#I just like the idea of a doll making more dolls

[wonryllis]

PREVIEW2 : the hot dad next door (m) | park sunghoon.

﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝘁 𝗱𝗮𝗱 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗼𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂?

preview. the ever quintessential first time dad moves in next door with his five year old and finds it impossible not to fall for you, the pretty girl who gives his daughter cookies and him; the doll eyes. obsessed with your entire being, unable to keep his hands off you, park sunghoon questions if he's just crazy or he's crazy over you.

or where, he notices the way you look at his hands a little too long for it to be innocent.

meet the cast. single dad!park sunghoon with his pretty neighbour fem!reader.

genre. DILFF AUU !!, SMUT MDNI, fluff, neighbours to lovers, sunghoon is quite literally yes insanely crazed over you and for the sake of god can't keep his dick soft, domestic a little bit i guess, i want to make her my wife trope EEEKKK, slight age gap (hoon in late twenties and reader in early twenties) more to be added.

word count. 1.2k for this preview and around 20k for the whole fic.

warnings. inaccuracies about parenting cause i aint a parent, i got no idea. some hot making out in this one, dad sunghoon tired bothered from work yes it's a warning. more will be mentioned in the actual post.

check out the first preview!

"is ji— " sunghoon stands again at your door, few days later on the weekend. this time more formally dressed than normal, adorning a sleek tight fitted vest and a navy blue blazer with buttons fastened at his waist. hair styled and glasses sitting prettily on his nose bridge. the sweat trickling down his forehead and the heaviness in his breath making you feel things despite knowing it's because he's worried about his daughter with how late he got back.

"she's here don't worry, just fell asleep while waiting for you," you reassure his distraught self. being a single and new father took a much harder toll on him at times like these when he couldn't be with his angel and he honestly didn't know how he'd survive if it weren't for you.

his job asked a lot of him and he couldn't always asks his friends and family to look over her, to have someone like you beside him was a breath of relief.

"i'm sorry, the meeting lasted longer than i thought and then traffic—" he tries explaining, wishing you aren't fed up of him and his daughter yet.

"it's okay sunghoon, everything's fine. do you wanna have some wine before you go?"

in hopes of easing his stress and let his mind have a rest, you offer in a feeble tone of expectation.

sunghoon nods, sighing as he takes off his shoes slow and tired. trudging behind you as you walk over to the fridge to bring out the heavy bottle. you look up to smile at him across the counter while he slips off his blazer and folds up his sleeves, there's no way he does not know what he's doing. but then loser clueless sunghoon really is not aware of the effect his exposed arms have on you. his friends and colleagues have told and he probably remembers it at the back of his mind, but the thing is, he is not really trying at this moment, he's just tired from work.

hot and bothered. and being alone with you in a room like this is just making him feel hotter.

it takes him a second but when he notices you struggle to get the wine glasses from the shelf, he does not think much before walking over and grabbing them for you. his body behind yours, chest touching your back and with his hands stretched out it's like you trapped between him and the counter. the scent of your shampoo hits his nose and that's what makes him realize just how close he is to you.

he stands still for a moment, trying to inhale as much of you as he can, but when he feels you shift, about to turn around, he's immediately snapping out of it; stepping back in an instant.

"i-i'm sorry, just noticed you needed help so," he mumbles apologetically, rubbing the back of his neck in shyness like usual and yet again unaware of how much you did not want him to be sorry.

"yes, thank you sunghoon," you smile at him despite the little tinge of frustration at the back of your subconscious.

leading him to the couch, and sitting awfully close to him on purpose you put the glasses on the tea table, pouring in the wine as you discreetly watch him shift nervously beside you. sunghoon feels distressed and troubled, once again he can smell you the tingles of white musk playing his nostrils. and he can also feel your thigh rubbing against his, albeit obstruct by the fabric of his suit pant, still very much obvious. perhaps the wine will help him calm down.

"so how was your day?" you hand him the glass, taking your own and staring at him as you take a sip, waiting for him to answer.

you listen in patience as he rants about how all that could go wrong went wrong at work. gazing over features, and the way his clothes hugged him right. at some point, his brows furrow and he starts to frown, looking towards the balcony as he speaks.

it bothers you for some reason, you don't want him to be so stressed. with the slight intoxication of the wine in your system, you reach forward to take his glasses off, putting them away on the table alongside your empty wine glass. and tugging him closer by his wrinkled tie leave a little wet kiss, a spilt second of a first move and sunghoon swears he feels all his hesitations disappear.

his breath slows down and his face relaxes for that short moment your lips touch, internally malfunctioning at the situation, short circuiting in stillness, wide eyes and unmoving lips.

however as soon as he sees at the dazed look in your doll eyes when you pull away, all his nervousness flies out, for all he can think of is the way your lips moved on his, and how addicting it felt, like something he wanted to feel every single moment he possibly could.

"fuck," he pulls you back by the back of your head, quite literally engulfing your lips in a sloppy kiss, going berserk over the feel of you. his hands are quick to slip to your thighs carressing up and down a few times before grabbing them to haul you onto his lap. it's a mess. he can't seem to stop, kissing over your lips over and over again in soft nibbles, sometimes dragging a moment to suck on them. hands once again carressing from your thighs to your waist, holding you tight in his arms by there, yanking you closer.

it takes everything in him to pull away but it's only to catch and breath and there's no way he's letting this chance go. tucking a strand of hair behind your ear while your sweaty foreheads rest against each other.

just as he's leaning back in, still breathless,"dada?" the sound of jia's voice down the hall has you both immediately pushing away and sitting back down on the couch properly. sunghoon brushes back his wet hair and tugs at his tie before standing up to get his daughter.

"yes baby, dada's back. come on, let's go back," the way he picks her up and walks over to you makes your insides tingle, still not over the kiss.

"we're gonna be going then, thank you for—" sunghoon's eyes linger over the wine glasses and how messed up you look and he gulps before he continues,"having us over," his words sound deeper yet more innocent than the seductive meaning behind them.

you watch them walk out the door, waving jia and sunghoon good night as they unlock their front door and go in.

inside, his blazer still hung over the edge of the couch. a testament to the reality of all things that happened in the room. of it being more than just a dream. you enjoyed having jia over and taking care of her, it was never a nuisance and the fact that if you were to be together with sunghoon she would be your daughter too sounded more of a gift than a burden. you understood his situation, and despite not yet knowing of how and where jia's mom is, you trust him.

it was the start of a something sunghoon never wanted to end. and he could only hope you'd feel the same way. if only he knew how you felt.

[rollingeevee]

good god your bite post has invaded my mind and it hasn't left since i read it, it's spinning in my brain like in a microwave

all i can think about is shadow milk's little (prey) lover running away and getting somewhat far, thinking they're actually getting away with it until the bite's effects kick in and suddenly it's so hard to think and move and where were they going anyway? what if they just sat down and stared into space for a while? that would feel nice, right?

the magic oozing from the bite squeezing their brain and soul, making everything feel heavy and fuzzy until shadow milk just strolls by, clicks his tongue, teases them a little for trying to leave and goes to pick them up and bring them back

there's no kicking and screaming, they cannot muster up the mental strength to do it, just slight bitter resignation on their part as they can do nothing but accept their fate and perhaps try again at a later date but there's a little voice at the back of their head that doesn't understand why they were running away in the first place, a voice that urges them to melt into their captor's touch (totally not shadow milk's doing guys no it's all you)

mental and magical manipulation? it's more likely than you think!

bonus points if the bite mark's pain gets duller/softer when they behave for their beast

anyway thank you for sharing your thoughts your writing is amazing and if you have more ideas related to the bites i am begging i am on my knees-

AAAAAA I’m so glad to hear you liked it so much! 😭 /VVVPOS

Ooooooo! I quite like this! I can definitely see smth similar happening! Personally tho, I see Shadow Milk taking a more manipulative approach to when he finds his lil runaway darling again. I wrote a lil blurb below to showcase :)

The further you got from the Spire, the more relief you felt. By the Witches… you’d done it! You were free!

You suddenly let out a choked gasp as you feel an incredibly painful tightening sensation in your chest. You fall to your knees, clutching at your heart. Your mind is empty as your body feels like it is being squeezed, your breath continuously escaping, despite your desperation to pull in air.

“Oh, goodness!” You hear his voice exclaim. “What happened to you, doll?”

What happened? What happened?! What… what did happen…? You were running… Yes, you were running from the Spire! But… why…?

Shadow Milk Cookie tuts sympathetically as he gently scoops you into his arms. “Oh, poor dear… Did you get lost? I told Candy Apple Cookie and Black Sapphire Cookie to keep an eye on you and ensure your safety!” He cradles you close to his chest as he makes his way back to the Spire. “Don’t worry, dollface~ Your darling jester, Shadow Milk Cookie, has arrived to save the day! I’ll make sure to get you back home where you belong in no time!” He finishes his declaration with a sweet kiss to your neck, where you can faintly detect a throbbing pain that seems to ease in response to his affection.

Where you belong…? Yes… Yes, right back where you belong… That’s a nice thought…

So why is your heart crying out that something is wrong…?

WEEEEEE! So yes, I can definitely see manipulation being there (it’s Shadow Milk, whaddya expect?), but I can see the magic from the bite invading the mind as it simultaneously attacks the body. You weren’t running for freedom, you just got lost while playing a game. Luckily, your sweet Beast, Shadow Milk Cookie, was able to find you in time before anything terrible could happen to you~! So stay, where it’s safe, and where you’re always within arms reach~

In addition to that, I love the idea of the pain getting duller and duller the more a Beast’s darling behaves for them! I added onto that a lil and made it so that, in addition to that, the only other way for the pain to dull is from direct affection to the bite area by the Beast. This gives further incentive to the darling to be well behaved and compliant for their Beast.

I may try to do lil snippets or one shots for each of the Beasts and their bites going into effect later on, given how much people seemed to like them, but we’ll see! I hope you enjoyed this tho! :D

[hotgeniusreid]

Have you ever tried… This position?

Aaron Hotchner x F! Reader

Mentions of: Sex, P in V (wrap it b4 you tap it), riding (SAVE A HORSE RIDE A COWBOY YEEHAW), oral (M! Receiving), not proofread we die like men

!!!NSFW/MINORSS DNI YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!!!

One thing you had come to realize since your relationship with the BAUs Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner was that without a doubt, he was a very dominant man. He’d soften up when he’d come home from work and see Jack, but in bed? The dominance continued, not that you were complaining but you had spent many lonely nights wondering what it would be like to be on top just once, would he lose his composure? What noises would he make?

You sighed, once again losing focus on the book you were reading, letting out a groan of frustration and tossing the book on the couch, you were losing your mind over something so trivial, you loved being under him, but the thought of being the one on top had you spiraling, you had to experience it at least once and then you’d stop obsessing over it. Standing up from the couch, you had made a decision, thankfully Jack was away at his aunts house for the night, and Aaron was coming tonight from a rather difficult case, you had made up your mind, your were going to ride this man like if your life depended on it.

You had it all planned out, hopping out of the shower, you blow dried and styled your hair, and slipped on your favorite lingerie, a baby blue lace babydoll nightgown with matching lace panties, one night during a girls night with the BAU girls, you had confessed that you had a thing for buying pretty lingerie, you never really had the chance to wear them though, because Aaron always cut right to the chase, always taking you to the room and commanding you to strip with that dominant tone. You did your makeup subtly, and dolled yourself up with some jewelry, spraying his favorite perfume you own, and slipping a short silk white robe on top. Looking at the time, you realized you still had more than enough time to cook dinner and set up the table.

The sound of the door opening and keys being dropped into the bowl by the door signalled that Aaron was finally home, you slipped out of the kitchen and met him at the door, “Hi honey, how was the case?” You murmured as you wrapped your arms around him, standing on your tiptoes to press your lips to his, his arm wrapped around your back as he returned the kiss, “A bit tiring, but we managed to catch the unsub, how are you? Where’s Jack?” He asked, looking around, waiting for Jack to come out and welcome him home. “Jack is having a sleepover with Jessica tonight, said something about a movie night.” You smiled softly, “Come to the table, I just finished making dinner, it’s your favorite.” Turning around, you walked off to the kitchen, his eyes finally raked over your body, breath hitching at the fact that you were wearing the smallest silk robe that looked so nice against your body, he could feel himself growing hard, if only he knew what was under.

He walked into the kitchen, the smell of a home cooked meal making him smile, he loved you more than you could ever know, and seeing you do something so domestic such as serving him food truly made him appreciate just how much you did for him and Jack. He wrapped his arms around you as you began serving the food onto plates, “All right, what’s the big idea hm? Cooking my favorite meal, and looking so pretty, what did I do to deserve this?” You let out a giggle, throwing your head back against him, taking in the fact he was home, “nothing, just wanted to show you how much I missed you, I also happened to have a lot of free time today.” A chuckle escaped him as he shook his head, “Honey you spoil me, takeout and a movie would have been just fine, unless, there’s an ulterior motive for this?” He said, his hand stopping at the tie on your waist. Setting the plate down on the counter, you froze, had he really found you out? Turning around and looking at him with a pout, “Me? Ulterior motive? You wound me Aaron. But maybe I suppose you might be right.” You murmured sensually, turning around and pressing a kiss to his neck, he let out a low hum as he gripped your waist. “I think dinner can wait a little longer, I think I’m hungry for something else.” He said, his voice deep and wanting.

