’t have anything to do or anyone to talk to! Steve is too busy for me and that’s probably good because your mom is sure we’re fucking, so I probably shouldn’t talk to him anymore anyway. But I miss him. He’s the only one who cares about me. I’m so alone. And even Lola loves you now. I don’t have anyone or anything! And I know, I know I’m supposed to make you happy. I know that’s what I’m for now, but I don’t know how! You don’t want me. You don’t want me here but you won’t let me leave. And now I’m pregnant! And I’m stuck. This is just my life now, the way it’ll always be and I–” 

A hand on your wrist shocked you back into the room, into the present, where Ransom was crouching down in front of you, eyes wide. “You’re pregnant?” he breathed. 

You froze. Oh god, had you said that? You didn’t really remember. You barely remembered anything you’d just said. It’d all come tumbling out of you without much conscious thought. But as he stared at you, you knew that you must have. You locked eyes with him for what might have been just a moment or an entire age. And then suddenly, this, fucking everything, was too much for you and you bolted.

Up and out of the closet, out of the bedroom, and into the hall. You looked around wildly. You didn’t have anywhere to go. You heard Ransom start to move, so you ducked through the nearest doorway, into his gym, slamming the door and locking it behind you. You paced around the room, wringing your hands. What the fuck had you done? Why had you said all that? You were just so tired. You’d been so tired since that day in Joseph’s office. You just couldn’t muster the energy to keep everything inside anymore.

A knock came at the door and you froze. Ransom called your name gently, but you couldn’t say anything. He called it again, a little louder, but you still kept quiet. The doorknob rattled as he tried to get in. You backed up, still feeling the urge to run but there was nowhere to go. Your back hit the far wall and you slid down it.

“I just–” he started through the door, “you don’t have to talk to me. I just– I just need to know that you’re ok.” It was his tone that surprised you more than his words. He sounded– you weren’t sure how he sounded, honestly. Wrecked, maybe, if that wasn’t so fucking ridiculous. “Can you at least tell me you aren’t having a panic attack? I’m–” You swore you could hear him grinding his teeth. “I’m worried.”

You gaped at the door for a moment, then forced out, “I’m not having a panic attack,” just loud enough to travel through the wood. 

“You’re sure? Your breathing’s normal?”

“Yeah,” you said, hunched over by the wall now.

You heard him let out a deep breath. “Ok, good, that’s good. Uh, will you please come out? I’d really like to talk to you.”

You were shaking your head before he finished speaking, your stomach clenching in fear. You couldn’t face him. Not yet. Not ever, a voice inside you whispered. That wouldn’t be possible, you knew. But you’d hold off as long as you possibly could. “No,” you finally said out loud, your voice unsteady. 

There was just silence at first. It stretched on. Then, finally, you heard him move away from the door and down the stairs. You took a slow, deep breath. Then another and another. You stood up and started moving again. Around and around the room. You were so relieved he was gone but you were terrified of where he might be going, what he might be doing. How he might feel. How angry was he? And was he just upset about the outburst or was he mad about the baby? He’d never been an enthusiastic participant in the making of it, just doing what he had to. This baby wasn’t his choice, it’d been pushed on him, just like you were pushed on him. Of course he resented you. And he’d resent your child, your family. A whole life he never wanted. 

You cradled your stomach as you crumpled down to the floor. This poor baby. Parents who barely spoke, a mother who was only ever sad. Tears slid down your cheeks. History just kept repeating. Over and over again. There’d never been anything you could do to stop it. 

Your pathetic spiral was interrupted by a scratching at the door. Then a huff and then whimpers. Lola. You started to get up, move towards the door, but then you stopped. Opening that door felt insurmountable. Like it would destroy any small modicum of safety you currently felt. Like everything outside, everything you were scared of would come crashing in. You couldn’t do it. Even for Lola, you couldn’t do it.

You heard footsteps on the stairs again and you pushed yourself into the wall. You heard him stop in front of the door and then say, so softly you could barely hear it, “Hey, Lola, she just needs some time alone right now. It’ll be okay. Come on, let’s go downstairs.” Then there was more movement – was he picking her up? – and footsteps on the stairs again.

You couldn’t explain why that made you so angry, but– He hated dogs! He’d told you! And now he was comforting Lola? Gently picking her up? Taking her from you? He didn’t make any sense. He’d constantly say one thing then do the opposite. The only consistent thing about him seemed to be that he didn’t want you, didn’t like you, didn’t need you here. Maybe once the baby was born, he’d send you both away. Maybe that’d be a good thing. Maybe that was the best you could hope for.

