#at least im good at sneezing?

[farthertothemoon]

I want to draw but I have no motivation and no ideas so uhhhhh

Anyone who knows my characters got any kinky snz ideas I could do for Rari or Arda? (Rari is the half dragon guy with a generally sensitive nose and Arda's the human monhun hunter with feather allergies if you haven't seen them but wanna suggest something anyway)

[chronic-invisibility]

Ya boy got not 1 but 2 friday the 13th tattoos today!

[orcelito]

oh fuck it's may now

my birthday is in 12 days

[indicatriiix]

the dark lord/the boy who lived

[6xillaa]

Ken sato x !reporter reader

oh, how he wishes you saw him as a man and not a boy.

cw for everything below: age difference (its used for the plot), suggestive (depending on who you ask)

thinking about kenji trying to impress reader in his games. the reader who is older, more mature and composed than him. who always comments on his arrogance in their articles or interviews. honestly, you were his harshest critic! it was your nickname amongst your co-workers as well. everyone knew you held hatred for him, and so did he. you frequently commented on his age and how it isn't smart to put so much faith into such a young and ignorant man and call him a living legend. "he isn't mature enough!" you always stated.

he hated that. his age doesn't make him better or worse than anyone else; he was just better because he was ken sato. but that didn't stop him from trying to act older, at least around you. because it was for you.

he's still so desperate to impress you. he'd do cooler moves in games, smile at the camera more in interviews, and, even though it seemed impossible, he became more prideful. but he couldn't help it! feeling your intense gaze on him as he walked onto the field or got into a stance, it was invigorating.

he especially got a rise out of seeing you roll your eyes, slumping back in your seat, crossing one leg over the other once you realized there was nothing for you to comment on his performance. it was perfect. so perfect that it would (sometimes, if he was lucky) get a small, ever so slight, smile from your lips. even better if he saw you nod your head in approval. so after one of (arguably) his best perfomances yet, one he spent weeks practicing just for his pretty little critic, he walks up to you, ready to soak in all the praise he believed he deserved.

"so... how was that y/n?" he teased, slamming himself into your personal space. it's his favorite place! if you thought it belonged to you, it was also his. "leave me alone, sato." you grumble, not wanting to admit your defeat to him. "it was good, wasn't it? right? righttt?" you push him away and begin walking away, eyes looking straight forward to avoid his gaze.

"oh c'mon, am i really that bad you can't even compliment me?" he pouted playfully, poking your oh so soft cheek, giving it a slight pinch. "fine, sato! you're a good player. you impressed me today, enough for me to even say im... proud of you." if you were to sneeze each time kenji's heart began to race, it'd look like you're having a seizure because of how fast it was.

"then why dont you show me how proud you are of me," this made you halt, snapping your head towards him. "how?" you asked, eyes focused on his lips that quirked up into a grin. "take me out to dinner. tommorow night. let me pick, and i'll consider the debt you owe me paid off." he smiled, taking a step back, allowing you to breathe again. when did you stop? "i'm not indebted to you anyway?" you retort, pushing him back even more to feel like you had the upper hand here. "yes, you are! all the times you've doubted my abilities! am i not worthy of getting an apology? a gift?" he said dramatically, placing his hand on his chest.

you sputter nothing in disbelief, until something clocks inside of your little brain. "are you asking me on a date, sato?" you asked, crossing your arms over your chest, a shit eating grin on your face. he leans down to your level, which is when you register how much taller he was than you, and tilts his head to the side. "and if i am?" kenji's voice goes quieter. "you're not my type." you mock, mimicking his tone. "i like them older." to this, he laughs. "you like grandpa's y/n? you like them near their deathbed?" he joked, trying (and failing) to hide his laughter. "yeah, atleast they're gentlemen, unlike you."

"i may not be the most gentlemanly person on earth, but i am a gentle man in everything else."

oh! oh. now you were entering dangerous territory. not for him, for you. it was so clear what he was setting up as a trap, and yet, despite all the warning signs there was, opened your plump little lips and asked with the purest face ever (even though your thoughts were the complete opposite) "how can i know if youre lying or not?"

and kenji, oh the annoying ken sato who you would never admit admired, not even on your deathbed, stepped closer to you, leaned down near your ear, and said in the loudest voice, loud enough so that you cant mishear him, and quiet enough that no one else can, says

"why dont i show you?"

if your composure was a ship, it would be near the ocean floor, the reason for sinkage; ken sato. right when your last functioning braincell is able to deliver a quip before total failure, someone calls kenji over. "you have a interview remember?" it yelled. "coming!" he smiled sweetly, kissing your cheek ever so softly.

the immature baseball player might not be as immature as you thought...

(thanks for the support on the last one, so i thought i'd write another one because im desperate for this man, like he's desperate for the reader, lowk. also i didnt fully proofread itmso sorry if skme names r missing colors and whatnot)

[4unnyr0se]

❥ sfw & n$fw headcanons - yuu nishinoya & morisuke yaku

warnings: timeskip! characters, fem! reader, they're sweetiepies, noya is actually a freak, roleplay, switch! noya, hickeys, spanking, mentions of unprotected sex, dom! yaku, slight breeding kink with yaku, cowgirl, doggystyle, they love you so much

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 2k

a/n: im sorry if yaku is ooc i wrote this at 2am and i do not feel like editing anything. n$fw is censored because i would like to keep my blog lmao

Yuu Nishinoya - SFW

❥ Absolutely whipped for you the second he lays his eyes upon you. You could be doing anything, literally anything, and he knew right then and there that he would die for you, no questions asked.

❥ He doesn’t really care what qualifies as a “date” as long as he gets to spend time with you. You could be folding laundry together, and he thinks it’s the most romantic date you’ve been on because you’re with him and you’re his entire world.

❥ Spontaneous. Gifts. He’ll send flowers to where you work, give you cool rocks he found while hiking or doing some other such thing, making you a care basket full of your favorite chocolates and snacks, contracting Sugawara to help him write love letters (writing is not his strong suit but he still wants to do it.)

❥ So much food, like…just so much food. You’ve been to every restaurant in town at least twice because that boy loves to eat. Even if you aren’t a big eater, he’ll still make sure you get three meals a day plus snacks. And if you struggle to eat, he’ll be so happy even if you only eat a little bit off your plate.

❥ Quality time and physical touch are his love languages, so expect to be getting kisses often. Pecks on the cheek in public, his arms wrapped around your waist from behind as you wash dishes in the sink. And if he’s jealous? He has no problem making out with you in front of people because you’re his, and the world should know.

❥ Speaking of physical touch, this man will not stop holding your hand. At least one part of him is touching a part of you at any given moment when you’re together as if he’s afraid you’d float away if he let go.

❥ Hella clingy, this man is incredibly clingy. If you get up to use the restroom when you’re cuddling, he’s waiting outside the door for you to come back so he can kiss those beautiful lips of yours. He just can’t get enough!

❥ Obsessed with you and everything that you do. Did you sneeze? He’s on the verge of tears because you look so fucking cute when you sneeze. Did you buy a new outfit? He’s throwing a tantrum until you model it for him so he can shower you with praise. Noya worships the ground you walk on and them some. 

❥ Lowkey possessive but in a good way. Deep down, he’s worried that you’ll leave him for someone taller or better than he is, so he gets a tiny bit jealous when he sees someone talking to you that he considers a threat. Of course, you’re free to do whatever you like. He would never tell you what you can and cannot do. He respects you too much for that. But he will talk to you about his feelings because he’s mature like that.

N$FW

❥ So. Many. Hickeys. This ties into the part of him being possessive. He wants to let everyone know that you’re his, and what better way to show you off than by parading you around town with your neck and chest covered in little red and purple bruises? You’ve nearly gone bankrupt on buying just concealer because once a hickey fades away, a new one will take its place in no time at all.

❥ Literally anything the two of you do will end in him fucking you or vice versa. If you bend down to pick something up, his hands are groping your ass, and he’s pulling down your panties and shoving his fingers into your pussy, all the while whispering the filthiest things in your ear. 

❥ This motherfucker whines and whimpers, and he’s so incredibly loud about it. The second he shoves his dick inside, he becomes a babbling, pussydrunk mess that’s only focused on you cumming all over his cock.

❥ Noya is 100% a switch who doesn’t lean towards being submissive or dominant. He just does whatever you want him to. Do you want him to fuck you stupid for hours on end? He’s down for that? Do you want to tie him up, blindfold him, and ride him until he can’t think. Also completely down for that. 

❥ Endless stamina. As long as you’re up for it, he can fuck you for the entire day. He simply doesn’t believe in a recovery period on his end. He’ll fuck you from sunrise to sunset. All you have to do is ask.

❥ Tits man 100%. Noya loves tits, no matter the size or shape. If you have huge tits, he’s fondling them as he takes you from behind. Medium-sized tits? He sucks on them as you ride his cock, relishing in the taste. Small tits? He plays with your pert nipples as he fucks you missionary. All tits are good tits in his eyes

.❥ Highly experimental in the bedroom. He’ll try anything and everything if it means you both get to feel good. From you pegging him to him filming your third orgasm of the night, he’s down for whatever. The only things he isn’t okay with are hitting you (impact play) and sharing you with others. He will casually slap your ass but that’s as far as he’ll go. He just can’t bring himself to hit you, even if it turns you on.

❥ Could eat you out for literal days and not get tired, not even for one second. He wants you cumming on his tongue and pulling on his hair as you beg him for more, and he’ll give it to you.

❥ Focuses on your pleasure, not his own. You’re his goddess and he’d do anything to serve you, anything to make you cum again and again.

❥ Has a whole index of kinks, but his top ones are roleplay and passionate sex. Dress up as a teacher, and he’ll cum in his pants, begging on you to punish him for failing your class.

❥ Loves to make love to you.

❥ “Yeah? You like it when I fuck you with my fingers, angel? M’gonna make you cum so fucking much for me, my perfect angel.”

❥ “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight. Can’t get enough of this dick, can you baby? Gotta fuck you stupid.”

❥ “More, I want more! I’ve been so bad, I deserve to be punished, ma’am!”

❥ “Talk to the camera for me, angel. Tell the camera how many times my cock made this pussy squirt all over the sheets.”

❥ “Gonna fucking cum inside, can’t pull out. Oh, fuck, baby, you’re fucking milking me dry, shit.”

❥ “Faster, fuck me faster! Wanna fucking cum so bad, please! I’ve been good, right?”

Morisuke Yaku - SFW

❥ Loves when you get an attitude with him because he also has an attitude. He loves when you talk back to him and when you tell him how you really feel, it’s just so refreshing. Honesty is very important to Yaku.

❥ You and Yaku basically continue to mother Lev well after you’re both graduated. Lev will call and text you for advice and you’ll gladly help him, even if Yaku gets a little jealous that you’re paying more attention to the oversized Russian than you are to your own boyfriend.

❥ Takes you on the most romantic restaurant dates ever. He has professional athlete money, so order whatever the hell you like! If you want five lobsters, get five lobsters. As long as his baby is happy.

❥ Spoils you rotten, but he won’t ever admit it. If you point out a cute necklace that you saw in a magazine, it’s there when you wake up the next morning. Yaku will pretend to not know how it got there, but he knows, obviously. Expect lots of expensive gifts when you’re dating, especially from designer brands. Half of your closet is Chanel and you sure as hell aren’t complaining.

❥ Not that big on PDA, but will wrap an arm around your waist in public. Since he’s a well-known libero in the Russian Volleyball League, he gets approached on the street sometimes. He doesn’t want to draw too much attention to himself (especially if you hate getting attention from strangers, so he holds off on kissing you until you’re in the privacy of his penthouse apartment.

