#TELL ME MORE TELL ME MORE /ly /pos

[rainbowpufflez]

“We belong together

Lying here forever

In the cold, cold, cold”

You’ll never believe which gays Bo’s drawing again

Song inspo if anyone wants it (aka uh-oh I gotta add another song to their playlist)

[snekdood]

i think im allowed to assume someones consuming their kinks in a harmful-to-others way if I have first hand experience with them sexually abusing me, personally.

[mirohlayo]

NOT SO JEALOUS

( Max is desperate to win your heart, but what can he do when other suitors are looking for you too? - Or in other words, the 2 times when Max denied his jealousy. )

warning : cute jealousy, sexual harassment, fluff fluff fluff

note : I think this one is cute

word count : 1.6k

You were incredibly perfect in Max's eyes. You were kind, funny, very very beautiful and adorable to everyone. You had your principles and your values and you were the most modest person in this world. To summarize, Max was destined to conquer you and your heart, because there was only you as the perfect woman.

But Max knew he wasn't the only one who saw your qualities. Other men saw in you the beautiful personality that you possessed, so naturally they also sought to seduce you, because that was all they dreamed of.

"Max, you've been staring at her for 3 minutes." Charles' eyes were mocking at the sight of his friend who seemed to melt on the spot admiring you. "How could I not? She's so... breathtaking." The Ferrari driver rolled his eyes as he went to retort.

However, looking back at Max's face, he could tell that something had changed. His jaw was clenched, his facial features more pronounced and his gaze - much darker and frightening. Charles frowned, examining his expression, as he decided to turn his head towards where Max seemed to be glaring at someone.

And a few meters further on, there was still you, in the paddock, and surprisingly, a man with a confident appearance and a dazzling smile. The dark-haired man seemed to make you laugh until you were close to tears, and Charles had also noticed the subtle touches this man was trying to do. Him too, because obviously Max had noticed that from the moment the man appeared in his vision.

"Jealous ?". Charles asked simply, curiously. Perhaps with a playful tone, which seemed to annoy the dutch. “No, not jealous.” “Not so jealous?” Charles continued again, friendly titillating the pilot next to him. Max was giving him a look that certainly screamed 'keep going and I'll kill you', so Charles didn't bother to tease him further.

But sure, his ears did not miss the curses that Max grumbled in a low voice, like a slight "anyway, he is not as beautiful and perfect as me. I am much better for her", before finally leaving with his head bowed and a pout on his face.

-

Clubbing. That word was pretty clear – dance, have fun and of course, flirt. So Max knew very well what he was going to get into when he took you to this famous little club in Monaco, your pretty navy blue dress that he adored on your body. He knew he couldn't really save you from any suitors.

You stayed by his side all evening. He absolutely didn't want to move his arm wrapped around your waist, a sign that showed others that you were potentially his. But when you kindly asked him to slip away to get some refreshments, apologizing, that's when he started to display his famous jealous expression.

“I can accompany you if you want.” Max said those words, and they sounded more like an order than a question. “Don’t worry Max, I'll be there in two minutes.” It seemed like the driver was looking for every possible excuse for you not to leave him, and you were starting to find that strange. “Max, we’re going to join Lando’s group, are you coming?” One of his close friends was yelling at him loud enough for him to hear.

His face fell as he already felt himself being dragged by the arm, seeing you disappear among the crowd. It was only a few seconds later, sitting like a sulking child who didn't get what he wanted, that he saw you sitting at the bar, impatiently waiting for your drink. You couldn't wait to join Max, because after all you'd be lying if you said you felt safe in this club.

Where Max gave you a feeling of peace and security. And this feeling of insecurity took shape when you felt an arm wrap around your shoulders and the alcoholic breath of a man older than you. His smile was scary, you tried to be as comfortable as possible but it wasn't working. “Don’t be afraid, pretty girl, I won’t do anything to you.”

Those words sounded like a lie and you inwardly begged the bartender to switch to lightning speed. The man felt more and more comfortable, his hands roaming over the bare skin of your arm. That's when you started to panic. "Sorry but I already have a boyfr-" "She already has a boyfriend, so no need to come touch her like a dirty pervert. Get out of there, otherwise I'll take you out myself."

Before your eyes, was there, Max. A look filled with disgust and fury, an expression almost similar to when he didn't achieve his goals in F1. An expression of rage and anger. You had never seen him so angry, at least just for you. The man was decomposing on the spot, and without a word he didn't bother to stay any longer.

"Are you okay, princess? Did he hurt you? Did he insult you? Do you want to go home and rest?" The way he worried about you made your heart melt, as he looked at you like you were the most beautiful and fragile thing in the world. You nodded slowly, taking the time to calm down. "I'm fine Max, don't worry. And I'd like to go home and rest, if you don't mind."

"It doesn't bother me at all, princess. Your wishes are orders." While he wrapped his jacket around your shoulders to keep you warm, you waited patiently for your Uber on the sidewalk of the club. The scene replayed in your mind, and a question tickled your tongue. "Jealous ?" The word came out naturally, and you watched as Max's cheeks flushed as he looked at you surprised. Completely in shock.

He looked away, his eyes glued to something nonexistent. “No, I just wanted to protect you.” “Not so jealous then?” You couldn't help but respond promptly, amused by his reactions. He cleared his throat embarrassed, before gently squeezing your hand that was in his. “Maybe a little, then.” That response alone was enough to make you giggle as he enjoyed the sweet melody. Maybe a little too much much after all.

-

It was your birthday. You had invited a few people, but enough so that you could organize a nice little evening. You had invited your closest friends, including two or three boys, and of course Max was one of them. Except he just wanted to be the only boy invited to your birthday.

It was perhaps immature and childish of him to think like that, but after all he had made the decision to confess his feelings to you at the end of that evening. He wanted to be the only one of the male gender who could tell you this tonight.

However, he didn't want to risk keeping you to himself all evening. It was your birthday, you were enjoying it to the fullest with your loved ones and that alone made him happy. Only, he would have liked not to have to endure your interactions with your other guy friend, who seemed to steal all your attention. He was once again displaying that terrible, tense and marked facade.

But he couldn't blame you. After all, who wouldn't want a woman as pretty as you? Except he couldn't take it anymore. To wait and endure all these hours. As you were about to blow out your candles, you slipped away to cool off in the kitchen. The guests finished lighting the last candles, and you found yourself alone with yourself and... Max.

Surprised to see him appear at first, you slowly turned to face him fully, an angelic smile on your face. Your smile that he could admire all day. “I saw you staring at me all night Max.” This sentence had the effect of a bomb on him, as his eyes widened. He thought he was at least being discreet, but it turns out he wasn't.

He scratched the back of his head nervously, feeling uneasy. “Don’t worry, I don’t feel anything for him.” He knew that you were referring to your friend because otherwise he would never have planted his gaze on yours as quickly as in this present moment. A faint giggle left your lips, amused. "Jealous ?". Max rolled his eyes playfully as he tried to hide his smirk.

“No, I don’t think I’m jealous.” You raised your eyebrows, surprised by his response. "Not so jealous, huh? Then I can go back to chat and laugh with my friend-" "NO- I... no, please. No, don't go back." He seemed completely panicked at the idea of seeing you laughing with this man he hoped to suffocate under his pillow tonight.

Suddenly, his strong muscular arms wrapped around your waist as he approached your bodies slowly. His gaze burned your skin, your eyes, but it was gentle. "I'm jealous, of course. You have no idea how much. Seeing you laughing, even just standing next to another man. I almost lost my mind. So I hope that a kiss could fix it, if you're okay with that ?" He asked in a cheerful voice.

A big smile took place on your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “I'm perfectly okay with that, Mr. Jealous.” Your lips against his were perhaps the most beautiful thing he had ever tasted. It was sweet and innocent, but full of love and emotion. "Birthday kiss, birthday gift". He laughed softly.

“Oh yeah, I saw that you didn’t make an effort to actually gift me something.” You giggled back, kissing him again. “Maybe I should have given you some pepper spray to blind the men who admire your sublime beauty.” Another laugh escaped your body as he fully savored this happy moment.

“We shouldn’t keep them waiting.” You were referring to your guests. “Absolutely not, I really need to yell at them and tell them that I have the most perfect girlfriend in the world.” And in new laughter, you joined the others, who absolutely did not expect to see you kissing each other passionately behind the smoke of your blown out candles.

[aquasoftware]

FIVE STAR MEAL…★ ★ ★ ★ ★!!

Synopsis: Married to the world's most judgmental chef also meant you feared him going anywhere near your not-so-shaved pussy.

CW: Not proofread ngl 😬, Chef! Geto, c*nnilingus, fingering, spit, praise, hair pulling, thigh hickeys, kissing, dirty talk, degrading (once), squirting, tatted!Reader, insecure! Reader, established relationship, hotel setting, you have a hairy cooter in this! Lmk if I missed sum!!

FT: Drabble.

WC: 1k || Paring : Geto x F!Reader || M.L

When your husband is globally known for having a nasty attitude as a Michelin chef, of course, you were gut-wrenchingly nervous to let him eat you out.

Every "What if?" Always scurried across your scattered brain whenever Suguru pleaded to give you oral, which you brushed aside for another day until the two of you were on vacation for your 1-year anniversary, somewhat far away from the girls, while they were at your parent's house.

Praying he wouldn't treat you like he did to other chefs that he worked with, spitting out their dishes and telling them that gobbling their food was like eating shitty toxic waste, eventually you at last mustered up the courage to let him know what you really desired.

"You sure you're not gonna mind it being hairy, or.. what if I taste bad..?" You gulped, slightly grinding teeth as fidgety eyes bounced from side to side, spouting questions at Suguru left and right.

Oh? That's what this is about; this only made him abhorrently offended; you’d think he’d judge his sweet wife and her semi-unexplored jungle. You've let him finger you a couple of times, but each time was bare since being hairy made you profoundly self-conscious. Besides that, Suguru definitely snuck a taste on his fingers, although remembering it tasting like nothing, he still was prepared to eat your pussy as if it were an addictive drug.

"Trust me, baby, I'm going to take care of you real good; you're gonna wish you let me give you head sooner." Suguru smugly reassured, folding his arms as a devious grin marched in on his face.

And whew! He wasn't lying whatsoever, going slow at first, pressing tender sensual kisses at the dime-sized tattoos in between your thighs, while you rested on your elbows vigilant as to what he was doing exactly, breath hitching whenever Suguru's smooth lips trickled closer to your core.

Your husband began to harshly suck at the sensitive skin, creating dark marks on each thigh, causing you to quietly yelp, achieving a light snicker from out of him running his soft hands all over your body as he exhaled hot, steamy breath upon your aching pussy.

"Sugu..." Whining at the way his breath grazed your lower region, subtly asking for more, too impatient for anymore foreplay, soon satisfied enough, he finally licked a thin stripe across your clit, forcing your eyes to instantly shut.

His tongue lapped at your pussy as if it were nectar, eating it like he was on death row. Feeling his wet muscle slithering above your bundle of nerves in circles passionately sucking it every now and then; body uncontrollably writhing underneath Suguru’s face.

“Oh fffuck.. keep going, mhmm..” Your lips murmured words traveling straight to your husband’s ear, providing the extra motivation Suguru needed to devour that cunt whole.

He didn’t care the next person would call him disgusting for having lots of pube hair tickle his pale nose; either way, he was still going to swish his head side to side rapidly, enjoying the way your hands found solace in his raven tresses half near yanking it out of his skull developing pathetic whimpers against your throbbing pussy.

Sort of becoming embarrassed how even little vibrations from his moans led to your back arching, not at all bothered by the cruel chilly hotel air conditioning slapping close to your fiercely warm body way too in the moment of Suguru’s lewd sounds slurping down a five-star meal.

Hoping the two of you weren’t too loud during quiet hours in the lavish hotel, there was a huge attempt to keep your poor cries reduced, but you struggled, especially when Suguru covertly added fingers without warning.

Opening droopy eyes, you stared at the way this man had two fingers inserted inside, pushing them back and forth in a come here motion.“Haah haahh, shittt, u—use your fingers like that.” Mewling as loud as a siren, his slender fingers wriggling inward your mushy tightened walls felt like heaven, such in a daze that your brain persuaded you to believe that angels were singing to you.

You swore nobody could pull him away from your cunt, but he lifted his head up, panting as if he ran laps around the world. “Dirty girl, you like when I curl my fingers like this?” Suguru serenely spoke betwixt breaths, mildly biting his lip while his almond eyes traced your frame, in love with how the cream on his fingers oozed onto strands of hair from your lower lips.

Throwing your head back towards the mattress, unfortunately too engulfed in pleasure to even answer an inquiry like that right now, his fingers continuously targeted your g-spot, resulting in a deafening sing song squeal that echoed all around the spacey hotel room.

“Hmm, I think I’ve found your sweet spot, baby…” Your man cooed as freckled, sprawled-out goosebumps formed on your arms, the tone of his voice turning you on even more while he proceeded to plunge his fingertips at the notorious spongy spot, unable to help but slam your legs around his head.

He’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt like hell, yet his drive to please his lady was stronger than the pain pounding as of now. “Aht, aht, aht, spread those pretty legs, love.” He sternly ordered, looking prideful when you immediately listened, snapping your legs back wide like a can opener.

“O-oh my godddd aaah S—suguru,” Your lips wailed out; his spit stabbing your pussy running down your plump labia, getting more and more sloppy. Suguru decided to chase after your clit once more, not knowing all these sensations attacking you at once sent you over the edge earlier than expected.

“I can’t ‘m gonna…” You slurred as Suguru’s concentrated palm rubbed against your entrance, driving your eyes to roll back, legs frantically shaking as if they’d been electrocuted. So much was going on at once; you knew he encouraged an orgasm, but you couldn’t understand what he was saying due to his fading out voice, entirely overwhelmed with arousal. The fiery pool in your stomach snapped, bucking up into his face not noticing juices bursted all over your husband.

