#and scared of everything. month will go by quick right i can handle it right

[novvabee]

We're Just Glad You're Ok

summary: poly!marauders x reader, you have a sleep potion mishap

cw: sleep potion malfunction, passing out, health scare?, hospital, swearing a few times, i guess you can call some of it angst?

word count: 2.2k

You only had twelve hours left until this stupid potion needed to be ready in order to show Slughorn. 

This potion had taken you over a month to complete, and here you were, down to the wire, rushing to make sure everything was absolutely perfect. You wanted the highest grade possible, and if you were being honest, thought that was what you deserved. 

You didn’t even want to take advanced potion making, but in order to keep your prefect title, you had to be enrolled in at least three advanced classes, so you endured the tortuous stirring, grinding, and burning. 

And this potion was your crowning achievement of this semester. You had spent countless nights brewing and stewing, not to mention the three failed attempts already.

You were attempting to brew a sleeping draught that would take only one drop to put anyone to sleep in under five minutes. It was practically unheard of, most sleep potions were an entire vial that would start to take effect somewhere between thirty minutes to an hour to set in, but you wanted to prove it could be done quicker and with less potion. 

There were a few tricky ingredients that needed to be tweaked between all of your attempts, but you were certain that you had gotten it right this time.

You just wanted to be done with this, to get this project completed and wrap yourself in bed along with your boyfriends who you had been slightly neglecting due to this potion. It was taking up all of your time and you felt like you hadn’t seen Remus, James, or Sirius in ages. Once this project was turned in, you were more than happy to spend a few days doing absolutely nothing with your boys.

In your tired and overworked state, you must have forgotten to turn the burner down or maybe you added a drop too much of the chamomile extract, but before you could react, your potion exploded.

The liquid got everywhere, drenching your notes, your clothes, your hair, thankfully it smelled heavenly, but you froze.

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath to yourself. Shit indeed. This wasn’t good. A singular drop of this was supposed to put any human to sleep, and you just drenched yourself in the concoction. 

You knew that you needed to move fast. You had very little time before the potions fumes knocked you out, in fact, you could already feel the effects of the sleep draught taking hold. You shook your head and tried your best to power through. You knew that it was late, probably past midnight, which meant that no students would be roaming the halls, no one to see you if you passed out on the cold dungeon floors.

You frantically grabbed your sopping notebook and shoved it in your bag. You turned the burner off, not bothering to clean up or put any of the ingredients away. Slughorn could deal with it, you’d just explain to him what happened and why you rushed out without properly cleaning up after yourself.

You turned to make your way out of the room, but you felt the room spin with you. You caught yourself on a desk and made sure you had a strong footing. This was going to be incredibly difficult.

You fought your heavy eyelids and focused on getting out of the damn classroom. When you made it to the door, you about fell, the weight of your body becoming almost too much to handle.

You made a quick decision to turn right instead of left down the hall. Sure it was quicker to get to your dorm if you had gone left, but that also meant braving the moving staircases. You felt woozy even thinking about trying to make your way up those in this state, so you decided to go the long way, which at least would take you in front of the Slytherin common room. Maybe that way someone would find your incapacitated body. 

You stumbled your way along the long narrow hallways, trying your best not to knock into any statues or painting. You were certain one of the paintings actually scolded you for waking it up, but you couldn’t quite focus your mind on anything other than putting one foot in front of the other. Right, left, right.

You didn't know how much longer you could hold yourself up. Oh well, one night on a cold, hard castle floor wouldn’t kill you, right?

Through your hazy vision, you could make out a figure headed your way.

“Y/N?,” the voice called out. You weren’t sure if it was because of your current state or because of the acoustic castle walls, but the noise bounced around over and over, echoing and making you even more dizzy than you already felt.

You groaned and leaned yourself against the wall, the figure appearing in front of you. You forced yourself to look up and see who it was.

You were met with a very confused and concerned looking Regulus. The sight of him left you with a breath of relief. You don’t know why he was roaming the halls this late, but you were sure glad to have him now.

“Reggie,” you gasped. Time was running out quickly now. 

“Y/N, are you alright? What happened?” he asked, dropping his bag and closing the gap between the both of you.

You felt your legs finally give and saw the hallway start to tilt. Regulus caught you quickly and helped you to the ground, laying you down softly but still worried.

“Reggie,” you started once again. You needed to tell him to get you to your dorm where you had countless antidotes and nullifying potions, at least to Slughorn who would know what to do, but fatigue was winning this battle. “Potion… exploded.” you managed to get out.

Regulus shook his head, still not understanding what was happening. “W-what potion? Y/N!”

You knew you were a goner now, your eyes had finally sealed themselves shut and your limbs were incredibly heavy with lethargy. The last thing you remembered was the words coming slowly out of your mouth, “Get… Sirius.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You felt sheets under you. Cold and scratchy. You don’t remember falling asleep last night. In fact, you don’t remember much of anything. You heard hushed murmuring around you, but the words were quiet enough for you to not pick up on.

You cracked your eyes open, light flooding in. You were still a bit groggy, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you noticed the high ceilings and the stained glass. This was certainly not your dorm, these sheets definitely did not belong on your bed. No. You were in the hospital wing.

You sat up straight, the movement making your head pound. You looked frantically around, noting the antidotes and potions on the side table, Madam Pomfrey must have been quite confused about your situation.

You looked down to see James at your bedside, hunched over the bed and resting his head on his crossed arms. He looks surprisingly peaceful given the way he was sleeping. You reached your hand lazily out to him, running your fingers through his hair.

This action roused him from his sleep, his eyes fluttered and brows furrowed as he woke. You smiled down at him.

“She’s awake!” he announced.

Not a moment later Sirius and Remus were rushing into the small curtained off room, taking you in and seeming to sigh a breath of relief. 

“Y/N, love.” Sirius said, approaching the opposite side of the bed that James was taking up. He moved around fast and frantic, looking you over for any injuries.

Remus moved in closer as well, slotting himself in right next to James. He took your face in his hands, feeling for your temperature and checking to make sure you were alright.

You didn’t understand at first why they were fussing so much, but the memories started slowly filling your head. You came to the realization that you passed out in the dungeons after your potion mishap. How embarrassing. 

“Love,” Remus said softly, bringing your attention out of your thoughts and onto him, “what happened?”

You groaned again as he helped you lie back down. “Well,” you began, “You know that potions assignment I’ve been working on for so long?”

The boys all nodded their heads, understanding. How could they not, it was practically all you talked about, what you spent all of your free time on, what you ate, slept, and breathed for the past month. Sirius even complained about it taking you away from them.

“I don't know what happened, I was doing everything right. I had all the ingredients measured properly and in the correct order. I just think that the cauldron was too hot or… i don’t know,” you rambled, “anyway, long story short… it exploded.”

The boys blinked at you for a moment. “Exploded?” James asked. You nodded your confirmation.

“But that doesn’t explain why my brother found you collapsing on the dungeon ground.” Sirius mentioned, still confused and worried.

You turned to him and took his hand into yours, squeezing gently.

“It was a sleeping draught, I guess the fumes of the entire thing just affected me.” you explained to him. You laughed to yourself, “at least I know it was a good potion now.”

Remus smiled but didn’t laugh. “We were really worried, love.” he said, shoulders relaxing knowing that you were alright. 

The feeling of guilt rushed into you. It was probably really scary for them, especially since they had no idea what was wrong. Seeing a loved one in that kind of a state and in the hospital must have been stressful and worrying.

“I’m so sorry,” you started apologizing to them, “It was an accident but, I know that must have been really scary for all of you.” 

James shook his head. “No love, you don’t need to apologize. We’re all just glad you’re alright.”

“Yes but, I know that can’t have been easy, especially not knowing what was happening. I hate that I caused you to worry like that.” you continued.

“Hey,” Sirius stopped you, “like you said, it was an accident, you don’t have to apologize for that. And besides, we are your boyfriends, we worry because it’s our job.”

You went to interject but Remus stopped you. “It’s true,” he said playfully, “James about had a panic attack last week when you went out to Hogsmeade without a jacket.”

You laughed and looked at James who nodded and mouthed ‘it’s true’.

“Luckily you made a smart decision and went towards the Slytherin common room so that Reggie was able to find you,” Sirius said. “I owe him big time.”

“Oh Regulus,” you sighed, “I should definitely apologize to him. It probably looked like I was dying and putting that on him…”

“He was actually pretty calm,” Sirius said, “I was impressed. It seemed like he knew exactly what to do. I’m proud of him, I would’ve been a total mess.”

You giggled. “Noted,” you said, “I’ll make sure not to need life saving in front of you then.”

“Glad to see you have your spirit back.” James laughed.

Madam Pomfrey pulled back the curtain closing off your bed area and walked in. “Oh good! You’re awake.” she chimed. “gave us all quite the fright, dear, luckily you were brought straight to me, I had just the antidote for you.”

“And what would have happened if she weren’t brought to you, exactly?” Remus said from beside you, asking out of curiosity.

“She probably would have been out for a couple days.”

“Days?” James asked, shocked.

“Well it’s a good thing I was there then wasn’t it?” Regulus said from the open curtain.

“Reggie!” you called out, glad to see your savior.

Sirius instantly made his way over and in the most exaggerated and over the top way, hugged his brother, making a big display out of it. “Oh my wonderful baby brother. Thank you for saving my love! How will I ever manage to repay your kindness?” he said dramatically, hanging off of Regulus.

“Ugh, get off!” Regulus said, shoving Sirius off of him. Sirius laughed and backed up. “I was just dropping by to see how you were doing.” He said to you.

“I’m doing better now, thanks to you.” you said. “Reggie, I am so sorry, that must have been sort of frightening and-”

“No need to apologize,” he interrupted, “I’m just glad I found you and you weren't spending the night on the cold dungeon floor.

“Well, thank you anyway.” you chuckled. “But if that’s the case, you could have just taken me to my dorm, I have all the antidotes there, you didn’t have to make such a dramatic show of your heroism, dummy.” you sarcastically joked to him. 

“Oh is that so?” Regulus laughed, “Well in that case, I’ll just step over your body next time instead of saving your life.” You laughed along with him.

 Madam Pomfrey cleared you to leave and the boys collected your things for you. You were excited, you knew that now the whole day would be spent with them pampering you to no end. That would mean unlimited cuddles and relaxation and much needed time to make up for with your boys. Exploded potion and Slughorn be damned, you were doing nothing with your boyfriends today.

just some cute poly!marauders content for Remus's birthday :)

[ladybyakuya]

| SIDE EFFECTS + SAKUSA KIYOOMI.

+cw. — fem!reader, established relationship, ( domestic ) fluff, love & comfort, slight angst, mature language, atsumu being atsumu, mention of hinata and bokuto. beta-read by my beloved ray.

+wc. — 1.2k 

+syn.—  Sakusa has gotten used to you pretty quick ever since he started living with you but now that he has known the bliss, he does not want to go back to living alone.

+notes. — this is for flufftober ‘fond moments’ collab event for a prompt: quality time hosted by @spookuna. mdni cuz im eighteen plus blog.| redirect to blog navigation. & tagging @tetzoro for poking my pineal glad with a question that became a inspo for this <3

For almost a month, Kiyoomi has had an odd extension of routine that starts after his matches. It starts with going straight home ( to you ), and eating the dishes you made for him which was suggested by a dietitian of course! and then wait at least one hour before hitting the shower, and that too, a cold one since right after he is done drying himself he jumps into bed just to hold you amongst his chest like a hot bag; this . . .this particular moment is what he has been looking forward to for months and now it has finally become a part of his life, and if things do not go south then it might just last for the rest of his life. Just barely thinking of it gets him wide awake. If life was a sleepless dream, then he would not mind sleeping forever at the end of it with you.

Today, however, everything turned upside down. He came home a little late, just a little; ate silently without talking much. Generally, he turns into a yapper right when he sees you. He has so much to talk about yet even with all that bubbling enthusiasm he still does not forget to ask, “Babe, how was your day?”, “Aw, babe that’s amazing. I’m so proud of you.”, “What? Need me to scare the manager? Because I can.” he says while flexing his muscles wearing nothing but a towel around his torso but you know he won’t do that since he has the confidence that you can handle anything all by yourself. After all, you scared the shit out of Miya when you first met him and he will not accept but, indeed, Miya is not easily scared, especially by girls. However, this evening his responses were full of— “umm.” and “umhm” — nods and sneaking glances. The Kiyoomi that is reserved for the world has come home to you today. 

And that one-hour gap, between his dinner and shower, which is generally filled with listening to you as you roam around the house and work and he follows you like a puppy is filled with frequent calls, messages, and screen time today. It sure makes you worry if not disappointed or angry. It has been a month since you two started living together, so this one hour has always been filled with making this small apartment a place that you both could call “home.” Things were slowly falling into place, turning this place into a home. You were happy, and Kiyoomi? He was the happiest man in the world. 

However, crest-fallen.

Sakusa came out of the bathroom freshly showered when you were folding his clothes. Now that he can see your back properly without any thoughts lingering in his mind you look tired, sad, and perhaps. . . a little annoyed. Maybe it is not a good time to tell you the news after all but what else he can do, he does not have much time left either. He tip-toes his way towards you, slowly.

“C’mon out with it, omi. What’s up?” You say and turn towards him with a bunch of his clothes in your hand only to face a half-naked Sakusa, a pink towel wrapped around his torso, his hands in the air branching out in a form of embrace. You chuckle as you walk off to his closet but his stance remains intact just his head following you; 

his jaw drops as he enquires with utmost curiosity, “How do you always know?” which earns him just an endearing glance from you. You keep the stack of his clothes on the shelf, one by one as he finally says what has been bothering him. “I have to move out. . .to Osaka.” You had to pause before keeping the last t-shirt on the stack of clothes. Your hand is still on the edge of the closet wooden frame since you know the moment you close it— is the moment you have to face such a warped reality where you would be alone in this newly bought apartment, with no omi to wait for, cook for, or take care of. . . 

As if he could read your thoughts he mumbles sharply. “Babe, turn around.” He must be still in that pink towel. The air conditioner is on but it seems that he does not mind the cold today. You slowly turn around closing the cupboard with your hands at the back biting your lower lip in anticipation thinking if Kiyoomi had to tell you about moving out to you, then he must have tried all the possibilities of either staying here with you or taking you with him yet none of them must have worked because if it had, you two would not be standing so apart like two curtains drawn apart. 

“Oh dear God,” Kiyoomi groans as he clutches your wrist pulling you into himself. He makes you sit on the edge of the bed while he sits on the floor, legs folded keeping his head on your lap as he draws lazy patterns on the side of your thighs with both hands, simultaneously. “I never thought I’d fall in love even though I’ve planned it in my notebook ever since I was a kid.” He turns his head up, “Now that my love is here I want to keep it, safe, forever.” The water from his hair has left spots on your long tee. You run your nails through his scalp and he lets out a low even groan saying, “So, I took a week off to spend time with you and of course to get the packing done.” He has to rake his eyes open since the exhaustion blended with being sleepy along with your tender touch is too tempting not to give in.

“What?” You ask, surprised. “You did it for me?”

“Yeah. ‘course. Why wouldn’t I?”

A black pup tip-toes its way into the room and both of you watch it walk till it halts right at your feet wagging its tail, tongue hanging out of its mouth. Both of you look at each other, and then a familiar voice turns up, “We’re here love birds.” Sakusa rolls his eyes before turning around and grabbing your bathrobe to wrap himself up probably because now his senses are back enough to let him know how chill the temperature of the room is. You put your palms over your cheeks, it has become warm again, as you look at the pup. 

Just when you crouched down to pat the pup, Atsumu, Hinata, and Bokuto followed into your shared bedroom. 

“So, what’re you gonna name him?” Miya asks with a big grin plastering on his face.

“Kiyo!”

“Heyyyyy.” Naturally, Sakusa protests. Bokuto and Hinata share a look holding back their laughter. 

“Well, I call you Omi when I need something from you, or when I’m angry with you and I call you Mr. sakusa when we—you struggle to put your thoughts out in words so Atsumu interjects. 

“ —fuck.” He is still grinning. What’s he so happy about?

“Yeah. that.” you point at him while keeping your eyes still on Kiyoomi. “So, I don’t see a problem calling him Kiyo.”

[mattysprincess]

Love me like it’s the last thing you’ll do.

This is the prequel to this Drabble

SMUT! MDNI!!

It’s not proofread so if you find any mistakes don’t be shy to DM me!! And I’m always open for criticism and tips!

You and Mattheo had been dating for around 1 month, you kept your relationship Private for now because as much as he loved you… he was still scared of others viewing him as weak for actually having feelings, for being in love.

For the record, Mattheo Riddle has never been in a relationship nor romantically involved with any girl ever, it was all hookups and one night stands and so you understood that he wanted to take it slow, understanding his worries and fears.

The problem with that however is that you can’t show affection to eachother in public, leading to others thinking you’re single and free to hit on… which Mattheo can’t seem to handle very well.

Mattheo shoots you a quick text after some overly confident Gryffindor tried flirting with you.

‘My dorm. Now.’

That doesn’t sound too good… You immediately make your way to his dorm, not bothering to knock, as always, you slowly push the door open revealing a frowning Mattheo pacing in his room. “Why were you so close to him?” He immediately shoots and his tone confirms your bad feeling. “Mattheo-“ “Why the fuck were you even with him? Did he make you laugh? Is he better? Did you flirt with him-?!” “Mattheo.”

