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#toilet checks used to be every hour
omtai · 1 year
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Uou want me to mop. Oh i’ll fucking mop all right!!!!!!!
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sinkovia · 4 months
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Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem!Reader
Angst
Your hands tremble as you sit on the toilet, the pregnancy test resting on the edge of the sink. The seconds felt like hours as you checked the timer on your phone, anxiously waiting for the result. Thirty seconds left. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart.
The alarm on your phone went off, and with shaky hands, you picked up the test and flipped it over. The two little lines were unmistakable. You were pregnant. It was the third test you had taken, and the outcome remained the same. You were going to have a baby. You began to sob into your hands, overwhelmed by the weight of the situation.
Having a baby and raising a child in your line of work seemed impossible. It would require you to retire, to give up the life you had always known. Your mind raced, realizing you would need to tell Ghost.
But you couldn't bring yourself to do it just yet. You had asked him countless times to retire, to settle down, to start a family together. But he clung to the military life, holding onto it tighter than he would ever hold onto you.
The thought of having a family and settling down somewhere safe was something you had always yearned for, but you couldn't do it without him. You couldn't imagine having an absent husband or father, always fearing if he would make it home or not.
You knew Ghost's attachment to the military life ran deep. For the last three years, you had tried to reason with him, to convince him to retire. You had asked countless times, sat him down and begged him to hear you out, but he always refused. Each time, it was the same answer – he wasn't ready to retire.
His attachment to the military life was unwavering, and it felt as if he had never truly considered your feelings. It was always about him and what he wanted. You were both in your mid-thirties, and you couldn't keep waiting for him to come around. You needed more than the life you were leading, a family to call your own.
With resolve, you wrapped the pregnancy tests in layers of toilet paper and buried them deep in the trash can. Leaving the bathroom, you sat on your bed, checking the time. Ghost was likely finishing up his work out in the gym, he would be back soon.
You contemplated what you were going to say, knowing that you needed to have a serious conversation with him. It was either he retires with you, or you retire alone and move on with your life.
You had reached your limit, and you couldn't keep sacrificing your own dreams and desires for his career. As you heard the door open, you looked up, seeing Ghost walk into your shared room. He sighed and lay down next to you in bed, unaware of the life-altering decision you were on the verge of making.
You felt a sense of frustration building up in you. You had been wanting this for years, and every time you brought it up, it felt like hitting a brick wall. As you sat there, the look on your face showed the hopelessness you were feeling. He knew what you were about to say, Ghost could see it in your eyes, and he was exhausted.
His patience wore thin, and he snapped, his voice raised and sharp. "Damn it y/n, not this again! How many times do I have to tell you, the answer is no!" he snapped, his patience wearing thin. "I'm not ready to retire, and I've explained this to you countless times."
His outburst was jarring, and you weren't used to seeing Ghost like this. He had always been the calm and collected one, but now he was angry and frustrated. His voice carried the weight of his decision.
"Simon. I want a family, a home. I need something more than this. I've been asking you for years, and I thought maybe—" he cut you off, his voice raising.
"You thought maybe what? That this time I'd change my mind? After everything we've been through?"
His frustration became evident. His normally stoic expression twisted into one of anger and exasperation. He'd had enough of the repeated requests and the agony of constantly having to deny them.
"I just thought—"
"Well, don't! I don't want to retire, and that's final.”
"But I thought we could finally start a family and—"
"No! I've told you, I'm not ready for that, and I don't want to talk about it anymore. I've got a job to do, and I'm going to do it."
You were about to speak again, he cut you off with a yell, "Enough! I've had enough of this conversation. When I come back from my next mission in two days, I want you to stop bringing this up. This is the last time we're going to have this conversation."
He turned away from you and walked out of the room, leaving you standing there tears streaming down your face. Your heart ached, and you knew that this was a battle you were never going to win.
Ghost was determined to keep living the life he had chosen, and you were left with the painful realization that the future you had always dreamed of with him was never going to come.
As soon as Ghost left on his mission, you knew you had to tell Price about your pregnancy and your decision to retire. Price offered his congratulations, assuming that Ghost would retire too. However, you explained the situation, revealing that Ghost didn't know about your pregnancy, and you didn't want Price to be the one to tell him.
Price took a deep breath, his brow furrowing as he processed the information. "Why didn't you tell him you were pregnant? I'm sure he would have retired if he knew," concern evident in his voice. You looked from Price down to your hands, your expression heavy with emotions.
"I wanted him to retire for me," you admitted, your voice soft and filled with vulnerability. "I wanted to be enough for him to want to leave all of this behind."
Price nodded and got up from his chair, walking over to you and bringing you into a comforting hug. Your arms wrapped around him, and as the tears began to flow, you found solace in his support.
"I promise I'll keep your secret. I won't tell him," Price assured you as he held you close. You sniffled against his chest and managed to choke out a heartfelt thank you.
The rest of the day was spent packing your belongings. You didn't have much to take with you, mainly cargo pants, plain t-shirts, and a few off-duty clothes. You were planning to donate most of them.
The only sentimental items you packed were your favorite mug and a few personal belongings. You left behind everything that had to do with Ghost in a small box, including photos, his old dog tags, plushies, and matching bracelets. The box sat on the small dining room table with a note on top of it.
In the note, you explained that it was indeed the last time you guys would ever have that conversation. He was either going to retire or you were going to leave. His decision was final and so was yours, you couldn't wait any longer.
You told him that you were starting the life you had always begged him for, and you asked him not to go looking for you. He could live the life he desired, and you would live yours.
As you left the base for the last time and headed to the airport, your heart was a mix of anticipation and nostalgia. You were on a flight back to your home country of Iceland, ready to embark on a new chapter of your life.
You had settled into a cute apartment in Reykjavik, a temporary residence while you figured out where your forever home would be. The view from your apartment window showcased the picturesque landscape.
Your hand gently rested on your stomach. The thought of holding your bundle of joy in your arms brought a radiant smile to your face. It was a promise of a future filled with love and happiness, something you had yearned for for so long.
As you gazed out the window towards the setting sun, the horizon bathed in the soft hues of twilight, you felt a profound sense of contentment and hope. You were finally on the path to having the life you had always dreamt of.
Ghost arrived back on the military base, his fatigue weighing heavily on him after the long and grueling mission. As he made his way down the familiar corridor towards your shared room, a sense of guilt gnawed at his conscience. He loved you, there was no doubt about that, and now the argument he had with you was finally catching up to him.
He couldn't shake the feeling that he had been too harsh on you. Your desire to settle down and start a family was something that should have brought joy to both of your lives, but he had been stubborn, refusing to hear you out. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he had kept you waiting for three long years.
He cursed under his breath, berating himself for being such a terrible boyfriend to you. You had never asked for much, always there for him when he needed you, and he couldn't even hear you out about something that meant the world to you.
Ghost decided that it was time to right his wrongs, to sit down and have a serious conversation with you about retiring. You had sacrificed so much for him during your time together, and now it was his turn to make a sacrifice for you.
As he unlocked the door to your shared room and walked in, ready to call out to you, he was met with a chilling sight. The room was dark and unwelcoming, a stark contrast to its usual warmth and coziness.
Ghost's heart sank, and he slowly moved through the room, calling your name. He went into the bathroom, but you weren't there. He stepped back into the main area and noticed the box on the dining table.
Slowly, he picked up the note, and his eyes moved slowly over the words, each line delivering a devastating blow to his heart. It was your handwriting, and the words were filled with finality.
With a heavy heart, he slumped into a chair, reading the note a second and third time. He didn't want to believe the words he was reading, but the truth was inescapable. Regret washed over him like a tidal wave, and his heart ached as he realized the gravity of his mistakes.
He hadn't taken you seriously, and now he had lost the love of his life because of his stubbornness and blindness to your needs. Tears welled up in his eyes as he sat in the darkness of the room that once represented your shared life, reflecting on the choices he could have made differently. If only he had realized sooner.
6 years later...
After a tip from Laswell, Ghost had spent six long years searching the streets of Iceland, ignoring your plea for him not to look for you. He was determined to speak with you, to make things right, even though he knew it was a long shot. He had realized too late the mistakes he had made, and now he was left with a deep regret that gnawed at his soul.
As he wandered the streets, it was as if he was retracing his own regrets, his footsteps echoing the path he should have taken years ago. And then, one fateful day, as he strolled down a street next to a park, his heart dropped.
His eyes found you, disbelief washing over him as he watched a man lean down and kiss your cheek. Your laughter rang in his ears, and his gaze fell on the toddler hugging your leg. A stroller stood nearby, a baby no more than a year old wrapped in a blanket.
Ghost took a step back, disbelief battling within him. But he immediately stopped when he saw you laugh and draw the man in for a kiss. That's when he saw it – the glimmering diamond ring on your finger.
His eyes shifted to the boy who ran out from behind a bush. The child had dirty blonde hair and brown eyes, a stark contrast to the toddler and the man with black hair and blue eyes.
His world came crashing down as he realized the truth. You had been pregnant when you left him, and that was his son. The pieces finally fell into place, and his past words haunted him.
All the times he had ignored your pleas, all the times he had put his career before you, played in his mind over and over again. He watched you and the family you had built without him, the family you had always begged him for.
In that moment, he couldn't help but envision a different life. He could have been the one standing beside you, laughing as you played with your kids. It was a life he could have had, a life he had always wanted, but his attachment to the military had led him away from it.
Ghost took a step back and, with one last look at the son he never knew, and at you, your wide smile etching a permanent place in his memory, he turned away and began to walk away.
You deserved this happiness, the family you had always yearned for, even if it wasn't with him. He knew he could only blame himself for the way things had ended. If only he had acted differently, if only he had put your feelings first, things might have been different.
After that day, he stopped coming to Iceland, letting you have the peaceful life you had always wanted, while he returned to the life that had torn you apart.
He could only blame himself, and he would carry the weight of that regret for as long as he lived, knowing that he had let a life with you slip through his fingers.
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sparklingblu · 9 days
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Eroverse
Pt.3 - Alpha & Omega
Yeji x Male Reader (ft. Kazuha)
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Good news. None.   
Bad news. Where do you even start?   
The worst would be the fact that you can't feel your body. Your eyes seem to be the only functioning organ. To add insult to injury, your whole body is bare, and your clothes are nowhere to be found. You curse yourself for not grabbing your clothes before you get teleported back from that boxing ring. No use regretting it now. Even if you manage to move your limbs somehow, you are trapped in a bar restroom butt naked. Can this day get even worse?   
To be honest, you expect yourself to develop some kind of resistance to all those headaches and pain after passing out four times in a day. Seems like there's no improvement. You can just hope no one comes knocking at the door. That leads you to wonder, how long have you been gone? The first time you encounter Rei or what seems to be Rei, it takes almost an hour. But at least she obeys every command you give so it isn't much of a struggle. The second time, however, you have to wrestle with Eunbi first before you finally tame her, as the quest had said. You are certain more than an hour has flown by.    
Your phone chimes with a notification nearby. No doubt from the 'Ero' app. You desperately want to check it but there's not much you can do when your body feels like a lump of clay. So, you continue doing what you initially were, staring at the ceiling. Funny enough, seeing the ceiling has become a kind of relief after losing and gaining consciousness multiple times. At least, it reminds you that you are alive.  
Once again, you can't help but think of all the unanswered questions that have piled up even more after your encounter with Eunbi. The voice that consistently keeps praising you after you complete a quest, the idols that you have met who are not actually idols. You are pretty sure about that now. Are they replicas? clones? Then what does that make you? A test subject for some crazy experiment that involve fucking idol clones? As usual, no answer.  
If you look at it from the bright side, ignoring all the pain and confusion, you have used two idols for your release already. Getting to fuck one idol should be considered universally lucky. But two? You had to save a nation in your past life for that. Whether they are real or not, they still look exactly the same so it doesn't really make a difference. However, the downside shouldn't be ignored either. If you try to complete one more quest, fuck one more idol, you might not wake up again. With each jump, your body seems to weaken. It starts with headaches and soreness and now you are paralyzed. Not really a price worth paying. You are not perverted enough to trade your life for sex.  
Actually, you might have passed that point already. If you inevitably have to die, you want to go out with honor. Not as a naked corpse in a restroom. "Oh, how did he die?" "I don't know, probably from jerking off naked in the toilet" Yep. Not a good idea.   
A few minutes pass and you start considering screaming for help. You have to sacrifice every bit of dignity you have but at least you won't die. Thankfully, it doesn't happen. Blood starts to flow again in your fingers and soon, you are well aware of the cold floor on your skin.   
You sit up groggily, propping yourself against the toilet for support. Taking a few deep breaths, you picked up the phone. The screen is full of cracks, it covers almost every part of the notification on your lock screen but without a doubt, it's from the 'Ero' app.   
"Congrats on completing your second quest. Please wait patiently for the next one"  
Typical. Just congratulations. Not to mention you nearly got killed. Thank you very much.   
Then your eyes move to the upper corner of the screen displaying the time, 8:48. You can't be sure, but you are certain no more than a few minutes have passed since you passed out. How is it possible? Even without the time you spent laying paralyzed, it takes at least an hour to do everything you have done with Eunbi. No wonder no one comes looking for you.   
Maybe time flows differently in whatever places you get teleported to. Another mystery. Your head starts throbbing, a sign of an oncoming headache. God, can that app let you off for once? There's a silver lining though. Your clothes lie in a pile in a corner. You have to shut your mouth before you start screaming with joy.   
After changing hastily and washing your face, you exit the room. Russell and the rest of the crew are still at their table, their voices getting louder by the second. The effects of all the drinks they had had are evident on their red puffy faces. They don't even seem to notice your absence except Russell, who raises his hand at the sight of you.  
"Man, you have been gone pretty long, you ok?" he asks.  
"Yeah, I'm fine.."  
"You sure? You look like you just woke up"  
He's not wrong but no use making him worried.  
"Trust me. I'm ok. Just a bit tired, i guess"  
"Have you been working late again?"  
Gosh, this guy cares about you more than your mom. You take this as your chance to get out of here.  
"Yeah, got some articles to finish. I have been procrastinating on this one I have to send tomorrow. Mind if I leave early? I need to sleep early"  
"Of course. Don't work too hard, huh? You still have to write a best-seller remember?"  
You simply smile and leave, grabbing your coat. The cold breeze offers you some comfort to the headache that's becoming unbearable. You just want to lay down on the spot and fall asleep. You walk back to your room, trying not to pass out on the way. The night is still young, and the sound of traffic and the chatter of people follows you everywhere. Ordinary people enjoying their lives unlike you, who have become a different person in just a day. You were a writer, not a good one but still an average Joe. Now, you fuck idols with the help of an app. Anyone who hear it will suggest you talk to a therapist, and you won't blame them.   
And what is it that makes the app choose you? You have no special abilities other than the fact that you can mimic animal sounds and that's not even a real talent. Perhaps luck has finally found its way to your ever unfortunate life. But can it be called luck with how you become a step closer to death with each quest you take on. 
You are so busy debating with yourself you are completely oblivious to your surroundings. If only you have turned your head to an alley across the street, you would have seen a dark figure with sparkling eyes that follow every one of your movements. A predator lurking in the shadows. 
♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎  
A week has passed. The 'Ero' app is silent as ever. 
You find yourself expecting a message for another quest despite promising yourself you won't let your perversion lead you to your demise. You should really start thinking with your brain rather than your dick. 
Three days after your last quest, you even try to enter the 'Ero' app out of curiosity. The app closes automatically. After a few more tries, you give up out of disappointment and shame. Shame for trying to enter the app even after knowing the risks. Shame for being a hopeless pervert. 
You should just stick to jerking off to fancams and pictures, at least that way you won't be playing with your life or getting beat up by an idol. That's what you have been doing since you got smitten by those kpop girls but after the quests you have done, it becomes tedious. You will still pump a load or two after seeing Karina's tits or Sohee's ass but it's nothing compared to Rei's blowjob or Eunbi's titjob. You have become addicted.  
Ironically, you even find yourself dreaming of the darkness, the mahogany room and the boxing ring. This is what Eve might have felt when she's told not to eat the forbidden fruit, you think. Because forbidden things are the most tempting.  
You still write but no longer out of pleasure, just to survive. And that reminds you, you should stop eating take outs and cook something yourself for once. Your room was a mess but now it's a whole trash pile. Plastic boxes and cups from all the take outs you order lie in a mountain at the sink. The trash car comes, you are just too lazy to throw it out. And if you don't do something about that stack of papers on the table, it's gonna touch the ceiling soon.  
In short, you have become a mess. Every time your phone chimes, you would check it in a heartbeat, expecting a text from the 'Ero' app. But of course, it isn't. The app has gone ghost quiet. You are desperately seeking to complete just one more quest. One more idol to fuck. 
You rarely go outside and ignore all the messages your friends and colleagues sent you. There's only one message you want to receive which never comes. 
After a week of living like a vampire, a realization hits you. One so obvious you feel like an idiot not thinking about it sooner. All the problems you are facing are rooted from one single thing, the 'Ero' app. If you delete it, your suffering might end. You can even pretend everything that happened was a dream. 
So, you get out of the bed which you have been laying on for hours and grab your phone on the table. The sudden burst of light in the dark room as the screen opens leaves you seeing black spots. It is nighttime but you haven't opened your curtains in a while, so it doesn't really make a difference.  
You swipe till you land on the 'Ero' app. That little black heart icon. You press on it and the uninstall option pops off. 'Finally' you think. 'It's gonna be over. No more crazy stuffs' though a small voice somewhere in your mind keep insisting. 'But what of the pleasure that rivals no other? What of the idols you will meet?' 'Fuck this' you answer. It's true you are a pervert, but you are not hopeless. You won't die so that you can fuck some clone of an idol.  
