#I’m at the doctors I should not be having inappropriate thoughts

[dearest-yeosang]

THOSE FUCKING GLASSES STAY ON

beer? 🥃

ac: nthndn_

[spicycinnabun]

“Steve, something is wrong with Christofern!” Eddie entered Steve’s room, cradling the potted plant in his arms.

He’d come home after work, ready to greet his bud-dy, but one look at him had made Eddie gasp. His leaves were shriveled up like sad little green raisins. Usually, they were puffed up like oversized Rice Krispies.

Christofern had been Robin’s, originally. It had been in a very sorry state on her windowsill before she’d left for college—a lot worse than it looked now, under Eddie’s care, thank you—and she’d told him, “I honestly can’t stand the thing. You keep it. It sheds worse than my aunt’s Great Pyrenees, and I’m tired of vacuuming. Just don’t throw it out, or Steve might murder you.”

And that had been that.

Christofern didn’t look like a typical house plant. He wasn’t a fern, which Steve kept reminding him. Steve was more practical. He didn’t give his plants names but called them by their designated labels.

Christofern was a Donkey’s Tail, or sedum morganianum, part of the succulent family. That term meant absolutely nothing to Eddie unless it was referring to a big bowl of pasta—he had no idea there was a whole plant category called delicious.

“But maybe he wants to be a fern, Steven,” he’d argued. “Ever thought of that? He doesn’t have to be a succulent just because he was assigned so at birth.”

“You’re fucking ridiculous,” had been Steve’s reply.

At first, Eddie had enlisted Steve’s help purely because he’d wanted his attention, and talking about plants was an easy as hell way to get Steve’s attention. Steve was a very passionate plant dad. But later, Eddie grew to love Christofern, and the trials and tribulations of learning how to care for him were almost like raising his own child.

Christofern had not just one but seven long, thickly spiked green tails. Seven tails. He reminded Eddie of a mutated dragon. He was adorable but occasionally grumpy and high-maintenance, like a certain someone Eddie knew. (Perhaps Christofern was more of a prince than a dragon—a dragon prince?)

If he didn’t get enough sunlight, his leaves shed, and he wilted. If he wasn’t rotated daily, he got yellow and sunburnt. And if he didn’t get enough water…

“I swear I watered him... uh, recently.” When had Eddie last watered him? Not the day before, but maybe Wednesday? Or had it been Tuesday? Shit. Eddie pouted. “I just gave him a drink now, anyway. It’s not too late, is it, Doctor Steve?”

He clasped his hands and watched Steve’s attentive eyes rove over his plant, waiting for the diagnosis.

“Eddie, how could you neglect Christofern like this? I should call Plant Protective Services.” Steve grabbed his hand, startling Eddie and his overactive heartbeat.

He took Eddie’s index finger and pushed it into Christofern’s soil right down to his second knuckle. It felt inappropriate. Eddie made a noise, appalled. “Steven, why are you making me violate Christofern?”

Steve ignored him. “What do you feel? The soil is soaked down there, isn’t it?”

Eddie wiggled his finger. It felt goopy. “Yes,” he admitted.

“You’ve overwatered it,” Steve chastised. “Now, the leaves might rot instead of rehydrating themselves. You’ve got to make sure you don’t drown it. Christofern only needs a moderate amount of water every two weeks, okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie said meekly. “I’m sorry, Christofern.”

Steve pulled his finger out of the soil and gave him a look bordering on amusement. “Leave him with me for a few days, and I’ll get him back to where he should be.”

“Thank you, Doctor Steve. How can I ever repay you?” Eddie imagined repaying Steve with his mouth, his tongue, his hands (after he washed the soil off)…

“You can clean the bathroom,” Steve said.

Eddie’s fantasy shattered. He whined. “Does it have to be that?”

“Yup.”

“Damn it, Steve, just make me suck your dick next time,” Eddie grumbled on his way out.

He missed the way Steve’s jaw dropped.

[taeyongdoyoung]

strawberries & sunshine

summary: your adorable best friend takes you to a picnic in a secluded spot but his intentions may be far from innocent... pairing: haechan x reader genre: smut, established relationship warnings: cnc/dubcon, corruption kink, innocence kink, pet names (angel, sweetie, my flower, etc.), mention of doctors/made-up sickness, manipulation, bf2l roleplay, inappropriate touching, rubbing, fingering, unprotected sex (pls dont), public sex (there is no one around but still), creampie, safeword is referenced but not used, swearing, degradation (reader is called slut), aftercare author's note: this concept has been haunting me for a while now and i finally gathered enough courage to put it into words 🥴 word count: 1.7k

Your best friend is the sweetest guy in the universe. Haechan is thoughtful, funny and always does kind gestures like bringing you flowers or your favourite chocolates without asking for anything in return. Despite being talkative himself, he always listens to you rant about what’s bothering you, checking to see if you want advice or simply emotional support.

Haechan is also very cute and pretty. Spending time with him truly energizes you and you trust him to have your best interests at heart 100%. Which is why you don’t think twice when he asks you to go on a picnic with him. You love eating and nature, but more importantly, you love being around Haechan, so you find no reason to worry.

When he first mentioned this idea, you assumed you two would go to a park inside the city. But now that the sunny day you chose for your picnic finally arrives, you are stunned that Haechan is driving you two out of the city, entering the mountain nearby.

“Woah, isn’t that a little far away?” you ask in amazement.

“Relax, angel, I’ll take you to the prettiest place,” Haechan responds.

You nod absentmindedly, not even a little bit concerned.

After what seems like forever, Haechan stops the car. He insists on carrying the picnic basket, as well as the blanket, and leads the way into the woods. You walk for around 15 minutes when you are eventually greeted by gorgeous green grass, surrounded by tall trees and birds chirping.

“It’s so lovely, Haechan! How did you find this?”

“I like exploring every once in a while,” he shrugs humbly.

You lay down the blanket, spread out the insides of the picnic basket and sit down, satisfied with the results. There are strawberries, little croissants, ham and cheese sandwiches, French macarons, some homemade kimbap and lemonade. It is so peaceful and quiet here, you really needed an escape from the big city.

You don’t talk much, too busy eating, enjoying the sweet strawberries, the bright sunshine and the lovely atmosphere.

“Oof, I’m so full,” you groan at some point.

“That’s the whole point of picnics, isn’t it?” Haechan chuckles.

“So true!” you laugh.

You two put the remaining food back into the basket and place it on the grass, making space for you to lie down on the blanket.

“To be honest, I’m still kinda hungry,” Haechan murmurs bashfully.

“What? Why didn’t you say so before we put the food away?” you exclaim in surprise.

“Not hungry for anything inside the basket.”

“What do you mean?” you ask innocently.

“I’m not just hungry, I’m also in a lot of pain.”

“Huh? Should we go back to the city for you to see a doctor?” you are instantly concerned for your friend’s well-being.

“Oh, I’ve talked to many doctors already and they all said the same thing. There is only one cure possible for my sickness,” Haechan explains patiently.

“Well, what is it? If there’s anything I can do to help you…” you offer without thinking.

“There is, actually. But do you promise to do anything for me? You’re my best friend, right? You wouldn’t want me to be in pain?”

“Of course not, Haechan! I promise I’ll try to help you but you gotta tell me what kind of pain are you talking about?”

“How about I show you instead?” Haechan’s lips tilt in the slightest of smirk. You are confused by the change of his expression, when he grabs your hand and puts it on his heart. “First, it hurts here.” Then, he moves it so that your hand is now placed on top of his cock. “But it also hurts here.”

“Oh, Haechan,” you sympathize with him. Truly. “This is so strange but I think I might have the same sickness?”

You take hold of his hand and place it on your breasts.

“It hurts me here, as well,” you blink at him softly, then move his hand to your clothed pussy so he touches it through your floral dress. “And here.”

“My angel, I had no idea you were also suffering from this cruel sickness. Do you think maybe…we could be each other’s cure?”

“I don’t know, Haechan…Isn’t it wrong to feel this way?” you express your doubts.

“Oh no, sweetie, it’s completely normal, at least that’s what the doctors said. If we help each other, the pain will disappear.”

“Well, then I guess it’s for the best,” you concede. “The hurt is becoming quite uncomfortable.”

“Same here, my flower. I think we should hurry if we want to cure ourselves of this terrible illness.”

Haechan wastes no more time trying to convince you and climbs on top of you, pressing you down. He spreads your legs apart with one hand, touching and brutally rubbing you through your panties.

“Hyuck, n-no, this isn’t right,” you cry out and try to push him away.

“Shh, my sweet, I’m just trying to cure you first. Don’t you want it?”

“N-no, I’m not sure anymore, please stop,” you whine helplessly but he is too strong to fight off.

“It’ll be over before you know it, just stop struggling, my dear,” Haechan assures you and continues to attack your pussy with his hand. Eventually, he tears your panties apart, sticking his long fingers inside of you.

“P-please, you don’t ha-have to do this,” you try your best to resist but your damn pussy betrays you, squelching noises revealing your juices all for your best friend to see and hear. You would be embarrassed if you aren’t so turned on right now. You come around his fingers so quickly and powerfully that you are unable to think clearly any longer.

“You can help me now, no? I healed you, so now it’s your turn to give me the cure,” Haechan tries to talk you into this.

“I don’t know…” you shake your head. “Maybe there’s another way.”

“There isn’t. Trust me, okay?” Haechan insists. “You promised…”

His reminder, paired with his soft yet cruel smile is more than enough to convince you. But you say nothing as he unbuckles his belt, lowers his boxers and enters you in one swift movement.

“N-no, it h-hurts, Hyuck, p-please,” you whimper around him, as he goes deeper than you could ever imagine, stretching you out to your absolute limits.

“Take it, you slut, going alone into the woods with a guy, acting as if you had no idea what’s gonna happen to you,” Haechan’s words are so unkind, so unlike the sweet guy you’re used to seeing.

“I didn’t know, I swear,” you insist, pushing against his chest with your tiny hands.

“Shut the fuck up,” he laughs meanly, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head.

“N-no, this is wrong, H-hyuck,” you sniffle pitifully. “We’re best friends, we shouldn’t do things like that.”

“Well, best friends ought to help each other no matter what. So, take it like the good little slut you are and cure me of this sickness you caused,” Haechan keeps fucking into you, making you feel so full and satiated.

“Am not a slut,” you argue.

“Oh yeah? Then, why didn’t you wear a fucking bra, huh?” Haechan asks, letting go of your wrists and sliding his hand under your dress, grabbing your tits roughly.

“F-for you,” you admit shamelessly. “Wanna be your good girl, Hyuck.”

“Too bad, because I wanna turn my good girl into a slut,” he snickers at you, spilling his seed inside of your pussy. You come around him without thinking and are foolish enough to think he’s done with you. Taking his cock out and using his fingers to fuck the cum threatening to spill out back into your pussy. You are too exhausted to fight back but you do your best anyway.

“W-what are you doing?”

“Making sure the cure is permanent,” Haechan explains calmly as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.

Then, without bothering to ask, he flips you around so that you are on your knees, face down, and slips back inside of you smoothly.

“N-no, that’s enough!” you scream in frustration.

“It’s enough when I say it’s enough,” Haechan grunts loudly.

“Nngh, aren’t we cured already?”

“What are you talking about? The disease is only spreading further,” Haechan laughs maniacally at this point.

“Haechan, please, stop, I can’t…” you cry and plead and whimper, again and again.

“You know what to say if you really want me to stop,” Haechan reminds you. But when you say nothing, he continues using your body, right there in the middle of the woods, too far away from society, where no one could possibly hear you asking for help, where you are left entirely at your best friend’s mercy.

Eventually, he exhausts himself after cumming too many times, inside of you, on your back, on your belly, and all over the poor blanket. Haechan reaches his hand out to get water from the picnic basket, thoughtfully giving it to you. After you are both done drinking, he does his best to clean you up and make sure you are...well, alive. Taking a deep breath, he lies down next to you, enveloping you in a warm and soft hug.

“Was that too much?” he wants to know and brushes a piece of hair behind your ear gently. You melt under his touch, just like always.

There he is. Your sunshine boyfriend is back.

“No, it was perfect. So much better than what we talked about previously,” you reply honestly.

“I wasn’t too mean to my baby, was I?” Haechan needs to make sure.

“Just the right amount of mean,” you laugh. “Did I play the innocent angel part well enough?”

“Too well,” Haechan praises your acting skills. “Maybe because you were my innocent best friend back when we first met.”

“And look where that got me,” you sigh. “Miles away from home, overflowing with cum, no one to save me. Such a tragic fate.”

“Oh, come on, don’t pretend you don’t like it,” Haechan rolls his eyes.

You lean in to kiss him softly.

“Loved every minute,” you admit. Then, you grab his chin firmly. “But next time, I’ll be the one corrupting you.”

The End

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet Cute - Law's Story - 9

Source for pic

The Great Pretender 9

Word Count: 4512

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Law is a soft dom; you have bratty tendencies (not all the time); voice kink; praise kink; cursing; very suggestive behaviour and innuendo from the start; sexual tension; teasing; so much flirting; romance; slow-burn; fluff; slight angst; mature audiences (though explicit NSFW moments will be properly tagged on the chapter); possessive Law; protective Law; soft Law; teasing Law; manipulative Doflamingo; inappropriate Doflamingo; fake relationship trope; only one-bed trope; reader has some anxiety issues; reader is a control freak and perfectionist; modern day AU; Mention of ex mentally abusive relationship;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Law (your father's doctor) start to build a flirty friendship because of your father’s procedure. So much so that when he’s invited to Baby 5’s wedding (his cousin), he asks you to be his date. His uncle Doflamingo - who is filthy rich - is very adamant on finding a suitable wife for him. Seeing as he wants to avoid that, he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend.

Masterlist |Chapter 8| | |Chapter 10🔞|

Your soft, steady breaths are like music to Law’s ears. After shedding all the tears you had in you for that bastard, you were so tired that you immediately fell asleep, curled up against his chest.

Where you belong.

Law closes his eyes tightly, trying to gather his thoughts. This was all supposed to be fake and he couldn’t hold his feelings together for one freaking weekend. He knew it was dangerous when he asked you to do this, he knew that sometimes boundaries blur and bend and things that weren't supposed to happen, happen. Like it obviously did.

He had been so rattled by his uncle - he should have foreseen that he was going to use Monet, it was so obvious! - so insecure about your feelings, and about himself, about how he was believing every word out of Doffy’s mouth and distrusting you. Knowing you were there for him but not knowing for sure if you would leave him for more. Just like Monet had. 

He let himself lose control, and his feelings for you stirred violently like a storm. You are so much more than just a ruse for him. You are special. You make him feel things he long forgot how to feel, to see life in colour again, instead of just black and white. You make him plan for a far-off future and want to be more. More than just a doctor, more than part of the Donquixote family. More.

And he almost threw that away just to hear you say that you belong to him…

“I’m yours, all yours Law.”

You’d said it. Without the signal. The words had come out of your mouth and they rang so sweet in his ears. He’d been thinking about it, even before he asked you to be his fake girlfriend. Of how it would feel to have you by his side, to call you truly his. But he’d soon forgotten that fleeting dream. He didn’t have girlfriends. He wasn’t built for relationships, that dream had been shattered a long time ago. 

Yet, now, watching you sleep peacefully in his arms, feeling the pang of hurt and the slow spread of the embers of anger, after hearing you speak about the relationship you had with your ex, realisation hits him like a blow to the nose.

He really wants this - you!

Everything you have to offer him: every smile, every taunt, every giggle and glint in your eyes. But he also wants your broken pieces, your sadness, your sorrow, your guilt and your shame. 

He’s a genius. He can help put you back together, support you on your path until you become stronger and sturdier. By his side. 

A soft whine and a hiccup escape your lips as you take a deep breath, your body still tired and reacting to all the tears you’ve shed, and Law pulls you closer to him. 

