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#I'll fill you in when I finish the next house!!
slimey-wally · 2 months
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Working on a certain neighborhood 🎶✨✨
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TW: Scopophobia and slight Selaphobia!!
(eyes and an ounce of flashing lights!)
Opening door and windows! (I recommend not actually going in there)
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Made the eyes so that they kinda just follow you 💕
Don't worry home, I'll make the others soon!
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I also made whatever the heck this is:
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writersdrug · 15 days
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Simon Riley x Dog Sitter! Reader pt. 2
<- Previous - Next ->
Warnings: light cursing, light nsfw, Simon being the tiniest bit of a creep
A/N: so originally this was just a fluffy thought I had a few weeks ago... it's slowly turning into a longer, multi-chapter series, and Simon is a bit darker than I had intended him to be... but the story is still going to stay relatively normal (there will be full NSFW further down the line, lol)!
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Sure enough, Simon had emailed you by Tuesday afternoon. You noticed how... unprofessional it was. Not that he had been rude or obscene, but it was obviously written by someone who never had to write many emails for his career.
here is riley's routine. she likes walks, usually 3 or 4 a day. she eats one scoop in the morning and one at night. she doesn't finish her food all at once, but she'll come back to it. if you're gonna give her more cookies, just two per day. fill water every morning. around the house, if you could just dust and clean up any dog hair, that would be great. let me know if meeting me tomorrow at 0900 for the key works. I ship out thursday. thanks.
Simon.
You chewed your thumb nail, reclining on your couch with a confused expression. Was he irritated with you for some reason? He didn't show it at the interview if he did have any hostile feelings... you reminded yourself that he was a rather gruff man, and maybe that just bled into his written words, too. You rolled your shoulders and started working out your reply.
Hello Simon! Tomorrow works perfect for me, I'll be there by 9 am!
Does Riley have any favorite places she likes to go? Any particular spots or trails she enjoys? Also, are there any rules you have for her, like being on the couch? Is she ok going to the dog park? Lastly, does she take any medications I should be aware of?
See you soon!
You sent the message, sighing and dropping your head back against the arm of the sofa. You were honestly thankful that you'd gotten the job, even if Simon was a rather stiff client. You finally quit your shitty job, and while you did still have babysitting your niece and nephew, you never charged for that - the only time you were "paid" for it was when you took them out somewhere fun, and your sister forced you to accept money for the admission fee.
So this gig fell into your lap at the perfect time. And the fact that you had beat every other person Simon had interviewed made your ego soar. It wouldn't be a bad idea to make a career out of this, you thought.
Your phone dinged - you held it above your face, and saw that Simon had already responded. You sat upright and opened the email.
she only takes aspirin when her leg flares up. no more than twice a day. no favorite trails, we just go around the block a few times. she can sit on the couch, my bed too, but she'll need help getting up. no human food is the only other rule. never took her to a dog park, but if you really want to, that's fine. she's good with other dogs.
Simon.
You frowned. Walking the same block every day, multiple times each day, sounded awful. It wasn't even close to animal neglect, but you couldn't imagine walking the same route every single time. If it didn't drive Riley insane, it certainly would for you.
You read back over the email, your eyes lingering on "if her legs flare up." Simon had never discussed Riley having arthritis with you - and you sincerely hoped that was the reason she had leg pain, and nothing else. You made a mental note to ask him about it tomorrow as you began to write your reply.
Understood. Thanks again!
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"Here's the basement." Simon said, leading you down the stairs and into a dullish room. It had a cheaply-manufactured desk, what appeared to be a dining chair (not matching the dining set upstairs), a stuffed bookshelf, and some cardboard boxes filled with paper. A fan stood in the far corner, and next to it was the washing room. Much like what he had shown you of the rest of the house, it was bland and drab.
You looked around, letting out a polite noise of approval. Truth be told, Simon's life seemed awfully boring to you. Your mother had always told you that military men were always overly practical, in more than just home decor. They never cared much for the environment around them, as long as there was no mold, or anything similar. But you had never expected it to be so brutally true.
You knew he had a life outside of his home - from the way he described it, he was usually deployed more often than he was in his own home country. But you wondered - what did he do for fun, besides watch the telly? Did he have friends, and were they all like him? Any hobbies?
"If for whatever reason y' need to clean up a stain, you can find solution in there." He said, pointing to the washer room. "Other than that, nothin' much to see down 'ere."
You followed him as he trudged back up the stairs. Riley was sat upright on the floor, watching you and Simon move about the house with an observant expression.
"The only other things I'll ask you to do is hoover n' dust when it looks like it needs it." He said, leaning against the kitchen counter. "There really isn't much else t' do; of course, if you do see anything that needs fixin' you can always text me." He rolled his head from side to side, wincing as he worked out a crick in his neck. "Might not answer immediately, but I'll see it."
You nodded, standing in the walkway of the kitchen. Even with him leaning against the counter, muscles hidden under his sweatshirt, he was huge. For a brief moment, you imagined what he looked like on the field, dressed in his uniform and holding a gun - but you quickly shooed the thought from your mind before it had the chance to latch on and fester. "Gotcha. And just so I know, do you let Riley sleep with you?"
Simon paused in confusion before he responded. "Come again?"
"Like- you know, if I crash on the couch, is she allowed up with me?" You said, shifting your weight. You couldn't quite tell if Simon was irked by your question, or if he was genuinely confused.
He paused again. "Uh, yea, that's fine. If y' don't mind waking up covered in 'er slobber."
You laughed. "Nah, I'm used to it. A little drool never bothered me. Although, if I do need to wash up, am I alright to use the shower? Or would you rather I use my own back at my flat?"
Suddenly, it clicked in Simon's head. You were planning on sleeping at his house.
He had assumed you would just stop by for walks and meals - he didn't expect you to actually live here while he was gone, and he wasn't sure how it made him feel. He'd never had anyone else spend the night. Hell, no one ever visited, besides the rare occasions of the rest of the 141 stopping by. Even then, they never stayed for longer than a conversation or two.
But, once he took a second to think about it, he realized it might be better if you did stay - at least, while he was on missions. Riley would be bored out of her mind if she was alone that long, especially after spending the past several weeks with Simon constantly there. It would be good for someone to be there when he wasn't, and you seemed like you would be the best person for that, of course.
"Sure, 's fine." He said, rubbing the back of his head. "Just don't touch my shit in there."
"Don't worry about that..." You said quietly, "catch me dead and cold before I touch a 3-in-1 anything."
He chuckled and rolled his eyes. It was refreshing that you could handle his gruffness - most people treated him like a landmine, never wanting to say the wrong thing and set him off. You seemed to have taken life by the horns, like you weren't afraid to bite back at someone. He wondered if that was all for show, or if you really would snap back if he was to test you...
He pushed himself off the counter and reached into the drawer behind him, pulling out a spare key. He walked over to you and held it out. You were just about to take it, when he suddenly yanked it back.
You faltered. "Sorry...?"
"You lose this key..." Simon began lowly, "n' I'll frame you for murder. Understood?"
You gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He didn't really mean that... did he? You waited for him to laugh and say he was just joking... but he never did. His eyes bored into yours so intensely, making you shiver, as he waited for you to answer.
"Y-yes, sir. Understood." You said, voice wavering a bit.
He grunted in satisfaction, then handed you the key. You let out the breath you had been holding, then cautiously took the key, before immediately attaching it to your lanyard. You didn't want to take any chances at losing it - not after Simon's threat. You took a deep breath and smiled at him, trying to dust the exchange off of your shoulders.
"You can come 'round tomorrow after o' nine hundred, I'll be out by then." He said, turning sideways to moce past you and heading towards the door. You followed behind and rubbed Riley's head when you passed her; she let out a contented sound.
"Feel free t' use the kitchen if you'll be stayin' overnight." He opened the door for you and leaned against it.
"Will do, thank you!" You chirped, hovering on the landing outside of his house, right were you were two days ago. "Thank you for showing me around - good luck on your- mission- deployment, thingamajig!"
He huffed. "Promise I will, luv."
Your spine tingled in response to his comment. Get it together, don't get your knickers in a twist over a client. You thought. You straightened your posture and cleared your throat.
"Well, see you around!" You said with a smile, then hopped down the steps to your car.
Simon waved, taking a moment to watch you pull out of his driveway. He shut the door and leaned back against it, exhaling slowly through his nostrils.
He was an observant man - he had to be, with his occupation. Your reaction to being called "luv" didn't fly over his head. And it's not like Simon didn't know the effect he had on women... he knew how he looked, how he presented himself, and he saw the reactions it got him.
But with you, something felt different. He saw your reaction, and a part of him wanted to chase after it. To see what you would do if he continued to apply pressure to your weak spots. Would you blush? Would you call him out? Would you drop the gig altogether?
He thought about how easily the word "sir" had rolled off of your tongue. He thought about how you would look, all tuckered out on his couch, donned in whatever pajamas you decided to wear, your face peaceful and expression soft as you slept - he imagined you in his shower, the room filled with warm steam and the scent of your shampoo, water hitting your skin as you-
Riley barked, making Simon jolt where he stood. She stared at him, ears turned to the side as she whined. She could always tell when he began to dissociate, and knew just as much as he did that it wasn't a good sign.
Simon sighed, running a hand down his face. "Get it together, fuckin' creep." He muttered to himself. "I need a bloody hobby, f' Christ's sake..."
He blamed it on the upcoming mission. He would typically stress about it beforehand, and if there was anything else that could occupy his mind, he would fixate on it. Right now, unfortunately, you were the victim. But he buried it deep down into his subconscious - it wasn't fair to you.
He pushed himself off of the door and headed towards the washroom, adjusting his crotch as he went. He figured he should at least tidy it up a bit, since you would be using it. The only other people who had been in there were Johnny and Captain Price, and of course, they never cared if there were trimmers on the counter, or if the mirror had splotches from toothpaste residue.
Hopefully, he'd forget all about you - at least, while he was on the mission.
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Taglist: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @jisungswiftie @sweet-tooth4you @kennyis-aloser @hyyyxr @lahniu @dory-98 @naradae
Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!
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shallyouobeyme · 6 months
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From the Outside
Part 1 (you're here) | Part 2 (Coming soon)
Platonic!Yandere Batfam x Neglected Batsib!reader (GN)
Summary: You were living your life as a stranger in the house you were supposed to call home, an outsider in a group of people who were supposed to be your family. So you do your best to keep yourself distracted from your situation and go on with your life. But just how long will you be able to keep on with that?
! Minors Do Not Interact !
Requested by @sol565
TW: Not much in this one, neglect (obviously), loss of relatives, car crash (mentioned), cancer (mentioned), swearing, coming up to Yandereness in the next chapters. I'll try to proofread and edit once I finish the whole thing.
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Last night you dreamed of your family again. It was a pleasant dream, one that had you wishing to keep on dreaming even after you were woken up by your alarm. All of you were sitting at the dinner table, enjoying Alfred’s excellent cooking. The room was filled with happiness and joy, the kind of atmosphere that has you reminiscing about that day for ages. In your dream you felt so weightless, Damian was sitting opposite you as he listened to you talk about your day, an anecdote of you leading to laughter filling the room. Your mother ruffled your hair from where she was sitting beside you and as you smiled up to her you felt filled with love. Around the table, the Waynes were actively interested in the conversation and Bruce was asking you a question leading to a cheeky comment from your left side. You knew what was said, but you couldn’t understand the voice. Confused you looked to where your father should be sitting but only a distorted shadow figure looked back at you. 
It opened whatever would be most akin to a mouth and a blaring sound echoed out of it. Your eyes flew open as you slapped your bedside table to grab your phone. 7 A.M, time to get up. This dream had been haunting you for a few weeks now, the idyllic family dinner turning into an unpleasant reminder of your situation. At first, you had woken up in a cold sweat and slightly fearful from the end, but by now you had grown very accustomed to it. Just another part of your day to get through. 
You accepted to pay the mental price for the opportunity to see your mother again, if only during the nights. 
Another look at your phone to check the notifications and you got up and got dressed. Given the time you knew that you still had enough time to join your adopted siblings for breakfast, but even Alfred's amazing pancakes and french toast could to move you into the kitchen. Deciding to just nap something from your friends during lunch break at school, you grabbed your bag and jacket before quickly making your way through the manor. Like almost every morning you silently prayed that you wouldn’t come across anyone on your way to the front door. Eighty per cent of the time you were lucky, fifteen per cent you were just ignored and the other five per cent you found yourself stuck in painfully awkward small talk with the people who lived on the same floor as you. People who were supposed to be your closest friends and confidants. People who weren’t that. People who were more akin to strangers.
Today you were in luck as you managed to slip out of the giant house you hated to call home without having to talk to anyone. Getting onto your scooter, you made your way to the school, enjoying the air in your face through the helmet and the feeling of freedom that only came to you on rare occasions. 
The school was still fairly empty when you arrived - as was expected - so you had the honour of walking through the empty halls like you owned the place. A sentiment that some of your schoolmates even believed. You wanted to tell them that you had no need for your Guardians money, no interest in his family’s name or his family’s reputation. Bitter thoughts filled your mind, leaving a taste of anger, of disappointment, of anguish on your tongue. They weren’t helped by what you saw when you stopped in front of the trophy showcase. There were pictures of some of the best former student-athletes that had attended the school, and the most recognizable was a picture that was proudly displayed right on eyesight. It was at a sporting event that had happened some twenty to thirty years earlier, one that was still held bi-annually. The winners of different disciplines were smiling proudly into the camera, arms around each other. 
Taking the spotlight was a man that every proud Gothamite would recognize as a young Bruce Wayne on one side, a different boy who people tended to overlook based on his less noticeable features and the lack of fame he had, and in the middle of both of them stood Bruce’s former best friend. Your mother. Your late mother. 
She had been a beautiful, stunning, talented woman. Everyone who had ever known her told you that. You tried to take some solace in the fact that they told you how alike the two of you were, both in looks and in personality. It did nothing to quell the underlying pain though, the pain still boiling inside you, pain that over the years had turned into anger. You weren’t angry with your mother, of course, you knew that she had not chosen to fall sick, that she had not chosen to succumb to cancer. She had loved you with all her heart and only ever wanted you to be happy. This is why, when your grandparents died in a shooting shortly after her diagnosis, she put it in her will that after her passing you were to be taken care of by her lifelong friend Bruce Wayne. After all, he already had kids and he was rich, just like she and her parents had been - money and estates that now waited on you to turn 18 to take charge of - and he’d be surely able to give you the life and the love she always wanted you to have. 
Sadly, your mother had not known Bruce quite as well as she had believed she did. She had no idea that he spent his nights as the infamous Batman, or that the kids he adopted had been turned into fighting machines - sometimes even killers. She had no idea that he was not the amazing, loving and attentive father figure she had wanted you to have. Not even close. 
