#the realization that I didn't give him ANY body hair makes me sick.. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inkskinned · 1 year

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i love my therapist but i hate being in therapy. 10 minutes before my appointment, i'm in a meeting with my boss - we discuss my artistic choices; my boss recommends i artistically choose less. 10 minutes after therapy, i wash my hair and think about everything that was said, and then i have to switch it off, like a lamp, and go back to work again.

i was on a walk the other day and someone had the perfect combination of his cologne and whatever-else. it was almost exactly his scent. i fucking hate that. after all these years, i remember that? i tell my therapist - i feel like a fucking wolf. try telling a middle-aged blonde lady. oh i scented him on the air. i'm 30, and i'm having a panic attack over something that would be a plotline in the omegaverse.

what they don't tell you about mental illness is that if you are lucky enough to survive it into adulthood; it becomes a weird slice of your life. because you do, eventually, have to build a life. i realized in a panic somewhere around 22 - oh. i don't know what i'm fucking doing, because i always assumed i'd just go ahead and die. i didn't die, and i'm grateful for that, and i'm very happy about that choice. but it does mean that i am an adult in an apartment, living with my conditions side-by-side like. oh, that's my roommate, adhd. ignore the glass, bytheway, that's ocd.

so you pick your stupid life up by the scruff of the neck and you're, like glad for it (so much laughter and light and friends you would have never thought possible, when you were in the worst of it). but it feels so strange to be dancing around these odd little microcosms, these patchwork moments of your symptoms. if you have a panic attack at night, you still need to wake up and walk the dog in the morning. if your depression is making everything boring, well, you don't have any sick days left, and a job's not really supposed to be that exciting anyway. your ocd tears out each individual leg hair, and then, an hour later, you sigh, patch up the bloody bits, and go get dinner with friends. and the life is kitten-quiet, mewling and pathetic, but it's also like - it's yours, so you're fond of it.

and it's like - you're real. so you still enjoy pushing the shopping cart really fast and then riding on the back of it down an empty aisle. and you're not, like, so sick anymore that when you accidentally drop a mug you burst into tears (except for the days you do that. which are bad). and no, you're not allowed around certain items anymore. oops! but you've learned to be good about brushing your teeth most days of the week. and yeah sometimes in the middle of the day you have a little freak-out about how fucking unfair it all is, how fucking hard, how other people can just do this without having to fucking hurt the whole time. and then you sigh and force yourself to sit down and fucking journal about it so you can tell the nice middle-aged blonde woman yeah i had a hard day but i practiced grounding. you still sometimes want to burst out of your own skin, but you force yourself to eat kind-of healthy and to take your vitamins. you let yourself chop off all your hair in the sink in a dramatic poetry of control and relief - and you also have developed good hobbies that help you move your body more frequently. you feel helplessly behind, lost in the shuffle - but you also practice gratitude, taking stock of what you have garnered. because you're trying. even if you're never gonna be normal, you have something... close enough.

and the little kitten of your life, this mangy, starlit tigercub, this thing you expected to rot so young: in your arms, it turns itself over, belly-up. exposing this new soft part, all the organs and guts. like it's saying i trust you now. you won't give me up.

#does this even MAKE SENSE!!!!!#writeblr #btw what im trying to express in that first sentence is EXPLICITLY the feeling of logging off therapy to immediately go back to work #like :) haha!

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spacebarbarianweird · 5 months

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Astarion x f!Tav pregnancy headcanons

@treshmind @chillingintheunderdark @azu21 @rachelle-on-the-run

Masterlist

Headcanons

Ok, it turned out to be much longer than I expected. And very angsty

None of you have any idea it was possible to get pregnant

Astarion is a vampire. He definitely "shoots blanks."

The ability to knock someone up was taken away from him along with his life many years ago.

Until one day, you feel weird. Sick, exhausted.

It's not like you pay too much attention to your monthly bleeding (what's the point anyway?"), but you notice it's been a while

And Astarion, after feeding on you, says your blood tastes different. Not bad, not weird. Just different.

And the scent isn't like it was before.

You are terrified you've caught one of these magical sicknesses or curses no one knows how to cure.

You go to the healer, who gives you a herbal drink, saying, "Take this; it's good for the child, and don't bother me until you feel something is off."

And you stay in the healer's hut, shocked, trying to understand what kind of child he is fucking talking about?

Until you realize.

You remember the night half a month ago, when a group of thugs attacked the village where you and Astarion live together.

Astarion returned from the woods drunk with sentient creatures' blood, his eyes glowing red and his skin blazing hot.

He just swept you away from your feet, dragged inside, stripped you of your light armor, and pinned you to the bed until the next sunset.

It was not the first time he was that "blood drunk," - but it was the first time it happened one of the days you could possibly conceive.

It's just a coincidence. The coincidence you carry inside your womb.

You return home, scared and shivering. By the time Astarion notices you are back, you are already crying.

You have no fucking idea how to be a mother. You have no fucking idea how to raise a child. What are you carrying within?

A person? A monstrosity? Your own death?

What creatures are born from vampires?

Astarion is no less shocked.

He pulls away from you, grabbing a fistful of his hair, and swears in Elven.

The healer may be wrong. You can't get pregnant.

And now you feel even more uneasy - what if you were assaulted?Do you have any memory gaps? What if someone used you?

Astarion leaves at sunset, and you stay alone with your fears

He returns in the morning, calm and quiet. Noticing you are still on your feet, he carries you to bed and asks to sleep while he "figures something out."

When you wake up in the late evening, Astarion has a sudden mood change

He is happy. He smiles. He pulls you to himself, placing a hand on your flat belly.

Then you notice a stack of books.

Dhampirs. Children of mortals and vampires. With insanely long lifespans, immunity for vampirism, and living beating hearts.

"You see. That's what we are going to have".

You slowly start adapting to your new condition,

The child grows fast, and your body changes. Breasts get a bit bigger, and you can't wear your light armor anymore (it is suddenly too small). You are constantly tired and hungry.

Even the most innocent teases from Astarion make you cry - and he panics every time it happens.

He has no idea how to handle a pregnant woman.

You quarrel. Constantly. Because you are both scared to death.

What is worse, Astarion has a serious regress. There are nightmares and self-harm tendencies. He runs away to the woods or the Underdark tunnels at least once a week, and you lash at him for leaving you alone every time he gets back.

Besides, it's his fault he didn't stop drinking blood that night

You have nightmares, too.

You envision a monster growing within you that will gnaw through your flesh any time soon.

And yes, women die in childbirth. Even if before that, they'd challenged the fucking gods!

One day, Astarion puts his head on your belly

He caresses it and whispers something in Elven.

"I hear the heartbeat," he says, eyes teary. "I hear our child's heartbeat!"

From that moment, everything changes,

He no longer goes away. He helps you bathe and dress. Brings everything you ask for and ensure you are comfortable sitting and walking. He prepares the place for the child (ignoring a very rational fear that either you or the child dies)

And he sews. He makes the set of clothes for the newborn, embroidering it with protective Elven runes.

Sometimes you both relax enough to discuss the future.

The day of birth comes much earlier than you expect. Almost a month earlier.

The midwife, perfectly knowing the father's nature, pushed Astarion out of the room.

And he spends a few hours helpless and desperate, hearing your cries of pain. If it was the night, he could at least go outside, but, as it happens, it's a sunny day.

He hates himself for doing this to you.

And as for you, you had no idea it could be so painful.

Finally, Astarion has enough and returns to you, kneeling beside the bed

The moment you see him, you grasp his hand as if you are drowning

And then it's all over.

A squeal, desperate and angry, rings out through the room, and you see a newborn in the midwife's hands.

A tiny girl with long pointy ears is placed in your hands. Not a monster. She isn't deformed. Just a baby. Who is very angry with the fact she's been pushed out from the warm womb to this cruel and unpredictable world.

Astarion can't believe what exactly he sees.

He has a child. He has a daughter. The most normal thing anyone can think of is now a reality for him, someone who once had to get out of his own grave.

Then you give the newborn girl to Astarion, and the moment he takes her, he bursts into tears, pressing the child against his chest.

The girl doesn't cry anymore, piercing Astarion with her dark eyes.

You, still tired and in pain, drink the healing potion left by the midwife and you look up at Astarion.

He notices your gaze and kisses you.

"My love, thank you. This is a gift", he whispers through the tears.

Tag list:

@tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster @astarionsbeloved @lumienyx @fayeriess @aoirohi @elora-the-slutty-songstress @veillsar @astarion-imagine-archive @micropoe10 @starlight-ipomoea @herstxrgirl @theearthsfinalconfession @ashrio20 @not-so-lost-after-all @vixstarria

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion romance #bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion headcanon #baldurs gate 3 #astarion headcanons #astarion x tav #astarion x f!tav #dadstarion #astarion being a dad #tav x astarion #spacebarbarian headcanon

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buccini555 · 7 months

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𝐓𝐨𝐤𝐲𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬: 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲

₊˚ ໑ 𝟎.𝟏 : 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬: 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲

₊˚ ໑ : You found out you were pregnant, but were afraid to tell them, but they ended up finding out

₊˚ ໑ : H e a d c a n o n s !

₊˚ ໑ : 𝑭𝒕. Izana Kurokawa, Hanma Shuji, Kisaki Tetta, Taiju Shiba and Inui Seishu

tw: pregnancy, unplanned pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, daddy issues, mention of abandonment, angst, fluff, sensitive topics and I think that's all?

𝐈𝐳𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚

Izana definitely wouldn't take long to find out, at first he didn't even want to accept that fact, but little by little the idea entered his mind.

"Isn't there anything you wanted to tell me? Don't lie to me, I'll just ask once." He questioned while caressing his face, Izana was never as affectionate as she was being at that very moment, even so, you just looked away and shook your head, denying the fact that you were hiding something.

"... You don't need to be afraid to tell me, I already know everything, you shouldn't underestimate me, you know that." In a calm and subtle tone of voice, he began to speak again, giving you a small, still awkward hug.

"I'm sorry for hiding this from you Izana..." You said, still fearing for Izana's reaction, even though he seemed so calm, his mood changed every second.

"I promise I'll be the father I never had the chance to have, thank you for giving me the greatest gift I could ever receive." Izana hugged you with even more desire, but being completely careful, he said in a few words, not being able to contain himself from giving a subtle smile despite still being insecure about the unexpected news.

𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐦𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐣𝐢

He would notice your change in behavior almost immediately, Hanma despite not seeming to care much, pays attention to each of your customs and ways, Hanma suspected your pregnancy as soon as you started to feel sick.

"What the fuck is happening to you? Did you eat somethin-" Hanma looked at you, still without completing his speech, he seemed to have come to his senses at that very moment, anyway, it wouldn't take long for him to find out.

"Baby... Are you pregnant? Fuck..." His tone of voice changed instantly, the taller one seemed distressed by such a thought, as soon as you found the courage, you just nodded.

"It's okay, don't cry, do you really think I'm going to leave you and my son? I would think so too, but I won't." Unexpectedly, Hanma gave you a hug, he was clearly a little nervous, but he tried to be as cool as possible.

"...I know I'll never be the right guy for you, but thank you for giving me a family." He said, still hugging you, completely losing his tough guy attitude.

𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐢 𝐓𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐚

Kisaki realized it even before you showed any symptoms, he was always attentive to each of your behaviors and knew your body like no one else.

"Are you really going to keep lying to me and say you're not hiding something?" Kisaki questioned you in a completely threatening tone, making you afraid of your reaction, knowing that there was no point in lying, you just told the truth.

He was completely silent for a brief moment, trying to hide the sea in his eyes.

"... I'm sorry... I don't know how to react to such news." Kisaki gave you a light hug, stroking your hair gently and giving you great relief.

"I hope I don't fail as a father either, I sincerely hope to be the best father to our baby, I'm sorry if I can't be enough!" It was the last thing Kisaki managed to say before he started crying like you had never seen him before.

𝐓𝐚𝐢𝐣𝐮 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐚

It would take Taiju a while to notice, but once he noticed the changes in your behavior, he was sure to discover the fact that you were pregnant.

"Lying to me?" He questioned, holding your arm less tightly than he usually did and looking you straight into your eyes with a reproachful look.

"N-no." You responded in a brief speech, fearing for the taller man's reaction at that moment, knowing that he would not stop being aggressive towards you even though you were pregnant.

"I believe that having a child would be one of the greatest blessings I could receive, one day I will be a great father, I'm sure of it!" Taiju said shortly afterwards, pausing his speech.

When you finally felt relief upon hearing Taiju speak, without expecting it you just heard him say the cruelest thing he could.

"I will be a good father, but not now! Get rid of this mistake, you better obey me." That was all he said before leaving.

𝐈𝐧𝐮𝐢 𝐒𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐮

Inupi was always extremely careful with you, noticing the change in his behavior made him fully aware of your pregnancy, but everything was confirmed the day he saw you feel really bad.

"I-I know it's not something I should ask in such an invasive way, but, are you pregnant?" The taller one asked, holding his hand while you remained lying on top of your bed, as lying was never a good option, you just told the truth.

"I'm sorry..." shaking your head in affirmation, you replied, noticing the complete silence on Inui's part.

"Y-you should have told me before, I... I don't think I've ever felt so happy in my entire life!" Seishu definitely didn't show feelings easily, but he really tried hard, making you feel relieved at his reaction.

"Don't make your mother sick, we have to take care of her together." He said, resting his head on your belly and giving you small caresses.

"I'm sure that you, me and our baby will be happy together, I will do my best for us, our little family." Still with a smile, he said again.

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shysuccubusstuff · 1 month

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itto's special days:

Content: Female reader (so female anatomy), size kink, heat, breeding kink.

