#that would have been a horrible (painful) ending but it felt right

[fatkish]

Could you do a Aizawa x suicidal daughter please?Sorry if this is too dark but I’ve seen some of your other works about stuff like this and it makes me feel seen I guess thanks :)

(Sorry Anon, I know that you specifically asked for an x daughter reader, but I feel that this is a topic that happens to a lot of people so I decided that I would make it Gender Neutral since everyone could used a little Dadzawa every now and then. If you want me to make one specifically for a Dadzawa x Daughter Reader then I’ll do that.)

Father Aizawa x Suicidal Reader

If I was Happy

TRIGGER WARNING: The following contains mentions of suicide ideation, self harming thoughts and feelings and other potentially triggering things. Please be advised and refrain from reading if this will trigger you.

You hadn’t always struggled with these kind of thoughts and feelings, or maybe you did. Maybe you had these thoughts before, but it had felt like so long, you couldn’t remember a time when you didn’t feel this way.

You didn’t understand why you felt so horrible about yourself or when it started but you knew that originally, you didn’t think this way about yourself.

As these horrible thoughts ran rampant in your mind, thoughts of how you’re worthless, maybe you’re fat or you’re too skinny. Maybe you’re ugly or you have acne. Maybe your nose just doesn’t fit your face, or you have oily or greasy hair that you just can’t get rid of. Maybe you heard people who made fun of you and their words made you bully yourself worse than they did. Maybe you hated everything about yourself and you couldn’t take it anymore. Or maybe the state of the world was too depressing and you didn’t want to be a part of it. Whatever the case is, your world grew darker as you turned on yourself. You became your own worse critic. But still, you didn’t let anyone see the truth, especially your amazing dad.

And maybe that’s when you finally got the idea. The thought that maybe you should die.

You couldn’t remember when the last time was that you didn’t have these thoughts. It’s like a demon came inside of you and decided to poison you, making you hate yourself and everything that you were.

It hurts. It hurts to live like this. People can say things like, it’s selfish to kill yourself. Or killing yourself isn’t the solution. That you’re only hurting the ones that love you, but if those people really loved you, then wouldn’t they want your suffering to end? Why would the people that love you want you to suffer? Aren’t they the ones being selfish? You wouldn’t force an animal that’s in pain and has little to no quality of life to continue living just because you love them. Right? That’s inhumane. So why must you keep living if you don’t have any quality of life?

These were the kind of thoughts that plagued you late at night. You tried your hardest to live on and not let anyone know that you were suffering, especially your dad.

Your dad was amazing. He’s the best father you could ask for. Maybe he isn’t perfect, but you never once doubted his love for you. You knew that one of his best friends had died when he was in highschool. You know that it severely affected him. He might not be the most affectionate person in the world, but he doesn’t have to be. His eyes and smile say it all.

One night, you couldn’t take the thoughts anymore. You decided that you would write a letter and explain to your dad why you killed yourself and tell him is wasn’t his fault. You loved him so much, he’s always been there for you. But you know how stressful his life is and you just can’t fight off the part of you that believes you’re a burden to him. Your dad doesn’t need anymore stress especially from you. So you write a note and decided to do something special for him. You wrote, played and recorded a song for him.

(Play song above or play on YouTube)

Dear God, please, hear me out

I know it's been a couple years

Since I've reached out and said hello

I bet You're wondering

Why I keep

Obsessing on and stressing all the little things

When I should be

Living life and soaking up the memories

I know I've been selfish, I have

No excuse to give you, it's true

Hanging by a thread's how I live

I don't know why, but I feel more comfortable

Living in my agony, watching my self-esteem

Go up in flames, acting like I don't

Care what anyone else thinks, when I know truthfully

That that's the furthest thing from how I

Feel, but I'm too proud to open up and ask ya

To pick me up and pull me out this hole I'm trapped in

The truth is, I need help, but I just can't imagine who

Who I'd be if I was happy

As you played the song and sang, you didn’t know that your dad had come home. He knew that you had been learning to play instruments from Hizashi but he didn’t realize you were this good. He started to walk up the stairs and as he listened to the lyrics, his heart began to hurt, as he wondered why you sang this particular song, and with such emotion too.

Yeah, been this way so long

It feels like something's off when I'm not depressed

I got some issues that I won't address

I got some baggage I ain't opened yet

I got some demons I should put to rest

I got some traumas that I can't forget

I got some phone calls I been avoiding

Some family members I don't really connect with

Some things I said I wish I would of not let slip

Some hurtful words that never should of left my lips

Some bridges burned, I'm not ready to rebuild yet

Some insecurities I haven't dealt with, yes

I'll be the first to admit that I'm a lonely soul

And the last to admit I need a hand to hold

Losing hope, headed down a dangerous road

Strange, I know, but I feel most at home when I'm

Living in my agony, watching my self-esteem

Go up in flames acting, like I don't

Care what anyone else thinks, when I know truthfully

That that's the furthest thing from how I

Feel, but I'm too proud to open up and ask ya

To pick me up and pull me out this hole I'm trapped in

The truth is, I need help, but I just can't imagine who

Who I'd be if I was happy

Your dad listed outside your door as he took in the words and began to worry and hope that you were just going through an edgy phase but with his experience, and his gut, he knew that is wasn’t just a trivial thing.

Don't know what's around the bend

Don't know what my future is

But I can't keep on living in

Living in my agony, watching my self-esteem

Go up in flames acting, like I don't

Care what anyone else thinks, when I know truthfully

That that's the furthest thing from how I

Feel, but I'm too proud to open up and ask ya

To pick me up and pull me out this hole I'm trapped in

The truth is, I need help, but I just can't imagine who

Who I'd be if I was happy

If I was happy

If I was happy

As you put down the guitar and walked up to the recording device you spoke.

“Dad, I know that you’re probably upset… no… you’re definitely upset and I’m sorry for causing you this pain, but I just couldn’t keep living like this. The pain is never ending and I don’t think it ever will. You’ve been so great to me all these years and I love you so much… I … I’m sorry. I know it hurts and I don’t ever want you to blame yourself for what I chose to do. I’m sorry I hurt you and you don’t ever have to forgive me for taking my own life, I know I won’t forgive myself for the pain it’s causing you. There wasn’t anything you could have done to prevent this… I love you… and I always will…”

You couldn’t continue as your tears overflowed and you couldn’t stop yourself from crying. As you fell to the floor with your face in your hands a pair of sting arms wrapped around you and pulled you into a strong chest. Through your crying you could hear the crying of another person, and through your tears you saw the familiar black shirt and white capture scarf that belonged to your dad.

As you cried you wrapped your arms around your dad and continued to cry into his shoulder. He pulled you into his lap and cradled you in his arms as he held you tightly, afraid to let you go.

“I’m so sorry that you feel this way but please don’t do anything drastic, please. Baby I love you so much and I don’t know what I would do if I lost you. You mean everything to me and you’re the reason I come home every day. You’re my world and my everything. So please… please… don’t kill yourself or hurt yourself anymore. I don’t think my heart could take it”

Aizawa cried as he spoke softly into your hair as he held you. He remembered the day he first met you in the hospital. Your tiny newborn body was so small, your little hand could barely wrap itself around his pinky finger, but you held his hand for the first time. Your tiny little hand held onto his finger as tears spilled down his cheeks as he took in the sight of his newborn child. He feel in love at first sight as he held your tiny body. He vowed to protect you and be there for you no matter what.

And you opened your eyes and looked into his. You were his whole world. The only things that existed in the moment were Aizawa and his newborn child. To him, you’re everything, you’re what he fight to come home to, you’re his reason to live and survive even the most gruesome and brutal fights. He’ll never give up and he’ll always come home to you. After all, that’s the promise he made you when he first met you.

As you both pulled away and looked into each other’s teary eyes, you smiled and laughed.

“What’s so funny”

“You’ve got snot on your shoulder… I’m so sorry”

You apologized but couldn’t help but laugh at that for whatever reason. Your dad just smiled softly and wrapped his arms around you.

“You do realize I changed your diapers when you were a baby right? You puked on me, shit on me, there’s no body fluid that you haven’t already gotten on me” he smiled as you laughed even harder at the image of a younger him covered in baby vomit with a grossed out face.

As you both laughed and he told you stories of you as a baby, he remembered everything he loved about you.

“I love you sweetheart, I always will. Tomorrow, we are going to the hospital to get your mental health evaluated and whatever happens, I promise I’ll be there for you, okay”

“Okay”

You gave you dad one last hug before cleaning everything up and you decided to take a bath before bed.

(I might make a part 2 to this so if you’re interested in a part 2, just comment 2 or part 2 to let me know if anyone is interested in a sequel of this fic.)

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa x reader platonic #aizawa x reader comfort #aizawa x child reader #dadzawa

[dreamlogic]

musing in the tags about the view two years out from my hysterectomy and the shifting nature of neuropathy. i asked my PT for recommendations/resources pertaining to pain science and that's been a very helpful lenses to have. i'm still not back to normal, will never be unmarked by this experience or return to my pre-op self, but my baseline has been gradually increasing over the last few months, and it feels good to look back on the last two years and say "i have no idea how i managed to function while living with that, but i did!"

#meatsuit renno #chronic blogging #ctxt #at first post-hysto pain was a deep burning ache #and eventually that lessened on my left side and settled in for the long haul on the right #after a couple weeks it had started to feel like a small carnivorous creature scrabbling and gnawing at the inside of my abdomen #nestled into the hollow of my pelvis and reaching up with its raking claws #about 6 months in and the creature still chewed occasionally but had shrunk to the size of a tennis ball under my right incision site #it clamped its jaws down and went to sleep and i perpetually felt like someone had pinched a fold of my insides with a large binder clip #this constant awful twisting tug every time i moved that kept me from straightening up or breathing fully #this is about a year into recovery and my original surgeon has blown off my requests for follow-up treatment three times now #i carried on as best i could. fatigue and brainfog getting worse & worse as the pain wore on unrelentingly #about a year and a half into recovery it worsened again. searing lancing pain like i'd been impaled on a piece of white hot rebar #couldn't hardly move. couldn't think straight. couldn't sleep #finally checked myself into urgent care & then the ER just to try to get someone anyone to take me seriously and help me #finally got a referral to a new surgeon who immediately pinned it as extreme neuropathy #started gabapentin end of december last year and the relief was immediately #i never thought i would welcome the gritted teeth vice grip of my little feral pain creature #but when i felt the molten spike slide out to be replaced once more by its worrying jaws #the intermittent spark and fizzle of that pinching squirming pain was a dramatic improvement #then i started PT in march and slowly so slowly the creature's hungry grip is loosening #it still clamps down occasionally. maybe once every week or two i'll have a day when i just accept #that there will be a horrible little creature chewing on my right side from the inside #but nowadays with the gabapentin doing as much as it can and an exercise routine i must stick to religiously to supplement PT #the pain is more of a little pearl of dark matter shifting around under my skin #it's incredibly dense. the heart of a black hole of disabling agony. all that white hot fury condensed into a slick heavy marble #as i recover some of my strength and energy i can feel my body coating it in nacreous layers to minimize its influence #my hysterectomy was 2 years and 4 days ago today and i feel like i can finally finally say i'm beginning to truly heal #i suspect i'll always carry this pearl in my side like shrapnel. product of damaged nerve tissue that went untreated for far too long #i wish my original surgeon had been more competent more attentive less lazy & indifferent to my pain. but i still don't have any regrets.

[braceletofteeth]

You know a drama that would have been better if a beloved character had actually died?

Weak Hero Class 1.

#weak hero class 1 #I kept this to myself long enough #that would have been a horrible (painful) ending but it felt right #they delivered a strong message concerning the normalization of violence at home and at school #the destructiveness of pride and envy and the you're-either-above-or-below mindset #and about going too far without even realizing it. #about getting lost in your own head‚ in your fears and insecurities‚ and losing sight of what really matters. losing your sense of reality. #[redacted]'s death as a consequence would have really driven the sentiment home #so it was disappointing when they took a step back on that

[nanaslutt]

Perv!Geto taking care of you while you're sick

note: if you keep up with my perv!geto series, this takes place after reader & geto are together, if you don't, just read this as an established relationship fic :)

—

contains: fem reader, whipped!geto, masturbation, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, teasing, nipple play, panty licking/sniffing, cum eating, fantasizing, slight somno

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Geto had been taking care of you for about a week now, but not in the hot, steamy, limbs-tangled-together-for-hours-on-end way. You had come down with a horrible cold right after Christmas, and being your roomie and boyfriend—Geto was attending to your every need.

It had been exactly seven days since you had first come down with the sickness. At first, it started off as a sore throat and nothing more, but the days following would turn into your own personal hell. Every single symptom of the flu managed to take over you, making you wish Geto would've killed you the night before you got sick when he was choking you out while fucking you dumb.

Geto had been so attentive throughout your whole sickness. He had brought you a cold wet rag every hour, slept with you at night, made sure you were eating no matter how much you didnt feel like it, held your hair when you got sick, and literally carried you all around the house when you wanted to go somewhere.

It even got to a point where he had to help you shower, sitting you down between his thighs on a small shower stool he instructed you to close your eyes while he massaged the shampoo into your hair, not wanting any to go into your eyes—you didnt need to be in any more pain than you already were.

Geto took your temperature every hour to make sure you never got too hot. If it did, he would've rushed you to the hospital in an instant. Luckily your fever broke after the third day, which meant for the last couple of days, you had been able to walk around the house yourself if you needed something. Granted if Geto saw you out of bed he scooped you up and immediately tucked you back into the sheets, demanding you tell him what you need so he could get it for you.

Geto loved taking care of you, he loved pampering you and doing mundane things for you, which is why he didnt mind helping you so much. The only downside to you being sick though.. no sex.

Since the two of you had started hooking up, even before you made things official, the both of you never went more than two days doing something sexual with one another. Of course, Geto felt so bad you were sick, and he wanted you to get better asap just for the sake of you not being sick anymore--but being able to have sex with you again was going to be a nice bonus.

Geto had to seriously restrain himself when you pressed yourself back into him, trying to steal his body heat while you were half asleep. He had to squeeze his eyes shut and think of Gojo in order to not pop a boner right now. Geto doesn't think he's ever thought about Gojo so much in one week.

When he had you naked in front of him in the shower, your body swaying while you tried to keep yourself away as the warm water hit your skin, he was so glad you were facing away from him. You had just spent the entire night being sick in the bathroom, you had a splitting headache and were barely staying conscious for christ sake and here he was, hard as a rock as he rubbed the washcloth over your soft skin, cleaning every inch of your body.

One night, he had woken up in the middle of the night and saw the comforter that was once covering the two of you, was discarded at the edge of the bed--your shaking frame exposed to his eyes. He made you wear only a tank top and panties to bed that night to try and lower your body temperature. You had protested of course, but you must've gotten hot at some point, as there was a thin layer of sweat on your skin.

Geto immediately knew he was hard, he didnt even have to look. Your ass was pressed right against his crotch, cradling his stiff cock perfectly. He knew his erection wasn't going to go away unless he did something about it. Every neuron in his brain was telling him to use your thighs, just slide his cock between your cold thighs and rub it back and forth, rubbing against your panty-clad cunt in the process.

Of course, he knew he wouldn't actually do it, but it wouldn't stop him from fantasizing about it. He slid back from your body slightly, giving himself just enough room to slide his hand into his boxers and pull out his stiff cock, the tip already leaking with pre.

He tried to focus on the curve of your ass in the darkness, wishing you were in a more vulnerable position so he could see your pussy better, but this would have to do. He started stroking his cock slowly, so as to not wake you from the shaking of his arm.

Geto bit his lip to keep himself quiet as he jerked off. Shaky breaths could be heard through the room if one focused enough. Geto reached out slowly to grab your hip, just to feel your skin, to give himself something.

He felt a shock of electricity shoot down to his dick the second he touched you, his lips pressing together to suppress a groan. His hand traveled down further the closer he got to his high. He softly groped your ass, massaging and rubbing the fat there to help him cum quicker.

Your scent was all around him, it was making him dizzy. You were so close, so fucking close, and he couldn't even do anything about it. When he felt himself approach the edge he squeezed his eyes shut, tightening his hand over his cock as he groped you harder, praying you wouldn't wake up right now.

He imagined his hand being your cunt, pulsing and squeezing around his cock as he fucked the both of you towards your orgasms. You would be so loud, crying out for him has he impaled you on his cock. Would you squirt? He bet you would.. he always made you squirt when he fucked you on your side like this.

All he had to do was lift your leg and pull your panties aside and he could slip his cock inside you, finishing himself off deep inside your warm cunt instead of wasting his load in his hand—the load he had wanted to save for you.

He was going to cum so much, and it was going to be so thick he felt bad wasting it like this, but he had no choice. Not when he wanted to cum this bad and he was so close. Absentmindedly, his thumb had slid down to your cunt, and softly pressed it against your clothed hole. When your body shifted forward and you softly grunted in your sleep, that's all he needed to send him over the edge, his orgasm crashing down over him in that moment.

The rush of almost getting caught made him cum ten times harder. His hand retracted from your cunt as he grabbed the tip of his dick, catching his seed in the palm of his hand, careful to not spill any on your bed. He rolled onto his back, still jerking himself off through his orgasm as his body hunched in on itself with the intensity of his orgasm.

He bit his lip hard, nothing but heavy breathing spilling from his nose as he did his best to keep quiet, stroking himself off through the aftershocks of his high. When he started to come down, he let his lip go from the confines of his teeth, sighing heavily into the quiet room.

He was right, his load was so thick and there was so much of it, it really was a shame he had to waste it--he thought as he washed it down the sink, scrubbing his hands clean with your sweet-smelling soap before he crawled back into bed with you.

—

Now it was seven days later, and you had dragged yourself out of bed to grab something to drink, not being able to take lying around in bed anymore. Geto heard the commotion in the kitchen and walked around the corner, watching you standing on your tippy toes, your ass peeking out under his large shirt you wore, the bottom half of your body clad in only a pair of panties.

He swallowed hard at the sight in front of him, reminding himself you were still very much sick as he felt his face heat up while he oggled the soft skin of your ass. "Hey, what are you doin' out of bed?" Geto's voice rang in your clogged ears, his large figure pressing against your back soon after he spoke. "It's okay Sugu, really.. I've been in bed for a week straight I need to move around or I'm going to- *cough* die.." You said, covering your mouth with your arm, your cough shaking Geto's body as he held on to you.

"Still no fever?" Geto asked, moving one of his hands up to press against your forehead, feeling the warm skin. You closed your eyes upon feeling his hand, humming at his touch. "..You're a little warm." He said after a beat, making you sigh. "Sugu I'm fine, really. I'm still pretty exhausted but I feel like I'm slowly getting better." He knew you were telling the truth.

After all, just a couple of days ago you couldn't even stand, and now you were walking around the house all on your own, so you must finally be getting better. "About time." He sighed, burying his face into the crook of your neck and kissing the skin there. You wrapped your arms around his that held your body, letting him rock you back and forth.

"Someone miss me?" You asked, you giggle getting cut off with a cough. It took Geto a second to realize you weren't talking about him. Your boyfriend groaned into your shoulder, keeping his arms around you but pulling his hips back so his erect cock wasn't poking into your ass. "He's always like that when I see you," Geto replied, mumbling into your neck.

His words made you giggle, "You're so cute. Sorry if I've been making it hard for you. I really should've been more careful, I didnt mean to get sick." You spoke in your hoarse voice. Geto raised his head from your neck, his large hand coming up to grab your face, turning you towards him. "No one means to get sick baby, I've been fine really, don't worry about me." He replied, caressing your cheek.

He pressed his lips to your forehead before he pulled away, grabbing the glass out of your hand to fill up your cup with water. Although his words said otherwise, you had a feeling Geto was having a harder time being abstinent than he led on.

You had been pretty out of it this past week and don't remember much, but you did recall the way Geto had averted his eyes every time they dared to linger on your body. He was constantly pulling your shorts and shirts down to cover your ass, and made a point to choose thicker fabric for the top so he couldn't see your hard nipples through the shirt. They were small details, but you had been living with Geto for a while, you had become observant.

When the dark-haired man turned back around, he was holding your glass of water. He held your waist in his hand and pressed the glass to your fingers, letting go when they wrapped around it. You closed your eyes when you felt his lips press to your forehead once more before his touch was gone altogether. "Get back to your room once you finish that, I'm gonna go.. call Satoru real quick, missed his call earlier." He lied through his teeth.

You nodded, and with that, he walked out of the room. That's when you knew that Geto was having a harder time with this than you thought, as he just lied to you. You weren't mad that he lied to you though, because you could piece together the real reason he escaped to his room—coincidentally right after you had pointed out his boner. He really was a terrible liar.

In any other situation, you would chase him down into his room and take his cock out of his hands, helping him out. But Geto was right, you needed to rest. You felt your fatigue creep up on you the longer you stood in the kitchen, taking small sips of your water.

After placing your glass down by the sink, you dragged your body towards your bedroom, stopping by Geto's on the way there, as you had to pass his room to get to yours at the end of the hall. As discreetly as you could, you pressed your ear against his bedroom, listening for any sounds of Geto getting himself off. You cursed your clogged ears, you couldn't hear anything at all.

Maybe he had already jerked off and gone to sleep? You were too tired to think about it any longer. You hadn't heard anything, so it made you feel a little better. If you had heard him pleasuring himself on the other side of the door, you would've felt a little guilty.

Geto held his palm over his lips, listening for the telltale sound of your door shutting before he let his gasps seep into the room. "Fuck.." He groaned, squeezing his cock at the tip, watching the white pearl of precum beat on the slit of his cock before it dripped down, meeting his fist as he stroked down the length of his cock.

He had heard your footsteps and seen your shadow standing outside the door, reacting quickly, he pressed his hand over his mouth and stopped his jerking in order to not get caught. He was still breathing pretty heavily, but he bet on your awful hearing right now that you wouldn't hear anything, and his gamble had paid off when you walked away soon after, slipping into your room to fall asleep once more.

"All I did was hug you and you got me this hard... fuck..." Geto mumbled under his breath, slipping his hand under his shirt to toy with his nipples while he squeezed his hand over his cock, trying to mimic the squeezing of your pussy. "Shiiiit-" He groaned, trying to keep his voice relatively quiet, keeping his ears open to hear if you moved around outside his room.

