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#and I was so nauseous I thought I was going to throw up
good-night-space-kid · 4 months
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psa: don't take two of you anti emetic/motion sickness pills at noon if you want to do anything else later in the day no matter how nauseous you are. sincerely, somebody who just slept from 4-6:30pm on accident
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soloh · 1 year
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I have been craving eggs so badly all day, finally went and got a panini that had eggs in it and devoured it so fast I was having mental images of Bella Swan during her honeymoon in Breaking Dawn 😅😅😅
Fortunately, 1. My boyfriend is not a vampire, and 2. The pregnancy test I did last week was very definitively negative, so obviously my body just wants extra protein for some reason
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nataliewaitegf · 1 year
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emeto & food tw in the tags
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mingirn · 2 years
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great <3
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abysslll · 1 year
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huh maybe i am a masochist
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muddi-gutz · 8 months
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i’ve been feeling soo nauseous the past week and idk why bro, it’s pissing me off
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nomaishuttle · 1 year
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i think she would kill her brother in any universe (said in a very sad voice)
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altieris · 6 months
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cw; obsessive!anakin, toxic!anakin, babytrapping, afab reader, 18+
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anakin skywalker is an emotional, clingy, fanatic, and obsessive little bastard.
in my heart of hearts, i believe anakin is fucking obsessed with you. he is lovesick. you're just...you, so gentle and warm. you've shown him so much love and care, and he's so so in love with you. he's ready to do just about anything for you. and hes awfully clingy, but affectionately so. he's always holding you close to his body, nuzzling his face all over yours, and kissing you excessively. sometimes it almost seems like he's trying to merge with you.
he tries to move in with you like 2 months into your relationship. he's all whiny and practically begging, "baby, we spend so much time together. why keep going back and forth like this? :(", and you solely agree cause his pout is just too pretty.
honestly, he loses his fucking mind at the mere idea of not being with you. literally. i'm talking, he'd be going on about his day, then suddenly, he's struck with the mental picture of not being yours, and you not being his. and he's brought down to his knees, head in his hands and everything.
it's to the point where he starts getting so possessive and jealous that he cannot fucking bear your friends. the concept of you taking a liking, platonic or not, to anyone but him makes him so nauseous that he's ready to throw up (that's not to say he hasn't already). and it's mutual. your friends fucking hate him, he's so mentally deranged and they can't figure out why you're with him.
oh and woe to you if any of them are men. he is in pure and utter agony. he will visibly sulk, pout and huff 24/7, he's unbearable. and when he's alone, he'll blankly stare at himself in the mirror, scream into his pillow, and cry himself to sleep.
the thought of you being with anyone but him - makes him physically incapable of breathing. it feels as if he's being suffocated. it makes him sick to his stomach and the thought of you loving anyone else makes him want to crawl up into a hole and die. he picks fights and argues with you because he just wants every ounce of your attention to be concentrated on him, needs your eyes to never stray off of him once, needs you to be all his at every waking moment. only his, his, his, his...can't you just give him that?!
and when he's finally able to see you, he practically combusts, he's fueled up by all the negative thinking :( he doesn't even stop to greet you, he just smashes his lips onto yours, and carries you to bed.
he fucks you in missionary, so he can look deep into your eyes, and show you just how much he loves you - tells you all about how he's willing to do whatever it takes for you to never, ever, leave his side. then he snarls harshly, going on about how he can't and won't let you go. and when he's close, he's practically shedding tears, begging you to never disappear on him. can't you see? he's an empty shell of a man without you, he cannot live without you. you tell him to pull out and he almost doesn't catch it due to the resounding obscene noises filling the room. almost. but he does. so he cages you in his arms, and plunges his dick so deep, and he starts babbling, all pathetic, about how your kids would have his eyes, and your nose.
he practically wails when he buries himself to the hilt one last time, shooting his cum deep inside your womb. and you're about to push him off of you when he starts moving again, helplessly and feebly mewling, "i can't stop", hes so demanding and hopeless. hes physically incapable of bringing his messy thrusts to a halt...god, what do you do with him?
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A DC X DP IDEA #28
My Beloved
Imagine dis…
You know, I like misunderstandings…
I saw a bunch of prompts that Danny is the mother of Ellie and Dan who is angry and will destroy the world in the future.
I also saw a bunch of prompts of Danny and Phantom separating themselves and acting like two individual beings but having to be in proximity or else there would be consequences.
But I didn’t see anything about combining the two things…
HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE
Daniel “Danny” Fenton knew that he had many powers, that kept on growing and appearing at the heat of the moment. He would sometimes forget how many powers he had due to his never-ending list. He has powers that he likes to use often, like levitation, flight, intangibility, his ghostly wail, and many more… But even he has a favorite, his duplication power.
Unlike Vlad who can create multiple clones of himself to do his bidding, he can only create one.
Now don’t go on and underestimate him just because he can only create one despite Vlad making multiple and who is also a halfa.
His clone is unique, when he first discovered this power of his he was all alone in the house full of guns to kill him when a passing thought passed his mind. Wes was getting on his nerves with how he adamantly tried to prove that he was Phantom. He knew the consequences when the people knew the truth, especially his parents, every time he closed his eyes it always showed him and his parents at the other end of the dissecting table.
He kept on saving them, poor animal ghosts who had just stumbled through the portal. He kept on stuffing his face with his pillows just to block out the screams.
He had just blinked, one moment he was all alone and all of a sudden another appeared in front of him.
He was startled at the notion while the clone looked at him with interest.
The clone was not human-HIM per se, but it was the ghostly-HIM aka Phantom but with more ghostly attributes.
Snow white hair that seems to sway, taller by a few feet, pointed ears, fanged teeth, skin so blue, and white freckles that seem to give off a faint glow.
He tried going ghost but was unable to do so, what he can do is a weaker version of flight, intangibility, and invisibility. While Phantom got most if not all of his powers whenever he went ghost.
At first, he was ecstatic with this new power of his not only he can throw people off who are looking too deeply into Phantom’s identity and put an end to Wes’s chatter but with this new power of his he can finally have some sort of normalcy.
But after a few minutes, he began to feel fatigued and nauseous, Phantom slowly moved towards Danny and merged himself with his human half causing a faint white glow all over his body that he got used to whenever he was going ghost.
It was a few minutes, Danny thought to himself, but it was enough to not only create a separation between the kid who always hides in the bathroom or disappears whenever there is a ghost attack and a ghost kid who looks the same age as he and only appears whenever he disappears.
But it was enough.
Everything was great, as Phantom was able to deal with the ghosts that constantly invaded his hometown but also, he is slowly bringing his grades up from where it was before the accident. He also created an alibi for himself so people will know that both Phantom and Danny and two separate people.
Both sides were able to go on separated from each other the more time they spent separated
After a few days, something also began to change.
Phantom would sometimes make a joke or a quip about death or even puns that made Danny laugh. Phantom would be more serious whenever they got too far from each other, small things that made both Danny and Phantom different from one another from an outside perspective.
Both made a mental connection to each other.
Not like romantically, but more of a deep platonic love for each other.
Devotion to each of their other halves. So deep that one might double-take whenever they saw the two.
Danny loves his friends and family but even they cannot understand him ever since the day of the accident. Jazz blessed his sister’s soul, who read every book in every existence known to man and tried to help him. But the thing is, those books are for humans, not ghosts, and especially not for someone like him.
He died and came back to life knowing instinctively that something was wrong with him. He stands in between life and death. He knew he died and felt every bolt of electricity that had killed him. He who had to sit still at the dinner table listening to their parents who were supposed to love them, listened in great detail to what they would do to Phantom when they had caught him. 
But Phantom, Phantom instinctively knew how he felt and heard his thoughts. When rough days came to Danny, Phantom quietly appeared behind him and offered his silent support.
Both needed each other to live, without the other one cannot survive on their own.
Phantom, when got too far and separated from his human for far too long got reckless, angry, cold, merciless, and ruthless. Nocturn got the burnt of it despite knowing that Phantom held back.
And Danny?
Got too emotional, and detached, and has that far-away look on his face. He would space out an entire war or destruction surrounding and he still would not notice.
Both are each other’s anchor and rock. And when both become one and become Phantom together then they will be unstoppable.
When Danny became the Ghost King it was clear they needed to separate often due to the amount of paperwork that was left pilling when Pariah Dark was in charge.
It became domestic, Danny thought as he paused for a bit when he was trying to write a book report from the Lord of the Rings courtesy of Mr. Lancer. Add the latest guests in his room he thought as he took a look at the sleeping and cuddled up Dan and Ellie who are now freshly de-aged due to some circumstances.
When Danny tried to explain to the two halves the reason why he and Phantom seemed to separate or why he was using this power of his almost every day.
Dan and Ellie seem the only two who didn’t feel weird at his new predicament. Both de-aged ghosts after a sudden bad melting episode and the start of someone’s redemption arc called human Danny is their mom while Phantom is their dad.
Danny at first surprised at the title given by the two but asked playfully to the twins why is he the mom. Phantom who was trying to cuddle the two de-aged ghosts whom he saw as his children at this point and his human counterpart mumbled about whether was it the time when he went and juggled flaming diapers or mastered the art of the 'mom stare' that could freeze a room?
Danny who is still in a bad mood from Dash’s bullying earlier snarked back at Phantom on how he got the dad title. Did he accidentally perfect the art of 'dad dancing' during ghostly gatherings? or accidentally stumble into a dad joke competition?
Sam, often would joke that if she didn’t know better, she would think the two would be lovers which would be found in Paulina’s A03 account and history.
Now that spread like wildfire, it spread faster than Wes could say Danny is Phantom. Now both GIW and his parents are out to get him for two different reasons… One Phantom mind controlled their precious son and now locked up Danny for his “own good” and two he was called a so-called “traitor” to his race as he fell in love with a creature who was not even sentient.
As things slowly went out of hand, Danny had to physically drag Phantom, who had been clawing and gripping to Danny like a lifetime ever since Danny told him to stay at the Infinite Realms for their safety, to a portal with the two children who have their eyes puffed red as they say their farewells to each other.
The JL is now confused, they kept seeing the same teen on the loose that appeared in various cities such as Metropolis, Central, Star City, and many more, with various government agents tailing him and trying to capture him.
At first, they thought it was another of Walker’s programs, in which they kidnap various kids who have a powerful meta ability to be part of a group that directly answers to the government.
But when it was revealed that he is another son of Bruce Wayne, it became personal.
Could it be another ploy to gain the Wayne enterprise through a much older and miniature appearance of Bruce Wayne, is it another ploy to gain Bruce Wayne’s wealth and money… They might never know.
