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#and how glad she is that he is going to have such a good wife
asarajaa · 1 day
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Hi Sarah! Love you hcs could you do some hcs about bonten rindou who's trying to get attention from the reader but the reader is busy?? Thank you love!!!
Hello sweetheart! Tysm!
Ofc! Here you have it 🤗 🤗 🤗
My boy rindou needs to be more drawn, like I only found one GOOD pic of him in Bonten for the banner 😩😭
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Warnings: fem!reader, fluff Words: 963 Disclaimer: English isn't my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!
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Rindou wanting attention hcs
₊˚ෆ Okay so one thing that I know is that Rindou is an attention seeker (just like his brother), don't ask me how I just know 🤷🏽‍♀️
₊˚ෆ He's the little brother after all, what else did you expect?
₊˚ෆ Plus, Ran doesn't help, really. Like I believe that Ran's Rindou's number one fan. I hc that when Rindou had a theater or smh like that at school Ran would be in the first line recording, clapping, screaming and just being Ran tbh.
₊˚ෆ At the start of your relationship with him he wouldn't show it, he's a 29 year old mafia man who is independant (his brother doesn't count), but as it progresses…
₊˚ෆ Look, when it comes to you, realistically, or he couldn't care less or he would lose his mind. Like he's a mafia man, I don't know what you expected.
₊˚ෆ If is the last option, the only Bonten member apart from him you'll know is his brother, no one else. This man is like a doberman, he'll protect you even if that's the last thing he'll do.
₊˚ෆ Ofc, Ran would do the same. You make his brother happy? He would protect you no matter what, just like Rindou would do it with his girl. There would be 4 persons in your marriage with Rindou; the two of you ofc and then Ran and his wife.
₊˚ෆ Because of this closeness, you and Ran's wife inevitably became friends, reaching the point of being like sisters who grew up together.
₊˚ෆ The only way for you to be Rindou's wife is if you knew him before everything. Here, the woman of the process was you and the woman to whom Rindou showed his teachings was also you. The same happens with Ran.
₊˚ෆ You'll meet each other in your high schooler years and stay with together since then, as the same happens with Rans wife, you girls practically grew up together.
₊˚ෆ When your husbands work, you would be going to Pilates class together, having brunches very frequently, planning playdates for your children (if you have them) and so on.
₊˚ෆ Basically you girls are maintained, at their insistence more than anything (because there is no way your husbands will let their wives do a single bit of work).
₊˚ෆ In this family of 4, visit each other was a tradition. Every Saturday, you went to each other's houses to have dinner.
₊˚ෆ Of course, when you see your bestie you forget about everything else. She's your bestie after all, you've got to tell each other tea when the spoon, the sugar and the cup weren't around. And if there's someone to blame, it's their fault.
₊˚ෆ Rindou didn't notice, just happy to see you happily talking with your best friend. He knows he is out very often, so he's glad you have someone to talk to.
₊˚ෆ But when the hours went by, and you're just talking with his brother and his wife, Rindou started to pout.
"What? You're seeing things, go check yourself for schizophrenia baby." he'll say every time you bring up the topic.
₊˚ෆ Rindou's an attention seeker and a semidirect one, like he'll give you a very direct hint about his feelings. He's a man, he's not ashamed about his feelings (to the most of them) and he's a "were not going to bed before we resolve our problem" type of guy.
₊˚ෆ He demonstrated this after a while.
You and Rans wife were happily talking in the living room, Ran doing some comments here and there but mostly of all you and her.
"–and the house must be clean! And that's literally what he told Asteria" she finished, leaning back to her husband’s arm again.
"No way!" you gasped in shock.
"I know, right? After all the things Asteria has done for him." she said letting out a sigh "He has the nerve to ask for more when she has done the impossible for him and for their family."
"Men these days." you denied with disappointment, getting supported by an assent and a 'yeah' for her part "Oh! How did I forget it? We have a present for you guys for your new pregnancy!" you revealed enthusiastic.
"Really? You guys didn't have to." said Ran.
"Nonsense, we gotta show our good wishes for the new future member." replied Rindou "It's in the car, we'll go for it, wait here." Rindou said standing up first, extending a hand to help you standing up.
As you guys were going to the garage, you felt a hand on your waist, pulling you closely to Rindous body.
"You know, you seem to enjoy the company of your best friend who you see almost every day more than the company of your husband, the one who is out very often." he said, giving you a squeeze on your waist while he took out the car keys with the other one.
"Ow, you want my attention? Is that what's going on?" you said teasing him, losing the warmth of his hand as he went to get the gift.
"Yes. I would be grateful, thank you." Rindou said directly, coming back with the gift (a very pretty baby cart that costed thousands) in his hands.
You chuckle as you were going to his side, hugging one of his arms and starting to tell him that it would be great to have another baby (or your first) so that It could be your best friends partner and thanks to that you could become family and- No, Rindou, our marriage is not enough, if our kids get married it would be like another different level.
Rindou, looking at you while you were daydreaming about some childhood best friend trope, wouldn't avoid the thought of-
Anything to see that smile in your face, my love.
₊˚ෆ Two month went by, and guess who's pregnant?
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I love Rindou sm 😭💗
I hc that he would be very direct like he wouldn't have any drop of shame in his body.
omg it's currently 0:28 and I didn't make my masterlist yet 😩
Update: omg I’m so dumb, I just noticed that the request said that the reader was BUSY like doing smth and not having time 4 him like I didn’t finished reading the request– omg I’m so stupid 💀✋🏽
I’m so sorry, please send me a request saying if do you want me to change it or anything. I’m so sorry but it’s currently 1:57 and my brain is not braining 😭😭😭
So sorry baby :(
28/04/24
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© asarajaa — Please, do not copy, translate or reuse my work without my permission.
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im2tired4usernames · 1 month
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I hate that I literally just do not trust any of the older folks in my family to do right by anyone
#if i have learned anything from my grandparents parents uncles and aunts it's how not to treat children and spouses#i hope I'm a good wife to my wife and that i never put them through pain I've seen people put their partners through#i hope i never treat any children in my life like they do#i hope my possible children my nephews and nieces and my siblings always know they have a home with me#EVEN if I'm mad or disappointed in them#even if they scream how much they hate me i hope they know i love them I'll still feed them and make sure that's safe#i hope the people in my life never have to question of they're loved or safe with me i hope i can provide for them so they never have to go#with out something they need and then some to spoil them i want these people loved#i don't want my daughter to think because she talked back to me or is dating someone in not super found of that I'm goin to throw her away#i hope all the kids in my life always know I will try to take care of them as best i can no matter what#not trusting your elders to love you sucks ass not trusting your partner to love you through the scary bits of life sucks#i know so many men who just leave their spouses or cheat on them when they're wives get cancer#that's one thing I'm glad my dad did everything he could to try to let my mom know he loved hwr when she was here at least#i didn't understand or like some of the things he did but qt least he stayed with her and loved her then#unlike some people I'm regrettably related to#i hwar people at work talk about their spouses also one lady wants her husband to die#and it makes me sad i hope to God. my wife never has to question how much i love them i hope they feel loved and special forever#i hate how people treat the people they say they love the most i hope i am not like that i hope i never ever get like that
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tealfruit · 4 months
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it's really fuckin weird being, I guess, Good At Dealing With Grief while being around people who are just absolutely brokenhearted and wrecked. and having to be like Well Guess I'll Just Get Busy On The Business Stuff.
#nerd alert#his wife is all like you know what youre in shock i know youre not processing it yet its ok#im like no i like speedran the five stages the night it happened. i might go back and replay slower later but like i get it.#like idk. i feel sad about it for sure. but like. idk she was showing videos of him she took while he was drunk of his ass#laughing hysterically at like nothing and being goofy and shit and im watching like. yeah :) thats my dad :) glad he was happy in life :)#and like knowing how he felt about me is like. the only things that really make me kinda sad#is that for one he wont be at my wedding. sadge.#for another i think he thought our relationship was a lot more strained than i thought it was#bc he couldnt bring himself to respect my gender or my name but honestly it was something i mostly had accepted#like yeah i was very clear about how i felt about being deadnamed but i think he thought i was a lot more mad about it#i was frustrated to be sure but i was like. yknow i have bigger problems im not THAT pressed about it.#i wish i couldve let him know that really it wasnt that big of a beef. i didnt Not want to see him or talk to him in general#i just was never good at reaching out LOL#but it makes me kinda sad he died thinking i didnt want to talk to him much. but at least i know he loved me and was glad im happy#according to his wife and my bro he was all like 'i cant think of her as a boy and she might be kinda misled but im glad shes happy'#which like. ok sure. thats sweet enough i guess and im glad he did know i was happy at least#idk. its weeeeeeiird
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c-nstantine · 2 months
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Bruce being Cockblocked
Description: In which Bruce just wants to fuck his wife
Warnings: Bruce being horny, cursing
Word Count: 1.2k
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It was rare but Bruce had allowed himself to sleep in. He found it so much easier to sleep in with his beautiful wife next to him. Her leg was currently slung around his waist and her bonnet-covered head was on his chest. He sighed in contentment. He liked to watch her sleep and it was a rare treat for him. He felt her stir against him as her eyes fluttered open. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and she looked at him with a sleepy smile.
"How long do you think we have before the kids barge in?" He asked with a smirk. He rolled on top of her and hitched one of her legs against his thigh. He pressed his morning wood into her core. 
"Maybe thirty minutes," She nearly moaned as he licked her neck. 
"I can work with that," He murmured, placing kisses down the side of her neck. He raised her nightgown carefully and was pleasantly surprised when she wasn't wearing any panties. Just as he lowered his boxers, there was a knock on their bedroom door. 
"Mommy, can you sign my permission slip? It's due today!" The voice of little Thomas Wayne said while jiggling the doorknob. Bruce had never been more glad that he locked that door the night before. 
"I'll be in the shower," He groaned as he rolled off of his wife.
-
It wasn't until a week later that Y/N and Bruce had another moment to themselves. Bruce had once again remembered to lock their bedroom door. His wife sat in front of her vanity doing her nighttime skincare routine with her curls pulled back into a puff. 
"I missed you," He said wrapping his arms around his wife's shoulders. 
"I missed you too," She spoke softly while making eye contact with him through the mirror.
"The twins and Thomas are asleep," She mentioned with a small smirk playing upon her lips as she turned to face her husband.
"Does that mean I have my beautiful wife to myself?" Bruce's hand caressed his wife's soft face and she leaned into his touch. 
"Yes, you do," She pressed a small kiss to his lips that quickly grew to be more passionate. Bruce reciprocated quickly and allowed his hands to find her waist. The two broke apart for air just as there was a knock on the door.
"Hey, ma. I threw up," Jason whined from the hallway. Bruce had forgotten that Jason and Dick were spending the night in the manor. Y/N had mentioned it being a part of their family bonding period.
"You are twenty-one (?) years old, just clean it up," Bruce yelled back across the door. He sighed in the nape of her neck and she just patted his back reassuringly. 
"No, I want ma," Jason lightly slapped his hand against the door. Sometimes it was hard to remember that Jason Todd was a 240 lb and 6'3 man even though Y/N tried to set him up with her friend's daughters.
"I'll be right there Jason. Go lay down," She said using her 'mom' tone. She heard his feet shuffle away and realized it was most likely going to be a long night.
"You're such a good mother," Bruce said when he realised that Y/N would be leaving him to tend to their second eldest son 
"That's why you love me," She placed one final kiss on his cheek before going to the kitchen for ginger ale and 
-
Y/N hummed as she walked into Wayne Enterprises. Everyone knew who she was and no one thought twice as she entered Bruce's office and closed the door behind her. She smiled as her husband looked clearly stressed out but there would be time for that later. 
"Bruce, I brought your lunch," She sat the brown bag on his desk and took a seat in the chair across the desk from him. She crossed her legs and smiled. She wore a fitted dress and cardigan while her hair was free in its coils today. Bruce's eyes trailed his wife's delectable thighs up and down.
"I'd rather be eating something else," He muttered before smiling at her lazily.
"Bruce!" She reached up and swatted his arm. Bruce just chuckled and pretended that her swat hurt.
"I miss my wife. It's been so long since we..."He admitted, his eyes never leaving her. If Bruce had one definite kink, it was most definitely eye contact.
"Do you remember the first time we had sex in your office?" She walked over to him and leaned against his desk. She even rocked it a bit to check its stability.
"Trust me, I've had the desk reinforced since then," He stood in front of her and pressed a kiss to her lips. His hands found the familiar curves of her waist and lifted
"Hey, Bruce. Here's the files you asked me for. Oh, hey Mom," Tim walked into the office with a bright smile. The boy looked surprisingly refreshed which means he was most likely napping in his office.
"Hey, Tim," Y/N said with a bright smile.
"Are you guys eating lunch? Can I have some?" He said noticing the brown bag that was on the desk. Tim managed to ignore the fact that his parents were clearly engaged in some sort of make-out session before he walked in.
"Sure," Bruce groaned. He liked spending time with his kids, sure but now he would have to go the whole day with boner like some kind of teenage boy. 
"It's okay," She patted his shoulder once again and offered him a small kiss of pity.
-
"Is Bats okay?" Barry asked Clark as the two of them observed Bruce from the Watchtower. Bruce had bumped into the recruits repeatedly and yelled at one of the government agents aboard. Normally, he would've just said something a bit rude and brushed it off.
"What do you mean?" Clark asked.
"He's been snippier than usual. He's also like a little angry," Barry explained, shuddering at the thought of being yelled at by the Batman. It happened once and Barry went crying to Diana. Never again, he thought to himself.
"I'll talk to him," Clark agreed after watching Bruce stab his mashed potatoes with a fork.
"Bruce, you okay? Everyone's noticed that there is something up with you," Clark sat next to Bruce, who had just slipped off his cowl. He sighed loudly and ran one hand through his hair.
"Clark, I'm only telling you this because no one would believe you," Bruce spoke without a hint of malice. 
"Okay?" He didn't know if that was a compliment or not but was overall glad that Bruce had agreed to open up a little.
"I haven't had sex with my wife in a while," Bruce admitted quietly.
"Well, you are of a certain age now. It's normal that you can-" Clark figured this was an age problem. He wasn't quite sure how old Bruce was but he knew it was older than most members of the Justice League.
"Getting it up is not the problem. The problem is that my kids hate me and keep cockblocking me," He was positive his kids didn't hate him but at this point, he thought they could sense when he wanted to have sex with his wife. The twins have even started crying whenever he would kiss Y/N.
"You'll get through it, buddy," Clark smiled and patted Bruce's shoulder softly. Bruce simply looked at Clark's hand in disgust before Clark walked away. Bruce, in fact, did get through it. It did take him buying a hotel and reserving the whole thing for the night but it worked. 
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inkskinned · 9 months
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you're grabbing lunch with a nice man and he gives you that strange grimace-smile that's popular right now; an almost sardonic "twist" of his mouth while he looks literally down on you. it looks like he practiced the move as he leans back, arms folded. he just finished reciting the details of NFTs to you and explaining Oppenheimer even though he only watched a youtube about it and hasn't actually seen it. you are at the bottom of your wine glass.
you ask the man across from you if he has siblings, desperately looking for a topic. literally anything else.
he says i don't like small talk. and then he smiles again, watching you.
a few years ago, you probably would have said you're above celebrity gossip, but honestly, you've been kind of enjoying the dumb shit of it these days. with the rest of the earth burning, there's something familiar and banal about dragging ariana grande through the mud. you think about jeanette mccurdy, who has often times gently warned the world she's not as nice as she appears. you liked i'm glad my mom died but it made you cry a lot.
he doesn't like small talk, figure out something to say.
you want to talk about responsibility, and how ariana grande is only like 6 days older than you are - which means she just turned 30 and still dresses and acts like a 13 year old, but like sexy. there's something in there about the whole thing - about insecurity, and never growing up, and being sexualized from a young age.
people have been saying that gay people are groomers. like, that's something that's come back into the public. you have even said yourself that it's just ... easier to date men sometimes. you would identify as whatever the opposite of "heteroflexible" is, but here you are again, across from a man. you like every woman, and 3 people on tv. and not this guy. but you're trying. your mother is worried about you. she thinks it's not okay you're single. and honestly this guy was better before you met, back when you were just texting.
wait, shit. are you doing the same thing as ariana grande? are you looking for male validation in order to appease some internalized promise of heteronormativity? do you conform to the idea that your happiness must result in heterosexuality? do you believe that you can resolve your internal loneliness by being accepted into the patriarchy? is there a reason dating men is easier? why are you so scared of fucking it up with women? why don't you reach out to more of them? you have a good sense of humor and a big ol' brain, you could have done a better job at online dating.
also. jesus christ. why can't you just get a drink with somebody without your internal feminism meter pinging. although - in your favor (and judgement aside) in the case of your ariana grande deposition: you have been in enough therapy you probably wouldn't date anyone who had just broken up with their wife of many years (and who has a young child). you'd be like - maybe take some personal time before you begin this journey. like, grande has been on broadway, you'd think she would have heard of the plot of hamlet.
he leans forward and taps two fingers to the table. "i'm not, like an andrew tate guy," he's saying, "but i do think partnership is about two people knowing their place. i like order."
you knew it was going to be hard. being non-straight in any particular way is like, always hard. these days you kind of like answering the question what's your sexuality? with a shrug and a smile - it's fine - is your most common response. like they asked you how your life is going and not to reveal your identity. you like not being straight. you like kissing girls. some days you know you're into men, and sometimes you're sitting across from a man, and you're thinking about the power of compulsory heterosexuality. are you into men, or are you just into the safety that comes from being seen with them? after all, everyone knows you're failing in life unless you have a husband. it almost feels like a gradebook - people see "straight married" as being "all A's", and anything else even vaguely noncompliant as being ... like you dropped out of the school system. you cannot just ignore years of that kind of conditioning, of course you like attention from men.
