#blubbering weeping sobbing like a baby

[darlingjmiller]

“I won’t have peace. I’ll be worried about you all the time.”

“That’s just love.”

[rintoki]

kaveh

[livwritesstuff]

When Steve returns with Hazel from one of her evening dance classes, Hazel is crying.

Eddie hears it from all the way upstairs and she’s still crying when Eddie makes his way down to greet them and sees that Steve is balancing her on one arm as she sobs into the collar of his t-shirt, her little dance bag slung over his other shoulder.

Steve looks like he’s trying very hard to ignore Hazel’s ongoing weeping, which probably means that whatever she’s upset about isn’t exactly a new issue.

“Hazel!” Eddie exclaims, lifting her chin off of Steve’s shoulder so he can get a look at her face, “What’s wrong, baby?”

Hazel doesn’t manage to get out much more than, “Papa didn’t –” before she devolves into blubbering tears again.

“Papa?” Eddie repeats as he pulls Hazel into his arms, “What’d Papa do to my Hazy-Jay that's making her so upset?”

He says it all dramatic and grandiose because it usually makes Hazel laugh. Not today though, and Steve fixes him with a look that says please don’t make this worse than it already is, so…a swing and a miss on all fronts.

Oh well.

“What the hell happened?” he tried again, directing the question at Steve this time (and in his normal voice).

“Uh,” Steve starts, “Yeah, she’s all kinds of mad at me because I didn’t pull over and stop traffic on a highway off-ramp to let a family of ducks cross over to the reservoir.

Eddie blinked.

Okay, so maybe he can sort of understand Steve’s dilemma.

Hazel has always loved animals, but ever since she was tall enough to see out the windshield, she’d become somewhat of a wildlife protection sergeant in the way her eyes were always peeled for little (and not-so-little) critters that could be in need of assistance. It��s not like Eddie hadn’t been braking for animals before, but if there was a turtle on the side of the road, he probably just carefully detoured around it.

Not anymore.

Now they’re pulling over on the side of the road and helping it get across safely, which is fine, obviously. It’s just not always possible, like on the highway at seven o’clock at night.

Their four-and-a-half-year-old daughter might not be able to see the nuance there quite yet.

“So are they…” Eddie trailed off.

“Let’s change the subject, please.”

[anonsturniolo]

Brattamer!matt x fem!reader headcannons ✧₊⁺

♡ྀི brattamer!matt who isn’t afraid to put you in your place, anytime, anywhere. You cop an attitude in the mall while he’s paying for your stuff? You’re in the family bathroom bent over his lap tears filling your waterline.

♡ྀི brattamer!matt who withholds attention from you until you’re a blubbering sobbing mess.

“Matt!” You cry, hot tears streaming down your cheeks. You tug on his arm, lifting a hand to his face when that doesn’t work. You turn his head so he has no choice but to look at you, “I-I’m s-sorry.” You hiccup through your tears, but Matt just looks at you.

Your frown deepens at getting no reaction from him, “P-please talk t-to me.” You whimper, grabbing his hand and holding it to your face, seeking comfort.

He waits a few minutes to let you let out a few more sobs, “You gonna be a good girl f’me?” He rasps, a small grin on his lips as your eyes shoot open and you begin to rapidly nod your head.

“I-I’ll do a-anything!” You desperately cry, shifting to sit on your knees on the bed next to him.

He rolls his shoulders, his dark and menacing gaze fixated on you, “Get on my knees.”

♡ྀི brattamer!matt who is very possessive over you. He doesn’t let you go more than 5 feet away from him when the two of you are out, sending glares at any man that looks at you for even a split second. You don’t think this is controlling though, he just wants to keep what’s his safe.

♡ྀི brattamer!matt who mixes praises with degrading phrases within the bedroom.

“Doing so good f’me.” He groans, watching his fingers thrust into your weeping entrance. Your hips buck as he slows his pace, pressing a hand to your hip to keep you flat on the bed.

“Trying to fuck my fingers into you faster? You’re such a slut.” Tears well in your eyes, but your pussy clenches around his fingers at his vulgar words. “Mhm, your pussy belongs to me.”

♡ྀི brattamer!matt who loves to overstimulate you, see how many orgasms he can give you until you’re using your safe word. The record so far is 9.

♡ྀི brattamer!matt who can give you a look that has you clenching your thighs and blushing heavily at the thought of what’s to come once you two get home.

♡ྀི brattamer!matt who fingers you at dinner with his friends because he thought you were being too friendly with the waiter.

“Matt.” You quietly mumble, doing your best to speak normally as his fingers stretch you out underneath the table.

Matt kisses his teeth, “This is what you wanted, remember?” He angrily spits at you, keeping his voice low. His thumb brushes your clit and your hips rock against his hand pathetically. “Shoulda kept your damn mouth shut.”

♡ྀི brattamer!matt who’s excellent at aftercare. He knows to baby you for a while after a rather heavy session in the bedroom. He never wants you to feel like he doesn’t love you to pieces. Matt always runs you a bath, sitting in the tub with you while he washes your hair and body. He dresses you and puts your hair in braids as usually do so yourself when you wash your hair before bed. He’s always mumbling praises and sweet things in your ears until you drift off.

♡ྀི brattamer!matt who goes absolutely off the walls insane when you surprise him with a tattoo on your ass.

“Close your eyes!” You giggle excitedly, and Matt does exactly that. You had snuck out of his room early this morning, and turned off your location to go to the tattoo shop 15 minutes away from his house.

He was livid when he woke up to you being gone and your location turned off.

“This better fucking be worth the punishment you’re about to get.” He grumbles from the edge of the bed, his hands resting on his knees. You roll your eyes while his are closed, knowing you’d get in even more trouble if he saw you do it.

You turn around so your back is to him, lifting up your tennis skirt on one side. You twist your back to peer down at it, admiring the tiny ‘M’ written in cursive.

“Open.” You slyly speak, watching his face. His eyes peel open, and immediately go to your ass. His jaw drops open in shock, his hands immediately going to your soft flesh of your back side.

“Are you serious?” He asks, a little too calmly for your liking.

“Mhm.” You hum, watching as he leans closer for a better look. His fingers gently brush over the tender skin, and you can’t help but think the pain feels so good.

“On all fours.” He finally groans, and once he stands you’re surprised to see the tent that grew in his pants. Let’s just say you beat your record.

brattamer!matt who secretly loves missionary because that means he gets to watch your face while he absolutely ruins you.

[sports-on-sundays]

It kills me to see all the requested: nope! In your fanfics

How about, reader struggles to sleep due to the stress of her work & travelling so he comforts her and helps her sleep? I’ll take any f1 driver or barca player.

help me sleep / Pedri González

Summary: Pedri x girlfriend!reader

Warnings: censored cussing, sobbing, work problems, stress, anxiety

Requested?: YEs! yEs!!!!! YES, MATE, IT IS REQUESTED!!!!

Author's Note: First request, baby!!! I love you so much bestie! <3 I'm so happy you saw my subtle-not-subtle begs for requests 😭!!! And I hope it's okay I chose Pedri; the other day I was having major I-Miss-Pedri syndrome that we've all been having for the past however many months (I don't even want to think about how long it has been) so I decided as a tribute to my boy, the first request on my blog should be him.

I say 'tribute' as if he's dead or something 😭

I feel like I'm acting way too excited about this request for it to be normal, but that's okay! I'm happy, and I owe it all to you! Now, let's get into this-

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock went the clock on the wall. That stupid old clock that wasn't even set to the right time. You sat on the living room couch, at 2:34 A.M., dealing with work sh*t.

You walked in this evening, feeling ready to literally collapse, and was greeted by your boyfriend as the welcoming committee. It was sweet. He had bought you your favorite treat and flowers and everything and let you snack on it. Had a little snuggle with you. And the moment you stood up, telling him you had to unpack from your long work trip, he pulled you back down on the couch. "No way," he had said. "You're tired. Your bags can wait 'til tomorrow. For now, just relax."

And he really had convinced you. He really had. Soon after that, you had gone to your bedroom and gotten snuggled in together, and within minutes, you were fast asleep.

Only to wake up three hours later. You stared at the ceiling for a solid fifteen minutes, unable to fall back asleep as the stress of work and everything you hadn't gotten done and needed to get done crushed you.

Realizing there was no chance of you falling back to sleep now, you slipped out of bed as slowly as you could, as to not wake up your boyfriend, and quietly walked (or rather, stumbled, because of the extreme lack of sleep) to the living room.

And so now you sit on the couch, barely alive, feeling like a lump on a log but on steroids, dealing with work sh*t.

Suddenly, you get a message from one of your co-workers, though. Bad news... You click on it, and in the moment, with everything you've already gone through within the last seventy-two hours, this is enough.

You swallow, your phone slipping out of your hands. I'm trying so hard. How could my job be on the line? Your head falls into your hands, and you let out a angry groan, letting out quick, little breaths.

God, I can't do this. I can't do this anymore. I need help. Please, I need help. I just can't keep doing this any longer. I can't do this anymore.

Your eyes well up, and that turns into a tear. And that tear turns into another one. And those tears turn into crying. And crying into weeping. Tired, pathetic, pitiful weeping, until you're flat-out sobbing, unable to control it. The world spins as another glowing text comes in on your phone on the rug and your laptop shows more emails and the bags in the corner of the room are still full of your things from the work trip and and and and and...

Suddenly, strong, warm arms around your trembling body. You lean into your boyfriend's body, blubbering between gasps, "Pedri you weren't supposed to wake up... I know you're going through a lot too... I don't want to stress you out... I'm sorry..."

"Shhh," he soothes, rubbing your back. "Do you really think you're on your own? My love, we help and love each other. You can be vulnerable. I know it's hard. Don't you think for a second that I don't want to help you."

"This isn't your problem..."

"Your problem is my problem, because I love you," he mutters close to your ear. He gently closes your laptop and powers off your phone. "You don't need to worry about that right now."

"Pedri-" You grip his shirt, looking at him slightly manically. "Yes I do. I could lose my job."

His jaw tightens, but he says, "What you're doing is impossible. If you lose your job because it's too hard, then maybe you shouldn't be in this job. And it's not because you're a failure. It's because you're expected to do much more than anyone should be able to handle. If you lose your job, I'll be the first to support you until you can get a new one. Okay? But we don't even need to worry about that right now, okay?"

"But-"

Suddenly he takes your wet, tear-stained cheeks in his hands, and looks at you earnestly right in the eyes. "But right now, you need to calm down. Come on; why don't we go to the bedroom, okay?"

"Uh- y- yeah," you get up, feeling terrible at how much a mess you are. Pedri walks to the bedroom with you, his arm around your shoulders the whole time. He fetches a damp rag and gently wipes your face with the cool towel. You shut your eyes, letting out a shaky breath as Pedri pulls the blanket up to your torso. You lean back, sitting upright on the blanket.

"Can I get anything for you?" he asks after he finishes, taking your hand gently.

