#i spent so so much of my life in pain or sick

[lilislegacy]

I love the idea of Percy becoming a marine veterinarian. Not because it would be easy, but because it wouldn’t be easy.

It would sound great and all, until he gets to vet school. And day 1 all he can think is “what the hell was I thinking?” This is all science. And most of vet school is about mammals, especially dogs, and he has to take specialty programs on the side for sea animals. He likes dogs and cats, and it is interesting, but that’s not why he’s here. Annabeth tells him to just learn as much as he can. So he does his best. He gets tutoring on the side. He makes good friends, and that helps a lot, but everyone there seems so much smarter than him. But annabeth and his friends help him study. He tries and he tries and he tries. He loves the marine animal programs he does. He thinks it’s so cool learning how sea animals function, and how the ocean/environment affects them. But the standard veterinary school course material is difficult for him to stay focused on. His grades aren’t the best, but he gets through it.

And after 3 years, he gets handed a white coat and stethoscope. And he feels like an imposter. He’s not a doctor! He’s not a healer like children of apollo. He’s not a genius like children of athena. He’s percy. This feels wrong. It feels good, and he’s proud of himself, but it also feels wrong.

Then his first day of residency, at a marine animal clinic, he is walking through his little orientation with the fellow residents and the attending vets. The first room they bring him into has a large water tub with a sea turtle in it. It’s not moving. It looks so sick and miserable. The head vet says that they’ve had this turtle for several months and just can’t figure out what’s wrong. She won’t eat, she won’t interact with other animals, she barely opens her eyes. They have decided to put her out of her misery, and tomorrow she will be euthanized. Percy steps away from the group and asks to approach her. He goes up to her, bends down, and put his hand on her shell. He telepathically asks what’s wrong, and she responds “My head. My head hurts so bad all the time. Ever since having my babies. It hurts to swim. It hurts to be in the light. I feel sick always. Please make the pain go away.” And Percy stands up and starts asking the attending vets questions about her history and her treatments. At first he panics because he doesn’t know what to do. But then he realizes… he does know what to do. He leaned this! So he suggests a treatment. Most of the vets in the room laugh or give him a doubtful look, but he begs them to try it anyway. So they do it, and within half an hour, this sweet sea turtle is happily swimming around the tub. She’s popping her head up to say hi. She’s even eating.

The other vets tried for months. No tests showed what was wrong. But Perseus Jackson walked in, spent two minutes staring at her, and cured her. Because he has powers that no one else has. The other vets only know how to read and observe signs, but Percy can listen to their symptoms.

And after that, every second of learning about animal anatomy and physiology was worth it. Because HE just got to save a sea turtle’s life. HIM!!

And that is why Percy Jackson very quickly becomes one of the best marine veterinarians in the field.

[tyttamarzh]

Tallulah is Phil and Missa's daughter.

This will probably be very long, so if you want to read it, go grab some popcorn and get comfortable.

I have to talk about this because it's eating me up inside. I think I shouldn't give so much importance to comments coming from sewers like Twitter and much less Tiktok, but it makes me so sick (and I'm such a masochist that I even spend time looking for the shit they say to make me angrier and debate them xD).

I am very happy that it was finally made official, with papers certified by the federation, that Tallulah is the daughter of Philza and Missa, I think that was not entirely necessary for them, because they had assumed it for a long time (let's assume that Tallulah needed the pappers to end her W arc), although I suppose that more than anything it was done for those people who still cannot accept it or who deny the paternity of Phil and Missa (With Missa, although it bothers me, I can even understand it, he He hasn't been as present and many people don't know him, but god, it would be a crime to deny Tallulah's paternity to Phil, the man who has kept her alive and given everything for her throughout her life).

I'm glad that, although I have seen negative comments, the majority have been positive (even if it hurts them, it doesn't matter, it's official, screw them). Mainly, the negative comments have been from defenders of W and their arguments are so poor and weak that they are easily refuted. It is obvious that these people do not know Tallulah and have never met her, many do not even know how things turned out and say nonsense like that the current Llulah is an imposter, that it is not fair that they "rewrote" history and erased W (which It is false, Llulah's words make it clear that history was never changed, she simply moved on and that person remained in the past).

I refuted all those arguments on Twitter but screw Twitter, I hate the fucking character limit. So I'm going to expand (I have a lot of poison to get out of my skin). I have some points:

1- "That's not Tallulah" Of course it is her, those who witnessed her life and her growth during the year that passed, can realize that this was her natural evolution. She is the same girl who grew up overcoming her limitations, who suffered, who felt alone, who had abandonment problems, who everyone saw as a poor abandoned girl and who found comfort next to someone who has always loved her like a father and a brother who gave everything for her.

2- "They erased all her lore" No. Tallulah's lore is the one she built with Philza and Chayanne over the course of the year they lived together. Her relationship with W and her longing for him was only part of her story (although people made a lot of emphasis on that), but it was not the only thing that defined her, it never was and only people who never got to met her think that. They see her like an extension of that other person, as the only thing that kept him on the server, but did not see her as an individual character and definitely did not watch Phil's Vods and they never really knew her lore.

3-"How do they explain this in the lore?" Simple, there was someone in her life, someone who was her first father, but who spent very little time with her, who left a long time ago and who is currently no longer part of her life. She learned to let go of the past and focused in the family she has in the present, the family that loves her, that watched her grow up, that makes her happy and gives her security to believe in herself and that is the Death Family, Chayanne, Philza and Missa. Time passes, not all people stay, treasure those who are by your side and let go of what never brought you anything but pain.

4- "They should have created another egg and replaced her" Why replaceher? It has no sense or reason. She is a character who built her own story with her family, a story that never really involved that other person other than with one or another sporadic mention, why eliminate a character that evolved by itself? Little by little she separated herself from what she was at the beginning and that bond that she had with that first father was practically non-existent. What would be the point of eliminating it or replace her with another new character?

5- "No matter what other parents and appearance give her, she will always belong to W because she still carries the name he gave her" No. She never belonged to him. She lived with that man for 2 days and apart from leaving him the promise of a reunion, she did not contribute anything else to her life. She formed her own path, her passion for music was not because of him, it was something she already had before, her love for nature, for animals, everything was built in the days she lived with Philza (even with uncle Bad). She suffered for her first father but she moved on, she matured, she discovered her link with death and her powers as a medium, she acquired her own personality and little by little she built the Tallulah she is now.

She never belonged to anyone but herself and she always fought to prove that, but people insisted on dumping trauma on her and reminding her that she was an abandoned child waiting for someone who at a certain point was nothing more than an idealized dream, because There was never a real relationship between them, they never lived together long enough. She little by little made her decisions and chose the people she wanted to be her parents (and it's not that she had few options, Quackity, Bad and even F wanted to adopt her at the time and asked them to, but she was not a girl who was looking for parents). She could choose and she chose Philza, the person who had always been there for her and later she chose Missa, someone who despite not knowing her very well gave her his love unconditionally and gave her security when she needed it. Then she was able to feel the warmth of being part of a complete family.

6- "They should change her name because W gave her that name! That impostor is not Tallulah!" Why? Her name is not anyone's intellectual property, at the time it was given to her, it belonged to her for better or worse and yes, in some way it will always be a tie to her past, but a past she has already left behind and managed to overcome by creating new memories and dreams.

To a certain extent I understand those who became attached to her because she reminded them of that other person, but if they couldn't see her as her own character, it means that they never cared enough to make the effort to get to know her.

It would shock us all if a character we liked suddenly changed drastically and left behind what like us in the first place. But if they had really watched her, they would have realized that the change was not sudden, it was gradual.

She found in Phil a protective and understanding father who always put her and her brother before anything else, who suffered with her her pain and outbursts of frustration due to the depression caused by the absence of her first father. She found in Missa a cute and loving father who always showers her with love and helps her to have confidence in herself. She doesn't lack anything with them. She has closed a cycle of pain in her life and now she can heal.

She chose the look that makes her feel finally free to be herself, whatever the external reasons that led to that, she finally has a future ahead of her unbound by the past and prefers to be more like the people she considers her family now. If you can't see what all of this really meant to Tallulah and her evolution, it's because you never cared to see even 20% of her story. Well, since the middle of last year she began her journey to break away from a name and be herself, fighting to be seen for who she was.

If those people decide to continue supporting someone despite his shit, that is their right, but the server and the admin were also within their right to decide to kick him out and want to distance themselves from a person they consider unpleasant.

7-There were comments of another type, mainly from people who are really very lost with the lore, people who consider her the daughter of Quackity, even confusing her with Tilín (saying that Q didn't know if she was the daughter of W or Luzu and that she should get a DNA test), when we all know that from the beginning she was W's daughter as a single father and that the only reason Quackity could have become Tallulah's father was if to marry W, but that never happened, W didn't come back and Quackity was never able to develop that relationship with Llulah, she considered him a possible father because she knew W loved him, but Q always being kidnapped or something, they never really related much. There are people who, even with a certificate, continue to insist that Tallulah should have been given to Quackity to raise with Luzu (she had a tender interaction with Luzu and people were already asking him to adopt her, saying that she was alone and had no parents, I seriously hate them!) I shouldn't take seriously people who obviously haven't seen Philza even once and I know that many of those people are hispanic and are limited by the language barrier but if they don't have the slightest idea They shouldn't give their opinion… Tallulah is not an object to be passed from hand to hand, she chose and in order to do so she had to go through a very long and painful arc.

8- I firmly believe that it is a great win to now have a certificate that endorses who the people she considers her parents are, but I insist, it was not necessary, because that has been known for a long time and I am sure that if it was created it was to close the mouth mouth to all those people who are not capable of accepting that.

Tallulah is the daughter of Philza and Missa (and no one else), she is part of the Death Family, that is her story, it is not a whim, a whim is continuing to link her to something she is no longer a part of or wanting to make her a part of a lore that never happened or wanting to give her other parents different from the ones she grew up with (Quackity already had Tilín, Richas and now Pepito, I don't think she needs more children and Tallulah doesn't need any more shitty drama in her life).

Tallulah is a beautiful being, both with her old look and with the new and as Missa says "She deserves only the beautiful things in the world"

Tallulah is Phil and Missa's daughter!!! Tallulah is Phil and Missa's daughter!!! Tallulah is Phil and Missa's daughter!!! And I can shout it a thousand times because it's true and she always was, but now it's certified by the government and no amount of complaining or tantrums can change that fact.

Sorry for my bad english. See you!! jajaja ando re agresiva, pero es que nadie se mete con mi familia xD

[thatsonemorbidcorvid]

“Every year, about 25,000 (UK) women who give birth — approximately 4 per cent — are so distressed that they meet the diagnostic criteria for post-traumatic stress disorder. That makes birth one of the biggest causes of PTSD in the UK according to the Birth Trauma Association charity – probably coming second only to sexual abuse and rape. Hundreds of thousands more women are traumatised. This is a major health crisis. And yet it is barely discussed…

According to figures from NHS Resolution, the arm of the Department of Health and Social Care that handles litigation, 62 per cent of the total clinical negligence cost of harm in 2022-23 (£6.6 billion) related to maternity.”

When my husband and I left for hospital on a Friday afternoon, we had no idea what would happen. The next few hours would change my life. For good and bad. It had all started with a cervical sweep the day before. I was 40 weeks and 4 days pregnant and, frankly, I’d had enough. My pregnancy had been uncomplicated in terms of my baby — she was healthy throughout, albeit had spent much of her time in the back-to-back position. But I had found the nine months increasingly difficult. From around 20 weeks I’d suffered from pelvic girdle pain, which, for me, meant increasingly agonising pain in my lower back. Walking and other everyday movements became difficult. The only place I felt vaguely comfortable was in water. Swimming was a relief.

Women are offered a sweep to help induce labour. A midwife inserts their finger and sweeps around your cervix. It’s about as basic as you can get. They’re trying to separate the membranes of the amniotic sac that surround the baby from your cervix. This then releases hormones, which may help start your labour. “Some women find the procedure uncomfortable or painful,” NHS guidelines say. I found it excruciating.

“Oh,” the midwife said, as I lay in a rather compromised position. “I might have broken your waters.” This didn’t make sense to me. I’d always assumed that when my waters broke, I’d know about it. Apparently not always, and I was instructed to call the hospital if contractions hadn’t begun within 24 hours as I was now potentially at risk of infection.

They didn’t start. And I did what I’d been asked. The voice on the phone was chirpy — everything sounded fine, stay at home, we’ll be seeing you soon enough. Half an hour later, my phone rang. “Where are you? You’re meant to be at the hospital,” the woman said angrily. I needed to come in immediately to be examined.

It was late Friday afternoon and it was busy. We took the last of the beds in maternity triage. And my waters broke in earnest. That solved the mystery, I suggested. No, I was told, and the water birth I’d hoped for was out of the question — too risky.

Strong and regular contractions started immediately. We were moved to a glorified cupboard that had been turned into a makeshift holding room. I was denied any pain relief because it was “too early”, and told that someone would bring me some paracetamol when they came to “examine” me.

It seems obvious when you think about it, but I had never been told what being “examined” meant. Nor thought about it. It sounds medical. But it’s literally a midwife sticking their fingers inside you. I was 3cm dilated. Plenty of time to go, apparently. It was 9.30pm. I felt sick and in enormous pain. Both were dismissed — until I vomited everywhere. And lost control of my bowels. This would happen several more times over the coming hours. I felt utterly ashamed. Again, it’s common — but I hadn’t been told.

I continued to ask for pain relief and continued to receive none. An hour later, I was 7cm dilated — in full labour — and finally received some paracetamol. There was no space on the labour ward. In just another half an hour, I was fully dilated and ready for the baby to come out. No one seemed to know what to do. The midwives were panicking. And that made me scared. This was my first baby. I didn’t know what to expect. We were rushed to the ward. Already, nothing had gone the way I wanted, or the way it had been talked about at National Childbirth Trust (NCT) classes. Eventually, I was given gas and air to ease the pain. But only for about 20 minutes. Apparently it was “distracting” me too much and I needed to push.

Two hours later there was still no baby and I was in agony. A doctor arrived, took a brief look and said cheerily, “You’re going to be fine. You’re going to get that baby out.” And then he left. My maternity notes state, “PLAN: continue pushing.” I have no idea what this refers to — like so many of my notes. There was no plan. If there was, it wasn’t one I had agreed to. Finally, after another hour the decision was made that the doctor would use a ventouse — a suction cup that sits on your baby’s head — to help deliver my baby. Apparently I consented to this, but I have no recollection of doing so. And I’m ashamed to say I didn’t know what was being asked of me. My doctor didn’t use the word ventouse. He used “Kiwi”, which is a type of ventouse. At the time, I didn’t know what either were.

I remember screaming in pain and then my daughter finally being born. She was placed on my chest for less than a minute. I was examined, told I had a fourth-degree tear that must be repaired and that I needed to sign a consent form for surgery straight away. “Look at the state of her,” my usually mild-mannered husband said. “How can she possibly sign a form?” I couldn’t. The writing on that form is barely legible, but they would not proceed without it.

I had no idea what had happened. I lay in an operating theatre in pain, silent tears rolling down my face. I was frightened. The anaesthetist was amazing and stayed with me while I was repaired. I am so grateful for that, at least. But I also feel guilty about it. It was half past three on a Saturday morning and she was the only anaesthetist on duty at the London hospital. Other women may well not have received the pain relief they needed because of me. “Will I be able to have any more children?” I asked as I stared at the ceiling.

After surgery I was moved to the high dependency unit (HDU) and reunited with my daughter. I finally held and fed her for the first time. That morning is a blur. My notes tell me we stayed in the HDU for five hours before being moved to a ward. It was there that I attempted to understand what had happened to me. I was in pain, barely able to move and soaked in blood. I asked various midwives to explain what had gone on. They repeated that I’d had a fourth-degree tear, but I didn’t know what that meant. One line, in scribbled handwriting, stands out when I look at my notes: “We don’t have any written info about fourth-degree tears.”

Eventually, a midwife appeared with some information they’d printed off after googling it. As I read it, I sobbed. I was 35 years old and thought my life was over; that I would be incontinent. And still no doctor came to explain. The medic who’d delivered my daughter was eventually marched to my bedside more than 48 hours later.

I am perhaps unusual in that I’ve always wanted children. We had done what many middle-class suburban couples did at that time and attended NCT classes. The underlying message of these was: try to avoid a caesarean section at all costs. “Natural” births were best, and even better just to breathe through it. No need for pain relief. I remember in our penultimate class bringing up the subject of tearing during labour. I had seen a TV feature on it that week and it struck me as important. “If most of us are going to tear to some degree, it would be really helpful to talk about that,” I remember saying. “It would be good to know how best to care for ourselves afterwards, that kind of thing.” The answer was no, there was no need. Instead, we proceeded to get on all fours and “moo” like cows and then practise putting nappies on a doll.

Up to nine in ten first-time mothers who have a vaginal birth will experience some sort of tear. The least invasive kind involves only the skin from the vagina and the perineum — the area between a woman’s vagina and anus. These tears usually heal quickly and without any treatment. Second-degree tears involve the muscle of the perineum and require stitches. Third and fourth-degree tears are the most serious. These involve not just tearing of the skin and muscle of the perineum but the muscle of the anus. In fourth-degree tears, the injury can extend into the lining of the bowel. These deeper tears need proper surgical repair under anaesthetic.

I don’t really have any happy memories of the first few days or weeks after we left the hospital. I was completely in love with my baby, but I felt shellshocked. I couldn’t process what had happened and there was no one who offered to help me. A different midwife was sent to our house every couple of days to weigh our daughter. I had no milk the first few days and she had lost a fair bit of weight. Even when my milk came in, I found breastfeeding painful and difficult, in large part because it hurt so much to sit down.

I cried quietly every day for several months. Often it would come completely out of nowhere. I’d be talking or watching television and I would just start to cry. Several midwives wrote in my notes in those early weeks the same phrase: “Mum is anxious.” I don’t think I was. I was traumatised. Several weeks later, I was told that I was “lucky” by the midwife examining my stitches. Apparently the doctors had done a “wonderful” job at repairing me and it looked “beautiful”. I now know that I was fortunate to be repaired properly and immediately after the birth. But the last thing I felt — then or now — was lucky.

After several months I desperately needed to have some control over my life again. I had never felt so helpless, lost and infantilised. But my overarching feeling was anger. I wrote to the chief executive and chair of the hospital to complain and was invited in for a debrief. The head of midwifery was lovely, apologised and followed through on her promise to try to prevent other women facing the appalling lack of communication I had. The hospital now has a specialist perineal health clinic too.

But the attitude of the consultant obstetrician whom I met with my husband floored us both. It was about six months after the birth, but I was still under the care of a consultant urogynaecologist. (I subsequently had two further operations: the first 14 months after giving birth to remove an undissolved stitch that was causing pain but hadn’t been spotted, and another six months after that.) My urogynaecologist had told me not even to consider giving birth vaginally again. The risk was too great, he explained. If I tore again, there was a 30 per cent chance I couldn’t be repaired and I’d be incontinent. The obstetrician said the opposite — don’t rule it out! I saw red. “How dare you,” I growled. I remember saying that he would never be so cavalier about a man’s body.

Every year, about 25,000 women who give birth — approximately 4 per cent — are so distressed that they meet the diagnostic criteria for post-traumatic stress disorder. That makes birth one of the biggest causes of PTSD in the UK according to the Birth Trauma Association charity – probably coming second only to sexual abuse and rape. Hundreds of thousands more women are traumatised. This is a major health crisis. And yet it is barely discussed.

