#A month and a half passes and he starts PANICKING | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

httpdwaekki · 2 months

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skinship | s.c

summary: you thought changbin hated you, but that all changed one day when you showed on his doorstep, moments away from an anxiety attack.

wc: 1.8k

warnings: descriptions of an anxiety attack

a/n: happy binnie month! i'm so happy to be doing this not only for one of my favorite boy but with one of my favorite people @straykeedz ! please don't forget to check out bee and her half of binnie month! i hope you enjoy! remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3

(p.s. if u get the reference ily <3)

my library | bee's vers. | binnie month

please consider donating to this fundraiser!

(pictures are not mine! credit to owners!)

you didn’t think changbin hated you per say, however you did notice his hesitancy towards you, so that definitely didn’t make you think he liked you either.

you noticed he’d keep his distance when you would hang out with the boys and forget about skinship, he avoided you like the plague. you were a very touchy person, similar to felix, you tended to cling to your friends. so you’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt your feelings even a little bit, especially because of how he clings to your other friends.

you brushed it off though, you know not everyone was going to like you but it stung a bit coming from changbin. truth be told you had a lil crush on him when you first met him but you had given up a while ago.

this changes one day however, you found yourself outside of the 3racha+hyune dorm, seconds away from an anxiety attack. you don’t remember how you made it to the building but you knock regardless hoping anyone but changbin would open the door.

luck was not on your side as the rapper opens the door, coming face to face with your panicked expression. “h-hi-“ quickly wiping your tears, attempting to plaster a small smile on your face. “sorry- is chan home?” you were fiddling with the hem of your shirt, attempting to calm yourself long enough to get to your best friend.

“no he’s at the studio- are you okay?” he asks, concern lacing his voice. “yeah! sorry to bother you, i’ll just go to the studio, sorry again!” you say quickly, turning around to make a quick exit.

“hey wait, are you okay?” he steps out, grabbing your wrist, stopping you.

you pause, attempting to collect yourself, “yeah, i just need to find chan.” you go to leave again, his grip tightens slightly. “please let me go.” you whisper, a lump forming in your throat, as you focus on the concrete below your shoes.

“y/n, what’s wrong?” he starts panicking, never had he seen you so distraught. you were usually a ray of sunshine, kind-hearted and smiley, but this- this sent a shock to his core and he knows he can’t let you leave.

he moves in front of you, going to grab your other arm when your head whips up as his hand makes contact with your skin. your eyes are wide and full of panic, unshed tears line them as the panic took over your body.

your reaction has him dropping your wrists immediately. “i’m sorry- i’m sorry, i just want to help.” his voice soft, as if he were speaking to a scared animal.

“can i help you? please, i don’t want you driving like this, it’s not safe.” he explains gently, holding out his hand, trying not to let his panic show. “no- it’s okay, i’m sorry to bother you.” you plaster a fake smile on your face as you stumble backwards, changbin catching you before you could fall. he wraps his arms around your middle before pulling your back to him.

“i’m sorry, i’m just gonna go.” you attempt to free yourself from his arms, feeling the anxiety building in your chest, weighing down on you with each passing second.

“y/n.” his voice stern as he tightens his hold, keeping you in your place. you freeze, locking eyes with the floor, refusing to look at him.

“please,” he begs softly, “let me help you.”

your facade breaks. your knees weaken as sobs wreck your body, changbin tightens his grip, pulling you closer to him. once you regain your footing, he circles around you pulling you into him once more.

you become inconsolable as your arms wrap tightly around him, shoving your face into his neck. “i’m sorry-” he cuts you off with a gentle shush. “don’t apologize. you’re okay.” he rubs soothing strokes on your back as you calm down.

once your breathing was semi-normal he pulls away, almost missing the pain that flashes in your eyes. almost. “come on, let’s get you inside.” he grabs your hand, carefully pulling you into the home.

he leads you to the couch, “sit.” you didn’t know what came over you but as he pulled away your gripped on his hand, stopping him in his tracks.

your eyes wide, gasping softly, “i’m sorry!” quickly releasing his hand. “oh my god, i’m so sorry, i don’t know why i did that.” you suddenly realize the reality of the situation, it washes over you like a wave of cold water. you get up and make your way to the door. “i-i’m so sorry changbin-” you feel your chest tighten, the grips of your anxiety tighten with each passing second.

all you could focus on was getting out of here as quick as possible. but changbin wasn’t letting that happen.

he panics and all he can think about is calming you down, so he did the one thing he can think of. he grabs your wrist once again, turning you to him placing his lips on yours. you freeze before melting into him, placing your hand on his hip, him placing his free hand to your cheek.

once he felt you relax he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. both of you taking a moment to catch your breath.

“why did you do that?” you whispered, still not moving. “uh, i read somewhere that if you hold your breath, you could stop a panic attack.” he pauses, taking a breath. “so when i kissed you, you held your breath.” you nod, pulling away slightly, still processing the fact that he just kissed you.

“oh, that’s really smart.” he nods with a shy smile. you quickly realize you’re still holding on to him, pulling away quickly, “oh!” you backed away slightly. “sorry-” you clear your throat, “thank you,” you make a circle motion between the two of you, “for that.” you smile shyly.

“uh yeah, anytime.” your cheeks warm as a light pink brushes his. you both stand there for a bit before you speak. “can i ask you something?” you ask suddenly, causing him to look to you.

“yeah anything.” he says, prompting you to continue. you hesitate, “do i make you uncomfortable?” you ask quietly, fiddling with your shirt once more. you glance towards him, catching the confusion on his face.

“no not at all,” he furrows his brows, “why would you think that?” he wants to move towards you but he hesitates.

“i’ve just noticed, you just always seem,” you pause, trying to find the right words, “i guess, closed off? like you’re really open with everyone else but with me you always seem to avoid me a bit.” you can see him processing the information but the lack of response was making you panic a bit.

“well! i guess not avoid but like kinda closed off? which would make sense because you’ve known everyone a lot longer than me but you just always hug everyone and then kinda just avoid me, which is fine! totally okay! i just-” he cuts you off with a kiss.

while your rambling was super cute, he couldn’t watch the panic again. his hands on your cheeks once more, he waits for you to relax into him before he pulls away.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers out of breath, “you’re just so cute when you ramble.” you let out a breath as you smile. you place your hands on his wrists, keeping his hands on your skin, basking in the closeness of each other.

a few moments of silence pass before he moves to kiss your forehead, bringing you into him. he wraps his arms around you before he speaks, “you don’t make me uncomfortable, and i certainly wasn’t avoiding you on purpose.” he pauses as you wrap your arms around him.

“i’m so sorry i made you feel that way, i just didn’t know how to approach you.” you tighten your arms around him as he speaks. “i now see i had nothing to worry about huh?” you giggle, shaking your head before pulling away.

“i don’t know if you could tell but i like you, i have for a while but i thought i made you uncomfortable so i kept my distance.” you say looking into his eyes, his coming up to rest on your soft cheek once more.

“not at all, i’m sorry i made you feel this way.” he says, eyes sorrowful. you give him a shy smile, “it’s okay, i’m glad i know why now.” you place a quick peck to his lips, as if it was a seal of confirmation.

he gives you one in return but that quickly became many more… all over your face. you squeal as he continues his attacks, “bin! okay okay, mercy mercy!” he giggles stopping his targeted attacks before quickly picking you up, pulling a noise of surprise from you.

you quickly wrap your arms around him, “where are you taking me?” you giggle as he walks through the dorm, taking you along for the ride. “i’m taking my girlfriend to my room to cuddle because she was having a rough day.” he states proudly, planting a big kiss to your kiss as he enters his room.

“your girlfriend huh? not even gonna ask me?” you tease as he lays you on his bed. “i figured the two passionate kisses and the other kiss attack was enough to solidify that.” he shrugs, looking down at you.

you take a moment to ‘think’. “yeah that’s pretty fair.” you nod, giving him a cheeky smile. he gives you a big kiss before deciding to lay on top of you. “oof!” you giggle as he settles his weight on you.

you look down to find his boba eyes staring back at you, big grin plastered on his face. “move up more, what are you doing all the way down there?” you give him a teasing smile, as he realizes what you meant.

“yah! you’re not allowed to tease me any more.” he whines as he moves up, closer to you. “oh no?” you wrap your arms around him and he lays down once more. “says who?” he nuzzles his head into your neck before relaxing. “says me.” you can’t see his face but you know he’s pouting regardless.

“okay, i’m sorry bub.” you giggle placing a kiss to his hair. what you don’t see is the light blush that dusts his soft cheeks at the pet name. another moment of silence passes, “i’m glad you answered the door.” you say softly.

he lifts his head to look at you, small smile on his face. “me too.” he places one more kiss to your lips before melting back into you where you both fell asleep, smile gracing both of your lips.

this doesn’t last long before hyunjin and han both wake you up with their surprised screams when they find you two.

#seo changbin #changbin #changbin x reader #changbin fic #changbin oneshot #changbin fluff #changbin imagine #changbin drabble #stray kids #stray kids drabble #stray kids oneshot #stray kids fic #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagine #stray kids one shot #ash's archive ‧₊˚✩彡

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luveline · 3 months

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begging on my hands and knees (if you haven’t already) for you to write something about Aaron during the birth of your child 🥲🥲 and jack’s reaction to meeting his new sibling

You suffer through labour, Aaron dotes, and Jack meets his baby sister. fem, 2k

cw for labour/delivery, no graphic imagery

For some people, giving birth is a fast affair. Dilation occurs quickly, and after twenty or so pushes, a baby is born. Some people can go into labour and be finished within the hour.

You, unfortunately, have not had that kind of luck. And that’s okay —it’s also entirely normal for this process to be difficult. Doesn’t make it hurt any less to watch, but Aaron has thick skin. Who cares what he’s feeling? You’re about to have a baby.

He stands at the head of the bed with his arm over your pillow, tired despite himself, a styrofoam cup of ice chips in his hand. He presses it to your cheek, and every couple of minutes he changes it to the other one. Your forehead is wet with sweat, your face puffy with sobbing tears, but you’re beautiful in your sleep. Beautiful to him.

He leans down to press a kiss to your forehead where he stays for some time. Your heart monitor beeps.

A few minutes later, your heart monitor jumps. A strike of pain to warn of an oncoming contraction.

You drag yourself from sleep to find his eyes. “Hi,” you whisper.

He doesn’t know what to say. What can sum it up? Aaron doesn’t think he’s felt this many emotions in his life; he thinks of Jack, his baby face, and he thinks of Haley squishing his pink cheeks; he thinks of your hands, how chapped your palms are, how much he hates to see you crying like this; he thinks of your little baby so close to being here, and all your months of triumph and love and good luck to get to this moment.

This is the biggest privilege of his life, in line with Jack’s birth.

He doesn’t feel like he deserves it, but he makes himself a man who could deserve you. “Hello,” he says, pressing the back of his hand to your raging forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“It has to be time soon.”

“You think so? Should I find someone?”

He speaks in solid but hushed tones, as though a raised voice might hurt you more. You find his chest to press your hand to space above his heart, where you give him a little rub back and forth. “No,” you say, tears welling in your eyes as the monitor spikes, “not yet.”

He helps you into a sitting position which quickly becomes a bent over and keening position. Aaron obviously doesn’t know how childbirth feels, but he has experienced his own scar tissue ripping apart inside his abdomen as his organs flooded with his own blood. By the looks of it, you’re hurting worse than that. You don’t even speak. Your moans turn to panicked shouting before you get so scared your voice disappears.

He doesn’t like it at all. He waits a good long minute with you for the pain to pass, his hand in yours as you squeeze it to mulch, his nose pressed remorsefully to your cheek. It fades like all the others.

“I know,” he says as you start to cry in earnest, “it’s over. It’s over.”

“It’s not over,” you snip, sniffing.

He leans over your lap to press the button that asks for help. “You’re doing amazing.”

It’s a hard night. At nearing one in the morning, they measure your dilation and agree it’s time to push. You tolerate it well, but it still takes two and a half hours of agony and tears. Aaron doesn’t cry, but he does feel an acute ache for you, and an excitement you probably can’t feel yourself. Every push is one step closer to the baby.

Just after three hours, when the midwives are whispering to one another in concern and Aaron is sure he’ll never feel his left hand again, you have a baby.

She’s snipped, cleaned up, and laid gently on your chest within seconds. You’ll never know how whole and brimming Aaron’s heart feels in that moment, to see you crying against the little forehead of your baby, to watch your arms cradle her body tenderly.

He’s sure everyone in the room will forgive him for crying too. Just a couple of tears, smiling as you look down at her in pure joy. No shock, no sign of all that pain.

“Oh, fuck, Aaron,” you say suddenly, to the delight of everyone in the room, “she’s got your frown.”

She’s screaming, as babies tend to do. Aaron presses himself as close as he can to confirm the wrinkle between her brows.

“I’m sorry,” he says, kissing your cheek.

You breathe out deeply. “It’s okay. I forgive you.”

Sorry for the pain and gunk. You forgive him for everything.

You’re feeling nearly yourself again when morning comes, Aaron can tell. Showered, changed, swaddled with post-labour padding and with half a sandwich in your stomach, he can nearly forget the sound of your panicked crying. You’re hoarse as though you’ve been out for the night with friends, whispering clumsy love notes to your daughter where she naps in your lap.

“So pretty,” you say, running an awed fingertip over her nose, “so beautiful, baby. You’re so beautiful. Look at your liccle nose.” You dip into sugar. “Aw, look at your nose.”

“That’s your nose,” he says.

“I think so.”

She’s a baby so it’s hard to say for sure, but Aaron hopes she has your lovely nose and that she looks exactly like you, if she only keeps his wrinkled brow.

You lean back. The bed has been wiped down and changed, your pillow from home propped behind your shoulders. Jack’s good luck talisman sits on the night table, waiting for him to visit. Aaron has been away for weeks, sometimes months at a time, and still he misses him after not seeing him these last eighteen hours.

“He’s on his way, right?” you ask, noticing Aaron’s quiet.

Aaron picks up Mr. Bear where he sits on the nightstand and massages the teddy’s arms and stomach. “Can’t you hear him?”

“My sister!” Jack is saying, words too fast to pick up each one, “Jess, we have to be faster!”

“I’m going as fast as I can, sweetheart!”

Aaron meets him at the door. Jack sees his father, probably just the shape of him, and starts to run down the hallway. He slams into Aaron’s legs, who pulls him up against his chest for a two-armed hug that he couldn’t need more.

“Jackers,” he says in relief.

“Dad, put me down!” He must see you over Aaron’s shoulder. “Y/N! You’re okay!”

