#Christian wanted to stop even before getting a kiss‚ but now he's married to her!

[longagoitwastuesday]

I'm loving how, being stagings of the play and not reinterpretations, many productions are able to add some characteristic creative twist to it that adds or enhances something in particular

[impeakcharacterdesign]

Just the Tip

— Thomas Hewitt x Fem!Reader —

MDNI!!!

Summary: It’s the 1960s and Luda Mae frowns upon premarital sex like any good Christian woman. You and Tommy are young, hot, and in love but the only problem is that Tommy was raised to wait until marriage and never lets you two go any further than kissing and some groping.

But the devil lives in the hot Texan sun and even God takes a break from the summer heat.

Notes: this is super short, just pure smut, self indulgent I’m obsessed with big boy Tommy 😭😭😭 i swear I’m working on part 2 of my sister Sinclair fic but Tommy has me in a choke hold and I needed an outlet.

No TW that I can think of other than bad smut and maybe ??? Coercion??? Cause Tommy wants to be a good boy and stop before y’all go too far but you flash him and then he’s absolutely 100% in. A bit of religious stuff, period typical sexism but vaguely. Let me know if I should add anything else and I’ll get right on it. Reader isn’t ever referred to using “she/her” pronouns but is described as having breasts and does have female genitalia so I tagged it fem reader to be safe

Enjoy!!!

The early morning sun burned, chasing away what little cool air remained of the night before. While the barn shaded you from the unforgiving sun and hid you from disapproving eyes — or lecherous in the case of the older men of the family — it also trapped in the heat your two bodies gave off.

Thomas pressed his open mouth to your own, tongue swiping over your teeth eager to taste you. Your hands gripped his dark hair, ruining any half-effort attempt he had made earlier in the day to smooth down his unruly hair. He held you in his arms, body pressed tightly against him in an attempt to get as close as possible, his large frame hiding you even further from prying eyes than the shadowed corners of the old barn. The kiss was deep and hungry and served as a brief respite from Luda Maes ever watching eyes. While she had been fine with you living with the family before you and Tommy were married, she forbade you from sharing a room or being intimate, a rule she absolutely refused to budge on and one that Uncle Charlie took a strange glee in ribbing you about. But much like the Texan heat, the heated looks you gave each other were unavoidable and only grew hotter as the summer days went on. Luda Mae wanted to wait until the following spring to make your union official but at the rate the town was drying up, there wouldn't even be a priest to officiate the ceremony, much less any guest to attend. You highly doubted anyone outside of the family would want to witness your union anyway but still, Luda Mae didn't want the few who would to get wise and start counting months.

These stolen moments in the barn were as good as you could get — and by god were they good.

Tommy’s large hands groped at your breasts, pawing roughy at your nipples through the worn fabric of your old dress. It wasn’t long before you found yourself in the familiar position of being sprawled out on the barn floor, coarse hay a discomfort you had long learned to endure for the sake of pleasure.

You desperately thrust your sex up onto his growing bulge, whining when he groaned and pinned your hips with his own, preventing you from getting your desired stimulation. “Please Tommy,” you beg, lips separating, “We don’t have to do too much, I just wanna touch you.” You press open-mouthed kisses to his neck, pulling softly at the flesh with your teeth and tongue dragging across the bites to taste the salt on his skin. Your hands eagerly worked to untuck his faded green shirt and wrap around him, roaming the vast expanse of his back. His whole body shuddered in your arms, an attempt to hold back from eating you whole.

You know Thomas will put an end to your romp soon, the tense lines of his shoulders and the way he shuts his eyes a sign that he's reaching his limit, that if you two don't stop now you won't be able to stop — but that’s exactly what you want.

You're tired of holding back, of this constant edging you have to endure when you’re in his presence and it gets harder every day. Just yesterday afternoon, Uncle Charlie sprayed Tommy with the hose, telling him that he was filthy and needed to get out of those clothes before he went inside. Watching as he undressed by the back door so that you could put his clothes on the line to dry had nearly given you a heatstroke — and if Charlie’s leering grin was any clue, you swear he did it on purpose in an attempt to rile you up. You ran off before you sinned right there in the yard, the memory of Thomas's shirt clinging to his arms, his chest glistening with water had kept you company well into the night.

So before Tommy puts a stop to your roll in the hay you make your move. You lift your dress up past your breast and expose yourself to him, you can see his breath stutter in his chest, this was quickly becoming the farthest you two had ever gone.

“Just watch me, Tommy, watch me,” you say breathlessly.

And he does, he sits on his haunches like a predator, his engorged cock straining against his pants and imagining just a taste has your tongue darting out to wet your lips, his gaze fixated on the movement.

Sliding your panties off your legs, your fingers dip briefly into your wet hole, gathering slick to rub onto your clit. At the very first touch, you let out a shuddering breath and you watch as his shoulders heave.

You begin rubbing your clit at an intense pace already turned on from the earlier heavy petting, not once breaking eye contact with Thomas as you do. With each moan you muffle you see his eyes grow darker with desire breathing with his mouth open as though he could taste your scent in the air. When he finally lets his cock spring free you let out your loudest moan yet. It’s better than you ever thought. His cock is thick and heavy, drooping slightly under its own weight but still undeniably firm. It curves slightly and you imagine that if it was inside you it would scrape against your walls in a way you've never been able to do with just your fingers.

Thomas grips his cock firmly and gives it a few tugs, eyes alternating between hungrily drinking in the sight of your blissed-out expression and your dripping pussy. You buck your hips, desperate to press your clit against your fingers and Thomas jerks his length even faster, rubbing his tip and spreading his precum on his hand.

God, you wished it was you that was touching him.

Thomas settles onto his knees and after a brief hesitation begins to shuffle closer to you. The sight of him crawling to you on his knees with his dripping length in hand made your pussy clench around nothing and you let out a whimper. You remove your fingers from your clit, feeling the heat radiating from his cock as he settles on top of you, legs spreading around his waist, your hips slightly raised and resting on his thighs.

The tip hesitantly pressed against your clit and your moan fills the small space before you can suppress it. This was better than you were hoping and it felt as though you were pressing against the boundaries the lord had set for you. Tommy’s eyes find yours looking for reassurance, asking without words, “Do you think this is okay?”

You find enough comprehension in your lust-addled brain to come up with a coherent answer, “It should be fine, I think,” you stammer out, “I mean, it’s not like — not like you’re putting it in so, it should be fine.”

You’re not overly familiar with the word of God outside of Sunday services and Luda Mae’s lectures, both of which you were forced to attend and spent tuning out in favor of watching the sweat build on Tommy’s brow while he worked through the window.

You think that if God could feel the weight of Thomas like you did, feel the heat like you could, you think he’d forgive the sin of your act.

It seems like that was all the reassurance that Thomas needed because no sooner than the words fumbled their way out of your mouth that he begins to drag the length of his cock against your slit.

God, if this is what hell was supposed to be like, burning and full of decadence, then perhaps you didn’t mind being a sinner.

The way he ruts against you is euphoric. Heavy breaths escape you both and you can’t help the words that spill from your lips.

“God, Tommy, I wish you would put it inside me,” you whine out “‘wanna feel your fat cock in my pussy, wanna get filled,” you might as well be begging at this point, and Tommy's increases his pace to the point that you think he wants the same thing, that he’s desperate to thrust into you rather than against you and —

And then the tip of his cock catches on your entrance and you both stop breathing.

“Maybe — Maybe it doesn’t count.” You stammer out, “It didn’t go in and it’s just the tip, and I don’t think that the tip counts” With the slightest twitch of his hips the tip of his cock has slipped inside.

"It's - it's just the tip it's fine” Your words sound empty even to you but the reassurance is all Tommy needs to push forward and let the head of his cock slide into your welcoming heat

His soul nearly leaves his body when he feels your raw pussy on the head of his cock. He jerks his length furiously and your fingers begin to move against your clit again, eager to meet your high with Thomas.

But it’s not enough. He was right there, right there just one push of his hips he’d be right where you needed him

“Please Tommy” Canting your hips slightly so the tip begins to dig deeper into you, you begin to plead once more, “wanna feel you fill me up, wanna remember the shape of your cock please”

Thomas feels years of control break at your words and with one swing of his hips, he bottoms out instantly. You feel like you've been punched in the gut as the air rushes out of you and you let out a sound like a wounded animal. Tommy stays still deep inside you, shaking and heaving, absolutely drunk on the feeling of your soaked walls clenching vigorously around his length.

You feel full in a way you've never thought possible. His length throbs, its girth stretching you in a way that burns.

When he finally starts thrusting, you’re not ready. He’s like a man possessed, solely focused on the feel of you around him, your skin pressed against his, his blood pounding in his ears.

“Wait— Tommy, ah, slow — slow down, oh god!” You can’t hold back your moans and he can’t stop, both fully engrossed in the feel of each other with no control over your own lust. Thomas crashes his lips onto yours in a halfhearted attempt to keep down your moans, it’s sloppy, clashing teeth and drooling tongues, spit escaping your lips, unlike any you’ve shared before.

This is completely different from what you’ve imagined your first time together would be like. It’s not your wedding night, you're laying on the dirty barn floor and there’s absolutely nothing gentle about the way Tommy is ravaging you. Your pussy is sopping wet and with every thrust, it lets out an embarrassing squelch, your juices and Tommy’s pre-cum leak down your ass and make a sticky mess in his dark pubes.

He doesn’t stop even as your walls spasm around him, cumming on his cock and digging your nails into his strong back. He works you through your orgasm even as your mouth clumsily forms the words to beg for him to slow down or to give you a moment. It’s too much, the sensations completely overloading your brain and all you can do is hold on tightly to him, lost in the ecstasy of your release.

Thomas lets out a deep, guttural groan as he cums, hips stuttering as he bullies his fat cock into the deepest part of your sex, filling you to the brim and your vision goes white.

Boneless, neither one of you makes a move to separate from the other, so thoroughly satisfied and content to lie where you are holding each other, Thomas’s softening cocking slipping out of you and spilling his release onto the ground.

His weight on you is comforting, you gently press kisses to his face and bask in the way his heavy breaths caress your sweaty skin.

“I love you.” You whisper into the shell of his ear and he squeezes you against him, repeating the words in his garbled voice the best he could. Your love is just for the two of you, no one else had a place in your world, no one else had the right to peak in on your affection or gawk at your differences.

This moment in time was just for the two of you.

“Thomas! Where the hell are ya, boy!”

Well, until Uncle Charlie’s voice brought you back down to reality.

[adventuringblind]

Hear me out father Toto, daughter gets very angry over a decision he made without her permission and she gets revenge by asking max (secret boyfriend) to kiss her in front of him when he won the race (maybe they hug and max makes direct eye contact with Toto when he kissed her neck) plus angry father Toto is funny 🙃 plus your writing is amazing ❤️

Revenge

Max Verstappen x Reader

Genre: idk angst? Fluff? Crack?

Summary: Toto tries to set his daughter up in an arranged marriage… it doesn’t go according to plan.

Warnings: angry Toto, kissing, arranged marriage, Max is all to happy to make out with her in public

Notes: I had way to much fun with this.

Masterlist

“You what?!” She screams. “You can’t just tell someone I’ll marry them! Have you considered my feeling in all of this.” She unceremoniously rakes a hand through her hair.

Toto simply leans back in his chair. “We need this-“

“No, you need this! Not me!”

She storms out of her fathers office. She can hear him hitting his hand on the desk as she goes. Something passes through her mind that maybe breaking his hand would get him to treat the furniture better.

She storms off past everyone. Nobody stops her as she goes. Her destination? The Redbull garage to see Max, her current boyfriend. The one she’s been with for a couple of years now.

She’s angry and determined to get back at her father for even suggesting such a thing. She slips into Christian's office and shuts the door behind her. He looks startled, but definitely not surprised.

"Finally decide to switch teams?"

She turns her head and runs a frantic hand through her hair. "Yeah... I need to ask a favor of you and Max."

"I'm hoping it's something petty because you look like you're upset, and I love making Toto angry."

~

The next race weekend goes according to plan. The plan being that Max wins. Which he had once again done flawlessly like so much of the 2023 season.

Christian, as best as he can manage, sneaks her and himself up in front of the Redbull team so Max has a clear line of sight. The Dutch had been the one to come up with this plan, and Christian wanted to be as petty as possible.

Ger original plan was just to hard launch her relationship with Max. Then the Dutch told her this was much better and would definitely get the point across. Which she can't help but agree with.

Max parks the car in the number one spot, then goes and gets weighed, taking his helmet off as he goes. Everyone eyes him skeptically because this was not his order of doing things. Max always, without fail, greeted the team first.

Her and Christian make it to the front, and She makes sure Max can see her. Something in her is giddy and blushing. Like she's a schoolgirl admitting she has a crush.

Max makes a beeline for her. Helmet off. Hair disheveled, cheeks flushed from the heat of the race. It's very attractive. Enough so to make her forget why she's even doing this in the first place.

There is no hesitation. Only love and adoration in his eyes as he approaches. All smiles and love. He cups her cheeks and crashes their lips together.

It's warm and wet and so confidence filled. Like he's claiming her for the world to see. And it's definitely longer then it needs to be.

They get questions about it afterward. That's what the entirety of the press conference is. She gets stopped by far too many reporters.

She runs into the Mercedes hospitality to grab her things before she leaves with Max. Toto stands there waiting for her. He's seething; red in anger. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"Kissed my boyfriend of two years?"

"You've cost me a major sponsor!"

"And that sounds like a you problem."

Max jogs into the entrance and looks between the two having a stare off. "Sorry about that, Mr. Wolff. Didn't want you marrying off the love of my life."

Toto slams his hand on the table so hard that it knocks the piece of furniture over. He reals backward and clutches his hand against his chest.

"Serves you right for abusing the furniture!" She slides past Toto and grabs her things before taking Max's hand in her own. "Now if you'll excuse me, I will be going home with Max."

Her and Max spare one last glance at Toto, burning the image of him raging over their partnership before leaving. Maybe being petty is fun sometimes.

[lavenderlitanies]

it is so so shitty not being out to my family but still living with them day in and day out. I love my parents and siblings but there’s this whole entire side to me that gets so pushed down and shoved away and I stay careful with what I say and do just to not be out of the closet. It’s hard to reckon my love and devotion to my family while also knowing full well they would hate me if they ever knew I was queer. I can go days and weeks without having any validation for my identity and I just do what I’m told and what I’m expected while hearing constantly that I should be married by now and have I met any nice christian Ukrainian men lately? And hearing that I should be going to church and that you know I prayed to god for a husband and he gave me one and you should put yourself out there and get an Instagram and start posting pictures with bible verses and I just. I choke it all down and smile and nod. And I just want to scream and cry and my head never stops hurting. I don’t know what the future holds or what I’m even going to do. This pressure might kill me and I just need to say I’m gay. I’m gay im gay im queer I love women I love women so much I feel my entire body come alive when my crush touches my arm or looks at me too long with her big brown eyes. I want to marry a woman and carry her in a bridal dress and get a dog and a cat and maybe chickens with her. I want to learn her cultural foods and cook them for her. I want to bake my own traditional foods that mama taught me and see how her eyes light up when she tries it. I want to hold her hand when we walk in the park and I want to make her tea when we settle for the evening. I want to kiss her a million times and fuck her with every burning passion I have. I want to learn her body and love her so completely and fully that no one can claim that we weren’t made for each other. I’m gay im gay im gay. I just need to say it sometimes before I get consumed in this constant self supervision around the people who are supposed to love me unconditionally. I’m just so tired

[starlingsrps]

your arms and permission to fall.

when elliot finally gets down to london to see nell, it’s with sidney in tow. he can see her for what feels like five minutes before a meeting with the RAF with sid, which means it’s mostly about planes and he’s here to be the personality. he finds the RAF to be annoying as hell to but he’s better at hiding it than sid. hatcher appoints sid to be elliot’s chaperone in his absence and reminds him to be a good christian boy. once they’re on the train, sid assures him that he doesn’t give a fuck what he does as long as he doesn’t have to see it.

nell meets them at the hotel, looking pretty and blessedly normal. she doesn’t work until tonight and seeing her in civvies makes this all feel almost more like an actual date and not a stolen chunk of time.

