#please my cramps are already there and it hasn’t even started yet

[littlexdeaths]

eddie munson x plus size reader

warnings: angst, allusions to smut, major body insecurities, troubles orgasming due to said insecurities, eddie is so incredibly sweet, oral (fem receiving)

a/n: this started out as just a little angsty thing cause i was in my feelings, but it quickly spiraled into something more. while i feel a little nervous sharing it because it directly mirrors my own experience with intimacy issues and self esteem, i hope it can maybe help someone who has felt this same way <3

“— just stop, eds. it’s clearly not gonna happen.”

he can hear the disappointment in your voice as you tug his hand out of your panties. willing away the tears that threaten to spill past your lash line.

you swear something’s wrong with you.

he’s been at this for well over an hour, having to take multiple breaks from when his fingers started to cramp up. your clit feels almost raw, yet numb to the touch. the constant circles he was rubbing against it left you with nothing but discomfort.

“sweetheart—” he whispers, brushing your hair back from your face.

but you quickly bury your face into the pillow, the sheer humiliation makes you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole. you already know what he’s going to say, he’s said it more times than you can count.

“save it, please. i don’t want your pity,” your words are slightly muffled, but he hears them loud and clear.

so he stays silent, keeping his chest pressed into your back. he rubs soothing circles over the curve of your hip while you soak his pillow with your tears. each silent shake of your shoulders twists the knife deeper into his gut.

why he hasn’t left is beyond you— anyone else would have.

not only is he stuck with a girlfriend who can’t take her clothes off in front of him, he’s stuck with one who can’t finish either. you can’t imagine how frustrating that must be.

“why are you even still here?” you sniffle, feeling his body stiffen behind you. “this can’t be fun for you.”

he doesn’t answer you, instead moving from his position behind you to roll you onto your back before he slots himself between your thick thighs. and even in the dark of his room you can see how your words have upset him.

“— i’m here because i love you.” he asserts, calloused fingers catching your chin to keep your gaze level with his. “i stay despite how much you continually try to push me away, because you’re everything to me.”

and he catches some more tears that trickle down your cheeks with his thumb. he unintentionally swipes them over your lips and they taste almost bitter on your tongue when you take a shuddering breath in.

“i just.. i feel like this is too good to be true— that you’re too good to be true.” you voice is barely above a whisper now, “that once you see everything… you’ll change your mind.”

his eyes slip shut and an almost painful look crosses over his features.

“baby,” he sighs, carefully taking your hand to guide it up his bare torso. you can feel the uneven flesh beneath your fingertips, a reminder that you almost lost him not so long ago. “you could grow a third head and sprout a tail and i would love you just the same.”

that image has you giggling softly, the sound causing his eyes to flutter back open. eddie grins down at you, bringing your hand up to press a gentle kiss to the back of it.

“there’s my girl,” he hums.

and despite the worry that still lingers in the back of your head, your body automatically reacts to his gentle words. you shift your hips beneath his own, now acutely aware of how uncomfortable the damp cotton feels against your skin.

eddie can see that spark of need return to your eyes, his head tilting down to nudge your nose with his own. he inhales your soft gasp when he carefully presses his hips down into yours.

“can i try something? if you don’t like it, i promise we can stop.”

he waits before making another move, lips hovering over yours until he hears your soft confirmation. then he starts to descend lower.

his lips press against the cotton of your sleep shirt, across the soft pudge of your belly. and you hold you breath when his fingers graze over the hem of it, slowly beginning to push it up your plush thighs.

“eddie i—”

he must hear the alarm in your voice as he stops, warm eyes gazing up at you from where he’s positioned between your legs.

“do you want me to stop?” he asks.

the small shake of your head encourages him to continue, pushing the shirt up only until he can see the outline of your panties.

“we’ll keep this on, okay?” he motions to your shirt.

“okay,” you breathe.

you feel your body is on fire, every nerve ending like a live wire. and you practically jolt when you feel his lips press against your damp underwear, his tongue licking a slow stripe between your clothed folds.

“oh,” you sigh and you can feel his deep chuckle rumble against your core.

so he does it again, enjoying the breathy whine that tumbles past your lips. eddie’s fingers slide up your thighs, sneaking underneath the elastic of your underwear as he continues his actions. going slow enough to get you used to the feeling, but firm enough so you feel each drag of his tongue.

after your first failed attempt from earlier you feel ravenous, now bucking your hips up against his mouth. and your boyfriend seems to get the hint.

“you want them off, sweetheart?”

and you nod almost frantically, any feelings of insecurity pushed to the wayside as your desire slams back into you at full force.

not needing to be told again, eddie carefully guides the fabric down your thighs. tossing them next to you on the bed before he coaxes your legs to rest on his shoulders. even in the dark he can see the curly hairs that cover your mound and the sticky strings of desire when he guides your folds apart with his fingers.

you hear a soft curse leave his mouth, his hair tickling your inner thighs when he leans down further to guide his tongue through your slick.

“so fuckin’ pretty, baby.” he coos.

you gasp aloud at the sensation when the muscle delves deeper, dipping inside your entrance before dragging more slick up to your sensitive nub.

everything feels more heightened like this— more intimate. and you swear you’re more in love with him now than you ever been.

so you let your body sink further into the mattress while he tastes you properly for the first time. his own hips rutting against the bed in tandem with each glide of his tongue. the noises he’s making are downright filthy, the vibrations only aiding in bringing you closer to that release.

it’s right within your grasp, all you have to do is reach out and take it.

the edges of your vision start to blur while your fingers card themselves through his curls to hold him in place. and that wave that’s been building up inside you finally crashes over the surface.

your shaky cry of his name has him moaning into you, his hips twitching as he spills into the fabric of his boxers. and he doesn’t mind when your trembling thighs tighten around his head, keeping him locked into place between your hips.

not that eddie would ever complain.

you finally release him when the feeling becomes too much, thighs settling onto the bed when you tug at his curls. he lifts his head then, eyes mirroring your half lidded gaze. his slick-smeared lips shine in the moonlight that streams through his bedroom window and you feel another rush of emotion flow through you.

“thank you,” you whisper, voice cracking.

he brings your knuckles back to his lips, pressing a wet kiss onto each one. satisfied with his work, eddie crawls back up your body, pressing tender kisses until he reaches your lips. you wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him even closer when your mouth do meet.

but that’s when you feel it. the warm, sticky mess that has soaked into his boxers and smeared across his hairy thighs.

“did you just— ?” you ask in almost disbelief, wide eyes meeting his own when he pulls back to give you a cheeky grin.

another gentle roll of his hips has you gasping aloud, the action pressing his mess further into your own as he chuckles deeply.

“damn right, i did.”

[jimmypesto]

Rushed kisses with bob/linda

bob and linda + rushed kiss :)

“Bobby? You have eyes on Tina, hon?” Linda asks, the bell above the door sounding off as she enters the restaurant. 

Tina is a safe distance from the grill, sitting in a highchair and quietly mashing a handful of peas in her palm. When Bob sticks his tongue out at her, she shrieks with laughter. 

Though it’s only just noon, the day has already been filled with chaos. Gene, who seems much louder than Tina was at his age, has been subjecting the family to intermittent tantrums since he woke up.

“Tina’s right here, Lin.” Bob says offhandedly, most of his focus still on cooking. “Is Gene still grumpy?” 

Linda rolls her eyes. 

“Nope.” 

She pitches up into a baby voice, shaking her head at Gene. 

“You just needed some lunch, right baby? Do you love to ruin mommy’s nipples? Yes, you do!” 

Bob checks the customer sitting at the bar for a displeased reaction, but the man doesn’t seem invested in the family’s conversation. Bob grimaces apologetically. 

“Sorry, sir.” He says. “My wife is…breastfeeding. Sorry. I don’t know why I said that. Please don’t leave.”

Luckily, the man only raises his eyebrows before returning to his meal. Linda waves excitedly at him, walking backwards in the direction of the kitchen. 

“Hiii! Breastfeeding! Good thing this one doesn’t have teeth yet, right? Ha!”

Listening to her characteristic goofiness, it occurs to Bob that he hasn’t gotten a moment alone with Linda all morning. During morning nap time, he came downstairs to prep for lunch while Linda listened for the kids. He looks to she and the baby as they join him in the cramped kitchen, a smidgen of longing creeping into his chest. Is it normal to miss someone who he’s technically with right now? 

In the madness of a growing family, Bob sometimes finds himself selfishly craving Linda’s attention. He needs her to talk him down, when he gets stressed. He relies on her for laughter and comfort. 

“Hi buddy.” He says, pushing down his anxiety as he runs a hand over his son’s head. 

“Hi, my teeny Tina!” Linda says at almost the exact same time. “Did daddy give you lunch? Yummy peas?” 

With Gene still on her hip, Linda slowly maneuvers an apron around her waist.

“What should I do, Bobby?” She asks. “Do we need some onions on deck? I can chop. Kinda. Maybe.” 

“Mm. Maybe not with our baby in your arms, please. Can you get that spill by the register, actually? I haven’t gotten to it yet, and the lunch rush should be starting any minute.” 

Linda nods, always ready to help, but her departure is quickly interrupted. Before her mom can disappear again, Tina cries out from the highchair. 

“Kiss!” She says. 

Bob and Linda exchange a glance. 

“What, baby?” Linda asks, one hand already on the door. “You need a kiss, sweetie?” 

With a firmness she doesn’t usually possess, the toddler speaks again. 

“No!” She says. “Daddy kiss! Say bye.” 

Bob catches onto her point, before Linda does. Tina is big on love and affection, and any apparent absence of those things tends to freak her out.

“Ohh.” Bob says knowingly. “She wants me to kiss you goodbye, Lin. We’ve been rushing around so much this morning. She probably hasn’t seen us do that yet.” 

Linda laughs, tickled by Tina’s precociousness. 

“Is that it, baby? Don’t worry. Daddy still likes to kiss me, I think. C’mere, Bobby. Quick one.” 

Bob looks up from the grill just long enough to give her a quick peck: the kind Tina looks for when one of her parents leaves for the grocery store or heads to bed early. Linda smiles, which makes Bob smile, and it probably barely counts as a kiss. 

“Good, Tina?” Bob asks, when it’s over. 

The toddler claps her hands, making an even bigger mess of her peas. 

“Yay!” 

As Linda scurries from the kitchen with another laugh, Bob’s eyes stay trained on Tina. Now that he’s kissed his wife for the first time  all morning, he feels recharged. It’s almost like Tina knew, somehow, that he needed a kiss from Linda to start his day. 

“You’re smart, aren’t you, Tina?” He asks, pride in his voice. “Daddy’s smart girl.” 

[buttermynutter]

A Favor or Two | Viktor x Reader

Part of the Back of the Class one-shot collection!

Summary: Viktor and you certainly aren't the favorites of the academy professor, but it's clear you're each other's.

Word count: 1,796

Warnings: None

━━━━━━━━━━━━

For such a normally unassuming person, Viktor most definitely took advantage of the academy’s history class.

To the two of you, it was both the dullest and the least useful of all the courses. Instead of tinkering with ginormous steel golems with Heimerdinger or fusing prehistoric plants to create a medical cure in the greenhouse, you were stuck in a creaky chair reading about Piltover’s centuries of diplomacy, each historical figure more boring than the last.

Surprisingly enough, more than anything, you had recently started looking forward to the class. The lazy trail of pressure tracing across your back reminded you of it, no doubt the boy behind you seeking more satisfaction in writing on something that wasn’t the toilsome comprehension task on your desks.

You felt the pen cap slide down your spine before rising to outline the bottom of your shoulder blades, an itch scratched that you didn’t even know you had. Your entire body tingled as he drew his invisible pictures, the motions unexpectedly relaxing. 

The class was silent for all but an occasional fit of whispers or the squeaking of a chair, making Viktor’s voice easy to hear over the perpetual scribbling of pencils.

“Psst.”

You glanced at the professor before turning backwards, Viktor already gazing expectantly at you.

“For a teacher of the City of Progress, the only progress he’s making is in years of age.” Viktor’s words were slightly adhered by the pen that was just skating about your back, its cap now being gnawed on by him; the corner of his lips curled delicately around it.

You stifled your laugh, casting yet another look at the professor.

“Please, at least we don’t have to listen to him lecture," you answered. "I don’t think I’ve ever stayed awake past two of his sentences.”

Viktor grinned slightly, the pen sliding from between his unusually even teeth.

“I never would have guessed that a class would be less interesting than watching the dust from the hallway renovations fall to the ground.”

You smiled back at him, shifting your body towards his desk so you wouldn’t have to crane your neck any further than you were. “For such a bland person, he’s certainly heated when he sees one of us even open our mouths. I'm surprised he hasn't scoped us out with those beady little eyes already.”

Viktor nodded, the lilting ends of his hair bouncing with the movements. Your eyes latched onto the oddly amusing motions, and his yours.

“Is something in my hair?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowing, as they seemed to have a habit of doing. Whether he was excited or upset, his brows always found a way to knit together.

“No,” you whispered back, your smile widening. “Your hair just happens to be an item of interest to me. Problem?”

His gaze flitted above your eyeline in response, his two honeypots of eyes widening with some sort of revelation. 

"What if I told you I've thought of a way to pay my debt of consantly borrowing your books?" Viktor questioned; you could swear you heard a hint of coyness in his voice, his accent framing his diguised innocence.

You narrowed your eyes, catching onto the subtle tilt of his lips in a small smirk.

"I would be curious, to say the least."

Viktor huffed, his slender fingers tapping along the side of his desk, bringing attention to his lean figure cramped into the constant bane that was the academy desks. For such a prosperous school, they were supplied with tables and chairs that would be found in a child's room. 

"Turn around," he simply stated, twirling one of his hands in demonstration. 

Scoffing, you swatted at the action, his mischievous smile only growing wider. 

"And why would I do that?"

"Oh, you're no fun, aren't you? You'll never find out if you don't experiment, after all - have you been listening to Heimerdinger?"

You shot one last glare before following through with his request, readying yourself for whatever unusual idea Viktor had concocted this time.

To your surprise, a dexterous trail suddenly ran its way through the roots of your hair. Startled, you tensed up before a hand pressed softly on your shoulders, Viktor's coaxing shushes flitting past your ears. As he started to casually drag a hand up the nape of your neck, you adjusted to the touch, the scratching sensation reaching deep past your scalp.

"I never thought that I'd say this, but I didn't know that all I needed in life was someone pawing at my brain," you murmured, occupied only by Viktor's ethereal fingers now combing through the sides of your head, tingles sent from the magical spots of contact down to your stomach. 

His answer was a quiet chuckle, hands occasionally pausing in their paths to scratch a bit at certain spots, causing a bout of warmth to rush through your body. They moved to the crown of your head, his pinkies moving more quickly to create two separate streams through your hair, the laid back but deliberate movements unravelling your mind. 

He hummed as he worked, the massage accompanied by the delicate tones of his voice encircling you, Viktor's calling of your name almost a purr. 

Just as you were fully settling in - only his steady trek through your hair swimming, to and fro - a harsh throat clearing yanked you from your state. It felt as if you had been suddenly pulled from underneath icewater, your senses flooding back all at once.

"Are we having fun here?" the professor sneered, his pinched face looming over the two of you. 

A dozen pair of eyes swung your way, uneasy blinking making its rounds through the classroom. 

"Of course not- wait, I mean, we are. This class is very interesting, but we're not having fun fun-"

Viktor cut you off, speaking so confidently that you could practically hear the cogs whizzing in his head to manufacture a response. 

"Since we were just reading about the distinguishing birthmarks of different Noxian families, we thought that we'd try our hand in finding one outside these books." He motioned to you, continuing, "They're of Noxian descent, and since the birthmarks of lower-ranking Noxian citizens tend to be found imprinted on their scalps, I was merely trying to locate it."

The professor turned towards you, his piercing eyes scrutinizing your expression, which you hope didn't give away your own fabrication.

"He's right, professor. My mother came to Piltover in search of a better life. After all, wonderful things of this city have been heard all around Runeterra, so it was her first thought to come here."

The man's stare only became more concentrated as you prayed your smattering of flattering Piltover was akin to tossing a coin in a well; after all, as a history teacher, he was bound to have some sense of pride for the region. 

You silently celebrated as he gave a single nod, slowly stepping away back to his place behind his desk. 

Viktor and you simultaneously released a tense breath, rotating to face each other with equally ditzy smiles. 

"I can't believe you thought of that so quickly," you said excitedly, trying to speak as much under your breath as possible.

"You didn't think I would engage in something without having a plan, did you?" he muttered back, swiftly tapping the tip of your nose with his finger.

You scrunched your face in return to which he laughed quietly, the mole on his cheek dancing with each twitch of his lip.

"I suppose it's my turn to think of a favor; I would've been a bumbling mess without you."

"That implies you aren't already one."

At your dramatic pount, Viktor leaned forward to set his chin on his hand, now looking up at you.

"Maybe my favor will be leaving you at the bottom of the stairs without your cane," you quipped, lifting your own hand to swipe a tuft of hair back from his forehead, the strands immediately falling almost comedically to their previous place.

"Please, you say that as if you haven't carried me before." He tucked the hair to the side himself, revealing the sharp angles of his left eyebrow. 

"Lightweight," you muttered, though your smile betrayed your fondness for the memory.

"You can repay me by helping me with Heimerdinger's assignment," he continued, his eyebrows meeting their familiar place touching together above the bridge of his nose.

Perplexed, you responded, "You're a favorite of his, why don't you have him help you with it? Believe it or not, I have a hunch that the very professor who wrote up the assignment can help you much more."

Viktor cast a judging look at you, his voice heightening in its signature haughtiness. "I consider it a favor because you are involved, not because the assignment is."

Your conversation was halted by an abrupt bark from the history professor, your neck nearly cramping from how fast you spun in your chair.

Just as he was about to launch into his tantrum, the saving grace of the academy bell tower rang, its sequence of chimes drowning out his sound. 

"Thank you, professor!" you yelled from over your shoulder, already halfway out the door when catching the last glimpse of him shaking his fist after you. 

"I could swear this class somewhat alleviates my limp when I'm escaping," Viktor chuckled. "If we had to return favors to the bell tower as well, we'd both be in very dire situations."

You paused beside the entryway to rifle through your satchel, retorting, "Anything to get out of that classroom, it nearly makes me miss the Undercity-"

Your words were halted by a lazy scratching above your ear, Viktor's calloused but gentle fingertips massaging into your temples, your nerves once again reduced to a puddle. 

"It's like your very own off switch," he teased, your head tipping forward into his chest instead of formulating another snappy response. 

With your forehead pressed against one of the buttons of his signature suit vest, you mumbled, "I'll just assist you so well with Heimerdinger's work that you will have no choice but to immediately be in my debt again."

Upon looking back up, the twinkle in his eyes signalled his agreement to the challenge.

"It seems we are seated on the same horse in the carousel of favors."

Rolling your eyes at his dramatically posh wording, you answered, "Viktor, with lines like that, I truly believe you would fit among even the council someday." 

Tremors reverberated throughout his chest as you felt him laugh at your cross between an insult and praise, leaning in to prop his chin on your head. The angular end of it settled perfectly, as did your hand in his. 

You couldn't be sitting on that carousel more happily. 

[sukirichi]

— the other side

request:  BRUH YOUR SWIMSUIT SHOPPING WITH JJK IS GOD LEVEL 😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫 I think you wrote Gojo perfectly 🥺 Could I pretty please request FaceTime sex with Gojo 🤩 Like maybe Gojo’s away on a mission and he really misses reader and he’s needy so he calls her and has her put the phone down in front of her and tells her what to do 😳

warnings: nsfw, mutual masturbation, facetime sex, dirty talk (+unedited fic)

note: i actually wasn’t sure if i could write this well since i’m not the best at dialogue, but i tried my best and i hope you like it anon! thank you for the request! dinner has been served!

masterlist ! 

Ruined. He’s absolutely ruined you.

You pull your fingers out of your clenching hole, your cheeks sweaty as you pant against your pillow. Hole clenching around nothing at the sudden emptiness, your chest heaves up and down with the gnawing dissatisfaction that you could no longer cum yourself; could no longer feel pleased unless it’s Gojo doing it for you.

Before you know it, a single tear flows down until it collects besides your lips. Hands rubbing against your tired eyes, you sigh at the clock blaring 2:19 AM mockingly at you.

It’s two in the fucking morning – and you haven’t cum ever since Gojo left for work.

Your fingers just wasn’t enough; could never be enough compared to his magical tongue and long dick that absolutely drives you into with so much need, large hands grappling against your soft mounds for leverage while he pounds himself into you.

It’s not the same without him. It’s been four long days ever since Gojo left for work; four torturous days that you’ve done everything you could to get off, only to keep failing after hours of humping your pillow or doing all the work with the cute pink dildo you got just for days he wouldn’t be around. It never ends well. Your wrist would only cramp or your thighs would ache afterwards, but you never came.

Perhaps that’s one of the consequences of being greedy and wanting to keep Gojo Satoru all to yourself. In return, he’s also stolen you of the privilege of fucking yourself.

Arm sprawled over your face, your breathing begins to regulate. Your legs are still wide open, arousal leaking from your disappointed cunt. You were ready, so ready for Gojo to come home and just fuck you silly.

You hate yourself for being this way, hate that your lips are trembling because you miss him so much and you’re actually crying all because you feel so empty without him buried within you.

It’s stupid, so fucking stupid, but you can’t help it.

You turn around to your side and hug his pillow closer to your body, breathing in his scent. It helps to calm you down a bit and even reassures you you’re not really alone; he’d come back in a few days and you’ll have him all to yourself again.

It’s been a long day, and the days just keep stretching over with the fact you’ve pretty much masturbated everywhere but still never got to come. A wave of exhaustion washes over you, your eyelids growing heavy at the same time you wrap one leg around Gojo’s pillow. His musky scent still remains, almost mocking that he’s never really away from you, but the dull aching deep within your pussy says otherwise.

You’re so helpless without him.

Just as you’re about to gaze off into to dreamland, your phone blares from your bedside table. You don’t waste another second before scrambling off the bed to get it, nearly falling off if you hadn’t grasped on to the sheets hard enough.

Gojo’s contact name of baby with a heart emoji flashes on the screen. Out of reflex, your entire body responds. Palms sweaty, lips puckered, pussy fluttering and nipples peaking – it’s embarrassing how your body reacts to him strongly. If he was here and he saw the way you open yourself up to him, Gojo would laugh while knuckle deep in you, teasing that you’re so eager for him and he hasn’t even done anything yet.

You quickly swipe right to answer, the grin on your face large and beaming when his handsome face greets you. “Satoru,” you smile, leaning back on the pillows to make yourself comfortable. “I missed you.”

There’s no lie about that. He’s still so handsome with one arm propped underneath him, hair down in messy strands and his eyes free from the blindfold, allowing you to witness the magic that pooled within that beauty. Satoru is now wearing a plain white shirt in exchange of his usual dark uniform, his bicep flexing under his weight, but you’re more focused on how his eyes crinkle once he finally saw your pretty face.

You could tell he misses you just the same.

“Hey, baby,” he coos through the call, and his low, husky voice immediately sends chill down your spine. The cold air bites at your exposed cunt and you shudder; you already know you’re wet again. It’s still ‘yesterday’ where he’s at, meaning that he’d have to leave for work after three hours or so as the sun begins to rise, while you’d still be slumbering at peace.

