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dilf-docs · 3 months ago

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hii i just read ur eddie x young reader. And i LOVE ITTTT

Can u please do something similar but with young neighbor reader? Where the reader moves in an apartment beside eddie . They meet each one day and they hit it off? (nsfw )

(Ignore this if u don’t like the idea or u can change it)

Knockin' On Heaven's Door

eddie brock x younger fem!reader

summary: you're what people call a ray of sunshine, probably the most likeable person in the planet. so why is this hot idiot next door so mean to you?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (you know this blog lives by its name), smut, sunshine!reader x grumpy! eddie (cause his ass just got dumped lol), enemies to lovers (one-sided), kinda mean!eddie, porn with little to no plot, power goes out so they get freaky in the dark, use of pet names, p. in v.(use protection guys pls!!! don't be like this dumbasses fucking raw in the dark), oral (m. receiving), creampie, no venom :(

word count: 4,069 words (it's almost midnight again, me thinks I've forever messed up my sleep schedule cause ain't no way inspo only grows as per my eyebags lol)

side note: got my first request on tumblr!! (insert scarlett johanson dancing in marriage story gif). i love looove the neighbours trope so much (hey! if i had a hot older neighbour i would be doing the most to interact with them, bet); hope this lives up to ur expectations even if i tweaked a few things! also, this happens after eddie gets dumped by anne and moves out of the house lol so he's angry, moppy, horny and dry. what if i make this a series tho, would you like that? requests are open!

You're what people call a ray of sunshine. Ever since you managed to talk, all that comes out of you is happiness: the first sound to come out of your mouth was a laugh, your first word was smile, you have Love as your second name, you made friends on real time record, the profession you chose was that of a patissier and the first ink to grace your skin was a little heart tattoo.

Okay, maybe you've made it your whole personality to be likeable. So what? It's not your fault you light up every place you go, that people love you effortlesly and that life seems to smile your way.

It's the way the cookie crumbles, a fitting phrase for a pastry chef like you. Your friends often joked about it: you, a sweet person, baking little sweet goods to make other's lives sweeter.

And you loved it: your life, your job, your family, friends, cat and little apartment in San Francisco.

There was just one thing missing: because no matter how sweet you made other's peoples worlds by existing, no one was there to make it for you.

Alright, you had enough love and just loved love for the sake of it. Sometimes, a tidbit of romance through your screen or through the couple-d lives of your friends sufficed such desire, but its a lie to say you haven't dreamed of your own.

So when Johanna, the girl who lives across you, comes rushing with the newest gossip: "hot new neighbour moving next door!", there's something that tells you it might be time.

"You have to see him" she emphasizes, "a total eye candy"

That ignites the curiosity inside you, and after some weeks hearing through your walls grunts next door and a constant shuffle of things originally packed in boxes, you find yourself knocking on his door, tray of cookies in your hands.

Yes, you did bake them for him. After all, your chocolate chip cookies are a killer! People do lines to get them at your aunt's cafeteria, just to taste the warm soft dough, the chocolate melting on their mouths. You do this for every other new neighbour that comes around, it's just how you are! But the cookie choice is totally intentional though.

The door flinges open, and for the very first time in years, you find yourself at loss for words; speechless.

The stranger before you is a face you'll never forget. Handsome, of course, but there is something alluring in his beauty, one you can't exactly name, but comes along in a pair of thick lips, brown warm eyes and ink sprinkled across strong arms. Your heart hammers in your chest, and it takes all in you to not drop the tray in your chest right here and now.

"Hey!" you find your voice again. Clearing your throat, you proceed. "You're our new neighbour, right? I'm y/n, I live next door. Thought you'd like something sweet to eat after all that effort" you push the tray to the front, "I made this myself!"

He just stares back, blinking. You think he may be confused by your random act, but it's quite normal to do so with newbies. You love welcoming acts!

The awkward stiffness he radiates doesn't deter you away, though. "This are for you" you insist, "or just take one, if you don't want them all..."

"I hate chocolate" he finally says, with such a scowl on his face, you'd think you killed his entire family.

Oh! He hates chocolate? Who hates chocolate?!

You suddenly feel small and stupid. Without much else to say, you don't know how to proceed. You have your way with words, but no one has ever rejected you in the cold open before. It's left you baffled.

Then, a light bulb goes on in your head.

"Wait, I know you!" he quirks an eyebrow. "You're that reporter from TV, Eddie Brock" you gush, "I love helping others, but what you do is amazing... you're, like on other level, giving a voice to those who don't have one"

You admired him; he was someone who was brave and cared.

"Not anymore" and then the door slams in your face.

It takes you a while to process there, standing in the eerie silence of the empty hall, that Eddie Brock may be the very first person in the world who doesn't like you.

In the end, you'd given the batch of cookies to the homeless people living around your building. Even if it made you feel good, the pang in your chest didn't go away. You simply couldn't forget about the incident (because of pride and embarrasment in equal parts), plus, the fact that he lived next door and you couldn't go on about your day without hearing him pace around his apartment, made the task of forgetting about it difficult.

So in the following days you've avoided him, which has been pretty easy so far, since he barely leaves his apartment and you're busy with work and stuff.

It's friday night, and with the next week's groceries in hand, you take the elevator. The door's about to close when it opens again. You can't believe it: after successfuly evading him for five days, Eddie Brock is trapped with you inside the reduced space; you shouldn't been lazy and taken the stairs instead.

"'Night" he mutters, and you swear you've gone deaf because you barely hear so. You don't know what to do, so you just stand there, clutching your tote bag a little too hard. It could be an accident: he's too drunk out of his mind and doesn't know it's you.

It's not like he's been so nice, but after his asshole-ish move last time you saw each other, you don't expect basic courtesy towards you either.

You get a whiff of his scent, mixed with traces of whiskey. It's unfair how intoxicating it feels―how it's got you wanting more of what isn't yours.

God knows it's been long enough since you've wanted a man this bad.

It's not until the elevator dings again that you realize you've been holding your breath the entire time.

"Bye, pretty"

He casually exits out into your same floor never looking back, without realizing the effect his words have on you, hope slowly making its way through the creaks of your open heart.

Okay, maybe it's your fault for raising such high stakes based on two words and a silly little drunk interaction. Maybe you deserve it: because you've become a bit obsessed with the fact that Eddie hates you, but after yesterday, you've already traced a truce in your mind.