“at ease, captain dumbass,” sid mutters, slapping him on back before booming nell’s name and hugging her tight. she catches elliot’s eye over his shoulder and smiles, stepping easily into his arms when sid releases her. there, now it all feels right again.

“hi,” she says, beaming up at him.

he leans down to kiss her, a polite one that would pass inspection by polite church ladies. “hi.”

sid clears his throat. “should i leave? because i feel like i’m interrupting just by existing.”

the three of them get lunch together and when they’re finished, sid reminds him of their meeting in two hours and says he’ll keep himself entertained in the meantime. elliot is glad for it - he hadn’t meant the invitation to join them for a walk in hyde park in the slightest and if he doesn’t get some time alone with his girlfriend soon, he’s going to lose it.

she has him back against a tree in what feels like five minutes and he knows that they were barely together before she left but god he’s missed kissing her. they really don’t have anywhere to go. her dorm is the opposite of private and he’d been an idiot and taken a double at the serviceman’s hotel. he’s stuck with some random naval pilot on his way to italy and he seems perfectly decent but right now, he’s elliot’s greatest enemy. that he might not even be there right now strikes him but it still wouldn’t be enough. he wants time and that’s not something they have in spades right now. he’ll need days to get her out of of his system, not an hour.

the tree is fine. for now. they keep kissing, her fingers tugging his tie loose enough to kiss his throat. when he groans, she looks up at him through lowered lashes, expression pleased. he wants her hands on him badly, forces himself to settle with her exploring over his uniform instead. she’s more confident than he imagined and damn if he doesn’t like it.

he turns them, pinning her back against the tree now. she moans when he kisses her neck, fingers twisting in his hair. ��elliot,” she gasps when his teeth graze, sucking gently to soothe it. “oh god, do that again.”

this is akin to self imposed torture but he’s dying to know what her skin feels like. he tugs her blouse loose from her skirt and slips his hands under with a mumbled apology against her neck for them being cold. her skin is as soft and warm as pictured, the curve of her waist fits right into his hands. he slides his hand under her bra to cup her breast and she makes a little sound in the back of her throat that he drains what blood is left in his head to his dick.

her hands drop to his belt, the backs of her her fingers grazing. sense grabs him by the throat and no, no not here. he already knows he wants to marry her. their first time can’t be against a fucking tree, no matter how good she feels. he wants her so badly that he’s not sure he’ll recover from stopping but no, it needs to be right. he wants to take his time and learn what she likes and how she tastes, catalog the sounds she makes. use a condom, not risk indecent exposure or body parts freezing off because it’s fucking february and they’re in a park.

“hold on, hold on.” he catches her hands by the wrists and tears his mouth away from hers. “babe, we’ve gotta stop.”

she flushes and hides her face against his chest. she’s breathing as hard as he is, shaking a little and all he feels is regret. after a few minutes, she seems to have calmed a bit which is more than he can say for himself. he flies a literal tin can into hostile fire for a living and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this on edge. her color is still high and she looks gloriously, beautifully mussed.

“you okay?” she shimmies his tie back into place and he shudders a little. he’s still hard and wonders if he should just go throw himself into the serpentine to recalibrate. it’s the only way he can think of to calm down, even if it means risking water borne illness.

“oh yeah, once the blood goes back to my brain.” she laughs and kisses him, not helping his case at all when her tongue slips against his. he kisses her back, just for another second, before planting his hands firmly on her hips and taking a step back. “okay, hands to yourself eleanor.”

she cocks her head at him, that glint back. “you saying my name like that doesn’t help.”

“don’t start up again,” he says.

she tucks her blouse back in and buttons her coat again, immediately looking far more respectable than he feels. “or what?”

“you’re terrible. i have a meeting.”

she laughs.

“fate of the free world and all that and you’re laughing. you know what they say about americans, right? i can’t show up like this.”

she stretches up to kiss him, a light teasing brush of her lips. “that feels like a you problem.”

[raenavolante]

Some Antfrost facts:

Starting simple:

-he has a twin. Yes. (Ant is younger and shorter)

-his birthday is in August, not November

Okay. Now that that’s out of the way:

-dream taught him minecraft parkour years ago

-he enjoys hiking

-his dad and brother(craftclan) watch his mcc pov live

-he and craft, as toddlers, tried to shove a cat down a laundry shute

-he prefers online classes to in person, but also says he ‘doesn’t have to do anything’ during in person classes

-he tends to leave things in his office for long periods of time (this is about the hot sauce, yes)

-velvet was his first crush, and subsequently his first boyfriend

-he grew up Christian

-he played like… every sport as a child

-he started developing allergies around 8-10 years old

-he wasn’t much of a dog person until he met velvet

-when he’s drunk he’s either very nsfw or extremely romantic (wedding talk vs simping for league characters)

-he moved around a lot as a young kid, he lived in Maine for a few years before moving to Virginia and then eventually California last year

-he’s very close with his mother

-he loves velvets parents and can’t wait for them to be his official in-laws

-on top of his gluten and lactose allergies, he also has a mild peanut allergy

-speaking of allergies, he’s never been tested for celiac, but his doctor told him to live like he does due to the severity

-he would love to try Taco Bell because of how passionate velvet is about it

-his cat Floof used to have a sister

-Frannie is his favourite over Finley

-he lurks in quackity’s chat fairly often despite not speaking Spanish

-he has 2 monitors and wants a third but hasn’t gotten around to it yet

-he’s terrible at remembering ages. He couldn’t even remember his own

-apparently the only way to tell him and craft apart as kids was his mole on his lip

-he’s embarrassed to admit he and velvet technically e-dated for three months before becoming long distance

-he is not, in fact, a furry [allegedly]

-he would prefer a simple gold ring to a fancy one

-also he would like a smaller wedding

-and to propose to velvet after velvet proposes to him

-he’s in no rush to get married but will say yes no matter what

-he’s talked a lot about wedding stuff if you couldn’t tell

-promised he would kiss Scott Smajor. Unless something happened at twitchcon, he has not done so yet

-velvet has changed his political views a lot, for the better (his words)

-he shoved some stuffed animals in a bag 10 years ago. This bag remains unopened and sits in the background of his streams.

-his facecam is a few pixels too far left to fit fully in frame. I hate this.

-he would wear one of gumis outfits if given the chance

-he doesn’t understand why people care so much about height (hes 5”7)

-he recognizes most regular chatters by name and talks to us in his discord

-he’s expressed discomfort with people shipping him with people other than red, but when it comes to bbh x ant he is extremely vocal about finding it weird. (Valid)

-one of his friends pushed him to confess to velvet

-he did in fact make the first move in their relationship

-his response to “you make the same face in every photo” is “yeah, I’ve been told.”

-Frannie[the dog] shoves him to the edge of the bed

-he absentmindedly plays with velvets hair a lot

-thinks velvet is ‘hot as fuck’ with a beard

-he used to go to the gym regularly before the pandemic

-he’s read fanfic about him and velvet (hey mello)

-his grandma is German, and her accent comes out when she yells

-that fact came up when telling the story of nanafrost walking in on her grandson and his ‘bestie’ sharing a bed

-he uses pet names more than velvets actual name irl

-they both use ‘cutie’ because velvet didn’t like ‘babe’

There’s more I could add but. I’ll stop for now. Friends feel free to add more ant facts

[harrysmimi]

A Little Surprise

Synopsis: One where Harry surprises his love with tickets to concert of her favourite artist.

Professor!YN x Current Era!Harry

Ps. Not proofread also.

More of my work

Now YN's always been a sucker for romance. Well, she grew up watching romantic Bollywood movies.

But with Harry it was like she was living the hopeless romantic life she always wanted to live. And let's be honest Harry is as much of a hopeless romantic as her if not more.

He's send her random flowers when he's on tour or away from home, bring a bar or two of her favourite chocolates when he'd go over to hers, of course make love to her in all away he can think of whether it's sexual or not.

Both of them had very different love languages they used, Harry preferred to give gifts to her, take her out to eat or on last minute trips, whilst YN tried her best to make his life easy by cooking for him, or just leave little notes for him everywhere to find. She was very creative in her own way but she is more of an introvert than him to plan very extravagant things like he does. She doesn't mind stepping out of her comfort zone for him though.

Now Harry is away somewhere in Europe finishing up his last tour before his small break as he's getting married soon whilst YN is in London, busy as hell as it was end of the semester and all of her students have suddenly decided to show up and submit their assignments and projects. Plus she had a few wedding plans to look after as Harry is not home. Plus her dress fitting was getting on her nerve.

It was Harry who had convinced her that she should go to Phillipa Lepley to get a couture dress made for the Christian ceremony of their wedding (her brothers had told her that they'd be paying for the outfit she'd be wearing during her cultural ceremony as for custom and to help their sister), she had to go in every week to get het another mock up fitted to her size. That one thing Harry had not been nosy about and pay gor it all himself, it took everything in him to not contact Phillipa and get on to pay for the rest of the dress. He had to shut up and do his own things he had taken up responsibility for, plus YN was a little frustrated with the dress.

The thing is, YN isn't the one to stay in one size nor did she tried to. It was difficult for her to either stay as she is or loose weight to what was last month. But it's not something she was worried about it, constant visits to the store, long train rides were making her more and more tired and she needed a small break which she couldn't do on weekends. The dress making team was very, very, very patient with YN though.

YN was getting ready for her yet another fitting appointment when Harry had face timed her. It was just when she was making breakfast in hurry as she had pressed snooze on her alarm way too many times. Harry was coming home by night anyway but he wanted to his lovie.

"Hey, darling I need you to calm down okay?" Harry said watching her go crazy to find honey to put on her pancakes. She did found it but stopped.

"I should not eat this." She said and Harry k ew exactly why.

"No, come on eat up your breakfast I don't want you getting sick okay?" He warned her but lovingly.

"I-"

"Doesn't matter YN, you can't stop eating for a wedding dress!" He interrupted her.

"Okay," she agreed and sat down by the coffee table propping her phone against a pile of her doctorate books.

"I'm sorry for that," Harry said, "you just don't have to stop eating and put yourself through misery, okay? If you say so we can get married in our PJs, I'm down for that."

She chuckled, "yeah, but no the dress is already coming together."

"And how's the other one coming together?"

"Jasmine said it's all done and made, a few fitting arrangements can be made a week or two before." YN shared shoving her face with pancakes.

"That sounds good, can't wait to see you in those." He gave her a kiss through the phone.

YN wasn't allowed to talk about his outfits though, not him, nor even to Harry Lambert who was obviously helping him. She knows her ways with words - which used only when needed - Harry knows that but Lambert doesn't so he had banned her from talking to him for a while. He wanted it to be a complete surprise as well.

"I've got to leave now so I can come back home. See you tonight love." He gave a wave. Just to be funny he pulled up the neck hem of his shirt to his ears.

"Is that my shirt?" YN asked.

"Is it?" He looked down, "oh yeah, it is." He huffed casually.

"No wonder I couldn't find it!" Ahe shook her head.

"Well you steal my clothes all the time." He pointed at the Packers hoodie she was wearing even though she had zero knowledge about American football. She wore it because it smelled like him and he left it at hers before he left for tour.

"You left it here, now it's mine." She protectively hugged the piece of clothing on her body making him laugh.

"Now I really gotta go baby, I'll see you tonight yeah?"

"Yeah, I love you." She picked up her phone from the coffee table.

"I love love more." And he hung up when he heard Jeff yelling at him as they were getting late before saying, "buh-bye baby!" And give her another kiss through the phone.

He can't really keep to himself when he's with her, especially in a private setting. He's obsessed!

......................................................................

Like expected, YN had a very long day, plus she was feeling a bit sick and she missed Harry as he's been away for a month now. Ordered take out when she got back home as he's going to there any minute.

Dorothea was sitting by the door as if she can already sense he is going to come over tonight and she gets to get his attention and cuddles. YN wasn't very keen on the fact that her boyfriend (now fiancé) had stolen her cat but now she's fine with it.

YN heard a little thump as Dorothea jumped down of her cat tree to welcome her dad. She let the take out boxes be on the counter as she walked out too, following her fur daughter.

"Oh hello love," Harry cooed seeing the cat rub herself against his legs and purring. He closed the door making sure she doesn't run away not that she have, just to be safe.

"Hey baby!" Harry crooned in contained to see his love in person finally after a month and a week. "I missed you so much!"

His bags made thuds as they were dropped on the floor so he can huddle his love with kisses and hugs and cuddles. YN hugged him back.

"I missed you too," she mumbled burying her face into his chest, taking in familiar scent of him.

"How did the fitting go today love?" He asked, still holding onto her and pressing casual yet loving kisses on her head caressing her hair gently.

"They had to up the size more today." YN sighed pulling away from the hug so she can get to kiss him properly. Harry gladly dipped his head down to press a longing kiss on her mouth.

"It's okay, it's their job." He assured her, "it's their job to make your day even more special with that piece of garment. Don't worry about it, yeah?"

"Hmm." She nodded, "you can go change I ordered take out from your favourite place."

"Oh, I can smell it already." He smiled.

Dorothea was already chomping away her food when Harry was done taking a shower and changing into her PJs. YN had already brought out the take out.

"You alright, you look very tired baby." Harry sat next to her.

"Yeah, I'm a little bit tired. But I'm fine." She shared.

"You sure, do you want to go see a Doctor or something? You look very drained out darling." He ranted worriedly.

"I just need to sleep, I'll be fine." She lean forward to plant a small kiss on his cheek.

"Okay if you say so," he sighed knowing there is no winning with her, "but I've got a tiny surprise for you."

"What?" She looked caught off guard. He picked up his phone and pulled up something.

"This," he handed her the phone.

"Two tickets to Billie Eilish!" She squealed reading from the digital tickets.

"Yeah, ow—" Harry was tackled to the ground with a bear hug, mumbling how much she loves him. "Awh I love you too baby!"

"All tickets were sold out, how did you get those?" She asked.

"I've got my ways," he smirked his classic lopsided smile.

"Ouch, ouch, ouch," YN winced in pain as she quickly got up from him, holding onto her stomach.