Or at least, sleep as comfortably as you could with countless failed orgasms.

“I missed you too,” Satoru sighs. His eyes droop for a moment, and he sees the way you open your lips, ready to tell him to get some more rest instead of calling you. Satoru only presses a finger to his lips, eyes glinting playfully at your awaiting gaze. “I’m fine, baby, don’t worry about me. I just needed to hear your voice.”

Your heart skips a beat at that. You’ve always known that Satoru is flirty, and even though he isn’t exactly being too flirty right now, the mere thought of him wanting to hear your voice before he sleeps does wondrous leaps to your wavering heart.

“Me too,” you confess in a small voice, tugging up the sheets under the chin as you grow more and more shy with each passing second. “It hasn’t been the same without you, Toru. I can’t…I can’t be myself when you’re not here.”

Satoru, despite being an absolute dumb fuck all the time, isn’t stupid when it comes to that tone of your voice. He nods once and presses the phone closer to his face, voice low and serious. “What’s wrong, baby? Do you want to talk to me about it?”

Yes and no. You seriously debate whether it’s best to tell him that you can’t cum without him, simply because he’s always so much better and feels perfect compared to your nimble fingers that barely even stretch you. On the other side, you don’t want to keep him up too late, plus phone sex… well, you haven’t really done it before. Just imagining showing yourself bare to Satoru through the camera already makes your body feel warmer than it already it is. He’s seen you naked hundred of times before, but the idea that he could record it…

You swallow audibly and look away from him. Your cunt is already gushing as you imagine Satoru recording the way you lose yourself as he buries his cock into your hilt, but it’s a different thing if you could both masturbate to the thought of each other.

“Babe,” Satoru cuts off your train of thoughts, “You feel frustrated too, don’t you? I’ve never hated my fist as much as I do now.”

Your head snaps to his direction so fast Satoru laughs at your crazed reaction, and the sound only increases when you start babbling to him. “Y-you,” you shake your head in disbelief, “You too? You can’t cum too? I mean, I’ve done everything I could, I even got a dildo but it’s not enough, Toru, it’s never enough, I need you so bad.”

You don’t care that you’re whining at this point. Satoru doesn’t give a damn either because he’s already palming his erection through his sweatpants from the other side of the world, jaw clenching as he imagines you doing lewd things without him.

“Aw, my poor baby,” he teases you, making you pout and hide under the sheets with only your eyes peeking through. “It’s okay, I’ve got you now,” his voice drops an octave lower, eyes darkening as lust consumes both your body. “Just be a good girl and follow my instructions, okay? I’ll make you feel good. We’ll make each other feel good. It’ll feel like I never left, okay?”

“O-okay,” you nod shakily, still unsure of what to do. “Is there-?”

“Yeah,” Satoru grunts as he whips his cock free from his confines, hips jutting forward now that his hand is wrapped around it. He sighs at the relief of finally getting his chance to cum. He understands your situation; his cock won’t even come close to the warmth of your tight pussy clenching on him. “Show me yourself, pretty girl. Show me those pretty pink lips of yours,” Satoru places his phone somewhere on the table near his bed, pushing his sweatpants down until his cock slaps against his underbelly, the tip red and leaking.

You gasp at how lewd he looks. The sheets are absolutely crumpled beneath him, and you clench your thighs at the sight of Satoru wrapping his hands around his large, angry cock with his eyes staring straight directly at the camera.

“Come on, baby, don’t be shy,” he rasps, “I want to see you, want to hear you. You’ll let me hear those beautiful moans, won’t you?”

When his hups jut forward to meet the tight grip of his hands, something inside you snaps. Breath shaky and legs trembling, you throw your sheets off to the side and get your phone stand before setting it up at your bedside table, making sure to tilt the camera downwards before you lean back onto the bed. You’re already naked underneath Satoru’s large shirt, and it doesn’t take much as you spread your legs eagerly for him, using two lips to spread your lips open even without his command.

Satoru groans at your arousal leaking down the sheets and making a mess. He pumps himself harder, smirking at how your heavy breathing is all he could hear. “So fucking pretty,” he praises, “Now put two fingers in your pussy for me, baby girl. Stretch yourself open so I can see how much you miss my cock.”

Obedient as ever, you do as you’re told, letting out a shuddered moan when your two fingers go past your walls without resistance. You’re wet, so fucking wet for him, but you want him. “Satoru,” you whine, pushing your fingers deeper and deeper and pulling them out for friction. Your walls clench around your digits and you start imagining that it’s his long fingers buried into you this time; getting off to his image and relishing in how Satoru is moaning your name. “Miss you baby,” you cry out, hands trailing up to squeeze your nipples. “I want you so bad.”

“Me too, baby, me too,” the sound of Satoru’s slick running up and down his shaft, along with his low groans, are like music to your ears. Your moan grows louder when you open your eyes and see that his muscles are flexing as he fucks his hand eagerly, his gaze focused on the way you’re shuddering around your own digits. “Another one. Add another one.”

Shakily, you add another one, your head falling back at the welcomed intrusion. It’s still not enough, but it’ll do for now.

You just imagine that it’s his cock inside you instead, each vein prominent as the ridges of your wall hug him completely. Satoru replaces his hand with your pussy as well, that the fist running down his dick is you bouncing on his cock instead. He can already picture the way your breasts bounce in front of him and Satoru shudders, “Tits,” he growls, “I want to see your fucking tits. Want to feel them on my hands,” Satoru chuckles at how eagerly you lift your shirt up to show him the beaded nipples, teeth biting down on the material with your hands still knuckle-deep in your pussy.

“Fuck, you’re always so pretty, babe.”

“Miss you,” you keep crying out, words muffled through the shirt you’re biting. You pinch your nipple at the same time you rapidly finger yourself, your pussy squelching and the sounds pornographic as it echoes all the way to Satoru’s phone. You miss him so fucking much that it’s unreal. There’s no more self control when your back hits the bed, hips lifting off the bed and giving Satoru a clearer view of your juices dripping down your ass.

Satoru can’t resist the way his balls tighten, desperate to have you right next to him so he can fuck your brains out already. He wishes he could come home and be in your warmth, be in your embrace, but he’s still got curses to kill that fucking you would just have to wait much to both parties’ displeasure.

Sweat is beading down his forehead as he watches you thrash around your bed, his cock only growing harder and a low growl emanating from his throat when you keep moaning satoru, satoru, satoru, I love you so fucking much.

“I love you too,” he manages to say in shaky breaths. “You’re so perfect for me – fuck.”

You push yourself off the edge by pulling your lips aside and pinch at your clit. At that, your back arches off the bed, making your fingers dig deeper into you and for a split second, you manage to hit your g-spot. Satoru can tell you’re close by the way your legs spasm and he encourages you, spitting down his cock as he pumps his fist around his length almost angrily.

“That’s good, baby, keep going, keep going,” his teeth clenches when you nod, tears falling down your pretty cheeks. “Want to fuck you so good – I’d have you screaming around my neck while I take you from behind and shove your face down the pillow,” you moan in response, the sound high pitched and almost whiny. Satoru chuckles before he cuts himself off with a hiss, his balls tightening and his cock throbbing already. “Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You want me to fuck your ass when I get home?”

“Yes, yes, please,” your belly tightens at the thought of Satoru stretching your tight hole, even better if he pulls at your hair while his hips slam at the flesh of your ass.

Rubbing your clit fervently, Satoru’s name comes out as a broken cry as your orgasm chokes you. The tears are staining your cheeks the same way your cum is making a mess on the sheets, and you grind down harder on the sheets, scissoring yourself just to extend your orgasm.

“Satoru,” you whine, “Fuckkk.”

“I’m close, baby, I’m-” Satoru falls forward when his cock shoots out thick ropes of cum, some of them landing on his abdomen and one sticks to his chin. Your pupils blow wide with lust as you shudder around your fingers while riding down your high, in disbelief that Satoru is cumming so much.

He’s shameless as he continues thrusting into his fists. You’re worried he would overuse his strength and beat his cock to death, but Satoru only chuckles as he keeps pumping his cock, his cum overflowing and pooling down his thick thighs.

“Shit,” he mumbles to himself, falling in the same state as you when he drops down on the bed. His dick begins to turn limp but it’s still twitching, turning a dark shade of pink as he beats his dick almost lazily the time. The both of you take a moment to breathe at the orgasm; not as mind blowing as the ones you’d get if he was there rutting into you instead, but because he’s there, you’re still left with the aftershocks of pleasure.

Wiping the arousal left on your hands on your shirt, you grab your phone and fall into your pillows, cheeks squished and eyelashes fluttering slowly. “Toru,” you call out softly, “You asleep?”

“I want to come home already,” is all he says. He’s still half-passed out in his bed and you laugh, rubbing your thighs together and grimacing when it starts to stick together from your cum. Glancing at Satoru’s form, you dash to the bath to clean yourself up by washing away the cum, coming back to see that Satoru was also in the middle of cleaning his cum with napkins.

“Facetime sex,” he laughs to himself with a shake of his head, mirroring your form by langind on his pillows. He looks absolutely adorable with his lips puckered out like that, azure blue eyes drooping close. “I miss you, babe. I promise when I come home I’m going to fuck you endless.”

You chuckle at his words, wondering how he’s able to say such suggestive things when he’s seconds away from passing out due to exhaustion. Your eyelids grow heavy as well, and along with the light blanket of satisfaction and post-orgasm bliss, the only thing that wouldn’t make this a good night of sleep is the fact Satoru isn’t next to you. Nevertheless, you’re grateful that Satoru took the time to call you despite his busy schedule.

Your heart flutters when Satoru lazily calls you baby, mumbling on and on about how much he misses you. Now that he’s come down from his high, he’s reverting into his big baby self.

His eyes are closed and he’s burying himself deeper into his pillows. You’re about to say goodbye when Satoru lightly snores from the other line, a smile tugging at your lips when you see that he’s now blissfully asleep. Wishing that you could run your hands through his hair, at least, you kiss the screen in the hopes it’d reach him at least metaphorically.

“Sleep well, my love,” you whisper before swiping left to end the call.

Even through the other end of the line, on the other side of the world, Satoru’s worries and exhaustion are washed away with the love you send him.

[honeypiehotchner]

Satan’s Waterfall (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- one shot

I couldn’t think of a name for this to save my life, but Satan’s waterfall is literally what I call my period so... (Also this is 100% self-insert because my period was from actual HELL yesterday)

I wrote this instead of doing my homework. Enjoy xx

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: SMUT! period sex in the shower, “good girl” is said many times, Daddy kink (a lil), slight size kink (it’s inevitable with him), you and Hotch are newly married (I wrote “husband” organically and kept it)

It’s the second day of your period.

The first day is always the worst. The cramps are so severe that you’re nauseated (sometimes actually to the point of puking your guts out) and dizzy, freezing but somehow sweating, hungry but in too much pain to bring yourself to eat more than some crackers, and in desperate need of chocolate or coffee -- even though both of those things make everything else a thousand times worse.

You’re on birth control -- which was Aaron’s first question when he witnessed your period for the first time, completely on accident because you forgot you invited him over when your period was scheduled to hit. So, needless to say, it was maybe your fourth date night ever with your now-husband, and he had to hold your hair back as you puked. You had meant to reschedule that night, but you honestly weren’t feeling too bad until halfway through the movie the two of you decided to watch.

Regardless, birth control helps regulate your period and put it on a schedule, but so far it hasn’t done much to help the pain. Although, you used to pass out, and you don’t anymore, so maybe birth control has helped in a slight way.

Aaron doesn’t think it has at all. He still worries every single month, threatening to take time off of work (at least on the first day) to be with you, but you always tell him not to. You essentially threaten to become an unsub if he doesn’t take his ass to work, but he doesn’t find the joke as funny as you do.

Sometimes he’ll stay home because he’ll wake up and you’ll be in a shivering mess on the bathroom floor, or wide-awake next to him in bed (did anyone say period-induced insomnia?), or groaning to yourself quietly on the couch, having been there for hours so as not to disturb him.

Which is how yesterday went, actually, so that’s why he’s not home today because you told him if he stays home again to coddle you, you might become a fuming toddler.

Thankfully (but unfortunately for him), Chief Strauss called a meeting, so he had no choice but to go to work.

The second days aren’t even that bad. You’re still basically bed-ridden (or couch-ridden, at least, because the TV is in the living room), but you’re not puking and you’re not dizzy. You occasionally sweat like crazy when a wave of cramps comes, but nothing like yesterday.

You’ve showered, changed into new sweatpants and one of Aaron’s old t-shirts, had breakfast and lunch, and you’ve even done a load of laundry (mainly because you bled through the sheets last night). You’re having a much better day.

But, because it’s still that time of the month, it isn’t a great day because you’re still cramping. And lucky you, a bad wave hits right when Aaron walks in from work.

“I told you to let me stay today,” he says gently, pushing the hair back from your sweaty forehead.

“These are nothin’,” you whine, reaching out for his hand to hold anyway. “They’ll be gone soon.”

“You’re pale. Have you eaten?”

“Mhm, breakfast and lunch,” you nod, letting your eyes slip closed when the cramps ease. You feel your heating pad getting cold. It must’ve turned off. You start fumbling around for the controller, but Aaron beats you to it, turning it back on.

“That’s good,” he says. “What about water?”

“Oh, oops,” you chuckle. “I had one glass this morning.”

“And?”

“Anddd coffee.”

“Y/N…” He sighs. “What have I told you?”

“Yeah, yeah, I need to drink extra water when I’m like this. But here’s my thing: I’m suffering enough already, why make me suffer more by making me drink water?”

“Because it’s good for you,” he mutters, standing to fill a glass. “And you’re drinking more tonight. I don’t care if you’re up peeing all night--”

“I’ll wake you up every damn time I do.”

“Gladly,” he smirks, returning with the glass. “Come on, up. Drink.”

Begrudgingly, you sit up, muttering curses under your breath because now your back is cold which means you’re hurting more. Wordlessly, Aaron lifts the heating pad and holds it to your back while you drink some water.

“Good girl,” he says, taking the empty glass from you and sitting it on the coffee table.

“Don’t say that to me,” you grumble, already laying back down and grabbing a blanket, tucking it under your chin.

“Why not?” He asks, smoothing your hair again, smiling when you close your eyes.

“Because it gives me thoughts.”

“Thoughts?”

You open your eyes a little. “Thoughts.”

Aaron chuckles when you close your eyes again, effectively hiding from him. “Honey pie, you’re going to have to tell me what thoughts you’re talking about.”

“You know what thoughts I’m talking about,” you breathe. “Sexy thoughts.”

“Ahh, sexy thoughts,” he laughs.

“But I can’t have those right now.”

“Why not?”

“Hello?” You open your eyes, giving him a look. “It’s the time of Satan’s waterfall?”

“Satan’s-- Okay, just because you’re on your period, doesn’t mean we can’t have sex. It might make you feel better.”

“Oh, orgasms do, yes. I’ve had two today.”

He raises his eyebrows.

“Don’t give me that look. My issue is, I want you inside me when you call me a good girl.”

“I still can be.”

You scrunch your nose. “Too messy. I just washed the sheets.”

“Not in bed,” Aaron squeezes your hand. “We have a shower.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Is my husband into period sex?”

He laughs loudly. “I’ve always thought about it, but you’re always in so much pain, I didn’t want to ask.”

“We’ve done worse things than have sex while I’m bleeding.”

“Yeah, but…” He lifts your hand to kiss your knuckles. “I never want to hurt you.”

You can’t help but grab his face and kiss him then, too overcome with love for him to stop yourself. His care, his tenderness. You’ve asked him to throw you around like a literal ragdoll before, and yet he’s still worried about hurting you.

“You know I’ll tell you,” you whisper, stealing another kiss. “You never hurt me. At least not in ways I don’t like.”

He groans into your mouth. “Time for a shower.”

“Already?” You giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He lifts you from the couch and guides your legs around his torso, all the while keeping his lips on yours. He digs his fingers into your thighs and you squeal, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You have no idea how he manages to get to the bathroom without knocking into anything, but you’re not questioning it.

He sets you down and you start ripping off your clothes, and he joins you after turning the shower on.

“Someone’s excited,” he chuckles, feeling your fingers on his belt. All you have on are your panties, but he’s still got pants on which is unfair.

“Hey, you suggested it, so I want it.”

“Okay, okay,” he tosses his belt out into the bedroom, laughing because you’re already unbuttoning and unzipping him. “You are eager.”

“I’m horny,” you correct him. “And it’s your fault.”

“I know, sweet girl,” he kisses your forehead. “But I’ll take care of it.”

“You better.”

While he’s busy finishing undressing, you kick your panties away and hop in the shower, adjusting the temperature.

Aaron steps in a moment later, a stupid grin on his face. “Hi.”

“Hi yourself,” you reply, relaxing under the hot water. “This feels good.”

His face softens. “Are you hurting again?”

“Not really,” you roll your shoulders. “Don’t get shy on me now.”

“I’m not,” he promises, rubbing his hands up and down your arms. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Trust me, I’ll be fine,” you tug him closer, tilting your head to accept his kiss.

He starts slow, wanting to gauge your reactions before he does anything too drastic. He rubs your clit gently, waiting until he hears a moan before he continues. When his tongue slips into your mouth, one finger sinks into your core.

It’s different, that he’ll admit. You feel warmer and wetter, but you’re definitely not in any pain. Your moans are too loud for that.

He dips his head to your neck, suckling there, letting you thread your fingers in his hair while he slips a second finger into you. You gasp a little too loud and a little too suddenly, so he stops, but quickly starts again when your fingernails dig into his scalp in protest.

“Are you okay?” He mumbles against the hickey on your neck.

“More,” you whimper.

He scissors his fingers, wrapping his free arm around your waist to keep you steady. The added pressure of three of his fingers buried inside you nearly makes your knees buckle. Everything about him is so big and it makes you weak when you even as much as think about it.

He moves back to your lips, kissing you deeply, pausing only to ask, “How does that feel, little one?”

“M’gonna cum,” is your only reply, your eyes squeezed shut.

“Go ahead,” he whispers. “As much as you want, sweet girl. This is all about making you feel good. There you go.” He feels the first flutterings of your walls. He spreads his fingers slightly, knowing you love the stretch, when his fingers press right into your g-spot. “Come on, honey. Let go.” He moves his thumb to your clit, rubbing small circles before spreading his fingers once more, shooting you over the edge.

You cling to his shoulders, nearly biting him from the force of it. Everything is so much more sensitive when you’re on your period and you knew that, but it’s different when it’s him. It always is.

“That’s my good girl,” he murmurs, easing you to the ending waves of your orgasm. “How was that?”

“Amazing, do you even need to ask?” You laugh, kissing him. “Can you please get inside me?”

“Please what?”

“Please, Daddy.” You bat your eyelashes for good measure, even though you know he wouldn’t tease you, not right now. He just wanted to hear you say it.

“Of course,” he steals another kiss before finally taking his fingers from you. Wordlessly, he washes the blood away, and you should’ve known he wouldn’t give two shits about this.

And you’re right, he doesn’t. The sight of blood doesn’t phase him anymore, especially not your period because it’s natural. And right now he’s too worried about making you feel good to even bother pretending to be grossed out by it.

He’s already hard, so you can’t help but reach down and stroke him, grinning when he groans loudly.

Before you can blink, though, he has you up in his arms and against the wall, your legs already settling around his hips.

“Tell me if I hurt you,” he says again, looking into your eyes. “Okay?”

“Yes, I promise,” you assure him.

Accepting that answer, he drops his hand to guide himself inside of you, moving as slow as possible -- which you appreciate, even if you do want to be fucked. But you’ve never had sex on your period before, not even with previous partners, so you weren’t sure if having a dick inside you would actually feel good.

But damn it does.

You know part of it is because it’s Aaron, your husband, your best friend. His dick is good on a normal day, but when you’re sensitive from your period, it’s even better.

“Oh my fucking God.”

“What?” He stops moving, leaning his head back to look at you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you laugh, threading your fingers through his hair again. “Nothing. It feels good.”

He smirks, rocking his hips slowly, letting you take more of him. “Feels good?” He asks, and you nod. “Is it wrong of me to enjoy this?” He whispers, going deeper. “You’re so warm.”

“Harder, please.”

He slams his hips forward, nipping at your neck when you whine loudly. “Are you gonna cum again?”

You nod your head lazily, locking your ankles behind his back, arching your back, forcing him deeper. A groan stutters in his throat when he feels his head teasing your cervix.

You like that normally, but his paranoia has him pulling back. “Are you--”

“If you don’t shut up and fuck me.”

He doesn’t question you after that, especially not with the lethal look you had in your eyes.

With no more hesitations, Aaron finally gives in. Every thrust is deep, yet you still push your hips up, trying to take even more. He’s never seen you like this, this greedy and almost animalistic in the way you’re chasing your orgasm.

He lets you guide him, staying still when you pull him in as deep as he can go and hold him there. He nearly explodes a few times, having to stay still while your walls pulsate around him.

Soon you’re quite literally thrown into your second orgasm when Aaron’s thumb rubs your clit as he pushes in deep, staying there, letting you squirm until he tells you to let go, and you do.

“Good girl,” he whispers, kissing your cheek lovingly. “That’s my good girl.”

Once your orgasm has settled down, he carefully lifts you off of him, setting you back on your feet. A puzzled look crosses your face.

“What?”

“You didn’t…”

He smiles. “I told you, I wanted to make you feel good.”

“And you did, but--”

“It’s okay, sweet girl.” He kisses your forehead once before turning to rinse off his dick, but you’re not giving up that easily.

You sneak your hands around his waist, resting your cheek on the middle of his back while you swat his hands out of the way.

“Little girl...what do you think you’re doing?”

“Making you feel good,” you murmur, gently stroking him.

It doesn’t take long for him to cum with a muffled cuss word under his breath. You sigh happily against his back, letting go of his dick to hug him instead.

Aaron turns around to gather you in his arms, moving forward slightly so your face isn’t directly under the water. “Is someone tired?”

You shake your head, even though you practically bury yourself in his chest. “Just content.”

“Feeling better?”

“Much,” you giggle. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he kisses your forehead. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

[ladyvesuvia]

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@justadreamyhufflepuff: GSJSVSKSBSJD BABY CONGRATS- CAN I PLEASE GET A 🎠 -> Harry potter + soft love + fluff + prompts 9, 10, 32, 42 from prompt list 1. || for my 300 followers celebration

Prompts:

9. “You took all the pillows so I’m using you as one.”

10. “Stop moving and let me braid your hair.”

32. “Make a wish!”

42. “Darling I love you and all, but please step out of the kitchen.”

Pairing: Harry Potter x Fem!Reader

Summary: Moving into your new house with Harry.

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: fluff but with slight and subtle mentions of sexual activities + let me know if i missed anything!

A/N: omg yay harry fluff :DDD ok sorry go ahead btw this hasn’t been proofread yet mbad

After years of setting things up, they could finally move into their house. Of course, there were some parts of it that still needed fixing but they’ll eventually work it out. Right now, they wanted to bask in the comfort and triumph of their own house.

“Got your key?” said [Y/N], holding out her own key. She had already attached a duck keychain to it.

“Got it,” replied Harry, showing her his own. They both sniggered at his ridiculous bathtub keychain, which looked undeniably out of place but she was glad for it nonetheless. See, she had bought it years ago when they first talked about getting a house. “Will you do the honors?”

