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ultimatesmuts · 9 months

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“Is she mine?”🍋🌸

Description:

(Takes place a few years after the war)

Draco has a young daughter he doesn’t know about. One day, he sees YN for the first time since he left (during the war) and he sees YN with a little girl with platinum blonde hair. Naturally, he wonders whether or not he’s the father of the young girl

YN closed her eyes, seeing flashbacks from before the war.

~~~

"I love you so much, YN"

"I love you too, Draco"

"Draco why are you doing this? Why are you leaving?"

"To protect you"

Positive pregnancy test

Missing Draco and wondering if he'll come back

Giving birth

"It's a girl"

"Where's the father?"

"I don't know....."

YN flung her eyes open at the sound of her platinum blond 2 and a half year old daughter, Amelia's voice, bringing her back to reality. She thinks about Draco a lot, she really does still miss him. She's sure he doesn't know about Amelia, and she's losing hope that he ever will.

YN hasn't dated anyone since Draco, even though it's been 3 years since he left for the war and she hasn't heard from him since.

I hope he comes back

I need him

I still love him

"Mummy?"

YN snaps out of her mind again.

"Yes baby?"

"I want this", Amelia says, pointing to a blue, frilly tutu and beaming with happiness

YN giggles at her daughter, but agrees because it would go perfectly with Amelia's(Draco's) eyes.

Oh how she longed to gaze into his eyes again...

Just as she's thinking about him, she almost sees him standing outside the shop, but when she turns to look, nobody is there.

I'm probably just seeing things, after all I was thinking about him.

She continues shopping, when she thinks she sees him again but this time she really thought he was there. She turns to look, but nobody. She grabs Amelia and runs outside onto the streets where she thought she saw him standing, and looks around frantically, hoping the man of her dreams will be there.

With no luck, she tiredly holds Amelia's hand, bringing her into a restaurant across the street from the shop they were in.

Then, she thinks she sees him again. This time, inside the restaurant. However, when she turns around to see, he's not there.

She gloomily turns back to face the table, feeling tears well up in her eyes when she sees a letter sitting directly in front of her.

She notices it's written in his handwriting.

"Is she mine?"

The note reads, sending YN chills

YN covers her mouth in shock, feeling tears heavily streaming down her cheeks, frantically looking around the restaurant for him and nodding her head, holding her heart.

"Yes", she softly says to no one in particular

YN doesn't even order food before grabbing her daughter and leaving the restaurant.

The two of them stand outside on a corner, YN looking around the damp streets hoping, longing for her Draco.

She pulls out a pen and paper, and quickly scribbles,

"Draco, if you find this, please come back. I'm not mad, I just miss you. Please come by this evening, my address is _____________.

Love, YN"

YN lays the paper on a nearby bench, hoping he's still hiding somewhere, watching her before apparating away with her daughter.

Once back inside her house, YN fixes Amelia dinner, too nervous to eat, herself.

7:00 PM

YN watches as Amelia happily finishes eating, and she takes her upstairs to run a bath for her.

She gives Amelia a bath, shampooing her platinum blond toddler hair for her, casts a spell to dry her off, helps her brush her teeth, and looks at the clock again.

8:00 PM

"Okay Amelia, it's time for bed come on", YN tries to sound normal, pretending she's not panicking inside.

Amelia climbs into her bed, pulls the covers up and says, "mummy tuck me in"

YN says, "please?"

Amelia responds quickly with ,"pees"

YN smiles at this, she loves her daughter. If only Draco were here to see this, he would love being a dad.

She tucks Amelia in, reading her Babbity Rabbity, a classic Wizard's tale.

With a light kiss on her forehead, Amelia quickly drifts off into sleep

8:30 PM

YN sighs, wondering if he'll even show. Was she imagining all of this? Was he ever even there at the store earlier? Or did she imagine it all....

She goes downstairs, to wait a bit more on the couch.

9:00 PM

YN looks outside, and just sees the night taking over the land. No Draco, just darkness.

She pours herself a small glass of red wine, and sits back on the couch, feeling herself growing tired.

She zoned out for a while, remembering everything she could about Draco. Oh how she longs for him to show.

10:00 PM

YN finished her glass of wine, and decides that he's probably not coming. Why would he want to come back to her? YN runs all this through her darkening mind, losing more and more self confidence as the clock continues.

10:30 PM

Maybe I'll just run myself a hot bath and try to relax. Maybe it's time I move on from him

YN climbs up the stairs and heads into her large bathroom and over to her massive tub. She sighs, but gets out her rose scented bubble bath, along with setting out several white candles around her bathroom.

11:00 PM

I'm going to go back downstairs to grab the bottle of wine, but first I'll start my water to fill up the tub. She takes a deep breath, and turns on her hot water, adding a very generous amount of rose scented bubble bath into the mixture. She sheds her clothes, and wraps her robe around herself before lighting a couple candles and heading down for the wine.

11:30 PM

As YN starts to climb her stairs again, she thinks she hears a soft knock at her front door.

She freezes, wondering if it could possibly be him, so she turns around and very cautiously opens her door.

There, standing in front of her, is Draco Malfoy.

YN wastes no time throwing herself into him, deeply hugging him and surrounding herself in his comforting scent.

"YN....", Draco says, hugging her back

YN pulls him inside and shuts the door, keeping the cold rain outside.

"Draco", YN breathily says, getting lost in his eyes

Draco takes a step forward, gently using his hand to lift her chin up so she's looking up at him

"I've missed you", he says, his eyes glossy and truthful

YN pulls him in for another tight hug, crying as she says, "I was scared you wouldn't come back"

"I'm sorry", was all that Draco could say. YN could feel that he truly meant it though, breaking her heart

Draco steps away and goes up to a picture of Amelia smiling, causing him to smile too.

"What's her name?", he sweetly asks

"Amelia"

"Amelia", he repeats

"She's beautiful", he adds

YN giggles a bit before saying, "she looks just like you, Malfoy"

He turns slightly, giving YN a slightly challenging but playful look.

Suddenly, YN gasps

"Merlin! I left the bath water running!", she quickly heads up the stairs, Draco close behind.

YN bursts into the bathroom, shutting off the water, luckily it hadn't overflown yet.

Draco slowly walks in to the candlelit bathroom, and he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

"Roses. I love the smell of roses. They remind me of you, YN", he softly says, lovingly gazing into her eyes

YN could feel the aroma and lighting in the bathroom unintentionally setting a certain mood between the two of them, but she wasn't upset about it. If anything, it made her fall even more in love with him.

YN uses her wand to light the remaining candles in the bathroom, Draco watching her every move

"I still love you, YN. I never stopped", Draco softly says out of nowhere

YN turns around to face him, and she walks up to him so that their chests are almost touching, and she whispers, "I still love you too"

These words instantly created some sort of magnetic force, pulling the two's lips towards each other.

YN closes her eyes, feeling fiery butterflies dancing in her stomach

When YN feels his soft lips touch hers, her entire nervous system feels like it's burning hot with desire. Desire for Draco.

He slowly and very softly kisses her, savoring the lovely moment.

Draco goes to pull away, feeling like he's overstepped a boundary, but YN grabs him by his shirt and pulls him right back, this time for a more passionate, longer kiss. Draco pulls YN's body against his own, deepening their kiss, making YN kick the bathroom door shut for some privacy in case Amelia wakes up

The two lock eyes, and realize that both of their gazes are lustful, prompting Draco to slowly untie YN's robe, his eyes never leaving hers

YN feels her robe drop around her feet, leaving her standing completely naked, mesmerizing Draco

YN starts unbuttoning his shirt, until Draco places his hand over hers, stopping her from continuing.

YN looks up at him, confused and hurt.

He probably isn't attracted to me anymore now that I've got a mom bod

YN takes a step back, and reaches for her robe, tears welling in her eyes

"Please don't", Draco whispers as she's turning away

YN turns back towards him, upset

"I have to tell you something first.... And please know that I had to do this to save my family, I didn't just do it willingly.", Draco nervously says

YN doesn't feel upset anymore, now she's just curious.

"Um... when I take my shirt off you're going to see something that will make you want to run. But please, stay and let me explain. Please, YN. Tell me you won't leave when you see it"

YN furrows her brows with concern, but nods her head, whispering "I'll stay"

With that, Draco removes his shirt, and guiltily holds out his forearm for YN to see.

As YN looks down at the dark mark printed into her lover's skin, she doesn't feel fear like she should. Instead, she pulls him in for a hug.

"This is why you left, to protect me", YN softly says, before pulling away and kissing him on the cheek, and mumbling "thank you, and I'm sorry you had to go through that"

Draco's jaw drops hearing this, and he immediately leans in for another passionate kiss.

This time, YN grabs his hand and pulls him towards the bathtub, before letting go and slowly sliding into the hot water herself.

Draco watches in awe, wondering how someone could be so perfect

He carefully drops his pants and boxers before gently climbing in the tub behind YN, wrapping his strong arms around her torso and kissing her neck from behind, emitting a gentle relaxed sigh from YN's lips

YN sits up, grabs the shampoo, and hands it to Draco before dipping her hair in the hot water

Draco takes this as a sign to lather some shampoo in his hands and he sensually massages it into YN's scalp, relaxing her. She leans back to rinse it out, and Draco applies conditioner throughout her hair, loving how soft her hair feels.

After rinsing, YN turns around so that she's facing Draco, and he can't help but allow his eyes to drift down and land on her round breasts. He takes a moment to admire her erect nipples, growing hard at the fact that her breasts have almost doubled in size due to pregnancy and the associated weight gain.

YN notices him staring, so she purposely sits up to reach up and shampoo his hair, giving him a full view of her breasts right in front of him.

After shampooing and conditioning his hair, YN hands Draco the coconut shower gel, and sticks her chest out expectingly, biting her lip

Draco's pupils dilate to where his eyes appear black, and he slowly applies some soap in his hands, lathering it up.

YN feels herself becoming aroused and excited, lightly shimmying her chest for Draco's pleasure

Draco places both hands above her breasts, and teasingly washes everywhere around them before finally allowing his hands to knead her plump breasts. YN let's out a sharp gasp at this, clearly enjoying Draco.

He purposely circles around her nipples, denying her the feeling of him pinching them.

Suddenly, Draco gently pushes YN back so she's leaning against the other end of the tub, facing him. He leans forward and sensually runs his hands up and down her body, gliding directly over her nipples, causing her to let out an involuntary moan.

Draco then allows his hands to slide lower and lower down her body, to where he's tracing small circles on her hips, making YN more than desperate at this point.

YN leans forward again, but this time she lifts her body so that she's sitting on Draco's lap.

Draco groans at the feeling of her warm, thick thigh resting on his painfully hard cock.

YN squeezes some body soap into her hands and begins rubbing it around Draco's chest, shoulders and neck. She scoots back off of his lap, leaning in closer to run her hands up and down his toned abs, tracing his V-line and getting dangerously close to his cock.

YN leans back and unplugs the drain, allowing the soapy water to retreat and slowly revealing more and more of each other's bodies.

YN stands up, and Draco watches in admiration as the water drips down and off of her curvy figure.

YN steps out of the tub, and bends over to get towels, making Draco stand up with the need to immediately caress her ass. He places one hand on each cheek, rubbing circles and grabbing handfuls before letting go to watch her plump bottom bounce back and forth.

YN feels wet, but not from the bath as she hands Draco a towel, quickly drying herself a bit.

YN then quietly opens the other door in her bathroom, revealing her bedroom. She quickly casts a few spells, moving the candles from the bathroom into the bedroom, keeping the low lighting and keeping the mood.

Draco watches YN as she walks to her bed, and he begins stroking his cock at the sight of her plump ass sitting perfectly on top of her thick thighs. She turns around to sit on her bed, and rubs her thighs together at the sight of Draco stroking himself.

Draco slowly walks towards YN, his hard dick standing proud and tall, leaking with precum.

YN pulls his arm, until he's laying on the bed next to her. She sits up, kitten licks his tip, causing him to throw his head back at the sensitivity, and asks, "do you want me baby" to which Draco replies with a whimper that sounded like a "yes"

YN straddles her lover, running his cock up and down her vulva to lube him up, causing them both to moan.

"Muffliato", YN casts, knowing what's to come

She slowly sinks down onto his dick, both moaning at the euphoric sensation. Once he's all the way in, they both gaze into each other's eyes, catching their breaths.

YN starts rocking back and forth on his cock, at a painfully slow pace, causing Draco to growl in painful pleasure

Draco reaches up and grabs handfuls of her tits, saying, "I fucking love you and your body"

YN starts to grow tired, so she slows down and Draco gets the message and flips them over so he's on top.

"Fuck, baby I can't keep myself off of you", he says, slowly kissing down her soft stomach towards her heat, causing her to moan in anticipation

Once Draco is at his desired location, he uses his arms to hold YN's legs apart, giving him full access to her glistening pussy

Without wasting any time, Draco dives right in, sucking on her sensitive bud, making YN scream his name

"DRACO OH MY GOD", she says, instinctively propping herself up on her elbows, already feeling her toes go numb

As Draco continues, YN closes her eyes and focuses on the pressure building inside of her.

But right when it starts really building, Draco pulls away, connecting his lips with hers, making her taste herself.

As the two are lost in their passionate kisses, YN starts trying to grind herself up against Draco's member

Draco pulls away from the kiss to insert his cock, bottoming out in her, causing her to beg him to move.

Draco starts thrusting in and out of her tight cunt, causing tears to roll down YN's face at the pleasure.

YN starts writhing underneath him, clearly approaching her high. Draco reaches down and pinches her clit, causing YN to grab onto Draco's shoulders for support as he pounds into her, hitting that one spot over and over and over until she's clenching around him hard, making him spill all of his seed deep inside her quivering pussy, screaming as she rides out her high, milking him dry in the process.

They both still and try and catch their breaths, Draco slowly pulling out, YN wincing at the loss of contact.

Draco lays down next to her, exhausted. "You okay, YN?"

"That was amazing, Draco."

Draco lightly smiles at this, rolling over to sweetly kiss her lips, reminding her of how perfect she is

Draco then kisses YN's tummy, and says, "if there's a baby in there now, daddy promises to be here with mommy and Amelia, every step of the way. Also, please be a boy this time."

YN chuckles in disbelief, and says, "you know we still have to introduce you to Amelia tomorrow"

Draco says, "what are we going to say?"

YN replies, "I don't know Dray, we'll figure it out in the morning. I'm exhausted."

And just like that, Draco hears YN's soft snoring, the cutest sound in the world, according to him.

The end (of this one shot)

;)

#dracomalfoy #draco #malfoy #dracosmut #dracoxreader #draco fluff #draco smut #draco x reader #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x reader #draco x you #harry potter

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russellsppttemplates · 4 months

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I think we're both sick right now 😭 I'm in need of some distraction, so maybe a george x reader with food poisoning? 😅 I'm projecting lol, hope you feel better soon!

Note: we're sickness buddies! Although I should say I'd prefer neither of us was one 😅 thank you for your well wishes, I hope you feel better soon!

Cw: food poisoning symptoms (vomiting, fever)

"That's alright, darling, I'm here", George said as he tried to soothe you as you poured your guts out into the toilet, "I'm exhausted", you groaned, accepting the towell to wipe your mouth before getting up with his help, going over to the sink to brush your teeth.

For the past two days, you had been struggling, to say the least. When you went out for dinner, you must've had something that didn't settle well with your stomach. Because of that, you hadn't been able to eat much, let alone do much either. Fortunately, the fever had broken down last night.

"Hey, are you alive over there?", George chuckled, peaking his head in the room as he opened the door, "Is that a trick question?", you asked from the bed, "I managed to eat the crackers forty minutes ago, and they haven't come up yet", you showed him a thumbs up.

Walking in and sitting on the bed next to you, your boyfriend checked your temperature, his fingers moving away sweaty flyaways from your forehead, "seems you're out of a fever, that's good, darling", he checked, "and it's beggining to get better".

"Better is a spectrum, and I feel I'm somewhere on the far end from it. Still, it's progress", you shrugged, cuddling up to him as he rubbed your back, "you much prefer to rub my back like this rather than when I'm bent over the toilet, right?", you teased, "I prefer this, but I don't mind helping you, gorgeous, I just want you to feel better.

"I also made you some soup, it's very plain and simple, but hopefully it will settle your tummy", he said, "whenever you feel ready, we'll go and eat it", he smiled down as he noticed you were falling asleep, "rest up, darling", kissing the top of your head.

(Thank you for your submission ✨️)

#george russell blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

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bookshelf-dust · 1 year

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Can I request a Gareth x reader where the reader who isn't that good with food and often forgets to eat or doesn’t eat enough?

think you can let me do that?

gareth emerson x gn!reader

word count: 952

warnings: just like the request said. swearing, reader has anxiety and tummy correlating problems. reader has poor relationship with food. maybe skip this one if it’s triggering <3 kind of shy!reader too a little bit? just kinda went everywhere and tried to find a way. reader likes stickers!!

a/n: sure you can!! thank you for your request my sweet! sorry it took me a little while. i tried to do my very best based on my own experiences and the situation in general. i really hope you like it anon! <333 (also pls look at his ring on his thumb in this gif but in another shot it’s on his middle. i love him. fidgety baby. also his arms look yummy. okay i’m done i swear)

————

Gareth noticed your hands shaking before you did, apparently used to the feeling.

You thought it was from the pre-exam jitters. He thought otherwise.

