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gyupinkys · 10 months

Text

POUT SOME MORE

Choi Seuncheol x fem reader

Seungcheol is not a nice man. How could he be? To run a mafia you need to be ruthless and you are no exception to that behavior. No matter how many times he fucks you and tells you he owns you, he will never mean it. Thats until he see's you being a little to friendly with Shownu.

part 2

WC: 3.6K

WARNINGS: unprotected sex, degradation, humiliation, exhibitionism, chocking, impact play, spanking, ruined orgasms, squirting, overstimulation, possessiveness, arranged marriage, knife play if you squint, basically cheol being petty and fucking you in front his friends.

There's nothing in this world you didn’t have. You grew up spoiled out of your mind. Anything you ask for daddy would run and buy. He treasured his one and only daughter, making sure she knew how much he loved her. Despite being the leader of the largest mafia in the continent he never once ignored your needs or neglected you. Your father was always there for you and would do anything for you, you loved him endlessly. But there was one thing he couldn’t give you and that was Choi Seungcheol.

Now, you pride yourself in being a strong woman. So there's no way in hell you would ever long after a man. What do you look like being caught up, sad, and upset over a… man? Just the thought makes you shudder. You didn’t love Seungcheol, not by any means. Sure, you loved the orgasms and the way he filled you up perfectly, but you didn’t love him. He’s far from your type, he’s a womanizer whereas you love pathetic men who do anything you say. You want the treatment you received growing up to carry on into your adult life and Seungcheol is not the man to give you that. But just the thought of not having him grovel over you… beg to be in your presence irks you…

You’re the full package so why doesn’t he want you? You try not to be too caught up on this, busying yourself with your other boy toys, but it’s always eating away at you. Who the fuck does he think he is? Does he think you’re undeserving of him? He’ll fuck you, but not want to date you? Now you’re getting worked up. This is why you cut him off, it’s not worth the stress; it’s been four months without him and you’re (going crazy) fine. You take a sip of your bloody mary and sigh. Looking around you see the man himself enter the club with his stupid posse… god, you despised him. You ignore him, “don’t let men get the best of you.” you whisper to yourself.

“Why is my dumpling so worked up?”

You immediately know who it is and smile. You love this guy.

“Hi, Shownu.” you say smiling up at him. He’s so fucking fine. You haven’t seen him in a few weeks, he just returned from overseas business.

“Are you here alone?” he ask, wrapping his hands around your waist.

“No, Yuqi is around here somewhere.”

“Why is she always leaving you?”

“Maybe so a tall, handsome grandpa could come and flirt with me.”

He clutches his chest. “I’m not old,” he says pouting.

“Don’t worry, you know I love an older man, and who else do I get to call daddy?” you smirk.

He groans, clutching your waist harder. “If you keep talking like this I’m gonna drag you out of here.”

You giggle.

On the other side of the club Seungcheol is fuming. His “I don’t care about you” act is backfiring. He has no claim over you and it’s his fault. He needs to maintain his big bad mafia boss act but he so badly wants to start pouting. Jeonghan senses it and nudges him.

“Dude get it together.”

“But do you see her?” he whines. “She’s practically eye fucking him.”

“You’re literally whining! People are gonna start looking.”

“Jeonghan you don’t get it! I literally fucked her brains out and then she cut me off! And look at her she doesn’t even care.” he says as the whining increases. He’s two seconds away from actually stomping his foot.

“I don’t know how people buy this “alpha” act, you're actually just a little bitch.” Jeonghan says and rolls his eyes.

Seungcheol dramatically gasps. “Why would you say that to me?”

“Why don’t you go talk to her?”

“And say what?”

“Cheol. I can’t tell you how to live your life. What will you do when I die?”

“I’ll just die with you.” he says seriously.

Jeonghan just groans and pushes Cheol towards you.

“Keep it cool, keep it cool, keep it cool” he whispers to himself as he walks over to you.

He slides in the empty space behind you and orders a bourbon at the bar. You and Shownu turn to look at him.

“Y/N. Shownu” he nods at both of you.

“Hello, Seungcheol” you say with a small smile and Shownu just nods in return. You can sense an ego off about to happen and quickly make your exit.

“Shownu, I’ll text you.” you say and get up only for Cheol to grab your shoulder.

“And what about me?”

“What about you, Cheol?”

He doesn’t want to sound pathetic and beg.

“You suck my dick and say I’m yours and suddenly you’re acting like you don’t want to see me?” Nice one Seungcheol, way to fuck it up.

You raise your eyebrows at him and scoff. “Shownu will get a text because I don’t have to fake orgasms with him. He actually makes me cum.” you say with an innocent smile making Cheol scoff.

You pat Shownu on the shoulder and walk off.

“Nice one man, maybe if you try respecting her she’ll fuck you.”

“I don’t need advice from you.”

“You sure? 'Cause I'm the one who's gonna be deep in that pussy tonight” Shownu shrugs, walking away leaving Cheol pouting at the bar.

“Dude, that was really bad.” Joshua says sliding next to him, making Cheol glare at him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You didn’t end up texting Shownu. You heard about his arranged marriage thats being planned through the grapevine and one thing you don’t do is fuck married men. You stuck to your trusty vibrator to get you through the night. As you’re about to get out of bed you get a phone call from Yuqi. You know she’s gonna be recounting her entire experience last night in full detail. With a sigh you answer.

“Y/N. What did you do to Seungcheol last night?”

“Nothing?”

“When you left the bar he started pouting and whining to that friend of his; The American one. Look, I even caught it on camera.”

You rush to open your messages to see a video of Cheol sitting at the bar with a huge pout on his face. You can’t hear what they’re saying but his friend is just sitting there laughing. You start to laugh too, he looks so pathetic.

“I’m gonna call him. I’ll call you back.”

“Tell me what he says!”

You scroll through your contacts until you find his phone number. You never bothered to give him a contact, he’s just a quick fuck after all (no he’s not). You call him and after a few rings he answers.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Chollie.”

“Finally decided you want me?”

“I don’t know about all that. But, I think someone wants me more than they’re letting on.”

“Who?”

“I heard this guy was practically crying over the fact I turned him down. He was pouting and whining like a baby.”

“Oh, I didn’t hear anything about that.”

“Oh, I bet Cheollie.”

“Y/n. Did you just call me to try to make fun of me?”

“Me? Make fun of you? I would never. I’m just shocked that more people don’t know the “scary big bad alpha leader” is secretly a little bitch.”

“Y/N, the next time I see you, you’re really in for it.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine and you’ll leave crying.”

“We shall see, Bunny.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next time you saw him you were indeed not in for it. You attended a Gala with your father which, to you, ensured Cheol would do nothing out of line. To say he was scared of your father was an understatement. To be fair everyone is scared of your father, except you. After tagging along with your dad to meet “potential husbands” you tell him you’ve had enough and would rather be shot than get married to which he rolls his eyes.

“Dad, Have you seen Choi SeungCheol?”

“Why? Do you have a crush on him? He’s a very dedicated young man I approve.”

You roll your eyes. “More like he has a crush on me.”

“Good to know. He’s probably upstairs.”

“Thanks. Text me when you’re ready to go.”

You head upstairs trying to not look like you’re searching for him. There's no sign of him or any of his rat friends which is weird. You walk to the bar trying to be mysterious but probably just looking lost and confused.

“Y/N, You look lovely.”

You turn around to see Yuta leaning against a pillar looking as dashing as ever.

“Hi, Yuta.” you say walking up to him and giving him a genuine smile.

“Are you looking for someone?”

“Seungcheol”

“Well from the stare I feel boring into my head I can assume he’s behind me.”

You giggle, a little over exaggerated if you're honest but you just want to piss Cheol off if he’s actually behind him.You’re too nervous to look behind Yuta so you keep your eyes on him.

“He’s so dramatic.”

“Are you two dating?”

“Yuta. Look at who you're talking to. I don’t date.”

“You’re right, my bad. But why are you trying to make him jealous?”

“I’m doing no such thing.”

“You can’t fool me Y/N.” he says and pulls you into his chest.

“Might as well make your lies good.” he smirks and places a kiss on your jaw making you smile.

“Thanks.” you say as you peek over Yuta’s shoulder and see Cheol get up and walk away with Jeonghan at his side.

“My work here is done” Yuta says and winks as he walks away leaving you to your own accord on the bar.

About an hour later you receive a text from your dad telling you to meet him downstairs. To your utter shock, standing at the door is your father, Seungcheol, and Jeonghan; laughing and chatting like they’ve been friends for years. What the fuck? You rush down the stairs as they wrap up their conversation.

“Dad?”

“Oh, Y/N, let's go, I have some paperwork to draft.” he says, winking at Cheol.

Did they make a deal or something? Jeonghan is just smiling mischievously at you, making you more concerned.

“I’ll be seeing you real soon, Y/N” Cheol says with a smirk as he leaves.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Fiancé?” You feel like fainting. You feel like killing someone, anyone, you feel like killing Seungcheol.

“What do you mean we're getting married?” you say feeling your temper rise. So this is what they were talking about at the gala? A fucking arranged marriage? God, you feel like crying.

You look at your dad with tears in your eyes. “Dad?”

He sighs. “Y/N, You know I love you, but you need to settle down. And Cheol said you two have been dating for months. Am I so wrong to want to see my daughter marry the man she loves?”

“What are you talking about?” you spit enraged. “I don’t even like Cheol. He’s so fucking annoying and I don’t want to settle down! Especially with him.”

Cheol walks up to you with a smooth smile. “Baby, Don’t be like that. It really hurts when you act like you don’t want me.”

You feel like killing him. Matter of fact, you will kill him. You run over to the living room center table and take out one of the many guns stashed there. Your dad quickly grabs you, probably anticipating your actions.

“Dad I don’t want to marry him” you say as you start to cry, throwing yourself on the floor.

“Y/N. I’ve spoiled you for too long. It’s time for you to face the real world.” your dad says as he pats your shoulder. “Cheol, I’ll see you around. Take Y/N to your house, let her see her new home.”

You feel like your world is falling apart. You did wish for this, but now that you have it, it doesn't taste as sweet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You glare at Cheol from across the dining room table. He looks so fucking smug as he eats with his 12 fucking gremlins. God, You want to fucking break something. Why does he get to do this to you? He’s taking it too fucking far. You’re being forced to “meet his friends” like you give a fuck about any of them, but come to think of it, maybe you could use them to your advantage.

You turn to the man on your left who has barely spoken a word to anyone but Jeonghan this entire time. “Joshua, Right?”

“That's me,” he says with a sweet smile. You see straight through him though, he’s probably awful.

“Maybe if I met you first I wouldn’t be here. You are much cuter than Cheol.” you pout. His smile just widens and he shakes his head. “It’s a little too late unfortunately, maybe in another life.”

“I don’t see why not in this life.” you say as you run your finger across his hand resting on the table.

He looks at your hand and back at you. “Do you want him to murder me?”

“I’d rather he murder me at this point.” you sigh.

“Y/N.” Cheol growls out making you sigh more dramatically.

“Yes, Cheollie?” you say sarcastically as ever.

“Why are you flirting with Joshua?”

“I was just wondering if he could actually make me cum. I’d love to have one last orgasm before I marry you and be bound to a life of awful sex.”

The room becomes eerily silent. You doubt anyone is even breathing. Joshua is looking like he wants to murder you but you're having the time of your life.

“Come here.”

Your eyes widen at his tone. Woah. He’s not fucking around anymore. You get your ass up and walk around the table feeling all eyes on you. As you round the edge you gulp.

“Take a seat.”

You need to take a deep breath. You feel like all the air in the room is being sucked out. You sit in his lap and look in his eyes.

“Any other request, Daddy?” you say with a smirk.

Making someone behind you choke on his drink and another clear his throat.

Cheol’s hand flys to your throat and pulls your face towards him, forcing the little air in it out. “Don’t fucking play with me.” he spits into your ear.

