#anyway i could probably just keep taking the pills but i feel like its better to go to the doctor

[jorvikzelda]

today i came to the conclusion for the 2nd time that i probably 100% have an iron deficiency so its. time to go to the doctor about that one i think.

[byexbyez]

lovers of valdaro | leon kennedy x reader

PART I  |  PART II  |  PART III (finale)

pairing: leon kennedy x f!reader 

summary: Some things have changed. The months, the weather, the air that hangs between Leon and you. Yet one thing has remained constant: his desire to keep you as close as possible. 

word count: 8.2K of gratuitous smut 

warnings: 18+, smut, established relationship, pda, bickering, consensual somnophilia, groping, dry humping, unprotected p in v, fingering, prone boning, swearing, slight dom/sub undertones, pet names, an attempt at praise kink, pill as contraception, creampie, oral sex (f!receiving), marking, unintentional edging, masturbation, aftercare, no use of y/n, oh and ooc 

notes: i’m sorry to those who were expecting pt 3 to be angsty. i wanted to portray some changes and get used to writing and publishing smut. also, this can be read separately as it is almost all smut. enjoy!

➵ read on ao3.

“This man yaps a lot,” Leon says from behind you, you’re startled by his voice near your ear. His lips tickle your earshell. Like a cat’s fur standing up, your shoulders go up slightly. Renting only one sunbed –a narrow chair, really– for the two of you starts to feel like a mistake. Well, you plan to swim anyway, I’ll just sunbathe, you had said earlier, failing to account for Leon’s FOMO when you pulled out your book from your beach bag. For some reason, he was interested in anything that captured your attention as of late. 

You were looking at travel guides for you and your sister back at home when Leon saw your laptop screen. “What’s this?” he asked, adjusting the screen so he could see it better. 

“Beaches in Italy,” you answered. “My sister will be using her yearly vacation this year. I’m making  a list of places we can go if she asks.” Leon was silent and when you turned to him, already watching you intently. “What?” 

“Our anniversary is coming up.” 

You looked at the date, wondering why he brought it up. “I guess it is.” 

“How about we go? Before your sister asks, I mean,” he suggested, scratching the back of his neck. 

You straightened up on the couch. “You wanna go on a vacation with me?” 

The corners of his lips curled up. “Err, I believe I asked you first.” 

A little girl runs by your sunbed with her arms full of plastic toys, screaming with joy as she plops down to the sand. The bottoms of her tiny feet are red, probably because of how hot the sand is. She begins digging up sand with her toy shovel. 

“It’s Dostoevsky,” you say, like that would be enough clarification for Leon. His arm comes up to pinch the book up top to flip it and peek at its title, which reads “White Nights.”  Propping up your elbow on your torso to adjust both your book and your attention, you try to move as little as possible to not disturb him. He basically made you sit between his legs and lay your back on his chest, saying he would take a dip in the sea in a few minutes. 

You know he’s about to speak again when your head rises along his chest. “He’s been talking nonstop for three pages.” 

“Leon, I’m trying to focus.” 

The little girl a few feet away lets out a frustrated cry when her castle crumbles down, her little arms flap irritably, chucking the toy shovel in front of her in the process. A slightly older boy, probably her brother, comes to the rescue with a bucket full of sea water. He shows his little sister how to wet the sand for it to hold shape. The sound of waves crashing against the breakwater drowns out their shrill laughter.

“You’re squishing your boob,” Leon blurts out, takes hold of the planted elbow on your breast and lifts it in the air. 

Trying to follow the words, your head knocks on Leon’s chin. “I can’t read like this. Let go of my arm.” 

“Nuh-uh. If I let go, you’re gonna keep pressing your arm to your boob and have a nip slip.” 

“I’m not gonna have a nip slip.” 

“Whatever the correct verb for a nip slip is, it will happen.” His chin digs into the crown of your hair. “And those teenagers will remember this day forever.” 

Your eyebrows scrunch together. “What teenagers?” 

“The ones that are looking this way,” Leon states in a matter-of-factly tone. He’s right, a bunch of boys are in the sea, laughing among themselves by splashing water. Every now and then their heads tilt up to your direction. 

You look down on yourself to see if the swimsuit is covering you like it’s supposed to. There’s nothing wrong with it, yet that doesn’t stop you from setting the book down on your stomach. “Why are they looking here? What’s wrong with my swimsuit?” 

“It looks good on you, that’s why. Hormonal teenagers.” 

“I think it’s the position we’re in,” you mumble. Your back feels damp with sweat as you peel away from him, sitting up further away.

But Leon has other plans, he snakes his hand around your shoulder and plants his palm right on your sternum, pulling you back to him by your chest. 

“Oof,” you breathe out once you collide with his torso again. 

He taps his fingers on your breastbone as he catches the slipping book on your lap. “Here, I’ll hold it. You turn the pages.” 

“It’s too hot for this,” you groan. 

“Pardon me for doing something,” he says, sounding neither hurt nor sorry. 

“You said you’d swim,” you say, though it sounds more like a suggestion. “Want me to lather you up in sunscreen? I know you didn’t put it on back at the hotel.” 

“I mean, when you ask it like that, sure.” He’s grinning like a cheshire cat, it warms your heart that he’s pleased with himself just by managing to get under your skin. Something quite like a heartbeat, it feels intimate, an embrace out in the open. In a snap, you shake off the feeling. You’re not going to see these people again, they do not know you, just like how you don’t know the couple dipping their feet in the water while holding hands, little girl building sandcastles with her brother, young boys jumping on each other’s backs. Who would have thought being a stranger to all of it would make your yearning flesh all the more tender? 

Your wandering eyes shut in bliss when you feel it. A featherlight, barely-there kiss on the back of your neck, placed just below your hair, followed by the disappearance of your book from your sight. Leon reaches down to drop it in your bag, you wiggle away to let him search for the bottle of sunscreen. 

“Take your shirt off,” you say once you turn to face him. 

“Damn, woman. At least buy me dinner first.” 

“Can you get any cornier? You’re getting overpriced beer at best.” 

“...May your sky always be clear, may your dear smile always be bright and happy, and may you be for ever blessed for that moment of bliss and happiness which you gave to another lonely and grateful heart. Isn't such a moment sufficient for the whole of one's life–?”

Your attention snaps away from your book over a playful voice. “Hey, miss. Sorry to bother you.” Leon is standing a few steps in front of your chair, hands on his hips, most of his weight on one leg. Water drops cling to his firm chest, following a delectable path down his muscles. Some even caress his faded scars gently, a reminder that he has endured things far from gentle. His hair seems darker due to saltwater, the tips of it almost poking his eyes, by the looks of him having to shake them away from his face when he attempts to tilt his head to the side. “Are you perhaps single?” 

You purse your lips to suppress a grin. “Why are you asking?” 

“I’m interested.” 

“Oh,” you croon in mock-embarrassment. “I’m married.” You make sure to show off the gold band on your ring finger. 

He walks next to your chair. “Lucky guy. Speaking of, where is he?” His gaze lingers on your legs that are bent towards your chest, the book propped up on your knees. 

You close the book and play along. “He’s swimming.” 

“Is he a good swimmer?” 

“Yeah, his strokes are phenomenal.” 

His eyebrows shoot up. “Are we still talking about swimming?” 

You tilt your head to the side. “Why yes, is there a misunderstanding?” 

“No, no. Just making sure we’re on the same page here. Tell me more about him.” 

You gesture to the empty room on the foot of the sunchair. “Then you might want to sit here for a while. Maybe dry off?” 

“I’d love to keep you company until your husband shows up.” Leon sits sideways next to your feet, way too familiar for a ‘stranger.’ “What’s he like?”

“First of all, he looks a lot like you.” You press your lips together. This is ridiculous. “He’s also incredibly annoying.” When Leon gasps half-mockingly, you cast a sideways glance at him. “His jokes are really corny, he’s lucky I put up with them.” 

“That might hurt his feelings.” 

“Well, he’s not here.” 

He scrunches his eyebrows together, there’s a visible question mark in his blink. “My jokes are that bad?” 

“Aaand, the play is over.” You slap your knees lightly, sliding your feet towards Leon until your toes touch the side of his thigh. “We are not sharing the chair again. You’re still dripping.” 

A sluggish sigh escapes his lips. “Let me lean on you at least.” 

And before you can say no, Leon is relocating your hands from your knees, moving them by your wrists, placing your arms at your sides. He folds his own arms on top of your knees and rests his temple on them, hugging your knees to himself, looking off into the side. You could lean forward and bury your nose in his hair like this, inhale the sun and salt, let your lips linger, let him feel the ghost of a kiss for a change. Though he was always better at unprompted acts of affection, maybe because he didn’t think much of it. 

It’s peaceful—the secluded space you’ve managed to carve out for the two of you, despite the chaos of the crowded beach. It feels like a quiet world unto itself, hidden in plain sight amid a sea of distant faces, as if removed from everything around you. It’s strangely intimate. Minutes or hours pass, you can’t make out which, lost in the stillness. 

When Leon speaks, his thumb starts brushing your knee. “I can hear you think,” he murmurs, his voice low. What’s going on in that head of yours? 

“Will you tell me a truth?” you ask, almost in a whisper. 

Leon doesn’t lift his head up, lazy like a cat in the sun. Although his body reminds him to be on guard upon hearing a kid yell in the distance, his muscles twitch reflexively. “Why?” 

“For all of this to feel real.” Your eyes follow the slope of his nose, then the squished red cheek leaning on his forearm. The sunscreen you copiously put on his nose bridge couldn’t protect his skin. You can’t help but admire his long lashes, fluttering so prettily the action could make butterflies jealous. 

His answer surprises you. “I’m scared all the time.” 

“Of what?” 

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” His thumb stops moving so he can squeeze your kneecap. “I’m scared that one day you’ll want us to go our separate ways. I’m scared that I will not be able to let you go. You know I wasn’t able to do it the first time around. I dread the day you won’t want to see my face again.” 

“Leon–” 

“Sometimes I get scared that something will happen to you and I will lose you.” 

It dawns on you then. The reason why you’ve been waking up to strong arms tangled around your waist for months. 

“Leon, nothing’s going to happen to me.” 

However, he’s still going on. “If you decide you’ve had enough, just let me know, okay? Don’t just up and leave.” 

Your throat constricts itself. You don’t know what to say to that. Part of you wants to do just that: up and leave. Not the way he means but in a way to escape his hold, step aside to mull it over and come up with a humane response. The fact that he couldn’t meet your eyes while saying all that leaves your heart with a dull ache, chest too heavy to even breathe. 

He finally looks up, expression unreadable. His eyes scour your face, searching for something. “Does it feel real now?” 

You swallow on nothing as you meet his eyes. Sure, you nod. It terrifies you how real it actually feels. 

Leon thinks he’s a genius for lowering the temperature of the air-conditioning while you were in the bathroom, carrying out your night routine. No, he didn’t have any malicious intent, not at all, he was just sweating a lot even after his shower. By the time you entered the bed in your pajamas, you suspected nothing, lifted the bedcover to join him. Your skin was glowing from all the products he couldn’t wrap his head around, your lips were shining clear. For a moment, he wanted to plant his mouth to your lips and taste the vaseline. 

He was aroused, which was not surprising considering the amount of sex you two had been having. It’s become so regular that he thinks he never had this much compatibility with anyone before. Goodnight, Leon, you murmured before gracing him with the sight of your back, voice so sweet he nearly whined out of desperation. He didn’t know why he waited for your breathing to fall steady, he’s been holding you in your sleep for a while now. Every morning you wake up before him and toss his arms aside, get the day started. 

When he’s sure that you’ve fallen asleep, he makes his move, drapes an arm around your waist, pressing his bare chest to your clothed back, spooning you. He’s careful not to wake you despite the evidence of his arousal resting against your ass. Normally, he would ignore it and take care of it in the morning but you make that impossible by squirming in your sleep. A few minutes pass by and he guesses the room must feel like an icebox to you, he knows you get cold quickly. Leon thinks he’s a genius because he could just wake you up and suggest warming you up. He also thinks he’s a fool because what if you don’t wake up, with all this squirming? He could move to the side and wait for the cold to do its own thing or he could just get up and go to the bathroom to rub one out. Or he could lower his boxers, do it right here. He’s positive you wouldn’t mind, that’s how intimate you two have become.  

Before he can decide, a shiver takes over your body, a soft whimper escaping your lips. Now Leon feels bad. He’ll just get up and fix the AC to an acceptable temperature. 

You shrivel into him, searching for warmth. The arm across your waist reaches up, the entirety of his hand cupping your breast that’s pressed against the bed. His body runs hot despite the breeze in the hotel room, so he thinks this will help. Just as a quiet, needy cry from your throat travels to his burning ears, his other arm snakes beneath your body to press against your belly. He squeezes you tightly until he can feel the blood pumping through your veins, buries his nose into the crook of your neck. Inhaling deeply bestows on him your enticing scent. 

Guilt washes over him as he ruts his hips into your sleep shorts, because who becomes an animal in heat when they smell clean soap? 

Leon. Leon does. 

The smallest things have been setting him off. All of your flimsy sundresses, swaying of your hips in them, your smooth legs, the gold anklet that matches with your wedding ring, the swimsuit that makes your cleavage call his attention. You, taking his arm while walking side to side. In fact, he suppressed smothering his face into your cheek today at lunch—cuteness aggression— as he tried to eat his food in peace. You were enjoying your pasta, humming contentedly after your first bite, you smiled at him when you caught him watching you intently. Leon was never into taking pictures but at that moment, he wanted to engrave the picture of you smiling up at him lovingly into his memory for the future, remember your crinkled eyes and adorably scrunched up nose when he would miss you. He knew he would miss that moment right when it was happening, he’d be gone again for an assignment soon. 

“What?” You laughed.

“That good?” he asked, eyes pointing to your bowl of pasta. 

“Yep! Want some?” 

Leon keeps clinging until your body twitches no longer, takes deep breaths against your neck, pleased as his heat completely stills you. His hold relaxes as he becomes aware of his grip strength. He releases his clamped fingers from your breast, stroking your nipple apologetically. It will surely leave a mark on your soft skin, which you will whine about later, though he knows deep down you enjoy him being rough with you. After all, it was you who brought up that you weren’t made of glass, he didn’t need to act as if you were going to break. 

Your soft sighs soothe him to an extent, as far as the strain in his boxers allow. Fuck it, he thinks. He’s still humping your backside, cock throbbing. He’s going to wake you up. Pounce on you once you open your eyes. 

Forefinger and thumb pinching a hardening nipple, he nuzzles his face into where your neck meets your shoulder, dropping heavy kisses first, then switching to sucking your skin. If he could drown in your smell, he would. “Honey, please wake up.” 

“Hm?” He hears you, heart starting to beat even faster. “Leon?” Your first touch is on his arms, fingertips ice cold, groggy voice calling to him. 

“You awake?” he breathes in your ear. 

Feeling tickled, your shoulder rises to your ear. “Clearly,” you reply hoarsely. His thigh is glued to the back of yours, reaching back to hold it, you manage to slow his movements. His erection is fully pressed against you. “Everything okay?” 

“No.” He pants in your hair. “Need to fuck you.” 

“Leon,” you groan, face dropping fully into your pillow. “I’m too tired.” 

“Please, you don’t need to do anything.” 

“Don’t think I can even lift my leg.” 

“Then don’t. I’ll do everything. Lift your hips for a second so I can get this off?” 

“Fine,” you huff, rolling onto your stomach so his strong-willed hands can strip off your shorts along with your underwear. “We don’t have lube.” 

He drops a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll just have to prep you.” 

Ugh, so sweet. “Make it quick,” you say as he carefully sits on the backs of your thighs, his knees trapping your legs together. “How do we do this?” 

“Stay still,” he mumbles, barely audible. You grow impatient as you hear him moving in the dark, taking off his only piece of clothing. He reaches over to the bedside drawer to turn on the lamp. The blanket is scattered across the bed. You hiss sharply, eyes adjusting to the soft light. 

He holds your shoulders firmly. “What’s wrong?” 

“Why is it so cold?” 

Somehow, you can hear him grinning behind you. “The AC’s broken.” 

“Have you tried calling the reception? It’s too cold for this.” 