You shake your head 'no'. "Just sit down. All I need is you."

He nods and slips onto the bed and under the blanket next to you. Straight away, you lean your head on his shoulder and clutch his hand in yours. "Y/n, you know that it'll be okay," he murmurs. Not even a question. A fact. You know that you'll be okay.

"But Pedri, what if..."

"No 'what if's right now, okay?" He pulls you closer to you, rubbing your shoulders. You sit quietly together for a while, before Pedri slowly sinks into a laying down position, pulling you down with him. You snuggle close to him, resting your head on his chest. When you yawn, he says, "You're tired. Anything I can do to help you sleep?"

You breathe gently. "Just... talk to me."

He nods and starts whispering. At first, you listen to the sweet little things he's saying as he gently strokes your hair, but soon you're too tired to comprehend them. Soon your eyes are fluttering shut, and your mind is switching from daytime thoughts to nighttime dreaming.

Within your dream, you feel a soft kiss on your forehead and Pedri's perfect sweet-as-honey voice murmur, "Buenas noches, mi amor."

[tomasweetheart]

I'VE LOVED EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU THAT HURTS

matsukawa issei x m!reader (pronouns aren't mentioned but the intention is still there), established relationship

warnings: angst, really poor body image on mattsuns part including negative mentions of weight, hurt/comfort, cussing, use of pet names (baby, honey, pretty boy), matsukawa is referred to as mattsun and issei, the friends mentioned are not the seijoh four

notes: i projected a bit oops

mattsun had lost track of time. all he knew was that the light illuminating from his laptop hurt his bloodshot eyes, and if the soft sounds from it weren't the only thing keeping him sane, he would slam it shut in a heartbeat.

he doesn't know how he ended up in this position, really. he's not typically a sensitive guy, he's normally nonchalant, laid back. he walks the world like nothing can hurt him.

but then he thinks about what his friends said.

it was playful, at first. little jabs at his personality that he could rebuttal with ease. teasing them about their flaws, adamant on avoiding striking any nerves.

he just wished they would be as careful as him.

what got to him first, was the mention of his eyebrows. how they were too thick, that they didn't match his face.

which then led to the conversation about his jawline, how it was too triangular, too uneven.

and even though those comments hurt, he took them and bit his tongue. for his own sake. just shake it off, he thought, they're just joking stop being such a fucking baby

it was fine, really.

until they started talking about his weight. how he was too skinny, too tall, too boney. how almost nauseating it was that they could see how his ribs poked through his skin.

yeah, that's what got him.

from practice to home was a blur to him, but he remembers how he stormed to his room. how he sat in his own silence for a moment or so, before his body racked with violent sobs.

he cried. he cried until there was no more air in his lungs, until the sobs got caught in his throat. he gripped his hair and broke down for what felt like an eternity.

and even now, hours later, the thought of everything that happened makes him want to start sobbing again.

but he can't. the lump in his throat sticks there, not daring to move.

he really thinks he's fucking pathetic. to let such words get to him, he knows he shouldn't care. he knows they meant no harm. he knows they were just jokes. he knows he's not that bad looking.

right?

well, he guesses there must be some truth to their words if they poked and prodded at it. he guesses there's some truth if he's allowing himself to be this affected by it.

he doesn't hear you softly open the door to his bedroom.

you had grown worried, you tried to contact him over dozens of times within the past few hours, only to be left on delivered.

at first you were mad, you figured he was just ignoring you for makki or something unimportant, but once oikawa had told you that issei had left the gym in a sulk, you had just grown to be worried.

you slowly made your way towards him, the soft blue glow of his laptop being the only source of light in the room.

when you tripped over his sneakers is when he finally noticed you.

slowly, he turned from his laptop to face you. the cacoon of his blanket covering most of him. that's when you finally got a good look at his face.

his eyes were bloodshot, and his tears from earlier left stains of trails down his cheeks. the dried snot under his nose, his tussled hair and cracked lips showing his distress.

god, you swear, even like this he looks so beautiful.

"issei, baby, what's wrong?" you question, crouching down next to his bed. you reach your hand out, lightly stroking his face.

tears slowly begin to fall from his eyes again. you wipe them away gently with his thumbs.

the gesture alone sends him into another fit of sobs, you wrap your arms around him, rubbing circles on his back as you let him weep into the crook of your neck.

"i can't fucking . . . i'm so pathetic i'm sorry . . ." he blubbers, god he can't believe himself right now.

"nonono baby you aren't pathetic, you're allowed to cry. you're allowed to be upset," you reassure him, "take your time. i'm not going anywhere."

you two stay like that for a few minutes, issei composes himself the best to his ability, before sitting up and letting what happened fall from his lips in a hurry.

your face contorts in anger as he continues, not with him, of course. you couldn't believe what he was saying, what kind of friends were these people?

once he finished, you allowed yourself to speak.

"issei," you began, "what they said about you was absolutely ridiculous."

at first he's taken aback by your words, but then you continue,

"you are one of the most gorgeous boys i have ever laid my eyes on," you said, "your eyebrows aren't too thick, they fit your face perfectly. your jawline is perfect too, and even if it is asymmetrical, most peoples are. it's not uncommon and it certainly does not make you ugly."

you take a deep breath, cupping his hands in yours. giving him a reassuring squeeze before picking up again once more,

"and as for your weight," you began, "i just . . . the fact that they even felt the need to comment on that disgusts me. there is nothing wrong with your weight, as long as you are healthy that's all that matters. whether you be on the bigger or smaller side, as long as you are healthy that's all that should matter. ever. don't listen to the utter bullshit they spew because it's not true. you're a beautiful boy, you're my beautiful boy."

he starts crying again, but this time out of a warm feeling bursting in his chest. he pulls you in for a tight embrace, and you squeeze him just as hard.

"i love you so much." are the only words he's able to mutter before he falls asleep on your shoulders.

you then softly close the lid to his laptop, crawling under the covers with him and placing a kiss on his forehead.

sleep well, pretty boy. is all you can think before drifting off yourself

a/n: i just want to remind you guys that you are beautiful no matter what and you deserve good things. likes, reblogs & comments are appreciated!

[planetharrie]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Waiting from Home

In which Harry comforts Lucille after she finds out some terrible news about her sister.

Warnings: Contains very slight mentions of vomiting.

⭐️

When Harry received a dazed call from his girlfriend in the early evening, (barely) explaining she was in hospital, he all but pounced from the sofa he was sunken on.

He’d messaged Lucille just after 7 P.M that night, wondering about her whereabouts,

‘Hey, where are you? Dinners ready :) x’ was his message and he balanced his phone on his thigh, Lucille’s contact open so that he could read her message when it came through. Her iMessage bubble popped up, Harry watched the three little dots fade in and out as she typed before they disappeared all together.

He frowned and picked up his phone, ready type a second message to prompt her to reply, when a banner notification popped down. Lucille ICE read the caller ID and Harry’s thumb automatically pressed accept.

“Hullo, Lovie. Is everything oka—” Harry was interrupted with a sniffle and muffled sob, “Luce? Wha-What’s wrong? Talk to me—”

“Harry—”

“Yeah, Baby. ‘M here, are you alright?” Harry sat up and leant his elbows atop his knees and clutched the phone tight to his right ear. He was met with broken sentences and blubber as his girlfriend attempted to explain the situation from the other end of the receiver.

Usually, Harry would have the patience to allow others to cry and calm down a little before speaking, but in this case, he was so concerned he was getting slightly frustrated with the incoherent responses.

“Lucille, Love, I’m here. Just try and explain—”

“Hospital—I’m i-in the hospital.” Lucille muffled another sob before sucking in a deep breath, “Harry, I��”

Harry was on his feet in an instance, his left hand frantically feeling his joggers’ pockets for his keys. “Fuck, Luce. Do you need me? I-I’m coming, Love—”

“No! No, i-it’s okay. I’m in the,” she took in a shaky breath, her speakers going distorted for a second. “I’m in the waiting room. It’s Sam.”

Harry slowed down, his hand hovering over the front door handle. “Sam? As in your sister, Sam?”

“Yeah! Oh god.” Lucille’s voice broke, seemingly still in shock that it’s her own sister that’s in A&E; she honestly hadn’t processed it until Harry had asked. She began weeping again and Harry’s heart shattered. His eyes trail up to the ceiling as he blinks back his own sympathy tears and swallowed the anxious burn at the back of his throat. He sucked in a short breath and lowered himself to sit on one of the bottom stairs; he had to stay calm, collected and supportive for Lucille.

He found it almost challenging to hold back his own flurry of tears; hearing his wife sob through a speaker, alone in a cold and bare room alone was fucking torture. Knowing he couldn’t simply scoop her up, hold her, kiss her head, whisper caring and comforting words into her hair. Knowing he couldn’t make her feel safe at that very moment made him feel sick. And not only that, but his sister-in-law was also in a bad way; he didn’t know any details but Sam was very important to him too. They were close, basically like biological siblings. She was important to Lucille so she was vital to Harry.

“Alright, Baby, it’s alright. . . just take a deep breath for me,” Harry listened to her regulate a couple of breaths before coughing and a taking some more. “That’s it, Luce, well done. You’re going to be okay. .”

She hummed into the mic and sniffed.

“Now, do you need me to come down to St John’s? Is that where you are?”

Lucille began nodding but quickly realised Harry couldn’t see her. Now she felt stupid. Her emotions were high and beyond regulated and her face crumpled with tears streaming again. She couldn’t focus on a thing, and after not replying to Harry for a good 20 seconds, she got spooked when he spoke again.

“Luce?—”

“Yes, it’s St John’s Hospital. B-but no, you’re okay. I’m okay. Y-you don’t have to come, Harry.”

Harry frowned and shuffled on the step, “Are you sure? Lucille, I hate the thought of you there alone.”

“I’m not. Well, I won’t be; I think my brother-in-law is on his way, so Luke will be with me.” Lucille explained, her voice far more calm and understandable. “I’ll be okay.”

Harry sighed and rubbed his face, staring at the gap between his feet. His heart physically throbbed at the thought of his wife sat alone with her own thoughts in a silent room. He wanted to be there. But Sam’s partner, Luke, would hopefully be there soon. He was a great guy and Lucille felt safe with him.

“Okay, i-if that’s what you want, Love. I’ll come pick you up then?”

“No; I’m going to be here a-awhile, Harry. I don’t want to keep you up, you have work and—”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Lucille. I don’t care about work, right now. All I care about is you and Sam. I’ll stay up for how ever long you need.” Harry’s voice was short. He hadn’t intended for it to come out so sharp and impatient as it did. “Sorry. I’m just worried, Love.”

There was a slight pause on Lucille’s side before she audibly swallowed. “I know, Harry. Look—Luke‘s just arrived. He’s messaged me to met him at the entrance. I’ll be okay. I’ll get a taxi home.”