"so let's talk boundaries." he orders more wine for you, gesturing with one hand like he's rousing an orchestra. sir, this is a fucking chain restaurant. "I am not gonna date someone who still has male friends. also, i don't care about your little friends, i care about me. whatever stupid girls night things - those are lower priority. if i want you there, you're there."
he wasn't like this over text, right? you wouldn't have been even in the building if he was like this. you squint at him. in another version of yourself, you'd be running. you'd just get up and go. that's what happens on the internet - people get annoyed, and they just leave. you are locked in place, almost frozen. you need to go to the bathroom and text someone to call you so you have an excuse, like it's rude to just-leave. like he already kind of owns you. rudeness implies a power paradigm, though. see, even your social anxiety allows the patriarchy to get to you.
you take a sip of the new glass of wine. maybe this will be a funny story. maybe you can write about it on your blog. maybe you can meet ariana grande and ask her if she just maybe needs to take some time to sit and think about her happiness and how she measures her own success.
is this settling down? is this all that's left in your dating pool? just accepting that someone will eventually love you, and you have to stop being picky about who "makes" you a wife?
you look down to your hand, clutching the knife.
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sweet-as-an-angel · 2 months
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how about yan!dilf finding out that his darling has an onlyfans account?
Yandere DILF! Reaction to You Having an OnlyFans
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Warnings: 18+, Smut, Manipulation, Blackmail, Infidelity, Pet Names, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except You.
Wordcount: 4364 words
♡ Good Lord, WHO gave this man internet access.
♡ Going to keep it real with you, babe, you’re finished if he finds your OnlyFans account. And so is he (in more ways than one) – but more on that later.
♡ Let’s say Domninic’s many, many hours of internet sleuthing (stalking) have led him to the pearly gates of your Only Fans account, the only thing separating him from whatever lies on the other side being a pay wall. One of the only kinds of walls that can’t stop Dominic.
♡ Of course, he buys a subscription. Of course, he does it under an alias, through an unlisted online banking app, on a burner laptop.
♡ And, upon seeing what you’re offering, he’s glad he took so many precautions.
♡ At first, the two emotions Dominic has felt most commonly throughout his lifetime flash in his ribcage, dance along the edge of his eyelids – make his eyes grow heavy.
♡ Lust and rage.
♡ Lust for the obvious. Rage for that which shouldn’t have angered Dominic.
♡ In a lot of ways, Dominic is a traditionalist; one’s significant other is for their partner and nobody else (even if Dominic doesn’t abide by this logic himself). Thus, to see you, the person he wishes he’d married, the person he knows is fated to be his, spreading their legs for any guy with enough money to buy a coffee, mortifies him.
♡ One, because you’re his. Two, because you sell yourself for such a low price.
♡ Dominic’s too wrapped up in his wrath to see to the vague throbbing between his legs. He’ll just make it Marilyn’s problem later when she returns from book club or whatever it is she does these days – and continue to make it her problem well into the morning when she struggles to emerge from bed, her legs buckling beneath the weight of his anger.
♡ For now, he paces around his office, checks the camera inside the bear he’d given to you months before.
♡ How had he not noticed sooner? He watched the footage from that bear enough times that he can recite everything you’ve ever said, can predict everything you’re going to do, has memorised all the unconscious quirks you adopt when you think no one’s watching.
♡ Dominic comes to the conclusion that you must be conducting your business in another location. One where you won’t be so easily found.
♡ Sure, he could go out, follow you to this location when you think you’re alone. He could even pay someone else to do it. But, amidst his rage, an idea sparks.
♡ No, he has a much better, much more cunning trick up his sleeve.
♡ The next day, Dominic comes to you with an offer he knows you can’t refuse.
♡ “Marilyn and I are going out tomorrow night and we’d like for you to babysit the boys for us.”
♡ You tried to refuse. You tried to make up a reason less nefarious than the one you held in your mind as to why you couldn’t do it. And Dominic only smiled, his eyes never crinkling, the sentiment never reaching them. He looked through you.
♡ He offered to raise your pay to an amount you both couldn’t accept and couldn’t pass up.
♡ This newfound amount was, considering how few subscribers you had on OnlyFans, irresistible. A godsend, in some respects. Especially when Dominic began taking his wife out more and more frequently, needing you to care for his children more often than not.
♡ To Marilyn, Dominic was finally, finally, trying to fix their marriage. To make good on the world he’d promised her those twenty-or-so years ago when he’d imprisoned her in a loveless marriage.
♡ To you, Dominic was being an understanding neighbour who was offering you a chance at a normal living wage out of the kindness of his heart.
♡ To Dominic, it was all a ploy to get you right where he wants you.
♡ The weeks passed. Dominic kept a close eye on your OnlyFans page.
♡ It would soon be time for you to upload your newest batch of material. If you ever found the time to do so, of course. What, with all the extra work Dominic had given you, he wouldn’t be surprised if you’d forgotten. Or simply hadn’t the time.
♡ It mattered little to Dominic now. He knew he had you on the ropes.
♡ The shift from one foot to the other as he offered you yet another night to babysit his boys, only for your eyes to lower. Uneasy.
♡ You’d tried the old “I’m sorry, Mr. Laurier–”
♡ “Please, (Y/N), we’ve been over this.” He smiles down at you. “Call me Dominic.”
♡ You try again.
♡ “Dominic – I’m sorry, but I just don’t think I’ll be able to tonight–”
♡ And Dominic used the tried and tested: “Oh…is it the pay? I can pay you more, if that’s the issue–”
♡ Issue. You’re making a problem out of this, not him.
♡ You backpedal. You sigh. You try to stand your ground.
♡ Unfortunately for you, the ground you’re standing on is merely a sheet Dominic is going to pull out from under you at any moment.
♡ You tried. Really, you did. Tried to reject Dominic’s kindness.
♡ And he looks down at you. He’s too beautiful for a grimace, he knows this. He puts on a mask he’s sculpted just for this moment – the false front.
♡ “I see,” he says, his voice low. His gaze shifts off to the side. He pretends to look for the right words to say. He already has them in his back pocket.
♡ “I understand. It’s just that…well…” He sighs. Places a hand on his hip. A change in posture. Something’s shifted about him. You’re paying attention, the oncoming of regret starting to form in the pit of your stomach.
♡ Dominic looks you dead in the eyes.
♡ “Don’t…tell anyone I told you this,” he looks behind him. Turns back to you. “But, Marilyn and I don’t really trust anyone else with our babies – we only keep asking you because…well, you’re brilliant with them.”
♡ He says it like it’s common sense. Flattery is every manipulator’s best friend.
♡ He senses reservation in you. He keeps going.
♡ “And…no, forget it, it’s fine. We’ll just cancel,” he smiles down at you. This time, the smile does reach his eyes. Makes it look like he’s hiding something else. Sorrow.
♡ You gasp inwardly, you take a step towards him.
♡ “Oh, I’m sorry! No, no, I can watch them tonight. I’ll just…do my work tomorrow,”
vYou try to smile. Dominic’s becomes genuine.
♡ “You sure? We–” Marilyn and I, halve the blame– “wouldn’t want to be keeping you from anything important.”
♡ You assure him they aren’t. That he isn’t. He’s won this round.
♡ He puts his hand on your shoulder. You’ve known each other long enough now that this is no longer a gesture that would inflict upon Dominic a problem he’d be lumbered with until he can, quite literally, take it into his own hands, and that you don’t flinch beneath his touch.
♡ There will be time enough for that. He knows this.
♡ And so, Dominic leaves you with an estimation of the time of his outing and his arrival. 
♡ “We’ll be back before you know it,” he says. He smiles at you from the front door, the handle in his grip. He leaves, his victory ringing in his head, making his heart thrum.
♡ And he didn’t even need to bust out the old ‘My marriage is failing’ shtick.
♡ True to his word, Dominic and his wife leave early into the evening, a rehash of their sons’ bedtimes and snack preferences no longer necessary. Second nature to you now.
-
♡ Your work – your OnlyFans content – played on your mind for the whole evening. Time seemed to slip away and stand still – paradoxy – as you pleaded inwardly for Dominic and Marilyn to return.
♡ The hours bled into one another, tearing away from what you could have been doing instead of guarding the house while Marilyn’s children slept upstairs, for truly they were more Marilyn’s offspring than they were Dominic’s.
♡ A half hour passed. Forty-five minutes. An hour.
♡ You came to face the possibility – the likely reality – that you would simply have to announce to the few followers you had that there would be no new content this month; that you would supply them with what they paid for twice over in a few weeks’ time. And pray that you actually had an audience patient enough to outlast your absence before that.
♡ Amidst your planning of damage control, an idea poked its head from the shadows. A failsafe. A sequel to your desperation.
♡ You could always just…take a few pictures here.
♡ The idea flashed in your mind like a life alternate to your own; past, with the certainty of already having been lived. All consequences already tangible. Foreseen.
♡ Perhaps that was why the anxiety associated with such expeditions into unfamiliarity had failed to catch up with you.
♡ Or, perhaps something masked it. Desperation, or one of its subsidiaries.
♡ Of course, you tried to stifle the idea. Tried to suffocate it with the smoke through which it walked. Though, its fiery grasp had mastered the art of survival.
♡ It wouldn’t go away. Much like Dominic’s lingering gaze whenever his wife was out of eye-shot and only you remained.
♡ Ten minutes crawled by and you almost wished for the rapidity with which the last hours had passed to find you, seek you out amidst this frozen landscape Time had entombed you in.
♡ And, as is the folly of man, you entertained that which should not be. You considered the likelihood – the schematics – of indulging such a proposition.
♡ Nobody was home and the boys were asleep, out of the way. Most rooms were large enough and devoid of personality so to mask your location – especially if the Lauriers had more of the sterile white sheets they laid their bed with.
♡ Then, a memory.
♡ A basement, tucked away between the folds of your psyche as its location within the house. You recalled the couple having one – a sizable one at that – when Dominic had invited you down there with him to retrieve more seating for his lawn party.
♡ You knew where it was. Knew where the keys were kept.
♡ And so, with a hammering heart and a withering step, you sought your fortune.
♡ The keys were easily enough discovered. As was the creaking door of the basement. And, upon your descension – biblical in your visage as the light from the hallway, dim as it were, cast a glow about your silhouette amidst the depths of the basement – you found precisely what you needed.
♡ A space – clean, untouched – equipped with white sheets covering a mass of boxes. Sure, they were creased; stained with Age’s attempts at youth, gripping onto the sheets and leaving his spectral marks – wrinkles – in their cotton-thin sheets, but they were there.
♡ You cast a keen ear to the ceiling, the living room floor, every few minutes as you looked for a place to start filming, a place to lay the sheets down, something to cover your face.
♡ You find a place, retrieve a Halloween mask from one of the boxes, and, without much deliberation, begin filming.
♡ What you do is nobody’s business but your own. Well, yours and the hungry men who survey your account for any crumbs you deign to feed them.
♡ What you don’t hear through the conduct of your business is the return of the home’s owner.
♡ Dominic hung up his coat, made little show of announcing his presence, and went straight for the basement.
♡ Don’t ask how he knew you’d be there.
♡ His steps grew more deliberate, louder, the closer he grew.
♡ You didn’t even know he was home until it was too late.
♡ At the height of your percussion, just when you were about to reach the moment of your video that would make the lead up worth it, something hit the floor behind you.
♡ You jumped. Whipped round to see what had happened.
♡ And there was Dominic. Hair black as the corners of the room, eyes void of any discernible emotion as he looked down at you, arms crossed over his chest, the top of his shirt undone by two buttons, not even out of his work clothes.
♡ You fumbled, the apologies, explanations and defences lodged in your throat as you choked to get them out, slamming your thighs together and reaching for the camera in your bid to shut it down. You tore the mask from your head, revealing blushed cheeks and a light sheen of sweat forming from the neck up.
♡ Dominic made sure to stay out of the camera’s line of sight, to remain only an anonymous spectator as he circled the room. He said nothing. Did nothing. Just watched and waited, walking.
♡ It was only after he knew the camera was off, your confidence in tatters around you, that he approached.
♡ You tried explaining, but he just shushed you.
♡ “No need to explain, my Dear,” he told you. He sighed, deeply, brought the corner of his lip between his teeth. He donned the veneer of disappointment.
♡ “I suppose I’m just…shocked,” he said. He leaned against a stack of boxes, solid against his back. He ran a hand through his hair and looked off somewhere. “I never knew you were…that kind of person,”
♡ The way he said that, like it had bleached his tongue just to speak it, made your heart sink lower.
♡ “I mean, what do we do now?” He made sure he gave you an incredulous glance, feigned disappointed abashment. “I pay you to look after my sons and I find you here, doing…” He looked to the camera, briefly, then away. As if he could still see what you had done on the tiny screen attached to it.
♡ You apologised profusely, tried to defend yourself: “Mr. Laurier, please – I didn’t– I never–”
♡ He didn’t interrupt you. He let you tie yourself in knots. Like a pretty present, all for him.
♡ Once you had exhausted your ability to explain yourself, Dominic let your fear hang for a moment, let it sink before you like a darkness bowing the ceiling above you. The singular lightbulb flickered.
♡ Dominic sighed. Pushed off the boxes. Came to you.
♡ “Honestly, (Y/N), if you were that desperate for money, you could’ve just asked.”
♡ He knew that wasn’t why you were doing this. But he also knew you’d accept whatever out he gave you. You listened.
♡ “Have I not been paying you enough? Have I misvalued your capabilities for this position?”
♡ The way his eyes flickered to your locked-together legs as he said position made your skin shiver.
♡ “Or…” he looked down on you. Relaxed his posture.
♡ “Is there perhaps some other reason you chose to…conduct yourself here?”
♡ When you didn’t answer, trying to decode his crypticism, he cocked his head ever so slightly to the side.
♡ “Could it be that you…wanted me to find you like this?”
♡ You tried to deny it, tried your utmost to say you’d never do such a thing to anyone, least of all your married neighbour and employer, but Dominic would hear none of it.
♡ “I’m flattered, really.” He says. He cast his eyes down, as if mulling over a secret. “My wife and I’s deteriorating marriage must be worse than I thought if it was so apparent to you of all people.”
♡ You knew such a comment, especially under these circumstances, shouldn’t have stung the way it did. Dominic only let you ruminate on it for a moment.
♡ “Maybe you wanted to show me something you knew Marilyn couldn’t.”
♡ Your jaw dropped. Dominic came to stand behind the camera. He toyed with it, general, not looking at anything in particular. You begged that he wouldn’t find a way to review the footage.
♡ Domonic stood back, looked down at you.
♡ “How about a compromise,” he offered. You watched him, eyes wide, heart pounding, stomach churning, breath short. He gave a pale smile.
♡ “You help me burn off some of the tension I’ve had building up over the last few weeks,” his eyes darkened. “And we’ll never speak a word of what happened here tonight.”
♡ Your words caught in your throat again.
♡ You knew Dominic was attractive, sure, but to help him cheat on his wife? And one so kind and loving as Marilyn–
♡ Your head span. Dominic had thrown you a lifeline.
♡ With a sigh, you evaluated your options.
♡ Your OnlyFans rarely made enough money to keep you financially independent, even for a short while; you had more to lose if you couldn’t keep your babysitting job. And you knew there was no chance Dominic would let you babysit again if he thought this was what you’d be doing during the dark hours of the evening.
♡ And what if he told Marilyn? What if she told their neighbours, your parents–
♡ In your vulnerability, your worry for your own preservation, you quietly agreed.
♡ And besides, you rationalised with yourself as the weight of the situation, of Dominic settling behind you, sank in. Better for Marilyn that he’s doing this with me rather than someone she doesn’t know, right?
♡ Given your bottom half was already bare, Dominic didn’t have to waste time undressing you himself. Though, under any other circumstances, he’d have jumped at the privilege.
♡ He’d often dreamed of this entire process being slower, gentler, and in the comfort of a bed in some lush space – usually a hotel. Not the sheet-covered ground of his cold basement.
♡ That evening, the mask Dominic wore was that of the common thief, for from you he stole your dignity. Your future.
♡ What you hadn’t realised was, as Dominic had been stood by the camera, he’d set it to record. Premeditated.
♡ You didn’t question why he pulled the mask from beside you onto his head. You just assumed, in your post-panic haze, that this was something he was into. Something he hid from Marilyn.
♡ Dominic still wore his work pants and had them pulled down to the bottom of his thighs. He’d also done away with his shirt from what you could feel of his skin; he radiated heat like you’d never felt before, even when you’d been in close proximity to him prior to this.
♡ You didn’t even have chance to think of much, to let the guilt and abashment of this whole situation weigh in on you as, with Dominic’s hands about your waist as if to steady you, he pushed in, filling you by an inch or two. 
♡ You were easy to penetrate given your recent activity, but that only served to quell the stretch by a slight margin. You gasped, jolted, and Dominic’s grip about your middle tightened. He pulled you back, inadvertently pushing more of himself into you. You bit your lip, trying not to enjoy the mortifying implications of this entire affair, the feeling of being filled by the man who held your future in his hands.
♡ He was, regardless of whether you’d done this before, nothing like you’d ever experienced. He alternated between being gentle and rough, eventually lodging himself inside you entirely and guiding you up and down his shaft at a rate that suggested patience. Just a minute later, he’d pick up the pace, pulling out and slamming back in, pushing you down so he could reach the deeper parts of you.
♡ And all the while, you could feel a tightness below your stomach. One which, to your panic, strengthened whenever you considered that you were helping a married man cheat on his wife, that your situation was buried beneath so many layers of complexity you feared you’d never see the light of clarity again.
♡ A married man. One who, if his soft touches and stifled moans were anything to go by, held rather a fondness for you in this moment.
♡ Dominic didn’t talk at all throughout the entire encounter, opting only to communicate with an occasional squeeze to your thighs, reaching around to your front to touch you in ways that had you whining and crying, and tugs to your hair whenever you tried to hide your face in your hands.
♡ The whole sordid affair hadn’t unfolded exactly how Dominic had wished – dreamed – it would.
♡ In his dreams, it had been gentler – consistently so. More private. Though, no less taboo.
♡ Now, he was harsher. Rough, though not enough to hurt you. Just enough to make sure you felt every inch of him; just what these subscribers of yours would pay to see.
♡ Dominic pressed close to you as the camera recorded, your face exposed for whoever came into possession of the video to see.
♡ Of course, so long as you remained an obedient little pet, Dominic would never have to release it to anyone.
