#underweight reader

[koshkahhh]

Hand✨️(Yes my Arthur Morgan is a bit malnurished.)

Can we talk about how fucking huge his hands are/look😦 also yes, highkey my Arthur is severely underweight but despite how many times i stop mid-game to eat and drink smth, he wont be at normal weight so idk. I think his hand looks even bigger because of how thin his lower arm is but might just be him anyway? Or its because i am not feeding him correctly? I dont know...anyways...HES STILL ONE OF T H E HOTTEST MEN EVER OUT THERE😩✨️💓

[sw-trashship]

Why nobody talks about Shin with a chubby s/o?? The guy has expressed he doesn't like being so skinny and he kinda wish for a chubby body even if he knows he can't have it.

Can you imagine how he will with a chubby partner? He would explote for fucking sure!!

[kitasuno]

with you, i'm first | miya osamu x reader

in which miya osamu is used to coming second to his brother. but with you, he's always first.

wc: 1113 | gn!reader | fluff

Miya Osamu is used to coming second. 

It starts with Atsumu, like most things do. October is cold and gray and Atsumu comes first, a small body with a large presence that fills the warm hospital room. His cries are loud and he’s a little underweight, but with him comes the sun. 

Atsumu is born under a partly cloudy sky but the nurses swear he was shrouded in sunlight. 

Osamu comes twelve minutes later. His parents are crying and his Ma is close to passing out. If he thinks really hard he can almost feel her warmth, Atsumu’s sobs, and a mumble of prayers that October has safely brought Atsumu and then Osamu.

He asks Grandma one day what the weather was like when he was born. She says, with confidence, it was foggy.

Atsumu doesn’t get along with his classmates. He is too loud and too rash and lacks social cues, and Osamu is angry because Stupid ‘Tsumu cares too little: and he wants everyone to know Atsumu like he knows Atsumu.

They fight and they yell and they argue until Atsumu says, 

‘Samu, I don’t care about ‘em. Why do ya care so much? 

And Osamu throws him across the room. The argument ends there, he says sorry, and Osamu lies awake that night thinking about his brother. Atsumu is hotheaded. And an idiot. A loud snorer, too. But he turns on his side and curls into a ball because he knows it was sunny when Atsumu was born and all of a sudden he really wants to be his brother. 

Atsumu dyes his hair first: it’s a shitty box dye from the pharmacy down the street, and it looks terrible. It’s a little yellow and a little neon, and Osamu laughs until his sides hurt when Atsumu shows him. 

But Atsumu is proud, and he is confident, and he goes to school with a hundred watt smile and a group of girls trailing after him. 

Osamu goes to the pharmacy that night and buys a box of gray, cloudy dye. Atsumu helps him bleach his hair under their bathroom sink with the faulty tap and tells him he looks like the moon.

His Ma says that Atsu is hot and Samu is cold after the two have a particularly bad fight. Atsumu is gleeful and smug as he gloats that he was born to be hotter and warmer and better, and Osamu punches him. 

He remembers his Ma sitting on the porch, an arm around his shoulders as he pouts. 

“‘S not fair,” Osamu had said, his chin in his palm. “Why’d ya name Tsumu that?” 

His Ma had laughed, quietly, leaning her weight into his side. And she had held his cheeks between her palms and told him with a fire in her eyes that Osamu means To Rule. 

He meets you for the first time in February. 

You were standing in front of him, a little sheepish, with a box of chocolates in your extended palms. He remembers feeling something heavy in his chest. Because, yeah, Atsumu was definitely going to accept your confession. 

You had said, IReallyLikeYou, and Here’sSomeChocolates, and Please Accept Them. 

You were shorter than him, and your hair was done nicely, and you were blushing and nervous. And you were really fucking cute. But Osamu is used to coming second, so the only thing that comes out of his mouth is, Why? And then, Tsumu’s in tha next classroom ov’r. 

He doesn’t remember what happened next, only Atsumu’s laugh and the slap echoing through the halls. You leave with his cheeks stinging and hot. And Atsumu had teased him the next day, behind his mountain of chocolates and confessions, because Osamu’s face was still red twelve hours later. 

He sees you a lot the year after. 

You’re in the same class as him and ‘Tsumu, and you smile every time you see him. You sit two rows in front of him and you’re not very good at tying your uniform. Every lunch, Osamu watches you pull out the same gray bento with a wrapped onigiri on the side. He tells you one day that he really likes onigiri. And then, Osamu watches as every lunch, you pull out the same gray bento with two wrapped onigiris on the side. 

With you, it’s always Hi Osamu, first, and then, Hullo Atsumu. With you, it’s an onigiri dropped on his desk when the lunch bell rings. With you, Osamu thinks back to a conversation with his Ma on a porch. 

Osamu means To Rule.

The menu is this: Tuna mayo on Mondays and Thursdays, Ume on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Friday is plain. You don’t ever bring onigiri for his brother. 

He asks you, on a hot night in June, what your favorite type of weather is. You had your knees tucked to your chest, a sparkler in hand, and then told him cloudy. Cold. Foggy. Winter. Snow is nice, too. You say it all with no hesitation. 

Osamu kisses you for the first time that night. 

It’s New Years and you’re cooking Ozoni on the stove. The curtains are open, it’s snowing outside, and Osamu wakes to the smell of miso and the sound of carrots on a chopping board. He gets out of bed, padding to the kitchen with half-lidded eyes and a stifled yawn, and then he thinks his heart stops when he sees you. 

Because what Miya Osamu is not used to is this: coming first and having something unequivocally his. 

But you’re bent over the counter, fiddling with the oven as you read the instructions on the back of the packaged Yakimochi you bought the other day. And you’re wearing his shirt, it falls right below your thighs, your hair is still messy from using his chest as a pillow, and you look beautiful. 

“Mornin’ ‘Samu, come help me with this.” You say, looking back at him with a smile, pointing to the fresh pot of rice on the counter. “You’re in charge of onigiri.”

He hugs you instead, his arms around your stomach with your back to him. 

“But I like yer onigiri,” He says, his chin on your head. His eyes are watering and it must be from the steam of your boiling dashi. 

“‘Samu,” You complain, giggling as he presses kisses into the crown of your head. “I made enough for ya in high school.” 

It’s cold outside and snowing, and Osamu knows he’s going to make the onigiri. 

He also knows that if his name means To Rule, he’s okay with coming second if it means you’re by his side.

[cosmos-coma]

My Sun, My Star

A/N: I'm so weak for Winter soldier Bucky. I cant wait to write more of him, I love this sad guilt ridden man.

Pairing: Winter Soldier!Bucky x Reader

Words: 6756

Warnings: Breaking and entering, Minor violence, Injury and Blood, Winter soldier Bucky, GN reader but also Pregnant reader, mild language, I'm not sure if this is fluff or angst or both??

Summary: You wait up late for your boyfriend Bucky to return from his mission, but it isn't Bucky who finds you.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue | Bucky Masterlist

Like what I do? Consider buying me a Coffee!

________________

Your eyes blinked slowly, heavier with each passing second, yet you still managed to open them once again. Glancing at the bright white numbers of the digital clock you watched it change to 1:46 AM, causing a groan to pull from your lips. Bucky was supposed to be back tonight (yesterday technically) from his latest mission, but he still had yet to show up at your shared flat. 

You checked your phone again, the lack of notifications mocking your tired eyes. You let out one more sigh before you turned off the mindless babbling of the TV and stood up to get ready for bed. You were sure Bucky wouldn’t want you waiting up so late in your current condition anyway, he had been harping you about getting enough sleep and water and everything in between.

“I’m only four months pregnant, Bucky. I’m fully capable of staying up late” You had said to him. 

“Five months, Doll, and it’s about your cortisol levels. It’s not good for you or the baby, and it could lead to them being underweight” he said, reciting exactly what the doctor had told him during your last checkup. 

“Four and a half,” you argued as you stuck your tongue out at him, “and she was talking about getting chased by a bear kind of stress, not staying up to watch Bake Off.” 

You snorted at the memory of just earlier that week, a small smile coming to your face as you went through your nightly routine. You continued to check your phone here and there as you went, “Did you get back safe? How’d your mission go?” you had texted two hours ago, yet it still remained unread and unanswered.  

‘Maybe one more quick text wouldn’t hurt,’  you thought to yourself as you typed out the simple message and hit send. 

“Stay safe, okay? I love you.”

You sighed as you set the phone down, “it’s okay, everything is okay,” you assured yourself as you pulled one of his large hoodies over your head, enjoying the way the hem brushed against your bare thighs and the sleeves threatened to swallow your hands. “He’s a former assassin and a super soldier! Nothing is going to happen that he can’t handle,” You stated firmly to your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes remained unsure despite your voice’s conviction, but you did your best to ignore it, focusing instead on the achingly tired look they held. 

“Yes, I know. It’s finally time for bed, little one,” you mumbled sleepily as you felt your baby kick against the walls of your protruding belly, being quick to climb between the layers of blankets and lonesome sheets. “Fuck, that's cold…!” you swore quietly as your bare legs hit the icy fabric- having gone unwarmed by your personal space heater and super soldier.

Thankfully sleep came easily, the thought of waking up to Bucky’s sleepy, scruffy face only further urged your body to wind down so the moment would come sooner. 

----

Bucky’s phone buzzed again in his bag, lighting up with your smiling face as your text displayed on the screen, but nobody reached down to check it, as everyone found themselves in a far more urgent situation. 

“Keep him busy, Rodgers! I just need one more minute!” Tony yelled as he dug through the equipment in the quinjet, “For fuck’s sake, who organized this last?” 

“What do you think I’m doing…!” The blond grunted with a justified hint of frustration,” Sam? Any help??” He shouted with a pointed look, telling more than asking as he struggled to restrain his thrashing friend. A swift metal fist flew toward his already battered face, barely giving him time to duck out of the way and attempt to restrain it again. 

“Honestly? Seems like you’ve got this one,” Sam said, holding up his hands.

“SAM.” 

“I’m coming..! God, can’t either of you old men take a joke?”

No one knew exactly what happened, Bucky had gone off on his own in the Hydra base they were exploring. It was supposed to have been recently abandoned, something about the agents leaving in an urgent rush that left files upon files sitting out in the open. It was supposed to be a simple mission; everyone goes off in teams, gathers what they can, and makes sure there are no surprises. But Bucky assured them that he would be fine to go on his own, he hadn’t had a sign of relapse in over a year, and he would only be picking up what looked important. A simple job.

He should’ve listened. 

It was when he didn’t return to the jet with the rest of them that they started to get worried. 

“So, where’s the Manchurian candidate?” Tony jested, looking at his watch. They were supposed to leave maybe 10 minutes ago, not terribly late by any means, but enough to start getting worried about Bucky’s quietness over the coms.  

“Man, come on.. ” Sam sighed at Tony’s joke as he crossed his arms. 

“Bucky?” Steve tried calling over the coms, ignoring both of his teammates, but the line remained all too quiet. 

They found him finally in the basement level of the office building, old discarded computers lining the walls along with cabinets upon cabinets of old files and other equipment. He hadn’t even realized it was a trap until he stepped right into it, triggering a switch that had the computers and hidden speakers flashing images and sounds that assaulted his senses with fragmented memories long forgotten. 

He should have listened. 

Sam had found him first, on his knees in the middle of the floor with hands desperately covering his ears, trying to block out the incessant noise. Hauling his teammate to his feet, he rushed back to the jet, calling everyone off from their search before anything else could be sprung. 

At first, they thought he might be fine- quiet, but fine. He had given them a small smile and a wave of his hand as everyone tried to check in with him, taking a seat as the jet took off to go home. It had all seemed relatively normal until they were halfway back and the unseen battle inside him must have taken a turn. 

“Got it!” Tony yelled as he pulled out the dart gun, aiming quickly as he fired two shots into Bucky’s chest, readying a third as he waited and watched for the tranquilizers to finally take effect. It was slow as Bucky continued to struggle against the drug’s drain, his body and mind turning into slow-moving molasses. Low grunts emanated from his throat as the last of his strength ebbed away, leaving nothing but forced sleep in its wake. 

“Was two really necessary?” Steve asked as his shoulders finally relaxed, the strain and worry now temporarily over. 

Together they dragged the drugged-up assassin into the jet’s small quarantine area for the remainder of the trip, satisfied only when they heard the mechanical locks slide into place. It wasn’t much, and they knew that and if he really wanted to there would be no stopping him from getting out, but it was something- enough to give them a few seconds of preparation if nothing else.  

“I’m not giving a super soldier only a single dose, you two metabolize things like this way too fast and I’m not taking any chances with the Tin man over there.”

Bucky- no, the Winter Soldier, seemed to still be out of it when they finally landed, sat up and leaning against the wall, head slumped forward just as they had left him. 

“Alright, let's just get him into one of the holding rooms for the night. We’ll work on resetting him-” Tony lifted his hands as the two men glared in his direction, “- on ‘fixing him up’ as soon as he’s been secured.” 

Sam shook his head as Tony corrected himself, taking notice of the lit-up phone in Bucky’s bag, buzzing with an only recently delivered message. Sam had quickly become one of your closest friends after you were introduced to the team. He was one of the few people Bucky trusted with his life and between his sarcastic jokes, his incredibly loyal nature, and his willingness to give Bucky shit whenever he deserved it, you knew very quickly how great a friend he would be. 

But now his stomach twisted as he saw your name flash across the screen, the alert quickly minimizing itself as it joined the other messages you had sent that night. How was he gonna break this to you? The last thing you needed was a bunch of unnecessary stress on your shoulders, but it’s obvious you were beginning to worry over their late return. Sliding the phone back into its rightful place Sam told himself that he’d call you once they had things more figured out.

“Heart rate still seems to be resting. With any luck, he’ll remain knocked out until we get inside,” Tony relayed as he monitored the Soldier’s vitals and pressed the button to open the heavy quarantine doors.

The doors slid into their resting positions with a soft click. 

As soon as that click landed on sensitive ears, vibrant blue eyes shot open. Sparing not even a second, the Winter Soldier surged forward from his seat, not nearly as far gone as he left them to believe. With the element of surprise, the Soldier easily knocked past his teammates, throwing his body weight against them and knocking Sam and Steve off balance, leaving him a good headstart as he dashed out the jet’s open door.

“Fuck, Bucky- Wait!,” Steve swore as he stumbled out behind him, having to use his super soldier speed just to keep pace. But between the settled darkness of the night, and the winding alleyways the brunette stuck to, Steve was left falling behind in no time. “Shit,” Steve swore as he slowed to a stop, looking around for any sign of his compromised friend. 

However, the streets lay barren, the fluttering of moths in the streetlights the only sign of life on the entire block.

---

The heavy thud of his boots echoed against the alleyway’s pavement. He wasn't sure where exactly he was headed as his silhouette slunk between the warm light of the streetlamps, but part of him- a currently repressed part of him- knew that safety was bound to be just ahead. 

His heart beat smoothly as he kept his pace, every other step falling in time as he rounded the corner. Blindly, he let himself be led by instinct and his feet maneuvered the city’s countless paths with a mind of their own. They slowed before a little apartment building and as those emotionless eyes looked up, he knew this was it.

The lateness of the hour had almost assured that no one was around as he slipped inside, footsteps padding up the stairs before stopping at the third floor. His heavy boots left nothing but wet prints in their wake as he wandered down the hall, impossibly silent, as even the notoriously creaky boards dared not announce his presence. 

The closer he got, the more the back of his mind itched, as if something- someone- was begging him not to go any further, but he refused to listen; he knew this was where he was meant to be and where he would find what his body was so inexplicably drawn to.

With each step his head turned on a swivel, looking for the sense of safety and familiarity that the other half of him seemed to find here- and desperately wished he wouldn’t discover. Just as his foot was about to take another step he stopped. ‘No. Here.’ His gut told him, turning to the door. 

His door.

Your door.

The former assassin bypassed the lock with ease, quickly slipping in before shutting the door behind him. A dim light illuminated the living room, the little lamp you left on for him casting its orange glow over his surroundings as he surveyed them.

