#i'm sick of crying over everything and nothing at the same time

[maxtermind]

baby, would i still be your lover?

★ : summary :: when he accidentally insults you during an argument ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: angst ★ : word count :: 2.9k ★ : a/n :: as much as i love making the crack texts, i'm just an angst addict 😔

Max Verstappen

Everyone, people who weren’t even in Max’s close proximity, knew that he was impulsive and a little reckless. With you, on the contrary, Max was usually a think first, act later kind of a lover. That wasn’t to say that when arguments happened, they were a pretty sight to look at.

It was a single thing that you said which suddenly turned into a huge blown out argument, leaving your head throbbing as Max continued to vent his frustrations about unrelated issues.

"You're so hot-headed, you can't even have a normal conversation without blowing up."

"Attacking me now, are you?" Max retorted, his tone defensive.

He was quick to bite back and the ball in your throat made it scratch-y to talk. You were sure that your eyes were welling up with tears but he was too far away to see it.

"I'm just stating the truth.” You started after taking a shuddering breath. “Every time we talk, it turns into a fight because you can't control your temper."

"Well, maybe if you didn't push all my buttons, we wouldn't be here."

He was talking in the same decibel at least and for a second you had hope that everything would be better. Then his words registered and the hope vanished as well.

"I'm not the one who flies off the handle at the slightest provocation!"

You had to stop and take another breath, otherwise, you were going to start crying and this conversation was inevitably going to get left in between because Max wasn’t an asshole who was okay with his girlfriend crying just because he was angry.

"You know what? I'm sick of your constant criticism."

"And I'm sick of walking on eggshells around you!"

He took a moment to say the next thing. The silence indicating that he was thinking it over first. Max's next words hung in the air, heavy with implication.

"Fine, maybe we should just call it quits then."

The suggestion hit you like a punch to the gut. Was this really that easy for him? He just ripped your heart out and splashed it on the ground. Your chest hurt so much and he was just sitting there? Was he not at all affected by the way you looked close to crying now?

"Fine. Enjoy being single and available," you retorted, your voice trembling with suppressed emotion.

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes looking over at you, indicating how he didn’t really think that you guys were breaking up. Though in your head, this was the last time you were ever going to look into his eyes again.

"You're too sensitive, always getting upset over nothing."

You were already on the edge, not having even processed that you guys almost- probably did break up over you trying to talk something out with him.

“Us breaking up is nothing to you?”

The weight of his words crashed over you, the tears finally spilling down your cheeks. Max's expression softened, regret flashing in his eyes, but it was too late. The damage had been done, and the fragile bond between you felt irreparably shattered.

Lewis Hamilton

How can one tell if they really are in a good relationship? Is it the security and sense of peace? Is it the frequent love confessions? Honestly, the explanation might differ person to person but one thing you always believed that made a relationship was being level headed even during arguments when emotions were running high

Needless to say, you were very glad you found solace in Lewis. A person who was prone to recognizing the impact of his words. Arguments between you two were rare, and when they did occur, Lewis prioritized finding solutions rather than escalating the conflict. His ability to remain level-headed during disagreements was a cornerstone of your relationship.

Everyone has those days though, when acting out of character seems more suitable than the usual. Moments when emotions override reason.

You were more worked up than usual. Your insides were burning with this desire to get answers because your boyfriend wasn’t there with you on the day you needed him the most.

You drove back home from your conference, dismayed despite it being a very successful session, given that your proposal got accepted as soon as you were done. You just wished your chocolate eyed man was sitting in the crowd looking at you with his signature proud smile.

After a shower, you sat on your couch to watch some show and just move on from the bittersweet day. It was an hour later, when your boyfriend showed up with a bouquet in his hand. Lewis walked over to you and leaned down to kiss your head.

“Congratulations, love," he greeted, oblivious to the storm brewing within you. “Saw it on the news, sorry I couldn’t join you. Got caught up with work.”

Usually, you would have avoided the argument till you felt like you could understand his side too. That was one of the things that helped you guys the most. You both waited to discuss stuff till you knew you were calm and ready to get what the other was saying.

“Aren’t you too busy with work lately?”

He gave a humorous huff in return, not catching on.

“You know how it is once the season starts.”

“You literally got home last night and you had to go in again early in the morning?”

“Missed me?”

He had a playful grin on his face and it killed you to spoil the good mood.

"Of course, after all you're more committed to your cars than you are to me."

The words left your mouth and you were too far gone to be caring about it at this point. Lewis has been such a passionate lover so this sudden shift was hurting you.

“What was that?” he responded, his tone sharp with surprise.

However, you were done and already up to call in early but his words stopped you on our track.

“Wow. You're so insecure, it's exhausting trying to boost your ego all the time."

Tears immediately welled up in your eyes but you didn’t turn around and with a deflated sigh, walked into your bedroom before locking the door while Lewis stood frozen in his place, not believing his own words.

It was like he was in a stance and all he could do was listen to you cry through the closed door on a day when you guys were supposed to be celebrating each other’s wins.

Carlos Sainz

Carlos was the perfect man. His mature yet easy going demeanor was exactly what you needed in a partner. You hadn't been together for that long to be at the altar but just enough to know that you were going to last.

You understood the demands on Carlos's time, with his career in the spotlight of the racing world when you decided to say yes to a date with him. Carlos was left with very less time away from all the glam, media and the track. Making it precious because of how rare it was.

You mostly accompanied him and let him drag you around to wherever he wanted once he had the break. So imagine your surprise when the only time you made some pretty important plans and he refused to tag alone.

"I can’t believe you’re saying no to this," you protested, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

“I’m not saying no to anything, Carina.” He kissed your knuckles to un-knot the strong fist you’ve made of them. “I’m just suggesting we do it some other time.”

"But this is the third time, Carlos!" You stood up, unable to contain your hurt and disappointment. “Sorry if meeting my parents is such a chore for you.”

“You’re putting words in my mouth now.” Carlos responded with a sigh, attempting to pull you into a hug, which you reluctantly accepted. “It's not about it being a chore. You know I'd do anything for you, Y/N."

"I do know that, but actions speak louder than words, Carlos. My family is important to me."

“I promise that I want to meet them. I do. It's just… the timing."

"I don't want promises, Carlos. I want actions. If you can't even make it to meet my parents, what does that say about our future?" You insisted with a heavy heart, putting distance between you two.

"You're blowing this out of proportion, Y/N." Carlos countered, frustration evident in his voice.

"Out of proportion? I just wanted you to meet my family, and you can't even do that!"

“Well, I don’t have time to waste on this! If you want to go, just go alone!” His words hung in the air, a sharp pang of hurt piercing through you.

You immediately took a step back and saw him do the same. Both of you standing there as the silence stretched, contemplating in silence what exactly the next course of action was going to be.

“Y/N, I…” He trailed off as you glared at your foot, trying to hold the tears in before one eventually slipped and fell down your cheek.

“Baby, no! Don’t cry!” He panicked about extending his hand, about to touch you but you flinched away and shook your head.

“Carlos, if you think I’ll just ignore what you said ten seconds ago then you’re very wrong.” You whispered, your voice thick and husky.

Guess you were the only one from you both expecting this relationship to last. A second later, you were clutching your bag in your hand and walking towards the exit, speaking up before Carlos could beg you once again to ‘sit and talk it out.’

“Don’t,” you interrupted, your voice barely a whisper. “Thanks for letting me know that our time together was time wasted for you.”

You walked out with his heart in your pocket, your own splashed on the floor of your apartment.

Charles Leclerc

Charles was the love of your life, the very time you saw him smile at you from across the room igniting a spark in you that shaped your future together.

He walked over to you with a pretty girl hanging onto his arm, leaving the impression that they were more than friends. Everyone around you was also convinced at the time that they were dating but Charles bluntly flirting with proved just how different the real life scenario was.

Pippa was just his ‘best friend,’ someone who throws side eyes at you every time you and your boyfriend are in close proximity to her. Despite nearly a year together, her hostility persisted, the woman was a different kind of vicious. Hell bent on draining your energy.

It was physically exhausting being around her with her catty sarcastic tone that Charles always failed to notice. It was just another one of those days and Charles dismissed your concerns as usual, leaving you frustrated.

This time it was pissing you off greatly.

"Doesn't she realize we're together?" You rolled your eyes.

Charles remained silent and that drew your brows together.

“Charles, does she not think we’re serious?”

“I don't think so. She's always been oblivious to these things.”

And honestly? That fucking hurt. It hurt to know that Charles noticed this but was still rather quick to defend her every time.

"But we've been together almost a year?”

"Baby, she just never pays attention.” His arm pulled you closer to his chest. “Or maybe she doesn't want to see it."

"Do you think she has feelings for you?”

There it was, the truth out in the open. As much as it made you want to die to say it out loud and acknowledge it, your body felt lighter while the comforting arm around your waist began to feel heavier.

"I don't know. Maybe?” Charles’ chest heaved with a deep sigh, "It's complicated?"

The heart beating in your chest stopped for a long second because of how unconcerned your boyfriend seemed right now. Was he seriously just going to accept that a person he has shared so much history with wants to steal him from you?

“It’s not that simple, darling. she's been a friend for years.”

“Yeah, well, friends don't act like that. She’s just what? Waiting for the right moment to swoop in and steal you away from me?”

Charles did not like it because the arm was moved away from you in a second and he was sitting a bit straighter now. He looked furious and ready to defend his best friend and all that was running through your head was how he would probably not do the same for you in front of her.

"That's enough, Y/N. You're being paranoid."

"Paranoid? Or realistic? Face it, Charles, you're so blind when it comes to her. It makes me feel so small compared to her!"

Charles, frustrated and defensive, ran a hand through his hair and shot back,"Don't flatter yourself thinking Pippa gives a damn about you or me."

Lando Norris

No one could deny the magnetic pull Lando had on everyone around him. It was, after all, what drew you to him in the first place. You had your biases but he broke through them all with his shameless at worst and awkward at best flirting.

However, as you stood in a quiet corner to hide from the crowd, you couldn’t find it in yourself to sympathize with Lando. He had brought you to this glamorous social event, flashes of camera and expensive drinks overflowing all around you.

You were extremely excited to accompany your boyfriend especially since he had such an amazing season but throughout the evening, Lando was constantly pulled away by enthusiastic fans and demanding media, leaving you aside feeling like an accessory rather than his partner.

Standing in a quiet corner, you couldn't help but feel a pang of envy as you watched other couples bask in each other's company. You didn’t even know where Lando was at this very second.

Then, suddenly, his arms enveloped you from behind, his lips pressing gently against your head. "I'm sorry, babe. Everyone here just wants a piece of me," he murmured, attempting to console you.

You sighed and tried to calm yourself so you wouldn't explode in front of everyone, "I understand, but I miss spending time with you."

"I promise, I'll make it up to you tonight." Lando winked, keeping the conversation light.

That was all he said before someone from your left approached him again and your safety haven spot under the stairs was crowded with journalists a second later. You rolled your eyes before walking away, with half a mind to grab a cab and leave.

It was on your way back home when your patience finally ran its course as you listened to your boyfriend go on and on about how much of a success the event was.

“Why did you even take me with you?” You interrupted, your tone tinged with hurt and watched as the smile on his face got replaced with a frown.

“What?”

“I mean… you barely clicked two pictures with me and then left me to fetch for myself? You didn’t even come stand with me for more than a minute?”

"Babe, I'm sorry, but this is part of the job."

"I get it, but it doesn't make it easier.” You felt your own body shudder because of how overwhelmed you felt. “You were there talking to everyone but me!”

Lando opened his mouth to say something but you weren’t done yet.

“They were all strangers to me and you didn’t even acknowledge this! I was standing there alone the whole time, watching others and wondering why my boyfriend wasn’t there for me!”

The weight of your words hung heavily in the air, and for a moment, there was silence. You stopped to take a breath and not start crying. Then, Lando spoke, his words struck like a knife to the heart.

“This isn’t… This isn’t about you. Why are you always making it about you?”

Your body froze after that and your mind went blank. You didn’t care that the tears were running out of your eyes or that apologies were falling from his mouth. His own eyes were welling up because he knew.

He knew what he said was unacceptable.

You were so zoned out that as soon as the car stopped, you got out of the car. Thankful to catch the glimpse of yellow among the traffic before you hailed a taxi, the distance between you and Lando growing with each passing moment.

He attempted to hold your arm, his own tears falling down his face. You just wanted to put your point across but with his reaction, you were certain you guys were done for.

“I guess I expected a little too much from you, Lando.”

With a heavy heart, you walked away, knowing that sometimes love wasn't enough to mend the fractures in a relationship.

©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

#★ : my work ! #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 #f1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #f1 angst #f1 fluff #hurt/comfort

[luveline]

hi honey!! i have a request of sad spencer comforted by bombshell reader. maybe hes the one on the brink of tears and really shes just there for him please

thanks for your request!!! fem, 1k

Spencer Reid can't stop frowning. 

“You know what I've been reading lately?” you ask him. 

“Cosmopolitan?” 

“That's just sexist.” 

Spencer points at the copy of Cosmopolitan hidden between papers and an open book where it lies on the desk in front of you, a smile interrupting his frown momentarily. “Sorry,” he says. 

“Oh, don't be sorry.” You squint at him ever so slightly as you cross one leg over the other and sink back into your borrowed seat. “That's on me. But, you know… this isn't my desk. That could be anybody's magazine.” 

He laughs politely and turns back to his work. 

“You don't wanna know what I'm actually reading?” you ask. 

He stares at his keyboard. “Mm.” 

He's not listening. That's alright. You don't really want to tell him about what you've been reading; it's just a book. 

You slide your chair closer to his and peek at the computer. He's on a page for American Airlines, flights to Las Vegas, but he hasn't clicked anything. Spencer grew up in Las Vegas, and his mom still lives there alone in a sanitorium for the mentally ill. She can get really sick at a moment's notice. You know he’s been thinking about that more lately. 

“Is everything okay, Spencer?” you ask quietly. 

You incline your head to his. He looks up, at first surprised by your attention, and then abashed. “Yeah.” 

“You don't seem yourself,” you say, putting your hand on his arm. You feel up to the crook of his elbow, waiting for him to shrug you off. He doesn't move. You stroke his skin with your thumb. “You can talk to me, you know? I hope you know that, anyways.” 

“Yeah, I know, it's…” His voice wobbles. You lean in closer. “It's nothing.” 

The first time you saw Spencer cry, he was in a hospital room being weaned off of a terrible thing, and it was sudden but expected all the same. He was suffering, recovering but in pain, and you would've cried if the roles were reversed. That was a long time ago. Seeing him upset doesn't get easier. 

“Spencer,” you murmur, “What's wrong? You look like you could burst into tears. Do you need me to get you a glass of water?” 