Note: I'm still trying to learn how to write more gender neutral stuff but I always end up making it so difficult to imagine any other thing :(( I'm sorry for those that do not read this type of content! This is kinda messy, so any suggestions are abs valid! This is not revised so there may be grammar issues or simiar stuff :(

Itto is always so naive and innocent that it is no surprise that when you finally get enough courage to ask him out, he doesn't even think about it, quickly saying yes to your confession despite the surprised looks of the gang.

The first days are just the same as before you and him were partners, running around Inazuma having fun while avoiding that Itto got in trouble in any type of way. At first it was fun, at least you didn't have to endure that ankward phase during the first period of time when the couple has recently begin, but you desired for both of you to get some alone time, so you finally decided to talk it with the rest of the gang (except itto), they all quickly agreed, even apologizing for not being able to read the room, so they decided to give you a few days for you to spend time with him.

The next morning you woke up, losing no time to get to itto's home, he was still slept when you arrived, so you entered, he was still laying in bed, sheets tangled around his legs and body, mouth slightly open and messy hair pointing all directions. You let a small laugh out, he looked so cute and goofy at the same time, as if he had heared you, his body suddenly moved, the sheets allowing you to see his whole chest exposed, his muscles flexing as he moved, why was it getting kind of...perverted?

You decided to leave him be, going to buy a few ingredients to make him something to eat as some kind of loving act, but when you arrived everything went downhill...

Itto was in his bed still, but now he was completely awaken, body sweating buckets, hair sticking to his body, the sheets were laying on the floor and itto kept on moving in his bed, you quickly left the ingredients and sat close to him, putting your hands on his forehead, his temperature was so high that it was almost scary.

"Hey Itto, are you ok?" You asked, your voice a little shacky from the tense moment, he slowly turned, eyes foggy and dilatated pupils.

"Hey... oh uhm... yeah, just kinda... sick? I think I caugh something last night after throwing myself into the sea... not a good idea, I should have listened to you all" He chuckled a little, trying to turn around in the bed, the sheets were still tangled around his body, so he was unable to completely move. You got close to him, helping him to move around and acommodating the sheets so he had no trouble moving. He smiled softly, not talking as much as he did the rest of days.

"Compadre, you should not come here, it would be real bad if you got sick you know? I'm a strong oni, so of course I have no issue with some little cold--" Just as he said that, he almost faded, eyes completely unfocused and a lost expression.

"Itto, you're definitly not good by yourself, just wait a moment, I'll go buy some medicine!" You were about to leave the room, but he quickly grabbed you, his hand feeling extremely hot, his grip was strong, but he quickly weakened it as soon as he realized how much pressure he had made on your small wrist (at least compared to her big hand).

"Could you...stay with me? I mean, I think I'm feeling a lil' better since you came..." Itto's eyes looked almost like the ones of a puppy, big and teary eyes, you were perhaps way too enchanted with him to realize how Itto's marks (the ones that surrounded all of his body) were starting to get... larger? Their colour was changing to a darker tone of red, even his horns were a little bigger than usual. You allowed him to push you closer to him, perhaps way too close for what you were used to be. He let you stay there, maybe too far from him as he would like, but he was not as sick as to not realize how tense you were. So he tried to hide it, his raging erection hurting a little under the sheets, almost making him cry everytime his member made any type of contact against the fabric. He tried to hard to control himself, you had started to go out not long time ago, so of course he couldn't just jump on top of you, taking you right there and now! That was until you decided to get (way too) close to him, your hand caressing his forehead, your other hand supporting yourself on his chest, the clothes that you were wearing allowed him to catch a small glimpse of your chest, his mind getting even more foggy just from imagining how he wanted to take you from the hips and kiss that beautiful skin that was making him lose the little sanity he had left. So he just did, he suddenly moved, his big hands surrounding your hips, he took your whole body as if you were made of the lightest material and put you on top of him, his erection pushing against your butt, his hand running against your clothing.

"Hey... I'm so sorry baby, I... I think my uh... my oni nature is kind of awaking?... Grandma told me a little about it but I never paid too much attention cause... you know, I'm the great Itto, of course I was not going to fall for some dumb inherent thing, you know?... My...my mind is so dizzy right now, it's just like that time when the gang tried to celebrate by drinking so much sake..." He tried to speak, his words sometimes mumbled rather than spoken. You tried to pay attention to his words, you really tried, but the feeling of both his member against your lower half and how there was a lingering sweet smell surrounding the air made it so difficult, you were also starting to feel light-headed.

"Do you...do you think you can help me, baby? Please...I'll promise I'll control it better next time, but my...thing is hurting so bad, will you help me please? Pretty please, I'm sure your cute little womb can help me, yeah?" His fangs were bigger, somehow resembling more the ones that onis tended to have in paintings. You silently nodded, your body was in flames and your head was not that able to make cohesive sentences. Just as soon as he saw you nod, he quickly got on top of you, uncovering his completely naked body, his muscles were shiny from the sweat that was running down his whole body, he lost no time, his hands pulling from your clothes and somehow breaking all the clothes that were getting in the way of what he wanted so badly. There you were, under him, your body was completely naked, you tried to hide it a little, kind of ashamed as it was the first time that he had seen you completely naked, but he quickly took your hands, putting each on the sides of your head and kissing your lips, you were able to feel his raging erection on your stomach.

"I'm sorry... I don't think I'll be able to keep it any longer, but I promise it won't hurt, the oni heat is able to cause some kind of fake heat on normal humans..." Despite the whole situation, Itto was still as innocent as always, always caring about the people he loved and trying to avoid hurting them as much as possible. He positioned his length and slowly inserted, letting a deep groan when he finally put his whole thing inside of you, he was making you feel stuffed, almost making you cry from the overstimulation.

Without losing any more time, he took your body, letting your legs be wrapped around his torso and moving his hips as if he was only able to chase his own release, the whole bedroom was surrounded with dirty sounds, from moans to slaps that formed from the contact of your bodies. Your slick allowed him to move as fast as he wanted, his hands still intertwined with yours, his mind was completly lost at that point, only being able to hear small beggings and pleas from him "Baby... i love you so much... i love you i love you... let me fill you up... let me get that pretty pussy filled with my seed... i'll be such a good father... god, you're taking me so good... i'm sorry i'm sorry... i'm being so rough with you... but I don't think I would be able to stop even if I wanted..." You were able to feel how his member started to twitch, so you knew he was close to releasing himself, he suddenly moved you, he was still on top of you but you were somehow able to see his whole chest and face on top of you, your brain had turned into mush by the moment you were able to hear Itto babble something "Gonna cum, gonna make you a mommy... God you're so pretty... so pretty baby..." Just as soon as you felt his seed filling your womb, he kissed your neck, leaving bitting marks all over it and then kissing your lips, your body becoming limp as soon as he filled you, almost feeling as if your tummy had also been filled.

Just as you were about to fall asleep, he took you in between his arms, your bodies still sticky from all the "exercise" you both had done. "I uh...kinda went overboard there... I swear that as soon as I gain some strength in my legs i'll go running to get you something... I'm sorry for being so rough baby... My mind kind of... blacked out?" He peppered some kisses all over your face, cleaning some of the salive that fell from your lips during the whole thing. He put you on top of his chest, being able to hear his rapid heartbeat against your ear, making you quickly doze off.

#arataki itto #itto smut #itto x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact headcanons #x reader #smut #female rea #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin imagines #genshin itto

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adventuringblind · 1 month

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White Clover

Oscar Piastri x Reader x Max Verstappen

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Summary: Childhood crushes are normal. Max has been racing for a while now, he's a world champion, it's only natural they would look up to him. It wasn't supposed to go this far...

Warnings: Hanahaki disease, authors limited knowledge of flower language, sickness, Oscar and Reader literally deteriorating, blood,

Notes: One of my favorite tropes! I hope le requester likes it! Hoping to get some loscar comfort out soon!

Side Note: Reader drives for Aston Martin in place of Lance

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

It really doesn't make sense in her head. Every time she tries to rationalize it, the answers come up even more ridiculous then the last.

It's always been her and Oscar, Chasing their dream together. It was meant to be, it had to be destiny with the way the two of them fit together so naturally.

Then Max Verstappen happened. A supposed childhood crush. Then a hero they looked up to. Then a rival in their sport. It was supposed to end with that.

Her and Oscar and their weird fascination with Max Verstappen.

Then there was a shift. Suddenly Max was acknowledging their existence. He was talking to them, giving them pointers, including them in the usual playful Max like banter. Their mutually discussed respect for Max turned into a full blown crush.

Not a small crush either. The kind that has them both fumbling around him.

Lando is no help either. He picks up on it immediately. Teases them about it relentlessly.

They are sitting in Oscar's driver room when it happens. The first of many coughing fits as Lando is trying to cheer them up. Because Max is with Kelly; It would never work. They don't even know if he would be into it.

She starts it. Hacking up a storm and Lando and Oscar trying to get her to take water. Oscar starts up a minute later.

The cough up white clovers. Small ones, but a handful.

Lando looks at them sympathetically. All three to in shock to say anything.

"There is no way this is real, right?"

~~~~~~

It is, in fact, very real. The tiny white clovers continue for about a month. Frequently enough that when their helmets come off, they tumble onto the ground.

Being around max makes it better. The ache in their chests lessens enough to breath deeply again.

Then it switched on them. Gone were the little white clovers. Now there were bigger pink camellias. A longing for Max that they didn't know they had.

They lay in bed for most of the winter break. The toll this stupid disease is having doesn't feel fair.

Both of them stare at their breakfast. Neither wanting to eat knowing it'll be a waste.

"We're not going to be able to hold out for much longer..." She trails. Both of them know what's going to happen sooner or later, but losing the memories they do have feels worse.

Oscar sighs, having weighed the options on numerous occasions. "Lets give it until Australia. My mum knows a doctor who'd be willing to do it privately and make sure it doesn't get out."

"Will she make us food while we recover too?"

"I highly doubt she'll let us move until we're cleared."

~~~~~~

Pre-season testing - for lack of a better phrase - fucking sucks. They've moved onto red roses. The thorny kind that catches in their throats. She didn't realize it until she was coughing in the car again and it burned more then normal.

She hustles her car into the pits and stumbles her way through the garage until she can't keep herself up anymore.

The stem that comes up with the full rose is speckled with thorns that catch on things as she pulls it out.

She's so lost in trying to get it out, that she didn't notice who had come in. A hand rubs her back and moves any loose hairs away from her face.

The drops of blood mixed with bile causes the panic to finally set in. Her body gives out, but her teammate is there to get her sitting upright.

"Do I want to know who it is?"

"Just need Osc, please."

Fernando leaves to track down Oscar and ends up coming back with both McLaren drivers in tow. The Aussie doesn't look like he's fairing any better then herself. Paler than usual and still coughing.

"If Max doesn't get his act together then I'm going to run him off at turn one." Lando, their self designated caretaker, sets about getting her cleaned up since Oscar look seconds away from passing out.

"He doesn't have to, not like Max would want us anyway-"

"Oscar Jack Piastri, I swear if I have to listen to anymore of your self-loathing I will tell Max myself." Since when did Lando become a mom? "Plus, he does. He won't shut-up about you two. Daniel is losing his shit and begging him to just end it with Kelly if he adores you two so much!"

Fernando ends up driving them back to the hotel.

~~~~~

Being in Australia with Oscar has always been something to look forward to. This time feel more like dread and guilt.

Telling their teams had been the easiest part. The off week after Australia will be for recovery. It almost made her cry with how supporting they were.

They just have to get through the weekend now... and hopefully avoid Max in the process. The harder part of this whole thing. Specifically when he won't leave them alone.

It's during the drivers parade that everything goes downhill. They are standing in Max's vicinity, Landing becoming a wall between them and Fernando keeping him occupied. It's helping ease the weight in their chests and burning in their throats.

Max, inevitably, makes his way over to them and starts up conversation. Only it doesn't make the pain better this time. The second he starts up conversation she feels the rose blooming in her lungs.

"How have you two been?" Max is awkwardly stammering his way through pleasantries with Oscar while she chokes back her coughs. She throws Lando a pleading look, trying to get him to understand what's happening.

"Doing pretty well, you?" She can hear the strain in Oscar's voice, but he's holding it together. Unlike her, apparently.

She stays silent the rest of the parade. Unable to tune into the rest of the conversation.

Her physio is there waiting for her when she gets back to the garage. The amount of blood she loses is concerning. The bundle of roses makes her want to scream.

Something isn't right. Her body is screaming at her not to move. The flowers refusing to stop.

She doesn't know how Oscar manages to finish the race. He looks miserable when he meets her at the car. Lando has an arm slung around his shoulders to keep him upright.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk to Max first?"

"What would we even say, Lan? That he's the reason we're dying?" Oscar slides into the back with her. Nicole sits in the drivers seat and Chris on the passenger side. They get sympathetic looks from both of them.

"I mean he broke up with Kelly-"

"Lando, we appreciate what you're doing but it's to late for this. We are knocking on deaths door and we'll still have each other. We'll be okay." She tries her best to comfort the worries Brit.

"Promise."

"Pinky."

The car ride is painfully silent. Not like either of them can talk anyway. It's just her and Oscar wrapped around each other as much as they can be.

They enter the hospital with fingers intertwined. They sit together in a private room waiting for the pre-op to start. A hard decision but one they know had to be made.

"Is it bad, that I don't want to forget?" She peers up at Oscar through watery eyes.

He sighs, the heavy kind followed by another cough. "No, I don't want to either."

She feels like falling asleep in Oscar's arms. Pretending that this isn't what's happening. That she's not growing flower bushes in her body. That she'll remember Max when she wakes up in a few hours.

"At least we get the next week off."

"Nando said he's going to drop some kind of care package off later." She laughs, remembering how he'd fussed over them with homemade remedies. "And Mark, I thought he was going to lose it when you handed him a rose."

"The look on his face was priceless!"

They can do this. They have each other and that's all they need.

Then the door bursts open.

"Max?"