He can’t help but notice how well you fit into his arms, as if you were moulded just for him.

Moulded. Fuck.

This is what’s keeping him awake, ultimately. It’s not just you in his arms. It’s the fact that you spent four years of your life in a fucked-up relationship with an asshole who didn’t appreciate you. Worse than that, he made you feel small, unimportant and disposable.

Law feels like punching something.

He uses surgery hours as an outlet for his frustration and anger. There is something about the steady tick-tock of the clock, the light beeping and buzzing of the machines, the ventilator breathing air into a patient's lungs and his steady hands making precise surgical cuts. Something that climbs the borders of saving lives and transcends him.

It's a way to control his own life, to bring steadiness and calm into an otherwise chaotic mind. Because as cool and collected Law always appears, inside there's a raging beast waiting to be unleashed. 

And the sight of your tears, your vulnerability, your broken - shattered - mind makes the beast roar and rattle its cage, demanding to be let out, clamouring for blood. 

Law shuts his eyes even tighter, smothering away the remnants of fury forcing their way out of his system. He places his nose near your head and inhales your shampoo, a scent so characteristically yours that does more to cage the beast inside than ten straight hours of surgery ever could. 

He realises you didn't tell him the name of your ex. Law can very well add two and two together, so it's quite clear that he knows, or that you think he might know who your ex is. You've let slip some details: his father is a powerful man and owns a big company, though you didn't tell him what kind of business the company is in. You said he frequented a lot of events, so he's from an influential family or, at least, has a lot of money. He's from Grand Line City, though that fact is basically useless since it's an overly populated, bustling city. 

This doesn't narrow it down much. Assholes with a lot of money are a dime a dozen. He doesn't even have to go too far, Doflamingo is just in the other wing of the mansion. 

With a sigh that screams finality and closure, Law lets it go. If you didn't mention it, it’s because he doesn't need to know, or you don't want him to. Both perfectly valid reasons. He also didn't want you to know about Monet. What a fucking mess. Now you know and your purpose didn't waver one bit.

As sleep finally claims him, the last thought on Law's mind is that his trust in you wavered, but it's now built up so high that he's willing to bet everything he owns on how you won't disappoint him. Not even if Doflamingo brings his big guns. 

Whatever they may be. 

-*-

You don’t dislike mornings. They might not be your favourite thing in the world, but they aren’t the worst. Sometimes you like to spend a few extra minutes in bed, lazing around because there is nowhere softer than your bed. 

Except today you aren’t in your own bed. 

Yet, you have never felt safer or more content than at this exact moment. Even without opening your eyes, your brain clicks into place and you know why. Law. You remember him holding you, though you don’t really remember falling asleep. 

With a contented sigh, you open your eyes and see a pair of soft amber orbs gazing at you. He seems so bare without his stern gaze, it’s a sort of vulnerability - you notice - but not like the unhinged one he showed you last night. This vulnerability doesn’t stem from pain or sorrow… it’s… affection?

“Morning.” He whispers and you smile.

You don’t remember being this entangled with him when you fell asleep. You only had your head on his chest now, it would appear that sometime during the night, you shifted and draped your leg over his, arms hugging his torso tightly.

You should let go.

There’s an annoying voice in your head telling you this is wildly inappropriate, that it’s crossing some kind of unspoken barrier, yet he doesn’t seem uncomfortable with the proximity and you’re experiencing bliss. So you don’t move. Not yet, at least.

“Morning.” You say back to him. Your voice is still throaty and scratchy and, for a moment, you can’t remember why it’s like this, until images of Ichiji flash through your mind, erasing your smile and darkening your gaze.

Law shifts slightly and you think you’re overstaying your welcome so you start to move. Instead, he pulls you tighter, his hand tipping your chin to keep you looking at him. “It’s all in the past, okay?” His fingers climb and graze your ear, where your earring would be if you were wearing one. The signal. “You’re with me now. I’m the only one allowed in your mind, sweetheart, understand?”

He uses that velvety voice, laced with a hint of authority and you clench your thighs instinctively. He might’ve said that for the purposes of your fake relationship, but he’s right. Ichiji is past and he has no more right to claim space in your mind. 

“Use your words, you know I like to hear you speak.” The drawl in his voice is more pronounced in the morning, you notice, raspier, sexier. Just another fact to add to the never-ending list of things you now know about Trafalgar Law. What will you do with all that information when you inevitably part ways?

You take a deep breath, blush and look to his chest before opening your mouth, but the words remain frozen in your throat when his whisper tickles your forehead. “Eyes on me, sweetheart.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck! It’s too soon for these games! And you're pressed so close to him that you’re sure he can feel the way your nipples hardened at his gentle command. Yet you’re compelled to do as he says so you look up, lips parted, small, panted breaths escaping them and flushed cheeks. There’s a hint of something in his gaze, something darker than lust, bordering on obsession, but you dismiss it quickly.

“I understand, Law.” You reach and use the signal in his ear, just a faint touch, but he doesn’t stop your hand, so you let it fall down and trace the curve of his perfect jawline, then your ghost of a touch moves to his neck and collarbone. You see his throat bob up and down and the fact that you might be affecting him exhilarates you, so you press on. Your fingers trace down his T-shirt and follow the shape of his pecs, lingering on the nipple and he hums low, not quite a warning, he must be enjoying your touch. “I will only be thinking about you…” Your eyes drop to the way his chest heaves slightly and you catch your lower lip with your teeth to contain a satisfied sound.

The hand he has on your back climbs up and he entangles his fingers in your hair, gripping them and tilting your head gently so you can return your gaze back into his eyes. You let out a gasp, they’re dark with desire. “And what will you be thinking about, exactly? What will I be doing in that pretty little head of yours?”

Your leg is still entangled with his and you have to fight your desire to shift and straddle him, but your fingers keep going lower. They trace his abs now and they’re as firm as a wall. Your head starts to fill with deep fantasies about what Law could be doing to you in your head, but they’re all so real and consuming, and you’re both in such an already vulnerable position, that you know any spark can ignite this flame between you, so you swallow hard and sigh. 

“Kissing. You’re kissing me.” That should be safe enough, right?

Wrong.

Law grabs your hand just as you - unconsciously - hook a finger on the waistband of his pants. Boundaries, boundaries! Stupid decision! Yet he doesn’t say anything, he simply rolls you over, his knee slotted between your legs, just as you were before, and he raises both your hands above your head. His eyes devour your surprised expression as a lone gasp leaves your lips. 

“You know what to do to get me to kiss you, don’t you, sweetheart?”

Beg.

“Please, Law…” You don’t even try to fight it. He’s watching you with hungry eyes, hair unkempt into perfection, a sleepy, dreamy look on his features and you need him to kiss you.

“Please what?” He leans in, his lips brushing softly against yours, and your hands twitch instinctively, but he’s holding them in place. His other hand presses slightly against your neck, feeling your pulse racing under his thumb.

“Kiss me! Please kiss me, Law, pl-mmmph.” He swallows your pleas as his lips crash against yours.

You can feel him pressed against your thigh, and the thought makes you moan softly into his kiss. He uses that opening to take your tongue in his and deepen the kiss. It’s desperate, it’s lustful, it’s-...

Knock, knock, knock.

Over.

Law grunts and rolls off you, recovering his voice way faster than you ever could. “Who is it?” However, you can detect a hint of impatience and annoyance. 

“It’s me!” Cora answers and Law sighs. He gets up, slightly adjusts his pants, and, checking back to see if you’re covered, opens the door with a scowl. “Morning, Law! I’m so sorry to bother you two so early, I really am!” He does sound sorry. “Baby 5 wanted to let everyone know that she moved the brunch one hour earlier because she has games planned for after and she doesn’t want anyone to be late. Especially you two.” He lowers his voice. “She loved your girlfriend, Law! We all did.”

You blush and smile to yourself. You must be doing something right, then. Law’s family liked you. Well… maybe not Doflamingo yet, but you don’t need him to like you, you just need him to leave Law alone. 

When Law speaks, his voice is warmer. “Sure thing, Cora. We’ll get ready soon. Thank you for letting us know.”

“Anytime! Ouch!” You hear the sound of glass tinkering and something crashing before Law sighs and Cora says ‘I’m okay! It was just a vase!’ 

When Law closes the door, you’re already up and heading towards the bathroom. “I’ll be ready soon.” You state before closing the door. 

Slumping your body forward, you grasp the porcelain of the sink, taking rapid, shallow breaths. What is going on? You two keep using the signal and saying things like ‘If this were real…’ yet, you’re thinning the borders of the boundaries, mixing emotions and lust and sorrow from your past. You should stop.

For both your sakes, you should stop.

Perhaps you should not touch each other outside the pretence in front of Law’s family. Because he kisses you with such ferocity that it’s as if you’re his. Like you belong to him, though you’re just friends. But are you really just friends?

This tension and attraction keep building and expanding and there’s only so much space to take before it explodes, consuming you both. 

And by all that is sacred, how you wish to be consumed by Trafalgar Law. You want to give everything of yourself to him, to drown in his golden gaze, to be lost inside his kiss, to feel all of him within you. 

Could it be so wrong, if you gave in to your desires? You’re sure he wants you too… It's mutual. But… would it be too complicated, emotionally?

You sigh and start to work on your morning routine. You’ll just have to get through this weekend without entangling yourself further. Once you’re both out of this stifling, constricting environment, you’ll deal with whatever it is you share.

Or might share.

-*-

As with dinner last night, brunch and the afternoon games require a semi-casual fit and you select another cocktail dress. The rehearsal dinner is formal, though, so you and Law will have to change before dinner time. 

“You look stunning.” Is his usual compliment, one you should already be accustomed to but, as you become more aware of the growth of your feelings for this man, the more flustered you get. “You don’t have to worry, I won’t let Doffy mess with your head today.” Law seems much more composed this morning. Maybe after the initial shock of interacting with his uncle again - and now that Doffy doesn’t have the same ammunition as he did yesterday - Law won’t let himself be rattled by his provocations so easily. 

“Maybe I should say the same?” You smile and he grunts back an agreement. “So, brunch and games? What kind of games?”

Law sighs as you both exit your room, his hand holding yours, just as he did yesterday. Yet, today, you can’t help a tingle of electricity from climbing up your arm at his touch. ‘Tell me you’re mine.’ You have to shake your head to get rid of your thoughts. You’ll never be able to forget those words. 

Just four words alone can undo you. 

“Who knows what games… Baby 5 is all about internet trends and Pinterest aesthetics. I’m sure it’s something boring, dumb and flashy.” You giggle at his silliness as you both descend the steps. Baby 5 told you yesterday that more guests would be spending the day at the mansion as part of the wedding festivities, so you’re already expecting more people, about a dozen more or so, as is usual in rehearsal dinners. But as soon as you step outside to the garden, you gasp. There have to be about fifty more people than yesterday. It already feels like a small wedding. 

Does Law know all of these people? 

Pressure starts to build in your temples as you think about all the people you are now required to fool. What if you can't do it? What if someone knows Law from childhood and asks you a question you don't know how to answer? Can one question alone crumble this facade?

Biting your lower lip and squeezing Law's hand tighter, you start to mumble about Law's education growing up, and private tutors, as well as all the extracurricular activities he took in high school. Will it come up? Probably not, but it's better to be prepared and-... 

“Relax.” Law's soothing voice against your ear makes you whimper and shiver. He startled you since you were so deep in thought, but your reaction wasn't about the jump scare. It was the tingling that's still warming your skin, the electricity that shook you to your core. How are you going to survive two and a half more days of this tension? 

You take a deep, steadying breath as Law squeezes your hand back. “You've got this, sweetheart.”

“We’ve got this.” You correct him and he chuckles. 

As you delve deeper into the party, you get a good look around. The garden is huge and luscious, with abundant greenery and beautiful flowers. The white and golden tents where the rehearsal dinner and the eventual wedding will be held tomorrow, cast an ethereal feeling over the scene, a sort of fairytale-like feeling. Brunch is being served outside the tents, on a small patio. There are rows of tables with every food imaginable and your stomach rumbles just by looking at it. 

“Hungry?” Law asks with a chuckle. 

“Yeah.” You whisper. “It's been an eventful night. I could eat!” Crying makes people hungry, apparently. 

You and Law make your way to the buffet and fix yourselves a plate, all the while Law keeps introducing you to people: family friends, investors, business partners… He knows everybody. It's overwhelming. The way he handles these people makes you wonder why he doesn't want to follow in Doflamingo’s footsteps. He'd be wonderful at it, he's a natural, though you notice he seems a bit stiffer than his usual self. As a doctor, he’s so much more at ease and it dawns on you that it’s most likely because he loves what he does. 

Law's speaking with an important investor a few feet away from you, and you find yourself staring at him, a strawberry dangling over your lips as you take him in: tanned skin, golden eyes, sharp features and beautiful dark hair. Fuck. He's perfect. You bite the strawberry and suck, your eyes darting to his lips and thinking about the smouldering soul-shattering kisses you shared yesterday and this morning. 

“Oh, to be a strawberry, right now.” You swallow hard and stifle a cough, having been brought out of your fantasy world by a whisper near your ear. A cold, shiver-inducing whisper. 

“Doflamingo, sir!” You gasp, trying to regain your composure and shake away the cold chills that linger on your skin. 

“What was that pretty head of yours thinking about so seriously, princesa?” He hums low, his figure hunkering down over you, making you feel small and trapped. But you are intent on not letting him get to you. 

Squaring your shoulders you train your smile back onto your lips. “I was just observing your nephew, sir. It's like he's in his element speaking with investors. He has a lot of business savvy.” Your smile softens as Law locks eyes with you, his gaze hardening as he sees Doffy next to you. 

Doffy's chuckle is cold and calculated. “Cariño, I know he's perfect for the job. He just never wanted it. Maybe you can convince him?” Your head whips to the side as your eyes bore into his. You can see the red glinting behind his sunglasses and it's like it's piercing straight into your soul. 

“I would never.” You relish in the way Doffy's smile falters. He was probably waiting for you to cater to his needs, trying to please him. “Law is a gifted surgeon, a wonderful doctor and very passionate about his job. He might be good with business matters, as he's good with everything he sets his mind to, but it's not his calling.”

Law approaches and catches the ending of your speech. His hand slithers and takes hold of your waist pulling you against him. The way he smiles at you warms your heart and you lose yourself in his gaze once more. 

You are so doomed. You're in way too deep. Going back to being friends after this is going to destroy you. 

“You're right, sweetheart, as I've told my uncle repeatedly.” Law's smile as he rests his eyes on his uncle is as surgical as his operations. To his credit, Doffy's is as intimidating as the man himself. Somehow you have the perception that you're standing in the midst of a battle from a war that started long ago. And you feel very out of place. 

“Ah, indeed nephew, you have. But we shall discuss that matter further some other time.” He places his hand near his heart again as his gaze pins you down and you shiver in Law's arms. “Princesa, you're welcome to join me at my table.” He picks up a bowl of strawberries and raises his eyebrow with a lustful smirk. 

Your face flushes so hard that you fear you might combust on the spot. All you trust yourself to do is shake your head, but Law's hand is already pulling you away. “Thank you Doffy. We politely decline.”

-*-

“There's so many people here today…” You murmur as Law pulls you by the waist, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. “And they keep staring. People don't really expect to see you with a girl, Law!”

Law grunts and keeps pulling you until he finds a small empty table where you both sit with your food plates. 

“That's not it, sweetheart.” His voice seems strained. 

“What's not it?” You flush under the scrutiny of some investors you saw Law speak with earlier and fidget with your hair. Is there something wrong?

“They're not looking because they don't expect to see me with a girl nor because there's something amiss with your appearance.” He brushes your hand aside, releasing the hair you managed to trap back in your hairdo to how it was. “It's because you're breathtaking.” He sounds annoyed as he says it, and yet you still blush deeper. 