Boosting Suguru’s confidence causing you to realize he most certainly wasn’t going to let up unless you squirted again on the white damp sheets.

9/1/24 12:46 pm

dividers by cafe kitsune + @/rookthornesartistry

may or may not be inspired by Gordon Ramsay ☹️ leave me alone okay…

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

ooh im glad!!! so, expanding on that then..

how about price with a civvi wife/gf, and when they’re talking over the phone while he’s gone, she’s being kinda cagey and definitely omitting something, but he doesn’t know what. so when he gets back home she tells him she’s pregnant? really just a lot of fluff (and maybe angst? 👀 like about how his job is super dangerous and he might not come home, so he has fears about it?? bc your angst is so good it makes me sob violently /pos)

ive never sent a request before, so if this is too specific or something, feel free to whittle it down or toss it, i don’t wanna bug you lol

have a good day hal, love u!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Our Remains

Pairing: John Price x F!Reader

Synopsis: You disliked hiding things from John. Certainly something as big as this.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Pregnancy, allusions to breeding kink & unprotected seggsy time, morning sickness, angst, major fluff at the end

A/N: This was an adorable request, Anon!! Thanks so much for sending it in.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You disliked hiding things from John. It not only felt like a betrayal of his unlimited trust in you but also a slap in the face for what you had built with each other. The both of you were always honest to a fault when it came to your relationship—like how a bird was loyal to the sky. It was an unselfish principle; a promise of pure love and devotion that transcended touch or given gifts.

You told each other things. Everything. Down to how much you had spent on groceries that day just because it was something to talk about and share; something that made you closer to one another even when you were apart. You told the Brit what you planted in the back garden—what shirt you were wearing!

But now you hold the ringing phone in your hand and for the first time in your entire relationship, you consider lying. 

Your eyes bore into the icon of John’s smiling face, head covered by a black beanie and beard tilted up softly. Affectionately, his name on the device had been changed to ‘Grumpy St. Bernard,’ but now the title made your lips go thin instead of the usual giggling reaction. No heat spreads over your cheeks; no excitement.

Just an overwhelming sense of dread.

The week had started just as the last three had. A special form of hell. At nearly six o’clock you would whip back the covers with all the fervor of a terrified rabbit being chased by a hawk; the taste of bile immediately snapping you to attention as the toilet acts as your commanding officer. 

You imagined John would get a chuckle out of that comparison, but when you’re hurling up your guts in nothing more than a pair of your boyfriend’s boxers and a tank top it’s hard to think about all that. The taste of bile was still lickable from your lips as the bathroom tile digs into your knees, ringing phone still in your palm. 

The idea of a pregnancy test slid into your subconscious in the first week of John’s two-month deployment, the tantalizing thought that was like a hook to a fish. You had pulled on the string, of course, and had instantly drowned in air. But you hadn’t taken one until now. Too nervous, perhaps. Hesitant. 

In your other hand, opposite of the buzzing phone, you held three positive pregnancy tests in a shaking grip. Pink and white plastic mock you from the corner of your vision; two double lines. 

John’s icon dims. 

You press the green circle in your panic, mouth opening and closing yet no sounds escaping. Would you tell him now? Later? Was it right to tell him about this now—when he was halfway across the continent? Fear overtakes your heart for no apparent reason. You didn’t want him to act rashly, especially when John could act so stubborn when he wanted to. 

He was always so concerned about you when he was away but you were concerned just the same. That man was the one who was getting shot at constantly, not you.

“Took you a while to answer. Trying to give me the slip, then, Sweetheart?” John’s gravelly voice helped slightly, making your heart still, even if for a short moment. You close your eyes and tilt your head down, lips quivering at the soft chuckle over the line.

God, you loved him so much.

Blue eyes furrowed in confusion at the silence on the line, the chilled Switzerland air sneaking inside John’s compression shirt as he stood on the hotel balcony. The sounds of gentle conversation twitch his ears from inside the room—the voices of the One-Four-One a dull mumble behind the half-closed sliding door. They had been playing cards before the Captain had easily slipped away to check up on you. 

He tried to call as often as he could. 

John’s hips shift, one arm crossed over his chest as the other presses the phone harder to his ear. Lips pull to a frown, beard bristles going with them, before the lines on the Brit’s forehead grow larger.

“...Love?” Naturally, a sliver of concern wedges itself into his ribs but it subsides when your calming voice spreads honey over the call. John’s shoulders fall back down. 

You breathe deeply, hands dropping the tests onto the bathroom counter with a small clack of plastic. 

“John,” forcing away the hitch to your words, you stare at yourself in the mirror, free hand sliding up to lightly rest over your collarbone as a soothing method. Your eyes are so filled with shock that it throws you off. “I…I wasn’t expecting a call so soon.” 

“Hm, been up since 0500.” the man grunts, looking out over the city and seeing the rising sun before asking softly with a deep-set brow. There was something about your tone…lids narrow at nothing. “Did I wake you?” 

“No, no,” You force a chuckle, having to take a deep breath before ripping your sights from your own reflection. The disgust was settling at you trying to avoid this. But if your own brain could barely process this right now, what gave you the right to tell John when he wasn’t here? “I’ve been up for a few hours.”

Licking your lips, you run a hand over your hair, glancing out of the ajar door into the master bedroom, pushing out bland answers for only the fact that you couldn’t think clearly right now.

Jesus, this was actually happening. 

You study the thrown covers from your morning rush to the bathroom, seeing the pictures on the nightstand and feeling the delicate atmosphere that was sparking—electricity between atoms. A silent moment of realization that everything down to the bare bones of your relationship was about to change. Blinking back to the tests, you dwell in the strange fuzz that took residence in the back of your mind. 

“What’s been going on?” Your voice isn’t right. Too tight. Too…nervous. Why were you nervous? “Everyone good?” 

The Brit frowns stiffly, shifting his feet again and sending a look back into the hotel. Hunching forward, John’s large fingers fix the position of the phone as his voice lowers, ignoring your question entirely. He doesn't want to jump to conclusions, but there were pros and cons to his line of work. 

Above all, he knew when something was up with you.

“Are you alright over there, Sweetheart?” Blue eyes rove the street below, “Feelin’ okay? You sound a bit stuffed up.”

Your heart lurches, quickly stuttering through an explanation of, “O-oh, I think I just came down with something.” The irony wasn’t lost on you. “A stomach bug,” you cringe, “I’m sorry, was it that obvious?”

The laugh that exits is less convincing than you thought it would be, but it does the trick. John sighs in relief, chuckling as he shakes his head.

“No need to apologize, Love…anything bad, then? I can bring some meds from Base when I’m back if you need me to.” He was still concerned for you, but knowing that you’d never lied or withheld the truth from him before there was really no reason to believe that anything else was going on. John trusted you to the end of the earth. 

The Captain rubbed at the back of his neck, cracking his spine as he bent back. It was still early and waking up on a hotel bed without you beside him was torture. John longed for home. Longed for you.

Back at the house, your face scrunches together. 

Bad? You wonder, saying absentmindedly that some medication would be lovely. Was this…bad? 

John had always wanted to have a kid—or, at least, he’d told you as much when he was above you, filling you to the brim and then doing it again a second and third time. Thighs quivering and eyes fighting to stay open through layered bliss as sharp pants rung in your ears. 

“Gonna get you pregnant…watch you swell up…c’mon sweet thing, you can handle another one, can’t you? Need to watch it take.” 

…But was that a true feeling or just a kink? You blank and realize you’d never asked him. More than that, though, was this what you wanted? 

“When do you think you’ll be home, John?” You speak softly, palm flattening over your stomach as you exit the bathroom and sit on the end of the bed, gut swirling but not in a nauseous sort of way. “I…I really miss you, y’know? It would all be better if you were home.”

The brunette blinks softly, lids peeling back in shock for a moment before a thin thread of guilt worms its way into him. 

“Kate said two months, Love,” John speaks slowly, the grumble in his voice trying to convey his unease at your strange behavior, “You know that.”

He’d explained his job when you both had gotten serious, how he would be gone for long periods of time, and the somewhat uncomfortable situations you’d be put in because of it. You’d agreed and never brought it up when John would have to leave in the small hours of the morning and disappear for months on end. It shocked him, really, with how well you adjusted but that was just how you were. One of a kind. 

There was no one else with whom John could see himself building a life—being buried beside in some nice meadow grave plot and turning to dust together. Growing a family with. 

John cleared his throat, tilting his head down slightly before pulling himself back to the present. 

“It’s bothering you that much, eh?” His brows furrow, “Are you sure you’re alright? I can call hospital and—”

“No!” You slap a hand to your mouth, halting your outburst as blue eyes go somewhat wide, jaw slackening. Taking a breath over the shocked silence over the line, you dig your fingers into your cheek before letting your limb drop. “No, John…I-I’m sorry I just…” 

Your voice quivers.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…

Eyes burning and nose twitching, you breathe heavily, mouth closing shut because you knew that if you say another word you’ll explode. You were shivering with cold sweat, scared and confused, and wanting John to hold you in his arms; whispering that it would all be okay into the shell of your ear. 

You force through a sob, “I’m just really scared.”

John tenses, one hand going to grasp the balcony with white knuckles. His mind goes into overdrive. “Scared?” the Brit prods, muscles going stiff and mind running, “What in the hell is going on?” 

Authority leaks into his tone, serious and deep. It made him nervous that he couldn’t see you right now—couldn’t stop the sounds coming from your mouth. Why were you crying? Has something horrible happened to you? Were you in trouble but were unable to tell him? John runs over your conversation again, every word and sound, as his heart races. He was wound up like a spring. 

From behind him, the conversation in the hotel room halts. 

You force your eyes closed, now up on your feet and pacing. Tears lightly patter to the floor. 

“John, I can’t tell you over the phone,” you admit, shaking, “that wouldn’t be…wouldn’t be fair to you.” Swiping at your eyes, you spread the salty liquid away from your lashes, sniffling; praying that he would understand. “But I really need you home as soon as you’re able. I don’t want to break up what's going on over there, it’s just really important. I don’t think I can wait two months by myself. You know I would never ask this if I didn’t need to.”

John’s jaw clenches, legs unable to stay still as your anxiety leaks to him. He’s nodding before he realizes you can’t see him, taking a deep breath to fill his lungs. 

“...I’ll see what I can do, then.” The brunette runs his hand over his beard pulling at the strands aggressively. What was so crucial that you can’t tell him over the phone? It was a secure line, John always made sure it was; yet, at the same time, that fact didn’t matter at all. If you needed him home so fervently—then he was coming home. That was that. “How long can you wait for me, Love?” He spares a glance inside. “There are a few loose ends that need to be taken care of here. Might complicate things.” 

You blink around the bedroom, hand wrapped around your middle and trying to run soothing circles into your skin. 

“I…I don’t…” John’s face softens, closing his eyes.

“Breathe, Sweetheart,” he whispers, “I’m comin’ home to you. We’ll get whatever this is sorted, yeah? I need you to be brave for me until then.”

Listening, you let the words calm you down, sniffling one last time like a kid who had fallen off the monkey bars before you let out a chuckle. John instantly follows his own advice when that sound wafts over the line. His shoulders fall back once more, silent sigh exiting.

“You said that exact same thing to me when I ended up burning that loaf of bread I was making—two years ago, was it? ‘Breathe, Sweetheart.’” Blue glimmers with love, cheeky tone growing. 

“Hm, nearly set the kitchen on fire, didn’t you? So much smoke I swore someone had set off a charge in the oven.” John doesn’t push you to answer him, though he’s more questions than anything else at this point. You’d said you would tell him when he’s home and he believes you. “Please, Love, at least promise me you didn’t burn the bloody house down, yeah?” 

A laugh strikes his chest, and he’s chuckling slowly in retaliation. 

“I promise, John.”

“Good.” You’re smiling for the first in what seems like ages, tears drying as the flood down your chin stops. You lick away the water stuck in the corner of your mouth when John grunts lowly, “I’ll tell the boys and inform Laswell. But I can’t say it’ll be less than two weeks.”

Nodding to yourself, you say, quietly, “Okay.” Your eyes fall to the framed picture on the nightstand—the image of John and you smiling brightly on your third anniversary. You’d gone hiking, both sweaty and dirt marks on your cheeks, but happy…always happy. Your veins pump blood faster. “I love you, John.” 

The final comment is tender; the words are more silk and soft furs than vibrating vocal cords. 

He blinks away the blush that lights his pale cheeks. John huffs, an infectious smile flickering over his face as his chest wells with affection. Acting like a bird preening itself, he smirks and says, “Well, you’re lucky then…I love you too, Sweetheart.” An exhalation echoes over the call as his tone drops, “Keep safe for me, eh? I’ll call to update tomorrow.” 

“I’ll be waiting.” 

When the phone is set down on the bed, tossed down carefully, you try to think over this situation more rationally. You wouldn’t say you were against this—building a family with John. In fact, if not him, then you don’t believe it would be anyone else. 

The Brit was the only man for you. You both knew the risks of having unprotected sex and in reality, you think neither one of you cared about the consequences. 

Nodding to yourself, you wonder how to explain this to him when he comes home as you get to fixing the sheets, one hand always drifting back to your stomach with a growing appreciation.

—

John jogged to his car in the underground parking garage, unlocking it with his fob as his bags are slung over his shoulders. He wastes no time chucking his belongings into the back seat, swiftly sliding into the driver's seat and slamming the door shut as the engine starts. His dog tags bounce on his chest, but he’s half convinced they move from the rate that his heart is going alone.

All through traffic his fingers are tapping against the wheel, grunting stiffly at red lights and shifting his hips. 

It had been three and a half weeks of fixing loose ends. 

“Fuckin’ hell, c’mon,” John huffs, one elbow on the car frame as his hand flattens over his lower jaw. The light slowly snaps back to green after a long minute. 