He shakes his head. You stay right there by his side waiting for the inevitable, the tears gathering in his eyes that he blinks away, and his painful swallowing. You have two hands —the one that isn't squeezing his arm jumps to his back to hold his stiff shoulder. 

“Do you want me to get Morgan?” you ask, unsure. 

It's a busy office, and you and Spencer sit on the outskirts closest to the offices upstairs and furthest from the hubbub. Nobody notices your closeness. You speak too quietly to be overheard. 

“Spencer,” you implore. 

He ducks his head, putting his hand to his brow. 

“I'm okay,” he says, his voice stronger now, “it's just my mom doesn't sound right in her letters lately, and I'm tired, and I wasn't expecting you to ask me.” 

“No?” you ask, giving his arm another tender rub. “Sorry if I'm upsetting you, Spencer. I was worried. You don't have to talk about it.” He winces. “But if you do want to, I'm right here.” 

He needs a hug, you decide (unsurely). You stand and he immediately lifts his head with worry in his eyes, but you're not going anywhere, the opposite. You cover up his head and shoulders as your chin rests gently atop his soft hair, a gravel to your tone as you say, “It's okay.” 

Spencer is silent. Slowly, tentatively, he wraps his arms around you in turn, and then he's squeezing you tight enough to feel it in your spine. 

“It's okay, Spencer. We can talk about it, huh? We can work something out. It wouldn't be terrible for you to take a vacation every once in a while, maybe that's what you need.”  

He breathes out against your sleeve. “Sorry,” he says. 

“It's okay.” You kiss his head. He likely doesn't feel it. “I promise, it's fine.” 

“I wasn’t expecting you to ask.” 

“I know, you said that already.” You don’t tell him with any malice, just reaffirmation. “But I’ll always ask. I care about you, I need you to be okay, Dr. Reid. You’re my pillar of strength.” He laughs with self-deprecation, but you mean it. “You are. You’re always there for me. You’re always looking after me.”

“Since when do you need looking after?” 

“That’s one of the best and worst things about you. You don’t realise what you are to people.” 

Spencer screws his hands into your blouse and grows still in your arms. You consider scolding him about wrinkles to lighten the mood, but he’ll take you too seriously, and stop hugging you, and that’s not what you want. You try to be subtle about the comfort you’re giving him as you wrap your arms behind his head to close him in, hiding him from any prying eyes, but the longer you stay holding him the more attention you recieve, until even your stoic unit chief can't pretend this is appropriate for the workplace. 

“L/N,” Hotch says in concern. “Reid. Is everything okay?” 

Spencer seizes up and tries to push you away.

You lift your chin above his head and give Hotch your stickiest smile, arms moving to a more amicable position behind his shoulders. “No, everything is not okay, Hotch. You realise I only joined the unit to be with Spencer, right? And you punish me by sitting me halfway across the office!” 

Everyone watching either laughs or rolls their eyes, used to your dramatic favouritism. Even Hotch seems tired of it. 

“I’d be sorry if I thought that were true. Can you go back to suffocating Reid on your own time? We have some consults to look over.” 

You widen the gap between you and Spencer, allowing him the space to collect himself. “If you insist,” you say, grinning brightly. 

You stand in front of Spencer, heart aching as he sniffs quietly. He stands, and for a moment you think he won’t be alright after all, that your comfort was useless and he’ll need to excuse himself, but he draws a ghost of a line into your side with his knuckle and squares his expression. “Let’s get back to work,” he says to you with a small smile. You’ll talk more later. 

“Wanna hold hands?” you ask. 

“Maybe when everyone’s stopped looking at me?” he says under his breath, starting toward the steps to the conference room. 

“Wait, really?”

He hurries up the stairs. You follow.

#spencer and bombshell!reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

[gglitch1dd]

Just thinking about dilf Izuku sucking readers tits dry while she’s lactating or he helps her get rid of a clogged boob🥱

I like you, anon. I really like you.

Husband Midoriya Izuku x Wifey Reader

Warning: SMUT, parenthood, LACTATION kink, underlying breeding kink, squirting, Izuku being damn right shameless. HEAVY Praise and body worship, soft dom Izuku.

You let out a sigh as you finally undid your maternity bra. You rubbed your areola, letting out a hiss at the pain. Today seemed like an off day for you, where everything just felt wrong. Asahi had been crying all day and Toshinori was running a fever and both boys didn't want to eat anything.

This was one day you felt as though whatever could go wrong with your children was happening.

You walked out of the closet noticing your husband walk back into the bedroom. "I managed to put Asahi to bed. Seems like the poor guy had some gas he couldn't release." He explained to you, talking about your youngest out of your two boys.

You nodded with a relieved expression. "Thank you, Izu." You said softly as you moved to sit down on the bed with a frown on your face.

Izuku studied you for a moment. You were quite. He could tell that something was bothering you and after the day you both had, he couldn't blame you. He had to go for three hours to sign an important document this morning but when he came back, it's as if all hell broke loose.

"My love..." Izuku started as he walked over to where you were sitting. His eyebrows were furrowed as he watched you for another moment. He crouched down in front of you, taking your hands in his own. His big scarred hands ran over your knuckles. "Are you okay? Don't worry, Toshinori has already taken medicine and is dead asleep and I'm sure Asahi just had a bad day today. Bad days happen and it will be better tomorrow."

You let out a sigh, but nodded. "I know, honey. I know, but it was so tiresome." You let out as you leaned back closing your eyes. "You know how worried I get when Toshi gets sick. He's only three but he's so stubborn and he doesn't want to eat anything. Last time we had to take him into the emergency because he was dehydrated. And Asahi just won't drink."

Izuku raised an eyebrow at that, confused as to what you meant. "What do you mean?"

You opened your eyes as you looked at him. "I think I'm making too much milk. Toshinori always was hungry but Asahi won't even suckle for more than ten minutes at a time. It's like he gets fed up." You felt tears move to your eyes, your eyes burning as you looked down at your chest. "I feel so pent up. I can only pump so much but it hurts because it feels so heavy and there's so much I have left."

"Hey, hey, hey." Your husband let out softly as he moved to pull you into his arms as tears fell from your eyes. He moved to rub your back as he sat beside you. His large arms wrapped around you securely, putting a kiss to the top of your head. You buried your face in his chest, letting out a stuttered breath at the feeling of his warm embrace. "I'm right here, honey. I'm right here." He spoke so comfortingly that it almost made you want to cry harder. "Why didn't you tell me that you were struggling with feeding him?" He asked you softly.

You sniffed. "I didn't want to disappoint you. I handled Toshinori so well so I thought Asahi would be similar."

Izuku let out a light chuckle as he kissed the top of your head. "Remember that no child is the same, my love." He moved to look down at you, tilting your head up to look at him. He had a gentle smile on his freckled face, his green eyes were warm as he looked at you. "It isn't your fault, Y/N. You've been doing nothing wrong." He assured you.

You tried looking away from him, tears slipping down your face as you tried to control your emotions. However, his affirmation that you were doing alright and you weren't messing up made you only feel more emotional.

"Some kids just eat less than others. He's still a healthy little boy and he isn't sick or underweight. He's just not as hungry. Okay?"

"Okay."

He nodded his head, moving to kiss your lips gently. You let out a stuttered breath at the action but you nodded your head along with him. You were so glad that Izuku took all the time off that he did whenever you gave birth. You weren't sure how you would manage with a three year old and a newborn but you were so glad that he was right there alongside you.

Izuku peered down at you. "Does it hurt?" He asked. You looked up at him with a confused expression. He motioned to his pecs with a broad gesture making you giggle at his roundabout way of asking about the state of your breasts.

You nodded your head. "Yah, it does." You sniffed, nodding your head. "It's just full more than anything."

He nodded his head, understanding what you meant. He took a moment before speaking again. "Can I help?" He asked.

You felt heat go up your neck at the question. It wasn't the first time he had tasted your milk (nor would it be the last) but anytime that you or him asked never ceased to make you flustered. "Are you sure?"

He hummed with a nod of his head, a kind smile despite the lewd intentions he had. "I want to take care of you tonight." He expressed.

Without warning you, Izuku picked you up in his arms making you squeak. He chuckled before carefully moved to put his back against the headboard with you in his lap. You sat there perched on his lap as he carefully moved your shirt over your shoulders. You allowed him to, allowing him full access of your breasts.

Immediately at the sight of them, his eyes dropped away from your face. You couldn't help but chuckle at how for a few seconds, you were sure Izuku had no thoughts going on inside his head.

"Hm?" He asked, his eyes taking a second before they flicked up at you.

You shook your head. "You are such a man, Izuku."

He let out a scoff before a broad smile went to his face. "Honey, I think anyone who catches their eyes on a great set of knockers is going to stop and stare." He explained only making you giggle. "Besides, they look delicious."

"Izuku." You gave him a pointed look but you couldn't help the smile. "Don't get any bright ideas. Remember, this is only happening because of Asahi."

"And Asahi doesn't want it. Less for him, more for me."

"IZUKU!"

He chuckled as his large hands moved to gently grasp your breasts. Immediately you let out a whimper at the feelings of his grip on you. He noticed how sensitive you were, and noted that he should be careful. He gently moved to massage your breasts, gently kneading at them. You let out a breath as you tried your best not to pull back at the slight pain.

"You're right, you are quite full." He let out softly. The only reason Izuku would notice as much as he did, is because at anytime that he caught you breastfeeding he would always try to cope a feel (shameless man).

Carefully, his green emerald eyes flicked up to you. Without breaking eye contact, he leaned forward, lapping his tongue over your nipple. He was gentle as he carefully put your breast in his mouth making you clench on nothing at the intensity of his eyes.

He gently started to suck, making you hiss as you moved to grip onto his shoulders. He didn't relent, knowing that it was going to hurt before it got better. He was gentle, carefully massaging at your breast while sucking. It didn't take longer than a few seconds before the sweet drops of milk touched his tongue.

He hummed at the taste, sucking a bit harder knowing that now you were flowing. Your breaths were heavy as you sat on his lap, allowing him to drink from you. You couldn't deny that him helping you like this was damn arousing. Your husband had always put in the effort to help you as best as he could, and you were so grateful for him.

Then again, it was the least he could do for you being his wife and the mother to his children.

Izuku moved to massage your other breast, with his right hand while his left hand moved down your body. You couldn't even seem to care where his hands were going, you were just glad that the pressure you felt was finally being lifted and you felt so good at your husband's touch.

Then you jolted with a squeak and wide eyes. Izuku had what you could only identify as a smirk considering that his mouth was full. His hand had found its way down your cotton panties. His fingers moving to fiddle with your clit. Your eyebrows furrowed in faux concentration as you moved to hold onto his shoulders, trying to stabilise yourself.

It felt so good having his hands on you. His fingers always knew just how you liked to be played with and always knew just where to touch and when. The circles he rubbed into your cunt made you relax as you arched your back, pushing your chest further into his grasp.

Izuku gasped, leaving your left breast with a groan. "You taste so good, sweetheart. You have so much to give." He said noticing that the breast he had just left had just started dripping a bit. He noticed that tonight might just get messy.

He grinned at the thought.

He moved to your right breast, finally giving it the attention it was neglected of. You let out a loud moan as you threw your head back and started grinding down on his hand that cupped your cunt. "Yes... Yes, Izu. Just- just suck a bit harder. Just a tiny bi- FUCK~" You moaned as your eyes rolled back, grinding down on his calloused hand.

He chuckled. "You're so wet for me beautiful. You must be really enjoying yourself." He murmured against your breast. He let out a moan at the pleasurable taste, drinking as much milk as he could to put you at ease. You were absolutely dripping on his hand and your breasts were leaking milk past his mouth and on his chest.

Izuku knew that if he died right now, he would have no complaints.

He let go of your right breast with a pup, moving to massage it like he had been doing with your left one. "Come on baby, you're doing so good." He praised you, your small keens and moans filling the air as the only thing you could think of was coming. You were chasing that high, pushing yourself against his hand and basically bouncing on his lap in need. He kept the pace just like you liked it, being careful not to speed up or slow down. Kissed your sternum. "Come for me, my love. Come for me. You're so beautiful, mama. You deserve it. You're almost there."

You let out a whimper, your thighs shaking but not being quite there yet. You let out a frustrated cry as you flicked your teary eyes at him needly. "Help." You whispered.

He chuckled as he wrapped his arm around you, turning the both of you around so that you can lie on your back underneath him. He moved to fingers inside you, easily finding that spot that had you clamping down on his fingers hard. A deep groan left your lips as you arched up against him.

"There we go." He praised, moving his fingers fast and hard, making sure his thumb stimulated your clit. "There you go, such a good girl. You're my good girl. You can do it, my love. You can do it. You're almost there." You couldn't think, you could barely even breathe other than to moan and cry like a whore. You let out a broken sob at the pounding of his fingers in that area. He reached down to careful bite your nip between his teeth just gently and suddenly you saw white.

A broken moan left your mouth as you were in complete ecstasy.

At the amount of slick against his hand Izuku chuckled as he realised you were squirting. "There it is. Good girl. You're so perfect." He praised as his fingers didn't slow down. The dragged out your orgasm long and hard, letting slick gush over his hand and arm as he did so.

You gasped with a sigh fallling back into bed with a whimper, trying to closer your legs. Izuku took that as an indication to stop. Slowly slipping his hand out of your now drenched cotton underwear.

He sat up on his knees, looking at the beautiful masterpiece that was you sprawled out in front of him. You were heaving for air, tired and worn out but covered in slick between your thighs and milk on your chest. Your eyes closed as you floated on cloud nine for a moment.

Izuku looked down at his hand with a chuckle, sticking the two fingers that were inside you in his mouth with a hum. He licked them clean before leaning down to you. "Such a good girl." He praised as he kissed your forehead. You let out a soft whine, and instantly he moved to wrap his arms around you, picking you up in his arms. "My amazing wife. You're so spectacular. That was amazing sweetheart. Do you feel better?" He asked as he carried you to the bathroom.

You nodded your head tiredly in the crook of his neck.

He hummed. "I bet you do. You did so well for me. You did so well. I'm so proud of you." He praised as he walked into the bathroom, keeping the lights off as not to disturb the cloud you were floating on.

He carefully grabbed a cloth, putting it in warm water, all while holding you up with one hand. He knew you wouldn't want to let go of him so he worked around you. He walked back into the bedroom, the lights staying dim as he lay you back down on his side of the bed, wrapping you up in a different blanket. He carefully wiped you clean, praising you softly with whispers.

You weren't even sure what happened by the time your mind was half back. You were in new pyjamas with the bed sheets changed and feeling clean. Your husband had slid into bed with you, petting down your back with a soft hum out of his chest. You fell right to sleep, dead asleep.

Izuku knew that he probably didn't get all the milk out, but that would be dealt with later. As in, midnight.