“Shut up, Law.” You sound like a petulant child. But a flattered one. “You're wrong.”

“Sweetheart, I'm never wrong. And these people should learn that staring at what's mine comes with a cost.” He growls as his eyes squint and you can't help a flutter from twisting your stomach. There's that word again: mine. You should feel angry at him for being this possessive, instead, it makes you feel safe and protected. Like he can keep all that can harm you away from you. 

“I'm yours, Law?” You can't help the words from fleeing from your mouth. 

‘I'm yours, Law, all yours.’ You'd said the words. 

The corner of his lips curls as his piercing eyes pin you to the spot. “You are for the weekend.”

Push, keep pushing so you can lose control. 

“How about after?”

His throat bobs up and down and he takes a long gulp of his coffee. “We’re supposed to go our own way. Go back to being friends.” The strain in his voice is nothing compared to the clenching in your chest. 

Push some more. Push. Even if your heart is clenching, your mind keeps telling you to go on. 

“So you won't mind if I date another man?” Law's coffee cup almost shatters with the force he bangs it against the table. Your lips part to let out an amused gasp as the flutter in your belly increases tenfold. 

To his credit, after a dark shadow passes across his eyes, Law quickly regains his composure. “Let's talk about that after this weekend, shall we?” The slight sharpness of the usual velvet of his voice doesn't go unnoticed by you. 

Can you push a little more until he gives you what you want? 

But what do you want, really? To see how far you can push him until he makes his claim? Until he pins you somewhere and claims your lips with his? It's embarrassing how much you want to get lost in him again, how easily you'll fold if he so much as looks at you a certain way. 

This hold he has on you is scary. And so exciting. “Why not now, Law? I could start networking…” You glance at the guests with a glint in your eye, successfully bothering Law so much that he starts fidgeting with the buttons of his shirt. “So many choices.”

You are still finishing your sentence when Law hooks his hand beneath your chair and drags it all the way next to his with a very loud screech. He only stops when his face is inches from yours. “Say that again, sweetheart. Say it while looking right into my eyes.” He sounds a little bit unhinged, maybe you’ve pushed far enough. 

Or have you? 

You touch his earring lightly while a smirk graces your lips. “I'm just stating the obvious, there are so many single-...” You don't finish your sentence because his hand tangles in your hair, pulling you and capturing your lips with his and it isn't in the innocent way he pecks you when in public. It's in the very fiery, soul-shattering way you’re already growing addicted to. 

“Law…” You whisper when he finally lets go, after Baby 5 and some of the younger guests start to cheer you on, your ears as red as a tomato. 

“Gotta let them know you're taken, sweetheart, they keep staring.” Your lower lip is still tingling and burning from the contact as he smirks at you. 

Then he continues to eat the food on his plate as if he hasn't just rocked your world in front of all the guests. 

And he didn't use the signal. 

-*-

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @jqperi @rainbow2312 @ren-ni

|Chapter 10🔞|

[f1girliefics]

Too Far

Mick Schumacher x Reader

Summary: When dating him causes rage in some fans, they forget where the line is.

When the news of Mick and you dating came out, you expected the rumours, you were ready for the hate and the comments.

What you weren’t ready for is the crazy fans who decided to harass you in public.

It started off with small things.

When you went shopping, things were missing from your cart. Then people started to push you. You thought it was by mistake but then you realized, it was all a game to them.

Videos on TikTok started to go around, it was almost like a challenge to them.

Who could push you more?

Mick mentioned to you that it wasn’t okay and you didn’t have to deal with the harassment, but you brushed it off.

“Don’t worry, it will die down after a while. You know how people are, they will move on to the next thing.”

He knew you were right. 

But then, it got out of hand. So much so that you fell and got injured.

The video went viral before you could even get some help.

You were rushed to a hospital with a broken ankle and twisted wrist.

Your boyfriend called you, furious. 

“This has to stop!” he texted. “I’m on my way, almost there.” came another text, then. “I’m so sorry that this happened. I love you!” 

Before you could text back, the door opened and he came in.

“How are you feeling?” he asked as he saw the cast on your leg and the wrap on your arm.

“I’m good. The idiots pushed me on a slippery floor and as I fell my leg got stuck under the shelf and I fell on my wrist. How I can press charges?”

“I saw the video, Lando sent it to me. It’s going viral and the public opinion is with you. Everyone’s saying how that is just taking it too far and how they should be ashamed. Someone even found out the name of the girls and even after they took off the video, someone reported them.” he let out a long sigh. “I was so worried about you. I’m glad you are safe.”

“I agree, this has gone too far. Light pushing I can handle but breaking my leg… too much. Thank you.” you smiled at him and pulled him in for a short kiss before the doctor came and let you leave.

You arrived home and ate something while Mick was on his phone.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m making a post. I need to set the boundaries and I can’t just let this one go.”

“I understand and agree… just be… kinda nice.” you said as he nodded and continued typing.

‘My Dear Fans,

I’m sure many of you are aware of what happened today. I kept silent out of respect for my girlfriend, but I can no longer do so. 

She got seriously hurt today and I’m honestly surprised it didn’t happen before.

I do appreciate all my fans but I think we all can agree that this is seriously not okay.

I decided to take a break from social media and spend my time with my girlfriend as now she will need someone to help her with tasks.

I hope we all can learn from this.’

You gave Mick a nod and he posted it.

He spent the entire day helping you with anything. He ordered food and even offered to help you eat.

“My other hand is just fine!”

“But I want to help.” he argued and you couldn’t help but laugh.

He wanted you to smile and laugh to forget everything that happened.

But later that night, while he was sleeping, your mind began to wonder.

All your insecurities and fears came to the surface. 

You knew you shouldn’t blame yourself. But you were angry that you let things get out of hand and it got to this point.

You were used to the interviewers, the inappropriate questions, and people shouting at you.

But this was a new low.

You were just happy to have Mick by your side.

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[lovezbrownies]

Mood swings. (Yandere!Bully x GN!Reader.) Chapter 2

Lauren's Masterlist - General Masterlist

Synopsis: Lauren is pregnant, you're the parent. Now you live with Lauren, trying to navigate the new parent life before your baby comes.

Second part to this

Warnings: Pregnancy, mood swings, possessive stuff, obsessivestuff, the usual.

“I’m pregnant.”

Lauren's voice, though quiet, echoed like a bomb in the room. The weight of her words hung in the air, sinking into your chest, leaving a cold, empty space where your thoughts used to be. Your gaze locked with hers, both of you frozen in the moment—her eyes wide, pupils dilated with fear, as if she had just admitted the worst secret of her life. Your stomach churned, confusion and disbelief swirling inside you like a storm. Did she just say what you think she said?

“H-Huh??” The words stumbled out of your mouth, a mix of bewilderment and denial. “What—what are you saying?” Your pulse raced as you stared at Lauren, your girlfriend—were you even officially dating? You hadn't even gotten to the point where you labeled whatever this was. And now, now she was saying she was pregnant?

Your mind tried to process the implications, but they felt too big, too overwhelming. She’s 18! You’re 18! Who—who in the world could she have been with for this to happen? Certainly not you. The thought hit you with a strange, disorienting weight. The denial wrapped around your mind like a security blanket, trying to shield you from the reality that was quickly closing in. But that shield? It was paper-thin, crumbling under the pressure of the truth.

Lauren looked equally terrified, her fingers gripping the fabric of her jeans like a lifeline. Her breath was uneven, her chest rising and falling too quickly as if she was waiting for you to react, to explode, to say something that would either make or break her fragile world. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to respond with anything coherent.

If she’s telling the truth—and you know deep down that she is—what are you supposed to do? Your mind raced with every possible consequence. How will your parents react when they find out you’ve impregnated someone at 18? How are you supposed to react? Are you expected to suddenly strap on the armor of adulthood, get a job, and support a child when you can barely take care of yourself? And with Lauren’s lifestyle—luxury, excess, the constant need for the finer things in life—you’d need at least four jobs just to scratch the surface of the financial burden.

The weight of responsibility loomed, suffocating you. You had never even thought about parenting, not seriously. You’ve never even been good at taking care of anything more than yourself. And now, a baby?

Suddenly, the silence was shattered by sobs. Lauren’s face crumpled, her composure dissolving as tears streamed down her cheeks. The mascara that lined her eyes ran in dark streaks, creating a haunting, tragic picture of guilt and fear. “I’ham so sorrryy!!” she wailed, her voice breaking as her emotions crashed over her like waves.

You were about to step forward when a cold, steady voice behind you cut through the air like a knife. “You should comfort her.” You jumped, startled by the sudden presence of Julie, Lauren’s mother, who had entered the room without you noticing. Her tone was so emotionless, so analytical, that it almost felt inappropriate for the situation. Julie’s icy demeanor always unnerved you. She was a brilliant scientist, sharp as a blade and just as unfeeling, but her coldness was notorious—especially when it came to her daughter.

“D-Doctor McCanister!” You stammered, caught off guard by her calm presence in such a chaotic moment.

“You should comfort her,” Julie repeated, her eyes flickering to her daughter before returning to you. “Pregnant women are highly emotional at this time. Thank science I never had to go through it.” Her words were clinical, detached, but they carried an unspoken expectation. “You’re a decent person, L/N. Take care of my daughter. You’ll live here from now on to be present for the child. I will support you both financially until you finish your degrees. I’ll babysit occasionally. Just ensure you do not impregnate her again for at least five years.”

You blinked, stunned by how easily Julie outlined the next steps of your life, as if this was all part of some grand experiment. You just stood there, staring at the scientist as she blabbed about logistics and support for you and Lauren's unborn child, as if she were discussing a lab project instead of her grandchild.

She continued, unflinching, “Of course, if you both decided to abort it, I am licensed to perform the procedure safely—”

“NO!!” Lauren’s voice ripped through the air, louder than anything before, her sobs intensifying. She was a mess of emotions, tears still streaming as she waved her hands in dismissal. “H-Hormohohoness!! Let me cryyy!” Her voice cracked, and she blew her nose dramatically, making you instinctively step back, cringing at the sight.

You turned back to Julie, your mind still reeling from the speed of everything. It wasn’t a decision; it wasn’t even a conversation anymore. This was happening—Lauren was keeping the baby, and you were moving in. There was no escaping the future that was now rushing toward you at breakneck speed.

Julie continued speaking with calm efficiency, talking about how you’d move in, how you’d inform your parents, and even giving a small lecture about the importance of protection during intercourse. But all you could do was nod absently, your mind still trying to catch up with the whirlwind your life had become in the span of a single conversation.

Third Month – 1st Trimester

The days blurred together after that. Before you knew it, you had moved into the McCanister home—well, not exactly. You moved into Lauren’s room at her insistence, not into a separate space. There was no chance of having your own room. “You impregnated me; the least you could do is cud—h-hol—sleep beside me!” she would grumble with a pout, her emotions flickering between demanding and fragile, a pendulum swinging from one extreme to another.

So you did. You held her every night, wrapping her in your arms as if your presence alone could soothe her fears. Sometimes, you’d wake up to find her snuggled so tightly against you that it was clear she needed the comfort more than ever.

The third month wasn’t the nightmare you had feared, though. Most of the school was blissfully unaware of Lauren’s pregnancy, and she managed to hide it beneath oversized sweaters and loose-fitting clothes. You kept telling yourself that if you could just make it to graduation without the news slipping out, things would be fine. Maybe, just maybe, you could avoid the inevitable social disaster.

But Lauren didn’t make it easy. She sobbed over everything—her clothes not fitting, her once-perfect figure changing, the sheer terror of people finding out. “It’s embarrassing!” she’d wail. “Pregnancy is social suicide!” Her face would be tear-streaked, her voice cracking as she mourned the loss of her pre-pregnancy body. Julie would stand by, unimpressed, staring at her daughter’s emotional outbursts with an expression that barely registered acknowledgment.

Despite the chaos, you still couldn’t fully comprehend it all. The fact that Lauren was pregnant still felt surreal, like it was happening to someone else. But every night when you held her, felt her stomach slowly growing against you, the reality chipped away at your denial. In six months, you were going to be a parent. You were going to have a baby.

The weight of it gnawed at you every time you saw baby clothes, baby cribs, diapers, formula—endless lists of things you hadn’t even begun to wrap your head around. Would you really be able to handle all of this? Were you ready for this monumental shift in your life, in your future?

And then, there was the possessiveness. Lauren’s need for you was palpable, suffocating. If you so much as stepped out of the room without telling her, she’d accuse you of abandoning her. “Are you cheating on me?!” she would cry, her voice hysterical, her fear palpable. It was as if the weight of her emotions had formed chains around you, binding you to her in a way that felt more like a prison than a commitment.

You tried to reassure her, wrapping your arms around her tightly, whispering words of comfort. But the fear in her eyes only grew. “Don’t leave,” she would plead, her fingers clutching your shirt as if you might slip away at any moment. “You’re mine, you know that, right? No one else can have you. I won’t let anyone take you from me.” The urgency in her voice made your heart race, a conflicting mix of fear and sympathy swelling within you. It was sweet and terrifying all at once, her need for you spilling over into something almost desperate.

Fifth Month – 2nd Trimester

By the fifth month, the secret was out. Lauren’s pregnancy was no longer something that could be hidden. Her stomach had grown noticeably, and despite her best efforts with baggy clothes and careful positioning, people at school started whispering. You had graduated by this point, and your focus was entirely on helping Lauren navigate her ever-growing list of needs. She cried for hours over her changing body, blaming you, then apologizing, then blaming you again.

Shopping trips with Lauren and Julie had become a warzone. No matter what you or Julie picked out, Lauren hated it. “That’s hideous!” she would declare, her tone laced with a mix of scorn and disappointment. You would watch her narrow her eyes, her mouth twisting into a snarl at every piece of clothing that didn’t fit her vision of what a pregnant girl should wear. In her mind, this was a fashion catastrophe, and it was somehow your fault.

“Why can’t you just pick something nice for once?” she demanded one afternoon, the frustration in her voice echoing off the walls of the store. Her hands were on her hips, and her brows were drawn together as she glared at you, a tiny frown deepening her delicate features.

You swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “I thought you liked the color,” you said, holding up a soft, lavender maternity dress. “It would look really pretty on you.”

“Pretty?!” she scoffed, and the sound sent a shiver down your spine. “I’m not trying to look pretty! I want to look stunning!” She turned away, crossing her arms as if the dress had personally offended her.

Julie, who had been standing nearby with an amused smirk, stepped in with her clinical efficiency. “Lauren, you know you’re in a delicate state. Stunning is subjective and not necessarily the goal here. Comfort should be prioritized.”

“Yeah, and I want to look good while being comfortable!” Lauren shot back, exasperation lacing her words. “Why is that so hard for everyone to understand?”

You felt your heart sink a little, the pit of despair growing deeper as you tried to navigate the emotional minefield that was Lauren. “Let’s just pick a few things,” you suggested tentatively, hoping to defuse the situation. “Maybe something flowy for now, and we can look for something fancier later?”

Lauren turned to you, her expression softening momentarily. “Fine. But if I look like a potato in these clothes, you’re the one buying my next set of outfits!” she huffed, before suddenly breaking into a smile, her bright blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “And if you don’t, I’ll make sure everyone knows you’re the one who got me pregnant!”

A mix of relief and anxiety surged through you. “Okay, okay! You look beautiful in anything, really!” you assured her, trying to keep the lightness in your tone, though the joke only partially masked your rising panic.

As the days passed, the physical changes in Lauren became impossible to ignore. The bump was undeniable now, and she frequently ran her hands over it as if trying to feel the baby’s presence—her expression a mix of awe and anxiety. You often caught her staring into mirrors, scrutinizing every detail of her reflection, the joy of motherhood battling with the fear of losing herself in the process.