Even Johanna has told you to be cool about it. "It's time someone didn't like you" she joked, but you didn't find it funny. She insisted it's not important, but to you it is! How can he not like you? Maybe if he had a valid reason, you'd stop insisting, despite the let down. But he doesn't have one! And you've been nothing but kind! You think too much about it because it doesn't make any damn sense: you're loosing your mind and your friend just laughs.

The only reason you haven't talked to him again, is because work load has catched up to you.

But now you're here, out on the street, and the first person you see is him: on top of his bike, ready to go out.

"Nice!" you chirp. It may not be a top brand, but the black vehicle is as cool as its owner: the leather jacket, worn out jeans and beat up look is an insane combination that may or may not have you drooling.

"Huh?" he looks back at you, and you swear your cheeks reddened in embarrasment at his deadpan expresion.

"Nice bike, I mean" you nervously laugh, fiddling with a loose string of your sweater. "I love seeing them, but I don't think I'll ever ride one. I get scared too easily, you know?"

He puts his helmet on, "Alright"

Not even a thanks or an attempt of a small talk; what an idiot. Didn't he talk to you last time? Called you pretty? Why is he acting so curt right now?

"Hey, what is your pro-"

Your question doesn't get to be finished, because the engine roars and he's out of there, leaving you confused inside a cloud of smoke, the trail leaving with your last sparks of hope.

It's one of those nights where you just want to lay down and let sleep take control of your body. As soon as you get in your comfy pajamas and sink in the mattress, a noise erupts through the air. Startled, you raise on your feet, the slumber long gone.

Fuck. This hasn't been your week, has it?

The noise comes from outside, and you know who it is: the guy who lives in the corner, right next to the window; he who brings too many women home and plays his guitar a little too loud. It's late an he isn't getting the memo, clearly.

You swing your door open, ready to give him a piece of mind (and perhaps dump your accumulated stress from the week), until you realize you aren't the only one outside on the hall. It's Eddie, and he looks just as pissed as you do.

"Can't sleep?" he asks in a mocking tone, all while avoiding your eyes, rather focused on the common enemy's door.

"What do you think?" you reply, equaling his tone.

You both agree in silence, walking to his door. After some knocking, the guy opens his door: less thrilled when he sees Eddie and more complaint when he sees you.

"Sure, sweetheart. I'll keep it down" and winks. The nerve of this guy. Even Eddie is frowning, surely annoyed at his lack of etiquette. "You can knock anytime, noise or not".

The door closes, but it's Brock who did it, not guitar guy. You're too tired to ask, and after picking what's left of your dignity around him, you decide it's best to walk back to your apartment.

"You know what's funny?" you stop your tracks, laughing, but it's devoid of amusement, "I lost my sleep".

He just stares back, and you're tired of the way conversations have to run by your side, for the very first time. You keep on walking, but as soon as your hand touches your doorknob, he speaks up:

"Goodnight" a small truce, you think. But you're not falling this time.

So you do the right think: walk inside without saying a word, and just like him, never looking back.

You wake up agitated in the middle of the night. It's raining: not just a normal rain but a huge storm. You look over at your alarm, noticing its characteristically red numbers are as pitch black as the sky above you. It's also thundering, and God, do you hate noises and thunder.

You jump again at another one cutting through the sky, and decide it's for the best to just stay awake until it's time to wake up. According to your phone, you have about three hours until morning rises. That's enough time to watch a movie or two. Even to pet your cat, which is laying next to your bed, clearly unbothered―unlike his owner.

But there's a problem: when you try to turn the switch, no lights go on. Your incredulous laugh ecos in the room.

Not only a storm, but also a fucking black out.

Scare slowly creeps up, and the shivers you feel are definitely not only because of the temperature drop.

So you grab your phone and head out, without clearly thinking and obviously in panic, because the first thing you do is knock on your neighbour's door.

Eddie's.

"Oh!" it takes a while for him to answer his door, but when he does, his phone's flashlight burns your eyes. "Sorry" he apologizes, and you don't know if it's for that or the fact he didn't answer; maybe for everything too, "didn't hear the knocking with all the thunder".

You say it's fine, that you're just checking to see if you're not the only one without light.

He flicks a nearby switch to no avail, "I'm afraid everyone in the whole building too"

Eddie probably notices your frightened state, the way you shiver like a lost puppy, and feels sorry.

"Wanna come inside?" he offers, hands inside his grey sweater's pockets.

For the very first time since you met him, he looks at you, but really looks at you: eyes roaming over your body, an all too familiar feeling painted across his brown orbs.

You realize a bit late what you're wearing: a teensy short and top, a set of pajamas that happens to be your most comfortable. Favorite too. Appropiate for this emergency meeting? Maybe not.

"You want me to?" you asked, confused. "I thought you hated me"

The only sound across the hall is the droplets of rain outside, some tapping in the window next to you and his apartment.

He looks rather embarrased, "I don't".

"Then you're just an idiot" you counter back, and he doesn't fight you about it.

"Fair" he says, "I can make some coffee?"

Maybe he's pretty convincing or you're a people pleaser, but as soon as he proposes, you're caving in just like that.

"Fine, but you better let me bring my cat"

Truth is, Muffin plays hard to get, but now he's resting in Eddie's lap―purring, as you two sip quietly on your coffee. Traitor.

"I used to have a cat" he says, cutting through the silence.

"Oh!" you leave your mug on his table, next to the candle; the only source of light in the room, "didn't think of you as a cat person".

"Tecnically, it belongs to my fiancée. Sorry, ex-fiancée" he makes a pause, "bet that cat doesn't miss me".

"I didn't know you had a, uh-" you're not sure how to proceed, so you trail off. Muffin jumps from Eddie's lap to the kitchen, lost in the dark.

"Yeah, I had a fiancée, cat, house, and job. Then I lost everything" he dry chuckles, humorlessly, "guess that's why I'm so bitter"

"I'm sorry" you say on the most sincere tone you can muster. Eddie wonders how can you be so kind and forgiving, especially after he's been nothing but an asshole to you.

"Doesn't mean I should've been a douchebag for no reason. You didn't deserve it" he apologizes, embarrased.

You stay in silence for some more time but then he says: "Not an excuse, but it's been real bad days"

The candlelight is so flickering, you don't know if he's seen your eyes, but by the way he gulps, you think he did.

"Maybe... I could offer a helping hand"

Why had you said that? Are you out of your mind? You barely know the guy, who, by the way, had been a jackass to you like, five minutes ago. But he's hot! And you love to help!

Jesus, talk about dignity and boundaries.

"Y-you would?" he stammers, but the way his hand travels to your lap reveals nothing but security.

He's not asking if you've gone insane or what exactly you mean by that: he's just asking if you would do it.