You suppose he had tried at one point. When you were a young child, grieving the loss of your entire family and everything that you had known, he had taken you in like one of his own and assured you that from then on he’d protect you. Back then you had believed him. After all, your mother had told you so many great things about him, why should she lie. And with elder brothers and sisters, a Butler who made sure you had your favourite foods whenever you felt sad and a man who tried his best to be the father you never had. They did lots of work to spend time with you and to pay attention to you which would ensure you wouldn’t notice their weird habits and absences. But of course that couldn’t work forever. After a few months, you found out about their best (and somehow at the same time worst) kept secret and as you walked through the Batcave by Bruce’s side everything changed. He didn’t directly offer to train you, but he did insinuate that it was an option, though you declined. You couldn’t see yourself hurting others. You wanted to help like your mom had helped, by volunteering, bettering the world peacefully. Bruce had assured you that that was a completely acceptable decision and that it wouldn’t change anything. But he had lied. Perhaps knowingly, perhaps not. Maybe some of both. 
Once you were aware of their second life, they didn’t put in the effort to pay enough attention to you to make you unaware of their secret. At first, they still spent time with you, but over time it seemed like you were blending into obscurity like a special bottle of champagne that was planned to be open on a special occasion only. Just that the bottle was usually remembered after the occasion had passed in annoyance. You weren’t. And as you phased out of their minds and into oblivion, you made peace with your place in the family. An outsider, a stranger inside their house, just waiting until the time had come for you to finally live your own life. 
Of course, you knew you could have it worse. You had enough money to fulfil every wish you had as long as it was material, always had something to wear, something to eat, and somewhere to sleep. The only thing you didn’t have was love. But especially in Gotham you knew that you got away rather luckily with that, so while you were deeply angry towards the people who had promised to treat you like family, to love you, you also tried to just get on with your life. 
It would have been easier if it wasn’t just so hard to look at your so-called siblings as if you didn’t resent them for the way they treated you, compared to one another. Somehow showing any interest in you or attempting to spend any time with you was a chore, but somehow Jason and Cass could have a little book club, Jason and Dick could go out for lunch at a cat-cafe, Steph, Cass and Tim could have Spa-days and all of them could have an occasional movie night together. It wasn’t explicitly stated that you weren’t welcome, but you had seen how they acted when you were with them compared to how they acted when you were hiding behind the door listening in. They seemed so much happier without you. As if your mere presence ruined the mood. So you started rejecting their invitations to join and it only took one of two attempts of them to stop asking completely. 
You might have been able to cope better with the obvious dismissal of your existence if it had been because you hadn’t been part of the family when they had forged their close bond, but somehow, even when Damian joined, acting like a complete asshole to everyone around him, they managed to include him and when he warmed up to them he joined their close group. 
So your newness surely could not have been that big of an issue right? Even Damian, completely new to the family and surely aggressive towards all of his pseudo siblings, seemed to know you were less than the others since he didn’t even bother to insult you, instead opting to ignore you. Completely. A glance spared, looking you up and down, and he had decided you were not worth it and his opinion seemingly still hadn’t changed. Sure by now you had talked with him a few times, but you could say the same about the fucking mayor of Gotham so you were sure that did not really count. 
Sometimes, you lay in your bed at night, wide awake, wondering just why you were worth so much less in their eyes. What you had done wrong. Two answers usually presented themselves before you. Either it was because you weren’t a vigilante, something that you might even have been willing to accept, or it was… you. Just you. And for some reason, that was the answer that seemed more plausible to you. Maybe you were just unpleasant to be around, not fitting enough for their family. Not interesting enough, not Wayne enough. 
And so you were cursed to live your life like a ghost in what is supposed to be your home. Going in and out every day, just waiting for the day to come when you could move into the penthouse your grandparents had bought you before they died, which would become your legal property in just a few years. You’d start anew. Maybe one day, after a long time and probably a lot of therapy, you’ll be able to start your own family. One that you’d promise not to fuck up like Bruce had. Until then though, you’d go on like always, spend as little time in that Manor as possible and try to distract yourself from your reality. 
You really did spend very little time at the manor. For one, no one in that house cared when you left or when you came back except maybe Alfred, but even he either knew that you could properly use the freedom or he was too busy to care. Probably a mix of both. And along with that, you had started a very active life outside of your family. You had a lot of friends, though you were not ready to call any of them close friends, always knowing about how many of them were after the publicity of your actual and current family name and the money and fame connected to it. But they were nice enough and they distracted you so you didn’t mind. Especially because you used said popularity to help the people in town. You managed to get a lot of your friends to volunteer alongside you in different homeless shelters, though a lot of them tended to post dozens of pictures which made you feel a bit icky about them trying to profit from helping others, but you knew you couldn’t complain because it did help the shelters. The shelters told you so themselves. 
Most of your ‘pocket money’ was donated and the rest of the time was spent doing different activities, be it arts, sports, parties or just wasting the day away. You did your best to cram as much into your day-to-day life as you could to keep you from thinking too much. To stop you from thinking too much about how messed up you were now, how you couldn’t even confide in any of your friends, how you didn’t even really manage to call them your friends, because you couldn’t allow yourself to let anyone close to you anymore, because you knew you weren’t worth it, because you knew you’d be disappointed and hurt again. 
These dark thoughts were kept inside, slowly eating at you like termites, while on the outside you kept on being the happy-go-lucky Gotham personality that people loved to follow. Though you didn’t post a lot on your own social media, your friends and people around you did, which the public loved for some reason. And so you kept up the act, because what else could you do? Let people know you’re hurting? So they could ridicule you for your rich people's problems? Or keep out of the public eye? And have to face the lonely darkness that was your life? No, you’d rather keep on pretending like you had been for years now. Even if it meant being a piece of entertainment for other people who could turn on you at any second. 
The day at school was mostly uneventful, only a short moment of passing by Damian ruined your mood as your classmates did their usual shtick of asking if that wasn’t your brother and you trying to shrug them off, after all, how do you explain that your brother treated you like air not worth breathing? So you changed the topic by announcing that you’d go help out at a local shelter after school and asked if anyone wanted to join. Some excused themselves but a few agreed, which led to a group of five of you coming into the shelter a few hours later after some mandatory selfies so keep your friends placated. There was a bit more traffic inside than usual - a few people definitely not in need of help - which was probably because one of your friends posted your plans on their socials. That was something that you had to begrudgingly accept. You couldn’t afford their anger, so you made a compromise with them that they could post stuff like that, but that they couldn’t post the exact location (which in your opinion was just common sense, but it seemed not a lot of people shared that).
Ignoring the people only there to see you or be near a Wayne, you focused on helping those who needed your help, though aware of the effect you could have on the shelter business, you helped out in the kitchen where people couldn’t see you. You didn’t mind, you liked cooking and you and the fellow kitchen staff had a sort of harmonized rhythm. It even helped you get lost in thoughts that didn’t make you wanna cry, so when you got interrupted in your flow, you almost jumped in shock. One of the organizers had tapped on your shoulder. 
“Y/N, there’s a man outside that wants to talk to you,” Marcus told you and nodded towards the door to the front.
“They still haven’t left? I’m really sorry Marc, if you think it’s better if I leave, then I will,” you sighed, annoyed by the turn of events. 
“No, it’s not a fan. At least I think, he’s- well, he claims to have something really important to talk to you about. He gave me this to show to you, said it’ll show you he’s serious,” Marcus shrugged and held a picture out to you. It was an old Polaroid of a young couple smiling into the camera. Your breath hitched. 
“Is he the guy in the picture?” you asked with a newly found seriousness.
“Yes, at least he looks like it. Is the woman-”
“Yeah, could we use the office? Only if you’re okay with it, of course.”
“Sure, no problem, go ahead, I’ll bring him to you in a minute.”
“Thank you,” you earnestly smiled at Marcus as you made your way to the door that led to the office. You were used to being nervous, but not quite as nervous as you were then. This could change a lot of things, everything if it was what you imagined it to be. You looked at the picture in your hand again before sitting down behind the desk and putting it down on the desk. There were steps behind the door coming closer, so you took a deep breath as you wiped your hands on your pant legs. The door opened and in came a man who looked just like the guy from the Polaroid. He seemed familiar, not just from that snapshot of the past, but something in his face rang a bell in your memories. You mustered him, trying to keep a stern exterior as you didn’t know if this was going to be what you thought it would be. 
Marcus gestured the man to sit down on the other side of the desk, before giving you an encouraging nod and closing the door as he left. 
“Hello,” you greeted the man, hands intertwined before you on the desk.
“Hello,” he responded alike and you could feel his curiosity burning through you. Had you misinterpreted this? Was this just another weird fan?
“This picture,” you looked at it again before sliding it towards him, “how do you know my mom?”
A/N: So, what do y'all think? Let me know in the comments or in my inbox ❤️ Also, I'd appreciate feedback on the title as well, not sure if I should change it or keep it.
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I just had the Idea, like Imagine, the S/o from Muzan, Koku, Douma and Akaza (seperate) finds a spider and is REALLY Scared of it. How would they react?
The mental image of the S/O shrieking in terror and one of these men just absolutely pegging it all the way from one side of the house to the other just to find out its a spider that scared the S/O amuses me greatly (≧▽≦)
Also I have arachnophobia and honestly spiders get my skin crawling in terror... they just give me the ick
Honestly thanks for sliding this into my askbox! It was fun to imagine and write what these men would think and do during such a scenario!
Muzan Kibutsuji, Kokushibo, Douma/Doma + Akaza reacting to their S/O being scared of a spider - Headcanons:
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Muzan Kibutsuji:
He was just doing an experiment, just messing around with chemicals to get a reaction
When he hear's you scream
Fucking speed demon o'hoy as he speeds across the house to find you, nails hardening and lengthen and tentacles wanting to burst out from his skin to get rid of what's harmed you
And when he reaches where you are, hands cracking the foundations of the door with a snarl on his lips until his eyes land on you
Muzan stands there - his fear quells and is instead replaced with a thankful neutrality - breathing slowly reverting back to normal as he takes in your shaken form standing on one of the tables in the home's library
With a quirk of his brow his gaze drifts to where your shaking finger points and lands on the calm + poised form of a spider
Muzan stares at it
The spider stares back
Before it's promptly squished under a book
Your carried out of the room like a bride
"For scaring me you get to sit in my lab" Muzan says, going back to mixing chemicals "And if your good, it'll be me that makes you scream in ecstasy later"
Muzan knows spider's scare you so usually just kills them before you see one - although the odd few go get to live
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Kokushibo:
Kokushibo was meditating - his usual activity after a long day
It's silent, the house in a state of stillness and the world outside holding it's breathe as Kokushibo breathes in...then out..
And its shattered by your scream of fear
His body moves quicker than his mind
Hand on his katana as he rushes to where you are and as see's you cowering in the hallway, eyes flicking to and fro to see where your fear is placed to see the 8-legged fiend
"It's a spider...." He states plainly, eyes blinking as his stance relaxes "......again?"
"Can you please make it go away!" You whisper-shout, eyes peaking through your fingers at him "It's really scary"
Kokushibo simply sighs
Moving silently to catch the spider with a drinking cup and a piece of parchment from the ceiling and releasing it outside
He picks you up and dusts you off with a small smile
"Next time just shout my name, I'll handle the spiders"
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Douma/Doma:
Douma/Doma had just finished a sermon
Narrowly escaping his followers clutches from having to give more false kindness and advice that he probably didn't mean
Until he hears you scream
Fear flushes his insides cold and worry makes his chest ache as he runs to your shared quarters
First, he blinks - taking in the scene of your shaking form and the rather harmless spider on the wall
Then his brain starts working at a mile a minute before everything clicks into place
You (S/O) + Spider + Scream from you = Fear = New form of entertainment
Douma/Doma smirks - something filled with malice and a polite mock sympathy - before making his way across the room to soothe you
Before promptly catching the spider and chasing you with it...
Yes, this is funny for him and no, he won't stop until he's tired
After having his fun - for what felt like a millennia - Douma/Doma releases the spider outside
And with a chuckle, kisses your forehead and leaves you
Douma/Doma just doesn't understand why you're scared of spiders until you sit down with him before bed and tell him off for earlier
After that he orders his followers to either kill spiders on sight or move them into the garden
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Akaza:
He was training in the garden when he heard you scream out in terror
Making record time to get to you by simply leaping from the garden through the bedroom's open window
Eyes moving wildly trying to find the source of your terror - his heart aching when seeing your eyes shimmering with tears and a scared wobble to your lip
Until landing on the black mass on the floor scuttling about... "a....a spider?" He says inquisitively, his head tilting in confusion
When he realizes that it was the spider that made you scream, Akaza kinda just stares at it for a little while before joining you on the bed to get away from it and soothe you
Then 5 minutes roll into 10 minutes and your both sat there, chilling on the bed in a hug and waiting for the spider to leave
"It's gone now...."
Accidentally stands on the spider
Yes, he screams
No, the spider doesn't make it
But you do get to laugh
Akaza now doesn't go near spiders....
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verysium · 5 months
Note
BLUE LOCK REVERSE ICKS 😳
😭 i read this as blue lock icks and was about to drag them all through the dirt with a brutally honest character review. but anyways, reverse icks is still a good idea, so here you go anon:
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rin has abandonment issues. now before u come for me, let me explain. ever since sae left him, he's been hesitant to let anyone back into his heart, and that's why you mean so much to him. his hand automatically reaches for yours in the crowd so you don't get separated. when he has nightmares and dreams of you leaving, he wakes up, patting frantically on your side of the bed until he finds your body and relaxes. hugs you as if he'll never let go and buries his face into the crook of your neck and just whispers "thank fucking god." and you can see his chin wobbling as he struggles so hard not to cry, but deep down you know he's a very sensitive soul and you're quite literally his whole world.
sae's entire character is a reverse ick. have you not seen that man? he is beautiful. but i'll give u a little scenario: sae attends a charity gala, and you're invited as his plus one. you're busy getting ready in the bathroom, and he just leans against the doorframe, breath hitching when he sees you all dolled up in your fancy dress. coughs to hide his blush when you turn around and ask him for help. creeps behind you silently, his hot breath grazing your nape as his deft fingers reach for your zipper. his hands are callused and gentle when they clasp the back of your necklace (the one he bought for you), and the cold metal contrasts with the warmth of his hands on your shoulders. his heart is beating so fast that his fingers tremble and struggle with his tie, so you fix it for him but when your gaze travels back up his face, you catch him staring down at you, his eyes filled with an intense emotion. your gesture of kindness reminds him of his mother and how he hasn't gone back home in ages and how blessed he is by the gods to have you in his life.
kaiser does the hair tuck thing where he kisses a strand of your hair and smooths it behind your ear. he tries so hard to be a suave and charming gentleman, but honestly he's just an awkward loser. screams like a girl when you watch horror movies together and hugs you so tightly you think your lungs might burst. but then he gradually quiets down and falls asleep in your arms, and you think maybe he's not so bad. he canonically is not a morning person, so when he wakes up, he has the homeless cut 2.0 with the wild bed head and groggy facial expression. also has a weird habit of walking around the house naked. in any other situation, you would've yelled at him to put some clothes on, but his physique was looking extra good today, and you sort of got distracted. he definitely noticed and not-so-subtly flexed his biceps. always tries to make you laugh even though his pick-up lines are terrible and he can't tell a good joke to save his life.
