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myosotisa · 1 year

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Small Things - e.m.

coworker!Eddie Munson x Reader

‖ summary: Insomnia is a bitch and has been really torturing you recently, but your coworker Eddie thinks he might be able to help you get some sleep (wholesomely).

‖ notes: just pure fluff, comfort to undescribed hurt. gender neutral reader, only reference is sitting down to pee (lol). Eddie refers to reader as sweetheart, no y/n. discussions of insomnia, nightmares, various trouble sleeping. sharing a bed :) i was once again possessed by a spirit that demanded Eddie softness. and i am helpless to fight against such a call. the title is based on the song Small Things by Ben Howard. hope you like it!

‖ word count: 3.8k

‖ cross posted on ao3

Another sunrise. The deep maroons that melted into rich oranges and peaks of yellow. Moments of warmth and gold that glowed in the dawn of a new day before fading into the palest and lightest of blues. Mists of grey fog that clouded the streets like ghosts until the sun mercifully put them to rest.

You'd watched too many sunrises recently. Perched by your window, curled up in comfortable layers to fight the chill in the January air, you sat and watched with bleary eyes as a new day began all too soon. It felt like some kind of weird torture to see the world come to life with the sun after hours of oppressive dark and silence. To hear birds begin to chirp, the distant murmur of cars start to kick up, children laughing and talking excitedly as they walked past to reach the bus stop. Feeling entirely unable to do anything else, you watched as the world awoke with a bitter resentment.

By the time you stumbled into the record store that afternoon, you were too bone tired to even hold on to the jealousy of the people around you who slept well. Getting dressed and ready to the bare minimum and inhaling some food was all you could manage before heading to work. You'd been exhausted when you came in to work yesterday too, but another sleepless night between now and then had you an absolute husk of yourself.

"Damn, you look like shit," your coworker, Eddie, said the moment he saw you. There was a grimace on his face and what almost looked like an inch of concern.

"Thanks Munson," you deadpanned back as you threw your bag haphazardly under the counter and stepped up to clock in, "it's nice to see you too."

You and Eddie were friends. Not close by any means, but you worked the afternoon shift together more often than not and spending that much time with someone leads to a certain level of familiarity. Picking up bits and pieces of each other from passing comments and mannerisms, filling silences with stories and conversations about nothing. Friends.

No matter how much he made you laugh and look forward to coming in to work, and no matter how pretty he looked when he had his messy hair pulled into a bun at the nape of his neck.

"I'm not kidding, are you sure you're feeling alright?" He stepped up next to your right side, ducked his head down with narrowed eyes to get a better look at you. You pushed his face away with a palm on his forehead and focused on trying to read through the notes from the morning shift. You knew for a fact Eddie hadn't read it and was just waiting for you to show up and tell him what to do.

"I'm fine. But have you even done any of this?" It came out with more bite than you meant it too, your patience paper thin. "Seriously, you've been here for 2 hours already and you were just what? Doing nothing?"

When your head quickly turned on him, he flinched back, big, brown eyes wide and slow blinking in surprise. You immediately slumped, bringing your hands up to rub roughly at your face as you sighed in regret and frustration. Attempting to bridge the gap he'd very quickly put between the two of you, you tried to soften. "I'm sorry, forget I said that. Let's just… Get to work. Okay?"

Although still hesitant, looking like he was battling between worry and caution, he agreed. "Yeah, sure, sweetheart. Whatever you say."

Grateful for his cooperation, you went through the list and divided up tasks as normal. Set yourself into the familiar role of work, turned on the autopilot. Eddie didn't put up any fight when you told him what you wanted him to do, even sucking up the complaints he normally gave about certain repetitive tasks. When the two of you broke apart to get started, you noticed him over by the record player that was connected to the store's shitty speaker system. He wordlessly swapped the vinyl that wasn't even finished playing and placed in another – one that was way more your taste than his.

Choosing not to think too much about it, you turned off your brain and started organizing.

The next time Eddie spoke to you was almost two hours later. An extended silence like that was nowhere near the norm, he would spend the entire shift talking without a second thought if you let him and you liked that about him. It made the time pass quickly; he had a nice voice and a certain way of speaking and telling stories that drew you in and made you want more. While the silence today had felt empty, you were grateful for it. You didn't have the energy to try to keep up with his enthusiasm right now.

"Sooooo," Eddie began casually when you both found yourselves behind the counter again, "are you gonna tell me what's wrong? Or are we just going to awkwardly not talk for the rest of the day?"

Taking a deep breath to remain calm, you replied, "Nothing's wrong."

"Oh, so we're lying. That's cool." He hopped up to sit on the counter, the rips in his jeans at the knee widening further as he swung his feet. "As long as we’re doing that, I've been wanting to let you know that I'm actually undercover for the government and we'd like to recruit you to be the next President of Space."

You couldn't stop the amused snort that left you, the small smile that came to your face. Tried to ignore how easy it was for him to make you laugh even when you were downright miserable. "You lost me at working for the government.”

He snapped his fingers in a dramatic swing of his wrist, folding his arms over his chest in an exaggerated pout after. “Knew that anti-establishment vibe I gave off would come back to bite me eventually.” When you didn’t respond again beyond shaking your head at his antics, he seemed to quiet down. “But really, you look like you’re dead on your feet. Got me a little worried, is all.”

Meeting his eyes for the first time, you noted the earnest glow in them. He was genuinely worried about you and you couldn’t help but listen to that nagging voice in your head that told you to make it smaller, ease his mind. “Just haven’t been sleeping well. No big deal,” you shrugged your shoulders, averting eye contact as you blew his concern off.

“When’s the last time you slept?”

He asked so easily, like it wasn’t a question that dug too deep, like it didn’t threaten to make your eyes water. You weren’t used to it – being cared for, someone worrying. Someone noticing. It felt strange, uncomfortable, unsafe.

But when you looked in his eyes again, you felt yourself crumble instantly. You’d always been weak when it came to him and now would prove to be no exception.

“Almost 3 days ago,” you admitted quietly. Tried to keep a strong facade, remain unaffected as his face fell. He rubbed at the stubble on his jaw as the muscle there rolled with tension.

“Just can’t fall asleep?” He asked, voice kind and gentle. Non-judgmental. “Or nightmares?”

“Both.”

Looking a bit unsure at continuing to poke, to ask for more, he hesitated before adding, “Is it the quiet?”

When your only response was to press your lips tight together, feeling embarrassed to acknowledge that truth, he began to slowly nod his head. Almost like he was coming to some sort of understanding. “If… If you want to come over to my place after work, I think I can help.”

“Eddie…” Your voice trailed off, trying to fight the butterflies in the pit of your stomach when your mind went straight to the gutter. “If this is some kind of ploy to get in my pants, I’m really not-”

“No!” He interrupted loudly, surprising both himself and you, before he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Nothing like that, no funny business. Scouts honor.” And he held up under your inspection as you studied him, checking for sincerity. In a show of good faith, he used the tip of his finger to draw an ‘X’ over his heart, the corners of his mouth turning up in a smile as he did so.

Weak, exhausted, desperate for rest, you had little fight left to give. “You really think it’ll help?” All he did was nod confidently, not offering anything further. Reluctant to accept his help but at the end of your rope, you agreed. After work, you would get in your car and follow him back to his place.

And the rest of the shift proceeded as close to normal as it could. The two of you weaved around each other as you prepared the store for the weekend rush, ordered takeout to eat during your breaks, and ran through the motions of closing up the store as you had 100 times before. When the door was locked behind you, both of you standing outside in the cold night air, you hesitated. And he noticed immediately. “Do you trust me?”

Not expecting the question, you blinked owlishly at him, pulling your jacket in tight as a shiver ran down your spine. “Yeah,” you said honestly, “yeah, I do.”

His keys spun around his fingers, clanking together with themselves and the silver of his rings as it made contact with his palm. A disarming smile directed toward you and he was waving you to follow. “Then come on.”

The drive to his house on the edge of town was longer than you thought it would be. Honestly, you had no idea where he lived before now. He’d mentioned before that he used to live at the trailer park in Forest Hills but hadn’t explained what happened to get here. He pulled into the grass beside the modest house, half hidden in trees, and you parked your car behind his van. “Home sweet home,” he said with a grin as you exited your car, gesturing to the quiet and dark house.

“Do you live here alone?” You asked, falling into step with him as he led you up the small stairs to the porch.

“No, with my Uncle Wayne.” The screen door squeaked loudly as he pulled it open, his too-full keychain making a mess of noise as he unlocked the front door. “We used to live in a trailer on the other side of town, I think I’ve mentioned that before?” When he looked at you for confirmation, you nodded and followed him inside, the screen door slamming shut behind you. “After the earthquakes, our trailer basically didn’t exist. One of many casualties, I guess. I’m just glad neither of us were home when it happened.” He flipped on a warm toned lamp in the living room, giving a bit of light to the space. It was pretty barren – a new looking leather couch, a TV on a homemade stand, a few newspapers and magazines laid out on the glass coffee table. “Somehow we lucked out getting some big government pay out for the damages and bought this little house. Just a living room, kitchen, bathroom, 2 tiny bedrooms. It’s small, but it’s ours.” You paused your study of the room to turn to where Eddie had walked off to and spotted him bent at the waist in front of the open fridge, arms spread wide.

“I like it,” you offered, feeling out of place in his home.

“It’s alright,” he agreed, although it came out in a happy sigh. “Haven’t had much money to decorate since we had to replace pretty much everything we owned… So it’s a bit plain.” His eyes crinkled in a wince as he tilted his head toward you. “Do you want something to drink? I’ve got water or soda or some lemonade?”

Taking a few cautious steps toward him, you gave him a grateful smile. “A water would be great, thank you.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart. Coming right up.” And if you hadn’t been so sleep deprived, been so sure you were making things up, you could’ve sworn he blushed a bit as he turned away. You watched as he moved around his kitchen in total ease. As if there wasn’t a borderline stranger in his home. It didn’t seem to bother him at all as he poured himself a glass of lemonade and presented you with some water. You thanked him, taking a small sip as you clutched the chilled glass between your hands. “Let me give you the grand tour,” he said with a slight bow, gesturing for you to continue further into his home.

While he was right about it not being very decorated, there were still signs of life everywhere. A flannel overshirt laid over the back of the couch, a partially filled ashtray on top of a magazine, a pair of work boots kicked off in the corner. There were used towels in the bathroom, a cup with 2 toothbrushes on the sink, a broken up bar of soap on the edge of the tub. Wayne’s door was mostly closed and you wanted to respect his boundaries, but could just barely see the corner of a hastily made bed, a pair of fluffy slippers on the floor. And you should've expected that out of the whole house, the most personality was definitely in Eddie’s room.

Your attention first caught on a deep maroon electric guitar displayed in the corner, a tiny amp tucked behind it. It looked well loved and cared for. There were pieces of paper stuck to the walls here and there – blank sheets with sketches of what looked like fantasy creatures on them, lined pages torn from a notebook covered in scribbles of writing. A few photos placed up with thumbtacks, a small bookshelf crowded with paperbacks and vinyl records. There was a dresser to make up for the lack of a closet and a record player sat on top, one you recognized as a model you sold in the store. There was a pile of clothes between the dresser and his guitar, a missing sock beside his bed, some sneakers sticking out from under it. The bed was unmade with cream colored sheets that didn’t look dirty, but had definitely been slept on once or twice. It felt warm and cozy and it smelled like Eddie. Since when do you recognize what Eddie smells like?

“It’s not much,” he commented when the silence stretched too long for his comfort, walking around you to kick the discarded sock out of sight. “At least, not compared to my old room. But it’ll be covered in posters and other bullshit again soon.” You nodded numbly, eyes still scanning and consuming what he offered. You didn’t really know what to say, just allowed him to fill the silence to his contentment. Taking a few steps further into the room, you set your glass down on the stool that acted as his bedside table, wiping the cold condensation off on your pants. His eyes tracked the motion and seemed to come to some realization, taking one long legged step over to his dresser and beginning to dig through drawers.

A few moments later he was holding a bundle of black and grey out to you. “What’s this?” You asked, taking it from his hands on instinct.

“Just a tshirt and a pair of sweatpants. Probably wouldn’t have much luck sleeping in your jeans.” You looked down at the fabric in your hands with wide eyes and then back up at him. “You can, uh, go change in the bathroom if you want?”

Feeling confident enough to ask now, you hesitated. “What exactly am I doing here?”

“I’ll explain after you change, okay? It’s nothing weird and I won’t make you do anything you aren’t comfortable doing.” He looked resolute in that fact, absolutely serious in his claim. It helped settle your nerves a bit as you toed off your sneakers by the wall and then turned back toward the bathroom across the hall.

Slowly, meticulously, you took off your own clothes and folded them into a small pile on the counter. You pulled on what Eddie had given you, unable to stop yourself from inhaling the woody and herbal scent of him. Because of how concentrated it was on his clothes, it overwhelmed you, sending your tired brain spinning. Trying to settle yourself, you put the toilet seat down to pee, took your time washing your hands, and then pressed a bit of warm water to your face. By the time you were collecting your clothes and padding back across the hall in your socks, there was soft instrumentals coming from the record player on Eddie’s dresser and he had also changed into something more comfortable; a pair of red and black flannel pants and a grey crewneck that had faded red lettering spelling out ‘Coca-Cola’ on it. He was barefoot, hair still in the same bun as before, bent slightly forward as he thumbed through his bookshelf. As if sensing your arrival, he straightened up and turned toward you, his lips stretching into a toothy smile as he took you in.