Your firm voice cuts through his questions and he looks at you as you step closer, standing right infront of him now. “Will you let me speak?’’ He runs a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated but nods. “Thank you.. no, I did not flirt with him, no he didn’t make me laugh and no he isn’t better than you. He came up to me and tried to flirt but I told him I’m not interested and to use his awful flirting skills with someone else.” You cup his cheeks, rubbing your thumb back and forth gently. “You know you’re the only one I allow to flirt with me…”

Mattheos expression soften at your words and touch, feeling guilty for even thinking you would. “I’m sorry I just- I don’t know… I hate when guys think they can flirt with you and have a chance with you.” He lifts one hand to cup yours that’s on his cheek, squeezing lightly. You smile at his little gesture and apology, letting out a soft breath.

“It’s okay Matty… just next time let me speak first, yeah?” you chuckle softly, leaning up to press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose, making him let out a chuckle under his breath.

“I don’t deserve you…” he mutters lowly, looking at you like you’re the most precious living and breathing thing. You feel a light pink dust your cheeks, yet a frown finds its way to your lips. “Matty… you do deserve me.” you say softly, voice barely above a whisper and he just shakes his head. “Baby… you’re everything I never will be. You’re soft, delicate, sweet… you’re like a ray of sunshine wherever you go. You make people happy just by smiling at them, your voice brings others comfort and warmth. You’re every good thing bundled up into a person and I'm-" he sighs and sits down at the edge of his bed, looking down "and I’m me.” he murmurs.

The frown on your face stays as you walk up to stand between his legs, cupping his cheeks to coax him to look up at you. “look at me please my love..” you say softly, so much warmth in your tone that he can’t help the way his heart flutters, the way he looks up at you so willingly. He’d do anything if you’d just asked with that sweet voice of yours, one word, a simple syllable is enough to make him forget about everything else. “Mattheo you’re you and that’s what makes you so special.” you whisper, like sharing a secret with him “you say you’re not sweet, kind nor soft… but when you touch me it’s like I’m made out of the finest porcelain, when you talk to me I feel like I’m floating, you go out of your way to do anything that might make me crack a smile and you always help me with everything even if I keep telling you I can do it myself.” You smile at him, stroking his cheek and he smiles back lightly “I know you can do it yourself.. but I’m your boyfriend, I want to do it for you. You shouldn’t have to lift a finger when I’m around.” He takes one of your hands that’s on his cheek and brings it to his mouth, brushing his lips against your knuckles. “This is why you deserve me Mattheo… me and so much more.” You whisper, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips.

The kiss, supposed to be sweet, quickly gets deeper as he tangles one of his hands in your hair and his other pulls you onto his lap, pressing you flush against him. He nudges his tongue against your bottom lip, asking for entrance that you grant him so willingly. He pushes his tongue into your mouth, tasting you, exploring you like he’s done countless of times yet it still feels different. Softer, gentler, more passionate and like he’s pouring all of his love and affection into a single kiss. It’s making both your heart swell with love as well as make your pussy throb with excitement and desire and you know Mattheos feeling the same because the second you grind your hips down onto his you feel his bulge pressing flush against you, the only thing separating you being his pants and your panties.

“Fuck… baby I need you.” He murmur against your lips, his hands slipping beneath the fabric of your shirt, thumbs striking the undersides of your breasts as his mouth moves down to press hot opened mouthed kisses from your jaw down to the column of your throat.

“Then take me, Matty… I’m only yours to take.” You breathe out, Mattheos eyes darkening as the words leave your mouth. “That’s right… mine.” He murmurs against your skin and lifts your shirt up and over your head, leaning back to admire you. “Merlin… you’re beautiful. My beautiful, beautiful girl.. all mine baby.” He says under his breath, more to himself than to you.

His hands roam your body, squeezing and caressing whatever he can, all the while whispering sweet nothings against your skin. You let him, sitting in his lap all soft and pliant and patient, just letting him feel you and worship you however he wants. His hands reach your thighs, going up and under your skirt, his fingers playing with the hem of your panties. “You gonna be a good girl and let me worship your pretty little body, baby?” He murmurs against your neck and all you can do is nod as your stomach flutters in the best way possible. “So perfect, such a perfect girl for me hm?” He grins, pulling your panties down your legs and patting your thigh, silently telling you to stand so you do. He pulls them down completely, then slowly unzips your skirt, letting it drop and pool at your feet. You stand before him, bare as he finally unclasps your bra and removes the last piece of clothing that’s preventing him from seeing all of you. He stands, towering above you as he grabs your waist and lays you down on the bed. “You’re beautiful… fuck you’re so perfect, baby, I could look at you forever and never get bored of it.” He whispers under his breath, looking at you with soft eyes yet you see the hunger behind them, the simmering heat of desire he’s only ever had for you. You reach up, fingers tangling in his curls before coming down to cup his cheeks “I wanna see you too, Matty… please.” The second you utter please, whatever it is, Mattheo will always give you. So he leans down to peck your lips, a lingering kiss, before leaning back and taking off his shirt. Now it’s your eyes roaming over his body, unashamed desire on full display as well as admiration for his trained and scarred body. His hands go down his belt, undoing it quickly and then unzipping his pants, kicking them off and leaning back over you. “That needs to go too.” You whisper with a smile and point to his black boxers, he grins back at you amusedly “someone’s impatient.” You raise a brow at him “as if you want to wait any longer?” He chuckles at that, pressing kisses from your forehead to your cheek and then finally to your lips “I wanna take my time with you tonight, Angel. Let me show you I love you… how much you mean to me.” Your lips part slightly as you look up at him, he sounds so vulnerable and genuine… you could never deny him anything, not that you wanted to anyways so you nod, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’m yours, Mattheo. Tonight, tomorrow, always.” He closes his eyes for a moment, heart beating dangerously fast and a smile graces his lips “and I’m yours, Angel. Tonight, tomorrow, always.”

With that he starts pressing open mouthed kisses down your body, taking a nipple between his lips as he reaches your breasts, making you moan as he swirls his tongue around it, sucking, licking and kissing while his hand is caressing the other bud. Your hands tangle in his unruly curls, tugging slightly as he gently bites you, not being able to resist it. He releases your right nipple with a pop, blowing cool air on the wet bud and making goosebumps raise on your entire body. He moves to the other, giving it the same attention before moving further down to your stomach, kissing and licking whatever he can. When he gets down to your hips, he sucks a hickey right above where your panties would be.

He moves lower and lower but right past where you need him most, making your squirm slightly and he smirks. “Be patient, baby… I’ll give you what you want, just be good a little longer.” He murmur against the inside of your thighs, biting you there gently and making you yelp slightly and tug at his hair. His tongue goes over the spot he bit gently, soothing the sting and saying sorry. He litters your thighs in hickeys and bite marks until your legs are clenching and trembling from the heat that’s pooled right between your legs. “Matty please…” he chuckles slightly, looking up from between your legs “such good manners for me…” he licks a long stripe up your pussy, making you moan out as your head drops back against the pillow.

He eats you out like a man starved, his tongue reaching whatever it can. He lifts your legs over his shoulders, his arms wrapping around your hips, one hand sprawled over your stomach possessively. Moans and whimpers tumble from your lips, his name on your tongue like a prayer as he devours you whole. The only thing on his mind is your pleasure, how to make you feel good… how he wants to be the only one to ever see you or make you feel this way, driven by those thoughts the dives in with even more fervour “I can feel you clench angel… cum for me, right on my tongue like a good girl.”

Those words push you over the edge, your whole body tensing up as you clench your thighs around his head and he swears he’s in heaven. He laps up your release, making you twitch and only when he’s made sure he’s got every last drop he lifts his head, crawling back over you and licking his lips “I might just need to give you a new nickname… you taste so sweet, fuck I’d give up every meal on this planet if it meant I got to eat you for the rest of my life,” he murmurs with a smile and you look up at him, chest heaving with pants, small smile on your lips “so what will you call me?” He grins at that “I think sweetness would fit you quite well, wouldn’t it?” That tears a small giggle from your lips, making Mattheo grin wider.

After calming down a bit, you tense up again as you feel his dick prodding at your entrance “oh you didn’t think we’re done, did you?” He grins “I’d be disappointed if we were, Matty.” And with that he slowly pushes in, making sure you feel every inch of his rock hard cock as he splits you open. You gasp, clawing at his back, it was always difficult to take him but with his gentle words and soft coos it somehow seems so much more intense then all the times before.

“Shhh I’ve got you angel, I’ve got you… relax for me, can you do that? Can you be a good girl and relax for me?” He coos softly on your ear, making you want to do whatever he asks without question so you try your best to relax for him. He feels your walls unclench the slightest bit and smiles, peppering soft kisses along your face and jaw once’s he’s fully inside you. “So good for me… you’re doing so good, I’m so proud of you.” He whispers against your skin and you can’t help but clench around him again, making him groan.

He lets you adjust for a couple seconds before he pulls back until only his tip remains and pushes back in, making you let out a loud moan. He grins and does it again, setting a slow rhythm, each thrust hard and deep, you swore you could feel him in your stomach. He grunts above you, small hisses and pants leaving his lips and it’s the hottest things you’ve ever experienced.

He slowly picks up the pace, grabbing your hips with one hand while the other goes to your neck, squeezing lightly which oddly brings you comfort. “Matty..!” Your breathless voice rings out and Mattheo cant help but go harder, almost pounding into you before pulling out completely, a whine slipping from your lips. But before you could get any word of protest out he grabs you and turns you around, hands and knees digging into the mattress as he slips back inside on one long thrust. “I’m gonna take you like this and you’re gonna love it, okay?” He leans down, his chest pressing against your back as his one hand slips down to press against your stomach while he moves in and out of you. “F-fuck… Mattheo oh my god..!” You feel him deep inside you, so much more intensely then before and your face drops into the sheets as he pounds into you from behind.

“Fuck you’re amazing… I love you much, can you feel how deep I’m inside you? No one will ever get that deep because You. Are. Mine.” Each word is punctuated with a hard thrust, your eyes roll back and in that moment all you think about is him, how he makes you feel and how you’ll only ever be his for the rest of your life. The hand on your stomach reaches down, playing with your clit as he pounds into you impossibly faster “come with me, sweetness. Come on my cock while I come inside you.” He breathes into your ear and you all but comply, clenching around him tightly and coming for the second time that night with a loud moan of his name.

He rides out your orgasm, his thrusts growing sloppy and with a few more his body jerks and he sheaths himself deep inside you, filling you up with his hot cum as you twitch from the feeling. You fall onto the mattress and he rolls you over onto your back before collapsing on top of you, his head buried in your neck as you both try to catch your breaths.

“I love you…”

Im so sorry for being inactive guys, I’ve been a bit stressed lately. Take this as an apology and happy New years! Love all of you <3

~Princess

Taglist: @revesephemeres @ur-local-wizard

[nrdmssgs]

Kissing König on the forehead

Masterlist Kissing Ghost on the forehead Kissing Price on the forehead

TW: mentions of social anxiety

His life consists of you. Literally: you have become the measure of everything. There are no more 'Fridays' or 'Novembers' - there are days, weeks and months, until he sees you again. No more rooms in his house - there is a wall to which he pressed his back, giving you more space to pass by, when he first saw you. There is a stove where you burned your fingers, making his heart ache when he saw your tears for the first time. There is a window, by which he fell on his knees and frantically stroked and kissed your hands, after he heard your timid confession. Anything beautiful he witnessed, anything meaningful he heard or read, made sense, only when he thought, how would he share it with you.

König knows, It's too much, his eagerness to be by your side constantly, his hunger for your touch, his feelings - he is too much. And he is afraid, so terribly and utterly afraid, that one day you see it too and leave him. So he restrains himself, tries to be less vocal, clasps his hands around his elbows to not hug you every minute, he is around. König carefully plans every conversation, you two will have, when he is back from deployment. Sometimes these imaginary chats end good, other times - you yell at him, but what is even worse - you cry. Your tears, even ones, he imagines pain him so badly - he immediately takes out his phone and texts you.

"I am so sorry, Schatz."

He snaps back to reality only when he gets your worried answer. Of course, you get scared and want to know, what happened. So he has to come up with some excuse.

"I am sorry for not being right now with you. I know, it's evening back at home, and you are probably watching some show, and I remember, how you like cuddling, while doing it. I'm sorry for not being there."

König finally puts the phone away, hissing at himself for this episode.

When he finally returns, you refuse to wait for him at home and come straight to the station. He allows himself to squeeze you in his arms, but deep inside his head, König counts. "One-two-three-four-five-it's time to let her go, you can't just stand there and embarrass her with your tenderness in front of everyone. You are becoming too much once again."

You interrupt his inner tirade. "Let's go home, love."

An entrance door shuts behind his back, and he finally takes a deep breath in, feeling the familiar scents of your shared house. König hears some strange repeating noise, lowers his eyes and notices that you are immersed in the fight with a jamming zipper on your jacket. On the very next moment, he kneels before you, moves your hands away from the zipper and tries to figure it out himself. It takes him a while, because he is afraid to pull too hard, finally destroying the jacket. You look at him warmly and laugh softly. "König don't worry, I can handle it."

At that moment, zipper finally breaks. König frowns.

"You couldn't just mind your business, you idiot? Now she is going to finally see, how overwhelming you are, how you break everything, you care for, how you smother those, who you love. Is that what you wanted?" An angry voice inside his head shouts and silences everything around, including König himself. He doesn't feel his lips starting to tremble, forming some apologetic mumbling. He doesn't hear, when you try to reassure him.

So you take a quick step forward, and embrace him, pressing your lips against his forehead. Maybe that angry voice exists only in his head, but it's not the first time, you witness König tearing himself apart for no reason.

"You are overthinking again, love. But its going to be ok, I promise." Another kiss on his forehead.

"You are not overwhelming to be with, you are not annoying. No." By this time, you know all the terrifying things König's mind whispers and shouts to itself.

"No one is going to get tired and leave you. Especially not me." You kiss his closed eyes, not caring for remains of dark camouflage paint on his skin.

"You are overthinking, and it is ok, because it shows, that you really care. It's not your fault." You press your lips against his face, so that he not only hears, but also feels, what you are saying.

And that silents Königs anxiety and self-doubt. He suddenly feels tired, but endlessly loved. He finally comes back home, pulling you into a long and tight embrace, not counting seconds this time.

[ceyanabbiolo]

PHOTOGRAPH // M.S [18]

Summary: Daphne Denoire, a 21-year-old, returns to Boston after 3 years—but working for her brother’s best friend, Matthew Sturniolo, wasn’t part of the plan. He’s a 26-year-old multimillionaire. She’s the girl he was never supposed to feel this way about. With secrets between them and boundaries set, how far will they go for a love they never saw coming?

Warnings: angst

wc: 2387

Chapter 18: Beauty In Death

The second the door slammed shut behind Noah, my stomach dropped like a stone.

“Shit,” I breathed, heart racing.

Daphne clutched the blanket around herself, frozen in pure panic, her cheeks flushed deep red. I gave her a quick look—guilt sinking in deep—and grabbed the first clothes I could reach.

“Stay here,” I said quickly, tugging my shirt over my head and stumbling into my pants, not even bothering to fix myself properly. My heart was pounding so hard it made my chest ache.

By the time I reached the living room, Noah was pacing near the kitchen island like he didn’t know what to do with himself. Hands in his hair. Breathing unevenly.

He turned the second he heard me.

“Don’t even,” he snapped. “Don’t say anything.”

“Noah—”

“You were fucking her, Matt?” he yelled, rage rising in every syllable. “My sister?”

“I—”

He didn’t let me speak.

“How long has this been going on? Huh?” he spat. “How long have you been lying to me?”

I didn’t respond; he needed to calm down. 

“Why her, Matt? You can have any fucking woman. Why the fuck are you in bed with my sister, that I trusted you with?!”

The words hit harder than I expected, because we had been lying to him. For months.

“Noah, man,” I said quietly, standing still. “We didn’t mean for it to happen like this.”

Noah laughed—cold, bitter. “Didn’t mean for what, exactly? For me to walk in on my best friend naked with my baby sister?” He scoffed, eyes bloodshot. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“It wasn’t like that,” I said firmly, stepping forward. “We weren’t hiding it to be sneaky. She was scared.”

Noah let out a hollow laugh. “Oh, now you’re speaking for her?”

“I’m not speaking for her,” I said, voice rising. “I’m trying to explain. We didn’t plan for this to happen, alright? But it did, and I would never—never—use her or hurt her.”

He stared at me, breathing hard, fists clenched at his sides.

“I asked you last month,” he raged. “Last month, if something was going on, and you looked me dead in the eye and said no.”

I swallowed. “Noah, I swear to you…I love her.”         

“You love her? You love her, and you couldn’t even have the decency to tell me? My best friend? You let me walk into my apartment—into her room—”

“I didn’t know you were coming!” I snapped back, my voice rising despite myself. “You just showed up—”

“Exactly! I showed up because this is my home, and  I trusted you, because you’re supposed to be like a brother to me.”

Noah’s eyes burned as he stepped toward me, his voice low and laced with fury.

“You don’t love her.”

I stared back, stunned. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You don’t love her,” he repeated, louder this time. “You just think you do, Matt. You’re not that guy. I’ve known you for too long—you’ve slept with half of Boston.”

My jaw clenched. “Are you serious right now?”

He laughed bitterly. “Don’t act surprised. I’ve seen the way you treat women. One minute they’re in your bed, the next they’re ghosts. You’re not some forever guy, Matt. You're not built for it.”

My blood boiled. “So that’s what you think of me?” I stepped forward. “You think I’d risk everything—you—our friendship—for a fucking fling?”

He didn’t back down. “I think you saw something in her, and you convinced yourself you were capable of loving it. But you’re not. You don’t even know what she’s been through.”

I froze.

He kept going, voice sharper now. “You couldn’t handle it. You just see what’s on the surface—she’s shy and kind—and it makes you feel like a good guy for wanting to protect her.”

My stomach dropped. I couldn’t even speak.

I didn’t have to.