“Am I going to be a good mom?” she would ask you in hushed tones late at night, her voice trembling with uncertainty. “What if I mess everything up? What if I’m not ready for this?”

You would wrap your arms around her, pulling her close, your heartbeat steadying her frazzled nerves. “You’re going to be amazing, Lauren,” you promised. “You’re strong and smart. You’ll figure it out.”

“But I don’t want to be just a mom,” she whispered, the vulnerability in her voice slicing through you. “What if I lose myself?”

“You won’t lose yourself,” you insisted gently, your hand tracing soothing patterns on her back. “You’ll just be… more. You’ll be you, but also a mother. It’s okay to feel scared. It’s a big change. But you’ll still be you.”

But even as you said the words, a nagging fear settled in your stomach. What if she wasn’t okay? What if this was all too much? Lauren’s possessiveness was slowly morphing into something darker, her need for control tightening around you like a vise. It scared you, and you could see her veering toward a precipice, a line she might cross without even realizing it.

Seventh Month – The Final Stretch

By the seventh month, Lauren’s possessiveness had become all-consuming. Every movement you made was under her watchful, obsessive gaze. If you shifted slightly in bed, her hand would immediately clutch yours, as if even in her sleep, she was terrified of you slipping away. Her dependency on you was like nothing you had ever experienced before—it was suffocating.

“Don’t leave me,” she whispered constantly, even when you were sitting right beside her. Her hands, trembling from the weight of her belly and the hormones racing through her, would grip your arm so tightly it felt like she was trying to bind you to her. There was something almost desperate in her touch, a need that went beyond simple affection—it was like she was afraid you would vanish if she didn’t keep her hold on you.

You weren’t used to this kind of affection—so intense, so overwhelming. Your heart would stutter every time Lauren curled into you, her fingers tracing the lines of your face as if memorizing every detail. You’d freeze up, unsure how to respond, your body stiff under her touch. It wasn’t that you didn’t care for her—you did, deeply—but the way she latched onto you like you were her entire world was... unnerving.

“Y-Yeah, I’m not going anywhere,” you’d stammer awkwardly, trying to give her the comfort she craved. But it never felt like enough. She always wanted more—more of your presence, more of your attention, more of you.

Her eyes, wide and shining with that obsessive light, would meet yours, and you could see the underlying fear beneath the possessiveness. “You promise?” she’d ask, her voice trembling, almost like a child afraid of being abandoned. It made you uneasy—like you were tiptoeing around a fragile part of her psyche, one wrong move away from setting off another emotional storm.

There were moments when her touch made your skin prickle, not because you didn’t want it, but because it felt too intense, too much. You weren't used to someone needing you this badly. Sometimes it felt like Lauren didn’t just want to be near you—she wanted to consume every part of you, to have you completely. It left you feeling unsteady, like you were losing control of where you ended and she began.

And Julie, of course, stood by, watching all of this unfold with her typical detached manner. “It’s normal for pregnant women to be more attached,” she’d say matter-of-factly, as if Lauren’s obsession was nothing more than a passing symptom of the pregnancy. But you knew, deep down, that this wasn’t just hormones—Lauren had always been possessive, but now it was like the pregnancy had intensified every one of her fears and desires.

Labor Day – The Panic

You were jolted awake by the sound of Lauren’s voice, frantic and panicked. “Babe—oh my God—I think it’s happening!” Her hands clutched her swollen belly, her breathing erratic and shallow. Fear hit you like a tidal wave, your body stiffening as the reality of the situation set in.

“W-Wait—now? Are you sure?” Your words came out in a rushed jumble as you scrambled out of bed, nearly tripping over your own feet in your rush to get to her. The panic in her voice sent shockwaves through you, your own fear mirroring hers, though you tried desperately to stay calm. You weren’t used to this—this level of responsibility, of having to be the one in control when everything around you was spiraling.

Julie appeared at the door, her voice cutting through the chaos like ice. “Get her in the car. I’ll drive.”

Everything became a blur after that—Lauren’s grip tightening on your arm as you helped her into the car, her tears and whimpers filling the silence. “You’re not leaving me, right?” she asked, her voice quivering as she leaned into you, her breath ragged. The desperation in her eyes was unbearable, her hands clutching you like you were her only lifeline in the storm.

“Of course not,” you replied, though the words felt hollow in the face of the overwhelming situation. You weren’t used to this. How were you supposed to calm her when your own heart was racing in your chest, fear and uncertainty swirling inside you?

Julie, as always, remained calm, driving you both to the hospital with unnerving composure. “It’ll be fine,” she said, her tone as cold and detached as ever. But you couldn’t believe her, not when Lauren’s grip on you tightened with every passing minute, her breathing growing more labored, her fear so palpable it hung in the air.

The hospital lights flickered by in a blur, and before you knew it, Lauren was being wheeled away, leaving you standing there, feeling utterly useless. You had been by her side this entire pregnancy—dealing with her possessiveness, her fears, her obsession—but now, in this critical moment, you were left on the outside, powerless to help.

Time felt like it stretched and collapsed all at once as you waited, pacing the sterile hospital floor. The panic and the fear never truly left, lingering at the edges of your mind, gnawing at you as you waited for any word, any sign that everything was okay.

When the nurse finally led you to the room, you could barely breathe. Lauren lay there, exhausted but beaming, her face soft and peaceful for the first time in months. In her arms was a tiny, fragile bundle, your newborn child—so small, so perfect it almost didn’t feel real.

Your breath hitched, emotions crashing over you in a wave so intense it left you dizzy. This was your child—your family. The reality of it hit you all at once, and for a moment, you felt like you were standing on the edge of something vast and terrifying. Could you do this? Could you really be the person Lauren needed, the parent this child deserved?

Lauren looked up at you, her eyes shining with something fierce, something more than love. Possession. “We’re a family now,” she whispered, her voice raw with emotion. “No one can take you from me now. Not ever.”

Her words sent a chill down your spine, but as you looked at the tiny newborn in her arms, all you could feel was the overwhelming weight of responsibility—and love. In that moment, you knew you were bound to Lauren, inextricably tied to her and this child. You weren’t used to this—being so needed, so wanted—but there was no turning back now.

[hrryshoney]

you’re asking me my symptoms, doctor

A/N: hii here’s beloved gyno!au. title is reference to Escapism by Raye lol. i’ll put warnings but def don’t read if this is gonna make u uncomfy. anyways this really came to me in a prophetic vision (slut hour daydreams) so i hope u enjoy and it lives up to expectations? and Shouts to everyone who i bounced ideas w and talked abt this Man w! ty ily mwah mwah

warnings: smut 18+, fingering, inappropriate actions in a doctors office, a bit of corruption maybe hmm idk, degradation, praise, taboo topics/power imbalance (doctor/patient), use of Y/N, dom and sub dynamics, problematic age gap maybe (reader is 22/23, matty is 29/30), dirty talk, etc..

You were sitting nervously on the exam table, leg bouncing up and down. Doctor’s offices always unnerved you, to say the least. The unnatural fluorescent lights with their buzzing, the cold chill, and sterile smell.

Today, though, you had to book your gynecologist appointment. Now, you’ve been to one gyno before, a woman whose practice was nice and small before you moved cities. Going into your third year of University, you wanted a change in scenery. Now, your gyno would be a man.

A kind woman with dark hair had just come into your room after knocking twice, giving you a hospital gown and a warm smile. Telling you to undress to your underwear and bra. That you should, “Sit tight! The doctor will be in soon.”

So, here you were. On the examination bed, awaiting your doctor eagerly. When you heard a similar knock on the door, but an imperceptibly firmer one, your head shot up. “Come in,” you cleared your throat and called out.

When the handle turned and your aforementioned Doctor walked in, you felt deceived. Deceived in the best way, though, because your Doctor was hot.

He was wearing a white coat, one with a silver tag that read MATTY, his medical badges hanging from the plate. With his glasses and the lightest dusting of gray through his black, curly hair. He couldn’t have been younger than his late 20s, if older than his early 30s. And as he reached out to grab the clipboard off the counter, you were able to see the smallest bit of black ink on his wrist.

He looked down at his documents, squinting slightly. He then set it back on the counter, walking about the room and getting some hand sanitizer from the dispenser. Your eyes are drawn to his hands immediately. When he clears his throat, you come to.

“Good afternoon, love. Y/N, correct? I see it says here you’ve only been to the gynecologist once before, and it was a female doctor,” you nod along to his words, watching him take a seat and hold eye contact with you. “Just wanted to let you know, you shouldn’t be worried. Just typical stuff today, alright?” You nod again, feeling smaller now. Even when he’s sat on his stool, he feels bigger than you.

“Gonna need your words, Y/N.” You can’t tell if he’s joking, even if you see the smirk on his face. Shifting in your seat, your gown ruffling below you, you manage a, “Yes, Doctor.” Through your dry mouth.

“Ah, almost forgot to introduce myself properly.” He laughs, but you swore you saw his eyes darken for a swift second. “I’m Doctor Healy, but you can call me Matty if you feel so inclined.” He grinned, and you felt like his words had a double meaning past the surface.

“You’re here for a routine checkup, I take it?” Moving over to the sink, pumping soap on his hands and running the water. “Lay back for me.” He instructed you as he washed, back turned. You listened without second thought, body going stiff.

You heard the tap turn off, Matty was drying his hands with paper towel now. He walked over to the table, standing above you and looking down. “If you don’t mind, can I ask you some questions before we begin?”

You began to nod, but remembered your reaction from earlier. Giving him another “Yes, Doctor.” he smiled easily. “Great… Now, are you sexually active?”

If you thought you were tense before, then you were like a board now. “Um, no.” You let your eyes flutter shut as you felt your skin heating, feeling terribly bare.

“Right, have you been? In the past?” was this a normal question to ask? Of course, they’d want to know of your bodily health. But of your… sexual activity as well? For you, though, there was nothing to report. Seeing as you were a virgin, which meant no sexual experiences other than yourself.

“Um, sorry, what are these questions for?” You couldn’t stop yourself from nervously laughing, your deflection of an answer hanging in the examination room.

Matty’s eyes dragged along your frame, going from your lips and then back to your eyes. You almost missed the beginning of his sentence when he spoke up. “All protocol, of course. It’s slightly awkward, but I’m obligated to ask. So?”

“So, no. I.. have not been in the past, or like, ever.” And you wanted to melt into the floor. Surely you would have to switch doctors after this again. Too embarrassing of a feat to face.

Another look and pause that goes on for much too long. Your stomach was starting to hurt. Well, maybe not hurt, but you needed to fix it and quick. When Matty claps and rubs his hands together, it snaps you out of it. “Interesting. Well, then, let’s begin.”

You noted that his pupils were huge behind the glasses, and his black slacks hugged his crotch very well. Did they look like that when he came in? You shifted again, trying to rub your thighs for some friction.

“Can I touch you?” His accented voice was deep and gravelly now. Leaving not much to the imagination of how this phrase might sound in a different situation coming from his mouth. His mouth, pink lips that he couldn’t stop licking, and slight stubble on his chin.

“Yes, Doctor Healy.” Your voice sounded submissive enough, and you almost yelped when his hand came down to grab your gown covered thigh. Roughly drawing circles with his thumbs into the spot. “Good girl. You’re tense.”

You shivered, eyes closing and opening again. The silence in the room felt so loud, and your doctor’s appointment was feeling a bit too erotic for what it was at this point. “I- I don’t know why I am.” Lie.

“Need you to relax for me, sweetheart.” His cold hands rub up and down your thighs. He’s making eye contact with you, causing you to cast your eyes to the ceiling. “Wanna put your legs in the stirrups?”

“Would that help, Doctor Healy?” You hear the sharp inhale of breath, followed by a cough. Trying not to lift your hips off the examination table from his constant skin to skin contact.

“It would, thank you.” He moves to grab your legs, setting them on the edge of the platform. His grip feels rougher than acceptable, fingertips leaving indents on your thighs. He reaches under your gown, looking at you for your nod and slipping your panties off. “May I start?”

“Yes, Doctor. Thank you.” And when you feel his fingers run down your slit, you don’t think it’s protocol. You were already embarrassingly wet from the interaction. As his hands move and brush your clit, you can’t hold back the moan. When you open your eyes, you’re met with Matty peering at you over his glasses, an amused smirk barely peeking through his expression.

“Oh, that’s no good, sweetheart.” He clicks his tongue, faux disapprovingly. His thumb comes back to press on your clit. “You’re so wet. What’s that from, huh?” He took his middle and ring finger, circling around your hole.

“It’s- You! You’re doing it, it’s your fault.” You cry out in pleasure and frustration. He was so condescending, but it felt so good. You know you needed to be more conscious of your volume, still being in a doctor’s office.

“My fault?” He almost gasped in surprise, “Oh, no. I don’t think so. I’m just trying to do my job, make sure everything’s okay down here.” Maneuvering his hand, he gave you two quick but firm taps on your clit with his middle and index finger. “Can you remove your gown for me?”

“Is this protocol, Doctor Healy?” You asked, half genuinely curious to see his answer. Moving to lift your bum, untying the gown from behind your back. Your legs were slightly shaking, and you saw his hand go to cover the smile that graced his mouth. You moved both your shoulders out of the arm holes, discarding the gown to the side. Leaving you in just your simple black bra, that had simple lace trimming.

“‘Course, making sure you’re in shape, and all.” His eyes dragged down your frame, stopping at your breasts. He was taking in your figure now, so you had the time to do the same. Your eyes immediately pulled to the now prominent bulge in his pants, and his fingers that seemed to twitch in anticipation.

“Do I appear to be in shape, then? Good for you?” Unbeknownst to you, what you had just said lit even more of a flame inside of Matty. You were asking him if you were good for him? He could show you what a good little slut he could make you.

He lets his hands rest between the apex of your thighs again, “Gonna spread you open a bit, okay? Think this’ll loosen you up for me.” Matty’s long fingers make their way to your cunt, running them up and down. He slides them down to your hole, collecting the wetness there and spreading it up to your clit.

His other hand came up to unclip your bra from behind your back. He did this expertly with one hand, leaving it to fall so he could grab at your breast. Palming at it for a while before pinching your nipple. You let out a whimper, and he gave you a soft slap on the side of your chest. He grabbed it roughly again, evening it out and applying more pressure to your clit as he did.

Your hand came to cover your mouth, not wanting to let your moans out. A soft, “Doctor,” fell from your lips, causing him to slip one finger inside of you. You couldn’t hold back, then. “Please, yes!”

Matty is running the tip his finger lightly along the inside of you, and it’s not enough. You begin to whine, but he cuts it off quickly. “Gotta relax or I won’t be able to run my tests. You don’t want that, do you?” His smirk is enough to make you want to slap it off him. Though, your whole body goes slack when he pushes his whole finger inside of you.

You’re moaning freely now, seeming to have forgotten that you’re still in a professional establishment. You were relentless, the pleasure he was giving you was too much in the best way. “Doctor- Matty. Please, need it.”

Matt’s pupils dilated, if it was possible for them to get larger. “Say my name again for me.” He groaned out, rocking his hips into the side of the table to relieve some tension. “Matty. Matty! Need you, please.” You obliged easily, drunken off the feeling. Matty pressed a second finger into your pussy.

“Poor thing. Never had anyone in this little hole before, huh? Perfect little cunt is so tight for me, were you saving yourself?” You think your reactions have gotten to his head, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your head was nodding in response to his words, eyes rolling back to your head.

You could feel pressure building in your stomach, the sound of his voice was getting to you. “Mhm. Doctor, think I’m gonna cum. Please, can I?” His hand sped up after hearing your words, thumb pressing on your clit. You could feel yourself dripping down your thighs, on to the protective cover of the exam table.

