#don’t let it get moldy

[darkcozyforest]

🦋Friendly reminder to wash out the water bottle you use to keep yourself beautifully hydrated!🦋

🦋While you’re at it make sure you’re drinking enough water!🦋

🦋Self care is important. You’re important! Take care of yourself! 🦋

[valewritessss]

Recently I’ve developed more of a “this is something I usually overthink about but right now we’re going to do it anyway because I refuse to live my life in fear” mentality and I’m kind of loving it

[zvdvdlvr]

to the heart

cred: @/cafekitsune

Being John’s wifewho is a badass cook and finally meets the team!!

     Your mother always said that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Being married to the one and only John Price could only further confirm her statement.

     John was a military captain- forming, training, and leading men and women into missions that could very well take their lives. As well as gain muscle and a family, military folk also gained an iron stomach. At least in John’s case.

     The way he casually scooped up half the lasgma in the big pan made you wonder how he had survived off of packaged meals. John just shoveled down mouthful by mouthful as you eargerly awaited his reaction. Making something John wouldn’t like is borderline impossible, but you wanted to make only the best for the man that protected you and your loved ones in ways you couldn’t even imagine.

     When John finally asked you if you’d be open to meeting the men he unofficially adopted, you were immediately filled with a mix of excitement and anxiety. Your husband had refrained from the gory details of the missions he preformed but entertained you with stories of his team goofing off or doing something impressive (John was more proud of those men then he let on and you could tell). He had told you that the way he had described your cooking had the men salivating.

     You had decided to make a classic meal on the evening they were to dine with you. A simple but tasty spaghetti and meatballs dish. For the side- recipe you’d seen from Instagram- you cooked up a dozen fluffy pull-apart garlic/cheese/butter muffins (all dishes were John approved, of course, he’s eaten everything you’ve made). You debated a salad, but figured you’d just offer instead of set out a bowl in case they didn’t want any lettuce or anything.

     John pulled you out of the kitchen when he heard the sound of an engine come closer to your secluded country-side home. “They already love you with the way I talk about you, love. Don’t worry your pretty little head,” he murmured, pressing a sweet kiss to your forhead as he les you out to the porch.

     Eventually you found out John was exactly right. You greeted everyone with a hug- which was surprising to you that Simon seemed to melt into you like he hadn’t felt a good hug in years because, according to the stories John told you, Simon was anti-touch. Kyle was a sweet young man and you could tell how mich he admired John. Johnny was a handful, you observed. He immediately started taking cracks at Simon after he pulled away from the bone-breaking hug he gave you and recieved a sharp punch to the shoulder.

     “Plates and bowls are right there. Silverware’s on the table,” you said, gesturing to the respective items. “Come on, J,” you said, urging your husband up from his spot at the table.

     John carried your plate and his in one hand and weapped his hand around your waist with the other. “Are you doing alright so far, love?”

     You nodded with a bright smile. You easily got along with John’s teammates and they seemed to get along with you. And you could only hope that they liked the food you made.

     Luckily for you, though, you didn’t have to wait long for your answer.

     You were sitting down in your seat beside John when you heard a noise that sounded like a gasp and a whimper.

     Two spots to your left, the fork in Johnny’s hands shook as he chewed.

     “Is- Are you okay?” You asked skeptically. You’d avoided using any foods you’d known they were allergic to, so what was the problem? Did he not like it? Did the spaghetti go bad? Were the meatballs moldy? Did you add the wrong spices to the pull-apart muffins?

     “Lass… I need you to send me ma this recipe. I don’t- this is- serve this at my funeral, cap, bury me in this,” he babbled as he shoved forkfuls of noodles into his mouth.

     You breathed a sigh of relief, incredibly grateful for Johnny’s compliment and reaction. You looked at Simon and Kyle. To your surprise they too practically licked their playe xlean before bouncing back up to get an even bigger heap of spaghetti.

     John watched you through moist eyes and soft smile. The way you fawned over his team like a mother duckling made his heart race in ways he didn’t know was possible for a man his age. He didn’t have to tell you how much he cared for Simon, Kyle, and Johnny. You knew because you always knew- even when John couldn’t form the words to say anything. Seeing you all interact made his heart swell. John felt complete; pure, even. At times he wasn’t sure if he deserved this small but solid family, but he knew he would fight tooth and nail to protect each and every one of you.

[rainylana]

Relationship headcanons w/Eddie

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: just a few head canons! just one warning for a mention of vomiting.

• i think there’s a random couch that is out in his yard that gets rained on and moldy, but he just keeps it outside to sit on it. it’s covered in cat and dog hair. it’s been there since he can remember. you both sit out on it a lot and watch the sunset, even though there’s perfectly good chairs on the porch for you to sit on. 

• pays for everything even though he doesn’t have the money for it. he works himself to the bone when he’s not in school just so he has the money to take you out. you always offer to pay, but he never lets you.

• gives the back of your neck little squeezes<3 especially when he can tell that you’re anxious and don’t want to talk about it.

• reads to you when you’re sick. he loves to coddle you, borderline baby you, when you don’t feel like getting out of bed. he’ll spoon feed you soup and make you tea. he’ll always hold your hair for you when you get sick to your stomach!

• holds the door open for you no matter where you go. he’s always a gentleman, despite what everyone says about him. also pulls out your chair for you at restaurants, school and even hellfire. he doesn’t care if the guys tease him. you’re his queen.

• when it’s allergy season he keeps tissues in his jacket pocket at the ready for when you need them.

• the first time you cried he realized that he was in love with you. watching you become so upset had made his heart ache.

• you have to wake him up for school because he can’t wake up to his alarm. it doesn’t matter how loud it is, he will NOT wake up. wayne was so happy when you moved in because he was sick and tired of hearing eddie’s alarm go off for ten minutes before he eventually got up to wake his nephew up.