A few mugs stand beside the sink, framed photos dot the wall and side tables, and a veritable nest of blankets lay across the couch. It was obvious someone had been here, and recently. A deep breath pulled into his lungs, causing his head to tilt to the side in contemplation as an unfamiliar scent hit his nose, something just as earthy as it was sweet and speckled with distant notes of… him?

“Hmmph”  

His sensitive ears picked up the soft grunt from down the hall immediately. His shoulders squared and tensed as his body leaned into a defensive position. Cautious fingers pulled the knife from his boot, ready for whatever may come at him as he approached. 

The sounds of soft breaths lead him to a door left ajar. Light just slipped past the curtains into the darkened room. Badum… Badum… Badum… a heartbeat pulsed in his ears as he took a step closer, leaving the door open and letting further light fall onto the source of the noise. 

His wolfish gaze ran down your form as you lay there on your back, swallowed in the extra fabric of the old sweatshirt. Your hand rested casually over your stomach as your other one squished gently against your cheek. Your legs lay bare to the world after having kicked the overbearing sheets away, leaving just a glance of your underwear for him to take in.  

“Mmph” You grunted again as you shifted, your face now turned to him as that earthy scent of yours gripped him like a vice and refused to let go.

Your sweet sleep became interrupted though- much to his dismay- as the phone on your nightstand began to light up and buzz incessantly. Still, as a statue he watched as you groaned, propping yourself up on your elbows as you went to check what your device could possibly want at this ungodly hour. 

With one loose fist, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes away, blinking consciousness back into them until you saw Bucky’s illuminated figure before you, standing tall and quiet as he watched you intently. 

“Bucky..?” You couldn’t hide the grin that spread across your face as you saw the familiar face of your lover lit up by the bright light of your phone screen. But the longer you looked the more you noticed.

His eyes were all wrong, his gaze was devoid, that’s the only way you could put it. Devoid of meaning and humanity, it seemed every gaze- every movement- was a means to an end. Empty… save for a flicker of fear; It was probably the only thing in those eyes right now that registered as human. The fear of someone who was lost, unknowing of their purpose, and confused as to why your gaze was made his cold heart falter.

His expression was flat and stoic, save for the knit of confusion that pulled his brows together. His stance was tense and prepared, the discrete knife still glittering in his hands as he took another step forward, his head slowly shaking in response to your question. 

A gasp caught in your throat as you finally understood. Glancing at your phone you saw it was Sam who was calling, undoubtedly trying to tell you what you now already knew.

“Soldat…” You whispered, trying to hide the way his name sent shivers across your skin. Your phone went black then, as you didn’t pick up in time and you were left blind by the sudden darkness.

 You and Bucky had talked about what to do if you found him like this, “You call Sam and Steve, Okay? You find a place to hide and you stay far away, no matter what you hear. There’s no reasoning with him,” He had told you.

So much for that

Your phone lit up again with Sam’s urgent call, its revealing light sending ice down your spine as you saw the man nearly standing over you now, just a hair’s breadth away.

Your hand rose slowly, shaking as you tested a reach for your phone, stopping dead in your tracks as he let out a disapproving grunt. Your head nodded slowly as you gulped, returning your hand to your stomach as you watched his gaze finally shift away. 

With unbothered calmness, he looked toward your phone to see Sam’s face and name scrawled across your screen. Wordlessly he reached over and pressed the ‘decline call’ button, cutting the call short and leaving you two in perfect silence once more. 

Panic began to rise in your throat as his gaze turned back toward you, darkened now only by the lack of light. With slow movements the Winter Soldier reached out, putting the knife away as he crouched down, as if trying to attract a skittish animal. 

Your whole body tensed as his reach came closer, eyes screwing shut as you waited for the worst, “Please… Just don’t hurt her…” You whispered, fear and desperation rattling your voice, just as it did your anxiety-filled body. 

But the pain never came. Instead, the cool touch of metal fingers ran down your cheek, barely denting your flesh as he relished in its softness. Your eyes peeked open cautiously, as his fingers moved along the slope of your jaw, tilting your head up as he came to your chin. 

His eyes had changed, you noticed, instead of being a harsh blizzard, they had now settled into something more human, something warmer and… yearning? 

“Soldat..?” You questioned as you watched his lips part, his senses focused only on the way your body reacted to his touch. You were sure he could hear the rapid pattering of your heart beneath your ribs, its pace only increasing as his fingers moved down your neck and to the exposed collarbone in your loose neckline.

“Красивый [Beautiful]...,” was all he could reply. It came out so soft you weren’t sure you heard it at first, it’s quiet reverence meant for your ears and your ears only. “Из-за тебя он чувствует себя здесь в безопасности...? Замки дерьмовые, видимость слишком высокая, но ты… [Are you why he feels safe here…? The locks are shit, the visibility is too high, but you…]” He continued, quiet and unbothered as if he assumed you couldn’t understand him. 

“He’s been bugging me to get better locks all week…” you replied with a huff, quickly shutting up as his stare found your eyes again. Between Bucky’s ramblings in the night and Natasha’s tendency to only gossip in Russian, you had made an effort to learn it; You were still learning, and your pronunciation was shit, but your understanding had gotten far better. 

“And you have a good ear…” He spoke in English this time, the vague hint of an amused smile pulling at the assassin’s stern lips. You couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever done that before. If that odd little smile had been seen by anyone else- anyone still living that is.

A breath of relief left you as your lips stretched to mimic his, the tension easing out of your body a little by little.

His metallic touch continued to linger, running down your covered chest until it settled on the waistband of your underwear, the cool metal trailing across your ticklish skin. 

“Ah, wait, Sol-” You jumped at his touch, grabbing his wrist, despite knowing you wouldn’t have the strength to stop him if it’s what he wanted.

But instead of dipping his fingers lower, he simply tugged the oversized hoodie up, gathering it over your chest and exposing the firm baby bump concealed below. His head tilted to the side as he listened to the tiny heartbeat that fluttered in your belly as well as the thuds of its little movements against your skin. Slowly, still with that inkling of a smile, he turned to look at you, his hand hovering just above your vulnerable midsection as if awaiting permission. 

Heat rose to your cheeks as you hesitated. On one hand, you felt a surprising amount of calm under the assassin's touch, his need for your approval only increasing your sense of security. But on the other hand, Bucky would never be able to live with himself if something happened to you or the baby, accident or not. 

“Oh. I-” 

CRASH.

You nearly jumped out of your skin as were cut short by the loud noise. The door to your apartment slammed open, surely breaking the hinges with the sheer force of it. Over a dozen heavy boots stormed into your apartment as the lights turned on, flooding your senses and forcing the Soldier’s attention elsewhere. 

Your hand found his instantly, the heat of his calloused skin a comfort to you just the way Bucky’s was, especially as it squeezed around yours just the same. Sitting up properly now your sweatshirt swallowed your pregnant form once again and you peeked out to see just what was going on. 

Through The Winter Soldier’s defensive stance in front of you, his knife is now drawn once more, you watched a small armed group, covered in black tactical gear raid your home, all guns pointing towards you- or more accurately- the former assassin attempting to shield you. You recognized the symbols on their vests as the team’s secondary security force, having even met a few of them over the years. But where was the rest of the team? Where was Sam, and Steve, and Tony?

“Step away from the civilian!” “Put your hands in the air!” “Sir, drop the knife!” They all shouted, overlapping with each other as each of them rushed out their demands. 

“Don't shoot! It’s okay! It’s okay!” You rushed.

You tried to slip your hand from his, but he only held fast, “Soldat, please… It’s okay, just do what they say… They don’t want to hurt us. Please,” You urged, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, 

His defenses faltered as he listened to you beg him to stand down. It wasn’t the usual begging he heard in his line of work, and coming from your lips had his walls cracking in an unprecedented way. 

He shouldn’t have looked back at your eyes, wide and pleading, as they shook his walls further. Moving slowly he turned, kneeling before you despite the way the armed group yelled at him not to. You just held up your hand to them, pleading for them to be as gentle with him as he was with you. 

“Мое солнце [My Sun]...” The warm flesh of his hand came up easily to cradle your face and a small smile pulled at him again as you leaned into his large palm. “Я только что нашел тебя. Я не потеряю тебя снова так быстро[I’ve only just found you. I will not lose you again so quickly]. ”

Your heart both swelled and pained for your Soldier. You looked into his eyes and saw a sense of certainty, a sense of knowing, you hadn’t seen from him earlier. “Oh… my soldier, my star,” Your fingers entwined with the hand holding your cheek, ”You can not lose me in any way that would last…” You whispered to him past the shouts, the commotion, and the tension, like you were the only two in the room. 

“Sir, put the knife down!” A young squad member called again, his voice far more concerned than his superiors. You didn’t recognize him or his number and you figured he must’ve been new. His gun trembled in his hands as he shouted again, but as the Soldier failed to move and the kid’s finger unexpectedly twitched, there came a sudden- 

BANG.

“Ah-!” Your face twisted with pain as you pulled away, “Fuck…!” Your hands instinctively grabbed your leg, clamping over the shooting pain in your calf that hit you- well- like a bullet. 

You winced again as you pulled one of your hands back, the raw skin of your leg angrily letting you know that it did not like being brushed against. Warm, wet crimson covered your fingers as you looked down, becoming slightly dizzy at how much had already covered your palm. You were thankful it only seemed to be a graze, but the burn you already felt and knowing you were losing blood had your stomach lurching in uncomfortable ways. 

Concern painted the assassin’s expression as you recoiled away from his doting touch, but as the unmistakable warm, metallic smell curled into his nose, his expression darkened dramatically. What was once kind, curious blue eyes now saw nothing but red as he caught sight of the wound slashing across your skin. His jaw set firmly, almost audibly grinding his teeth as he stood and turned to the young kid. 

You looked back at the newcomer as you tried to breathe through the pain, the horrified look on his face telling you that he knew he was a dead man walking. His face went ghost white as the super soldier stalked toward him and through even worse trembling hands he raised his gun to shoot again. 

“No…!”

A sickening thud rang out as the bullet hit the assassin square in his good shoulder, getting lodged in the muscly flesh. His shoulder jerked back at the force, but it wouldn’t stop his stride as he closed the gap. Another shot rang out, but with the solid vibranium arm now covering the barrel it did little to help this poor dumb kid. Snatching him by the neck, you watched as your assassin held him up until his feet kicked uselessly in the air. 

Every gun immediately trained on him and with their proximity you knew they wouldn’t miss a fatal shot if it came to it.

“Stop! Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! Soldier, put him down!” You yelled as you maneuvered towards the edge of the bed. “Please, don't shoot, I can fix this!” you continued, trying to convince yourself as much as you convinced them. Familiar voices joined in on your plea as Sam and Steve finally entered the picture, urgently trying to talk down both the Winter Soldier and the secondary security team. 

“Bucky, It’s okay... Just put the kid down, alright?” Steve tried to reason with him, “He’s new, he doesn’t know what he’s doing yet.” Steve tried his best to stay calm and patient, but the young man was beginning to change colors now. “Bucky, put him down before you do something you can’t come back from.” But Bucky’s ears were deaf to the outside pleas and the Winter soldier refused to listen.

“Ah..!” You whimpered as you tried to stand and approach the commotion. The pain in your leg reached new heights as you tried to put weight on it, causing you to tumble to your knees almost immediately. You clutched your belly, hoping the sudden jostle wouldn’t upset the baby too much as you tried to get up again. 

“Hold on, Y/n. Stay down for a minute so we can wrap your leg…” Sam asked of you, moving over to help as soon as he saw the blood on your hands, “You’re losing plenty already.”

“No, I have to…. I can’t let him get hurt,” you argued, pushing away his helpful hands as you tried to stand again. You heard the crashing thud and rushed voices as you shakily got to your feet, leaning all your weight on your good leg. As you looked up again you came eye to eye with worry-filled icy blues.

“Sol-”

“Мое солнце  [My Sun]...” He interrupted, his metal arm snaking around your waist to pull you in possessively and away from those who threatened your safety. On the other side of the room, the nervous kid now coughed and wheezed for breath, but you were just happy to see he was still alive. 

“Please just listen to them. You’re already hurt, don’t get yourself killed…” you pleaded, your hand barely brushing over his bleeding wound before pulling his hand to your rounded belly. He tried to keep his expression steady, but you saw the way his eyes widened slightly as he looked down. “She needs someone looking out for her and I can’t do this on my own. I can’t keep away all the dangers of the world…” Your forehead rested against his as you tried to shift your weight, whining as you gave up and moved back. You couldn’t deny that this part of Bucky was her father too, even if he had been hidden away for ages, she was still his too. Whether Bucky would see it the same way you weren’t sure, but right now you were just concerned with making sure he got out of this alive. 

“I can’t do this without you…” 

The silence felt deafening as he considered. He never had to think about other people relying on him, not like this. His orders had always been to leave no threats, to finish his job and move on, no matter the cost to him. But the pain in his soft, fleshy shoulder was getting harder to ignore. The way his blood-soaked shirt clung to his arm now climbed to the forefront of his mind as he watched your big eyes stare back at him, desperate to understand. He was between a rock and a hard place. 

“I’ll be right beside you the whole time..” You assured him, “We both will, but please let everyone get us some help.” 

A gentle nudge pushed against his palm as his thoughts swirled around him, snapping him back to a single line of thought and he knew then. Defeat laid heavy on his shoulders as they slumped, accepting what must be done., “Мое солнц [My Sun] …”, He said, “Если вы так хотите, то я не буду жаловаться [If it is what you wish, then I will not complain].” 

You couldn’t tell just how long you had been holding the breath you let out, your muscles relaxing as he finally held his hands up. The security squad began coming forward with an array of cuffs, but it was Sam who stopped them this time, glancing back at you for confirmation as he assured them that they could take it from here. Despite the arguing and the hesitation, they seemed to relent, shifting their focus now to their injured colleague. 

Both Sam and Steve looked tired but relieved as they turned to the two of you, bloody and pained in your current state. Though they weren’t quite better; both of them looked like they had been the unfortunate punching bag of a certain super soldier mere hours before. Sam had bruises lining his arms from where he was surely blocking blow after blow and Steve smiled a bit with his busted lip, dried blood still stuck in the corner of his mouth.

“Let’s get you two to the tower…” 

----

The journey to the tower was quiet, your soldier never letting you out of arms reach as you all boarded the armored truck, and made your way up the tower and to the lab. 

Doctors tried to treat the both of you, but as soon as anyone dared to come close your assassin was right there to growl them back. They’d hardly be able to get past his possessive hands even if they could manage to get close, his touch keeping you pulled beside him at all times.

“Soldat…” you warned him, but he was too preoccupied gathering the medical bag they had been dropped. Coming over to you, there was no warning as he scooped you up from the ground and set you on a table to get to work. 

“Oh-!” You exclaimed as you held onto his strong shoulder, quickly getting plopped back down on the corner of the cold metal table. A shiver ran down your skin as you shifted against the sleek table, watching as practiced hands scoured through the medical bag, producing everything he needed as he went about fixing up your leg wordlessly. 

You were beyond thankful for the haze of the (baby-safe) painkillers as his fingers slid over the raw flesh. Despite the gentle numbing of the painkiller your fingers still lay tangled in his hair as he worked, only tugging in discomfort as the gauze wrapped tightly around your leg.

"Thank you..” You said when he finally finished, moving back to appreciate his work before giving it a satisfactory nod. His eyes had grown distant again, bits of confusion and uncertainty swirling in the storm of his eyes, and you reached out to stroke your thumb across his cheek. His stony cool expression remained as you touched him, his mouth staying a firm line as he instinctively leaned into your palm. You watched him for a moment before you continued, knowing that his thoughts must be far away.

“It's your turn now, big guy.... your shoulder is still seeping and you can’t keep losing blood like this," You urged him just as you had on the ride to the tower. He had refused to listen then, letting nothing else occupy his mind until he knew you were fully taken care of. But now as you sit safely before him, the only looming threats being Sam and Steve who seem to haunt the hallway outside, he finally relented.

You moved to stand, needing the angle to effectively dig out the bullet still lodged in his muscles, but he held you still with a single large hand on your shoulder, "Stay," he urged you with that low rumble of his. His eyes lingered on yours, ensuring you would do as he asked before he began to move again, gathering the supplies you would need.