-Glitch1d

[Izuku Midoriya Masterlist]

#izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #mha x y/n #izuku midoriya smut #izuku smut #kiribaku smut #bnha smut #izuku midoryia smut #midoriya smut #mha smut #izuku mydoria #izuku midoriya #izuku midoria x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya x y/n #izuku x reader smut #midoriya izuku x reader #dilf izuku midoriya #dilf izuku x reader #tw lactation

[peachesofteal]

18+ mdni / dark and twisty, whump

It’s snowing.

You don’t even have to move your head to see in order to know. There’s something about how it hangs in the air, how the world sounds and feels during a snowfall that blankets everything, houses, trees, mountains, your mind.

You love it. Always have. Even as a child, winter was your favorite. Winter brought you a sense of calm, of peace. It was what drove you to move out here in the first place. Chasing the snow. The feeling of a quiet forest, lying still beneath the soft spun expanse of white. The smell of the air the morning before a big snow, the eternal quiet that exists in the darkness when everything is dampened down by the weight of a million, billion unique, crystallized webs.

Except this snow feels different. It doesn't feel like a velvety white, soft dream world, but a nightmare... one filled with pain, anxiety. Why are you here? What's happened?

And why do you hurt so fucking bad?

"You're awake." A deep voice says from your side, and you flinch on instinct, immediately wishing you hadn't as lighting sharp pain shoots through your upper arm all the way to your neck, and you cry out. "Easy." It's the brown eyed man, the bigger one. He's sitting in a chair that cannot possibly be comfortable, watching you.

"Where... am I?" You manage to choke out through stiff lips, your head spinning and the world tilting at the same time. It sours your stomach, more than you thought possible, and you try to choke back the burn of bile that's racing up your throat.

"Are you going to be sick?" He reaches, stroking a finger down your face. You hold your tongue, unsure, and he must not like it, because he sighs, and then frowns at you. "Tell me."

"No, I don't-" You can't even finish your denial before your stomach is heaving, and he's springing to action shifting you amidst unbearable pain, turning you on your side to where a clean bucket sits, right beneath your bed.

"It's alright, that's it." A hand soothes up and down your back as you dry heave, sputtering on nothing, tears leaking from your eyes.

"Nnnrgh-"

"I know, I know. Poor thing." He coos, and it sounds so... endearing, so sweet yet... frightening, like the poison of a predator, a pretty display meant to draw you in before it snaps a set of jaws shut around your face.

"H-hurts." You cry as he rolls you back into your original position. "It hurts."

"I know it does, sweet girl. We're going to fix it." He dabs a cloth on your face, across your forehead and then down to clean your mouth up, just as the man with the mohawk appears on the bed, one knee down, leaning over you, concern rife in his features.

"Poor baby. Were ye sick?" You blink up at him. What is going on? He presses a glass to your lips, encouraging you to drink, and then pulling it away after you've had a few sips with a gentle 'not too much'.

"Who are you?" You smack your lips. The water is cold, refreshing, but a ting acidic, and you wonder if it's well water, maybe?

"I'm Johnny." He's setting up something, beside you. You can see him organizing something, but can't quite make them out due to your lack of mobility. "An' this is Simon. Or Si. But ye probably won't be callin' him that quite yet." Johnny and Simon. Did they find you? Did they rescue you? Why can't you remember?

"What happened?" You try again, gritting your teeth against the pain.

"Ye had an accident, remember? We talked about this yesterday? Ye slid off the road, ended up in a thick of trees. Ye're lucky the one didnae impale ye." Impale?

"And you found me?" You're starting to feel tired again, all the sudden, woozy and weird, exhaustion pulling at your limbs. Shouldn't you be in a hospital? Why haven't they taken you to a doctor?

"Aye, we did. Pulled ye free, brought ye home." Home?

"We couldn't leave you to die, and the storm is pretty bad. Pass is closed." Simon offers as an explanation, and you close your eyes. Of course. The pass is closed.

"Thank... thank you." Johnny hums, and then to your complete shock, leans forward, brushing his lips against yours as you blink furiously.

"Want ye to know, if we didnae have to do this, we wouldnae." What?

"Do what?" The broad one, Simon, casts you a mournful glance, rising from the chair. He's got a piece of leather in his hand, like a cut from a belt, and your eyes dart between them. Do what?

"Bite down on this, precious." Simon instructs, placing it against your bottom lip, to which you jerk away in protest with a whimper.

"Do what?" You try again.

"We need to set your humerus, and clavicle." Set your humerus? And your-

Oh. Oh no.

"N-no. No, you ca-can't." You stutter, but Johnny gives you a sad look, shifting on the bed to place a hand on your belly, stroking upwards to the middle of your chest, the other holding firm against your good shoulder, the one that doesn't hurt. His hand is warm, so warm against you, and his thumb rubs in a cautious motion against your skin, lightly grazing the underside of your breast. It feels weird, and wrong... intimate. "Please, don't. Please, please-"

"It's alright." He shushes you, and the pressure against your body increases as Simon wedges a thick finger between your teeth, slipping the worn leather into your mouth, bracing a hand above your elbow, and below your shoulder on the side that hurts. You gasp for air, fear shaking your body, and Johnny coos at you, telling you you'll be alright, that you're with them now and they'll take care of you, that it will only hurt for a little. "Ye'll probably pass out, bonnie. We'll get the second one done while ye're down, and I already gave ye something for the pain." He assures, like it's supposed to relieve you, and your nostrils flare as something tightens against your arm. Simon's grip.

This can't be happening. How can this happen? No, nononono-

There's a crack. A crunch. Burning, obliterating agony that's delivered to your arm like a shot. You scream and bite down at the same time, raw misery trying to claw it's way out of your throat. You think you're crying, hallucinating from the pain, having a heart attack, everything all at once. It hurts. It hurts so bad, it hurts-

"We're sorry, we're sorry." Simon soothes, thumb wiping your cheek, but you can hardly hear him, your mind starting to sever itself from your body, floating away as you slip inside a dark tomb of your mind, losing yourself to unconscious as they both stare down at you, sickeningly sweet concern layered overtop the faces of a bear and a wolf, predators licking their maws in preparation, waiting to devour their prey.

#peaches writes #ghoap x reader #ghost x soap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish #simon riley #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader

[rafesfavgirl]

stop asking me to stay — r. cameron

❝ please don't fall apart i can't face your breaking heart i'm trying to be brave stop asking me to stay ❞

pairing: bf!rafe x fem!reader

context: you and rafe have been dating for seven months, and while the relationship started it out well, as soon as the honeymoon phase ended (about 3 months in), everything went to shit. you've been trying to put up with it, but tonight, you realize you've had enough.

words: 1.4k+

warnings: toxic relationship, cocaine use, alcohol use, attachment issues, might make you cry, no happy ending, angst asf

you walk out into the backyard full of girls in swimsuits and guys in swim trunks with drinks in hand, strobes of light flashing around, and music blasting, hoping to find your dear boyfriend who had disappeared on you. again.

god, how much longer did he think you were gonna put up with this?

you look around, and head for topper when you spot him. he was playing pong against kelce and some of their other golf buddies.

"top," you call out to him when you walk up to the table to join them.

"hey, y/n," he greets you, as he readies his hand to shoot a ball. he does, and it lands in one of the cups, causing the surrounding guys and girls to erupt in cheers. "what's up?"

"have you seen rafe?" you ask him.

"nah, not lately," he shook his head at you, shooting his other ball.

he misses that one.

you snap your head towards kelce. "kelce?"

"last i saw him he was cutting a line in the living room upstairs, y/n," he shrugs, and you groan, rolling your eyes.

of course he was. fucking fantastic.

you don't even say another word to either of them before you walk away and head back towards the house. you manage your way through the crowd just fine and scurry up the stairs to the second floor.

just as kelce described, you find rafe seated on a couch in the living room surrounded by some guys and girls—one who was a little too close to him for your liking—cutting a line of coke with his black card.

"rafe," you say his name, and his head snaps up at the sound of your voice, his dark blue eyes meeting yours. 

he immediately stands up, pretending as if you didn't just see him cutting the line of coke with his card, shaking off the girl draped over his arm in the process. "y/n."

"can you take me home?" you ask, pulling your eyes away from his. you just couldn't stand to look in them anymore. "i have that interview with the admissions officer from yale tomorrow."

"yeah," he nods, rounding the coffee table to approach you. "whatever you want, baby."

everyone else eyes the two of you carefully, the girl previously draped over rafe giving you the stink eye. no one could ever pull rafe away from the coke faster than you.

when he stops to stand in front of you to block your view of the "friends" he left snorting lines of coke, you look up at him through your lashes, not knowing what to think.

"i've been looking for you for an hour," you say, and he sighs.

"i'm sorry," he replied—you were sick of hearing that though. it was the same half-assed apology every time. and yet, nothing ever changed.

you'd probably go through this exact thing again next weekend when he drags you to some other party.

"save it," you say, catching him off guard.

he knew you didn't like it when did coke, but you never stopped him from apologizing before.

"just take me home," you turn around and walk away from him, making your way back downstairs.

he follows closely behind you, but falls behind a little when you quickly course your way through the crowd on the first floor and he struggles to do the same.

"y/n, wait up," he jogs to catch up to you when you both step outside, but you just quicken your pace towards his car. "babe!"

you hear him call after you, and since his legs are much longer than yours, he manages to catch up and walk in front of you, stopping you in your tracks.

"can you just stop for a second?" he asks, placing both of his hands on either of your arms to make you look at him. "what's wrong?"

"do you even have to ask?"

he sighs, and drops his hands from your arms. "okay, so i snorted a line. what's the big deal?"

"was it just a line, rafe?" you asked, knowing he could never just stop at one.

"so maybe it was two or three," he admits with a shrug. "but what's the big deal? we're at a party, y/n. we came here to have fun!"

"you think this is fun?" you ask him, the pent up anger caused by the way he's been acting the last few months rising to the surface. "it is not fun for me to come with you to these parties only to find you've abandoned me after i go to the bathroom to go snort lines of coke, rafe! let alone find some girl draped all over you and you don't even seem to care!"

"oh for fuck's sake, it's not like i'm sneaking off to fuck them, y/n!" he defended. "they do that shit on their own. what do you expect me to do about that?"

"uh, i don't know, tell them to fuck off? to get off you? to stop? to move?" you say, stating several different things he could have said to them.

he knows your right, but as always, he refused to back down.

"god, are you seriously bitching about this?" his voice was louder know, the adrenaline from the coke clouding his judgment and riling him up. "wait- no, that's-" 

he immediately realized what he just said to you, and though he wanted to take it back—and even tried to—it was too late.

"you know what? just go back inside, rafe," you shrug, finally giving up.

there was no use fighting back anymore because you were never gonna get through to him. not when he was like this—coked out of his mind.

"go back to your coke buddies, go back to whatever girl decides to throw herself onto you next, and just forget about me," you tell him. "i'm done."

his coke-induced state of mind seems to fade completely when he hears those two words come out of your mouth.

"what?" his voice was much quieter now, and delicate. something not usual for rafe.

"you heard me," you said, looking him in the eyes. "i can't keep doing this, rafe."

"no, no, no, no, no," he shakes his head frantically, panic clearly building up in him at the thought of losing you. he closes the distance between the two of you and takes your hands in his. "i promise i'll do better, baby. i'll change. i love you."

as much as you wanted to give in and believe him, you knew that your relationship had run its course. he did love you—you never doubted that. but it shouldn't have to be this hard. enough was enough.

you needed to do what was best for you, and this just wasn't it anymore. as much as you loved him, you knew this was the best thing for you. no matter how badly it broke your heart, you had to walk away.

"not enough to choose me," you shook your head, tears threatening to well up in your eyes. "you give in every time."

he drops your hands from his, his demeanor changing again. now, he looked furious. cold. meaner.

"well, i'm sorry i'm not fucking perfect like you!" his voice was full of venom. the rafe cameron you fell in love with was gone. "you know what? just do what you want, y/n. go run off to yale and find some perfectly polished guy! see if i care."

his eyes filled with disgust as he trailed them over you, a scoff leaving his mouth, "i should've just fucked all those other girls. at least they know how to have fun."

while you knew he wouldn't take your words well, you never expected him to be so cruel. but then again, wasn't it always this way? when he was off of it, you never really knew what to expect.

another reason why you had to walk away. it wasn't worth all the exhaustion going back and forth with him. he wasn't worth it anymore.

"go ahead," you say, trying your hardest to keep a solid front. no way you were going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break.

he rolled his eyes. "find your own way home, bitch," he spat, bumping your shoulder as he walked back towards the house.

the second you knew he could no longer see you, you break.

the rafe you knew was gone.

part 2.

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

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#rafe cameron #rafe #outerbanks #obx #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe oneshot #outer banks #sad rafe #rafe obx #rafe cameron sad #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron x y/n

[webslingingslasher]

love frat peter with all my heart but i literally think i would bash my head against the wall (not bf peter situationship peter)

*cleaning out my inbox.*

‘if i was my friend, i would be calling them an idiot for getting played and being pathetic. yet, here i am, swearing it’s different and no one gets him like i do.’

a deep sigh. ‘i’m a fucking joke.’

peter can find the bliss in being ignorant, but sometimes he forgets that you live in it too, and can pull him right out of his trance and into reality.

this was one of those times. it wasn’t meant for his ears, he was just at the right place at the wrong time.

there’s nothing blissful about being aware you’re just a bad decision. and what a corner he’s backed himself into, would it hurt more to end it before you start to resent him or hurt more to keep continuing the same path, even if it’ll end in what you want?

would you still want him? or is he just subconsciously showing you how bad of a boyfriend he’d really be?

peter’s a lot of things, and since he’s met you, he’s become one more.

selfish.

it's not lost on him, peter can pretend to be stupid but he's smart enough to know what's actually going on under the surface. it's just nice in the blanket of ignorance.

'hey, stop being so mean to yourself. peter likes you, a lot. even if he pretends he doesn't.' your roommate is fighting for him, he's about to bring her a "just because" gift card.

'no, no, no, no! don't cry! stop crying!' peter's heart lurches, he wants to break the door down and give you a hug, especially when he can hear how watery your voice is.

'that's the whole fucking point! i mean, where do i get off on thinking that? i get he doesn't want to sit around and have a feelings party, but it would be really fucking nice to hear him say he wants to date me. or anything really.'

'hey,' peter's heart races, he's not sure what your roommate is about to admit to. 'remember a few weeks ago the frat had the black and red party, you skipped cause you were sick? - right, well, peter got fucking wasted and kept talking about you.'

a sniffle, no more tears. 'really? what'd he say?'

her boyfriend was one of the guys he talked to all night long, no doubt she got all the same information second hand. she could spill or she could let it mean something and let peter get there first.

peter could put aside his ego for ten minutes. if only to make you feel better.

'well, he-' before he could get thrown under the bus, he knocks on your door. 'hold on-' your roommate answers, you offer no movement, staring at the floor with your back turned.

she's looking at him expectantly, peter tilts his head towards you. 'wanna let me handle this one?' it's instant, your head whips around, the look on his face lets you know he heard everything.