“I’ll warm you up,” he says as his heat hovers over you, fingers hiking up your flimsy camisole to gain access to your waist, the other hand shaking off the thin straps. He buries his nose into the back of your neck, kissing a path to your right shoulder, sharp teeth grazing skin along the way. He shifts his attention to your left shoulder, reaching down to cup your ass, pulling apart your cheeks. His fingers find your sex straight away; he’s familiar with your body. 

“You’re a bit wet for someone who’s feeling too tired,” he teases. 

You don’t bother with pleasantries. “I will leave you blue-balled for the rest of the week.” 

“Right,” he says. “Lift your head up.” 

“I just woke up, you’re asking for too much from me.” 

He nudges his nose into the back of your ear instead of answering. Kiss me, he demands, pressing his hips to your plushness. Familiar with his silent commands, you submit to his reign, craning your neck back, open mouth chasing his. 

Your mouths clash unceremoniously. It’s messy, sloven, uncoordinated, and animalistic. He finds your tongue in no time, suckling on the wet muscle all the while managing to lift your shoulders off the bed to drop your thin straps around your elbows, pulling your camisole down. Now your top sits below your naked breasts, bunched around your middle like a thick headband. Leon’s jaw moves as if he’s thirsty, drinking from your mouth unapologetically. The noises from your so-called kissing are obscene, filling the room along with the sounds of heavy breathing. Heat starts to pool in your lower belly, body slowly warming up. 

Quick as a wink, a strong hand wraps around the back of your neck, pushing you face down to the mattress. Your surprised yelp into your pillow is cut short once he pulls your hair gently, laughing next to your ear. “Don’t want you to suffocate. Try to keep your head up. Can you do that for me, honey?” 

Rolling your eyes, you bite back a remark. Resting your cheek on the pillow is all he’s going to get. After all, he did tell you that you didn’t need to do anything. Your crushed breasts feel funny, one side aching considerably more than the other, owing to him groping it roughly while you were sleeping. 

Leon lets out a low chuckle and continues his undeterred path from your jaw to your neck, nipping at skin, leaving a stinging sensation behind. His knees make room for your squirming legs, a perfect chance for him to dip his hand between your thighs, a slight part of your legs to accommodate his fingers on your cunt. Rubbing your lower lips, he slicks his fingers with your wetness. 

Your breath hitches when two pads of fingers make contact with your clit, drawing tight circles. “That feel good?” His voice is muffled by your skin. 

You groan a noise of confirmation as he puts more pressure on his fingertips, quickening his movements on your now soaked pussy. His thumb catches at your entrance, maybe accidentally, and you can’t hold yourself back from pursuing that pleasure, back arching so your hips could sway up, chasing his touch. Thankfully, he is quick to place his thumb back, swiping back and forth. The double stimulation on your opening and clit creates enough lubrication for him to slide right in. 

Your eagerness doesn’t go unnoticed by Leon, the feel of his teeth on your earlobe is a wary appreciation. “Too tired, huh? Look at you.” He means your hips in the air, quivering right in front of his view. “Lemme help you relax.” 

You think he’ll finally thrust himself in, however, you’re taken by surprise when he works two fingers into you, the stretch unexpected, but appreciated nonetheless. He shoves your hips back down into the mattress, arm across the small of your back to keep you steady against the bed. “Don’t be disappointed. I need to open you up first,” he speaks into your temple, nose pressed to the tail of your eyebrow. He starts moving his fingers in and out. “Don’t want you to hurt.” 

He grabs a handful of your ass to pull apart while working your cunt open with his fingers. Your whole body feels electrified each time he strokes the velvety walls of your pussy, throat humming with need. 

“Leon…” you moan, wanting to arch into him. Your desperate hand slides under your belly to touch your clit. “Enough.” 

But that’s not what you want to tell him. You want to tell him this is not enough, he needs to be inside you right now or you will start to wail, turn over and jump his bones. This is quite the opposite from where everything started, with you worked up and fussy in his hands, unable to speak properly. 

You feel him watching his own hand between your legs, ears perked up for the sounds coming from where you are gushing, shallowing his thrusts once he feels your fingers join in. “Enough? You don’t want to come first?” 

“S’cold,” you cry out. “Fuck me already.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, honey,” he coos at you, pulling his soaked digits out of you, head rising to meet with your parted lips. The arm around your waist slides up, fingers gently digging into your scalp to hold you in place as he kisses you, using the fingers he just pulled out of you to slick up his cock. He moans into your mouth before pulling away. 

“You have me. Ready?” 

You nod into the pillow. 

As he presses his swollen tip into you, he watches the back of your head tip back with a shiver, your neck exposed for him to reach and grab. Instead, he wraps his arm around your neck in a gentle headlock, helping you rest your cheek on his bicep, the movement helping him slip further inside you. 

Hot, bullish breaths burrow into your neck when he is buried to the hilt, balls pressed against your clit and fingers that are spreading yourself. 

“Fuck, you smell so good,” he whispers, his torso meeting your back. 

He presses his entire weight down onto you and it is glorious, being trapped between him and the mattress, surrounded by his body heat with no room to flee. Not that you even consider it. Though your wrist, strained under the weight, digs into your pelvis as he begins to thrust feverishly. “Oh, fuck,” he grunts. 

Your mouth opens to let him know of the awkward position your arm is in but you only manage to moan wantonly. He takes it as a cue to snap his hips faster. 

“Wait, Leon—my wrist.” 

He stops completely, lifting his hips slightly for you to pull your arm out from underneath, dropping a kiss in your hair as an apology. “Fuck, sorry. Forgot your hand was there. Are you good? Am I too heavy?” 

Your hands fist around the sheets to brace yourself. He did not pull himself fully out of you, you just want him to fill you to the brim again. Even though you don’t know if you can come like this. “No, I’m good. Let’s continue.” 

As your wish comes true, his hips pick up a frenzied pace, the bed starts to shake. You don’t know how he manages it, you’re immobilized under him, high on the pleasurable feeling. Your poor nipples are chafing against the sheets with all the movement. The noises escaping your lips are embarrassingly loud, mingling with the creaky springs of the hotel bed. He doesn’t hold back either, sucking love-bites wherever his mouth can reach, moaning against your spit-lacquered skin. Palms sliding under your shoulders to hold you even closer, he squeezes you to himself while letting his weight push you hard into the mattress. 

It’s as if he wants to open up his chest and tuck you beneath his ribs, or crawl beneath your skin from behind, until you both become one. 

His pace falters, you squeak as he bottoms out, walls pulsing around him. He must have been desperately horny, for he is spitting out delirious things in your ear. “Fuck, fuck, fuck— you look so cute. You always do.” 

“Huh?” 

Rather than addressing your confusion, he leans in your face. One hand cups your jaw, guiding your face to his, squishing your cheeks together until your lips are puckered, ready for him to attack, though it’s a pleasant assault of kisses. “You’re so—” Kiss. “Soft.” Kiss. “It makes me crazy.” Kiss. “And you always smell so good.” Kiss. 

“Leon, what’s gotten into you—mmph!” 

He doesn’t care about what you have to say about his raving state; instead, he crashes his lips to yours for a longer, deeper kiss. His strong arm hugs your neck again, cradling you to himself. You swallow his animalistic groan when your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling on the tresses while trying to squirm. His hair has gotten so long; a luxury of taking time off work. 

His hips start to grind, precise snaps eliciting small sounds out of both of you, his cock massaging your innermost crevices. 

“You’re like an angel,” he whispers in your mouth, panting wildly. “You feel like heaven. God, I love you. I can’t believe—shit, I’m close. I’m gonna come. Tell me where to come.” 

If he wasn’t literally in your face, you might have missed it—that sacred, dangerous word slipping past his lips as if it was an everyday occurrence. 

It didn’t even register at first, partly because it happened so quickly and partly because it made you clamp down on him with an intense ripple of pleasure, causing him to grunt. 

Losing all strength in your muscles, you sag against his arm on the pillow, neck too numb to keep your head up, feet plopping down with a pat. When did you lift your feet up? 

Like a snap of a thread, his demeanor changes instantly. Concerned, he brushes your hair away from your face hastily. “Baby, did you just come?” 

A sound resembling “yes” is murmured into your pillow, your whole body feeling prickly upon the fondness in his voice, spasming uncontrollably. He’s still inside you, reaching incredibly deep, hip bones digging into the meat of your ass, caging you in his warmth. 

“Didn’t even need me to touch your clit,” he says. There’s that smugness in his tone, like he didn’t just rock your whole world. 

Feeling fuzzy around the edges, you remember his need to have a release, and words rush out without much thought, “Inside. Come inside.” 

The faint rhythm of his hips turn sloppy upon hearing you. He’s gasping, “Are you sure?” 

“Yes, I’m on the pill.” 

“Fuck. Thank you, baby.” 

His face finds home in your neck again. It’s not long before you feel the thick trickle of warmth filling you up. Coming to his senses, his arms loosen around you, waiting for his breathing to turn to normal. 

You can sleep like this, you think. With him literally in your skin, smothered under his delectable weight. It’s calming. 

Eventually, he pulls out and rolls over on his back, the absence of his weight feels oddly sad. He turns his neck towards you. “That was… something else. How are you feeling?” 

You stretch your arms, sliding them under your pillow. “Like I’ve just run a marathon. And I didn’t even move much.” 

“Now that you’re properly tired, you’re gonna sleep like a log.” He chuckles, throwing an arm on his forehead. 

You slide a hand between your legs, knitting your eyebrows, reconsidering. “We need to clean up first.” 

“Right,” he sighs. “I promised you I wouldn’t make you move, didn’t I? Wait here.”

Before you can say anything, he gets up from the bed, picks up his underwear from the ground and heads to the bathroom. You don’t move in case the viscid fluids threaten to leak onto the bed. He comes back with a few rolled-up toilet papers and a damp towel, with his underwear on. He sits on the edge of the bed next to you. 

You spread your legs as he holds up the rolled-up toilet papers to your dripping entrance. “Push it out.” 

You squeeze out the mixture of you and him. Your cheeks flare up, not because of embarrassment. But because of something else. Him instructing you with a raspy voice shouldn’t get you fired up, your limbs are still weak from the earth-shattering orgasm he pulled out of you, but your body reacts on its own volition. 

“I didn’t know you were on the pill,” he continues as he wipes down your sweat with the towel. 

“A recent development,” you say, eyes heavy with sleepiness. “Started it a while ago, I meant to tell you.” 

“That’s fine.” He cleans up the residue between your thighs lastly. The pressure of his touch is so careful, in case you’re overstimulated. “Honestly, I think I found out about it in the best way.” 

A small chuckle from you eases his heart. The image of you lying naked on your belly, your head turned to the side with bleary eyes is like a painting to him. He leans down and places a gentle kiss between your shoulder blades. 

“Can I wake you up in the morning?” he mutters into your skin before hoisting your camisole to its place on your shoulders. 

You understand his implication. “Yeah, but no sooner than eight or I’ll be super cranky.” 

“We’ll miss breakfast.” 

“Breakfast or sex. The choice is yours.” 

“Room service it is.” 

Eventually, he finds your panties and shorts under the blankets, lifts them up over your hips, and finishes dressing you.

You give him a smile, fingers resting on your lips as you ponder. “I have something to ask you.”

“I know,” he replies, too quickly. He’s aware of the things he’s just said. “I know you want to talk about it. But I feel awful for disturbing your sleep. You’re tired. We can talk all you want in the morning. Just know that I meant it.” 

“C’mere,” you whisper, rolling onto your side to reach out to him.

This time, it’s Leon who seeks warmth, succumbing to the balmy caress of your hand as you pull him in.

The kiss is too soft, too fragile, and he wants it to linger forever. 

He’s offended when you pull away abruptly. But that feeling is short-lived as you turn your head away to sneeze twice. “Bless you,” he says. 

Deep down inside, remembering he changed the settings of the AC, he rolls his eyes at himself. He gets up and turns it off, throwing the soiled toilet papers in the trash on his way. “I’ll call the reception the first thing tomorrow.” 

Leon is insatiable. 

The first things he notices when he opens his crusty eyes is his morning wood and the deep red hues scattered across the back of your neck in front of his face. Wiping the sleep from his eyes with one hand—the other arm trapped under your neck—he presses himself to your backside. A repeat of what started everything. 

He retracts after letting out a low growl into your hair, only to roll you on your back by your shoulders. You’re still asleep, muscles all soft and pliant under his maneuvering. So pretty, he thinks. The tiny flutter of your eyelashes casts soft, quivering shadows on the apples of your cheeks as warm sunlight streams into the room through a narrow gap in the curtains. Hovering over you between your legs, he cups your face, thumbs caressing the dainty shadows. His breaths fan your face as a gentle nudge to your slumber. 

“Baby…” he croaks, voice all ragged from hours of disuse over the night. 

Even in your sleep you seek out his touch, nuzzling your face into his palm, rousing something carnal in him. His lips get to work on your throat briskly, sucking the delicate skin, humming against it. 

He feels the vibrations of the mellow sound your throat gives out against his lips and continues the path down to your clavicle, leaving ruddy blemishes behind. Rubbing up and down on your thighs, his palms curve behind the backs of your knees, bending them to spread your legs completely open against the bed. He presses his hard-on to your center. 

Your cunt must be sore, he’ll kiss it better. 

He mouths at the tops of your breasts, palms fondling them up in his face. “I’ll take care of you,” he whispers, though you’re too drowsy to hear. 

His head slips down the blanket, your cover slides down your body as it gets caught on his broad back, opening an airway for him. 

He starts littering kisses on the inside of your thigh, beginning from your knee and continuing the path up to your groin, pulling back each time his nose touches the verge of your panties. He looks up expectantly to see you stir. Because once he sees you awake, he’ll devour you. 

You are stirring, head lolling in an attempt to turn on your side. Leon’s hands quickly clamp down on your thighs, “Nuh-uh.” He denies you, keeping your hips still. His mouth switches to your other thigh, repeating his ministrations. 

His teeth graze the edge of your underwear. Your leg twitches under his touch, which further encourages his sudden urge. 

Blunt teeth sink into the soft, supple flesh of your inner thigh. 

That seems to wake you up as your head jerks, hand flying to his hair between your legs under the blanket. “Ow.” 

“Morning.” His tongue darts out to soothe the dull ache. 

With heavy eyelids, you crane your neck to assess the situation. His lips are slick and plump from all the kissing and biting. “Mhm. Good morning.” Yawning, you cover your mouth with the back of your hand, the other one cards through Leon’s hair lazily. As your grip tightens, you drop your head back to the pillow to blink away the haziness. 

The sounds of his lips smacking against your skin are accompanied by the fan noises filling the room. You realize you’re no longer sweating like you were through the night, when the broken air-conditioning left you sweltering—or would have had you freezing if it were actually running. You’re confused. “AC’s working again?” 

You feel him smiling against your thigh. “Yeah. Called the reception and everything.” 

“What was wrong with it?” 

“I’m literally in between your legs and that’s what you wanna know? Like, right now?” He nuzzles your underwear, placing a kiss on your clothed center to stress his frustration, which you reply with a startled whimper. 

“First, I risked frostbite and then sweated like it was hell. Of fucking course I wanna know the reason of my suffering.” 

“You didn’t suffer,” he says in a jeering tone, fingers hooking under your panties to peel them off. He’s quick to get rid of that obstructive piece of fabric. “I’d say I took pretty good care of you.” 

You roll your eyes dramatically. “Yeah, yeah—world’s best husband or whatever, keeps waking me up because he’s horny.” 

“Hey, you said breakfast or pussy and I made my choice.” 

He licks a path up from your entrance to your clit, your hips jump. He grips your thighs and slings them over his shoulders. 

“I did not say that.” Words slurred, your eyes close upon the honeyed sensation. 

“Something along those lines,” he mumbles, lips brushing against the sensitive little bud of nerves. 

You kick the blanket off his back so he doesn’t suffocate under the heat. The slight temperature change makes your hips jerk up to his face, his morning stubble scratches the insides of your thighs deliciously. He drapes an arm across your abdomen to keep you steady. His other arm tugs on the thigh slung over his shoulder, only slightly, to make room for his head. 

Two fingers brush your slit, spreading apart slowly to gain access to your most sensitive parts. It’s still a little tender and swollen that when his hot breath fans across the sensitive flesh, your legs try to shut instinctively. His hold grows stronger to remind you not to squash his head. He licks a broad swipe up your slit and looks up at you through his long lashes. 