“Birth trauma is a broad term, but generally it’s overwhelming distress that leads to a detrimental impact on well-being,” explains Susan Ayers, professor of maternal and child health at City University in London. Estimates “range massively”, she says, but having conducted research into birth trauma for almost 30 years, Ayers puts it at about a third. “If you ask women whether they thought they or their baby was going to die or be severely injured, then it’s around 19-20 [per cent] in the UK. But if people just ask women, ‘Was your birth traumatic?’ some of those estimates are up to 50 per cent.”

“I’M BEATRICE’S MUM,” EMILY SAID, introducing herself to a committee of MPs in March. “Beatrice died during labour at full term in May 2022.” Emily is one of a number of brave women who have shared their traumatic birth stories with the all-party parliamentary group (APPG) on birth trauma, during the first parliamentary inquiry into this issue.

“As soon as my labour started,” Emily explained, “I knew it wasn’t right, wasn’t normal.” The details are harrowing: a series of obvious but missed red flags and an attitude from medical professionals that can only be described as cruel. The midwife who shrugged her shoulders when Emily’s waters were meconium-stained; the consultant obstetrician who laughed at the “slimy” feel of that meconium while her hand was still inside Emily.

“The ultrasound scanning machine was brought in and showed that Beatrice’s heartbeat had stopped,” she explained. “At that point I begged, pleaded like I’ve never pleaded for anything in my life for a caesarean, and that consultant obstetrician refused. She said no. And she left.”

“It’s destroyed my life,” Emily says now. “I’m not the person I was before.”

This inquiry has been led by the APPG’s co-chairs, the Conservative MP Theo Clarke and Labour’s Rosie Duffield. They received more than 1,200 written submissions after asking women to share their experiences; that number doubles if you count the letters and emails they’ve been sent informally.

“The thing that’s really struck me is there seems to be a taboo around talking about the risk of childbirth,” Clarke tells me when I sit down with both women in Westminster. There shouldn’t be, she adds. “Something we’ve heard from a number of the mothers coming to speak to us is that there’s such a focus on the baby post-delivery, they almost forget there’s a second patient in the room, and that’s the mother.”

“I was constantly told by GPs that I had nothing wrong with me,” one mother, Sarah, told the MPs. She experienced a major tear that doctors and midwives failed to diagnose. “I was discharged two days later with [an] untreated tear, which very quickly led to enormous amounts of pain, incontinence, faecal incontinence and thinking I was going mad.”

“It’s very painful,” explained Jenny, who also experienced a serious tear that was left untreated, “but the long-term consequences of an unrepaired tear are that I had to give up my job. I’ve suffered PTSD, anxiety, depression. My activities are restricted. My life is impacted in that I have to meticulously plan my day around toilets.”

Another mother, Neera, lost three litres of blood and required more than ten hours of life-saving emergency surgery the day her daughter was born. The haemorrhage had not been picked up by staff. She said she is fortunate to have had the “means and support” to access mental healthcare over four and a half years of her five-year-old’s life. “I have personally spent over £6,000 and received more than 50 hours of mental health support,” she told parliament.

The women who have spoken to politicians as part of the inquiry had different medical experiences. But there were obvious similarities. Their concerns and their pain were dismissed. They were not treated with respect or, in some cases, like human beings. They felt helpless, angry and scared. “Nobody really cares about women,” says Kim Thomas, CEO of the Birth Trauma Association. “What we tend to find with most of these stories is there’s failure after failure after failure. Lots of things go physically wrong… and that continues afterwards in the postnatal period with really poor care.” Almost all women seeking out the charity say their experience was made much worse by the way they were treated during labour. “The number of stories we hear of women being shouted at by midwives or laughed at by midwives is quite extraordinary.”

Birth doesn’t have to be this way. And it isn’t for many women. But women, in England in particular, could — and should — be having better experiences than they are.

Let’s start with serious tears. The number one risk factor is being a first-time mum. There’s nothing much that can be done about that. But the next is having an instrumental vaginal delivery — and in particular one that uses forceps. “Data indicates that we use more forceps than other parts of Europe,” says Dr Ranee Thakar, president of the Royal College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists (RCOG). While rates in several European countries hover at around 0 per cent, a 2023 study of assisted births in 13 high-income countries found England used forceps in a higher proportion of births — about 11 per cent — than any other.

There are cases where forceps must be used. When babies are premature, suction would cause too much damage to the head. But that’s doesn’t explain the discrepancy. “It’s education,” Thakar explains. “We should be trained to do both [forceps and ventouse], so that we provide the best care to women and use the right instrument for the right baby and the right mother.”

The risk of a severe tear when forceps are used is at least twice as high as with ventouse: 8-12 per cent compared with 4 per cent. Women should be told this. The recent parliamentary inquiry heard other suggestions that might explain why forceps use in England is so high. The consultant gynaecologist and obstetrician Dr Nitish Raut explained that when poor outcomes of childbirth become part of litigation, the question, “Why were forceps not applied earlier?” will be asked. Although they can cause injury to mothers, forceps are the most effective instrument for getting a baby out. If a doctor tries and fails to deliver a baby with the less invasive ventouse first, a record will be made at the hospital trust. It was suggested by others that this might also be pushing some doctors straight to forceps use even when they might not be necessary.

“Training is a really key part of everything here,” Posy Bidwell, deputy head of midwifery at South Warwickshire Foundation Trust, told MPs. “If we can train people, we can prevent these injuries happening. Many midwifery students wouldn’t know the impact that these injuries are having on women.”

Newly qualified midwives did not know enough about perineal damage, and yet they’re providing one-to-one care to women. Current training did not seem to see it as a priority: while several aspects of maternity care are mandatory each year, suturing and perineal protection are not.

Neither doctors nor midwives appear to be taught how to routinely examine women after they have given birth either. Where this was once part of mandatory medical training, doctors are no longer encouraged to do it, Raut explained.

England is short of as many as 2,500 midwives, the Royal College of Midwives (RCM) estimates, although people are wanting to train and join the profession. Donna Ockenden, who is reviewing maternity services at Nottingham and who previously did so at Shrewsbury and Telford Hospitals NHS Trust, cautions against being too optimistic, however. The focus needs to be on retention. “Two midwives don’t equal two midwives,” she told parliament, “of we are losing midwives with 20, 30, 35 years’ experience… and they’re then being replaced by a more junior workforce, who are not being supported in those early days of their career.”

In the past decade and a half, the UK has seen several NHS maternity scandals — in Morecambe Bay, Shrewsbury and Telford, and East Kent. In all these cases, some of the poor care provided to mothers and their babies was because of a push towards “normal” or “natural” birth and a desire to keep caesarean section rates low. The RCM ended its campaign for “normal births” in 2017, but its legacy persists. Some NHS trusts still talk about them today. A culture of cover-ups and a lack of care remains in others. Just last month, the Care Quality Commission found that staff at Great Western Hospital in Swindon had been downgrading third and fourth-degree tears, “which meant they were not investigated as thoroughly as they should” have been. The c-section target was only officially dropped in 2022. Does RCOG now accept that it was a mistake? “It’s difficult for me to say years later whether it was a mistake or not,” Thakar tells me. “I think there was a general trend at the time to put figures to caesarean section rates. But now we know that, we don’t do that.” It was now right that women were offered a choice; she insists she hasn’t seen an attitude against caesareans more recently.

Aside from any physical and psychological impact, traumatic births are costing the country billions. According to figures from NHS Resolution, the arm of the Department of Health and Social Care that handles litigation, 62 per cent of the total clinical negligence cost of harm in 2022-23 (£6.6 billion) related to maternity. Of the £2.6 billion spent on clinical negligence payments that year, £1.1 billion (41 per cent) related to maternity. (As the fact-checking service Full Fact explains, the cost of harm differs from the amount actually paid out in compensation: the former includes an estimate of claims expected in the future arising from incidents in that financial year.) The year before, maternity services accounted for 60 per cent of the total clinical negligence cost of harm (£13.6 billion). NHS England spends about £3 billion a year on maternity and neonatal services.

There is such a long way to go. The government is well behind on its long-term target of halving the rates of stillbirth and neonatal mortality by 2025; the death of mothers within 42 days of the end of pregnancy is at its highest rate in almost 20 years. And while only a handful of trusts have been subject to official investigations, there are signs that poor care is happening across the country. Only half of maternity units in England are rated good or outstanding; one in ten is inadequate. That is a damning indictment of the way so many women are cared for.

One crucial area of improvement does not cost money at all. It requires a shift in attitude to one where women are treated with respect, listened to and allowed to make informed decisions about their bodies and babies.

When I first heard of parliament’s inquiry into birth trauma, it was never my intention to share my experience. Doing so has been upsetting and uncomfortable. But as I sat listening to other women talk about how giving birth had affected them so profoundly, it felt dishonest to stay quiet. Difficult births are not something we should feel ashamed of — much as I know many women will have been, myself included.

[fella-lovin-fella]

hey if you ever feel like you're faking your pain/mental illness/any symptoms, or if you feel like no one understands or believes you. i do. i believe you. i love you and i hope you do what you can to take care of yourself <3

[venjamin-kingdomhearts]

OKAY I KNKW I NEED TO SHUT UP ABOUT VENTUS BUT 😭

like. like i feel a lot of the kh fandom doesn’t really take him/his trauma seriously, cause compared to vanitas, ventus has a family and friends that love him. and yes, vens not “darkness”, has been told he’s loved and has more than one purpose, but there’s… so much shit he’s felt with. just cause his story has more hope than vanitas’ doesn’t mean he has it easy, and it just. Man. this poor kid.

so like, first off. ventus HAD still been hurt by xehanort, and even if his training was never as rough as vanitas’, ventus had been used by xehanort for at least a while. he lost his memories of it when split from vanitas, but he still ended up remembering all that during BBS. and to top it all off, ventus is suddenly told he’s part of the x-blade. he’s not just some kid, he has a heart of light, but instead of his pure heart being seen as a blessing like the PoH, ventus is told he’s a weapon. eraqus, the man he loves and considers a father, tries to strike him down and to make matters worse, it’s because of this that eraqus dies. you bet your ass terra blames himself for eraqus’ death, and ventus hates himself for putting terra in this situation.

and after all this, ventus goes up to terra and aqua, begging them to sacrifice him to make it so the x-blade won’t be completed. “i’m asking you as a friend- just put an end to me”. they don’t, because they love him, but when facing off against vanitas, ventus is still determined to sacrifice himself. of course it’s the “heroic” thing to do, but after the “put an end to me” scene, AND eraqus’ death… man. ventus must feel like a burden on his family.

then THIS kicks off sora’s journey, and while that’s totally out of ventus’ control, there’s got to be some part of him who blames himself for what happens. if ventus hadn’t run away from the land of departure in BBS, hadn’t fought vanitas, well… things would be better, and sora wouldn’t carry this burden.

and of course, there’s KHuX. sure, ventus was jealous of other kids who had friends, but he wasn’t a bad or rotten kid— he was still a dandelion, right? all he wanted was power, and NOT the power to control anyone or bring harm. he wanted the power to prove he was worth a damn and could protect potential friends, the same way he wants to prove himself in BBS. he’s not some power-hungry, mega ambitious kid. he just wants the strength to protect what matters, just wants to carry his weight so people will like him. he ends up looking past Darkness’ scary exterior and trusting them, too naive to notice the truth.

ventus gets his wish. to be someone important, someone with friends. and this poor kid never meant to harm anyone, didn’t know strelitzia passed, didn’t know Darkness granted his wish with a curse. judging by how ventus never really brings up darkness and doesn’t seem to remember them until the very end of khux, he probably doesn’t even realize he’d asked for this. he just… finally found a purpose. a group of people he belonged with. didn’t realize it came with a price, didn’t realize his innocent wish to be stronger hurt someone he’d never met. ventus would never have wished for this if he knew what would happen.

maybe Darkness would’ve gone to some other kid to ruin their life, maybe Darkness had plotted this and planned to hurt Ventus and strelitzia regardless of what happened. or maybe it all came back to ventus, a young kid who never wanted to hurt anyone, a young kid that only wanted friends.

ventus is a walking bad luck charm. no matter how good he is, how much love he gives away, bad things happen to him, and more importantly, the people he loves. and every time, he feels guilty. every time, he tries to sacrifice himself. every time he’s saved. every time… the pattern repeats.

ventus makes a naive wish: to be stronger, to explore the worlds. he gets that wish, but it comes with a huge cost he never wanted: strelitzia passes, terra and aqua get wrapped up into xehanort’s plot. he tries to end things with a sacrifice: offering himself up to lauriam and fighting off darkness, begging terra and aqua to defeat him so the x-blade can never be forged.

all this to say, i’m very scared of what the future holds for ventus.

[bambikisss]

Protection :: C.San

☀Inspiration: Descendants of the Sun

Pairings: military!San x doctor!reader

📙: You were one of the better doctors in your unit, which often brought your praise and admirers. However, when the military requests for more doctors to be flown out to their base, you were the hospital's first pick. While you're helping people, you meet the base's top solider: Choi San, leader of team ATEEZ.

⚠: This is strictly for entertainment purposes, so there will be inaccurate descriptions of both the military and medical terms. Mentions of violence, use of gun and knives in battle.

💕: Unprotected sex (wrap it up always), Buff Choi San, multiple rounds, mutual masturbation, biting, slight pain kink (san), car sex, shower sex, breeding kink (san)

Bambi's notes: Hello loves! Here is the fic! So, a small little fact is that this is basically San brain rot / smut with some plot. I've fallen back into my ending sucking era, but I liked it and I hope you do too.

🎶: Mamacita - Chase Atlantic, Dangerous Woman - Arianna Grande, Outlaw - ATEEZ, Bouncy - ATEEZ

TAGS: @princessniquane @stolasisyourparent @fullmindlady

@pearltinyy @nomnom2001 @ilyilykaeya @pink-hwaberry

@sannie-pudding @brown88 @shahruladhwaloml @atinytinaa

@wooya1224

NOT PROOFREAD | COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED AND ENCOURAGED

"Doctor L/N? There is someone asking for you in room 322. They don't want to see anyone else but you."

Ah, the top of the medical mountain: you got to take care of the top clients because you were one of the best doctors in the hospital.

You nodded before making your way to the elevator, your shoes squeaking softly against the pristine hospital floors. You had been at this hospital for almost three years and you still were amazed by how clean the janitors got the floors.

You sighed as the elevator doors closed in front of you, your back meeting the cold wall as the numbers slowly rose to take you to the 3rd floor. You chose to enjoy the moment of silence before going back into the loud hustle and bustle that was the hospital.

You had spent years trying to get to this point: the hours of studying, all the tests you had to take- all led you to this life you now lived. While you enjoyed helping people and the rise in pay, you also mourned the death of your social life. So many nights you wanted to spend with your friends, but were all spent in the hospital. It didn't help your dating life either, as you refused to date anyone who worked at the hospital with you to avoid any drama when breaking up. It's not like you weren't chased after; many of the male nurses and staff had been very vocal about their crush on you, their words making their rounds to you, but you never acknowledged that. You were here to work, not flirt with the various men that walked around.

You couldn't help but want someone, though. Someone to come home to and hold you when things became too much. But, that would have to wait.

The elevator doors are opening.

~.~

"It is no problem at all, Mr. Quinn. Please make sure to relax and please listen to the nurses" You offered the rich old man a kind smile before closing the door behind you as you entered the empty hallway. Taking care of the rich always felt like a pain- some thought that they knew better just because they had money, while some were more into "faking being sick to see their favorite doctor."

"Ah, Doctor F/N L/N. Just the women I just looking for."

Your head turned to see your boss approaching you with a kind smile on his old face. He placed a gentle hand onto your white coat covered shoulder before walking with you, leading you to his office without another word. You didn't fight back, though, wanting to know why he was looking for you. Maybe you were getting reprimanded due to you turning down another nurse and making him throw a tantrum. Maybe you were getting another raise.

"Please, close the door behind you" You nodded as the old man made his way around the large oak desk before he sat down in his chair. Your hand slowly left the doorknob as he crossed his arms, the air in the office no longer friendly as you sat down in front of him. Before you could even ask him about what was going on, he cut you off with a simple hand raise. "Miss L/N, you spend too much time here for a woman of your age" You blinked at your boss's words, tilting your head as you tried to process it. Taking in your confused stance, your boss clears his throat before leaning forward on his desk to point to a calendar that sat in the corner, one date circled in red ink. It was this coming Monday.

"I have the director of this hospital coming next Monday, and with your past involvement with the director and her son, I don't think you should be here"

Your eyes narrowed at your boss as you crossed your arms over your chest. How dare he take you off the work schedule because of the director's son and his hurt feelings? Just because you rejected him doesn't mean that you two can't be cordial when interacting. Your boss once again holds up his hand to stop you from speaking, leaning back in his chair as he removes his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose before he spoke. "Y/N, you know how the director gets about you, especially since you made her only son cry when you rejected him. I don't want to risk there being a problem between you and her if she sees you."

"Well, I don't want to not work. I have a reputation to uphold, plus, I don't have anymore pay time off." You watched as your boss, nodded, understanding your words before he sat back up, his back cracking softly as he put back on his glasses. "I understand and I am already looking into things you can do while not being at the hospital. Just...keep your mind open, ok?"

Open minded? You couldn't help but wonder what your boss had planned up his sleeves for you. But, to you, as long as you got work, you were ok with it.

You would be open minded.

~>~

"Is everyone in place for the attack? Everyone needs to be ready when I give my signal"

A static filled response filled San's ear as he held the binoculars to his eyes as he sat perched in the high grass upon a hill. To the average person, this may look creepy, even a bit scary; but to San and his team, this was nothing but child's play.

"San, there seems to be three hostages inside. We need to be careful when we attack" San nodded at HongJoong's words as he laid on his stomach next to San's knee, the older man's brown hair blowing in the cold night wind as his sniper's lenses sat pressed against his eyes. San knew that there would be complications, especially when chasing one of the world's most dangerous criminals. But, in order to keep the rest of the world safe, he knew he had to take risks. San's eyes slightly widened when he noticed the man place down his weapon on a table, giving San a perfect view of the kind of weapon, but that the man was now unarmed. Perfect.

"Mingi, Yunho, and Yeosang, it's time. Make sure that you all stay alert. Once Wooyoung and Jongho shut off those lights, you have my full permission to light the place up. Just get those hostages out first. Then, me and Seonghwa will go after the criminal. Remember: he's dangerous so let us both take care of it, just let him run and go after his goons. Understood?"

San placed his binoculars down as the men agreed before offered HongJoong a nod, letting him know to shoot whenever he saw fit. San's mind was clear as he moved to stand with Seonghwa behind a nearby tree, rolling up his sleeve to see the watch that sat tight on his wrist. Three seconds. Three seconds before they all lit the place up.

Three.

"We are all in positions, San"

Two

"Jongho and I are ready to shut the lights off."

One.

"Now."

The house that sat hidden in the marsh was an old one, but still had new technology wiring, making it easy for both Jongho and Wooyoung to shut it off. As the lights went out inside the house, causing a large shout to be heard, Mingi, Yunho, and Yeosang moved through the murky waters till they reached the door, Mingi's foot kicking the door in before gunfire could be heard. San wasn't worried about the three of them hurting the hostages while going after the goons- all three were skilled in close gunfire and battle. They were the best of the best at their jobs.

Plus, San had other things to worry about.

San placed his black gloved hand onto Seonghwa's shoulder as they moved down the hill, moving around the murky waters to wait behind another nearby tree near the back of the house as shouts and gunfire still blared through the home. Sure enough, the leader soon emerged from the back door, admit on making a escape from the chaos inside.

"Jeremy Phillips?"