“My clothes suit you,” he said, a bit smug and teasing. You rolled your eyes, hoped to god you didn’t blush visibly. As you crossed over to set your clothes over by your shoes, his eyebrows pinched together in concern. “I forgot how cold it is, do you think you’ll be alright? I can pull out another sweatshirt if you need it.”

“I’m fine for now,” you rushed to placate, still feeling plenty warm in the heated walls of the small house. “If I get cold, I’ll let you know.”

His smile returned, this one almost sickly sweet. “Sounds good to me.” He adjusted back toward the bookshelf, eyes scanning rapidly back and forth for a few moments before he grabbed one of the well-worn novels between his fingertips and pulled it out. “So, here’s the plan,” he said, coming back around to sit on the edge of the bed facing where you remained in the doorway. “You’re going to lay down and try to sleep, and I’m gonna sit next to you and read.”

You tilted your head to the side, unable to hide your confusion. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.” He confirmed, giving his bed a little tap to invite you over.

Still unsure, you crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed, some safe space remaining between the two of you. “I don’t understand, how would that help me?”

Restless hands tapped against the paper cover of the novel in his hands, The Sword and the Stone by T.H. White, as he appeared to collect his thoughts. “After the earthquakes,” he began, taking a pause to clear his throat as his voice caught, “I struggled to sleep for a real long time. Nightmares, insomnia, waking up in the middle of the night, the whole thing.” His tone was soft, vulnerable, almost a bit embarrassed as he explained. “I tried alcohol, weed, sex, working out, going for walks, almost everything and nothing helped. After a really rough night, I was just laying on the couch when Wayne came home from work. We didn’t say much, and he just started to cook some food for himself before he went to bed.” A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, obviously appreciating the memory. “I don’t really know for sure what did it, but something about just listening to him do something, just having someone else around put me right to sleep. And I thought maybe it was a fluke, I’d just passed out from exhaustion and it was a coincidence. But it happened again and again. Whether he was thumbing through the newspaper, cooking, reading, whittling at a stick, anything quiet really. As long as he was there, I could get to sleep.”

“So,” he nudged his elbow into your arm, bringing your eyes to meet his, “I’m going to sit here and read next to you and you’re gonna get some sleep.”

It still didn’t make much sense to you, couldn’t get your tired brain to pick up the threads on why that would be so. But you were desperate at this point, just wanting to be able to close your eyes and find some peace. As your fingers curled in the hem of your shirt, his shirt, you softly asked, “You really think it’ll work?”

“I figure it’s worth a shot, sweetheart.”

And then you were nodding, and he was giving you that look to check if you were serious, if you were comfortable, and then he was shifting up on the bed. It was full size, so just barely enough for the two of you to be side by side and not really be touching. He sat up, leaning back against the headboard and motioned for you to lay down next to him. You did so carefully, pulling the heavy quilt and top sheet over you as you settled on your back next to him, hands resting on your stomach and eyes on the ceiling as you tried to ignore your discomfort.

As soon as you stopped moving, he adjusted himself a bit, balancing the book using his knee and one hand, the other arm draping itself over the pillow your head rested on. You held your breath as his fingertips pressed into your hair, immediately moving into soothing circles on your scalp. As much as you wanted to feel weird about the intimate touch, it had you melting into his sheets, your held breath releasing in a shaky exhale.

“Is this okay?” He asked quietly, looking down at you in a way that was just filled with softness. Already fighting the heavy feeling in your eyes, you nodded, drawing the blanket up further around you. He smiled, his thumb stroking across your hairline for a moment before he went back to the gentle circles from before. “Now, try and get some sleep. I’ll be right here.”

And you didn’t know if it was the placebo effect from him telling you it worked for him, the confirmation that he was watching over you, the soft sounds of his deep breathing and the gentle turn of pages, the warmth and smell of him being nearby, or the way he mindlessly drew patterns into your skin, but you were fading fast. “Hey Eddie?” You said in a whisper after a few minutes of peace.

“Yeah sweetheart?” He replied just as softly.

“Thank you.”

He hummed a deep baritone of acknowledgement as your breathing began to slow, to draw deeper. “Sleep well.”

And you did. All the way through the night without a single dream.

thanks for reading!! please give it a reblog and leave a note if you liked it :)

tagging my muses: @blue-mossbird, @hauntingbastille, @fracturedarkness. @abibliophobiaa (i promise i will sleep at some point)

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things 4 #eddie munson #myos ideas #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson blurbs #eddie munson oneshots #myo4munson

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ceruleanwind · 24 days

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Another Extreme

Lestappen | Explicit | 2.8k | Read on AO3

“Going somewhere?” Max grins at him. He’s so fucking cocky. Charles nods, feeling jerky and frantic. “Yeah. Really—ah, really have to pee.” He twists to cross his thighs over one another, glancing up at Max and resenting how his eyes gleam. Charles knows that look—he’s quite accustomed to it—and every time it doesn’t end well. “I don’t think so,” Max finally says, using his hold on Charles’ bicep to lead him down the hallway. “If you really had to go, you’d have done it by now.” Or: Charles gets desperate during a race. Max takes a particular interest in it.

It’s no secret that Charles has a tiny bladder.

In fact, he’s rather open about it most of the time; he’s talked about his experiences in interviews on numerous occasions and he knows full well that videos of him high-tailing it to the bathroom regularly circulate online. The exact reason why, Charles isn’t sure, but he sees no point in being ashamed of something everyone does.

He’d be lying if he said he hasn’t been ashamed before, though.

He’s had accidents in the past, of course. One Charles remembers vividly was in one of his feeder series races, when the race got red-flagged and he had no opportunity to pee before the race started up again. He remembers the way he sobbed as his muscles gave way despite the clench of his thighs together in the tiny space; he’ll never forget how it pooled at his ass and spread into the thick fabric of his race suit. Oh, did it feel good at the time, but Charles would rather die than relive the moment where he had to climb out of his car, red-faced, and explain to his mechanics what happened, tear tracks drying on his cheeks.

Even that, oh God, even that level of desperation doesn’t match up to how Charles is feeling right now.

The parallels are shocking, in fact. Charles currently sits in his car, thighs jammed together as he waits out the red flag. Jesus, it’s been, what—half an hour now? The race would have ended by now, easily—there are only a few laps to go, and Charles could have been in the bathroom already, chasing the sweet relief of emptying his overfilled bladder. “Are you sure there isn’t time for me to go pee?” Charles asks his race engineer for what has to be the fifth time now, his voice coming out a lot whinier than he intended.

“No, Charles. Race control says five minutes.”

“Didn’t they say that fifteen minutes—fuck, I don’t care.” Charles switches off his radio and groans, soon dissolving into a desperate whine. He manages to twist and turn enough to press one hand into his crotch, squeezing at his cock through his race suit. Time seems to pass unbearably slowly; Charles tries occupying his mind with other things—what is he going to have for dinner? Might he win this race from third place? What was that TV show he was watching this morning?—but not even his racing thoughts seem to mitigate the pressure in his bladder, the seatbelt cutting into his lower stomach and making him shiver.

Finally, oh-so-finally, the cars get clearance to line up on the grid again. Charles pulls into position, biting hard on his bottom lip every time his car jerks or bumps the tiniest bit. The metallic tang of blood explodes across his tongue as he navigates his car through the laps, panting with the effort of straining every muscle in his lower half to keep the flood at bay. He can’t pee himself in his car now that he’s made it to Formula One. He can’t. Charles winces as he imagines getting up on the podium with a soaked race suit, the wet patch blooming dark and obvious on the red fabric. The whole world would point and laugh and call him pathetic—he’s sure of it.

The adrenaline of overtaking Lando in the last lap and crossing the chequered flag in second place does momentarily suppress his overwhelming need to pee, he’ll admit. Once in parc fermé, Charles hops out of his car and congratulates Lando with a handshake, before turning to Max and doing the same. He hopes Max doesn’t notice how desperate he is—his teeth still catch on his bottom lip under his balaclava—but Max knows him scarily well. It’s a high hope.

Podium celebrations come first, of course, and then he can go, Charles promises himself, tugging off his helmet with a wince. It feels nicer to be stretched to his full height on solid ground as opposed to being pressed into his car, seatbelt pulled taut against his swollen bladder. The cooldown room is air-conditioned and has enough distraction for Charles to forget about his predicament—that is, until Max picks up an ice-cold water bottle, sweating with condensation, and lifts it to his lips, catching Charles’ eye. Charles watches, transfixed, as Max swallows down the water; he notices how a little of it runs down Max’s damp throat and it makes him turn away, pressing a hand over his mouth to keep quiet. All the painful pressure comes rushing back all at once and it nearly makes Charles sob, a shudder wracking his desperate body.

Charles doesn’t think he’s ever been this close to losing it in front of tens of thousands of people. On the podium, right next to Max, Charles squeezes his thighs together and receives his trophy with the last shred of self-control and decency he still holds. He holds it high to the sky and resolutely ignores the way his bladder throbs, a cold sweat breaking out across his skin under his clothes. The subsequent sticky spray of the champagne all over him nearly makes him lose it right then and there, but he holds out, drawing blood from his lip for the second time today.

His heart soars when the officials usher all three of them back inside. Glancing around, Charles prepares to take off for the nearest bathroom, but he’s stopped in his tracks by a firm hand wrapped around his bicep.

“Going somewhere?” Max grins at him. He’s so fucking cocky.

Charles nods, feeling jerky and frantic. “Yeah. Really—ah, really have to pee.” He twists to cross his thighs over one another, glancing up at Max and resenting how his eyes gleam. Charles knows that look—he’s quite accustomed to it—and every time it doesn’t end well.

“I don’t think so,” Max finally says, using his hold on Charles’ bicep to lead him down the hallway. “If you really had to go, you’d have done it by now.”

Charles’ stomach twists. He tries to wrench his arm free from Max’s grasp, but to no avail; he gives up and lets Max take him somewhere private instead. “That’s not—that’s—Max, I have to go,” he whines before gasping as a hot gush of liquid heat escapes his cock and soaks into his boxers. “Please, I—”

Max glances around, tugging Charles into a secluded section of hallway, shielded from any searching eyes. “Like I said,” he says, voice low and sweet as honey, “you’d have done it right now if you did.” He pushes at Charles’ shoulder, forcing him to his knees.

Tears form in Charles’ pretty green eyes as he slowly sinks to his knees in front of Max. He knows what he’s here to do—of course he does—but he doesn’t think he can stomach the inevitable embarrassment of peeing himself in front of Max, especially not after a race. His fingers work expertly at Max’s race suit, tugging it down to his hips before freeing his cock from his fireproofs. Charles gets a hand between his own thighs, twisting to squeeze at his desperate cock. Oh, he hates how stupid he gets when he’s on his knees. Max always gets a hand in his hair and brushes his thumb across his cheek and Charles is so far gone, blissfully obedient in every way.

“That’s it, baby, there you go,” Max hums appreciatively once Charles takes the head of his cock into his mouth. Charles moans around it, feeling fuzzy from the praise, only to gasp and whine when he relaxes too much and another wash of liquid heat soaks into his fireproofs.

“Max,” Charles begs once he pulls his mouth off Max’s cock, “please, I’m going to—”

Max merely grabs a handful of Charles’ hair and forces his head back down. “No you’re not,” he says, his voice level.

Oh, but he is. Charles sobs around Max’s cock as he lets more of it slide into his mouth, enveloping it in slick wet heat. Kneeling like this has Charles’ knees pushed right into the swell of his bladder and with how he’s shivering and how his muscles are twitching to try and hold it in, he knows he can’t last much longer. He’s really about to do this, isn’t he? He’s about to piss his race suit in front of Max, his cock halfway down his throat, and even just the thought has Charles nearly wanting to cry out of embarrassment. He takes Max’s cock until he chokes with it, tears spilling out onto blood-hot cheeks as he does what he’s made to do.

The desperation sets into each and every one of Charles’ nerves. It’s a warm, achy, tingling feeling that almost has him gasping as it coils hot and needy right in his cock. He can feel it creeping up on him like a massive wave, threatening to drown him.

It only takes a few more seconds of kneeling in that position before Charles’ depleted muscles give out and he floods his clothes, a dizzying, full-body shiver ripping through him as a result. That flow of wet, delicious heat washes continuously over his crotch and spreads across the tops of his thighs, forming a dark wet patch on the cherry red fabric. Charles whimpers, high and loud and pathetic around Max’s cock, squirming with discomfort as he soaks his clothes practically from waist to toe.

“Oh,” Max says, an air of condescension surrounding him as he looks down at Charles, watches him wet himself like a pathetic little kid. “Guess you did have to go.” His hand in Charles’ hair doesn’t let up; in fact, he only squeezes tighter, fucking forward into the delicious slick heat of Charles’ mouth. Charles whines in response, pretty tears streaming down his cheeks, and Max can’t get enough of it. “Isn’t that pretty? Wet little thing.”

Charles thinks he might be okay with sinking into the floor and never looking Max in the eyes ever again. He can’t stop fucking peeing, either, and soon enough the fabric of his boxers and fireproofs becomes so soaked that it drags over the head of his oversensitive cock with every tiny move he makes, making him twitch and whine and clench his hands into fists. It’s so much. It’s too much. He’s kneeling in his own mess; his piss pools at his ass and soaks up into the hem of his fireproof shirt, that dripping wet warmth setting his nerves on fire.