Determined, you raise your thumb and nearly press on the uninstall button until-  
Your phone chimes. A notification on the top of the screen.  
"New quest ready, ready for your next adventure chosen one?" 
God damn it. Just when you are determined, this app has to come and ruin it. All the walls you have put up about not being a hopeless pervert crumbles in milliseconds. You want this after all. You don't want the app gone. You are just mas that it won't give you a quest. Now what you have been begging for a week is right in front of your eyes. You have to make a choice. Yes or No? 
This quest can be your last. A punishment for letting your dick makes your decisions. You can ignore it. Delete the app and go on with your life as normal. But will your life ever be normal after deleting the app? Who can say you won't be wondering what the third quest would be and which idol you would meet? And worst of all, you will become ordinary again without the app. No more magic portals to creepy rooms.  
You don't want to be ordinary. You have tried your best to become something others aren't all your life. Now, the chance has been presented to you. Your own personal paradise. All yours. No one else's.  
So, you tap on the message, opening the app to the loading screen with the black heart. Even the sight of it gets excitement creeping up your legs already. Then you close your eyes immediately before they get torched by that blinding flash. After waiting for a minute just to be safe, you open your eyes again. A text box sits in the center of the screen, instructions to your next quest. Except that you can't read them. 
The words are fuzzy and blurred. Some even completely redacted by black lines. It is as though someone has made them unreadable on purpose. What the hell is going on? 
This can be another challenge, a harder quest. Even more difficult than trying to defeat an idol who nearly crashes you to pulp. A higher risk of death. A tinge of regret starts to overwhelm you but it's too late. 
The all-familiar darkness envelopes you once again. Then comes the icy cold spike that tears through your organs. Your vision fades and you crumple like paper. 
♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎  
Your old friend accompanies your wake. Of course, it's the headache. Fortunately, it isn't as strong as before or maybe you have just been out of touch you forget the pain. Nevertheless, you are alive.  
You don't get to celebrate much though because the sight that greets you when you open your eyes sucks the joy right out of your heart. It isn't the ceiling this time. At least seeing the ceiling would have been a comfort. What you see is anything but comforting. 
To start, you are not in a room like you were the last two quests. You are surrounded by marble columns that support the circular dome on top. A temple like those in Greek times. A huge part of the building has crumbled, giving you a clear view of what lies ahead.  
Your heart leaps. Before your eyes lies what you can only describe as an apocalyptic city. Actually, an apocalyptic Greek city. Smoke billows from several temples writhed in flames. Most of the bronze and marble statues lining the sandy paths are missing a body part, some have been completely destroyed. A colosseum crumbles to dust right in front of your eyes though you have no idea what a Roman structure is doing in a Greek city. It would have been a beautiful place if it's not for the fact that it looks like a war zone.  
The temple you are in is not holding out really well either. From time to time, debris would fall from the ceiling, and you can only hope the roof won't collapse on top of you. You try to move and that's when you realize you have been tied up. Looking down, you find yourself bound to a chair with metal chains, your hands at the back. Your legs are no exception either. They have been tied up as well. 
This quest is starting to look hopeless already. It would be so easy for someone to gut you right now and you can do nothing but watch. You could call out for help except that there isn't a living being in sight. Even if someone does come, you can't be certain if they are friends or foes. 
You remember the surge of strength that has come to you when you were at the brink of death. It would be really really helpful if you could get that kind of help right now. Though you doubt that kind of chance will be given twice. 
"Oh, he can't help you this time" As if reading your thoughts, a voice rings out behind a column.  
The owner of the voice emerges. A figure with fiery red hair wearing a top of matching color. The black jeans accentuate her slender legs. Her ruby red eyes fixed on you with a steely gaze. Yeji, the leader of Itzy. 
"Ehm....Yeji?" Obviously, the idol before you is not the real Yeji. But you ask anyway. 
"In a sense" She replies. "But that won't matter anymore after I kill you" 
Just wonderful. Another idol who wants you dead.  
"I gotta praise you though. You are pretty strong compared to those before you" 
"Others? What are you talking about?" 
"Oh, do you think you are the only one chosen by the app, chosen one?" She strains the last part just to sound sarcastic.  
"Look, I don't even understand what's happening much less answer your questions. I don't even know why you want to kill me" 
"Oh, you very much do" She snaps back. "Rei? Eunbi? The things you did to them. You are lucky I let you live this long" 
"I was just doing what the app told me to" 
"Oh, yes. That stupid 'Ero' app. You love it so much you walked right into my trap" 
The realization hits you like a bucket of cold water. The quest that arrives right when the app is nearly deleted. The distorted letters.  
"It's you" You say. "You are the one who set up this quest" 
"Correct" Her voice is dripping with glee. "Aren't I clever?" 
"Ok, Yeji....or whatever. If you let me go, I promise I won't-" 
"Oh, shut up. You will follow where your dick leads you" 
She's not wrong. Still, it sort of hurts. 
"There's nothing you will get out of killing me" You try the other route. 
"Oh, there's a lot I can get out of killing you" Yeji muses, walking closer. "And I will start by destroying the thing that have been distracting my kind" 
You don't know what she means but you don't need to wonder for long because with the flick of her wrist, your shorts come off. Look, you know some guys are really into the bondage stuff when the girl ties you up and all, but it isn't much fun when your partner is trying to kill you. But there's a bigger threat than getting killed right now. 
"Wait, you don't mean my-"  
"Dick? Yes. If it's gone, you can no longer bother us, right?" 
"You can't do that! It's illegal" 
"Look around you. You are no longer on earth" 
You are making empty threats, and you know it too well. But you don't want your bloodline to end with you. 
"Look, maybe we can make a deal or something" 
"Too late" Yeji unfolds her palm and a gladius, a roman sword, manifests out of thin air. She's definitely not human. 
You tilt your head in panic as the point hovers over your throat.  
"I should have just killed you but where's the fun in that?" 
Your breath hitches. You don't trust yourself to talk without blabbering out more pleas that will make Yeji even madder. And even worse, your dick is rock hard because of the adrenaline.  
"Bye bye" She raises the sword and brings it down on your springing mamba. You close your eyes. bracing yourself for the pain. But it never comes because a voice cuts through the tense atmosphere.  
"Wait!" Another female voice and running footsteps. You open your eyes. 
Behind Yeji is Kazuha, the japanese member of Le Sserafim. Her pink satin dresses look out of place among the ruins of the city, like a runaway bride.  
"Kazuha?" Yeji lowers the gladius. "Oh, let me guess. He sent you" 
"You need to stop this. Killing him won't stop our problems" 
"You don't know that for sure. One less candidate means less chance for the mark to emerge" 
"What mark?" instantly, you regret not keeping your mouth shut. They want to cut your dick off for christ's sake. 
"The mark of-" Kazuha starts to answer but Yeji cuts her off.  
"Shut up" Yeji snaps. "He's going to die anyway" 
"Stop this, Yeji. He's going to be so mad if he finds out" 
"So what? He has been a dick all those times. You still take orders from him?" 
"He can be crazy sometimes but it's our job to serve him" 
"Bullshit. You are just too scared to disobey" 
"Yeji, please" 
Kazuha's words have no effect. Yeji closes in on you again and raises her gladius. This time there's no escape for you.  
Then the strangest thing happens. A burst of energy erupts from your core, spreading to every cell in your body. All the fatigue and panic are gone. It's like being dipped in water when you are high. You feel pumped, ready to do anything. More specifically, ready to fuck anyone because the lust inside you has never been so strong. 
"It can't be..." Yeji backs away, dropping her gladius. Her face that of pure horror. 
You look down and nearly scream yourself. On your pelvis is an upside-down pentagram, like those used in cult rituals and its glowing red hot though you don't feel any pain. Further down is an even stranger sight. Your dick is literally glowing. Upon taking a closer look, you realize it’s surrounded by a golden aura like it's something powerful. All the chains binding you shatter to pieces, and you rise.  
"The mark" Kazuha mutters dreamily. "It's real" 
"No!" Yeji screams, falling down. "It's a myth. How could it be-" She picks up her gladius and instantly charges. You back away but there isn't a need. Because Yeji got thrown away as though hit by an invisible force. 
She crouches on the floor, panting. "This is madness" 
Kazuha just stands there frozen. Hey eyes fixed on your glowing cock. 
But you only have a single objective in your mind. Ruin Yeji. Use her. Punish her. She is nothing but an easy prey.  
"Stay away" Yeji shouts. In the end, the hunter has become the hunted. 
You close in, grabbing her wrists and pulling her up. Then you slam her onto a column. You don't intend to hurt her though. She's in for something much worse.  
"I will kill you" She mutters but the panic is clear as day in the way her words stutter. Grabbing her waist, you trace your lips across the pulsing veins of her neck all the way to her jaw. Then a bite on her earlobe. Yeji squirms. 
"Still want to kill me?" The question is left unanswered as Yeji's lips part to give way to your tongue, which invades into her oral opening. Yeji's pupils widen when her own tongue got tickled by the foreign one. Her screams come out muffled. Yeji tries to pull away but the grip of your lips on hers is stronger than ever.  
All the while, your hands make their way down to her waist belt, enjoying the feeling of her firm skin. Sliding down further, you slip into her jeans, squeezing that tone ass of hers.  
The writhing of her body is cut short when you slid a finger into her tight asshole, which makes her limp like a rug doll. At first, it's hard to move much with how hard her hole grips you but after a few pumps, it starts to oblige, allowing swifter movements.  
As you finger her asshole, you don't stop the mouth action either. You can no longer tell whose mouth is moister as your saliva got mixed from how long you have been tasting her. All that matters is you keep her mouth shut. The strands of red hair fall over, obscuring your vision partly but you press on, taking in her taste each and every second. Your dick is pressed flat against her tummy in this position and it's getting you even more riled up. You can take care of it later. 
With your unoccupied hand, you squeeze her soft cheeks, which fold like rubber under your touch. The pace of your finger that keeps fucking her asshole remains unwavering. In fact, its pounding her now the same way your cock would. At the same time, you are tongue fucking her. Both of her holes are stuffed and there's nothing she can do about it except produces more degraded sounds. 
Yeji's legs start to shake, inevitably nearing her peak whether she likes it or not. Saliva drips from the corner of her lips and a strand of the remnants connect your lips as your tongue exits her mouth. You are not letting her off. You just want to hear her moan. 
"I...will kill you..." Her voice comes out husky, so it sounds more like an empty promise than a threat. 
"Just shut up and cum bitch" Your thrusts become forceful. Perhaps you are hurting her but Yeji's moaning too much to care. Unable to resist the sight of her skin, you bite down on her neck, pitching up her voice.  
Finally, Yeji breaks. In a frenzy of pain and bliss, she lets out a carnal groan which rings out through the temple. Juice gush out from her pussy when your finger thrust in one last time. Each time her body convulses, she lets out a moan, each one louder than the last. She is still trembling nonstop even after you pull out, her jeans stained with her own bodily fluid. 
"Did you just come from getting your asshole fingered?" You ask. Yeji can only pant as she props against a column not to tremble from her legs that are on the verge of giving out. 
From the corner of your eyes, you can see Kazuha, her arms folded, watching the whole thing without a single word. She seems to be on your side for now. 
"Tired already?" You ask Yeji. "It's just starting" 
The mark on your pelvis glows brighter, the red rays casting a translucent glow on Yeji. With an iron grip on her shoulders, you turn her around, allowing you the view of her round ass in tight jeans. The stain on her crotch area makes the scene even more lewd. 
"Admit it, Yeji. All this time you have been a slut. My cock is all it takes to wipe that bitchy look off your face" Your cock presses against her clothed ass. 
"I swear I will kill-" 
You pull down her jeans just enough to expose her round butt, stealing the air right out of her lungs. Your palm connects with her supple flesh in a harsh spank, leaving a handprint in red. You deliver a strike for each word that leaves her mouth. It goes like this. 
"I-" 
Spank 
"will-" 
Spank 
"kill-" 
Spank 
"you-" 
The white canvas of her skin is now streaked with scarlet stripes. And you intend to keep it that way because the way her ass jiggle with each spank is too hypnotic to get tired of. The cherry on the top is how she keeps protesting even through the stinging pain. But you are gonna change it real soon. 
With one last strike, you pull back, admiring your handiwork on her ass, which is now the same fiery shade as her hair and tops. Yeji mutters another curse through shallow breath. This bitch is still as cocky as ever. 
Pulling her hair to tilt her head, you whisper into her ear. "Still resisitng, hmm? Should we move on to your next punishment?" Yeji's eyes blaze with fury. "Bastard"  
"So, we are doing it the rough way" You hold her throat in a tight grip with your other hand, restricting any more words from coming out of her vocal cords.  
You rest your rock hard cock between her cheeks, the glow it radiates merging with her reddened buttocks. "I'm gonna fuck your brains out now. And then I wanna know if you still want me dead"  
Yeji can do nothing as you enter her moist slit with one forceful thrust that ripples her cheeks. You don't know if she's a virgin or not but the way her walls hug you tight is giving you ideas. Nevertheless, you push on, breaking through the barriers of her fold with each thrust. It doesn't take much time for you to pound her freely with how wet she already is from earlier. 
Soon, you are hammering her cunt without a care in the world, solely focused on using her as your vessel for pleasure. You will take anything her body can offer and that will be her punishment, to become nothing but your cumdump. Resentment and triumph take over your movements and each thrust leaves her even more breathless despite being choked. 
You loosen your grip on her neck just enough for her to make audible sounds. "Still hate me?" You ask as you pull back all the way and thrust into her slit with all your force. She tenses, her back arched. She answers your question with animalistic sounds only a whore would make. 
"Hmm, you still got a lot to learn" You slip your hands under her top, reaching for her mounds. Yeji's tits aren't qualified to be called huge, but they are still big enough to fill your palm as you knead them. When you twirl her rosy nipples between your index and thumb, she mewls like an animal in heat which is only natural with the way she's getting bred. 
You slow down your thrusts, moving in and out slowly to enjoy the full feeling of her slick velvety walls that trace every inch you fill her up with. Somewhere far away, another building collapsed with a sickening crunching sound. A wave of hot air grazes your skin. But they can do nothing to disturb you from claiming Yeji's cunt thoroughly.  
Her walls start to contrast around you, the sign of an oncoming climax. You thrust with inhuman speed, empowered by the mark, as Yeji had called it. Jolts of energy course through your veins at every moment and you are surprised to find that you are not even sweating, much less tired. You can breed Yeji all day if she isn't already worn out and used up. 
Yeji's eyes roll up, her tongue hanging out in the perfect replication of the ahaego faces you see so often in certain animes. Another flood of her nectar pours out, coating your shaft. You keep fucking through her orgasm, chasing your own high. Yeji's body twists and bends but you keep her in position by wrapping your arms around her waist.  
The friction over her slick walls becomes unbearable and soon you are pumping jets after jets of your fertile seeds into her womb, all the way to the hilt. If Yeji sounds animalistic before, now she's no different from an animal. Guttural sounds betray her lips as she gets filled up to the depths she never knows existed before. When your orgasm subsides, she becomes motionless, her hoarse breaths the only sign of life. 
You pull out and cum drips out of her hole which is clenching onto air as if it needs something stuffed inside. Her punishment is a success. Yeji's got destroyed by the very thing that she wanted to destroy. As you stand there, grinning with victory, the adrenaline starts to drain out of your body. Your legs become sore, and the fucking headache is starting again. The mark on your pelvis dims and fades along with the glow of your spent rod.  
"We need to leave" You are so caught up in the joy of dominating Yeji, you forget Kazuha exists. She's still at her old spot, watching you with interest and a slither of worry. You quickly pull up your shorts though there's no point being shy now. She has seen everything. 
"Leave where?" You ask. "My quest is completed right? I will just pass out and go back" 
"It's not happening this time. He wants to meet you" 
"He?" 
"Look, we don't have much time. He will explain everything to you. I promise" 
"But-" 
The temple rumbles. More debris and dust fall from above.  
"Alright. Good idea" You and Kazuha make it outside just in time before the whole temple collapses. The sound of explosions and crumbling buildings ring out all around you. The air burns your lungs with each breath. 
"Ok, hold my hand" Kazuha says and you oblige. There's no point arguing when you are in the middle of an apocalypse. As Kazuha closes her eyes, a gleaming orb surrounds both of you and you spiral down into a tunnel of light. 
♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
(Have been procrastinating on this. Anyway, enjoy~)
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ifearzombies · 1 year
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Things You Do Living At The HoL
1- Whenever you make yourself food in the kitchen you make three servings. One for you and two for Beel. Beel will smell it and you can never, ever not have something for him.
2- You buy every magazine Mammon is featured in. He makes royalties off of that and you want to support your first man in everything he does.
3- You check on Lucifer’s office every night. You either are bringing him coffee, offering to help, or are ushering him to bed depending on what he’s working on.
4- You text Diavolo, Barbatos, and the PH group every night to tell them you love them and that you’ll see them tomorrow since you can’t say goodnight in person most nights.
5- You find yourself saying “God” a LOT less. Either the angels are offended because you’re using their father’s name in vain. Or the demons are offended because you’re mentioning someone who hates them/their father they hate. It’s almost eradicated from your vocabulary.
6- When in the Human Realm and you see religious people you have to walk by them quickly because you can’t tell them how much you know about God, Demons, and the afterlife.
7- On nights you can’t sleep, you find yourself in the kitchen either talking to Beel or making food for him. You cherish those late night talks.
8- When Levi has a raid planned and you can’t stay with him, you check on him as much as possible to see if he needs anything.
9- You gave up trying to clean Satan’s room. But you DO check to make sure he’s not buried under books. Again. You’ve found him a few times under a bookalanche.
10- You make sure to tell Asmo he’s beautiful at least once a day. He pouts if you don’t.