“I’m more than okay, handsome! Were you worried about me?”

“Is that my baby?” he says, rubbing his eyes with both hands.

You, Aaron and Jess all laugh. “Your baby sister. Are you gonna come and say hello? She’s been waiting for hours for you to wake up,” you say.

“I was waiting for her for hours first,” Jack says, climbing over Aaron’s shoulder, and then slipping back down as his father walks him into the hospital room to stop by your bed.

Jess stays by the door.

Aaron puts Jack on the bed beside you where there’s not much room for him, hands clasped around his arms just in case he does something sudden. “Oh,” Jack says, breathing out slowly. “Wow, dad.”

“Wow,” Aaron echoes.

“Can I touch her?”

Assured he’ll be careful, Aaron lets Jack loose, and the boy waits for your signal before he pokes at the baby’s fisted hand.

“She’s really little, huh?” you ask quietly.

“Was I this little?”

“You were smaller,” Aaron whispers.

“She’s a real baby, dad.”

“She’s super real. Does she look like you pictured?” Aaron asks.

“No, I thought she’d look more like me.”

This is really funny to you. Careful, you hold the baby to your chest and free an arm to cup Jack’s shoulder. “Buddy, I missed you. Aunt Jess says you stayed up past your bedtime, how are you feeling?”

He smiles and goes shy at the same time. “I’m okay. I missed you, too.”

“That’s good, I’m feeling good too.” You sniffle.

“Are you sure?” Jack asks.

“This is the best day ever. My little girl meeting her big brother.” You take a steadying breath, and you turn the baby toward Jack gently. “Do you wanna hold her?”

Jack sits against your pillows and waits with pale terror on his face for you to pass him the baby. He bends over her as soon as she’s been placed, worried she’ll tip out of his lap, and you stroke the short brown strands of his hair, crops of it moving shiny under your touch.

Aaron takes his phone from his pocket. In his rush, he struggles to find the capture button, recording a video instead that will take up most of the memory on his old phone and that he will refuse to part with.

“Did she look like this in your belly?” Jack asks you, frowning.

“Not the whole time. Why, does that bother you?”

“Was she squished?”

“No, she wasn’t squished. ‘Member how big my belly was?” You laugh warmly. “How big it still is.”

“Will it ever be small again?”

“Maybe somebody. I don’t mind.” You stroke his hair again. Baby makes a wet noise. “What do you think, lovely?”

“About your belly?”

“About the baby.”

“I wish I was her.”

You stroke behind his ear. “How come?”

“I’m so tired, I wish I was sleeping too. But she is really small.”

Aaron catches your relieved smile before he puts down the phone. “Do you want a nap, buddy? We can take a nap.”

“I can take him home?” Jess suggests quietly.

Aaron thanks her for everything. When you’re feeling better, he’s sure you’ll want to introduce Jess to the baby as well, but Jess doesn’t want to impose, and Aaron lets her go without fuss. Perhaps it’s a little hard on her to see. He doesn’t know.

But Jess is a good woman, and he knows she’ll want to meet your baby whenever you’re ready. For now, it’s just you, Aaron, Jack, and the baby Hotchner.

Aaron sits in the plastic wrapped chair by the bed and leans back to accommodate sleepy Jack, who falls asleep with little more than a back rub and his family’s proximity. You look like you could sleep, too, but you won’t put the baby in the bassinet. You hold her and watch her for a soothing stretch of time, Aaron watching you both.

“He’ll be more enthusiastic after he’s slept,” Aaron promises.

You pucker and press teeny kisses to the baby’s ear. “He was perfect,” you murmur. “He was so gentle. We’re so lucky.”

Aaron reaches over to hold your hand. You indulge him with an open palm, the two of you shushing in tandem as your children rouse, both of them perfect, and both parents very lucky.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #criminal minds

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certifiedcodbabygirl · 9 months

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Baby's first fever

Simon Riley x Reader w/ daughter (Lizzy)

(Photo credit to @ave661, go check her renders out, they're really good)

Parenthood is a terrifying experience, especially as first time parent. Even with preparation, all the books, and a loving husband. Lizzy had been sniffly the night before, but not too terribly. Nothing of concern though.

So imagine your surprise when you go to check on your 6 month old in the morning and you feel her head is hot.

"Ohh no no no baby" You say, panicked as you gently pick her up. Her little whimpers practically break your heart as you take her to your shared with Simon. You push the door open and see that Simon is already getting dressed, pulling his shirt off.

"Si she's sick, like really sick" You say, trying to not cry, anxiety rising. Fevers as an adult or even as a teenager are easier to fight off but as a baby? It truly is cause for concern.

He holds his arms out to hold Lizzy and puts the back of his hand to her forehead, frowning at the warmness. He gently swipes his thumb on her cheek and kisses her forehead.

"You not feelin good, sweetheart?" He asks her, "come on, let's get ya some medicine, hm?"

He leans over and kisses you on the forehead, "C'mon mama"

He walks to the bathroom, with you short behind, and opens the medicine. He hands Lizzy off to you, and opens the medicine cabinet.

"Glad we got this, huh?" He smiles slightly, opening the bottle of kid's ibuprofen. He Snaps one of the little tablets in half shows the little piece to Lizzy, smiling at her.

"Open up, love" he says softly, "Gonna make ya feel better"

He gently parts her lips and puts the small tablet on her tongue. She immediately starts to suck on the tablet, nose slightly scrunching from the weird tastes. He runs his fingers through her soft curls, kissing her head. He notices you trying to keep calm, your lip twitching slightly and obviously keeping back tears.

"She'll be okay, just a lil sick, ya?", He tucks your hair behind your ear and kisses you, "C'mon, lets give her a bath"

He sits you down on the toilet while he runs an slightly cooler bath so that she doesn't go into shock. While he runs the bath, you look down at Lizzy. Her face is a little red and her nose is runny. Your eyes well up in tears. Logically you know she'll be okay, but she's so little.

You never thought a baby with Simon would/ could happen, yet here she was. Brown curls, big brown eyes just like her dad's, a shining reflection of the man you love. Nothing prepared you for the overwhelming love you felt when you first held her. The click of motherhood that you instantly had when her skin touched yours causing you to cry. Your sweet girl.

You snap out your thoughts as you hear Simon call for you.

"Hm?" you say half mindedly, looking up at him.

"Bath's ready"

You hum in acknowledgement, standing up and setting her down on the counter, undressing her. You check the water temperature, and gently set her in the baby bath basket you got for her. She splashes a little, feeling cold in the room temperature water due to her fever. She whimper and fusses and you sniffle again.

"I know baby, I know", you coo at her, "You'll be okay, my love. Just gotta get you clean, yeah?"

The bath goes smoothly (with a few tears let's be honest). You pass her off to Simon as you go off to get her crib sheets and blankets changed out and pick out her outfit. Simon walks in with her in her little towel and a fresh diaper. You help change her into her clothes and go to the kitchen to make her a half bottle of warm formula.

You grab the bottle and head towards the nursery but notice he's laying on the couch with Lizzy on his chest. Standing in the doorway, you can see how tired they both are, Lizzy sick and Simon, well, REASONS 👀. You go back to the kitchen and put the bottle into the fridge for later. You gently tiptoe into the living room so you don't wake them up, and cuddle up to Simon's arms.

You check Lizzy's breathing and forehead temperature before allowing yourself to relax into him. His arm pulls you into him as he kisses your forehead.

"She's gonna be okay, baby. L'ts get some rest"

#call of duty modern warfare #ghost cod #cod x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader daughter #Simon Riley x reader pregnant #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley #mw2 ghost #dad simon riley #COD x reader

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jjbalice · 21 days

Text

Martyr's Folly

Summary: Yunho helps and comforts the reader after they've accidentally cut too deep.

Genre: a hurt/comfort Yunho x reader oneshot

Word count: 4.81k (15-20 mins)

Trigger warnings: semi-descriptive self-harm (blood, cuts, use of blades - nothing too crazy, though, don't worry!), panicking, crying, mentions of relapsing, lots of pet names, nicknames, and physical affection lol, Yunho is a blessing

A/N: This fic is pretty personal since I've been struggling with not feeling valid enough because of the way I SH, which isn't the stereotypical kind you see in movies and such. In a way, it's an attempt at scaring myself from buying any actual blades mixed in with the comfort I crave whenever I slip up, I guess.

Baby cuts. Cat scratches. Damage dealt within the epidermis and the higher half of the dermis. Whatever you want to call it.

For a few weeks now, that's exactly what has been slowly but steadily appearing on your feet and lower calves. Or re-appearing, rather. A bad habit from the past coming back to haunt you all over again for no apparent reason.

No but seriously, what reason for doing this is there? You're happy, you have a stable part-time job on the side of your studies that are also going great, and an incredible boyfriend with whom you've just celebrated a 6-month anniversary. No real issues in your life as far as you can see.

Sure, sometimes you get caught up in a fight with your friends or parents, or even with Yunho, or maybe some of your insecurities hit extra strong on some days. But all of that is normal, right? Just some passing obstacles that get resolved in a few days tops.

So why are you here, at 3 am, staring at the husk of a person in the mirror? Why is your head so empty yet incomprehensibly full at the same time? Why are your hands all fidgety, getting ready to strike any moment?

Truth be told, you have no clue.

This was supposed to be a lovely weekend for you. You got off work early on Friday, securing enough time to pack your stuff at your dorm before heading to Yunho's apartment for a sleepover. He's been trying to convince you to move in with him after your anniversary, saying how it would be both cheaper and closer to your university. Both of those arguments are true, and yet you remain stubborn, wanting to keep your independence for just a bit longer.

Alas, Yunho has no choice but to respect your decision and settle for weekend sleepovers in the meantime.

And even those are great! The two of you get to talk for hours and play games, cook dinner together or order in and watch TV... Mainly, though, you get to cuddle and snuggle to your hearts' content (and maybe even do a bit more than that, if the opportunity and want arises).

That's also one of the main reasons for your hesitance over this whole... relapse thing.

Because of Yunho and his affectionate nature towards you, hiding the traces of your renewed habits became much more difficult. You couldn't cut where you used to before, all of those areas feeling way too exposed now.

And so, you settled on the bottom of your legs. Anything a pair of longer socks could easily hide without too much questioning from your boyfriend. Let's just say your feet are cold all the time now, even though summer's just barely starting to end.

Is it satisfying to harm there? No, not at all. The area is too small and angular, and the pain-to-mark ratio is nowhere near optimal. Everything feels too bony and stings more than other places, and all you get from it are the faintest of scratches.

But anything to at least partially quell the urge, right?

Well, not exactly.

If the razor blade hidden within the confines of your duffel bag was any proof, your methods weren't exactly effective.

You've never used an actual razor blade before, never even planned on trying it since you knew about the dangers of using it and how everything could get out of hand within seconds. Sure, the scissors and other sharp objects you've used until now weren't exactly perfect either, but they didn't put you at as much of a risk of going to the ER.

...So why did you buy the blade then?

Well, it was pretty cheap, first of all. You could just buy it, think about using it, and then throw it out without feeling too guilty about it, right? Not to mention how it helped you feel more valid about harming, even if you haven't used it yet. Self-harm is always depicted as razor blades on wrists, so even just owning one somehow helped you feel a bit more valid amidst the disappointing scratches on your leg.

It's been a week since you've bought said blade (or 5 blades rather, as they came in a pack - what a steal!). During that week, not much has happened to it. Right after you paid and got your receipt, you tossed the paper into a nearby trash can and stashed the pack of blades into your wallet. And there they were even later tonight, as you quietly crept to your bag to retrieve them, careful not to wake Yunho up.

But let's rewind back a bit. Back to where today's misfortune started.

Just like with everything else lately, you don't know why the urge to indulge washed over you specifically tonight. You and Yunho have spent such a fun evening together, lounging around and enjoying each other in whatever way felt right.

And yet, the moment the lights were turned off and your boyfriend spooned you from behind, holding you close while his breathing slowly evened out, it was as if something had shifted in the air. An overwhelming sense of emptiness washed over you, making you feel both completely dull and overstimulated. Yunho's arms around you felt both like an anchor and a vice, the opposing feelings adding even more to the already rising chaos in your mind. You were suddenly overly aware of every part of your body, as if your own skin was calling out to you.

You didn't want to.

You knew you had to.

As gently and quietly as you could, you unwrapped yourself from Yunho's embrace and got up. He let out a soft sigh at the loss of contact, and you had to admit, you already mourned it too.

Sneaking into the bathroom, you closed the door before turning on the lights. Avoiding the reflection in the mirror, you began searching through the cabinet under the sink. You didn't want to see yourself right now. If anything, it would just add to the confusing conflict raging within you, and you really didn't need that.

Rummaging through each shelf one more time, you let out a frustrated huff. There was nothing you could use. Well, save for the expensive-looking razor Yunho owned, but you really didn't have the patience or coherency to take apart your boyfriend's belongings.

It's time, then.

The return to the bedroom was a bit stressful, as you couldn't decide between searching through your duffel bag there or bringing it with you to the bathroom. Both options seemed too noisy right now, causing you to awkwardly loom over the bag for a few moments, chewing nervously on your bottom lip.

In the end, you decided to just risk it, crouching down to begin unzipping the top. Strangely enough, you kind of hoped Yunho would hear it and wake up. Maybe the shock of being caught would stop you for the time being and you could just go back to bed.

To both your luck and dismay, Yunho didn't wake up, his biggest reaction being the slightest stir of the sheets.

With your wallet in hand, you walked back to the bathroom, your steps a bit bolder this time. Now that you knew Yunho wouldn't wake up so easily, you didn't pay as much mind to the noise you were making.

In a weird way, you were upset. Upset he didn't wake up. Upset he didn't magically realize what your new obsession with socks could possibly mean. Upset he wasn't there to stop you right now.

But along with the upset came a strange feeling of calm. Joy, even.

He doesn't know. Nobody has any idea you're doing this right now. Nobody cares enough to find out anyway. You're free to reign over your body as you please, especially if it will finally shut down the confusing mess of emotions boiling within you.

It will, right?

It's 3 am. You're staying over at Yunho's apartment and he's currently sleeping in the bedroom next-door. You finally gather enough courage to look at yourself in the mirror, but it's rather disappointing. The shell standing in front of you doesn't bring up any emotions anymore. It doesn't even look like you, you think. Maybe this isn't you, after all. That's what you like to tell yourself whenever the moment is over, that this isn't actually the real you harming yourself. This is someone else taking hold of you and your upcoming actions.