The man paused in his tracks as both San and Seonghwa emerged from the tree, their eyes staring darkly at the man. San had to hold back a smirk of his own at Jeremy's shocked face before watching as he pulled out a knife. The blade may not have been long, but it gleamed in the moonlight, still showing that it was dangerous. San wasn't worried though, pulling out his own knife from the pocket of his black combat pants as Seonghwa rushed inside to help the others. He knew that San had it covered and that he wasn't much help, since it would be with a blade.

"You know, I've been chasing you for a long time, Jeremy? You've been avoiding me" San's voice held a slight playful manner in it as he continued to keep his eyes trained on his opponent. San's fist tightened around the handle as Jeremy apologized half-heartedly, stepping forward. San watched each step the man made before he decided that he was close enough.

"So, you're still the leader of ATEEZ, huh? Still the military's golden boy, huh?" San now smirked, nodding at Jeremy's words before saying "Yup. We all can't be bravo members for the enemy."

San's words made Jeremy no longer want to speak, the man's smile fading before he lunged at San's body. While Jeremy was taller than San, he still had his combat training and was confident he could win. San moved back before the blade could meet his body before he kicked Jeremy in the stomach, sending the man flying backwards into the murky water, San's blade soon meeting his thigh. San watched as Jeremy yelled in pain, remembering the words of his commander before they all dispatched to the mission:

"Jeremy Phillips is a dangerous man. You shoot to kill."

San didn't give the man a moment to recover as his hands quickly moved to his other pocket, gripping his gun before firing it.

The night once again returned to it's silence as San returned his gun to his pocket, sighing as a cold breeze moved through the field. He ran a hand through his black hair as Mingi and the others emerged from the house, the hostages all standing close to Seonghwa as they stared at San. If you were to ever ask Mingi what was a scary sight, it would be seeing San right after he's completed a mission: watching his eyes slowly drift back from being dark and cold to full of life.

"San, the helicopter is here. We need to go before his backup gets here"

San nodded as he took one more deep breath, meeting Mingi's worried eyes with a small nod, letting him know that he was alright. Mingi returned the nod before motioning for everyone to follow him as they made their way back up the hill to where the large helicopter sat, Hongjoong, Wooyoung, and Jongho already inside. San gave the others a simple nod as he sat across from Wooyoung, clasping his buckles closed before the large aircraft began to rise, taking them from the once tense and bloody confrontation to the quiet night sky.

San's eyes closed as the helicopter returned everyone to the base, escorting the hostages back to their families with a small smile on his lips. He nodded as one of the hostage's wife's thanked him before jumping to hug her husband tightly. San couldn't help but watch as his smile dropped, his heart tightening at the sight. San wasn't a very easily emotional man, but to see such a sight made him yern for something like that. For someone to hug him whenever he returned him from his missions was a small dream of his, and seeing someone else have that too always made his heart ache. "You know, San, people are bound to get upset if you keep staring at them"

San couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Wooyoung's words, his eyes then narrowing at the hand that was soon placed onto his shoulder by the man. He turned to face him, crossing his arms as Wooyoung continued to have a very happy and proud smile on his lips. "If you want something like that, then I could always help you. I'm sure you could find a few women who are intrested in a tough man like you"

San at first didn't reply to Wooyoung, finding his words ridiculous. But, after a moment, his eyebrow soon returned to rest, his face softening as he realized that his friend was right. He glanced back at the happy couple before he took a deep breath in, puffing up his chest before he began to walk down the corridor, Wooyoung's happy steps following him. He took San's silence to know that he was right and that it was time that his friend finally got a girlfriend.

~>~

"What do you mean you don't have a type, San?! Come on!"

San shrugged once more at Wooyoung's whine, crossing his arms before he rested against the picnic table. The base was outside a very popular town in one of the more desolate areas, which meant lots of heat and sand, which made Fridays cleaning days to remove all of the extra sand and more. Wooyoung had brought out his computer to help San set up a dating profile while he cleaned, but they had already gotten to a roadblock.

Sure, San had dated around for a while, but nothing too crazy. He dated anyone he felt a connection to, but that connection all fizzed out really fast. To say San was a bit disappointed in his dating life was an understatement: he had been on around 8 first dates and hadn't gotten on a second date with any of them.

"How am I supposed to help you find a girlfriend if you don't know what kind of women you like?!'' San rolled his eyes at Wooyoung's complaining, about to complain himself about how stupid this whole dating profile thing was when a distant rumble distracted him. San's attention moved from his friend to the sand road that was Infront of him as three dark green jeeps appeared, driving towards the base. "Woah, early mail day?" Wooyoung asked, moving to stand next to San as the others moved to join San all standing at attention just in case it was a threat, the other soliders on the base doing the same.

"The mail people don't come in green Jeeps, though" San mumbled, watching suspiciously as the three Jeeps came to a stop in front of the group. The windows were deeply tinted, only letting everyone see their reflections.

The doors soon opened, showing the commander exiting the truck. The commander was a tall, yet not bulky man. While he wasn't physically bulky, he could still fight someone. "Ah, good morning everyone"

San raised an eyebrow at his commander, wondering why he wasn't explaining the other Jeeps behind him. He was about to ask when he saw all the doors open, various people leaving the Jeep. San eyed them all as they followed the commander, as if he was inspecting them for any dangers. As the last Jeep's doors open, a woman stepped out, making San pause.

"You know, when I was told I was being sent out on a special mission, I didn't think it'd be to somewhere so freaking hot" You sighed, wiping your forehead as your sneakers touched the warm sand and rocks along the road. The sun was already beating down on you and you were beginning to regret not just staying at the hospital. This is what you get for being open minded.

"Oh come on, Y/N, it's not that bad. I mean, look at those hot soldiers" your eyes turned to F/N, who still had a smile on her face as you both began to walk to meet with the rest of the medic group. You did glance over at the soldiers as you passed them, noticing how some of them were acting like they were starved for woman attention, their eyes bugging out of their heads as you passed them. You shook your head, continuing to walk up the road.

You and the other medics paused as the commander turned to face you all, his dainty hand motioning for someone from the large mass of soliders to come over. "Everyone, this is Captain Choi San from our ATEEZ unit. He's the leader of the special unit, so if you have any problems, just go to him."

Your eyes turned to see the man, your eyes then immediately halting at his appearance. He had black hair, dark eyes, and a strong jaw. San was wearing a simple white tank top that gave you a view of his large chest pecks and his arms too. He also wore the base's sweatpants, giving you a view of his strong thighs. He looked like he was handcrafted: someone had taken their time with him.

F/N noticed your eyes not moving from San, a small smirk falling onto her face before she whispered ''Guess you found a reason to like this place, huh?"

"Shh" Your eyes didn't move from San as you waved off your friend's words. You hoped that he couldn't feel how your eyes were probably burning a hole into him as he placed his hands behind his back, his eyes scanning the group of doctors before he finally landed on you. As you both made eye contact, his body tensed once more before he let his eyes move slowly down your frame, staring at the top of your hair and then slowly moving down your body, taking his time to look at every crevice on your face and body. You carefully bit your bottom lip as you tried to not burst into flames at the sight, making San smirk slightly.

Once the commander finished giving you all a briefing of the base and it's operation, you all were then escorted the building you'd be working in. You were to spend two months here, taking care of the various soldiers. It was like you were back in the hospital, but only smaller and with beefy military men all day instead of rich old CEOs. It was a nice change in your opinion.

Your first task was to do checkups with all of the men, which kept you and the other staff busy all day. Finally, as the hot sun went down, you were on to the last solider.

"I'm here to get checked out." You looked up from your clipboard to see San standing in the entrance of your little section. He was now wearing a simple white t-shirt and jeans, his casual appearance making you smile a bit. While everyone else this whole day came in wearing their uniform, here he was wearing something so casual, separating him from the rest. You waved him in, moving to grab his medical chart as he sat down on the medic bed.

"Ok, so it seems that you're a pretty healthy man, Captain San, so I guess all you need is just a routine vaccination and then you're good to go." You looked up to see San's face, noticing that he tilted his head to the side before he crossed his arms over his chest, his arm muscles doubling in size as he did so. San cleared his throat before he met your eyes, trying to hold back his smile at your slightly confused look. "Doctor F/N, are you willing to perform a physical on me like everyone else? While I am a very healthy man, it wouldn't hurt to get a small checkup."

You nodded softly, placing your clipboard down before you approached San. You had given everyone else a physical, but giving one to San felt different. His eyes were trained on every movement you made, his skin warm as you touched his arm and neck. You tried to not notice it too much, but he was making it so obvious, which made your cheeks heat up a bit.

San let his smirk come through as you touched his chest and his back, nodding as you asked him to breathe in. San liked the way your hands felt on his body, and he couldn't help but crave more from you. "I think it would be easier if my shirt came off. Don't you think so, Doctor F/N?" You paused at San's question, meeting his eyes as you realized how close you and him now were; you now stood in between his legs with one hand on his chest and back, making you hover close to his body. You knew his true intention and for once, you weren't upset about a client making a move on you. Plus, you really wanted to see how he looked without a shirt on.

You nodded before pulling back, letting San take off his shirt before placing it onto the medic bed next to him. San's chest was just as hard as you had thought it was: large pecks, large arms and shoulders, perfect abs, and a his strong V line that went straight into his Calvin Klein boxers and jeans. You had to pry your eyes from San's body as you returned to the physical, the room no longer feeling cold as the connection between you both heated up.

You tried to chat with San while you did the physical, hoping that chatting with him would ease some of the heat between you two, but with his voice and charming remarks, it only added to the connection. You finally finished with his physical and shot, giving him a batman band-aid to make him laugh. You picked up his shirt, handing it back to him as he stood from your med bed, his eyes glimmering as he took it from you. "So, Doctor Y/N, have you seen the snack room yet? I know you told me you're a big fan of Oreos."

"Snack room?" you asked, tilting your head at his words as a smile came onto his face. You were a big fan of Oreos and thought you deserved some since you had to stomach some of the cafeteria food. San smirked, leading you to a small building that was behind the new med building you and the others occupied. It wasn't too big, but it was filled with metal shelves filled with snacks. You made a beeline for the Oreos as San closed the door behind you both, his fingers slickly locking it before he approached you. "So, the way to your heart is with Oreos?" You turned to San as he now stood close at your side, his chest rising and falling at a slight faster pace than earlier. You nodded as he gently took the packet from you, opening the packet with his teeth before he took a cookie out. You watched as he opening the cookie, placing the top one against your bottom lip. "Open."

You nodded, letting San feed you the cookie before your mouth closed around it, chewing as the chocolate flavor filled your mouth. San watched you with now slightly hooded eyes before he held up the rest to your lips, his free hand gently touching your waist. "You know, when I eat Oreos, I eat them all separate like this: I eat the cookie first, lick the icing off, then eat the last cookie."

You then caught on to what he wanted you to do next, slowly licking the icing off the cookie as San watched before accepting the last cookie into your mouth. San hummed as he watched you, whispering a small "good girl." before the hand that was on your waist slowly moved up your body, his body moving with yours to press your back against one of the nearby shelves that were against the wall. He looked down at your lips as he gently touched your neck, his thumb moving to press along the underside of your neck. You looked so hot to him, and he was beginning to feel so dizzy.

"I haven't had an Oreo in a while. Maybe you could let me know how it tastes," San didn't give you a chance to respond as his lips soon met yours. The kiss at first started off slow, like he was testing the waters to see how far you wanted to go. As your hand moved to wrap around the back of his neck, San took it as a sign that you wanted this, so the kiss sped up. San hummed against your lip as your tongue gently moved along his bottom lip, making him grip your thighs before he easily picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He then roughly cleared off a nearby table by moving his arm along the messy table, clearing off all of the many foods before he placed you back down onto the table, the kiss now becoming hot.

San began to move his lips down your neck as you whispered his name, trying to critique him for making a mess, but your mind became mush due to how good his lips and tongue felt along your neck. His hands then slipped under your shirt, pushing up the fabric as his lips then moved up the newly exposed skin. San was so focused on kissing and seeing every part of you, which only added to your arousal. He slowly moved back up to your lips, meeting you in a passionate kiss as his hands moved to remove any remaining clothes on you, haphazardly tossing them in to a pile before your hands did the same to his. San smiled as you began to push down his pants, his hands moving to help you before he pulled back from the kiss.

"You know, we need to do a full on physical," You met San's eyes as he kicked away his pants, his words making you tilt your head. San chuckled at your head tilt, his hands moving slowly along your thighs before he pressed his forehead against yours. San had never been with someone like you and he wanted to savor this moment, yet, he also couldn't help but want to flip you over on the table and just drill his hard cock into you. "Seems like you wanna play doctor, San" You whispered, running your hand through his hair as he slowly pushed down his boxers, his hard cock now slapping against his abs.

San couldn't help but chuckle deeply at your words before he gently cupped your face, making you meet his eyes as he speaks. "That's right, Y/N. Let me play doctor and give you a full inspection with my cock."

You felt your body heat up at his words before San lets go of your face, leaning down to spit on the head of his cock before he moved his hand along his cock, spreading it along his large length before he gripped your thighs, roughly pulling you to the edge of the table. You bit your lip as he moved your legs tightly around his waist, the head of his cock meeting your wet cunt before he slowly pushed in, making you both gasp. San gently tossed his head forward, resting his head on your shoulder as you welcome his cock. "Fuck, baby. You're already so wet, shit." You gripped his biceps as he continued to slowly push in, taking a deep breath at the stretch his cock caused.

"Does anyone know why the snack building door is locked? I wanted a snack, man!"

You and San both tensed and paused at the sound of Yunho outside, complaining about the locked door. You tilted your head back to try and see the door, hoping that he doesn't have some sort of lockpicking skills. San looked up from your shoulder, noticing how your attention was now on on the door and it made him a bit jealous. He saw Yunho every single day, and he can't even give him one moment with you alone? San felt a wave of heat rush over his body before he pressed his hands against your thighs, looking at you as he started to continue pushing into you.

"San- oh my god, fuck" You were about to question him on why he was looking at you like that, but your words left your mind as he resumed filling you with his cock. You tried to mention that Yunho was outside, but San cut you off again with a kiss. He pushed his tongue into the kiss, muffling more of your moans as finally finished filling you. "Yunho does not matter right now. You better not even utter his name right now- right now you should be more worried about taking every inch of my cock like a good girl."

You nodded dazily at San's words, your eyes closing as San slowly pulled out before he began to move his hips. San bit his lip harshly as he moved his hips to meet yours, the slow pace killing him- every time he filled you up, you just felt so good around him that it was physically hurting him to not give it to you harder. His eyes soon moved to your face, watching you as the pleasure moved all over his face before he broke.

San's pace suddenly picked up, snapping his hips into you at a fast pace, the sound of your moans and wetness now echoing around the snack building. He smirked as you dug your nails into his muscles, using him as an anchor as he drilled his cock into you. Just the way you were taking him made him want to cum. He leaned down to kiss your shoulder before he bit it, licking the mark he soon left behind. "Beautiful, now you can look at that tomorrow morning and remember how good it feel with my cock deep in your pussy like this"

"San, please" You whined, pressing a kiss to his lips as you tried to shut him, hoping to stop his dirty words from leaving his lips, but it only made San laugh before he leaned back, making sure your lips can't reach his as he moves faster, making the table move along with you both. "What, baby, don't act like you don't like what I'm saying. I can feel it every single time you tense around my cock" You tossed your head back as San's fingers met your clit, making you clench around his cock. Your nails dug more into his shoulders as you felt your orgsam quickly approaching, making you moan his name louder. San smirked before giving in to kiss you, silencing you so Yunho couldn't hear as you came all over his cock and him filling you up with his cum. You wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him in the kiss as you both came hard.

You soon pulled back from the kiss as your thighs shook, your eyes now closed as you rested against San's body, his own body shaking and feeling hot as he gently rubbed your body and pressed kisses to your shoulder. However, you both were reminded about the situation you both were in when Yunho could be heard outside saying "Maybe Jongho has the key?"

"Looks like our moment is over" San chuckled, slowly pulling out of you before he picked up a napkin, cleaning you and him up before he helped you get dressed. Once you both were appropriate, he smiled at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead. You sighed at his touch before you heard some crinkling, San's body leaving yours. You opened your eyes as the door to the snack room closed, leaving you alone in the building. You sighed, feeling it was a dream. Was it a sick daydream your mind conjured up about the Captain? You turned to check your reflection in the mirror of the room when you notice a packet of Oreos once more on the table right next to you, a small smiley face drawn on it. You smiled as you realized that San left that for you, instantly picking it up before leaving the building right as Yunho and Jongho made their way over, a small smile on your face.

~>~

"Y/N, do you know where the emergency needles are?"

You shook your head at F/N, watching as she dug through the many bins of medical gear you all had brought from the hospital. You and the others had been here for only a month and you had already ran out of everything. "There's talk about a mission the ATEEZ team are going on soon. We need more of everything before then so that way if something happens, we can help them."

"Let me go talk to the commander and see what I can do" you placed a gentle hand on F/N's shoulder before you went outside, walking to the large dark green tent the commander had. You were a bit nervous as you didn't really talk to the commander, only hearing him yell and scream at various solders, which made you keep your distance. But, you didn't have a choice today.

"Excuse me, Commander Lewis?" You smiled as you entered his tent, watching as he looked up from his paperwork. You waited till the commander offered you a small nod before you continued speaking as the other soilders you had seen talk to him do that. "Sir, me and the other medics are running out of medical supplies and we need to get more."

"I can take her into the city if you'd like," Your eyebrows furrowed as San spoke, making you turn around. San was wearing a navy blue t-shirt and his combat pants, his signature smile painted on his face. Before you could respond, the Commander tossed him the keys to a Jeep, letting you know that your words no longer mattered in the issue. You offered San a kind smile before you exited the tent, San following close behind.

"So, how have you been, Doctor? Still enjoying Oreos?" You turned to gently shove San before getting into the passenger seat of the Jeep, your cheeks heating up at his words. You hadn't been trying to avoid San since the night you and him both shared a while ago: he had been busy preparing for the mission and a whole squad got sick so you had to deal with that. You had seen him around, but you always ended up deciding to not go talk to him. A part of you thought it was a one night stand kind of situation, a different part of you wanted there to be more.

The car ride to the nearby city was quiet, dark shades covering San's eyes as he drove. You would often glance over at him, enjoying how he looked as he drove: one arm on the steering wheel, the other one resting on the side. He looked so cool.

"You didn't answer my question, Y/N" You jumped a bit a San's sudden question, turning to him to ask what he meant. You also silently hoped that he didn't ask anything while you were daydreaming. San smiled softly before he asked "What have you been up to since our night together? I heard a squad got sick and all, but what have you been up to besides that?"

"Oh besides that?" You turned to look back out the window as he drove, thinking back to the past couple of weeks. "Nothing, really. When I'm not working, I'm couped up in my quarters"

San nodded, understanding what you meant as he was the same way. "I heard you're going back home soon, too. Two months went by pretty fast, huh?" You paused as you hear a twinge of disappointment in his voice, making you turn back to look at him. But, before you could respond, San announced that you both had arrived in the city. You nodded, looking out at the many buildings and the beautiful stone road that was ahead.

After you both gather the rest of the supplies you and the other doctors needed, you and San begin the long car ride back to the base. You had favored the idea of looking outside, not wanting to break the silence. However, San had other plans.

"Why are we pulling over?" You turned to San as he pulled over, shutting the car off before he turned to you. He removed his shades from his eyes before he let his eyes roam your body. He hadn't seen you in so long and he knew that if he didn't address the underlying tension between you both, then there was chance he would never see it again when you went back. Your next words were cut off by San's lips meeting yours, his hand moving to cup your cheek. The kiss instantly became heated as you both moved your lips together, both of your eyes closing. The kiss felt just as good as last time, if not better.