'no, go away.'

peter sighs, 'trouble.'

'no, cause i already know what you're going to say.'

'no, you don't know what i'm about to say.'

tears blot at your eyes, your roommate ditches you in a second. peter approaches slowly while you're crawling up your bed. 'don't-' you take a sharp breath, 'don't even say anything cause i know i won't wanna hear it.'

you stare at your roommates side when peter takes a seat next to you, he's inches away, you feel too vulnerable to face him. you already know what he's about to say, that he likes hanging out with you and it typically starts and ends there.

'hey, trouble. you wanna look at me?'

you shake your head, it's pointless because peter's already cupping your face pulling it towards his. 'ready?' you pull his hands off you by tugging at his wrists, a grouchy persona took over.

'for the same conversation? sure, peter.'

'i like you.'

you wait for the friendly twist he always likes to slide in. 'i like you, you're pretty cool, you know?' but it doesn't come. peter ended it on that, you peek back at him, he doesn't seem as scary as before.

'yeah? and?'

peter reaches out to brush his thumb across your cheek. 'that's what i said at the party. that i like you.' a flash of disappointment, he moves past it. 'and that's only because i wanted to save this next part just for you.'

attention caught, blown pupils look into his own.

'i want you to be my girlfriend,' he's quick to kill the light that roars in your eyes. 'wait, wait, wait, no, let me finish.' you feel like you're walking a tightrope.

'i like you and i want you to be my girlfriend, just... not yet. but that's what i want and that's kind of my end goal in this.'

a double ended sword, either you suffer in silence until he’s ready, or you suffer until you can’t stand it anymore and leave.

'that's it?' he couldn't have worded it in a way to get every single hope up, to make you feel weightless for an entire second before he pulled the rug?

'yeah, that's it.' what did you want? an i love you?

‘oh.’ you pull at the sleeves of your sweater to cover your hands. ‘oh?’ peter tries to catch your eyes, you sound more sad now than when you were crying.

‘i need time to think, i think.’

‘think about what?’

‘this.’ you gesture at the empty space between you. ‘us.’

peter’s turn, he understands. ‘oh.’ you nod, ‘yeah, oh.’ there’s an awkward pause in the room, neither of you quite sure what to say or where to go from there.

there was nothing peter could do, he’s just a person at your disposal. ‘um,’ think, peter, think. he wishes you weren’t hiding your eyes from him. ‘okay. that’s okay. we can…’ peter takes a big breath, he didn’t realize how much he didn’t want this until now. ‘… we can spend some time apart.’

‘okay.’ why weren’t you bothered? why weren’t you more upset? why were you so fucking indifferent?

peter feels selfish again, he just doesn’t know if he’ll get one again. ‘can i get a kiss before i go?’ you take a moment to make up your mind, peter wonders if you’re agreeing for the same reason. ‘yeah.’

no, it’s because he’s selfish. you don’t initiate anything, just frowning at your fingers as they curl and uncurl around the fabric of the sweatshirt he once owned.

‘i can’t kiss you if i can’t see you, trouble.’ a distant nod, ‘right.’ peter wishes he didn’t ask to look at you, he wishes he didn’t notice the blank look in your eyes. ‘are you okay, trouble?’

it’s soft, and delicate. he just wants to make you feel better, but he’s the one hurting you. it’s so utterly selfish, yet you want it too.

‘no.’ if you whisper it, it doesn’t hurt so bad. for either of you. you can both pretend it wasn’t said. ‘i’m sorry.’ there’s a lot to be sorry for, it’s just a blanket statement.

‘yeah.’ neither of you believe it. you just want him gone, you need to treat yourself like a friend. ‘kiss?’ peter wants to keep talking, but he can’t really find anything substantial to say.

it wasn’t very tender, or sweet. maybe it was the passion peter was missing, everything feels so sad. was this the answer before you said it? was this a goodbye kiss? if not, why did it feel like one?

peter pats your knee, ‘balls in your court, trouble. call me when you’re ready?’ you daintily nod, it’s like you’re in another world. ‘okay.’

you hold your eyes shut when peter kisses your forehead, it’s bullshit. ‘and if you need me, we can put this to the side, okay?’

‘okay,’ you push him back. ‘you can go now.’ peter has to swallow a lump in his throat, you’re eager to push him out and push him away. is this how you feel? is peter having a moment of clarity and empathy?

god, he’s a shitty human.

‘i don’t think im going to come over this week, so you can bring my laundry back.’ you were supposed to do it at his house, and you were supposed to wash your clothes with his, and you were supposed to fold them together.

you’re already thinking a week ahead? no, peter’s selfish, he’ll make you come back. ‘no problem. i’ll wash them for you, i’ll even clean out my second drawer to put ‘em in.’

he wants to do the thing you've been hinting at for weeks, now? is he really grasping at straws? what fucking happened? what changed? peter's not even going to give you a chance to fight it, you can't say no if he's not here.

'i'll talk to you later?' you nod. you can't even say it back? everything about this is wrong. but he can't fix it, not when you told him you needed to think about things, not when you're on the cusp of giving up on him.

peter can hear you sob into your pillow when he latches the door shut.

----

when you said you didn't plan on coming around this week, peter didn't think that meant speaking to him too. no texts, no snapchats, no dm's, no facetimes, no frat parties, nothing.

peter puked three times friday night, day six of the silent treatment. he swears it's because he was drinking too much but peter knows what anxiety feels like for him and how it comes out.

peter can also kiss the idea of sleep away. he's had four nightmares this week, two of them back to back. spider-man's been sluggish and now he has a nasty bruise across his jawline. nothing felt right.

since you last talked to him, peter's had a constant stomach ache and headache. not to mention how he's just not really hungry anymore and you've gotten really skilled at hiding from him.

peter knows he said the balls in your court, but what if you never pass it back?

day eight and all is saved.

'sleepover?'

peter swallowed his tongue at the text, you wanted to spend the night, that's a good thing, right? girls don't fuck and dump, right? peter's heart is drumming like it never has before, wagging his imaginary tail like a puppy dog he's never responded quicker.

'yes!' peter erases it. 'of course!!! i missed you so much i think i was dying and i really couldn't breathe and-' peter deletes that one too.

what's good enough to make you think you deserve this?

'you got it, trouble. wanna let me take you out to dinner for date night with your favorite frat boy?' maybe he's laying it on a little thick, but peter swears he's withering away without you next to him in bed.

'only if it's expensive.' peter will take out a loan if it means you'll have dinner with him, if all you want from him is a nice dinner, he'll do it. he'll do anything if it means you'll stay with him.

'only the best for my girl.' you read it, but didn't answer. peter took it a step further. 'i'll pick the place. i'll even borrow someone's car.' meaning, he was going somewhere nice. it did fine. 'just let me know what time to be ready, parker.' but it wasn't good enough.

peter may have been an asshole prior, because the way your face lit up with a ten dollar bouquet of flowers told him that he should've been doing this all along. if he had, he wouldn't have been here.

'for me?' you brought the cellophane to your nose, 'really?' they smell lovely, like they were actually picked out and not just the first thing he saw. 'of course. only the best for my baby.'

a flash in your eyes, but it doesn't work, not in the way it normally does. no, this time it seems to amuse you. he doesn't care, you look breathtaking and he's about to have his heart thump from his chest.

'i'm going to be the luckiest guy there tonight.' peter blurted it without thinking, but what's worse, or better, is that he truly believed it. he waited patiently when you set the flowers down, but couldn't hold it in the second you turned for him.

'can i have a hug?' touch starved and itching for your hold, you quirked a brow, were you waiting for a kiss? peter thinks kisses be damned, he'll pass out if he can't wrap you in his arms.

'sure-' before you could finish you're in his chest, his palms wash over your back, you're heated up in a second. you take a deep breath, he does the same.

there was a lot of reflecting, but a whole lot more missing. peter just couldn't hide his well. 'i'm sorry, but i missed you so fucking much.' your heart warms, you knew it.

'i did, too.' it's all that was needed, you felt peter match your breaths, one single unit, together. it's how peter thinks it should be, it's how it should be. he doesn't know how he could go back to not that.

you think he's about to kiss you, it's a different look in his eyes. instead, he brushes out your outfit and nods towards the door.

-----

peter feels like he's on the countdown, even more so when the bill came and you hadn't said a word about your week of recollection. you didn't bring it up on the way home, or when he stopped for dessert, or even when you got back to the chapter house.

but he still kept an arm around you when you chose to head for the kitchen instead of the stairs, peeking in and brightening up when you see your favorite brother at the island.

'ethan!' you were almost as happy when you got your flowers. almost. peter lightly pushed you forward, letting you get in a hug while he grabbed something to drink.

'you're looking very fancy tonight.' you curtsy and thank him, a gesture towards your date. 'peter's idea.' ethan reaches for a fist bump, peter gladly accepts.

you'd love to catch up but peter's antsy and you're not that mean. 'breakfast tomorrow?' you glance to peter, 'is that okay with you?' his tail starts wagging again, there's going to be a tomorrow. 'of course.'

ethan agrees, 'breakfast it is.' you share a look with him, a sly smile. looking around the kitchen, three other brothers. where does peter's loyalty lie? how much did he actually miss you? how much did he learn?

'kiss?' a cup clatters, four sets of eyes watching. 'huh?' you spin with your back to the crowd, 'kissy.' it's the first you've asked for all night, you're counting the hesitation in your mind. one, two, thr...

and it's a kiss. the kind that had you begging for more, even if he was already attached. one that had you melting into his chest while he held your back sturdy. one that said he really didn't give a fuck who was watching anymore.

peter's selfish and he needs to breathe. you hold him by the collar of his jacket, he peeks up to his brothers, a slight blush followed. he can hear the chirps in his mind.

'one more,' it's chaste. you mumble against his lips, 'last one.' peter knows your game, he doesn't have anything to lose but you. he'd put up with shit the rest of his life if he meant you kept asking him for kisses.

a slurry of pecks, you push him away at the sound of gagging from the audience. 'okay, okay!' you swipe at the corner of his lip, nothing's there but a distant memory. 'you taste like chocolate.'

'are my kisses that sweet?' another gag, 'take it upstairs, parker.' you pull on his hand, 'yeah, parker. let's take it upstairs.' you shake off the cheers and drag peter up the stairs behind you by the hand.

you peel your jacket off in his room, your shoes next. like he told you, clean and folded clothes in the second drawer down on his dresser. you pull out your own pajamas, peter watches intently.

'do you want me to turn around, or... nevermind.'

'you're very polite tonight, parker.' a slip of the tongue, you didn't mean it like that, but he took it as such. 'no. please stop calling me that. i'm trying, trouble. i'm really trying.'

'i know you are, you're cute when you're desperate.' peter holds his breath, 'what does that mean?'

'it means you have an ultimatum.' there's nothing good that can come of this, he knows it. you're going to tell him to either make it official or move on, you must have expected the latter. why else did it take so long to reach out?

peter can feel his hands shake, he hides them by crossing his arms. you don't look half as nervous, you're scaring him because he can't read you. it sinks in, it's because you're final in your decision.

'sit.' you pat the space next to you on his bed, you settle underneath the blankets and pull it over your knees. 'did you wash your sheets, too?'

'yeah,' you smile at peter. he's gnawing at his bottom lip. 'they smell clean.' you nudge peter's arm, he swallows thickly. 'ready?'

undivided attention. 'i don't want to break things off.' visible relief, you're not sure if peter is religious, but you think he just said a thank you to god.

'good. i really don't want you to break things off either.'

'but-'

'fuck.' you frown with a little sympathy, he couldn't have thought it was that easy.

'it can't go back to how it was, peter. you're not ready for the boyfriend title, fine. but i need more from you, if you can't give me that, this ends.'

anything, anything, anything.

'what do you need from me?'

this is where it gets tricky, for you and for him. 'i want you to be my boyfriend. you're not ready, but you want to be, right? you said that's how you see us ending, remember?'

'yeah, of course.' you've been thinking logically and this is the best solution for now. this is what you can handle for now. this is what's best for now.

'then treat me like that's the end game. take me out, kiss me in front of your friends, hold my hand on campus. commit to me, truly and fully commit to me. act like you want me to be and stay your girlfriend.'

is that it? he just has to treat you how he's always wanted to, but was scared to do so because he didn't want you to think it was more than it was?

'okay. i can do that, i promise i can do that.'

it's not that easy, it never is. 'yeah, but, this isn't forever, peter. there's not an infinite timeline on this, this is just for right now.'

peter's terrified to ask, but he still does. 'when does right now end?'

it's why you were so calm, how you were able to keep away from him and not show the same amount of craving he did. peter was right, your decision was final and you were serious.

peter was on borrowed time, but this time, you knew it too.

'when i say it does. because, right now, i could walk away at any second, and you'd let me because you'd have no one else to blame.' 

selfish, selfish, selfish. 

because all peter heard was, ‘but i’m not done, yet.’ 

#frat!peter blurbs

[lipringlrh]

i know it wont work | CL16

"I hate to look at your face and know that we're feeling different.” - i know it won’t work, gracie abrams

summary: you don’t love charles anymore and it’s wrong to keep dragging him along.

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

an: wrote this ages ago but remembered it. happy charles contract day !!!

word count: 1.8k

warning: a bit suggestive? breakups and angst, sad charles who likes to beg x

feedback and reblogs appreciated !!

we need to talk.

He received the text from you this morning, but he didn't want to respond. He knew what was coming but he had been ignoring it and trying his best to fix it for the past month.

He could feel you falling out of love with him over the past few weeks and he had tried everything to fix it. He'd bought you flowers, took you on fancy dates, and constantly did your favourite activities with you. It's not like he wasn't doing that before, he most definitely was, but he made it more often and romantic than before. The last thing he wanted was to lose you.

You would've said the same every day of your life until recently. You didn't know how it happened, or when or why, but it did and you hated yourself for it. You didn't want to fall out of love with Charles, you always believed you'd be together for the rest of your lives, so when you realised it was happening you ignored it, trying to force the feelings back. You immersed yourself in the dates he took you on and tried so hard to love him but you couldn't help it anymore.

It didn't take much time to realise Charles knew. He could always read you better than anyone else which you usually loved. He spent days crying into your arms, holding you and refusing to let you leave, mourning the relationship he knew was coming to an end. Neither of you addressed it though, you just waited, hoping the other would talk first. Despite loving him less and less, you loved the relationship you had with him, and you didn't want to leave him.

It was unfair though, you realised. You'd stare at each other and you could see easily how in love he was with you whilst you felt nothing. It was horrible dragging it on, especially knowing he knew, and you couldn't spend time with him without feeling incredibly guilty.

You didn't know how to go about it, telling the man you thought you'd spend your life with you didn't love him, but after sending the text, you knew you'd started it the wrong way.