♡ The transaction, one which left you breathless and sweltering, finished only when Dominic did. He made sure you were satiated, too, something to think about over the coming weeks as you curated more content for your subscribers, every moment no doubt a reminder of your encounter with him.
♡ Afterwards, he removed himself, though with much hesitance. He’d finally, finally attained that which he wanted most – you – and yet it hadn’t been under the circumstances he’d romanticised for so long.
♡ He tried not to think about it, storing it with the rest of the undesirable humanisms he had locked away elsewhere in his psyche. He focussed only on how explosive it had felt, how…alive he was in comparison to all the other times he’d been with someone, using them as nothing more than a mannequin to pump himself with rather than someone to give himself to.
♡ He let you lie on the floor, a blanket draped over you as he sorted himself out. He clicked the camera off, took out the memory card and kept it firmly attached to his palm – all while you weren’t looking, weren’t listening, senses still dazed with all Dominic had given you, done to you.
♡ As he removed the mask, there was a sheen to his skin and a passive glint in his smile that suggested something inhuman and false about him. Something you discovered too late, it would seem.
-
♡ After that evening, you had no choice but to continue on as if nothing had happened. For so long as Dominic was in possession of that night – that memory card – nothing had. You, of course, knew nothing of the card at first. Not until Dominic had let it slip that the camera had been rolling the entire time.
♡ And still, you didn’t question his use of the mask. The serendipitous timing of it all. You could hardly breathe for the ocean boiling in your stomach, your heart bleaching white and your brain paling as you realised you’d just filmed a sex tape that could ruin not just your life, but Dominic’s too.
♡ Oh, if only you knew just how little Dominic cared.
♡ Dominic told you not to worry, that he’d salvaged the memory card and put it somewhere safe only to now return it to you.
♡ He’d duplicated the video, of course. That, he kept somewhere even safer.
♡ Sure, he’d allowed you to upload it to your account when you asked him with wide eyes, your face blurred and his figure already unrecognisable to any of your simps. You still needed content, after all, so why not profit off your late-night tryst with your neighbour?
♡ Which was what led you to come to him now, eyes downcast as he stood before you, arms crossed, smile ready to split his face in half and reveal the parasites that made up his interior.
♡ The truth you gave him? Your account had garnered a great deal of traction since your…uploaded encounter. About three thousand new subscribers, to be exact.
♡ “Oh?” Dominic offered. “And why are you telling me this, mon Chèr? Do you plan on splitting your earnings with me?”
♡ He graced you with his charm, his humour. Tried keeping the situation light.
♡ A redness rolled across your face. Dominic smiled, slim and sly, and allowed you to foster his silence, his attention.
♡ You suggested filming something else. Something that could make the guilt you felt for your last encounter with him feel half worth it.
♡ Nothing ever would, of course. But you could at least try.
♡ And so began a lustrous alliance between yourself and Dominic, the man who had once been your neighbour, then your employer, now your owner.
♡ He used you as he pleased, donned the mask and bent you over under the guise of being the conduit for your growing fanbase. In reality, the scorching, pulsating, blistering reality you inhabited with him, you were his. His star who he made and will break when he sees fit.
♡ So long as he had that memory card, and the growing catalogue of blackmail you keep adding to in your bid to chase what you thought was the weight of your self-worth in cash, you were his.
♡ Infidelitous, yes. But that mattered little to Dominic. Nothing mattered more now that he had you in his hands, whimpering for him, coming undone for him, all while he maintained the safe anonymity of both his mask and the façade of a loving, caring family man.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 11 months
Note
ooh im glad!!! so, expanding on that then..
how about price with a civvi wife/gf, and when they’re talking over the phone while he’s gone, she’s being kinda cagey and definitely omitting something, but he doesn’t know what. so when he gets back home she tells him she’s pregnant? really just a lot of fluff (and maybe angst? 👀 like about how his job is super dangerous and he might not come home, so he has fears about it?? bc your angst is so good it makes me sob violently /pos)
ive never sent a request before, so if this is too specific or something, feel free to whittle it down or toss it, i don’t wanna bug you lol
have a good day hal, love u!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Our Remains
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Pairing: John Price x F!Reader
Synopsis: You disliked hiding things from John. Certainly something as big as this.
Word Count: 4.8k
Warnings: Pregnancy, allusions to breeding kink & unprotected seggsy time, morning sickness, angst, major fluff at the end
A/N: This was an adorable request, Anon!! Thanks so much for sending it in.
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
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You disliked hiding things from John. It not only felt like a betrayal of his unlimited trust in you but also a slap in the face for what you had built with each other. The both of you were always honest to a fault when it came to your relationship—like how a bird was loyal to the sky. It was an unselfish principle; a promise of pure love and devotion that transcended touch or given gifts.
You told each other things. Everything. Down to how much you had spent on groceries that day just because it was something to talk about and share; something that made you closer to one another even when you were apart. You told the Brit what you planted in the back garden—what shirt you were wearing!
But now you hold the ringing phone in your hand and for the first time in your entire relationship, you consider lying. 
Your eyes bore into the icon of John’s smiling face, head covered by a black beanie and beard tilted up softly. Affectionately, his name on the device had been changed to ‘Grumpy St. Bernard,’ but now the title made your lips go thin instead of the usual giggling reaction. No heat spreads over your cheeks; no excitement.
Just an overwhelming sense of dread.
The week had started just as the last three had. A special form of hell. At nearly six o’clock you would whip back the covers with all the fervor of a terrified rabbit being chased by a hawk; the taste of bile immediately snapping you to attention as the toilet acts as your commanding officer. 
You imagined John would get a chuckle out of that comparison, but when you’re hurling up your guts in nothing more than a pair of your boyfriend’s boxers and a tank top it’s hard to think about all that. The taste of bile was still lickable from your lips as the bathroom tile digs into your knees, ringing phone still in your palm. 
The idea of a pregnancy test slid into your subconscious in the first week of John’s two-month deployment, the tantalizing thought that was like a hook to a fish. You had pulled on the string, of course, and had instantly drowned in air. But you hadn’t taken one until now. Too nervous, perhaps. Hesitant. 
In your other hand, opposite of the buzzing phone, you held three positive pregnancy tests in a shaking grip. Pink and white plastic mock you from the corner of your vision; two double lines. 
John’s icon dims. 
You press the green circle in your panic, mouth opening and closing yet no sounds escaping. Would you tell him now? Later? Was it right to tell him about this now—when he was halfway across the continent? Fear overtakes your heart for no apparent reason. You didn’t want him to act rashly, especially when John could act so stubborn when he wanted to. 
He was always so concerned about you when he was away but you were concerned just the same. That man was the one who was getting shot at constantly, not you.
“Took you a while to answer. Trying to give me the slip, then, Sweetheart?” John’s gravelly voice helped slightly, making your heart still, even if for a short moment. You close your eyes and tilt your head down, lips quivering at the soft chuckle over the line.
God, you loved him so much.
Blue eyes furrowed in confusion at the silence on the line, the chilled Switzerland air sneaking inside John’s compression shirt as he stood on the hotel balcony. The sounds of gentle conversation twitch his ears from inside the room—the voices of the One-Four-One a dull mumble behind the half-closed sliding door. They had been playing cards before the Captain had easily slipped away to check up on you. 
He tried to call as often as he could. 
John’s hips shift, one arm crossed over his chest as the other presses the phone harder to his ear. Lips pull to a frown, beard bristles going with them, before the lines on the Brit’s forehead grow larger.
“...Love?” Naturally, a sliver of concern wedges itself into his ribs but it subsides when your calming voice spreads honey over the call. John’s shoulders fall back down. 
You breathe deeply, hands dropping the tests onto the bathroom counter with a small clack of plastic. 
“John,” forcing away the hitch to your words, you stare at yourself in the mirror, free hand sliding up to lightly rest over your collarbone as a soothing method. Your eyes are so filled with shock that it throws you off. “I…I wasn’t expecting a call so soon.” 
“Hm, been up since 0500.” the man grunts, looking out over the city and seeing the rising sun before asking softly with a deep-set brow. There was something about your tone…lids narrow at nothing. “Did I wake you?” 
“No, no,” You force a chuckle, having to take a deep breath before ripping your sights from your own reflection. The disgust was settling at you trying to avoid this. But if your own brain could barely process this right now, what gave you the right to tell John when he wasn’t here? “I’ve been up for a few hours.”
Licking your lips, you run a hand over your hair, glancing out of the ajar door into the master bedroom, pushing out bland answers for only the fact that you couldn’t think clearly right now.
Jesus, this was actually happening. 
You study the thrown covers from your morning rush to the bathroom, seeing the pictures on the nightstand and feeling the delicate atmosphere that was sparking—electricity between atoms. A silent moment of realization that everything down to the bare bones of your relationship was about to change. Blinking back to the tests, you dwell in the strange fuzz that took residence in the back of your mind. 
“What’s been going on?” Your voice isn’t right. Too tight. Too…nervous. Why were you nervous? “Everyone good?” 
The Brit frowns stiffly, shifting his feet again and sending a look back into the hotel. Hunching forward, John’s large fingers fix the position of the phone as his voice lowers, ignoring your question entirely. He doesn't want to jump to conclusions, but there were pros and cons to his line of work. 
Above all, he knew when something was up with you.
“Are you alright over there, Sweetheart?” Blue eyes rove the street below, “Feelin’ okay? You sound a bit stuffed up.”
Your heart lurches, quickly stuttering through an explanation of, “O-oh, I think I just came down with something.” The irony wasn’t lost on you. “A stomach bug,” you cringe, “I’m sorry, was it that obvious?”
The laugh that exits is less convincing than you thought it would be, but it does the trick. John sighs in relief, chuckling as he shakes his head.
“No need to apologize, Love…anything bad, then? I can bring some meds from Base when I’m back if you need me to.” He was still concerned for you, but knowing that you’d never lied or withheld the truth from him before there was really no reason to believe that anything else was going on. John trusted you to the end of the earth. 
The Captain rubbed at the back of his neck, cracking his spine as he bent back. It was still early and waking up on a hotel bed without you beside him was torture. John longed for home. Longed for you.
Back at the house, your face scrunches together. 
Bad? You wonder, saying absentmindedly that some medication would be lovely. Was this…bad? 
John had always wanted to have a kid—or, at least, he’d told you as much when he was above you, filling you to the brim and then doing it again a second and third time. Thighs quivering and eyes fighting to stay open through layered bliss as sharp pants rung in your ears. 
“Gonna get you pregnant…watch you swell up…c’mon sweet thing, you can handle another one, can’t you? Need to watch it take.” 
…But was that a true feeling or just a kink? You blank and realize you’d never asked him. More than that, though, was this what you wanted? 
“When do you think you’ll be home, John?” You speak softly, palm flattening over your stomach as you exit the bathroom and sit on the end of the bed, gut swirling but not in a nauseous sort of way. “I…I really miss you, y’know? It would all be better if you were home.”
The brunette blinks softly, lids peeling back in shock for a moment before a thin thread of guilt worms its way into him. 
“Kate said two months, Love,” John speaks slowly, the grumble in his voice trying to convey his unease at your strange behavior, “You know that.”
He’d explained his job when you both had gotten serious, how he would be gone for long periods of time, and the somewhat uncomfortable situations you’d be put in because of it. You’d agreed and never brought it up when John would have to leave in the small hours of the morning and disappear for months on end. It shocked him, really, with how well you adjusted but that was just how you were. One of a kind. 
There was no one else with whom John could see himself building a life—being buried beside in some nice meadow grave plot and turning to dust together. Growing a family with. 
John cleared his throat, tilting his head down slightly before pulling himself back to the present. 
“It’s bothering you that much, eh?” His brows furrow, “Are you sure you’re alright? I can call hospital and—”
“No!” You slap a hand to your mouth, halting your outburst as blue eyes go somewhat wide, jaw slackening. Taking a breath over the shocked silence over the line, you dig your fingers into your cheek before letting your limb drop. “No, John…I-I’m sorry I just…” 
Your voice quivers.
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…
Eyes burning and nose twitching, you breathe heavily, mouth closing shut because you knew that if you say another word you’ll explode. You were shivering with cold sweat, scared and confused, and wanting John to hold you in his arms; whispering that it would all be okay into the shell of your ear. 
You force through a sob, “I’m just really scared.”
John tenses, one hand going to grasp the balcony with white knuckles. His mind goes into overdrive. “Scared?” the Brit prods, muscles going stiff and mind running, “What in the hell is going on?” 
Authority leaks into his tone, serious and deep. It made him nervous that he couldn’t see you right now—couldn’t stop the sounds coming from your mouth. Why were you crying? Has something horrible happened to you? Were you in trouble but were unable to tell him? John runs over your conversation again, every word and sound, as his heart races. He was wound up like a spring. 
From behind him, the conversation in the hotel room halts. 
You force your eyes closed, now up on your feet and pacing. Tears lightly patter to the floor. 
“John, I can’t tell you over the phone,” you admit, shaking, “that wouldn’t be…wouldn’t be fair to you.” Swiping at your eyes, you spread the salty liquid away from your lashes, sniffling; praying that he would understand. “But I really need you home as soon as you’re able. I don’t want to break up what's going on over there, it’s just really important. I don’t think I can wait two months by myself. You know I would never ask this if I didn’t need to.”
John’s jaw clenches, legs unable to stay still as your anxiety leaks to him. He’s nodding before he realizes you can’t see him, taking a deep breath to fill his lungs. 
“...I’ll see what I can do, then.” The brunette runs his hand over his beard pulling at the strands aggressively. What was so crucial that you can’t tell him over the phone? It was a secure line, John always made sure it was; yet, at the same time, that fact didn’t matter at all. If you needed him home so fervently—then he was coming home. That was that. “How long can you wait for me, Love?” He spares a glance inside. “There are a few loose ends that need to be taken care of here. Might complicate things.” 
You blink around the bedroom, hand wrapped around your middle and trying to run soothing circles into your skin. 
“I…I don’t…” John’s face softens, closing his eyes.
“Breathe, Sweetheart,” he whispers, “I’m comin’ home to you. We’ll get whatever this is sorted, yeah? I need you to be brave for me until then.”
Listening, you let the words calm you down, sniffling one last time like a kid who had fallen off the monkey bars before you let out a chuckle. John instantly follows his own advice when that sound wafts over the line. His shoulders fall back once more, silent sigh exiting.
“You said that exact same thing to me when I ended up burning that loaf of bread I was making—two years ago, was it? ‘Breathe, Sweetheart.’” Blue glimmers with love, cheeky tone growing. 
“Hm, nearly set the kitchen on fire, didn’t you? So much smoke I swore someone had set off a charge in the oven.” John doesn’t push you to answer him, though he’s more questions than anything else at this point. You’d said you would tell him when he’s home and he believes you. “Please, Love, at least promise me you didn’t burn the bloody house down, yeah?” 
A laugh strikes his chest, and he’s chuckling slowly in retaliation. 
“I promise, John.”
“Good.” You’re smiling for the first in what seems like ages, tears drying as the flood down your chin stops. You lick away the water stuck in the corner of your mouth when John grunts lowly, “I’ll tell the boys and inform Laswell. But I can’t say it’ll be less than two weeks.”
Nodding to yourself, you say, quietly, “Okay.” Your eyes fall to the framed picture on the nightstand—the image of John and you smiling brightly on your third anniversary. You’d gone hiking, both sweaty and dirt marks on your cheeks, but happy…always happy. Your veins pump blood faster. “I love you, John.” 
The final comment is tender; the words are more silk and soft furs than vibrating vocal cords. 
He blinks away the blush that lights his pale cheeks. John huffs, an infectious smile flickering over his face as his chest wells with affection. Acting like a bird preening itself, he smirks and says, “Well, you’re lucky then…I love you too, Sweetheart.” An exhalation echoes over the call as his tone drops, “Keep safe for me, eh? I’ll call to update tomorrow.” 
“I’ll be waiting.” 
When the phone is set down on the bed, tossed down carefully, you try to think over this situation more rationally. You wouldn’t say you were against this—building a family with John. In fact, if not him, then you don’t believe it would be anyone else. 
The Brit was the only man for you. You both knew the risks of having unprotected sex and in reality, you think neither one of you cared about the consequences. 
Nodding to yourself, you wonder how to explain this to him when he comes home as you get to fixing the sheets, one hand always drifting back to your stomach with a growing appreciation.
John jogged to his car in the underground parking garage, unlocking it with his fob as his bags are slung over his shoulders. He wastes no time chucking his belongings into the back seat, swiftly sliding into the driver's seat and slamming the door shut as the engine starts. His dog tags bounce on his chest, but he’s half convinced they move from the rate that his heart is going alone.
All through traffic his fingers are tapping against the wheel, grunting stiffly at red lights and shifting his hips. 
It had been three and a half weeks of fixing loose ends. 
“Fuckin’ hell, c’mon,” John huffs, one elbow on the car frame as his hand flattens over his lower jaw. The light slowly snaps back to green after a long minute. 
Pressing on the gas, the vehicle moves forward and continues until the familiar home comes into view on that quiet street nearly twenty minutes later. 
John barely parks the car before he hops out, leaving his bags in the back, and rushes to the door. Taking the key from under the doormat, his mind is focused on only you. He had been unable to stop his worry about you and your unnamed fear, watching the phone with every free instance he could. It had only grown as the days got longer, and no matter how much you assured him that you would be okay until he got back, deep-seated apprehension grew. He didn’t like living under a shroud, especially when it came to your health.
The key in his hand was inserted with a firm wrist and twisted, shoving open the door with a heavy shoulder like there was a cloud over his head.
“Love?!” He calls, not bothering to shuck off his boots before looking around the visible living room and foyer. “Where are you?” 
Long legs move swiftly as an utterance calls from the kitchen, barely taking the time to close the door behind him in his anxiety, “John?” 
The Brit immediately backtracks, skidding to a stop and turning with blinking eyes. His ears twitch at the sounds of dishes being dropped back into water, as his heart steadily slows at the sound of your beautiful voice calling his name. 
He rushes around the doorframe, feet stomping and hand catching the wall as you come into view, staring wide-eyed. 
Your digits are around the fabric of a dish towel, fingers dripping as John finally presents himself to you. You hadn’t heard him until he had called out, too preoccupied with your own thoughts to hear the lock click. 