“And what are you gonna do about it? Not make me cum?” you smile as his hand tightens. You can tell he’s embarrassed, not only are you embarrassing him but you're embarrassing him in front of his friends.

“Y/N. If I do remember correctly, the last time we fucked, you were crying and begging me to stop, clearly your the one who can’t handle some good dick. Two orgasms and you tap out?”

“I’ve always been told I’m a great actor.”

“Well let me refresh your memory.”

He pushes everything in front of him off the table and lays you flat on your back.

“Y/N, I try so hard. I try to be kind, to be sweet, to be the man you would want.” he says as he takes his steak knife and cuts through your top. “But it seems that's not the man you deserve. You deserve someone who will treat you like the fucking bitch you are, you just want someone to fuck you like a whore huh? You go around giving this pussy up to everyone, about time I make it mine.”

You try to defend yourself but his hand on your throat only tightens. “Josh, Hold her hands down for me won’t you?”

Cheol looks down at you. “Since this is a community pussy, I’m sure you won’t mind if I use some help.” he smiles down at you.

He pulls your pants off your body leaving you in just your bra and panties.

“My beautiful, Fiancé”

“Cheol Stop.” you say as you push your hips into him. You don’t even know what you want. You want to get up and stab him but you want to feel him stretch you open as his friends look. Actually you just want to piss him off.

“Stop? I don’t think I want to.”

“Joshua, take a good look. This is what you’re gonna get next.” you say smiling at Joshua.

One second you're smirking at Joshua and the next your cheek is on fire. Did this motherfucker just slap you?

“Don’t look so shocked baby. You don't remember being on your knees, begging me to slap that pretty face?”

Your cheeks heat up. God, he’s humiliating you.

“Cat got your tongue?”

He begins to harshly rub your clit over your panties, just the way you like it.. “I don’t think you want me to stop anyways. This pussy is dripping for me.”

“Are you sure it's dripping for you?”

He just chuckles. “You’re not gonna be able to fucking move tommorrow.”

He pulls your panties off and throws them to the center of the table. “A treat for one of you.” He plays with your clit some more, pinching it and rolling it making you get closer and closer to the edge.

“I would stretch you out, but I doubt I need to. I’m sure sluts like you keep themselves nice and stretched.” You don’t even know when he unzipped his pants, let alone pulled out his dick. He rubs his tip through your folds making your eyes roll back. Youre already so fucking overstimulated, all the eyes on you, his degrading words, and the fact that you haven’t fucked anyone in weeks is killing you.

“Beg.” he says looking into your eyes.

“No.”

“Suit yourself.” he says and tucks himself back into his pants. “And none of them are going to fuck you.”

Your eyes widen at this. Fuck. What do you want more? Your pride or dick? Ugh, and he already has you so close to an orgasm.

“Please.” you whisper.

“Did you say something?”

“Please.” you say a little louder.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me.”

“Louder”

“Please fuck me Cheol!”

“Louder” he smirks, making you groan.

“Please fuck me Cheol, I need it so fucking bad.” you frustratedly yell out

“There we go.” he says and he slides in bottoming out. He doesn’t give you a chance to adjust, immediately setting a beyond brutal pace.You have a feeling he wants it to hurt. It feels like he’s in your guts, you can barely breathe. Every thrust is sending you further up the table. You can’t even grip onto anything due to Joshua’s harsh grip.

“God.” you moan out.

“Don’t call for God, he can’t help you.” he grunts as he somehow fucks you harder causing the skin on your thighs to begin to sting. “Cheol, Please.”

“Please what, Baby?”

“Please let me cum.”

“Oh, Now I can make you cum? What happened to all that talk from before?”

“Cheol, I need it so bad.”

“I don’t care. Don’t cum.”

You hate this motherfucker. Tears begin to flow from your eyes from frustration and pleasure. “Cheol Please.”

“No.”

You were never one to listen anyways. You let go and cum all over him making him stop thrusting. “You’re real bold, baby.”

A harsh slap lands directly on your clit making your back arch. He hits you again and again, ruining your post orgasm bliss. “You know what? You want to cum? Then cum.” He begins thrusting again, rubbing your clit in the way he knows you like. Moments like this you wish he didn’t know your body like the back of his hand. He thrusts straight into your g-spot making you moan loudly, coming out more as a scream. “Feel good, baby?” he smirks as you begin to cry more.

“It feels so good.” you moan.

“Cum for me.”

After a few more thrust you cum turning your face and looking straight into Jeonghan’s eyes. You can’t believe he’s letting all his friends watch this. Just the thought makes you cum even harder, to the point where you start squirting over his chest, making his white button down turn clear.

“Oh look at you, baby. Squirting all over me.”

How is this man still going? You feel like you’re going to pass out and you know you’re not close to done.

“Cheol I can’t.”

“You can’t what?”

“I can’t take it anymore.” you breathe out.

He just laughs at you. “I don’t care.” he says looking you dead in the eye.

He keeps up his brutal pace making you groan. “Cheol please.”

“Shut the fuck up and take it.”

You start squirming and trying to break out of Joshua’s hold.

“Don’t run, baby. Take what I give you.”

Fuck. That was hot. You clench on him, making him groan. “You like that? You like having to sit here and take it? Not having a choice but to be my personal sex toy?”

This is why you wanted him so bad. He knows how to fuck you, he knows what to say, he knows how to treat you, break you, put you in your place.

“Cheol, I’m cumming.”

He pulls out right before you tip over. Cumming over your stomach and chest. Joshua lets go of your hands and you shoot up with wide eyes. “What the fuck?”

He pulls you in for a kiss and whispers against your lips. “Next time you want to be a brat, remember this feeling.” He winks and tucks himself into his slacks.

“I’ll see you baby, I have work to do.”

With that everyone gets up and leaves, trying to hide their hard ons and pretend they aren’t phased. When you look around for your panties you see theyre gone. You look at the guys and see your pretty pink panties sticking out of Joshua's pocket.

#seventeen smut #svt smut #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #choi seungcheol smut #scoups x reader

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kingkatsuki · 1 year

Text

— distance

Based on this post sent to me by @toutoshodoroki. You know I can’t resist Bakugou in a long distance relationship.💕

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Warnings: fluff, long distance relationships.

Word Count: 1k.

Bakugou[7.34PM] — One New Message

Your face practically glowed as you reached across the desk for your phone, snatching it greedily as you held it to your face to unlock.

It wasn’t unusual for Bakugou to be awake at this time, as you tried to do the math in your head to work out what time it was for him. His work often called for unsocial hours, but just knowing that you could now steal a few precious moments before he had to start work was enough for you. Today had been hell, as well as much of your week— so this was already the highlight of your day.

The distance was hard, but finding the time for each other seemed to be even harder.

There were no words attached to the message, only a photograph that you were quick to click. The picture was of departure boards which seemed as though he was inside a train station, no— an airport.

You[7.37PM]: Going somewhere?

Bakugou[7.38PM]: First flight out. Checking in now.

You knew Bakugou’s job was demanding, and it often meant he disappeared for long periods at a time. It was something you fought about a lot at the beginning of your relationship. You remembered the moment you’d called him a catfish, and you’d blocked him on all platforms— until you received a tweet from the Official Dynamight agency account which solidified the fact that you were in fact talking to the number two Pro.

It was something you were beginning to come to terms with, eagerly awaiting his return and appreciating the missions where he was allowed to contact you. A welcome change to have him closer to your timezone so you could fall asleep on the phone together or feel like you were actually with each other. Waiting at home for your boyfriend to finish work and take you out.

It was selfish really, that it wasn’t the fact that it could be dangerous or he could get hurt that upset you. Of course, you worried about him, really you did. But what you hated more than anything about when he travelled for missions was that it meant that it became harder to talk to him.

You[7.39PM]: How long this time?

Bakugou[7.45PM]: I’m thinking two weeks.

Your stomach lurched at the thought that you might not be able to talk to him much for the next two weeks, grimacing over the fact that your week had most certainly gotten worse.

Curling up into a ball on your couch as you continued to text him back, trying to get as much of his attention as possible before he stepped onto the flight.

You[7.46PM]: Where to this time?

Bakugou[8.05PM]: Sorry, princess. Had to get through security.

Bakugou[8.05PM]: Grabbing a quick coffee. It’s too damn early for this shit.

He’d ignored your question about where he was heading, which made you think it was going to be one of the more serious missions. The ones where he couldn’t disclose his location, and that he had to surrender his cell phone at the airport before he stepped onto the flight. Wondering if you’d have enough time to call him before he left, a quick FaceTime today would be better than nothing.

The call connected as Bakugou came into view. Holding the phone in its usual position by his waist as it gave you a view of his handsome jaw, a large coffee in his other hand and a hold-all slung over his shoulder as he made his way through the quiet airport.

“Hey, beautiful.” He grinned as he pulled the phone closer to his face to get a better look at you, “Look so pretty today.”

“No I don’t,” You whined. He was the one that looked pretty, even after what you supposed was minimal sleep.

“You callin’ me a liar now, huh?” He laughed, moving the phone as he dumped his bag from his shoulder. The change in angle gave you a view of the grey sweats and trainers he was wearing.

“I would never,” You laughed, already feeling all your stress from the day begin to leave your body.

“Good, you better not.” He chuckled.

“But you never told me you were going away, you know.” You mumbled, disappointed you had to find out this way.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry,” His chin disappeared inside the neck of his hoodie as he stared down at his phone with crimson eyes, “I only booked the ticket last night.”

“Oh,” The trip had been that late notice, “So where are you going?”

Bakugou pressed the screen as he turned the direction of the camera, pinching with his fingers as he zoomed in on the departure screen at his gate. The movement blurry, but you could make out the name of the destination.

Your city.

“Wait, what?” You held your breath, your heart was doing somersaults as you waited for his confirmation.

“Yeah,” He grinned, turning the camera back to face him, “Heard there’s a pretty girl that lives in this city. So I’m gonna go and find out for myself.”

“You’re lying.”

“There you go again callin’ me a liar, sweetheart,” Bakugou scrunched his nose, “You really trying to make me cry in front of all these people?”

“What the fuck,” You couldn’t believe it, after all this time he was finally coming to see you.

Tears began to cling to your lashes, pooling in your waterline as they threatened to spill over.

“You were saying last night that no one ever shows up or makes the effort for you when it counts, that no one takes the time, remember?” Bakugou continued.

You nodded on the other side of the phone, your throat tight from the tears that were now streaming down the apples of your cheeks.

“So I’m doin’ it, I’m making the effort.” He shrugged, his eyes softening, “Don’t cry, princess. You know I fuckin’ hate when you cry.”

“I’m sorry,” You sniffed, barely managing to get it out between sobs, “Are you really coming for two weeks?”

“Yeah I am, baby,” Bakugou smiled, “If you’ll put up with me for that long.”

“I didn’t think you’d ever be able to get time off work.” You’d both tried to meet up in the past, but your schedules could never quite make it work.