"What happened love, you alright?" Harry asked, frantic.

"I don't know must have pulled a muscle or something," she chuckled in pain, "it's good now."

Harry let out a sigh, "you fucking scared me!"

"Sorry," she said in a sing-sang voice leaning forward with a puppy face. Taking the advantage Harry moved forward to kiss her, slotting their lips together he levered her back until she was flushed against the sofa. With his hands on her hips he swiftly had her made sit on the sofa.

"What, what you doing?" YN asked pulling away from the kiss.

"I don't know where this leads yet," he shrugged. "Where do you want it go?"

"Why don't we move to our bed and dinner can wait," she suggested.

"Mmm, dinner can wait," with that he picked her up to figure out where this little kiss leads.

......................................................................

Now Harry was sleeping like a baby when he was woken up hearing his fiancé throwing up in the bathroom. He rushed in there to find her humped over the toilet emptying everything she ate last night out.

"Hey, hey it's okay," he pulled her hair in a ponytail as he rubbed her back in soothing strokes. "You good now?"

"Hmm," she nodded pulling herself together.

"What got you sick? Did you eat anything?" He asked getting out the tissue box from one of the cabinets.

"I don't know," she shook her head taking a few tissues from the box to wipe her mouth. "I'm exhausted!"

"I know baby," be cooed, "it's okay, I'll get you some water yeah?"

"Mhmm." She nodded again.

Harry mind was racing as he padded out to kitchen, filled a glass of water and padded back to where YN was now brushing her teeth. He'd never seen her this sick. Plus she have a very healthy life style, she sleeps well, eats well, never drinks or hardly, even rarely eat out. There is no way that the last night's take out has something to do with her throwing up as that restaurant is well reputed, though one can never be more cautious. He waited patiently for her to be done.

"How long have you been sick love?" He asked, taking notes of her exhausted features and sunken eyes.

"Past three days maybe." She mumbled into her towel patting her face dry. He handed her the glass of water he got her, "thank you."

"Did you eat out or something? We can go to doctor." He suggested, watched her gulp down water.

"I didn't eat out, and I'm fine I promise." She assured him.

Harry actually forced her to be seated and relax with a cup of tea whilst he made something for breakfast, even gave Dorothea her food. She did looked very exhausted sitting there as the cat brought her paper ball to her to play throw.

What is to come next is a little (or not you can judge) TMI; just before he flight for tour he wanted to have a quickie. They had no protection to use but he promised to pull out, which was boo worthy of him if she actually is pregnant. But she was the one who initiated the second round which defeated the purpose of a quickie. So they're both even on this.

Now the real exam was going to be to suggest her to rake a test. He took the breakfast out and sat down next to her.

"Do you maybe wanna take a pregnancy test?" He asked once they were done with breakfast, very hesitantly scared thinking all of the possibilities she might take it. He couldn't think of any alternatives to ask that question.

"Oh," was her reaction. If this was a pregnancy scare it would be the first. "Yeah, okay." She nodded and went to look for tests in the cabinets but couldn't find any, and one she found was expired.

"You want me to go get one?"

"Yes please," she nodded, "just realised haven't got my period last month either."

"Okay, okay don't stress. I'll be back in ten yeah?" He pressed a kiss on her forehead.

He quickly grabbed his phone and car keys before he headed out. He also made sure to quickly grab some of her favourite snacks and chocolates as she didn't eat much for breakfast. No matter if she is pregnant or not he's going to make sure she's well fed and healthy.

He'd gotten back home earlier than he told her. Bumped into few of YN's neighbours on the way up who seemed to be University students.

Now Harry knows when YN goes silent she is in deep thoughts, whether she is angry, upset or sad or when something is bothering her, which he thinks is the case this time. He gave her all the space she needs when he handed her the tests he got.

YN in the bathroom. Lord help her having to process the feelings she was going through. It was going to create huge scene, at least in her family. She's not married, yes she is engaged, she doesn't live in her husband's house yet. And many more old fashioned comments which were destined to cone her way for sure. She took the tesr and left it on the counter to go just hug and cry to her Harry about all this.

She needed to get it out somehow. For sure she knows he'll be there with her no matter what, she jist felt the need to cry now.

"Harry?" She walked out to find him in kitchen.

"Hey, what does it say?" He asked.

"I don't know, I just kept it there." She took two careful steps closer to him, enough so she can snake her arms around his middle and bury her face in his chest.

"Hey it's alright, I'm here with you," he wrapped her in a warm embrace, he caressed her hair gently knowing that sooths her. "What's up, darling?"

"I don't know Harry, it's just, it's just... I don't know." She sighed, "I have a feeling it is going to turn out to be positive."

"Hmm, do you not want it to be?" He asked knowing her answer very well but she has the will and right to change her mind even though they have talked about this a million times.

Even in the earlier time of their relationship together, especially when they were both just friends for a long time, she'd talked about wanting to have kids after she is married. Apparently it would cause a big ruckus in her life if she have a baby befire she is married. And she was in no rush that time. But she's been talking about it especially since they've got engaged, how she feels ready to have a family if he is. Though she knows Harry's work won't allow that for a little while, but it doesn't hurt to dream, does it.

"I want it to be," she got defensive.

"Why you seem so scared then?" He pulled away enough to be able to take a look at her.

"You know, plus do you really want this if this is really happening?" She counter asked a question.

"It is your decision my love, it's your body if you want to keep this pregnancy then sure we can — we don't know yet but it's good to talk about it — if you don't want it right now, or if you don't feel like we don't have to." He explained his thoughts, "but I'd want a little one keeping us up, pooping and peeing and throwing up on me. That sounds exhaustingly amazing!"

"You want to go look at the test now?" She suggested.

"Mhmm," he nodded and guided her to the bathroom. Feeling bold he picked up the test with the digital screen thingy himself just to be hit like a bus. "It's positive!"

"This one is too," she picked up another one.

"Oh my god!" He gasped as realisation hit him. "You're pregnant, baby!"

"Yeah!" She nodded looking at him awe. His eyes were teary as he looked at the other test to be sure himself.

"Wait," he stopped his celebration for a moment, "do you want it?"

"I told you, yeah!" She said.

"We're having a baby!" He screamed, pulling her in a bear hug.

YN chuckled, "but what about your work?" This made him pull away enough so he can talk to her.

"We can settle down now, I'm thirty-two now — woah that feels old! — I've got couple of movies coming up but that's about it, I'm done with the tour. Can take it easy now and focus more on my... Home." He layed out his improvised plan in front of her. Staring at her with loveful doe eyes as he tucked her loose hair behind her ear. "We can rent another flat near your Uni until we find a good home in a secured neighbourhood. I will take care of the baby when you have your exams coming up, take them out on little date. It's just going to be Daddy and the Baby dates no Mummy allowed, will look after them when you're working."

"And as for you family, we don't have worry about them. People are gonna talk shit if they wanna talk shit. We can't please everyone." He went on with his ranting, talking a little faster than he usually does, "I know we did not exactly plan this but if we're both in it then nothing should stop us. I'll be there with you every step of the way, baby, I promise!"

"I know, and I love you."

"I love you more!" He cooed, taking both her hands to place them on his shoulders he wrapped his own around her waist. "We're having a baby, we're having a baby, we're having a baby." He sang swaying in circles to no music in YN's tiny bathroom. Nudging his nose against hers he mumble sung his improvised song dancing to no music in celebration.

"We're going to be parents, we're going to be parents," and he changed the lyrics to his song looking dead in her eyes, making her giggle softly. He closed the millimetres of space between their mouths and slot their lips together.

He was going to have a kid of his own, he's going to be dad. He's over the moon dancing with the person who's going to make him a dad and home their baby for next nine months in her womb.

"I can't wait to see what's in store for us in future," he whispered.

"Me either," she whispered back.

"Do you still want to go to the concert?" He asked now lifting his head off of hers but still swaying in circles.

"Mhmm, wouldn't want to miss Billie Eilish concert!" She smiled sheepishly. "But I have to make an appointment for tomorrow first."

"Hmm that's important," Harry nodded, "but... we're having a baby, we're having a baby." He pulled her towards him again guiding her out to the living room as he swayed to his own music.

"We're having a baby!" She repeated to make it more sound more legit to herself.

......................................................................

At the concert, YN was very grateful off the tickets Harry got them. VIP section in the pit, it was meant to be fun. YN was rocking her Billie merch, Harry borrowed one of her shirt too so they could match. Even Anne, Gemma, Jeffery and Glenne were there.

Now YN and Harry have decided to keep the new to themselves and push the wedding date for after the baby is born. She is indeed pregnant, her doctor confirmed it. Even told them that their baby is a size of a small Cherry by now as she's eight weeks in. Harry found that very fascinating, and now he can to see thier baby grow and be born already. He was crying mess when he heard his baby's heartbeat for the first time and got to see the little grainy blob on the screen moving. That was a scene of yesterday.

But now, now, Harry isn't necessarily a fan of PDA. He believes he doesn't need to show his love for his fiancé to everyone else when she knows how much he loves her, there is no need for that. But when you're at a Billie Eilish concert listening to Ocean Eyes live, one couldn't help but sway with the love of their life. That's exactly what Harry was doing. He could seriously care less about people around with their cameras pointed at them.

YN was making her own Instagram stories too by the way. It was a good thing her account is private.

Harry had her arms wrapped her upper body caging her arms underneath his but still letting her film the memories. He sang along to her as he rocked them side to side. YN even managed to get many selfies with him and puther phone away for good.

"I love you baby." He whispered in her ear softly.

"I love you too," she reciprocated, holding onto his wrist. "Thank you for bringing me to the concert."

"Don't have to thank me," he huffed, a little offended of her thank you, "our baby can brag that their first concert was Billie Eilish, like their Mummy." He managed to keep his voice low enough just so she can hear him.

"Yeah," YN laughed.

"Is that Ms. YLN?" A girl squealed to her friend catching YN's attention.

"Oh my god yes! She's a Billie fan too! We stan!" The other one did not try to be subtle at all with her talking. Harry laughed hearing those girls.

"Are those your students?"

"Yeah," YN nodded, "they should be home studying, they're here."

"Hey come on, you're here too!" Harry defended those innocent students of her.

"They have their exams coming up not me." YN rolled her eyes.

"Oh my god her boyfriend is so fucking hot!" One of the squealed.

YN giggled her evil laugh, "true that." She leaned back on him comfortably.

"Urgh, you're giving my ego a boost darling." He rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Oh my god, Bad Guy!" YN gasped when Billie started singing Bag Guy. Gemma joined them as they danced away with song, Harry started with his Robot dance which YN followed quickly and so did Gemma. All in all they all had fun at the concert.

Them expecting was a little surprise for both of them which they decided to keep from everyone (at least for a while). They've planned to tell their family when they feel like it which is not happening, at least for a couple of weeks or even a month or until YN starts showing a little.

Harry had told his mum that he's working on a confidential project that he can't talk about yet, which she believed, when asked why they have pushed the wedding date ahead.

Now all there is left to figure out is their living situations, which was not a big deal in itself as they both basically live in YN's flat now. It can be taken care of eventually.

N O T E :

Fook!!! I loved writing this so muchhh 😭 this one is like my second favourite one shot I've written lol. :)))

Hope you like it too. Pls vote and comment as it helps me write more. Also, a reminder, my requests are open so you can feel free to reach out. Love. M xx

[landinoandco]

Could I ask for a Max Verstappen request?

Where you get all excited to tell him you’re pregnant and it doesn’t go well. Could you make it super angsty

Of course you can :) here you go, I hope you enjoy! 

Max Verstappen x reader 

Warnings: angst but with fluff at the end

Word count: 2.2 k 

Requests are open...

Baby, the future is ours

At last the summer break had rolled around again, to the relief of the Formula one drivers and crew, they had 3 long weeks ahead of them to fill with whatever they deemed stress-free or relaxing. The subject of activity depending on person to person - most sane folk tended to stick to a holiday to Greece or if you were an adrenaline junkie like Daniel Ricciardo jumping out of planes or BMX biking. You had lost count of the times Max - your boyfriend - had rushed in to tell you about all of the exciting things his best friend had gotten up to as of late. 

You and Max had decided to take a break and travel to a cosy, quiet part of Italy - to escape the press, the stress and most importantly the eagle eye of social media. It would just be you and him for a few weeks before reality brought you back to Milton Keynes in the shape of Christian Horner and his motley crew. 

You and Max had met in 2018 at a gala event Redbull had hosted, Pierre Gasly - being a close friend of yours - had introduced you two and to say the pair of you hit it off instantly was an understatement, whether it was a mixture of the Dutch meets British humour you had no clue but you weren’t one to complain. A few months later and Max had asked you to travel around the world with him - you did so willingly and life had been nearing perfect ever since. Of course you had your ups and downs, where the universe seemed to really test not only your love for one and other but your patience. A few arguments had shown you that both being hot-headed never ended well. 

You were sat out on the balcony, a book in hand and looking out into the Italien countryside. Max had left for a run and to explore the local village, leaving you, your thoughts and your growing baby. You were pregnant - you had taken the test just before flying out, this meant that Max wasn’t aware. You hadn’t told him yet and you had no clue how you were going to. As it turns out telling your partner you were pregnant was easier said than done - ironically. 

You and Max hadn’t had the baby talk yet - you had but only along the lines of: “one day, when we’re older and married and driving isn’t the main priority anymore.” Those were Max’s words. He wanted to be there for his child, to watch him or her grow, to see every milestone but most importantly to be a good and nurturing father. 

There was part of you that was slightly worried because you just didn’t know how Max would take it - you couldn’t keep it in any longer though. You had to tell him. There was another part of you that was excited - from a very young age you knew you wanted to have a family of your own with the person you loved the most. Call it childish naivety. At this point in time, you were ready to become a mother - well as ready as anyone ever could be. 

Placing your book onto the table, you made your way into the kitchen, grabbed a glass and filled it. Sighing loudly as you leant onto the countertop. 

“That was a loud sigh.” A voice called out from behind you. You recognised it instantly. Whipping your head around, you saw Max standing there, wiping the sweat from his forehead. 

Chuckling, you hit back, “Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

Rolling his eyes, he made his way over to you and wrapped his arms around your middle, placing a sweet, chaste kiss onto the side of your head. Leaning into his warm embrace, you let out another long but content sigh. 

“Seriously, what is it with you and sighing today.” Max uttered, his lips still against the side of your head. 

You went to move forward, out of his welcoming embrace. You knew what you had to do. 

“There’s something I need to tell you.” Instantly the atmosphere changed, you could feel Max stiffen behind you. Maybe the tone you chose to make that comment in was too serious but it was now or never. 

“Haha, which of your friends is pregnant this time.” He quipped jokingly, trying to break the tension. 

Instantly you knew the way the conversation was going to end, a pang of hurt felt in your stomach. You squeezed your eyes shut, catching your lip with your teeth. He stood there with an air of innocence and unknown, concern dancing in his eyes - he went to reach his arm out to you, to offer that encouragement. 

You braved the words that came out of your lips, “Me.” You almost whispered. Time seemed to slow. Max dropped his arm and instantly took a step back. 