• doesn’t like shopping, but will go to the antique store or goodwill with you to look for old jewelry. he bought some combat boots there once that he was really happy about:) he modeled them for you in the dust aisles of the store.

• made you a ring out of a spoon. he found an article in a magazine on how to make one. he engraved his initials on it<3 got into the habit and started making them for his friends at hellfire.

• enjoys watching scary movies with you because of the way you hide your face in his chest.

• you have to make him eat vegetables because he refuses to. you have to basically feed him. he throws such a fit. if it wasn’t for you, he’d live off nothing but junk food.

[cyber333angel]

Jj making you feel better on your period !

caution ⚠️ - period s*x!

“alright babydoll let’s roll.” your boyfriend says, ready to go to the connivance store to get all the snacks and extra pads you need. “jayj my tummy hurts real bad and my feet too! can’t you just go for me..” you say in a glum tone, already in your sweat pants and jjs sweatshirt. you were all ready to go until your cramps snuck up on you and putting you in a agitating and painful mood. “baby you know I would but you won’t tell me what you want, plus I don’t know what size pussy you have so you gotta come with me to check.” he says shrugging his shoulders and trying to be funny, you look at him with an unamused face. “oh c’mon mrs. grumpster, we’ll be quick all you have to do is walk and point out what you want.” he picks you up placing you on his shoulder for a moment, walking to the outside of your apartment door and placing you down, forcing you to actually walk to the car, you mumble “that’s exactly the problem! you never listen t’me my feet hurt and-“ you go in grumbling a bunch of nothings and the two of you reach to the car. driving on the way to the store jj puts his hand on your tummy, rubbing it in circles, it relives the pain a bit. he sees you sigh at the relief, “that feel good babycakes?” you nod taking his hand and putting it below your waistband, directly on top of your pelvis. “your hand is so warm jayj..feels nice.” he’s just happy to help you get rid of some of that pain, resting his hand there for the rest of the ride. arriving at the store the two of you enter and walk around, grabbing all your cravings, pain killers and pads.

jj pays for it at the counter and puts the bags in the trunk. your sat back in the passengers seat moaning and groaning at the sudden pain, your back hurts and everything is just overwhelming you! “mmm jj I can’t do it! everything hurts so’bad! ugh..!” your crutched over the seat, your tummy in your lap, jj takes his hands and rubs your back. “im sorry sweet girl..don’t worry we will be home soon.” he says disheartened at your pain, knowing he can’t really help much. you and your boyfriend get home, jj unpacks the bag and you run to lay down on your bed, shriveling and rolling around in pain. after jj is done packing the bags he comes up to to your room watching you perform the scene, upset at the fact his baby is in pain. “you know..I saw on the internet that masterbation and sex can help relive period cramps.” you stop rolling around the bed, wondering if you actually heard what he just said and look at him astonished. “what! I just saw it somewhere, s’not like I made it up.” you huff at the rash suggestion, “jayj you don’t think that’s gross? s’all bloody down there..it would be very messy.” he steps closer to the bed, shaking his head and sits next to you, “babydoll nothing about you is gross, it’s very natural and I want to help you. trust, there’s worse things I’ve eaten. like once I ate this moldy bread with-“ you interrupt him, “yeah I know how gross you are! but if your really fine with it then I guess we can try..”

“you know I am mama.” you shy away at his eagerness and nod, and he gets up to fetch you a towel to place under you. you clean yourself up a bit and lie down on the bed, sliding off your sweatpants and panties leaving only jjs sweater to cover you. a little nervous of how this will go, your boyfriend sits on the bed applying a condom. he has you in a missionary position quivering under him, he calms you down. “baby I promise you it’s alright. the only thing I want for you is to feel better. you could do that for me right?” nodding but still a little anxious he lifts your thighs up, putting them on his shoulders and lines his cock up to your reddened hole. “im going in alright princess?” you squeeze your eyes shut as he pushes in, his hand on your lower waist, pressing down you feel an intense pressure. arching your back you mewl at his prick prodding at your walls. “mmph jayj,.! feels so strange..” he thrust back and forth very slowly, “a good strange or..?” nodding at him, “s’good jayj just feels so deep!” your boyfriend loves that response providing deeper strokes to distract you from any cramps. “oh shit babycakes, you feel so fuckin warm..” you sit up on your shoulders and watch his cock go in and out, making such a mess of your pussy. you breathe hard through your nose and cringe at the pace. “jj i wanna cum..!” he looks down at you wrapping his arms around your thighs “you want me to go faster?” you nod frantically, “please!” jj pulls his hips back and thrust back in at a fast pace. your cunt squelching from mix of blood and arousal, pap-pap-pap. “hngh wait jayj s-slow down a bit!” you cry at the stimulation, “which one is it you want me to go faster or slower hm?” your unable to answer a the intensity, you feel a quiver in your stomach making you wince. “aw cupcake you feel like y’gonna cum? daddy making you feel good?” nodding, he rubs circles onto your cunt making you clench around him. “angh! feels so’good jayj..m’gonna cum!”

“c’mon baby..oh theeere it is good job.” you cream around his length, squealing and catching your breath from the orgasm. your boyfriend finishes in you and pulls out, leaving you feeling empty. “so how’s the cramps now mama?” sniffling, you tell him, “feels so much better jayj, thank you!” getting up you fling yourself on him to give him a hug. “no problem, anything to help you baby.” he smirks at you, “let’s get you cleaned up now sweet girl.” he takes you to the bathroom giving you a relaxing bath, doing all of the work for you. he drys you off, helps you into your pajamas and slides on your bonnet. giving you a painkiller with some water and tucking you into bed. “good night babydoll. tomorrow we will try some yoga, I heard that helps too.” you huff and grumble at the tiring sounding activity, “no m’sleeping tomorrow jayj!” he laughs at your lazy reaction and snuggles you closer to him.