nagi sometimes wakes up before you and pulls your body closer to him. on most occasions though, it's you who wakes up before him and he drags you back to bed. he hates it when you work late and hovers above you like a phantom, waiting for you to finally finish and go cuddle with him. if it gets to the point where you fall asleep while working, he will tuck you into bed and kiss you goodnight. the next morning, you find all your work finished, albeit in poor handwriting. in all honesty, nagi is a genius, and he tries hard for you and only you. if any other person asked them to finish their work, he would've flat-out rejected them.
isagi is good with children but often at his own expense. unsuccessfully tries to make a baby laugh but ends up getting distracted and slamming face first into a telephone pole. now that made the baby start giggling, and he just smiled through tears with a red bump on his forehead, insisting that he was alright and didn't just knock his two front teeth loose. whenever he babysits your siblings/cousins, he ends up doing all the grueling work like changing diapers, taking out the trash, cleaning up after the gremlins. and yet the children will still favor you and not him. tries to act like he's not heartbroken but boy did that sting a little too much.
barou buys you flowers. has a big stupid blush on his big stupid face and refuses to admit that his heart skips a beat every time you look at him. does that thing where he looks the opposite way to pretend like he's not interested before shoving a bouquet into your hands. he's also very protective. holds your hand when you cross the sidewalk so you don't get run over. holds the door open for you every time. tried to make those origami hearts for you, but his fingers are thick and stubborn, and he stayed up all night in a fit of rage because he's not used to delicate work like this. you ended up getting a lopsided piece of crumpled paper that barou insisted was a heart, and you agreed because why would you hurt his feelings?
chigiri knows how to braid your hair. makes you sit in front of the mirror while his slender fingers carefully brush the soft strands. he can get complex too. dutch braids. french braids. fishtail braids. also does that cheesy couple tradition where he braids a piece of his own hair with yours as a symbol of love. most people don't know this, but he's actually a crackhead. sometimes when you're walking down the street, he'll do impersonations of the various people he sees. the old lady at the laundromat. the two aunties at the flower shop. the fisherman near the boardwalk. he even imitated your dad once, and you nearly lost it. he's too funny guys, but you need a sophisticated sense of humor to understand him.
and that's about it. sorry this was so short anon, but my brain is dessiccated this week.
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letstrip13 · 2 months
Text
📖 - bedtime story
reader x matt
summary: matt finds you reading a smut scene in a book and it turns him on. he wants to make you feel the things you were reading.
warnings: smut, oral f!receiving, unprotected sex, a tiny bit of praise, a bit of fluff at the end
word count: 1,625
author's note: this my first time writing smut so i'm sorry if it's bad, bare with me i'll get better eventually. also tysm for over 100 likes on my last post that's insane
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you’ve been best friends with the triplets since they moved to la, right next door to you. over the year and a half you’d known them, you’ve grown really close. chris and nick are like brothers to you but something is different with matt. you two share a really close bond, however, there’s always been some underlying attraction that neither of you have ever acted on, afraid of ruining the friendship.
tonight, you’re having a sleepover at the triplet’s house. the four of you ate dinner, played mario kart, and watched a few movies before going your separate ways to bed. you decided to sleep with matt tonight so you follow him to his room. you gather your pajamas, toothbrush, and makeup wipes from your overnight bag before going into his bathroom. you get changed and ready for bed before coming back into matt’s room.
you lay next to each other, scrolling on your phones before matt gets up. “i’m gonna take a shower. don’t fall asleep without me,” he says as he grabs a clean pair of boxers and pajama pants from his dresser. he walks out of the room and about a minute later, you can hear the sound of the shower turning on from his bathroom.
you put your phone down on his nightstand before reaching into your overnight bag and taking out the book you’ve been reading. it’s a very slowburn romance book. it’s taken forever for the two main characters to even just kiss, but you know that it’s about to get really good.
you were right about this part of the book getting good, the sexual tension was growing impossibly higher between the two main characters as you got lost in the story. you're so caught up in it that you don't even notice matt come back into his room, wearing pajama pants and no shirt. "what are you reading?" he asks softly as he sits down on his bed next to you. his question goes unanswered as you get lost in the smut unfolding on the page before your eyes.
matt decides to just let you read since it's clearly entertaining you and he goes on his phone. after just a few minutes of that, he gets curious about what you're reading so he peeks over your shoulder. his eyes widen and his jaw almost drops in surprise when he reads the words on the page. he wasn't expecting you to be reading something like that, especially with such a straight face.
despite his surprise, he's a little turned on by it. he wants nothing more than to finally make a move on you. you feel him place his hand on your thigh, gently rubbing up and down as you continue to read your book.
once you finish the part you're on, you look down at matt's hand then you look into his eyes. he meets your gaze with a slight smirk on his lips. he takes the book out of your hands, closing it before placing it on his nightstand. "why are you reading stuff like that when i could just do it to you instead?" he asks in a low voice.
your heart races and your stomach fills with butterflies at the thought of matt doing that stuff you just read, but it still surprised you. "you'd really do that?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. he responds with a smirk that does something to your insides. "that's what friends are for."
his hands move to your waist as he presses his lips to yours. you kiss him back and it starts out soft and slow before it starts to quickly escalate and you're climbing onto his lap to straddle him. his hands move down to your hips as the kiss between you two turns into a heated makeout. you roll your hips against his and he lets out a muffled groan against your lips.
he pushes you down on the bed, hovering over you while you're on your back as he attacks your neck with kisses. you let out a little whine, encouraging him to keep going. he sucks lightly on the skin around your collarbones as he slides his hands up your shirt. "can i take this off?" you quickly nod and he lifts the shirt over your head, groaning when he sees that you weren't wearing a bra under it. little whines and whimpers fall from your lips as his tongue teases your nipples, making you slowly grow wetter.
you impatiently start tugging your pajama pants down. "someone's eager," matt chuckles. "please, matt, just fuck me already." he almost gives in but he slowly shakes his head with a smirk. "that's not what happened in the book, baby. i wanna take my time with you."
you watch as matt kisses a trail from your chest down to the waistband of your pants. he slowly pulls them off and presses a kiss to your clothed clit while he looks into your eyes. he slowly takes your panties off, groaning at the sight. "so wet for me," he mumbles. you let out a soft moan as he pushes a finger into you. he leans down and starts teasing your clit, flicking it with his tongue as he slowly pumps his finger in and out of you.
your fingers find their way to his hair as he adds another finger inside you and alternates between sucking on your clit and flicking his tongue against it. you moan louder as he stretches you out with his fingers and you lightly tug on his hair, earning a small groan from him. he curls his fingers to hit your g-spot and you feel that familiar knot starting to grow in your stomach. your back arches off the bed and your moans get louder. "fuck, matt- i'm gonna cum-"
matt pulls his fingers out of you as he looks up at you from between your legs while your fingers stay tangled in his hair. "not yet." you let out a whine from lack of contact. "what happens next?" "what..?" you ask, still being in a bit of a haze from matt having just denied you an orgasm. "in your book," he clarifies, "what happens next?" "he fucks her." matt immediately gets up from the position he was in and stands at the foot of the bed, pulling his pants and boxers off in one go.
"i can't wait to be inside you." he gets on the bed between your spread legs and slowly strokes his cock a few times while precum leaks from the tip. you sit up, pressing your lips to his in a heated, needy kiss. his hands go to your waist and gently lowers you until your head hits his pillow, not breaking the kiss. he pulls away and looks down as he hovers over you. "ready?" you nod. "yes, please just fuck me, matt."
he presses a quick kiss to your lips before lining his tip up with your entrance. he pushes into you as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, both of you moaning at the feeling. he gives you a moment to adjust to his size, rocking his hips against yours. you signal to him that he can move with a little nod.
matt doesn't waste any time, tightly holding your hips and roughly thrusting into you. "fuck- you feel so good around me," he groans out. the only response that leaves your mouth is a loud moan as his tip repeatedly hits your g-spot with each thrust. he leans down and buries his face in your neck, mumbling between kisses, "such a good girl.. taking my cock so well." you leave scratches up his back, as you moan in response.
he pulls away from your neck and he moves one of your hands from your hip, starting to rub your clit. you start to feel that familiar knot in your stomach building up again and you manage to gasp out between moans, "fuck- so good-"
he feels your walls clenching around his cock and he rubs your clit faster, knowing that you're close. "cum for me, sweetheart." this, mixed with matt's rough thrusts and him touching your clit, puts you over the edge. you scratch at his back, definitely leaving some marks as you arch your back and cry out his name. he moves his hands to your thighs, holding down your shaking legs as his thrusts get sloppy. he pulls out with a loud groan, "fuck-" he strokes his cock a few times, painting your tits and stomach with his cum.
he smirks at the sight of you below him while you sit up a little, catching your breath from the intense orgasm matt just gave you. he gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before getting up and putting his boxers on. he grabs a washcloth and gets it wet in the bathroom sink before using it to clean up the mess he made on you. he throws it in the hamper with the rest of his dirty laundry and gets back in bed to lay with you.
you rest your head on his chest and cuddle up to him as he wraps his arms around you. "was that good?" "yes, matt, that was fucking amazing," you say with a little laugh. he turns off the lamp on his nightstand that had been on this whole time before pressing a kiss to your forehead. "maybe i should read more of your books some time." you close your eyes and sleepily mumble, "only if you promise that it'll turn out like this again." "i promise." he closes his eyes and you two fall asleep in each other's arms.
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allfearstofallto · 3 months
Text
Scaramouche with Sensitive Nipples - Drabble
Scaramouche x Fem! Reader
TW: Smut, nipple play, unprotected sex, literally just porn with no plot
AN: My bad!! I got horny!!
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The first time you touched him there, you remembered how pretty his face got.
Scaramouche always had rather rosy cheeks, and that didn't change while he was pounding your insides. With your thick, plush thighs up on his shoulders, he fucked his cock into, making sure to try and hit the deepest part of you every time.
“You love it, don't you,” he'd moan in your face. His words sounded breathy, his face was contorted in one of pure pleasure. With his eyes clenched shut, you couldn't see where he was focusing.
While you gasped and moans as he fucked you, you couldn't help, but to look at his soft chest. Those cute cherry pink nipples of his always tempted you, begging to be covered in the sheen of your spit.
You knew he'd get angry, but you could need help, you reached a hand up and pinched the little pink bud in your hand. The reaction was immediate.
His eyes shot open and quickly rolled back, little tears forming in the corners. You could see a small amount of drool dripping from his lips, and his rosy red cheeks go even redder.
“Wait- no… please! Hnng-” He moaned as his hips fell into a rather sloppy pace, followed by the familiar feeling of his dick twitching inside you and filling you up with warm cum.
You were obviously surprised by this, your mouth open in pure shock. You chuckled a bit. It was insane to think that someone as tough and menacing as Scara could cum from getting his nipples pinched.
He fell on top of you panting, but after catching his breath for a moment, he pretended that nothing happened.
“I'll help you finish,” he muttered like it was a chore, but still going down to spread your legs.
Days passed without him bringing the situation up, much to your dismay. But you did notice other little differences with him.
When you bathed with him, he'd ask you to wash his front as well, something he'd never done before. When you asked him about it, he just said that your touch was better. He began sleeping shirtless at night and he'd eye you the entire time you got into bed, only rolling over and getting comfortable when you'd dozed off to sleep.
And then there was the way he'd lounge around the house. Scaramouche was always partial to kimono, it was what primarily filled his closet. But in recent days, he'd stop wearing them in their normal proper way, instead he'd leave his obi loose and have his chest exposed.
You caught him like this one day with his chest exposed and you stifled a giggle. There he was, sitting in his favorite chair, relaxed back and reading a book, with those pink nipples out and touching the air. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he wanted you to play with them more.
You sat on the floor next to him and rested your head on his lap.
“What is it?” He muttered in his usual rude tone, while turning the page to his book.
“Oh nothing. Just this,” you followed your words up by taking that soft nipple into your fingers and tugging at it lightly.
His eyes shot open and the book fell to the floor, followed by a few docile mewls from his moist lips, “What-what do you think you're doing…?” He could barely manage to struggle words out.
His cock had already begun hardening in his hakama pants. You could see the way it was starting to twitch to life.
You gave him a devilish smirk and you leaned forward and sucked the little bud into your mouth. The way his back arched and his struggled out a moan made it all worth it. He could pretend he hated it all he wanted, but the whimpers and moans told you more than enough.
“Hah…hah~ fuck-” he strained to get words out as you tongue lapped at his chest, your other hand reach up to tug at the other pink bud that was begging for your attention.
“Don't fucking stop…don't you dare stop!” He ordered. His pants were pulled down his hips and his cock sprung free. Precum has beaded at the tip and he was already using it as lube while jerking himself off.
The sight was heavenly. The way his chest was heaving while you pleasured his nipples, how his body was writhing in pure bliss. His moans were rich and loud, the most vocal you'd ever heard him.
His hand had gripped the back of your head, pulling your hair but keeping you from moving.
“ ‘m cumming,” he gasped, almost in disbelief, “ ‘m fucking gonna cum!”
Scara let out a deliciously long moan as his dick twitched and cum shot from his tip. He laid there stiff, but trembling while many ropes of his cum leaked from it, falling on his chest and stomach.
After a few moments he released his cock and laid back, letting go of your head in the process. You pulled away from his nipple, a bit of pride on your face as you saw the way it shone with your spit, looking a little bit redder and more swollen.
He was still panting as he reached up to pat your head a gesture he only did for you when he felt necessary, leaning forward to place a chaste kiss on your lips, “Do that for me again tonight.”
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stxrvel · 9 months
Text
hate is a strong word
summary: you hated Bucky and you were convinced that he hated you back. until one time he was talking to you and it started to sound... lovely? what was happening?
pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader
words: 6k
warnings: some bad words, a lot of arguments, a HUGE flashback, a little bit of angst i think? bucky and reader insult each other, reader doesn't like to listen, bucky is easily angered, bucky likes to destroy things when he gets angry but regrets it easily, this is not exactly a healthy relationship(? descriptions of weapons, missiles and buildings being bombed, reader is also very stubborn and likes to put her life at risk… or so.
note: hi guys!! so i came back and i am kinda proud of this one. i think i haven't felt that way in a long time. i gave myself the time to write when i felt like it and it was wonderful, so this came out. also i put the poll for a whole week and i can't change it now >:(, but i think this onsehot fits the angst with a happy ending (im not sure if this fits the angst tho, you gotta tell me) but im gonna try to do something else that fits the vibe, and i'll probably do some other poll to write about someone else. (also i think i should warn you guys that i dont think im that good writing action scenes or tension scenes, so if that's bad i hope you forgive me): anyway, hope you guys like this one!! i love reading your comments so if you want and can, please leave some <33 love you all and see you next time!
part 2
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Bucky was really pissing you off too much at that moment. Or maybe you were feeling a little uncomfortable.