“Pardon.” Was the only thing he could force out of his mouth, his throat seemed to close up and his hands went clammy. He definitely heard you the first time but he wanted to make sure it wasn’t a night terror. A bad dream he had failed to wake from. 

“I am, Max,” You said again, your voice wavering. 

“Oh.” He stated, his face drained of colour, his mouth set in a straight line. 

“Is that all you have to say.” You swallowed thickly, your eyes swam with tears. You had a hunch this was how it was going to end but it didn’t stop is from hurting the way it did. You had hoped he would have proved you wrong, to have wrapped his arms around you and to have spun you around. To have laughed. To have cried. To have shown a little more excitement to the fact you were now carrying his child. His first child. 

You moved past him and sat down on one of the wooden chairs, rubbing your hands over your face. He was still stood there. His eyes fixated on the view out of the window. No emotion read in his eyes. It was almost like you had hit the ‘off’ button. He tapped his foot and made a clicking noise with his mouth before turning around to face you - meeting your gaze. 

“How long have you known.” His voice was hoarse.

“A couple of days before we flew out.” You answered him, moving your face back to rest in your hands. 

There was a pause. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner.”

You took a breath, looking him dead in the eye. “Because I knew this was how you were going to react.” You didn’t trust your voice at all, you also didn’t know whether you wanted to scream at him or cry in the corner. 

“Right.” Was all he said. Still stood there like some awkward teenager after a rather large telling off from their mother. 

“Is that all you have to say to me?” You asked him, nostrils flaring. You were allowed to be angry, right? 

“What do you expect me to say.” He rounded on you, his voice raising more than was necessary. Tears had spilled down your cheeks, you didn’t have the energy to fight back. As soon as he realised the effect this was having on you, he went to move forward again, his eyes softening instantly. “I’m sorry - I - I shouldn’t have raised my-”

“Get out, Max.” You stated lowly. By this point, you had stood up, shuddering away from his desperate grasp. He knew he had made a mistake. You knew he regretted it, the moment the words had left his mouth. 

“Get out?” He repeated quietly, his voice cracking, you could see tears glazing his vision. 

“Just - please, go on a walk - come back once you have more to say to me.” You spat.

“But - But I already have more to say-” You cut his rambling off once again. 

“Please. Max.” You insisted, your voice betraying you again. “Go.” You whispered. 

Max stormed out of the door, ensuring to slam it so hard the chandelier on the ceiling swung precariously. You sank back into your chair and let out a loud sob, unable to hold it in any longer. 

Max was mad. Not at you, that would be unfair. He was mad at himself. At the world. At everything actually because at this point why the hell not. You were pregnant - don’t get him wrong, he was over the moon. He was going to be a dad. 

It was too soon. 

He still had his full F1 career ahead of him. A promising and long F1 career as a matter of fact. He wanted a baby to be his main priority and he wanted to share those one in a lifetime moments with you. He knew there was no point in being mad, it wasn’t like they were in a position where they couldn’t have a child. They had plenty of things to offer, a nurturing home with parents who were head over heels in love with each other and a large family - blood and not - who would be willing to support and love the child as if it was their own. Max really was in love with you. He knew it would be you to mother his children in the end, he just didn’t think it would be now. 

He reached for his phone, went into his contacts and pressed on the number that read the name: “D.R new phone.” Whilst it wasn’t adventurous like many thought it would be, it saved the confusion from calling a number that no longer existed. 

Daniel picked up on the second ring. “Hey dude, how’s it going?” 

“Not good at all, Dan, not good at all.” Max admitted, his voice wavering once again. He explained the events that had happened a mere 5 minutes ago, the way he reacted and the way he left you. Hurt and alone.

“I’m not going to lie to you, mate, you’ve fucked up big time.” Dan spoke after what felt like a loud silence. After all, Daniel knew you just as well as he knew Max. 

“I know. I know I have, do you think I’ve been selfish?” He asked, his tone full of raw emotion. 

“Yes.” Dan stated simply, “I think you have been, especially since she even told you this is how she thought you would react. How much stress do you think she had been putting on herself? Come one, I’ve taught you to be better than this.” Daniel paused, Max could almost hear him place his thumb and ring finger onto the bridge of his nose. “You know, just as well as I know, she knows it isn’t the best time. Her becoming pregnant is very much a two person job, I think it’s time that you go back to her and have a conversation like the adult I know you are.” 

In that moment, Max was so grateful to have someone like Dan just a call away. “Thank you, Dan. Really. I don’t know what I would do without you.” 

“Alright Mr Father-to-be, don’t be going all soppy on me now.” Daniel joked, returning back to his normal teasing. That was the best thing about Daniel, he was quite useful when you needed him to be. 

“You can count yourself on being the godfather after that.” Max added, a large beaming smile plastered onto his face. 

He heard Dan let out a loud laugh, “Go on, leave me be. Good luck, mate, let me know how it goes and when the time is right tell her I say congrats.” 

“Of course, mate. Thank you, again.” Max muttered, looking back in the direction of the villa. After he hung up, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and ambled slowly - working out exactly what he was going to say to you. 

Once he had opened the door, he called out to you. “Babe?” He heard a sniffle in response. You were still slumped on the chair in the kitchen, shooting daggers at the cupboard opposite. 

Max sat opposite you, reaching out for your hand. Grudgingly you let him take it, you blinked and he took a deep breath before a large, beaming smile crept onto his face.

“We’re going to be parents.” He rubbed the back of your hand, speaking tentatively. You nodded, your lower lip trembled. Max stood up, still keeping a hold of your hand as he gave it a slight tug, indicating that you should stand up. You made your way into his embrace, his arms wrapping securely around you, tucking your face into the crook of your neck as he rocked gently side to side, burying his face into your hair. He then moved his hands to cradle your face, wiping the stray tears away before peppering your face with feather light kisses. 

“We’re going to be parents.” He repeated, a little louder and to this you let out another sob, laughing as he picked you up and spun you around. 

“I’m sorry. I was being selfish.” He said, as he wrapped you back up into his arms. You smiled into his chest. In that moment, you couldn’t be happier. It was like all of your childhood dreams had come true. In that kitchen stood your new family, mismatched and sometimes a little bit broken but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[laurasstufff1]

hi 🤗 could you write one where christian pulisic and y/n are in a relationship but she lives in france and goes to visit chris in england every weekend by train and she gets really exhausted from the travel so he decides to ask her parents if she could go live with him and the girl's parents only accept if they get married and they decide to get married even though they are young.

I don't know if you could understand my English is horrible and you are free to change something 😘😘😘

warning: mention of loosing y/n's mum. I feel like I changed some things in this one, hope you still like it <3 <3

1.4k words

“I reserved dinner at Le Gavroche” Christian pronounced with his bad French accent, trying to make it up by kissing the side of your head while you were unpacking the little clothes you took for yet another weekend in London.

“Tonight?”  You asked lifting your eyes form the clothes just a second to look at him

“Yes. What’s wrong?” He asked sensing something wasn’t good by your tone. 

“Nothing, I’m just tired” you shrugged hanging your dresses.

“You should just stay here then. Forever”.

“You know my dad, Christian and-“

“And I’m so scared of him” he cut you off making you laugh even thought you were, indeed, so tired “But what do you want me to do? I fell in love with her beautiful daughter, who takes a fucking train underwater to come and see me in the weekends, but we can never do anything exiting because she’s always tired” he said at once. Indeed, that was a good summary of your relationship state right now.

You met Christian during some holidays in London almost 2 years ago, getting along like a house on fire from the first minute, even second. But your dad… he’s an old schooled man. First, he hated that Christian wasn’t French (‘at least he could learn the language!’ He shouted when you informed him that he had to talk to him in English), then it was even worse when you told him he was a footballer (‘couldn’t he find a real job? Isn’t America the land of opportunities?’ He laughed). And every Friday morning, when he saw you going down the stairs with your uni bag and your little suitcase for the weekend, he would stop talking to you until at least  next Tuesday.

The first time Christian visited France you introduced him to your parents. Your mum was so happy, your dad, not too much. That same night Christian and you informed them about your wishes to move in together ‘not before getting married’ your dad said very clearly and sure as your mum just smiled and kissed your cheeks, but not saying anything more. 

Now that it was only you and your father, you just didn’t want to disobey or disappoint him after the hard times you both had to go through, times where Christian made you a little bit happier.

“I know. I’m sorry” you said sitting on the bed, looking down at your hands, and only then Christian blamed himself for what he just said. “I shouldn’t-“

“No. I shouldn’t’ve said that, it’s not your fault” he said reaching your side, placing his arm around your shoulders to bring you closer to him. “You are the one who sacrifices for us, traveling all the weekends and confronting your father. I’m just here in London, going training everyday, wishing to find you here every time I get home, tired and sweaty” he huffed making you giggle “and I feel so selfish for that”.

“There’s nothing you can do” you mumbled hiding your face on his neck.

“I can do something” he said, and you immediately separated your face to look at him.

“Are you breaking up with me?” 

“God, no!! Not in a million years!” He laughed hugging you tight, tighter “I’m going home with you. I have Monday off, so we’ll take the first train in the morning and I’ll came back at night” “That’s too tiring. You have to go training on Tuesd-“

“Nah nah nah” he cut you off laughing “I already bought my tickets. Now sleep for a bit and let’s enjoy this time together, alright?” And he got up, walked to the other side of the bed and turn down the bed for you, even thought it was only 4pm. “I’ll wake you up when dinners ready, we can watch a movie or something” he said while closing the curtains, kissing your lips and leaving, closing the door behind him with a huge sigh.

*

“Dad” you greeted him. In was completely unexpected, he was leaving the house when you were just about to open the door. “You remember Christian, right?”

“Mais si. Bonjour Christian, ça va?”

“Dad, you know he doesn’t speak French” you warned him as you did before so many other times. 

“Excuse moi, je suis en reatard”  he  said before leaving, closing the door behind you. 

“He really hates me, doesn’t he?” Christian laughed, and you had to love him for that, most of the boys would be ran away already. “Can you at least tell me what he said?” He curiously asked.

“Just good morning and ‘excuse me, I’m running late’” you you mocked with a French accent while walking upstairs to his room, of course, you couldn’t share a room. 

And then dinner came. Christian was nervous, who wouldn’t with a dad like yours, but thank God it was just dinner, at home, and it wasn’t polite to talk while eating anyways. That’s why you were so concerned when you watched Christian getting up in front of you and your father.

“I know you don’t really like me” he started saying and your dad just nodded, you just couldn’t believe how shameless he did it “we don’t have too many things in common, but only one, that’s your daughter. We both love her and we both would risk our own lives for her. It was love at first sign, Sir, not for her, but I managed to get her to fall in love with me” he giggled hearing your laugh as you remembered those first ‘dates’ where you just treated him like a friend but he was head over heels for you “she’s the one traveling every weekend to see me. She’s already a grown up woman, so much has changed in her and in me during the last two years. She’s ready and capable to live a life full of joy and achievements, and I want nothing more than to be by her side, in the good and the bad: I hate it when she calls me crying because she had a bad day just as much as I hate it when she calls me and she can’t even pronounce the words correctly because of the huge smile on her face, I just want to be with her. She could’ve move in with me already, I asked her more than once, but she always said no because of you. I’m not trying to throw it on your face, I just want to show you the respect she has for you, as much as I have. I remember the first time I met you and your wife and I just asked you for permission to move in together, you said not before getting married. That’s why, tonight im asking you for her han-” He stopped talking abruptly when your dad let his fork fell to the floor. Only then he looked at you and saw your crystal eyes, and then looked back at Christian, with the same expression on his face. Your father himself was also on the edge of crying as soon as Christian mentioned his wife, your mum.

“Dad” you whispered begging him for an answer, whatever it would be, because you knew that wherever he liked it or not, you’ll end up with Christian.

“I don’t like you, Christian” he said as if it was something knew. “but your mum did” he added looking back at you. “It was scary before, but now, without her, it’s even more” he chuckled and now you could swore he was crying as much as you were. 

“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be just a call away, we’ll talk everyday on the phone, I promise” you mumbled practically begging him to say yes while Christian just looked, not wanting to interrupt the touching moment he just created.

“Okay” your dad finally said, and you just panted as if you were holding your breath ever since Christian got up from his chair. Only when you felt Christian hand on your shoulder you got up too, falling directly into his arms, sobbing on his shoulder, but he was also crying. You were about to kiss, but your dad talked again “I just hope” he said “the wedding is in France”

“Of course!” Christina said moving to hug your father, who wasn't expecting you at all and it made you laugh so hard “Thank you, sir”. 

“Just call me Leonard” your dad said, making Christian look at you speechless after your dad said he could call him by his name, which only made you laugh even harder while you hugged your dad now. Christian  just stood still watching from his spot, still not believing that your dad had finally accept the fact that he was, indeed, very much in love with her daughter.

[megsironthrone]

Meg’s Game of Tales: Tale 7; Part 2

*Familiar Characters are NEVER mine! Based on the original tale of Hans Christian Andersen. I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!!!* Here is part 1

Warnings: Part 2/2, Little Mermaid AU, angst, magic, fluff

Pairing: Theon Greyjoy x fem!reader

You felt light-headed as you sank down onto the ground, the warm sand digging into your new legs slightly. Gasps escaped your mouth, but you smiled through them. Melisandre's spell had worked and you now had human legs and the chance to meet the man you had saved. Still, something seemed off. You glanced down at yourself and it didn't take you long to realize it. All the humans you'd seen before had their bodies covered, much like your normal shells covered your top. You needed clothes.

         Glancing around, your eyes landed on what looked like a part of the ship that had broken apart in the storm. It felt a bit like clothing so you picked it up and wrapped it around yourself, tying the rope around you to secure the fabric against your body just as you heard voices approaching you. You ducked out of sight on shaking legs. Two voices met your ears.

         "I'm telling you, Robb, she was real. And the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. From what I could see from in the dark." You peeked out from behind you hiding place and held back a gasp of delight. There he was! He was walking alongside another male with curly auburn hair. He was beautiful too, but the first was who you'd done this for. "I think you hit your head too hard, Theon."

         As excitement coursed through you, you moved before you could stop yourself. Both men stopped short upon seeing you. They stared openly for a moment then a smile stretched over the lips of the man you'd rescued. Theon. "Hello!" You smiled at him and he asked your name. You tried to answer him only to be reminded that you had no voice. This just got a whole lot more difficult.

*time skip*

         Two days. Two beautiful days had passed and you were in love. Theon was confident and could be charming and funny. He paid close attention to you, even taking you around the kingdom. He talked a lot about himself, his kingdom, and his adopted family that lived in a kingdom across the sea. Not that you minded that he talked so much. After all, it wasn't as if you could speak in return and clearly Theon did not like awkward silences much. You did your best to make your feelings known and had hope that you would actually get the kiss you needed(and wanted) before the three days were up. That is until the morning of the third day.

         You came down from your room with a smile on your face. Theon had planned a feast for that night and you were hoping to entice him into a kiss so you could confess your feelings when you got your voice back. That thought was enough to get you out of bed early and heading down to the kitchens. However, you stopped in your tracks when you saw the redhead hanging off Theon's arm.