Would you help?

"Don't you know, Eddie?" your voice drops a sultry octave, "I love to help".

You lean close enough for him to smell the cinammon scent of your skin. Soon, he's leaning too, playing along even against his better judgment. It's too soon, but he's so drawn into you and can't resist it no more; ever since he met you.

His cock twitches in his pants, "help me, then"

It happens too fast, one second you're sipping on your coffee, looking like the most warm and softhearted person in the world and now you're on your knees, deep into his carpet, tugging at his belt with your teeth, a hunger he hasn't seen before in your eyes and filthy needy mouth.

Sex with Anne was sweet and normal. Vainilla. You smell like it too, but there's a difference: you have the appetite of a siren.

Using your hands, you remove the leather your teeth had beggin with, moving them to tug his ripped jeans down, pulling the zipper too in the process. You keep using your mouth, now to get rid of his boxers, where the outline is tight over his cock. Eddie finds himself so aroused to the point he feels hot, even if there's a storm outside and the candle barely provides warmth.

"You sure have a mouth" he mumbles in ecstasy, drunk in the sight of your glimmering lips, coated in saliva. He's dripping too: everywhere.

His cock bounces out, almost hitting you in the face.

"Look at you" you coo, "already dripping for me. What a pretty cock you've got, Mr. Brock"

Fuck, he's going to hell after this. But you can't corrupt what's already corrupted.

"Then you better show me what you mean"

You lick the tip, already leaking with precum. He tenses momentarily, and then stiffle a moan when you take his balls into your mouth, a similar sound coming from you. You suck lightly at them, running your tongue along the sensitive skin.

His hips buckle into your face, and you have to chuckle at the fact it's probably the first time he's ever has his dick sucked this good.

"Don't stop" he huffs.

You obey, tongue tracing along the underside of his cock until you're back at his tip. Eddie's still inside his drunk haze when he feels you taking all of him inside your mouth in one single movement.

"Fuck-!" he chokes out, the thunder outside shutting the vulgar sounds coming out of his plush lips. "Think you can take more?"

His large hand touches the back of your head and pushes it forward with force. His cock presses deeper into your throat, tip hitting the back of it. You feel yourself gag, but the wet spot that's starting to form in your panties says otherwise.

He twists your hair tightly, holding you in place as he fucks your throat with his cock. You feel tears, and Eddie thinks he's never had a prettier sight than you: glossy eyes, looking up to him as you take all his cock.

"I know you can, baby" he presses, "help me like you said you would, yeah?"

His fat cock is blocking your air supply, but the subtle motivation and praise in his eyes is enough to keep you going, thought your throat ends up bulging from the size of his cock, stretching out to accommodate his size.

You said you would help, right? And even if you always do it for the altruist reward, something about being used in such a vulgar and rough way has your chest and panties feeling warm.

Brock groans, body sweating and muscles tense. He yanks you up by your hair, chasing the orgasm like an animal, every movement feeling almost primal.

"Stay there" he feels it coming, "don't move".

You gurgle something, spit rushing down your chin and dripping onto your chest.

"It's almost over, sweetheart" his eyes roll back, head resting on the coach he'd barely used until now, where he's fucking you in the mouth, "I knew that filthy mouth of yours could take me"

You open your mouth wider, anticipating. Tension releases: and he's pounding out his orgasm in your throat, hips banging into your face. You swallow it all, even if you can't taste it since he was so deep in you. He pulls out, a string of spit connecting his tip with your lips.

"Thanks" his voice comes out rough, "you do know how to help those in need"

You wipe your chin with your hand, voice hoarse, "I suppose"

There's some silence afterwards, and now Eddie is cursing he doesn't know what else to say.

"Power is still out" he speaks, "we've got some hours left until the sun rises again"

"So what's your idea?" you giggle, "tell scary stories in the dark?"

You both laugh, but you stop and deadpan. "Please don't, I get scared very easily" and you pout those pretty lips of yours out. How can you be such an adorable but greedy girl? It's hard to believe you're the same person.

"Not that" he swallows thickly. Why is he doing this? Was a blowjob (a fantastic blowjob, by the way) by a young insatiable thing like you enough to make him go mad? "I want to help you too".

Before you protest, he's pulling you and sealing your lips with a hot kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth, playing with it. He pulls out, biting your lower lip.

"Eddie" you whine, "b-bed, now"

He's supposed to be older and smarter, so why is his resolve melting away this quickly? Following your orders immediately, your back bouncing on the soft mattress of his bed. As soon as you lay, his lips trail kisses down your throat.

"God, you smell so good" you giggle, "bet this pussy will taste as sweet, huh?"

His cold fingertips grace the fabric of your tiny shorts and the touch gives you goosebumps, "look at you" he tugs your panties, nudging at your cunt. "So soaked... is this for me, baby?"

"Yes, Eddie" the way you say his name is enough to make even the strongest man fold, his dick jolting in response. "Take it"

Both of you remove your clothes in such a hurry, you hope you haven't damaged your favorite pair of pajamas.

"Let me see her" he demands, so you spread your legs, revealing your dripping pussy.

When you kiss again, the underlying carnal desire is mutual, saliva connecting in a silver thread as you both gasp for aire. Your hands wander across his chest, fingers playing with his tensing muscles.

"I promise to reward her, okay?" he lines his cock up with your entrance, the fat tip nudging against you, sticky with precum.

You're desperate with anticipation, practically begging, "please do".

He pushes inside you fully, balls slaping against your sticky clit hard. He’s so deep, pushing against your cervix and stretching you out with each thrust, making even the task of breathing painful and laborious.

Brock feels like he's ruined you, yet you look rather content. You've been used to giving; your kindness of a caretaker nature. You're used to giving your all and not receiving, so with every new thrust against you, his hips slamming, you know you'll never feel this pleasure again with anyone else, the delicious sense hitting you in waves that make you feel dizzy. So, in a way, he has ruined you.

"That desperate for me to fill you?" there's no answer, but the sound of rain and skin clapping against skin.

"Yes, give it to me” you sob, "Eddie, please!"

"Focus on taking it" he guides you. It may make him a pervert, but he isn't changing the sheets any time soon; they'll be covered in you and he'll smell them everytime he gets inside them. "I'm gonna cum"

You moan, lightly tugging at the strands of damp hazel hair. He chokes out a husky groan, heat pooling on his stomach.

Eddie's dick twitches inside you, cum filling your eager insides with the biggest load you’ve ever felt. Your pussy clenches, spasming, wrapping tighter around his length in a needy way, your high coming almost at the same time.