“Lucille—“

“I’ve called Stacey, I think she’s going to come keep me company; don’t worry. I better go ‘cause Luke’s waiting. I love you. .”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and reluctantly accepted defeat. “I love you too, Luce. I’ll see you later.”

Then the call ended. Harry dropped his phone to the step bellow him and he rubbed his face until it went red. This was sick; he felt like such a shitty, useless husband not being at his wife’s side. But he reminded himself that this is what she wanted and he must respect that.

She has her brother and best friend with her ,

she has a her brother and best friend there,

her brother and best friend are there, she is not alone. .

Was what Harry had to rhyme to himself for the rest of the night to calm his anxiety. He refused to go to bed. He refused to get changed into his pyjamas. He refused to eat the food he made for the both of them. He refused to continue on with his evening, their evening, without Lucille.

So he sunk into the sofa, put his ringer on as loud as possible and stared aimlessly at the flicker of the TV for the remainder of the night.

At around 11, later that same night, Harry woke up to his phone ringing; he must’ve dropped off to sleep at some point.

His eyes squinted, adjusting to the blue light streaming at him from the telly and his phone. The caller ID once again had Lucille ICE flashing at him and he sat up.

He accepted the call and blinked. “Lucille?”

“Hello, Harry?”

“Who’s this? Stacey?”

“Uh—yeah, hiya, it’s me. Look Harry, I’ve just rung a taxi for Lucille. She really needs to come home.”

Harry frowned and sat up even straighter, “I offered to come collect her but she said no.”

“Yup, yeah she told me but she’s stubborn as fuck.” Harry nodded to himself, “anyways, she’s not in great shape. Her eyes are bloodshot and she was practically falling asleep in the chair. She refused to eat and drink anything. She really needs to come home.”

“Yeah, of course. Thanks, Stacey, I’ll look out for the car. Um,” Harry paused and recollected his thoughts, “did—did you hear anything more about Sam? Do we even know what happened?”

Stacey sighed, indicating it wasn’t great news. “Hit ‘n run basically. There’s not severe injuries, thank fuck, but she’s got a few broken bones, concussion. .”

Harry ran a hand through his hair. It sounded awful but he was relieved that no catastrophic injuries took place. A hit and run, how terrible. .

“Jesus. .”

“Oh, that taxis here. Luce, cmon stay awake for me, time to get you home, Babe.” There was a groan and some muffled movements coming from Stacey’s call. “Gotta go, H. She’ll be with you shortly, bye!”

Harry tossed his phone to the side and stood up. His blanket fell from his upright body and crumpled to the ground. He picked it back up, deciding he’d wrap Lucille up in it when she arrived home to keep her warm.

In the 20 minutes it took for Lucille’s taxi to arrive home, Harry had got the bedroom and bathroom ready for her. He’d made the bed all comfy, with a few of her collected Jelly Cats sat up waiting for her. He’d turned on only one lamp so that it was dim and cozy; Harry did not want to overstimulate or overwhelm her.

In the bathroom, a bath had been run with lavender-scented bath salts scattered in the warm water. Lucille’s pink flannel and matching towel were folded neatly on the closed toilet seat along with her pyjamas. Harry figured a quick warm bath would make her feel better; it would relax her a little bit before bed and she’d hopefully feel a little better within herself with clean hair, a clean body and—ultimately—a clean(er) mind.

As Harry went to shut the bedroom blinds, he spots a black taxi pull up onto the driveway, it’s headlights seeping in through the windows. Harry bounded down the steps and jogged out to the car.

He went to the passenger-side window and tapped on the glass. The driver rolled down the window.

“Hey buddy,” Harry handed him a folded £20 note. “cheers mate.”

Harry shuffled sideways and opened the rear door. Lucille sat behind the driver, her head slumped against the door, eyes fluttering shut. He knelt a knee on the seat and reached in for her, scooping his arms under her knees and around her back.

“Cm’ere, I’ve gotcha. .”

Lucille cradled in his arms, barely awake. Harry kicked the car door shut gently and thanked the driver once again through the passenger window and hurried them both inside.

⭐️

“Everything’s going to be okay. .” Harry cooed softly to his wife as he gently washed her face with a damp flannel. Lucille was slumped against the side of the tub, her small hand being used as a pillow to protect her head from the hard porcelain. “You’re going to be okay, Lovely.”

He ran the flannel across her forehead and looked down at her eyes. They were distant. Almost like there was nothing behind them; no thoughts, no emotion. The flannel was dunked back into the bath water before it trailed softly over her pale shoulder and down her arm.

Her naked body was curled up against the side and her long hair trailed down her back, wet after Harry’d washed it.

He took his eyes off Lucille for the first time in a little while to squeeze out the excess water from the flannel and drape it on the edge of the tub. Harry’s attention is back on his wife in an instant and he reaches over to cup her shoulder. His green eyes scan her pale features, searching for something; anything,

He hummed and copied Lucille’s position, using his left hand as a bony pillow for his cheek as he rested it on the bathtub. His finger softly rubs her damp skin and begins to hum a song softly.

Her eyes slowly wonder up to his and Harry gives a small smile, reaching up to stroke her cheek.

“Hi there.” He whispers. Lucille blinks slowly and Harry took that as her way of saying hello back. “Are you hungry, Darling? Do you want some tea? Toast?” His whisper continues but he notices a slight shift in her eyes. They went from content and sleepy to a slight panic-like glimmer. She began sitting up, her face looking flustered.

“Harry—“ she choked out as she used all of her strength to life her chin over the side of the tub, where she suddenly coughed and vomited onto the bathroom floor.

Harry’s hands immediately went to her back and forehead, supporting her weight so that she didn’t slip and fall. He rubbed a small circle on her back to coax anything else up. Lucille coughed over the small puddle of, well, nothing. It was mainly water. She was left panting, her eyes wide like saucers as she realised she’d just been sick.

“Oh, it’s okay, Luce.” Harry cooed, stroking back her wet hair. “let’s get you out of here, hm?”

10 minutes later, Lucille is tucked in in bed; wrapped up in her favourite pyjamas and the quilt tugged up to her chin. Harry is laying next to her, on top of the duvet, soothing her hair back and waiting for her to drift to sleep.

It had been a long, difficult and scary night for the both of them but especially Lucille. The best thing for her was rest. Harry figured he’d try getting her to eat in the morning. He then remembered he still had the bath to drain and the small puddle of vomit to clean up but that could wait.

The stress-induced vomiting had honestly scared him; the fact that she only threw-up maybe a mouthful of digested water made Harry feel sick himself—he hated the thought of his wife not being able to eat anything because she’s so sick with worry and anxiety.

“You’re so strong, Lucille. I hope you know that. Your sister is strong too and she’s going to be okay.” He whispered to her, despite her being fast asleep. He listened to her breathe, soft and faint snores coming from her nose.

Getting tired himself, he left the bedroom and went in to tidy and clean-up the bathroom before climbing back into bed—for real this time. Harry leant over and pecked the softest kiss on his wife’s forehead, not wanting to wake her before cozying down himself and letting his body drift into a slumber.

⭐️

[pandorapromises]

would anyone like to read a cut excerpt from the lo'ak x reader fic i'm currently working on?? i had to take it out cuz it wasn't working with the setup or tone i had planned like, this was turning out comedic and not angsty

"Oh, for the love of Eywa!" you cry, bursting into tears. This man, your muntxatan, is so, so hopelessly stupid and so stupidly sweet. He makes you want to tear out your own hair until you're bald.

You also want to bury your face in your hands but you can't because they're slimy and sticky with fruit juices. You're forced to rub your eyes with the back of your hand while Lo'ak scrambles to figure out what he did wrong.

The way your name flows out of his mouth sounds like it's him who's in pain, not you. "Please tell me why you're crying," Lo'ak begs, scooting closer to you. "What do I do? Huh? Tell me, what do I do?" His hand is warm upon your back and somewhat comforting but the tears and sobs do not stop pouring from your eyes and mouth.

"Are you hungry? Thirsty?" Lo'ak lists off every thing he can think of that might be upsetting you. "The baby? Is it being a menace again?"

The laugh that bubbles out of you comes out choked and makes your belly bounce like you're crying harder instead. This is when you realize that Lo'ak has never seen you cry before. But it's too late; now he knows his muntxate** is an ugly crier.

"Is it… the hormones?" he tries again.

"I don't even know what that is??" you croak, the tears leaving wet tracks on your cheeks. Lo'ak tends to speak in a confusing mess of Na'vi and English. Sometimes, like now, you have no idea what in Eywa's name he's talking about.

"Nevermind, forget about it. Just tell me what's wrong! Was it me? Was it something I said?" Lo'ak insists. "Whatever it is, I am very, very sorry and I will never do it again."

You take a deep, heaving breath that rattles your chest and leaves you hiccuping. Tears still fall from your eyes, blurring your vision, but at least the worst of the sobbing is over. In spite of your throbbing headache, you take another breath and get a grip on yourself.

The first thing that comes out of your mouth is, "No, I'm s-sorry."

Lo'ak frowns in confusion, scooting even closer. You're practically sitting between his legs with his hand squeezing your shoulder. "Sorry for what?"

Your hand flies to your chest, accidentally smearing sticky fruit juices all over your skin. "Sorry that it's me-e," you blubber pathetically through ugly, wet sniffling.

Now it's Lo'ak's turn to stare at you blankly with no idea what in Eywa's name you're talking about.

For some reason, this upsets you even further. "Stop pretending!" you hiss tearfully. "Don't--don't act like you don't know, Lo'ak…"

"Wh-what?" Lo'ak can only blink in utter bewilderment. He opens his mouth to speak but before he can, a loud, boisterous voice interrupts him, calling your names.

"Hey, forest boy!" Aonung shouts over the noise of the celebration in the village. He's standing on the walkway above the water with a waving Spider at his side.

"Are you guys coming to the party or not?!" Spider yells, his voice easily heard even through his rebreather.

Lo'ak rolls his eyes in exasperation and mutters to you, "Hold on, let me get rid of them." You think he's about stand and go talk to them but instead, he simply bellows over his shoulder as loud as he's able, "We're busy!! Go away!"

The sudden volume makes you jump in your own skin and where taking deep breaths failed, being startled succeeded. No longer are you a weeping, hiccuping mess.

Aonung and Spider look at each other, Spider shrugs, and they promptly return to the warrior's dance.

"Okay, so what were you saying?" Lo'ak says as he turns back around.

You shake your head and try to stand up, shoving his arm off in the process. But with your big belly, it's near impossible to do alone. You are a stubborn woman though. You push Lo'ak's hand away when he tries to help you and through the sheer strength of your will, you rise on your own two feet.

Lo'ak chants your name, each time more desperately than the last, as he stands as well. "Please, tell me what's wrong, I can help! I can fix it!" he pleads.

You resist the urge to tell him to quiet down but with the warrior's dance raging on the other side of the village and practically everyone there, there's no one on the beach to witness your breakdown.