11- You make sure Belphie wakes up long enough to do his schoolwork on days he does virtual schooling. On days he goes to RAD, you check to see how he’s doing.
12- On days you are in charge of dinner (volunteering or scheduled), you tend to make foods that are easy to make in bulk. Spaghetti, pancakes, quesadillas, and so forth. Not just because of Beel’s appetite (though that is the main reason), but this is a house of 7 men who are pretty fit. They all have a very healthy appetite. Plus there’s ALWAYS a chance for the PH group or Diavolo & Barbatos to come by.
13- You don’t lock the door when you use the bath in the main bathroom of the HoL. In the event someone desperately needs the toilet/sink in there, you don’t want to get up out of the water to open the door. Too much hassle.
14- You have a specific spot you sit at in the living room. The demons are weirded out by you have a particular spot you like, but they’ve avoided sitting there so that they’re never in the way.
15- You look at the sky to tell the time. You’ve started to figure out when it’s day or night depending on the moon’s positions and the stars in the sky. Specific hours still require a watch/clock. But day or night, you’ve got it mostly down.
16- You keep a shelf of books in your room for Satan. They’re mostly cat mystery novels since he loves detective novels and cats. You steal them back from his room, though, so he can’t add them to the mess that is his room.
17- You check on the pranks for the Anti-Lucifer League and work with them on good times for pranks. You’ve explained that if he’s not busy with something important, it’s more aggravating to him. They don’t believe you, but they sometimes listen to you when you ask them to hold off on a prank.
18- You tend to ask Mammon and Satan to go grocery shopping with you. Mammon can find the best deals and Satan is knowledgeable about what’s freshest in the store. Beel eats while he shops and groceries are more when he’s there. Belphie gets tired, Levi complains the whole time, Asmo just looks at reflective surfaces and slows the process down, and Lucifer is usually too busy.
19- You don’t watch porn. You can’t. Asmo can tell when you do because he can just sense when you’re horny and he tells EVERYONE. It’s embarrassing and sometimes you just want to have some self service time rather than end up in a wheelchair!
20- The wheelchair. It started as a joke from Solomon, honestly. Teasing that you likely have so much intimacy you struggle to walk. Diavolo didn’t realize he was joking and actually bought it for you. So you do actually own a wheelchair at the HoL. It’s in your closet, all charged up (Diavolo sprung for a fancy motorized one). When you feel like messing with the brothers, you’ll break it out and use it around the first floor and then they get to try and figure out who made you use it. It slightly backfires if anyone comes to visit though.
Solomon starts flirting and stating that he’d like a turn to make you use it. Simeon turns redder than a tomato. Luke gets mad and yells at the demons for hurting you, assuming they’ve injured you by their fighting (NO ONE IS CORRECTING HIM FOR FEAR OF ANGERING SIMEON). Barbatos frets over you being injured. Diavolo just teases you and asks if the chair is comfortable enough.
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mrsparrasblog · 16 days
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POLY 141: How They React to Someone Else Flirting with Them
I don't think they would be mean in a normal situation, like someone coming up and saying "you're cute," and they respond with "Thank you, but I'm more than happy with my wonderful wife."
But let's spice ✨ this situation up a bit, like you're at the pub with them and you go to the toilet, and someone approaches them, knowing exactly that you're their girl. It's over for Miss Girl. They are really nice people, just not when someone disrespects their misses.
Ghost: He would just give them a death stare through his mask. "Go," he huffs, annoyed by the whole situation, and he just leaves her alone. He doesn't even give anyone between you and your pretty three other boyfriends any attention, so why bother even looking at her?
Price: If you're married, he just taps on his ring, and even if you're not married, he is like, "I'm married to the most beautiful girl in the world."
"One time won't hurt."
"If you're not gone in 5 seconds, my wife will probably rip you apart."
You will.
Kyle: Our sweet Kyle, do you really think he is still sweet? Oh no, he is the worst of all of them. I have this headcanon of him that he is the most attentive and obsessed boyfriend of all of them; he just loves you unconditionally. And when someone approaches him with,
"Don't you want someone more in your league, pretty boy?" she said while he touched his crotch. It's over - first of all, no one dares to tell him that you aren't a literal goddess of beauty, and second, only you can call him this, and Price when you have a threesome but no one else.
"Last time I checked, you're not even half as hot, funny, or intelligent as my girl, so piss off and stop touching me."
"Stop lying to me."
And then that guy just casually holds a picture on his phone of you against her and looks. "Nah, you're ugly."
You return, and he tells you not to worry your pretty head over this slag.
Johnny: Oh, he would be petty. You know he loves showing you off and kissing you in front of all the guys who want you, even in front of Price, Gaz, and Ghost, even though you're POLY. Boy is possessive. So why not show everyone he is yours? He pulls you onto his lap and kisses your neck, his hands grabbing your hips and everything in front of her. "Mhm, going to fuck you hen," and he does in the bathroom stall of the pub. And now, don't you dare to be quiet while he shows his claim.
Bonus: You, who reach that girl looking at her while using your most innocent smile. "If you don't leave my men, I'm going to kill you, shred you into many pieces, and send your parents a piece every year so they can puzzle you back up." The girl runs away thinking you're mental. John and Kyle are 100% sure that you got this sentence from Ghost, but it was actually Johnny who taught you this, since Ghost explained to you for 3 hours straight why this wouldn't work - Buzzkill.
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college can be so stressful! balancing classes, work, and a social life can be incredibly hard. it seems sarah here couldn’t handle the pressure though…
sarah chose a school hours from home, hoping to gain some freedom from her overbearing mother. but as soon as she was left alone on campus, it became clear that she doesn’t know the first thing about taking care of herself. dirty dishes, piles of laundry, even week old coffee sitting out on her desk, her roommates absolutely loathed her messy ways.
the straw that broke the camels back was sarah’s new “toilet troubles” that began happening.
having never slept anywhere but her own bedroom, sarah was so nervous and uncomfortable about sleeping in the dorm. her body seemed to reflect that, and a few days into the semester, she woke up i’m soaked sheets for the first time since she was a kid.
although annoyed about the stale piss smell, her roommate wrote it off as just moving stress and promised to not make a big deal about it if she cleaned up after herself (which she did, although poorly).
until it happened again. and again. and again.
sarah was so embarrassed, but she just couldn’t seem to stop! using the bathroom right before bed, limiting liquids, nothing seemed to work.
her matters, and subsequently the dorm, reeked of piss. even if sarah changed her sheets, the mattress was still absolutely ruined from her refusal to by a waterproof mattress pad because “those are for babies!”.
it all came to a breaking point when sarah rushed in from class one day. her roommate was at her desk studying, and turned around just in time to watch sarah have an accident right in front of the door to their shared bathroom. sarah had refused to use the “gross” campus toilets, and had tried holding it until the end of the lecture, but the professor went over and she couldn’t make it.
her roommate, sick of living with a girl who had the potty training of a toddler, did the only thing she knew would 100% change things. she called sarah’s mom.
she’d heard all of sarah’s stories about how protective and overbearing she could be at times, but she knew that sarah’s mom would make sarah at least do something about her frequent accidents.
sarah’s mom was furious at her daughters immaturity and inability to take responsibility for herself. she thanked her roommate for calling, even apologizing for sarah’s actions, and promised she’d see sarah fixed her issue.
sarah’s mom overnighted some “essentials” for sarah, telling her it was a care package.
sarah was mortified to find that the package was a 144 pack of goodnights, in her size! she had to carry the huge and obnoxious through the dorm, blushing furiously at ten snickers and pointing other students did when she passed by.
from then on, sarah’s mom put her back in pull-ups full time. making sarah send her updates and “diaper checks” every few hours. she even made a shared spreadsheet that operated like a potty training chart for sarah to fill out everyday.
sarah was mortified. her roommate had even told a few of her friends about her “problem” and now she can’t walk around campus without getting stared at or whispered about. no boy will come within 10ft of her, so any ideas she had about a college romance went out the window with her potty training.
to make matters even worse, sarah’s mom threated to make her transfer to their local community college and move back home if she can’t keep her pants dry. she said she’ll re-potty train sarah herself while she takes classes part time.
it’s almost winter break. sarah snaps a morning diaper check for her mom before heading to class. she woke up wet again for the 6th day in a row, her mom said if she ever reaches a 7 day streak, she’s sending proper adult diapers for sarah to start wearing. inevitably, the fresh pull-up she’s showing her mom won’t be dry for long. in fact, she’ll flood it on the way to class, too focused on being on time than noticing the bulk swell between her legs.
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kisakis-boyfriend · 4 months
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The Idol's Lovers — Bathroom
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Pairings: Izana x reader
Warnings: Dom male!reader, bodyguard!reader, sub Idol!Izana, semi-public sexual acts, masturbation, brief oral + cum swallowing, smut within smut
Summary: An hour before one of his performances, Izana scrolls on social media out of boredom. Amongst the fan art, fancams, memes, and gif sets; a few particular posts catch the white-haired idol's attention. He is unable to stop his growing arousal and ducks away into a staff bathroom to take care of his 'problem'.
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“Ah-! Mmph-! ” Muffled moans echo inside of the cheaply lit room, accompanying slick sounds as the idol's hand vigorously pumps his dick.
"Izana's back arched while the tall man behind him pounded his virgin hole, slamming his cheek against the wall hard enough to bruise. — The larger man forced his fat cock inside Izana's tight ass. The bratty idol came immediately; his cock dripped with milky cum, making a mess on the dressing room floor. — The two bodyguards stuffed his holes, stretching him to his limit. Their cocks unloaded inside of his warm throat and tight ass simultaneously; rendering the spoiled idol useless as he became addicted to their rough treatment and endless loads of cum."
These were the stories that coaxed the young man into jacking off in the dingy bathroom. With his shirt rolled up and clamped between his teeth, soaking the fabric in drool, and his back pressed into the wall — Izana held his phone with one hand; scrolling back to the parts of the fanfiction that caused his dick to twitch and ooze more precum. His other hand never left his hard cock as he fucked into his fist with urgency.
The burn from staring at his phone screen became more obvious, bringing tears to the corners of his eyes. He was glued to the screen — addicted to the filthy prose that his fans wrote about him.
-
“Where the hell did he go now...” You muttered to yourself. Receiving concerned glances from the other staff members as your heavy, rushed footsteps passed by. His input is required for these last few details of the lighting and he's nowhere to be found, once again...
Pulling your phone from your back pocket with a huff, you checked the app that showed you Izana's location — it was your idea for him to install it. Only you, Izana, and his other most trusted bodyguard, Kakucho, were privy to using this app amongst each other. No one else was allowed to keep tabs on the idol the same way that his personal guards were allowed.
“Found you, ya little shit.” You whispered, annoyed at spending precious time on a wild goose chase.
-
A picture perfect image of desperation — Izana's head tipped back, pressing into the tile wall almost uncomfortably, while his wrist twisted with every stroke. He wasn't even trying to be quiet anymore; loud, yet still muffled by his shirt, moans filled the room. Sweaty, nearly crying, and out of breath, the beloved idol was seconds away from an orgasm–
The loud bang from the door hitting the wall startled Izana; hips stuttering intensely while his pretty eyes widened.
“...Really?” Was the only word you were able to muster right now. Just, really? His fans were out there screaming and cheering for him and he's jerking off in a gross toilet?
A pathetic whimper pulled your full attention towards Izana, who hadn't slowed down his movements, mind you. His big, teary eyes wordlessly begged for anything to push him over the edge; to give him the release that he so desperately needed right now...
Without thinking, you marched over. Crouching down in front of Izana's trembling form, “Mr. Kurokawa,” you said sternly, and with a twinge of annoyance laced into your tone, “if you stay in here any longer you will be late.”
Using one strong hand to hold the idol's wrist away from his leaking cock, and the other to grip his exposed waist, you took all of Izana into your mouth at once. The taste of his precum hit you immediately, it's flavour rather strong seeing as there was so much of it used to lube up his cock. This doesn't deter you, however. You bob your head along the idol's length with the help of his wetness, expertly wringing an overwhelming orgasm out of him.
Izana cries, bucking his hips roughly against your face, forcing his dick further into your mouth and kissing the back of your throat with his tip — cumming inside with a groan.
Some of his cum lingers in your mouth even after he pulls out; it tastes stronger than his precum. It clings to the insides of your cheeks and coats your tongue in a thin film.
“Hah...now then, y-you need to get your ass back out there and talk to the lighting crew.” You said in between breaths. Izana was slightly dazed from the intense pleasure, needing to be dragged out of the room by his arm. “Honestly Mr. Kurokawa...like a horny teenager sometimes...”
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totaly-obsessed · 3 months
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The Weight of Expectations
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Alexia Putellas x reader
-> Happy Birthday to my darling @greynatomy, love ya!
-> Alexia struggles through the IVF journey and turns mean
-> Talk of pregnancy, alcohol and abuse
➳ Masterlist
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
“¡No puedes hablar en serio!”
Oh. Alexia was home, something new. You were currently in the bathroom closest to the bedroom, heaving up anything that you had eaten, even the light soup. 
For a couple of days, you had been like this, and two days ago you had finally done a test. A pregnancy test. This was the last IVF round before Ale and you had to start considering other options like adoption. The first 2 rounds had failed.
Positive. The goddamn test was finally positive.
Immediately you had made an appointment for a blood test to get done. You just had to be sure before telling Alexia. The blonde already blamed herself, thinking she had waited for too long, hesitant to have a child while in the midst of her career before she finally committed to it.
You had been so incredibly happy when she came to you after a game. Tears streamed down your face when she told you that she was ready to have a child. With you.
The disappointment of two failed attempts weighed heavily on Alexia. She desperately tried to console you as you cried, hiding her own tears in her pillow when you finally passed out. How could she be sad when you had to go through the physical aspect as well?
She shouldn't have waited that long, maybe 29 was too old.
After that things changed. She had left for Spain camp, and after that, she threw herself back into work in Barcelona. Her surgery was healing well and she was getting better and better by the day.
Meanwhile, you were sat at home, trying to understand the change in your wife. Did you do something wrong? With the previous tries the footballer had been so involved, checking in on you multiple times a day when she was at training. 
And now? Nothing.
Alone you had gone to the blood test yesterday, not even needing an explanation for your wife, who came home after you had gone to bed and left before you woke up.
Eight Weeks. You were already two months along. In Alexia's absence, you had completely forgotten to test, wanting to do it with her.
As soon as you had gotten the confirmation, the morning sickness hit ten times harder. Who even decided to call it that? Morning sickness… What a stupid fucking name. The whole day was filled with sudden cramps and vomiting.
And you had done it all alone until now. 
But Alexia was here now, yelling in the kitchen, before she stomped up the stairs to the bathroom, looking into every door available on her way. She was looking for you.
She hesitated for a second, seeing you crouched on the floor, head over the toilet, and pale as the white wall behind you.
“¡No puedes hablar en serio!”, she yelled again, now in your face.
“I am serious Ale, what's up?”
This was the first time you had seen her in a couple of days, her roots were starting to show, as did the bags under her eyes. But the rest of her body looked stronger than ever, the countless hours in the gym paying off.
“The kitchen is a mess, you didn’t do the laundry and you didn't mop the floors either. Look how filthy it is in this house!”
Wow.
You didn't know what you had been expecting. But definitely not this.
With slow movements you pushed yourself up, using the sink to help balance yourself. Fuck were you dizzy.
“W- What did you mean?” You hated how meek your voice sounded after your wife practically yelled at you.
Her face was red, and her eyes looked like she had been bitten by the devil, spit gathering at the corners of her mouth.
Crazy. She looked really fucking crazy, and it was terrifying.
“¿En serio?”
“Let’s just go downstairs, I made dinner and we can talk about it.” 
With a scoff the blonde turned on the spot, stomping down the stairs, leaving you in the bathroom. Tears threatened to fall. What has happened?
With your nausea, it took you a bit longer to navigate the stairs. Every step hurt, but Alexia couldn’t care less about your pain-filled noises. She was busy stabbing a fork into her dinner, already scarfing a plate of your favorite pasta dish down.
“Finally. God, you always take so long.”
The words were filled with hate as she spat them at you, not even noticing that a bit of the sauce was flung onto her cheeks. 
You couldn’t help but smile a bit, she had never managed to eat without making a mess of herself and the table. With a damp cloth, you tried to wipe the spot away, but when she hit your hand away from her, the cloth sailed to the floor as you looked at her. Eyes wide in panic.
“I am not your goddamn child. I can take care of myself.”
Your wives' usually warm eyes pierced your heart even more. Was this really the same woman who would carry you to bed every night, even after grueling training and rehab sessions?
The tears you had breathed away were back, a painful sensation in your eyes as Alexia continued to devour the meal you had prepared with so much excitement to tell her as if it didn't mean anything.
“This tastes like shit. Not even good for cooking.” She threw the fork on the plate, the clattering sound ripping you out of your shock-induced trance. “Do you want me to make you something different?
Your wife looked terrifying. Her eyes were wide open with small pupils that moved around quickly, looking you up and down before making their way through the house. The rest of her face was stoic, a facade she had perfected over the years. One that she didn’t usually use with you.
“No. I don’t want new food. I want you to get yourself together.”
The room filled with a heavy silence that nearly made you gasp for air. What did she mean?
“Amore I don’t know what has gotten into you, but maybe we should just go for a quick walk? Get some fresh air?”
That was the final nail in the coffin for the footballer, who stood up with such force, that the chair slid back and toppled over with a startling noise.
“Fresh air? You want fresh air?” She was getting in your face now, hunching a little to really get close. “Do you know what I want?”
Her breath was warm as it hit your nose.
Alcohol. You could smell alcohol.