You sit down on the cold bathroom floor, a razor blade in hand. When did you unpack them? The small paper packaging and 4 other blades are lying right next to you. Huh. Guess you did just now.

You don't bother taking off the socks. A precious thing like this shouldn't be used in such a shitty spot anyways.

Then again, you also don't exactly want to die right now, so the wrists are off-limits. Sure, you want to feel more valid and that place is the most stereotypical one to cut, but you're already holding the blade you thought you'd never dare use, so that's enough "progress" for now.

Now that you think about it, the thighs sound pretty scary too. You've always heard of some major arteries being located in the thigh. Perhaps you shouldn't risk it there then. Not yet, at least.

And so, like a coward, you move back to your lower leg.

To your defense, you do go considerably higher than usual! You pick a nice spot that's vaguely in the middle of the side of your leg, where your shins and calves would meet.

Deep breaths. You can do this. Just brace yourself and-

...

Oh fuck.

No, no, no nonono-

You knew the risks, you knew you should watch out for the pressure when using a razor blade for the first time since it's so much sharper than any pair of scissors you own, but somehow even the lessened pressure you put was too much.

Within seconds, blood started flowing to the surface. You dropped the blade, making it fly in a random direction as your hands trembled.

Your eyes welled with tears as, despite the blood, you could see a gash way deeper than any cut you'd ever made until now; you could literally see two parts of your skin split-

You're gonna throw up. Or faint. Or both. Oh fuck.

The first drops of blood fell onto the tiles just as your own tears pooled over. Your chest heaved with your labored breathing. You didn't know what to do.

Should you go to the ER? Will it stop on its own? Should you wake Yunho up? Oh god, you should probably wake Yunho up, shouldn't you.

Wiping your tear-stained face as best as you could with your shirt, you crawled over to the bathroom door. You were too scared to walk, afraid you'd faint if you stood up so suddenly.

As you sat by the door, another sob wracked through you. You couldn't calm down, you were too scared of what might happen if you didn't take care of the gash in time. And yet, you couldn't help but fear what might happen if you woke Yunho up. Now that you think about it, maybe it will just stop on its own and you can hide it for the rest of the weekend and then you'll just make up a story of how you got into an accident at work and-

One look at the trail of blood behind you was enough to get your hands on the door handle, pulling the door open on your second try. The door handle flew back up with a loud bang as you dropped back down, but the door was open at last. You pulled it fully open from where you sat, taking a few shallow breaths once you did so.

"...Y/N?"

Now. Now he wakes up. Not at any point before you could have done this. Now.

In the back of your mind, a strange feeling of anger bubbled up. Somehow, you wanted to blame Yunho for not getting to you sooner. But the second you realized what your brain was trying to do, you felt another pang of nausea hit you.

Yunho was not to blame in the slightest. This is all you. You started this, you went through with it, and now you're crawling back to him for help. Don't even try to put any blame on him, no matter how much easier it would make this whole thing to stomach.

"Y/N, are you okay?"

Right, he was awake. The shuffling of the sheets coming from the bedroom confirmed as much.

You tried to call out to him but choked on another sob instead.

All of your fear of being seriously hurt and needing help immediately shifted, transforming into the most heart-wrenching wave of guilt imaginable. Just what have you done? Why are you burdening someone else with this? Are you really going to make him see this?

Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by the first footstep. All the raging panic hit you anew, making you speak before you could think.

"W-wait!" You cried, an unknown feeling of desperation clutching your chest. "Please, please don't come here, please."

To your surprise, the footsteps actually stopped.

"...I'm waiting, but please tell me what's going on," Yunho replied with obvious unease.

Well, uh. You haven't exactly thought this far, have you?

"O-okay, I, well, I," you stumbled over your words, trying to work through the mush of your brain to come up with anything even barely comprehensible. "I did something really bad and I think I need your help but you have to promise not to be mad. I don't know what to do but please don't be upset."

Selfish. That's what you were. Even amongst all this chaos and pain you were about to drag Yunho into, all you could think about was saving your own face and evading consequences.

"Y/N, I'm sorry but I'm coming in," Yunho suddenly announced, and the footsteps resumed. "I need to see if you're okay, I promise I won't be mad."

There was no escaping it now. You could only brace yourself for the worst, whatever that would entail.

Two feet stood before your hunched-over form. You didn't dare look up, you didn't dare see what he was feeling.

As carefully as he could, Yunho stepped around you and further into the bathroom. You heard the scraping of metal across tiles before the cabinet doors opened. A towel, a first aid kit, and a medium-sized, colorful box appeared before you, along with your boyfriend in his cozy pajamas. Still, you didn't dare look up.

Wordlessly, he propped your injured leg up as gently as he could, as if he was handling the finest china in the world. Placing the dark grey towel under it, blood immediately rolled down and seeped into the material.

"Okay, this might seem a bit weird, but just- I'm not an expert or anything, far from it, really, but-"

As Yunho rambled nervously, you watched his hands tear open a pack of pads. Ever since your sleepovers became a more regular thing, he'd made sure to keep some in his apartment at all times in case of an emergency. Never had he thought he'd use them in this type of emergency, though.

You watched in confusion as he pulled out one of the pads, opening it and double-checking which side was sticky and which was dry. Unable to hide his worried grimace as he got closer to the wound, he pressed the cotton pad against it.

"I- I probably have something better in the first aid kit to stop the bleeding, but while I look through it, just hold that down to the cut, okay?"

You nodded weakly, deciding not to ask any questions and just let your boyfriend try to fix you. Not that you could say much anyway, not with the way your throat had dried and closed up from all the anxiety.

You silently kept watch as Yunho fumbled through the red bag, noticing the slight tremors in his hands. When you looked at his face, however, it appeared surprisingly neutral.

Ah, so he was trying to stay calm to not worry you any further, but on the inside, he was freaking out just as much as you, if not more. Great. You didn't think you could feel more guilt than you already had, but guess not.

"I'm sorry it's taking so long," he spoke up again, "Mingi would get injured all the time before he'd moved out - you know how clumsy he can get - and I, uh, haven't exactly taken the time to re-organize everything. Sorry."

Your lips twitched into the smallest of smiles, along with a hushed "It's okay, babe".

Yunho's eyes shot up at your words, mirroring your soft smile with his own. Pausing his search for just a second, he leaned over and planted a quick, reassuring kiss on your forehead. "You're right. I'll take good care of you, don't worry. After the first accident Mingi had here, I bought some steri-strips... They should still be around here somewhere, but we threw the original packaging away, so they're just a bit hard to find."

You hummed in understanding, hoping you could ease at least some of his worries by showing him you were doing alright.

Somehow, the moment Yunho appeared in the doorway, all of your previous panic stopped. It was as if through his presence, the jumbled mess of worries surrounding you had split into two. Yunho had graciously shouldered the worries about your physical state, while you focused on keeping his mental well-being in check. All of the fear about his reaction to this situation as a whole was still there, of course, but for the time being, you'd managed to shove them to the back of your mind. It was something to worry about later, when the two of you could calm down and properly talk to each other.

For now, all you had to do was just worry about Yunho while he worried about you.

"Finally!" Yunho sighed in relief, fishing out two small packs of steri-strips. "Okay. Let's do this, then."

But as he shuffled closer to your leg again, he paused.

"Wait, I'm sorry for assuming," he began while opening the first set, "but you don't want to go to the hospital, right? They'd obviously do a much better job than me, but since you said you needed my help, I just, I guessed that- you know. Should we go to the hospital instead?"

You immediately shook your head no, making Yunho smile faintly, glad to have read you right and that he wasn't wasting time trying to play hero.

You were thankful he didn't insist on taking you to the hospital. You knew it would probably be for the best, but right now, in your state, you couldn't even fathom going. You were terrified just crawling to the door to beg for Yunho's help, let alone driving to the opposite part of town to have complete strangers examine you.

"Right then," Yunho sighed, mentally steeling himself for the next step. "Can you feel your leg fine? Feeling faint or anything?"

You just shook your head, slowly easing the pressure you held on the cut. "I'm okay, I think. Just a little shaken up still."

Yunho nodded thoughtfully, helping you unstick the bloody pad from your hand. Luckily, it seemed that most of the bleeding had stopped, at least for now. "It's okay, I'm a bit out of it too."

"Sorry for making you do this," you whispered sincerely, but Yunho quickly stopped you again.

"Don't be sorry, Y/N. I know you didn't mean to do this. You wouldn't have called for me like that if things went down the way you wanted them to."

You couldn't bring yourself to say anything after that, feeling your throat tighten as a fresh wave of tears rushed to your eyes.

You averted your gaze as Yunho began cleaning the area as gently as he could before placing the strips down, helping hold the wound shut. Four strips helped the cut close up, and then two were laid on top of them to help everything stay put. Despite no professional medical training, you swear your boyfriend could do anything like an expert first-try. Well, considering him saying something about treating Mingi's injuries, he might have actually trained a bit already. Either way, you could feel your nerves easing a considerable bit at the sight of the gash finally closed-up.

"There we go," Yunho said contently, giving your other leg a gentle pat. "Just stay put a little longer, okay? I'm gonna clean up a bit in here."

Oh, that's right.

You were so out of it you completely forgot about the blades scattered around, the blood dripping across the floor, the towel, pads, first aid kit, everything.

Closing your eyes, you tried to focus on your breathing. It has mostly returned to normal, but you could still feel a lot of tightness in your chest.

"Hey now, don't go falling asleep on me, okay?" You heard Yunho calling out to you a few meters away, making you peek one eye open.

He was kneeling by the sink, scrubbing at the dirty tiles. When he noticed you looking at him, he flashed you a quick, comforting smile.

"'m not falling asleep," you protested, "I'm just resting a bit, sorry."

"It's okay, I was just a little worried."

Yeah. That's definitely one way to put how Yunho was likely feeling right now.

But that could be dwelled on and discussed later. For now, all you had to do was sit still, breathe deep, and stay strong.

...

"You still with me, princess?"

You opened your eyes again, this time to find Yunho sitting in front of you. You don't know how much time has passed, too focused on pacing your breaths, saying the alphabet forwards and backwards, thinking about your favorite TV show moments - anything to calm down, really.

When he saw you were still fully awake, he pulled out a gauze bandage with a small smile. "We should be fine with just the steri-strips, but let me wrap this up for you to be one hundred percent safe, okay?"

You let him do as he pleased, trusting his judgment better than your own at the moment. As he bandaged your leg, you looked around the room, noticing everything was back the way it was before you'd entered.

"I put the, uh, the blades away for now," Yunho continued, a nervous edge to his tone. "I didn't want to just throw them away without permission, but leaving them out here in the open didn't seem like a great idea either. Sorry if it seems distrustful, it's just... you know."

"You're scared I might do it again," you finished for him, making him nod hesitantly. "It's okay, I get it."

It was honestly surprising how easy it was to talk to Yunho about this. Maybe it's because he already saw the worst of it, maybe it was the way he took such gentle care of you, or maybe it was just his entire attitude about this so far. Caring, non-judgemental, open to listen.

"Alright then, I think we're done here. Let's get you to bed, shall we?"

Before you could respond, you were picked up by a pair of strong, warm hands. You wanted to object for a split second, but on second thought, maybe it was in your best interest not to move too much right now.

A few moments later, you were laid back down on the bed, a soft kiss pressed to your temple before you were shrouded in your blanket. With a whispered promise of returning again, Yunho rushed back to turn off the lights and close the door, enveloping the two of you in darkness. You waited a second, two, and then the bed dipped behind you with a quiet creak.

"Come here." Yunho's arms wrapped around your waist from behind again, holding you closer than before. "Is this okay? Should I give you space?"

"It's fine, Yuyu."

His chest shook with a small chuckle. "Oh come on, don't call me that right now." He somehow snuggled up even closer to you, pressing his face into your neck. "I'm already emotional enough as is."

A beat or two of silence passed between the two of you before he spoke up again.

"Was this," Yunho paused, hesitating for a second, "was this the first time you did something like this, or are there... more?"

You sighed. "Well, this was the first time I've messed up like this and used an actual razor blade, but in general? There's been a few instances, yeah. Most of them happened years ago, but lately, it started up again."

Yunho stayed quiet this time. As the silence stretched on, you began to grow worried. Is this the moment where he gets mad at you?

A sniffle broke through the air, quickly followed by another. The hold around your waist tightened.

"It's the socks, isn't it?" Yunho barely choked out, voice trembling.

Never have you felt so guilty in your life before.

"I thought it was weird, I wanted to ask you about it, I really did," he sobbed, burying his wet face further into your shirt. "I didn't want to make you feel bad about it if it was genuinely just something you preferred, so I held back, but it worried me anyway. I should have asked so much sooner."

"Yu..." You tried to turn around in his embrace, but he stopped you, not letting you see his tearful eyes. "Honey, it's not your fault in the slightest, please don't beat yourself up about it."

"But I should have-"

"Just listen to the same advice you gave me, hm? You never wanted this to happen, you wouldn't be so torn up about it otherwise. It's really not your fault."

With what you assumed to be a watery hum of agreement, Yunho nodded into your back.

You tried to turn around again, and this time, Yunho finally let you. You watched as his silhouette sat up, reaching around for the tissue box on the nightstand before wiping his tears and blowing his nose.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, crumpling the tissue and putting it away, "you're the one hurting and I'm making it all about myself."

You tutted softly as he laid back down, shuffling closer to him to drape yourself over his broad chest. "That's not true, Yun. I know this is really hard on you as well, you have all the right to be upset. Please don't hide it just because I'm also in pain."

"Okay," he accepted, taking a deep breath to calm himself.

The room stayed quiet for another few minutes, save for the faint rustling of the sheets as you intertwined one of your hands with his.

"If it's okay," Yunho croaked in a careful, ginger tone, "could we maybe talk more about this tomorrow? I feel like I have over a million questions right now, but I don't want to overwhelm you when you should be resting."

You let out a small, sleepy chuckle. "Yeah, that sounds good. I think I'll also feel a bit better if we talk about this some more tomorrow. It's a bit embarrassing even now when I know that you know, but I trust you enough to share this part of me, I think."

Yunho leaned down to kiss the top of your head, making you smile. "Thank you, you have no idea how much that means to me. And please, never feel embarrassed about this. Just because this stuff is not talked about enough doesn't mean your feelings are wrong or not valid. We'll figure this out together, I promise. No matter what it takes."

"Okay. I look forward to tomorrow," you said, pressing a quick peck to his sternum before lying down again. "Goodnight, Yuyu."

"Goodnight, love."