In an instant, his hands were at the tie of your robe, loosening it, a groan fought its way out of his throat at the sight of your lingerie that he was not expecting, his eyes raking down your body, he took in how well the lingerie hugged your curves, he licked his lips, “God you look so fucking pretty baby, this all for me?” You nodded your head, “Why don’t we go to the room?” You said turning around and walking to your shared room, swaying your hips, his pupils dilated, taking in the sight of your ass, he palmed his now achingly hard cock, ridding himself of his shoes and following you to the room. He closed the door behind himself and the moment the door closed he was on you, bringing your body against his, his erection pressed against your ass as you let out a mewl, you wanted to submit to him right then and there, but you remembered the task at hand.

You turned him around so that his back was facing the bed, you pressed your lips to his and walked him backward til his legs hit the end of the bed. Aaron sat down, you dropped down, knees on the floor, looking up at him through your lashes, you began to palm his hard cock through his slacks, a low rumble sounding in his throat, you smiled at him, “Aaron your so handsome.” You murmured, “Especially like this.” You breathed, unbuttoning and unzipping his slacks, bringing them down enough for his cock to spring free. Your mouth always watered at the sight of Aaron’s cock, long and girthy, the tip red and angry, with a pearl of precum adorning it, you licked a long strip from base to tip, before taking his tip in your mouth, a sigh escaping from him as he tangled his hands in your mouth. “You always look so pretty, but your so gorgeous when you have my cock in your mouth.” You moaned around his cock at his praise, taking more of him in your mouth, you bobbed your head up and down, groans and sighs escaping his mouth at the feeling of you giving him head.

You loved riling him up by sucking his cock, the weight of his cock in your mouth never failed to get you wet, the heady taste never failing to make you so needy, you took a deep breath, before swallowing his cock to the base, a moan escaped his throat as his hand tightened in your hair. You pulled off of him, a string of saliva and precum the only thing connecting you to his cock, the string snapped and you wiped it as you stood up, straddling Aaron, bringing your lips to his desperately, your tongues clashing and spit slipping from the corners of your mouths, you grinded yourself against his hard cock, a gasp escaping you at the feeling of cock pressing against your clothed pussy, “Fuck Aaron, wanna ride you so bad.” You whined, circling your hips, he let out a breathy chuckle, “Is that what this is about baby? Wanna ride my cock?” You nodded, a whimper falling from your mouth as he grabbed your ass roughly. “Yea, wanna fuck myself on your cock baby.” You pulled your panties to the side, too desperate to completely pull them off, you moaned at the feeling of your bare pussy against his cock, you bucked your hips at the feeling, your head finding a place on his shoulder.

You heard a dark chuckle before you felt a hand tangling in your hair and pulling you upright, forcing you to stare at Aaron, “If your gonna ride my cock, your gonna fucking look at me while you do it, you can be a good girl and do that right?” You nodded vigorously, whimpering at the feeling of your hair being pulled, you lifted yourself, lining his cock up with your entrance, and dropping yourself down on his cock in one movement, a gasp fought its way out of your throat, you knew Aaron was big, and usually when he’s on top he fucks you so good, but the feeling of being on top and the fullness you felt was something you could have never imagined, you threw your head back, trying to regain your composure, Aaron littered kisses against your neck, “Breathe baby, eyes on me.” He murmured, encircling his arm around your waist, you took a deep breath, and looked at him, the sight of him under you was exactly what you wanted, heavy panting and lidded eyes, you clenched around his cock at just the sight of him looking so fucking sexy. He let out a growl, his thumb digging into your side at the feeling of you clenching around him.

You pressed your forehead to his, staring into his eyes as you lifted yourself up and dropped back down, moans coming from both of you as you began bouncing on his cock, “F-Fuck you look so pretty like this, all ruined over my cock.” He was panting, his hand on the small of your back guiding you to rock your hips back and forth, the action causing friction on your clit, you clenched around him once more, a wanton mewl slipping from you, you placed your hand on his chest, pushing him back til his back was on the bed, you continued rocking your hips against him, “Mmm, Aaron feels s’good, fuck your so big.” You were a mess on top of him, you had spent so much time thinking about how it would feel to be on top, and now that you had it, it was indescribable, you were in your own little world, relishing in the feeling of how deep Aaron was, Aaron planted his feet on the bed, thrusting up into you, a scream tore from your throat, instantly losing your balance and tumbling into his chest as he continued pounding into you from below, moans and cries of ecstasy falling from your lips.

“A-Ah Aaron, gonna cum!” Tears were trickling down from the pleasure he was giving you, you met his thrusts, bouncing up and down, chasing your high, your hand on his abdomen, feeling the coil in your stomach threatening to snap, “You gonna be a good girl and cum for me hm? That’s what you wanted right? To cum while you were riding me? Go ahead baby” He murmured, holding off his release so you could let go first. A choked sob came from you when he brought his hand down to your clit, your orgasm washed over you, waves and waves of pleasure, your thighs trembled and you clenched tightly around him, the feeling of you clenching around him so tightly triggered his own orgasm, hot ropes of white cum staining your insides, you wrapped your arms around his neck as you both came down from your highs, Aaron let out a chuckle, “So this is what you got all pretty for? You wanted to ride me?” You hid your face in his neck, “It’s been on my mind since you left for the case, and it was frustrating me. Had to do something about it.” You mumbled.

He rubbed your back lovingly, “Cmon, let’s go shower and go eat dinner.” You laughed softly, “Oh now you care about dinner?” You smiled up at him, “I cared about dinner from the moment I got home, you just distracted me honey.” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple, he pulled out of you, you whined at the loss and grimaced at the feeling of his cum leaking out, he stood up, picking you up bridal style and taking you to shower, but to no surprise, he fucked you in the shower, saying something along the lines of ‘having to thank you for riding him’. Lying down in bed, thoroughly satisfied, you looked at him, a smile gracing his features, “I love you.” He whispered, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, before leaning down and kissing you softly, “I love you too.” You said as you snuggled into him, basking in the post sex haze.

When Aaron went into the office the next morning looking well-rested and in a good mood, Morgan patted him on the back, “Had a good night last huh?” Morgan teased, smirk on his face, Aaron smirked back “A very good night indeed.”

[pupyuj]

[cw: dom ive unnie line x sub wony, like deadass in-the-depths-of-subspace wony, g!p rei bcs idgaf, rei has a BIGGG unnie kink.]

genuinely tried to not make this drag on but the ideas just kinda kept coming 😭 i thought the annyeongz fic i'm working on rn would be the first and only idol x idol thing from me but ah... wonyoung ships are just too good for me to not write anything about them 🥰💞

wonyoung is never EVER beating the unnie’s girl allegations it’s actually so bad for her 😔 she just can’t help it okay!? whenever the unnies speak, something in her brain just rewires itself into making her a perfect, obedient little doll for them and them only 🫠 and she knows the unnies in question love her undivided attention anyway! 🤭 yujin, who is the leader and does expect said attention. gaeul, who is not the leader but is the oldest so any authority that she has on someone, even if it’s small, she will devour. and rei, who is barely considered an unnie but very much wants to be bcs she wants to feel that respect yujin and gaeul feed their ego with 😵‍💫😵‍💫

wony knowing yujin the longest… meaning she would a different level of whipped for her 😍 eyes never leaving yujin while the leader talks, always nodding and agreeing to whatever she is saying, doing whatever the leader wants done from her… most specifically when yujin gets wonyoung alone in some room to talk about how the latter sometimes spaces out during performance discussions and briefings 🫣 wony having to apologize for having a wild, naughty imagination… for thinking about having her hands all over yujin’s perfect body… for wanting to be on her leader’s lap getting pampered and pleasured like the little princess she is 🥺🥺 ofc more often than not, yujinnie would entertain this and give wonyoung the sex she has probably been wanting all day… but sometimes she has to put her leader cap on and punish bad behavior! 😤

and naturally, wonyoung just so happened to love the most common way of punishing disobedient subs—spanking! 💕 being bent over a table with the side of face pressed down and her hair gripped tightly by her yujin-unnie… her skirt on the floor and her panties brought down only to her thighs bcs yujinnie was so hasty and didn’t waste any more time before she started hitting wony’s ass 😮‍💨😮‍💨 wony having to bite back her cute whines and moans bcs yujin just so happened to drag her inside a room that did not have soundproofed walls… and it gets even better when wony arches her back for more, giving yujin a view of her wet pussy… so desperate to be filled up, but yujin was not giving into her own desire this time 🤭

spanking wony until her butt was red and her legs were twitching… and believe it or not, wonyoung came from all of that alone! and ofc yujin wasn’t too mean to her poor pretty girl—she made sure to give wonyoung’s perfect ass a good eating before they both left that room happier than ever 🥰

oh gaeul… the unnie wony adores the most 🥺 follows her around like a lovesick bunny, always hugging her from behind bcs gaeul is just so snug in wonyoung’s arms 😔💕 wony doesn’t know what it is about gaeul that just made her impossible to act… normal around her 😭 maybe it’s the endearingly lazy way that gaeul talked, maybe it’s gaeul’s pretty eyes that was always on wonyoung’s body, maybe it’s the rare moments where gaeul would take charge and boss everyone around… that last one gets wonyoung squirming in her seat every time she thinks about it 🤭 she does a lot of things on purpose to poke the bear that is gaeul’s inner strictness! giving the older girl bedroom eyes from across the table during meetings and if they’re sitting right next to each other, wony would tease her by caressing gaeul’s leg with her foot under the table 🫣 also wearing risqué outfits for gaeul to be the only one to notice that it’s inappropriate, intentionally making mistakes during dance practices so gaeul would be the one to correct her… the more the eldest gets visibly upset, the more wony considers her actions a great success! 🤭

all of that makes gaeul’s nightly visits to wonyoung’s room a lot more fun! but see, gaeul makes no mention of wonyoung’s actions bcs she knew that would only make wonyoung do them more… so the older girl settles with keeping her princess up ‘till dawn using her mouth 😋 seriously, gaeul will join wonyoung in her bed dead in the night, feel her up enough to get her soaked before finally burying her head in between her thighs… and it gets even better when gaeul makes wony work for her climax! slowing down on purpose to the point it frustrates the little princess and she flips the older girl over to ride her face 🫠🫠 in direct contrast to yujin who loves punishing wonyoung on the spot and jumping at every opportunity to do so, gaeul is smart and knows that it’s just what wonyoung wants so instead of giving her that, gaeul makes her beg.

but that’s okay, wony would do anything her gaeul-unnie wants! 🥺 ride her face until dawn? beg and beg for release? scream her name so loud that wonyoung would have to bite on a pillow? everything would be done, and done well.

and rei, the wannabe unnie of 04z 🤭💕 it’s cute when the members tease her about wanting to take care of the girls of the same age as her but it’s a very real desire, okay!? 😤 she wants to be seen as this mature and responsible member who can be just as reliable as gaeul and yujin… especially by wonyoung, who is a few years her senior when it comes to being an idol and being the picture of elegance and class 🤭 it’s so obvious rei wants to be fawned over as an unnie and wonyoung has a hell of a time entertaining her! 😋 during practices, when rei does something as simple as handing wonyoung a bottle of water during a break or being the one to wipe her sweat away with a towel, wonyoung always makes sure to say “thank you, unnie” very, very quietly before scurrying away with a smirk knowing she has just flipped a switch inside rei’s brain 😵‍💫

but oh, rei knows wonyoung can be a big tease sometimes... and once the princess is having fun, it's quite difficult to put her down so, rei likes to get a jump on things! 😋 forcing wonyoung down on her knees in the dirty bathroom floors, even binding her hands behind her back with a silk necktie rei just so happened to be bringing around during dance practice days, and making the pretty princess suck her cock with great difficulty bcs wonyoung always needed to take it slow or else she doesn't do well :( but she always wants to please her unnies... so she forces herself to do her best bcs if rei isn't feeling good then that would just hurt her pride! looking up at rei with tears of pleasure, taking up all of her length down her throat even though she was gagging... all of that just to hear rei's sweet voice call her a very good girl and tell her how much she was making her feel so good 🤭

rei having to cum all over wony's face bcs she looks the prettiest that way :(( and wony hates it when her makeup gets ruined but if letting rei do that means getting filled up her cock immediately after... well then, whatever 'unnie' wants, 'unnie' gets! 💓💓

[deebris]

Heartbeat

Simon "Ghost" Riley x child reader (platonic!)

Synopsis: At just eight years old, you struggle with a heart condition that makes you too fragile for shocks or exertion. To protect you, Simon keeps his military life as far away as possible, and his home, a safe refuge. But everything changes when an intruder, unaware of Simon's true identity, decides to rob them. What should have been a simple burglary turns into a desperate race against time when fear triggers a heart attack. Now, Simon is not only fighting the thief — he's fighting to save your life.