Batman aka Bruce Wayne publicly announced that he had found another son who was rummaging in the trash of Gotham City, this way those mysterious agents could not publicly go after him as Danny had been publicly broadcasted and the manor is equipped with the latest security known to man.
Danny is very skittish the Batfam concluded, as if every move and twitch they made is something Danny should be wary of. Danny was too distracted to be sad, and have little to no energy to even join Dick and the rest of his siblings to bond over something.
However, that didn’t stop them from forming some sort of familial bond with Danny despite him being too guarded and too wary to get close to the family.
However, it all changed on a random day, as the entire noticed his change of mood. No longer the wariness, anxiety, and nervousness they encountered daily. Each of them began asking around within themselves if they were the one who made a change to Danny, even Alfred didn’t know who or what made him turn a 180.
Of course, when they tried to ask COUGH to interrogate COUGH Danny, he just kept quiet and smiled shyly.
..
Night comes and all the Bats are gathered at the cave to discuss what made Danny to be in a good mood before their patrol.
As they were just about to leave for their shift when Oracle notified them Danny leaving the manor.
Of course, all of them immediately followed him and followed him to a tall abandoned building with Danny sitting giddily on top of the said building. Of course, some of them have some dark thoughts about Danny sitting on top of a warehouse and seeming near the edge. One of the Bat broods is ready to interfere if Danny even makes any signs.
But all thoughts were thrown out as a crack seemed to tear through reality appeared behind Danny, Danny on the other hand looked ecstatic. As the tear/ crack opened up there they saw an underworldly being donned with a crown that is covered in various jewels, an outfit and cape fit for an emperor, and eyes that reminded them of the Lazarus pits.
Just as the moment they tried to calm their hearts down, Danny flung himself towards the unknown being and cried out beloved, the said being caught Danny and twirled him around.
Both are in their little world as they both keep laughing and hugging each other.
The Bat family who are still in the shadows kept their eyes on the two as they wanted to get Danny away from someone that made their instincts go haywire. Batman and Robin are both especially to grab Danny away from that thing.
Both the being and Danny finally settled down and began chatting to each other with little to no distance between the two. The being then summoned a basket that was full of unique and exotic food and then shared it with their new brother.
Then Danny suddenly asked about the kids, What kids!!! EVERYONE thought when suddenly two black blurs went and tackled Danny down, knocking the air out of him.
As the kids stopped hugging Danny, they all held their breaths, they looked like the perfect copy of Danny. Black hair and blue eyes, both kids exclaimed Danny as their mom while they pouted at the being and called him dad about hoarding their mom.
The reunited “family” began chatting about how they were at each other, more on the beings asking how Danny is especially doing.
Danny chatted about how the Waynes are too good for him and how he informed Batman since the Bats have a very close relationship with the Waynes. When one of the kids why mom needs to talk to Batman, Danny just casually reveals a bombshell on the Anti-Ecto laws, GIW, The Infinite realms...etc. So that both mom and dad could get together again, as mom aka Danny is trying everything to stop the war from the living world while their dad tries to stop the war from the Realms.
As they were chatting and catching up to one another, Danny looked at his wristwatch and told the kids that he had to get going or else the Waynes might notice that he snuck out. Both kids immediately cried and gripped Danny while the other being also known as dad didn’t even try to pry the kids off from Danny as he too wanted to stay with the human.
Of course, Danny gently pried off the three hands that were gripping and immediately one of the kids threw a tantrum at how Danny was not safe and might get him killed if he stayed there and Danny should just go with them. Of course, Danny shook his head and told the kid that Mommy was doing everything he could to protect both of them also he might not want to admit it in front of the Wayne but he did grow on them, like a fungus he can’t remove.
And so, the trio left the building after one last look and hug from Danny, Danny immediately lost the small life and cheerfulness that he had when he was meeting them and silently went back to the manor.
This made the Bat clan scramble to fix everything, all the while competing for the favorite uncle and aunt title while both Bruce and Alfred engage in their silent war for the grandpa title, when they showed their findings to the League both Booster Gold and the Flask stood up white as paper.
They claimed at the picture of Danny, that he may be the one who destroyed the future, but looked a little confused as some traits that they remembered were not on Danny which made them speculate that maybe he grew into. But when the two-time travelers explained in great detail his appearance, it matched the appearance of their nephew.
Is this the reason why Dan turned evil, humans have killed his family leaving him both angry and devastated that he let the world know of his pain?
PS: If someone out there wants to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.
PPS: As you can see, I posted a bit early, I got a bunch of people to do and things to see. So uhh, bye-bye!
PPPS: This one got too long for my liking...
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jamminvroomvroom · 2 months
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die for you.
ln x driver!reader
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in which you can’t stand each other, or so you say…
this took waaaay too long for me to hate it sm but she’s here! and she’s long! love this concept so much, thank you for this request. so many feels so many vibes, tell me what you think <3
loosely inspired by die for you by the weeknd
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, language, slight glimpses of she fell first, he fell harder, rivals to lovers/enemies to lovers, choking, hate sex? bar fight, mentions of blood
8.3k words (oop)
it’s rare that you miss a podium, so when you do, it tastes bitter and stings like a bitch.
the car has been on fire all season long, a thing of beauty in your calculated hands. so, the string of bad luck you’re enduring, small mistakes with big consequences, it’s quite the pill to swallow.
out of the car you jump, teeth grinding hard out of frustration. you could see the commotion ahead of you, members of the papaya team celebrating their driver. your eyes roll so hard in your head that you feel a lasting ache. you side step members of your team, dodging every single person that tries to talk to you, your comms officer knowing better than to try and engage with you. you know you’re being unreasonable, it was a p5 finish! but it isn’t a podium or a win, so quite frankly, you aren’t interested, and you certainly don’t have any energy left to hear how amazingly well he had driven.
lando fucking norris.
what was once quiet disdain had grown into fully fledged hatred and you fear you’ll be violently sick if you catch a single glimpse of him on the podium. sure, he’s talented, and sure, he’s beautiful, you suppose. that doesn’t mean you have to like him. not anymore. he lives under your skin, inescapable.
you struggle through every interview in the media pen, most of which dissect your recent fall from grace, your mouth forming a hard, unimpressed line every time they mention the orange goblin and his recent streak of podiums and good luck. you wish the journos would bring up his string of women and the probable plan b receipts that went with them. that, you would love to talk about.
you drive in silence back to your hotel, leaving the track as soon as possible, and quickly find solace in your bed for the night. the idea of seeing the inside of a club makes you nauseous after your epic downfall. as your eyes are drooping, your body going limp under the thick duvet, a knock sounds from the door.
“no.” you shout flatly, but the only response you get are giggles from the hallway. for fuck sake, you mutter, groaning as you shift out from beneath the covers and trail apprehensively towards the door.
george and alex appear before you, and you throw your head back is exasperation.
“mate, it’s 9:30.” alex laughs, taking in your fancy attire; pyjamas that you’ve had since you were 17.
“what’s your point?” you croak, glaring up at your obnoxiously tall friend.
“why aren’t you getting ready to go out?” george questions, leaning against the doorframe. he, too, was obnoxiously tall, you thought, feeling the strain in your neck as you move your glare onto him.
“if it wasn’t obvious, i’m not going.” you deadpan, crossing your arms over your chest. “i thought that was clear after i ignored all 77 of your texts.” you smile sarcastically, rubbing sleep from your eyes.
“don’t be boring! you’re an f1 driver, you’re in a cool city, you’re rich and, let’s face it,” he sasses. “you need to get laid.” alex says, like it’s the most causal thing in the world. your eyes bulge out of your head at the utterance of the last bit. george bites back laughter.
“choosing to ignore that.” you hiss. “i’m sorry but i refuse to go out and celebrate that arrogant, whiny little bitch.”
they both know exactly who you’re talking about.
you and lando have simply never seen eye to eye. your karting days were spent pushing one another off the track or into a muddy puddle if things got a bit heated out of the car. sure, olive branches were extended, and maybe adolescent feelings were secretly harboured, but he never gave you any reason to tell him that. you’d grown out of the childish violence when you graduated into formula 1, but you hadn’t been able to shake the rage he made you feel.
it didn’t matter how many dinners you attended where others had conspired and forced you to sit next to each other. it didn’t matter how many times you turned up to play padel and were met with the same lame excuses of ‘oh, did we not mention lando would be here?’ it didn’t matter how many times you’d hugged it out on the podium while adrenaline and tensions were running high.
it didn’t matter how many times he’d watched you from across a crowded room and you’d found his eyes, watched him back. it didn’t matter how many times he’d smirked at you at the start of a race weekend, made you blush. and it certainly didn’t matter what happened last time you found yourself in a club with him.
you just don’t like him. not anymore. you sleep better at night when you lie to yourself.
~ the last time
you sink shot after shot, cocktail after cocktail; the taste of fruity liquor stains your lips and burns your throat. you feel electric, sizzling with ecstasy and the heat from the flashing lights above your head.
it’s approaching 4am and you can’t recall a time in your life where you’d felt so fucking good. the high of your first win is indescribable.
you’ve lost track of the guys, alex and george have packed it in and gone back to their hotels with their girlfriends. pierre and kika are somewhere in a corner, you’re certain. you’re pretty sure you’ve even seen lewis with his entourage and a brick wall of a bodyguard trailing behind him. and at the bar, a set of eyes watch you.
lando isn’t even listening to oscar anymore, no. he is too entranced in the way your hips move to the beat, lost in the carefree lines your body makes in the crowd. he’s itching to go to you, put his hands in places that would stay between you, him, and god, but he doesn’t think a broken nose would be good for business.
everything changes when you spin around, facing his direction. then, it begins: the same thing that happens every time you end up going out in the same group. you watch one another, pretending you’re not both achingly desperate to find out how the other tastes.
but lando is feeling bold. he tells oscar he’ll see him in the morning, and then, egged on by a moscow mule and a few too many shots, he makes his way towards you. it is instinctual, magnetic, the way he is drawn to you.
hands on your hips, lips on your neck. the song changes. you recognise the weeknd’s voice. you are disappointed in yourself but it feels too good to stop.
you know what i’m thinkin', see it in your eyes
you hate that you want me, hate it when you cry
you’re scared to be lonely, 'specially in the night
i’m scared that i’ll miss you, happens every time
the lyrics sober you up. you’re in the first taxi you can see when you finally get outside.
alone.
~
as much as that memory makes you shiver, for several different reasons, you find yourself putting on some makeup and raking through your suitcase for something to wear. george and alex are waiting downstairs for you at the bar, and when you finally make your way down there, they have a martini waiting for you. they watch in impressed horror as the alcohol disappears from the glass mere seconds after it touches your lips.