Both your breathes come out in ragged pants. He nuzzles against your neck, skins equally damped.

"Fuck"

As soon as those words leave his mouth, the power returns. You should go now, as this is the reason you stayed, but none of you make the move to leave.

"Stay?" he pleads, "It's still raining outside"

How can you say no to those brown puppy eyes? Does he think he can fuck you this good and then make you leave?

"Alright" you swear he smiles, and it's the prettiest smile you've seen in your life. Could you fall this easily in love? "But turn off the lights: I have work tomorrow and need some sleep"

"Whatever you say, baby" he nips at your lower lip, "you know I love to help"

#dilfistwrites #eddie brock #eddie brock x reader #eddie brock x you #eddie brock fanart #eddie brock imagine #eddie brock smut #eddie brock fanfic #venom #venom movie #venom symbiote #venom smut #venom spoilers #venom 3 #venom the last dance #marvel #marvel smut

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imsofreakingtired · 7 days ago

Text

Sevika x mascfem!reader headcanons 💙

(haven't seen anything like this on tumblr before so i needed to be the change i wished to see in the world 😔)

artist is @/heehawweewaa on twitter

~~~

spotting her at the gym only to get distracted by her thighs

(and she in turn getting distracted by your abs)

thrifting together, she has a hawk eye for exactly the type of oversized band t shirts you like

her being confused as hell by your skincare products (she uses a 3-in-1 but her skin is fucking flawless)

"why is this shampoo in a petri dish" "sevika my love. those are moisture pads"

her making fun of how short you are but following you around in bookstores in case there's a book on a top shelf you want

you making fun of the way she always hits her head on low hanging stuff (you kiss it better after)

listening to her nerd out over some car mechanic thing (you dont know what the fuck the difference is between a straight and inline engine cylinder but at this point you're too afraid to ask)

her listening to you rant about the gay subtext of the classic novel you're reading (she tried to read it but got bored by the monologues of "a pathetic straight white man")

begging her to try on one of your baseball caps with some shit like "MILF" printed on the front (acts like she's annoyed but you saw her smirking at herself in the mirror) (baby knows she's finee)

walking in the park together and she swings you on her arm like a baby monkey

the foyer is just a mess of doc martens and converse (yours) and her timberlands boots

sevika gay panicking over you on the days you decide to put on lip gloss

"do we have to go out? with you looking like that?" "i know sevi, try to control yourself"

and then you absolutely losing it on the days she wears a tux

"call me a bond girl the way i-" "no."

watching gay shows like Killing Eve and yelling at the tv together like dads during a football game

(neither of you know how the show ends because you started making out in the middle of it and one thing leads to another and,,,)

sevika running her fingers through your long hair after a shower (she says it relaxes her)

you tousling her short hair like she's a puppy (you are the only person she allows to do this)

beer cans and monster energy drinks in the fridge

she can cook like a 3 star michelin chef, you can make successful fried eggs on a good day

"baby, just sit down and let me do it" "i swear i didn't burn it last time!"

sevika picking you up and tossing you over her shoulder to carry you to bed when you're exhausted from working late

"i need to finish this in three days-" "will you finish it? because it looks like it's finishing you"

sevika losing a bet and having to let you put eyeliner on her (jokes on you, the second you see her in eyeliner you're a gay puddle on the floor)

(wheezing) "babe get up" "HGNNNGGGHH NOOOO what have i DONE" (still dying from laughter) "whats wrong with you" "you're too hOTTTTTT!!!!!!"

you being sevika's impulse control on her endless woodworking ambitions

"you are not building a raft in our living room!" "you say that now, but what if there's a flood and we could be the only ones safely out while everyone else is waiting to be evacuated."

sevika wearing your hoodies and you taking pictures because it's fucking adorable how small they look on her

watching something sad and comforting her when you hear her sniffling (she swore she never cries at movies)

cackling together outside the supermarket after the cashier lady calls sevika your husband

she keeps getting cuts on her hand that she doesn't feel and never remembers how she got them but she likes how you fuss over her and bandage her fingers

she is endlessly confused by your jorts

"why can't it be jeans or shorts?? like pick one" "yk you like how i look in them mama" "..."

also is confused by why you Need to wear Only Flannels during the first week of October but she's supportive <3

grumbles that she misses your hair after you get a wolf cut but then you catch her staring at you when she thinks you're not looking with the softest most lovesick puppy dog look on her face

sevika making rings and necklaces for you out of scrap metal but she hates making a big deal out of giving gifts so she just leaves them at random places where she knows you'll see them

you ask her about them ("sevi did you make this??") and she'll quickly be like "no idk where the hell that came from" and then not a minute later she'll be like "...do you like it?"

yea......sevika x mascfem reader.....

#here have this monstrosity of hcs while i work on your asks <3 #maybe the most self indulgent thing ive ever written idk #sevika #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #sevika headcanon #sevika imagine #sevika x female reader #masc femme

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moonstruckme · 7 months ago

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Hi I love your fics so much first of all!!! You’re literally carrying my tumblr reading rn!! Also I was wondering if you would be comfortable with writing a smut request? I love what you’ve written with the poly!marauders boys and I’d love to see more smut with their dynamic. Totally fine if you’re not comfortable but I bet it would be amazing!!

Hi gorgeous thanks for being so so patient with me, I intended to come up with something for this sooner but writing sex with 4 people is one of my biggest challenges with this account haha. Hope it's okay and you like it!

cw: smut mdni

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 602 words

“Hey,” Sirius laughs, hands smoothing along the outsides of your thighs. “Take it easy, sweetness.”

“Sorry.” You try to steady your breathing and, ideally, your shaking along with it. Sirius begins kissing his way up your leg, spit cooling from just under your knee upwards. You yelp when he gives the inside of your thigh a love bite.

“Fuck,” Remus hisses when your grip tightens on his cock.

“Sorry, sorry,” you say, head tipping back against the pillows.

Sirius slips a finger inside your underwear, and you squirm, a humiliatingly pleady sound rising in your throat.

“Aw, baby,” he croons. “You’re feeling pretty ready for us, huh?”

You’re not going to dignify that with a response.

“Anything to report?” James asks jokingly. Remus groans as he pulls out of him before thrusting back in.

Sirius lets the material of your underwear snap back into place, covering your mound with his palm and rubbing consolingly. “Soaked,” he says simply. “But I think she could still use a bit of warming up. Don’t you, gorgeous?”