Warnings: Profanity, firearms, panic, mentions of death, the reader is 8 years old, has Long QT Syndrome and is a girl.

Word count: 4.5k

Observation: English is not my first language, and I have very little exposure to British English specifically. I had a really hard time writing Simon and Price's dialogue, but I hope I at least got close to something more realistic.

Simon put you to sleep, just like he had for the past two nights, and now he lay with his head resting against the pillow, the insomnia visiting him once again. He was exhausted from the day, chasing after you and handling your tantrums – but still, sleep wouldn’t come. No one would believe it if they were told that he, a shadowy wall of muscle and silence, spent his afternoons playing dolls and tea parties with an eight-year-old girl.

Your father always watched you sleep for a while, his calloused fingers gently brushing your chubby cheek and smoothing your hair. He admired your serenity, as if the world were perfect and no problems existed. Simon wished you could stay that way forever, carefree and small. The thought of you growing up and facing the world unsettled him, but it was inevitable.

You were a wellspring of joy, something that warmed his heart. Always looking for him, and always worried about how he felt, if he was okay, when he should be the one asking you that. Something inside Simon shifted every time you asked if he was hurting when went too quiet.

He used to think that a child’s mind was too oblivious to understand how adults worked, but you always noticed every time his eyes tightened just a fraction differently, wondering: Why is Daddy sad? And not every time was he exactly sad, but sometimes, his gaze grew distant, thoughts reaching faraway places. Now, he was much more careful not to let it happen around you, not wanting his daughter to think something was wrong with her father.

Everything about you made him immensely happy, a feeling buried deep in his chest that he had to protect you at all costs. But Simon couldn’t protect you from his greatest fear. Your heart worked differently, he had told you that himself, and it had brought him to the edge of panic more times than he could count. When it wasn’t clear what was wrong, he felt useless, powerless, as if he would never be enough.

Once, you couldn’t breathe at daycare, and he was thousands of miles away. Your babysitter called him in tears, it was one of the worst moments of his life. He thought you were going to die, and the very idea haunted him like some loathsome creature. He had faced death many times, in many forms, but with you, it was utterly devastating. You couldn’t disappear. It would destroy him.

When he was near, he handled you like porcelain, always cautious, as if something invisible could suddenly trigger another episode, making you cry from a pain he couldn't take away.

That’s why he refused to take anything that might help him sleep, twisting at the thought of you needing him and him being too dazed to respond. He forced himself to stay awake, alert, every little noise in the house making him tense. A creaking window, the sound of distant footsteps, a whisper in the hallway – he always checked – even knowing it was probably just his mind creating monsters. But he couldn’t help it. The fear of something happening while he was lost in the darkness of his own mind was unbearable.

In the middle of the night, he would get up several times just to check if you were still breathing. The room was silent, except for the rhythmic, comforting sound of your breath. Occasionally, there was a small hesitation, a brief pause that sent his heart into his throat, before the steady rise and fall of your chest resumed. He knew it was paranoia, but he couldn’t stop. To him, you were more important than the very oxygen in his lungs. Every beat of your heart mattered more than his own life.

But he wasn’t unshakable, no matter how much he wished to be for you. Eventually, exhaustion would take hold, his bloodshot eyes pulling him into the dark. When it did, he would wake at the first sign of morning – his sleep never lasting long. But tonight, something was different. He woke up much earlier.

A crash from the hallway, the sound of a lamp shattering against the floor, yanked him into full awareness. Like an instinct buried deep within him had been triggered, Simon’s hearing sharpened instantly. His body tensed, slipping into a readiness only someone like him could know. With a single swift motion, he was out of bed, his bare feet touching the floor with such precision that they barely made a sound.

Then, a sharp, terrified scream shattered the silence, echoing through the house.

It was your voice.

“Daddy!”

Cold fear rushed through his veins. His heart pounded violently, but he didn’t hesitate. Instinct seized him like a crushing weight, and he moved with the speed of a predator. The sound of his own ragged breath and the pounding of his heartbeat were all he heard as he bolted toward your room, his only thought to reach you before anything else could.

He burst through your door, flipping the switch to flood the room with light.

Someone was there.

A boy, probably a teenager. He wore a balaclava and clutched a pistol, the serial number scratched off. Simon noticed it instantly. He always noticed details – nothing escaped him – and guilt tore through his chest.

He should have prevented this. He should have seen the signs before the intruder ever set foot in his house.

“Stay there!” The boy shouted, his voice trembling. His hands shook so much they could barely hold the gun. He seemed on the verge of collapsing, as if he might wet himself at any moment. Maybe he was just a young man making a stupid mistake, a rash decision. That's what Simon's rational side told himself. But his emotional side could only feel anger – a muffled, uncontrollable fury burning inside – because of how that gun had been pointed at you just seconds ago.

Simon's figure must have terrified the invader even more. The boy hadn't expected to find someone like him. Tall. Intimidating. His face covered in scars, his eyes cold and empty. Instinct screamed inside the younger: this is no ordinary man. Even when Simon raised his hands, in a gesture of surrender, he didn't seem to feel safe.

“Calm down.” Simon's deep, imposing voice filled the room. The boy trembled even more. The lieutenant opened his hands, trying to show he wouldn't do anything.

He heard your crying. He could feel your heart racing, almost as fast as his own. And that was not a good sign. Your chest was rising and falling irregularly. He knew you needed help. Now.

“Put the gun down, kid.”

“I'm not putting anything down, Motherfucker!” He shouted, his voice shrill, desperate. You jumped in bed. Simon diverted his eyes for a second, just to see how you clung to the blanket, your fingers gripping so tightly they were turning white. Your father knew the swearing, the yelling, and that gun were terrifying you.

“Look at me! Don't look at her!” The boy yelled again, hysterical. Fear was written all over his face. He thought Simon might attack him at any moment.

“You can take whatever you want, just put the gun down.” Simon's voice came out brutal again, cutting. He needed to appear in control, even though he wasn't. He moved his hands slowly, cautiously, trying to convince the stranger he wasn’t a threat.

Meanwhile, your mind was on high alert, painted red as you saw the barrel of the gun pointed at your father. For a dark moment, you thought that guy was going to hurt him.

“I didn't know she was here, I swear.” The kid whispered. His breathing was erratic. “I don't want to take anything, I just want to leave. I'm very sorry...”

Simon saw the tremor in the boy's shoulders, saw the tears forming behind the fabric of the balaclava. He was crying, probably from the shock of finding a child while doing something so horrific.

“Fine. Then go.” Simon agreed, his mind spinning, his heart hammering in his chest. He just wanted to get to you. Your breathing was becoming difficult. You were so scared you could barely speak.

The thief swallowed hard. His gaze wavered for a second.

“As soon as I get closer, you'll grab me.” He said as if it were a fact, sizing up Simon’s physique – a man who knows how to fight. A cop, maybe? Military? The boy knew he wouldn't stand a chance against him.

“I won’t.” Simon kept his voice firm, but he felt the fear seeping in. His eyes quickly shifted to you, seeing your feet moving under the blanket, you were in agony.

Then he saw it.

Your small chest rising and falling erratically. You brought your hand to your heart, your face contorting. Pain.

Panic exploded inside Simon.

If it weren’t for you, Simon would have already lunged at the invader and ended it. But he couldn’t risk it. A stray bullet. One wrong move.

“What’s your name?” His voice came out softer, controlled.

“J-James...” He stammered.

The oldest in the room nodded, memorizing the name. “James. I’m Simon.”

The boy just nodded.

“You look young. I reckon you made a mistake comin’ ‘ere, and now you’re regrettin’ it.” Simon measured each word with precision. “I don’t care if you walk out that door and vanish, just as long as you’re outta my daughter’s sight.”

He was lying. He was lying with every word. But he needed James to believe it. He needed him to leave. He was definitely going after him later.

James averted his gaze and, for the first time, really looked at you.

Your body was trembling. Tears streamed down your face. Your lips were trembling so much you couldn’t speak.

“W-What’s wrong with her?” The young man asked hesitantly. His voice was different now, but Simon didn’t want to talk. He needed to get to you.

“You're frightenin' her.” He said through clenched teeth, and something seemed to change in the boy. His gaze softened.

But the gun was still raised.

And Simon was running out of time.

He saw you try to call his name once more, but the sound died in your throat.

He knew what it was.

The cold soldier’s face crumbled, giving way to that of a desperate father, and he looked into James's eyes before finally exploding:

“If you don’t let me help her, she’s gonna die!”

The boy blinked at hearing the threat, confused, and Simon took a step forward.

“She’s ill.” He gushed the words harshly, laden with an emotion he couldn’t control. “If you don’t let me go to her, she’ll die. Do you understand, bloody hell?!”

For a second, after the beastly shout he gave, only silence filled the room.

James froze.

And Simon waited.

The boy gave up and nodded, his fingers still trembling as he lowered the gun. Simon didn’t waste any time. In an instant, he crossed the room to you, his steps heavy and determined. You were pale. Small. Your hands still clutching your chest. The fear in your huge eyes was enough to break something inside him.

Simon crouched beside you and held your face between his hands, forcing a softer tone than he had used with the intruder. James, panicked, couldn’t do anything but put his hands over his head, sliding down the wall while apologizing repeatedly. He pulled the balaclava off his face, revealing his features. He was just a teenager, between 16 and 18 years old.

The boy had no idea what he was doing there, nor how he had reached the point of thinking that breaking into a family’s home for some cash was a good idea. The moment he realized what he had done, a chill ran down his spine as he understood that, for an instant, he had pointed a gun at a child.

A child.

“Hey, I’m here. I’m here, sweetheart. Look at me.”

You blinked a few times, as if trying to focus, searching for safety in your father’s face. But your body trembled. Then came the first unsteady breath. Then another. Small, desperate gasps. Your chest rose and fell too fast, and Simon felt his blood turn cold.

No. Not now.

A sob escaped you, and you clung to his shirt as if your life depended on it. Maybe it did.

He held you tightly, as if he could shield you from everything, as if just pulling you closer could stop life from slipping through his fingers. Heart pounding, he descended the stairs in long strides, muscles tense with the urgency only a father understands. Nothing else mattered now – not the stranger still in the house, not the shards of glass on the floor, not even his own fear. Only you. Only getting to the hospital in time.

“D-Daddy…” Your voice came out as a weak whisper, so soft he only heard it because your face was pressed against his shoulder.

Simon’s stomach twisted. You were scared. More than that, you were terrified. Your small fingers clung to his shirt so tightly they could have torn it, as if you were drowning.

“You’re gonna be okay, my love.” The words came out fast, hoarse, more for himself than for you. He yanked the car door open and carefully placed you in the back seat, making sure you were positioned safely. His eyes quickly scanned your pale face before he rushed to drive.

Simon didn’t look back. He didn’t think about the stranger, the house, anything else. He just turned the engine on and slammed his foot on the gas, the headlights cutting through the darkness as he sped down the nearly empty streets. His mind was torn between the road and the sound of your unsteady breathing in the back seat.

“Stay with me, sweetheart.” he murmured, glancing at the rearview mirror. You were curled up, your wide eyes locked on him, trying to stay focused as your small hands gripped the seatbelt.

Simon’s chest tightened. He wanted to say something to soothe you, but all that came to mind was the corrosive fear that maybe – just maybe – he was already too late.

✧✧✧

A few hours later, the sun was shining brightly as morning advanced. Simon shifted in the uncomfortable hospital chair, elbows resting on his knees, his hand holding yours. The warmth of your skin against his was the only thing that a little peace, his thumb tracing slow circles in an unconscious gesture of comfort. He had been silent since arriving, but not in his usual way. This silence was heavy, suffocating, filling the room like an unspoken weight.

He didn’t dare take his eyes off you, afraid that even the slightest lapse in attention could make things go wrong again. The constant beeping of the heart monitor was offering him fragile relief, a reminder that you were here, alive. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was just a temporary illusion – that at any moment, the rhythm would spike again, and you’d be in danger.

Two hours ago, you had woken up, still drowsy, sedated by the doctors to prevent stress. Your eyes opened sluggishly, scanning the room until found him. You were scared – for him. The image of the boy pointing a gun was still vivid in your mind, and the fear overflowed. When the panic set in, your heart rate spiked again, and the medical team had to intervene, sedating you once more.

Simon could do nothing. He just sat there, motionless, fingers pressing against the bridge of his nose in frustration.

The sound of the door opening pulled him from his thoughts. Simon turned his head and saw Price standing there. His captain, one of the few people he trusted, and someone who knew you well enough to understand what had happened.

Simon had never minded being alone. Solitude was an old companion, a shadow he had learned to carry without complaint. But this time, for some reason, he had picked up the phone and called John. Something inside him had pushed him to press that button, an insistent, uneasy force hammering inside him.

He wanted to believe it was just for your sake, because you and Price were close, because he had a duty to inform him - because his captain would be furious if Simon didn't tell him about it. But deep down, he knew the truth.

He needed someone else to be there.

Your “Uncle John” never failed to send you gifts when he could, and sometimes even made the hour-long drive from his city just to say “hi” to you. Price cherished you as if you were his own daughter.