He slid his bloody shirt off, revealing the weeping wound beneath and the scars of many wounds past. You expected him to stand in front of you, maybe sit so you could take care of him, but that didn’t seem to be the important thing right now.

He climbed up onto the cold table where you sat, curling onto his side with his back facing the door so his wounded shoulder sat closest to you. His head lay in your lap with a look of unmatched serenity as he pressed his forehead against your rounded belly. And there he rested, quiet and unmoving as he took his quiet moment. But he was far too exposed like this, far too trusting of “threats” lurking outside, and he almost reminded you of Bucky again. Was Bucky fighting to come back…? Was the Winter Soldier trusting you to watch his back? … or was he accepting of something you weren't sure he knew yet?

"Are you sure? It's going to be harder to take the bullet out this way. I don’t want to hurt you more than I have to," you tried to explain as you pulled out the forceps.

But he simply shook his head, "I know my time here is short, my Sun..." he said with an even tone, no semblance of fear to shake his voice, "Please let me enjoy it like this…."

Your voice caught in your throat as he answered, his blunt acceptance and knowing catching you off guard. You wished beyond anything that you could soothe him, to tell him no one was going to hurt him or take him away again. But you wouldn’t lie to him, so instead you said nothing, Your words rasping as you replied, "Of course, My star…."

The room was quiet as you worked, the only noise the sweet mumblings from your boyfriend's lips as he filled your baby’s ears with loving promises. His body let out a grunt and a soft squelch as you finally tugged the crushed bullet out. Pain creased his brow but his words never faltered and neither did the nudges or kicks he got in reply.

Carefully you cleaned up the blood, packing the wound as best you could, but you were sure Tony and his team would be redoing it soon nonetheless.

A sigh escaped him as he heard you putting away your tools, "My Sun?" he asked.

"Yes?"

“Is it time…?”

You cast your eyes downward, looking into those confused and swirling blues as they watched you with unbridled hope.

You nodded, wiping away the tears that welled in your eyes, “It’s time…” you whispered.

He nodded, thinking quietly as he looked down at your belly again, his hand smoothing over the skin he’s exposed, “Will I see you two again…?” 

Your heart broke at the slight waver in his voice, “Oh, my star…” you said, resting your palm against his cheek, “It’s just like I said, ‘you can not lose me in any way that would last’. I’ll see you again and again, in this life and the next,” you assured as you leaned down to kiss his temple, a small smile forming at the corners of his lips. Tears blinked from your eyes as you continued, “I don’t know when, or for how long, but you will see us again. You can always come home to me, and I will always be there to welcome you.” You leaned, slow as not to scare him, and kissed him gently as he turned again to look at you.

 It was awkward at first, but you didn’t mind, you couldn’t imagine the last time the Winter Soldier had felt such gentleness, let alone a kiss. 

But the moment was ripped away as the door opened, Steve, Sam, and Tony all standing in the doorway. “We’re ready for him,” Tony said simply, “Let's get this started so my lab techs can go home….” 

-----

You watched behind thick glass as Tony and his team of technicians attached various wires and machinery to Bucky’s body. Sam and Steve’s hands lie on your shoulders, trying to comfort you as you watch them finish tuning and placing everything. You watched as his blue eyes stared vacantly at the ceiling, as still as a statue as he let them do their work.

“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to watch this…” Steve tried to comfort you, but you only shook your head. 

“No… I promised I’d see him off,” you replied, then thought with a pause, “Despite all the warnings Bucky gave me I’m happy I got to see him face to face…” 

“Well, it helps that he wasn’t trying to beat the shit out of you…” Sam mumbled, getting an immediate nudge from you right in one of his bruises, “ Ow…okay, point taken.”

You smiled and shook your head. It was true though; despite the fear, blood, and death that dripped from his moniker, despite the pain you endured in his presence, you would do it all again. Bucky had hidden this part of him from you for so long, only ever showing you half of his face. And though you know he wouldn’t like it, you’re happy to finally see him in full light- to know and love him completely as he’s meant to be.

Tony says something that’s hard to make out through the glass, but you see him give a thumbs up to you all so he must have been ready. He moved to the switch, hesitating for a moment to let you say a quick goodbye. 

Your Soldier’s eyes found yours right away, but there was no trace of sorrow for you to see, no discomfort or fear. In fact, he seemed almost excited; excited and hopeful that when he saw you next he’d have a bundle of joy to look forward to as well. 

“Мое солнце [My Sun]...” you watched him say beyond the glass.

“I’ll see you again, My stars. I’m sure of it…” You replied with a soft smile.

He had just enough time to smile softly back at you, an image now pleasantly etched in your brain before Tony flipped the switch and the reset procedure began. 

You covered your eyes quickly as Bucky’s body began to convulse, his strained grunts and shouts breaching containment despite the way he tried to hold it all back. The sounds of pain continued for minutes, but it felt far longer. Though, it wasn’t until it got quiet that you began to worry. 

“Is it done? Is it over...?” You asked the men on either side of you, afraid to peek past your hands for fear of the worst.

“Doll…?” you heard the familiar voice call, gritty and rough from its recent use but still carrying that same soft tone he used with you.

Your heart swelled, “Bucky...?”

_____________

Taglist: @writingmysanity @simpxinnie (sorry I forgot to tag!)

It's been a while since I've written for our favorite sad man, so if I've missed you/you want to be added to the taglist, DM me to let me know!

[etfrin]

❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — prologue | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | coriolanus is his own warning, mentions of death, elitism, self harm (Coryo burns his wrist)

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 eight year old Coryo finds out who his soulmate is and his feelings about it

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 this is the first official post about this series that I started on a whim! I am excited to see where this goes, please give me feedback, thank you!

series taglist | series masterlist | navigation

It started with Sejanus. Despite being friends with the boy, eight-year-old Coriolanus Snow couldn't help but loathe the fact the boy had District blood.

Sejanus' presence in the Capitol Academy was an insult to all of Capitol. He couldn't comprehend how it was all allowed before he heard the whispers. Sturbo Plinth bought his way in with money.

Money. The one thing a Snow should be entitled to and yet has none of. Even the power his name held was dwindling. Coriolanus will do anything to make sure ‘Snow lands on top'.

With that vow, Coryo gently brushed his thumb over the tattoo on his wrist. A number, something of significance for his soulmate. Whenever he felt overwhelmed, he traced over the dark lines. He felt instantly calm.

Everything is going to be alright.

His soulmate will be a princess, a goddess, a rich Capitol girl no one can compare to. He will have a happy ending with her. Snows will rise on top, and his girl will be beside him every step of the way. The First Lady of Panem as he will be the president.

He vividly remembers the day all of his hopes were crushed. It was a couple of weeks after Sejanus started attending the academy. The boy was mocked by everyone, and Coriolanus thought it was deserved, a district boy was nothing more than an animal.

Then came the district girl, this one from District One, the district closest to the Capitol. But still not the same. The girl from the district was the prettiest he had ever seen. Although she's district. She had claimed the hearts of the teachers, and in return received many privileges. It was rumored that even the dean had a soft spot for her.

It was understandable why. She was a girl with a sweet smile, a secret sharp tongue, and hidden cruelty in her eyes he wasn't sure anyone saw except him. Her eyes always softened when she looked at him but she was always friendlier with Sejanus. Pea in a pod sticks together after all.

It was a bright day, a hot summer making him sweat in his uniform more than the walk to the academy did. That was the day he felt his heart break, and soul crushed. It was completely by accident. Sejanus and you thinking that maybe, you were soulmates. And Coriolanus thought so too, after all, you both were so close, attached to the hip.

Coriolanus felt like he was intruding into something private whenever he was near you both. With your shared giggles and secret smiles, you were as close as children could be.

When you raise your shirt sleeve revealing your soulmate's tattoo, the date is meant to be the most significant to your soulmate. Sejanus didn't recognize it but Coriolanus did, much to his nightmare.

It was the date most important to him. It was the day of his mother's and unborn sister's death. The day he lost someone he held so close to his heart. That's the number etched on your skin.

No. No! He grabbed your wrist, ignoring your yelp and the protest from Sejanus. His eyes were wide and he felt his body shake. “No. . .” He whispered, a sob in his throat.

“What's wrong?” You asked, trying to get your hand out of his hold, and due to his weak, underweight body, you did it easily enough. You rub your wrist and wait for Coryo's answer.

You don't get one because Coriolanus Snow had turn away and begun to walk away from you and Sej.

When he reached his home, his body was shaking and fat drops of tears falling from his eyes. A district girl as his? Never, never in a thousand years. His dead father would have been so disappointed. He refused to accept her as his.

He won't. Ever.

Tigris tried to ask what happened, but Coryo ignored her. He went into the kitchen, turning on the stove. The fire burned blue and orange. He didn't hesitate, ignoring the scream from Tigris as he put his wrist forward. He bit his lips to not scream himself.

By that time, Tigris had pulled him back. The skin had burned, along with it was gone the soulmate tattoo of his. He let himself sob as Tigris tried to fix him up as much as she could. She didn't scold him, couldn't, when he was crying like he had lost everything, all of his dreams shattered and the reality had settled in.

This was ten years ago, he decided he had no soulmate.

Now as eighteen, he wondered if it would remain true.

next chapter!

Taglist: @tristanswildcat

[woso-dreamzzz]

Flag III

Frida Maanum x Emma Lennartsson x Baby!Reader

Summary: When Emma and Frida found you

Frida is leaving for England.

Arsenal have been interested in her since the season began so it was only natural that she went off there to develop her career further.

But, still, Emma doesn't want to see Frida leave.

Frida occupies a space in Emma's heart that she can't put into words. Frida is everything to her, the air, the ground, the sky and the stars.

But Emma would never discourage Frida from finding her place in a league abroad.

Frida deserves everything in life, even if it's half a world away from where Emma is looking after their home in Sweden.

It will be different in the beginning, Emma knows this, but together there isn't much they can't overcome.

But, still, she'll miss the way Frida's body feels against hers. Even now, as they sneak around the back of the training centre to kiss.

It's not the most professional they've ever been but she just can't help herself when it comes to Frida.

"E-Emma," Frida says in a hushed tone, pushing Emma's roaming lips from her neck," Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

Emma pulls away, glancing around for whatever errant sound Frida has heard.

"I..."

There's nothing but the breeze in the wind, the rustle of leafless branches in the height of winter.

It's absolutely freezing. It's predicted that this is to be the coldest day of the year.

"Nothing," Frida says," I must have imagined it."

Emma's lips go back to her neck, leaving dainty kisses all over her skin. Each one a labour of love, red hot in a way that feels beautiful as the snow falls around them.

Emma stops though, pulling away again.

"No," She says," Wait. I think I can hear it too."

It's faint, barely audible whimpers and whines that are getting more and more quiet as they go on.

But Emma and Frida are alone in an icy cold wasteland.

There's not even birds in the trees. Yet, now that Emma's straining her ears, she can hear the noises with crystal clear clarity.

She shivers as another freezing breeze cuts through her like a knife.

"I...I think it's coming from over there," Frida says, looking over at the clump of dense bushes over by the bins.

"Stay here," Emma says, wary of if it's some wild animal," I'll go and luck."

"Emma-"

"Stay here, Frida. I'll check it out."

She approaches the bushes carefully, slowly in case the animal jumps at her.

But there's no animal.

Just you.

"Emma?" Frida calls, watching as Emma lowers herself to her knees," What is it?"

Emma turns, a singular blanket in her hold and, in that blanket, is you.

"I...I think we need to call an ambulance," She says shakily," I-I think she's been abandoned."

You're tiny, smaller than any baby that Frida's ever seen before. You don't look good either. You're obviously freezing, little lips turning a concerning shade of purple and the cries from your mouth are getting quieter and quieter the longer you're outside.

Teammates clamber over themselves to help when Emma and Frida run in with you.

Somewhere along the way, Frida loses her top when it's clear that you're either nearly hypothermic or already developing it. Skin-to-skin seems to be what's best for you as you lay weakly on Frida's chest with layers of blankets over you both.

Now that she can see you properly, it's with a sinking feeling that she realises how underweight you actually are. You're nothing but skin and bones as Frida holds you close while they wait for the ambulance.

"They're calling her the Linköping baby," Emma says softly," The staff and the girls, that is. Word has spread pretty quickly."

"That's unfair," Frida replies, her own voice barely above a whisper as she feels your lungs inflate shakily against her," They can't call her that. She needs a name."

"They don't think she's going to survive," Emma says," Even before the ambulance gets here. She's in bad shape. They don't think she's going to make it."

"And you?" Frida finally tears her eyes away from you to look at her girlfriend. "What do you think?"

"I think..."

Your head barely pokes out from under all of the blankets, your eyes half open. You're not moving much. It seems to almost be too much effort to even breath, like everything in you is fighting to do something as basic and instinctual as that.

Emma didn't know what to expect when she looked in that bush. You were laying there, weak and unmoving in just a singular blanket and a thin onesie. One could almost mistake you for being asleep if it weren't from the stilted way your chest rose and fell and the way faint noises would escape your mouth every so often.

"I think...I think she's a fighter."

"I think so too."

Emma can tell what Frida's thinking before Frida herself even knows what she's thinking. She can tell by the way Frida's holding, you the way she's looking at you, the way she presses a soft kiss to the wispy hair at the top of your head.

Emma can tell because she's thinking the exact same thing.

"She looks like you," Emma says, starting off gently," Don't you think?"

Frida giggles a little bit. "I was thinking she had your nose. What part of her looks like me exactly?"

"Her hair, maybe," Emma says," And I'm sure once she opens this eyes of hers, they'll be like yours."

"You don't know that."

"I think I do."

"She might never open them," Frida says suddenly," If everyone is thinking she won't come out of this. They might never open."

"She will. She's a fighter."

Frida's throat bobs. "But if she doesn't...What would they even put on her grave? The Linköping baby?"

"You want to name her?"

"Everyone deserves a name. No matter how little they are."

"Then name her."

"I-"

"Ambulance is here," One of their teammates pokes their heads through the door," Medics are coming in now. They said to stay put."

"Y/N," Frida says suddenly.

"Huh?" Emma asks.

"She looks like a y/n."

You're tiny and malnourished and halfway to death's door. The possibility of you surviving the night is astronomically low.

But you have a name now and, in Emma's mind, you have a bedroom at home. A bedroom with a soft, warm crib and a dog companion who would just adore you. A bedroom in a house full of toys and soft clothes and two mothers who would adore you too.

A first name and a last name from the mothers who found you freezing cold in the dead of winter, buried in a bush as snow fell over you.

"Yeah," Emma says as the paramedics rush in," She does."

[no-144444]

false starts and unthinkable mistakes- o.piastri 81

————————

————————

summary: oscar comes to you after a difficult race

pairing: oscar piastri (81) x Wolff fem reader

a/n: so yall… I wrote this on thursday before spa and guys… im feeling like a psychic now and not in a good way wtf.

————————

A false p1? What the fuck? He’d worked his ass off, driven perfectly, made all the right calls, and still it wasn’t enough because the car was 2 fucking kilograms underweight. It meant all his hard work was for nothing.

Fuck that.

Oscar walked through the paddock, a frown firmly on his lips as Lando and Zak tried helplessly to comfort him, but it was no use. He’d been disqualified, and you weren’t even there to comfort him. He did realise how this would have to happen someday, especially since he was dating another team’s lead engineer, but another part of him just wanted you to be there and hold him, the second he got off the podium. He wanted to share his victory with you, kiss you like the other boys were allowed to kiss their girlfriends, but Toto (also, sadly, your father) would never let you.

And then he wanted you waiting outside the stewards room for him after.

But you were probably too busy celebrating.

He walked into his room, thanking the boys for their kind words, but ultimately just wanting to be alone.

“Hi,” your soft voice surprised him. He whipped his head around to see you sitting on his bed, still in full Mercedes uniform. “Are you ok?”

He didn’t think about it, any of it. He didn’t think about the open door, all the cameras nearby, the open window that was at street level, he didn’t care.