[doki-doki-imagines]

Power of a hug feat mk1 Johnny Cage, Bi-Han, Kenshi Takahashi author note:as my fave memer said "the wettest and most humid kiss is nothing in comparison to the power of an hug". There are other characters that I have in mind with this prompt so I hope the post will go well lol.

tw: Kenshi part is suggestive.

You are used to being alone, you have been for most of your years, and you are sure Johnny would never describe you as clingy. You give him his space, he gives you yours, nice and comfortable. That’s why when he told you about this expedition that was going to take him a long time and far away, you didn’t budge, just kissed him goodbye and told him to come back in one piece.

Okay, the departure wasn’t so blunt, and maybe there weren’t just kisses and maybe you were sobbing while telling him to be safe because you knew that Johnny wasn’t going out for a movie, but this is the gist of it.

And now you are sitting on Johnny’s armchair, wearing his favorite cover, the one dripping off his perfume, reading, trying to get your mind elsewhere while your heart silently shouts in pain, while your brain screams at it to shut up, because you are strong and even if you haven’t heard him for 2 months you shouldn’t miss him so much, because you are independent and yadda yadda; you miss him so much you’d curl up in a hole and get moldy there.

You sit there, ‘till you recognize a familiar sound, “is that Liu Kang voice?” you think, already standing up. There are other voices outside the house, but soon they all fade when you hear one in particular.

It’s Johnny’s one.

You’d like to stay in, wait for him inside nonchalantly walking towards him to greet your boyfriend as elegantly as you can muster.

Outside is snowing and you are wearing shorts (made of wool, but still shorts) and slippers but your mind simply doesn’t work, heart beating freely, pumping blood with new vigor.

“Johnny!” You open the door, freezing air hitting your body with full force, but you feel nothing.

Your legs run toward your boyfriend before your mind perceives your action. He turns around at your voice, and he is so beautiful your legs almost give up…almost.

“Oh-“ You jump in his arms, knocking him a few steps behind, not noticing all the gifts he had to throw on the ground to take you. You sigh in his arms, his strong arms now enveloping your shivering body “Kitty, are you shivering because you missed me?” He jokingly says,

“Yeah, it’s because I missed you so much.”  Your voice breaks, your arms around his neck, legs gripping his waist as tightly as you can.

His hands slid on your thighs, thumbs drawing hearts on your skin, no goose-bumps, he is so warm and you are so full of love that you can’t feel anything else anymore.

Your foreheads kiss, breaths mingling, smiles stuck on both of your faces, warm brown eyes locked into yours.

His friends are long gone, leaving the two lovebirds alone.

He had to leave you there, in a snowstorm in the hands of the enemies, alone. You always have a plan, they always work out that’s why he trusts you so much even if you are a total dumbass.

“Go Bi-Han, don’t worry for me.” Your voice was trembling, you knew that you couldn’t survive and you also knew that he needed to return home alive.

And he follows your order because you are always right and things always go your way. Even when you are against him. Even when you tease him making his ears flush red. You always come up victorius.

Bi-Han stops on his track, snow falling on his shoulders. He can’t breathe. He hates you.

He’d like to sit there and let snow bury him. He can’t, he is Lin Kuei grandmaster whose willpower never waver, and who is headstrong like nobody else. Bi-Han has seen dear ones die in front of his eyes, betray him, this time mustn’t be any different.

Bi-Han feels like crying. You aren’t a fighter, but he wanted to bring you with him because nobody could outsmart you, and your brain was needed for this mission.

What an idiot. He tightens his fists, eyes closed so tight that wrinkles appear at the corners, no punishment would be enough for his mistake, never enough whips, never enough slaps.

He stays there a few more minutes, he couldn’t go back home, not ‘till he won’t be sure tears wouldn’t spill from his eyes.

Then he hears a voice, more like a whine, but it’s something he has heard many times before. Bi-Han starts to run towards the voice, walking much harder with so much snow.

“Told you-“ You are there, sitting on the snow, trembling like a newborn kitty, eyes shining, and with that shit-eating grin of yours “my plans never fail!” He crouches down towards you, he must be going crazy, his index and middle fingers pinch your cheek.

“Ouch! Why did you do that?” You are there, real, talking to him like you didn’t say goodbye to him a few minutes prior. He sits next to you, onyx eyes wide.

“You are alive” He is able to say, voice hoarse as always, mask reducing the sound to a mere whisper.

“Yeah, I would have never let anyone take my life, they have to get in line you know? Since you were the first one to promise me you were going to-“

Bi-Han doesn’t let you finish the phrase, his arms hugging your torso so close and so strongly against his body that he knocks air out of your lungs.

“I was so worried.” His right hand grips the back of your head, holding it in the nook of his neck. His voice trembles and he feels you stilling in his arms. He can feel your warm breath on his neck, your chest rising up and down at each breath you take; you are alive.

He almost lost you.

You free your head from his grip, thin ice on your hair like a veil made by his unrestrained magic, your hands now slowly removing his mask, showing you his trembling lips, you look at his eyes, he knows they are watery, his vision is foggy. Then your delicate fingers grip the collar of his uniform, your lips pressing for the first time against his.

It is a short moment, Bi-Han closes his eyes, and when he opens them your lips aren’t there anymore, but he still feels something warm; your arms reciprocating the hug.

It is suffocating but at the same time makes him feel alive, a warmth that envelops him entirely, that makes his heart run like a wild horse, but that puts his mind at ease; he is safe, you are too in his arms.

He couldn’t ask for more.

“K-Kenshi-“ You gasp, your hips grinding onto his, his tattoed hands running from your chest to your tummy, never resting, never letting you go.

He missed you. Kenshi missed you terribly. It wasn’t just sex, as good as it is, he missed your voice, your hands in his ones, your gentle lips on his cheeks. He missed hearing you talking about your day, about that terrible co-worker. He missed hearing your laughter and your hands massaging his scalp when he felt particularly stressed.

A moan dies in his throat after a delicious roll of your hips. Yeah, he missed this too.