❥ Pleads and begs until you adopt a cat together. He just wants a cat with you, any cat will do. It can be a cat you found in a dumpster or a cat that cost someone’s entire yearly salary, he just wants a cat to raise with you by his side.

❥ Wraps his arms around your waist as you cook and leave kisses on your neck. Whether you’re taller or shorter from him, get ready for hugs and kisses from behind.

❥ If you struggle with your body image, he’ll kiss away all your insecurities. His lips will be on yours for hours as he tells you how perfect you are, and how much he loves you. He’ll kiss away your tears as you start crying as well, because to him you are perfect.

N$FW

❥ Not very vocal in bed, but he does make plenty of grunts and groans. The only time you’ll ever really hear him moan is when you bite down on his incredibly sensitive neck, which will make him cum on the spot.

❥ Advocate for safe and healthy sex but prefers to hit it raw. He’ll use a condom if you want him to, he isn’t a monster. But the way you react when his cum fills out of your womb makes him want to wife you up and fuck you every single day.

❥ Designer lingerie is his weakness, especially the ones with garters that squeeze your thigh beautifully. If you wear red lingerie around him, be prepared to not be able to walk tomorrow because he will ruin your pussy.

❥ 100% a pleasure dom. Nothing makes him happier than knowing that he fucks you so good each and every night that you can’t even get off without his help anymore because that’s how much he loves to fuck you.

❥ Ass man. His hands will be on your ass all the time and you just have to accept it. He loves to fuck you from behind because he’s mesmerized by the way your ass moves as he fucks you. His favorite position is doggystyle.

❥ A weird turn-on for him is when you walk around wearing his jersey. He fucking loves it when you wear his jersey, and he can see your lacy panties poking out under the shirt, it drives him wild. If you wear his jersey, he gets an instant boner.

❥ Sit. In. His. Lap. Sit in his lap and dry hump him. He needs it so badly. He loves watching as you struggle to get off on his thigh. You look so cute when you’re desperate.

❥ Definitely a brat tamer. He loves it when you have an attitude because he gets to fuck it out of you later, spanking you as he tells you how much of a brat you are and how you need to learn your lesson. You never do.

❥ Mirror sex. He’s mesmerized by how adorable you look in the mirror as your pussy struggles to take his girthy cock.

❥ “Yeah? Look at yourself in the mirror, princess. Look at how your slutty little pussy is taking me. You’re such a little slut, you’re my little slut.”

❥ “Did you think you could just walk around in my jersey and nothing else? Bend over, princess, right fucking now.”

❥ “I’m so fucking close, shit. You want me to cum inside you, princess? Want me to fill you up and give you my babies? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

❥ “Fuck, you know what red does to me. So fucking slutty for me, babygirl. Now get on the bed and spread those legs nice and wide like a good girl.”

❥ “Take it, fucking take it. That’s my good girl. I love it when you behave for me, princess. Can I get another one of you, my love? I think you can handle another orgasm.”

❥ “You look so pretty when you cum, princess. Do you like how your Morisuke makes you feel? Use your words, princess.”

[anton-luvr]

Hi, how have you been? I love your blog and the way you write!💖 I have a request to make, if you're comfortable with that... How would Riize react when you think they are cheating on you, but in reality it's all a misunderstanding, and they're just too busy. (English is not my first language so I'm sorry if this is a little confusing!)

# WHEN YOU THINK THEY'RE CHEATING ON YOU ; 7riize.

⚝ bf!riize x gn!reader | angst | bf au ⚝ note ; im kinda busy, but im doing good!! thank you so much ily :( and don't worry abt it i understood your req perfectly!! thank u for requesting, i hope u like it <3

# SHOTARO. - for the first time ever, shotaro doesn't smile. he can only sit in silent shock while he processes your words, and the first thing he can think of to do is to hug you. holds you tight as he whispers apologies over and over again, feeling terrible that he made you think that he was cheating on you. reassures you gently that he would never, and promises that once he gets a rest day, he'll spend all his free time with you.

# EUNSEOK. - eunseok isn't one who usually shows his emotions, but pain and guilt is so evident on his face after hearing what you said. he had no idea that you were feeling this way from how busy he's been these days, and he feels awful about it. tells you that he's sorry while wiping your tears away, and he swears to himself to start treating you with more love and care from that day onwards, starting from right now.

# SUNGCHAN. - he hates himself for making you think that he was cheating on you. calls up his boss immediately with the fakest cough and sneezes, lying without batting an eye about how he was 'terribly sick' and needed 'at least two days off' to 'recover'. he spends those two days with you, never once leaving your side as he takes you out to all your favorite places and showers you with love and compliments.

# WONBIN. - even though he immediately reassures you that he's not cheating on you and spends the night with you in his arms, he still feels so bad. life still goes on as usual for the both of you the next day, him busy at work while you were busy with yours. but just to make it up to you, wonbin has a bouquet sent right up into your office - a bouquet of a hundred and one roses, reminding you that you're his one and only lover.

# SEUNGHAN. - he understands how you feel and why'd you think that way, so other than seunghan promising that he'll try to spend more time with you, he also lets you voice out your worries in detail. he listens with full attention, nodding when you mention how you didn't like one of his female coworkers because she seemed so close with your boyfriend. and right after the words have left your lips, seunghan slips out his phone and blocks her on everything, right in front of you. he wants you to rest assured knowing that he couldn't care less for anyone else in this world other than you.

# SOHEE. - sohee has not and would never cheat on you. he loves you too much for that. he tells you just that as he gently kisses away your tears, holding you tightly in his arms for the rest of the night. he feels horrible for making you feel insecure in your relationship, so he makes sure to shower you in extra affection for the next few days. breakfasts in bed, long kisses before he leaves for work, and constant updates with photos about his day to you.

# ANTON. - his heart literally shatters into pieces. he can't help but cry too, because how could he make the love of his life feel this way? he apologizes to you through sniffles and sobs, promising you that he'd never cheat on you. tries his best to finish up his work faster the next day so he can come straight home to you and into your arms.

© anton-luvr, 2023.

taglist : @wonbons @mxlly143 @keehobaldboy @shawyle @yenart @lycheecheeseyogurt

[thegnomelord]

Shark Merperson reader is real gud.

- 🦈

(HOLY FUCK. THANK YOU TO WHICH EVER ANON REQUESTED THAT BECAUSE I FUCKIN LOVE SHARKS.

Now Im thinking of a Price x Reader, because shars are the oldest species known to exist. Obviously sharks arent immortal, they've just been on this earth way b4 tress bloody existed.

So Im thinking the readers an eldritch creature, they represent sharks as a whole, as long sharks exsist they exsist. Heck they mights of even of been Prices mentor when he was in his draconic 100s? (Late 20s?).

Imagine Price missing his friend calls him up to see hows hes doing. Reader elated to meet an old friend, accepts the invitation to meets up with him. Reader definitely scolds him for lossing a wing, honestly is pertrified Price lost a piece of himself and thought he was retiring due to it. Cut ahort to him smacking him slap dab on the head when he learns he's lost it a long time ago and didnt tell him.

Cue wholesome interactions th 141 and etc. Heck maybe some romance with Price.

Just a blurb i had yo tell you abt)

Okay, this tickles my eldrich abomination trying to act human itch

CW:SFW, eldritch reader, kissing

Price knows you're there the second he steps onto the old wooden pier, able to smell seaweed and brine and something in the air — what he thinks the bottom of the ocean smells like, old rot of decaying whales and older heat of geothermal vents — the soft wind billowing his hair like the breathing of an elderly beast.

He knows you're watching him, passively at least, washed up mermaid purses dotting the beach to give you a glimpse of the world above the waves through the yolks vital for the pup's survival, able to dream of the warm sun and course sand while you slumber beneath the waves.

"Oi, ser, yer look like a wee lass waiting for her sailor." Soap's sharp voice cuts through the air, the werewolf far too energized for his own good, the sand in his fur not dampening his mood when he can just shake himself off and flick the grains on Simon.

"Hah," Price snorts, "Maybe I am." He tilts his head back to the sea, sharp eyes watching the breaking waves. "Time to wake up old friend." He mutters your mangled name under his breath, mortal lips and vocal cords unable to replicate your own voice.

The young ones in his team lack the sight needed to notice your form slowly rise from the sea like a submarine breaking through the ice, only the visible flicker of air and the receding water keying them in. Price old enough to see you without needing the inner surface of his skull to be dotted with eyes. Though even he sees your real form like a man having a stroke — vaguely familiar at first yet the details are undefinable — flesh and sea melding together without rhyme or reason, long strings of seaweed bearing miniature eyes with pups wriggling inside, cookie cutter sharks boring holes through finless corpses so long eel sharks may form ever reforming sinews, fossilized bone and old rock giving giving support to the massive insult to reality's laws; birth and life wrapped up in death.

You're an affront to logic. And with one sneeze from existence itself you're human standing in front of him.

Eerily human.

Perfectly human.

Almost.

"What the fuck?" He can faintly hear Gaz's voice, all of them only now noticing you stand where you weren't previously.

Your hand touches his back before he even registers you move, always slightly damp, "When did this happen?" You ask as you trace the spot where his wing used to be. "What did this?"

"And a 'hello' to you too sweetheart." He clasps a hand around your waist, purring softly in greeting as he pulls you closer to his chest. Even if he sees you once every few centuries, even if you don't possess the ability to reciprocate, his love for you is as youthful as it was when he was but a wyrm.

Your facial features remain neutral like the ones of sunken statues, but you blink, and for a few seconds he can see that yawning abyss in your eyes. "Hi." You say, your hand still tracing the bump created by atrophied flight muscles, trying to judge how fresh it is. "Explain."

Your tone sounds like a predator baring it's teeth, but he knows you wouldn't harm him. "In a lil' bit." He snorts, puts pressure on your back until he forces your legs to move. "Come, want you to meet my boys."

The introductions are odd on both ends considering you hadn't spoken with people other than Price since that Icarus of a passenger ship mistook your fin for an iceberg and they've never met an old one like you. But you like them, they compliment Price just like the small scale he gave you makes the pearls and gold offered to you through the ages shine more.

Even if your face is unreadable, somehow they can figure out you're not too amused when you hear he'd lost his wing during a mission. "I told you arrogance would cost you." You at least you can mimic a sigh as you rub your head, "At least you retired." You say,

"We wish!" Soap snorts before he can help it, and the next thing they hear is a horrific crack that has them jumping out of their skin.

Your head had whipped 180 degrees with the rest of your body remained in place, the laws of nature nothing more but blurry guidelines. "You. . .did retire?" You ask, voice like the roar of a whirlpool.

"About that," Price starts, unable to finish his thought as you slap him upside the head as if he's still the whelp who thought he could brave an ocean storm.

"You'll put me in the grave." You growl, holding him by the ear, words spilling from your mouth like seawater filling the empty bowels of a ship. "I swear your scaly hide hasn't learned a single thing-"

"Should we help?" Gaz wonders as they watch you chastise their captain like he's a boy.

"No, this is great entertainment." Ghost chuckles.

"Want me ta grab the popcorn?" Johnny ads, already snacking, tail thumping against Simon's leg and growling playfully when Gaz reaches for the snacks.

Eventually your anger relents, mood changing as swiftly as the tide. You spend the time they have left learning about the men he's chosen as his hoard. Kyle's a bit weary of you just due to his harpy nature, but soon enough you two can be found sitting on the pier and fishing, and if you purposely make the waves flow so a big fish snags on Kyle's line, Price never says anything about it, not when his boy has a smile as big as the sun when he looks at the gigantic fish flopping on his hook.