“You know, we could easily Alohomora the heck out of this bas —”

“Do the honors,” he teasingly urged, poking her on the waist where her tickle spot was and she recoiled. “Do it, [Y/L/N].”

“Ha! I’m Potter now, too. Ergo you’re not so special anymore,” she said as she marched up the raised porch. It was a lovely sight indeed — she could already imagine inviting the others to come over: roasting marshmallows either here or at the backyard and such. She giddily walked towards the door. This is it, she thought. “Wait, this is unfair. You carry me as you open it so I’ll be like a pretty wife.”

“That you are,” said Harry as he scooped her up into his arms. She let out a whoop of approval, patting his cheek as he put the key in and swung the door open.

All their boxes were on the floor already, with a lot more scattered all over the house. “Ooh, this is a lot of work. Wanna sleep it off?” she yawned, kicking some boxes aside on her way to the stairs. “What, you gonna protest, Mr. Potter?”

“Not at all, Mrs. Potter,” said Harry, and they both stopped and looked at each other, eyes narrowed while scrutinizing the name. “Mrs. Potter.”

“Does it sound a bit weird to you? I mean, no offense. I mean, I’ve waited for this half of my life but — you know?

“Yeah, like, [Y/N] Potter,” he said again, making arm gestures as if parting a curtain. She started to laugh. “I see what you mean.”

“You look like a . . . getching shooba driver but on land,” she said with a yawn.

“A what?” This time, Harry was the one stifling his laughter.

“Glitching scuba diver on land,” spat [Y/N], taking off her jacket. When she saw he’d been eyeing her with a dazed expression on his face, she made a show of getting off her right jacket sleeve with a suggestive smile on her face. “Wait, uh, can’t get it off. Sweat, I think. Help?”

“Will do, will do,” said Harry, approaching her and reaching out to pull it off her with a tight smile in an awful attempt to keep his laughter.

“Whatever. Can we sleep now, please? Where’s our bed again?”

“There,” he pointed somewhere in the kitchen room.

“I thought our room was upstairs?”

“Our room is upstairs, the bed is here.”

“Why would that be the ca—oh, no. D’we really have to assemble it?” she whined. They had to travel by Muggle transportation due to issues with the Floo network and they wanted to minimize suspicion, and the it was finally taking its toll on their entire energy: [Y/N]’s back was cramping from the long ride, Harry’s head was already hurting like hell. To make matters worse, neighbors were peeking through their windows so they had to go inside immediately.

“No, we can just bring the mattress up and assemble it all tomorrow, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said with a moan, tossing the jacket on the kitchen counter. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Oh, are we — ?” He shrugged hesitantly.

“No! I mean, do you want to? Now?”

“Do you?” The two chuckled nervously. They were standing there for probably around half a minute or one when the doorbell dinged and the two of them jumped. [Y/N] volunteered to get it.

A woman younger than her for about a year stood in front of her doorstep when she swung the door open, carrying a tiny baby probably about a few months old in her arms. [Y/N] managed a friendly smile as she wiped away a drop of sweat from her forehead.

“Hi, welcome to the neighborhood. I’m Karolina Martin. I live right across and I brought you something!”

“The . . . baby?” [Y/N]’s shoulders tensed as she thought about this over an over until she realized that was highly unlikely.

“No! You’re hilarious, though. I like you. I actually came here to give you” — the woman put down a bag she hung over her shoulder down on the floor — “this.”

Inside was a basket with a bottle of what [Y/N] could only assume was fine wine or champagne or whatever it was couples with a number of chocolates and cookies inside. She realized with a start there was also a pot inside.

[Y/N] laughed, holding up the pot. “Funny, because we’re Potters?” she asked, setting it back down again.

“You are?” Karolina said, impressed. “So which do you suggest I should start with first? Stoneware or earthenware? Ooh, what about fire clay?”

It took a few seconds before [Y/N] realized the direction of the conversation. “Oh! Well, heh, not that kind of potter.”

Karolina flinched, eyeing [Y/N] with suspicion. “You smoke — ?”

“No! Not that kind of potter. We don’t smoke po—Sorry, that’s on me, I should have clarified. I’m [Y/N],” she said. Karolina still looked confused. Composing herself, she managed a tight smile. “[Y/N] Potter.”

“Oh! Oh, my goodness. I’m so sorry!” Karolina chuckled. “I was a bit confused, I’m really sorry. I haven’t met someone around here about my age.”

“Don’t worry about it. Thanks for the welcoming gift, by the way. I just moved in with my . . . husband.” It still sounded surreal to call Harry that way, but she liked it all the same. Her eyes fell on the chubby little kid.

“Right! This is baby Sydney, she’s turning six months old next week. Would be really nice if you and your husband could come — and kid or kids, if you have some?” Maybe it was the coos the baby made or her adorable eyes and hints of two teeth growing, but [Y/N] felt intimidated by the little kid. She was bigger than she thought babies would be. Is this what she’d push through her bottom? She shuddered. “Do you . . . want to hold her?” asked Karolina, oblivious to the thoughts going on in [Y/N]’s heads.

“Listen, I’m really grateful you stopped by but we’re kinda tired. I’m so, so, sorry! Thank you a lot for these stuff. We’ll definitely come by next week — me and Harry, just Harry and me.” [Y/N] chuckled nervously again, smiling at the baby.

“I totally understand. Me and Joey were also very tired when we first moved in, hence Sydney.” Karolina laughed. [Y/N] simply chimed in the laughter as well, not wanting to jeopardize a newfound friendship over a joke. “Have a lovely evening, [Y/N]. I’ll see you around!”

When she shut the door with the bag over her shoulder, she jumped in fright at the sight of Harry just behind the door with an amused grin on his face. “What?” said [Y/N] as she rubbed her eyes.

“Husband?” he mused. When she shot him a glare saying not to push it further, he resorted to giggling. “Sorry, my wife.”

“Shut up, Harry,” she said. “Now, where’s that damned mattress?”

“Worry not, I got it upstairs already, all we gotta do now is take a quick shower and go to bed.”

After they finished dressing into more comfortable clothes, they made it a point to plop down as hard as they could on the mattress. To her relief, Harry had settled a plain white bedsheet on top of it earlier while she was talking to Karolina. She was the first to jump in, stretching her legs all over. “Finally!” she exclaimed.

“Your turn,” she said, pointing at a spot right next to her. Harry took off his glasses and was about to jump in next when she asked where the pillows were.

“Er — Accio pillow!” She could hear the sound of boxes moving downstairs bumping each other when a pillow came hurtling in and landed on Harry’s chest, forcing him to plop down on the mattress.

A shrill squeak sounded, and the two of them froze. [Y/N] narrowed her eyes, pointing her finger at him in accusation. “Did you fart?”

“No, we just still haven’t removed the plastic from the mattress.”

“You want to remove it?” she suggested, ready to get up and get her own wand when Harry gently nudged her back down.

“Okay, where’s my wand?“

[Y/N] looked left and right until she found it tying on an old bedside table he managed to set down earlier that day and said, “There! Bedside table.”

“Eh.”

“Agreed, let’s just say you did fart.”

“Agreed,” said Harry, who unconsciously wrapped his legs and arms around the pillow on top of him and closed his eyes to sleep. [Y/N] was quick to act. Not to take his pillow, but to turn him into one — metaphorically, of course. She laughed at the thought of using Transfiguration to turn Harry into a literal pillow.

Just as he wrapped his limbs around the only pillow, [Y/N] did the same to him. He woke up with a jolt, but did not take her off him. “I’m the little spoon?” he asked with a smile.

“Yes, and I happen to like little spoons a lot,” she said casually. Harry turned his head in her direction, with a wide grin on his pretty face. “Okay, that sounded wrong. It’s just that you hogged the only pillow so now I’m using you as one.”

“Well, do you want it?” he offered obliviously.

“Nope, I like this set-up. Go back to sleep.”

And he did — they both did. At some point during the night, they turned each other into a pillow. Harry, however, awoke to the sound of her snoring. It wasn’t like his Uncle Vernon’s, though. Looking at her face seemed to dull it all out. It wasn’t exactly an endearing sound, but the sight of her was more than so — tousled hair, mouth slightly open. . . . With one last smile on his face as he watched her sleep, he felt himself drifting off into a deep slumber.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

A loud clanging from downstairs awoke Harry. Had he overslept? He found that his back ached whenever he did so much as move, but knew better than to bide his time if there was danger nearby. He reached out to the bedside table to grab his wand, but realized he had to put his glasses on first.

Harry ran downstairs, clutching his wand tightly with his outstretched hand as he listened for anything there was to hear. He paused. A stranger walked out of the kitchen, and he pointed his wand at them.

The stranger held their hands up with a bewildered look on their face until [Y/N] came out of the kitchen all sweaty with a frilly apron. “Harry!” she cried in bewilderment at the sight of him pointing his wand at their new neighbor. “Alright, uh, Karolina, this is my husband, Harry; Harry — stop pointing your . . . stick at her — this is our neighbor who lives across from us, Karolina.”

“Er — hello, Karolina. Sorry about the wa—” [Y/N] shot him a dirty look. “—ander. Wander. Sorry about the bad . . . wandering. You know what? I just woke up on the wrong side of bed and I got paranoid with the . . . new house and all.”

“He tends to get jumpy,” said [Y/N] in hopes of wrapping this up immediately. “Anyway, five minutes left till it’s done. Thank you so, so much for the help, Karol! One last thing, for the whipped cream, do I. . .”

He then noticed that some of the furniture were already arranged such as the sofa and the dining table. Some cabinets were decorated with non-magical framed pictures of them. Harry begged to disagree, though. Each picture there was more than just ma— Is that a baby? Sleeping in a car seat on their couch?

Harry blinked. It stirred, eyes fluttering open. Harry was now holding his breath in anticipation. It was watching him curiously. When he did not move, the little thing started to giggle. Smiling sheepishly back, he made a show of raking his hand through his hair and walking into the kitchen.

It was still messy, but the fridge was on now, and some condiments were put where they belonged.

Karolina was washing a bowl on the sink when the baby outside started crying. She washed her hands quick and ran out, excusing herself while smiling apologetically at the two of them.

[Y/N] opened the oven, pulling out something that smelled of a scent that made Harry’s mouth water.

“Is that Treacle Tart?” he blurted out.

[Y/N] almost dropped the pan of delight she held in her mittened hands. She cleared her throat in an attempt to maintain her composure as she set it down on the counter and pulled off her mittens. Still panting, she looked at him and said, “Harry, darling, I love you and all but please step out of the kitchen.”

“Sorry,” he muttered as he pressed a kiss against her head.

“Don’t do that, my hair stinks. I haven’t showered yet,” said [Y/N].

“What do you mean? It smells just fine.”

“Yeah? Well, it’s greasy. Is it greasy?”

“Yeah, you kinda look like Snape from where I’m standing. Ow! Sorry, bad joke. Okay, keep doing what you’re doing while I. . .” he trailed off as he grabbed her wrist gingerly and pulled off the scrunchie off it and started braiding her hair whilst she shook the whipped cream. “Could you just stop moving and let me braid your hair?”

“Oh, shut up! This tart’s for you, anyway.”

“So it is a Treacle Tart?”

“Uh, Doy,” she said mockingly. “It’s for your birthday, genius.”

“But it isn’t till next month,” said Harry.

“Eh, well, thought we could spend some time together in our new house without a crowd for a while. Why’re you even braiding my hair?”

“That baby got me thinking about it,” said Harry, as the child’s sobs started to cease. “You know, like . . . do you think we’re ready?”

“Well, what will be, will be.” She squeezed whipped cream on each side, scanning the final product with narrowed eyes. Harry tied the poorly-done braid with the scrunchie, letting her hair fall down to her back. [Y/N] turned to him. “Honestly, I’m kind of scared about the whole thing, you know? Like, aside from the . . . bloody pushing, it’ll be a huge responsibility. And I want to know if you’re up for it.”

“Okay,” he found himself saying so casually.

“Okay?” [Y/N] repeated to him, with an expression the combination of excitement and disbelief. “Okay as in, ‘okay let’s start trying?’”

“Okay, yes! Let’s start trying now!”

“Okay, but not right now, though,” said [Y/N] under her breath.

“Why not?” he said. Merlin, I have to stop.

“For one, Karolina’s right there at the doorway with Sydney.”

Harry shifted his gaze from [Y/N] to Karolina, who was now trying hard to stifle her laugh with a sleeping Sydney in her arms. “Okay, I’m gonna pretend I didn’t just hear that,” she said with a suggestive smile. “I’ll get going now, [Y/N], Harry.”

“Oh, you won’t try the Treacle Tart out?” called out [Y/N].

“Nah, we’ve eaten a lot of that already. We’re having cheesecake for tonight. Anyway, see you two.” With a friendly wave, she went off her way, leaving the two of them alone in their house.

Harry expected her to berate him, but she was already facing him with a slice of a tart resting neatly on a plate with a lousy candle set in the middle of it. “Make a wish,” she told him.

“Uh. . . I’m bad at wishes, you know that.”

“Then wish to be better at making wishes then make a better wish next month,” she said.

“Okay, I wish to be better at making wishes,” said Harry before blowing the candle out. [Y/N] pulled off the candle and lead him to the living room, where she put down the pan and separated the entire thing to put it on an adorable floral plate she loved.

“Happy super advanced birthday, Just Harry,” said [Y/N], kissing his head this time. “Have some Treacle Tart. I tried, okay?” Laughing, she put a fork on his plate and went to slice one for herself.

“Thank you, soft love,” said Harry as he helped himself to his slice. “Merlin, this is per—”

[Y/N] bursted into laughter, a couple crumbs spitting on the table. She had to get a tissue and wipe the table as she bellowed. “What’d you say?”

“Soft . . . love. Does that mean something bad?”

“No, no, no. It’s just funny to hear it from you. Say it again,” she said, resting her elbow on the top rail of a chair, eager to hear him.

“Soft love?” said Harry hesitantly.

“Oh my— Who told you to say that? Where’d you learn that?” choked [Y/N], wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “Okay, sorry.”

“Er — you see, before we left to go here, Ron told me to experiment with . . . pet names.”

“So you delivered?”

“Do you not like it?” said Harry, his fork frozen in mid-air.

“Oh, I do. I so do,” she replied, chuckling. “I’ve had enough of tough love, I could use some soft love. But d’you know what it means?”

When Harry shook his head, she took one step forward to run her hand through his hair, grinning. “Means you accept all flaws instead of trying to build up a wall just to better and correct those flaws.”

“Then what’s so funny?” he asked with genuine curiosity rather than annoyance.

“Oh, Harry. Nothing! I just find you trying new stuff very, very amusing. Moving in here was a good choice, you know. Now I get to find out new things about you,” said [Y/N].

Harry smiled back, his cheeks a tad warmer than usual. “So which do you prefer? Tough love or soft love?”

“Eh, a relationship can’t work with just one of the two. Both works. Now eat your slice before we get working on this house,” said [Y/N] as she snapped her fingers, picking up her own plate and savoring her own work. “Chop chop.”

“You mean home?”

“Yep, I mean home,” answered [Y/N] without any hesitation. Oh, and, just one small update: they didn’t remove the plastic wrap of the mattress until next week.

Taglist: @gingerale2017 @maybanksslut @hey-there-angels @mrzweasley @gwlvr @booksarealwaysbettersworlds-blog @greenlyblue @henqtic @meiitanoia @badass-yn @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts

[mouthfulloftoothpasterry]

Meet cute

summary: going through harry and Loralie's normal day... until Harry meets someone. 

warnings/ disclaimers: none :) 

“Daddy!” Harry hears, tearing his head up from his big metal desk where he was looking over his students' art work. He teaches art at a primary school and is lucky enough to work in a school that has care for younger kids, so his daughter Loralie attends the preschool there. “Darling, why are you out of class already? The first bell hasn't rung yet.” At this school they have a three bell system. The first is for kids who ride the bus home, then the ones who get picked up by a parent or walk home, and the third bell is for kids who live further out and take the bus- the buses come back from their first trip and come around for them to take them to their long trip back home. The teacher's assistant always escorts Loralie to Harry's classroom after the first bell. 

“I'm done!” she says, waving a bye to the teachers assistant whale Harry thanks her. He pulls her up on a chair next to the wooden stool he was sitting in, pulling her paisley printed backpack off of her and unzipping it to look through her folder. He looks over his class (full of seven and eight year olds) making sure they are all doing what they should be- reading a library book while they wait for their number bell to ring. He looks through some of the work she had done, the two pockets sorted into one that had her work of colorings, trying to write her name, and crafts. The other pocket filled with papers her and Harry needed to study together, her ABC’s, her numbers up to ten, colors, and notes to parents. 

Harry gasps dramatically, pulling his classes' attention away from their books. “You got two golden stars today?!” he asks Loralie, making her nod, giggling. In her class they have a reward system, if the teacher or teachers assistant catches them doing a good deed they will reward them with a golden star sticker to encourage them to keep doing it, all the teachers here do it with the younger kids. Today Loralie was caught helping a kid pick up his crayons and then sat with a lonely kid while they were on the story time rug- now Harry is having a total proud dad moment reading the note her teacher had written him. 

Just then the bell rings, “have a good night everyone!” Harry calls out to the first-bellers. He turns back to his daughter seeing her cover her ears from the loud ring of the school bell. Harry laughs, pulling Loralie to sit on his lap, ignoring the art he was working on. “So, tell me all about your day, baby.” Harry says, one arm wrapped her back and the other pulled her backpack down and shoving her folder and lunchbox into it. Loralie babbles on about her day for a while, ignoring the other listening ears and telling her daddy everything that had happened. She goes on about story time and how they had read one fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish by dr.seuss, how they sang some songs, and how they colored until the third bell rings leaving Harry and Loralie all alone. 

“We can't go home just get, baby. I've got a few things to do before we can leave.” Harry informs his daughter, pulling his earlier classes paintings off of the drying rack and stacking them so he could hand them out easier tomorrow. Loralie has no response, instead getting in Harry's big metal desk drawers and pulling out the couple of toys she kept here for times like this when Harry kept them after school a bit longer than she wanted. Harry lets Loralie help him when he puts the watercolor paints in the back storage room. 

He hears  feet on the steps leading to the art room making him peek his head out, reaching out for Loralie so she would grab his hand. He hears a bit of whispering, declaring it safe while he clasps his hand with Loralie and walks out. “Hi, could I help you?” Harry asks, looking at the mother and son. The woman politely smiles, her hand resting on her toddlers back- Harry knows him, he teaches the preschoolers art every Wednesday and he just had this little boy in his class today so he must be in Loralies class. 

“Um, he left his folder down here today. It's got the baby shark stuff on it and it says Milo on it in gold sharpie. Mrs. Hannah had told me that it would probably be down here.” the woman says, their children apparently knowing each other because they are already talking. Harry was right, he is in Loralies class. Harry turns back to his desk with a smile on his face, “here.” he says, walking back. “I was gonna give it to Mrs. Hannah so he could get it back first thing in the morning.” 

She smiles, taking it from his hands. She notes how his hands are rather large and stained in different colors of paint, even a couple of his rings have splatters of paint over them- but they all seem to be to be only for fashion not a wedding ring. “Thank you. And Mrs. Hannah told me what Loralie did today, she's such a sweetheart.” Harry furrows his eyebrows a bit, confused, “oh! Sorry, she sat with him during story time. He's kinda shy so it was really nice of her, she seems to really get him to branch out.” she looks down at her son and smiles seeing him talk to the girl. 

“Oh, yeah. Thank you.” Harry smiles, finally letting go of the folder. She smiles, turning away and pulling Milo up on her hip, bidding the both of them a good bye. “Oh, I never caught your name.” Harry says, turning his chin up. She turned her head back smiling, “Y/n.” Harry smiles at her teasing tone, his cheeks turning the lightest shade of pink. “I'm Harry.” 

Eventually Harry takes Loralie home, bringing them back to their small home. Harry knows its small, it got two bedrooms- one that isn't even used because Loralie sleeps in his bed with him every night (he's a single parents and he's not taking anyone home- it's just what happens), a small cramped kitchen, only one full bathroom then just a half one in the master bedroom, a normal sized living room, then a small dining room. It's not perfect but it's perfect for them, there are only two people, one man and a mini monster running around. 

“Dinner then a bath, my love. You know the drill.” Harry hollers over to Loralie who is laying in the living room and playing with her stuffed animals while paw patrol plays in the background. He pushes over the markers on the table, setting down her plate waiting for her to crawl up and eat what he had prepared for her. She joins him soon, digging into the pesto pasta and fruit he prepared. “So, what was the best part of your day, baby?” Harry asks, smiling at his daughter and setting down his own plate while she sips at her sippy cup. 

“Seeing daddy!” she yells, making Harry laugh. He smiles kissing her nose, “My favorite part was seeing you*, munchkin.” He smiles, making her squeal, shoving fruit in her mouth. Harry kisses her hand looking at her in adoration, he's so happy he has his little girl. 

**

“Bubbles, daddy.” Loralie says, collecting the bubbles from her bath into her hand and blowing them. Harry nods, smiling, continuing to lather her hair. “What do you think about Milo, baby?” He asks, not being able to get his mind off of what had happened just before him and Loralie left.

Loralie looks up at him, “Milo?” She asks, her cheeks turning blush from the bath. Harry nods, giving her a warm smile while he cups his hand in front of her forehead to prevent any shampoo getting in her eyes before he starts to wash it out. “Nice.” She says, Harry nodding his head along with her. 

Harry wishes he got to know Milo's mother a bit more. She seemed like someone that he would like. She was so sweet and her teasing tone made him even more attracted to her, she was gorgeous, and not to mention he didn't see a ring on her finger. Harry continues her bath, pulling her out and changing her into her pajamas. His mind wanders off a bit, thinking about the pretty woman he met today. He hopes he will see her again and little does he know she hopes she will see him again. 

“Let's go to bed, baby.”

tag list: @romionefp @iaalien @hopeyoustaythenight @evanjh if you dont want to be on the tag list for this series please let me know but if you want to be on it please let me know as well !!!

[violettelueur]

— ITADORI YUJI + FUSHIGURO MEGUMI + KUGISAKI NOBARA || COMFORTING THEIR S/O DURING THEIR PERIOD

↳ featuring : itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi + kugisaki nobara from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : grammar issues

↳ form : headcanons

↳ published : 27 january

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ request : hello!! I love ur blog sm it’s so cozy and safe!! i just wanted to order a black coffee of being comforted and taken care of by the main three (yuuji, megumi, and nobara) when the reader is on their period ;-; tysm!! ❤️❤️

↳ barista’s notes : hi there! let me admit this about my time of the month, i only get cramps/backache on like the first day and people tell me they don’t realise i’m not my time since i don’t have mood swings - which is surprising because i thought i did  ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ other than that, i hope you enjoy your cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and come to the cafe again soon ʕ￫ᴥ￩　ʔ

The day your period arrives, Itadori will have no idea and will probably be confused about why one second you are angry and the next you are crying - he is just a confused little baby.

Of course, Kugisaki will call him an idiot and will inform him that you are on your period if he hasn’t figured it out yet.

Once he comes into your room and finds you huddling under a mountain of blankets, he will slowly and carefully crouch down to your height and ask if you need anything - since asking if you were okay was not the ideal question (also advised by Kugisaki).