She was a mean drunk, snapping at anyone who dared to get too close to her, her dog, or you. But just like her stern face, you were usually safe from her drunken attitude. Your wife always pushed you behind her as soon as anything looked like trouble.
This was new and you hated it.
“What do you want Ale?”
the defender had emptied your cup of coffee in one go, slamming the mug down on the counter.
“What do I want? I a housewife that can actually do her fucking job!” She was yelling now, some of the words accentuated with harsh hand movements and slight pushes to your shoulders.
“And look at how you let yourself go. Fucking pathetic! How can I even show myself in public with you?”
Shit that hurt.
You were finally pregnant with a very much wanted child, and she acted like this after leaving you alone for such a long time.
“Gained so much weight it’s-”
“I’m pregnant.”
You didn't yell. You didn’t shout. You said it with a normal voice. Well as normal as you could with tears threatening to spill.
But it was enough to quiet the drunk blonde. 
“Pregnant? You’re pregnant?”
It felt as if she was looking at you for the first time when her eyes softened and her whole body slumped. She fucked up. And she knew it.
In a frenzy you started packing things, throwing stuff into a suitcase while your wife tried to stop you. “Where are you going? Amore, please! I am so sorry!”
But it was too late.
With a suitcase and Alexia’s car, you made your way to Eli’s house, you had no one in Spain, all your family back home, so you decided to turn to your wife's mother who loved you to no end and had spent a lot of time at your house while Alexias had been ‘busy’ the last few weeks.
Alexia watched as you left. You were pregnant with a child that she wanted so badly, and she fucked it up.
Tomorrow she will make up for it. She really will.
696 notes · View notes
roosterforme · 11 days
Text
Covering the Classics Part 11 | Bob Floyd x OC
Summary: When Anna hits rock bottom, she knows she needs to figure out how to put herself back together. But she also knows that leaving Kevin behind once and for all will require her to give up the only thing she wants from him. Maybe a shot at happiness with Bob would have been worth it.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, 18+
Length: 4400 words
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)
Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!
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If this wasn't rock bottom, Anna didn't want to know what was. She spent Sunday night laying on the floor next to her bed alternating between crying and hyperventilating. Apparently she couldn't do both at the same time, because her body kept giving each activity its full attention before switching again. When she finally started to fall asleep around three o'clock, her ribs were aching so much, she didn't see how she would be able to teach in a few hours. But it didn't matter. She wouldn't be going to campus anyway.
When she woke up at six, she crawled to her computer and emailed everyone in her classes, informing them that she would not be in today and to work through the syllabus independently until their next class with her. All of the other professors pulled this kind of thing all the time, but she still felt guilty which triggered more tears. If Kevin somehow cost her a full time tenure position along with her happiness, she didn't know what else she had that he could possibly take from her.
When she thought about Bob, it hurt so badly she had to run to the toilet. And when she thought about Advanced Calculus and Advanced Physics, it hurt almost just as much. She was in love with so many things in San Diego, but she'd dragged her past here along with her even if she didn't want to acknowledge that fact. She'd brought this dark shadow along that tainted everything and left her wondering if she could fix any of it at this point. If she could even figure out how to start.
As she hiccupped alone in her bathroom, she knew she needed to mentally backtrack to New Jersey for the first time in a long time before she could focus on San Diego. When she crawled back toward her bed, she located her phone and found the contact information for her lawyer's office. It was late enough on the east coast that someone answered after one ring, and soon Anna had to use her scratchy, raw voice to try to communicate.
"When will my divorce be final?" she managed to ask as she propped herself against the wall. She left herself hungry every day, and she was living in this tiny room simply so she could pay these people to help her sort out her life, but the response she got was not ideal.
"Ms. Webber... your husband still has three days left to comply, but he has not done so yet."
Anna wanted to scream, but her throat felt like it was constricting. Why wouldn't he just let her have the one thing she wanted? She wasn't asking for anything extra, just the thing she worked so hard to make her own. She didn't even care about all of the money. But he wouldn't let her have it. Even though she didn't want to fight for anything else in the house, he still wouldn't comply. He was making hundreds of thousands of dollars now, and she wanted none of it back, but he knew that her manuscript was the one thing meant something to her. He would happily drag this out until she had nothing left.
She knew she needed to wait it out. It was her fault she hadn't filed sooner. She let Kevin's words destroy her even when she knew he was sleeping with Alyssa. She let him convince her that she needed him for way too long. "What happens in three days?" she finally asked.
"If he doesn't comply, then you can restructure your end of the divorce agreement, and we can try again."
Anna knew what that meant for her, but she didn't know if she could pull the trigger. Restructure it? There was only one thing she could remove. Kevin would come out clean as a whistle, and she would lose everything she hadn't already.
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When Bob knocked on the door at seven in the morning after barely sleeping at all, Jessica looked concerned when she opened it, and Jake looked annoyed. "What's wrong?" she asked, reaching out and running her hand along his stubbled cheek. "Why haven't you shaved? Why do you look so upset?"
"Why are you even here?" Jake called from the kitchen where he was cooking breakfast in his uniform.
"I need to talk to you," Bob croaked, and Jessica pulled him inside and gently guided him toward the couch. She rubbed his back and didn't rush him as he sat there, and Jake even stopped turning to glare from in front of the waffle iron.
"Did you know Anna's married?"
Bob could tell by the sharp intake of breath and the way Jessica's hand came to a screeching halt on his back that she had no idea.
"She's what?"
"Married," he repeated without any feeling whatsoever. The handful of hours he'd spent around her were some of the best of his life, but he would have never let his friends try to push them together if he'd know. He should have let her keep him in the friend zone when she tried to let him know that's what she wanted. Mutual attraction be damned, she'd made marriage vows to someone else. He just wished he would have known.
"No," Jessica said adamantly. "How? She's got no rings, and she said she lives alone. She mentioned an ex before, but I'm virtually certain he's still in New Jersey. She... struggles with certain things, and if she was married, someone would be helping her make ends meet. I don't know where you came up with this, but no."
Bob took his glasses off and set them down on the arm of the couch while he ran his hands over his exhausted eyes. "Jessica. She told me she was."
"Well," his friend said as she wrapped her arm around his shoulders, "I'll ask her about it at lunchtime today. There must be some sort of miscommunication."
"I don't think so," he groaned softly. "We... slept together, and those were her parting words as she ran out of my house."
"You slept together?!" Jessica practically shrieked. 
"It's about damn time!" Jake called from the kitchen, clanging his spatulas together and whooping loudly.
But Bob was shaking his head and staring at the floor through his slightly fuzzy vision. He had his phone in his hand all night, trying to decide if he should call or text her, wondering if she went home to climb into bed with her husband. Scared that this was the reason why she squeezed herself into her apartment door before closing it abruptly when he drove her home.
"I should have backed off when she friend zoned me the first time. I should have never believed that I could be with a woman like her." A woman that inspired the best poetry he'd ever written in his life. A woman who made him want everything.
It finally dawned on Bob that there might be an irate husband in his future, and he would just have to take whatever came his way. Because there wasn't a chance that Anna didn't have her spouse wrapped around her fingers. Even if she had a lapse of judgement when it came to Bob, Anna's husband would know how good he had it and want to fight for her. Bob would just have to take it on the chin.
When Jessica kissed his cheek and whispered, "I'll try to sort this out," he just nodded with his shoulders slumped and his elbows digging into his thighs. But there was nothing to sort out. Anna would never be his, and now he would have to pay the price for the way she told him she was married about an hour too late to take it all back. Honestly, he never thought accidentally sleeping with a married woman was something he would ever have to deal with in his wildest dreams, and now that he was forced to do it, he was getting pretty mad.
-----------------------------
Anna managed to give her Classics lecture on Tuesday morning with a sore throat after screaming into her pillow off and on for most of Monday afternoon. She hadn't eaten in days, and if anyone noticed her puffy, red eyes, they didn't mention it to her. She had quizzes to grade and reports to read, but when she went back to her office, the overwhelming scent of bread from the cafeteria made her gag.
There was a pack of peanuts in her desk along with a room temperature can of ginger ale, but she had no appetite yet. She was just in survival mode until she decided what to do when Kevin's time was up. Until she worked up the courage to talk to Bob and apologize.
He was the sweetest man she had ever known, and her lapse of judgement was going to cost her any chance with him in the future as well as her friendships. In fact, none of them were ever going to want to speak to her again, and that's what she deserved. If she would have just been honest with Bob, she wouldn't be in this mess. But San Diego was like a balm for her senses, making her feel normal where she knew she wasn't. Maybe Bob would have been willing to wait a few more months until she figured out her next steps. Maybe he would have accepted that she was legally separated from Kevin if her husband would just sign the fucking paperwork.
Tears were burning her eyes again just as someone knocked on her office door. She sat perfectly still, silently begging them to go away, praying that everyone would leave her alone until she could sneak out and go home later.
"Anna?"
She knew that voice so well, and she was shocked to find that it sounded more concerned than angry.
"It's just us," came the second voice, and without another thought, Anna was on her feet, wrenching the door open as she started to sob. "Oh, Anna," whispered Jessica as she collected her into her arms.
Anna stood in the middle of her tiny office and cried and cried in Jessica's arms while her other friend studiously locked the door and dimmed the lights before reaching for the box of tissues on the shelf. "Here," she whispered, and Anna accepted a wad of tissues from her.
She tried to mop at her face, but it was a lost cause. Jessica pushed the loose strands of her red hair back from her eyes as she said, "Anna, we're here for you, but I think we need to talk. For real."
"We have some... concerns."
Anna tried to take huge gulps of air into her burning lungs as she gasped, "I'm really not okay. I hurt Bob."
Her friends looked at each other before Jessica said, "I think it's time you backtracked a little bit. Maybe all the way back to New Jersey."
"I hated it there," she told them immediately, wiping at her eyes as she sat on the edge of her desk, bracing herself for the interrogation to come. 
Advanced Calculus eyed her sympathetically before a look of steel locked in her gaze. "Are you married?"
Anna nodded slightly, cringing as she pictured Kevin's face. "Technically, yes."
"Anna!" Jessica exclaimed. "You slept with Bob!"
They knew. They knew everything. Bob told them, and they knew what she'd done. She cradled her forehead in her hands and said, "I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I hate Kevin. I don't think we were even married two years before he started cheating on me. I'm trying my best to divorce him, but he just won't fucking let me."
"What do you mean he won't let you?" Advanced Calculus asked, cutting off Jessica before she could screech again.
"He is ruining my life," Anna whispered, finally starting to feel more anger than anything else. "Like an idiot, I've let him ruin my life. I put him through medical school. I dropped out of Princeton to work two jobs to put my husband through medical school." Her voice faded into a soft yet harsh whisper. "Kevin promised he'd take care of me after that so I could finish my Ivy League PhD. But then he started cheating on me because I was always tired and boring and no fun. Because all I was doing was working to pay his tuition for four years straight while he fucked another medical student between classes. I caught them having sex in my car."
"No," both women gasped at the same time. But she just nodded as the memories she had tried so hard to keep at bay since she moved to California came roaring back.
"That's not a marriage," Jessica practically growled, reaching out for Anna's hand that she hadn't even been aware was shaking. "Not really."
"You're right," Anna agreed. "I'm a joke." She honestly felt like one. Images of Bob's face and the memory of his kind voice flooded her system. The way he looked at her and touched her felt like love. The things he wrote about her had her almost convinced he could love her back.
"You're not a joke, Anna," her friend told her. "You're a smart, capable woman who should have come to her friends months ago with all of this information."
"I hate Kevin!" Jessica shrieked before biting down on her own fingertips, and it was so comical, Anna might have laughed if she was in a better frame of mind.
"Yes," Advanced Calculus agreed. "Kevin sounds like an asshole. But you know who isn't an asshole? Bob. But right now, he kind of feels like one."
Anna closed her eyes as the tears started welling up faster. "I tried so hard. You have to believe me. But Bob is perfect. And he didn't think I was boring. But I wasn't planning on falling in love ever again."
"You love him?" Jessica snapped loudly. "You love him? Because Bob thinks you are in a loving marriage with your spouse!"
"Jessica, go sit in the desk chair and calm down," the other woman commanded, and Anna watched the petite, bespectacled blonde stomp around her desk. "Now, Anna, why didn't you explain this all to Bob before you rocked the man's whole world and then ran off into the night like Cinderella?"
"I freaked out," Anna whispered, swallowing hard. "He's the perfect man. He did everything exactly right, and he was exquisite." She looked down at the floor as she said, "I haven't been touched like that in years. Like I was worth something. I'm not even thirty yet, and my husband ditched me for someone else while actively bankrupting me." She was mortified by what she was telling them, but she couldn't stop herself now. "Kevin always said I should dye my hair, and he loved it when I wore makeup. But Bob... he likes my hair and my freckles. He likes the books I read. He thinks I'm smart." She felt her face warm up as she thought about his poems. "We had sex, and then he was looking at me, and he started talking about us. I can't be an us with someone when I can't shake Kevin."
Anna could practically feel Jessica freaking out in the chair behind her, but she kept her eyes on the floor. "If you need help with Kevin or money for a lawyer or something-" Jessica said, but Anna cut her off.
"No. I'm fine. But he's going to force me to decide if I'd rather have my freedom or my self worth. And right now, I can't decide what I want to let him get away with when he already took so much."
"Hey," her much calmer friend said softly, and Anna finally met her eyes. "We're here for you. Anything you need, okay? But I need you to promise you'll talk to Bob. The sooner the better." Then Anna watched her reach for her tie dye lunch box which she apparently brought in with her and pulled out one of her fancy containers. "Bradley made you some hummus, and I packed you crackers and veggies to go with it. Please make sure you're eating. And please talk to Bob. I need to go teach Differential Equations, but I'll text you later. Jess, you have Physics III in fifteen minutes."
Anna received two hugs that she barely returned, and when the two women were gone, she sank into her chair and managed to eat some of the hummus without gagging. Then she texted Bob, because if nothing else, she needed him to know how sorry she was for running out on him. How sorry she was for all of it.
---------------------------
Anna wanted to talk to him on Thursday evening. Bob had to fight the urge to offer to pick her up on campus and save her from having to take an Uber to his house, especially after the few details that Jessica told him about her finances. She confirmed that Anna was married. She also promised him that there was no angry spouse waiting to jump him in the In 'N Out parking lot. She also told him that he needed to give Anna a chance to clear the air. So he agreed. He was free on Thursday. It wasn't like he'd been doing anything except going to work and coming straight home all week, even avoiding Suzanne as much as he could. And he wasn't going to break his promise to Jessica, even though Nat told him to delete Anna's number.
Bob sat in his living room, staring at his new bookshelf in disgust. He'd let himself fall into a fantasy where he imagined someday Anna's books would get mixed up with his on the shelves. Where all of her dog eared novels would live alongside his pristine ones. He'd been subconsciously thinking about it since he met her.
His insides were churning with anxiety. Part of him wanted to scream at her that none of this was fair to him, but the other part knew that no matter what, he still didn't want to see tears in her brown eyes. He couldn't let her take all of the blame for this anyway. He'd even told Jessica that she pushed a little too hard and that she shouldn't do that again in the future.
When there was a knock on his door, it was hard for him to stand up. How was he supposed to do this? He dragged himself across his living room to his front door and carefully opened it to find Anna with the saddest expression imaginable on her face. She looked somehow smaller and paler than she should. She looked like she hadn't slept. And that's when Bob realized he must look the same way to her.
"Hi," she whispered, brown eyes darting around his face nervously. She held out a small bouquet of blue flowers and the books she had borrowed in his direction, and Bob noticed her hands were shaking. "Um, I got these for you. They look like the flowers on the cover of the Whitman poems, and I thought of you when I saw them at the store."
"Anna," Bob groaned as he took them from her along with the books. He moved out of the doorway so she could come inside, and somehow he still couldn't decide if he was angry at her or not.
"I'm sorry," she gasped, turning to look at him once she was halfway across the room. There were several feet of space between them, but he could smell her hair. She was wearing the jeans she wore last time she went to the Hard Deck. He knew what that shirt felt like between his fingers. He could tell she was trying not to cry as she said, "I'm just really sorry."
"Why didn't you tell me you're married?" he snapped, unable to hold back. He knew his tone was harsh as he added, "Why didn't you tell anyone?"
"Because I should have been divorced by now!" she practically shouted, and Bob was instantly more soothed by that sentence than he should have been. "You think I want to be married to the worst man I know?" He had so many questions already, but something told him to just let her keep going. "That's why I'm here. In San Diego. He was supposed to sign the papers so I could get on with my ridiculous life, but he won't!" She sucked in a deep breath before she said, "And it's eating me alive knowing what I kept settling for when you exist! Knowing that I could have been with a man like you."
Her lips were moving like she was shivering, and her eyes were wide and watery. Red blotches covered her freckled cheeks, and Bob just knew she was going to panic again. She made a helpless noise and rushed forward, ready to run, but this time he caught her in his arms, the books and flowers falling to the floor. He let her struggle for a few seconds as she cried, but he held on tight.
"Anna," he said softly. "You can't keep running."
Her body slumped against his. She looked up at him as he held her, and a few seconds later, she let her cheek come to rest against his chest. She nodded against him as she whispered, "I don't really have anywhere to go anyway."
-------------------------
Bob kept his distance while also somehow always being nearby. Anna knew he was probably expecting her to vanish again if he turned his back for too long, but she was too mentally and physically exhausted to move from his living room couch while he fixed some tea. It was getting dark outside, and it was nearly impossible to try to think about anything other than Sunday night when she felt truly free for the first time in years. 
Similar thoughts must have been on Bob's mind, because he was still occasionally looking at her like he used to. Then his cheeks would turn pink, and he'd duck his head before showing her a completely neutral expression. She took the mug of tea he handed her and whispered, "Thank you," as he sat down as far away from her as he could. She cleared her throat as she looked into her drink and said, "You're one of the kindest, most generous people I've ever met." She forced her gaze to his face. "I'm sorry I took that for granted. And I'm sorry I wasn't honest with you and the ladies."