         "Y/N, good morning!" Theon greeted, "I would like to introduce you to Roz. This is the woman that saved me." Your eyes darted to the woman who gave you a fake smile. You returned the gesture before looking back at Theon. The next words out of his mouth had you near tears. "We're to be married. Tonight." You tried to keep the smile on your face, but got out of there as soon as you could.

         You were still several feet from your room when you ran into a solid wall. "Are you alright?" Your eyes met Robb's and you tried to nod. You liked Robb. He was sweet and was visiting Theon from his own kingdom so you got to know him as well. "No you aren't." You shrugged a bit and Robb smiled a little.

         "It's her, isn't it? Roz?" You watched him warily. While you liked him, you weren't sure if your admission would get back to Theon. "I don't like her for him either. I know she isn't the one he's been looking for." You could practically feel your body getting lighter and your eyes getting brighter. Robb chuckled softly. "It was you, wasn't it?" You nodded eagerly.

         "Then I will help you. I think you're good for Theon. You make him stop and think before making rash decisions. Well except for this one." Robb linked one of his arms with yours, making you turn back the way you came. "Now, come along. We have a wedding to stop."

         You followed Robb through the halls of the castle in search of Theon. The two of you tried all day to get him away from Roz to no avail. She was stuck to him like a limpet to rock. By the end of the day, you were losing hope. As the sky began to darken, tears came to your eyes. Robb noticed and hugged you. "It'll be alright. Let's get to the ship. That's where the wedding is taking place. He won't be able to get away from us, alright?" You nodded.

         As soon as the two of you set foot on the ship, your eyes met those of Roz. You wanted to cry until you glanced next to her. At that, your eyes widened in fear and rage. Melisandre! You should have known Roz was merely a pawn. Melisandre had planned to sacrifice you to her god from the very beginning and she would do whatever necessary to make sure you failed. You were furious and made to confront her. The only thing that stopped you was Robb appearing again at your elbow. He flashed them both a smile.

         While the three of them made small talk, you glanced at the necklace laying on Melisandre's neck. Something about it called out to you. You looked into the jewel. It was different. Inside the gem, there was something swirling around. Magic, most likely.

         Theon approached the four of you, momentarily distracting you from your curiosity. You smiled at him before you caught sight of the sun getting lower in the sky behind Melisandre. Not quite sunset yet, but getting close. The wedding was about to start. You were almost out of time. Once again, your gaze was pulled to the necklace and suddenly, a brilliant albeit mad, idea popped into your head.

         You'd have to be quick, but something told you that if got the necklace from Melisandre, you could spoil her plans and maybe get your voice back. With that in mind, you took a step and pretended to trip on your dress. As you fell, you grabbed for the necklace. You nearly cried in relief when you heard it snapping from her neck.

         No sooner did you have the jewelry in your hand did you feel the magic flowing through you. Gasps were heard from everyone but no one was louder than you. Your voice instantly came pouring from your lips as you laughed. You looked up with a grin and nearly fell over.

         In the place of the beautiful sea witch you had known stood an haggard old woman. You watched in horror as her legs began changing back to their true form. Men and women alike started to scream and your eyes found Theon's. He looked confused.

         "Where am I?" You laughed again and launched yourself at him. "Theon!" He let out a noise of surprise as he wrapped his arms around you to keep you both from falling. "Y-You're speaking!" You pulled back a little and nodded. "Yes. And I have so much to tell you. I was the one who saved you. She," you stated, glaring at Roz, "Is merely an instrument of that creature there."

         Theon looked between you and Roz for a moment. Roz too looked confused. It was clear Melisandre had used her magic on them both. "Theon," you said again, getting his attention, "I need you to do something for me." He gave a nod. "Ki-" Before the words could be spoken, you gasped in pain.

         "You're too late. The Lord of Light demands his sacrifice," the now creaky, raspy voice of Melisandre spoke. Suddenly, your legs would no longer hold you. You felt yourself sinking to the deck of the ship. To your horror, your legs were gone, replaced once more by your tail.

         Without warning, Melisandre grabbed you and dove back into the sea. She moved much more quickly than an old woman should. Theon's cries became muffled as you were swallowed by the waters you'd once called home. Your heart sank knowing that, this time, there would be no coming back. It was all over.

            You shot up from the bed with a gasp. Bubbles escaped your mouth for a few moments while you took in your surroundings. "What is it?" came the rough morning voice of your husband. You glanced at the crystal eyes gazing sleepily at you from underneath his mop of curly hair. "I had the strangest dream. It felt so real, Theon. We were both humans!" You laid your body back on his and proceeded to tell him the rest of your dream as your tails wrapped around each other and the rest of the sea began to wake all around you.

(a/n: I hope this was worth wait! That’s it! Meg’s Game of Tales is officially, finally, finished! Thank you all for reading and for following!)

Tag: @eddiemunsonswife21​

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Father | Sykkuno

Requested? Yup! I hope you like it!

Warnings? Nah

Summary: Sykkuno disappears from streaming for six months only to come back with a few new life changes

Word Count: 1,383

“Are you sure he’ll be okay?” Sykkuno asks nervously for the millionth time.

“He’ll be just fine. Besides we can always come pop in if you want us to,” you reassure him, and when Sykkuno still looks unsure you press a kiss to his lips.

“Darling, it’s all gonna be okay. I’m right here if you need me.”

Sykkuno searches your eyes for a moment before nodding silently. He presses a long kiss to your lips before leaning over to press a kiss to your son’s forehead. You send him another soft smile before shooing your husband off to his recording room.

Sykkuno had decided to take off the past six months when he found out his wife was pregnant. He wanted to focus on you and his son as much as possible, trying to spend every possible second with the newborn in the household. It was difficult not to tell his fanbase about the million new aspects in his life but he also valued his privacy.

Especially when it came to you. You were the most precious thing in his life, never wanting the world to get to you in any way. His son was on the same level, his whole world the minute he was born. He could think of nothing else, focus on nothing, but you and his son. His whole world, his loves, his everything.

His job also meant everything to him. He had worked at his youtube career for so long and his fans meant everything. They supported him through so much and he owed them everything. However, he knew he needed time away before letting them in on two of the biggest moments of his life.

As he sits down at his streaming desk, a wave of nerves hits him for a moment before stilling practically a second afterward. He was anxious to stream for the first time in a while. He had decided for the first time back to mostly sit and talk, give them all of the updates, tell them why he randomly disappeared, and let them know about the biggest things going on in life.

He gets everything set up, the motions coming back like he hadn’t been away for so long. His mind wanders to you as he works, wishing you were sitting with him, talking to him softly about your day, about your son, about your friends, whatever. Just listening to your voice as he works.

You wander around the apartment, bouncing your son on your hip as you slowly pick up random things to clean up. Your mind is not where it’s supposed to be, focusing solely on your husband and his upcoming stream. You had become so used to Sykkuno being around so much it felt empty the minute he stepped away.

You knew him going back to streaming was inevitable, and you would never keep him away from his job. It meant so much to him and you loved the glow in his eyes when he finished a stream and came to tell you all about it. It was special. You smiled mindlessly as you wandered around, thinking about your husband and how lucky you were.

Sykkuno makes sure everything is perfect, double and triple checking everything on stream before deciding to finally hit start on his stream. Chat pops up immediately, thousands of comments greeting him and questions asking where he’s been flood instantly and he smiles sheepishly.

“What’s going on guys,” he asks and the questions keep coming and coming.

He lets them go for a minute, the mods doing the most to filter and keep out the hate and he nods and smiles as he takes another deep breath.

“I know I’ve been away for a while,” he starts and watches as chat simultaneously reminds him that he left without a word for six months and while others support him.

“And I just kinda wanted to explain to you guys what happened.”

His mind races for a moment, trying to think of a way to word this but he knew he had to just let it out. Let out the two biggest secrets he had been hiding.

“So for a while now, I’ve actually been married. A few of you guys speculated when you saw the ring on my finger and it’s true. I married the love of my life,” he says smiling wide at the thought of you.

Chat blows up, to the point he isn’t sure whether or not twitch can handle how many questions are running at him at once. He tries to skim through it, hoping to answer a few of the millions coming through.

“How long ago did you get married? Uhh about a year ago,” he says absentmindedly fiddling with his wedding ring.

He nods as he searches for another question, hoping to clear half confusion for the disappearance.

“Who is she? What is she like? Guys, don’t tell her I said this but she’s the best. The better half of me and I love her so much.”

His smile had grown significantly and he decides to search for one more question before dropping his other news.

“Can we meet her? Well actually,” he trails off grabbing his phone from the desk in front of him.

He sends a quick text to you, asking if you would feel comfortable coming on stream and possibly even showing your son on stream.

Just as you rock your son to a light sleep, your phone dings with a text from your husband. Your head tilts, pulling it out of your back pocket and maneuvering it around till you can see. A smile replaces your confused look when Sykkuno asks if you and Christian could come visit stream.

You send him a quick yes and he tells you to wait until he tells you to come in.

“Okay guys, she’s gonna be here in a second. But I have to tell you the main reason I stopped streaming.”

“I am now a father,” he explains simply and chat lags so badly he’s certain it’s broken.

“I have a son named Christian, he’s 6 months old,” and he smiles when he realizes the irony of it.

At this point you had been standing next to Sykkuno’s recording room, listening to your husband talk about your little family and smiling. It made your heart fly to hear him talk so fondly of your life together.

Your phone dings with the text telling you to come in and you slowly open the door before shutting it behind you. Sykkuno’s eyes are already on you and you smile, lifting your sons hand to wave at him and he giggles lightly before reaching his hands out to you.

You nervously step into frame, Sykkuno wrapping an arm around you and pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

“Guys these are the loves of my life,” he introduces and you giggle looking over at him.

“This is my wife (y/n), and our son Christian.”

You wave Christian’s hand to the camera and laugh when Sykkuno grabs his hand and pretends to take a bite of it. He presses a kiss to his son's forehead and Christian is completely unaware of it all, snoozing happily.

“I’ll join you in a little bit, yeah?” Sykkuno asks and you nod.

You lean forward, pecking his lips without a second thought and take you and your son back out and to the living room. You sit for another 10 or 15 minutes before the door opens and Sykkuno comes out a tired smile on his lips.

You stand, placing your son in his bounce chair and make your way over to your husband. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and he pushes his face into your neck causing a giggle to escape your lips.

“I love you and our little family so much. You know that right?” he asks when he comes up again to look at you.

“Of course darling. I don’t think I’ll ever love anything as much as you and our son,” you say trailing your hand to his cheek, your thumb rubbing back and forth absentmindedly.

He smiles leaning into your touch before pressing his lips to yours, the same kiss that makes your heart go wild.

[gothicwidowsworld]

Selfish P.G

pt 1

Qualifying had never been Y/N’s favourite part of racing; it had just never appealed to her ; however, watching Mick Schumacher into Q2 could perhaps change her mind. Y/N couldn’t help but love the German man having formed a strong bond with him due to their mutual friend Sebastian Vettel. “Mick I know you’re going to be busy but please call me back. I have some news that I don’t want you hearing from anyone but me ok?” Y/N couldn’t help but frown; she was sure Mick already knew and was hurt she hadn’t confided in him about her situation.

Y/N was the first to admit she had needed time away from F1 even if it included her Grid family and safety net. “Is it true?” an irritated voice asked not caring for social etiquette. “I have no idea what you’re talking about Gasly.” Y/N replied turning to face the pacing Driver as she pocketed her phone. Scowling the y/h/c woman rolled her y/e/c eyes “God at least stand still, you're making me feel sick.” The younger girl complained the man's sharp moments getting on her nerves, choosing to ignore the stream of french curses tumbling from the panicked man. 

“We’re having a baby?” Pierre asked, finally coming to a stand still, his stance tense and unwelcoming. “No Pierre, I am having a baby. You are having a breakdown.” Y/N clarified sarcastically her hand coming to settle on her obvious baby bump. “Merde Y/N.. Why didn’t you tell me?” Pierre mumbled fixing his light brown locks, the usual post race mess no doubt made worse as he continued to comb through it aggressively. “We aren’t married Pierre. I don't have to tell you anything.” Y/N stated simply with a shrug of her shoulders almost wishing someone would come to her rescue. She’d usually just walk away but the further along the y/h/c girl got in her pregnancy the slower she walked, even Y/N knew the Frenchman would simply follow her hounding her for answers. 

The saviour Y/N had so desperately begged for appeared but instead of Mick or Seb even Max it was of course far worse. Her Father. “You ready to get back to the hotel Y/N/N.” Christian asked, eyes glued to his phone, probably already catching up on articles regarding qualifying. “Pierre?” The older man asked, confused clearly not noticing the hostility he’d walked in on. “He was just leaving Dad.” Y/N said, attempting to smile convincingly at her father hoping he’d leave. “Got you just don’t leave your old man waiting alright sweetheart” Christian acknowledged kissing his daughter on the forehead before sending his ex driver a stern smile.  

“This isn’t over, you can’t shut me out!” Pierre hissed, moving to grab the girl's arm as she attempted to follow her father. Whipping around to face the AlphaTauri driver Y/N couldn’t help the scoff that fell from her lips. “You need to stop! We are not a couple, We are not friends. It was one night Gasly get over yourself!`` Don't get me wrong, at one point the British girl had been completely head over heels for the man but now her heart just ached. Everywhere she looked she saw couples sharing loving kisses or just holding hands and she hated how much she’d wanted that with Pierre. The magical hold the older male had over her had broken violently the day she woke up in a random hotel room alone, not even a note explaining where he’d gone. He’d just left. “Give me a chance at least!” Pierre exclaimed, almost throwing his hands up in frustration. “I want to be a Father. I deserve to be there for my child! You’re just being selfish.” 

“Me selfish! Gasly why would I want someone who can’t even stay until sunrise in my child's life!” Y/N yelled not caring who heard her she wanted to punch him. To make him feel even an ounce of pain her heart felt. “What are you talking about?” The man asked, confusion filling his face the previous anger he’d felt mellowing. “I woke up and you were gone.” Y/N muttered pathetically, wiping the hot tears that raced down her y/s/c cheeks. “I thought it was a mistake?” Pierre whispered not knowing if he should hug the crying girl in front of him. “My mistake was going to bed with you in the first place.” Y/N responded halfheartedly. “Don’t say that.” Pierre croaked out tears starting to fill his own eyes. “It was my mistake. I… I should have stayed. I should have held you, I just got scared.” The driver explained nervously, taking a step towards the younger Horner. “I got scared that you’d hate me. That i’d ruined everything between us…” the frenchman trailed off. He spoke slowly knowing that when he got emotional he’d either slip into french or his accent would become so strong nobody could tell what he was saying. “There is nothing between us.” Y/N argued weakly, the sick feeling she’d felt earlier resurfacing. “There is. For me at least.” Pierre insisted “I love you..” the man stated softly ducking down to envelope the girl in his arms and capture her soft lips in a heated kiss.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just Next Door

Warnings: dubcon, cheating, some cumplay, forced pregnancy/breeding.