“Yeah, but I think it’s about time I stop talking about how much I care, and show you instead.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou fluff #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha fluff #mha fluff

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transmascissues · 7 months

Text

some thoughts about top surgery recovery, as of 3 days post-op:

when they say using your chest muscles sucks afterward, i never realized exactly how much was going to be be limited. coughing, sneezing, hiccuping, laughing — all of it is terrifying right now. even talking for too long starts to put that kind of stress on my chest, and my voice isn’t as strong as it usually is. it takes me forever to fully empty my bladder when i’m on the toilet because i’m totally relying on gravity to do all the work (and shitting was effectively impossible without a stool softener even though i haven’t taken the pain meds they said i would need them for)…and don’t even get me started on figuring out how to wipe (hint: back to front while sitting, using my dominant hand to push my non-dominant hand far back enough). using the computer is also harder — i was planning on playing lots of baldur’s gate after, but for the first couple days i could only really go for a few minutes before using my arms that way got too tiring. having a mastectomy pillow has been an absolute godsend when i’m using my phone because i can prop my arms up on it and not really have to use any muscles at all to hold them up.

the biggest piece of not being able to use my chest muscles right now, which i’m writing separately because it’s been such a huge thing for me, is that i cannot sit up or back by myself at fucking all. like, if i sit on the couch and lean back a bit to sit against the cushion, it hurts to pull myself back up to fully straight — and if i’m leaning back any more than that, i just can’t do it at all and i’m stuck there unless my boyfriend puts their hands behind me and pushes my dead weight back up. i totally get why some people sleep in a recliner now because i’m completely at the mercy of having someone there to help move me around once i’m at any sort of angle. sitting back is mostly the same as far as what i can do, and arguably hurts worse to attempt at all, but my ability to do it seems to be coming back faster than my ability to sit up. if you’ve never had your mobility limited to that extent before, prepare yourself: the first time you’re stuck somewhere and the person who normally helps you doesn’t answer immediately can be really fucking scary (i learned that the hard way).

the anesthesiologist warned me that i might have a sore throat after surgery from being intubated, but i was not prepared for what “sore throat” ended up meaning for me. you know that feeling of swallowing something that’s too big and you can still feel it in your throat even after it’s down? it’s like that times 20, and further down in my throat. the worst pain i’ve felt in the last three days wasn’t from the surgery itself, it was from trying to swallow pancakes when my throat was at it’s worst. today is the first day it’s even started to fade, and even now, it hurts just to swallow my own spit. i don’t know about you, but that’s not what comes to mind when someone tells me “you might have a sore throat”.

on that note, the incisions themselves have really been the least painful part in general, probably because the nerves there aren’t reconnected yet. the vast majority of my pain and discomfort at this point has been from the drains and bandages — the drain sites getting sore or just randomly starting to sting, waking up feeling suffocated by the ace bandages, etc. it’s not because anything is wrong with them — the drains weren’t placed wrong and the bandages aren’t too tight, they’re just a huge pain in the ass to deal with 24/7. i can’t express how much i’m looking forward to getting the drains out and being able to take binder breaks because it’ll make things so much more comfortable.

my incisions are connected in the middle because my chest tissue was all really close together, and the part where the incisions connect is really the only part where i’ve felt any pain so far. i suspect it’s because the swelling on either side is making that part of the incision push together and press against itself, and then the binder pushes on it even more. it’s not a severe pain at all, but i do sometimes lift the center of the bandage off my chest for a second to give that spot a bit of a break.

i’ve already started getting some of the weird sensations associated with nerves reconnecting, and it definitely is wild. so far, it’s been mostly tingly feelings, sometimes like chills and sometimes more like a limb falling asleep. (weird observation: taking a shit makes my ribs tingle? i’ve got no good explanation for that one.) i’ve gotten a zap on one side and some buzzing feelings too. it’s pretty mild right now, probably because it’s so early on.

i’ve also gotten what i would describe as phantom boob feelings, especially on the first night. specifically, when i close my eyes, sometimes i’ll feel like someone is touching or jiggling the boobs i don’t have anymore. definitely not a super pleasant experience, but i think being out of it from the anesthesia still really helped me not be too upset by the worst of it. i’ve gotten a couple little phantom nipple touches too, but those were just split second blips of sensation that were far less bothersome in comparison.

i never realized that the classic post-op hunch is caused more by the binder than by the body itself, but we had to take all of my bandages off the night after my surgery to send pictures of something to my surgeon, and i was shocked by how much straighter i could sit with everything off. i was definitely still hunched, but it was more like a natural slouch and less like i looked like i was using an invisible walker. with the binder on, it’s super uncomfortable for me to try to stand straight at all because it feels like the ace bandage doesn’t come with my body and just drags everything down, and i’m always holding my mastectomy pillow or my hands to my chest while i walk around to stop it from feeling like gravity is going make the bandage tear my chest open.

every so often, when things are getting especially painful or uncomfortable or just generally difficult, i do start to wonder if i made the right choice. not because i regret getting rid of those things — not by a long shot — but because it’s a fucking hard process to go through. this is probably the hardest thing for me to admit, but the rational part of my mind knows it’s natural to feel that way once in a while. all of this is temporary and the relief from dysphoria will be permanent, but right now? this is my entire world and it doesn’t feel particularly temporary and i do have moments of “why do i have to go through all this when other people get to just have the right body from the start? why couldn’t i just live with what i had? why can’t i just be living my normal life right now?” no matter how sure you are of your choice, no matter how proud you are of being trans, this shit is hard and it’s okay to feel that.

i’m going to put the pictures of my chest one day post-op under the cut, because i think it’s pretty rare to see pictures from that soon after the surgery. they’re not gorey at all — the actual incisions are totally covered by steri strips and everything around them is clean — but still, if you don’t want to see relatively fresh surgery results, don’t look under the cut.

for all the discomfort and pain and limitations and other weirdness of recovery, every time i look at these pictures it reminds me of exactly why i’m doing all of this, and i’m so glad i kept fighting for this for so long. some people might never understand why someone would choose to go through this whole process, but i know it’ll be worth it in the end.

here’s my chest one day post-op! i think it looks super good and my surgeon said it looks like it’s healing perfectly (as much as it can be healing at one day). for reference, my chest was a DDD/F before surgery. i know this isn’t how my chest will look in the end, but i’m already thrilled with how things are turning out! i’ve truly never been more confident in my choice of surgeon — like, come on! look at that! she did so good!

#top surgery adventures #<- gonna start putting all the posts about my top surgery in that tag #top surgery #trans man #transmasc

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monzabee · 4 months

Text

T.G.I.F – cl16

Summary: The one where writing your thesis is harder than you think, but Charles is here to help you through all of it.

Pairing: charles leclerc x reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: stress and anxiety, having to make big life decisions, alcohol consumption and a lot of it, cursing, fluff!!

Request: “Hey Bee, I hope you’re having a lush weekend🥰 I’m not sure if you’re taking requests but I can’t stop thinking about Charles Leclerc with a super down to earth gf everyone loves. But maybe she’s got some things going on and deals with it by getting really wild when she’s drunk 🤷🏼‍♀️ thank you x” + “Hi! Would you be into writing a request for Charles, where the reader is going through some difficult time in life (could be mental health struggles, something work or "big life decisions" related, up to you), and he's being very supportive and understanding, offering help as well? ❤️”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i thought these two requests went very well together and i wanted to give it a go! if you know me then you know i’m very slow at working through my requests, but rest assured i am working on them, thank you for bearing through my slow streak with me!! and of course i had to make it about academic validation/stress because i’m not gonna lie but this master’s thing is kicking my ass and i relate to the reader very much so, lol! i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

Charles would not describe you as a high-strung person, not at all. If anything, you are one of the most down to earth people he’s ever met. He can’t even count all the times you’ve talked him down from a mental spiral, and given the position of his team this season, you’ve calmed him down from his stress many many times. So, imagine his surprise when the first thing he hears from his brother when he gets off his plane is that you are in the middle of a club in Monte Carlo, refusing to leave because you want to continue having fun. While he wouldn’t call you a homebody, Charles can admit that the two of you have spent more time at home instead of going out with your friends simply because of your shared love for quiet evenings and cosy nights in. It's not that you dislike socializing; it's just that both of you find joy in the simplicity of being together at home.

But now, as Charles rushes through the lively streets of Monte Carlo, he can't help but wonder what on earth has happened to have caused you to get so drunk. The sound of pulsating music grows louder as he approaches the entrance of the club. The bouncer gives him a sceptical look as Charles flashes his VIP pass, rushing inside with determination. The scene that unfolds before him is something out of character for you. Neon lights flash, and the beat of the music reverberates through the crowded space. People dance energetically, and laughter echoes against the walls. Charles spots you in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by a group of new friends, moving to the rhythm as if the world outside this club doesn't exist, and Arthur – who is trying to reason with you to get you to leave.

Charles pushes through the crowd, feeling a mix of confusion and amusement. He finally reaches you, gently tapping your shoulder to get your attention. When you turn around, the surprise on your face is evident.

“Charlie!" you exclaim, a wide grin on your face as you prolong the end of the nickname you’ve given him, “I thought you weren’t going to be back for another week!”

He raises an eyebrow, a bemused smile playing on his lips as you proceed to wrap your arms around his neck and continue jumping up and down at the same time. Placing his hands on your either side of your hips, he attempts to calm down your movements, “Well, I wanted to come home earlier to surprise you, but imagine my surprise when I realised my girlfriend is not home.” He can’t help himself as his eyes give you a worried look as he does his best to refrain from fussing over you, “Are you okay?”

“I'm more than okay, Charlie! I'm having the time of my life. Join us!” You giggle, swaying a little on your feet.

He sighs, shaking his head. "I appreciate the enthusiasm, but Arthur looks like he's about to give up on trying to get you to leave. What's going on?"

You glance over at your brother and then back at Charles. “He's just being a worrywart. I'm perfectly fine. Besides, I made some new friends!”

Charles raises an eyebrow. "I can see that, mon ange, but shouldn’t we go back home since it’s so late?"

You nod excitedly, as you choose to ignore his question – as if you’re trying to evade talking about what’s bothering you, he realises. “They're great! We've been dancing and laughing. You should meet them!”

Charles takes a deep breath, realizing that trying to reason with you in your current state might be a bit challenging. “Alright, let me meet your new friends, and then we can talk about heading home, okay?”

You nod eagerly, dragging him into the circle of your newfound companions. Arthur shoots Charles a grateful look as if to say, good luck. And he can feel that he’ll need it in the situation. And as always, Charles is a perfect gentleman as he meets with the group of girls, who are as drunk as you. You try your best to convince him to stay for a few songs, but he gives you a pleading look, which you cannot deny, as he wraps an arm around you, guiding you toward the exit. You protest playfully, wanting the night to continue, but he manages to convince you with a promise of a cosy night in together.

The walk back home is filled with laughter and the occasional stumble from you, but Charles keeps a steady arm around you, ensuring you don't stray too far off course. He is careful with you, of course, as he tries to navigate through the dimmed streets of Monte Carlo. He takes a deep breath of relief once the two of you make it to your shared apartment, and you immediately let yourself fall onto the couch to lean against the cushions with a contented sigh, your playful demeanour still intact. Charles retrieves a glass of water for you, handing it over with a gentle smile.

“Thanks, Charlie,” you say, taking a sip and leaning back against the couch. Charles sits beside you, his gaze softening as he looks at you.

“You're welcome,” he replies, his fingers gently brushing through your hair. “Now, tell me what prompted this spontaneous night out. I thought you needed to submit the final draft for your thesis.”

The fact that your reaction is instantaneous makes Charles realise that he royally fucked up by mentioning your thesis. In hindsight, he should’ve known better to bring it up, because you have been stressing over the assignment for months. You pause mid-sip, a shadow crossing your face. Charles can almost see the weight of the unfinished thesis settling back on your shoulders. Your playful demeanor fades, replaced by a more serious expression.

“Yeah, the thesis,” you say, avoiding his gaze. “I just needed a break from it all, you know? It's been consuming me, and tonight was my way of escaping the stress for a little while.”

Charles feels a pang of guilt. He should've known better than to bring up the one thing that has been causing you so much pressure. He reaches out, gently cupping your cheek to guide your eyes back to his. “I'm sorry, mon ange. I didn't mean to remind you of that. Let's talk about it. What's been going on with the thesis? Why is it stressing you out so much?”

You sigh, leaning into his touch. “It's just... I thought I'd be further along by now. The deadline is looming, and I can't seem to get everything to come together. It's like the more I work on it, the more overwhelmed I feel.”

Charles nods in understanding, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. “You don't have to go through this alone, you know. We can figure it out together. Maybe I can help, or we can find someone who can. You don't have to carry the weight of it all by yourself.”

You look up at him, leaning into his gentle touch as you close your eyes for a second to gather your thoughts, “It’s just–” You take a frustrated breath, thinking over your words once again. “I’m supposed be able to do this, how am I supposed to do a Ph.D when I can’t even write my master’s thesis properly?”