“let’s get this over with.” you sigh.
-
it could have been worse, you suppose.
the club is packed, hundreds of faces blurring into nothing. you feel better knowing that there is a one in a million chance of running into lando.
you’re tucked into a booth with alex and george, carmen and lily, a few faces you can’t quite place, and charles and pierre. you’d conspired to sit on the outside, prepared to make a quick getaway at the first sign of tension.
you’d been in a state of fight or flight since your last run in, nails bitten down every time you thought about his hands on you, how good they felt on you. it scared you more than anything had in a long time, how your desire had festered.
you go to take a swig from your glass, only to find it empty, aside from a few sad ice cubes. you watch jealously as they melt into nothing, wishing they would take you with them, shoving your glass across the smooth table top when your frustration boils over.
you’re on edge, ridiculously afraid of bumping into a curly haired man. it wasn’t him you were scared of, per-say, more yourself. god knows what you’d do if you felt those warm, calloused hands pulling your hips into his again.
“you okay?” pierre calls across the table. he and charles abandon their conversation as soon as your glass goes flying towards their side of the table. you’re broken out of your trance, caught off guard like a deer in headlights.
“tired.” you reply, shrugging it off like it was nothing. it’s clear immediately that they don’t buy it.
“she’s hiding.” alex chimes in from beside you, and your elbow goes straight into his ribs. he feigns pain for a moment, cackling at your reaction.
“from who?” charles inquires. you roll your eyes, blush spreading down your neck already. you hate everything about the conversation, and yet you need to see where it goes. you’d planned your escape, and now was the opportune time to make it, but you seem to be glued to the leather of the booth.
“lando.” george smirks into his drink as a he speaks, wiggles his eyebrows.
“oh yeah, we know all about that.” pierre laughs, his head tipping back in amusement.
“what?” you spit, eyes wide with confusion.
“don’t think me and kika didn’t see you two before the summer break. that night you won? we thought you’d finally cave.” pierre explains, his grin conveying pure evil.
several “what?!”’s sound from around the table, and now all eyes are on you.
“nothing even happened.” you mumble. “he came over to me and then i left.” you look away, twisting your hair around your finger. you are sweating.
“you looked like you were minutes away from being arrested for public indecency.” pierre smirks. you almost launch yourself across the table, intent on strangling him, and then perhaps throwing yourself in front of an oncoming uber outside.
“well, well, well. i fucking knew it.” alex is giggling beside you.
“come on guys, leave the poor girl alone.” lily winks at you, but even she has a twinkle in her eye. “there’s obviously feelings there.” and just like that she betrays you. her sympathetic smile doesn’t make you forgive her.
“i think you guys just need to get it out of your system,” charles starts, pausing to take a sip of his drink. “just fuck.” he waves his hand, like it was the most causal thing in the world.
the table erupts in laughter and you decide that you are well past the end of your tether. you shake your head, declaring that you need another drink, or ten, and strut away from the table. a chorus of ‘love you’-s and ‘get some’-s sound from behind you. you reply simply by raising your middle finger and refusing to look back.
the bar is in sight, just about in your reach when your evening goes from mildly bad to aggressively worse.
“fuck sake.” you sigh.
“and good evening to you too.” lando replies. he’s blocking your path, materialising before you out of nowhere.
“get out of my way, lan.” it sounds like you’re pleading and you cringe internally.
“don’t you wanna congratulate me?” he feigns a pout and you almost swing for him.
“no, not particularly.” you say dryly. “all i want is a drink, so if you’d just…” you gesture for him to move. of course, he doesn’t.
“haven’t seen you in a while, though. thought maybe you’d missed me.” he takes a step closer; goosebumps litter your bare skin.
“you are such an entitled prick.” you spit, moving to step around him but he catches you, gripping your wrists and pulling you in. you feel heat radiating off of him, expensive cologne overwhelming you in the best possible way.
“and you, honey, are such a fucking brat. but you don’t hear me complaining, do you?” lando whispers, cool breath hitting your face, minty, laced with champagne and cockiness. you almost fold, thighs clenching so tight that he must have noticed.
“move.” you grumble through gritted teeth. you are crumbling painfully, embarrassingly fast.
“make me.” your underwear is damp, but you are fuming.
“don’t fucking test me, lando.” something in your chest sets on fire and you’re over him and his bullshit, and the way he makes you feel.
“i know you want me.” he dips his forehead down to rest gently against yours. his grip on your wrists tightens, thumbs swirling circles into the flesh, right where your pulse is.
you lean in, mere centimetres separating your lips. his eyes darken, the assumption of victory over you tugs his lips into a smirk.
“all i want is my fucking drink. come find me when you’ve managed to navigate your gigantic, stupid head out of your arse.” you catch him off guard, wriggling out of his grip. you’re shaking when you walk away, thoughts of doing things with him that would get you both fired invading your foggy brain.
you try to disappear into the crowd, finally breathe a sigh of relief when your hands meet the cool surface of the bar. you order your drink, putting it on your tab and drum your nails against the marble top. you’re lost in your own world, watching as concoctions are mixed, as shots are downed. you finally feel at ease, until your evening takes yet another turn, one that was somehow even more unfortunate than all the others.
your attention is rudely stolen by the guy stood next to you.
“can i get that for you?” the random man speaks, in a way that he must of assumed was smooth. slimy, you think. he’s gesturing to your drink, clearly having watched you add it to your bill already.
“no, thank you. it’s already paid for.” you smile politely, turning on your heel. it seems he wasn’t quite done with you. you feel a clammy hand tug on yours, a wave of sickness washes over you.
lando’s hands are bigger, warmer, softer.
“where are you rushing off to, babe?” the sweaty man asks, his tone fake in a way that makes you uneasy.
“i need to get back to my friends.” you try to pull your hand free, but he won’t budge. “can you let go-“
“i can show you a good time. always thought you were kinda hot.” you’re panicking now, looking every which way for a familiar face, a security guard, anyone.
“take your hands off of me.” you snap, still wrestling to pull yourself free.
“one night with me would pull you out of that little slump you’re in.” he leers. you visibly gag, white hot rage blurs your vision.
“okay you piece of shi-“ you snarl, interrupted by a flash of curls and tanned skin.
“she told you to let go.” lando stands in front of you protectively, rigid and furious. you’ve never been so happy to see his annoying(ly beautiful) face.
“and what are you gonna do?”
“hands. off.” lando stands up even straighter, looking bigger than you’ve ever seen him.
“okay, mate, whatever.” the stranger rolls his eyes, shoves your hand away.
lando turns to you, opening his mouth to speak when…
“keep that stuck up bitch all to yourself.”
and then, everything goes to shit.
lando whips around, fists are flying, the stranger topples to the ground, amassed to nothing in the face of the mclaren drivers rage. lando doesn’t stop there, makes sure he is sufficiently dealt with, flat on his back on the sticky floor. you don’t know what to do, calling out for lando, begging him to stop, as satisfied as you are. lando hears your shouts, pulled out of the chaos and back to you. always back to you.
“are you okay?” he has his hands on your face searching for any remaining fear or upset. a crowd has formed and you see alex and george towering above the other club goers, jaws agape.
it’s as if he dj has it out for you, and you realise that the song has changed to something moodier, slower, one that gives you whiplash.
even though we're going through it
and it makes you feel alone
just know that i would die for you
baby, i would die for you
“we need to get out of here. security are coming.” you mutter, keening into his touch.
“i have a car outside.”
“well, let’s use it then.”
-
you can’t help but stroke over his knuckles mindlessly in the car, an unlikely comfortable silence settling between you. they look raw, cracked slightly and you have an overwhelming desire to kiss them better. your head is fuzzy, and you’re unsettled with confusion, but at the same time, you feel lighter.
“why did you do that?” you murmur, disrupting the quiet that has settled over the backseat of the town car, the question burning desperately on your tongue.
lando turns his head so that he’s looking down at you, his good hand comes up to cup your jaw softly.
“no one can talk to you like that.” he’s staring so deeply into your eyes and you almost squirm at the intensity. you feel exposed, bare.
“but why did you step in before that?” you reiterate shakily. lando hums in understanding.
“i’ve known you since we were 10 years old. i know when you’re scared.” he whispers, breath dusting your cheeks. you almost lean in, then, something about his words pull you even closer towards him. you feel warmth creeping over your chest, sinking into the pit of your belly.
“we’ve arrived.” the driver calls from the front, signalling that you need to get out of the car. it was like an elastic band had snapped, and you spring away from lando, scrambling to undo your seat belt, the moment of weakness long gone.
you sneak into the lobby, on the lookout for any angry PR teams or incognito photographers that are scoping for their next pay check. the coast seems clear, so you manage to scurry discreetly into the elevator. you hit the button for the third floor.
“can you hit the button for five?” lando asks, leaning against the opposite wall.
“you’re coming to my room.” you state, offering no other explanation, even when he raises his eyebrows.
the ding of the lift has lando pushing himself off of the mirrored wall, trailing behind you into the corridor. the lights are low as he follows you to your door, hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. he watches in anticipation as you rifle through your small bag for your keycard. the green light gives you the go ahead to open the door, and he awkwardly follows you inside, peering around the room.
you notice the slight apprehension in his features, eyes blown wide from alcohol and adrenaline. they seem to sparkle more than you’d seen in a while, a hazel-y blue twisting with secrets and unspoken thoughts.
“let me find my first aid kit.” you tell him. you guide him towards the foot of your bed, gesture for him to sit. “make yourself comfortable.”
“you don’t need to do this.” lando replies, sitting down anyway.
“and you didn’t need to get between me and that dickhead but here we are.”
your words elicit a low chuckle from him, and you’re glad you have your back to him while you dig through your suitcase. he can’t see your smile at the wholesome sound, and he doesn’t need to.
random pieces of clothing fall out of the bag as you rummage through it, your attention taken up completely by your mission to find the small box. you don’t notice the pile of garments littering the floor.
“wow, didn’t take you for that kinda girl.” lando teases. your cheeks flame red when you catch sight of the cherry red thong that has managed to get caught in the wheel of your suitcase.
“shut up, i’m helping you.” you grumble, balling up the lace and burying it at the bottom of the case.
“why is it ferrari coloured? something you wanna tell me? do you think charles is… foxy? or is it fred? oh, i bet it’s fred, isn’t it.” he’s laughing now, loud and boisterous, and if it wasn’t for the butterflies erupting in your belly at the sound, you would have throttled him.
“i’ll leave you to bleed out.” you tease back, pointing at the dried up blood across his knuckles.
“of course, i am in urgent need of medical attention!” he exclaims sarcastically, clutching his hand. you roll your eyes.