At last, the flow tapers off, and Charles’ cock rapidly hardens in wake of the overwhelming relief. He lets Max fuck into his mouth, dragging his hot tongue up the sensitive underside of it and trying in vain to smile around it when he hears Max groan. Charles gets a hand between his thighs again, rubbing absently at his cock through his clothes and moaning at how fucking sensitive he is; the drag of his soaked clothes against his flushed, twitching cock is downright heavenly.

“Fuck, come on,” Max groans before using his hold on Charles’ hair to pull his mouth off his cock. Max finishes the job himself, stroking himself to completion and coming all over Charles’ face. His cockhead spurts hot and thick over Charles’ lips and cheeks and some of it pools on Charles’ beautifully pink tongue. He catches it all like a good little slut, gazing up at Max and silently pleading to swallow his prize.

Despite recovering from his orgasm, Max would never give up a sight like this; he nods, running gentle fingers through Charles’ ruffled hair as he watches him swallow down the come that isn’t streaked across his flushed cheeks. Pearls of Max’s come even catch in Charles’ wet, clumpy eyelashes, mixing delightfully with his unshed tears. “Oh, baby, you’re so good,” Max praises easily, the words flowing off his tongue. “Come on, get up. Get your back to me.”

Charles chokes out a pathetic little sob, feeling ruined. He wipes his mouth with his sleeve, wincing at the large drooly wet spot he’d made, just like he’s a common whore. He’d be nothing if he wasn’t exceedingly obedient, so he struggles to his feet, whining at the friction against his sensitive, untouched cock, before turning around and facing away from Max. Charles isn’t sure what to expect at this stage, but he knows whatever it is will have him wrecked beyond belief.

Max presses up against Charles’ back, feeling how wet his lower half is. He reaches around to unzip Charles’ race suit, urging him to work it down to his waist. “So hard,” he observes, voice a low murmur right in Charles’ ear, his breath warm against the shell of it, once he gets a hand between Charles’ thighs, fingers grazing against Charles’ soaked boxers. “You like embarrassing yourself a little?”

What a horrible thing to ask, Charles thinks, squeezing his eyes shut in shame and feeling his face flush a pretty pink. No—but yes—but no, but only if it’s Max. Unable to form words, Charles settles for a shake of his head. No. He doesn’t like it. In fact, he’d rather die than have anyone else know about it. Impatiently, he shifts his hips into Max’s touch, desperate for something, anything.

“You wouldn’t be hard if you didn’t,” Max goes on, and this time his hand does dip into Charles’ boxers, wrapping around Charles’ cock. Charles keens, hips instinctively twitching forward for more, and a hot shiver races up his spine when Max gives it to him, fast and rough and all at once.

“Okay,” Charles cries, his voice coming out shaky and wrecked, “I—I do. I like it.” He nearly wants to cry. He lets his head fall back against Max’s shoulder, his legs threatening to give out. He’s never needed to come this badly in his life.

Max brings his free hand up from where it was holding Charles’ chest to wrap delicately around his exposed throat. Charles moans again, his cock twitching in Max’s hand, and that’s all the encouragement Max needs to squeeze, fingertips digging into the soft, vulnerable skin of Charles’ neck, sure to leave bruises for the next day. “I thought so,” Max goes on, dragging his thumb roughly over the tip of Charles’ cock and making him cry out, all broken and strangled. “It was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

Charles’ hazy mind takes a few long moments to process Max’s words, but the praise rips through him in an instant and he’s coming pathetically all in his clothes and over Max’s fingers. Max strokes him roughly through his orgasm, and his hand on Charles’ throat doesn’t let up until Charles squirms away, whining out a pained, overstimulated “ah, ah, ah” that nearly has Max’s cock twitching again. Charles forces himself free and collapses against Max’s side, exhausted and wrecked and soaked, his mind so clouded he can’t even form words.

Finally, everything stops. Max holds Charles close as his chest heaves, coming down from his high. He wipes his hands on a dry section of Charles’ race suit before leaning in to kiss at his face, his lips grazing the tender spot on the side of Charles’ jaw.

“You’re such a—a prick,” Charles finally groans, but Max can spot the smile playing across his face.

Max shrugs, pulling back to take a good look at Charles’ flushed, pretty face. “Maybe. But you liked every bit of it.”

Charles aims a weak punch at Max’s shoulder, movements sluggish and tired, and Max ducks away, laughing.

“Hey,” Max goes on, “we still have press conferences to do.”

“Fuck,” Charles sighs, and at last he becomes blissfully aware of how his bladder feels now that it’s been emptied. “Yeah. I need a change of clothes.”

Max gets one hand around Charles’ waist and guides him out of the corridor, shielding him from any prying eyes. His eyes are bright when he teases, “Or you could go out there and show everyone.”

Charles looks at him as if he’s just been shot. “No,” he says quickly. He flushes the prettiest shade of pink and he glances down at the floor before mumbling, “You’re the only person that gets to see.”

Max brings his arm up to wrap around Charles’ shoulders instead. “I definitely like the sound of that,” he says as they walk down the hallway, back towards Charles’ driver’s room. “So what you’re saying is there’s a next time, huh?”

“Shut up,” groans Charles, playfully swatting at Max. “I didn’t say that.”

Despite his words, Charles’ cock involuntarily twitches in his soaked clothes. There’ll certainly be a next time.

#f1 fanfic #f1 rpf #lestappen #3316 #1633 #f1blr #the charles leclerc pissbaby agenda Must be written for.#it is predestined... i am but the messenger #my fics

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laguezze · 10 months

Text

PAC: Bold Words You Need to Hear

Theme: BS&T by BTS

Hello! I know my scheduled reading is "Characteristics of your soulmate" however I had a different calling. I sensed that some people needed to hear some advice so here I am with some bold words channeled for you all! As always, take what resonates!

WARNING ⚠️

These messages are BOLD. Some of it may not be pretty and what you want to hear. Please please please take what resonates and leave if it doesn't. I don't want to hurt anyone but it's what I channeled and what I feel called to share by my guides.

Here are the piles!

Pile I

Pile II

Pile III

Ready? Let's go!

Pile 1

You are not lost. You're not beyond repair. But you are guilty.

The things that happened, happened. That's it. Can't change it, can't go back and fix it.

Now what will you do? How do you repair the damage done? How will you change for the better?

Stop whining about feeling guilt and do something about it. Playing the victim will not do anything. If you're so guilty and ashamed give yourself the accountability you need in order to heal.

You messed up, that happened. Now what?

Don't just stand there, do something. TAKE ACTION TOWARDS GROWTH.

You might have done something to someone, yourself, or a group of people.

I'm hearing certain things that are a bit PG and uncomfortable so I won't share.

I'm hearing some of you need to go to a support group, some of you might need to try therapy, join an activism group you damaged, have a conversation with the people you hurt, stop some bad habits you might have with yourself, quit addiction, respect yourself, journal.

Pile 2

Do you actually hate yourself? Do you actually feel sad and helpless? Because it feels like you may be enjoying this darkness you live in wayyy too much. Stop complaining about your issues while you do nothing about them. It's as if someone broke their arm and complained about the pain all the while not resting or visiting a doctor. Realize that true happiness is what you want and although it won't make you feel edgy and alternative and different from everyone else, it's what you need and want.

If you're gonna revel on your pain, at least be honest about it and stop complaining about it. Do you actually wanna be happy? Do you actually hate being this way?

Feels like some of you may be struggling with some things, you're not alone. However this is a call to get better.

It's easy to let yourself be consumed by the pain and to enjoy the attention it brings due to the pity you receive. But it's not healthy. Be aware of this.

If you're in need of help, seek it. There's nothing wrong with that.

Pile 3

Stop envying every single person you come into contact with. You want their life? Ok, then take steps in yours instead of longingly staring at them and expecting some miracle to happen that will make you become them. You're you and that's fine. Stop trying to imitate people. Envying someone is not good for you or them, realize that your life is yours and so you have power to shape it however you want.

You are not a little helpless peasant staring at some evil, big noblemen. Quit that. You're putting yourself in a position of weakness.

Don't hate people for having what you want. Work to have it yourself. Empathize. You're no different, you both pee and poop and breathe the same air so stop it.

Some of you have bad attitudes and resentment towards a group of people or person because of the fact that they have something you lack.

You are being called to work inwards and observe that your behavior is not great.

Work on being kinder and empathetic.

The End.

(it said bold and it is bold.)

#tarot readings #tarot #free readings #tarot blog #free tarot reading #pick a card #tarot pick a card #tarot pick a pile #pick a pile #ask game readings

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adabisworld · 1 year

Text

Stars to my moon |chapter-8|

Genre: Soulmateau! Idolau!Angst;fluff;drama;romance, polyamorousAu!

Pairing:ot7×f!OC

Summary: He took big strides, halting right in front of me as he bends to my eye level, causing me lean back a little. I could feel his breath fanning my face, looking into his eyes, I could see a storm of anger into them.

"We have been nothing but considerate of you and your feelings, while all you've given in return is rejection and cold shoulder since day one." He grits out.

when Selene's 22nd birthday doesn't go as she expected, her world turns upside down, making her resent her soulmates. Will she ever come to accept them in her life or will she continue to run away holding onto her past love?

Bouncing his leg up and down, chewing on the pen, he couldn't help but wonder what was happening across the hall.

With a sigh, he slams his pen down on the table, getting up to pace around the room.

Taehyung was trying to concentrate on his music, wanting to take his mind off the fact that the other members were in Selene's new apartment, trying to help her settle in, but the thought of everyone with her: enjoying, and making new memories was unsettling to him.

Not because he didn't want to share her or was possessive over her, but because he wasn't there with them, he won't be included in those memories.

Setting his ego aside, he finally gives in to the urge to stalk across the hall. However, voices could be heard even outside her apartment since the door wasn't locked. And Taehyung could perfectly recognize those voices and what they were saying as he approached the place.

"Hey, is this you?" Jimin asks, most probably to Selene.

"What? Heyy! Give that back! You're not supposed to see that just yet!"

"Oh no, No. Others need to see this." Jimin says, just in time for Taehyung to watch the further occurrence from the doorway. The scene had his steps halted and jaw clenching.

Jimin was running around the messy sitting room while Selene chased him, swearing at him while they both laughed. They looked like a normal, happy couple there, and Taehyung was happy for his friend but what had him step back and turn around to go back to his own place was not the thought of giving them privacy but the fact that, he too, wanted to be included in her life but was afraid of the rejection.

This wasn't the first time he had caught Selene with his members and one of her other soulmates. Just this morning, Selene was happily cooking together with Jin; the way her aura glowed with serenity and happiness was a rare sight to see. One he had never had the luck to see before then. Not just that, but he had also seen her talking with Namjoon at the ungodly hour of the night. Both, getting to know each other and sharing their troubles. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop but overheard that her mother was the one who convinced her to give them a chance. He was so thankful for her mother but couldn't help being jealous of their relationship. Out of all of them, Namjoon would be the one who knows Selene even just a little.

Since tomorrow she had not but glanced at him one time when they held hands to not get sick. And now seeing her like this with Jimin- he understands that the problem is not about them being her soulmates anymore. It was HIM being her soulmate. Lord knows what he has done besides giving her the piece of mind that she desperately needed.

With an anxious mind and furious steps, he gets back to his room and falls into his twirling chair. Mind going over the possibilities of confronting her for the not-so-subtle ignorance of his existence. Because he had to, or he would lose his mind pondering over the why.

The only question remaining was HOW? He breathes out a sigh of annoyance. He didn't want to do anything that he would regret later. Something that would cause an even bigger rift between the two.

Taehyung gets up from the chair, running his hand through his hair. The sound of footsteps coming towards his room with a huff interrupts his brainstorming. He peeks out of his room to find out who the sound belonged to, finding his hyung searching for something in a hurry.

"Hyung! What are you doing?" He asks, fully stepping out of his room.

"The company called; they need me in. And I just can't find my fucking will to go. All I wanted to do was sleep for a while." Yoongi says with a huff making Taehyung crack up.

Yoongi; after having woken up late in the morning, got the news of getting the day off to help Selene settle in from Jin, and needless to say, he was ecstatic. And no, not to help her. But for the bliss that he will get sleeping after having done so.

"Forget that. What are you doing here when everyone is there having fun, huh?" His Hyung asks with a pointed look.

He looks down and shakes his head. "What does it matter, hyung? If I am there or not?"

"You know it does. Everyone wants you there."

"Not her. She doesn't want me there."

"And why do you say that? Has she said something to you?" Yoongi raises an eyebrow.

He laughs, "She'll say something to me when she acknowledges my existence. That's the point, Hyung. She is acting like I don't exist. She has gone and made amends with every one of her soulmates except me. She doesn't want anything to do with me. She's got everything she would want in them anyways, the brain, the beauty, and the heart. Where would I even fit in? There is no place left."

"Don't say that. You need to give her some time. She might still be a little upset at you, or maybe she is afraid just like you. Don't go jumping to conclusions." Yoongi consoles him, putting a hand on his shoulder. Taehyung nods, not believing him fully but letting the hope creep in.

"Now, let's go. Everyone is waiting." Yoongi takes his hand and leads him to her apartment.

Stopping at the door, "You go in. I'll join you guys for dinner after." Saying this, Yoongi disappears down the hall.