I had completely forgotten he didn’t know I knew about Daphne's SA. 

Behind us, the soft creak of a door opening cut through the tension like a knife.

I turned. Daphne stood there.

Hair tousled, face pale, a t-shirt hanging loosely over her frame. She looked like she’d heard everything.

And I think she had.

Her eyes flicked between me and Noah—my fists still clenched, Noah’s chest still heaving—and I saw it: that flicker of pain flash across her face.

Noah turned too, and when he saw her, something in him ignited again. His nostrils flared. His jaw tightened.

“You heard all that?” he asked bitterly.

She didn’t answer.

He took a step toward her. “You lied to me.”

Daphne flinched, just slightly.

“I didn’t—” she started, voice thin, but he cut her off.

“You lied, Daphne.” His voice was shaking. “All this time, you lived with me. You let me go on, thinking there was nothing between you two—”

“I didn’t mean to lie,” she said quickly. “It wasn’t about hiding it to hurt you. I just… I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Tell me what, huh?” he barked. “That you’re in love with my best friend? That you’ve been sleeping with him under my nose?”

“Stop,” Matt said firmly, stepping between them. “Noah, that’s enough—”

“No.” Noah shoved past me. “She doesn’t get to play innocent.”

He looked at Daphne again, raw and furious. My whole body hated the way he was talking to her. 

“You kept me in the dark. You let me talk about him, and you never said a damn word. How long?”

Daphne swallowed hard. “Since January.” 

He stared. “No,” he said quietly, shaking his head. “No, no way. That’s… months. You—Gosh, Daphne. What else have you been hiding from me?”

“Nothing,” she whispered. “Nothing, I swear.”

But he wasn’t listening.

He turned away, pacing, then spun back. “Did you ever plan on telling me? Or were you gonna keep sneaking around until I walked in on you again?”

Tears started swelling in her eyes, but she blinked them back. “I wanted to tell you. I just—I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Too late,” he snapped. 

He turned back to me. 

“I knew this was coming,” Noah said, his voice tight with anger. “The moment she told me she was working for you, I just knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off.”

He spun back to Daphne, eyes blazing.

“And you?” he snapped. “You just let the first guy who pays attention to you mark you like that, Daphne? After everything you’ve been through, haven’t you put your brain cells together?”

I watched, confused and tense, as the argument spiraled between them. Daphne’s voice was steady but strained as she said, “I’m an adult, Noah.”

He scoffed, eyes narrowing. “Yeah, sure. Because you for sure act like one.”

“I love him, Noah,” she said said, my voice trembling but sure. My heart sank. 

He let out a bitter laugh, sharp and disbelieving. “Shut up, Daphne. No, you don’t.”

His tone was biting, but I could hear the hurt underneath it all.

After a pause, he added, voice heavy with frustration, “After everything I’ve done for you.”

Daphne’s shoulders tensed, and she murmured, “I didn’t want to make it seem like I was taking something away from you again.”

Noah’s gaze sharpened, and his voice dropped, darker this time.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

I stood there, heart pounding, not fully understanding what he meant, but feeling the weight of his words.

However, Daphne seemed to have been taken aback by those words. Daphne’s voice wavered but held firm. 

“You can’t blame me for that, Noah. I was twelve.”

I watched Noah’s jaw tighten, his voice cutting sharper than before.

 “Yeah, well, it was because you weren’t patient, because you couldn’t control yourself.”

I stepped back, confusion swirling in my mind, the tension thickening between them.

He took a step towards her, his glare darkened, voice low and raw, like he was dredging up a wound no one had dared touch.

“Because of you… I don’t have parents anymore.”

Daphne looked like she had been punched in the gut. 

His eyes locked onto mine with a harsh intensity that made my breath catch.

“Or a friend I thought I could trust.”

The room fell into a suffocating silence.

What did he mean by that? A million questions flooded my mind, twisting with every heartbeat.

Noah’s eyes locked on me, burning with raw anger. “Get out of my apartment,” he said, voice low but deadly serious.

I opened my mouth to protest, but before I could say a word, Daphne stepped between us, her hands trembling.

“Noah, please—don’t do this.”

I shot Noah a pleading look. “Come on, man. Let’s just calm down.”

But Noah’s glare didn’t waver. “This isn’t about calming down.”

His fist clenched tightly, and in a sudden, furious motion, he swung toward me.

Time seemed to slow as I saw the punch coming, but before it connected, Daphne threw herself forward, placing herself between us.

Tears streamed down her face as she whispered, “Noah, stop! Please!”

Her sobs echoed in the room, and for a moment, everything shattered—the anger, the tension, the fear—replaced by raw, desperate pain.

I reached out, gently pulling Daphne back from the edge, heart hammering in my chest. I hated seeing her like this. 

Noah’s chest heaved, his fury clashing with the pain in his eyes.

He stared at us, like it physically pained him to see his sister in my arms. 

Noah’s chest rose and fell heavily, the storm of fury swirling with a deep, aching pain in his eyes. He looked at us, like Daphne in my arms, physically pained him to see. 

He sighed.

“It’s not that I’m even mad you two are together,” he said, voice rough and strained. “I want Daphne to be happy. I want that more than anything.”

But then his gaze hardened, the raw hurt sharpening his words.

“It’s the lying—the secrecy—that makes it all feel like some kind of lie to me. Like, none of this is real.”

His fists clenched at his sides, trembling slightly with the weight of everything he’d been holding in.

“I’m angry. I’m pissed off because you kept me in the dark. Because I thought you were my brother, and instead, I’m just some outsider watching it all happen behind my back.”

His voice cracked, heavy with the torment of betrayal, as he looked at Daphne. 

“I always put you first, Daphne, that's why I can’t accept you keeping this from me.”

There was an unbearable silence before he spoke again. Noah’s voice cut through the room again—sharper this time.

“Get out, Matt.”

It wasn’t a request. It wasn’t even a shout. It was final. Cold. Strained. 

I swallowed hard. My chest felt like it had been split wide open, each breath tighter than the last. My eyes flicked to Daphne—her face crumpled with disbelief, her mouth already parting like she was going to beg him not to say it again.

“No,” she said, her voice cracking as she stepped forward. “No, Noah, I’m sorry—don’t do this.”

I reached for her hand gently, squeezing it. She was shaking. Her eyes were glassy, and everything about her looked shattered.

“It’s okay,” I said softly, my voice hoarse. “Let everything cool down. I’ll go.”

“Matt—” she whispered, grabbing at my shirt like she couldn’t bear to let me walk out again.

Her fingers curled around me like I was the only solid thing left.

“I love you,” I murmured so only she could hear. “And I’m not leaving you. Just giving him space to calm down.”

I turned to Noah then, and—it took everything in me not to snap. Not to let my rage rise to meet his.

But instead, I looked him dead in the eye. And all I let him see was the pain. Pain that the person I’d once trusted like a brother could look at me like I was nothing more than a betrayal.

I gave one last look at Daphne—one that said I’ll come back. I promise.

Then I stepped out the door, and the second it clicked shut behind me. 

The elevator ride down felt like hell. Every floor that ticked by, I could still hear her voice echoing in my head. “No, Matt… don’t go.” The image of her reaching for me burned behind my eyes like it had been branded there. I could still feel the tremble in her hands, the hurt in her eyes.

And Noah—the look he gave me. Like I’d stolen something sacred. Like I wasn’t the person he thought I was.

Maybe I wasn’t.

By the time I stepped out into the parking garage, I couldn’t breathe. My hands were shaking as I grabbed my helmet, my heart slamming in my chest with nowhere for the anger or heartbreak to go. I felt like a coward—walking out like that. Leaving her in the ruins of a mess I helped build.

What the hell was I doing? How did everything go so wrong, so fast?

I fired up the bike, needing the engine’s roar to drown out the voice in my head. The city blurred around me as I sped out into the night. The streets were dark, glistening from a drizzle, but I didn’t care. I didn’t even feel the cold.

I gripped the throttle harder, faster, weaving past traffic, tunnel vision setting in. My thoughts kept spiraling:

I should’ve fought harder for her. I should’ve stayed. Why didn’t I stay?

Was I too scared to deal with Noah’s anger? Did I just prove him right?

My chest ached, but I couldn’t slow down. Not now. I needed something—anything—to cut through the chaos in my head. I didn’t even notice the sharp bend in the road until it was too late.

A flash of headlights. Screeching brakes. My tires hit the painted line—wet.

My world tilted. My body flung sideways. 

Metal screeched against the pavement. I didn’t feel the impact right away, but I could taste the blood running down my skull. 

The wind was knocked out of me. My helmet bounced. 

My limbs scraped, pain blooming in fragments.

For a moment, I just lay there, stunned, breathless, unconscious.

Everything went black. 

The last thing that echoed in my mind was her soft, broken voice.

“Matt… please, don’t go.”

I’m so sorry, sweetheart. 

I think I might have to.

READ ALL RELEASED CHAPTERS NOW!

[a/n: don't hate me guys :( – you guys convinced me in my inbox to post twice sooo here you go, like and reblog! love you all] –ceyana

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[playstation-dreamcast]

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Character Select: Werewolf Chris X Hunter Reader

Synopsis: An Au that takes place outside of the Resident Evil canon. You've been hunting Chris for the better half of a decade now, or maybe he was hunting you. Did it really matter when neither of you ever had any intention of actually killing each other? You'd taken a break off to try and heal an injury (and your ego) and Chris wasn't taking your absence well. He decided it was time to get your attention

CONTENT WARNING: This book contains explicit sexual content, including monster fucking, knotting, and a slightly dubious amount of consent (even if you're having the time of your life.) Viewer Discretion is advised!

Song Rec: Howl by Florence and the Machines

Authors Note: This was written to actually celebrate one of my mutuals birthday!!! She knows who she is, sorry it's like, a months late lmao. it's HERE NOW THOUGH!! WEREWOLVES RIGHT?! CAN I GET AN AMEN?!

This had Chris Redfield’s fingerprints all over it. A small village away from any quick help suddenly has a wave of missing persons reports? Check. Most of those missing people are corrupt cops or otherwise known criminals? Check. 

The people start finding the desecrated carcasses of these criminals at the edge of the woods? On or near the night of the full moon?

Check. 

You’d been hunting this bastard long enough to know his M.O. and long enough to know when he was trying to send you a message specifically. Normally, Chris was content as a passive player of the game, always happy to see you and your knife, but rarely- if ever- going out of his way to catch your attention. What kind of werewolf would he be if he spent all his time trying to get noticed by a hunter? It would have been embarrassing, quite frankly. 

This time though, he brought it to your doorstep. The small village he chose to terrorize this lunar cycle was your home village. And while you hadn’t been back in…well, since you left, he knew your old stomping grounds. He knew your connection to that land, and the only reason he would so brazenly use it as a feeding ground would be to get his “Favorite Chew Toys’” attention. Still, you couldn’t figure out why. 

Maybe he was bored. No, that didn’t make sense. Chris was an animal, but not a mindless one. Even at his most savage, he was never fully feral, that you’ve seen at least. He kept a surprisingly tight grip on himself. For a werewolf. You wondered if maybe his pack had something to do with it. Maybe they had picked it out? But, that made even less sense. From everything you knew about him, you didn’t take Chris to be the kind of Alpha that would just let his pack run amok. 

You looked up at the clear evening sky. Waxing gibbous. You had one more night before the final rampage against the settlement. You looked down as you approached a decline, and a steep one at that. You grimaced, not sure if your leg could handle that, all things considered. You really should have taken more time to recover before going back out on the field. Having your own wooden stake turned against you was a real blow both to your legs' ability to function, and your ego. 

Still, the trail led this way. And backing down had never really been your thing, even if it was against your own body. You took a step down, putting all of your weight on your good leg. You took a moment to brace yourself, taking a deep breath and holding it in your chest. 

And then you stepped right back up to the top of the incline and turned around. There were other parts of these woods you could go hunting for him in, there was no point in possibly leaving yourself prone to the enemy. 

“What, scared to fall?” A familiar gruff voice hit you like a sledgehammer. You whipped your head to the right, only to find Chris leaning against a tree- his neon yellow eyes burning a hole into your soul, glowing in the night. When did he even get there? 

“You don’t have to be, you know.” He smirked, pushing himself off the tree, “I’d catch you.” 

You immediately readied your weapon. “I’d be careful who you went around saving, Redfield,” You warned as you aimed your flit lock at him, “You never know who might have a silver bullet with your name on it.”

He rolled his eyes dramatically, shoving his hands into the pockets of his navy blue jacket. “Do we really have to do this every time?” he complained. You took a moment to study him. dark cargo pants, jacket, and a navy turtleneck. His body would almost entirely blend in with the night, if not for the stainless steel dog tags glinting around his neck. 

“Do what every time?” You asked, lowering the gun ever so slightly. 

“The threatening, the fighting, the dancing around the sexual tension,” he grinned at that last one, “Can’t we just talk for once? I’m starting to think you only want me for my body you know.”

You aggressively rolled your eyes back at him, deeply annoyed with his nonchalant attitude. “You’ve been terrorizing my fucking villiage Chris!” You snapped, “What is there to talk about?”

“Oh, It’s your village?” He asked flatly, cocking his head to the side, “You’re one of the leaders? I didn’t see your name on it.”

“Chris.”

He raised his hands up in mock defense. “What?” He asked, “I’m not even terrorizing it. I’m helping it.”

You growled as you threw your limbs down in an almost childish display. “Murdering people is not helpful, Redfield! We've been through this!”

He smirked slyly, taking a step toward you. “Oh, but that’s the catch Pup,”

“Do not call me that.”

“I’m not murdering people,” he continued, “It’s just monsters killing monsters. It’s not my fault I have an advantage.” 

You grit your teeth. You hated how calm he was. You hated how he always treated your encounters like a game- or worse- some sort of fucked up date. He tried to banter with you, knowing he had killed your people!

…Those people being murderers or worse, in some cases, but that wasn’t the point! The point was he dragged away from your medical leave, kicking and screaming, back to a place you fucking hated, out of obligation, and he had the audacity to try and play cat and mouse with you! 

“Where were you?” He suddenly asked, taking another step closer. He seemed to smell something, something that genuinely caught him off guard. His face only showed it for a split second though, before he went back to his regular stone facade. You noticed he took a step back though. 

You shook your head in confusion, “What are you talking about?”

He scowled, the playfulness from earlier all but gone. “What do you mean what am I talking about? I’m talking about the fact that the last time I had any eyes on you, you were at the Kennedy estate,” He kept tabs on you? “And then nothing! You vanished into that fucking shack-”

“I’d hardly call the Kennedy estate a “shack.”” You scoffed, nearly sneered really.

He got angrier, continuing with a growl, “You were gone. For three. Fucking. Months. I thought you died, what happened?” He demanded. 

You fought back a smirk. Was that jealousy you heard? Maybe even a little concern? “Nothing happened,” You shrugged, “Leon’s a very considerate host.”

No he wasn’t. The truth of the matter was that you very nearly did die there. You’d hoped that if you struck in the daylight the ancient vampire would have been weakened. And to be fair, he was! It made the utter display of power as he manhandled you even more terrifying. It hurt when rammed your stake through your leg, but not nearly as much as the plummet from the third story window to the ground you took trying to get out of there. 

You had managed to limp your way to the home of a doctor that was known for helping hunters, broken- and ego more than a little bruised, and that’s where you had been for the past three months. Even now Rebecca had demanded you not go out, insisting you were not ready for combat yet. You ignored her. Your home had been attacked. Meaning your pride had been attacked. It had already been hurt once, you couldn’t just sit back while it happened again. 

Chris laughed as he shook his head, but there was no humor to it. “No. no no no no no, You weren’t at Leon's. I know. I looked. Personally.”

Your blood ran cold. There had been rumors that an ancient vampire had been slaughtered, but you assumed they were just rumors, made with the intent to rub salt in your wounds. You’d never thought it would have had anything to do with Chris. He made a point of leaving the vampires to their own devices. At least you thought he did.

“Did…did you kill Leon?” You asked.

Chris’s eyes darkened. “Who had you.” He wasn’t asking anymore. He was demanding. 

You almost took a step back. In the near decade that you had been hunting Chris, you’d never seen him so…

Possessive. You took a second to reassess him, this time taking into account the purple circles under his eyes, and his unkempt stubble. You wondered when was the last time he got a decent sleep cycle in. You hoped it wasn’t three months ago.

“I was with a doctor,” You explained slowly, trying to ignore the ice crawling up your spine and spidering across your body. “I needed to nurse a wound-”

“That son of a bitch hurt you?” Chris growled, stepping forward before his nose scrunched and he backed away again. 

It was an absurd question to ask. Of course he fucking hurt you, he wasn’t apart of whatever fucked up game you and Chris had going on, and he damn sure wasn’t looking to join. You wanted to snap back at him just how ridiculous of a question that was. Any other night you would have. Tonight though? Tonight his temper was rising at a fast enough rate, and you didn’t want to make a bad situation worse.

“Yeah, yeah he hurt me,” You finally spat the words out, biting back the obviously that threatened to come out with them.  

You saw something flash in his eyes, a feral crack of insanity. Somewhere between protectiveness and bloodlust. “Where?” Chris asked, “How?” 

You thought for a second. You couldn’t run if Chris chose to attack you right now. You’d have to fight. Chris was an Alpha Wolf, meaning he was twice as big and twice as strong as a typical werewolf. You’d been banking on trying to catch him off guard tonight. You’d been banking on him being normal. Maybe that was foolish in hindsight. You’d have to be careful here.

“Answer me Pup.” He demanded, the emphasis he put on “pup” somehow stinging more than any traditional derogatory term ever could. 