San slowly moved his hand down your cheek to the seatbelt, smirking against your lips as he slowly removes it. "I missed you, Y/N"

"I missed you too, San" you whispered against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck as he began to lift you from the passenger seat onto his lap. He gently kissed down your neck as his hands slowly pushed up your top before he pushed his hand into your pants, his fingers meeting your wetness, making you mewl. "So wet, baby. And all I've done is just kiss you"

You sighed against his lips as he slowly pushed in a finger, his free hand moving to place one of your hands onto the button of pants, letting you know what he wanted. He placed gentle kisses along your neck and jaw as you struggled to unbutton his pants, the position in the car not giving either one of you very much room. San grunted before he pushed down your shorts, his hands then moving to help you with his pants. Your body was already too hot, your fingers now absently running along your wet cunt the same way San had.

San's eyes darken as he watches you, licking his lips as he pushes down his pants as much as he could, wrapping his hand around his already hard length as he matches your pace. You had never done something like this, but San made you feel bold. San looked at you like he was desperate for you and wanted all of you, his eyes giving you confidence. "Why don't you push a finger into that wet pussy, baby? Let me show you how I want you to touch yourself when we're separated"

You nodded, doing as San said, his lips meeting your neck once more as his hand moved along his length faster. San relished in the way you were moaning into his ear, making his cock twitch in his hand. San pulled back from your neck to see your face as you added another finger, now basically riding your fingers. You looked like the most beautiful thing he had seen and wanted this moment engraved in his mind. He cursed softly before swatting your hand away, helping you move to straddle his cock before he slowly pushed you down onto him. You gasped at the familiar stretch, your walls clamping down on him as he roughly smacked your ass, gripping the flesh immediately afterwards.

"Bounce on me just like you had done on your fingers a few seconds ago" San kept one hand gripping your ass, the other now gripping your hip as he helped you rise him. He licked along your neck before biting down on your sweet spot as you began to ride him, being careful to not hit your head. Once you both had found a comfortable angle, you began to let loose and move faster, making you both moan loudly. San kept his hands on you, moving them all over you continued to ride him. He knew he wouldn't stop till you were a mess; if you weren't a mess the first time, then he would make you continue you till you were a mess all over cock.

So after your first three orgsams on his cock, San could tell you were still thinking too much for his liking.

"San, please calm down, fuck!" You gripped the center console as San thrusted into you from behind you, his hand moving to grip your hair as he fucked you. He went from having you ride him to having you bent over the center console, shirt pushed up with bite marks from him all over your back and shoulders. San chuckled at your words, leaning down to whisper in your ear his hips continued their punishing pace. "Hm, you still know how to speak? Guess we need to keep going till you forget everything other than my name."

You had lost count of how many times he made you cum when you both returned to the base, your legs feeling like jelly as you handed your coworkers the medical equipment. You tried hard to walk normally as you walked back to your quarters, breathing heavily from the hours of intimacy with San.

"Stop worrying about your walk, Y/N. It was fine." You turned to see San now leaning in your room doorway, a smile on his lips as he closed the door an approached you. You crossed your arms as he wrapped his arms around you, placing a kiss to your forehead. You felt your body relax at the feeling, sighing before you pressed your cheek against his chest, letting your body rest against his. San smiled before whispering "here, let me help you shower and then get ready for bed."

You nodded, allowing San to help you get into the shower before he followed. Even though you both were bare under the hot water, it felt calm between you both. You felt your feelings for San begin to bubble in your chest as he helped wash you, humming a random song as he did so. "So, I hear there's a mission for you and the others coming up..." Your words trailed off as he took his time helping you wash your hair, his fingers massaging your scalp carefully. He nodded, looking down at you with a small smile. You looked so relaxed, your eyes closed as he took his time with you. He leaned down to press a small kiss to your lips, enjoying the soft moment with you as his own feelings for you bubbled in his chest. He wanted this feeling to never end: to come home from every mission with you in his arms.

"I don't know when we roll out for the mission, but I will be thinking about you the whole time." San smiled, his hands moving from your hair to cup your cheeks, his thumb moving along your cheeks. He couldn't help but admire you, pressing another kiss to your lips before you laughed softly at the feeling. This was bliss.

"How will I know that you actually mean that, San?" You asked, looking up at him as a small smirk came onto his lips. You then gasped as he picked you up, his arms gripping you tightly as he pressed you against the tile shower wall. He smiled down at your before you felt his cock now pressing back against your entrance. Well, there goes the calm shower.

You now had your hands pressed against the wall, holding you up as San moved from behind, leaning down to kiss your shoulder and stuff his face in your neck. Your moans echoed in the bathroom as you gripped his hair, making him moan loudly at the painful sting. Both of your moans had begun to echo in the room, only adding to the experience. "Fuck, I love you baby. Keep clenching down on me just like that baby, and I'm gonna fill you up and give you my kid."

San completely used your wet pussy, switching between words of praise and being outright filthy, with talks of breeding you and taking you outside to fuck you in front of everyone. San was absolutely gone, his mind fuzzy as he came for the third time that day in your pussy, the feeling making my you cum as well.

Once he cleaned you up again, he carried you back to your bed, laying you down on your sheets before he helped you get ready for bed. You thanked him, allowing him to help you before you both laid down on the bed. He held you as you began to slowly drift off, his lips pressed to your forehead.

When you woke up the next morning, you were alone.

You carefully got ready for the day, still feeling a bit sore from the night's events with San, along with being upset: part of you was upset that he left without telling you, another part was upset that you didn't wake up when he left. You made your way to the cafeteria, knowing that he would be there with the other ATEEZ members as they always ate together. However, when you entered the cafeteria, you noticed that he was nowhere to be seen, nor the other team members. You started walking around the base, looking for any sign of him or the others, sighing when you noticed that he was nowhere. When you arrived at the medic tent, F/N was packing up the various medical equipment, placing it all on the back of one of the Jeeps. With a confused look, you asked her what she was doing.

"We go back home today, remember? There is going to be a new set of medics to treat the ATEEZ team after they come back from their mission." You felt your body run cold at her words, asking if she was serious. There was a chance you weren't going to see San ever again- it was like the universe wanted to punish you. It made you wonder what you did in a past life to have San taken from you like this.

You helped F/N and the others pack silently before you went to pack your own things. You felt your heartstrings being pulled as you moved around your room, memories of last night with San filling your mind. As you finished making your bed, you noticed a glimmer of metal under your pillow, making you tilt your head. As you picked up your pillow, you stopped to see a dog tag with San's name on it, along with a folded note.

Hey, Y/N. You're sleeping so peacefully that I don't want to wake you up, but I have to go. Take my dog tag, so that way I have no choice but to come look for you. Don't forget to grab some Oreos on the way out.

I love you.

Captain San Choi.

~>~

"Doctor Y/N, there is someone requesting you in the lobby."

You sighed before nodding, entering the elevator. You had been so swamped since you had come back, not getting the opportunity to do much of anything. You closed your eyes as the elevator slowly brought you down to the lobby, your fingers playing with San's dog tag that sat in your scrub's' pocket. You hadn't found him yet, but you still had hope that sometime this weekend, you could take time off and do some research on him.

But that would have to wait. The elevator doors are opening.

You opened your eyes as you exited the elevator, making your way to the center desk within the lobby with a small tired smile on your face as you asked the nurse who was here to see you. You secretly hoped it wasn't another patient, wanting nothing more than to deal with the 8 other ones who were already on your roster.

"Doctor Y/N L/N?"

You turned to the voice, not realizing who it was at first. "Yes, that is me-" You stopped as your eyes met the face to the voice, your jaw dropping when you saw him.

San now stood in front of you, a small smile on his lips as he looked at you. Your eyes widened before you approached him with a growing smile. San did the same, his pace matching yours until he was able to wrap his arms around you, picking you up to spin you around. Neither one of you cared about how everyone else was looking at you both, too consumed with each other. You cupped his face before meeting his lips in a soft kiss, both of your smiles coming through the kiss before you both hugged each other tightly.

"How did you find me?" You asked, cupping his face again to ensure that it was really him. "I asked my commander what hospital you reported back to as you forgot something. That something is me." San laughed, holding his hand out to you, holding it out expectantly. You raised an eyebrow before placing his dog tag in his hand, making him shake his head. He then reached to hold your head, slowly intertwining your fingers before he whispered in your ear "you have an office, right? We should talk in there." You smiled at his words, nodding before you haphazardly let the front desk know you were on break. By the tone of his voice you weren't going to be doing much of talking, but, you didn't care. At least you had San back. As you both entered the elevator he moved to immediately stand in front of you, smashing his lips back into yours.

He's all that matters now. The elevator doors are closing.

[nicksolemnlyswears]

WAYS TO COME UNDONE

this is part 2 of WAYS TO DESTRESS but can be read as a standalone

summary: coriolanus keeps his promise about making you squirt all over him. what better way to do it than in front of the mirror.

pariring: young! coriolanus snow x capitol! reader

word count: 4.3k

warnings: 18+, smut, cursing, fingering, sex in front of mirror, squirting, pussy spanking, p in v, use of safe word, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it people), I DESPERATELY NEED A CORYO IN MY LIFE

a/n: hi 🌚 many wanted this, myself included hehe. it took a turn towards the end where it basically wrote itself. i have no control over what tickles my brain. i hope you guys enjoy it as much as i do. hopefully this oneshot shows more about the machinations of their relationship.

requests open ✨

From the moment Coryo showed you the racy clip of him using you while asleep, you have not been able to stop the waves of heat that consume your cunt.

You're a stellar student who always concentrates on the lectures and participates in class. Today, you find yourself in the back of the classroom, daydreaming about Coriolanus and his tongue. Focusing was out of the picture for you as you tried not to sneak your hand between your thighs and soothe the ache.

One of the many reasons your relationship works so well is that both of you are extremely perverted. Coriolanus has always been more in tune with that side of himself, but you needed assistance to bring that side out. Coriolanus saw it in you long before you did, and he patiently gauged it out and molded it to fit his crooked ways.

It's why Coriolanus using you while you were knocked cold has you acting this way. He pleasured himself when you were at your most vulnerable, and instead of feeling violated, you thanked him. You savor that instead of finding another whore to fuck his frustration out, he stays with you, no matter the state. If that makes you sick, then be it.

When your last class was over, you rushed to the apartment. You needed Coriolanus to stop this burning inside you. Sadly, he's a teacher's pet and workaholic who only managed to get home at eight at night.

He walks into the apartment calmly, humming under his breath while you watch him like a hawk. Coryo sees you on the living room couch 'lounging' and approaches you to leave a kiss on your head. Your eye twitches when he announces he's going to shower.

His upturned lips give him away. He's tormenting you. As if waiting for him all day wasn't torture enough. It could be worse, though he could've stayed longer at the lab. God knows he has a ton of experiments to work on.

With a huff, you follow him into the bedroom.

"How was your day, darling?" He asks, taking his clothes off.

He's like a masterpiece that has escaped a museum. His fair skin is unblemished except for the scars on his back that you've spent hours running your fingers over. Sometimes, he feels them burn, a reminder of what he's done in the past, but then you're there kissing over them to ease the pain.

"Long," you dryly respond, crossing your arms, inadvertently accentuating your chest.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Coryo says humorously, stepping into the steaming shower.

The foggy glass hides him from you, but you remain watching by the bathroom door. Despite your short answers, he continues to talk to you, successfully getting under your skin.

He's entertained by your lingering presence. Privacy is not in your vocabulary anymore. Coriolanus likes it when you get this needy. It's like an experiment where he tests how far you're willing to go.

It's not complicated; all you have to do is ask, and he'll give you the world, but you're too modest for your own good. It prevents you from coming right out with it. You could've had him the moment he stepped into the apartment if you had only asked.

You look at him hopefully when he steps out of the shower. Shamelessly, you take every inch of him. Coriolanus strong shoulders, his chiseled chest and abs, his pretty pink cock that hangs half hard most of the time.

He deprives you of it as he wraps a towel around his hips. Coriolanus approaches you, water droplets falling from his blonde hair and down his body.

Coriolanus is so close to you, and when you think he'll dip his head down to kiss you, he grabs your hips and moves you to the side to give himself passage into the bedroom. "'Excuse me."

You want to throw him with the vase of roses settled on the bathroom counter. You resist since you need him to be conscious for what you have planned. You're aware of how Coriolanus can read you like a book. So why isn't he asking about your mood or if you need anything?

He sits against the headboard, wearing only his pajama bottoms, his cock clearly outlined by the fabric. Coriolanus doesn't wear underwear to bed, he doesn't like the tight fabric when he's asleep. Having you hugging him throughout the night is enough.

With a huff, you strut over to the bed and straddle his lap. Expecting it, Coriolanus reaches for your hips, holding you tight onto him.

"Do it again," you say, placing your hands on his chest and provocatively arching your back as if offering yourself to him.

"What, darling?" He asks, quirking an eyebrow. He tilts his head towards you as if he didn't hear you properly.

You roll your eyes, annoyed. "Make me squirt," you say blatantly. It sounds wrong coming from your lips.

Coriolanus chuckles, shaking his head, "I said another time, darling. I'm tired tonight."

You punch his naked chest weakly, with your frown turning deeper. He grabs your hand midway through the air as you try to smack him again.

Amused at your boldness, he opens your palm and laces your fingers together. He kisses the back of your hand and holds it to his chest.

"You are mean and cruel, Coriolanus," you spit out, hoping to annoy him by using his full name. Maybe this will make him do it or at least provoke him to do something.

"You knew that when you accepted to marry me." His gaze hardens as he taps on the engagement ring on your fourth finger.

It glints delicately, catching people's attention and letting them know you're taken. He spent months searching for the right ring for you. Coriolanus had to find the perfect balance: nothing too simple where it would pass unseen but nothing too gaudy where you wouldn't wear it.

"I don't care how cruel you are to others as long as it's not me," you respond, cradling his jaw in your hand.

"Give me a good reason why I should do it," he asks, kissing your palm.

"I'll do anything, Coryo. I'll suck you off in the lab, cockwarm you in my father's office, let you tie me up, fuck my throat, anything! Hell, I'll even let you try anal again," you huff, winding yourself up.

You must really want it if you brought up anal. It's the one thing you've tried and haven't wanted to do again. You're pretty open to his suggestions, but that one is your hard limit.

He won't make you do it again. Seeing you needy like this is enough. Although he might take your offer of blowing him under the desk in his lab.

"You make a compelling case," he hums, looking at you carefully. You're flushed without him even touching you, and your nipples are hard under your nighty.

This isn't a whim, your body is visibly begging for him. Coriolanus has to pat himself on the back. This is all his doing.

"Coryo, you don't know how many times I've watched that video," you say as if to prove how much you need him.

"Kiss me," Coriolanus sighs, giving in.

You slam your lips against his, eagerly kissing him until you're breathless. Your fingers curl around his hair, tugging the strands and making him groan into your mouth. Taking the opportunity, you slip your tongue into his mouth, tasting him.

Coriolanus smacks a hand down on your ass cheek, leaving a red imprint behind. In retaliation, your teeth bite harshly onto his lower one, causing a drop of blood to surface.

"I love you, darling," he growls as his eyes darken with lust, and he cups your face with both his hands. You've turned so bold under his tutelage, stealing pages from the book he wrote.

"Yeah, I love you too, come on," you pant, taking off your night dress to reveal yourself to him.

"I've created a monster," Coryo murmurs, pawing on one of your breasts as he mouths the other one.

"Don't act like you don't like it," you moan, rolling your hips down on his bulge. Your lack of underwear is apparent as a wet patch forms on his pants.

Coryo involuntarily unwraps you from his body as he stands from the bed. You chase his lips with a whine when he pulls away from you. Coriolanus sets a chair in front of the floor-length mirror in the corner of the room, sitting on it and motioning for you to sit on his lap.

If he's going to give you what you want, he will do it his way. You need him to make you squirt, so he's going to have you watch so you never forget about the moment. He'll engrave in your brain how it was he who made it possible.

With his hands on your waist, he turns you to face the mirror and pulls you down to sit with your back to his chest. Just like a doll, he positions you with your legs propped up on his knees, exposing your dripping cunt.

"No matter what, you're going to look at yourself in the mirror, or there will be consequences," he growls into your ear, licking the shell of your ear and biting your earlobe.

"Yes, Coryo," you moan, excitedly biting your lip.

Looking at him through the mirror, you notice his wicked stare. He begins to roll your clit on his fingers steadily, earning a sigh of contentment from you.

He's memorized everything about your body. Each stage of arousal is burned into his brain at this point. It's how he knows you've been touching yourself today.

"How many times did you touch yourself?" He questions, digging his nose into your neck to smell the remnants of your lotion and perfume.

"Two before I left for university, one during lunch, and two when I got back," you admit between moans as your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

You were late to class because of Coryo's video. Still, your arousal persisted so much that you locked yourself in one of the bathrooms of the university and rubbed your clit till your legs shook with an orgasm. You walked out of the bathroom, ashamed of your behavior, but it got you throughout the rest of the day.

When you got home, you fell on the couch, pressing one of the decorative cushions between your legs. You rocked against it for nearly an hour, edging yourself to give Coriolanus time to get home. The last one was in the shower with the detachable head minutes before he arrived.

"Five times and one in public," he chides with a click of his tongue, "What do I do with you?"

Your confession is music to Coriolanus' ears, but you can't know that. So he delivers five sharp slaps down your spread cunt. He covers the reddening flesh with his hand, putting pressure on it to ease the sting.

"Ow, Coryo," you cry, digging your nails into his thighs where you are barely hanging on.

"You should've come to me. I could've helped you much more than your fingers," he tells you mockingly.

Uncovering your cunt there is a dash of red on your skin. Coriolanus didn't hold back with his slaps. It's hard to explain why, but you like it when he manhandles you like that. He makes you cry just to console you later.

"You're busy," you sniff, hiccuping when he gathers your slick to spread it over the stinging skin.

Coriolanus takes his studies and lab work seriously; you never wish to interrupt him in any way, no matter how many times he reassures you it's okay.

"I'm never too busy for you, darling," he responds, resting his chin on your shoulder. His touch returns to your clit, rubbing it round and round until you're moaning out his name.

Finally, Coriolanus slips his finger into you, giving you the relief you desperately want. Even if it is your pleasure, his fingers are better than yours. They are long and strong and know precisely how to curve to give you the pleasure you seek.

The relief that takes over you is so much that you let your head fall back with your eyes closed. In an instant, the fingers are gone, and another slap is deposited on your sensitive skin.

"Eyes on the mirror," Coriolanus reminds you. He wants you to see how he's the only one that can make you crumble.

His free hand, which had been wrapped like a vice around your waist, comes up to your chest to squeeze your breasts and nipples. His eyes darken as he observes how your supple flesh spills between his fingers.

"Look at how pretty you are," he whispers in your ear as he adds another finger into your dripping cunt.

A sense of bashfulness settles on your chest as you do as he says. You follow his hand as it trails down your sweaty skin, your face and chest flushed because of the heat. He traces your nipples with his fingers, and you watch how they turn hard in response. Next, he touches your stomach, his fingers ghosting your belly button from which he has licked his own cum from.

It's like your body harbors memories of Coriolanus Snow, from the multicolored lovebites in your chest and neck to the thick arousal that coats your thighs. Each one was caused by him, for him.

Sensing your mind is slipping, he lightly taps your thighs, bringing you back to focus on the body he considers so beautiful. He takes his wet fingers out of you and spreads your cunt even farther with them.

He traces your pearl, which is bright red, frustrated from arousal and the constant touching it has endured today. Then, your pussy lips that puff out as blood surges to it.