Charles listens quietly, his gaze never leaving yours. He can sense the frustration and self-doubt in your words. Leaning in, he places a tender kiss on your forehead before speaking with a reassuring tone. “You will finish it in time,” he assures you, “and you will pass with flying colours, don’t self-sabotage now when you’re almost done with it.”

“But it’s so hard,” dragging out the words as you basically throw yourself into his arms and groan against his sweater, “I just feel like I've hit a wall, and I just don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

Charles wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you bury your face in his sweater. He strokes your back soothingly, understanding the weight of your frustration. “I know it's hard, mon ange,” he says softly, his words a comforting melody. “But hitting a wall doesn't mean you can't break through it. And as for disappointing anyone, you're not a disappointment. You're human, and everyone faces challenges.” He takes a moment think, “And I say this as someone who has hit several walls-slash-barriers.”

An unexpected laughter comes from you, and to calm yourself you take a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of his sweater. “I just want to do well, to prove to myself and everyone else that I can handle this.”

Charles tilts your chin up, making you meet his gaze. “And you will. You're capable, smart, and resilient. This is just a temporary hurdle, not the end of the road. We'll find a way through it together.”

“Thank you for believing in me, even when I doubt myself.” You whisper, managing a small smile.

“Always, mon amour,” he replies, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “Now, let’s get you to bed, you’re going to have a killer headache tomorrow.”

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fluff

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prettyboykatsuki · 9 months

Note

oliver talking his partner through it and calling him d**** god your brain is so huge my stomach hurts thinking about this. he’ll never tell you he loves you to your face and tries to fuck you more like he hates you because he doesn’t want to get too attached but as you’re getting close he’s all in your face and your neck, teasing you, biting your ear and softly begging you to tell him how you feel, how it’ll be better for him if you tell d**** just how close you are and how much you need him. takes you over the crest so sweetly, and continues rolling into you, chasing his own. his kisses are nonstop and so overwhelming, and he knows they are but he just really needs to connect with you like this. never the first to say “i love you” but unfortunately (in his opinion) he expresses it in so many other ways. sorry.

but i crumble completely when you cry | a. oliver

✮ tags ; DADDY KINK, afab + fem!reader, situationship!oliver, hooking up, unresolved romantic tension, p in v, praise, soft sex, it gets emotionally strange, riding, creampies, unprotected sex, under-negotiated kink in a sense though oliver is very careful

✮ wc ; 2.2k (i dont want to talk about it)

✮ a/n ; anon im going to haunt your dreams for putting this absurd image into my head when i dont even go here im crying screaming throwing up ive been thinking about it for hours. hours of my life wasted on this guys dick. upsetting!!!!!

also i do not write this often and do not plan too again any time soon so if ur seeing this and thinking about following me for content like it i would not recommend!!!

✮ synopsis ; you don't trust oliver with your heart or your feelings. nor do you expect anything from him.

but it's hard not to lean into him when he decides to cradle you so gently.

Your relationship with Oliver is both very ambiguous and very clear.

There's a line drawn, and you both steer clear of crossing it in your interactions. Oliver is fun. He's attractive and charming, a massive flirt but just genuine enough to be interesting.

It helps that he's hot. Physically, he's got an unreal build.

He's an athlete, so he's big. Wide chest and strong arms, thick thighs and the height to top it off. He's 6'3, and he's sexy (and his dick is huge) - and you sleep with him because of that. You don't date him explicitly because he's a womanizer. If you'd met when you were a little younger, a little more naive - you might've tried to dog-train him into being your boyfriend.

Because on top of the immaculate dick, he's fun to be around. He's funny, he drinks well, he's not a scumbag in the ways that turn you off.

You're old enough to know better. You have a career. You're too busy, and too jaded about love to try and fix whatever weird shit he has going on. So even if the two of you harbor some sort of emotional or romantic feelings for each other, you're smart enough to not get invested in those feelings and smart enough to have no expectations.

Oliver is your fun. He's your sneaky link, your weekend off. You come to him to blow off steam. You have rough, fast sex and it's good. Sometimes you chill afterwards, and you'll indulge each other in some physical affection but other times you take your shower and leave. It's a good time, and you know well enough not to ever ask him for any of your emotional needs. You have your therapist and girl friends for that.

Normally, when you're having a rough week - it's prime time to go to him. He'll fuck you a little harder than usual, and sometimes he's nice enough to kiss it better. But it's still, very distinctly, never crossing that boundary.

But some weeks, like this week - shit is bad. Not just stressful bad, but everything in the fucking world that could go wrong, is going wrong bad. It's not the kind of thing you can get over by compartmentalizing and even when you try to do your usual thing it doesn't really work.

You're trying right now - to get over the fucked up week you had. And you're turned on, but somehow - it's still not enough to get you completely out of it.

Oliver pauses mid stroke, in missionary - hetero-chromatic eyes staring you down as your thoughts are somewhere else completely. You don't notice the first time he stops, or the first time he calls you.

And he only gets your attention by cupping your face and making you look at him. You startle as you cast your glance his way.

"What's with you?" He asks, though he's not pissed or anything "Not feelin' it? Want me to stop?"

"No, you don't have too."

"Not what I asked," He chastises, letting go of your face "Not having your full attention is making me go soft,"

This makes you laugh, and Oliver cracks a smile seeing the tension melt off your face if only slightly.

"I'm cool with stopping." He assures. You let your hand reach up to his shoulder.

"It's not like I want to stop, necessarily? Like I wanna do something to get my mind off it and sex feels like the best option, but you know how it goes sometimes," You say, trying your best to avoid the emotional baggage of your words "We can stop though. I'll pay you for your wasted time," You tack the joke on at the end to ease the tension.

You're expecting him to pull out and stop, or maybe challenge himself into fucking you so good that you forget. Something more quintessentially Oliver than what he does do.

He gives you a blank look first, than a laugh that is a touch too sincere for you to be comfortable "That bad of a week?"

You're suddenly in dangerous territory. Somehow, this strange intimacy makes all the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You swallow thickly, the emotions coming over you so quick you end up looking away.

"Yeah. You know. It's fine, but you know."

"Mm," He says. He leans into your space. His breath is warm and his stubble tickles your skin as he whispers in your ear. You feel your breath hitch. And the air feels heavy "Wanna try somethin' else?"

"Like what?"

"A surprise," He says first, and find your stomach tightening. A hollowness in your nerves "Gotta trust me."

"You're scaring me." You joke.

"I'm a sex expert, you know?" Oliver says, humming against your skin "If I can't remedy your little problem with my dick, it's bad for my street cred. My yelp reviews will tank."

"You're such a dumbass."

"Do you trust me?"

You don't know how to answer. Yes, for the most part. Not with everything, but with your pleasure at least. Whatever this is, it doesn't feel the same. But you say yes, anyways. Oliver kisses your jaw in reply, then he pulls out.

He flips position easily. He ends up on his back, then he grabs you to rest on top of him. You're not sure what you're expecting. He holds you by your hips as your sex hovers over his cock. His thumb is rubbing circles into your skin as he sinks you down slowly onto him.

You only stare at him, mouth opening as you feel him stretch you open for a second time.

You're more aware of it this way. He's so thick, and so intrusive - and normally, you're feeling that in hard strokes. Fast and rough, like something knocking into your cervix. But like this, he's hitting a deep angle. You can feel every curve, every inch, as you come down slowly.

He keeps you there. For longer than you'd expect. Just keeps you, settles you, holds you gently. You stare at him as he grabs your hand, locking your fingers. Your first instinct is to panic, or crack a joke - but there's an intense look in his eye that shuts you up.

Uncharacteristically gentle, you find yourself frightened. Oliver's hands reach for you again. They hold your waist and slide up the planes of your body. He holds your tits in his palms and squeezes.

He does this a lot, but there's not usually this much touching. This much foreplay. It's grabby, a deeper pressure. He doesn't...feel you, in the way he is now. You stare at him, and he looks back at you so fondly you feel a strange urge to pretend it never happened.

"Play with your clit," He says, though there's no urgency in his voice.

Deep and smooth, the timbre in it has you shaking. You listen, on auto-pilot as you play with yourself clumsily and build a slow pressure. He just watches.

"C'mere, baby. And don't stop touching yourself."

Another pause. It's not the first time he's called you that. He likes to call you all sorts of things when you're fucking, and baby is one of the few. But not like that. Not like this. He gives you a lazy, self satisfied smile and encourages you by placing a hand on where he can reach on your low back.

You lean down, and Oliver tucks you into his chest. He's warm, and strong - and smells so good, like musk and cologne. Your free hand is on his chest, as he grips your hips and fucks up into you.

"That's it," His voice is pleasant to your ears. It feels funny to you "Just gotta listen to me."

He starts fucking you slowly. It's a familiar feeling, a pleasant stretch that dulls into a euphoric fullness. But it's never been this slow before. Each thrust is slow, and punctual, and so deep you feel yourself gasping. It's not enough to push you over the edge, but it's enough to make your mind feel a little numb.

You think he's going to keep at you like this, maybe edge you to take you out of it. But he doesn't. He keeps his pace.

"Had a hard time this week, didn't you, tough girl?" He mumbles, so low it doesn't feel real. You feel your heart start to race. You feel your throat start to close around something, choking "Did a good job and came to me. Gonna let me take care of it?"

You stumble. You aren't sure what to say, you nod and hope he feels it. He laughs a little. You can't be sure if you're fucking Oliver or not.

You know it's him but he's never been like this. Not once. Not ever.

"Gonna let daddy take care of you?" He says, though it's tentative. Your breath hitches. Something strange overwhelms your senses "Tell me, baby."

"Uhm," Your first reaction is a sense of resistance, an immediate pull away. Not that you hate it but you aren't sure how to adjust. You squirm, but you don't tell him no. You feel like you can't in this state "Uh-uh,"

He keeps surprising you, pressing his lips to yours where you hover over him, tender as he ups the pace of his thrusts.

"That's what I like to hear," He almost sounds proud "You'll hurt your head if you think too much. And I'd be a bad daddy, letting that happen, yeah?"

A vulnerable, foreign sensation drives you to speak "You're not bad in that way."

He laughs "Just in other ways, right?"

You giggle "Uh-huh."

"But not in this one," He repeats, very carefully. He fucks into you harder now, pays extra special attention to you. It's all for you, is what he's saying in a language completely foreign yet somehow so known. One only the two of you will ever know fully, confined in the four walls of this room "Daddy is good at taking care of you like this, so you should let him do just that. Tough girls always need their daddies, hm?"

It's what ends up tipping you up over the edge. You cling to him, succumbing to whatever weird space the two of you have fallen into you. Suspended in this odd sense of comfort that Oliver has thrust you in unannounced.

You don't trust Oliver with a lot, and this is more than what you should ever find yourself giving. In the back of your head you think you should pull away.

But he's comforting. It feels good, and strangely feels safe - and even for all the ways he's awful, you trust he'd never do anything bad to you. Even if it's a blip in the timeline, for now it's what you need. A blurry cross into your emotional needs that translate into your physical ones. Too much and so overwhelming, you hug closer to him and take a deep breath.

"Mm," You let yourself lean into him. Just this once, you promise yourself. "I wanna cum."

"Want it a little harder?"

"Mhm,"

"Then Daddy will give it to you a little harder, yeah? Anything for you." He says, and you try not to think to deeply on what that really means. Because even in this state you know it's not nothing, but you should never pry "Daddy can give you anything you want."

"Yeah?"

He chuckles a little as he fucks into you hard. Fucks into you how you need. You're wet enough, and wondering if you were always so into being doted on. Or if it's just the fact that it's Oliver. Another thing you decide to overlook as you zero in on the sensation of being pistoned from underneath. You're soaking. The room noisy with the sticky noise of Olivers cock penetrating you over and over, skin hitting skin as his hips press against your ass. His grip is bruising but not intentionally, his chest huffed in pleasure.