To be honest with you, all the knowledge and advice he has gotten about periods is from Kugisaki - I feel like she made him pay as well for lessons.

Of course, if you tell him you buy you chocolates, he will come back from the convenience store with more than that like snacks, water, chocolate, sweets, ice-cream and pads/tampons.

Just know there are multiple types of pads/tampons in the plastic bag because he doesn’t know what to pick for you and, of course, you thank him because you know he tried his best.

He will also provide you with a hot water bottle that probably has a cute animal cover on it for you since he doesn’t want the heat as well as plastic to burn your skin.

Itadori will cuddle you if you ask for it while placing his hand on your lower stomach to help soothe the cramps with your permission of course.

He will also set up yours or his laptop to watch movies and anime together, he will probably eat some of the snacks he has bought you - which made him learn to buy his whole for the next month.

Sometimes both you and Itadori will have a game night together, where you both would have your Nintendo Switches - which I don’t have personally - and probably play Animal Crossing - New Horizons to help make you forget your pain.

Sukuna will mock him for being a tiny bit scared at your aggressive behaviour when your mood suddenly switches.

In conclusion, Itadori is someone that will be wary around you since he doesn’t want a Kugisaki 2.0 to be his girlfriend but will try his best to make you feel the least amount of pain as much as he can.

Unlike Itadori, Fushiguro will know when you have started since he does have an older sister as well as two female cousins within his family.

When you had your first period during yours and Fushiguro’s relationship, he probably marked it on his calendar and has it on a series for it every month.

Fushiguro knows that you will come to his room when you are on and just flat drop flat on his bed because his scent helps you to forget the pain - this happens with me like sometimes the smell of lavender helps with my cramps...maybe it’s just me.

You probably know this but Fushiguro has all the essentials you need in his dorm kitchen and bathroom because of your monthly visits - he is prepared and very organised.

He will make sure you have eaten first before giving you painkillers since he wants you to feel somewhat better than you are now.

Fushiguro will summon one of his rabbits for you to cuddle with since he knows that some sort of warmth helps you - the thing is once the rabbit is in your arms, it is not escaping.

If you are having back pains, Fushiguro will help you by massaging your back to help comfort you - his divine dog will probably use its paws to help as well or maybe the rabbits will bounce on your back, I don’t know.

If you ask for something, Fushiguro is already on it and has it prepared as I have mentioned - he just doesn’t want to deal with your sudden lack of patience since he knows that you can get irritated very quickly.

If you suddenly start crying, it is over for Fushiguro because he wouldn’t know how to comfort you - his shikigami will do a better job than him and if Kugisaki was with him, she would yell at him 100%.

He would start by holding you in his arms but he will be stiff, of course, that doesn’t matter because you will tightly hold him back - which surprises him since for some reason this hug is stronger than your other ones.

If you want cuddles from him, he will be hesitant at first because of your mood swings, but once you give him the puppy dog eyes, he can’t resist you and will join you under his covers.

In conclusion, your monthly visit to Fushiguro’s dorms is one of his favourites because that means he gets to come back from missions and find you in his room, he is always prepared and ready to handle the situation - even though, he is quite wary of the short-temper that you have for the next 5-7 days.

The expert of periods is here! Kugisaki Nobara is the one to be with when you have your period because this girl probably knows everything compared to Itadori and Fushiguro.

When I think about it, she probably has spare pads/tampons in her bags/pockets and will offer one to you when you need it.

However, unlike Fushiguro, she probably doesn’t have any painkillers with her and will probably have to make a trip for you to get some or ask Fushiguro if he has any to save time.

You don’t have to worry about snacks because I know she has a stash of sweets and cakes in her dorm room and will give you some of it - mostly likey chocolate cake or chocolate-covered strawberries.

She already has a water bottle prepared for you as well as a back massager because she is boujee with that Jujutsu Tech money that she has been provided with.

Like Itadori, you and Kugisaki will play games together - I feel like people forget she’s a gamer since she did mention Smash Bro’s in the anime and little scenarios in the manga as well - especially battle games as a way to release your anger from the pain you are suffering from.

If you ever cry about being ugly - because we are emotional - she will hype you up with an angry tone: “WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT BABE? YOU ARE GORGEOUS, THE MOST BEAUTIFUL, STRONG AND AMAZING, DONT SAY ANYTHING OTHER THAN THAT!”

Kugisaki will also do your makeup since she wants you to feel your most beautiful since she and you know that breakouts during periods are just not it.

She will also help you with your skincare and probably introduced to some new products along the way since why not? 

You and Kugisaki will cuddle a lot during the beginning week and you both will probably have matching pyjamas on because you both just give off cute couple outfits vibes even when you both don’t go out.

Sometimes during your cuddling sessions, you and Kugisaki will be looking at her phone swiping through a few clothing sites and suggesting what you both should buy for your next date together and maybe research a few new cafes to try out.

Definitely will send cute selfies together to help you feel beautiful to the boys on the group chat because they need to know that you are in pain and they should send their condolences.

Netflix and ice-cream will be an everyday thing for the whole week you are on and to be honest, it is better than any date because you both are together with no distractions.

In conclusion, Kugisaki will make the time during your period a self-care girl’s week for the both of you and this will happen when she is on as well - and please, when you are both on, it is a nightmare for Itadori and Fushiguro (they will be nervous and avoid you both)

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[ijustwant2write]

Always Mine-John Shelby x Reader

(GIF credit to @tommyshhelby​)

Requested by anonymous: ‘Can you please do a imagine where y/n and John were childhood sweethearts (no Martha) and she has known the peaky blinders her whole life and they love her too but then John has to marry esme and even though tommy does feel bad he does it anyway.Y/n works in the betting house so they see eachother every day she acts like it doesn’t bother her but is obviously a bit distant with John who is still inlove with her but she is respectful of the marriage so when Michael comes in he has a crush on y/n and kinda flirts with her and John gets jealous not sure if it’s a John or Micheal imagine your choice’

Characters: John Shelby x Reader, Thomas Shelby x Reader (platonic), Michael Gray x Reader (platonic), Polly Gray x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name  (Y/L/N)=Your last name

Warnings: Heartbreak, swearing, mentions/intentions of sex, arguing, violence, slight fluff

                                          *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Heartbreak, many people went through it, many people wanted to avoid it. Although your heart wasn’t physically damaged, it felt like it was. Humans often forget how strong their emotions are. Emotions are part of our survival, they determine how we live, it controls our day, what decisions we make. Unfortunately to live, we had to experience sadness. You could turn it around and say that the bad times made the good times stronger, more enjoyable. But it’s hard to think positively when you’re stuck in a terrible situation. 

“He....He’s getting married?” I whispered out, clutching onto my dressing gown as the cold air blew into the house.

Tommy was stood outside, I had invited him inside, but I was glad I hadn’t now.“Today/ I’m sorry (Y/N), it has to be done.”

“Why? Why wouldn’t he tell me?”

“John doesn’t know. And you can’t tell him.”

“Why are you telling me this? I could easily run to him now and tell him.”

“If you do that, you’ll put us all in danger.”

I was growing more angry by the second.“Aren’t you always in danger?”

“This is different. It will benefit the whole family, the Peaky Blinders. He has to do this (Y/N).”

I shook my head at him, crossing my arms over my chest. What with it being so early in the morning, no one else was out in the street, it was slightly dark, with a low fog roaming the streets.“You know I love him. You know how we feel about each other. I’m just confused. Why would you tell me this before they get married? I could go tell him, we could run away together like we said we would since we were fifteen.”

“Because I love you (Y/N). You’re basically family. It felt wrong not to. But I can’t lose you at work either. You need to stay.”

I scoffed.“I can’t believe this! You really think I’m going to stay and see the man I love everyday with a wedding ring on his finger? I can write up my resignation now if you want-”

“(Y/N)-”

“Honestly Tommy, this is taking the piss. You get away with a lot of shit, but this is just fantastic-”

“(Y/N)!”

“Wait here, I’ll get a pen and some paper-”

“(Y/N) would you just listen for a second!?” he yelled, silencing me.“You would be as equally angry with me if I told you after. Just be happy that I mentioned it at all.”

That had been the longest day of my life. Knowing that my worst fear had come true, the man I loved was marrying someone else, made time move at an incredibly slow pace. Part of me pondered crashing the wedding, if I knew where it was or who he was marrying, but I knew that Tommy was partly right. He had a huge responsibility to keep control of his power, but the way he manipulated his family infuriated me. 

“John, are you sure you want to marry me?” I said to him as we laid down in a field.

“You’re really asking that after what we just did?” he asked, doing up his trousers.

“Well, Susanne and Jack do the same as us, and he hasn’t asked her.” my (not so) innocent seventeen year old self pointed out.

“Believe me, I would not be suggesting that sort of thing if I didn’t mean it.”

“So you don’t ask every girl you fuck to marry you?” I teased.

He leaned over me.“I haven’t slept with that many.”

I rolled my eyes.“I don’t care how many girls you fucked before me. As long as I’m the one who gets this sort of treatment for the rest of your life, I’m happy.”

He smirked, kissing me.“You’ve been the best out of all of them.”

“Because I do anything you want.”

He leaned down to my ear, whispering,“Because you feel fucking amazing.”

I blushed, wishing I was able to tease him more.“I’m serious John, that’s a serious commitment.”

Although we were being flirty, I knew when he was being truthful.“(Y/N), I don’t want anything else. I want you beside me. My family loves you, you’re already a Shelby in their eyes, and mine. I know they say we’re young, but these feelings I have for you re strong. I wake up thinking about you, I see other women and think, my (Y/N) is so much prettier than you. And yes, thinking about you writhing and moaning beneath me is pleasurable,” I playfully punched his shoulder, which he laughed at,“but imagining you at home with the kids, waiting for me to come back and embracing me as soon as I step foot in our house, that’s all I could ever ask for in life.”

I sobbed as I thought about that memory. We were so happy back then. We were carefree, easily daydreaming about what could have been. Then harsh reality hit us in the face. He was being forced into an arrangement with some wild gypsy girl. We were supposed to be married, I was the one whose last name should have been Shelby. 

I didn’t want to hear about the wedding day. I knew that Pol, Ada or any other woman in that betting shop wouldn’t mention it in front of me.Though how was I ever to stop thinking about how the man I loved was married to someone else when I worked with him? And his new wife? Esme also had no say in this, she had been unruly and apparently the only way to sort that was to marry her off. But why did she have to work here too? She hated it here, she could never sit still. It was in her nature to be outside all the time, to run free and wildly along with the horses. Not cramped up in a betting shop counting money, surrounded by the lowest of men. Having to sit across from her as I worked was torture, seeing the wedding band made my stomach turn.

"(Y/N)?" John called me, standing in the doorway of his office.

I caught Esme glancing towards me, though I didn't care. It wasn't as if anything was about to happen, John hadn't even spoken to me since they married, not properly anyway. I had been civil towards his wife, but only speaking to her when I absolutely had to. Quietly sighing, I closed the book I had been writing in, picking up a smaller notebook and pen before entering his office. Some workers were peeking at us, they knew the drama, and it didn't help that his office was basically made of windows, meaning everyone could see us.

"You can sit down, you know you can." John gestured to the chair across from his desk, though he didn't sit.

I said nothing back.He groaned.

"Come on (Y/N), you know I hated when you gave me the silent treatment."

"Is there something you needed from me Mr Shelby?"

"You know, that only sounded nice coming from you when we were in a different environment." he smirked, thinking I would break. He was absolutely wrong.

"I have a lot of work to be getting on with-"

"I don't love her."

My eyes widened, and I kept my voice low."For fucks sake John, we shouldn't be talking about this here."

"You know I don't!" he stood in front of me, but I quickly backed away, not wanting to draw attention to ourselves."She's some random gypsy Tommy picked up on the side of the road. Esme isn't you."

"And yet you're stuck with her. So let bygones be bygones. Did you actually need me?"

"I always need you, and I will always want you."

"Right, thank you for wasting my time sir."

I promptly left, feeling my throat get tight as I pushed back my tears. If I spoke another word, my voice would crack, giving away how I truly felt. Instead of returning to where I was originally sat, I headed to the kitchen, not wanting to see Esme. It was obvious her gaze was on me as I brushed past, though I took no notice. Once there, I made myself busy filling the kettle with water and beginning to make tea, just to distract myself. As it boiled, I gripped onto the edge of the counter, painfully holding back my sobs. I couldn’t do this for the rest of my life, it was emotionally exhausting, it was torturous.

“You can’t keep up this act forever.” Polly appeared.

I didn’t bother facing her.“I know. I already told Tom I would hand him my resignation letter, he refused.”

“No, we can’t lose you, even if we had enough staff. I want you to know that I had nothing to do with that. You know what Tommy is like with his ‘big ideas’.”

I finally looked at her.“My worst fear came true. He’s with someone else. He’s married, but not to me. It’s been in our heads for so long, it was all too good to be true.”

Before Polly could speak, I saw her glance behind me. Turning around, I saw Esme standing in the doorway, her usual scowl on her face as she grabbed a mug from a cupboard.

“I’m assuming you brewed a full pot?” she asked.

“Yes.” I replied. 

She put her mug beside mine, making sure it thudded against the counter. When she left, I ran my hands down my face, seriously considering walking out. Polly decided to not add anything. We would just go in circles, trying to cheer me up, reassure me, convince me to stay etc.

Managing to get through the rest of the day, I sighed in relief and tiredness as everyone started to pack their things. Putting on my coat, I smiled at one my colleagues who was approaching me.

“John has asked for you.” they warily said.

I rolled my eyes.“Did he say what he wants?”

He shook his head.“Sorry, wants you in there soon as.”

I thanked him as he left, along with everyone else. Esme held back, obviously glaring at me. She disappeared into John’s office for less than a minute before walking out again, leaving without her husband. I watched the door shut, leaving just John and I. My stomach twisted, heart beating incredibly loudly in my ears as I took my first few steps to his office. I stood in the doorway, hating that he was already looking at me, I was incredibly nervous. 

He stood from his chair.“(Y/N)-” 

“Please tell me this is about work.”

“I need to speak to you.”

“John, I can’t do this. We’re finished now-”

I started to walk away, not surprised when he followed, but shocked when he grabbed me, turning me around to face him.

“I know you feel the same as me. I can’t fucking stand it! I don’t want to be married to her. I don’t want to fuck her in our bed. I’ve only ever imagined coming home to see you there, not her!”

“Well that won’t happen now, will it?!” I snapped back, trying to make him let go of my arms.

As I struggled, John was able to keep a grasp on me.“It can! We’ll figure out a way! But I need to kiss you. I need to be able to hold you in my arms, to really feel you. I want to keep planning our future together.”

“Tommy has made his decision, and with this family, anything he says goes! You really think we could change any of this? Even if we did, imagine the trouble you would all be in.”

“I don’t care. I would take ten bullets to the chest if it meant being with you.”

“You can’t be saying things like that.”

His eyes were crazy, staring into my soul, fingers pressing into my skin. I felt him pull me closer, it was ever so slow, and I could have stopped it. But I didn’t. We cautiously leaned in for a kiss, making memories and feelings flood back. His hands relaxed, moving up to cup my face. The passion didn’t last long, because before I knew it, I was being pushed back against a desk, clumsily lying on my back. John wasted no time to touch my breasts, continuing to kiss me as it slid down my body, disappearing up my skirt. Although it was extremely tempting to carry on, the weighing guilt made me stop him.

“John.” I breathed out, giving him the wrong idea as he kept going, sucking on my neck. I pushed against him.“John, stop.”

He pulled away.“What? What’s wrong?” he went straight back down to my neck, trying to unbutton my blouse.

“Stop!” I said a little louder, managing to sit up and push him away.

“(Y/N), I know it’s been a while but-”

“It’s not that, you idiot! You’re married!”

“To a woman I don’t love!” 

I let out a frustrated scream, buttoning up my blouse again as I stood.“I’m not going to be that woman sleeping with married men, I’m not a whore!”

“Why are you denying your feelings? We were supposed to get married.”

“We were kids back then.”

He pointed an accusing finger at me.“I said that to you every year, we were always waiting for the right time!”

“Life doesn’t always work out John!” I yelled.“This is just as agonising to me as it is to you! But if we ruin this, the Lee’s are going to come for you all, and there’s already enough on your plates to deal with them.”

“I don’t give a fuck about them-”

“But I give a fuck about you living!” I snatched up my coat and handbag, pushing past him towards the door. With my hand on the handle, I calmed down before speaking again.“Obviously we weren’t meant to be. Though at least we didn’t take our time together for granted. Don’t try any of that again John, I mean it.”

For the next week, I didn’t utter a word to John, I didn’t even glance in his direction. I considered sending in my resignation. But after thinking about it, I knew I couldn’t bring myself to do it. These people were my family, I grew up  in this business. If I left, I had a slim chance of finding a normal job, because everyone knew who I was associated with. Why would anyone risk taking on someone who was involved with the Peaky Blinders? I was paid more than I should have been for my position, and they trusted me with anything; it would be stupid of me to throw that away and lose everything I worked so hard for. 

Surprisingly, Esme hadn’t piped up towards me in that time. I thought she might say something, even if she wasn’t triggered, due to her fiery personality. However, John had been relentless with his attempts to make me speak to him, even trying to trap me in the vault with him. I couldn’t break, I couldn’t let him get to me again. As much as my heart ached for him, as much as I wanted him to grab my face and kiss me again, I would never break a marriage. The guilt that would live with me fr the rest of my life was too much to bear. 

At the beginning of another day, I had just breezed into the shop when Lizzie approached me.“(Y/N), Tommy wants to see you.”

I sighed.“Did he say why?”

She shook her head.“You know what he’s like. But he’s asking for you now.”

I didn’t bother taking off my coat or setting my bag down, following Lizzie to his office. She knocked before opening the door, letting me walk in before closing it behind me, and I was left with Tommy, who was hunched over his desk as he looked through papers; however, there was also another man, a younger man.

“Come in (Y/N), let me introduce you to someone.” Tommy stood, setting the papers aside.

My steps were slower than they usually would be as I analysed the stranger. He looked younger than me, but not by that many years. His hat was in his hands, and although he wore a suit, it wasn’t like the ones the Shelby boys wore. His hair was slightly curly, not slicked back or short like most men around Small Heath, and he seemed shy, maybe more reclusive.

“I’m Michael.” he offered his hand out which I shook.

“I’m (Y/N).” I politely smiled.

“(Y/N) is basically family and has worked with us from the beginning.” Tommy explained.“This boy here, (Y/N), is Polly’s son.”

My eyes widened at Tommy as I let go of Michael’s hand.“Wait, you mean...the children she was always talking about...?”

“I’ve come back to find out about my real family. And to start working here too.” Michael added.

“So I need you to keep a close eye on him, help him with whatever he needs. (Y/N) knows the ins and outs of this place, she’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

For the rest of the day, Michael shadowed one of the workers that dealt with the winnings, counting money and figuring out how to run the shop floor. I would occasionally pop up when I thought he needed someone kinder and quiet to help, or just to check on him. He was sweet, but that wouldn’t help him in this environment. Luckily, Michael made it hard for John to bother me, he didn’t have the usual opportunities to bombard me with questions about why I didn’t want to fight for what we had. My shift finished quickly, it seemed like I had only been there an hour and we were already leaving.

“Come on Michael, let me take you for a drink. You deserve it after today.” I offered as we walked out of the shop.

He was hesitant before smiling.“Alright then. Where should we go?”

“We’ll go to the Garrison, your cousins are basically royalty there, meaning we are too. And don’t worry about your mum, she would rather you be with me than with the boys.”

Happily greeting Harry as we walked into the pub, he nudged the other bartender to get my usual drink. After asking Michael what he wanted, I called it out to Harry before disappearing into the private room.

“We’re allowed in here?” Michael asked.

“Yeah, don’t worry. Like Tommy said, I’m family.” the window opened, a bartender passing us our drinks.“So, how did you end up in a place like this?”

We indulged in a conversation about Michael’s life growing up. It wasn’t a good upbringing, he had been through a lot of hardships as a child, and now being thrown into a completely different life was only adding to the confusion he had growing up, but he wanted to be independent. Get away from the boring country and work in an interesting job. 

Michael glanced down at his drink, seeming hesitant to speak.“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but is there something between you and John? I thought he was married to Esme.” 

I scoffed.“He is. Seems to keep forgetting that.”

“Sorry, I shouldn't have asked-”

“It’s fine. You’re family, you should know what’s going on. We...wow, I’ve never actually spoken about this. John and I developed feelings for each other as we grew up, we became a couple. We always said we would get married, anyone could see we were deeply in love. However, Tommy arranged a marriage between John and Esme, it was to form a truce between the Shelby’s and the Lee family, Esme’s family.”

“That’s horrible. Tommy still did that even though he knew you two were together?”

“Yep.” I downed the rest of my drink.“Welcome to the family business.”

“I understand the need for a truce but...”

“I know what you’re thinking. Although it was heartbreaking, I know nothing can be done about it. And I am not a home wrecker!”

He was shocked by my snappy tone.“I-I didn’t say you were.”

“I know, force of habit.”

The door opened, the Shelby brothers walking in, and only three of them smiled at us, it was obvious who didn’t. They greeted us as they sat, the window opening instantly with their drinks on the tray. Michael and I were still tense from our talk, though tried not to show it as Arthur began rambling on about something stupid Finn had done that day. I tried my hardest to listen, though it was hard to when I could feel John’s eyes on me, and he was angry. Everyone else could tell as well, but they didn’t want to deal with John’s attitude right now. After Arthur finished his story, I excused myself to the ladies room, needing to relax. Unfortunately, I couldn’t even go to the loo without any disruption.

“Why the fuck are you here with him?” John demanded to know as he followed me in. 

“John! You can’t be in here!” I snapped.

“There’s no other women here yet! Answer me.”

“He’s a new colleague, someone Tommy told me to look after today. Not to mention he’s your cousin. I was being nice to him.”

“You say you still love me yet here you are with another man.” the rage in his eyes was growing more intense by the second.

“Oh for fucks sake John.” I rolled my eyes.“Why on Earth why I be so stupid to move on with another Shelby?”

“The fuck are you saying?”

“I’ve been battling with myself whether to leave this job because of you! It was terrible enough to be in the same room as you and your wife, but trying to avoid you all day is exhausting. You have to stop trying to make us work.”

His breathing was getting faster, and he hastily grabbed my hands.“But why can’t we just hide it? Maybe after a while I’ll be able to divorce her.”

“I can’t sit around and wait for you! I’ll always love you John, but you can’t expect me to not go on living my life whilst I wait for something that may never happen. And you’re telling me that in that time, you won’t have sex with her, you won’t give her the children she wants? Because I’m not fucking you behind her back.”

He groaned, pulling away from me and turning around, suddenly hitting a stall door, causing me to flinch at the movement and sound. Instinctively, I started backing away, scared that he might flip and accidentally hurt me in his rage.

“It’s not fucking fair!” he yelled.

“John, calm down!” I said, trying not to shout back, needing him to be calm.

“Why was I the one that had to get married?! Why wasn’t it Arthur or even Finn? They know we’re in love! I wanted you to be my fucking wife! And now you’re not even fighting for us!”