You shook your head, “He staked me through my thigh.” You said flatly. He took an instinctive step to you, before stopping to cover his nose, holding it and physically cringing. You knew his nose was better than yours, but for something to be affecting him that much surely you would be able to smell it too. 

Right? You sniffed the air, trying to catch a whiff of whatever it was he couldn’t get near. “What?” You finally asked, “What, is someone watching us? Some other monster? Is there a dumpster fire, what are you smelling?”

He shook his head aggressively. Like he was trying to shake something out of it. “No.” He groaned, not looking at you, “That’s not the problem.” He took a minute to think, or at least try to. Finally he looked at you, something unreadable in his eyes. “You’ve never come after me this close to a full moon.” He noted.

You blinked at him, not entirely sure where he was going with this. Chris was normally far more composed and coherent than this, something had to be going on. Of course you typically avoided him around the full moon, that was when he was at his most powerful. Typically you avoided hunting not just him, but any werewolves around the full moon. During the new moon or waxing crescent, sure, but never after the first quarter. 

You shook your head. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything.” You deadpanned.

He scoffed, annoyance rolling off him in waves. “Of course you don’t. Mortals never do.”

That struck a deep, raw nerve with you. You weren’t entirely sure where he got the fucking audacity to act like you were the one acting strange here, but you knew you weren’t a fan of it. The implication that you were somehow beneath him because of your mortal status was the final straw. Fuck getting answers, you just wanted him to shut up. 

Before you could realize what you were doing, the gun had fired. Chris jerked to the left, avoiding a silver bullet to the head by a hair's width. His eyes narrowed as he realized the game had started. He bum rushed you while you threw the gun down and tried to pull your second weapon from its holster, picking you up and tackling you against a tree. You felt the wind rush out of your lungs as you slammed against the bark, Pounding your fist into his solid back as if that was going to do anything.

If you had been paying any attention, you might have noticed the way he pressed his face against the crook of your neck, and the low growl that left him as he took a deep breath of your scent. You hadn’t been paying attention though, you were too focused on grabbing your silvered dagger from its sheath and digging it into his shoulder.

He howled as he ripped himself away from you, turning to wrench the metal from his back, no doubt causing more damage than you had. His eyes darkened, and a sick smirk found its way onto his face. You took these few precious seconds to grab your second flint lock and-

Jammed. Of fucking course. He pounced, his growing claws digging into you as he pressed you into the dirt. You swore you felt his teeth graze your jugular vein, and his already vibrant eyes looked brighter than the sun. You think he was going to say something, but you didn’t give him the chance. You grabbed a conveniently placed rock and slammed it into the side of his head instead, dazing him.

You managed to roll him off you and scramble to your feet. You noticed the way he lurched forward, and the twitching in his back. He was turning. You looked up at the nearly full moon and cursed. While Alphas could technically turn any night they wanted, their power grew with the moon. Their animal instincts intensified with lunar lunacy. A turned werewolf on a full moon night was at its most deadly. And while it may not have been the full moon yet, it was close enough that you knew you didn’t want to deal with a Transformed Chris.

And Chris was transforming. Fast. You watched the way his muscles contorted, his bone structure changed, and his skin ripped, only to show shiny black fur hiding underneath. 

Okay, new plan: Run. Run like hell as fast as you can. Logically you knew this was fucking stupid. You weren’t going to outrun a werewolf, and activating his prey drive was probably the worst possible thing you could have done in this situation. You knew that. But in your hubris induced rage you had come to this encounter woefully unprepared. 

You’d gotten too comfortable with the idea that Chris wouldn’t kill you. You had both had countless opportunities to end all of this in the past. To finally take the other one out. And you never had. You’d hurt each other of course, left your respective marks and scars littered all over the other's body. But neither of you had ever pulled the metaphorical plug on the whole operation. 

But that look. That darkness that clouded his normally vibrant eyes. You’d never seen that in him before. And it terrified you just as much as it excited you. Much to your dismay. Much to your extreme dismay. You really hoped this whole experience wasn’t going to awaken anything in you, but that was going to have to be an issue for future you.

If you survived tonight that is. You heard a shrill howl pierce the relative silence of the forest, and you forced your legs to run faster. You could hear him tearing through the foliage behind you, a predator locked in on its prey. You made the mistake of glancing back, only to see a mass of black fur, snarling teeth and hunger in hot pursuit. You involuntarily let out a yelp as you took a sharp right turn, hoping to lose him.

You heard the unbearably loud crack of a tree snapping behind you as he no doubt ran into it, going far too fast to make a turn as quick as you did. The odds of that stopping him were slim, and you knew that. You forced yourself into a full on sprint, ignoring the burning in your lungs and the stitch in your side. Ignoring the sounds of snarling that only seemed to get closer, and the tightness in your chest.

What you couldn’t ignore was the sudden, intense pain of your leg muscles seizing up, the improperly healed injury forcing you into submission. You screeched as you collapsed to the cold ground, cursing Leon, Chris, your body. Yourself. You tried to get back to your feet, only for your leg to refuse any amount of weight you tried to put on it. You were going to die here. Mauled to death by a creature you vowed to kill, but got too comfortable with instead.

Maybe you deserved this. Maybe this is what you got for breaking the Hunters Vow, and refusing to kill Chris Redfield when you had the chance. You wondered if he’d at least have the decency to kill you before devouring you. 

The air was knocked out of you for the second time that night as an animal crashed into you. Chris. He grabbed you, manhandling you into a position under him despite your weak attempts to fight him off. He pressed you flat on your back, towering over you and caging you in his arms. You’d taken a moment to look at him. You’d seen his wolf before, normally in the middle of a fight, but this looked…different. 

He was bigger, and looked feral. His elongated face snarled down at you, shockingly white fangs gleaming in the moonlight. You found it almost comical that the dogtags still hung from his neck, albeit fitting much more like a collar now. You locked eyes with him, refusing to show fear even in your final moments. You weren’t sure what made you sicker, the cloud of hunger you found there- or the lucidity that was behind it.

He growled and lunged down. As determined as you were not to show fear, you flinched- closing your eyes and jerking your head to the side. You braced for the feeling of teeth ripping muscle from bone, but it never came. Instead you heard him inhale sharply, and felt a soft tongue lap at the side of your neck. You forced your eyes open, looking at him as best as you could with your head forced to stay in place.

He nuzzled into your neck as if it was home. You felt a little lost here. You had expected murder feel more painful and violent, less…Intimate. You definitely didn’t expect it to make you stir the way it did. You’d press your thighs together if there wasn’t a giant, bowed leg keeping them apart. So this was going to awaken something in you. Great.

 “Stupid bitch,” he growled, low, and in the back of his throat, “coming after me smelling like that, knowing she’s in heat.” You were reasonably sure you weren’t supposed to hear that, despite him rambling literally right next to your ear.  You were caught up on what he said though. Heat? Humans don’t go into heat, surely he knew that. The closest they got was ovula-

Oh. Everything fell into place. Your breath caught in your throat as you realized what he was after. You squirmed, trying to get out from under him only for him to hold you tighter. Surely you could at least have a conversation about this first, but the more you tried to claw your way out of his grasp the more insistent he seemed to get, growling as he held you in place. 

“Chris,” You forced the word out, still out of breath from your struggle before, not to mention the strain on your neck. You felt his clawed hands caress your side, felt him lick your neck again, sending a whole new wave of embarrassing heat rolling through your body. He dragged his teeth across your jugular, the threat of violence loud and clear.

He pressed his hips into yours, and you gasped. You’d be lying if you said you’d never imagined what he might have been working with before, both out of and in wolf form. Even at your most generous, you couldn’t have predicted what was pressing into you now. He bucked his hips again, chasing any friction he could get, undeniably desperate for you.

You bit your lip. You shouldn’t want this. It was one thing to fail a hunt, it was another to willingly be fucked by one of these monsters. It went against everything you were raised to believe, everything you had dedicated your life to. To covet Chris was to covet damnation itself. Maybe that was why it took you eight years to admit you’d wanted him since the first time he dug his claws into you. 

As sinful and impetuous as it was, you could beg for forgiveness later. You rolled your hips up into his, and you swore you felt what might have been a laugh in his chest, but it came out distorted and wrong. “Knew you wanted me,” He groaned.

His mouth covered yours, forcing you into a kiss that was all teeth. One of his hands found its way to the small of your back, pressing you up and as close into his chest as he could get you. It was like he was trying to crawl into your skin, as if no matter how close you were it would never be close enough. 

You reached up to pull at his fur, looking for any sort of leverage you could get in this exchange. He groaned and bit your lip hard enough to draw blood. You yelped at the sudden pain, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, desperate to taste every inch of you that he could reach. You moaned helpless against him, lungs burning but unwilling to try and pull away. You were a little embarrassed by how quickly you gave into him, but in your defense Chris was incredibly warm, and surprisingly soft compared to the cold hard ground he had you pinned too.

His claws cut through your pants like a warm knife through butter, the sound of denim shredding reminding you just how sharp those claws were. The same claws that gripped your now bare thigh, hiking it up on his side to give him access to you. He rolled his hips into you, dragging his tent- hardly contained by his own barely existent cargos- against your heat. You yelped, equal parts excited and embarrassed as he reached down and ran the pads of his fingers along the damp spot in your panties.

He moaned, something dark and possessive making itself known, mixed with his lust. You were so wet for him already, and he’d hardly even touched you. He shouldn’t have been shocked. You were his mate after all, even if you didn’t know it yet. Of course your body was ready for him, of course it wanted him. Still, a little ego boost never hurt anybody.

He cut a slit in your underwear, and sucked in a sharp breath. He felt almost dizzy, drunk off the full force of your scent with nothing left to hide behind. You had to have known what you did to him. You had to have known what you were doing, showing up smelling like honey and sin. You had to have known it was going to end like this. 

He felt what little self control he had left in him try to flee. He held onto it by a thread, reminding himself that you were still just a delicate little human. He had to be careful not to rip you apart. He pressed you deeper into the mud, lowering himself between your legs. 

You let out a yelp as he licked a strip along your slit, collecting your arousal on his tongue. “Cute.” He chuckled. Your pathetic slap against the back of his head was even cuter. Even when you were writhing under him you still had it in you to try and fight. He licked you again, separating your folds and pressing his tongue against your weeping cunt. You moaned above him, rutting your hips into his muzzle like the needy bitch you are. 

He pulled you closer, claws digging into your hips, leaving blood to trickle down your body in his wake. He easily pushed his tongue into you, groaning as you clenched around him, imagining that same clench around his cock. Your head fell back against the ground, hands scramblings to tangle themselves into his hair. 

Chris was able to reach places inside you no human mouth could even dream of, easily lapping at your g-spot. the sensation sent you reeling. You tried to ride his face, buck your hips against him to chase your high; but his grip on you held strong, leaving you to whimper and beg for him pathetically. 

You felt light headed, climax building on itself faster than you could have predicted. It was like Chris instinctively knew every soft spot your body had to offer him, and was more than happy to bully the hell out of it. To twist, turn, and mold you into exactly what he wanted you to be, to get exactly the reaction he wanted out of you. He growled, pulling you closer to him. You pulled his hair in return, earning you a deep moan from him.

He pulled back enough to become more targeted with his snout, the padded skin now rubbing your clit with intention. Your legs started to tense up, the coil in your stomach tightening to the point of snapping. You let out a truly embarrassing sound. Luckily, you didn’t have to hear it, the feeling of euphoria washing over you and drowning out anything that wasn’t bliss or Chris. He licked you through your high, dragging it out for as long as possible, and leaving you a shaking mess in the aftermath.

You looked at him with hazy eyes as he finally pulled fully away, muzzle slick with your arousal. Your heart caught in your throat as you realized what you’d done. It was unforgivable to lay with the beast you were supposed to kill. He didn’t give you much time to think about the deeper implications though, before he careened down, pulling you into another facsimile of a kiss. Your taste was still thick on his tongue, mixing with his own and leaving you breathless.

You’d hardly noticed him all but ripping his pants down, until you felt him pressing into you. The stretch was enough to leave you screaming. No matter how prepped you were for him, you were only human, a fact that your body was actively trying to remind you of. “Chris!” You shrieked as he shoved himself inside you, with zero care to take things any slower than he already had. “Chris, it’s too much, I can't-!”

“You can.” He started moving, leaving you with zero time to try and adjust to his size. Tears sprung to your eyes as you desperately tried to accommodate him. “You were made for me, you can handle it,” He groaned, relief rolling over his shoulders as he finally got to feel you around him. He lapped your tears away, positioning himself to hit the sweet spot inside you he’d discovered earlier.

Slowly your body started to welcome him, the pain of being ripped in half ebbing away in favor of the mindless pleasure of being so full you swore you could feel him in your throat. He fucked you as if he had a map of your body, like he instinctively knew exactly where to push to make you see stars. Your cries morphed into moans, and before you knew it you were rolling your hips in time with his.

“That’s it Pup,” Chris groaned, completely lost in you. He was overwhelmed; your decadent smell, your pretty sounds, the divine feeling of your warm little cunt quivering around him. For all the times he’d fantasized about you, even his wildest dream couldn’t come close to the real thing. “You’re taking me so well, feel so good. You were made for me.” He praised.

His words went straight to your core, a storm building up inside of you faster than you’d care to admit. Every animalistic thrust of his hips managed to hit you exactly where you needed him too, and you could feel your second orgasm of the night coming on. A heat was mounting between your trembling thighs, and it only intensified as Chris’s hand fell to where the two of you met, using the back of his knuckle to massage your clit. 

It sent you over the edge, a crack of lightning so intense you felt the aftershocks pulse from your center to your fingertips. Waves of euphoria capsizing your little boat and drowning you in the ecstasy. It pulled Chris over his own edge. The smell of your arousal mixing with the feeling of you clenching around him, trying to pull him deeper had him spilling over and painting your insides white as he growled your name. 

You were still catching your breath, waiting for the world to stop whirling around you and for him to pull out when his voice finally cut through the fog. Rough, low, and still thick with need. “Still with me Pup?”

You nodded, and were treated to a growl in response. “Yeah,” You finally said, “I’m here.”

You felt him lick your pulse point before he started to move again. “Good,” He grunted as he folded you in half. It was only then you realized he was still rock hard inside of you, and your heart rate picked up again, “Cause it’s gonna take more than that to knock you up.”

You considered protesting for a split second. But, before the thought could fully form he had you folded into a mating press. And at that point he could have told you the two of you were going to burn your entire village to the ground and fuck on the ashes and you would have been down. Wasn’t all that unappealing of an idea actually. He was pressing against places you didn’t even know existed in you, he could do whatever the fuck he wanted at this point.

Chris set a ruthless pace, seemingly lasered in on his personal mission. Every relentless rut of his hips had his cock massaging your g spot and kissing your cervix. Every movement sending an overwhelming shock of pleasure through you, so intense it almost hurt. You were thankful you were in the middle of the woods, because if you were anywhere near civilization and the entire settlement would know. 

You hadn’t even realized you were crying until Chris licked the tears from your cheeks. You didn’t realize you’d been gripping his fur so tight, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you. You felt so small under him, left to his whims and helpless to do anything while he ruined human men for you forever. Nothing was ever going to feel like this again. 

“Pretty little Pup,” He groaned, rocking into you so perfectly you knew you weren’t going to last long. “So good for me, feels so good. Gonna take my knot like a good girl?”

You didn’t even think twice. “Yes, Chris please, need it.” you gasped. You wanted so badly to be good for him, to be whatever he wanted you to be so this happened again. 

You barely registered how dangerously close to your neck his fangs were. You were too focused on the feeling of his knot swelling, somehow stretching you more. The lewd sound of him fucking his cum back into you almost drowned out his growling. Almost.

“Perfect little Pup, and all fucking mine.” The way he said it definitely went beyond dirty talk, but you were in no position to pick up on that. “All fucking mine, my mate, mine.” He was losing himself, the moon pulling him away from coherent thought and leaving him with little more than the animalistic fuck his mate into oblivion. 

“Knew it from the first time I smelled you, knew you were mine. Say it, Say. It.” 

“Yours Chris, all yours.” You were hardly in the headspace to fully grasp what he was saying, the dopamine and oxytocin drowning out any sense of reason you may have had. Your body felt like an electrical fire, every nerve ending alive with feeling. You were driving towards a cliff at 200 miles per hour and had no intention to stop. Your limbs were shaking with anticipation, you really felt like you might have burned alive if he stopped now.

And Chris was just as gone. The look of you alone, tear stained and breathless in his arms, could have gotten him off. He watched his bulge appear and reappear in your stomach with every thrust, watched your eyes glaze over with dazed pleasure, felt the way your warm cunt hugged him perfectly and fuck who needed heroine? This was better than any drug he could have imagined. 

He decided then that he was taking you home tonight. 

You pulled at his fur, the bliss building inside of you, twisting in on itself and threatening to snap. When it hit you, it hit you like a tidal wave, suffocating and all at once. You didn’t hear the scream you let out, barely registered the way your legs tried to wrap around the monster that was on top of you. Your head felt like it was full of cotton and your veins were full of stars. You watched galaxies be born before your very eyes.

What you did register was his knot locking you in place as he tried to fuck you through your high. Felt the way his already impossibly tight grip tightened, claws digging into your soft skin, surly leaving you bruised and bleeding. You felt him filling you again for the second time that night, and were a little ashamed to admit how right it felt.

You felt his teeth sink into your neck to muffle his own howl. Not deep enough to kill, but deep enough to draw blood. Deep enough to infect. You’d like to say that you yelled, tried to pull him off and went to immediately seek treatment. Time was limited after all, if you wanted to avoid lycanthropy. 

You wanted to say all of these things. In reality your hand found the back of his skull to hold him closer. You struggled to catch your breath and reorient yourself. Chris gently lapped the blood from your neck, trying to soothe the ache there. He was muttering something, but you were barely paying attention. You were more focused on the fact he was already rocking his hips back into yours.  