~~~~~~

It's not like he thought he would ever find himself in this situation. Smitten with two of the younger drivers and driving himself insane by not confronting his own feelings.

He tried his best to just be friendly and leave it at that. He invited them to do things with the other drivers, struck up conversation, did his best to give them tips for their driving when he had the opportunity.

But the two of them have Max wrapped around their fingers. Both are smart and intuitive. They think he's funny. Max also thinks they are funny and compliment each other well.

This cannot be a normal kind of attraction... Right? No, it's not. It's the whole reason he had to split with Kelly because he knew this went much deeper then he wanted to admit.

The last minute driver change took him off guard. Then he saw Oscar on the grid talking to Lance. The Aussie looking miserable and on the brink of falling over.

He jogs up to Lando, concern lacing his facial expression. "What's going on? Why the last minute driver change?"

"She's sick." Lando doesn't look at him, anxiously fiddling with his fingers while getting ready. "She's been sick so they had a contingency just in case."

"And Oscar?"

"... Also sick."

Obviously Lando isn't telling the whole truth. If the lack of details is anything to go by. "Are you going to tell me with what?"

And Lando is a terrible liar. Max has known him long enough to read his expressions. "The flu?" Max raises his eyebrows in suspicion. "Okay but if i tell you then you can't say anything because it's really bad."

Max gives him a confirming nod. Not like he wants to spread gossip about the two.

"It's hanahaki, but they should be better soon. Surgery is after the race today. She's our due to blood loss and Oscar is nearing that point but determined to race."

Max gapes. What is his reaction supposed to be? "Do they not love each other?"

Lando rolls his eyes. "Max - there is a third that they are both in love with."

"Who is it because I swear-" Maybe anger wasn't the right emotion to have given Lando's annoyed huff.

"It's you! You're just so oblivious that you didn't notice. You were with Kelly so long and they didn't want to make things weird for you that they didn't say anything."

Max gets two steps towards Oscar before he's being shoved into the car. Forced to race despite being able to fix the problems of two people. He’ll just find them afterward.

He, unfortunately, does not escape the people wanting to speak to him. By the time he ends up at the McLaren garage, Lando looks miserable sitting on a counter and swinging his legs. “You just missed them.”

Max deflates to the floor. It looks obnoxiously dramatic and leaves Lando to huff at the scene. “Relax, you can catch them at the hospital if you’re quick enough.”

Lando ends up driving because he’s in no state to do it himself. The anxiety he’d been fighting off is hitting full force now. Enough to make his entire body shake.

He dives out of the car. Disregarding the fact that the sleeves of his race suit are hanging off his waist and nearly collides with the ground because of it.

Oscar’s parents are in the waiting room. They look at him with the most aghast looks he has ever seen. “What are you doing here?” The death glare Nicole is giving him strikes fear into his heart.

“I need to know where they are, please.”

“Now you want to see them?”

Chris puts a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “They are getting prepped for surgery at the moment. You might be too late.” He gives Max a sympathetic smile.

“Please-“ desperation is evident in his voice. “-please, I love them back. I have to try!”

He gets the room number and continues his sprint to the pair. The weight of possibilities comes crashing down on him, that they might not remember him if he is too late.

Times he went to them when he didn’t want to be alone.

When he sought them out at the bars and clubs when Lando subsequently ditched them.

Dragging them around Monaco when they were there for the Grand Prix.

Max should’ve made himself think about it. How he spent hours with them when he didn’t have to.

He doesn’t bother knocking on the door when he gets there. He slams the door open wide and almost sobs in relief when he sees them still waiting.

While her face is buried in Oscars shoulder, the Aussie is staring right at him. “Max?”

He takes a tentative step forward but stops when they both start violently coughing. “Sorry - I’ll stay over here.”

“What ever are you doing here?” The rasp is her voice makes him flinch. It’s scratchy, like her throat has been torn to pieces.

“I just - Lando told me what’s been going owns I know it’s not fair that I’ve made you suffer for so long.” He wants to get closer, hold them, provide them comfort. “It took me too long to get my shit together but, I love you both.”

Oscar tentatively tries to get up, the female not able to move without falling over and the Aussie in no position to carry her. Max lunges forward to catch him when he stumbles and down to the floor they go.

Max attempts to get him back up, but isn’t fast enough when the female slides down to join them. They end up falling asleep against him, breathing evenly.

They stir when the doctor announces himself, but don’t move from their spots. Max assumes that they are exhausted from coughing up literal flowers.

“This was not what I expected to find.” There is an amused tone in the doctor’s voice. “I take it you were the one?”

“Yeah, that would be me.”

“Well, we’ll keep them for observation and make sure any lingering thorns don’t do anymore damage. Would you be alright saying near them?”

Max nods hastily, eager to do whatever is necessary.

The hardest part is actually getting them to let go of him. The second he retracts contact is the moment they start panicking and coughing again. It’s a stressful few hours until it dies down again.

Nicole and Chris look ecstatic to see the three of them together. They’ve informed her parents about the change in plans and are also happy to know they’ve had a good outcome.

The residual flower petals come in waves, but they are dying down in intensity. The painkillers they are on make them wake up with dopey smiles on their faces.

“Hey Max?” She whispers. The three of them laying in the hospital bed together despite it being cramped and having a second one.

“Hmm?”

“Thanks…” The drowsiness in her voice evident.

“For what?”

Oscar is somewhere between asleep and maybe consciouses. “For noticing us.”

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cowboydisaster · 8 months

Note

could you write a fic about simon and a reader who is going through withdrawals? Sorry if that's not real specific, you can take it in what ever direction you please. Thank you

Hope

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem! reader word count: 2k summary: Simon helps you get through withdrawals, offering you hope in the darkest point of your life. a/n: heed the warnings please!!!! I cried a good bit while writing this. You're never alone my friends, and there is always hope. Always. (p.s. there is a mention of wanting children in this fic, so keep that in mind. p.p.s why does tumblr destroy my image quality, it makes me sad.) warnings: opioid addiction, withdrawals, addiction, emetophobia, illness masterlist

"Si-Simon, I can't do this. I'm n-not strong enough." You whimper, clammy hands gripping onto his shirt with every pathetic ounce of strength that you can muster. Your voice is hoarse, throat thick with mucus and body covered in a stale cold sweat that soaks through your oversized t-shirt. Simon has never seen you so weak, so frail in his arms.

He's seen you take down men twice your size, clear rooms with more than ten enemies. You've faced countless opponents, broken through endless physical and mental barriers, but in the end, the one thing you couldn't defeat was the pills.

If you'd known you were trading your life away when you were handed the bottle, you never would have taken it in the first place.

"For the pain." The doctor had said, "Just until this gunshot wound clears up."

Only it didn't. Before you even realized it, your body was already addicted. You craved the numbness that the damned capsules gave you, the release from the endless pain that singed your nerves day and night. You couldn't give them up. You tried– but the sickness that came when you stopped– you were sure it would kill you.

Simon didn't know what to do. You lied, you kept him at a distance, never fully explaining to him what was going on. He didn't realize how bad it was. He tried not to pry, or to push you, but Simon put his foot down when he found you on the bathroom floor unconscious, a bottle of pills on the counter, half empty. His words reverberated in your ears, a harsh warning that he wouldn't watch you kill yourself.

"You have to get clean, Y/N." He'd said from a place of love, but you couldn't help but crumble under his judgment, "I can't watch you do this to yourself anymore. You 'ave to sober up."

So here you are, a heap in Simon's lap, the both of you intertwined on the bathroom floor as you fight the overwhelming illness that accompanies withdrawals. Everything you've survived: loss, wounds, torture– it pales in comparison to the misery you're experiencing now. You refused to go to a detox center, not wanting to lose your position in the Task Force. You promised Simon that you'd let him drive you to the hospital if things got bad, but you want to do this at home.

Bile rises from your stomach, lingering in the back of your throat as you gag. Immediately, Simon pulls your hair back into his fist, and helps to position you over the toilet.

You dry heave, gagging on air as both of your cold hands grip the toilet bowl. Your wedding band glints in the dim bathroom light, bringing another layer of anguish to your already broken soul.

He shouldn't have to deal with this.

"Easy, love. Get it all out. I've got you." Simon coos as your stomach aches and flips, desperate to rid itself of any contents. Only you haven't been able to eat, so nothing comes up but painful bursts of air. You gasp and heave, collapsing back against Simon and erupting into loud sobs. Your bones ache as you fall onto his chest, and his hands hover over your form, unsure on how to hold you without shattering you even further.

"I can't– I can't! Simon, please! Please. I'm going to die. M' gonna die–" You panic, "I'm not strong enough. You know that I'm not." You plead, begging for the substance that he has already flushed down the drain, your mind refuses to believe that it's actually gone.

Simon's previously unbreakable heart manages to crack, and he wishes more than anything to carry the burden of your suffering. You're his wife, and it's his job to take the weight off your shoulders, but he can't do this for you. He can, however, be with you every step of the way. You showed him a new way of living, a way to do more than just survive. You've shown him love when he was undeserving of it. It's unbearable for him to see you, such a beam of light, in so much pain.

"Look at me, baby. Look at me." Simon holds your face until your eyes meet his. Those chestnut colored irises hold your attention– the same ones you looked into as you read your vows, as you suffered pain, and loss, felt love and lust. They've watched after you through everything.

"You can do this, yeah? You're the strongest person I know. Stronger than any other soldier in the Task Force, stronger than me. If anyone can beat this, it's you." Simon reassures.

Your face crumples when you realize he's firm in his decision. You shake your head, clammy palms coming to rest against your face.

"Please, Simon." You beg once again. Your body is trembling like a leaf held against the wind, cold wraps around your bones suffocatingly, squeezing every ounce of comfort from your being and leaving you high and dry. Pure, unadulterated suffering.

"Come 'ere." Simon whispers, standing up from the tile floor and scooping you into his arms. He hooks his arms under your head and knees before carrying you into the bedroom.

The soft bed dips under your shared weight as Simon lays down with you, his body wrapping around your own like a perfect puzzle piece. He pulls your back to his chest, letting you use his tattooed arm as a pillow. Your sobs quiet down to muffled whimpers as you shake lightly, wishing you could go back in time, solve this before it became a problem.

Father time has never been merciful though, has he?

"Blanket or no?" Simon asks. You nod your head quickly.

"Yes, it's so cold. I'm so cold." Your teeth chatter lightly as you reiterate. Simon pulls the thick comforter over your forms, tucking it in around the edges as he adjusts behind you.

An hour ago you were burning up, stripping off your clothes and sobbing at the heat clawing its way through your body like some sort of fiery plague. He'd put you in a cool bath, checking your temperature probably more often than what was necessary.

You shake and writhe, whimpers and groans of agony slipping past your lips every once in a while. It's killing Simon to see you like this. Every ounce of light has drained from your eyes, the life has seeped from your pores, replaced with the lingering disease of addiction. He misses your laughter, your smile. It could light up a room. You've gotten the boys through many dark days. You were the sunshine of the Task Force. Failed missions, loss, heartache, no matter how bad things got, your optimism never ceased. Not until recently, anyhow.

"We'll get there again." Simon tells himself like a mantra in his head,"She'll get better."

He's personally seeing that you do. He won't allow you the pills to take hold of you, he'll fight. He's seen more soldiers die from pills than bullets. He won't let you meet that fate, he won't.

He can't lose you.

The room is covered with a calm silence, only the sound of your quick breathing to let him know you're still alive. Simon is quiet as well, and you drown in the silence, hoping for any kind of distraction to pull you away from your unending misery. You can feel yourself giving up, wanting nothing more than to slip into old habits. You slip your eyes shut, opening them only once a voice rumbles in your ear.

"I was thinking… when you're better we'll get a bigger house." Simon quietly blurts out from behind you.

A wrinkle forms in between your brows, and you crane your neck to look at him. You're sure he's trying to distract you, coming up with random conversation to keep your mind off of the present. When you look back, his gaze is far away, fixed on something on the far wall. A small smile graces his uncovered lips– he's been keeping the mask off at home recently, you've noticed. There is a light in his eyes, a light that you used to think would never grace the eyes of Simon Riley.

"What? Why would we need a bigger house?" You ask with a small chuckle. He's succeeding in his distraction, you realize.

His eyes flicker down to yours, hand gripping onto your waist as you turn towards him in curiosity. Your eyelids are heavy, another wave of exhaustion coming over you.

"For the little ones." Simon responds.

He says it on a breath. He says it so plainly, so effortlessly, that tears immediately well in your eyes. He's never responded to your questions about children– usually shutting down or ignoring the topic wholly. Your lip wobbles, and he runs his thumb over the cracked skin.

"Ch-children?" You ask, a new sense of hope filling your being. A new reason to fight– to get clean. Children. A family.

"A girl, with your eyes…" Simon chuckles, "Probably with your attitude too."

You laugh at that, tears slipping down your cheeks in landing on his hand that cups your face.

"Maybe a boy. Hopefully he gets your features n' not my ugly mug." Simon huffs.

"What changed…?" You ask, wincing as a wave of nausea pulses through your body. Simon's eyes go wide for a second, and his grip tightens on you, ready in an instant to carry you back into the bathroom if you need. The pain passes and you shake your head, signaling that you're okay. Immediately, he relaxes. It's quiet for a moment as Simon traces his thumb over your paper thin skin.

"A dog, a new house, babies, anything you want. I'll give you anything you want, just get better for me, baby." Simon pleads, a hint of vulnerability tracing his words. It's one of only a few times he's begged you.

"I don't want a future without you in it. I want my wife. I want our kids terrorizing the place, I want to get old and retire the Force with you. Hell, I'd turn in my letter of resignation today if you asked, just please, fight for me, love."