“Did you eat this morning?”

Huh. That was a good question. You thought about it, remembering brushing your teeth, reading over your notes one last time, putting your coat on. No breakfast.

You turned to look at him, blue eyes boring into yours. You shook your head.

Gareth sighed, but there was no malice in it. He knew how you could get. You worry yourself sick, forget to eat, or just can’t because your stomach is in knots. Sometimes you get preoccupied and it completely slips your mind, and when you do eat, it’s something inadequate or you don’t finish your meal—buzzing with anxiety instead.

“That’s okay. Since your test is out of the way, and I’m sure you fucking aced it, can I buy you lunch, maybe?”

“Sure, Gare.”

“Anything you want.”

You let Gareth pick out your lunch, and he went for something that wouldn’t upset your tummy, that wouldn’t stop you from eating half way through. Something that felt easy.

He’d gotten very good at that lately. He knew it wasn’t your fault and he wanted to help you as best as he could. He just wanted you happy and safe and healthy.

But it was finals week. And you were worried sick despite the copious amount of studying you were doing, knowing you were going to do your damn best. And it wouldn’t stop until exams were over.

When you ate that night, it was like your food wasn’t nearly as good as it used to be, and all you could think about was how you had other stuff to do. So you abandoned more of your pizza than you should’ve, shoving your nose back in your books.

The problem was, it wasn’t always just because of exams. You worried about every little thing. This and that. Minor things. And lately eating just seemed like an afterthought—this thing you needed to do but would get around to if you had time.

You forgot breakfast the next morning and then lunch. But when Gareth came over for dinner, he saw it in your face immediately, and decided to breach the topic as carefully as he could.

He was worried about you. Worried about his baby.

You stared down at the sticker pack he’d brought you, bending the paper and peeling back a very particular Scooby-Doo and pasting it onto your very plain folder.

Gareth reached out, tapping his fingers on the table in front of you. You raised your head.

“Hi,” you said, voice soft.

“Hi, sweet thing.” His hand found your cheek, his touch gentle and calming. “I want to help you, okay? Think you can let me do that?”

He didn’t need to lay it out for you. You were well aware he knew about your habits and was doing his best to let you try and work things out before pushing. Before prying.

But you wanted that little push. You knew he would help you. That’s all he ever wanted to do.

“Okay.”

Gareth’s face split in a grin, brows pinching together, puppy dog eyes in full bloom looking at you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, Gare. What did you have in mind?”

He moved his hand, laying his palm face up the way you liked for him to do, allowing you to draw shapes and patterns, rub over the callouses here and there.

“I was thinking we get you a little notebook or maybe a small chalkboard. Something where you can write down reminders, reminding you to get a snack or eat some lunch.” His other thumb brushed over your eyebrow.

You nodded at him, thinking that could be helpful, and a little silly for not considering it before.

“And I know sometimes your tummy doesn’t want a whole lot, and sometimes you don’t eat all of your food, so we could find you a couple things your comfortable with—like in quantity—stuff you don’t have to worry about.”

“I don’t want you to have to worry about eating too. You shouldn’t have to. I think comfort foods could work, at least for right now, just to get you on a regular schedule.”

His eyes roved all over your face, scanning for any hint that he might’ve upset you.

“Yeah. Thank you. You promise you’ll help me, Gare?”

“Of course I will. We can do this together. Just want you taken care of, you know that right? You deserve to have a well-taken-care-of tummy. I’ll do anything I can to help ease that sweet mind of yours.”

You nodded again, seeing as your words had evaded you.

Gareth leaned across the table, kissed your forehead, the crease between your brows, your nose and chin. He glanced down, catching a sticker with Scooby and Shaggy holding enormous stacks of sandwiches. His ring-clad finger tapped the shimmery paper. “That one.” You placed it on your folder.

And he did help you. More than you thought possible. The first full week you’d gone without forgetting a meal, he bought you more stickers and kissed you silly, muttering how proud he was of you. Maybe your portions weren’t huge, but you were finishing all of it and you hadn’t forgotten breakfast in forever.

Gareth was the best helper in the world. You told him as much, only for him to blush madly and plant his forehead on your chest, curls tickling your jaw.

“You’re my star. My trooper. Best baby in the whole world,” he said the words into your skin, still pressed against you, but you could feel his grin at his own cheesiness. You appreciated every sentiment.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

#gareth emerson #gareth emerson x reader #gareth emerson x you #gareth emerson x gn!reader #corroded coffin #stranger things fic #stranger things 4 #gareth emerson fic #gareth stranger things #gareth emerson fanfic #gareth the great #gareth emerson comfort #savannah’s fics

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davinaswrittendiary · 5 months

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Different forms of self care

Emotional and physical self care go hand in hand. When your body feels good your emotions tend to feel better. When your emotions are met your body is more than likely being taken care of and well rested. There are multiple ways to care for yourself but the overall it’s about making sure your needs are met.

If you aren’t sure what you need I recommend closing your eyes and just sitting in silence as you pay attention to your mind and body.

1. Make sure you’re sleeping enough. I recommend sleeping more than 6 hours if you can. I try to go to sleep by at least 9 at the latest. Personally I do better when I wake up early as I’m more productive and can do more with my day and take care of myself easier. I’ve been trying to go to sleep at 8pm and wake up at 6am so I get 10 hours of rest.

2. Make sure you’re eating right and well hydrated. Most of the time when we don’t feel well, whether it’s being dizzy, having a headache or some other problem it’s because we need food or water. Drink water whenever you feel thirsty and if you have problems with being aware of when you need water I recommend setting a timer to remind you to drink water. It’s also easier if you have a water bottle or glass of water near you at all times. Now you don’t HAVE to eat healthy. You can still eat junk food if you want but I mainly recommend paying attention to how you FEEL after eating something. If you feel gross or your body seems to reject the food then I wouldn’t eat that thing again. For example you might eat a lot of cookies but always have a stomachache after and it’s because it’s just not right for your body.

3. Exercise is so important. And it’s understandable if you don’t enjoy it but find some form of movement that you like! You could swim, dance, go on a walk or go to the gym if that’s what you enjoy! But make sure not to push your body too much. If you begin feeling really exhausted or thirsty make sure to tend to that.

4. Hygiene is also really important. Make sure you’re brushing your teeth. If you don’t do it in the morning you should prioritize brushing after eating dinner. If you don’t brush your teeth after dinner you’ll wake up with a gross feeling mouth because of bacteria. If you struggle with gross breath make sure you’re brushing your tongue! Try and get as much of that white stuff off! I don’t personally floss but it’s definitely important and I’m trying to get back into it lol. Mouthwash is great! And I’ve heard a lot of good stuff about oil pulling but I haven’t tried it yet!

Showers are also very important to your hygiene. Make sure you’re using the right shampoo and conditioner for your hair type! And please do research on the shampoo you’re buying as a lot of cheap shampoo is actually really bad for your hair. Same goes for body wash, make sure you’re using the right stuff for your skin type and something that actually makes you feel clean. You should ALWAYS have an antibacterial soap or body wash, NOT scented. If you’re female you can use it to wash up downstairs but DON’T put it up there, your 😺 is naturally self cleaning but you can wash the skin around it. Then after using an antibacterial soap or body wash you could have a scented soap or body wash! You need to actually be clean before adding scent to your body. Make sure not to wash downstairs with anything scented! Also please make sure you’re washing your legs and feet. I know some people think it’s not necessary but it is. Don’t wash with just your hands as that isn’t deep enough. You could use a washcloth, loofah, an African sponge net or something else, just make sure to wash it regularly or replace it regularly.

For skincare I definitely recommend seeing a doctor if you can! If you can’t then make little notes about your skin and do research about your skin type. You honestly don’t need to go all out and I heavily recommend using natural stuff instead of products that are chemicals. Korean skincare products seem to do a really good job so you could look into those! There’s so many different skincare routines but all you really need is cleanser, toner, moisturizer and SUNSCREEN. Also make sure you’re washing your face for at least 60 seconds because you need to actually work it into the skin for it to work. Also rose water toner is so good!

5. Do things that you enjoy doing. It could be as simple as watching a movie, getting your favorite food or drink, listening to music or it could be more in depth where you set aside a time to pamper yourself with skincare and a bath, you could take yourself on a date to your favorite place, take a class on your favorite hobby or just indulge in it at home. Doing things that you enjoy is very rewarding to your mind.

6. Try to stay off your phone and social media as much as possible. I know that there is currently a genocide happening in Palestine and my heart goes out to all those who are hurt. But the saying that you can’t help others until you help yourself is VERY true. If you’re in a bad mental state you can’t help other people who are struggling as well as you could if you were in a good state. Make time to care for yourself since you’re the only person in your life that will always be there. You’ve had yourself for your whole life. Taking care of yourself is not selfish especially when the world around you may not be what you want it to be. Once you’re in a good state you can help. Anyways my point is that staying off your phone and social media is super important because there’s a lot of dark things online. There’s also a lot of addicting things such as scrolling on socials. The best way to take care of yourself is to separate from it.

I hope this post helps those who need it <3 My masterlist

#loassumption #loa tumblr #loa blog #law of assumption #self love #positive mental attitude #affirmations #advice #self improvement #self concept #self care #manifesting #mental health #manifesation #wellbeing #wellness

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graceful-starker · 2 years

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He’s Not My Boyfriend (Redo)

Summary: Peter Parker has been dating Tony Stark for over a month now...Right?

Warnings: Angst is it really.

Notes: This was voted to be redone, because people were not happy with how it came out; but they liked the prompt! So, same basic idea, but redone to be better hopefully.

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Peter hums happily to himself as he gets ready, combing his hair and putting on cologne. It’s Thursday night, which means it’s date night. He and Tony always curl up on the penthouse couch, watch a movie, and eat popcorn.

They’ve been on other dates, of course; Tony has taken him to all kinds of restaurants, and he even bought Peter a fancy suit for them. He’s always giving things to Peter now, actually.

They started flirting when Peter turned 18; well okay, Tony started flirting when Peter turned 18. Peter had started flirting way before then. But they had only started actually dating a month ago. One day, Tony just asked Peter to dinner, and then one thing turned into another, and boom: it’s been a month.

Tony has been taking it very slow, much to Peter’s annoyance. Peter leans in for a kiss, and Tony kisses his cheek or his hair. Peter tries to move his hand up Tony’s thigh, and the older man shifts so his hand falls back down.

It’s annoying, because Peter really just wants to move things along. He knows Tony is doing it for Peter’s own benefit, but Peter is ready!

Tonight, Peter is planning on flat out asking for a kiss.

He checks his breath one more time--decides to brush his teeth one more time--and heads out to the tower.

When he gets there, he sees Tony isn’t. He checks his phone and Tony had sent him a ‘are we still on for tonight?’ text. He responds ‘I’m already here!’ with a heart emoji, and sits on the couch.

His phone dings again, and Tony has sent ‘Okay, I’ll be up in a sec. In the lab.’

Peter’s eyes light up--he’s had many wet dreams about getting railed on Tony’s lab desk. Why not push things to the next level in there?

He heads on down, a skip in his step, as he imagines how their first time will be. He won’t have to imagine anymore after this!

He opens the door to the lab and walks down the stairs, being quiet so he can surprise Tony. But then he hears a voice--the least expected voice Peter would have ever thought of.

“Tony, you have to listen to me. I’m being serious!” It’s Steve’s voice. This is unexpected for many reasons; Tony hates Steve, ever since Steve left Tony for Bucky. This is another reason it’s unexpected; why is Tony talking to an ex on their date night? And why would Tony not tell Peter Steve was there?

“No, Steve, that’s where you’re wrong. I don’t have to listen to you, not about anything, and especially not my love life!” Peter sneaks a bit more down the stairs, and looks out at the scene. Tony is standing facing Steve, back to the entryway. Steve is facing the door, but he only has eyes for Tony.

“I’m still the leader of the team, Tony, you need to listen to me. It’s not just about your personal life, it affects the team!” Steve shakes his head in anger.

Tony scoffs. “It’s none of your business what Peter and I do together, not only as my ex but as the leader.”

Peter’s heart warms a little at that, and he peeks out a bit further. Steve, however, seems to get more irritated. “It is my business, especially when it’s affecting the rest of the team!”

“How could something like that possibly interfere with the team?” Tony asks, sarcasm dripping from his tongue. “No one says a god damn word when you cheat on me with another team member, but the mere whisper of me and Peter throws the whole team off? You’re delusional.”

Steve scoffs, obviously offended. “He’s messing up! He’s missing easy shots, and people keep having to stop what they’re doing to save him. Natasha almost broke her arm stopping one of Doom’s drones from taking Peter’s head off because he was too busy looking at you!”

Peter winces, slinking back a bit. Tony only scoffs. “Sure he is. You know why I don’t believe you, Captain?” he spits, venom dripping from his tone. “Because me and Peter aren’t even dating. He’s not my boyfriend. Nothing at all has changed since we brought him on all those years ago. I don’t know what you think you’re seeing, but it isn’t there.”

Peter feels his chest tighten, and he steps forward to say something. But Steve beats him to it. “Everyone on the team sees it. I have gotten so many complaints about him that I’ve lost count. And all of it centers around the fact that he is very clearly in love with you! You can control yourself and your feelings, that’s been proven already. But he hasn’t. So you have to get him under control!”

Multiple complaints? From everyone? Peter almost chokes, trying to rush to show that he’s there. “He isn’t stupid, unlike you. He knows we aren’t dating. And even if we were, even if he was messing up in the field, why wouldn’t you talk to him instead of me? Listen Cap, I don’t really care if there’s trouble in paradise with you and Bucky, but I’m not taking you back. No excuse needed, I just don’t want you.”

Steve squares his jaw, backing Tony up into the work desk. Peter sees Tony’s breath hitch. “He thinks you’re dating, Tony. Everyone on the team thinks you’re dating. I’m not trying to play any games here, I’m being serious.”

Tony leans away from Steve as much as he can, shaking his head. “Well they’re all wrong. He isn’t my boyfriend, we haven’t done anything at all to suggest we are!”

“You take him on dates-”

“I take everyone I like out to dinners, that isn’t special.”

“You have date nights, just the two of you. You didn’t even do that for me, when I was-”

“I actually like the kid, he’s funny and doesn’t make me feel like I’m a burden all the time.” Tony puts a hand on Steve’s chest to stop him from coming any closer.

“You’re dating, Tony! Everyone knows it. Control him, or dump him. I’m not risking my teams’ lives over a love sick puppy.” Steve steps back, eyes angry.

“No, not everyone knows it. You’ve made this up in your head and you’ve decided it’s true when it isn’t! I’ll bet anything no one else has even complained, it’s just you pulling it out of your ass to make a non-existent point. No one else on the team is stupid enough to think I’d date Peter!”

Peter feels tears in his eyes at the last words, feeling them cut to the bone. He bolts back up the stairs, no longer caring that he was being loud and obvious. He doesn’t want to hear anymore, can’t hear anymore.

He hears Tony curse at the bottom of the stairs, but he just keeps going. Out the locked doors, out the hallway, out the building. He knows he looks stupid, running as fast and as hard as he is on the busy streets of New York, but he doesn’t really care anymore.

Tony didn’t just say he wasn’t dating Peter. He said no one was stupid enough to think Tony would date Peter. Would. As if the mere idea of Tony stooping low enough to date Peter was stupid.

Peter ducks into an alleyway, crouching behind a dumpster and sobbing. He claws at his chest, trying to get air into his lungs by any means necessary. This feels a lot like a panic attack, but he isn’t 100% sure. He slams his head into the wall behind him, feeling the pain bloom. It colors his vision, and he closes his eyes to fight the urge to throw up.

His phone is buzzing non-stop in his pocket, but he can’t bring himself to look at it. He’s completely humiliated. How can he ever look Tony in the eye again? Or Steve? How can he ever go on a mission again knowing that their leader thinks he’s incapable? And if Steve wasn’t lying like Tony believed, what if the whole team thought Peter was immature, easily distracted, a liability?

The whole team, in the very least, definitely thinks he’s stupid, after that. Tony made it clear he thinks Peter is stupid, and if the smartest man on the team thinks he’s stupid, the rest will follow.

He puts his head in his hands, trying to control his breathing. He still has a sob escape every couple of minutes, but he’s mostly gotten himself under control by the time he stands again.

He looks at his reflection in a darkened window in the alley, and feels disgusted with himself. His entire face is red and splotchy, from running and crying both, probably. His hair is a sweaty and tangled mess, his eyes are red and puffy, and his nose is rubbed raw.

He looks pathetic. Disgusting. He looks like someone who deserves to be humiliated in front of his coworkers and boss.

He sniffles again, still feeling silent tears run down his face. He’s able to walk the rest of the way to his apartment with May, instead of running like a maniac. He keeps his head down low, mostly using his spidey-sense to avoid walking into people.

He finally gets home, and May is there, watching TV. She hears the door open, but doesn’t look. “Hey Petey, you’re home early! Do you-oh no, what happened?”

Peter sniffles grossly, and it makes him cringe inside. He looks at her, looking as pathetic as he feels, and can’t even force a sad smile. His lower lip just trembles, and his breath shakes as he fights the urge to cry again. “Can we talk about it later, please? I just want to be alone.”

May nods, standing up awkwardly and fidgeting her hands. “Of course. I’m always here if you need me, baby,” she promises.

Peter nods gratefully, and goes to lock himself in his room. He pulls out his phone and realizes it’s stopped buzzing. He checks the missed calls and sees that Tony called him no less than 34 times, and sent 15 messages all composed of single or double worded texts. Kid. Come back. Answer me. Answer. Kid. Peter! and so on.