You can’t help but moan. He looks so pretty like this. 

Leaning forward, he places a kiss directly on your clitoris, the soft smack sound sends a hot burn to your ears. 

He parts his lips to suck your sensitive clit into his mouth, your back arches as you gasp. His plump lips pull on the taut flesh, making you writhe against the sheets. Now aware of your fist that was bunching the sheets this whole time, you let go to join it with your other hand in his hair.  

He’s always liked your hands in his hair, petting it, tugging at it, pulling it to steer him to where you need him most, he loves it all. He moans as you make a mess of his soft tresses, sending jolts of vibrations up your body. 

Relaxing his tight jaw with a wet pop, he quickly drops a kiss to the juncture of your thigh and begins to lap up your dripping mound like a starved man. 

“Leon!” Your back arches again, hands buried in his hair pressing his face firmly between your legs. You’re not sure if he can even breathe with your thighs caging him. You don’t care, he’ll tap you if he wants to take a breather. 

Blindly, the hand that keeps your slit open slides up to your chest, to push between the valley of your breasts. You clutch your palm on the back of his hand, fingers slotting between his. He squeezes his hand once. I’m alright, it means. He keeps your intertwined hands there. 

His face burrows deeper into your slick, thrusting his tongue into your hole in and out. Nose pressed against your clit, he hums contentedly and starts wiggling his head, sending a wave of pleasure through your body. 

The gasps that fall from your lips fuel him, he drags his tongue back up to your sensitive bud, flicking up and down with only one goal in his mind. 

Up and down. Suck. Up and down. Suck. 

“Too much, ‘s too much!” You repeat with a shaky voice. But you are insatiable too, with the way you guide his hand to your tit, encouraging him to squeeze tight. 

“I know, baby, I know. Just tell me when,” he rasps, trying to keep up with your bucking hips. Groping your breast under your pressing palm, he can’t quite reach to your shoulder to lower the straps of your top, though his fingers find your taut nipple through the fabric and start to draw circles around the pebbled peak. 

His stubble burns your thighs so good it only drives you more crazy. Your droopy eyes lock with his determined ones, mouth hanging open in a silent moan, hand brushing away the hair on his forehead. 

He tightens his tongue and places the tip of it right on your sensitive clit, wriggling the wet muscle in a snake-like fashion, and listens to your moans. Each roll of his tongue is a sweet torment, delivering sparks of pleasure to your quivering body. 

“That’s not—ah!—that’s not fair.” 

His mouth never leaving your pussy, he hums questioningly. “Mm?” The short syllable vibrates through your core, making you fussier. 

What’s not fair? His hips grinding into the mattress? The hand that previously held you down now slipping under his boxers to rub his slick, swollen tip? Fairness is not even the last thing on his mind right now. He’s too drunk on your essence, happily suffocated between your legs, unaware of the fast pace his hand picks up on his cock. He’s fully pumping himself. 

You also know you’re not making any sense. A hot blush warms your chest, travels up your neck to your ears, a thin sheen of sweat coating your skin. Your body is screaming for release, of course you don’t have any idea what you are blabbering about. 

Feeling your clit pulse beneath his tongue, he waits to hear your staccato breathing, waits for the tumble of unintelligible words to fall on his ears. 

“Leon, I’m… I’m—ah, fuck!” 

Just before the intense wave of pleasure comes crashing down on you, he tears his mouth away from you, panting for oxygen. 

“No, please,” you cry out. “Don’t be mean.” 

Not wanting to deny you stimulation, he gets to work on your tit and gives it a firm squeeze for good measure before returning his fingers to your aching nipple. He toys with it, flicking, pressing down, pinching through fabric. You whine softly through it all, trying to wrap your trembling legs tighter around his head so he could return to what he was doing before. 

“Please, I was about to come…” 

“I know, honey, I’m sorry. I needed to breathe.” He plucks at your nipple, rolling it before returning to your sex. 

This time he alternates between kitten licks and soft kisses on your clit, meant to be soothing. It feels as if he’s grazing a feather on your oversensitive, swelled up nerves. It’s so ticklish that your hips jump to chase after the phantom itch. 

That’s all it takes for the overwhelming waves of pleasure to come crashing down on you. The coil in your belly snaps. Eager as ever, he presses his open and panting mouth against your cunt, moaning against the spasming flesh. Cleaning up the remnants of your climax is only a poor excuse for his lips to linger. He presses a kiss to your thigh before pulling away from between your legs, the slick coating his mouth and chin leaves your skin damp. 

Taking a deep breath, he rises to sit on his knees between your thighs. Your legs drop from his shoulders. Pride fills his chest once he eyes up the litter of love-bites on your flushed skin. His doing. The rapid rise and fall of your chest. Also his doing. 

Through a fucked-out smile, you say, “What? What’s so funny?” 

Unaware that he’s cheesing, he shakes his head. “Nothing, honey. You look so pretty.” 

“I feel nasty, though.” 

He shuts you up with a kiss, making you taste yourself on his tongue. 

“Mm… How about you?” you mumble into the kiss while ruffling his soft hair. 

His hips are grinding against his hand in a faint rhythm, palm stroking up and down slowly. He huffs. “Keep spreading your legs and it won’t take long.” 

Discerning the questioning raise of your brow, he swipes a thumb at the corner of your lip. “I’m not gonna put it in. I know you’re sensitive, baby. Trust me. Please?” 

You wiggle a bit to open your legs further, trying to find a comfortable spot on the bed because the way he kept pinning you has you feeling sores on your butt. “Yeah, okay.” 

Lining himself up against your slit, he hovers his cock above your puffy cunt and keeps stroking. He groans and bucks into his hand, head falling backwards. You whimper and bunch the sheets in your fists. He looks so hot. His hair is chaotically messy, lips swollen and slick, hand working desperately on his cock. Your pussy flutters at the sight. 

Eyes zeroing in on your center, he says, “Show me. Hold yourself open.” 

You reach down and spread yourself for him, shamelessly displaying what he wants. Your hole clenches down on nothing upon the little stretch, pulling another groan out of him. 

He’s grinning, head tilted to the side. “Fuck, that’s it. Like what you see, huh?” 

You nod fast, staring at the movement between your legs. It’s captivating. 

Feeling devious, you lift your hips slightly to touch your pulsing clit to his red tip, directly to his precum-coated slit. Like a featherlight kiss. It sends a pleasurable shock through your entire body, you plop down on the bed again. 

“Oh shit��you…” His expression tells you he’s very close.

Gripping your thigh, he jerks himself to completion against your twitching pussy. Thick spurts of cum coat your center and belly, your thighs get to have their fair share, too. 

A breathless laugh escapes him, like he can’t quite believe what just happened. His gaze softens, as though clearing a daze. “I’m sorry. Let me carry you to the bathroom.”

A quiet shift lingers in the air. 

He’s so silent while massaging shampoo into your hair, cocooned by your arms around his waist, water cascading over his back. His lips are set in a straight line, eyes roaming your face and coming back to meet your gaze every once in a while. 

You and him, in that sacred, safe haven again. 

I can hear you think. He wills you to speak without saying the words. 

“You don’t need to be scared.” 

His hands pause in your hair. Of what? 

“The things you said at the beach yesterday… You don’t need to be scared, Leon. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you,” you continue. 

He pulls you closer, cups the back of your neck and rests your head on his shoulder. I love you. 

“And I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing your face. I miss it terribly when you’re away.” You nudge his neck with your nose. 

He closes his eyes. I love you. 

“Tell me a truth?” you whisper, watching the slow up and down of his Adam’s apple. 

The urge to draw you even closer to himself is too strong. Come, live inside my skin—I’m yours, anyway. Instead, he opens his heavy-lidded eyes, locking his gaze with yours. 

“I love you.” 

With a slow and languid kiss, he seals his lips to yours, weaving your souls together in that tranquil, infinite moment. 

“At times I think of human relationships as something soft like sand or water, and by pouring them into particular vessels we give them shape.”

― Sally Rooney, Beautiful World, Where Are You

[moonstruckme]

Love, OMG?? the doctor!rem fix killed me 😭 do you think you might do part 2 where shes bedridden and he's taking care of her?? currently sick too 😭

Thanks for requesting!

part 1 | part 2

Doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 962 words

Remus has got you all doped up. You didn’t even bother asking him what the pills he handed you a few hours ago were, but now you’re feeling tired and teary. 

“Rem.” Your voice is hoarse, barely there. You try again. “Remus.” 

A head of fluffy brown hair pops out of the kitchen. “You calling me, sweetheart?” 

You swallow. “Yeah.” 

“Oh, honey,” Remus eyebrows pinch together as he comes down the hallway to you. “You sound awful, I could barely hear you.” 

“Sorry,” you croak, the sympathy in his voice only serving to tighten your throat. “Did you roofie me?” 

His eyebrows raise as he sits on the edge of the bed, rubbing your leg through the sheets. “Think they’d have my license for that one, dove. Why do you ask?” 

“I’m really sleepy.” 

Remus nods. “That’s alright. You took the nighttime ones, remember? It’s a good idea to rest right now.”

“Oh.” You hadn’t remembered. Remus frowns like he can tell. 

“Wait one second, dove.” He disappears back down the hall, returning a few moments later with a steaming cup of tea. “I put honey in it, so it should help with your throat for a little while.” He passes it to you carefully, keeping a hand on it as you raise it to your lips just in case you drop it. “Careful, there you go. Alright if I take your temp again?”

You nod, blowing gently on your tea while Remus puts the thermometer in your ear. You relish the feel of the steam on your face, and your first sip is so saccharine you wonder how much of the tea is actually tea and how much is just honey. It’s good like this, though. You lean forward until your forehead rests on Remus’ shoulder. You would’ve assumed that doctors would be so desensitized to illness that they’d have no bedside manner left for when they’re off the clock, but Remus is being so extra sweet to you. He’s made you drink probably four gallons of water, sure, but it’s all “sweetheart” this and “dovey” that, and you don’t think you’ve ever received a more soothing back rub than the one he gave you this morning. You don’t actually mind being sick all that much while he’s here to take care of you.

You’re so caught up in your maudlin reverie that you’ve forgotten the device in your ear by the time it beeps, and you jump. 

“Sorry,” Remus laughs, surprised by your reaction. He puts a hand behind your neck, helping you ease yourself back down onto the pillow. “You start to drift off there, lovely?”

“A little,” you admit, pulling the covers up over your shoulders as a shiver takes you.

He hums, the sound half amusement and half concern. “Well, your fever’s gone down a bit at least, so the medicine seems to be doing its work. How’re you feeling?” 

“I feel like I’m dying,” you reply, picking your phone up off your pillow to wave it about, “and I checked, the internet agrees with me.”

“Oh, really?” Remus smiles as he brushes a few wayward strands of hair from your forehead. “I suppose it’s a good thing you have the internet to tell you that, since there’s not, say, a fully qualified medical professional at your disposal.” 

“What is it you’re always saying?” you ask him, and the tea really is making your throat feel better; the warm honey coats your mistreated esophagus like a balm. “It never hurts to get a second opinion? Anyway, you never said the flu would make my legs hurt like this.” 

Remus blinks. “Your legs?”

“Mhm.” You flex your feet, bringing to life the ache that’s plagued you for the last several hours as if to prove it to him. “They hurt.” 

Remus frowns as he feels for your leg through the covers. “What part hurts, honey?”

“All up and down them.”

Remus cuts an odd look your way before his hand finds your calf. He squeezes, and you hiss.

“Ouch!” you say. “Fuck, yeah, it’s there.” 

Remus laughs. Actually laughs, and ever harder when you look at him with betrayal in your eyes. “Sweetheart,” he says. “Honey, my darling, do you remember how we went ice skating yesterday?” 

You feel your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Yeah?”

“And do you see how that would work out muscles you don’t usually use all that much?”

Your frown worsens. “Sure. Why?”

The smile Remus gives you is kind, but you can still see the amusement twinkling in his eyes. “You’re sore, dovey. It’s got nothing to do with the flu, you just worked the muscles in your legs a bit harder than they’re used to. I’m feeling it in my calves, too.” 

“Oh.” You nestle into the covers until they reach halfway up your face, retreating in embarrassment. Remus laughs again, pushing the sheets down under your chin and kissing your face. His nose is cold where it mushes into your feverish skin. 

“Sorry, I’m not making fun of you,” he promises, though he’s snickering. “I mean, I will, but not when you’re so unwell. You’re still my poor girl for now.” 

“I like poor girl privilege,” you decide, turning your cheek so he’ll kiss it again. He does, smiling against your skin. 

“You know what other privileges you get?” Remus asks you. “Other than tea and a hiatus from teasing?” You hum contentedly. “I’ll tell you something I never tell my other patients.” 

“What’s that?” you ask him, unsure if your sudden dizziness is from the fever or just the effect his affection has on you. 

Remus climbs over you, slipping beneath the covers and pulling you up against him. “Cuddles are the best cure for the flu.”

[ihavenoideawhatiamdoingjustgay2]

Once a Blue Moon

Genre : Sick-fic

Notes : The header is hyperboling it she's fine you guys, not edited yet, pls tell me if you find an error though, domestic fluff if you squint, fluff fluff fluff,A good counterpart for this one is "Those Stars in your Eyes" where you are sick,

Sypnoses : Arlecchino comes home, already not feeling well, will it get worse?

Words : 2.689

Take me to AO3

You have no idea when you had woken up, it could have been five minutes, or half an hour, time passed like that when you had someone to look at beside you, someone who had put her wing around your sleeping form, keeping you warm in this cold room, she knew that, so she took it upon herself to keep you warm in her little ways she only showed in her discreet manners. You sighed into her chest, silent, your eyes still closed. She would probably have to wake soon, but it was odd for you to awake earlier than her, a nice odity though, so you`d use it to your advantage, just for the memory, you would most likely fall asleep soon anyways, your heartbeat already slowing down. You pulled her closer to you, hiding from the small sliver of ligth.

Ligth?

Ligth!?

You shock up from your half sleep and there was, indeed ligth, shining rigth onto her face. Her eyes were closed shut and she was biting her lips.

„Huh.“ your hand brushed her bangs away. „Even in sleep, you can not find peace.“ you watch her as she does not move then eye the clock. Your eyes go wide.

„Arlecchino?“ you shake her shoulder. She did not even notice. You knew having her go to sleep with a fever was a bad idea! „Arlecchino are you dead?“ you nearly shout, still shaking her. Oh you knew something was wrong after yesterday!

***

You stand in front of a hearth, watching the Keetle, waiting for its familiar screeching sound, waiting for the door to slam. You stretch a bit and your back cracks, the maid behind you cringes.

Arlecchino had sent you a messenger yesterday evening, telling you not to wait and that the meeting would go a bit longer than planned. A bit was a codeword for `the whole nigth` from now on apparently. You weren`t happy waking to a cold place next to you, but you knew she`d be even more unhappy standing around a whole night with coleuges that she despised. You just got done pouring the tea when the slam came. Perfect timing. You waited a few seconds, but only the clicking of high heels sounded in your ears.

„Jules, do go out and take a break.“ you say to the very maid that cringed as she cleaned some counter tops. She dissapeard as Arlecchino entered the room, a big thundercloud above her head.

„Only thinking of themselves, aren`t they?“ she asked, trying to reach the tea, but you take her hand before she could.

„It is not finished yet.“ you tell her and she presses her hands against the counter.

„It is just rediculess, they are throwing ideas at eachothers heads and see what will stick! As if this isn`t the biggest project of the Fatui yet!“

You have your hand slide to hers. She looks at it, then at you. „No one is here?“

„We are alone.“

She pulls you into her strong arms rigth away, hugging you tigth, hiding her face in your neck. Her rather hot face, you notice now. She mutered insults into your neck, directed at her colleagues.

„The outside wasn`t able to calm you.“

She shock her head, and abandond her place in your neck in favor of looking into your eyes, or trying to. „The palace is colder than the outside, staying in there for so long with nothing but my coat...“ you saw her go over the meeting in her mind, pick it apart, seeth.

„Do you think that you catched something?“ you put your hand against her forehead.

„Mayhabs, what do you think, dear?“

She couldn`t have had a better timing for cough.