You weren't surprised by the lack of response, you guessed it might happen, but you stayed home all day knowing he would show up at some point. And at quarter past eleven at night, he did.

You both were sat on the same sofa, not too far apart but far enough you couldn't touch each other without leaning. Charles hadn't looked at you since he arrived, he stared mostly at the floor, very occasionally looking up. It wasn't hard to notice the colour of his eyes - they were bright red, most likely from a mix of crying and rubbing them.

You sat in silence for a while, neither of you saying anything, neither of you wanting to admit the truth. Neither of you had told anyone the issues over the past month, but a few close friends had some ideas.

Charles was playing with his fingers, ripping off skin at the corners, he didn't want to hear what he knew you were going to say but he couldn't sit in the silence any longer without crying.

"Please just get it over with," he whispered, hoping he had the completely wrong idea for the last month.

You paused for a moment, taking deep breaths, trying not to cry yourself, "I'm not in love with you anymore."

It made you feel sick to finally say it out loud. You hated yourself for feeling it and for bottling it in for so long.

The room was silent again but not for long. Charles' head was in his hands, and small sobs could be heard from him.

"Charles, I am so sorry. I didn't want this to happen, I wanted to spend my life with you, I promise."

“Don’t, please,” he cried, voice shaking.

You started to focus on your own breathing again, forcing yourself to hold back from crying, “we can’t be together anymore.”

He looked up, straight at you. You could see his face fully now for the first time, Tears ran down his face, which was already blotchy. He looked tired and hopeless, and you feared he’d only get worse.

“Yeah, no shit,” his voice started off strong before breaking completely at the end, sending out another wave of sobs.

“God, I am so sorry, Charles, I am so sorry,” you sniffled, beginning to cry yourself.

He just shook his head and places it back in his hands. His full body was shaking and he was sobbing harder than you thought possible.

“Can you- can you hold me please?” he choked, barely holding back his cries.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea-”

“Please,” he begged, shamelessly. He didn’t care anymore, you knew he needed you, he didn’t need to hide it.

You moved closer to him, barely, still keeping a safe distance. You placed a hand on his head, not sure what else to do.

Charles made the next move and placed himself right next to you, almost on top of you. He leaned into you, pressing his head into your shoulder. You wrapped your arms around him subconsciously, pulling him closer.

He carried on shaking into you, letting out strangled sobs. They never seemed to end, he just seemed to carry on for what felt like forever. You cried too, into his hair, occasionally pressing tender kisses wherever you could reach.

"Please let me stay tonight, it's too dark for me to drive. Let me just have one last night with you please," he begged, still crying into your shoulder.

You knew it was bullshit - he drove just as well at night as in the day and it was just as dark as when he came, but you didn’t have the energy to dispute him.

“Charles-”

“Please, baby, just one night. Just one.”

You couldn’t answer him. It would be so wrong to say yes but it felt wrong to say no.

“Let me have one last good memory. Let me prove what you’re missing,” he tried pleading again.

You sighed, nodding, not that he could see you. He could feel you though but wasn’t entirely sure if your movements meant anything.

“Hmm, you want to? Please, baby. Talk to me.”

“Okay.”

“Okay, yes? Talk properly.” he ordered, sharply yet quietly, taking more control over his tears.

“Yes Charles,” you responded. He tried to look at you pointedly, silently pushing you for more, but with his tear-stained face it didn't work too well. After knowing him better than anyone, you understood though, “Yes Charles, you can stay.”

“Good answer,” he whispered, turning back into your neck, pressing lazy kisses up and down, “such a good answer angel.”

“Charles,” you almost whined. Almost. It’d be wrong to let him have you the way he wanted whilst he was in this state but God did it feel good.

He was moving down your jaw, leaving wet, loving, kisses in the wake. He was pushing himself into you, moving against your thigh.

“Let me make love to you, baby,” he moaned, rutting his hips faster against yours, “don’t refuse. I know you can’t resist me. Please.”

His face was pressed into your neck, switching between sucking and biting down. His hands moved further down, touching your chest and body in all the right places.

“Yes. Please, Charles.”

————

You slept well that night, better than you had in a long while even though you were still wrapped up in Charles’ arms. You were woken up by him, dabbing light kisses down your neck.

Light fled in through the window, hitting you and Charles perfectly. You awoke to feel his hair tickling your chin, his lips now kissing across your shoulder.

“Charles, not again,” you groaned, not wanting him to stop at all, but you were beginning to feel guilty. You just spent a night with a man who loved you unconditionally, knowing that you didn't, "Come on, Charles, get up."

He carried on kissing you, moving towards your collar bone, then inching further down, "we can go again."

You tangled your hands in his hair, moving his face up, away from your body.

"No, Charles," you paused, taking in a sharp intake of breath as Charles began kissing your jaw, "Charles, you need to go."

He stopped instantly and looked up at you. It was easy to notice the sudden change in demeanour. His playful attitude was gone, replaced with a much more miserable one. He already looked like he was going to cry again.

He'd put last nights conversation to the back of his mind, only focusing on the fact he had you all to himself. He didn't want to remember it either.

"Is there anything I can do to make you love me?" he whispered, brokenly, on the verge of crying again.

He rested his head on your chest, beginning to sob into you. His body was lightly shaking, only getting more vigorous as time went on. You couldn't respond to him - you couldn't even look at him. Guilt ate you up inside, you wanted to love him.

"I think you should go, Charles," you spoke, your voice cracking. You were crying now too.

"I want to stay."

"I don't love you Charles," you cried, "I think it's best if you leave."

"Could you love me again?" he pried, barely being able to speak between gasping for breath, his crying taking over his whole body.

"I think you should go."

"Can you answer me?" he begged.

You didn't want to but you had to. You repeated yourself again, "I think you should go, Charles,"

He propped himself up on his arms, his face over yours. He had tear tracks down his face. He was hopeful when he shouldn't be, "you're not saying no."

"I'm saying I think you should go."

"Please," he asked again, wanting nothing more than you to give in. He always believed, deep down, you were it for him, his forever person, and he really didn't want to give you up.

"Please go, Charles," you pleaded, refusing to look at him. If you could go back in time and fix your feelings, you would, in every timeline, but you couldn't and you regretted it every second.

"I'm going," he sighed, defeatedly, getting up from the bed. He grabbed his clothes, dressing himself with little effort.

He took his time, trying to savour every last bit of time with you, even if it was bittersweet. He took one last look at you before he was out of the door, holding your gaze for as long as he could.

"I promise you I'll love you forever, call me if you'll let me".

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc headcanon #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 angst #f1 fluff #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc oneshot #charles leclerc drabble #formula one angst #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 angst #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x oc #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 smut #formula 1 #formula one #charles leclerc f1 #my writing

[etheries1015]

MC lives just as lonely as Malleus does, and he thinks to himself...perhaps they could be lonely together?

Loneliness was not something you were unaccustomed to, and perhaps your hopes got a little too high coming to NRC. Although you had Grim Ace and Deuce on the occasion, the majority of students pretended as if you did not exist. This was fine, you said. It isn't different than before. You were used to not particularly having many friends, keeping to yourself, and guarding your heart from the world. You could not be open as you had dreamed of being, for every time you had shown your true nature, being turned away from had become the norm in your life.

But loneliness can fester and turn into self-loathing, tears sprinkling down your cheeks as you sat on the little broken bench in front of Ramshackle, staring out into the dark emptiness of the worn-down garden that hadn't been tended to for quite some time. You could truly sympathize with the garden- perhaps a few people came here and there to tend to the flowers, yet eventually everyone leaves, desolate and alone the floral slowly wither away into nothing. Much as yourself, growing thorns around your battered heart, for being alone is better than being betrayed by the lies of those who claim to care.

However you convince yourself to continue on, choking down those ugly emotions by painting a smile and playing one big game of pretend- for nobody likes to hear the woes of a person known to be an optimist and the face of a proper prefect; their world or otherwise.

Malleus, however, knew that face all too well. He knew from the moment he first met you in the front gates of your run-down dorms, although you spoke to him like any other student, he could see you and him were alike; surrounded by fake smiles and false pretenses of friendship for their benefit or enjoyment. He understood the differences between realness and a front, a mask he noticed you often put on in front of everyone else. Yet with him... you were very much real, and honest, despite sheltering the deepness of your personality in the depths of your heart you hadn't made it a point to lie to the prince as you had gotten to become close to him. He desperately found himself wanting to know you- pulling apart the layers, he wanted to learn more about who you were, about the things you liked, how you felt, how to see the world, to finally rid himself of his loneliness by inviting another to share his burdens; and he was terrified of it all the same.

Malleus grew up understanding his duties and knowing the facade he had to put on in front of everyone else- he knew he had to be the perfect prince, a leader, the face of a country, and the spokesperson of his people. Yet around you...he was free to talk about anything and everything under the sun and moon without judgment, without fear of tainting his name, without the shackles of princehood holding him down. He had people fear him, running away at the simple sight of his horns, and avoiding him as if Malleus were the plague himself. He knew he was destined to be truly alone- that was, until he found someone to be himself around. Although you were often by your lonesome and kept to yourself, you had always found a way to lift his spirits, smiling at him with genuine interest rather than the plastic he was sick of staring at.

That is why he was utterly shocked when he found you staring at the garden, tears pooling down your cheeks with that same look he had been all that familiar with. He had quietly sat next to you on the bench, noticing your melancholic gaze not leaving the garden although you now had company beside you. Together you sat in the silence of understanding, until you had taken a shaky breath and choked out a feeble cry of help.

"I'm tired of being lonely," Was all you said. Malleus felt his hand creep over to yours, gently grasping it and squeezing it with a slight tremble.

"You do not have to be," He said, turning his emerald eyes to stare into your own, "I...am here now." You pursed your lips and nodded slightly, leaning your body against the tall Faes strong build. There was not much to say, not much to do, yet in contrast it seemed as if the puzzle had simple put itself together in one aura of familiarity and assimilation without verbal articulation .

Silence reigned once more...two solitary souls finding comfort in one another's presence.

...For however long it'll last.

#Twisted wonderland #twst #Twisted wonderland x reader #Malleus #Malleus x reader #Malleus draconia x reader #Twst headcannons #twisted wonderland headcannons #Tired of finding solace in video games #Kind of self induldgent ngl

[norrisleclercf1]

Broken Hearts and Duct Tape

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader x Lando Norris

Part 7 of Our Boy Series

Rating: PG-13

Words: 2.3K

Warnings: Angst, Anxiety, Therapy, Slight fluff, etc.

Our Boy Series / Previous: Letter 1 / Next: Letter 2

Synopsis: When a current fight brings up the memories of an old fight, Lando and Charles remember a dark time in their relationship

It's the quiet mornings that have Charles's skin crawling. He's not used to it. The silence currently filling his home is not his true home, though. If you asked him 10, maybe 15 years ago, he'd say home was Monaco and Italy. Now? It's where ever his family is. Home is where Cecile and Elijah fight and wreak havoc. It's where he can find you curled up reading or Lando outside in the garage working on his cars. 

This wasn't his home. It's far too quiet. He hated it. Charles wanted nothing more than to whip his mug at a wall and scream his anger, but he couldn't. "Did you get any sleep?" Charles's back goes rigid. Lando has not spoken to him since he kicked you out of the Monaco home. "Yeah, Elijah curled into me last night." His voice muffled by the mug. "Cecile finally fell asleep," Lando murmured, leaning against the island, far from Charles. 

"Okay, let's get this over with." Charles slams his mug down, a small crack forming at the bottom. "You're pissed I kicked her out." Lando looks up, his curls still there but slightly lined with age. They were standing in the same kitchen, the exact spots they did 10 years ago. But this time, it was Charles on the other end. "Of course I am," Lando hisses, pushing off the counter. "You kicked our fucking wife out! Our wife, the mother of our children, I'm more than pissed. I want to rip your fucking head off." "Don't raise your voice. The kids are sleeping." Charles hushes, but Lando shakes his head. 

"Don't! Don't you dare tell me not to raise my voice? Charles, what the fuck were you thinking? We have always discussed this together. Why didn't you wait for me to come home?" Lando choked on the words, shaking his head to stop the emotions from bubbling up. "The moment she stepped through those doors, I don't know. All I could see was her 19-year-old self and thinking of all the lies she's told us, me. I gave her everything, and she," Staring down at his mug, he loved this mug. 

It was a Father's Day gift you got him. Still, fresh into the relationship and with a 3-month-old, you just bought it. You gave it to him as a joke, but he cried slightly. "She lied," He whispers, letting go of the mug. "Charles, she was hurt! SHE WAS 19!" Lando roars. "Daddy?" Charles and Lando whip their head to the stairs, Elijah and Cecile staring at them with fear and anxiety. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Lando whispers, reaching out for Cecile, yet Elijah pulls Cecile back. 

"Cece, go upstairs to my room. Yeah, we can talk in a few." Elijah whispers. His sister doesn't answer, glaring at him as she walks up the stairs. "We'll, we'll be upstairs," Elijah whispers, taking off. "10 years ago, that's how long it's been," Lando whispers. Charles flinches, staring at the kitchen door, the wood still damaged from that night. "You're doing the same thing to her like you did to me," "That's not the fucking same. Never, ever compare these two situations again." Lando glares at Charles, scuffing. 

"Please, you kicked me out the same way you kicked her out." "YOU CAME HOME DRUNK! Fucking Christ Lando, you," "No, no, I know exactly what happened that night," Lando whispers, "You don't have to remind me." 

------------------------------------------------------

10 years ago 

"He's still not home?" You feel like crying, holding your 1 year old sick with a horrible fever. "No, I don't know where he is," Charles whispers, pulling you in as you bounce, Cecile screaming her head off. "Find him, Charles, please." You beg, trying to calm down Cecile. "Okay, I'll be back." He whispers, kissing your forehead. 

Walking down the hall, he stops, pushing Elijah's door open, smiling when he sees his 6-year-old boy sleeping. Holding his teddy bear dressed as Lando. Closing the door, he flicks on the stairs light, freezing when he hears the rattling of the kitchen back door. Bending down, he grabs the bat. He raises it but stops seeing the familiar bright orange and curls tumble into the kitchen. 

"Alright, here we are." "Carlos?" Hitting the light switch, Charles's teammate Carlos and his husband disheveled state. "Hey, Charles. Lando, um," "Go home, Carlos," Carlos cleared his throat. As Carlos pats his friend's back, Lando hunches over the kitchen island and leaves. "Where the fuck have you been?" "Hav, ugh, having fun." Lando slurs, the rage in Charles building more. "That's it." Charles yanks open the fridge door, grabbing an ice-cold water. Cracking the lid off, he moves, pouring it all over Lando. 