Trying to get a handle on your racing thoughts amidst a headache is difficult and even worse with Lo'ak forcing you to look at him with worried hands. "Lo'ak, please, I'm sorry but--"

"Sorry about what? I don't understand!" Lo'ak snaps. Both pairs of eyes widen at his sharp** tone, neither one of you expecting a reaction like this from him. "Shit. Sorry. Look, look at me--" He cups your cheek and gently turns your gaze back to him. "Listen to me, okay? I can't fix it if I don't know what it is. So please, tell me what is wrong so I can make it better."

For one tense moment, all you can hear is your quick, shallow intakes of breath and the heavy drumming of the warrior's dance in the distance. You can feel, down to your bones, time slowly stretching until every blink is as long as an eclipse. Lo'ak's eyes bore into yours until the bright amber of his irises is all you can see. You know you should be saying something, anything, but how can you form words when your mind is at a standstill and refuses to move?

Lo'ak solves this problem for you. Without speaking further, he releases his hold on your shoulders and carefully wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his warm chest. He is mindful of the babe in your belly and embraces you from the side, cradling you as tightly as he can without hurting you or your child. Then when he presses his lips to the top of your head, warming the spot with his breath, all you can do is let go and melt into him. It's like being carried by the current of a river, an unseen force that is only felt.

No one speaks for a while. There is only Lo'ak's warmth, the drums, the People's song, and the sea.

But just as you feel your eyelids getting heavier, Lo'ak whispers against your hair, "Will you get in trouble if you don't finish peeling the fruit?"

Your eyes snap open. "The fruit!" you gasp.

Lo'ak chuckles as he follows you to inspect your progress and offers, "Uh, maybe you take this half and I take that--"

"No," you interject, waving him away, "you start taking the finished ones to the Tsahik**. She will be needing them soon."

Your muntxatan nods obediently and with a grunt, lifts the heaviest basket onto his shoulder. But instead of leaving right away, he hesitates, watching as you kneel back down on the sand to finish your work.

"What is it?" you ask as you start hurriedly peeling what you have left.

"Did you know…" Lo'ak falters, fidgeting in place. "Did you know that you're really… beautiful? Even with all the…"

Your hands instantly freeze in mid-motion. You and Lo'ak simply stare at each other, equally wide-eyed.

"Even with all the what?" you inquire, a little breathlessly.

Lo'ak clears his throat and nearly drops the hefty basket on his shoulder when he takes one hand to try to gesture something. Thankfully, he is quick to catch it and doesn't drop any of the fruit but you're still left with unanswered questions.

"Even though I'm pregnant and bigger than Payakan?" you ask half-jokingly. You try to continue peeling but your hands are slow and shaky.

"Yes," Lo'ak answers, a little too loudly. Then his eyes widen even further. "Wait, no! No, that's not what I--" He squeezes his eyes shut while his ears flatten against his head. "Don't say that. You are not bigger than Payakan." Then he opens his eyes and looks at you intently. "I was going to say you're beautiful even though you're crying and your eyes are all red and splotch-y."

When you don't speak or respond, Lo'ak

[droughtofapathy]

"Welcome to the Theatre": Diary of a Broadway Baby

The Notebook

April 25, 2024 | Broadway | Gerald Schoenfeld Theatre | Evening | Musical | Original | 2H 20M

In the moment, sitting there in the theatre with tears streaming down my face at the wonderous performance Maryann Plunkett has gifted us, I liked the show a lot more than I did two hours later. The Notebook is at its strongest with Darian Harewood and Maryann Plunkett as Older Noah and Allie, respectively, at the center. Their love is so moving and heartbreaking. In contract, the young couple is charming and sweet in that puppy love feeling they give. The middle couple is...weaker, and the young and middle Allie seem to have little connection and consistency. This makes for a stronger first act, and a duller second that soon ramps up to a blubbering frenzy in the last few scenes.

I am a crier. I go to the theatre and I want to leave having sobbed through several tissues. Shows that create such immense emotional reaction are my bread-and-butter. This show had me weeping. But there's no catharsis to be found. No rejuvenation, no joy amidst sorrow, no relief. Only intense sadness that left me with a throbbing headache two hours later. In this way, the show feels like a manipulation. Like a purposeful endeavor to force audiences to tears, but offer nothing else beyond that.

The score is fine. It's nice, it's pleasant, and there's at least two songs that are wonderful. But it doesn't grab you by the throat and leave you forever changed. And it also sounds tonally identical throughout, so that's... At times, it feels like a high schooler's audition book, full of power ballads that end on a rousing belt, but little variety, little musical complexity, little...anything.

This is a romance musical, but it never approaches anything more profound. The romance itself is about as believable as you'd expect. I have many questions: namely, why these young kids are so enamored with one another to the point that ten years later, they haven't grown up and gotten over their little summer love fling. The love is so much deeper in the older couple, to no surprise. Noah's dedication to Allie, her final night where she's granted that last lucidity before it all ends... They are such good actors, and I'm glad they're being put forward as the leads, as they deserve.

Verdict: A Lovely Night (but kind of mad about it)

A Note on Ratings

[darlingjmiller]

ajdgsggwvbuwb thank you love

went for a job interview at a dog groomer/daycare place and it went really well so I might have a job next week!! wish me luck!!

[pony-central]

Crying TV Tropes That Apply to My Comic Characters

Berserker Tears - Sick Boyfriend started crying these while breaking up with Sick Girlfriend upon discovering that she never really liked him.

Bleed 'Em and Weep - in the Lost Media comic "Confronting Yourself", Sick Boyfriend started to cry once he unintentionally murdered his Anti-self

Crocodile Tears - Sick Boyfriend once did this to convince his teacher to let him skip his final two exams in school. This plan of his worked. DrugFriend also picked up this skill when he was convincing his dad to let him go Trick or Treating when he was five

Cry Into Chest - "Confronting Yourself" had SBF sob into his mums chest. The same thing happened at his 17th birthday party. DrugFriend also cried in Sick Boyfriend's chest after being fired from his job at FFFFE

Cry Laughing - Sick Boyfriend usually sheds tears of laughter whenever DrugFriend is called 'Drugsy Wugsy', often wetting himself afterwards

Crying a River - once Sick BF cried a fountain of tears because he had developed stage fright at the age of nine. Boyfriend is also no stranger to doing this

Crying at Your Birthday Party - see "Cry Into Chest". Sick Boyfriend once cried at his 17th birthday party upon waiting for his dad to show up

Crying Critters - the Lost Media comic called "Pet Daze" had Mrs Snickers crying once she was sent back to the pet store she came from

Everybody Cries - so many times where multiple people cried. One mega example is when Sick PonyCentral was crying over the possibility of dying to Nathan's demented father, as seen in Love at First Bite The Sequel. This caused Naughty PonyCentral to cry, and Boyfriend also started crying as well. Another example is when 95% of Parodies Town were crying over The Titanic movie

Heartbreak and Ice Cream - it was shown in VoreTober that Sick Boyfriend was crying and eating strawberry ice cream

Inelegant Blubbering - Sick PonyCentral, Sick Boyfriend, DrugFriend and a variety of characters do this, most often followed by sniffling

It's OK To Cry - in Mother's Day Mayhem, Freund tried desperately to hide his tears from PonyCentral during a therapy session. It didn't take long for him to burst into tears on the spot

Manly Tears - James Matric (Panchito Boyfriend). Whenever he sees a sad movie, he sheds a single tear

Men Don't Cry - heavily subverted.

My Eyes Are Leaking - most of the characters are subject to this trope

Ocular Gushers - Sick Boyfriend whenever he's reminded of DrugFriend in the remastered version of "A Boy Gotta Work". Sick PonyCentral also does this in LAFB TS after she found out that Sick Patrick was held hostage by Mr Files

Prone to Tears - Sick Boyfriend, based on my AU of him. He will resort to crying in distressing situations. DrugFriend and Sick PonyCentral also tend to start crying at the drop of a hat, and it also doesn't take much to cause Naughty PonyCentral and Nathan to cry as well. In fact, everyone in the PonyCentral universe, including PonyCentral herself, will all start crying for different reasons

Puppy-Dog Eyes - happens whenever begging is optional

Running Away to Cry - DrugFriend after he got fired from his job at FFFFE

Single Tear - James Matric (Panchito Boyfriend). See Manly Tears for the explanation

Tears of Awe - in "Love at First Bite Part 7", Naughty PonyCentral cries these after giving birth to a baby girl. In the bathtub. With the water still in the tub. It's a miracle that the baby survived

Tears of Fear - Sick Boyfriend whenever he sees a needle. Or gets scared of lightning

Tears of Joy - Sick PonyCentral once she sees her newborn baby girl for the first time

Trying Not to Cry - Freund whenever someone asks him about his mum

Your Makeup is Running - whenever Sick PonyCentral cries, her mascara spills down her face

Unable to Cry - Steven Graphite, AKA The DoodleBob Boyfriend. Makes sense since he is a sentient 2D drawing

Tasty Tears - Benedict Gumballs. He is a sentient Popsicle, so his tears are blueberry flavoured

[amazinggraciegurl]

Expect the Unexpected (Chapter 8: Blank)

Thursday December 3, 2020 (Present Time) 7:43 pm

Raven struggles desperately to not succumb to the panic ripping at her chest. She takes deep breaths, in through her nose, out through her mouth. In, out. In, out. She glances over at Apple, whose knuckles are white, as she grips the steering wheel. Raven squeezes her eyes shut, fighting off the tears that prick the backs of her eyelids. She needs to keep it together. She's been a blubbering mess the past couple days. She's fully relied on Apple, her best friend, for comfort and support. She’s noticing, though, that the situation has taken its toll on her as well. Though the girls did get some rest today back at Apple's house, Apple must've not slept well. Dark bags lie below her bright blue eyes. She’s been stifling yawn after yawn the whole drive. Raven lets out a shuddering breath as ghastly images are conjured in her mind. Dexter's pale, bloodied face, eerily illuminated by the harsh glow of a fluorescent light. The memory of her father, his pale, lifeless figure lying in the decorative wood coffin. Raven standing before him, tears rolling down her cheeks. Apple's soft hand in hers, squeezing tight. Dexter’s arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders.

Raven whimpers as she fails to block the image from her mind. Apple glances over at her. “Hey,” she soothes. “It's okay, Raven. Everything is going to be okay. I just need you to stay calm right now, okay? Just breathe. Deep breaths.” Raven nods, letting out a trembling sigh. Apple takes a hand off the wheel, reaching over and giving Raven's hand a tight squeeze. “You're okay, sweetie,” she murmurs as Raven slowly gains her composure. “You're okay.” She draws her hand away after a moment, placing it back on the steering wheel. Raven leans back. Breathe, she thinks to herself. I just need to breathe. Keep breathing. Deep breaths.