You removed your hand and checked the tea. „I think you`re sick.“

She shrugged.“It`s just an itch., nothing a little tea can`t fix.“

You sqeeze both bags out. „Sure.“ You had to go shoping anyways, maybe you could get some vitamine pills.

She takes the tea from your hand, leaving the kitchen. „I will see you at the orphanage then?“

„Arlecchino.“ she turned at your tone.“Didn`t you forget something?“

She stared at you, she rolled her eyes when it clicked. „You are too corny for me.“ she pulled you close, kissing your temple, before making her way to the office.

„I will see you at the house, do try to get some sleep!“

„Yeah, yeah.“

***

She had indeed joined you later when you were at the playground close by, looking less elegant than usuall, wearing her coat. She had hid herself in your neck, telling you how she was even more tired after her nap. You had added candles to your shopping list and more tea.

„Arlecchino!“ you said one last time and she woke up in a coughing fit. You fall around her arms rigth away. „Oh thank the archons you aren`t dead!“

„Of course I am not dead you fool! Get off me!“ you do so, helping her sit up, getting her water. She was boiling when you touched her hand. „Archons I am cold...what time is it.“

„Nine.“ you say.

She curses in fontanian while jumping out of the bed, having her hair cascade down. She had to stabilize herself. You tried to form a coherent argument as to why she should stay home as she gets dressed.

You follow her to the vanity as she gets her jacket. „You are sick!“

„Yes I know.“ she brushed through her hair, styling it, coughing in between.

„There was already a meeting last nigth! Why would you have to go again?“

She fastened the winged accesoire in her hair. „It will be short this time and it is only between the top five.“

You crossed your arms in front of your chest. „Arlecchino.“ she stood up, looking ready, but you knew her well enough.“You will call in sick.“

„I am afraid that won`t work, my love.“

You sighed as she took out her coat. „Do you really want your co-workers to notice your weakness?“

„They cough themselves at the cold, it won`t be much of an issue.“

You put yourself in front of the door, blocking her way. „I do not want you to go. You are sick and need to be taken care of.“

She moved up to you, slowly, nearly like a predator, shoes clicking on the floor. „Dear.“ she said with a sligth edge.

„How dare you trying to threathen me!“ you nearly shout. She isn`t faced by it, remaining in her calm demeanor, putting her hands on your shoulders, pulling you aside.

„I need to get to work, dear.“ there is an urge in her eyes. „How about a comprimise? I will go to this meeting, get home and will take a much needed break. I will take the weekend off too.“

You thougth about it, watched the clock, then at her. This was a good deal, even if it felt like the ilusion of a comprimise. „Ok, but you will get home rigth after it is over.“

She pressed her hot lips against your forehead. „I will see you later.“

You whisper an „I love you.“, watching her get away, hurying through the front door.

You always fell for her ways.

***

You sit on a sofa close to the front door, a small table with a lamp on it next to you. You had just returned from shopping and Jules was stacking everything up in the kitchen. You had also made a short trip to the House, to say hello to the children and to inform them that their „Father“ would be gone for the weekend. They had been sad, but there was nothing to do about it, they shouldn`t get sick to, you yourself had avoided the Infants because of that reason, considering everything, you migth get sick to, or were already and just didn`t notice it.

It was then that the door opened, it made you look up to the pale figure entering the house. She was coughing rigth away. You watched in silence. She looked up, towards you. „Hello Honey.“ she said, weirdly soft.

„Bed.“ you just said and she put her hands up as if she were a criminal that was just caugth.

„Whatever you want.“

When she was gone you went into the next room, telling Jules to warm up some water to put the Vitamins in. Then you went up yourself.

She was sitting in front of the vanity, removingher make up, earrings and what not. You leaned against the closed door, watching untill she was finished. She then watched you, proping her head up on her hands. How can she look so sick but so elegant at the same time?

A smile then crocked at her lips. „No kiss?“

„You-“ you take a breath before shouting. Control your emotions. „Just get to bed, I will check on Jules.“

She already moved to the bed. „Of course dear.“

You tch`d, moving out of the room to lean over the railing. „How is it going Jules?“

„It is all well! The water is already boiling.“

„Perfect, please do start on some chicken soup, and do not forget to kock.“

„Of course and I´d never!“

You nod, thinking a bit, before getting back to an Arlecchino that was sitting in bed properly, with the blanket covering her legs, her hand were folded above her lap and she wore the pink pyjamas you picked out. It was just that...you snickered, moving towards to sit on her lap.

„You need to button it, get all warmed up.“ you get your fingers on the top one while she is chuckling.

„Oh, I know.“ she pulls you closer by the waist, having her sharp nails scrape the fabric covering your skin, trying to get her hands under it.

„Getting clingy, eh?“ you ask, finishing up on the buttons.

She only shrugged, her other hand moving over to your thigh. „What will be your way to heal me?“

You shake your head, smiling. „My mom used to give me these vitamine pills when I was younger. Put them in some warm water, had them resolve? I got better in a day. Also some chicken soup.“

She nodded, acknowledgment in her eyes. „The same method you use on the children?“

You nod, hands moving towards her long silky hair to play with it. „You will be back to your feet in no time...how has the meeting been?“

„More civiliced, but I still felt as if I entered a circus. I am glad that you never have to meet them in such a setting.“

Her hands start kneading, nails carefully scraping your skin untill a knock is heard. You try to get up, but she holds you down. „Come in Jules.“

You blush, stopping in your actions, trying to find something else to do as she came in, look somewhere else. You could already feel the faint blush on your cheeks. You felt childish for it, youhad been married for about three years, she had kissed you in front of others. But this was way different. You looked back up at her when Jules was gone, as she took the tea. She crocked a brow, then smiled.

„I could have taken it.“

„I like you better here. Do you want some?“

She refered to the Tea, but you were sure you`d straigth up die if you`d drink it, it was that bitter indeed. So you took the glass with the vitamins, ony now noticing the thermometer. Smart Jules.

You simply hand it to Arlecchino with a „Check it?“ before having the taste of oranges fill your mouth. It was more amplified though, artificial, of course. Her hands and body had been more warm than the ussuall, you`d even compare her to a scorching sun rigth now. The thermometer beeped and you take it out before she can move her hand.

Forty two celcius. You bite your lip. „This is the highest fever I have ever seen personally.“

„I have had higher.“ she shrugged it off.

You look at her, an unspoken question in your face.

„Long story, I will tell you some other time.“

You nod, deciding that she`d go to the hospital if that high fever would accure. She then shooed you of her lap in favor of the soup. Of course she would take her end of the comprimise. She was your Peruere, after all. You had the name turn in your mind. It was still odd to you. Her name, how soft it sounded from her newer one that you had grown accostumed to. But sometimes it still fit her, like now, the Woman sitting in front of you, eating soup? Puruere. The „Father“ teaching a child? Puruere. Your Husband? Well, there it got complicated.

When she finished her soup, you lowered your head onto her lap, grabing the water with the vitamines. Arlecchino watched you, curious as you hum at the taste.

„Is it good?“

„Sweet.“

You smiled when she pulled a face, knowing that she`d still drink it. You put the cup back to the plate, deciding that this would be the place to lounge, rigth on her lap. Your scary wolf. She started to have her hand rake through your hair, over your head soon after, leaning back while in thougth. You meanwhile leaned into her touch, closing your eyes, getting the occasional snicker as she deepend her thougths. You eventually dooze of, not noticing when Arlecchino calls Jules in to ask for documents. She arranged them neatly next to her, her other hand still tied to your hair. You wake up only when a paper brushes your side and she stops. You look up, suprised, then at the papers.

„Arlecchino-“ there is a sharp edge to your voice.

„I am only reading, dear.“

You crock a brow, look at the empty nigthstand. „You drank it all up?“

She nodded, slowly, then took a tissue. You only noticed the shadow under her eyes now and you squint your eyes. „Did you sleep enough.“

She pushes some of her hair to the side. „I sadly could not make enough time, I know, it is foolish.“

A crease appears between your eyebrows as you sit up, take her head between your hands. „What is this project?“ you look towards the folder on her side, a big red CONFIDENTIAL is written on it. She puts the papers inside.

„Nothing you should be worried about yet.“ she then takes some other papers from her nigthstand. „Can you read these to me?“

„It has to do with the Gnoses rigth?“ you ask, crocking your head. „You mumbled about it while I was in your office. and just now.“

It only takes seconds for her to build her composure back up. „It is. But you will get to those meetings to once it is all confirmed, you will play as much a part of this as me.“

You hesitate before taking the papers. „Please, we are married now, stop keeping your work from me...it is like you said.“ You interupt her as she opend her mouth. „Now lie down. I will read to you and you will get enough sleep.“

She sighs, but does as you say, her head on the pillows, completly tugged in. She looked almost cute. You took the place beside her, proping her head up on your arm while simultaneously cuddling her closer. She was so close rigth now, you were actually able to count her eyelashes. You smile, looking back down at the papers and read them to her. They were about legends of the gods. It was weird, considering your wifes...believes, or lack of them therefore. But considering her new mission, it migth make sense. It did not take long until you noticed how her eyelids grew heavy, you in turn started to speak a bit more quiet while gently rubbing circles into her back untill she was asleep.

[fantasy-mixtapes]

Kristen Applebees S3 Playlist: Side A

Here's Part 1 of Kristen's Junior Year Playlist, I am obsessed with it so far and will probably continue to be. Descriptions and key lyrics below. Spoilers for Episodes 1-10

Genres include: Pop-Punk, Alternative, Punk, Folk

1. Lavender Bones, Stand Atlantic

I know I'm out of my depth, but I just float in it I try to do my best, stop picking fights with it I wanna be upset, you're not alright with it I can cover it up, I can cover it Try to speak my mind, wish it was by design But I can only confess to having doubts with it Don't wanna feel regret, I'm not alright with it I can cover it up, I can cover it

So this is a perfect background music for the start of a movie about Kristen's life right now and I LOVE finding those songs. It's perfect on so many layers, it talks about feeling trapped, wanting to fix empty habits, and not to mention how "lavender bones" really hits home to my queer little heart. This entire playlist is really a game of guessing when the "you" in songs chosen mean Tracker and when they mean Cassandra, level: impossible

2. Starchild, Sweet Pill

What do you want from me? I am not a charity Work hard at everything Do it all for free What do you want from me? I am not a guarantee Go all or nothing Lose your money ... Set up to win Wind up disappointing everyone In the end I am disappointing mostly myself In the end Hang your Head

I AM SO NOT NORMAL ABOUT THIS SONG Guys its like it was written for this very specific situation. AND THE TITLE???? FOR A CLERIC OF THE GODDESS OF MYSTERY, DOUBT, THE NIGHT, AND STARS???????

anyways just please please listen to it its so great like even without the connection to Kristen, go support Sweet Pill they have a new album being released tomorrow (March 15th)

3. Uneeda, Deady

What about the bones The bones have no problem Turn them into ash And this never happened Your ashes big asses Your brains on the pavement Oh no! I can feel myself rot Unless I take your hand

Ok so this is kind of a genre outlier on the playlist since it is very very alt punk but for me it represents the rage at the mall, Kristen's relationship to Cassandra, and both of their respective reactions to what happened. It's very chaotic, but it was a very chaotic situation and I stand by it plus I love adding modern bands to things

4. Bite the Hand, boygenius

I can't hear you You're too far away I can't see you The light is in my face I can't touch you I wouldn't if I could I can't love you how you want me to I can't love you how you want me to

Yeah, sorry had to whip out the queer break-up big guns. I don't feel sorry I feel right.

5. Untitled God Song, Haley Heynderickx

When you're drunk near a sunset, look straight in her eyes She's a quick glimpse of heaven, forgetting her headlights are on When you misread her fortune, don't misread the joke She's the note on your lampshade, the honeycomb holdin' you And she spins me around like a marionette Oh, my web is still spinnin' My web is still spinnin', you can't see it yet

Immediately going from having total contact with a divinity figure to having to grasp for straws once again to a memory you hold onto, literally holding onto the shards of your faith. Having to both embrace doubt and faith at the same time. Girlies, I'm ruined

6. C'est Comme Ça, Paramore

In a single year I've aged one hundred My social life a chiropractic appointment Sit still long enough to listen to yourself Or maybe just long enough for you to atrophy to hell ... I know that regression is rarely rewarded I still need a certain degree of disorder I hate to admit, getting better is boring But the high cost of chaos Who can afford it?

I love Kristen, and I think her arc this season is extremely relatable; currently, 90% of what she does are bits, and I KNOW it's a coping mechanism, but STILL, WHY ARE YOU SO MESSY. I love you; keep being 17, but god, keep your clothes on and stop going to the steel plants girlie you're gonna give Riz a heart attack

[blood-injections]

Saw killjoy au infodump post!! Its danger days but my special little bloody guy is there! When I eventually write it it'll be centered around Adam and it mmmight be chainshipping I'm still deciding.

So the bathroom trap. still happens. adam lives in battery city and to make ends meet he takes pictures of people for people, doesnt matter who, he doesn't ask questions. He's taken jobs from better living to follow suspected rebels and hes taken jobs from rebels to follow some high-profile better living person to get more information on them before they take them out. He stays just off the rader and keeps himself just barely useful or not suspicious enough as to not be put into scarecrow training or something. Because he doesn't like better living, but he has to make ends meet. Jigsaw picks him because he thinks hes pathetic and hates how he doesn't pick a side, his tape says how he doesn't take his pills but he cant even bother fighting for anything. he could do anything with his free will and he chooses to throw his life away and this pisses jigsaw off. so will adam watch himself die, throw his life away once and for all, or will he finally use his free will to fight for something? Because in this au jigsaws motive of teaching people to value life comes from being under better livings control instead of having cancer, because better living is a cancer, really. so yeah jigsaw and co. are technically killjoys lol.

Lawrence is still in the trap too. hes a scarecrow who has stopped taking his pills and is becoming aware of his actions for the first time ever as well as coming to to a family, to a wife he cant remember falling in love with, they were probably set up by the city. He has a family, he has a kid, but its all been fake, does he even love them? can he? and hes haunted by the blood on his hands but he wasn't into control he cant really be a murderer if he wasn't in control, right? right. jigsaw even agrees. but hes also a sick bastard with a grudge against better living so he doesn't care. maybe Lawrence wasn't a murderer, not really, but now he will be. by the end if the day there will be blood on his hands that he can no longer deny or write off as someones elses actions. because to jigsaw it doesn't matter who was in control, lawrence still pulled the trigger. No matter what lawrence does, if he kills adam or not, there will still be deaths on his conscience, because he needs to learn a lesson, how it feels, how to be scared. he kills adam and his family will be spared. Don't kill adam? its his family that will die instead. but how can he choose? two people or one. two he thinks he loves, hes supposed to, but he hardly knows them, or one person that he might be falling in love with the more that adam begs for him to stay.

in the end he doesn't have to choose(well. not completely. the shoulder bullet prob still happens lol) and they both make it out because fuck you. also just so you know, in this au jigsaw is Dr Benzedrine and the apprentices are the suitehearts and that will absolutely come into play down the line with a possible frankenghoul cameo, the franken bit the result of being a victim of a trap of his own.

anyway adam, after nearly dying, after realizing he wants to fucking live, has never had plans before but now hes like fuck it, im getting out of here, im getting out of this freaky city with creeps like jigsaw apparently running around. he isnt taking any more chances. So he gets out, he becomes a killjoy. and theres the whole trauma bonding thing so he probably takes lawrence(who is still struggling with the am i a murderer or not thing and thinks he doesn't deserve this second chance. he'll accept it eventually) with him. i dont have any of lawrence's killjoy thought out yet i'll come up with some stuff later it also probably depends on if i decide its chainshipping and if hes even out there or not like i might just fucking adam stanheight final girl it like fuck it he wasn't doomed by the narrative his hacksaw didnt break or he found another way out of his chains and the roles are reversed or maybe he even fucking killed lawrence before lawrence could kill him who knows, i dont lol. theres so many possibilities.

anyway adam stanheight killjoy. his name Hacksaw Jagger(working title) because hacksaw. you know. and jagger because a jagger is another term for a vouyer and i think thats clever. also adam could be a fan of the rolling stones and hed be like lol reference. but yeah, Hacksaw Jagger. depending on how things went in the bathroom he may or may not have a prosthetic leg. he dyes his hair at some point and to me personally. its the worst brassiest ugliest bleached tips youve ever fucking seen and probably like little liberty spikes at some point because. punk adam as well. you agree. anyway he looks pathetic and i love him. he definitely gets into racing at some point and also learns he has a thing for arson and explosives. so yknow. hacksaw+fun ghoul besties at first boom at some point. i also think it'd be fun if he joined/started a band but thats a conversation for another day maybe another au.

anyway thats it for now. also yes, i absolutely fuck with his gender. you're welcome.