Please, don't hesitate to reblog or comment!! Any kind of feedback is much appreciated!! <333

(Also would once again like to say that this was not meant to romanticize SH in any way, and I hope it did not come across that way. Take care, everyone <3)

#ateez x reader #ateez comfort #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #yunho x reader #yunho comfort #ateez fluff #yunho fluff #yunho oneshot #ateez oneshot #ateez x y/n #ateez hurt/comfort #yunho imagines #ateez angst #yunho angst

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disgustingtwitches · 2 months

Text

**MDNI**

"The closest to heaven we'll ever get"

Saw a lot of stuff about Simon helping out a s*x worker. Anyways, it reminded me of a personal experience I had so... Here I am 😃

5.5k words

*This is kind of Simon needing company and being a weirdo who needs constant validation.

Not gonna lie, it gets blasphemous at the end!

I always played around with the idea of being an escort. I was offered to do things while working in the strip club, but I always turned it down. I was spending every dollar I made because I could always make more, right? But when I broke up with my ex and realized I didn't have the credit or rental history to get my own place, I started panicking. The only option was to put down at least three months rent cash upfront, to even be considered. Suddenly, money was drying up at the club for me, my regulars were being whisked away by girls who would do more for less. I couldn't really get mad, it's just a part of the game really. So I knew what needed to be done.

I hit up one of my girlfriends and told her that I needed the extra cash and what I was willing to do for it. She helped me set up a website, took professional photos of me, made me business cards. The whole nine yards. Now all I had to do was wait. About a week in, I finally get my first client. It was awkward and surprisingly, both of our first times in this situation. I was sent back home in a black car and a few hundred bucks richer for just 30 minutes of my time. I felt a rush I never felt before.

As the months rolled by, the money came. Luxury was the new standard for me. Designer everything, nice dinners, even nicer dates. To my surprise a majority of my clientele were, at most, 10 years older than me, and even more surprisingly, good looking. Finance bros, guys with daddy's money, or just men who had the money to spare. They always talked about how it was more fun and less work to hire me than get a girlfriend. To get a pretty girl in their arm to parade around that wouldn't bicker and give them a hard time at the end of the night. No feelings attached, just company and good sex.

So here I am Saturday night. Instead of going out to the club like a normal woman my age in Manhattan should be doing. I am in my hotel. Waiting for a call or text from someone. Anybody. My hair in rollers, makeup half done. Just waiting. My phone lights up, a text coming in:

Hi, Gia. Was interested in spending an hour with you tonight, 11pm.

I smiled to myself. Finally, someone who reads my ad properly. Follows the instructions on what to text to me. Straight to the point.

Wonderful, just need a picture of your ID or passport.

I reply. Always a rule my girlfriend drilled into my head. Safety first. If they don't do it, then what could they be planning? Anything goes bad and all you have is a name that couldn't even be real. Any client worth your time understands your safety is a priority. So this was my way of feeling safer. A moment passes before my phone dings again.

A picture of a passport, full name and age. Along with a picture. He's cute. A little older than what I usually get but I'm not complaining. I quickly look him up, nothing out of the ordinary. Good.

Great. Thank you, Simon. I'll send an address for you to send a car at 10:20. Reach out to you then❤️

Before I start to get ready he texts,

Wear something casual.

Not an odd request. Actually most clients prefer it. Want more of a girlfriend vibe rather than an escort. I finished getting ready, helping myself to a glass of wine. Playing my usual bad bitch songs, it helped me turn into the woman I needed to be- from me to Gia.

10:25 rolls around. I get a screenshot of the Uber from him. 5 minutes out. I grab my purse and strut out of my hotel, to a nearby park. Never give your real address. Always make sure you're not being followed.

A black SUV pulls up, I slide in. Exchange pleasantries with the driver and I'm off. Headed to midtown. I share my location with a friend and how long I should be gone. My phone goes off.

Walk into the building and head to the elevators on the left. 36th floor. Apt. 4A.

I nod to myself before shooting a text of confirmation.

Got it. See you soon ;)

I pull up to the building, it's huge. Nicer than most places I've been. He must have some serious cash. I walk into the building and follow the directions he gave me. A little adrenaline rushes through me as I walk up to the door, always did when meeting someone new. I knock. He almost immediately opens the door, as if he was standing in front of it. Waiting.

Simon!

I say with a wide smile. He steps aside as I walk in, looking around. Nice place. Really nice place. Ceiling to floor windows, minimalist decor, the lovely smell of something masculine and expensive. He looks me up and down as I turn to him.

You look just like your pictures.

His voice is deep, alluring, unreadable. Sends a chill up my thighs that shoots straight to my core.

You do too.

I reply playfully. A small twitch plays at the corner of his mouth before disappearing. His face inscrutable. I shimmy off my coat before he takes it, hanging it up in a closet near the entrance. I wait for him to move. He stands, hands in his pockets, studying me. An awkward minute passes before he walks to the living room. I follow.

Really nice place you got here.

I try to make the moment more comfortable.

Hm.

He responds. He wasn't like the other men I've seen before. They are sociable, or at least try to be. I take a seat on the couch next to him, our knees barely touching.

Money's there.

He gestures to an envelope on the table. I nod, grabbing it.

Do you mind if I...?

I ask, opening it up. He nods and stands to pour himself a drink. My eyes widen. This is more than my usual rate. Much more. I'm quiet, trying not to show my shock.

Was hoping to do an overnight, if that's alright.

It was less of a question and more of a statement from him. It was more than enough for a night. I nodded.

Of course, I do wish you would've told me; I would've packed a bag.

I smiled, putting the envelope down on the table. I grab my phone and update my friend on how long I'd be gone for. I put away the phone quickly and look up at him. God, was he hot. And the way he carried himself made him even hotter, so nonchalant. He shrugged, sipping his drink before sitting next to me again, some space between us.

How long you been doing this?

He stares at me, gaze so intense I squirm a little.

Just a few months.

We're quiet again. Usually I try to carry a conversation if the other party can't hold one, but he makes me nervous. I talk again, asking mundane questions. It's like pulling teeth trying to have small talk with him. Maybe he's just not much of a talker.

I scoot closer to him, our knees barely touching. He puts his drink down, and rests his arms on the back of the couch. I lean in closer to him, resting my hand on his thigh before kissing his lips. He kisses back softly. We exchange light, almost timid kisses for awhile. He finally moves. A hand reaching up to grab at my hair, gently pulling. I moan faintly and that seems to set him off. He grabs me by the throat, not hard, just enough to stand me up and guide me to his bedroom; our kisses getting more intense. We strip each other of our clothes. I unbuckle his pants and pull them down, it feels like I'm opening a gift on Christmas. He's big. I smile up at him. He just looks down vacantly. I pull down his boxers and his erection springs up, tip drooling. He opens a drawer next to the bed, pulling out a condom and rolling it on himself.

Lay back.

He commands. I obey, opening my legs. I've done this so many times before, but this time it's different. As unceremoniously as he's treating this, I can't be more excited. His body is amazing, tattoos and scars just adding to the mysterious aura. His natural scent drives me wild. I look up to him as he crawls over me, lining himself up with me. He gives a couple lazy slaps on my slick. I take a sharp breath. He watches as he slides himself in, I tense up. Most guys are well... average. And he's well... much more than that.

Relax.

He huffs. Sliding himself in more, not giving me any time to adjust. I grip the bedsheets, clenching my jaw. I stare up at him, he doesn't even look at me. His face emotionless as he watches himself slide in and out. I try to unclench, opening myself up more to him.

Mhm...

He grunts. My nipples harden at his voice. I moan as he slams into my cervix repeatedly. It makes him shoot his eyes up at me, glaring into mine. His eyes dark pools, intense. He roughly hooks his arms under my knees, pushing them up to my chest. He digs even deeper into me as I whimper. He takes quick, shallow breaths.

You're so deep.

I say panting, the breath getting knocked out of me. I reach out to touch his muscular arms. He grunts and pounds harder into me. I throw my head back, whining. Trying to not wince in pain. He slows for a moment, pulling back, keeping my legs on his shoulders as he slides in and out. My breasts bounce up and down with each thrust.

You're hot.

A hint of emotion in his voice, he reaches down to knead my chest. My face gets hot. I tighten around him.

Fuck...

He makes a sound that almost resembles a moan. I smile up at him, almost proud of making him show any emotion. He looks down at me, a flicker in his eyes, a small smirk on his face that leaves as quickly as it came. He parts my legs and rubs at my clit in rough circles. I squirm under him.

Say my name.

He orders. His strokes picking up as I get used to him.

Simon~

As soon as his name leaves my lips, a deep rumble from his chest fills my ears. He leans over me, arms on either side of my head. I reach up to run my hands up and down the back of his neck.

Say you love me.

His request takes me aback. I pull him closer, my lips just under his ear.

I love you~

He immediately tenses up and takes a heavy breath. I could feel him twitch inside me as he finishes. He pulls away quickly, going to the bathroom to throw out the condom and clean up. He brings back a wet towel, wiping me down.

What's your name?

His tone as flat as ever.

Gia.

I responded. I know what he's actually asking me. Never, ever tell a trick your real name. Hell, he shouldn't even know your real age.

You know what I mean.

He glares at me. I shift awkwardly. Don't do it. He doesn't say a word, just stares in a way that makes me uncomfortable. Why should he know your real name anyways? I tell him my name. Stupid. Fucking dumbass. I kick myself. He nods and slides into some sweats, throwing me his shirt.

Let's watch something.

I throw on his shirt. Now this is what I'm used to. Being a temporary girlfriend. Pretending to be affectionate. Giving much needed companionship. He splays out on the couch as I lay on top of him. He turns on the TV, resting a hand on my ass and squeezing it. Maybe this is why he hires girls. Because of how distant he is. The man can't even hold a conversation. He flicks on some show he was in the middle of, a business dramedy that I couldn't care less about. I rest my head on his chest and he runs his fingers through my hair. We're like this for a while, quiet.

Tell me you love me.

He says dryly, looking down at me. I look up and kiss him.

I love you, Simon.

He gets hard immediately, rubbing himself on me. He gets up, lifting me up effortlessly, and throws me on the bed. He lays on top of me, pinning me down onto the bed. Kissing me much more passionately this time, like he was trying to taste every inch of my mouth.

Keep saying it.

His voice gruff. He moves his kisses down to my neck, pawing at my bust.

I love you, Simon.

I moan. I wanted him so badly. I don't care how I got him, I just wanted to take him. Something about him made me go crazy, deep inside. He yanks up the shirt I was wearing, moving his kisses more and more south.

You fuck other people raw?

I shake my head. I might've been a whore, but I wasn't reckless.

Never.

He nods.

Can I eat you out?

I look down at him. Something about seeing him between my legs makes me wanna say yes. The way his eyes looks almost as if he's pleading, desperate. No way. Never do that.

Yes.

I allow him to keep going. What the fuck am I doing? Why am I allowing this? Before I can think more, he plunges his tongue between my lips. Lapping up desperately, burying his face into me. I roll my eyes back, running my fingers through his hair.

I love you, Simon.

I gasp. It's the only thing he wanted me to say. I saw something in him, the way he reacted when I said that, it made me want to stay in his place forever. To never leave. Make him happy. It's just the good head talking, you'll snap back to your senses afterwards. He moans so quietly I can barely hear it. Barely. My legs on his shoulders, his arms wrapped around my thighs. Digging fingers into the soft flesh. He sucks on my nub repeatedly. It's a tortuously delicious feeling. I grip his hair a little.

I love you, Simon.

I look down at him, watching him devour me. He looks up at me, his eyes showing an emotion I can't decipher. He moves one hand down to slide two fingers into me.

I love you, Simon.

I moan, throwing my head back and smiling.

Hmm...

He mumbled into my heat. Pumping in and out before bending his fingers in a way that presses against my sweet spot. I hiss, pleasure flashing through me like a strobe light. I'm dripping wet. He pulls his fingers out and plunges his tongue into my entrance, trying to suck out every drop of my juices.

You taste good.

Voice as flat as ever, as if he isn't lost in between my folds. He drags his tongue up between my lips, from my entrance to my nub again. He slips his fingers in again, pressing up against my sweet spot repeatedly. I get lost in the feeling. God I could stay like this forever. He looks up at me, like he's looking for validation.

I love you, Simon~

I slip out between heavy breaths. He picks up the pace of his fingers and tongue. My face gets hot as I get closer, grip his hair a little harder. He goes even faster, harder, almost feverant. I roll my eyes back, panting. I whimper before crying out, tightening around his fingers in a vice grip.

I love you, Simon~

I force the words from my throat as I spasm under him. He continues, seemingly determined to draw another climax out of me. I mewled, trying to push his head away. He was unmoving for an unbearable moment. The only sounds were my pants and his slurping.

I love you, Simon.

I wailed, almost hoping it'll make him stop. He does thankfully. He pulls away, tearing off his sweats, beating off himself. Staring at me, his gaze is intense as ever. He grabs me by the thighs and drags me into his lap. He continues to stroke himself, staring into my wet core as if he was hypnotized by it.

Can I...

He starts, almost knowing he shouldn't ask the question.

Can I fuck you raw?

His voice is uncharacteristically soft and unsure. I blink at him, mind racing. ABORT! ABORT! THIS IS LIKE RULE #1 IN HOE-ING!!! He looked so delicious from this angle, his eyes still glued on my wetness. ARE YOU INSANE?? NO!! His throbbing, beautiful dick is twitching.

...yes.

I nod. You're the dumbest person on the planet. I insult myself a million different ways in my head. A brief moment of regret is replaced with pleasure as he slides his tip teasingly in and out of me. His jaw clenches, chest rising and falling faster. His voice cracks as a moan escapes him, his eyebrows furrow.

I love you, Simon.

I stare at him, eyes half lidded. The smallest smile spreads across his face, still looking at himself entering me. He inches his way in. Pulling in and out, going deeper each time. I squeeze him, make him bite his lip.

That's good.

He stated, voice quavering. He clears his throat before grabbing one leg and lifting it to my chest, digging deep into me. I take a sharp breath in. He hovers over me, arms on either side of my head again. He slides in and out, slowly at first then picking up to a punishing pace. I whimper and wiggle under him. He grabs my face, forcing me to look into his eyes that bore into mine.

I love you, Simon.

I stare right back at him, passion shooting right out of my eyes. His eyes flutter for a moment before blinking back into his cold, unnerving self. He continues to dig himself into me, slamming and grinding himself into the deepest parts of me. It's a painfully addicting feeling. I take his hand and press it up against my lower stomach so he can feel how much he fills me. He clenches his jaw so hard, it looks like his head could pop.

I love you, Simon.