“No,” you say, half desperate as he presses a chaste kiss to the cloth covering your cunt. It’s an effort to keep your hand moving on Remus’ cock. “No, I think I’m all warmed up.”

“I don’t think so,” Sirius tuts sympathetically, mouthing his way over to your hip. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you there.”

It’s all you can do to keep from crying as he turns you over slowly, kissing the backs of your thighs and lingering at the crease under your ass. They’ve been playing this game with you on and off all day, starting with a particularly salacious kiss from Remus in the kitchen this morning and culminating now, after you’ve attempted to proposition your boyfriends and they’ve rewarded you with foreplay so prolonged it borders on torture while they get each other off.

Sirius’ touches have you panting and gasping, entirely unlike the soft, beggy sounds James likes to work out of you (and, in fairness, you out of him as well). His grip is harsh and kisses searing, ever closer to your cunt but stopping just short of it. Before long he has to pin you down by your thighs, and you can feel his devilish smile against your skin as he kisses the dimple in your back, ignoring the way you squirm underneath him.

Remus makes a soft sound when your grip on him loosens. He reaches for your hand, rubbing your wrist sympathetically.

“It’s okay, dovey,” he says, amusement lilting in his tone. “You don’t have to.”

You let your hand fall to the bed. It bunches in the duvet. “Sorry.” Your voice comes out breathless and teary, bordering on a whine.

He coos, his own voice somewhat strained as he leans over to kiss you sweetly. “S’alright. You’ve got enough to worry about, yeah?”

“Remus.” Tears prick your eyes, and you use them to your advantage, looking up at him beseechingly. “Please.”

“Please what, doll?” There’s a wet suctioning sound as Sirius lifts his lips from your skin. You close your eyes. Swear to god, if you have a hickey on your back tomorrow… “Am I doing something you don’t like?”

Remus starts to laugh, cut off halfway through by his own cursing as James picks up his pace behind him. He drops down for another kiss, hot and fast, not quite as sweet but no less savored.

“In a minute,” he promises you, voice growing taut. “I’ll help you out in just a minute, dove.”

Sirius chuckles darkly. He intends to make the most of the time he has left.

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babygirlhouse · 10 months ago

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house md 2024 headcanons 🫡

hi loves!! jumping on this trend :^) i don't think any of these make sense but they made me laugh soooo here u go

House has a very bad pain day and (when pushed) says that he strained the muscle while riding his bike. Obviously nobody believes him, so the ducklings + Wilson spend the day trying to figure out what he did and end up finding security footage of him attempting to hit the griddy in the morgue

Kutner has a very generic inspirational quotes tumblr blog (he’s so proud of it) and House finds it and just starts dropping quotes from it in DDXs to mess with him & then acting all innocent

Thirteen has a secret thirst trap tiktok acc that doesn’t explicitly show her face but has her lab coat & maybe stethoscope. When Chase suggests that it’s her she doesn’t confirm or deny it and just keeps winking. Cameron definitely follows the account after this. Thirteen pretends not to realise.

Wilson takes a uquiz to find out what sort of cheese he is and is devastated when it says he’s cheddar. He then has an identity crisis because he thinks he’s too bland and tries to reinvent his aesthetic, leading to one infected eyebrow piercing and a tramp stamp that’s never mentioned again. Potential there for a sappy scene where House tells him he's anything but bland.

Cuddy starts a momblog style podcast. House sends anonymous hate. Taub guest stars.

I think Taub would get deeply into ASMR. Like it’d start with him finding and playing a video of ASMR triggers for his daughters, then he tries it himself to see if that calms them down even more, etc etc. He starts a youtube channel and it blows up. He gets recognised by patients at the hospital. It goes to his head just a little. He unironically uses the term 'ASMRtist'

A cosplayer has a mysterious illness and the team has to go to a convention to test for environmental factors. Chase is apprehensive but House forces him to go. He’s quickly recognised at the convention and it turns out that he has a cosplay instagram account and they get stopped every 10 mins to take pictures. No one lets him live it down

Thirteen and Cameron kiss & fall in love & babysit Taub's kids. House makes relentless jokes but is quietly very fond of them and their relationship. Pls i need this

Foreman has a twitter/X account where he posts a combination of work out tips/inspirational quotes (not as sweet as Kutner's blog, more grindset vibes yknow) but he gets mixed up in a pyramid scheme for protein powders and gets cancelled. Also potential for a sappy scene here where Foreman says he admires Kutner for not letting House's teasing about his blog get to him. They're besties now and make each other better.

Cuddy forces all of them to go on a wellness retreat. House and Wilson make a bet to see who can go the longest without speaking. It's not even a silent retreat, they're just like that. Also someone convinces Chase that the utility shed on the retreat is haunted.

The wellness retreat no speaking bet also def has potential for gay chicken. Like Wilson kisses House to see if that will get him to lose the bet. By the next morning neither of them know or care who lost the bet, they leave their room looking Extremely disheveled and return to the hospital very much together. Cuddy is not at all surprised. She planned this. Each of the ducklings hand her $100.

PPTH minecraft server. yeah

#im so tired #i have an assessment due in 6 days #time to speed read all of inferno #house md #gregory house #headcanon #hatecrimes md #house md headcanons #hilson #mouse bites #james wilson

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hooneeyydroops · 26 days ago

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Don’t you worry about your curly hair <3

Fred G. Weasley x reader

My first post ever here on Tumblr! Sorry in advance for any spelling/grammar mistakes, english is only my second language :’)

Paring: Bsf!Fred Weasley x natural curly/wavy haired!Reader

Notes: Just Fluff. Reader is in gryffindor but you can choose the year! Also, reader and Fred are best friends who have huge crushes on each other lol. Oh and reader is insecure about her hair but Fred makes her feel better.

Summary: Hermione helped you style your natural hair. It was the first time you showed off your natural hair in Hogwarts, especially to Fred.

Word count: 1.5k

Enjoy!

“My hair is so poofy again!” you complained, as you were walking to class with your friend Hermione.

It was the month of November so it was only natural that your hair was becoming this poofy; humidity levels were extremely high in winter at Hogwarts.

“I just don’t know what to do, I can’t straighten them everyday, I don’t want to burn it!” you say, pushing your thick, coarse hair behind your ears. The only good thing was that they kept you very warm during the colder weather (but it was hell during the summer).

“Maybe you should try to stop straightening them” Hermione replied. “I know curly hair is a lot of work but it’s so worth it. Plus you can’t always keep on tying them up like you do during summer”.