He's just as close as you are, you know all of his cues. You play with your clit faster, sensitive bud throbbing hard as all the blood rushes south. Your mouth has fallen open as the slow, thick desire coiling and culminating into something cosmic. Something big and heavy, but not too fast. Not a crash landing like you're used to.

But a single weight, the force of a star dropping to Earth. You figure Oliver is the gravity in your universe, holding you down so you don't float too far. You want to cling onto him for much longer.

And somehow, you're inclined to think he would let you.

"Oliver," You say his name as it builds, then decide on something else "Daddy,"

"I'm here, baby," He says back, like it's all he has to say for everything to make sense when nothing about this does "I'm right here. Let go."

So you do. You cum hard, and it comes in long never ending waves. Too much. It makes you collapse in Olivers arms, both arms coming around his neck as he continues to fuck you through the aftermath.

"Gonna," He voices, rasping as his thrusts become sloppy "Shit. Cumming, shit."

He cums with you, cums deep inside like usual and you mewl at the feeling of being filled with hot, sticky seed.

When it's over, you're almost afraid to look at him. When the tensions settled, and his chest goes back to it's steady breaths - you wonder whats going to happen next.

"Wanna stay like this for a while?"

You nod.

"Mm. Sleepy."

"Stay like this, then. I'll wake you in a little."

"So you can kick me out?" You joke, trying to pretend nothing is different. He pauses.

"Just to shower," He whispers, hand resting on your lower back "Sleep."

There's too much to think about. Tomorrow will be strange. You let yourself succumb to your own exhaustion.

"Okay."

#return to sender #daddy kink cw #oliver x reader #oliver aiku x reader #oliver aiku smut #bllk x reader #bllk smut #writing tag #this wouldve become a 10k fic if i was not so fucking careful

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spideyhexx · 5 months

Note

not to be nasty or anything but i wanna fuck coryo on my strap so hard he pees himself

anon, i welcome filth, so don’t worry. this is sending my insanity out the window. And idk if you even wanted this exactly or you were joking but alas.

mdni; tw piss kink (if you don't like it, just don't read it!)

It would be one of those nights where Coryo just needs to let himself go. He's so fucking stressed about all the work he needs to do.

And he had already been working his ass off all day but there was still so much to get done now that he's officially running for office. Nights like these are when little words are spoken at dinner between you two, but the way he leans into your touch and the slight glint of tears in his eyes as he looks at you puts you right in the position you need to be to satisfy him (and yourself).

That's what led Coryo to be on his knees and forearms in bed with you behind him, fucking him with your strap. The dick wasn't even that big, but it was enough for Coryo, especially when he's came twice already. He so badly wanted to just shove his face into the pillow so you wouldn't see his tears, but he knew you liked it. In fact, his face was so wet from his tears, the pillow was already damp.

He really thought you'd let up after he came the second time, the mess beneath him on the bed made him whine in embarrassment but you simply leaned down to kiss his back before fucking your hips into him again. Coryo always had a hard time talking when he was like this, but when he chuckles at your movements, you know this is exactly what he wanted.

Usually when you overstimulated him, it was to make him a mess. You loved seeing him ruin his satin sheets with his cum, his beautiful face splotchy from crying and his hair an absolute mess. This was the case as you thrust into him, his cock still leaking in small dribbles onto the bed, his own hand gripping at his hair to relieve some of the sensitive tension coursing through his body.

Coryo felt the pressure in his bladder after he finished the second time, but he paid no mind to it. He thought you'd slow down as you always did when giving him his last orgasm of the night. Usually, you'd turn him around so you can kiss his face, mumbling, "my pretty boy," as you milked him dry in the most agonizing way possible.

Not tonight though. You're not even sure why, but the sight of how sloppy the possible President of Panem looked on his bed urged you to go harder. It was as though a switch flipped in you and you're gripping his hips tightly, nails surely leaving marks as you pound into him.

Coryo did not seem to mind though. This time, he did push his head into his pillow. "ffffuck," he hisses out, followed by a grunt, "k-keep goin' please, s-so close."

He'd even try to reach a hand down to hold his aching cock, but it was too sensitive to the touch, his own hand starting to shake. You hear him mumble but you can't even make out what he's saying. Coryo knows he's saying absolute nonsense, becoming a blabbering mess.

He hears how heavy you're panting and your voice go soft, "one more for me, okay? I got you," and your hand splayed on his lower back as as you exert whatever energy you got left in you to fuck him silly.

He's spilling onto the bed again before you can even utter another word. It's a smaller load, but it still sends shockwaves throughout his body until the feeling is gone. He's so relaxed, so focused on the way you move the cock in him slower now, your hand rubbing his sweaty back in a soothing manner, he barely realizes that he's starting to piss.

"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck," he whispers and moans in relief at the feeling, and he hears your gasp when you notice what's happening. Coryo whines, but spares a glance down at himself, seeing the cum stained sheets beneath him and his piss soak into it as well, creating a puddle at his knees and yours. Coryo surprises himself when he feels the twinge in his stomach and his cock twitch, but he's waiting in silence to hear what you say.

He expects you to pull away and berate him. "Oh my baby, couldn't hold it in?" Your voice sounded like the embodiment of a smirk and Coryo wished he could turn and roll his eyes at you. All he does is nod and your hand is rubbing his back again as he finally finishes relieving himself.

"Why was that hot?" Your laugh is breathy and he lets out a breath himself as you slip out of him, leaning down to kiss the small of his back.

"You're never gonna let me live this down," he mumbles, slowly moving from his position. When you see his face, he's got a small smile.

"Never. Especially since you liked it, you perv." You give his hair a tussle and his cheek a kiss before going off to the bathroom to run a bath for both of you.

Coryo scoffs, trying to act like he didn't but you see through him. You always see through him. So much so, the next time one of these nights comes about, Coryo is asking for it. "Held it in half the day, baby. Think you can fuck me hard enough again?"

let's chat about coryo, here :)

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lovebugism · 7 months

Note

hi angel! I have a little fictober request … can I pls get holding hands for the first time from the prompt list with steve harrington and shy!reader? maybe they’re in a busy place and steve doesn’t want to lose r so he grabs her hand, not realising how ridiculously flustered she gets <3333

ty for requesting angel :D this can be read as a part two to this fic!

summary: steve takes you to a mall in the city in a desperate attempt to spend time with you, fending off freaks, douchebags, and your anxious tendencies alike (shy!reader, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers cw for mentions of anxiety, 3.5k)

fictober leftovers (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Steve idles between the X-rated horror and thriller sections for several long minutes until he works up the courage to talk to you. You’re a pretty little thing behind the counter, hand in your palm as you scribble into the journal Keith threatened to confiscate from you earlier that morning.

He’s never been this nervous to talk to you. Things are different now. Post-first date, and Steve’s still toeing that wretched line between friends and something more. The puppy love is so painfully mutual, but it’s equally hard to navigate. He can’t come on too strong — not with someone as soft as you — but he’s still got some King Steve left in him. He’s still learning how to be gentle.

With sweaty hands, he walks up to the counter and tries to be subtle about the whole thing. Stealthy, like a ninja. He leans on his folded-up arms and blurts before he means to, “So you’re, like, totally coming tomorrow, right?”

You lift your chin and blink at him with wide eyes. You hadn’t heard him come over, too busy doodling a bunch of nothingness in your notebook. Your stomach whirls at the sight of him. It takes you a moment too long to answer.

“Coming… where?”

“To the mall,” he reminds, then corrects himself with a shrug. “The one in the city— not the shithole we have here.”

“Oh. Uh, I don’t— I don’t know,” you stammer. Steve invited you earlier that week, and you promised to think about it. You did. And you want so desperately to go, but your brain’s too mean, and it just won’t let you.

The disappointment that flashes on his face is fleeting, but you don’t miss it. The hurt softens his features in an unbearable way. It makes your chest ache.

“C’mon,” Steve presses in a gentle lilt. He leans closer to you, eyes twinkling and lips curling. “It could be fun, you know? I mean, everyone’s gonna be there.”

He’s trying his best to persuade you. He has no idea that that’s exactly what’s keeping you from going. Crowds are always stress-inducing, even those of the familiar kind.

“Everyone as in…?”

“Robin, obviously. Dustin, too,” Steve answers, counting on his fingers as he goes. “Max is coming, but Lucas has a basketball thing, so he can’t. And the rest of the little shits are in California, so that’s definitely a plus.”

It’s a dumb joke, but it makes you laugh anyway — a quiet giggle of a thing that makes him grin.

“Uh… Eddie’s coming, too, I think— but don’t let that dissuade you, alright? I promise I’ll protect you from that freak. You don’t have to worry about him.”

You smile because you know he’s joking. You’ve met Eddie a couple times now. He’s always been really sweet to you. Him and Steve just have a strange complex that forces them to be assholes to each other.

“And also, I’m gonna be there. Obviously. So…” he trails off with a wavering smile. So if you don’t wanna come for them, maybe you can come for me, is what he’s really trying to tell you.

“I don’t know,” you repeat, quieter now as you shrink into yourself. You try and fail to meet Steve’s honeyed gaze. “I just feel like I’ll make everything all weird.”

His bushy brows pinch, almost in offense that you’d think you’re anything less than totally perfect. “Why would you think that?”

“‘Cause… I don’t know,” you murmur in a quiet sigh. You don’t want to lie to him, but telling the truth feels so much harder. “They don’t really know me, you know? And I feel like… like I’ll just ruin everything if I’m there…”

It takes Steve a couple of seconds to answer you. He doesn’t know how you could say something that — like you don’t light up every room you’re in. “Well, that’s… that’s just not true,” he argues with a shrug. “They like you. They love you, actually— they just wanna get to know you. And the only way they’re gonna get to know you is if you come hang out every once in a while.”

Your heart flutters. You want to believe him. It’s hard for you to comprehend that anyone could care so much about your presence, so you just nod and don’t say anything further.

Steve is quick to comfort you, almost like he can read your mind. “But if you think it’s gonna be too much, you could always just stick with me. I’ll fend off the freaks for you, no problem.”

His cinnamon eyes glimmer with honey. He looks at you far too fondly to say no.

—————

There’s six of you crammed into Steve’s 733i. It’s already a tight fit, but it’s more suffocating when it’s full of a million different conversations. Almost all of them are pointed your way. Steve tries to bat everyone off of you, but it’s hard to yell at everyone and drive at the same time.

You’re being a pretty good sport about it despite how anxiously helpless you feel.

You wring your clammy hands in your lap and try to regulate your bated breaths, nodding to whatever Max is telling you. It’s hard to hear her because Eddie’s talking to you, too. You’re too scared he’ll think you’re mean if you stop him.

You watch Robin reach for the radio, complaining about all the yelling as she turns up the volume. The cheesy pop song is all you can hear. The conversations around you become a monotone buzzing. You feel like you could just about explode.

“Jesus, you guys are acting like you’ve never seen another person before,” Steve shouts over it all, the only definite thing you can understand. “Let her breathe before she thinks we’re all a bunch of lunatics, alright?”

He’s met with a bunch of muffled complaints, but the noise quietens nonetheless.

Steve glances at you in the rearview, a quick check to make sure you’re still okay. You catch him doing it and try your best to give him a smile. It looks more like a wince.

“Well, it’s your fault for finally bringing someone cool around,” Max argues with all her practiced teenaged ambiguity. “I have to spend all day surrounded by freaks— at least now there’s someone halfway normal to talk to.”

“I’m normal!” Steve insists, face twisted in offense.

“You’re a jock.”

“Hey. C’mon, Red,” Eddie scolds, so obviously playful. “Let’s not go throwing the j-word around—”

The brunette boy huffs. “Thank you!”

“—Jock would imply that Steve’s still cool,” the wild-haired boy continues. “Which he isn’t.”

Poorly hidden laughter fills the small car. Steve nods and mutters beneath it all, “Yeah. Okay. Thanks for the clarification, Munson.”

He glances at you again and finds you cracking a halfway sincere smile. He shoots you a light-hearted glare. “Don’t laugh! You’re just encouraging him!”