Pressing on the gas, the vehicle moves forward and continues until the familiar home comes into view on that quiet street nearly twenty minutes later. 

John barely parks the car before he hops out, leaving his bags in the back, and rushes to the door. Taking the key from under the doormat, his mind is focused on only you. He had been unable to stop his worry about you and your unnamed fear, watching the phone with every free instance he could. It had only grown as the days got longer, and no matter how much you assured him that you would be okay until he got back, deep-seated apprehension grew. He didn’t like living under a shroud, especially when it came to your health.

The key in his hand was inserted with a firm wrist and twisted, shoving open the door with a heavy shoulder like there was a cloud over his head.

“Love?!” He calls, not bothering to shuck off his boots before looking around the visible living room and foyer. “Where are you?” 

Long legs move swiftly as an utterance calls from the kitchen, barely taking the time to close the door behind him in his anxiety, “John?” 

The Brit immediately backtracks, skidding to a stop and turning with blinking eyes. His ears twitch at the sounds of dishes being dropped back into water, as his heart steadily slows at the sound of your beautiful voice calling his name. 

He rushes around the doorframe, feet stomping and hand catching the wall as you come into view, staring wide-eyed. 

Your digits are around the fabric of a dish towel, fingers dripping as John finally presents himself to you. You hadn’t heard him until he had called out, too preoccupied with your own thoughts to hear the lock click. 

But now it was like every worry you had was wiped clean at the sight of that gruff face; the hitch in his large chest. A smile slashes your lips after a moment of shocked silence.

“John!” You laugh, rushing forward, and the man lets his face soften—bringing you close to him as you draw near and trapping you in his arms. 

His breath spread out over the top of your head in a great sigh, grumbled chuckles accented by the way John’s great hands wrap around your shoulders. Fingers press you into a solid chest, digging through hair to let your ear twitch at the sound of his heartbeat. 

John doesn't speak until he has held you in his arms for at least three minutes, just pressing his face into your scalp and feeling your warmth against him. You don’t pull away either, breathing in his musk as it instinctually leads to your muscles loosening. 

Minutes later, the Brit pulls back slowly, gripping you by the shoulders and looking down into your eyes. His gaze filters over yours, taking you in before his lips meet yours in a brief yet deep kiss. You melt into it, hands going to grip his cheeks and spread throughout his beard hair, soft strands leaving you shivering when John’s thumbs rub circles into your flesh. 

He pulls back and you fight the tears in your eyes as he connects his forehead with yours. His optics shine with love, bleeding out like trapped stars; silver flecks of devotion and a blue the color of sea storms.

“What’s going on, Love?” John whispers, concern alight and raving as his grip goes to your waist, squeezing comfortingly. “I’m here. Tell me.” 

You blink slowly, lips going thin with tight brows. Swallowing through a tight throat, you nod. 

“Can you go sit in the living room, please?” Speaking carefully, you tilt your head and watch John get confused—his nose scrunching and moving his lips together. You run your thumbs over his cheeks and smile slightly, obviously nervous again. “Trust me.”

Though it wasn’t a question, John replies under his breath, “Always.” 

But still, he holds you, studying your expression and the whites of your eyes with stiff lungs. You were making him fear that something horrible was coming—something he couldn’t control. His heart begins to hurt, but he backs away from you, brows tight as he exits the kitchen and disappears into the living room. 

Taking down a swift breath when he’s out of sight, you fiddle with your fingers above your abdomen, looking down at your still-flat stomach. You knew it was stupid to worry, but how could you not? It wasn’t every day you just told your Lover you were pregnant with his child…

“John loves me,” you mutter to yourself, nodding and getting ready to go through with the plan you’d formed over the three weeks you’d been alone. “And he’ll love the both of us. I know he will.” 

Hand flattening over your stomach, you open a drawer with the other, pulling out a small cardboard box no bigger than a book. Fingers shaking, you lick your lips and feel the slight pull of a nervous, yet giddy, smile. Turning, you exit the kitchen and see John sitting with his nose resting above the clench of his fists, foot tapping. His head immediately snaps over when you come into view, hands falling to hang off his legs as the couch under him dips from his weight. 

You steel yourself and raise the box. 

“Here.” Placing it on the coffee table, you sit across from John in an armchair. 

He blinks slowly, eyes going small with curiosity. The man sends you glances through his lashes as he stares down at the object but he says nothing. Rubbing his beard with one hand, he reaches and grabs it carefully. 

Testing the weight, John is genuinely confused, clenching his jaw and feeling the material in his palm. 

“...What’s this, then?” He asks lowly, glancing at you with a raised brow and lines on his forehead. 

You put your intertwined hands in your lap, prompting with a tilt of your shoulders. 

“Open it.” Off put by your cryptic answers, John nods firmly, grasping the top of the box and pulling lightly, careful not to disturb the contents. It was strange to think, but he was honestly quite perturbed. 

What exactly was inside this box, and why had he been called home for it? He loved being here, no doubt, but the circumstances….

Blue eyes glimmer. You didn’t look overly afraid as you shifted in your seat, just plain timid—like the inside object would change something fundamental about his and yours relationship. 

John pops the top off and looks as you start talking before your throat threatens to shut you up. “I…I know it’s not a life-threatening thing to call you home for,” the man stills as if he was made of stone; a statue as non-breathing and pulse-less as anything, “But I didn’t want to tell you over the phone because that seemed so—!” 

Your voice is drowned out as John’s shaking fingers delve into the box, ears ringing. His fingers flinch off of three positive pregnancy tests and the soft fabric of the plain army green baby onesie that surrounds them; skimming slowly. 

“I found out the day you called and I said I had come down with something.” Your laugh is strained when it exits you, and you stare at the Brit hard, seeing his features utterly halt all expression. Thumbs digging into your skin, your tone drops, speaking slowly, “...John? A-are you okay? Say something to me, Love.” 

It’s only in that long minute of nothingness that you really start to get an all-consuming tenseness to your bones like a rabbit. 

Why isn’t he saying anything? 

John clears his stiff throat, blinking rapidly as he brings out one of the tests, dropping the box lightly to the coffee table with a dull thump. The twin red lines are ingrained into the softness of his retinas as the sun would be if you were to stare directly at it. 

Pregnant. 

His heart swells to an almost painful degree, blue eyes moving to look at you across the table and then dipping to your stomach. The Brit stands up slowly. 

Your lungs are tight, lids moving quickly with wetness growing in your tear ducts. 

“Please, John, what are you thinking—?” Large hands capture your arms, bringing you up as lips meet yours in a passionate and heart-stopping kiss. 

John’s limbs wrap around your hips, bringing you up into the air as gently as a bird, face parting from yours with a series of loud and genuine laughs. You snap your arms around his neck, shocked but not at all complaining as he holds you up with ease, twirling you around in a firm but ever-gentle hold. 

“You’re pregnant?” His whispers meet you, airy and deep with awe. It was like he was in his teens again, running around Herefordshire with his mates—his eyes shone with happiness; pure unabashed love. “Oh, truly, Sweetheart?”

Tears dribble down your cheeks at the sight of him glowing, beard peeled back in a large smile with wet eyes. Hiccuped giggles leave your lips as you nuzzle your face into his neck, the sight of him like this overwhelming. All stress leaves you in a millisecond when your feet hit the ground again. 

“Yes, John,” you sob, overjoyed, pulling back so you both can stare into each other's teary eyes as the Brits’ fingers go to shakily wipe the waterworks from your under eyes. His orbs flicker quickly, looking you over in an entirely different light. “You’re going to be a father.” 

He fights through a scratchy voice, “Me?” The tone is amused, but he can’t articulate how exalted he feels to hear that. A father…him? It was more than he could have ever asked for, and, even better—John whispers out, “You’re going to be a mum.” 

You kiss him, multiple quick pecks that he returns through shared joyous chuckles.

“I didn’t want to tell you over the phone,” the confession meets the air as one of John’s hands travels to cup your flat abdomen, fingers flinching over the fabric of your shirt to sneak under. You laugh and shiver at his calluses, as his blue eyes are so soft they could be compared to butter. “And I couldn’t wait two months.”

“Christ, Love,” John lays a kiss on your forehead, needing to be as close to you as possible. You can feel his heart through his chest, and you know yours isn’t any better. This was far more than you could have hoped for. He mutters against your skin, “I’m so glad you didn’t. This is bloody amazing news—I want to be here for all of it.” 

Sea storms lock onto your face with a grunt, “You’re so lovely. Perfect, yeah?”

His warm hand still rests under your shirt, and you doubt it’s going to leave anytime soon.

You feel your cheeks heat and you smile bashfully, heart about to explode.

“You are.” John reiterates. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect, Sweetheart. I’m so happy.” 

The air is ripe with tenderness, a soft state of being that just keeps getting better. John had silent tears dripping down his face, blinking to clear them and not letting you leave his hold for a second. 

“Oh, John,” you whisper, digging your fingers into the back of his shirt, looking up. “Me too, Love.” 

While the glee is nearly physical enough to grab, there is a moment of hesitancy in the Brit. He was gone more times than not for work; put into situations that could leave him going through bodily harm. You didn’t deserve that stress—didn’t deserve to sit at home with a swelling stomach just watching the door and wondering if you’d have to become a single mother. You had a child in your womb. His child. Both of yours’ child. 

A family that you both had made.

John swallows and says to you seriously, without an ounce of hesitation in his blood, “I’m telling Laswell to pull me out,” you blink up and listen, letting him continue as his press on your flesh gets even more prominent, nodding to you, “I’m not missing this—not putting you through that worry. Two years, then I’ll head back in. We have enough saved, I give you my word you’ll want for nothing.” 

Blue eyes flicker down, and a small mumble so tiny it nearly disappears hits your ears. You almost start sobbing again. “This is more important. You both are more important.” 

There were few moments in your life that you think you’ll remember when you are old, weathered and wrinkled, but this you tell yourself is one that you will carry to your grave. John and yours’ grave. 

What remains behind, you ask? Simple.

White bones entangled with an eternity of deathless worship, and the generations that will come to lay flowers on the headstone.

TAGS:

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[binsito]

puppy

pairing: puppy hybrid!seungmin x puppy hybrid!fem reader

word count: 1.3k

rating: mature, includes: unprotected sex, swearing, lots of breeding and mentions of breeding/being in heat, little bit of oral (f receiving), and clit simulation, usage of the words "pup," and "good girl" in a sexual setting

seungmin was a very good boy.

an obedient pup.

and he liked being that way anyways. liked making his owner proud and happy. liked having a good life, and being treated with upmost care, being pampered and spoiled.

he knew he was his owner's favorite boy and he liked that title very, very much.

he would do anything to make his owner happy. so when he hears him say his name on the phone one day, (puppy ear pressed against the door to listen closely), he can't help but wag his tail in excitement.

he could make out some of the words being discussed.

heat.

breed.

help.

they wanted seungmin to help with someone's heat?

if one of his owner's friends needed help, he was more than willing to oblige.

he was more than happy to breed the poor pup in distress over her heat.

seungmin had never had a rut with someone else, he always just took care of himself, whether it was humping one of his plushies or jerking his cock to completion.

but he would be lying if he said he didn't think about spending a rut with someone. how fun it would be to pump them full of his pups, how he'd love to cum in them over and over again until they're writhing underneath him.

his owner made plans with his friend and they decided to bring seungmin over the weekend to take care of the situation at hand.

--

seungmin was excited.

bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited for his owner's friend to open up the door.

it was finally the big day and he couldn't help but dream about this moment. it was all that was on his mind whenever he would curl up in bed.

would her pussy be pretty? would it suck him in easily? or would she be tight? would his knot take?

so many questions that he needed to know the answer to.

and when the door gets opened, he has to contain himself from running inside.

oh god, he could smell her.

the scent was so strong that it could make his mouth water.

his owner's friend welcomes them in and offers them something to drink before leading them to the room where his pup was currently in.

the scent was making seungmin go absolutely mad. he wanted to break through the door and take her already.

he opened the door and seungmin could see her bundled up in the middle of the bed. they let him inside and closed the door, the two of them would leave and come back in about two hours, plenty of time for seungmin to have his fun.

seungmin got on the bed and made himself over to you, nudging you gently with his hand.

"hey pup.. you okay?" he whispered

you whimpered as you shook your head

"h-hurts s'bad.."

"i know pup.. it's okay.. im here to make it feel better yeah? will you let me make it feel better?"

you didnt hesitate to nod, you knew about the arrangement and were just so glad he was finally here to help.

"good girl.. gonna take care of it okay?"

you nodded yet again and lifted your head to look over at him. he was cute, floppy brown hair covering his eyebrows. sweet sympathetic smile as he stroked your arm gently. he introduced himself as seungmin and you repeated his name gently before telling him your name.

"pretty name for a pretty pup.." he said as he leaned in towards your neck, taking in your scent and letting out a pleased sigh.

"you smell so good pup.. are you gonna let me have you? i've been going crazy thinking about it.."

"p-please.. don't want it to hurt anymore.."

"alright, alright.. just be good for me okay?"

of course you'd be good to him, you'd be pliant and well behaved just for him.

your core clenched around nothing, feeling as he got on top of you, rubbing his clothed erection against you.

"feel that pup? that's for you.." he whispered against your ear

you reached forward and tugged on his pants, needing to free him as soon as possible because you needed the relief.

seungmin didn't want to keep you waiting either, tugging his pants and boxers down as his cock sprung free. the tip was an angry red, precum already dribbling at the tip.

he asked you to lift your hips up so he could take your shorts off, pulling them off and tossing them off the side of the bed.

and your pussy was in fact pretty, glistening with wetness, lips puffy and waiting to be spread.

oh, seungmin was definitely going to enjoy this.

he dragged a lone finger between your folds which elicited a whimper from you. collecting some of your essence just so he could taste it off his fingers

"shit pup.. this tastes delicious.." he grunted before coming down to be face to face with your cunt.

he began to give it little licks before he started to lap at it hungrily which made you lose your mind. the sensation of his tongue on your cunt was something you never knew you needed before and now you were afraid you wouldn't be able to live another heat without it.

he was messy, face smeared with your wetness as he looked up at you with half lidded eyes, keeping eye contact as he spit down on your cunt.

he pulled himself up again and let his tip prob at your entrance, you wiggled underneath him in hopes that he would just put it in already.