He stalked over to you in 3 long steps, and kissed you, right then and there.

He felt you try to pull away, but his grip on your waist wouldn’t let you, as well as the arm wrapped around your neck. He wasn’t letting you go.

“Baby-“ you pulled away chuckling as he caught his breath. “Relax, I’m right here.”

He smiled, for the first time in an hour. “I know,” he took a deep breath. “Just happy to see you.”

You smiled. “How was the FIA?”

He sighed, sitting down next to you and wrapping his arms around you. “Bullshit.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled.

“I don’t care though,” he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “ ‘Cause you’re here.”

He felt your smile against his neck and felt a sense of pride in his chest.

“How did you sneak away so quickly?”

“My dad and I got in a fight over something stupid and he said he wanted me gone, so I left,” you shrugged.

Oscar held his breath. “Was it a fight over…?”

“Us? Yeah,” you clarified. “He wants us to break up.”

Oscar could feel his heart pounding a mile a minute. “Oh.”

“I told him he could shove it. Don’t worry Piastri, you’re stuck with me forever,” you chuckled, then pressed a comforting kiss to his neck.

He let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding, and smirked. “Good.”

You kissed up his neck and his jaw, then landed on his lips, but pulled away when you heard the camera click.

One of the well-known photographers was at the door, looking guilty.

“Hey!” Oscar shouted, but they were already down the hall by the time you two got up.

“Fuck,” you cursed as he closed the door. “That’s going to be main news tomorrow.”

“It’s alright,” he wrapped his arms around you, pulling your head into his chest. “We’re fine.”

You nodded, trying desperately to believe him but knowing it would definitely test things, especially with your dad.

“And don’t worry about your dad. I’m going to go talk to him,” Oscar promised.

“Osc, I can’t ask you to do that, no,” you shook your head, though you really didn’t want to deal with Toto’s inevitable hissyfit. You also didn’t want to deal with all the shit the press was going to say about you two. You could hear the articles already; “Oscar Piastri and Y/n Wolff. F1 princess going for the next winner?” And other shit like “Did Toto Wolff disown his daughter after she went to McLaren?”

And you knew your dad wouldn’t hold back on details if he was asked about it. He’d tell them you’d been dating for 2 years, he’d tell them you two lived together in the off-season, and he’d tell them that he didn’t approve.

“It’s alright,” he soothed. “I’m going to have to talk to him sometime.”

You nodded, but hoped Oscar wouldn’t.

“Anyways, let’s just relax for a few hours, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. You two lay together for a few hours, just watching some random show you two liked, and you fell asleep in his arms.

You two would be fine. Oscar would make sure of it.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[bedoballoons]

GENSHIN BOYS WITH A FEM!THIN/UNDERWEIGHT READER???? ive always been rlly thin, so it’s not eating disorder related just a scrawny fem!reader

OOOOOO OKIE!! I've always been thicker myself so I hope I wrote this well! Thank you for your request and I hope you enjoy the characters I picked!!

─⊰💕𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤💕⊰─

{༻~Scrawny and cute~༺}

CW: Fem! Reader described as being very thin!, fluffy and sweet!

A/n: First time writing Gaming!! EEE so excited!! Hope I did him justice!!

(Includes: Lyney, Gaming, and Venti!)

𑁍༄Lyney:

You tried to stay perfectly still as Lynette measured you...how had you gotten in this position? You weren't really sure, all you knew was that Lyney was special ordering you a outfit for his next show and he'd asked his sister to measure you, only she seemed a little perplexed with the results. "You're eating right? You make sure to have three meals a day? Maybe even some snacks?"

You raised a eyebrow at her, "Yes of course. Why do you ask?"

She paused for a second, her features not giving any hint to what she was feeling, "Your measurements are just very small, for a second I was worried you might need to eat more."

"Nope, I was actually worried about that at first as well, but I always make food and she eats it. She's just naturally thin, which is exactly why I'm thinking you'll be perfect for the trick I have in mind...if that's alright of course?"

You and Lynette turned your attention to Lyney as he walked up to you, his eyes sparkling with inspiration as you contemplated his request. "Hmm do I get a kiss after the show?"

"As if you wouldn't mon amour~"

𑁍༄Gaming:

"Woah here let me get that for ya!"

"Watch your step, don't want you to fall!"

"Get to safety I'll take care of them!"

You'd heard them a few to many times lately, you knew Gaming was only looking out for you, he was a caring guy and he truly just wanted to make sure you were okay all the time...even if he was being a little to...over protective. Yes you were a bit scrawnier than he was...his claymore probably weighed more then you did, but that didn't mean he had to do everything for you..., "Hey Gaming? You know you don't have to do all that stuff for me right? I can do it just fine I swea-"

"Oh I have no doubts you could, I just figured when I'm with you, you shouldn't have to. Hmm how do I put this...you're one of the most precious things to me, so I want to take care of you." He scratched the back of his neck, a blush creeping onto his cheeks, "Maybe I was over doing it though...sorry. Promise i'll remember that for next time, for now lets enjoy some dim sum!"

𑁍༄Venti:

Venti wrapped his arms around your waist tightly and rested his chin on your shoulder, watching as ran your fingers over the details engraved in his lyre. He'd been teaching you how to play little by little everyday and now you could almost strum a whole song...but it still just didn't sound as good as when he played it, "Venti do you think one day my music will induce feelings like yours does? I want to play you a melody that leaves you feeling calm and happy, just like you do to me."

He smiled softly and kissed your cheek, his embrace growing slightly tighter around your slim waist, "I think one day you will make music that leaves everyone feeling calm and free, you have talent and a beauty even crystal flies would be jealous of."

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words and butterflies fill your stomach...one day. One day you'd play him a tune that explained every feeling just right and then when he held you tightly after, chuckling happily and making a joke about how he hopes he doesn't break you with his hugs...you'd tell him just how much you loved him and it would be the most perfect of days.

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day!~*⁠.⁠✧

[judespoets]

jude and reader haven’t seen each other in a while, when the see each other again he notices she’s lost a lot of weight quickly unhealthily

TW

worried | jude bellingham

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of: disordered eating, body image struggles and underweight

a/n: this is a bit messy so i hope it’s what u were imagining!

jude and you haven’t seen each other for more than 4 months.

and it was absolute torture.

back when he was at dortmund the way wasn’t that far to england so you saw each other more often. But now with him at madrid, it was hard.

especially with school, you wanted to finish your degree before moving in with jude, just in case, you always said. you wanted to have something in your hand, something to work with, in case something happens between the two of you.

but school was equally as hard, you were drained, not having anyone to help you, your parents moved back to their hometown in italy when you were eighteen and started university.

you felt the weight of your university work pressing down on your shoulders as you sat in your small, dimly lit apartment in England.

Despite the constant ache of missing Jude, you didn't want to burden him with your struggles. You knew how important his career was and didn't want to add to his stress. So, you kept your feelings to yourself, focusing on your studies and trying to manage everything on your own.

The days blurred together in a haze of lectures, assignments, and endless hours in the library. Your friends noticed you growing silent and withdrawal, but you brushed off their concerns with a forced smile and a few words about being busy. You felt like you were barely keeping your head above water, but you were determined not to let anyone see how much you was struggling.

Jude, meanwhile, was busy with his training schedule. He missed you terribly but was unaware of how bad things had gotten for you. He would send you texts and voice messages whenever he had a spare moment, but your responses were often brief and delayed.

You felt the weight of your university work pressing down on your shoulders as you sat in your small, dimly lit apartment in England. Your parents had moved back to Italy when you started university at 18, leaving you alone to navigate this new chapter of your life. The distance between you and your loved ones was becoming unbearable, and the stress of your studies only added to your loneliness.

You had always struggled with taking care of yourself during stressful times, and now was no exception. Your eating habits had become erratic; you often skipped meals, telling yourself you were too busy to eat. The constant bombardment of messages you saw because of girls who want jude, made you feel insecure about your body, and you became fixated on the idea that you needed to be thinner to feel validated, both academically and personally.

Despite the constant ache of missing Jude, you didn't want to burden him with your struggles. You knew how important his career was and didn't want to add to his stress. So, you kept your feelings to herself, focusing on your studies and trying to manage everything on your own.

One evening, after an exhausting day of training, Jude sat down and listened to your last voice message again. There was something in your tone that worried him. It was subdued, almost mechanical. He sent you a text, asking if everything was okay, but received no immediate response.

you, on the other hand, were sitting alone in your apartment, staring blankly at your computer screen. your phone buzzed with Jude's message, but you couldn't bring yourself to answer. You felt a wave of guilt and sadness wash over you. You wanted to talk to him, to hear his voice, but the thought of breaking down in front of him was too much to bear.

That night, you cried yourself to sleep, feeling more alone than ever. You knew you needed to reach out to someone, anyone, but your pride and fear held you back. The next morning, you dragged herself out of bed and headed to class, determined to push through another day.

As the weeks went by, your isolation deepened. Your eating habits worsened, and you found yourself constantly comparing your body to the flawless images you saw online. You kept telling yourself that you just needed to get through this semester, that things would get better eventually. But the loneliness and pressure continued to build, a constant weight on your chest.

Jude, sensing something was wrong but unsure of how to help from afar, decided to talk to one of your close friends, Emma. He hoped she could give him some insight into what was going on.

“Hey, Emma. It’s Jude,” he began, feeling a bit awkward. “I’m really worried about (Y/N). She doesn’t seem herself lately. Have you noticed anything?”

Emma sighed, relief flooding through her that someone else shared her concerns. “Yeah, Jude, I have. She’s been really withdrawn and seems overwhelmed. I’ve tried to talk to her, but she insists she’s fine. She doesn’t look well either, she looks sick, even. Maybe she’ll open up to you.”

Jude felt a pang of guilt and worry. He resolved to do whatever he could to support you, even from a distance. He started sending you longer messages, sharing more about his own day and gently encouraging you to talk to him. He also made sure to send little reminders of his love and support, hoping to bridge the gap between them.

Your hadn't responded to Jude's texts for two days, which left him increasingly anxious. Despite his training schedule with Real Madrid in Madrid, thoughts of your well-being consumed him. During breaks in practice, he found it difficult to concentrate, his mind wandering back to you.

Jude knew you struggled with taking care of yourself during stressful times, especially with eating regularly and feeling pressured by academic expectations. He had seen firsthand how you could become overwhelmed, and the silence from your end only heightened his concern.

One evening, after a particularly intense training session, Jude sat in his apartment, staring at his phone. He had sent several messages to you throughout the day, hoping for a response that never came. Each unanswered text gnawed at him, filling him with a sense of dread.

Finally, unable to bear the uncertainty any longer, Jude decided to call you again. The phone rang several times before going to voicemail. His worry deepened. He left a message, trying to sound calm despite the rising panic in his voice. "Hey babe, it's me. Just checking in. I haven't heard from you in a while, and I'm getting a bit worried. Please call me back when you get this."

Minutes turned into hours, and still, there was no response. Jude paced his apartment, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. He knew he couldn't just sit and wait any longer.

Jude took a deep breath and dialed your number again. When it went straight to voicemail once more, he made a decision. He grabbed his phone and called the coach, his voice urgent and determined.

"Coach, I need to talk to you," Jude began, his tone serious and focused. "I'm really worried about (Y/N). She hasn't responded to any of my messages for two days, and I can't shake this feeling that something might be wrong. I need to go check on her."

Carlo listened quietly, understanding the gravity of Jude's concern. "Jude, I trust your judgment. If you feel this strongly, go ahead and go. We'll manage here."

With a sense of relief that he was taking action, Jude quickly packed a few essentials, including a small bag with some of your favorite things. He booked a flight for early the next morning, wanting to get to you as soon as possible.

The hours until his departure dragged on, filled with restless anticipation.

Jude couldn't shake the worry that gnawed at him, but the thought of finally being able to see you gave him a sense of purpose.

Late into the night, Jude sent one last message to you, letting you know he was coming. "Baby, I'm on my way. Please let me know you're okay," he typed, hoping desperately for a response.

With everything packed and his flight confirmed, Jude finally allowed himself a moment of rest. He closed his eyes, imagining the relief he would feel when he finally saw you again, safe and sound in England.

Jude's flight from Madrid to England felt like an eternity of restless anticipation. The worry for you gnawed at him with every passing minute, intensifying as the plane descended towards London.

His thoughts were consumed by your well-being, imagining various scenarios of what he might find.

As Jude hurried through the airport terminal, he checked his phone compulsively for any message from you, but there was still nothing. Anxiety gripped him tightly as he hailed a taxi to take him to your apartment.

The drive seemed interminable, each passing street reminding him of the distance that had kept you apart during these days.

When Jude finally arrived at your apartment building, he felt a mix of relief and apprehension. He took a deep breath before climbing the stairs to your floor. Standing in front of your door, he hesitated for a moment, gathering his resolve before knocking firmly.

“Jude?" Your voice was tinged with surprise and relief, but Jude's attention was immediately drawn to your appearance. You looked pale and fragile, your once vibrant spirit subdued.

But what struck him the most was how much thinner you had become since the last time you were together.

"Baby..." Jude's voice caught in his throat as he took in your appearance. He pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms trembling slightly as he held you close. "You're so thin," he whispered, his voice filled with concern and sadness.

You buried your face in his chest, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I... I've been struggling," you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "With everything."

Jude gently guided you inside, closing the door behind you. He sat down with you on the couch, never letting go of your hand. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked softly, his heart breaking for you.

You shook your head, your gaze downcast. "I didn't want to bother you," you confessed. "I thought I could handle it on my own."

Jude tilted your chin up gently, meeting your eyes with his own filled with concern. "Love, you're never a bother to me. I care about you more than anything. Please, let me help."

You took a shaky breath, your gaze dropping to your hands. "It's just... everything feels so overwhelming," you admitted in a rush, as if the words were too heavy to hold inside any longer. "The university work, my parents being far away, and... and feeling like I'm not good enough."

Jude's heart ached for you. He knew how hard you had always been on herself, striving for perfection in everything you did. "You are more than good enough, my love," he said gently, squeezing your hand reassuringly. "You're incredible. But you don't have to do everything alone. We can do this together."

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes as you felt the weight of Jude's support. "I've been... I've been struggling to eat regularly," you admitted quietly, your voice cracking with emotion. "And I've been feeling so insecure about... about everything."

Jude's heart sank as he heard your confession. He gently pulled you closer, holding you as you let out a quiet sob. "I'm so sorry you've been going through this alone," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "But you're not alone anymore. I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere."

You clung to him, feeling a mix of relief and fear. Opening up about your struggles had been daunting, but Jude's support gave you a newfound sense of strength. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice trembling with gratitude.

“Baby, i’ll take you to madrid with me. No arguments. You’ll finish uni online and you’ll stop with some of your courses. At least until you’re better.” Jude said firmly but still full of concern, he didn’t know how to act either.

“I will. I don’t want to be alone anymore.” You whispered, cuddling into him further.

“You were never alone, my love. And you never will be. I love you so much.”

[chilling-seavey]

A request for George after his win! Surprising him with lingerie underneath your outfit when he gets back to Monaco

↳ A/N Thank you for this, anon! I know you sent it after Austria but I wasn't quite feeling inspired until the events of his Belgian weekend. I know you must have been hoping for elation but we can't have the highs without the lows. This came of it (and was a great way to purge my feelings-)

↳ Pairings: George Russell x Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n)

↳ Word Count: 3.8k

↳ Warnings: 18+, NSFW, oral (m receiving, kinda deep throating?), slight cum play, desecrating items that loosely symbolize the Mercedes AMG Petronas F1 team after the heartbreak of Sunday, July 28th, this is also incredibly unedited so don't come for me if it sucks LOL

George felt so out of place returning home empty handed. It was as if his mind hadn’t processed what the fuck had happened. That morning, getting into the car, his goal was a podium at best. Suddenly, he had found himself on top step of all places after a risky one-stop race he managed to pull off against all odds. Then, in the midst of his elation, the news broke that he was disqualified for his car being 1.5kg underweight. 