The tears are falling freely now, you don't try to stop them. Guilt fills your being at the realization of everything you've put your husband through for the past few months. Through it all, he's never left your side. He's still here. Kissing closed your wounds, and promising to plant flowers in their place.

A soft kiss is pressed to your forehead before amber eyes peek down at you through blonde eyelashes. You chew on your lip, a bad habit.

Your resolve is set, and even though your body shrieks for the opposite, you'll get through this. You have to.

You have Sunday mornings to look forward to, lazily pouring Simon a cup of tea in his favorite mug. You have a house to buy, with two bedrooms instead of one. Dragging Simon through the shops and picking out all the different onesies he'll let you bring home. You have walks through the park to go on. You have to pick up takeout on Simon's late nights at work. You have to sit on his desk while you share an entree and talk to him until he forgets about the paperwork he's supposed to be doing. So many little actions to go through, little memories to make. You can't give it up. You won't.

There is so much to fight for, so much to hope for, all given to you by the man before you. Tears sting your eyes again as you finally speak up.

"I promise you, Simon. I'll fight. For us, I will."

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon riley #cod x reader #cod x y/n #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #ghost call of duty #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfic #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #cod mw22 #cod mw x reader

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natti-ice · 2 months

Text

Sirius Black Blurb.

Pairing: Sirius Black x slytherin!gn!reader

Warnings: none.

Author’s note: this is a reupload, I wrote this a while ago!

Reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated<3

You couldn't believe this happened, of all people to get stuck with it had to be him. You received detention for accidentally falling asleep in Binns class, why were there so many Goblin rebellions? Now, you were standing in the middle of the woods in mid-November with Sirius Black.

For some reason, Sirius had taken a strong liking to you. You couldn't understand why though, it should be textbook rivalry since you're a Slytherin and he's a Gryffindor but he seems to believe you belong together.

Since term began he has been asking you to go to Hogsmeade, you were taken aback at first because you honestly didn't think he knew who you were. The first time you said no out of pure shock, but you also were afraid it was some sick joke.

Sirius is probably the most attractive boy in the school, you can't walk two feet without hearing some girls talking about his 'beautiful hair' but he also has a reputation. Not in the "heartbreaker" sense but in the "liking to play cruel jokes" sense, you've seen some of the pranks he's pulled around school, and you would not let yourself fall victim.

It was just starting to get cold in Scotland, the air was crisp as it slapped you in the face as you walked deeper into the forest. Sirius was by your side using his wand to guide you two through the dark path. It was just your luck that this week's detention was to gather food for whatever creature Hagrid decided to bring home this year. You never understood how any of those pets were legal.

You left your jacket in your dorm because some third year accidentally spilled her drink on you during dinner and it was completely soaked, it wasn't freezing so you figured you could bare through it but as it got later the wind picked up.

You shivered as another gust of wind hit you, you felt goosebumps forming up and down your arms.

"Take my jacket" Sirius said breaking the silence

"What?" you asked, you didn't realize he was watching you "I'm fine"

"You're cold." He told you, the look in his eyes was telling you to give it up

"Am not." You internally cringed at how juvenile you sounded

"Right" Sirius chuckled, disregarding what you just said Sirius took off his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders before you could refuse again.

You couldn't deny how good it felt, it was so warm and it was a little big so it felt like a giant hug.

"Now you'll be cold," you told him pulling the fabric closer to your body

"Don't worry about me, sweetheart" his voice was smooth and intoxicating

Your heart fluttered at the nickname, "Don't call me that" you said hoping he could hear nerves in your voice

"Did I do something to offend you?" Sirius asked, his tone wasn't telling but he truly cared how you felt about him, he hated that you were so closed off around him

"No" your tone softened

"Then why do you avoid me so much? I feel I must've done something to make you hate me" He laughed painfully

"I don't hate you, Sirius" by this point you two had completely stopped looking for that weird bug you couldn't remember the name of. "I'm just confused"

"About what?"

"The fact that you keep asking me out, I mean out of everyone? Me? Aren't we supposed to be sworn enemies?" You questioned

"Well, if you would've asked me that two years ago I would have said yes," he paused and read your expression before continuing "but that's all so childish now. I like you and I would really like to take you out" a boyish smile played across his lip.

You stayed silent taking in what he just said, as much as you didn't want to admit it you actually wanted to go out with him. You let out a small sigh

"Fine" you say "one date"

"Really?" the moonlight shone just right between the trees so you could see the sparkle in his eye as you finally agreed

"Yes Sirius, I'll go out with you" you fought back a smile but it inevitably won.

Before you knew it your feet had left the ground, Sirius spun you around in the air and then firmly placed you back on the ground. "You won't regret it, I promise" he said with a wide grin

You laughed at his eagerness as you tried to brush away the thought of how nice it felt to be in his arms.

#sirius black x reader #sirius black #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black x gn!reader #sirius black x slytherin!reader #sirius black fluff #marauders x reader #the maruaders

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ikigaisvt · 9 months

Text

Mirror, mirror on the wall...

who is the horniest of them all? (part 2)

in which Jeonghan punishes you for being a brat.

pairing: jeonghan x reader, dom!jeonghan x sub!reader (implied seungcheol x reader?) words count: 1k content: smut warnings: mirror kink, dirty talk, begging, jeonghan is Mean and a menace, teasing, orgasm denial, overstimulation, masturbation (m), use of vibrator (reader), cum, implied future threesome w seungcheol, talk of exhibitionism(?) and they like it, reader has female parts, petnames (for reader: doll, slut/my slut, sweet thing, baby, poor thing, pretty angel / for jeonghan : hannie, baby) note: im sick in the head... MINORS DNI. you will be blocked. i hope everyone else enjoys it tho,, i didn't think i'd be writing smut anytime soon but jeonghan has an unheatlhy grip on me! and ofc i had to make it about seungcheol one way or another... anyway, please reblog and give feebacks. enjoy!

"Doll, look at yourself." Jeonghan demands behind you. Unfortunately (for you, let's be honest) you can't look away from him. He is a sight to behold.

It's like your eyes have been doing a constant up and down through the mirror for the past 10 minutes - since Jeonghan started what he likes to call your punishment (but is it really one?)

You first start to look at his hair, the way it falls down to touch his shoulders or the way it's sticking to his forehead with sweat. Then your eyes quickly fall down to his; they are demanding and strict, and the soft look they usually adorn is long gone. Soon enough, you get lost in his face and his soft features, the way his cheeks are still the cheeks you wanna pinch, his nose is still the nose you wanna bop and his lips is still the lips you wanna kiss. No matter how hard he goes, you will always have a soft spot in your heart for him, you realize.

You move down to his body, his skin looking so soft you almost reach out your hand to touch him through the mirror - he is like a mirage, almost. You feel a whine forming in your throat but you push it down, not wanting to give him any kind of satisfaction.

But truly, you are already gone when you see his cock in the mirror, the tip red and dripping with precum. He's hard and hot, you almost ask to help him - but you know you'll only be turned down. So, you have no choice but to look and look and look at him, his hand going up and down again and again and again, in a perfect rhythm. And you endure the pain of not touching him and the pleasure seeping through your veins as the vibrator goes on and on and on against your clit.

"H-Hannie," you hear yourself whimper, "please-"

"What did I say? Look. At. Yourself." he answers your plea sternly.

And that's when you meet your own gaze in the mirror for a second before looking at your own body. Your eyes are trained on your chest; you are covered in marks and hickeys - just like your lover adores it. You see your hands trying to grab at anything as if it will make the pleasure less intense once you get a grip of something. And shyly, your eyes fall down between your legs; your pussy is leaking with juice, making a mess on the carpet and you can see - and feel the way it's begging for release. As you realize the dirtiness of the whole scene Jeonghan has made for you two, you can't help the moan escaping your mouth.

"Pussy looking so good my slut can't help but moan?" Jeonghan sneers behind you, making your gaze go up in the mirror and meeting his frame sat down at the edge of the bed, his hand still chasing a release.

"Fuck- Jeonghan," you moan again, "Please please please- let me come"

"You have to say sorry first, sweet thing." Jeonghan answers, still showing no sign of struggling.

"S-Sorry?" you ask, confused, "For what?" you say, meeting up his gaze.

"Baby, have I already surrendered you stupid?" he chuckles, "And you still haven't got my dick. Poor thing."

You moan at the idea of getting fucked, you moan so loud it's embarrassing and you wish the members on the other side of the hotel wall can't hear you.

Fuck. Hotel. The members. Seungcheol.

"Fuck I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry-" you voice out, almost like a mantra.

"Oh, you remember now?" Jeonghan sneers behind you, "You remember throwing yourself at Seungcheol? Remember when you sat down next to him and panted at the way his arms looked? The way you almost gasped when he showed you a pic of his tattoo- fuck-" he curses, finally showing signs of wanting a release as much as you.

"I’m so sorry please Hannie- fuck, I’m gonna cum" you say, feeling the wave build up and up.

"Don't you fucking dare." Jeonghan commands, "Hold it off. Don't cum."

"Fuck- yeah okay okay-" you moan out loud.

"I bet you'd like him to hear you, to see you like this, wouldn’t you?" he mocks as you sob, not even hiding the fact that you are so turned on by the thought, "Can't believe I got myself such a slut instead of a pretty angel." he sneers behind you.

"Jeonghan-" you cry, feeling tears fall down on your cheeks.

"Oh, my slut is crying now? What is it, hm?" he asks you in a condescending tone, "Are you crying for him or for me? For his cock or for my cock?"

"F-For you" you manage to answer between two sobs, your voice breaking.

"Yeah? That's a good girl." he praises you for the first time, "Do you wanna come now? Wanna come for me?"

"Yes-" you answer greedily.

"Ask nicely then." he orders, making you work for it.

"Please- Jeonghan, please let me cum? Please I'll be good i promise I'm so sorry please please" you say, not even sure you're making sense anymore.

"Go ahead baby, cum for me."

And you do. Hard. The waves crashes on you again and again and again, never stopping, never taking a break, and you almost feel like you are going to pass out but you breath in and out, just like Jeonghan spent months teaching you - and you make it through the biggest orgasm of your life. You finally open your eyes and you meet Jeonghan’s gaze in the mirror, his stomach covered in cum but his cock still hard and his hand gripping around his tip. That's when you realize the vibrator is still in you, its intense buzzing overstimulating you. You almost feel like you are back to the beginning of the night. Almost.

"Hannie, baby-" you choke out, "I came, you can turn it off."

"You sweet thing, you really thought I’d be making you come only once," he chuckles, "I need to make you admit you want Seungcheol to join us." he states, making you gasp, "Oh and doll, look at yourself." he smirks.

You really are back to the beginning.

thank you so much for reading! please don't forget to reblog, that will make me vry happy hehe

#seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen one shot #seventeen fics #seventeen reactions #seventeen au #svt smut #svt x reader #jeonghan smut #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan one shot #jeonghan fics #jeonghan au #seungcheol smut #sammy's works

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deleteddewewted · 4 months

Text

König Headcanons

A/n: These are just personal hc I have and have been talking to friends about for a while. If you have any of your own please share them!

MDNI

W: Angst, Scars, Mental Health Issues, Bullying, Religoun is mentioned in passing, Trauma, injuries

Commissions: Open! (You can commission/support me on Ko-fi!)

He grew up in a household with only his mother and grandmother. His father left before he was born.

He grew up poor and it led to a lot of issues when he went to school. He would get bullied for both being too tall for his age and for having less than others.

This led to a lot of insecurities, especially about his looks. His nose was broken in middle school by a bully as he was trying to defend himself and it just never healed correctly.

He's always anxious. His heart feels like his heart is going to burst out of his chest. He feels like he's going to die at any time.

He's a brunette. Doesn't care too much about his hair. He kinda just does whatever feels right for the time being. There have been times when he forgets to cut his hair and it gets all the way past his shoulders. (This is not regulation in the military but his mother likes it so he tries to keep it long.)

His favorite season of the year is winter because he got to do things like celebrate the holidays that happened around that time.

His grandmother is Jewish but his mother stopped practicing around her adult years. They still did things like celebrate Hanukkah and light the menorah since his grandmother didn't have anyone other than him and his mother to celebrate with.

He found the flames captivating every time they would light the menorah. Something about the movement of the flames and the brightness of the light kept him entertained. Burned himself by accident because he once tried touching it as a child.

It fascinated him as did the lights his neighbors would hang on their homes to celebrate Christmas.

He never celebrated Christmas, this was mainly because his mother never had enough money to get him gifts like other parents.

He never believed in Santa Claus but he did wish he would have had that innocence to do so. Maybe it would have broken his heart as a child if he did since he wouldn't have gotten any of the things he would have asked for.

As he rented his teen years, his anxiety got worse and so did his depression. He was sick all the time. He's constantly trying to get better but he can't. The bullying got worse as he grew and he started resenting his long hair. (He forgets to take care of himself and his hair.)

Once he was old enough to enlist, he did so without any hesitation. His mother and grandmother tried convincing him to not do it but he wanted to help them get out of the poverty they were in. He wanted his family to have more in life even if it meant sacrificing his body, mind, and soul.

Enlisting was both a saving grace and a downturn in his life.

He finally had money to give to his family and he finally got to have a warm place to go back to but it wasn't home and the friendships he made felt superficial.

His mental health took a greater hit once he started taking on operations. He tried ignoring it and when it didn’t help he started to suffer from sudden panic attacks through the day. It felt like he was trapped in his own skin.

He had to go to therapy or he would be discharged from his position. He was out on medication and given weekly therapy sessions to ensure that he was making progress.

He finally got to celebrate Christmas with others but he still knew that under the communal Christmas tree was no present for him.

The more he worked and the older he got, the more he realized he wasn't sure he knew if this was it for him. He couldn't become a sniper and his only friend was an American he didn't really know all that well.