“Oi, Lieutenant.” The older man’s voice was steady, comforting.

Simon took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, falling back into the tactical demeanor he always used in the base. But even when he wore his mask, John could read him like an open book.

“Captain.” That was all he managed to say.

Price knew him well enough to understand that Simon needed support. He was used to dealing with Ghost. But this – this was just Simon.

“How’s our Thumbelina?” Price asked softly, as if afraid to wake you. He walked over to Simon, placing a hand on his shoulder in a brief, almost hesitant gesture.

“She'll wake up soon enough.” Simon replied, his eyes fixed on you but not really seeing you. His gaze was distant, unfocused.

“You said she went into shock, didn't you?” Price murmured, trying to follow a line of conversation.

“The doc thinks so.” Simon sighed and leaned back in the chair, exhaling slowly. “They’re going to refer her to a shrink. Don’t want those memories messin’ with her head.”

Price nodded, remaining standing.

“I made a few calls,” he announced, watching his friend's reaction. “I got some info on the brat.”

Simon looked up, attentive.

“He didn’t even try to leg it. Found him in her room, and I called in a contact from the coppers.” He scratched his mustache at the memory of the encounter.

At first, Price got confused. But within seconds, he was already gripping the teenager by the collar, fury burning in his eyes. He only started to rein himself in when James, terrified, began apologizing, without even knowing who the man pinning him against the wall was. His empathy took over. The boy had hurt you, yes, but he didn’t know the severity of your condition. He was wrong, but he wasn’t a demon.

“His mum showed up at the station right after. It was a proper scene. The two of them were at each other’s throats, shouting. The woman was in tears, all disappointed, and the boy looked right sorry for himself.”

Simon clenched his jaw. “I couldn't give a toss about that nonsense.” The irritation was evident, even though he hadn’t intended to be rude.

“He thought the house was empty, Simon. Got it mixed up with the neighbour’s.” Price added carefully. “It was a daft dare from friends who knew he needed the money, so he nicked his father’s gun. He’s off to court. With what he’s done, he might end up in a juvenile centre.”

Simon remained quiet for a moment, running his tongue over his teeth. Then, he exhaled sharply through his nose.

“Yeah. Great.” he muttered, irritation dripping from every syllable.

Price watched his reaction, hesitating before continuing.

“I know you're pissed off, mate, but...” He paused, studying Simon's tense face. “Maybe it’s worth figuring out what the hell was goin’ through that boy’s head.”

Simon heard every word but didn’t reply. He absorbed his captain’s advice and kept his gaze on him. The memory of how you screamed, the tears, all the agony... It made Simon clench his free hand into fist.

You thought he was going to get shot. You were desperate.

Price noticed the movement. He saw how Simon’s fingers were practically digging into his own skin with the force of his grip. He decided not to press the issue. Instead, he walked to your bed, observing your face for a moment. A faint smile flickered on his lips before he reached out and ruffled your hair in a gentle pat.

Then, John pulled something from his pocket and held up a stuffed hippopotamus, showing it to Simon.

Simon frowned, clearly displeased with the choice.

“Come on, you know she fancies it.” Price said, trying to lighten the heavy mood. “Hippos are tough, you know?”

But Price’s joke was cut short when he noticed you were waking up. Your eyes opened slowly, blinking several times as you oriented yourself. Simon shifted in his chair, and a quick glance was enough for John to understand that maybe it was best for you not to see your father right away – not while his image was still tied to the terror of the night.

“Hi, Uncle John…” Your small voice came out in a hoarse whisper, heavy with sleep.

“Oi, little doll.” he murmured back, his expression filled with a warmth he only used with you.

He didn’t need to say anything else to make you smile. As soon as he lifted the stuffed hippo, shaking it like it was going to devour you, you let out a giggle.

The sound relieved Price, and especially Simon. He watched as your tiny fingers grabbed the toy, hugging the plush creature to your chest.

“Thank you…” you murmured, pouting a little as you placed your index finger between your upper lip and nose, mimicking his mustache.

Price copied the gesture, but the face he made was much funnier than yours.

“Where’s Daddy?” you asked just like the first time you woke up, your brows furrowing in worry.

The beeping on the monitor sped up slightly. Simon noticed immediately and ran his thumb over your hand again – a reminder that you weren’t alone. You turned your head and found him there, still sitting in the same chair, his dark eyes betraying the sleepless night he had spent.

“I'm here, love.” His voice was firm, both a reassurance and a promise.

You gripped his forearm tighter than you had held your new stuffed hippo. Simon felt the tension in your small fingers and let you cling to him without saying a word. You seemed calmer now, less frightened.

Price grabbed a cup of water and handed it to Simon, who helped you drink. You took a few small sips, the way children do, but it was enough.

Then, your eyes locked onto your father’s, serious, as if you had something important to resolve. He braced himself for anything. Maybe a question about what had happened, maybe a request to go home. But not this:

"You said a bad word."

Simon blinked slowly. “What?”

“He said ‘bloody hell’.” you whispered to Price, as if revealing a forbidden secret.

Price raised his eyebrows, holding back a smile. “Oh, really, eh?”

Simon sighed, running a hand over his face. “Prob'ly did.”

Price let out a low chuckle, satisfied to get some reaction out of him.

Suddenly, you started paying attention to your surroundings. A hospital room wasn’t strange to you, since you had been here a few times before, but that didn’t mean you liked it. The doctors always said they needed to keep you under observation until the crisis passed, and the worst situations happened quickly, in the middle of chaos, before anyone could stabilize you.

There was a time they had to use a defibrillator, and just the thought of it sent a shiver down Simon’s spine. To his relief, this time all you needed was to simply shut down, a milder way to calm your emotions.

“I want to go home…” you pleaded, your voice thick with emotion.

“We will, in a few hours.” Simon replied firmly. If he gave you an inch, he knew you’d push until the end.

“Is Uncle John staying with us?” you asked, grabbing the hippo by the ear and waving the plush toy in front of Price, who pretended to try catching it but failed miserably.

“No, Princess. I'm sorry.” he answered regretfully. “I wish I could stay longer, but I only came to see you. I’ve gotta head back home soon.” He pinched your nose between his fingers, making you giggle.

“Okay…” you murmured, disappointed, but already starting to feel a little stronger.

You shifted on the bed, getting on your knees to hug Price, who held you firmly, running his hand over your back before pressing a kiss to the side of your head. As soon as you let go, you turned to your father and practically buried yourself in his lap, seeking shelter. You settled on his legs, leaning your torso against his broad chest.

Simon was used to this, but this time, you seemed even more in need of security. Your small fingers poked at the dog tag hanging around his neck, as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

Simon knew you were still scared. He knew that, in the coming days, you wouldn’t leave his side. And he didn’t mind.

Because deep down, he wanted to stay close to you too.

He held on to this moment, feeling you fidget with the metal piece on his neck. Simon knew things wouldn’t be easy for now, but he chose not to get lost in thoughts of the future. He held you even tighter, his arms wrapping around you like a blanket while you found comfort in the calm. Simon felt deeply grateful that you hadn’t asked questions about the boy, and in silence, he turned to Price, who responded with a simple nod, as if he had understood the unspoken message.

Price took a few steps closer and crouched down, looking at you with affection. “Goodbye, Thumbelina,” he said, extending his fist for a farewell bump.

“Goodbye, Mr. Mustache.” you replied softly, but with a smile that made Price chuckle as he ruffled your hair. He stood up, turning to Simon with a look that carried the same unwavering trust as always.

“Take care, lad. I’ll see you soon.” he said, not waiting for a response, already knowing the lieutenant’s temperament well.

Simon watched Price leave, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. His hardened expression softened the moment there was no longer a need to hide behind it. He still made an effort to appear confident for you, but as he closed his eyes and held you tighter, he finally allowed himself to relax. The silent gesture of protection he offered was an unspoken promise.

He knew that as long as he was with you, nothing else mattered. He would always be by your side. And even with the weight of the world on his shoulders, Simon allowed himself to believe, just for a moment, that maybe the future would be a little lighter. No matter what came next. Together, he and you would face it all.

[fatuismooches]

Saw a fic from an author who make a harbingers x reader testing lip stick thingy and uhh suddenly have a thought of fragile!reader when one time they're spending time with a segment, had an ABSOLUTELY GENIOUS IDEA,(Reader's words) which is to wear a lipstick and bombard the segment with kisses whenever the segment do something for them. Safe to say that segment was left a little speechless(I imagine it was Alpha who is left speechless and red face bombarded with lipstick stain LMAO) And after that, reader start to do it to every other segments, and that caused a teeny tiny competition between the segments of who gets the most kisses. But at the end of the day, it's of course gonna be prime who got the most kisses (ugh, that man..😣 i love how you write him)

Have a nice day

(x) Although you didn't wear lipstick that much, when Columbina gifted you a pretty shade out of nowhere, you just had to try it out (obviously you had not seen the devious smile on her face). It was too lovely not to show off to the others too! You'd surely distract them from their work when your lips looked this appealing!

Alpha was the first on your list - he was always the sweetest to tease. Needless to say, the first kiss sealed the deal instantly. He acted grumpy at first and didn't meet your eye until he felt residue on his cheek, and upon rubbing the color off of him and realizing what it was, it was already too late. Your arms were in a death lock around him and he was left woozy after you were finished with him. Poor guy. He is also trying to figure out whether to continue working like this with the lovely reminder of your kisses or risk being seen like this.

Beta is more than happy to receive your kisses. He didn't even notice at first because as soon as you came to visit him, he immediately let go and started telling you his latest grief. But when he does notice, he gets up real close and personal and even smudges it a bit - he's just very interested. You also probably stained his white coat a bit from the kissing session. That's okay though! But please also leave a little kiss on one of his robots. It will motivate him whenever he's working.

Omega already knows what's about to happen when you waltz in, lips sheening with an unusual color. This hasn't been the first time you've come in showing off something new, after all. He's very teasing, letting you kiss against his hand before you get tired enough to pull him by his harness for a real kiss. When he finds out you've already shown the others though, he will get a bit peeved though. Next time, come to him first, okay?

Zandy didn't want to be left out of the party either, so you put a kissy stain on one of his drawings that he hung up in his room (along with all his other works of art).

Prime is pleasantly surprised and amused by the gloss on your lips. Did you miss him that much to doll yourself up like this? He'll let you give him kisses - just out of sight of what others can see. Which means, sometimes Dottore takes off his shirt and sees the residue from the lipstick you left and he smiles. Of course, no one will dare to comment if a kissy stain peaks out from the collar of his shirt. You will have to ask Bina for some more products at this point...

(Said lipstick was actually a Fontainian product that was quickly recalled after it was discovered the effects caused hypnosis when it came into contact with another's skin. However, it was ineffective on the segments and Dottore as they are already under your spell. Columbina was just curious about if it'd work. She is a lil instigator.)

[secondarysefikura]

Modern sefikura idea. Cloud and Sephiroth meet in a psych ward. Cloud recovers and gets out eventually. But Sephiroth misses him.

Cloud’s biggest issue is when he’s off his meds or symptomatic he tends to get delusional. So if he tells someone he’s being stalked or another patient escaped and broke into his apartment. The first question people tend to ask is “are you taking your medication?” Not “do you want to call the cops?”

Oooo, I really like this. Especially since you can imagine that in most cases, whoever is asking Cloud if he has taken his medicine is probably trying to be genuinely helpful. Zack or Tifa or whoever is being told about this "stalker" who "broke into" Cloud's apartment genuinely want the best for Cloud. They just don't realize until it's too late that they're making things worse by making Cloud feel isolated as no one believes him.

Now to develop the sefikura of this a bit:

Sephiroth believes himself to be a god and starts trying to start small cults to himself, which is what causes him to be institutionalized. He takes a liking to Cloud, who he is easily able to sway by feeding into and manipulating Cloud's delusions.

Although the two became close in their short time together, staff realized they needed to seperate them if they wanted either Cloud or Sephiroth to get better. It becomes even more clear the two need to be kept apart when Cloud starts getting better and Sephiroth starts attempting to (intentionally or not) sabotage Cloud's progress.

After finding the proper medication, seeking therapy, and getting connected with a service animal trained to help him recognize when he is hallucinating (that's a real thing by the way!), Cloud is released from the ward.

Sephiroth, meanwhile, is fuming. How DARE these people take Cloud away from him? How DARE they correct him anytime he refers to Cloud as his puppet, his doll, or his cherished one? And most importantly, how DARE they talk about Cloud leaving this place and forgetting to worship Sephiroth as Cloud "getting better." He ought to destroy these humans and take Cloud back by force this instant!

As much as he wants to, however, he bides his time. Rather than letting on how much he hates the people who "took" Cloud away from him, he plays nice and gains their trust. Then, when he's trusted enough that he isn't considered flight risk number one, he makes a break for the streets.

Of course he doesn't leave without taking a few things with him: mainly a variety of different sedative pills.