“you know where the door is.” you stand from the floor, carrying a little square antiseptic wipe with you.
“yeah, i do. feel like staying now, though. i’m just so comfy.”
and with that, he throws himself back on your bed, closing his eyes as he sinks into the mattress.
you stare at him for a second, noticing the way his eyelashes dust the tops of his cheeks, his tanned, thick neck peeks out from in between the undone buttons of his dress shirt. you exhale shakily, moving to sit beside him on the bed.
“give me your hand.” you instruct him, tearing the packet open and unfolding the wipe.
“romantic.” lando snarks. you shove his shoulder in response. he holds his hand out.
“whatever.” you sigh, avoiding eye contact as you run the wipe over his knuckles. you can see how they are already tinged purple, wincing at the idea that it is your fault.
“what is it?” lando asks, noticing.
you don’t respond. this proximity is odd, you can’t quite tell yet if you like it. what you do know is that you certainly don’t know how to handle him now that the alcohol is wearing off and you’re left tending to the wounds of a man that you could have sworn you didn’t like.
“so that’s how it’s gonna be? we’re going back to the silent treatment again?” lando scoffs.
“don’t know what to say.” you mutter, keeping your eyes trained on every line and indent of his knuckles.
“why do you hate me so much?”
“i don’t.”
“yes, you do.” he scoffs.
“i don’t think about you enough to hate you.” you lie. it’s cruel. he winces.
that shuts him up.
“i’m gonna go. thanks for this.” lando waves his hand and you feel a wave of guilt hit.
“no, fuck, i’m sorry.” you apologise, bowing your head. “stay.”
“i’ll stay if you tell me why you hate me.”
“i’ve never hated you, lan. haven’t always particularly liked you but i never, ever hated you.”
“okay.”
that’s all it takes for him to flop back onto the bed. some unexplainable instinct that you loathe has you crawling onto the bed beside him. you wrap your arms around your pillow, watching him watch you.
“i used to have such a big crush on you, you know.” lando says. you stare at him blankly.
“what?”
“yep. i think i was about 15. you were the first girl i ever really liked that way.” he smiles, recalling the memory. “it kinda sucked because i knew you wouldn’t even look at me twice but it’s funny thinking back to that time.”
~ 15
he watches the way her hair gets caught in the breeze as she takes off her helmet. two messy braids are shaken free, and his heart skips a beat or two, or seven, when she turns around with the biggest grin on her face.
she’s just won a race, another one, and he’d be so jealous if it wasn’t her.
he thinks she’s the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. george and alex go over to her, congratulating her, hugging her. he wishes he could do that. he definitely can’t.
she doesn’t see him, the only times that she does are when they argue, when they push eachother off the track and scream at one another across a gravel trap. the times when she plants her pointed finger in his chest and calls him dirty, the times he gets heated and calls her something he doesn’t mean under his breath. and she always hears him. always. he watches her eyes pool with tears every single time.
he wants her, in a way he’s never wanted anyone before. he’s never felt like this, wonders how he can make it go away. she hates him. she must.
he can never have her, so why even try?
~
“i had no idea you ever felt that way.” you’re quite shocked, really. you knew that you had this intensely charged sexual tension between you now, but you had failed to realise how far back this all went.
mutually, at least.
“i’d say i’ve done a pretty good job of hiding it.” his smile changes slightly. it was now a sad smile, one that conveys disappointment in himself, and that you hated to see. it reminds you of the one you’ve gotten used to seeing on your social media feed after he’d had a shitty race.
you sigh, bracing yourself for what you are about to say.
“you’re not the only one who hid it.” you raise an eyebrow, your face says ‘guilty!’
“no?” lando’s eyes widen at your revelation.
“i think we were 13. you gave me half a cookie to apologise for pushing me off track.” you smile coyly. “it’s kinda sad but 13 year old me died inside.” you laugh.
“so, we’ve both… liked each other.” lando assesses. you nod.
“when did you stop?” you inquire, scanning his face. you take in each detail, each individual freckle, the curve of his lips. he seems closer, all of the sudden, and that’s when you realise you’ve closed the space between you. lando is within reach now, it would have been so, so incredibly easy to shift even closer still; it was like you were in his gravitational field, reeled in by pretty, pretty eyes.
“who said i stopped?”
“oh.” you breathe.
~ 13
he snaps the crumbly biscuit between his fingers, trails towards her awkwardly. he feels bad, feels a strange pang in his chest that he doesn’t recognise.
he finds her around the back of her parents car, arms crossed, eyebrows scrunched, pouting hard. he thinks she’s cute.
“why are you here?” she whines.
“this is for you. i know it doesn’t make up for the race. i didn’t mean to take you out, i swear.”
he sounds panicked, sincere. her tummy turns funny.
he’s holding out a cookie, the children’s equivalent of an olive branch.
her face softens. she accepts it. they bite into their cookies at the same time.
it’s not the worst day in the world anymore.
~
messy kisses and soft whispers lull you to sleep.
his nose bumps yours every time your lips meet, gentle and plush.
you feel delicate in his arms, treasured. his lips press gently to your hairline. he’s different, softer than you’ve seen him since you were teenagers splitting cookies.
it’s the easiest thing in the world to curl into his side, mould together until you’re part of him, and drift off.
-
the heat wakes you up.
you stir, eyes fluttering open, searching for the source of the onslaught of warmth. it clicks quickly, and you realise that you hadn’t dreamt the events of the night before.
lando is in your bed.
lando had protected you.
lando had wanted you since you were stupid kids who didn’t know any better.
he is the heater that had woken you up, and suddenly you don’t care that you’re far too hot. you curl back into his side, head rests on his chest. it rises and falls softly, his heartbeat thrums beneath your ear. you are jealous of how pretty he looks when he’s asleep, relaxed and infatuating. you lose track of time, gazing up at him.
a sharp pain in your side makes you groan. you had fallen asleep in your dress, lando in his jeans and his shirt, and now you’re paying for it, your fingers searching for the zipper that was now digging into your side. your movements draw him out of his slumber, and when you look back at him, he’s watching you, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“you okay?” lando croaks, his voice deep and sleepy. it sends shockwaves through you.
“mhm. how did you sleep?” you ask, mindlessly running your hand over his jaw like it was the most natural thing in the world. a smile breaks out across his face, eyes fluttering shut once more.
“really fucking well.” he laughs, almost in disbelief.
“yeah, me too.” you smile at him, shy.
“what’s bothering you?”
“well, a human heater woke me up and now this fucking zipper is killing me.” you joke. it’s weird that this doesn’t feel weird.
“i am pretty hot i guess.”
“yeah, yeah.” you roll your eyes and stand from the bed.
lando sits up, resting on his elbows. his eyes follow you as you walk around the room. you take a bottle of water, drinking half of it before passing it to him. his lips wrap around the bottle and you have to turn away, the ache between your legs that you’d been fighting for months rearing it’s irritating head. you clear your throat, composing yourself.
“need to get this dress off.”
lando pulls himself off of the mattress, stalking towards you. you stop in your tracks and he meets you at the foot of the bed. his hands find your cheeks, thumbs smoothing over your skin in little circles, and then kisses you deeper than he did last night.
it’s impossible not to melt into him, hands running over his chest, his shoulders, and finally finding solace tangled in his curls. if someone told you the morning before that you’d wake up in lando’s arms, you would have cackled, urged them to seek medical attention, and probably spat in their face. how things change.
“i think you should keep it on, look so pretty.” lando breathes, staring down at you. you blush hard, leaning into him.
“but i’m uncomfortable.” you grin coyly. and then, a surge of confidence has you whispering: “i’ll let you take it off if you want.”
“let me make you comfortable first.” lando murmurs, dipping his head down until it rests in the crook of your neck. “want me to get you nice and comfortable, baby?” he kisses up your neck.
you cave, finally.
it takes him all of thirty seconds to have you spread out on his face, laying himself down on the mattress and pulling you on top of him so that you’re hovering over his lips. he mouthes at your panties for a second, getting his first taste of you, and then he drags them to the side, clearing a path. his tongue laves over your cunt, groaning as soon as he gets a proper taste.
your dress fans out over your thighs, and lando has disappeared beneath the fabric. you can tell he’s there, though, by the strong hands gripping onto your thighs, the tuft of curls peeking out, and the feeling of his nose bumping your clit as he buries his face deeper and deeper between your folds.
“lando.” you cry, throwing your head back. the straps of your dress are slipping down your arms, skimming your goosebump ridden skin. he just groans into your pussy in response, pulling you impossibly closer to his mouth, backwards and forwards until you’re grinding down on his willing tongue. you reach down blindly, grabbing one of his hands where it rests on your thigh, and your other threads through his hair, gripping tight as you revel in the pleasure.
lando pulls your clit between his teeth, grazing over the bud and you’re jolting, writhing above him. you feel like you’re going to die, heat pricking all over your skin, your tummy tight from the building orgasm. he’s so eager, sliding his entire face through your slippery folds, obscene sounds falling from his lips that ricochet through your quivering body.
tears prick your eyes when you finally let go, slumping forwards from the overwhelming sensation taking over every single nerve. he lifts you off of him, laying you back on the bed as you come down from your high.
“you okay, baby?” he coos, brushing sweat dampened hair from your eyes.
his lips are stained, dark pink and shiny, a mixture of enthusiasm and your slick coating them. lando scans your watery eyes, feral at how fucked out you look all because of him, and tantalisingly licks his lips.
“need you.” you moan, reaching out for him. his shirt is wrinkled where he’d slept in it and your shaky hands find the few buttons that are actually done up. you push the material off of his shoulders, pupils blown wide at the sight of his toned chest, at the feel of smooth, golden skin. you pull him in by the shoulders, swallowing him whole as you kiss him with everything you’ve got left.
lando’s hands find your thighs once more, running his hands over them to push your dress up your hips.
“wanted this for so long.” he whispers into the kiss, pulling away so that he can take the dress off of you. he looks ravenous the more he pushes the fabric up your body.
you feel vulnerable under his intense gaze, watchful eyes taking in every movement you make. you try to pull him back in for another kiss but he resists.
“let me look at you, please?” lando asks. “there you go, baby, let’s get this off, hmm?” he sits you up so that he can get it over your head, and you lay back, bare aside from your panties that he’d left in disarray.
he sucks in a breath, raking his eyes over the curve of your lips, your collarbone, the slope of your breasts. his gaze lingers there for just a second, before continuing further over your belly, the length of your legs. you want to hide away, pull him in so that he can’t look at you like this, or just dive under the duvet and stay there until you need to catch your flight.
“god, you’re so, so fucking beautiful.” he gasps, awestruck. he sounds speechless, and you feel yourself going red again.