Geto flicked his fingers over his sensitive nipples, his abs clenching under his hand as he rubbed his thumb on his frenulum, massaging the sensitive spot to get him to his orgasm quicker. He wanted to go join you in your room and cuddle you to sleep, but he was in no shape to do so if he had a massive boner. He didnt need his neglected cock stabbing you in the back for hours on end, that couldn't possibly be comfortable.

seconds turned to minutes, and before he knew it, it had been half an hour and he still had not cum. You would for sure be asleep without him now. Fuck, why couldn't he cum? He was able to cum a couple days ago when you were next to him. Oh. Because you were next to him. Was he not able to cum without you in some way? Fuck, you had ruined him.

He let go of his throbbing cock and searched around his bed for his phone to scroll through pictures of you. The both of you had not yet taken any lewd pictures of each other, but he knew he would have no problem getting off to a picture of you even if you were in a snowsuit ten times bigger than you. He thought you looked like the most gorgeous person he'd ever seen when you were dying in bed all week, he was absolutely enamored with you.

"The fuck?" Geto mumbled, throwing his pillows off his bed in search of his phone. "Oh, you can't be serious." He sighed louder than intended. He had gone into your room roughly an hour before you walked into the kitchen to ask what you wanted for dinner, and he had set his phone down on your bedside table.

Geto rubbed his hands over his face, pulling the skin down dramatically in defeat. His imagination was just not cutting it, how was he supposed to get rid of this annoying boner if he couldn't even see your pretty face? Suddenly a lightbulb went off in his head. Your panties. Of course! Although the two of you were dating, he had made it clear to you that he still took immense joy in stealing your dirty panties and using them to get off. Although he masturbated less and less frequently since he started sleeping with you.

Quickly opening his drawer, he rummaged through the condoms, straw chords, and lighters in his bedside table, searching for your panties. "Come on, come on... fuck." Geto was quickly losing hope the more and more he dug. His drawer wasn't very big, and it wasn't very full, there were only so many corners he could check for the stolen panties.

He looked down to his exposed crotch when he realized your panties were absolutely not in his drawer. He was still hard, how was that even possible? Usually, when he got irritated or annoyed, his boner was killed in an instant, so why was this one sticking around? Geto silently cursed the universe for plaguing him with the opposite of erectile dysfunction, sighing as he grabbed his cock in his hand, slowly stroking his length while he looked at the ceiling, searching the crevasses in the walls for ideas.

After a good five minutes of sadly playing with his cock while trying to brainstorm ways to cum, he came to one conclusion. He had to get into your room to steal his phone back. With a sigh, he pulled his boxers on and slipped his grey sweats on over them, cringing at the obvious tent in his pants.

He pulled on his baggiest shirt and still, his cock could be seen through the fabric. Geto posed in front of the mirror, trying to gauge if it was all that obvious. Okay, say you are awake and he walks in with his hard cock poking out like a sore thumb. If he stood at this angle... under this lighting.. or maybe this angle? Yeah yeah.. this one.. you could barely see it.

Geto posed randomly in his full-length mirror, snapping back to reality when he realized he was hunched over with one leg sticking out in the most embarrassing and non-natural pose he could muster. "Fuck.. It's okay, it's just be in and out." He said out loud to himself in the mirror, standing up straight as he hyped himself up before he walked to his door and turned the knob, heading for your room.

—

It was not okay, nothing was okay. Nothing was more not okay than this. Geto stood in your doorway, watching with a saliva-filled mouth as you lay on your stomach, one knee bent, the leg curled up towards your head, your other straight pointed toward the end of the bed, giving Geto the most perfect view of your plump cunt pressing against your panties.

Geto closed his mouth, swallowing hard as his eyes zeroed in on your cunt. The light that shone through your room from the hallway illuminated your body perfectly, your skin almost glowing from the LEDs. Your panties were so thin they were allowing Geto to see everything. He could see your little slit and a small bump near the top of your pussy where your little clit was.

He palmed himself over his slacks, forgetting the reason why he came in here in the first place. He wrapped his hands over his cock through his slacks, jerking himself off, his damp boxers feeling strangely good on his sensitive length. He watched you shift slightly in your sleep, your leg raising itself higher, giving him an even better view of your cunt if possible.

He felt himself drip into his boxers, looking down he could make out a dark patch of cum seeping through on the front of his pants. Geto couldn't take it anymore, he was so hard, his cock and balls were aching for release, and you were right in front of him. Releasing his dick from his grip, he walked toward you and sat down on the side of your bed, rubbing your lower back and ass softly, trying to slowly wake you up.

He felt himself cringe when you moaned, your body stretching as you stared awake, your eyes cracking open. The headache you had been dealing with for days was still present, but a lot less intense, the water must've done its job while you slept.

As your eyes started to come into focus, the blurriness fading from them, you turned your body around, lying on your back. Geto's hand stayed on your body, his hand now rubbing your upper thigh, right next to your cunt. He tried to control himself at least long enough to explain what was going on, he didnt want to freak you out by pouncing on you while you weren't fully there.

"Sugu?" Your hoarse voice whispered, your hand landing on his bent knee as he faced you on the bed, a forced smile on his face. "Hi baby, I'm so sorry to wake you." He said genuinely. He felt his cock throb in his pants as your warm hand rubbed circles on his kneecap while you woke up fully. "'s okay Sugu.. 's everything okay?" You asked, your half-open eyes staring at him.

Geto decided he had waited long enough. You were forming coherent sentences--albeit slurred ones-- but you knew who he was and had registered his words, which was good enough for him. He slowly slotted himself between your thighs, sliding your legs over his large thighs and around his waist.

"Need you baby.." His deep voice whispered needily, his large hand coming down to grope himself over his pants while the other continued rubbing your soft thigh. A sudden warmth of arousal washed over you as your sleep-filled eyes dropped down to watch him palm his obviously hard cock. "I cant cum without you, been tryin' for so long, it hurts baby." He whispered, his eyes flitting between your cunt and your pretty flushed face.

"Sugu..." You whined softly, feeling yourself start to grow wetter the longer you watched him. "Don't need much baby, you can.. ngh- you can even go back to sleep if you want.." Geto said, reaching into his boxers he pulled out his cock, exposing his angry length to your eyes. "Just.. just need to see your little pussy, that's all." He finished.

Once he had his cock in his hand, he used the other to pull your panties down your thighs, exposing your twitching cunt to his hungry eyes. You blushed, watching silently with an open mouth as he pulled the cloth away from your body. "Oh fuck." He groaned. "Such a pretty fucking cunt."

Geto abandoned his hand on his cock for a second to slide help you bend your knees, sliding your panties completely off your body, keeping them in his hand. Your boyfriend shook his head as he stared at your cunt, which unbeknownst to him was getting wetter and wetter by the second.

"W-wait." You voiced when you watched Geto lift your panties up to his face. He paused his actions, smirking at you, his face full of lust. "I've teased you plenty, but you've never actually seen me use your panties, have you?" He asked, to which you shook your head, placing your hands over your face in embarrassment, peeking at him through your fingers.

"Sugu don't, they're d-dirty." You said, the heartbeat in your pussy increasing despite your words. "I know." He replied, pressing them against his nose. Your eyebrows furrowed, a dark blush spreading over your face as you watched Geto's eyes roll back in his head as he sniffed your panties, taking in the scent of your cunt. "Ohmygodd-" He groaned, jerking his cock faster as he felt a wave of arousal flood his pelvis.

"Baby you smell so good oh fuck- needed this- n-needed you." He groaned shamelessly. A drip of pre-cum dripped from the tip of his cock, landing between you on your sheets. You whimpered watching Suguru put on his little show for you, not daring to move your hands away from your face.

"You embarassed cutie?" Geto teased, bringing the panties away from his face to find the part that presses against your folds before he held it up to his mouth, his tongue darting out to taste the remnants of you while keeping his lidded eyes glued to yours. "You're so filthy.." You mumbled behind your hands.

Geto heard you loud and clear, his cock twitching in interest. "Hmm? What was that?" He asked, handing off the panties to his other hand as he wrapped the cloth around his cock, jerking off with it while his other came back to caress your upper thigh. "I- I said you're filthy." You said a little louder, watching him use the panties you had on seconds ago to masturbate with.

"And you love it don't you? Can see your pussy throbbing while you watch me use 'ur dirty panties to touch myself." He said, tipping his head to the side to allow the light in the hallway to seep past him and illuminate your wet cunt, allowing him a better view of his favorite sight.

"Fuck.. this is doing it for me baby, thank you, thank you so much." Geto babbled, watching your cunt throb under his intense gaze. "You really only need to look at um.. at it?" You said, dropping your hands from your face, and resting them on your chest. "Yeah.. fuck- can feel myself gettin' real close just from lookin' at your pretty pussy."

You moaned at his words, watching the tip of his dick drip more and more precut onto the sheets. "Can you.. maybe touch me a little?" You ask hesitantly, not wanting to push your body too far. "'s that okay?" He asked, his hand already making its way to your inner thigh, teasing the skin there. "Gently, I'm just feeling a little.." You let your words trail off, looking away from him.

Geto had to slow his hand down so he didnt cum too soon. Who knew you could be so cute when you were sick? He was used to you being demanding and assertive, clearly being sick took you down a notch. "You feelin' a little needy down there, hmm?" Geto finished for you, his thumb spreading your folds open, exposing the slick that resided inside your walls.

Geto smirked when you nodded, his cock twitching in response to seeing you so wet. "Want me to rub your clit? I'll be gentle." Geto asked sweetly, dipping his thumb into the entrance of your pussy, gathering some of the wetness on his thumb while he waited for your response. You nodded before speaking softly, "I'm not going to last long so don't make fun of me.." You admitted, feeling like you were already going to cum without him even touching you.

"Yeah?" Geto teased, his fingers splaying out on your pelvis as his thumb came down to rub small circles against your clit at the perfect pace and pressure. "Gonna cum real fast for me?" He continued, knowing how worked up you got from his words.

Now that he was actually touching you, he really had to be careful that he didnt blow his load too soon, his hand gripping himself at the base as he staved off his orgasm. You nodded, your hand coming down to weakly grab his wrist, your other arm covering your mouth as you coughed weakly into your arm. "You okay? 's it too much?" He asked, slowing his thumb on your swollen bud.

You felt yourself clench around nothing at the change of pace. You gripped his wrist a little harder, urging him to continue. "N-no *cough* Please don't stop." You begged, looking into his eyes. Geto picked up his pace on himself once more when he felt his orgasm fade a safe distance away, still being careful to be mindful of how close he was.

"You're so cute baby, so fucking cute." He praised, picking up the speed of his thumb on your clit, making your back arch, your eyes rolling back in your head as your chin tipped towards the ceiling, your head relaxing onto the soft pillow as Geto got you off. He dipped his thumb down to your entrance once more, collecting some more of your slick before he brought it back up to your clit, smiling at the little wet sounds it created.

Your soft whimpers started picking up in volume, your body squirming more against the sheets, which Geto noticed. "You getting close baby?" Geto asked, looking down at his own cock as he smeared his precut on your panties before wrapping the fabric back over his cock and jerking off with it, picking up his pace.

"Yeah.. feel it coming Sugu." You whispered, keeping your eyes shut as you relaxed into the bed, letting Geto do all of the work. "Good, good girl baby. Doing so well letting me get us off like this. 'S it feel good? You like it when I rub your clit?" Geto spoke softly, using his words to bring your to your orgasm.

"Y-yeah, feels s-so good Sugu.. always *cough* make me feel so good." You choked on your words a bit, trying to breathe through the pleasure so you didnt fall into a coughing fit.

Geto felt his orgasm rapidly approaching, but he needed you to cum first. He needed both of his hands to do what he wnated to do when he came. "That's right, just relax baby, let me take care of you, let me make you cum." He whispered, biting his lip when he felt your legs squeeze his waist, your hand gripping his wrist harder. "O-oh Sugu- I'm cumming I-I'm cumming-" You whimpered, your head thrashing against the pillow as your back arched with your pleasure, your eyebrows screwing together.

"'M right here, cum for me baby, yesyes- ohhhh fuck- yesss, that's right baby let it all out." Geto huffed out a laugh, speaking through his teeth as his thumb kept rubbing over your clit, helping you ride out your orgasm. He felt his balls tighten with his impending release when your arousal dripped from your hole, sliding down your ass. "Fuck, good job baby, good fucking girl." Geto praised, pulling his thumb back when he felt you push him away, being careful to not overstimulate you right now.

Your body twitched as you came down from your high, your eyes screwing open as your vision focused on the ceiling above you. Your view was slightly blurry from how sleeping cumming had made you, it took a lot more out of you than you had expected, even only playing with your clit.

Geto's voice brought you back to reality, your sleepy eyes slowly looking down at him, your chin tipping down in tandem as you looked at him. "Watch me, baby, need you to watch me while I cum in your panties."

His unexpected words made you feel hot all over, another gush of arousal leaking from your cunt. Geto tipped his head back, the light behind him illuminating his hair and his impressive frame, making him appear as if he was glowing.

You watched his jaw fall open as moans spilled from his lips, finding their way into your ears. Geto's hand over his cock looked blurry, save for the black fabric that was being yanked over his length as he worked himself up to his orgasm.

"Fuck- fuck-" Geto's back arched, his breath coming out in small gasps and pants as he was brought to the edge. His chin tipped down as he ripped your panties off of his cock with his free hand, his fingers quickly finding the part that cradles your cunt as he held it out right in front of his cock, stroking himself rapidly.

"Cumming- cum- fuck-" Geto grit through his teeth before the first rope of his cum shot out and landed on the crotch of your panties. You watched with tired eyes as he came all over the fabric, defiling it with his thick cum. "Nghhhh-" He groaned as he jerked himself off through his high, making sure every rope of his hot cum landed on your panties.

You fought the sleep from your brain as you watched him. He looked so pretty with his flushed face and slack jaw as he rode through the aftershocks of his orgasm, rubbing the tip of his cock on your panties to clean it off. Geto's eyes looked up to your own, his chest rising and falling as he breathed heavily, trying to recover from such an intense orgasm.

He smiled watching your sleepy eyes flutter, trying to stay open. Balling up the defiled panties, he threw them somewhere on your floor before he rubbed your thigh with his big hand soothingly, smiling at your face softly. "I'll clean you up, go to sleep baby, did so well for me, I love you. These were the last words you heard from your sweet boyfriend before you drifted off into dreamland.

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto fluff #geto smut #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #jjk geto #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru #geto x you #jujutsu geto #geto x y/n #geto suguru drabble #getou suguru smut #getou suguru x you #jjk suguru #jujutsu kaisen suguru #suguru geto smut #getou suguru x y/n #suguru fluff #jujutsu kaisen fic #jjk fic

[mrpenguinpants]

Low Battery Warning - Touch Starved HCs

— If he goes too long without you by his side, he starts to get irritable and too frustrating for anyone to deal with. For the sake of everyone, please remember to recharge your battery before leaving for extended periods of time.

— Tartaglia, Kaveh, Ayato, Alhaitham, and Dottore

[Masterlist]

I JUST WANT TO WRITE WHIPPED MEN OKAY? What do you mean I have to write a part 2 for two different fics??? I'm honestly surprised I managed to finish this. Also, ALHAITHAM NATION REJOICE, YOUR BOY IS HERE AND I CAN FINALLY MAKE A BANNER. I wasn't going to write him (I'm a kaveh stan) but now that he's here...

Tartaglia

While Tartaglia is the most favored to work with compared to the other Harbingers, that's only by a very slim margin. The closest you'll get to death is when the man gets bored and randomly picks someone to fight, but they usually make it out alive. Maybe a couple weeks in the medical bay and a few broken bones but they aren't dead for the most part. He's also the youngest and therefore the most easy-going even if he's a bit childish. He's a soldier first so he knows the pain of listening to someone verbally beat you down and not having the power to do anything back. But he's still a person at the end of the day and after so many people messing up and delaying his work, he's starting to get irritated. First, it was someone spilling tea onto important documents that he just finished signing, then the Fatui agents stationed near Jueyun Karst being defeated by some no-named treasure hoarders, and then finally being held hostage in his own office because the Liyue Qixing wouldn't leave him alone. God, he slumps over his desk, he just wants to go home and see you!

By the time he finally stumbles through the door, you're already passed out on the couch. He can't blame you, it's very late into the night and he would probably be more upset if you forced yourself to stay awake just to welcome him home. But he can still pout that he was taken away from you for so long, he didn't even get to see you all day. That's borderline torture. But he supposes he can forgive you since you look so cute bundled up in his red shirt. If he happens to take a picture or two that's for his knowledge and eyes only. So he easily scoops you up into his arms, taking a couple seconds to just stand there as he basks in the comfortable weight before he takes you to bed. Just for tonight. This will be the last time work takes him away from home for so long.

It lasts for two weeks. Usually, Childe could hold himself together, he's been away for far longer, but the fact that you're right there and he can't hold you is driving him insane. By the 14th day, Childe is ready to snap his pen in half and hurl it at the next person that comes through that cursed door. He doesn't though because it's usually Ekaterina, the only one that has the balls to talk to him right now, and she deserves far more than she's paid to deal with. But he's touch-deprived and tired. Even Zhongli with his infinite amount of patience advises him to sort himself out before inviting him out to lunch next time. He tried to deal with it on his own, this isn't the first time he's felt claustrophobic, but after the fifth Hilichurl camp he doesn't feel any better which only makes his mood sour further. He might even beat Scaramouche in how short-tempered he is right now. There's heavy air wherever he goes and whatever carefree persona he usually has on is thrown out the window.

It's Zhongli who clues you into how bad Childe's demeanor has gotten, the rascal looks horrible both physically and mentally. Despite the consultant and Childe being on friendly terms, you don't really know the man that well. But he doesn't seem like the type of person to lie so you thank him for the information and make your way to the Northland Bank. To be honest, you've been feeling the effects of not seeing Childe as often as you usually do. You know his work can get so hectic that it keeps him cooped up in his office but it's been a while since you've even seen that fluff of ginger hair. He usually doesn't want you near his work considering how it might put you in danger, but if he isn't taking care of himself then what kind of partner would you be if you didn't help?

Even outside the building, you can feel the effects of what Zhongli talked about. All the agents look like they're on their last legs, there's a gloomy atmosphere surrounding the building even though the sun shines brightly across Liyue harbor, and you can vaguely hear an annoyed Harbinger scolding someone. As soon as you set foot into the building Ekaterina nearly tackles you off your feet. Desperately thanking you for coming and looking at you as if you're the Tsaritsa herself.

As soon as Ekaterina says your name, Childe whips his head around at such a speed that you're afraid his head might fling off as his eyes lock onto yours. You know Childe wouldn't hurt you, never you, but he's looking at you like he's about to devour you and you're suddenly very glad you've never been on the receiving end of his anger. He shoves the papers in his hands into the agent's chest he was probably reprimanding and marches over to where you are.

"C-Childe?" "S-Sir?"

Ekaterina mirrors the wary call of his name until he's finally in front of you and without a word, throws his arms around you. You stumble a bit under his weight but you quickly circle your arms around his back and hold on tight so you don't trip over your own feet. You can only imagine what it looks like for Ekaterina to see her stiff boss suddenly deflate in your arms. A pleased groan escapes from him as he basically lifts you off your feet just so he can hug you closer to him. You almost feel like a child's teddy bear with your legs dangling in the air trapped in a crushing hug. You know that your relationship with Childe isn't a secret but you both don't show any displays of affection, you don't even really interact in public in general, so this is pretty open for the two of you. Well, for you at least. You don't even think Childe is registering anything around him except that you're here.

"Are you okay милый?" you whisper into his ear, nuzzling into the side of his head that's nestled into your shoulder. Your snezhnaya is a little rough around the edges but from how he seems to purr you think he enjoys it nonetheless. "Although I'm happy to see you too, don't you think we should move so we aren't blocking the main entrance?"

He sleepily blinks awake and slowly starts to acknowledge that you're both very much standing at the bank's entrance with everyone shamelessly staring. He frankly looks like he doesn't care, people have working legs, they can walk around you both. But he also doesn't want anyone to find another reason to take him away when he's very comfortable.

"If you need me, don't," is the clipped order that rings out through the bank. You know he's heavily censoring what he actually wants to say but from how everyone cowers away, they can probably tell what would happen if they disobey him. They all give him a nod and a salute before he's picking you up, cradles you into your arms, and swiftly walks upstairs. With a kick of his boot, the door slams shut and he sinks into his chair, you seated pretty on his lap.

"Please never leave me, I think I might die," he groans, re-wrapping his arms tight around your waist. You can only sigh fondly as you gently run your fingers through his hair, rubbing small circles into his scalp and he melts into goo. As if you would want to leave.

Kaveh

You know Kaveh is a bit...eccentric to say the least. He always says what's on his mind and most of the time his thoughts are things he should keep to himself. Even you're not totally immune to his blunt honesty despite the fact he tries to watch how he phrases things when directed to you. He doesn't want to accidentally hurt your feelings, regardless if you know he means no harm. It's rather cute that for someone who doesn't care about what others think of him, he's a bit insecure around you. He likes you, really likes you, and he often finds himself plotting out what he's going to say hours before your lunch date with him. But as soon as you greet him with that charming smile and a brief hug, he turns into putty and whatever flowery language he conjured in his mind is swept away. The confident architect that graduated with honors is reduced to a red-faced mess of stumbling words. It doesn't help that you find it adorable enough to press a chaste kiss to his red cheek and he swears that he's going to pass out from a heat stroke.

He's both extremely glad and terribly conflicted that your love language seems to be touch. He loves it when you brush your fingers through his hair but it always lulls him into sleep so he doesn't get any work done. He loves it when you hug him tightly but then he never wants to leave so he doesn't get any work done. He loves it when you cup his cheeks and pull him into a kiss but then he goes in for seconds, then thirds, and so on that he doesn't get any work done. If he went into alchemy rather than architecture he would dedicate his life work to studying why you have the touch of an Archon that compels him so. But he didn't and now that he's drowning in debt, he really needs to concentrate and finish his work before the deadline.