Coriolanus gathers the drop of slick that hangs from your fleshy pink opening. "See? All beautiful and all mine," he says. Only now does he allow you to turn from the mirror because it's to kiss him.

Remembering why you're in this position, Coriolanus slides two fingers into you, fucking them with precision into your g spot. No more teasing and prolonging.

"It feels so good, Coryo," you whine, holding onto his arm as your hips grind further into his hand.

"It looks good, too," he mutters, hypnotized by the way your cunt swallows his fingers. Not even your nails digging into his arm snaps him away from the pretty sight.

With hooded eyes, you keep looking into the mirror, waiting for the moment Coryo promised you. Coriolanus hand presses down on the spot above your mound. It's the key to make you squirt. His fingers bully your spot more forcefully, feeling your walls clench with an impending orgasm.

"Oh, fuck, C-coryo," you choke out, breathing heavily. It's like an orgasm is coming but so much better than the needy, desperate ones from today. It feels much more fulfilling.

"Relax for me," he prompts, slowing his pace. You're always so fucking tense even as he fucks you senseless.

"Ah, ah, ah," your moans staccato as you near your precipice and tears accumulate in the corner of your eyes.

It's a constant climb where you feel the excitement of nearing the top, and then suddenly, you slide back down. A sudden burst of pleasure consumes you as a gush wets Coryo's fingers and mirror. His fingers whip out and furiously rub your frustrated clit, causing a smaller gush to stream down.

Your mouth is ajar as you gasp, your hands bunching up the fabric of his pants. Your cunt visibly spasms as your orgasm prolongs itself.

"You did it, darling," Coriolanus sweetly says, kissing your cheek as he looks at you adoringly, "How did it feel?"

He touches you all over, spreading the drops of squirt that adorn your thighs. Your legs fall down limply as you relax back onto Coryo. He continues stroking your skin, looking at the beautiful, wet mess he made.

"I-I don't know, there was this just sensation of release like everything left my body," you say between pants as you try and catch your breath.

Coriolanus smirks and hugs you tightly, lost in his own world. It's like the post-orgasmic bliss affected him rather than you.

"Can we try again?" You ask minutes after, feeling the spark reignite by just thinking about the stream of fluid that came out of you.

"Whatever my darling wants," Coriolanus agrees, spanking your ass playfully when you get up from the chair.

You kneel on the floor to pull down his pants and find his leaking cock. Going straight for it, you suck him off like there is no tomorrow, swallowing around him and taking him deep till your nose rubs against his pubic bone.

Coriolanus doesn't allow himself to cum, even if his body screams at him to shoot his load into your warm mouth. Pulling you up from the floor, he pushes you towards the bed. You get on your knees and hands, shaking your ass for him cheekily.

Coriolanus has a feeling that today it will be a quick one. You're both too wound up to prolong this any further. His hand curves over your hip as he pushes his cock through your folds, wetting it. Without a warning, he snaps his hips, stretching your walls.

"Love your cock, Coryo," you moan as he fucks you harshly. "So big and thick and so deep," you mumble, acting cockdrunk.

You bury your head on the sheets, arching your back so your chest presses against the bed as you splutter nonsense. The tension of the day gets to you, and you allow yourself to go dumb on his cock.

"It's all yours, darling," he grunts, gripping your waist to push you back onto his cock. At this point, you're a cocksleeve to him as he chases his release. The sounds of his balls slapping against your clit are loud and obnoxious.

Keeping a steady rhythm, he fucks you until you're fluttering around him again. Coriolanus bends over your back, splaying his hand on your pelvis. He had promised he'd make you squirt again. It works as you drench his cock again, soaking the sheets and his thighs.

"Oh my god," you cry as your legs shake. You would've fallen flat on your face if it hadn't been for Coryo, who holds you up as he continues to push into you.

Tears soak the pillow you're hugging. It's too good. His cock is brushing repeatedly over your spongy spot. You don't want him to stop, ever, but you're so sensitive. It's a push and pull. You want more, but you're unsure if your body is up to it.

In a moment of lucidity, a wave of emotions grabs you and pulls you down. It snaps you out of your trance and hurts your chest. Shame, pleasure, desperation, joy, embarrassment, arousal.

Questions invade your brain. Since when have you been like this, letting yourself be treated this way? How are you not ashamed of yourself? This is not how a lady behaves. You're no better than a whore in a whorehouse. You should be ashamed of yourself.

"Rose!" You cry out with a sob as the shakiness localized in your legs spreads all over your body.

Immediately, Coriolanus stops all movement, startled by the use of the safe word. Your soft cries snap him out of his shock, and he, as gently and carefully as possible, pulls out of you.

Your whole body shakes as you cry, worrying Coriolanus to no end. He questions if he did anything that hurt you but comes up empty-handed.

"Darling, are you okay?" He asks, helping you sit up on the bed. He takes the clean blanket by the end of the bed, covering your body.

"Too-too much. I-I'm sorry," you hiccup, hugging the blanket tighter against you.

Coriolanus carefully respects your private space since he's unsure if you want or need his touch. He sits beside you, though, listening to anything you might need.

Humiliation fills your body. You were the one to ask for more and couldn't handle it, worrying Coryo about something that was not his fault.

"It's okay, nothing to be sorry about," he speaks with the softest voice he can muster, "Do you want me to bring you water?"

"Just hold me," you say as more tears trickle down your face.

So, he does. Coriolanus kisses your temple and runs his hand across your back until your sobs settle. He holds you close and whispers reassuring words in your ear.

You desperately want to tell him it's nothing he did. He wasn't being terribly rough or mean. You loved every moment of tonight until your emotions and unwanted thoughts got the best of you.

In your vulnerable state, the pent-up frustration of the day and the negative emotions you kept locked bubbled up and caused a sensory overload. Even now, you can barely speak, trying to regulate your emotions again.

"Don't go," you hiccup, reaching for his hand when Coryo stands from the bed. Terrified, he believes the same things your brain is feeding you.

"I'm not going anywhere, darling. Just looking for our clothes," he says, squeezing your left hand and kissing your knuckles.

Coriolanus grabs his pants from the floor and slips them on. Digging through the drawers, he finds one of his t-shirts and grabs a pair of your underwear. Your comfort is his priority, and he knows how comforting you find wearing his clothes. He helps you put the garments on, wrapping you back up on the blanket.

Leaning back on the pillows, he pulls you towards him, hugging you to his chest. You hug his middle, burying your head in his neck, falling asleep like that.

He stays awake, feeling the puffs of breath on his neck. Coriolanus hand keeps running up and down your back, under your shirt. It works to comfort himself as well.

You've only used the safe word twice, and both times, you had been doing worse things by far. He had understood twice and had been alert in any case. Today took him off guard, and it scared him.

Coryo debates on waking you the following day. He decides to do it to check how you're doing. You can decide if you want to go to university or not. He will walk you there personally if that is what you choose.

He wakes you by running his hand up and down your arm, softly shaking you out of your slumber, "Darling?"

"Mmm," you groan, your eyes fluttering open. He'd kept the curtains closed so they wouldn't bother you.

"How are you? Do you need anything?" Coriolanus asks, brushing your hair away from your face.

You stay silent momentarily, gauging your mental state, "I'm good. Am I running late?" You ask, sitting up on the bed.

"No, it's still early. Want me to walk you to school?" He asks, watching as you get up and head into the bathroom.

"Please?" You ask, turning to look at him before closing the bathroom door.

"Of course," he nods.

"Coryo, I think I know what happened last night," you speak loudly through the door, not a moment later.

"And what's that love?" He asks, standing by the door.

"I got my period," you say simply.

The blood staining your underwear is the reason you lost yourself last night. Your hormones must've been all over the place yesterday. It explains your sudden breakdown and why you were acting like a bitch in heat before that.

"Fuck," he mutters under his breath. He's glad it's just that and nothing he did. He feels calm now as most of his worry is swept away. "I'll go make breakfast," he tells you before he heads out to the kitchen.

His worry is replaced by disappointment in himself. He lost track of your damn period because he was so busy at the lab. He has to share part of the blame. Ever since he started living with you, he noticed those subtle mood changes you got as your period neared and passed through.

First is the neediness, constantly touching him and asking to be touched. You got freakier when you were ovulating. Then there is the bad mood you get whenever he just as breathes the wrong way or places something where it doesn't belong. You try hiding it and holding back your scoffs, but he notices. Lastly, it's the tears. Your emotions are delicate when this time of the month comes around.

Last year, you got your period around the time of The Hunger Games and couldn't watch them. Tears instantly tracked down your face when you usually don't care. Coriolanus had to record them for you to watch later because you wanted to see everything that was implemented, thanks to him.

Because he recognizes how you get, he took it upon himself to make those days more bearable for you. Not to say he tiptoes around you, but he's gentler, more restrained. He tries not to be too mean. Had he known your period was right around the corner, he wouldn't have teased you today or made you wait for it.

He scolds himself as he pieces the puzzle together. That must've been why you took the sleeping pills the other day. You had an emotional day, and your overthinking mind didn't let you sleep.

Sensing he's kicking himself, you hug Coryo's waist from behind as he places the food on the table. "I love you, Coryo," you say sweetly, pressing a kiss on his spine.

Now, this is more in line with your normal, sweet behavior.

Coriolanus turns around in your embrace, hugging your shoulders and pulling you tight against him, kissing your hairline. "I love you so damn much," he speaks into your hair. "You had me worried last night," he admits, kissing your lips slowly before he lets you go.

"I don't know what happened. One moment, I was alright, and the next…well, you know," you shrug, sitting on the chair Coryo pulls out for you.

"Your emotions got the best of you. I know how that feels," Coriolanus nods, understanding better than anyone how it feels to lose yourself in the moment.

That day in the forest of District 12 will forever haunt him.

There we go! That was the part 2 I promised you! It took an unexpected turn but it felt right to me. Sorry it couldn't be kinkier :(

If you'd like to read more of this pairing you can also read The Mentor. It's a small prequel to this one shot set around three years back when they started dating. That being said The Mentor Pt. 2 is FILTHY.

If you liked it don't hesitate to let me know!

[tomhollandisabae]

lonely- simon "ghost" riley x f!reader

masterlist

fandom; call of duty

summary; after simon had left for his next mission, you were faced with the biggest challenge of your life and you had to get through that all by yourself.

warnings; angst, pregnancy, fluff, mentions of death, english is not my first language

words; idk 🤷🏻‍♀️

a/n; this idea was stuck into my brain since last week and once i couldn't find anything similar to it anywhere to read, i decided to write it myself. also you can send me your requests!!

a/n2; f1 fans please don't come after me i know you're expecting the 2nd part of the story with lewis but i have no motivation to write it😭i'll do it some time, but i don't know when. uni has been draining me out so much.

"please take care of yourself " was the last thing you told simon -your husband - before he left for yet another mission.

now it had been 12 months and there was no sign of him. however, a lot had happened in the past year, but most importantly you had given birth to a beautiful baby girl -all by yourself.

when you had found out that you were expecting, simon was long gone and you had no way to communicate with him. the only thing that you could do was to get through this pregnancy all alone. thank god that maternity leave was a thing, otherwise you had no idea how you could manage having a baby all by yourself.

whatsoever, you couldn't be mad at your husband as a matter of fact that you had found out about your pregnancy only one week after he had left, while the guilt was everyday eating you alive.

you had no idea how he would react though. you were aware of his past and how his father had treated him.

simon is a lovely human being... towards you. he's a sweet, loving and caring husband and you are absolutely sure that he will make a great father.

you had went through a lot during your pregnancy and you could admit that it wasn't an easy one; mood swings, cravings, morning sickness, back pain etc.

the worst part of it all was when you went into labour. you had spent hours and hours trying to bring the little bundle of joy, that you and the love of your life had created together, into this world.

and after many hours of pain and screaming you were finally holding your baby girl in your arms. the first thing that you had noticed about her were her eyes -same as her father's- and that made your eyes well up with tears.

now it had been almost 4 months since you had given birth and the constant stress of taking care of a baby by yourself had tore you apart both physically and emotionally. you were barely sleeping, you had lost your appetite and were actually a walking wreck.

some nights you would spend them in your bed crying yourself to sleep, wishing your husband was here to help you out.

currently, you were taking a shower as you heard your daughter crying. sighing deeply, you got out and wrapped a towel around you as you made your way to the nursery.

you took her in your arms and sat down on the rocking chair, lowering your towel and starting feeding her. once she was fed, you put her back to sleep and went into your room, changing quickly and laying on your bed.

you brought both your arms over your eyes in an attempt to block out any kind of light source and bit on your bottom lip trying not to cry, again.

as your mind wander in different places, you didn't hear the front door opening and closing as well as the heavy footsteps on the staircase.

you only raised your head as you saw your bedroom door opening, revealing your husband.

immediately, you were flooded by many different emotions as you jumped up from the bed and attacked him in a -suffocating- hug.

simon chuckled lightly and wrapped his arms protectively around you and kissed the top of your head.

"i can't believe that you're back." you pulled away for a moment "you're actually back." you embraced him again not having noticed the tears that were spilling from your eyes.

"i'm sorry it took me too long my love" he mumbled on top of your head as he squished you in his arms.

"i missed you" you lifted your head up, looking at him.

"i missed you y/n" he leaned down and slowly brought his lips on top of yours kissing you softly and yet so loving.

sooner or later, however, you broke away as you looked up at him with a huge smile.

"i have to show you something" you said excited and grabbed his hand, leading him out of your bedroom and across the hall way.

you glanced at him anxiously as you slowly opened the door of your baby's room. you turned on the lights and guided simon inside.

you were looking carefully at him as his expression changed from a curious one to a shocked.

"love..." he exclaimed as he turned to look at you while his bottom lip was trembling.

"i found out one week after you left. i had no way to tell you, simon, i'm so sorry" the guilt took over you.

"shh it's okay." he wrapped his arms once again around you as you sobbed into his chest.

"i just... it was awful, simon. first the guilt that there was a way to tell you, but i was too stupid to think about it and second all the pain, the emotions, everything... i just feel so... useless." you cried out.

"hey" he grabbed both your cheeks and looked you in the eye "you're the strongest woman i've ever known in my entire life, y/n. not only for going through a pregnancy and labour by yourself, but also for being able to get through that with being aware of a chance of me never coming back again and yet you got enough courage and look where that brought you love."

it was true. every time he would go on a new mission, the curiosity of his well being would kill you. every single day you were checking you mail for a letter that would be proclaiming your husband dead.

"i love you so much simon" you raised on your tiptoes and buried your face into the crook of his neck.

"i love you more sweetheart." he lifted your head once again and kissed you softly.

you were so grateful for the feeling of his warm, soft lips against yours, kissing them with so much love and care. every single time you would be in his radar, this man would worship the ground you were walking on.

finally, you pulled away with a small smile.

"come on" you guided him towards the crib where the newborn baby was sleeping in soundly.

carefully, you picked her up in your arms and turned towards simon that was looking at his daughter as if she was the most precious thing on earth.

"do you want to hold her?" you suggested.

"i... i don't know how" he admitted and you kissed his cheek smiling.

"that's why i'm here for. i'll show you how." you said and just like that you handed the small baby over to your husband that was feeling as if he was holding the most fragile thing in the world.

"she's... so small." he stroked lightly her rosy cheek with his thump.

what took you aback was that her little hand enveloped his pinky finger, holding it firmly. you gasped and his breath hitched in his throat.

"wow she didn't even do that to me. only knowing you for a few minutes and she's already a daddy's girl." you complained jokingly placing your hands on your hips.

"really doubt that. there's no one better than you." he kissed your forehead and your face broke into a huge smile as you wrapped your arms around your husband, admiring the way your daughter was rested in her father's chest, not really believing that you had finally built a family with the man you loved most in the entire world.

at that moment, you couldn't be more happy.

[doc-pickles]

sick day | mat barzal

summary: Mat comes home from a roadie and takes care of his family

warnings: throwing up, so much fluff

a/n: y’all asked for dad Mat! enjoy this fluffy piece!

xoxo

nina

Mat was just coming off a four day roadie when you called. The plane had just touched down in New York and he’d turned his phone on only to find you calling.

“Hey baby, we just landed.”

“Mat don’t come home.”

Your words made Mat freeze, Tito looking at him in concern as his face dropped.

“W-what? Baby whatever it is we can-“

“No, no, no,” you rushed out as you realized what Mat thought. “No, god not like that. I’m sorry. We all have the stomach flu and I don’t want you getting sick. All three of us having been throwing up since yesterday morning.”

Mat let out a breath of relief as he leaned back into his seat, “I’m still coming home baby. If you’re all sick I want to take care of you.”

“But you have playoffs right around the corner and I-“

“I’ll see you soon,” Mat’s answer has you heaving a sigh, knowing that arguing with him would be useless. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

+

Half an hour later Mat walked through the front door just as your five year old son Luca puked into the bowl on his lap. You groaned as Rosie, your two year old, burrowed further into your chest with a pained moan. You met Mat’s eyes over their heads and sighed, “Welcome to the fun house.”

Mat dropped his bags by the door and toed his shoes off before going to help Luca. Once he was done throwing up Mat gathered him in his arms and took him upstairs for a bath. You and Rosie both dozed off, your shirt tightly clutched in her hands as she lightly snored.

When you woke up again Rosie was gone and Mat was just coming down the stairs. He smiled at you before he walked over and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Both kids are bathed and sleeping. How are you feeling mama?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” you groaned as Mat pulled you into his lap. “Stop, I’m all sweaty and gross and I don’t want to get you sick.”

“I just wanna hold my wife,” Mat groaned as he pulled you closer. “I haven’t seen you in four days.”

You gave up your struggling and settled into Mat’s hold, “And I spent a lot of that time puking my guts out.”

“Why don’t you go take a bath and I’ll watch out for the kids,” you eyed Mat skeptically but he simply met you with an eye roll. “I can handle them babe. Go take care of yourself.”

You begrudgingly walked upstairs, but you couldn’t fight Mat’s thinking as the warm water of the bath soothed your aching muscles. You stayed in far longer than you should have but after getting out you felt a hundred times better.

When you finally trekked back downstairs Rosie was settled on Mat’s hip as he cleared the dishes in the sink. Luca was bundled up on the couch, so you went over to him and pulled him into your lap.

“How are your feeling bubba,” you pressed a kiss to his dark hair as he snuggled close to you. His forehead didn’t feel as warm as earlier so you took that as a win.

“‘m feeling better,” Luca mumbled as he held on tightly to you. “Daddy made toast and I didn’t frow it up.”

You looked up and Mat met your eye over both of your kids heads. He smirked and you swore your heart beat a little faster. You truly couldn’t imagine doing life with anyone but Mat.

The rest of the day went by easily. You all curled up on the couch to watch a movie, Rosie clinging to Mat and refusing to move. Not that Mat was complaining, his daughter tucked in his side as he ran his fingers through her dark curls.

When Luca mentioned that he was hungry Mat was up in an instant to make soup for everyone. Rosie still clung to his chest as he moved around the kitchen and told her everything he was doing. By the time everything was finished Rosie was asleep, arms still tightly wrapped around Mat’s neck.

“I’m gonna go put her down and then I’ll get you both some soup,” Mat leaned down to kiss Luca’s forehead then yours before he headed upstairs with Rosie.

The soup was the perfect thing for your still uneasy stomach. Luca even had a second bowl which made Mat beam with pride. The recipe was from his mom, something he had asked her for the first time Luca had come down with a bad cold. It was a tradition at this point to make it on sick days and you couldn’t complain.

When Luca began to drift off at the table Mat took him upstairs and put him to bed. You began tidying up the kitchen, carefully washing out dishes when Mat came back, “Let me finish cleaning babe.”