"Oh god! What the fuck?" Lando yells, now sober enough to remember this. "You're a mess, acting like you're a child." Charles spits, tossing the empty bottle into the sink. "Screw you. I was having fun, Charles." Lando takes a deep breath, trying to stop the nausea. "Y/n and I have been calling you for hours, Lando. Cecile is sick." Lando's head snaps up. "What? Is she okay?" Lando moves to go upstairs, but Charles steps in front of him. 

"What are you doing? Get out of my way." "No, you're drunk." Charles pushes him back, not hard, just to get him back up. "You smell of a club, liquor, and probably cheap ass," "I wasn't with anyone else. Just Carlos." Lando whispers. "I don't care! We have children, Lando. A wife, in case you forgot, a fucking husband as well." Holding up his hand, Charles shows Lando the ring on his finger. "I didn't forget, but maybe I don't want to be trapped." 

Stepping back, Charles feels like the ground has swallowed him whole. "Trapped? Is that what we are to you? A cage?" Charles's chest starts to heave up and down. His anxiety ramping up more now. This can't happen now. Charles can't have an anxiety attack now. "No, I didn't mean it like that," Lando whispers, reaching for Charles. Lando always knew when Charles got anxious, holding his hand always grounded his husband. 

"Don't," Charles pulls his hands out of reach. "For almost 6 months now, you've been partying, drinking, god knows what else. Also, you don't talk to me anymore, only Carlos." Charles can't help the venom that drips off of Carlos's name when he says it. "Charles, I love you and Y/n. Please, can we not do this tonight?" Lando asks, stepping to the side to go upstairs, but Charles shoves him back. 

"Are you cheating on us?" This was colder than the water, sobering Lando fully now. "No." Charles stares at Lando. This was not the man he fell in love with. "You're hiding something from me, from us. Yet, Carlos seems to know what it is." "Charles, don't do this. Not tonight. Cecile is sick." "No, we're doing this now. What are you hiding?" Charles pushes, Lando starting to grow annoyed. "GOD DAMMIT! Mercedes offered me a seat, OKAY. And I took it without a second thought. I took the fucking seat. And right now, I hate myself because I said yes without even thinking of you, the babies, or our wife!" Lando roars, Charles's eyes wide. 

"When?" Charles whispers, looking down at his feet. "What?" Lando sighs, pulling on those curls, a sign he was stressed. "When did this happen? Because I remember we always said we'd decide this together, and you didn't even think about us? Do you even want to be married to us? You spend all your nights away drinking and come home lying, saying you've been with the McLaren team and all went for drinks. But you're not. You're lying." Lando looks away, unable to look Charles in the face. 

"I regret it, Charles. God, I know I shouldn't have said yes. But this is Mercedes." "No, no, you don't get to do that. You'll have to move. Go back home to London. Did you even think about me? My family, our family is here. This is where we decided to raise the kids. And now you're saying, fuck all of that, I rather have a Mercedes seat." "You're telling me you wouldn't have done the same thing?" Lando's anger grows with each ticking minute. 

"NO! Because I love our family! I value you and Y/n, but you clearly don't. Like you said, we're a fucking cage keeping you locked down. So you know what," Charles laughs, grabbing his ring. "No, no, don't, Charles, please. I'm so sorry." Lando holds Charles's hand, stopping his husband. "Don't take off your ring, not the one I gave you, please. I love you." "Clearly not, because right now, I regret marrying you." Charles gasps, his world spinning as his anxiety and fears grow too much for him to handle. 

"You don't mean that." Lando whimpers, Charles shoving his hand off. "I do! What you've done, I mean, I get it. But Lando, you have a family. How could you do this?" Charles laughs, playing with the ring on his finger. "Selfish, I was being selfish. Please just don't do this." Lando begs, ready to drop to his knees. "Get out. I want you out of this house." Charles whispers. Lando drops his head, tears falling from both men as Charles bolts up the stairs. The only signal that Lando left was the slamming of the door and wood splintering everywhere the following day. 

-------------------------------------------------------------

"Every time I fuck up, I worry you'll kick me out again. Take off your ring again, and you," Lando takes a deep breath. "Have you been attending your therapy sessions?" Charles's jaw ticks. He hasn't. "Charles, you haven't been going, have you? Baby, you know you can't mess them." Charles stares at his mug, all the emotions coming up. "When I first went, you wanna know what the Doc said?" "What?" "That when I'm faced with abandonment, I lash out; I did it again." Charles laughs. It's all he can do to stop himself from crying. 

"Charles, call your therapist," Lando whispers, sliding his phone over. "I can't because the only number I want to call is her." He can't hold it anymore as his lips wobble, the sob breaking. "Charlie." Lando rushes over as Charles slides to the floor, Lando holding him. "What have I done? I broke our family." Charles sobs, Lando pulling him into him. His arms are wrapped tight as Charles hides in his husband's chest. "I hurt you, I hurt Y/n. I'm the reason, I'm the," "Shhhh, it's okay. You're okay." Lando whispers. 

"It's all in the past. It all worked out. Look at us, Charles. We have two gorgeous children living here in Monaco and London. We did it. We can do it again." Charles's chest rattles as he sucks in a breath. "I said such awful things to her. I'll never blame her if she doesn't come back." "She'll come back, but we'll get our asses kicked." Charles laughs, Lando, joining him. 

"Dad? Pa?" Sniffling, Charles stands up, wiping his eyes and nose quickly. "Yea," His voice cracks. Lando giggles as Charles smacks him. "Yeah, Ducky?" Elijah steps out from the stairs slowly, and Charles hates that when he looks at Elijah, now he can see Nico. But Charles shakes it off because Elijah has Charles's drive, Lando's humor, and stubbornness.

"Um, Mama, she didn't want me to tell you, but Mama left me something." Holding out his arm, Lando welcomes Elijah into his side. "What did she leave you?" Lando asks, kissing Elijah's temple. "Before that, um," Elijah pulls back, fiddling with his fingers.

"You're my fathers. You raised me. Pa, you're the one who started to call me Ducky first. It's a stupid nickname from a stupid duck towel I loved as a kid. Dad, you shaped me to be the driver I am today, and I'll never say thank you enough. Pa, you taught me the piano, and that's our thing. Dad, you're always there when I'm sick, even breaking me out of school to go Karting." Elijah sighs, tears all gone. 

"Nico did none of that. He wasn't there. And Mama never knew why he truly left, but that doesn't matter. Not to me. I had two wonderful fathers. I don't need a third, just you two." Lando smiles, pulling Elijah into a hug. "You're grounded," "Lando," Charles sighs. "No, he is. He ran off into Monaco during a GP weekend. Grounded, 3 weeks. No phone, gaming, or karting. Unless it's for official business. You ever do something like that again, and your ass is fried. Got me." Elijah smiles, nodding in agreement. 

"That's fine," "Now, what is it your mother left you?" Charles asks, looking at his mug and seeing a crack. "Damn, your mug is cracked, Pa." Elijah mumbles, grabbing the mug, "It's fine, nothing duct tape can't fix." Charles grabs it back, cradling it almost. "Right," Taking a breath, Elijah pulls out a stained envelope with your name written. "She said that Nico left a letter for her at their old apartment. She never opened it, and I want you two here with me when I read it." Elijah stares down at Nico's handwriting, wondering what might be there. 

"Are you sure? I'm sure it's private." Charles asks, standing at his son's other side. "Yeah, I want my parents here to discover why he left. I don't know how I'll react, and honestly, I think you two need answers as well." Charles looks up at his husband, grabbing his hand and kissing the ring he gave Lando. "Open it. Let's find out why the bastard left." "Dad," "Lando." Lando just smirks, shrugging his shoulders. 

"Okay, well," Elijah opens it, the paper crinkling as he pulls the letter out and starts to read. 

"Ducky, don't be alarmed at the empty apartment. I'm coming back," 

--------------------------------------

taglist: @thomaslefteyebrow @a-stray-soul @formulas-bitch @mickslover @myescapefromthislife @glow-ish @kittyfluffypaws28 @ryntro @copper-boom @allabouthappiness @jaydaaasworld @christianpulisic10 @lyraleclerc @daddyslittlevillain @dreamerrosie @driveswiftly13 @harrysdimple05 @sueesstuff @why4anne @nataliambc @cwiphswmwasohmm @buckybarnessweetheart @makingmyway-downtown @elijahslover @kapsylia 

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #formula one #f1 scenario #our boy series #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x yn #lando norris angst #lando norris fluff #lando norris fic #f1!poly #poly!f1 #charles imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc angst

[nvoirs]

Can you do a Leon smut where him and his gf have angry sex and afterwards they cuddle and apologize lol! I feel like it would be some steamy powerful sex right there.

Tried my best, sorry for the delay. 18+ content below!

You and Leon never fought. And when you did, it was always just bickering and light banter. But this time was different. You're full blown argument with him ended with him slamming the front door, leaving you in tears. Out of all days, it had to be on the same day he was leaving for an urgent mission located all the way in Spain, practically across the world. You couldn't even remember what the argument was about, that's how ridiculous this all was.

Staying holed up on Leon's side of the bed for majority of the days he was gone, inhaling the faint scent he left behind. That musky cologne he liked to wear. You'd got it for him as an anniversary gift a few years back, and he always made sure to wear it. Having no idea when he would come back, becoming worried sick and about to contact his workplace when you heard the creak of the front door opening.

It was slammed shut, the shuffling of boots could be heard past your bedroom door. You sat up straight not knowing what to do you grabbed the current book you were reading, lifting it to cover your red, blotchy face dry tears stuck to it. Leon was the one that did indeed walk into your shared bedroom, and he didn't even glance in your direction as he made his way to the bathroom.

Flabbergasted and kind of heartbroken you took a quick scan of his figure. He was dirty, cuts and bruises lined his arms and you would assume his torso and legs to. After cleaning himself up you heard him cuss mumbling something about ganandos? whatever that was, you were fed up with him ignoring you.

"Leon hey can we t-"

Hushing you, he placed a long, thin finger upon your cupids bow silencing you.

"We aren't talking about nothing yet, I'm just so fucking hungry for you It's killing me."

He leaned forward and fisted your shirt in his hands, scrunching the fabric harshly tugging your body towards him. His lips meeting yours in a steamy kiss, that had your legs turn to jelly. He growled animal like talking about how you were going to worship him tonight. Practically prodding your mouth open so he could stick his wet, warm tongue inside. Lips beginning to swell from the intense make out session, pulling back his forehead bumping against your own. Your lips still connected by a string of saliva he broke with the back of his hand.

Sticking a hand down your shorts, he pushed a finger past your panties and pinched your clit harshly. He had you rocking your hips, moaning, crying, pining for some sort of friction whether that being his thigh or his godsend fingers. Didn't even ask, just pulled down your shorts along with your panties all together leaving you a nasty wet mess for him to clean up.

After countless almost orgasms that were stopped my Leon edging the absolute shit of you. He left you a trembling, twitching mess, looking down upon you and meanly chuckled.

He had never been so mean, of course you'd had you're fair share of rough sex with him. But this time he seemed angrier, hotter and ready to have you a curled up used mess by the time he was done with you.

"You're going to take everything I give you, even if you become a cry baby I won't stop for ya."

His hands were wrapped around his shaft, positioning his tip covered in his pearly precum right on your clit pressing against it. Teasing you relentlessly, tipping you over the edge so you'd become a puny little blubbering mess. And you loved it, every second of this new side of Leon you'd never even merely witnessed. He had you clenching your thighs together, rubbing them trying to keep the wetness from seeping down the plush of them. He pried them open cooing softly about you being a needy whore before entering you without warning.

Crying out from the surprise of being so god damn full, you arched your back tummy sticking up giving Leon a perfect view of your tits and his bulging cock inside of you. He was so harsh with it, manhandling back into the position he wanted you in. Body glued to the mattress that felt like a steamy sauna right now, grabbing a hold of your calves almost stopping the blood circulation from how tight he was holding on propping your ankles on top of his broad shoulders.

He didn't stop, he didn't say his usual hey baby you ready? he just started to piston into you like no tomorrow. His thrusts were so rough, sliding out of you and slamming back in. He was touching the tip of your cervix at this point, your legs twitching every time he did. He was fucking you like he hated you, like he despised your very existence.

"Fuck Leon! to much I can't I ca-"

"Whores like you can handle this much I'm sure."

His words were ringing in your head, one of your legs slipping of his shoulder as he lifted the other to angle himself to push deeper into your heat. Cross eyed and drool dribbling down yourself, you looked like a fucked out mess. His balls were slapping against your ass roughly, making you squirm in his hold. He spanked your clit and had you yelping, warm tears dripping down your face as you clutched onto the white bedsheets. He bent down swiftly to lick at your salty tears, pressing a rough kiss to your eyelid.

You weren't exactly sure how many times you came, but you felt yourself reaching your high quicker than the last one looking down at your glistening legs covered in your slick. He wouldn't let you touch your clit, let alone rub it or circle it with your desperate fingers. You were being punished, and he groaned as he cut loose and came deep inside of you groping your ass as he dropped your legs onto the mattress.

Now he had you on the bed sideways, back pressed against his sweaty chest as he grabbed your jaw forcing you to look straight ahead taking you from behind. Penetrating your cunt so deeply he was hitting all those precious little spots of yours that had you mewling and sobbing his name between cries.

"Leon fuck you feel so ah.. good!"

You could sense that little smirk on his face as he thrusted even harsher telling you to shut the fuck up.

With his free hand that slithered to your front, squeezing and tweaking your hardened, sensitive nipples had you thrashing around.

"Can't get enough of my cock can you? Your slutty little body and this tight fucking pussy are all mine."

Your cunt clamped down on his cock at those words, his breathing heavier and your whines became shakier. You came hard around him, creaming around his cock and milking him tight. He filled you up just the way you liked it his groans heavenly in your ear, his mumbled curses as he licked the shell of your ear and smacked your ass before pulling out.

Both laying like that for what felt like forever, when Leon spoke up.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry I just left you without a goodbye and I'm just so sorry." He Buried his face in his hands, sighing to himself.

Getting up and facing him clutching his bicep, making him look at you, look at you with those pale blue eyes that held so much emotion.

"It's okay Leon, I forgive you.. but please talk to me if you're being bothered I love you, you know that?"

"I know that."

"So what did you do in Spain?"

"Well that's classified information, but I guess I could tell you after I've slept a whole day."

You both chuckled, leaving it at that.

Foreheads touching, fingers intertwined and just holding each other as close as humanly possible you both drifted of into each others dreams.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil 4 #resident evil smut #re4 leon #re4 remake #re4 leon smut

[authoreetea]

𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮

pairing ; rafe cameron x reader

summary ; rafe lost you

warning ; angst!!:( sorta feminine y/n

note! taylor swift inspired again 😛 she is my inspiration. I hope u likieee

I smoothed the skirt of my dress, and straightened my back. It was yet another night forgotten by my boyfriend, Rafe.