You knew her hair was curly just like yours, although she was too lazy to always keep them in place, sometimes leaving them air drying or diffusing without any kind of styling done. Yet it still suited her perfectly in one way or another.

“Maybe you’re right” you say, smiling at her “Why don’t you come with me to the dorm this afternoon? I could use some help from you to do my hair” you continued, as you girls had almost reached the classroom. “Sure thing!” she replied, smiling and excited about your proposal as you two entered the classroom for your charms lesson.

You and Hermione were now in your dorm’s bathroom as you were thoroughly and vigorously washing your hair. She was sitting on the toilet as you guys chatted and laughed together.

“Okay so now that I’m done with the clarifying shampoo I have to put this hair mask on my lenghts?” you asked her as you were kneeled down near the bathtub.

“Yes, just put a generous amount on it and leave it on for five minutes” she replied, looking at you as you put a generous amount of that divine-smelling hair mask she lent you on your hair. You then put them up with a claw clip standing up from that uncomfortable position that you had kept through the whole shampoo step.

“Ow, my back!” You said in pain.

Hermione laughed. “I bet the one that will absolutely adore the most your new look is definitely going to be Fred!” She said with a teasing tone as a faint blush crept on your cheeks.

“S-sure…I’m quite nervous to be honest; He’s never seen me with my natural hair, not even once. I only wear them back at home” you replied, worrying about what he’ll say. “Aw c’mon y/n, he’s definitely going to love it. He literally loves everything about you!” she says, trying to uplift your mood a bit.

You rinsed the mask off, as you girls went on with the styling. You brushed your hair then you made sure they were soaking wet as you put on your curl cream, gel and mousse, scrunching your hair with your hands and a towel.

“Looks amazing already” Hermione said in awe, watching your hair “I’ll help you diffuse them”.

Hermione was finally done diffusing your hair. “Now here, give me your hand” she says.

You do as she told and found yourself with some drops of hair oil on your hand.

“Massage it through your hands and slide them through your hair. You can also scrunch a bit”.

You do so.

Then you lifted your head up.

You couldn’t belive your eyes.

Your hair came out so good. Your locks were almost all frizz-free and they framed your face perfectly.

“No way, you look so good with your natural hair! They suit you way more if I have to say!” Hermione said excited as she was looking at you two through the mirror where you were staring at your reflection.

Yet you couldn’t help but think about what Fred’s reaction would be. Sure you looked great, but will he like your new look? What if he thought curly hair were hideous or messy?

Hermione noticed your worried expression. “He’ll love them, I’m sure” she says, a small smile forming on your lips.

“Thanks Hermione”.

“Now come one, put your robe back on, it’s almost dinner time!” she said, helping you out. You watched yourself through the mirror one last time before exiting the dorm, heading towards the great hall were dinner was waiting you two.

You guys entered the great hall taking place near Ron and Harry who had already started eating. You two greeted them but you soon noticed Harry and Ron staring at you. You give them a puzzled look which earned a quick answer from them.

“We’ve just never seen you with your hair like that” Ron started “yeah, they look great” Harry continued. You thanked them as the conversation topic switched to that dreaded potion’s essay you guys had to hand in in three days.

But you just couldn’t focus on the conversation, eyes searching for that tall, ginger prankster who had stolen your heart and that for some reason hasn’t arrived yet.

“You okay y/n?” Harry asked.

“Y-yeah sure” you replied, trying to keep your focus on the conversation.

“Yeah she’s just thinking about her red haired prince charming” Hermione chimed in with a small smirk on her lips. You felt your blood rush to your cheeks as you stayed silent, rolling your eyes.

The ginger twins entered the great hall, sitting down next to you so quickly that you hadn’t even realised they arrived.

Hi guys-“ George said, lips slightly parted and eyes widened as you turned around. “WOAH Y/N, YOUR HAIR” he said, catching Fred’s attention who looked at you with wide eyes and a small blush on his cheeks “I-is there something wrong with it?” You muttered worryingly. “No no no, it’s actually amazing, we just never saw you like this, right Fred?” He said, eyeing his twin with a smirk as the guy was still staring, lost in his thoughts. “Uhh yeah yeah, he’s right” he said quickly, shaking his head “you look beautiful like this, you know?” he said with a smirk as you felt your cheeks redden. Everybody looked at you two, eyes rolling jokingly as they were all thinking about when you’ll both confess your feelings to each other.

The conversation topic switched again from your hair to this mad prank the twins were pulling on Snape before coming to dinner.

You were now focused, lively as always, although you felt Fred’s eyes glued on you the whole time as you ate dinner and talked with your friends.

Dinner ended and, as you guys were all walking to the gryffindor common room, you felt an arm wrapping around your neck. You looked up, seeing Fred’s face smirking at you again as you looked away.

“So, new look uh?” He said. You guys were now walking behind the others.

“Yeah. It is too humid to use a straightener, my hair becomes poofy five minutes after straightening them” you started “so today Hermione helped me with styling them following their natural pattern” you say as you looked up again just to see that Fred’s eyes had widened “so these are your natural hair?” he asked.

You felt worry wash over you.

“Y-yeah…these are my natural hair.” you say, looking forward.

“Woah” he muttered “but why have I never seen them? I mean, you look bloody gorgeous with your hair like this, why won’t you wear them natural more often?” He asked, his cheeks slightly red as he looked at you with his signature smirk, although his eyes were softer now.

“It’s easier to wear it straightened sometimes” you replied, looking at him “plus, I think curly hair makes me look so messy. They just don’t suit me like they suit Hermione.” You said as your expression saddened. You felt Fred’s arm squeezing you making the butterflies in your stomach swarm like crazy. Since your crush started you couldn’t help but feel your cheeks getting warmer or butterflies in your stomach at every little touch. Even if it was accidental.

“I don’t think they make you look messy. They suit you so much” he said, twirling a curl around one of his fingers, focusing on his own motions “you know, I’ve always loved curly hair” he said, his gaze back on your face “I’ve always found them beautiful, especially on gorgeous girls like you~” he said, winking, his smirk back on his face. “Oh shut up!” You said in between giggles as you felt your cheeks redden as he squeezed you more.

“Never, sunshine~” he says with a playful tone, giving a small peck to your already warm cheek.

You thought he had definitely noticed that your whole face was now on fire, as he started laughing hard while his arm was still around your neck, his hand touching your soft, beautiful curls.

You now knew you had noting to worry about them.

#weasley twins #harry potter #hermione granger #ron weasley #george weasley #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasely x y/n #fred wealsey fic #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #gryffindor