He could still feel the weight of the trophy in his hands, the shiny gold metal under his lips, the rapid thudding of his heartbeat in his ears as he was caught in the arms of his team. The team that had betrayed him with an underweight car and being the cause of his beautiful first place trophy to be snatched from his hands. Oh, God, he swore his heart had never hurt this badly after a race before in his entire career. Anger and sadness were a toxic, cruel mix.

It was a blessing and a curse that it was now summer break. On one hand, it gave him a good amount of time to catch his breath, recharge, and come back ready to fight. On the other hand, his disqualification left a pit in his stomach that he was going to be stuck feeling for the following three weeks until he could rewrite himself a new race. The whole flight back to Monaco, he just wanted to get home and curl into a ball and rot for three weeks. He angrily ranted in his head that he didn’t want to see another statistic, another car, another person until Zandvoort, dammit. 

But then he saw you, sitting in the warm light of the dining room when he stepped across the threshold of your modest apartment. He saw you and all the tension in his body just melted and he thanked God that you were his person he could see for the next three weeks. 

Of course, you knew what had happened. If it wasn’t thanks to the plethora of Formula 1 news and updates that were filling up your phone, it was the emotional texts from George, the tearful phone call from his drivers room, that undeniable connection you had to him that made your heart absolutely ache for him. The moment he stepped inside, you were shutting your laptop and taking the few quick strides across the hardwood floor and throwing your arms around him. 

He melted into your arms like butter.

You instinctively slid your hands around his back, rubbing along his spine, feeling him exhale in your embrace like he hadn’t been able to breathe the whole trip home. His strong arms wrapped around you tightly, burying his face in your neck with a shaky inhale as if trying to pull you into all of his senses. 

“Oh, my love…” you cooed gently, tangling your hand in the back of his hair to scratch your fingers through the roots consolingly, “You’re home.”

George held onto you for a moment longer, accepting the comfort of your embrace, “Yeah.”

You pulled away just far enough to share a fleeting chasté kiss, your hands naturally finding each others between your bodies. You pressed another kiss to his cheek as his eyes drifted over your shoulder to look across the apartment. On the console table in the living room sat his trophy from Brazil and his trophy from Austria. Beside them, the empty space looked miles wide. It was supposed to be a trio. He had made it a trio. 

He shut his eyes for a moment again in frustration and exhaustion, “I just want to sleep. Forget today ever happened.”

You studied his downcast gaze for a moment, the way he stared at your joint hands, your thumbs caressing his knuckles. In a whisper, you pitched in a soft light tone, “I was hoping we could celebrate…like we usually do after a podium or a win…”

George let out a dry laugh, “There’s nothing to celebrate, love.”

“Yes, there is.” you insisted strongly, “This is still your win, no matter what the FIA says. That’s bullshit. This was the best race of your career and you won it on your own merits.”

“What do I have to show for it?” he retorted almost sharply, as if he didn’t want to talk about this anymore, “Nothing. Lewis got his 105th P1 trophy and I got nothing.”

“Don’t say that.” you insisted, “He got your P1 trophy. It was gifted to him, not earned.”

George’s shoulders slumped, and he mumbled, “It just hurts so bad.” 

“I know. I feel it too.” you breathed, “My heart breaks for you. I wish there was something I could do to take away your hurt.”

“There’s nothing you can do.” George sighed, defeated, stepping away from you to head farther into the kitchen to fetch himself a glass from the cupboard. “The rules are the rules. It’s a brutal sport and sometimes, honestly, it’s fucking unfair. There’s nothing either of us can do to make any of this feel better.”

You leaned forward on the peninsula countertop, watching as he poured himself a glass of water. His face was still stone and flat despite the flush of his cheeks from the hurricane of emotions stirring within him for the last however many hours. He didn’t deserve this. Despite everything, you knew that there was something you could do to at least take his mind off of the chaos and upset of the day. Your lips pursed in thought and then you replied to his statement in a blasé tone, “Fine. Then I guess I shouldn’t bother with your surprise.”

He perked up a little, almost like a dog, his eyes snapping back over to you as he stopped pouring, “What surprise?” 

You shrugged modestly and took a step back from the counter, letting your hands fall to your sides, “Oh, nothing. You don’t want to celebrate so…”

“Well, hold on a second,” George put the water filter back in the fridge and closed it so he could give his full attention to you. The peninsula stretched between you, the clink of his glass on the countertop the only sound for a moment. He spoke again, eyes trained on you, “You got me something?”

“Of sorts.” you took another step away, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt, “I’ll show you, but you’re not up for it so…”

George’s eyes followed the movement of your hands as you started to pull up the bottom of your shirt, his eyebrows slowly raising with it in anticipation. You finally dropped your shirt to the ground, revealing the lacy teal bra you wore, the fabric standing out against your skin. Around your waist rested a matching teal garter belt that accentuated your curves, its silk straps disappearing down past the waistband of your slacks. His tongue darted out between his lips habitually at the sight of you, eyes skimming down your body as you dropped your pants and kicked them to the side to show off the matching pair of panties on your hips and the lace garters that hugged your thighs. 

“Jesus.” George exhaled. 

“An untimely choice for Petronas teal,” you said casually, your tone holding a playful smirk, “because I know we’re mad at the team right now but…maybe that just means you can tear it off me.”

He just blinked at you, “Yes.”

“Yeah?” your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, biting back your smile, fingers tracing the shape of your breasts in the cups of your bra, “Suddenly you’re up for your surprise?” 

“It is certainly a well welcomed distraction.” George replied, basically speaking to your chest. 

“Think it’ll make you feel better?” 

“Loads.”

“Where do you want it? Bedroom or…?”

George took a step back from the counter and snapped his fingers to the floor at his feet, “Right here.”

Who were you to deny George Russell a damn thing? 

You sauntered around the counter and into the kitchen where he stood, slinging an arm around his shoulders as you both leaned in for a kiss. It was quick and simple and his hands fell to your hips as your lips met again, sharing a few more soft close-mouthed kisses as if testing the waters. After a moment, he tilted his head to the side a little and parted your lips with his own before locking your bottom one between his two. 

Your small moan had him breaking away from that kiss to quickly move in for another, raising a hand up to the side of your face to hold you there. You swore you could taste the remanence of champagne on his tongue as it nudged against yours; a reminder that he was the winner through and through. In everything but the obvious, he was the winner. Your winner. 

Butterflies shot through your stomach as he deepened your kisses, resting his thumb under your chin to guide you into each one and you followed his lead with ease. The two of you fell into a familiar rhythm of lips and tongues, filling the kitchen with the lewd sound of your kisses. George’s hand was warm against the small of your back, resting there politely for a few moments, just above the fabric of your panties. 

Your hands slid down his chest over his t-shirt, blindly fisting the material with a nudge upwards to silently get him to take it off. He pulled away from your lips long enough to do just that, aimlessly letting his shirt fall onto the countertop. His eyes were already falling half-lidded and lustful, staring at you almost down his nose with this sinful expression and this bite to his swollen bottom lip that could have had you dropping your knees in an instant. Instead, you dusted a kiss to his angular jaw line, his neck, his throat; feeling his small groan under your lips. 

You kissed down his chest, between his pecs, over his abs - your hands trailing after sensually, rising goosebumps over his tanned skin. As you sank to your knees in front of him on the kitchen floor he pulled in a shaky inhale, his fingers carding through your hair. 

“My three time race winner.” you purred up to him as you slowly unbuttoned his slacks, moving slowly and sensually to drag it on a little longer, building on that anticipation that thudded warmth through his veins. “I think you deserve a reward for your performance today.”

Before he could reply with any kind of half-self-deprecating rebuttal about his unfair disqualification, your hand was slipping through his fly and giving his clothed cock a squeeze over his underwear. George withered slightly, words dying at his lips, channeling his emotions into the reassurance of your touch and how much he had missed your presence throughout the weekend. You always knew how to take his mind away from the darkest places. 

“Mm,” you hummed contently as you palmed him strongly, feeling the thick shape of him pressing against your hand through his briefs, “already getting hard for me, aren’t you?”

George breathed out a dreamy, “Yeah.”

You tugged at the waistband of his slacks a little to force him a half step closer, just so you could lean in and press a slow, open mouthed kiss to the bulge he was hiding beneath the fabric. Your eyes fluttered up to look at his face, finding him already staring down at you, and you sent him a sultry smile with your fingers linking in the waistband of his underwear

Without a word, you pulled them and his slacks down his legs, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as you watched him be revealed before your eyes. You had seen him naked and uncountable number of times but in moments like that, he still managed to take your breath away. 

You left his pants and underwear forgotten around his ankles as your priority quickly shifted to something far more pressing. In a gentle hand, you cupped his balls and his dick in one go, feeling the weight of him hungrily. Your unwavering gaze stared at how he stiffened up some more right before your eyes, forcing you to habitually lick your lips. You were salivating. 

“My God, baby,” you breathed, giving him a tender squeeze just to pull a groan from his chest, “You have such a pretty cock.”

“All yours.” George replied easily, his accent thick with lust, his slender fingers still brushing through your hair. 

“All mine.” you echoed. 

Keeping his eye contact, you leaned in to purse your lips and press a slow, wet kiss right to the tip. His chest shuddered through his next inhale at your action, staring down at you wide-eyed and needy. 

You raised your other hand to join your first, using one to cradle his balls while the other held his cock steady for you to press another precise kiss to the head. Turning to press another kiss to the length, you hummed in appreciation for the warmth under your lips. Holding him tenderly in your hands, you tried not to smirk too wide at your own ridiculousness as you teased up to him, “I dunno how they declared your car underweight when you were carrying this heavy load.” 

George let out a breathy genuine laugh, shutting his eyes for a second and lolling his head back in disbelief over your corny words, “Jesus, love.”

“So delicious.” you hummed, licking your lips before teasingly lapping at the tip with your tongue, earning a tight gasp from his throat. “So, so, delicious.” 

Keeping your hands in place, you swirled your tongue around the swollen head of his cock before settling your lips around it for a soft suckle. Your eyes fluttered closed as you stayed like that for a moment, testing the waters, giving him the slightest suction and warmth of your mouth. 

“Darling-” George withered, his hand slipping to the back of your head to try and pull you deeper. 

You pulled back again, pausing just long enough to spit on it, letting your hand start to move to slick him up in it, before you answered innocently, “What is it?”

George chuckled breathily, “You are such a tease.”

You smiled sweetly up at him, keeping your hand moving in precise twisting strokes, “Does my race winner want me to suck his dick? Give him his reward for a job well done?”

You dribbled more spit onto the tip, letting your hand move a little faster. He inhaled sharply at the change in pace, fingers almost tugging at the back of your hair with need to get your mouth back on him. You held back.

“Please, love, I need it. I need your mouth.” George purred, his voice dreamy and rich.

“And you deserve it.” you reminded him.

And then you were swallowing him up in one smooth motion. 

“O-Oh, fuck-” George gasped sharply, his entire body flinching at the sudden presence of your warm, wet mouth around him. His eyes screwed shut and his jaw clenched, trying to keep his composure with a stiff grunt. 

He tasted warm and slightly salty against your tongue, resting thick and heavy in your mouth. You could have stayed there on your knees with him just settled in your mouth all night but the desire to bring him pleasure outweighed your selfishness. So, you started moving in slow bobs of your head with your hand still snug around the base to keep him where you needed him. 

Up and down, in and out, slowly and surely. You kept your tongue running along the underside of his thick cock with every stroke, making sure to hollow your cheeks every time you pulled back. You knew what he liked. 

George never pushed you but he always encouraged you; his hand resting on the back of your head and following your motions to help you keep your tame pace, only pulling you along the slightest bit. He was staring down at you with a lascivious gaze, long lashes hiding dilated blue eyes, swollen pink lips parted to let out breathy gasps and soft moans. You pushed yourself a little deeper. 

“Crikey-”

His ridiculous exclamation had you letting out a small wet laugh that, given that your mouth was full of dick, sounded more like a gag than anything. His fingers tightened in your hair with a handsome moan from his chest, wanting to make you do that again. 

You slowly nuzzled your mouth farther, choking slightly on him until your eyes were watering and spit was trickling down your chin. When he reached as far as you could easily take him, your body lurched with a wet gag and you pulled away. 

“Fuck, love, you’re insatiable.” George praised. 

You took a second to catch your breath, smiling proudly up at him as your hand took over for your mouth for a moment. The slick sound of your spit under every quick pump of your palm filled the otherwise silent kitchen, luring more melodic moans from your beloved’s throat. Everything about him was perfect to you; a perfect man who deserved the entire world. When someone tried to take the world from him, you would do everything in your power to try and make it better for him. 

With a lick and a bite to your spitty lips, you dropped your gaze from his face to your hand, watching how he looked with your fingers wrapped around his thick girth. Your other hand still cradled his balls, giving them a little squeeze and caress at the same time. 

George’s free hand dropped to the counter beside him, suddenly in need of support to keep himself upright.

You giggled sweetly and leaned in to kiss his leaking tip, once, twice, and then you were wrapping your lips around it again. This time, your hand kept going, moving in firm twisting strokes in time with your mouth. George panted from above you, fingers tangled in your hair, his hips trying not to nudge into your touch at the same time, not wanting to hurt you in the process. 

But you gladly took the initiative, gagging yourself on his cock until tears were stinging your eyes and your senses were taken up entirely by him. The scent of sex lingered in your nostrils, filling the kitchen, swirling around the two of you in a salacious cloud. It was a reminder of the balance of your lust and love, the connection you shared, how you would never stray from giving him the best treatment - no matter how filthy.

George let out a string of expletives under his breath as you worked him graciously, his eyes screwing shut. You could feel how he throbbed in your hand, already so close, so you slowed a little before pulling away again. 

He groaned in displeasure at being edged but you didn’t let him linger in that for too long. Instead, you asked him, “Where do you want to cum?”

Not having anticipated that question, George’s eyes fluttered open, his eyebrow furrowed in slight confusion as he processed your words through his lust. He licked his lips, bit them, let out a little hum in thought. Then, his gaze dropped to that pretty little set you were wearing. His eyebrows raised with a slight nod towards you, “On those perfect fucking tits.”

You smiled slyly up at him and kept your hand going, “Whatever you want, race winner.”

“Jesus, you’re so good to me.” he exhaled, taking his hand from your hair to take over for you. 

You let go of his cock, spitting on it once more to make sure he was plenty wet, and for a second you just watched as he stroked himself up to that same speed you had going prior. Right in your face, his large hand jacked himself off in frustrated tugs behind heavy breaths, staring down at you with an intense purpose behind his eyes. 

Lifting up onto your knees a little more, you used your hands to push your breasts together in your lacy teal bra so it was right up close to him. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip for a moment as you just took in the sights and sounds of it, watching him use you to get off. 

“That’s it…come on.” you encouraged warmly, glancing up at his face with a lick to your lips. 

The pleasure that was rippled across his face was gorgeous, right down to the hints of pink across his cheeks that stretched down the sides of his neck and the slight scrunch of his nose. So concentrated, on a one track mind. 

“That’s it,” you repeated, looking at his hand on his cock again, in a dizzy haze at how hot the sight was. You pressed your breasts together a little more, the teal fabric standing out in the warm light of the kitchen, and you let your stream of consciousness out to get him there faster, “That’s it. Show me how you feel about your team right now…how you hate the sight of this colour right now. Come on. Ruin it. Desecrate it. That’s it, baby, come on.”

“Fuck-” George choked out. 

“Uh huh. Come on, baby. Ruin it. That’s it.” you nodded him on, speaking a little louder as his moans and gasps rose in volume and pitch. 

And then, pretty spurts of white were shot across your chest as he moaned handsomely through the kitchen. You shifted slightly to make sure he got most of it on the bra itself, thrilled on the symbolism of what he just did entailed. 

“That’s it.” you purred as he faded out of his orgasm, “Beautiful.” 

You reached up to set your hand around his on his throbbing dick, leaning in to clean up the tip with an eager tongue and a few little suckles, making him hiss in sensitivity. Your smiling eyes locked on his face as you sat back on your haunches again, wiping your mouth and chin with your thumb before your fingers were trailing through his cum splattered across your chest and you smeared it over your bra some more. He watched you breathlessly, only letting out a soft groan as you licked your fingers off. 