So now he has the painful task of trying to find an extremely polite way of asking you to leave him alone without you taking offense and breaking up with him. He would be devastated if he couldn't see your loving gaze on him again. But the situation is dire because as soon as he sees you, all he wants to do is curl up in bed with you in his arms. Preferably forever but he'll cross that bridge when he gets there. But every time he tries to bring it up it only takes one look from you for him to stutter and wave off his words. He tries to pep talk himself and every single time he claims that this will be the day that he, very politely, pushes you off, it ends with him melting into goo and waking up the next day with all his untouched work judging him from the table.

It gets to the point that he begins to air his grievances to Alhaitham of all people. To be fair, he doesn't expect the scribe to listen to a word he says and if he did, it would only be because Kaveh needed to pay his share of the rent. But he's pleasantly surprised when you pop up with a guilty smile and that Alhaitham explained his circumstances to you. He tries to clear up the situation, he has no idea what Alhaitham said specifically but it must have been put in the worst way possible, but you take his hands and he shuts up immediately. You give him a light giggle that melts his heart and you tell him to call for you once he's completed his work.

It was the worst decision he's ever made. Second to moving in with Alhaitham. Maybe his judgment of you being an angel was a lie and you were secretly the devil from how often his thoughts were plagued by you. He could draw a circle and think of your eyes. He knows that he's smitten in your presence but he didn't expect that to double when he's suddenly alone. His only motivation is that as soon as he's finished, he'll be able to see you again. But his mind and his work bleed together and he ends up drawing your face instead of buildings and pipes.

He ends up locking himself in his studio and slowly deforming into slime with how awful he's taking care of himself. Alhaitham has to pry him from the table only for Kaveh to flop in his arms that the scribe gives up and hauls the corpse over his shoulder and makes his way to your home. Kaveh still needs to pay his share of the rent so he's not allowed to die before then.

When you opened the door you weren't expecting Alhaitham at your doorstep with Kaveh over his shoulder. He doesn't seem to want to be in this situation either because it looks like he's two seconds away from throwing your boyfriend across the room. But he manages to reign everything in front of you and quickly explains Kaveh's situation, dumping said man into your arms, and telling you to fix it. You shoot him an apologetic smile that he waves off, it's not like it's your fault, before turning around and making his way back to his own home.

"Kaveh?" you whisper gently against his ear to not startle him. It only takes him a second to register your voice before he's perking up and beaming at you. He easily shifts positions so you're in his arms instead. Twirling you around and using the momentum to tuck an arm under your knees and smoothly picking you up, somehow supporting your entire weight in one arm while the other closes the door. Sometimes you forget that Kaveh is really strong despite his lean stature. He is a claymore user after all.

"Darling! What are you doing here?" Kaveh questions while he makes himself at home. If only your living space was big enough for him to store all his work otherwise he would have moved in with you by now.

"Alhaitham mentioned that your recent commission was taking up all your time and you weren't taking care of yourself. Are you alright?" you ask, wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself while Kaveh takes his shoes and coat off. In these types of moments, no matter what you do or say he'll refuse to let you out of his arms. If he has to live with one arm then he'll gladly do so just so long as his other hand is wrapped around you.

"Never better," he replies with a smile. He's obviously lying given the dark circles under his pretty red eyes but the soft look he sends you is enough to tell you that right now, he's never been more comfortable. It makes you a bit flustered to have such an intense gaze on you but Kaveh is always forward with his affections and this isn't any different. With you in his arms, there's nowhere for you to run to when he tilts your chin down and brushes his lips against yours.

"Be still for me..." he whispers, the vibrations of his voice tingling against your skin as both of your eyes slowly close. Only for the moment to shatter by loud knocks on your door. You both jerk apart and turn to the disturbance with varying expressions. You're a flustered mess while Kaveh scowls as if the door offended his entire life's work. He finally sets you down on your feet and gives you a quick peck on the cheek. Before marching to the door, flinging it open, and telling the man on the other side to shoo before slamming the door in his face. Unless the world is ending, don't knock.

Ayato

To say Ayato works hard is an understatement. There are several nights when he's glued to his desk rather than resting in bed. Such are the woes of him being forever dedicated to his duties as the Yashiro Commissioner. On days when there are big events and everything needs to be perfect, he's nearly inconsolable that Thoma weighs how much he can get away with if he knocks Ayato out with a frying pan. His pondering doesn't go far because even though Ayato looks like a corpse from the lack of sleep, he'd probably knock Thoma off his feet before the housekeeper could even raise his arms. Ayaka has better luck but she's only able to drag him away for a few minutes before he points in a random direction to divert her attention before disappearing as soon as she turns back. It's just something everyone is aware of and they try their best to support Lord Kamisato. But if it starts to look really bad, like Ayato might drop dead at any second, then you're called in. The last defense and their ace up the sleeve. Not to brag or anything but you have a spotless record and you intend to keep it that way.

It only takes one word from you to have the dignified and cunning Ayato turn into a scared rabbit. His name. None of the wary calls of Lord Kamisato, a dismissal of his titles, and certainly not your affectionate terms of endearment. It always brings the temperature of the room to zero and Ayaka has to double-check that her cyro vision didn't accidentally activate. Unlike Thoma and Ayaka, you're not soft on him and you set your foot down when it comes to his extremes. One of the many reasons he fell in love with you but it's coming back to bite him now. He hates seeing you unhappy, doing anything possible to wipe that frown off your face, but when it's him that's making you so displeased he can't help but look like a scolded puppy.

It doesn't take much for you to know that Ayato has overworked himself to the breaking point again. You understand his duties mean that he's going to be riddled with work but you're his partner first and foremost. You're there to care about Ayato, not the Yashiro Commissioner. And Ayato looks like he's falling apart at the seams. Heavy eye bags, pale complexion, and his body swaying back and forth before he catches himself from falling over. It pains your heart to see him like this and yet still push himself to keep going. So you take one, two, and three steps towards him to delicately take his hand in yours, rubbing soothing circles into his palm before intertwining your fingers together.

Unlike Thoma and Ayaka, he doesn't disappear as soon as you take your eyes off him. Just stands there and stares dopily at you while you issue orders to take over his work. God, you look so attractive when you're in control. It's been a while since he's seen anything but paper and ink but did you always look this beautiful? He's so glad he's going to marry you. Maybe he can force the elders to move the ceremony date up. Everyone in the room politely ignores the fact that Ayato is saying these thoughts out loud and how red your face has gotten.

He doesn't object when you pull him out of the room with you, blindly following you wherever you happen to lead him by the hand. As long as your hand is in his, he'll follow you to the ends of the earth if you'll allow it. It's a bit comical how the dignified Yashiro Commissioner recedes into himself and crumbles away into a love-sick man just by a simple touch. At much as it makes you feel a bit shy, it's nice to know that Ayato won't try and weasel his way out of your grasp and return to his work.

If anything he clings to you like an onikabuto on a tree. You have to waddle your way to the baths with an oversized blue-haired man refusing to let go and draping himself over your back. You know he's making this as hard as possible on purpose, just do you can dote and pamper him a bit longer before he succumbs to slumber and has to return to work. It dampens his mood thinking of the future but it's quickly ushered away by the warm water poured over his head. It's fitting that his vision is hydro because he fits himself into the space you provide as you begin to scrub his hair clean.

There's something meditative about having his hair washed by your hands that no one else can replicate. It's a luxury that he only receives when he works hard enough that his arms hang uselessly at his sides and his body slumps into itself. Soft and malleable, completely willing to bend and mold in whatever shape you wish. But your hands scrub through his hair gently, rubbing all the stress out of his body and never complaining. Right now there's nothing else that matters more than being here with you and you with him.

"I'm going to rinse your hair out. Close your eyes now," you softly say and he follows your instructions. The rush of warm water is soothing to his ears although it sparks something in his memory that momentarily takes him out of this romantic moment. He reaches blindly behind him to take your hand, rubbing circles into your palm to halt your actions.

"It's just occurred to me but aren't you supposed to be on a trip to Watatsumi island?" he opens his eyes to peer up at you, his long eyelashes tipped with water droplets reminding you of just how pretty Ayato is. It's almost a good enough distraction for you to forget why exactly you're here rather than speaking with Kokomi right now. Almost.

"I was but someone had to go and work himself to death again. You need to take better care of yourself Ayato. I don't want to see Thoma running across all of Inazuma just to drag me back because you can't seem to sit still for a few seconds," your frown deepens with each sentence. Your free hand that's not in his grasp is knocking against his forehead, albeit not hard enough to cause any actual pain. He only chuckles before pulling you into the water with him until you're sitting on the edge of the bathtub. His head lay comfortably against your thighs.

"Apologies." He's not sorry at all. "When you're not beside me I have to throw myself into my work or else I may go insane."

"Oh so now all of this is my fault," you huff exasperated but he can hear the undertones of how happy that sentence makes you. "Come on, you'll catch a cold if we stay here any longer."

"Mmm, indulge me," he mumbles into your skin, his eyes closing once again with a content smile on his face. He doesn't need to see to know that you have an equally fond expression.

"Oh, so now my lord wishes to relax?"

"Only because you're here."

Alhaitham

You know that your relationship with Alhaitham is unusual to onlookers. You're both polar opposites and yet somehow stumbled into a rather healthy and committed relationship. To others, Alhaitham is a talented and intelligent man. The perfect bachelor if it wasn't for his "extraordinary sense of individualism" that he doesn't pay attention to people around him. He's notorious for being hard to get along with that not even his handsome face is enough for people to sit around for too long. Meanwhile, there's you. A wandering traveler who takes work whenever anyone needs an extra pair of hands. You're a bit well-known for accepting any job that pays well regardless of how dangerous or weird it might be. But unlike Alhaitham, you're more than happy to make conversation and you're often seen conversing with scholars from every one of the Six Darshans.

To everyone's knowledge, it's you that's the clingy one. You always have a hand around his arm or throw yourself at him shamelessly. Everyone assumes that Alhaitham tolerates it because he never pushes you off but he doesn't reciprocate affection to the degree that you do. If only those nosy scholars could see him now. Your newest job has you traveling to the Chasm to help collect and study the newly opened area. While the Chasm is close to Sumeru, a series of mysterious accidents led the entire mine to be closed. With the Liyue Qizing gradually reopening the area there's a lot of ground to cover. Alhaitham doesn't care much for the details except that this means you'll be away from him for a few years rather than a few weeks. As soon as you told him the expected date you'll return his face instantly soured. It was so cute that you couldn't help but press kisses to the corners of his mouth until they lifted. But one thing led to another and you're now trapped underneath his strong figure for the past couple of hours with no signs of him letting go. Every day you're gone equates to one minute he gets to keep you here.

No matter how much Alhaitham wishes to make you stay, even going so far as to bribe you, you eventually gather your things, press one last kiss to his lips, and leave him in his too-quiet house. He doesn't want to admit it but as soon as he closes the door he already feels lonely. But he'll learn to cope and continue with his life. He's been through more challenging obstacles and made it through. It's only two years, 3 months, 14 minutes, and 58 seconds. Alhaitham sighs and leans against the door. He's not going to make it.

Everyone else is content to whisper behind their hands about how the scribe seems to be more hostile. While Alhaitham doesn't have the most friendly personality, he's still somewhat polite until someone gives him a reason to exit the conversation. But now Alhaitham can barely get two sentences in before insulting someone. He doesn't even mean to do it on purpose, it just slips out. A girl who happens to share your eye color is met with a backhanded compliment that she should eat more fish. A man whose skin color is just a shade lighter than yours is met with an irritated scowl before he could even say anything. It's only now that people start to miss your presence because anything is better than a walking warning sign.

It only takes a few weeks for him to crack. He's not usually this starved of attention but the knowledge that he won't see you for another two years has him itching at his wrists. While on the outside there doesn't seem to be any changes, he's perfectly calm and collected, but his facade breaks when he starts making rash decisions. When he heard that his senior Kaveh needed a place to stay due to his financial situation, he offered to live with him much to everyone and his own surprise. Even Kaveh suspiciously asks why Alhaitham is being so generous. He doesn't dignify it with a proper answer, only that he better get his situation fixed within the next two years or the scribe is kicking him out.

As the second year rolls past, it's Kaveh who brings up Alhaitham's sudden mood change. He seems...excited. Kaveh chalks it up to Alhaitham being happy that Kaveh is finally moving out but that'd be kind of low even for someone like Alhaitham. As someone who cares about the arts and romance, there's a certain care in how Alhaitham cleans the house. Every systematic movement is laced with a longing gaze. His wrists are rubbed raw that Kaveh has to physically step in or he might rub so hard he reaches the bone. But above all the dangerous aura around Alhaitham is replaced with something Kaveh can only describe as restless patience.

"Honey, I'm home!" your happy voice is accompanied by the loud slam of the door crashing against the wall. Kaveh is startled by a random stranger entering their house but mostly at the term of endearment. Alhaitham only lowers his book at your voice before going back to reading. A bit rude in Kaveh's opinion but he can see the small smile that Alhaitham tries to hide behind the pages of his book. It's not like you aren't a bit devious yourself. So you retaliate by plucking the book out of his hands, taking a quick glance at his page number before placing it on the desk.

"Welcome back. I assume your job went well?" Alhaitham sighs as you kick his legs apart, plop yourself down into his lap, and rest your head against his chest. If you weren't so enthralled by the masterpiece that was Alhaitham's physique, you would have laughed at how the blond-haired man seemed to stare owlishly at the scene. His eyes almost fall out of their heads when Alhaitham doesn't push you off, doesn't throw you over his shoulder, or even make the slightest hint of being irritated or embarrassed. He just places his hands around your waist, rests his chin on your head, and sends an icy glare to which the blond-haired man scoffs before excusing himself. It's not anything different from what he usually does to onlookers although this is you and you can tell just how weary he is. How deeply he relaxes in your hold as the tension melts from his shoulders. How his eyes search over your body for any injuries that you might have gotten. It does look like you got a bit roughed up during your stay at the Chasm. Your hair is cut shorter than he remembers, you've put on some muscle, and there are a few nicks and cuts running along parts of your skin that are visible. But none of that matters because you're here. You're finally here.

"Aww, Haitham did you miss me?" you tease only to quickly eat your words when he manuever's you sideways so he can pin your back against the couch. You're hit with a sense of deja vu back to two years ago when you were about to leave for this trip.

"The next time you take a commission that lasts longer than two weeks, I'm coming with you or you're not going at all," he grumbles as he tucks himself into the crook of your neck with no signs of leaving. You laugh now but he's dead serious.

Dottore

You aren't sure when it started but at some point, you've been labeled as "Dottore's Favourite". He always seems to be the slightest bit nicer if you happen to be there, his voice a smidge less aggressive, and a lot more touchy. He's a Doctor first so he doesn't want to be contaminated by whatever bacteria people have gathered. But with you, he always seems to have a hand on you. Either harshly pinching your cheeks like a child with a crazed grin whenever you mumble something he deems stupid or pulling your arm of out its socket as he yanks you through the hallways of his lab. You act almost as his shadow, permanently glued to his feet and forced to follow wherever he goes.

You wouldn't consider yourself exceptional at your job but you did know how to listen. Perhaps it was your blatant disregard for your lack of safety since your head was always in the clouds that let you do your job with a steady hand. You don't blame your college's, it's hard to work under so much stress. If you had to do quantum physics and whatever the hell smart people do with someone who could, and would, kill you on the spot if you couldn't tell him what 3567 x 438 was on the spot, you think you could have exploded and crumbled on the spot. But you were just the ditzy receptionist who twirled a pencil on her nose more than on a paper. The only thing you were required to do was make sure Dottore was never bothered and let him know if anyone important needed his attention.

You've seen the Regrator the most compared to the rest of the Harbingers. You don't know what a banker needs from a doctor but you're not about to ask. It's not your business and you aren't paid enough to care about what your boss does. Besides, for such a handsome face his presence creeps you out which is saying something considering there's a maniacal doctor that treats human lives like numbers on a stats page. But since you are his "receptionist" you have to make conversation with him. Most of your interaction extends to him asking if the Doctor is in and you politely saying that he's out. You both pointedly ignore the loud crashes and angry yelling from one of his segments behind the closed steel door.

Once again, you don't consider yourself exceptional at your job. You're just a lousy receptionist at a place that doesn't require it and who spends all their time spinning in the office chair than doing actual work. You're just as replaceable as any grunt in this hell hole. So when Tartaglia waltzes through the doors, blinking at you with his dead fish eyes, before nodding to himself and hauling you out of your chair you can only hope that Dottore manages to remember that he has a meeting with Pantalone at noon.

You're hardly gone for an hour. Tartaglia was just bored, bored enough to come to Dottore of all people, that he happened to spot you who looked equally as bored. He just roughed you up a little before he deemed you completely useless and a horrible fighter before sending you back on your way. Seriously, if he wanted a fight he should have just picked one of the skirmishers instead of a damn receptionist. Although you may have to reconsider your position because as soon as you walk back into the lab, a girl is throwing herself at you and demanding where you've been.

You don't get the chance to answer before she's hurriedly running down twisting hallways, down the stairs, and punching in codes so complicated it looked like she was trying to make music out of them. Whatever questions you have are ignored in favor of getting you somewhere as fast as possible. It begins to make sense when you're finally shoved into a room, the girl who dragged you all this way throwing herself onto her knees and begging for forgiveness for letting you wander off.

The lab is an absolute disaster. This isn't the organized chaos you're acquainted with but the aftermath of a manic episode you're familiar with. Glass shards dripping with fluorescent liquid, research notes torn apart that flutter around the room as faux snow, and one mad doctor in the middle.

"Where have you been?"

For someone who destroyed years worth of progress, he sounds oddly calm and collected. His deep voice is firm while he fiddles with a test tube of blue liquid, watching it slosh around before placing it onto a broken table. He barely pays any mind to the girl currently on her hands and knees, forehead pressed to the ground while she glares at you to say something.

"Out," is your reply. A casual shrug of your shoulders even though the Dottore's back is to you. He's not wearing his usual white coat. That's too bad, you think it looks kinda cool. Really goes with his bird aesthetic.

"Out...out you say. Out. Out. Out," he mumbles softly, each time he say's the word "out", he taps the test tube harder onto the table. The lull in conversation only makes the pressure of the room drop lower before the tension snaps and he hurls the test tube at the girl still on her knees. It's only thanks to your reflexes that you manage to grab the collar of her uniform and throw her back just as the test tube collides with the floor, the liquid melting away the concrete where her head was. You can only give her a nudge and a look towards the door for her to scramble to her feet and flee as far away as she can. The slam of the door behind her acting as the nail in the coffin as Dottore's body seems to slump in on itself.

"Where have you been?" he asks again, running a hand through his messy hair. He sounds and looks far more tired, his fingers twitching to reach out and hold you but his pride stopping him. So you push yourself and step forward into his space, reaching your hands out to cup his face and rubbing soothing circles into his porcelain skin. He doesn't lean into your touch but he doesn't push you away either.

"Getting tossed around by Tartaglia. He came by saying he was bored and I just so happened to be there," you say absentmindedly, twirling the long lock of blue hair that hangs off the sides of his mask. He responds by snatching your wrist, squeezing hard enough until your bones creak. "Were you worried? Did you think I ran away?"

He doesn't dignify your question with a response. Simply shrugging your hands off his face before he reaches up to pinch your cheeks, a familiar cackle vibrating from his chest.

"As if you would have anywhere to go."

———

[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@genshins1mpact @creatorofstars @xoneaboveallx @timmyitsmeeee @raingoesboomboom @duhsies @thegayrubberducky @openingssequence @onowie

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin impact headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #genshin childe x reader #genshin kaveh x reader #genshin ayato x reader #genshin alhaitham x reader #genshin dottore x reader #childe x reader #kaveh x reader #ayato x reader #alhaitham x reader #dottore x reader #genshin childe #genshin kaveh #genshin ayato #genshin alhaitham #genshin dottore #childe #kaveh #ayato #al haitham #dottore

[klausysworld]

I don’t know why but I really want something with Klaus breaking reads heart.

Maybe…. Reader and Cami have been kidnapped and Klaus has to choose who to save. He chooses Cami but before reader can be killed Elijah saves her.

Left for dead

Living with the originals was hard enough. Between the betrayals and the wars just within the family was overwhelming let alone outsiders going out of their way to destroy each of them.

Being with Klaus was already difficult, between his mood swings and temper tantrum’s he wasn't an easy person to love and yet I did.

Even when I realised he was in love with someone else, even whilst knowing he was kissing someone else, I didn't leave him. I loved him with everything in me whether it was killing me or not.

I had offered my life for his, I took life for his and I ruined my own life for his. With Klaus came his family and I did everything I could to welcome them as my own. Even after I found out that his sister knew that he was seeing someone else.

Hope was treated the way I would treat my own daughter and I loved more than anyone else to walk the planet. Maybe that was why I stayed, for Hope. Or maybe that’s what I tell myself because how could I have been pathetic enough to stay for a an who only saw me as a warm body.

For some reason I had it in my head that perhaps he loved both me and Camille. Maybe he thought I wouldn't accept it and so he kept it a secret but surely after everything he should know that I would never try to change him or invalidate his feelings. It was stupid to be okay with him seeing Cami behind my back, I was blinded by something I had created in my mind.

I would smile when Cami was near and I tried to talk to Klaus but he labelled me paranoid and brushed it off. So I thought maybe he regretted it and he didn't want me to know because he wanted to stop. Maybe he did still love me.

This was the ultimate test really.

Both myself and Camille were beaten until black, blue and bloody. A loop of our cries and screams echoed through my mind and bounced against the walls of whatever dungeon we were seemingly chained within. I had no way of knowing how long we had been there but my body and soul felt such a sense of relief when Klaus's voice rang through the building. That feeling only lasted a few seconds before our captures taunting replayed in my head:

"Klaus will choose between you both, he will decide who lives or dies. He may think that he can have it all, have you both but I won't let him well. Whichever one he chooses, the guilt from the other will eat away at him, he won't be able to stay with the other. You will all end up broken and alone." he had whispered cruelly.