XXX 7:56 pm Raven's heart pounds, crashing against her ribcage like a sledgehammer. She races down the hall, the white walls a blur on either side of her. Apple and Darling rush behind her, hand in hand. The girls approach Dexter's room. Dr. Pine is standing by the open wooden door, gazing down at a clipboard. He looks up as he hears their footsteps. “Dr. Pine," Darling breathes. “How is Dexter?” “Girls, before you enter, I must warn you-” “I’m sorry!” Raven exclaims. “I need to see him!” She darts past Dr. Pine, dashing into the dimly lit room. She scarcely registers the vicinity is occupied by many others-Dexter’s parents, Daring, Rosabella, Briar, and Ashlynn. Dexter is sitting up. His face is still scraped, marred by bloody cuts, but his glasses are on. His tousled brown locks cover his forehead. Raven gasps. Tears of relief stream from her eyes. “Dexter!” she shrieks.

She surges forward, scrambling to his bedside. She sits next to him, gently wrapping her arms around him. She presses her face against his shoulder. The scent of antiseptic fills her nose. “Baby,” she chokes out. “I love you so much! Thank God you're alright!” She chokes out a sob. His arms slowly envelop her. He holds her lightly, not with the same intensity and warmth that he usually embraces her with. She weeps into his shoulder, the fear and anxiety of the past twenty four hours draining out of her in tiny, warm droplets on the sleeve of Dexter's gown. He pats her back. Raven is so overwhelmed by joy that she doesn't even consider how weak the hug is. She pulls away after a few moments. She gazes at Dexter, at his pale face, his blue eyes, dark as the night sky. She reaches out, stroking her thumb over his cheek. “Dex,” she breathes. “I love you. I couldn't stand the thought of living without you! I-” She stifles another sob. Through her blurry eyesight, she notices an apologetic expression spreading over Dexter's face. He takes a shaky breath. Raven places her hand on his shoulder. “What's wrong, baby?” she whispers. “I-I,” he stutters. “I-I’m sorry, I just-do I know y-you?”

Raven's hand goes limp, collapsing onto her lap. The wind is knocked out of her, as if she's been punched in the gut. “Dr. Pine!” Darling exclaims, her voice shrill with fright. “Wh-what is he talking about?” Raven's trembling hands cover her face. A hand rests on her shoulder. “That's what I was going to tell you girls,” says Dr. Pine, his tone somber. “Dexter has suffered memory loss. We don't know how extensive it is yet. We’ll have to run some tests-” Raven's heartbeat, thumping against her skull, overpowers all the background noise. She clutches her head. An arm wraps around her shoulders. "Breathe, sweetie," Ashlynn whispers. "You've got to breathe." She can't be here right now. She can't look at her boyfriend, his eyes cloudy with confusion. She can't stand the sympathetic expressions on everybody's faces.

She jumps to her feet, running out of the room as fast as she can. “Raven, wait!” Apple yells. Raven is already gone, dashing down the hall. The world is an overwhelming blur of color and sound as she rushes down the stairs. She trips on the last step, falling to her knees on the tile floor. “Are you alright, miss?” a voice worriedly asks. Raven scrambles to her feet. The physical pain is a fuzzy sensation, compared to the fear and grief simmering in her chest. The wind pushes against her, whipping past her ears, as she runs outside. Through misty, unfocused eyes, she sees a bench in the distance. Her legs burn as she rushes toward it. She drops onto it, wrapping her arms around herself as the bitter cold air slices through her. She looks down, her shoulders heaving as each breath she takes grows harder to summon. A thin layer of snow sparkles on the pavement.

The worst thing that could possibly happen to Dexter has occurred, and there's nothing that Raven, or anybody, can do to stop it. Raven would do anything for Dexter. She would bear any amount of pain, fight any evil, withstand any curse. She'd die for him. She'd fucking jump in front of an approaching grenade for him. Now, though, when Dexter needs her the most, she's helpless. She wishes, more than anything else, that she could reach inside his head, flick a switch on his brain, and he'd remember her. He'd remember all the memories--happy, exciting, romantic, and heartbreaking that they'd shared. It breaks Raven, shatters her heart like glass, that he may never remember the adventures they've experienced, the challenges they've faced, the seemingly eternal days of pure bliss where they’d lay in each other's arms, every kiss meaning more than the last. Those days can't be over. They just can't. She draws her knees to her chest, burying her face between them as her head spins. She can't breathe. Every image of Dexter is more painful. She really can't breathe.

She doesn’t know how much time has passed when warm arms suddenly surround her. She gasps raggedly. She slowly lifts her head, and through blurry eyes, sees Ashlynn and Briar sitting beside her, holding her close. She drops her head onto Ashlynn’s shoulder, trying to breathe in the scent of mint that the girl always emanates. But her throat is too tight. “I can’t breathe,” she croaks, the panic pressing on her chest. “You can, sweetie,” Ashlynn murmurs, gently rubbing Raven's back. “Just look and tell me what you can see.” Raven’s bleary eyes ache as she squints at her surroundings. “Snow,” she whispers. “It’s snowing.” Delicate flakes, soft as fairy dust, are drifting down through the sky, landing lightly on the girls. “Good, honey,” says Ashlynn. “What else?” “Lights,” Raven replies. “Christmas lights on the houses across the street.” “Wonderful!” Ashlynn exclaims. “Keep going, baby.” Raven names everything she can see as her eyesight gradually returns to normal. The cars in the parking lot; the trees in the distance, blanketed with snow; a man helping an elderly woman cross the street.

She isn’t sure when she starts breathing again, but eventually she registers the even rising and falling of her chest. “You did so good, sweetheart,” Ashlynn praises. “So good.” The girls descend into a comfortable silence, just watching as the snow swirls through the twilit sky. When Raven's body begins to quake with shivers, Briar gently speaks. “Do you want to go home, sweetie?” Raven’s heart pounds at the thought of going back into the hospital, back to her boyfriend who hasn’t the slightest inkling of who she is. She shakes her head quickly. “Yes,” she says, her voice shaking. “I can’t go back to the hospital! I can't!” “It’s okay, sweetie,” Briar soothes. “You don’t have to. Let’s go back to me and Ash's place and just relax. Sound good?” “Yeah,” Raven agrees. “Sounds good.”

XXX 8:37 pm Briar’s and Ashlynn's house is medium-sized, elegant, and cozy. The style is modern and adorned with many flower-themed decorations. "I'm sorry that Willow's toys are everywhere," Ashlynn apologizes. "I forgot to tell her to pick them up before taking her over to Hunter's." "No problem," Raven replies. “Here, make yourself comfortable,” says Briar, leading Raven over to the carnation pink couch. Raven sits, slumping back into the soft cushions. “There you go,” Briar murmurs. “Now, would you like something to eat?” “I’m not hungry,” Raven replies, looking down at the rose-patterned couch cover. “How about a nice cup of tea?” Ashlynn asks. Raven shrugs. “Yeah, I’ll make us some tea,” Ashlynn decides, going off to the kitchen. “You want to watch a movie?” Briar asks. “Sure,” Raven replies, figuring there’s nothing better to do.

There’s a gaping hole inside her where her heart used to be, and the emptiness makes her feel like a different person. A cold, soulless person, no more alive than Dexter was in his comatose state. Briar frowns, the concern in her eyes unable to touch Raven, to make her feel any semblance of regret for how she’s worrying her friends. “Why don’t you get some jammies on first?” Briar suggests. “You can borrow some of mine. They’re in the bottom drawer of my dresser.” “Okay,” Raven agrees, the effort of standing up harder than it’s ever been. Rifling through Briar’s dresser, she manages to find one pair of pajamas that aren’t pink; they’re a glossy black. In the bathroom, she stares at her reflection in the mirror. Dark circles ring her dull violet eyes. Her face is even paler than usual. She tries to feel anything, to summon any of the emotions that she used to take for granted; but every second she feels emptier than the last.

When she comes out, Briar and Ashlynn are sitting on the couch, each nursing a cup of steaming tea. “Hey, Raven,” Ashlynn greets. “Your cup is on the coffee table.” Raven sits next to them on the couch, grabbing her cup of tea. “Thanks, Ash,” she says. She takes slow sips, aware that she’s being watched by Briar and Ashlynn. She knows they’re expecting her to burst into tears at any second. There's a box of tissues on the coffee table that wasn't there before, she notes. The thought of crying, though, feels foreign to her right now. Moments of silence pass before Briar speaks. “What do you want to watch, Raven?” Raven thinks for a moment. “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone,” she decides. “Good choice,” Briar says, turning the TV on.

As the movie starts, Raven puts her tea down, leaning back against the cushions. With Briar’s and Ashlynn’s warm bodies beside her, their steady breathing, her eyes begin to grow heavy. The last thing she remembers before she drifts off is Harry running towards the entrance to Platform 9 ¾, half expecting to hit the hard stone wall. Raven knows that he makes it. That against all earthly physics, he appears on the platform. Her last thought is--will she make it? Or will she slam into the wall, ending up bruised and bloody on the floor?

[goldentsum]

━  pretty submissives.

CHARACTERS: miya atsumu, miya osamu, sakusa kiyoomi, and suna rintarou

WARNING: smut, 18+ content, bdsm, sex toys, pretty subs who cry, overstimulation, orgasm denial, mommy kink, hard dom! reader, soft dom! reader, lingerie on males, maid outfits on males, degradation, praising, anal play (male receiving), oral sex, handjob, riding

AUTHOR’S NOTE: seeing the “doms” become subs and cry makes me so excited! sub! male characters supremacy!!!

part 2 - tsukishima, kageyama, oikawa, kuroo

— atsumu ♡

• a brat and a masochist 

• likes it when you go hard on him. make him cry. hurt him. atsumu likes it. he loves it even!

• when you manhandle him, not giving a fuck about how loud he is and just chasing your own pleasure, using him, makes him whiny and it triggers his orgasm! 

• slap him, spank him, mark him, degrade him, he’ll cum untouched!

• atsumu’s a cocky little shit outside of the bedroom, telling people how dom he is but you both know who moans like a little bitch when spanking sessions goes a little harder than usual. 

• his expressions are the best! his usual cocky smirk turning into a lewd face. eyes rolling back to his head, mouth wide open as drool trails down his chin, and a delicious red blush on his cheeks. the way he shivers and trembles under you is breathtaking. 

• if you overstim him, he’ll cry and scream, jerking violently on the bed. he becomes really sensitive, even more sensitive than normal, and he comes way too quickly but he recovers fast so dw~

• sub! atsumu is super fun to play with especially when he’s being a brat about it. 

• but your aftercare makes him super soft! he gets really cuddly afterwards! clean him up though or he’ll whine about it in the morning. 

“i-it’s too much-!” atsumu cried, your hand still stroking him. the mess from his earlier orgasms makes it easier to stroke him back to hardness. his thighs quivered at the intense pleasure, sensitive from the past orgasms. 

you smirked down at your boyfriend, loving the way he tremble and weep. his face was a mess, drool on his lips and chin and tears running down his cheek, his nose red. atsumu gasped when you placed the bullet vibrator against his spent cock, the intense buzzing making him shriek. 

his moans are so cute. so pretty and loud. 

your eyes admired his bruises and hickeys. his inner thighs red from your bites, chest covered with scratches, and his neck with your lovebites. 