You are close he can feel it and he is not far behind, but there is still something he desperately needs to do.

He lifts up, sitting now, his arms around your waist, hands on your lower back, both guiding your movements and keeping you close to his chest.

“I missed you so much-“ A whimper leaves his mouth, he can feel your lips so close to his, your breath labored, your body so close creates a delicious friction that just makes his mind fog even more.

“Me too, me too-“ You hug him back, your arms tight against his back, nails scratching his back while he helps you both reach completion.

You keep each other close, breaths still heavy, bodies sweaty.

“I missed you so much.” You are the first one to break the silence, Kenshi notices a hint of sadness.

Hint that became something more when the hand caressing your cheek meets a tear. The pang he feels in his heart hurts so much, but he also knows it is deserved.

“Me too honey, me too.” His right hand massages the back of your head, while the other traces heart-shaped patterns on your back.

Kenshi doesn’t let go, now laying on your shared bed, you on top of him. He can’t see your face, but losing sight made him more sensible, noticing every gasp leaving your lips, every twitch of your muscles.

He restrains himself, he can’t cry, but every gasp that leaves your lips is like a stab in his chest, each tear pulling your body closer, your hearts beating in synchronized sorrow.

But Kenshi can’t tell you that next time it will be different. He can’t reassure you that he will be safe.

He keeps you close to his chest ‘till he feels your breath slowing down, now stable. Kenshi keeps caressing your back, feeling his muscles relax, exhaustion washing over him too.

Kenshi soon falls asleep, wishing to still have you in his arms when he’ll regain consciousness the next morning.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU pt 67

part 1 | part 66 | ao3

cw: recreational drug use

Waiting around to die or get arrested or whatever fucking sucks. Partly because there’s no running water (Steve’s never wanted to take a stress shower so badly in his life) and partly because Eddie won’t let him stay sober. Has it in his head that altering Steve’s mental state will keep Vecna away, like hanging a mosquito net over the opening of a tent.

It’s not not working, he guesses.

He hasn’t fallen in to any more hallucinated open graves, at least.

He comes down the stairs a little before noon, towel-drying his hair after a bottled water sink bath, and finds Eddie in the kitchen: Reeboks on, hair a cotton candy mess, head-to-toe teddy bear tie-dye under his leather jacket — a matching shirt and sweats that he fished out of Rick’s dresser. He’s stirring Spaghettios in a small pot at the stove, and when he sees Steve come in he turns to offer some, the wooden spoon held out with a sort of desperate perkiness. “Morning! I found food that isn’t expired. You want some?”

Steve shakes his head.

Eddie shovels the whole spoonful into his mouth; wipes sauce off his chin, speaks before he’s finished chewing. “I also found blotters in the freezer and shrooms in the bedroom closet, so uh. Pick your poison.”

Steve picks the shrooms. They wait a few hours to take them because Eddie swears the sunset while you’re tripping is unparalleled, man, although Steve kind of suspects that he’s just giving him time to work up the nerve to eat them. He still gets nervous about chemicals — probably always will, after the shit the Russians did.

In the meantime, Eddie rummages through Rick’s cassette collection, and Steve talks to Robin on the walkie; gets all the new details in staticky half-sentences — something about mind flayers and mental hospitals, what else is new? He tells her to be safe; tells her that he loves her; keeps his eyes trained on the clock.

—

Shrooms smell and taste like ass. Steve can’t stomach them; spits into the grass while Eddie laughs sympathetically and hands him a little square of paper to put on his tongue instead, and they spread out side by side on a few old beach towels by the water and wait for it to kick in.

Nothing, at first, not that Steve expected different. Twenty minutes; forty-five.

“Still nothing?”

“Nothing.”

And then.

Eddie holds up a glossy aquamarine pebble, squinting at its glow in the late afternoon sun. “I should give this rock to Skye. Bet she’d love it.”

“That’s a shard of glass.”

Eddie blinks at it. “Oh, shit.”

Steve snorts, and when he looks at Eddie sideways there’s a glimmer of that same cerulean shade outlining his whole body, a low-frequency feather of energy rolling off of him in waves. Eddie moves his arm and the color chases it, a long-exposure photo of high beams on rain-slick roads.

“Oh,” Steve says, mouth slack. His voices echo in his head; all six of them. “I think I’m…”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, eyes alight, pupils blown.

“Yeah.”

All at once something slots into place, attunes itself inside of Steve, and it’s like… he can see Eddie’s mind; touch it, cradle it, reach out to it with its own. It feels crazy. Psychedelics are fucking crazy. He reaches out a hand, slicing through ribbons of shimmering light, tasting the colors as they fade, and Eddie’s emotions spread out in high-definition before him — like the image has always been there but now it’s crystal clear; someone’s shifted his focal point, filled a kiddie pool with Epsom salt and left him there to float.

“I see you,” he says nonsensically.

Eddie frowns. “I’m sorry.”

“…That I can see you?”

“I usually am.”

That’s not right. Eddie’s thoughts shouldn’t sour on his account, shouldn’t sag in the middle like a moldy tangerine. “I can close my eyes?”

“Fuck,” Eddie laughs, thin and strained. “Don’t say shit like that when I’m not allowed to kiss you.”

“You’re not?”

He hesitates. “Am I?” Antsy fingers drum the grass, overgrown with vibrant clover and dandelion stalks. “Just feel like we should talk first, if uh, if it’s safe.”

Steve probes his own mind, tests it for outside threats, but there’s nothing. The acid forms a fractal fortress. Penrose steps, paradoxical and strange. “It’s safe.”

He moves to lie on his side, invites Eddie to do the same. “Talk into the kiss,” he suggests when Eddie joins him — face to face, chest to chest, Steve can see the thrum of Eddie’s heartbeat in the hollow of his throat; wants to press his thumb to it, so he does, the sense memory of ripe cherries bursting on his tongue.