“come here.” you whine. “needed you for so long.”
your admission seems to kick him into action, because seconds later, he’s on top of you, fingers grazing the band of your underwear while you fiddle with the button on his jeans.
“gonna be good for me, aren’t you?” lando stares you down, tone sending a shiver down your spine. you nod, batting your eyelashes. “words, my love.”
“yes, lando.” you affirm, arching into him. that’s all he needs to know, kicking his jeans away, boxers too.
“good girl. took care of me so well last night, now ‘m gonna take such good care of you.”
your eyes skim his body, honing in on how hard he is. your hand finds his cock, tentative at first, stroking over it softly. it’s heavy in your hands, red and dripping already. he wants this just as bad as you do. you continue to jerk him off, watching the way his eyes squeeze shut and his lips part, soft pants falling out. a low hum sounds from the back of his throat, and you wet your lips, threading your free hand through his hair.
lando opens his eyes at the sensation, gently batting your hand away. he dips down even closer, resting on one of his forearms. he lines himself up and your legs wrap around him instinctively. slowly, he pushes inside of you, his breath catching in his throat.
“fucking hell.” he groans, deep and guttural, something carnal sending shockwaves through his body. “been dreaming about all the ways i’d get to fuck you.”
your eyes roll back and you go languid in his arms, feeling every inch of him slide against your slick walls.
“want you.” you rasp, clinging to him, your fingernails leaving patterns between his taut shoulder blades as you beg for it.
“you have me, baby.” and then he kisses you, messy and slow, stealing the air from your lungs. you’re dizzy when he pulls away, sitting back slightly to change the angle. you cry out, feeling him even deeper and everything is more sensitive, warm. you roll your hips, meeting his thrusts deliciously, and he chokes out a moan as you clamp around him. “yeah, that’s it. fuck yourself like that for me.” he encourages.
this is all too much, too good. you have whiplash, physically and emotionally, eyes pooling with tears as the man you’d wanted so badly that you hated him for it rocks into you. lando hits the right spot every time he pistons his hips harder, and his nimble fingers slide up your abdomen, applying light pressure to your navel that makes you writhe.
“fucking perfect for me. gorgeous.” lando slurs, entranced by the sight of where you’re joined. he can see just how wet you are and it drives him insane, barrelling into you like a man possessed, drunk on every single way that your body responds to him.
his wandering hand finds your breast, kneading it before he traces your nipple. he watches the way it hardens at his manipulation, wetting his lips. he collapses back on top of you, sucking the bud into his mouth. you’re panting, whining beneath him as his tongue swirls over your chest, switching to the other side. you jolt, a silent scream scratching your throat when he slips his hand between your thighs, working your clit with the pad of his thumb. he’s rutting against you, grinding deeper, faster, uncontrollably.
“come on, baby. you’re so close, so tight for me.” he mutters into your skin. you nod frantically, your words lost on you. he kisses over your collarbone, the base of your throat, until he finds your lips.
“so close.” you sigh.
he stops.
“tell me you’re all mine.” lando growls, his entire demeanour changing. the tone of his voice almost finishes you off but you’re suddenly enraged. you’re too close for him to stop.
“c’mon lando.” you hiss, trying to move your hips but he has you firmly in place.
“need to hear you say it.” his hand slithers over your chest, finding a new home at the base of your throat. it makes you throb, the way his thick fingers wrap around you. slowly, his grip tightens, and you see an opportunity.
you buck your hips hard, whimpering at the sensation, but your plan works and now you hover over him. he’s still buried inside you, and you can feel him pulsing as you steal control.
“for once in your life, honey, shut the fuck up.” you smirk, mischievous in victory.
slowly, you build up your rhythm. he feels bigger like this, deeper, and you almost lose yourself in the small circles you make with your hips.
“knew you’d be like this. you liked giving yourself to me but i just knew you’d need to take back control.” lando teases. his hand is back around your neck, squeezing slowly, and you grind frantically, dizzy for him. “i was right last night, wasn’t i, baby? pretending to be my good girl when really,” he pulls you down so that you’re chest to chest. “you’re just a fucking brat.”
lando holds you close as he fucks up into you, feeling the way you go limp on top of him as the pleasure washes over you like a million electric shocks. you’re crying, tears pooling on his chest, because there is nothing you can do, nothing you want to do, but take it. he’s got you right where he wants you, and you’re loving every fucking second of it.
“yeah, baby, take it how you want it.” lando commands through gritted teeth, and you move your hips in a feeble attempt to match his speed. everything is slippery, everything feels wet and flushed.
the power play, the position, the frenzy he seems to be in as he fucks you, it all has you gushing, spilling all over him. you choke out a sob, shuddering as the elastic band in your belly snaps. lando stops his thrusts, replacing them with small rolls of his hips to help you through your orgasm.
a sharp breath and a string of curses from him give you the strength to muster the last little bits of energy you have left to look up at him. you pull your head up off of his chest just in time to watch him shatter into a million little pieces.
his neck flexes as his head rolls back, sinking into the pillow, his eyes tight. swollen lips part and your name falls from between them like a prayer. you can feel him filling you up, his hands tightening their hold on your hips like he’s scared to let go, like the world will stop if he does.
the world stops anyway, because then you’re looking at each other. really looking at each other.
it only takes a second for you to be drawn in and his hands leave your hips to cup your face. his calloused hands feel your skin, stroking over rosy patches on your cheeks. it’s deathly silent all around you, apart from the breathless pants you share.
swollen lips crash hard into yours and you melt. he’s still buried so deeply inside of you, your hips digging into his, impossibly close. you’re blindly reaching for any part of him you can get your hands on, and his big hands slide down your body until they meet the small of your back. ever so carefully, he flips you onto your back, easing your spent body into the mattress.
lando collapses on top of you, mouthes at your neck for a moment, delicate kisses making your eyes flutter shut. the eye contact almost sends you into cardiac arrest as he pulls out, oh so slowly. tease.
he holds you close in the shower, fingers massaging every part of you. sex and sweat are washed away, almost lovingly. you let the water run for far too long, content in clinging to him. it’s quiet, reflective time for both of you, exactly what it needs to be. you’re both hung up on questions that need to be asked, neither one of you brave enough to take the first steps. you know one thing, and one thing only: something has changed, in a forever kind of way.
your hair is stringy, half dry, and you’re stood in your underwear. your legs are still shaky.
“your flight soon?” lando asks. he’s stood in his boxers on the other side of the room, scrunching the water out of his curls.
“yeah.” your throat feels raw.
“and you’re going back to monaco?” he’s stopped what he’s doing now, staring at you. you can see the cogs turning behind his eyes.
you nod.
“fancy a sleepover?” he grins, boyish and careless. your heart falls to your feet.
you’re giggling when he sweeps you into his arms and kisses you into the freshly made bed. the sheets are on the floor by the time you finally remember you have a flight to catch.
you’re his now, you realise. he’s too beautiful for his own damn good.
-
“baby?” you hear lando call from his bedroom. you make out the faint sound of his footsteps making their way in your direction. he appears before you can even answer him, and he’s smiling softly at the sight of you bundled up in a blanket, sprawled across his couch.
“what is it?” you ask. the next thing you know he’s on top of you, peppering kisses over every single inch of skin he can get to on your face. “hey, get off, muppet.” you whine playfully, ruffling his hair.
“do you know how much i love having you here?” he murmurs. it’s endearing as fuck and you fight a foolish, dopey grin.
“you’ve mentioned once or twice…” you’ve been here since your flight touched down a week ago. you haven’t even been home to get clothes, not that you needed them in his company.
“we might have a teeny, tiny issue.” he squints, pulling a face.
“and what’s that?” you ask, your voice measuring equal parts cautious and amused.
“so, alex called…”
“oh, shit.”
“we have to go to dinner tonight.”
“we have to?”
“he’s suspicious as fuck. you do realise they’ve been plotting for us to happen for years,” you roll your eyes as if you say duh. “and also, you’ve been in monaco for a week and haven’t seen him once. oh, and also, the last time we saw them, we were running away from a fucking crime scene.” lando smiles sarcastically, and you sigh, defeated.
before you can reply, your phone is ringing somewhere beside you. you root around in your blanket searching for it and when you find it:
“son of a bitch.” you exclaim, showing lando the caller ID. alex is one persistent motherfucker.
“hey girl.” alex singsongs down the phone before you can even say hello.
“hello to you too.” you can hear the fear in your own voice.
“dinner. tonight. although, i’m sure lando already told you.” alex teases.
“why would lando have told me? what?” you choke. lando slaps his hand over his face. your voice has gone up several octaves. not suspicious at all.
“so, you’re at home? you haven’t been at his place since last week?” the playful interrogation begins.
“why would i be with lando?” you try and feign disgust at the implication. it does not work.
“because you hate fucked after he beat up that perv? i have to say, i didn’t think he had it in him but he’s been in love with you since he was like, ten, so, you know-”
“bye alex.”’
“you’re not denying it-“
“bye alex!”
you’re flaming red when you throw the phone to the other end of the sofa. lando, as on brand as ever, is cackling into a pillow.
“he is such a fucking shit stirrer.” you bury your face in your hands, slumping back into the fuzzy cushions.
“well, he’s right about one thing.” lando trails off. suddenly he’s looking anywhere but you and you see him gulp, hard, swallowing his words, like he’s too afraid to bare his soul.
“huh?” you ask gently, sitting up to reach out for him. “what’s wrong?”
“we need to get ready for dinner. that’s what he’s right about.” lando says, standing from the sofa and walking towards his room. you’re suspicious, watching him go with furrowed eyebrows.
-
“lando, behave! you’re the one making me go to this dinner.” you squeal, batting his restless hands away.
you’ve made it as far as the elevator before he pounces on you, caging you in against the metal walls.
“but you look so good, can’t help myself.” he mutters between kisses on your neck, pressing himself even further into you.
the hand that finds it’s way between your legs, exploring beyond the hem of your skirt, is the one that makes you press the button for his floor. why have plans when you can have sex?
he gets through the door to his apartment at lighting speed and carries you all the way to his bed.
when you’re sweating and breathless a good hour later, half of the bedding on the floor with your clothes, you realise you never cancelled your plans.
lando is drawing shapes into the bare skin of your arm, kissing over your shoulder as he does so. his eyes are dropping from all of the over-exertion and you want to count each and every freckle on his face while he falls asleep. he’s cute like this, soft and yours.
and idea comes to your mind, and as if he can see the lightbulb, lando half raises an eyebrow at you. you giggle, somewhat evilly perhaps, and scramble for your phone on the beside table.
“what’re you doing?” lando groans, pouting as his outstretched arms try to find you.