He hadn't spoken a single word to you since you had arrived at that tiny house, only shrugged silently and then exploded. You had seen Bucky explode several times before and you admitted that watching him was somewhat entertaining; seeing the faces of frightened people, trying to flee away from his angry face and destructive hands, but physically forced to stand by and listen to his scolding. You used to have fun with that. However, at the time, when you were the extreme recipient of that anger, it wasn't so much fun.
You had already heard a couple of broken glass, shattered wood and metal containers fall to the ground. Maybe five minutes or so had passed and he was barely pausing to look at his artwork. It wasn't too much that he had taken and thrown while you had stayed in the room, but it had all sounded very loud, so you had no choice but to go out and see what he was doing.
You were leaning against the threshold of the hallway to the bedrooms, right across from the living room and kitchen. Bucky looked like he had just finished getting all his anger out when he finally stood silently. He probably thought you were asleep while he was doing all that, as if that sound couldn't wake you up. Was he really that angry about what you had done? You mean, yes, it was very risky, but there you were alive, weren't you?
You felt the best thing you could do was to stay quiet and wait for him to say or do something, because you could risk that angry outburst really coming down in your face. For that moment he had only taken it out on the house, which had nothing to do with your problems, and you didn't want the arguments to start filling the silence that followed his stillness.
But, well, you didn't always do the right thing. That's why you were in that situation in the first place.
“Are you done yet?” you signed your sentence.
Bucky had a tense posture, squared shoulders moving in rhythm with his accelerated breathing. His back was to you, staring at the kitchen counter that had been left completely empty. You knew by the way he was clasping his hands that he was trying to maintain his composure.
“Are you serious?” his voice came out hoarse, a sign of his growing anger.
Maybe you should have stopped there, or when he continued to not turn to look at you, but you just couldn't keep your mouth shut.
“What's your problem, Barnes? Yes, I took a chance, but it's not that big of a deal. It's not for this,” you pointed to the mess around you, even though he wasn't looking at you.
“It's not a big deal, you say?” Bucky moved and you felt yourself watching his angry figure move in slow motion. “What's your problem?”
His beady eyes met yours. You felt a little intimidated by the ripples of annoyance coming off his body, filling the entire room with an unbearable, suffocating tension. His scowl and that strangely calm tone of voice made your hair stand on end.
None of the pieces of glass or splintered wood on the floor looked as dangerous as that expression on Bucky's face. He looked very angry, yes, but there was also something in his eyes when he looked at you. Something like concern… but that was impossible.
“Really, Y/N, what's your problem? Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“Now, what the fuck are you talking about?”
“I was the mission leader!” his voice rose, his body moving forward as he pointed his index finger at himself. “And you were supposed to follow my orders.”
“I did, Barnes, I-”
“No,” he exclaimed, again moving closer. “You didn't do anything I asked you to do! Why can't you just…? Argh.”
You moved back a little as he planted his hands on the dining room table. You felt a little pressure in your chest at the sight of him like this, as if defeated and hopeless. Disappointed. But that was a common thing. That's why you used to have individual missions, and that's why you didn't really like working in a team. You mean, it wasn't wrong to do it, but everything always ended up in arguments because nobody liked the way you worked, so it was better to do it alone, right?
Seeing Bucky like that reminded you of how many times you had seen that look on the faces of Steve, Natasha, Tony, Clint, even Thor… It was never welcome nor were you comfortable with what was coming next, but it was the way you worked, how could you change out of nowhere something you had done your whole life?
Maybe you just had to apologize, sometimes that worked. Because you also knew that, knowing how bossy and caring Bucky was, you should have at least held back a little during the mission. Bucky's patience couldn't stand that sort of thing.
“Listen, I'm sorry, okay? I was a little careless, but that's how-”
“A little careless?” he interrupted you, his voice and face incredulous. "You almost got yourself killed."
“We're in this job under that risk, Barnes, that's not news.”
The man in the middle of the mess ran his hands over his face, elated, frustrated and surely overwhelmed. He let out a sound somewhere between a snort and a growl before turning back to look at you.
“Why can't you just listen?”
His accusing gaze enlarged a hole in your chest that you constantly tried to ignore, planting bitter feelings of sadness that you were usually very good at avoiding. But at that moment, for some reason, you couldn't stop your face from twitching at the strong, hurt tone of the man who looked at you as if he couldn't believe who you are and what you do. It seemed like Bucky was always in denial and today he realized that what everyone always told him was true.
That look, that dull gleam in his eye, that expression of understanding… All of that you were used to seeing, but coming from him it felt different. As if you hadn't really meant to cause those feelings, as if you wanted to turn back time to do things differently. The surprisingly incredulous and remorseful look was digging deep into your head, searing itself with hot iron to make sure to haunt you in the future.
At that moment you didn't care if Bucky realized how much his words affected you. Maybe you deserved to feel that way. Maybe he should have known that it affected you too much, that would surely do more than an apology.
“If only you had listened to me, we would have left sooner and without any trouble,” Bucky spoke again after what felt like hours of silence.
You couldn't take him back. It was true.
“Why did you…? Argh. Whatever. I'm going to report to Fury.”
His figure passed you like a blur. You barely felt his presence very superficially before all was silent again.
Your heart ached again. For some reason, it wouldn't stop hurting that it was still beating.
The day before.
“WHAT?” you exclaimed in disbelief and the director's tired look reappeared.
“It's already scheduled, Y/N, I can't undo it. So just go, try to cooperate together and come back in one piece,” Fury leaned back against the back of the chair, putting his feet up on the desk.
You looked at his shoes as if they were to blame for everything.
“It's funnier to think Bucky reacted the same way,” Tony spoke up, sitting in the chair next to yours, a mocking expression on his face.
“Shut up,” you smacked his arm before turning back to the director. “Sir, you know Barnes and I don't get along and knowing that, what makes you think we'll hit it off on a mission?”
Fury shrugged. “A hunch.”
“A hunch…?” you repeated in a low tone, twice as incredulous that the big SHIELD director had just said that.
“That's it, agent, you're dismissed.”
You left his office on your own, not because you had been dispatched. The walk to the housing complex took you longer than ever at that point.
You'd only had one mission with Bucky Barnes once a couple of years ago and it had been a disaster. Your group missions usually ended with a close call, but that time with Bucky it was like going to hell and back.
You two had never gotten along. Regardless of Fury's hundreds of attempts to get along, you had never managed to vibrate on the same frequency. It seemed more like you repelled each other every time you were together, and it was totally justified because Bucky was too bossy and wouldn't let you breathe for a single second. Every second of the mission had to be ruled by him because otherwise he was going to explode into a sea of rage and, God, no one wanted to piss Bucky off in that Complex. However, you were always the first to tell him that his tactics weren't working or that he was too slow and well, naturally, you ended up arguing.
You met Natasha and Steve halfway to the rooms and from the way they both looked at each other before the redhead approached you knew you must surely have a scrunched up face.
“Did something happen?” Natasha asked as soon as she reached your side and started walking at the same pace as you, slightly more hurried than usual.
“Fury assigned me a mission with Barnes,” you spat out the good news, impossibly frowning harder at the mention of that name.
“Oh,” Natasha nodded. “Well, you could try to work things out-”
“What things, Natasha?” you paused, turning to look at her as everything around you turned red. “There's nothing to fix here, because Barnes is a stubborn, obstinate, childish, bossy, stupid man who is incapable of speaking like a civilized adult and only knows how to shout orders everywhere as if he's the bossy one in the Complex. I can't stand him!”
“Wow.”
You heard his voice.
“I hope you know the feeling is reciprocated.”
You turned to see him, his body was leaning against the island at the entrance to the kitchen, in a strategic spot as if you could never realize he was there because your path was to the other side. Natasha watched between the two of you like a tennis match, fearful as if at any moment the screaming would start and she would have to run away.
You didn't know what to do. You were super angry, yes, and you felt your blood boiling inside your veins, too. And you'd said all that stuff to Bucky's face before, and God knows how many times before you'd argued just by seeing each other in the halls of the Complex. Despite that, you felt trapped. The anger was still there, yes, but his gaze pierced through you like a sword.
“Believe me, I don't want to go on this mission with a stubborn, obstinate, headstrong, ignorant, individualist like you either, who cares not for the safety of the team but for her own victory, no matter how she achieves it.”
With his eyes sharp, his heavy footsteps approached you, echoing in your head loudly like the second hand of a clock. He had stopped at a safe distance as he spoke and at one point Natasha had grabbed your arm when it seemed you had tried to approach him as well.
“You're a hypocrite,” you spat at him.
“Ha! Me?”
“You always play the saintly dove, but you know you're not much different from me.”
“I'm nothing like you,” Bucky wrinkled his face, as if the very thought caused him to shiver with disgust.
“You're an individualist, too, imposing your plans on others.”
“You never have a plan! What do you expect me to do, let you go and die?”
“I do have plans! But you don't like them because they are more effective than yours.”
“They're more effective at the cost of risking more of our lives.”
“That's what our job is all about!”
“Our job is about protecting! How are you going to accomplish a mission if you're dead?”
“Well, I've done pretty well so far, in case you haven't noticed.”
“If I had a nickel for every time you've gone airhead straight into danger and ended up nowhere near dead, I'd have as much money as Stark.”
“And if I had a nickel for every time your stupid, slow plans have caused you to lose sight of the target and made you come back empty-handed, I'd be twice as rich as Stark.”
“At least my kill rate is minus five.”
“And my hit rate is one hundred by the way.”
“Are you even listening to what you're saying?”
“That I always finish missions on the first try, unlike you?”
“That you're treating your life like it's something insignificant.”
“Ah, now you care about my life?”
Natasha tightened her hand around your forearm again preventing you from again getting too close to the man who was getting on your nerves. Before he could respond, you spoke again:
“Look, Barnes, to make it absolutely clear to you for the rest of your long life: I love my life and I love my job. I love my life because it allows me to have this job and I love my job because it allows me to have this life. If you have a problem with how I choose to do the job, that's just that, your problem. But don't think you're coming here to give me a psychology lesson to make me believe that I don't value my life just because now you've run out of arguments. It's because I value my life, Barnes, that I always come out of every mission unscathed. I don't put myself at risk because I'm oblivious. I always have everything figured out and that's why everything always works out for me.”
Bucky snorted, his body moving away from yours, but despite that expression on his face he didn't respond again. He gave you a sidelong glance before walking back into the kitchen.
Your shoulders felt a little lighter. For a moment you thought he was going to continue arguing.
Natasha next to you sighed, finally letting go of your forearm.
“Why did you hold me so tight?” you frowned at her, rubbing the part of your skin that was slightly red. “Did you really think I was going to fight a super soldier?”
Natasha shrugged under your gaze.
“We've known you to do crazy things.”
“I wouldn't have stood a chance of beating him even if he gave me the upper hand.”
Five hours earlier.
You hadn't seen Bucky for the rest of the day after that discussion, until the next day when you had to get on the Quinjet and didn't even glance at each other.
Steve was in charge of handling the airplane and, apparently, he was also in charge of briefing you on how you were going to proceed on the mission, because Bucky was too busy drilling holes with his gaze somewhere else on the Quinjet away from the two of you.
Neither spoke when you descended nor when you approached the base apparently in a state of abandonment.
Bucky's mission were flat and simple, but as usual he had no backup plan, because all his backup plans were the same: run away. Bucky had a chick's sense of survival, that's why when things went bad was the time when he would scream at you the loudest.
Just like it happened on that mission.
“This place is deadly quiet,” you spoke for the first time, barely earning a sidelong glance from the man next to you.
You had already finished thermo-sensor checking every floor of the building and it was indeed desolate. Still, you felt a strange uncomfortable chill run down your back.
“Well, that's what deserted means,” Bucky commented, his sarcasm sharp.
You rolled your eyes at him, even if he couldn't see you, and kept walking with your gun raised as you approached the checkpoint.
“I mean I can't even hear birds or crickets, doesn't that strike you as odd?”
“Well, we're on the fourth floor, wouldn't it make it stranger if you could hear them at this altitude?”
“Well, you can hear at this height. Tell me, do you hear anything down below?”
Bucky paused. They were a few steps away from reaching the room. His deadly stare caused you nothing but boredom and you would have ignored him completely except that he let out a sigh, dejected. You detailed him minutely as he seemed to focus his hearing on external sounds.
“There's nothing,” he spoke after a few seconds, his brow slightly furrowed.
“You see?”
“But that doesn't mean anything. We'd better finish this quickly.”
Ignoring the grimace on your face, Bucky moved to step into the room whose door was wide open. You stared offended at his back and felt the urge to smack his big head with the butt of your gun.
“Here it is,” you heard him exclaim from inside.
Sighing you made your way to where he stood. A large display of old computers anchored to the wall.
“You should do it yourself,” you looked at Bucky with a smirk. “I don't handle equipment this old.”
Bucky only snorted in response and moved with his gun to another side of the room, leaving you in complete silence to do your job.
You moved quietly and sat down in front of the machines. You plugged them into the power source you brought in your suitcase and in a few minutes they began to work.
The mission was simple. There was one of the old HYDRA bases that contained specific information that Fury needed to find. Up to that point, they had searched about seven abandoned bases without any success. So there you were with Bucky, at the eighth base they had identified, digging through old commands and in another language trying to find the information they needed.
Ever since they left the Complex that morning you were convinced you would find nothing. They had already raided several bases and there were still a few more to go. The probability that you would find that information at that time was…
Bingo.
“Got it,” you exclaimed to Bucky.
You heard his hurried footsteps and then felt the warmth of his body next to you.
“Is that it?”
“Just a folder.”
“And why does it load so slowly?”
“It's an old computer, Bucky, it works at its own pace.”
Bucky gave you a sidelong glance. “Wish you understood me like you understand that thing.”
“Aish,” you pouted by way of mockery. “Jealous, Barnes?”
The aforementioned just snorted.
The load was running at forty percent and truth be told, yes, it was too slow. But you could do nothing but wait, there was no way to speed it up.
Bucky paced back and forth behind you and you just watched the green lines move as if that helped at all. But, well, what else could you do?
At one point, as the charge was about to reach eighty percent, you heard interference on your communicators.
“Argh,” you shook your head and raised your hand to move the device a little away until the sound died down. “Steve?”
There was no response.
You turned to look at Bucky, who had the same quizzical expression.
The interference returned and then you heard Steve's voice distorted.
“… of… moment!”
“What the fuck is he saying?”
Bucky remained silent, tapping the device on his ear as if that would fix it.
But you saw it before you heard Steve's voice again.
A clump of people through the window. A freshly loaded cannon.
“Barnes…”
And at that moment, Steve's voice filled them with clarity.
“It's an ambush! Get out of there now!”
The quickness of the impact didn't let you process what was happening. Less than a second after hearing Steve the ground shook beneath your feet. The cracks in the floor started small and then swallowed you apart.
You held onto a beam, barely lucid enough. You propelled yourself upward, swinging your forearms over the patch of ground that was still intact. You heard Bucky's grunts in the distance. He was surely all right.
You heard him call out to you too, but as soon as you could sit down on the ground, the first thing you did was to reach for the pendrive.