You didn’t know how much time had passed before there was a soft knock on the door. Ransom’s voice came through. “Can you let Lola in? She’s freaking out. You can stay in there, I just– She needs you.”

You moved towards the door. “I– She can come in, but I don’t want to talk,” you said. 

“Yeah,” he muttered, “you’ve made that clear.”

Then there was more shuffling before you heard him walk away. You just stood there until there was a desperate little scratch at the bottom of the door. You unlocked and opened it quickly, just enough to let her in, then closed and locked it behind her. She immediately jumped on you, torn between her excitement at seeing you and her annoyance that she’d been shut out to begin with.

You picked her up. “I’m so sorry baby,” you whispered. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

You didn’t know if that was true. You held her close as you went back to pacing. What were you doing? You were being childish, probably. Hiding from your problems. It wouldn’t be so bad, maybe, if you weren’t so fucking alone. You got out your phone and without thinking texted Steve

I really hate that you’re so far away.

You stared at it for a few moments but the little checkmark that showed he’d read it never appeared. That was fine. Working still probably. Or at an important dinner or event. He had his own life to lead. You couldn’t expect him to always have time for you.

Another knock on the door. You looked up with a sharp “What?” Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?

“Are you planning on coming to bed tonight?” he asked through the door.

“No,” you said, voice much more firm than you felt.

“What?! You’re just gonna sleep on the floor between my weights?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s exactly what I’m gonna do.”

“Oh my god,” he grumbled. “You can’t sleep on the floor!”

“I’m fine, Ransom,” you growled.

“Fucking ridiculous,” he muttered to himself, but loud enough for you to still hear him, before he stomped down the stairs. 

You rolled your eyes and checked your phone. Still no response from Steve. It was fine it was fine. 

He came back up, his gait significantly slower and uneven, and dropped something in front of the door, which hit the floor with a muted ‘oomph.’ Then he was stomping down the stairs again. You froze, staring at the door, your curiosity warring with your fear. What the fuck was he doing?

He came back up, adding something to his pile with a faint ‘tink.’ “You can’t fucking sleep on the floor,” he growled, then thundered into his room across the hall and slammed the door.

You counted to thirty before you were brave enough to open the door. Stacked just to the side in the hallway was a collection of cushions and blankets, along with your pillow and Lola’s favorite blanket. Carefully placed on top of all that was one of Carol’s dinners with utensils and a bottle of water. You just blinked at it all for a moment, before lugging everything into the room. 

You sat down to eat first. You’d been so stressed and anxious you hadn’t even realized you skipped dinne– Oh fucking shit. Dinner. With Ransom’s parents. Well, if Linda hadn’t hated you already, she certainly did now. You wondered what he’d told her. That you were crazy. Ridiculous. A child. Had he told her you were pregnant? If you’d been able to tell her yourself, under better circumstances, would it make her like you more? 

You put the plate aside. You weren’t very hungry.

Next was making space for you to sleep. It took you a while. Neither the stationary bike nor the treadmill would budge. You didn’t even try the rowing machine. So it was just moving his weights out of the way, which you did one by one with both hands, trying to shoo Lola out of the way when she insisted on being underfoot. When you were done, you sat down against the wall for a moment, trying to catch your breath, before arranging all the cushions and blankets into something you’d be able to sleep on.

You looked around. He never fucking used this gym. You were sure it’d be covered in dust if Carol didn’t clean it every week. He had all these rooms you’d never seen him enter, let alone use, while you had absolutely nothing. Well. Fuck that. Fuck him.

You pulled out your phone and hurriedly typed out an email to the manager of your storage unit. Your bedroom furniture was just languishing in LA, while all these rooms went unused. Well, you were done with that. You’d done your job. Your goals were accomplished. You were pregnant. There was no reason to share a room with him anymore. He’d be relieved too, you were sure of it.

As you unfolded all the blankets, you also found your comfiest pair of pajamas. You changed into them, knowing it was just a coincidence, that they must have been the first pair he’d found in your drawer, but you still appreciated it. As odd as it felt to appreciate anything from him, especially now. 

You sank down onto the cushions. It was early still, but you were exhausted. You hoped that you might sleep, even though you were terrified of what the next day might bring.

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