[the-tulpar]

The Mind Electric (Jimmy & Curly)

CW: Schizophrenia, derealization, reality issues, probably OOC, BPD, Jimmy being Jimmy

A/N: This is written by Jimmy(Mod), I wrote this for Ao3 and its very much me projecting onto Jimmy. HOWEVER, I am not when it comes to Anya I love her so much so any comments about Anya aren't my thoughts.

Song: The Mind Electric - Miracle Music

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Of course he had to do everyone’s job for them. Fuckin hell. Everyone’s incapable of doing the jobs they were HIRED to do. Jimmy couldn’t believe their nurse couldn’t give someone medicine. What kind of nurse is that?

‘One that didn’t finish school’ Jimmy thought to himself as he made his way to medical room. It was always his job. And Captain Curly just had to leave him to solve everyone’s problems. Everyone made him do their job, even the dead ol’ Captain. Captain Curly. What a joke.

Jimmy scoffed lightly as he entered the medical room, seeing what was left of their former captain. The familiar feeling of anger bubbled in him as he made his way over to the table. Even after the crash, after all the horrific injuries, Curly is still better. For any reason, pity, genuine admiration, pure curiosity, whatever reason the crew hard curly was still favored.

‘Oh how I wish Curly could be captain again’ The voice of god knows who rang in his ears. “Shut up…” He mumbled to himself as he fumbled with the pill bottle. He was aware enough to know when it wasn’t real, at least with small things like that. He didn’t know why his state of mind was suddenly so… challenging. Maybe it was the cabin fever, though he had experiences of this before they were trapped in a wrecked ship.

Curly always helped, kept him grounded… could always bring him back from whatever world his mind got lost in. Just another way he’s so much better. Jimmy hated him, every fiber of his being, even now when he was this… pathetic pile of human meat. Can’t even talk or blink, or take his own fucking medicine.

Jimmy swore under his breath as he dropped some pills on the floor. He simply picked them up and put them back in the bottle. Pills that were on the floor for 2 seconds are the least of anyone’s worries. When he stood up, pouring the pills back into the bottle, he was startled by a sudden voice. That one was real. He was sure. But it couldn’t be…

“When did you get so clumsy, Jim?” Curly chuckled from the doorway, leaning on the frame so casually. Jimmy looked at him like he had five heads. At Curly, then at the cot, back to Curly. It was now empty. Or was it. The whole area was kind of fuzzy.

His mouth hung open for a moment as he tried to find the words. “You’re…”

“Waiting on you?” Curly chuckled and pushed off the doorframe. “Wat’cha doing in here anyway? Anya tries to keep this place neat, not messing it up for her I hope.”

Jimmy looked down at the table. Where did the pain medication go? Now he felt lightheaded. The crash, Curly’s injuries… they couldn’t possibly have all been a delusion of his. It was so long, so detailed. He braced against the table for stability.

“I just feel a little sick, uhm… I’m fine though.” He hesitantly looked back at Curly, who had moved closer to place a hand on his friend’s shoulder. He looked so fucking sincere. Jimmy had been so caught off guard, he had completely forgotten about his rage, his deep hatred for his “friend”, his captain.

Curly’s icy blue eyes searched his own, he suddenly felt like a fly under a magnifying glass. “Are you having issues again?” The words hit Jimmy like a brick. Of course perfect captain Curly could read him like a book. Every goddamn time. He always knew, somehow, always.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not. You can talk to me-“

“I’m fine!” Jimmy slammed his fist into the table. Curly didn’t flinch, not like the others would have. He panted lightly and dragged his hand down his face. His mind raced with questions, which reality was real? And why can’t he tell like he could any other time? As much as he hated it he knew what to do. “Wh… where’s Anya?” He huffed. He truly does just need a nurse right now.

Curly frowned and leaned back slightly. “In the lounge. I can get her for you, you should sit down, I’ll be quick.” He gently pushed Jimmy to sit on the desk. As Curly went to walk away, Jimmy tugged on his sleeve.

“Wait just… stay a minute I- don’t wanna be left alone.” His voice was weak. God he sounded pathetic, and he knew he’d kick himself for that later, even if this was fake. It’ll certainly be a moment he thinks about when falling asleep. How fucking pathetic he sounded begging Curly not to leave him. What a joke.

Curly had always been his rock, his grip on reality, even after the crash if he just came and spoke to Curly he would feel better. Why is everything now falling apart, why is he only now struggling. Maybe he was struggling the entire time and had no idea. That had to be it… the accident all of it was… he didn’t actually fuck up. He knew he couldn’t have. Of course he didn’t.

The captain didn’t question when Jimmy started to act even more… odd. Or perhaps it’s considered normal in this case. It seemed like Jimmy was examining him, lifting his arms and feeling at them. Curly was confused, but knew better than to question things when Jimmy got like this.

He only started to question when Jimmy’s hands went to his face, feeling around like it wasn’t such an invasion of his space. “Jim, what are you doing, exactly?”

“Just checking…” Is all Jimmy mumbled as his fingers traced over Curly’s skin. Curly reached up and took the brunette’s hands in his own.

“Listen, everything’s fine, okay? See I’m still here, and you are. Everything’s fine.” Curly smiled down at him. “Now, come on, you can’t hide in here forever. I still need my co-Pilot.”

That definitely set Jimmy straight. Any ounce of confusion left was replaced with the rage he is so familiar with. And that damn perfect smile, like nothing was wrong in the world. It drove him crazy. Curly interrupted his train of thought. “There’s another psych eval coming up. I’ll be the one to give it to you again-“

“I’m not doing that shit.” Jimmy scoffed and slid off the table.

“I think you need it Jim, you seem so out of it.”

“What part of ‘I’m fine’ do you not fucking understand?” Jimmy turned away from him, running his hand through his greasy hair. He tried to gather himself, not seem like he’s falling apart at the seams. The last thing he needs is more reasons for Curly to be better than him. With a heavy sigh, he finally turned back around, only to find the Captain gone.

He glanced around briefly, then checked out the door. It wasn’t unusual for Curly to walk away from him when he got like this, but usually Jimmy could tell. He turned back to face the room, and was met with the familiar sight of the captain on the cot, wrapping in bandages, his one eye staring at Jimmy. He felt dizzy again, leaning against the doorframe to steady himself.

After a moment of just staring at each other, Jimmy watching his one eye for any sign of emotion, he made his way over to Curly. “What the fuck are you looking at. Huh? Captain?” He looked over Curly, hair falling to frame his face and cast it in ominous shadow. “You like watching me fall apart like this huh? Makes you happy? You always liked it, that’s why you kept me around. Something you could fix? Something to make you look better?” Jimmy scoffed and grabbed the pills off the counter.

“Time for your medicine.”

[evansbby]

wg 4. Was absolutely beautiful. So many things happened at once. My heart was filled with warmth and agony. I cried for steve and i felt readers guilt and pain. I see how both genuinely loved reader and its really difficult to pick who should reader end up with. But anyways i dont care what anyone will say bur team steve till the day i die (open for debate)

both ari and steve have both pros and cons.

I could see steve really atoned for what hes done. His psychological pain, struggles and especially his parents around was clearly evident to why hes become that way. Yes, it was no excuse for forcing himself on reader but Ari is not any better. To me, steve did not care if reader picked him but he did care if she picked ari because hes aware of what ari is capable of. Steve in that moment did not saw reader as a possession, all he wanted from reader was her forgiveness and he could finally be in peace. Comfortably numb. AJDHJS i know i sound biased cause im team steve but like its probably because of i got alota say for ari. If reader chooses Steve its either gonna go well or not. It will go well, if steve learns to cope properly and control his anger during pressure and argument (which happens alot if youre a couple) so if he starts punching walls when both of them are in a disagreement thats gonna be traumatic for reader. So if hes really sorry he should seek therapy, and solely rely on alcohol and pills to keep him calm. The thought of reader should be his inspiration and motivation to be calm (if ever the end up PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPELASDE I CANT HANDLE THIS AT ALL, IT SHOULD BE HIM OR NON OF THEM.) because the fact he warned reader about ari, it is like hes doing that for her own good not for her to run toward steve instead. Do i make sense? Both of them said sorry but the way they said sorry and the intentions behind that sorry is different. Im yapping alot but i hope this makes sense. Like i hope my yappin is not spiraling everywhereJDGJSH. Also later at the end, my heart broke for steve. The way he had the courage to attempt that as if he got no one in this world for him to stay here is so sad. Hes kicked out of the team, his sister is a mess and hes left to pick up the pieces while hes got a problem of his own too. His sisters pain doubles the weight he carries on his shoulders with his own pain, his parents are too busy which leaves the two of them neglected, and now reader who he scared away. The only warmth in his dark and cold world. I just pity him so much, and i could see that he really regrets it so much that its eating him alive. Its like he felt so shitty that he thinks he has no right to even stay in this world.

for ari;

i think hes way too fast. I know you guys fell immediately after he took her to the woods. Admittedly, it is beautifully peaceful. Like theres no one other but them, that no one could ruin the bond they have. I could feel he genuinely loves reader, and he was really sorry, but that is not enough. He cant run away from the people hes hurt in the past and leave them behind while he lives the dream and future he created for reader. If he wants to live his happily ever after with reader, he has to make amends to those he have hurt. Kira, sharon, and the hundreds of girls hes played with before he met reader. This future he promised is too good to be true. Thats what he always does, promising things he cant keep. He promised that he’ll break up with sharon and how long did that take? It took for reader to lose it and break down for him to finally do. And there he goes again, he promises his success and the family they’ll make together but is it really that simple? Its so subtle, hes seeing reader as something to claim and control, like the part he said reader cant be a model. When he barged in to her room with sandwiches it was like nothing happened. When he said he did not care about sharon more than he does with reader, it just means he did not care the damaged hes cost others but he only cared about the damaged hes cost reader. Reader has been through alot and so does the people hes hurt like sharon. So before he promises the world to reader, start anew, he must address the broken glasses he left behind. Sharon and the other girl’s broken heart, and the mental damage he caused kira. The way ari said sorry, it seems like he expected for everything to fall right back into place after he did. “I told you i said sorry” just sorry? Yes he tried to win back reader with the picnic and his compliments but in order to do that he must ACTUALLY change for the better, not just for reader. He needs to explain himself to sharon, to kira. And reader must also explain herself properly to sharon without getting herself interrupted. Yes it is not an excuse but it is a REASON, for them to see a different perspective on to why it happened. Ari has built a perfect future for him and reader, without addressing the futures he ruined for others first

OH WOW BESTIE OMFG!

OKAY FIRST OF ALL, let me just say how much i appreciate this wonderful analysis you've just sent me. like seriously, it was a joy to read. to have someone be so passionate about the characters i've invented is such a surreal feeling. bc I AM ALSO this passionate about them! they are my babies fr! my fucked up babies bahahah

so with your steve analysis, firstly, this part of what you said really resonated with me: "To me, steve did not care if reader picked him but he did care if she picked ari" part of this is so true bestie, because steve REALLY REALLY did not want her to pick ari. like this man is ari's number one hater. if ari has no haters, that means steve is dead. LMFAOO. but anyways, i do disagree with the first part though bc steve definitely cared if reader picked him. because steve was RELYING on reader picking him, in his head, if she didn't pick him, if she didn't even forgive him... then he had nothing left to live for :(( one of my aims this chapter was to show a different side to steve, and show a little bit of why he is the way he is. and i think a lot of people feel sorry for him now and are rooting for him - which was my goal! bc i want the steve fanbase and ari fanbase to be equal, which i think it is now hahahah.

ALSO LMAOOO you do not like ari, do you?? Okay but when you said this part: "He cant run away from the people hes hurt in the past and leave them behind while he lives the dream and future he created for reader." YESSS YOU REALLY ATE WITH THAT! bc has ari truly changed into a better person... or is he a better person but ONLY WITH READER. bc there's a huge difference! BUT ALSOOO lemme defend Ari a little bit here... sure he barged into her room with the cheese sandwiches but steve also jumped in through reader's window and waited outside her dorm room... so like... they're BOTH giving stalker vibes i can't lie! And also, yeah Ari was acting kinda cocky but i believe his apologies were genuine. being cocky is just part of his personality hehe, he can't lose that even if he develops into a better person.

ALTHOUGH NGL GIRLIE YOU READ ARI TO FILTH ADALSGNSKL "he's always promising a future he can't keep" GIRLLLLL wg!Ari should be scared of you FR kalngalndkngf

BUT THANK YOU for this amazing incredible analysis ily ily ily

[hislittleraincloud]

... I'm so goddamn angry I could fucking

I am just so goddamn ANGRY.

But I'm usually not confrontational with this one. I probably should be, but yanno. Real life, we all gotta treat those in recovery with kid gloves because they're in recovery.

Except I know this one better than that. (Maybe it's my longtime experience with manipulators.) And I anticipated her next messages to the T, because I knew she was going to say what she said.

I can still keep working on Precious Things (the Miller's Girl fan fic)...its name could undergo a change, dunno yet, but it's coming along nicely. It's just a matter of a little bit of planning/logistics re sexytimes. The beginning and end are written! The middle is decent as well, but I've got the sex in a different file. As well as an epilogue that I dunno if I'll include yet...because it's kind of fucked up.

Anyway.

Yeah, my life. Poor me, I get to spend time with a cat. That's not the part that I...I just hate this crap of never knowing when she's ever going to message me/tell me shit. I hate it. I just wanna be left alone. But I don't want my bud upstairs to be left alone either. He's still the cat I raised from a kitten...and I feel so terrible that his mother is the biggest flake in the world who said she was going to message me YESTERDAY MORNING about what was going on and never did.

If my apartment was decent, I would just take the cat permanently. But it's not, and I already have the numeric limit for the city (we're only legally allowed up to three pets like this).

I've been cursing ever since I got her next messages, which I had predicted she was going to say. Not ready to come home...not ready to deal with the things in her apartment. Which is...fine, but there comes a time in someone's life where they have to face that music of being alone (either physically or psychically) and just being there for the little ones (fur or otherwise) that need us, too.

I took this last night when I was telling him that I wasn't sure when or if I'd see him again (I suspect that his mom might want to move out of here, but that's not feasible for her...her rent for that place is controlled and about half the going rate for this area...~$1400 monthly or so is cheap, since the rate is around $2K monthly and she made some implications that moving out is an option she's considering, but that she doesn't want to move out of the city 🤦🏽‍♂️). He's a handsome boy, and has been cuddling with me more often lately (he was never a cuddler before). And he needs me to be the adult here, since some addicts are incapable of growing up.

That may sound harsh, cold, perhaps ignorant. But as someone who has been literally tortured throughout my life by shitty people and shitty circumstance, I've rarely felt the need to drown or drug my sorrows away. And when I have, I've never felt out so out of control of my actions that I was compelled to reach into my pocket for money I don't have to purchase shit to poison myself to escape reality. It's just foreign to my brain, but yes, I understand that brains are very, very different, especially the brains of the worst addicts. Childhood trauma really fucks some people up, it sucks, and it has a lasting effect. Consistent traumas on top of that...smh. It's just so fucking sad that a 50-something year old's brain has been reduced to the existential panic of child-like helplessness.

Afterburn is suffering for it, and that's what I despise the most. I have big plans, my biggest fans have been given previews of it (some may even know what happens between Wenovan in the next installment post-canon). Yeah, that sounds selfish. I don't care. I started writing again because I don't have anything left but my creativity, and I've only last year got it back after it was beaten into the neurological mist by some fucking asshole who thought I was gay by the way I was dressed.

I think I'll take one of those shitty, sub par ecstasy pills (that Rehab Mom gave me) before I go up there tonight. Not to escape, but fuck, why not. All of this is giving me ideas for another fan fic for a totally different show, so maybe that's my thin silver lining?

ETA: It's very possible (after she finally messaged me back) that she'll be there through the end of the month.

🫥

Just kill me already.