"patience, pup.. gotta train this pussy to take me kay? don't want it to hurt, when i put it in hm?" he gave you a half smile as he held the base of his cock, running it between your fold just before pressing the tip in.

his cockhead was thick and bulbous, you knew the stretch was going to leave you sore but the soreness would feel so much better than the pain of being left empty during your heat.

he presses in inch by inch, kicking his head back to groan as you sucked him in. he gripped your thighs and folded them over your chest as he bottomed out, holding you down in a mating press.

if he was here to breed you, he was going to make sure his cum would stick.

"oh pup.. once i'm done with you.. you won't have to worry about another heat for a while.." he groans as he started to shallowly thrust into your warmth. "gonna leave you so full of my puppies.."

your whimpers filled his ears, hands trying to claw at him to pull him closer even though he was already skin to skin with you.

this was so much better than his hand, your cunt so tight and welcoming, so breedable..

his bangs sticking to his forehead as he began to sweat, his muscles lean yet he had an iron grip on your thighs

his balls began to tighten, he wasn't sure how long he could last but even if he came, he knew he would be able to go again and again. your cunt was just too good to not abuse.

his nimble fingers rubbed tight circles on your clit all while his cock continued to leave you babbling.

"f-fuck.. oh fuck.. you gonna take my cum?"

you nodded and his chest swelled with pride, coming down to lick at your cheek playfully as his knot began to swell. you whined as he pushed in to the hilt and held himself still to fill you up, his hot seed leaving you full.

he didn't want a drop to go to waste, not moving until he was sure he was completely milked.

you were dreading him pulling out, clenching your cunt around him so that he wouldn't. he just chuckled and pressed a kiss to your pretty lips.

"so greedy.. i promise i'll give you more, not gonna give out until im sure i've bred you."

please refrain from reposting, modifying, translating, copying or stealing my work. - © binsito

[cat9901234]

She's got your genes

summary: you and Lewis Hamilton's daughter suddenly took an interest in go-karting whilst your husband was racing and proves she's definitely both you and Lewis' kid.

warnings: nothing but cute fluff.

Named daughter: layla.

When you found out you were pregnant in 2015, you were the least to say terrifyingly worried about telling Lewis with the rise of his wins, the drama, and change of careers plan for the both of you. But nonetheless, the two of you worked through the first rough two years together and Lewis proved to be a wonderful father.

You managed to get your career to settle down in Kensington home when your daughter was five and when the both of you could afford to see Lewis at his races that had always seemed to lift his spirits (and an ongoing suspicion amongst the younger F1 fans that Lewis always performed better when the two of you were around since before your little girl started school and you being more present at his races performed at his best.)

Layla, your beautiful little girl was the perfect mix of the both of you. She had Lewis’ spirit and sass as a youngster and your beauty and compassion Anthony, Lewis’ father would say. Lewis would always try to get as many video calls and flights back to London as possible where the two of them had formed a very close bond, and were always found either cuddled up on the couch as they watched a movie whilst she talked about as much as she could about in the time Lewis was gone or playing outside in the backyard with a soccer ball and Roscoe not too far off. 

As much as you tried from keeping Layla’s appearance and face out of the media, whether that be always making sure she’s wearing sunglasses or a hat, there was always either a fan’s shot or a lucky paparazzi at the paddock who managed to a glimpse when she took her sunglasses off to rub her eyes or when they felt uncomfortable. Speaking of the paddock, she was much adored by the drivers; especially Sebastian and George where a viral video went around when she was five of her and George hugging and declaring how he was his best friend. 

It was Friday night for the two of you in Kensington, and you were finishing off a meeting call with your colleagues when, just after you logged off, a knock came from your door. 

“Hey Lay, did you manage to work out the question?” you queried. 

“Yeah, it’s all good,” your eight-year-old nodded. “Hey mum?”

“Yes?” you hummed getting up.

“Can I go-karting? Like a race?” 

You stood there a bit shocked at her sudden interest. 

“You want to race?” 

“Yeah,” she smiled.

“Why the sudden interest sweetie?” you crouch to her level, your tone curious but laced with a familiar warmth that your daughter always sought.

“I can’t tell you. It’s a secret,” she whispered.

“Really now?” you put your hands on your hips, mirroring her sass. Layla giggles in response. 

“Mum!” she exclaims. 

“Well can I guess?” Layla thinks about it before nodding her head. 

“Is it because you wanna be like daddy?” you pretended to think by putting a finger in your chin.

“No, not really,” she shook her head. She didn’t seem like she was lying.

“Hmm, is it because you want to do it for fun?”

“Sort of,” she grins. An all too familiar grin that was nothing but identical to Lewis. 

You sigh loudly. She had go karted when she was a bit younger once or twice for birthday parties.

“Mummy Please! I really need to do this,” she pulls out a very folded and creased flyer of an upcoming open to all go-karting tournament. 

“Honey. That’s in like two weeks,” you read the key dates. 

“Yeah, but if I practise everyday after school! I promise I’ll still do my homework!” she pouts. 

“What about the go-kart? Where are we gonna get that?” you raised a brow. 

“What about my old go kart that we used for birthdays?”

“Baby, you haven’t used that since you were four. It’s going to be a bit small.”

“Uhhh… what about the go-kart that uncle George got for me last christmas?” She reasons. You had honestly forgotten about that poor thing left in the garage untouched, better yet it was disassembled.

Damn her mini-Lewis genes.

“Sir Lewis Carl Davidson Hamilton, what did you say to our daughter?” You glare through the phone.

“Have I ever told you darling you look especially beautiful today?” He sweats.

“What did I say to our daughter darling?”

“Well that’s what I’m asking you Lew. It seems our daughter has taken a sudden interest in go-karting,” you say watching his eyes widen. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, there’s a race in like two weeks she really wants to compete in,” you hum. “When I asked her why she had your grin written all over her. Something’s up and I’m going to figure it out.” 

“When’s the race?”

“[random date]” you sigh. “I already checked, you have a race that same day, and it’s almost a seven hour flight.”

“Fuck,” Lewis dragged his hand down his face. “Fuck, I’m going to miss our daughter’s first race.”

“It’s fine Lew. I’m not sure at the exact times but maybe I can facetime you during one of the races. It goes on all-day.”

“Alright. Maybe send the time and we schedule something from my end.”

“Sent-, Layla what are you doing still up?” your head turns to the direction of her coming down the stairs in her pyjamas. 

“I was throwing my tissue box, mummy and my bin is full-, hi daddy!” she exclaims, her eyes widening. 

“Hey! Mummy told me you're going to do a go-karting race!”

“Yeah,” she nods, leaning her chin on the edge of the couch. “I told mummy that I’m going to work really hard. We’re going to build the car together-, and I’m going to practise everyday after school after I finish my homework and in the mornings as well.”

“That’s really good to hear sweetie. I’m so proud of you. Mummy and I are going to try to organise for me to video call you guys when I can, okay. It will be just like I’m there.”

“That’s fine daddy, me and you can race when you come back!” she suggested enthusiastically. She knew well of Lewis’ job and what it demanded, and although sometimes it saddened her she got eventually used to it in the best way possible with Lewis making an effort to video call her.

“Of course Lay,” Lewis smiled warmly. “Oh yeah, mummy was telling me that you wouldn’t tell her why you didn’t want to race.”

“Yeah, I’m the one taking you to these practices,” she ruffled her locks. 

“Well… it’s because last week, me and my friend and another group were talking about cars. I don’t know why. But like then my friend Katy-, who also does go-karting says that it’s pretty weird and lonely cause she’s the only girl-, so then I said we can race together so she’s not lonely and that it will be fun!”

“Aww, that’s very sweet of you honey,” you kiss her cheek. “But are you sure as well this is something you want to do as well.”

“Yeah! It seems really fun and daddy did it when he was younger and he made lots of friends as well! So I’ll make more friends too!” she yawned. 

“Alright sweetie, I think that’s a sign for you to go back to bed. Say goodnight to daddy.”

Layla leans over and sends him a flying kiss and Lewis pretends to catch it making her giggle.

---

When the two of you practised, three sometimes when Lewis would join on a facetime, and four when Anthony would join as well when he heard his granddaughter took an interest in the sport, it was alarming to say the least how well she absorbed techniques and small critiques that Lewis and Anthony would suggest. But beyond that, what you were more thrilled about was how her serious demeanour the moment she hopped off her go-kart would always switch to a wild smile, or when she fell or crashed she would always shake it off and laugh.

When the race day came, you purposefully signed her name up with your last name for extra caution and wanting her to focus on enjoying the day. She had been excited to meet up with her friend and noticed as well how well during each of the rounds how sociable she was with the other racers and converse with them, as she would often come running back to you and Anthony saying how she made a new friend. 

In terms of racing. Well, it was safe to say although she had a rough start that you suspected was her nerves, she completely dominated the track as the two of you would cheer loudly no matter what.

Feeling your phone buzz loudly, you picked up and immediately answered the facetime request with a panicked Lewis. “Did I miss the last race? I swear I was trying to get out of that interview but he wouldn’t shut up.”

“It’s fine. She made it to the finals, she’s starting third look,” you turned the screen around to the track where your daughter was sitting in the kart ready.

“Omg! Go baby!” he yelled loudly through the phone.

‘Welcome one and all to the finals of the eight to nine year old division.’ The speaker announced.

Once the quick inspection finished, the moment the race had begun Layla’s car struggled and began to get hit behind the cars behind as they passed her. 

“It’s alright baby!” You yelled as she finally got the car working and sped off in last position. The three of you watched anxiously as she began to take advantage of the sharp corners and quickly catched up to the middle of the pack within a few laps. 

In the last few laps, Anthony swore he saw Lewis racing as she began to hunt down each person in front of her at a terrifying pace. 

“Come on Layla! Go baby!” you yelled as she managed to regain her starting position and then second-,

“And in first place, [your lastname]!”

“THAT’S MY BABY! OH MY GOD!” you heard Lewis yell you began jumping up and down.

Once she was able to come off the track, she immediately ran to the three of you as Anthony hugged her tightly and gave her a high-five. When she turned to the phone her eyes widened at Lewis who had the proudest smile on his face. 

“Daddy I won! It was so much fun!” 

“Well done Layla!”

“Daddy, why are you crying?” her brows knitted in confusion.

“Those are happy tears honey,” you chuckled, then looked to the marshal who signalled that it was time for the trophies. 

“Go get your trophy.”

Bonus:

Lewishamilton

liked by susfiewolff, sebastianvettel, charles_leclerc and 4000 others

So proud of my baby on her first win. I've never had so much anxiety on watching a go-karting race 😂

redbullracing: dibs -> mercedesamgf1: no you don't. -> mclaren: she's ours.

[confessedlyfannish]

DP x DC Writing Prompt #8

The day Bruce Wayne knocks on her apartment door Sam knows it's going to be a doozy.

"Mr. Wayne, I really do hope no one saw you," she says, ushering him in. "And for the record, a text ahead of time would be appreciated."

"I parked the car a few streets away," Bruce says, sticking a finger in his heel to peel his polished leather shoes off. Sam raises an eyebrow. "It's a sedan, not a Lamborghini."

"You own a sedan?"

"Taught Dick to drive in it...after he crashed the Lamborghini."

Sam snorts despite herself. The charm Bruce Wayne exhibits would usually rub her the wrong way, too reminiscent of wealthy men that feel comfortable placing a hand on the small of your back at a crowded gala, but Bruce is honest enough about his playacting that she has come to find its insincerity comforting. She's actually sought him out more than once, leading to several annoying headlines that can't seem to decide if she's aiming to date him or one of his eligible sons. None of whom are eligible by the way, as they are a) taken, b) legally dead, c) practically a minor, and d) an actual minor.

Sam's generational wealth is peanuts compared to Wayne Industries, so naturally her parents have been thrilled and rooting for option c.

"I also didn't want Danny to see I'd texted you. Or force you to lie to him."

Sam doesn't quite tense, but it's a near thing. She does slide to the other side of her kitchen island, under the context of finishing prepping her feta fried eggs, laid on a bed of smashed avocado and warm tortilla. She pulls a bottle of crunchy garlic oil out of the fridge and drizzles hot red crisps across the runny yolk. She takes a bite, chewing thoughtfully, not so much as offering him a glass of water.

"You realize, Mr. Wayne, I have no intention of lying to Danny now?"

Bruce sits at the stool on the opposite side of the island. "I understand. And if you want to ask Danny to return home before we continue, I'd understand that as well. I didn't mean to discomfit you--"

"Please do not lie to me now, Mr. Wayne," Sam says, rolling her eyes. "By your own admission you showed up at noon without warning knowing my superhero boyfriend wouldn't be present. If I am discomfited, all the more likely you get your information, right?" Golden yolk runs down her fingers, and she sacrifices it to the napkin rather than lick up her arm in front of her boss, with no small amount of resentment. The yolk is the best part.

"Get to it then," she demands.

Bruce straightens in his stool, chin raising and firming in a jawline she most often sees under a cowl. His eyes attempt to pin her in place, but Sam has stared the Master of Time in the face and demand he reschedule so she is built. different. She takes another bite of egg taco.

"I was not aiming for you to feel threatened, and moreover, I doubt you could be."

Except a smart person should always feel threatened by a threat, no matter their capability of handling one. It keeps them alive.

"Can you tell me how I'm not like all the other girls after lunch? You'll spoil my appetite."