Your hips began to lift off the surface again, before Matty’s unoccupied hand came to press down on your abdomen again. ��Feels that good, darling? Can’t even stay still for me.” You opened your eyes to look at him, gaze falling to how his hand lifted off of you and went to palm himself. “Come on, be my good little slut and cum for me.”

Ultimately, that was what did you in. You gasped loud enough for the whole office to hear, eyes clamping shut. You saw white behind your eyelids and your hips lifted freely off the table this time. Matty’s fingers coming out of you, rubbing your clit through your orgasm. You heard Matty moan in the back, making out a “fuck me, that’s good. You’re beautiful,” coming from his mouth.

As you came down from it, you opened your eyes to see him licking both of his fingers. “Taste sweet, gonna have to get my mouth on you next time.” He said nonchalantly, still looking down at your pussy. You tried to take your hands and put them in front of it, feeling shy all the sudden.

“Little late for that after I made you cum.” He giggled, going to get a towel from the cabinet above the sink. “Lemme clean you up.” You flustered but agreed in the end. When he came back with the towel, he leaned down to kiss you. You reciprocated easily, jumping when the towel came in contact with your skin.

“Thank you for.. that. For the appointment, Doctor.” You giggled, his head snapping up and eyes narrowing. You raised your hands in faux defence, the smile staying on your face. He smiled with you.

“Came so nicely for me, think I should be the one saying thanks.” He gave you another smirk, getting your panties from the side when they had been discarded. He tapped your thigh, signaling for you to put your legs through. Doing the same with your bra, he then helped you off the examination table.

“Seriously, you were really good. You know, for my first time.”

“Would barely call that a first time, I’ll give you that another time though.” He winked, turning around to look for your other clothes. Your jaw dropped, but you recollected yourself before he turned back to see.

“Right well. Thank you..” You said awkwardly, looking down at your feet. Where were you supposed to go from here? You just got fingered by your gynecologist in his public doctor’s office. You would have to reflect on this when you got home.

“Not an issue, really.” Matty sidestepped you to get to one of the cabinets behind you, slapping your ass as he did. Tease. He was being much too normal about this.

“I mean, what kind of doctor would I be if I left you unsatisfied with your appointment?”

[f10werfae]

Expect the Unexpected Baby

pairing: Henry Cavill x Pregnant!Reader

Summary: Henry breaks up with Y/n, only to discover he’s left something of his behind, his baby. Does he try and reconcile? or Does he just accept the path he’s made? (requested by @depressedneedingrevenge )

Likes, Comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️ Library: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection

Disclaimer: This story is fiction and should not be taken literally, the behaviour is simply imaginative and the content may be inappropriate

Henry Masterlist, Full Masterlist Lumberjack!Henry

“Are- Are you really doing this to us Henry? I thought you said we wouldn’t give up on us?” Y/n sniffled taking off her engagement ring, watching as Henry packed the rest of his stuff from their house, he had only broken up with her a week prior. “Bab- Y/n I- you know I didn’t want this, I’ve got to work for longer, I need someone that’s willing to be there for me, give me something to come home to”

“So because I still haven’t been able to provide you with a baby, a family, i’m suddenly not worthy enough to keep you? Is that what it is?” Y/n snarked throwing her ring at him, watching as he scoffed and lugged the rest of his luggage out, throwing his house keys to the floor; leaving Y/n alone in the now lonely house. Y/n felt sobs wreck through her body as she collapsed to the ground, the sobs were so hard to a point where she felt herself gag and had to rush herself to the toilet.

Recently the couple had been on the edge of it, after being told their chances of conceiving were low due to Y/n’s hormone imbalance, their hopes and dreams of building a family together was shattered. As a result, they grew distant, both of them focusing on their careers as an actor and as a nurse.

“Shit, fucks sake” Y/n groaned pulling herself up from the bathroom floor, looking at the now broken version of herself in the mirror, “You’ll be okay Y/n, you’re stronger than this” She whispered to herself, studying the look on her face before forcing out a smile. This wasn’t the end of her happiness, Y/n L/n was a strong woman who was capable of anything if she put her mind to it; that includes being a single mother.

A few weeks after Henry had left her, Y/n fell ill to a point where her best friend Jess had to sleepover constantly just to make sure she ate properly and didn’t collapse from exhaustion. “Y/n You should really see your doctor, this surely isn’t normal, you’re a healthy young woman” Jess winced as she patted her friend’s back, watching on as she continuously vomited into the toilet bowl.

“I’m scared, come with me?” Y/n whimpered sitting back and wiping her mouth with a spare towel, her stomach had not been able to stomach anything but saltine crackers and water; she just wasn’t feeling her best at all. Usually it was Henry that accompanied her to the doctors, knowing how bad her anxiety got, but now she had no one; well Jess of course.

“Of course babes, wouldn’t let ya go there on you’ own, give me the number and i’ll book the appointment for you” Jess said taking Y/n’s phone and finding the practice’s number in her contacts, phoning them then and there to schedule an appointment for the next morning, it was an emergency after-all.

So off they went the next morning to the doctor, who out of the blue asked if she was sexually active after hearing the ongoing symptoms, was this normal? “Uh- well I was a few w-weeks ago” Y/n stuttered watching her doctor note things down and click a few things on her computer. “Miss. L/n, i’m going to need a urine sample if that’s alright?”

“What do you think is wrong with me?” Y/n whimpered holding onto Jess’ hand tightly, after giving in her sample all she had to do now was wait, and thankfully the practice wasn’t as busy today and she’d be able to get the results on the same day. “Nothing chick, you’re sweet, I know you are and it’s probably just something from a bad takeout-“

“Miss L/n, I have the results” The doctor smiled walking into the box white room, a clipboard in hand as she sat down in front of Y/n.

“You’re 2 months pregnant”

Y/n felt her world stop, was she really about to have a baby? That thought was out of the question for her, she thought she was destined for a childless life, and she’d spend everyday blaming herself despite it not being her fault at all.

“A-are you sure Dr. Brown? I thought my chances of conceiving were low? Is the baby okay? Wait- are you joking with me?”

“I said your chances were low, not impossible Miss L/n. Now we can talk through your options now, or, you can choose to go to the front desk and schedule for your first sonogram” Dr. Brown smiled already knowing Y/n’s answer, watching as Jess stood up cheering beside her gob smacked, and now pregnant, best friend Y/n.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Why does he look like an alien at 8 months?” Jess giggled looking at the baby L/n on the picture, it’s head looking odd with the 3d angle. “Shut up you, don’t listen blueberry you’re already so handsome” Y/n cooed looking down over her stretched stomach, seeing the imprint of a foot push against her marked skin, the stretch marks telling a story of hardships.

“i’m actually going to be the best god-mother, going to spoil the hell outta him” Jess smiled feeling the tiny babe kick at her hand, now that Christmas was in a few hours she felt it would be best to spend it with Y/n, who was unfortunately unable to spend it with family this year. “Yeah course you are, look Jess I know you hate me saying this but, have you tried calling Henry again? I know you hate his ass but, he deserves to know about blueberry right?”

For the past few weeks Henry had clouded Y/n’s mind, sure he had broken her heart, but she couldn’t help but yearn for his touch and love especially now that she was carrying the perfect mix of them both. Her baby blueberry. Anytime she tried to call him, it would cut off, meaning he had now changed numbers which would make sense. He was now working on a movie somewhere abroad, so he would need a new cell; unfortunately meaning he had now lost complete contact with her.

“Y/n L/n, you don’t need a man, you’re a strong independent mama alright?”

“I know I know, but if there’s a chance I don’t have to go through this alone, even just as a co-parent- OW FUCK” Y/n suddenly exclaimed feeling a strong pulse of strain go through her pelvis, her had going to support her stomach, protectively caring over her baby boy.

“Y/n, okay shit uhm, we gotta get you to a hospital your water has broken early sister; we got a Christmas present comin’ in hot”

“B-but is it not too early?! Blueberry isn’t due till later January” Y/n groaned feeling another contraction ripple through her body, groans leaving her body as Jess helped her get into the car, her body sweating despite the cold air. Pouting Y/n tried to calm herself down by talking to her baby, the single mother had only began nesting, buying hundreds (not exaggerating) of baby grows and bottles; even decorating the nursery with a DC theme to honour her relationship that produced her source of light.

“I don’t give a fuck honey, we just need a doctor, AND QUICK” Jess shouted out the window once they arrived at the emergency bay, immediately catching the attention of on duty nurses and doctors who skilfully transferred Y/n into a wheelchair, an oxygen mask being thrown over her head once inside the hospital to stabilise her breathing.

Y/n felt her whole world being turned upside down, nurses pushing her to God knows where, her hair now tied up by one of the doctors who just knew exactly what she needed then and there. When all of a sudden a dark haired man caught her eye as she was wheeled past A&E,

“Henry?” Y/n said drowsily through her mask, watching as the man turned his head just at the right moment to make eye contact with her, she’d know those blue eyes anywhere. “Y/n? Y/N?!” Henry shouted seeing his ex-fiancée being wheeled away in emergency, groups of nurses and doctors all fussing around her. Forgetting his hurt hip, his instincts took over and he found himself rushing after the woman he still loved, the woman he left for a job opportunity that he thought would fulfil the emptiness of not having a family.

Weeks into working abroad did he realise, Y/n was his family, he realised a bit too late. His contract was signed, he wouldn’t be able to return home for good until he finished this new series, he wasn’t able to come home; that is until now. Henry Cavill was back home, sure he was injured, but he was home back on the soil.

“J-jess, Jess that w-was Henry. I-if something happens, make- make sure he sees blueberry okay?” Y/n cried throwing her head back from the pain once she was carried onto the bed, her best friend panicking beside her realising the seriousness as she was made to sign a “next of kin” document. Her friend’s life was in danger.

“For fucks sake Y/n, you’re going to be okay ya hear me? You’ll be able to show him to Henry yourself once you get this baby out, y-you have to!” Jess sobbed, there was no way in hell she was letting her friend accept death, this wasn’t how it was supposed to end. “Excuse me miss if you’re not the father/partner, due to COVID regulations we can’t allow you in here”

The nurse said apologetically quickly ushering Jess to the door, “Are you guys serious?! She’s scared and in pain, there’s no way i’m leavin’ her here!” Jess fought trying to wrestle her way back to Y/n, “J-jess i’m scared, I don’t wanna do this alone” Y/n cried reaching for her friend, the doctors around her were buzzing with adrenaline, grabbing all sorts of equipment and liquids.

“So you’re telling me the baby’s father can be here right?” Jess exhaled, sprinting once she got the nod of approval from the nurse, relief filling her once she ran into the red-faced Henry who had clearly been running circles around the hospital after losing track of Y/n.

“Look Henry, no time for questions you need to fuckin run to room 304, Y/n is having your baby and- and she’s alone and scared-“

Not even letting her finish Henry began running for his life, not caring about his swelling pelvis, the people shouting at him to slow down; he just needed to see his Y/n and his baby. It didn’t take long for him to find the room with people constantly moving in and out purposefully, introducing himself to the nurse from earlier, she smiled gratefully handing him scrubs from the storeroom.

“Are you Henry? She’s been screaming for you even when we gave her some medication to calm her down” The nurse whispered bringing him into the room, his eyes widening seeing her laying down on the bed, her legs propped up. “H-Henry is that really you?” Her voice rasped, a tired smile on her face as she reached out for him, not wasting a second his hand intertwined with hers.

“So we’re having a baby huh?”

“Yes, our blueberry”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Wow h-he’s gorgeous” Henry smiled tearing up, his finger softly running over his tiny son’s cheek, the delivery hadn’t been easy at all with even there being mentions of a possible C-section. Thankfully Y/n was able to deliver naturally with help from an epidural, and honestly she was just glad to have someone by her side.

“Yeah he’s perfect, our blueberry” Y/n smiled nuzzling her cheek against her baby, his small fingers outstretched on her breast as he fed eagerly. The both of them cooing as he heard his tiny grunts, “Poor chap, musta been starving” Henry joked meeting Y/n’s tired eyes, truthfully she had never looked so beautiful to him than at that moment.

Not just because she had just birthed their child, but because she still smiled at him the same way she did all those months ago; not an ounce of hatred to be seen. “Yeah, s’jus like his daddy I suppose” Y/n giggled, just feeling relieved her baby boy was now here safe and sound. The room falling into a comfortable silence before Y/n revealed the name, “His name is Clark, it’s not up for debate just so you know” She joked smoothing the slight hairs already showing at the top of his head.

“Y/n, i’m home now, let me do it right this time”

“We can talk about that later Henry, let’s just look at our baby, please?”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“ Blueberry, where are you?” Y/n giggled pretending she couldn’t see her now one year old hiding behind his daddy, who was busy building the new batman Lair they had gotten Clark for Christmas. The tiny tot giggling as if his dark curls weren’t visible from behind his daddy’s arms.

“Babe, have you seen our blueberry anywhere? Was gonna give him kisses and cuddles” Y/n playfully pouting sitting beside Henry on the floor, knowing damn well Clark was on the other side of him giggling triumphantly. “No sorry momma, haven’t seen the champ since bath time this mornin”

“Well I guess m’gonna have to give you his kisses and cuddles instead then” Y/n smirked peppering kisses to Henry’s face and lips, her arms hugging her man tightly, knowing damn well that would coax her baby Clark out of hiding. “NO MAMA” She heard him screech, rapidly tumbling out of his spot like superman and clinging to his momma, pushing Henry as hard as possible.

“Ah! There he is, my baby blue” Y/n cooed blowing raspberries into his neck, her smile widening as his laughs grew louder; Henry’s arms coating around the both of them, bringing them into his side. After Y/n had given birth, they worked hard together to co-parent alongside couple’s counselling, finally reaching the last stage by moving back in together and functioning as a healthy couple. Some turned their noses at Y/n taking him back, whilst others scoffed at Henry for being “baby trapped” But the couple knew it was no one else’s business but theirs, if they were happy and if Clark was happy, what else mattered?

“We need to tell Jess to stop buying him so many complicated toys” Henry sighed turning the screwdriver as he built another floor of the batman building, “You know this is her way of punishin’ you right?” Y/n laughed letting Clark nuzzle into her neck, a sign he was getting sleepy and running out of energy.

“I know, and i’d do this a hundred times over, just to see the lil guy destroy it into pieces happily” Henry chuckled seeing his mini me slowly fall asleep in his girlfriend’s lap, leaning over he placed a soft sensual kiss on her lips; an act he now got the privilege of repeating every single second, minute, hour and day.

“I love you Y/n, n’ I hope you know that, i’ll keep reminding you anyway”

“Ya wont need to, as long as you’re here with me, i’ll know you love me and you’ll know I love you too” She whispered against his lips, kissing the corner of them lightly. “I think we’re due for a family nap, i’m feelin like pulling a Clark and hiding in mama’s neck too”

———

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[xzaddyzanakinx]

Missed Me pt 2

Stepdad!Anakin Skywalker x femme reader

18+ MDNI

Warnings: cheating, oral, stepcest/inappropriate relationships

Info: mom comes home, shit gets complicated Also, just now realizing I should be putting ‘cheating’ in the warnings for all stepdad! fics… oopsie

Anakin had always been an athletic man, but right now his reflexes seemed to fail him. He froze with his mouth still suctioned to your cunt. His eyes locked onto you as if his brain had shut down. You tapped his forehead and it seemed to have hit his reset button because he scrambled up and smacked the garage door button repeatedly, willing it to close faster.

The moment he finally moved, you gathered up your clothes… or what was left of them and panicked. Anakin stared at you like he’d lost every thought in his head, before he laughed. A full loud belly laugh.

You broke out in a little smile and pushed past him to go into the house, making a run for your bedroom. Moments later you heard the front door open, the jingle of keys, and the dull thump of your mothers purse on the kitchen table.

“Anakin?” She called out.