“getting even.” you state.
with the phone in your clutches, you roll back over towards him, holding the camera above you both. he hears the shutter sound as you snap the picture, and peers closer to see the screen. when he sees the groupchat open, he quickly understands what you’re plotting.
“may i?” you ask for his consent.
“are you kidding? go for it. that’ll shut them up.” he laughs sleepily, muttering something about how this is the most lando thing you’ve ever done
FROM: you
TO: the groupchat
1 image attached
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couldn’t make dinner. something came up xx
“alex always thinks he’s right, this’ll teach him for being such a little shit.” you flop back into bed even more satisfied than you were before.
you hear lando inhale shakily beside you.
“he is right sometimes you know.” he repeats his earlier words.
you hold your breath. his eyes say so many things that are too delicate to be spoken yet.
“like… like what he said on the phone?” your voice quivers with anticipation, fear. your heart is thunderous, hammering away like it wants to escape the clutches of its cage.
“yeah. i-“ he stops himself. you don’t need him to finish, you know which two words follow. they can follow in good time, you both know it.
“me too, lando.” you coo.
he’s beaming, eyes half shut. you watch as he falls asleep, the both of you ignoring the way your phones are vibrating so aggressively that they might buzz their way off of the night stand. you lose count of his freckles, but it doesn’t matter.
you’ll have plenty of time to figure it out.
-
let me know what you think :D
-
taglist
@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @spideylovin
(i ran out of tags omg? whoops) lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3
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writingoddess1125 · 7 months
Text
You tell the Old Men you're Pregnant + Extra
Shanks, Buggy, Mihawk
Just Fluffy Fluff!
Also to those who are saying "They aren't even old!" Blah Blah- I know. I'm using Old Ironically cause it's funny. Middle Aged just don't have the same ring to it and I would/could sub in DILF but I was trying to be good.
Anywho! Enjoy!!
Shanks
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So drinking and unprotected sex can lead to pregnancy- who knew... Panicking yoh decide its best to just rip that bandage off.
"Shanks- I'm pregnant"
Shanks will stare at you for a while, before starting to laugh- Hard. He will bend over laughing as his panic response sets in-
"Shanks this isn't funny! I-"
He grabs your hand and pulls you close as he held you still laughing now much softer.
"You're the best things that has ever happened to me-" He will whisper in your ear and hold you close.
This man acts like he can shit gold and piss roses when he finds out your pregnant. Nothing can get him down or damper his mood.
Even though you are miserable and sick most of this pregnancy- for almost the whole length of your pregnancy you are vomiting or nauseous so Shanks has to make you eat and buys things to help you.
"Shanks I'm not hungry..." You grumble as you sit on the bed. Shanks hanging you a cup of tea and some soft bread.
"I know love- But you haven't had anything solid in 3 days. Let's get this bread a try?" He says softly, You nodding and eating what you could and sipping of the flowery tea.
He will eventually find something that you can eat without getting sick and buy as much of it as possible. He may grow tired of the smell but will never complain.
When you go into labor he is still a little too excited at the prospect of his child being brought into the world. Will comfort you the whole way through but is more interested in seeing his child.
Buggy
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It was a complete accident- You blamed the trip to the hot springs two months previously.. being pregnant with Buggy's child was definitely not what you had planned for yourself or him.
"Buggy I'm pretty sure I'm um.. pregnant"
You beeak it to him after a good day and even set out his favorite sweets to try and make this as soft as possible. Buggy just stares at you, His face completely unreadable as he just stares at you.
"Buggy?..." You are now anxious as he stays silent and stone faced- However he walks over to you lightly and just wraps his arms around you. Not saying a word but you can feel how tense his body is- He's scared?...
"We will be fine.. All of us. How do you feel about it?..." He will mumbled- This being so different to how he normally is as he is feeling scared in a new way.
After the initial shock of it all he will be so over the top its not even funny. You might as well be made out of glass and carrying a paper child cause that's how he treats you. Infront of the crew while he is less likely to be as openly affectionate he is still just as protective.
Understands physical insecurities so will never insult or even bring up your appearance as your body goes through changes. Hell have mercy on the person who even accidently hints at your bigger weight since he will go ape-shit and throw the biggest tantrum of all temper tantrums before brutally killing whoever said it.
He is very Very touchy- his hand has to always be on you at all times and so his detached hand has been known to stay either on your lower back, or on your arm like some horror themed arm band.
In private he is very thoughtful especially as you get near the due date.
"Sorry pressure" You hissed in discomfort rolling to your side to receive some pressure from your back. Buggy getting up calmly and moving you to stand on your feet. Which was definently not something you wanted-
That was till Buggy stood behind you as his hand detached and went under your large belly gently listing it up which relived the pressure from your back. You sigh and lean against him as he does this. Will hold you stomach up for a solid hour ignoring the sorness in his hands for you-
Will feed you constantly any food he can find, Anything you want he has made for you. If a food makes you sick magically the plate seems to be thrown out to open sea.
Will also be an emotional wreck when his children are born- If you are angry at him or scream while in labor he will take it- if not give a few quips back. However all is forgotten once the kids arrive.
Mihawk
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While you believe it was an accident- It was not by Mihawks standards. He has been planning this for months since you are the only one he sees worthy of officially carrying his children.
"Mihawk I'm pregnant" You say bracing for at least a level of irritation but instead he looked pleased. Reaching a hand out to caress your belly and stare at you fondly.
"I am happy to hear that"
Will take blame in saying he must have not been careful and that its too late now and will be happy to take full and total responsibility.
Is a textbook kind of man so will have book pages memorized on what you should be doing. How many more calories needed for the baby, stretches, the healthiest food. Aka he's fucking annoying-
You will be in the kitchen with a fork in a cake eating, feeling the wave of low blood sugar that has clouded your mind and tired of the veggies or fresh fruit that Mihawk had shoved down your throat- Mid bite the cake was pulled away by Mihawk.
"It is bad for you to have-" Will pause at your glare as you step very close to him, Grabbing his beard with iron clasp hands and yank him down to your level which make his eyes go wide.
"Mihawk... If you don't hand over that cake- I'm going to take your sword and shove it so far up your ass that the handle will be in your mouth" You all but hiss, Making Mihawk lower the cake down and hand it to you silently.
Will learn that maybe not everything has to go to textbook. Despite being a bit of a hardass for your safety he will give you massages, rub your feet help decorate to your liking. If you're sick will help you the entire time in getting better.
Rubs lotion on any tender spots or stretch marks and hums a tune you've never heard before.
Will be there with every step of the way during the labor. Supportive and comforting the whole time his child is being brought into the world, If complications will be a rock for you and will pick you if it came down to it.
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lemonlover1110 · 5 months
Text
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬
Satoru Gojo
[Chapter 16] Justifications
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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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Mrs. Gojo’s first reaction to finding her son in the hospital room isn’t one of worry– Rather, she’s curious. She wonders if you told him; she doubts you’re dumb enough to actually tell him, but he got here somehow. Instead of wondering how he found out, she should worry about how she’ll explain everything to her son. She can’t just throw you under the bus… Well, she can but it wouldn’t be right for her to do so.
Satoru is sitting down, his hands on his knees as he looks around the room. He contemplates everything. He questions every single relationship that he has. Shoko knew, and his mother, but who else? How many people are betraying him? How many people know the fact that he has a son? 
The man is nauseous at the mere thought that they faced him as if they weren’t hiding something that could turn Satoru’s life upside down. He hears his mother’s heels as she walks towards him but he can’t bring himself to look up at her. He’s never had a close bond with his mother, and at times he’s hated her presence; but nothing compares to now. Satoru has never hated being her son until now. 
“Satoru.” She doesn’t try to soften her voice when she talks to him. She probably should. She feels the hatred that radiates off her son, and she knows that maybe she should console him. She’s mostly at fault for how things played out. “How did you end up here?”
“That’s what you say.” His voice breaks and he takes a deep breath to compose himself. He won’t start crying in front of his mother, she doesn’t have to know how heartbroken he is. She should have an idea though because it’s no easy feat. “You knew about my son, you hid him from me on purpose, you let me find out on my own and your response is that.”
She stays quiet. Satoru will continue speaking and she won’t interrupt until he lets it all out. “I always knew you weren’t a star mother, but this? You’re the worst mother I’ve come across. You hid my son from me, and for what? Because you didn’t want your ideal plans to go to the trash?”
“You’re almost twenty-seven and you act like a child. You wouldn’t have been able to step up to the role. I did what was best for you, and for Ren and his mother.” She argues and he feels his blood boil. He’s never been so mad in his life.
“I wouldn’t have been like you. I wouldn’t have thrown my son to the help and let them raise him. I’m nothing like you, I would’ve been able to step up to the role. Ren would’ve actually felt me being present, and I would’ve loved him as much as I possibly could.” Satoru’s nails dig into the fabric of his pants. “No one is ready to be a parent. You learn along the way. I would’ve and am going to try my best, the same way you should’ve.”
“If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have your precious job title, Satoru. Watch how you talk to me.” She warns him, ignoring the guilt that runs through her veins. She focuses more on the fact that her son gives her attitude. 
“This is what you wanted! You didn’t tell me because you knew I’d give up everything for him. I knew you were fucked up but to this extent? You’re a wretched woman, I’m ashamed to call you my mother.” Satoru raises his voice, and silence follows. She doesn’t know how to answer. Satoru clears his throat, “For how long have you known? For how long have you known I have a son?”
“Almost a year.” She confesses, and maybe Satoru would’ve easily let it slide if it was something more recent. Well, she hired you for a reason, she’s known for as long as you’ve been working with her. Satoru takes a deep breath, trying his best to hold back the tears that fill up his eyes. 
“Shoko knows. She told me. Who else knows?” He asks, speaking slowly to contain his feelings. She shrugs, she doesn’t know who else knows. 
“I have no idea. I didn’t know Shoko knew.” She responds, walking over to stand next to Satoru. He glares at her, standing up. He can’t stand to breathe the same air as her for another moment. She watches him walk away and she asks, “What are you doing? Now is not the time to throw a tantrum.”
“A tantrum?! You hid my son from me and you’re calling this a tantrum?!” He yells. “You’ve known about my son for a year, you asked for him to be kept from me, and you’re calling this a tantrum? You’re fucking unbelievable. This is all your fault. You’ve been set on making me miserable ever since I was born.”
“Calm down, Satoru.” She says, and Satoru has to take another deep breath. He doesn’t even know how to respond to her. How dare she even suggest that? She must be out of her damn mind– No, she’s evil. He’s convinced she’s fucking evil.
“I’ll never forgive you for this. This is so fucked up, even for you.” Satoru steps out of the room. He needs a breath of fresh air, and he needs to take it all in. Gather his thoughts. 