Bruce clears his throat. "I'll get to the point--"

"Thank you."

"--Danny has been exhibiting paranormal behaviors beyond his baseline. We welcome all biologies; human, alien, and paranormal alike, but I have observed actions unlike what he had previously established as his, for lack of a better word, 'normal'

"I want to make sure he is not experiencing any unwelcome outside influence. Or, if this is merely a facet of his evolution, I'd like to know if this is something we or his family should be monitoring."

Sam has been an eco-consultant with Wayne Industries and unofficially, the Batfamily, for half a year now and this is the most she's ever heard the man speak in one sitting.

"Wow," she says. "How long have you been rehearsing that one?"

"A while." Bruce grunts, voice finally taking that final drop into Batman's gravelly rasp. "I see you're not surprised by any of this."

"No, not really," Sam says. She pours him a tall glass of lemon water from the pitcher, freshly sliced that morning, and he takes a polite sip.

"So what can you tell me?"

"Probably a lot. And Danny would probably prefer that I do, knowing him, the big baby," Sam sighs. "Listen Mr. Wayne, I can appreciate that you came here from a place of caution rather than intrusion. And if Danny was undergoing something negative or from an 'unwelcome outside influence' that would be the right call, and I, albeit begrudgingly, encourage you to do so in the future."

"But he's not."

"He's not," Sam confirms. "And in fact, I think he could really use someone to talk to about it. Outside of his family."

"I see..." Bruce says, shifting.

"If you want to tag team this one with one of the higher EQ players, such as Superman, I give you permission." Sam does not think she's imagining that slight sag of relief.

"Thank you," Bruce says, sliding off the stool. "I don't suppose you have material we could consult...?"

"Actually yes, I happen to have a pamphlet right here. 'So your ghostly body is changing, and how.'"

"You're being more sarcastic than usual."

"You interrupted my lunch, Mr. Wayne."

[dilf-din]

Two Favors — a Joel Miller story

Rating: G

Warnings: none, unless you need a warning for girl dad Joel!

WC: 1250

For @goodwithcheese and @jolapeno coffee house challenge prompt: farmer’s market

Fridays were hectic enough without fighting your way to the farmer’s market before it closed. Your best friend called at lunch to remind you of your dinner and pumpkin carving plans, which had slipped your mind in the middle of your quarterly fight with the shipping department to fill out their dang PO’s correctly. During your weeklong task of flagging down half a dozen different employees who didn’t care half as much as you did what parts belonged to what project, you completely forgot about your annual fall soup party.

The sun was already fading in the sky by the time you pulled into the parking lot. Loose gravel crunched under your boots and the wind was blowing the stray strands of your hair, getting them stuck in what was left of your chapstick application on the freeway a few minutes ago.

The farmer’s market was a community hit year round, but especially in the fall. Local bakers had trays stacked high with apple cider donuts, sourdough with thick crust and intricate carvings, and mini pies bursting with every fruit you could imagine rimmed with buttery crust and thick sugar crystals.

Your mouth watered just thinking about all the goodies, or, whatever would be left at this hour at least. Dusk meant just a few more minutes before the shops that weren’t already cleaned out for the day would be heading home to their families.

With your arms piled high with squash and corn, you lucked out grabbing the last loaf of bread from your favorite stand. A final lightbulb went off when you remembered the pumpkin carving portion of the evening, and you saw one round, orange beauty waiting just near the back corner of the tent that shaded the parking lot stalls from the Texas winds.

You fished a five dollar bill out of your cardigan pocket and shuffled across the pavement to grab the last gourd, smiling at the middle aged woman who took the cash and wished you a good evening.

You pulled out your phone to shoot a message to your friend, letting her know your ETA, when you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“I’m sorry darlin’, it looks like they’re all out.”

Joel Miller, widowed neighbor, business owner, and girl dad extraordinaire. You had moved a few houses down from him in the spring when your job transferred you a thousand miles away from the cul-de-sac you grew up in.

Joel was always friendly, the kind of neighbor who would take your trash cans back up to your garage on cold days. He always smiled and nodded on the rare mornings he left late enough to see you climbing into your own car. You always pegged him as shy, but friendly.

Beside him came a small dejected voice, “But we’re supposed to carve a pumpkin toniiiiight.”

Sarah looked downcast, a grumpy frown the likes of which you had never seen before turned her lips completely upside down as she scraped the toe of her already scuffed sneaker against the ground. She had a pair of purple fairy wings strapped on over her puffy jacket, and her curls were extra voluminous from sitting on top of her thick outer layers.

Joel knelt to eye level with her, sincerity in his voice as he responded, “I know, but they’re all out baby. We’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

“It’s because you always work late,” she grumbled.

From the corner of your eye, you could tell how much that hurt him. You rounded the stack of hay bales you had been occluded behind, and hoped he could forgive you for cutting in.

“Did I hear someone was looking for a pumpkin?” you queried, your voice colored with a mischievous smile.

“Me! Me! Me!” Sarah exclaimed, reaching her hands out.

“Well, I just happen to have this extra one lying around,” you said slowly, “Do you think you could take it off my hands?”

Sarah’s frown turned into a smile of equal radiance, and she hopped in glee.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

Joel stood from his crouched position. He had watched the whole interaction with a look on his face akin to the one the grinch the day his heart grew three sizes.

“Don’t even try to talk me out it,” you warned, raising one eyebrow in mock seriousness.

“I know better’n to talk you out of anything,” he smiled shyly.

“At least let me pay ya for it?” he fished a worn leather wallet from his pocket and started thumbing through bills.

“Keep it. Better yet, get her some of that apple cake,” you pointed towards the front with your free hand, shifting your bags in your arms to adjust for the space the pumpkin freed up.

“Let me carry those to your car,” he opened his arms, desperate to compensate for your kindness somehow.

“Thank you Mr. Miller,” you smiled, as he scooped the paper bags out of your grasp.

He whistled a simple three note tune and called, “Sarah, time to go.”

She scrambled back to his side from where she had wandered to talk to one of the other vendors.

“Truck’s unlocked,” he instructed the girl as she swung the heavy door open with one hand, being careful not to drop the pumpkin tucked under her arm.

“I’ll be right back”, he called, but she was too busy strapping the pumpkin carefully under a seatbelt to care.

His arm brushed against yours as you crossed the small parking lot to your sensible sedan. You popped open the trunk, and Joel carefully nestled the bags into the back, next to a box of clothes you had been meaning to drop off at the thrift store.

“So chivalrous,” you teased, as he closed the truck for you.

“I really appreciate you being kind to her.”

“It’s just a pumpkin,” you shrugged it off.

“She had a really bad week, so it’s more’n just a pumpkin. Just, thank you,” he said sincerely, with a smile that allowed you a peek into the weary eyes of a single dad trying his best.

You reached out and squeezed his bicep through his jacket, “I was happy to do it, really. I’m making soup tonight. Can I bring you a bowl tomorrow?”

“Then I’ll owe you twice,” he countered, leaning against the side of your car casually, his hands shoved deep in his jean pockets. You suddenly became aware of how close you two were standing.

A chill ran down your spine, and you hoped you could play it off as the wind kicking up.

“I like coffee. And dinner,” you toyed the line, “And my gutters could use cleaning,” you threw in for good measure.

“How about I bring you one of those pumpkin lattes and clean your gutters on Sunday?”

“Where I’m from, that’s a marriage proposal, Mr. Miller,” you said in mock surprise.

He laughed loudly and shook his head, “You’re getting ahead of yourself. I haven’t even had your soup yet.”

“Oh, everyone who tries my soup wants to marry me. Consider your battleship sunk.”

He laughed again and opened your door for you and stepped aside so you could climb into the driver’s seat.

“Guess I gotta go ring shopping,” he leaned in with a low voice and a wink before closing your door and shooting up a hand in a wave.

You waved back, but inside you were dying to tell your friend that you had a date with hot dad neighbor. Hopefully that would make up for the fact that you were now turning up pumpkin-less.

[kel-lance]

The New Kid? 🙄😒 (Yandere!?Yuta x Reader)

Warnings: Wrote this months ago and don’t want to reread or fix it up but I feel there should be some warnings though I wouldn’t really know what they’d be other than lying?

- you want to hurt him, ever since you met him, ever since rika hurt your friends to defend this pos who just happens to be gojo sensei’s family. You realize you’re obsessed with him after the 2nd month of not being able to drop it.

- with panda and toge teasing you in front of yuta bc we all know on your crush on maki but she think’s you’re all joking and to stop making fun of her.

- When the truth drops you try to leave immediately to not get everyone else involved with rika but she grabbed your hair and pulled you up, she’s thinking of what she’ll do to you

- Yuta tells her to stop which surprises you all

- He takes off his ring and tells them to watch Rika while you two talk

- You try to leave again but this time he actually has a grip on you

- You’re scared, does that mean all this time he was holding back and just teasing you? you felt humiliated, you hated him so much you start crying into his chest

- He holds you nicely and you realize he does actually care, no one would hold someone like that and say those things but you tell him outright you don’t like him near maki and you hated the fact you keep toying with Rika because a girls love is precious and how could he have toyed with you this whole time?

- he said it was the only time you’d give him more attention so he was okay with it. he’s around maki bc he’s never around girls in general because of rika but bc maki’s also your bsf he wanted to know about you. He kept saying things that made the pieces fit together but you just couldn’t trust him still. You don’t want to go on with him as your classmate, you start to think of how you’ll be moving which freaks yuta out. where which who? why?

- You shove him off of you, for ruining what you tried so hard to make for yourself, and he just comes in. Maki felt the same but they bonded, met while i was on a lengthy mission. I was so pissed Gojo didn’t tell me until after, that ass.

- You try to move for the door but he takes a step out blocking your path. You look at the window and he grabbed your hand again, telling you to stop yelling at you to stop until you finally did, and you broke down again just yelling i hate you at him until you just start to wail into him.

- You cry and cry and cry until youre so tired you apologize. You don’t know what time it is but he’s still holding you. “Why do you want to speak to me about that so bad isn’t this enough u sick fuck?”

- He holds you tither and smiles his usually bright smile and says “Because you see me for who I really am. Rika, Maki, Toge, Panda, even Sensei all see me as weak, nice, a regular person. But you were on guard the moment you saw me, not like the rest of them because of Rika’s CE, but because of my own mind. You know exactly what i’m doing, what i;m thinking. Its like we’re one.”

- What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck you wish for once you weren’t right. He’s a guy, he’s a guy and he’s the same as all of them you had to go. Your crush for him was confused, your excitement, arousal, mixed with how scared you were paralyzed you as you could only stare into his eyes that darkened. He kisses you.

- “Do You want to keep up this act? Being mean to me in public. Then I’ll be as equally mean back when we’re alone?” He locked eyes with you, both showing each other faces you’ve never seen before. Your strong, rude personality was shaken by his secretly abusive side. One hand on the small of your back, pulling you in closer to him as he didn’t wait for an answer, he kept leading the kiss, drawing out each one, creating an itch.

- There was something itching on the inside, this kiss made you feel everything but still empty, you were a mess by the end and could barely think straight as you let his hands lightly grip and explore your body. This was so confusing you were wishing it were over so you could talk to him, the him you’ve all seen, not the one you made up in your head, that turned out to be real.

[ducknewtonscoolhat]

On this day I present

Every single time Duck Newton is horrible at lying !

Episode 7

Duck: Yeah, it’s a nickname. Listen, y’all got a van handy, why don’t you hop in and get on trucking. Don’t forget to— don’t worry ‘bout your clothes. We’ll drive them up seperate.

Swimmer: Why can’t we take our clothes?

Duck: [freezing up] You need to— you need— uh. Here, I’ll get them. Y’all start loading in the van and I’ll bring your clothes out to ya’s. Just another one of the many services we offer from the Forestry Service.

Episode 10

Pigeon: Well, I know how to do it, I just wanna know why.

Duck: Perfect. Perfect. Why? It's for firefighter training? Yeah, it's for firefighter training. It's been a little while since I last told someone that, so I had some time to forget it. But it's for firefighting training, cuz we can't get enough water pressure to fight the fires, forest fires.

Pigeon: Out in Monongahela?

Duck: Yeeeeeeep.

Pigeon: Duck, that's on the opposite side of town. I can find other places that I can get you some more water pressure instead of pumping it out of the water park almost a mile away.

Duck: Yeah, but the water park is definitely gonna be closed. If you can tell me somewhere where you can guarantee that they're not gonna need that amount of water that's using that amount, I'd love to hear about it. Cus, off the top of my head, I can't improvise anything.

Pigeon: There's a reservoir right next to Monongahela.

Duck: The reservoir is a source of water but it's not gonna give other— fuck, listen Pigeon, here's the thing. I... love... to… practice fishing. But... the running water... frightens me, it's called hydrophobia. And I would love to practice my cast in a real water environment where I can get in a large body where I can guarantee that running water won't be a factor. And I would just love to practice my cast in a guaranteed still body. But here's the other thing, sometimes if you do it in a lake, that's what you're thinking, a fish will bite it and normally that's ideal, but I'm just trying to practice casting. It's like, when you don't want to catch, that's when they're biting, y’know what I mean? So I need a still body of water that I can guarantee won't move to practice my fishing casting.

Episode 13

Duck: I should’ve put some time into it, honestly, but I uh… I was real busy with family over the holidays, so I didn’t make much—

Mama: You literally just said you didn’t have any family in town over the holidays.

Duck: God dammit. Dammit!

Mama: I mean, it’s fine if you couldn’t dig anything up, but you don’t gotta lie to old Mama, you know?

Duck: Dammit! Dammit, Duck!

Mama: You don’t have to beat yourself up about it, Duck, I mean po—

Duck: Fuck!

Episode 14

EMT: Do you know what happened to him?