You noted her voice seemed normal, unaffected. Breathing a sigh of relief you made yourself presentable and shoved your ruined clothes into your trash bin.

“Huh? What?” You heard Anakin yell back, muffled from the distance of the closed garage door to your room.

“Just seeing where you were that’s all babe.” She called back. Good. He’ll have time to pick up the mess he’d made from his frantic clearing of his work bench.

God he’s just so good at playing it cool. Huh? What? That little crack in his voice betrayed his nervousness and you hoped your mom didn’t question it.

You heard shuffling and decided it was probably safe to come out of your room. Walking into the kitchen you acted as normal as possible. You were out of practice for this sneaking around and you felt awkward and alittle dirty.

“Hey.” You smiled at your mom, who pulled you into a side hug while she was sitting at the kitchen counter flipping through the mail.

“How’s your day going sweetheart?” She asked, not looking up.

You turned to get a water from the fridge and leaned against the counter.

“It’s okay.” You said nonchalantly, “I slept in… but I was just about to go on a run actually.”

“Oh good! Why don’t you take the dog with you?” She suggested. “I’m sure she’d love a little trip around the neighborhood.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” You nodded, noting a slight frown on her face when she finally looked up at you. Though it quickly faded and you wondered if maybe your guilty conscience had you seeing things.

“Well don’t let me keep you.” She smiled. “I probably won’t be here when you get back, I’ve got to go back into the office.”

“Really? I thought they were letting you have a full day off?” You asked in confusion, knowing she had requested that because of the doctors appointment she had just returned from.

“Yeah, there’s a trainee who fumbled some stuff while coding for the new website I’m working on.” She sighed, but brushed it off with a wave of her hand.

“Well… good luck fixing it then.” You shrugged, turning around and grabbing the dog’s leash.

“Chewie!” You said in your happy little ‘who’s a good puppy’ voice.

Your big, furry, German shepherd came running. She may look alittle scary, but she’s really just the sweetest girl. You ruffled the scruff around her neck and gave her a solid few pats to her side before clipping on her leash and heading outside.

Meanwhile Anakin had just finished picking up his disaster zone of a garage and slid himself back up underneath the vehicle he was repairing. He worked for a while there until he heard the garage door leading into the house open and the familiar *click-clack* of his wife’s work pumps.

“Hey babe.” He said flatly, unceremoniously inching back out from under the car. He grabbed his discarded t-shirt and wiped his hands and face with it before tossing it on the propped open hood of the car.

Your mom smiled, patting his cheek.

“Almost done with this one?” She asked, pointing to the vehicle.

“Yeah, the guys coming to pick it up tomorrow.” Anakin nodded. “And I’ve got an old Lincoln coming in tomorrow too. Somethin’ about the fuel injector.” He shrugged.

“Will you be done for the weekend though?” She asked, gently touching his forearm. “I was hoping we could have a date night.”

“Uh, well yeah sure.” He nodded, trying to sound enthusiastic. “I’m sure it’ll be alright if I push one back a day.”

“Really?” She smiled big and wide, “thank you, I’ll plan us something good okay?”

He nodded, giving her a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. Damn. He was a piece of shit, a horrible husband, and a terrible stepfather. That little glimmer of hope and happiness in his wife’s eyes… it still wasn’t enough. It never had been enough, not since the first time he’d had you.

He felt like throwing up. Wondering how his life had come to this. Desperately in love with a girl who was barely legal, while his perfectly willing and loving wife was standing right in front of him begging for his attention.

“C’mere.” He said after a moment of just staring into the nether, looking straight through those hopeful eyes.

He pulled your mom into a hug, and kissed the top of her head. He felt bad, and this would make it better. Or at least that’s what he told himself. A little apologetic affection, though of course he was the only one aware that this was an apology.

“Alright. I’ll let you get back to work.” Your mom said, a bright smile on her lips that Anakin didn’t even attempt to mirror.

He simply turned back around and leaned over the engine bay, surveying the work he had left to complete.

It was accidental. A completely innocent last glance at Anakin as your mother shut the door. But it was a more than enough to see the very visible, very fresh, red streaks on his upper back. She swallowed, opening the door again.

“Hey Ani?” She said, hiding the lump in her throat with a cough.

“Yeah?” He huffed, not turning around while he was elbow deep in the engine bay.

She asked where you were. Wanting to check her theory.

“She was on a run.” He said, looking back over his shoulder. “I figured she’d be back by now. Check her room I guess.”

“Alright.” She sighed, stiffly shutting the door.

You and Chewie were jogging through your subdivision, and finally decided to stop for a break under the shade of a large tree. Standing on the side walk you took a sip from your water bottle and leaned against the rough bark. Wiping the sweat from your face with the back of your hand.

As you screwed the lid back on you noticed a black streak on your skin.

Fuck.

Part three

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[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not telling my friends that I probably wont survive this year?

Trigger warning: mentions of terminal illness, medical malpractice, death.

💀🤫🤐 to find later

I know the general consensus for this type of thing is almost always that I should tell them. This is a little more complicated, but I might still be TA.

I (20s trans) have an illness that doesn’t always end with death. It’s usually manageable with some heavy medications. The problem is that I live in the US, where access to these medications is made almost impossible, especially if you’re poor. I lucked out for a few years and have been able to have access. I thought I was set for life, and then the dr who prescribed that med started being inappropriate and abusive. They won’t allow me to transfer to a different dr in their office and there are literally no other doctors where I live that cover this disease or will prescribe the medication for me. So, that access is ending very soon, and I have spent months trying to find a way around it but. Hey. The American medical industry genuinely sucks. I just found out that it’s 100% impossible for me to continue this medication with the way things are, and nothing else works like this class of medications.

What this means is things are going to get really bad for me, and then I will most likely die in a really unpleasant way. That’s the reality, and at this point there is no avoiding it. I tried, but there are no options. I’m still in the process of accepting it. It’s not going great.

The problem is, I can’t bring myself to tell anyone I know the full details. I’ve mentioned things are not looking good, but as far as most of my friend’s know I’m doing just fine.

The last time I was this unwell, it was before I was allowed access to these medications, newly diagnosed, and I was doing really poorly. When I told friends and mutuals about this, they called the cops to do a “wellness check” because they just assumed I was suicidal rather than actually that sick for some reason. I, a visibly trans person, was forced to allow a cop to come into my apartment to talk to me while I was trapped my bed because I was unable to get up and walk at that point. At the same time, I started getting messages on my personal blog telling me to shut up about my illness. A lot of messages to KMS already. I mean a lot of them. When I started to get better thanks to the meds, I had people tell me they were disappointed that I didn’t die. I had close friends ghost me or tell me I wasn’t worth it.

To say I’m traumatized about this kind of thing is putting it lightly. Years of therapy has not even touched most of that.

Now, I don’t have any rl friends. Being constantly sick made that hard, then the pandemic made it impossible. So all my friends are online and won’t be clued in to what’s happening unless I tell them outright. I would like to, because I hate the idea of vanishing on them. But I’m currently living in an even more unsafe area to have a “wellness check” done by the police and I just genuinely can’t bring myself to trust anyone with this level of personal ever again.

AITA for not telling them? Should I just suck it up and do it?

[kiatheinsomniac]

──── 𝐀 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ˊˎ -

☾ ⋆ ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: I had brainrot sorry but I want this man to rail me in inappropriate places.... I should do a coffin next

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: The Undertaker | Adrian Crevan x Reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2.3k

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: NSFW content, smut, MDNI, sex in a morgue, slight body carving, biting/marking, creampie, can be read as a modern au

You looked so out of place and there was something alluring about it. 

You were laid back against the autopsy table, kicking your feet slightly as you patiently waited for your lover to shrug off his coat and pull on a pair of black latex gloves. You had been curious about his job as an Undertaker and so he thought: what better way than to walk you through it with you as the subject? 

Your heart leapt a little at the sight of him with his hair messily pulled back into a bun, his coat removed to reveal the sleeve garters around his arms, white sleeves pushed up his forearms and contrasting the black waistcoat and tight black trousers he so often wore. His style truly made him irresistible. 

“Now, usually I’d have to begin by washing the body.” He began as he leaned his hands on the table and towered over where you were laid down, “Though, I’m most often tasked with having to remove their clothes by cutting them off as I later dress them in whatever outfit I’m sent, I know how fond you are of this pretty skirt.” He let out a little hum as he tugged on the end of said skirt. “So let me take these off for you.” He needed no help to lift your hips in order to tug it down though you did sit up for him to remove your shirt. He left you in just your white cotton panties and baby blue bra for a moment, admiring your body. The lace of the bralette was so thin, it left absolutely nothing to his imagination as he watched your nipples pebble behind the sheer fabric. “These too, come on.” His voice drawled out and you began to wonder whether he was getting distracted or whether he had planned this all along. 

In all honesty, the Undertaker had fantasised about fucking you on this table for a long time now. He wanted the thrill of it, the memories of how you’d look and sound being fucked over the table that he would spend hours working at every day. Maybe such memories would make the days go faster? Maybe they’d remind him of what he had to look forward to at the end of the day? 

“There you go…” He eased you to lay back down as he folded your clothes up and set them aside. “Usually I’d get out some stronger stuff but…” He brought out a solution of sanitiser that he knew wouldn’t irritate your living skin. “I wouldn’t want to hurt my poppet.” His sentence was punctuated by a kiss to the tip of your nose and a little laugh from him as he stood over you once more. You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment at being naked and utterly exposed to him like this. 

“That’s cold!” You gasped out when it first touched your skin and he clicked his tongue before pressing a finger to your lips, tapping twice with a smile that was as seductive as it was mischievous. 

“I’m not a doctor, darling;” You took in a sharp breath through your nose when he resumed cleaning your body, “my patients don’t speak.” You did your best to lay still and quiet as he washed your body, fighting the urge to flinch at the initial coldness of the sanitiser against your heated skin. “Now…” He moves on to turn your arms so that they’re palm-up. Latex-covered fingers graze across your wrists, tracing the rivers of your veins beneath your skin, “This is the part where I’d start to drain out all of your blood from here-” His long nails bit into your wrist, even through the gloves he wore, “-or from here,” He then grazed his fingertips up over your arm and to your chest where your heart thumped heavily, making a little detour along the way to tease one of your stiff nipples, “and I’d replace it with a formaldehyde-based solution.” You gasped at the sight of a scalpel in his hands as his fingers ghosted over your abdomen. “I’d have to make an incision or two here to insert a tube so that I could pump you full of solutions to preserve and harden your organs. I’d then close them up and dress you again before I got onto makeup if necessary.” 

He leaned down to press a kiss against where the sharp scalpel had been hovering over your abdomen and you were surprised to see his lips come away smeared with a little bit of blood. You glanced down to the red lip print on your skin that was so slightly beading with blood still, surprised that he had actually cut you. 

“Of course, I cut my patients much deeper.” He clarified with a laugh at your shocked expression before he swiftly grabbed your legs and rotated your body so that you were laid sideways on the table with your legs hanging off. He then gave you no time to recover as he moved you so that you were now bent over it with your chest pressing to the cold metal surface, eliciting a shrill gasp from you at the sensation. 

“But, as much as I love my job, you’re far more interesting to have on my table. You see, you’re all mine and I get to hear all the sweet little noises you make, see how you squirm and twitch, isn’t that right, poppet?” 

You quickly nodded your head with a muffled mmh-hmm as those gloved hands firmly grabbed the softness of your ass, pulling you apart to get a view of your pussy that was now glistening from being so exposed to him and his touches. He hadn’t expected you to be so shy and embarrassed at being so exposed and vulnerable to him on his autopsy table and yet it seemed that you were just as excited by it as him. 

“Ah, another thing…” He began and you cast a little glance over your shoulder at him, finding those bright green eyes fixed between your legs, “Sometimes they don’t come in perfect shape… I might have to cover up bruising with some makeup or fix over some injuries with wax; you understand what I mean, don’t you? I usually have to inspect each patient thoroughly and it seems that you have an irregularity to all my patients right here so you’ll be good while I inspect it, won’t you?” You folded your arms beneath your head and buried your face in them as he angled your hips to face up a little more, his legs dressed in those heeled and high-climbing boots kicking your own apart before falling to your knees. “Won’t you?” He repeated, wanting to hear your submission. 

“I will…” You replied in a murmur, hips jerking just a little at the sensation of his breath on the back of your thigh. 

“Swelling…” He mused as though it were somehow just for him, like your thoughts on this were irrelevant even though it was only done for the sheer purpose of watching your arousal grow in the face of your own humiliation. His comment was joined by gloved fingers prodding at your pussy lips. “Flushed skin too…” He murmured at the rosy tint of your aching flesh. You let out a little whimper when his fingers glided through your slit, gathering wetness and stopping just short of your clit. “Wet too…” You keened at the faint pressure of his fingertips at your entrance. “I should see if I can determine the cause of that.” 

“Adrian!” You let out a cry of his name as his finger sank into you unexpectedly. It was rare that he ever fingered you, opting to usually make you touch yourself in front of his watchful eyes or for him to sloppily make out with your cunt before pushing his dick into you. His long nails wouldn’t allow you to comfortably be fingered by him, you’d only end up with scratched-up insides, but the gloves he was currently wearing protected you from such a risk and the feeling was so surprising, you felt your legs buckle for a moment. 

“Very warm too…” He added to his mental notes as he shallowly pumped his slender finger in and out, rotating it slightly to feel along your walls. You were moving just slightly and he could tell that you were doing your best to not squirm. He wanted to test your limits and so another finger was added to your dripping pussy, making the material of his gloves shine with your arousal. “Tight as well, that’s good.” You could hear the edge of a moan in his voice and knew that he was already imagining how you would feel wrapped around his cock. A squeaked moan left your lips when those fingers brushed over your sweet spot and you pushed your hips back slightly to meet his touch as he hummed in observation. 

You took a moment to ask yourself how you had ended up in this position. Genuine curiosity regarding his job had sparked these flames, yes, but who knew you could get so wet from humiliatingly having your pussy inspected by him like this as though you were just some subject or toy? A whine built in the back of your throat at the constant cycle of being turned on by your own humiliation.“Yes, I see what needs to be done…” You parted your lips to protest, only to let out a cry and try to grapple onto the table when he sank his cock into you in one merciless thrust. He wasted no time in firmly grabbing the curve of your waist to hold you still and stop your hips from hitting into the metal table when he began to deliver a punishing pace to your dripping hole that was already so close to coming around him from your prior stimulation. 

You could feel the way that he leaned over you, the way the band had fallen from his silver hair to allow it to spill over his shoulders and tickle at your back. You were reminded of just how exposed you were when his clothed chest pressed to your back just before his teeth sank into your shoulder, making you whimper at the pain. He messily licked over the small wound, saliva gathering in the indents of his teeth and cooling in the air, sending little shivers through you. It was the first of many marks to be left across your back, shoulders and neck, even going as far up as your jaw. One bite had been particularly hard and you jolted upwards against him, reaching your hands back in a split second to try and push him off of you. It was a futile attempt done without thought, really, as he quickly grabbed your wrists and pinned them to your lower back in one hand. You were given very little room to squirm as your body tensed with a sudden orgasm, walls tightly squeezing around the fat cock mercilessly gliding in and out of your dripping hole.

“Stay down…” He ordered in a low voice by your ear, keeping his lips there to allow you to hear every moan and word of praise he had for you. “Now…” He began as you began to tremble with the overstimulation, the sensation of your walls milking him causing his hips to falter in their pace, becoming sloppier and sloppier. “I couldn’t exactly fill you up with formaldehyde or glutaraldehyde but… I can fill you with something else instead.” A moan, edged with a whimper, left his lips at the sight of your overused pussy creaming around his aching cock, forming a ring at the base. You were so fucking pretty. His orgasm was only spurred on by your eager nodding and broken, whining little begs for his cum. Who was he to deny you after you’d been so sweet to take interest in his job and then had obediently sat through being the subject of his little demonstration? 