Without tearing your eyes away from his, you stated teasingly, “Next time we’ll break into Brackley and have you cum all over the trophy that should have stayed yours.”

George couldn’t even word a response for a second between your outlandish ‘idea’ and the fact that you took his wrist and guided his fingers into your mouth just after. His lips trying to form a reply to no avail, wide eyes staring down at how you sucked his fingers clean, before all he could do was let out a breathy huff of laughter and turn his head away from your insistent gaze. His pleasured, suddenly shy silence spoke volumes. You grinned proudly up at him. 

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[yelenasdiary]

If you weren’t planing on writing it (and as your request are still open I’m going to take advantage of that sorry) can you write your idea of reader being Peggy and dottie daughter and dating Nat but mostly dottie gets overprotective?

Meet The Carters

Pairing: Peggy Carter x Daughter! Reader, Dottie Underwood x Daughter! Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Reader || High School AU.

Summary: When your mother, Peggy, discovers you have a girlfriend, she asks you to bring her to dinner. When your other mother, Dottie, lays eyes on the girl you've been dating, things take a turn.

Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Mentions of Red Room, Overprotective Parent?? Slight Mention of Child Abuse (reader being abandoned and malnourished), Nat is 17, Reader is 16 | K

AC: I finally got around to writing this! At first, I was writing it as a drabble but I got carried away and now it’s a full fic lmao! I hope you enjoy! x

You were unpacking your study books from your backpack when your mother knocked on the door, chewing on an apple slice, she smiled softly at you. 

"Who was that you were hugging just now?" She asked in her thick British accent as she leaned against the door frame. Your cheeks felt warm as you turned to face your mother. "Just a friend" you replied. 

You've been dating Natasha for a few months now, it was still rather new and not a lot people knew, just a few friends. Natasha is a year older than you and you weren't too sure how your mothers would react to the small age gap or how they would react to you dating in general. 

"Oh, come on sweetie, I know a friendly hug when I see one and that wasn't one" you Peggy tease as she took a seat at the end of your bed and watched as you set your homework on your desk ready to tackle after an afternoon snack. 

"Were you spying on me?" You asked with a cocked brow. Your mother chuckled, "I'm afraid that noticing things is a huge part of my job that now just comes naturally outside of work. So, come on, who is she?" 

You couldn't help the growing smile that took over your face, you took a seat next to your mother. She was always the one you got along with a little better. You loved Dottie but sometimes you felt she was a little harder to connect with than Peggy. "Her name is Natasha" you answered, blushing more than you wanted to show. 

"Natasha" Peggy repeated, "How about you invite her to dinner tonight, we'll have pizza and a movie. I want to meet this girl who's making you turn redder than tomato" she added. Playfully, you rolled your eyes but agreed to ask her. 

----

When Dottie came home from work, she hugged you tightly as if it would be the last time she would hug you but you didn't think too much of it and asked how her day was. 

"It was, well, work. How was your day?" she replied. She never spoke about her job or what she did. In fact, you never knew what she did for a living, you once asked when you were around six years old, and she told you she as like mommy and helps take the bad guys off the streets, but her job was super-secret and only mommy knew about it. You never asked her about it again after that.

You were only a year old when Peggy found you abandoned in a dark alley way. She took you to the hospital and called child services, she stayed by your side the entire time you were in the hospital. You were malnourished and very underweight for a baby of your age. When the time came for you to be released from hospital and into the care of child services, Peggy couldn't bare somebody else taking care of you and that's how Peggy became your mother. You were two years old when Dottie and Peggy got married and now you have two mothers. 

"Oh you know, school is, well, school" you replied to tease.

"Very funny" Dottie cocked a brow, "why has mom got the dinner table set?" She asked when she noticed the table was set for four instead of three. You sat down on the sofa and picked up the television remote before working up the nerve to tell her who was coming over. "Uhm, well, my girlfriend is joining us for dinner tonight, it was mom's idea" you replied quickly turning the TV on. 

"Girlfriend? Since when?" Dottie frowned. You chewed your bottom lip, "Since four months ago" you kept your eyes on the TV only to be saved by Peggy just before Dottie could ask anymore questions. 

"Honey, your home!" She smiled, placing a kiss on her wife's lips. 

"Who is this girlfriend that is coming over?" Dottie asked before Peggy dragged her into the kitchen. You couldn't hear much but little whispers here and there. You knew that Peggy was telling Dottie not to overreact and that there would be a time when you would bring somebody home to meet them. 

You tried to listen more but a knock at the door made your stomach flutter with nerves as you got up to answer it. Natasha smiled softly in her leather jacket, jeans, and black tee. "I hope I'm not late" she spoke. You shook your head, "early actually, the pizza hasn't arrived yet" you smiled as you invited her in.

"Just a heads up, Peggy is excited to meet you and Dottie, well, I'm not too sure how she feels. She just found out a moment ago that I had a girlfriend" you rambled. Natasha placed a kiss on your cheek, "it'll be okay" she whispered. 

Your mothers came out of the kitchen, Peggy smiled instantly while Dottie's eyes widened. You didn't want to say anything, but it disappointed you that she wasn't even ready to give Natasha a chance to show how amazing she was. 

"You must be Natasha, it's lovely to meet you" Peggy greeted your girlfriend. 

"Y/n didn't mention you were English" Natasha replied, lying of course. 

"Oh, yes. England born and raised" your mother smiled once more, "this is my wife, Dottie. Don't mind her, she's had long day at work" she added as Dottie stepped forward to shake Nat's hand. She noticed the look of worry on your face and for your sake gave the red head a soft smile, "it's lovely to meet you" Dottie said. 

"Thank you both for having me over tonight, it's a pleasure to meet you both" Natasha replied. 

----

You and Natasha sat across from your parents while the four of you chatted and ate pizza, neither one of your mothers were great cooks so you were glad it was take-away night for Natasha's sake. 

"You mentioned you moved to Ohio, where were you before that?" Dottie asked. If looks could kill, Natasha would've been dead the moment your mother laid eyes on her. During the entire dinner you noticed that your mother was very focused on Natasha while Peggy was more laid back and enjoyed your girlfriend's company. 

"I was actually born in Russia and my family moved to Ohio because of my father's work" Natasha replied, keeping strong eye contact with your mother who didn't seem to relax. 

"Well, Y/n didn't mention you were Russian!" Peggy commented with a chuckle as she referenced Natasha's first comment to her earlier in the night. Natasha chuckled, "Russian born and raised, kinda" she replied. Dottie excused herself from the table, using the excuse to use the bathroom but you knew it was just a way for her to leave the room. You followed after her, Peggy taking a deep breath and offered that her and Nat go outside and enjoy some fresh air. 

"What is your problem mom?" You asked, following Dottie into your parent's bedroom. She turned to you and shook her head, "She needs to leave and you're not to see her again. Do you understand me?" she said sternly. You closed the door behind you to prevent Natasha from hearing anything that left your mother's lips. 

"No, I don't understand! You've known her for a few hours, and you haven't even tried to give her a chance!" You snapped. 

"I don't need too; I know this is hard for you to understand but this is for your safety"

"My safety?! Natasha isn't some criminal you and mom need to take off the streets!" You frowned. 

"She's worse that that! She's exactly the type of person I don't want my daughter around!" Dottie snapped; you've never heard this tone from her before. Her eyes were full of worry which took you back, your mother had never looked at you with so much fear before. "What is it mom?" You asked in a calmer tone. Dottie shook her head, "you need to ask her to leave, and you can't see her again, I need you to trust me" she repeated. 

"No, if you want Natasha to leave, you ask her" you replied before leaving the room to join Natasha and Peggy outside. "Everything okay love?" Natasha asked, placing a hand on your hip while she brushed a lock of hair behind your ear. "Yeah" you sighed, "can we go get some ice cream or something? I don't want to be here right now" you added. 

"Honey, your mom just needs a little time to get used to that fact you're growing up" Peggy inserted herself. 

"No mom, she didn't even give Natasha a chance and you know it!" You looked over at your mom with tears of frustration filling your eyes. "I think I know what this is about" Natasha replied softly, "let me go talk to her" she added, placing a kiss on your forehead. 

"Don't say another word" Dottie's voice made you turn to the back door where she stood. 

"Dottie!" Peggy snapped, "Leave it alone" she added. Your mother's words made you frown, "no, why can't Nat say anything? What is going on?" You demanded answers. 

"I'm not going to lie to her, Dottie, you might but I won't" Natasha looked at your mother before turning to you, "Your mother and I have the same job, it's not even a job. We don't get paid. We're trained at a place called the Red Ro-"

"Natasha!" Dottie interrupted with a stern tone while her eyes burned into Natasha's. "Can I have a word?" She asked. Natasha nodded and followed your mom into the living room while Peggy did her best to keep you from following them. 

"I hoped this day wouldn't come so soon" your mom started. 

"What do you mean mom? Please, can you just tell me what's going on?" you asked with arms crossed over your chest. Peggy sat down on one of the outdoor chairs on the porch, she patted the seat next to her and you took a seat beside her. "Your mom used to work for an organisation called Red Room. I've been working endlessly to try and find the location of this place but it's almost impossible. They take girls, from the street, pay for them and brainwash them. Your mother was trained to kill people…" Your mother went on to explain. 

Tears streamed down your face by the time Peggy had finished explaining everything to you. Now you know everything and the reason why your mother never told you how work was because she's been trying to stay in the organizations good books to get back to head office to give Peggy the location. Natasha is what they call a widow, she's on a mission and being with you was never part of the plan. 

You went inside, not caring about what Nat and your mother were talking about, you walked by Natasha and hugged your mother tightly. She hugged you back just as tight before you let her free and turned to Nat, "so how about that ice cream?" You asked with a soft smile. Natasha read between the lines and nodded, "do you guys want to come?" You asked looking at both your mothers. 

"You know what, ice cream sounds really good right now" Dottie smiled softly, "Natasha, what do you drive?" She asked. 

"A motorcycle" Nat replied. Dottie looked to Peggy then back to Nat, "How about I drive us" she suggested. 

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[the-monkeies-girl]

Terror. ( Noa x Human!Reader Oneshot. )

Title: Terror. Fandom: ( Kingdom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Pairing: Noa x Human!Reader. Rating: T. ( Mentions of violence, death, nightmares. ) Words: 4.5K+ Summary: Noa was a proud Ape. It was surely something he garnered from his parents and he was never one to rely on others to take his burdens and make them their own. But, there has to come a breaking point. ~*Comments, Likes and Reblogs are really appreciated! Thank you! **DOES CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR KINGDOM OF THE PLANET OF THE APES. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. THANK YOU!

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The vacancy of the bed was almost deafening in nature when you rolled yourself out of unconsciousness. Blurred, your eyes were unable to make out any shapes, any indication of the lonely spot next to you. The way that your hand slid outwards in a bid that maybe he was there, maybe your tired mind was imagining the emptiness, reaching out for the Ape that was always there with you, even when you weren’t aware. Your fingers catapulting against the nature of the animal pelts that you so lovingly embraced on the cold nights that Noa was late to come rest. So very desolate and it felt bitter trying to bargain with yourself why Noa wasn’t there.

Perhaps, you thought in your sleepy slumber and lifted yourself up enough to confirm that the spot next to you was barren, he got up every night and left you. You’d have no premonition regarding; you were often sawing into the throes of sleep and wouldn’t notice him leaving if he did it every night, or at the very least, on a consistent basis. That… Your mind twisted in a boggled way as it was trying to steady itself into a more aware state. That wasn't like Noa at all. In fact, the Chimpanzee was a rather deep sleeper, it took him much to wake up in the morning let alone in the middle of the night, as you suspected from the dim light of the fire buzzing itself into destruction in the corner of the hut.

You groaned softly against the fox pelt that you used as a pillow and found yourself rolling onto your back, staring at the ceiling in pensive silence for a few moments. Surely, you could go back to bed and wake up with Noa there. Maybe, this entire thing was a dream and you were stuck in a strange lucid state inside of your own subconscious, able to move your body, able to think, able to comprehend but still in the fantasies that you were blessed with when the sleep was just that satisfying and deep-seated.

Drawing a deep breath in, your eyes stared holes into the shadows along the shafts of the ceiling above you. How they flickered with the dying light of the fire, how they casted and played along themselves. Sleep was grabbing you from the back and trying to pull you back. The shake of the empty spot next to you kept you teetering against the backdrop of falling under.

Sound snapped you out of the delectable sensation of slumber ravishing at your senses. Jumping slightly, your heart raced and raised to rest uncomfortably at the back of your throat. Automatically, in your already vulnerable state of rest, you went straight into a panic. What was the sound? Without Noa there, there was no protection if you were under attack. In your haze, the vibrations of the sound were similar to the way that the boards of your perched nest would resonate when weight was put on it. Mind racing, you shot up in bed and looked out the small window of your shared hut, grasping tightly at an animal pelt and pressing it into your chest. Yeah, that was going to protect you, your mind quipped sarcastically.

There was an illusion of shadows played against your dilated eyes as they were trying eagerly to come into focus and shift so you could see better in the dark. At least… You thought they were just in your mind but they were too consistent with the sound of wood pressuring underweight. There was… Oh no. Tightening your grasp on the animal pelt in front of you, taking the serious notion that it was going to somehow protect you, you crawled on your knees to the edge of the nest and urged your body to stand.

Your feet hit the planks below with a small ‘thud’, your weight unsteady as you rose and shuffled. It was comedic, you would have figured that if someone saw the way you were moving so synthetically, animal pelt in front of your body, your feet vibrating against the floor, your eyes widened with bleak anticipation as you pressed on towards the entrance of the hut, they’d laugh at your lack of confidence and stance.

You were trying to keep the thoughts at bay. There was not someone outside, it was just the wind. On a steady night. Not one leaf shifted or beckoned to fall off with the push of a simple breeze. Swallowing softly, you stared at the entryway. There was either nothing there or you were about to be killed. Take your choice. That was your brain's way of coping with this. Sarcasm. How great. I could die right now from an aggressive Ape outside and all I can think to do is make a joke.

Slipping your hand against the smoothness of the dark cloth that served as a privacy barrier in the entryway, you were fast to move it to the side and step backwards again, almost tumbling as a response to your body jerking so quickly. Okay, so… There was no one coming in, that was good. Drawing a deep breath in, you took the step you had taken backwards and pushed to move forwards. One step turned into two, three, four… Peeping your head out, you were thankful for the lit fire stakes that were situated all around the village that kept you from complete darkness at night. There was no one to the right, that was great. That was the way to enter the nest. Turning your head, you then rigidly pressed your attention to the left where there was a ledge to either sit and take the sun, or to rest when you didn't want to be in the entanglements of the nest.

You were frozen to the ground for a split second peering at the form you had seen. Contemplating going back into the hut was heavy, but then… Narrowing your eyes, you recognized that hunched over body. The way that the spine curved, almost right into itself, the placement of the feet, broad against the paneling of the wood below, the drift of the shoulders. Noa. Your mind felt a strong sense of relief followed by the euphoric nature of your entire body releasing tension. Raising a hand, you placed it against your heart and told it to calm down. With a bit more fever in your gait, you stepped out from the enclosure of your home and pattered silently to the young Ape.

In all other situations, he was always quick to greet by raising his head in acknowledgement, he was always fascinated in the way that you’d maintain eye contact with him, or the beam of a smile you’d greet him with. This…? Your feet came to a solemn stop, right foot behind the left as you hesitated moving forward. He had to know you were there, there was absolutely no way he wouldn’t be able to smell you with his acute senses. There was no way that you were as quiet as you were trying to be.

Something was wrong. Swallowing hard, you looked over him again, more cognizant than you were before at the idea that something was wrong. The hunch of his shoulders… He was closing in on himself, his head resting against his forearms as he had tightly knitted himself into a ball, knees enclosed by his chest. Glancing out, you noted that he was looking at nothing. Or at least, to your eyes, it appeared like it was just empty space he was floating off into. His shoulders were pulling in, almost defensive in nature. You didn't want to disturb him if he was deep in thought - if he didn't want you there. Obviously, he got out of the nest for a reason, your mind was tangling in on itself, having no clue what to do. But, before any rational premises came upon you, you were speaking.