[adamwatchesmovies]

Playing for Keeps (2012)

While I didn't enjoy this film, that doesn't mean you won't. No matter what I say, the people involved in this project did it: they actually made a movie. That's something to be applauded. With that established...

Playing for Keeps is a nothing of a movie. Its parts are so mismatched that any of them feel like they should be cut to make the picture better but if you went ahead with that advice, there wouldn’t be anything left. It’s not even fascinating bad, or infuriatingly bad, it’s just a waste of time. Even the people in charge seemed to know this, as the DVD for this $55 million dollar romantic comedy has no special features whatsoever, not even a trailer!

Former professional soccer player George Dryer (Gerard Butler) has moved to the United States to rekindle a relationship with his son, Lewis (Noah Lomax). When he begins teaching Lewis’ soccer team, the two have something to bond over, but the numerous single moms attending the games and practices also want George's attention…

Essentially, this is a romantic redemption story. George blew it years ago with Lewis’ mom, Stacie (Jessica Biel). He’s just learned she is engaged to Matt (James Tupper, so not in this movie he hardly feels worth mentioning). George wants to make ammends but things just keep coming up and he winds up disappointing his family over and over. It’s also a wacky romantic comedy centering around this handsome man who's biggest problem is that women just won’t leave him alone. Divorcee Barb (Judy Greer), ex-sportscaster Denise (Catherine Zeta-Jones), and married-but-looking-to-have-an-affair Patti (Uma Thurman) all want to jump on George's bones as often as possible. The women's unshackled libido leads to “hilarious” scenarios where Patti sneaks into what she thinks is George's bedroom (actually, it’s his landlord’s). Later, our protagonist can’t get through a soccer game without getting a call from Barb, who will burst into tears unless he gives her attention. The only real prospect is Denise, but the film subliminally tells you she’s not good for George.

What do I mean by that? Let’s begin by making one thing even clearer: this is not a good movie. It’s so poorly written and so thin you could predict just about every beat, even after downing a dangerous cocktail of sleeping pills and alcohol. The film's agenda is plainly clear: it wants you to want George and Stacie to get back together. Normally, a bad rom-com would do this by making her fiancé a jerk. It’s a cheap tactic that undermines the romantic lady’s intelligence but we’ve seen it done a thousand times. Instead, this film makes you understand the upcoming nuptials should take place because… nothing. Matt has a bad haircut and likes to wear sweaters. That’s all we know about him. I don’t think he and Lewis exchange more than six words in total so the boy won’t be heartbroken after he and his mom split up. After all, she can’t REALLY love Matt. Not when her son’s father says he wants to get back together. I mean yeah she’s getting fitted for a wedding dress but you know how women are; unless they’ve been married for years and are blissfully happy, they’re still fair game ;) That seems to be this story's thesis, anyway. I’d love to see the mirror universe version of this movie, where we focus on Matt, who is this great guy that does everything right but sees his future bride whisked away by her deadbeat ex that screws a different, insane woman every night, shows up late for EVERYTHING, can’t pay his rent, doesn’t even have a job and can’t even ride on the coattails of his past fame because he’s a European soccer player in the U.S.

I don’t actually think this film has any kind of twisted beliefs about what families should be like but I am going to point out that the woman George has the most in common with, the one he should get romantically involved with is discarded because she does things the movie wants you to believe are wrong. I’m probably looking too much into it but you don’t have to find any weird angle to see this film as mysoginist, or just plain stupid.

We haven’t even gotten to the other sub plot involving Carl King (Dennis Quaid), Patti's pompous, unfaithful husband. He bribes George with a fat stack of bills to ensure his daughter will sing the national anthem at the beginning of each match while his son always serves as the team goalie. You think the bribe thing is going to lead somewhere. It doesn’t.

Playing for Keeps knows what it wants to be - sorta - it’s just hobbled by all of these extraneous elements that someone was too infatuated with to cut. It's the worst kind of mess - a forgettable one. (On DVD, September 9, 2021)

[wclfwiife]

Rehab sucks - pt 1

“Up and at ‘em, girl.” the voice, much too loud for this ungodly hour, rang out through the dark hospital like room. It cut through the white noise from the walls like a knife slicing through her skull as she slowly tripped back into consciousness. 

“Ugh,” she groaned, her hands shooting up to cover her eyes as the staff member pulled her curtains open. “Leave it.” Ash hissed, the photosensitivity part of her detox kicked in hard and already having not been a huge fan of immediately being sucker punched by the sun anyway, the head-achey woman was irked by this to say the least. “I prefer the dark.” 

The staff member denied her request for darkness, walking towards her with a tray holding the familiar little plastic cup of pills sat beside a plate of plain toast, dry scrambled eggs, and 2 bigger plastic cups, one half filled with apple juice and one with water. She’d have rolled her eyes if her head didn’t hurt so much. It seemed counterintuitive really, giving the drug addict more drugs to detox off the original drugs. Only in America, probably. Seemed like a very America thing to instill. They claim its for comfort during the detoxification process but to her, it seemed like just another insurance scam because they sure as fuck weren’t helping her feel better the past few days. The nausea wasn’t better, the headaches weren’t duller, her fluctuating temperature and chills did not get less painful so in her humble opinion, the doctors here long with their oh-so-caring staff could take these pills and suppository them right up their--- 

“Morning medicine time, c’mon. I cant leave till you shove these down your throat or I do.” His voice once again sliced into he skull right through her last thought, resulting in an extremely pointed glare from the young woman. “Be my guest. Your throat seems to need them more than mine does.” She shot back, well aware that his threat was aimed at her but it wasn’t in her to let anyone who thought hair gel was meant to be seen as a top layer boss her around. 

He shoved the pills closer to her rather violently, as if to strengthen the threat. “You wanna go to jail? We all know you’re in here to keep outta the big house, girl, so do yourself the favor and just take the damn meds.” 

“If I want to detox dry, I can.” She pushed the cup back in his direction before crossing her arms. “They said I gotta detox, they didn’t say I have to take any of your bullshit. Or your pills.” 

The man she came to know as Ted, although endearingly preferred to call him dick head (it did rhyme after all, just a moniker to help remember his name, really), was clearly getting impatient at this point. He pulled a syringe from his pocket and grabbed her arm roughly. “Hey!” she yelled, yanking her arm as hard as she could to release his grasp but he only tightened it. “Let go of me! What the fuck!? Let me go, you big fucking oaf, get the fuck off o’ me!” She kept writhing and tugging her limb in hopes to get free but the more she struggled the harder he gripped around her upper arm. He said something about making him strap her down and something else about it hurting more if she struggled but he didn’t say what was inside the syringe in his opposite hand. She kept making a scene hoping to catch the attention of someone outside the door and to her relief, the doorknob lowered and another staff member, Pete, rushed in. “Oh my God, please, help me, he’s fuckin’ crazy, please, get this asshole off me, he’s n---” The relief however, was short lived when Pete asked what was happening and instead of helping Ash, he too came to hold her down. “What the fuck are you doing?” She screamed at Pete, now strapping her other arm down at her bedside and moving to strap her legs down. Ash wasn’t a weak girl by any means, but these two grown men tag teaming her while she was in a weakened state was clearly an unfair fight. 

“What are you waiting for?” Pete spat to Ted in a hushed, urgent sounding tone.  Ted grimaced as he strapped her left arm down, tighter than the other restraints were drawn, and pointed to her pill cup with the needle. “She wouldn’t take her damn meds. She’s supposed to take the meds first.” “Well make her take them then. What, ya got a crush on this one? Going soft on us?” Ted snorted, pulling the strap harder, tightening the already too tight restraint on her left wrist and she winced as her skin pinched as it twisted and her bones felt like they were in a vice.

“I’m not gettin’ into shit from Doctor Douchebag because the ratios are wrong and the whole thing gets fucked. The meds are supposed to be first.” He stressed again, pointing to the untaken pills on the tray once more. “Jesus Christ,” Pete shook his head, frustrated and moved back up towards her face and picked up the small cup with almost too much of that frustration as they almost flew out of it and onto the bed and floor.  “Nice job, dumbass.”  “Shut the fuck up!” Pete, who usually had a calmer demeanor than Ted, which she now realized was obviously an act or he truly had the shortest fuse known to man, repositioned himself so he could grab her jaw and keep it in place as she turned her head violently away from him until he grabbed a fistful of her hair at the base of her neck and wrenched backwards. She hissed at the pain, trying to keep her mouth shut as the plastic cup was being shoved at her lips. Pete kept pushing the cup at her mouth, muttering angry words until Ted grabbed her face, pushing his thumb and index fingers into opposite cheeks, prying her teeth open from the outside like trying to give an animal a pill who wouldn’t unclench its jaw. He finally got her mouth open just enough for Pete to throw the pills in. 

Three differently shaped pills of varying sizes spilled across her tongue, playing a disgusting tasting game of tag as she tried to spit them out or at least hide them in her cheeks or under her tongue until Pete, the stupid jerk, also poured the water into her mouth, giving her no choice but to swallow or essentially choke to death on both as her head was still pulled backwards leaving the pills and liquid nowhere to go but down. She coughed violently as it all made its way roughly down her throat, it felt like all three pills rolled oddly down her trachea threatening to get stuck at the odd angle she was being held in. When Pete finally let go, she threw herself forward, still strapped to her bed, gasping for breath and choking on the awkward liquid, air, and pills. She wanted so badly to throw up or rub her throat at least, or even just her scalp where his fingers clutched her hair so tightly she was sure he took a few strands with him. 

“You’re both sick bastards,” she muttered through heavy breaths, still fighting against the restraints as best she could but her headache had easily turned into a full blown migraine at this point and the movement was agonizing. Ted took this moment to stab her bicep with the mystery needle and almost immediately the room was no longer still and the two men, who she could realistically presume were not swaying at the foot of her bed, were definitely swaying as he head and eyelids became heavier and heavier until the moving wavy room just turned black. The two staff members waited until they were sure she was out, although didn’t bother undoing her restraints as Ted shoved the used syringe back into his pocket and the men took their leave, quietly bickering on their way out.

@staysaliive​

[pinnithin-writes]

May 27

I should probably talk about why I sought out a tapeworm.

I’m not an idiot. I did my research and I know the health risks. But the thing is, only a few people have ever actually died from this diet. Near death experiences are more common, sure, but that’s sort of the whole point of dieting. You’re stress-testing your body against the functions it evolved to keep you from starving. Deprive it of food and it goes into survival mode.

You’re trying to kill yourself. That’s the whole point. It works out pretty well for me, because even though I’m not suicidal anymore, the thought of brushing against death every once in a while is kind of thrilling. It started with intermittent fasting, which worked back in high school, and I just kind of pushed it from there to see how far I could go. And honestly, only one of those diets put me in the hospital (check your dosage if you’re taking sedatives to avoid eating, kids) so it’s sort of turned into this twofold risk - how dangerous can I get, and how long can I get away with it before my parents notice. The tapeworm is obviously the next step on the echelon.

It’s gotten easier to fly under the radar since I moved to Berkeley. I can do what I want here without worrying about Mom pathologizing everything I do, or Dad noticing I’m avoiding food I usually enjoy. Their attention is mostly on Audrey now, anyway - she’s worse than me. She’s out at UCLA developing an alcohol addiction and putting herself in dangerous situations that are way more visible than mine.

When I was still at home and she was a freshman in college, I once made a joke that Mom and Dad should start taking bets on whether she calls from Planned Parenthood or jail next. Mom glared at me, but she didn’t correct me, either. 

Anyway, I know better than to draw that kind of attention to myself. My older sister is the daredevil, so I’ve had to find more subtle ways to get my kicks, because god forbid we have two problem children in the family. 

Sometimes I wonder if I’d have more friends if I did what Audrey did. People would probably think I was more exciting, at least. But I don’t dress or talk loud, I don’t take social risks, and I don’t leave my room unless something makes me. I don’t seek out other people’s company for sex or friendship. I just wait around until the perversely curious gravitate in my direction, and then are so caught up in their morbid fascination with me they can’t look away. Or they get nauseous and leave, which is much more common. 

And it’s not like I can go around bragging about the fact that I wound up in the hospital once because I overdosed on sleeping pills. People don’t want to hear about that, they want to hear about the time you blacked out and woke up in your driveway wearing someone else’s clothes. Socially acceptable self destruction. There’s a certain glamor to it.

The tapeworm situation is a little different, because now I have a witness to my misdeeds. Well, that’s not quite accurate. An accomplice. Every time I feel it move, I’m reminded that I’m not alone in this risk I’ve taken, and instead of expressing a loved one’s concern I so often cringe away from, it relishes in the risk every time I share food with it. Sometimes I can feel its glee as if it’s my own, seeking that thrill like a sugar rush. 

A Helminthic Romance

Short story about a girl who falls in love with her intestinal parasite, told through entries in the narrator's journal.

[Posting these in short installments in conjunction with the the dates of the journal entries.]

Read on Ao3

May 13

I felt it move inside me this morning.

I was warned of the symptoms. That is, I warned myself with some conscientious online research. Some discomfort is to be expected. Abdominal pain, nausea, vomiting, dizziness, insomnia, malnutrition - I know what I’m getting into. I took the pill in March and anticipated I’d start feeling the effects by now, but I hadn’t expected to feel it move.

I was standing at the coffee pot, measuring grounds into the filter. I only drink it black now, which kind of sucks, but there are fewer steps to making it at least. But I wasn’t doing anything especially exciting, and it chose that moment to stir in my gut.

I’m not sure how to describe it. It lurched, but it’s not big enough to lurch. It squirmed, but it’s not yet long enough to squirm. It just… moved. Like how a human infant will turn its head and stare at movement that fascinates it, uncomprehending but its attention held. That’s what it felt like. I’d done something to catch the worm’s attention, and it raised its head, as much as it was able to, somewhere unseen in my digestive tract. Just a small movement, observing but uncomprehending. 

Much like you can’t give caffeine to a baby, I wondered if I could, in good conscience, give caffeine to a newly born tapeworm. What would that do to it? I don’t want to do anything to hurt it - not this early in its development. I mean, I took it for a reason, and if I killed it before it did its job, or damaged its ability to do its job, then that would kind of defeat the whole point of this experiment.

I got the pill online. It was surprisingly cheap - only 35 dollars. The seller informed me that the egg would hatch inside me and it would take a few months for the tapeworm to reach maturity. As it grew, it would eat everything I ate, growing in size until it was no longer sustainable for it to live inside me. The pill came in a set of two - one to birth the worm and the other to kill it. I’m supposed to take the second pill once I’ve either reached an acceptable weight or the tapeworm becomes too uncomfortable to live with, whichever comes first. 

I’ve thought about naming it, now that I can feel it, but I think that’ll only make it harder to kill once I’ve reached my weight goal. I ended up drinking the coffee. People put coffee grounds in their compost bins and it doesn’t kill their worms, so this shouldn’t be any different.

But I mostly just wanted to stop drinking it black. I took some of Gina’s french vanilla creamer. Who knows, maybe the worm will like it. I know I did.

[swtki]

Surprise Pregnancy - Marvel

Summary: Head cannons for how the MCU boys would react to an unplanned pregnancy.

Warnings: mentions of sex, mostly fluff, all characters are pro choice, swearing, slight angst, mentions of cigarettes, mention of breeding kink.

A/N: this is gonna be like the one I did for the HP boys.

Steve Rogers

Okay lets be honest I think that man wears a condom AND pulls out bc he will take NO RISKS.

Until after you’re married, of course.

Then its a sometimes condom sometimes morning after pill type beat.

Its not that he doesn’t want a kid, he just wants to wait until someone isn’t trying to kill him every day.

Steve, who usually has pink cheeks and relaxed eyes, went cold and clammy when you mentioned a late period.

Home tests weren’t really around for him, so he’s used to hearing about cycles and the science of that.

Man gets out a full calendar to get to the bottom of this.

“Okay so if you got your last one here, and then the next one here, your cycle will last about 29 days. Meaning you should have gotten it here but its now two weeks past that point-“

He probably has one of the girls take you to the doctor to get a test.

But he is happy asf when he gets your call.

honestly Steve is from a generation where they gave a kid a Marlboro and called it childcare.

Within 9 months he has tried to give you: Coffee, deli meat, the cheese you can’t eat, sushi, any type of soda to ever walk this fucking planet (plus Thor trying to give you soda from those bougie planets) 

He will not buy a book. Don’t even try to ask him.