Bob nodded but didn't speak for a minute. His voice was as gentle as always as he eventually said, "I'd like it if we could talk."
"Yeah," she agreed softly now that she felt like the fight inside her was gone and the tears had finally dried up.
"Where's your husband?"
She pictured Kevin standing in the perfect kitchen in the beautiful house on the cul-de-sac. "In New Jersey."
"Right," Bob replied in a reassuring tone. "You said you should have been divorced by now, so does that mean you don't want to be married to him?"
"I hate him," she whispered, back to staring into her mug. "And I'm sure he hates me, too. No, I don't want to be married to him any longer."
"You're separated?" he asked softly.
Anna shrugged, wishing more than anything that she could scoot a little closer to Bob and feel his hand on hers. "Not legally. He won't sign anything."
"Right," Bob repeated again. "Would it be too much for me to ask what happened? Because I really don't understand. I'm trying, but I'm still so confused, Anna."
Her brain was screaming at her to start crying again, begging her to fall apart or hyperventilate, but she didn't even have the energy for it. She took one long sip of her perfect cup of tea before setting it aside and turning to look at him. Even now, he had sympathy in his eyes. Whether that was because he now knew she and Kevin weren't really together or because he was always this sweet, she couldn't say. But he was everything she wanted and would never have again. 
"The short version is that I put him through medical school while he cheated on me. The long version is that he used up every bit of my money, let me work myself ragged, prevented me from finishing my PhD at Princeton, belittled me, and flaunted his extramarital relationship in my face. It was humiliating knowing he was cheating. It's humiliating eating sandwiches and peanuts for every meal now. But the worst thing is that he is holding my manuscript hostage, and no matter what I do, he won't let me have it back."
"Jesus, Anna," he gasped, making the slightest move like he wanted to reach for her before pulling back.
She slowly stood, and he looked up at her, trying to gauge what she was going to do, but she just looked down at him as she tucked her shaking hands behind her back. "You're perfect," she whispered. "You're Sky Writing. You're the handsome man from the bookstore who smells like tea and soap. You're Bob, the guy my friends knew I would fall in love with as soon as I met them." She took a step back, barely able to handle how he was looking at her like she still mattered. "But I don't know how to be an us with you. I know that's what you want, but I never wanted to fall like this again. I tried my best not to. I can't do this with Kevin's shadow behind me all the time. And I'm just really sorry I let it go as far as it did. Because now that I know so much about you...."
That's when the tears arrived, and that's also when Bob stood up. "Anna, I feel like-"
When he cut himself off, leaving the sentence hanging in the air for a few seconds, she took one long, last look at him and whispered, "I'm going to go." He didn't stop her from stepping over the flowers, walking out the door, and heading to the end of his street where she waited for a ride as the night air made her shiver, and her tear streaked cheeks finally started to dry again.
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Oh, they both fell for each other. I'm not sure if Bob feels better or worse now. Kevin is an absolute dick, and we will hear from him in the next chapter. Keep fighting, Anna. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 12
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333 notes · View notes
wosoamazing · 4 months
Text
Accident
Summary: Kyra accidentally hurts you resulting in a concussion
Warnings: Injury, Vomiting (Once)
A/N: Just a short-ish one, not my fav, hope you like it. Also I'm still working on the beach/body image fic, its just taking longer than expected.
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You, Kyra, and Charli were just messing around after practice when Kyra accidentally shoved you into the goal post, causing you head to hit it quite hard. You kind of just stood there in shock while the two others stared at you not knowing what to do, before you dropped to the ground, sitting crossed legged holding your head in your hands as you began to cry.
“Charli, go get Steph and the medics” Kyra order bending down putting a hand on your shoulder, which you shrugged off. “No, go away.”
_____
“Charli what’s the rush?” Steph said when Charli got to them slightly out of breath and panicked.
“Kyra hurt Y/N,” with those three words Steph was sprinting to you.
“What?” more girls turned around at her words.
“She shoved her as a joke but then Y/N’s head hit the goal post and it kinda bounced back off the goal post and now, she is crying”.
“We need some medics over here” Sam yelled before following Steph.
“What’s wrong with Kyra? She’s crying” Caitlin spoke, and with that more girls were headed over along with the medics.
_____
“Hey Y/N, it’s me, can you lie down for me?” Steph said as she reached you, with Steph’s help you laid down on your back.
“Hey Kid, what’s wrong?” Sam asked as she reached you.
“I-it H-hurts” you cried out. “Where does it hurt?” she asked trying to get more information “M-my head, h-here” you said through tears as you pointed to your left temple area, where a slight bump was already forming.
“Okay, it’s okay, we’ve got you and the medics are coming,” she said reassuring you.
The medics came over and moved Kyra and some of the other girls out of the way, but Steph and Sam stayed either side of you, each hold one of your hands.
Kyra started crying at the scene evolving around her when she cried out “I-I’m sorry, i-it was an ac-cident,” Sam looked up to her before reassuring her “It’s okay Kyra” she then looked at the other girls “Can you guys maybe go check on Charli and help Kyra, oh and keep Tony updated. We have it all covered here” they all followed their captains orders and dispersed.
After the medics did some more checking they spoke to Sam and Steph “She’s definitely got a concussion grade 1, maybe grade 2, we’ll talk to Tony but it would be good if she could stay in your room for the next few nights as she will need someone to keep an eye on her and well….,” she tapered off both of the older two women knew she was suggesting the fact that you wouldn’t want to share a room for Kyra for the next few nights after what happened, before she continued “and we will check her out again tomorrow, I think she is still slightly in shock. She may get some nausea, or she may throw up but it’s only a concern if she throws up more than twice a day, and make sure she drinks lots of water and stays off screens. Oh, and wake her up roughly every four hours to check everything is okay and call us if you need anything”.
“Thank you,” Steph and Sam both chimed before helping you get up. They both took you to their room and you had a quick shower while Steph sat on the toilet she insisted she stayed their while you showered encase you fell, and you didn’t have enough energy to fight back, Sam quickly went to your room to get you some clothes and a few of your things you might need for the next few nights before returning, Sam handed you some clothes which you got dressed into and then they helped you get into bed, both finding a position either side of you before you leant on Steph and quickly nodded off.
“Were they in there?” Steph asked moving her gaze from you over to Sam who nodded her head in response. “How was she, well they?”
“Charli was alright, just a little sad that this one got hurt, but Kyra was still crying Caitlin, Mini, Alanna and Macca were trying to calm her down, when I walked in she deffo started crying more, well the glare I got from Mini told me that, and she kept saying she was sorry, I feel kind of bad but I mean they shouldn’t have been messing around”
“Yeah, I think we should tell Tony not to punish Kyra though, I think hurting her friend was punishment enough, she seemed really upset on the pitch” Steph said softly.
“Yeah, I know, I think all three of them learnt a lesson, we always tell them to be more careful because someone will get hurt, and well…” she replied motioning towards your figure lying between them.
“Hey, can you wake up?” Sam said slightly nudging you. You thought it must’ve hit the four-hour mark but when your eyelids eventually rose from their place you saw 6 figures scattered around the room, making you unsure as to why you were woken up. Kyra was hiding behind Caitlin who was trying to coax her out of her hiding, she was sniffling every now and then. “Kyra just has something she wants to say to you, is that okay?” Sam informs you; you were unsure why so many people needed to be in the room for her to do so but you just nodded which was a mistake as a sudden wave of nausea ran through you, but it quickly subsided. That was until Alanna and Macca slammed the door behind them, Tony wanted an update and they said they would go, the loud thud of the door and the vibration of the room made you feel like you could be sick at any moment.
“Go ahead Kyra,” at Sam’s words the nausea increased, and you were about to be sick, you gaged.
“I think I’m going to be-” “Someone the bowl from the bathroom,” but it was too late the contents of your stomach were all over your shirt and the bed, and you burst into tears, Kyra cried at the sight, knowing that this was her fault, even if she didn’t mean it, her push was the reason you had a concussion and why you had just been sick. Mini came back with the bowl, sighing at the sight, but still handing the bowl over just encase.
“Are you all good or do you think you’re going to be sick again?” Steph said after a few moments, she was rubbing your back trying to calm you down, in any other moment that you were crying this hard she would’ve given you a big hug, but in this current situation she didn’t really want to do that.
“I-I think I’m g-good” you said through sobs.
“I think we’ll let you be and come back later,” Caitlin said as she put her hands on the now also sobbing Kyra and lead her out the door, Charli followed quickly behind, and she gently shut the door behind her.
“Here, I’ll help,” Mini said as you were tugging at your shirt trying to figure out how to get it off, Steph and Sam had already gotten up and were trying to deal with the bed.
“I-I’m, I’m sorry, I d-didn’t mean t-too” you sniffled, you truly didn’t mean to create such a mess, the three women gave you sorry looks before Mini said, “It’s okay, but Y/N/N it isn’t your fault, come on let’s get that shirt off hey,” she helped you get your shirt over your head without transferring anything from your shirt onto you, she was oddly good at it but you supposed having a toddler would mean she had some practice. “Also,” mini started as she looked over to Steph and Sam, “you can have Harper’s room, we are trying to sleep train her, so Tony gave us a second room, but we don’t need it as much as you guys do.” Your two captains smiled at her offer and thanked her profusely.
As the four of you left the room, with two suitcases in hand to head down to your new room you saw the cleaners walking down the hall, Sam mouthed a sorry at them. The new room was only a few doors down and as soon as you entered you climbed into its fresh bed, and the others got sorted, helping Mini move Harper’s stuff out. After a little while they both climb back into bed with you, this time making sure they keep the bowl close by, which in the following three days you didn’t end up needing. Steph and Sam had taken turns going to training so someone was always with you while you were still recovering and Kyra came to apologise and said she should’ve been more careful, you accepted her apology and agreed with her. Thankfully three days later you were cleared and deemed safe to go back to training, and it was safe to say there was no more messing around between you, Kyra and Charli, well at least on the pitch, and near any poles.
543 notes · View notes
lisenberry · 20 days
Text
We drift in and out
Chapter 2: Share the same space for a minute or two
E/NSFW/MDNI
CW: Domestic fluff, postpartum thoughts and bodies, angst, hurt/comfort sex
2.7k
Ch.1. Ch.3 AO3
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“I’ll take first watch,” John said, setting down the diaper bag and the baby carrier on your dining table as you tossed your keys in the bowl and breathed a sigh of relief.
It was late by the time you returned home from the hospital. Between the hourly blood pressure checks and constant feedings, you hadn’t gotten much rest while you were there.
And let’s not forget that every trip to the bathroom was harrowing, and fraught with more discomfort than you’d anticipated. The nurses practically babysat you until you’d had a successful piss. Apparently, it was an integral part of the healing process and could cause life threatening complications if you didn’t empty your bladder regularly.
You didn’t know what you looked like down there, but you could certainly feel it. You’d cried out so sharply, John burst through the door to find you sobbing and shaking on the toilet.
After that, you doubted he would ever look at you romantically again.
But you made it through, fueled by adrenaline and instincts. You just wanted to be back in your own space. To the nest you’d built away from the poking and prodding of strangers. Of the astringent smells of industrial cleaning products and the cold glare of fluorescent lighting.
John had stepped out just long enough to buy a car seat so that he could drive you and the baby home in his truck. He’d laughed when you told him it was unnecessary, and you’d planned on taking the bus back to your apartment.
“Nonsense, I insist,” had been his only reply as he kissed your forehead as if to leave you too flustered to argue.
You had a feeling you were the talk of the nurses’ station. The juicy drama of your life must’ve seemed more captivating than the latest episode of television. They were all genuinely sorry to see the three of you go.
The three of you.
“That’s not how it works, John,” you assured him. This wasn’t a stake out. He was going back to his apartment, and you were putting the baby to sleep in the cradle you’d put together yourself until she awoke hungry and wet in two hours.
And that’s how it would be for the next 18 years of your life.
“You need some rest.” He tucked his arms across his chest and cocked his head downward, as if to intimidate you with his size alone. You imagined it was a practiced tactic, and that it probably worked on his subordinates. Sent them scrambling to please him.
But John didn’t scare you. Never did. It was what kept you going back to him. Or perhaps more like waiting for him, all those years. An easiness. A comfort.
“I’ll sleep when she sleeps. That’s what all the books say.” Despite your confidence, you yawned against your will as you unhooked your daughter from the carrier.
You still hadn’t gotten used to how light she was, and yet how substantial she felt in your arms.
When you looked back up to John to tell him ‘Thank you’, and that you could take it from here, you were met with something you’d never seen in him before.
A longing. Something unshed in his eyes, and unsaid on his lips, as he took a step toward you as if to reach out.
“Do you want to hold her?” In all the commotion, you realized that John hadn’t held her yet. Aside from the few times he’d lifted her gently from the hospital’s bedside crib to pass her to you, as if she was a live grenade.
Maybe it’d made him uncomfortable. To come back, expecting to return to your casual arrangement, only to find you knocked up with some other guy’s kid. To be honest, you hadn’t expected more than a passing hello in the hallway.
For him to take one look at you and never call you again or darken your door for a quickie at midnight. He’d move on to someone from the gym, or the café girl down the street.
Except, he hadn’t seemed uncomfortable. He’d seemed in control, focused. Calm and steady as he’d adjusted your shitty hospital-issued pillow or fetched you a refill on your water. Averted his eyes respectfully while you worked tirelessly to get the fussy newborn to latch onto your breast.
Had he not wanted to intrude? Was he waiting for permission?
“I really do need to take a shower,” you added when he hesitated.
He’d be gone by the morning. Might as well take advantage of his help while it was offered.
“Good.” He nodded at that, relieved to be of service, as he took the sleeping babe from your arms with a grace you didn’t expect from his big, gnarled hands.
A grizzled bear, holding something so soft and small in a white sleeper dotted with blush pink roses. She didn’t even shift at the change from one of you to the next. Content and unbothered in her dreams.
After taking your time in the shower, knowing it might be your last for a while, you emerged to see the two of them on your couch, watching the nightly football coverage on the telly. John was talking to someone, voice raised with heated enthusiasm, and you assumed he was on the phone with one of his mates.
But as you inched closer, you realized he was recounting his opinions on the latest match to the infant on his chest.
“You can put her down if you want,” you smiled, as you motioned to the bassinet. “You don’t have to hold her all night.”
“I tried, but I can’t tell if she’s breathing when she’s over there. Quiet little thing.”
There was nothing in the baby books and videos about seeing a man who’d been inside you hold your child as if it was the most precious thing in the world. How it could change your brain chemistry. Make you stupid in ways you never thought you could be.
You sunk down onto the cushion next to them. He urged you to go to bed, to get some sleep before she woke up again, but you didn’t want to leave just yet. You wanted to see them like this. To be a part of whatever mischief was transpiring between them.
Laying your head on his shoulder, you closed your eyes and let sleep slowly find you.
“Sorry I missed it, love.” He kept his voice low, but it rung with a depth of emotion that cut through your slumber.
“Hmm, missed what?”
“Everything.”
*******
He didn’t leave the next day, or the day after that, except to shower and change clothes in his apartment, or pick up food from your favorite chip shop down the road. Every time he did go, you expected him not to come back.
Assuming he had returned to his usual schedule of sleep, eat, gym, fuck, repeat. With the fucking being someone else, of course. That you’d hear footsteps down the hallway outside and look through your peephole, covered in baby spit-up and leaking breastmilk, to see him leading a beautiful young woman into his flat.
Instead, weeks went by of him driving you to doctors’ appointments and joining you for walks in the park. Decaf iced lattes and naps on the couch. The faint smell of cigar smoke was the only indication that he’d taken a bit of time to himself.
The pang in your heart, and in your gut, when he carried the bags of dirty diapers down to the bin and sang Paul McCartney tunes horribly off key to get the baby back to sleep while you soaked in the bath tub.
Every day was a gift, you reminded yourself. He was just being nice. Playing house until it was time for him to go, the way you always had before. Except this time, he hadn’t even kissed you or made any advances other than a playful hug or a supportive rub of your shoulders as you pumped an extra supply of baby bottles.
None of your clothes fit anymore. You were too slim for your maternity jeans, and not quite down to your original weight. Maybe you never would be. Maybe you were the new you.
Nothing but forgiving loungewear and tinted moisturizer to hold you together.
It didn’t stop you from wanting him.
You’d think the trauma to your reproductive organs would swear you off sex for at least a few years, but there you were. Three months postpartum, salivating over his shirtless chest and slickening at the bulge in his sweatpants as he ate a bowl of tikka masala at your kitchen counter.
Maybe that was how you persevered as a species. The carnal urge to make the same mistake over and over again, consequences be damned. It would appear you hadn’t evolved beyond it.
Your doctor guaranteed you that you were fully healed and could resume sex with your husband (you’d long given up trying to explain away the six-and-a-half-foot beast keeping your child company in the waiting room as anything but) any time you felt comfortable. Had even started you on a new birth control. Hopefully one that worked this time.
But feeling comfortable and feeling desirable were two different things. John wasn’t your husband. He wasn’t your boyfriend. He had expressed no desire to be anything more than just a...friend? What was he even doing sleeping on your couch?
‘Go find someone fun and exciting and leave me to rot in peace,’ you wanted to scream at him.
A menace was what he was.
Finally, you stopped trying to get yourself off with your vibrator and threw it against the wall in frustration. A groan escaped you as you turned over and muffled a scream into your pillow.
You instantly regretted it the moment a soft knock sounded on your bedroom door.
“You all right in there?” He opened the door a crack and the light from the hallway peeked through.