I whisper. He drops down on top of me, snaking his arms around and behind my back to grab my ass. His mouth right next to my ear, I can hear his fast and shallow breaths. Little groans that slip out every now and then. I wrap my arms around his neck, holding him tighter.

I love you, Simon.

I hear him groan under me as I said it again. He goes faster than before, pretty much jackhammering me into the mattress. My mouth is agape and head thrown back. Only grunts escape my throat as I get fucked senseless.

Mhm...like that?

His words bounce around in my empty head. I replay it in my head over and over until I clench around him, he doesn't stop though. It only seems to spur him on even more. His warm breath tickling my ear as it gets more ragged.

Keep saying it.

He demands through gritted teeth.

Fuck... I love you, Simon.

I squeak out the words. He huffs and continues to rampage my body.

Can I come inside you?

He asks- No, begs. No use in turning back now. Just the thought made me close again.

Yes.

I nod and he breathes harder and harder until he pleads in a strained voice,

Say it.

I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside me.

I love you, Simon~

He spills inside me. His stammered breaths and moans driving me crazy. The feeling of him pumping into me driving me over the edge. I pull him closer, practically squeezing him.

I love you, Simon.

I tenderly kiss the top of his head as he nuzzles into my neck.

How often do you do this?

My head clears, a wave of regret coming over me.

Never. I never even hired anyone before you.

He says in a way so sincere I honestly believe him. How do you know when a trick is lying? Their mouth is open. Rules. Rules to live by, to be able to survive doing what I do. Rules. They all meant nothing as soon as I laid eyes on him. Somehow saw this coming a mile away in the back of my head. He pulled away from my grasp, disappointment flooded me. He leaned back, opening my legs: watching both of our cum dripping out of me.

Say it.

His eyes so focused, as if he were trying to take a picture with his mind; so he would never forget this moment.

I love you, Simon.

I say with a tender smile. His dick jumps. Good lord is this man insatiable. He stands up and does the same routine as before, cleaning himself up and then me. He hands me his shirt:

Here.

I throw it on and he leads me to the bathroom, grabbing me by the shoulders and making me face the mirror. He gently pushes my back, I lean my elbows on the countertop. I stand on the balls of my feet, trying to get my hips to meet his. As I look in the mirror, his face looks almost tender watching me sway my hips.

I love you, Simon~

I sing softly. He bites his lip, entering me again. God, I never get used to the feeling. He grabs my hips and pulls me onto him, he bottoms me out. Groaning louder this time, he pulls my hair back so I'm looking directly at the mirror, locking eyes with him.

S'it, pretty girl...

A corner of his mouth upturned just enough to know he's enjoying himself. His words make me flutter around him. He groans and starts to pound into me. The bathroom is filled with the duet of our breaths and groans. He pulls my hair so my back is pressed against his chest. He rests a hand on my throat, squeezing just enough. Moves his lips to my neck, still sliding in and out of me.

You love me? Huh?

He grunts, warm breath on the pulse of my neck.

I love you. So much.

I moaned. I repeated the phrase so many times, it started coming out of my mouth naturally. He moved his hand from my hair to my lower stomach, pressing against it so he could feel himself hitting my walls.

You love this dick, yeah? Say it.

His voice getting more demanding and urgent. I nod and look at him through the mirror, smiling.

I love it, I love this dick so much, Simon~

He nips at my neck as he continues to fuck me. His nips turn into bites. Bites that definitely leave marks. I didn't care, that didn't matter right now.

You're never fucking leaving, you know that?

A threat that sounded like heaven to me. He could keep me chained to the bed and I wouldn't care, just as long as he kept fucking me like this. I giggled with excitement.

You like that, hm?

He smiles against my skin before continuing to lick and bite my neck.

I love it~

I truly did. It felt heavenly. Better than anyone I've ever had. Ever. Something felt so familiar about his touch. As if I belonged there.

I love you, Simon~

At this point I feel like I'm reciting a prayer, the words flowing out of me like a stream. I was melting in his arms.

Turn around, wanna see that pretty face.

I did so eagerly as he lifted me up on the counter and slid inside me. I smirked up at him. He, as always, was watching himself impale me.

Looks so pretty...

He seemingly mumbled to himself. He leaned down and pressed our foreheads together, a firm hand on the back of my head. Hitting a spot so deep inside me I never knew I had. We were like this for a long minute, sloppy sounds of our sex bouncing off the walls.

I love you, Simon.

I stared into his eyes. They seem to soften for a moment before he tightened the grip on the back of my neck. A huff, and then he came undone. He stayed inside me until he was soft. He pulls out and pushes his fingers into my cunt, stuffing his seed back into me.

Hm.

He grunts in a way that sounds like approval before helping me off the counter. He leads me to bed and slips under the covers.

In my arms.

Commanding as he usually does. I press my head against his chest, his heart beating hard and fast. He wraps an arm around me, his touch much gentler than before. I fall asleep. Not too sure if he does too.

Morning comes and I'm woken up by the sun shining in my face. Sitting up, I'm in his bed, still wearing his shirt. Alone. I walk out to the living room and see him setting up breakfast on the coffee table.

You made this?

I question, surprised.

Ordered it. Good morning.

He turns to me, shoving his hands in his pockets. He looks at me expectantly. I blink at him.

Good morning.

I say. He looks at me as if he was anticipating something else. I think for a moment before suddenly remembering.

I love you, Simon.

He steps to the side, inviting me to sit on the couch. I help myself to a seat and look at the plate in front of me. It's simple, French toast and eggs. I help myself.

Are you gonna eat anything?

I look at him quizzically. He shakes his head, staring like always. We're silent as I finish my plate. I grab my phone and check the time. Almost time for me to leave.

Can I book you for longer?

His voice is gruff. An underlying tone, pleading?

It'll be expensive.

I didn't want to say that. Wanted to say I'll stay as long as he likes. But I already made too many mistakes. Gotta get back on track.

I don't care.

Of course he didn't. He could probably buy me out for the rest of my life if he wanted to. He pulled out his phone, asking for my personal number so he could send the money straight to my bank account. Hesitantly I gave it to him. He probably could find out that stuff if he wanted to anyways. My phone dings, I check my bank app. My eyes pop out of my head. I look up at him bewildered.

How long would that get me?

He asks, as if he didn't send me an ungodly amount of money.

It's enough for a whole week...

Shock still overwhelming me.

You wanna stay that long?

He doesn't really ask. He knows I'll say yes. Doesn't even wait for my answer.

I'll let you get your things.

He throws some of his clothes my way and sends me back in a car to the hotel. I grab my bags and checkout. Is this really happening? A call from my girlfriend. I tell her about his extension. She says something about making sure he's not a serial killer. We laugh, tells me to have fun, don't fall in love. I scoff as if that was the stupidest idea I've heard. As soon as I know it I'm back at his place, he's grabbing bags from me, setting them to the side. Turning to me and running a hand up the side of my waist.

I love you, Simon.

We spend the whole week tangled up in each other. Taking a break before I say those four words and he has me pinned against a wall or over a dresser or kitchen counter. Any flat surface, really.

It's Saturday night and we're showering, cleaning off sweat and other bodily fluids from each other. His touch is so gentle, handling me like I was a piece of china. He liked me. It was obvious. Seemed like the only way he knew how to show it was by fucking me, though. I liked him too. Maybe not to the extent he did.

Seemed like he found something he needed for a long time. He was hungry. Famished. He couldn't just let go of me. He's not satiated yet. Don't know if he'll ever be. It was a looming feeling. Dark and heavy. A little scary. But it made me feel more desired than I've ever been before. And not just a carnal desire. It made me feel coveted.

We're laid up on his couch. Watching the show I didn't care for before, a little more invested. My phone lights up, buzzing. The name of a regular of mine across the screen in big bold letters. This is usually the time of the month he calls to set up a date. A reminder that this is all temporary. I let it go to voicemail. He tenses up. Jealousy and disappointment radiating off him.

How much for the whole month?

He doesn't even let me think of an answer before speaking again.

How much to make you quit for good?

I'm a little shook, sure I've heard it a dozen times before. Always said in jest. But he's serious. The few words he said, he always seemed to mean. No need to waste his breath beating around the bush. My heart races. I can feel his pound against mine. A number doesn't come to my head.

Let's just see how this goes.

He doesn't like that answer. He wants something solid. A promise that I'll never leave. More than a promise. But that's as good as he can get right now. There's a tense silence between us.

I love you, Simon.

The only thing I can think of saying right now. He takes hold of me, climbing into the bed and sits me in his lap. His back against the headboard.

C'mon love.

He says frigid. An underlying tone of disappointment and hurt. I slide myself down on him, a little more adjusted to his size now. He wraps strong arms around my waist, pulling me so close it seems like he wants to coalesce into my very being.

Give me a number.

A demand that seems more like a plea. We hold each other. Unmoving as he is still buried deep inside me.

Maybe it is a little toxic to spiral into the addiction to fast money. Maybe I'm a little sick of pretending to be the perfect woman. Maybe it is a little exhausting to be a fantasy and nothing more. Maybe it is a little lonely when it's just me lying in bed, when I have to comfort others. Where's my comfort in all of this? Where's my happiness in all of this? No more fake smiles. No more fake orgasms. No more fake feelings. I don't care if he's lying. I want to indulge in delusion. Even for a moment.

Ok.

I give in. He leans over, placing me on my back before adjusting himself on top of me. Touches my face, his showing an emotion that is genuine and staggering. Devotion? It feels like it.

I could almost cry, the way he takes me like I'm his. The way he talks to me like I'm not someone he hired. That didn't matter anymore. I wasn't an escort to him. I was his girl. The sex was different. Transcendant. Divine. Did I know I wanted to be saved? Of course I didn't know; for the life of sin and suffering is simply a thing to toil in until you are shown salvation. Every time he came, he baptized me. I was born again in his eyes, I was perfect and clean. Absolved of my sins.

He looked at me with so much adoration. I looked up at him, much in the same way Magdalene did to her Redeemer. He had turned a prostitute into a Saint. The unshakeable feeling of deliverance washed over as he touched me, no longer a leper. I was saved by him. His body. His sweat. His seed. Akin to taking Communion. The closest to heaven we'll ever get.

#cod #cod x reader #cod mw2 #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #longer reads

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lavenderstobins · 5 months

Text

It's the third day in a row that Wayne Munson has seen the girl in the diner.

Usually, he doesn't pay attention to new faces. He's been frequenting the diner for some years now and there's often ones he doesn't recognise: people passing through Hawkins, visiting family, etc.

The girl has caught his attention, though. She's sitting tucked into the far corner of the diner, a glass of water in front of her and nothing else. She's wearing the same t-shirt and flannel shirt she'd been wearing yesterday, and the day before, he's pretty sure. She didn't order any food yesterday; she hasn't ordered any food today.

Bev likes to joke he has a sense for kids who need help. Says there's an alarm in his head that makes him worry himself sick whenever there's a waif in need.

She's sitting next to him now, one eyebrow raised. He sighs. Waif in need alarm, indeed.

"What's the deal with the kid?" he murmurs, nodding subtly in the girl's direction.

Bev shrugs. "Beats me. That's Robert's girl, that's all I know."

He frowns. "Robert?"

"Nurse. Took good care of me when my knee went bad." She takes a swig of coffee, her eyes going sad. "Died, oh, maybe eight months back."

Wayne looks back at the girl. She's staring down at her half-empty glass of water. Tucked under the table there's a bulky-looking backpack.

"She got family?"

"Just her mother, far as I know. Met her a couple of times, too. 'Nother nurse. Seems nice enough."

"Hmph." Wayne turns back to his coffee. Ain't his business, he tells himself firmly. He should focus on his lunch.

When he gets up to pay, he glances once more in the girl's direction. He'll give it a couple of days, he decides. If she's still here then, still in the same clothes, he'll see if she's alright.

—

Wayne doesn't even last the day.

He's on his way home from work when he sees movement in a phonebox on the side of the road. The road's empty aside from him, and it's raining, and the sky's getting dark, so it immediately strikes him as odd. When he sees it's the teenage girl from earlier, he nearly crashes his truck with how hard he hits the brakes.

She's huddled down in the phonebox, clasping the backpack he'd noticed. She looks sodden. It had been raining heavier earlier; from the looks of it, she'd been caught in it. Her hair's plastered to her face and she's shivering.

He's winding down his window before his brain's even caught up to the movement. He's actually not sure how to go about it, very conscious of the fact that it's just the two of them out here and she's a teenage girl while he's an old man.

Feeling very much like he's approaching a wild animal, he clears his throat. "You okay, miss?"

The girl jumps, her head jerking up. She looks at him with wild eyes, wide and afraid. She reminds him of Eddie the day he showed up on his doorstep, timid and small.

"I'm f—fine." Her teeth chatter as she speaks. Where is this girl's mother? Where are her guardians?

"You need to call someone? I got a couple o'quarters, I think."

She shakes her head. Wayne frowns. Something ain't sitting right with him.

"You waiting on your ma?"

To his horror, her face crumples, and she buries her face in her arms. He's out of the truck like a shot, rushing over to find her shoulders heaving.

"Now, now—" He's panicking, admittedly. She can't be much younger than Eddie is.

"She—She—" the girl sobs. "She kicked me out and I—I don't have anywhere to go and it's so cold and wet and—and—"

A bout of rage washes over him. He pushes it down, tugging his jacket off and draping it over her shoulders. It doesn't have a hood, but it's dry. Christ, she must be soaked to the bone.

"Listen," Wayne starts, hesitating almost immediately. It's an insane suggestion from a strange man; he doesn't want to scare her off, but he doesn't want her spending the night in this phonebox, either. "I got a kid about your age. My Eddie. You come to mine and we can get you sorted out, okay? Or—Or I can find you a motel room, or something."

Sniffling, the girl looks up at him, wrapping herself up in his jacket. "Is that... is that okay?"

His heart breaks. "Yeah. Yeah, 'course."

She stands, wobbly, still clutching her backpack. She's soaked through like he'd thought, and she shivers once she's in the front seat. He's quick to turn the heating up, starting the truck again, and for a moment he's furious: her immediate agreement, the lack of hesitation about getting into a vehicle with a strange man, makes him boil with hatred towards this girl's mother.

The journey's quiet and, thankfully, not too long. Wayne ushers her into the trailer, already preparing to make a steaming mug of hot chocolate. Eddie's out at Jeff's for band practice, so he says, but Wayne knows him well enough to know he'll come home stinking of weed.

The girl stands awkwardly in the living room, still shivering. It occurs to him, suddenly, that he doesn't even know her name.