“Noa?”

You could feel it radiating off of him in waves; the intensity of emotions that Noa was uncertain how to cope with. The smothering sensation he found himself in even though your tender voice, calling out to him from the pit of darkness, was a pull out of suffocation. Noa was beyond tired; his body felt like it was going to close in on itself but his mind was running around in circles around the exhaustion. Not even taking a second's worth of energy to look at you which in itself was abhorrent.

The Ape tightened himself at that. He couldn’t untangle himself enough to look at you, his love, his life, his mate. You came to rest next to him, the placement of the animal pelt against your shoulders enticing him momentarily and suddenly all he wanted was to consume you, to be around you in any aspect, in some bid to get himself grounded and back to a sense of belonging and peacefulness. He sighed- Shoulders rising and falling with increased distress. Green eyes were following the dance of the fire stakes of the village. Rushing from one, to the next, to the next, all the way to the most distant stake - barely a simmer in the darkness at the very edge of the Clan.

You were biding your time, Noa knew you enough that out of his peripheral vision he could sense your fingers playing against the animal fur of the pelt that made the journey out, your eyes drifting between the darkened landscape and Noa himself. He could feel your attempts to analyze his face, so painful to him at the moment, it felt like a hot brand was encasing his chest and he was drowning in flames.

To your dismay, Noa kept his chin tilted downwards so you couldn’t see him; the shadows of the fire kept messing with the perception of his expression. Unsettled silence wrapped the two of you into a blanket of mere suffocation. Noa would say something - anything - just to break it but it felt like he couldn’t. The process his mind was going through - piecing one minor detail to another to build a bigger picture took his obsessive personality to the next level until he had built himself a figurative wall between himself and you.

It was a quiet enough night. The tendered horses in the paddock were snorting to your right and you found yourself drawn to look at them, though admittedly, their forms were hard to make out from the distance. This was the first time you had actually seen the entire village from this perspective; sitting outside of the nest on the ledge was not your favorite thing to do. Looking down was enough to cause your stomach to feel unsettled, so you adamantly avoided gazing straight down. Instead, you focused on the horses. On the fires that Noa also found himself entranced by.

“What… is it…” Noa was the first to break the icy wall he had built, your skin prickling at the mere sound of his words. So rough and baritone now, you swore the vibrations were going to pick you up and throw you over the edge. “Called when… the… things you see are not good?”

Furrowing your eyebrows at his inquiry, you had no idea how to answer without any more context, “What do you mean?” Your voice was a seering knife to him but he found himself drawn to it and wanted nothing more than for it to pierce his sensitive skin.

“The… things,” Raising his hand, he pressed it to his temple. His fingers were furled in on themselves, rigid and assuming emotions that neither of you were able to read. Noa was shut off to you, and Noa himself? The emotions were unread because he couldn’t comprehend them in their entirety. “The things… When I’m sleeping.”

Dreams, your mouth opened to say that but Noa continued on.

“They are… terrible…” His voice cracked as he came to a tapering stop, not willing to repeat himself. Instead, he looked at you for the first time. It felt shattering to see - The slope of his face falling into a grimace of self-destruction. His mouth laid open, something Noa tended to do when he was deep in thought. The delicate wrinkles under his beautifully speckled eyes, peering so desperately at you for some form of solace, freckles lining along the bridge of his brows, along the fur of his head, down the sides of his face. You thought about them for a moment as you looked at him.

No… Not just at him anymore, you passed that the moment you mated. You were looking inside of him. That was a cue for you and you were rather hasty to lift your hand and lightly place it against his cheek. Noa accepted it - or maybe he just didn't have it in him to move away. Shifting in your spot at how unnerved it felt to have him look at you like that, you listened to him carry on in that sickeningly agony-laid voice as your fingers collapsed against the rougher nature of the skin on his face, tickling themselves along his beard like he always enjoyed.

“They are not good… Scare… ” Noa gasped softly and tilted his head into your open palm. Hold me, he said, hold me and tell me what’s happening to me.

Not dreams, you thought.

Biting your bottom lip, you drew a deep breath into your lungs and savored the feeling of pain at the expansion. You figured it was a better feeling than the answer to the question Noa posed. “You’re having nightmares, Noa… They’re the…. The opposite of a good dream…”

“Nightmares,” Always so prompt to respond when you tell him a new word, you were somewhat relieved that he was still Noa enough to do that, “Why?”

That you had no answer to and the two of you found yourself falling into a rather oppressive silence. Noa had his eyes shut as he pressed his face further into your hand, enjoying the closeness of your scent to his nose. It put him in an eased state despite the disparity happening in his thoughts. In the time it took you to move your other hand upwards to entirely cup his face in your grasp, Noa’s body urged itself out of the tightened form it had been in since he left the nest to be outside in deep contemplation. He opened himself up to you, grazing his hands against the ones you had on his face before pulling you into him. Foreheads touched, eyes shut and Noa’s mouth propped open in a split moment of clarity.

“Always,” Noa broke away from you first, but kept a close distance as you began lightly stroking your thumbs along his lower jaw. He always liked that. “Always about Eagle Clan…” His voice narrowed with increased hopelessness, “Fire… So… So much fire. Thought maybe could warn the Eagle Clan before. Was not fast enough… Stupid Noa.” You could feel his jaw clench under your touch as he tried to reserve himself from flying off the metaphorical handle.

Whatever grasp he had, the only thing that was keeping him from letting go was your presence in front of him. “Was Apes who did this… Terrible…” That was one of his favorite words to describe the destruction of the Village, at least, that’s what he often chose when you two were wrapped in that conversation. Not often, once or twice, and he only ever gave you enough details to piece it together vaguely. Never this clear, never this conscious.

“So… so scared…” Swallowed gently, he laid his hands on your shoulders and with that, you dropped the animal pelt to pool around your waist. He was trembling, you could feel it against your skin, “Tried to save Father… Noa is so weak,” Third-person talking often indicated to you a racing mind, he had no time to put it into the right perspective. He didn't need to; you always understood what he was saying. “Couldn’t…”

This was all new information but it didn't take your mind long to process. Noa was having nightmares about the night when his Village was ransacked, his people taken, with many lost, including his Father Koro. Empathy surged over you and it was abundantly overwhelming as you had to watch as Noa crumbled quite literally in your hands. You rose, now shifting yourself onto your knees as you pulled him to move with you.

The animal pelt was forgotten, falling onto the wooden planks below to be remembered at a later date. He complied hazily to your body’s request, twisting his form with yours so you were on your knees in front of him and Noa was sitting, opening his legs for you to slide between them which you were happy to indulge in. You brought his head in to yours again ;Noa fully expecting you to place your forehead against his own - Always the preferred, always the best way to comfort amongst Apes. He shut his eyes in anticipation.

Nothing came for a minute and when Noa lifted his eyelids to look at you, he found himself under your gaze and unable to break the contact. This all felt incredibly Echo. The position of your bodies, you above him and looking down, Noa complacent. He’d only move if you asked him to. Noa looked from one eye to the other, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something. He could see the tears forming around the corner of your eyes even in this dim lighting. He could feel the touch of your fingers, now tangling into his beard with turmoil. Something snapped -

Noa grasped at you, his long arms entirely bringing your body right against his own. Hard in nature, the gasp you let out fell to echo into the night as you reciprocated and grasped him back in a tight hug, arms tangling themselves along his broad upper half to hold his shoulderblades. Noa could snap you in half, it was a thought that always lingered but now? You wanted nothing more than that. You’d let him if it helped him feel better. Noa could beat you down to the ground, his strong fist against your body, if it would just take away the agony he was clearly grappling with. You were clearly grappling with.

You had no words, nothing you were going to say would help and despite your best efforts, you couldn’t speak. Instead, you brought yourself to a physical response that you knew Noa would see as incredibly ‘Echo’. A hug of empathy. Hugging was common with Apes, you knew but this? The press of your ribcage against his muscular chest, the feeling of his long fingers digging into the fabric of your shirt, face drawing itself into the crook of your neck. You wanted to take Noa down with you to forget the world, to forget the nightmares and responsibilities.

Tucking your legs in, you wrapped them around his thinned waist and pressed into him further in a straddle, almost wanting to crawl inside of his warmth, crawl inside of his mind in some attempt to help him understand the nightmares, understand the feelings and the justifications he had to have them. They did not make him weak, they would always make him stronger, though from the feeble way he was holding you, you had no doubt that he couldn’t see that as an outcome.

“Miss him,” Noa whispered against your neck, his breath hot against your skin. It caused a chill to spiral down your spine and it was quick to rest on your tailbone. Noa had swiftly dropped his hands from their captivity around your upper half to centralize on your lower back, pressing with some strength to keep you near to him. More comfortable for both of you. “Miss him so much… Some… Sometimes… wonder if he would…. He…” He couldn’t say it, bringing one hand up to sign before it resumed its placement on the small of your back.

Proud.

You watched him sign with such misery that it felt like your heart was going to sink to the floor below, the ground and then dig into the Earth itself just so it didn't have to rest in the uncomfortable cocoon of your chest. Moving your hands, you drew upwards and lightly dug them into the brown fur at the back of his neck, petting upwards to embed them around his ears. “We’re all proud Noa.” The young Chimp only shifted at your words, not having it in him to agree or disagree. Your voice shot through him though- he was so close to your neck that it felt like each word you spoke was seeping into every pore of his body. Green eyes even watched as your jugular moved as you verbalized, taking time to admire that, taking time to focus on something that wasn’t antagonistic. “I--- I know your Father would be proud.”

He scoffed at that, “Did not know him.”

You groaned to yourself. Right. Empathy like this was a foreign concept and it often left Noa defensive if you weren’t more careful around it.

“Just one of those Echo things.” It was apparent that Noa wasn’t in the mood to joke and you slapped yourself mentally for even trying. Dropping your shoulders, you craned your head down. Lightly shifting a hand from around his ear, you aided Noa in lifting his head so you could look at him again. Not angry, not jokingly, not empathetic… But as one. One bonded pair.

“But, I know you, Noa…” You could see him swallow, feeling him pushing on your back in a frenzied notion to get you as close as possible, to get you to comfort him further until he felt nothing else. Your hand lifted and you placed it against his bottom lip. You held his entire chin in a pinched grasp. “I know you… How strong you are, how much of a Leader you are everyday…” He snapped his head away from your grasp in a vicious movement to look off in the distance, “Noa, you need to listen to me.”

The scold in your voice made him pause for a second before he looked back at you hesitantly, green eyes no longer accepting like they had been and they were quick to turn defensive. Noa was waiting for you to continue but you found your mouth dry at the pure emotions now collapsing against him. You shut your mouth and swallowed, trying hard to lubricate enough to say something, anything to him, before he shoved you aside to leave. Shoved you aside to cope, shoved you aside forever… Tightening your grasp around his ear, you grappled for a full handful of his mildly-coarse fur, your other hand resuming its position. You grabbed his chin and forced him to look at you, whether he wanted to or not, assuming that if he did not, he’d move to push you off or tell you to stop.

“Look at what you’ve done… You--- You rebuilt. The Clan, the Elders… They’re all so grateful to you, Noa. Look at your Mother.” Noa perked up. “Look at Soona, Anaya… Look at me, Noa.”

That was either a demand or you were just finishing your statement, Noa couldn’t tell but he found himself looking deep into you to the point where it felt like you were unable to catch your breath, unable to reach for anything or anyone else. His fingers were digging roughly into your skin despite the fabric of your shirt being a buffer. Aware of the bruises that were going to be there tomorrow, you drew yourself inwards and placed your forehead against his. “I-I’m sorry… About your Father… About the nightmares… But you can’t do it alone.”

That got him irrationally irritated as he began bargaining inside of his mind, “Do not want to bring you into this,” Noa muttered under his breath and lifted one of his hands to grasp at the back of your head. You were not moving from him anymore, you were keeping your forehead against his, even if it meant that the back of your skull was turned into fine dust from the pressure of his touch. “Can not. Too much pain,” Gasping softly at the feeling of his fingers tangling into your hair, you braced a hand against his chest. “But I can… Can’t stop…” His voice wavered around the edge in crinkled grief, “I want to do this alone, but you…” Noa was searching for any explanation, any formidable thought that his words made any sense but there was none. “I… need…” You.

Noa finally crumpled against you, dropping his head and placing it against the bridge between your breasts. Much like a child to their mother, you grasped around his head and pulled him into you further. Sleep was no longer on the horizon. Your senses were shot, but you were sure when you and Noa ended up back in the nest, sleep would not come easy to either of you and you’d roll into the comfortable silence and intimate nature of how he gazed at you, petting you with his eyes as he’d bring you closer, closer… But for right now, on the ledge outside of the nest you made with him, you didn't feel like moving. You didn't feel like speaking.

You only felt Noa.

[sturniolos-blog]

reader (w/ matt) who struggles w/ an eating disorder and while matt was on tour it became worse, and when he arrived back from tour he finds her passed out on the bathroom floor and noticeably underweight (only if you’re comfortable)

Eating Disorder PT2 - Matt Sturniolo x Y/n oneshot

warnings - eating disorder, throwing up, fainting, insecure, swearing, mentions of blood

disclaimer: third person POV

—————————

8:09pm

Eating was always a problem for Y/n. Growing up a bit bigger, not fat no. But to her she was more than fat, to herself she was huge.

Always comparing herself. ‘What if i was that size?’ ‘What if i went down 10 pounds?’ ‘I wish i was that weight’ ‘I wish i looked like madi’

And the list went on.

So this brought her here, one evening, while her amazing husband Matt was on tour, brought her in the bathroom, sitting on the floor in front of the toilet puking her brains out after she had stuck her finger down her throat because she thought she ate too much, but now she couldn’t stop, throwing up so much her stomach started hurting.

She finally let out one last gag before lifting her head up letting out a pained groan, standing up and flushing the toilet as she wiped her mouth with her sleeve.

Right before everything went black.

—————

9:14pm

“She’s not answering. It’s been 6 hours since i last talked to her, guys.” Matt sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“Well, Matt, she’s probably okay, she could be sleeping.” Nick comforted, putting his hand on Matt’s back, rubbing softly.

Chris nods his head, agreeing with Nick.

But Matt shakes his head, “You guys don’t know my wife, I know my wife. And i know she’s not asleep at nine o clock.” Matt lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Okay, Matt, calm down.” Chris lets out a scoff.

Matt stands up, “Don’t tell me to calm down!” Matt raises his voice, pointing at Chris.

As Nick and Chris look at each other and not say anything Matt shakes his head, “I-i’m sorry. Sorry.” He swallows harshly and takes a breath before sitting back down. “It’s just.. we’ve been going through a bad patch lately, right before I left for tour. She wasn’t okay, guys. She wasn’t.” Matt tears up, looking up at his brothers before wiping his eyes.

—————————

before Matt left for tour

“Matt, stop.” Y/n stood up from the kitchen chair.

“You haven’t eaten all day, Y/n. Come on, sweetheart.” Matt says, putting his hand on Y/n’s shoulder.

“I’m not hungry! God, do you listen?!” Y/n raises her voice at Matt.

This happened a lot through Y/n’s eating disorder, it made her moody and mean to the people she loves. Matt understood that so he kept his composure.

“You have to be hungry, babe, i haven’t seen you eat in like two days.” Matt shakes his head, a soft look on his face.

Y/n groans, “Because you’re never here! You’re always at work-”

“No. We are not doing this, you are not doing this. You are not going to turn this around on me so i feel bad. Y/n, you have a problem and if you don’t eat then im calling your therapist.” Matt threatened, looking down at her.

Y/n sighed, rubbing her head before sitting down and looking at the plate of food Matt had made her.

It was steak, mash potatoes, and green beans. She almost threw up at the sight of it.

“A couple bites is all i’m asking for, baby.” Matt says softly, putting a hand on her back.

Y/n picks up the fork that was laid neatly on the plate before grabbing the knife also.

Her hands were shaky, making it hard for her to cut the steak. When Matt realized this he grabbed the utensils from her hand and cut the steak in tiny pieces for her.