“But I-“

“You’re still sick. Go lay down, I’ll be up in a minute,” Mat pressed a kiss to your temple before pushing you towards the stairs with a playful swat to your butt.

You took time to do your nighttime routine, feeling better than you had in days. By the time Mat came upstairs you were tucked under the covers and half asleep.

“C’mere baby,” Mat whispered as he slid into bed, arms stretched out toward you. “I missed sleeping next to you.”

You gladly scooted across the bed and settled onto Mat’s chest, his hands slipping under your shirt to rub your back, “Thank you for taking care of us today.”

“That’s my job,” Mat mumbled into your hair. “I promised you in sickness and in health. Just trying to stay true to my vows.”

As you both drifted off to sleep you couldn’t help but think about how grateful you were to have Mat by your side.

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Our Home (Azriel x Reader)

Hiiii. This one has long been in the works. It's the follow-up part to this little one I did called "Why Are You Still Here?"

Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Some alcohol use. Angst. Discussions surrounding mental health. Suggestion of infidelity.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You were not where you wanted to be. And you did not know where you fit anymore.

Solace had once been the home you’d made your own. It had once been the warmth and security of your mate’s arms. A life. A belonging.

It was never supposed to be dark, dingy taverns and drinking yourself to oblivion. You were aware of your hypocrisy — that you were now no better than Azriel, himself, had been.

But you didn’t know what else to do. How else to keep patching over the wound that was opening you up from the inside.

Three days and nights away from Azriel felt like three centuries. Three days and nights spent on Amren’s couch, your ears barely catching the way she groused at you about making things up with your mate — and getting out of her hair. You knew that she only had your best interests at heart; a swarm of concern wrapped up in sharp, barbed words and orders. 

Stop sulking, girl, and speak to your mate. Wallowing on the couch and taking up my space doesn’t do either of you any good. If he knocks on my door and asks to speak to you again, I’m letting him in this time. Stupid, foolish children in love.

You knew that she was right. You’d asked Az to give you a few days…and for what? So you could get yourself into a clear enough headspace to talk to him.

So, no, the wisest choice had not been to end up in a bar on the other side of town — but here you were. If Azriel could spend months upon months pushing you away, indulging in self-serving vices…so could you.

You whiled away the hours on refills of whiskey and off-kilter music and the presence of numerous males coming up to you and offering to buy you another drink — all of which you politely turned away. You weren’t there for attention, or to feel wanted…the mere thought of looking at somebody other than your mate—

It took you right back to the possibility that Azriel may have done just that. That he’d come stumbling home after hours of unexplained absence, stinking to the high heavens of booze and cloying perfume. You wanted — needed — to believe that there was some other, reasonable explanation. That there was no way the male tied to your soul would fall into the arms of somebody else.

But the truth was that you just did not know anymore. He’d successfully pushed you away enough to fill you with doubt.

The feeling was far worse than any battle wound. Far more excruciating than the critical injury you’d received during the war with Hybern. This pain was like a sickness, spreading through you, slicing at you, becoming you. This pain could tear you apart, limb from limb.

“The same again, please.” You rasped, sliding your empty glass towards the pretty barmaid. She eyed you cautiously before fulfilling your request. The amber liquid didn’t burn quite as much this time. 

But it seemed that no amount of alcohol was giving you the desired effect. Drink after drink after drink, and you still didn’t feel it seeping into your bones and blood and carrying you off to a place that wasn’t as painful. You may as well have been pouring the drinks straight onto the floor, rather than down your throat.

Still, you remained sitting at that same spot at the bar, nursing your drink and studying the nicks and callouses of your weapon-worn hands as your heavy thoughts bombarded you. Where would you sleep tonight? You were sure Amren would growl at you if you turned up at her door again. You could go to the River House, but you didn’t want to cause any disruption or upset for Nyx. And it seemed that both the House of Wind and the Town House were a no-go — that Az could be staying at either. Something told you that he was unlikely to be at the house you shared together, but…you didn’t want to go there, either.

Perhaps you would just drink yourself so stupid that you’d eventually curl up on a bench and fall asleep without feeling the cold.

The cold. It swept in, encasing you from behind as somebody entered the tavern, their heavy footsteps carrying across the wooden floor. You paid them no mind, not interested in the various other punters around you. You hunched over your drink, tracing your finger over the rim of the glass, and you didn’t bother to look up even when the stool was pulled out beside you.

“Before you say anything,” you murmured, too used, now, to the sleazy routine of the males around you, “no, you cannot buy me a drink.” 

“Good.” Azriel’s voice came quietly from beside you. “I don’t think it’d be wise for you to have another.”

That voice — deep and smooth and rich. A voice that had spoken countless I love yous, that had breathed quiet laughs at your shared, inside jokes, that had moaned your name in peace and pleasure. A voice that had always been a comfort to you.

It now twisted your stomach. Filled you with a sickening anxiety. You no longer knew what words would be spoken in that voice. You weren’t sure you were ready for them.

Your body tense, you slowly turned your head to meet your mate’s eyes. The look that sat on his face, in his hazel stare…it was one of beautiful agony. Of stunning, twisted devastation.

A flawless face marred by pain.

Azriel studied you, and you couldn’t help wondering what he saw on your face. Besides your cheeks being flushed from the alcohol, and your eyes red-raw from days of weeping. Whatever he found there…it made him flinch.

“What are you doing here?” You willed your voice to sound strong, but it was weak. Pathetic. 

“I followed your scent from Amren’s apartment to here.” He swallowed. “And given that this was where we had our first drink together…”

You looked around. Pretended that such a thought hadn’t dawned on you, even though that exact spot in the corner was where you and Azriel had sat for hours that first night, drinking and talking and laughing. 

You’d known, by the time that he’d walked you home, that you were going to spend the rest of your existence with him.

Or so you’d thought. You weren’t so sure, now.

“Finish your drink.” Azriel nodded to your glass. “We’re going home.”

You snorted, turning back to your glass. The liquid sloshed as you lifted it to your lips. “That’s not been home for a long while. It’s just…bricks and mortar and pain.”

He paused. “That’s not true.”

“Is it not, Azriel? You can’t seem to stand spending any time there, either—”

“I want to talk to you about all of this, Y/N.” He stared at you seriously. Pleadingly. “Just…not here. Please.”

Because Azriel was a staunchly private person.

And maybe he didn’t love you anymore. The thought — though complete agony — was entirely possible.

But he wouldn’t end your relationship in the same place it had begun. 

So you drained your glass, savouring the feeling of the liquid sliding down your throat. And then you set it down on the bar, and turned to face him.

“Where is your coat?” He studied the thin tunic and breeches that did nothing to keep out the cold.

You shrugged a shoulder. “Left it at Amren’s, I guess.” 

“It’s freezing outside.”

“Oh, now you care—”

The clearing of a throat stopped you both in your tracks. You glanced at the young barmaid who stared between the two of you uncomfortably. She had the same look that most people adopted in Azriel’s presence — awe and fear at their High Lord’s spymaster.

“I’m sorry, but,” she cleared her throat again, straightening out her shoulders, “if you two are going to have a domestic, I’m going to have to ask you to take it outside…”

Beside you, Azriel’s cheeks pinkened. “We’re not.” He said brusquely. “We’re leaving.”

Before you could offer your own response, he was tugging you from the barstool and draping his heavy jacket around your shoulders. It swamped you a ridiculous amount, and when he actually stopped in front of you to fasten the buttons, you scowled and stepped out of reach.

“I’m not a child.” You said. “Let’s just…go.”

It was hard to not feel like a child as you meandered your way to the door in that preposterously large coat, the arms swinging and the material swallowing you up. Azriel remained a step behind, following you out into the icy night air. You walked a few paces in a still silence, only stopping to face him when you were well out of earshot of the bar. 

“So.” It was instinctive — the way you wrapped his jacket around yourself. Not something you were wholly aware of doing. Though you were certainly aware of the way you very pointedly sniffed it, looking for some trace of that sweet scent you’d smelled before. But…nothing. “Which house do you want to finish with me in? Ours? The Town House? The House of Wind? We could go to the River House, but I don’t think Rhys or Feyre would appreciate the performance—-”

“Is that what you think?” Azriel cut you off, the pain on his face moulding into something stiller. Icier. “That I’m finishing our relationship?”

You shrugged. And you hated — utterly hated — being so confrontational. This wasn’t you. And some small part of it could be blamed on the alcohol, yes, but…mostly…mostly, you were just at your wit’s end.

After months of trying to reach him calmly, compassionately. Months and months of trying to talk to him gently, to get him to open up to you. It had gotten you nowhere.

You felt your only option, now, was to shuck off that soft, soothing exterior, and go hard. Go real. 

“I don’t know what to think,” you retorted. “You don’t speak to me anymore — besides the occasional grunt. And given that I’m not a gods-damned mind-reader—”

“I am not finishing things with you.” Azriel snapped — so loud, so harsh, so unlike him, that you stopped in your tracks. “Not now, and not ever.”

You stared at him, already feeling your hard demeanour slipping. The words — though a small relief — were hard to believe. Hard to believe, when he’d given you no indication for a long, long time that he even wanted you anymore.

You shrugged weakly, begging your eyes not to tear up. “But what kind of relationship is this, Az? Months and months of silence. Of coldness. What am I supposed to think?”

“...I’ve handled things so badly. But I’d like a chance to explain.”

Perhaps it was the muted pleading in his eyes, the hunching of his shoulders. How he looked the smallest he ever had. Or perhaps it was just because he was your mate…whatever the reason, you found yourself relenting. You swallowed, crossing your arms over your chest and silently nodding towards a bench that overlooked the river. Az dipped his chin in acknowledgement of the request and promptly followed suit. 

You sat, leaving distance between the two of you. Az tucked his wings in as tight as he possibly could; uncomfortable for him, you knew, but he was respectful of the fact that you wanted space. A small glimmer of the Azriel you’d always known and loved.

He seemed to suck in a slow breath, twisting his scarred hands around each other. You could feel the nerves that rolled off of him in waves. This – speaking and baring his soul — was perhaps harder for him than outright combat. 

You cleared your throat. “Before you start…I need to ask you something.”

Hazel eyes turned to study you. Azriel gave a small nod. 

“I have to know if you…” The words tasted sour and wrong in your mouth. In your whole body, in fact. You were sure a shiver shot through you as you blurted in one breath, “I just need to know if you fucked somebody else.”

Azriel paused — and then blinked at you.

Gaped at you, like the suggestion in and of itself was utterly absurd.

As if he hadn’t come home stinking of perfume. As if he hadn’t lied about his whereabouts when you’d asked. As if you were wrong to so much as think it, let alone voice it.

He shook his head, still blinking. “What?”

“Perhaps you were too drunk that night to remember.” Your lips pressed into a thin line. “You disappeared on me for hours, Az, like you always seem to these days. Then you come home smelling of perfume and lie to me that you’d been with Mor when I knew you couldn’t have been. So tell me. Honestly. Did you fuck someone who isn’t me?”

“Of course I didn’t. I would never do that to you. Do you know how sick it makes me feel, just thinking of being with someone other than you?”

He couldn’t possibly have a clue how much you needed to hear that. But they were just words. He’d done nothing to back them up for so, so long.

Your eyes filled with tears as you stared at him. “But you can’t seem to stand being with me, either.”

His own eyes shuttered — as though he was trying to block out your words. He slumped back on the bench, wings awkward and limp around him. You could see his chest heaving, hear his heavy breathing. 

“I don’t—” His voice cracked. “I’m no good with words. I’m no good with…with talking.”

“But I can’t take the silence or the loneliness anymore. Azriel, please—”

“I was with someone that night.”

He blurted the words in such a rush, you almost didn’t catch them. His hands squeezed into fists at his sides, as though the mere feeling of speaking so earnestly was like peeling his skin off.

You fell so, so still. Stared at him. Your stomach plummeted, twisted, and your voice didn’t sound like yours as you croaked out, “who?” 

“That night, I…I was with Madja.”

It was all you could do to stare at him. And as Madja’s face floated through your mind — the old, withered, beloved healer of Velaris…you could do nothing but stare. 

“Is that supposed to be funny?” You demanded.

Az stared down at his hands. “Of course not. A little while ago, I started regularly visiting Madja.”

“...Why? Are you injured?” Your eyes immediately searched him for anything you might have missed. And yet — nothing. 

He shook his head. “Physically, I’m fine, but…in here?” He tapped a finger to his forehead. Moved that finger down to sit over his heart. “And here? I’m…I’m not. I’m not fine.”

Those cold, hard walls you’d thrown up to get you through this conversation…you felt them falter a little. You swallowed, studying your mate. “I don’t understand, Az…”

Finally — finally — he angled his body towards yours. Faced you. And the raw emotion that lay in his eyes…you almost couldn’t bear it. It could cut you. Cut you into pieces and scatter you to the wind. 

Tears were clouding his vision, muddying that hazel into a watery run of colour. He blinked, his lips quivering as those tears spilled over and ran down his cheeks. It was second nature for you to reach out and wipe them away, but he stopped you in your tracks. Allowed his tears to run free as he held onto your hand like he may never get another chance. 

“When I try to sleep at night,” his voice cracked. “When I close my eyes — do you know what I see?”

You swallowed down your own emotion, shaking your head. You’d known of him sleeping fitfully, of course — if he bothered to sleep in the same bed as you at all. But you’d never been overly aware of it.

He blinked another wave of tears away. “I see you in that healer’s tent after the war, covered in blood. I hear—” He cut himself off, voice once again hitching with his emotion. “I hear your screams of pain. Your cries. I hear you begging someone — anyone — to make it go away. I see your face turning far too pale. And I hear, over and over and over again, the moment that Madja told me there was a chance you wouldn’t make it.”

You were unable to stop your own tears forming again. You squeezed his hand, face creasing with pain. “Azriel—”

“It haunts me.” He whispered. “Because what you and I have…I never thought I’d have this. I never thought I’d find my mate. I never thought I’d be able to have such happiness. So when Madja told me there was a chance she wouldn’t be able to save you…I didn’t know what I was going to do. I didn’t know how I was going to go on.”

“But she did save me, Az.” You scooted closer. “She did.”

“I just…I came so close to losing you. To losing the love of my life. It sent me spiralling into this mindset of being scared all the damn time. Every time you left the house, or I had to go on a mission…I was losing my mind with it, Y/N. And I was so terrified of ever feeling that way again that it seemed so much easier to push you away. I was too selfish to let you go completely. I thought if I could just…have you at arm’s length…at least until I sorted myself out…” 

You stared forward. Everything seemed to click into place as you rasped, “which was why you distanced yourself from me.”

Az nodded. And he was unable to stop the sob that broke from him. “But I just ended up hurting you. And I’m so sorry.”

You couldn’t bear a second longer of it — of seeing him so crushed, so defeated. And even though you, too, were a crying mess, you found the strength to slide into his lap. To wrap your arms around him and allow him to rest his head on your shoulder.

“You should have just told me how you were feeling.” You whispered, stroking his hair. His body heaved beneath you as he cried, raw and unguarded. “I would have listened. I would have helped. I love you.”

“And I love you.” He shook. “More than I could possibly put into words. But I was so scared of losing you. And ironically, in my efforts to avoid that…I’ve come so, so close to it happening.”

You shook your head. Lifted his until he was looking at you. And it was like that, his face inches from yours, that you promised him the same thing you’d promised long ago. “You will never lose me. Ever. You are my mate, and I am yours. We love each other, when we’re happy and fine, and when we’re not. This is our life, Azriel. We can’t avoid living it in some pointless bid to outrun death.”

For a moment, he just…studied you. As if your words cleared months and months of accumulated fog and cobwebs, and helped him to see what was right in front of him. That you were right in front of him.

You had survived the war. So had he. 

The two of you deserved to live — together. 

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am. A little while ago, I started to visit Madja for help with these feelings. I knew I couldn’t go on like this.” He explained. “But I don’t — I swear to you, I never went near anybody else. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.”

And you knew that. Gods, you knew it. You almost felt foolish for even thinking it, but…you supposed, like him, you’d gotten so far inside your head, you didn’t know the way out.

One thing did linger in the back of your mind, though. Torturing you a little. You swallowed, wiping Az’s cheeks free of tears as you asked, “what of the perfume you smelled of?” 

Again, his eyes shuttered. He bowed his head slightly to touch yours. “Check my jacket pocket.”

Frowning, you paused. And then slid your hands into both pockets of the jacket you still wore. It was in the front left one that your hand enclosed around what felt like a small, glass vial. You plucked it out, tilting your head. 

“Smell it.” Az instructed softly.

Your eyes met his. And slowly, you pulled the stopper out of the vial and lifted it to your nose. 

The smell hit you immediately. That same smell — undoubtedly — that had clung to his clothes that night. A little too sweet for your liking, slightly floral…you grimaced, stoppering the little bottle once more. “What is it?” You asked. 

“Madja has been helping me to open up…to get better at voicing my thoughts and feelings.” Azriel explained quietly. “And along with that, she made me this tonic. It has soothing properties that help me slip into a state of mind ready for a more peaceful sleep. That night you smelt it on me…it was the first time she’d given it to me. I’d applied it right before I’d entered the house, because I wanted to see how well I would sleep. If I could truly get past my nightmares.”

It was your turn for your eyes to shutter then. Guilt swarmed you, brash and unwelcome. “And I ruined your sleep by starting a fight and storming out.”

Azriel’s face turned serious. “You had every right to confront me the way you did that night. I should have told you sooner what was going on. That I was seeking help. I should have avoided hurting both of us like this.”

You sighed softly, tugging him closer once more. Your strange, complicated mate…the male you loved happily and proudly.

He’d been hurting. Struggling. You should have known.

But then…you’d been hurting and struggling, too. The aftermath of war wasn’t easy for anyone. It wasn’t a case of slipping back into your old life before you’d almost perished on that battlefield. 

You’d both become chewed up and spat out by your own respective grief from that time. And instead of communicating…you’d both taken your eye off the ball. Allowed deep feelings to fester. 

Never again. Never again would you allow this to happen.

“I think we’re all a little broken from the war, Az.” You brushed his hair from his face, staring at him earnestly. “But now that we know what we’re dealing with…we can heal. Together.”

His eyes threatened to well up again. And before you could see the tears form, he was leaning forward and planting a firm kiss against your lips. “I’m so sorry.” He apologised a third time. 

“Shh. No more of that.” You whispered, rocking him. “From this moment on, we move forward.” 

His arms held you tightly against him, warmth seeping into you. You didn’t know how long you sat there for, in each other’s arms, but as a breeze whipped over you, you felt your home calling. Coaxing the two of you back.

“Let’s go home, my love.” You kissed Azriel’s forehead.

He stared at you through wet lashes. “...To our home?”

Not Amren’s apartment. Not the River House or the Town House or the House of Wind.

“Yes.” You laced your fingers through his. “To our home.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ azriel tag list:

@hanasakr @positivewitch @ruler-of-hades @brekkershadowsinger @nightscourtt @imperfect0angel @luna-1-3-5 @hyacinthoideshispanica @lucyysthings @lahoete @littlemoonash @blacksstarrynight @azriels-mate123 @ghostly-poetic @frieddesigninspiringquotesslime @a-frog-with-a-laptop @illyriansimp @morrie-rose @passingthroughfireandshadow @illyrian-dreamer @azrielsbabyg @96jnie @mich0731 @mulansaucey @truthtellerfanclub @acourtofbooksandmagic @insightsonmylife @basicbittywitty @curbside-cyanide @acourtofchaosandmess @123345566 @starrynights-frostbites @eos-princess @thesillyyogourt @ona-raising-07-l @acediahamartia @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @polli05927 @asdfjklbooks @azriel-luvr @amysangel @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @wildflowernightmere @audie-writes @aaronwarnerswifereal @starxqt @lulufairbank @laurzwrites @livelaughlovenestaarcheron @girlwith-thecinder-blockgarden @emturtles @lostpirateinwonderland @kammsinn @localhopedealerr @pee-stachio @tobifeemo @torchbearerkyle @honeycriess @shadowsingersmate24 @azziessidehoe @camillo-420 @aztheshadowsinger

[colourstreakgryffin]

*holds hands out for alms*

Reincarnation content where wife!s/o of Muzan who cared and loved him during his sickly heian days (who died either natural causes / accident, and he didn't get to appreciate her enough and is kind of an a-hole at that time) reborn as a hashira? And he stumbles upon her?

