Addicted

Chapter 17

□ TW!! □

◇ mentions of depression

◇ brief appearance/lifestyle dysphoria

◇ sensuality + some bdsm content

◇ swearing

♧ Enjoy!! ♧

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Weeks fly by, and Oliver grows less and less lethargic every day. He doesn't cry a lot though, and for that I'm thankful. Crying babies piss me off to no end. His eyes change color, but only add some green to his originally blue eyes. Now they're a beautiful turquoise color that reminds me of the Caribbean.

Puddin puts his work on hold (and since he's the boss, he can do that) to spend more time with us. To be honest, I resented him at one point because I thought we could never have children or even resemble a normal family. But I've realized that we don't have to look normal to be normal. Our family isn't freakish or cult-like just because Jack and I don't look like regular Susan's or Tyler's. There are people way more creepy looking than us who have children- and those children are fine, too!

I think my depression was the worst when I thought I could never have a family like I've always dreamed of and never be normal again. But honestly, looking back, I have no regrets whatsoever. Being part of the suicide squad? No regrets. Jumping into acid to prove my love? No regrets. Choosing to be Jack's lifelong partner in crime? Definitely no regrets. I live my life how I want to.

I'm gonna have to start working out again to get rid of my leftover baby belly. Standing up to look in the mirror, I examine the small bit of fat clinging to my lower abdomen. "You have got to go," I say decisively.

"What?" Mumbles a bleary voice from the bed. "Nothin, Puddin," I say. "Good morning to you too then," he groans, stretching and yawning. I smile and walk over to kiss his forehead. "Good morning, love. Sleep well?"

He smiles (God, that smile), and nods. "Any night next to you is a good one," he says, sitting up and running his hands through his hair. "Where's Oliver?" He asks, looking around. "SHH," I whisper violently, "I just remembered that he's asleep. Quiet quiet quiet!!" I hiss.

He puts his hands up. "Woah, woah, woah, mamma bear, relax. He isn't fussing and therefore is probably still asleep."

I do relax, remembering that Oliver sleeps like a rock (just like Lucy did at his age, actually) and definitely wont wake up from a quiet conversation. "Yeah, yeah, you're right," I say. He smirks. "I know I am. Also, can we move him out of here so we can return to our usual... nighttime activities?" He says, looking at me sideways.

I flush. I have been feeling a little.. energetic the past week or so... "Yeah, let's do that," I say, face blooming redder just thinking about what I'll be getting once we do.

Puddin gets up and walks over to me, cupping my face in his hands. "I know you'll be all ready for me tonight, right princess?" He asks, his deep morning voice sending shivers down my spine. Slightly turned on, I look away. "Look at me, darling. Daddy wants to hear you say the words. Say: 'I'll be ready, Daddy'."

"I'll be ready, Daddy," I say, fidgeting with my hair. "Good," he says, tracing my lips. "I cant wait to see my pretty girl all dressed up for me. Or should I say dressed down," he says, leaning in so close I can feel his breath on my lips. I whimper a little, barely audible but just enough that he hears it and smirks. "I want it right now," I whisper, trying to contain my pitching voice.

He pulls away and boops my nose. "Aww. My poor baby's gotten so used to getting what she wants when she wants, huh? Too bad. Daddy's been lax in teaching you lessons recently. You need to be patient, love. You'll get some tonight, but only if you don't whine and if you behave yourself. Now, I don't want to hear one more word about tonight until it's time, mk?"

Breathing slightly shaky, I nod. He goes into the bathroom and starts the shower. 

"Fuck."

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