Duck: Oh boy…um…do you want the truth or a more convincing lie? Um, nah so, okay, right… so the Pizza Hut sign started to fall, ‘cause of the weather, and he ran up there on… a fire escape… and tried to push it? …With a bat? Damn it. Nah, he just pushed it, and it fell, but then he fell ‘cause he got shocked. I bet… mmm…I didn’t see. I was in-Ah, shit! Alright, hey fol-hey guys, rewind. I-hey guys, rewind a second. Ah fuck! I was inside, I didn’t see. Anything! I don’t know… this man. I do know this man. His name-Fuck!  Alright, I Ned, hi, here's-hmmm. Alright, so this man’s name is Ned, and he’s a friend of mine, and I don’t know what the hell happened to him, but you know this guy. He’s always getting into something. I don’t know, I was in the building, I almost got killed by a Pizza Hut sign. I might be in shock!

Episode 18

Duck: Honestly… uh if I gotta tell you the truth, Juno, I’m— I was trying to get into character. I’ve been—

Juno: You’re going undercover with these teens?

Duck: —I’m going undercover. I got a undercover teenage identity. It’s— it’s Frick Richums and when I assume the identity of Frick Richums, I’m trying to get undercover, with the Hornets [hisses] so I can find their illegal grow thing. [grunts]

Juno: You are a truly miserable liar, Duck Newton.

Duck: Goddamnit! I put on such a good— damnit!

Juno: Hey, when you’re finished with the… with those, those nails. Would you mind taking them back to the station? I need to sort of keep going around the perimeter see if I can find something to, you know, maybe help with your investigation to take down those— those drug kingpins, the Hornets.

Duck: Yeah, Juno, about that. I— I was kidding about that, of course. I was just having some fun. But I did… I did hear some of them talking on...... Facebook about you and how they were gonna target you. Like they need to get you out of the way. And it kinda freaked me out a little bit. Can you think of any reason anybody would wanna get you… outta the way? Or— or be targeting you? Like… for this?

Episode 21

(Deputy Dewey is asking for alibis)

Duck: Me— Me— Me too.

Deputy Dewey: You too what? You were

Duck: Yup.

Deputy Dewey: Alright…

Duck: Me too. I was— Yup, I— Yup, me too, for both. Yup, me too. Mmm…

Aubrey: Duck, are you okay? You look like you need to use the bathroom.

Duck: Nope. Yeah, I do. Yup. Uh, Burritos, alright… Bye.

Episode 22 Featuring Ned and Aubrey also being bad at lying

Morgue Technician: Can I help y'all with something?

Duck: Well, we would like to see the bodies of--

Aubrey: My brother!

Duck: My dad.

Ned: My son.

Duck: His brother. Her-- His-- His son, her brother, my dad.

Aubrey: Not related. There's two of 'em.

Ned: But you have to figure out which two.

Duck: We need to see a body for a dare. I'm sorry about all the lies from before but we need to see a body for a dare.

Aubrey: I was dared to look at the body of my brother.

Ned: And my son.

Aubrey: I was dared to look at the body of his son. Who is also my brother. Because he is my father.

Episode 32

Duck: Um… yup. It‘s… Harpo. Uh, all… [imitating crackling noise] Y‘all hearing this? [imitating crackling] The… radio break up. Radio break up. Mrrr.

[amarayys]

EPISODE 13 CHP 2 DRDT SPOILERS.

so. WHAT THE FUCK. Levi has basically no empathy confirmed. He wants to be liked but he doesn't understand what caring about others is like. Ace tells levi to die. Lmao. Also he's so suspicious +He mentions the only person who he ever trusted. WHO NOW??? Eden and Arei doomed yuri. We get Arei and David flashback. Arei's cg looks like sora from sdra2s final cg btw thats just a random thought i had. Arei you can't do this to me. She really said "I'm a piece of shit but so is David so let's fix eachother" AUHSVGDHBJFKL Okay. EDEN. WHAT THE FUCK. EDEN. NOBODY SAW THIS COMING. I WAS SO CONVINCED IT WAS TERUKO BUT IG NOT??? Eden took Xander's eye out. So. Eden's probably a traitor, though it's probably not voluntary - we see her crying as she holds the bloody fork. I'm sorry, but with this, I think Eden culprit and Levi accomplice theory is over. I just don't think it works. Also how in the fuck does Arei know about that. my girl eden getting character development real david lying cause he thinks hes tough shit teruko DEFENDING LEVI??? YALL???? SHES PROJECTING HOW SHE FELT IN CHP 1 ONTO LEVI AND DEFENDING HIM I HATE HER /pos DAVID SNEEZING SPRITE LMAO. okay so all secrets are revealed. Teruko is either lying or mistaken about her secret, cause the look David gives her after it CANNOT be innocent. this does tell us something though - the family one applies to teruko, if shes not lying on purpose. but...what??? Who does family refer to? It cant be her parents, she never knew them. And she barely remembers her brother. Maybe it's the others at the orphanage, or her friends? Also, she feels survivors guilt apparently and wished she died with whoever family is. Somebody give my girl Teruko a break. EVERYONE SMOKES TERUKO FOR NOT KNOWING WTF THE SPINNY THING IS. Fandom cheers as Teruko finally stops getting interrupted and explains the murder method. WHIT AS A DOG HAD ME CACKLING I DID NOT SEE THAT COMING. We see that Teruko's drawing isn't much better than her handwriting (which we get more samples of btw!!!!!!!) Nico's gonna have to explain the murder... maybe the theory that Nico was framed by / helped someone is true, but idk. Teruko's interrogating the shit out of them. So. Culprit? I think realistically, the best options for the culprit are Ace, Rose, and Whit. Maybe Hu, Veronika or Nico if you squint REALLY hard but I doubt it. I think Ace is SUPER suspicious, half because vibes and half because david calling his ass out here

Rose definetly has potential to be the culprit, but idk. im tired leave me alone. WHIT. EVERY SINGLE FUCKING THING YOUVE SAID THIS TRIAL IS SO SUSPICIOUS. YOUVE BEEN THROWING BLAME ONTO LEVI CONSTANTLY. U KNOW ABOUT HANGING SPECIFICS FOR SOME REASON. UR SO SUSPICIOUS UR NOT SUSPICOUS ok thats it unrelated to this post, i made a doc of my live reactions to stuff and here are some things i wrote that i thought were funny

I am tired but this episode was SO good. I'll probably make a more in dept theory/post on it tmr lmao its 1:36 am.

[fbfh]

more dad!leo x pregnant!reader parent hcs

wc: 1k

genre: domestic fluff, parents/family/pregnant au

pairing: dad!leo x pregnant!parent!reader (reader is pregnant, otherwise gn)

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, domestic fluff, your baby is adorable, Leo is an amazing dad, mentions of being pregnant, reader and your baby are both called clingy once but it's completly /pos

a/n: begging Leo valdez to impregnate me right tf now lol

tags: @yesv01 @magcon7280 @perseajohnson @afidiofobia @almostjollypizza @fictionalcomforts  @lizziebitch33  @girlfriendwhoseawitch @dustyinkpages @cowboylikekelsey @legramilis @youkissedareaderinthedark @mrscarolscaramoucheplease @inthehoneymoonwithconnorrk800 @cosmiq-cloud @anything-forourmoony @chasingpj @mystic-writings  @dreamerball @if-only-i-was-fictional @2manyobsessions

Brain rot brain rot brain rot

Leo loves every moment of getting to be a parent with you

You’re gonna have a whole passel of kids that are an adorable mixture of all your best parts

And because of that, he works from home a lot of the time

All the engineering projects he’s part of are managed online anyway, and he has a garage at your place where he can build stuff

So most of the time he’s there with you and your babies

But when he periodically does have to go in person for meetings or presentations or to work on bigger bulkier projects that definitely won’t fit in the garage

He always brings back snacks

And sometimes flowers

He came home one day to find you and your little baby sitting on the couch together 

She was only a few months old at this point, and was happily cuddled in your lap

You have on gel eye patches and the coziest pair of sweatpants and one of Leo’s hoodies you stole from him that’s all soft and warm and smells like him

Baby is wearing a fuzzy little onesie with strawberries on it

You’re holding an iced tea and baby’s holding a bottle while you watch some bravo reality show

You gasp at something on the show and take a sip of your drink, shaking your head

Then your baby does the exact same thing, gasping and taking a sip of her bottle

Leo stifles a giddy laugh

It’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen in his entire life

He watches you for a moment, and every time you make commentary and yell at the screen, your baby will babble right along with you

He pulls out his phone to get a video of  the two of you being all cute like this before swooping in to hug both of you

He presses kisses to your cheek then to baby’s and you both giggle

God he just loves you both so much 

You’re so fucking cute every single time that you’ve been pregnant

But you’re extra extra cute during your second pregnancy

Because now you have your precious little toddler following you around everywhere you go 

AND an adorable little baby bump poking out behind your shirts and sweaters 

Leo’s heart explodes each time she hugs your belly and stretches up to press a kiss to your bump

Or when you’re lying down and she talks to your bump, telling her new little sibling what’s going on in the episode of peppa pig you’re watching together

She’s been super involved with helping you and Leo get the nursery set up too

She recently learned that trees make air so she’s very adamant that you should put lots of trees in the nursery so baby has lots of fresh air

You pass by the nursery while Leo’s working on it with your daughter in there and hear them talking about it

“That’s a good idea, mijita. How would we get all those trees in here?”

“We- we could- we… we would dig up the floor, and- and put in dirt.” 

“Oh, I see.” Leo agrees

“We put in soil. So the trees can grow.” She says it so matter of factly that it makes you chuckle

You decide against a dirt floor and live trees, but you find lots of lush potted plants to put in instead

You even put some hanging plants in your toddlers room too

Leo installs some screws in the ceiling and hangs some boston ferns and african violets in her room

When she goes into her room to see the surprise you set up she yells out excitedly

“There’s air in here now!” 

She is so fucking smart

And so fucking weird

For a while her favorite toy

The only thing she would cuddle with or play with

Was a wonky cat toy that says “neither use nor ornament” 

The more scunkly something is the more she loves it

Her favorite game for a while was cushion court, where she would take every pillow and cushion off all the chairs and couches in the living room and reenact court cases from tv and movies

And then after a very long day of settling legal disputes between pillows, you sit down to have some juice and coffee together

After chugging half a bottle of apple juice she lets out a huge sigh 

“Law is hard…” 

Law is hard is going to be a phrase thrown around your house a lot after that 

Leo loves how clingy you get when you’re pregnant too

And of course 

Everything you do, your toddler follows

So while you’re pregnant with your second child, there are countless nights where Leo is sandwiched between you and your daughter while you all watch tv and stuff together 

Each of you is cuddled into his side

And if he tries to get up to get you guys snacks or drinks you’ll both start pouting 

And immediately cling onto him again as soon as he gets back

If he’s gone for too long you’ll both start pouting

And holy shit it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever experienced

The love of his life and your adorable mini me that you made together both needing him this much??

Wanting to be close to him and spend time with him???

Loving to spend time with him and get his attention???

He’s never felt more needed

Or more cherished and loved and valued

Happy

You two just make him so happy

And he’s so so happy to make you guys happy too

You’re living a dream come true together

And neither of you can get enough of it

[bunniekittiee]

my sweet angel- johnny slaughter x reader

Based off of Sunday Morning by Ethel Cain. You worshipping Johnny. Reader is so far gone. Johnny is a POS but what can you expect from him? Do not feel bad for him.

ᴛᴡ: sᴛᴏᴄᴋʜᴏʟᴍ sʏɴᴅʀᴏᴍᴇ, ʀᴇʟɪɢɪᴏɴ, ɢᴏʀᴇ, ᴅᴜʙ-ᴄᴏɴ, ᴀʙᴜsᴇ, ɴᴏɴ-ᴄᴏɴ ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴ ᴇxᴛʀᴇᴍᴇ ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟ, ᴅᴇɢʀᴀᴅᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

18+ MDNI

Every day, every night, almost every hour if he could, he was inside of you. Breeding you, corrupting you, defiling you. Like an innocent doe and a starving wolf. Licking his chops and drooling with desire. He sank his teeth into you and claimed you as his own. No one else could have you, and he made sure of this. He scared off any of his family that would try to talk to you. You were alone, all you needed was him.

You did not have the freedom you wished you had. You were chained up in his room with an old, uncomfortable mattress and very little sunlight. A wolf kept his prey hidden from onlookers. He would leave for long hours without telling you when he would ever come back. He did not give you the respect of that, he left you wondering when he would return. When he left, you hated him and you felt it coil in your stomach. Your heart would pound with jealousy, your ears would ring, you had trouble breathing. You knew how easy it was for him to find another woman to please him if you could not. You needed him, but he did not need you. You relied on him so much, he was your captor and you disgustingly loved him. That’s what made it hurt so much. But that sickly, loving feeling spread across your chest when he entered the room with your lunch or when he was taking a break to fuck you. At least he made an effort to pay attention to you.

“Been busy in the yard.” He said as he set down your plate on the floor. “I have ta’ fix ta’ sprinkler system. It’s been a bitch.”

You nodded your head in recognition, crawling towards him. He glanced at you, tilting his head slightly. “Did someone miss me?”

When you hummed in agreement, he smirked. “Show me how much ya’ missed me, sweet pea.”

As if your hands had a mind of their own, they immediately went to his belt, fumbling with the buckle. He let you figure it out yourself. He never made a move to help you. You wanted to do it, you do it. Why should he help a miserable bitch like you?

“Best hurry it up.” He hissed as he wrenched his hands on your scalp. “Don’t keep me waitin’.”

Shoving your mouth onto him, he tightened his grip on your hair and began to face fuck you. Tears spilled from your pretty, doe-like eyes as he abused your mouth. He looked down at you, a wide, evil smile ghosting his lips. Corrupting God’s innocent.