*coughs aggressively* i need bittersweet pining Muzan to cure my desperation

Wooowwww! I like this idea so much! This is actually very cool and I absolutely love this! Once again, thank you all for this incredible concepts! Muzan is quite the common powerhouse for this blog so let’s give him more attention

Kibutsuji Muzan- Loop-Around

Muzan knows those eyes too well… those beautiful, colourful eyes on a woman so pretty and loving. The flashbacks, the memories, the tragedy and the anger he feels over his past. Over his own failure and his own mistakes over what he did during Heian Era, during his life as a human. Those awful, painful drawn-out days where all he could do was sit in a bed and watch people come in and out of his room

The person who arrived the most was his assigned wife, Dokusha. A kind, patient, sophisticated woman of wealth, and she always spent so much time to take care of and love Muzan, all whilst looking around for the right medicine to cure his terminal illness. Muzan, during this time, couldn’t care less for that woman. She was just a useful tool to make him comfortable, feel validated and save his life but through the weeks, as he grew even weaker, he got real tired of waiting to be rescued by so many incompetents.

When he gotten given a type of medicine that worked, that odd concoction from a rather viable doctor you had bought in for Muzan, and when it shaped him into the first ever demon. He could finally walk for the first time in his life

And he walked out of that room… in perfect health, with razor sharp fangs, with a blood-thirst for human flesh, with his muscles clenching and strong. However, as he explored. He ended up finding something else as tragic as what he caused to his rescuer. His assigned wife mauled to death by wild Ussuri Brown bears in the forest, all whilst clearly trying to find absolutely any medicinal herbs that could possibly do anything to save Muzan

Muzan never really appreciated nor cared for Dokusha, he didn’t see her as much of a person and whilst he looked at the mangled body of that woman… he felt… almost nothing. It wasn’t disgust but it also wasn’t anger, it was just… emptiness and after that day. He suspected he would never see a human woman named Dokusha ever again, foolishly unaware of the fact he truly did love Dokusha and truly did feel a deep pit of misery-fuelled fury at her death. She did so much for him and he did nothing for her

Even after learning the fatal accident that caused her death was entirely centred around trying to recover Muzan from his birth sickness

Currently as the high and mighty Demon King, the first ever Demon in existence. Kibutsuji Muzan, has been confronted by the newest Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps in Asakusa, the Tashio Era when walking back to his ‘family’, and she has the eyes and the voice of his real wife. 10,000 years after her death, she’s back in a entirely new form and just knowing his dead wife has been reincarnated as his moral enemy is making Muzan’s undead heart throb in pain and outrage. Why does he feel this way looking into this Hashira’s eyes?

10,000 years after her death and now, Muzan has finally realised he has missed his wife so bad that he has grown desperate to see her again. He never noticed it, he always thought about locating the Blue Spider Lily and spreading over his ‘gift’ of demonicism around to every human he can find to gain the power he desires, to concur the Sun. Now, he notices how aggressive he is over the idea of love and how he is so repulsed by the six other wives he has pretended to marry throughout his life

Muzan stayed silent, blood red slit-pupiled eyes glaring at his reborn Hashira wife, taking in her features to every corner and constantly seeing glimpses and flashes of her original self… she’s so beautiful and he didn’t even notice how beautiful Dokusha actually was. How she didn’t deserve to die for his sake, if he could, he’d have ordered Dokusha to stay with him when she left upon calling that doctor in, as to save her life so then, he could have turned her into an demon too

Made her his Queen of Demons but no… he failed and now, he is beyond bittersweet. Pining, angry at his own blindness, upset he let the only woman who actually genuinely cared about him go… if he could reverse time, he would

Muzan, now, cannot bring himself to be the cause of his wife’s death once more… he can’t. He’ll just have to figure out another way to get her back, all without hurting her so before Dokusha could even think to begin attacking the Demon King with all the strength she has within that branded Nichirin Katana. Muzan fades away into the pitch black night, his glowing red eyes providing the only semblance of light for him when he retreats from that Hashira and those magnificent eyes, disappearing several streets down from her in a way she can’t track him down

He loves her

He knows he loves his wife and he can’t believe he had to wait for 10,000 years to recognise the mere fact that he did love Dokusha. Even if he didn’t know her enough to even call her a friend, her optimistic compassionate nature and the right to admire that personality was drowned out by Muzan’s own bitterness and desire to remain alive. He messed up royally with the first Dokusha, he won’t mess up with the second Dokusha

And he will make her his queen… even if it includes spending hours following the Ice Hashira around. He’ll do it and he already has a plan devised in his mind. He won’t hesitate to find some method to transform into a powerful immortal being like himself

All because he wants you back so bad

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

Comparing you to their Ex girlfriend

Kiyoomi Sakusa x Fem! reader; Atsumu Miya x Fem! Reader

Warnings: toxic behavior, swearing, Sakusa and Atsumu being big ole jerks, mention of ex’s, angst to comfort

AN: because I enjoy pain : D

Sakusa

Dating life had been pretty dull before you met MSBY’s famed spiker, Kiyoomi Sakusa. It had taken awhile to get to know him. He was a guarded and rather brass individual, not talking much to anyone outside his small circle. However after weeks of trying and being rejected, you finally were able to break thought his defensive walls. He had finally given you a chance.

Now, almost a year later, you and Kiyoomi had a well established routine. It had taken a while to figure out each other quirks, but soon you were able to function as one unit, living your lives both independently and cohesively.

However, one thing you struggled continuously to get use to was Kiyoomi’s high standards of cleanliness. No matter how hard you tried, you never were able to keep up. You knew it was a big reason why Kiyoomi and you hadn’t taken the next step in your relationship, why you hadn’t yet moved in together. It was often a topic of discussion and many times arguments. Your disagreement’s were never fully settled as you both always managed to run out of steam, knowing this was an issue that wouldn’t be quickly resolved.

You tried you hardest, watching his routine and replicating it as best as you could but it was still never enough for him. Despite all this, you loved and adored Kiyoomi and wanted nothing more than the spend the rest of your life with him.

One night, you were sitting on his couch while you watched a movie. He had been at practice all day and you had just gotten off of work. You spent most of you time at his place, knowing perfectly well that he preferred it. While it was inconvenient at times, you kept clothes and the essentials at his place to make mornings and weekends a little easier.

“They are redoing carpeting in the hallway this week,” Kiyoomi spoke as you looked at him. You knew he had been hoping management would upgrade for a while now so you were thrilled.

“I’m glad! I know you’ve wanted this for a while. You always complain about the stains and stuff so it’s good that they are finally taking notice,” you said as he hummed in agreement.

“Yeah but I’ll have to stay in a hotel for a few days because I won’t be able to have access to my apartment so that kind of sucks.”

You didn’t see this as an inconvenience but rather as an opportunity. You had been waiting to show Kiyoomi how you’ve improved your cleaning skills and you were certain that they were beyond up to his standards.

“You know, you could just stay with me?” You spoke as Kiyoomi looked at you, smiling and then chuckling. Confused, your brows furrowed as you waited for him to speak.

“No offense sweetie but I’ve seen your cleaning skills and I think I’ll take my chances at a hotel,” he laughed. You sat up, looking at him as he stared.

“Omi I’ve been working my butt off to keep my place clean. I do everything you asked and I’ve been keeping in mind the things you taught me,” you said as Kiyoomis face fell. He could tell you were serious.

“YN it’s ok. Cleaning isn’t everyone’s strong suit and it’s obviously not yours,” he replied as you stood up, offended by his words.

“I’m trying my hardest Kiyoomi! I come home, exhausted everyday and I clean. Then, instead of relaxing, I drive over here and spend my nights with you because I know you are more comfortable in your own environment!” You shout as Kiyoomi rolls his eyes m, standing up and walking past you.

“YN you are making a huge deal of this again, we’ve been over this!” He spoke going into the kitchen and plgrabbing his cleaning supplies. You knew he cleaned when he was stress, it wasn’t like his normal routine.

“Omi I’m not trying to-”

“YN just shut up ok?! Just shut up! It’s always something with you! This is always a fight and I’m sick of it! If you were half as good as Becca was at cleaning we’d already be living together!” He growled as you froze, you mouth falling slack as you body went cold. How could he? How could he bring her up? Of everything he could have said, how could he have stooped so low.

You straightened you back, tears filling your eyes as you heart began to crumble, “I’ll never be good enough for you will I Kiyoomi?” Turning on your heels, you grabbed your purse and shoes, walking out the front door.

Leaning on the counter, his anger began to grow, not at you but at himself. He couldn’t believe she had come to his mind, someone he hadn’t thought about in years. Becca had been his high school sweetheart, and he thought she was it. Unfortunately, schedules clashed and his life as a pro-volleyball superstar skyrocketed. He found less and less time for her and she had grown sick of it. Before he knew it, he had come home to an empty apartment, he spare key on the counter with a note that simply rid, “I fell out of love with you.” That was the last Tim he had seen or heard from her again. He figured she’d moved on, found someone who was worthy of her time.

The breakup had broken him in more ways than he carried to admit. He became more reclusive, pulling away from friends and family. He got in the habit of being alone, functioning without someone at his side. That all changed when he met you. You were gorgeous, funny and so outgoing. He immediately found himself attracted to you but he was scared, scare of his heart being broken again, scared he would lose something so precious.

You continued to peruse him, despite his desperate attempts to keep you away. He wanted to be with you, wanted to move on but his fear of being left alone was paralyzing. Finally, he relented and went on a date with you. Soon one turned into two and then three and then six. Your relationship happened effortlessly and he enjoyed every minute of it. He knew he loved you, knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you but he was afraid to make that next step so he kept you at bay with his ridiculous cleaning demands. He knew they were outrageous and over the top but they protected him, they protected his heart.

He stood there, once again in silence as his breathe began to hitch. He had done it again, he had driven the person he lived away. His arms fell to his side as he reached for his phone. He pulled up your contact information and hit the dial button.

The phone rang and rang as you ignored it. You knew Kiyoomi was calling but you couldn’t bare speaking to him, you curled up in your freshly made bed as your tears overwhelmed you. The pain of her name imprinted on your brain as you sobbed.

Kiyoomi had told you about Becca, he had told you why she had left. You knew he was guarded and you were determined to do whatever you could to fix it. You hated how broken he was, how he felt he couldn’t trust anyone. It was a big reason as to why you worked your hardest to live up to his standards, thinking maybe, just maybe, he would let his guard down.

“You’re such an idiot Yn,” you cried as you covered your head up and sobbed deeply.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Atsumu answered as Kiyoomi stood in his kitchen, taking his hand down his face. He had messed up and in a bad way.

“I really fucked update with Yn Sumu. She left and I don’t think she’s coming back,” he murmured into the phone.

“What happened? Did she finally have enough of your bullshit demands?” Atsumu laughed as Kiyoomi sighed.

“We got into a fight because she wanted to me stay with her while my apartment was getting some work done. I thought she was joking but she wasn’t and I kind of threw Becca in her face.”

“You did what??? You asshole!” Atsumu shouted as Kiyoomi pulled the phone away from his ear, “I mean come on dude, YN has been dealing with your bullshit for almost a year now! She does everything you ask of her and all she wants is for you to see that. I think she’s more than shown you she can handle your ridiculous standards dude. Plus she’s probably the most patient woman I’ve ever seen. I mean, literally dealing with you is just as bad as emo Bokuto!”

Kiyoomi didn’t answer because he knew what Atsumu was saying was true. He knew his standards were high and that in a lot of ways, they were just a guard.

“You know she loves you right? She’s not going anywhere Omi. She chased you down for months and she’s stood by you for almost a year, she’s not leaving dude,” Atsumu spoke softly as a tear rolled down kiyoomi’s cheek.

“I think I need to talk to her,” he responded as he heard Atsumu mutter an “mmhmm” before hanging up. He grabbed his keys, locking up before making his way to your apartment.

You groaned as the knocking on your door became obsessive. You had absolutely no intention on answering the door in the state you were in but the person had continued to knock for well over 20 minutes.

With mascara running down your cheeks and you hair in disarray, you made your way to the front door, checking the peephole before opening it.

You saw Kiyooni on the other side, looking visibly upset. Unlocking the door, you swung it open as the smell of cleaning products wafted, hitting his nose smack in the face.

“What do you want?” You growled as Kiyoomi stood there taking you in. You looked like you had been crying, no doubt because of him and his actions. Your face was flush and your hair a complete disaster. Still, you looked absolutely breathtaking to him.

“Can-can I come in?” He questioned, rubbing the back of his head as you turned and headed towards the living room.

“Take your shoes off at least,” you said as Kiyoomi looked around. Your apartment was immaculately kept, everything clean and in its place. Dare he say, it may have even been cleaner than his own place.

Having slipped his shoes off, he headed to the couch. You had sat in the arm chair, indicating you didn’t want to be close to him. He couldn’t really blame you for that.

“I can to apologize Yn. I’m really sorry for everything I said, for how hard I’ve been on you. Honestly, I don’t have an excuse at this point. I’ve been a complete asshole to you. I’ve set my standards and walls so high that I was sure you’d never reach them and every time you did, it kind of freaked me out. I was scared of losing you like I lost her. I was scared of how much I loved you and how much I came to need you in my life. I know you don’t have to forgive me and I don’t expect you too but I just wanted you to know how sorry I am and how much I really do love you.”

Tears fell as you listened to him speak. You knew he was guarded but this was a whole new level. Tears streamed down your cheeks as your eyes met his, “I love you Kiyoomi and all I’ve ever tried to do was show you that. I know how important volleyball is to you and what happened with your ex but I’m not her. I’m not going to to fall out of love with you because your passionate about volleyball.”

Kiyoomi watched you as tears fell, he knew you were being sincere and that you cared for him. He stood up, walking over to you and kneeling in front of you, “YN, I love you and I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I said those things and pushed you away. I’m sorry I ever gave you a chance or agreed to come stay with you. I shouldn’t have compared you to her. There is nothing to compare Yn, I love you so so much more than I ever loved her and I hope you can find it in your heart o forgive me.”

You smiled softly as you hand went to rest on his cheek, whiling a stray tear as it flowed down, “I forgive you Kiyoomi and I love you so much.”

Atsumu

Your relationship with Atsumu was an interesting one. When you first met him, you thought he was rather arrogant and annoying, not usually someone you’d date. However the more you got to know him, the more he grew on you, leading to your now 6 month long relationship. Sure it had its ups and downs but you were so in love with the un-toned blonde setter.

Atsumu and you both had extreme personalities, which was a double edged sword in your relationship. You both were extremely passionate and loving towards each other but when you fought, oh boy was it a show.

You didn’t fight a lot, usually only when things got serious or you got annoyed with his normal stupidity. You both had separate lives, somehow managing to cohesively combine them to fit each other.

Both being workaholics, you struggled sometimes to find time for each other. Atsumu was at the gym for long hours and you were at your office for equally as long but you always made weekly dates and kept your relationship fresh.

This week, it was your turn to plan your weekly date. Unfortunately for you, you’d been not only extremely run down at work but your period had just started and you weren’t feeling the best. You decided that it would be ok to keep it low key for one week since you usually always went all out. You’d order take out and watch a movie, it was simple but you knew the point of date was to spend time with your man.

When Sumu came home, he noticed you in your pajama’s chilling on the couch as you smiled at him. He looked at you, confused as to why you weren’t ready to go out. “Uh babe, we have date night tonight remember?” He said, removing his shoes and setting his bag down. He had been busy at the gym, exhausted from all the extra work he had been putting in. He was looking forward to going out, enjoying the town and spending time with his girl.

“I thought we could switch things up once! I was going to order take out and figured we could rent a movie,” you smiled as his face fell. You looked at him as he stared at you, wondering why his expression had all of a sudden turned sour

“Babe we always go out. I was looking forward to not being at home,” he complained as you stood up, walking over to him. You could tell he was growing agitated but maybe if you explained then he’d be ok.

“Sumu, I’m dead tired and my period came today-”

“Ok so take a midol or something! We can still go out Yn. You aren’t the only one on this relationship you know!?” he shouted as you reeled. What the actual fuck?

“Sumu what the hell?!? I planned a nice night in because I don’t feel well and you tell me to just take some pills and get over it?”

“It honestly sounds like you were just being lazy Yn. It’s not like it takes that much effort to make reservations or put a little makeup on. I mean you do it everyday for your coworkers so you should be able to do it for your boyfriend!” He shouted as you began growing angry.

“Well I’m fucking sorry for having a uterus Sumu! Heaven forbid I ever fucking inconvenience you with my bleeding and exhaustion but oh wait, I forgot, I’m not perfect like you!” You screamed back as he glared.

“You know, Layla never bothered me with shit like this Yn, she knew exactly what I wanted and she never argued with me!” He spat as you stared at him, mouth agape.

How fucking dare he bring her up? Layla, his perfect ex girlfriend who was a model and absolutely drop dead gorgeous. He knew bringing up her was a low blow and he didn’t even care.

“Well then, why don’t you go back to Layla then if I’m such an inconvenience,” you murmured, standing your ground.

“Maybe I will!” He shouted, grabbing his gym bag, slipping his shoes on and walking out the front door.

It took a moment, just a minute to sink in before your whole world came crashing down. Your hands flew to your mouth as you began to shake, tears threatening to spill as you quickly turned and headed to the bedroom.

You cried as you grabbed your overnight bag and began throwing clothes in it. You couldn’t believe he had said that. How could he possibly stoop so low. Of all the people, why did it have to be her? Your chest stung as you leave with the bare minimum, throwing your purse over your shoulder and grabbing your keys as you frantically made your way to the front door.

You had to get out of here, you couldn’t stay here. Not in this place, not surrounded by pictures of the two of you and definitely not as the afterburn of her name hit you. The thought of him seeking her out to comfort him chipped away at your heart, you couldn’t stomach the thought of Atsumu being with her again.

You turned, looking around one last time before leaving. The tears fell, gathering on your clothes and shoes. The heartbreak you were feeling immeasurable.

Groaning, Atsumu sat in his car thinking about the fight over and over again. He was pissed, fuming actually but surprising, it wasn’t at you. He only had himself to be angry at. He knew he overreacted, knew you didn’t deserve the shouting match he started.

He sighed, getting out of his car and knocking on his brothers door. Osamu answered, giving his twin a weird look.

“I thought tonight was date night?”

“YN and I had a fight,” he spoke as Osamu rolled his eyes.

“Of course you did,” he responded moving out of the way, “what happened in paradise now?”

“Well it was suppose to be date night and instead of planning a date, she decided it would be ok for us to just have takeout and watch a movie,” Atsumu reiterated as Samu stared at him.

“Ok and what’s wrong with that?”

“I wanted to go out but she said she wasn’t feeling good, her period or something. So I suggested she take midol-”

“Bro you didn’t?” Samu spoke, eyes widening as Atsumu stared at him.

“I mean, I guess it was kind of rude but dude I want to go out, I want to do stuff!”

“Ok but maybe Yn wasn’t feeling good. Date nights aren’t about going out, it’s about spending time together,” Samu replied.