He’s a father. He’s been one for the past four years. How does he handle it all? His mother betrayed him in the worst possible way. You betrayed him the worst possible way. But Satoru can somewhat understand why you stayed quiet. Not her though. Both reasons are selfish, but her selfishness is pure evil. 
“Satoru.” He hears your mother, and he stops walking. The tears that he’s been holding back finally slip out, and he wipes them away as your mother walks to him. Her hand goes to his arm and she squeezes it as a form of reassurance. “Let’s go grab a coffee, there’s a coffee shop nearby that’s open.”
“Yeah.” He tries to talk normally, and she gently smiles at him. They walk outside and Satoru follows your mother’s lead to the coffee shop. They walk in silence, and when they get there, Satoru pays for coffee for the both of them.
Once the coffee is in their hands, they sit in silence at a table. They came here to talk, yet Satoru is not going to spark up the conversation– At least Satoru assumes that they came here to talk. Your mother clears her throat, “I hope you can forgive my daughter for this… At the very least see her point of view.”
“I’ll try at the very least… I just thought she would try to tell me. I’m disappointed… and feel betrayed.” Satoru confides. He’s always felt like he could talk to your mother, she’s always been someone he can trust. He never went to his own mother for help, instead he went to yours. “I would’ve done anything for Ren, she knows I’ve always wanted to have a kid.”
“I remember the day my little girl called crying, telling me she was pregnant. Her boyfriend just broke up with her and she didn’t know how to tell him. You were out of town, your mother fired me– I told my daughter I quit, but it wasn’t that. Your mother didn’t want me around, she started hating me the moment my daughter started to date you,” Your mother begins and Satoru listens attentively. 
“She tried to tell you, Satoru. You changed your number. You completely cut her off. She went to your house, and guess what your mother said to my pregnant daughter?”
“That I got married.” Satoru mutters, looking away since he’s too ashamed to look her in the eye. 
“And you know the damage that caused? She cried for weeks, but she managed to move on. She couldn’t dwell on you forever because she had a son to be responsible for. Maybe she should’ve told you when she saw you, but I understand she didn’t need you anymore.” 
“I didn’t get married because–” Satoru begins but your mother cuts him off. She doesn’t want to hear any justifications, she really doesn’t see any response that will make her feelings change.
“I don’t care why the hell you got married. I was rooting for you, Satoru. I was rooting for the two of you, but you showed me that you’re just like your selfish entitled family. You made me change my mind, you’re the last person I want near my daughter and my grandson.” Her words sting more than anyone’s because the woman that sits across from him practically raised him. “But I guess I have no other option. You are Ren’s father.”
“I’m sorry.” He murmurs, causing her brows to raise.
“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” She answers before standing up. Satoru watches as she walks away, biting his quivering bottom lip. He shuts his eyes, trying not to begin crying in front of everyone. 
He’s tired. He should probably go home and take a nap, but he promised his son he’d be there when he wakes up. So he won’t leave until Ren sees him. Satoru stands up and goes back to the hospital.
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You don’t talk to each other when you’re with Ren. Ren is filled with love, from both of his parents and grandmothers. He’s never been with them all at the same time, and he’s excited to be with them all even when he isn’t feeling too well. His father seems to have a lot of questions though, but Ren likes the attention.
Ren gets to talk about his birthday (which surprises Satoru since they have the same birthday), his favorite color, his favorite show, his favorite toys, what he does when mommy is not home, what he does when mommy is home; Satoru tries to get to know all about Ren in a couple hours to make up for the past four years of his life. Satoru is overwhelmed with sadness, yet he’s never felt so happy before as he sits on an armchair, next to his baby boy. Ren holds his father’s hand, smiling when he’s never felt worse before. He’s just happy to meet the man that he’s been asking about.
Satoru spends the entire afternoon there, listening to Ren’s every request. He expected to spend the first day with his son in the hospital but not under these conditions. Regardless, Ren could be a newborn or a four-year-old, Satoru loves him either way. 
Ren yawns, and Satoru sheepishly smiles. He kisses the top of his son’s head. “How about you go to bed, buddy? You’re tired.”
“I don’t want you to go.” Ren says, and Satoru squeezes his hand. You swear you hear your heart break as you hear Ren’s words. You definitely fucked up.
“I’m not leaving, Ren. I’ll be by your side when you wake up, I promise.” Satoru assures him, and the man stays by his side until Ren finally falls asleep. Satoru doesn’t let go of Ren’s hand. You sit in silence for a moment as you try to decide what you’ll do next. Should you speak? Maybe you should… But what should you say? Maybe you should apologize, but you don’t have the guts to do it. 
“Who else knows?” Satoru whispers, not wanting to wake Ren up. He doubts that Ren will be waking up any time soon though, no matter how loud he is.
“Shoko and Suguru. And everyone that works at your house.” You answer. “I asked them not to tell, and I lied to Suguru so don’t be mad at them.”
“Did you… At least try to argue with my mother about telling me?” He hopes that you’ll say yes, so at the very least he can feel like you care about his feelings. He wants to hear that you tried a bit more. He’s filled with disappointment when you shake your head. He looks away from you, and back at Ren.
“How are you going to tell your wife?” You ask, and Satoru shrugs. That isn’t his main problem right now. Sayo can wait.
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etherealyoungk · 2 months
Text
new beginnings - jeon wonwoo
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summary: in which a certain someone starts getting extra clingy to you, leading you to find out you're pregnant.
pairing: husband!wonwoo x fem!reader
themes: established relationship, terms of endearment, pregnancy, fluffy, comfort
warnings: reader is pregnant, mentions of nausea, throwing up, anxiety, vague mentions of intimate relations, cats
wordcount: 2.1 k
a/n: just a random idea i had and thought might be cute
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you come home a bit later than usual, the smell of something delicious wafting in the air, welcoming you as you step inside your cozy home. you walk in and spot wonwoo in the kitchen, busy stirring something in a pot as you discard your bag on the couch, spotting oreo, wonwoo's cat curled up on the other end in a peaceful slumber.
you slowly make your way towards wonwoo. "hey", you say, as you stand next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder. "hi love", he responds immediatily as he presses a soft kiss to your temple as you nod. "long day?", he asks, taking in your tired expression as you nod your head.
"you're home early", you point out, as you hook your arm around his, watching him stir the pot of soup carefully so that the ingredients wouldn't stick to the bottom and burn.
"yeah, i wanted to surprise you", he says, looking at you. you smile at his words and he smiles back at you. you let go of his arm and busy yourself with setting up the table. you and wonwoo had sweet love story and were now living a happy married life, and you couldn't ask for anyone else to spend it with. wonwoo was just your person and you were his.
but wonwoo's cat on the other hand was another story. you could say that she didn't really have a thing for you. oreo had never bonded with you, and you were only allowed to give her the occasional pet before she'd walk off, uninterested in you. orea never got cuddly with you like she did with wonwoo. you were bummed at first but you decided that maybe she'd grow into you later it. but it looked like you were just going to be a side character to her.
wonwoo asks you about your day as you both eat, but he's also acutely aware of how little food you've served yourself and how you've barely touched the soup he made. "not hungry?", he prompts after a while. "i am, i'm just a little tired", you tell, feeling a bit bad because wonwoo had made your favorite soup and you barely felt like eating it. you force yourself to have at least a few spoonfuls of the spoon and finish up your rice.
it's two am and you wake up feeling nauseous so you sit up, hoping that would ease the feeling but it didn't. it was like wonwoo was so in tune with you that he could always tell when you're awake and you heard him stir beside you. "are you okay love?", he asks, his voice laced with sleep.
"just a little nauseous", you tell softly, feeling umcomfortable.
"should i make you some peppermint tea?", he asks, now sitting up beside you. he doesn't wait for your answer as he heads to the kitchen to make it for you regardless. he comes up and places the steaming mug of peppermint tea on your bedside table, as he sits down next to you. his hand finds yours as he laces his fingers in your hand, looking at you, worried. after a few sips of the tea, you feel slightly better and you're now cuddled in wonwoo's arms as you lay your head on his chest, his hands holding you safe from the world.
you feel the bed dip again as oreo, wonwoo's cat jumps on the bed, walking towards you both. you look at her, ready for her to go towards wonwoo but instead, she comes up to you and settles next to you. "baby are you seeing this", you tell, shocked. "looks like she's finally warming up to you", he jokes and it was like oreo understood and she meows as she looks at you before curling up beside you.
you fall asleep only to wake up an hour late as you rush into the bathroom and throw up, feeling horrible and absolutely terrible. you feel wonwoo's hand on your back a few moments later as he rubs it gently to help you. he then helps you up and you clean yourself up before he helps you back in bed.
that whole week, you battle with nausea, throwing up either in the morning or night, and feeling tired and fatigued all of a sudden. you try to brush it off, blaming it on the stress or just the flu, but wonwoo insists on going to the doctor to figure out what is going on.
you take a sick leave the next day and you're sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone when oreo comes up to you again, sitting on your stomach, giving you a little meow as she closes her eyes and goes into her meditation. you smile, feeling like you were being blessed by her presence lately. she'd started to get cuddly with you the past week and you were surprised but happy because otherwise you were going to think she was going to hate you forever.
you're aimlessly scrolling through your phone when you come across a video of a cat sitting on a lady, much like how oreo was sitting on you and as the video goes on, the lady explains how she found out she was pregnant because her cat started to get extra cuddly with her. your brain pauses and you glance at oreo, who's in a peaceful slumber on your stomach. you quickly open google, typing in if cats can tell if a person is pregnant and you gulp as you read articles and information that shows up and things slowly start adding up in your mind. this would explain all the nausea, the weird mood swings you've been having and the fatigue you've been experiencing the past two weeks. oh my god.
you gently move oreo off you, apologising to her as you grab a coat and slip on your shoes, heading to the nearest pharmacy to buy a pregnancy test. you buy two to give yourself the benefit of the doubt and now you're in your bathroom as you wait for the results of pregnancy tests. you stand a few steps back, nervous to see the results.
sure, you and wonwoo had talked about having kids of your own and it was something you both did want. you both had also taken care and been careful whenever you were intimate with each other. but now as you stand in the bathroom all alone, a feeling of dread engulfs you and pools in your stomach. you move towards the countertop and look at yourself in the mirror. it was going to be okay you thought ou close your eyes and take a deep breath and you finally find the courage to look down at the pregnancy tests laid out in front of you. you blink down as you see two lines on them bioth and let out a shaky breath as you try to ground yourself.
you didn't tell wonwoo that evening, still trying to take everything in but mostly because you didn't know how to. you were unsure and scared. but when he comes home tonight, you can't seem to hold onto this secret anymore as it seems to be eating you alive. when he comes home later that evening, you're quick to greet him as he shrugs off his blazer, his eyes lighting up when he sees you. you give him a kiss as you ask him about his day. he walks into the bedroom to change and you follow him. "what's going on in that pretty little mind of yours", he asks as he loosens his tie and takes off his watch. "how do you know something is going on?", you ask. "because you only follow me around when you have something you want to get off your chest", he tells, coming towards you. you find it sweet that he's picked up on his piece of information and observed, he knew you too well.