It was supposed to be our fifth anniversary. I prepared his favorite meals and wore his favorite black dress, but I can't say I'm surprised. Each year I felt our love fading. Despite all my efforts trying, trying to build it up again.

He just can't commit to me. I wanted to be a bride, and he's out there making his own name. Ever since his father died and left him, he took over the business, which did nothing to help our deteriorating relationship.

I stood up from my chair, the food in front of me was cold along with the untouched silverware that sat and waited an hour and half with me. Another meal, another dress, another day disregarded by him.

Cleaning it all up, I put the food in the fridge and started putting the plates away. Until I heard the door. He walks in with a tired look on his face, and his formal shirt unbuttoned.

He sighs deeply when he sees me putting dishes away. He sits down by the bar, his hand running through his hair until his face, he was obviously exhausted and so was I.

Somehow, Rafe Cameroon still managed to look good while tired and beat up from work. His blue eyes were a window to the blissful memories we had when we were young and in love. The once vibrant connection between you two began to unravel, threads of affection fraying under the weight of unspoken fears.

I stood in front of him, tired of all the times I stepped down and lowered my standards for him. "You forgot." I simply said, monotonously as I grabbed the bottle of whiskey from his hands and pulling it away from him.

He makes a frustrated face at the loss of his alcohol, just as he is confused. "Forgot what? I just need a drink, y/n." He said, his voice deep and weary.

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. "What day do think it is, asshole? Am I the only one to care for this damn relationship?"

He pulls his hand up to rub his temple. He lets out a groan, "It's just Wednesday... 16." Rafe's blue eyes widen as he realizes what is so significant in this day.

I let out a loud sigh, frustrated. I turned my back at him and walked out to our room. He groans again before following after me.

"Look baby, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to forget, I've just been so busy." He tries to resonate, with the same excuse all the time.

"Oh please, Rafe. The same damn excuse every single time, I'm so sick of it!" I said, incredibly upset at his antics.

"Please, baby. I'll make it up to you, whatever you want."

"You always say that! I want to be in a relationship where you don't need to make up for anything, Rafe! Don't you understand?" I cry out, tears starting to pool in my eyes.

"No, you don't understand! I am under so much pressure right now, y/n! And I need you to understand for now." He says, obviously irritated.

I look up at him, with my brows furrowed and my lips pouting.

"Really, for now? We've been playing around like this for a year, Rafe." I say, quieting down. I held onto myself as I felt dizzy, wanting to curl up into a ball and cry my feelings away, but this had to be done.

Rafe looks at me pointedly, about to say something but I beat him to it. "We... We've been through so much, my love. But it feels like we're slipping away, yet we're still at the same place we are five years into the relationship..." I took a deep breath, my voice wavering and tears softly pouring.

"Do you even see a future with me? Were you ever gonna propose to me, Rafe?" I ask softly, trying my best to cover the shakiness in my voice but failing.

"I'm sorry, y/n but you know that's not for me, especially right now with everything going on." He quietly says, His eyes were haunted and distant, actively avoiding mine.

What used to be lit with love and filled with joy, this room was bleak and the air was miserable.

I could feel my heart shattering. I smile at him sadly. "Three years, even before your father died, you've been saying that. Why can't you commit to me?" My voice was shaking, so were my hands. I was sounding desperate, my vision was blurred with tears and the lump in my throat kept forming into something bigger.

He takes a deep breath, walks towards me and cups my cheek, brushing the stray tears away with his thumb. "You know I'm not good at it, never have been." Rafe said, a painful admission of his own shortcomings. The realization hung in the air, heavy and suffocating.

I pull away from him, pushing him with my palm against his chest. "We can't keep drifting like this. I won't settle for uncertainty, Rafe."

"I'm sorry, y/n." He says, out of words to try to mend what is happening.

I let out a hollow chuckle, my eyes still pouring waterfalls. "I wouldn't marry me either, I guess. I just wanted you to see me again."

His eyes softened. "It's not like that, baby. I will marry you, just not now." He says, reaching for my hand.

I pull away. "If not now, Rafe, when? in another five years?" I say, desperate as I gasped for air.

"I mean, why not? If it means still ending up with you I would take the chance, y/n!" He says, his eyes wide and pleading.

I shake my head no, "Rafe, I can't. I cannot keep waiting for a commitment that may never come." I whispered, my heart breaking with every minute that passes.

He keeps muttering no. Rafe understands what this is leading to and it scares him. He looks at me begging, grabbing for my hand. "Y/n, please don't do this. I'll marry you right now, don't leave." He says, his eyes teary and his hair was messy.

I smile at him with tears in my eyes, "Not like this, Rafe. Maybe this is better for both of us." My voice was so quiet because If I was an pitch louder my heart couldn't handle it anymore.

Rafe's once lively blue eyes looked at me with regret, "I'm sorry, baby. please." he says, pleading and almost as desperate as I've been feeling.

I shake my head no, and for the last time, I turned and walked out.

And with that, the fragile fragments of our love slipped through our fingers, lost to the winds of uncertainty and the echoes of unfulfilled promises.

#obx #obx fanfiction #obx cast #obx fic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron ansgt #you're losing me #midnights #outer banks x you #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks x reader #outer banks #fanfiction #imagine #jj maybank #the pogues #pope heyward x reader #jj maybank x reader #john b x reader #john b routledge #kiara carrera #sarah cameron #angst #jj x reader #rafe obx

[luveline]

hiii, can you do something for aaron comforting pregnant!reader? just lots of comfort and softness (ily<3)

You thought you liked being pregnant. Aaron says you're as beautiful as you've ever been, and there's something comforting about the bump forming. The knowledge that you have a new love so close, maybe. 

But there's something off about it too. Your body isn't solely yours, or that's the way it feels, and though you'd never wish for the baby to be away from you before it's time, you'd like a break. He's a heavy weight to carry, your little Hotchner. He makes your back hurt, your legs ache. Your hands shake before breakfast every day and the morning sickness gets old.

The hormones are intense, too. All in all, you're overwhelmed. It affects everything you do. 

A dropped cup becomes something else. 

“You okay?” Aaron asks. 

You've broken a glass before, you've done it twice in his kitchen alone, but this time it's the last straw. You bend down to clean it up, realise you can't really bend, and then that you can't do it without gloves anyhow. “What am I doing?” you say, your voice dripping with disdain. 

“What are you doing?” Aaron asks, quieter now. “I'll do it. Sit down.” 

He doesn't speak without love. In fact, you'd say that the very infrastructure of his voice is imbued with affection, like every sentence could end in a pet name. 

“I can do it.” You shake your head. “I can't do anything. I'm useless, I'm–” worthless, you want to say. Completely worthless, nothing to give, hardly functioning, and now you can barely clean up after yourself. 

You squeeze your hands together and take a few steps back. Aaron meets your eyes unflinching, impossible to look away from as he follows you, closing the gap. 

“You're not useless. You're less agile than usual for good reason.” 

“I'm useless,” you repeat, self-hatred (not hatred, something different, more pitying, more shameful) thick on the tongue. 

“Honey. You're not useless.” 

“I am.” The first tear wells and races down your cheek within the same second. Your lip begins trembling. “I can't do anything anymore.” 

“You think so?” he asks gently. 

“I can't do it,” you say. 

Your voice breaks. Aaron doesn't need much more instruction, gathering you into his arms for a hug, the bump of your stomach no match for his height. “It's okay,” he says, again so gently, “it's okay.”  

“It's not.” You cry and it aches. You cry like a little kid, wildly out of control of your life. 

“It is, honey, it is. I know… it's not only a glass. You've been rearing up to this for a while.” 

You cry harder, wrists crossed around his back and your face rammed hard into his neck. It must hurt. You're trying to hide from the ache of your panic but there isn't anywhere to go —you're pregnant and you want to be, but you're trapped, too. 

“Aw, I don't know what's wrong with me,” you choke out, spluttering into his collar. 

He doesn't complain. “Nothing–” 

“I know it's not easy–” 

“–is wrong with you. Exactly. It's not easy.” He's calm in the face of your bleeding heart. “Honey, this is one of the hardest things a person can do, and that alone means you're the opposite of useless right now. You're making a big change, a sacrifice, to bring someone new into the world.” 

He pulls your face back from his neck with a kind hand. “Your baby doesn't think you're useless. I can tell you that for sure.” 

“I wish I could take a break,” you admit, shamefaced.”I'm such a bad mom already.” 

He doesn't agree. It's in the line of his mouth, the stillness of his gaze. Aaron takes your hand from his back and pulls it slowly to your stomach, flattening your fingers over the very apex of its hill, his own warm and large covering it surely. “You're not a bad mom, not even close. I don't think so, the baby doesn't think so.” He smiles. “Jack certainly doesn't think so.” 

You take a deep breath. “Really?” 

“Jack couldn't have asked for a better step mom, honey. Wanting a break from the side effects doesn't mean you don't love him, does it?” 

Him as in the baby, the heartbeat, the little head and arms and legs, the tiny brain. Wanting a break from your pregnancy and its constant barrage of symptoms doesn't make you a bad mom. 

“You aren't useless,” Aaron says, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “You're my partner, and you're his mother, and if you can't do some of the things you'd usually do right now, that's okay, because I'm here to do them for you.” 

That makes you cry more. Aaron drops his face to yours and presses your noses together, shushing your sobs. You, much less composed, grasp at the swell of your stomach. “Sorry,” you say in a weak whisper, hot all over and not sure how to cope. “I'm sorry, baby.” 

“You don't need to say sorry to him. He's the one at fault, anyway.” 

A laugh slips past your lips before you can think about it. “Don't say that.” 

“No?” Aaron pulls away, taking the fat of your arm into his hand. “I suppose it could be my fault. But it was your idea.” 

“No it wasn't.” 

“No, it wasn't,” he says, his fingers sliding a slow path down to your elbow, “but you do want this, don't you?”

“Of course I do.” 

Your quick answer makes him smile. He wipes your wet cheeks dry with an infinite carefulness, thumb trailing down the apple of your cheek to catch a last little tear. “Let me sit you down, sweetheart. I bet you feel even more tired than you did to begin with.” 

Pregnancy isn't always (or really often) fun, nor is crying your eyes out into the unfailing arms of your husband (though that had it's redeeming factors, mainly the smell of him, and the way he held you like he knew exactly how to make it all better), but you feel better for it, rather than worse as he's suggesting. Still, you soak up Aaron's quiet doting, a hand pressed to your baby bump as he kisses the side of your head. 

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

[mxqdii]

Can you do an angst to fluff with Chris plz? Where Chris has been on tour, reader is a singer/actress that's booked and busy and it's putting strain on their relationship because they almost never see each other in person. <33

unexpected visitor - c.s

pairings: chris sturniolo x reader

summary: chris is on tour and y/n is on set all the time, making no time for chris and y/n to see eachother

warning(s): angst, crying, fluff, hospitals, mentions of injury.

not proofread

"when will you be back in boston?" i ask chris, holding the phone up to my ear

i hear no response on the other end

"hello? chris?" i say, still nothing.

the call hangs up and i sigh, suddenly getting a text from chris

"sorry, bad service"

i groan, putting my phone down.

i've been on set all week, this was the only week chris was in boston before leaving for tour.

i can't help but let a few tears fall in frustration

i miss my boyfriend, so much.

but with both of our schedules not mixing, we literally never see eachother anymore.

suddenly i get a call from my manager.

clearing my throat, i answer.

"hello y/n! i just wanted to inform you that filming will be canceled for the rest of the week" she says and my eyes widen

"really? why??" i ask

"most of the cast has been getting sick, its been going around this week" she says with a slight laugh

"okay thank you! have a nice night" i say, hanging up.

i go to bed that night, planning on flying to see chris tomorrow.

i wake up the next morning not being able to breathe

i sit up frantically trying to clear my throat but failing

i look to my nightstand seeing a glass of water, taking a big gulp before letting out a gasp for air.

fuck, i'm sick.

my chest feels heavy and i feel nauseas, hot, and cold at the same time.

i try to stand but fail, falling to the floor

i try to speak but fail, whats happening to me?? why am i all of a sudden so sick??

the doorbell rings and i roll my eyes

i try to stand up to get it, but fail,

everything going black.

i wake up to the sound of beeping, trying to open my eyes adjusting to the brightness around me

i look around seeing myself in an unfamiliar room, where the fuck am i??

a nurse walks in and i try to speak but fail

"here sweetie, drink this" she says, handing me a glass of water

i clear my throat and sigh

"why am i in a hospital? who brought me here?" i ask

"you passed out, you're really sick and dehydrated. your friend alahna found you" she explains

i nod, grabbing my phone seeing like a hundred missed calls from chris

i call him back, the line ringing a few times before hanging up.

chris? chris call me back so i can explain please answer hello? chris helloooo?

i text him over and over, no response.

i bury my face in my hands, sobbing

maybe this isn't working.. we can never even reach eachother, i don't even know where he is.

i hear the door to my room open, assuming it's just the nurse

"hey, why are you crying love?" i hear and look up immediately

"chris.." i mumble, wide eyed

he walks up to me, wiping my tears with his thumb

"how did you- i-" i try to speak but just end up crying more

"it's okay, i'm here now thats all that matters" he says with a smile

"how did you know?" i croak out and he laughs

"alahna called me and i hopped on the first flight out" he replies

"i really missed you chris" i sniff

"i missed you too love, next show is in a week so until them i'm all yours" he reassures

"you promise?"

"i promise"

TAGLIST:

@strniolo @stargirlv0id @annaisabookwor

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo headcannons #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #fluff #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo fluff #christopher sturniolo #matt fanfic #nick sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #madispeaks!

[reticent-writer]

Blood demon art: Plants P1, P2, P3, P4, P5, P6, P7(current)

Poll results: Follow Akaza (Are you ready)

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

You took off running towards Akaza crying.

"Akaza wait, please wait I wanna go Home. I'm sorry I never run away again." You wailed as your skin started to burn.

You were fast but not fast enough to catch up to Akaza, luckily he heard you.

He turned around and ran to you, he was just about to pick you up when a sword went through his chest. He ignored it, grabbed you and ran.

Hanafuda was shouting. You didn't want to look back because you know you'll see Rengoku's body.

You just cried into Akaza's chest. That's all you could do. You cried until you fell asleep.

Akaza was livid not because of you, in fact he was glad you decided to come back, but because of Hanafuda. He had no other choice but to run, the sun was coming up, couldn't he see that?

"It's alright, I'm not mad at you." He said as he rubbed you back and continued on his way to the infinity castle. He knew you were asleep but it still felt good to say.

------

You woke up in your room, on your bed surrounded by a multitude of pillows. Everything was the same as when you left it, at first glance at least.

Slowly you got up and looked around.

It was like you were in another dream, nothing seemed real yet. Even though you didn't have much time with Rengoku he taught you a lot. He was the first human death that you experienced.