With a sigh, he musters up the courage to bear getting ignored by his soulmate again. Gulping down the hurt and anger, he tries to stay calm and impassive as he steps into the apartment, not letting his steps falter.

But, as he steps into the apartment a second time that day the picture playing in front of him is much worse than before. And he broke.

Selene tastes the food from the spoon and then forwards the spoon to Jungkook, who starts jumping with mad brows after tasting it. Making Selene nervous,

"What is it? You don't like it? is it too spicy?"

"Aani aani." He retaliates.

Namjoon laughs as he shakes his head. "He always does this when he likes the food. It's his way of expressing that the food is good."

She laughs, and others don't miss this opportunity to tease the maknae.

"AArghhhh... Jkayyy..."

Jungkook hides behind Jin, hands touching his ears softly; something he does when he's shy, with his bunny smile. They all have this belief that Jin's broad shoulders can save them from anything in the world. I know, Funny. But cute.

Back to the topic at hand, The reason Taehyung broke was not their smiles nor the family-like atmosphere but the fact that Selene is even friendly and smiley towards someone who is not her soulmate. That means the problem is him only. Maybe he went too far when he called her a bitch, but well, she was acting like it. And he won't let regret fill his heart. He did what he did for his best friend, and they are happy now. Trying. Because of that. He just needs to find a way to mend his relationship with her.

Taking a deep breath in, he approaches them. His heart, beating fast. The hope that maybe she will acknowledge him or just pass him a small smile was there. But well, what is the point of false hope, right? Because she didn't. As he approached, Jimin comes by his side, talking about what just took place, oblivious that he had already seen it and let it scratch at his heart.

Everyone takes a seat, curiously watching Selene cook with Jin and Jungkook helping her.

"She is making something from her culture. Gazpacho?" Jimin looks at Selene, confirming if he said it right.

"Gazpacho and Paella (Pa-yay-ah)" she teaches him and he repeats it back to Taehyung.

He nods. One thing he notices is not once during this exchange did Selene look at him directly. She corrected Jimin with a small polite smile and went back to doing her thing. He closes his fist, trying to drink down the hurt.

The cooking goes on, Selene doing most of the work, with Jin and Jungkook teasing and fighting each other in the back. These guys really do start anywhere, but what can one say? That's what makes their relationship exceptional.

Hoseok and Namjoon talk as the latter say something that makes Hobi laugh so hard; he starts clapping his hand.

"Care to share?" Selene raises an eyebrow at them. A small smile played on her lips.

Hoseok shakes his head, making the motion of sealing his lips. All the while trying to contain his laughter. Namjoon hangs his head, also trying to hide his dimpled smile.

Meanwhile, Taehyung had to chew on the hurt and anger he was feeling. He is going to ask her tonight why she is behaving like this to him. He can not be in the dark anymore. His patience has run out. He now just needs to find an appropriate time for it.

--------

Trying to ignore Taehyung has turned out to be a much harder task than I thought it would. His presence is big. Even when he quietly sits on the side, he attracts attention. But that is something I can't give in to.

The way I have seen it, Taehyung has had some problems with me since the start. why wouldn't he? the way I treated them, ignored our connections, no one deserves that kind of behavior. And I am not ready to broach that subject with him yet because I fear he might reject me. I suspect nothing major will happen to me if one or two of my soulmates out of seven refuses to be with me, but still, he holds a piece of my soul. The puzzle of my heart will not be completed if even one of them refuses to be with me.

The quiet, frowny look he wears whenever he is near me is painful to watch. How bad would you feel if your presence became the reason for the frown on your soulmate's face? I don't ever want to experience this again. But the connection between our souls has been pulling my gaze towards him and even with my resistance I had sneaked a handful of looks at him whenever he wasn't looking at me. Better yet, glaring at me.

That's what it has been like with him. He gives me glares, and I try my best to ignore them in order to avoid the hurt.

I sigh softly, making up an excuse to leave the kitchen while the dish simmers. Asking Jungkook and Jin to see it doesn't get burnt.

With their nod, I make my way toward my new bedroom. The decor is all beige and white. On the shelves above my bed sits my plants, giving the room a home-y calm vibe. I take a seat on the side of my bed, smoothening out its wrinkles. I wish someone could smooth out the wrinkles in my and Taehyung's relationship just like that.

I get up, looking for my phone. Maybe my mother could help me and give me some advice on how to approach him.

I look on and inside my bedside table but have no luck; I move onto the shelves, my closet, and under the pillow, but I don't find it anywhere. Where the fuck did I put my fucking phone!

A sigh of frustration leaves my mouth. I should ask one of the guys to call on it. I never put my mobile on silent, so it should be easy to find.

I look down at my feet, carrying me out of my bedroom. God, I need to go to the salon. My toenails are in very poor shape. I huff out at my own ignorance. I never let my salon date pass.

Just as I look back up again, a hand clasps around my own, and I am suddenly being pulled into the dark hallway, opposite of where I intended of going, might I add.

The person slams me against the wall, one hand still holds my own, pressing it against the wall beside my head, and the other rests above my head.

"Wha-" my curse dies out on my tongue when I see who the culprit is.

Collecting myself, I ask, "What are you doing!?" trying to break my hand free from his grip.

"No." He interrupts me, refusing to let go of his hold on me. "What are YOU doing, huh?"

"What!?" I ask at his accusing tone, oblivious of what the fuck he is on about,

Gritting his teeth, he answers, "Why are you ignoring me?"

Hearing his question, I scoff, going into defensive mode. "Excuse me! I am ignoring YOU?"

"Yes."

Alright! If he wants to pretend that he wasn't the one acting all prideful and ignorant before, I'll play along. He's going to be the one regretting either way.

"Well, don't you think that might be because you deserve it? You don't think you did something that would lead to me ignoring you, Taehyung?" I ask him absurdly, still trying to get my hand out of his grip, which he still refuses to let go

"No. I don't think so. All I did was put some sense into you and pushed you in the right direction." He gets closer to me. So close, I can feel his breath on my face.

"Reallyyy!? Excuse me if my memory doesn't serve me right, but weren't you the one who called me a bitch?" I cock my head.

"Um, Weren't you the one acting like a bitch and planning to leave your soulmates?" He throws it back at me. Offending me, boy.

"You all were practically strangers to me! What the fuck had you expected!? I would bear out my heart to you, trust you and accept you all in a matter of an eyeblink!!? Just because you are my soulmates!? That is ABSURD!" I breathe heavily, my heart racing fast.

All my life, I have avoided confrontations. Talking about what I think is hard for me, showing any emotions is a no-go. It is something that I just can't do. Eric was there all the way. Still, it wasn't easy for me to completely be vulnerable in front of him. But this man! He just knows how to push my buttons. God, He is making me talk, and I do not like it. Still, I won't stop now. Not now, This has to be said.

"NO!" he slams the wall beside my head, getting more close to my face; I have to look sideways to avoid contact as he speaks, gritting his teeth. "IF you were acting all cold and ignorant because you wanted to take time to KNOW us before committing and diving into this, it would have been fine; it even would have been welcomed. But you did all that not to know us but to push us away to get back with your past lover! How had YOU expected us to react!? Did you think we would be okay with you stomping all over us to get back to your boyfriend? The same boyfriend who left You for his soulmate. Do you really think he was worthy of your love and sacrifice?"

"No! Don't you dare bring Eric into this. Whatever happened, he is still my friend, and he left me because he cared for all the lives that would have been affected by this, as in Yours! Also, I have never wanted ill for any of you. I would have sealed our bond, and we all could have been happy with the ones who we would choose."

"You really think we could have chosen someone else when we knew you were out there, that at last, we were going to be together because you're the one destiny wants us to be with." He asks, his eyes going soft. Looking into them, for a second, I forget that we were fighting; this is the first time he has let me see the vulnerability in his eyes, and something tells me being vulnerable isn't easy for him as well.

Looking away, I say, "Anyway, moving on. After talking with my mother, I have decided to give this a chance. so why are you bringing this up again when I have already apologized?"

"That's the thing Selene, You have apologized and mended your relationship with everyone. Everybody except me. How do you think I feel about that?" His eyes gave out an emotion I couldn't put my finger on.

"I don't know. I didn't think you'd care." Shrugging, I tell him honestly.

"Why did you think that?"

"Because you don't like me from day one, and you've been ignoring me like a plague, and you are always glaring at me. What else am I supposed to think? You don't act that way when you care, Taehyung." I sigh as I tell him.

The way he has been acting has hurt me, even if I don't have the right to say so. I know I hurt them first, but I get it now, and I want to know them now. And his unspoken rejection stung.

"You think I am ignoring you?" He asks, a bit surprised as he finally softens his grip on my hand, backing away just a little.

"Yes, obviously." Even when I know that I could free my hand now that his grip has loosened, I don't. I let him hold my hand. Craving the little connection our souls are getting from our little encounter.

"What makes you think that?" Pure confusion displayed in his eyes.

"I don't know? The fact that you never talk to me? Leave the room when I enter? Avoid making any eye contact?"

"I don't avoid eye contact; you do. And I don't talk to you because you are always preoccupied with someone. And I leave the room because-" he abruptly stops. His expressions tell me he said something he thought he shouldn't have. Still, I push.

"Because..? Because what Taehyung? Because you don't want to be near a bitch like me? Because you don't want me near your friends? Because you think my personality is so hideous that you can't look at it for-"

"Because it hurts, dammit!" Shouting, he interrupts me. "Because it hurts to see you all smiley and happy with the others and ignoring me. Even with Jungkook, you act like you guys are such good friends while you avoid any interaction with me, your own soulmate." He whispers, making me completely shut up.

When I don't say anything, he looks up with misty eyes. "I know you don't want me. Why would you, when you have everything you could ever want in those three? They're the brains, beauty, and heart. But you're the only soulmate I have. And I want to be with you, even if I have to be at the bottom of your list."

Hearing him breaks my heart; I didn't know he felt like that. I never intended for him to question himself. Freeing my hand from his grip, I touch his cheeks, making his eyes stay on mine. "No. You never were and never will be at the bottom of my list, Taehyung, because there is no list. I never approached you because I thought you didn't want me. I want all of you. All of you hold a piece of my soul; it won't be complete if I don't have you."

Taehyung doesn't say anything for a minute, only looking into my eyes. As if to ensure himself of the sincerity behind my words. When he finds what he is looking for, he shuts his eyes as he comes closer and rests his head against mine, hands covering my own that are still holding his face.

"Thank you," he whispers. "I really needed to hear that. You have no idea how much I had been thinking about it, but to see that you don't feel or think that way is a huge relief like a weight lifted off my shoulders."

"Well, it's true. And stop looking down at yourself. You are the brain, beauty, and heart, as well as much more. And I am sorry. I should have come to talk to you instead of making any assumptions. I would very much like to know you, Kim Taehyung. If you will let me." I whisper back. Completely baring my heart out in front of him. Because he had as well, and I want him to know that he will not be the only one making efforts in this relationship. We need to start on the right foot again, and that's what I want to make this into. A fresh start.

"I wouldn't want anything more. Thank you. And I'm sorry for calling you a bitch too." He apologizes in his deep, hoarse voice, sending my stomach a tingle.

"I forgive you. I kinda was being a bitch that day." I chuckle, and he follows.

"Yeah, kinda." he says with a teasing smile.

We keep staring into each other's eyes, forgetting that a world outside us exists.

After a couple of minutes pass of us drinking each other, I whisper, "We should get back. Everyone must be wondering."

"Uh-hmm, We should." he agrees but doesn't move.

"Taehyung!" I push at his chest slightly.

"Alright." He backs away but takes my hand, intertwining our fingers, as we move toward the kitchen.

It has been the most intimate and vulnerable moment I have had with any of my soulmates. And I am glad it was with him, since we both are afraid to be vulnerable.

I laugh, remembering how fast we went from screaming at each other to stripping off our defenses and exposing our thoughts.

"What?" he asks, curious to know the reason behind my amusement.

"Nothing. Come." I shake my head, leading him down the hall.

----------------------------------------------------

"Can someone please call and ask Suga Hyung if he'll be here by dinner?" Jungkook asks, too eager to eat the food after having a taste.

"He said he'll be here; why do you want to disturb him?" Jin says, making the younger hit his chest and thus, starting a banter.

"I am hungryyy!! And when Suga hyung gets into work, the concept of time doesn't exist for him. Just ask!!" He whines, not having the patience to savor the delicious taste of the dish again.

"If you are too eager, call and ask him yourself. I am not going to make him annoyed again after last time."

At this, Jungkook pulls out his doe eyes, shining so brightly suddenly, as if on command.

Jin sighs in defeat, "You know, you take advantage of that too much."

He does his bunny smile, happy at his win.

"Alright, but I won't make the call. Let's make the only person he won't be annoyed by call him." Jungkook nods. And they both, at the same time, scream, "J-Hopeeeee!!!!"

The latter jumps at the sudden loud voice, "Yah! I am in the same room as you; Why are you shouting?"

"Hoba, call yoongi and ask him when he'll be home." Jin orders in a stern tone.

"Hyung? Did something happen?" Hoseok asks, a little worried since Jin doesn't use his hyung card much, but when he does, they all get serious.

"Yeah, I need to talk to him. Call him." Jin says and turns around, winking at Jungkook, who gives him a thumbs up for the acting.