He also has 3 missed calls from Steve, and a very long text that he doesn’t plan on reading. He throws his phone on the desk after turning it on do not disturb, and flops down on his bed. He doesn’t feel like crying anymore, but he can’t help but torture himself. He thinks about how Tony must think he’s the stupidest person on the planet. How his boss threatened to kick him off the team if he kept making so many mistakes. How his friends and coworkers probably don’t trust him anymore, and definitely think he's an idiot.

He thinks that the thing that hurts him the most is that his entire relationship with Tony is made up. He made it up in his head. All of it. All the looks he thought Tony was giving him, they weren’t flirty or full of lust. All the times he cuddled up to Tony, were they even wanted? Did he just force affection on Tony when the older man didn’t want it?

How delusional is he that he made up a whole relationship? For a month--and god knows how long, if he hadn’t been slapped so harshly by reality.

He’s about to roll over and go to bed, when he hears a knock on the door. He hears May get up, pausing the TV, and open the door. “Happy! Uh...I um, what are you doing here?” she laughs uncomfortably.

“I’m here to pick up the kid. It’s urgent, boss needs him ASAP.”

“Oh,” she sounds a little relieved, and Peter wonders what’s going on there. “Oh, he’s um...unavailable.”

“It’s urgent,” Happy insists, and Peter can hear him shift his weight. “Can’t wait.”

May hesitates. “Well, he’s in no state to do any missions or whatever. Tell Mr. Stark he’ll have to do this one without Peter.”

Happy sighs. “I’m sorry May, I really need Peter to come with me. I’m under orders not to return until I have him.”

May seems to get angry at this. “I am his guardian, I decide where he can and cannot go. Tony knows this, it’s our agreement. He can’t go on this mission. That’s final.”

“He’s 18, May. You can’t-”

“Thank you Happy, have a good night.” She shuts the door loudly, and huffs in annoyance. “Can’t control him my ass, honestly!”

Peter cracks a smile at the image of May shaking her head in disbelief, mumbling to herself as she gets on the couch.

There is another knock on the door, and he hears May huff in annoyance. “Go away, Happy!” she yells. The knocking doesn’t stop though, so May gets up again and yanks the door open. “Happy, I said-oh. Mr. Stark, hello.”

Peter curls up on himself, closing his eyes tightly. When will this nightmare end?

“Heya May, hope you’re well. I’m just going to go get Peter-”

May laughs at that, and Peter can hear the anger in her voice. “No, you aren’t. You aren’t allowed in my apartment right now, and you certainly aren’t allowed in his room.”

It’s quiet for a moment, and Peter imagines the look on Tony’s face at being told no. “It’s very important, May.”

“I’m sure it is, but you can’t take him right now. He’s unavailable. Find someone else.” May says confidently.

“I’m not leaving until I see him,” Tony says, an edge to his voice.

May scoffs. “Then you’ll be standing in this hallway all night. Good night, Mr. Stark.” and she closes the door again.

Peter whimpers softly, weighing the pros and cons of getting out of this bed and going to see Tony. Finally, he decides that he just wants to get it over with. He knows he’s going to have to see Tony eventually, and it might as well be now.

He walks into the living room, seeing May on the couch, looking furious. “May?”

May looks up, and a smile finds its way onto her face. “Peter, hi. Mr. Stark needs you, but I told him to go away for you.”

Peter smiles back and walks over, kissing her hair softly. “Thanks, May. I’ll talk to him so he’ll go away.”

May looks skeptical, but nods finally. “I’ll be in my room, I’ll put headphones on. Don’t leave without saying anything.”

Peter promises, and watches her go to her room. He waits a couple minutes to be sure she’s started using headphones, and opens the door. Tony and Happy had been arguing adamantly, but they fall silent when Peter opens the door.

Peter knows he still looks pathetic, but he doesn’t really care anymore. He just wants to get this humiliation over with already. Chalk it up to one bad day, instead of drawing it out. “Mr. Stark,” he greets formally, something he hasn’t done in over a year.

“Go wait in the car, Hap,” Tony says, taking Peter in. Happy leaves, and Tony stares for a moment. “Can I come in?”

“Can’t this be quick?” Peter asks, and his voice comes out weaker than he wanted it to. “Just get it over with, please?”

Tony’s lips thin into a line. Then he sighs, rubs a hand over his face. “Let me in.”

Peter finally steps out of the doorway, shutting it behind Tony. Tony sits on the couch, inviting himself. Peter remains standing by the closed door. “Okay, you’re in. Now what?”

Tony fidgets a bit, messing with his clothes. He looks at Peter, but just slightly to the left, not making eye contact exactly. “Come sit.”

“No.” Peter says, crossing his arms over his chest. “What is so important you harassed my aunt about it?”

“That’s a strong word,” Tony deflects.

“What do you want, Mr. Stark?” Peter says instead.

Tony winces at the name. “Don’t call me that, you haven’t called me that in-”

“Can you please just get this over with?” Peter interrupts, already tearing up again. “Haven’t you humiliated me enough already?”

“Peter,” Tony says, and he sounds so sad. “I didn’t mean to.”

Peter shrugs. “I got that. You didn't think I was that stupid. I can understand how disappointing this must be for you.”

Tony works his jaw. “That is not what I meant. I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“You do,” Peter says, and his voice breaks. “And I was. I was stupid. To think Tony Stark ever would date someone-date me. To think you would stoop so low, I was stupid.”

“Don’t-don’t put words in my mouth, I never said-”

“You said exactly that. You said ‘no one else on the team is stupid enough to think you would date me’. Isn’t that word for word what you said?”

“You...” Tony stutters, upset. “You are taking words out of context!”

Peter sobs, and the guilt on Tony’s face only makes Peter feel worse. “What does it mean in context, then, Mr. Stark? Because you kept going on and on to my boss that you weren’t dating me, that you would never date me, that anyone who thought you would date me is stupid. Isn’t it?” Peter’s voice is raw and his throat hurts from trying to talk instead of crying.

Tony stands now, his own expression contorting in pain. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Peter.”

That isn’t an answer. Peter hiccups a breath in and then sobs, finally looking down. “Fine, you didn’t mean for me to hear you humiliating me. That was supposed to stay behind my back. That makes me feel so much better, Mr. Stark. Glad we had this chat.”

“Stop twisting my words!” Tony yells, taking a step closer.

Peter takes a step back in retaliation, back hitting the door. “I’m not twisting anything. Please just go.”

“You are! You’re making me sound like I’m a bad guy, like I did something wrong.” Tony steps closer again, and this time Peter has no where to back up to.

Peter shakes his head. “You humiliated me.”

“I wasn’t trying to!” Tony yells, getting in Peter’s face. “Steve cornered me, he was grilling me and I needed him to get off my back.”

“I’m in love with you,” Peter whispers, voice not able to take much more. He looks up at Tony through wet lashes, and sees the disgust there. How did he not see it before? “I’m trying to process that everything I thought we had was all in my head, that the last month meant nothing to you when it meant everything to me. I’m trying to process that my boss is threatening to kick me out because I’m so stupid around you I put everyone else in danger. I’m trying to process the fact that my teammates, my friends, all know I’m an idiot now, all think I’m a danger to the team. And-” his voice breaks, and he clears his throat to start over. “And I’m trying to understand how you could sit there and listen to Steve say all of that, and the only thing you needed to defend was that you would never date me.”

Tony takes a step back, his own breath gasping. “That isn’t fair,” he says back, shaking his head.

Peter shakes his head, trying to deny what’s right in front of him. “You still won’t defend me. You still won’t correct me. You just say I’m twisting your words or I’m not being fair. What is fair, then? What are you actually saying that I’m not getting? Say it now, say what you mean Mr. Stark.”

Tony is silent, jaw working in anger. “It isn’t fair to pin all of that on me. I never led you on, I never did anything to make you think-”

Peter scoffs again, looking down at his feet as another fat tear rolls down his face. “I got it, Mr. Stark. I’m stupid. I made it all up in my head, I already said that. If you don’t have anything else to say-”

Peter gasps as his jaw is lifted roughly, and Tony’s lips are crashing against his. Peter is so confused, so hurt by the situation, that he can’t even enjoy the fact that he and Tony are having their first kiss. Peter goes limp, not fighting it but not reciprocating either. Tony picks up on the lack of enthusiasm and pulls back, obviously frustrated.

“What was that?” Peter asks, voice monotone. He can’t even look at Tony.

“I’m trying to show you what I mean. I can’t-I’m not good at emotions or talking or-but-please, I need you to understand.” Tony hasn’t let go of Peter’s jaw.

“Understand what?” Peter asks, blinking away more tears. “You’re hurting me.”

Tony’s grip slackens, but he doesn’t let go. “I want you, Peter. I was scared. I was scared what they would say, if they knew I wanted you. But I just--I don’t care anymore. Because you’re right--I was more concerned with my own reputation, I was so wrapped up in the accusations, that I let things slide I never would have before. I never would have let him say those things about you. Let him lie about you, just to get to me, get in my head. I was wrong. I know it’s a lame apology and I’m bad at words but I am. I am sorry, and I...I needed you to know that. That I was wrong to say those things, and let Steve say those things. I’m sorry.”

Peter feels the dangerous hope start to swell in his heart, and he needs this to be what he thinks Tony is doing. “You mean that?”

Tony nods. “No one thinks you’re stupid, or that you mess up on missions, or-or anything like that. Steve was jealous, and he thought he could get to me by saying those things. He never talked to any of the other members, never had any complaints. He never would have said those things if he knew you would hear them. He was being unprofessional and immature, and I fell for it. That’s on me. Please Peter, I need you to know that no one thinks bad things about you.”

Peter is still confused, and still skeptical. But he sniffles grossly, and leans up just a bit to connect their lips together again. It might be a mistake, but he can deal with that tomorrow. For now, he just wants to take comfort in the fact that Tony does want him.

The rest can wait.

#starker #tony stark #peter parker #My writing #Gracie's New Years Resolution #fanfic #redo fic

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imagine-you · 2 years

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Living As Foes (4/11) [Eddie Munson/Reader]

Summary: It only takes you one week to realize Eddie Munson hates you. It only takes you one year to fall in love with him. Go figure.

Word Count: 3.5k

Author's Note: Based on a prompt I received: "ok random idea because eddie seems like a bug flirt but when he has a legit crush hes hopeless so reader is so confused because eddie flirts with everyone except her"

Thank you to everyone for your patience. I've been so exhausted lately. But please know I haven't abandoned this or any of my fics. Also, this is now a fix-it fic. Because I have to.

May 1985:

As May rolled in, your anxiety only tripled. You knew you were sure to graduate, but you couldn't help but think that until you walked across that stage and grabbed your diploma, you would worry that something would get in the way of it.

You tried to force yourself into a routine that would get you through the end of your senior year.

Wake up. Eat breakfast. Brush teeth. Get dressed. Drive your sister to school. Go to school. Get through the school day. Avoid Eddie. Get in your car. Go to Colleen's. Work. Go home. Make sure your sister ate dinner, did her homework, and brushed her teeth. Leave dinner out for your dad. Do your homework. Eat dinner. Brush your teeth. Shower. Go to bed.

It was every day. Over and over.

And it was exhausting.

The pressure was nearly unbearable as graduation approached, so when an opportunity came up to unwind a little bit, you took it.

Stacy was always going on and on about how you needed to let loose once in a while. So, when Tina invited practically everyone in the senior class to a graduation party, you decided to go. It was on a Tuesday night, which you thought was dumb, but since it happened to fall on a night when you didn't have to work and your dad would be able to take care of your sister, you decided not to question it. It was your one shot to do what all the other kids were doing for once, so you weren't going to pass it up.

"You're serious?" Stacy asked, excitement and incredulity in her tone. "You're really going with me to Tina's?"

"And we can even have a sleepover after," you promised. "If that's alright with you?"

"Are you kidding? Of course it is! We haven't had a sleepover since..." Stacy trailed off, shooting you an apologetic look.

Since your mom left, you finished in your mind. Since you stopped being a kid or allowing yourself the fun you should have been entitled to.

"Well, we'll just have to make the most of it," Stacy continued, linking her arm through yours. "We'll go to Tina's and then back to my house. We'll stay up all night, eat tons of junk food, and talk and gossip all night long like we used to. It'll be a blast."

"Sounds like it," piped up a voice from behind you.

You froze, but Stacy immediately turned to look at the intruder, and since your arms were still linked, you did as well.

It was Eddie. Of course it was him. Your life was miserable and pathetic, so it was no wonder he kept showing up in it, reminding you of the way he snubbed you during your project.

"So?" Stacy asked, gifting Eddie with an unimpressed look. "It's none of your business, Munson."

"Oh, but I'd like to make it my business," he said, an easy grin gracing his face. He put an arm out, leaning against the locker next to him. Eddie's eyes briefly met yours before he focused on Stacy.

You were torn between rolling your eyes and wishing a hole would open up in the ground and swallow you. As far as you knew, Eddie hated parties and the popular crowd. Why did he suddenly care about Tina's party? Unless, you couldn't help but think, maybe Eddie had a crush on Stacy.

That would be just your luck. Your crush having a thing for one of your best friends. You really shouldn’t be so surprised about your own misfortune, but the thought hurt all the same.

"Again, none of your business," Stacy repeated before she towed you away.

You spared a glance over your shoulder, catching Eddie watching you with a thoughtful look on his face. When he noticed he had your attention, he grimaced, and then hastily turned away, taking off in the other direction.

You felt oddly nervous about going to the party, even though you knew it wasn't as big a deal as you were making it out to be. So what if you weren't a party person? So what if you couldn't care less about hanging out with your peers or had even the faintest inclination to see them outside of school? None of that mattered to you.

What had you so worried was just the thought that Eddie Munson would defy all expectations and decide to show up at a party. But then again, this was Eddie Munson. He lived to defy the odds. He wasn't like anyone else you had ever known. He was loud and brash and made it his mission to go against the status quo.

You told yourself Eddie wouldn't be there. He couldn't possibly be there. He hated the popular kids. He hated sports. He hated parties and dances and everything else most kids wanted to do.

But, of course, because you had to be wrong pretty much every second of your life, you spotted Eddie within five seconds of walking into Tina's house.

He was ridiculously easy to spot. If it wasn't his hair that you noticed, it would have been his denim jacket and ripped jeans. Or it would have been his smile, the way his mouth curled up at the edges in delight. Or, you had to admit, you were just pathetic enough that even when you didn't expect to see him, you still looked for him.

Eddie was leaning up against the wall near the front hallway. He was chatting with a girl, his fingers drumming nervously against his side, and his eyes crinkled up at the corners in mirth. He leaned forward and whispered something in her ear, which made the girl giggle.

It was a different girl and a different place, but you felt like you were reliving the moment in the library all over again.

The girl handed something over to Eddie. You couldn’t catch even a glimpse of whatever it was before Eddie was grabbing it and putting it in the back pocket of his jeans. He tilted his head to the side and waggled his eyebrows at the girl before he turned, leading her down the hallway. You noticed his hand on her lower back as he her ushered into what you assumed was a bedroom.

"Fuck this," you muttered, making to turn around and leave the party.

"Hey, wait a minute," Stacy said, reaching out to grab your wrist. "Where you going? We just got here."

"I, uh, I don't feel so good. Got a headache," you lied, wincing.

"Oh, come on," Stacy groaned. "You do not. You're just trying to chicken out. Not tonight, okay? You don't have to work or babysit your sister. You're just going to have fun, and I see just the thing to get you in the partying mood."

When you realized where Stacy was heading, her fingers wrapped tight around your wrist, you just knew you were headed for trouble "Oh, no," you groaned, attempting to pull out of Stacy's hold. "You can't be serious."

"I am!" Stacy yelled back to you, raising her voice to be heard over the music. "So, pucker up, buttercup, and get ready to play."

You let Stacy drag you into the living room where there was already a group of your peers sitting in a circle. At the center was a glass bottle, and while you would have rather chewed off your own arm than play Spin the Bottle, you couldn't help but admit it would be a good distraction from Eddie.

"Alright, everyone," Tina called as she settled down. "For anyone who doesn't know the rules, the game is Spin the Bottle. When it's your turn, you take a spin, and then lock lips with the lucky person it lands on. If you get the same person three times, then you've got to play Seven Minutes in Heaven. Everyone got it?"

"Yeah, yeah," Marcus, a senior you barely knew, interrupted from across the circle. "Let's get this show on the road," he said before he reached forward to grab the bottle.

You had been worried that the bottle would continuously land on you. You didn't like the idea of kissing someone you weren't interested in, especially in front of the rest of the senior class, but you realized you shouldn't have worried. Five people had already gone, and the bottle hadn't even been in danger of pointing in your direction.

You were starting to finally let yourself relax and enjoy your classmate's embarrassment. You probably wouldn't even be picked, and then Stacy would get bored, and you'd get to leave. So, you got comfortable on the floor, not foreseeing a need to get up any time soon.

But, knowing your luck, the next time someone reached out to spin the bottle, it landed directly on you.

Stacy elbowed you in the side, a squeal of excitement leaving her lips. You felt your cheeks flush as you raised your gaze to see who had spun you in the game.

Steve Harrington.

You blinked inanely at Steve for a moment, shocked that the former King of Hawkins High would soon be kissing you.

"Well, uh, alright," you sighed, before you got to your knees. You met Steve halfway across the circle, sharing an awkward look with him. You leaned forward, eager to get the moment over with, and let your lips brush briefly against Steve's. You pulled back, ignoring the jeers from your classmates, before taking your seat by Stacy.