But now it was like every worry you had was wiped clean at the sight of that gruff face; the hitch in his large chest. A smile slashes your lips after a moment of shocked silence.
“John!” You laugh, rushing forward, and the man lets his face soften—bringing you close to him as you draw near and trapping you in his arms. 
His breath spread out over the top of your head in a great sigh, grumbled chuckles accented by the way John’s great hands wrap around your shoulders. Fingers press you into a solid chest, digging through hair to let your ear twitch at the sound of his heartbeat. 
John doesn't speak until he has held you in his arms for at least three minutes, just pressing his face into your scalp and feeling your warmth against him. You don’t pull away either, breathing in his musk as it instinctually leads to your muscles loosening. 
Minutes later, the Brit pulls back slowly, gripping you by the shoulders and looking down into your eyes. His gaze filters over yours, taking you in before his lips meet yours in a brief yet deep kiss. You melt into it, hands going to grip his cheeks and spread throughout his beard hair, soft strands leaving you shivering when John’s thumbs rub circles into your flesh. 
He pulls back and you fight the tears in your eyes as he connects his forehead with yours. His optics shine with love, bleeding out like trapped stars; silver flecks of devotion and a blue the color of sea storms.
“What’s going on, Love?” John whispers, concern alight and raving as his grip goes to your waist, squeezing comfortingly. “I’m here. Tell me.” 
You blink slowly, lips going thin with tight brows. Swallowing through a tight throat, you nod. 
“Can you go sit in the living room, please?” Speaking carefully, you tilt your head and watch John get confused—his nose scrunching and moving his lips together. You run your thumbs over his cheeks and smile slightly, obviously nervous again. “Trust me.”
Though it wasn’t a question, John replies under his breath, “Always.” 
But still, he holds you, studying your expression and the whites of your eyes with stiff lungs. You were making him fear that something horrible was coming—something he couldn’t control. His heart begins to hurt, but he backs away from you, brows tight as he exits the kitchen and disappears into the living room. 
Taking down a swift breath when he’s out of sight, you fiddle with your fingers above your abdomen, looking down at your still-flat stomach. You knew it was stupid to worry, but how could you not? It wasn’t every day you just told your Lover you were pregnant with his child…
“John loves me,” you mutter to yourself, nodding and getting ready to go through with the plan you’d formed over the three weeks you’d been alone. “And he’ll love the both of us. I know he will.” 
Hand flattening over your stomach, you open a drawer with the other, pulling out a small cardboard box no bigger than a book. Fingers shaking, you lick your lips and feel the slight pull of a nervous, yet giddy, smile. Turning, you exit the kitchen and see John sitting with his nose resting above the clench of his fists, foot tapping. His head immediately snaps over when you come into view, hands falling to hang off his legs as the couch under him dips from his weight. 
You steel yourself and raise the box. 
“Here.” Placing it on the coffee table, you sit across from John in an armchair. 
He blinks slowly, eyes going small with curiosity. The man sends you glances through his lashes as he stares down at the object but he says nothing. Rubbing his beard with one hand, he reaches and grabs it carefully. 
Testing the weight, John is genuinely confused, clenching his jaw and feeling the material in his palm. 
“...What’s this, then?” He asks lowly, glancing at you with a raised brow and lines on his forehead. 
You put your intertwined hands in your lap, prompting with a tilt of your shoulders. 
“Open it.” Off put by your cryptic answers, John nods firmly, grasping the top of the box and pulling lightly, careful not to disturb the contents. It was strange to think, but he was honestly quite perturbed. 
What exactly was inside this box, and why had he been called home for it? He loved being here, no doubt, but the circumstances….
Blue eyes glimmer. You didn’t look overly afraid as you shifted in your seat, just plain timid—like the inside object would change something fundamental about his and yours relationship. 
John pops the top off and looks as you start talking before your throat threatens to shut you up. “I…I know it’s not a life-threatening thing to call you home for,” the man stills as if he was made of stone; a statue as non-breathing and pulse-less as anything, “But I didn’t want to tell you over the phone because that seemed so—!” 
Your voice is drowned out as John’s shaking fingers delve into the box, ears ringing. His fingers flinch off of three positive pregnancy tests and the soft fabric of the plain army green baby onesie that surrounds them; skimming slowly. 
“I found out the day you called and I said I had come down with something.” Your laugh is strained when it exits you, and you stare at the Brit hard, seeing his features utterly halt all expression. Thumbs digging into your skin, your tone drops, speaking slowly, “...John? A-are you okay? Say something to me, Love.” 
It’s only in that long minute of nothingness that you really start to get an all-consuming tenseness to your bones like a rabbit. 
Why isn’t he saying anything? 
John clears his stiff throat, blinking rapidly as he brings out one of the tests, dropping the box lightly to the coffee table with a dull thump. The twin red lines are ingrained into the softness of his retinas as the sun would be if you were to stare directly at it. 
Pregnant. 
His heart swells to an almost painful degree, blue eyes moving to look at you across the table and then dipping to your stomach. The Brit stands up slowly. 
Your lungs are tight, lids moving quickly with wetness growing in your tear ducts. 
“Please, John, what are you thinking—?” Large hands capture your arms, bringing you up as lips meet yours in a passionate and heart-stopping kiss. 
John’s limbs wrap around your hips, bringing you up into the air as gently as a bird, face parting from yours with a series of loud and genuine laughs. You snap your arms around his neck, shocked but not at all complaining as he holds you up with ease, twirling you around in a firm but ever-gentle hold. 
“You’re pregnant?” His whispers meet you, airy and deep with awe. It was like he was in his teens again, running around Herefordshire with his mates—his eyes shone with happiness; pure unabashed love. “Oh, truly, Sweetheart?”
Tears dribble down your cheeks at the sight of him glowing, beard peeled back in a large smile with wet eyes. Hiccuped giggles leave your lips as you nuzzle your face into his neck, the sight of him like this overwhelming. All stress leaves you in a millisecond when your feet hit the ground again. 
“Yes, John,” you sob, overjoyed, pulling back so you both can stare into each other's teary eyes as the Brits’ fingers go to shakily wipe the waterworks from your under eyes. His orbs flicker quickly, looking you over in an entirely different light. “You’re going to be a father.” 
He fights through a scratchy voice, “Me?” The tone is amused, but he can’t articulate how exalted he feels to hear that. A father…him? It was more than he could have ever asked for, and, even better—John whispers out, “You’re going to be a mum.” 
You kiss him, multiple quick pecks that he returns through shared joyous chuckles.
“I didn’t want to tell you over the phone,” the confession meets the air as one of John’s hands travels to cup your flat abdomen, fingers flinching over the fabric of your shirt to sneak under. You laugh and shiver at his calluses, as his blue eyes are so soft they could be compared to butter. “And I couldn’t wait two months.”
“Christ, Love,” John lays a kiss on your forehead, needing to be as close to you as possible. You can feel his heart through his chest, and you know yours isn’t any better. This was far more than you could have hoped for. He mutters against your skin, “I’m so glad you didn’t. This is bloody amazing news—I want to be here for all of it.” 
Sea storms lock onto your face with a grunt, “You’re so lovely. Perfect, yeah?”
His warm hand still rests under your shirt, and you doubt it’s going to leave anytime soon.
You feel your cheeks heat and you smile bashfully, heart about to explode.
“You are.” John reiterates. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect, Sweetheart. I’m so happy.” 
The air is ripe with tenderness, a soft state of being that just keeps getting better. John had silent tears dripping down his face, blinking to clear them and not letting you leave his hold for a second. 
“Oh, John,” you whisper, digging your fingers into the back of his shirt, looking up. “Me too, Love.” 
While the glee is nearly physical enough to grab, there is a moment of hesitancy in the Brit. He was gone more times than not for work; put into situations that could leave him going through bodily harm. You didn’t deserve that stress—didn’t deserve to sit at home with a swelling stomach just watching the door and wondering if you’d have to become a single mother. You had a child in your womb. His child. Both of yours’ child. 
A family that you both had made.
John swallows and says to you seriously, without an ounce of hesitation in his blood, “I’m telling Laswell to pull me out,” you blink up and listen, letting him continue as his press on your flesh gets even more prominent, nodding to you, “I’m not missing this—not putting you through that worry. Two years, then I’ll head back in. We have enough saved, I give you my word you’ll want for nothing.” 
Blue eyes flicker down, and a small mumble so tiny it nearly disappears hits your ears. You almost start sobbing again. “This is more important. You both are more important.” 
There were few moments in your life that you think you’ll remember when you are old, weathered and wrinkled, but this you tell yourself is one that you will carry to your grave. John and yours’ grave. 
What remains behind, you ask? Simple.
White bones entangled with an eternity of deathless worship, and the generations that will come to lay flowers on the headstone.
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TAGS:
@blueoorchid, @jxvipike, @revrse, @shuttlelauncher81, @bruhhvv, @kittiowolf210, @aerangi, @spikespiegell, @ghost-with-a-teacup, @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore, @uberraschungg, @neelehksttr, @shoe1412,@jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet​, @pukbadger, @omeganixtra, @nanialis, @gills-lounge, @voidinfernal, @sukunas-left-nut-sack, @untoldshortsofthefandoms, @batmanunicorns523, @icepancakes, @copiasratscheese, @besas-stuff, @marytvirgin, @misfne, @halfmoth-halfman, @lothiriel9, @anna-banana27, @jade-jax, @cl0wncxre, @emerald-valkyrie, @michirulol, @330bpm-whiplash, @lora21, @bespectacledhuman, @wolfyland07, @dilfsaremyfavourite, @astronaunt2009, @shmaptin, @levietc, @kk19pls, @semieitabby, @thriving-n-jiving, @cringe-kats, @n1choles, @gaychaosgremlin, @johnpricesprincess, @haleypearce,
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formulafics · 6 months
Text
★ BABY, JUST SAY YES | LS2
Scenario: its no secret that logan sargent isn’t single, but one thing that no one can quite figure out - not even his co workers - is who the mystery girl is. logan doesn’t reveal who until she’s no longer his girlfriend, but his wife. (requested)
Pairing: logan sargeant x fem!popstar!reader
A/N: it’s taken me 4 days of writers block to get this one figured out, but she is finally here! i hope everyone enjoys! <3
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logansargeant
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liked by alex_albon, oscarpiastri, and 233,567 others
logansargeant the flight is always worth it to be with her
view all 2,345 comments
sargeantformula another day, another soft launch from logan 😔 when does the pain end?
logansgirl HE LOOKS SO GOOD
formulogan so either logan plays guitar or his gf plays guitar 🧐
⤷ norizzlando i thought that i could figure out something by looking at the music sheets but it’s beatles songs, and i doubt logan is dating paul mccartney
⤷ alexalbonooo23 STOP IT FHIS COMMENT IS KILLING ME 😭 “i doubt logan is dating paul mccartney”
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logansargeant
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liked by oscarpiastri, alex_albon, maxverstappen1, and 356,789 others
logansargeant summer dump
view all 3,457 comments
alex_albon getting a little to close to using @/georgerussels tactics
rizzciardo logan pls just tell us who it is 😔 do it for your fans
⤷ norrisnation DO IT FOR AMERICA
formulaobssesed why is logan kinda…
⤷ sargeantformula YOURE JUST LEARNING THIS? HES BEEN FINE
sargeantnation THE FIRST PICTURE HELLO YOU LOOK SO GOOD
ls2sargeant okay, but WHO is in the second picture? 😭
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logansargeant
in love
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liked by alex_albon, lilymhe, oscarpiastri, and 124,678 others
logansargeant
view all 2,467 comments
formulanorris the location being “in love” is sickening
⤷ piastrizz no literally i want want what him and his gf have
williamillion ITS NOT FUNNY ANYMORE LOGAN
godblessls2 boy if you don’t just drop her @ rn
loscargirlie logan you wanna drop her @ sooooo bad rn
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logansargeant and ynlnsargeant
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liked by alex_albon, oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 467,892 others
logansargeant so glad my baby said yes. happy one year, my beautiful girl.
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ynsworld LOGAN IN RHE MIDDLE OF YNA FUCK I G CONCERT???
oscarpiastri happy anniversary ❤️
⤷ rizzciardo loscar crumbs 🥹 i love them
alex_albon happy anniversary! love you guys.
formulasargeant LOGAN WHAT????
piastrizz LOGAN HUNTER SARGEANT I SWEAR TO GOD
ynfannacc the caption. not okay, young man.
⤷ godblessls2 LMAOO THIS COMMENT IS SO FUNNY FOR NO REASON
rizzciardo the mesh of logan and yn fans in the comments is so funny to me 😭
loscargirlie I KNOW I BEGGED YOU MULTIPLE TIMES TO DROP THE @ BUT COME ON LOGAN
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ynlnsargeant
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liked by logansargeant, lewishamilton, alex_albon, landonorris, and 789,367 others
ynlnsargeant what a night. thank you to everyone who came out tonight, i am so grateful for your support. on a side note, happy anniversary to my love, @/logansargeant. one year down, forever to go. 🫶🏻
view all 6,789 comments
logansargeant i love you so much baby.
⤷ ynlnsargeant i love you more. thanks for coming out tonight ❤️
ynsguitar the end of an era - she changed her username
⤷ ynloverforlife ITS SO CUTE 😭 she and logan are actually so cute together i can’t even be sad
ynsworld simultaneously extremely happy for you and feeling like my heart has been ripped out. ilysm </3
ynsnumberone i cannot believe i witnessed this kiss in real time
⤷ formulasargeant i have no idea how you survived because me personally? that would be the end
danielricciardo NO WAY. happy anniversary!
⤷ rizzciardo DANIEL WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE LMAO
⤷ sargeantformula apparently only oscar, lando, and alex knew about their relationship. oscar was the only one who went to the wedding 💔 (not to mention daniel has always liked yn’s music)
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all feedback is appreciated! thank you for reading <3 - daelynn
general taglist | @renarots (special shoutout to her for always fueling the brainrot for these fics) @jsjcue @treehouse-mouse @harrysdimple05 @illicitverstappen @lovstappen @minkyungseokie
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godsandmonsters505 · 1 year
Text
Roll Like Thunder | Negan Smith
dbf!Negan Smith (The Walking Dead) x younger fem!reader
(AU where the apocalypse never happened)
Summary: Negan is your dad's best friend and the two of you settle some tension while on your family vacation.
Warnings (18+): age gap (reader is college age, maybe 20-ish, and Negan's age is not specified but I'm feeling early 50s), smut (fem receiving oral, unprotected p in v), possibility of getting caught, edging
Notes: this actually kinda turned out sweet in a way I think, which is surprising because that's not often an outcome when I write for Negan lmao. not proofread yet because I just wanted to get it out to you all asap, but will edit if needed when I get the chance. hope you enjoy!! (also the intro is kinda long oops)
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Grabbing your glass of wine you take another much needed swig, cringing at your dad and uncle. They always find some way to turn every conversation into a political argument while the rest of your family eat their meals and exchange knowing glances
Family holidays were always like this. The one time a year when everyone was together: your parents, aunt, uncle and cousins. Only this year, there was a new addition.
Negan had grown up being a close friends with both your father and uncle and they are still best friends to this day. He recently went through a messy divorce and this is his first Christmas without his wife in a long time. Your dad never was good with showing kindness or friendship, but your uncle had convinced him it would be a good idea to invite him to his cabin for your annual Christmas getaway.
And that's how you got here.
You'd always had a little bit of a crush on Negan, for as long as you could remember. Though you never saw much of him as a kid. It wasn't until you got older - old enough to be able to drink in front of your parents - that you got to spend more time with him. Drinking was a big part of their social life, so once you could join in, you got to know him better. You got on well with your parents so you'd have barbeques with them and their friends, join in with conversations in the kitchen when they'd have people over, go out to dinner. But then you went off to college and started spending less and less time with them. So now it's Christmas time, you're happy to be able to spend time with your family. And Negan, more than you'd care to admit.
"Okay fellas," your mom chimes in. "Enough of that."
Negan makes eye contact with you from across the other side of the table and you smirk at each other. You're both all too familiar with watching this from an outside perspective.
"The food's delicious, Negan," she adds, turning to Negan, who had cooked this meal for you all. Sort of as a thank you for letting him tag along. For the first few days in the cabin he felt a little out of place, like he was intruding on your family's time together. But eventually he began to find himself settling. You were lucky to have a very fun, non-judgmental family so everyone was happy to have him there.
You nodded in agreement with your mother's statement. "I'd have more if there was any left." You motion to your empty plate.
"I'm glad it's got your approval, ladies," he grins.
The meal comes to an end and alcohol starts flowing. Your cousins are all younger than you so they head off to their bedrooms to do whatever it is kids their age do.
"I'd better get these dishes cleaned," Negan declares, standing up from his seat.
"No," you say, protesting. "You cooked. I'll clean."
"It's fine, you don't have to," he says kindly.
"I want to," you smile. "Really I'm happy to."
"We'll do them together?" He suggests, coming to a compromise and you nod in agreement.
"You raised a stubborn one," he mumbles teasingly to your dad, patting his shoulder as he walks past him.
"She gets that from me," your mom chirps as the two of you pick the plates up from the table and carry them into the kitchen.
Putting the plates on the kitchen top, you head to the fridge and look inside.
"Beer?" you ask, peeking around the door to look at Negan's response. Though you already have two cans in your hand, knowing he won't turn down the offer.
He nods. "Can't do anything without a drink in hand in this family, huh?"
You close the fridge door and pass him his beer, cracking open his own.
"You should be more than aware of that," you tease. "I've heard what you and my dad used to get up to."
"I'm sure you've not even heard the most of it," he teases back.
You laugh softly under your breath at his response.
"I'll wash, you dry?" You suggest as the sink begins to fill with soapy water.
The two of you get the dishes done relatively quickly as Negan tells you a story from his college days. You have to keep yourself composed and remember who he is. Remember that these stories he's telling of him at your age took place before you were even born. A decade before, at least. But, every so often, as you pass him the plates to dry, your fingers touch his and such a small motion has you weak. You can't look him directly in the eyes as he stands so close to you. That signature grin of his spread across his face.
The two of your finish and you take a large swig of your beer, but it's no surprise that the flush of alcohol doesn't help your body heat. You can only hope and pray that your cheeks aren't beetroot red right now.