He looks at his Hosoek hyung, fumbling to get his phone out in a hurry to make the call. He knows his Yoongi hyung wouldn't scold him either. It's just that he is too lazy to call.

Snickering at the thought of their conversation, he opens up a packet of chips Selene offered him to get his mind off dinner until it's served.

He scans the room, observing everyone as he sits on the hand of the couch beside Jin.

Jimin and Namjoon, talking among themselves as the latter says something to make the former surprised. Jimin's lips jut out, and his eyes go round.

Jin is talking to Selene and Hoseok, but the lady's mind isn't on what Jin is talking about but on something else. She nods, having no idea Jin is spewing about how he regrets the one time when Jimin asked him to bet if the Dolphins can breathe underwater.

He follows her line of sight, only to find that her attention wasn't occupied by something but rather someone.

On the sofa across her sits Taehyung. Both soulmates, not being able to keep their eyes off each other. Jungkook could practically see them radiating tension.

But that's when it hits him. Last he knew, they weren't really on good terms with each other, so how the sudden change? He hadn't seen them talking. And it's like a light turned on in his head; he recalls how both of them, so conveniently, disappeared at the same time.

A mischievous glint appears in his eyes, ready to tease his brother.

"V Hyung?" He calls but fails to catch the attention of his hyung as he only hums and never looks his way.

He grins as he clears his throat, ready to call him once again a little louder. "Taehyung Hyung!" And just as he wanted, not only Taehyung looks his way but the others as well. Curious as to what made the maknae raise his voice.

"Where did you run off to before?"

He watches as Taehyung gives him a look of confusion before opening his mouth, "What?"

"You ran off somewhere before. You don't remember?" He quirks an eyebrow: silently challenging him.

The latter furrows his brows, and then suddenly remembering, he goes, "Oh, Ahem! I went to the restroom. Why?"

"Nothing, you were just gone for quite a while. What were you doing for so long?" He questions further.

"He must have been taking a big shit," but instead of him, Jin answers, making the room burst out in laughter. Taehyung and Selene join in as well, albeit fake.

"Yeah, you caught me, Hyung." He chuckles nervously.

"There is no reason to be ashamed of that Taehyung-ah. We all take shits." Jin says, making everyone snicker again.

"Oh, and Selene! Where had you run off? You took your time as well." Jungkook stirs the bowl again.

"Oh uh, I uh, went to um call, my mom, yes! But I uh, couldn't find my phone, so I was just looking for it." Selene stammers, continuously looking between him and Taehyung, not keeping eye contact with him. As if, if she did, she'll be caught red-handed.

"Oh? But your phone was in the kitchen with you, no? So why would you go look for it in the bedroom?" He quirks an eyebrow at her.

"I didn't go to call my mother. I was in the bedroom when I thought to call and check on her, and thus my search began."

"And why did you go to your bedroom, exactly?" He questions with his hand on his face, fingers rubbing his chin in thought.

"Oh! Quit bothering them, Jungkook-ah. We know what you are trying to do, and we all know what happened." Namjoon speaks, not having the heart to see them more flustered.

At his statement, Selene looks down, while Taehyung stares at Selene with his boxy smile.

"Really? Is it that obvious?" Selene asks.

"No, not for the blind people. But unfortunately, we can see, and you guys have practically been leering at each other ever since you came back." Jimin says, chuckling as he elbows Taehyung.

"Who came back?" a voice calls out, making everyone's head snap in its direction.

"Argh! Finally. How long do you take!? I have been waiting for forever!" Jungkook says as he stands up, and instead of greeting Suga, he runs past him, patting him in the back and towards the kitchen. Grateful for not having to wait any longer.

"Yah! Jungkook! I'm the eldest; I will be having the first plate!" Jin calls out, running not far behind him.

"First try to keep up, old man!"

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worldwithoutmiracles · 2 years

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my ADHD as an adult woman

so I went to a psychologist finally at 28 expecting an anxiety/depression diagnosis, and within about 2 minutes of me talking, the doc interrupted me and said “has anyone ever talked to you about an ADHD diagnosis?”

since being diagnosed and getting put on meds, I have become more aware of the approximately 1,000 very ADHD things I do daily. I have also had probably 10-15 people I know say either “oh yeah, that makes sense, I always figured you had ADHD” or “oh yeah, I was diagnosed a few years ago as well, I figured that’s why we got along so well”. so apparently I was the last to know.

anyways, here are some of my personal symptoms, for whomever this might interest. I have a lot of masking/coping mechanisms, so there are huge parts of ADHD meme culture I can’t relate to (e.g. I never lose things because I am borderline obsessive with organization, I’m never late because I’m always 45 minutes early instead), but a lot of these are common.

talking a lot, talking all the time, talking in every direction. see how I write. see the number of parentheses I use. see how I exceed the word limit on assignments, every time, all the time.

“conflating emotion and time”. time blindness is talked about a lot, and I’ve definitely got it in spades, but I came across this phrase and found it very resonant. I’m all feeling and no context. the question “what did you do last weekend?” is my nightmare.

high pain tolerance/lack of sensitivity to sensation. I’ve always been able to withstand physical pain and discomfort quite easily - tattoos, piercings, walking barefoot on gravel, waxing, the list goes on. but I also have this thing where I can notice I need to pee, and then not get up from my chair for 5 hours. or notice it’s time for me to eat, but I’ll just ignore it (assuming I’m not close to passing out or throwing up from low blood sugar). I drink a lot of water and my friends joke I’m like a camel because I’ll still just pee like twice a day. these sensations are very muted and just honestly not that important.

can’t use the drawers in the fridge because once I can’t see the food it ceases to exist. same with cupboards that are hard to reach, “secret” pockets in purses or bags, basically anything I don’t have a ritual of checking every day. I’m very intentional when putting things away. I have a system. it’s a fucking stupid, inefficient, idiosyncratic system, and it’s extremely rigid. I do not deviate from the script. if the chapstick goes in the front right pocket instead of the front left, all is anarchy, all is lost.

wordplay, music, or some media fixation going in my head 24/7 as background. during conversations, I will literally be doing anagrams, spelling challenges and wordplay based on what people are saying while I listen to them - it’s the only way I can stay engaged. I memorize lyrics to songs obsessively, and I will also skip around my personal jukebox based on keywords from the conversation.

I check and respond to emails and texts immediately after receiving them. I just have to do it this way or I begin to hate and resent the messages, and by extension, my friends. so I am the most responsive person in the world. sorry.

make a lot of careless mistakes because editing/reworking is death

jiggling my foot while reading to stay engaged

hate socks

like to eat, hate the fact I have to eat every day

have to touch every texture while shopping, especially clothes shopping. my sister jokes by the time we’ve left I’ve touched everything in the store. (yeah, ideally)

never fully unpack my bag while traveling because the idea of spreading out too much and having my things in too many places stresses me out - it would be too easy to lose something or leave it behind. I go through rooms/houses/bus seats methodically before leaving them, several times, and have to pat my phone in my pocket 3-4 times before I believe I have it with me.

literally forget that types of weather exist until they reoccur. first cold day of the year I’ll be shivering in a cardigan and then remember “oh yeah, jackets exist” because they are in my coat closet I haven’t opened in 3 months so I forgot about them (not only forgetting the ones I own, but the literal concept of jackets). on the plus side, I am constantly delighted to rediscover the cute umbrella that I have owned for 6 years.

so physically clumsy. just slamming into every doorway, every counter, shattering every glass, covered in mystery paper cuts and bruises, constantly literally beating myself up and then figuratively beating myself up for being an oaf.

feeling like a burden, feeling like a fuck-up, over-explaining myself, desperately trying to find some explanation for why I’m so “lazy” when I actually care more about some things than anyone would ever dream

leaving every gathering like “god, I am such an overbearing moron, why can’t I just stop interrupting people and shut up for once” and then talking to someone and getting excited and thinking of a joke and shouting it out and let’s do the time warp again!

okay, I literally have to cut myself off or I will write for hours. overall, I like my brain. it’s a noisy place, but it’s taken care of me the best it can for the last 28 years. I just can’t believe that the place I spend so much time in had this dimension to it (ADHD) that I never knew. and having a name for it and a community of fellow neurodiverse people has made more of a difference to me than I ever would have guessed it would.

(if you read all this you’re a fucking saint. also probably don’t have ADHD lol)

#life #neurodivergent #adhd #adhd stuff #mood #neurodiverse #actually adhd #adult adhd #great wall of text

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oldguy56-world · 9 months

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Barbie

We all know the way Hollywood works. If something is successful it will be copied and copied and copied until the original hit movie gets lost in the shuffle. We are on the precipice of that happening now.

There have been board games in the past that were made into movies (Clue and Battleship to name a couple) lots of video games and Barbie isn't even the first doll movie. (Yes gentlemen, if you had a GI Joe when you were growing up you were playing with a doll. Accept that fact and move on)

With Barbie we have a good old fashioned phenomena based on the number of people that have watched it after just 10 days. Normally there would be a cheap knock off in theaters within a couple of weeks but with the writers and actors on strike that will not happen. Maybe that is a good thing. If there is going to be a copycat movement perhaps the writers can use this down time to create some really good stuff.

Naturally I already have some ideas cooking that I truly believe would be the next big hit movie at the theaters based on a doll. I am even throwing in another toy that has some possibilities.

Chatty Cathy. (Psychological thriller) An intense woman just can't stop talking, driving everyone around her insane. The sound of her voice is grating on everyone and the incessant chatter is soul numbing. Starring Rosie O'Donnell. If you want to make it a comedy instead give her Tourrette's.

Mr. Potato Head. (Crime Drama) A master of disguise works for the NYC police department solving crimes. When he finds a witness he brings them in to sit with an Etch-a-Sketch artist. Starring anyone but Dana Carvey. (Kudos to anyone that gets that inside joke)

Betsy Wetsy. (Hallmark movie of the week) A lonely woman seeks love but she has a problem: she pees when she laughs, she pees when she cries, she pees at work, she pees at home. How will she meet Mr. Right? Depends. Starring Meryl Streep in a career defining role.

Cabbage Patch Dolls. (Horror) A maniac stalks a family of rich women to butcher them to make cold slaw for his restaurant. Starring all of the Kardashian/Jenner clan.

Skipper. (Action/Revenge) A woman resents all of the attention her older sister gets so she goes on a mission to destroy her sibling's idyllic life. Starring Haylie Duff.

Polly Pocket, (Super Hero) a young woman who has been ridiculed her entire life for her small stature falls asleep at a nuclear waste site and develops super powers. After getting revenge on her oppressors she goes on to defend the world against injustice and height requirements at Disneyland. Starring Snooki.

Play Dough Movie. (Claymation) A group of lazy couch potatoes travel to Hollywood searching for their childhood idols: Gumby and Pokey. Starring any group of Gen Z people they can convince to put down their phones.

THOUGHT OF THE WEEK: Copying can be good but nothing beats originality.

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fellasleepinbaltimore · 9 months

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also my 9 hour shift at non descript fast food establishment during a rush made me kinda hate people... like their voices their stupid pauses uuuhhhh.... can I get uhhhh.... the way they don't speak clearly or loud enough and it's like... you don't fucking care!! you don't care that there are 9 cars in this line rn and more keep showing up as long as you get ur XYZ with XYZ and GOD FORBID!!!! GOD FORBID!!! HEAVEN STRIKE THE EARTH!!! that in the 27 cars we get in 45 minutes you have the wrong order, DISREGARD!! THE FACT THIS IS MORE THAN A DRIVE THRU!! THERES TBE DINNING ROOM AND UBER/DOOR DASH ORDERS TOO!!! no like fuck offf

and like I know these people are human and I don't hate them or genuinely think they're dumb or anything or like mean spirited but I am resentful of them particularly when it's like I can't go pee rn bc u want it XYZ with like 5 modifications scthyhg and I'm not abandoning my coworkers in this moment and like the way they speak to me or like idk it's just the whole thing today had me like... can y'all please just know your order, speak as clearly and loudly with CORRECT!! ETIQUETTE like idk it was just... yeah... anyway

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beezuzz · 9 months

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July 19th, I wanted today to be dark and gloomy. Even though it’s my mothers bday today I feel like I should be the day of my death. I haven’t felt this dark in a very long time, this is the demon of depression, it’s so deeply rooted in me, but it makes sense, I’ve lived my whole life with it, since I can remember, since I was 9 years old. I don’t really know how to live without it, we just fight and coexist. I do have to say that I’ve learned to control this demon, most good days I’m a giver, I make sure I let my loved ones know I love them, I cook for them or do acts of service, because that’s the way I grew up. Always taking care of my moms emotions or making sure she’s ok. I don’t think I live for myself, I live for others because for some reason I feel like I have no value, I have no talents, I’ve never been good at anything other than pretending I’m ok.

You know when you grow up being silly so you can make them smile? It was always just the 3 of us and he hurt her deeply, for the longest time I thought I was the only one that could save her. I felt abandoned by him for the longest time, but I think I forgave him eventually because he showed me he changed. But there is a part of me that never healed, I miss the experiences I never had, I miss the things I never did, but how? I never did them, why do they matter. I think the resentment comes from feeling like I had potential, but it was never a priority for anyone. I guess I never felt important, and I still don’t because idk how that feels like. It’s unknown to me.