Although the apartment is small, its much better than the tower.

Steve is waiting outside during delivery. Support from the hall!

He want’s to name your kid after his dead relative with an old persons name 💀

“We are not naming our child Edna.”

“Is Ashley much better??”

The way this man is so incapable of holding a child in a way that doesn’t make you feel like he’s gonna drop it.

Lowkey afraid of babies tbh

Parenting styles clash of course.

“No I didn’t plug the ‘ wall socket protectors ‘ in. Back in my day-“

Bucky prob the Godfather.

Overall: Fun dad.

Bucky Barnes

He has a breeding kink but like….forgets that breeding produces a human.

Tbh I don’t think Bucky wants kids

Like they aren’t in the plan.

He wants to be the cool uncle.

Also his kids would physically be older than him at some point and thats kinda weird.

Anyways, he’s pretty shocked when you pop up with not one, but four positive tests.

man literally got up and went to another room, he couldn’t deal

ceo of needing to sleep on it

ceo of leaving his gf alone

He comes back all business

“Do you…y’know…want a….y’know?”

Man would pull it out himself if you asked him to I know that bionic arm could come in handy 👀

after many many many hours of talking, you decide the study should be the new nursery.

Oh boy is redecoration a fun time

“I love you, Bucky, but we cannot have world war II memorabilia in our baby’s nursery.”

not too happy about hanging it up in the living room bc he kinda wants to keep his age private yet he will not say “these were my great grandfathers”

Probably carried around a sack of flour so he could learn how to hold a baby

RIP the first two sacks, they were dropped.

refuses to go to classes

will let you hold his metal arm in delivery tho

Steve’s the Godfather ofc

Bucky kind of treats the baby like another adult but…weaker.

He’s so weird around the baby

He adores it tho

Like falls asleep with them on his chest

slightly scary though because he can toss and turn so its good until panic sets in.

over all: fun but chaotic dad.



Loki Laufeyson

Honestly I can’t imagine Loki stays in the courting stage very long.

He’s probably married you, bedded you, and moved you in all within seven months.

And three months after that you’re pregnant with his (first) child.

He of course has wanted this practically since day 1

So when you show him the test sticks he was like 😃 what

then you had to explain what a midguardian pregnancy test was

he was ecstatic lol

Nursery done in a day

Theres gold.

Like

decorative gold

in a babies room.

He extra like that ig

He refuses to let you do anything. Need to stand up? He’s helping you do so.

Need water? conjured that bitch

the way he will not hesitate

He was in the room during delivery, his hand being crushed by yours

Agreeing on a modern name, still with roots to Nordic culture.

Loki wants more almost immediately

He keeps an eye on his baby all the time

and lets you sleep while he casts himself in the nursery to take care of the crying child.

He’s scared for Thor.

Like he knows Thor and your kid might get into some bullshit and he doesn’t want that.

uncle tingz

overall: Protective af

Thor Oddinson

Oh this is a wild ride, strap in.

Bro I know I said Bucky had a breeding kink but didn’t actually want a kid then?

Ok well Thor has a breeding kink and he means it.

You’re both prepared for a kid, so if it happens so be it.

He literally opened a window and screamed “A NEW HEIR IS FORMING!” when he found out.

Weirdo.

Still you weren’t exactly sure the two of you should be parents.

For one, the dining room was covered in smashed mugs.

But he loved you and you loved him, so you decided to keep it.

Complete opposite of Loki

Even when you’re struggling to get out of bed bc you’re so big hes like 👁👁 what

Anyways, he does help when he can.

He wants the kid to be a kid, like a normal non-king kid.

So the nursery is pretty modest.

Many earth tones, a lot of traditional norse decor.

He named the baby after his Mother, Frigga

The kingdom was so happy at the new addition to the royal home.

He prob started teaching her to fight as soon as she could walk.

He’s a very protective father

Loki and Frigga prank the hell out of him, teaching her magic and spells.

Overall: Proud parent

Peter Parker

Out of all of them this was probably the most unplanned.

You two are only starting your first year of university, still living in separate dorms.

Your period is like three weeks late.

You’re hoping its just stress.

Then the nausea kicks in.

So you do what any person in denial would do, you go to the campus clinic for an antibiotic or antiviral.

“Are you aware you’re with child?” bruh moment

Not sure what to do, you avoid your boyfriend for a whole week.

He corners you like “🥺 what happen”

so you break down and start rambling

“IwenttotheclinicandtheytoldmeI’mpregnantand nowIhavetodecideifIwanttokeepitornotandifyouleaveIdon’tknowwhatI’lldo.”

hes just like 😅 oh god

Hes supportive, even saying he’ll go to the ab*rtion clinic with you if that’s what you choose.

He doesn’t want anything to hurt you, so he takes over your course work for the time being.

Over the next two weeks you reach a conclusion; You’d like to keep it.

Peter is supportive of course, he always wanted to be a dad some day.

May is kinda disappointed ngl

But she is also supportive, even agreeing to lend a hand so you two can stay in school.

Luckily, you live in a time where parenting and school are able to be done at the same time.

You urge Peter to stay in normal classes so he can stay on track for his masters

You switch to an online program, spending more time at home.

Btw you moved into May’s for a bit

Because although she’d never been pregnant herself, she could take care of you.

Peter really did come over every weekend.

sort of off topic but if the spider bite changed his DNA, would his kid have powers?

Anyways, he was there during delivery and he fell in love with your kid as soon as they were born.

He decided to transfer to NYU so he could stay close

Shitty apartment down the hall from May = new home

overall: king shit

like my work? Reblog so others can see it!!

taglist:

@dreamy-clousds @mssbridgerton @katiekatbooks

[ks-dreams-fantasies]

Hii can i request a Vinnie x reader where the reader live at the hype house and shes a big tiktoker too and the reader is just soft and she spend alot time at Vinnie's room bc they're secretly dating but no one knew abt it just they're family and thomas and alex and the others kinda knew abt it bc the reader and Vinnie is kinda spending time together a lot and one day Vinnie got a cold and that same day thomas is filming a video and the reader is cutting apples(or any fruit ) for Vinnie and thomas started filming her and ask her if thats for vinnie the fruits that the reader are cutting bc they knew vinnie is sick and the reader said "no, its for me" why a little laugh at the end and she didn't know that thomas is filming her going to vinnie's room and suddenly thoms burst in to Vinnie's room and filming them and see the reader is taking care of Vinnie...you can do whatever you want at the endd just vinnie soft and cuddly thank youuu! <333

Taking care of our boy? - Vinnie Hacker

Hey love 😘 Thank you so much for your request, I hope my story did it justice … I made a few changes, but the idea is still there 🙄 I feel like Vinnie would be such a baby when he’s sick 😆 Enjoy

Warning : None

Word Count : 1.2

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Vinnie hated being sick. He had been feeling off the past couple of days and when he woke up congested, his throat burning, he groaned, rolling onto his side seeing you laying peacefully next to him. You had fallen asleep the night before, after going to Vinnie’s room to watch anime with him. You, being a newly big TikToker, had moved into the Hype House a few months ago, hitting it off quickly with him. You always got teased for it, often getting shipped online with the fact that you guys seemed to be close to each other. People weren’t totally wrong since you and Vinnie had decided to start dating a few weeks ago, hiding it to the public due to the fact that it was still new and scared of the hate you would get if his fans found out.

Not a lot of people knew about your relationship, just your closest friends and of course the other members of the Hype House. Living with them, didn’t make it easy to keep you both a secret, but they respected your decision. You had thought about coming out since people kind of assumed you were together after seeing how close you both were in Thomas and Alex’s vlogs. The responses to their videos were mostly sweet and encouraging, so you often thought about it. You had both posted a few TikToks with each other over the past couple of months and you were seen leaving places together lately, hinting to the public that something was happening between you and Vinnie

He tried getting back to sleep, closing his eyes, coughing a few times before feeling you move beside him. You got closer to him wrapping one of your arms around his torso, opening your eyes as you felt the temperature of his body.

“Baby, you’re boiling hot” you gasped, lifting your upper body to look at him, putting your hand on his forehead. He groaned again before coughing making you sight

“I’ll run you a bath so you can relax, and I’ll go to the store to buy some medicine, okay baby?” you said getting up grabbing a hoodie out of Vinnie’s closet

“You don’t have to do that, I’ll be fin-“ he got interrupted by a fit of coughs

“Sure” you chuckled lightly “Wait here, the bath should be done in a few minutes” you said, disappearing into the bathroom connected to his room, turning on the faucet for the water to start running. You took a towel putting it near the bathtub, calling him in when it got filled up

“Ok, so I’ll run to the store really quick, I’ll be back in a few, try to relax” You said leaving a kiss on his temple, before leaving his room, going downstairs towards your car.

You got back home about 30 minutes later with a bag filled with medicine for Vinnie when you phone dinged indicating a new notification. You opened your phone, seeing that Vinnie had just posted a new Tiktok. You shook your head, laughing slightly, even when sick, he always found a way to make something for his fans. The video consisted of him getting his head out of the water, his hair now being wet. Vinnie being Vinnie, didn’t write much for the caption

Sick 🤧

The comments were already flooded with a bunch of messages from girls saying how much they would kill to come take care of him and how good looking he was. You put your phone in your back pocket as you entered the house, making your way to the kitchen seeing the others sitting at the counter, sipping on their coffee, laughing at something Michael had said.

“Look who decided to join us earlier than usual” Alex said pointing his camera towards you, as showed him your middle finger, sticking out your tongue

“Ouhhh grumpy, she probably didn’t have her coffee yet guys, excuse her” he said laughing, turning the camera back towards Calvin, who was trying to do god knows what. You went to the fridge, taking out some fruits to cut while you put the teakettle on the stove, waiting for the water to boil. You prepared everything while listening to their stories and laughing at them. You took out a tray, placing a plate of freshly cut berries with two mugs and some pills on the side to bring up to Vinnie.

“Two mugs? Perhaps the tea is for Vinnie? Taking care of our boy while he’s sick, I see” Alex stated, grinning softly as he turned the camera back towards you

“Vinnie’s sick? I didn’t know” you said shrugging your shoulders “I’m just really thirsty, that’s all” you continued as you picked up the tray, the others humming, knowing well enough you were lying.

“Anyways, see you later, I have some things to take care of” you said already halfway out of the kitchen making your way up the stairs

“I bet you guys a hundred bucks that the things she needs to take care of is Vinnie” Michael said, laughing as he shook his head.

Arriving to Vinnie’s bedroom you knock on the door hearing a faint “come in” before opening the door, seeing your boyfriend lying in bed, watching anime.

“Hey baby, I brought you berries and tea” you said walking up to him while he moved to sat down “Here take these” you handed him the medicine and his cup of tea while you move to sit beside him with the plate and your own cup of coffee.

“Thank you” he sipped on his tea, the hot liquid soothing the tickled in the back of his throat. You had both finished eating and drinking, putting the plates and mugs away on the nightstand when Vinnie started coughing again

“Poor baby” you said stroking his warm cheeks “Is there anything else I can do to make you feel better?” you asked him, worried

“Can we just stay here and cuddle?” he said looking into your eyes, pouting as you smiled at him

“Of course, Vin” you answered as he laid his head on your chest, your hands massaging his scalp slowing, making him let out a small groan of appreciation, enjoying the comfort. A few moments later, the sound of light snoring made you smile softly, indicating Vinnie had fallen back asleep. You knew he didn’t sleep much the night before, so you were happy that he could relax for a bit. You could hear some shuffling in the hallway and soon enough the door opened, Alex and Michael entering the room, fake gasping at the sight before their eyes.

“Well, well, well what do we have here?” Alex said, capturing every moment on his camera

“Shhh! Can’t you see he’s sleeping” you whispered-yelled trying to shush them up, wavering your hands for them to go away

“I guess I was right hun?” Michael said to the camera, a wide grin on his face.

“Mhhhhh” Vinnie groaned, squeezing your body tighter “Baby, tell them to go away” he mumbled groggily, still sleepy.

“AH I TOLD YOU SO! You guys owe me 100 bucks” Michael shouted as he pointed the lenses with his index finger, before Vinnie threw a pillow at him, exhausted

“I swear if you guys don’t get out –“ he got interrupted by the two guys laughing and exiting the room, closing the door behind him. You laughed lightly as he laid back down on your chest

“They are so annoying” he sighed “Thanks for taking care of me baby”

“Anytime Vin” you responded, smiling, leaving a kiss on his forehead.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thanks for reading

Hope you liked it, let me know what you think

-K

[hanibalistic]

#5B52AD | NA JAEMIN. NCT DREAM.

genre | fluff, friendship

word count | 2835

warning | a fever, mention of pain

note | i got kind of sick after my first dose of vaccine and i think about is my mother used to sit and rub my tummy whenever i get tummy ache even when it’s 3am.

your body felt heavy, you could not walk without an awkward arch of your back and at an annoyingly slow pace. you haven't gotten a migraine in so long that the gentle ringing in the back of your head now felt like a gradual decomposing of your brain. your tummy gurgled obnoxiously from time to time, confusing your body and mind with hunger and pain.

long story short, you were sick. you got sick, unfortunately, after a streak of good health for the past years, and you barely knew how to take care of yourself now because of how unusual the occurrence was.

you suspected it was the pouring rain you walked under the other day, or the multiple cold nights you've stood through in the unorganized tent area backstage during award shows this past few weeks. either way, since there weren't any other possible reasons, bad weather was the only thing you could blame your sickness on.

you had contacted the team manager about taking a few days off, leisurely estimating your return date while the manager told you to take your time and make sure to only work once you have fully recovered to avoid spreading your sudden fever to the dreamies when you get back. another thing you also asked of, with more grit and firmness this time, was to make sure the manager leak not a single word of you being sick to the boys.

it was true that you have not been sick in a long while, but so far you have gotten a grip on how it works and adapted to being uncomfortable and alone. reminding yourself to take those over-the-counter medicines was annoying but doable. moving around the apartment so you could cook and clean was exhausting but also doable. you did not need an extra pair of hands; it would definitely be good to have one, but you could survive without one.

you knew very well if the boys knew that you caught a fever, they would insist on visiting and taking care of you.

they would probably try to pull up to your apartment with some homemade soup and old movie discs, rambling on and on about sneaking out and forcing the driver to come to your apartment estate, complaining about you keeping everything a secret from your friends. then they'd get unreasonably mad at you for not visiting a doctor, and they'd force you to stay in bed while promising to take care of everything. they would be loud, and destructive, and annoying and—ugh! everything you do not need when you have a fever burning on your head!

"oh, finally!" you groaned in tired delight when you heard the doorbell ring. you have been waiting on the jajangmyeon takeout you ordered about fifteen damn minutes ago (to be fair, it felt like two hours with that migraine in your head).

shaking the shiver off your back when you stood on the cold wooden tiles with your bare feet, you grimaced at the pair of fuzzy socks you previously pulled off out of spontaneity, not wanting to bend down to get them from the ground. you stepped on then as you moved begrudgingly from the messy couch, where your blanket and tons of pillows resided, to the front door.

you unlocked your door with some trouble, finding it hard to stand on your legs and twist the lock. when you slowly swung open the door, you muttered, "sorry for the delay, it's kind of hard to–huh."

you cut yourself off when you saw the sight of renjun handing cash to your delivery man and patting him on the back as he bowed and left your house with your jajangmyeon. your eyes pulled back to look at the bigger picture—four people present before your apartment door, all wearing the same reaction to your figure uncared for.

renjun has turned his attention back from your delivery man and his grimace deepened when he saw your red face. donghyuck pulled a face at you when he saw your terrible posture and dead expression, and he tightened his grip on the small bag in his hand. jeno was frowning in disapproval with one brow raised as if you were spreading the bacteria to him but he was too polite to cover himself up. jaemin looked like he didn't want to be here, like always, but for a moment you saw his eyes flicker with soft concern over your visibly sick posture.

you sneered. that bastard! the manager snitched on you and here came the power rangers of the 2000s judging you at your front door! you would not take this absurdity!

"goodbye," you muttered blandly before you went ahead to close the door on their faces, but a hand swiftly reached out and blocked the door frame from meeting its end.

jeno smiled casually at you from the side, his arm muscle flexing as he, with no effort against your sickened strength, pushed the door open. you attempted to struggle against him, but obviously you were of no match for him, riddled with a fever or not.