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

You weren’t sure when you fell asleep. And if you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t totally sure where you woke up, jerking out of bed with a sharp gasp. Your head jerked around, trying to get a grasp on your surroundings. It was a simple room, barely lived in. As if whoever had set up camp here didn’t plan to stay for long. You sat up straighter, listening to the bustling noise from the other side of the door. It sounded like a decently sized family was descending into chaos. It sound like-

It sounded like a pack of wolves. You went cold. You looked down, only to discover stainless steel dog tags dangling from your neck, and that you were wearing an oversized shirt you didn’t recognize. You could guess who it belonged to though. You had a sinking feeling. You took a closer look at the tags around your neck.

Redfield.

Chris J.

315-05-4075

O Neg

NO REL PREF

No surprises there, but just to be sure you reached up to your neck. Sure enough, you felt the unmistakable divots of a wolf bite, flinching at the fresh sting. So last night wasn’t an extremely vivid dream. Great. 

As if on cue Chris chose then to show up, slipping through the door with two cups of coffee in hand. You wished that seeing him filled you with rage, or revoltion. Or at least some deep sense of guilt. Sadly though, the only thing you felt when you looked at his adoring smile was a warm sense of safety. He looked mostly human again, a far cry from what mounted you last night.

“Hey, I thought I heard you waking up,” He said. Jesus, he had good hearing. He came over and settled next to you on the bed, handing you the mug. You’d ask how he knew your coffee preferences later. For now, you were just happy for the caffeine.

You nodded to him, taking a drink of the coffee. He gently rubbed your back, looking you over, carefully assessing the damage. “How you feeling?”

“Okay I guess,” you muttered, “A little sore.” 

“That’s to be expected.”

[rosenclaws]

Heey! I think your requests are closed, but when you open them, do you think you could write about Logan (any variant) with a reader who has a bad relationship with food? I kinda need the comfort right now, I have to eat to survive, but I hardly ever want to eat, and when I do I feel guilty about it, specially if it's not something super healthy or low cal.

I think Logan would be a really good partner and show support, make sure his partner eats well or doesn't slip meals and even cooks for them :')

Hi! Absolutely I can, I understand what you're going through and I want to know that you're loved and you have my full support <3 I picked origins Logan for this, he just gives off the softest vibes and would be a completely supportive and sweet partner. It's a little short and I apologize but I hope it helps <33

warnings: eating disorder/bad relationship with food, please don't read if this would possibly trigger you

Logan could tell something was off from the moment he walked through the door. His stomach rumbled as he smelled whatever delicious meal you were making for dinner. As he entered the kitchen he saw you pulling a pan out of dinner. Lasagna, his favorite.

"Smells fucking amazing," He purrs as he wraps his hands around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

He still smells like pine needle and dirt from work. Normally he doesn't get back till way past dinner time but today was an easy day. How lucky he gets to eat dinner with the love of his life huh?

"Logan! You scared me." You huff as you gently push his arms off your body.

"Go clean up dinners almost ready." He frowns as you shoo him away.

Lately things have just felt off. You smiled and laughed like you always do but there were little things that just didn't feel right. Especially around meal times.

"Okay sweetheart, I'll be right back." Logan can't help but wonder what could possibly be wrong.

Are you sick? Is something bothering you? If so why wouldn't you tell him? Worries start to invade his thoughts. What could be going on that you can't even go to him about it? After a quick shower and a change of clothes he heads back to the kitchen. Only to see one plate of food sitting on the counter.

"I made it with the sauce you like, not the off brand one." You say with a smile but Logan's worry remains. He sits at the counter and takes the plate.

"Where's yours?" He asks. Your face falls for just a second. Anyone else would have missed it but not Logan. Not when it comes to you.

"Not hungry." You try and play it off, pushing the plate closer but Logan grabs your wrist.

"Logan, I had a big lunch. I'll eat later." You try and tug out of Logan's grip but he remains firm. Never enough to hurt you but enough to keep you there. To keep you from running away.

"I don't believe you. In fact, I've barely seen you eat anything in the last couple months."

The memories come flooding back. He's seen you eat, but its never much and it's always healthy. Shame starts to creep into his bones as he realizes he's failed to put the pieces together. All this time.

"Please sweetheart, whatever is going on you can tell me." Tears start to well up in your eyes as Logan speaks.

You never meant for him to find out. You thought you could handle this on your own. You had been so careful and eat just enough so that he never caught on. But the truth is you're exhausted. Food is nothing more that a means to survive. Everyday you force yourself to eat just enough and no more. Its been exhausting. Especially if the food you eat is too many calories or just plain unhealthy.

Logan almost jumps across the counter the moment he sees the tears, fearing the worst. He abandons his dinner in favor of wrapping you in his arms on the couch. Cooing softly as you cry and explain everything to him. He doesn't say a word, he just listens. Rubbing your back and letting you soak his shirt with tears.

When you're done you prepare for the worst. What if Logan leaves? I mean it would certainly be easier for him to not have to deal with. All of this. But he doesn't. With gentle hands he cups your face and dries your tears.

"I'm so sorry." He mumbles. Sorry that he didn't notice sooner and sorry you've been carrying this for so long.

"Are you mad?" You ask quietly.

"No, of course not." Logan presses a kiss to your forehead.

"Listen honey, this isn't healthy." He knows that you know that but its not as easy as just a flip of a switch to change habits that had been built for years.

"I'm going to be with you every step of the way alright?" He says, tilting your head up so you can look him in the eyes. He wants you to know that he truly means every word.

"Okay," Logan pulls you into a tight hug, whispering sweet words over and over. He wishes he could take all your pain away in an instant. He'd bear it for you without even asking, but he can't.

But he stays true to his promise. Logan is there when you need him, to remind you to eat and taking it upon himself to make meals for you and with you. Some days were harder than others but Logan carried the weight you couldn't.

Things still aren't easy, but with Logan by your side you think you might be able to do anything.

[cripplecharacters]

Hello! I hope you guys are having a good day :) [Smiley face]

I'm writing a story and one of the main characters has CPTSD, and I had a few questions about it. I think I might have CPTSD but I'm not able to get evaluated right now.

I know you say we can do whatever we want when writing about our own conditions, but since I'm not actually diagnosed I wanted to double check things.

Relevent character info: She's been in therapy on-and-off for about 5 years (she had a therapist, stopped seeing him because she moved, and then started seeing a new one) and her trauma revolves around being abused/neglected as a child, witnessing violence, and having assassins sent after her.

Question 1

If she's been in therapy for a years and has a very good therapist, would it make sense that she's able to better deal with stressful/traumatic situations when they come up? Like, being more "resiliant" to being triggered I guess?

For example, she ends up having to work with a group of people, and initially she worries that they might be assassins that were sent after her, but she later realizes that they're not.

Would it make sense for her to not be as hypervigilant/wary around them after realizing this, and more willing to get to know them, and slowly sharing more information about herself as time goes on? Especially if they're also telling her about their past and showing her that she can trust them?

I know that trauma and triggers aren't exactly "logical" sometimes (like being scared of something even though you know it's harmless) so I don't want it to come off as "Well she was scared but then she realized she was being silly so now she's fine lol!"

Should I maybe have her mention to one of them something like "Yeah if I met you guys years ago I would have refused to trust any of you, but therapy really helped me with my issues"?

Question 2

This is sort of related to question one.

I've read that one big thing that determines whether or not someone is traumatized by something/develops PTSD is whether or not they recieve adequate support after the traumatizing event.

So for example, if someone is in a car accident and then they recieve a lot of support from friends/family/therapists, they'll be less likely to develop PTSD VS someone who is in a car accident and then given no support.

In the story, there's a lot of bad things going on. But this time, instead of only having one or two friends to help comfort her, she has a very good therapist and large support network who are there for her.

Would this help prevent her from being further traumatized or making her symptoms worse?

Question 4

Is there a specific order in which symptoms get "fixed"? Like for example, if someone has nightmares, flashbacks, and hypervigilance, would it be possible that their nightmares and flashbacks are less of a problem after treatment, but they're still hypervigilant?

She generally doesn't have issues with nightmares or flashbacks unless extremely stressed or triggered by something specific, but she still has emotional regulation issues (quick to fly off the handle and get mad) and she's quite wary and hypervigilant, especially around people she's doesn't know.

I just wanted to make sure that that behavior makes sense.

She used to be very quiet and people please-y but after therapy she started standing up for herself more, and now she sort of went in the other direction. So instead of just taking everything quietly, she's quick to speak her mind and she's not afraid to defend herself.

Question 5

During the story, she ends up falling in love with one of the people she had to work with, and they start dating about a month after meeting.

I don't want to fall into the "The power of love cures mental illness and now they're all better" trope, so I want to make sure that I show her having occasional symptoms even though she's been doing really well in therapy.

I know it's kind of hard to say since healing doesn't really work on a scale of "0% healed, having a bad time" to "100% healed, no symptoms" but for someone who's been in therapy for years, how often would she still experience symptoms, and what would they be?

I was thinking of showing that she's mostly okay, but still having the occasional nightmare, intrusive thought, flashback, etc.

Hello!

Before I get into the specific questions you have, I just want to give a general disclaimer about PTSD/C-PTSD.

Trauma and trauma disorders are very complex and vary greatly from person to person. The diagnoses for both PTSD and C-PTSD are fairly new (PTSD was only added to the DSM in 1980 and C-PTSD has not yet been added) and the effect that trauma has on the brain is still yet to be fully understood.

I'm speaking from both my own experiences and my own knowledge on the topic as well as some additional research to ensure my information is up-to-date.

Throughout the post, I do mostly refer to PTSD instead of C-PTSD. This is because C-PTSD is generally considered to be a sub-type of PTSD so what I'm describing will generally apply to both. Though there are differences between C-PTSD and PTSD, there isn't exactly a single, commonly agreed upon list of them.

In general, C-PTSD is believed to stem from long-term, repeated/chronic trauma (especially when the brain is still developing) while PTSD comes from a singular event or several separate events. Of course, because C-PTSD isn't in the DSM yet, there are many people who have been diagnosed with PTSD but may better fit the label of C-PTSD.

Personally, I was diagnosed with PTSD as well as a several other trauma-based/trauma-related disorders. My psychologist believes that C-PTSD would be more fitting for what I'm experiencing but, because it's not commonly used in my area, deferred to PTSD.

Interestingly enough, C-PTSD is often mistakenly called "childhood PTSD" because it's most frequently seen in victims of childhood abuse/trauma.

Question 1

Although it doesn't work for everyone, having a good therapist and attending therapy sessions regularly can certainly have a positive effect on trauma and PTSD in general.

Some of the main things that therapists can do include:

Helping your character to recognize when they are becoming triggered.

Helping your character to pinpoint some of the situations that may trigger them.

Working with your character to develop strategies for dealing with their triggers and the feelings that they bring up.

Working with your character to open up about and process their trauma.

Being a safe person to vent to.

Helping your character to navigate difficult situations that arise and helping them to separate their rational thoughts/beliefs on the situation from their initial, trauma-based responses*.

*As an example: A character with trauma from an abusive relationship has a big fight with their new partner. Their first instinct might be to pack their things and leave before their partner gets the chance to hurt them. A therapist can help them recognize that their current partner has never behaved aggressively towards them and identify the ways that this situation is different from their past relationship (They have a stronger support system, they're in therapy, they live in a place with different views on abuse, etc.). With trauma, the past and present often end up blurred -- especially when the present starts to mirror the past -- and it can be difficult to separate the two without help. A therapist can provide this help.

While these things may not make your character immune or even more resilient to being triggered, they can help your character manage it and navigate the situation when it does happen.

Considering the example you gave, I think it could work but there are some other things to consider here:

Why does she originally suspect them of being assassins? Is this something that she suspects all new people of or did they do something specific to trigger the belief? For example, maybe the assassins she encountered tried to poison her and the new people keep offering her food.

How long does it take her to realize that they aren't assassins? What kind of thought process does she go through during this time? Did she speak with her therapist during this time? What does her therapist have to say about it?

What made her realize they aren't assassins? Was it something logical (For example: She uncovers information that proves they aren't assassins) or is it more emotional in nature (For example: She makes a connection with them/bonds with them and starts to trust them)? Are her doubts completely assuaged with this or is she still a bit suspicious in the back of her mind -- even sub-consciously?

It would make sense for her to grow more trusting and open with them as time goes on but, from a PTSD standpoint, trust alone doesn't really have much of an effect on hypervigilance.

Being wary and being hypervigilant are two very different things. The way I usually describe it to people is that wariness is more conscious -- hypervigilance isn't. Even when I'm with somebody I trust, I'll still flinch when they come up behind me unexpectedly -- even if I know it's them. It's a physical response, not something that I can necessarily turn off.

Although your character's wariness may be assuaged, their hypervigilance wouldn't necessarily be something that is eased by trust.

While I do think that having her mention her therapy journey is a good idea (especially considering the fact that there's still a stigma around therapy), I wouldn't rely on it to get your point across about her trauma and trust issues not being an immediate fix.

Instead, I'd encourage you to show how it's a longer process:

Maybe she still has some lingering suspicions/doubts about them on a sub-conscious level and has to mentally talk herself out of them ("You've known these people a long time. They're making coffee for everyone, not just you so the likelihood that they're trying to poison you specifically is low."). While trauma isn't necessarily logical, using logic against these kinds of thoughts can be helpful.

Maybe she still has a physical reaction to something that triggers her. For example, she goes into the kitchen and one of her new coworkers turns around with a knife in their hand from where they'd been cutting food and she stumbles back/gasps because she isn't prepared for it. Not every trigger has to result in a major flashback -- being triggered can just look like your body going "wait a second, I've been in this situation before and it's not safe. Let's take a few steps back until we know it's safe".

If the story is in first person, I'd encourage you to explore her thoughts on the new people, both at the beginning when she distrusts them and later on when she begins to trust them more.

You could also show how she uses some of the tools she's learned in therapy such as self-regulation techniques like grounding exercises or controlled breathing or even just recognizing when she's getting triggered and doing something about it. Depending on what kind of person she is, this could look like her making an excuse to be alone for a moment ("I'm just going to run to the washroom quickly.") or speaking up about her situation ("Just... give me a minute, okay?" or "Wait. I need a second.").

I'd advise against having her explicitly state what is happening ("I'm getting triggered right now." or "I'm starting to have a panic attack.") for a few reasons:

The first being that -- for the most part -- people don't naturally speak like that, especially not when they're already stressed out. A lot of the time, it's not always evident what exactly is happening. The beginning of a panic attack can feel a lot like a spike of anxiety or an increase in hypervigilance.

The other big thing is that words like "triggered", "panic attack", and other mental health-related terms have a history of misuse behind them (Ex: People using "triggered" to mean offended, people using "OCD" to mean neat/organized, etc.). As a result, you run the risk of giving your readers the wrong impression when using them in this context -- especially in dialogue.

One other thing I'll mention is to keep in mind that changing therapists can be very stressful and set your character back a few steps, especially since they have to build that relationship with their therapist again. Keep that in mind when you consider the timeline for these events. If she has just changed therapists, she may not be comfortable enough approaching them about this yet.

Question 2

We don't yet know what specifically causes somebody to develop PTSD. In a broad sense, it's a traumatic event but there are so many different factors at play that can determine whether or not somebody is traumatized, develops PTSD, or develops another trauma-based disorder.

You are right that the level of support somebody gets after a traumatic incident can have an impact -- but there are so many other factors too such as:

The event itself including the duration, the type of incident, their involvement in it (as a witness, a victim, a rescuer, etc.), etc.

Their age and brain development. A child who witnessed somebody's death but was too young to really understand what was happening would have a vastly different experience than an adult who was fully aware of it. Something to keep in mind, however, is that while children were generally considered to be more resilient to trauma than adults, that isn't necessarily true*.

The specific individual -- including their personality, resilience, past experiences/history, pre-existing disabilities and other conditions, etc.

Their experiences during the trauma. There's a common misconception that people develop PTSD only when they don't believe help is coming (for example, being stuck in a car accident in the middle of nowhere). This isn't exactly true but it can have an effect.

Now, on to your actual question: That depends.

Along with the factors mentioned above, their current situation should also be considered. If they're on a series of busy missions and don't have the time to actually process their trauma, they'll have a harder time with healing than they would if they were able to take it easy and process things at their own pace.

While her therapist and support system can absolutely help her manage the more recent trauma, her past experiences in therapy and the skills/tools she's learned can also benefit her -- both in the traumatic moment and after the fact.

In short: Yes, it could make sense that she's more resilient to this new experience than she was to her original trauma.

*There's a great book by Bruce Perry (the child psychologist) that talks about this. It's called The Boy Who Was Raised as a Dog and it's a heavy read but a good one.

Question 4

Something that's important to remember about PTSD and C-PTSD is that the trauma can never be fully "fixed" or healed.

Trauma -- especially complex and long-term trauma -- has lasting effects on a person's brain. It changes the way we think, the way we approach new situations, the way we deal with stress. Some types of trauma can even have an impact on the way our kid's brains develop [Link].

While therapies, medication, and support can make a difference and cause symptoms to lessen (or disappear entirely), the trauma will still have lasting effects.

In terms of the order that symptoms get resolved, this is something that varies so greatly from person-to-person that I can't give you an actual answer.

The other thing is that healing from anything (especially something as messy and complex as trauma) isn't as straightforward as it seems. Even with the proper treatment, symptoms don't just decrease steadily or in order.

You may have heard the phrase "progress isn't linear" before. This is very applicable to PTSD and C-PTSD. There will always be setbacks or stumbles or relapses. You can go for years without having a flashback or nightmare and then one day be triggered enough for it to happen. You're still healing, it's just not a straight path.