“Sorry,” you apologize, hiding your giggle behind your fist. “’M sorry.”

Steve smiles at you, silently tells you he doesn’t really mean it. He’d let Musnon make fun of him all day if he thought it meant he’d get to hear you laugh like that again.

—————

You take your first good breath in an hour when you step out of the car.

Steve shuts it off and gravitates towards you on instinct. His honey eyes are wide as they dart across your flustered features. You see his hands reach towards you, to grab your elbows maybe, but he decides against it.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, quicker than you mean to. “I’m good.”

“Okay. I’m sorry. I really tried to—”

“I know,” you cut him off with a sweet, still quiet smile. “It’s still okay.”

He sighs heavy, like a deep breath of relief. “Okay. Good,” he hums, almost to himself, nodding with a pink grin you could stare at all day. He would’ve let you, but neither of you get the chance.

Your friends start messing around, and the chaos melts into the buzzing crowd surrounding you, and you realize the two of you aren’t the only people on earth. Bummer.

You gather around the large map at the entrance of the bustling mall. “Where should we go first?” Dustin chirps from the front of the crowd. His eyes are as wide as his smile. “Game Player? Sam Goody? Oh, look— they have a RadioShack! I’ve been looking for a new supercomm. It’s on the other side of the building, though, but we can just work our way around, I guess—”

“Jesus, Dusty-Bun,” Robin interjects with a gritty laugh. She stands on the outside of the group, arms crossed over her chest, effortlessly too cool for it all. “Take a breath, buddy.”

“Don’t call me that!” the boy gripes over his right shoulder.

Steve shrugs. “Go wherever you want to. I don’t care.”

Dustin looks to his left, shooting the older boy a glare. “Aren’t you supposed to be the babysitter?”

“You’re fourteen!”

“Well, what if I get kidnapped?”

“No one’s kidnapping you, alright? Trust me,” Steve jokes, only smiling when he sees you trying to hide yours. He puts his hands on his waist and cocks his hip to the side. “They’ll send you right back where you came from. You have nothing to worry about.”

Dustin squints. “Rude.”

“We’ll just meet back at the food court in, like, two hours. And if you don’t get yourself killed, you’ll be fine,” Steve reasons with a nonchalant shrug and a jutted-out lip.

“Oh. Wow. Thanks, Steve. What would I ever do without you?”

He rolls his cinnamon eyes at the boy’s monotone. “Alright, smartass.”

When the rest of the group dissipates, he leans over to nudge your shoulder. It knocks you from your stupor — so deep in your own head you were practically drowning. You blink at him with wide, glassy eyes. “Hm?”

“Do you wanna go anywhere?” he asks with a wavering smile. His laugh is equally forced. “You’re kinda staring a hole into the map there…”

“Oh. No. I was just…” you trail off with a shake of your head. You’re not entirely sure what to tell him, how to make him understand your easily overstimulated mind. “I was just distracted. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. No big deal.”

“Where did everyone else go?” you wonder with a furrow to your brow, noticing the lack of familiar chaos around you.

“Eddie and Dustin went to some movie store, and I think Robin and Max are on the hunt for cassettes.”

“Okay...” you nod with a tremble in your voice.

You’re still not totally used to being alone with Steve. Your friends are usually good distractions. They fill your awkward silences with something funnier and talk loud when you get too quiet. When they’re not around it’s just… awkward silences and quiet air.

You get too in your own head, so eager to impress the pretty boy beside you, that you end up putting your foot in your mouth.

Steve doesn’t seem nearly as apprehensive. Instead, he’s beaming at the fact that he’s finally got you alone. He doesn’t have to worry about quieting Dustin when he gets too loud or shoving Eddie away when he forgets what personal space is. It’s quieter with just the two of you — warmer, cozier, easier.

“Wanna go down to the food court?” he wonders, honey eyes sparkling when he looks your way. “I know you haven’t eaten anything yet, so…”

Your eyes narrow, accusing and playful. “How would you know that?”

“Uh, ‘cause I know you,” the boy scoffs like it’s obvious. “I basically have to force you to eat every morning.”

“That’s not true!”

“It so is!” Steve giggles and it’s heaven to your ears, the exact sound of honey. “That’s why I hate not opening with you. ‘Cause if I’m not around to force you to eat the other half of my Poptart, I’m just, like, worrying if you’re withering away or not.”

Your face burns hot. Your heart swells with a similar warmth that borders on painful. You didn’t think he cared so much about you — or that he ever thought about you outside of work or the occasional hangout.

“Fine,” you concede with your arms crossed over your chest, trying not to seem as flustered as you feel. “Let’s go to the food court.”

Steve grins. He follows you in stride when you start to head that way. “Cool. We can go get one of those disgustingly good burgers or something.”

“For breakfast?” you wonder with a light-hearted laugh.

“Yeah! Like, one of those crazy huge ones, you know? The patties are, like, the size of your fist— make a fist.”

You do. You ball your fingers and hold them up between you. Steve holds onto your wrist for further inspection, fingers long and warm and soft. You swallow.

“Bigger than your fist,” he corrects with a laugh. The sweet sound is drowned out by the swell of yelling teenagers. They talk so loudly and over one another that their conversations become a meaningless drones.

Two in particular shove at one another, laughing loud like it’s fun. One of them almost barrels into you — long blonde hair, tight shirt, tighter jeans, and cologne so potent it stings your nose. He just narrowly misses you, mostly because Steve’s there to yank you out of the way.

The boy’s gentle grip on you tightens. He pulls you close until you’re stumbling into his side. With a strong arm wrapped around you, he shouts at the roughhousing teens — “Watch where you’re going, assholes!”

The scrawny boys walk on ahead of you. They seem apologetic, halfway scared at first. When they realize Steve’s not rushing to beat their asses, they chuckle about the whole thing and keep punching each other.

You’re still frozen in shock — not so much of fear anymore, but of how tightly Steve’s holding onto you. It’s an embrace of the firmer kind, a touch so solid you feel immediately safer inside it. You don’t think you’ve ever been this close before. The teenage girl in your heart starts to spin.

“You okay?” Steve asks when the anger ebbs.

“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing tightly and forcing an awkward laugh. “You don’t have to keep asking me that, you know?”

He nods rapidly, then notices how close he’s holding you. Fearful that he’s made you uncomfortable, he uncurls his arm from around you and takes a small step back. “No, I know! I just wanna— I just wanna make sure, you know? ‘Cause I know you don’t like… all this.”

He waves his hands vaguely out beside him.

You’re immediately cold without him holding you. You wrap your arms around yourself to compensate for the lack of him.

“Yeah, but… It’s not the rest of the world’s fault that I’m scared of everything,” you say with another forced laugh, shifting your weight on your feet. If you could melt into your oversized sweater, you would. “It’s mine. So I can deal with it. I have to deal with it.”

Steve nods, slower this time and with a silent sense of understanding. He steps closer to you and shrugs. “I think the least I can do is make it a little easier on you… And I feel like I’ve been doing the exact opposite of that all day.”

“That’s not true,” you argue with the shake of your head.

His chocolate eyes widen. You’re rarely so assertive. “No?”

“No,” you answer, softer this time as you grow sheepish all over again. Your unsure gaze darts from your dirty sneakers to his twinkling eyes until it makes you dizzy. “You’re actually making it more bearable for me, so…”

“Oh. Okay. Good,” he nods with a smile, breathless because his chest is swelling with pride. He knows the world can be a little much for someone as soft as you. It’s good to know that he’s the exception to all that.

He gets lost in the way you look at him for a moment too long. He clears his throat and stammers, “Uh, do you still wanna go get food?” he asks, pointing off beside him. “We can find somewhere quiet to eat so we don’t have to deal with teenage douchebags the entire time.”

Your heart lurches into your throat. It’s practically your love language — spending time alone in a quiet space, with no overt need for conversation or people to fill the void.

You nod, trying and failing to hide the beam on your face. “Yeah. That’d be nice.”

—————

The quiet place in question is a photo booth on the halfway vacant, furthest end of the mall. Closed curtains, small spaces, and entwined breaths. It smells like his deep cologne, your perfume, and a freshly cooked meal. It’s too easy to forget that there’s a whole world outside of here.

You sit twisted on the bench, facing Steve with your burger trays in front of you. You pluck salty fries from the plate with a trembling hand, distantly fearful that you’re not supposed to be eating here. You think being so close to Steve is worth the risk.

“Is this the day you were expecting to have?” Steve asks with a lopsided grin. He takes a big bite of his burger right after and gets mustard on the corner of his mouth.

“No,” you answer, giggling as he swipes the stain away with his tongue. “But not because it’s bad.”

“Hm?” he hums to egg you on. He’s got too much of a mouthful for anything else.

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head, equally nonverbal as you chew on a handful of fry crumbs. You swipe your palms together to dispel the grains of salt. “I’m having more fun than I thought I would, actually.”

Steve scoffs in disbelief. “Spending time with me? Alone in a photo booth? That’s a good time to you?”

His tone makes you self-conscious. You feel a little shameful, like a child, because you don’t need much to be entertained. You get all warm with embarrassment, too. Being alone with Steve has always felt like climbing mountains — something short of an adrenaline rush that makes you think you could conquer the world. Maybe you’re too small in comparison to do the same for him.

“Yeah,” you shrug in an inaudible murmur. “I don’t know— I just… I like spending time with you, you know? I don’t really care what we’re doing.”

Steve’s chest swells. From a girl who too often keeps to herself, inherently nervous and incessantly frightened of being a burden, it’s more of a proclamation of love than he ever thought he’d get from you.

“Well, I’m glad we’re on the same page,” he confesses with a crooked pink grin, internally praying his cheeks aren’t as red hot as they feel.

He holds his half-eaten burger out towards you. You knock yours with his, clinking them together like champagne glasses. He takes another too big bite. You go to do the same but get a whiff of the sleeve of your sweater before you can.

“God, I smell like a teenage boy,” you groan, only half-playful. The nose-burning musk from the kid from before has seemingly stuck itself onto you. Like fruit and sage and wood and vanilla, every scent ever made combined.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything, but you definitely smell like bodyspray,” Steve affirms, scruffy cheeks jutted out from the burger in his mouth.

“I think I’ve been tainted,” you giggle, a quieter sound compared to his boyish laughter. “Thanks for saving me, by the way.”

You’re saying it to be nice, but you watch him get all shy about it when you take a bite of your sandwich. He shifts on the bench, like he suddenly can’t get comfortable. When he rubs his palms on his thighs, you can’t tell if it’s because of the salty fries or because they’re clammy.

“Yeah— I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to grab you like that,” he stammers with an apologetic twinkle in his eye and a gaze that can’t quite meet yours. “Just so you know. I was just trying to—”

“Save me?” you interject.

Steve smiles when he sees how softly you’re looking at him. He shrugs. “Well, I was gonna say ‘pull you from the line of fire,’ but sure.”

“It’s okay,” you repeat for perhaps the thousandth time that day. “I didn’t mind. It felt nice, actually— you have really warm hands.”

“That’s ‘cause yours are always ice cold.”

“Well, maybe that’s because you’re not holding them,” you blurt before you mean to.

You freeze mid-bite, eyes wide in distant horror as your blood runs cold. In a desperate attempt to break away from the awkwardness you caused, you muster a trembling smile. “I’m kidding,” you murmur, halfway hidden behind your burger.

You weren’t.

Steve knows this, too, so he smiles.

He’d been thinking about it all day, in truth — how he was gonna get to hold your hand without having to stick his foot in his mouth to ask you. Turns out, a series of unfortunate events and an impromptu date in a photo booth was all it took. And he’s grateful. For all of it.

“No, you weren’t,” he teases, fingers as warm as his smile when he wraps them around yours. He holds gently onto your hand — even though it makes eating a little harder, even though your fingers are cold, even though you tremble.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: fictober!