But anyway, going back to the feelings of not feeling like I have value, I personally think of myself as a burden, I break the things I touch, I am afraid always, I live in constant survival..I wish I didn’t need to live like this, I take medicine and I do therapy, but I’m so good at masking. If people really knew how dark my head is I would go back to a place where I have no control and I never want to go there again, they don’t even let you pee in peace! These patterns of depression are so well known to me, they’re my nature, so I know they’ll pass, and I never commit scd because I know it will pass. However the idea of fading away and not feeling seems so appealing, it just evolves and grows, I want to be dead I don’t want to feel, I know people wouldn’t ever love my darkness and I can’t live hiding it. I wish God would just have mercy of me and end it all, I wish it wasn’t up to me, I don’t have the guts to do it.

I know for a fact, my family would be so much better without me, and stop don’t say it! Don’t say that’s not true, I bring nothing but burden and insecurities, I bring nothing but my own pain and I hurt others, I am a horrible mother, I am a horrible wife, I am a horrible friend, I am horrible daughter and sister. As a woman I suck, I don’t know how to be it, I have no control over my fears and my emotions. I explode and I can’t control this feeling of pressure that just invades my chest and constrict every cell in me it’s like I can’t breathe because I know deep down I’m just taking away from humans that truly deserve it. I’ve always been a burden, I’ve always been their biggest mistake.

My children deserve a mom that likes affection, my children deserve a mom with patience, their biggest flaws came from me, like insecurities and adhd. I feel the guilt and the weight because I can’t make it better, I can barely get out of bed and I’m supposed to help them navigate life? I can’t even do that myself. If he found a better woman and if she wasn’t broken and if she could give them all things I don’t have, that would be the best gift to these babies. If I was dead I wouldn’t be able to hurt them, or cause pain.

He deserves a wife that likes affection, and being hugged, I hated being cuddled at night, I feel restricted and it causes me anxiety… he deserves a companion that wants to be adventurous and always hot just like him. Not an insecure woman that lives in fear, that can’t let go of the pain that came when she was a little girl.

My neighbors abused me sexually when I was little, it started when i was like 4 or 5 years old. I have memories of the things they did, I have also blocked memories but have unblocked some. I think maybe that’s why there’s so much wrong with me? Idk I just live with this grudge and this hate and this pain I hate my self I hate me with passion. It’s been like 26 years and I can’t stop thinking about it. I know one of the roots of this depression is that abuse, I know they ruined me and there’s no going back. I just wish it didn’t affect me this much…

I know I am pathetic, a 31 yr old woman venting on here, trust me I know! It’s stupid, but it helps me when I write down, when I just leave it here and maybe someone that feels the same way can relate? Who knows idk… but I wish one day my babies forgive me for being so bad and for ruining their lives. I know one day I’ll be gone and they’ll be better without me, without my stupid pain and my lame mental health excuses. I know many people live with these sorts of problems, it’s not just me. I know! I’m aware of how stupid I sound, if I had a gun I’d end it, because wow Ginger you are just lame and literally there is no use, I’m just a copy of a broken person, like a zombie. There’s so many of us and I just know their life would be so much better without me!

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parttimebrat · 1 year

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When my angry/scared voice (better know as anxiety/panic) won't shut the hell up, I remind myself that MY LIFE IS GOOD. This is my list. Feel free to make your own!

1) My house is everything I need.

2) My hips and thighs tell no lies.

3) Good? Not with my family's history of dying from heart disease. Marginal at best but I can work with that!

4) Yes I do! But if you piss me off I hope every tractor on earth gets in front of you on winding country 2 lane roads with no passing zone and you desperately need to pee and that thumbtacks magically appear in your house shoes.

5) Clean? Well...my tap never runs dry and I'm thankful!

6) I have 12 dogs and cats. I KNOW I'm loved. I'm the keeper of the treats. 😆

7) I absolutely do! If you're not working toward something better, you're sliding back into old habits!

8) Yes!!! I am thankful everyday for my endless wash pile. Sure, I think about lighting a match and walking away but under the resentment and anger is thankfulness. I swear!

9) I do. Several in fact. See number 7.

10) As an asthmatic, I NEVER take this for granted!! N.E.V.E.R!! Struggling to breathe, knees going weak, and knowing that you've probably inhaled the last full breath you'll ever get makes the world shrink down to the most basic element of all; love because that's all that matters.

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petdogs · 16 days

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How do I get my dog to stop peeing in his bed?

Dogs require ongoing attention and potty training while they are puppies. However, it's unlikely that you anticipated that bedwetting would also come with the deal. Perhaps you've wondered, "Why do dogs urinate on beds?" Is it an authoritative message? Are they, in some way, retaliating against their owners?

Those aren't the facts, any of them. Dogs don't have a human perspective on urination, nor do they act with resentment. Dogs love to smell pee, as you may have observed if you've ever seen them enjoying the aroma coming from the nearby fire hydrant. Dogs urinate on beds for a variety of reasons. How you handle the issue will depend on the underlying cause. Read More...

#Why does my dog pee on the bed?#How do you fix dog urine on a bed?#How to Stop Your Dog From Peeing on His Bed #Dogs #What caused my dog to urinate on their bed?#pets #dog #puppy

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maraczeks · 4 years

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parasite thread pt 2

#apr 27 2020 #survival #WHEN THEY FELL DOWNTHE STAIRS HDJSJDKD #HSJDKDKSKDKDKS #and the camera angles #king sh!t #power is so evasive dam #truly the people's film #i knew it #i frickin knew it #this is so intense #also couldve called it sabotage and survival #love being Aware™️#this flashback? arthur miller could never #jeez this is good imagery #i resent the fact that i have to pee #opposite sides of the same scale as cra #up down and up and down #this just got real awkward #why do we need to watch this .....#LOL at first i thought it was mr kim snoring #emergency! i cant sleep what a mood #unrelated but i desperately miss the rain #aauevehehhgeherrrrrrggghhhh gross #i dont think. its possible for a film to live up to this master piece #ugh the director #his mind #i was clenching my stomach so hard during the sewage part #oo and a dash of existentialism to spice things up!#wait i just realized da hye is like 15 brehh

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rrickgrrimes8 · 3 years

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hi! i was thinking if you could write an imagine of reader being rick and lori's daughter and sister to carl, rj and judith. i don't have a specific idea in mind, but just her before and after the time jump, struggling with being there when lori and carl died, and looking for rick with daryl, her relationship with her siblings and michonne, maybe maggie and hershel too (i was thinking since carl was 10 when it all started, she was 7 so now she's 17) thank you so much, and btw i loved your imagines i've read so far 💞

Being a Grimes ~ Rick Grimes x Grimes!reader

thank you so much for requesting i really enjoyed making this one. i also have a series kinda like this about Jacey Grimes which i’m currently making a book two for.

warnings: alluding to sexual assault or rape, suicide, death, gore (lemme know if i’ve missed anything off here)

sorry if there is any mistakes please tell if there is and give me feedback i’d love to here back from yall

masterlist

request guidelines

request are open

It was strange for y/n. This world would be strange for anyone really. But she was different. At only a mere 7 years old when the world went to shit she struggled as did many others. With the recent loss of her father - one she didn't entirely understand - still protruding through her heart, it was hard - so hard.

When it happened she was at daycare. The teaching assistant tried and successfully ate the teacher in front of her. She was next and was so close to being eaten until Shane rushed in. He kicked Ms Twune and grabbed y/n. Her mom sobbed at the sight of her, covered in blood and the tears smothering her daughters face. Carl was shocked too. He wanted nothing more than to protect his little sister. His dad always used to tell him that that was his duty - his job. And he hated how he had failed in this moment.

They made it to the quarry soon after. Y/n thought the group was nice - well mostly. The Dixon brothers scared her was what she told her brother or any of the children she had befriended. But she was lying. Yes, she was scared but only of Merle. He was creepy and mean to anyone he saw. Daryl was somewhat the same but he always found himself being nicer to the young child. And often kept her company when Lori and Shane went for a ‘walk’ in the woods. Glenn was another she found herself drawn to. He unlike Daryl happily invited her company. Glenn was sweet and funny. He never failed at making her laugh till she felt like she was going to pee. They were good friends which came to a fault when he had to go on runs. She’d scream and cry and refuse to let go of him because she was afraid that what happened to her father would happen to him.

That’s what happened earlier that morning. Glenn and a few others were going into Atlanta, despite her dismay. Glenn assured her he’d be fine, which she didn't believe and continued her tantrum.

“Can yer’ shut that damn baby up?” Merle spat covering his ears.

Shane shot him a threatening glare while Glenn stayed preoccupied with the distraught girl. “Hey, it's okay. I’m coming back,” He insisted holding her tightly at his hip, “I promise you, sweet girl.”

“No, b-b-but dada promise too a-a-and h-he,” She stopped herself, sobs erupting from her small body.

“I know sweet girl, I know. But I’ll be back I know I will.” Glenn placed her on the back of the RV, “I tell you what I’ll bring you back some of your favourite sweeties, huh? Would you like that?”

Giddily she nodded at his proposition, “Yes! Yes!”

“Alright, then I’ll bring back some for you, okay?” She nodded smiling cheerfully, “I love you, kid.”

“I luv you too, dumbass,” y/n giggled.

Glenn looked around cautiously hoping no one heard that “Hey sweet girl you can't say that.”

“W-what? Why?” the child began to cry again, “Y-y-you say it.”

“I know b-but its adult words okay? Not y/n words. When you're older, alright?” She nodded her head again kissing his cheeks softly and hugging him. “Thank you, sweet girl. I’ll see you soon,” He kissed the top of her head and started towards the car smiling as she shouted, “With sweeties!”

The group returned hours later bearing a new man instead of Merle. Y/n waited patiently for Glenn and the aforementioned sweets. "Gen!" She screamed happily still unable to say his name fully. The man sprinted over to her, pulling her into a much-needed cuddle after the day he had.

"It's Glenn, sweetheart," He chuckled while correcting.

"Oh sorry Gen," She wrapped her dainty arms around his neck.

"That's okay, sweet girl. I missed you."

"I missed you too," She whispered before letting out a longwinded 'ew', "You stinky, Gen."

The man smelt his shirt and nodded as the potent smell of walkers reached his nose. "I know yucky right?"

"Yucky!" Y/n buried her face in Glenn's shirt ignoring the stench and just enjoying his company. She always became clingy like this after coming home from a run. He loved it. On runs, if he ever encountered a life-threatening situation - like the one today - he always finds himself realising how much she means to him. Glenn saw her as a little sister - one almost replacing the ones that were cruely ripped from him when this began.

"How was it?" She inquired.

"Not fun, sweet girl. But I got your sweeties and a nice man helped us out. Saved us," She beamed.

"I like the good man. I'll give him two kisses when I see him. Maybe even one of my sweeties," Glenn chuckled.

"Why two kisses, y/n?"

"One for saving you. Two for bringing you hom," Glenn grinned contently and kissed her forehead.

"Its home bubs with an e on the end."

"Oh," She mumbled burying herself again.

"Oh my God," Someone muttered as they exited the van.

"Dad! Dad!" Carl screamed causing Glenn to snap his head in their direction. Carl came running towards the man, Rick, who had saved them in Atlanta. Y/n hadn't moved yet as she feared it was only a dream. That her dada wasn't really here.

"Sweet girl," He pulled her out of his neck, "Look it's your dad." The child gazed over to where her brother had run to. Sure enough, it was her dad. He held Carl as he cried, looking to Y/n wanting to hold her too.

"Dada!" She screamed jumping out of Glenn's arms dangerously. The girl scraped her knee on the way down but continued throwing herself into the hug.

"Oh, Carl! Y/n!" She kissed all over his face childishly, "I luv you, dada."

"I love you too, baby girl."

The years hadn't been kind to Y/n. She lost so much. Too much in fact that it had driven her to the depts of insanity and made her do things to herself, to others that she more than resented. The first loss was her mothers. She wasn't there like Carl was but the grief burned through her still. Y/n was too young to understand it really. Just how she was when Rick supposedly died. Y/n couldn't understand where her mom had gone she just knew she had a little sister now. One she swore to protect.

She thought she had failed that when the prison fell. The young child was on her own. Injured and lost. She wandered through the woods for days until she stumbled across a group. The group were mean and despite her resistance wouldn't let her go. They hurt her in ways she didn't and wouldn't speak of it even now. But that all changed when Daryl showed up. He protected her - stopped them from hurting her. And eventually led her back to her family. Where for the first time she began to fear her father.

Terminus was next. The people there snatched her from her family. She was forced to watch from afar as they were guided into the crate. Rick fought against them, Carl too but it was to no use. They had sectioned her off in a playroom. Every once in a while an older woman came in to fed and played with her. She hated it. Being in this world for more than a year now she knew that people like them didn't just want to play even if she did. She learnt that from the Claimers.

Carol found her. Although having never have been all that close to the older woman - the only relation being the closeness between y/n and Sophia - seeing her after so long made her cry out of joy. Carol was happy too as she rushed out of that place to take her to safety. The pair ended up in the woods. Carol had stopped a moment ago to clean the dirt from her face, "lemme help."

The girl sat up from where she was put down and cupped some water splashing it on Carol's face. Carol flinched as the water hit her, "Uh thank you."

"Welcome," She looked away getting distracted by the nearing sound of footsteps.

"Get behind me, y/n," Carol ordered to which she shook her head.

"No it dada," She ran away from the woman and towards the group.

"Y/n come back here!" Y/n continued ignoring Carols pleas and crashed herself into the back of Rick's legs.