"I'm sure you've got plenty of stories, though, right?" He asks. "Being in college and all. And with your dad's genes...God."
A playful smile spreads on your face. "Sure. I'm absolutely not telling you though. My dad would have a heart attack."
"Ahh," he smiles back. "So this whole 'good girl' thing is just an act, then?"
Holy shit. Good girl? He has no clue what he is doing to you calling you things like that.
"I can be good when it suits me." You say, almost flirtatiously, and immediately kick yourself. Why the hell would you say something like that to him?
Your off-the-cuff reply has him grinning. He swipes his tongue over his teeth as he contemplates your words and you almost drop to your knees.
"Let's go see what political debate has become the talking point now," you say, changing the topic to hide your complete embarrassment. You leave the kitchen and head to the living room, Negan following.
Somehow, in the time it took you to wash the dishes, your mom and aunt have gone through a bottle and a half of wine, and they're sat on the floor with your dad and uncle playing some sort of drinking game.
You sit down on the couch and Negan sits next to you. Why? Why could he not just sit away from you? Give you some space to compose yourself? But the action is completely innocent. There is just less than a foot between the two of you, yet it still feels like he is on top of you. Like you're breathing the same air.
"What was I just saying?" Negan says, nudging your arm with his elbow. "Alcohol."
You shake your head in playful disagreement with your relatives' actions.
"Hey, mom," you say and her head whips around, as laughter escapes her lips. "Think you've had enough for tonight?"
"Oh, you're so boring," she waves her hand at you dismissively.
The four of them continue for about half an hour as you and Negan observe and laugh. The game finally comes to an end when your aunt and uncle discreetly head off to their bedroom for a reason you don't even want to think about. Your parents follow shortly after, your dad having to carry your drunk mom up the stairs.
You come back from the kitchen where you were getting another lager for you and Negan. As you do so, you look for the TV controller and find a blanket that was lying around. You sit down again next to Negan and look down at your phone to check the time.
"God, it's not even 10 o'clock yet." You laugh.
"Amateurs," he says sarcastically.
You pass him his beer which he thanks you for, then get under you blanket.
"Want some?" You ask, holding out some excess blanket towards him.
"Sure," he accepts, getting comfortable himself.
The whole situation you're in is completely innocent, but it dawns on you that you're currently alone with Negan, tucked under the same blanket. Given that fact, you make a conscious effort not to touch him at all and try to remain composed.
"Put a movie on?" You ask him, passing the TV remote to him.
He takes it from your hand, brushing his fingertips across yours.
You watch him carefully as he selects a film to put on, making sure not to get caught admiring him. He just looks so good. The salt and pepper sprinkled throughout his hair and beard. The tattoos that cover his arms. The way his white t-shirt hugs his body just right. You're brought out of your thoughts when he speaks.
"You seen Batman Returns?" He asks, looking down at you.
"Of course," you smile. "It's a classic."
"Feel like watching it again?"
You nod. You'll watch whatever he wants. Do whatever he wants.
"Absolutely," you answer. "I didn't peg you as a Batman kind of guy, to be honest."
"Like you say, it's a classic," he says. "Plus there's always Michelle Pfeiffer."
You laugh at him. "I feel you."
You polish off another beer as you watch the film. You try your best to pay attention, to keep your eyes open, but you grow increasingly tired. It must have only been fifteen minutes into the film when you finally drift off, reality slipping away.
When you wake up again, it takes a while to fully gain consciousness, You feel something under you head, under your arm, but you don't pay much attention to it.
You feel warm. Comfortable. You don't want to wake up, you could stay here forever. The smell of men's shampoo and cologne comforts you, a soft material under the touch of your hand.
All of a sudden reality dawns on you. You realise that your head is leaning on a shoulder. That your hand is draped across a torso. You shoot up, sitting upright and see Negan smiling at you softly through slightly hooded eyes.
"Oh God," you say, feeling incredibly humiliated. "I'm sorry." But he just chuckles.
You look over to the television and see a black screen.
"Did the movie finish?" You ask groggily and he nods. Fuck. You slept for the entire duration of the film and who knows how much of that time you spent laying on Negan's shoulder.
What you're only just realising now, though, is how close you're still sat to him. How even though you're sat up, Negan's shoulder is casually draped across the back of the sofa, dangerously close to your shoulder blades.
"Why didn't you just wake me up?" You ask, feeling flushed.
"You looked peaceful." He answers, honestly. "Didn't want to disrupt you."
"I'm sorry," you apologize again. "You should've woken me up."
"I didn't mind, sweetheart." He insists. "Honestly."
The pet name drives you utterly insane. As if this whole thing wasn't already enough. Your body feels so hot. What with the blanket, his body heat, your arousal.
"I will say though, you do talk quite a bit in your sleep," he smiles coyly and dread shoots through your entire body.
"Wh-what-" you can't even get a full sentence out. "What did I-"
A flash of a dream comes back to you in that moment. Oh God. Oh God, no. You can't remember the details, but you remember the feeling. Negan on top of you. His body weight on you. The ecstasy you felt. His hands on your body. His name slipping from your lips.
You had a sex dream about Negan while you were laying on his Goddamn shoulder. You're lost for words, but Negan is enjoying watching this play out. He bites his lip, trying to suppress his smug grin as he watches you realise the possibilities of what you might have said.
His arm slowly slips off the back of the sofa and creeps around to touch you, the movement making you flinch a little. What is he doing?
He takes his other hand and places two fingers just under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. The two of you make eye contact and you can't even contemplate what is happening - still a little groggy from your nap - before his lips are coming down gently on yours.
You kiss him back almost immediately. It's a surprising delicate and intimate kiss, and you daringly bring your hand up to his neck to pull him in deeper, but he pulls back.
You worry that he is having second thoughts, but the look in his eyes says the complete opposite. He just wants to get a good look at you before he tears you apart. You feel vulnerable under his hungry eyes but you love how it makes you feel.
The two of you take a moment to catch your breath before your lips join again, this time the kiss rougher. More passionate. His arms wrap around your back to pull your body snug to his and you intwine your fingers into his hair, tugging ever so slightly. His large hands snake further down and grab your hips, pulling you onto his lap. As you get comfortable you shift along his length and gasp, feeling that he is already hard.
"You were practically fucking dry humping me in your sleep," he chuckles. "You can't blame me."
"So that's why you didn't want to wake me up, then?" You're barely able to mumble, teasing him.
"Hmm, maybe." You can feel him smile into the kiss and it makes you want him more. Everything about him is so endearing. He just radiates this warmth, this aura, and it's radiating.
Even now, however, you're nervous to move things along. You know what you want but this is still so surreal, and it would be an understatement to say you feel a little intimidated in this moment. You have enough sexual experience, but this is Negan. This is different. So you're glad when he takes control and begins to lift up your top, pulling it over your head to expose your bra.
His mouth makes contact with the flesh of your chest, sucking and nipping while he reaches around to unhook your bra. He feels his cock twitch when he sees your bare breasts, taking a nipple into his mouth immediately as his warm hands roam and caress your back, travelling over your smooth skin.
As you start to subconsciously grind into his bulge, Negan continues to explore your breasts. You're looking for any kind of relief and you begin to find some as he presses up into you, but both of your pants are restricting you.
You feel yourself crumbling further and further as Negan's hands come around to aid him with his attention to your breasts, squeezing and practically groaning as he does so. The noise changes something inside you, and makes you realise that you need him stripped of his clothes right this second.
You grasp the bottom of his shirt and he briefly pulls away from you to allow you to move it, but the second you're done, his lips are back on your skin, leaving marks on your collarbone and neck. Next, you move onto the buckle of his belt but he swats your hand away.
Pulling back from the kiss, you look to him with wide eyes full of confusion. That look alone is nearly enough to cause him to fold and fuck you right then and there. But he has other plans.
"Be patient for me, honey," he says sweetly, and as badly as you want him, you trust him.
He pulls your body flush to his, so that your breasts are pressed entirely against the heat of his chest. Then he grips your lower back and stands up, holding you tightly.
"We can't do this here," he says, carrying you towards the stairs. You grind up against him playfully as he does so and he stops momentarily half way up the stairs, clearly affected by the action. In retaliation he gently swats your ass and you giggle at his response.
"Shh," he hushes, but he can't hide the grin that spreads across his face as you bury your face in his shoulder to muffle the sound.
Being as quiet as possible, he takes you into his bedroom which - awkwardly - is across the hall from your parents' room.
He puts you down on the bed, barely allowing himself to be away from you for a second, climbing on top of you hastily. He goes back to kissing you, the taste of him intoxicating. The way he kisses are gentle yet so hot and passionate at the same time, becoming increasingly sloppy as they shift from your lips to your jaw, neck, chest, abdomen, until you're a writhing mess beneath him.
Once he has kissed so far that he reaches the waist line of your trousers, he unbuttons them and pulls them all the way down. He throws them onto the floor, leaving you just in your lace black panties. He nudges your legs open and moves his kisses to your thigh. He's slowly breaking you and you're not sure how much more you can take. Painstakingly slow, he trails his tongue up your inner thigh until he reaches the edge of your panties.
Eventually he slips your panties off and you tremble as you feel the cool air of his room against your hot, aching core. He places his hands on your inner thighs to push them open further, mouth watering at the sight of you. The delicate touch of his fingers send shivers up your spine and you're in desperate need of more.
"Please, Negan," you say, barely a croak.
"Shh, let me take care of you," he soothes, his voice low and gravelly as he tries his best to stay quiet. "Wanted to taste this sweet pussy for so long."
As if to affirm his words, he lowers his head and licks a stripe straight through your folds, groaning as he feels how wet you are.
He then moves his mouth to make contact with your clit, your hips raising at the action. He starts off by sucking gently, leaving you aching for more as you reach down to grab his hair, not knowing what else to do. He chuckles as you do so and sends vibrations straight through your core. Unable to control yourself, a moan escapes you lips and he squeezes your thighs warningly, wordlessly telling you to be quiet.
He takes his time to precisely pull you apart, but then his motions begins to get harsher, faster. You feel that rising feeling in the pit of your stomach begin to spread after waiting for what feels like so long. He alternates between kissing, sucking, licking, nipping until you're desperate for more. Sensing this, he teases one finger at your entrance.
"Please," you whimper, legs trembling. He answers your pleading by pushing his single digit inside you in one long push, as deep as he can go, and keeping it there momentarily. As he continues to eat you out, he begins moving his finger, fucking you gently. When he adds a second finger you have to clasp your hand over your own mouth to stop yourself from calling out his name. Your legs wrap around his head, wanting to pull him closer to you in any way possible.
Closing your eyes, you feel that white hot feeling flooding through your veins, but right as you're about to reach your peak, he pulls his fingers out and his mouth away from you.
You let out a guttural sound, one of desperation which causes Negan to laugh under his breath.
"Negan, God, please," you whine, putting both your hands on his head and pushing him back down.
"So bossy," he mumbles with a smile on his face, but he obliges.
He doesn't use his fingers on you again, but it makes no difference. You're already pent up enough as it is that it won't take a lot to make you reach your peak. Plus, you don't doubt that Negan's skillful mouth is more than enough for you.
He circles his tongue around your clit, going back to sucking while using his free fingers to absentmindedly trace little patterns into your thighs. The only noises are your heavy pants and the wetness of his mouth against you, and it fills the otherwise deadly silent bedroom.
He's starting to become more familiar with your body and your reactions and he can tell you're getting close again. To which he stops and pulls away yet again.
"Negan," you almost cry. Tears prick in the corners of your eyes as you throb for him. "Please, I need to-"
"I got you baby," he assures you, stroking the flesh of your thighs comfortingly.
You can't bare it. You almost despise him for doing this to you, but you can't. It's all so surreal: having this man between your thighs. So often you have fantasized of it and though it's so wrong, it's now happening.
Before you can beg again, his lips make contact with you. This time he's a man on a mission. His tongue flicks against your clit as two of his fingers slip back inside you. You're so wet that it's an easy motion, but you still feel the tight, delicious stretch. He allows you to get used to it, building you up until he adds a third finger and you have to use all your power not to yell out his name. You try your hardest not to hurt Negan by squeezing your thighs too much or pulling his hair too hard, but he loves it. He loves driving you crazy, seeing you unwind for him. The noises you make. The taste of you.
Relentlessly, he penetrates you with his fingers, pushing and curling his fingers deep inside you, hitting a spot that eventually brings you your release. One last push, one last flick of his tongue and you're falling over the edge. You squeeze your eyes shut and you can't help the animalistic sound that leaves you as white flashes behind your eyelids. He continues eating you out through your orgasm and it hits you that you think you're doing something you never have before.
Once you manage to come around again, you let your legs relax and look down to Negan who looks up at you. He smiles smugly, your wetness remaining in his beard and it causes you to go weak in the knees.
"Did I just-?" Squirt, you want to say. But somehow it doesn't seem like the nicest word to describe what just happened between of the two.
He nods with a glimmer in his eyes as he makes his way up the bed, his body above yours.
"I've never-" you croak. "I've never done that before."
"You just needed a man, that's all," he gloats and you roll your eyes. "It was hot as fuck, for what it's worth."
He leans down and places a soft kiss on your lips. You can taste yourself on him.
You're still shaking a little, but you manage to pull back a little to look him in his eyes.
"Are we really doing this?" You ask, bordering on timid.
"Do you want to?" He counters.
"Yes," you say, quickly, not wanting him to think you're having doubts. Because there is absolutely no doubt in your mind that you want the man above him. Hell, you need him. But somehow you find yourself feeling a little insecure and needing reassurance. "Do you?"
"Darling," he laughs. "Not to be crude, but you just came all over my face. I want this more than you know."
You nod and smile, feeling more confident. "I'm sorry, I just-"
He interrupts your babbling with a long kiss to your lips, silencing you.
"You need to worry less," he says, bringing his hand to stroke your cheek sweetly.
"Make me." You propose flirtingly, smiling up at him.
"That I can do." His lips crash down on yours and his tongue intertwines with yours.
Reaching down to his pants you fumble with his zip, which he helps your shaky hands undo. He shifts both his pants and boxers down off his ankles, and though you can't see his length fully from this angle, you can feel its hardness press against your lower stomach and he feels big.
"You ready, baby?" He raises his brow at you as he grips his member and teases it through your folds.
"Yes, please Negan," you pant, even after having the best orgasm of your life, you still need more. "Need you inside me."
He groans as he slips inside of you and the way you practically beg for him drives him crazy.
"So fucking tight, holy shit," he mumbles into your ear, his head dropping down to bite and suck on the crook of your neck. "Oh, baby, fuck."
Hearing him say such obscene things affects you in an indescribable way. His voice has always been massively attractive to you, but now...you're done for. The deep rumble, smooth like honey, even lower in an attempt to remain quiet to your family in the surrounding bedrooms. It's like dark magic. It has you hooked. He could say the right thing to you with that voice and you'd cum right there and then.
His movements are slow, savoring the sensation of you around him. He wants to take his time with you. He never wants it to be over.
Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his back and lift your hips up wanting more from you. He maintains his pace, but does start pushing deeper inside you like you wanted.
"I've wanted you for so long," you say, not even in control of your words anymore. It's like he's fucking them right out of you. He moans into your neck at your admission and starts thrusting a little faster, as if in response to your statement.
"Do you know-" he stops speaking for a moment to breathe and compose himself, clearly enjoying this as much as you, "how often I get myself off thinking about you?" He punctuates his point with a particularly hard thrust and that - in combination with the idea of him masturbating to the thought of you - causes you to cry out. You thought he would shush you, but he seems too far gone at this point.
"A fucking pretty little thing like you," he says, his hands groping at your tits, his touch rougher than before, "it'd be hard not to."
"Oh god," you whimper. "Harder, please."
His movements get harsher gradually, following your command and getting you closer and closer every second.
He lifts his head up and the way he looks at you makes your insides collapse. To be the sole object of his attention. How he looks at you like you're all that ever mattered.
"I'm so close, Negan," you tell him.
"Taking me so fucking well, darling," he praises, reaching one hand down to lazily play with your clit. That's all it takes and he can feel it coming as you begin to squeeze around him. He takes your lips in a long, sensual kiss as you climax, trying to muffle your moans as he fucks you through your orgasm. Your hands are wrapped around his back, squeezing into his shoulders as you try your hardest to be quiet. Pure pleasure surges through your veins as he presses his entire body weight into you: suffocating in the most beautiful way possible.
Gradually, Negan's movements come to a halt and he stops moving inside you briefly, letting go of you come down from your high.
"You're gonna be the fucking death of me," he declares and before you can reply, he suddenly starts moving inside you again, faster than the last time, placing a quick peck on the tip of your nose as he does so.
He soon reaches a pace much faster than before and you're rendered speechless.
Your attention is grabbed, however, by the open and shut of a door somewhere. You gasp and your eyes widen at the sound. The possibilities of who it could be and if they'd heard you start to race through your mind but your thoughts are cut off when Negan clasps a hand firmly over your mouth to keep you quiet. He presses you further into the mattress as he fucks you even harder than before, enjoying tormenting you.
You listen closely to the footsteps. They're quite loud - that of a man - probably your dad or uncle. The pitter patter grows closer and your heard races, both from the fear of getting caught and from the sensation of Negan deep inside you. Hitting places you're sure no other man ever has or ever could. You relax a little as you hear the footsteps pass Negan's bedroom and head into the shared bathroom, the door closing afterwards.
Negan takes his hand off your mouth and you gasp for air.
"Oh my god, please don't stop," you beg as he sets a pace and sticks with it, snaking his slender fingers back down to your clit and circling it gently.
"I don't plan on," he chimes. "You're taking me so well."
You've never felt anything like this. Your entire body is numb and slick with sweat. All you can do is grab onto his hair and try your best to lift your hips to meet his thrusts.
To help you out, he grabs your body and switches positions slightly. He lifts himself up then clutches your thighs, lifting them onto his shoulders. Then his hands grip onto your hips and he has access to you in a way that allows him to go much deeper. You know you can't take much more. You're close to crying just from how much you want to scream his name.
Your eyes keep fluttering shut but you force them opening, wanting to keep them on the man doing this to you. His tousled hair, his flexed biceps, his tattooed chest.