This is grey!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Based on this drabble request: Andy Barber + “I love it when you look at me like that.” + breeding/forced pregnancy +I love dubcon more than non-con but I die if it was reversal with a darker reader or where reader absolutely tricked these got this guy into catching her and flips the script in like the last second. @sagechanoafterdark​

You watched Andy as he reached into the pool and shoved his hand in the filter. He grunted and dislodged the plastic bottle, pulling it out with a grimace as all the other muck had gathered inside of it. You cringed as he sat back on his heels and looked up at you with a sigh.

“Well, there’s your problem,” he said and you didn’t miss the way his eyes fought to stay above your bikini top.

“Thank you so much, you have no idea how frustrating it’s been. There’s so much chlorine in this thing now it could lighten my hair,” you rolled your eyes, “you really are a lifesaver.”

“No problem, it’s been pretty quiet today since Laurie dragged Jacob off to his game,” he stood and you pointed him past you. 

He held out the dripping bottle and you followed him to the sliding door. He reached through and dropped the bottle in the trash.

“You’re not there?”

“Well, you know… the kid is at that age, he doesn’t even wanna play anymore but Laurie wants him to stay in it and then he doesn’t want me there after I took her side,” he stopped himself and waved away his gripes, “whatever, he’ll get over it. Gets it from me, I was a little shit when I was his age.”

“Hmm, if you’re not busy, you want a beer? I kinda owe you?”

He swallowed and you watched his throat bob. Again, he resisted a gaze further down and squirms. You wore the new bikini proudly, months of morning jogs paid off at last and you can’t wait to show off after your ugly divorce.

“Uh, sure,” he shrugged, “can’t hurt.”

You slipped past him, certain to brush a little too close. He was a married man but you were married too and that didn’t stop Christian. Besides, you saw how he and Laurie were, you heard their arguments.

You went to the fridge as he sat on a stool along the counter, another new purchase as half the house was renovated with your alimony. You pulled open the fridge and bent low to search out the green bottles. You were more a wine person but you always kept a few around.

You heard the whisper of his breath and as you stood, you stopped and gave a playful ‘oops’ as you cradled the cold glass under your right arm and kept your back to him as you wiggled and fixed the bikini over your chest.

You turned back to him and clinked the bottle down on the island. You fished around in a drawer and brought out and opener and popped the caps. You slid one over and leaned on the counter as you took your own. You drank lackadaisically and crisp droplets spilled down your chest.

With another giggle you wiped it away and tutted at yourself. He cleared his throat as the butt of his bottle hit the marble again. You looked at him and your eyes went wide, he was staring straight at your chest. He shook his head and his eyes met yours guiltily. He grinned and tilted his head and slowly looked away.

“So, how’s work?” you asked casually.

“Pain in the ass, like everything else,” he answered and took another swig, “wouldn’t be so bad if--” he sniffed and jutted out his jaw, “nothing.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” he repeated.

“You know, I didn’t see it either,” you said quietly, “with Christian, I just wanted to see the best even when it wasn’t there and then I just wanted to pretend.”

“What-- no,” he scoffed, “me and Laurie…” his blue eyes searched and he drained half the bottle in a gulp, “how’d you know?”

“Once you’ve been through it, it’s easier to see,” you pursed your lips before you sipped, “but you know, if it’s early enough and you do, you might be able to fix it before it’s too cracked.”

“I don’t know,” his voice trailed off and he tapped the side of the bottle. He stared at the countertop and emptied the bottle with a loud chug, “maybe.”

“Maybe,” you echoed, “sorry, it’s really none of my business.”

He was up in a minute. The empty bottle wobbled on the counter and you stood up straight.

“Andy?” you smiled as he rounded the island.

“I like that,” he said and pointed to your bikini strap, “she doesn’t dress like that anymore. Not that she can’t, she’s fit, she jogs every morning, so I don’t get it--”

“Well, maybe if you talk to her,” he came closer and backed you up to the corner of the counter, “sometimes that’s all you need--”

“And you, I saw how hard you tried with Christian and he just didn’t care and,” he bit his lip, “he didn’t even know what he had.”

“When she gets home, you should talk, maybe you could go away--”

“We’ve talked, we’ve gone away, we’ve… tried,” he breathed as his hands settled on the counter on either side of you, “she doesn’t even care enough to fight with me anymore.”

“Andy?” you batted your lashes at him.

He crashed his lips into yours and you gasped. He leaned heavily on you and crushed you into the counter. His arms swept around you and he kissed you until you were breathless and dizzy. 

He parted and his lips parted in shock. He blinked and cringed. “I’m sorry--”

“Sorry,” you grabbed the collar of his tee and pulled him back to you, your lips only an inch from his, “for what?”

That time, you kissed him and grabbed his hand as he pushed on your shoulder. You forced it down and pressed it to the front of your skimpy bottoms. He shuddered as your tongue poked into his mouth and you bent his fingers against your cunt. You pulled back just a little and leered into his eyes.

“I love it when you look at me like that,” you slithered, “better fuck me fast, Mr. Barber.”

He let out a smoky breath and his hands snaked under you. He lifted you onto the counter as your lips met again. You unzipped his pants frantically and rolled them down, hooking your thumbs in the elastic of his boxers. He slid you closer as he popped out the top and you felt his against your bikini.

He pulled the bow at the side and then the other and the fabric fell away, catching under your thigh as he urged you closer. You grabbed him and rubbed him against your slick folds, wetting him as you moaned and lining him up with your entrance. 

You nibbled his lip and growled as you slid off the counter and onto him. He filled you so completely you threw your head back in delight. He rocked you against him and you ground wildly as your clit rubbed against his pelvis. The friction fed your core and you clung to him desperately.

You reached back and gripped the edge of the counter as you wrapped your legs around him and slammed your hips against him. He bent and kissed your throat and your chest as your top slipped again. His groans and grunts made your head spin and set your nerves alight.

“Andy,” you wisped and his name turned to a chant as you chased your orgasm.

You came and your arms trembled dangerously. He pushed you back until you were across the counter. He spread his hand over your chest and held you down as he bucked his hips. He moved your body on the marble with each thrust, his other hand on your hip.

You kept your legs around him and arched your back. You felt him tense and his climax began to tremble within him. His nails dug into your skin as his fingers curled and you watched his dark eyes as they fogged.

“Fuck, fuck,” he tried to pull out but you kept your legs tight and sat up to cling onto him again. 

You rode him until he spilled and swore when you stopped. He pushed you away and you fell onto the counter with a laugh. You pushed your legs apart and his cum leaked onto the marble. You ran your fingertips through the mess and winked at him as he stared at you in horror.

“What the fuck?” he hissed.

“Oh, it’s fine, Andy,” you brought your fingers to your lips and licked away his cum, “Christian never would give me a baby.”

👙👙👙

Please reblog and like! Let me know what you think.

[evabritt]

A Night With My New Sugar Daddy

The past week has been strange, to say the least. One night I got really high and made a Seeking Arrangements profile, mostly out of boredom. This website is mega sad. There's no way of avoiding that. It's mostly a run-of-the-mill Pre-Tinder dating website, ala Christian Mingle. The different part is that men fill out their income and net worth, with descriptions like “discrete” and “no strings attached”. My profile has no photos of my head, just my body. Totally degrading anti-feminist meat market stuff. I have a photo Maria took of me at North Ave. Beach, right before I left. I cropped my head out. One time I showed a guy at a beer garden in Munich the picture and he went, “What? That's you?”. He was very impressed. I hope. Don't worry, I’m not that much of a slut- I have “private” photos only men of my approval may see. I told Talulah about it and she suggested we do it together. So now we’re sugar babies, sorta. I text with the men and once they seem well adjusted I propose that I have a friend who is “interested in this type of arrangement”. Then they ask for a photo. Talulah doesn’t like having pictures of her taken, a belief we share. So, I send them one I took of her in my kitchen. In the photo, she is gazing blankly at the camera, trying to hold back laughter. 

Talulah has accidentally become one of my closest friends. I feel like I’m in a movie when I’m with her. She's genetically cool. She grew up in Brooklyn surrounded by a carousel of artists that lived in her parent's spare room. She frequently launches into long tales about her mythical apartment. Once, she said, someone got married in it. Another story involved a group of Romanian folk dancers who were entrenched in a love triangle. Talulah has beautiful naturally bright blonde hair and amazing bangs. She doesn't even blow dry them. I’m so jealous. If I don't follow a diligent multi-step hair routine, I look like I grew up in an isolated forest and have never seen humans before. Talulah owns an insane amount of jeans but insists that she wears all of them equally. She likes really dark chocolate and peanut butter. She drinks a lot of wine. I feel so special when she wants to spend time with me; we do a lot together too. I think that Talulah is the type of girl guys get obsessed with. At clubs her eyes dart from person to person, occasionally stopping at mine. It looks like she's hunting. She dances a bit like a belly dancer. She moves fluidly, a stark contrast from the typical techno dancing of Berlin. I accept that I follow her around like a puppy. In all my past friendships, I always felt like the one pulling the strings. (An Effy and Pandora from Skins relationship ). But with Talulah I just sit back and let her find the fun. Ive but a lot of faith into her. I find myself spending so much time with her, more than any friend before. This is so exciting for me. Ive always wondered about this type of friendship. It’s a sort of exceptional bond that Ive only seen in movies, or the TV show skins. We made pancakes together once. Shell often break out into song and dance in front of me. This makes me feel awkward. Its so romantic but in this unnerving uncanny way. It doesn’t feel real, like Im a character in a movie. 

The problem looming over our friendship is that we have to have sex together. While we were looking at my account, we laughed really hard. I think we were laughing at the sad absurdity of this get-rich-quick scheme. But we laughed really hard when it hit us that we’d have to fuck each other. Well, at least it took a moment to hit me. We promised that we would set time aside to practice. We even considered asking our lesbian friends for help with the matter. Im writing this a week after the events of this post and since then, we’ve made out twice. It was pretty sexy, cant lie. We were both fucked up at a club. I feel really awkward making out with someone on a dance floor. Especially kissing another very straight looking woman. It feels very tacky, attention seeking. But Talulah  likes it, I think or at least doesn’t share my shame. 

Anyway, back to our adventures: I met this guy on Seeking, his username is Apocalypse Now Later. His bio said he's an artist. He had some of his art on his profile; my mom would hate it. It looks a bit like Target art. Lots of abstract  graphic blobs. Blobs shaped like buildings, naked women, and clubs. Some of the blobs were painted colors. Truly sensational. He was attractive, though, which is rare for the website. We planned to meet up with all three of us. I suggested a really expensive bar in Prenzlauer Berg. When we got there he was talking at the table behind him about the events he hosts. I stalked his facebook and knew that he hosts a Hebrew language reading/performance/show/I don’t really know what it is. Some kind of event where people go and look at their acquaintances do funny little shows or hang up blobby artwork on the wall. His outfit reminded me of something a boy my age would wear. He had on a loose patterned top, reminiscent of the 70s, over that was a similarly patterned black blazer. I think he dressed up for us. He might have had a scarf on but I can't remember. We sat down and immediately learned that his money does not come from art but in fact, from drugs; weed specifically, he grows and sells his own. He told us he grows around 3 kilos of weed a month. He grows weed in all his friend apartments. So, he is frequently just hanging out in other peoples apartments. I’m sure he gets a little money from his art, but no way is it enough to support the likely massive drug habit he has. Personally, I value an entrepreneurial spirit. Owning your own business is hard, especially an illegal one. Being a weed man requires, networking skills, organization, a vast knowledge of botany; It’s not easy work. 

We learned that his name is Barak, he is from Israel, he is 40, was married for 9 years, currently, he has a partner, and they've been together for 4 years. 40 is really old, older than Uwe. 40 is double my entire life. He was my age in 1996. It’s also strange to be on a three-way date. At first, I felt like he liked Talulah more than me; she's prettier than me and just has this indescribable ethereal quality. (I mean that in a platonic way). But then I recited Israeli history to him like an autistic robot and I think that really charmed him. He kept telling me I was the funniest person he's ever met. If that is true, he must have had a boring past 40 years. We smoked two joints with him. He got into a tiff the owner of the bar about his weed. We stepped out to smoke the first joint. When we came back the man asked us if we were enjoying everything and then very politely asked us to walk across the street if we were going to smoke more. He said it was to be considerate of the neighbors. For whatever reason Barak insisted that it was not weed we smoked, but CBD, that he bought from the store down the road. For someone so brazen with weed smoking it was strange how annoyed he got, you would think this was a common occurrence. Or maybe be it annoyed him so much he gets angrier every time. I bet the latter.

We also did coke with him. It was my first time trying coke, it wasn't what I thought it was going to be like. It made my teeth feel tight, like when you put your retainer on for the first time in months. It also leaves a gross taste in the back of your throat. Damn you sinus  system; always fucking shit up. Otherwise, I guess it’s a nice activity to do at a club. The drama of filing into a bathroom and preforming that intricate cocaine ritual. Immediately after he snorted his line, I asked him if he supports a two-state solution. It seems like he probably doesn't but I can tell he has some Israeli-guilt about it. He agreed when I said, “Too bad about Palestine”, so he’s at least a bit emphatic. Honestly, I can’t believe my luck. This is maybe the greatest thing thats ever happened to me. I feel like I’ve found my Berlin-fairy-Godfather. Who else can say they just walked into the most profitable relationship of their life? This is a reward from some higher power. I am Grateful! Thank you! 

A couple of days later, Talulah and I were with him in Neukölln at his friend's apartment. An Italian-American hermit from Georgia named Nick owned the apartment; he's a chef that works with Irish people. I actually met him sometime after this night. (The context of that story is so bleak: I lost 4 molly pills and had to go crawling to him to get 4 more, long story). His been in Berlin for 11 years but miraculously sounds like a black teenager from Atlanta. It’s a beautiful sight. The apartment was very well-lit but almost completely barren. He had no table, just a small sofa. He had a computer desk and used a vintage trunk as a quasi-bench/dining room table. His kitchen was mechanical. He had no stove, just a hot plate. And only one set of cutlery, the universal mark of a terminally alone bachelor. Though, he had a large and impressive record collection. This time felt notably different than the last time. Barak was quieter, less suave, and more awkward. He was dressed tamer. He wore an intentionally garish patterned button up but toned it down with a black sweater. For pants, he had on simple khakis. He looked sort of like the sexy kind of history teacher. This time felt weirdly un-intimate like we were hanging out in an IKEA display. It wasn’t any of our homes, I felt like an intruder. The three-person part feels strange when one person leaves to go to the bathroom or leaves because there's a “client” downstairs. (When I was first texting with Barak, I thought his “clients' ' were art clients, they are in fact not that type of client). When Talulah left to pee there was a weird silence between us. Like two 12 year olds assigned to a group project. He emphatically- yet awkwardly- asked me how I was. I responded and probably spun into some complaint or general grievance to fill the silence. I wonder what Barak and Talulah talked about while I was peeing. Probably about how she was.  