“No, not really,” you whined, pitifully. Grateful that you hadn’t woken up the baby with your little tantrum.
You noted the displacement of the shadows as he bent down to pick your still buzzing vibrator from the floor and switched it off with a muffled laugh.
“Not doing the trick, is it?”
“I’m glad you think this is funny. I don’t even know my own body anymore." Fuck, you did not want to be having this conversation with him.
“What do you need, love?” He set your stupid, useless toy on the bedside table and leaned against the mattress. It tilted you towards him with his weight.
“I need to know that I’m still me. Somewhere in here. That I can still...” you felt dumb. You were a mother. You had a child to worry about. And all you cared about was whether or not you could still—
“Come?”
You nodded vigorously, feeling dumber by the minute. And he was there, in the dark of your room, smelling like pine trees and black pepper. Somehow, underneath it all, like your baby. Even though she wasn’t his.
Confusing and frustrating, and—
His mouth trapped yours then, cutting off any further conversation as his hands hitched under your nightshirt and yours found the waistband of his pants.
“I need you, John,” you gritted between teeth, both yours and his.
“Stubborn you are. Been waiting for you to ask.” He buried his face between the swollen flesh of your tits. Licking and lapping at your skin.
“Careful, they—”
“Squirt? I know. Not what I’m interested in, darling. They’re not mine anymore.”
He moved past your breasts and down your stomach. The raised scars where your skin had stretched too far, too fast. Making room for life within.
You were grateful he couldn’t see them in the dark. Even still, it felt like he found each one with his lips.
“Perfect, you are. You did so good.” You didn’t know what he meant. Only preened at the words as your cunt rose toward him and he moved lower towards your hips.
“Easy, John. Easy, please.”
You knew how big he was. He was the same, but you were different. Changed. You couldn’t do it. It’d been too long. Healed over and shaped anew.
“I know, baby. There’s nothing you can’t handle.”
His tongue met you then, in the cleft at your center. Teasing and taunting, he circled where you needed him the most. Hitting it just right and then moving away when you were teetering on the edge.
His beard and mustache grazing the sensitive nerves around the nub, inflaming you further until you pulsed at the absence of his touch.
Only for him to replace his mouth with the tip of his cock. Hard and thick, it nudged and prodded as it sought a weakness in your soft, wet entry way.
“You’ll tell me if it hurts, won’t you? I know how you like to be brave.” He bit out with a grin.
Brave? You were a disaster. Is that how he saw you?
“Please don’t stop.” The words rushed out as a shudder.
You’d take it, you’d take anything to feel full, to feel him. The pull and tug of being consumed.
Still, he hesitated. Pausing just at the tip. Speechless and restrained.
“Stop being so nice.” You squirmed and sought to meet him, pull him closer.
“There’s a girl. See? Not gone after all.” His teeth dug into your neck and you arched your hips against his.
So familiar. So at home.
He sunk in then, as if with your permission. You clasped and guided him in like the other half of you.
“How does it feel?” You didn’t mean to sound as wanton as you did. You needed to know.
“Like heaven, love. Like fucking heaven.”
He lips found yours again, savoring, remembering, committing you to memory as he reclaimed your pussy for his own. As much his as it was yours.
Offering himself in return.
Pumping in a slow rhythm at first, matching you, following you. Your legs around his waist and his hands tugging your hips to hit that perfect fucking spot.
It was still there. It hadn’t moved. He’d found it like lighthouse in a storm.
“You ready, or do you need more?”
“Don’t stop.”
He grunted then, drawing some sort of strength as he kept his rhythm and touched a free hand to your clit for help.
“Yes, yes, yes!”
He found you. When you couldn’t find yourself.
“That’s it, baby. That’s it.”
“Fuck, John!” You came with a rush of power and nature as he found your mouth again. He drank your sobs and replaced them with sounds of his own.
Tears filled your eyes and slid down your cheeks.
“You all right?” He asked against your neck, when you began to still, but you could only nod.
“I’m good. Thank you.” Simple words for how you felt.
“So fucking brave.” He wiped away your tears and nuzzled your cheeks with his bearded lips.
The couch sat cold and abandoned after that.
*******
But you found him a few weeks later, ashen-cheeked and staring troubled at his phone.
The baby was packed up in the pram and ready for a walk. She could smile now, and glowed with excitement and kicked her feet whenever her dark brown eyes met his glittering blue.
“I have to go. Got called in.” He turned a weary gaze towards you. Regret softening his usual starry skies and adding years to his features.
You knew this day would come, but it surprised you all the same.
A blow to your chest, taking the air from your lungs and tearing out your heart.
“I don’t know when I’ll be back.” The death blow to any hope you’d had that it was a training exercise or a weekend conference.
What if he was gone for another year? So much could happen. The baby would be walking. Talking. You’d be back to work by then. Trusting a stranger with her care because you didn’t have anyone else.
And who would he be when he returned? Always a little different than before.
“It’s okay. We’ll be okay. Just be safe, yeah?” You steeled your spine and tamped down on the tears that threatened behind your eyeIids.
You’d never cried for him before. Never worried about him.
No messy feelings. No expectations. Great sex and a pleasant company, right?
“I’ll say no. They can assign it to someone else.” Even as he said it out loud, you knew he wouldn’t let that happen.
“I had a plan, remember?” A reassuring smile to match the one he’d given you so many times before. “And you were never a part of it.”
He’d called you brave. You’d find out soon enough if he was right.
255 notes · View notes
phntmeii · 8 months
Text
Slashers and Hanahaki Disease
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[SFW + No Gendered Terms]
Hanahaki Disease: A fictional disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It ends when the beloved returns their feelings (romantic love only; strong friendship is not enough), or when the victim dies.
Characters: Poly!Ghostface(Billy Loomis, Stu Macher), PreMichael!Corey Cunningham, Hannibal Lecter(TV Ver.), Jason Voorhees, RZ!Michael Myers
General Warnings: Mainly fluffy w/ happy endings, Mentions of death, Mentions of vomiting/gagging
A/N: Half the listed characters will have Hanahaki disease while the other half the reader has Hanahaki disease. Some other notes, I sped up how quickly Hanahaki affects people to a few weeks at max and included what type of flower I think would best fit in these situations :) Most are related to heartbreak, loss, death/rebirth, unrequited love.
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Poly!Ghostface - Billy Loomis and Stu Macher
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Flower Type: Purple Hyacinth
You had taken some days off of class, feeling too sick to go. Your parents didn’t believe you but you looked the definition of ill.
And heartbreak was just the cherry on top for you. Whether you had feelings for Billy or for Stu was already confusing but on top of that, you felt like you weren’t either of their types.
You had seen the people they went out with over the years and you were just never like them. Your own love life was failure after failure but it's not like they were offering themselves up in their place.
You were just the bestfriend in your mind. That’s all. And soon enough, violet petals were being thrown up into the toilet bowl every few hours and you could feel your lungs filling, getting hard to breathe over time.
Both Billy and Stu thought it was weird you skipped class. You’d at least give a heads up beforehand. Billy was more worried than Stu was.
He visited through your window at night to check in on you just to catch you in a pile of violet flowers across your bed covers while you laid there, casually watching a movie while you occasionally coughed some more up.
“What the fuck is that? Are you okay? Me and Stu thought you up and died.”
Looking over, you gave a weak smile in response. “Feels like I am.”
Soon you heard some clanging from the window Billy came in from and found Stu stumbling in, nearly knocking some things down before he hopped back up.
Stu gave a goofy smile as he held up some bottles before Billy looked at him with unamused eyes and snatched the bottles out of his hands as if to say, “Not now.”
Sitting down with you, asking what was wrong. You tried to explain but it sounded so silly. Throwing up flowers? And for seemingly no reason.
“Well… There’s diseases that are caused by stress? You think it’s something like that? Come on. You’ve been acting like shit for the past few weeks.”
You sat there between them and could think of one main thing but… How stupid that sounded. You didn’t want to say it.
Stu shook your shoulders playfully before getting smacked in the back of the head by Billy. “Come on! Tell us! What’s so embarrassing~?”
You sighed and reluctantly explained. You had a crush on them—your bestfriends—and you were definitely not their type. You were completely embarrassed, covering your mouth as you coughed up a few more violet petals.
Billy and Stu stared at each other after you said that, as if silently communicating to one another. Billy slowly smirked while Stu started laughing and wrapped his arms around you from the side.
“Seriously?! Holy shit, dude! You seriously haven’t noticed we were totally into you too?!”
You couldn’t even process what Stu said with how tight he squeezed you with his hug. By the time you finally noticed, you were once again distracted when you felt two different hands holding your jaw as Billy leaned in from one side while Stu leaned in the other and kissed your cheeks.
“ We’ve been into you forever…” Those small words felt like they made room within your lungs again.
PreMichael!Corey Cunningham
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Flower Type: Red Salvia
Corey had met you in passing and you didn’t mind becoming friends with him. He was an awkward nerd and it was a trait you found charming to be friends with.
But to Corey, it was hell when he discovered the petals that soon formed and flew out of his mouth.
He had developed a crush on you immediately when he met you. You were simultaneously his heaven and hell. Someone so nice to him and yet the reason he found it harder and harder to breathe.
He avoided you for a week or so. He was so used to self-isolating himself when something went wrong. Deal with it himself as he always did.
Corey figured it was connected to you. It started the day after he felt those feelings rise in him. To make sure, he visited the doctor’s and found the term: Hanahaki Disease. And it was because of you.
He didn’t want to say anything about it. His fate was sealed in his eyes. But… maybe?
He decided to send a text to meet up. Better to talk about it in person even if it made him nervous to.
“Hey… I- I really didn’t want to y’know bother you or anything-“ “Corey, you don’t bother me. It’s alright. What is it?”
Corey shyly looked down and smiled to himself. God, it hurt to think that you wouldn’t like him. You were so perfect for him.
“I know this is gonna sound weird and if I'm honest I thought it was weird too. I-I’m… dying. From uh… Not having requited love...” As if on queue, he coughed, revealing red petals flying out of his mouth to the ground.
You were obviously immediately worried. To hear such heavy words from Corey made your heart drop. You had to ask who. Maybe he could still convince them to share the same feelings.
Corey scratched the back of his head, looking away. He didn’t want to say it. Especially since he didn’t want to leave you with the news that it was because of you that he had an expiration date coming soon.
“It’s… you. It’s always been you.”
A few whole Red Salvia flowers came out of his mouth after the confession. He grew increasingly embarrassed, wanting to take back his words already. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. Just let his life take its course and end quick without you knowing.
But then, those moments of silence were interrupted by you approaching and placing a gentle kiss on his lips. His lips were slightly chapped from nerves and his overthinking made him think he should’ve done something about them sooner but he was more focused on how soft you felt. His heart swelled at the touch while his hands went to your cheeks, deepening the kiss further out of pure need.
Hannibal Lecter
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Flower Type: Red Spider Lily
Hannibal was not one to ever be sick. It rarely happened, if ever. He took care of his health perfectly.
When he started to feel himself grow ill, he immediately knew something was wrong. Coughing was one thing but it was a completely different thing to find himself feeling the urge to vomit and finding flowers fly out of his mouth.
Staring at the red flowers in the toilet bowl, he already knew it wasn’t something normal. In fact, he already knew what it was.
The knowledgeable man he was, Hanahaki was a term that came to mind but with a sense of confusion.
He didn’t necessarily care for people like others did. His “care” for other people was a mask of feigned empathy. Not real.
But if he had this disease, something was different. And it was love of all things? It complicated everything.
There was only one person that came to mind that could possibly fit the supposed feeling he felt: You. His patient.
He kept it hidden still. Suffering in silence because falling in love was not something he was interested in. It would cloud his emotions.
And yet, he began asking about your love life during your sessions. Previous relationships, expectations of love, etc. A collection of information to mold himself into what you wanted.
He invited you over for dinners more and presented you with flowers each session. Each bouquet with meaning and cleanly composed together.
You were his muse. The focus of his musical compositions and the focus of his sketches when he had free time.
His eyes even sparkled softly toward you sometimes if you looked close enough.
But Hannibal knew his days were numbered and he had to say something before the flowers filled his lungs and killed him.
Eventually, he couldn’t take it. His vomiting became more frequent and he could feel how difficult it was to breathe.
After one of your dinners with him and he was walking you to the door, he stopped you. Taking your chin between his fingers, he gently tilted your face to look at him.
“My dear… Please indulge me in my desire for you. It’s grown insatiable.”
He started to lean in toward your lips. He’d memorized the shape a thousand times over through his sketches by now. Each quick line put to paper was a written wish to feel them on his own. “I’ll grow mad without knowing what you taste like.”
His eyes met yours when he was centimeters away from your lips, breath mixing into one another’s. “Tell me you wish the same.”
His eyes looked to you with a slight desperation to them. Once he received the confirmation, that soft whisper of a “Yes…”, he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours and felt like life had been breathed into him.
Jason Voorhees
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Flower Type: Lily of the Valley
Jason hadn't thought about romance much in his life, not thinking he'd be fortunate to experience it. He thought he had a face only his mother could love after all.
Finding you, you were never mean to him. If anything, you were solely kind to him and he was happy at the treatment.
Then worry set in when he noticed you weren't coming to the cabin as often. You usually visited and left some meals for him and candles to dedicate to his mother.
He worried heavily. Jason automatically believed he was in the wrong. Maybe he had scared you or had done something wrong. He was never good at social cues or interacting with people.
He sat there, waiting for you to come back. You wouldn't completely leave right? Or maybe something happened to you? What if you were dead?
Jason could only find his worries settled when he heard footsteps and saw you again. He immediately rushed out and hugged you.
He signed, "Where have you been?? I was so worried!"
Jason noticed you seemed paler than normal and you looked exhausted. "Are you okay? Are you sick?"
He didn't know how to take care of someone who was sick. His mother always took care of him. But he was willing to try.
"I... Yeah. I'm sick, Jason. I've been sick for a week or so now. Vomiting and all."
You couldn't see his expression but he was certainly concerned. He placed a hand on your shoulder. "I'll take care of you."
Whether you wanted to or not, Jason was already dragging you inside and sitting you down. He didn't know how to help, only that he wanted to help.
That's when you coughed and small white petals flew out of your mouth and into your lap. Jason tilted his head at that. Flowers? He had never heard of someone coughing up flowers before.
Jason forcibly kept you in the cabin until you could get better. You were his only friend. The only one who treated him like a person. He didn't want to lose that.
Few days pass and nothing. Petals had become full flowers with stems needing to be yanked out. You gagged each time you had to rip out the flower by its stem.
You thought you might die. A sickness you had never heard of along with it getting quickly worse? You couldn't help but recognize where this was going.
You laid beside Jason at night. He was attached to the hip with you in your stay. You figured now was a better time than never saying it at all.
You took his hand into yours, something that made Jason give you his full attention. "Jason. I just wanted you to know that... I love you. I need you to know that."
Jason could feel his heart jolt at that confession. It was said in a more sad tone than a happy one but all the same, it was the words said that mattered. "Do you mean it? Are you sure?"
Nodding your head with a weak smile, you placed a kiss on the cheek of his mask. Jason could feel his face heat up at that. No one had ever treated him like that before.
He grabbed your hands, maybe a bit too strong in his grasp, as he signed rapidly in excitement. "I love you too. You're the only one who likes me. I want you to stay. Please."
You felt slight pain in your lungs as the stems that had begun taking root in them slowly retracted and dissipated. He was your cure.
RZ!Michael Myers
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Flower Type: White Rose
Michael had inhabited your home for some time. He needed a home base to return to when he wasn’t stalking for victims.
You couldn’t say much against it, fearing you’d be next. And he wasn’t the worst guest?
Besides blood needing to be cleaned, he was silent. You could barely even notice him there if it wasn’t for his giant size.
Over time, you noticed how he grew closer to you. Literally. He loomed over you while you cooked or cleaned. You’d get jumpscared by how you’d turn a corner and see him standing there. He also started preventing you from leaving if he was there.
Michael would stand in front of the door, staring you down until you understood to stay home. Seeing you listen, he gave the most affection he’d ever show: patting your head.
And you grew an odd attachment to him. You’d worry if he was out for too long and worried if he ever came back injured.
You two were attached. In what way, you couldn’t answer that question but you didn’t mind being close to him. Even if he never showed affection or attachment, you knew he felt something. Otherwise, you would’ve been dead already.
Michael never spoke nor gave indication of what he was feeling ever. You could only ever notice the extremes. And when you noticed Michael in his room for longer than normal, you wanted to help even if he always pushed you away.
You knocked but no answer. Knocked twice and still nothing. You took that as a “no entry” and sadly turned away.
Right as you did, the door opened and Michael looked to you with his same deadpan stare you always knew. His hands littered with white rose petals. You didn’t understand until he coughed again, more petals coming out.
You didn’t know how to react to it other than to grow concerned. His hands dropped the petals and grabbed your shoulders, squeezing them. His eyes looked to you and for the first time, there was a slight hint of fear there.
It was odd to see such a large man who had survived hell and back to show fear now. You guided him to the couch, wanting him to feel comfortable.
You grabbed his hand, forgetting how he was a murderer, forgetting how his hands were responsible for the deaths of so many. “Michael…”
He exhaled in response, looking at you through the strands of hair covering his face. He forcibly grabbed your hand, pulling you to him. Ending up in his lap, he held onto you, still silently staring. He buried his head in your chest, squeezing you tight. He didn’t want to let go.
You let your arms hold him to you, caressing the back of his head. You placed a small kiss to the top of his head.
“Michael… It’s okay. I’m here.”
Michael couldn’t take finally having an affectionate touch after so long. Restraint was something he never knew and letting himself have an ounce of it was like opening Pandora’s box. He pulled away and slammed his lips into yours. He pushed you down on the couch, placing his hands on either side of your face, trapping you there.