When he got offered a position at Kortac he was elated. He would gain more money and his talents would be out to use.

It meant he would have to renounce his Austrian citizenship. (He didn't need to though. Kortac took care of everything and he could freely enter the country with no issue.)

He made sure to fully repair the house his family lived in and buy the plot of land that was next to their own in order to expand the house and give his grandmother the garden she had once talked about fondly.

Kortac was an opportunity that he would forever be grateful for.

It gave him friends and allowed relationships to blossom he never thought he would have.

He and Horangi became friends and shared so much of their lives together. He finally had someone he could confide in when it came to his struggles with relationships or his feelings of not being enough.

He grew to look at himself as a victor and less as a wounded dog licking his own wounds.

He no longer winced when he looked at himself in the mirror.

The scar running over his cheek, the crookedness of his nose, the scruff on his cheeks, the grey in his hair, the crow's feet at the corner of his eyes.

Everything about him was now something he embraced.

And now when he gets to celebrate the holidays either at home or on the base, he takes his time to set up the tree and its lights, taking a moment to admire as the multicolored lights glow and shower the space with its joy.

He knows he has a gift under the tree for him and more once he gets home for his scheduled leave.

Once he starts dating he felt like he had to take care of himself more. He didn’t want to burden his partner so he tried developing healthier habits such as washing his face and trimming his hair.

It isn’t until he truly settled down with someone that he starts to let go of some do his insecurities.

He’s still on edge about his partner touching his scars but he’s more conflicted about his anxiety ruining things for him. He didn’t want to come off as possessive or insecure but his anxiety got the best do him at times.

Dreads getting into arguments with his partner. He doesn’t want to fight or argue since he knows that it might lead to something more serious happening.

Enjoys cuddling and holding his partner close. Will either sleep on top of his partner or use his partner as a weighted blanket.

He likes being reassured that he’s enough or that he’s handsome. It makes him blush but he likes hearing it.

#dd speaks #angst konig #cod konig #konig x reader #konig cod #konig mw2 #konig call of duty #call of duty #modern warfare fanfiction

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aerkame · 1 year

Note

Haha, hi *winks at you* (●▪◡<●)ﾉ [please tell me if any of this makes you super duper uncomfy I did read the rules I'm just scared]

Wally Darling x Stressed out! Reader.,.,

[Remember that silly idea you had?! I liked it a lil too much]

The neighbor [us], had a terrible day at work, slamming open the door to their house and [not even thinking twice] immediately falling into the arms of the person who greeted them at the door. Much to their demise, said person is Wally. Wally falls limp upon being hugged, staring down at the reader who freezes once they realize who they came in contact with. They attempt to pull away but Wally.. Being Wally. Holds them in place with a stupid smile.

Twirls my hair, giggles and runs away [I'm so so so so so so sorry if this didn't make any sense imn sorry I leorve yoru writingzzzznbs I'M SORRY PLRASE FORGIVE ME]

I like my original idea as well, I'm hoping to start a full series next week!

________________________________________________________

Today did not go well at all. You had to stay extra hours at work because some group of rowdy teens decided it would be great to come into the library and start messing with the books. One had even decided to start tearing out pages from a kids' study book. The library is probably going to take that one to court, some of those books are expensive to replace and you had to spend hours reorganizing everything that was carelessly thrown across the halls and find missing pages. At least you were finally home though. You stumbled up to the front door dangling the keys in your hand as you tried and failed a few times to properly unlock the door.

You gave a sigh as you heard a distinct 'click' and swung the door open not paying attention to your surroundings and slamming it behind you. Turning towards the closet, you slowly took your shoes off before setting them down neatly inside. Gotta set a good example and keep things clean for your guests, even when you wanted to just throw things around and sleep sometimes...It really was like you just had a bunch of kids out of nowhere. At least Wally and Barnaby were here to help you.

"Welcome home dear host-"

Quickly turning around to whoever was speaking, you leaned over and plopped yourself into their greeting arms. You felt you had fallen into something soft and warm. What a welcomed feeling after today.

"Well that's one way of greeting your guests." Arms snaked around your torso as they hugged you closely. You froze, finally recognizing the voice that's been speaking to you. Slowly looking up, you saw Wally, whose face had a giant grin on it. That was not a welcomed feeling after today.

Quickly trying to pull away, you heard quiet snickering from the side somewhere. You finally managed to pop your head out of his arms, the rest of your body now snuggly wrapped in them. There was Barnaby and Sally sitting there at the dinner table watching you two and giving each other knowing looks. "Awww, looks like someone's a bit of a sleepy head!" Sally smiled as Wally walked passed them not making a single sound.

You were somewhat used to this by now. Usually Wally treated you like some significant other that needed extra care. He would pick you up and tightly hold you for hours while getting chores done in the house with you struggling and kicking until you wore yourself out, tuck you into bed at night or on sick days, paint and draw several portraits of you, make you warm food after work some days (though you wondered how he even learned how to cook), and dance with you late at night on the porch with quiet music playing. Other times the two of you would get lost in deep conversations after a long day of work, it was like he knew you without needing to know you. Wally was always so smug when he did anything though, like he knew it would get on your nerves, which it did at first. But over the past several weeks you grew used to him being coy. You felt too exhausted and stressed out to talk much today though. You didn't feel like doing much of anything really so you just let Wally do whatever he wanted for now.

You pushed against his arms only when he started to squeeze a bit too hard to let him know. He didn't loosen up however and instead made a beeline for your room, quietly opening the door and setting you down on your bed. You moved to get up but a hand came down onto your shoulder to pin you down. "Just stay here...I have something I made for you." He spoke softly for once.

Wally soundlessly walked out of your room and returned with a steaming cup of what looked like tea. You watched him effortlessly balance the cup in one hand as he removed your jacket, slinging it over his open shoulder before bringing a blanket over your legs.

"There! Now isn't that much better?"

For once you didn't see that smug or condescending grin of his. You saw something much warmer in that charming smile. You gave him a nod and gently took the cup out of his hands.

The reader works at a very busy public library for some context.

I've always wanted a job at a library. I don't know if they'd let me work at one though. I wasn't a bad kid, but there was one thing I did steal and that was a book from the library on fossils. I didn't really understand some of the words though when I was 7, but I loved that book either way.

#alive au #au #welcome home alive au #wh #welcome home #welcome home arg #welcome home wally darling x reader #wally darling x reader #x reader #wh wally darling #welcome home wally x reader #fluff #welcome home fanfiction #wh fanfiction #fanfiction #medium post

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webslingingslasher · 2 years

Text

Oh, Baby.

What happens when you realize your period is late and you may or may not be pregant?

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Genre: Fluff/angst

Word Count: 3.1K

Pure terror ran through your body on the way to Peter’s apartment.

Usually it was a slight anxiety, the shaking of your leg in anticipation to see your boy; or the fingertips you tapped on the subway pole when there was no space to sit so your hands were forced to mimic the beat of the music running through your headphones.

Usually you had a half grin, love sick look on your face knowing after the 10 minute train ride you would be in Peter’s room, in his bed with him all over you. He would kiss down your face, and you would push him away after he starts to blow raspberries on your neck.

“Peter,” You would whine, moving your head away while simultaneously pushing lightly at his chest. “Stop, my neck tingles!” It was always the same complaint, the vibration of his lips and warm breath sent chills down your spine while also slightly buzzing a part in your brain that made you squirm far away. Then, Peter would laugh at your reaction like he always does and will give you the same ‘I’m not sorry’ look and say “I’m sorry baby, let me make it up,” and he would pull you into a kiss that left you pushing him off you in a different way.

You would ask him for help with homework and he would walk you through it, sometimes explaining the same thing 4 times but slightly different each way so he could help you understand it the best way possible. He would kiss the tip on your nose, then your eyebrow and say “That’s it baby!” when he looked over your shoulder and watched you do the practice question he wrote down with no help.

You would look over at Peter and have that same exploding love feeling that built up so ferociously that you felt like you were seconds from death if you didn't kiss him, or feel his skin on yours in that moment. And you would kiss Peter, and he would eventually lay you back on his bed and slowly both of you would pull each other's clothes off.

So, usually you couldn’t wait to see him.

But, today you were stoic. No excited foot taps, no headphones in either, the thoughts in your head were loud enough to block out any surrounding sounds. You didn’t even tell Peter you were coming over, scared you would let the reasoning slip. You hated to surprise him with this but you were too. No, blindsided. You were blindsided.

“Hi.” Your words sounded timid. You looked at him in the doorway, eyebrows raised in surprise when he saw you behind the door.

He caught on immediately, “Hi. You okay?”

He pushed the door open and stepped to the side to have you enter. He noticed your silence in regard to his question. You pulled him into a tight hug, your arms wrapped around his middle and you squeezed, your head fully buried into his stomach, if you tried to get a big breath in your air was trapped in the cotton of his shirt. Peter let out a small ‘oof’ before wrapping his own arms around you.

“Hi.” You repeated, you closed your eyes against him. You could feel the tears gathering behind your eyelids.

Peter lent his mouth against the top of your head. He smelled your hair and whispered back, “Hi,” then repeated his question, “Are you alright?”

You gave him a final squeeze and pulled back. His brown doe eyes looked into yours, his eyes told you he was concerned he looked at your face and saw the frown, your eyes looked red, you looked nervous, scared even.

You swallowed hard, “Can we talk?”

Peter let you push him down by his shoulders unto his bed, he kept quiet and gave you his undivided attention. He watched you open your mouth, he could see the frustrated look on your face when you couldn’t form the words you wanted to say. He tilted his head slightly, giving you the ‘It’s okay, it’s just me’ look.

You looked down, not being able to look him in the eye in shame.

“I can’t do this.” You mumbled, trying to find the words.

“Do what?” Peter’s voice had an edge.

“This.” You motioned between the two of you.

“Use your words.” He sat straighter, bracing himself for the blow you were about to deliver.

He watched you as you let a few tears drop. You looked away from him, he shouldn’t have to go through this with you. He was a kid, and so were you. But he had more responsibilities than any other kid you could think of at this age, Spider-Man, being top of the class, juggling friends and May between giving you all the time in the world. He shouldn’t have to deal with this, nor should you. It was unfair.

You shook your head. If you spoke now the dam would break and you wouldn’t be able to say anything.

“Y/N, If you’re going to break up with me I need you to say it.” Peter spoke with authority and your eyes went wide.

“No! No! I’m not-” You dropped off, not even wanting to say the words.

“I’m not- I wouldn’t do that, okay?”

“I just-” You felt the tears coming, you couldn’t stop them. You broke into a sob, “Please don’t be mad at me.” You felt the air leave your lungs, you couldn’t fucking breathe, the room felt like it was closing in and all you wanted was Peter to hug you and tell you it would be okay. Because that’s what Peter did, he never knew what it was but the first instinct was always to say it would be okay because for the better part it usually would.

He pulled you down unto his lab by your hand and pushed you into his chest, letting his heartbeat fall into your ear. He ran a hand down your hair, he felt you sob and rack breaths against his shoulder. He was shushing you before you broke into a loop of half crying and half choking repeating the words “please don’t be mad at me,” and ‘i’m sorry,” over and over.

You noticed it 2 hours ago. It was all because you replaced the toilet paper.

You had gone into your bathroom cabinet looking for the extra toilet paper rolls you kept stashed underneath and you saw your tampon box. You thought, “Huh, I haven’t had my period yet this month.” And shrugged, it was no biggie, a few days late didn’t matter. You weren't on birth control, Peter used condoms and that was fine. You had a scheduled period without it being scheduled, usually it was around the same week each month, but when you actually thought about it you had to ask, ‘Wait. When was my last period?’

The instant panic set in, you looked at your phone calendar. 3 weeks. You were 3 weeks late. It wasn’t a few days, it wasn’t even a week off course. It was a month. You couldn’t be, no way. It happened to people sure, but not you, not Peter. It wasn’t supposed to happen, not like this.

You paced around your room at first in denial. ‘No, I’m not pre- Stop. Don’t even think about that, you’re fine, it’s okay. I’m not-” You looked at your phone, thumb hovering over Peter’s contact name, you almost called him, but settled for an in person meeting.

“I’m not mad, baby, tell me what’s wrong.” His voice was soft and smooth. It was caring, endearing even. It wasn’t fair for him.

“You’re going to hate me.”

He squeezed you. “Stop.” He always hated negative talk.

“Nothing you’re going to say will make me hate you.”

“This time it will.”

“Tell me.” He challenged you.

Your crying settled, you were better now. You were able to form sentences.

“I’m late.” You held your eyes shut, waiting for the explosion.

“For what?” He ran a hand up and down your back, he was soothing you while you were about to drop a bomb on him.

“No, I’m late.” You looked at him in the face. You had to be brave.

Peter looked confused.

“My period is late, Peter.” You spoke each word independently scared you would spew the words out so fast he would make you repeat them.

He took a deep breath in.

“Okay.”

“A month late, Peter.”

He nodded his head.

“Okay.”

He had to be strong right now, he might be slightly panicking on the inside but clearly you were the more upset one and it wouldn’t be good for both of you to be freaking out.

“Do you think you’re pregn-”

“Stop.” You cut him off.

“Don’t say it.”

He closed his mouth and tried to find his way around the question.

“Do you think you might be?” You both were not to say the P word.

“I don’t know.” Your words broke, the tears were about to start again.

“Did you take a test?”

You hated how adult Peter was right now, he was making you seem so immature and childish about this.

“Are you mad at me?” You wondered if that was the reason behind the blank face he wore.

“What? No. No, not at all. It takes two to make a b-” He tried to calm your fears but you stopped him again, you got louder this time. Not quite a yell but edging that way.

“Stop saying things like that!” You pushed away from him and stood up.

“Do you even understand this? Do you know what this means? Do you get what I’m saying?” You were upset with yourself but Peter was here to take the heat so right now it was his problem.