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leonkennedybreedingkink · 7 months ago

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PRETTY WHEN YOU CRY

bestie!leon kennedy x reader

warnings: 18+, dubcon lol, mental health issues for both leon and reader… he’s a pervert and again ooc but that’s the fun of things. dacryphillia and he’s a little mean and sleazy.

tumblr removes fics with nsfw tags from the tag. ergo i’ve flagged the content at the beginning. you’re also responsible for your own media consumption, so if this bugs you, don’t read it.

Leon sat there on the edge of the bed with you, rubbing your back as you hid your face in your hands. “I just feel like I’m going in circles.” You tell him, lifting your head out of your hands to rest your chin on them. “I mean, I don’t feel like I’m ever gonna get better.”

He can sympathize, he really can, especially when he was in boot camp post Raccoon City and laid awake at night because he had nightmares otherwise.

He rubs your back in circles on autopilot, trying not to get bored or indulge in an impulsive thought that tells you to shut the fuck up and quit fucking crying, maybe open your blinds once or twice a day and you wouldn’t feel so bad. Eat a fucking vegetable or two while you’re at it.

You, believing the best in him, don’t really notice. “I just—“ and your voice breaks, face warming all the way to your neck as you hide your face in your hands again and kick yourself internally for crying in front of him.

You hate crying in front of everyone, your face gets splotchy and you can’t breathe through your nose. When it’s Leon, though, your best friend, it’s a little worse because you’d bet he looks cute when he cries, him and his stupid Botticelli angel face.

And, oh, that’s not really the right move.

He doesn’t remember when watching someone cry would be enough to get him off, except for an adult video he watched had a girl get fucked so good he could watch tears leak out of her eyes, openly sobbing when she squirted because that faceless phallus hit the right spot inside her.

Or when his ex-girlfriend was on her fourth orgasm of the night and she cried just a little while his face was between her legs.

He needed a stress reliever that day, it was a tough time; and he’s never really had to think while going down on someone.

Leon shifts a little and prays to a God he doesn’t believe in that he’s not seriously getting bricked up by you crying. Nope, it’s not going down, shit, he hopes you don’t notice.

You stifle sobs into your palms for a good thirty minutes, face and ears hot enough to power a fucking house. You take a break to wipe your eyes with your sleeve, sniffling wetly before you reach over to blow your nose. “‘M sorry,” You tell him, voice wobbling before you blow your nose and toss the used tissue away.

“It’s fine.” Leon tells you, his voice just a little strained. He wraps an arm around you and pulls you into his lap and prays you don’t notice that he’s bricked up just from you crying. God, Leon, that’s so fucked up. At least those girls—nameless pornstar and ex-girlfriend—were enjoying it, you’re crying because you’re sad and mentally ill.

Again, fucked up.

You cry a little harder when he’s being so kind to comfort you, hiding your face in his shoulder as you sniffle and keep the sobbing to a minimum. When your tears come to an end, that’s when you notice that he’s fully hard beneath you. You lift your head up after a pause, wiping one eye as you look at Leon. “Leon… are you…?”

He can’t quite hide a grimace. “I’m—um, I’m really—I’m not—“ And when he catches sight of your red face and tear-streaked cheeks, he nearly groans, his throat suddenly dry. That’s when he flips you onto your back.

You land in the pillows with a soft grunt, giving him a bewildered look. “What are you doing?” You ask him in a little voice, sniffling and wiping your runny nose.

“Do you ever stop feeling sorry for yourself?” He asks you, one hand planting in the pillow beside your head, the other untucking his shirt.

Your stomach turns and he can visibly see his words hit the mark. “What?” You ask him, eyes close to brimming with tears again.

“Jesus,” Leon swears, undoing his belt buckle one handed cause he’s had enough practice. “You wanna know what I think? I think you like wallowing, I think you like having people consoling you.” His belt comes undone with a rattle, his button and fly next.

You stare at him with your mouth agape before a couple tears slip out. He takes the chance to push up your shirt and lets out a groan when he sees the cute black bra you’re wearing, hands wandering up to squeeze handfuls of your tits.

You yelp, back arching of your own accord—he’s glad that worked, you told him enough of what you liked when venting about your ex-boyfriends not being able to find the clit or eat pussy right.

He’s never had that problem, obviously.

A slightly mean smile crawls across his face before he leans down to lick a tear track up. “Poor, unloved little thing.” He coos, sticking his hands down the front of your sweatpants to find you damp.

Leon rubs circles on your clit to see you grind your teeth and twitch, one of his hands still on your tit as you try not to react further. “You just sit here in your depression cave and feel bad for yourself, huh? Do you even open up your curtains to get some sun? The sun’s real nice, a natural antidote to depression.”

Humiliation and an orgasm lick up your spine a few seconds after he’s done talking, body locking up as your hands fist in the sheets. He tuts at you and sticks his used finger in your mouth, kneeling between your spread legs as he pulls down your sweatpants with the other hand.

Aw, you left a cute little wet spot on your panties, just for him.

You lift up your hips when he tells you to, he throws the flimsy garments on the floor where they land with a soft slap. “C’mon, I know how make you feel better.” He tells you, one hand cupping your knee to put one over his shoulder as he finally pulls down his jeans and boxers to mid-thigh.

Leon sinks in with a stifled groan, then wraps your other leg around his waist, turning his head and kissing your knee once he’s balls-deep.

Your chest heaves and he kisses your collarbone—poor thing, it must be a little much for you, he’s not even moving.

You scrabble at him when he finally does move, nails catching on his shirt before you manage to tug him closer. Each short, staccato thrust makes the bed rock and punches little squeaks from you.

Your door’s open, but he doesn’t feel like closing it, so he puts a hand over your mouth as he covers your body with his, hips grinding to hear you whimper against his palm. “I know, I know, baby.” he tells you, lips ghosting over your cheek before he licks up more salty tears that overflow. “I’ve got you. You’re all empty inside, I’ll fill you up.”

But not before you come, Leon’s a gentleman like that. He loops his arm beneath you and pulls you into his thrusts, you grow a little louder beneath his palm. He shifts so his pubic bone can grind a little harder against your clit and your thigh twitches before you sob against his palm, brows furrowing as you lurch up, more tears squeezing out.

He fucks you through it before pulling out and painting your tummy white, collapsing by your side and panting softly. You sniffle loudly and Leon feels a little bad, rolling over when you do and spooning you from behind, his release staining your sheets as you cry quietly.

He holds you through it, kissing your shoulder and the nape of your neck before hiding his face in your hair. “I’m sorry.” He mumbles after a long silence, “I was out of line.”