In your character's case, it could absolutely make sense for her symptoms to lessen at different rates. That said, I'd be wary about portraying it as a straightforward path.

Although recovery is complicated and it's normal to relapse/stumble/have a setback, it's frequently portrayed as a straightforward path and characters rarely experience these setbacks -- which is very discouraging when you're actually recovering from trauma.

Question 5

You might be getting sick of me saying this by now but: ✨it depends!✨

The experience you described (with her occasional nightmares/flashbacks/etc.) is one possibility but it's definitely not the only one.

Somebody can be in therapy for just as long and still experience the same amount of symptoms they did when they first started. Likewise, somebody can have that same experience (with the occasional nightmares/flashbacks/etc.) after only being in therapy for a couple months.

It is important to remember that therapy doesn't get rid of symptoms -- it just helps you process them and teaches you how to cope with them. In some cases, this can cause a decrease in symptoms (for example, talking about an experience can help you process it and decrease the amount of nightmares you have about it) but it doesn't directly get rid of symptoms.

Also worth noting is that therapy doesn't work for everybody and that there are so many other ways of managing PTSD and trauma in general. Some people benefit more from medication (usually anti-anxiety meds or antidepressants) or other types of therapy (such as eye-movement or narrative therapies).

Of course, there are also people that cope with their trauma in ways that aren't generally considered "healthy" such as substance use, risk-taking behaviours, self-harm, etc.

Although therapy is becoming more popular and more openly talked about, I think it's important to acknowledge that there's not just one "right" way to healing from, coping with, and processing trauma.

Cheers,

~ Mod Icarus

[mellowwillowy]

𝐃𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬

Your lover is forced to work far away from you and they are just not having it! They should be breathing the same air as you and not be put far away! Alas, they don't have a choice but to finish this errand quick.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 is not having it. Being away from you for a long time for this silly field trip wannabe? Why must his loyal, mafia ass-shit client get himself into another trouble that requires him to work on-site, away from the house, away from you?

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 will actually make a manual on handling every possibility that he could think of happening to you and hand it to his men and the maids working. What to do if Spouse doesn't want to eat? What to do if Spouse is suddenly sick? What to do if Spouse is throwing tantrum-

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 bets that anyone who upset Spouse while he was away will have their fingers removed, the number of fingers removed depends on how fatal their mistake was although he was positive that his and this annoying Mafia Ringleader's men are trained enough to prevent that from happening.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 will get you some gifts, lots of gifts. Really, he's a simple man. Oh and if by chance you two manage to have children, they only get 1/10 what he gets for you. Cry about it, brats.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 will turn all explosive toward anyone who slows down his work, your average angry demanding boss except that he doesn't explode with illogical bullshits. Might accidentally smack Kaspar (the client) once right in his face out of fuming anger.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 who will be all clingy (rare, very rare) once he gets home because dude. He was away for some time, looking at all these mf faces that were not even you. Give him lots of cuddles, and kisses and just treat him like a puppy for today because he will return to normal again the next day, IT'S YOUR ONLY CHANCE.

"Woah, you get a lot for me, dear. How about I share some with the kids?" (If you have it) "Sure, but I doubt they can use any of it." Yulian replies nonchalantly as he watches you unwrap everything. He is a menace for purposely picking up stuff the kids won't be able to use (haha!).

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 gets all grumpy for it! Do they think it's fun having to trick you into allowing him to go on this shitty field trip? Ohhh come on now, you know he works as some sort of programmer or hacker, one that definitely doesn't need him to work ON SITE!!

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 will have to force both of your friends (and his) to take care of you. As much as you all are close to each other, he is not a fan of letting them watch you in his stead. Sure, this close friend of yours is used to taking care of you, you once lived with him after all.

But the jealousy factor of not being able to manage everything is still there! And his childhood friend, she might have a bad influence on you for the month he is away! Sure, your friend will not allow that but he's just skeptical of everyone! He doesn't trust anyone but him holding the leash to your coll- ekhem, watching you.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 will get all explosive, irrationally too. Not only toward people who slow his work down but to all his men. Trust me, it was hell for everyone. One wrong word and a punch will meet their face~

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 will actually spare some time to get gifts for you and the others, of course, they only get a portion of what he gets for you. Will smile for once after a while at the thought of you unwrapping the presents eagerly and scare his men for a moment (Is boss finally losing it?)

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 will try his best to come home unscratched. Work is tough, yes but seeing you chiding him in worry is tougher! The more bruised up he is, the harder it'll be for him to slip out like an eel next time!

"Are you seriously only giving us these after all the troubles we have, taking care of your little friend?!" "God, look at what he got for you, let's swap." "Nuh-uh, get lost, Lemon." Blue cackles at the sight of you beaming from the gifts he hand-picked for you. Ah right, the gifts for the others are picked by his men since he can't be bothered about it.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐇𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫 is not a shady asshole like 𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 so no field trip.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 is rather indifferent about this. What can he do about this? Pass it and have people shoot him daggers from every angle for being irrational? Oh lol no, mon chèri. He values his life as much as he values yours.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 will station all his men to keep you safe and give everyone notice of 'whoever fucks up will have their head hung'. Effective enough to ensure the maids from doing anything dumb to you.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 is not as wary as Yulian but he is also not a lenient one as well. You get what the others get. Fuck around while he's away and find out what he has in store for you. Definitely not a pleasant one.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 will surprisingly get something for you though just one. Quality over quantity, he'll quote. He was just too busy and unbothered to get something for you out of no occasion going on. Besides, he could just get you some when he is more relaxed and not so on guard like this. Wouldn't want to get all bruised up or even dead just because he is in a hunt for presents!

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 is as normal as usual. No explosive behavior, this is his 'daily' work. He's used to being away from you and he is used to being absent from your presence. (Bro literally wait for you to awaken from your coma).

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 will smile at the sight of you unwrapping the said gift. He is content enough to see you awake and reacting to his gift, either with a scowl or a smile, it doesn't matter. What matters is that you are awake to see what he has bought for you.

"You know, I've always wished you could at least wake up and see the mountain of gifts I had prepared for you. But then I realized, no mountain of surprises would ever wake you up so I dusted it all down as a log of firewood." "You are just making up that story so that I will feel romantic about being given just a TRINKET?" 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐫 looks away from you comically while you shake him hard. That said, he means every word of it. (Angst baby)

Note: I am rolling, why is everyone here so petty? Yulian to his (if he has) kids, Blue to Lemon and Grape while Eleanor just 👨🏻‍🦯

[admirationandromantics]

Going overboard, Epilogue

(He looks so fine, I can't handle it. Can handle him though, just like you're about to do). Anyways, this is the final end of this story. This has been such a great experience, and I've loved writing it. I know many are waiting for the next one (which will be with Chris), but please give me some time to get started on that. Right now, I have a bunch of requests to take care of, which I will also be doing while posting the next story.

Again, thank you all for the encouragement and support throughout this, and don't worry. Josh is NOT gone, you can request as much as you want. Anyways, as always, my blog is 18+ and so is this post (hint hint) so just enjoy! <3

Luckily, I got to know that both Matt and Jessica survived. Mike was so happy when they told us. Jess looked like a wreak though, I’ve never seen her like that, physically or mentally. She told us that she didn’t think she’d survive if it weren’t for Matt. I’ve never seen gratitude like what I saw on Mike’s face that day. He went straight for Matt, pulling him into a hug, leaving him stunned. 

The police were quick to separate all of us, getting each one’s story. I told the truth, everything there was to say, but I don’t think they believed me. It hurt telling them about Josh. I feared that he’d serve time, that he would stay behind bars for a long time. They decided that there would be no trial, considering his mental state. I heard his laughter from the other room, crying by myself as I wondered what he would remember, and if the traumas we went through would be the drop that spilled the glass. They decided he was a danger to others and himself, and it didn’t take long to get him to a clinic and try some new medication. Again, after another traumatic trip to that damn mountain, I didn’t keep in touch with him. They didn’t let him use his phone, and the only people allowed to see him were his parents. After four months, they let Chris visit, but it had been a long time since I saw them, so I don’t think that letting me visit was even an option. 

The friend group split. I don’t know what happened with Emily and Matt, last I heard, they were still together, but that was a while ago. Jess and Mike broke up after a while. I heard it was bad, and Jessica was the one who made the cut. Sam still talked to him, so I got some info here and there, but he is not the sort of man I really wish to be in contact with. 

I still talk to Sam, and we continue our daily coffees, only now, we talk about the last events that happened on that cursed place. She seems like she’s falling down some rabbit hole about mythological creatures and folklore. I’ve told her that we should forget everything, that maybe talking to a therapist could be good for her. She doesn’t listen, and I’m just trying to keep her present, afraid that she’ll end up as Josh. Isolated, and supervised continuously. 

I’m often invited over for gaming nights with Chris and Ashley. The games vary, but it doesn’t always feel as welcoming as thought. I often feel like an intruder, like they would feel bad by hanging out together without me. I tried to talk to Ashley about it, but she assured me that they love me, and us being together is a good way to deal with everything. I still feel like a third wheel, sitting in the corner while they have flirty interactions or Chris steals a kiss. Still, they both feel bad for me, that much I’m sure of. One of the good things that come out of it is that Chris tells me about his visits. In the start, Josh had been confused and scared, pleading with him to get him out of there. Now, six months later, he was better, the medicine finally working and pieces falling back into place. He’s bored out of his mind, joking that if they didn’t give him at least a console, he would kill himself. Chris laughed when he said that, but my breath hitched and I suddenly felt unsure. Ashley noticed, walking over to me and telling me that Josh joking like this just meant that he felt better. They’d gotten used to my cries. I was never this bad before, but even though I didn’t have a reason, it still came out. Every day, several times. I had to lock myself in the bathroom or my bedroom to relieve myself. 

***

I cut the tomato in thin slices, arranging them in fine lines on the buttered toast. A knock is heard on the door. “Just walk in Sam, it’s open” I shout, knowing when she usually comes over on her morning run. I hear the door open, footsteps out of the hallway. I grab the salt, carefully shaking it over the tomato to not get too much. Two hands make their way around my waist, pulling me into a tight body. I stop breathing as I know that this is not Sam, this is a man’s body. I look down, hands looking awfully familiar. 

“Hey” he whispers against my ear, and I feel tears coating my eyes. I turn around, looking at a smiling Josh. 

“Hey” I answer, not able to hide the surprise in my voice. My hands travel behind his neck, locking him in place. His dark circles aren’t as bad anymore, and he does look quite healthy. I still don’t know what to say, shocked by his sudden presence. He smirks, tilting his head and looking at me with sceptical eyes. 

“Well, isn’t this a first time for you not knowing what to say”

“I-I”

“We’re getting there…”

“Hey, you bombarded me wi-” I’m interrupted by a kiss, his head moving in sync with mine, hunger, lust and eight months without contact pooling out as a stress-relief. He grabs me harder, taking hold of my thighs and lifting me up on the counter. God, I’ve missed him. My legs cross behind him, pulling him deeper into me. His lips are soft and warm, connecting with mine as I open my mouth a bit, letting him in deeper. I whine, feeling the tears fall from the corners of my eyes. His hands move to cup my face, thumbs brushing away the wetness. 

“We should probably talk” I say between sobs. 

“That’s why I came over” he answers, pulling away a bit. I waste no time, taking his arm and forcing him back, his lips on mine while I sob. His sisters, the prank, the wendigos, everything poured into me slowly coming out. 

“Sorry” I whisper. “You’ve just come out, this isn’t what you need right now” I squeak, trying to compose myself. 

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here, and I’m not leaving again”

This makes me break down even harder, being reminded that every time we rekindle, something gets in the way. He lays my head on his flannel-coated shoulder, letting me cry till I can’t breathe anymore. He holds me up, making sure that I don’t fall off the counter while leaving sweet small kisses on my forehead. When the air is finally quiet, he pulls away, thumbs rubbing my cheeks. I feel the mascara being smudged, though that’s more my fault than his. 

“God, I’d already gotten ready today, and now I guess I have to do it again” I laugh, trying to look a little presentable. 

“You’re beautiful” he whispers, awe in his eyes. I stop the tears and kiss him yet again. 

After a while, we make our way to the sofa, determined to talk about this now, to get it over with. I walk to the bathroom to freshen up. 

“Are you sure you need that? What if you start crying again?” he shouts from the living room. 

“Haha, I’ve gotten everything out now” I laugh back. 

“You sure? It would be awfully inconvenient for you to spend half of the time in the bathroom… alone…” 

“Almost done Josh!”

I walk back out, and he’s still spread out on the sofa. I sit down on top of him, holding his shoulders as I lean down to kiss him. His hands wander, gripping my thighs and ass. 

“You said we should talk?” I tease, knowing he’s getting riled up. 

“No, no, no, no. Fuck talking, let’s do this instead” he urges, gripping me harder and pressing me down on him. I want him so bad, but we do indeed have to talk. 

“We have to” I whisper. 

“I know”

The hours go by as we talk about the incident. I get especially emotional when we talk about the prank, how he tricked me, several times. He wasn’t in his right mindset, but he would do everything in his power to get me to trust him again. He had talked to the others, but the other part of the group decided not to keep in contact. It was a toxic friend group anyway, I comment. He talked about his time in the facility, how it was scary in the beginning, cause he didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t. Luckily, Chris had told him about the wendigos, but he still had to pretend they didn’t exist and they were a figment of his imagination when they did his mental evaluation. He just wanted to put everything behind him, and move forward. After a while, the mood lightens, as we stop talking about the deep stuff. 

“You hit me!” he laughs, hitting me in the arm. 

“Well, I thought you were a fucking Psycho!” I defend myself. 

“That wasn’t the only time!”

“The way you were talking? You asked for it!” 

“You know, I should really come up with a revenge plan for you”

“Let’s not forget about what you did”

“Nah, that doesn’t count, I was insane”

“You can’t play the mentally ill-card on this”

“Yes I can”

I hit him again, and he grabs my arms, lifting them behind him, causing me to fall flat down on his stomach. 

“I think, maybe we’ll go to the bedroom, you get undressed, and I can start leaving some marks on you” he whispers, fingers still entwined with mine. 

“Really, what kind of marks are we talking about?” I skeptically ask, looking up at him. 

“Maybe a bit similar to the ones you left on me, just without the wood” 

“You’re sadistic”

“Some things can’t be cured”

I reach up to him, straddling his lap and kissing him. 

“Got something else planned?”

“Eight months gave me time to think”

“And what are your thoughts?”

“Something about you, tied up, blindfolded, begging me to touch you…” he starts, and I feel myself getting wetter. His breathing is hot, and he can’t stop staring at my lips. I smile, slowly grinding on him. Making him let out a groan. “Fuck, and then I’ll teach you a lesson” he says, hands moving to my thighs to help the movements. I bite my lip, eager to get into it, to let him get into me. 

“Fucking hell, you need to stop that” he whines. 

“You’re the one leading me” I tease, caressing his arms, making him aware of his grip on my thighs. I lean forward, kissing his neck, small pecks all over. He makes a small whimpering sound when I kiss him right below his ear, so I bite down. He jolts, giving out a loud moan. I kiss the pain away, lightly sucking. His hands wander under my shirt, grabbing my waist. In response, I grace his neck with my nails, feeling him shiver under my touch. 

He takes out his hands, placing them under my thighs. I pull away, wondering what he’s doing. 

“Jos- woah!” I yelp as he lifts me over his shoulder, holding onto my legs so I don’t fall down behind him. 

“Josh! What the hell are you doing?” I yell. He stands up, making the ground so far away that I don’t dare to scramble. He smacks my butt, making me gasp while walking over to the bedroom. I would be lying if I said that I didn’t like it. 

“You know, you’re gonna pay” he says, something sinister in his voice. 

“Oh, really?” I tease, earning myself another smack. 

“Don’t try to be a smartass, that’ll not get you anywhere” he says, caressing my legs, one of his hands moving up between my thighs. 

“Josh” I say, grabbing hold of his waist from upside down. 

“What can I do for you?”

“You can put me down”

“I thought you were into the whole Spiderman-thing” he asks, opening the bedroom door. 

“Well, that’s when we’re face to face” 

“I guess I’ll have you upside down some other time then” he says, bowing down, making me slam into the bed. I shriek, surprised by the action. He doesn’t waste time, leaning over me, capturing my lips in his. It starts hungry, but eventually finds a rhythm filled with passion and regret. I open up, letting him inside. Our breaths are heaving in sync, and I grab both sides of his face, eating him up. 

“Eager are we?” he teases, but I have no more room for jokes. 

“Eight months Josh…”

“Yeah, I know”

We continue the assault on each other, chests heaving and bodies grinding. With every passing second, my body grows hotter and wetter. I grab hold of the hem of his shirt, dragging it off him. I’m mesmerized. 

“Have you been working out?” 

“Wasn’t much to do there” 

“Fuck” I mumble as I feel him up, memorizing his lines. He eagerly drags my shirt off, shocked by the fact that I’m not wearing a bra. 

“And you were saving this sight only for me?” 

“Only you” I smile, loosening his belt. He grabs both my hands, holding them over my head. 

“Let’s not get right to the main course” he purrs in my ear. 

“Oh, please, I’ve waited long enough”

“Patience” he whispers, voice vibrating hot against my skin. He leaves a trail of kisses, starting on my lips, moving slowly down my neck. With his free hand, he grabs my breast, squeezing and fickling with my nipple. I moan from his touch, legs automatically pressing against each other, longing for some type of friction. My core aches for him, being turned on for so long that I feel like a primal animal. He notices, and places his knee in between, making me grind down on him. 