Eddie’s lips against his own; hovering. Static electricity like the scent of summer rain. “I think my pride makes me a coward.”

Steve rubs his dry lips across Eddie’s, chapped skin and shared heat.

“It’s like… I kept trying to tell myself that I was being… I don’t know, valiant, or some shit? Like, ‘oh, he’s so much better without me. I’m the town pariah; I���m keeping him safe by running away.’” He thumps his fist against his heart as if beating a shield to shining armor, and Steve can’t see his eyebrows with their foreheads pressed together, but he can feel Eddie scrunching them into a picture-perfect hero frown. Almost has to laugh — so fucking theatrical even when he’s serious.

“But if I’m honest,” Eddie murmurs, “it wasn’t like that at all. Nothing fucking brave about vanishing on you. Like, what?” His voice shifts again, lilting but critical, a comedian doing crowd work. “I get a liiiittle fucked up by townies two too many times, and I sabotage my whole life over it? Ruin the best thing I’ve ever had over it? As if this goddamn horseshit hasn’t been happening to me since— forever! Shit.” He blows his bangs out of his face; calms himself. Goes a little cross-eyed trying to look Steve in the eye. “I got scared, Steve. There it is. That’s the ugly truth of it.”

He swallows harshly in the dense silence that follows.

Robins chirp; cars pass.

The lake laps at the shore and casts prisms like fishing line, spiderwebs of rainbow light flashing behind Steve’s eyelids. He brings his hands up to Eddie’s face.

“Christ.” Eddie shudders; lets himself become dead weight, rubbing his cheek into the touch, warm stubble scratching over the pads of Steve’s fingers. “Am I making any sense? I feel like I’m not making any sense.”

Yes. No. “You’re making sense. I mean. As much as anything is right now.” The sandy brown freckles on the bridge of Eddie’s nose are swirling like snow flurries. Steve traces them with curious hands. His knuckles blur and swivel, too. “You left because… you wanted to protect me from… yourself?” He sums up, not sure if he’s getting the math right.

“I left because I’m a scared little shit who couldn’t handle getting bullied in a parking lot, but uh. Yeah. I guess I, like, didn’t want to…” His eyes go big and startled, cheeks flooding bright pink. “Oh, shit, I was about to say I didn’t want to curse you, Jesus Christ.”

Steve honks with laughter. Loud and deep and punched out without warning, because the irony of that — that there’s a literal big bad running around cursing people, and the person who was actually doing some real good in his life decided that he was the problem — it’s fucking— hilarious! Hysterical! Steve giggles himself sick, lungs burning as it tapers to a silent wheeze, and Eddie joins him, confusion giving way to compulsion; contagion in the manic giddiness spewing out of Steve.

“You thought—” Steve struggles through hiccups, tears beading in his lash line, “you thought you were the bad luck charm in this relationship?”

“Don’t mock me!” Eddie whines, still laughing. “I already said it was dumb.”

“It’s so dumb.” Eddie may be the cutest, dumbest thing he’s ever seen. He rubs his thumbs over his cheekbones, smile fading. “If anyone’s a curse, it’s me.” Four for four here on getting dragged into supernatural shit. Does Eddie really think homophobes are more dangerous than hell dimensions?

Eddie’s already shaking his head. “You’re a fucking blessing.”

Warmth radiates through Steve, drips from the crown of his head like a downpour of holy water. He feels anointed. Ascended. He feels— “Please tell me we’re allowed to kiss now.”

Their mouths crush together, impossible to tell who moves first, whose tongue is in whose mouth, whose desperate breath Steve swallows as Eddie rolls him onto his back. Hands roam and pull and clutch, molding the shape of him into the earth. Maybe someday, Steve thinks, if aliens invade, they’ll study these imprints like crop circles, trampled declarations of how much Steve loves this boy. “God,” he gasps into the kiss. “Missed you so much.”

“So much.”

“Don’t do that to me again. Don’t go.”

“Never,” Eddie swears. His grip tightens on Steve’s waist. “Never again, baby, I fucking promise. I think I—”

On the far side of the house, leaves crunch and branches snap as a car pulls up the drive. Boots on pavement, rowdy voices; unfamiliar; red alert.

“Spread out, boys!” the voice of Jason Carver bellows. “If that Freak’s in here, we’ll find him.”

—

part 68

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[slugsby-pt3]

zero day headcannons

- andre is always bruised the fuck up from assholes at school because cal always has some smart shit to say and andre has to whiteknight him

- cal does not cut but andre….yall aren’t ready for that

- cal is depressed in the way that he is dissatisfied with the world and not the type where he feels the need to punish himself

- cal’s surprisingly a really good big brother and was really excited to get a baby brother

- andre and his older brother fight like dogs, andre has definitely chased his brother around the kitchen with a knife as siblings do

- andre isn’t a wall puncher because he’s so anal about his room looking a certain way so he goes down to his basement and breaks shit

- andre doesn’t listen to music, like he doesn’t have a favorite band at all. He listens to whatever’s on the radio that isn’t ear piercing and whatever cal listens to

- andre is a secret hopeless romantic, i.e keeping that note from a girl in eighth grade

- cal knows Rachel likes him and just see it as a non factory (plus a secret thing of liking how reactive andre gets where cal brings her up)

- andre unknowingly is in love with cal and just sees them as best friends that really care for each other (in a I just wanna kiss him in a bro way) and doesn’t understand his parents telling him they are “codependent”

- andre’s internalized homophobia is the reason him and cal died virgins

- even if they ended up realizing it, cal wouldn’t be able to get it up (hiii dylan)

- andre’s room is insanely tidy, like has the layout and an organizer so everything goes where it should

- cal’s room is dirty as all fuck, clean/dirty clothes on the floor, growing cultures in all the dirty moldy bowls on his bed side table and around his bed