Your heart was pounding, so hard it might as well have flown out on its own. Your breathing accelerated, with adrenaline rushing through your body was the only thing you could feel. At that moment you felt capable of anything.
You stood up quickly to look out the window again. The people were gone and the cannon had been destroyed.
It was at that moment that you realized that Steve was still talking on the communicator.
“I'm fine,” you replied, after being able to decipher his words amidst the constant buzzing from the sound of the explosion and the dizziness you felt at the sight of the hole next to you.
“Okay, you're both fine,” the Captain spoke again.
“Y/N, you can get down from there and get to the floor below. I'll catch you.”
At the sound of Bucky's voice, you moved away from the window.
Bucky had landed on the floor below, and yes, from where you were you could jump up and you'd probably have nothing but a cramp.
“How's it going up there?”
“Well, the shields are holding up okay, but I've got poor vision. I think they're regrouping somewhere else.”
You looked around.
Most of the floor had swallowed up the computers, but the main one was still loading the document. You could see the green from where you were. It was at ninety-seven percent.
But it was dangerous to get too close. The pendrive was dangling from the main computer which was about to succumb to the cracked floor.
There was some concrete left in front of the computers that you could walk across, so, without a second thought, you mapped out a mental guidance plan and moved forward.
“Y/N, what the fuck are you doing?”
“I'm getting the pendrive.”
“What? Are you insane? That side of the floor isn't going to support your weight!”
“Yes it will. I know how to do it.”
You started walking all over the remaining edge of the floor in front of what was left of the computers. Small pieces would break off as you passed causing Bucky to hiss.
“Y/N, you'd better stop and get down right now. There's still a risk of them firing again.”
“I'm gonna get it, Barnes.”
“Y/N! Get down, now!”
Ignoring his command, you held onto the remaining wall in front of you as you continued on your way, almost reaching where the pendrive was, about to fall into the abyss.
Ninety-eight percent.
“Y/N!”
“Fucking hell, Barnes, will you shut the fuck up? Your yelling is breaking my concentration.”
“You want me to just stay quiet while you walk to your certain death?”
“I'm not going to dieee- ahh-”
Your left foot, the one in front, wobbled as a piece of the floor came loose. You clung tightly to the wall as best you could, breathing deeply to calm your racing heart. Panicking at that moment wasn't going to do any good.
“God, I can't believe this,” you heard Bucky's voice, muttering to himself. “Now are you really going to get off?”
His voice sounded reprimanding, but agitated. In the midst of that mess, you wondered for a moment if he was really worried.
“I'm almost there.”
You heard him grunt in the distance.
You kept moving your feet in the direction of the main computer, this time more cautiously and more slowly. The floor all along that edge was too cracked, on the verge of falling. You were surprised it had lasted this long.
At that point, Bucky started talking to Steve, but you kept your full concentration on not falling. Maybe Bucky was right and you really didn't have any regard for your life, but…. No, no. You were very sure of what you were doing. You couldn't give up without trying everything. Maybe for Bucky it was too risky, but that was your life. And you knew you could do it.
Ninety-nine.
You had reached the critical point on the ground.
The voices of the two men were becoming too overwhelming, so you quickly took off your communicator and stuffed it in one of your tactical pants pockets.
“What the fuck did you just do?” Bucky exclaimed, a considerable distance away. He wasn't as far away as you thought.
“Your voices are distracting me!”
Good. You were close. Maybe from there you could reach it… if you stretched a little… a little more… a little- Whoop. Nope. You weren't that close. Another chunk of floor fell and with it everything around you shifted. The concrete was so unstable that it tilted further into the abyss after your not at all incredible maneuver.
You had to get even closer.
You had to use plan c.
But for that, the pendrive had to be one hundred percent charged and you weren't sure you could wait for that. Or well, you weren't sure the floor would hold. You had to be quick.
You heard Bucky behind you, but his words were carried away by the wind. You couldn't focus on him because that would be too distracting.
So, arriving at point x, you executed your plan as quickly as possible.
You ran. Even if the world was falling down, you ran. In the direction of the pendrive. The green number didn't change. You took a deep breath. You felt the sparks fly around you. The sound of the ground cracking was going to haunt you in several dreams.
You picked up the pendrive. You would have a few extra seconds as you leaned over and climbed over the computers to gain momentum.
The bing of the computer filled you with a rush of adrenaline.
One hundred percent.
You jumped. You held your breath for a second. Nerves built up in your throat. You felt like you were going to lose consciousness for a minute. Maybe you heard Bucky in the background, you weren't sure, but knowing him he was probably still scolding you.
In the midst of a deep exhalation…
Your feet hit the ground. You rolled. You moved quickly as you turned to see that the ground was still falling. You got up and ran.
You ran until you collided with a solid body. Bucky was shaking your shoulders.
"Are you out of your fucking mind?" he exclaimed, his face angry.
You could hear Steve's voice through his communicator because of how close he was.
“Shit.”
He grabbed your arm and you ran again.
Somehow, Bucky managed to get you out of the building as they bombed it again. You had a gunfight the moment you touched the cold snow.
You moved alongside Bucky like a symphony, aiming and firing with your gun until you managed to get away.
When you noticed that you kept going and kept running…
“Where's Steve?”
“If you had your fucking communicator on…”
Bucky grabbed your hand again to keep running.
You quickly reached a shack that looked abandoned and the man next to you wasted no time in letting go of you and running in the direction of what appeared to be a garage. There was a motorcycle.
You reached into your pocket only to realize that the communicator had been destroyed.
And Bucky looked too angry to want to talk.
“Get on.”
He drove all the way into town, but he didn't stop there.
You were on the road for at least about two hours. You had no idea where you were.
Somewhere along that trip, Bucky stopped in front of another abandoned shack and from there he pulled out a car. He set the bike on fire.
You went back on the road, for at least another hour.
Until you reached a small town and Bucky finally stopped in front of a house that didn't look so neglected.
“They destroyed the Quinjet's shields at missile point. Steve had to leave. We'll stay here until I can get through to Fury and we know what to do.”
His voice gave no room for retorts.
Present.
Well, yes, you were a bit reckless during missions, but so what? You got what you needed thanks to your incredible action plans and always came out unscathed. If you didn't do that during missions, how far behind would they be now in their knowledge against the enemy? They would probably be sitting ducks. Bucky didn't see that.
You two didn't talk for much of the afternoon and evening. You had spent it in the living room, trying to avoid the mess he had made to get something to eat and rest. You had perhaps slept for about three hours when you woke up and saw him sitting in one of the dining room chairs. The room looked cleaner than before.
Bucky sighed when he realized you had woken up.
“I'm sorry I yelled at you.”
You frowned. “What?”
“Earlier when we arrived. And for all the mess,” he averted his gaze when you leaned on your forearm to get a better look at him.
“Don't you think it was the least you could do?” quizzical, you sat back on the couch.
“Weren't you the one who said I don't know how to talk like a civilized adult?”
You rolled your eyes at him. “Sometimes.”
“Well, now I want to. That's why I deeply apologize for reacting that way.”
You remained silent, not really knowing how to answer him. On the previous mission you'd had with Bucky, when the whole mess was over and you were quietly in the Quinjet taking it all in, Bucky had only said “you're fucking crazy” to you before exiting the aircraft. There was no scolding, at least not from him, no complaining, no yelling. Just that. And with that you stayed for a week because you never even saw him again.
Despite the number of times you had heard that, you couldn't see it that way. That was your job, that was what you did and you didn't dislike it. You had done it forever, it was basically your way of life and you had always done it excellently. You trained and practiced for situations like that, that's why you were part of SHIELD's risk management team for so long. You used to risk your life like that to save other people and it didn't bother you. Now you were still doing it, also to save people. There was no dark reason behind it. You were contributing to a common good and that was enough.
“I guess I haven't made things bearable for you either,” you admitted with a hint of remorse.
“No, never,” Bucky shook his head in agreement.
“I'm sorry I scared you,” the words slipped from your mouth. You wanted to say something else, but, well, that had to work.
Bucky let out a short laugh. His head jerked in sync, his shoulders loose as if he didn't have a care in the world. For a moment you felt like you were somewhere else; maybe in a living room, some alcoholic beverage in one of your hands as one of your favorite songs played softly in the background, and Bucky. Bucky sitting in front of you, just like that moment.
Wow. What the fuck was that?
“You apologize for my reaction, but not for what you did?” his sly grin was getting on your nerves. You preferred it when he wasn't trying to upset you at the point of smirks. You never thought that was a weapon he could use against you.
Feelings.
Ew.
No, I hate Bucky Barnes. This is unacceptable. Mind, get your shit together.
“Well, I tried to do that earlier and you didn't care. I don't know what you want from me, Barnes,” you turned your head away, nonchalantly playing with your hair to avoid seeing those light eyes again.
“You'd better leave it at that. I couldn't take that knack away from you if I tried for years,” the sigh that accompanied his words reminded you of something you'd thought of when you were in the building. His face still looked calm, but a little upset by the wrinkle between his eyebrows.
“Why do you care so much about that?” you asked him directly now that you had the chance.
You looked at him as he turned his head away, his eyes roaming over your face, confused.
“Are you asking me why I care about your life?”
Puzzled, you shrugged. His look almost made you think that was a weird thing to ask, but was it really? “Yes. Well…. You hate me.”
“What? I don't hate you,” Bucky shook his head, his face more contracted than before as if you'd said he had cat ears on his head. He looked almost offended.
And that was the really strange thing.
You mean, almost as long as you'd known Bucky your relationship had been based on fights and demeaning adjectives to each other. That he would say that made even less sense than you asking him why he cared so much about you. He had to be pulling your leg.
“What? But I hate you because you hate me,” you explained vaguely, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. That was one way of putting it; that is to say, Bucky never gave any indication that he didn't hate you. Or well…
“I don't hate you,” Bucky shrugged, his nonchalant expression confusing you that much more. “You're just a little… insufferable sometimes.”
You rolled your eyes. “That's just a synonym for hating.”
“I don't hate you,” he repeated, this time turning to look you in the eye. For a moment you felt like your breath caught in your throat and you were going to choke. “I know we argue and say a lot of things to each other, but… hating is too strong a feeling.”
“Are you really serious?” you shook your head to get the extraneous thoughts out; that wasn't the time to make a discovery, to realize you had lived a lie.
“Yes. And just to make you more sure, I wouldn't mind hanging out with you outside the Complex,” Bucky blurted out, matter-of-factly.
Your head went blank.
“WHAT?”
Several seconds stunned.
Bucky barely cracked a smile at your dumbfounded expression. It sure looked like you'd actually seen cat ears grow on his head. The things he was now saying… they didn't make sense. “You dislike the idea that much?”
“Do you want to not say things so drastically different every moment? You're changing my perception of reality.”
Bucky kept his small smile and you had to swallow hard to ignore the warmth that settled in your chest. It wasn't welcome, not at that moment. The sound of that music in the living room in your head was getting louder, as if your own mind wanted to mock your surprise.
“Well, back to your question,” Bucky moved his hands nonchalantly over his lap and your eyes followed his movement unashamedly, “I don't see why I shouldn't care about your life. We are partners, after all.”
Partners? After all you had been through? Were you partners? Did Bucky believe that?
“Are we?” you didn't try to hide the incredulous tone that accompanied your words, because it already sounded like you'd just stepped through the door into a parallel dimension.
“Sure,” Bucky nodded to emphasize your words and the calm expression on his face became more familiar with each passing second. Could it be that that had always been the reality and you had been deprived of it? “We've known each other for five years.”
“I always thought you hated me…” you mumbled to yourself, looking lost because your head recalling every fight of the last few years, since you met him, every tongue out and every exalted word, but his incredible hearing clearly picked up what you said as if you had murmured it in his ear.
“Surely it was a mistake in communication.”
“Mistake?” you frowned at his reassurance. “You always called me stubborn and childish every chance you got.”
“I thought we were annoying each other. Although, of course,” his face became a little more serious, “there were times when I knew you hated me intensely. You said really hurtful things, what was I supossed to do? That's why I never bothered to talk to you like this. You did hate me.”
“Because I thought you…! Argh.”
Bucky smiled again.
“You're the insufferable one, Barnes.”
You hated the way your head snapped back to that image in the living room, so peaceful and calm, so serene and warm, the moment his barely noticeable smile hit you again. You had barely managed to get those words out of your mouth before you felt yourself running out of breath again.
Were you asthmatic?
And why was your head suddenly filled with platonic thoughts you'd never had before in your life?
What the fuck was happening to you?
“This is the longest civilized conversation we've ever had,” Bucky spoke again, his gaze wandering somewhere in the room.
Yes, that was true. Whenever you talked for this long it was always to argue and say hurtful things to each other. But you were too surprised by everything he had said, because just yesterday he told you that he didn't want to come on this mission with you either and in his eyes you were sure you saw something like what you felt. Something of hatred, when you saw your eyes through his.
Did you just… imagine it all?
Did you think he hated you because you hated him too?
Or maybe you wanted to convince yourself that he hated you. Maybe it was easier to deal with that than with the idea that you…
Oh no.
No, no, no. There's no fucking way that's it.
But then Bucky stood up and with his smug, know-it-all, hateful look, with that sly, evil grin, like he'd always known everything, like he was squirming around enjoying your confused stare, he held out his hand to you and said:
“Shall we fix something to eat?”
Oh, no, you were screwed.
--
a/n: thank u so much for reading!! <3
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norrisleclercf1 · 9 months
Note
If you write some more dad!carlos (à la the first mini lando headcannon) I will literally throw you a birthday party
A/N: Guess you’re going to have to throw me that birthday party 🥳 also he calls her risita because that means giggle in Spanish and yep she's about 6 or 7
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"Papi? Wake up." Carlos smiles, hearing the little whisper of his daughter Zaneta. "I am up risita." He grumbles, rolling over his daughter yelps. (giggle)
Her little arms and legs flail as she tries to push him off her. "Papi...crushing." Carlos chuckles, knowing he wasn't crushing her. He had no weight on her, she was his princess. "Risita, what are you doing up so early?" Rolling to the side, Zaneta catches her breath.
"Mamá is running errands and I'm bored." She whines, giving him puppy dog eyes. "I see what your mother means now." He groans. Zaneta had his eyes, and whenever they went wide and blank he was a sucker.
"Papi, I'm hungry." Carlos sits up, climbs out of bed and slides some pants on. "Come here." Swinging her up, she laughs her tiny arms and legs sticking out before wrapping around him.
"Did you sleep good?" Carlos asks, pushing hair out of his face. "Yes, did you?" She asks, resting her head on his shoulder. "I did risita." Smiling down at her.
She was his little girl, and he cherished these moments more and more as she grew. "What would you like for breakfast?" Placing her on the counter, going to the fridge. "Tortilla." She giggles as Carlos shakes his head. "An omelet? What? Risita, it's my day off and you want to eat healthy?" He chuckles pulling out the eggs.
"With cheese and bacon." She orders, Carlos turns raising an eyebrow at her. "Please." She adds, voice soft as she knows manners are big with her mother and father. "Good girl." Kissing her head, he lifts her off the counter, watching her run off.