The combination of your tears, gags, and eyes sent him over the edge, spilling his mess inside of your mouth without warning. It felt toxic, blood-hot and it coated your entire mouth. He made sure your mouth was full of his creations before you swallowed. The uncomfortable sensation between your legs made you squeeze your thighs together, but he disregarded it. Buttoning his pants up and buckling his belt, he left without another word from him. Left you with a sopping wet face and an empty pit in your stomach. You ignored the food he gave you and laid down on the mattress. Drifting off, you wondered how life would be if Johnny loved you too.

Your dreams were very empty. There wasn’t much to dream about when you were stuck in a room that did not give you much to be entertained by. Johnny was your lifeline, but you never saw much of him to begin with. He did not need you, he only used you for his own pleasure. But it would be soon before he disposed of you. He would move on, find the next best thing to satisfy him once you were dried up and worthless. The wolf had much more prey to attend to, he could not stick to just one. He said you were a special girl, his only girl, but you knew he was lying straight out out of his teeth.

Worshipping Johnny came with its downfalls. He loved the way you came and took care of his every sexual need. All of his desires. You were so willing to make him feel good. You never put your pleasure first. But he never felt the same way back. He never made the effort back for you. But why should he?

He was your God. You worshipped him. Why would he do the same for you? You would lick the blood off the heel of his boot if it meant that he would love you and give you attention in his own insane way. You thought that he liked the attention he got. Sometimes you could see it in his face that he enjoyed every minute of it.

You were risen out of your sleep by the creak of the door and light coming into the room. Squinting your eyes, you tried to make out who the figure was despite how unadjusted your eyes were. When was the last time you saw the light? You knew somewhat what time of day it was when Johnny would wake up and leave, come back for a few breaks, and then saunter back for bed.

“Hey sweet thang,” he said as you looked at him sleepily. “How’s my pretty girl been?”

Your heart swelled as he said this and you mumbled back an “okay” as you blinked a few times. It was taking a while to adjust.

“I know I haven’t been ’round a whole lot. Must get real lonely up here.” He said with a devious smile. It was untrustworthy. “I thought I’d spend a bit of time with ya’. Got ya’ a friend too.”

Your eyes widened as he pulled another girl into view. Her mouth was gagged, eyes wide with fear as she frantically looked at you. Her arms and legs were bound and she was on the floor.

Your blood ran hot in your whole body and your heart was pounding in your ears. That white, searing hot jealousy coursed through your entire body. Johnny was supposed to be only yours, just like you were all his. Why did he need another woman? What were they doing that you weren’t? You gave into all of his needs. What more could he have wanted?

“I thought ya’ could use another person around to keep ya’ company. I get ta’ benefit of enjoyin’ you both.” He said as he pulled up a stool and sat down on it, legs wide open as he held his knife. “But it’s like introducin’ a baby animal to an adult one, ya’ gotta see if they are compatible.”

The girl’s eyes flooded with tears as she realized her situation was much worse than she thought. It was either be killed by him or be killed by you. It made her angry. It made her want to scream at both of you. You were just as guilty as him for not doing anything. Johnny looked at her in wonder and reached his hand forward to take the gag off of her mouth.

“Fuck you!” she yelled out as Johnny laughed at her misery.

“That a way to talk to me?” He said as he slammed her head into the ground. “Ya’ best treat me with respect, your life is in my hands, baby doll.”

The use of pet names he only used on you made you sick. Extremely nauseated. You wanted to hurt Johnny and her. Mainly her for stumbling upon the forttress and causing Johnny to take a liking to her. You were so fucked in the head, maybe fucked so stupid, that you blamed her for everything. Johnny was your God, he could do no wrong. It was her fault.

Tears stinging your eyes, you looked away from the scene of Johnny whispering sweet nothings in her ear, the same things he told you. “Be a good girl and maybe I won’t bite as hard.”

Jealousy radiated off of you and you felt yourself become dizzy from the amount of blood that pulsed through your body. You wanted to kill her for taking your Johnny away.

“Help!” She screamed as she tried to claw away from Johnny, but he grabbed her and held her down, sitting on her back instead of the stool.

“That ain’t a way to thank me, sweetheart. Ya’ could have been dinner. Fuckin’ thank me for my generosity.” He said as he pulled onto her scalp. He was getting angry.

“W-why her?” You asked out loud, eyeing both of them.

He snapped his head up in your direction. “Thought it would be quite fun havin’ the both of ya’ to enjoy.”

Your heart sank and you felt yourself breathing hard. Why did he have to bring her? In your twisted way, you wanted him all for yourself. You wanted to enjoy every part of Johnny, inviting him inside of you and letting him live inside of you like a parasite. He was your life now, but you were not his. A mere toy.

As more tears tapped onto the rotten floor, Johnny reached his hand out to your face. “Awe, what’s ta’ matter baby doll? Ya’ don’t like sharin’?”

Throat practically closed up, you could barely speak. You continued to cry, your weeping clashing with the victim’s wails. It drove the Slaughter boy crazy. He thoroughly enjoyed it when his victims cried, whether it was out of fear, sexual violence, or sadness. It flipped a switch inside of him.

“All this damn cryin’ is makin’ me frustrated.” he said roughly. “How about I put ya’ to the test? See if ya’ worthy of replacin’ her.” He winked at you as these words slipped past his lips and it made your stomach tighten more. You felt like you were going to get sick.

He flipped the girl over and began to rip her pants off, making your jealously turn you into a hazy, almost blacked out mess. You wanted to scream at both them, you wanted to kill her. You wanted to kill Johnny for doing this to you. For playing with your feelings, for being so cruel to you. You did everything right.

Your vision was blurry as he cut her panties off with his knife. He was unbuckling his belt with his other hand and the victim screamed. She screeched like an animal caught in a trap, but it was not enough to deter Johnny.

“Now now, just sit still.” He said as he placed a hand on her lower stomach, sinking into her forcefully. The screams made your head spin, you felt like passing out. He did this on purpose, he wanted to test you. That’s all it was.

He looked at you, grinning from ear-to-ear. “Ya’ want to take the knife? I see ya’ considerin’ it, doll face. Come on, take it!”

He held his hand out to you with his knife splayed out. With trembling hands, you took it and gripped it. This knife killed many, killed your friends, killed those before your friends, and it would continue its legacy.

“I think this pussy might be better.” he said, a bit out of breath. “Not as used and abused like yours.” If his grin could get wider, it sure did. His face was obscured by shadows, but you could still make out his features. Those eyes.

Envy ate away at your bones as the woman bawled. Moving closer, you tightened your grip on the knife as she stared at you with panic-stricken eyes. The weapon reflected back in her blue irises.

“I think she would be a great replacement.” Johnny bellowed out. “Maybe ya’ should learn ta’ share, Y/N.”

Plunging the knife into her chest, you clenched your jaw and felt your vision go black. You were not in control anymore. This animalistic fury have possessed your body. Johnny watched in amazement as you continued to stab her in the chest, grunting and shrieking as you did so. You and Bubba had something in common. Johnny had stopped thrusting and took himself out of her, pulled up his pants and moved back as he watched the disarray unfolded right in front of him.

You were doused in blood. The smell was hanging in the air and stained the floor. Her chest looked like ground beef, her heart ground up in pieces with the amount of times you stabbed her. Her lifeless eyes stared at the ceiling, no signs of living in her still, mutilated body. You were on a rampage, stabbing into her stomach and screeching out incoherent sentences. Johnny did nothing but watch. Her intestines peeked out of her bloodied skin and you threw the knife to the side.

Hyperventilating, you started to come back to your senses after coming down from your blacked-out anger. You stared blankly at your hands and legs that were drenched in the gore of the woman you never even knew the name of.

Cackling, Johnny leaned forward. “I didn’t think ya’ had it in ya’! Look at that! You made a mess, girl!”

It didn’t hit you right away. You killed another person. Another woman for taking Johnny, but he was the one who had taken her. In your jealousy fit, you did not see that she was not a threat, he was. He caused this. But you were just as bad as the group of cannibals. You killed another person.

“N-no…” you stuttered out. “I’m not a murderer.”

He laughed like it was the funniest thing you had said in your whole life. “Ain’t a murderer? Ya’ just goin’ to disregard ta’ fact that ya’ killed another person out of jealousy? Honey, ya’ just as bad as one of us! Ya’ ain’t all that innocent. I knew ya’ would crack soon.”

“No!” you retaliated. “No!” That was all you could muster out. You could barely put any sentences together.

“Shut ya’ mouth ya’ stupid slut!” Johnny said as he smacked you in the face. ��Ought ta’ put a lid on it before ya’ end up like this bitch.”

You cried. You wanted to hurt him.

“Ya’ know how I feel about ya’ cryin’. It gets me goin’, and I never got ta’ finish since ya’ interrupted me and this broad.” He motioned towards the dead girl. “Since ya’ don’t like me fuckin’ other girls other than ya’, selfish bitch.”

Lashing out, you lunged at Johnny. He was caught off guard by your outburst and was a bit delayed in his reaction as you clawed at his face. You were singing your sorrowful lament as you hurled what ever physical strength you had left in your body. He grappled your throat, flipping you over onto your back. His eyes were black with anger, something you had not experienced before. This was different. This was not Johnny.

You choked on your saliva as he gripped your throat. “Ya’ are quite a fucking headache. A fuckin’ miserable, annoying, cunt.”

He raised his hand at you once again, and reigned hell fire onto you. Between his slaps and punches into your body and the pressure on your throat, you felt yourself slip in and out of consciousness.

“Oh no ya’ don’t. Ya’ ain’t gettin’ off easy, girl.” He said as he seized you by your hair and dragged you across the floorboards. Coughing, you tried to control your breathing but it was uneven. Your lungs were grateful for the air it could now take in, however you were faced with death itself. Shoving you into the face of the woman you killed, Johnny held your head in his tight clasp. “Fuckin’ look at her! Look at the mess ya’ made. Ya’ killed her.”

“N-no I didn’t.” you wheezed out. “It wasn’t me!”

“Ya’ just like the rest of us, Y/N. Don’t act like God’s perfect angel, ya’ are a corrupted devil.”

Sobbing, he pushed your face closer to hers. “Take it all in. Take it!” He was enjoying every moment of this. It was payback for the outburst you had, but he was not done with his punishment. Nowhere near it. “Ya’ are no different from me, girl.”

Her body still had some warmth, but it was slowly fading. Soon she would be stiff and cold, a sorry sight. She had the same fate as your friends, at the hands of you. For a man who could not even say he loved you back. How pathetic.

Your head was throbbing and you felt like you were going to pass out. This was exhausting. Your nose was bleeding, your ribs ached from Johnny’s fists, and you felt sore.

Releasing your fiery scalp, he let you fall onto the floor. “Learn ya’ place. Ya’ will never overpower me. Remember that.” He spat at you as you moved your hand to a puddle of the woman’s blood, wetting your finger tips as you smeared it onto your lips with a whimper. He watched you in curiosity, not exactly sure what you were planning on doing. Crawling towards him, you grabbed onto his left boot, gripping it like a lifeline. Shakily, you pressed gentle kisses onto his boot. You could feel the dirt, blood, and clumps of an unknown substance on your lips but you ignored it. You moved onto the other boot and left blood-stained kisses on it. Sure, they would be washed away with other blood and grime eventually, but it was to make him happy.

“I am your fucking God, baby doll. Ya’ best remember that now.” He said with a smirk plastered on his face. That stupid smirk. The same one that lured you in from the beginning. The same one that got you into this mess. Grabbing your wrist, he pulled you to the dingy mattress. “Undress.”

There wasn’t much to take off, you were wearing a now-bloody dress that was stuck to your body from the blood drying. He undid his boots and pants once again and slipped them off as you shakily undid your dress. “Ya’ be good now, okay?”

You nodded absentmindedly as he kissed you deeply. His personality could change quickly. You never knew what kind of Johnny you would get. You wanted to despise him for all the mind games and grief he gave you. The heartache he imposed upon you for his own pleasure.

He slipped inside of you, you and the unknown woman’s substances mixing together. His thrusts were animalistic, and they showed you the pent up neediness he had built up. Your blood from your open wounds and her blood had blended together into one. You could not tell the difference.

“Ya’ know I can never replace ya’.” he grunted out. “Ya’ always gonna’ be my pretty girl.”

The praise he gave you after treating you like absolute shit always reeled you back into it. It made your heart swell, your chest feel warm, and the butterflies start again. But they had turned to moths over the course of your stay.

“Ya’ know no one can compare to ya.’ he said as he caressed your face.

The pleasure felt so good. That sickening, loving feeling made it’s place known within you with the way he was acting, doting and being sweet to you. His mood changes were like whiplash, you never knew which Johnny you would get and you never knew when the next mood would come.

“Cum on my cock. Yeah, that’s right.” he said as he drove your body into the mattress. “Go on baby doll, you’ve been doing so good.”

It felt like he unlocked a primal connection in you and you felt yourself come undone. You came hard between his thrusts and his fingers working your clit. He was finished himself, slamming into you one last time before tilting his head back in ecstasy. His eyes were blown out from the pleasure.

With a few more thrusts, he pulled out and laid next to you. Panting, he kissed your forehead. “Good, my sweet angel. Now just rest. Ya’ did so good. I’m proud of ya’ first kill.”

You could barely hear him as your eyes impulsively shut. The remnants of her face reflected back in your mind’s darkness. She was watching. It was unfair how you were left alive, yet they were killed. All because the monster had taken a liking to you. That was the only reason that separated you from the rest. You would have been dead just like them if he decided to not keep you.

It was like a slap in the face to be in love with the creature that caused so much pain. Wrecked the lives of many and taken what was not theirs to take. Yet, you loved him. You adored him. You worshipped him.

“Johnny?” you asked quietly.