"Harder, please," you whisper. "I'm nearly there."
Thrusting harder, he also adds his fingers back to your clit, rubbing harshly. It's almost painful on your sensitive nerves but it feels unreal and it's enough to build you up to near-ecstasy.
Your mouth hangs open but you refrain from making any noise. In one unexpected motion, he lands a slap to your clit and it sends your orgasm rushing.
"Good girl, that's it," he guides you through as your body starts to spasm.
He continually pounds into you and turns his head to the side to place soft kisses to your inner thigh, contrasting the way he now ruthlessly moves inside of you.
You contract around him as you cum and you can tell he is trying his hardest to hold on as he visibly hesitates, not knowing where to release.
"Cum inside me, Negan," you give permission. "Want it so bad."
Those words were all he needed as he spills inside you, the warm liquid filling you.
Gradually, his movements slow down as he fucks you through the both of your orgasms, fucking his cum deeper inside you, and then pulls out and collapses next to you.
You rest your head on his shoulder and to your surprise, he pulls you closer to him, placing a kiss to your forehead.
"Holy shit," you giggle, the whole situation setting in.
Negan's about to speak but his sentence stops forming when the bathroom door opens and closes again. You'd completely forgot about that.
The two of you exchange a glance as you wait for the footsteps to disappear down the hallway. Once they're gone, you relax back into his embrace.
Absentmindedly, you place your hand on Negan's warm chest, tracing the ink of his tattoos. Its surprisingly comforting having him this close, to be held by him. You're entranced by the smell of his cologne and the way his chest heaves up and down, catching his breath. He smiles as he watches you, equally as entranced by you. He can't quite believe that the daydreams he thought were exactly that - daydreams - have come to life.
"We'll have to do this again," he grins coyly, "some place where you can scream my name as loud as you need to." His hands run over your body, cupping your breasts as if to appreciate as much of you as possible.
"I'd like that," you smile back, snuggling into his arms. You know you can't stay here all night, but you'll appreciate it for as long as possible.
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d4ndylionn · 29 days
Text
Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder.
In which your all-time-favorite cannibal starts her day by insulting your attempt at a new look, your husband doesn’t take kindly to such insults.
Warnings - Body shaming, swearing, insecurities, Susan ugh Susan, Alastor in general, suggestive themes at the end
“You look absolutely fantastic, cher!” The Radio Demon loudly proclaimed, his trademark smile pulled wider than usual as he took in your form out of its usual wear.
“Stop, you. I’m only wearing this because it looked sad sitting in the closet.” Your reasoning was silly in his opinion, “Clothes have no expression!” He would’ve said but kept to himself to refrain from making you sad.
“Well, worry not, my dear!” Alastor began, taking your hand into his and pulling you towards him at a surprising speed. “Alastor!” You yelped as he twirled you in your new dress, closing his arms around you as soon as your back hit his chest.
“You’ll always look delectable in whatever you wear…”
His voice lowered as the static in his throat rumbled from behind you, making the hairs on your neck stand on end as you squeak and noticeably shiver. “My! Stop teasing!” You finally break away from his hold and slap his bicep, scolding your husband for his behavior while he only chuckled. “Alright, alright, cher, let’s go on an outing today. Rosie will absolutely adore your look once we visit Cannibal Town!”
“Oh my stars! Alastor! Sweetie! So nice to see you lot around here again!”
Once you and your husband stepped foot into Rosie’s Emporium and into the long lines of cannibals waiting to see their overlord, the said woman weaved through the crowd with a bright smile before gasping loudly at the sight of you,
“Oh honey! You look absolutely divine, you gorgeous, gorgeous girl!” Rosie quickly held both your shoulders and gave you a little twirl with how giddy she was about you. “Oh dear, we’re doing a lot of spinning today!” You muttered as the Cannibal Overlord settled you down on the ground while dusting your shoulder off with a pat. “I told you she’d love your look, cher.” Alastor chided in with a smug grin, leaning on his cane as he waited for Rosie to stop gushing over his beautiful wife. (He’d have to wait months before the smiley woman would ever stop). After an hour of conversing, Rosie had taken her leave to continue on with her work, leaving you two alone to stroll around outside the emporium.
“You look good, girl,” A voice as rough as sandpaper spoke from behind and down your gaze was the lady in blue that you know and hate love. “Thank you, miss Su-“
“For a waitress, that is!”
Well you were caught off guard and so was your husband, “A what now?” His eye twitched as he tilted his head, the hands that were gripping his microphone now dented it. “Your little wifey here looks like she could lose a few of those tubs workin’ at a diner! No husband would wanna stay with this.” Susan gestured to you, specifically your torso. So embarrassing, really, you were so humiliated that you unconsciously pulled at the fabric covering your stomach to at least let you gain a sense of non-exposure. It was all for naught when you felt Alastor’s hand snake around your waist, the fabric under his arm pinned to accentuate your hips.
“Maybe try and aim to be someone like me! A natural beauty! Unlike your sorry excuse of a-“
“I admire the concern, Susan!” Alastor’s ever-present smile felt as if he was baring his teeth at her instead, he pulled you closer to him in the process as he narrowed his eyes at the cannibal. “Certainly big talk for a woman with a big mirror for her equally big, sagging mass of skin she calls natural beauty!” With each venom he spat, he got closer to her face, the static in his voice becoming too loud for the rest of his insults to be heard, leaving Susan to just scoff and walk away from you and your husband. Even when he had the last word though, he still gave his last word, “We’re glad you had room for a conversation with us! I was worried that you wouldn’t be able to fit!”
“Slow down, Buck, the woman’s already leaving, let’s go home.” However amused you were, the lingering sense of humiliation gnawed at you, unnoticed by your husband who continued ranting about Susan. “Big talk! Haha! I was on a roll there, cher!” A laughing track played from his cane and when he received a hum in response was when he noticed your soured mood.
Night had fallen in Hell and the two of you spent it inside your shared hotel room, the gentle breeze of the bayou that took up his room did little to cool the burning sensations in your body. “Alastor, please, I-“ “No way in Hell are you listening to that ornery old bitch, dear.” The Radio Demon trailed his claws along your stomach before he gripped your hips tight, “Your body was made to be worshipped, not insulted.” he led his hands up to rest one hand on your neck and the other intertwining with yours. “Praised by me alone.”
Your throat constricted in the way you knew well enough and as his hand left your throat, a ghostly-green chain was left in his wake.
“I alone own you, body and soul.”
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haruchuiyo · 2 months
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la vie en rose
Tumblr media
longing touches and lasting feelings. maybe your feelings for your husband really are reciprocated.
content: NOT SFW + MINORS DNI! + fem!reader + established marriage + implied arranged marriage + reader wears a nightgown + little miscommunication + pining + n!pple stimulation + oral (f!receiving) + handj0b + no protecting we going raw! + neuvillette is so dreamy
word count: 4.7k+
paragraphs in italic is what happened before present time
One could say Neuvillette is a blunt man, a harsh one considering his job or a man of few words. But they’d never figure out just how torn apart that said man is over the woman, he’s watching, his lovely and dear wife, smiling as she is talking to her friends.
Or the way his touch seems to linger when he touches your hand, or the small of your back. Or the way his ears redden in colour when you flash him your pretty smile, which he thinks about every minute of the day. Or the way you’re the first thing he thinks about when waking up and the last when going to sleep. Or the way he needs to be close to you at all times. But he still can’t figure out how to show all that to you.
Little does he know about the longing glances you give him, the urges to take his hand in yours and just be with him. To tell him of your day, to tell him how proud you are of him as the Ludex of Fontaine. How much you wish to tell him what you feel for him. Or the way your heart flutters when he simply just looks at you or the way he always holds you to his side in crowd gatherings.
Just how frustrating it was for you two.
You were standing in front of the mirror, trying your best to unlace your gown by yourself since you and your husband Neuvillette sent home the staff for today. Lightly groaning to yourself, you give up and was about to ask Neuvillette for his help but stopped in your tracks. Would he find this okay? Unlacing someone’s gown feels intimate to you. Even if he’s your husband, your marriage has never been consummated because your union as husband and wife was arranged.
You turned to face the door when said man you were thinking about is at the entrance. You must have forgotten to close the door in a haste of wanting to get rid of your gown.
“Sorry, I must have frightened you but I heard some discontent noises as I was passing by. Is everything alright?” He asks as he stands there politely, his hands by his sides as he’s watching you. He looks good in his clothes and you’re fiddling with your hands not knowing what to say but shy to ask him to help you unlace your dress.
“Everything is…quite alright.” You let out an embarrassed chuckle before lightly biting down on your lower lip, missing the way Neuvillette’s eyes fluttered down to your mouth. He’d be damned if you could read into his thoughts, seeing just how much he wishes to take your lips in a kiss.
“Good, I’m glad everything’s alright. Then I shall go and take a rest for tonight.” His voice was polite and your heart is racing. You’re beating yourself up as you see him back away and was about to walk away before you called for him, by his name. He takes steps into your bedroom and reaches closer to you. At your husbands taller figure, you imagine how much you need to stand on your toes to be able to give him a proper kiss on the lips. Or he could lean his head down to meet you halfway. Heart racing at the thought, not helping with your current situation.
You hold your hands together in nervousness. And flustered too, this man is making your heart feel like it’s gonna beat out of its place.
So you turn around and you see your reflection in the mirror. He is so close behind your back and you see how his hands fidget by his side.
“Will you help me with the lace?” You softly ask as you feel his breath hitch. You turn your face to your side to look at him over your shoulder and he slightly nods his head. “Of course, anything.” He answers.
“It’s quite difficult for me to do it alone.” You let out a slight nervous chuckle. And you hear him chuckle from behind you too. And when you feel his hands on the back of your dress, your own breath hitches. And your heart beats and beats the more you feel him untangle the laces at your dress. And when you feel it’s loose, the dress falls down on the floor in a circle around you, leaving you only in your chemise. And you feel how hot Neuvillette feels behind you. So much warmth and heat, you let out a soft gasp when you feel his finger touch your bare back.
At your gasp, he removes his hand in a haste and you groaned to yourself internally for giving such a reaction.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have touched you like that.” He apologized profusely, clearly feeling regretful and you just wanted to yell at him to touch you more and that you don’t mind it. But how brave were you really?
“It’s quite alright.” You shortly say and Neuvillette nodded his head. “Is there more you need help with?” He asks and you shake your head. “No, I be fine but thank you.” At your words, he nods again then leaves your bedroom, leaving you alone in a space he so rightfully has a place in.
Neuvillette thinks of the first time he met you. It was the day you two were to meet each other for the first time after deciding you two were to be married.
He was taking a stroll in the mansion when he stumbled upon you, laying on the floor while gazing up at the ceiling. You looked peaceful and Neuvillette found himself wondering what you must be thinking of gazing at that ceiling. He looks up at it as well, seeing the ceiling in intricate ancient designs, the pattern flowering around each other nicely.
He don’t know what took over him, but he took one step that was a bit too loud which startled you. Upon seeing him witnessing you laying on the bare floor, you hastily sat up, your hair a mess and your eyes widened in shock with your dress puffed up around you.
“Mr Neuvillette, I didn’t see you there.” You mutter out an apology after and Neuvillette shakes his head. “Just…just Neuvillette is fine. And it’s quite alright, I should be the one apologizing for disturbing your peaceful time.” He retorts back and you look down on your intertwined fingers, giggling. Neuvillette felt his heart flutter that moment he saw you smile as you giggled.
“May I ask why you’ve taken a spot on the floor?” He asks and you look up at him, surprised.
“If you joined me, you’d see why I’ve done so.” You smile at him and it was Neuvillette’s turn to be surprised. And he gives a nod.
He laid himself on the floor quite politely, patting out his clothes so they don’t tug as he lays down, his head hit the floor gently.
“It’s cold.” He says simply, hearing you chuckle.
He feels how cool the floor is, the weather outside was sunny and warm, making him feel stuffy. And to combine that with his nervousness of meeting his future wife, it didn’t help with the heat.
“And it’s quite nice, isn’t it?” He hears you ask, he turns his head to face you. Your eyes were closed and there was a soft smile on your mouth. You looked serene.
“Indeed, it is.” He mumbles out softly, still watching you.
To think about that day, he realized he’s fallen for you since and doesn’t plan to get up. You’ve had his heart since the first moment he met you, seeing you on the floor gazing up at the ceiling.
And here he is, in your bedroom after you’ve called him in. You’re standing there, awaiting an answer. An answer for your question.
“Do you have feelings for me?” You had asked before he went down the memory lane. You were gripping onto your robe, still in your night clothes. All Neuvillette could think about was why you would ask that of him. And what kind of question is that.
“I don’t know what you mean by that.” He answers, further adding onto your frustration. You let out a soft groan, your eyes wavering as you speak to him.
“I’m asking if you, my husband, have feeling for me. Your wife, Neuvillette. You avoid me like the plague as soon as you’re close to me.” There’s frustration laced in your voice. Neuvillette feels confused, his mind, usually collected is now splattered.
“I’m not avoiding you.” He says. His short answers doesn’t help with your frustration and you could almost feel anger surging up inside you. He usually talks like this, why are you so angry? Maybe because he’s being so short with you when all you want is a proper talk.
“Then explain the way you avoid my touches. How you avoid me as soon as we get close. How you avoid doing things together, alone. How you seem to be at work far more, even been there for days at a week than at home than—.” You explain to him, words spitting out and Neuvillette feels frustrated now as well.
“With you.” He adds onto your last sentence. You nod. “Yes, with me.” Your voice wavered and he feels his heart constrict. He never wanted to make you feel alone. He only did what he thought and thus acted upon it.
“I thought you didn’t want me there.” He tells you and your eyes widen at his words. “You’ve seemed almost unresponsive to my advances and I believed you didn’t like it, so I put a distance.” He explained. He feels sad and frustrated. The amount of times he wanted to hold you, to hold your hands or your body to his. To able to gently hold your face in his hands and kiss you breathlessly.
“Is the only reason you’ve avoided me?” You ask softly.
“No.” He says.
“Then why would you think that?”
“Because your presence makes me feel things.”
At that, you felt the world stop. Make him feel things? Your heart decides to flutter at that moment. About to speak up, your husband beats you to it.
“Lay down on the floor with me, will you?” He asks gently as he lays down on the floor, reaching a hand out to you. You throat dries up as you nod your head and take his hand in yours and lay down beside him on the floor.
“The first time I saw you, you were doing this. Laying on the floor, gazing at the ceiling like it was a work of art, admiring each and every detail and looking at it like how no one ever does.” His voice was soft, as he tells you of the day you two first met. You remember that day clearly. He startled you with the way he stepped so loudly and when he joined you on that cold floor on that sunny day, you’d thought maybe your marriage with him wouldn’t be so bad.
“You’ve had my heart ever since that warm sunny day, my love.” He turns to face you, taking your intertwined hands and placed it on the spot his heart is. “You’ve taken my heart like a storm, making me fall for you every day since. And I tell you, I don’t decide to let these feelings fade.” At his words, your heart constricts and your vision feels almost blurry. You see him reach out his free hand to wipe away your tears. Tears. You’re crying.
“I’m sorry to leave you alone, to make you feel alone because you were not. Even if I wasn’t with you physically, you always had my heart with you. But it doesn’t justify how I left my lovely wife wondering if I love her. Because I do.” He smiles, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs and you let out a soft chuckle, happiness streaming all over in your body.
“I’m sorry, my love. I truly am.” You shake your head at his words. “Don’t be, you have quite made up for it right now.” You tell him with a small grin and Neuvillette smiles at you.
“And I havent been so good to you either, always gasping and flinching as soon as you touch me. And it’s all because you make me feel things as well. And things only you can —“ You have no idea what made you look into his eyes, but when you did and what you saw, you felt shivers running down your spine as heat surged up inside you.
“—fulfill.” you finish with a stuttering voice.
He leans his face in closer to yours, rubbing his nose against your own. Your heart beats faster and your stomach a fluttering mess. When he lightly grazes his lips on yours, seeing how you didn’t back away, he presses his mouth against yours taking you in for a kiss.
His mouth was soft, lips moving leisurely against your own. You can’t believe you missed out on this all these months since the wedding day. A first proper kiss with your husband. A breathless one. When he tilts your head upwards for better access, you moan into the kiss and you feel him move his body closer to yours, pressing his front against your own. And he pulls away, leaving you both lightly panting.
“Do you wanna take this to bed?” You shyly mumble. You see his cheeks lightly redden in color before he nods, leaving you a hot mess.
Laying down on the bed, resting your back against stacks of pillow, Neuvillette was inbetween your thighs. You see him gulping on air as his eyes flicker all over of you. You had taken off your robe, leaving you only in your white nightgown. You looked breathtaking in the nightgown, the gown hugging your body so perfectly. You reach your hand out, to hold onto his and tugging on towards you. He moves closer to you, you shudder feeling his warmth, looking up at him, nervous but excited.
Neuvillette felt his heart beat so fast when his chest pressed against yours but he felt relieved when your arms circled around his neck, your breast snuggled against his chest and he kisses you again.
Both of you moaning into the kiss, you felt your husband move his hands up and down your sides, holding your waist before groping onto the flesh the more your kiss deepened. Neuvillette wasn’t sure what it was that made him act upon it, but he believes it was an instinct to move his body against yours, rubbing his throbbing erection against your heat.
Trembling against him, moans slips past your mouth when you felt him rub up against you while he slid his tongue deep into your throat, the kiss sticky and loud but so good. He nips on your lower lip, kisses the corner of your mouth before placing one another kiss on your lips again before pulling away. You lightly groan, missing his kisses then you see how he’s trailing his hands up to the straps of your dress, his gentle touches making you shudder in anticipation and then he pulls them down your shoulders. The upper half of your nightgown slips down your body and you look at Neuvillette to see his reaction. He’s enamoured with the sight in front of him.