Her heart pounded in her throat as she watched Klaus approach them both, his hands coated in red as he forced the bars that separated us apart and went to step through only to let out a gasp and drop to his knees. The with who had tortured us for however long appeared from thin air in front of Klaus and I automatically pulled my legs to my chest to hide in the corner.

"Only one of them leaves" he stated, a grin on his face. "I don't care which but you will choose one or they both die and the next to go missing will be your daughter"

At his words Klaus let out a vicious snarl and attempted to lurch forward at the man but a sharp pain forced its way to his head and caused a loud yell of pain to burst from within him.

I could feel my eyes burning with another flow of tears just watching his pain, knowing what he felt. I could see Cami staring straight at me. Over our time in here together she had often brought up Klaus's ultimatum, I told her that I knew that they loved each other. I told her that he would choose her. She was certain that I was wrong and that Klaus didn't love her but just used her as a release. But I knew what Klaus looked like when he was in love. Even so part of me hoped she was right, it was a dark thought, a horrible hope that I wish I didn't have but I really wanted it to be true.

I looked back to Camille, a tight lipped smile that was probably more of a grimace formed on my lips as I mouthed the words 'it'll be okay' to her and her head shook as tears slipped down her cheeks.

Cami was sweet, she was lovely and I loathed it. She wanted to die instead of me, she said I deserved to live more than she did. That I was Hope's second mother I was apart of the Mikaelsons. She apologised for ever being with Klaus and it just made me feel worse. I thought that maybe they were lies, maybe she secretly hoped that Klaus would choose her and I would be left to die.

I couldn't tell and it didn't really matter anymore. Not when I realised that Klaus was right in front of me. I felt a small spark of hope as his arms wrapped around me and he pulled my close to his chest. A soft sniffle left him and his lips pressed to the side and top of my head

"I'm so sorry" his voice whispered with a crack and I went to tell him it was okay before I felt him pulling away and I realised what he was apologising for "forgive me" he uttered as he made his way to Cami.

My eyes stayed blurry with tears but they didn't fall as a complete feeling of numbness spread throughout me completely. I could hear my captures sickening laugh spin around me and I could hear Camille asking Klaus what he was doing.

"Klaus- go back to her" she whispered but he shook his head

"I love you" he admitted and a bitter laugh left my lips. I covered my mouth with my hands and pressed my forehead against my knees. I shouldn’t have been surprised and I shouldn’t have been so upset. I knew he loved her, I knew he would choose but for some reason it hurt so much more when he actually confirmed it.

I could hear Camille apologising to me as Klaus lifted her up, carrying her to a safety I thought I would never again know.

As soon as they left hands were on me, grabbing and dragging me by my hair to force me to crawl wherever he wanted me. Uncontrollable pain shot through me continuously and I had no time to comprehend the sobs that shook my body. I felt my back arch painfully, almost breaking but not quite, my head was forced back so my neck was bared and a sharp knife went to the edge of my neck.

"it's unfortunate really..." the voice uttered before the blade began to sink into my throat. My eyes closed and I welcomed the quick death but the pressure stopped and a thud sounded from before me.

Fingers pressed to the place the knife had began to cut, a familiar scent engulfed me and an arm circled my waist.

"You're alright darling" the voice whispered, pulling me into an embrace making me grab onto the back of his suit silently. "He's gone now Y/n. You're safe." he murmured softly, rubbing my back before i felt him pull back a little bit. My eyes slowly cracked open to see his face, his deep dark eyes boring into mine with a knowing look of pity. Silently I watched as an array of reds and purples scattered under his chocolate brown eyes and his pearly fangs dipped into the tough skin of his wrist. The fresh wound was lifted to my lips and I accepted the metallic taste with a sigh. I drank for much longer than I needed, I expected he would pull be off but his hand only pet the back of my head gently

"Good girl" he whispered "just heal". His touch made my heart hurt and I didn't bother trying to stop the tears from falling anymore. My hands clutched onto his jacket desperately and I gulped his blood down as though it was water.

Soft touches were given to the skin of my face before his silk handkerchief cleaned at the dirt and dried blood that had dripped down my neck. Reluctantly I pulled away from his wrist and licked my lips clean. He wiped his own wrist and tucked the material away into his pocket. Elijah proceeded to pull the jacket off of his body and instead wrapped it around my shoulders. The inside was warm and smelt of home.

My eyes felt heavy with exhaustion and I gave him a tired smile making him frown.

"I'll bring you home now okay?" he whispered but I shook my head

"I can't go back" I muttered "I won't stay with him anymore. I should have left ages ago" I admitted and his eyes grew glossier.

"Where should I take you?" He asked gently and I shrugged

"Airport? Train station? I don't care just don't tell anyone you saved me? Please?" I begged softly and he nodded.

"I'll give you whatever you need" he promised "anything"

#the originals #klaus mikaelson #the vampire diaries #klaus mikealson fanfiction #klaus mikaelson one shot #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus mikaelson x reader #rebekah mikaelson #the vampire diares imagine #niklaus imagines #tvd klaus #elijah mikaelson #klaus m #klaus mikaelson x y/n #kol mikaelson #niklaus mikaelson #klaus michaelson #tvd universe #hope mikaelson #klaus mikaelson headcanon #klaus mikaelson fluff #klaus mikaelson yandere #klaus mikealson smut #klaus mikaelson x yn #elijah mikealson one shot #klaus mikealson x reader #klaus angst #tvdu angst #angst no happy ending #elijah x reader

[norrisleclercf1]

It’s Too Early

Pairing: Charles x Pregnant!Reader

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Tough pregnancy, premature birth, PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome), IVF mentioned, angst, fluff at the end

Synopsis: Being pregnant hasn’t been easy, especially when Charles is away for the season and can’t be with you 24/7 like he wants to be. So what happens when he finds out you went into labor from a reporter? Chaos, utter chaos

A/N: Wrote this morning and I picked PCOS because that's something I suffer with all the time, and felt the need to write a fic about now, everyone's experience with PCOS and the topics discussed in this are different, I did research and put my own hardships and feelings in this, I hope everyone reads with an open mind and enjoys this but also Dad!Charles who could give up Dad!Charles

Charles would kill for you; he really would. And right now, he wanted nothing more than to kill the FIA, who would refuse to let him sit out this season to be with you, his pregnant wife.

Finding out you were pregnant was the happiest day of his life, but soon it turned...not a nightmare, but a living hell. You were classified as a high-risk pregnancy due to polycystic ovarian syndrome, something you let Charles know when you first started dating.

He was there through the painful periods, the cramps that left you defenseless and laying in bed all day, to the doctor visits and the mood swings. Through it all, he was still with you and loved you more and more each day.

When you both married and settled down a bit more, the conversation of becoming pregnant came up. Charles knew the risks and had done research before bringing it up with you; he even explored other ways of having children. But you told him you wanted to try naturally and go from there before discussing different ways and seeing what happens.

After 3 years of trying and doing everything, even trying IVF, that damn stick showed that fucking plus sign. You sat in the bathroom for hours just staring at the positive test, and that's precisely how Charles found you when he came home. On the bathroom floor, staring at the test.

He can still feel the tile on his skin as he hugs and kisses you, calming your fears away from the worst thoughts in your head.

It hasn't been an easy pregnancy, from cramps to horrible morning sickness, to the doctors worried you might give birth way too early, even being put on bedrest for the rest of the pregnancy due to worries of preeclampsia. Charles fought hard with the FIA, saying he needed to be with you, but they refused to listen and told him he needed to race. You talked him off the ledge as he called to quit and stay home.

"Charles stop; this is ridiculous. You love racing; you aren't quitting because of me." You groaned, going in circles with your mess of a husband.

"No! What's ridiculous is that the FIA won't even see why my wife has a high-risk pregnancy and that I'm needed home, not driving in goddamn circles!" He snaps, slamming his phone down and pulling his hair.

"Char, breath." You whisper from the bed, in agony, simply because you can't get up and comfort your husband.

Charles, almost sensing your dilemma moves from the end of the bed to laying down next to you, placing his head on your chest, careful of your swollen breasts, knowing how much they've been hurting lately. No words are said as fingers run through his hair to calm him down and stop him from making a huge mistake.

"Charles, I'll have your mother here with me. Me and the baby are going to be okay. Listen, if anything changes, I will call you immediately. You can't miss this; you have a real chance this year and must show the world that Charles Leclerc will be a World Champion." Your words convince him as he lets off that familiar defeated sigh of his, making your smile grow at this.

"Immediately. Do you understand? I don't care if it's stupid like your back itches you call me." He bargains, making you laugh and nod in agreement.

Pascale has been staying with you for only a month, and you finally reached the safe zone, where if you did go into labor, it wouldn't be so dangerous for you or the baby. It was race day, and Charles was in Silverstone, needing to finish P2 or higher to challenge Max for the title.

It was a typical day as Pascale fixed you a light snack as you weren't feeling well, your lower back was hurting, and it felt like your pelvis had its own heartbeat. You didn't think much of it as it was a hot day in Monte Carlo, and you had read in books that it was customary to feel this, so you didn't say anything to Pascale to not worry her. The race was halfway through when the first real cramp startled you to the point you dropped your cup; thankfully, it was rubber, so it didn't break.

"Y/n? Honey, what's wrong?" Pascale was right there in an instant picking up the cup, looking over you.

"Just...a cramp, it's nothing." You mummer rubbing your stomach but flinch from how much it hurts to touch it.

"Y/n, when did this start?" Pascale asks calmly, knowing it was wise to keep you calm and not start to freak out because you might be in early labor.

"Last night, but it's picked up this morning. It's nothing, Pascale, honestly, just the baby moving." You try to reason, not wanting to jump straight to labor.

"Y/n, I'm calling for an ambulance, okay? I think you might be in early labor, and with you being on bed rest, they need to help me, alright." She mummers pushing your hair back, trying everything to keep you calm.

"Okay, okay." You repeat as the cramp passes, and you hear her on the phone telling them everything as you force yourself to pay attention to the race and not to the growing pit in your stomach that you might be in labor.

They get here fast as you breathe through another cramp. Tears start to flutter down your cheeks, the realization of you possibly in labor while Charles isn't here, but in the UK. They ask you question after question and share a look, a look that sets you off.

"No! No! I'm not in labor, okay? I'm just having some cramps, which is normal; I have PCOS; okay, nope, I'm not." You argue as the medics alert the hospital to your condition.

"Mrs. Leclerc, I understand that you are only 29 weeks and you're scared, but right now, you are in early labor, and we need to get you to the hospital as soon as we can, okay?" The friendly medic tries to reason with you, but you refuse to see reason.

"I'm sorry, but no. Charles isn't here; he should be here; I can't do this alone. I'm sorry, but I'm not going anywhere." You argue as Pascale packs your bags and looks over at you.

"Y/n, I know you are scared, but Charles isn't here right now, but he will be okay. I'll call him when the race is over and let him know immediately what's going on. But, please, if you wait, it'll be worse for you and the baby." She can reason with you, finally getting you to the hospital as you try hard to stay calm and not make things worse.

But of course, Pascale could never make the phone call as everyone was too busy keeping you calm.

Charles was on top of the world. He had won Silverstone and was only 4 points behind Max now. Sticky with champagne, he checks his phone, looking for the standard text from you, but not seeing a text from you, he hits dial, calling you. But, you don't pick up, making him call you again, yet again, you don't pick up.

He reasons you must be asleep, knowing you had been super tired lately, and his mother said everything was fine. You're eating normally and just sleeping or reading. He moves and takes a picture of the trophy, telling you he won it for you and the baby and he couldn't wait to get back home to you both. Sadly, he's pulled away from his phone to go do media even though he wants to head to the airport and go home, but he needs to do this first.

Only 4 more hours before heading to the plane, then another 5 to 6 hours before he's back home to you.

He makes it through all 5 interviews before coming to the last one, Pierre on his right and Carlos on his left as they all give their final interviews.

"Charles, amazing race. I have to say that it was fabulous to see you win this and to have your teammate and your childhood best friend up there. It must've been something." The reporter gushes, making Charles smile at how genuine the reporter is.

"Yes, um, having Carlos and Pierre be there next to me was something. I mean, the Red Bulls put up one hell of a fight, but we know not to get too comfortable and that we really need to start pushing it more and more each day so we can close the gap and pull in front of them." Charles smiles.

"Yes, this must be a wonderful day with you; with what winning Silverstone and your wife going into labor, you must be just on top of the world." Charles freezes, hearing the words come out of the reporter's mouth and let's put a nervous laugh.

"I'm sorry? My wife isn't in labor," he argues, starting to fidget and lick his lips.

''Really? Reports are that she went into labor at the start of lap 23 and has been at the hospital, your mother." Having cut the camera, realizing that Charles honestly had no idea.

"Nope, she's not, okay, she's not in labor. She would've called." he snaps, hands fumbling for his phone, trying to call you again. This time, it goes to voicemail, sending his heart plummeting to his feet.

"Alright, that's enough for today." Pierre voices and grabs Charles leading him away from prying eyes as he keeps calling you repeatedly.

"Charles. Charles, stop!" Pierre yells, snatching the phone away as his friend cries. Fear takes over Charles as he starts to imagine the worst. What if something was seriously wrong, and you went into early labor. You're only 29 weeks. That's 6 months. Yes, the baby would be okay, but would you?

"Come on, let's go to the hotel. Get your stuff, and you and I will fly out and call your mom. Okay, let's go." Pierre reasons, dragging his friend away and to the cars trying to calm down Charles.

'Pierre calls Pascale and puts her on the speaker; thankfully, the woman picks up after 3 rings.

"Why the fuck didn't you call me the moment she went into labor? I wouldn't give a damn if I was still in the car. Why didn't you call!" Charles rips out before Pascale can say anything, and Pierre groans, knowing that if the situation was different, the Ferrari driver's mother would bury his ass in the ground.

"Because Charles, I've been trying to keep her calm. She's freaking out because you're not here, and honestly, honey, I forgot, as I was trying to make sure your wife's blood pressure doesn't get worse; now, get here as fast as you can because she's almost fully dilated and she needs you Charles, and she needs you to be calm and strong for her because right now she's not." Pascale hangs up, leaving the car in a stiff eerie silence.

"Get me to the airport as fast as you can," Charles whispers, making Pierre nod to ensure he'd get there.

"I can't do this, Pascale; nope, I'm sorry, but I can't. It hurts too much, please, make it stop." you cry as your mother-in-law soothes you. She tells you Charles is on the way. But that did nothing to comfort you. It only made you more anxious about the fact that this would happen.

"Y/n, I know you're scared but Charles will be here soon, okay? But you can't stop pushing, okay? All these nurses and doctors are here to help you, ow let them." She urges as you scream out from another contraction.

"I want Charles." You sob, collapsing against the bed from exhaustion. This was too much for you, the pain, Charles, and everyone in the room; you can't do this.

"Baby!" A familiar voice cries out as the door swings open, and Charles runs in. His hair is messy, and he looks so bewildered you could kiss him, but all you can do is scream.

"WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?!" Making Pascale and everyone else jump, Charles just smiles and pushes everyone out of the way to get to your side.

"I'm sorry, I was on a plane, and my phone wasn't working." And lies, not wanting to tell the truth of no one telling him but a reporter that you were in labor.

"You're lucky I'm giving birth right now or so; help me go-" Your words get cut off by another contraction, making you grab Charles's hand and squeeze it so hard he'd thought it'd break.

"Okay, Mrs. Leclerc, we need you to push." the doctor instructs while Pascale slips outside, startled to see half the grid in the hallway.

"Come on, let's give them some privacy." Pascale smiles, wrapping an arm around Pierre as she leads the boys down the hallway.

"I love you," Charles whispers, kissing your forehead, not caring for a minute you are drenched in sweat.

"I love you too, but we're adopting or surrogacy next time." You cry as you get one more contraction, everyone yelling at you to push, and soon your cries are mixed in with smaller ones.

"He's here. He's here." Charles repeats, kissing you all over and making sure you are okay. He wanted to check on his baby, but first, he needed to ensure you were alright.

"It's a boy? We had a little boy." You whimper, leaning into Charles's chest as you cry in relief that everything went as smoothly as possible.

"He's perfect, Y/n, all ten toes and fingers, and god, I love you so much." Charles mummers finally kissing you while the nurse cleans up your son.

"Here you go." the nurse smiles, handing you your son, who cries his little lungs out but soon stops when he's placed on your chest.

"He'll need to go to NICU for just a night so we can go over everything and make sure there are no complications, but after that, he can come down here and stay with you, Momma." the nurse smiles, going back to help make sure your vitals and everything else was good.

'Charles, and you can't help but stare at your little boy while you start to feel that ache and tiredness settle in, but Charles holds you both, his entire world in his arms.

"We need a name," Charles whispers, making you hum in agreement.

"I've got the perfect one. Also, tell Pierre I say thank you for getting you here."

Charles blinks down at you, confused, but you just giggle.

"I can smell his cologne." Making Charles laugh right along with you.

You fell asleep after picking the name, and the nurses follow Charles to the waiting room where everyone is, Pascale the first to see her son.

"Everyone," Charles starts making the others turn their heads, Isa and Carmen gushing at the tiny little baby in Charles's arms.

"Meet Pierre Hervé Jules Leclerc." Charles announces, making everyone laugh as Pierre stands there stunned, looking at his best friend holding his son.

"Really?" Pierre asks, making Charles nod. "Of course, if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have gotten here in one piece. Also, Y/n says thank you." Charles smiles but adds, "she could smell your cologne on my clothes." Making everyone laugh at this.

"Can I hold him?" Pascale asks, but Charles shakes his head no.

"Sorry, but he won't be held by anyone but us and the staff for right now; he's got to go to the NICU overnight, and frankly, I want Y/n to get a say who holds him first after us, Mother." Charles smiles, but Pascale just beams, seeing Charles transform before her.

"Say goodbye to all your uncles and aunts, Pierre," Charles whispers, laying him in the trolly as the nurse reassures him that he'll be fine and he can come up and visit if he'd like.

Everyone watches as the Ferrari driver just smiles at his boy and leans down, whispering something to the baby before pulling away and watching the nurses take him a floor up.

"What did you say?" Pierre asks his friend.

"We'd always love and protect him, and he's only allowed to root for Ferrari." He laughs, making Pascale slap her son on the arm, everyone joining in on the laughter, a memory no one would forget.

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 imagine #f1 2022 #f1 scenario #formula one #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles imagine #charles x reader #charles x y/n #f1 charles leclerc #Charles leclerc angst #dad!charles #tw: pregnancy #tw: premature births #tw: pcos #tw: rough pregnancy #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc x reader

[natlovesls2]

You're Lying, Right?

Lando x Fem!Reader x Charles

*ੈ✩‧₊˚warnings: swearing, drinking and mentions of alcohol (might be inaccurate, I don’t drink), format might be weird (this wasn't saving the way I wanted it to),

*ੈ✩‧₊˚word count: 1k

*ੈ✩‧₊˚Summary: Lando and Charles teach you to kiss after you confess that you've never been kissed

.ೃ࿐Request: Idk if you watched the movie Were the Millers?? But can you do imagine where reader never had a first kiss and charles and lando give her her first kiss ?? Like the scene with Jenn Anniston, will poulter, and Emma roberts ???

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙

The three of you had been drinking for whatever reason, and to be completely honest, you couldn’t exactly remember why the bottles of alcohol had been brought out in the first place. However, you knew the drink in your hand was stronger than the stuff you usually drank, but after the horrible few days you had, it was needed. Its surprisingly sweet smell inviting you to take big gulps. The burn as it passed down your throat numbing the thoughts of your busy life and failed dates. You subconsciously continued to fill your glass with the earthy-fruity liquid, one glass after another– silently watching Charles and Lando interact with one another.

"You're awfully quiet," Lando said from beside you, reaching for your drink to fill it with something new, hesitating when he noticed your slight frown. 

"She had a date yesterday; I can only assume it went horribly," Charles added, moving from his spot to lean against the armrest of the sofa. 

Lando hummed at the newfound information, disapprovingly shaking his head, deciding you had had enough to drink– knowing another glass would not help alleviate whatever pain you felt. “Don't tell me you're attempting to drown your sorrows with liquor. What even happened on this date of yours?"

"The date itself wasn't the worst; it was actually the best I've had in a while– but when the date ended, he expected a kiss. And I know I have to have my first kiss at some point, but I didn't want to disappoint him."

They stared at you for a long time, letting silence settle in the room– you were suddenly aware of the increased warmth. Regret and embarrassment immediately fill your body, urging you to want to vomit up everything you had been drinking. Of course, you had to have the loosest fucking lips known to man when drunk. Actually, you couldn't fully blame the alcohol; the amount you had consumed only slightly gave you a buzzing feeling– enough to feel tipsy. 

“You’re lying, right? I mean, you have to be joking, no?” Lando's small laughter stopped as he noticed your humorless demeanor and sick-looking face– awkwardly clearing his throat, body shifting at Charles's glaring gaze. 

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about. Everyone experiences life differently; it just so happens to be that you haven't had your first kiss," Charles nodded in your direction, still glaring at Lando– urging him to add to what he said, hoping to ease your embarrassment. 

"Yeah, absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. I mean, some people find that sweet."

"Obviously, my date didn't find it sweet... I'm surprised he didn't laugh in my face. Honestly, it fucking pathetic," you let out a dry laugh, picking at the strings of your ripped jeans. You sighed, looking up in time to notice Lando nudging Charles and nodding in your direction. He mouths something to Lando, which you can't quite make out; you'd never been good at reading lips or people. Lando opened and closed his lips a few times as if having a struggle with himself– unsure if he should say something or let Charles take control of the situation. 

"We could always teach you how to kiss," he finally says, watching your face for any sort of reaction, noticing the way your eyes widen at the nonchalantness of his words. "–only if you want to, of course," he quickly adds, sensing your hesitation and overall embarrassment over the situation. 

You feel the world around you slow down, the noise slowly dissipating– replaced by a low ringing sound you can't quite place. You barely notice yourself nodding, nervously running your hands down the front of your jeans, attempting to get rid of the clammy feeling– which only increased at the soft touch of Lando's hand on your cheek. "It's weird if you keep your eyes open," he whispered, holding back a laugh, not wanting to make you any more embarrassed than you already were. You closed your eyes and swallowed the little saliva you had– an attempt to calm yourself, finding your mouth extremely dry. Your heart quicked at this; what if the kiss was too dry? The desire to vomit returned and your throat tightened itself as a final attempt to hold everything down.