You attempting to help Soap cook the barbeque, but you're fine motor skills are rusty after all these years of slumber, so the food is slightly burnt but Price loves when his food's basically charcoal and eats it with a smile, especially as it keeps you from telling all the embarrassing stories you have of him, from when he got his ass bit by a squid to when he was so horny he ended up rutting against an extra curvy piece of rock, though the rest have already heard enough dirt to bury him for the next several decades.

Unfortunately for Price, you and Ghost hit it off like a house on fire, and Ghost ends up learning far too many ways to hurt people without killing them that most definitely are against the Geneva conventions but you pull seniority on it. Simon in turn, teaches you how to play cards, which, when you're literally a god that can see almost everything including your opponent's cards, means the shmucks Simon ropes into playing you and Simon end up with empty pockets.

As the sun stars to dip behind the horizon you wind up sitting next to Price by the fire, the others splashing in the water.

You feel his wing spread behind your back to pull you closer to him, "I missed this." He says, knowing you won't comment on the 'I missed you' hidden behind his vellum words.

"Last time we met like this Napoleon was still emperor." You hum, a small yawn escaping you, sharp tips of shark teeth peeking from human gums. "And you had two wings." You can't help but point out, making it clear you've not forgiven him about not informing you.

Price pointedly ignores your later comment, his hand tentatively, almost shyly, reaching down to sit on top of yours. "Afraid I'll forget about you?"

His pulse picks up when you shift your hand to hold his, fingers lacing together when you don't have a tail as a human. "You wait for me." You shrug, holding your free arm up, reality wheezing for a few moments before his scale is suddenly in your hand, shiny and unharmed just as it was when he'd given it to you all those years ago. "And I dream of you."

His eyes widen and heart melts, a purr rumbling in his chest "C'mere sweetheart," He rumbles and pulls you into a kiss, free hand holding your chin stable.

You taste of salt and blood, of chilling cold and boiling heat, of something ancient and familiar and Price drinks it all down like a babe, tongue licking in your mouth and fangs nibbling on your lip, feeling you respond, the touch of hungering god as soft as silk, just to him.

But he knows this won't last.

A shark has no reason to stay on land, and a dragon can't survive underwater regardless of how much he wants. Soon you'll return to slumber, and Price won't know when he'll see you again, if he'll see you again, or if you'll learn of his passing when your waves swallow up his ashes.

He doesn't notice the prickling in his eyes but you do, wiping a stray tear with the pad of your thumb, your other hand still wrapped around his. "Don't worry John," You say, statue features finally cracking into a small smile, "I'll stay for a little while." You say and lead him into another kiss, the other members of TF141 leaving you two to catch up on lost time...

[motherboardmania]

chronic sniffler.

soap and tissues thoughts under the cut

the thing abt soap n tissues is that theyve got like. Really opposite versions of the same problem. tissues' condition causes him to have problems with cleanliness, and soap's OCD (not canonically stated but. its pretty coded.) causes her to be obsessed with compulsively cleaning to the point of... putting hand sanitizer in pizza. Which is pretty bad.

shes clearly really afraid about potential contaminants which, yeah. OCD is based in fear and uncertainty. its not gonna be easy for her to manage it, even if she dumps all her cleaning supplies off a cliff. things Do need to be cleaned, and i feel like her avoiding cleaning supplies could easily result in a worse avoidance-based compulsion. (like, "oh theres sponges here. Sponges mean things need to be cleaned. things in here might be unclean, so i need to throw out the sponges." which isnt logical but OCD doesnt adhere to logic anyway.)

i think her tossing her cleaning supplies off the cliff was already a significant attempt to stop feeding into her contamination fear through compulsive cleaning! which is great. but i think it would be a great additional step for her to talk to tissues more often, especially because he was unfairly caught in the crossfire.

i think itd be cool for them to make amends. tissues could provide a healthy outlet for soap's urge to clean, and point out when she's being obsessive. n soap could help tissues out with cleanin up when hes havin trouble, and keep him company during flares bc sneezing, nausea, vertigo, + chronic pain is definitely something thats easier to cope with when youre not also lonely about it. At least for me. (coughs awkwardly.) point is i think them being friends would be good for both of them long term.

in FFF tissues noticably softens a little after bein referred to as a friend by fan, and like. emotional comfort definitely helps make the physical a little less bad. i like to think thats why he was able to fall asleep in the chair. also makes me think that maybe people dont consider him a friend nearly as much as hed like, and well that probably makes the chronic illness more frustrating.

idk. being disabled (whether that be mentally or physically) is rough. I want these two disabled girls to be nice to each other n help out where they can. i think they could make each others lives a little easier that way.

this is only like. 1/3 projection. im not going to lie n say im not projecting a little, but these two just happen to have similar problems i do. and i like them a lot for where i can relate, even if we def dont have the same personalities. its nice bein able to see myself in both of em. Also theyre underrated.

[whorbidmore]

okay, so, I've fallen victim to the leon kennedy brainrot steadily overtaking me, following me from Tumblr to Pinterest, to Instagram and even the absolutely fucking dreaded application of TikTok. I don't even use it that often??? and the algorithm is just like 'wow, yeah, this little fuckers gay as hell send in the 40 year old meow meow!!' and having watched Death Island fairly recently, I'm gonna have my opinions on what this dude would be like. Cus my brain loves to rationalize shit and think ab 'what if this mf was someone real?' so... fuck it.

Leon Soft Kennedy Headcanons

SFW

accidentally bigoted. - im sorry but let's be so fucking real here. he's a 40 something year old man who spent the majority of his life in either the military, a police training academy in the 90's, or otherwise working under the U.S Federal System with minimal/no time between missions to unpack absolutely everything he's got going on... the guys gonna have some problematic tendencies. Obviously that doesn't mean he means any of that or is incapable of change, etc. etc., but I know for damn certain this dude would laugh a little at Bill Burr's borderline to blatantly misogynistic material and has probably chuckled unironically at the attack helicopter jokes. But, he's not a complete dick, and would definitely become more critical of those kinds of jokes if it's pointed out to him.

honest to God, Dad Without Kids™ - it's not simply enough for me to leave it at 'but it's the vibes!!' so, I'm gonna break this shit down. Leon is absolutely Gen X incarnate. I can fucking guarantee you that on his off days he accidentally ends up dressing as an undercover cop; I'm talking cargo shorts, light blue button up, those fucking standard issue boots cus "they're perfectly good shoes" and those stupid ass sunglasses... you know the ones I'm talking about. Let's say you're living with him, right? And you're... you, and you wanna watch something on TV. This dude would strain himself getting up like a turtle fallen backwards on its shell, stand up, walk right in front of the TV screen and stand there with his hands on his hips. It doesn't matter that he had to piss, he needs to get a better look of what's happening! Does those really loud, obnoxious coughs and sneezes, absolutely blows his back out doing one at least five times a year.

Only watches British Reality TV - Considering he's canonically a film buff, I'll say that this is purely for whatever he gravitates towards on general streaming services. I honestly don't see him being the type to regularly tune in to standard American cable TV, or only does so under specific circumstances like American Ninja Warrior or maybe Forged in Fire if there's absolutely nothing else. It's not something that's exclusive to Americans, — I'm from New Zealand and I do this too, — but Leon absolutely falls into the category of watching British Reality and Game shows purely because of the accents. I'm talking Jeremy Kyle, The Big Fat Quiz of Everything, Taskmaster, The Great British Bake Off and so on and so forth. It doesn't matter that baking isn't his forté or a passion of his, if Josephine curdles her buttercream by over mixing, his hands are in his hair in utter disappointment. 100% tries to mimic their accents too. We all do it, don't lie.

Has... very dated music tastes - I don't know if you could guess, but the last paragraph included me calling myself out and name dropping some shows I watch anyway or grew up watching, and I'm just saying that this is gonna be no different. If anything? This'll be worse! Since I'm very passionate about the music I listen to and have the inability to keep my interests separated from the other, of course my love of particular bands will bleed over into my interpretation of Leon's character! Anyway, all that for me to say that Leon fucking LOVES 90's grunge musicians, specifically Pearl Jam and Soundgarden, as well as early nu metal bands like Korn (their dubstep phase did not happen.), TOOL, and Rage Against the Machine — and no, he unfortunately doesn't see the irony of him being a fed and listening to Rage, — but would also have a soft spot for psych rock, post-punk and shoegaze. My man's definitely laid awake at night, sobbing without expression as he struggles to accept that Ada never really wanted him like he wanted her while listening to fucking Slowdive. My hottest take here is that he doesn't really listen to Deftones. Like he'll occasionally blast My Own Summer, Change, Bored or Rosemary, but anything outside of those? He just didn't listen to 'em. My second hottest take is that he does NOT like Slipknot, which kind of pains me 'cus I do, but I fucking bet you this dude would actually adopt one piece of "Gen Z lingo" or whatever just call them cringe. Though admittedly he would've been jamming the fuck out to Psychosocial and The Devil in I when they came out. Went off the deep end in Vendetta, obviously, and drunk-cried himself to sleep on the couch listening to Linkin Park.

Very confusing spending habits - On one hand, we all understand that Leon came from money, — he was implied to have been born into a mob family from my understanding? And I doubt he'd ever really had to worry about being fully, irrevocably broke, — but I'm sure that growing up in the U.S Foster Care System made him at least a little more cautious of where his money comes from, where it's going, what he's spending it on, etc. So, on the one hand, he's apprehensive to spend recklessly, particularly on perishables. But also, if he can drop over $100,000USD on a motorcycle that got absolutely fucking cheese grated into the road, and spend a perceived, metric fuck ton of money on designer leather jackets and massive watches, it's gonna be hard for me to call him 'financially conscious'. On one hand, he gets apprehensive on spending more money than he needs to on food since he's "just gonna shit it out later", but if he sees a cool watch or a nice suit in a shop window? Money's suddenly not an issue! Not because he's materialistic, but because the one thing he really maintains a sense of control over in his life are his possessions and the way he dresses. The D.S.O can call him in for another months long mission whenever they please, and all he can realistically do is allow the government to tug on his leash and put him where he's needed. He may as well spend their money on things he wants!

Gets out... enough? But also, not really? - So, personally I've pegged Leon as more of an introverted person, — amateurly typed his MBTI as possibly ISFJ? — so he doesn't really feel the need to go out and meet new people or really hang out with anyone. If somebody invites him out? Sure, he'll go. Otherwise, it rarely occurs to him to meet up with friends or colleagues at a cafe or anywhere. I think he'd prefer to just go there alone, mostly for the sake of having somebody else cook for him as opposed to actively seeking out the atmosphere. It's pure convience in his mind. And remember when I said in the beginning about him accidentally being at least a little misogynistic? Yeah, that was me trying to say that he regularly tries to hit on younger waitresses. Not because he actually wants anything to do with them, but simply because it's an ego boost. He likes that he can make girls half his age blush or offer him their numbers, because it tells him that he's still desirable, and ultimately, that gives him the power to reject them politely and go about the rest of his day. If they don't reject him first, of course. Admittedly, Leon's audacity towards women peaked during Infinite Darkness.

Since I'm planning on posting more NSFW headcanons for this guy, — and more NSFW kinds of posts, — here is the obligatory Minors DNI attachment. For your own safety, I don't care if what I have to say is tame so far, you can hold it off I promise.