He brushes his fingers lightly over your perky buds, his eyes glancing at your face when you gasp softly at his air light touch on your tits. Then he rubs his thumb over your nipples before reaching his face down to take a bud into his mouth. Your back arches at the feeling of his tongue licking and flickering your nipple with the tip of his tongue, while his hand plays with your other nipple. Your hands go to grasp onto his blue horns and when he sucks on your nipple, you lightly pull on his Neuvillette’s hair, tilting his head back making him groan against your tit. Then he gives the same attention to your other one, sensations running all over your body with the way he works his tongue on your tits. Before he pulls away, he kisses the mound softly, nipping before lightly biting down on the skin, leaving a mark. He looks at the bite mark he left and feels proud of himself.
You tug on his nightshirt, telling him to take it off. Obeying your demands, your husband takes his nightshirt off and you see his blue dragon tattoos on his arms up to his shoulders, the pattern swirly but so beautiful.
“So pretty.” You mumble softly as you touch the pattern before looking up at him. His eyes glistens and his face seems to flush in colour. He takes his breeches off, leaving him in his undergarments only. Your eyes flicker down to the clear erection on his undergarments and your body flushes in heat.
You sigh in content when you feel Neuvillette touch the edge of your nightgown before holding onto your thighs, making you slide on the bed and be pulled towards him. You giggle at the action then see how your husband has a serious face on. You reach a hand out to touch his face, he nuzzles his face into your palm like it was a reflex and kisses the inside of your palm before looking at you.
“What is it?” You ask gently while stroking his cheek. He lightly shakes his head then gives up and starts sighing. You get confused at his reaction before his words both surprises you but also makes you flustered.
“We haven’t consummated our marriage.” He says and you gulp on nothing as you nod in agreement. At his words alone and the way he turns quiet when you nodded, you get what he’s trying to say. If you want to consummate it now. Asking for your consent about it. Your heart flutters at his caring gesture and you cup his face with both your hands and pull him down towards you.
“I have wanted you since we met, dear husband.” You softly say against his mouth and Neuvillette’s eyes widens in surprise. “Really?” He asks and you giggle, pulling away while giving him an expression of ‘you’re so silly’.
“Of course silly, I wore a cute nightgown on our wedding night but you didn’t see it.” You tell him softly and he lightly pouts. “Can you show it to me next time?” He asks and you giggle again, kissing the tip of his nose before nodding.
“Next time.” You confirm and he smiles at you before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. Then kisses the spot there before trailing kisses down your throat to your cleavage. He pushes the nightgown down along the way as he kisses. He takes it off when he reaches your navel, you lift your legs up so the dress is off you properly. And now you’re bare in front of him and he can’t stop looking and touching.
His fingers trail along your body shape, he lightly squeezes your tits feeling the weight in his hands, muttering so many ‘beautiful’ as he explores your body. All you could do was take in the good feelings his touches gave you and how good it felt hearing his praises.
You pull on his undergarments before tugging them down his thighs and he takes them off properly before seating himself in between your thighs again. His cock sat prettily against his lower abdomen, there was a slight precum on the tip. Before you could stare at it further, Neuvillette kisses you on the mouth then presses more kisses down your entire front to your cunt.
“May i?” He asks, his hot breath fanning over your bare cunt. “Yes.” You breathe out before your toes curl onto the sheets when he take a tentative lick over your pussy before flicking his tongue over your clit. The sensations too much, you push the heels of your feet into his back as you grip onto his hair. His licking is ravening. If you just try to squeeze your thighs in on his face, he pulls them further apart not letting you move your limbs at all.
He rocks his bare erection against the sheet, moaning at the way you taste in his mouth and how you so tightly grip on his hair. Then he pulls a single finger in and hears you gasp from above him. When he slides in another finger, he feels your thighs shudder while you let out sweet noises and moans after another, his favorite sounds in the world. He keeps thrusting his fingers inside you as he sucks and licks on your clit before sending you over the edge.
You came so hard all you could do was stare up at the ceiling panting. You missed out on all this all these months of not touching your husband? You internally beat yourself before looking down, seeing Neuvillette still inbetween your thighs, softly kissing the inside of it and giving your cunt one last kiss before he moves up and connects his chest with yours. You see his chin is wet with your cum and the way he licks his lips before he takes your lips in a kiss, making you taste yourself on his tongue. He pulls away with panting and moans while leaning his head against your shoulder when he feels you take his cock in your hands and move your hand up and down it.
“Darling, if you keep that up I might not be able to contain myself anymore.” His words are strained as he moans against your neck while gripping onto your waist. He lightly thrusts into your hand, feels you rub the tip and he groans and comes with a bite on your skin. Spurts of cum lands on your stomach as Neuvillette breathes hard. When he sees his cum on your body, he is finding his virility outstanding. But when he sees you lightly spread his cum on your abdomen to your cunt, his breath hitches and he looks at your face. You’re biting on your lower lip with an expression of you clearly know what you’re doing and how it’s affecting him.
So he takes your mouth in a messy kiss and you squeeze your thighs around his waist and he rubs his cock against your bare cunt. You moan against his lips when you feel him brush up against your clit and you swear you felt the tip almost slip inside. You whimper against his mouth before he pulls away. He holds his weight on one arm as the other holds onto his cock and he looks at you, you nod your head and he takes that as consent to slide inside your heat.
Slowly by slowly, he fills you up. Every second of that has you gripping onto his shoulders, digging your nails into his shoulder blades until he is fully inside you. Neuvillette lets out a deep breath and looks at you.
“Have you ever touched yourself?” His voice is soft and curious, his touches gentle on your skin as he waits for your answer. Your body flushes at his question. “At the thought of you?” You ask quietly. There was a small silence before you see a slight nod from his head. “Yes.” Your answer was simple yet you felt so flustered. You let out a slight gasp when you feel how his cock inside you, feels like it’s growing bigger. “Oh-“ you didn’t manage to say anything when you feel how Neuvillette is softly pressing down on your abdomen.
Feeling him grow bigger inside you has you feeling a lot at once and your honest answer to his question adds onto the streams of pleasure in your body. You cover your face feeling flustered and shy, he gently uncovers your face, planting a deep kiss on your lips, you moan when you feel him twitch inside you.
“Don’t ever cover yourself around me.” He says against your skin, nipping softly at your sensitive spots before he slowly thrusts inside making you moan while holding onto his tighter. Your hands trail up to grip onto his hair as he continues to thrust into you, his cock hitting sweetly inside you.
He grabs onto your arms and pins them against the bed, his knees pressing into the mattress as he continues to thrust deeper and deeper inside you, hitting places you’d never think off to do yourself.
He reaches down by your ears murmuring sweet praises of ‘such a good wife’, ‘you feel so good’ and ‘taking me so well’. When he mutters “I’ve been dreaming about this every night.” You claw onto his back, stimulations running up and down your body at his words as he holds onto both of your arms with one hand, while his other goes to knead onto your tits, loving the feeling of their weight in his hands.
You arch your back when you feel him take a nipple in his mouth, kissing the bud and you squeeze your thighs tighter around his waist at the way he’s having you. Then he pulls away to kiss you, the kiss so messy and of fervour. You feel Neuvillette all around you. So big and so safe while he’s driving you crazy with the way he’s moving his hips against you, so in control of his body and the way he’s kissing you like a man starved.
You just take it all in, kissing equally as fervently back and snap your thighs around his slender waist tighter as he pounds into your cunt harder and harder. You feel him reach a hand down to rub on your clit and you moan against his mouth, feeling this knot in your abdomen about to release the more he rubs onto your clit and fucks into your harder until the knot releases and you cum hard. You cry out a moan, gripping onto his hair as you come and Neuvillette joins you shortly after, groaning against your lips with his eyes shut close in ecstasy and holds your hips with both of his hands and cums into you. He fills you up to the brim with his cum while gripping onto your hips.
Then you feel him panting against you, his warm breath on your face and you see him open his eyes and he looks all over you with a blush on his face, sweat visible on his forehead and his hair messy from your constant grasps on it. He tucks your hair behind your ear as he smiles you before you let out a breathy giggle and he finds you so endearing.
“What is so funny, my love?” He brushes his nose against yours, trailing the tip of his nose down your face to your jaw while still inside you. You hum in content before lightly chuckling.
“Was thinking that I missed out on this for so long, could’ve solved our little miscommunication so easily.” You grin at him and Neuvillette stills in surprise before his face looks like they’re filled with amusement.
“Or I should’ve done this the day we got married.” He tells you and you pretend to ponder playfully while humming. “Yeah you should have.” You nod your head and Neuvillette chuckles as you grin at him. He holds your face softly as he runs his thumbs over your cheeks, looking at you fondly and with so much love. Your heart flutters and you wrap your arms around his upper body, hugging him to yourself.
“I love you, and I will tell and show you that everyday.” He presses a kiss on your lips. “For the rest of my life.” He kisses you again and you giggle.
“And I shall love you for the rest of my life as well.” You tell him and Neuvillette smiles at you before turning you two around so you were atop him. As he did that, you felt him move inside you. You lightly whine in pleasure and you felt him swell up and twitch inside you. You widen your eyes and when you feel reach his hands down your butt, you lightly yelp resulting in you squeezing around him. Neuvillette lets out a soft groan before he looks at you, his eyes wandering from your face, lips to your tits down to the bite mark he left before his fluttered up yours, a slight gasp leaves your mouths when you feel move your hips, him still lodged inside you.
“Oh, you bewitch me, my lovely wife.”
this was a long piece of just going raw damn-
hope you enjoyed this! if you’ve come this far, a reblog and like would be incredibly appreciated<3
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fluentmoviequoter · 3 months
Text
Not So Grumpy
Requested Here!
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!pregnant!reader
Summary: Tim is grumpier than usual, and when you decide to visit him at the station, the rookies get an idea of why.
Warnings: pregnant reader. fluff!
Word Count: 1.8k+ words
A/N: Softie Tim? Softie (and clingy) Tim. This takes place sometime during seasons 1-2.
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“Don’t start,” Tim says, sitting beside Angela.
“Whoa, okay,” she replies with a laugh. “Glad to see you’re in such a good mood.”
“That sounds like starting.”
Angela puts her hands up, smiling as she turns away from Tim. “Chen, good luck.”
Tim rolls his eyes, wishing his mornings could go differently. It’s been several weeks of his persistent bad mood, and everyone who has to deal with him is curious about what’s causing it.
“Bradford, can I- could I maybe get you something?” Lucy offers softly.
“No.”
✯✯✯✯✯
You wake up curled against Tim’s side, his arm extended over your waist. His alarm is going off, and he’s smacking the nightstand beside him in a poor attempt to turn it off.
“You have to go to work,” you remind him, kissing his cheek as you move farther up in the bed.
“I’m good,” he replies, sighing as he finds his phone and turns the sound off. “Right here.”
He rolls closer to you, his hand sweeping over your stomach as he looks into your eyes. Tim can be persuasive, but you’ve gotten used to this routine over the last few weeks.
“I’d love for you to stay, I really would, but I don’t think your boss would appreciate it,” you say.
Tim groans, pressing his face against your neck as his arm tightens around you.
“You got clingy,” you tease, running your fingers through his hair and gently scratching his scalp.
“And you won’t let me stay,” Tim mumbles.
“It’s not my fault you wanted to be a cop.”
“You would-“ Tim pauses, sitting up so you can hear him. “You would deprive me of staying at your side during a time like this?”
Chuckling at his dramatics, you push your hand against Tim’s shoulder in a pointless attempt to move him away from you.
“Tim, baby, you see me all the time.”
“Not enough. I’m going to come home one day, and there will be a toddler running around, but I won’t remember any of this.”
You close your eyes and lean back against your pillow. “You have to go to work today so you can come to the doctor with me on Friday, right? Just think about that.”
“I can’t. I can only think of you.”
“You start a family and suddenly you’re the most romantic, clingy guy in the world. Where’d the grump go?”
Tim doesn’t reply as he tries to pull you closer. Rolling away from him, you leave him no choice but to get up and go to work. His disappointed sigh makes you frown; you know he’s being dramatic to cover up how he feels.
“Tim,” you call, sitting up as he walks to you. “I’m sorry. I love you, and I really do want you here as much as possible.”
“I know. It’s just harder than I thought it would be.”
You nod, tilting your chin up in a silent request for a kiss. Tim smiles, shaking his head as he bends to meet you. You pull back before he risks getting distracted.
“The grump is back now,” Tim mumbles.
“Hey! Be nice today,” you call after him.
Tim doesn’t reply, and you know he’ll deny ever hearing you say such a thing.
✯✯✯✯✯
Tim slams the door as he exits the shop. Standing with his hands on his hips, he looks at the flat tire before glancing at Lucy.
“I didn’t see it,” she begins, her voice rushed and apologetic.
“Because you weren’t paying attention,” Tim snaps.
“But I-“
“How do you expect to graduate to short sleeves if you can’t even drive, boot?”
“It wasn’t my fault; there was something in the road!”
“Call dispatch,” Tim demands.
“What’s the protocol for this?”
Tim remains silent, leaning against the side of the shop as Lucy racks her brain for the proper procedure. As she radios dispatch and explains the situation, Tim grows grumpier. He’s stranded in a subdivision of Los Angeles with a flat tire that could have been avoided instead of home with you. His conviction about being a cop wanes each moment he’s away from you.
✯✯✯✯✯
Even without seeing the worst of it, you can tell Tim’s attitude has changed lately. His fellow officers and the rookies have been dealing with the grumpiest version of Tim they’ve ever experienced, but you see the clingy, emotional, loving side of whatever is making him act so differently.
After doing a few small chores, which Tim will tell you not to do again, you get ready and decide to pay him a visit at the station. You want to see how he is doing.. mostly, you miss him and want an excuse to see him and hug him.
As you get in your car, you consider calling Tim to ensure he’s at the station and has time for a visitor. He has been protective of you since you met, but it has changed and increased since getting married and throughout the early months of your pregnancy. You shrug, putting your phone away after electing to surprise him instead. 
✯✯✯✯✯
“It would be great if one of you could remember that you’re a police officer!” Tim yells, looking between Nolan, Lucy, and Jackson. “Now you’ve got nothing to say? No excuses? Well maybe you should review those rook books before going out on patrol again.”
He turns quickly, prepared to storm away and find a private place to calm down. When he freezes, the rookies look at one another in confusion. Nolan prepares to speak, and Lucy shakes her head to stop him, unwilling to get yelled at again so soon.
“What are you doing here?” Tim asks.
You step into the bullpen with a smile as Tim rushes to your side.
“Missed you,” you whisper.
“Is that- is she-“ Nolan stutters.
“Pregnant? Yeah. And Tim is… smiling?” Jackson adds.
Lucy gasps, moving in front of Nolan to see better. It’s true: Tim is standing as close as he can, with one hand laid protectively over your stomach while he smiles down at you. His grumpiness, which has made being a rookie nearly unbearable recently, is completely gone, vanished at the sight of you.
“You shouldn’t be up walking around,” Tim frets.
“Then I probably shouldn’t tell you I cleaned the kitchen, huh?” you reply.
Tim shakes his head, his thumb brushing over the swell of your baby bump as he leans forward to kiss your forehead.
“Are you feeling okay?” Tim asks softly.
You smile, moving your chin to gesture to your left. Tim’s brows pinch as he turns, glaring at the rookies until they look away, turning to one another in a fake conversation.
“I’m not going to survive this afternoon,” Tim tells you.
“You’ve been grumpy and mean,” you accuse.
“Look, they’re going to annoy me all afternoon. Stay with me? You can do a ride along. Oh! Or you could go into labor so I can stay home with you for a few days.”
“As great as that sounds, I’m going to pass. I’d like to have a healthy baby when the time is right, not on your schedule, grumpy.”
Tim frowns, his hands on either side of your bump.
“But, I promise to be waiting for you the moment you get home,” you add. “And, maybe, if you just tell them the truth, it won’t be so bad.”
“You’ve never dealt with a boot. Or Angela Lopez.”
“Just because you won’t introduce me.”
“For good reason.”
You smile, raising your chin again before Tim kisses you quickly.
“Be careful going home. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
Tim watches you leave, waiting until you’re out of sight to turn back toward the rookies. He jerks back slightly when he sees Lucy standing right beside him.
“She’s so cute! You’re so cute together! Why haven’t you mentioned her, Tim?” Lucy gushes. “And where do you hide that guy that was with her? I’ve never met that Tim.”
“And you won’t,” he promises.
“I think he leaves that side of Tim with her,” Nolan adds.
Tim’s jaw clenches. It’s true, he knows, but he doesn’t want details of his personal life to become an accepted topic for the rookies. He raises his hand, and they silence.
“Just- leave it alone for now, and I will introduce you the next time she visits,” he offers. 
As he says it, he makes a mental note to ask you not to visit without warning so he doesn’t have to follow through. The lie is the only way to have peace while in the vicinity of the rookies.
“I can’t believe you’re going to be a dad,” Jackson muses.
“You’re having a kid?” Angela yells, running down the stairs and grabbing Tim’s arm.
Tim grumbles something unintelligible under his breath before saying, “Yes.”
“Boy or girl?”
“Don’t know yet.”
“If it’s a girl, Angela is a great name.”
“Oh, trust me, I’ve got a long list of names that are an absolute no-go,” Tim replies, looking between the rookies and Angela.
“How did you figure this out?” Angela asks Lucy.
“She – who is she?” Lucy begins before realizing that she never heard who you are to Tim.
“My wife,” Tim mutters.
“You’re married?!” Angela and Nolan ask together.
Angela slaps Tim's shoulder, frowning when he looks at her with his eyebrows raised.
“I thought we were friends.”
“What gave you that impression?”
Angela gasps, covering her heart with her hand.
“Uh, Tim?” you ask, standing behind him.
He turns toward you quickly, and Angela’s eyes widen as she looks at you.
“Yeah?” he asks kindly, yet another surprise.
“Can you come with me for a second?” You notice the small crowd behind him, officers who seem more interested in you than anything else. “Hi,” you say, waving at them.
“It is so nice to meet you,” Angela begins, stepping toward you before Tim blocks her way with his arm.
“We’ll do introductions later,” Tim says, putting his arm around you and leading you away.
“I’m holding you to that!” Lucy yells.
Tim leads you into an empty interview room, his eyes searching yours. You take his hand, laying it on your stomach. Something happened when you heard his voice earlier, and you want to share it.
“Say something,” you request. “Anything.”
“I love you,” Tim answers.