We ordered Indian food and ate it on the floor. It was pretty good but I got too nervous to eat, the most persisting trait from my days with a light eating disorder. I cant eat in-front of people, especially men. Its really stupid and annoying. It makes me look so dumb, when Im the only friend not eating. As always, can of worms for another day. Around 10, Talulah said she needed to go because she had class tomorrow. An early class is maybe the greatest excuse of all time. Actually, class at anytime is the best excuse. (Pro Tip: If you want to flake on someone at a time when you logically wouldn’t  have class, like a Friday  night, say you have to attend a special lecture or moving screening or someone other bull shit art fest your fake liberal arts college sends you do in lieu of real assignments) He then invited us to a club and said that he got us all on the guest list. I personally believe that it's important to take the opportunities life blesses you with. So, I put up a bit of resistance, mostly for show. “I really should be going soon, I have class tomorrow blah blah blah”. But ultimately, I agreed to go out with him. One thing about me is that no daytime engagement has ever stopped me from going out. I was excited at the idea of going somewhere on the guest list. It made me feel very fancy, like I was part of some inner circle. 

When we got to the club there was no line. The bouncers took his name and showed us inside. The guest list didn’t  get us in for free, he still had to pay a “reduced  free”. The guest list isn’t  some exclusive social club, its basically a rewards card. He seemed surprised that he had to pay. We went through the hassle  of getting our bags “searched” and our cameras covered. This felt very humiliating. The lights were so bright and I felt awkward. Mostly because I was aware the staff might be thinking we look weird together. I remember one time a couple came into the restaurant I worked at. The man was maybe in his 50s and the woman was probably my age now. She was wearing a lot of pink and a playboy necklace . Another waitress and I tried to figure out if she was his date or daughter. Now, I am that girl. Thankfully we don’t look alike. God, maybe that makes it weirder then, because its obvious we are not a father and daughter enjoying some wholesome clubbing. He said he has been going to this club since it opened in 2014. I refrained from telling him that I was 11 in 2014. Berlin is definitely the best city in the world for clubbing yet clubs can be really uncreative in their interior design choices. Berlin clubs are either warehouse-themed or circus themed. This one was the ladder. Personally, I like a warehouse more than Cirque du Soleil. It’s way edgier. He led me to the bathroom and we did more coke; snorting drugs with a 40-year-old in a bathroom stall might be a sign that I’m not making the best choices. We sat on couches in a room next to the dance floor. He seems to be really charmed by my occasional spurts of autism. I told him how much I love drugs to which he responded by giving me 2cb or tusi. It seems to be just a random mix of other drugs, namely molly, ketamine, and LSD. He made me read the Wikipedia page beforehand, which is considerate, I guess. It wasn't as strong as I thought it was going to be. The visuals were mild, but the body sensations were strong. Whenever I take a psychedelic, I use the view of my hand as a gauge of the quality of drug. The club was, in its design, pretty trippy. There was a large replica  of three Greek goddesses in the center of the room. With murals of chaotic scenes plastered on the walls. He was biting my ear and I felt an all-over tingling. The Wikipedia pages described it as “pins and needles”, which makes it sound like a bad thing. But the feeling was really good, good enough to make me forget that I am not really attracted to the 40-year-old kissing me. While we were making out, I wondered again what the people around us thought. Maybe this is a normal sight for 3 am at a club. But I couldn't shake the feeling that people were watching. Maybe they were judging me or maybe they were worried for me. There was a woman who kept making eye contact with me. I wonder if she was repulsed by his grey hairs and deepening wrinkles pressed up against my bright milky skin, untainted by decades of sun and smoking. She was probably just really drunk and staring into space, though. 

Barak is a weird man. Considering how creepy this relationship is, he is surprisingly well-spoken, gentile, and thoughtful. It's impressive how relentlessly happy he is. He is eccentric to his core. He dresses like a character in a John Waters movie; decked out in layers of cheap flashy second-hand clothing. He gave me a vintage Yamaha racing jacket, he said it cost 7 euros. I found the same jacket on eBay and it's worth 170 euros. I gave the jacket to Talulah, I thought it was ugly. It's hard to not find myself charmed by his attention to detail. He doesn’t hold back compliments, he told me I was beautiful in an alien way. He seems so attracted to me. I cant lie, its made me more self confidant. I don’t know if its him or Berlin or the other guys Ive hooked up with but all of a sudden I feel so pretty. Ive never thought I was pretty. In fact, I used to think I was distinctly unattractive. I think most women my age probably have some insane unheard of face dysmorphia caused by years of selfie taking. Ive always liked my eyes the best, still I think they’re too hooded and downturned. I hate my cheeks, chin, and lips. My cheeks are full and make my face look fat. My chin is too small. My lips are uneven and thin. But now at certain angels, I can see the shape of something pretty emerging. When I look in the mirror I am starting to see what Barak might see. I wonder how different things might be if we were the same age. 

After a couple of hours of staring blankly at lights on a dance floor, we went back to his friend's apartment. We snorted some coke in a cab then climbed up 4 flights of stairs. He's pretty active for a 40-year-old, clubbing and drug use will really keep a person young! The apartment felt different the second time. Nighttime made the lights glow warmer, the plants looked greener, and the pots and pans that decorated the wall were extra shiny. I was on a lot of drugs. I felt cozy but there was also a growing anxiety stirring in my stomach. He put on some smooth jazz, a choice that is both too on the nose yet also deeply off-putting . He started to kiss me and pushed me onto his lap. I sat straddling a man who could be my father. This made me think of my old high school boyfriends. I remember sitting on Kiran's lap and feeling a hard penis for the first time. He took my shirt off and then his. His beer belly pushed against my own stomach as he moved to the ground. “I want to lick you”, he said. Ew. Gross. I guess there is no better way to announce oral sex but wow lick is maybe one of the worst. At this moment, I felt an all too familiar anxiety wash over me. I didn't know what to say. I didn't really want to have sex with this guy. It was all wrong, Talulah wasn't here, I was super high, and worst of all I wasn't getting paid for it but I worried that if I fucked this up we would never see him again. And we need to see him again because he's our gateway to a wonderland of crazy party drugs. But I gave in to myself and told him I didn't want to have sex. He immediately pulled away from me and very enthusiastically told me it was ok. I think that liberal self-proclaimed feminist men enjoy boasting about how well they can handle rejection. As if it isn't a normal human response to be disappointed when someone rejects you. 

 I was cold and suggested moving off of the two-person sofa and into the bedroom. We smoked two more joints and I tried to fall asleep. He kept waking me up by massaging me. Eventually, he moved his hand down my tights and began to finger me. It's not like I was being assaulted, I knew I could stop him but I just didn't feel like it. I just wanted to lay there and sleep. The drugs were making me really turned on, I wanted him to keep going. But my brain wanted to sleep. So I just laid still and imagined I was a doll. He seemed so turned on, like probably the horniest person. Eventually, he did give me head because I didn't stop him. Every time I hook up with a man I assume that he’ll pick up on my lack of enthusiasm as a sign to stop but it never happens. Despite lying there like an extra on set for a zombie movie, he pressed on. My senses were completely overwhelmed. I've never felt so vulnerable before. I was completely stripped down both physically and emotionally. I told him in order to have sex I need to complete a complex shower routine, which is only sort of true. (I like being clean before sex but I don't have OCD or anything). I tell this lie to a lot of men in order to avoid having sex and he was the first to actually think about it. He told me that my body is not dirty and that it can actually be nice to shower with other people. I was stunned. I am not used to other people outsmarting me. God, how typical the 19-year-old girl thinks her only intellectual counterpart is a 40-year-old man. Sometimes, my life feels so played out. 

After our rendezvous, I tried to fall asleep but he was snoring so loud. It sounded painful like he was dying. He would gasp for air for a bit and then he would almost choke on his own breath. He would do one big missive snore, so loud he would wake himself up. His nose is probably messed up from all the drugs. At a certain point, my nose became clogged, probably from all the drugs. Then we were, in sync, struggling to breathe. His music is still playing too. But at this point, the Spotify playlist had been on for long that it was playing Disney movie kind of jazz. Imagine the opening credits to The Princess and the Frog. The drugs were wearing off and I was increasingly aware of my own existence. I felt a headache coming. I hadn't been able to fall asleep at all but I knew my alarm would go off at 8:30 and he would wake up. All I had to do was just lay there for a bit longer. However, we were laying in a way that I was basically trapped in his arms, with his mouth right next to my ear. I was uncomfortable and couldn't move. I could tell it was daytime because the room was brighter. Waiting for the alarm was arduous. It could have been 8:27 or 6 am, I had no way of knowing. In hindsight, I don't know why I didn't wake him up. I wanted to pretend that his snoring wasn’t  happening and that I was perfectly content in his arms. I think I wanted to feel alone for a little longer.

It was my lucky day because he soon woke himself up. I felt his hard dick on my back. He commented that it was so nice sleeping with me. He asked me if he could rub himself on me. Instead, I turned around and gave him a blowjob, mostly because I felt it was the polite thing to do. He came quickly, which was also polite of him. He offered to go get breakfast but I said I don't eat breakfast. I actually love breakfast I just really wanted to go home. I did prolong my stay by taking a cold shower with useless organic soap. (My shower is currently broken, beggars can't be choosers). 

Some time has passed since this night and I've seen Barak again a couple of times. Each time is weirder than the last. Once I went to an apartment he was renovating to pick up pills. I think he’s using the renovation as a way to hide the over 40 weed plants growing in the master bedroom. Another time I went out with Talulah and him. Talulah went home with a guy from the club. Barak took me to his friend's apartment where he grows weed. He tucked me into bed, whispered, “I want to eat your pussy”, kissed my forehead, then left. This is maybe the most profitable and strange relationship I’ve ever had. I love it.

[awordwasthebeginning]

the midwife’s secret - sorta liveblogging pt. xiii (last one!!)

22:05: ok I wasn’t going to write anything about the first five seconds, but Christian arrives in Meißen and tells the castellan about the messenger who summoned him, and that castellan is played by Fritz Roth. May he rest in peace.

22:09: Hedwig overhears the whole thing and tells Chris that she did in fact send a messenger - only to Randolf, not to Chris. She is sorry about the whole situation. Chris hops on Drago’s back and rides off. 

22:11: Jonas and Karl (?) are being whipped. Randolf grins. Emma, Marthe and Grete (the old woman) hold onto each other. Wiprecht and Hildebrand yell “stop!” but don’t dare do more.

22:19: sorry, got distracted by last-minute political work. Anyway, Marthe sends Lukas to get Chris. She herself helps Jonas and Karl while Randolf’s guards are distracted by a prostitute. Griseldis watches.

22:36: [sorry, politics AGAIN.] Lucas misses Chris obvs. Chris is back at the village. That “I’ll wait for him to come to me” Randolf was counting on, it’s happening sooner than expected: Chris offers to confess to having taken silver in exchange for Karl and Jonas’s freedom. Randolf, of course, agrees. His men free the lads but take Chris captive. Randy randy tells him what he did to Marthe. Chris tries to attack. Randolf has him prepared for a duel.

22:43: ok stuff is happening, phew, let me recap: Chris and Randy duel; Randy is somewhat better, Marthe jumps on his back (after Hildebrand tried to hold her back). Randy stabs Chris in the (injured) right shoulder and drags Marthe to the river where he threatens to drown her. Nice parallel to her mother’s death, I guess? Wiprecht remembers he’s a character and yells “let go of my wife” before someone runs him through with a spear.

22:49: Marthe appears to be dead. Chris goes to fight/drown Randolf in the river. Arnulf, whom Lukas met at the castle, arrives and yells at him to let Otto  judge Randy, because that’ll go so well. /s Lukas, Emma, Grete and ? Griseldis ? drag Marthe from the river. She appears dead for a few more seconds for dramatic effecct before she spits out water. Chris hugs her and picks her up.

22:54: Otto sends Randolf on a crusade to protect the pilgrims in Jerusalem. He makes Chris’s...fief? Vassallage?...hereditary, so “after his death his inheritance will not fall back to the Margrave”. Chris then summons Dietrich (the sick kid), whom Otto hugs and kisses, and Marthe, whom he asks Otto to elevate to his status so he can marry her. Otto be like, “you want to marry?!??!?!?!” yeah dude, you just gave him an inheritance, he’ll need children for that, won’t he?? But Lukas, Arnulf, Hedwig and Albrecht (?) seem equally surprised. Dunno which film they’ve been watching.

22:58: Otto agrees. Hedwig is semi-happy, everyone else applauds. THEN Chris remembers to ask Marthe if she even wants. Since Wiprecht is dead, duh, of course she does. They kiss. Then they ride home. Randolf watches them from the woods, hinting at a sequel which never came.

Fuck, it’s actually been two years, and now it’s finished. Hope you enjoyed the ride at least somewhat. Drago certainly did.

 ~ Fin ~

[asphalt-cocktail]

Hear me out..kay?

'70s John Lennon with younger female home assistant reader getting into a lil dispute because John thinks he let himself go after the Beatles broke up, but the reader believes otherwise and it ends up in the two of them having passionate/slightly rough sex because he's more or so angry with himself than anything? And the two of them are really close too, like John allows her to watch Julian and Sean when he's at the studio or on business trips?? And the two boys genuinely like her???

(a universe where he isn't married to yoko ((no hate intended)) and is single and happy that way..)

Oh my god, I love this idea! 70s john is so pretty. I love how he looks as he gets older. it’s like fine wine. Some of the ages might not add up but we’ll call this an AU for the sake of consistency!

Warnings: Some smudges of angst, smut, insecurities, language

Also it got WAY longe than I expected so i got a little carried away. 

As John slept, he dreamt he sat perched on a throne made bones. It overlooked a high cliff that faced the ocean where the wind burned his face and he could hear seagulls screaming in the background.

He was alone. For once he wished he had the screaming crowds and bandmates calling his name. But only the shrieking gulls filled his ears.

The dream seemed to go on for two lifetimes and the atmosphere felt staticky as the waves repeatedly crashed against the shores and hit the rocks. At times he could feel the soft kiss of saltwater sprinkling against his face.

He blinked for the first time in what felt like ages and suddenly his throne of bones began to collapse, he grasped at them panicked as he desperately tried to prevent himself from falling. Just as his footing slipped John shot up in his bed breathing heavily. He blinked to clear the bleariness that had settled from sleep and palmed his bedside table for his glasses and crudely wiped them on his sheets to clear the fingerprints before slipping them on. 

Suddenly the room was clear, and the sound of gulls was replaced with Sean’s squealing laughter. It helped John feel grounded in his brief moment of panic. He sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, Christ, what did he have to do today again? John ran his fingers through is knotted hair and slipped out of his bed. Right, he had to do several interviews to promote his new album and single that was just released then he had a dinner party. He grimaced at the thought of having to sit for several hours with a group of yuppies and pretend to enjoy their conversation.

As John walked through is bedroom he slipped on a pair of slippers and his dressing gown before stopping in front of his full length mirror. He gave his belly a firm pat, he’d lost a significant amount of weight in the last five years, mostly from depression, but it was still a small victory in his eyes. Atleast he had that going for him.

The bedroom door open and John found himself lured to the kitchen by the smell of syrup and pancakes. He flashed you a tight-lipped smile, “You’re early.” He greeted you.