I scowled at him, screaming just as loud at him now.“How dare you?! John, there is nothing to fight for anymore! Yes, we still love each other, and I would give anything to be with you again! I would kill for you, you know that. But we need to move on from this. I’m staying at work for now, just until I’ve got enough to move somewhere else, and then I’m gone. I’m not staying where I got my heart broken.”

“You can’t leave.”

“I will. This feels like someone is punishing me for something terrible that I’ve done, but for the life of me I can not think what that could be. I’m done with this John. I don’t want to wake up every morning dreading to go to the shop, being distracted from my work because I’m dreading that you’ll corner me and we’ll get caught doing something we shouldn’t be. I feel like I’ve aged since the day you married, just from the stress.”

“(Y/N), please, just give it more time, we can work something out-”

“No! John just shut the fuck up and listen to what I’m saying! Leave me alone, leave what we had in the past. You’re married now, and I don’t want to have an affair, not just because of the Lee’s but because of the moral of it all. I...I just need to go home.”

“You’re not leaving-”

He grabbed my arm forcefully, and in defence I slapped him around the face. He recoiled his hand as he went into shock, giving me a chance to escape. However, he kept calling my name as I rushed off, seeing the boys standing at the bar, obviously having heard everything. I pushed past them, bursting into the private room to grab my things before leaving the pub. The others were also telling me to come back, wondering what was wrong.

“Don’t follow me! Leave me alone!” I screeched before turning away from them. 

I felt light headed as I stormed home. There was so much to take in, too much had been said in such a short amount of time. Though I knew I had spoken my truth, even if it was the hardest thing I had ever admitted. John and I couldn’t be. Perhaps it was never meant to happen, and we needed to grow up, move on from our childhood dreams of us being together. I couldn’t dwell on it, I was right when I said I couldn’t put my life on pause to wait for him, which I knew would never happen. Until I knew what I could do to move on and away from everyone, I hoped that our argument had sent a message to John, and I wouldn’t have to suffer as much as I had been. Not for much longer, I am going to be happy.

[tatestripedsweater]

Crimson Sheets

Plot: James certainly wasn’t afraid of a little blood, so when your period arrived he took great pleasure in easing those cramps of yours

James Patrick March X Fem!Reader

Warning: Blood Kink, Oral (Female Recieving), Period Sex

Word Count: 2,271

A/N: If any of these ^ aren’t your thing simply don’t read, the warnings there for a reason dears. I tried my best with his smut, hope you enjoy!

Protective was an understatement of how you’d describe James, if anyone was looking in your direction one quick glare from him and they’d be gone. Quite literally after a few hours.

So when he saw you curled up in the bed you two shared; which was mostly used for fucking, his heart sank. Small whimpers left your lips as the sheets covered your figure, he often liked whimpers escaping your throat but this was a completely different scenario entirely.

It’s not that he hadn’t been with you when you were on your period, you just simply tried to avoid any attention to which he’d figure it out.

‘’My darling.. who do I need to kill?’’ Kneeling beside you by the bed, his big hand moved your hair back so he could see your face properly. Your eyes red and puffy, he would hurt the person who had put you in this state, part of him had a suspicion that it’s Elizabeth.

‘’No one.. it’s nothing James..” He could always tell when you lied, your voice went high and you couldn’t bare to look him in the eyes. James’ jaw clenched as he tried to compose himself, not wanting you to see the rage inside him with you in this fragile state.

‘’Darling.. dearest.. tell me’’ The pet names he called you made your heart flutter, even though you both came from different eras in the world you could help but fall for the man kneeled by you. Yes he was a killer, and the anger in him sometimes frightened you but he was the only man that you had been with that out your needs first.

‘’I’m bleeding..’’ The anger went from his eyes and it soon turned to worry, lifting up the sheets he saw no evidence of the red substance. He was acting like a doctor, examining you for any injuries. ‘’I meant between my legs James..’’

‘’Oh..’’ You half expected him to walk away, back in his day women rarely spoke of such a thing, just suffered in silence. But the smirk on his face said otherwise, what was going through that brain of his? ‘’Darling you should’ve just told me, I am sure I know a way to ease your pain’’

Before you could even question him James had already moved so he was kneeled above you, his tall stature made you feel tiny. You sometimes wondered how you got so lucky, he could have any women he wanted yet he picked you.

‘’ I hear orgasms ease a females menstrual pains my dear, so that is what I’ll give you’’ Before you could even protest to the idea he lifted your night dress, James cold lips caressed the skin of your stomach before leaving open mouthed kisses on soft and supple skin.

A groan left his lips when he heard the noises that was leaving yours, anyone would think you hadn’t been touched like this before, James knew how sensitive you were to his touch and used that knowledge to his advantage. Kissing his way down to your stomach he saw a glint of fear in your eyes, James could tell no man has ever pleasured you through on your period but he wasn’t going to stop. Not even for a little bit of blood.

‘’Darling I take the lives of others, I practically bathe in their blood, this inconvenience of yours is not going to bother me one bit’’ Using his teeth he peeled of your underwear down your thighs, he knew just how to get you writhing under him. From the material of your underwear grazing against your skin as he pulled them down made goosebumps appear on your skin, he couldn’t help but let out a dark chuckle at how sensitive you are.

Looking away you felt your cheeks go bright red as he looked between your thighs, you couldn’t even respond but only with a moan as soon as his lips wrapped themselves around your clit. James’ hands pressing down against your stomach as he held you in place, he felt himself get harder with each moan that you let out.

He didn’t even complain of the taste, in fact he loved it. The mixture of your cunts natural wetness and the copper of the blood was enough to make him grind down against the bed as he lay between your legs. Squeezing his head between your thighs he pried them back open, even in times like this James wanted complete and utter control over you.

‘’J-James..’’ Leaning your head back against the pillow you took everything he was giving to you, his tongue was like magic. Moving a hand down you gripped onto his raven hair, which made him not only groan against you but nipple slightly on your clit. The sudden feeling made you jolt ever so slightly, a smirk plastered across his face.

‘’Be careful with pulling my hair dearest, you know how excited that makes me’’ Oh you did indeed, the first time you done it, it was my accident, but the reaction you got out of him was enough to make your underwear from to your ankles.

Teasing your cunt he parted your lips with his fingers as his mouth still assaulted your clit, using his index and middle finger he thrusted them inside you. Your moans were getting louder with each stroke of his fingers and every suckle of your clit, but he didn’t dare stop now, not with you completely under his control.

You hoped to god he wasn’t going to stop, you felt like you were in heaven, as soon as your legs started to tremble James just knew he had you right on the edge. He was like a starving man taking his last meal, James could spend hours between your legs with no complaints what so ever. Curling his fingers inside you, James hit the spot, he knew just from the way your hips bucked and how you cried out his name like a mantre.

‘’James please!’’ A mixture of curse words and his name left your lips as your orgasm started to take over, you felt like fire was pooling down in your stomach. It wasn’t a bad feeling, not at all, it was the most pleasurable moment you had experienced. Your knuckles turned white as you gripped onto the bed sheets for dear life, James’ eyes were on you the whole time as he worked you through your orgasm.

‘’There she is..’’ He muttered against your cunt as he slowed down to ease you from your high, you were like an angel to him. It was like light had surrounded you, the only pure thing he had in his life yet you were like a whore in the bedroom. His to take as he pleaded, and he certainly didn’t hear any complaints from you.

Slowly pulling away he got back up on his knees, and the sight before you was enough to make a nun swear, from the tip of his nose all the way around his mouth was covered in your blood. Licking his lips he hummed in satisfaction, at this point you didn’t even care about the bedsheets Mrs Evers had to clean after this, the way James looked deemed him a wild animal.

‘’Now dear, let’s get to fucking that cute cunt shall we?’’ The expression on his face was absolutely sinful, and you were sure you’d be welcomed into hell when the time came.

Unbuckling his belt and throwing it somewhere forgotten, he pulled his clothes off with ease. He was like a god, but telling him that was surely going to boost his ego so instead you kept it to yourself. James’ cock was purple around the tip due to it being confined within his clothing. Pre cum ran down the underside of his of cock, growling he saw you bite your lip, knowing exactly what was going through your mind in that moment.

‘’Later, right now this is about you dear’’ James lifted your legs up and around his waist, pulling you closer to him. His cock run across your slit teasingly slow, blood coating his cock as he fired James knew what he was doing to you and he loved it. He had you purring like a kitten and the man hasn’t even fucked you yet, there was one thing about James and that’s that he liked to tease. Wanted you to beg for what you so craved, wanted to hear you tell him how you wanted it.

‘’Please.. use me, I’m yours..’’ Oh you certainly were, and he reminded you each day. Whining as his names dug into your hips, leaving half moon shapes, his hips snapped forward as his cock filled you up deliciously.

‘’Oh that’s it! Take my cock darling!’’ He snarled with each thrust of his hips, he kept it hard and fast, the sheets below you looked like someone had been murdered and honestly it wasn’t the first time that happened within this room.

You were screaming underneath him, the whole hotel was sure enough to hear the both of you. Looking up at him desperately your eyes met his dark ones, the bed was creaking under you both, the headboard banging against the wall. ‘’D-dont stop!’’

‘’I don’t plan too darling!’’ James leaned down and moved your legs up and over his shoulders, the new angle forcing his cock deeper inside you. His hand met the back of your head, pulling your hair tightly to which forced your head up, leaving your neck exposed.

James’ lips met your neck in a hot frenzy, biting down hard on the flesh until he was satisfied with the purple mark leaving in his wake. The only noises in the room were that off you both moaning, and skin slapping together and the wet noise of his cock thrusting inside your cunt, his balls hit your ass with each thrust and you were sure there were going to be bruises just from that.

Sweat formed on your skin, the light making it glisten. His stamina was something you’ve never came across before, I guess that was a perk of being dead, he could go on forever if he could but you, still alive and well could not.

You were careful not to touch the scars on his back, knowing that he’d disapprove and anger him, instead your nails gripped onto his ass cheeks, pulling him deeper inside you if that was even a possibility. His cock filled you up to the brim, your cunt squeezing against him like a vice had such obscene noises leaving your lovers mouth.

‘’Darling your divine, a work of art!’ He snarled each word with a hard thrust, making you squeal out. James always praised you during times like these, it wasn’t exactly gentle sex but it wasn’t the roughest he’d been with you. You were his life, and soon to be wife, Mrs March.

‘’James I don’t think I’ll last much longer..’’ He could tell, from how your legs shook on his shoulders and the squeezing of your cunt around his cock. His orgasm was dawning too much James always made sure to make you cum first, there wasn’t anyway he was going to fill you up beofre you’ve had pleasure overtake your body.

Not caring about the now dried blood around his mouth he kissed you, hungrily yet lovingly. The taste of your cunt mixed with tobacco and the metallic taste of your blood had you whining against his lips, you didn’t expect to find it so arousing, but by god you did and you certainly wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to do it again.

Holding you close he started to loose his rhythm, he was holding back from his own release and you could tell, with each thrust it was getting sloppier and sloppier. The noises your bodies made together was something out of a porn, his breath ragged as your cunt squeezed against him yet again. ‘’J-James..’’ Whimpers left your lips as you felt another orgasm approaching, the burning sensation coming back in your stomach but much stronger this time.

‘’Cum for me darling, let go’’ His voice much deeper than usual along with his words sent you over the edge, clinging onto him for dear life your cunt tightened around his cock once again, forcing a loud moan from your lovers lips. Your orgasm took over your entire body, you started to see stars, it was beautiful and erotic, arching your back as he kept thrusting even after your orgasm, he knew how sensitive you were.

‘’Fuck darling!’’ A snarl left his mouth, he sounded like a wild animal, a beast if you will. His met yours once again hungrily as his thrusts lost more rhythm before his hips stuttered against yours, growling he filled you up with his cum. The smell of blood, sweat and cum filled the room like a whores perfume, it was a scent you could get used too.

Panting heavily below him he watched you with adortion, James thought he’d never find another woman after Elizabeth but once you checked into the hotel it all changed. He had to make you his, and he did, but the fear off loosing you outside of the hotel overtook his senses everyday you left the premises.

One day he would kill you, James knew he would, with or without your consent. But for now he held your hot and sweaty figure in his arms, you completely oblivious to the plans he had in mind for the future.

[tennessoui]

1. Soulmates AU please! It is definitely my guilty pleasure trope

hello im only three months ish late maybe four but this is also 3.4k long and it's just wild i mean we're talking soul mates, superheroes, rushed world building, superhero names this is a trip this is something i wrote after waking up from a four hour nap this ever had a chance and also it's sad

1. Soul Mates (+ 42. Star Crossed Lovers)

“You shouldn’t have come,” Obi-Wan says harshly, pulling the children--they���re just goddamn children--into his apartment and slamming the door behind them. “Did anyone see you?”

The children--all four of them--stay quiet. Obi-Wan wants to wring their necks. He knows why they’re here. He’d rather them die on the streets than suffer through what they’re obviously here about.

But if that were really true, he would have just left them on his doorstep.

“Did anyone see you?” he asks again.

“Not that we noticed,” one of the girls in the middle says. Shili, dressed in a blue and white striped sensible jumpsuit and sporty cape. The leader of the new generation of superheroes and she sounds like she hasn’t even hit puberty yet.

Obi-Wan is suddenly very, very tired.

“Kam,” Shili gestures to the person next to her and a little behind, a tall boy with a helmet covering his face and white and blue armor covering the rest of him, “says he didn’t pick up anything with his sensors. We were safe. We’re not trying to get you caught, sir. We just need to talk to you.”

“You could kick us out,” the other girl points out, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s not even bothering to wear a domino mask, but Obi-Wan doubts very much he’s looking at her real appearance. She’s Mirial, of course.

Which makes the other boy in a padded white and orange suit Mando. Four of the fifty or so remaining Jedi superheroes are in his house.

Obi-Wan sighs and turns to pad down the hallway. “Shoes off,” he calls behind his shoulder. “And does anyone want any tea?”

“No thank you,” Shili responds politely, falling into step behind him.

“Sit,” he tells them roughly when he notices the four of them standing awkwardly in his cramped dining room. “Sit down.”

He puts the kettle on anyway, and bangs around the cabinets for a few seconds to find an unopened bag of chips and a sleeve of probably stale cookies.

He doesn’t have much else to offer them though. Not now.

Weren’t you the one always telling me to eat my vegetables? A laughing voice murmurs into his ear. Look at you now.

Obi-Wan has to stand for a second in his small and dirty kitchen, chips clutched in one hand and cookies in the other, and breathe for an impossibly long moment.

This is why he had not wanted to ever see another Jedi in his life. All they brought with them were questions and ghosts.

Obi-Wan has enough of those as it is.

The kettle goes off and he pours the hot water into his mug. The cowardly part of him that hasn’t faced a fight in ten years now wants to wait here until the tea has finished steeping and then think of a thousand other excuses to not ever leave the kitchen again. He's good at thinking of excuses. He calls them reasons and lives his life with them.

But he has always known someone would eventually come looking for answers. That had always been one of the prices he knew he would eventually have to pay.

He notices immediately upon entering the dining room that they’ve saved him a seat, if it counts as saving someone a seat when they’ve rearranged the chairs so one is on one side of the table and the other two are squeezed opposite it.

“I hope you don’t mind that I’ve brought snacks to my own interrogation,” he says blithely, depositing them onto the table in front of the children.

Kamino stares intently at them for a second, and then nods once to Shili, who reaches out to open the bag of chips. In a show of good faith, she takes one and eats it. Obi-Wan can’t see her eyes underneath the white lenses of her domino mask, but he’s quite sure she hasn’t stopped looking at him once.

“Are you sure you do not want tea, now we have established I am not going to poison you?” he asks, crossing his ankles and taking a sip from his own mug.

“It’s a bit too warm out there for hot tea,” Mirial says disdainfully, looking at her nails. “You know, what with the world on fire.”

“But I’d take an iced one, if you have it,” Shili leans forward.

Obi-Wan pauses, drink halfway to his mouth.

He sets it down gently on the wood of his table. “Ah. Going straight in, aren’t we?”

“There’s not much time for anything else,” Mando says, and at least he sounds a bit apologetic.

“A weighty statement from someone who can manipulate time itself,” Obi-Wan hums.

“Only for a few seconds,” Mando mutters behind his helmet, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“That’s because you don’t have much in the way of training, young man,” Obi-Wan tells him gently with a hint of steel behind it “Back in my day--”

He cuts himself off. He doesn’t know why. Clearly, they know who he used to be. Otherwise they wouldn’t be here. He’s really just delaying the inevitable, but his throat feels tight. This truth, so long unspoken, is hard to drag into his mouth. And yet, every second he doesn’t speak it, it’s bashing itself to death against the backs of his teeth.

“Would you like us to tell you what we’ve found out about your days?” Mirial asks, looking up from her nails. “Would that make it easier for you, Ilum?”

“Meer--” Shili starts to say, reaching out to touch the girl’s arm, rein her in, but it’s too late.

The planes of Mirial’s face change and shift and suddenly for the first time in ten years, Anakin Skywalker is sitting across from him. “Would you like to talk about the old days, or would you like me to talk about the old days?” Mirial in Anakin’s smooth baritone asks.

It’s cruel. It’s so cruel that for a second Obi-Wan wishes his heart could just stop from the pain of it all. “Please put that away,” he tells the tabletop coldly. “And please. Do not call me that.”

“Meer,” Shili murmurs, and there’s a shift in the air.

When Obi-Wan looks back up, Mirial is back to the way she always appears in press releases, green skin and all. “That was a decent impression,” he tells her. She bristles at the perceived slight, but he holds up his hand. “But when I knew him, his eyes weren’t gold. They were blue.”

“Mustafar has had golden eyes since he joined the Imps,” Mirial argues back in a way that reminds Obi-Wan of another young teenager, who never could learn how to take criticism well.

“And he was someone else before then,” he tells the girl. “He had another name and he had a mother and he had a soulmate and a--fiancee and everything.”

His hands have started to shake, so he clasps the mug tightly, though it burns him.

“Tell us,” Shili insists forcefully but compassionately. Obi-Wan had wondered before why they had chosen to make the girl whose only ability is to fly the leader of the newest Jedi team, but it must be that. It must be her compassion. “Please. You’re the only one who can.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan says. “I know. I’m the only one who is left. But if I am to demask myself, I will not do it to a table of strangers.”

The children turn to look at each other. Kamino cocks his head at Shili, who inclines her own head. Mirial shrugs. Mando shakes his head once, but Shili seems to override him, because she turns back to Obi-Wan and takes off her domino mask.

“My name is Ahsoka Tano,” she says, stumbling over the name. Obi-Wan wonders how many times she’s unmasked herself before. “Or Shili.”

She nudges Mirial, who sighs. “I’m Barriss,” she tells him grudgingly.

Kamino takes off his helmet to reveal a strong-jawed boy with a blond buzzcut. “His name is Rex,” Ahsoka says. “He can’t speak except through minds.”

Obi-Wan blinks in surprise at this. He had known that Kamino had an advanced sense of the senses, could tell something’s molecular makeup just by looking at it, could smell a gas leak from two miles away, etcetera, etcetera, but he hadn’t known the boy could communicate telepathically as well.

“And I’m his twin,” Mando sighs, taking off his own helmet and revealing a startlingly similar face, marred by a scar just across his temple. “Cody.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” Obi-Wan tells them, drumming his fingers on the table. “You know already. I fought under the name Ilum. I could--”

He searches for words to describe his own powers, and settles instead on a demonstration. With a flick of his hand, the liquid in the mug rises and freezes into a miniature wave, suspended in the air.

He lets the ice drop into the mug, and inclines his head to Ahsoka. “Iced tea?” he asks wryly.

“Tell us about Mustafar,” Mando demands. What a heavy thing to carry, Obi-Wan finds himself thinking. The knowledge of all that time.

What Obi-Wan wouldn’t give to be ten years younger again. Not to even change anything, though he would be stupid to not try to. But to just enjoy the moment for what it had been in the end: just a moment.

“We didn’t call him that then,” Obi-Wan sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “We called him Iego in uniform, and Anakin in civvies.

“He was...radiant. In battle and off the field. I was the leader of our team for six years until Anakin came along. And I just knew as soon as I saw him that he would take everything from me. But he wouldn’t have had to take it. I would have given it to him right then.”

“I didn’t think he was that attractive,” Ahsoka mumbles, and then slaps a hand over her mouth as if afraid she’s spoken out of turn and ruined the story so completely that Obi-Wan won’t say anything else.

Instead, Obi-Wan laughs but it doesn’t sound much like a laugh at all. “Well, to each is his own, of course,” he says when he thinks the hysteria has worn off. “And finding out he carried my soul mark certainly helped.”

The room is blissfully silent, which Obi-Wan is beyond thankful for. He just wants to let those never-before admitted truths hang in the air, just for a few more seconds. He almost wants to say them again actually. Anakin Skywalker is my soulmate. Anakin Skywalker carries the same mark I carry, and he always has.

“But…” Barriss says slowly, “But Mustafar’s soulmark is on his neck.”

“It’s not,” Obi-Wan murmurs, staring at the wall behind their heads. “What he has on his neck is an ice burn scar in the shape of a hand. In the shape of my hand. His actual soul mark is on his mid-back, right over his spine.”

“You tried to kill your soulmate?” Ahsoka gasps, looking horrified.

Obi-Wan smiles with no joy behind it. “I tried to save the world,” he corrects her gently.

“You said earlier…” Cody speaks up. “That Mustafar--that Anakin had a fiancee. It wasn’t you, was it?”

“No,” Obi-Wan admits. “I never told him. I...couldn’t. I wanted to wait I suppose. I. Well. My soulmark is identical to his, but it’s on my thigh. And. You know what they say about a soulmatch whose marks aren’t in the same spot.” “Star crossed,” Ahsoka whispers.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan confirms. “I decided to wait. I was a few years older than him, he had so much to learn, he needed a friend more than he needed a soulmate. I had a long list of reasons, all as iron-clad as the next. But they were excuses. I was afraid. This man, my soulmate, could control fire and sunlight itself. He burned with passion, shone with power. And I...I was cold. Too pragmatic, too quick to criticize when he needed praise. The marks were just marks. Maybe they fit together, maybe they matched. But I was terrified that we wouldn’t.

“And by the time I thought to tell him, he came to find me instead. He was in love, he said. He had been seeing a girl for months and was going to ask her to marry him. And I suppose I must have asked about his soulmate, because he told me he would rather never know his soulmate, if knowing meant losing her.”

So. So Obi-Wan had let him go, though that part doesn’t make for a good story. He had distanced himself as much as he could get away with, which is not much really, seeing as how Iego and Ilum fought best when they fought together.

But in the end, his heartbreak had been too much, even for someone as cold as Obi-Wan had been known to be. He’d put in for a temporary transfer. A remedial medical leave, a Jedi-sanctioned sabbatical so he could ostensibly connect with himself and his powers. Nothing longer than a year.

You’ll miss the wedding, Anakin had told him, heartbreak shining in his own eyes.

But his heartbreak had been nothing compared to Obi-Wan’s, and so he had left. He had needed to. It had felt like rending his soul in two, but he had.