“Yeah I guess so,” Atsumu said, thinking back to the conversation, “fuck I said something else too. Something kind of mean.”

Osamu looked at him as Atsumu raked his hands through his hair, “what did you say?”

“Fuck- I fuck! I compared her to Layla,” Sumu said, collapsing on his brothers couch.

“You compared Yn, sweet Yn, to that cunt? Dude she was such a fucking bitch and she cheated on you! What the fuck is wrong with you?” Osamu shouted as Atsumu sat down, hands going straight to his hair.

“I know I know man! Fuck I was just so upset about not going out and I- I guess I overreacted.”

“You think? God Sumu you are so stupid! YN is literally the best thing that ever happened to you! Do you realize how fucking annoying you are to deal with? How much YN puts up with? Do you remember when you found out Layla was cheating? God you were the literal worst! Sakusa, heck even Meian, couldn’t handle you!” Atsumu’s hands went down to his knees as he contemplated everything he had been through.

Atsumu had been single for almost a year when he had first laid eyes on you. After Layla had cheated, he had stuck to mostly one night stands. While they weren’t in short supply, he missed the connection of having someone to care for and love.

The first time he saw you was at a bar, dressed in a skin tight outfit he couldn’t remove from his mind. His plans for you started out like all his other plans but immediately changed when you flatly turned him down. He’ll never forget the look you gave him and the giggle followed by the words, “not in your lifetime big guy.” Those words, the look you gave him were definitely what first attracted him to you and after chasing you for months, he finally wore you down enough for a date.

He was utterly broken after his ex had left, crushed by the weight of feeling not good enough. He didn’t want that to ever happen again which is why he kept all potential flings at a distance m, never bringing them to his apartment and never bothering to learn their names, but when you came into his life, that all changed. He learned that he could love again and that not all women were like Layla.

Atsumu stood up, walking to Osamu’s door and exiting. He knew exactly what he needed to do. He needed to grovel at your feet, beg for forgiveness and pray that you’d find it in your amazing heart to forgive him.

Arriving at your shared apartment, he ran upstairs grabbing the door handle and pushing it, only it was locked. His eyes widened as he again pushed on the knob. Why was the door locked? Did you not expect him to come home tonight? The words hit him like a ton of bricks.

“Well then maybe you should go back to Layla!”

“Maybe I will!”

“Shit shit!” He whispered as he quickly grabbed his keys and unlocked the door, pushing in as fast as he could. The apartment was dark and quiet, something he wasn’t use to.

“YN!! YN!! Baby where are you?!”

He searched the entire apartment, frantically looking for any sign of you. He stopped, his breathe hitching as his mind wandered to the worst.

“No no! Please tell me she didn’t!?” He yelled, running to the closet in your bedroom and throwing it open. The blood drained from his face and his eyes began to water as he slowly backed up. Your suitcase was gone, some of your clothes also.

Scrambling quickly, he ran to his phone on the counter and quickly found your number. “Come on baby, pick up!” He whispered.

“Hello?” You answered, somber in tone and sounding like you had been crying.

“Baby? Oh thank god! Where are you? I came home and you were gone, I was so worried!” He sighed, feeling a little relieved that you actually answered his call.

“Why don’t you go back to Layla? I’m sure she can console you!” You spat as Atsumu whinced. Ok, he deserved that, he definitely deserved that.

“Baby, listen I just want to talk ok? I know I fucked up and I’m so sorry Yn. I know I overreacted and I know my words don’t makeup for what I said but I love you Yn. You are the one I want, the one who helped me to trust again. Please Yn, baby come home,” Atsumu sobbed as you sighed.

“I’m sorry Sumu but I’m not going to come home tonight or for a while. What you said was so hurtful and low. You didn’t think of anyone but yourself Sumu. I told you I wasn’t feeling well, that I was exhausted and you told me to take some medicine and suck it up! Then on top of that, you threw her fucking name in my face! You don’t know how fucking much that shattered me Sumu,” you cried, sucking in a breath as Atsumu listened. He knew he fucked up but this was by far the worst he’d ever messed up.

“Princess please, I know- I know I’m a fucking asshole and I should have never ever brought her up, I was mad and I let me anger get the better of me. Just please, please can we talk about this?” He pleaded into the phone, tears running down his cheeks.

“I’ll talk to you later Sumu,” you sighed, hanging up as Atsumu collapsed to his knees, his body shaking as he tried to process everything. You were gone, really gone.

The next morning, your phone rang as you sighed, bracing for another phone call from Atsumu. You picked up the phone, looking at the caller id as your brows furrowed.

“Hello?” You said as Osamu’s voice filled the receiver.

“Hey Yn, uh I’m really sorry to bother you but Sakusa just called me, Atsumu didn’t show up for practice today. I can’t leave the restaurant right now or I’d go check on him but I was wondering if you were with him?”

You breathe stopped, your mind functioning of auto pilot as you raced from your hotel room to your car.

“YN is everything ok?” Osamu said sounding more panicked.

“I- I left Samu! I left him alone! Oh god, Samu I was so hurt by what he said! I got a hotel room and he called me last night. He told me how sorry he was and I told him I needed time! Oh my god what if something happened to him!”

You were sobbing as your tires squealed, your foot hitting the floor as you peeled out of the hotel parking lot. The tears rolled down your face as you heart sped up, your brain automatically going to the worst possible scenario.

“YN calm down ok? I’m sure he’s fine! Please don’t do anything irrational right now,” Sumu spoke, trying to calm you.

You couldn’t answer as you speed to your apartment, parking and throwing open the car door. You left Osamu shouting into your phone as you as you quickly raced to the door.

Ramming into your front door, you threw it open and we’re greeted with Atsumu standing there, staring at you.

“YN what the hell? Are you ok?” he said as you through your body into his, bracing as you sobbed into his chest.

“Osamu called me and said that you didn’t show up to practice! I thought about our conversation last night and oh god Sumu!” You cried into his chest as his arms wrapped around you, holding you close and rubbing your back.

“Baby, hey it’s ok. I’m ok? I texted Meian and told him I needed a day off. I just couldn’t get you off my mind and the thought of even trying to push you out just hurt,” he said, hugging you tight as his eyes began to well with tears.

“Baby I’m so so fucking sorry! I can’t believe I was so selfish. I know I don’t deserve you but YN, I love you more than anything. You are it for me, the only thing I ever want.”

You pulled back, eyes softening as you quickly placed a kiss on Atsumu’s lips, “Sumu what you said was mean and hurtful and you are the biggest jerk ever but I love you so much and the thought of losing you well, it crushed me more than anything.”

“I promise Yn, I’ll be better for you,” he smiled, leaning down and taking your lips once again.

[adventuringblind]

Two Things to Celebrate

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Genre: fluffyyyyyyy

Summary: Reader gets sick during the race weekend. When she comes to congratulate Oscar on his race the next day, he finds out there is more to celebrate than just a good result.

Warnings: talks of sickness and pregnancy. Mentions of sex. Not proofread... *Snape impression* obviously.

Request: Yes, I'm here for it, I didn't know I needed this in my life until now. Also, requests are open. Specifically for Max, Charles, Lando, Oscar, and possibly Danny Ricc.

Notes: written in second. This is out of my comfort zone.... much better at writing angsty things me thinks XD

Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated!

Masterlist

Oscar is the gentleman that everyone expects him to be. He opens the door for you. Buys you flowers on random occasions. He had pratically given you the role of passenger princess (not that you protested).

You, on the other hand, got the privilege of knowing that he is not always a gentleman. The side of Oscar that was only for those close to him.

He doesn't like showing his more vulnerable emotions to everyone. Lando, who had recently gotten close to Oscar, was shocked when he started yelling in frustration.

You knew there needed to be some reprive for him. The season had started off terribly. Often leaving Oscar in shambles after races.

He'd be calm for that camera. Always trying to find the positives of the weekend. Then found himself breaking down at home.

You hated seeing him like that.

Depending on the mood, you would simply listen and run your fingers through his hair. Other times, you distracted him with a nice meal and a movie of some sort.

When he was angry, though, you found yourself letting him use your body for reprieve. Letting out his pent up frustration and adrenaline from frustrating weekends became part of the routine during the season. Sometimes getting so frustrated with his results that you let him have his way with you for hours.

You two didn't think much of it. The sex was great, and the aftercare care even better. The thought of a second form of contraception not crossing either of your minds. You were on the pill and thought it would be enough.

That's probably the reason you got yourself here.

You were in Silverstone with Oscar. Both of you keep your fingers crossed that the car upgrades work as well for him as they did for Lando. It was killing you waiting for Q3 to start.

Maybe it was anxiety for Oscar, but you hadn’t been feeling the best for a few weeks now. You’d assumed it was just because of everything going on. Today seemed to worse then any other. The nausea becoming increasingly overwhelming.

Drinking water was only helping the pain so much. You needed it though. You are determined to watch Oscar finish. It was his first time getting into Q3 and you wanted to be ready and cheering with him when he came back. Whether he was tenth or not didn’t matter, he’s driving brilliantly which is always something to be excited about.

Then the feeling caught up to you. Quickly having to excuse yourself and find the nearest restroom. Only to to feel the water you had been drinking burning up your throat.

The feeling didn’t stop either. Your body deciding to continue ridding itself of whatever was in your stomach. Meaning that you spent the rest of Q3 locked in the restroom. Forced to watch from your phone.

You burst into tears when Oscar qualified third. Sobbing like a maniac over how proud of him you are. The suddenness of it making you keel over again.

Oscar got back to the garage as fast as possible. He couldn’t wait to find you thank you for having so match faith in him. Maybe he would take for a nice dinner to celebrate.

When he got there, however, you were nowhere to be seen. He knows you wouldn’t just leave without saying something, but where would you have gone?

He finally started asking anyone who would have been with in the garage with you. Eventually getting his answer.

He approached the bathroom door and knocked gently.

“Are you alright, love” Oscar wasn’t sure what had happened so he tried to keep his voice calm.

“It’s not locked I don’t thing.” He heard you rasp from the other side. Immediately he tried the handle to find that it is indeed not locked. He pushes the door open revealing your body barely able to hold itself up agains the wall. You were trying to stand on shaky legs but smiling excitedly and him nonetheless less.

You were grateful when Oscar came to help up upright. “I’m so proud of you.” You sobbed.

Oscars mix of emotions overwhelmed him. He had questions and concern for your well being but was smiling and embracing with joy.

Finally coming down from the high, he is able to address the current situation. His eyes scanned over you body and face. Particularly noting how your eyes are puffy and your cheeks shiny from tears. “Are you ok.” He finally managed to get out.

“Yes, I’m just not feeling the greatest. I think I might of picked something up.” Your throat still hurt from dry heaving leaving your voice broken.

Oscar move you to the side of him so he could help you walk out. “Lets get you home then.”

“But don’t you want to celebrate?”

“We can do that at home, in bed with tea to help you get well.”

Oscar bid farewell to the team. Telling Zak that it was urgent he get you home.

Being the gentleman he is, Oscar got you changed and into bed. He then decided soft foods were necessary incase you got sick again.

“Aren’t you worried you’ll get sick also?” You ask.

Oscar just smiles and crawls into bed with you. “And give up a cozy movie night? Never.”

You wonder for a moment how you got so lucky. Almost crying again at the thought. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to celebrate with you.”

Oscar whips his head around to look at you. An exaggerated look of shock plastered on his face. “Don’t you dare apologize for getting sick because you know it’s out of your control.” He pulls you into him and threads his fingers through your hair. “I do think you should go to the doctors in the morning though.” He admits.

Night came and went to quickly. Hating that you and Oscar had to say goodbye and go your separate ways. You’d taken his advice and decided to see a doctor just in case it was something more serious since you’d not been feeling well for a long while now.

A month ago you’d contracted an infection and had to be put on antibiotics. It was miserable but you thought you were on the mend. Seems you were mistaken.

The waiting was killing you. It had taken so long that you had to call Oscar to wish him luck then watching the race from your phone. It hurt you because you have a feeling it’s going to go amazing for him.

Finally after some tests, the doctor came in with the results.

“Congratulations,” she smiled. “You’re pregnant!”

Your fall falls open in shock. How did this happen? We’re you ready for this? You and Oscar had mentioned kids in the future but would he be ok with now? Your mind reels with emotion. Tears again in the verge of spilling. “How?” Was the only question you managed to get out.

“Well birth control doesn’t always work, and you had an infection recently correct?” She asks. You nod your head in response, slightly confused at the correlation. “Antibiotics negate the effects of birth control.” She explains.

Realization settles into your stomach. How could you not have know that? You mentally smack yourself for being stupid.

You thank the doctor and quickly get into your car. There is still time before the race ends and you’re determined to be there.

The drive goes by in a blur, listening to the race going as you drove. Getting slightly frustrated with the unlucky safety car but happy that Oscar was still up in fourth.

You finally got parked and practically sprinted to the McLaren garage. Just in time for the last few minutes. Everyone cheering wildly at the boys placing second and fourth.

When Oscar was finally able to get back to the garage after doing some interviews, he was not expecting to have you jumping into his arms.

He spins you in the air as you two embrace each other. “I’m so proud of you.” You smile at him. He only hugs you tighter and mumbles like ‘thank you’s into your skin.

When he sets you down, he looks relived. “Good news from the doctor then?” His eyebrows lift in curiosity.

“More like interesting news.” You immediately find that it’s much harder to tell him then you thought. Playing with the sleeves on your shirt instead of looking at him.

Oscar is immediately filled with concern again at your sudden change of emotion. “Whatever it is love, we’ll get through it.” He cradles you face in his hands. Gently coaxing you into communicating with him.

You inhale deeply, steeling yourself for whatever reaction he might have. “I’m pregnant.”

You find his eyes and search for any sign of anger or disappointment. Only to be met with an ear to ear grin. “I’m gonna be a dad?!”

Oscar picks you up and spins you again. “I guess we have more then one thing to celebrate tonight!” He shouts. The rest of the garage now staring at the two lovebirds. “I have to tell Lando. He’s going to be thrilled.”

You giggle at the relationship between the two boys. They’d gotten so close through all the struggles this season. Thankfully it didn’t take you long to find him. Not like it was that hard considering he is wearing neon yellow.

Oscar almost tackles him into a hug. Lando laughing at him, not having see this side of the Australian yet. “What’s going on with you.” He laughs. “The adrenaline getting to your head?”

Oscar makes a quick recovery and catches his breath. “I have to tell you something.” His smile so large it might come off his face. “We’re expecting.”

Lando stares between you two for a moment. Processing what he just heard. Before finally he shouts in happiness for you. “Oh my gosh this is amazing!” He smiles and throws his hand up. “I call being the godfather. I called it first so you can’t say no.”

You laugh at his antics. Both boys now coming back to you with cheery words.

As you and Oscar went home that night, you realize just how much you love each other. It might not have been what either of you planned, but neither of you would have it any other way.

[liketolovexx]

Can I pls request some really fluffy headcanons about married life with lupin pls?❤️‍🩹 maybe with a reader who can’t keep her hands off him (but in a fluffy way, like she just likes to feel him near, so there’s a lot of hand holding, holding onto his arm, hugging/cuddling, etc.) and he doesn’t complain bc he’s a big sweetheart and is exactly the same.

Thank you so much💞💕

Ofc u can my love!!! Sorry it took me a while to get to this, Here u go <3

Married life headcanons ~ R.J.L

Sometimes, after marriage, couples get sick of each other and get less and less affectionate as time goes on. That did NOT happen with you and Remus. I think I’ve said before that Remus is hesitant to cuddle anyone at first, the only people he trusts being Sirius, James and Peter.

I imagine that when Remus began to trust you, it was also the moment he solidified in his mind that he was going to marry you some day. It was after a full moon, his body sore and broken, James was getting a little bit too boisterous, and you snapped at him with a protective tone Remus had never heard you use before. Your hand was on his thigh, and he swore he felt his brain turn into mush. That was when he knew. Sirius was the only one who noticed the changing sparkle in his vacant eyes. He smirked knowingly, watching his best friend’s uncharacteristically wide eyes envision his future with you.

I think after the wedding, you two slept together. It was passionate, and he kept growling “mine..” over and over. Even the wolf in him claimed you as his and his only. The boy was in love. You fell asleep slumped over his chest while he used one hand to hold his book and one to pet your hair. Once he finished reading, he spent 20 minutes or so gazing at your peacefully sleeping form. You looked like an angel; you were an angel in his eyes. Tears glided down the scarred apples of his cheeks, and he didn’t even bother to wipe them away. He vowed to look after you always: you were his now. Always.

He didn’t fail to notice your everyday clinginess. It overwhelmed him at first, not being used to physical affection at all, but soon, he found himself seeking it out. When you sat beside him on the sofa, if you weren’t immediately all over him, he soon learned to shuffle closer to you until you gave in and smothered him. One of your arms was always wrapped around him. Your pinkie was always linked with his. If it wasn’t that, it was your hands. You loved to always be touching him. He swears he falls in love again every time you cuddle up to him to fall asleep.

He really is just a big sap. One night, you agreed to a movie night with the marauders, and couldn’t hold back from nuzzling under Remus’s chin again. He pet your back, unable to hold back his lovesick smirk. “God, can you two tone down the PDA?” Sirius joked with a huge teasing grin. “Wait, no, let me join in.” He said, leaping into the cuddle and nuzzling his head into Remus’s neck on the other side. “Hey! Stop trying to steal my boyfriend, pads!” You cried, swatting at him with a genuine smile. “Hey, hey! Watch the hair, girl!” He yelps, jumping up, laughing. Remus just sits there, grinning and thinking that if he died right now, he’d die happy.

All of the trauma and turmoil he’d endured in his painful lifetime, all of it was worth this sense of safety, happiness and satisfaction that this all gave him. He had his best friends brothers, he had you.

He had you. Remus Lupin was satisfied with the outcome of his life, and with you and Sirius bickering in the background, James laughing, a smile splitting Remus’ beautiful features, he prayed nothing would ever change again.

~~~

(Please don’t copy any of my work or paste it onto other platforms!)

[zebulontheplanet]

For a long time, I didn’t feel welcomed within the physical disability community and the cripplepunk community. As someone who is mad, and is higher support needs, it’s a constant struggle with dealing with people who truly don’t understand. My physical disabilities disable me. They are hard to deal with, but my mental and developmental disabilities also disable me. Like, a lot. As an intellectually disabled person, I felt like I couldn’t be apart of these communities because I didn’t understand the politics of it. Because I couldn’t read large articles and journals, and books about disability politics and history.

It was for awhile, unnerving. I for awhile didn’t even identify as crippled, even though my physical disabilities did very much cripple me. I am now a wheelchair user, and before that I was a forearm crutch user.

There is so much…pressure? To be more disabled. Kinda like the disability Olympics that everyone talks about. To be more in pain, to have more conditions, to be more sick. That wasn’t me. Although I am very much suffering and do have several conditions, my life isn’t spent inside of a hospital or doctors offices (although that was my life for awhile). I am very lucky that for now, my health is pretty stable. My life is pretty neutral now. And for awhile, that made me feel very icky. Like I wasn’t enough. Like I wasn’t disabled enough.

I quickly, and more recently realized, that my life is so atypical from an able bodied persons life. I constantly am doing things differently and having to do things that are not the norm, just because I am physically disabled. Hanging and talking to able bodied people made me realize JUST how disabled I am. That isn’t bad. It just took a bit of time to realize that.

Now, I do identify as disabled, and crippled, and apart of the crippledpunk community. It took me a long time though.

For all my young physically disabled people, you don’t owe anyone anything. You’re disabled enough. You ARE enough. Take it one day at a time and you got this. There is room for all of us, and this isn’t the disability Olympics.