“have you learned your lesson, tsum?” you hummed absentmindedly, still running the vibrator along his length while you other hand squeezed and massaged his cock’s swollen and red head. atsumu whimpered, hips thrusting. 

“y-yes! please! i-i can’t come again! it hurts!” he whined, squirming on the bed. new set of tears running down his cheeks from the pleasure. 

“hmm~ give me another one then i’ll believe that you’ve learned your lesson” atsumu moaned at that and let his head plop down back on the pillows, eyes closing from your actions. brows furrowed, mouth opening again to let out series of broken moans. 

you removed the vibe making atsumu sigh in relief, breath stuttering a bit. he panted, chest heaving.

you snickered at the fucked out expression on him. the calm moment quickly dissipate as he choked on a moan when you wrapped your lips around his cock, tongue swiping at the swollen head and your hand massaging the prominent vein that run along his cock.

“aAAH-!” raspy moans escaped the male, hips jerking as you started to bob your head. atsumu hics as his lips trembles

if anyone asked you what was your favorite moment was with your boyfriend, it was definitely when he’s like this. when he’s your little slut. 

— osamu ♡

• a soft princess~ <3 

• he will do anything you ask. model a piece of lingerie? he’s already wearing it. show you how he touch himself? done. lay on your lap for his spanking session? he’s there. asap. 

• osamu is a obedient baby but he still gets a little playful at time, testing your dom side. 

• but when you turn hard dom on him, he’ll cry. in anticipation and in excitement. 

• if you deny his orgasm, he’s gonna cry. even if it’s only one orgasm, he’ll whine and tells to you that he has been a good boy. only a good boy. no bad boy! 

• a crybaby!! 

• he’s already sensitive normally but if you deny him his orgasm, he gets really antsy and get really sensitive making him squirm and pout. 

• if you degrade him, he’ll be really pouty and teary! only praises for baby samu! 

• tell him how pretty he is. praise how well he fucks you. tell him that you like it that he’s your obedient little princess. he’ll be putty in your hands~

• if you bring food in the bedroom, licking it off him. he’ll get really shy! also, if he sees the food outside the bedroom, he’ll probably remember what you did and get hard pft 

• samu loves the feeling of your tongue on him!

“tsk. you’ve been really bad, princess” you scolded, watching osamu whine. a pretty laced collar on his neck, his body shivering as you massaged his prostate. 

“n-no! ‘m good-!” he whimpers out, hips grinding down to your fingers. you spanked his ass, gripping the red flesh. osamu gasped at the impact, eyes rolling back to his skull. 

you thrust your fingers in his ass, his tight walls clenching down. your other hand went to his balls, cupping it tightly. osamu mewled, tongue sticking out of his mouth. his body shuddering when the tips of your fingers brushed again and again against his prostate. 

“really now? you don’t remember that you were being a brat earlier when mommy had to work?” 

osamu sobbed, toes curling when your fingers quickened. his teeth biting down his lips. he sniffled and stared up at you, eyes teary and red from being denied his orgasm 3 times now. 

“’m sorry, w-wanted mommy’s a-attention!” he confessed, body quivering. you stopped making him whine at the lost of pleasure. taking your fingers out of him, you climbed on top of him. 

leaning closer to him, you kissed his lips. he chased your lips, desperate for your affection. osamu opened his mouth, an invitation to slither your tongue in. you hummed in appreciation and entered your tongue in his cavern, playing with his tongue. 

the male moaned against your mouth as you swallowed his pretty moans. his body violently jerked, surprised at the pleasure, when you started grinding your clothed pussy on his sensitive cock. he cried, trying to make you quicken your slow grinding. 

you moved away from his lips, his gasps echoing in the room as he quivered under you. your lips trailed down to his neck, sucking on the soft skin. 

“you wanted mommy’s attention? you have it, princess~” 

— sakusa ♡

• a touch-starved baby! 

• please handle with care :( 

• pretty boy gets embarrassed really easily so please tone down the teasing. but i don’t blame you if you want to try. he gets really red, the contrast of the red on his pale skin and dark hair is stunning!

• stare at him while you pleasure him and he becomes more responsive, your eyes makes him squirm! 

• loves it when you suck him off, admiring his body. do not degrade or he’ll be really hurt about it and might not do anything for a longgg timeee

• any form of physical affection makes him really shy and he’s really embarrassed when he pops a boner because of it! even if it’s the most innocent touch, a sudden boner will pop out of nowhere. 

• when you overstim him, his pretty dark eyes gets shiny with tears and turns half-lidded as he blubbers incoherent words.

• if you give him gifts, lingerie and/or collars, he would react strongly at first! getting shy and being a tsundere but as soon as he wears it and you praise him, telling him how he looks so good, it’ll make him super happy! 

• please wash him after the fun though, the gentle atmosphere contrasting from what happened earlier makes sakusa soft. he loves your hands. running up and down his body, caressing the skin that no one but you gets to touch. 

water splashed against the large tub as you rode omi. his breath getting more uneven and hitching when you clench down at him. 

sakusa hid his warm and red face at the crook of your neck, he can’t look at you. if he does now, he feels like he’ll cum just from the way you look at him with pure desire. 

you run your fingers through his wet dark locks, massaging his scalp. sakusa moaned against your wet skin, lips biting down on his bottom lip as he tried to muffled the loud moans that was threatening to escape him. 

“don’t hide your pretty moans, baby~ let me hear you” you whispered, hips moving faster, loving the way sakusa’s large cock hits your sweet spot dead on and the way the tip reach so deep inside you. 

the dark-haired male whined, hands gripping your hips as his legs shook. he panted against your neck making you shiver when his hot breath hit your cold skin. 

you let your hands rest on sakusa’s wide shoulders, using it to help you move up and down on his cock. you hummed in satisfaction when you hear his moans getting louder and you tugged his hair, making him look at you. you looked at him in awe and lust. 

he’s so pretty. his dark eyes half-lidded as it gleam with tears and lust. lips red from the earlier biting. the red blush across his cheeks and neck was absolutely delectable. 

“you getting close, omi?” you whispered as he nodded, whining, brows furrowing. you leaned closer and started littering his neck with bites, breaking the skin. 

sakusa moaned at that, hips thrusting up making you moan when his cock grazed your cervix. you licked the column of his neck then slid your tongue into his open mouth. 

he kissed you back with a hint of timidness, still a bit shy. he let you take the lead with the kiss as always. omi loved the way your dominance oozes out of you but still maintaining this certain softness that makes his heart full. 

omi gasped into the kiss when your fingers pinched his nipple, rolling it sensually. you broke the kiss and looked down at him, a lazy smirk on your lips as your hips rolled. 

“you’re so pretty, omi~” 

you loved the way his body reacts with praises. his eyes rolling into his head, head threw back, and mouth open. you trailed one hand to his lips, fingers going into mouth and played with his sleek tongue. sakusa moaned against your fingers, sucking and working on your fingers like a good baby he is~ 

— suna ♡

• a pillow princess! 

• he loves it when he just lays there, letting you do all the work, as you work him into his high~

• suna loves it when you dress him up, caressing his skin. 

• lingerie and maid outfits with cat ears are his faves! thigh high socks are also his go to! 

• and when you praise him, cooing at him about how good he looks and your fingers playing with the bell on his collar makes his heart skip a beat

• suna also has a masochistic side! all soft sex aside, he loves it when you fuck him hard. use him for your own pleasure, remind him of his place. also after sex when he looks in the mirror, seeing the bruises you give him rises a weird satisfaction in him

• he would let you do anything! just talk about it with him before actually doing it. 

• pretty boy looks good in dresses! his small waist is amazing! 

• i said it once and i’ll say it again, he’s a pretty pillow princess! 

• he loves the way you stalk towards him, eyes dark and filled with lust. it makes him squirm with excitement, waiting for your next move.

• fucking him while his ass is stretched by a butt plug that’s attached to a tail, his maid outfit messy and covered with his cum, and his bell ringing every time you fuck him would make him so dazed and fucked out! 

“what a cute kitten you are, rin~” you cooed, fingers trailing on his bruised back down to the crack of his ass then to his ass where the tail hang. you grinned and pushed the plug deeper inside him, marveling at the way his body arch and his whines getting louder. 

the skirt of the maid outfit was bundled up on his waist, showing his pretty ass to you. you then tugged a bit at the tail, suna whimpering at the way the butt plug drag against his walls. 

you then turned him around, manhandling him to the way you like. suna looked up at you with dazed eyes, his thick cock standing proudly against his stomach, the now soiled lacy panties pushed down to his thighs. 

“fuck, you’re absolutely gorgeous” you praised. suna moaned when you held his cock, stroking him as you positioned yourself up on his thighs and lined him to your folds. 

the male gulped at the sight of you and relished the way you slowly sunk down to his length. your moans mixing together, savoring the stretch of suna’s dick and the way your walls sucked him in. 

once he bottomed out, you panted on top of him and your hands on his chest, touching the soft fabric of his outfit, steadying yourself. 

“p-please move... please..” you heard after a little bit, you gazed down at him and smirked. hands fondling his chest, admiring the way his adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped and the way the bell on his neck, rung. 

“want me to move, kitten?” suna nodded, opening his lips to slur out pleads. how can you deny the cute kitty when he moans so prettily for you so you started moving, clenching down on his dick. the way his cock felt was amazing as always, filling you up so good. 

suna moaned when you started going faster, his hands gripped at the blankets beneath him. he laid on the mattress, moaning like crazy, letting you ride him to oblivion. 

you cooed, panting a bit, as you admired him. you reached down and tipped his chin towards you. he opened his fucked out eyes to gaze at you, a blush coating his cheeks. 

“you should see yourself right now, baby boy. you look absolutely delicious~” 

[metalbuckaroo]

Hiiiii!!!!! Can I request a one shot where Bucky wakes up from a nightmare of him killing his wife (he’s walking over bodies of people he killed and then zemo snaps him out of the winter soldier and when he sees the bodies he starts tearing up but when he sees Y/N, his wife, as part of the bodies, he rushes to her and starts to pat her face and tell her to wake up and then he starts to cry and scream his heart out. Then when he wakes up startled cz he’s never had a nightmare like that, she asks him if everything is okay and he says yes then later that day he becomes distant and angst and fluffy happy ending plzzz

Can they also have a little boy named Steve and is 3 years old but smarter than most 3 year olds cz of the supersoldier serum he inherited from both parents (Reader is Steve Rogers younger sister and she also became a supersoldier with him)

Family

Summary: the ask seems like a pretty good summary honestly

Warnings: mentions of death, blood, trauma, nightmares, angsty asf, mention of pregnancy, fluffy, lots of emotions

AU: Bucky x Rogers!Reader

AN: I looooved this request so much, I really hope I did the beautiful idea the justice it deserves ❤ the bold and italic is the nightmare, I did indeed cry a little while writing this. Its a bit sad.