You shake your head and stay silent, wiping your eyes as you two cuddle in silence.

#mine #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil

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mqrrstarr · 2 months ago

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Gladiator Headcanons! (1/?)

How the Characters would act if you: Had A Cold!

Character x GN! Reader

Warnings: s3x implied

Characters Featured: Maximus, Lucilla, Commodus, Acacius, Caracalla, Geta, Lucius, Macrinus (edited: I never actually wrote anything for him but I did now)

A/N: First Tumblr post in a while, and I'm actually writing things too! This is the first time I've written elaborate headcanons, so please forgive if they seem a little off. I apologize for any historical/character innacuracies, and I hope to get better!! xoxo -mqrrstarr

Summary: headcanons!!

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Maximus would immediately notice something is off. You kept complaining about a headache that didn’t seem to stop, and your temperature was high.

“Darling, I don’t think you should fight today…”

You could only cough in response, and the guards wouldn’t let you rest. As the day’s challenge was fighting in pairs, he rapidly volunteered to fight with you. Maximus protected you from the other gladiators, and killed them as fast as you could sneeze. By the end of the day, Maximus gave you his blanket and other amenities, ushering you to a more comfier cell. (He had placed a bet with another gladiator.)

“There darling, rest up nice and easy.”

I can also see Maximus getting the other gladiators to create a soup/stew sort of mixture. Not good. But he’s very fatherly, if you can get that?

- - - - - - - -

Lucilla knows everything. After taking care of Lucius as a child, she can rapidly tell when you’re not feeling well.

“Sweetie? Do you feel alright?”

She’d do the mom thing, put her hand on your forehead and try to figure out what was wrong with you. Your head was practically boiling, so she’d get her servants to make tea, lay you in her triclinium and keep you company.

“The servants will prove useful sweetie. You’re a strong warrior, so keep hanging on.”

She’d hum a lullaby, read poetry (the same she’d read to Lucius) and tell stories until you fell asleep.

- - - - - - - -

Commodus was rarely comforted growing up, so he knew how to handle sickness easily. Growing up semi-independent, he knew homemade tricks and tips to feel better.

“Y/N, are you not feeling well? Just get some herbs and drink an elixir. You’ll be fine.”

He realizes that he sounds a bit harsh, and reminds himself that he never wants to treat you how he was treated; with solitude and no gratitude. Commodus gets you all the snacks and food you want, and even hugs you for as long as you want.

When you question him after it’s been a whole afternoon of him on your chest, he simply says,

“Y/N, do not question the Emperor. I wish to lay with you, and I do not fear sickness. The Gods can protect one of their own.”

He keeps hugging you and falls asleep, and the next day you’re both coughing and sneezing.

- - - - - - - -

Acacius has been through so many battles and massacres, yet he’s never truly encountered a cold. The soldiers that cough, are usually dead. Coughing up their own blood, that is. He really doesn’t know how to help you properly, but he’ll try his best.

“Angel, can you tell me what’s wrong? I’m not really sure what to do. Should I get a doctor? Are you feeling a certain way?”

and as he says this, Acacius would use his hands to caress yours, and treat you even more like a princess/prince. He’d lay you in his own bed, and give you massages until you’d feel better. He’d also do a little more if you’d want. Iykyk. You’d fall asleep quickly, and you’d wake up to Acacius either next to you, or on a chair by the bedside and he’d be all sprawled out. His soldier senses would wake him up though.

“Angel? Angel? You’re all right now, that’s wonderful. My lovely Venus, you’re all healed.”

And his words, he would seal with a forehead kiss. GOD HE’S SUCH A SWEETHEART I NEED PEDRO PASCAL

- - - - - - - -

Caracalla had his own sickness, the one of syphilis. His wild mentality usually was what kept him going, and the love of ruling over Rome. Yet the Emperor cared for his significant other, and refused to let anyone else; even his closest servants touch you.

“My Wife/Husband, the most holiest of them all, I shall take care of you. Please tell me what your most vivid desires are? Allow me to assist you.”

He’s such a sweetheart, and he’d definitely tell you so many stories of him and Geta in their childhood, Roman mythology, and anything to keep you entertained. As he also has mommy and daddy issues, he also do a Commodus-esque move and lay on your chest and probably fall asleep first haha. When the both of you awake, he'd hear your stomach rumble.

“You’re hungry? Well then I shall feed you. Anything for you my love.”

He’d keep you filled with food and him to help your weak state. (CARACALLA COME HOME THE KIDS AND I MISS YOU)

- - - - - - - -

Geta was always stressed. Getting much more to do as Emperor, as Caracalla had his own “duties” to fulfill. When you started coughing and sneezing as you strolled in the palace garden, he’d send the servants away to prepare a room where you could quarantine. As much as he loved you, he’d refuse to get sick. (Rome needs a healthy representation.) So you’d be alone the first few days with the occasional knock on the door. When you seemed less sick than before, he’d spend all the time with you.

“My love? I’m here for you. The Gods have finally allotted time for our get together. It will be only the finest in Rome for the night; us.”

He’d definitely turn the situation into a fun (fucking) night and then the days after that would be a cycle of laying together, fine dining meals, and caressing. (your bodies, of course.) When he has to return to his Emperor duties, he’ll leave with a long romantic and passionate kiss, one that made your entire body warm.

“Won’t be long. I’ll be back in the night.”

(if you couldn't tell i love the idea of geta as needy all the time)

- - - - - - - -

Lucius knew what it was like to feel sick and tired constantly, so he took care of you. Like a shepherd tending to his favorite sheep. Both of you grand warriors and gladiators, so there was no time to feel bad. He reassured you he could fight without you, and vowed to come back every time.

“Dearest, I promise to return safely. I couldn’t leave my soul with you, it has to be me truly here always. I vow on our love to fight for freedom and the peace of Rome. I will also fight for you.”

You trusted Lucius, (WHO WOULDN’T WITH THOSE BLUE EYES) and he is a man of his word. Day after day, you slowly healed and was able to rejoin Lucius and the others again.

“See? I knew you’d heal. The Gods give power to those who are great. And you are great.”

You fought as usual, but he’d still protect you a little more to ensure you were actually okay.

- - - - - - - -

Macrinus would see you and get together some gladiators in your presence, hoping they would entertain you and help you ignore the pain.

“Sickness is nothing but temporary Y/N. You can and have the power to move on.”

You’d take his advice and eventually keep doing your work as his assistant, and he’d make sure you were well taken care of.

“Y/N? A true warrior does not dawdle. Good job keeping up with your tasks.”

Surprisingly, you were able to keep up with work and healed faster than expected. (THERE I WROTE FOR MACRINUS)

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