Small snores were your reply back. Well, you would never get the answer you wanted. You had a feeling it was better off not knowing. You let your eyelids close and drift off to your dreamless sleep. Maybe tonight would be different. You would dream of what was never to be and the woman who laid motionless in the room with her eyes on both of you. Your guardian angel.

[angelanika]

Pro Swimmer! Sousuke x (f!) Reader

Warning: teeny-weeny Free! spoiler (bump in Sousuke’s swimming career) 

"And make sure he's back home by 8:30 the latest! Got it?"

"Yea...I- I got it," Sousuke groaned.

His eyes never met yours, feeling more and more intimidated under your intense gaze. He always found you kinda hot when you were all riled up but he knew his rights to wandering eyes were revoked. He instead opted to scan the plain walls and various apartment doors in the hallway. And occasionally down at the pointed finger you had jabbed in his chest.

You were just about to continue with your lecture when your son chirped up.

"Come on dad! If we don't go now, the lines will get too longggg," he whined, tugging at his father's shirt.

Sousuke was well aware that the lines at the amusement park were already out the gates and that he would more than likely be ushered to the front anyway, but he couldn't miss this opportunity to get the hell outta there.

"Alright Zai," Sousuke announces, "tell your mom bye and we'll go."

Without wasting another second, your 5 year old son grins up at you with his adorable smile and chubby cheeks,"Bye mommy!"

"Bye baby," you say sweetly, bending down to straighten his clothes. "Behave yourself ok? And don't eat too much junk. Remember your manners and don't go off on your own. Mommy's number is on that bracelet, if you get los-"

"Yes mommy. I got it!"

You sigh as you stand back up. "Okay...well have fun!"

"We will!" Zai yells behind him as he runs down the hall.

"I'll see you later," you call out again.

"Yea!" This time he's already turned to corner and is probably smashing at the elevator buttons.

Now its just you and Sousuke...

"Uh yh, bye Y/N. I'll be sur-"

SLAM!!

He would be lying if he said that the door shut in his face didn't hurt like a bitch. But what was he really expecting?

He just sighed and turned on his heel, hands deep in his pocket, fidgeting with the small box inside.

His mind drifted to the times when the air between you two were comfortable and loving, not tense and filled with hatred. When you would practically throw yourself on him when he came home and he would shower you in kisses. You were with him through all the ups and downs. His glory days in high school where he was among the top swimmers in his age group to his unforeseen shoulder injury which had everything around him crashing down. He became so depressed. But you stuck with him through it all. When he finally fully recovered at the end of university, he was quickly climbing the ranks once again. You, of course, were there to cheer him on. When he qualified for the Olympic games, he had recruiters and trainers from all over the world ringing his line. He got a great opportunity abroad and you eagerly pushed him to take it on. He was very reluctant about leaving you, but you quickly dismissed his worries and happily waved him goodbye, knowing that he would regret his decision later if he declined.

When he did come to visit, having some quality alone time was always on the top of your to-do list and departing from each other once again was the hardest. But for the most part, you guys made the long-distance relationship work. Everything worked...until it didn't!! :0

(sorry, I'm so dramatic)

It had been a week since he flew back out after visiting you for a few days. Sousuke had just wrapped up a small interview and he was still seated in the leather interview chair when he pulled out his phone.

BABYGIRL 💞

Please call me.

3:07pm

Sousuke slipped out his seat and through the door, leaning cooly outside against the concrete studio building ensuring that he was out of the way of the hustle and bustle of the busy pedestrians.

Bzzz Bzzz Bz-

"Hey Baby, missing me already?" He smirked.

"Hi...well yes...but that's not why i called..."

Damn did he love the sound of your voice, but what's with the worried stutter?

"What's up?"

"Please don't get upset..."

Sousuke frowned. Don't get upset? He straightened up his posture against the building, bringing to phone closer to his ear.

"What is it?"

"..."

"Y/n, what is it?"

You cringed at the absence of your usual nicknames. Your hands were clammy as you desperately tried not to drop the phone. Your heart was racing at a mile a minute and everytime you glanced at the positive tests decorated all over your bathroom counter, its sped up. You had to remind yourself that it takes two to tango and NONE of this is entirely your fault! It's not your fault....It's not your fault...

"I'm pregnant."

Sousuke froze, "y-you're what?"

"Pregnant Sousuke...pregnant," Your voice cracked as you whispered it out, clutching the phone impossibly tighter.

"How?"

Your back which was once slouched over the bathroom counter straightened up. Your face wrinkled into a frown and the tears running down your face felt hot with rising anger.

TF do u mean howw? That stupid question made you want to jump through the nearest window and the irritatingly calm way he asked such bullshit, had you foaming at the mouth.

"How Sousuke?!? You tell me!"

"But we're NOT ready for a child y/n," his voice was still low but stern, "We're still young and I'm finally at the top, there's no way i can raise a child right now.”

You quieted down, "So what are you saying?"

"I think you know y/n."

No. You had to hear him say it.

"Well I'm keeping it, so WHAT are you saying? Are you going to help me raise our child or not?!"

Sousuke sighed, "No y/n, I'm sor-"

Call ended.

* * *

After that phone call, a week had gone by without either of you hearing from the other. You were picking up around your apartment as it had started to reflect the messiness of your mind.

You decided to turn on the TV for some background noise and coincidentally it was on the celebrity entertainment channel.

"Ahh well at least i can see what a catastrophe other people's lives are ..." you murmured to yourself.

Snatching up some sticky candy wrappers from the kitchen counter, you headed to the trash partially listening to the overly enthusiastic TV hosts.

"Aaaand guess what folks?!? Next up we'll be talking about the rising athletic star SOUSUKE YAMAZAKI caught getting steamy with 3 Victoria Secret Models!!!" the man said.

"After securing his place at the Olympics games, it seems he got the surprise party of a lifetime!! And paparazzi caught ALL the sexy hot tub scenes so stay tuned!!" his co host added.

You felt sick and not just from the growing child inside you.

You wanted to look away but you couldn't help but stare at the images on your future child's father feeling and rubbing up on 3 other women in bikinis.

That son-of-a-bitch...

Right before the show faded to a commercial break, you heard, "haha wait, didn't he mention being in a relationship recen-?"

You realized that cutting people off was starting to become a bad habit of yours, but there was no way you would listen to any more of that.

"He sure does move on fast," you muttered.

You couldn't help but wonder if he had those girls or even others on the side while you two were together as well.

The way his hands would grab at ur body eagerly showed that he must've been more than touch starved when he was away, but rn,

"It's alright Y/N. It's alright," you repeated to yourself. "He's not a part of your life anymore. That's just how it is. You'll be an amazing single mom. You have supportive friends and family. You'll be fine. You didn't and still don't need him..."

Now you're crying.

You try to blame it on the pregnancy hormones but you know better.

You curl up on the sofa, not having the strength to drag yourself to your own bed, and continue to shed your tears. You've been getting used to the sensation of crying your eyes out, it has become a more frequent thing since the call and sweetie, you had many more crying sessions to come...

* * *

Five years later, here you are.

When Sousuke finally reached out after 3 years of complete radio silence, begging you to allow him into your son's life, you didn't hesitate to drop a cold-hearted "No."

Who tf does he think he is?!?

However, it was your friends and family who were the ones to urge you to reconsider, saying that it would be best for Zai. You were still reluctant but eventually gave in, only for your child's sake.

Sousuke didn't visit too often, but when he did, he was always bearing expensive gifts and a fun day out.

You hated to see your baby go off with that bag of shit but you were kinda happy for Zai. He was spoilt rotten whenever Sousuke came around to add more toys to his collection. He really enjoyed riding in his dad's luxury sports cars and visiting his over-the-top condos. However, you raised him well and he knew when it was time to go home.

You sometimes felt bad knowing that you couldn't afford all those things for Zai yourself but he never fussed about wanting to stay longer with his affluent father as he knew that his own home with you was just as rich in unconditional love. 🥰

Zai sat on a bench, swinging his tiny legs as he chowed down a corndog.

"All worn out kiddo?" Sousuke asked while taking a seat beside him.

"No! I still have to go on a few more rides so i can be named King of Fun Land!!" he exclaimed, stretching out his arms dramatically.

Sousuke chuckled as he grabbed a tissue to wipe the ketchup off his son's mouth.

"Well your mom made an appointment to get your hair cut so we have to finish up here quickly ok?"

"Ok!!" Zai chirped.

"Uhm...speaking of your mom...."

Zai was too enchanted by the tasty carnival food to notice the change in his father's behaviour and how he shifted awkwardly on the bench beside him, trying to find the right words.

"..does she ever talk about me?"

He felt like a complete loser asking such a question to a 5 year old, but he couldn't help it.

Despite his nonchalant attitude, he really does regret what he did. He wants to see his son grow and learn, he wants to be a part of his life, he wants your forgiveness and he wants to know if he even has a chance at gaining your forgiveness.

"I'm not allowed to repeat what mommy says. She says they're bad words and i shouldn't use them."

There it is. He has no chance. He knew that. But the confirmation still sliced his heart.

"Oh alright kiddo. Don't worry about it," Sousuke ruffled his son's hair and lowered his voice, "And uhh don't bother tell her that i asked."

* * *

Zai continued to have a fun day with his father. After his haircut, they fed the ducks, got icecream and before he knew it, it was time to go home. 

“Oh shit,” Sousuke cursed as he checked his watch. “Your mom is going to kll me.”

He buckled his son into his back seat and he made his way behind the wheel. He turned to his son behind him with a small smile and said, “I actually have to pick up...a friend of mine right now. Is that ok?” 

Part 2 coming soon

[bennie-jerry]

My Beef with Killmonger - An MCU Rant

I think people struggle to understand that not ALL villains are misunderstood—they’re choosing to be evil and that's it. 

Take Killmonger for example (I’m doing the MCU specifically because I haven’t read the comics—cry about it). 

Besides committing the atrocity of making those half dreads the Frank’s Red Hot for every media with black characters lately, there's aspects I don’t hear people touch on when it comes to Killmonger as a character. And if there are, I sure haven’t heard it yet---so I really hope there's some info on this man I'm missing here. But if no one's gonna call out this man’s BS, I will.

I definitely comprehend that Erik losing his dad was extremely traumatic for him to experience as a child. But Killmonger was only focused on revenge and power alone. Because of the fact that T’Chaka was dead, Erik couldn’t take it out on him and instead decided to channel his anger towards the entirety of the Wakandan royalty—even towards T’CHALLA (even though T’Challa had NOTHING to do with it). 

Even then, T’Challa was MORE than kind enough to let Erik see a Wakandan sunset BEFORE he died. 

“I’m sorry my father was a POS. Here’s a sunset, bro.” 

I get he's played by the oh-so handsome Michael B. Jordan, but let's remove the rose-colored lenses and consider something here.

On top of being a complete narcissist (who killed his GIRLFRIEND by the way), the guy also was just never EVER fit to hold power in ANY capacity to begin with. When the guy did kill (or believe he killed) T’Challa, what was the first thing he wanted to do? 

Did he try to help other poor children in the neighborhood he grew up in?

Did he make a memorial for his dead father?

Did he start a program for fatherless children (like HE was)?

Did he even TRY to do ANYTHING of value that would’ve been beneficial to others in ANY way shape or form?

Newsflash: The answer to all of that is NO.

The FIRST thing this man does as KING is start a WAR between Wakanda and the United States.

Literally his FIRST act as king is to begin an event that could very well have left so many of his people to DIE and cause mass amounts of generational trauma. Meaning there'd potentially be a bunch of children in Wakanda that ALSO won't have their fathers should they die in the war. Is that NOT a major red flag? 

The guy didn’t even DRESS like a king, he just walked around shirtless with a jacket like he was an NYC pimp. 

Even pre-kingship, he already killed LOADS of people before he got to that point. Sure, you could argue that it was in order for him to reach Wakanda or what he planned to do. But does that not raise MORE red flags about his original intent, then? 

Killmonger has a scar on his body for every person that he’s ever killed. The man’s torso is covered top to bottom in scars, meaning he has a major body count. So you’re telling me that this dude's okay with murdering innocent people just to get to a goal that was gonna lead him to kill more people ANYWAY?

Yes, I understand his trauma. Yes, I understand why he's angry at the world. Yes, I do think he's a great villain because every good story needs a good villain. But one thing I'll NOT do is act like this man's actions are justified when they're not. His conquest to create conflict highlights a SEVERE lack of genuine care for the very people he CLAIMS to wanna help.

He's a grown man who had every chance and choice to become better and he never took it because he chose to take his anger out on everyone else since the one who ACTUALLY committed sin against him had already DIED.

And when the “What If” series came out, Killmonger turned on EVERYONE he worked with, took the gauntlets for himself, and tried to reset reality.

Sure, you could say that Killmonger is a representation of black rage and on some level, I'd agree with you in terms of a story telling perspective. But storytelling dynamics don't change the fact this man is a piece of crap.

Don't EVEN try lying to me. The only reason this man has simps on Tumblr is because he's played by someone who's attractive. I bet if he was played by Steve Harvey, you'd all change your tune. 

Trauma never is/will be an excuse to do horrible stuff. Once again, trauma can make a good villain and good villains are necessary. My ONLY issue with Killmonger is that he has a railroad of fans that try to justify his actions.

It's one thing to like a horrible character. And it's another thing to say a horrible character is justified in what they do. The reason why I think it's so dangerous to do that is because it CAN (not that it always does, but CAN) translate into real life instances where people defend ACTUAL human-shaped monsters for things they do as well (ie they're traumatized and/or attractive). That's why we have hybristophilic fangirls slobbering over Wade Wilson (if you know, you know).

But at the end of the day, everyone has choices. Killmonger made his.

Even Killmonger's FATHER was saddened by what his son became while speaking to him on the ancestral plane.

N’Jobu: No tears for me? Killmonger: Everyone dies. It's just life around here. N’Jobu: Well, look at what I have done.

DAWG, WHAT MORE PROOF DO YOU NEED—