At first he doesn't plan to use them on Cloud since he assumes that Cloud will run back into his arms the moment they are reunited. But when Cloud gets frightened by "being stalked" and starts asking his "friends" for help, Sephiroth realizes he has no choice but to switch Cloud's medication with identical looking but very different in function pills.

[patchworkcuddlebug]

Surface Tension

[A Tea Dolls Story.]

The witch's... no, bad doll.

Miss's study was very different from what Honey was expecting. It always imagined that when Sugar disappeared behind the door, it was in some arcane laboratory, conferring with Miss between beakers of strange magical liquid and scraps of rune-scribbled papyrus.

Instead, it was more like... a lounge. Of course, there was a crystal ball, but it was in a den surrounded by antique sofas. The tablecloth on the desk was adorned with ring-shaped stains, barely visible under the plant that had overtaken most of the desktop long ago. There were vintage softcore pin-ups hung on the walls wherever there was space between the trinket-filled bookshelves and the large window that oversaw the backyard.

Honey hesitated in the doorway, unsure of what to feel. All this time, Miss had been so... ephemeral. Sugar was always the one to confer with her directly, orders and schedules relayed secondhand, as she always seemed so busy. They had talked, of course, but mostly in the forms of reflexive praise for a job well done. This is the first time it's truly... conversed with her.

The cornerstone of its purpose, the centre of all its desires, the reason to be. The need to be a good doll.

The witch placed herself down on one of the couches in her expansive room, reclining in the corner as she beckoned Honey over. "Oh, would you be a darling and close the door before you sit?"

The doll acted without thinking, gently shutting the door. For some reason, 'you' didn't feel wrong. It didn't have the creeping sense of inappropriateness, that sense that things shouldn't have such a sense of individuality. It brushes it off as the witch's, no, as Miss's magic before moving on. Bad d-

"Thank you very much, Honey."

Its thoughts dissolved as Miss's words trickled down its skin, saturating its mind. Without further thought, it sat just next to Miss.

Honey has no idea how to behave. It understands curtsy, the politeness essential to its being, but... it's on a couch, with Miss's arm just a nudge away from resting on its shoulders. It stared forward, posture locked, not wanting to risk overstepping a boundary by leaning against her body and staring into her eyes. "Are you going to fix this one, Miss?"

"Oh, darling, do you mean changing you?" She takes on a sympathetic tone, clearly sensing the apprehension behind Honey's reserved disposition. "I love all my dolls just the way they are, I don't have the heart to make you something else..."

The doll tried to keep itself from reacting, but their was a clear drop in its posture as it tried its best not to sound like it was protesting. "Miss, this one is just an object, you have every right to treat it as you please, it can handle-"

"Shush." She said with a playful flirtation, Honey's lips instantly wrenching shut. "That means I can choose to make you change yourself, can't I?"

Her relaxation is tucked away, smoothly and elegantly, as she shifts her position. She's giving Honey her full attention. "I'd like to know how you've been feeling. Please tell me everything you're comfortable with."

Honey marvels for just a moment, at... her. Her totality. Her posture, the effortless way she holds herself to be so inviting and welcoming. Her words, like fine wine from a bottle, enveloping like a warm blanket, enough to make one melt. Even her clothes, a simplistic dress with a sheer cloak and the witch's hat framing her beautiful face...

The doll shakes from its momentary distraction.

"This one has been struggling, Miss." It relented with a banal seriousness. It wanted to resist, its instincts telling it to downplay and deny and tell Miss that everything was perfect thanks to her. But it couldn't lie. Not to her.

"This one wants to be a good doll. It really, really does. It's all this one wants." Honey finds its gaze naturally falling, pulling its limbs inward to try and console itself. "But it makes so many mistakes, and they all feel so serious. Every mistake fills it with so much guilt, and shame, and... it lingers on those mistakes until it can't take it anymore."

If Honey looked up, it would see Miss with nothing but positive regard. No pity, no hesitance, just.. a compassionate engagement, attentiveness, and just a little relief.

"That must be so awful..." Miss shook her head. "Nobody deserves to be haunted like that."

Seeing Miss upset, it spoke up, as it figured a good doll would. "It's okay! The thoughts can be intense, but they help this one-"

"No, they don't." Miss leans just a little forward, keeping her intensity low. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but... I promise they don't. Being without them wouldn't make you a bad doll, would it?"

Honey stammered for just a second. "Well... this one would do its best no matter what for you, Miss. But, it has to care about its mistakes, or else it'll be a much worse doll." The doll spoke matter-of-factly, but with an inquisitive undertone, ready for Miss to correct it.

"Can we cuddle, darling? That's a question, not a command."

The doll blinks in surprise. There's a longing in Miss's voice, and tenderness in her desires. It complies, as a good doll... no. It accepts her offer. She said it was just a question.

There's a hesitation as it leans into the witch, whose arms are outstretched and accepting. Gentle, with rapt caution, it places its head into the crook of her chest. Miss gladly accepts it, letting her arm lay on its shoulders and hold it tight.

The witch is sure to chose her words carefully. "The others are good dolls, aren't they? They don't need to be nearly so unkind to themselves."

Yes, but... there's a rebuttal, there has to be, or else all this anguish would be for nothing. What if it-

"There's nothing wrong with you, either." She places her head against the doll's, nuzzling closer. The doll feels its Miss sigh with relief at their proximity, and all urges to correct her fade. "You're not uniquely evil, or broken, or bad."

Honey... couldn't bring itself to respond. It didn't know what to say. Deep down, it knew all of this. That its thoughts were extreme. But when faced with its mistakes, the disappointment of others, they just flood in and demand attention. Why is she doing this? Why can't she just take out the part of its core that makes it this way?

Miss gives a wistful sigh, pulling away from the doll without releasing it. "Could you look at me, darling?"

The doll does as Miss says. Honey looks at the witch. Her eyes are so... big, and beautiful. Like a deep, sprawling cavern, filled with crystals and sparkling rivers. It feels itself being pulled in, like its very gaze is being enveloped.

Her name is Camellia. It didn't know that before.

"Could you try and think of somebody you don't like? Someone annoying or mean. It might help you to imagine your bad thoughts as coming from them."

Honey didn't dare. Good dolls "Have feelings. There's nothing wrong with reasonable distaste towards another. I trust you."

Honey blinks, taken aback. It... believes her. Honey starts to wonder how she knew what it was-

"Magic, darling."

The doll nods.

It starts to think of its past. Its time as a human. It never had much attention in school, positive or negative. The only time eyes seemed to be on it was when it made a mistake, the judgment lingering like a foul odour. It was not torture; their eyes would quickly move on.

There were some familial hardships, but no bad blood. It let its parents down as all offspring would, and they would be much too lenient. They would make their feelings known, never out loud, and they would never offer punishment. Every infraction would just be silently moved on from, as if it never happened.

It thought of its job, of its boss. He gave basic... if it could be so bold, insufficient direction. It would often have to rely on assistance from its coworkers when on assignment, making it feel ill-equipped and ashamed. They didn't say anything, but it was interrupting their cleaning duties, it simply had to be a bother.

"Oh, Honey..." Camellia couldn't help but pull her doll in for a hug. "You didn't deserve any of that. I'm so sorry, darling, I wish I had known sooner..."

Honey wanted to struggle against the embrace, but it couldn't bring itself to. A doll wouldn't dare fight against Miss... even if it wanted to. It simply had no choice but to melt into her, letting itself relax in her embrace.

"It's..." it struggled to summon the nerve to speak against Miss. "It's not a big deal, Miss, really. Please don't worry about it, it..." as it spoke, it found its arms fitting around Miss in turn, reciprocating the embrace. "It's not nearly as bad as it could've been."

"Yes darling, exactly. That's why it's so awful." The witch let her eyes close as she rested her head against the doll's. "You were never taught to have closure. Everyone let you fester in your own mistakes, so now all you can do is let them intensify. No wonder dollhood is so hard on you."

Honey was silent. It didn't know how to react to that. It had always just accepted that this is how its life was, never stopping to consider its effects. It was as if a new dimension opened up to it.

She was right. It didn't know emotional closure. Things left unsaid, fizzling out, ignored. Sugar's thoughts and Cinnamon's feelings and Ginger's past and Lemon's secrets. It would never know the true extent of its failures, their impact, the other's actions and reactions. No matter how much the pressure of failure after failure would build, there was never release. Of course it would start to break.

It's... welling up. It didn't know dolls could cry. It shouldn't be that awful, it never felt like in the moment that there was ever something to cry about. But now that it all lays in the past, built-up over the years as a person and the weeks as a doll, all it could do was desperately hold back from staining Miss's dress.

It buried its head into Camellia's chest, desperate to hide its face. It didn't know what to do to make it better. It couldn't apologize, or clean its mess. All it could do was hold off from crying, making itself useful. For just a moment, its emotions faltered, and it cursed Miss for being so cruel as to make it learn such an awful thing about itself.

Miss cradled it in her arms, and gently and compassionately as one could. She was silent, only at first. "It's okay, you're okay. I promise I'll never let such awful things happen again. You deserve to know."

It deserves to know.

It heaved as the tears started to fall. All it could do was bask in its feelings as everything finally released. It spent a very long time crying, just letting Miss hold it and caress its hair before it finally got it all out of its system. Finally, it could steady its sobs, its throat hoarse. Its face was wet, red, and relieved.

All the while, Camellia never let go. She never wanted to leave something unsaid again, making it perfectly clear how she felt with every second snuggled close. It wasn't long before the doll, now emptied, faded into stillness in her arms. The witch let it rest.

It was a long and loving embrace before the witch's thoughts drifted back to the matter at hand. With a single, soft "Excuse me, Honey?" the doll groggily lifted up its head. At some point, they seemed to have laid down together, with the doll using Miss as a bed.

"If you ever find yourself overwhelmed with your thoughts again, stressed out by the need to be a good doll... seek one of us out. Me or the dolls." Camellia let her hands rest on Honey's back, still holding the same embrace. "We'll tell you the honest truth about what you've done, and explain what reaction we would have. Would that help?"

Honey remembered moments where its thoughts were at their worst. When it ruined Miss's dinner, and wanted nothing more than to run away and apologize and accept some sort of punishment all at once. The pain, the guilt, the regret, all filtered through the lens of peer-review. It would be deeply vulnerable, but... it would know.

The doll let its head softly thump to the side, landing against Miss's chest. "Yes, Miss. Thank you, Miss."

. . . . .

The doll looked down into Miss's vintage water pitcher. One of the teabags left to seep overnight slipped from the rim, one of the many teabags partaking in the cold brew now floating without a lifeline.

Honey holds its newly-repaired thumb joint in its other hand, Miss's alternative to letting it near its teeth, as options rushed through its mind. It couldn't just reach in. It just washed its hands, and the others didn't deserve to taste soap in their tea. It could try to fish it out with something, uselessly dirtying a utensil due to its mistake. Bad doll.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. Closure.

Honey peaked its head out, to where the others were gathered. It hadn't been long since Honey stepped away to grab the tea. "Excuse this one," it walked towards them with the tea, careful not to spill it. "but how extreme of a mistake is losing a teabag's string in the pitcher?"

The others were flippant, but not dismissively so. It was a reassurance. "Completely negligible." "Like, zero out of ten?" "Aren't they left in iced tea anyway?" and a soft shake of the head.

"...Thank you all." The doll felt its shoulders relax. Something completely unworthy of scorn. It stood at the table, beginning by pouring for Sugar. "Lapsang souchong tea. It's known for its polarizing smokey flavour, so don't be afraid to sweeten it."

"Isn't that a black tea? Is that one ...going to be okay?" Lemon tilted its head, moving its glass closer to the edge of the table for convenience's sake.

"Honey's adjusted rather well to its dollhood." Sugar kept a collected disposition as it patiently waited for the others to be served. "This one trusts that it'll handle itself much better."

Cinnamon flinches away from its straw, quickly swallowing the sip it had in its mouth. "Mmf, sorry, that... wow." It looked over to Ginger, who had just finished adding its fourth spoonful of sugar. It leans in close to the other doll with a smirk of endearment. "Yeah, this one hears it." It playfully begrudges as it begins adding the sugar to Cinnamon's tea instead.

Its duty finished, Honey places the pitcher in the middle of the table as it takes its seat. With a tentative curiosity, it leans in, bringing the straw to its mouth. It winces.

"It... may need some additives, to be to this one's tastes." Without meaning to, Honey starts to smile. It's not perfectly polite, with a self-satisfied flash of teeth to the others, but the sincerity is unmistakable. "But... this one did a very good job anyway. It's very proud of itself."

[spacehareart]

Poppy Playtime Swap AU....!!!!!

Main Characters + Secondary Characters:

Harley Sawyer -> Player

Prototype -> Poppy

Yarnaby -> Kissy Missy

Mommy Longlegs -> Doey

Pianosaurus -> Huggy

Smiling / Nightmare Critters:

Baba Chops -> Dogday

Icky Licky -> Hoppy Hopscotch

Rabie Baby -> Bobby Bearhug

Allister Gator -> Kickin Chickin

Simon Smoke -> Craftycorn

Poe -> Catnap

Touille -> Bubba Bubbaphant

Maggie Mako -> Picky Piggy

Other Toys:

Candy Cat

Bee Cat

Bron

Boxy Boo

Boogie Bot

Bunzo

Daisy

Miss Delight

Petite puppy

Robodog

Pj pug a pillar

Actual info:

It just came to me because i thought at first swapping Harley with Poppy simply because the idea of a teeny tiny TV with limbs was making laugh so hard.