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thebibliosphere · 10 months

Note

Hi there, ive come from your post about ADHD and emotional disregulation, firstly thank you so much for putting it into words, its such a complicated part of how i deal with emotions and i havent ever been able to articulate how to why.

Secondly, in that post you mentioned how you've used stress as a motivator and how eventually your stress regualtion broke, i was wondering if you'd be willing to talk about that? (If not, its not a problem)

I feel like the same thing has happened to me but until i read your post i had no idea that something had... snapped? I suppose? I struggle with motivation all the time and in the past id have a week or a few days left and id be able to suddently push myself very hard to complete whatever it is before the deadline, just barely making it in most cases. However now it seems that i can't find that motivation anymore, deadlines come and pass and i can't being myself to work on anything, and i just end up spiralling into shame and guilt. That motivation was the only thing that I was able to rely on sometimes for things like uni, and i conviced myself that it was just me growing lazy or trying to get out of responsibility as to why the "last minute panic-mode" doesnt work anymore.

Again, if you don't wanna tackle this can of worms or if it's something youd rather not post online i totally get it, its no biggie! thanks so much for making the original post as well, it means a lot

Hello friend, thanks for the message. I'm sorry you're also dealing with this.

The good news here is that I've already talked about this using the rubber band analogy my therapist gave me. (Stress is like a Rubber Band)

If you don't have the mental bandwidth to read all of it now, the tl;dr is "stress is like a rubber band; it can stretch to hold numerous things in place when you need to, but if you do it too often or keep adding more and more strain under the band, the elastic eventually becomes brittle and snaps, taking your mental and sometimes physical health with it too."

I've been in intensive therapy for this for roughly three years now, and trying to piece my brain back together after my last bout of stress-induced productivity gave me a total mental breakdown.

It's... odd not being able to use stress and having to actively avoid it to avoid a relapse. But it is doable. Medication would help, but alas, I've got weird health issues and am unmedicated at the minute.

(And just in case that sparks anyone to go, "Oh, you do all this unmedicated! Wow, that's so inspiring!" as sometimes parents do to me on here as they then tell me they don't want to medicate their kids, I've unfortunately also written a post about what that kind of success looks like from an unmedicated perspective and the kind of suicidal ideation I deal with on the regular because I cannot take meds. It is not pleasant reading, but it is necessary for some folks, specifically anti-med, "if you just tried harder" people.)

A book you may find helpful is Burnout: The Secret to Unlocking the Stress Cycle, by Emily and Amelia Nagoski. It was very validating for me to read about other people going through the same things, and made me feel less of a "this is a personal failing on my part" and more of a "Oh okay yeah, no stress literally breaks people."

It helped soothe some of my own internalized "I just need to try harder" and helped cement me on the path I was already going down with my ADHD therapist toward changing how I view myself and how I manage my ADHD.

I hope that helps! If you've got more specific questions or I didn't touch on something in my old post, I can try to answer them :)

#chronic health tag #adult adhd #adhd

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ferrarrigirl · 7 months

Text

Traditions Don’t Make it Easier

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: just a fluff filled blurb came to mind about Lando having to leave for a triple header

“Can you grab the blankets too,” you yelled to Lando as he went to grab the wine, hoping he heard. You continue cooking the sauce and stirring the boiling pasta when you feel two hands snake around your waist and curly locks brush your ear. He settles his head on your shoulder and turns to kiss your cheek, “Got them. Anything else I can help with babe?”.

“Hmm” you lean back into his touch, letting yourself enjoy his warmth for a few minutes. “Alright, as much as I love the cuddles, could you set the table?”

“Ofcourse baby,” He pops another kiss to your cheek and gets to work. You strain the pasta, mix it in with the creamy tomato sauce and get it plated. You put the finishing touches to the salad and grabbed the garlic bread out the oven.

“Everything looks amazing omg” Lando’s eyes lit up seeing everything done. “It does, doesn’t it,” you do a little hand clap, excited that you both didn’t burn the house down this time. You each grab the bowls and move it to the patio.

“Aw Lan, it looks beautiful, thank you,” you settle into your seat while admiring the table beautifully set with lit candles and flowers. He leans down placing a kiss to the top of your head, “It’s the least I could do love.” You both start working through the meal while talking about what the next month is going to look like. “I’m excited for the triple header, the car’s been really good and I know it’ll work well at COTA but it’ll be exciting to see how we do in Mexico and Brazil.”

You admire the way he talks, sounds so much happier compared to the start of the year. “I’m excited for you babe, I’ll be cheering you on from here,” You give him a soft smile. Because you really are, It been 4 long years without getting the results he deserved, and now is his moment to shine. You just wish you could be there with him. He notices the slight tears in your eyes and reaches for your hand, “I know baby, thank you, and anytime anything changes, you tell me and I’m getting you on the next flight out.” You laugh at his cheeky ways, and he sends you his signature smirk while giving your hand a reassuring squeeze, “Now tell me what your gonna be up to while I’m gone.”

“Ugh Lan I don’t want to think about that right now”.

“Cmon babe I can feel the stress oozing out of you and you know you’ll feel better.”

“Fine,” you playfully roll your eyes, “just gonna have school 4 days of the week, I have 2 midterms and 3 assignments due all within the same week, and a group project the week after. Such a fun few weeks ahead,” you give him a sarcastic smile.

‘Well you’ve already been working on the assignments right and you’ll have a few days to finish those up, and then you can just focus on exams.”

You look up from your food with raised eyebrows and point your fork at him, “You actually listen”

He snorts at your comment, “I have to listen so I can talk you down when your stressed.” You giggle back, knowing he’s 100% right. You both finish up your meals, making more small talk and just enjoying each other’s presence.

You bring your dishes in, and while Lando gets the movie picked, you grab the wine bottle and glasses and bring it over to him. He lifts the blankets, “C’mere” and you jump into his lap making an “Umph” leave his mouth, followed by a laugh. You cuddle into his chest, squeezing your arms around him and try focusing on the TV.

You just can’t help your brain go to how tough the next few weeks are going to be. You should be used to him going by now and yeah you get to go along for some races. You even just had summer break and took time off school to be with him the whole time. But the more its getting into the year its harder to see him leave. And this is why you started this tradition. Dinner drinks movie night and cuddles. The day before he goes is saved just for you two, to be with each other but it doesn’t make it any easier. You feel your eyes tearing again and start blinking them away rapidly. It will just make him feel bad and you want to be supportive. But before you can get away with it, he feels your fluttering lashes on his chest. Taking your chin into his thumb and forefinger he pulls your chin up to get a good look of your red eyes, and his gaze softens. “Hey hey hey what’s going on?”

That set you off, the way he held your chin and looked deep in your eyes, it was too much. You turn in his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck squeezing him tight. You push your face into the crook of his shoulder and just let the tears fall, release everything you’ve been holding in. He knows you just need a minute so he rubs your back up and down, whispering sweet sayings into your ear. Once he notices no more tearing falling onto his shoulder, he slowly speaks up, “Baby please talk to me.”

You slowly push yourself away from your hiding spot, and see the concern in his eyes. He moves one hand to cup your cheek, using his thumb to clear your tears. “I know its never easy when I go but you’re never this emotional love, is there something going on?”

“It’s just hard Lan. I- I want to be there to support you. I wanna be there cheering for you.” You take a deep breath and he lets you take your time, still rubbing your back. You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for the word vomit you feel coming.

“I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to be here alone, I’m gonna be so stressed these next weeks and I won’t have you here and I can’t tell you because then you feel bad and you shouldn’t feel bad because its your job and passion. And I should be there for you, supporting you and cheering for you and I’m not.” All of this brings the tears back and you lean forward again into the comfort of his shoulder. He wraps his arms around you holding you close, taken aback by everything you said, he takes a second before replying.

“Oh bub, you can always tell me what’s going on. I’m here for you, I won’t feel bad and you shouldn’t either for wanting me here.” He pulls you back again, placing a quick kiss to your forehead. “I know it’ll be hard but it’ll go by quick. You’ll be busy with school, and you’ll do great because won’t have me here to distract you.”

“But I like when you distract me,” you quickly cut him off.

“I know baby, I know. How about you come with me this week? And for Brazil week.”

You shake your head, “It won’t work.”

“It can. I’m leaving a week earlier for COTA so I’ll be busy with media in the day. You can stay in the hotel, and do what you need to do. You can leave Sunday in time for school, and then be back for Brazil.”

“But what about my group project?”

“You can call them to discuss, you don’t need to be there that week.”

You bite your lip, contemplating all this he dropped on you. “You need a minute to think about it, don’t you?” You give him a weak smile and nod. “Well we got all night, get comfy again,” he pops another kiss to the top of your head.

You cuddle into his chest again, watching the movie and running his idea over in your head. It could work you thought, the flying might be annoying but it would be worth it. You wear yourself out weighing up the pros and cons and feel your eyes getting heavy. You snuggle into Lando more. He gets the hint and picks you up, leading you to bed. He plops you under the covers and tries to let go to go to the washroom but you tighten your grip around him. “Lan.”

“Yes bub”

“I’ll come with you.”

You see his face light up through your sleepy eyes, and you see him lean down to place a soft sweet kiss on your lips. Followed by a few kisses all over your face. “I can’t wait to have you there with me, it’ll be perfect. Now go to sleep, I’ll come join you in a few mins.” And that was all you needed to drift into a deep sleep.

He heads out to the kitchen, does the dishes, packs the leftovers, cleans up the couch space and patio. He rolls your suitcase from the guest room to yours and packs the essentials he knows you like to take, leaving the clothes for you to decide tomorrow. Stripping off his shirt into the laundry hamper, he gets into bed, pulls you close into him and falls asleep holding you, with a wide smile on his face, knowing he will get to do this for a few more days while you come with him.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 #formula 1 #lando norris #ln4 #lando x reader

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worldlxvlys · 4 months

Note

bae whenever ur free or feel like it could u write a Chris fluff where like ur stressed out about school and stuff and ur parents are always hard on you about it and he like comforts you and tells you everything’s gonna be okay?

not alone

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: cursing, just fluffy

a/n: ily, hope you enjoy <33

my hands shook against my steering wheel as tears flooded my field of vision.

i tried my best to stop them from obstructing my view, frantically wiping my eyes, but they continued to fall.

“fuck” i cried out between sobs.

i have to stop driving.

i pulled over, putting my car into park and staring out of my windshield.

i wasn’t even able to focus on the road when i was driving. my thoughts were consumed by every assignment that i had due, my next test, working harder, getting better grades. even when i tried to give myself a break, it was always there in the back of my mind.

i could practically hear my parents, “you need to do better” “are you even trying?” “tired? tired from what?” “you need to start taking this more seriously”

i couldn’t help but let my mind be consumed by the negative thoughts.

i picked up my phone, clicking on chris’s contact.

“hello?”

“chris? i really need you” i tried my best not to make it obvious that i had been crying, but my shaky voice gave it away.

“are you crying baby? what’s wrong?”

“just school and everything. but i can’t drive, can you come get me ?” i asked.

there was some talking in the background, presumably chris asking matt if he could give him a ride.

“of course, ma. matt and i are on the way. do you want me to stay on the phone?”

“no it’s ok, we can talk when you get here”

“ok, i love you”

“love you too”

i hung up the phone and rested my head back on my seat, trying to slow my tears.

when they arrived, chris got out of the car and made his way to mine.

when he entered the car, his eyes softened as he took in my current state.

“hi baby” he said as he held his arms out for a hug.

i placed my arms around his shoulders, resting my nose in the crook of his neck.

without warning, the tears started again and my body shook against his.

he soothingly ran his hand up and down my back, whispering into my ear.

“i know, baby. i got you, let it out”

“it’s too much, chris. nothing that i do is ever enough for them” i sobbed into his shoulder.

“hey, you’re doing amazing. i’ve watched you put in so much work, i’m sorry they don’t see that”

i pulled away to look him in the eyes.

“i’m so fucking proud of you” he said as he wiped my tears and cupped my cheek with his hand.

“it may not seem like it now, but you’re gonna get through this. i’m not going anywhere, ok ?”

i nodded in response.