"That was barely anything," Stacy hissed. "I know you used to have a crush on him. Why didn't you just go for it? He's single, y'know?"

"Shut up," you groaned, resisting the urge to hide your face behind your hands.

You felt like you had finally calmed down by the time it was your turn to spin the bottle. You figured it would be just the same as your last kiss. Brief and over before you could mortify yourself to death. So, you forced yourself to take a deep breath before you reached out to spin the bottle.

You weren't really paying attention, your mind a whirl of anxious thoughts, so you didn't immediately notice when the bottle stopped. It wasn't until Stacy elbowed you in the side once again that you realized it was your turn to kiss someone.

Again, you thought, when you noticed the bottle had landed on Steve yet again.

"We've got our first repeat spin of the night!" Tina crowed, excitement in her tone.

"Yeah, yeah," Steve said, shaking his head. You could tell he felt just as uncomfortable as you did. You tried to ignore Stacy and her obvious excitement as you crawled forward to meet Steve again.

You felt nervous and anxious as you met Steve's eyes. He looked like he didn't quite know how he found himself in his current situation, and for some reason, it made you relax just the tiniest bit. Steve wasn’t making a big deal out of this, so you shouldn’t either.

This was just a stupid party game. Before you knew it, you would be back at Stacy's house, stealing her mom's wine coolers and gossiping over bowls of ice cream. It would be great, you told yourself. You just had to get through this one embarrassing moment first.

It was nothing but a blip on your life’s radar. With that thought in mind, you leaned forward and let Steve kiss you again.

Before you knew it, you were back at Stacy's side, your cheeks flushed, and the barest memory of Steve's lips pressing against yours. You did your damnedest not to meet Steve's eyes across the circle, knowing you would just feel embarrassed all over again if you did.

Stacy shot you a questioning glance and you nodded your head in answer.

You were okay.

You could do this.

You hadn't been to a party. Not like this one. Not unless you counted birthday parties held in the basements of your childhood friends. But there were no streamers or cake or piñatas here.

The older you got, the harder it was to let loose and forget your worries when you already had so much on your plate. Stacy knew you were wildly out of your element, and you knew that if you really wanted to leave, then she wouldn't fight you on it.

That was what kept you in your seat. Stacy, for as wildly different as the two of you were, always had your back. She wouldn't have pulled you into this game if she thought it was going to completely freak you out.

Maybe, in a way, it was just what you needed. You did used to have a crush on Steve back in middle school. It was hard not to have a crush on him now, even. He was no longer Hawkin High's resident king, but he was still popular and cool and had the best hair out of anyone in the senior class, including the girls.

Not to mention, there was something about his smile that made you melt every time.

Now, you had kissed Steve twice, and that was sure of a hell of a lot more than you were used to getting from a guy you liked. Maybe something more would come from it, and you could forget your moment of temporary insanity when you thought you were into Eddie Munson.

It could work, right?

You felt your shoulders tense as each person between you and Steve took their turn. You were worried that he would manage to land on you again with his next turn. You didn't think you could survive seven minutes alone in a closet with Steve. You had barely managed the two brief kisses you shared just moments before.

When Steve spun the bottle and it landed on a different girl, you let yourself relax again. There was no way you would end up having to kiss Steve again. And maybe, if you were lucky, you could talk Stacy into ditching the game so you could grab a drink.

You convinced yourself that it would all work out.

You watched everyone else go, grateful when no one landed on you. Once it was your turn again, you reached out for the bottle.

Not Steve, you thought to yourself.

Not Steve. Not Steve. Not Steve, you chanted over and over in your head.

You didn't even realize you had closed your eyes until you heard Stacy gasp from beside you.

You opened your eyes, allowing your gaze to follow the direction the bottle was pointing, and saw Steve staring at you, a nervous smile on his face.

"You know the rules," Tina said, a bright grin on her face. "Into the closet you two go."

"I don’t--" you started, but Tina cut you off.

“Oh, come on," she coaxed, reaching out to push at your knee. "Just have a little fun."

You glanced over at Stacy, looking to her for guidance. She shrugged her shoulders, letting you know it was up to you.

You noticed Steve was already standing, a cautious look on his face.

He was waiting for you. Steve Harrington was waiting to see if you wanted to go into a closet with him and make out for seven minutes.

Most girls at your school would kill for this opportunity, so why weren't you more excited?

Because Steve wasn't Eddie, you couldn't help but think. But Eddie had gone into a room, alone, with another girl. So, he clearly didn't feel the same way as you did.

Maybe it was time to move on.

You let Tina goad you into a small hall closet, sharing a helpless look with Steve. “Have fun you two," she said, gifting you with a wink, before she closed the door on the pair of you.

You stayed still in the dark, your back pressed up against a row of coats.

"So, uh," Steve started, startling you. "Guess we're here..." he trailed off, as if unsure about where to go from there.

"Yeah," you agreed, a nervous chuckle escaping you. "Look, Steve," you started, knowing that you weren't able to go through with whatever you were supposed to be doing in that closet with him. "I'm not really the party, make out type," you finished, feeling lame as you winced at the darkness in front of you. "You're great, really, but--"

"That's okay," Steve cut you off. "I don't even know why I'm here tonight," Steve admitted with a sigh. "Just seemed like the thing to do, you know?"

"Trust me, I get it," you agreed with a relieved laugh. "I'm so worried all the time about my sister or my dad or college or my job now that the first free night I got, I thought I should go to a party. Be normal, right? Do the irresponsible thing for once. It’s just…I think I'm starting to realize it's not my thing. Not my scene," you admitted. "Sorry," you sighed. "I don't know why I'm telling you all this."

"It's alright," Steve assured you. "What else are we going to do for the next five minutes?"

There was an awkward silence after Steve’s words and you knew you were both busy thinking about what exactly you were supposed to be doing for the next five minutes. Alone. In the closet. Together.

"So, uh, why are you here?" you couldn't help but ask, looking for a distraction.

"It's a party, right? Our last one of senior year. Figured it might as well be worth a shot."

From the tone of Steve’s voice, you got the feeling he was as over this party as you were.

"You've got a job?" Steve asked, breaking the brief silence between the two of you. "Where are you working?"

You spent the rest of the time in the closet with Steve talking about your job and listening to him talk about his plans for the summer. At some point, the both of you had ended up on the floor, sitting next to each other. You could barely see Steve in the dark. Your eyes had adjusted, and with the barest of light managing to creep beneath the closet door, you could just about make out the outline of him.

It helped that you could hardly see Steve while you were confiding in him. You supposed that's why some people went to confession. You talked about yourself and your life and the things on your mind, and you got to pretend that the other person didn't even really know you at all. Even though you knew exactly who the other person was, it made it just the slightest bit easier not being able to see them.

"Thanks, Steve," you whispered, turning your head to look at him.

"For what?" You could just barely see Steve turning his head in your direction.

"For being a good guy," you told him. "For listening to me and not expecting anything else from me."

"Yeah, well, if I had to end up in a closet with anyone at this party, I'm glad it was you."

"Thanks," you told him again, bumping your shoulder against his. There was a weighted silence between the two of you and before you could talk yourself out of it, you tipped forward, brushing your lips against Steve’s.

It was simple and chaste. There was no expectation. It was only meant as a thanks.

You could feel Steve smile against your lips, and you pulled away from him when you heard the doorknob begin to rattle.

You hastily moved to stand, holding a hand out to help Steve up as well.

You expected to find Tina on the other side of the door, but you were completely surprised to realize that the person opening the door was Eddie.

you blinked at Eddie, your heat beating fast in your chest, and tried to think of what to say.

This isn't what it looks like.

I’m not in love with Steve Harrington.

We didn't just make out in a closet for seven minutes. We were talking. Honest!

You've got this all wrong.

"Well, don't you two look cozy," Eddie sneered at Steve. "Is this how you treat all your dates, Harrington?"

"Whatever, man," Steve groaned, rolling his eyes. "See you later, Y/N," he said before slipping past Eddie.

You only had a moment to share a tense, loaded silence with Eddie before he was shaking his head.

"Should've known this would be a bust," he muttered before turning and leaving you to stand there, wondering just how the night had managed to get so out of hand.

Four days later, you were stuck sitting outside with the other seniors, while you listened to the principal drone on and on about how proud he was of the graduating class of 1985. You could stop your thoughts from drifting as you took a glance around at the other students leaving Hawkins High with you.

You noticed Stacy and Steve and even Billy Hargrove, but no Eddie.

It seemed like 1986 would just have to be Eddie’s year, you thought, as you turned back around in your seat. You wondered if that night at Tina’s party would be the last you saw of Eddie Munson and you tried to ignore the twisting feeling in your gut at the thought.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #eddie munson x you #stranger things x reader #reader insert #imagine #reader #living as foes fic

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kpostedsum · 3 years

Text

high | d.m

summary: you find an unhealthy way of coping after draco cheats on you

warnings: drug use (marijuana) angsty¿, cheating, illusions to sex

song: habits - tove lo

a/n: this fic isn’t meant to romanticize drug use in any way. i also know nothing abt weed so LOL and very rushed & not edited

masterlist | taglist

I eat my dinner in my bathtub

Then I go to sexclubs

Watching freaky people gettin' it on

It doesn't make me nervous

If anything I'm restless

Yeah, I've been around and I've seen it all

you had a few minutes left of your charms class which was your last class before the weekend. you wanted nothing more than to get out of here and cuddle up with your boyfriend— who was enjoying his free period right now.

draco was one of the best boyfriends you could ask for, the frequent dates, gifts, and attention— it was more than you could wish for.

“you’re excused. you essays are due at the beginning of next week” snapes monotone voice dragged on as you quickly packed up your things and made your way to the slytherin common room.

I get home, I got the munchies

Binge on all my Twinkies

Throw up in the tub

Then I go to sleep

And I drank up all my money

Days get kinda lonely

entering the slytherin common room your eyes immediately searched for a certain blond boy, yet he was nowhere to be found. you made your way to the boys dorms in hopes of finding him there but you’re quickly interrupted by two familiar voices.

“why hello y/n, marvellous weather we’re having today aren’t we?” theo asked looking towards the ceiling and smiling as if he were outside, blaise blocking your path as he did so.

“i’m not sure what weather you’re talking about since we’re inside but i am okay thank you” you responded with a chuckle, trying to make your way past blaise.

“wait y/n” he stopped you. “can i borrow the astronomy notes? i would ask luna but i can’t find her anywhere” blaise continued.

they both seemed awfully on edge and anxious, you figured it was just quidditch nerves getting to them since there was an upcoming game this week.

“i have yet to finish my astronomy notes, but i did see luna in the great hall if you want her notes. now if you’d excuse me i’d like to see draco” you said trying to push past the two boys who still wouldn’t let you through.

“forget malfoy! let’s do something instead, we’re so much more fun than him, right blaise?” theo said giving blaise a pointed look as he threw his arm around your shoulder.

“right you are nott, let’s go!” blaise continued also throwing his arm around your shoulder and leading you away from the boys dorm.

“what? no, i have plans with draco. now excuse me” you said pushing them both off and heading towards dracos door.

as you get closer to his door you can hear heavy breathing, pants and skin slapping on skin. you’re confused, you figured draco would be taking a nap or running over drills for quidditch practice. the closer you get, the louder the noises become.

“pans, you feel so good”

you recognize that voice anywhere.

You're gone and I gotta stay

High all the time

To keep you off my mind

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

High all the time

To keep you off my mind

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

quickly you turned your head towards blaise and theo who had their heads lowered in shame, refusing to meet your gaze. “is this some kind of sick joke, are you guys pulling a prank or something because this isn’t funny” you said seriously not wanting to believe what you’re hearing from inside of your boyfriends dorm.

“we’re sorry, we tried to convince him not too but he wouldn’t listen” theo muttered silently.

it felt like your world was breaking apart slowly. just not too long ago you were excited to spend a weekend with your boyfriend who you loved so dearly, the same boyfriend who you’ve been dating for years, the same boyfriend who gets jealous about how much time you spend with his mum rather than him.

with shaky fingers you put your hand on the door knob and quickly pushed the door open, already preparing for the worst.

there he was, wrapped up with parkinson in the same bed you two shared not even twenty-four hours ago. her body straddling his naked, just like yours was doing the night before. you stood there frozen, mouth agape— not even knowing what to do with yourself.

“baby, i can explain, just please— y/n please don’t leave” draco said pushing pansy off of him, shuffling on his pants and reaching out towards you.

“dont touch me, malfoy!” you yelled and everyone froze. “you lost the right to touch me the minute you even thought of touching her” you continued sending both him and pansy a glare with tears threatening to slip from your eyes.

“darling please, i can explain—”

“no draco, we’re done just leave me alone, please” your voice cracking at the end as you pushed past blaise and theo rushing towards the girls dormitory.

Spend my days locked in a haze

Trying to forget you babe

I fall back down

Gotta stay high all my life

To forget I'm missing you

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

it’s been days since you last left your room, days since you last saw draco. daphne would come by and check on you but you’d always dismiss her, wanting to be alone. regret is one word to describe how you’ve been feeling— you gave him everything and he threw it away so carelessly for a quick hook up.

you missed waking up against his smooth skin in his embrace, tracing the lines and scars across his porcelain skin as you waited for him to wake up, the way he’d try to kiss you in the morning without brushing his teeth and you wouldn’t let him because of morning breath— but he’d still do it anyways.

you missed him, but he didn’t want you anymore.

maybe it was something you’ve done, you’ve been quite busy with work recently so you haven’t been spending as much time with him as normal. he was probably lonely and trying to seek the attention you lacked to give him.

getting up, you stared at yourself in the mirror picking yourself apart. you were pretty, it was a well known fact around hogwarts, maybe he thought she was prettier. she was the life of the party and always up for some mischief whereas you preferred to do stuff in silence and would rather be with a small group of people. maybe he liked how exciting she was in comparison to you, she probably brought a spark of excitement to his life that you couldn’t.

dreading to feel something you quickly showered and got ready to leave your room hoping to run into a specific set of twins.

Pick up daddies at the playground

How I spend my daytime

Loosen up the frown,

Make them feel alive

I'll make it fast and greasy

I'm on my way to easy

“well what can we do for you today” fred said to you with a cheeky smile plastered across his face.

“do you have any muggle herb left?” you asked in a low voice making sure no one heard you.

“maybe we do, maybe we don’t” george said. “how much are you offering in exchange though” he continued.

“ten galleons for three ounces, is that enough” you said pulling the galleons out of your pockets and placing them in george’s palm.

“it was a pleasure doing business with you” they said in unison as fred placed the tiny baggie in your pocket so no one would see.

once you returned to your dormitory you quickly pulled out the pre-rolled muggle herb, lit it and let yourself forget.

You're gone and I gotta stay

High all the time

To keep you off my mind

Spend my days locked in a haze

Trying to forget you babe

I fall back down

Gotta stay high all my life

To forget I'm missing you

you started showing up to class late with red tired eyes, not caring about the looks you got. at this point every one knew what had happened but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

the muggle herb brought you a sense of bliss and freedom, a new feeling you haven’t felt before but something that you now craved.

“are you high right now?” draco said as he sat himself in the seat beside you.

“since when do you care about what i’m doing” you said sharply, not wanting to talk with him.

“love, you don’t smoke. who gave that stuff to you, i’ll kill them—”

“no you won’t.” you said turning towards him. “you won’t do any of that because you don’t own me and i’m not your girlfriend anymore. so mind your business malfoy, i’m sure parkinson’s waiting for you”

the rest of the class you both sat in silence working on potions that draco did most of since you weren’t in the correct mind state and he wasn’t willing to let his mark falter over your slip up.

you find it amazing how even when you’re on drugs he still looks amazing. the way his nose curves perfectly with a slight bump, and the way his hands move with caution as he pours the potion into the waste bucket.

“look, i’m sorry for what happened with pansy. it didn’t mean anything i swear, i don’t know why i did it but i regret it with my life” draco said breaking your thoughts, he looked older than normal and had dark circles underneath his under eyes. you wondered why he looked so distraught when he wasn’t the one who got cheated on.

“a sorry isn’t going to fix this draco” you told him. he knew you were right but he didn’t want to admit it. he hadn’t talked to pansy since the day you walked in on them, the guilt has been eating him up inside. he stayed silent and didn’t bother respond to you, he knew anything he said would have made the situation worst than it already is— but how he wished you were still his sweet y/n.

“now if you excuse me, i have some fun to attend too” you said leaving him alone as you made your way back to your dorm.

Staying in my play pretend

Where the fun, it got no end

Can't go home alone again

Need someone to numb the pain

You're gone and I gotta stay

High all the time

To keep you off my mind

over the last few weeks, you couldn’t remember the last time you were sober. you started skipping classes to smoke and avoiding your friends so they’d stop questioning your habits.

you were forgetting and that’s all that mattered, you didn’t care how it was affecting your health— it made you feel better. sometimes you wished there was another way, another way to forget how he held you at night pressing soft kisses to your skin, another way to forget the way he took pansy the same way he took you. you wonder if he feels as sorry as he looks, he’s the one who cheated so he can’t possibly care that much.

you hear two knocks at your door which quickly break you from your state making you more attentive, cleaning yourself up and opening the door. there stood draco— his eyes red as well, like hes been crying.

“y/n listen, i know what i did was wrong and that i tried to pretend it wasn’t me but please. i didn’t mean too, you mean the world to me. i miss you so much love.” he pleaded with you.