I lol'd then i srs'd /ref

Um! But then i thought about it. I really want to work on a swap AU. Its not just a swap. They dont swap personality exactly- but they are different. I haven't decided on their morals changing or not either. I do think it would be interesting.

I think Harley would be human simply because the player is seemingly human at the moment. But in the AU player is a toy. Undecided though.

I also want to clarify even the ones who don't have swaps exactly are slightly different.

Like Mommy and Doey for example. Mommy has Daddy and Baby Long legs, while Doey is just one of the kids at this point now.

Why did i pick Pianosaurus to replace Huggy? I thought it would be fun. Simple as that. I don't exactly like making literal one to one swaps. And no Huggy would have way more time than Pianosaurus does.

Miss Delight is different too! But i haven't decided too much on that.

Poppy is a slightly taller Doll, while Prototype is slightly smaller. I may change this somewhere down the line.

Thats all i have for now but i think i will work on designs!!!

[lunatic-pudge]

A Postal Birthday!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hey gang! It's my birthday, so here's a little set of headcanons of Postal Dude celebrating your birthday! Got some stuff coming down the pipeline so be on the look out. :D

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Now Dude isn't one who's gonna be going all out for your birthday. He tends to treat the day as any other but with a little more consideration for you

-Will probably act like it's his birthday as well (spoiled brat). Will want your undivided attention. Will moan and whine if you plan to spend the day with friends instead of him

-Would be a little more protective of you during the day. Maybe even, dare I say, possessive. Ready to attack anyone if they dare look at you even slightly wrong. This will lead to some jealous/birthday sex later

-Now let's look at how the many Dude would specifically wanna celebrate your birthday:

•P1 and P4 would prefer to stay in for the day. For P1, it would be cause of his paranoia while P4 just wants to be lazy

•P1 would try to make the day special by giving you any sort of sweets he has available. He'd probably give you a gun as a present and teach you how to use it if you don't know how

•P4 just wants to be able to laze around and not do much. He'd prefer to spend the day on his couch all cuddled up under his beloved Krotchy blanket, watching cheesy movies and having a good laugh

•P2, P3, and Movie Dudes would be more open to going out and actually doing stuff. By the end of the night, you're patching these goobers up cause of the chaos they cause

•P2 is getting you the latest Krotchy doll. He can't help himself. It's his go-to gift idea for people he cares about. Then you two will be eating at the local Cock Asian or getting some pizza. Loves showing you off and will your birthday as an excuse to get discounts on any gifts you want

•P3 is causing chaos. He's taking you on a riveting adventure full of chaos and kitties. Not gonna lie, I can see him taking you to the local strip club to celebrate. He's so cringe but it adds to his charm somehow. He makes it known that it's your special day and gets in several fights with people cause they're tired of hearing him yap. Why is he like this? Can I marry this man plz?

•Movie Dude is the most sane Dude of the bunch. He tries so hard to give you a normal and fun experience but being Dude, chaos is bound to follow him. He plans a romantic date but it inevitably ends up in a shootout cause he accidentally pissed off the wrong person.

[goticapomposa]

My kink is karma

Vi alcoholic x reader ex girlfriend

I haven't written in a while and English is not my first language, I welcome suggestions and ideas🩷🩷🩷

another one from the collection of stories based on Chappell Roan's songs, Vi as self-destructive alcoholic who only dragged reader into her shit, they end and then comes Chappell's song but with a "happy" ending.

DNI MEN ⚠️⚠️⚠️ MEN NOT ALLOWED⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

My Kink Is Karma

Vi was sprawled on the couch of a cheap brothel in Zaun, a cigarette between her fingers, a glass of some strong drink balanced on her knee. Her arm was thrown over her eyes, blocking the dim light of the flashing sign that illuminated the room.

She knew Reader would walk in any moment.

And she knew that "her doll" would be furious.

But Vi didn't care.

Or at least, that's what she tried to convince herself.

The door flew open, slamming against the wall. Reader stormed in, her eyes burning with fury, her hair loose and messy.

"So this is where you ended up this time." Her voice was full of venom.

Vi laughed, low and drawn out.

"Hey, kitty." She blew out the smoke from her cigarette and smiled mockingly. "I missed you."

"Don't fuck with me, Vi." — Reader marched up to her, snatching the cigarette from her hand and crushing it on the floor. — I’m tired of this shit.

Vi looked her up and down, an amused glint in her eyes.

“You look beautiful when you’re angry.”

Reader laughed—but it was a bitter, sharp laugh.

“And you look pathetic.”

Vi arched an eyebrow, tilting her head to the side.

“Is that any way to talk to your ex?”

Reader crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes.

“You think it hurts me to call me your ex?” She tilted her face, a cruel smile on her red-painted lips. “I’m over that phase, Vi.”

Vi felt something sink in her chest, but didn’t let it show.

“Oh, yeah?” She took a sip of her drink, letting the liquid burn in her throat. “So what are you doing here?”

Reader leaned over her, her fingers sliding along the collar of Vi’s wrinkled shirt. The touch was soft, but the eyes… the eyes were filled with something darker.

“I just wanted to see with my own eyes how far you’ve fallen. the shit you’ve done to yourself.”

Vi felt a shiver run down her spine, but she laughed.

“Did you like what you saw?”

Carol smiled, that smile sweet and venomous at the same time.

“I loved it.” She whispered, her lips dangerously close to Vi’s ear. “Because now I know that the only person who’s getting screwed in this story… is you.”

Vi squeezed the glass between her fingers, her jaw clenched.

The reader slowly backed away, her eyes shining with cruel satisfaction.

“I’m leaving now.” She said, adjusting her coat and turning to the door. “But make the most of this empty bed. I think you’ve gotten used to it, huh?”

Vi didn’t answer. She just watched her leave, leaving behind only the scent of the sweet perfume that used to permeate her sheets.

She closed her eyes and laughed to herself, but there was nothing funny about it.

Perhaps for the first time, the reader was no longer helping her, no longer caring about her.

And Vi knew, in that moment, that karma really was a bitch.

Vi lay there, sprawled on the couch, her eyes fixed on the peeling ceiling. The bitter taste of the drink was still in her mouth, but it wasn't enough to erase the taste of what Reader had left behind.

That cruel laugh.

That burning look.

The venom in her voice when she said "I loved it."

Vi laughed to herself, but the laughter died quickly.

Because it was true.

She had fallen.

And Reader saw every second of it happen.

The following nights were a blur.

More alcohol. More fights. More unfamiliar faces in bed.

But nothing filled the void.

Nothing took the echo of Reader's voice out of her head.

Vi could swear she could smell her perfume in the alleys, in the bars, even on the dirty sheets that didn't belong to anyone who mattered. But when she turned around, it was never "her doll."

Reader was no longer there.

And worse…

Reader didn't miss her.

The first time Vi saw her again was a punch in the gut.

The bar was crowded, the smell of alcohol and cigarettes permeating the air. Vi was in the back, one arm thrown over the back of the torn leather couch, a bottle dangling between her fingers.

That was when Reader walked in.

And she was… radiant.

The red dress clung to her body, the heavy boots tapping against the floor, the lips painted a shade Vi knew all too well.

But what really destroyed her was the company.

And she wasn’t alone.

She was with someone—a tall, pretty girl, with an easy smile.

Vi felt her muscles lock.

She saw Reader laugh, toss her hair back.

She saw the other girl touch her waist.

And she saw Reader let her.

That was when Vi knew.

Reader had really moved on.

And Vi?

Vi was still there.

Trapped.

Vi didn’t know how long she spent staring. She doesn’t know how many glasses she’s emptied while watching Reader be happy without her.

But when Reader finally noticed her presence, it was worse than any punch Vi had ever taken in her life.

Because Reader saw her.

And she didn’t look at her with anger.

She didn’t look at her with hurt.

She looked at her with pity.

Vi looked away immediately, her stomach churning.

That was it.

That was how Reader saw her now.

A lost cause.

A game won.

Karma well paid.

Vi staggered out of the bar later that night, her hands shaking, her head spinning.

She didn’t know if it was because of the drink or because of the hole in her chest.

Maybe both.

But the truth was clear now.

Reader wasn’t coming back.

And Vi?

Vi was exactly where Reader left her.

Alone.

Vi didn’t know how she got to the alley.

She only realized it when the metallic taste of blood invaded her mouth and the cold of the filthy Zaun floor bit her skin.

She blinked, dizzy. The world around her spun—the effect of the alcohol, the beatings she’d taken, or the shame burning in her chest.

She had gotten into a fight. Again.

She couldn’t remember why. It didn’t matter.

The only thing that mattered was Reader’s voice still echoing in her head.

The laugh.

The look of pity.

The way she’d let another girl touch her as if Vi had never existed.

Vi closed her eyes and laughed to herself, but it was a weak, broken laugh.

She tried to convince herself it didn’t hurt.

But it did.

She didn’t know how long she stood there.

But eventually, footsteps echoed in the alley.

Light, precise.

Vi knew that sound.

doll.

She opened her eyes slowly, blinking against the dim light of the flashing signs. Carol stood before her, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

Vi tried to laugh.

“What is it? Did you come to finish kicking me while I’m on the ground?”

Reader sighed, shaking her head. “Are you listening to yourself?”

Vi narrowed her eyes.

“I’m fine.”

“You look ridiculous,” Reader snapped, her voice sharp. “Look at you, Vi.”

Vi shrugged, her entire body aching. “You don’t have to pretend to care.”

Reader laughed, but it was a dry laugh. “I don’t care.”

The answer came quickly, sharply, like a blade piercing Vi’s ribs. She should have expected it. But hearing it from Reader’s mouth still hurt like hell.

She knelt beside her, her dark eyes glowing in the darkness. — You made a fool of me, Vi. — Her voice was low, but sharp as a knife. — You broke me and expected me to stand there, waiting.

Vi looked away.

She had no answer for that.

Reader continued.

— But look. — She smiled cruelly. — I didn't wait.

Vi let out a weak laugh.

— I noticed.

Reader tilted her head, her cold fingers brushing Vi's bruised face.

— And now you're here. — She whispered. — Alone.

Vi closed her eyes, trying to ignore the goosebumps on her skin.

She wanted to respond, wanted to fight, wanted anything to make Reader stop looking at her like that.

Then Reader grabbed Vi's arm, throwing it over her shoulder, lifting her up with her.

- I'm taking you home

Vi felt Reader's arm firmly around her, the warmth of her body contrasting with the cold of the street.

"I can walk on my own," Vi mumbled, trying to pull away, but her body protested in pain, and she almost fell again.

Reader held on tighter.

"Shut up."

Vi let out a weak laugh.

"Always so sweet."

Reader ignored her, guiding her through the dark streets of Zaun. Vi let herself be carried away, Reader's familiar scent invading her senses. There was something cruel about it—being so close and yet so far away.

They arrived at Reader's apartment. Small, but tidy. Unlike the chaos Vi was immersed in.

Reader led her to the couch and helped her sit down.

"Stay there," she said before disappearing into the bathroom.

Vi rested her head against the headrest, her eyes closing for a moment. The smell of the place was familiar. For a moment, she allowed herself to remember.

How she had slept there so many times.

How she had held Reader against that couch, the warm kisses, the laughter, the whispers.

But that time was long gone.

Reader came back with a wet cloth and knelt in front of Vi, cleaning the cuts on her face.

Vi watched in silence, her jaw clenched.

“Why do you still do that?” she whispered.

Reader didn’t look at her.

“Because I’m an idiot.”

Vi laughed, but there was no humor in it.

“What about me?”

Reader paused for a second, her eyes meeting Vi’s.

There was something there. Something Vi wanted to decipher, but Reader wouldn’t let slip.

“You?” Reader smiled, but it was a smile without joy. “You’re a mistake I haven’t learned to stop making yet.”

Vi swallowed hard.

She wanted to say that wasn’t true.

But it was.

And maybe, deep down, Reader knew that too.

She finished cleaning the cuts and stepped back a little, but didn’t move away. Her eyes remained fixed on Vi, as if trying to understand what was happening there—what was happening to them.

Vi didn’t say anything. She just watched her, as if she had run out of words. She could feel the weight of Reader’s words—a mistake I still haven’t learned to stop making—hanging in the air between them.

It was strange. This was strange.

Reader sat in the nearby armchair, crossing her legs, and remained there, quiet, silent. Vi didn’t want to break that silence, but she didn’t know what to do with it.

It was silent torture, that empty space between them.

Finally, Reader sighed and stood up, going to the kitchen. Vi heard her moving something, maybe a glass or a bottle, but she couldn’t pay attention to the details.

She was tired. Tired of everything. Tired of sinking deeper every time she thought about her, about Carol, about everything she had lost.