Still. An issue for later. He focuses on the hot chocolate. Once it's ready, he hands it over to her, and doesn't miss how eagerly she accepts it.

Only then does he broach the subject. "What's your name, miss?"

She's quiet a moment, cradling the mug in her hands. "It's Robin. Uh, Robin, sir."

"None of that 'sir' business," he says gruffly. "Name's Wayne. Eddie'll be home later but you can have his bed if you need a place to stay for the night."

This might be the most he's spoken in years, trying desperately to come across as reassuring. It breaks his heart how trusting she's being, though.

"Thank you." Robin goes quiet, her fingers curling around the handle of the mug. "I, um, I can pay you back for the ride—"

He waves a hand, frowning. "None of that. I'd like to think if it were my Ed in your shoes, someone would be there for him like this."

She manages a small smile. She's still in her soaking clothes. He hustles over to Eddie's room, raiding the drawers for whatever looks most comfortable. Eddie won't complain, he knows.

Robin gratefully accepts the clothes. He goes back into Eddie's room to give her privacy, unsure exactly how long to wait. There's that stereotype that women take forever to change, right? It must hold some truth.

He gives it an hour, just to be safe. When he emerges, he finds that she's curled up on the couch, out like a light. His jacket's pulled up to her chin like a blanket.

Waif in need alarm. He sighs. Bev's right after all. He won't be surprised if this situation resolves with him having another kid in his care.

Well, Eddie always wanted a sister, anyway.

#wayne adopts robin au #stranger things #wayne munson #robin buckley #eddie munson #my writing #st ficlet #st fic #this ran away from me so unbelievably badly #my wips

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wynnyfryd · 6 months

Text

Trailer park Steve AU pt 56

part 1 | part 55 | ao3

March

"Steve, honey," Claudia calls from the living room, where he can hear her shuffling around to get her things ready for work — the rustle of a jacket, the clink of keys against her thermos. "Do you need anything before you go?"

"I'm fine, Ma!" Steve answers.

And he is. He is fine. It’s been three weeks, and Steve is fine! He has a date tonight with a girl he doesn’t care about, and he's gonna cheer on Lucas at the championship game, and the other day at work he got a fifty cent per hour raise. And sure, his nightmares are worse than ever and his head aches all the time, and he’s had some weirdly persistent sinus infection or some shit going on, but he only teared up once this week while jerking off to thoughts of Eddie, so.

All in all, not bad.

He shoves a plain bagel in his mouth and rushes to leave the house; passes Claudia on the way out, who's now rapping her knuckles impatiently against Dustin’s door and asking, “Dusty, what’s going on in there? You’re gonna be late!" to which Dustin replies with a panicked shriek: “DON’T COME IN, I’M NAKED!”

Jesus Christ. "Deafen my other ear, why don't you?" Steve mutters under his breath.

He throws Ma a parting wave and heads out to pick up Robin so he can take her to school before his shift starts. She looks nicer than usual, and she won’t stop reapplying her mascara, and by the time Object of My Desire starts playing on the radio Steve is practically begging her to just suck it up and end this will-they-won’t-they thing with Vickie because it’s been months of obvious flirting and Robin still won’t make a move.

“I listen to you, and now look at me!” he argues, as if the handful of pointless dates he’s used to distract himself from Eddie are anything to look at. “Boom. Back in business.“

“Mm,” she objects, a little ‘you’re so full of shit’ frown on her face. “Not the same thing.”

Don’t say it, you bitch, don’t even—

“You ask out a girl and she says no…”

Oh, thank fuck. Steve sags in relief and licks the corner of his mouth as he listens to her rant, grateful that she’s just working the small town homophobia angle and very graciously not pointing out how half-hearted and sad his attempts to move on with his life have been. It’s a small mercy he repays by rambling about girls and boobies and girls who definitely like boobies until she scowls so hard at him that she smudges her mascara and has to apply another coat.

—

Dustin calls the store some time around lunch. Asks if Steve wants to sub in for Lucas at tonight’s Hellfire campaign, which, first of all, fuck you — he’s been helping Lucas practice for months now, he’s not about to miss this game — and secondly:

“What, to hang out with you and Eddie the Freak Munson?” he asks, idly playing with a slinky. “Uh, yeah. I’ll pass.”

"Dude."

"What?"

"You can’t just call him names because you’re pissed at him! That’s not cool!”

Steve rolls his eyes and tugs the slinky so hard it flops off the counter’s edge.

“Look,” Dustin says, his voice dipping into that low and slow and trustworthy thing that makes Steve want to snap the kid’s non-existent collarbones. “I know you won’t tell me what happened, but whatever it was, he’s sorry, okay? He’s really, really sorry. And he asks me about you, like, every day; if I didn’t know any better I’d swear he was in love with you or something.” Steve chokes on his own spit, and Dustin just keeps going; steps right over Steve’s corpse to continue his impassioned plea. “Besides, friends forgive each other! Right, Steve?”

Goddammit. Steve really regrets saying those exact words in that exact order the last time Lucas and Dustin had a fight. “Man, you can’t just use my own brotherly advice against me.”

“I can, and I will.” Wow. What a little shit. “Seriously, dude, come on! How many times do I have to pass on his apology messages before you just talk to him?”

How many times? How many times?

Steve doesn’t know.

He just knows he’s not ready; knows that as soon as he talks to Eddie, it’ll make it all real. It’ll be over for good. Whatever words they exchange next will get etched into the headstone of the thing they briefly had. He opens his mouth to say something, to try and make sense of the vortex in his head, but all he gets for the effort is a fresh migraine coming on.

He’s saved from answering by the doorbell’s chime. “I got some customers,” he says over Dustin's squawk of protest. “Gotta call you back, bye.”

—

part 57

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #my writing #my fic

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steddieas-shegoes · 7 months

Text

someday soon

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is having hope for the future'

rated t | 1,237 words | cw: ptsd, injury recovery, negative view of self (Steve) | tags: angst with a happy ending, getting together, hurt/comfort, falling in love

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

Steve ignored his bat bites for too long.

That's what all the doctors and nurses said when he'd been rushed into the ER by Robin, panicked when he passed out and woke up with very little memory of what they'd done that day.

She assumed it was the concussions catching up to him, but it turned out to be a hell of an infection. The infection had spread from the worst bite on his side to his hip and down his leg. They caught it in time to save the leg, but it would be weak for months, if not years, and he'd need to do physical therapy to keep the muscle dense enough to walk.

Everyone was pissed at him, but mostly just happy he was finally getting taken care of. That was a difficult thing for him.

Eddie joked that it was his turn to keep him company in the hospital now, but Steve wasn't up for jokes. Not when he'd become such a burden. Not when he was pulling attention from things and people that actually needed it. He was using up resources that were already barely available for people much worse off than him.

When he was finally fever-free, showing signs of improvement, and promising to keep taking the antibiotics for two more weeks, he was set free. Eddie and Robin brought him to Eddie's trailer to ensure he would actually take care of himself, and he didn't have the heart to argue with either of them.

He felt ridiculous, every single time he got stuck on the couch because his leg was too numb to stand, every time Wayne would grab whatever thing he couldn't quite reach from the top shelf of the cabinet because he couldn't stand on both of his tip toes, whenever Eddie would half-carry him to the shower and wait by the door in case he fell on his bad days. It was all so stupid. He was stupid.

He spent his days doing what he was supposed to, but only the bare minimum. He did the exercises, but only alone in Eddie's room while he was busy at work or picking up Steve's slack. He took the meds when he was in pain instead of "suffering in silence" like Robin told him to. He packed Wayne's lunches for work as a thank you for letting him stay even though Wayne always insisted he didn't need to do anything to deserve a roof over his head and people to care.

He ignored the stupid churning in his stomach that started when he thought about what would happen when Eddie brought him back to his empty house. He ignored the butterflies every time Eddie got home while he was faking sleep on the couch and covered him with the blanket that was by his feet. He ignored the way his heart fluttered every time Eddie would make him the tea he secretly liked instead of the coffee he normally forced himself to drink.

He pretended that the love that grew in his chest was made up, that Eddie was only doing what any friend would do.

Steve only let his imagination run away with him on the nights when Eddie was at Hellfire late, when he was curled up in Eddie's bed at Eddie's insistence that he sleep there. He let himself picture a future like this: waiting up for Eddie to get home from work or a show, curled up with a pillow that smelled like him against his chest, wearing a t-shirt that had holes from being worn too much, and the mixtape Eddie made for Steve playing low in the background.

It was a perfect future.

He fell asleep to the thought of Eddie's arms around him, holding him because he wanted to, not because he had to.

He woke up to Eddie's arms around him, the dark and silent room around him making him panic until Eddie's grip tightened and he pulled him closer.

"You awake?" Eddie whispered against the top of his head.

"Yeah." Steve didn't pull away, couldn't make himself even though the alarms were going off in his brain telling him to put space between them before Eddie realized what this meant to him. "When'd you get back?"

"Hour ago maybe. Didn't mean to run so late, sorry," Eddie's fingers were tracing patterns up and down his spine.

"It's okay. You can do whatever you want," Steve let himself have this moment. He nudged his face further into Eddie's shirt, smiling at the warmth of his chest. "You sleep at all yet?"

"No, I was busy."

Steve's brows furrowed in confusion. "Doing what?"

"Watching you."

Steve turned his head so he was looking up at him. "Watching me sleep? Why the hell were you doing that?"

He should probably sound more upset, maybe more concerned about being watched while he was unconscious. But a pretty big part of him was fine with it, wanted it, hoped it meant more to Eddie too.

"The corner of your mouth twitches a lot in your sleep, did you know that? And when you're in pain or having a nightmare, it stops. Sometimes I just watch to make sure you're sleeping okay," he answered simply. "Been at least a few nights since you've had any nightmares right?"

Steve nodded, speechless at the fact that Eddie had noticed something like that.

"You curl the blanket in your hand when you sleep, too. Or my shirt. Sometimes your own shirt if you can't find anything else," Eddie continued.

Steve felt his fingers loosen in Eddie's shirt, not having noticed the way they'd been holding on for dear life this entire time.

Eddie's hand covered his, squeezing something that felt like reassurance and love right into his skin.

"You're not the same Steve you used to be, but you still worry about what people think. You can just be you. Just be Steve. I promise the Steve you are is the Steve we love," Eddie smiled down at him.

"I-" Steve took a breath. "I just don't wanna ruin it all."

"Stevie, sweetheart." Eddie shook his head. "You couldn't ruin it. When are you gonna get it through that thick head of yours that we're all stickin' this out with you?"

"But you don't have to."

"No, we don't." Eddie squeezed his hand again. "But we do. And we will."

"Even if I'm always like this?"

"Like what?"

"Recovering. Having nightmares. Scared. Robin says I might be depressed? I'm probably gonna limp forever."

"Stevie, look at me," Eddie said, tilting his face back towards him. Steve hadn't even realized he'd turned away so much. "I love you. Okay?"

"You do?"

"Do you think I notice what other people's lips do when they're sleeping?"

Steve snorted. "No, I guess not."

"I love you and sometimes that might mean I have to deal with your shit, but I want to, okay? It won't always be this much shit. I can hold your hand through it," Eddie smiled. "Now, you should go back to sleep."

"You didn't kiss me yet," Steve said around a yawn.

"We've got plenty of time for it, sweetheart. Go to sleep."

Steve believed him.

He knew it would still be shit. He knew he wouldn't always believe what Eddie said. He knew he'd still feel like a burden.

But they had time to wade through it together.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddielovemonth #love is having hope for the future #angst with a happy ending #established relationship #hurt/comfort #injury recovery #ptsd

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pinkanonwrites · 2 years

Text

Over 4 Miles Away

That’s how far away a crocodile can smell blood! Unfortunate for you, having a pretty rough time of the month and a bothersome crocodile fae as a close friend. Can’t he take it easy on you for once?

Sebek X Reader Period fic! AFAB Reader, they/them pronouns, period comfort, minor scolding (it is Sebek, after all)

1,700+ Words

"Human!"

You weren't sure if Sebek had been calling for you for a while or not, as the general chatter of passing time made it hard to hear even his booming voice over the crowd. But the frantic intensity with which he grabbed you sure made it seem like he had been. Like a flash, he wrenched you away from the doorway to your Magical Analysis class, leading you down into a nook in an adjacent hall even as the bell rang and students began to frantically shove into their respective classrooms.

"What the hell, Sebek! You can't just yank me around whenever you want." You snapped as you rolled your sore arm in its socket. Usually you'd be a bit more lenient to Sebek and his general antics. But not today. Today you were not in the mood.

Apparently, neither was he.

"I expected better of you, human! Do you truly think so little of us, your fellow classmates, that we would not think to consider your state of health? Personally, I find myself rather offended by your perception of us!"

"What are you even talking about?! And stop yelling!"

"Your injury! You would really choose to hide an injury from your fellow students?"

"...Sebek. I am not injured. What even gave you that idea?"

He scoffed, tilting his head away from you and crossing his arms in a huff. "And now you lie to my face? I certainly know better, human. You've smelled of blood since the moment you stepped foot onto campus."

"Blood? But I'm not-?" Your words ground to a halt, a painful twang in your stomach reminding you of why you were just so irritated in the first place.

"Frankly I'm surprised no one mentioned it to you earlier. It should be painfully obvious to every Beastman on campus."

Oh.

"Many of the fae as well. Those with acute senses at least."

Oh god no.

"Regardless, as your classmate and friend I felt it my duty to express my disappointment in… H-Human? Are you… crying?"

"No!" You were, but just a little. Tears of frustration and humiliation pricked at the corners of your eyes. You were tired, you felt like shit, everything hurt, and apparently half the school already knew about it without your permission. "I'm not injured, you stupid jackass! I'm on my period!"

"...Oh. Oh!" You could watch the realization bloom on Sebek's face in real time, eyebrows crawling up his face and cheeks blooming red as his expression twisted from distaste and disappointment into some type of embarrassment… or maybe horror? "So- So you are not injured then! That is good!"

"But apparently the whole school knows what time of the month it is!"

"N-Not the whole school! Just the Beastmen. Half the school, at most."

"And the fae!"

"Only some of the fae! Those with enhanced senses, such as myself and Lord Malleus!... And Master Lilia, as well."

Sebek's placations and panicked flailing did little to quell your mood. You just let out a short, pathetic wail before burying your face into your cupped hands, leaving him no choice but to hover awkwardly around you as you spiraled. You barely even processed his rather un-Sebek like ‘uh’s and ‘um’s and stammering, so lost were you in your own humiliation. God, and the day had only barely just begun. You just wanted to roll back into your shabby bed at Ramshackle and sleep until it didn’t feel like your stomach was trying to rip itself out anymore.