"lee jeno," you warned.

"[full name]," he returned.

you clicked your tongue. you were too dizzy to get angry, but the rumbling inside your chest sounded anyway so you wouldn't be so overwhelmed by the boys' relentless care that you forget you didn't like this nor want this, that this wasn't ideal for you.

"please leave," you asked. "i don't need help."

"no. we're coming in whether you like it or not, [name], so give it up," donghyuck mentioned as he gently brushed past you into the apartment. "and before you ask–no, we are not leaving. we got our phones, and we brought movies. we also have to take care of you, so we got plenty to do here. we won't get bored."

you rolled your eyes as the rest of the boys followed behind. kicking their shoes off and placing them neatly to the side, they slowly began acting as if they were back in their humble abode.

donghyuck headed over to the coffee table before your couch. he grimaced at the sight of falling blankets and unorganized pillows as he placed the bag on the surface, then he turned to renjun, "renjun, where do we put the soup?"

"not on the coffee table, take it to the kitchen!" renjun exclaimed as he pointed aimlessly at a spot.

donghyuck listened. as he made his way to your open kitchen, he began rambling off. "you know, i can't believe you didn't tell us you were sick. i knew something was up when you were absent for more than a day!"

renjun nodded in agreement as he crossed his arms, looking to you with a semi-displeased expression. "he is right. we are all friends here, you should tell us if you need some help."

just having them around your apartment was enough to make you want to jump out the window. it was nothing personal against the boys, though. you would have felt the same with just about anybody who dared enter your territory when you felt uncomfortable. but the way they never stop talking—ugh, it made you want to end it altogether so you didn't have to listen to their voices overlap each other in such annoying frequency.

"if i needed help, i would have asked," you dragged out through gritted teeth.

donghyuck snickered from the sink, rolling his sleeves up and getting ready to do the unclean dishes. "oh yeah, that's why you have no clean bowl and spoon to use!"

"also, why are all your stuff here on the couch, [name]?" jeno complained as he picked up your heavy blankets in his arms. he popped his head out from the side and eyed you. "i'll take them back to your room, you should stay in bed!"

jaemin leisurely approached the coffee table, his face was bland with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his pants. despite acting like he didn't want to be here, his curiosity to know whether you were doing well alone was killing him inside; you weren't, it appeared. he gazed around your apartment with feign disinterest before an opened box caught his eyes.

bending down to pick up the medicine, he furrowed his brows and turned to you. "these aren't doctor prescribed medicine."

ignoring the drowsiness in your eyes, you looked at the displeasure on jaemin's face before you sighed, "i didn't see a doctor."

"you what?" jaemin exclaimed in disbelief while the rest of the boys gasped in what sounded to be disapproval.

there it went. there came the wave of complaints and disagreement piling out of their mouths like rainwater flooding into the ditch. the migraine in your head magnified the more frustration built up inside you, trying to force you to explode on the boys who only meant well.

"yes, i didn't visit a doctor. stop making a big deal out of it," you retorted, straining your voice to make yourself heard. "do you know how expensive an appointment at the clinic is?"

"still! it's always better to visit a doctor!" renjun pointed out softly.

the others agreed with him like dominos, opinions falling on top of each other in the form of noises. you closed your eyes in hopes to cancel their presence, but they've been talking nonstop it felt impossible to ignore them.

their voices were adding to your nausea, too many words to understand and to process that you felt useless not being able to retain their words as quickly as usual. it made you want to vomit, it made your chest tighten, it made your tummy hurt.

"god... please... shut up," you muttered under your breath as you glared at the floor. "shut up... stop talking... stop talking!"

the heat burst.

"[name]..." jaemin began cautiously, dropping the empty box of pills on the table as he eyed you sturdily.

you grimaced; your lips quirking down in guilt and your eyes darting elsewhere but their faces. seeing their innocent, good-intentioned, widened eyes would just make you feel like a bad person more than anything. shaking your head, you waved your hand at them dismissively and proceeded to turn away.

"thank you for coming, but please leave because i don't need your help," you said, "i'm gonna go to bed. lock the door when you leave."

the boys watched you move back to your room slowly, still surprised at your sudden outburst. they half-expected something like this to happen, but not exactly the way it turned out. they did come here fully prepared to be kicked out kindly knowing well your inability to accept aid from others, but the event has taken a turn for even worse, it seemed. they had not expected you to yell at them.

donghyuck turned away from the sink, his confused gaze darting between the door to your bedroom and the rest of his friends. "we're not actually leaving, right?"

"no, but we will leave them alone," jeno mumbled, fiddling with his fingers. "for now, at least."

jaemin's eyes trailed after your steps and they have yet to tear themselves away from your bedroom door.

he knew you well, better than the rest of his friends if he could say so. even though you might have meant what you said, you wouldn't do anything if they refuse to listen. and the consequences of adhering to your request and leaving you alone when you just did something you didn't want to would outweigh those of them not listening to you.

you don't need help, you never ask for them, whatever reason that was. but you do want them when they were presented to you. he knew that much, at least.

"jaemin, where are you going?" jeno asked when he saw his friend shuffling across the small living room.

nobody talked when jaemin moved to your room and knocked on your door. he pushed it open without waiting for your permission, and the stifled cries stayed beneath the walls unknown to the outsiders. he softened at the sight of you helplessly rubbing your tears with your forearm, wanting nothing more than to coddle you, but he leaned against the door instead.

"feeling bad now, are we?" jaemin said to catch your attention.

your head hurt, the pain was piercing. but nothing shattered you more than realizing you were a bad person for refusing help from good people who cared about you, realizing the mortifying cycle of loneliness you cannot thrust yourself out of because you could not accept any form of good social interaction. you were never one to cry from those whimsical things, you were used to it, but the thought of your friends shuffling out of your apartment and leaving the area dead cold made you cry.

you still have them now, but for how long, really? how many more "leave me alone" and "i don't want your help" would they take until they truly leave you alone for good?

you sobbed out breathlessly, your words continuously getting cut off against your will. eventually, you made out a sentence.

"jae-jaemin, my head hurts."

like a sharp shot through his heart, jaemin wavered and crumbled. he wasn't sure if this kind of melting was good, but he was taking the ache along with him. he approached you swiftly and sat down on the edge of your bed, a spoiled gaze dawning within his eyes while he moved his hand to your head, threading his fingers through your hair and messaging your scalp.

"try going to sleep, it'll help," he coaxed.

the more you cried, the more he sunk himself onto your bed. he kept his head high up against the headboard of your bed, and he let you snuggle close against his side for comfort. your head hastily leaned against his chest, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you tried to focus on the rhythm of which he scratched your head dotingly.

"shhh, it's okay," he hushed, reaching his free arm over you to pat your back. "it's going to be okay."

jaemin was always so kind. everyone was always so kind. with their homemade soup, their refusal to abandon you at a tough spot, their snark remarks against your constant attacks, their nagging and coaxing—they were your friends.

you never knew why it took so much effort to get it into your head that they were going to be here whether you wanted them to or not. when you pushed them away, they would push back ten times harder, however many times they needed to. they knew you hated blatant affection so they never show it, nor do they make you show it, but it was here. flowing between their heads was love, discreet love, love that sat in patience, understanding, and stubbornness.

you pack a mean punch, but they could take it.

"jaemin... how are they doing?"

jaemin looked up from your sleeping face to find donghyuck at the door. his hands were wet from messing around in the kitchen, and he wiped them clean on his pants as he quietly approached the bed to take a peek at you. he raised his brow when he saw your face smushed against jaemin's chest and hidden under your arm, then he signed.

sleeping, huh. good. he heard you cry from outside a while ago, everyone did. nobody said anything about it and the living rooms were hushed quieter until your sobs gradually calmed down.

"are you going to stay here?" donghyuck asked after he pulled away. "you might get sick."

"yeah," jaemin nodded down at you, "i might."

donghyuck pursed his lips together, then he shrugged. "alright, i'll leave you then. do you want me to turn the lights off?"

"no, i don't want to fall asleep," jaemin said, stroking your head gently. then he nudged his chin toward donghyuck. "i do want my phone though."

donghyuck scoffed when he was by the door. he was only gonna turn the lights off because it would help you, so if that wasn't needed...

"interesting," he said. "i'm not your errand boy, though. you can stay bored."

jaemin held back a hiss when donghyuck ran out to the living room. he grimaced after the opened door, eyes wide in annoyance that donghyuck left the lights on and the door open, that irresponsible bastard! and he wouldn't even run to get a phone, which would only take a couple of steps!

turning his attention, he glanced down at you instead and breathed out a sigh. he wasn't going to be on his phone for long anyway, he just wanted to tell jisung and chenle you were doing okay. other than that, he has the plan to stare at you until you wake up—your scrunchy nose and closed puffy eyes were abnormally adorable, he has to admit.

"yeah, i'll get him," jaemin whispered playfully down at you. "we'll get him when you wake up."

[shorkbrian]

Hello I went to IKEA yesterday and got myself a BLÅHAJ (giant plush shark) now I have TWO giant shark plushies on my bed and I’m in heaven. ANyways it got me thinking? A yandere and plushies?? 

Warnings - NSFW, non con, dub con, Tamaki is a voyuer without your consent, Kirishima is sweet but deluded, Bakugou is mean but caring, and Dabi is straight up AwfulTM

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KIRISHIMA

Would be so soft, notice how you have plushies littering your bed at home so he’ll buy you some. Even if you’re the kind of person who doesn’t have plushies crowding their bed, he’s still gonna buy them for you.

He likes giving them to you, thinks it’s romantic when he presents them with a bundle of flowers. You think it’s anything but,  yet still accept the stuffed animal begrudgingly because it’s so soft and cuddly. 

It becomes a comfort object, something you can’t seem to let go of. If you’re watching tv, the stuffed animal is on the couch too. Making food? The plushie is set next to you on the counter where you can grab it. At night-time it’s clutched in your arms, suffocated against your chest the very same way Kiri clutches you to his.

Getting fucked silly? The plushie is crushed in your arms as you cry, and Kiri thinks it’s so cute and it makes his heart clench. Something about it makes him go wild, maybe it’s how small you seem, how innocent with a stuffed animal wrapped in your arms as if it could protect you from his relentless kisses.

He loves you so much, he’s always buying you plushies. Kirishima catches on the fact that they’re a comfort object for you, something that you use to ground yourself when something stresses you out.

He always brings your biggest plushie to you when he’s gonna fuck you hard, like the kind, considerate man he is. It’s so big that you can wrap both arms around it while you sob, while he ruts into you like a wild animal.

Likes laying you over your plushie and watches you cry into it as he fucks you so good you’re screaming in ecstasy. Kiri especially loves fucking you early in the morning or late at night, turns you on your side and has sleepy sex while you sniffle and hold your stuffed animal.

He accidentally rips one of them one time while he’s fucking you, he got too excited and wanted to see your face as you came, tried to pull the plushie out of your arms and ended up ripping it in half.

You had cried so hard and he felt so bad, bought you ten more plushies and giant candy bar to make up for it. For the next few weeks he was so, so gentle with you, pushing down his primal urges to get feral and use you like a whore whenever he saw you being unwittingly cute and sexy as you went about your day.

Although, to be honest it’s not hard for you to be sexy. You bend over and he wants to rip off your clothes, bury himself into your pussy. You stretch to get a glass off a high shelf and he wants to lift you onto the counter, make you kneel so he can eat out your pussy. You literally walk across the floor and the big man is salivating at the sight of your breasts bouncing slightly underneath your top, wants to pull and suck at them until they’re red and sore. But like a good loevr, he holds himself back and only pulls you to the bedroom and treats you gently. For a few weeks at least, until he can’t take it anymore.

Then it’s back to rabid fuck-sessions whenever you do so much as breathe

If you upset him (please try not to), The plushie will get ripped out of your hands, discarded onto the floor. He won't let you grab it before he’s lifting you up against the wall, tearing off your shorts and sheathing his cock inside of you. 

When that happens, you have nothing left to hold but him. Kirishima doesn’t like getting upset with you, but deep down he really relishes the way you grab and clutch at him like he’s your lifeline. 

BAKUGOU

Doesn’t really think much about it, but maybe he sees a cute ad or something pretty in a store window and it reminds him of you. Probably he saw the plushie bought it for you cause he wants to see you holding it. 

Gives it to you, but doesn’t really think much of it after that. Thinks it’s cute how you had blushed when he pulled the silky soft stuffed animal out of the bag. You had been surprised, because usually Bakugou is buying you lewd outfits or lingerie, not cute plushies. You were honestly kind of grateful that you wouldn’t have to model your gift for the man; he always insisted you do with everything else he bought for you.

It doesn’t bother him that you leave it on the bed. Honestly, he doesn’t even think of it. But when he sees you tucking it underneath the covers like a little kid, he gets lost in thought.

Dude probably hadn’t even thought about kids, but seeing you be so soft and sweet to a inanimate toy had him fantasizing about the future with you. You would be a great mother, and he’d be a good father. 

And that’s how Bakugou ends up with a breeding kink. 

When he crawls over you the first night, groaning about making a kid that’d be so smart and strong and great, you panic. You don’t want a kid with him, he’s volatile and explosive and abusive, it’s a recipe for disaster. 

You beg and cry and plead with him to keep you on the pill, and you do to so sweetly and utterly humiliate yourself while doing so, and Bakugou can’t tell you no. So he promises that it won’t happen just yet.

But if you’re bad? He’s gonna hold you down and fuck into you so fast that you get dizzy, threaten to flush the birth control pills down the toilet. He runs his mouth, goes on and on about how he’ll fuck you until you’re swollen with his kids, how your tits will get so big and round and full of milk and he’ll suck and bite at them everyday.

After that threat, you try your hardest to always be good.

TAMAKI

Obviously is too shy to kidnap you just yet. The ravenette gets you one of those nanny-cam bears, one that has a camera inside without it being obvious.

He stutters as he gives it to you, ears bright red, shuffling his shoes and not able to meet your eyes. Says its because the little animal reminded him of you, that they’re his favorite and immediately bites his tongue after he admits that.

You probably think it’s cute, smile as he pushes it into your hands. You can’t tell that the poor man is almost cumming in his pants when his hands brush against your arm. You know he’s shy, so it’s not surprising that he immediately bolts as soon as he’s given you the stuffed animal.

A camera doesn’t even cross your mind, Tamaki too innocent and you too trusting. The stuffed animal gets placed in your armchair, the one in your bedroom that you sit in to read. Lucky for Tamaki, it faces your bed.

He watches you quite a lot, laying down in his own bed with his laptop on the nightstand. The man likes to imagine the two of you sharing the same bed, but can’t get far without blushing and covering his face with a pillow at the slightest dirty thought.

When you masturbate for the first time, Tamaki cries. He cries because he’d been watching you ever since you got in bed, had watched as you slowly kicked off your shorts and had cum the second you peeled your panties down. He cries because he’s overstimulated, unable to stop jerking his cock as he watches you pleasure yourself, the man almost numb and shaking as he orgasms for the third time in half an hour.

By the time you finish, Tamaki is blubbering, can’t stop watching, can’t stop pumping his overstimulated cock in time to your fingers plunging into your pussy.

He doesn’t turn his TV on anymore.

DABI

Is the type to get some awful, scratchy, over-filled abomination like the stuffed animals you get from the fair. It’s an ugly one, horribly deformed and badly sewn, eyes bulging and one of it’s limbs shorter than the others. 

Probably doesn’t think to give it to you until he’s headed home, knows it’s what couples do and thinks that maybe you’ll stop screaming when he touches you. 

He barely got his dick out one time and you had cried so hard you passed out. Now if he goes anywhere near you you’re immediately alert, wide eyes never leaving him. If he so much as touches you he has to be prepared for you to scream and cry and try to bite him.

He guesses that’s what happens when you kidnap someone.

Getting you a stuffed animal does not make anything better.

But Dabi’s tired of you refusing him, of you crying and being a little bitch. He’s been blueballed for the past two weeks, just because he was trying to be nice and let you adjust.

So he takes the deformed stuffed animal he stole and shoves it in your mouth. 

It muffles your cries while he grinds his dick into your sensitive walls, and really, that’s all he needs. You feel so good, Dabi doesn’t care that behind your makeshift gag you’re cursing his existence.