“y’know draco, i miss you too” you admitted. “but i’ve found a way to forget about you, maybe you should do the same”.

Gotta stay high all my life

To forget I'm missing you

taglist: @mauvea @teenwolfbitches28 @ilygw @nic0lodean @s1ater @henqtic @justreadingficsdontmindme @i-love-scott-mccall @harmqnia @gwlvr @alishahpotter

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy smut #draco fuckingmalfoy #draco malfoy angst #harry potter #draco lucius malfoy

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javier-pena · 3 years

Note

Astrid hello!! I've heard tell that you want people to talk to you about Javi G and uh ... I just can't get the image of him driving the two of you somewhere and having to pull over to fuck you in the car because he's so worked up out of my headdd 😌 (feel free to delete if you don't want to/can't answer!! I totally understand!)

- @javisjeanjacket

Hi! Okay, anyway, writing this nearly was the end of me, but I hope it's what you were looking for!

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x f!reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Rating: it's so explicit that I'm thinking about getting a new identity actually

Summary: the ask says it all, but car s*x

Notes: "i am simply ready to lose my mind. you warned me about this but was i prepared? no." - Dani @javierpcna

***

The leather of the backseat scrapes uncomfortably against your knees, you feel your skin stick to the warm surface. Sweat is forming on your brow, your arms, your legs. Everything is hot and sticky and heavy. Your pants fog up the window in front of you, and the landscape behind it appears murky, despite the late afternoon sun, despite the light dancing over the glistening waves below. If you raise your head slightly, you can even see the next bend in the road.

But you don’t lift your head – you can’t. You press your forehead against the glass, your nails scraping against the rough, leathery surface of the door, while you’re being pushed forward over and over again by precise, well-timed thrusts, by three fingers focused on one spot, three fingers that are your entire world.

I just wanna show you the view.

Javi wasn’t lying when he said that, when he pulled the car over. You are looking at the view, but you aren’t seeing it, not really, not in a way you were meant to be seeing it. Because the minute he stopped the car, his hands were all over you, under your skirt, on your chest – squeezing, holding, teasing. You couldn’t blame him because you had been feeling much the same, had felt an ever-growing itch during his week-long absence, one phone calls and expensive toys hadn’t been able to scratch. And when he had suggested taking you out to dinner after getting back from the airport, you’d been slightly disappointed. Yes, you enjoy the build-up, the tension, the teasing, but tonight you need it hard and fast and dirty.

You hadn’t made it to the restaurant.

Javi was impatient in the car, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, his foot like lead on the gas pedal. The second your hand found his thigh, the muscles tense like steel, he pulled over.

I just wanna show you the view.

The words were slightly slurred, and the next thing you heard was a ripping sound when he tore your panties, tore them right off you, like impatiently unwrapping a gift. He found you hot and wet and wanting, he all but lifted you onto the backseat and here you are now, your skirt pushed up, your backside exposed, your slick dripping down your thighs.

“Baby,” you moan after a particularly rough thrust. You bite your lip when he does it again. “Fuck!” It’s breathless, it’s quiet, it barely scratches the surface of how good he makes you feel.

His other hand lands on the soft flesh of your backside with a crack and you gasp, your forehead knocking against the glass. Your legs tremble as you push yourself back towards him.

“Again,” you groan. “Do it again.”

He does, and the pain turns into searing hot pleasure so intense that when he thrusts his fingers into you next, you come all over them, coating them with your slick, with wet, hot release, trembling, spilling, screaming his name. Through the haze you hear a new sound, you hear how he pulls down his zipper, you even hear his hand pushing aside the fabric of his expensive dress pants, the dark green ones, the ones you love the most, followed by a sigh of relief.

You clench around his fingers at the prospect of his next move, anticipating how he will fill you up, first with his cock, then with his release, and it feels as if you didn’t just come, and maybe you haven’t because when he starts moving his fingers again, you tumble towards another edge at alarming speed.

“Need you--,” you groan through gritted teeth, “--inside, please, God, please, please, Javi, I’ve missed you so much, I’ve missed your …,” you swallow hard, “your cock, please …”

He huffs, and suddenly he’s hovering above you, his fingers on your chin, pulling so your head disconnects from the cooling support of the glass. His palm hovers in front of your face, and without hesitation you lick it, tasting leather and sweat and him. He allows you to suck two fingers into your mouth, to feel their heavy weight on your tongue before he pushes them slightly deeper, making you gag, making you feel full on both ends, before pulling them out. His hand disappears and the wet sounds that follow, mixed with his low grunts are like a heady soundtrack to your own pleasure.

You listen, and imagine his face, his hooded eyes, his reddened cheeks, his curls sticking up in odd places, and suddenly you find yourself yearning for how he looks when he’s fucked out and glowing and sated. You cannot wait to give that to him, so you try to pull yourself off his fingers to turn around, but he stops you with a harsh command.

“Stay!”

You follow his orders and listen to him fucking into his own fist, thinking about how it could be your cunt instead, and he knows you’re thinking it, too, that’s why he teases you like that, that’s why he makes you listen to his pleasure, why he keeps you on the tip of his fingers where he can feel you clench in time with his hand moving over himself.

“Did you think of me?” you ask with the last bit of strength you have left.

A grunt is all you receive as confirmation. But he does pull out his fingers and you tense because you know what’s about to happen.

His hand is so wet, covered in your slick like this that when he grabs a handful of your ass and squeezes, he leaves cooling imprints against your hot skin. He slaps you again, does it two times more – grab, slap, grab, slap. You whimper, a pitiful little sound that makes him snarl.

“Harder,” you demand.

This time, your wish remains unheard. Instead, he buries his index finger between your wet folds, then moves it up, leaving a wet trail in its wake, until he reaches a destination you both have only talked about visiting without making the actual trip. But when his wet digit probes it carefully, you want it, want him so much it makes you light-headed, makes you feel fuzzy and high.

His deep voice cuts through the blanket of lust surrounding you. “You’re so tight”, the tip of his finger slips past the firm ring of muscle, “… tight little hole for me to fill.”

He holds you hooked on his finger, like a fish caught, while he continues to stroke himself frantically. You hold your breath, listening to the obscene sounds his hand is making, listening to his pants and moans, and you wish you knew where his eyes are, but you think you can guess. Then something shifts, he shifts, and he’s closer now, also deeper inside of you, while his thumb is buried between your folds again, and your entire body clenches with need.

His thumb finds your clit and it’s over, you come with a scream that echoes around the stuffy car – it might be his name, it might be a curse – but you pull his index finger deeper inside of you as your orgasm rips through you, and he gasps in surprise, deep and desperate. He tries to wait until you’re done, but you won’t stop shaking, your cunt won’t stop fluttering like a butterfly caught in a storm, so he pulls his finger out of you while you’re still coming, making you mewl at the loss.

You feel it, hot and heavy and hard, as he drags his cock through your drenched folds, up until it brushes against where you want him inside of you, but his hot release is already coating your back, your thighs, your over-sensitive center.

You both need to come back down to reality and you need to do it now before someone finds you like this. “We’re gonna be late.”

“Late for what?”

God, his voice! Hearing it after he’s just come makes your legs feel like jelly.

You swallow. “Dinner.”

“Oh, did I forget to specify what kind of dinner?” he teases.

Both of his hands hold you in place as he leans down over your back and drags his tongue over your skin covered in sweat and his own release. When your high giggle turns into a deep moan, he whispers against you.

“I have all I need right here.”

#the unbearable weight of massive talent #javi gutierrez x reader #javi gutierrez x you #javi gutierrez #pedro pascal #fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #please forgive me

446 notes · View notes

sunder-soul · 3 years

Note

okay but like... tom (if he was like actually able to love and have emotions) dating the biggest ball of fluff and sunshine who’s literally known as the only nice slytherin,,,, they’re like really clingy and are always clinging onto him and he tries to get annoyed but they’re just so cute that he stands there like 😐 not even bothering to push them off. and omg when he’s being all dark and stuff like “i will kill your friends and family if you leave me” they assume he’s joking and respond with stuff like “i would never leave you silly”... stop i’m crying😭😭

I took some creative liberties with this so it ended up a lil different, but I kept the core essentials of your prompt 💖 Thanks for this!!

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Dangerous

Summary: Ball-of-sunshine Slytherin Reader encounters a hint of Tom’s dark side for the first time, but it doesn’t necessarily go how Tom expects.

Wordcount: 1.3k

Content warning: none

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

He doesn’t even hear you before it’s too late. You collide into him full-force outside the Great Hall, nearly knocking him back a step with the pure velocity of the hug.

“Hey!” you beam. “How was Potions?”

“It was fine,” Tom says mechanically, even-faced as he gently leans forward and sets you back on the ground – though neither of you step away, and your arms are left around his neck as you grin up at him.

“Fine, huh,” you laugh, “geez, don’t blow me away with all the details, Tom.”

Tom visibly hesitates, frowning slightly as he looks down at you, but right as he opens his mouth to say something another voice rings out.

“Can’t you take a hint?” scoffs Lestrange. “Get off him and go be a disgrace to Slytherin someplace else.”

“Disgrace to Slytherin?” you echo in amusement as you look over at the motley gang of boys always following Tom around. “I’ll have you know that last term Professor Beery told me that I was a delight to have in class.”

“Beery’s an idiot, and you’re not welcome here,” Avery snaps.

“Just because the only time you’re a delight to have in class is on your way out, Avery,” you say teasingly, before looking back at Tom and sliding your hands down to his shoulders. “Hey, I gotta go, I promised Rutherford that I’d help him with the Astronomy assignment before dinner –”

“Rutherford? You’re wasting your time with that idiot?” Black snorts.

“ – but I’ll see you later,” you grin, ignoring Black’s comment entirely as you step back from Tom, “make sure you actually eat something at dinner, Riddle, hugging you just about gives me a paper cut!”

You’re gone before any of them can say another word, your robes billowing wildly behind you as you dash away.

“Why do you put up with that, Riddle?” Lestrange mutters, shaking his head. “It’s embarrassing.”

Tom wrenches his eyes off of your retreating form and steps through the doors into the Great Hall. “It’s harmless,” he says blankly.

The boys shoot each other curious looks but they follow him in silence – they know all too well the consequences of disagreeing with Tom Riddle.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Why are you making me do this?” Tom says flatly, looking around the common room disinterestedly.

You carefully slide the parchment under the glass that Tom was holding, trying to not accidentally sandwich the spider’s legs. “Hold still,” you say seriously, “I’ve nearly got it.”

The spider had crawled across the huge circular study table in the corner of the Slytherin common room about five minutes prior and had made Matilda Greengrass shriek at the top of her lungs.

“I thought you were afraid of spiders,” Tom mutters.

You smile absently, attention captivated by carefully lifting both the glass and the parchment. “I am.”

“Then why aren’t you just killing it?” he asks with a curt wave of his hand.

“Don’t be silly,” you laugh, turning to the stairs. “Now are you coming or not?”

“Where are you going?” Tom demands, but it’s no use – you’re already halfway up the stairs. He grits his teeth, but a second later he follows after you.

“We’ve got to put it outside, don’t we?” you say brightly when he catches up to you.

“You’re breaking curfew to put a spider outside?” he asks, exasperated.

“I’ve got a prefect with me, I’ll be fine,” you say with a wink.

Tom looks away, his expression stony, but he still follows you down the dungeon corridor. “That’s why you asked me to help you?” he asks flatly. “An alibi to avoid detention?”

“More like an alibi for your company,” you grin.

Tom looks back at you impassively, and he doesn’t speak another word until you’re returning to the common room with an empty, spider-less glass. “You should be more careful whose company you seek,” he says evenly.

“Should I?” you smile, glancing at him. “Are you talking about yourself?”

“Everyone knows you only see the good parts of people,” Tom says smoothly, his fingers lacing behind his back as he takes long, even strides beside you, “but it could be very dangerous to ignore the rest.”

“You think I’m ignoring the dangerous parts of you?” you laugh.

Tom looks at you, expression impenetrable. “Does that amuse you?” he asks softly. “I could be anything, after all.”

“Are you going to try to convince me that you’re a secret mass murderer?” you say teasingly.

Tom laughs, much too coldly. “Perhaps not a mass murderer,” he says contemplatively, looking around the corridor with detached interest. “But perhaps I’ve done other things you’d find… abhorrent.”

You draw to a halt and catch his arm, making him stop, too. “You’re being serious,” you say in realisation, frowning.

Tom doesn’t say anything, he only looks down at you with cool, impassive eyes like he was considering his options. Suddenly the dungeon corridor seems too big and too empty, the air colder and darker than moments before.

“Are you dangerous, Tom?” you ask, barely above whisper.

“What would you do if I was?” he replies softly, his head tilting slightly as he turns to you.

Your stomach twists but you try to ignore it. “I’m not sure,” you say slowly. “That might depend on how you’re dangerous.”

Tom’s lips curve into a small smirk and he takes a single step towards you that makes your pulse triple. “Would you really like to know?” he murmurs, lifting a hand and – so gently that your skin erupts into goosebumps – trailing his fingers down your cheek. “Should I tell you what I’m capable of? Would you still want my company afterwards?”

“Are you trying to scare me?” you whisper, swallowing the trembling feeling in your chest.

“Are you scared?” Tom breathes as he steps towards you again, pushing you backwards. Your back hits the wall and you stare up at him, eyes wide. You swallow hard as Tom’s fingers delicately take hold of your jaw and tilt your face up to his, trying to stop your knees from shaking.

“Is that why Lestrange and the others follow you around even though you obviously don’t even like them?” you ask with the faintest tremor in your voice. “Are they afraid of you?”

Tom’s smirk grows and his fingers trail the curve of your jaw and down on your neck, leaving shivers in their wake. “Observant, aren’t you?” he whispers, watching his fingertips brush your skin with interest. “A true Slytherin after all...”

“It would be easier, wouldn’t it?” you manage to say.

Tom’s fingers grow still against your skin, a minute crease appearing between his brows as his eyes dart up to yours. “Easier?” he repeats sharply.

“If I were scared of you,” you whisper, “that way I’d leave you alone.”

His dark eyes flick between yours like he hadn’t been expecting your response.

“Maybe you’re the one who’s scared,” you breathe.

Tom laughs again, a single derisive scoff as he lifts his jaw and looks down at you. “And what about you should frighten me?” he asks contemptuously.

“Maybe you’re scared that I actually like you,” you say quietly, “and maybe it scares you that you like being liked.”

Tom’s eyes widen and his hand drops from your neck like you’ve burned him as he steps back quickly. “It’s late,” he says harshly, looking away down the corridor. “You should get to your dorm.”

You frown. “What about you?”

“I have patrols,” he says curtly, turning on his heel and leaving without another word. You watch him go for a moment and then turn back to the Slytherin common room, your heart still beating fast.

The feeling of Tom’s fingers trailing feather-light across your skin haunts you until you finally fall asleep.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

To request sequels/being tagged in follow-ups, leave a reply in the notes! 💖

#tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #slytherin reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle imagines #prompt #dark tom #minific #established relationship #anon #dangerous #tom riddle fic #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle fanfiction #gn reader

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omg-im-such-a-masochist · 3 years

Text

WORK FOR THAT

Prompt: Requested, by a lovely anon. Hope you’ll like it, sweetie

Word Count: Long-ish

Pairings: Rhea Ripley x Reader

Warnings: +18, smut, oral sex, dirty talk

Editor: @thenightmareismyreality

Tag: @sassymox , @waywardwrestlewritingwaif , @yungbludjazz360 , @placeoffreedom

Notes: If you’d like to check out my previous works, you can find them on my Masterlist 😉

“I think she’s into you” Asuka smirked, as she stared at Rhea, who was sitting down in one of the catering tables behind me “You should’ve seen the way she was eating you up with her eyes when you were interviewing Drew earlier” She giggled

“She is something! But also seems like trouble, so uh, no thanks” I laughed

“Come on, Y/N, how much trouble could a one night stand cause?”

“A lot when you know that it probably wouldn’t be a one time thing!”

“Oh” She smirked “And why is that?”

“Do you know me at all? If you think I could ride that face only one time and that’s it, then you don’t know me as much as I thought you did! Have you seen her? She looks like she knows exactly how to eat a pussy, ok?”

“I sure can” Rhea whispered in my ear “And if you ever want a free test drive” She slid a piece of paper on top of the table “Let me know, so I can prove it to you”

She stepped back towards the door, when she reached the doorway, she turned around and mischievously stuck her tongue out at me, the piercing in the middle catching the light

“I fucking hate you” I slapped Asuka’s arm

“Ouch” She dramatically screamed “You’re welcome! And let me know if she means it” She laughed when I got up from the table to go to the bathroom, so I could splash some water on my now burning face

……………………………………………….