And yet, you didn’t deny him. You matched his desperate, sloppy kiss. And Michael could feel the air in his lungs return only to be immediately used from his kissing and grunting. And you knew where this was going when you felt his slight runting against your leg.
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⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune
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woso-dreamzzz · 5 months
Text
Pregnant II
Hardersson x Baby!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: Pernille's pregnancy
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During the first month, you're about the size of a poppy seed.
Pernille's fine on her own during this period. She has a little bit of spotting and feels a bit more tired than usual but she's mainly okay. Since the announcement, her teammates have been more careful on the pitch with her.
Everyone knows that the risk of miscarrying is higher before the third month so they all take care not to knock into her as much or, at least, to not hit her head on.
Magda, it seems, is the only one completely stressed out of her mind. She sends regular texts to check in with Pernille. She calls every day (once in the morning and once in the evening).
If she didn't have commitments in England then Pernille's sure that Magda would have flown over daily.
By the second month, you're the size of a kidney bean.
The symptoms have gotten a little worse by now. The tiredness has been replaced by sore breasts and the spotting by morning sickness. It's still manageable and Pernille doesn't even think to tell Magda until she misses a morning call in favour of hunching over the toilet and spewing out her guts.
"Her heart's developing now," Magda's voice comes through the phone, echoing around the tiled walls of Pernille's bathroom," And her brain too. Do you think she'll be smart? I think she'll be smart."
"We don't know if it's a girl yet, Magda," Pernille says. She's still leaning against the toilet but Magda's voice is safe and soothing.
"I know it's a girl," Magda replies, an air of finality in her tone," A little Pernille."
"She's your egg. She'll be a little Magda."
Pernille can hear the smile in Magda's voice as she replies," I made you admit she's a girl."
At the end of month three, you're the same size as a lime.
The morning sickness is extremely bad now and Magda even flies out when she hears from Nilla that Pernille had thrown up on the side of the pitch one morning.
"This brings back memories," Magda quips as she holds Pernille's hair back.
"Of what?"
"Crazy parties in our youth."
"We're still young, Magda. Becoming parents doesn't automatically make us old," Pernille sits up and takes the washcloth from her partner.
"Yeah, but we're more mature now. No more crazy parties and throwing up."
"None recently," Pernille corrects. She smiles for a moment before hunching over the toilet bowl again.
Magda rubs her back. "I've taken a few weeks off," She says," You keep getting sick."
"Magda-"
"No, I've already made my decision. International break is soon anyway. Our next match isn't too difficult. They don't really need me."
Pernille can't find it in herself to argue about it much, with the way that she sags against the wall and stays within arm's length of the toilet.
Magda kisses her stomach. "You're making your Momma sick," She says," You've got to leave her alone. You're still growing in there."
At month four, you're around the size of an avocado.
The morning sickness has stopped completely now but the soreness in her breasts doesn't subside at all.
It's completely coincidental when, one evening as she's changing her shirt, Pernille catches the sight of herself in the mirror.
She's got a baby bump now.
Instantly, her hand goes to touch it, as if she could feel exactly where you are.
She takes a picture and sends it to Magda.
She can see that it's been read but Magda doesn't reply for hours until finally...
MAGDA ❤️ you look so beautiful that's my new lockscreen
It's month five. You're the same length as a banana.
She could have found out earlier but Pernille waits until Magda can make the trip to find out your gender.
"A girl." Magda is still convinced as they sit in the waiting room, her hand stroking over Pernille's knuckles. "I know she's a girl."
"We'll see."
Pernille feels a bit vindictive so has the doctor write your gender on a scrap of paper, folds it up and hands it to Frido (who has come to visit).
"Huh?" Frido says as she looks down at the scunched-up ball of paper.
"You're in charge of that," Pernille says," Magda doesn't see it, she doesn't take it before the gender reveal."
"You guys are planning a gender reveal?"
Pernille shakes her head. "No. You are."
By month six, you're as big as an ear of corn.
You move around a lot now and Pernille never forgets the look on Magda's face when, one evening, Pernille grasps her hand and places it over her swollen stomach.
You kick almost every day and Pernille rubs her stomach softly as Frido hands her and Magda a knife.
"I bought cake," Frido proclaims," Because this is a celebration and you can't go wrong with cake."
Someone (Pernille's not sure who) on the Wolfsburg team rolls it out.
"If it's blue, it's a boy. If it's pink, it's a girl," Frido explains even though it really didn't need explaining. She's taking her role as future moster very seriously and it's slightly amusing.
"It'll be pink," Magda says," I know it will."
Frido rolls her eyes. "Then cut it. But...just wait until the camera's on. Okay! Ready? Ready!"
Magda's hand is warm around Pernille's, who is holding the knife in her own. They make two cuts into the cake, one after the other, and then pull out the slice.
"A girl," Pernille says softly, smiling as her team celebrates around her. She looks up at Magda, whose eyes are glistening with unshed tears.
"A girl."
Month seven and the only thing different is now you're the size of a large aubergine.
Her doctor has said that you can hear now so she spends countless nights with a pair of headphones on her stomach, playing voice notes Magda has sent throughout the day for you.
It's amusing. They're mostly nonsense, Magda just talking about her day and all the things she looks forward to doing with you but it's incredibly sweet and Pernille ends up crying every time.
Month eight comes around and now you're the same size as a cabbage.
Pernille's back aches more than ever and you enjoy sitting on her bladder so she has to take a bathroom break more often.
The highlight of the month comes when Magda comes over and lifts her bump, allowing Pernille to sag against her and feel slightly weightless for a little bit.
At month nine, you're the same as a head of lettuce.
She and Magda have been arguing over names for months now. There's a list pinned to the fridge and each of them takes a lot of pride in crossing out the other's suggestions in healthy competition.
Your last name is still up for debate too, as is your middle (but, somehow, Frido's gotten in on that action and has been texting Pernille suggestions for weeks now).
Pernille's having trouble getting to sleep too and you get more active than before. Rather than kicking though, it's your little fists thumping against her stomach (something that, many years in the future, she will tell Zećira was you foreshadowing).
Her doctor told her it was normal but it's still a bit disconcerting to see the tiny imprints of your even tinier fingers poking from the inside out.
By month ten (and Pernille hates that she's been lied to and pregnancy does not, in fact, end in the ninth month), you're the same size as a pumpkin.
She feels ready to pop but restless at the same time.
Magda's meant to be flying out later today but Pernille is in desperate need of some fresh air so she pulls on some clothes and gets herself ready to head to the Wolfsburg grounds.
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808len808 · 6 months
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Breaking point
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!Pupppy Leon S. Kennedy x Gender Neutral Reader!
Summery: Your poor pup was to scared to tell you that he's going into heat.
Authers note: I don't know what this is, I wrote half of it while I was drunk and the rest I wrote in the span of a month so the first part of the story is a bit messy, but I promise it gets better. !Disclaimer: by puppy Leon I mean a hybrid, I do not support zoophilia!
!Warnings!: Nsfw themes, "Reader" can be all genders.
(Words: 4,405)
(sorry if it's cringe 😭)
The summer had ended, well at least the vacation. it was the most awesome vacation of Leon’s life! You were home every single day, he went where you went day in and day out. To the park, lake, and forest, but also at home. He got all the attention. But now you had to leave for work again for 5 days a week from 9 to 5 and he was stuck at home, waiting for his precious owner to come back.
He spent most of his time just lying down in spaces where your scent was strongest, couch, bedroom, those spots. Usually, he’d stay on the couch sleeping or thinking about you, how you would greet him with a smile when you came back, how you would pet that special spot between his ears, his tail already started wiggling at the thought of it. 
Fuck, this was too hard. He looked at the clock; only 3 more hours, but for him it felt like years, mostly because he couldn’t sleep anymore, and because he really had to go out for a walk. 
He got up from the couch and went to the kitchen to see if you had accidentally left any food for him to grab, but unfortunately nothing, he could try to stand up and grab something from inside the cabinets, but then he would feel bad for disobeying you, then he wouldn’t be a good boy.
Ever since the summer vacation, he felt the need to be around you so much stronger, he felt the need to be with you at all times, to receive praise, to be held, to be cradled, and most importantly to please you. 
His ears perked up, suddenly feeling something in his stomach, it was weird, he went over to your bedroom your scent only growing stronger just like the feeling on his stomach. When you first adopted him you didn’t let him into your bedroom at all hoping to make a clear line between owner and pet but along the summer that line started to fade. The few nights he would spend the night curled up against you on your bed were the best.
He felt incredibly proud even thinking back to one of those nights, just sleeping next to you, your fingers going through his hair until he fell asleep. 
A huff grasped through his nose whiffing up your scent, his nose going up in the air. A small shiver went down his spine as he continued sniffing, trying to pinpoint the strongest scent, it was a whole different scent that he smelled, it reminded him of sweat but different much nicer, much more attractive, like it was pulling him towards itself. 
He followed his nose eagerly, coming to the bathroom connected to your room, he stopped in his tracks. He’s never been in your bathroom. He stared at the scary door gulping, he still had plenty of time before you would arrive home, but he already felt bad contemplating breaking your rules, well you never specifically said he couldn’t go in there… the times he tried, you had told him to wait outside or wait in the living room because you were having “alone time” whatever that meant. 
But now he was alone, he took one glance behind him, checking if you hadn’t suddenly come back. Luckily you didn’t, so he went in gently opening the door. It was just a regular bathroom, shower, toilet, sink with a mirror, so where did the scent come from?
Leon’s eyes scanned the room until he spotted the hamper, placed in the corner. He quickly hopped his way over, looking to claim his price. He stuck his nose in the pile of clothes in the hamper, all yours and a few of his garments. 
He never used to wear clothes, it wasn’t normal for hybrids to do, but since he was more on the human side -the only dog thing about him being his tail, ears, and senses, having human parts, and being able to do human things, he could walk and talk but it was just a harder to do so, he preferred not to but ever since he got off the streets, and adopted you learned him to do so,  also made him wear clothes. He still preferred to be shirtless so he would crawl his way out of them every chance he got.-
anywayyyy back to the story.
His hands mixed in throwing things away until he found the source, one pair of underwear more specifically your underwear. He happily took it in his mouth without a single thought. Proud to have found what he was searching for he went back to his crate, taking the used garment in his hands as he laid on his soft mat sniffing it until he dared to lick. An intense feeling sent shocks through his body, he felt something beneath him twitch. He didn’t register what happened. A breathy huff escaped his lips, but it sounded more like a whine. Hot flashed his face, taking another lick just to test if it would happen again, it did. 
His belly tingled a small sense of excitement filled his mind, he continued to lap only making the ominous feeling between his legs grow nose buried in the piece of clothing, curled up in his bench. 
He didn’t even realize he had fallen asleep when you came back, he excitedly sprung up, tail wagging behind as you turned the key into the lock greeted by Leon’s big blues you closed the door behind you before getting down to pet him, he eagerly leaned in your touch small puffs leaving his nose as you pet his head to the place between his ears back to under his soft jawline. 
“I missed you so much!” Leon excitedly told you almost panting. 
He looked so excited you felt bad stopping now, you walked over to the couch, Leon almost blocking your way by circling around your legs. “Come here,” you giggled as you invited Leon to the space next to you on the couch. You didn’t have to tell him twice, he immediately jumped to the spot landing half on you in an over-enthusiastic way, he pushed one hand on your thigh encouraging you to continue petting him, which you gladly did.
“I was sooo lonely, I missed you so much, it’s so boring without you! I’m so so happy you’re back!” Leon rapidly bladdered making you chuckle a bit, he was always so energetic which could be tiring but you didn’t mind right now, it was actually kind of nice to have someone who was always excited to see you. 
Minutes passed, and he was still pressed against you talking your ear off with things he had thought of today, your petting eventually slowed into soft strokes, Leon’s tail slowed down as he ran out of things to say a big content smile on his face his ears were back eyes closed almost purring into your touch. So relaxed. 
It was all your normal routine until you spotted something particular, your underwear, in Leon’s crate. Your brows furrowed looking back to the innocent puppy next to you. After a bit of thinking and mostly contemplating what to do about it you got up from the soft cushions. Leon perked up confused at the loss of touch. He saw you walk over to his crate crouching down to examine your piece of clothing like it was a crime scene. 
“Leon? What’s this?” you asked looking over your shoulders to meet his worried eyes. He knew that look, and immediately he was stressed, Oh no did he do something bad? He really didn’t want to be a bad boy! What did he do?!
Leon tilted his head in shame not wanting to respond. Not knowing what to say, scared he would make it worse.
“Come over here,” you ordered, your voice rather sweet than commanding, hoping to not worsen Leon’s nervousness any further He hopped off the couch and did a small walk of shame to the crate, tail tucked between his legs, next to where you were crouched he sat down, trying to prove that he was still a good boy. 
“Well?” you started to get impatient. The scared dog avoided your eyes, going back to the now wet underwear. “I-… I just missed your scent…” Leon pleaded, looking up to you trying to win you over with his sad puppy eyes. You narrowed your eyes thinking of a way to teach your pup that this wasn’t okay, but you just couldn’t find it in you to punish him, until he spoke up again. 
“I just- it tasted so…good” Leon explained further as if it would help him, it didn’t, in fact, it did the opposite.
The gears inside of your head finally spun. Your scent, he wanted all your attention, the way he pawed at you all the time, this wasn’t a pet owner situation, he was attracted to you. 
You gulped deeply staring into Leon’s eyes, nothing but innocence and worry, the poor thing probably didn’t even know what he was feeling. Your lips pressed together into a thin line, you needed to stop this before it got out of hand even when you felt bad doing it. 
You picked your undies up, moving to stand up. Leon stayed down his eyes following your every move. “Leon,” you started putting away your feelings, you needed to set boundaries, you needed to be responsible here. “You can’t pick up my clothes, those are mine, not yours.” He looked down at his hands, anxiety spreading over his face, but you weren’t done yet he needed to learn there were consequences to his actions.
“I also do not want you to go into my room or the bathroom while I’m not home.” He absently nodded seeming like he was at the brink of tears for being called out alone. “Now I know you hate this, but you need to learn that there’s consequences to your actions.” His head shot up, panic in his eyes as you strictly pierced his eyes with yours. “no-no-please,-I’ll be good-I’ll never do it again-please,” he tried but you didn’t budge you stood your ground while pointing at his cage, Leon already knew what was coming to a terrified look on his face -god he is so dramatic- as you pointed to his crate. 
“No-no-no!”He franticly shook his head. “please, I don’t wanna go!” He pawed at your ankles pleading. You stood your ground. “Leon,” you warned, he knew he was only making it worse by begging but he really, really didn’t want to go on the crate. “Please-I’m sorry- I’m really-sorry- please!” He looked at you from where he was sitting his bottom lip trembling as he felt his eyes start to water.
“I’m not going in! I can’t- you can’t make me!” He raised his voice, which made you glare down at him. Immediately his ears went down as he felt himself cripple under your glare. 
“Bad. Boy. Go in your cage.” Tears started to fall you felt guilty for hurting your precious pup, especially about making him cry, but you didn’t let it show, you stayed cold and emotionless. He let out a small whimper as he obliged, unable to deny your order, he looked back almost betrayed, like he hadn’t had this coming. 
“It’s just for the night,” you said as you closed the bench trapping Leon in the iron bars, a soft mat, and a blanket on the ground (because you are not a monster) his fingers clamped around the bars. You left, you had eaten out, so you didn’t have any more business in the living room. You made your way back to your bedroom, throwing the clothes Leon had spread across the bathroom back into the hamper, throwing away your underwear later. 
So there he was, he had been so excited to be around you all day, and he actually could do that right now, be curled up against you snuggling but no, instead he was trapped in this cage, this prison the restraint that kept him from going to you. He sighed feeling betrayed in some way. He didn’t understand what he had done wrong, of course, he knew that picking your clothes was wrong, but getting punished for it, that’s a bit too much.
You never punished Leon ever, so this was really strange. Leon was confused but mostly felt bad, so very bad for making you disappointed in him. He curled up on the crate hugging the blanket in sorrow pretending that it was you as the last lights went out. 
-
The morning came agonizingly slow for Leon, the lack of sleep making him hump up as you entered the room, he sat up tail already swooshing side to side regardless of his exhaustion. You walked in your pajamas to his bench Leon’s fingers grasping the metal begging for his release. 
You kneeled down to his level, right in front of him. “Are you going to be a good boy?” you asked tilting your head in a questioning way, he nodded as fast as possible. “Talk,” you demanded. “Yes, yes I’ll be good,” he begged, half shaking the bars, you complied unlocking his “prison”. 
He almost jumped onto you making you sit back down on the ground. “I’m so sorry- it will never happen again, I promise, I promise,” he repeated over and over again as he tried to get you to hug him, you let out a breath chuckle and complied, “It’s okay sweetheart.” You pet his head to which he smiled even more leaning in your touch as he always did. 
And there it was again, that funny feeling in his stomach. At first, he thought it was just hunger, but the more you pet him the more he wanted to stay closer to you, press against you. The arousal pooling in his stomach stayed even when you pulled away, even when you fed him, even when you went out for a walk, and even when you left for work again. 
Leon was left alone with that unfamiliar feeling in his stomach leaving him to do the figuring out, Leon lay on his signature place on the couch. You had bought him a book for him to read. A simple book, just to help Leon fit in with the human side of him, also forcing him to walk upright on his feet when in public, he found it hard and tiring but he wasn’t about to disappoint you, not after he already did. 
So maybe that was why he was picking up the book, and starting to try and read it. It was easy enough. As time passed the feeling in his stomach tightened, like his organs were tormenting him. It wasn’t necessarily unpleasant, more like a neediness for something, only he didn’t know what. 