His eyes widen as he feels the movement of a kick against his hand. He squats before you, moving his hand under your shirt.
“You know who I am, don’t you?” he asks.
You feel another kick, laughing at how your baby already has Tim wrapped around its finger. 
“You promised to make introductions,” you say, interrupting Tim’s conversation with your stomach.
Tim stands, cupping your face in his hands and kissing you. Breathless, you push against his chest as you break away.
“You were right,” you admit. “It would be nice to have you home more.”
“We did it,” Tim whispers, his eyes dropping to your bump.
“I feel like I’m interrupting something,” you mumble.
Tim chuckles, rubbing your back as he leads you to the door.
“Introductions, and then we’re going home,” Tim explains. “Names and nothing more.”
“I would expect no less, Officer Bradford.”
867 notes · View notes
hotpinkstars · 1 month
Note
WE NEED THE COMFORTT FOR THE BLIND READER FUN YOU CAN’T LEAVE US HANGING LIKE THIS?????? (can’t do angst no comfort 😔)
-> blinded mistakes - happy ending
synopsis -> your husband feels bad for the way he snapped the other day. how does he make it up to you?
a/n -> approximately 28 people have asked for a part 2. this is insane i have so many people to tag (who aren't anons, obviously) BUT THANKS FOR ALL THE LOVE ON MY OTHER ONE OMGGGGG!!!! i love u all sm
warnings -> crying, but that's kinda all lol. this ones mostly just fluff!
w/c -> 951
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-> kamisato ayato
it’s been a few days since the argument. 
ayato had been given an extension due to his circumstances, and didn’t have to worry about the ruined papers due to the kindness from the city's higher-ups who assigned him such papers in the first place. a lot of them were salvageable, too.
once he finished them, he leaned back, smiling from the stress relief. he got up, grabbed a cup of tea from the kitchen, and realized something.
you weren’t in the main room, waiting for him to leave his office so you two could spend some time together.
he then thought back about the events that took place. his chest immediately fills with regret at the words spoken to you. coincidentally, ayaka walked into the room.
“ayaka, have you seen y/n?” he hurried to his sister, who simply sighed.
“they’ve been in their room. they’ve been beating themselves up about the incident, so now they’re afriad of moving incase they bother you more,” she brushed past him. “good luck making amends. they’re incredibly hurt.”
he nodded, processing the information. he pacewalked to your shared bedroom, where he opened the door to see your sleeping form. 
he sat next to you, stroking your hair until you woke up. when you felt a hand on top of your head, you flinched a little bit.
“who’s there?” you said in a soft voice, unwilling to cause more issues by lashing out or showing aggression. 
“ayato,” he took his hand off your head. “i’ve come to say i’m sorry.”
you got up and found the headboard, slowly resting yourself up on it. “why all of the sudden? i hope you understand that you really hurt me, ayato. i’ve been too scared to get up these last few days because of the way you made me feel. the only times i’ve gotten up were to go to the restroom, bathe, and eat, but thoma would bring me something here. i still think about the words you said and your gestures.”
he looked down, sighing. he didn’t realize how much of an effect his words and actions had on you, but now that he’s hearing it from you, it seems like two more tons added to his shoulders. “don’t worry about it. it was salvageable, and you hadn’t ruined anything.”
“i wish you told me that when it happened, ayato,” you started to tear up. “i forgive you, but i don’t want to hear that again. it made me feel like shit.”
he nodded, hugging you tight, letting you cry into his shoulder. you felt around his body to realize he was wearing his white and blue suit, the one he usually goes out to fight in. 
“i’m not ruining this suit, right…?” you brought your face off his shoulder, but he immediately shoved it back in the same spot, silently telling you the obvious answer. 
he was glad he was able to resolve things. he couldn’t imagine a life without you.
-> wriothesley
it’s been about a week since wriothesley has seen you. he figured you went out of the fortress, staying over at a hotel or with a friend, like navia or chlorinde. he pretty much figured it would be chlorinde, considering she hasn’t come down to the fortress or has tried to initiate contact with him since the incident. 
he figured he’d try knocking on both doors, starting with navia. once navia told him everything he needed to know; that you were with chlorinde, he rushed over to her place.
“what are you doing here?” she scoffs as she opened the door, leaning against the doorframe. “your wife told me everything. i hope to trust that you didn’t embarrass her in front of the people who work for the palais mermonia, especially monsieur neuvillette himself.”
he shook his head, rubbing at his temples. “just let me see her, would you? i want to apologize.”
she nodded, clearing the doorway, allowing him to rush into the spare bedroom. 
you knew he was the one coming towards your room, considering his footsteps were a lot heavier than anyone you’ve ever known. his were tough, threatening. 
“wriothesley! w-what are you-” you started, your heart beating a little faster.
“i want to apologize for the things i said. i didn’t have to completely redo all my papers, and neuvillette understood the situation, and i was able to get an extent.”
you shook your head. “so you embarrassed me then, huh? you told them everything? that your stupid blind wife who is not even near good enough for you ruined your work?” 
he was speechless. he didn’t know how to respond to that sentence, so he put his hands on your shoulders, asking for silent permission to take you into a hug. once you nodded, he embraced you tightly. 
“no, i didn’t tell them that. i told him it was just a spill, and that i was able to save some of the papers. neuvillette is a very understanding man, and this never happens. i never need new copies or need extents, so he was willing to do it this time. nothing about you came up in our conversation,” he swallowed a lump in his throat before going on. “and you’re not stupid. you’re also the perfect choice for me, not good enough my ass. no matter what i have to do to make you see that, just because you have a disability doesn’t mean you’re unworthy.”
you started to cry, letting the tears spill into his chest, creating a damp spot on his tie. 
“so you don’t hate me then?” you sniffed.
“no, not at all. i couldn’t bring myself to hate you for something as dumb as that.”
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visenyaism · 1 month
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I’m SO glad you called Ned an “enabler”.
Ned gets so much praise (and hate ??) for warning Cersei before wanting to sell her out to her rapist but I disagree with that praise. No one looks at the patriarchal violence lurking beneath. You know exactly the nature of the man you’re dealing with, you saw him slapped Cersei so hard she fell to the floor and threatening to slap her again, and you think giving one flimsy warning will be enough ?? Ned is absolutely a misogynistic fool. When Robert comes back from his hunt he’ll tell Robert the truth and he thinks Cersei will have enough time to flee with her guard and children and retinue ??
“Wherever you go, Robert’s wrath will follow you”, Ned knows that sooner or later (in a few weeks, a few months), Cersei and her children will be slaughtered, he just postponed their deaths. Ned would have received a letter informing him that Robert eventually murdered Cersei and her children and think “how could this have happened ? At least, I wasn’t the one holding the knife so I don’t have their blood on my hands.”
@translannisters and @kristevanstark have much more coherent thoughts about this than me on their very fun deeply excellent asoiaf podcast but yeah in AGOT ned ends up taking this almost wife-like role (stay with me here) with robert where he’s trying to gently guide robert into doing the right thing without ever setting hard boundaries or really flat-out saying no. And ned resents cersei for not being as good at this with her abusive husband as he is. you can really see it in that conversation with cersei where he straight up says well anyone (like me) would’ve been happy to marry robert why couldn’t you have just been better because as a fellow robert baratheon dickrider he refuses to acknowledge that there IS no “doing better” at gently guiding this chaotic abusive man with absolute power into doing the right thing when he does not want to.
ned stark is a HUGE enabler of robert with a big case of “i refuse to see it” syndrome. him watching robert hit cersei and not intervene is like when stannis watched robert hit joffrey and didn’t intervene or all of the standing by as atrocities happened that people like Jaime Lannister and Arthur Dayne did. It’s absolutely an essential part of his character but i think it can be hard to see because we only see him through his wife and children and vassal house’s eyes who still very much see him as a perfect martyr figure.
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spacerockfloater · 1 month
Text
Being a female viewer and hating Criston Cole is deranged.
I have to get this off my chest. The blind hatred that Criston is receiving from women is insane and I’m going to explain why.
For context, I am talking about Show Criston, not Book Criston. Comparing two standalone versions of a story is silly.
I cannot wrap my head around the fact that so many women, who are the primary victims of utilitarian relationships, would ever come together and shit on Criston for enduring such a situation.
I’m sorry, but how many of you have been used by men? How many of you have been reduced to one night stands, situationships and placeholder wives? How many of you have been deemed “not good enough” to be an exclusive partner? I log into tiktok and I see NOTHING but stories of broken women who are just used for sex, money, care and whatnot by men, and then they are tossed away like worthless trash while said men continue their pursuit of the ideal woman. Being used by men just for sex and being denied the status of girlfriend, let alone wife, is probably one of the worst plagues women are experiencing in the western world because the MOMENT we were emancipated, men understood that they don’t owe us shit anymore and instead of treating us with respect, they decided to grab whatever they can and give nothing back. Do not tell me that there are women out there that are fine with this arrangement because the multiple “GWM while I tell you about the guy that was with me for 12 years and then married someone else” tell a different story, one of multiple women’s dignities being trampled by hungry men. My heart breaks for every woman (EVERY woman, cis, trans, EVERY woman) who has been called by a man she loves just for sex, for every woman whose man never wanted to be seen in public with her, for every woman who had to hear that her man is not ready for a relationship only to witness him getting engaged to another woman 2 weeks after. I hope you overcome this and become stronger and I am glad that we are finally supporting one another.
How can we then, the women who are helping other female victims rise up and speak out against this kind of abuse, push Criston down and tell him to suck it up and accept being Rhaenyra’s plaything? Have we no mercy? Are we so hungry for revenge against men that we’d want them to endure the same humiliation that we did, as if one fictional man’s suffering would bring us justice? Are we so jealous that Criston didn’t sit down and just take it like the rest of us, but instead spoke up and removed himself from that situation? Or are we so gullible that we accept what the screenwriters shove down our throats and unknowingly support the patriarchic view that if you’re being used by someone you should just accept it?
I can hear some of you arguing that “Oh, this is different because Rhaenyra is royalty!” as if being used and tossed by a powerful person somehow makes the situation any better? Would it be okay if a rich person wanted to constantly use you for sex while he keeps looking for a better woman to be by his side, just because he values his wealth and status more? Rhaenyra straight up sneered at the idea of a simple life with him. She straight up told him that HE is not worth as much as her crown. OUCH. Even though I can’t even begin to imagine the pain of being told you are not enough by your loved one, it was Rhaenyra’s right to choose what her priorities are, but WHY would he have to accept being her sidepiece? “These were different times”: does this make it any less devastating for the victim? And he was a victim because Rhaenyra still used Criston and misled him by constantly complaining about how she HATES her duties for YEARS and then luring him to break his oath. Do you think he would have still slept with her if he was aware that moments ago, Rhaenyra was begging on her knees to be fucked by Daemon and only turned to Criston because her first option was no longer available? Like, the man was contemplating having sex with her and resisted her for a good fucking while, so imagine how quickly he would have turned around and walked out that door if he had that information beforehand. You know why? Because he loved her. He loved her to the point that he broke his oath for her, the oath of a station he FOUGHT FOR IN A WAR. He shed blood and sweat and risked his life for the mere opportunity to gain that position. This was ALL he had, he came from NOTHING and he was still willing to toss it all away for Rhaenyra not once, but twice. It wasn’t just sex he wanted because we never see him have sex again after that. He became vulnerable and gave up everything that he was to be with Rhaenyra. He was willing to abandon his whole identity for her sake. Is this not what the ideal partner is? Ready to abandon everything for your shake? Everything he fought for, tooth and nail? Was he unreasonable in thinking that Rhaenyra was willing to do the same for him? Was he crazy to think that because he was ready to put everything he FOUGHT for aside for her shake, Rhaenyra would also put aside a duty she was handed and actively seem to hate for him too? Fuck no! After hearing her constant talk about how she hates her father, her duties, her refusal to wed other men, how she is trapped as a princess, how people have no idea how much it SUCKS being her, why would he not assume that she’d be willing to give it all up for him, as he’d do for her We never see Rhaenyra even TRY to be a ruler, just complain about it. Of course it would be a fucking shock to him hearing her say “Lol dude, I actually do kinda want this”.
Criston was actually the only person in the series that wanted Rhaenyra for her, not her money or crown. I’m not saying she had to follow him, it was her right to refuse him, but his willingness to lead a simple life with just her has got to mean something. And don’t give me that “he only wanted to redeem his honour by marrying her” crap, because first of all Criston nutted up and admitted everything to Alicent and was ready to face death without EVER blaming Rhaenyra for anything, and second of all, oh no, how dare a human being have ethical values and desire to live with dignity in society’s broad light rather than move in the shadows as the princess’s secret boytoy! Bad, bad Criston for feeling you have to atone for your sins. Maybe we as people have become so corrupt that we envy those who wish to walk a virtuous path in life. Or maybe y’all have become so fond of the unhinged unapologetic character trope because it feels “original” (even if it’s ridiculously overused nowadays) that you’ve actually forgotten what characters with good morals are. Like, picking your fave war criminal and rolling with them because you enjoy good drama, especially in a show that’s meant to provide entertainment, is one thing, but passionately stating that Criston had to submit to that humiliation is something else entirely.
Finally, let’s ditch the Criston being a misogynist bullshit because he had NO issue obeying Rhaenyra before their affair or Alicent. And he is ALWAYS true to himself and his values, because even after everything he endured, he did not use Alicent’s anger as an excuse to take revenge on Rhaenyra and harm her children. Criston never betrayed her, Rhaenyra used him and he walked away and he went towards the only person who seemed to spare him some sympathy and understand him and not condemn him for his crimes even if he hated himself, which is typical victim mentality. And don’t get me started on the Joffrey incident because y’all tore Cole to SHREDS for it. Joffrey had it fucking coming. You don’t go up to people’s faces, especially ones you don’t know, threaten them by telling them you know their secret, a secret that SHAMES them and burdens them to the point they’re ready to commit suicide, and all but directly call them a whore. What the fuck did he think was going to happen? They’d shake hands? Piss off. Let this be a lesson to anyone that doesn’t know how to keep their mouths shut and their noses out of other people’s business. Also, mocking his suicide attempt makes my stomach turn. Just take a moment to consider all the young women who just like him, reluctantly surrendered their virginities to men only to find out they were nothing but sex dolls in their eyes, all these girls whose trust led to their secret being spread and them getting ridiculed and slut shamed for it: how many girls have taken their own lives because they found living with such a burden unbearable?
For the love of everything you hold sacred, please wake up sisters. The narrative that you can be used by someone powerful and you have to accept it because that’s the way things are is a man’s construct. Do not let them fool you.
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etherealstar-writes · 3 months
Text
I WANNA BE YOURS | LIONESSES X READER | PT 7
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pairings: lionesses x reader
summary: in which you're accidentally added to a random group chat, not knowing they're all actually famous footballers, and obliviously end up having many of them competing for your love and attention.
part: seven
part one here
✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦
THE NATIONAL DIVING TEAM
the REAL karate kid
good afternoon losers
and y/n <3
the imposter
hey
willybum
good afternoon you dumbass
and hello to you too y/n
the REAL karate kid
rude
how are you y/n?
the imposter
eh i'm doing fine i guess
stairway
is everything alright
the imposter
i got fired from work today 😔
lotte
what happened?
if you don't mind me asking
the imposter
so i told ya what i do for work yeah?
well i've worked for this company for the past
whole year as their main solo media manager
and then my boss found out that his good old
friend's son was looking for a job and he's also
a photographer and social media manager so he
decided to fire me and hire him instead to
keep his relationship strong with his old friend
the REAL karate kid
that really sucks
your boss sounds like a terrible person
the imposter
yeah he was a really difficult person
i am kinda glad tho ngl
i don't have to see his annoying face ever again
but back to job hunting again 😔
neev
if it makes you feel better
leah got head-shotted in the head
by lessi during training
the imposter
i really hope someone got proof of it
stairway
i gotcha
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maya
HELP
lotte
got K.O-ed lol
willybum
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this isn't funny
i got a full on concussion
i'll get you back russo
the REAL karate kid
not my fault you're a terrible defender 🤷‍♀️
willybum
EXCUSE ME?!
the imposter
dam
them calves 😮‍💨
has anyone ever asked you
to step on them?
neev
um y/n is there something you'd
like to share with the group ...
willybum
weirdly enough yeah
i have been asked that
elton
it was actually just y/n asking
on a secret account
the imposter
don't expose me like that 😩
meado
every time i open this group chat
i get deeply concerned for you all again
i don't even know who y/n is and i feel like
i should be concerned about her as well
the imposter
woah
meado
i thought we were getting along well 😔
stairway
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well if meado is concerned then
i guess she's offering to pay for
our therapy so let's go gang
the imposter
also
why do guys always train and
play football together?
elton
oh you know
we just like to play football together at times
stairway
yeah
it's fun
the imposter
okay ....
who am i to judge
✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦
THE LION KING SQUAD
russo
uh
so guys
i have done something
toone
oh no
that is never a good sign
le tissier
okay i'm intrigued
this is gonna be bad
wubben-moy
the fact that she's using the group chat
without y/n is not a good sign
stanway
is she about to introduce her new wife
to us or something? did you like run away
and get married in vegas or something?
charles
we literally saw her yesterday georgia
so if she had then that would be
insanely impressive
toone
is that why you weren't at training today?
greenwood
ella looked very lost today
it was worrying
russo
yeah
i ran away with y/n and we got married
toone
HUH
stanway
WHAT
charles
EXCUSE ME
russo
OF COURSE NOT YOU IDIOTS
not yet anyway 😏
but back to the point
leah was also in on this
bright
oh like that's any better
williamson
excuse me??
wubben-moy
here we go
russo
okay
so
you know how y/n's looking for a job yeah?
well leah and i thought we'd put in a
good word for her in our media admin so
that you know .... maybe she can get
offered a job here and you know we can
actually meet her and get to know her irl ....
stanway
that is actually ....
the most decent idea i've heard from ya
charles
yeah fr
hemp
oh my god y'all are such simps
stanway
shut up
toone
i do wonder when y/n will find out about
who we are or if she ever will
charles
nah she's got to find out soon with
the euros starting next week?
williamson
i reckon we tell her after the euros
wubben-moy
well that shall be eventful
part eight here
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