“Baby,” He tried.

“Don’t call me that right now.” Your tone was bitter. The word made you mad.

He sighed, “Okay, sweetheart. I-” He paused to find the right words but couldn’t. He felt defeated right now and he hasn’t felt like this ever. He was the fixer, he solved all your problems and was the one that made you feel better when you were in the dumps.

But this was a problem he couldn’t solve.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” It was honest. He couldn’t make it better but he wasn’t trying to make it worse.

“I don’t know!” You exploded on him. He didn’t take it personally, he knew you were in crisis mode. “Just,” You pulled at the roots of your hair, desperate for your boyfriend to do something, make this go away, stop the panic and fear and shame.

“Just fix it!” You pleaded.

He stood and held you to him. Tears wet his shirt, he felt his own clouding up his eyes so he shut them.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know if I can fix this one.” His voice made him sound defeated. You broke him.

“You always fix it.” You reminded him.

“I know.” He kissed your forehead.

“Did you take a test?” He sounded more authoritative this time.

“No.”

“Okay. I can do that, I can get you one.” He felt a little happy he could do something for you.

“Okay.” You pulled from him.

“Okay?” He watched you nod at him.

“Get the good one. The expensive one, I don’t trust the one dollar ones.”

“Got it. What else?” He was putting his wallet in his back pocket, he would be going to a bodega not even a block down the street.

“Nothing.” You couldn’t imagine anything making this more bearable at the moment.

“Okay.” Peter nodded at you and looked you over, he hoped you would be okay the five minutes he would be gone. “I love you.” The words made you choke up. He still loved you, even now.

You smiled, he knew you needed to hear that.

“I love you too.” You watched him step out his bedroom door.

“Wait,” He turned to look at you, waiting for you to finish your thought.

He watched you grin shyly, “Can you get me a chocolate milk too?”

“Anything for you ba-” He cleared his throat, “darling.”

You nodded and watched him leave.

Peter returned in record timing pulling the chocolate milk from the bag, (the good expensive stuff too. Peter felt like you deserved the extra $2 splurge) and leaving the test hidden in the opaque plastic, you shouldn’t have to stare at it until you were ready to take it.

You took the bottle from him and twisted off the cap with a crack of the seal.

“Gonna have to crack open a cold one for this.” You cheers the empty space in front of you and down a quarter of it and pass it to Peter. He holds his hands out in a passing manner, “No, I’m trying to lay off the hard stuff.” You laughed and insisted he take it, “C’mon I think you deserve a shot after today.”

He sighed and looked around, “Alright, just one okay? Don’t let my sponsor know about this.”

You giggled while you watched him drink an equal amount before he handed it back and you replaced the cap.

“We’re gonna need this for later.” You placed the bottle on his nightstand.

You lent your head on his shoulder. Your voice is quiet, “We’re gonna be okay, right?”

“Yeah. We’re going to be just fine.” You nodded against him. You chose to believe him.

You stood and pulled the test from the bag. He got you the nice one like you said, 2 tests inside. It was the digital “Pregnant” or “Not Pregnant” one. No squinting at lines, saying “is that a double line or a single?”

You let out a heavy breath and looked at your boyfriend. How he is so calm right now is beyond you. You looked at the test again and the trip to the bathroom seemed long and lonely and you didn’t want to be alone. You gave him the sweet eyes that usually got you what you wanted.

“Can you come with me?”

He sat up like a spring, walking ahead of you. “Of course.”

You peed on the stick while Peter sat on the side of the tub and talked to you about something because you were pee shy and couldn’t do it in the silence of the room knowing Peter was right next to you.

Laying the test flat on the sink you asked Peter to set the timer for 5 minutes. You didn’t know how long 5 minutes could be until now.

You sat next to him thigh to thigh on the tub slinking your hand between his.

“Be honest. Are you freaking out just as much as I am?” You looked at him to see his reaction.

He laughed, more like a chuckle. “Oh yeah.”

“You’re better at hiding it than me.” You pushed the curls falling into his eyes away.

“You didn’t need me to freak out, you needed me to support you. And I do.” He squeezed your hand in his.

You didn’t want to ask but this was the reality of the situation.

“What happens if it’s positive?” You held your breath.

“I don’t know.” He wishes he could say more.

“Neither do I.” You were in the same boat.

If the ship was sinking you'd go down together.

“I love you. I will always love you no matter what, positive or not I'm in your corner.” He looked at you and let himself be scared.

“If it’s.. If I’m pregnant,” You almost choked on the word, it was the first time you said it.

“If I’m pregnant, I don’t want to keep it.” You refused to look at his face. This was the shame, the immediate thought crossed your mind the second you started to question it.

“Okay.” He nodded. He agreed. He accepted.

“You’re okay with that? Or are you just saying that because it’s what you think I want to hear?”

“It’s your body, your choice.” He didn’t give his opinion. You noticed that.

“No. It’s your baby too. You get a say in the matter.” You were not backing down.

He thought of his next words carefully.

“We’re not bad people for not wanting a baby right now.”

That was all you needed to hear from him. Conformation. He was in this with you.

His timer went off. You both looked at eachother, your heart felt like it stopped. You both sat for a moment, you both knew that this was the last moment before your lives changed. Positive would mean a whole new conversation about what was next and negative would mean you both needed to take a step back and reevaluate how you’ve been doing things.

You stood and shook your hands out. You blew out a breath.

“I’m gonna look now.” You still haven’t moved. You didn’t want to see the result.

You sat back down next to Peter.

“I’m sorry. I can’t.”

“Do you want me to look?”

You nodded, “Please.”

You watched him stand, walk to the sink and peer at the test. He turned and looked at you. You couldn’t read his face. You held your breath in anticipation.

“Negative.”

Both of you smiled at the same time.

“Oh thank fucking God!” You cheered and fist pumped.

“I thought my heart was going to fall out of my ass.” Peter breathed out.

“I’m not pregnant! We’re not pregnant!” You danced around and high 10 Peter.

He wrapped his arms around you for a hug, you both latched onto each other and held each other in silence. The moment needing no words.

“I’m getting on birth control ASAP.” You talked into his collar.

“I didn’t want to suggest it but I think that’s a very good idea.” He kissed your temple.

You pulled away and looked into his eyes. They were light and warm, you realized how much he internalized his emotions and thoughts so you could freak out.

“I love you. I love you more than you will ever know. Thank you for being here with me, I would’ve really lost it if you weren't here.”

Peter raised his eyebrows, “Oh, so that was you keeping it together?”

“Hey! I think I did pretty good.” You swat at his chest.

“If pretty good is hanging on by a thread, then you did an awesome job.”

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Hey, I love you too, okay? More than you will ever know. I’m here for you no matter what.” He lent down to give you the first kiss since you arrived.

When you pulled away you looked at him and said, “You know what would be really good right now?”

“Hmm?” Peter looked at you like a love sick dope fiend.

“Celebratory chocolate milk.”

#peter parker blurb #peter parker smut #tasm!peter x reader #tasm smut #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker mcu #peter parker drabble #peter parker angst #peter parker #tasm andrew garfield #tasm!spiderman x you #my writing

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star-writr · 7 months

Text

Fever Dreams

Hello!! Just a short drabble while i work on my requests. enjoy!!

Homunyxch wasn't an interesting planet. On any normal occasion, the Doctor would've just set his course for somewhere else without even stepping off the TARDIS. That time, however, had been the first time he had ended up there since beginning his travels with you, and you had insisted. Against all expectations, trouble had followed you and the Doctor on the rocky shores of Homunyxch, giving you another day of adventures. Once back on the spaceship, though, you'd started to feel quite sick.

Stranded on the seat next to the console, your hands gripping the leather in an attempt to focus only on tightening their grip rather than the headache which was slowly making the veins on your forehead bigger and your blood circulation faster, you could faintly hear the Doctor express his satisfaction with the most recent events. You would've loved to listen to him ramble, but you were covered in sweat and your legs were killing you.

"Doctor," you called, your voice a whisper, staring at the floor. It only took a few moments for the Time Lord to make his way over to the seat, kneeling down in front of you and cupping your cheeks. He was calling your name, you realized, but not in time for you to answer; your eyelids fluttered shut, and you lost your senses, precipitating into the Doctor's arms.

You woke up in what seemed like an ocean of blankets and pillows. Even under all that you felt like you were freezing. Your palms and forehead were sweaty, and yet you couldn't help but shiver.

"Doctor?" you called faintly from under the blankets. Soon enough, rapid footsteps approached the bed, and the Doctor's messy hair and worried look suddenly came into sight.

"I'm right here", he whispered, sitting next to you. His hand rested on your forehead for a couple of seconds, and the Time Lord furrowed his brow. He was clearly worried.

You were still very confused. "What's happening?" you asked.

The Doctor forced a light smile on his face to reassure you. "It's all right, sweetheart, it's only fever. You're going to be fine."

"Alien fever?"

"I'm afraid so," he muttered, "but nothing you can't handle. Do you feel like sitting up for me?"

Your body ached and you couldn't feel your fingers, but nonetheless you managed to get up. Now your back was resting against the pillows and you were holding onto the Doctor's sleeve. "You're doing very good", he remarked. "It probably feels exhausting, doesn't it?"

You nodded. Just sitting upright felt way more tiring than usual. The Doctor gently stroked your cheek. "I made you some broth. It should help warm you up." You noticed the fuming bowl on the nightstand.

"What kind of broth?" you questioned him, suspicious. The Doctor had the tendency to give you stuff to eat without explaining it was alien.

"Chicken. From Earth. I didn't even make it, I bought it. Right now we're parked in Rome, next to a pharmacy and across from a convenience store."

You smiled. "We're in Italy? Really?"

"When you get better we can have a look around," he replied, "but it's best if you recover first. Come on, eat up."

The Doctor handed you the bowl and in a few minutes you managed to gulp down every last drop of the broth. It was hot and warmed you up, just like the Doctor had said it would.

"There we go. Good, isn't it?" the Time Lord spoke, putting the bowl back on the nightstand. You nodded. The Doctor planted a kiss on your forehead. "Get back under the covers, you need to rest." You did as he told you, grateful for his company. He stroked your hair, gently and consistently, and you closed your eyes. Everything ached, but at least the Doctor was by your side.

The day went by in a haze. Once a while you could feel the Doctor putting a wet towel over your eyes, and fragments of his stories whispered from time to time. He also laid next to you throughout the night, and you tugged on his sleeve every time you came back to your senses for a few seconds, just to see if he was still there. He never left your side. If he had to, he would press his lips on your forehead and tell you he was going to "be back in a mo", but you didn't even notice his absence since he wouldn't spend more than a minute outside your room, doing whatever it was he needed to do.

Some time passed, and luckily your temperature got lower and lower. Slowly but surely, you even managed to get up from the bed and take a long, warm shower. The Doctor was so worried that he even suggested he went in with you, and even if you told him to piss off, you found it very sweet of him. "If you feel dizzy, scream really loud. Try not to slip, sweetheart. Also, I'll wash your clothes when you're done. Are you sure you don't want to eat first?" he rambled, but you told him off and had the most ordinary shower of your life. He almost hugged you when you got out, but your bare shoulders and death stare made him settle for a relieved smile in your direction.

You got your PJs back on and, soon enough, fell asleep once again. Even if you were recovering, that shower had exhausted you. The Doctor, having come inside the room to check in on you, smiled at your sleepy face and laid down next to you. Still asleep, your arms found their way over to his figure, your fingers clinging on to his clothes, and remained motionless. The only movement was your chests rising and falling, and the Time Lord's lips bending into a content grin.

When you woke up, an hour and a half later, the Doctor's hand was striking your head. Lazily, your eyelids lifted enough to let you see the Time Lord smiling at you.

"You alright?" he asked, in a murmur.

You nodded, then yawned, making him chuckle. "I wanna go to Rome," you pouted.

"You're not ready yet." The Doctor hugged you. "We don't want to make it worse, now, do we?"

"No..." you grumbled. The Doctor kissed your head. "Good", he said. "Are you hungry?"

"Not really."

"Okay. But I'm still going to make you something in a while. You can't recover on an empty stomach." His voice was low and made you want to spend forever with him, right there, laying together on a million pillows.

"Doctor?"

"Yes?"

You pecked him on the lips, grabbing him by the collar. He didn't protest.

"Thank you," you whispered, breathlessly, still very close to his face. "For everything you do for me."

He grinned. "Anytime, sweetheart." You chuckled at his words, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

This was his paradise, he thought.

#doctor who #10th doctor #10th doctor x reader #10th doctor imagine #david tennant #doctor who x reader #gn reader #x reader #drabble

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iwahajii · 2 months

Text

let the rain take it

Ushijima couldn't make you stay.

Staring blankly at the front door, Ushijima wondered whether he'd be able make the right choice if given another chance.

He thought about what he'd do if time would turn back even for just a second because you slammed the front door just a second ago and now his world seems to be crumbling down while he stands frozen in place.

Was he wrong?

Was it a mistake to let you go when you could be with a man who would understand you, care for you, and cherish you better?

Was it wrong for him to want what's best for you even if it costs breaking your hearts?

Ushijima knows his limits the same way he knows his strengths; vivid, clear and familiar like the back of his hand.

Relationships, unlike volleyball, didn't simply require physical strength, stamina and logic. It demanded more from him, things he wasn't sure he could give and things he wasn't sure he even has in the first place.

After the short-lived relationships he had, all of them ending with "I'm sick of trying to love someone who can't love me back", he tried to steer clear of any romantic relationships because maybe they're right. He can't love other people and he doesn't know how to love other people.

But then he met you and by some miracle, stayed with him for almost three years.

Until tonight.

It was only at that point that he blinked, waking up from the slumber your departure induced.

He felt it then.