My phone buzzed on top of the hotel bedroom’s nightstand

Rhea 😈: Good morning, gorgeous. When will you stop being so stubborn and come here to get that free test drive? 👅

Y/N 🍑: In your dreams, Ripley

Rhea 😈: C’mon, princess… Don’t pretend like you don’t want to 😏

Y/N 🍑: It’s not a matter of wanting, it’s a matter of doing what’s right

Rhea 😈: Exactly! And what’s right is for you to come to room 635 right now and ride my face 👅💦

Y/N 🍑: 🤦‍♀️ You’re no good...I gotta go now, I need to shower

Rhea 😈: Can I join you? You know, just in case you need some help of course 😇

Y/N 🍑: Yeah, that’s exactly why you want to join me 🤥

…………………………………………………

Later that day as I was heading to hair and makeup, I heard someone wolf whistling at me. I turned around to find the blonde and female version of the Devil, right behind me

“You scared me”

“Sorry, princess” Rhea leaned against the wall “I just had the perfect view of your ass and fuck, it looks so good that I couldn’t help myself” She smiled

“You are so filthy” I tried to hold back my laugh

“But you love it, don’t you?” She roamed closer “I know you wanna laugh” She teased “Or at least giggle”

She dipped her head down towards my neck, nuzzling her nose against my skin

“You drive me crazy” She mumbled

“Rhea...” My words died on my lips when her arms circled around my waist and her hands rested against my ass, pulling me even closer to her

“I know you’re playing hard to get, but I’m reaching my limit here” Her hands caressed my ass “I’m starting to wonder if I’m doing the right thing, because it feels like I’m pushing you into wanting something you’re not in the mood for”

“You’re not doing anything wrong” I caressed the back of her neck and let my nails lightly scratch her scalp, which made her growl

“So I’m not overstepping here?” She asked

“No, you’re not”

She lifted her head up, and tightened her grip around my waist

“So you won’t mind if I do this?” She leaned down, brushing her lips against mine, testing the waters but also giving me a chance to pull back if I wanted to.

When she realized I wasn’t going to stop her, she fully captured my lips in a breathtaking kiss. Biting my bottom lip, until it slid out of her teeth. I opened my eyes to find a dumb smile glued to her lips

“Oh, you like me” She teased, kissing my lips once more “You like me a lot” She smirked

“You’re so childish” I cackled, as an intense pink shade took over my cheeks

“And you’re blushing?” She hugged me tightly “You really like me” She attacked my neck with several nips, making me squirm and laugh loudly

“You’re so cute together” We heard Asuka say, as she passed by our side in the hallway

We both startled when we heard her voice “Fuck, I thought it was boss lady” Rhea chuckled

“I know, I almost shit in my pants thinking I was going to be fired” I laughed along with her

“Come get dinner with me tonight?”

“I don’t know, Ree...I don’t like to think someone can take a picture of us together and put it on the internet, just so then people can say that I got this job because of you”

“But you didn’t!”

“Yes, but you know how people are, they just assume things, and suddenly fiction becomes truth, even when it’s the farthest thing from it

“Ok...my hotel room then? We can order some room service, have a chit chat, make out” She growled playfully

“That’s all you want me for?” I teased

“No” She giggled “But I’m not gonna sit here and lie to you either! I feel very attracted to you and would love if we had sex, but that’s not the main reason why I like you”

One of the things I loved the most about Rhea was her raw honesty, she’s always one to tell you the truth, no matter how harsh or sappy it is

“Ok, I accept your invitation”

“Really?” She smiled widely, spinning me around the hallway

“Rhea, you’re gonna make us fall!” I laughed

……………………………………………………….

“It looks fine, Y/N!” Asuka said, chewing on a handful of popcorn

“Right” I rolled my eyes in annoyance, staring at the full length mirror in front of me “It displays my pouch beautifully” I poked my belly

“First of all, you’re beautiful! Stop putting yourself down like that!” She stood up from her bed and stopped by my side “Secondly, you could be wearing a trash bag and Rhea still would think you are the most beautiful woman on the earth! Trust me, I know what I’m saying” She smirked

“You heard her say something?” I asked, hopeful

“I heard a thing or two” She smiled wickedly “But I’m not telling you anything!” She laughed when I scowled

…………………………………………………………

I knocked on her door, already regretting my choice for an outfit (which basically consisted of a pair of yoga pants, with a loose crop top shirt and some sneakers), but before I could run back to my room and change outfits, she opened the door and her whistle was what made me get out of my self deprecation daydream.

“Fuck, you look hot” She smirked

See what I meant about the raw honesty?

Shaking my head while chuckling, I said “Thanks”

She offered me her hand, pulled me inside her bedroom and pressed me against the closed door, kissing me as if her life depended on it

“What happened with the ‘food first, sex later’ rule?” I laughed, as she pulled me towards her

“That was before you showed up at my door looking like this” She smacked my ass “This is your fault, princess, not mine” She hugged me tightly

I stepped away from her, turned around and walked towards the bed, giving her the perfect view of my ass in the light grey yoga pants

Do I know my ass looks insanely good in those pants? Yes!

Did I do it on purpose? Hell yes!

When I reached the bed, I placed myself in all fours on top of it, wiggled my ass in the air and looked over my shoulder at her

“Come, Rhea” I purred, and cackled at the low growl she made

She ran towards the bed, grabbed my hips and pushed me down on the mattress, locking me there with her body weight

“You’re in some big trouble, missy”

“Am I? What did I do?” I batted my lashes innocently

She chuckled “You’re no good, woman!” Her hands dipped underneath my crop top, and grabbed my breasts through the bra “And to think I was worried about corrupting you, when in fact you’re as dirty as I am” Her tongue traced patterns along my neck

“Rhea, please” I moaned

She pushed my pants down, but suddenly stopped to sit up

“Where are your panties?” She smirked

“Oh damn it! I knew I was forgetting something” I smiled devilishly

“Fuck” She panted, dipping her head down to my core

I sighed deeply in content, when her tongue met my clit “You’re so fucking good” I looked down and she winked. My hand quickly grabbed her short blonde locks at the same time she pushed two fingers in

“Oh my fucking -” I pulled on her hair when her fingers inside of me curled and her lips began to suck on my clit

I looked down to find her gaze glued to my face “I’m gonna cum” I moaned “Fuck you’re gonna make me cum so good” I bit my lip in order to control my moans

The next touch of her tongue piercing against my bundle of nerves was what made me explode around her fingers.

Rhea’s fingers and tongue actions became softer and softer as I came down from my high. Smiling, she made her way up, towards my lips and kissing me softly

“Why are you so good at this?” I asked, completely mind blown

“Told you I could eat pussy” She chuckled

“Fuck, I think you ruined me” I panted

“Oh no, princess” She grinned “I’m not even close to ruining you yet”

Please, if you’re comfortable with it, let me know your thoughts on this? Feedbacks are always appreciated 🥰😘

#rhea ripley imagine #rhea ripley #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley smut #wwe x reader #wwe smut #wwe imagine #wwe fanfiction #wwe one shot #wwe superstars #masochist writes

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huenjin · 3 years

Text

unhooking a bra for dummies.

pairing: han jisung x reader

word count: 6k words

genre: smut

tw: use of swear words and name calling out of sheer affection, detailed sexual content — hickeys, breast play, nipple play, fingering, cunnilingus, clitoral stimulation, overstimulation, multiple orgasm, squirting, blowjob, deep throating, gagging, penetration, creampie.

note: this fic has been rewritten/reconcepted from my previous bts fic, the idiot's guide to unhook a bra.

The last time your boyfriend tries to remove your bra one handed, you are glad it is on your body and not his. Not with his strong history of trying to learn how to untie bras by wearing them and then snapping them only to ruin your pretty collection.

The last time your boyfriend tries to remove your bra one handed, it's on your request.

Not because you wanted Jisung to learn (not that it isn't a win-win situation) but mostly because you were so sex deprived from your boyfriend for two weeks now, thanks to his competitive arse. Thanks to his determination of wanting to learn how to remove a bra single handedly because some stupid magazine said it was cool.

Also because the movie was boring and your boyfriend seemed a lot more interesting than the movie's horrible direction.

You're on top of Jisung's lap, kissing down his neck, telling him to focus on how he's feeling and how he'd feel rather than being so competitive to remove the bra. Jisung pulls back and mumbles, "How does that work?"

"You've tried it enough for two weeks," you kiss him. "It's going to work."

"Is this a test?"

"Consider it," you sigh. "You're really killing the mood again, boy," you frown, before straightening up your spine and looking at him, "It's just a bra. Why are you so goddamn hung up over it?"

He confesses finally, "Because I saw some stupid article the day after I said everything. It told me that girls love it and that it'd make them happy."

Figures. You called out on this a week back.

You cup Jisung's face, a bit taken aback by his response, "But you make me happy either way."

"I—"

"Sungie," you press your forehead against his, smiling at how your boyfriend's eyes sparkle so brightly, "You're still going to be my star always. My sunshine."

You kiss Jisung, laughing against his lips when he coos at you. His hands are warm against that long brown sweater – way too long for you – you have always borrowed from him. He kisses you, his hands making way under his sweater, trailing slowly upwards as he draws out his kiss.

You know what he's trying to do and you choose to ignore, praying to all the gods out there that your boyfriend succeeds. He places his fingers on one side of the clasp and your thumb on the other. He moves towards your neck, peppering kisses against so as to distract you. He pinches both the sides together, sliding the right side against the left, freeing hooks from the eyelets. He pulls back from you, lips leaving your skin, at the same time your bra is undone.

"Bro," he stretches the syllable and you laugh, eyes wrinkling, commenting, "You sound like a white teenager."

"And you don't when you do?"

"Touché."

"But I did it," he screams, hugging you tight. The intensity at which he is joyous almost makes it seem like he won something great but that's Jisung for you. "I did it!"

"You did, baby! You did."

He kisses you again. Your boyfriend is so happy that he is smiling against your lips, breaking the kiss but he doesn't care and nor do you. He cradles your face in his hands, pulling back and laughs, "Hey, maybe we can sex tonight after all."

"Oh fuck, don't kill the mood. The last thing I want is Jeongin's catchphrase right before me getting hammered by my boyfriend after weeks."

"Like you haven't mentioned you don't want him around once?"

You flail your hands upwards in defense only to wrap it around Jisung and kiss him shut, mumbling against his lips, "Not today." Your lips tug onto his lower ones, latching onto it before pulling back and gazing at him. You could see how beautiful he was - his rosy lips that are parted and his nose that is good enough to bop. Han Jisung is a beauty carved from the finest and you are glad to call him yours.

"Fuck," he swears under his breath. You smile widely, eyes turning into crescents as he gazes at you, mumbling, "You're all mine, wow. I'm a lucky lucky man." You laugh, mumbling, "Yeah, you are." and lift your hand. Stretching your index finger, you poked his head, pushing it back, parietal bone hitting the bed's headboard.

Jisung gulps, his eyes turning a shade darker. You lean forward, catching Jisung midway for a kiss. You hold his face, guiding and directing the kiss, being forceful and trying to show the dominance you clearly lacked. Jisung always leads and you're hoping he takes back the reins soon.

And he does. Just as you prayed. His hands are on your hips, gripping it harder, his leg wrapping over yours in one swift motion and he has you pinned under him, hot air fanning over your face and you're giggling. Jisung frowns at you before kissing your pinna and mumbling, pouting, "You lost weight, babe. You need to eat more."

"I've been busy with this project," you respond and brush his hair.

"I'll take you out for a fancy dinner tonight after this."

"You think we could go?"

"Uh huh," he kisses your neck, sucking on the skin lightly sending tingles down your spine. "We could. I want to treat my favorite girl to some sexy food."

"I love you."

He kisses you in response not so gently, immediately coaxing your mouth open to allow his tongue inside. His hands forget all about being slow and teasing, the stress of not having you for two weeks straight sending him desperate, running all over your body, before pausing.

"This one goes off," he tugs at his sweater that you are wearing, pulling it off of you only to gasp at your covered breasts. "That bra looks beautiful on you, fuck."

He stares at the wine purple bra hardly covering your breasts now that the strap was off, ready to fall off any minute from now. Jisung gapes at how beautiful they make your breasts look before tugging it off, mumbling, "I like you better without anything though."

One of his warm hands covers your breast, fingers slowly digging into the skin. His palm squeezes your breast, thumb running over your nipple before he purposefully leans down and gives you a taste of his warm mouth for the first time that night and in weeks now. You gape open at the contact of his mouth on your nipple, teeth purposely grazing against the skin.

"I missed you doing this," you gasp for air, hand holding onto his hair for grip and to angle him slightly. Jisung hasn't bothered every time you push yourself onto him, aching and craving for more. If anything, it's always made the bulge more prominent. "You stupid boy focussed on a thing that weren't necessary like unhooking a bra when we could — ah, fuck, Jisung." He rolls his tongue over your nipple, your hand tightening around his scalp, tugging at his hair furiously. "Yes!"

He lets go of your nipple only to raise himself upwards and hover over your face. He bites your bottom lip, small kitten licks before sucking it into his mouth and you respond with a weak whimper before pulling away, breathing loud and clear and vivid enough for your chest to rise and fall.

His large hands trace along your spine, his palms trailing along your covered flesh, the figure that's carved into his head, a memory attested forever that he's glad for. Every single one of his touches sets your skin aflame with desire. Heat settles deep within the deepest cores of your abdomen, the heat slowly trailing downward stimulating your glands to release secretions that make your panties cling to your core. You moan when you feel his hardening shaft against the soft of your abdomen, involuntarily grinding against it. Your movements cause him to let out a grunt, limited and constrained, and he groans out your name.

He moves lower, tugging at the straps of your panties with his teeth, grazing the skin around it, sending goosebumps sprouting. You laugh post the rush, "You're good at this though. Like really good, Jisung."

"I know," he laughs against your skin. "Need to have you keeping me around. What if you decided a vibrator's better than me?"

You laugh loudly, hand falling on your chest, "Pretty sure a vibrator can't kiss me and love me like you do, baby."

Your mouth parts open when he kisses you, his lips brushing against the skin covering the bones and you let out a set of breathy moans, heat pooling deep within your pubic region as you find yourself growing wetter when Jisung kisses you around your acetabulum. He tugs your panties down partially with his teeth, fingers helping him out till he gets completely away from your skin.

He lifts himself up, throwing his shirt away. Dipping his head down, his attention is back on his favorite spot on your neck by your prominent jugular. Jisung kisses your neck, whispering sweet nothings into you. His hand lowers and lands on your inner thighs, goosebumps rising from your flesh and you gasp.

“Fuck," he swears under his breath. His fingers are dangling so close to your core that he can feel your arousal by your thighs. "You’re so fucking wet,” Jisung mutters, only to laugh and comment, "Maybe I should have fucked you.”

"Should have," you whine. "But guess what? My boyfriend's fucking— Ah!"

He absent-mindedly plays with strings of your arousal, coating his palms and fingers. You gasp at the sudden contact. Twisting and turning his fingers, he gathers up the dangling strings of arousal, before bringing it to his mouth and licking it clean. His gaze is still fixated on yours.

"Fuck you."

"Sure. On it, babe."

Tauntingly, he continues teasing your cunt — the tip of his finger lightly pressing against the entrance, but never enough to fully enter you. Each small action has you moving forward in pleasure as you try to push against his hand in an attempt to sink his finger into you. Jisung chuckles, kissing your clavicle, biting into the skin above and sucking furiously enough to mark you. He licks the mark before kissing down your clavicle.

He runs his finger through your core, collecting more of your juices onto his digit, before teasingly entering you barely. You find yourself hissing and bucking, your entrance twitching around the tip of his finger responsively.

“Jisung,” you whine, pushing your core further into his hand. “Please,” you implore, beg. You're desperate enough and two weeks of no contact has left you unhinged. The sensation of the pad of his thumb swiping against your swollen, needy clit causing you to buck into him, your cunt soon contracting around nothing. He pushes himself up and lowers down your body to meet your core. Your core involuntarily clenches, releasing another gush of wetness, pooling down the skin and staining his bedsheets messily.

"Your clothes—" you point, tugging at his pants. "Off, hoe," you sigh. "Now."

"Not yet," he rasps. "Need to give you that orgasm I owe you."

"Ah!" You sigh pleasantly. Jisung moans, shuddering under your fingertips. “My girl is all pretty and wet all for me," he mewls. His fingers trace small circles further into your slit, until his digits are teasing your entrance again. A low mewl falls from your lips, your hips writhing into his hand and you try to get him to push his fingers into you now.

“Jisung, shut with the teasing, you bitch,” you murmur, not even bothering to hide the want in your voice exhibiting now through annoyance, along with the greed for so much more. He laughs at your name calling, against your skin, nose brushing against your skin and with a kiss to your mound, his digits lightly push against the tightness of your entrance. He relishes and dwells himself in the way you tighten around just for him. You are just for him. A being he has been blessed with that's made for him just as he is for you. His eyes sparkle in mirth at your core clenching and unclenching involuntarily around him. You whine, “Fuck," trying to tighten around his digit as much as possible, almost as if you think your orgasm is going to rush in just by the sheer touch of your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend pushes one and then another finger into you. Your wetness allows them to slide in with ease and he gasps at how the jagged inner walls of yours feel — a memory he wishes he could remember every time. Somehow he's glad he can't because every single moment with you feels like a first time for him. The rush and excitement is unmatched. Drawing raspy breaths from you, he slowly begins pumping them into you. With each movement, you feel your entrance open and close, your eyes rolling back at the sensation. He pumps them into you, relishing every moan and swear word that leaves your lips. It's perhaps the very fact that you haven't had sex with him for so long that makes you want him more than ever, your arousal evident and dripping around, coating his finger.

He breathes in the scent of your arousal deeply, pressing kisses against your skin, softly at first before it turns into intense ones, licking and sucking on them to make a visible mark against them, staining your mound with purple and dark red hues.

“I fucking love you, man,” His voice is low, dropping a couple of octaves, and the deep sound that turns deeper every single time he whispers, thrums against your skin, before kissing against the skin again. You are so close to breaking down from just his breath against you, gripping on his hair so hard that you are worried you're going to rip his hair out. “Yes, yes, yes,” leaves your lips and letting out an appreciative groan, Jisung slides his fingers deeper into you till his knuckles touch the sides of your core and you are gasping, taking in heavy breaths of air, eyes squeezing shut.