[betasquadx]

Temperature - Niko Omilana

Summary : Out of nowhere, your bf gets sick on the day when yous were supposed to attend a party, and despite him insisting he was fine, you knew better.

Warnings : sick niko 😭

——

This is heavily inspired by @vctrvn-ls ‘s & @teewritessmth ‘s fics similar to this, go check them out!!

——

You pressed your hand against your boyfriends head, immediately making a face. ‘Shit your burning up.’ You exclaimed.

‘Im fine I swear’ he insisted, sniffling as his blocked nose became more and more clear.

You chuckled, ‘‘no your not niko, your sick.’’ You sighed, watching as he Immediately hushed you down,

standing up, his hands slipping around your waist ‘‘No I swear I’m alright, I’ll be fi-ACHOOO!!’’

He turned his head away as he sneezed. Smiling at him, you leaned in, hugging him while rubbing his back reassuringly.

"It's okay, Niko. It's not an important party,’ "But—,’ ‘‘Shhh, we're staying home, okay? You need to get better."

He pulled away slightly, his half lidded eyes looking down at you, mouth open, nose blocked, and messy hair. “I-.. Its just I know how much you’ve been talking about it and I-”

he rambled on, clearly frustrated by the idea of him ruining the day, when it reality it was something out of his control.

Hushing him quietly, you ran your fingers through his hair while sitting him down. “Baby its okay, I don’t mind at all, in fact, I wouldn’t mind staying home for a change.”

He looked at you then looked down, fidgeting with his fingers as he nodded. “Are you sure?”

"I'm very sure," you whispered, pulling him closer as you felt his forehead again, still as hot as before. “I'm gonna get you some soup and a warm drink, how's that sound, hmm?”

Smiling softly, he closed his eyes, nodding. "Good," he muttered, his voice breaking off as his sore throat became relevant as well. "How about you get back into bed? I will too."

He nodded, immediately getting in bed as you left the room, only for you to return, minutes later, with microwave-heated soup and a warm drink for him.

Walking in, you saw your boyfriend snuggled up in the blankets, head on the pillow, covering his whole body, and shivering slightly. "Shit, how are you so cold? You were heating up just a minute ago," you say worriedly,

putting the soup on the nightstand while sitting beside him. "I feel so cold but so warm as well," he croaked out.

You cup his cheek with your hand as he smiles weakly. "I'm gonna go get you some medicine from the pharmacy, okay?" you whisper, standing up to leave, but before you could, you felt an arm grab onto you.

“Wait..” Looking back at him, his eyes open, looking up at you, he coughed out, "Stay, please." With him in this state, you couldn't leave him, at least not right now.

"Oh Nik,” “please, you can get it later." Reluctantly, you got back into bed, watching him grin and close his eyes, snuggling up with you.

You wrapped your arm around him as he rested his head on your chest, eyes closing while you stroked his hair.

"Thank you," he muttered, his voice sounding hoarse but nonetheless understandable.

"It's alright, now go sleep now, okay?" you replied, feeling him cling onto you like a koala as he dozed off.

——

Didn’t like the ending but whatever

[carrotoplyn]

NOTE : i started these the beginning of march, and i never finished them but im posting these regardless because i haven’t posted shit on this account in like 2 weeks (and i might end up posting ashlyn and logan cooking headcanons at some time in time who knows) also these are NOT proof read

i got bored and i have nothing better to do so i present to you sbg cooking headcanons!!

starting with,

TYLER

best cook out of the group

had to learn how to cook after his dad died so he could feed himself, taylor, and his mother

actually finds cooking comforting and fun in a way

normally ends up cooking with taylor

has a sensitive nose so he sometimes ends up sneezing if there’s like a lot of spices

favorite food to cook and eat is pancakes

TAYLOR

is a mediocre cook

only really cooks whenever tyler cooks

she normally just helps him with stuff

doesn’t trust herself to use a stove without a fire extinguisher somewhere near by

like she can use a stove just fine, but just doesn’t trust herself

doesnt have a sensitive nose like tyler, but doesn’t normally like the smells when cooking (unless it’s like pastries, but that’s baking so uhhh)

her favorite food is waffles and her and tyler always argue about which is better (the answer is waffles btw)

AIDEN

is actually a good cook believe it or not

learned to cook since he had to find something to eat when his parents were on business trips

likes cooking, just doesn’t like cleaning up the mess afterwards

always cooks in the large amounts and cooks everything at once so he doesn’t have to constantly cook all the time

burnt water once (no i will not be expanding on this)

likes cooking pasta (because it’s relatively simple)

BEN

is an ok cook

whenever aiden cooks he cooks with him (or is at least in the same room) to make sure the house doesn’t burn down

fire extinguisher is always on standby cause he doesn’t trust himself

is more of a baker than a cook

is a perfectionist so will go insane if something goes wrong

also doesn’t like using a stove because of the fire (brings back traumatic memories for him)

[slamminslamminmcgill]

I LITERALLY ONLY FINISHED EP 1 OF TLOU BEFORE WRITING THIS 😭 this man just has me going fucking insane rn i had to word vomit. spent my whole day on this bc im delulu

warning: homophobia and transphobia, trans fetishization, degradation/humiliation, slurs, vaginal sex, rough oral sex, NASTY daddy kink (like… borderline incest rp and ddlb maybe idk i just work here), hanky code, spit kink, breeding kink, gags, drug dealing (weed and opioids), reader is a sex worker/weed dealer with clit piercings

anatomical terms: cunt/pussy/kitty, clit/(t-)dick

It started as a drug deal. A bad habit picked up after top surgery. A rumor that this guy sold opioids. A wink and a nod of the head from across the plaza during a hanging. A few hankies tucked in your jeans, two shades of blue on the right, light green and a flag on the left. You were never sure if he knew what they meant. You’d never had the chance to ask. Until today, you happened to have a favor to ask him.

“Look, you know I’m usually reliable, right? If you could just gimme more time, I promise I’ll get you an ounce on Monday, on me.” That was a pretty decent offer. You usually gave him a quarter of bud every trade, so an ounce for the same price was surely nothing to sneeze at.

“If you’re not ready today, you ain’t gettin’ shit today. Sorry, kid.” Fuck. Ah, well. At least he wasn’t mad at you. Plus, he always called you ‘kid’. It made sense, since he was definitely old enough to be your dad. Maybe he had a soft spot for you. And he certainly met the diagnostic criteria for DILF, but goddamnit, your gaydar couldn’t get a reading on him. You figured the best way to find out for sure would be to offer up your other goods and services and see if he takes the bait.

“Well, uh… maybe there’s…” You took a step closer to him, putting all your weight into your hips hoping they’d jump out at him, “…something else I can offer you?”

They didn’t. His stare never shifted from your face. “Like what?” Joel asked unclockably.

You took the tips of your hankies between your fingers and held them out to him, spreading your wings, a display for attracting mates not unlike that of a peacock. “You know what these mean?” You asked with a quirk in the brow and some devious faggotry in your voice.

Joel crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall, a cocky, almost sort of try me type stance. “What do they mean?”

You named your hankies, one-by-one. Green, “This one means I’m a sex worker,” Trans, “This one means I have a pussy,” Navy, “This one means I get fucked,” and Cyan, “This one means I suck co-“

“I’m sorry, that one means what?” Joel interrupted, and pointed at your trans flag. He wasn’t just gonna let you gloss over that, just as you’d hoped.

“Oh, this one?” You pinched the tail of the trans flag and let the rest fall to your sides. A cheeky, cherubic, chaotic smile on your face as you taunted him. “It means I have a pussy. I’m trans.”

Joel’s face contorted in a few spasms of different emotions. A blink of shock, a blip of disgust, a second of intrigue, ‘til he landed on confusion. “So, uh…” His eyes crawled downwards to your crotch, then back up to you. “…how’s that work?”

Sure, you could give him the polite conversation explanation of the transmasculine identity, gender dysphoria and its treatments. Or, you could give the simplest and sexiest possible definition that would appeal to Schrödinger’s Straight Man over here. “Was born a girl, cut my tits off, shot up testosterone, and now I’m a man, but I kept my cunt.”

“Fuckin’ Christ…” He grunted, then cleared his throat, trying his damndest to remain calm and bloodbend his newfound erection away. Today was the wrong day for the light wash jeans. His growing bulge was the visual feedback of your influence on him.

A by-the-book boypussy sales pitch. Testing well with the focus group. You took another step with a sway of the hips, encroaching on his personal space but not penetrating it just yet. “Well? Whaddaya think?”

Joel bit his lip and said nothing for a moment. It seemed he was taking his time to figure out what exactly he did think about your revelation. “…Just 2 pills?”

“Just 2 pills…” You nodded, “Just enough to last me the weekend…” and took another step closer, then one more, until you could reach out and rub his bicep. “I’ll bump you up to an ounce, get it to you on Monday…” Your curious fingers started to trail down his arms and over to his delightfully soft dad-bod tummy. “And I’ll show you a good time today… Show you something you’ve never seen before…”

To say you were coming on pretty strong would be a massive understatement. And, hell, touching him? You were coming on like you had a death wish. Your hand slid downward, down to the heat he was packing in his pants, and stroking his rifle in your game of tactile Russian Roulette.

You loaded the chamber…

“All for just two little pills. So?”

Spun the barrel…

“What do you say?”

And pulled the trigger.

“Please, Daddy?”

And with those two whorish words, he snapped. Joel grabbed you by the wrist and slammed you into the brick wall behind him. You gasped in shock and winced in pain. It happened so fast, you barely had any time to think about the mistake you’d just made, but before you could choke out an I’m sorry, his lips were on yours. You moaned into the kiss and he snarled into it, slobbering all over each other in a fit of lust.

“Bratty little fuckin’ queer. So you’re saying you have a cunt, huh, boy? No bullshit?” Joel sneered as he shoved his hand between your legs. He grabbed your crotch and squeezed it tight, delighted to find no bulge, nothing in his way but a few layers of clothing. “Ooh, damn, kiddo, guess you’re right. Ain’t you fuckin’ special…” He let your wrist fall so he could grab your jaw. “Open,” he commanded, and your lips obliged. He spat into your open mouth, and then his lips were back on you.

Your hands scrambled for purchase on his back, eventually clutching his hair and his shirt for lifelines. The second you’d laid eyes on this guy, you knew he’d be a good fuck, and you couldn’t believe your luck. That monumental gamble you took just now had won you the jackpot, and now it was time to bask in your victory.

Joel grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked you out of the kiss. “You want your fuckin’ pills, cuntboy?”

“Yeees…” That was why you originally came to him, yes, but now you wanted a whole lot more.

“You want those fuckin’ pills?”

“Yeees, yes, I wan-em…”

“Say please.”

“Pleeease…”

“Please, what?”

“Pleeease, Daddyyy… P-Please, Daddy, I wan- I wan’ the pills…”

“You gonna suck your Daddy’s cock for ‘em?”

“Y-Yeees, Daddyyy…”

“So do it.”

Joel dropped you and let you stumble onto your knees in front of him. You rocked back and forth impatiently as he undid his belt and fished his cock out of his jeans. As you suspected, it was massive, flushed an angry shade of red, and throbbing painfully. He gave it a tantalizing stroke, peeling back the foreskin and pulling it taut on the rebound. You licked your lips at the precum leaking from its slit, waiting for his instruction.