 Lando's hand gently caressed your cheek, trailing down to your jaw, pulling you in closer– his warm breath falling against your skin. His lips hovered over your own for a while before they finally connected in an awkwardly stiff kiss. "It wasn't bad," he reassured you, smiling when he noticed the way your eyes nervously bounced around the room– avoiding his own. "Just relax a bit, don't be too stiff." 

He leaned forward again, soft lips moving against your own; in complete contrast to the first kiss, this one was looser– relaxed and something you could see yourself enjoying despite the foreign feeling. His hand moved up to tangle itself in your hair, his tongue lightly running against your bottom lip. You weren't sure if it was the alcohol that finally reached your senses helping you relax, but whatever it was that possessed you to open your lips was definitely on your side. The sweetness of your past drinks mixed with the bitterness of whatever he had been drinking. "See, I told you you just needed to loosen up." 

"I don't know... I feel like you're only being nice about it."

"I'll tell you the truth; let's see what Lando has taught you– or if he taught you well," Charles says, his voice reminding you that he had been there watching the whole interaction, sitting beside you on the other side of the sofa. 

His warm hand pulls you towards him, connecting his lips against yours in a confident kiss. While Lando's kiss had felt firm and loose– slightly messy, this was a lot more calculated. He pulled you closer, hands moving to gently grip the hair at the nape of your neck. "You can definitely impress your next date."

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x y/n #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc imagine #lando norris imagine #x reader #f1 x female reader #fem!reader

[ellecdc]

Hi!! I saw your requests were open and I’d love to take a shot with one!

So I have a partner that I’ve been with for almost a year and it wasn’t until the last few months that I’ve realized how toxic and horrible the relationship is. So- I was hoping that I could request a poly!marauders x reader (starting platonic and then romantic?) and reader has a partner that’s really toxic and the boys help the reader figure out how to break up and take care of herself (or themself/himself!) and then once the reader and the partner break up, the marauders take care of reader and then eventually admitting their love to reader and etc etc etc you take away the rest!!! Thank you so much!!!!!! I love love love your work!!!!!!

ok first of all: if you haven't already, please dump them? they're not worth it babes. if it costs you your peace - it's too expensive thank you for your request; hope you love it <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader

CW: brief mention of previously toxic relationship, grief over end of relationship

You knew this was for the best, but it didn't make it any less painful.

It'd been about a month and a half since you and your...ex broke up, and exactly 12 days to the minute of no contact. Your mind was still reeling from the previous few weeks since you'd decided to finally end things before you finally blocked their number.

It proved to you that you had done the right thing; they were not good for you, and they're behaviour only proved that.

So why did you still feel so incredibly wrong?

You felt a mixture of things. Overwhelming grief at not only the loss of someone that was a huge part of your life, but also grief over the loss of everything you ever hoped your life would be with that person.

You also felt guilty; guilty for ending things (even though it was the right thing to do), guilty for spending so long trying to force a relationship that wasn't meant to last, and guilty for falling in love with the potential that someone had - which only left both of you disappointed.

It was probably overkill to have turned your phone off completely, but after blocking their number, you couldn't help but jump every time your phone went off - thinking, hoping, dreading that it might be your ex. You also couldn't handle scrolling through instagram to see all of your other friends, happy, smiling, in love, and not feeling like their world was falling to pieces.

Your pity party was interrupted by a gentle knock on the door. You were considering ignoring it when a less gentle knock followed which you recognized to be Sirius'.

"You don't have to bang, Sirius." You could hear James chide quietly as you unlocked and swung the door open.

The somewhat terse conversation ended abruptly as the three figures beamed at you: James widely, Remus kindly, and Sirius cheekily.

"Well hello, gorgeous!" Sirius cheered at you as he pulled you into a quick embrace.

"Uh, hi!" You said back, though your voice sounded higher than usual. When was the last time you'd used it?

"Mind if we come in?" Remus asked gently before James and Sirius were shouldering their ways into your apartment anyway.

"Uhm, yeah. Sure." You said as you followed them in.

James pulled you into his side as Sirius made himself at home on your couch and Remus sat at your kitchen table. "How've you been, sweetheart?" He asked.

You blushed at the nickname and ducked your chin to your chest. "I'm alright, James. How have you guys been?"

"Miserable." Sirius answered immediately. "Completely miserable without our favourite girl around. It's been too long."

"You don't have to apologize," Remus interjected as you began to defend yourself. "We just wanted to check in, that's all."

You smiled at the three boys, suddenly very self-conscious of your apartment and your outfit - neither of which had been tidied nor changed in the last few days.

"Come sit with me." Sirius said as he patted the couch beside him and then opened his arm for you to sit under.

You moved towards him obediently and he quickly pulled you in tight to his side and pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

"So, what can we do? Can I help you tidy?" Remus asked enthusiastically.

You immediately shook your head no as your eyes widened in horror. "Absolutely not, no. Thank you, but honestly, I'm fine."

Sirius groaned as he leaned to whisper into your ear conspiratorially, you startled and turned to face him, only to have your noses centimetres apart.

"Listen, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret: Rem here has been just sick with worry, and it would really make him feel better if you let him feel like he's helping you." He stage whispered as he motioned toward the said worried boy with his head.

Had you not been so shocked by the lack of distance between you and Sirius, you may have seen Remus gently roll his eyes at Sirius' theatrics.

"Help the poor sod out, give him something to do." He encouraged you with a salacious wink.

"I, uhm... I guess I've been meaning to catch up on the dishes?" You stated as a question, grimacing at the days worth of dishes in your sink.

Remus jumped up happily throwing a "Got it!" over his shoulder.

"What about me, gorgeous? Anything I can do? Maybe laundry?" James asked eagerly.

"You are not doing my laundry, James." You answered bluntly.

"Got it, got it. Okay, maybe I can clean your bathroom?"

Somehow, that was worse.

"Okay, you can do my laundry." You acquiesced.

James whooped, actually whooped, like a cartoon character before he started down the hallway he knew lead to your bedroom.

"See? Look how happy you made them." Sirius said as he kneaded at the flesh of your thigh with his hand.

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"What's your job?" You asked.

You suddenly felt like it was the wrong question when Sirius' grin grew exponentially. "Oh, I get to sit here with my favourite girl."

"We're taking turns, Pads!" James called from down the hallway.

"Semantics." Sirius muttered before he turned his attention back to you.

"Listen; I won't make you talk about this if you don't want to, but I need you to know that we're here for you, alright? Like really, really here for you; whatever you need. I know you've probably convinced yourself that you're all alone and unloved. But we need you to know that's not true. You're not unloved, never could be; not with us around."

Your sinuses filled painfully behind your eyes as you moved to hide your face into Sirius' shoulder.

"What did you do?" Remus asked Sirius, sounding (gently) horrified.

"Just told her we loved her."

James came out of your room at Remus' concerned tones. "We're supposed to be making her feel better, Pads." He sighed.

"You are." You muttered from your place in Sirius' shoulder.

It was true; you had convinced yourself you were all alone and completely unloveable. If even your ex couldn't manage to love you, how would anyone else?

But with Sirius' arms around your shoulder and his lips pressed into your hair, James coming up behind you two and giving your hand a comforting squeeze, and Remus running to put a pot of tea on for the lot of you like that might be what stitches your heart back together; you certainly felt loved.

#marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter #the marauders #poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x you #ellecdc fics

[fairlyang]

miguel but he opens a portal to your room while your asleep.. and steals your used panties AND THIS HAPPENS MULTIPLE TIMES BEHIND YOUR BACK and confront him about it when you see the cameras.

I GOT TO WRITING SOON AS I WOKE UP N READ THIS- I LOVEDDDD THIS IDEA TY 🫶🏼🫶🏼 we love pervy miguel and I’m sorry for the wait anon hope you like it<3

Stealing 🕷️

w/c: 2.4K

pairing: pervy!miguel x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut MDNI!!!! pervy miguel w strong sense of smell, panties stealer, does it often, checks cameras, gets caught, confrontation, teasing, stroking, having him show you, more panty sniffing, jerking him off w panties

Miguel always seemed to have a strong sense of smell. Especially since he didn’t have a lot of the same spider powers as everyone else like spidey sense, but his other senses were more heightened than normal.

This meant a couple of things, for example maybe he could smell an anomaly from a mile away.

Or even know who walked into his office just from their smell.

Or in another sense, have an urge to always smell you. More specifically, your arousal.

He really couldn’t help it.

Especially knowing you usually touched yourself as soon as you got home at night and changed out of the soaked panties to sleep in fresh ones so if he were to snatch the ones from your bin, his sense of smell would be on overdrive.

The first time he did it he felt guilty but that quickly changed when he brought your panties up to his nose and he almost instantly grew hard.

He held your panties to his nose with his left hand and with his right was stroking himself, wishing so badly he could’ve been with you in bed, fucking you to sleep but instead had reports and the multiverse to worry about.

But still that didn’t stop him from at least jacking off to the thought of you while he smelled the slick stain you left on the pretty blue pair.

Precum was leaking down his shaft and his body felt so overwhelmed and even hot. It didn’t even take long for him to cum all over his thighs because your smell was just so addicting, intoxicating.

Which is why there was no shame in stealing more of your panties after that.

Most of the time he always stayed back, whether it be it took long to catch an anomaly, or he was helping someone out at the lab, he didn’t give a shit he’d open up a portal straight to your shared bedroom, go through the laundry basket until he finds a pair that wasn’t just used.

Lucky he was that you were a heavy sleeper…

He ended up having a sick routine of keeping one pair for a solid two days until the smell was practically gone and he had to replace it. He’d portal back and dump the old one, only to get a newer one then to do the same routine until it was laundry day.

After that it was pretty difficult to wait around another day when more laundry would be in the basket so it wasn’t so obvious that he’s been snatching up your used panties left and right.

And this routine worked out well for him, so well he ended up doing it for three weeks. Luckily not catching your period week.

Which might’ve been the whole reason his sense of smell has been overbearing towards you in the first place.

The pain was so horrible and even worse, the urge to have him pounding into you was unbearable.

And you didn’t want to deal with the messiness of period sex. So you dealt with the fucked up cramps and occasional migraine all while feeling the horniest you’ve ever been.

Right at the end of your last cycle, soon as you were in the clear you did not hesitate to practically pounce on him. But the smell of your arousal was somehow even better than it usually was so he didn’t hesitate to ram himself into you as soon as you were both stripped down.

You were just so horny and couldn’t help how bad you needed him and how would he ever deny a rough fuck?

Little did he know how obsessed he’d become with your scent.

So after that he couldn’t really be blamed for wanting to snatch up your dirty panties and use them as his inspiration for a good orgasm because his nose was working overtime.

And thinking he was in the clear, he didn’t even bother to stop his antics when one brutal day came by.

You lived in an apartment with Miguel, although he wouldn’t always sleep there he made sure everything was paid for so you wouldn’t have to worry your pretty head about anything.

Unfortunately it happened to be in an occasional fucked up neighborhood, sometimes there’d be robberies to local bodegas or people stealing cars in the middle of the night.

But luckily Miguel’s overprotective ass had put up cameras soon as you had moved in. A ring doorbell, a camera facing the front door, one facing the bedroom, and another outside the fire escape facing the streets.

So knowing this, it was a no brainer when one of your neighbors had told you their car got robbed and your head instantly remembered about the cameras.

As soon as you got back to your apartment from getting the mail (and the tea), you went into Miguel’s office and turned on his laptop before quickly finding the application that had all the cameras.

You rewinded back to the hour your neighbor had said they were robbed, recording a short video for them to show for insurance when you stumble across Miguel portaling in to your shared bedroom.

You were confused as to why, when he walked over to your sleeping body and covered you with the blanket making you smile.

So sweet.

Then he walked by your closet and your mouth nearly fell off the floor.

He was digging through your dirty laundry.

You blinked at the screen in shock, absolutely surprised that he would even do this.

All while you were in deep slumber, not having any idea what was happening feet away from you.

Your jaw nearly hit the floor when you saw him take a pair of your panties up to your nose and just like that he was gone.

Your eye involuntarily twitched and after just staring at the screen you realized you had to bring this up. You had to say something.

But you weren’t exactly bothered by it. You were conflicted. Confused.

But then all that switched to being turned on because it was your boyfriend of all people doing this.

You bit your lip and rewind it back, letting it play again.

That was when you realized he had another pair in his hand which he buried deep in your laundry basket before finding another one.

Almost as if to replace it.

Your eyes went wide again and you could only stare at the scene before you, in shock yet again.

How long has he been doing this?

You set up a plan to catch him in the act, assuming he’d come back for a new pair. You slipped off the pair you were wearing all day and laid it right on top then went to bed anticipating Miguel coming in.

But it took a while and it took a lot of willpower to stay up considering your body is so use to sleeping so early but tonight would be an exception.

So you kept your attention up by having music play softly in the room because you always needed peace and quiet to sleep so surely you won’t fall asleep.

With much luck, you stayed awake just head on your pillow with the soft blanket covering your body when suddenly the familiar sound of a portal popping up quickly caught your attention.

You closed your eyes and prayed he didn’t know you were awake. You then heard his slow and quiet footsteps as they made their way over to your side of the bed.

You then felt his lips leave a soft kiss on your forehead before quickly disappearing. He walked towards your closet and you were internally freaking out that he was doing this.

Suddenly you sit up on the bed and eyes now open, shocked to see Miguel throwing in an old used pair of your panties and grabbing the one from the top. Only to first give it a small sniff before sighing. Holy shit-

You cleared your throat which made Miguel freeze but it was too late to do anything.

“It’s not what it looks like-“ he starts but you just wave him off.

“You could’ve just told me you know..” you start with a soft tone, not wanting him to get the wrong impression.

“The surprise on my face when I saw you digging through my laundry- you would’ve loved it for sure.” You say and give him a grin which only made him curse under his breath.

He knew the jig was up but you weren’t mad. Seemed more amused than anything.

You beckoned him over and he walked over to your side of the bed while you pet his spot. Without a word being said, he climbed over you then laid down next to you. “Lia wanted me to check our cameras because she was robbed last night…” you say and he sighs somehow already defeated.

“Don’t worry love, I'm not mad or upset, it just came as a shock.” You explain and he chuckles.

“It shocked me as well, honestly.” He replied as you nodded and flipped to lay on your side while facing him.

“Hm why’s that?” You ask and swing an arm over to lay on his torso.

“Didn’t think I’d like it so much.” He answers truthfully as you trace along his covered abs slowly.

“What do you like about it?” You press, lowering your hand down as his breathing becomes more rapid.

“Your smell- the arousal.” He mutters while gripping your used panties with his left hand.

You hum and scoot closer to him, making sure you are touching. You lean in and kiss his right bicep while your hand went even lower, staying put right above where his already aching bulge was. “I don’t mind it y’know…” You whisper as he starts to breathe heavily.

“You’re too good to me.” He murmurs, looking at you with only one thing in his mind.

“I try.” You whisper and start to palm him over his suit.

Within seconds he quickly pressed a button on his watch and his suit disappeared making you touch his cock. You looked up at him and he looked like he was going to combust any second.

You then looked down and his tip was already leaking which didn’t come as much of a surprise. “Maybe you should show me how you do it.” You whisper, earning yourself a groan as you slowly stroked him.

He brought his left hand up with your panties to his nose then put his right hand on top of yours, moving your hand up and down his cock.

You sit up a little and lean over to let some drool fall from your mouth down to the tip, slowly trickling down while you go back to your previous position.

You link your left arm to his right while you make sure every inch of his cock is wet. You look up at him and see him with his eyes closed, mouth opened in the shape of an o while you’re still stroking him at the pace he set.

His nose was buried in your panties, most likely still stained with your slick from seeing the camera footage over and over again. “Bet you looked so good doing this in your office.” You murmur, making him moan and sink back into the pillow.

He thrusted his hips up and made you move your hand faster now as his moans become louder. You moaned along with him purely just because he sounded so good and he loves your moans. You leaned up and whispered more dirty nothings while he started to groan and squirm around.

“Don’t tell me you already wanna cum baby…” You tease softly, making him chuckle.

His eyes opened again and he locked eyes with you while you fluttered lashes innocently. “You’re killing me.” He groans and you shrug.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine.” You mutter and look down, attentively watching the way his cock was moving.

It looked so pretty and those delicious moans had you wishing you caught him doing this sooner. They sounded so needy and in a way, greedy.

You could tell he wanted more just by the way he couldn’t stay laying down but it was fine, only made it more fun for you.

“Stay still baby.” You utter, looking up to see him playfully rolling his eyes at you.

The tables have now changed considering the endless amount of times he’d tell you to stay still and couldn’t.

An idea then came to mind and you pulled your hand away before quickly taking off the little thong you were wearing which was unsurprisingly soaked.

You then grab the pair he had to his nose and pass him the thong before going down, starting to stroke him with your used panties.

“Bet you’ve done this too huh?” You purred to which he just moaned and feverishly nodded.

His thighs began to shake and he leaned his head against his shoulder which prompted you to lean up to gently kiss his cheek a few times. More dirty words left your mouth as you stroked him at a faster pace, this time wanting him to cum undone.

“Such a perv.”

“Just couldn’t help it huh?”

“Needed me so badly..”

This wasn’t the way Miguel imagined this would go at all but he absolutely was far from complaining. In his head this counted as the best case scenario to which he was grateful for.

So he couldn’t be blamed when your words, smell, kisses, and hand overwhelmed his body.

He groaned as his cum shot out and went straight down to cover your panties and hand. It was so cum some also made its way down to his thighs.

Your forehead was leaning against his as he tried to calm his breathing down and you were slowing down, letting him ride out his high.

You pressed your lips softly onto his and he kissed back just as softly. You let his cock go and lay your hand against his stomach. “Was that good?” You murmured, making him scoff.

“Shut up.” He muttered before kissing you more passionately, a hand coming up to cup your jaw gently while his breathing became more steady again.

You pulled away and looked into his eyes, “next time just let me know when you’ll be stealing a pair.” You tease as a laugh escapes his lips.

“Yeah, I might just have to.” He says with a small smile on his face before his eyes slowly start to flutter.

#miguel ohara #miguel ohara imagine #across the spiderverse #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o hara #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara oneshot #atsv miguel #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader

[multifandomgirl08]

To Constantly Be Away [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Wife!Reader (Established Relationship)

Summary: Second race of the season and Max is already having a tough time with the car. Missing his family only makes it worse.

Warning(s): Fluff

A/N: I stayed up late watching qualifying and the race in Singapore while working on this, and took out my stress watching that on Mini Verstappen verse Max.

Words: 1.7k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

It had been a bad weekend for Max, the car wasn’t running right with the new upgrades that had been added. They were starting P10 in the race. Y/N couldn’t fly to Jeddah with Nico because she was on call through the weekend. Everything was just going horribly wrong.

“Max!” He heard Christian call him over. “I know that you’re not in the best spirits right now, but I need to make sure that you’re okay.”

Christian did occasionally still check in with him before races, but given that Max hadn’t felt like this since before Daniel had left Red Bull. It felt nice that Christian could still pick up on those things after all this time.

“Call Y/N if you have to, find a way to talk to her or Nico.” Christian laid a hand on Max’s arm. “I know you’ll feel better for it once you have.”

Max tried to manage a smile but just gave him a stiff nod at the end.

Y/N had texted him when she got out of helping one of her co-workers with an issue one hour after he was already at the track for the race. She let him know that Nico had been sitting in front of the TV all afternoon waiting for the race to start before ordering an early dinner. In the photo that she sent, he could see her laptop open to her work email, Nico on his spot on the couch hugging one of the throw pillows. It had made some of Max's nerves go away but he still needed to talk to her at least for a few minutes.

He tapped his fingers against the screen of his phone, looking at the photo of her and Nico napping in his and Y/N’s bed. He let his phone unlock before pulling up his contacts and pressing on Y/N’s name. He stared at it for a few seconds before putting his phone up to his ear.

“Hello?” He heard her voice.

Max let his shoulders deflate, “Mijn leeuwin?” He stammered out.

“Hey Maxy,” She didn’t call him that often, only when she thought he really needed the comfort.

“Hi,” He weakly replied.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” He choked out, trying to brush off the sound of concern in her voice. He didn’t want to make Y/N upset or let her know how horrible he was feeling about being in the car. There was nothing that she could do to make the car better for him to drive.

He didn’t want to be at the track without his family. It felt wrong. He knew that Nico and Y/N were watching at home, and were supporting him even if they couldn’t be there but he selfishly wanted them here.

He heard Y/N sigh over the phone, “Do you want to talk to Nico? He’s coloring in front of the TV.”

“No, it’s not that bad.” He let slip out. He didn’t want to alarm her about how he was feeling. Brad would be coming into his driver's room soon before the race and he just needed a few moments to collect himself.

“Can you tell me about him? Tell me what he’s doing.” He asked.

“Sure,” He didn’t know if she was doing anything for work at the moment. But he knew that if she was, she was putting it aside for a few moments to calm him down. He could imagine her sitting on the couch with the caramel cashmere Hermés blanket thrown over her legs that had been gifted to them after they had moved. He could feel some of the pain of his headache slowly seep away as Y/N talked about Nico seeing Christian on the TV asking when was the next time that he could see Grandpa and Grandma GG. Max couldn’t help the smile that broke out when remembering that Nico couldn’t pronounce Geri’s name. It always ended up sounding like Gewy. The more she talked the more Max felt like he was in the right headspace to get inside the car. 50 laps, media, and then once he got on the plane he would be on his way home to his family.

They had talked until Brad had come into Max’s room to help him get ready for the race. Max had begrudgingly said goodbye.

“I love you.” He heard from Y/N.

“Love you, Papa!” He heard Nico yell. “Good luck.”

“I love you too, both of you.” He said cradling the phone in his hand. “Be home soon.”

Max pulled the phone away from his ear, giving Brad a small nod. Ready to go out there and give the race his all.

As the race went on it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. It wasn’t great, the major issues with the car seemed to go away after qualifying luckily. It was running closer to what he was used to. Even with those issues, he had somehow managed to finish P3. It felt like a miracle given how the weekend had been going.