He puts the knife down before using the fork to pick up a now cut piece of steak.

Matt uses his other hand to put it on Y/n’s jaw, his thumb tracing her jawline softly.

“Open.” He instructed as she looked at him nervously.

Y/n slowly opened her mouth as Matt stuck the piece of steak in there, she almost gagged but instead she took the steak off the fork and held it in her mouth.

“Chew, baby, come on, n/n.” Matt sighed as he watched her.

Matt watched as her jaw started moving as she chewed the piece of food in her mouth, a couple more times before he watched her swallow it.

“Good job, sweetheart.” Matt smiled, kissing her cheek softly, making her half smile.

“Couple more?” Matt suggested, making Y/n nod slightly.

—————————

present time (9:16 pm)

“Her eating disorder is back?” Chris asked, his mouth slightly dropped in shock.

Matt lets out a breath and shrugs, “I guess.” Matt says quietly before he puts his face in his hands. “I shouldn’t have left her. God, i’m a terrible husband. My wife is probably starving herself and…” Matt trails off before he stands up and puts on his jacket.

“What are you doing?” Nick looks at Matt with a confused look on his face.

“I need to go see my wife now.” Matt says, an angry tone defined in his voice as he grabs his keys.

Chris let’s out a laugh in disbelief, “You’re gonna leave tour?” He asks, shaking his head at his brother.

“I care much more about my wife then i do this stupid fucking tour. I’m fucking leaving.” Matt spits, leaving the hotel room.

Chris and Nick look at each other in silence.

“What the fuck just happened?” Nick scoffed.

Chris shook his head, “No clue.” Before taking a sip of his pepsi.

—————————

10:34pm

It took Matt over an hour to drive home, him immediately rushing in the house after he had pulled in to the drive way.

“Baby!? I’m home, sweetheart!” He called out, throwing his keys down before checking the downstairs, not seeing Y/n anywhere.

He let out a nervous sigh before he practically ran upstairs, his eyes catching glimpses of the light coming through the opened bathroom door.

His eyes then trail down to a body.

His wife.

“Y/n!” Matt yelled, running into the bathroom and on his knees, taking her body into his arms, him letting out a pathetic sob at the sight of his wife.

The unconscious girl had a cut on her forehead, presumably from when she fell.

Matt sniffled as some of his tears dropped onto Y/n’s shirt.

He had his phone in his hand and was dialing 911, whispering a couple of “Come on, baby..”’s or “Please, Y/n.. please”

“911, what’s your emergency?” A female operator was heard after a couple rings.

“M-my wife! I need an ambulance! I came home and she was on the bathroom floor passed out! Please!” Matt sobbed, another hand going to her cheek.

“Okay, sir, they are on the way. What’s your wife’s name?” The lady asked.

“Y/n. Y/n sturniolo. Please, please get here.” He whimpered out.

“Okay, again they are on the way. And what is your name, sir?” The lady questioned, sounds of clicking from her keyboard coming through the line.

“Matthew sturniolo.” He breathed out before letting out another sob. “Please, my wife-”

“Okay, Matt? I need you to take a couple breaths for me. I need you to answer these questions with a clear head can you do that for me?” The lady spoke calmly, making Matt let out an almost incoherent ‘mhm’ but it was loud enough for her to hear it.

“Great. Now, is Y/n still breathing?”

Matt’s eyes glanced to her belly that rose and fell with every breath, making him nod to himself and then speak to the lady. “Y-yeah, she’s breathing.” He spoke.

“Okay, good, Matt. Good. The ambulance is on the way and should be there in 3 minutes tops, in the meantime take some breaths of your own.” The nice operator constructed.

Matt nodded even though the lady couldn’t see her. He took breaths. His thoughts racing.

My baby.

She’s alright.

You’re not dead, Y/n.

You’re with me.

His thoughts kept going until he heard sirens.

—————————

9:37am (next morning)

Y/n slowly opened her eyes, immediately being blinded by sunlight that was shining through the windows.

She rubbed her eyes before taking in her surroundings.

Monitor. Couch. Windows. Flowers. But most importantly Matt.

He had his eyes on his phone, not noticing Y/n had waken up.

Y/n cleared her throat, “Matt?” She whispered.

Matts head shot up, along with his whole body immediately standing up. “Hi, baby.” He smiled softly at her, bringing one of his hands to push hair out of her face.

Y/n smiled before she looked around again, “How’d i get here?” She asked, her voice scratchy and quiet.

Matt shook his head, “You had an accident, baby. You fell and hit your head.” He told her.

Y/n scrunched her eyebrows, picking up her hands to see that an iv was in her right wrist and a hospital bracelet on her left. She let out a small, ‘huh’

Matt looks at Y/n before a knock at the door brings them both to look that way, a doctor walked in.

“Y/n, good to see you. So, do you know what happened?” The doctor asked, sitting on a stool.

Y/n nodded, “Matt told me i fell and hit my head.”

The doctor glanced at Matt and nodded, “Right. But you fell because of something, do you know what that something is?” The doctor asked her.

Y/n knew, 100%. Matt knew that she knew. Y/n knew Matt knew that she knew. But that didn’t change her answer. “No..” She said quietly, making Matt rub his face.

“You haven’t had proper meals lately. You passed out from not enough protein in your body. When’s the last time you ate a good meal?” The doctor continued to question.

Y/n shrugged, “More than a week ago, i guess.” She sighed, avoiding eye contact with Matt as his jaw dropped slightly.

He left for tour a week ago. This broke Matt’s heart.

The doctor nodded, “Okay well you have two IV’s in your arm, one keeping you hydrated and one giving you some nutrients. We’d like to keep you for another night but after that you are free to go.” She smiled.

Y/n nodded, “Thank you.” She mumbled as the doctor nodded back before leaving the room.

After a couple seconds of silence Matt speaks up, “You could’ve talked to me.”

“You left.” Y/n whispered.

“But if i had known what was going on beforehand then i wouldn’t have, Y/n!” Matt raises his voice at her, making her look at him with glassy eyes. He sighed, “I’m sorry. I just love you so much and if you keep doing this then i’m going to lose you a-and that can’t happen. Okay? It can’t!” Matt let out a sob, putting his face in his hands.

Y/n grabbed his wrist, “Come here, baby.” She muttered as she pulled him onto the bed with her.

He left out a couple more sobs as his head ended up on her chest, her fingers running through his hair.

“You won’t lose me, Matt. Never ever.” She said, kissing his head.

—————————

um anyway

taglist: @sturniolosmind @novasturniolo03 @hearts4chriss @vinniehackerslefttoe @christhopersturniolo @mattybswife @streamermattsgf @sturnolio-luvs @sturnioloslurps @marlenafortuna @lovergirl4387 @sturniololovesss

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Therapy

Logan Sargeant x Fem!Reader

TW: hurt/comfort & cursing

F1 Masterlist

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

instagram

Logan's been so focused on working out that he hasn't noticed that his phone has been ringing the past minute and a half, not at least until there's a banging on his home gyms door.

Logan's head snaps towards the door at the sudden noise, taking long but cautious strides to see who's there, opening it only to reveal a less than pleased Y/N standing there.

"Hey," Logan says breathless as he wipes sweat from his forehead "You could've called first"

a scoff leaves Y/N's mouth "I just did, you've blowing me off this past week. I need you to talk to me"

Logan's first season in Formula 1 wasn't the best, he was a bit underweight, not following the diet his trainer gave him and he wasn't managing his energy well in the car which would burn him out and either made him DNF or finish last, which was really getting to him.

"I'm working out, Y/N, I'm busy." he pants, going right back into the exercise he briefly put on hold.

"You're gonna make their weight requirement in the next 10 minutes?" Y/N spat, a little harsher then she intended it to come out but she still stood her ground, making Logan stop and stare at her.

"Thanks you for being so supportive of my work" Logan said with sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"Because you've been such a champion of mine?" Y/N scoffed. It's true, Y/N just recently signed a contract with WWE's developmental program NXT and not even a single congratulation from her boyfriend.

Logan turned around, fire burning in his eyes "What's that supposed to mean?"

Y/N looks back with an icy stare "What do you think it means?"

Logan just stares at her dumbfounded which causes Y/N to pinch the bridge of her nose in frustration before she continues, "I'm sorry, I'm not allowed to talk about my needs? What needs?"

"Did I say that?" His eyebrows knit in confusion as he stares at her urging her to explain.

"You didn't have to say it, it's implied." She rubs her forehead in anger

Logan whips around in utter confusion "How is it implied?"

"You're the athlete and I'm the girlfriend. That's how you feel right?" That causes Logan's hands to cover his eyes and roughly rub his temples as he senses an argument brewing.

Logan absolutely hated arguing with his girlfriend, but ever since his first season started that's all they ever seemed to do. Logan left the TV on all night? Argument. Logan ate something he shouldn't have? Argument. Y/N left her shower towel on top of Logans beach towel? Argument. Y/N forgot to lock the ferret in the cage and now Logan's keys are missing and he's late to a very important William's meeting (he wasn't making it anyway, he took too long acting like Taylor Swift during the ERAS tour in the shower)? Argument.

"Can we talk about this later, please" Logan tries to change the subject so he can finish his workout

"When Logan? When is later?" Y/N raises her voice an octave higher than she intended.

"Not tonight," Logan said, tears of frustration forming on the brims of his eyes threatening to spill.

His response made Y/N's face contort with anger in a way he's never seen before that he made a mental note of never to make her that mad again because he was scared.

"I have been working out all day. I have up since 4 this morning. I have tried to make their weight requirement for a week, and I am nowhere!" Logan yells, those tears of frustration once threatening to spill have now poured out his eyes with more following in pursuit.

"I've been telling you how unhappy I am for months!" tears have now also started flowing out Y/N's eyes as they argue.

"Everyone's unhappy in Miami! That's what Miami is!" Logan screamed has he throws a 5 pound dumbbell on the floor by the bench

"I don't know how to get through to you anymore. You keep shutting me out! You keep putting up these fences!" Y/N's hands tremble in anger as she throws them up, running her fingers through her hair

"I'm not, I'm not shutting you out" Logan states as he wipes the tears from his face but to no avail as more tears spill from his green eyes

"You're a million miles away all the time" Y/N's voice trembles as she lets the tears free flow.

"Actually, I'm right here." Logan says with the straightest face you can have as a crying arguing mess of a man

"Are you Logan? Actually? Cause I know you" Y/N says as the tears slowly stop falling.

"You're right. I've been distracted, but I promise you, after I make this requirement-" before Logan could finish his statement, he gets cut off

"After the requirement?" Y/N whispers in disbelief

"After the requirement!" Logan confirms in a harsh tone

"Everything is after the requirement!" Y/N screams

"Yeah"

"What if you make the requirement and nothing happens? No William's contract extension? You don't go straight to point positions? You're still a bad driver, You still DNF, You don't get signed with anyone else? What then, Logan? What about me?!" The tears that briefly stopped streaming down her face started back up and flowed faster than this time.

"I can't move with you to Orlando. I can't leave my career behind" Logan ripped off the band-aid, he couldn't put off the real reason he's been avoiding this topic, why he's been avoiding Y/N.

"You think I don't know that?" she trembled.

"What," Logan stops, unsure of what she means and what he wants to say next, a million thought in his mind at what his girlfriend just said to him, but not one of those questions are coming out of his mouth right now "What are you...? What is this? What do you want?" he finally manages to choke out

"I guess I just, I wanted you to tell me not to go" Y/N finally lets out and that's when all the emotion she's been bottling up for months comes out, unable to stop the sobs she chokes out. She's a shaking sobbing mess on the floor and all Logan could do was just stare. He knew she'd been hurting at his cold shoulder treatment but he didn't think it hurt her this bad. He couldn't believe that he was watching her hurt this bad because of him and there was only one question floating in the back of his mind...

why don't I feel bad?

[merakiui]

Oh god mera... when reader finally gives birth and the baby looks just like stepbrother Sunday...

AAAAAA the sheer horror that would creep in through all of the exhaustion once you notice features that resemble your dear stepbrother........ orz

Sunday dotes on you so very much, and he's immensely stressed after you've given birth. Flitting around like a bird trying to ensure you're content. Everything must be perfect for you and your recovery. He almost doesn't trust the medical professionals whose job revolves around this. He's just so anxious, though to others that may seem like he's just being overly paranoid and protective over your health and well-being. Only he's allowed to touch you. He worries the others might break you or the baby if they lay their hands on either of you.

Your little girl is small and underweight, but she's warm in your arms. Your entire world is swathed in a soft baby blanket. You kiss her forehead to soothe her cries, and Sunday watches this display so fondly. She's Halovian just like you, and you hope to find more of yourself in her as she grows up.

You're stewing over names when she opens her eyes and they're such a brilliant hue. Very similar to a certain someone... in fact, now that you're looking at her, she has a lot of Sunday's features.

Suddenly, it makes sense. Why he was so obsessively supportive. Why he hasn't left your side since you learned you were pregnant. Why, even now, he just won't leave you alone.

This is Sunday's baby. Your stepbrother is the father of this child and you had no idea for the entirety of your pregnancy.

[moondirti]

i’m so sorry but i’m such a simp for big men in masks. this is very self indulgent buuuuut could i request a ghost x reader who is shy and relatively unexperienced with sex? like has been with maybe 1-2 people but kinda just let them take charge? also really want some size difference in there too if possible? like i’m 5’6ish and underweight due to health issues but i can’t stop thinking about being tossed around by that mountain of a man

i have no excuse on why this took so long to get to babe, i'm sorry! he might be ooc in this idk, i just got done with a lengthy price oneshot so i need to warm up on ghost. corruption kink with ghost warnings: size kink, painful sex (kinda)

You don't tell him - not on your own volition, anyway.

But Ghost has seen you gut men twice your size, ripping their pancreas from between cracked ribs, dousing your hands in viscous red that still encrusts your cuticles days afterwards. You hold your weight on the team, your ledger stained with anyone who dares question it. He doesn't ask, but he only assumed the brash confidence to extend to every aspect of your being.

Which is why, when he cups your face or growls an obscene request in your ear, it throws him off guard to see you withdraw. Flushed, your cheeks warm with babydoll humility. You've never wavered with anything as much as you did him; not death, not merciless fusillade. It's a bizarre contradiction with everything he had you pinned down as.

It doesn't take him long to figure out why. You eventually blossom, just the slightest bit, and find yourself in his bed mere hours later.

"Gorgeous fuckin' thing. About stuff you full."

"Haah- I... You're huge, shit."

"You're a big girl, pet, you can take it."

"I've never- fuck! Slow down, please, please..."

His body locks at the first crack of your voice. You've got your face hidden in his shoulder, tucked between his neck and a thick muscle. He can't see it, but he knows. Your lashes flutter, damp on his skin, a hot pool of fresh tears trekking the scant space between you.

Simon pulls out, only a third of the way in, and detaches from you. He doesn't exactly have the words for comfort - his vocabulary whittled down to military jargon and bad jokes - but he rests his hand on your calf while he waits for you to collect yourself.

It's enough. A voiceless agreement permeates your relationship, some quick-trick tool for times when war unravels; one nod over the body of a gun, a pat on the shoulder as you fight your separate ways. It holds relevance, always, even now.

So he waits, because it's the only thing he can do. Waits, and reels over what went wrong. He'd thrown you over his face, sucking your honeyed slick directly from the source, until your body shook with concerning violence. He'd pumped you with two fingers, stretching your tight hole in preparation. He'd kneaded your supple flesh until you spilled to a puddle underneath him. All of it has usually sufficed before now.

It isn't your full-bodied heaves stop that you break the silence.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. You didn't do anything, it was just... overwhelming. I've only ever been with one person before, and they were-"

"Bad."

"Smaller, asshole. God-"

He grabs your wrist, wrapping it in a large hand.

"Did I hurt you?"

"Not nearly. Just-" You gesture to yourself. "Like I said. Overwhelming."

"Shy, then."

"Si-"

You're practically squished when he bends over you, full lips grazing your jaw when he gruffs his intrusion.

"We have all night, pet. Plenty of time to get you to open up."