But just when you had internally decided to start pulling it back together in time for class, you felt a tense, stern hand rest itself on your shoulder.

“Your current state is not conducive to any proper education!” Sebek barked, clearly attempting to stifle his own fluster although his face was redder than a beet. “Allow me to escort you back to your dormitory.”

“Sebek.” You sniffled, rubbing your cheek hard with the heel of your palm. “I can’t. I still need the notes for this class, and I have to get Grim, and-”

“I will speak with Jack Howl this afternoon and procure a set of acceptable notes!” He insisted, leading you by the shoulder as he began to gently but insistently push you down the hall. “As for your monster companion, leave it to myself to make sure he is suitably disciplined for the day! You have my word.”

Were you simply too caught off guard by his unexpected change in demeanor, or too exhausted to argue? You couldn’t quite say. But it wasn’t until you were nearly to the doors of Ramshackle that you tried to raise an objection again. “You don’t have to do all this, you know. Not that I don’t appreciate it! Cause I really do. I just mean…” You sighed. You could try tiptoeing around what you were trying to ask, but there was really no sense in it. Sebek is the type of guy who is best talked to in clear and direct questions and statements anyway. “You don’t usually go out of your way like this for anyone but Malleus. Why now?”

He didn’t answer right away, instead steering you into the house and letting himself in behind you. He pushed you all the way to the base of the steps before letting you go and budging past you towards the kitchen. “Make yourself comfortable! I shall return shortly!”

“Sebek, what are you-?” Aaaand he’s gone. A tiny voice in the back of your brain chided you for letting yourself be steered around so easily, but it was quickly drowned out by the agonized screams of your aching muscles begging for bedrest. You slumped up the stairs to your room, trading your uniform for an unrecognizable band t-shirt you’d gotten from Floyd and a pair of oversized, hot pink sweatpants Cater had pawned off on you from the last care package he’d gotten from his sisters. You couldn’t even attempt to hold in the relieved groan as you let yourself flop limply onto your mattress, springs creaking dangerously beneath you. You heard your phone ping a few times on your nightstand, but couldn’t quite muster up the energy to roll over and reach for it.

You weren’t quite sure how long you’d chosen to lie face down on your bed, but it had been long enough to hear Sebek’s heavy steps ascend the staircase and stop outside your bedroom door.

“You do not have any chocolate.”

“...What?” You lifted up your head to see Sebek standing in your doorway with a silver tray (was that in your kitchen somewhere? You certainly didn’t recognize it.) loaded with what appeared to be a large cup of tea and a bottle of honey, as well as a small bottle of painkillers.

“I was under the impression chocolate was a necessity. No matter, I will acquire you some this afternoon.” As you rolled to make yourself more comfortable Sebek approached, placing the tray on your nightstand next to your phone.

“You don’t have to! I mean, this is more than enough. I didn’t even know I had tea.”

“It’s abysmal quality, but it shall suffice for today. You may take two of these,” He tapped the lid of the painkillers. “But then you must wait six hours before taking more.”

“Oh! Uh, thanks. I will.”

He watched, steely-eyed, as you shook two pills out of the bottle and downed them with a mouthful of sweet, floral tea. Even as you cradled the warm teacup in two hands he stood stiffly, hands folded behind his back, fidgeting slightly whenever he accidentally met your gaze.

“You never answered me before, you know.”

He jolted, eyes shooting to focus on a point on the wall past you where the wallpaper had begun to peel.

“I’m just curious, you know? Why would you go to all this trouble for me?”

“I… I recognize that I acted quite rashly this morning. In my concern for your well-being I failed to take into account any other possible causes, and in doing so had caused you great distress.” In between sentences you could see him worrying his lower lip with his sharp teeth, still refusing to make eye contact with you. “In assisting you I hoped you would consider my actions an adequate apology.”

“That’s… That’s so sweet Sebek. Thank you.” You wondered if you could pass off the heat you were feeling from your face all the way down into the pit of your stomach as a simple warming effect from the tea. Either way, it was a wholly welcome sensation.

“You are a… A very strange human. Despite better efforts I always- what I mean to say is- I can’t help but seem to find myself… Endeared. To you.”

“Aww, Sebek, does that mean you care about me?”

You expected his usual explosive demeanor as a response, an overwhelming burst of words and energy. What you didn’t expect was for his shoulders to slide up towards his ears, face reddening further as he glared at the wall like he was trying to set it on fire.

“Oh.”

“If you would excuse me then, Prefect!” he barked suddenly, erupting into a flurry of flustered movement as he unloaded the tray onto your nightstand in a few panicked motions. “There is more tea downstairs, I will return shortly after making a trip to the school store! If you would please-”

“Sebek.”

You latched his sleeve in between two fingers, keeping him from fully escaping you, and you could see him visibly gulp. You tugged him closer, gesturing for him to lean down to you, and when he did you planted a soft kiss upon his burning, pink cheek.

“Thank you Sebek. If it’s worth anything, I‘m pretty endeared to you too. Despite better efforts.”

As he pulled away you saw his straight-set scowl curl upwards into a wobbly grin that he failed to hide completely, bringing a fist up to his mouth to cover it with a faux cough.

“Do not think I will allow you to make a habit of missing class! Simply consider this an extenuating circumstance.”

You laughed, slumping comfortably into bed. “You got me, I’m just buttering you up so you'll let me slack off all day… That was sarcasm, by the way.”

“I am perfectly aware of what sarcasm is!”

“Really? Could have fooled me.”

“Prefect!”

#disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #disney twst #twst x reader #twst imagines #sebek zigvolt #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek zigvolt imagines #my writing

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wolffwish · 2 years

Text

Clandestine Meetings

REQUEST: “Hey!!! Could you possibly do a fic with Christian teasing Toto about a new relationship, maybe with an employee, then protective Toto caring for reader when she panics because she thinks everyone knows?!! Thank you!!! 💗💗💗💗”

Summary: Rumours start circulating around the paddock about the relationship between you and Toto, until he reaches breaking point and jumps at your defence.

Warnings: Toto x Assistant!reader, workplace drama, arguing between TPs. Soft/protective/caring Lewis Hamilton x reader. Mentions of past relationship/confrontation. Christian Horner 🫥.

A/N: Kinda thinking this could be a part one… with a very different sort of part two 😏 ps thought you’d all enjoy the bonus of Lewis being featured!

You and Toto had been seeing each other for around 3 months, sneaking around the paddock and keeping your relationship as quiet as you could— purely because you didn’t want anything or anyone to ruin it.

What you had was perfect, a professional work relationship that never got in the way of your personal one, and vice versa. You could feel yourself falling for him big time, but with people starting to question the way you look at each other and the timings of your supposed ‘meetings’, people started to talk.

The Head of the FIA had arranged a meeting regarding an ongoing PR crisis amongst the teams, with all the team principals slowly making their way into the FIA hub at the first race of the season in Bahrain.

As normal, you escorted Toto to the meeting to see him off. This wasn’t uncommon, as all the other TP’s also had their assistants with them, including Christian.

“I see you’ve bought your sheep with you?” you heard come from behind you. You turned around to see Christian smirking, with his assistant whacking him across the stomach as if to say ‘shut up’. Toto turned around with you, daggers for eyes as he looked down on Christian. His tall frame causing a shadow over him and his assistant, jaw clenching through anger and fist tightening around his paddock pass.

“Just ignore him…” you say, grabbing Toto’s wrist, urging him to continue walking. “He’s not worth the aggro.”

Christian chuckled. “Run along now, Toto. Don’t want to be getting into trouble, do yo…”

“What did you call her?” - Toto scowled, yanking his wrist out of your clasped hand and swallowing heard, making his throat swell. Eyes locked onto Christian’s, and if looks could kill…

“Oh dear. Guenther! Looks as though Toto got out the wrong side of her bed this morning.”

“Say one more word and I’ll make sure it’s your last.” Toto commanded, his face getting redder by the second.

“Toto come on…” you sighed, “please, let’s just go. The meeting is starting soon.”

“You go ahead…” he said, flicking his eyes from Christian to you. His face softening as he saw your panicking eyes. Confrontation is one of your biggest fears thanks to your last relationship, and he knew that. “Hey, don’t worry, ok? I’ll deal with it.”

You didn’t want to take your eyes off him, but neither could you stay and watch. You’d seen him get this angry before, but only once. That one time you’d opened up about your previous relationship and how you were treated was enough to make Toto see red and start a war.

You nodded, forced a half smile at him and walked away. Past Toto, past Christian and his assistant, and passed Lewis Hamilton— who was making his was to an engineering meeting. The further you were getting away from Toto, the more your heart was pounding at the thought of an argument starting over what you were trying to keep a secret.

You’d entered the Mercedes motorhome and felt Lewis grabbed you by the shoulder. “Hey, hey…” he said, his voice just a brush louder than a whisper. “Where’s that smile gone?”

As soon as you locked eyes with him, you lost it. Every emotion started running through you as you felt your past memories tarnish every fibre of your being. Lewis had no idea about you and Toto, nobody did. Atleast that’s what you thought.

“Hey, hey… it’s okay, don’t cry. Come on, whatever it is, we’ll fix it.” he says, his arm wrapping around your shoulder and gently caressing it. “What’s happened?”

Through tears and a shaky breath, you somehow, in one single breath, mastered the words “Christian.. he knows, I don’t know how but he knows about me and Toto and we tried to keep it a secret but it just I don’t know he just said something to Toto and oh god it’s going to ruin it and I can’t be—“

“Woah woah, slow down. Take a step back. Breathe. Let’s do it together. In… and out. In… and out.” You copy Lewis’ actions as he calms you. “Come on, let’s get you somewhere more private.” He ushered you up the stairs and into the room that he knew led to Toto’s office.

“I’m sorry Lewis,” you said through tears and a few sniffles. “You have a meeting you need to attend… go. I’ll be fine.” Your eyes looked around the room, trying to find a jacket as you’d gotten the cold shivers and shakes from being so worked up. You saw Toto’s jacket hanging on the coat stand, which made the tears start streaming again.

“Come here…” said Lewis, as he grabbed Toto’s jacket and popped it over your shoulders. “I’m sure he won’t mind, will he?” The corner of his mouth turning into a playful smirk and he softly pinched your cheek to try and make you laugh. “I can’t blame him…” he says, “You are beautiful… even all red faced and crying.”

You laugh and roll your eyes… “Ok, now you’re definitely lying.” As you wipe your tears away with Toto’s sleeve, you hear heavy footsteps up the stairs. The door swung open, and the room stood still as Toto stood in the doorway— one hand still on the handle as he entered.

“Has anybody seen— oh god, there you are. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Toto claimed, walking his way over to you. “It’s ok, shhh sh sh, you’re ok, come on, deep breaths Schatzi, like we’ve done before. Deep breaths.”

As Toto wrapped his arms around you, your head buried in his chest and his head wresting on your chin, you heard him whisper “thank you” to Lewis, who slowly shut the door behind him as he exited the room.

“Come on baby, I’m here now. It’s ok, I’ve got you.”

“Why does he hate me so much?” you say, still locked in Toto’s arms. “What happened in the meeting? Did you even talk to anyone? I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to—“

“Hey, hey, no, we’re not doing that. We’re not getting worked up again, are we?” Toto shakes his head as he softly strokes your hair with his entire hand wresting on the back of your head. “We’re not worrying about anything else, ok? Plus… he won’t be saying anything else about you ever again. That’s a promise.”

You pulled away from his arms and looked up at him, still teary eyed and sniffling. “What did you say to him?” you said, frowning because you didn’t know what was going to come next.

“I just told him the truth… nobody picks on my girl, and if they do… I’m gonna come after them.”

Your face turned from sad to shocked in an instant. “Toto, you told them about us?! I thought we were keeping it a—“

“No no, I know. But it was going to come out eventually. Besides, I want everyone to know who I go home to every night.” He brings his hands up and places them on both your cheeks, and plants a soft kiss on your lips. “I want them to know how fucking lucky I am, baby.” He softly kisses you again, this time gently sliding his tongue in. “I want them to know that this…” he runs his hands down your neck and over your collar bones, “…is all… mine.” He kisses your neck, and you can feel yourself smiling again.

“Toto, you’re the only one that can make me go from sad to— whatever this feeling is— in a millisecond.” You tip your head back and close your eyes as he runs his lips down your neck and to your collar bone. “I know baby… I just want to make you feel better…” he says, his hands making his way down your buttoned up Mercedes shirt. “I better lock the door.”

#toto wolff #toto wolff fic #toto wolff x reader #soft toto for once #soft toto wolff #toto wolff fluff #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 #toto wolff fanfic

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ch0k3herwithaseaview · 6 months

Text

@jegulus-microfic | march 25 eyeliner | words: 819

tw: child abuse, blood, mentions of violence in the past

James was going mad, and it was all Walburga’s doing.

It all started when Regulus finally got out of this horrible imitation of a home. The boy was barely past his sixteenth birthday at the time; when he fell out of the Potters' fireplace, Regulus looked even worse than Sirius did the night he ran away. The older brother has been beaten up badly but could manage to stand on his own; on the other hand, the night the younger brother got out, he was fighting for a breath like a man drowning; his whole face was swollen and covered in blood.

When Regulus appeared in their living room, only James and Sirius were home. At the sight of him, they both panicked to the point where they forgot how to think. All Sirius could do was turn Regulus onto his back and hold his head so the younger boy wouldn’t choke on his own blood while crying and begging anyone who would listen to keep his baby brother alive. At the same time, James was running around the house, looking for something—anything—to help his best friend’s brother.

Thankfully, Effie and Monty arrived only a few minutes after Regulus, and as soon as they processed what was happening, they took all three boys to St. Mungo’s.

Not even a week later, Regulus looked like nothing had ever happened to him. At first, all he did around the house was eat, sleep, and argue with Sirius, but as time passed, the arguments turned into talks and helping each other. James didn’t have to ask to know the Black Brothers were trying to fix their relationship; he saw it in the way Sirius talked about Reggie and how he started bringing the younger boy with them on nights out and letting him into his own world. The change was noticeable in Regulus, too; he opened up a little, spent time with James’ parents, and started trying out muggle stuff like records, Polaroid, or cigarettes. Maybe James didn’t know him well, but he understood that those little things were important both for Sirius and Regulus.

In the first half of August, when Regulus was at their house for a little over a month, James found him sitting on a bench in their backyard. He was reading ‘Crime and Punishment’ Effie gave him, while James’ own copy waited to be read under his arm.