It came to the point where he couldn’t focus on the words anymore, his problem shadowed all his thoughts and made sure it was impossible for the poor pup to think straight. The only thing he noticed was that his pants felt small, smaller than usual, even when he had gotten used to them by now, they suddenly felt too small.
Leon frowned putting the book down to finally try and do something about his problem, he looked down to check if he could see anything from the outside. His face lit up as if he had just opened the previously used oven, and slapped the heat in his face, down his body making his skin tingle.
His hands followed the skin of his stomach expecting to find some kind of bruise or lump, but nothing only hot skin. His hand found its way to his pants to see if he could feel anything there. He let out an embarrassingly loud whine as he felt the bulge tenting his pants. His eyes dared to look down, only gasping at the sight, his hands weren’t betraying him, there really was a huge bulge. 
Contemplating what to do he experimentally cupped it with his hand through his pants, a whine even louder ran over his tongue, so hard that he swore he could hear it echoing through the walls.
But it felt good, it felt sensitive, but in a good way, in a very very good way, he has to feel it again. He slightly squeezed the bulge making his stomach turn in a way that felt so satisfying he couldn’t help but double over. 
Leon could feel his body trembling not used to these sensations at all, but he couldn’t stop, he started to create a small friction for himself, trying to satisfy this overwhelming need he suddenly felt. 
His hips involuntarily jerked up in his hand making his crotch throb as a whine left his mouth, his eyes closing in concentration trying to find whatever he needed, but it was hard to think, he felt so powerless, so desperate for something, but what was that something? 
Leon’s hand slightly sped up making him pant. His whole body felt on fire, so hot, he felt the need to take his suffocating clothes off but was too overwhelmed to do so. 
He kept going his legs trembling hands shaking sweat making everything stick together, but it still wasn’t enough, Leon didn’t understand, he never felt this, and frankly, he didn’t understand one bit of it. 
Eventually, his member felt like it was going numb. Leon desperately kept going even when it was starting to hurt, but to no avail, it just wasn’t enough. His hand stopped and so did the friction, his thoughts coming back to him together with a worried feeling, what even was that? What happened? He was left feeling guilty somehow like he did something shameful even when it felt so good. Was it bad? Was Leon doing something bad? 
He started to feel stressed, it feels bad now… and he really didn’t want to disobey you again especially when he was already put in the crate yesterday. Just then the lock turned, Leon’s ears perked up he hadn’t even smelled you, his arousal taking up all the scent in the room. 
Leon quickly jumped off the couch tail turning into a blur by how hard it was wagging. He was more excited than ever to see you. He whined a bit as he struggled to walk over to the door, the now painful bulge rubbing against his pants, he needed to get them off but that was not the priority right now. The priority was you.
You opened your front door, Leon’s face immediately greeting you, you always loved to come home to him, and his sweet smile, it grew only brighter as he saw you. (2 meninges 😧😏) 
“Hi! how’s your day?” Leon immediately spoke as you walked in hanging your coat up and sighing not noticing Leon’s state.
“It was fine” you shrugged putting away your shoes and patting Leon’s head. “How about you, have you been a good boy?” You said grinning as Leon grew red. “Mhm, I’ve been good all day,” Leon answered only it was a lie, a lie because he wasn’t a good boy. He did something new and it felt bad so so bad and he was scared to tell you. What if you’ll put him in his cage again? He’d rather lie than be imprisoned again. 
You walked over to the kitchen picking out food from the cabinets. “Yeah? What you do all day pup?” Leon followed you into the kitchen looking at the ingredients you put on the marble countertop. 
Leon thought his tail still rapidly swinging behind him. “I read like you told me to.” Leon smiled sheepishly at you ignoring the pain he was feeling downstairs. He could ignore it, he would ignore it for you. 
But eventually, you break, eventually, you burst, as any normal person does. A pup can’t hold something that big from you, and hide his pain…
His breaking point came at midnight. 
He was happily cuddled by you, he adored being small spoon. Until he woke up, drenched in sweat, panting, every piece of skin sticking to something. Leon groaned the world coming to him as he awoke his eyes and mouth dry. Waves of pain hit him from his crotch through his legs, a small whine escaped as he looked down, it was still the same, it was a wonder you hadn’t noticed yet. 
Leon’s whole body was in a state of fight or flight his senses heightened. He couldn’t take this anymore. He whined again as he stood up, legs trembling under his weight as he made it to the bathroom. He felt like throwing up. He struggled to grab a hold of the sink hoping for some stability but the cold on his sweaty hand only made him hiss. 
He was hot and cold at the same time, was it some kind of fiver? No this was different much different. Another wave of heat surged through Leon’s body his face red his lungs having trouble keeping up with his heavy breathing. He couldn’t look at himself in the mirror, his eyes caught glimpses down his body but none registered. With whines still leaving him he clawed at his clothes trying to wiggle his way out of them. The pants dropped to the tiles and so did his shirt everything was off but still he was as hot as one can be.
It was all too much and what was worse was that he didn’t even know what was going on. At this point Leon didn’t care if he got sent to his cage he just wanted the pain to stop nothing else mattered. 
He shook as he stumbled back into the bedroom. “Leon?” You asked just woken up as well, squinting your eyes to make out your pup’s features. His breath and his whimpers together with Leon not responding got you worried. “Leon, are you okay?”
“Please,” he whined collapsing next to you on the bed. “Please what? What’s going on?” Your voice continued to grow more and more worried. You turned and switched the light on, and there he was in full light his chest heaving up and down sweat dripping down his face, his ears flat on his head. His eyes closed tight his eyebrow furrowing into a painful look. 
With one glance down everything became clear. “Oh, baby,” you muttered softly. He was going in heat. “What’s wrong with me?” Leon choked out. “Nothing sweetheart, nothing at all,” you reassured brushing strands of hair that stuck to his face away. 
“I’m going to help you okay?” Leon nodded frantically in response tears brimming his eyes as tears slowly fell down his face, landing on the pillow, your sweet pup, he must be in so much pain for so long, poor thing was suffering in silence all this time and you hardly noticed. 
He was squirming waiting for you to do something, to do anything, anything to make the pounding in his head go away. His consciousness almost faded when you scratched behind his ears making his tail wag despite the pain he was in. It thumps against the white covers beneath him with it forming a small smile on your face.
“You’ll be fine sweetheart, I’ll take care of you,” you cooed softly multitasking as you moved your hand down his sticky body going gently over all his shapes and moles, going over the small trail of hair leading to the source of his problem. His hips jerked up a few times as you did. 
His cute little cock stood high and proud, pearly beads leaping down his length it was a beautiful sight. Under normal circumstances, you would’ve admired your pet for hours like this but this was a case with urgency and there was no time to spare.
Leon’s eyes shot open when you wrapped your hand around his base, a hand flying up to your shirt to take a handful of the soft fabric. “Wh-what?” He looked up at you with big eyes then back to the scene, blinking. Before he could do or say anything else you stroked up and down again. Leon quickly deflated, eyes rolling back as his head fell back into the pillow. Whines and whimpers fell from his mouth as you continued.
You started off slow so he could catch up with you twisting your wrists a few times and pulling utteral moans of pleasure from him. His plump lips kept parted eyes half-lidded going down and up with the movement of your hand and then to your own eyes. He strictly held on to your shirt as if his life depended on it his grip only growing stronger with every stroke of your hand. 
“Hmm-s’good-please-nhgh,” incoherent mumbles escaped his lips it was adorable. His pitch went up only higher and higher to a point that you almost couldn’t recognize the vulnerable voice of your pup. 
You sped up, his hips struggling to keep up with your pace, his eyelids scrunched together, you grabbed the hand holding your shirt and wrapped it in yours intertwining your hands while the other was cramping on Leon’s puppy dick. His tail was rapidly moving the sheets his ears perked up straight into the air. 
“Ah-wait-!” You didn’t react or wait instead you did the opposite only going faster. Leon let out a gut-wrenching moan his voice cracking into a whimper multiple times as he came white sputtered all over his stomach, continuing to drip down the white sheets as more continued to flow and coat your hand with sticky white ropes.
You slowly stopped, leaving his cock flat, Leon hesitantly opened one eye before the other a sit he was scared but he only saw your sweet smile. Before he could open his other eye you had your clean hand which was previously holding his, in Leon’s hair. “Good job Leon” you comfort his ears immediately twitching as you did. 
A cheeky smile was returned his cute bright eyes staring at you with excitement. “I did good?” He sat up slightly, the bed dipping in weight as he did. “Yeah, you did amazing sweetheart.” You cupped his cheek he sighed and closed his eyes, his body turning soft in your touch. 
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i spend so much energy trying to make/find fun creative things to add to my scripts and i’m not gonna gatekeep, so here’s some of the funniest/weirdest/lowkey best things i’ve added to any of my scripts (that I haven’t talked much about before):
-I can always find things I need.
-Santa is real
-People just??? trust me??? I could genuinely tell someone that world war two was between the australians and canadians and they’d just be like yeah that checks out
-I don’t have allergies bc i hate sneezing
-Every pair of shoes I own are comfy as hell
-My hair can’t get knotted/tangled
-no periods because f that for real
-I always win/I’m naturally good at card and board games.
-Babies/Animals like me and will stop crying/whining/etc. when i’m around.
-cigarettes taste good and aren’t bad for you. i wanna be lana del rey coded so bad i guess
-i will literally never be in a situation where i have to kill someone. (useful for more dangerous drs!!!)
-random beef with the funniest character imaginable. hp dr? me and susan bones are arch enemies. fame dr? me and pete davidson indirect tweet each other all the time complaining. avengers dr? me and the ancient one are fist fighting in the mirror dimension idc
-indestructible things. i am clumsy and stupid i need this in every dr.
-pages don’t rip out of notebooks on accident (this has been the bane of my existence since 9 years old)
-I always have a hair tie when i need one. because you think you won’t need one, and then the second you don’t have it, you need it.
-people don’t smell. lifesaver.
-*random character* knows i shifted but can’t do a goddamn thing about it/doesn’t care and just goes with it. my favorite examples are Shane Dawson (fame dr) and Professor Trelawny (HP dr)
-i can’t get hurt in stupid ways (stubbing toe, tripping, etc.)
-if someone tries to shoot me the gun will literally fly out of their hand lmao (again, useful for dangerous drs)
-i know everyone’s phone passwords
-infinite toilet paper (for dystopia/woods/etc. drs, but could just be useful every day tbh.)
-i’ve always got some kind of out of pocket one liner for when the situation is too awkward
-tattoos don’t hurt (i am a pussy)
-adding random side characters/completely new mfers to my scripts because if i’m constantly around these fine ass bitches i know everything about i might actually have a heart attack
-when someone’s mean to me they get some form of karma in the next 24 hours directly related to how mean they were. call me stupid? enjoy tripping up the stairs. push me over? i hope you enjoy biting into a sandwich only to find the bread is moldy.
there’s probably more but this is just a short list of the first ones i could think of
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skinnyducky · 1 year
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in her defense // v.h.
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a/n not gonna lie.. this was supposed to come out a LONG time ago. however, the og idea i had in mind just didn’t fit my writing style so i scrapped it and rewrote the entire thing. so, here’s what i came up with. hope you enjoy :)
p.s. i missed y’all soooo much !
vinnie hacker x fem!reader
Word Count: 1.3k, edited
WARNING: language, bladder mentions, and m*x. that is all. 
---------
Surprisingly, dinner with Vinnie’s friends wasn’t as awkward as she thought it would be. This was her first time meeting them, and honestly, she was a bit nervous in the beginning. It’s not like she didn’t have a reason to be, though. Sure, it wasn’t like she was meeting his family, but still, these were friends. These were the people he spent the majority of his day with—besides her. Their approval meant everything to her because if they didn’t like her, that could definitely put a damper on her and Vinnie’s relationship, and she definitely didn’t want that.
The group had arrived at the fancy restaurant around nine. It was nearing eleven. They spent almost an hour and a half just chatting amongst themselves and sharing embarrassing stories they all had about Vinnie. It wasn’t until midway through Jack’s story of Vinnie almost electrocuting himself that Y/n felt the need to use the bathroom. She crossed her legs, fighting against her bladder in hopes that she wouldn’t miss this story. But her bladder was putting up a good fight, one that she was on the brink of losing.
She flew up from her seat and turned to Vinnie. "I’ll be back. Gonna go use the restroom."
Vinnie nodded in response, sending a smile her way. "Alright, babe. Take your time."
After pecking the boy’s cheek, Y/n sprinted to the restroom. Upon reaching the ladies’ room, she flew inside and stumbled into the nearest stall. "Oh, that’s nice." She smiled, relieving herself of the pressure on her bladder. Once she was done, she wandered out of the stall and towards the sink. As she began washing her hands, she took the time to check herself over, ensuring that she didn’t look like a complete mess. While she was doing so, she noticed something strange.. something that looked like it didn’t belong in the women’s restroom. Shutting off the sink, Y/n slowly turned around, hoping to herself that what she saw was just in her imagination. Unfortunately, it wasn’t.
There, clinging to the wall, just a few feet away, was a row of perfectly polished urinals.
"No way." she gulped.
There was surely a reasonable explanation for this, right? There had to be a reason for urinals being in the women’s restroom. After trying to come up with every possible explanation, Y/n concluded that she was in fact in the men’s restroom. It’s not like she strolled in here on purpose; she really had to pee and didn’t think to look at the signs on the door.
"I gotta get out of here." She started sprinting towards the door, ready to make her escape. But before she could even lay a finger on that door handle, she heard the sound of laughter coming near. But this wasn’t just any laughter; no, this was.. male laughter.
"Shit." She slapped her lavender-scented hand over her mouth and ran into a stall before she could get caught. Locking the door behind her, she climbed onto the toilet and crouched down so no one would see her head poking out.
The guys entered the bathroom, and based on what Y/n was hearing, there were only two of them. However, that wasn’t the only thing that she heard. There was something familiar about those voices. It only took a second for Y/n to recognize those voices as belonging to Vinnie and his good ol' pal, M*x.
"Jack's such a dick," Vinnie chuckled, his stream trailing behind his voice. "Thank god he didn’t say any of that in front of Y/n. She’d probably leave me in a heartbeat if she heard all of that."
M*x joined in on the laughter. "Can’t argue with that, man. Can’t argue with that."
It was silent between the two as they tinkled. The second they finished, however, M*x cleared his throat. "Uh, can I ask you a question?"
After flushing the urinals, both boys walked over to the sinks. "For sure. What’s up?" Vinnie asked.
"Are you positive she’s the one?"
The question made both Y/n and Vinnie confused. Based on how things were going at dinner, Y/n was confident she made a good impression on all of Vinnie's friends. Although, come to think of it, M*x was a bit standoffish. Maybe she didn’t leave as good a mark as she thought she did.
"Uhm, yeah. I’m pretty positive." Vinnie chuckled. "Why? Is something wrong?"
"I just.. I just don’t think she’s the one for you, dude."
"And why is that?" All traces of amusement had left Vinnie’s tone. Now, all that was there was curiosity, and a hint of anger.
M*x swallowed the lump in his throat before saying the unthinkable. "Not gonna lie, bro, I think she’s a hoe."
Y/n felt her nails dig into her skin as she fought back the urge to fly out of that stall and give that dickhead a piece of her mind. Who the hell does he think he is? He’s barely said two words to her, and already he’s come to that conclusion. What a douche!
Vinnie scoffed, clearly offended by M*x’s accusation. "What the hell, dude? Why would you think my girlfriend’s a hoe?"
"I mean, she was practically flirting with every guy at the table. You saw the way she got all handsy with Jett. Don’t act like you didn’t."
Now, Y/n was a believer in many things. She believed in ghosts, aliens, and mermaids, but not this—and she hoped Vinnie didn't, either. How could M*x mistake her being nice for flirting? And what the hell did he mean by her getting "handsy" with Jett? She was picking a piece of lint off his sweater. "Hmph, talk about jumping to conclusions," she thought.
"You know what, M*x, you’re an idiot." Vinnie stated.
This time around, M*x got offended. "Vinnie, how am I an idiot for telling you the truth? I’m just telling you what I’m observing, and from what I’m observing, your girlfriend is playing you."
"And that’s just it," said Vinnie. "This is what you’re observing, not anyone else."
"Bro, I’m your friend. Shouldn’t that count for something?"
"It would if you had solid proof, but you don't, so no, it doesn’t count for shit."
"Why are you acting like this man?"
"You just called my girlfriend a hoe and then accused her of flirting with you guys with no evidence whatsoever." Vinnie snarled. "How would you feel if I accused your girlfriend of flirting with us without any proof?"
Max was quiet.
"Right, you wouldn’t like it. So, if you've got some sort of issue with her, just say that. Otherwise, keep her name out your mouth. We good?"
"Yeah, sure. We’re good."
With that, the two boys exit the bathroom, the stench of tension following closely behind. Leaving the stall, Y/n couldn’t fight the smile that broke out on her face. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't concerned about Vinnie believing what M*x said. In situations like these, boys tend to believe their friends, and considering the fact that she and Vinnie hadn’t been together for that long, she really didn’t know if he’d see through the bullshit. Thankfully, he did, and Y/n couldn’t have been happier.
Escaping the horror that was the men’s restroom, Y/n practically skipped back to the table. Just before she sat down, she planted a kiss on Vinnie’s forehead.
He giggled, blushing like a schoolboy. "What was that for?"
"Just a thank you."
With furrowed brows, he asked, "For what?"
"For being the best boyfriend ever," Y/n replied. "Also, you’re gonna have to tell me what Jack said and why in the hell it would make me want to leave you."
"Yeah, for sure." Vinnie laughed. As he was about to stuff his face with a spoonful of mashed potatoes, he paused. "Wait, what?"
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