You let out a little pained noise at how unintentionally tightly he squeezed your wrists when he finally came inside of you, continuing to grind the head of his cock against your beaten cervix as he came deeply, fucking it all into you. 

“Adrian.” You squeaked out when you concluded that he didn’t realise he was hurting you. Bright green eyes fell to you before he let you go, lacing his fingers through those on one of your hands instead to give you an apologetic squeeze. 

“Sorry, poppet.” He murmured as he leaned down to press soft kisses across the reddening marks on your back and shoulders. “I got a bit lost in the moment.” 

“That’s ok…” You mumbled back, feeling sleepy. You felt him carefully ease himself out of you, leaving you slumped over the table for a mere moment before his coat was being draped over your shoulders and you were being eased upright. 

“Hold these.” A quiet command as he put your folded-up clothes into your hands, his gloves now removed. You were then swept up bridal-style and felt his lips press to your forehead as he carried you out of the morgue and into the entrance of his funeral parlour that had closed hours ago. 

You only opened your eyes to look up at his scarred face once he was laying you down in your shared bed upstairs. You reached up for him with grabby hands and watched as your reaction made him smile and laugh a little before he began stripping out of his clothes for you to see, immediately getting into bed with you and covering both of your bare bodies with a warm blanket. 

“You know… I had been expecting you to just talk me through the process or maybe invite me into the morgue the next time you work.” You murmured against his scarred chest as you rested your head there. 

“Hm, yes, but I thought that my method would be much more entertaining for the both of us, my love.” He punctuated his words by squeezing you a little with the arm that was curled around your waist. 

“I think you were right…” You hummed as you let yourself doze off with the sound of his heartbeat to lull you. 

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[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

I Don’t Get It

Bam gets a proposal to do a photoshoot for a certain magazine with his girlfriend, Y/N, and she couldn’t be happier!

Bam Margera X Fem!Reader

(Fluff)

2.2k Words

Warnings: Extremely suggestive content, injuries, nudity, bimbo Y/N, crude language, kissing, lingerie, jealousy

An: Happy Valentine’s Day! This is the first non request fic from me in a while! XD While doing research for the Bam wedding fic, I got to rewatching Unholy Union, so this fic was inspired by the Playboy photoshoot Missy was in in episode 4! This moodboard by @princessthatcantfuckingsleep also reminds me a lot of Y/N in this one lol XD If you want an idea of how far ahead I write these fics, this was also inspired by the fact that I got an official Bam skate deck for Christmas!! So cool! Anyways, thank you for all of the requests and please keep sending them in!!

Getting calls from the hospital at midnight about Bam was a part of your routine but that didn’t stop you from rushing over every time to make sure your boyfriend was okay. You’d sit in the waiting room, anxiously filing your nails or fixing your lipstick in the mirror of your blush compact before a nurse called you up- you were in there so frequently for him that they knew you by name. A couple night shift nurses in their blue scrubs and ugly rubber hose-off clogs would shoot you dirty looks, but the notion that it was inappropriate to have your tits out in a hospital never really seemed to bother you.

She showed you to a room and you tottered in on your stilettos, your eyes going wide as you flicked the light on, “Oh my god- Bam!” There was your boyfriend, laying back on a gurney in a paper gown with his arm in a sling, a sight you had seen many times before. Hurrying over to his side, you sat on top of the sheets and threw your legs across his thighs. The pained grimace that Bam was wearing from his broken elbow was replaced with a grin as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him to your chest, “I was so worried about you! What happened?”

“Mmm…m’feel like shit, babe.” Bam murmured from your cleavage, his voice hoarse as he looked up at you with bags under his eyes, “Fell off the skate ramp’n busted my ass. ” You reached up, cupping his face in your palm and smoothing a shiny, bubble gum pink polished thumb over his cheek as machines in adjacent room beeped softly. At least he didn’t hurt that cute little face of his, you thought, but your heart still ached. Pouting, you cooed, “You have got to be more careful! I swear, next time you break that elbow, it’s gonna turn to dust!” Bam snaked a free arm around your waist, pulling you closer as he shot a glance back at the judgy nurses and mouthing something to them about taking a picture because it would last longer.

“You should really be more careful on your roller skates if you keep getting hurt like this!” Turning back to you at the sound of your voice, Bam paused for a second and blinked in disbelief, “I don’t roller skate, Y/N. I’m a pro skater.” You nodded, smiling as you gave him a peck on the cheek, “Yeah, that’s what I said!” You had been dating for well over a year and you still hadn’t gotten that down. Still, Bam couldn’t be mad at you- you were just too cute to annoy him.

Reaching up to run a hand through his black curls, you sighed “Anyways, is there anything I can do to help you feel better?” Bam thought for a second but dismissed the first idea he had though he knew you’d be more than eager for it. He groaned dramatically, wincing, “You know, I’d kill a man for some McDonald’s right now.” Nodding over to the untouched tray of hospital food on the bedside table, he chuckled a bit at your look of shock, “Are they really feeding you that?” You gawked at the gray, unseasoned slop on the tray in horror. If you didn’t know any better, you would swear those doctors were trying to poison him! Pulling him close again, you sighed, “Oh, you poor thing…” Bam knew that he, a grown man, would be perfectly fine without you treating him like a baby bird with a broken wing, but he couldn’t deny that it felt pretty damn good. Sitting up, his lips met yours in a sloppy and gross PDA kiss. This was how you showed your love to each other, much to the annoyance of everyone around you. Some couples go to art museums together or see plays- you and Bam just ate each other's faces.

If there was one thing that could make Bam feel better, it was his girl, so he decided that as soon as he got out of the hospital, he would take you to the mall as payback for your hard work at getting him back to health. The whole time you were right by his side, compassionately listening to him whine about how he wouldn’t be able to skate for at least a month and bringing him your “homemade” baked goods to lift his spirits. Bam couldn’t ask for a better girl, even if you did forget to take the chocolate chip muffins you “baked” for him out of the plastic package you bought them in before you visited him.

☆彡

The two of you were quite the odd couple- here you have this cool rockstar bad boy with this bubbly little thing hanging on his arm. It could have been the navy blue sling around Bam’s arm (the one that wasn’t glued to your lower back, handy for when guys would ogle you) or how your skirt barely covered up the last inch of your ass, but it was most likely the smattering of blotchy, wine colored hickeys on your neck and chest that caused people to stare at you. Your boyfriend was a jealous man, and even though he thought guys who got all pissy when their girlfriends showed a little skin were idiots, he still liked to show people who you belonged to. Plus, you didn’t care that you rarely left the house without them because you didn’t mind getting them.

Sitting on the shiny metal bench at some shoe store with tissue filled boxes crowded around you, you examined one of the many pairs of heels Bam picked out for you. You originally had your eye on a pair of bright blue see-through kitten heels you saw in the window, but as things tend to go, you got a bit carried away. The pair you held, feeling the sticky black patent leather of the seven inch heel, came out of a box with the word ‘Pleaser’ written on the side in curly cursive. They were stunning, but you had some concerns, even while you stared at them with stars in your eyes, “Oh, Bam, I'm not sure if I’d be able to walk in these…” He shook his head at your hesitancy, grinning, “Don’t worry about it. You like ‘em?” With a bit of hesitancy, you nodded, and he wordlessly took them from you, putting them back in the box, “Then we’re getting them.” You giggled, leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek.

Usually Bam was pretty sensible with the stuff he picked out for you, but there was something odd about him today. Normally, your wardrobe was all pink pink pink, but the low rise leather mini skirts and vampy purple lingerie sets from Spencer’s (among other things) that your boyfriend paid for struck you as strange. As you sat down at one of those mall coffee shops together, you decided to finally ask the question, holding back giggles, “So, what’s all this for?” Bam looked down at the mountain of bags piled at your feet nonchalantly, then shrugged at you with a grin, “What? I’m not allowed to splurge on m’girl once in a while?” This was really exceeding good boyfriend behavior. You took a sip of your white mocha blendy coffee drink, “I mean, like- yeah, but this is just so much! There’s gotta be some reason you’re doing all this.”

He leaned back in his seat, looking left, then right, before leaning in and dropping his voice like he was about to tell you a secret, “Well, I got contacted by this magazine to be a guest photographer for a photoshoot, and they want you t’be in it.” God, your face just lit up. You were going to be in a magazine- an actual, real life magazine! You couldn’t believe it! Your eyes widened as you splayed your shiny acrylics on the table in disbelief, “Wait, really? Like, really really?” He nodded, smirking all cool at how giddy you got. In your excitement, you leaned across the table and accidentally grabbed his sling arm. Bam gasped in pain and you jumped back, clutching your hands over your mouth, your eyes going wide as some people turned to look at the spectacle you were putting on, “Oh my god- I’m so sorry!” But you quickly forgot about it and went back to your previous excitement while he was still recovering, “But what is it? What magazine? Vogue? Cosmo?” Your boyfriend chuckled at your eagerness, still clutching his arm as you looked up at him with those big ole eyes before clearing his throat and speaking low, “Well, it’s Playboy.”

☆彡

Ecstatic didn’t even begin to describe how excited you were. All morning before the people from Playboy showed up, you were gushing to Bam about it, following him on his heels like a puppy and prattling on about how excited you were, “I’m gonna be just like those cute girls in the bunny outfits! This is gonna be so much fun- Oh! We could even use some of the lingerie I already have! Wouldn’t that be cute?” Your boyfriend thought back to the frills, hot pink, and cheetah print that filled your underwear drawer- a far cry from the gothic-medieval idea they pitched to him. He smiled, shaking his head, “I had no idea you’d be so down for this…” Most girls generally wouldn’t be, but of course you were- this was the opportunity of a lifetime!

An hour later, the crew was there and you were all done up and dressed, complete with these black leather thigh high boots that took twenty minutes to lace up. Different from how you normally dressed, but definitely not bad. When you were ready, you went outside in one of those fuzzy robes to the set Bam rigged up- this big thing with a fire and knights with swords, very Medieval times. He was fiddling with the camera lense when you came giddily prancing over to him, “Hi, Bam!” Your boyfriend glanced up at you, looking you up and down, “Can I see what’s under that?” Nodding, you slinked the robe off your shoulders. He blinked a few times as he stared at you, shamelessly eyeing you with his jaw nearly in the ground. That tiny corset top did wonders for your boobs, and the rest of the outfit didn’t leave much to the imagination either. After a moment he shook himself out of his trance, looking back up to you, “Alright, let’s get shooting!”

You took photos outside until it got too cold, which frankly wasn't that long considering whoever organized the thing had the bright idea to shoot outside in the dead of November. Heading inside after you, Bam brushed off the dirt he acquired on his pants from having to lay army crawl style to take the photos, “You wanna get a few more?” He cracked a smile, “Maybe with a little less clothing?” Sitting down on the couch in the living room, you smiled coyly and rubbed your arms to warm yourself up as the rest of the crew filtered in, “Oh? Like how much less?” Bam shrugged nonchalantly, adjusting the camera lense as he set up, “I dunno. Naked ‘d be nice.”

“No way!”

☆彡

The two of you came to a compromise- you got to keep your underwear on while you held a hot pink skate deck you found lying around in front of your chest. A great idea on your part- you literally had Bam’s name shamelessly plastered across your tits. “Hey, Y/N? This isn’t Hustler. Can you, uh- little bit higher? Yeah, that’s it.“ Glancing down, you could hear him snicker when you realized you were accidentally exposing yourself. You giggled and blushed a little as you quickly fixed it, “Oh, sorry!” Your boyfriend murmured something to a very confused camera guy about not dating you for your brains.

All those hours of posing in the mirror for nobody but yourself in your bedroom really paid off, you thought, hearing Bam’s murmured comments from behind the camera, “Yeah, that’s it…perfect. Just like that.” Holding back giggles at all the attention you were getting, an idea suddenly crossed your mind. “Hey, Bam!” He pulled away from the camera for a second as you called out to him, a smile playing on your lips, “Let’s do one together!” Shaking his head, you could’ve sworn you saw a bit of color on his cheeks.

“C’mon! It’d be so cute- If you show your boobs, I’ll show mine!” You couldn't help from smirking as you watched him mentally weigh out the options of your very convincing argument. While the other photographers got their cameras ready, your boyfriend tugged off his shirt much to your delight as you happily tossed the deck to the side. It was a fact that you could talk Bam into anything if you asked sweetly enough. Straddling his lap as he sat low on the purple chaise lounge that he bought just for this photoshoot, you waited for the cameras to start flashing before you leaned down, capturing his lips in a sloppy kiss. Maybe you hammed it up for the camera a little, but Bam didn’t have a problem with it. Smiling at the feeling of rough, calloused hands squeezing posessively at your hips, you pulled away slightly, your eyelashes fluttering as you giggled softly against Bam’s lips, “Yr’the best boyfriend ever…”

[specialagentlokitty]

9th doctor x reader - I don’t get jealous

He’d danced with Rose, thought she spent a lot of time convincing him to dance with her, and he only did it because Jack was going to dance with her.

And they seemed so happy dancing with one another, and you couldn’t help but feel a little jealousy rise up in you.

Sure, you weren’t dating him, but he had made it clear to him how you felt about him, and maybe that’s why things had been so quiet between the pair of you.

He never confirmed or denied how he felt about you.

Sitting on one of the upper platforms of the TARDIS you frowned a little as you looked at Rose and the doctor dancing.

“Come on, it’s a happy occasion, nobody died, you should be dancing as well.”

You looked up to see the captain walking over to you, and he sat next to you with a small grunt.

“Don’t feel like dancing.”

“I don’t suppose a charming smile and an open invitation to sweep you off your feet would change your mind would it?” He grinned.

You shook your head and rested it against the wall behind you.

Jack frowned and he turned a little bit to get a better look at you.

“I know I haven’t known you long, but I know heartache when I see it. Your pinning over one of them two, and bad.”

“Don’t go there…” you mumbled.

He raised his hands.

“Alright. But all I’m saying is one dance with me and I’ll have you swooning.”

“You’re just a big flirt aren’t you? Anything with a pulse and you flirt with it.”

“Ouch, okay. Not quite everything, I have standards.”

You laughed softly and smiled at him as you turned your head to look at him.

“Come on, I’m a real good dancer.” He grinned.

“Not happening.”

“I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself, no inappropriate behaviour.”

“No flirting?”

“I can’t promise that.” He beamed.

You laughed softly and he held out his hand, this time giving you a soft smile.

“Come on, just one dance is all. A distraction until we get to wherever we’re going.”

“We’re going back to London, I told the doctor I had to go home.”

“Well, a parting dance then, how’s that?”

Jack grinned at you and wiggled his fingers, trying to coax you into taking his hand, and you did.

You slowly reached up and took his hand, letting him carefully pull you up and lead you back to the lower part of the TARDIS and around the other-side of the console.

While dancing, you asked each other questions, deciding to use this time to get to know one another better.

“So you can’t dance.” Jack laughed.

You slapped his back, making him laugh even more.

“I never had the chance to dance with anyone you ass, why do you think I’m stood on your feet?”

“Because I’m very good looking obviously.”

You snorted a little bit.

“And you’ve got one fat ego.”

You grinned at him and he grinned back, shrugging a little bit.

“And I know my worth.”

“Yeah, nothing.”

“Oh alright then, I see how it is, I could just let you fall you know.”

“Yeah but you’re a gentleman you wouldn’t.”

He grinned a little bit and you heard someone clear their throat, and you both looked at the doctor and Rise before stepping away from one another.

“We’re back in your town, are you sure you want to go through?” The doctor asked.

You shrugged a little bit.

“Got things to do, sorry.”

You hugged Rose goodbye, and you looked at Jack, and he grinned, holding his arms out and you hugged him as well before moving to the door.