“Open,” He demanded once more. You acquiesced, opening your mouth wide enough for him to stuff his cock in your throat. He let out a deep, husky, growl as he slid down your airway. “Yeahhh, that’s it… That’s it, kiddo…”

Even in your dickdrunk, cockgagged haze, you could guess what was coming next. In preparation, you braced yourself with your hands on his hips, and relaxed your throat as best you could for him to fuck it. Turns out, your intuition was right.

“Fuck, yeah, fuckin’… Fuckin’ choke on it, whore… Choke on Daddy’s cock.” He grunted, grabbed your hair, and held you still while he thrusted into your mouth unforgivably. Tears, snot, and drool were running down your face in no time, and Joel was loving it. “Aw, look at that, yeah, good boy…”

You whined reflexively at the praise, accidentally sucking some spit into your windpipe and choking you in a less sexy and more dangerous manner than intended. Your eyes bulged open and you slapped his thigh twice, tapping out. Thankfully, he got the hint and let you go.

You coughed up the spit and smacked your own chest to clear your airway. “Sorry… Wrong pipe…”

“Take your time.” Joel replied, “Not try’na kill ya.”

Once you could regulate your breathing and you were sure you weren’t at risk of death by blowjob, you got back to work, at your own pace this time. You had the chance to explore him. Stroking and squeezing his shaft and his sack, fluttering your tongue underneath his tip, licking long stripes from the balls to the head. Less force, but no less intensity.

“Ngh, little faggot sure knows his way around a cock, don’t he?” Joel snickered and ruffled your hair. “So good at this, I would’a never believed you don’t got one yourself.”

True, you may not have been blessed with a cock attached to you, but you’d gotten plenty inside you. Not exactly your hometown, but familiar terrain nonetheless. When you felt like you could, you swallowed his length whole, swiping your tongue along his balls as you gagged. Joel threw his head back and moaned into the air, and then, you rode him with your throat again.

“Fu-u-uck, oh, shit, yeah… Yeah, you suck Daddy’s cock… Suck your old man’s cock for pills, and you’ll get ‘em, son... You’ll get ‘em, you fuckin’ junkie.”

You’d honestly forgotten this was about pills. You just got so caught up in the love of the sport, it had totally slipped your mind. Though dangling the carrot of oxies in front of your spit-drenched face was as good an incentive as any, and despite the burning in your windpipe, you sucked him with more power, more speed, more emotion, and more determination. You could taste victory leaking and throbbing on your tongue.

“F-Fuck… I-… I can’t…” Joel’s face was a picture of overwhelming pleasure. He had to pull you off. His wet, pulsating cock popped out of your mouth, and he huffed and puffed wiping sweat from his brow. “As much as I’d like to dump a load in your stomach…” He nudged his boot in between your legs, right up against your burning cunt. “I need to see your specialty, first.” He extended a hand to help you off your knees, then when you stood, hugged you to him and spanked each of your ass cheeks, jiggling them both as he gave his next order. “Take off your pants and bend over. Let Daddy see that pretty kitty of yours.”

You giggled, a goofy, stupid slutty smile on your face, and nodded. “Hehehe, okay… Okay…” You unbuckled your pants and let your jeans drop to the dirt. You stepped out of them and kicked them aside. You turned 90 degrees, put your hands on the brick wall, and stuck your ass out to Joel. He took his place behind you, grabbed your ass, and spread you open to take a peek at your holes. You shivered as the cool breeze ran over your dripping cunt.

“Fuck, I can’t even remember the last time I saw a cunt like this…” Two of his fingers traced your slit then spread your lips, exposing yourself even more to him. He chuckled when he saw your dick piercing. “‘Specially not one with these fancy hood ornaments.” He couldn’t resist the urge to tug on the jewelry.

Naturally, your knees buckled beneath you and you slid down the wall. “A-Ah!” You squeaked, “F-Fuck! S-Sen-Sensitive!” You tried to warn him, but really you were showing off your weak point with the conspicuousness of a video game boss fight.

“Oh, yeah?” Joel scoffed and supplemented it with a smack on the ass. You could feel him kneel down behind you, and he said, “Good.”

And then his lips were on your t-dick and sucking it like a leech.

You had to scream, bad, but it was broad fucking daylight and FEDRA could show up at any second. Instead, you bit down on your hand, sinking all the energy into your teeth as your body collapsed in on itself. Before long, your cunt was dripping down into his mouth, so much so, that there was an audible splash when his lips let you go.

“Christ, you’re a mess. Gonna ruin my fuckin jeans, ‘f I don’t take ‘em off.” Joel stood up and out of his own pants then tossed them beside yours. You heard some more rustling of clothing, felt a swipe up your pussy, then a tap on your lips with wet fingertips. “Open,” he instructed yet again.

You opened your mouth to lick and suck at his fingers, or so you thought. Instead, they pulled away and gagged you with one of your own hankies. Judging purely by the texture, you deduced that it was the trans flag. You relaxed and let him tie the gag more comfortably.

“There.” Joel said, patting you on the ass affirmatively. “Now I don’t gotta worry ‘bout you bein’ a fuckin’ screamer.” Two strong hands took your hips and lined him up with his target. You could feel his head prodding, but not breaching your hole. “Ready?”

You bit down on the gag and nodded feverishly at him. He poked your hole once, then twice, then started to push in and ohmyfuckinggodhe’shugeimeanyouknewthatalreadybutfuckitfeelsbetterthanyouthoughtitwould.

Without the ability to articulate any of those words, you whimpered through the gag and clawed at the wall like a cat trying to get in the bathroom.

“Biiig stretch, kiddo, that’s it…” Joel groaned, “That’s a good boy… Daddy’s almost in…”

Almost in? What the fuck did he mean by-ohshitthatswhatthefuckhemeantbyalmostin… He was so fucking thick that the stretch nearly burned, and long enough to feel like he was excavating your pussy to make room for himself. It was mind-numbing how big he was. He took up not only all the space in your cunt but in your brain as well. You’d never had someone dig so fucking deep.

“There you go, nice and full.” He leaned down to kiss your neck and pin your wrists together above your head. “Daddy’s perfect little cocksleeve…”

He withdrew his hips, practically taking your cunt with him on the way out since it refused to let go, and then speared his cock back into you. His thrust was a shockwave that rocked through your whole body. You let out a garbled moan into the spit-drenched fabric each time he did it. Eventually, he had a steady tempo going.

“Nghhh, so fucking tight… Real fuckin’ tight for a whore. And you’re fuckin’ soaked…” He gave your ass another swat, then stopped moving for a moment. “C’mon, slut, fuck yourself back on your Daddy’s dick. Ride your Daddy’s dick, now-yeahhh, that’s it…” He purred as you started to bounce your ass on him. For a little extra encouragement, he reached out to pet your hair. And for some guidance and a little extra oomph, he slammed his hips forward in time with yours, making his cock hit you twice as hard. “That’s a good boy…”

It was unbelievable, almost intolerable how good he felt. You almost couldn’t bear the thought of fucking any of your regular clients ever again. This was a Flowers for Algernon-type dicking, the absolute pinnacle of nasty sex for just a little while, and you’ll spend the rest of your sex life downhill from here. You’d like to hope that wouldn’t be the case, but none of the other dick you’d gotten in the past could even compare.

And it all stemmed from asking for a front on some oxies.

Joel reminded you of that when he said, “Next time you’re needing a front, I’ll-ngh… I’ll make you work for it, whore… Take you home and fuck you in the ass instead… Let you scream as loud as you need to… Let that little pussy weep for me and it’s gettin’ nothin’… You want some painkillers, then you gon’ hurt for ‘em, son…”

Honestly, the idea of a ‘next time’ had you excited regardless of what hole he wanted to bust open. If you were lucky, maybe it’d be out of mutual enjoyment rather than an exchange. Soon, he struck that special spot inside you, that inner button that has you seeing stars and screaming obscenities into the flag gag. Your hands balled into fists and pounded at the wall. It was getting to be too much to bear. Of course, with your flag in the way, your cries of Fuck! Fuck! I’m gonna come! sounded as, “Auck! Auck! Ah gah-ah cah!”

Luckily, Joel spoke fluent slut. “You’re gonna cum? Gonna cum for your daddy?” He knotted his fingers in your hair and yanked you up against his chest. He shoved you both forward until you hit brick, and without an inch of space for you to squirm, he rutted into you relentlessly. “Then do it, slut. Cum on your daddy’s cock. Daddy wants to feel his little man cum all over him.”

God, how could a sentence be so nurturing and so nasty at the same time? So sweet and yet so fucking sick? Regardless of Sigmund Freud screaming ‘I told you so’ somewhere in your head, you came buckets, splashing Joel’s thighs with pussy juice on his every thrust. Your legs gave out around the fourth or fifth gush, and Joel had to hold you up for him to finish.

“Fuck, yeah, keep coming, keep coming, baby, Daddy’s close…” Joel groaned. Every word he said grew more vile and more primal than the last. His only need was to breed. “Daddy’s gonna knock you up, son… Gonna dump some brothers and sisters into ya… ‘N’ you’re gonna fuckin’ take it… Ngh, gonna take my fuckin’ load in ya ‘cause you’re a little cumdump pussyboy whore… ‘S what you’re meant for-shit… Shit!”

He squeezed your body tight and growled into your ear. Hot spurts of his cum flooded your battered cunt. On any other occasion, you’d cringe at some rando calling his load your siblings, but it just felt so good. You couldn’t give less of a fuck what he called it. And it’s not like he was your actual father. He was committing to the bit, a bit that had you mewing and sobbing with pleasure and repressed emotion, but that was a problem for your therapist later.

The world went still as you both came down from orbit. The rest of the QZ didn’t exist in that moment. It was just you and your “daddy”, a man twice your age that you trade drugs with and who just busted a nut in you. Honestly, still a better father figure than most. Closest thing to a dad you had for damn sure.

You felt that paternal vibe from him as he kissed the side of your neck. “You okay, little guy?” Joel asked tenderly. He untied the gag and tossed the flag by your jeans, letting you answer him.

“Mm… Mhm… I’m okay…” You stuttered, still counting on his grip to keep you standing.

“Good boy.” A few quick pecks to your neck and he slipped out, a few drops of his kids pooling in the dirt below you. “Now get dressed. I got shit to do.” He demanded with a final slap on your ass.

You stumbled over to your pants, leaning onto the wall to guide yourself. Even after dressing himself, Joel got to them first, and held them out for you to step into.

“Yeah, there you go, kid. You’re okay.” He cooed, and then clapped you on the shoulders to get your attention. Your head snapped up to see him reach into his pocket and pull out a plastic bag wrapped in tinfoil. He fished out two white pills and gave them to you, just as you agreed to.

“Thanks. I really appreciate it,” You gave him a shy smile, feeling grateful for the front and the frenzied faux-father-son fucking he just bestowed upon you. “Oh, and, uh… I… I had a good time, s-so if you ever wanna-“

“I’ll see you Monday, kid.”

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Then & Now (M, cold)

Hiii, hope you like A LOT of hurt followed by 2-3 sentences of comfort lmao. This is Greyson fic - Grey is sick on a day he and Reed are supposed to have a date, and he's sure Reed is going to be angry with him because Trauma(TM). It's told in a flashback sort of format which I really enjoyed because I love writing blurbs of colds at different times in life lol. I hope you guys like it, please let me know what ya think, good, bad, or otherwise :)

CW: Male snz, cold, pneumonia mention, coughing, contagion mention, lots and lots of whump lmao. A little over 4K words under the cut.

Then & Now

Now

“Morning, Chef.”

“Huh-! HhITSZHH-ue!”

Elijah turned towards Greyson, who was doubled over into his hoodie sleeve, and gave him a sympathetic grimace. “Cooks finally pulled you under, hmm?”