The splitting, aching, twisting pain in his chest that bloomed and spread until he was visibly shaking. He tried to breathe, tried to calm whatever rampage is going inside his chest when he realized there was wetness in his cheeks.

I don't need you.

The words felt like bullets shot straight to his heart, leaving him breathless as more tears flowed down his cheeks.

It was him who wanted to believe he didn't need you. It was him who wanted to convince himself that he didn't need someone to ask how his day went, that he didn't need someone to worry about him, that he didn't need someone who would accept him for who he is.

He took your affection in exchange for cold treatment and neglect, pushing and taunting until you break your own promise to love him no matter what.

I don't need you.

They were the last words he said to you before you left.

It was the biggest fucking lie Ushijima ever said.

Before he realized what he was doing, Ushijima found himself outside of his apartment, one foot shoeless as he scrambled after you.

He could hear how loud his heart was beating, how cold and stiff his limbs were from the nerves.

The red arrows pointing down in the elevator seemed to laugh at him as the number 2 repeatedly flashes. He runs for the stairs, skipping steps as much as he could. Everything was a blur until he throws himself out onto the street. He looked around, his eyes quickly scanning the vicinity but the rain was making it harder to see under the streetlights.

He shoves his hands in his hair, panic and despair settling down in his gut. There were already people looking at him, whispering by themselves but he didn't care.

He heads for the station, knowing you'd have to take the train to get to your apartment, and it was just in time that he sees you turn the corner.

Ushijima ran like his life depended on it, because as much as he denies and hides, it was the truth he was scared to face.

When he shouts your name, it was hoarse and raw as though it took all his strength to speak.

You barely just turned around before he was pulling you towards him, his shaking arms wounding around your frame.

"I'm so sorry," he tells you as he pressed his lips on the top of your head.

He could feel your body shake as you let out a sob he'll remember for the rest of his life. Taking your face in his hands, he lost count of how many apologies he whispered and sealed with his lips on your skin.

"I'm so tired, Toshi."

His heart shatters and air whooshes out of his lungs like he just received a spike in his abdomen.

"Please," he cries, trying his hardest not to fall apart.

He could feel you shake your head, could feel the tiny push you gave to pull away from him. "I don't want to fight anymore. I can't- Please, Toshi..."

"We won't. I promise," Ushijima cuts in, his voice surprisingly firm. "I'll try. We will work this out. We can work this out, right?"

"Please," he begs again and this time, he falls to his knees, strength leaving his body for the first time in his life. He felt so weak, utterly pitiful because he couldn't protect the only thing he should've protected in the first place.

He wanted to tell you so many things, words scrambling in his head but they wouldn't come out.

I was just so scared. I was scared by how much I needed you, how much I cared about you, how much I wanted you. I never cared for anyone else as much as I cared about you and it scares the hell out of me because I never felt this way with anyone else. Only you. Only with you.

Ushijima could feel the hand he was holding tremble and he gives it a light squeeze, urging you to look at him.

I am enamored by you. I yearn for you. With you, it felt like everything fell into place and I was just so scared so I pushed you away and hurt you.

He watched as your tears mix with raindrops, drawing short, shaky breaths to try and steady yourself. The grip you had on his hand is tight, enough to make him feel something, anything other than the void that grows inside him every second now.

"I think it's right that we let this love go, Wakatoshi. Losing myself once because of my love for you is enough and I am grateful you showed me that."

With your lips pressed softly against his, you whispered, "I will always love you, Wakatoshi," before you took a step back and turned.

He watched as you walked away and the only thing he could do then is let the rain take his tears and words away.

Please, don't leave me.

#haikyuu fic #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #ushijima scenarios #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima angst

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anadiasmount · 1 year

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me and you? - c.p

gif not mine.

Summary: After being invited out to the wedding of his closest friend, some feelings are revealed during the event.

First puli fic! If you have any requests, they are currently open <3

Word count: 2.7k

He props up behind you, offering you a hand with your necklace. “Still can’t do it?” he teases, you nod and grab your hair so it wouldn’t get in the way. You watch as his hands work the clasp so the necklace would stay in place, his fingertips ever so slightly touching the nape of your neck. He sees the goosebumps that arise on your skin, holding himself back from pressing small kisses along your bare neck and shoulder.

He knows he shouldn’t, but you fit into his embrace so perfectly. He knows it's wrong to feel how he does, that it should never have happened because of the agreement always to stay best friends. But you were it for him, the way you hugged him close after a tough day, making those fantastic sandwiches when you don’t feel like making a big meal, always open to watching monsters inc for like the thousandth time.

It could be the little things like making coffee before he leaves, or when you stay the night in the morning you leave little notes rather than a text, when his family visits him you always give him space but his family adores you always making you feel included, you always make time for him even if you're busy or if you're not at you 100%.

But something he will truly never get over is how he is himself without you judging. Even before moving from America, he always dealt with his insecurities and constant judgment from everyone, it always was there. It got worse and he always shut out from the world, not knowing who or how to reach out to.

He doesn't have to be fake happy, or fake a smile, he can laugh loudly not caring if he lets out a small snort. He will often tease you, kiss your head, and hold your hand when you begin to feel nervous if you're out in public. When you tell him you would stay over he is always met with you layed out on the couch with a messy bun and glasses reading a book of interest. “If only you were mine…”

He cuts out of his daze and pays attention to how you turn around slowly, placing your hands along his chest. His eyes link with yours, and Christian smirks too when you let a shudder of air at the closeness of your bodies. “You okay?” he finally speaks, causing a blush to your cheeks when it comes out raspy and deep. You nod and fix his tie which was a little loose, he frowns at your sudden quietness, so he brings your small hands to his lips kissing softly along your knuckles.

“Tell me what's wrong…” Christian pleads, you sigh but smile nervously, “I don’t know how to describe it Chris. I have this feeling in my stomach that hasn't gone away, and before you start no Im not feeling sick,” you cut him off before he could ask you. “It's a gut feeling that hasn't gone away since the morning,” he narrows his eyes and hums.

“If you continue feeling like that during the wedding please tell me. We can come home at any time,” he states. Home. You didn't realize till you were getting ready today that you've been coming to his home for the past 2 weeks straight. Cuddling on his couch, making breakfast before departing ways, having his friends over for game nights, and even sleeping on his bed at night, legs tangled beneath the sheets.

“I might go to my flat tonight…” you say randomly feeling like you've maybe overstayed your original stay. He shakes his head and squeezes your hands a bit tighter, almost as if he was afraid to let go, “Why? I wanted to surprise you tomorrow morning with brunch. Did I do something?” he frowns. “No, no, no! You haven't done a single thing, Christian, just missing the flat a bit. Last time I was there was two weeks ago…” you reveal giggling at his reaction.

He was so used to having you around he almost begged for you to stay, that you could do it together but in the morning, tonight he wanted you here, in his arms, in his bed, with his shirt.

You pull your hands from his and bring them to Christian's cheeks, swiping your thumbs over his freckles and slight stubble, “I promise I’ll be here before you wake up tomorrow, okay? So you can still “surprise me” with brunch,” you fake quote with your fingers. He chuckles and agrees, he hugs you, your scent hitting his senses, “Let's get going? I know you hate London traffic,” he kisses your cheek and interlocks your hands together.

“You look absolutely beautiful Y/n.”

“Likewise handsome…”

– – –

Your eyes did not leave his toned body all night, not even when you stood next together while greeting around. Christian just looked like a good-to-be-true dream, his black suit hugging the perfect places, and the precious black tie causing dirty images in your head. His Daniel Wellington watch on his tattooed wrist, his right wrist wearing your handmade friendship bracelet.

He currently had his left arm wrapped around your waist, his fingertips from time to time drawing small shapes and figures. You had excused yourself to go to the bathroom to touch up your lipstick that had faded after drinking some water and a glass of champagne.

Christian meant the absolute world to you, and the constant fear of losing him if things went wrong always scared you. Were you willing to lose a person who brought you coffee while you studied? The exact person who always greets you with a kiss on your cheek and then who hid their head in the crook of your neck? That person who you randomly danced under the rain the summer trip the year before, almost kissed?

That darn blush that adorned his freckled skin when you complimented even the smallest bit? The one who always bought you and your flat roses? The one who always dedicated his goals to you? You were too attached at this point to let go.

How would you tell him how you felt inside, not knowing if he even felt the same? The feeling of rejection crossed inside your head, the confrontation? Who were you kidding, he felt the same for you. These whole two weeks proved your point. You suddenly felt more confident, sexy even, the bubbly feeling inside you still present.

Before you walked out to the party once again you made sure the lipstick wasn’t smudged or on your teeth. You found his eyes instantly, they were already on you, and so you walked over to the table and sat down next to him. “You really do look stunning Y/n,” said Weston with a slight smirk on his face, you thanked him seeing how Christian clenched his jaw. “Did you just get here or?” he asked leaning over to you slightly.

“No, I arrived with Chris. We’ve been here for a while actually,” you smiled seeing Weston nod. The air felt heavy around the table causing Tyler to abruptly stand up and asks for everyone’s drink orders.

When you declined his offer Christian leaned over and whispered in your ear, “Have something, please. You told me you had a gut feeling, and I want to make sure you're okay,” he pleaded with his gorgeous brown eyes, how could you say no? All you did was nod and listened to Chris order a drink for you and him.

When Tyler returned the mood uplit, everyone laughing and having a conversation, telling stories from each other lives, and those from the US camps. When the lights dimmed and lit up the door entrance you clapped at the bride and groom who walked in with their hand in the air. They each gave speeches, and soon the party began again.

For the first 2 hours, you danced with some of your girlfriends that attended who were there and Christian of course. You took pictures at a booth with him, using the props and sunglasses that were laid there. You laughed at the caught-of-guard pictures that were taken, going for a second round, this time coming out prettier and happier.

“I'll be right back, going to use the restroom and get a drink,” Christian announced quietly to you once you were sat at the table again, you nodded and whispered a quick ‘be careful’. When you looked around you saw Tyler shake his head ‘no’ at Weston who had a mischievous smile on his face, and you suddenly panicked when you read his lips, “let her be, she's here with Pulisic man!”

“Y/n! Have a dance with me! I promise I don’t bite,” Weston said in a joking tone. A slow song played in the back, and you skimmed over to the dance floor which had couples and even the bride and groom dancing slowly. You cursed at yourself for being such a people pleaser, not wanting to make anyone feel upset or left out, you were just like that. “Let's go McKennie.”

He led you over to the dance floor, you finally had a good look at his cream suit and black button-up. Both of your bodies swaying to the music, one of his hands on your middle back and the other interlocked with yours. “Trust me, my intention isn't to hit on you or make you feel uncomfortable. I apologize if I came off that way,” Weston spoke. You furrowed your brows confused, and looked up, “I don’t understand-”

“He loves you Y/n, so much,” Weston said and smiled when he saw you realized who he was talking about. “Christian never stops talking about you, ‘Y/n this, Y/n made these cookies, Y/n was telling me, Y/n is staying over tonight,’ he's utterly obsessed at this point,” he teases. You laugh and continue to dance, “Give him a chance, the two of you were made for each other. Everyone notices besides the two of you. The love and relationship have been there since day one.”

“Never took you as the advice giver Wes,” you said smirking making him laugh. “Well here we are I guess,” Weston shrugged his shoulders and spoke again “Do you plan on telling him? Because if looks could kill, I would be dead by now,” you turn your head at his words and lock eyes with Christian.

He looks down and walks off to the table, his jaw clenching and unclenching, fist closed so tight his knuckles appear white. “Never took him as a jealous type,” expressed Weston. “I wanted to tell him tonight. I don't know I'm tired of waiting and honestly, it feels like we're already together. I didn't realize till today I was there for two weeks straight…”

He suddenly stops dancing, “Be happy with him. You love him dearly. The two of you deserve it. Tell him how you feel Y/n.” At that moment, Christian suddenly appears slapping Weston’s back playfully, a forced and tight smile on his lips, “Tell who what?”

Weston chuckles nervously and quickly retracts his hands back, “Hey man, you're back!”

Christian nods and cocks his head to the side, “Never left Wes”. Weston awkwardly walks off to the table, and you laugh as Tyler ushers him with his hand angrily to come back. You gulp and clear your throat as you observe Christian now with no tie and his first three buttons undone, a full view of his chain and chest hair. “What’s up, you okay?” you ask when you see him take deep breaths, the jealousy still present.

He relaxes when you bring your hands around up to his neck, not holding back and wrapping his arms tight and close to your body. His head rests on the side of your, feeling his nose trace along your jaw down to your neck. Christian presses a couple of kisses along your jaw, behind your ear, your pulse point, all the way down to where your neck meets your shoulder. Testing the water, but he sees how you love it. “I can't hold back anymore longer Y/n…”

You throw your head back at the feeling of his lips again, holding back a moan. “Wh-Wha-What do you mean Christian?” you stutter and then gulp. “Jesus, even the way you say my name makes me feel things you have no idea”. You don't even feel it when Christian starts swaying his body side to side with yours, dancing slowly to the music in the background. “Do you remember when we first met Y/n?” he asks, now resting his cheek next to yours.

“How could I forget? I didn’t know a single thing about you and what you did. You claimed you loved the small tattoo I have behind my ear and bought me a coffee with a chocolate donut” you had the courage to speak and reply. Christian hummed pulling you closer to his body, feeling the muscle underneath, “Can I confess something to you?” he whispers along your ear causing goosebumps to arise. “Anything. Tell me,” you urge.

“Just promise me you won't leave. Leave me.”

“I promise Christian, just please tell me,” you play with the hair on the nape of his neck. “If there's anything certain in my life it's you. I love you, y/n. It's been you always, I love you and your imperfections. I just want you next to me, supporting me at my games, watching the sunset at Jupiter, to do those silly face masks. You treat me so well, and you have no idea of how afraid I get if I weren't ever to have you, one-day pretty girl.”