The father shot around and began to cry as he saw the child he thought he lost at his feet. "Oh, baby!" He collected the girl in his arms. Carl rushed to them too happy to see her alive after Gareth claimed he killed her. "Oh y/n, never leave me again, okay?" He looked directly into her matching blue eyes, "Promise me."

"I promise, dada."

Later Carol led them to Judith. Y/n was over the moon and refused to let her out of her sight, which was exactly what Rick was doing too. They found the church a while after. There they had some semblance of peace. She was glad to have Glenn back - Maggie too. Along with the new people although Eugene was a bit weird.

At the church was also when the questions started. Daryl had told Rick about the group they were with and regretfully had to inform the father how she was there before him. Rick asked y/n - begged her - to tell her what happened. But she refused. She couldn't say what happened. What they did, which just made Rick fear more. Eventually, she spoke a little about it. She was vague and could barely string two words together without crying. He hated it. He hated how this was a reality for his daughter. He saw the bruises they left. And he couldn't understand how someone could touch his child. Or how he could be so powerless to stop it.

Bob died. She didn't really know the man but it still upset her. Beth too. Although she was a lot closer to her. Beth was one of her only friends and was someone who would look after her when her father couldn't. They bonded and now she was gone.

After Beth's demise, they spent lots of time on the road. They suffered, almost died countless times but they prevailed. They got stronger - she got stronger. And they eventually found Alexandria. There everything was good again like how it was at the prison or even before this hell. She liked it there and didn't understand why the others were so sceptical.

Though that didn't last for long. Y/n began to hate the place when Carl got shot. Alexandria almost stole her brother from her. So she despised it. She refused to leave her brother's side as he adjusted to his injury. Yes, he found it annoying how she wouldn't leave him be and he often snapped at her. But she was there when he needed her. Despite the age difference and the many years of memories they had lost to this fight, she understood his pain. When he saw himself as ugly, a monster even, she made him think otherwise. She kept him afloat, which he was eternally thankful for.

Glenn was next.

She didn't believe it even after she was forced to see it with her own two eyes. She was next to Glenn in the lineup. She had to watch up close. Y/n had to be mocked by that man. She had to stay the whole night with her best friends brains on her face. After that night she blamed herself. She told herself that if Negan was just one person off she would be dead and he would live. He would get to see his child born and grow old with Maggie like they had spoken about. She wholeheartedly believed he deserved to live over her.

The war with Negan shook her to the core. At the time his face filled her nightmares. He just looked so normal. He looked nice even. Yet he hurt and he hurt and he hurt.

He killed her Glenn. And then Carl. It wasn't Negans fault although she did blame him. Carl had gotten bit. Y/n held his hand as he died in that tunnel as the home they had built above them fell. She got a letter too - even though she would rather have preferred to have her brother back. In the letter, Carl told her how proud he was of her - how thankful he was to have her as a sister. He told her to protect Judith, their dad and Michonne, who she had recently begun to call momma.

After Carl's death, y/n shut herself from the world well everyone except her father. For days she would cry until she couldn't anymore. She would scream and scream until her voice was gone. She just didn't understand why it had to be Carl? Why mom? Why Glenn? Why Beth? Why was it never her? The following weeks she found herself wishing it would be her next. She could never bring herself to say it out loud but with any battle, any fight, anything, she wished it would be her.

So when she lost her father her whole world fell apart. He was her consistent so why did he leave her? She was at the bridge that day. Daryl held her crying frame as Rick set off that final shot blowing him and the walkers off the bridge. Y/n Grimes' father was dead.

She stayed in Alexandria for a while afterwards. For the sole reason to protect her siblings. Yes, siblings - plural. Somehow through all the bad some good came from it. She just wished her father and Carl could've seen it. RJ Grimes came into this world 9 months later. And he was perfect. For months she would assist in taking care of him as Michonne wasn't doing the greatest without the love of her life. Truth be told neither was y/n she was just better at hiding it.

Until one night it all became too much. Y/n didn't know how it happened but she found herself balancing on the edge of her window. She wanted to jump - to end it. But she just couldn't will herself to do it. And when Daryl showed up she knew she couldn't. "Hey step away from ta window, alrigh'," The man ordered as he saw her shaking frame rocking back and forth.

"I-i can't," She sobbed.

"Ye' ya can. Jus' step back I'll catch ya," Daryl moved closer but paused when she shouted to stop.

"I can't, Daryl. They're all gone. They're all dead," The tears clouded her eyes. She shut them tightly picturing her families faces wanting so badly to join them.

"Please jus' step back, y/n. Yer' not alone. I'm here," He croaked the tears floating down his cheeks, "Don't jump."

"I love you, Daryl."

"I love ya too, okay? So step away from the window," He watched as she turned her head slightly catching his eyes.

"I love you but I can't. Tell mom, RJ and Judy I love them as well."

Suddenly she went to fall forward but Daryl reacted quicker. He gripped her waist pulling her into the room unwilling to release his grasp. "Yer' not leaving me," He told her as she cried into his shoulder, "Yer' cant leave me." Overhearing the chaos, Michonne entered her daughter's room to see the window wide open and the two of them crying. Daryl looked at her. The look telling her all she needed to know. Michonne began to cry herself and joined them on the ground.

"Y/n?" A small voice called from the door frame.

"Judith go back to bed, okay?" Michonne told her but Judith continued towards her sister. The girl said nothing as she wiped her sister's tears and held her hand.

It was 5 years later now. After her attempt, she left Alexandria with Daryl in search of her father. She didn't believe he was alive despite everything inside her wanting to. But Daryl did and after what happened they became a lot closer. He was happy she joined him. Even though the act of being out there was gruelling at times he was glad he could look after her. And if something would've happened to her while he was gone he could never have forgiven himself. Understandably Michonne was angry that y/n decided to leave. Y/n was her daughter and Michone her mother. They needed each other but she was willing to let Y/n leave to figure that out. It brought her peace looking for her father.

The silence was her favourite and as Daryl wasn't much of a talker she got lots of it. They got a dog too, which Daryl cleverly named Dog. Everything was a messed up version of okay but it was still good. Being out there made her find her purpose. She went home a lot more than Daryl did, which pleased her siblings and mother. It was always for a few days never longer as she feared she'd stay forever and she couldn't. As much as Alexandria is good it also drives y/n to a dark place. One she was in that night. She lost so much there. And staring at those four walls drove her insane. It didn't help how Negan was imprisoned there. Just thinking how close he was made her skin crawl. She knew how Rick visited him when he was alive that he believed Carl was right about the killing. That it had to stop. Y/n knew he was right too but she could never bring herself to one admit or two face Negan.

It felt like a story she read as a child when the Whisperers showed up. Like Negan, they scared her. So when she was told about his escape she only assumed the worst. The Whisperers took so many from them. Like Enid for example. Her story was cut short because of them. The two never really spoke but she understood how she and Carl felt for each other at a time. So ultimately it felt like she lost her final piece of Carl when she died. Y/n wished she had spoken to her when she could've. She wished she could've heard the untold stories they shared. She needed to know about Carl's final years with her. But now she's gone too along with those memories.

The war with the Whisperers took everything from them. The Kingdom. Hilltop. Alexandria. Along with the lives they lost in the process. With the group separated she found herself protecting Judy and RJ. Michonne had gone. Where she had gone to, y/n had no idea. For a messed up reason, she began to prepare herself for her mother's death before it was even announced. That was until she got the call. She was okay and... apparently so was Rick.

Disbelief was what hit her first. She couldn't hear his voice nor see his face so how could she know it was true. Michonne didn't know either she couldn't if he was really there, still alive. That night of the call she left. Without hesitation, she kissed RJ and Judith's heads, told them she loved them and told them to tell everyone else that and left. She left in the direction Michonne had told her.

She left to find her father. And she knew she wouldn't return until she did. "I'm coming, dad."

#the walking dead imagine #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes x grimes!reader #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes imagine #carl grimes x grimes!reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #michonne x reader #michonne x daughter!reader #rick grimes #carl grimes #daryl dixon #michonne #rick grimes daughter #the walking dead request

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tomurasprincess · 4 years

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Deceptive (Shindou Yo x Reader)