“Ugh, like way fuckin’ under,” Greyson muttered, rubbing his eye and sucking in through his nose. “I feel like ass.”

“Sorry, dude,” Elijah said, tossing his counterpart a box of tissues. “Sucks.”

Greyson caught the box and pulled out a few just in time. “HITSZHZH-uhh!” This one, he managed to catch in the handful of tissues. He wiped his nose and shrugged. “Yeah,” he said, tossing the used tissues. “Mbostly because I was supposed to have a date tonight.”

Elijah smirked at his friend, who was pushing past the GM into their shared office. The two of them sat in unison. “Do you guys still call them dates? You’ve been official for, like, six months.”

“It’s our six-month anniversary,” Greyson said, his voice flattened by congestion. “We were going to do EMP.”

“Awww, now I’m depressed,” Elijah said. “Also, why didn’t you tell me earlier you were going to Eleven Madison? I still know people there.”

“So does Reed,” Greyson said, massaging his temple. “That’s why we were goigg. Fuck, mby fuckin’ head is pounding. Do we have any -?”

Elijah placed the ibuprofen in front of the chef before he could ask, along with a bottle of cough syrup and a decongestant. “You know we have it all,” he said, pushing an old cup of water across the desk for Greyson to swallow his arsenal of pills. “And fair enough. Well that fuckin’ sucks, dude, I’m sorry. Hey, at least you can leave early, right? Matt’s closing?”

“Yeah,” Greyson said, unwrapping a cough drop and popping it in his mouth. “I’ll head out once the rush is over. I still have to text Reee – hh...hhNTSHH-ue! HGTSHH-uhh!” Greyson doubled over, sneezed into his arm, and groaned. “I’mb gonna kill the guys when they get in,” he said, mostly to himself.

“Don’t do that,” Elijah said, placing a hand on Greyson’s shoulder on his way out of the office. “Then you’ll have to stay all night.”

Greyson huffed out a laugh and pulled out his phone. He clicked on his conversation with Reed, sighing. He did not want to have this conversation.

Greyson

9:31AM

hey babe. gonna have to cancel tonight, the cooks infected me w their plague :( im rly sorry.

The chef set his phone on the desk, prepared to either be ghosted or gaslit – two of Collin’s favorite pastimes whenever Greyson had had to cancel their plans during their relationship – and was shocked when the phone buzzed with a text almost immediately. He was almost afraid to look at his boyfriend’s response.

Reed

9:32AM

Oh, baby don’t be sorry!! what time are you off? I’ll pick you up and take you home :) we can do a sick day little date night instead!

Greyson stared at the phone, stunned. He couldn’t help it; he read the message again, then out loud said, “What the fuck?”

Then – Ten Years Ago

“Chef?”

The Executive Chef looked up from his paperwork at Greyson and sighed. “What is it, Abbott?”

“I, um – hh! HTSHH-uh! HGXTSH-ue! Snf. Umb, I just wanted to see if it was okay if I… left a little early today?” Greyson asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His chef raised his eyebrows and put his clipboard down. Oh, no, Greyson thought.

“Leave...early? And leave your clean up and prep to whom, exactly? Me?” The Executive Chef huffed out a laugh. “That’s rich, Abbott. Why the fuck would you need to leave early?”

“I…” Greyson started, but his voice gave out on the single syllable. He attempted to clear his throat. “I just… I really feel like shit? I was hoping I could, like… sleep it off, I guess. I mbean, I wouldn’t want to get anyone else sigck.” Greyson felt a cough bubbling to the surface; he tried to quell it, to no avail. The younger man collapsed into a coughing fit that felt like it lasted a lifetime.

The Chef remained unmoved. “My guys,” he said, placing a hand on his chest as Greyson attempted to compose himself, “don’t get sick, Abbott. And if they do, I don’t fucking hear about it. Understand? Because I really don’t give a shit. If you’re here, you’re here. If you decide to leave early,” he shrugged, uncaring, “then you leave for good. And Abbott, if you try to get a job after walking out of my kitchen, I promise you I will make it impossible. I know you’ve only been here a couple months, but here’s what you need to learn: put your head down and do your fucking job, and you can work anywhere in the world after this. Be a whiny piece of shit who tries to walk out on his shift, and you’ll be working at McDonald’s for the rest of you life. Got it?”

Greyson, too shocked to rebut, just bobbed his head up and down.

“Let me hear you say it,” the Chef said. Greyson cleared his throat.

“Yes, Chef,” he said. The Chef nodded.

“Now get the fuck out of my office.”

Now

“Elijah. Look at this text.”

The GM looked up slowly from the iPad where he was going over reservations for the evening. “...Why?” he asked, taking the phone from Greyson’s hand.

“Just look. Tell mbe that’s ndot weird,” Greyson said, crossing his arms over his chest. Elijah looked down, confused, and read the text. He pinched his eyebrows together just a little, and read it again. “See? Isn’t that weird?”

“Greyson…” Elijah said, handing the phone back. “That’s not weird.”

“Seriously?” Greyson asked, reading the text yet again. “It’s bizarre. He’s ndot even a little mad? C’mon. That’s weird.”

“He’s being sweet,” Elijah explained, slowly, as though he were talking to a toddler. “Did you want him to be mad? Because that’s bizarre.”

“Ndo I don’t want him to be mad. I jus – HTSZHH-ue! HRRSHH!” Greyson wrenched to the side to sneeze, which sent him into a fit of hacking coughs. “I just figured he’d want to, like, yell at mbe or something. For canceling,” Greyson finished, his voice strained against another cough. Elijah didn’t respond, not at first, and instead pressed a hand onto the chef’s forehead.

“I think you’re sicker than we thought, because you’re acting fucking delusional,” he said as Greyson slapped his hand away. “Greyson, normal people don’t yell at each other for getting sick, or having to cancel a plan. That’s, like, really twisted.”

Greyson rolled his eyes. “It’s ndot twisted, Lij you fuckin’ drama queen,” he said, then held up a finger. “Onesec – hh! Hh...hnn.” Greyson sniffled, a let out a little irritated cough. “Lost it.”

“Go back to the kitchen,” Elijah said, pointing towards the swinging doors. “Sit down. Rest. Let your medicine kick in. I don’t want people seeing this -” he gestured to Greyson, as if to allude to his entire being – “when they walk past the restaurant. Alright? Text your boyfriend something nice. Not something unhinged.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Greyson muttered, turning toward the kitchen, his phone still open to the conversation with Reed. He turned towards Elijah again before pushing through the kitchen doors. “I still say that this is the unhinged thing.”

“Go to therapy, Greyson,” Elijah said, not looking up from the iPad. Greyson rolled his eyes, pushed into the kitchen, and regarded his phone once again.

Greyson

10:07AM

thanks, babe. it’s ok, I can take care of myself. it wont be a long day, ill just grab some nyquil omw home and sleep it off. ill reschedule our rezo too, don’t worry about that. im really sorry again for canceling. if I could taste the food id still go lol.

Figuring that sounded at least relatively normal, Greyson hit send. He sat down at his desk once again and placed his head in his hands. No way he’s not pissed, Greyson thought, and he really believed it. In all his years of dating, he’d never met anyone who would respond that way; they’d at least have a snippy remark about the last-minute nature of the cancellation.

Greyson’s phone pinged once again, and he couldn’t help but grab it right away to assess the damage.

Reed

10:08AM

honey, please don’t apologize, seriously. youre sick, it happens, its no biggie :) I already moved the reservation to next week but if we need to ill move it again. james at emp said to tell you feel better btw.

Greyson blinked, dumbstruck. He started typing without thinking.

Greyson

10:10AM

you REALLY arent mad? seriously?

Reed

10:10AM

im really not mad. who gets mad at someone for being sick…? is someone at work mad at you? am I supposed to be mad..? lol

Greyson

10:11AM

I mean its a last minute cancellation. id understand if u were mad.

Reed

10:11AM

welllll….im not. is that ok? haha

Reed

10:15AM

grey…? you believe me, right?

Reed

10:21AM

greyson..?

Then – Seven Years Ago

He was moving through molasses.

Greyson placed a sluggish hand to his own forehead – you can’t check yourself for a fever, dumbass – and blinked painfully. He’d made it to work, he’d made it through the day, and he’d made it back home, against all odds. Now, he was stuck on his couch, unable to even crawl to the bathroom for a thermometer.

It had all compounded on him, was his guess. The endless fourteen hour days for the better part of two years at his thankless sous chef job. The shitty Chicago-suburbs apartment with no heat, where he froze for the few hours a week he slept. The near-constant drinking. Sure, he was only twenty-five, but what was it they said about this industry? It ages you in dog years. Yeah, that was it.

“Hh-! Hh...ITSZHH-ue! HTSHHH-ue!” Greyson sneezed helplessly into the blanket he’d wrapped around himself, and groaned. This was not what he’d imagined when he moved here from Minnesota. He’d thought it would be glamorous, working as a sous chef at a high-end hotel in a big city. He thought he’d have friends, or a girlfriend, or something. Instead, he was trapped on his couch, benched by a sinus infection and seasonal depression that seemed to last the whole year round. Fuck this, Greyson thought. He couldn’t get off the couch, but he could reach his phone; Greyson pulled up Indeed and changed his search parameters.

Actively searching for work. Location: Any.

Now

“Um… Chef? What’s, uh… what’s going on?”

Greyson paused for a moment, a crate of spoiled food held on his shoulder. He turned towards Matt, keen to answer, but instead held the crate tighter and wrenched to the side. “HRTTSHH-uh!”

“Bless you,” Matt said, an automatic reaction. Greyson nodded, turned towards the dumpster, and dumped the food in before beginning the cycle anew: pick up crate. Turn to sneeze. Dump old food. Matt wasn’t sure if he should help his boss, or go inside for backup.

He chose the former, picking a crate filled to the brim with rotten tomatoes off the ground and hoisting it into the trash. “You gonna tell me what’s up?” he asked as the two of them continued gathering and tossing.

Greyson sighed, pulled a hand down his face, and shook his head. “I thingk Reed and I are over,” he said, voice soft and throaty. Matt’s eyebrows shot up.

“What? Seriously? What did you do?” Matt asked, prompting a stuffy laugh from his boss.

“I just don’t thingk it’s going to work,” Greyson said, shrugging. “I… I don’t want to, like, play gambes. I can’t do that again, ndot after Collin.”

“Chef,” Matt said as he gathered and tossed the last milk crate, “what are you talking about? Reed is, like, the most straight-shooting guy I’ve ever met. How is he playing games?”

Greyson, left without anything to occupy his hands, just shrugged and pulled out his phone. He handed it to Matt without explanation, and the sous quickly read through the text conversation Greyson and Reed had going. Matt furrowed his brow.

“I don’t get it,” he said, handing the phone back. “He wants to take care of you, what’s the problem with that?”

“He doesn’t want to take care of me, he wants to have the upper hand,” Greyson explained, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and sitting on the step just outside the back door. “Want one?”

“Sure,” Matt said, sitting beside his boss. “I mean, you shouldn’t be smoking if you’re -”

“HTSHH! Hh-! ITZSHH-ue!” Greyson turned into his elbow, taking a long moment to gather himself before handing Matt his cigarette.

“-sick,” Matt finished. The older man shrugged, and Matt plucked the lighter out of Greyson’s hand to light both of them up, not daring to push his boss any closer to the edge. For a moment, they smoked in silence, only Greyson’s sniffles and coughs interrupting the quiet.