But when Carol came back with two glasses of water, Vi looked at her again. This time, Carol's eyes were softer, without that tension.

She handed one of the glasses to Vi.

"Drink. It'll do you good."

Vi took the glass, but didn't bring it to her lips right away. She stood there, staring at the liquid, feeling the weight of the unspoken words between them.

"You shouldn't help me."

Reader sat down next to Vi, her gaze softer now.

"I'm not good at leaving people alone when they need it the most. Even if you think you don't deserve it."

Vi looked at her. What was Reader saying? Because deep down, Vi knew she didn't deserve any of this. She didn't deserve the care. She didn't deserve the patience. She didn't deserve Reader back.

But Reader was there.

And it was as if everything Vi had ever done, all the screw-ups, all the mistakes, were being swept aside, as if Reader still believed it was worth it.

Vi took a sip from the glass, feeling the water burn, but it didn’t have the same effect she wanted. It didn’t erase the pain. It didn’t erase the weight of the guilt.

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” Vi said, her voice hoarse.

Reader turned her face to her, her gaze soft but steady.

“Maybe you don’t need to know. Maybe you just need to stop sinking any further. Maybe you just need to stop hurting yourself so much.”

Vi felt a growing pressure in her eyes, and the last thing she wanted to do was cry. But the feeling of being so broken, of being cared for by someone she had hurt so many times…

She swallowed hard, trying to push the feeling away.

Reader stood there, watching her, not pressuring her, not trying to rush things. She seemed to understand, without saying another word.

Finally, Vi looked at Reader

“Why do you still do this?”

Reader looked at her for a long moment, her eyes soft and, at the same time, determined.

“Because, in the end, you will always be mine.” She whispered, almost like a confession. “And until you understand that, until you allow yourself to return to what is real, I will be here. Even if I hurt you too.”

Vi swallowed hard.

And that, somehow, meant more than anything she could have expected.

The night passed in silence, with the two of them sitting there, sharing the drink and the space, without any more words. Time did not heal everything, but, for a moment, Vi felt something different. Maybe it was the beginning of a new chance.

Or maybe it was just the illusion of alcohol and Reader’s closeness.

But, at that moment, all she wanted was to believe.

The night was silent, broken only by the distant sounds of Zaun. Vi, still sitting on the couch, felt the heat of the drink burning in her throat, but it wasn’t enough to dispel the feeling of sinking again.

Reader was beside her, quiet, but her presence seemed more distant than ever. Vi could feel the chasm between them widening with each passing second. She was there, but she wasn’t really with her anymore.

Vi looked down at her shaking hands, the marks of her mistakes visible there. Not just in the wounds on her body, but in the invisible wounds Reader had left—and that she, Vi, had dug. “I…” Vi started to speak, but her voice trailed off. She didn’t even know where to begin. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Reader looked at her, but her expression was hard to read. “You never knew, Vi,” she said, her voice soft, but filled with a hardness that Vi felt deep down.

Vi felt the weight of it. She always thought she could figure it out on her own, always thought she had control of everything. But it was clear she never knew anything.

She looked at Reader, her eyes lost and desperate.

“Help me,” Vi whispered, her voice broken, like a lost child. She felt ridiculous. Pathetic. But the words came out before she could stop them. “Please… help me. I… I don’t know how anymore.”

Reader looked at her for a moment, her expression cold and distant. Then something passed in her eyes, maybe compassion, maybe something more. Reader sighed, but she didn’t seem as bitter as before.

“Do you think you’re going to make me feel sorry for you?” Reader asked, the words as sharp as a blow.

Vi felt heat rise to her face. Shame was taking over her, but she couldn’t stop. She leaned a little closer, her voice lower now, almost a whisper.

“I… I just… I just wanted to be the right person for you, doll.” — Vi swallowed hard, her throat tight. — I just wish you would still look at me like you used to. Like I mattered to you. I know I suck… I know I did everything wrong… But I still… I still need you.

Reader didn’t answer right away. Vi couldn’t look at her, feeling small and insignificant. She felt like a child who was begging for something she could never have.

Finally, Reader spoke, but the coldness in her voice didn’t lessen.

— I’m not your salvation, Vi. You need to save yourself. And if you can’t, you’ll sink deeper. I’m not going to pull you up again just so you can fall around the next corner.

Vi swallowed hard, the weight of Reader’s words crushing her. She felt dirty, filthy, like she was drowning in her own misery. She knew Reader was right, but she couldn’t pull herself away from the abyss.

— So… you’re just going to leave me like this? — Vi’s voice was barely audible, full of pain and desperation. She looked so fragile, so broken. Her pride had long since dissipated, and now all that was left was shame.

Reader watched her for a moment, her gaze deep, as if she were analyzing every piece of Vi. The distance between them seemed greater than ever, but something in Reader's expression finally gave way.

She approached, without saying a word, and Vi felt her arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. Vi's head rested on Reader's shoulder, and she was not ashamed of giving in, of feeling weak, of feeling small, because at that moment, all she wanted was her doll. She needed her safety, even though she knew she didn't deserve it.

"I'm shit, Reader..." Vi whispered, her voice choked, full of despair. "I know I am. I always am. I don't know what to do anymore. I don't know who I am anymore." Reader took a deep breath, holding Vi in her arms, but her expression didn't change.

"I know," Reader murmured. — I know, Vi. But you’re going to have to learn to deal with it. I’m not going to carry you around forever.

Vi felt a deep pain in her chest, but she didn’t pull away. She wanted more. She wanted Reader to forgive her, she wanted things to go back to the way they were before, but she knew that was asking too much.

But right there, in that moment, something in Reader seemed to give in.

She wasn’t leaving. Not yet.

And that, for some reason, was enough for Vi.

For now.

Vi didn’t know what was moving her, but without thinking, she lowered herself to the ground. The cold of the concrete floor spread through her legs, but she didn’t even feel it. Her mind was too cloudy, her heart too heavy to care.

The tears began to fall, hot and heavy, and she couldn’t stop them. Her body shook, and for a moment, she felt more vulnerable than she had ever felt before. Her pride was gone, dissolved along with the pain and the drink.

She knelt in front of the reader, her eyes watering, her chest tight.

“Baby doll, please…” Vi’s voice sounded broken, as if she were begging for a shred of mercy. “Forgive me… Forgive me, please… I don’t know what I did. I just know that I can’t… I can’t live without you.”

The words came out in an uncontrolled rush, as if all the pain she had tried to hide for so long was being forced out.

She looked up at Reader, her face contorted with pain and shame. Her breathing was ragged, the feeling of being lost consumed her, and the one thing she wanted, more than anything, was Reader.

“I… I’m nothing without you, Doll. Please… please let me come back. I… I can change. I can be better. Just… just don’t leave me like this, please.”

Reader remained silent, watching Vi, her gaze fixed but expressionless. She didn’t look pitiful. She didn’t look angry. She looked distant. Cold.

And that cut deeper than any insult or rejection.

Vi didn’t know what else to do. She no longer had the strength to get up, but she didn’t want to be abandoned. She didn’t want to lose herself anymore.

With tears streaming down her face, she crawled a little closer to Reader, until she was only inches away from her. Then, without saying a word, she put her hands on Reader’s waist and held on tight. Her body was shaking, and the feeling of despair was overwhelming.

She hugged her tightly, almost desperately, as if it was the last thing she could do to keep from sinking completely.

“I need you, Reader. Don’t leave me. I love you. I love you so much, I… I need you…”

The words were coming out meaningless, but she didn’t care anymore. She was lost in a sea of ​​despair, and Reader was the only anchor she had left.

Reader stood still for a moment, but then, gently, she ran one of her hands through Vi’s hair, touching her lightly, stroking Vi’s hair.

Vi didn’t know what that meant. She didn’t know if it was an attempt at comfort or just Reader’s reaction to her despair. But at that moment, all she wanted was for Reader to not let go of her.

She couldn’t see herself without her anymore.

Vi’s head rested on Reader’s abdomen as she cried, the sound of her sobs muffled against the other girl’s body.

She was completely surrendered, not just physically, but emotionally. She was waiting for Reader to do what she always did—rescue her, take her back, as if it were still possible to fix everything. But at the same time, a part of Vi knew it wouldn’t be that simple.

She had made too many mistakes to be forgiven so easily. Still, she didn’t know what to do without this chance. “I… I’ll get better, Doll. For you. I’ll do whatever it takes, just… don’t leave me alone. Don’t leave me alone again…”

Reader didn’t answer. She didn’t say anything. But the caress she gave Vi, though silent, was a sign that maybe, just maybe, there was still something there. Vi didn’t know what the future held for them. But for a moment, she had what she craved most—the feeling of being home, in Reader’s arms. Even if this was some kind of illusion.

She held on tighter, breathing deeply, as if it was the only thing that could make her survive whatever was coming.

Reader watched Vi's despair, the weight of her words and her uncontrollable crying, and suddenly, what was left of her coldness crumbled. Her expression, previously hard and impenetrable, softened when she saw Vi there, kneeling on the floor, completely lost in her own demons.

Without a word, Reader leaned forward, took Vi's hands and pulled her forcefully from the floor. Vi was so fragile, so broken, that it seemed that she didn't have the strength to get up on her own.

With a delicate movement, Reader hugged her against her body, her warm breath invading Vi's skin, and her hair falling over the other girl's back like a soft curtain. Vi didn't resist. She was completely enveloped in Reader's arms, as if, by being embraced, she could finally find some kind of salvation, even if temporary.

Reader held her very close, as if she wanted to wrap Vi in an invisible shield, protecting her from the shadows that consumed her. Her hands went to Vi's hair, stroking it gently, but with an intensity that spoke more than words could express.

Vi closed her eyes, letting her crying calm down little by little. She felt the warmth of Reader's body, the softness of her touch, and that, somehow, brought her a comfort she never knew she needed.

"I'm here, Vi," Reader murmured, her words soft and filled with something Vi couldn't identify. Maybe it was affection.

Maybe it was a remnant of everything they had been before. "I know you're not okay. I know you're broken. But you still have a piece of me. And I won't let you fall completely. Not this time." Vi sobbed again, but didn't pull away. She held tighter to Reader's waist, as if it was the only thing capable of keeping her upright.

Reader, calmly, rocked her gently, holding her even closer, as if she were trying to protect her from the whole world. She didn't know what else to do, but at that moment, it seemed like enough.

Vi, with her eyes closed, took a deep breath and murmured, almost inaudibly:

"I don't deserve this... I don't deserve your affection..."

Reader squeezed a little tighter, as if wanting to convey all the care she felt, and said, in a firm and soft voice:

"Yes, you do. Even when you don't believe it. Even when you don't see it. You still deserve to be loved... even if you made a mistake."

Reader's words were a beacon, something Vi was desperate to believe.

The hug remained there, the warmth between them creating a refuge that Vi didn't want to leave. She felt Reader's heartbeat, the softness of her breathing and the firmness of her body around her, and it calmed her in a way that nothing else could.

Vi knew that nothing was resolved, that she was still far from finding a path to her own salvation. But at least there, in Reader’s embrace, she felt that maybe there was something to hold on to. Something beyond the pain and loss.

She sighed, relaxing a little in Reader’s arms, and for the first time in a long time, she felt that, for a brief moment, everything would be okay.

Not because things were resolved, but because, at least for now, she wasn’t alone.

I hope you enjoyed it, do you guys have any suggestions for the next song?

[sellotaped-cookie-crumble]

Since I have been full of ideas for the past few days here are some more headcanons, but with a twist. People are also able to request like this!!! :D

Some In-Ho and Gi-Hun playdate headcanons!

Auuugh these two babies would be so cute together! Obviously In-Ho would have to look out for Gi-Hun, since he regresses older than him. They would definitely regress in In-Ho's lair.

Since In-Ho doesn't really speak when little, there isn't much conversation between the two. But that doesn't stop Gi-Hun from talking and rambling about things. He makes sure to look up at the other for reassurance, and he occasionally nods to show that he is still listening. When Gi-Hun is really young though, he babbles instead.

For what they like to do on their playdates, first on the list is boardgames. They play basic things like snakes and ladders, cards, ludo, ect. Gi-Hun really likes snakes and ladders, because it doesn't need much thinking. In-Ho prefers ludo, because it lasts longer. If you look closely enough, you can see a smile on his face when he knocks out one of Gi-Hun's figures back to its home.

Second on the list of things is building blocks. They play with off brand Lego Duplo, and make houses and shops. Sometimes they roleplay, and make their own characters, pretending that one is a customer and the other is the cashier, or a mom and a dad in a house, or two animals!

Lastly, these two would watch their childhood cartoons. I can't name any, because I'm not an expert in Korean cartoons, but I just know that they would have it on in the background.

Their bedtime routines are quite different. Gi-Hun needs a snack before bed, then brush his teeth, lay out his bed a certain way, change into his pyjamas, put on a story to fall asleep to. But then In-Ho on the other hand starts off with making his bed, then change his clothes, brush his teeth, wash his face, get into bed feeling nice and fresh, and put on some sleep music. They try to co-operate with their routines, and have agreed to brush their teeth together, because In-Ho doesn't like doing it and needs a friend to help him.