Two weeks into his stay at a different Jedi training base, Obi-Wan had died in an explosion. “That hadn’t been Jedi sanctioned,” he tells the children in front of him wryly. “We thought it was an accident at the time, but there were too many coincidences. Too many casualties.” But Obi-Wan’s death had been the only casualty Anakin had felt. It hadn’t mattered that someone had managed to restart his heart only a few minutes later. He had died. He had died and Anakin had felt his soulmate die. He had burned his fiancee in his own uncontrollable agony. She had not survived Obi-Wan’s death, even though Obi-Wan himself had.

“I...I don’t know what happened. Still. It’s been years and I have thought of little else. She may have been standing too close to him when it happened. Or...the house may have caught on fire and she was trapped inside. Or...I don’t know. I don’t know,” he spreads his hands palm up on the table and looks at the faces of the children.

He sighs and continues. There is so little left in the story now. “The Jedi Order decided to tell the press that there had been no survivors, though there had been a few. We couldn’t know if the Imperials were behind the attack or not, so we had to be careful. The survivor’s families were told, and their soulmates. Officially, I had no family. I had...no soulmate. They didn’t tell anyone I had survived. Ilum died in that explosion. Still to this day, he's dead.

“Anakin had always been absurdly powerful...and dangerous. He’d killed the love of his life, had felt his soulmate dying, and then...heard that I too had died. The first two had destabilized him, but my death and the Jedi Order’s staunch rejection of his request to see my body, to give me a funeral...it made him even more vulnerable to outside manipulation.”

“The Imperials….” Cody murmurs.

Obi-Wan nods, lip curling up. “The Imperials,” he agrees. “The timeline is fuzzy. I spent a good part of these weeks partially dead, one foot in both worlds. I didn’t know what was going on. When I was well enough to watch the news, the Jedi told me there was a new super villain working with the Imperials, going by the name Mustafar. I trained to kill him as he was helping the Imps decimate the Jedi. All of my old team was dead. Anakin was missing. I didn’t--”

He cuts himself off and runs a hand down his face. The children are waiting on his words. He’s telling them why they’re fighting wars adults should be fighting. He’s telling them why they’re out in the field after only a month or less of training. He’s trying to tell them why he isn’t out there fighting with them, but he knows already they won’t accept his excuses.

They shouldn’t have to.

“They gave me a new uniform and a new name,” Obi-Wan picks up the story. “Hoth. And I went off to kill my soulmate.”

“But you didn’t,” Barriss says, and she sounds vaguely confused and vaguely accusatory.

“I almost did,” Obi-Wan admits, like it’s a sin, like it's salvation. “Everything about him was different. He was not the passionate but warm boy I had known. He was a forest fire. A volcano. And Mustafar’s fighting style was completely different from Iego’s. I only realized it was Anakin--my Anakin--when I managed to knock his mask off. I had my hand around his throat, but when I realized who I was fighting...I let go. I couldn’t kill him. Even after everything he did. Even knowing...knowing Iego was gone.”

The dining room is silent for a second, before three voices burst out angrily at once.

“Why aren’t you helping the Jedi?” Ahsoka asks the loudest. “Hoth--Ilum, Obi-Wan. We need you. Mustafar--the Imperials...they’re not going to stop. They’ve killed so many Jedi. We need you to help us.”

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan says. “I cannot.”

“You used to be a hero,” Barriss accuses. “Now what are you? A hollowed out, sad man.”

“I was never a hero,” he snaps. “I followed orders. Anyone can do that.”

“You were the best,” Cody says quietly, cutting Obi-Wan to the bone. “You led the Geonosis team for six years. I studied you in class. You were...the best.”

“I wasn’t,” Obi-Wan disagrees just as quietly. “But perhaps you all are.”

“You haven’t even told us any weakness we could use against him in battle!” Barriss shouts, standing up suddenly, which causes the chair to clatter over. “You’ve been no help at all! I’m leaving, this is a waste of time!”

“Barriss--!” Ahsoka cries after the girl, grabbing her discarded mask and taking after her.

Cody opens his mouth and then closes it. He jams the helmet back onto his head. “The soulmark. You said it’s on his hip?”

Obi-Wan smiles mirthlessly. Cody is trying to see if he can catch him in a lie, if this is actually good tactical information or not. “It’s a few inches below his shoulder blades, right over his spine.”

Cody nods once and then files out, leaving Obi-Wan alone in the room with the silent, still helmetless Rex.

“I just told him how to kill my supervillain soulmate,” Obi-Wan tells Rex, even though he’s really talking to himself. “Soulmarks, even dead ones, are extremely sensitive. If Anakin had hit me with his fire on my other thigh, I would be dead. Not just crippled. Muscle, young man, doesn’t grow back easily.”

He rubs a hand over the leg in question, staring down at the uneven way his pants lay over the old injury. It aches from the walking he’s forced it to do today, from trying to walk normally im front of these powerful strangers.

Rex taps the table to get him to look up, and then gestures to his own eyes.

“I?” Obi-Wan asks, confused.

Rex rolls his eyes and then mimes writing something.

“Ah, there should be a pen and pad in the kitchen?” he trails off as the teenager goes to retrieve the aforementioned things.

It takes a second longer than it should, and he comes out carrying just a slip of paper with his helmet forced back onto his head.

With a flick of his fingers, the paper’s lying on the table and Rex is following his teammates out the door and out of Obi-Wan’s apartment and hopefully out of his life forever.

Curious, Obi-Wan grabs the note and unfolds it to read.

We thought Musta. had yel. eyes because all the top Imps have yel. eyes. But if Ankn had blue eyes, then mybe none of the imps should have yel eyes.

No one knows what sidious power is -> what if it’s mind control?

Obi-Wan puts the note down onto the table with shaking hands. He wishes desperately he had never read it.

Because those words plant a seed of hope in his chest he isn’t sure he’ll be able to live without now.

What if Anakin--his Anakin--what if he’s in there still? What if Obi-Wan had abandoned him to ten years of brainwashing and mind control with not much of a fight at all?

But more pressingly, what if there’s hope for him? For both of them? Still, after all this time?

[goddessjynx]

Any parent please answer?

Idk if anyone will see this, but right now I need just anyone to tell me I'm not crazy.

Am I a bad friend for wanting to hang out with my ex-bestie (eb for short) while she has her kids or she's busy and can't hang, so I offer to come over, to help watch, to help clean? Anything just to be there for her, why? Oh because she was on her third child, at this time I literally went over to her house to play dnd with her husband and brother and her sometimes. So I would try and say "hi" or talk, but instead we stayed doing something else or barely said hi. Ok, fine, hormones, got it. It got to the point of she wouldn't want to hang out with me for reasons she stopped telling me decent sounding excuses. Fine, That's fine, I have other friends who I can hang with or find other things to stay inside and not get out of the house to do. I don't need to leave the house, to get away from the suffocating inside the house with a mentally and verbally abusive, controlling husband. That's. Just. Fine.

So you know, time goes on. we find out that the reason she won't hang out with me, but will hang out with the other girl who she hates (Mind you the other chick literally broke into their house, tried to start drama all the time, and be hazardous to her already two children But who am I to judge about the person you rant to me about how you hate them so much?) But the other chick was also pregnant after divorcing her wife. It's honestly such a mess. So "anyways, I get excluded now because I "Don't understand what she's going through" or "I won't have the same experience" or I'm "not a good source of help" Lol, Okay? I still can't help? Be happy for you? Cool. So things go on, and just things have gotten worse on my end. I'm over here with such a mind debilitating baby fever, that I'm having to pull my car over watching children get off the school bus because I'm in such a crying fit that I can't breathe or see straight. So who the hell would I go to about what do I do? My Bestie right? (There's a reason we are eb rn) I tell her, well try, Idk how much she actually listened. But I tell her how I just can't think about anything else right now. I did everything right, and the world keeps slapping me back.

I own a 4 bedroom house. we have two cars, we even have decently everything working out in our favor, But all of a sudden, I'm not good enough for anyone. My own husband two months after getting married said he hasn't found me attractive for the last two years. THAnks. That's a real boost. This didn't start the fights, but that's a whole other set of rants. about a year before my eb got pregnant, around or right before July 4th, I strictly remember, I was in the walmart fucking bathroom. I had felt so sick the weeks beforehand. Like, My menstrual cycle hates me. She's savage af. Not to mention she likes to disappear randomly and appear with just cramps or a whole flood. I never know. But I remember calling my husband in a panic because I don't know what to do while I had to go to the bathroom so bad it hurt, and all I have is half dollar sized clots. Just something my medical brain, and senior year of AP biology says, "Fuck!" I have him figure something out because I'm really needing someone to just hold me in the bathroom I feel so sick to my stomach. I'm dizzy and all these symptoms I tell him to tell the doctor or whoever he calls.. So he calls, they say whatever to him. I don't either remember or he never told me what they said, (this is a normal of hiding information from me, A LOT) They said (What he told me) to just wipe things up and clean up then if it persists in the next 24 hours to go into the hospital. But I will have to see an ob-gyn.

So, Okay. Nothing bad. but they are in charge of everything along those lines. But those were including two words, that I now know were the two words this man didn't want to hear despite, DESPITE all the teasing and jokes about having kids with me when I was younger with him and literally just dating. That was because I had to see a family planning doctor. I was told by HIM that it was nothing, and we will be fine. I just blamed it on my cramps that are horrible and never put thought to it because I had believed that's what he was told. So that's a trauma my brain locked away until recently as I'm going through my divorce right now. But, I was thinking about how shortly after that, I got a call from my eb about how they were all waiting on me because I'm making us late for bringing stuff to the grill out and bonfire later. Fine, mask all the pain and keep fucking going. right?

She seemed genuinely not worried, saying it was probably just a bad cycle. She gets them all the time too. Its whatever. My now bestie's sister has gone through the same thing I described multiple times, enough that she looked at me and was like, "No, You possibly miscarried." even her mom went on about, "they should've never NEVER brushed that off like they did. If they cared then they would've made sure you were ok. My husband denied me from going to the doctor to see anything about it. Even after when I knew my hormones and emotions were just soooo off. But that's in my mind now, when before maybe around the same time my eb came out saying to all of us even her own husband one time saying she's been feeling crummy because she went in and she found out she had miscarried. It was so short after my stuff that she disregarded then took and made attention for herself that upset her own husband because she never told him until she told a bunch of us at a bar. I mean I felt bad for her, but Now thinking back, my gut says it was a ploy to make her husband to feel bad for her and to try for another one. Where as I'm over here waiting patiently because I jumped through Hoops to get where I'm at now.

My husband promised me children. Lots, its a fucking dream to be a mum. I care for everyone else, and their kids, why not have some kind of mini me to show of what I did. That I did good. That I can be useful to this world too. That I'm not just a lump of no good nothing to this world. But first, he needed a better paying job than a gas station.

Did that, he worked at a metal parts production place. But we then gave the fact that we still live in the apartment I got after moving out from high school. We rented a house. It worked, and it was nice. But now he needs a car, but he cant do that until he learns how to drive. 3 years older than me and I taught him how to drive. AND I helped him buy his first car, a truck. Oh but now, we still can't start a family. We are only renting. I have enough good credit that I could get a house alone, but I needed a higher pay. Bam with his income together we got a house.

Bam, I'm hit with baby fever and what not. NOW I get told, we aren't ready for anything like that yet, so wait two years. Alright, I'll wait. I can do that. We were going to go on trips together and do many things together and all of a sudden, the walmart thing happened, and it just got worse from there. It got to a point I got a job paying BETTER than him and I was the laughing stock to him and his buddies. THANKS. But I'm fine, everything is fine. The walmart thing was about two years after, so I mean, it was actually in the time frame and whatnot. Things just kept going on getting worse at home, I just kept listening. For reasons, I had to quit my high paying job, and then everything got absolutely horrible at home. Had to put everything I had control over money wise into his account for he worried it would take too long to find an new job and make money to suffice for bills. It was argument after argument, but I went to my eb explaining things, asking what the hell do I do? Her advice? To just do what he wants. The thing I had to quit about? She basically never cared about it. Everything just went on being a mess. I went on just letting people walk over me because that was the advice I was given.

I voiced my feelings that I have been following lies and how I feel hurt that I'm told dreams and having them be taken away. We never went on trips much. Instead we would buy a crap ton of ammo or new guns that I'm not allowed to use, yet I'm helping fund so you can get them, but when it was my own that I BOUGHT, all of a sudden, my things went missing and he would be out using and letting his buddies use my new guns and using up the ammo I had purchased on my own. I mean, fine, but let me at LEAST take yours out if you're going to use mine without asking. It got to be so annoying that we would be asked when we would get married or when we would have kids. He would be hugging me and smiling all cocky saying "Oh well we haven't stopped trying." every time. He would start that tell people this and I finally had enough. I stopped him and told him to put his money where his mouth was. He always said shit but never actually did it or acted on what he said. He would just lie to everyone. Tell people lies because it sounded nice. Best part? I had bought a ring for him. I proposed to him because he would joke about things like that. So I basically said, "bet" and did it. I have never received a damn ring! He wouldn't even want to look at them with me. Because they were expensive. Not all of them are. I don't care what price it is, but something to say, "Hey, I love you and Don't want the odd peeps at the bar to keep hitting on you so take this with you, its dangerous out there." (Shut up. I'm a nerd) But like.... I just would make notions about, I wanted a ring. He would beg me to pool together money and buy new guns, I mean I"m not against, but I would bring up that I will want a ring. Or even something else would be you know, amazing right now because I'm in a lost place wanting kids still and my eb just announced they were having their third. (which her own family was so upset about it that they ranted to me and my mom, her own brother said that its just another kid that they will end up taking care of instead of her so she can go to the bars again. Yep) So next we talked about getting a gun safe because, before we can have kids, we need to be SAFE. Ight, we bought it. Nice matte black 33 capacity, fire and water proof, best part the front had a reallly pretty engraved waving American flag imprinted on it. It was just so smooth. (Guess who has that right now btw) So oddly enough in the middle of me not being enough for my eb, My cycle kind of returned to being semi regular, and all of a sudden disappeared. Well that whole month beforehand we went from never wanting to touch me unless it was my birthday to every night he was angry after work and took it out on me instead. I mean, whatever. But when it came to me not feeling well, I told him.

Instantly it wasn't mine. I was fooling with other guys. Like instant psycho. His childhood friend came and moved up with us, she saw this for a good few months and had to move out because he was trying to control her as if she were a child. She told me that it was not right for him to be that way and that she will never talk to him for how he treated her. (which was exactly how he was always with me too) I'm not sure if he was trying to get my jealous because his bff was a girl? Idk we worked out like literally sisters. Sooo much in common and she told me, She believes he's never wanted kids. And she watched how I broke down after he told me he wanted nothing to do with me until I took a test. He DEMANDED that I took a test right away. If it was positive, it wasn't his until proven so. And if it was negative he would be fine. this was ridiculous. He wasn't at all happy or excited. Purely upset. I felt so shitty that after the test was negative I told him and he threatened about it happening again he was leaving back to Kansas. He threatened this every damn fight, it got to the point that I gave up, I said leave then. And instantly he shut up. I got him out of gangs, crime, jail, living on the street or with his mum, and being a maaajor drug addict. Yet I'M THE BAD PERSON.

Back to recently when my eb is getting closer to having her kid, I just go through finding out I'm not and my husband is freaking out at me, nonstop yelling at me that I'm not good enough and all this shit. Yes, lil ol me trying to keep the peace in the house is a cunt and a whore. Wow. Name calling, but hitting where it hurts? I told him before, how my mother in an argument said I would be a horrible mother. And that shit sticks. IT STICKS. So what does the smart ass pull out? He repeats it. He says he's glad I'm not pregnant because I'd be a horrible mother in the end.

That. That just kills a person. That kills dreams and the feeling of wanting to keep living. Who the FUCK says that to their partner? Am I wrong for thinking that's not right? Well my eb thought I was. I told her my feelings. How I don't want to be jealous of her, but I am. That she's more beautiful, she's always had guys hitting on her in school inviting her to do things and hang out, I was the nerd in whatever class that got invited only if it was mandatory. She will be having three kids and a loving husband that can never take his hands or eyes from her, where as I have to act like a clown to get my husband to look up from his damn phone. To say something nice. To

be acknowledged while in the house. I've left and came back the next morning because I hung out at my now besties house. He didn't say a word until I came home the next morning and he looked at me like "when the fuck did you leave" No care, no love. I was stuck being a burden. Anything I ever did around the house was in vain. Everything I helped with I got shoved away because I didn't do it right. EVERYTHING I did was not good enough. I would tell him this that is how I felt and he would deny it. One day, I caught him yelling at me saying that what I did wasn't ever good enough. Calle him out right away. Bitch... He tried to change the wording to go around what he said. I HEARD IT. it was so bad I had to have my bestie on the phone to listen to how he talked to me behind closed doors. Away from public view. HER MOM HEARD IT. Thought she was watching some kind of dramatic show, until she realized it was me on the phone. She's listened to so many calls its unheard of. There was a day, I had enough of it. (Ok A lot actually) but I grabbed my laptop and my charger and left the house. I sat in the park drawing on my laptop. Texted every person I could think of that I cared so deeply for that they would care for me back. I was in a dark ass place asking for Advice. My eb shrugged off what my husband was doing and scolded me for leaving. For sitting in a park drawing out my feelings instead of being with him because he's being dramatic to her husband upset that I started an argument. I didn't understand what I started when it was over me telling him not to throw the controller when he loses a COD game because that's how it breaks. Why he threw it? Because I distracted him by playing with my cat while he was playing the damn game and made him lose! yep. Exactly that. So I was yelled at to quit. So I did. I went back to my drawing and then with my headphones on I was humming to my music. It distracted him and he lost. So I flipped out because I can't do anything in my own house without being scolded for it. So I stormed off to the bedroom to draw some more. I'm upstairs and away from him. Didn't want to eat now I'm stressed and upset. So I didn't cook anything and now he's hungry and upset at me for not making food yet. YES. That's how it started and I again was the bad person in the story for safely removing myself from an environment where all my mind was telling me to do was dark things that hurt to say. To give up on everything I have worked for and all my dreams.

That was the last time I spoke to her for a while because everything started to be only about baby and about doing this for baby. Doing that for baby. But then she would never answer me back. I was done trying to fit time to hang out. To do something, I made new friends who didn't have kids and hung out more with them. It got horrible. the sound of a child crying made my stomach hurt. I had non stop dreams of the same thing happening. It was just awful. I looked it up and it was just meaning I had something and lost it. Whatever is missing in the dream what what I had lost.

In this dream I was dressed in all black, lace and long dress covering every inch of skin on my body. I had a hat with a veil and I was rocking a bundle in my arms in an old decrepit room with peeling paint and broken toys. It was a nursery. An old ruined nursery. I was rocking just a black blanket swaddled with a hole that emptied to the void. It gives me chills, I get this dream so much that me explaining just makes my skin crawl and my body ache. It hurts to think of but I just cannot understand it. Makes sense now that I looked into it.

But me going through all of this, I can't talk to my husband about my feelings because I'm too needy and being selfish for not taking his feelings into an account. That he's not ready that we are not ready and that I'm not ready because I'm going to be a horrible mom. Cool.

I have tried so much. I couldn't be around kids. It made me so sick and I jus would have to find somewhere to hide and cry for hours. I would cry myself to sleep. Never getting comfort by him because I'm throwing a pity party. I was so hurt. Still am. I'm broken hearted. Thinking that if I had a kid, at least I would have something that needed me and would love the care I gave and would love me back. I wanted to feel loved for how much I put out in the world. I wanted to have something to ground me to this world before I did something stupid. I was in such a dark place that I drove an hour to go see my bestie because I was scared that I was going to do it. That I was going to be the big disappointment he told me I would always be. Three months later, baby is here and I go back to playing dnd with my friends and its at their house. My husband is rubbing it in my face. He's holding baby and talking to baby and doing all these things making my mind break. He asks if I want to hold her. If i if iififififi NO.

I can't I cannot. I'm trying to be respectful. I missed out on other games because I had to hype myself up. I procrastinated because I didn't know how I would be or if I could handle it. I got to the point that my eb's husband told me that he doesn't want me playing anymore because I sent a text trying to apologize to my now eb that I feel so bad but I can't see her right now since seeing her kids just sends me into a panic attack and I can't stop thinking horrible things. So she takes that as I have a problem with HER kids and not just the KIDS situation. Doesn't hear me out. blames me for everything and has me banned from coming over. in which her husband says he doesn't want me over anymore. Which my rebuttal is because she's telling him only. But he said it was his choice. I don't know don't care. It just hurt that THATS the reason I got kicked out. Not because I was good, but that I couldn't handle their kids. And I would not pay attention by drawing the whole time. I was distracting myself because I'm trying to drown out the noises of cooing making my gut rot and my mouth dry. So by all means I'm selfish for wanting a dream that I was being promised for the last 6 years of physically being with my soon to be ex. I've know for actually 12 years. And that I drove 15 hours to bring you to me since you couldn't drive.

So I need to know from real parents, was I out of line for telling my eb that I had feelings and that them not being heard or just cast to the side hurt? Am I crazy for feeling that I've been robbed? For being upset when my husband comes home drunk and abuses me? For being hurt when I'm called all sorts of names and told I'm worthless by the man I should trust the most? Please. I need to know.

I know I'm ranting, but I need to get it out. I need to find some sort of something to figure out why I'm feeling this way, or why I don't know what to do with myself anymore. I'm fighting for the divorce since i haven't been to my owned house in the last 5 months since he changed the locks on me. I moved an hour away from my home and my family and still to this day, I hurt to hear or watch children around me. I'm happy, but inside something aches and just feels empty. Not to mention that I got told by people that know me that he's been caught buying condoms. We are still technically married, and he can't be doing those things right now. Am I jealous? Upset? Hurt? All of the above? It just sucks and I'm drowning in debt a bit trying to work my ass off to get where I want in life again since all of everything has been ripped from me. I'm trying. Please let me know if I'm crazy or out of line? I want to be heard. I'm going to start to save up. I have a plan for my 27th birthday. If it doesn't work in time for my 28th birthday, I'm not sure what else I can do but join the 27 club.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Out Of Time ~ 135

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,665ish

Summary: Y/N wants a small wedding. Tony and her find out the gender of their baby. Steve and Y/N go for lunch. (Read note and the end of the chapter.)

“I want our wedding to be small,” Y/N stated randomly a few days after the proposal. She was currently sitting in Tony’s new workshop, watching him set things up. 

“Okay, honey,” Tony responded, not really hearing everything. 

“Like, really small.”

“Whatever you want, you know that.”

“Like only me, you, and whoever’s marrying us.”

Tony looked at Y/N. “What if I already told both Rhodey and Happy they could be my best men? And invited Pepper?”

“Really, Tony? I just… I think it would be easier, for me, if it was just us.”

Tony dropped what he was doing and turned so that he was giving Y/N his full attention. “May I ask why?”

“I just… this wedding… I… it’s stupid. Never mind.”

“No, no, no, no, no.” Tony rolled his chair so that the was right in front of Y/N, and took hold o her heads. “You tell me and I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”

Y/N inhaled and exhaled shakily as Tony rubbed his thumbs over her hands. “I… I have no one to walk me down the aisle.”

“Oh, honey.” He reached up with one hand and cupped her cheek. She leaned into it. “I didn’t think about that.”

“I know that Steve’s still alive, but… I’m not ready for that yet. He didn’t trust me… and he—“ Y/N’s voice broke as she got emotional, “—he hasn’t for a long time. He’s also never liked the idea of me and you. So why would Steve even be willing to walk me down the aisle? And if he won’t, who will?”