Requests are always open!

MASTERLIST

(@commoninterest made the mood board)

Bucky should've been use to the nightmares by now, even though he didn't have as many, he should've been able to pull himself out of them easily like how you showed him; check for clocks, count your fingers, etc. But, this one felt so real, so different.

There was so much blood and carnage, lifeless bodies scattered a small field that he was walking through as a voice echoed in his ears; command words that he hadn't heard in so long.

He looked around at the familiar faces of the corpses, tears stinging his eyes from the memories of each of them.

"No-" his voice was strained, the lump in his throat nearly blocking the sound as he rushed to the one body that nearly tore him apart, his blood running cold.

He stumbled and tripped over bodies, repeating himself over and over. "No, no, no-" He skidded to his knees, grabbing your hand to feel for any pulse as he shoved one of the other corpses off of your legs and pulled you onto his thighs.

"Please, no." He whimpered, holding your cheeks as tears streaked his blood and dirt caked face, dropping onto yours.

Bucky's attention turned to Zemo who stood in the midst of everything, completely clean. "What did you do?!" He boomed, chest heaving with the heavy sobs. "What did you do. Soldat."

He looked back down to your face, gently shaking your head and stroking his thumb over your cheekbone. "C'mon, wake up." He sobbed, vision blurry from the uncontrollable tears rolling out.

"Please, baby! Please, wake up! Don't leave me! You said you wouldn't leave me!" Bucky croaked, a blubbering mess as he cradled your limp body in his arms and held you close to his chest.

An explosive, guttural wail ripped from his chest as he clutched onto you, his whole body shaking from the screams and weeps that tore through his throat. His pained cries and shrills loud echoing off of the trees.

He took a shaky breath and moved his hand to your stomach, shuddering before squeezing his eyes shut and repeating the same phrase like you'd told him. "It's not real, it's not real, it's not-"

Bucky jerked awake, room still dark as his hand grasped at the empty spot next to him that made panic surge through his body. "Sugar?" He called, sitting up in the bed to look around the empty room. "Sweets, where you at?" His chest started heaving when all he got was silence.

It couldn't have been real. There was no way it was real, he just saw and touched your face last night. You were right beside him, tucked into his side when he went to sleep and your spot was still warm.

The bedroom door cracked open and some relief washed over him, your form slipping into the room. "I had to pee, are you okay?" Your soothing voice said, delicate hands reaching out to cup his cheeks. "Y-yeah. I'm fine, just a bad dream, I guess. I don't remember." He lied, gently holding onto your wrists.

"Steven is gonna be up soon, lets start some breakfast. I'll make you some coffee. Okay, stud?" He nodded at your offer and swung his legs off of the bed, walking with you downstairs.

Bucky helped cook breakfast before going to his son's room, the three year old boy that was his fathers portrait; dark hair and sparkling blue eyes, a smile to match and smart as a whip thanks to the super soldier serum that coursed through his veins from you both.

"Mommy made breakfast, bud. Let's go eat." Bucky smiled, lifting the boy into his left arm before heading back downstairs. "Are you okay, daddy? You look sad." Steve frowned, holding Bucky's cheeks in his small hands. "Sad? How can I be sad when I got you and your mom?" He smiled. "Mommy gets sad sometimes."

"Well, she is growing a baby, she's allowed to get sad. It's a hard job to do."

Bucky tried to go along with his day like normal, it was only a night terror after all; it wasn't going to actually happen.

But, everytime he'd look down at the small bump of his second child growing in your belly that barely stretched the fabric of your tank top, it made his heart pound and head feel light; like he was going to pass out and throw up all at the same time.

So, after breakfast he placed a short, sweet kiss to your lips and hid away in his office for the rest of the day; the spare room with boxes in it that would be a nursery soon enough.

You didn't think anything of it at first, he hadn't been home from a mission for very long and probably had paperwork to fill out or go over. Steven had asked a couple times if his dad was going to play today and you assured him that Bucky would tomorrow.

It wasn't until bedtime when you were tucking your sleepy son into bed that you knew something was up; Bucky never missed bedtime unless he was gone for work.

"I think daddy's sad." Steven frowned, clutching the teddy bear Bucky had brought home from wakanda right before he was born; a gift from Shuri. "He's just working, honey. I'm sure he'll spend the whole day with you tomorrow to make up for it." You smiled, tucking his blanket under his legs.

"Is he thinking about Uncle Steve again?" Your sons soft sleepy voice made your heart swell, smoothing a hand over his dark hair. "He might just be, baby. But, don't you worry about that. Get some rest, we'll go to the park tomorrow."

A gentle kiss to his forehead and a click on of his nightlight, you headed to Bucky's office down the hallway.

"You okay in here?" Your eyes looked at the untouched dinner plate before Bucky who sat with his face in his hands at the desk chair. "Buck, baby. What's wrong?"

The gentle touch of your hand on the back of his neck pulled Bucky out of his miserable thoughts and back to you, his strong arms wrapping around you and cheek pressing to your stomach. "Just wanna hold you." He sniffed, a slight shake to his voice as he left a kiss to the bump of your belly.

You let him pull you onto his lap, his arms snaking around you again and head leaning against your chest so he could hear the thump of your heart. "Whats going on in that brain of yours, stud?" You asked quietly, twisting a a lock of his shorter hair around your index finger.

"I promised Steve I'd protect you and I feel like I'm doing a terrible job..." His voice was more raspy from crying most of the day away. "Terrible job?" You leaned to look at him directly, his arms tightening around your waist slightly as though he didn't want you to move away.

His red eyes and puffy cheeks broke your heart. "Bucky, look around you. What do you see?" He glanced around the room, eyes taking in every smiling photo and box that was filled with baby supplies for the upcoming addition that was months away.

"Our home..." He mumbled, relaxing into the soft circles your fingertips traced into the skin of his forearm. "Exactly, our home. Where we're gonna be raising our babies." You soothed, your voice like honey to Bucky's ears.

He shook his head, the lines between his eyebrows deepening. "You could still get hurt. All three of you. Something or someone could try to hurt you."

You pressed a kiss between his brows, feeling the tension soften a little. "I can take care of myself, but that's why I have you. Among other reasons." Bucky frowned again, shaking his head. He still couldn't get the image from the dream out of his head. "I could hurt you."

Massaging his bicep, you placed another kiss to his face. "You won't, never would."

"But, I could."

Your stern look made his features soften completely, knowing you were going to scold him for thinking such things about himself as you held his cheeks in your hands. "James Buchanan, I went 70 years without you. It's not going to happen again, okay? You're home and you're safe, with your family."

He nodded and your hands slipped back down to his shoulders. "My family." A smile tugged at his lips, he wouldn't never get tired of saying and hearing that he had a family. A growing family at that.

Another kiss was placed to the top of his head, his hand rubbing the swell of your belly; still small but big enough to tell you were pregnant and growing every day.

"My big, strong soldier is a complete softy." You said breathing a laugh. "You're stronger than me anyways, I can never do this." He smiled, feeling a soft ripple from the moving life under his hand.

Bucky was always in complete awe of you when your belly was round from carrying the babies he helped create, going every day as if it was the easiest thing to do; just touching and looking at the small bump washed the intrusive thoughts away and brought happier ones.

"I'd do everything all over again just so I can have this life with you, Bucky." Your hand sat on top of his and he looked up at you. "How's baby boy number two doing?" He grinned.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. "I already told you, Buck. I think this one is a girl." You laughed. He shrugged lightly and looked back to your hands. "How many more we gonna have?"

"Maybe two." His eyes snapped back up to yours with furrowed eyebrows. "Two? That's it? I was thinking maybe five more." You breathed a laugh at his number and shook your head. "Oh, definitely not."

"Come on, you wouldn't like to have seven little Barnes' running around?" He joked, smile wide on his face and all terrible memories pushed away, back into the deepest corner of his mind. "We do that we'll have to get a bigger house and a school bus."

"I can make that happen."

[bellafragolina]

This is more dorky and silly but Nanu’s reaction to his s/o petting his meowths and crying cause they don’t have enough hands to pet them all? (Totally didn’t do this with my own pets)

Lol boy do I feel you. My aunt has like seven dogs and they all want love and I weep over not having enough hands all the time

🍓🍓🍓

Nanu sighs, the bag of takeout swinging on his arm as he shoves the key in the door and pushes it open. Immediately, the sound of sobbing hits his ears. He freezes, door slamming behind him, and looks with wide red eyes upon you in your mountain of Meowth. One has take up shop in your lap, another clinging to your back, a third and a fourth pressing into your palms for scritches. The rest vie for your attention with pitiful mews and pawing.

“Uh. . .” He says, because what else can you say?

Your head snaps to him, tears rolling down your cheeks. “Nanu! It’s terrible!”

He cocks a brow. You don’t look injured. “. . . What is?”

“I don’t have enough hands!” You blubber, scooping up the three Meowths before you into a hug. They immediately purr and the other neglected ones start to yowl louder. It only increases the volume of your sobs. “How can I love all these babies if I only have two hands!?”

Nanu sighs heavily. He places the takeout down on the couch, then sits heavily on the floor next to you. You sniff, still teary as you look at him, all pitiful and cute. He pinches your nose, and while you squawk and whine from the slight pain, he gathers the rest of the Meowth and pets them.

“Maybe you don’t have enough hands,” he drawl, smirking at your pout, “but together we have just enough.”

Your smile nearly blinds him, and he resigns himself to your cooing and affectionate nuzzles for the rest of the evening. What a little dork you are, but he guesses that’s why he loves you so much.

🍓🍓🍓

Nanu wouldn’t put up with my emotional ass. I love cats, but can’t have any cause my dad is allergic (and I’m thinking I might be too) so it’s a tragedy. Hope you enjoyed! Have a great day!

~Renee

[starryhyuck]

mark! (m)

pairing: dom!mark x sub!reader x dom!yuta

words: 2.2k+

summary: mark is scared of stepping out of his comfort zone with you. therefore, you enlist yuta’s help to get your boyfriend a little more comfortable.

genre: smut

warnings: threesome (kind of), anal sex, creampies, multiple orgasms, breeding kink

“I don’t think we should be doing this.”

You sigh. “Mark, stop being such a scaredy cat.”

The frown on his face is positively adorable. You want to squeeze his cheeks so badly. “I’m not a scaredy cat!” He protests, but it only makes him look more soft.

You giggle and press a kiss to his lips. “Whatever you say. Besides, Yuta won’t be back for a while. I don’t know why you’re so scared.”

“I’m not scared!” He argues again, eyebrows furrowing together in the most adorable way. “I just- this is Yuta’s bed. It’s kind of impolite to be doing anything on a place where he sleeps.”