When they finally get into their beds, almost every time one of them will crawl into the others bed. You would think that Gi-Hun would do it more, but In-Ho is just as clingy. They both just hug each other in their sleep, and they make sure to keep the other safe. In the mornings, In-Ho always apologises for the small wet patch of his drool, and Gi-Hun does the same for keeping so close to the other that they are practically on the edge of the bed.

I didn't have the best day today, and I was so unproductive even though I was meant to get a lot done. But I really like writing, and seeing that others like my stuff, especially other blogs that I find really really cool. I'm too scared to admit which blogs those are though.

AUUUGH THEM!!!! THEYRE BOTH SO ADORABLE I NEED THEM TO JUST MWAH MWAH MWAH LIKE TWO BARBIE DOLLS!!!!

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 68

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,380ish

Summary: A memory comes up that has you thrown into a bad place.

Notes: Please send in reactions!  HELP PLAN MY NEW LOGAN SERIES HERE.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

A few months pass with you and Logan going on more dates and spending a lot more time together than you had been previously. The two of you still haven’t kissed as you are still getting used to the idea of dating and the two of you haven’t make anything official yet. Logan respected your need to go slow. You had been in a relationship with your dead husband for decades and both of you knew going into this that this wouldn’t be easy.

Logan made his usual route over to your bar, where you were looking busy wiping down the counter. His help tilted in concern as you didn’t appear to sense him as he came closer. You usually did and lit up his whole world with that smile of yours. 

“Hey, darlin’,” he greeted with a smile, hoping that it would wash away whatever was wrong.

“Oh,” you glanced up and then went back to your work, “hi, Logan.”

His brows pinched together. He couldn’t remember the last time you called him that. “You okay?”

“Fine.”

“You sure?”

“Just a long day. I’m going finish up helping the last of the customers.”

“Hey.” He reached over and gently grabbed your wrist, only to gasp. “Doll, how long have you been that cold?”

You pulled free from his grip. “Not now, Logan.” Then you rushed off.

Logan’s eyes followed, trying to see any signs that more was wrong than you just being cold. As you finished up helping customers, Logan got to his usual closing duties. He kept his eyes on you as you did your duties. You still wouldn’t look at him. After the bar was locked up, Logan threw his jacket over your shoulders and pulled it tight around you.

“I told you I’m fine,” you grumbled.

“Doesn’t matter,” he replied. “It’s my job to make sure.” You sighed, letting him pull your arms through and zip you up. “There. Better.” You folded your arms across your body, wishing that you could simply disappear. Logan put an arm around you, immediately noticing the way you tensed as he pulled you into his side. “Doll, I’m worried—“

“Can we just get home? I just want to be home.”

Logan nodded. “We can do that.”

~~~

Logan went to open the apartment door but you quickly swatted his hand away.

“Thanks for walking me home,” you said, keeping your voice as even as possible. You couldn’t look at him. “I’ll give your jacket back in the morning.”

“Y/N,” his hand gently grasped your elbow. “Please look at me. Tell me what’s wrong. Your skin is cold and you aren’t acting like normal… At least call me, Lo. Please, darlin’, talk to me.”

You sniffled, growing emotional as you pulled from his grasp. “Goodnight, Logan.” Then you slipped into the apartment, quickly locking it behind you.

~~~

Logan couldn’t sleep. Too worried about you. He got up in the morning and went to the nearest bakery and flower shop. He hoped that he could help you have a better day today. When he reached your apartment, Logan’s heart cracked a little when he found it locked. He knocked, grip tightening on the items he was holding. He didn’t know how to feel when Laura opened the door.

“Hey, Logan,” she looked sad, too, and concerned.

“I brought these for your mom,” Logan said. “Is she around?”

Laura sighed. “It’s a bad day.”

“In what way?”

“Every way, but it’s really not my place to tell you. I have to go to work and school but I don't want to leave her alone.”

“I don’t work. I’ll stay with her.”

“I don’t know, Logan. She’s… she’s really struggling today.”

“I can handle it and I’ll call you if anything happens. I promise… I just want to be there for her, whatever it is.”

Laura hesitated before nodding and opening the door wider. Logan stepped in and looked around, hoping to see you appear. The only thing he noticed was that he jacket had been tossed onto the couch with some burn marks on it. It was breaking his heart to know that you were struggling and pushing him away.

“She may remain in her room for most of the day,” Laura stated as she gathered her stuff. “She…” She glanced down the hall. “She’s only had a few days like this since I’ve been with her. But, they haven’t necessarily been this bad and having an effect on her powers like this.”

“But you know why she’s acting this way?”

“I do,” Laura nodded. 

“And… are you okay?”

Laura was taken by surprise. No one had ever asked her that on your bad days. “As long as she is, I will be.”

~~~

When you finally appeared from your room, you looked like you had been crying. It broke Logan’s heart. He was sitting on the couch, tense, as he watched you move around like you didn’t see him. You glanced at the pastries Logan had set on a plate on the table. Logan could hear your stomach rumble before you took the plate and disappeared back into your room. It should have made him feel better that you were going to each something, but it didn’t. You were looking like the whole weight of the world was on you and Logan wished that he could carry it with you.

It wasn’t long before Logan could hear your sobs from your room and he began pacing. He had to do something. He paced for a while before he began to clean everything he could. 

Lunch time rolled around and he grabbed some waters and made you an easy meal before heading to your door. He knocked it lightly.

“I brought you some food and drink, darlin’,” he said. He could smell a tinge of your smokey scent, causing his heart to drop. “I’m worried, doll. Please let me in.”

You didn’t answer, sobs spilling out of your room. He clenched his eyes shut, trying to stop himself from busting down the door.

“I’m just gonna leave the food out here, okay?” He continued. “I’ll be in the living area if you need me.” He bent down and left the food there before sulking away.

Logan counted the minutes until you opened the door to grab the items and disappear again. Seven minutes. At least he knew that you were getting something in you.

It was late afternoon when Laura texted and said that she would be home late. Logan told her that he had everything under control. He made dinner and set it outside her door before going back to the living area. He turned on the tv and tried not to fall asleep in case you needed him. His eyes end up winning and he falls asleep for a little while. When he does wake up, he sees you sitting at the table, tears sizzling down your face, with a bottle of whiskey you usually kept for him against your lips.

“Doll?” Logan immediately shoots up and heads for you. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” you cry. “Please, just go home, Logan. I’m fine. I’m okay.”

Crouching down beside you, he placed a hand on your thigh. It’s warm compared to last night, but it’s not as warm as it should be. “But you’re not okay. You’re crying and you’re sad… I’m worried. Please, darlin’, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I— I— Today— I don’t want you to leave.”

“What? I’m not going anywhere, doll. Why would you—“

“Today’s the day I lost him.” The pieces click instantly for Logan and he now wishes that he had done something more for Laura as well. “It’s— It’s stupid because it doesn’t actually happen for another four years, but to me…”

“No, no, baby,” Logan shook his head. “It’s not stupid at all. You lost him, no matter what year it was. You lost him. And you have every right to be sad about that.”

“I miss him… I miss my James. Oh gosh!” You scrambled back out of the seat. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said that to you! I’m sorry.”

“Darling, baby, it’s alright. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.” Without warning, random objects around the apartment begin to go up in flames. “You don’t deserve that… You deserve better, Logan… I’m sorry that I can’t give you that.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he came closer, watching as fire spread around your body. “Please stop that, darlin’. Stop saying those things and… and please stop burnin’ yourself.”

“Are you going to leave because I miss him?”

“Never,” he shook his head. “No… I am so grateful for your James. He took care of you and loved you and got you to me… without him, I wouldn’t have you or Laura in my life. I would have walked away from Wade and never turned back… I would never leave because you miss your husband.”

“Really?”

“Really, darlin’. You’re stuck with me.”

You dropped to your knees on the floor, fires burning all around, as you sobbed. Logan moved to mirror your position, right in front of you. 

“Baby, please, I need you to try and control your powers.” He couldn’t help but notice how you were trembling and how burns were forming on your skin. “You’re hurting yourself, doll.”

“Lo… I need help…”

Logan lunged forward, flames be damned. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into him. “I’ve got you, darlin’… I’ve got you.”

“I smelt smoke!” Wade said, bursting into the apartment. “What’s going on?” He looked around to see various small fires everywhere. “Shit!”

“Wade, I need you to try to put the fires out. I’ve got to put her out.”

“On it!”

Wade began rushing around while Logan picked your flaming body up and carried you into the bathroom. He turned the shower on cold and climbed in under the stream, still holding you close. Your flames died and were quickly replaced with you shivering.

“Lo—Lo— I’m c-c-cold…” you stammered.

“Fuck,” he muttered. He stepped out of the shower and pulled you out of your clothes before wrapping you in multiple towels. “I’m gonna get you warmed up, baby.”

He stripped himself of his own clothes, leaving him in only boxers. He wrapped you up in his arms and carried you to your bedroom. He got you tucked in and cuddled you close to try and use his body heat to warm you up.

“All the fires are taken care of,” Wade said, peering into the bedroom.

“Thanks,” Logan responded. “Can you get me some clothes and gather supplies to take care of her burns?”

“Can do! I’ll be right back!”

“Lo…” you rasped.

He quickly shushed you. “Rest, baby. I know it hurts. I know you’re cold. I’m gonna take care of ya.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’m gonna fix this.”

~~~

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Logan asked as Wade returned with the asked items.

“What? This beauty?” Wade questioned, showing off his ‘#1 Ember Fan’ shirt.  You huffed out a barely there laugh, fluttering in and out of consciousness. “Don’t worry, Peanut, I have one here for you and one for Little Wolf.”

Logan rolled his eyes, before slowly pulling himself away from you. You whined. “I’m sorry, doll. I’ve got to deal with these burns of yours before they get worse.”

“Don’t fret, Buttercup!” Wade came over and sat down beside you. “I’ll hold your hand.” He took one of your hands and pressed a kiss to the back of it. 

You pressed out a smile for Wade and barely squeezed his hand. He shot you a smile before shooting Logan a concerned look. Wade never thought you could feel this cold. Logan looked away, trying to pull himself together as he slipped on the sweats Wade had brought him. He arranged all the items to take care of your burns on the nightstand at got to work. You whined, cried, and whimpered as Logan took care of your burnt skin. Both Logan and Wade told you encouraging words as it continued. But the time Logan was done, you were unconscious.

“She’s getting worse,” Wade stated as he helped Logan clean up and leave you alone to rest.

“I know,” Logan mumbled.

“How long as she been that cold?”

“I just noticed yesterday.”

“Yesterday? That happened in one day?”

Logan nodded. “Thanks for your help. I’m going to stay here in case she needs anything and wait for Laura to come home.”

“Alright, Peanut. I’ll be need door if you need anything.”

“Thanks.”

~~~

Laura came home about an hour later. She was immediately on alert as she smelt the smoke still in the air.

“What happened?” Laura fretted. “Is mom okay?”

“She’s fine. She told me what today was and freaked. Wade and I handled it.”

“So, you know?”

“I do… and I’m sorry. What can I do for you, Laura?”

Laura shook her head, tearing up. Logan came closer and pulled her in for a hug. Laura broke into sobs as Logan held her close. He kissed her head and remained silent, willing to follow her lead. When she pulled away, she quickly wiped her tears.

“Thank you, Logan,” she rasped. “For taking care of me and my mom.”

“Of course,” he replied. He glanced down the hall, eyes locked on your door. “I… I love her, you know… I never thought I would fall in love again, not after… But your mom, she just—she does things to me. She forces me to be a better man than I ever was before and it scares me. I know that I’m not good enough for her, I can’t save her from what’s coming… All I ask is that she let me love her. Let me take care of her and share this burden. That’s all I ask of her… that she let me love her.”

“She loves you, too, Logan. She just may not know how to tell you just yet.”

“She doesn’t ever have to tell me. I don’t need that from her.”

Laura nodded, finally noticing his shirt. “Ember’s #3 fan, huh?”

He rolled his eyes. “Wade has one for you too. Yours is #2.”

She scoffed. “He wishes.”

next chapter >

[i-like-forcefem]

Okay, here me out: forcefem two guys at once and brainwash them specifically to start falling for each other and be cute little girlfriends…I cannot get that thought out of my head. How would you go about it?

Well you know you could forcefem both of them and hypnotise them to date each other, or, and hear me out here cutie, you hypnotise each of them to try and forcefem the other and turn the other into their girlfriend, the hypnosis will make them fall in love with the other, but only want the other as their girlfriend

Then I’ll teach them one on one through my usual forcefem drills, tell them how I make all my cuties (how to hide hide E in food, how to get a “guy” to admit “he” looks good in skirts, the whole 12 step program), and then let them loose on each other, both determined to make the other their girlfriend

And then they’ll be so so busy forcefemming the other that they don’t even notice that they’re also being turned into a beautiful girl

I wonder how long it will take before they realise that actually they’re a pair of cute lesbians

[umblrspectrum]

hi heres art so you pay attention to me now go read the tags

[randomfandomss]

+Bonus ✨️