Pairing: Shindou Yo x Reader Warnings: noncon, blackmail, stalking, manipulation, overstimulation, yandere Word Count: 2.5k Note: A yandere prompt getting away from me again? Perish the thought! At least I have a good reason for this one though, as it’s Shindou’s birthday.

~~~~

You really hate Shindou Yo. You had decided this shortly after meeting him, in fact. He is cocky, a flirt who seems to think every woman he meets should throw themselves at his feet in adoration.

Even worse was the utter fakeness about him that you instantly saw through. His nice guy persona was just that, a persona. Something he put on to hide the true man underneath. You resent the fact that you’re the only one who seems to notice it, the only one who is wary around him.

Shindou knows it, too. His eyes turned calculating when you first met him, instantly sensing that you didn’t buy the act he put on. After that, he made it his mission to win you over, one way or the other. He followed you around to force you into talking to him, gave you expensive gifts, asked you out on dates.

But the more you refused him, the harder he pursued you, like a fly that refused to be swatted. You started trying to avoid him completely, but it was hard to avoid someone who works at the same hero agency as you do.

You suspect he was the one responsible for some of your usual patrols getting switched around so that you would be forced to pair up with him. And with him being a higher ranked hero than you are, you had no choice but to go along with it without complaint.

That led to your current situation, hiding out with Shindou in some abandoned warehouse while you wait for a meeting between several troublesome villains.

“We’ve been waiting for so long,” you sigh for what feels like the hundredth time. “I don’t think these villains are going to show.”

“So impatient, sweetheart,” he laughs. “Don’t worry, it will be worth our time.”

“I don’t even know why they have us waiting for these guys.” You roll your eyes. “They’re small fry, not anyone higher level pro heroes like us should be chasing down.”

Shindou smiles as if you just told a good joke. “Oh, that’s because you’re exactly right.”

You glance at him sharply. “What the hell do you mean?”

“You heard me. Those villains are being taken care of by interns in another location.”

Alarm bells begin to ring in your ears. “Then why are we waiting here,” you ask cautiously.

“You’ve been avoiding me the past few weeks.” He grins, and it’s not the fake smile of the cheerful nice guy that the media knows him as. It’s the true smile of Shindou Yo, the darkness peering through that you knew was there. “I don’t like to be ignored.”

“What the hell - you made this up to get me alone?” Your voice rises in anger as you glare at him, but he simply gives you his signature infuriating smirk.

“That is fucked up!” You abruptly stand up and move to leave. “I’m going to report this, and then I’ll never have to deal with you again.” Before you can take two steps away from him, you feel him grab your ankle and activate his quirk.

You let out a choked gasp, your knees buckling and collapsing at the strength of the vibrations coursing through your leg. Before you can hit the ground, Shindou catches you and forces you down face first onto the cold, dirty concrete floor. “Oh, that’s sure as hell not going to happen, sweetheart.”

“Let me go, you piece of shit,” you hiss as you kick your legs out to try and gain leverage. He simply presses himself harder against your back, holding you in place with sheer brute force. He is so much bigger than you are and he has you in an awkward position to fight back. You can’t even hope to use your quirk in this situation, and he must know that.

“You think I don’t notice how much you want me?” He grinds his hips into your ass, and you can already feel the considerable bulge in his hero suit. “You’re just playing hard to get.”

“No I’m not, you fucking creep,” you try to slam your head back into him to loosen his grasp, but he anticipates this and activates his quirk again.

The vibrations course through your whole body this time, causing a scream to rip out of you as you feel weakness overtake your body. You drop limply in his grasp, gasping in exertion.

He gives you a malicious chuckle. “Be a good girl and I’ll make you feel good.” As he says this, his hands run up and down your sides, caressing and stroking your skin through your clothes.

He knots his fingers into your hair as he pulls your back into an arch so that he can plant hot, open mouthed kisses down your neck. You whimper and try to squirm away, but you only succeed in grinding your ass harder against Shindou’s erection, causing a groan to slip from his mouth.

“Fuck, just keep doing that.” You feel him lift himself off of you just enough to rip your hero suit right down the middle like it was nothing but paper. Before you can even move away, he lifts your hips up to put you fully on your hands and knees, head still pressed against the floor.

He works your clothes all the way off of you before slipping down your panties to expose your heated core. “God, you have such a pretty pussy, sweetheart.” He reaches down to spread your lips open for him. “I can’t wait to be inside of you.”

You let out an embarrassed whine, your cheeks burning with shame as he looks at your bare pussy. You try to close your legs, only for him to force them back open with a chuckle. “So shy, baby~ You shouldn’t be so shy, you’re my perfect Angel.”

You hear a sudden buzzing behind you, and you try to lift your head up to see what he’s doing, only for him to grab your head and force it back down. “Or you will be once I get done with you,” he snickers darkly.

He strokes a single finger down the length of your folds, gathering your wetness on his finger and using it to stroke tight circles around your clit. “I knew you wanted this. You’re so fucking wet, and I haven’t even started.” He leans down to start kissing and licking down your back, forcing a shudder out of you.

“Please no, I don’t want this,” you whimper, as you try to get him to turn away from the path he’s decided to take. “Just stop and I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

“You sound so fuckin’ cute when you beg,” he chuckled. “Makes me want to hear it more often.”

He activates his quirk with two fingers directly on your clit, and you let out a wanton moan at the feeling that only gets louder as the pulses get more intense. You gasp and try to buck away from the sudden intensity of it, but he refuses to let you move. You’re horrified to feel the pleasure building up inside of you, the realization that you’re going to cum so quickly from his fingers alone.

You struggle with yourself, trying to will yourself not to, but these thoughts fly from your head in favor of pure sensation as he slips two fingers inside of you suddenly. You gasp and tremble as your orgasm crests over you, walls clenching around his fingers.

“Oh, good fucking girl, cum all over my fingers,” he praises you as his fingers curl up against your walls and begin to vibrate against a spot inside of you that you’ve never even touched yourself. When he realizes that he found the right spot, he abuses it relentlessly, pressing his fingers hard against it as his other hand continues to stroke and vibrate against your clit.

You feel yourself rapidly coming undone again, the pressure inside of you building and building while you try and resist the sudden urge to pee. “Stop stop stop, it feels so weird,” you whine as you begin to squirm at the unfamiliar sensation.

“Yeah? Just let it happen, sweetheart,” he coos at you as he scrapes your walls at just the right angle. You squeal as you’re pushed over the edge, cunt clenching down as you feel fluids gushing out of you and onto Shindou’s arm and chest. Your head falls back as you pant and try to catch your breath.

“I - I’ve never,” you begin to say before you trail off mid sentence, unsure how to finish.

“So I was the first to make you squirt, huh?” He gives you a cocky smirk, obviously enjoying the fact that he forced you into it. “Fucking hell, that’s so hot.”

“Please, you’ve had your fun,” you whisper as a tear runs down your face. “Just let me go now.”

“I’ve had my fun?” His face looks incredulous. “I made you cum twice, once so hard that you squirted. You mean to tell me you don’t think you should take care of me, too?” His voice sounds so reasonable, so genuinely questioning that you almost agree before you come to your senses.

“No! I don’t want this,” you protest loudly, “I don’t want any of this!”

“Well too fucking bad,” he growls. “Maybe you should have thought about that before you were a spoiled fucking princess.”

You hear his clothes rustling as he unzips his pants, and you shiver in a mixture of anticipation and fear. You’re still trembling from the aftershocks of your intense orgasm, feeling wrung out and tired already and he’s not even inside of you.

You feel his cock prod at your entrance, and you shoot a quick glance behind you, this time with him allowing you to. You glance between his legs, and your eyes widen and your cunt clenches at the sight behind you.

Shindou is a big man, and it makes sense that his cock would be equally large. But you were not anticipating just how large. He’s both thick and long, with a prominent vein running all the way down his length that has you licking your lips.

He languidly pumps his cock in his fist as his smirk widens to see you openly staring. He gathers the precum leaking from the tip of his cock and uses it to stroke up and down his length. “Like what you see?”

“N-n no,” you whisper hotly, although your voice trembles at the denial. Despite everything, your skin feels like it’s on fire despite the coldness of the warehouse you’re in and your pussy is throbbing with the need to be filled.

“You’re such a terrible liar,” he laughs as he begins to push inside of you. Your cunt is dripping from your previous orgasms, but it’s still not enough to stop the burn of him stretching you out. Your walls tighten around his cock as it tries to force his cock back out.

You pant and moan as you feel him sliding inside of you inch by inch, the veins on his cock pressing against your slick walls and causing you to go insane with wanting more of him. You let out a loud whine when he finally bottoms out inside of you, barely stopping yourself from grinding back into him.

You don’t think you have ever felt this full, this stretched out. Until he begins to move. Your breathless gasps and moans fill the warehouse, along with the wet sounds of his balls smacking into your clit with every thrust.

“You take my cock so well, sweetheart.” He grabs hold of your hips to pull you back towards him in time with his thrusts, and you just know you’re going to be bruised once he’s done. You barely stop your whimper, and you feel rather than hear the rumble of his laughter.

“Oh, you like it when I praise you, huh?” This time you don’t stop your whimper at his words as you clench down around his length. “Of course you do, you’re such a good girl for me.”

Everything feels so good that your head feels like it’s spinning. You feel waves of pleasure building up to what feels like another powerful orgasm.

“Please, oh fuck,” you hiss under your breath.

“What was that, sweetheart? Speak up, I can’t hear you.” Shindou’s voice comes out cocky, and you know if you could see him he’d be wearing that infuriating smirk.

“Please, I need - “

He reaches around to stroke your clit gently, but not enough to give you any real friction. The need to cum is almost painful now. “Yeah? What do you need?”

You finally throw your shame out the window. “I need to cum! Please let me cum!”

“Say my name, sweetheart, and I’ll let you.”

“Please, Shindou - “

He tsks. “Not that name.” He puts a bit more pressure on your throbbing clit, barely activating his quirk before instantly deactivating it again.

“Yo, please let me cum!” You let out a choked sob.

The sudden strong pulsing against your clit has you seeing stars, the waves of pleasure finally peaking as you come undone around his cock. Your fluttering walls has him groaning as he finds his own end, hot ropes of cum coating your insides. He stays inside of you until he fully empties himself inside of you before pulling out.

You suddenly hear the click of a shutter, and panic flows through you and turns your veins to ice. You sit up quickly to see him taking pictures of his cum sliding out of your cunt.

“What, I wanted something to remember this by,” he grins, that easy going grin that has everyone fooled. But then that grin turns darker, sharper. “And I also wanted something to keep you in line.”

Your heart drops into your stomach at his words as you realize the implications of what he’s saying.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, sweetheart. You’re going to continue to work with me as my official sidekick. You’re going to do what I say, when I say it, or these pictures are going to end up everywhere.”

You tremble when you think about the damage those pictures could do to your reputation as a hero. You gently nod at his words.

“I want to hear you promise me.”

With tears sliding down your face, you say the damning words. “I promise, Yo.”

“Good, glad you agree! I think this is going to make a wonderful partnership.” He gives you a cheerful smile. “After all, we work so well together, don’t you think?”

~~~~

Tagging: @lady-bakuhoe, @thewheezingwyvern, @animewh0re, @dee-madwriter, @lildreamer93, @katsukisprincess, @yaoyorozuwrites, @redbeanteax, @kittygonyan, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love, @daedaep69, @heyybrittannia, @mimikarasu, @groovydreamertrash, @hisoknen, @mrs-kirishima, @iwvs-on-ao3

#shindou x reader #shindou yo x reader #yo shindou #bnha smut #shindou smut #yandere bnha #yo shindou x reader #yo shindo x reader #yo shindo #shindou yo #yandere shindou #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha smut #tw: yandere #shindou birthday #tw noncon #tw blackmail #tw manipulation

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belit0 · 3 years

Text

Madara making his s/o squ1rt + Daddy k1nk.

Request for the anon who asked this a while ago, here you go, more of my brother. I get it, he’s hot, but damn y'all crazy for him.

Writer added daddy k1nk cause she wanted to.

You are sitting in Madara's office, wrapping up some envelopes with documents to surprise him with the gesture. You're trying to be a good girl, you were misbehaving last week and your neck shows the marks of how he made his grip on you, it hurts to sit down and swallow is a difficult task. Helping him through his work while he's in a meeting is a way of proving you are willing to stop being a brat and start behaving.

It really is boring. Seal a paper, put it in its envelope, close it, make sure the Uchiha symbol is neat, repeat. A monotonous little routine that seems to never end. The pile of documents seems to grow as time goes by, and all you want to do is get out of that room.

You love Madara's office, it is one of his favorite places to fuck you, on his desk, on his work. Secretly, you suspect that it gives him special pleasure if he takes you over paperwork that is related to the Senju clan. His big velvet chair is the most comfortable piece of the whole house, padded and soft. The most suitable furniture for your battered thighs.

Wearing a T-shirt of him and only your underwear, you caress the material under your body, feeling the softness and comfort of sitting without experiencing pain. The Uchiha did not used to give you such severe punishments, and for that to be the case, it is because you had been out of place. As when you humiliated him in front of his brother a few days ago, describing a moment of vulnerability that had to be kept private.

The problem was that you came across a peculiar situation, something never before witnessed in your eyes, which awakened your curiosity and generated the need to ask Izuna about your man's past. It was a lazy morning, where both of you were just waking up after an intense night almost without sleep. You went into the bathroom as any person would, without noticing that he was there taking a piss. When you made yourself present, his inspiration was immediately gone, he got frustrated and threw you out in a huff. Without understanding what his problem was, you analyzed what happened, and discovered that you had never shared the bathroom simultaneously. Of course, to brush teeth and take a shower, but not to use the toilet. Did Madara have a trauma with peeing? Izuna would probably know.

After asking his younger brother, who seemed strangely happy when you told him about it and did not stop laughing throughout the story, the older Uchiha began to be harassed by the younger one every time he tried to go to the bathroom. Somehow Izuna was always behind him when he tried to pee, making him angry and forcing him to stop.

Because of the torture your man suffered thanks to your curious mind, the worst punishment ever given in the history of your relationship appeared without warning, making you endure more spankings in one night than you thought you were capable of. But his resentment continued for days, and your perverse attitude did not help the cause.

That's why you had made the decision to behave at least for as long as it took your buttocks to lose the bruises he caused. Being bratty with him is something you are passionate about, but now you only have the option to behave well and obey because technically you owe it to him.

There are still too many documents to be sealed, but you hear the front door opening and closing, and that makes your attention focus on that part of the house. You know your man has arrived, and in a apparently better mood, as you hear him whistling a tune as his footsteps echo down the hall. The first destination he visited was the bedroom, and you smile at the fact that he thought he would find you there, resting from his lesson.

"[Y/N]?"

He asks generally towards the house, hoping to hear your voice from somewhere to find out where you are. But to gloat and annoy him, even a little, you prefer to keep quiet and continue closing letters, completely ignoring his presence.

You feel him calling you several more times, climbing the stairs, going out to the patio, searching in several rooms. Why would he expect you to be in his office? You would have nothing to do there when he is not at home. It is the last place he checks, and when he opens the doors, there is a slight sign of concern in his features.

Of course, you can't help but smirk at this, it's the most you can play with him without provoking more punishment for your body. You watch him with narrowed eyes and without ceasing to work.

"What do you think you are doing? It's not funny."

"Was it a little, wasn't it?"

"Haven't you had enough? Do you really need more?"

"No! Of course not! Look, I'm trying to make up for it, I'm being a good girl for you daddy."

"I don't know, are you?"

Having said that, he enters his office and heads behind his desk, to where you are sitting. You know this means he wants you to sit on his lap, so you get up and let him settle into the seat before you climb onto him.

You try to kiss him, but he stops you.

"Keep working, you're not done."

Obeying, you seal a document, and when you want to take an envelope to put the paper and leave it closed, it is Madara who holds it in his hands in front of your mouth.

"Put the document in and close it with your mouth."

"B-But..."

"Do you want to have Daddy angry?"

"No..."

"Go ahead. No hands."

You insert the paper into the packet, and as the Uchiha indicated, you slide your tongue around the edge of the packaging, from one of his fingers to the other. When you reach the other end, his digit goes into your mouth without warning and smoothly. The task you were performing falls forgotten on the desk.

"Suck it well, show me what a good little girl you are.”

Pleasing your man, you stick your back to his chest, leaning your head over his shoulder while your tongue dances on his finger and fills it with saliva, giving him little sounds of approval. A second one enters your cavity, and you begin to move your head back and forth as if you were working on his cock, feeling his eyes on your lips.

"I think my baby has missed her milk bottle, hasn't she?”

Nodding on his lap, you feel like a hand is moving your underwear, and taking his wet fingers out of your mouth, he directs them towards your pussy, massaging the outside and wetting you completely.

“I'm still very sensitive..."

"Don't worry baby, I don't plan on messing with your tiny clit today. Daddy will teach you how to go to the bathroom.”

With those words, his two fingers are pushed inside you mercilessly, positioning themselves in the shape of a claw and rubbing that thin membrane on the top of your stomach that simply made you curl up and close your thighs over his arm.

"Open your legs or I'll have to spank you again, you bad girl.”

Moaning uncontrollably, with your head tilted back and sliding over his lap, your vagina makes watery noises every time Madara's knuckles hit your outer lips. Your feet are suddenly on his knees, allowing him better access, and with his arms he forces your thighs to stay apart, while his free hand runs to the side your soaked underwear.

"D-D-DAD-DY!"

Spasms run through your body and no coherent thought crosses your mind, you don't even care that your juices are dripping from your cunt and staining the upholstery of your man's chair, as he keeps his legs open along with yours. You're intoxicated in those digits working wonders on that magic point in your body, while the punch of his fist somehow also manages to act as a masturbation for your punished and over-stimulated clit.

You can no longer resist it.

"What's the matter girlie, do you feel like going to the restroom? Come on, do it on my hand, give all your fluids to dad."

With a final scream, a stream of liquid flows from your pussy, smoothly and strongly, hitting Madara's hand and landing on the floor. The Uchiha exerts pressure with his fingers inside you until the liquid stops pouring and your body stops shaking, leaving you exhausted over him and unable to gather strength to care about the mess left in his office.

"Oh no... what a bad girl... what a bad, bad girl... look what you did on the floor... I will have to teach you another lesson..."

"B-B-But-I..."

"But? You said, but? You have some serious behavioral problems. Come here, Daddy will fix you up."

#uchiha madara x reader #madara uchiha x reader #madara uchiha #uchiha madara #madara #madara scenario #madara imagine #naruto imagines #naruto shippuden #naruto x reader

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