“Boss,” Matt said, finally, “I think you need to talk to Reed.”

“I did,” Greyson said, stubbing out his cigarette. “You saw.”

“No, I mean actually talk to him,” Matt said. The two of them stood, looking at each other – a face-off without the malice. Matt continued. “Not ignore his texts and clean out the walk-in.”

Greyson scoffed. “Matt, just because you have sombe fairy-tale love story doesn’t mbean everyone else does, too. Okay? If it’s over between me and Reed, it’s fine. I’mb better off alone, anywaa – hh! Hh… Hhhii-!” Greyson stood with his elbow poised at his face, stuck in pre-sneeze agony for what seemed like an eternity. While he was incapacitated, Matt took his phone and typed out a message that his boss couldn’t see. Finally, Greyson lowered his arm and sucked in, fruitlessly, through his nose. “The fugck are you doigg?” he asked, snatching his phone back from his sous.

“If you’re not going to talk to Reed,” Matt shrugged, unapologetic, “I will.”

Greyson looked down at his phone, which buzzed twice in his hand. Reed’s face popped up on the screen. Call from: reed <3

Then – Three Years Ago

“HTSHH! Huh! ETZSHH-ue! HRTTSHH-ue!”

“Bless, bless, bless you. Allergies?” Collin asked, not looking up from his phone. Greyson sniffled in vain, and coughed painfully.

“Ndot exactly,” he croaked from the doorway to Collin’s living room. “Baby, do you thingk you could drive mbe to urdent care, actually?”

Collin looked up and slowly raised an eyebrow. “For what?” he asked, obviously annoyed. Greyson swallowed as best he could and placed a hand on his throat.

“I thingk… I mbight have strep. Or bronchitis, or sombething. I, uh… I’ve had a fever for like. A week.” Greyson had to stop to close his eyes and grab onto the door frame, a sordid attempt to keep from hitting the floor like a rotten sack of potatoes. Collin rolled his eyes.

“You’re such a drama queen. You seemed fine when you came over last night.”

“You were asleep whend I came over,” Greyson said, his eyes still closed. “Did you ndot notice that I haven’t been over in like five days?”

Collin shrugged. “I mean, yeah, but I figured you were busy with work. You’re always busy with work,” he said, the venom in his voice making clear that he wanted to fight.

Greyson, physically incapable of fighting at that moment, just slid slowly to the ground and nodded. “Yeah. You’re right,” he said. “Ndow I’m paying the price. Please, baby. Can you please just take me? I… I really don’t feel well.”

It was pathetic. He knew it, but he couldn’t stop himself; he was fairly sure he was moments from passing out. Collin turned and made himself comfier on the couch.

“I’ll call you an uber,” he said, pressing some buttons on his phone. “You barely make time for me, and now you’re asking me to be your chauffeur? Please, Greyson.” He showed his ailing boyfriend the phone. “He’ll be out front in five minutes. Better make your way down.”

“Okay,” Greyson said, pulling himself slowly to his feet. “Thangk you.”

Collin didn’t say a word as Greyson let himself out of the apartment. He made it downstairs, and into the uber, and into the waiting room at urgent care. He made it out by himself, too, with a laundry list of prognoses – strep, sinus infection, walking pneumonia – and a handful of prescriptions. When he texted Collin later to fill him in, his boyfriend didn’t text back.

Greyson fell asleep on his shower floor and awoke to freezing water pounding on him, and a courier pounding on his door. When he toweled off and answered it, chicken soup from the local bodega and a note that read feel better -c sat at his feet. Greyson breathed a sigh of relief; at least he had been forgiven.

Now

Reed had dated plenty of men is his thirty-five years of life, and had found that there were two general categories when it came to sick men: there was the Baby, and there was the Don’t Look at Me.

Greyson though, an enigma since the moment they met, seemed to fall into a third category, a category that was, to Reed, yet undiscovered: the You Hate Me.

Reed was good with the first two categories; the Don’t Look at Me, you left medicine outside their room and texted them funny memes. The Baby, you laid in bed with them and spoon-fed them soup. Easy. Understandable. Truthfully, this was one of his favorite things about men: they were easy to crack. He figured Greyson would likely fall into the Baby category, which was fine by him – there was nothing he’d like more than to look after an ailing Greyson, to be honest. This third category he seemed to embody, though, was not something Reed knew what to do with.

“He didn’t answer when I called him,” Reed said into the phone receiver. “I just want to know what’s going on, I mean, did I say something wrong?”

On the other end of the line, Elijah sighed. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. This is just… it’s just Greyson being Greyson.”

Reed wasn’t about to take this lying down. “Hey, are you guys super busy tonight? I mean, I don’t want to be that boyfriend, but, like, can I come get him? We really need to talk, and if what Matt said is true he probably shouldn’t be, like, working anyway, right?”

While Elijah paused, Reed pulled the phone away from his ear and once again re-read the text Matt had sent from Greyson’s phone: hey reed, it’s matt. grey is sick as hell, so DO NOT take any of the crazy weird shit he says seriously, k? his temperature needs to lower by like 5 degrees before you do this, but u guys need to actually talk. he’s being stupid.

“Please,” Reed heard Elijah’s tinny voice on the other end and put the phone back to his ear. “Please, come and collect him. I’m begging.”

Reed stood from the couch and grabbed his keys. “Give me twenty minutes. I’m on my way.”

Then – Two Years Ago

“Heyyy, baby, cand I buy you a dringk?”

The girl leaned back, her face marked by disgust. “No, thanks. Save your money and get yourself some NyQuil,” she said, disappearing into the crowd. Greyson huffed out a sigh and coughed into his hand – a long, crackling sound that made the other bar patrons inch their chairs away.

“She’s right, you know,” the bartender – Skip, Greyson had learned his name was a few weeks back when he had started coming in every night – said, filling Greyson’s shot glass yet again. “You need to go home.”

“And yet you pour mbe another drink,” Greyson said, knocking back the shot. “The duality of mban. NGTXSH! HTSHH! Huh-! HRRSHH-ue!” Greyson covered his mouth lazily with one hand, wiped it on his pants, hand held the glass up to indicate ‘another’.

“Bless you,” Skip said, not pouring the shot. “Greyson, seriously: go home. You sound fucking awful.”

“Are you cutting mbe off?” Greyson asked, his rheumy eyes meeting Skip’s over the bartop. “Because unless you are, I’mb staying.” He coughed again, into his elbow; the cough was quickly becoming a problem. He’d had a cold two weeks ago; the symptoms had been mild, but the cough had hung around. When he caught whatever-the-fuck this was two days ago, the cough had turned from an annoyance to a pressing issue; he should go home. He should go to the doctor, he should take a day off, he should, he should, he should.

But he wouldn’t. He would stay, and he would drink until he was kicked out, then he’d pass out on the train and not make it home to sleep. He’d go to work at seven AM and stay until midnight and do it all again.

“I’m not kicking you out,” Skip sighed. “I’m just saying… you should take care of yourself.”

Greyson blinked slowly. He could feel his lungs, heavy with fluid, gearing up to cough again; his head, pounding in spite or because of the alcohol; his heart crushed into a million, Collin-sized pieces. Take care of yourself. It felt impossible, when you’d never been shown how.

“This is mbe taking care of myself,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’ll have another.”

Now

Greyson rested his head on a case of lettuce in the corner of the walk-in. He knew he should be continuing his madness of cleaning, but he’d accidentally sat down on his fifth trip into the refrigerator, and now he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get up again.

Fucking Reed, Greyson thought as he allowed the cold salad box to sate the fever he had burning in his brain. Why can’t he just be up front with me? If you’re mad just say it, don’t fucking torture me.

Perhaps deep down, he knew he was being ridiculous; Matt and Elijah were most likely correct. The simplest answer – that Reed truly was just a good guy – was probably the right one. But he just couldn’t get out of his mind all the times he’d reached out, needed help and asked for it, and been shot down. He certainly couldn’t allow himself to believe that the person he was dating was truly good; he knew he’d never deserve that.

“Greyson?”

Speaking of Reed, that sounded a lot like him – was Greyson hearing things? Had he, in his fever-addled state, conjured a hallucination of his boyfriend to have a fight with? Bizarre, Grey, he thought to himself. That’s really fucking bizarre.

“Grey? Elijah said you were in here but I don’t – oh!”

Either this was a really crazy hallucination, or that really was Reed standing over him, in the walk-in. Greyson blinked hard, then blinked again, and suddenly Reed was on the ground next to him.

“Babe...it’s really cold in here. Do you think we can, um, leave?”

Greyson furrowed his eyebrows together. “Leave… and go where?” he asked, his voice cracking. “I have to… work. What are you doigg heeee...HRTSHH-ue! Huh -! HTSHH! NTSHH! IGXTSH!” Greyson attempted to stifle over and over, until Reed gently took his hand and pulled it away from his face.

“That has to hurt,” Reed said, his voice quiet and calm. “You can just… sneeze, you know. Like, regular.”

“Tryigg ndot to get you,” Greyson croaked, his eyes glazing over once again. “Youbettermov – HRRETSZCHH-ue! ITSZZHH-ue! Fuck – NGTSHHZ-ue!” Greyson sneezed into his lap, then coughed until his lungs felt sore. Reed didn’t move; he came closer and rubbed Greyson’s back.

“Bless you, baby,” Reed said, eventually.

“Thangks. Sorry,” Greyson murmured, pushing his hair out of his face and turning to look at Reed. “Why are you here?” he asked, levity out the window.

Reed let out a little laugh. “Umm, why do you think?” he asked. “You’ve been ignoring me since this morning. I got worried, since Matt said you were super sick – no lie detected, by the way, you sound truly awful –”

“Sorry,” Greyson said again, wiping under his nose. “I kndow, it’s gross.”

“Please, Grey,” Reed said, taking both sides of his boyfriend’s face in his hands and looking him in the eye. “Please. Stop apologizing. It’s okay to be sick. I don’t understand why you think I’m angry at you. I’m not.”

Greyson swallowed, painfully, and gave a little nod. “Okay,” he said, finally.

“Okay,” Reed repeated. “Anyway. I called Elijah. He said to come and collect you.”

At this, Greyson couldn’t help but cough out a laugh. “Collect mbe?” he asked. Reed smiled a little.

“Yeah,” he said. “His words, not mine.”

They both laughed, softly at first, then ramping up to near-hysteria. They only stopped when Greyson started coughing again and couldn’t seem to stop.

“Let’s go get you some water,” Reed said, helping his boyfriend to his shaky feet. Greyson allowed himself to be pulled out of the walk-in, and given a bottle of water that was sitting on his prep station. Greyson drank until the fit subsided, then regarded Reed once again.

“So… you really aren’t mbad?” he asked, rubbing his goosebumped arms up and down. Reed shook his head and shrugged off his windbreaker. He draped it over Greyson’s shoulders.

“I’m really not mad,” he insisted. Greyson nodded, seemingly satiated. Reed sighed through his nose and slipped his arms around the chef.

“Life’s done a number on you, huh?” he asked, quietly enough that it could’ve just been to himself. Greyson huffed out a sad little laugh.

“Like you wouldn’t believe, baby,” he murmured, pressing his hot head into Reed’s hair. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

[ijumpbridges]

Do a headcanon of scp 076, scp 049, scp 2396, doctor cleff, doctor iceberg, doctor kondrank, doctor glass on the first date.

First Date!

Ft. Scp 049, Scp 076, Scp 2396, Dr. Clef, Dr. Kondraki, Dr. Glass, Dr. Iceberg.