Tony pulled Y/N onto her lap with a sigh. “If it makes you feel better, none of my family would be there either.”

Y/N buried her head in her hands. “Oh my gosh, I’m being so selfish. At least I have a family member still alive.”

“You are not being selfish, you’re being realistic.” He pressed a kiss to her head before gently guiding her hands away form her face. “How about… well, you know I really don’t like your brother right now either, but why don’t you try and ask him to walk you down the aisle? I think it would be good for the two of you, healing in a way. Maybe even tell him about the baby.”

“I’m not telling anyone until the second trimester.”

“Then wait until then. Meet him somewhere for lunch—“

“If there’s still a place open.”

“—and tell him.”

“I’m just… scared.”

“I know, honey. But I’m worried this will do you and the baby more harm than good.”

“Okay… in a few weeks, I’ll reach out.”

“That’s my girl.” He kissed her softly.

“I don’t want to be fat in our wedding pictures,” Y/N blurted out, pulling away from the kiss. 

Tony chuckled. “Then we’ll get married after the baby is born. We’ll wait until the baby is old enough and we can get Happy and Pepper to take care of it.”

“Why are you so good to me?”

“Maybe cause you’re so good to me.”

~~~

Week 10 started with the “pregnancy glow” and Tony constantly commenting on how big Y/N’s breasts were getting. 

Week 11, her growing baby bump was causing aches and cramping. At one point, Tony found Y/N curled up on the floor, crying. He felt terrible that she was going through this. Tony carefully lifted her up, tucking her into bed, and spent the day cuddling her. 

Week 12, the nausea was basically gone, making the couple happy. 

Week 13 was full of dizziness. Y/N was struggling to stand up or stay standing by herself. This caused Tony to order her to bed rest, over-dramatically.

Week 14 came and it was the start of the second trimester. The doctor came over to check on both mother and baby, as well as reveal the gender. Y/N was hesitant to know the gender, wanting it to be a surprise. But Tony was an impatient child who was going to end up getting his way, legally or otherwise.

“Okay,” the doctor hummed, beginning the ultrasound. “We have ten toes, a strong heart beat, ten fingers.” Tony held onto Y/N’s hand tighter as he watched the screen intently. “Are you sure you’re ready to know the gender.”

“Yes!” / “No.”

“Come on, honey,” Tony begged. “I just want to know so we can start decorating and picking out names. Please?”

Unfortunately, Tony’s big brown eyes were hard to say no to. Y/N was going to be totally screwed if their child ended up with his eyes, but at least Tony would then get a taste of his own medicine.

“Fine,” she conceded.

“Yay!” Tony celebrated, giving her a kiss. “Now, doc, what is it?”

“Congratulations, it’s a girl,” the doctor told them with a smile.

“Yes!” Tony cheered. “I knew it!”

“You knew it?” Y/N questioned.

“I told you, I had a dream about it. So real. And we named her Morgan.”

“So I’m guessing any other names are off the table because you had a dream about it?”

“Like I said, it was so real.”

“I’ll have to think about it. While I do, can you go grab me a water, I’m dying of thirst.”

“Of course.” Tony kissed her templed before rushing off.

“Doc,” Y/N turned her attention to the doctor, “is it… this is so awkward but, is it okay to have sex? Even while being pregnant?”

“It’s completely safe,” the doctor chuckled slightly. “I’m guessing your sex drive as gotten a boost this week?”

“You have no idea. Literally anything Tony does makes me want horny. I was just scared—“

“Every new parent is. But you’re fine. The baby is well protected and higher up than you think.”

“So it won’t, like mess anything up?”

“Nope, you’re completely fine. I say enjoy it while it lasts, because it won’t last very long.”

“Thank you so much.”

~~~

That night, Tony was getting ready for bed while Y/N laid down, watching him. 

“Tony?” She called.

“Yes, dear?” He responded, looking her way.

“The doctor said it was okay to have sex.”

Tony choked a little. “Wh-what? You asked them that?”

“Well, lately, my sex drive has started to kick up and everything you do makes me horny.”

“Everything I do, huh?” He wiggled his brows. 

“So, please, help me?”

He came over and placed a seductive kiss on her lips. “I will always help you,” he whispered.

~~~

Week 15 came with extra clumsiness and a dreaded phone call. Tony was out getting groceries as Y/N at there, staring at her phone. She needed to call Steve and tell him everything. Things either needed to start getting better or they needed to fall apart once and for all. After taking a deep breath, Y/N finally pressed call and held the ringing phone to her ear. She felt like it had rung for hours before she finally heard Steve’s voice.

“Y/N?” He wondered, clearly confused. “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

“I’m fine, Steve. I was just calling to see if you would like to meet up for lunch soon?” Y/N said, trying to remain calm. “We need to talk.”

She heard him sigh. “Yeah, I suppose we do. I’m free tomorrow. I know a place in the city that’s open. I’ll text you the address. Say we meet up around 1?”

“That sounds great. I’ll see you then.”

“Right. Okay. See you then.”

Y/N hung up and leaned back agains the couch, closing her eyes. She could do this, she had to do this.

~~~

Steve was nervous. So nervous, that he had arrived at the restaurant about an hour and a half before he was to meet Y/N. They had always had their differences, but he knew that the past couple of years had really driven a rift between the two. With him being the main reason for that. He was stuck in his own head when Y/N finally sat across from him.

“Steve,” she greeted, not giving anything away.

“Y/N,” he responded, with a small smile. “How have you been?”

“I’ve be fine. You?”

“Same.”

Before the conversation could actually go anywhere, the server came up and they ordered. Steve was a bit surprised at how much Y/N had ordered. 

“You hungry?” He tried to joke after the server left.

“Well it’s really hard not to be when you’re eating for two,” Y/N responded.

“W-wh-what? Eating for… t-two?”

“I’m pregnant, Steve.”

“Wha—how? I-I-I mean, who’s is it?”

“Really, Steve? Guess.”

“Well from what I was told you were seeing both Bucky and Stark. So I really—“

“It’s Tony’s. I… while I was dating both of them, I had rules. Like no sex.”

“And so Bucky dies and you break that rule?”

“Really, Steve? You know what?” She shook her head, pushing herself to stand up. “I don’t know why I let Tony talk me into doing this. I don’t need you there at the wedding. I can—“

“Hold up, Y/N, sit down. I’m sorry. I was just… I haven’t been good with my emotions for a very long time. Can you just sit back down, so we can talk about this?”

“Fine,” Y/N huffed.

“Before I get into anything more, I just want to make sure that I heard you correct. Did you say something about a wedding?”

“Tony and I are getting married.”

“That’s… that’s… good. You both deserve some happiness.”

“Thanks. We’re going to get married after the baby arrives.”

“Smart.”

“And I was… I was hoping that you might walk me down the aisle. And before you say anything, I realize that you, and Tony and I don’t have the best relationship, but I have no family. Only you.”

“I… I’d be honored too. But are you sure Tony wants me there? That you want me there?”

“You’re my twin and my only living relative, of course I want you there. But only if you want to be there. And, Tony just wants me to be happy. That’s all he’s ever wanted.”

“I’d love to walk you down the aisle. On one condition.”

“What is it?”

“You tell me the baby’s gender.”

“It’s a girl.” Y/N smiled, rubbing her belly. “Her name is Morgan.”

“Morgan. I like it. Are you planning to give her a middle name?”

“Currently that’s up for debate. I like Sarah or Maria, but Tony’s insisting on Howard.”

“Howard?”

“Yeah, I know. He’ll probably end up getting his way. Just can’t let him know that yet.”

Y/N and Steve sat at the table, talking and laughing, for a few hours. It was nice, good, different. Especially after all that had happened. Steve walked Y/N to her car.

“Can we do this more often?” Steve asked, a little nervous. “I’ve missed this, missed us.”

“I’d like that,” Y/N responded. She hugged Steve. “I love you, Steve.”

“Love you too.”

~~~

“Hey,” Tony greeted as Y/N entered his workshop. “How was lunch?”

“It was good,” she responded, leaning in for a kiss. “Of course, not everything is fixed and we still have a long way to go before we ever get back to where we once were.”

“You’re welcome,” Tony smirked, giving her another kiss. “Do you want to see what I’ve done for Morgan’s room today?”

“I think you’re nesting more than I am.”

“Probably right. I just want everything to be perfect and ready for our little girl.”

“And, knowing you, nothing with be. There’s always going to be something that needs fixing or updating.”

“How lucky am I to have a woman that knows me so well?”

“Extremely.”

~~~

Week 16, Y/N began experiencing her skin darkening around her nipples, inner thigh, armpits, and navel. She grew concerned but luckily Tony had already read all about it and told her that there was nothing to worry about. This week she also began to wedding plan. Nothing big, just looking at dresses and flowers and cakes. Steve and her had also began texting back and forth, as had her and Nat.

Week 17 was full of backaches and pregnancy brain. Tony couldn’t help but laugh at the pregnancy brain, though was immediately there to help soothe the backaches.

It was now the beginning was week 18, and Y/N felt like her boobs were huge. Tony enjoyed it, which led to them having sex a few times. They had just finished showering. Tony was getting dressed after helping Y/N do so, as Y/N laid in bed. Her hand was on her stomach when she suddenly she felt this uncomfortable pressure. She groaned.

“You okay, honey?” Tony asked, slightly concerned.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Y/N responded. “I’m sure it’s—ugh.”

Tony was quickly by her side. “What is it?”

“There’s these pressure.” She rubbed her stomach. “It’s coming and going and—ah!”

“Maybe I should call the doctor.”

“No, no, I think I’ll—ah!”

“Yep, calling the doctor. Unless…”

“Unless what, Tony?”

“Hang on.” 

Tony pushed Y/N’s shirt up, revealing her growing bump, and rested his hands on it. The pressure happened again. Y/N winced.

“There is it again,” she said through clenched teeth. Tony couldn’t help but break out into giddy laughter. “What are you laughing at?”

“She’s kicking,” Tony responded with a large grin. “Morgan’s kicking.”

“What?” There is was again.

“Hey there, Morguna, I can feel you,” Tony leaned in and spoke to the baby. “Be kinder on your momma, will ya?”

“She’s kicking,” Y/N repeated softly. “She’s kicking.”