You shrugged your shoulders, not looking up from the batter as you poured it into the skillet, “I know I thought my exam was going to take much longer than it did.” You said sheepishly. John had been gracious enough to accept you as his assistant and sometimes nanny. He was nice and the job helped you learn a lot about public relations and management, which is what you had hoped to do after you’d graduated from university. 

“Do you want some pancakes? Sean helped with them.” You said waving the ladle towards John.

He shrugged, still groggy from sleep. He really didn’t want any, but the way Sean stared at him with his big black eyes begging changed his mind. He sighed after his idle moment in thought and nodded his head, “I suppose I should see what the little chief has made for us.” He smiled and ruffled the kid’s hair.

After breakfast John rushed to get ready, “And you’re okay with taking Julian to piano lessons? Remember Sean still needs to finish that cough medicine from his cold earlier last week, and they can’t stay up past-” he rushed out his of things that he now only worried about due to having children.

You placed your hand on John’s arm and gave him a look, “John I’ve worked with you for almost three years, I think I can handle a day of babysitting. Julian will get to piano lesson on time and Sean will get his medicine; and don’t worry I won’t give them any sugar past 6pm.” John chose to ignore the little wink you gave Julian and Sean from the other side of the room.

He let out a sigh and his shoulders relaxed, “I know, I just” Worry I’m not good enough, his intrusive thoughts echoed in his mind and he shook his head before sharply inhaling, “I just worry about them, you know how it is.” You didn’t, you weren’t a parent. But you understood a little bit with where he was coming from.

You gave John a sympathetic nod and patted his shoulder, “Go on, you’re going to be late for the interview.” You said and turned him, pushing him towards the door.

A small smile settled on John’s face, it didn’t matter if he left for 8 hours or a full week, he still gave you the same reminders and the same list when Yoko or Cynthia couldn’t take the kids. John rushed out the door and you turned towards the boys and grinned at them. They were both nice, Julian had a wee bit of an attitude, but you chocked it up to him being in double digits while Sean was a curious and surprisingly even-tempered boy.

You made sure Julian got to and from piano lessons okay and wrestled with Sean to take the last dose of his medication, bribing him with some cookies. The remainder of the afternoon and evening you watched a movie with them, walked in the park, and drew pictures of the cats.

At lunch time John called to check in on the boys and to let you know it was going to be a late night, after reassuring him everything was fine you resumed your conversation with Sean about some fabulous story he was making up.

John sat at the dinner party, poking at his food and listening to his scientist friend tell them about a fancy new machine they got at work. The autoclave used immense amounts of heat and pressure to sterilize items, nothing survived the autoclave. In that moment John decided he saw some of his own likeness in the machine. As the voices turned to mumbles and John fell deep into thought he found that his own heart was harsh an inhospitable, much like the machine. That was why he was mostly alone in his 17-room apartment in New York City. His two wives couldn’t even make his home their home, and when he received a phone call from Cynthia or Yoko saying they were coming to pick the children up or to send them home on the morrows next fight he couldn’t say it struck him by surprise.

As the evening grew late you put Sean to bed and then an hour later you sent Sean to bed, much to your surprise neither of the boys fought with you tonight over why it was unfair they had different bedtimes or how they should be allowed to stay up later because it was summertime.

Infomercials from the television droned in your ears and lulled you to sleep as you sprawled out on the couch. A hand touching your shoulder caused you to jump and you blinked before John came into focus, “I’m home, you can stay the night in the guest room. It’s too late for you to go home alone.” He said kindly.

You rubbed your eyes and groggily sat up, “How did the meetings go today?” You asked after a deep yawn.

John’s face scrunched up, the way it did when he was frustrated and deep in thought, “It was alright.” He shrugged.

“What do you mean alright? You just released a new single, no one had an opinion on it?” You asked as you made your way through one of the many long hallways that made up his Dakota apartment.

John followed you, hoping for conversation and company, “I don’t know, I must have termites in me brain or something.” He frowned leaning against the door of the bathroom and watching you rummage through the cabinet for your spare toothbrush. Your movements moved on memory and you pushed aside the antacids and ibuprofen to get to the toothbrush you kept in the back of the medicine cabinet. The familiarity in your actions made John feel comforted.

“what do you mean?” You asked before you began brushing your teeth. You watched as John shifted, leaning against the door jam. He felt uncomfortable. You could tell.

He looked away from you, “I’m washed up I suppose.” He dug his shoe into the grout of the bathroom tile, “No one wants to listen to a former Beatle without the other three.” John wanted to open up to you but his body felt like an unstable bag of foam and bones and his ability to speak clearly vanished.

You spat out your toothpaste and wiped the remainder off with the towel that hung on the wall, “Oh come off it,” You scolded him, “You don’t mean that do you?”

Now it was your turn to follow John as he walked through the house, kicking his shoes off and tossing his jacket to the side, “That’s how it seems.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek, “Every time I talk to one of these hokey television people, they just rub it in me face how successful Paul or George are doing.” He frowned, “And I’m just sitting here, a one hit wonder. No songs in the last five years.” He tugged open the door to his wardrobe and pulled out sleeping cloths and tossed them onto the bed, “Paul’s got his 87 children, and his new better band. What do I have?” His cheeks started turning red and his thick brows furrowed.

You listened to him complain about his imperfections, he obviously needed to get them off his chest, “John,” You said softly interrupting his monologue, “You don’t mean that.” You bluntly said.

John looked away from you and huffed loudly, “First I get called the fat Beatle, then I get torn to shreds for saying one thing about Christianity and now I can’t even write a damn song anymore.” He angrily pulled his shirt over his head, “If I can’t even write a damn song what use am I?” He continued to mumble to himself and tug the thin and worn sleep shirt over his head and stuck his arms through the hole.

You walked forward and boldly grabbed John’s wrist as he reached for his lounge pants, “Stop it,” You said in the same tone of voice you used to scold one of the children, “I don’t want to hear you say bad things about yourself that aren’t true.” Your brows knit together as John turned to look at you.

His eyes narrowed to little slits as he studied your face. John felt as though the throne of fame he once sat upon was now crumbling, much like in his dream “You’re just an assistant, you don’t know anything.” He said coldly and shrugged you off.

You know he didn’t mean it, but the words stung, “Yeah, I’m just your assistant who watches your kids, and takes them to piano lessons, and does your laundry, and brings you take away when you are too sad to leave your room.” You shot back.

Your words hit John like a 10-ton truck, and he looked at you shocked, none of his assistants had ever been this bold before. They all cowered beneath the mighty John Lennon, but you were different. Your tongue was just as sharp as his, and he hated to admit it; but he liked the way your brows furrowed, and your eyes ignited with fire every time you argued back at him. He wanted to get a rise out of you, so he pushed you, “I pay you for it, don’t go around thinking you’re special. I could post your job in the paper and have hundreds of college kids lining up to work for me.” He hissed stepping towards you.

You were backed into a wall, literally and figuratively, you felt at a loss for words. John was right and you both knew it, what was the worst that could happen if you pushed back a bit? “Do it, I dare you.” You scoffed and moved to push past him, “Surprised anyone would like to work for a washed-up Beatle.” You mumbled under your breath knowing that he would hear you.

John brought his arm up and pushed you back into your spot between the wall and pushed his lips against yours. It was hard and messy; your teeth clicked together, and your noses knocked. It took a moment for you to realize what was happening until John roughly shoved his knee between your legs. You let out a whimper feeling him pull away and start leaving hot open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and trailing down to your neck. Your chest heaved against him and you swallowed thickly, and you desperately tried to focus as he continued to latch onto your neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin, “John.” You whined and ground yourself against his thigh.

He loved how you practically purred his name as you spoke. John’s hands pushed down on your hips, helping you as you slid against his thigh with wanton need. Your breathy sighs sent a shiver that crept down his spine and settled in his belly, “We can stop, just say it and I’ll stop.” He said rubbing his nose along your jaw.

You swallowed thickly, “Please don’t,” You didn’t want to go back now.

John pulled away and pulled you by your wrist before pushing you back onto the bed. You bounced back against the plush large mattress and laid against the pillows and watched as John knelt between your legs. He rubbed his hands along your thighs and kissed you’re the skin that had become exposed from your shirt riding up and pushed it up more. He sucked and left kitten licks as he exposed more of you stomach and chest, kissing between your breasts and sucking at the soft skin on the sides.

John peeled your shirt off and in one swift movement your breasts were exposed and your top and underclothes tossed aside. He dove against your neck again, deepening the marks he’d already left prior and adding new ones, nipping at the skin and inhaling your scent. You reached your fingers and laced them in his soft long hair. You’d always wondered how it felt and how it smelt. You found yourself burying your nose into the side of his head and breathing deeply. He smelled like stale smoke, the gum he always chewed as a nervous habit, and like his eucalyptus shampoo. It made your brain feel dizzy.

Your legs wrapped around John’s narrow hips and pulled him flush against you. He groaned feeling your heat against his awakening erection and ground against you. he felt like he was 18 again, sneaking home some blurry faced bird through the back door at Mimi’s after coming home too late. But this felt better, it wasn’t some random company for the night; it was you.

The assistant he hired on a whim because he needed someone to watch Sean while he flew to LA for recording, the same person who folded his laundry, the first person he told of his divorce from Yoko. Even in his dream as he stood alone on the edge of the cliff as his throne collapsed, he knew if he called your name you would come.

Now, here he was; swallowing your moans eagerly in his mouth and listening as you left ragged breathy gasps in his ear as he ground against you. His hands fumbled with the buttons on your pants before he finally gave up and pulled them open, the small button popping off and bouncing to the other side of the room. John kissed your hips and along the lower half of your stomach and it twitched.

You squirmed, looking down and seeing his intently focused face as he yanked down your underwear and jeans and carelessly tossed them aside. You suddenly became aware of your nakedness as you stared down at John, fully clothed in a loose sleep shirt and the pants he wore today. Your eyes trailed his body and you sat up, tugging at his shirt. Your movements were hesitant and less confident than his. John’s hands guided his shirt up and he tugged it off, throwing it to join the rest of your discarded cloths and you ran a hand along his chest. Admiring the freckles and imperfections that made him distinctly human. He pulled back and shrugged his pants off and resumed his spot between your legs, pushing you back down.

John kissed the sides of your knees and made his way up your thighs, “Is this okay?” He murmured.

You shivered feeling his lips moving against your legs and nodded your head, urging him to continue. The pit of nervousness that settled in your belly violently vanished as you felt John’s hot tongue swipe between your folds and lap at you, “Jesus Christ,” You gasped out.

You could feel John smirk as he hooked his arms under your legs and pulled you close. He spread you apart, groaning and rubbing your clit with his thumb, “Has anyone ever done this to you before?” He asked glancing up at you.

You swallowed thickly and shook your head, “N-no,” You choked out.

John hummed acknowledging your answer and licked at your core again, taking his time to trace lazy shapes around the bundle of nerves. It sent a tingle that rang through your whole body, from the tips of your toes to your fingers and you desperately reached for John’s hair to keep him in place.

Your toes curled and you pressed John’s face closer against you and bucked your hips, grinding against his face. He groaned and pressed back, pulling you closer against his face. The plug between your brain and mouth disconnected and your mind felt like it was swimming. The string in your stomach tightened as you continued to grind against John’s tongue as he lapped at you. Your soft breathy sighs climbed in pitch before it snapped and your hips squirmed against him. John firmly held you down and he harshly rubbed your clit. The burning sensation caused your toes to curl, your eyes to blissfully shut, and made your legs shake. Your hips tried to jerk away from his hand, but he held you down, watching you writhe, jaw hanging slightly ajar.

“St-op” You choked out and gripped his wrist, letting out a sob as he pushed you to your peak once again. Your chest heaved and your legs shook as it washed through you. You curled into yourself and your face scrunched up.

John left you no room to breathe as he pulled your face close to his and captured your mouth in an open mouth. His tongue explored your mouth and you could taste yourself. You gripped at his forearms and pulled him back down, thumbing his briefs and tugging them down. John smiled against your mouth as he wiggled out of them, twisting his legs and shifting before he finally gave up and broke your kiss for a moment to tug them the rest of the way down.

You reached to kiss him and frowned as he pulled away, settling between your legs and rubbing his cock teasingly between your wet folds before he pushed in. You gasped, feeling John stretch you as his pelvis pushed against the back of your legs. He sat there for a moment and his face reached up and cupped yours as he hovered just inches away from your face.

You brought your hand up and placed it on John’s, his thumb traced your bottom lip and he slowly moved his hip, pushing deep inside you. Your mouth fell open and you let out a soft moan. John eagerly took the opportunity to slip his thumb into your mouth and pushed harder into you as your lips wrapped around it.

John’s hands gripped your hips as his picked-up speed, pulling them against him and making your skin slap together. He fell over you and you wrapped your arms around him pulling his body close to yours. His head fell next to your shoulder and he messily kissed up your shoulder and up to the side of your mouth before you captured his. Your kiss lacked tact and was only motivated by wanton need for each other. Your teeth clanked harshly together, and you clung to John as though he would vanish from you in an instant.

John broke the kiss and latched onto your neck once again, nipping at the skin and leaving a lingering and dull pain as he continued his trail before settling near your ear. John’s grunts and soft breathy sighs were perhaps the best sound’s you’d ever heard. In that moment you didn’t care that your bodies stuck together with sweat, or that your head kept bumping against the headboard.

You found yourself reaching for John and whimpering as he pulled away and hooked his arms under your knees and brought them up, leaning onto you and pushing deeper inside you. Your back arched off the mattress as he pulled back and began to slowly rut deep inside you.

John clenched his teeth together and hissed, feeling your walls twitching around him as he continued his languid pace, “Please,” You said softly, your brows knit together and your eyes looking helplessly up at him.

His lips spread into a knowing smirk, “Please what?” His voice sounded ragged and strained as he continued to tease you.

“More please,” You barely recognized the whiny tone of your voice.

“Yeah?” He asked and harshly snapped his hips against yours, “Like that?” He asked snapping them again. The headboard lightly tapped the wall as John’s thrusts grew harder and faster while your staccato moans followed jointly. John watched you, your mouth hanging open and skin shiny from the combination of his and your sweat that coated your body. He felt more human in this moment than he’d felt in a long time.

John’s brows knit together, and his thighs clenched, he didn’t want this to end. You pulled his arms and pulled him close to you, not caring if it seemed like you were being clingy, “Come inside me,” You breathed out next to his ear.

John’s body seized up and he huffed out a shaky haggard breath before he came, holding you close against his body and riding out the high that fogged over his senses.

For a moment he laid on top of you, softening inside you but enjoying the intimate closeness the two of you shared in your post coital haze. John kissed your shoulder before pulling back and kissing your lips. He pulled back and the two of you smiled at each other.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

You couldn’t help but turn your head and breath out a small laugh before John rolled over to your side. The two of you laid on top of his wrinkled duvet staring at each other. You pursed your lips and remembered what you said earlier, “I didn’t mean it, what I said.” You said sheepishly looking away.

John’s expression was soft as he looked at you, “I’m sorry for what I said, I didn’t mean it either.” He said his arm now resting on your shoulder. He pulled you against his bare chest and you pushed your knee between his legs, entangling your bodies together as John held you.