“come here, baby” he said as he opened his arms.

i climbed over the console, sitting on his lap and laying my head on his chest.

he wrapped his arms around me and placed a kiss on my forehead.

“everything’s gonna be ok ma. you don’t have to deal with this by yourself, ok? we’ll figure it out” he said as he gently ran his hand up and down my back.

“thank you, chris” i whispered.

“anything for you, baby”

—————

sorry it’s kinda short, hope you still like it tho <33

masterlist

tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sturnspepsi @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @rheaakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @abbie13sworld @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @sturns-posts @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf

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aii-ki · 22 days

Text

I'm sorry, baby — nrk : Mean ki + angst ✉ wc : 1.4k

Sitting on your boyfriend's bedroom floor holding back tears wasn't entirely how you wanted to spend your Friday night.

This fight was stupid, you both knew it and yet it still happened. Granted of course couples fight, it's just what happens. But never has Riki yelled at you like that, over something that wasn't even your fault.

"Riki please, I'm just trying to figure out what's wrong."

"I get that, but I've already told you it doesn't matter. Why do you always have to be so damn clingy all the time." Anger laced his voice

"It does matter Niki. It matters when it's hurting you."

"Don't call me that damnit." Using his nickname struck a chord with him. He hated it when you used his nickname. It felt more intimate when you called him Riki or Ki. No one else did, everyone else called him Niki so using his real name and not his stage name felt so good, refreshing almost.

He left the room without saying any more, slamming the door harder than he wanted to.

And now you were left alone on his bedroom floor in his chrome hearts hoodie.

You knew he wasn't in the right headspace, he was tired and stressed. You knew that but you couldn't do anything about it until he talked to you, until he said asked you to help. Riki's never been super open about his feelings but you'd always get him to open up eventually. He's never held them back this much before.

Eventually, you decided to check on him. You wanted to follow him originally but thought he needed space so you left him alone.

You opened the door slowly, peeking your head out first. He was sitting on the couch with his legs up and his head in his hands, pressing up against his eyes, his brows were furrowed, almost as if he was crying. TV was so loud, he hadn't noticed the door opening so you continued. Slowly closing the door behind you, walking up to the corner where the hallway and living space meet.

"Ki?" Hoping the use of the sweet nickname would keep him from getting angry again.

He didn't answer but instead just looked up at you, eyes wet, cheeks pink, lips red and puffy. You were right, he was crying.

Crying wasn't something Riki did, the only times you saw him cry was when he was missing his family, or overly stressed, and you were the same. Tears just never came easy for you, it's something you've been ridiculed for. Being called "Cold" or "Emotionless" was something you became used to, but seeing Riki cry made tears well up in your eyes. You choked them back and went to sit next to him.

He didn't spare you a glance, still spacing off.

You felt so bad. A sinking feeling forms in your stomach. You contemplated just leaving but realistically that wouldn't help anything. Instead, you sat there, contemplating what you would say.

"I'm sorry Ki"

"Stop." He still sounded angry, your stomach churning as you frown slightly.

A short silence, then he follows up with "You have nothing to be sorry for." He felt so guilty. He knew it wasn't your fault he feels like shit, it wasn't your fault he was stressed and overworked but he still took it out on you.

"I made you upset though, I didn't mean to I swear" You sounded so defeated, almost like a child after getting scolded. His heart broke into a million pieces hearing you blame yourself for his outburst. "No no this isn't your fault. I promise it's not you" He finally looked at you. His usual blank gaze transformed into what looked like a puppy dog. His eyes were still wet and brows furrowed with worry and guilt.

You looked back at him with tears welling, he didn't understand how he could treat you, the love of his life, the way he did.

After the dreadful silence, you decided you'd just leave. You didn't want to but the pain of seeing him like this was too much, especially when you couldn't help him.

Riki grabbed your arm, with pleading eyes screaming for you not to go, whether he said it or not. "Where are you going?"

"I was gonna give you space."

He sits on the couch properly and hugs your waist. "Please don't go" His voice was wobbly and quiet "Ki..."

"Please, baby. I love you so much and I promise I'll show it properly." You start to run your hands through his hair, massaging the nape of his neck.

"And I'll make it up to you too. It wasn't" He choked on his words "It wasn't right for me to take my stress out on you. You're perfect and you're the only thing that makes me feel right. Please don't leave."

You've never seen him so needy, so clingy. He always clung to you but this is different. He sounded desperate for you. Like he'd die if you walked away "I'm not gonna leave Ki."

He gripped onto your waist tighter "But, I'm your girlfriend Ki. If you're hurting you can tell me... I know work is busy. I know they're overworking you but next just talk to me. Please baby, I love you, and seeing you like this sucks." You move one of your hands to his bicep and start rubbing circles with your thumb, his muscles were sore from dance practice.

"I care about you, and I don't want to fight with you. Especially over this."

"I know, I'll tell you next time. Okay? I'll tell you everything that's going on. I promise" He lifted the sweatshirt you were wearing a little, wearing nothing under, he kissed the side of your stomach.

"Thank you, baby."

He mumbles a small, sleepy "Of course..." while he's still kissing the side of your stomach.

"Let's go to sleep, baby." You say while slightly pushing his head away from your stomach "Mmm okay" He picks you up, burying his head in your neck as he walks to his room.

He lays you down on the bed, laying on top of you, cuddling into you like a little baby. He would never admit it but he loved it when you baby-ied him. Sure in front of the other members, he'd hate it but when you guys are alone and he gets to just be lovey and cheesy, it means so much to him.

"I love you, Ki, so much" When he didn't respond you lifted his hair up to see him just to realize he had already fallen asleep.

Whenever he cries he usually falls asleep in your arms within minutes so this was nothing new.

You kissed his head, while still playing with his hair. You fall asleep in his arms, and at the end of the night, you care for Riki so much and only want the best for him. Fights are going to happen. It's inevitable, but luckily for you, Riki always knew how to make things better, how to make you feel better, he loves you so much, and he'd do anything for you.

The next day after school you walk into the house after Riki walks you home just to see a huge container of Smiski blind boxes and flowers on the counter, with a note saying "I love you, baby :)"

You could never stay mad at him

@ Aii-ki

Note: This was kinda rushed and not proofread... sorryyyy !! Been thinking ab this for awhile so wanted to write it. ALSO Niki kissing your stomach is NOT meant to be taken in a suggestive way at all. It's cute so don't take it weirdly.

#enhypen #enhypen niki #enhypen riki #nishimura riki #niki enhypen #niki #aiiki

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sciencebecameouraddiction · 3 months

Text

You walked down the street and sighed. The hotel had been a bit too much today, with Alastor and Lucifer going at each other’s throats and the lovey gazes Angel and Husk shot each other, and the new residents that were coming in, there wasn’t much more you could take today. So you slipped out and proceeded to take a walk. Looking up at the red sky you smiled, part of you thinking that the sky was much prettier than the sky you were used to when you were alive.

Being someone who died more recently than the other occupants at the hotel, you could still remember the blue sky and the sun that would caress your skin each time you stepped outside during the day. You stopped abruptly and turned on your foot and started to head back to the hotel, almost instinctively not wanting to be too far from the hotel.

After you first found the hotel, you became a sort of assistant to Alastor and Charlie and you cursed the sense of responsibility you felt due to this. The guilt for even leaving the hotel just now was a bit too much, but the walk had done you good. You walk into the hotel, expecting anything but what you see.

Alastor was in his half-demon form, not truly taking up the whole lobby, but at this point, he might as well have. Charlie telling - more screaming at Alastor - to calm down. Somehow, Alastor had gotten Lucifer in his grasp and was about to eat him. You blinked hearing the King of Hell telling Alastor to put him down, with promises that he would be quiet. Alastor just laughed and continued to lower Lucifer to his mouth, everyone partially petrified not thinking Alastor would go this far.

You sigh and walk up to the scene and clear your throat. Alastor and Lucifer both looking at you but your eyes were on Alastor. You could feel the displeasure on your own face and felt the start of a stress migraine. You spoke, not raising your voice whatsoever.

“Why are you trying to eat Lucifer?” You asked Alastor, who slow blinked at you.

“I don’t know! I was just making some adjustments to the interiors and fixing a curtain-“ Lucifer’s voice was cut off when Alastor squeezed him a bit harder. You sighed and closed your eyes for a minute, really reconsidering all the choices that led you here to deal with two children.

“Now, you both are how many years old?” You ask. Alastor starts to answer and you cut him off, not even caring if he were to kill you now. “Too old. Let me tell you that. Too fucking old to be acting like CHILDREN.” You scream the last part. “So, put Lucifer down, Alastor, de-Hulk yourself, and agree to disagree on the decor. This is Lucifer’s hotel Alastor, originally, and Charlie is in charge.” You turn to Charlie who is staring at you wide-eyed.

“Charlie, do you like the decor that your father has created here the yellows and reds with the apples and the-“ Your cut off by a radio scratch.

“TaCKy CirCUs DEcOr?” Alastor says cutting you off.

“Those would not have been my choice of words, but the question still stands, Charlie?” You ask gently.

“No, no, no” She starts, shaking her head, you watch as her eyes widen and she stops. “I mean yes, I love the decor, no, I don’t hate it or think it’s tacky circus decor. It reminds me of my home… but I want everyone to feel comfortable here!” She explains.

“So, then maybe you both can collaborate on decor?” You say looking at them, Alastor still gripping Lucifer tightly. “Maybe taking the golds and reds of the decor you like Lucifer and then intertwining the forest feeling of the decor Alastor likes, giving it a cottage core, Moroccan vibe?” You ask.

“A what now?” Is the only question from Alastor as he peers at you. You assume this means you aren’t dying just yet.   “Cottage core is more forest themed and the Moroccan would incorporate the reds and the golds that I’ve been basing all the designs off of, and with the gold that’s been used all we’d need to do-“ You start to interrupt Lucifer as you see Alastor’s eyes narrowing at his head as he keeps talking.

“All that would need to really be added is more textures, textiles, and some more incorporations of color.” You finish. Alastor regards you for a moment, looks at Charlie, and then drops Lucifer. You sigh in relief as Alastor magically shrinks back down to his regular form.

“I’d rather not work on anything with him, so long as there isn’t any more of this decor for clowns, it will be fine.” He grinds out and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“As our gracious hotelier, we must have you involved in this Alastor, and since Lucifer has such a knack for design and creating things out of thin air, why I think this is a project for all three of us.” You say, a sarcastic tone in your voice, taking a few steps away and heading to your office. “Come now, we need to get a general theme down so Lucifer can start creating.” You stare at both of them expectantly.

“I don’t think you are in any position to be giving orders,” Alastor says and you shrug, realizing this might be the closest to death you may get with the Radio Demon.

“While I may not be above either of you, I am on assignment for the Princess. Is that not right Charlie?” I look at Charlie, pleading with my eyes to follow along. She perks up and rushes toward me.

“Yup! Y/N is here to help! I gave her this task like so long ago!” She says as you stare at her, thinking she couldn’t be more obvious.

“Well, now, you don’t want to disappoint her do you?” You ask Lucifer. “And I truly think that Lucifer may just one up you on design, Al.” Lucifer bristles at that and walks over to you. Alastor blinks and narrows his eyes at you as you use a nickname to refer to him.  “I can do more than one-up him,” Lucifer says fixing his hat.

“Can’t one-up what was lackluster to begin with.” Alastor retorts back.

“C’mon, let’s get the interior of the hotel sorted…” You say walking off with Charlie yelling ‘thank you’ behind us. You shake your head as you pull up your laptop at your desk and start getting to work on the mood board for the hotel. All the while, the bickering between Alastor and Lucifer is the background noise. You smile as you pull up a few images. Being in hell wasn’t all that great all the time, but you couldn’t lie saying you weren’t fond of it.

authors note: it’s been a while since i’ve published ANYTHING… so please be kind.

#hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin lucifer #hazbin alastor #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel

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