“Yeah she is. And I can already tell she’s a fighter, just like her parents.”

~~~

Week 19 was full of heartburn and constipation. Steve and Y/N also met up for lunch, slowly making amends.

Week 20, Morgan was restless. Kicking up a storm. Y/N was getting little sleep. It wasn’t helping that she also had leg cramps and swelling int he hands and feet.  The only time Morgan would calm down was when Tony was talking to her. But Y/N couldn’t wake Tony all the time, that just wasn’t fair. So Tony, ever the clever Tony, recorded himself telling stories and singing songs to play so that they could get sleep. Still wasn’t helping Y/N all that much, but it was at least calming Morgan down.

Week 21 was almost just as restless as the previous and added shortness of breath. Tony was extremely worried about that. Luckily the doctor was already planning on coming by. The doctor said that it was normal and that Y/N just needed to take it real easy. The doctor also told them that Morgan was looking very healthy, which put the parents at ease.

“She’s going to look just like you,” Y/N told Tony one night as he was rubbing her belly and talking to Morgan. “I know it.”

“You don’t want her looking like me,” Tony chuckled with a shake of his head. “Besides, she’s going to be beautiful, just like her mother.” Tony got quiet and solemn looking. “Do you think I’ll be like my father?”

Y/N knew this question was going to come up eventually. She was just hoping it would be later. “I knew knew Howard as a father. I just knew him as a good man. And I’ve always felt bad about how he treated you, that you didn’t know the man I did. But, Tony,” she cupped his face and made eye contact with him, “you are not your father. And you have learned from him. You will be the greatest father for our child.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. I would have never let this continue on if I didn’t.”

“I’m so lucky to have you by my side.”

“I know."

next chapter >

I leave for Disney World in a week. It is the last big family vacation that I will be on for a while.Because of that, I will not be on tumblr March 19th through March 24th. I will actually be deleting the app so that it’s not a distraction.

Most likely, nothing will be posted during that time. If something is, it will have been queued up. Things that are posted while I’m out of town will not have tag lists attached. I will put this note in all the fic posts until then. 

So do not come at me for spending time with my family instead of including the tag list. (I say that knowing that people won’t care and still come at me.... be respectful and get over yourself.)

And in case you didn’t read the note at the end of the last chapter, I will be doing two endings (Tony’s Ending and Bucky’s Ending).

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

[blufox234isadumbname]

dream (XD, maybe?) visits fundy in his dreams. it's the only thing making them bearable, and keeping him sane

:)

Nobody [inspired by a mitski song]

Many make mistakes, Fundy was one of them. He just wanted to make sure Yoghurt was safe that night, what with more mobs emerging from the south. He just wanted to tuck his kid and make sure he slept better than him. With kiddish purrs becoming white noise, he should've stopped himself when he felt his lids flutter, when his bed dipped and he saw the house go black.

The fox-hybrid opened his eyes, already letting the horror sink in before opening the damn door. It was all over again, he thought he was getting better. No. He was a fool, still a foolish fox. Yoghurt was no longer by his side, and he already started to feel sweltering heat entering the home. Fundy's heart already ached, already sore. His breaths were heavy, weighted over him as he laid in the dreaded empty bed. Tears were beginning to form but he blinked and rubbed them harshly away. Just close your eyes, he thought. But he knew better, wishes could never be reality. He just wanted it to be over, so he had to do it himself. Fundy always had to do everything himself anyways, this was no different.

He got up and readjusted his black breton cap. Steady and stalwart, steps crept towards and stopped in front of the door. Twisting the knob, a final breath was heaved before the same scenery greeted the displeasured fox. He became familiar with the barren land, covered by only hot dry sand and tall cacti. The winds seemed to be strong that dream, dust clouds were choking the poor dreamer. He closed the door behind him, noticing his red tail hung low. First thing was first, he left the area of his house to find anything out of place. It was instinct to try and spot something that stuck out like a sore thumb, besides his little spruce wood cottage.

Fundy sank his naked feet into the sand, burning his padded paws. He trudged along in a random direction, which was wherever the barest clouds were drifting opposite from. That's all he did for a couple of minutes, maybe more than half an hour to him. Prime, he hated how the sun was bright, how the sunshine was a glaring spot above him. He hated to stare at the dull sky for any second longer. He hated winds dusting the sand into his eyes. All of it was n eyesore, metaphorically and litterally.

He just continued onward, awaiting any subtle and not-so-subtle ghostly remnants of his history coming back to haunt. To be reminded of why his life sucked, that was surely fun, right? He wanted a break, a detour from the disaster that was him. For not the first time, he wanted to be elsewhere. Not just in the dream but in reality. Yes, Las Nevadas was the haven he wanted it to be. But that came with the cost of having his dreadfully undead father closer to him. As if he wanted a chance to be mocked and haunted. Even more so, Tubbo and Ranboo causing a commotion with Quackity already had set him at unease. Threats towards a nation he called a home, a lovely return to the cycle. Like dirty water from the sea to acid rain in the clouds, it's become the same horrid cycle.

Speaking of clouds, the fox-hybrid looked up. The smallest gathering of clouds became a crowd of them all across a brighter baby blue canvas. The yucky yellow sand turned a grassier green. If he squinted, he could maybe see the blooms of other than cactus flowers. Finally, a reason for the feet under him to pick up their pace. Fundy kept running towards the green, faster and faster as he could taste them with his fingers. As soon as he was near enough, he dived right into the fresh field. A little mistake, per usual, as he began rolling down a knoll all of a sudden. Through the short wild grass into a taller field of lavender and peonies, the fox finally took a deep breath. A clean and relaxed breath-

"Hello, Fundy."

- before it hitched.

Fundy lifted his head up above the flowers to spot a cleared spot. In the patch of cornflowers and poppies, a naked area of just grass lay, with a figure. He knew it well, with the dirty blonde hair - though he never remembered it being at scruffy and shoulder length - and deadly smile-painted mask adorned. In a lime, white and black letterman jacket over a starkingly orange jumpsuit. He knew that man well, even by the soft humming. The blank eyes of the mask and the man behind to stared at the fox-hybrid. If it weren't a nightmare yet, Fundy figured it just started.

"How are you here?" The hoodied man asked

"Don't...don't even talk to me..." The overcoated fox snarled with teeth bared and tail puffed.

Dream huffed, toying with something in his hands.

"I just asked. The dreamscape is not normally so free reign. For you, you're the least I expected to be able to cross barriers of mind."

"What the fuck are you talking about. Why are you here? What, to haunt me? To mock me? To tell me I'm useless?"

"...To make flower crowns"

He held up said piece of rope strung with flower blooms. His was a cornflower and daisy crown.

"That...that's it?"

"Can you control your dreams?"

"That...it's none of your business, Dream."

"I'm assuming no. But you are willingly seeing me. So in that case, I suppose I can tell you. You know I was imprisoned, in that big ol' prison? Anyway, a being gave me a wish, or rather a gift. I could control my own dreams, I could lucid dream whenever I wanted to. So I could stay in prison while still feeling the grassy field. So I'm here."

"You don't...get nightmares? NOS Cary reminders of your past? Nothing scary?" *And while I do?*, Fundy doesn't add on. Dream pauses for a break. before he answers

"How could I? I control every aspect of my dream. Though you are certainly not part of it. I appreciate the company, kinda? But I'd rather not keep it. It's be nice if I just asked that dream being to remove you-"

"NO!"

"Excuse me?"

"P-Please...I-I don't wanna go back..."

He hated how his voice became frail at the drop of a hat, how his ears flattens and how shaky his hands became. Already begging to a tyrant, the same one who's destroyed everything in his life. What Fundy had begged was true, however, he didn't not want to go back to nightmares. This was the only time the dreams felt good. Albeit muddled by a lime menace, it was better than the frightening things ahead did him. The fox heard the man sigh.

"Sure, sure you can stay."

"Thank you..."

Fundy sat down in front of Dream, criss-cross legged. And the two were silent. The dreamer kept weaving in the flowers in the rope while the intruder simply watched. His clawed hands picked at the grass blades. Admittedly he enjoyed the scenery, if it weren't for the horror of a man in front of him. He noticed the excess rope tossed aside and something in Fundy urged him to use it too. He could tell eyes were on him again even from behind the unmoving mask.

"Yes, you can make flower crowns too. You know how to make one?"

"Y-yeah. Niki taught me how to make one with rope. I made hers with alliums. She gave me one made out to tulips" Fundy chuckled at the memory fondly.

Dream paid no mind just gave Fundy the extra rope and returned to his own project. After that, the quietness continued for much longer. But Fundy was never a fan of long silences.

"...Why a field? Out of flowers? I didn't know you were into this kind of stuff."

Dream paused for a minute, seemingly deliberating. He room a breath and spoke;

"It's just me wanting to relive old memories. Before settling in the SMP, me and George went to a flower field. We just spent half the say there doing jack all."

"It's always George is it?"

"... he's my friend. I'd do anything for him."

"Even terrorising a nation? Even threatening a kid? Even dethroning him?"

"..."

The silence spoke volumes. Fundy knew he overstepped, but it was hard for him to be sympathetic over it. He swore the surroundings looked dimmer for a second.

"I miss him. I'm no longer allowed visitors and even then, he never came by to visit."

"Who did?"

"Sapnap. Bad. Tommy, surely you know. Then Technoblade."

"Wait Techno visited you?"

"Less visit and more just made a new space in my jail cell. It's like a vacation to him. I'm not mad but...I like here better anyway."

"What's it like? In the jail cell."

"Tight. Closed. Hot. And I mean scorching. It's surrounded by lava. Barely much room to move around, not much there. I do have books to write in but so far I have started writing none."

"Someone hasn't been productive, I see?"

"I liked to write stuff. Just random things. But in a cramped space...I can't. I see why people are claustrophobic. It's feel like hell in there...for more than just the lava."

Fundy started to feel a twinge of a heat wave on his back as he stuck a flower into the rope. It died down shortly after.

"Since you're asking me questions. It should be fair I ask you."

"That's...yeah, that's fair."

"What were you doing, before you slept?"

"In bed. Just...alone in my cottage. Far away with no one else." Fundy lied, no matter the somewhat friendly tone, he wasn't ever going to risk Yoghurt.

"I thought you had Eret? Or Niki? I thought maybe you guys stay in at Least a neighbourhood."

"I...I haven't spoken to either in so long. I think they forgot about me. That's...fair"

"Hmm..."

Before I slept I was just building m stuff in Las Nevadas. It's...it's a thing Quackity built. I can't say more than that-"

A roar of something, not too loud but enough to be noticeable, came through. It spooked Fundy well enough.

"Dream what-"

"Let's...not talk about that."

"Well, what else is there to talk about me? I have nothing else. That...that palace is all I got going for me honestly."

"I thought you had more."

"No. After L'manburg, all of it gone, I don't have much else. By who, I wonder?I didn't care, that was fine by me until I did something different. I'm making sure I have a place, at least."

"Like a house?"

Fundy twisted the stalk gently, silently.

"Like a place of belonging. Where I can be remembered and people know where I am."

"I get that..."

"Of course you do, you tyrant. Your name is sure to be famous."

"Not the being remembered part. The belonging part."

The clouds seemed heavier at that moment.

"Find it hard to believe coming from the same guy that he cares for no one but a kid's discs."

"I know what I said, Fundy. But I don't care about the discs. I care about having control. Having everything in my hands. To take strings of the marionette and play them by my fingers. That's what I aim for, not just useless material discs."

"What does this have to do with belonging?"

The roar came back, a roar of thunder.

"The puppet master is not a puppet. He cannot be a puppet. When the puppets go free, he is left for dead..."

Dream's scarred hands clutch the half done green tulip crown. Down a drop goes from the petal. Then another, then another. Fundy looks up, to see the trickles. Down the drops of precipitation go to his face. Fundy's chest felt heavy, clebtched by something in a grip. He saw Dream looking up as well. From the angle he could partially see the bottom features under the mask. A pursed mouth with scars on his lips. Dottings of freckles across his cheeks. Streaks of not raindrops reaching down his chin. He heard the hiccups, the struggle to compose oneself. He knew that too well. Fundy found the part to care about as he stroked Dream's forearm carefully.

"I-I'm sorry, It's...I-I'm never like this. I'll just change-" the masked man's voice was breakable, cusp of falling apart.

"No. I like the rain."

Dream looked back to Fundy. It was true, the fox-hybrid liked rain. He used to play in the puddles as it drizzled even into adulthood, before more important things occupied his time. Like getting weapons for war or spying on a president. Fundy had on a solemn smile, a weak one in the likeable weather. His hair and fur became bristled whislt his tail wrapped unconsciously around him.

"I feel alone too. Everyone has left me

The people that I care about always hate me or leave. They leave me frightened in a place where everything so to survive. I'm barely staying alive as is. I don't have anyone."

"I don't have anyone either. I'm heartless, I pushed them away. Techno is with me, yeah. But what happens then? I'm too scared to find out. All I want is to just be free..."

Fundy laughed a bit. He tossed aside the half-effort flower crown and stood up. He opened his arms wide, further than his shoulders. He kept laughing, giggling, wheezing over. He raked a hand through ginger and snow white locks of his, knocking back his black breton cap.

"What's so funny?"

"Well, one, it's already crazy you're telling me all of this. This all feels like stuff you'd suppressed hard. Even in your dreams. And secondly...god, I wish we talked more sooner."

"What?"

"You and me, both alone in this world. We're unlovable. Reckless bastards we are. I'm not the worst like you but by Prime, I'm just as lonely as you. I can't excuse reving Wilbur and the 16th...but maybe we could've been friends."

He knew dream was smiling, not from the mask but from the small line of daylight peeking through the clouds.

"Fundy, I could never be friends with you. I'd push you away too."

"Then don't push me away now. I'm desperate, man."

"...I wouldn't."

Fundy smiled a glint of the sun right back at Dream. For once in a dream, he was at ease. The pouring rain slowed s little down to a drizzle, enough fro him to avoid smelling of dog water. The clouds journeyed away from the meadow, and let the sun's smile through. He loved the rays of sunshine gracing his face above him. He loved he could stare at the cloud-scattered sky for almost hours. He loved the winnow through the grass that made them dance. He loved it there.

"Sorry about the rain. In my dreams, I rarely can talk to anyone. And techno is not exactly the most relatable with what I have. Outside, I keep it in. But where I am, where we are, is inside me already."

"Fun to know this is the inner machinations of the terror Dream."

"Hehehah"

"...I probably won't remember this happend. When I wake I won't have a clear thought of events. Just so you'd know."

"It's fine. I knew you wouldn't anyway. That's why I let most of it out. That and because, I feel like I can trust you. I can't leave my cell but maybe someday I'll find you again. And maybe-"

A click from behind Dream's head could be heard. He moved his hand latched onto the mask and pulled it down. There he was, gentle scarred smile with even gentler eyes, covered by dirty blonde turning silver white to the tips. Irises coloured almost like emerald and aqua ender eyes looked back to the fox. Finally, his black tipped ears lifted and twitched, and his tail was wagging slightly.

"-we could be alone together again?"

Fundy's heart ached, sore already.

"I'd like to. For now, let's just depend on dreams."

"I can work with that."

Dream tossed his mask aside, uncaring and apathetic to the piece of porcelain disguise. He gently pushed Fundy by the tip of his finger, to which the former feign to be toppled. He fell in the middle of the tall peonies and lavenders and tulips. Dream joined a second after, right next to Fundy. Bliss, this is what he Fundy would call it. He felt less tensed, less mangled on fear. He had spent sleeping hours just shaken, because his fears conquered him alone. Taunting him because he was alone. Preyed on every part of him alone. But now he had a chance, to dwell int eh shrot grass, be crowned royalty in a field of flowers and feel less on his own. Fundy closed his eyes, as the smell of morning dew hit him.

And he woke up, lied curled up next to Yoghurt. And with a flower in his palm. A rose. He already wants to sleep, no matter the chance of being in the desert again. He wants to see the sunshine in the field of flowers more than anything.

[13thbaronzemo]

Baron Helmut Zemo/F!Reader

Rating E (Explicit)

Every day, at dinner time, you stumble over your feet on your way to serve the prisoners their meals. Well, there's only one prisoner you are in a hurry to serve: Baron Helmut Zemo.

He'd been brought to the Raft by the Dora Milaje of Wakanda themselves a fortnight ago and, ever since he greeted you with grateful eyes behind the bulletproof glass during his first dinner as a prisoner, you've been looking forward to seeing him again.

You weren't sure what to make of the man at first, the history and myths of him having reached your ears before he did. He has taken down the Earth's protectors through perseverance and planning alone. He had blue blood but still bled like the rest of the human race. Indeed, the baron was a fairy story you'd hear spoken of with fear, reverence, or both. While you had two more years to be stuck in here, you knew that the memories you were making with him would always stick with you. And, while he may be trapped behind bulletproof glass, you could never be able to escape Helmut Zemo's eyes.

Tonight was no different, or so you thought. As you rolled the trolley with a single tray still on it - his tray - towards its final destination. The food smelled good, but it always did. The baron did not only get his own separate, walled-off section to serve his sentence but his menu. He lived as luxuriously as a high-security prison would permit. Your mouth watered and your stomach fluttered at the thought of him letting you lick his fingers clean of the delicious treats. It was only a night ago that he had invited you to share his meal before and stuck his hand out through the narrow opening and fed you himself. You savored the treats, as the sounds he made as you suckled his skin.

"Good evening, Baron,” you greeted him trying not to sound too giddy. There were cameras and microphones everywhere safe for a few blind spots that you took advantage of to indulge in his touch and taste. Even so, you could never be too careful.

“Good evening, my dear,” he stood up, that signature smirk already spread across his face. “Always a sight for sore eyes,” he said to you once again, but you don’t believe you’d ever get tired of hearing it or seeing him devour you with his eyes before you even slide the dinner tray through the opening in the otherwise sealed door. “I see we have Turkish delight and cherry blossom tea for dessert tonight.” Then, taking the tray, he brushed his fingers against yours and winked.

Leaning against the glass on one side as he rested against the bars on the other, you listened to him talk about the latest show he caught on his retro radio. The tale of the French sailors lost at sea and forsaking their humanity was riveting. Yet again, he could’ve been describing the mind-numbing dishwashing you would be doing later for all you cared. You were sure that his deep, decadent voice would make it sound exciting.

While returning the tray with a handful of Turkish delights left for you to treat yourself with, he asked: “What time is it?” When you answered that it was nearly 7 PM, he wrapped both of his hands around your wrist and whispered: “Thank you for dinner, my dear.” Then, as his grip on you got tighter, you blinked and the blue of his uniform turned red.

There had been a security breach.

Monochrome emergency lights were turned on, the alarm blared and half your arm was pulled inside the cell when the opening closed down on it, bruising your flesh and causing you to scream like a siren.

“Look at me,” he started screaming himself. “Look at me, my dear.” And, when through welling eyes you did look up at him from where you keeled over in pain. “Open the door.”

“What? Why? How H-how did you do this?”

“If you don’t use your security card to open this door, none of us will be free of it,” the baron bellowed out, his hold on your hand not letting up and neither did the latch that landed on top of your arm.

With your free and trembling hand, you slapped the security card against the side of the door and felt him free you as it slid open. While you were on the floor nursing your injured arm by curling around it, he snatched the card from your fidgeting fingers before he helped you up. His strong, solid arms slipped under your knees and around your shoulders as he carried you down the corridor under tens of EXIT signs.

“I’m sorry for your arm, but it had to be done,” he panted as his pace got faster with each cell he passed. Through the blare of the alarms and the pulse of your pain, you heard the other inmates bang against their bulletproof glass. You couldn’t think straight, could barely make anything out except for the sound of his voice and the taste of your salty tears.

You asked him, sobbing: “W-why?”

He answered, wheezing: “Do you remember the countess that visited me the other day?”

“Val?”

“Valentina Allegra de Fontaine, yes. Wrap your good arm around my neck, please.” As you did so, he let go of you to use the card on a door and exit the corridor. “She said she had a ride waiting for me today at 7 PM and all I needed was to make it there on time.” Blinking your tears away and pushing down the hurt of betrayal and the pain he had caused, you looked up at him and saw the same hungry eyes under a dangerous red light. “They trained you to head to the emergency escape pods, but you’re as much of a prisoner here as I am, aren’t you?”

Picking up the pace again, Baron Zemo sounded more like the fairy tales you’ve heard of him as he talked about the plan he came up with to reach a pod and pilot it to the surface where the counties had an aircraft ready to pick him and the vessel up. He sounded more and more like the sinister man you’ve been warned not to warm up to. But, as he breathed heavily and brought you back on your feet, he asked you, his voice dark and deep: “When was the last time you’ve seen the surface world, my dear? You said you were coming up on your third year working here. Three whole years without the sun or the moon. Come with me and we’ll count all the stars you’ve missed out on.”

Your knees were weak as he whispered in your ear, his arms still wound around you as your good one hung off of his shoulder. Your heart was weaker as you whined that you did wish to see the sky again and all the colors of the sunset. Waiting two more years when escape was so close seemed impossible, so you let him pick you up again and carry you into the craft.

Using the security card, he ushered you inside. Noting that there was only room for one passenger, the pilot, he sat you on his lap, your spine against his sternum before he locked the two of you inside and prepared for launch.

Again, as you watched him secure both of you in the seat and steer the pod as if he’s done it a dozen times before, you thought that you were witnessing the myth that is Baron Zemo. Then, as you felt his hot breath in your ear, you were reminded that he was only a man. A man who hasn’t experienced skin-on-skin contact for a fortnight. After setting the coordinates for the nearest coast, you used your healthy arms to reach for the drinkable water every escape pod came with. It was getting hot in that cramped craft and it wasn’t just the lack of each oxygen for two individuals.

“It is getting hot in here,” he confirmed your suspicions while blowing more hot air against the side of your neck. “Mind if I take the shirt off?”

Of course, you didn’t mind, you were thinking of doing the same thing. It was that hot and the promise of his perspired skin sticking against yours was sweet. However, when he reached for the hem of your work shirt, you realized he never mentioned which one he would be taking off. When the tips of his fingers traced your bare skin as he scrunched up your shirt, you sighed and arched your back against his spine. He was slow and careful with the sleeve of your injured arm and, after setting your shirt on the board of the ship, you felt his lips latched onto the back of your hand. “I truly am sorry for trapping you with me.”

“It’s like you said, baron. I was already trapped.”

The baron brought his lips to the back of your hand again for an even hotter kiss. “You’ve set us both free.” Letting his hand go, he reached for the shoulder and the bra strap there. “Now, I can finally see you and not just through a wall of glass.” Sliding it off, he let his lips linger there and both his hands slid the cups down and let your breasts spill out. He hurried to push them up with the palm of his hands and twist the tender tips between his fingers. “I can finally feel you.”

While the pinching of your nipples was almost painful, the sounds you made spoke of the pleasure that spread through you. You pushed against his palm and moaned as he manhandled you, squeezing down on the sensitive flesh and biting down at your tender throat. You couldn’t see the hunger in his eyes anymore, but you knew that he was famished.

“I’ve dreamt of this,” he sighed against the shell of your ear, smoothing his hands down your stomach. “I’ve stayed awake just think about this, about how you’d taste.” One hand, he pushed into your pants while the other he pressed against your lips. “About how sweet your saliva tastes after you drooled all over my fingers.” Then, sinking his fingers between both sets of wet and hungry lips he said: “I’ve dreamt of nothing but how sweet your pussy would taste coming all over my fingers.”

You sucked him in, both sets of fingers in both holes. Your mouth was watering and your cunt was slippery as he slid inside. It was almost as if you'd also been dreaming about this. He took note of this, your trepidation, and snickered: “Have you been touching yourself to the thought of this, of me taking you like this?” As your cunt contracted and your mouth moaned around him, he groaned, and his entrapped erection grew under you. “You have, haven’t you? I’ll tell you a secret,” he bit down your lobe before licking it better. “I’ve been touching myself, too.”

Before he breathed another dirty secret into your ear, you fucking yourself against his fingers and slobbering all over his other fingers. “Touch me,” you pleaded when he pulled them out of your mouth.

“I’ll do more than touch you, my dear,” the baron brought both of his hands to your pants and pushed them down far enough for you to slide them off all the way using your feet. Then, as he spread your thigh wide and bent your knees against the board, his fingers fidgeted with his fly. “I’m going to fuck you like we’ve always dreamed.”

Wet and wanting, you widened the gap between your thighs to allow him to cram his thick and throbbing cock inside you. You stopped breathing when he lifted you off his lap and guided his girth inside, then letting you sit back down as he slid home. Your lungs hurt when you heaved, finally full of him. With his chest rumbling against your back and his mouth moving against your throat, he grunted: “My sweet girl.”

“Baron-”

“You’re just as tasty as I thought you'd be and even tighter,” he muffled his words against your sweaty skin as he lifted you again and let you slide back down again, lubricating his dick and stimulating your sensitive inner walls. “You’re so tight, you’re never letting me go are you?” He chuckled, his voice the deepest it's ever been. “I’m not letting you go either. Such a sweet little pussy. Once we reach the surface, once the countess finds us, I’m going to make her fly us into the horizon.”

“Oh, Baron.”

“My dear sweet girl, I’m never letting you go!”

[hurting-fictional-people]

Betrayal story - part 4

Look, the story has a name (hopefully I’ll come up with a better one later)! And the characters do too!

Anyways, if someone hasn’t seen the picrews (it’s here if you want to), Whumpee is now Liam Beaumont, Caretaker is Chase Raymond and Whumper is Jonah Sharpe. If you have trouble remembering: Caretaker still starts with a C no I totally didn’t give him a name that starts with a C on purpose what are you talking about and I think you’ll get very different vibes from Liam and Jonah haha

CW: electric torture, forced to watch, whumpee held hostage, hurt no comfort (for now), restraints

tagging  @thelazywitchphotographer @swift-perseides @whump-it-like-its-hot  @sunflower1000  @msrandonstuff @fromtheo-withlove  @boxofsilence  @lionhxartx @sometouchofmadness @paleassprince

Part one here, continued from here

-

Twelve messages wait for Chase when he picks up his phone. All from Jonah, all demanding him to work quicker, to give in new information faster. He purses his lips and takes a deep breath, clutching the new drive he was given to fill. 

After so many betrayals, he should be used to the sting that comes along with lying and deceiving. He’s done it before, felt that guilt, drowned in it – and yet he can’t help but hesitate. Liam’s pale lips, creased brows, shallow breaths, sparkle to life in his mind, a painful reminder of what is at stake if he annoys Jonah too much. Right beside Liam’s face, though, are the ones of Chase’s team, his friends, his family, all trusting smiles and loving gazes he cannot ignore. It’s enough for him to type a message and turn off the phone.

Working on it, Chase sends and hopes it is enough to keep the man quiet for at least another day as he turns his computer on and starts erasing from the drive the most meaningful information he’s stolen.

-

When Jonah bursts into his room, Liam is almost happy to see him. Five days have passed since he’s woken up in a room instead of the cell, and all he’s had since then is loneliness and echoing silence. With the only human interaction he was given being the occasional visit from a nurse who gave him a clinical once-over and refused to so much as look him in the eye, it was no real surprise when his thoughts spiraled out of control, swirling around and sinking down between Chase’s inevitable and yet somehow unexpected betrayal, and his new status as a hostage. 

“Doing better?” Jonah asks, leaning against the doorframe. Liam’s heart pounds both in relief and terror at the sound of a voice that isn’t his own.

“Do you care?”

“Getting some rest got your tongue loose, I see.”

“Why are you keeping me here?” That’s the question that’s been eating him alive, disrupting his sleep, watering his fear into a blossoming flower of dread that grows and suffocates any hope that tries to bloom beside it. Each answer Liam’s imagined sounds worst than the last, but if there is truth in any of them, he has to know. To prepare. 

“We talked about this already, didn’t we?”

Jonah’s eyes are as cold as he remembers from their few encounters, but this time something lurking there whispers stories of anger and pain to come, and that alone is enough to raise goosebumps along his entire body. 

“What do you want to let me go?” What could he have to give a man who is already filthy rich, when Liam has nothing to offer but a cramped apartment and a lot of resentment?

“Nothing you can offer, lovely,” Jonah chuckles. “Fair try, though.”

But nothing about this is fair, in any possible way. “So you are just going to keep me here because you don’t like Chase? I have nothing to do with him, please just let me the fuck go and I won’t even tell anyone, you–“

“Liam, honey, let us clear something up. There is nothing you can do to convince me to let you go. All you can do is comply, and maybe I’ll be merciful if you do, but you are mine for the time being, and there is no one here to help you but me.”

Liam’s reply dies on his tongue, killed by the unrestricted horror the words wash him over with. It doesn’t sound real. Sounds like something he’d watch in a movie, read in a book, hear about on the news. To hear them directed at him and feel the pulsating response from the healing stab wound in his gut, makes him hold his breath and pray to just wake up from this nightmare. When did his life turn into this? Was it when he met Chase? Was it before? 

“Now that that’s out of the way, come on, we have somewhere to go today.”

Liam’s stomach drops to the ground, farther, falling and falling to the center of the Earth as he clenches the sheets in his fists and hisses, “Last time you said that, you locked me up until I got an infection.”

“Ha, that was fun, wasn’t it?” Jonah says, raising a brow. Liam doesn’t even blink at the grin playing on his lips. “Don’t worry, love, I don’t make the same mistake twice. We’re having a different kind of fun today. Up now, or I’ll call my men to do it for you.”

Gritting his teeth, Liam pushes the sheets away and slowly stands up, holding his side and fighting a groan, but on his feet without help.

They walk in silence, and neither Jonah nor the guards say anything about how slow he is, or how terribly pitiful he looks stumbling through the hallways. A thousand words speed through his brain, pleading to be heard, but he doesn’t voice any of his questions. Doesn’t think he’d get an answer if he did, anyway.

He is led into a nearly barren room, with only a camera over a tripod standing in front of a wooden chair. A wooden chair surrounded by restraints.

He takes a step back before his brain catches up with the movement, straight against a guards’ chest. Jonah giggles and tuts softly. 

Two men grab his arms and drag him to the chair, and the panic suddenly becomes so deep, so all-encompassing, it swallows down his fight. He is pushed down on the chair, the restraints are buckled around him until all Liam can move is his head, and all the while he just sits there, hyperventilating and near to tears, as still as a statue. Watching but never moving, terrified but frozen in place, petrified, and he hates himself for it, even if he knows the feeling should be directed at Jonah and Jonah alone.

“Well, I didn’t know you’d be so pliable, sweetheart,” Jonah mocks, setting the camera up. “I would’ve played with you sooner had I known.”

He parts his lips, but the words refuse to form. Fear envelops each of them before Liam can push them through gritted teeth, and all he does is stare at the guards surrounding him, at the cold stickers being placed on his arms, his shoulders, his hands. Liam shivers, but there’s no air current here.

“Why, why, why are you doing this?” he chokes out. He knows what’s about to happen, has seen it on television enough times to recognize the electrodes, the box placed next to the chair. 

“Because Chase pissed me off today,” he shrugs, and a red light blinks to life in front of the camera. Jonah walks toward him, stops in front of the chair, and smiles. Liam’s eyes are blown wide as he stares up at the man. “Has Chase ever told you that you have beautiful eyes?”

The weight on his stomach is so huge that Liam can’t even find energy enough to feel outraged.

Jonah pulls out a linen scarf from his pocket as the guards plug wires to each sticker and wiggles it in front of Liam’s face. “Here, I’d bite down on this if I were you.” When he fails to open his mouth, the man rolls his eyes and grabs his cheeks, squeezing so suddenly and cruelly his mouth opens without command and the scarf is shoved inside, making him gag. “Not that well behaved, huh. No problem, we have time to get you obeying.”

When the guards take a step away, Liam finds himself wishing they didn’t. 

“Smile at the camera, love,” Jonah says, stepping to the side so Liam is the only one being recorded. He stares straight at the lens and tries to draw in a deep breath.

He knows it is coming. He prepares for it. And then Jonah flips a switch, and there’s no preparing for pain so big, for agony so deep.

The world shatters around him as electricity lights up his body, turns him inside out, upside down, and no breath could’ve ever made this any better. There’s no air to breathe, no room to writhe, no place to escape. There is only pain, boundless and searing, here and now, splitting him into thousands of shards he can never hope to piece back together.

And then it stops, and his throat is raw but he doesn’t remember screaming and his chest heaves as he fights for air and tears fall from his eyes to his chin to his chest but he doesn’t remember crying either.

“Beautiful,” Jonah sighs somewhere close. Liam coughs and chokes on his own tears, trying to beg or maybe cry out, but whatever his mouth forms gets caught on the gag before it reaches anyone’s ears.

Please please please stop, it hurts, hurts so much, so, so much, please, please–

“Let’s go again.”

Liam doesn’t have time to even be scared before his world dissolves into burning agony once more. All he can do is scream and silently plead for help he knows isn’t coming.

-

When Chase turns on the phone, his heart nearly stops at the video awaiting him.

Two hours have passed. After five days of trying to convince that despicable man to let him see Liam and failing miserably, barely sleeping, worry and guilt eating at his insides, he fell asleep. He forgot. For one hundred and twenty minutes he allowed himself to rest, and now he is paid with Liam’s frozen image staring at him, waiting on Jonah’s chat, along with one single line of text that chills him to the bone.

This is for turning off the phone.

He clicks and feels a chasm opening in his gut when Liam fills the screen, strapped to a chair, scared eyes darting around a room Chase can’t see through the video, searching for an escape that is nowhere to be found, stopping on each electrode that is stuck to his body. The fear is clear as crystal on his face. It makes Chase’s heart squeeze until his chest is so tight he places a hand there, afraid to find it as hollow as he feels. Liam doesn’t talk, doesn’t scream, doesn’t beg. He simply blinks at the men towering over him and doesn’t ask for help, and that might be what truly undoes Chase.

And then Jonah turns on the switch, and Liam’s head snaps back, body contorting against restraints so tight there’s no room for him the thrash. Even through the gag, he screams, and Chase would scream as well if he wasn’t too busy gripping the phone as if his life depended on it, trying to steady his trembling hands.

When the shock stops, Liam’s face is tear-stained and exhausted, sobs wracking his body and ripping apart Chase’s soul. 

His fault.

It is his fault. After everything, after betraying Liam into not trusting anyone, after losing the boy who might’ve been the love of his life, after being responsible for his stabbing, his kidnapping, after everything–

The switch is turned on again, and this time when Liam screams, Chase’s eyes well up with tears he has no right to cry. A kind of rotten helplessness takes over his body, its clawed fingers wrapping around his arms, his legs, his heart and squeezing, whispering and shouting his failure, his guilt, his powerlessness. His eyes plead to close, but he needs to see this. It is his fault, his burden, and if Liam was forced through it, he has to at least watch it to the end. If anything, to know he’s still alive.

It lasts longer the second time. A life. His useless life. Liam convulses and cries and howls, and if Chase could only take the pain to himself, he would. He would switch places with Liam in the blink of an eye. He is the one who deserves that pain. He is the one who betrays and hurts and destroys anything he touches, and it should be him, not the boy who smiles at the sunrise and cries over books and dreams about changing the world. 

He stares unblinking at the screen and watches in silence as electricity courses again and again through that body he had once held and thought about spending a life beside, fogging those eyes that used to engulf him in love, twisting that face he once kissed and touched and loved into one of raw despair. Each time it stops, neither of them has time to catch their breath before it starts again. After the third time, Liam doesn’t cry out anymore. His voice breaks in a ragged wail until it dies down and all that’s left are silent sobs.

When the video ends, Chase is nearly numb. The last image shows Liam’s head hanging forward as he struggles to breathe, Jonah’s fingers casually carding through his sweaty hair.

Chase is out of his house before his brain even processes what he’s doing, inside his car, driving to Jonah’s building in a blur of hatred and desperation. When he parks in front of the tower, the phone buzzes and he doesn’t hesitate to read it. Not anymore. Never again.

You lost visit privileges. Leave the drive with the guard at the door and keep in touch. 

With Liam’s screams still ringing inside his mind, forever trapped there, he doesn’t dare do anything other than what he is told. He gives the guard the flash drive, and for the first time in years, he prays. Because if anyone notices the most important files missing… he can’t bear the thought of what could be done to Liam in retribution. 

(next)