“Do you like it?” the Gryffindor asked, taking a seat next to Regulus.

The boy raised his head slowly, evidently reading the last few words on that page. When their eyes met, James literally lost his mind. Not only that, he also lost his ability to hear, feel, and think—everything except for seeing—because right there in front of him sat the boy he always found beautiful, yet at that moment James couldn’t come up with anything as mesmerising as Regulus’ silvery eyes outlined with heavy black. This mix must’ve outshined the star Regulus was named after. James felt like he could fly just by looking into those eyes; he started thinking of a son-

“Potter? Are you quite alright?” A gentle hand on his shoulder pulled James out of his haze. He blinked once, twice, and a third time for good measure before he closed his mouth (When did I even open them?), swallowed thickly, and mumbled something unintelligible. It was Regulus’ time to blink. After a second, the boy burst out into a loud laugh. “Oh god, Potter, come on! It’s just a little bit of eyeliner; Sirius wears it all the time!” Reg kept laughing, still holding James’ shoulder.

“Yeah,” the older boy managed to spit out when the other started calming down. “But he doesn’t look half as good as you do.” Regulus froze, the grin on his face turning into a sheepish little smile, a pretty pink creeping up his pale cheeks. “Oh,” James started, wondering why he’d said that. “I—I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable; I’m so, so very sorry, I—"

“That’s alright, James. I’m-“ The younger boy cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair nervously. “I’m glad you like it,” he finished, biting his lower lip and still smiling a bit.

James, whose smile was normally big and bright, smiled shyly at Regulus.

“Do you mind if I-?” he pointed at his book. The younger Black looked over at him and shook his head slightly.

“Not at all; we can discuss the story later, if you’d like?” It came out as a question more than a statement, so James nodded once and started reading from where he finished last night.

The silence surrounding them was comforting—just a little buzz of bugs flying around and wind rustling leaves on an apple tree a bit ahead of them. Surrounded by all of it and still slightly nervous from earlier, neither of them noticed the glances they were stealing at each other.

#jegulus #dead gay wizards #starchaser #james potter #james x regulus #regulus black #jegulus microfic #marauders #the marauders #walburga's a+ parenting #angst/comfort #by: allyeardepression #hogwarts au #fluff #hurt/comfort

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shunshunrika · 1 year

Text

Blue Lock boys with their pregnant partner!

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, aged! up characters, mentions of s*x

✿•˖*ISAGI YOICHI

Is probably the one most mentally prepared for it. He hadn't planned it or anything but accepts it as blessing in disguise. Makes sure he is attentive and composed when you first show him the pregnancy test in a panicked state. Tells you he wants to cherish your little treasure. Probably wants a baby boy. A fat one he can cuddle to death. Kind of an overprotective husband who makes sure you are safe and taken care of round the clock. Would take the pain to cook for you daily and pick up 90% of the household chores voluntarily so you can enjoy more time with the baby in your belly. Loves hugging your tummy to feel the kicks.

✿•˖*RIN ITOSHI

Is a bit confused at first. Panics a bit wondering why the contraceptives didn't work but doesn't show it. He takes a few minutes to think about it and finally shows you how happy he is. Starts shopping early for the baby to come. Buys all pink stuff because he's dead sure it's a girl. You scold him for stereotyping gender and tell him your baby girl, if it is a girl, will wear neon green. Will probably get his football team to make a mini version of his jersey just for your little one to wear when they are born. Most likely to take you out in the wee hours to satisfy your crazy cravings.

✿•˖*SAE ITOSHI

Doesn't react at first. When you start getting pissed, he tells you he knew before you even noticed because unlike you, he isn't stupid. (Also, he remembers your period cycle by heart and notices your mood more than you think he does) Tells you to give it a thought financially and emotionally as he doesn't want to bring a baby into this world just to mess it up further. Once both of you are sure about it, he becomes a doting daddy and husband. Very much into silent gestures like leaving sticky notes for your baby on your tummy before he leaves for his morning workout, doing grocery shopping and lifting the heavy stuff and makes sure to kiss your forehead and your belly before he leaves for tournaments.

✿•˖*RYUSEI SHIDOU

Is extremely excited. For the fact that he successfully impregnated you and passed on his genes. You bonk him on the head and yell at him for half an hour for being an idiot. He finally comes to his senses and is actually pretty nervous about being a dad. Wants a girl because he hates boys. Wants to make her a footballer, the best one in the world, after him. Makes you listen to all sorts of jank-ass music and vivid films so that the baby will be born with his taste in media. Wants the baby to have your looks though so no one will dare to bully them by calling them an insect. Goes above and beyond to make sure you have a comfortable pregnancy and ends up being more of a parent to you than your baby.

✿•˖*SEISHIRO NAGI

Experiences a change in personality and lifestyle when he hears a mini-him or a mini-you is about to come into this world. Starts moving his arse around the house more. Stocks up on baby formula 6 months in advance. Tastes it and regrets it. Starts planning the next five years of the baby's life too. He wants the kid to be active and social and do everything, unlike how he was raised. Wants to be a hands-on parent. Takes a lot of notes and advice from Reo. Diligently attends baby-prep classes and makes sure you are attending them punctually too. At night though, he sleeps with his head on your belly, wanting nothing more than to protect the two most important people in his life.

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock imagines #blue lock headcanons #fanfiction #drabbles #smut #angst #fluff #nagi seishiro #rin itoshi #sae itoshi #shidou ryusei #isagi yoichi

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op-sys-chaos · 1 month

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DPxDC Danny and Jason Prompt

Phantom and Robin knew each other in the Infinite Realms. A newly dead Robin had helped the young Ghost King in a fight when a group of ghosts had tried to kill him. (Danny hadn’t done anything wrong in their eyes per se, they just wanted a fully dead king so they tried to beat him up enough for him to switch back so they could kill him.) Robin had jumped in to help, and the two 15 year olds had become fast friends.

For the 6 months that Jason was dead, the two explored the realms. Danny was often gone living his life, but when he had the time the two would explore the realms together. But eventually, in the middle of a conversation, Jason vanished, having been resurrected.

Being king, Danny sensed it and shrugged. They had barely told each other anything about their personal lives but Jason knew that Danny Phantom was a half a who protected a small town in the middle of nowhere that was shielded from the outside world by a curse and Danny knew that Jason was a superhero named Robin, sidekick of another hero called Batman, and worked in a big city called Gotham. (Dealer’s choice if Lady Gotham occasionally joined the two for tea during this time or if she doesn’t exist.)

The next five years, the two have no contact. They’re off doing their own thing. But then the GIW captures Danny and, being government, takes him to their main base in DC. They get him there, and begin vivisecting him.

The vivisection is interrupted by the Fentons breaking down the door, insisting that their little boy be given back (he was taken as a human after a transformation back after a rough fight happened in front of the GIW agents). When they see Phantom, though, they drop their weapons and ask to join the vivisection, even if only as observers. “If we can watch the vivisection, and you hand us back our son safe and sound afterwards, we’ll pretend this never happened,” they say. The GIW sees their chance and agrees, fully intending to break the deal. The vivisection continues.

But because two heavily armed crazy people broke into a government base, someone’s noticed. Wonder Woman saw the pair enter the building from the sky and asked Batman to research the place. He comes back a few hours later with horrifying results about who the organization is and what they’re up to. Wonder Woman starts tearing the place down with her bare hands.

In the chaos and confusion, the GIW agents and the Fentons go off to stop what they assume is an evil ghost. Danny takes the chance and, with a whole lot of effort and a little luck that the GIW was stupid enough to leave a “free the guy on the table” button in the room, he escapes. (Tiny balls of ice flicked at a button at a high velocity are apparently enough to press it. It just took him a minute to be accurate, especially since his powers were barely working at all.)

With nowhere to go, Danny decides to run to the only place besides Amity that he’s ever heard of.

Gotham City.

Holding his insides together with his hands, Danny flies out of the building and manages to find a map (probably from a friendly tourist that’s too used to seeing weird shit bc it’s the DC universe) that tells him where he is and how to get to Gotham. He reaches it in an hour. And promptly collapses on a rooftop. Turns out, flying hundreds of miles immediately after a vivisection while holding your insides together is exhausting.

He’s laying there when a few Bat people come upon him. They start panicking; who’s the glowing dude holding his insides together with his arms while passed out on a rooftop?

Moments later, more batfamily members join them. All are confused, until Red Hood grapples in, takes one look at the guy on the ground, and says “Phantom?”

Everyone looks at Jason, but he’s staring at the guy on the ground. He rushes forward and his knees buckle as he kneels next to Phantom. “Phantom!” Jason exclaims, giving him the gentlest of shakes so as not to disturb his injuries while still waking him up.

Phantom cracks an eye open. He sees the man in front of him and, despite the very different outfit and the face-covering helmet, whispers “Robin?”

From here, the fic goes into Danny healing from his wounds, Jason and Danny revealing how they know each other, Jason and Danny freaking out the Justice League because they straight up didn’t tell anyone that Danny’s the ghost king but Constantine recognizes the king and has a mental breakdown about it, and maybe even some Jason/Danny slowburn!

#I’m either writing this or begging you to send me your version #honestly I’m probably writing this #but if you want to too go for it!!

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ashetherando · 10 months

Text

“…I Love you…” FizzOzzie x Idol! Reader

Warning: death, angst, and blood

pronouns: They/Them/Theirs

3rd Pov

It was the last morning of your Tour before you can spend your December and half of January home with your lovers Fizzarolli, a jester that recently quite from Mammons crazy ass self, it’s completely understandable when you had your first show at the Mammon stage! And Asmodeus, the King of Lust and a very big rooster that everyone is aware of both Fizz and Ozzie’s relationship, but you never told anyone about your relationship or never told anyone about your personal life at all. You opened the door to the Kitchen to see them eating their breakfast, you grab a cup and start making yourself a cup of coffee “so, (Y/N) last day, am I right!” Fizz perks up with a smile “yup! Freedom for two and a half months!” You sat down across from them “so, what ring is this taken place?” Ozzie asked and took a big bite of his fried eggs “Greed. Greed, NotaScam too be exact” you take a swig of your coffee “ahhh, I heard a lot of bad things there. You better be careful” “don’t be, Fizzy-Frog. Guards will be there to take to and from, and you’ll be there, right, Fizzy?” “Yurp!” He finishes his plate and place in the dishwasher and left the room to get ready for the day. You sit down in the limo next to Fizz “do you have to bring the Queves?” You asked him as at least 15 of them sit on your lap and in between the two of you “yes, yes I do!” You scratch one of the nearest queve next to you behind its ears. As the car drive slowly turns Bluish-Purple to green, you send out a tweet on Wrathier saying how excited you are with this show. You drove passed the dome your concert is taken place, little people in the regular line and so much people in the VIP line “holy shit, (Y/N) that’s a lot of people to meet you” “yeah, holy fuck!” You start to feel uneasy, Fizz saw your expression change from happy to nervous and held your hand “don’t worry, babes. I’m here if anything happens!” He pecks you on the cheek and the limo parks in the back of the building, next to the exit, you open the door and left, then the family of Queves left and Fizz zooms across you and into the building. You found your dressing/warmup and gotten comfortable with it, your manager throws you around from helping the VIP merch table and warmup and so on and so forth. The VIP doors open and a wave of people comes it, people crowding the merch table and people getting into the front of the pit and since there’s so much people, you have to talk and take pictures with the barriers, so you won’t be grabbed, touched, or something bad happening to you. You sing a sneak peek of your next song as an acoustic and waved them goodbye as you left into your dressing room with Fizz as he held you close. Until Fizz got hungry “honey, I’m gonna pick up some food near the building, love you!” He pecks you and speeds off and you entered your room.

45 minutes later, you finished up warming up your voice and instrument warmups. The door knocked, Fizz is back! “I’m coming!” You opened the door, it wasn’t Fizz, it was someone with a grey hoodie with so many stains and pit sweat stains with the hood up along with really baggy pants, he had a bouquet of Chrysanthemums “hello, (y/n) (l/n), how is your boyfriends in the lust ring?” You were stunned and you panicked internally ‘how did he know? Did you get drunk and brag about it on your Instagram live? How the hell did he-!’ All the memories you shared with FizzOzzie, from the first Christmas and winter together, dates, and when you fall asleep together one time when you were sick and they both got sick, when you felt a puncture on your chest and sharp pain worse than any anxiety attack feeling, “DOES THAT HURT? I WAS HURT WORSE! You went and get knocked up but two sleeze-bags even though you’re an idol, You fan-betraying slut! You lured us in with your constant “I love you! I love you!” Crap! It was all lies!” blood fell spread from costume to the ground, you pushed away and held where the wound is at,all the members stood up and comes to your aid, while the crazy mysterious imp runs away “(y/n)! I’m back!” Fizz comes back with the food held high “the line was so long I was considering going back to lust for foo-!” He blinks when he saw you on the ground fighting for your life “(y/n)…(Y/N)!” He drops the bags and runs towards you and quick calls Ozzie “Ozzie! OZZIE! SOMETHING HAPPENED TO (Y/N)!” Tears fell “DO SOMETHING, RANDOM ASS BAND MEMBER!” “It’s Bob” “I DONT CARE!DO SOMETHING!” Fizz yells at him and Bob ran out “(y/n)! Please stay with me, it’ll be okay! Just stay with me!” He held you close to him as other members went separately to help in any way, from hunting down to that crazy fan, announcing to the fans that something happened and it is been cancelled and keep an eye on the stalker and apologize to the inconvenience and also calling the ambulance and police. It doesn’t take long when your heart beat slowly dying down and slowly getting heavier “fizz…” “sh!sh! Safe your strength, (y/n) don’t leave me! We have to spend this Christmas together! Please!” You held up your bloody hand and placed it on his cheek “I’m sorry. This is probably…it for me. You’re not hurt, are you fizz? I wonder…what you both be in the future be…As the two of you love each other when I’m gone… I want to be there to see it.” Tears start to swell up and Fizz shook his head in denial of you dying “no, no, (y/n)! Don’t say that!” “Ozzie…Fizz…I love you. Those words definitely weren’t a lie” you smiled when your heart stop and let your hand drop “(y/n)! (Y/n)! Wake up! Please!” He dropped his phone when Ozzie was on the phone. “Fizzy? (N/n)! Pick up, please!” “(Y/n)!” The paramedics came in and took you, leaving Fizz on the ground crying his eyes out and not picking up the phone while Ozzie is freaking out.

youtube

#x reader insert #asmodeus x reader helluva boss #fizzarolli x reader #helluva boss x reader #helluva boss #Youtube #oshi no ko

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