He avoided the press as much as he could until he had to go for his post-race press conference and talk to the other journalists.

Everything felt so draining today. Normally he would talk to the team, and try to figure things out with GP about what went wrong earlier in the weekend but he just wanted to go home. He knew it was the thing that would set his head right.

Once his car got to the private airport, the next four hours passed by rather slowly. It was too quiet on the plane, Nico wasn’t bothering the stewardess on board about snacks, and Y/N wasn’t carding her fingers through his hair while she aimlessly checked her phone. He would normally end up taking a nap throughout the flight. She would wake him up slowly. He would start to grumble that she woke him up before her laugh would kick in. It was the best sound that he could hear after a long day on the track.

The drive from the airport was taking too long. Once he got to the house, he pulled into the garage. It took him almost no time to get his bag, lock his car, and make his way through the side door before walking into the living room.

Max quietly closed the door. Given how late it was Nico was probably asleep. Y/N would let him stay up to watch the race but once it was over, podium or not Y/N would have Nico get ready for bed.

He placed his keys in the bowl by the door, quietly walking through the house that was still covered in half-unpacked boxes. He went downstairs, walking by Nico's room to see the light turned off. Max opened the door, the hall light showing Nico's empty bed and missing pillow. That could only mean one thing...

He quietly walked towards the master bedroom, pushing open the door that was half closed. The moon casting a shadow over the bed, to see Y/N and Nico asleep under the covers, his side of the bed, open and waiting for him.

Nico normally wasn’t allowed to sleep in here with him and Y/N. Unless he had a nightmare, Nico would sleep in his own bed. She probably made an exception tonight because she didn’t know when his flight was going to get in.

He moved to the foot of the bed to take off his shoes.

"Max?" He heard as he slipped his shoes off. Then left them at the foot of the bed, making a mental note to put them away in the morning.

He turned his head to see Y/N barely awake, leaning against the pillows. Max shrugged off his jacket before walking over to her.

"Hi, mijn leeuwin." He was quick to kiss her forehead.

Over the last month since the wedding, Max had stopped questioning how Y/N fit into his life. The way that she could accept everything that was going on with his schedule and Nico. She took it all with so much grace. He never knew that someone could.

“Hey.” She muttered.

“I’ll change and then be in bed.” He watched her slightly nod until she laid her head back against the pillow. Nico turned over and moved to curl up next to her.

He was quick to remove his shirt and took off the skinny jeans that he was wearing, his socks getting stuck in the denim before throwing all of it into the laundry basket in the bathroom. His feet tapped against the cold tile, the transition of the wood doing nothing to warm his feet.

Max pulled back the sheets from his side of the bed being careful not to wake Nico. He took off his watch, put it on his nightstand, and then climbed under the black sheets of the bed. Max turned over towards his son and wife, pulling them in closer. All of the stress from the race seeping out of him, finally feeling like himself again.

Not Mad Max, not Super Max. Just Max.

Max closed his eyes, just letting himself lay there for a few moments. Taking in the quiet sound of the house, Nico sleeping next to him, Y/N within arms reach. He reached over, lightly stroking her cheek. He looked over meeting her eyes in the dark. He could see her lips form the question, "Are you okay?"

He nodded back brushing his thumb over her cheek again seeing her eyes flutter closed.

It blew Max away sometimes that this was his life. That by the age of 27 he had a wife and a child. The WDCs were nice and they were things that he was happy he had achieved, but this right here was what mattered to him most. The people that he got to come home to after stressful weekends and hard-fought victories. This was what was important to him.

Max settled further into his pillow ready to let sleep take him when he felt short hair brush over his arm. He opened one eye to see Nico had moved his head to rest against his shoulder. Max kissed the side of his son’s head, finally letting sleep take him.

taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie

#mini verstappen series #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #f1 imagine #mv1 imagine #mv33 imagine #formula 1 imagine #mv1 x reader #mv33 x reader #max verstappen x you

[tomriddleslove]

What’s left of me?

✩Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Summary: The one where your pursuit for excellence leads you down a path of self destruction, and you’re slowly loosing yourself. You didn’t expect a certain boy in your year would be your saving grace. Alternatively: Mattheo makes you realise you’re more than what you think you are.

A/N: I guess this could very easily be like a prequel to the other mattheo one shot ‘i’m here’. This is definitely a bit self indulgent but we all have our things 😻😻

Warnings: Allusions to overdosing (brief), mentions of not eating.

Songs: Nothings New - Rio Romeo

18 days.

18 days till you would be finished with all of this.

Technically, it would actually be 408 days till you finished school and graduated from this godforsaken place, but 18 more till you finished with exams.

You weren’t sure how many more hours you could spend hunched over indecipherable handwriting, pouring over text till your eyes stung and your back ached. Surrounded by a stack of books and rolls of parchment, you couldn’t even begin to figure out where you ended and the library began. You had taken up a huge table (that could seat at least 4) for the better part of 17 hours, sat on the same chair since 6:00 am.

You stifle a small groan of pain as you roll your wrist, stiff and sore from the hell that was ancient runes.

There are ink splotches all over your skin, and you’re sure the amount of work you were pouring into this stopped being effective nearly 5 hours ago.

Your eyes flicker up and scan over the once-packed library that had slowly dwindled down to a few students, half of whom were in the same boat as you.

To you, being the last person in the library was a huge sign of success. It meant you were more dedicated and more hard-working.

In reality, the truth couldn’t be any further from that, but in your mind, if you weren’t milking yourself over every last piece of work it simply wasn’t being done right.

The hushed murmurs and sounds of parchment being unfurled fade into the background as your quill scratches furiously against the parchment, mind running at a million miles an hour.

You ignore the pang in your stomach as you work; you haven’t eaten today. You didn’t want to get up at any point to get food, for fear of your place being taken.

Now, you didn’t want to get up for another reason. It was well past the library's open hours and Madame Pince was angrily fussing about, bustling around everyone as she got them to leave. A testament to how long you had been there, she didn’t even seem to notice you, and you were worried getting up and walking about would break this sort of invisibility shield you had going on.

Come to think of it, you hadn’t really drunk any water either. You brought your bottle with you but had forgotten to fill it up. It was fine though, the human body could last for 3 days without water - it could wait. Your upcoming exams were far more important.

In Scandinavia, the Elder Futhark remained in use until some time around the eighth century (the time of the Eddas), when drastic changes in the Old Norse language occurred, and corresponding changes in the runic alphabet were made to accommodate the new sounds. However, unlike the Anglo-Saxon Futhorc, the Younger Futhark (as it is now called) reduced the number of runes from 24 to 16, and several runes came to represent multiple sounds. The forms of the runes were also changed and simplified.

Gods, you couldn't take this anymore. You felt sick and exhausted. You ignore the hunger that gnaws at your stomach, rubbing a hand over your face as you contemplate finishing off and going to bed.

But every time you think of stopping a horrible feeling emerges in your stomach, consuming you with anxiety. The weight of impending exams and the fear of not doing well gnawing at your determination. You glance at the clock, realizing it's well past midnight, and the library is now completely empty except for you.

Madame Pince, finally noticing your presence, approaches with a disapproving look. "You know, the library does close at a certain hour. I can't have students staying here all night," she scolds, but her tone softens as she sees the exhaustion in your eyes.

“Sorry. I lost track of time” You mumble, haphazardly cramming your stuff into your bag. You get up, and the room spins for a second. You stumble but manage to catch yourself, holding onto the table as Madam Pince reaches out a hand to help you recover.

“You need to take care of yourself. No exam is worth this much stress,” She says, eyeing you with concern. If only she knew how far that was from the truth. You felt as though you had so little to your name. Performing well, overachieing. That was what you were known for. It was the only thing you felt was yours. Everyone else had character, they were distinctly themselves. They had hobbies, interests, and friendships that defined them. But for you, it was always about excelling academically. Without that, you became nobody. You were no more than the number on your papers, and the reminder weighed down on you like an unrelenting burden.

By some miracle you manage to stumble down the empty halls of the castle into the Slytherin common room, which seemed paradoxically warm considering its grandiose stone structure and dark, moody lighting. You carelessly drop your bag onto a table closest to the fireplace, trudging up to your room as you battle the sleep that threatens to consume you.

It's dark, and your roommates have long gone to bed.

“Lumos” You murmur, hiding the blinding light that emerges from the tip of your wand with the lining of your school robes, dimming it slightly. You grope blindly at your bedside drawer, stopping when you feel the familiar smooth glass bottle, that fits perfectly in your palm. You slip it into the pocket of your robes, slowly shutting the drawer as you make your way back down to the common room. You dismiss the light that shines from your wand, tossing it onto the sofa as you take a seat on the floor, in front of the low table. You read the instructions on the back of the small bottle as if you hadn’t been consuming this religiously for the past month.

Wideye potion User Guidance:

Take no more than one teaspoon every 6 hours. Effects will last for up to 8 hours. Excessive use of this potion may lead to adverse effects, and in rare cases, severe bodily harm. Users are advised not to use the maximum dosage for a consecutive 72 hours.

You’ve read it so many times, you were sure you could recite it by heart. Choosing not to heed any warnings, you pop open the cork and down the whole bottle in one go. The rancid taste of the potion burns, eliciting a shudder down your spine as you swallow down the bile that threatens to emerge. Pocketing the empty glass bottle, you stretch your arms before retrieving your books, ready to continue working.

If you were lucky, the potion might give you a boost of energy for about 3 hours or so. You had been taking it so much you had developed a sort of immunity to it, and the effects were not as potent as they used to be. The sacrifice of your well-being for the sake of productivity had become a routine, a desperate attempt to squeeze every ounce of time and focus out of your exhausted mind and body.

You have attempted to brew a stronger concoction, in the misplaced hopes that increasing the potency would counteract the effect of the immunity. However, the violent cramps and palpitations it had given you very quickly told you that wouldn't work.

You knew it was bad. It was causing irreversible damage to your body, killing you at worst. It simply wasn't sustainable. But you couldn't drag yourself out of that mindset.

Failure. Nobody.

You gritted your teeth and carried on working.

You managed to get through another potions essay, and the time on your watch read 1:00 am.

You could carry on for longer, right?

You zone out for a second, staring off at the orange embers that emerged from the fireplace, shining bright for what seemed like a millisecond before falling to the floor, turning into nothing but ash.

The orange embers flicker, and for a moment, you see yourself in them – a fleeting brightness that threatens to be extinguished. The battle between ambition and self-preservation rages on as you grit your teeth and carry on working, oblivious to the embers slowly falling into nothingness, much like your own fading sense of self.

“Why on earth are you up at this hour doing work?” A voice calls from behind you, and the momentary intrusion shocks you, sending a burst of energy through you as you spin around.

Flopping down onto the sofa next to you, leaning back with his legs lazily outstretched, was none other than Mattheo Riddle. Clad in a plain grey sweatshirt and black jeans, he eyes you with curiosity, smelling distinctively of smoke. He had most likely been out, as he so usually was at this hour. You shrug, turning back to your work.

“Exams. Need to revise” You mumble, voice cracking. You swallow, massaging your dry throat as you grimace, trying to get back to your writing.

“Revise? Merlin, you're the smartest person in our year. You don't need to be revising” Matthep leans forward, plucking a piece of parchment from your pile and examining it with a raised eyebrow.

You snatch it back, a protective instinct kicking in despite the fatigue. You hated that sentiment. Despised it, even. People always assumed your performance came naturally. That you were simply born with the ability to do well. No one seemed to consider what you had to do to get to that point, how you wore yourself down, day in and day out, till you either passed out from exhaustion or pain, neglecting your most basic needs.

"I might be the 'smartest' person, but that doesn't mean I can afford to slack off," you reply, a hint of frustration in your voice. The adrenaline from the sudden interruption starts to ebb away, leaving you feeling even more drained.

Mattheo leans back, momentarily caught off guard by your defensiveness. He had never seen you this on edge. He was so accustomed to seeing you as this familiar presence during the school day his partner for the many lessons that he didn’t have his friends in. The two of you would work together and on rare occasions, hang out with one another in the common room as well. It was a rather unlikely duo, the king of Slytherin and the academic prodigy. Yet, More often than not Mattheo found himself seeking out your presence. He never admitted it outright, but he hugely admired you. Your intelligence, your drive, it all captivated him. There were times when he hoped he could be only half the person you were.

How funny it was, for you felt the very same thing when you saw him. He seemed content. Happy. He was loved by nearly everyone. Popular, with a fun social life. He had everything you wanted without putting in any of the work.

You wanted to be like him. But you weren’t. And if you wanted anything like what he had, you had to work damn hard for it. So that's what you did. With a small sigh, you turn back to your work.

“Hey,” He says gently, his voice softening slightly. "I’m sorry. I say stupid things sometimes.” He apologies, brows furrowed as he looks at your back facing him.

“It's fine. I should be saying sorry. You didn't say anything, I just…. I’m just a bit tired, that's all.” You mumble, apologising as you get up. You stretch, a yawn escaping your lips as you wearily rub your eyes.

“I'm gonna run up to my room and grab some more parchment. I’ll be down in a second,” You say, shrugging off your school robe as you turn to walk away. You ascend the stairs leading to your dorm, tossing your robe onto the sofa next to Mattheo as you do so.

Your robe slides off the sofa and hits the floor, a faint clinking sound echoing through the empty room as you disappear.

Curious, Mattheo looks down at your carelessly discarded robe. He reaches down, picking it up. It weighs heavier than it should be, and Mattheo can't help but feel a twinge of curiosity, He eyes the now empty staircase before reaching into your pocket, fingers brushing against a smooth glass vial.

Not just one, but a few.

Frowning, he turns out your pocket, and four identical glass vials tumble into his lap. Picking one up, his frown only deepens as he reads the label.

“Wideye potion?” He mutters to himself, the confusion on his face morphing into something else as the pieces fit in place.

He had admired you for your intelligence and drive, and now he was confronted with the reality of your struggles. The contrast between your achievements and the seemingly carefree moments he sought with you becomes stark. He berates himself for not having noticed early, for having let you fall down such a destructive path.

Jaw clenched, he gazes at the piles of books you had been working through, rolling the empty vials between his fingers as the sound of your approaching footsteps snaps him out of his thoughts.

You pause in confusion, noticing the scrutinising depression plastered on his face as he looks up at you, rolls of parchment bundled in your hands.

"What's the Wideye potion for?" Mattheo questions, his voice cutting through the silence with an uncomfortable heaviness. He holds up the empty vials as evidence, his gaze piercing through the exhaustion in your eyes.

Caught off guard by the confrontation, you glance down at the vials and then meet Mattheo's eyes. A brief moment of silence hangs in the air, the crackling embers of the fireplace filling the empty silence.

“Research. For uh, potions.” You respond, internally berating yourself for coming up with such a weak excuse.

Mattheo's expression remains stern, a mix of frustration and genuine concern etched on his face.

"Don't bullshit me," he says, his tone direct and uncompromising. "I found these in your pocket, and 'potions research' is a shit excuse. I’m going to ask you again. What’s the wideye potion for?"

You shift uncomfortably, feeling small under his scrutinising gaze You clear your throat, speaking.

"It's just to stay awake, you know? To keep going. I only take it in extreme circumstances" you explain, your voice betraying the exhaustion that has settled in.

Mattheos jaw clenches, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he looks to the side with a sigh, visibly frustrated.

“Extreme? And what would that be, hmm? Because right now I'm looking at four empty bottles, and God knows how many more you’ve thrown away.” He snaps, his expression softening as he looks at you.

You feel a lump forming in your throat as you struggle to find the right words. Why on earth were you close to tears? Why did you feel like crying?

“I-” You start, trailing off as you stare at the floor.

Mattheo cuts through the silence, his tone still stern but laced with concern. "This isn't okay. You're smart, and you know better. You can't keep doing this to yourself. What if something happens? What if you collapse or get seriously sick? It's not worth it."

After a moment, Mattheo's expression softens, and he exhales deeply. "When was the last time you ate?" he asks, the concern evident in his voice.

Shit.

You pause, hesitating before admitting quietly, "Breakfast...yesterday."

Mattheo's features tighten at your admission, his eyes reflecting a mixture of frustration, anger, and genuine worry. He rises from his seat and strides towards you, his footsteps echoing in the otherwise silent room.

"Yesterday? Are you serious?" he says sharply, his voice carrying a weight of both concern and disbelief.

You remain silent, unable to meet his eyes, feeling the shame and vulnerability washing over you.

“Seriously? Fuck, what’s wrong with you? Why would you do that to yourself?” He chastises you, and you snap.

“I have to! You don't fucking get it, do you? I don't have anything else to fall back on.” You start, dropping the parchment onto the table in front of you.

Mattheo's expression shifts from concern to confusion as you lash out. "What are you talking about? You have plenty more than just academics. You're talented, you're smart, and people care about you. Why are you reducing yourself to just grades?"

You scoff, a bitter smile playing on your lips. "Talented? Smart? What does that even mean? It's just a facade, a cover-up for the fact that without these achievements, I'm nothing. I don't have friends; I don't have hobbies or interests. What am I without my grades?"

Mattheo tries to interject, "You're a person with-"

But you cut him off, "No, you don't get it! I'm just a number, a ranking, a test score. Everything I am is tied to how well I perform academically. Do you know what it's like to feel like the only thing you're good at is studying, and even that's slipping away?" You snap anger evident in your tone as you spin around to face him, your weary eyes meeting his.

“It’s the same thing every single day. I wake up, bury myself in books, and push myself to the brink just to feel like I matter. I don't eat, I don't sleep, I don't talk to anyone. I’ve spent my whole life isolating myself and neglecting my most basic needs for this! If I stop now, then what's left of me?”

Tears start to well up in your eyes, and you hate yourself for showing such vulnerability. Mattheo's stern demeanour softens as he watches you unravel.

"I can't stop, Mattheo. I can't afford to. Because if I do, what's left of me?" Your voice trembles.

Mattheo's heart drops at your words, guilt and hurt clawing at his insides. He can’t fathom the idea of you suffering so much, and him being blind to it. How could you not notice how incredible of a person you are beyond all of this? He’d give anything in the world for you to see yourself through his eyes. For you to feel the way he feels when he's with you, even for a second. To know that he’d do anything you asked him to because he cared for you. Not the one who gets outstanding on all their tests.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mattheo finally speaks, his voice softer, genuine concern written across his face.

You shake your head, a mix of frustration and desperation in your eyes. “Because you wouldn’t understand. No one does. They just see the grades, the perfect student. They don’t see the mess behind it all. And I can’t let them. I can’t let anyone see me like this.”

Mattheo moves closer, his expression shifting. “You’re wrong. I do understand. Maybe not completely, but I want to. You don’t have to face this alone.”

You scoff, wiping away a tear. “Why? What do you care? You have everything, popularity, friends, a life. I’m just the study partner, the smart one. I can’t burden you with this.”

Mattheo remains silent for a second, before he speaks.

“Every other Sunday, you go down to Hogsmesde and buy a hamper of sweets form Honeydukes. You take it to the children’s school and volunteer there for an hour. Everytime you visit, you make their day.” He starts.

"You're not just grades," he says, his voice gentle. "You have quirks that make you who you are. Like the way you absentmindedly tap your foot when you're deep in thought. Or how you always carry a small notebook, and I bet it's filled with more than just class notes. I've seen you doodle in the margins."

He continues, "You have a wicked sense of humor, even if you don't show it to everyone. I've heard you snort-laugh during our study sessions. And don't even get me started on your taste in music.How you call that dastardly jazz music, i’ll never understand, but you can’t resist humming along to the tunes of the Wizarding Wireless Network when you're studying. Your fondness for Chocolate Frogs and your inexplicable aversion to pumpkin juice.”

Mattheo's eyes light up, a small smile tugging at his lips as he recalls more details. "Remember that time in Charms class when you made your quill dance across the room just to see if you could do it? Or when you brewed a prank potion that turned the water in the Prefects' bathroom blue for a week? You have a mischievous side that not many people get to see." He continues, looking down at you sincerely. He remains silent for a second, eyes scanning over your face before he steps back, sighing.

“I don’t know how to do this emotional, sappy bullshit. I don’t do it. But with you, I do. I want to. Other people want to. That’s what you do.” He says, voice quiet.

You remain rooted to your spot, somewhere between disbelief and gratitude as you stare up at Mattheo. How did he know all that? Why did he know all that?

“You noticed?” You speak up, voice alarmingly quiet.

He looks at you as though you’ve just asked him whether the sky is blue.

“Of course i’ve noticed. It’s impossible not to.” He murmurs, and you know he’s being honest.

Tears prick in your eyes again, and it’s as though all that exhaustion and neglect has come crashing back down on you tenfold after Mattheo had called you out. You try blink them away but alas, you simply couldn’t. Before you can even say anything, Mattheo steps forward, pulling you into his chest as he wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. He holds you tightly, not even entertaining the thought of letting go as your tears soak his sweatshirt, tentatively accepting his embrace. His heart clenches at every tear that falls from your eyes, and he can’t tell if he’s horrified or accepting of the fact that he’d give up everything to relieve you of your burdens, even if only for a day.

He rubs your back soothingly, and you can’t help but let it all out.

It’s rather cathartic, really, because you've held onto this weight for so long, and now, in Mattheo's arms, it feels like a moment of release.

As your tears eventually subside, you pull back, both embarrassed and utterly shattered. You look down, sniffling as you wipe away your tear stained eyes when Mattheo hooks a finger under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

People often said that the eyes were a window to the soul. You never really understood that, but in this moment, you felt as though you were gazing into the very depths of Mattheos being.

With a tenderness that betrays the boundaries of ‘just friends’ , he wipes away your tears with his thumb, looking down at you.

“Come on. Let’s get you up to rest, yeah?” He hums, quietly. You nod, having to tear yourself away from his touch.

He leans down to pack away your stuff, not letting you handle a thing as he throws your stuff over his shoulder.

“You can stay in my room, if you’d like. Theodore’s out for the night so I can take his bed.” Mattheo says.

You consider it for a second. You didn’t particularly fancy heading up to your room with Mattheo, for fear of your roommate awakening to see you in such a state. You nod, speaking.