“You're literally swallowing me,” Jisung breathily whispers against your core, pressing a butterfly kiss against your clit. His words cause you to clench involuntarily, squeezing around him tightly and then his mouth is against your core, more specifically your clit, licking on it, before sucking, inappropriate sounds hitting off the walls, eliciting a choked moan from you.

You are about to say a word before Jisung curls his fingers up into you and your back arches slightly at the rush that it sends, a moan leaving your lips loudly as you scream out, “Sungie!”

You feel him rubbing against the same spot that brings the loudest reaction from you — a discovery he makes every time all over again — before dragging his fingers back slowly only to slip his fingers easily into you again, the slick of your arousal dripping down your thighs, making a mess.

"Wet and dripping. I’ll give you what you want, baby. You were so patient with me.” He rubs your walls, his attention undivided on your enlarged clit and your hips gyrate with him, thrusting and chasing after his fingers desperately.

He lifts himself up – his hand still rubbing against your spot – trailing kisses upwards till he latches onto your mouth, tugging at your lower lip. He delves into your mouth, tangling with your tongue. The sensations are heightened, your head unable to focus on either. Breaking from the kiss, you cry out against his lips, your breaths heavily intermingling together. Jisung uses his other hand to hold your jaw and angle your head in such a way that your foggy gaze is fixed on his sharp ones and your mouth opens slightly.

"Come for me, babe," he urges. His command, along with the way his fingers rub across your clit, has you crossing off of the brink of pleasure and into an oblivion for the first time that night and in weeks. You see the stars as you squint your eyes shut forcefully, breathing loud and shallow as you chant your boyfriend's name like a mantra. You need a moment to calm down from how good that orgasm is and Jisung slowly rubs you through your high.

Skin flushing with heat and covered in sweat, you feel electric sparks jolt across your flesh under your skin as bright ecstasy rumbles in your veins all over again as your boyfriend rubs your clit vigorously. In a split second without any heed or warning, his mouth is still on you. He flicks your clit with a snap of his finger and instantly, your muscles lock up, your nerves oversensitized. Tears spill from the corner of your eyes and you tug at Jisung's hair, face falling to the side as you bite into your lower lip.

Out of breath almost instantly, Jisung hovers over you, cupping your face with one hand of his and kissing you, wiping your tears away. You breathe in his air as he kisses you, your jaw slackens sadly once he leaves. You let out a loud whineful cry as a powerful orgasm powers through you again, his hand leaving yours for a minute as you squirt on being overstimulated. Your thighs quake violently as your back raises and arches upwards slightly. Your boyfriend's other arm wraps around your back as he kisses you through your heightened orgasm, helping you settle down. Your muscles tremble and ache and soon you find your hips halting their movement as you lose yourself into pleasure, squirting slowly receding. His hand is covered in your juices, glistening in the light of the room and he chuckles against your lips after pulling back, placing you lightly on your back.

“That was so fucking hot,” he looks at you proudly, pressing his forehead against yours. Your eyes are squeezed shut post that powerful orgasm, thick rivers of tears staining your cheeks. He moves only after your eyes open, making sure you’re alright and able to breath right.

"You're a bitch, dude," you barely let out. "But I love you."

Once you collect your breath, you move down his body, overcome with the need to please your boyfriend, to please this beautiful man who just made you come twice on his tongue, overstimulated you enough to make you squirt, embarrassing the hell out of your being. You hastily grip the hem of his sweats and begin to pull them down.

Jisung pushes himself backwards instinctively when you lift yourself up. You hold his shoulders, body still trembling from the after effects of your last orgasm and ask, "On your back, please."

"Baby, you don't— It's all you today."

"Yeah, and so let me."

Jisung lays on his back on your command and you kneel between his legs. He pulls himself upwards, one arm bending to support him and the other resting beneath his head to support his head up. He watches you position yourself between his thick thighs, practically drooling at the sight of his large cock. He finally lies there completely naked, a small smile dancing on his lips at the sight of you, skin glowing in the dim light of the room, soft music from the neighbours you are grateful for, muscles straining slightly despite his relaxed state, belly button piercing twinkling every now and then as the light hits the metal.

You take his cock into your mouth, working him in small portions. You remember how intimidated you had felt the first night you tried giving your boyfriend a head. Even though Jisung was kind enough to praise you through it, cradling and caressing you throughout, it was hard. With a girth as thick as his and mouth as small as yours, it was bound to be hard. With time, you learned of the ways to take his cock like an absolute professional, though it still managed to overwhelm you at certain times, if he really wanted to give it to you good. Not that you minded. You doubt you'd ever mind it when it's Han Jisung.

You bob your head, mouth coating his skin in your saliva, as your hand works what you can’t reach yet, encasing it in your grip. Above your head, Jisung is sighing, coral pouty lips parting and clenching his jaw as he watches his cock disappear inch by inch into your pretty, pink mouth, enjoying the sight of your lips wrapped so warmly around him. He loves watching you take him slowly. Jisung loves it so much that he thinks if he could stamp one memory forever or take a picture to treasure, it is this. One of his hands slips down to grip at your hair, only holding it back loosely for now, not applying any pressure. He loves seeing you like this as much as he wouldn't agree to you directly but he thinks you know. You seem like you know. Yet again, there is nothing you don't know about him.

“Fuck, baby,” he sighs out when you take more of him in and suck firmly on your way back up, licking at the head and sucking on it leisurely, tongue lapping at the sensitive pink skin of his length. He curses once again, huffing out a heavy breath, going delirious at the sight of you bobbing on his length. The rise of his chest begins to increase its pace and his body begins to build up a sweat all over again.

He groans loudly when you go down once again, taking in the most that you’ve had so far. Your eyes are closed, hair out of your way and your tongue is at against his length. His arm supports his body and he sits up. You feel the movement and you quickly open your eyes, pulling away and moving upwards hastily. You attempt to pull him out of your mouth to see if you did anything wrong. However, he places his hand firmly to the back of your head — you feel the large hand cover most of your head, hand gripping on a ponytail he has made and fixates your head exactly where it is.

“Keep going, please,” he breathes out and your pussy practically melts at that, as you look up at Jisung, his eyelids half closing in pleasure, his grip on your hair getting tighter. He glistens in the dim light, body shining from the sweat and you press your tongue flat against his tongue suddenly and he jerks.

“Fuck your mouth is, shit—“ he pauses to groan, pushing your mouth further down and you try to fight your gag reflex as much as possible. “This is what heaven feels like, baby. This is heaven on Earth.”

He takes control of your movements now. Being the soft dominant human being he is, he clutches your hair tightly to guide your mouth on his cock as he pleases. He eventually begins to buck his hips up to fuck your mouth, the explicit stickling sound of your saliva coating his cock every time he moves, resonating and bouncing off the walls. You're gagging heavily, trying to breathe properly through your nose. Saliva is dripping down your chin because of his length which is so big that you know you'd never be able to take him without activating your gag reflex. Your eyes roll over before your eyelids shut and Jisung's controlling your movements completely now.

“Love this pretty mouth of yours, baby,” he groans, pushing your head as far down as you could go. You choke a bit, letting out a stunned noise, one out of breath but you grip his thighs in an attempt to calm yourself and relax, despite the tears stinging your eyes at your gag reflex kicking in. Jisung slows down his movements, letting go of your hair but you refuse to move. You grab his hand before he could let go of you and you place it back over your head. He smiles and guides you again.

Your arousal drips down your core again and down your thighs, and you can’t help but push yourself forward. Your rear is pushing back against nothing but sheer want and lust for the man before you and his eyes catch onto the sight of your supple soft skin up in the air while your mouth is still locked on his cock. The entire position makes him lust over this woman before him that he proudly calls his.

“You’re so pretty,” he pants, eyes fluttering for a second when you suck on him harder, tongue licking a stripe along the underside of his dick all the way to its head, taking it home. Your hand grips on his balls, carressing it lightly under your fingertips when you feel it tightening. You know he's close and so you suck at the tip of his head furiously, letting out grunts from Jisung's lips, leaving them so deliriously that it has you moving quicker, jumping your groin into nothing. He finally pulls you off his cock, still gripping your hair firmly.

You cough for a while, stained aftermath of saliva on the corner of your lips. Your eyes are teary, some spilling from the corners and your lips are swollen. Jisung somehow, weirdly likes it. He loves seeing you fucked out for him over his cock. He loves seeing your slight makeup haphazard and your entire being disoriented for him. He thinks he's a fucking masochist because he wants to make you cry on his cock — cry for his cock.

"Why?" Your voice is parched as you manage to ask. "You were close."

He pulls you close, tugging at your arm and you fall on top of his chest. He kisses your nose and smiles, wiping the tears away from the corner of your eyes before whispering, "Need to come inside of you, baby."

And he flips you over in the flash of a second and you are under him for the second time that night, ready for a million times for the rest of your life. You kiss him, your shaking hands cupping his face, rubbing small circles into the side with your thumb.

Jisung holds one of your legs by its underside and lifts it above, placing it on your shoulder. You prop your body slightly upwards, ache residing by the joints and Jisung kisses the skin at your acetabulum. He brushes his cock against your cunt and a harsh swear leaves his pretty lips. The tip brushes your clit, tingles running down your spine. Your nails dig into his hand by your side, holding onto the bedsheet and you gasp.

He slides in slowly, letting you get used to his girth and familiarise yourself with it. He pushes it in agonisingly slow and it adds further to the sensuality. The stretch causes you to curl your toes in ecstasy. With your leg over his shoulder, heels digging into the skin by his scapula, the way he is holding you allows him to move deeper, sliding in until you can feel him by your deepest parts and his thighs are pressed against your purple bruised ones. He bends forward and you watch your boyfriend.

Fuck, you love him. So much.

His face is soft and yet so affectionate, his features molded from the divine being, flawless and perfect. Jisung is panting in your ears, the grunt soft and echoing in your eardrums, amplifying on their way to your cochlea and you surround yourself in him. His muscles are tense and the words come out in a low, deep tone, "Fuck, you're swallowing me as a whole. Baby, you are so pretty."

He kisses your lips, ceasing his movements for a while in your wet warmth, whispering against them, "I'm so lucky, so lucky, so lucky—"

He pushes once more to go deeper if it's possible and you moan loudly. He watches your eyes squeeze shut and he can't believe that you're all for him, made for him just as he was for you. You squeeze around him unknowingly and he swears under his breath, his grip on your hip tightening. He knows he could come with you just wrapped around him perfectly, with all your warmth encasing him like he's lucky. He grits his teeth and pulls out. When he slams into you again, his pubic bone hitting your nether region, balls slapping against your arse, you scream. He's close already from you giving a phenomenal head and now when you're squeezing him like your life depended on it, he knows he's going to lose his sanity to you.

Jisung picks up a pace. It is fast and hard and has you gripping onto him for the life of yours. Your hips move along to match his pace and when your moans get excessive, he locks his lips with yours, owning every one of them and making them his. You scream louder into his mouth, muffled screams slipping out. You can feel him twitching against your wall and the whine that leaves you is muffled by his mouth again.

"I want to see you come again, baby," he mumbles, pushing into you, jerking you up. "I want to see you come undone because of me. All around me."

He lets go of your leg, feeling your leg move unsteadily because of the ache that rests in your joints, and moves his hand over your clit. He taps on your clit at a steady pace and you fill your mind slowly coming undone, like a pearl necklace ready to snap. His mouth is against your ear, licking a stripe at the cartilage before whispering into it, "Look at you. So fucking pretty. You're a—" He thrusts into you, hitting a spot that has you shuddering down on him fighting an urge to come undone so quickly, both you and him that Jisung has to catch his breath for a second there. "—my goddess. You're perfect for me. Need to see you come undone under my touch. Need to see you break into a vulnerable mess because of my touch. Need you to wrap around me perfectly."

Tears spill from the corner of your eyes and it's all too much. Your senses are heightened and you feel his warmth around you perfectly and in you completely. Your hand finds its way back to Jisung's hair, tugging at the ones by his nape, digging into the skin by his neck before travelling to messily hold at his scapula, arm falling over his shoulders.

"Please, fuck— please, Sungie," you cry. "Want you, need you, need you, need yo—"

Your boyfriend grunts, his grip firmer than a second before, his stomach quivering and his hips striking, picking up momentum until he's pounding you against the warmth of your bed, the bed making sounds of creeking occasionally as it pushes backwards and falls back forward. You wrap your legs around his waist, hips moving upwards wildly because you know you're close and you know Jisung is too.

He kisses you, passionate and fiery. Your brain feels fuzzy, your consciousness diminishing. Your fucked out expression is the one look that he knows he'd want to get it sketched. Your eyes hooded, cheeks flushed, face glistening in sweat, lips swollen and red and parted, with moans leaving them so softly that he knows he's ruined for. You are whining, moans leaving your lips one after another in no particular order of vocal range — occasionally screaming so loud that you know the nice lady across the hall is going to give you a earful tomorrow morning — when his cock slams into the same spot that has you losing your mind and it snaps.

"Fuck, Jisung!" You come around his cock, the white flash spreading under your eyelids and you're weeping, desperately, mercilessly. The tears in your eyes fall at that, the combination of sensations you’re experiencing right now too much to handle and Jisung quickly catches onto it with an almost sinister chuckle. Your heart swells and you feel the rushing oxytocin clouding your brain, filling you with nothing but love for Jisung.

Jisung continues thrusting into you, chasing after his own orgasm. He still whispers into your ear that makes you bloom in confidence, "There, baby. You're doing so well. That's my girl." You know that he is close and so you hold him tight, squeezing around his girth and your boyfriend moans. You kiss his neck, leaving marks on his skin as you bend forwards. His hips stutter widely and a deep groan fills your ears. You can faintly feel it as he comes undone in the sheath you are. It's pulsating, warm and hot and he holds himself in you, thrusting slowly and languidly to come down from his high, moaning into you.

His lips constantly peck yours, over and over again, lazily giving you gentle kisses as you feel his come leak out of you, once he pulls out of you, humming a soft tune against you, his voice surrounding you. He moves to lie beside you, pulling you to lie on your side in front of him, continuing to kiss you lazily as he begins to sneak his tongue into your mouth, leg draping over yours, arm wrapping around your middle to pull you closer to him and press your body completely to his, gently stroking your sweaty hair back.

The whole situation is a mess but there is something so domestic and warm about this, about Jisung just holding you in moments after sex.

You do the same, snuggling closer to him, enjoying the soft treatment and the gentle feel of his lips, your hands tracing his shoulders and biceps before going to his chest and sneakily tracing down to his belly button, poking the metal piercing. You pull away for a second with a tired giggle.

“You know,” you murmur, voice hoarse for all kinds of reasons clearly. “You’re really hot and all but this," you kiss his nose, "This is why I keep you around."

“What a bitch," he laughs. "A bitch I love a bit too much."

"Aw," you coo. "I love you too, babe."

"What's this, Jisung?"

You point at the beautiful packaged box, also tied with yet another beautiful red ribbon. It is surrounded by fresh rose petals in the side. Having known Jisung for years now, you are not completely wrong when you suspect something fishy. It's not even Valentine's.

"I swear to God, Sungie, if this is some weird shit—"

He raises his hands in defense, leaning against the doorpost, waiting for you to open the gift. He has a smug expression on his face, so ready to tease the crap out of you.

You pull the ribbon out and open the lid of the box, only to find a thong in it. A bright red colored one. You pick it up, holding the string between your thumb and your forefinger only to find the vibrator attached to it and the words, 'It Ain't Gonna Lick Itself,' on the fabric.

"You bastard."

And you chase after him, your hand stretched forward after throwing the thong back onto the bed. Jisung's already sprinting away from the bedroom and into the hall, jumping on the sofas to get away from you. You're laughing, finding the whole situation extremely ridiculous just as much as the present is; chasing after your boyfriend like you were five. And when you scream at your boyfriend as to why, all he has to say is —

"It's your fault. You were the one whining about not spicing up our sex life, babe."

"That was you!"

#stray kids smut #han smut #jisung smut #skz smut #han jisung smut #kpop smut #writings.rue

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after-witch · 3 years

Text

Close to My Heart [Baby Mine Part 3] [Yandere Overhaul x Reader]

Title: Close to My Heart [Baby Mine Part 3] [Yandere Overhaul x Reader]

Synopsis: He’s drugging you again. The bastard.

Word Count:

Notes: yandere, stockholm syndrome, medical/drug content

He’s drugging you again. The bastard. The world is too much--too bright, too empty, too heavy and thick. The drugs he’s giving you make you sleepy, slow, heavy.

And the room you’re in is so empty. Bare walls and a bed and an overhead light. The familiarity--scenes of years ago, of weeks spent in a room just like this one--is gutting. You miss the side table next to your bed with your books and notepad; you miss glancing into your daughter’s bedroom before walking downstairs to get a glass of water in the middle of the night. You miss your daughter.

You don’t know how long these things have been gone, only that they are gone, leaving you with nothing in their stead.

Nothing but him, anyway.

He’s sitting on the end of your bed again. Staring down at you, mask on, eyes piercing even through the heaviness surrounding you. Your arms aren’t restrained anymore, but every time you move, it’s clear why he isn’t bothering: with all the drowsy-inducing sedatives built up in your system, you couldn’t muster an effective attack even if you tried.

And you’ve tried.

“How are you feeling?”

The same questions, every morning.

You press your lips together and smack them. Your throat is dry. You hope he brought your water cup. It’s the least he could do.

“Where’s my daughter?” You say, finally, voice dry and hoarse.

He doesn’t miss a beat.

“She’s safe. How are you feeling?”

“Let me see her.”