You sigh. “Mark, I think we both know what kind of a person Yuta is. I’m pretty sure he would do the exact same thing on your bed.”

His nose scrunches as the thought passes through him.

“Ew. I didn’t need that visual.”

You flop down on Yuta’s comforter before bringing Mark with you. He’s still very reluctant, despite connecting your lips together. You try easing him up, hands moving over his shoulders as you pull him closer and closer.

Your sex life with Mark was always more than satisfying, but he was constantly scared to take risks. Being an exhibitionist yourself and considering how shy Mark could get, it was really difficult to get your boyfriend to even hold your hand in front of the other members, let alone kiss you. You’ve tried on more than one occasion to suck him off at the dinner table, but he was always too on edge that someone would walk in.

To combat your curiosity, you enlisted Yuta’s help.

Your eyes carefully watch the door as Mark’s tongue explores your mouth. Yuta stares through the small opening, watching you with a heavy glare.

You giggle into the kiss and Mark eases up a little at the sound. Your fingers dance around his neck as you pull him closer and closer, observing as Yuta casually walks into the room. Mark is too lost in you to notice.

After letting you make out for a few more minutes, Yuta finally clears his throat. You swear Mark jumps five feet in the air and scrambles away from you. His whole face is flushed pink at the sight of Yuta, quickly stuttering to provide an excuse.

Yuta raises an eyebrow. “And what were you two doing exactly?”

You blink innocently. “What do you mean?”

He smirks at your act. You’re still sprawled out on his bed, hair tangled from Mark’s fingers messily running through it. Yuta wonders how pretty you would look with his cock sliding in your mouth, beautiful lips eager to taste him. He leans closer to your frame, ignoring Mark’s surprise at his older member’s proximity to his girlfriend.

“I mean you and Mark trying to fuck on my bed.”

“W-We’re sorry, Y-Yuta!” Mark frantically says. “W-We just- I just-“

Yuta chuckles, and the deep sound shoots straight to your core.

“It’s fine, Mark. You weren’t putting on much of a show anyways. Why haven’t you touched her?”

Mark looks like his brain is going on overdrive. “W-What?”

Yuta’s fingers graze over your exposed thigh. He picked out the skirt you were wearing for this occasion, knowing it would make Mark incredibly flustered.

“Why haven’t you touched her? That’s what she wants, isn’t it?”

You quickly nod. “It’s what I want. Touch me, Yuta, please.”

Yuta grins, his eyes darting back to Mark’s. “Can I, Mark?”

You think your boyfriend is really broken. He’s nervously twitching, shaking his head as he tries to gather his thoughts. You decide to give him a little break.

“I thought Yuta could help us out a little, Mark. I asked him to come so we can have more fun.”

Yuta nods. “If you’re uncomfortable, Mark, I can leave.”

The silence in the air is deafening. Mark finally clears his throat. “Can you show m-me how you do it?”

Yuta smirks. “Do what, exactly?”

The blush fully appears on Mark’s cheeks again. “Um, how you eat her out.”

Your eyes widen. You were definitely not expecting him to say that. Yuta’s smirk widens at the request.

“Definitely. Sit down and watch.”

Yuta’s staring at your clothed core in no time, playing with the hem of your skirt. He chuckles when he sees your choice of underwear.

“Lace,” he hums playfully, snapping the elastic against your skin as you squeak. “Do you always wear such pretty panties for Mark?”

You nod, chewing on your bottom lip. “I have prettier ones in his top drawer.”

“I’d love to see them some time, doll.”

You eagerly watch as Yuta pulls down your panties, making a show as his hands slowly caress your thighs. He throws the pair of red lace to Mark, who easily catches it and groans. Yuta yanks up your skirt so he can fully gaze at your exposed cunt.

He chuckles. “You should be nicer to her, Mark. She’s got such a pretty pussy.”

You moan when his fingers play with your folds, goosebumps spreading across your skin. You quickly learn that Yuta is a tease, patient as he touches you.

“Please, Yuta,” you beg, wanting him to do something already.

His smile appears again. “What is it, doll? What do you need?”

“Need your mouth,” you whine. “And your fingers.”

You’re already turning into a blubbering mess. Mark, on the other hand, could not be more nervous. He finds this whole situation incredibly arousing, but also dangerously intimidating. He wonders if Yuta will be better than him, and if you’ll like Yuta way more than you like him. All thoughts are thrown out the window when Yuta’s tongue takes a lick up your slit. Your moans shoot straight to Mark’s hardened cock, and Mark has no doubt in his mind that he could cum in his pants right now.

He takes silent notes as Yuta teases you, never fully giving you what you want and watching as you continue to beg for him. Yuta slips a finger into your hole and you cry out, your body reacting to every single touch.

Yuta’s gaze returns to Mark. “See? She likes it when you don’t go too fast. Draw it out, make her beg.”

Mark swallows at the sudden lessons. He’s always been really quick with you, never letting you wait this long.

“Yuta, please, please,” you continue to whimper, hands reaching for him. Yuta is quick to silence you, pinning your arms to your sides.

“Be a good girl and I’ll reward you. No touching until I say so.”

You nod in submission. Mark’s eyes zero in on Yuta’s tongue exploring your folds, finger slowly pushing in and out of your weeping pussy. Mark swears he’s never heard you this wet before, the squelch of Yuta’s finger entering you echoing throughout the room. When Yuta adds a second finger, you almost lose it.

“Please please, Yuta, I want to cum. Please let me cum,” you cry.

“That’s up to Mark,” he states, and the younger boy freezes. “Can she cum, Mark?”

Your eyes are glistening with tears as you stare at your boyfriend. You whimper when Yuta furiously begins eating you out, your orgasm dangerously approaching.

“Wait, wait, wait-“

“Give her the signal, Mark,” Yuta instructs, attacking your pussy with his tongue and fingers.

Mark waits until you’re right on the edge, seconds away from sobbing. He walks over and leans down until he’s whispering in your ear.

“Cum, pretty girl.”

You fall apart, clutching your boyfriend’s arm as you clench around Yuta’s fingers. He helps you ride out your high, licking up any remnants of your orgasm.

You blearily come to your senses after that mind numbing climax, Yuta and Mark discussing quietly. There’s a faint ringing sound in your ears until Mark cups your cheeks.

“Okay?”

You giggle. “Okay.”

He laughs at your delirious state.

“Does she always get like that?” Yuta questions.

“Only when it’s really good,” he replies. His focus turns back to you. “I’m gonna fuck you now, okay?”

You giggle again. “Okay.”

He smiles fondly at you, and butterflies swell in your chest like they always do when Mark smiles at you like that.

“Make it rough,” Yuta chimes in. “I want to see her really cry.”

You’re flipped onto your stomach in no time, Mark’s fingers threading your ass. Yuta’s taken a seat not far from the bed, switching roles with Mark as he watches you this time. Mark’s thumb gently grazes over your other hole and you gasp.

Yuta’s voice is full of curiosity. “She likes it there?”

“Sometimes.” He pauses before making a decision. “Can I fuck you here, baby?”

“Yes, Mark, please.”

You can practically hear his grin. “Okay.”

Yuta tosses him the bottle of lube he keeps in his nightstand, and Mark quickly preps you. You moan when he fingers you, scissoring and stretching you to make sure you’re ready to take him.

You and Mark rarely do anal, mostly because he’s always afraid of hurting you. You know now, though, that he wants to put on a good show for Yuta.

Once you’re prepped enough, you feel the tip of his cock circling your hole. You both groan when he sinks the tip in. Unlike the other times, Mark doesn’t wait for you to adjust. He pushes into you roughly.

You cry at the intrusion, already feeling the first batch of tears painting your cheeks. Around this time, Mark usually pulls out and apologizes, checking if you’re okay. He’s turned into a completely different person in front of Yuta.

You grip the sheets as Mark relentlessly pounds into you, stretching you harder than he has before. It isn’t painful at all because even though Mark is rough with you, he always knows how to make you feel good.

You’re incoherently blubbering for him. “Y-Yes, feels so good. Feels s-so good, baby. Such a big cock inside my small little hole. So good, so good.”

Mark grunts, fingers tangling into your hair again. “Yeah? You like it when I fuck your tight little hole? You like making a show for Yuta?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you sob.

You can barely make out Yuta’s figure as he grows closer to you, wiping away the tears on your cheeks.

“Aren’t you such a pretty sight? Really selfish of Mark to keep you all to himself.”

Mark pinches your clit and you scream, diving headfirst into your second orgasm. Mark hisses as you clench even harder around him, pulling you as close as possible before shooting his cum deep inside you. You both release little moans as you recover.

Yuta laughs when you both are done. You swear you could pass out right now and sleep for at least twenty four hours straight.

The ringing sound echoes in your ears again as Mark and Yuta quietly converse once more. You whimper when Mark pulls out of you, his cum dripping down your thigh.

“Baby?” Mark’s voice pulls you out of your reverie. “Yuta wants to ask you something.”

You blink as Mark gently flips you on your back again. Yuta’s eyes grow darker.

“Are you on the pill?”

You nod.

“Can I try something?”

You nod again.

Mark leaves you to go get cleaned up and you observe as Yuta pulls his cock out, tip leaking and begging for attention. He runs his hand up and down his shaft for a few times before lining up with your pussy.

“Can I?”

You nod again, feeling too tired to form words. You gasp when Yuta pushes in, his cock much thicker than Mark’s.

“Fuck,” he curses, eyes focusing on how his cock disappears into your cunt. “So fucking perfect.”

He builds up a steady rhythm, and you finally understand what he wanted to try when he’s balls deep inside of you.

“Gonna breed you, doll. Gonna stuff my cum into your cunt until you’re dripping. Would you like that? Walking around with cum dripping out of both of your holes?”

You openly cry at his filthy words, clenching harder around him.

“Oh, pretty doll likes that. You think I’d never notice how many times you’ve tried to get Mark to fuck you while we’re eating dinner? How many times you’ve sat on his lap in the dressing rooms and tried to get him to fuck you in front of us? Naughtily little slut.”

“Yuta, Yuta,” you gasp, your third orgasm of the night building. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire.

“Want to cum? Why don’t you cum for me then? Show Mark why he should be more protective of his girl.”

You follow his command, seeing white as you cum again. Yuta’s right behind you, still hissing dirty confessions.

“Always wondered what it was like to see you stuffed full of cum. Pretty little girl, just waiting to be bred all the time. Practically made to take cock.”

He growls and with a few more snaps of his hips, he shoots his cum deep inside you. You whine as his warmth fills you, Mark’s cum still leaking out of your other hole.

You feel absolutely used when Yuta pulls away from you. You didn’t even notice Mark had entered the room again until he starts cleaning you up. You smile sleepily at him.

“I hope that was okay.”

He presses a kiss to your lips. “More than okay. Get some rest, I’ll clean you up.”

“Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

As you slowly drift off to sleep, you faintly hear Yuta say, “We should do that again, I could die a happy man in your girlfriend’s cunt.”