He starts cooking, frying up the bacon you walk in taking a deep breath smiling. "Smells good." Mouth watering at the greasy food. "Looks good too." Pinching his ass, Carlos flinches away but laughs seeing you.
"Morning." Leaning in he kisses you, but a resounding eww has the two of you pulling apart. "That's yucky." Zaneta's face scrunched up in disgust. "Oh? Then is it yucky when Papi and I kiss you?" Raising an eyebrow at your sassy daughter.
"Get's that from you." Carlos whispers, you slap his shoulder prying a smirk out of him. "No, you're the drama queen. Wanna revisit your Ferrari days?" Carlos immediately stops, knowing you have proof everywhere.
"Nope, because Mamá and Papi are supposed to kiss me. Not each other." She quips, running back to her toys. "We need to limit her time with Lando." You whisper knowing if Zaneta heard that, she'd throw a righteous fit.
"I agree." Carlos flipping the bacon, the sizzle the only sound. "Go, I'll finish this." Pushing Carlos off the stove who smiles. "She's been missing you, go play with our daughter." You don't have to tell him twice as he plops himself next to her.
Laughter and food fills the house. This is what Carlos wanted in his future. Whenever people asked, he'd say a world championship and winning all the time. When really, he just wanted a family to always come home to with laughter, good food and love.
And he has that.
"Papi?" Carlos hums letting her place a tiara on his head. "Can I come with you to the next race?" She asks, smiling putting beads around his neck.
"Yeah? You want to see your Papi win?" He asks, Zaneta didn't really like the races more interested in running around with other kids and seeing the team principles to sucker them out of candy, sometimes money. "No, I miss Uncle Lando." Her innocent confession has Carlos freezing before chuckling unable to be mad.
"Yeah, you can come with me risita." Squealing she hugs Carlos, before running to kitchen to tell you the news.
Yeah, this was much better than a championship. Though he already has 2 of them.
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tumblerlove · 2 months
Text
Some cockwarming with Si...I'm in love, ok
Simon hates having to bring home any type of paperwork back to the house. He doesn't want to take any attention off of you. But if he doesn't bring it home, he knows it won't get done in time for his deadline
When he came home tonight, he had told you he needed to get work done still. What he really wanted to do was just stay with you and cuddle on the couch. But no, he most do important military things... even though his entire body is telling him you're just out that door waiting for him.... fuck these next few hours were gonna suck
Simon was in his office for over 3 hours now. You were seriously getting antsy for him...he was in the same house as you yes...but he was busy, and you knew that and didn't want to disturb him but...
It doesn't mean you couldn't go and check in on him for a second. Maybe even bring him something to drink. Just to see how he's doing, you know...
*knock knock* "Simon, can I come in?" You say softly. "Of course, love," his voice calls back. You walk in holding him a cup of water wearing only a shirt of his, panties and some fuzzy socks
"You've been in here for a while figured you needed something." You hand the glass to him and smile
Simon pulls you closer towards him after he's done drinking. "Thanks, love." He says, resting his head against your stomach while you play with his hair. "I'm not sure how much longer I'll have left, to do... you should just head on to bed." Simon's looking at all the papers he has strewn across his desk that he needs to still do. "I.. I don't mind staying up for you, Si...I just wanted to see your face for a second" he moves you to stand in between his legs so his hands can play with your ass while looking at you
"Thank you, love. I just want to see yours, too, believe me," Simon's says before he has an idea pulling you even closer to him
"I have an idea," he says with a smile while still rubbing your ass "Why don't you come sit in my lap while I finish this up?" "Really?" You ask him already wanting to climb into his big lap
"Yeah, why wouldn't I...come ere love" Simon pulls you right into his lap, having you straddle him. He feels already better having you on top of him. This paperwork feels like it's never-ending. Maybe with you, it'll go by faster or at least be more enjoyable
"Now that's better," he grunts out as he starts working on his papers again with you wrapped around him like a koala bear. After only a few minutes Simon can feel your cunt dragging over his clothed cock trying to adjust yourself. "Mmm" he's groaning out not expecting how nice it feels. "You ok, Si?" Asking not having any idea what you just did to him. "Yeah... yeah, I'm good. " he tries returning back to his paperwork
About 10 minutes later, he can't take it anymore. He can feel the heat from your cunt on his clothed dick and he needs more. He knows your not doing it on purpose and your just trying to get comfortable...but he can't think with you doing that. He can't stop moving now trying to get closer to your cunt. "Si-uh..what are you doing" you try getting the words out as he's rocking you back and forth against his clothed lap
"I can't deal with this paperwork without more of you" he's saying as he starts messing with your panties rubbing circles over your clothed clit making you gasp out a little. He's pushing your panties aside and starts teasing your entrance
"Mmm...I want more too" you moan and start grabbing Simon's pants pulling them down...thank fuck you don't have to wait any longer for him
Simon's sliding his fingers throughout your pussy spreading your slick all over and getting you ready for his cock. "I just need a little bit until I'm done...just something" he says when you get his boxers down finally. He's teasing the head of his dick up and down your slit making your hips buck. "Si...please fill me up" you bury your face into his neck crying for him to just do something
Simons grunting out "Fuckkkk here we go," as he slides himself into you. "Mmm God Si" he's filling you up completely now. Your ass is flat against his big thighs. Both of you as close together as possible sitting in the chair
"Shit...ok just stay like that...don't move...while I finish up." Simon can barely get the words to come out he feels your pussy pulsing around him. "Mmm, Si, hurry up..." You're moaning out while rocking gently back and forth, trying to get any friction... you both are not going to make it for long
"Fuck this" Simon grunts out as he tosses the paper out his hands to instead wrap around your waist to fuck you up and down his cock
"Oh, Simon...I couldn't wait anymore," you're crying out to him. Your holding on to his neck as he keeps pistoning his cock in and out of you. "I couldn't either - fuck - its ok." his papers are long forgotten as he's grabbing onto every inch of you he can
"You feel so good couldn't even think straight lovie," Simon says before smacking your ass as he moves you up and down. "Ohh shit" your cunt clenches on his dick from the slap. "You liked that huh?...I think you did. " Simon teases you as he sends another smack to your ass
"I'm gonna cum Si" your holding on to him for dear life as he keeps fucking up into you. Simon's hand comes down to clit and starts rubbing small circles helping you get closer to cumming
"Come on... let me have it, " Simon's groaning out as his pace and fingers quicken. "Oh, Simon, oh," you're crying out as you feel your orgasm hit, making your legs shake around Simon's waist as he keeps thrusting. "Shit...shit" Simon's head is tipping back as he cums inside of you feeling your pussy throb around him
"That was so much better then paperwork" Simon's lowly saying in your neck as his cum is dripping out of you down both of your guys thighs. "Mm I don't think I can move" you laugh softly as you can't feel your legs. He huffs out a laugh. "Who says I want you going anywhere...I never said I was done... forgot the paperwork".... shittt
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russellsppttemplates · 3 months
Text
Daddy's here, buddy (Lewis Hamilton)
A look into the Hamilton household now that they are a family of three
Note: english is not my first language. After a long time on hold (I know it has been a while, like, a really long time), I'm finally posting this one. I won't blame you if you have left, especially since it took me so long, but if you're still around, I hope you like this, anon!
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: mentions pregnancy, postpartum (difficulties walking, breastfeeding, soreness)
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog
As soon as Lewis was able, he flew straight back home, promising Toto and the rest of the team a detailed written debrief he worked on while he was on the plane.
When he landed, one of your friends was there to drive him straight home, "they are both doing well so the doctor discharged them this morning, they watched the race at home already with your mum", she smiled, noticing his antsyness, "we'll stop by my place so you can have a shower and change clothes, and then you'll get to meet him. I know I'm biased, and you'll be too, but he's the cutest little boy ever", she smiled, reassuring him that everything was well underway and that they were being careful with the baby's health.
"Carmen, can I have some water, please?", Lewis heard you call for his mother as he walked through the stairs that led the garage to the living area of the house, seeing the older woman pour the liquid into a mug and bringing it to you along with a straw.
"Hey, look who's here!", you smiled, handing the mug back to your mother in-law when you finished sipping from it.
Lewis walked closer to you, rubbing his mother's arm before he kissed the top of your head, taking a peek at the bundle in your arms. Baby Noah has been sleeping against your chest, pillowy lips agape without another care in the world, but he seemed to stir as he felt his father's presence in the room.
"Someone wants to meet daddy", you cooed as Lewis sat next to you on the sofa, arms expectantly held out as you transferred the baby to his arms.
Taking the baby wrapped up in the beige blanket and placing him on his chest, Lewis let one of his hands rest on his son's back to hold him close.
"Hey Noah", he whispered, looking up briefly to see his mother and wife smiling at them, "You were slightly early, weren't you? Daddy wasn't here when you came earthside, and I'm very sorry for it, but now we have all the time in the world", he whispered, softly touching his cheek and moving to stroke his head, feeling the soft baby hair.
Noah looked up at him as tears filled his eyes, "I couldn't wait to get home to you and mummy. I'm sure a lot of people want to meet you, I got told that much in the paddock", he smiled at the beautiful boy in his arms. "It's ok", Lewis whispered as the baby started getting fussy, opening his mouth and squinting his eyes closed as he cried loudly.
A quick look at the clock made you suddenly reach your arms out for your crying little boy, "he's hungry, it's just about time", you nudged, cradling him to you and kissing his forehead.
"I'm going to go, dears, leave you in your newborn bubble", Carmen smiled, "if you need anything, and I mean anything, call me, okay?", she checked, kissing your head and Lewis' before squeezing her grandson's little hand softly, "goodbye, baby boy, behave well for mummy and daddy, okay?".
After she saw herself out, you undid the top buttons of your shirt, unfastening the bra cover so you could feed your little boy, "That's it, good boy", you cooed, feeling your husband's eyes on you.
"We watched the race, congratulations on your podium", you smiled, your hand squeezing your husband's thigh once you balanced your baby on the feeding pillow.
"Thanks", he breathed out, "I still can't believe he's here, that he's ours", he shook his head, "we have our little boy here with us.
"Thank you for doing this for our family, I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner", he expressed, kissing your lips softly as Noah whined, "daddy can't kiss mummy, now? Oh, this is going to be interesting!".
.
"Am I doing this right? I think I am", your heard your husband say to your son as you started to wake up, "looks secured enough. Hopefully we won't have any explosions and nothing comes out of here".
Your hissing while trying to pull yourself up announced you were awake as your husband turned his torso slightly to face you, "mummy is awake, little love", he beamed, finishing popping the buttons on your son's clothes so he was comfortable.
By the time you found a way to pull yourself up and against the headboard, Lewis was sitting next to you, ready to pass Noah into your arms so you could feed him, "are you still feeling sore?", he asked, kissing your cheek.
"It's not as bad as yesterday", you assured him while you moved your boob so Noah could latch, ignoring the sting as his lips met your sensitive skin, "my back feels fine, but moving my legs might be tricky still", you offered.
"The midwife said that would be expected, so we'll just keep an eye out for anything serious, yes?", your husband said as you took the opportunity to rest your body against his naked chest, his arm going around your shoulders and softly tracing shapes on your bare skin.
"Can you burp him while I use the bathroom?", you asked as Lewis as he got up, burping him while standing up as you slowly got up as well, waddling to the en suite bathroom.
"Are you going to sleep now, little one?", he cooed, rocking him to sleep once all of the air trapped in his tummy got out, "you have a clean nappy, full tummy, and daddy needs to go and make sure mummy is okay", he chuckled, "with time, you'll see it takes her a while until she asks for help even though she's usually been needing it for way longer".
"Lew?", you called from the bathroom, "yes, darling?", he called back as he knocked on the door softly, asking for your permission to look inside, "I need to have a shower, but I don't trust my legs to keep me up, and sitting on the floor is not a good idea so, like - do we even have a stool I can sit on? -, I need something to support myself on", you asked.
"Noah is asleep, I can leave him here, in the middle of our bed, keep the door open and help you with your shower if that's okay", Lewis offered, "if I look around, I might find something, but I'm not sure we own a stool that can be put in water".
Weighing your options, you waddled back to your boys, kissing Noah's forehead and looking up at Lewis, "you don't mind helping?", you wondered.
Lewis placed Noah on the bed, making sure he was in an angle where you could see him from the bathroom, "c'mon, shower time, darling", he soflty nudged.
He turned on the warm water as you undressed yourself, disposing the underwear safely in the bathroom bin and walking into the shower compartment, thankful that Lewis insisted you needed a wide and ample space for it as it now perfectly accommodated the two of you once he had no clothes on either.
"Is the temperature good?", he asked and you nodded. Your body didn't feel wrong to you, just new, and Lewis seemed to be on the same page, tracing your hips and tummy softly while you wet your hair.
By now, the routine was so engraved in your lives that Lewis knew which steps followed which, only stopping when you needed to support yourself on him, to steal a few kisses or take a peek of Noah.
"Now he's sleeping well", you muttered chuckling as you wrapped a towell around your body, accepting Lewis' hand as he took you to the bedroom, "I have your underwear ready with those witch hazel round pads to help with the soreness", he added.
Helping you put them on along with the rest of your clothes he gathered from the drawers, your husband left a trail of kisses anywhere his mouth was close enough to your skin as he dressed you, "how about a nap? Noah surely kept us up so we could do with some sleep", he smiled, pulling you to lie against his chest while you cradled your son against your own chest.
.
"I know, baby, I know", you gulped, grabbing the silicone covers for your nipples while bouncing Noah on your bent legs, "mummy is trying to make this better for both of us, hopefully this works", you tried, fitting the piece and pulling Noah to you, encouraging him to suck.
The specialist had told you that using the covers would help you in days where the skin was extra sensitive, but its continuous use could mean that Noah would have to work harder to get his milk in, leaving him to get more tired and eat less, ultimately making him drop his weight.
"Hey, darling, I'm back", Lewis called from the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets as he stored away the things he bought from the shop.
"In the living room", you croaked out, holding the tears that threatened to fall as Noah seemed to drift off to sleep, "ah-ah, baby boy, you have to eat more, otherwise you won't grow", you groaned, taking off the silicone piece and biting your lip as his lips made contact with your skin directly.
The tears you worked on keep at bay fell down your cheeks as Lewis walked inside the living room, "hey, darling, I - what's the matter?", he checked you over, sitting next to you as you looked up at the ceiling.
"It hurts, a lot", you cried, "the only way it doesn't hurt is if I have these on, but with them he won't eat, so I have to compromise that", you allowed him to wipe your cheeks, "what a great mother I am, talking about compromise when I am feeding my baby", you scoffed at your own words.
"Hey, it's okay to talk about it if it hurts, darling. I'm so, so sorry, I wish I could do something to take that pain away", he comforted, kissing your cheeks as he pushed your bodies closing together.
"I will rub the cream afterwards, and we can try the silver nipple covers, we haven't done that yet", he suggested, his hands tracing shapes on your skin and squeezing the area, hoping to distract you from the pain you were feeling.