- cal smells like applesauce and cheap weed

- andre is accidentally straightedge, not because he like believes in that ideology. He’s just very particular in the things he allows himself to do. (Plus cal got him high one time in tenth grade and andre hella greened out and it ruined it for him forever of it)

- people at school don’t know andre is jewish and just think he’s obsessed with German shit in a edgy nazi teenage boy way

- cal hates school functions, and even skips assemblies, but always comes to Andre’s cross country and track meets

- andre is very protective over mel and uses his money from his pizza job to buy her toys and clothes

- when andre and cal have sleepovers at Andre’s house, cal’s expected to adhere to mel having a specific spot on Andre’s bed since she was “here first”

- andre was known as the angry kid in elementary after throwing a printer towards a teacher in the second grade (giving Connor realness)

- andre has fun saying shit in French/german to confuse cal

- andre is that fucking irritating kid that plays devil advocate in history/government class

- andre took lineleader crazily serious in elementary school, fully letting that small sense of superiority completely control him

- he also took kahoot and dodgeball to the next level (andre was one of those shitty teenage boys that would throw it as hard as he could and then be a dick saying ‘I didn’t even throw it that hard’ as if he didn’t nearly pull a goddamn muscle doing that shit)

[bonesandchalamet]

from the shining lights, to the sandy beaches, I’ll only love you — p.mellark

masterlist | pairing: peeta mellark x fem!reader

summary: bored and facing the capitol, you give the citizens of panem some drama to spice up the games

warnings: slight mentions of 18+ ideas but nothing graphic + mentions of insecurity

hours you think. it had to have been hours layered laying in woven grass blankets with flattened bread in your pockets that’s sure to be moldy soon from the moisture.

“how long have I been out?” a grunt escapes your lips to signal your awakening to them. you attempt to sit upward, but your hands were badly blistered and your arms were weak.

peeta lunged into the makeshift tent, he gently lays you back down shushing you to not worry about taking the next shift. after all, you’d been the one to trip over rocks in the acid rain, if anyone should get sleep it’s Finnick who carried you like it was nothing.

Finnick. sweet, sexy, district four, Finnick odair. the man women are obsessed with, and you could see why. his beautiful blue eyes and cocky smile, if it weren’t for the baker beside you, you’d be all over that fine man.

there was nothing wrong with peeta. his tenderness, the warmth he provides, he was an amazing boyfriend. but the ever thought of another man seemed to spark a load of questions piling up in your brain.

the storm had been out for awhile now, leaving you with some time of peace. you flip onto your left side, facing peeta, a wicked smile lifts your lips that he can’t even read. but it gives him something to laugh at in this place, “what’s your problem?”

“if you could fuck someone in the capitol would you do it? someone dressed like Effie?”

finnick makes a repulsive noise. hes had a fair share of capitol women, and even the sight of Effie was enough for him. having ran into her with zero makeup on, and nothing but a wig, Finnick odair would rather steer clear of any women from the capitol.

“I’d really prefer we think about our game plan—“

“it’s a simple question.” johanna finally wakes, she sits up carefully, her voice draws finnicks attention briefly from looking out.

sweat thickens above his upper lips. peeta knows there’s a correct answer. being in love with you, he’d never thought of another woman, so why would you ask? he can only imagine to lighten the mood, lift the spirits of the citizens watching in boredom, so he thinks it’s not harmful to play along?

“I’ve only ever wanted intimate moments with you.” peeta extends out his hand, the roughness of his palm touching your cheek, “you know I only love you.”

“this is such a yawn.” Johanna counters, she eagerly sits forward breaking the moment, “not a single woman caught your eye on the tour? you’re going to die anyway, might as well admit it.”

peeta let’s out a light laugh, and you know he’s serious. he’s only ever had eyes for you, but to Johanna, Finnick, haymitch, and potential sponsors, he needs to play in. he needs to draw them something, so he does what he’s a natural at; story telling.

“well there was a girl,” he pauses, eyes swiftly glancing at you before back at johanna, “hard to tell how old she was under those capitol lights, but she just kept following me. every room she was there, and I just couldn’t take my eyes off her.” he looks up the makeshift tent, a sadden glow casts across his face, “I wonder if I’ll see her again.”

you can’t quite remember a woman who followed him in every room besides yourself. maybe that’s who he was discussing? but he’d bought Finnick and Johanna’s approval leaving peeta to slip out the tent.

“what about you, y/n? sleep with a capitol or finnick?”

finnicks head snaps his head in the direction of his name, a spark lights in him earning a bright cocky smile, “I don’t bite, babe.”

it’s your turn to make a repulsive noise, but you know everyone at home is inching closer to their screens: would you screw around with Finnick for a night? or would you dare head back to the capitol? Finnick it is.

“just for a night,” you pause taking a long look at peeta. he’s fixated his eyes on something with the sand, probably just to occupy his mind from this conversation that’ll haunt his last memories with you, “I’d do Finnick, on the count that peeta can be there.”

“a threesome?” Finnicks words echo across the sandy beaches practically giving away your hiding spot, “I’m not sure I’ve ever done that.”

“I’d pay to be a fly on the wall of that night.” Johanna grins.

“I’ll pass. I don’t think I’d well with sharing.” Peeta blurts out.

a wide grin takes hold of Johanna’s face, yours is covered in a deep red blush that you’re thankful no one can make out in the darkness.

“peeta, possessive? never would’ve thought of that.”

it’s a shock to everyone, even you. peeta never showed any care that you were close to other guys, like Finnick or even beetee, but maybe it’s because he always knew you’d come back to him. he always knew it was him you’d love and swear you’d never leave. it must be the insecure feeling that if you saw what Finnick had, you’d leave.

to answer his worries, you wrap your arms around peetas neck and press a long kiss to his lips, “I kind of like it.”

“I’d rather sleep with haymitch than either one of you lovebirds.” finnick answers johannas question that was slightly forgotten from you three in the tent.