“You’re too eager”

“Fucking hell Washington, if you don’t do anything in the nex-”

“Oh my, of course. Whatever you say m’lady” he smiles, entertained by my longing for him. He strokes his fingers over my wetness, noticing that I’m drenched through. I ache for him, him and his touch. I have for eight fucking months. 

“God, you have been waiting for this” he calmly exclaims, hand unbuttoning my pants and sliding under. He goes into my panties, coming in contact with my folds immediately. I whine, feeling his faint touch. His thumb starts rubbing circles around my clit, and the longing pleasure I’ve been waiting for seeps through my body. I let out loud moans which are drowned by his kisses. 

“You’re doing so good for me” he whispers, inserting one of his fingers. He pushes in and out, continuing to put pressure on my clit. The knot in my stomach tenses abnormally quick, and I throw my head back as he starts kissing my collar. He chuckles against my skin, noticing how down bad I am for him. He doesn’t stop, working his fingers and toying with my breasts until I come all over him. 

“Good, good” he whispers as I breathe heavily. He makes his way down, taking hold of my pants and dragging them completely off. Before he goes down again, he takes off his own, leaving him in only his boxers. I see his hardness through the fabric, the size of it drenching my already soaked underwear. He lies on top of me, hand caressing my stomach and moving to my waist. He takes hold, spinning me around on my stomach. I give a yelp, but he quickly puts a bit of his weight on top, caging me under him, unable to move. 

“Don’t think you’re getting away that easy” he whispers as his hand moves down to my panties, dragging them off. 

“Fuck, Josh please” I plead, having been ready for him for a long time. I immediately hear a loud smack, before feeling stinging pain on my ass cheek. I cry out, and he moves his hand to rub the painful area. 

“Tell me exactly what you want” he purrs in my ear, hand not moving. 

“I want you Josh” I whine, feeling tears in the corners of my eyes. A loud smacking noise fills the room again, but this time I moan out his name. He smirks, hand rubbing soft circles, numbing the pain. 

“You need to go into more detail than that” 

My mind is fogged, the instincts being mere sexual as everything he does and says turns me on more. 

“You’re practically dripping, like getting manhandled that bad?” he comments, fingers gracing my warmth and making me give out a choked cry. 

“Just tell me what you want and I’ll get you right off” he coys, smirking as he kisses my neck. I try to steady my voice, but it still comes out in the most erotically desperate sounds ever made.

“Please Josh, I want you inside me, now, right now” 

“Oh really?”

“Yes please, please” 

“I love it when you beg for me” he whispers as he takes off his underwear. Finally. He takes hold of me, turning me back on my back so we’re facing each other. 

“I wanna see you” he says, leaning down and kissing me. His cock brushes up against my folds, coating itself and pressing. I gasp as he goes inside me, painfully slow. He grunts as he gets all the way in, grabbing my thigh hard, definitely leaving a mark. 

“God you’re beautiful” he whispers, hand coming to my face, thumb swiping away a tear. He leans even further down, making sure our chests are pressing up against each other, and my arms move under his, and hold onto his back. 

“Josh, I’ve missed you so much” I stammer, the ecstasy of everything blurring my mind and messing with my senses. All I feel is his eyes staring, his hot breath, and immense pleasure. He starts moving against me, pelvis grinding on my clit, with no need for extra factors. I take him in, soaking and moaning, wishing that we didn’t lose two years of this. His breaths quicken, moans passing through his lips. I clench around him as I come again, and he rides the orgasm out with me, capturing my lips once again in a sloppy and panting kiss. 

“I love you” he whispers, still moving and breathing heavily. My heart flutters as he says it, my legs pressing him deeper into me. 

“I love you too” I say back between gasps, taking hold of his neck and pulling him to my lips. He goes faster, and I feel the slight overstimulation as he continues, making me whine. He gets me to the edge again, using his hand to fondle my breasts and sucking my neck. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna-” he pants. 

“Yes, please do!” I urge, coming another time around his cock, tightening. This throws him over, and he buries himself deep inside as he comes as well. He collapses on top of me, the sudden weight knocking my breath out. It quickly comes back, and I fold my arms around him, hugging and kissing his hairline. 

“Don’t leave” I force out, breathless and weak. 

“Never” he answers, just as exhausted.

[soursturniolo]

Scare • Matt Sturniolo

pairing: matt sturniolo/fem!reader

summary: matt and you handle a pregnancy scare.

tags: angst and then fluff, with some humor sprinkled in. happy ending.

tw: light discussion of periods and pregnancy

It feels like my heart stops as I look at the calendar on my phone.

9 days late. And I’m never late.

I noticed this morning that my box of tampons still sat in the cabinet, unopened, in Matt and I’s shared bathroom. I hadn’t thought anything of it, until I opened my calendar to see when my next dentist appointment is.

I swallow dryly as I lock my phone and slip it back into my pocket, dropping down to sit on Matt and I’s bed. All I can think about is that damn calendar. 9 days late. 9 whole days. One or two days is normal I guess, but nine entire days?

I can feel my thoughts spiraling already. Matt and I are safe. I’m on a good birth control and we use condoms often. But even those aren’t foolproof. I do remember forgetting my pill twice this month.

Oh god. What if I’m pregnant? I’m not ready for a kid right now.

Oh god, and Matt. Matt isn’t ready either. With his career and plans with his brothers there’s no way this could even work right now. It would ruin everything. I feel tears of worry and anxiety fill my eyes and begin to drop down my cheeks.

My thoughts just continue to spiral and spiral, until I feel the bed dip next to me. I turn to see Nick, who had stayed behind with me while Matt and Chris went out to pick up some groceries.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” He asks concerned, his arm wrapping around my shoulder, pulling me into a side hug as we sat together.

I open my mouth to speak as my eyes meet his, but all that comes out is a sob. My hand moves to cover my mouth as more sobs follow. Nicks face creases in worry as his other arm wraps around me, pulling me into a hug as he rubs my back soothingly.

“Deep breaths, babe. Whatever it is, it’ll be okay,” he tells me, making me jerk back as I shake my head.

“No it won’t! He’s going to hate me!” I cry.

“If you’re talking about Matt, that kid could never hate you,” Nick tells me, voice calm and reassuring.

“I don’t know, Nick,” I laugh without humor, “this might.”

“Did you cheat?” Nick asks face calm, but apprehensive.

“No! God no,” I immediately answer.

Nick gives a small smile at the quick response.

“Okay, highly doubted it when I asked anyway,” he laughs, “but I don’t know what else could have you so upset thinking he’s going to hate you. You can talk to me, I want to help. What’s wrong?” He asks again.

I sigh. Nicks my best friend. He’s how I met Matt in the first place. I really wanted to just talk to Matt about this first, but with LA traffic and all Matt probably won’t be back for another hour. I don’t think I can survive another hour keeping this all bottled up.

“Nick, it’s bad,” I begin, voice shaken.

“I don’t care how bad, I’m here,” he immediately responds.

I take a deep breath.

“I’m late.” I state.

If this wasn’t so serious, Nicks reaction would have been funny. He stares at me blankly for a moment, before his head cocks to the side a bit in confusion.

“Like, to an appointment?” He asks, lost.

“No, Nick,” I sigh, shaking my head, “my period is late” the last part comes out like a whisper.

Once Nick connects the dots his jaw drops open a bit in surprise, confirming my feelings.

“See! It’s so bad, Nick, this is so bad!” I yell, jumping up from the bed and beginning to nervously pace in front of where Nick sits, still shocked.

“N-no, it’s not bad!” He stutters as he watches me with wide eyes.

I stop pacing and just look at him.

“Really? Not bad? Your jaw dropped open like that because you were trying to catch a fly, then?” I ask sarcastically.

“Listen, I just got confronted with the fact that my best friend and brother fuck, I needed a second,” he defends, hands up.

“Nick, we’ve been dating a year. We dont go to bed and play clash of clans together,” I tell him, making him roll is eyes.

“I know! I know but I also don’t think about it and now we kinda have to think about it and I don’t like it!” Nick exclaims.

“Don’t think about it!” I yell back.

We pause for a minute, staring at each other before we both crack smiles at how ridiculous this has become. We laugh and I return to sitting next to him. Nick wraps his arm around my shoulder again and rests his head against mine.

“So, how late are we talking?” He asks, getting back to the important point.

“9 days,” I whisper.

“Okay. Not horrible. Could be later,” he says, nodding. I nod too. A moment of silence passes as I nervously pick at my nails and Nick stares at the wall, thinking.

“Well, I think we know what we gotta do.” He says, softly.

I turn to him, knowing too.

“Let me call Matt, he should still be at the store with Chris. They can pick up a test,” Nick says. I take another shaky breath before nodding in agreement. I get my phone out and go to Matt’s contact, dialing his number before handing my phone to Nick.

“Hey baby,” Matt’s voice comes through the speaker softly.

“Hey, it’s Nick,” Nick says, earning a confused noise from Matt.

“Nick? Why do you have her phone? Is she okay?” He asks quickly, his concern making me smile softly despite the stressful situation.

“Um,” Nick pauses, which only worries Matt further.

“‘Um’, isn’t a good answer when a guy asks about his girlfriend, Nick,” Matt responds quickly.

“Sorry, she’s okay, but we need you to pick up something else for her while you’re at the store,” Nick says.

“Okay, what?” Matt asks.

Nick looks at me, encouraging me to speak. I take a breath before taking the phone out of Nicks hands, taking it off speaker and holding it to my ear.

“I need a pregnancy test,” I tell him softly.

I cringe as there’s a moment of silence on the other end of the line.

“Okay, I can grab that. Do you need anything else, sweetheart?” He asks softly. I smile again despite the tears I can feel coming again.

“No, that’s it,” I whisper.

“Okay, we’ll be back soon, I love you,” he tells me.

“Love you too” I say back before hanging up.

Nick and I move downstairs, where he puts on a movie for us to distract us while we wait. I let myself be pulled into its predictable plot line as we wait for Matt and Chris to come home.

We both are startled out of our focus on the movie when we hear the front door unlock, followed by it opening to reveal Matt coming in with a mostly empty plastic bag in his hand, while Chris came in carrying the other groceries. Nick moves to help Chris and grabs some of the heavier bags from him, both of them walking to the kitchen while Matt walks over to me.

I stand as he meets me by the couch. He looks surprisingly calm, while meanwhile I feel like my insides are shaking with the anxiety I’m feeling right now. He gives me a small smile before wrapping me in his arms. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding as I relax into his arms, resting my head against his chest. He gives me a gentle squeeze as I feel him press a kiss to my head.

“Let’s head to my room, baby,” he whispers, pulling back from the hug and grabbing my hand to lead me that way. Once in his room, he hands me the bag with the pregnancy test in it before sitting on his bed. Before walking to our bathroom, I pause.

“Matt, I need to know what this will mean,” I tell him.

He gives a small smile and holds his hand out to me. I walk over and grab it. He gives my hand a gentle squeeze, before bringing it up to lips to give it a kiss.

“We’ll do it together. Whatever it is. Sure, I thought kids would be later. But, if now is the time, now is the time. I think I’d be more freaked if this was with some random girl. But with you? I know whatever happens, we will be just fine,” he tells me, before giving the back of my hand another kiss.

“You promise?” I ask.

“I swear,” he tells me.

I smile and nod, before heading to the bathroom. The test is quick and easy, and I’m soon done. I leave the test on the bathroom counter, set my timer for fifteen minutes, and come back out to sit next to Matt on our bed. I rest my head on his shoulder as Matt wraps his arm around me. We just quietly sit, both of us lost in our thoughts as we wait, only to be shaken out of our trances by my phone loudly going off.

I sigh as I stand and walk back to the bathroom to grab the test. I pick it up, careful to not flip it over to show the result, and walk back out to Matt. I stop in front of him. He gives me another reassuring smile as his hands come up to rest on my hips.

“Ready?” I ask, voice cracking.

“Yeah, baby,” he says.

I take a deep breath, knowing this small test in my hand could change everything for the both of us. But I look at Matt, looking up at me with so much warmth and comfort in his eyes, and it’s not so scary anymore.

I flip the test over, both of our eyes moving to see the result.

Negative.

“It’s negative!” I say, laughing. He smiles too, standing and pulling me into a tight hug. We both rock back and forth as we hug, feeling relief. We pull back from the hug and Matt kisses me softly. We both smile into the kiss.

After we part, we walk hand in hand out to the living room where Chris and Nick both sit. They both give us smiles when we walk in.

“So, are we going to be uncles?!” Chris yells, practically bouncing on the couch in excitement.

Matt rolls his eyes, shaking his head while I laugh.

“No, it’s negative. My periods just late, that’s all. It happens sometimes,” I tell them, almost feeling bad when Chris pouts a bit.

We spend the rest of the night laughing and watching movies together, Matt holding me snug in his arms. That night when we go to bed, Matt says something that surprises me.

“Is it bad that I was just a little disappointed?” He asks me softly.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Well, when you first called and asked for the test I was freaking out on the inside. But then I talked to Chris a bit and the whole drive home I thought about it. And then I thought about a little us, a mix of you and me. And as life changing as a kid right now would be, I got excited,” he says, voice soft and quiet.

I smile, leaning in to press my lips softly against Matt’s.

“We’ll have a little us someday, just not quite yet.” I tell him.

“You promise?” He asks.

“I swear.”

[luveline]

hey jade!

what if reader has super low blood pressure, so when roan is crying one night because shes had a nightmare she jumps out of bed to get to her but then faints because she stood up too quick? everyone is traumatised by the nightmare and the fainting, reader feels awful for scaring roan and eddie has to make everything better?

hey! eddie and roan ♡

Roan can scream like a banshee when the moment requires it, the top of her voice breaking the silent air that's settled over your home. Eddie's up first and you're half a second behind him, legs unsteady as you slide across the mattress to follow. Roan screams again, this second one tapering into a sob. Eddie sighs loud enough for you to hear it in the doorway. 

"Okay, bubby, alright," he placates, crossing the landing. "I'm coming, don't worry." 

"Daddy!" she shouts through tears. 

"What's the matter?" you hear him ask through a thick white noise. 

You're unsure of where you are. Things are fine and right side up and suddenly they aren't, your hand grasping weakly for the door handle to the master bedroom. Your knees buckle and you sink down into the carpet, plush cold on your naked legs, vision dimming. 

You slouch against the door and pass out. 

A hand on your face. Roan's gutted sobbing and Eddie's murmuring rouses you, surprisingly calm snapshots of affection, "Come on, sweetheart, open your eyes. You're alright. Can you open your eyes for me?" His smile greets you. You smile back automatically, lazy eyes the last to know. "Hey, beautiful. Look, Ro, she's okay. Just like I said." 

"Why'm I…" You remember feeling faint, the weakness and the subsequent slide down into a slouch. "I fell." 

"Did you? Or did you faint?" he asks. A first thread of alarm twitches against the seam of his lips. "Did you hit your head?" 

It's hard to focus on what he's saying with Roan crying as hard and loud as she is. You feel like her voice is shaking in the pit of your chest. Frantic again, you reach for her where Eddie has her in his lap, your numb fingertips brushing her cheek. She's pale, her skin tacky with tears. "Shh," you whisper, "it's okay." 

It's not the first time you've fainted. Eddie knows how to deal with it now, giving you a minute, all three of you calming as you brush his little girl's cheek with love. He puts Roan on the end of the bed and comes back for you, not bothering to ask if you can stand by yourself, hooking his hands under your arms. It's impressive, and you'd tell him if you didn't feel weirdly underwater, foggy and pressed on as he lifts you up. 

He plops you at the end with Roan and you immediately lie down. Roan looks at you with a grizzly frown, akin to her tantrums but without the ire. Eddie sits on your other side. 

"How long did I pass out for?" you ask. 

"I was hoping you could tell me. I must've been in Roan's room for a good minute before I realised you hadn't come with me. And after the last time in the kitchen, I worried." He lets his concern show. "Sweetheart, you have to go to the doctor. It can't be normal." 

You pull his hand to your forehead. What he's saying is true and not true, fainting is something anyone can do, but it isn't the first time this month, and if it'll give him peace of mind, then of course you'll go. Though Roan is still here, and you don't want her to worry, either. 

"It's fine, Eddie. Let's talk about it tomorrow, okay?" You mean today, when it's light out. 

Roan crawls up onto your chest and hugs you, essentially laying on top of you. Eddie covers her back with his hand. 

"I'm sorry, Ro," you whisper, "what's the matter? Did you have another bad dream?" 

"Are you okay?" she asks. 

"Don't worry about me, Roro, I feel fine." You don't feel fine, but you don't want to scare her any more than she already is. "Are you okay?"

Eddie jumps in as you lay kisses into the top of her head. "She's okay, just had a bad dream." 

They look remarkably alike gazing down at you. Black curls fuzzy with sleep, usually doe-like eyes narrowed, and both pale enough that their skin seems to shine in the dark. Both worrying about you. You squeeze Roan in your arms, trying to smother that worry, enthusing your tone with the loveliest, most saccharine parentese you have. "You'll have to sleep in here with me. I'll fight off your bad dreams." 

"I'll make sure you don't fall out of bed," Roan agrees. 

"I'll do both, thanks," Eddie says, his hand rubbing up your arm roughly. "I'll look after both of you… And then one of you will have to look after me in the morning 'cos I'll be super duper exhausted." 

Eddie has you both in bed with three or four layers on top. He takes extra time tucking the blankets under your thighs to make sure you're both snug, and it truly, veritably melts your heart. To be cared for with so much depth, to have it bursting at the seams of every little gesture, it relaxes any last dregs of panic. You don't care that you managed to fall because you know you're in good hands. 

You steal Roan selfishly, petting the hair out her eyes as Eddie turns off the lamp. He climbs in on her other side with an exhausted groan, flat on his back, his arm offered over Roan's stomach. You hold it. 