Walking around your room, you notice yourself in the mirror. You looked the same, but something was clearly different, you couldn't put your finger on it.

*knock knock knock*

"I know your up Y/n." Your father said as he opened the door. (A/n Why do parents knock if they're going to open the door without permission anyway)

"Father. I'm so so sorry. I'll never run away again, I promise." You ran to hug his legs but he didn't hug back.

"Y/n look at me."

Doing what he said you look up at him with tears forming in your eyes. He kneeled to your height.

"You cannot put yourself in harms way like that. I don't care what you wanted to see when you could've died. You will be by my side until further notice. Do you understand?"

You nodded.

"Good."

"Father, you were human once, why do you want to kill them?"

He didn't answer your question and instead, he gestured for you to follow. Which you did.

On the way to wherever you were going, he talked.

"You can die just by standing out in the sun. Humans are weak, they get sick, grow old, and die they barely live for century while we can live forever. I get that you're curious, but we are not completely immortal. YOU are not immortal; as my child, your safety is my top priority."

You stared at his back while he talked. It was normal for you to receive this kind of lecture from him.

Normally you would tune him in out of annoyance but this time you listened or at least until you caught something out of the corner of your eye.

Looking over you see a blonde blur getting bigger. You almost didn't realize that it was getting closer to you.

Your father sighed, "Douma don't-"

"Y/N-SAN YOU'RE BACK." Douma smushed you in his arms, rubbing his cheek against the top of your head.

"Hi Douma" you say, hugging him back.

He picked you up and twirled you around while your father pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

These demons were going to be the death of him.

-------

Akaza was on his way out when he saw you, douma and Muzan. Muzan had not yet given him a punishment for letting you get injured. It left the basketball demon waiting in anticipation.

He was terrified.

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

Tag list: @american-idiot21, @unhappy-filling, @lenasvoid, @abbylouamanda, @tempest1art, @abandonedhhearts, @muichirolover

Might or might not do an AU where reader stays with demon slayers

#male reader #female reader #gn reader #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #child reader #x child reader #demon slayer x child reader #kny x child reader #demon reader #reticent writes #reticent writer

[ronearoundblindly]

Ari- Baby is sick for the first time

Ari Levinson x best friend!reader (now fiancé)

New Parent Panic, a Bedrock and Blueprints tale

Warnings for protective!Ari, Ari not communicating, you doing the same, and then everyone gets their shit together and it's fluff. WC 2k *Off in the distance an ol' timey man pops up: "An argument, you say? You wrote an argument?? How different from your usual!!" Ha-ha. Yeah. We get it. Ro's the same hoe as last year... **I am not a mother. I know what would reasonably be categorized as zilch about babies. I have, however, seen this overwhelmed and guilty behavior from several of my peeps as they raise their youngins, so that's good enough for me. You're doing fine. I promise.

Sure, there was the rather severe diaper rash incident, and the time when nursing her turned your nipples into raw portals for a newly-discovered circle of hell, but nothing could have prepared you for this day.

Rachel was...meh this morning when Ari left for work. A little whiny, not sleeping well, but she's an infant; that's not new. Overall, she's actually been a very straight-forward baby.

And then you don't know what happened.

You napped very hard until noon (after only a moderately successful feeding) and by then Rach had a fever.

You called the nurses' hotline. You gave her the dose of baby meds. You're trying to keep her hydrated, at least, if she can't be happy right now. You just have to stay vigilant and wait it out.

But that's not easy.

She's crying and won't sleep, she'll barely eat, and you don't have a separate car. You only want to call Ari if it's to say "we need to take her to a doctor." You're not there yet.

So you do the shittiest feeling thing you can think of, the most painful thing, and you wait.

You don't sleep. You barely eat. You take Rachel's temperature like you are monitoring the possible meltdown of a nuclear reactor. One wiggle of a degree in the wrong direction, and that Bat Signal is going on.

I can do this, you tell yourself. I've wanted to be a mom for a long time, so I can do this.

Except you don't sleep and barely eat.

Ari arrives home precisely when he said he would, the exact number of minutes (after work shuts down for the day) that it takes to drive to the house, predictable, dependable, and utterly useless when he opens the door and asks "why is she crying?"

"Because she hates me," you blubber, holding her to your chest, arms cramped from cradling her for so many hours at this point.

"She need meds?"

Of course, I gave her the fucking meds.

"Hungry?"

No, asshole, I purposefully starved your fucking child for my own amusement.

"Calm down," Ari snips back. "I'm just trying to help."

Well then fucking help me!

By now, you likely look as if you're in a war zone: disheveled, manic, and possibly--definitely--hostile.

"Okay, okay, let me just take a piss and then I'll hold her."

"Yeah, of course. Whatever you want. Whatever you need." You turn your back to him before grumbling, "not like I haven't had to hold it all afternoon..."

Ari's still-booted feet land heavily beside you again. "Then I'll take her now," he grits through clenched teeth, "and you can use the bathroom."

"No. I already have her."

"Fine. I'll be right back."

"Take your time."

The way you lace the words with a sickly sweet melody has Ari spinning on a heel and staring at you through his long eyelashes, a tick in his jaw stopping him from saying something he might regret.

"Kid," he finally sighs, "just tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it."

He runs a hand over his beard while he waits for your answer. A few seconds later, his hip juts out, arms akimbo, and he bites his bottom lip expectantly.

You just walk off toward your phone on the kitchen counter and call the nurse hotline back.

"I swear, woman," he mutters as you leave, but you're glad he can't hear you sniffle back a sob.

It should be reassuring that the nurse has no new advice for what to do. You're doing everything correctly. You're doing all you can. Don't worry. Keep checking her temp and giving her whatever fluids she'll take. That's all for now.

It doesn't feel like enough. It doesn't feel like all a mother can do.

Ari? Ari waltzes up to the fridge and cracks himself open a beer.

You don't even have words, only flaming hot vibes that will melt his face like a Spielberg movie--you have got to stop watching movie marathons during late-night breast-feeding--if you stare hard enough at his casual blue gaze.

"So," he begins, "you figure out what I gotta do?"

What had been steady whimpering from Rachel has amplified into wails that bring tears to both hers and your eyes.

They just fall down your cheeks, and you wipe them from your chin before they can fall onto your screaming child.

Ari's judging frown makes your stomach turn while he steps closer, bends at the knees, and takes his little girl in hand.

Less than a minute later, Rachel stops, and you just cannot fucking handle it. The only quiet moment you've had in six and a half hours he gets to enjoy moments after coming home.

That's not fair. Cure fucking cancer already, Levinson, and save us the goddamn grief!

The tears and the tired are choking you.

Ari tells you to go freshen up in the bathroom, but that is the most horribly wrong way to say anything to you, ever, in a moment like this.

You stomp out the front door, rip open the sliding back door of the SUV, and crawl onto the cab floor. Once the latch clicks behind you, face buried in the blanket kept on Rachel's car seat, you scream.

You whimper and you cry and you get your fucking time to be angry at all your feelings today because it's bullshit.

You didn't take your own temperature. You didn't get rest and drink plenty of fluids. You didn't take any medicine. All you keep going over in your mind is whether or not you were sick first. Did you have something you gave to your daughter? Is this your fault?

So the tears and the choking continue for...as long as they take.

You don't know how much time has passed before the car door is yanked open again. Thank the stars you are facing away. You can't look at Ari right now.

"Is she okay?" you ask with a watery voice.

His big, warm hand rubs across your back, making you sink further into the upholstery.

"Took a few ounces of a bottle and went down in her bunk."

Ari likes to call Rachel a part of his 'squad,' so he talks to your infant daughter like they're going on 'missions' to the store or getting a bottle from the 'mess.' Your bedroom has thus become the 'barracks.'

Sometimes, he holds her sitting up against his chest and uses her feet to 'march' the pair of them across the house.

Left. Left. Left right left.

And almost always, there's a giggle, too.

"Up you go, kid," Ari huffs, maneuvering you into his arms.

"No," you whine, so tired you can't tell what it is you don't want.

He just keeps saying, "I know. I know," until he's carried you inside.

Instead of taking you to the couch or the bed, Ari sits you both down in the front hall, balancing you on his lap while he loosens his boot laces and finally kicks the sturdy shoes off, placing them on the mat a couple feet away.

He presses his lips to your temple, rough beard gently scrubbing over your eyelid and cheek.

"How many times I gotta tell ya to call me?" he whispers. He doesn't expect to have this same argument again, not like this, but his point still stands. "You know, you're warm, too."

If it's another question, you don't answer that either. You change the subject.

"Did you take her temp?"

He nods, and the number he tells you is the same as it was thirty minutes ago, or rather, thirty minutes before he came home.

Ari squeezes you tighter. "You want to get into bed, and I'll bring your some juice and meds, huh? Meet you in there?"

"I'm a bad mom," you breathe.

"What?" He pulls away, smacking his head on the wall behind him. "What are you talking about?"

How are there more tears left in your body? You should be nothing but a shriveled husk at this rate.

"Bullshit," he practically seethes. "Don't you ever say that again."

"I shouldn't have--"

"Stop."

"--you were--"

"Stop it," he blurts, firm and serious.

"But I'm the one who wanted this, Ari!" Your most powerful voice only comes out as high whisper. "Me. I wanted kids. This whole time. I bitched about how Joanna's done, and I thought I could just--" you swing an arm out dramatically "--and I suck at it. Rach even likes you better!"

"No, kid. She was exhausted. I only got here at the right time."

"It's 'cause your comfy and you smell good--"

"--not sure about that--"

"--and she loves you," you bemoan.

Ari snorts out a laugh.

"She loves you, too. You're her mom." He tucks you in closer, soothing you with petting hands wherever he can reach. "I love you. So much. So, so much."

He finds your hand and the sapphire ring he put on it, spinning it gently on your finger. He hasn't gotten to make good on his promise. Planning a wedding, even a small one, with a newborn is almost impossible, but that seems to be part of the problem.

Anything to do with you or you two feels selfish when there's three. Guilt grips you when you stop to daydream about your big day because it's not about Rachel. She's the most important thing. She will trump you forever as the single most--

"Can I tell you a secret?" Ari's timbre rattles close to your ear. "You're my favorite."

You slump into his chest until your forehead braces his throat.

"Almost not fair, really," he drawls. "You've got a decade of brownie points, and she's managed to make me buy more pads for her than I've had to for y--"

You pinch at his side harshly, biting back a smile, the salt from dried tears on your lips flooding your mouth.

"Oh! And you can control your bladder for a whole day, which is downright impressive wh--hey now--" Ari scuttles on the floor to evade your attack on his ribs. "I'm just...being...honest," he chuckles.

"You're a jerk is what you are, old man."

He easily grabs both your arms and pins them together in front of him.

"Yeah, but I'm your jerk. Your old man, kid. I'm yours, okay? You are not alone here. You don't have to know how to do everything by yourself." He lowers his voice as well as his face to yours. "And you mean just as much to me as that little girl in there. You hear me?"

There's a different lump of emotion lodged deep in your chest. You only nod because you can't speak.

He makes your foreheads meet.

"Please be okay. I could never do this without you. Any of it..."

That's when you realize what bothers you so much: Ari should need you to raise Rachel, but you never truly acknowledged you might need him to raise her, too.

This enormous weight of clutching every thread of life in your own two hands isn't real. You can share. You are meant to share your life with Ari. Ari is meant to share his life with you. Rachel shares life with you both, as she is meant to share with everyone around her. It's a lesson she has the opportunity to learn a lot younger than you, apparently.

He gets you to drink a whole bottle of water. He brings you some food and medicine while he handles some laundry and cleans out the day's bottles. He leads you with both hands to the bathroom, finally, and then gets you settled in bed.

As you fall asleep, you watch Ari take Rach's temperature again.

He lets out a silent cheer and holds his hand over her.

"High five?" he whispers. "No? It's fine. We'll work on that."

The last thing you see is Ari playfully lifting her from the basinet, sneaking out to the living room to enjoy a movie marathon, just for a little bit, snuggling together while he winds down for the night.

All that matters is she's safe and happy.

That, and of course, waking up in Ari's arms, listening to his slow breathing and Rachel's faster, baby huffs. You can handle anything because you made it through today and you have them.

[Ari's POV for this day]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @late-to-the-party-81 @rogersbarber @yenzys-lucky-charm

#bedrock and blueprints #ro answers #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson angst #ari levinson fluff

[skinnypaleangryperson]

My heart is broken over this gray world and this life dedicated to slavery by selfish people who are just playing sheep differently taking control of me and paying me so little that I can't even have a decent personal life to make up for crushed creative dreams. I hurt myself with my own imagination and how vivid it is, the TV shows that I would have liked to work on an extended with my passion and ideas, the artistry the lights, the emotion the storytelling, the storyboards and the artistic lighting that I work on every day simply because it's all that makes sense to me. These images, thoughts, storytelling, emotions, everything where I pour all of my desperation of what I wish the humanity and connection that my life would have into a couple of iPad drawings every day in the corner of an empty bedroom.

It comes across as melodramatic posting about it online, but if you were to live a day in my life with having nothing except for my raw isolated imagination in such a repetitive, soulless, compassionless gray world, where I have no connection to anyone anymore, and no one that I can share anything with and convinced I will never have a true friendship or relationship with anyone outside of baseline tolerance at best again, on top of failed motherhood and a failed creative career, you would be crying out on the internet every second you got the chance to. I haven't wanted to live this life for the longest time that I could remember, and I will never want to again. In a sense, thank God nobody cares and that I can just post about it at whatever whim that I want throughout the miserable day, because this is the only place left where I can still feel somewhat human, and where I can just be as unashamedly detailed about every single depressed and morbidly despairing thought, share some of my work, even if it's only to myself just to prove that it even exists outside of my own sick corner of the world, and generally to feel seen for a little while, Even if only by myself, which is what me and the majority of people in working class America have, with no way out, because we're not "special", And if you have an artistic vision it will break your heart more than anything else.

I especially love this scene that I came up with it during my on maladaptive daydreaming lately with my family with BoJack and Samantha and Harper. The storylines that I come up with his family and with our girls are always incredibly vivid every single day and they both still simultaneously break my heart, because I know that the vision that I share in the passion that I have and my want to share in storytelling will only ever be an ongoing sickly headspace in the back of my head while the gray reality of a life that has long since over if it ever began goes on around me without change. The beauty of the family life that I wanted to have on top of the creative dreams that I have that has projected itself into the muddled mental disorder of maladaptive daydreaming of my beautiful family with Bojack both is the only thing that keeps me going throughout the empty slave hours of my life, which is so lonely that most people I'm convinced would not be able to live it, well at the same time fills me with such a beauty and meaning taking it in that I couldn't ever let it go.

#bojack #maladaptive daydreaming #🫡 #Lost my mind #I mostly just use social media to grieve these days while I continue to live the graveyard of my life in reality #My life failed beyond comprehension in every possible way