“come on, it’s my turn to watch.” johanna crawls out the tent, and for a second it’s just you two alone. you slip beside him, resting your head against his bicep, “who was the girl from the capitol?” you whisper.

a smile lifts to his lips, his shoulder slightly budges you to sit up, “who do you think?”

it was you. only you.

[keikikait]

ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ (ɢᴏᴊᴏ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

this is part 2 of my previous fic, which you can find here

for my other gojo smut, click here!

pairing: gojo x f!reader (not au, gojo is 29, reader is early-mid 20’s)

word count: 2.5k

summary: you’re home from your teacher retreat to nikko, ready for the new term. what you’re not ready for? gojo to come home to you. 

warnings: (FOR THIS PART) SMUT - 18+ ONLY! MDNI, dom!gojo and sub!reader, protected sex (pill, not mentioned but its there) degrading (he uses the word slut), hair pulling, nipple play, spitplay (bye….), light edging, finger/thumb sucking (don’t look at me), use of the words [cock, cunt, and tits], slight oral (f receiving), a bit of angst & a bit of mean gojo, nickname use [baby, pretty girl, doll], no use of y/n

a note: i know i said this would be out next week but it was my day off so i wrote it all today. this is less angst, more smut, but i can’t help myself so there is some angst. also, im sorry i made gojo such an asshole, i promise that he will get better! part 3 will be out soon my loves.

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

Your eyes are already open when your alarm goes off. 

You didn’t sleep at all. There was no point, even after you finished crying your head hurt too much to sleep, even with some painkillers. You laid there, wide awake all night thinking about Gojo. Did he think of you, too? You turn the alarm off and slide out of bed, your slipper-covered feet shuffling as you make your way around your apartment. 

You brush your teeth and look in the mirror. Your eyes are puffy and swollen, mascara smeared down your cheeks. You pop some spoons in the freezer to cool as you clean yourself up and get dressed. Your phone sits untouched on the bedside table, still plugged in.

You sit on the side of your bed, pressing the now cold spoons against your swollen eyes. You take deep breaths, trying to relax. You had every right to be upset, after all. Gojo has no reason to string you along, whispering sweet nothings in your ear at night about how you’re his girl, his doll, his everything. But that’s exactly what that was. Nothing. Maybe, you think, this is some kind of karma. Some sort of punishment for your arrogance, for thinking you could have what everyone else wants, Gojo, and here—at last—it was.

You put on some de-puffing undereye patches that you keep in the fridge and clean your entire apartment spotless to distract yourself, music blasting from the phone in your back pocket. You finally throw out that dead fern you got as a gift from the school board when you first started, and you finally clean out your fridge of the now moldy condiments you tried once on a whim. You’re washing dishes when the front door opens and, suddenly, Gojo steps inside. He had opted for his dark blue circular sunglasses today, an odd choice for the winter but you didn’t mind it. “Hi,” you say, surprised, pulling off the bright marigold gloves and setting them on the side of the sink to dry. For a second, you think about the absolute state of your eyes. The swelling and puffiness had gone down, and even though he had never seen you cry, you think about the fact that even if he noticed your eyes he wouldn’t care enough to ask questions.

“Hey,” is all Gojo says in response. You wait to see if he says anything else, or if he is going to try to explain himself, but he doesn’t, and eventually moves across your apartment to head to the bathroom. You hesitate before you make your way after him, passing his duffel bag on the floor of your closet, which was unzipped and filled with enough clothes that it was clear that he was going to stay for a while.

You feel pathetic admitting it to yourself but having Gojo there — not just in your apartment, but in your room — feels nice. He doesn’t speak to you yet, but his very presence steadies and refocuses you. As grateful as you are that he came back to you, you are also a little disappointed in yourself, by how dependent you are, how weak. Who were you without him?

Eventually, he faces you, peering at you over the top of his glasses. “Hey, pretty girl.”

You swallow hard, willing yourself to be strong, to finally confront him about all of the false promises and the date with Himiko, but you can’t. Not yet. “Hi, Gojo.”

He smiles, reaching you with just one step and collecting you in his arms, wrapping them tightly around your hips. He leans down and kisses you, for the first time in almost nine days, and you feel yourself giving up, giving all power to him.

After a few seconds, he pulls away, smirking. “I missed you. I’m sorry that I didn’t come home last night…I got carried away.”

You’ve noticed over the past eleven months (yes, you kept track) of your situationship that he uses that term a lot; carried away. He uses it when he gets a little too handsy during the free periods at work and when he stares at you a bit too long during staff meetings. He uses it when he forgets to call or text you and when it seems like you’re the last thing on his mind. Maybe you are. 

You smile, shrugging. “Don’t worry about it, baby. I’m just glad you’re here now.”

He grins, gently running his hands up your back, lightly scratching his nails against you, making you shiver. “Of course. I always come back home to you.” He bends at the knees and picks you up, carrying you the short distance to your bed before laying you down and climbing on top of you. Excitement fills your body as he leans down and starts placing soft kisses along your neck. You arch into him, whining and tugging on his sleeves, and he chuckles. “Relax, doll. Quit acting so desperate. You’re not in charge here, remember?”

You feel drool pool in your mouth and you quickly swallow it. “I’m sorry, Gojo, it’s just that —”

He interrupts you, sliding his thumb into your mouth to shut you up. “I know, baby, I know. You went eight whole days without my touch and now you’re acting like a desperate little slut,” You nod, hoping he won’t tease you this time. He smirks at the dumb look on your face before saying, “Open.” You do, opening your mouth wide and sticking your tongue out a little. He pulls his thumb away and draws back briefly before spitting into your open mouth. You swallow it without his command. You know what he likes.