“Yes please.” You say, voice embarrassingly hoarse from having cried so much. You pray Mattheo didn’t notice.

Of course he did. But, he chose not to draw attention to it, instead resolving to run down to the kitchen to get you a cup of tea.

You follow Mattheo into his room, which you were no stranger to. Having projects together meant endless hours of collaborating, and opting to avoid being pestered by your roommate and her friends (who had a rather amusing infatuation with Mattheo), you worked in his room instead.

“Help yourself to some clothes if you’d like. They’re on the right.” He says, carefully draping your school bag and robe onto one of the desks. You thank him, smiling softly as he cleans the mess he had left.

“Go lie down. I’ll be back in a second” He says, turning away as he exits his room. Swiftly walking down to the kitchen, his head is reeling with thoughts of you.

He chose not to confront the feeling gnawing at him in light of your breakdown. He didn’t want to deal with that just yet. In no less than 10 minutes he’s carefully treading up the stairs to the dorms once more, a cup of chamomile tea in one hand and some small crackers in the other.

You hadn’t been eating, nor drinking, and the idea of you neglecting yourself so much sent Mattheo into an uncomfortable state where he found himself riddled with anxiety.

Just friends, right?

He clicks open the door to his room with his elbow, precariously walking over with the tea and crackers in hand as he goes to set them down on his bedside table. His eyes flicker over to you, and a small smile tugs at his lips as he sees you already fast asleep, curled up under the covers. The sight of your slumber brings a warmth to Mattheo's heart. He watches you for a moment, taking in the soft rise and fall of your breath, the delicate features that are usually tense with stress now softened in sleep.

The sight brings him more peace than he wishes to admit, and the looming reality that he had to eventually confront only pressed down on him further.

But for now, he didn’t care.

Because in your peace, he found happiness. And he’s sure he’d never find anything else more beautiful.

Possessed by a wave of sentiment that betrays his usual self, he can’t resist reaching out to tuck a stand of misplaced hair behind your ear. Before he can even comprehend what he’s doing, he leans down and presses a soft , brief kiss to your forehead.

He pulls back and finds himself slightly taken aback by his own actions. The quiet room, filled only with the soft sounds of your sleep, almost seems to amplify the beating of his heart.

Mattheo stands there for a moment, looking at you with a mix of tenderness and confusion. Then, shaking off the unexpected surge of emotions, he retreats to Theodores bed , slipping out of his clothes as he goes to lay down. He had to resist the urge to turn around and catch a glimpse of you once again, and lets out a small sigh as he shuts his eyes.

Mattheo Riddle was not a man of sentiment. He was not soft, and he most certainly did not go out of his way for others.

You had changed that. And he couldn’t figure out whether the prospect was one he was ready to welcome.

#slytherin #slytherin boys #harry potter #tom riddle #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys fic #theodore nott #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #mattheo riddle angst #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle x reader comfort

[astraystayyh]

Backburner

Han x reader. Han is a toxic ex who won't let you move on. Angst.

Inspired by Backburner- Niki. skz song series masterlist

It's been seven weeks since you and Han broke up.

Not that you're keeping count, but it's easy to remember when he calls you every Saturday night. Without fault.

He's the one who broke up with you, flimsy excuses and teary eyes as he left your apartment. Talks about how he wasn't enough for you, how he couldn't be present for you, how he couldn't love you the way you needed to be loved.

But you wanted his love, not the one he suddenly deemed you worthy of.

Maybe that's why you still picked up, even though it's reeling you back to seven weeks ago when he had just left you. Han's no longer here and yet, he's not letting you move on. He's the perfume that lingers in the elevator long after the person is gone; he's the feeling of floating on the waves that sticks with you long after you come home from the beach.

He's an expert at kneading nostalgia into your soul, at holding you hostage by the ropes of your shared memories. You are a puppet in his hands, dangling over the edge of oblivion, only to be pulled back each time you attempt to forget.

And he's calling again, at 2 am, like he always does. You don't have to glance at your phone to know it's Han- you never changed the special ringtone you set for him. And you pick up, like you always do.

I can't lie it feels nice that you're calling

"Hey, were you sleeping?" he asks after a few silent beats.

"No, I wasn't."

He clears his throat, and you imagine him lying on his bed, fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. If you close your eyes long enough, you can still smell his cologne and the fabric softener he uses. Or maybe he changed it. You aren't around anymore to know.

"I miss you." His voice sounds broken, coming out in a strangled whisper. As horrible as it sounds, you enjoyed knowing that he felt as miserable as you- that his soul still ached for you as you ached for him.

You sound sad and alone, and you are stalling

He coughs again, trying to fill the silence from your end, but you don't budge. You never know what to expect from these calls. Sometimes he'd talk about his day, as if nothing happened, as if he was still your boyfriend and he was calling you on the way home.

Sometimes you'd both stay silent, your breaths the only thing echoing through the phone call. You'd put it on speaker and pretend he was there, lying next to you. That you'd wake up in the morning and find him smiling at your sleeping figure, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek.

And sometimes, he'd tell you how much he loves you. Those phone calls hurt the most, because if he loved you, he would have stayed, right?

I don't care about what you want, as long as you keep talking

"Yn, I... I really miss you."

"Han..." you trail out, as hot tears well in your eyes. It was hard not to crumble when he spoke this way, his words tugging harshly at your heartstrings. It brings you back to all the times he was away, bound by work obligations. How he always told you he missed you, and within it, a silent promise that he'd come back. That he'd unravel the need within you, filling every dent and crack in your heart since he left. Unlike now, gone for good.

"It's the truth, I wait all week for this one call. It's the only thing keeping me going."

Talking to Han makes you experience different emotions, all at once. Relief- when you hear his voice for the first time in a week, and you realize you still haven't forgotten how your name sounds rolling off his tongue. Sadness- when you remember that this is now the remains of your relationship. The pain wraps around you slowly- like vines intertwining themselves with old buildings, deserted just like your heart.

And then anger- when he says things like this; as if he isn't the instigator of this pain, as if some force greater than the two of you forced you apart. It maddens you, how he stabs you and then he weeps over your bloody body.

"Then why did you break up with me, Han? If it's hurting you this much then why are we even apart?" you ask, anger barely contained.

"I told you, I'm never here. You don't deserve a boyfriend like this," his tone is exasperated, as if this is a simple truth and you are supposed to swallow it down your throat, along with the rest of your feelings.

"Then stop fucking calling me Han. You aren't here but you won't let me move on!"

"Because I don't want you to move on!" he yells, and you startle at the raw pain laced in his voice. "I'm scared if I don't call you anymore, you'll forget me," his voice cracks. "And... And we'll meet ten years from now in the aisle of a random supermarket, and you'd be in love with someone else while I'm still buying the shampoo you recommended to me."

"I'm tired Han," you choke out, phone now shaking in your hand.

You'd think I'd be a fast learner, but guess I won't ever mind- crisping up on your backburner.

"Me too, baby."

"Don't call me that," you beg, "please, don't call me that."

It's pathetic but at least you are too

"I want to see you," he says, tone pleading. And you can envision him perfectly, wounded eyes looking into yours, his lower lip quivering at the thought of you saying no.

"It's not love when you treat someone this way," you tell him, wiping your tears away. "To put someone in the corner and only think of them when you are fucking lonely."

"I think of you all the time," he cuts you off, "you never leave my mind, even when I'm away. Especially when I'm away."

After everything you put me through, I somehow still believe in you

"This is wrong," you whisper, as your resolve weakens, as your longing for him threatens to consume you whole. You no longer care that his hands are choking you as long as he soothes down the burn after.

"I know it is, but I love you. Say it back, please. I need to hear it."

I'll always be in your corner

"Please," he repeats, and he sounds so vulnerable, in his way of begging you. As if your words are the oxygen with which he breathes.

"I love you."

Cause I don't feel alive until I'm burning on your backburner

You are already at the door when you hear someone knocking on it. You don't have to look through the peephole to see who it is.

You open the door, and Han's there, phone still brought up to his ear.

"Let me in?"

He doesn't need to ask, you always will.

#stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x you #skz x you #han x reader #han x you #skz angst #stray kids angst #han angst #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #skz fanfic #skz fic #skz rec #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #han jisung x reader #skz song series

[nisuna]

This is a very old request I wrote, but it has probably been deleted, so I had to write it again. This is honestly just pure angst and manipulation. Quite horrible and heart-wrenching, so:

⚠️ Heavy Trigger Warning on this one -forced s*x and other mature themes- proceed at your own risk⚠️

Sukuna x protective!big sister!reader

TW: forced s*x, mating press, name calling, manipulation, big sister!reader protecting Yuji, mature

<3masterlist<3

-------------------Strictly 18+ MDNI------------------

"Let's make a binding vow."

"What?", you must've misheard. "Why in the hell should I?", you scoffed at the curse currently using your little brother's body.

"Chill out, sweetheart, that's not a good look on you. You should smile more.", he dared to grin at you.

"Just spit it out already."

"Alright, alright, geez. You always talk about wanting to help the brat. I'm giving you an opportunity of a lifetime."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Let me have some fun with you."

"What the hell? Definitely not. How would that even help my brother?!"

"Let me finish. Let me have my way with you and in exchange, I'll leave the brat alone whenever you're around."

You felt insane that you were even considering such a ridiculous offer, but you were getting desperate. This has been going on for way too long.

"Why do you even want that? And why should I trust you?"

"Because I'm dying of boredom sitting in that brat's head all day every day. And as I said, it's a binding vow, I'm just as fucked fucked as you will be if I dare break it.", he put his hands up in the air.

"Okay, let's say I trust you. What if he wakes up in the middle of it? You always watch everything that happens. I do not want him to see me like that."

"I will wipe his memory, no problem."

Shit, he always has an answer for everything.

"Just say the word and we can start, doll.", he pressed on when he saw you chewing on your bottom lip, deep in thought.

"Fuck off", you really didn't want to do this, but it was for your brother. If there was a way for you to linder his pain, no matter how humiliating, you were willing to do it. So you swallowed your pride and started to lift your shirt over your head. "Don't just stand there, let's get this over with."

"Atta girl.", he grinned and rid himself of your brother's clothes. You felt sick to your stomach.

--------

He's been pounding away at you for what felt like forever and you cursed yourself that it was starting to feel good. He had your legs swung over his broad shoulders and you were folded in half in a tight mating press. You were trying to keep it down, but all of your pent-up feelings were begging to be released.

"Best pussy I've had in centuries, curses don't compare to real humans. Goddamn if you keep squeezing me like that I will bust in no time."

"Oho, the mighty King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna-sama brought to his knees by a mortal pussy how laughable, ah-" your meager attempt at mocking him only earned you a harsh slap to your thigh.

"Shut it or I'll wake the brat up."

"You said you wouldn't! You can't!!", you tried to resist only to have your knees pressed tighter to your chest.

"I said I would wipe his memory after, if anything happened. I can wake him up right now and let him experience the whole thing if you don't shut up. Just look pretty and take it like the whore you are."

Once again, you swallowed your pride and gave him a nod. You're doing this for him. It's going to be worth it in the end. He's suffered far worse than you.

"Good girl."

-----

With the last ounce of mercy he actually had left in his body, he made you cum as well before filling you up.

As soon as he was done he got up and was decent enough to get Yuji dressed while you were trying your best to neaten up your dishevelled self. It was revolting feeling the sticky substance trickle down your legs as you pulled up your pants.

"You definitely made it worth my while. Alright, see you never, sweetheart.", he snarled the nickname before finally leaving your brother's body.

What you weren't prepared for was having to catch Yuji before he fell down face first on the floor.

"Fucking asshole", you mumbled while wiping your nose and trying to gently wake your brother up. You ever subconsciously holding your breath until you saw his eyelids flutter open. He looked so confused, but he wasn't in any pain as he looked up at your soft smile. His calm state didn't last long as soon as he saw your dishevelled hair and crooked clothes.

"Oh my god he was out wasn't he goddamn it! Are you okay?? What did he do to you? I swear I'm going to kill him, I'm going to fucking kill him if he hurt you-"

"Shh, it's alright he didn't do anything. We.. we just talked. Nee-chan talked to him and he will leave you alone from now on whenever I'm around. Isn't this great? We can always be together now. Nee-chan will never leave you alone ever again. It's going to be alright, everything will be alright now, Yuji! So please don't ask any more questions, I handled everything. Don't you worry your pretty little head, I got this.", you smiled and pulled his stiff body in a tight embrace, strategically hiding your face.

"Okay, I trust you, Nee-chan. You would never lie to me, right?", he finally relaxed in your hold and hugged you back just as tightly.

"Right. Never.", you felt your heart sink in your chest as you choked up the words and your eyes stung with tears that were threatening to spill. So you just hugged him tighter and prayed he wouldn't notice anything else.

You are a good older sister and you love your younger brother Yuji more than anything. And that is exactly why you will be taking this secret to the grave.

-----

I apologise 🥲

#jjk smut #jjk headcanons #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #takes with nini♡ #jjk angst #jjk scenarios #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jujutsu kaisen angst #nini's takes♡ #jjk fanfic #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

[sunkendreams]

I'm not really that familiar with 'The lost boys'

But, at the moment i just can help but think about any of them just absolutely going feral for reader in their period;

Just- top tier pussy eating and indulging while helping reader ease the pain.

This can either go really dark or really *really* soft :))

once bitten, twice shy.

( paul x fem!reader x marko. )

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. | paul x fem!reader x marko (paul-centric fic with a healthy side of marko)

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓. | one-shot — requested.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. | 5.2K.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. | SMUT! (mdni), vampire antics, blood drinking, bloodplay (they’re vampires), period sex, cunnilingus, oral sex (f!receiving), biting, hair-pulling, dirty talk, scratching, paul loves your tits, marko is kinda selfish, making out, kissing while they’re bloody (hot), threesome, ambiguous ending, panty-stealing

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. | so ,,, I would absolutely love to write a part 2 to this with them blowing the reader’s back out, so if that’s something y’all wanna see, please comment and/or send a request! I love writing for the lost boys so much ,,, most inspired I’ve been in a long time! I’m gonna start answering requests, too! I’m so excited to be back in the thick of things. Love you guys so much, thanks for your support!

TAGLIST: @dootys ; @reveluving ; @sat10 ; @milland ; @iamcautiouslyoptimistic ; @darklylucid ; @sirstompely ; @chaotichellscape ; @callsigncrash ; @manicpixiimurderdoll ; @sandeepics ; @rainbowcreepie ; @kiki-dohedo

They were descending upon you like a pack of slavering wolves — like sharks in the water, drawn to the scent of your blood. Whenever your menstrual cycle came around, it was as if you were wearing a dinner bell around your neck. Dwayne knew better than to interfere when you were in pain, and David simply told you that it would be over soon, without any real compassion.

Paul, however, had no real concept of boundaries, nor did he really have a desire to adhere to them. As soon as he caught wind of your blood, he was always a little closer — never too far away. If Paul happened to be nearby, it was a possibility that Marko was right behind him.

As you lay in your makeshift nest, nestled atop the rickety mattress, you were partially tangled within well-worn sheets, wishing for your torment to end. An excruciating ache spread throughout your lower belly, sending dull shockwaves of pain towards your limbs. Your head vibrated with an unpleasant humming.

Your alcove was shrouded in thick curtains which served as a door — even then, there wasn’t a purpose for it. Privacy was threadbare around the cavern, especially when it came to you. With a low groan, you rolled over, attempting to find a comfortable position, but everything felt horrible.

It was as if your body was imploding, ripping itself to pieces while still barely functioning. Sometimes, you wished that you could turn — if you were a vampire, menstruation would cease, becoming a thing of the past. You were half-tempted to beg David for a sip of the crimson bottle, but you knew he would decline.

With a shaky exhale, you sluggishly rolled out of your bed, gritting your teeth together as another wave of pain radiated through your lower back. A hot bath and plenty of sleep would do you good, but living with the boys had completely altered your circadian rhythm. There was no use in trying to return to normalcy.

Draped in one of your blankets, you wandered toward the drawn curtains, gasping when your foot nudged into something sitting atop the rocky, uneven floor. It was a small pile of chocolate, accompanied by a partially-destroyed box of tampons. You weren’t sure who left it there, but you had a hunch.

You stooped down, gathering the many offerings as you retreated into your chambers, mood improving by a sliver as you went about eating some of the chocolate. They were Milky Way and Secret bars, something you might’ve grabbed at the convenience store once upon a time. You assumed that one of the boys stole it.

As you sat along the edge of your bed, your mouth flooded with a rush of gooey nougat, sweet as can be and somewhat of a relief. It wasn’t enough to quell your constant aches and cramping, but the gesture was thoughtful. You placed the rest in a box underneath your bed, discarding the wrapper into a bin.

Your mattress was the most inviting thing you’d seen all day, coaxing you back into its plush warmth. Swaddling yourself within one of your blankets, you intended on sleeping — attempting to sleep the day away, if you could. Best to do it now before you were rudely interrupted come nighttime.

It was best to rest whenever the boys did, knowing that they’d become rowdy once the sun descended. They had a rather common practice of waking you up whenever they got up, and this time wouldn’t be any different.

“You’re on the rag,” Paul’s voice sliced through your slumber like a hot knife cutting into butter. “I can smell you from miles away — bet anybody could.” Your eyes fluttered, groggy from sleep as you adjusted to the low, flickering candlelight of your nest. It didn’t surprise you to see your boyfriend perched at the foot of your bed, smirking like a maniac, the bastard.

As much as you adored Paul, he was the last person you wanted to see. The unfortunate part about cohabiting with vampires was their nosiness, their desire to feed, their backward circadian rhythm — your boyfriend was the worst of all. With a soft groan, you twisted away, drawing the blanket over you.

Another sharp jolt of pain cut through your stomach, the sensation equating to that of a gut punch or shallow stab wound. You didn’t want Paul to see you like this, all disheveled and haggard, a mess of gore and exhaustion. “What time is it?” You mumbled, briefly rubbing at the bridge of your nose.

“I don’t know,” He shrugged, slithering forward until he was right next to you, close as could be. “Poor baby,” Paul crooned, peppering kisses against your face. “You’re just dying over here, aren’t you?” Admittedly, he wanted to eat you out — he hadn’t asked before, but being in such close proximity without having fed in awhile, he was ravenous.

His lips felt so cool against your feverish flesh, like ice against fire. You shamelessly careened into those brief pecks and fleeting sensations, lips parting as you let the blanket slip a little bit. “Feels like it.” You sighed, hand reaching toward his chest. His skin was always icy, perfect to quell the searing feeling that coursed all over your aching form.

Paul’s motives were mostly self-satisfying, an attempt to extinguish the ragged burning that blistered through his throat. Of course, he wanted to help you — take some of your pain away, but above all, he wanted to feed. He’d drink from your cunt like a fountain if he needed to, but it was all about execution. He wanted you to agree to it.

Marko would want in on this, Paul contemplated.

Sharing with his brother was an act of generosity, but Marko had some claim over you, too. Paul loved you, you loved him — Marko loved you, too. He felt obligated to alert his fellow blonde to your suffering — he was just as hungry. Though, Paul was delighted to find that he could have his fill first, no waiting in line.

“You feel so nice,” It wasn’t intended to be flirtatious — but for Paul, he’d take any scrap that he could get. In an attempt to feel his cold skin against your cheek, he playfully groped at your chest, causing your brows to furrow in mild annoyance. “Paul, not right now.” You sighed.

“Not right now?” He parroted, tone jocular and mischievous as he pressed another kiss against your cheek. You really were warm. Paul watched with a twinge of empathy as you winced, contorting and writhing around atop the mattress. You were in pain — he hated seeing you like this, wrought with an agony that he couldn’t rip away from you.

A bout of silence passed between the both of you, and you looked to Paul, whose mind was racing with lascivious thoughts. Saliva pooled within his mouth, a desperate hunger intermingling with his desire to no longer see you suffering. You curled up against him, hands pressed flat atop the mesh shirt he wore.

You’d grown accustomed to his smell — a pungent aroma, like carrion in the sun attempting to disguise itself as a bottle of stale cologne. At first, it was extremely off-putting, especially when you were having sex, but now, it was simply apart of his very being. You had been surrounded by vampires long enough to understand their distinct and disgusting scent.

“Baby, you gotta let me help you,” Paul murmured, cerulean hues taking on a predatory sheen. He was partially just a boy wanting to fuck his girlfriend, and the other half was a greedy creature who simply wanted your blood. “Got an idea to make you feel better, yeah? Make your pain stop for a little while.”

His icy hand traced over your cheek, thumb sweeping across your lower lip as he continued to shower you in feather-light kisses. It was akin to cold raindrops peppering your flesh. Paul’s hand then drifted underneath your shirt, an item that coincidentally once belonged to him, now repurposed.

That chilled temperature was a nice feeling — as much as you desired heat, the cavern could become oppressively stuffy and overbearing. When the California summers died down, the interior became a little cooler, more mellow. For now, you endured the heat. “Paul, I don’t think sex is going to help me.”

Paul guffawed, grinning wolfishly as he planted a kiss against your lips. It was open-mouthed and needy, which happened to make your cunt throb with a distant ache. You hated Paul sometimes — he made you so aroused and pent-up that you wanted to scream.

His facade of ‘dumb blonde’ charm initially worked on you — a carefully-crafted disguise that gave way to his underlying intelligence. Paul was wicked smart, but he enjoyed keeping up a charade for the fun of it. Easier to hunt that way, he’d told you, once upon a time. He was so charismatic, like a magnet — drew you right in.

“Don’t knock it ‘till you try it, sweet thing.” Paul snickered, crawling a little lower as he pressed kisses against your stomach, which made you so unbelievably flustered. “Let me help you out, baby. M’hungry,” He murmured into your skin, idly rucking your shirt up towards your chest. “Wanna taste you so bad.”

Realization washed over you then and there.

He was hungry.

The fresh menses that coalesced between your thighs must’ve been calling his name, and you stiffened as another tendril of blood wept from your core. It was always an uncomfortable sensation, but Paul could smell it — he had the nose of a keen hunter. You swallowed the lump within your throat, feeling more embarrassed than anything else.