"okay fine, i do have something to tell you", you say finally as you move closer to wonwoo. you look up at him and he patiently waits for you to speak. but as you're looking at him and trying to find the right words and how to get them out, you find yourself getting overwhelmed with emotion all of a sudden and you're tearing up. your gaze flickers to the side of the room and down before you look back up but wonwoo is keen to pick up on his.
"what's wrong sweetheart?", he asks as you try with all your might to hold the tears in, trying to blink back your tears, but you can't and they flow down your cheeks and before you know it you're crying. wonwoo pulls you into his arms, his hand running up and down your back softly in an attempt to soothe you. "did something happen?", he asks, worried as his gaze softens.
you sniffle as you look at him, still in his arms. "no- i-i- don't know why i'm crying god i feel like an idiot", you tell as wonwoo cups your face, gently wiping away your tears with his thumb. "you're not", he assures you and he holds your gaze as he looks at you sweetly, not forcing you to say anything.
he gently moves you to the bedside and sits you down looking at you deeply, a hit of worry laced in his gaze. you'd been off this entire week and he was worried.
"are you okay?", he asks again, gently as he looks at you, his hand intertwined in yours.
"i-im pregnant", you finally tell softly and in the quiet room it was like your words echoed in the air. wonwoo blinks at you and you can see the wave of emotion he goes through.
"i took a pregnancy test, two in fact and they both came back positive", you add, looking at wonwoo to see his reaction.
"you're pregnant", he repeats like he was testing how the words would sound on his lips. "we're pregnant", he says again and you nod.
"i'm pregnant", you tell, tearing up again. "we're pregnant", you say again.
you find yourself tearing up again and wonwoo cups your cheek. "but what if i'm not ready, i'm scared", you add softly and wonwoo is quick to embrace you in another hug.
"i think, no i know that you're going to be a great mother love", he tells. "and remember, you're not alone in this, i'm right here and i'll be here with you every step of the way", he adds as he hugs you tighter.
you pull away, looking at him and you smile. "i love you", you say. " i love you more", he says, making you smile.
"i can't believe we're going to be parents", he says in a soft excitement as he kisses your forehead.
"you know, oreo was the first one to know", you say and he furrows his brows in confusion.
"what do you mean?", he asks, his hands resting on waist. "that's why she's been so clingy and cuddly to me these last two weeks. she knew i was pregnant, cats can sense it", you explain and his interest is piqued by this piece of information. "should we make a bet on if oreo's going to befriend our kid or not", he says and you snort, chuckling at his suggestion. god how you loved him and his silly antics. "i'm gonna bet she will befriend him, she already has technically", you add before leaning in wonwoo's chest again.
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-bonus scene-
you're laying on the couch, now six months along your pregnancy and your bump is growing healthily. wonwoo's been so sweet and supportive throughout it all, from helping you when you were puking your guts out from morning sickness to getting you all your pregnancy cravings even if they were weird.
you hear the door open, wonwoo walking in with takeaway from your favourite cafe because you were craving a red velvet cake. he triumphantly lifts the bag as he walks in, putting it down on the table as he sees oreo perched on your belly.
"i think out kid is going to be a cat lover", wonwoo says. "imagine if they're not", you add as wonwoo hands you the cake box and you take it, the sweet smell already filling the air. you take a bit and sigh, content and offer wonwoo a bite.
just then you feel the baby kick and oreo looks alert, wondering where the little movement came from as she looks around and looks at you with a questioning look. "baby, did you see that?", you ask. the baby kicks again and oreo looks around again and glances at your belly before meowing at you and you chuckle. "aww she felt the kick", you tell. wonwoo smiles as he looks at you, his heart overflowing with love as he thinks about how lucky he is and how grateful he is
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testostergnomes · 2 years
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Of all the theories as to how Carmilla and her daughters found eachother in Hell (adoption, reuniting after they died, one or all three being Hellborn, ect;), I think my personal favorite is the one where Carmilla was either pregnant when she died or later gave birth to a child she miscarried when she was alive.
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But whether or not that’s true, one of my favorite crack theories/headcanons about Carmilla being pregnant in Hell is how absolutely weird the other Overlords would be about it- because let’s be real, they would absolutely be weird about it. Maybe supportive and weird, but weird.
Zestial, nervously following Carmilla around: My darling. My own heart. I beg of thou, please, for just a moment.
Carmilla, still stubbornly walking around in her ridiculously sharp shoes: I’M FINE.
Zestial, who’s been trying to get her to sit down or at least change her shoes for over an hour: 0,_0
Rosie, crouched at her side with a glass of something red and questionable: I’m telling you, honey, just try this. It’ll cure that morning sickness in a jiffy.
Carmilla, curled up on her bathroom floor: …it disturbs me that I’m nauseous enough to actually be considering this.
Zestial comes to her rescue and shoos Rosie out to go make her some (GINGER) tea before Carmilla can do something she’ll regret.
Alastor, gazing suspiciously: Why on earth is your abdomen moving like that? Is something trying to break out?
Carmilla, too exhausted to deal with this: That movement is my baby kicking, Alastor.
Alastor: Pardon? You mean to tell me that one can see that on the outside? Eugh.
Carmilla, glaring at him: You are so lucky you’re not worth getting up for.
- Rosie insists on throwing her a baby shower. Vox and Alastor get kicked out for fighting and are forced to put together the IKEA furniture for the nursery as punishment.
- I seriously doubt this lot can build and work an ultrasound machine, so something like this is likely.
Carmilla, slowly coming to after giving birth: Mmmh…?
Rosie, happily bouncing one baby in her arms: Oh good, she’s up! Congratulations, sweetie. You have two beautiful daughters 🥰
Carmilla: ….
Zestial, who’s gently cradling the other: Carmilla…? Is something the matter?
Carmilla: …there’s really two of them. I thought I was hallucinating.
BONUS:
Fun fact- some scientists say cats have sensitive enough hearing that they can hear babies’ heartbeats within their mother’s bodies.
Husk, staring at Carmilla:
Carmilla, who’s still processing that she’s pregnant and hasn’t begun telling anyone else: …is something wrong?
Husk, ears bristling slightly: h o w m a n y h e a r t s d o y o u h a v e ?
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marvelsmylife · 15 days
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Second Choice Part 2
Pairing: Azriel x reader
Plot: After three months apart from Azriel, you decide to pay Elain a visit in the spring court and make a discovery of your own
A/n I’m putting up a poll on which high lord you want to cause trouble in this relationship. Tamlin or Helion. Vote here
Second Choice Masterlist
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You stayed at Rhysand’s cabin for three months and refused to talk to Azriel, no matter how persistent he was. Rhysand had to create wards to keep Azriel from entering the cabin. While Feyre and Nesta thought Rhysand was being extreme with his actions, Cassian, Mor, and Amren thought he made the right call.
It’s a good thing he did that because every day, at the same time, Azriel would show up with a present for you. It would vary from day to day. Some days, it was jewelry, other days it would be flowers and pastries from your favorite bakery. 
A letter would be attached to every present he brought you. He would beg for forgiveness in each letter and promise you were the only one he loved and that he was willing to wait for you, no matter how long it took. 
You would burn all the letters and leave all the presents he gave you outside the cabin before crawling back into your bed cry yourself to sleep.
It wasn’t until one day you decided to travel to the spring court to talk to Elain. You needed to know if anything happened between her and Azriel at the beginning stages of your established relationship.
Rhysand was more than happy to take you to the spring court. He felt like you needed to get away from the night court for a while, and while he despised the spring court, he would travel there for you. “I know you’re still furious with Azriel, and rightfully so, but he really is sorry about everything, and he does love you,” Rhysand commented when you arrived at the spring court.
“I know, but I can’t even think about forgiving him until I hear Elain’s side, and even then, I still have doubts. I mean, does he genuinely love me, or is it only because of the bond,” you replied and looked over at Elain and Lucien’s estate.
Rhysand knew you were right and that you had the right to know the truth. “Let me know when you’re ready to go. I’m going to pay Tamlin a little visit while I’m here.” Rhysand was gone before you had a chance to respond.
Turning your attention back to the beautiful estate, and noticed a clearly pregnant Elain waddling over to you. “Y/n! It’s so nice to see you again,” Elain had a radiant smile on her face and excitedly hugged you when she finally reached you, “It’s been too long.”
“I know ! !! I didn’t even know you were pregnant,” you smiled back before gesturing to her bump, “How far along are you?”
Elain had a bright smile on her face as she cradled her baby bump, “Seven months. Come, we have so much to catch up on, and Lucien just finished setting up the dining room so we can eat lunch,” Elain looped her arm with yours and started walking towards her house.
After an hour of eating and catching up, you were all seated in their living room and decided to bring up the reason you were there. You explained what you discovered three months ago and wanted to know if she and Azriel were involved while your romance was still new.
“I will be frank, there was a brief moment when I thought about being in a relationship with Azriel, but nothing physical ever happened between us.” Elain turned towards her mate, “And I’m so thankful that nothing happened. Being with Lucien is the best thing to ever happen to me. I didn’t know true love until I accepted the mating bond and fully gave myself to him.”
You envied the way Elain and Lucien looked at each other. Nothing but love and adoration in their eyes. It was so precious it made you sick. Wait, no. You were actually nauseous, “Where is your bathroom? I’m going to be sick,” you asked and shot up from your seat.
Elain quickly ushered you to the nearest bathroom, and you proceeded to throw up for the next several minutes. “I’m so sorry Elain. I don't know what’s wrong with me. I’ve been feeling sick these past few weeks,” you apologized and rinsed your mouth.
“It’s ok. In my first trimester, I was throwing up a lot. Poor Lucien had to hear it every night. Don’t worry, it’ll pass,” Elain tried to comfort you, but you looked over at her wide-eyed, “You do know you’re pregnant, right?”
When you didn’t answer, Elain just hugged you and caused you to start sobbing. Realization hit you that you were pregnant and had to tell Azriel he was going to be a father.
@sidthedollface2 @crazylokonugget @cleverzonkwombatsludge @vhjlucky13 @fxckmiup @sheblogs @isa1b2h3
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