"I'll put him to sleep, okay? You can go and freshen up, darling", Lewis said as he bounced Noah on his arms after burping him, giving you time to use the bathroom and get a little bit of fresh air.
After splashing your face with water, you lightly dabbed the towell on your face before walking to the kitchen, opening the door that lead to the back garden and standing in the sun for a few minutes.
It was easy to get lost. A lot of people, specially the ones who were brutally honest about the whole experience, told you that much. Not out of spite or because they wanted to scare you, but rather because they cared enough to tell you about all of it. It was easy to lose yourself because all your focus was on your baby. Truth was, if you lost yourself, your baby would end yo suffering, too, so the whole situation required balance. Right now, the sun rays hitting your skin seemed to tip the scales to an even line.
"He's asleep already", you heads Lewis say, baby monitor on hand hand and another one with a cup of tea for you, "here, beautiful", he offered.
"Everytime I look at his face, I can't believe we made him. Such a perfect baby, how is he ours? But, it's also a lot sometimes", you breathed out, letting go of the guilt that was consuming you and recognising that you could love your family unconditionally and still admit that things could get hard. One didn't override the other.
"It's okay to admit that", Lewis said, pulling you to rest your back against his chest, "but we'll go, day by day, see what it brings us. You're doing so well, Y/N, you've been so strong for our family", he smiled, kissing the top of your head, "will you let me take care of you now?", he wondered, guiding you back inside for a little pamper session.
.
"Your tummy really is troubling you, isn't it, little one?", Lewis said as Noah didn't seem to settle down, cries and whimpers leaving the little baby's mouth as he rocked him back and forth, "should we try those massages daddy was taught in the baby classes?".
Laying Noah on the changing table, Lewis unswaddled him before holding his legs, "first we go into frog mode", he chuckled, pulling the little legs into position before wiggling his hips and tummy, "the nurse in the baby classes said to wiggle a little, and apparently you are very flexible at this point, so you're like putty almost. It's a bit scary, but you seem to be doing better, right buddy?", he said, noticing he was passing some gas already and his whimpers had died down.
As you came out of your shower, you watched the replied on your son's face as the noise coming from his diaper confirmed the reason from his previous pains, "Oh, that was a big one!", you giggled, approaching your boys as Lewis grabbed a new diaper, "I'm on it!", he said, kissing your cheek and taking care of changing Noah.
"Do you want to go on a walk this afternoon?", you wondered, "I feel a little better ans I want to start being a little more active. Nothing crazy, but rather a nice way to leave the house", you suggested, being met with your husband's sparkly eyes, "of course, darling. I'll get him a new outfit, we're going to be matching!", he smiled as he noticed the colour pattern you were going for.
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ziggyzolch · 1 month
Text
Headache (Wanda Maximoff x Reader)
Summary: If you could describe yourself in three words, they would be: little shit speedster. Causing trouble was your favorite pastime, and you've never been caught. That would change, however, when an angsty witch is assigned to capture you. Warnings: Cursing
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The stench of vomit and cigarettes fills your nose as you duck and hide in an alley next to a nightclub. Wiping sweat off of your forehead, you peek your head out of the alley and watch the police cars that were chasing you turn the wrong corner. After making sure the coast was clear, you let out a breath then fall to the ground in laughter. “Idiots.” You push out in between giggles.
Being a little shit was your specialty. From egging random houses to stealing batons from unaware police men, there was nothing you weren’t up for. Graffitiing police cars, though, wasn’t something you did often, but definitely what you had just done. You were adding the finishing touches, pubes, to the massive penis you just spray painted on the car when a cop finally noticed you. It was embarrassingly easy to outrun him, you can’t blame him though. 
You discovered your superhuman speed the first time you got caught messing around, and your shit-headedness increased tenfold. The early years of your childhood were a mystery to you, only rarely getting short, useless flashbacks to being in a lab of some sort. You figured that's where your abilities came from, but in all honesty you didn’t really care. Whatever you didn’t remember was not your problem. 
A good 3 minutes of laughing later, you catch your breath and sprint back to your dorm, ignoring the glowing red light at the corner of your eye.
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Walking into your dorm room, the first thing you notice is how cold it is. The door closes behind you, a red mist dissipating around it. Your eyes widen and you let out a quiet ‘What the fuck’ before the sound of your chair moving catches your attention. Your window was open. The first explanation you think of is that your roommate is playing a stupid prank. “You aren’t funny, Becca. Why are you even still up-” You pause, a figure suddenly appearing in front of you.
That is most definitely not your roommate. 
They cover your mouth right when you're about to scream. 
“Shh, she’s sleeping. Move.” The stranger, which you now know is a woman, turns you around and pushes you out of your dorm, her hand still covering your mouth. Your thoughts start racing. ‘What the fuck! I should’ve brought my rape whistle with me. This is definitely human trafficking. Couldn’t they kidnap me tomorrow, I have homework-’ 
The woman turns you around “Shut up! For fucks sake- ew!” She stares at you in shock. Did you just lick her hand? After an awkward stare off you finally speak, “Fuck you, rapist!” You turn to run when you’re stopped by a…red cloud?
You can hear her voice getting closer while she stomps towards you, “Don’t even try to run, and I’m not a rapist you little shit.” 
“Let me go!”
“That’s not happening.”
“Yeah cuz you’re a RAPIST.” 
She pinches the bridge of her nose, “Tony told me you were a handful but I didn’t think it’d be this bad”
“Yeah well…Fuck you and Tony!”
“Oh my god.”
“Rapist!”
“Enough!” You’re about to reply with another accusation when red fills your vision. 
Wanda picks you up from where you passed out and sighs in exasperation. Tony’s in for a ride.
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Next Part
A/N: This is the first chapter! I'll probably upload more on AO3 and Wattpad, @ziggyzolch on both :)
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bluecollarmcandtf · 3 months
Text
My Found Family
I never grew up with the luxury of family. As an orphan, my childhood was lacking to say the least, and it left me jealous of any kid with caring fathers and siblings. That's why I had to find my family. Nobody's perfect, but with a little reconditioning, I've trained them to be exactly what I was looking for.
This guy is now my father...
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"Breakfast is ready, boys!" I call, using my lower register like I'm supposed to, "Whoops! I mean bacon-fest!"
Guttural laughter comes from my stomach even though I don't find my joke that funny. Bad jokes like this have sort of become my personality lately. In fact, my whole life has transformed over the last couple days. A week ago, I would've never imagined myself strolling around my house in nothing but underwear and a robe! My standards for style seem to have vanished along with pretty much every other part of my old way of being.
It happened three days ago at a grocery store, when I ran into this guy in the produce section. He caught me examining avocados for ripeness and walked right up, beginning to talk like we'd known each other for years.
It was all a bit bizarre, but I found myself unable to turn away. He was explaining my life to myself. Well, not my life, but the one he wanted me to live, the one I was meant to live, and I hung on his every word. He was maybe six years younger than myself, but I was to be his new daddy. It was a role I was proud to fill.
"Here you are, son," I grin widely, unable to contain the feelings of pride I have as he walks into the room.
"Thanks, old man," he answers and grabs the plate gratefully.
For a moment, I stand there and stare. My heart beats for my boy as he tears apart the food I made for him. My paternal instincts have been working overtime lately. I can't help but love that boy with every fatherly fiber of my being.
It doesn't matter that I never wanted kids before. Previously, I'd wanted to remain a bachelor forever, but I have them now, and it couldn't feel more perfect.
With a content grin, I turn back to the sizzling bacon and think about my day. Things I used to hate were now what I looked forward to; mowing the lawn, washing the car, cleaning the gutters. I have a full day of work ahead of me to keep this house in tip top shape. Of course, I'll do it all with an ice cold beer in my hand. I never had a taste for the stuff, but my boy thinks I should grow a bit more of a gut.
I know what I say goes around here, but I could never say no to my favorite son...
I obviously have dad wrapped around my finger, but he's not the only member of this family. This next dude is my new big bro...
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"Fuck yeah," I grunt and sniff up the ripe stench under my arm, "Smells like a real fuckin' man!"
I toss the barbell down, finishing a new personal record on the bench press and I couldn't feel more pumped. My tank top and sweat pants are drenched with sweat, but I love bein' a nasty gym rat: at least, I do now.
A week ago I was waiting tables at this fancy restaurant, when one of the customers got to talking with me. He was sitting alone and looked kinda sad, so I tried to be friendly and I'm sure glad I did! I got a whole new family out of it. He made me quit my job and move into this sweet place. Now I'm his big brother!
Of course, like all big bro's, I'm supposed to work out in the garage all day. I was never one for weights, but I couldn't imagine my life without them anymore. I like to push my limits and get all hot and sweaty. Then I march around the house flexing and farting all over the place. It's not the most refined thing in the world, but my bro explained to me how much I don't care about hygiene and all that crap.
"Wassup, little man," I call as he saunters in.
"Nothing much," he answers, staring at my arms while I show off my biceps.
"Alright, get out of my space. I'm tryin' to work out," I snarl, acting as tough as possible, "Do I need to wrestle you again to prove my point?"
I definitely didn't used to be like this. I used to be the most polite and approachable guy in the world, always chatting random people up, but that guy's gone. My bro got rid of him and his old family. This new family is the only one I'm interested in now, even if I'm not supposed to show it. I'm supposed to be muscular, rude, and gross. It's who I am now.
"Alright, I'll leave you to it," he replies, "You can wrestle me though."
"I will," I frown, flexing even harder, "And this time, I'll win!"
Whenever we wrestle, I always end up with the urge to let him win. It sucks because I could easily beat him, and I should put him in his place, but for some reason, I just know I have to let him win. He just deserves it I guess.
I give him an intense glare and then return to my weights. These arms aren't going to pump themselves...
My big bro always makes my legs quiver, but I love seeing how cocky he can get. Of course, he'll never out wrestle me no matter how big he gets. I programmed him to let me win. Just like I programmed the breadwinner of the bunch...
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A short groan rumbles from my lips. For some reason, everything has been disappointing me lately: my sons, my husband, my job has all been leaving me grumpy and frustrated. Even the channels on the TV aggravate the living hell out of me. I have to fight the urge to chuck the remote across the room.
"How was your day, honey," my husband asks, walking into the room and handing me a beer.
"Great," I moan without any emotion.
Everything's been changing so fast lately, and I couldn't be more over it. I was married to my work, busting ass for years to get promotion after promotion, and I had a job I loved that paid extremely well. I couldn't be more happy, even if I was the only unmarried guy in the office. I didn't mind. I loved my bowling league and my solo trips to Vegas too much to settle down.
Then I met him, my son. Well, he wasn't my son at the time, but after talking, I quickly realized who he was and who I was to him. I'm the head of the household, the disciplinarian, the breadwinner. At least, that's who I've become.
"What's for dinner?" I grunt, peeling my eyes away from the TV.
Looking at my husband, odd feelings bubble up. I used to know him as my neighbor, a nice enough guy, but now I'm married to him. It all happened so fast. He's changed too recently, I think. The guy I knew a week ago would've never walked around all day in a robe and underwear.
His hand reaches out and holds my own, "Steak and potatoes if that's alright with you."
I grunt in agreement, turning back to the TV. My husband's presence stirs my cock to life, straining my member against my work slacks.
This is another new development.
Until now, I'd never had a gay bone in my body. In some ways, I still don't, but my son explained how I should feel about my husband. I should love him, I should be turned on by him, and I should get it on with him. He's right, I suppose.
"Hey, I could use a blow job before you get cooking," I gesture to the thick tent in my pants.
My husband pauses for a moment like he's unsure of what to do, but then it comes to him, "Of course, babe, but we need to be quiet. Both of our boys are home right now."
"Don't worry about it. If they walk in without knocking they'll get the belt," I snort as my husband gets on his knees in front of me.
"You shouldn't be so hard on-" before he can finish, I've shoved his face into my crotch.
Somehow, I know I can be rough with him, just like I can be rough with our sons. I'm the man of the house after all. Within seconds I'm grunting in pleasure while staring at the evening news broadcast. For some reason, I always find myself watching it and complaining about current events. It's just who I am now..
I grin, sneaking a peak at my two dad's going at it in the living room like the good little couple they are. My new family couldn't be more perfect, but no family is complete without the dog...
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"Ruff!" I bark, gleefully scampering over to the bowl of food that was just placed on the floor.
Without hesitating, I shove my face into the bowl, sending the little pellets flying everywhere. They taste like cardboard, but for some reason, I can't get enough of them! I've done nothing but drool and whine for the last hour while the real humans eat their dinner at the table.
"That's a good boy," a voice coos, and I feel fingers running through the hair on my head.
I can barely acknowledge being petted. I know I'm supposed to act like a hungry animal right now, so that's what I do.
I would've never thought I'd find myself as a house pet, but a couple days ago, this guy just walked up to me and talked me into it. It'd just been a normal day for me, working at the car garage when he became my master. I knew right there and then that I had to drop to my hands and knees and follow him home with my tongue out.
My new life has been great ever since. My masters play ball with me outside, they hose me down when I get muddy, and they snuggle with me on the couch at night. I barely even miss my old work and fiance!
"Alright, boy," one of my master's commands, "That's enough. Get in here!"
It's the mean one. The one who used to own this house, but is now just a working dad. He's always the one who hits me with a newspaper when I drink from the toilet. I don't know why, but I just feel compelled to do it!
Licking the bowl clean, I abandon it and crawl into the living room. There, the entire family is gathered around the television.
I stop by the smelly one and sneak in a few licks. I love licking him because he's always salty with sweat and smells funny. After licking his feet for too long, he kicks me away, "Leave me alone, mutt!"
"Oh don't talk to him that way," the nice one adds.
I climb on the couch and curl up beside him. His belly is always the perfect cushion for my head to rest on, and he always lets me lick his beer bottle when he's done. Within a couple minutes, I'm drifting off as his hands absently play with my hair...
...sitting with my family at night is always my favorite part. Watching TV with my two dads, brother, and dog heals the child in me that had always yearned for this. Sure, it might be easier to just go to therapy, but this is sure as hell a lot more fun!
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merlinssassybeard · 11 months
Text
'Ex' Husband Gojo - Better without me
Part 2 || series masterlist
Tags- gojo x fem reader, angst, fluff
Synopsis- A look at Gojo's feelings for his now estranged wife. While his wife goes through a breakdown
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7th December, 2016
It was Satoru's 27th birthday.
Satoru knew but it really wasn't his priority honestly. Besides, he's not really in a mental state to even think of it.
He recalls how you, his wife, would plan various different things each year for his birthday. You, his joy and the light of his dim life.
All gone now...
Gojo had finished his mission overseas as soon as he could and returned back to Tokyo to submit reports of the mission and then again had to leave for his next mission in Seoul, South Korea.
He was aware of the incident with you just a day ago. Shoko had told him that it was just dehydration which caused a little fever and that everything's okay.
Gojo wasn't convinced. He didn't knew why, even when he wanted to believe Shoko, his six eyes indicated otherwise. They tell him there's more and Shoko probably knows but staying quiet.