____ scp 049

Its impressive that you got him out of his lab to go on a date with you.

You were probably the one who suggested and it and he agree to it and decide to plan a picnic and restaurant theme inside his cell

Yall eating ok the floor but the 049-2 dress up as waiters.

Used 049-2 as the ones who would bring food or help around to make the setting for comfortable.

When you came in bringing the food he had the wine cups outside and bottles of stolen wine and the carpet and blankets on the floor.

The dinner was nice, you brought white spaghettini and he complimented it.

He gave you a lots of compliments.

He talked about the pestilence.

And you excuse yourself many times just to cough or sneeze cuz you don’t want to trigger him.

It was annoying, but overall the date was great, but you were removed from his cell.

scp 076

Blink twice you need help.

You date consist on doing physical work so im going to put maybe doing a sport together or taking care of animals in the foundations shelters.

If you chose to do a sport with him, be very careful, since its you are not strong enough to beat him.

It doesn’t matter if he says he will try to go ‘soft’ on you, he will throw you across the room.

If you chose to take care of the animals it would a nice heartwarming moment together, bounding with animals and you helps him a lot.

He was able to wash then and get them ready up to the standards.

You both also played with them afterwards in the artificial park and dog training section.

Throwing balls and training them.

You both would challenge each other, until it went wrong.

You ended up with a broken arm because of him.

When you told your friends they about it laughed at you, but at least 076 defended you to an extend until you told him not to and that it was fine since they were your friends unless it was someone from your outside group.

scp 2396

I think a movie night or a breach contaimenht to a theme park.

You cant chose cuz both thinks happen.

She invited you to watch a movie with her and you agree to it.

When you got to her containment chamber thinking you were going to watch the movie there, she tells you to wait out.

By ‘outside’ you though she meant outside of her chamber not the foundation.

She breach containment and actually made it out and when you heard this you went after her.

Afterwards you went to watch the movie, it was Barbie, she cry and while crying you two had to leave because the foundation had found you.

Luckily it was night and the theme park was close and since you both escape through the back door and no one saw you went to the theme park to calm her down.

You two when to the wheel fortune and got to the top and it felt relaxing and you even got a small conversation before a light from a helicopter showed up pointing at both of you.

A whole MTF squad showed up and took you both from the top.

They made you both climb up to the helicopter and went back tot he foundation.

Dr. Clef

Blink twice if you need help.

It was suppose to be a restaurant date night, but all went side ways and shit the fan and you are on the run with him.

The dinner date was not going great, the guy was being weird.

You kept your cool even with his weird comments.

Then a breach containment happen, this was a perfect time, since you could ditch the date.

But no, you see Clef told you he was going to take you to somewhere safe.

And you follow him, he took out his gun and then it was too late for you to make any decisions.

This man, brought you to the anomaly and not only that he started to provoke it.

So, now you that you are in danger you had to put your nerves aside and get your flight or fight reflex if you want to make it out alive.

He did a good job on containing that anomaly and he even protected you and hand you a gun to kill off any remaining of the anomaly.

Then you both got something to drink and part ways since its been a long night, afterwards you realize that he wasn’t so bad.

Dr. Kondraki

He took you to take picture with 408.

They were adorable and really friendly towards you.

They even surrounded you.

And he took a pic of that since he thought it looked cute, but he will never admit that.

He will take you around and bring you to the bar.

While you two talked he tried to control himself on the drinking.

But how could he if you were also tipsy too?

At the end of the date both of you only got tipsy not drunk, but a little which it was great for him.

You two mostly talked about anything and everything that wasn’t work related, he showed his works on photography and you showed him your hobbies and the things you achieve from it.

He dropped you off and then he went home.

It was a great night, you two really bonded, might as well get another date too.

Dr. Glass

He asks you out and you agree to a dinner night.

You two went actually out of the foundation to get dinner and wine together.

Being away from the foundation was actually nice and you two had a nice moment.

Until one of his client shows up at the dinner.

Like out of nowhere and uninvited saying he was looking for him cuz something fucked just happen to them.

And not only that just like a hardworking ants more two more came behind him. One was an Scp the other was a mtf chasing after it.

Then more people started to come in asking for your help, you and Simon looked at each other and sight in sync.

The date had to be cancel and reschedule, but you both got the left overs of your dinner and bought some wine.

Then you meet up at his place and set up a theme and mood for a dinner and had fun again talking.

The night went great with him.

Dr. Iceberg

Remember to blink twice if you need help.

And take pepper spray you will need it.

You either grab coffee in the morning or grab a drink at the end of your shift.

It was with mix feelings.

The guy will show some of his red flags.

Talking about the foundation and how they wont give him a promotion.

Ngl, it was a good vibe at first but then the guy was full of himself and probably made you uncomfortable.

You tried listening and giving him advice and everything and he took them to heart.

He tried touching you and you might have flinch med a little with how clod they were.

So, you tried to make room for you to talk about and he might have criticized some of the stuff that you say.

The end of the date the whole thing was on thin ice so it depends if you both reach out for another date.

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Seldom Self-care Sickness

Prompt: Hopelessly Bad at Self-Care

Pairings: Wandanat x R

Word count: 1.4K

Summary: you were pretty bad at looking after yourself when It came to getting work done. So much so you made yourself sick. But your girls love you all the same.

TW: fever, Flu, non-sexual nudity, implied sexual joke (just one), slight angst, traumatic past (mentioned)

A/N i feel like all my fics are kinda the same thing… im considering opening up requests once i figure out how to…

“honey your going to get sick if you don’t take breaks. love your working yourself into the ground.” Wanda cooed. you brushed the hair from your eyes and went back to work, huffing slightly.

“your probably worse than nat, my love, take a break and we can cuddle.” Wanda tried again.

nat huffed “shes defiantly worse than me at least i take breaks every once in a while.” Wanda shot nat a glare and she went back to typing out her mission report.

you knew they were right, you hadn’t slept or eaten or even stopped to pee lately. work was all you could think about. with the last mission you went on failing you felt the need to prove yourself. after hydra you had always had issues with self worth and work ethic. mainly you didn’t feel you had any. your worked yourself to the bone until your girls picked up the pieces, which they didn’t mind, after all they loved you. you had grown up on the ideology that in order to be valuable and loved you had to earn your keep. of course even a whole year after your rescue the things they taught you were hard to shake off.

“‘m fine wands i need to get this done anyway.” you sighed when she began massaging your shoulders feeling the pent up stress you held in your neck and back. you let your eyes drift shut for a second revealing in the idea of a break before they snapped open and you went back to work. Wanda sighed heavily and retreated back to the bedc to snuggle into nat. every once in a while she shot you a sad look but you huffed and continued writing out the reports.

“baby i brought you some water for a reason. you may want to work but you do need to drink.” Wanda cooed, and you placed down the pen with a bang, emptying the glass while holding Wanda’s eyes the whole time. you wiped you hand over the back of your mouth, replaced the glass on the table and picked up the pen again. Wanda sighed knowing you had at least had some water now which she supposed was better than nothing at all.

she had just began to doze off against Nat’s thigh when a sneeze startled her awake. you grinned sheepishly and waved a hand.

“Pollen count.” you said dismissively and Wanda shot a pointed look at the closed window.

“baby-“

“I need to work.” you cut her off.

“what you really need is to rest.” nat said without looking up from her own report.

“why don’t you harass Natasha for a bit Wanda.” you huffed the room feeling uncomfortably warm.

“because i know when to stop, unlike you.” nat shot back without any malice.

Wanda sighed and began to lazily trace patterns on Nat’s thigh which shivered under her touch. slowly she began to fall asleep again. only to, once again be woken by a sneeze. followed by another three. when you had stopped Wanda raised an eyebrow. she stood up wand walked over to your desk. hands on her hips. “right thats enough, come to bed or i’ll make you, your going to get sick one way or the other now and i don’t need you to be writing nonsense with a high fever.” upon closer look she saw the slight shaking you body was doing, open betrayal.

“right.” Wanda said sounding frustrated at your lack of response. swiftly she laid the back of her palm on your forehead before you could react she tutted.

you moaned at the feeling of cool skin against your fevered face, which felt like a fire was brewing. under your skin.

Wanda’s eyes went wide “baby.” she scolded “you have a fever, no wonder you don’t feel good.” she sighed using her hand to draw the sweaty hair from your face. her fingers tangling in the knots.

nat appeared by her side. she put one hand under your knees and another on your back as she scooped you up bridal style. she was concerned at your lack of protests as she did so and shot Wanda a worried look that was quickly returned. how had you gotten sick so fast? carefully Natasha deposited you on the bed and Wanda went to find a thermometer.

Nat brushed the hair from your face and your eyes fluttered shut in content.

“honey, you need to look after yourself better” she cooed her fingers carding your hair backwards.

“alright.” Wanda said reappearing with a small thermometer. “open” she said tapping a finger on your jaw. you glared but complied.

“good girl.” Wanda said using a finger to close your still open mouth after she slipped it under your tongue.

Wanda hummed and rummaged through the cupboards to find some medicine. “just in case your fevers high we might give you some medicine or even a shower.” your eyes lit up making her chuckle

“not that kind of shower my sweet. save that for when your better.” she winked. you slumped against Nat’s shoulder.

“aww your too cute when you pout baby.” she cooed. the thermometer beeped and she carefully took it out when you faced her. holding it away from you and Nat she read off the number.

“102.7” she said frowning at it. “baby thats too high.” she sighed.

“love you go start the shower and i’ll bring her in when your ready.” nat said as if you weren’t there. which in some ways you weren’t, your eyes had taken a glossy effect as you stared into space. but at the word shower you began squirming in Nat’s lap.

“shh shhh shhh” she cooed in your ear. “it’ll be ok, Wanda and I will be with you the whole time.” you knew from past experience how much a fever shower sucked and were under no compulsion to have another. nat scooped you up as Wanda called from the bathroom, the sound of running water coming through the door. you stopped wriggling in Nat’s arms and succumbed to your torture. going limo as nat shot you a sad look as if she felt sorry for you and you began pouting again.

“shh bubs its alright”

carefully she peel off your sweat soaked clothes and passed your shaking form to Wanda who set your feel down and pulled you flush to her front.

“aww its ok my sweet.” she cooed, running her hands through your wet hair. after a few minutes the shaking was less and Wanda was satisfied you weren’t as warm anymore, they helped you out of the shower. you were still clinging to Wanda while Nat dried you off with a fluffy towel. she helped you step into a pair of fluffy pj pants and into one of Wanda’s shirts. after you were dressed Nat carried you back to the bed so Wanda could get dressed herself.

carefully she set you down and pulled the thermometer out of the draw where Wanda had stashed it earlier.

“open up bubs.” she cooed and you did so with sad eyes.

you were nestled in a mountain of pillows when Wanda remerged and you made grabby hands for her. nat was laid by one side and Wanda by the other, you placed your cheek on her thigh and after a second your eyes drifted shut.

the beep surprised you and you felt Wanda’s fingers remove the stick from your mouth. she looked down at it and sighed.

“101.2 better but still not good.” Wanda looked at Nat who gestured to you, who was half asleep and struggling to keep your eyes open against Wanda’s thigh. you would close them before opening them suddenly only to blink for a few seconds before they slide shut again.

“go to sleep my love. we’ll be here. we’ll keep you safe.” Wanda cooed as Nat ran her hands through your damp hair.

the feeling of her fingers on your scalp drew you to sleep and soon the girls smiled at the soft snores they could hear coming from their tired and sick girlfriend.

MASTERLIST