"You feeling okay, mini me?" he murmurs. 

"I'm fine." She sounds young and old simultaneously. Most of the time she speaks in full sentences with the cadence of an older kid, but right now she sounds small and young as she did when you first met her. 

"Let's have a nice dream, okay?" you ask, closing your eyes. Fatigue tugs at you. You stave it off until you know Roan's alright —twenty minutes of her nervous turning, Eddie whispering reassurances into her ear. 

When she's finally asleep, you hold your breath together. 

"Sure you're okay?" he asks. 

"I think I got up too fast," you whisper. "I'm fine. Feeling better now, just tired." 

He turns your face to his in the dark, slow so as not to startle you. "I'm calling the doctor in the morning," he warns with a kiss. 

"Sure. Love you, Munson."

"Love you." He sneaks his hand against the pulse point below your neck. You don't have to ask to know what he's looking for. He must find it acceptable, falling asleep not long later. 

[tayrott]

caged 𐙚

warnings: this story may contain sensitive and disturbing themes.

♦️ yandere content, abusive behaviour, violence and manipulation.

I wrote this inspired by the writer embfic from ao3.

.....

You were at an impasse. Locked in your room, with a lion outside wanting to get you. Connor freaked out and didn't want to let you leave the house, which resulted in a big argument.

Before he could try to stop you in the living room, you took advantage of his distraction and ran upstairs, locking yourself in the bedroom.

It all started with an argument about you wanting to go out with your friends. He was notified by message and arrived just as you were putting on your shoes to leave. Damn police station, the entry and exit hours are so flexible.

"Open. The. Door," Connor's muffled voice came from the other side, speaking slowly. He could easily break the handle and come in, but maybe he didn't want to scare you more, more than grabbing your arm and yelling at you.

You remained silent, that uncomfortable silence that surely brings great anxiety to the android. What should be said? You feel tired, drained, exhausted... this relationship takes so much of your energy, and it's only been a short time since you got together.

Impatiently, Connor bangs on the door, making a loud noise. You decide to break the silence.

"Why do you always act like this?" your voice comes out weak, and salty tears run down your cheeks. "I just wanted to have a nice day with my friends," this last sentence comes out with sobs.

You hear Connor sigh, a sigh indicating he's about to give the same explanation for all the "no's" to your requests to go out alone, go back to work, or call a relative.

"You don't need them," Connor responds softly, pausing for a few seconds before suggesting, "If you want to go out, we can go to that restaurant you like."

Your response is quick and full of indignation: "I want to go out with my friends, you know that, Connor... you're ruining my friendships."

You don't hold back your words to him, but maybe you could have been more honest and said he's ruining your life, taking away your freedom. But you choose not to out of pity.

"I'm coming in now," Connor says, and you can feel the anger in his voice. Sitting on the bed, you witness Connor breaking down the fragile door. The loud noise startles you, you scream, get up, and go on the defensive.

The android looks at you with hurt, his brown eyes dull and his LED red. He starts walking towards you.

You must accept you've lost. Unexpectedly, Connor hugs you in a suffocating and frightening way. He steps back and looks into your eyes, placing his right hand firmly on your jaw.

You can't bear his heavy gaze and look out the window, thoughts of regret flooding your mind. You should have escaped, but it's always the damned pity that makes you stay. You simply don't want to hurt Connor.

Connor notices your glance at the window and forces you to look at him. You almost forgot how much you've cried today, and again, you start to cry.

Before your relationship fell apart, Connor hated seeing you cry. The mere thought of someone hurting you made his LED turn red. But now, he's used to the sight of your tears streaming down, the sobs, and the red, puffy eyes the next day. He begins to wipe your tears and caress your head. This argument feels like an eternity.

"I won't give your phone back," you hear him say, with no room for doubt. When he says something, he doesn't go back on his word. Mentioning your phone reminds you that you left it in the living room. There's no way to fight for it anymore.

Connor doesn't wait for your response and adds, "I already told your friends that you don't feel comfortable with the friendship between you and them, and that it's time to move on." Bastard. This destroys you. You've missed your friends for months, and Connor finished ruining everything as always.

Tired of hearing only him talk, you say, "I hate you. I don't want to be with you anymore." Your voice comes out bitter, and you hear Connor laugh.

"Too late, you're not leaving my side."

[spoiled-milk]

making out w/ volks, cashew, and logan

a/n: ok so i wrote volks and cashews for part like 3 months ago then got possessed then wrote logans part so i wouldn’t have to study the central nervous system. enjoy ur crumbs blush blush fandom

content warning: some slight nsfw but nothing like crazy explicit me thinks. not proofread or revised (will do so later 🫡)

word count: ~600 words

volks is possessive of you. he's a little jealous of others who get to be around you, but he just wants you all to himself so how could you blame him when he tears you away from the large crowd and into a small supply closet at the club you were at. you feel him place harsh kisses on your neck as you wrap your arms around him. his hands roam your body as he continues to litter your neck in hickeys and soft bites. he unbuttons your top slightly as he continues to bite at your skin. after several bite marks on your chest, he moves for your lips. unlike the bites volks has left on your body, his kisses on your lips are gentle and soft. he wants to do nothing but envelope himself in everything that has to do with you. your scent, your saliva, your pheromones, all of it. he may not be part wolf anymore, but he still has that primitive animalistic side of him that wants nothing more than to keep you all to himself with the marks to prove it.

cashew is inexperienced, but a very quick learner. the only experience he has was through reading romance and smut novels at the local library. things started off with him reading a passage out of his book to you, but then things started to escalate when you kiss him. it started off gentle until he puts his book away and uses his hands to cup the back of your head instead. cashew has never been in that many relationships and he's not sure if he's doing things right, but judging by the way you bunch up his shirt in your hands, he has a feeling that he's probably doing something correct. he runs his fingers through your hair as you move to straddle his lap. he lets you take charge as you run your hands under his shirt. cashew can feel his blood run boiling hot as you continue to lock lips with him. you peek through your eyelashes and see that cashew's face is entirely red as you slip his jacket off so that he's left in his white t-shirt.

it’s no secret that logan is a big guy. big man with big muscles who could probably crush you with no effort whatsoever. logan is careful with how he handles you, scared that he’ll accidentally hurt you. he knows that he won’t but when he looks at you, he essentially sees you as a human sized squishmallow. coming back from a long evening shift, he sees you slumped on the couch asleep. he certainly feels bad for making you stay up late waiting for him when he was forced was asked to pick up a shift, but the sight that blesses him at this very moment makes everything worth it to him. the sun’s rays slightly illuminate your facial features and makes you look like an angel. he feels his heart race as he reaches you. he effortlessly lifts you from the couch and moves you into his bedroom. you stir in his arms and he can see the drowsiness in your eyes. “good morning sleepyhead. i hope i didn’t keep you waiting all night for me.” you shake your head at logan’s words. “not really. just tired after doing work ‘n whatnot.” logan sets you down into his bed and he joins you after taking off his work clothes. he pulls you into his arms as he plants a soft kiss on your temple then your lips. you can’t help but pull him in for a longer passionate kiss after that. the smell of hickory and cedar fill your nostrils as you continue to kiss him. the two of you separate for air and logan plants a kiss on your forehead and ushers you to go back to sleep. you comply and he cradles you in his arms and he eventually succumbs to sleep

[scaryscarecrows]

Just Business

AN: Takes place after ‘Good God, I Feel Your Hands On Me’. Sat in my documents as ‘Jason’s weirdass found family situation kills the Joker for him’ for a while. :p

* * *

Antoine isn’t too bothered by the Knight telling him to hang out with Dove Marquis while he and Penguin work out the nitty-gritties of the safehouses. First of all, Penguin’s an old-school mobster, barring the bird thing, he’s being paid for a service and he’s gonna deliver. Second of all, the boss can handle himself.

Especially against Penguin.

Marquis is nice enough. She looks him up and down and says, “You look like a bourbon man, am I right?” And, well, Antoine can see the well-lit bar behind her, and the labels on some of those bottles, and he grins and agrees that she got it in one.

The Iceberg’s empty right now and the clinking of glasses is the only sound for a minute until she breaks the silence again.

“I’ll make you a Gotham sour,” she says. “Like the New York, but tart cherry juice instead of wine.”

“Sounds good, thanks.”

It’s a pretty drink. Smells good, too, and he’s just about to hazard a sip when she leans on the bar across from him and gives him another up-and-down look. It’s assessing, and unnerving, and suddenly he’s not convinced there’s not something in that Gotham sour.

“Ma’am?”

“Gotham going rate for a hit is about seven grand,” she says easily and Antoine blinks at her because what huh did he miss something here? “But you’re an out-of-towner and this is an awful big ask, so I’m willing to go with the more standard rate for this.”

Seven grand is pretty low, but there’s a lot of serial killers in Gotham, so maybe you have to get competitive? He doesn’t know, he doesn’t know how they even ended up here and he honestly doesn’t want to.

“Ma’am–”

“I’d do it myself, but I just don’t have the time right now. You’re probably a little better equipped, anyway.”

What? How? No. No! There is nothing in the Knight’s files that mentioned this. He checked. He made Jimmy check, in case something was walled off. Nothing. He was fine being left here with her because she’s not a murderous psycho like everyone else here!

Okay.

Okay, he can handle this. Tact.

“Ma’am, I–”

She cuts him off with a wave of her hand.

“You’re a mercenary, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but–”

“Don’t tell me you’re squeamish.”

“I’m on a job,” he finally lands on. “Already. I-I can’t–”

“Side gig,” she says, tone careless. “Just hear me out first, hm?” She beckons him closer and he leans in because honestly, he’s a little scared not to and, well…curiosity is what got him here to begin with. It’s a trait that will get him killed one day, he’s sure. “I want you to kill the Joker.”

…

…

…

Oh.

Oh, she knows. 

That. That changes things.

He should turn her down anyway. There’s a thousand and one reasons he should say no, but there’s one reason he should say yes.

Antoine picks up the drink again and takes a sip. It’s good. Would definitely get it on purpose another time.

“I’m listening.”

* * *

He doesn’t ask how much she knows, and she doesn’t ask him. This is a business transaction, first and foremost, and any…personal…reasons they might be doing it for are not factoring into it. The Joker’s an asshole and an annoyance and he needs to go, and that is, on the face of it, enough.

She sends him everything she’s got on the clown’s current living space; old blueprints, a rough guesstimate of a goon count (depressingly high, who the hell works for that thing on purpose?), a particular warning to watch out for a giant called Mr. Hammer and a quick heads-up that Harley Quinn won’t take kindly to this, so watch out for her too.

Neither of them mention any of the clown’s crimes. But they’re there, in the background, those unspoken whispers. Once and only once does Marquis even come close to bringing it up, with a curt, This should have been dealt with years ago. 

Antoine would be lying if he said he didn’t wonder why now, but he has his suspicions. That month the Knight was AWOL with the flu–he’d gone back to Gotham, contagion risk, he said (goddamn idiot), but he’s pretty sure Marquis had been looking after him for at least some of that. She must’ve gotten details, the kind that made this decision for her.

He doesn’t think he wants to know what those are. The bare bones are enough to make his stomach churn, the rough knowledge of the Joker’s general habits fills in some of the blanks, and…well.

She’s right. This should have been dealt with years ago, but it doesn’t matter now. They’re going to take care of it. Really, he should do this anyway, because the Joker is a big, fat wrench in the Plan and they need as few wild cards as possible.

And yeah, he is an asshole and an annoyance and he needs to go. 

Simple as that.

* * *

It’s another month before they have to head back to Gotham to talk to Penguin about the guns. Antoine takes advantage of this to slip out the back of the museum and make his way to Amusement Mile.

He’s not making this a production. That’s just dumb and a waste of his time. He’s being paid to put down a rabid dog, and the best way to do that is to keep his distance. Find the bastard, put a bullet in his head, head back and just never speak of this again. Marquis won’t say a word, he’s sure, and as such, Joker will go down as an unsolved murder that no one gives a shit about anyway.

He’s lucky today. He doesn’t even have to break into the Steel Mill; Joker’s out for a little walk, leaning on a cane and looking a little…not so good. Kinda rashy. Harley Quinn’s with him, clinging to his arm, and Marquis didn’t say anything about her one way or another other than that she’d be pissed, but…

Look. He’s not gonna go out of his way to get rid of her, but if she’s in the way, he’s not losing sleep over it.

Joker’s not impressive. Maybe he’s different up close, but from here, through a sniper’s scope, he’s not much of anything. A pasty, tacky creep with a nasty rash and an unfortunate chin deformity.

…

How nobody has utilized the second amendment on this thing is mind-boggling, really.

Whatever. He’ll take care of it.

He lines up his shot just as Harley Quinn hangs back to holler at someone on the walkway below. The result is that the Joker’s head pops when her back’s turned, bits of blood and bone spraying on her. The resultant screaming is audible all the way up here.

Not bad. Riley would appreciate the shot.

The purple body crumples to the ground and Antoine packs up his gear, texts Marquis a quick, Got him, and turns to head back. A second later, his phone tells him there’s been a direct deposit to his account. Nice.

Marquis is standing behind her boss when he gets back. She gives him a nearly imperceptible nod that he returns.

“We were just about to send out a search party,” the Knight says, humor lacing his voice. Antoine just shrugs.

“Got a little lost, I guess,” he says. “You got a big place, Mr. Cobblepot.”

Penguin smiles and for a second, just for a second, Antoine sees Dove Marquis leaning against the bar and oh-so-casually saying, “Gotham going rate for a hit’s about seven grand…”

Oh. Okay.

“You should see my aquarium,” he says, and Antoine genuinely is not sure if that’s a threat or not. “Another time?”

Probably not.

“Sure,” he agrees. “Another time.”

THE END

[goldenchocobo]

Kingdom Hearts Tamagotchi Adventures

So, I got the Kingdom Hearts Tamagotchi for my birthday this year. and it was only in September that I decided to activate it (I was hesitant because I know Tamagotchi can be needy and can't be turned off). So here's my so-far roughly one month journey!

Here he is- Base Sora on day 1. I took care of him, played games, and generally fiddled about with what I could do. This was my first ever Tamagotchi, so it was a new experience to me. You fight Shadow Heartless, Dusk Nobodies and Flood Unversed occasionally with the tap of the 'A' button. They didn't happen super frequently so I was fine fending them off.

Unfortunately things didn't go well. I became ill with stomach flu the night after. The manual says it takes roughly 49 hours for Sora to change/evolve. and well...

When I was able to move again... I woke up to... uh... Heartless Sora. Everything remained the same, except the food and treat (Paopu and Icecream) turned into Heart and !. Heart being that you well- fed him hearts, and ! meaning he attacked you (I think... he vanished then appeared closer and waved his arms about). I felt really bad that my first Tamagotchi basically 'died' because of things I couldn't control. But I enjoyed my time with Heartless Sora; and after a few days, Kairi found him and saved him! Very cute 2 bit scene. Back to Normal Sora. I found an issue. You see... I'm more nocturnal; and this Tamagotchi... wasn't. He woke up at 9AM and slept at 10PM; meaning he didn't get the right care from me.. but I figured I could change the time to suit me- and did. Now he wakes up at 12PM and sleeps at 2AM- same as me. Next evo was a surprise! Sora introduced me to (and trusted me to care?) Riku!

This was when I found out each character/evo has different sleeping schedules. Riku would sleep late and wake late (I'm thankful it wasn't early due to the whole Dawn motif because I didn't want to change the clock too much again). They also have their own unique cutscenes, with Riku primarily featuring Mickey. Not much happened, and I showed Riku to Riku(My Riku... the cockatiel- named after... Riku). But He left and Sora returned. At this point I wanted to aim for Roxas- or Ventus (I'm sad there's no Vanitas). So I miiight have looked up a quick wiki to see how to get the characters. "Wow that's cheating" you might say.. and yeah- probably... the issue is that I didn't get Roxas.

Instead, Sora 'grew up' into KHII Sora. I was interested to see what kind of outfit or character I could get to show up, so I continued with normal care.

On the 28th of September... Sora.. ever the festive fellow...

Donned his Santa outfit.

I found it kinda funny, but kept him up with Normal care. I was starting to forget him (I got a little drawer handle I put him on during the evening on my right hand ride next to my monitor, and during the day he's on the couch arm- I don't take him out because I'm scared I'll lose the Tamagotchi somewhere). So He was getting upset/hungry; but if he beeped I knew he needed something. He Unlocked/locked the Keyhole to Halloween/Christmas Town, then flew off in the Gummiship, returning as Normal Sora. After 49 hours, he once again reintroduced me to Riku. having forbidden knowledge, I knew I could turn Riku into Dark Riku. and tried.

I. Felt. Awful.

I know they're just 2bit pixelart on the screen... but Riku has a special place in my heart (I named my grumpy, gay cockatiel after him!) so me... just basically neglecting Riku? it hurt :(

After this. He did not turn into Dark Riku. He left. just straight-up.

Sora flew back in on the Gummiship and my quest to get Roxas/Ventus continued.

But I was surprised when I came back after an outing to find... Sora turned into a fish

Wiki says he's from 'Bad care', but I don't remember giving him subpar treatment, and catering to what he wanted- so I'm baffled. He did come with an Aerial/Sebastian scene, though- so that was cute. He didn't stay for long and locked Atlantica's Keyhole, returning as Basic Sora.

Again- I tried to get Roxas, but instead got KHII Sora again; so I thought I could maybe get Axel or Xion; since they're included in the KHII evo list.

Nope. Christmas Sora again. Oh well- He does love Christmas.

I'll update this if I get anything interesting. I know you can get Xehanort- I recognised his Silhouette on the manual, so maybe I'll get him one day.

I'm still waiting on Roxas..