“Paul, I — Are you sure?” If it weren’t for his state of vampirism, you would’ve been mildly disgusted, but this was Paul, after all. He was messy, nasty, and rowdy. He didn’t care whatsoever, and it was one of the reasons why you adored him. He was unapologetically unhinged — his constant state of being.

His cajoling laughter caused you to shiver, knowing what his answer would be before he said anything. It was stupid to believe that a vampire wouldn’t want to have free access to blood, no matter how unorthodox it might’ve been. “I’m very sure, baby. You just lay back, let me handle the rest. M’gonna make you feel better.”

If it weren’t for the context of the situation, he sounded like a doting, devoted boyfriend. You couldn’t help but let out a brief huff of laughter, but then again, if Paul intended to relieve some of your period pains in the process, you weren’t about to stop him.

With a nod, you rolled over, lying flat against the mattress as Paul swiftly shrugged off his tuxedo overcoat, letting it drape against the foot of the bed. His eyes glittered with excitement, and once he was perched at your feet, you got embarrassed. He’d eaten you out before on so many occasions, but this made you unbelievably flustered.

Insecurities got the better of you as you pressed your knees together, hand covering your face. “I can’t, Paul. You’re going to think I’m repulsive.” You groaned, feeling his strong, muscled hand gently clasp around your wrist, dragging it away so that you could see him.

“Baby,” Paul hummed with an urgency, his mane of coarse, dusty-blonde hair looking exceptionally wild when he hovered above you. “You really think that I’m gonna find you gross ‘cause of that?” He inquired, watching your pretty little face scrunch up. “I think it’s hot.”

You scoffed, finding some amusement in that. “You think me being on my period is hot?” It shouldn’t have surprised you — this was Paul, after all. “You’re insatiable. I’m just a free meal for you right now.” You sighed, and even if that was true, you would always be more than that to Paul.

Ever the patient predator, Paul perched his chin against the top of your knee, pressing a sweet kiss against your softer flesh. “Nah, baby! You’re more than that,” He protested, hands rubbing along your thighs. “You’re my sweet little mate.” He watched you shiver, and his lips twitched into a smirk.

Unfortunately, Paul knew how to get you hooked — whenever he referred to you as his mate, you became very smitten very quickly. “I know,” You mumbled, listening to his impish laughter as he showered your legs in greedy kisses. “I know I am.” You shuffled your legs apart just a little bit, and Paul was barging right into that newfound space without warning.

Paul grinned — a glittering, vibrant expression that made your stomach do excitable flips. “Yeah you are,” He purred, pushing your shirt up until it pooled around your stomach. That familiar scent of blood invaded his senses, activating that burning hunger. His throat blistered with a dry, festering agony. “Fuck, you’re all mine.” His voice became a touch darker.

You shuddered, skin crawling with an excitable heat as you squirmed atop the mattress. Paul’s ring-adorned digits curled into the waistband of your shorts, yanking them down and off of your legs. With only one thin veil to protect you from Paul and his appetite, you felt his arms hook around you, prying your panties away.

His attention turned to the menstrual pad, gaze sparkling with intrigue as he smelled the freeh blood on it and on you. “Might save that for later, as a dessert.” He let out a bark of laughter, gingerly discarding your panties off to the side, treating them with care. “You smell divine — bet you taste just as good.” Paul groaned.

With a brief inhale, he caught a full gust of your saccharine scent, interwoven that the twang of copper and your menses. He licked his lips, flattening himself against the mattress until he was on his belly. Paul rocked forward, and without hesitation, began to greedily lap at your cunt.

It was as if being touched by an open flame, nerves set ablaze by Paul’s eager, greedy licks. The broad flat of his tongue swept across the length of your slit, drinking in each tendril of blood. A lion drawn to that of a lamb, the predator finally catching its prey. You whimpered, aching something awful as he worked to soothe it.

Your hands lazily clamored toward the crown of his head, digits sinking into his product-stiff mane of hair. It felt coarse underneath your fingertips, but you didn’t care, clutching onto him with a fervor. “Paul, ri—Right there,” You sighed, hips jolting forward. “S’good.”

His oral fixation was rather renowned, and his prowess at giving you mindblowing head was really beginning to show. Paul’s tongue languidly split toward your weeping core, imbibing your menses as your blood began to extinguish that festering pain within his throat.

A molten-hot wave of heat rolled over you, dropping right into the pit of your stomach as he flicked his tongue across your clit. That singular gesture made your cunt clench pathetically around nothing at all, thighs beginning to squeeze at his face. Paul snickered, forcefully parting your legs with a mere shove of his rough palm.

He wished that you were always like this — he wouldn’t have a reason to hunt anymore. That was the lazy way out, and Paul loved the chase, but being able to simply feast on you without harming you was quite the payoff. He cleaned you up, tongue prodding at your entrance with a fervor.

Fortunately, Paul caught you on a heavy flow, and his greed was beginning to shine through. His restraint was thinly-veiled and shattering at the very foundation, hands tugging you forward as he lapped at the trickling rivulets of crimson. A groan escaped him as he devoured your cunt like a man starved, and in all actuality, he was.

“I hope you plan on sharing.” Marko’s voice was extremely unexpected, snapping you out of your lust-induced haze, eyes going as wide as saucers. Your relationship with Marko was a complicated one — Paul was your boyfriend, but you liked Marko, too.

Suddenly, you felt embarrassed — ashamed, even. You almost wanted to kick Paul away and wallow in your own frustration. You wanted to squeeze your legs together, but he wasn’t having it, keeping you spread open with one hand. “Paul, wa— Wait,” You protested, voice meek and soft as he lapped at your cunt. “Paul.”

Paul was laughing, tearing himself away from his meal with his chin and mouth turned scarlet, stained with your menses and ichor. He licked his lips, peering toward you with a mischievous expression. “Marko wants in on this,” He mused, caressing your thigh in an attempt to quell your sudden bout of nervousness. “You mind, baby? You can say no.” He assured you.

It all felt like some fever dream, and you were staring at Paul with an incredulous look. They were always prone to sharing, but this seemed like a step further than you intended. “You … You don’t care?” Admittedly, you wanted Marko — burned for him. He was certainly greedier than Paul, twice as insatiable.

“Nah,” Paul chuckled, seemingly nonchalant about this entire ordeal. He was busy licking your taste off of his mouth with all of the excitable gusto of a dog. “You’re still my mate, but I can share a little bit. ‘Sides, Marko’s been looking at you for weeks. He’s jealous that he doesn’t have a hot girlfriend like you, baby.” He sneered, grinning like a wolf as he kissed your leg.

Marko’s countenance became somewhat dour, but he elected to ignore Paul, who was entirely amused. The curly-headed blonde sauntered forward, inching closer toward your bed until he was at your side. He reminded you of a cherub — a cherub cleverly disguised as a devil with a forked tail.

Paul smirked, slithering back to his perch between your thighs, busying himself with eating you out as Marko decided to finally have his moment with you. Besides, you were his thrall — the girl of his eternal dreams, flesh and blood, all belonging to him. He happily lapped at your cunt again, lips occasionally teasing your clit.

You shuddered, shrinking underneath the oppressive force of Marko’s stare, which glistened with an unrestrained desire. He slipped forward, settling beside you on the bed — it was the closest you’d ever been to him. Your heart pounded within your chest, hammering away just underneath your collarbone.

He uttered something in Italian, something that you couldn’t decipher as he hovered above you, fingertips gently trailing across your cheek. You didn’t expect this sort of behavior from him, considering that he had quite the temper and violent streak, but you weren’t about to complain.

Without missing a beat, you slid your hands toward his waist, wanting to touch him. He noted your hesitation, grasping ahold of your wrists as he guided your hands underneath his cropped shirt. “Marko.” You cooed, voice tapering off into a moan. Goosebumps coalesced along the length of your spine — it was hard to focus when Paul was tongue-deep inside of your cunt.

“You’re beautiful,” Marko hummed, dark, green-flecked hues roving over your writhing physique. Your scent was overpowering, awash with that coppery twang of blood, perspiration, and natural musk. He dipped forward, mouth brushing against yours. “Delicate.” His lips split into a gregarious smirk as he nipped at your jaw.

You shivered, beginning to squirm around as Paul lapped at your oozing slit, mouth rapacious as he lapped at stray tendrils of your cruor. He planted a kiss against your thigh, leaving behind the imprint of bloodied lips, fingers clamping down on your hips as he urged you back onto his tongue.

A myriad of whimpers and moans escaped you, swallowed whole by Marko, whose kiss was completely consuming. He was the smallest of the pack, but easily the most voracious alongside Paul. Your palms slid everywhere they could, flat atop Marko’s abdomen as you kissed him.

He felt like smooth marble underneath your fingertips, cold to the touch. Your breath caught within your throat as he gripped at your neck, holding either side as he continued to kiss you. A soft moan escaped you, barely audible between the barrage of kisses exchanged, soon devolving into tongue and teeth.

Paul licked his lips, tasting your body upon his tongue. “Wanna have a taste, Marko?” He snickered, tossing his sandy tresses back with a shake of his head. It was like some unruly, disheveled halo that surrounded him, stiff and layered in product he hadn’t washed out in years.

Marko’s eyes glittered with lust, intermingled with a rapturous hunger. He kissed you hard before recoiling, swiftly switching places with Paul, who was more than happy to come curling up next to you. Marko wanted nothing more than to feed — whether you came or not. It was entirely self-gratifying.

“She smells good enough to eat,” Marko sneered, playfully biting at your inner thigh. He was rougher, somewhat reckless compared to Paul, oddly enough. Paul knew you inside and out — and he wanted to try and be careful with you, if that were possible. “Don’t you, ragazza?” It must’ve been something in Italian.

Your boyfriend let out a bark of laughter. “What are you tryin’ to say? It doesn’t sound as good as you think.” He teased, and Marko gave him a spiteful look. Paul grinned, bloodied mouth on display, like something from a splatter film as he let you recline against his chest. “You gonna pull your shirt up?” He asked you, matter-of-factly.

You blinked, wincing when Marko’s sharp teeth suddenly nicked your supple flesh, drawing out a thin rivulet of blood across your thigh. “You can take it off.” You mumbled, gasping as Paul’s roughened digits pawed and clawed at your shirt, wrangling it up enough until he pushed it over your head.

Paul’s crimson-coated mouth was on your tits before you could fully form a sentence, letting out a soft moan. You immediately gripped at his hair, thighs trembling as Marko dove right in. His tongue split you open, greedily lapping at your fresh wave of menses, hungry as could be. He was far more intense and animated than Paul, which both excited and terrified you.

With a sigh of delight, your hips twitched and jolted forward, held down tight by Marko, who was greedily drinking his fill from you. His tongue swiped against your sensitive cunt in a rather vigorous pattern, hands clasped around your hips. Paul not-so-gently sucked on your nipple, teeth nibbling around the tender bud as he groped at your chest.

Pleasure rippled throughout your body, like tidal waves of ecstasy. That sharp ache that once blistered within the pit of your stomach had been quelled for now, and you couldn’t have been any happier. Your hands roamed through Paul’s tresses, giving them tugs whenever Marko hit a certain spot.

“Fuck, baby — you got the prettiest tits,” Paul groaned, busying himself with kissing and groping your breasts, dexterous hands caressing wherever he could. “Marko being good to you?” He asked, lips twitching into a rather bemused grin. His brother had a tendency to tease — Paul wanted to make sure that you got your release.

Marko smirked; he was devious, mind working to concoct some plan to torment you. He was gleefully tonguing at your cunt as he fed from your menses, chin steeped in gore. He was the picture of mischief, gaze gleaming with an animalistic fervor.

The curly-headed leech hadn’t bothered to touch your clit very much either, but you nodded nonetheless. You wouldn’t be able to find anyone else who gave as good of head as Paul did. There was nothing like him.

“Nothing like him?” Marko’s sardonic lull pulled you from the heat of the moment, goosebumps rising along the length of your spine. Another unfortunate downside of living with vampires — their mind-reading. You gulped, listening to Paul’s heckling howls of laughter as you peered toward Marko.

“D’aw, don’t get jealous, Marko! She knows who she belongs to.” Paul grinned, pressing a sloppy kiss against your jaw, leaving behind trace amounts of blood, which he happily licked away. “That’s why she’s my mate.” His teeth glinted in the low light, eyes blazing with a lustful fire as he squeezed your chin.

Unconvinced, Marko’s lips curled slightly, mouth hotly returning to your still-weeping cunt. You were so close, teetering on the edge of your climax as you moaned, hips jolting forward. It had become a competition, but unfortunately, Paul was still miles ahead.

At last, those angelic lips of his pursed around your clit, stimulating that sensitive clutch of nerves. Marko was undeniably greedy, adding a slight graze of his teeth as he lapped at your menses. The burn in his throat had diminished, but only by a sliver — he’d go feed on some unsuspecting tourist later.

Your body spasmed, trembling with an explosive bliss as your thighs threatened to smother Marko. Thankfully, the vampire was quick, pinning you apart as he lapped at your clit, swiftly interchanging his ministrations. It was enough to send you careening over the edge.

Paul seemed appeased by this, having to adjust his jeans to relieve some of the friction. Your breath came in excitable huffs, moans tapering off into the cave, reverberating throughout the alcove. Marko didn’t stop, still lapping at your cunt with an eagerness in an attempt to feed just a little more.

Marko growled, drinking in your menses, intermingled with that of your cum as cleaned you up. Paul seemed mildly disappointed that it wasn’t him down there, but there would be plenty of chances.

“Gonna make her explode,” Paul chided, reaching over to shove Marko’s head away from between your legs. Marko’s expression was one of displeasure, but he’d gotten what he wanted, licking at his lips; as satisfied as a cat who’d just caught the canary. “Think she feels better.” He affirmed, pressing kisses all over your face.

You did.

The relief would be temporary, but you were beyond grateful, panting and quivering as you came down from your climax. Perspiration danced along the length of your spine, manifesting as a cold dew. Paul was attentive, hand rubbing into the small of your back as he hopped off of the bed, retrieving a new shirt for you.

It happened to be his, a shredded, dirty Metallica shirt that he’d worn on a handful of occasions. You were still recovering from it all, watching as Marko stood up from between your legs, licking his lips as if he’d eaten something delectable.

“Thank you, Marko.” You mumbled, noticing the blonde’s devilish smirk as he tossed you the box of tampons. “This was you?” That was a surprise — you assumed that it was Paul’s doing. He was much more into giving you gifts like that.

Marko shrugged, but Paul was cackling, grinning at his brother with a sense of understanding. “He’s got a crush on you.” He guffawed, watching as you got dressed — if a shirt and panties counted as such. “I don’t blame him.” Paul purred, giving you another affectionate kiss against your cheek as he slapped your backside.

You noticed that your previous pair of panties were mysteriously missing — but you didn’t say anything, utilizing the tampons gifted to you before clearing your throat. “Can we go to yours, Paul?” You asked softly, wanting to go to his nest, instead. It was much more lived-in and vibrant than yours.

“Sure thing,” He hummed, head cocking to one side. “Don’t you wanna say goodnight to Marko?” Paul mused, planting his hands against your shoulders. You seemed a little flustered but nodded nonetheless, feeling his lips meld against yours in a reassuring kiss. “I’ll be waiting for you.” His teeth nipped at your jaw before he disappeared through the thick curtains.

Tension hung heavy in the air, thick like an inescapable haze as you stared at Marko. You didn’t know what to say, but he beat you to it.

“Will you let me take you out sometime?” He asked, head cocked to one side. Paul must’ve known about this already — otherwise, there would’ve been some sort of rift or protest. Marko’s chin was still stained in your blood, which made your stomach do excitable flips.

“Yeah,” You nodded, stepping forward to wipe off his chin with your discarded shirt. “Thanks for … That.” Heat crawled across your flesh as Marko grabbed your wrists, dragging you in for an invasive kiss. His tongue greedily meshed with yours, enough to make your head spin, feeling dizzy with desire.

The kiss made your heart race — it was different from Paul’s kisses. Marko was always dancing along that fine line of danger, but Paul was, oddly enough, a little more docile. Both were just as satisfying as the other. Either way, you were whimpering, hapless as you moved your mouth against his.

Marko withdrew, angelic countenance reminding you of a fiendish imp instead of a cherub. He swept his hand across your jaw. “Don’t mention it,” He seemed more subdued than he’d been before. “You know who to ask if you need help.” His chuckle was mesmerizing.

You pushed your fingers through his mop of golden curls, chewing at your lower lip. You gave Marko another sweet kiss before the both of you left, Marko going one way, and you wandering toward Paul’s nest.

When you slipped past the mangled web of tapestries and curtains, Paul was laying on his bed, legs kicked up against the rocky wall as he smirked at you. “He asked you?” He inquired, propping himself up on one arm. You were surprised, but admittedly, you shouldn’t have been.

“Yeah,” You murmured, shuffling forward until you sat down next to Paul. The blonde immediately grabbed you, hauling you on top of him as he snuggled his face into your clothed breasts, which made you giggle. “Paul, you know that I’m yours, right? I don’t want us to stop.” You gushed, worried that he’d leave you because of this.

“I know,” Paul mused, grinning up at you with that wonderfully stupid expression of his. “You can be his side meal,” He snorted at his own ridiculous joke, palms caressing and massaging into your hips. It was a nice feeling. “S’long as you’re still my mate.”

“Of course.” You nodded, grabbing his face with your hands, leaning in to give him a sweet kiss. Paul exhaled, sitting up fully to hold you, letting you straddle his lap as he began to kiss you back. It was a rather foul concoction of your blood and his own saliva. “ … Did you steal my panties, by the way?” You mumbled.

Paul snickered, playfully quirking an eyebrow as he jerked his chin toward the entrance of his nest.

“You’ll have to ask Marko.”

#slasher x reader #slasher x you #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys x you #paul tlb x you #paul tlb x reader #marko tlb x reader #marko tlb x you #the lost boys fanfiction #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys #slasher fanfiction #slasher fanfic #slasher fandom #slasher x y/n #sunkendreams masterlist

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

The Roommate Series Drabble

You’ve been abnormally stressed recently.

It seemed everyday you had a headache or a stomachache, or something was wrong with your body. After work you’d come home exhausted, unable to function much because of how fried your brain was on stress. You thought that maybe it had been just a bought of bad luck or something, but you could hardly get anything done around the apartment anymore.

Hell you could barely find the patience to eat.

You thought it would go away soon, that you would go back to normal, especially before Simon came home, but you were wrong.

Simon came home and he noticed something was up almost immediately. The slightly dirty apartment, including the pile of dirty clothes that was quite large in the corner of your bedroom, was a bit of an oddity but the way you greeted him tipped him off.

By all accounts, it had been normal. You gave him a smile and pressed a tender, longing kiss to his lips as the weeks apart finally came to an end.

But your smile didn’t reach your eyes and the circles under your eyes were a little concerning. Also the slight exhaustion in your tone made his eyebrows pull together.

“Okay, love?” Simon asked as he gave you a soft squeeze on your hip.

“Yeah, just a little tired.” You tried to give him a reassuring smile. “I’ll make you ‘Welcome Back’ Dinner.”

“You can have a sit instead.”

You gave him a look that made you turn into your normal self for a moment, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips before he conceded.

However, Simon did what he does best and observed you while you cook. He watched the way your movements were sluggish and the way your shoulders were tense. He noticed how multiple times you forgot the ingredients or how you completely blanked on certain things while you cooked.

Your replies were short with him, not irritated or angry, just small compared to how you normally talk.

He wanted to say something but waited for you to acknowledge it first. Unfortunately to his disappointment you didn’t.

The next day it seemed like everything came crashing down. You had a horrible day, waking up late and battling nausea from stress, work had been a nightmare and you had a horrible kink in your neck that hurt every time you turned your head. Every muscles in your body ached but mainly your upper back hurt like hell.

It soured your mood and you tried not to let it. Simon was home! You wanted to be in a better mood for him after not seeing him for a while, but you walked through the apartment door you broke down.

The entire apartment was clean. Rationally you knew it was because Simon needed something to keep him busy so he decided to clean, and make dinner for you, but your tired irrational self felt so awful.

You were such an awful girlfriend making your boyfriend who risked his life, who did hard labor and kept you safe, clean up your mess and make you dinner. You were so pathetic because you could barely handle such normal stress.

Simon didn’t say anything to you as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly while you cried almost hysterically. You felt awful for him even comforting you but he was content rocking you back and forth in his arms while he asked you what’s wrong.

You let it all out. The stress, the aches and pains, the lack of eating (which made him even more worried), the guilt you felt for him having to pick up your slack, the pathetic way you felt. All of it.

“I like taking care of you, remember?” He told you softly as you hiccuped. “Never had an issue with it before.”

“But Simon-“

He stopped you by placing a kiss on your temple, on the scar that was there and you sniffled.

“I’d do it everyday if I could.”

He always said that in response when you’d start this conversation once again. He was a patient man and he didn’t care to remind you that he’d take care of you no matter what, sick or healthy, stressed or unstressed. It made him happy to see you taken care of, so it was only right that he provided that for you.

Simon pulled away from you and held your face in his hands. He looked concerned as he wiped a few tears away from your puffy eyes before he made sure you were looking at him.

“Eat, take a shower and let me take care of you.” A little bit of Ghost slipped out, his natural cadence to give orders making you chuckle, which made him smile.

You did as he told you and before long you found yourself wrapped in your favorite blanket with a cup of tea in front of you.

Simon’s hands worked at the kink in your neck and worked out any of the tension you felt across your body while he jokingly complained about having to watch your favorite show (that he also liked).

Before long you were dozing off in his arms while he tried his hardest to wash away your stress. You both knew it would take a little more and a little longer for you to feel back to normal but Simon didn’t care.

He quickly pushed away your doubts and guilt. You do so much already for him, this is just the bare minimum. It’s not like he’s helpless and though he’s a little sore from work, being with you is more than enough to make up for it.

He just wants to see happy just as much as you want him happy.

“Feel better?” Simon wondered as you were on the brink of sleep laying on his chest.

“Mhm.” You snuggled in closer to him and sank into him when he wrapped his arms around you. “Thank you.”

“Any time.”

A/n: I need him to give me a massage and pamper me just for one night please

#the roommate series #simon ghost riley #call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you