You gasp at his words, not believing he's actually confessing how he feels right now. He brings his head back to stare at your face, your teary eyes and mouth slightly gaped open. “Say something, please,” Christian begs, and all you can do is chuckle. “Remember when I met your sister that one time by accident at your house?” he looks at you amused yet dumbfounded to see where you were going to take things.

“I knew from that day forward I would be stuck with you forever. That day you lifted the trophy with the US team, I knew I loved you. I love your small pep talks before I leave to take tests, your messy curls in the morning, and the little face you make when you see me wearing your hoodie, but most of all I love the way you love me…”

“Hold me when I'm upset or have just had a shit day, rub your hand on my thigh while I read, when you help me pick out plants for your house even if you insist there's plenty already, your soft eyes even when I blabber the stupidest shit, you playing your guitar… I love you, Christian.”

You stare at his soft brown eyes now filled with tears, one slowly falling down your cheek, you swipe it away with the back of your hand. Christian brings his tattoed hand to tuck your hair back, then suddenly lands on your cheek pulling you to his lips. He kisses you like there's no tomorrow, the sweet taste of your lips makes him groan, now holding your sides with both hands.

Your hands come up to his face, his slight beard tickling your palms but you don't care. You're too into the moment to care, just paying attention to how now his tongue teases your bottom lip to open, and when you do he wastes no time to kiss you deeper. Your hands now slightly tugging his hair. He gulps your soft moans and gasps. You place both of your feet back on the ground after tip-toeing, just smiling along his lips.

“Is this real?” you couldn't help but ask, your thumb swiping behind his ear. Christian nods pecking your lips once more, “More than real, baby. You're mine Y/n, all mine pretty girl.”

“Yours,” you agree. “So this is? You’re finally my girlfriend yeah?” Christian questions, his voice slightly nervous and excited. “Yes, as long as you’re my boyfriend? Forever and ever Mr. Captain America?” you tease him by saying his nickname that everyone love but him at times. “Deal. Still want to stay at your flat?”

“Not a chance. I want to stay next to you for tonight Chris…”

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic x you #christian pulisic fanfic #christian pulisic fluff #christian pulisic one shot #christian pulisic blurb

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sebstan2020 · 1 month

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Repaying The Debt

Chapter 9

Violet Williams, a typical rich daddy's girl who did nothing but spend his money and hang our with her girlfriends. Her life couldn't be better. But that all changes when her father gets in trouble with New Yorks biggest and most ruthless mob boss, James Barnes and she finds herself repaying the debt of her father.

Violet jumped from the blanket as the door to her small prison slammed open, shaking her from her deep sleep. She hadn’t slept so deeply since she arrived, and the exhaustion must have knocked her out. She glared over as Steve stormed inside, dropping the breakfast tray onto the desk, and glared back at her.

"Breakfast,” he spat, and then left in seconds, slamming the door. Violet groaned, rubbing her tired eyes, and she nearly couldn’t get out of bed, struggling to pull herself awake. All this fighting was making her so tired, and she wondered if she was going to be able to keep it up. Dragging herself from the floor, she grimaced at the bland and cold breakfast. The least they could do was give her it hot. Why torture her with a cold breakfast? James had a secret motive. Her days of living a rich, spoiled life were over. No more butlers bringing hot, steaming breakfasts of pancakes, bacon, eggs, morning coffee, strawberries and yogurt, and orange juice. No more being waited on hand and foot. If she wanted a nice breakfast, she was going to have to earn it.

She chewed the rubbery scrambled eggs and burned toast but forced it down her throat anyway, washing it with the glass of water. She needed whatever strength she could get to keep up her attitude and fight. Slowly, James was beginning to break her, and she came out on top. Slowly, she would bend to his will and submit fully, and when she did, he was going to enjoy it.

He wasn’t going to tolerate this kind of behavior. He wasn’t going to tolerate a brat in front of him. The next few weeks were going to be hard on discipline and rules, and if Violet broke any of these rules, then there would be consequences.

After breakfast, Violet found herself pacing the small room, the walls falling in on her. If she didn't get out of here soon, she was going to go crazy. The constant clink of the chain made her frustrated, and her anger boiled to the top, making her want to unleash it. She wanted to scream and kick the door down, but that would only result in a sore throat and a sore foot.

Violet groaned heavily but whipped around as the door opened again, and she looked over as James stood there this time, a smirk on his lips as he entered inside. He was dressed in an impeccable black suit, his hair brushed back, all except a few little strands, and his cologne was rich and potent. She glared at him with dark eyes, but his body easily towered over her from afar.

“Enjoy breakfast?” He asked, and she scoffed.

“If you can even call that breakfast, it’s not even hot,” she snapped, crossing her arms tightly over her chests, and James gave a sarcastic ‘Aww’ in response.

“What a shame!” he frowned, and Violet stomped forward as if to get up in his face, although she had forgotten how tall he was and that she had to completely stare up at him to even look him in the eyes.

“I want a proper breakfast; this sh*t is making me sick,” she ordered. It wasn’t that the food was bad, but her years of large breakfasts made her feel like she was being starved like a dog, and her demand for a proper breakfast had James tilting his head and setting his lips into a hard line.

“Try that again, this time with please, sir,” he commanded back, and Violet glared up at him. She didn’t want to break; she didn’t want to give in to these commands. Was she that desperate for a decent breakfast that she would bend to his will? James waited; he could wait all day, and Violet sighed, falling to the soles of her feet. She hadn’t realized she was on her tippy toes.

"Please, may I have a proper breakfast, sir?” She asked softly, and he smirked. How easy this was becoming.

“I’ll think about it for now, though we have something else to address,” he said, unlocking her collar from the chain and grabbing her forearm, yanking her out of the room and down the hallway. She stumbled along with his long strides, huffing and puffing as he brought her upstairs. She almost tripped on a step, as he was going too fast.

“Where are we going?” She gritted through her teeth as James opened a sleek brown mahogany door and shoved her inside. The door slammed shut, and Violet turned, gasping softly. The room was darker, with a hint of red to it. A large bed sat on the right-hand side, with beautiful carved bed posts and frames complete with gold rings hanging off every post. To the side was a long couch, red leather with polished dark wood. The floor itself was dark and hard and polished to perfection, with dim lights bouncing off. Along the walls were lengths of rope, chains, and leather dangling in all sorts of lengths and fashions. Beside that, an entire wall of erotic whips, canes, riding crops, floggers, paddles, straps, and belts hung on small hooks, each one deadly and intimidating. A dark chest of drawers was pressed against one of the walls, and a separate door leading to a walk-in closet was on the other side.

“What the fuck is this?” She turned, and James strode up to her, smacking a hand across her cheek. Her cheek burned, and Violet gasped, lifting a shaky hand up to press where he hit her.

“Do not speak to me with that tone or language,” for once Violet didn’t reply with a comeback or sass in her voice. She blinked and slowly looked up, speechless and with wide eyes. As James stared down at her, his face settled into nothing but glassy eyes.

“I think it’s time you were taught a lesson in respect. If you want your time here to be comfortable and easy, you will do what I say. I will not have a brat in my presence, and if you think I will bend over backwards to your attitude, then you are wrong.” He had taken a step forward, so his chest was almost touching hers, and Violet craned her neck backwards as he leaned closer, complete control in his grasp. She was stunned, too stunned to speak, and all she did was swallow, nodding slowly. James grinned. She was starting to submit and realized she had no power in this exchange.

This was why he brought her here—to teach her some discipline and manners.

“Good, now take off your clothes,” he said, brushing past her to fetch some things from the wall. Violet stared forward for a moment before shaking herself back to reality. His command, tone, and swiftness to discipline her had cast her under a spell of submission and conformity. She had nodded and listened, and all her fight had been shone away. But not for long. The very order of him wanting her naked had been enough for her to come back and realize where she was and who she was.

She turned and watched him as he took several items from the wall. A long, thin, pale stick, a set of cuffs, and a chain. As he turned back, he saw she hadn’t moved and hadn’t done as he had asked. Throwing the cuffs and chain on the bed, the long stick was held through his long fingers, and he dangled it beside his leg as he padded it over to her.

“I said take your clothes off,” he ordered again, his voice growing sterner and a hint of frustration in there. Violet took a step toward him and pressed herself close to his chest, raising her head and smiling a devilish smile.

"No,” she answered back with a sweet voice, and James took a deep breath through his nose, his eyes looming over her. In a matter of seconds, he clutched her wrist in his hand, bending her arm behind her back and twisting her so her body knelt to the ground, an agonizing cry emulating from Violet. She struggled and squirmed under his hold, but he was far too powerful for her to get out. The pain in her wrist was excruciating, as if he were about to snap it in half, and she whimpered. James stared down with no emotion on his face and, ever so slightly, twisted even more to the point where she arched her back.

“This is exactly what we are going to be disciplining out of you, that smart mouth. The first thing you need to learn, Violet, is that when I give you an order, you will obey me, or there will be consequences and punishment. If I were you, I would do as you told me, because I certainly wouldn’t like to be on the receiving end of any of this.” He spoke to her as if she were a child, and she groaned as he tugged her wrist ever so slightly back, forcing her to look up at him.

“Do I make myself clear?” He raised a brow, and she groaned, forcing herself not to answer. But the pain was too much, and she huffed.

"Yes,” she squeaked.

“Yes what?”.

“Yes Sir” James chuckled and released her.

“Good girl, now clothes off,” he released her, and she fell to the floor, panting and wincing as her wrist hurt with every movement now. Violet looked up at James, heavy breaths escaping her as he waited for her to obey, and she sucked a hard one before slowly peeling the clothes off her body. The room was hot, but her body shivered as she fell naked, her body shivering from the loss of her clothes, her nipples perking up as her breasts fell out of the t-shirt she was wearing. She stood awkwardly in the middle of the erotic room, unsure where to place her hands as James smiled, slowly walking closer to her and circling her as if he were inspecting.

She had a beautiful body, one he was going to enjoy shaping to his every command, and James came to stand in front of her, grabbing the leather cuffs from the bed. He wrapped them around her wrists, pulling them tight and easily buckling them. Last but not least, he attached the chain to her collar and, with a firm hand, shoved her to her knees on the floor, where she yelled. James began to circle her.

“I have had enough of your smart mouth, constantly trying to rebel and give me attitude. I don’t think anyone has ever taught you some manners,” he teased, and Violet growled. That wasn’t true at all. She knew how to say please and thank you; it was only this asshole she didn’t want to say them to.

"Well, maybe if—“ She was cut off instantly by a swift strike of his cane, snapping against her skin and slicing through the air, leaving a long red strip across her backside. She hissed and gritted her teeth, trying to keep her composure.

“You do not speak unless I give you permission to speak. From now on, the only words I want you to hear from your mouth are Yes, sir,” he ordered, and she took a breath.

"Yes, sir,” she answered, and he smirked.

“Good. Like I said, if you want your time here to be comfortable, you are going to have to work on not being such a smart little brat and show me some respect.” He came to stand in front of her, and with the end of his cane, he tapped the toe of his polished leather shoe.

“Lips here” His order was simple, and Violet looked up in shock. Did he seriously expect her to kiss his shoe? He raised a single brow, and Violet sighed, slowly leaning down to press her lips to the toe of his shoe.

“Good girl, kiss my shoe. Show me your respect,” he ordered, and with a blush on her cheeks, she began to kiss the leather. It was strong and lingered on her lips—the tangy taste. With the end of his cane, he moved her mane of hair away to get a good look at the sight of her submitting to him.

This was humiliating and went against all the fight she had mustered up. Never in a million years would anyone see Violet Williams submitting to anyone and kissing the shoe of the most notorious mobster in New York City. She was one of the richest girls in the city, with hundreds of friends and contacts and a fiery attitude. But not anymore. As she kissed his shoe, James ran the cane along her back, pulling it up and smacking it across her pale skin, and she hissed, lurching forward. She hadn’t experienced pain like this before.

“For each time you’ve mouthed off at me, you’ll get a strike, and I’ve been counting,” he informed her, running the cane further down to her ass and smacking her there.

"Ahhh!” she screamed, beginning to rise up from his shoe, but he shoved her back down. Another strike came on the backs of her thighs and on the soles of her feet, which made her squeal into his foot before resuming her respectful kissing. James worked the cane over his skin, tender welts being brought to the surface.

“See, that’s better. You’re actually listening and doing as you were told. Perhaps you deserve a reward,” he teased, although he wasn’t going to grant her one.

“Now say thank you, sir, for correcting me on my smart mouth.” Violet groaned under her breath and mustered up the courage to speak those words.

“Thank you, sir, for correcting me on my smart mouth,” she managed to say without the grit in her voice, and James smirked.

“Good girl,” he praised, and a sudden tingle went through her body. Why did those words make her relax? Violet settled further into the floor, pressing a final kiss to his shoe until his hand came and pulled the chain up, bringing her to her knees.

“See how much better that is when you're not a brat,” he teased as he crouched before her, running the cane down her thin stomach and smacking it across, a sharp red welt burning into her skin. She groaned with her lips held tightly together and let out a long breath through puckered lips.

“Yes Sir”

James grinned and stood, his hand reaching into her hair and pulling her to his leg, patting her and caressing her cheek. His leg was warm and soft to the touch on her cheek, the one he had slapped.

“Let this be a reminder to you that if you smart mouth me again, then I will punish you much harder than this,” he warned her, and Violet gasped, looking up with wide eyes. Her mouth dropped open. The cane could be so excruciating, and yet he had used it lightly on her, and she thought that was the worst. His warning was true, and she gulped.

"Yes, sir,” she responded, and James grinned.

“Good girl”.

Hey, sorry I haven't updated in a while, I think I was feeling a bit burned out, I hope you like this chapter, let me know what you think in the comments

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