Satoru had a few hours in his hand before leaving for the Airport check in by 4 am.
He decided he'd go to the Estate, which now belonged to you (not legally). He wanted to drop by the souvenirs from that particular day since he didn't really got any chance to.
Satoru Gojo is very prideful and quite egoistic and that is no secret. One day, his pride and ego will be the death of him.
7th December 2016 || 1 am
Satoru arrived at the Estate.
The air felt heavy but he went in anyways. Flashes of that day playing endlessly in his head. How everything unfolded and how you ran after him to stop him but his infinity barred you. Satoru feels guilty.
He usually doesn't have any guilt or regret regarding anything but with you... its different. He shouldn't have just walked away maybe. Maybe talking to you and trying to understand you where you're coming from would've helped.
He enters the house and is welcomed by the sleepy head staff.
"Welcome back Lord Satoru. Shall i prepare your room? I'll warm the food-", the head staff, Mr Kawaguchi, asked.
"No need", "is y/n asleep? How's she doing?", Satoru asked as if didn't even hear what Mr Kawaguchi said.
"Yes, Lord Satoru, Lady y/n is better now.", he said and started guiding Gojo to the room where you resided, "Lady y/n had trouble sleeping so the doctor had prescribed some sleeping pills"
Both of them reached outside your room. Satoru ordered the Mr Kawaguchi to leave him.
Satoru closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying his best to suppress his intrusive thoughts of hugging you and tell you that he's sorry (something he would never utter), have a conversation with you to figure things out on what is the root cause of such an abrupt bringing up of something as hideous as a Divorce.
He opened the sliding doors and entered the room for the first time after the last time he'd been here.
You were sleeping on your back with your arms all around and legs in another direction, trying to cover all of the space of the bed as much as you could.
This was your marital bed. A bed custom made to fit the giant 6'4 of a husband of yours.
But now it was just you...
He looked around the room. Recalling the old times, the 4 years of marriage he had.
What a blissful dream it was... just you and him against the world. Deep in love, exploring new things together. The warmth of your palm on his, your blushing cheeks whenever he kissed your lips before leaving for his missions. The nights that he had spent in your warmth on this very bed, in this very room. Old times when you slept in the protection of his big strong arms or when he picked you up from the bed and threw you into the water filled bathtub...
Blissful times indeed...
A smile had crept on Satoru's lips because the memories.
He placed the bag of souvenirs by the bedside table and leaned down to look at your face.
Dark circles, slight hollow cheeks, bony hands, piles and piles of medications.
'Oh what have you done y/n', he thinks looking at you.
If he had to be honest, he's never been this vulnerable in his life like he is now. So many emotions flooding him that he couldn't help but remove his dark glasses and lean down to your face.
He placed his hands gently caressing your soft hair and dropped a kiss on your forehead.
You were lost in your dreams and Satoru was in his. His dreams where he had you and took better care of you and did everything right.
But that's just a dream. A dream with no scope of fulfillment...
He knew this is the last and final time he'll see you this up close.
"Y/n.." he whispered, "I hope you find-", he struggled to say any further but still got himself to say it, "I hope you find someone better who will give you a better life... that i failed too."
Satoru couldn't bear to look at you any further from this moment. He gave his blessings to you for a better life and left that instant.
He knew he won't stop you from leaving if... no, when thats what you want. A person who loves, will never hold their lover captive against their will.
And that's what Satoru believes in...
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It was 8am in the morning.
You were sitting in your bed, wrapped in the thick blankets while sipping your soup that your attendant brought while Shoko sat in the gray arm chair beside your bed reading newspaper.
Shoko has been visiting you every morning and evening to check up on you whether you're taking your pills timely and also to give you company considering the fact that you barely have any friends.
Your only friend, if you have to name with whom you would share everything would be Shoko and Mariko Zenin (whom you befriended during Clan meetings.).
You saw today's date.
'7th December', it read.
"Shoko... its his birthday today...", you mumbled with your head bowed
Shoko looked at you and she could see it, all the emotions that reflected on your face.
She wanted to confront you that why don't you tell him that it was all but a mistake afterall didn't he try to persuade you? So this should be easy?
She knew though this isn't the right time because you're still recovering but she couldn't hold herself...
"Y/n", Shoko began and you looked up at her.
"Y/n why don't you tell him about it? He has all the right to know you know! Didn't you say he persuaded you to not to leave? And you don't want to leave either!" She made a point. "So just call... this weird thing between you two off already. And be together"
You kept blankly staring at her.
Is it all really that easy? As if!
"Shoko, i can't." You told her.
"But why? Wouldn't it be easier?"
"Shoko you don't understand! I can't... i can't just tell Satoru that he was going to be father! You don't get it!", you tried to explain her.
"But why? Y/n why? Try me!", Shoko got up from the arm chair and sat on the bed and held your hand.
You didn't want to tell her. You really don't want to but she's the only person whom you trust.
"Shoko you don't get it, you don't get it!", you insisted
"Try me y/n!"
"You won't get it Shoko!", you kept refusing
"Y/n!", Shoko kept insisting.
"Satoru didn't want to be father and that was our mutual agreement before we got married! I've always taken precautions to stand by my word ever since our marriage... but Satoru's family has been pressing me to get pregnant... So i didn't take any pills one day and a month later found out i was carrying... our baby.."
Shoko was left speechless.
But you continued with tears rolling down...
"I thought... when Satoru will return I will tell him everything but before i could... i-i lost our child". You struggled
"Maybe it was the God's way of punishing me for trying to force an innocent man like Satoru something he isn't prepared for.", you laughed through the tears. "Maybe its better this way Shoko. We should Divorce. I can't carry children to make his family happy anyway..."
Shoko wanted to say but the words just wouldn't come to her tongue. Maybe its because its not her place to interfere.
"Y/n...", Shoko didn't know what to say any further so she leaned closer and hugged you.
You hugged her back. You felt like a large rock got off of your chest now that you told her everything...
But things were about to take a different direction because one of the lady staff was secretly eavesdropping your conversation.
And she heard... all of it...
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@sindela @dazai-gojo-kinnie @whats-humanity-lol @thewickedofrizz @phantasmia @ghostllyyz @yihona-san06 @Enaaneaen@sweet-almonds @Angel_🫶🏻@autumn-slaves @wondermilka @hh0pe @kugisakinobarades @witchbybirth @nineooooo @ssc7514 @Hana-patata @blue_spices @haikyuubiggestsimp @urstepmom69 @hueneve @chayunwoo@waosobii @nadzhaf @yoriichiswife @tiltraumadouspart @kirschtein123 @whoisobsessed @Asala @ashthemadwriter @remnirris @svm666 @voidsatoru @staygoldsquatchling02 @dunnowhy-m @nnasv @violetmatcha
If i forgot to tag anyone, i apologise.
A/N- The next chapter will be quite spicy ^v^
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luveline · 8 months
Note
more girl dad! hotch plsssss 😫😫😩😩😩
hotch navigates his small family ♡ mom!reader, 1k
Hotch speaks with a softness you could spin into silk. "That's okay, sweetheart. You fill this one out for me next." 
You peer through the small gap in the door. Hotch is sitting behind his desk with a case file open in front of him, though you assume any photographs are sequestered away, because in his lap sits a small girl, a toddler with dark, neat hair and a matching frown. 
"This one next," she says, picking up her crayon. 
"That one next. Good job, I'll be finished in no time with you helping me." 
"And we can have… uhm…" 
"Rusks?" 
"Yes, please." 
Hotch leans down to kiss his daughter's small head gently. "You're so polite. How about we leave all this grown up work and get you a rusk now?"
She turns on his leg to slouch into his stomach. Hotch picks her up, the sleeves of his shirt tightening at his biceps as he wraps them behind her back and under her butt, pushing the office chair aside with a careful leg. 
He sees you in the doorway and smiles. 
"Hi, Mr. Hotchner," you say. 
"Hi, mommy," he says, directing Jane's little body your way so she can see you where you're standing outside of his home office. "What are you doing?" 
"Just coming to check on you both. And I need help with something." 
You've stopped expecting him to pass you whatever kid it is he's carrying anymore. When Aaron is home, he's home, and he's dearly attached to his young daughter. He'd be attached to Jack if he weren't constantly out in the backyard looking for toads. He kisses your cheek, careful not to squish Jane between you. "What do you need help with?" 
"I can't get the lid off of the pickles and I promised Jack I'd get him the biggest one." 
"Why are our children so hungry?" he asks, putting his hand behind your shoulder as you walk down the stairs together. "Could it be because they both refuse to eat their breakfast, even when mommy says you'll regret it?" 
"Breakfast?" Jane asks, blinking owlishly. 
You smile at her. "No, sweetheart. Let's have rusks and milk, should we? With honey. Dad's gonna make it just the way you like it." 
Jack is back in the house tracking mud footprints over every inch of the kitchen. Only then does Aaron pass you Jane. She's light and easy to hold, she doesn't wriggle or gripe. Despite her resting frown, she's a happy girl who's content to be passed from person to person. "Daddy?" she asks. 
"Two seconds." Jack stands guiltily by the fridge, looking down at his shoes and then up at the ceiling, like looking away will get rid of the mess. "Jack, we've talked about this. You can play in the yard when it's wet if you take your shoes off before you come in."
"Well, I thought my shoes would be more dry," Jack says. 
"You can't leave water everywhere. What if Y/N slipped while she was carrying your sister? Then they'd both be hurt." 
"I guess," Jack says. 
"We're gonna have to mop it up. You can help me, buddy. You remember where we put the mop bucket?" 
You prop Jane on the island by the sink basin. She immediately puts her hand under the faucet, fascinated by the automatic water. "Wow, lots of fuss," you say. 
Aaron helps Jack take off his messy shoes and puts the mop bucket into the basin with a heap of praise for Jane's assistance, such a good helper. He lifts Jack up to squirt cleaner into the water. He's still laughing when he sets him down. 
"Rusks, dad?" Jane asks. 
Aaron almost barrels you over trying to hold her, lifting her back into his arms to kiss her soft cheek. "I am, I promise." He gives you a pleading look. "Honey–" 
"Yeah, okay. I never do the mopping, anyways. Me and Jack will learn together." 
You can hear him drowning Jane in love and sweetness as you and Jack get to work. "It's like this, babe, we push the mop head into the drain so we can soak up all the muddy water, then rinse and repeat." You drop your voice to a whisper, hands slack on the handle. "Don't worry, I'll do all the hard work." 
"Can we still have pickles?" Jack asks. 
"Of course we can. Dad's not mad, he just doesn't like the mess. Quicker we clean up, the sooner we can have a snack. You're not super hungry, are you?" 
"I'm starving." 
You put the mop back in the bucket, looking Jack up and down. He looks like he could use some proper warming after his time outside in the late September cold, pale cheeks rosy and his nose kissed with chill. 
"Aaron? Me and Jack have to pause the mopping, we're hungry." 
"Pretend I believe you and sit down. I'll make you something." 
"We really are hungry, dad." 
Jack takes your hand and pulls you toward the kitchen table. It's an organised chaos, your work things, Aaron's coat, Jack's science project. Underneath it lays a carpet of baby toys and Jane's washables; she plays under the table often to be close to her dad when he's working and you're cooking, or he's cooking and you're reading. 
You put him in a seat next to the highchair where Jane spoons warm rusk-mush into her mouth hurriedly. Aaron has secured a baby pink bib around her neck with a safety pin and filled her little sippy cup with watered down orange juice. She looks as happy as you've ever seen her as she misses her own mouth. 
You fill Aaron's seat as he vacates it to watch her. You and Aaron are good at filling each other's gaps, parenthood akin to the world's most loving game of musical chairs, and you're just as good at being together, you'd say —he squeezes your shoulders as he leans down. "For the record, you know how to mop. I just don't see why you should." 
"That's the right idea," you say happily, laughing as he kisses your cheek. 
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libraryofloveletters · 4 months
Text
The Art Of Wrapping
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Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Reader
Warnings: uncle lew lew, he's so bad at wrapping gifts that even Roscoe is judging, some playful teasing, too many gift to count and a nice family night in.
Word Count: 597
Author's Note: it's not a lewis blurb with roscoe or his niece and nephew soooo also uncle lew lew is so special to meeeee
--
As he does every year, the house is filled with shopping bags and Lewis struggles to wrap all of his gifts. This year, he has a secret weapon; you.
Per usual, Lewis has gone overboard with the gifts.
It was his love language, he was a big gift giver and when the holidays rolled around he went into overdrive. You and Lewis were friends long before you became a couple, which meant you were well aware of his holiday predicament.
Not a big shocker when you see the living room floor covered in shopping bags, wrapping paper, gift bags and tissue paper. Lewis was sitting in the middle, trying to wrap what looked to be a lego set in wrapping paper.
You smiled, setting your purse on the couch. "You okay?" You asked your boyfriend and he huffs, leaning back onto the couch as he looks at you.
"This is so difficult."
"I take it your assistant is not much help?" You sat next to him and Lewis looks over to see Roscoe fast asleep next to the fireplace, a few quiet snores coming from the pup.
"No help at all, knocked out as soon as I sat down."
You laughed, pulling the wrapping paper in front of you and resetting the lego box on the paper. "It should not be this hard to wrap a gift," Lewis mumbles, watching as you carefully cut the paper, tucking the edging and taping them.
"How can you drive a Formula One car but not be able to wrap a gift?" You glanced at him, wrapping the red ribbon around the box, tying it into a neat bow.
Lewis rolls his eyes playfully, writing his nephew's name on the top left corner of the paper. "Thank you." He sets the gift on the couch, reaching over for the 6 more bags that were waiting.
"We're gonna be here a while, aren't we?" You look over at him, Lewis takes the gifts out of the shopping bags one by one. "Yeah, we are."
You and Lewis sit there for nearly 2 hours wrapping gifts in wrapping papers, bags, boxes and everything in between. You'd wrap and Lewis would hand you the tape and ribbons and write the names on the boxes and bags.
At some point, the couch was full and you two had finished the final present. Half of it would be dropped off to his sister's place for the kids and the rest would be shared as the days to Christmas went on.
"Do you think it's too late to drop them off now?" He asks, and you shrug. "Don't the kids have school in the morning?"
"Yeah but it's only 7:30, they should be up."
It's like you could read his mind, "I'll get Roscoe, put the bags in the car."
The two of you load yourselves into the car, Roscoe in the backseat and all the bags in the trunk before Lewis drives the two of you over to your sister's place. The kids were still wide awake when you and Lewis arrived while Roscoe made himself comfortable on his auntie's couch, while you two brought in the numerous bags that you had tried to fit into the trunk.
You watch the kids unwrap their presents, your hours of hard work scattered across the living room floor in the span of 15 minutes. The kids hugged both you and their uncle, thanking you for the gifts as they started to sort through their stuff.
"You really need to learn how to wrap presents," you whispered to your boyfriend, leaning into his side as you two watched Roscoe play with the kids and the wrapping paper on the floor.
Lewis laughs, kissing your head. "Next year."
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