He shakes his head, a small, imperceptible motion.

“Not until you’re better. How are you feeling?”

His voice never loses its smooth, authoritative edge. You can’t say you missed this, missed the way he talked down to you like you were some weak little thing that doesn’t know right from wrong.

You lean back on your elbows, forcing your head to lift up enough to look him in the eyes. You try to muster an expression of disdain, but you don’t know if it’s registering anywhere but your own mind.

“Like shit. Fuck you, by the way.” You can’t help but take the tiniest bits of satisfaction where you can, and it doesn’t matter that your voice is hoarse and your arms are trembling and that you’re drugged to shit, because it gets a reaction fro him.

A small reaction, but still. His lips purse in a frown.

“Dear,” he says, oh-so-disappointed. “Your language.”

You let your arms give way, falling back against the pillow with a laugh that hurts your chest. Potty mouth, you think, I’m such a potty mouth. What did you read one time, some novel set in the American Midwest--better put a dollar in the swear jar.

“Stop being difficult.”

You snort.

Your head stays where it is, eyes following him as he retrieves a tray he set on the only other piece of furniture in the room: a bolted down chair, padded like a marshmallow. You’ve been tempted to point it out, tempted to ask him if he thinks you’ll try to smash your head open on a normal chair--why not pad your bed then, too? But he might just stick you in a straightjacket or something equally restricting if you so much as make a joke about harming yourself, so you don’t.

A rumbling, empty feeling in your stomach, the scratchiness of your dry throat, destroys any temptation to goad him more. He’s not above making you wait for food if you’re being testy, though you don’t think he’d go so far as to actually starve you. Just deprive you a bit, like he has a few times this week. So you force yourself to simply sit quietly and watch as he brings the tray to your bed, unfolding the little legs and placing it down in front of you.

He lifts up the cup of lukewarm water, a large blue cup you recognize from the kitchen. The little white straw peaking out of the top bounces around until you catch it with your lips. You barely listen to his words--’just a few sips, dear’--and try to ignore the tight, tingly feeling all this gives you.

Prickling humiliation, vaguely colored with childhood memories of hospital stays that made you feel helpless and alone, washes over you every time he gives you something to eat or drink. He always insists on holding the cup, on making you use a thin plastic straw--small sips only. He cuts up your food into tiny bites and only gives you a plastic spoon to eat with.

You dimly remember him feeding you thin broth some time ago, spoon knocking against your teeth every time you moved your head; but that was when your sedative dose was higher and stronger and you were so conked out of your mind that you kept calling him a doctor.

But you’ve graduated to rice and overcooked, bland vegetable that you can eat with a spoon. You know who he is, all the time, which honestly makes things a bit worse than when your stuffy mind thought he was someone else. Hooray.

Your fingers tremble as you press your spoon against the lumpy mash of vegetables. You can’t decide if he’s overcooking them on purpose or if he simply stinks at cooking now, having surely been years out of practice. They look even lumpier than normal, covered in a thick sauce; you bite down the urge to snarkily ask him if the sodium content from such a sauce is appropriate for your delicate health.

You’ve been his little home chef for how long now? Whipping up desserts and dinners like it was your profession. Whipping them up with a smile. And, before the birth of your daughter changed everything, whipping them up with a bright anxiety brimming underneath--anxiety for his approval. Did he like it? Was it too salty? The rice was cooked fine, wasn’t it?

And it wasn’t just the food, no. You’d wanted to please him in everything. In the way you cleaned, in the way you dressed, in the way you tried to soothe him after he’d clearly had a rough day while you sat at home, comparatively comfortable, reading books or fussing with the kitchen curtains again.

But true, honest (disgusting, dark, deep-seated) thoughts of pleasing him have been the furthest thing from your mind for years now. You allowed only the vainest of surface pleasantries to remain, for the sake of pretense, for the sake of getting away with the loving act long enough to get the two of you as far away as possible. Long enough to see yourself and your daughter free and happy, creating a new life--somewhere. Anywhere.

Well, look at you now.

A tear drips down onto your tray, running past your lips, warm and salty. The sight of the tear mingled with the smushed vegetables does it, brings you over the edge, and your shoulders shake helplessly as you begin to cry. You can already feel the exhaustion sweeping over you--the mere act of sitting up and crying and feeling something, feeling something so sad, means you’ll be out like a light soon. Your emotions feel so muted lately--the sedatives?--and when you do feel them, it’s so, so tiring.

His gloved hand brushes your cheek, brushes at your tear, and flinch away. You stare at the floor, white, bare. Rugs are a tripping hazard, you assume. Or maybe he wants to drive you crazy with all the light colors, the creams and eggshells and just-barely-there pale greys.

You sigh, and look back at your tray. Your stomach demands it, so you lift up a spoonful of muddy-colored vegetables and take a bite. Despite your best efforts, the plastic spoon clinks against your teeth anyway. On your next bite, you go slower, steadying your hands--sometimes he insists on feeding you himself, if you mess up enough. You don’t think you have the energy left today to deal with that. So you eat, slow. Carefully. He doesn’t speak, simply watching as the plate of food, the vegetables and rice, slowly disappear inside you.

The sauce is salty and the vegetables are mush, but the rice is fine and you only wish there was more of it so you could stomach the vegetables more readily.

When you’re done, he holds the cup again, positioning the straw near your lips. You sip a little faster, greedy and thirsty, until there’s nothing left inside.

His eyes practically light up at the empty tray, and as he’s taking it away you leans in closer, whispering through his mask, “Good girl.”

Your stomach churns. Maybe the vegetables had gone bad. Or maybe hearing him voice praise that would have made your heart flutter before is making you feel sick.

After he sets the tray to the side, he takes his place--this time not at the end of your bed, but on the side, unnervingly close to you. You watch as he slides his hands behind his ears, slipping off his mask and setting it down on top of your bedspread.

But then he just… watches you.

You’re about to ask him what he wants, tell him to just spit it out already, tell him to fuck off if he’s just going to be a creeper who stares at you, when you feel something. Something different. A blooming, a wave, a strange feeling coming from inside your skin. Bone-deep, blood-deep.

And it’s then that you realize that he’s drugged the food with something new. Something strong. Something that does more than make you sleepy, like the stuff he injects into your arm.

Oh the fucker. Fucker, fucker, fucker. You feel it taking effect like a slow-going tide, radiating through your body. Tingles, light and airy, taking all of the sadness and stress and hate balled up inside you; soaking them up like a towel, until all that’s left inside you is a blissful feeling of forced relaxation.

“What did you do?” You ask, though it comes out as a whisper. Your head lolls a bit to the side. Was your pillow always so soft? You blink away that thought, try to focus on what’s happening: he put more drugs in the food, he put something in the food that’s not just to make you sleep and now your body is tingling.

He takes your hands in his--you dimly realize that you should pull away, but why bother? His grip helps your hands feel less floaty, anyway--and gives a firm squeeze.

“I know you’re still in there. That… untoward behavior with our daughter, none of that was really you.”

You smile. There’s a brief flicker of lightness in his eyes, but when you speak it flies away.

“You don’t know me,” you say, voice free of the snark and bite from earlier, but clearly grating to his ears all the same.

Chisaki leans forward, and in your relaxed state you don’t attempt to move away. You simply register the closeness and focus on the way your body, your mind, is slowly deflating.

He squeezes your hands tighter. Too tight. They won’t float away, for sure.

“We’ve lived together for years. We’ve shared the same bed. We have a child together. You think I don’t know you?”

You whine--you don’t mean to, not necessarily, but your chest and lungs and throat aren’t cooperating. They’re too light for the sound you wanted to make, a guttural low sound from somewhere inside. Instead it comes across as childish and helpless and you suppose, that’s what you are.

“Lived together…” You laugh, shaking your head against the soft pillow. “But you kidnapped me.” He did, didn’t he, all those years ago. From a life you barely remember, especially right now; from people whose faces are scrubbed from your memory by time and trauma.

His fingers are stroking your hands now. It feels nice--it almost tickles. But the softness of the strokes, the way they tickle the tops of your hands, contrasts against his voice, firm, controlled, a touch of anger brushing underneath.

“I gave you a home. I indulged you in your interests, your hobbies, however silly. I gave you a family. Don’t act ungrateful.”

“M’not,” you mumble, reflexive more than reflecting. Trying to think about what he’s saying is hard, and getting harder by the minute. The tingling has now draped over your head and your thoughts are wrapped in cotton, thick and fluffy. You wish he’d talk softer. Everything else is calm, and the edge of something dark in his voice feels amplified a thousandfold.

“Look at me.” His voice is still too harsh. Maybe you should pet his hands to see if it helps, like it helped yours stay intact.

Before you can do anything, he speaks again.

“Don’t you love our daughter?”

Your head turns too quickly to look up at him, and you’re dizzy, but the words tumble out of your hoarse throat anyway.

“Yes. Oh, yes. You know I do.”

You may not remember the faces of others (your mother, your friends, your mother) but you remember your daughter’s face. Clear as a bell. Bright. You want to be with her so badly.

Another firm squeeze of your fingers. You squeeze back--hopefully it will bring him down to your level, to the cotton and balloons.

“Then why don’t you want to be with her?”

Why is he asking such a mean question? Your lips curl downwards in an unintentional childish mimic of a frown. They feel thick, almost numb, as you half-blubber out the words.

“I do want to be with her, but you won’t let me.”

His hands leave yours--you almost want to reach out, but they lay almost limp on your stomach--and he cradles your cheek instead. There’s warmth on your cheek and you realize that he’s taken his gloves off. Ah. Maybe your squeeze worked, after all; he only takes off his gloves when he’s happy, when he’s comfortable. When he wants to comfort you.

Fuzzy memories of crying into his shoulder, of weeping openly on a bed in a long-forgotten room, mingled with the sensation of his bare skin against yours. Always soft, comforting. Enduring. Something you could rely on to release the pressure of your emotions and bring you back down.

“Because you’re unwell,” he whispers, voice as soft as the cotton wrapped around your thoughts. “You’re so unwell.”

The way he brushes his hand against your forehead feels nice. Maybe you’re sick, after all.

You don’t even think about the words before you speak them, instinctual questions now going right from your surface thoughts to your voice and out your mouth.

“If I get better, can I see her?”

There’s a hand cradling your cheek again, and this time, you lean your face into the warmth. There’s that spark in his eyes again, but this time the look doesn’t melt away because of your ill-timed comment. You press your lips together to keep it that way, lest the thoughts flying out your brain make him upset again.

You feel so nice, like this, like you’re wrapped in the softest blankets in the world and there’s nothing, no hardness, no anger, no sadness, holding you down and making you cry. Just him and you and the warmth radiating throughout your body.

Why cry, when his hand is right here, when your body is so tingled and relaxed. Why cry, when all you can think about is how nice you feel, how calm he is, how calm you are.

Why cry, when the next words he speaks make your heart thud against your chest in pure, body-lifting joy.

“Of course you can.”

His hand trails along your chin, cupping it in a way that makes your stomach flutter.

“Now that I’ve found the right medicine for your… disposition, we can start the rest of your treatment right away.”

What he says should scare you. But there’s no room left in your body for anything but forced content and fuzzy softness and the smallest hint of deja vu, a wispy little thing cupping its hands and yelling warnings that you brush away with a smile.

#yandere overhaul #yandere chisaki kai #overhaul x reader #yandere bnha #afterwitch writes #part 4 will probably not be a full part #just a vignette to wrap up this particular storyline

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matsbarzal · 3 years

Note

hey could you do number 13 under the random/au list with mat barzal??? thank you so much!

random #13. "can we make a tiktok?" "no." "okay so here's what we're doing."

pairing: mat barzal x reader word count: 1.2k warning: mentions of food and eating, tiktok

Mathew Barzal was aggravatedly the most nonchalant person you knew. He had been the same since the beginning of your relationship, never showing direct enthusiasm or any form of stress, constantly demonstrating that he was just happy to be alive, and happy to be with you.

It’s not that you ever complained about it either, per se, it was nice to be with someone who didn’t consistently worry you that something was wrong, or that they weren’t doing the greatest. The only part you ever complained about? His unwillingness to do anything fun.

He was adamant that he just enjoyed the basic necessities of life, spending time with you, eating, hockey, spending time with Anthony, occasionally going on vacation, and spending time with Josty during the summer.

Every time you wanted to do something out of the realm of Mat’s normalcy, you had to practically beg, or force the Islanders’ forward to go along with whatever plan you had decided to participate in that you knew he was going to argue against. Especially if it was a trend you had found on social media, because God forbid Mathew Barzal ever participate in something found on social media, willingly.

“Can we make a Tiktok?”

An immediate groan was heard from the other side of the room, Mat’s body turning to face yours. “No.”

Brushing off his words, you made your way towards him and lightly pushed the phone under his face so he had no choice but to watch the screen in front of him.

“Okay, so here’s what we’re doing,” the screen played in front of him, the couple in the video making their way into a Walmart, picking out the cheapest and most gaudy clothes they could find for the other to wear.

It was an entire date night in 60 seconds, from the couple picking each other’s clothes out, all the way to whoever won each round of rock, paper, scissors picking the appetizer, the dinner and eventually the dessert. You could see the apprehension and lack of joy in Mat’s features, his head trying to immediately shake in your direction after the Tiktok ended.

“Y/N…”

Shaking your head, and gently putting your hand up to stop him, you presented the most pleading eyes you could muster up as you looked at your boyfriend.

“Mat, c’mon. I do everything you want to do, I go to all your games that I can, I spend all the time in the world with you and Tito, the least you could do for me is this. It’ll be so fun! And we can post, your fans will love it. Probably won’t love me, but they’ll love seeing you!”

You watched the apprehension visibly disappear as your words floated through his head, a reluctant agreement falling from his lips.

That’s how you found yourself in the Walmart parking lot, a pair of tie dye sweatpants wrapped around Mat’s waist, and a sunflower button-up covering his chest. An Islanders’ bucket hat covered his head, and his typical Adidas shoes adorned his feet.

You looked just as gaudy, a pair of baggy red and black striped pants on your legs, and a florescent pink shirt adorned your upper body. The small smile that tugged onto Mat’s lips every time he looked at you made the outfit worth it, even just to see the little amount of joy that catered to your boyfriend’s lips.

“Okay, rock, paper, scissors!”

Mat’s rock hit your scissors down immediately, a wide grin taking over his face.

“Mozzarella sticks and nachos it is! Off to the bar we go babe,” pressing the end button on the camera, Mat pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before putting the car into drive and making his way to your favourite hole-in-the-wall bar, the best place you could get mozzarella sticks and nachos that were edible and didn’t cost an arm and a leg in New York City.

He used his teeth to eagerly pull the mozzarella stick between his finger and his mouth, the cheese dropping onto his chin and eliciting a loud giggle from your lips as you turned the camera to face him again, his hands immediately grabbing for the napkin as he tried to hold in a laugh of his own.

“Okay, maybe I’m having a bit of fun. People are looking at us like we’re crazy,” shrugging your shoulders, you just gestured around to everyone in the bar.

“We’re in New York, babe. I’ve seen far crazier than this, now come on, rock, paper, scissors!”

Next up was your pick, your paper beating his rock. The gyro restaurant was around the corner, and ironically, it was yours and Mat’s typical 3am restaurant, the 24-hour chain happy to greet you whenever you got peckish in the middle of the night.

“So, Tiktok, this place, New York City Falafel Co has some of the best 3am meals you want. I know it’s only 8pm, but Y/N and I go twice a week just for their gyros. Absolutely incredible,” his words were sped up, so he didn’t waste a significant portion of the video, the camera panning around the small restaurant as the people at the counter kindly greeted you, their eyes giving you a once over as small grins took over their faces.

“Date night, Mr. Barzal?”

Nodding eagerly, Mat wrapped an arm around you with a large smile. “Yeah, look who finally got me out of the house and into a snazzy outfit. Feeling extra good looking tonight, my good sir. What do ya think of the fit?”

“Here’s to hoping you didn’t pick your own outfit tonight, Mr. Barzal. What can I grab for the lovely couple?”

Mat laughed as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head and ordered your typical meals, the grin never leaving his face as he watched the workers from behind the counter.

The food was easily scarfed down by the both of you, the Tiktok camera getting small action-shots every few minutes of the food and Mat eating.

“Okay, last one. Rock, paper, scissors!”

Two flat hands looked back at each other, a small laugh bubbling up from your throat as Mat groaned. “Can we make it a tie and go and get cheesecake? The Cheesecake Factory is like… right around the corner, and I want cheesecake so bad after that.”

Nodding your head eagerly, you bid goodbye to the workers and made your way out the door with Mat, his hand interlacing with yours as the fall winds of New York whipped past the both of you. Your phone was instantly out, your body turning in a small circle as you captured the area you were slowly walking towards.

Moving the camera so that it was facing Mat, you barely had time to think before he was gently pressing his lips against yours, just in time for the video to capture the last bit of remaining reel it had. His lips stayed pressed against yours, his right hand cupping your cheek as his left pressed against your lower back, your own lips pressing against his greedily.

“Think we ran out of camera space,” shrugging his shoulders, Mat pulled back to rub at his stomach gently.

“Don’t think I can eat anything anyways, that gyro stuffed me right up.”

user763397943: omg that’s mat barzal laceycameron12: their outfits!! what a cute date

beausbarzal: y/n is so good for mat, look at his smile 🥺

user246892083: bet mat picked out that outfit yikes

sparkynyi: that’s OUR number 13

note: AH this was a date i've always wanted to write, and i just know mat would hate to love it. thank you for requesting, and i hope you love it dear <3

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