“Wait actually I want to come with you! Can I come with you?”

You shrugged a little bit.

“I could use the help with some stuff actually yeah. See you guys later!”

The doctor went to hold his arms out for a hug, but you had already gone out the door, and you walked down the street.

When you were sure you were away from the TARDIS you stopped and turned to your new friend, furrowing your brows a little bit.

“Why did you want to come?”

“Why did you accept?” He countered.

“I’ve got some stuff to do, and I can’t do it on my own. Your turn.”

“I’m helping you fix this messy love life of yours, I’m telling you right now spend enough time with me and he’ll get jealous.”

“I doubt that, but whatever you’re helping me for free so.”

“I get to spend time with a very good looking person, and housing for free cause you’re going to have to house me of course.”

You rolled your eyes at him and shook your head.

Sometimes you just clicked with someone, and you became fast friends, and that’s exactly what happened with you two.

He soon became your best friend, and he was your plutonic soulmate and you were sure if it.

He’d been staying with your for a few weeks, helping you do some renovations around your place, and now he was helping you decorate.

“Why did you choose blue?”

“Because I want my bathroom to be blue obviously.”

“Okay but why light blue.”

You shrugged a little bit.

“Cause.”

He rolled his eyes and flicked some paint as you as you walked into the room.

“Alright no need for that, I’ll kick you out.”

“You wouldn’t, you love me here, I can cook, I can clean, I’m the whole package deal you know.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes at him.

“Yeah, whatever you say, I’m going to finish the garden.”

“Wait give me like ten minutes.”

You nodded and walked further into the bathroom, sitting in the bath as you stared at the ceiling.

“You’re a strange one.” He laughed.

“Well I don’t want to sit on the floor.”

“Strange.”

There was a knock on your door, and you looked at him confused.

“Expecting guests?”

“No…”

He nodded and carried on painting and there was another knock on the door.

“You going to answer it?”

“Nope.”

“Alright then.” He chuckled.

The knocking ceased, and after a couple of minute you heard the door unlock and Jack was immediately in his feet.

He gestured for you to be quiet and you nodded, and he turned the bathroom light off, and walked over to the door.

“I know you’re in somewhere!”

You both sighed and he turned the light back on.

“You can’t just go breaking into people’s homes!” You called back.

Jack opened the door and put his weapon away and peaked his head out only to take a few steps back when the doctor appeared.

“You can’t just break in.”

He looked between you and the space captain and he frowned a little bit.

“Why are you sat in the bath?”

“I asked the same thing.” Jack said.

You just shrugged a little bit and got up, sitting in the edge instead.

“What’s up?” You asked.

He looked to Jack who raised his hands as looked at you.

“Going to leave for a few hours.”

He slipped away and the doctor gestured for you to come out of the bathroom so you did, and you followed him into the living room instead.

“Why have you been avoiding us?”

“We’ve been busy doctor, I’ve got to get all this done.”

“That’s not what I mean. I meant, you’re ignoring all of the calls and texts.”

You looked at him confused before you remembered.

“Oh sorry, Jack lost my phone and I had to get a new phone and SIM card, so new number. Here.”

He took your phone and set it aside.

“You’re spending a lot of time with him.”

“He’s helping me.”

“Hire someone.”

“Too expensive.”

The doctor narrowed his eyes a little bit.

“Ask someone else.”

“I don’t see why this is your concern.”

“Because he’s not the sort of person you should be seeing.”

You blinked and stared at the doctor quietly for a moment.

“I’m not seeing him.”

“Then why have you spend the last few weeks with him?”

“Because he’s helping me do all this, no one else can. I don’t see why you’re so bothered.” You snapped.

Getting up, you stormed away and outside to start figuring out what you needed to do out there and the doctor followed you.

“Dance with me.” He said.

“I thought the world imploded if you danced.” You scoffed.

He let out a deep breath, and he walked in front of you, holding outer his hand.

“Dance with me.” He said again.

“No.”

“Just give me your hand stop being so stubborn already.”

He wiggled his fingers and you looked at his hand, then at him, and he flashed you a little grin.

“Come on.”

“I’m busy.”

“No you’re not, you were sat in the bath.”

“No.”

He sighed and let his hand fall.

“This is because I didn’t answer you isn’t it?”

You stayed quiet.

“I didn’t mean to push you away (Y/N), I just… I got confused, and I didn’t know what to do.”

“Well you made it perfectly clear don’t you worry.”

“Bloody hell (Y/N)…”

The doctor walked over and planted his hands on the sides of your face.

“I’m trying to tell you I should have told you I love you.”

“You’re just mad I’m spending more time with the biggest flirt in the universe.”

“I don’t get jealous, and I’m saying it because it’s true.”

He smiled softly down at you, and leant down, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I didn’t say anything.. then as time went on I didn’t know how..”

You closed your eyes and sighed softly.

“Don’t lie to me…”

The doctor leant forward, brushing his lips against yours.

“I would never lie to you…”

You smiled a little bit, placing your hands on his arms.

“You’re jealous…”

“I’m not…”

“Yea you are.”

He huffed a little bit, and he took a step back, taking his jacket off he placed it over your shoulders and then crossed his arms.

“I don’t get jealous.”

“Then what’s this about?”

“It’s cold.”

“It’s summer, you’re trying to prove a point to Jack.”

“I am not.”

You laughed a little, slipping your arms through the sleeves and you looked up at him.

“Yes you are, the doctor is jealous.”

“You were jealous too!” He huffed.

You slapped his arm and he grinned a little bit at you.

“So can you send him away now?”

“Nope, he still has to help me.”

“Then I’m helping too, I’m not leaving you unattended anymore.”

You rolled your eyes and walked over to the wall, and you stood in front of it, taking some notes in your head, very aware of the doctor right behind you, very away of his arms on your shoulders.

The doctor was jealous, and now he wasn’t letting you out of his sight because he was jealous and he wanted you and everybody else to know it

[kissestothezygomatic]

Hi welcome to my blog! I’m a baby bat and my online name will be Doctor / Doc , feel free to ask me anything about my interest or just chat with me. I don’t care, I’ll be happy to talk to anyone lol.

⁉️⁉️I am 13. This means I will NOT accept any comments, questions, etc discussing inappropriate or adult topics. Anyone who tries to ask something of that sort will either be blocked or kindly told to stop.

Also talk of puberty makes me uncomfortable….

Some interest I have are:

scary movies

sci-fi movies

macabre things/movies

old gothic movies

Cult classics (HMU FRANKENHOOKER FANS!!)

obviously goth music and a bit of other things as well feel free to ask!!

i do art but I’m not very good unfortunately

Team fortress 2 is my favorite game, I’m a bit ass but it keeps it fun at least, I’m literally medic irl and I need heavy pregnant

I like resident evil too!! And Roblox. I have red dead but I haven’t started it yet oops…

I like reading sometimes, I wouldn’t say I read frequently but I have read : Black eyed Susie, Frankenstein (Mary Shelley my beloved), Romeo and Juliet, and am starting a few other books sometime soon. For Christmas I got: Dracula, Dr.Jekyll and Hyde, Emily the strange ‼️, 2 Edgar Allen Poe collection books, and a few more.

I like some shows… like Ruby gloom, the walking dead, I’ve started Bo jack horseman but need to get back to it, aqua teen hunger force, happy tree friends… (don’t kill me…), Salad fingers :D, prob more I just can’t think atm…

Love weird side of YouTube things, please recommend me any!!

Im very open minded on certain topics, feel free to ask opinions on things since I don’t really like to hide my thoughts. That being said, I would like to tell any pro shippers that while I support you and hope you cope well, I would not like you on my page talking about that stuff. I don’t care if you are a pro shipper (dark/com ship I should say) but it’s not something I’d like to see.

Any art post will be tagged with #my art

Any asks (if I get any…) will be tagged with #Answers

Any random Tumblr posts will be tagged with #Random

And any repost will be tagged with #Repost

[byyliss]

okay I read the doc and I have thoughts yeah!! I still believe that some of Alex’s behavior was admittedly inappropriate and a person like him should take time off the internet and get help+I believe it is possible for a person to have 20+ victims, and I think their mindset was “people Alex perpetuated a parasocial relationship with” like idk. groupchat members or smthn. but good lord are people handling this in a really immature and extreme way. I understand being so livid and angry about someone who caused you pain. but that level of just. Everything is so. Yeah!! I’m giving the plaintiffs the benefit of the doubt on the stuff that’s not confirmed yet, but mitchas public statements are just. Not excusable!! Ive personally spoken to these people before, so maybe I’m giving them the benefit of the doubt but like. idk it looks like donut just doesn’t wanna believe that their friend could be acting like that yknow. still weird of them to brush that off though.’Idk. No clue who doctored that Alex photo. I’d like to believe it was a random person stirring the pot, but honestly like. who knows!! sorry if this is all incomprehensible but it’s such a difficult thing for me to believe that these people would go to such lengths out of genuine malice to de platform some ex friend of theirs who behaved kinda shittily. But that doc doesn’t make shit look good!! it really doesn’t !! this whole thing is just awful. Thanks for sharing that document, I’ll have to look more into all this. For right now, it seems like a bunch of young people having an insane high school drama falling out that was publicised in an extremely inappropriate way. just. wild

Hi! I understand fully where you are coming from.

Mitcha's behaviour is one I've been following up close for awhile since this all started. And I don't believe they were a victim if anything other than their own poor mental health.

Mitcha accusing anarchist of faking the sh photo makes no sense. Someone looked it up using reverse image search and found the account.

I genuenly believe Alex is a woman with poor mental health and was suffering from it. She tried seeking validation from a group she thought she could relate with as a Trans woman but due to miscommunication and and people not drawing boundaries, feelings were hurt.

If Alex is a predator, then ven knew and kept it a secret up until it was convenient.

If Alex is innocent, then they all falsely accused someone.

If you want you can DM me to discuss it or just post here. I want to look into different perspectives

[minigirl87]

Moon River & Me. Llewyn Davis x F’Reader.

Summary:-

This is just a little fluffy story to celebrate my birthday. The song Moon River is special to me as it was playing on the hospital radio as I was born. It was also my mums favourite song as she saw the movie when she was young and I remember her telling me when she was a teen in hospital, the doctor sang the song for her fixing her calliper brace. And spookily, I always hear this song around my birthday.

Lewlyn turns up at your apartment at 2am. after disappearing for a month. You help take care of him. But next morning you think he's gone and get a wonderful surprise.

So this is my first Lewlyn Davis story. I enjoyed writing this, so I hope you enjoy it. Please feel free to share and comment.

Words:-993.

2am and the doorbell to your appointment rings echo its chime through the quiet chilly rooms as you rise from your warm cosy bed. Your ginger and white cat Rami is looking up grumpily as he’s disturbed from his sleep before stretching and plopping on his side, sleeping again.

 Wrapping your thick purple and blue house coat around you and putting your slippers on, yawning as you pad into the hall, putting the light on. You knew who was at the door without even thinking. Opening the door to a rather tired and dishevelled man wrapped in almost inappropriate clothes for a freezing cold January morning.

 Looking at him, the dark circles under his eyes, the greasy bobbing ebony curls, and the strong smell of cigarettes around him. Moving out of the way to let him inside. “Come in Lew, it’s 2 am, you know” you said sleepily, trying to mask some annoyance. He looked away as he sheepishly responded “I know, sorry, but I didn’t know where else to go”

Sighing “it’s fine. I’d rather you be safe here than on the streets. You must me freezing?” Lewlyn simply shrugs “a little” shaking your head“Let’s get some heat into you” walking towards her kitchen, turning  the thermostat up and lightning the gas to boil the kettle “where have you been since you disappeared a month ago? I’ve been worried about you”

 “Here and there, no where particular’ the answers vaguely. “But I’m here now” his cheeks form the slightest rose blush to them. “yeah till you disappear again to god knows where” your tone coming of harsher in your tired state.

 His stomach grumbles loudly and with a look of embarrassment as he mumbles an apology. “I assume your hunger?” the kettle whistling in the background concocting a strange symphony with Lewlyn’s stomach.

 “I’ll get you something to get eat if you go for a bath” walking past him to the bathroom, setting the shower up and getting him towels. “I’ll the change of clothes on the bed for you, okay” Lewlyn simply nods in response and as she closes the bathroom door you almost thought you heard him say “I love you” shaking your head thinking you’re hearing things to go to start cooking something light for him.

 15 minutes later, a refreshed and relaxed man’s walks into the kitchen clean and changes. Smiling at him as he sits down “Here you go, it’s not much but should fill you till the morning” putting a plate of scrambled eggs on toast and a mug of tea in front of him. Lewlyn receives the plate and cup graciously and digs in with a contented sigh. “We really need to have a serious talk tomorrow Lew” swallowing his tea before answering with a smirk “I agree” shaking your head with a laugh “I’m going back to bed now, you okay to find your way there when you finish. Nodding his head as you stand up. You just reach your bedroom door when you hear the plate and mug in the sink and Lew’s footsteps behind you.

Next morning, you wake up in bed alone, and your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach. Getting up with a sigh, slipping into your slippers and robe, you open the your bedroom door to the soft strums of a guitar and humming only broken with Lewlyn’s voice speaking to Rami who meowed back at his questions. You knew the tune so well. With tears in your eyes, you rush to the lounge to find Lewlyn sitting crossed, legged, wearing the white t-shirt and blue boxers as the evening before, in the armchair his guitar resting his thighs.

 As you take the scene in that’s in front of you as you lean on the door frame. “you remembered the song” smiling as a tear trickled down your cheek. At the sound of your tears, your cat runs towards you, leaning into you, comforting you. “Yeah, I do” he gets up from the chair, walking towards you, enveloping you in his arms, kissing the top of your head, his scent filling your senses. then proceeding to walk you towards the chair.

As you sit in the chair, Lewlyn sits on the arm leaning down and picking his guitar up and starts to sing

“Moon river, wider than a mile

I’m crossing you in style someday

Oh, dream maker, you heartbreaker

Wherever you’re goin’, I’m goin’ your way”

 His voice sounded like honey, soothing and smooth. He hummed for a little as he strummed away at the cords you sat transfixed at this wonderfully talented man in front of you. You adored this song. It meant a lot to you. After seeing the movie the previous month with Lewlyn for Christmas.

 Your trance broke as the timbre of his voice filled your ears still as sweet, but you hear something more the way he sounds. Something longing and wanting.

“Two drifters, off to see the world

There’s such a lot of world to see

We’re after the same rainbow’s end

Waitin’ ‘round the bend

My huckleberry friend

Moon river and me”

 As he finished singing, his cheeks were rosie, and his ebony curls bounced as he smiled at you. He puts his guitar down and takes your hand, and holds it. “I can’t keep this to me myself anymore, Y/N I love you. I need to be with you if you’ll have me?”

Squeezing his hand back “I love you too, I’ve wanted you for so long. But I didn’t.....” He leans in gently kissing you.

“I know” smiling. You kiss him back with a little more passion tasting him, the taste of coffee and cigarettes. He breaks away resting his forehead and nose against you. “Happy Birthday sweetheart, I love you.”

Kissing him back “I love you too. This is a birthday I’ll never forget.”

@melodygatesauthor @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @my-secret-shame @missdictatorme @jake-g-lockley @steven-grants-world @romanarose @campingwiththecharmings @writingforcurrentobsessions2 @guruan-is-not-here @ivystoryweaver @whatthefishh @missscarlettangel @missdictatorme @lonelyisamyw-0love @madlittlecriminal @saturn-rings-writes @madlittlecriminal @gigachadcowboy @mess-of-fandom @hon3yboy @ominoose @jayke0 @theaussiedragon @reallyrallyauthor @romana-after-dark @purelyoscar

Thank you, too @cafekitsune for the deviders and borders