He grins, kissing your lips once more before kissing down your chin and neck, slowly sliding off your t-shirt. You whine and squirm under him, and after he pulls your shirt off he clamps his hand over your mouth. “Shut up. If you keep whining, I won’t fuck you at all. Is that what you want?” You shake your head vigorously, that’s the last thing you want. He removes his hand before continuing, “Good. Don’t speak unless I tell you to,” You nod, relaxing into your sheets as he kisses down your chest. He pushes your bra up over your tits, groaning as he squeezes them in his hands. “Fuck. I missed my girls.” You would normally scold him for objectifying you, but at this moment you didn’t care. You wanted his hands on you, and you wanted his dick inside of you as soon as possible.

He takes the sunglasses off and brings one of your nipples to his mouth, lightly brushing his lips against it to tease you. He sticks his tongue out and drags it along your nipple in circles, loving the way your thighs fall open and the little sounds you make. He finally, finally sucks your nipple into his mouth, pinching the other one hard just to feel you squirm. He rolls your bare nipple between his fingers while he lightly nibbles on the one in his mouth. Your head is spinning, and all you can do is tug on his hair as he teases you. He lets go of your nipple with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting it to his lips. He picks it up on his finger and rubs it on your face just to humiliate you.

He kisses down your torso, tugging down your pyjama bottoms and tossing them onto the floor. He kisses your thighs as he pushes them up and against your chest so you’re nice and spread out for him, just as he likes. He notices the wet spot on your plain blue cotton underwear and smirks, rubbing at it with his thumb. “Someone’s eager, aren’t they?”

You take it you can respond to him now. “Fuck, Gojo, please! Please stop teasing me, I already went eight days without you.” The whine in your voice makes him feel so big, so powerful. He barely touches you and you’re already crumbling at his feet. Maybe he should keep you there.

He makes that condescending tsk tsk tsk sound that normally annoys you, but now you can’t help it and you whine and squirm even more. “You’re so desperate, baby. You can’t even handle a little teasing?” He presses his thumb right against your clit, the wet spot spreads even more. “I guess you do have a point, though. I haven’t made you cum since we left for Nikko.” He kisses right above the hem of your underwear before pulling it down, the blue fabric now dangling around your ankle. He moans, pushing your legs back even further and spreading your cunt. 

He spits directly onto your pink little hole, watching as it mixes with your juices. In this moment, you’re his. You’re his everything, his girl, his doll. In this moment you actually mean something to him, when you’re spread out and begging for his attention. He runs his pointer finger down your slit, collecting some spit before dragging it back up to your clit and lightly circling it.

You almost cum on the spot. Days of pent-up horniness and teasing and you’re as sensitive as ever. You bite your lip, looking over at him with nothing but love and affection in your gaze. “Please, Gojo. Please don’t tease me. I don’t know if I can handle it.”

He gets comfortable, moving your thighs over his shoulders as he lays down on the bed. “You’ll take what I give you. Don’t disappoint me.” He circles your clit with his finger one last time before leaning down and sucking it into his mouth. You arch your back, your hands finding solace in his hair as you writhe and moan. He moans at your taste, gripping your hips hard as he gets lost in your cute little cunt. You grind against his face, and he lets you, loving the feeling of your clit against his tongue. He teases your hole with his fingers, sliding his thumb in as he swirls his tongue around your clit in circles. You clench up tight, mumbling praises along with I’m gonna cum! Please let me cum! before he pulls away completely. He laughs at the noise you make, and at the way your face contorts and tears well in your eyes. He slaps the inside of your thigh before standing up and unbuttoning his pants. “Oh, come on. Be a good girl for me, okay?”

You move up on the bed, your back supported by your pillows as he climbs over you. You’ve seen his dick a lot, more times than you can count, but the sheer size of it always surprises you. Thick and long, slightly curved to the left, with a pretty pink tip to match. His balls are big, too, full of cum and practically begging to be in your mouth, which waters as soon as you see it. 

Gojo looms over you, pushing you onto the bed as he slides in between your legs and gets comfortable. He rubs his tip against you, getting it nice and wet so you don’t struggle with the size as he fucks you, at least not too much. In a moment of pure intimacy, he reaches his hand up and rubs his thumb against your cheek, looking at you with an almost adoring gaze. You go to say something to him but all words escape your throat as he pushes his cock into you. You both moan in unison as he slides in and out slowly.

“God,” he groans, leaning down on his elbows and getting right in your face. “I missed you so much, baby. I know I’m such a dick to you, I just can’t help it, you look so cute when you’re angry…fuck, you feel so good.” He isn’t vocal in bed very often, and your heart swells as you get to watch him come undone and make such pretty noises as he does. 

In the heat of the moment, you forgive him. You know you’ll probably regret it, but you can’t stay mad at him when he’s looking at you like you’re the only woman in the world for him. Your smile is cut short by your moan as you manage to say, “It’s okay, Gojo. Please just stay here. Stay here with me.”

Gojo nods, propping himself up on one flat palm as his hips pick up speed. Normally he loves foreplay, he can tease you and edge you for hours, but the time spent without you in his arms and without you wrapped around his cock was too much to bare for him. He knows he fucked up, but he can’t take it back. He’s Satoru Gojo, and he has a reputation he needs to uphold. He’s all run, and you’re all fight, and that’s part of the reason why he feels so drawn to you.

He looks at you, moving to his elbows and reaching up to grab your face and pull you into a kiss. He pulls away and presses his forehead against yours, biting his lip as his hips move even faster. He drops back down to his elbows, your chests pressed together as he shakily moans, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, doll, I’m gonna cum.”

You nod, pulling at the hair at the nape of his neck as you cum around him, clenching down on his cock. He buries his face in your neck as he cums after you, cumming inside of you, like he always does. His breathing is ragged as he lays there, his cock twitching inside of you as his cum spills inside. Gojo eventually moves away from your neck, some of his hair matted to his forehead, slick with sweat. You push the hair back and smile at him, kissing his forehead gently. Even if he didn’t love you, you still loved him. And you think you always will.

He pulls out, immediately getting you a towel splashed with some warm water as he cleans you up. He’s gentle with his aftercare, making sure you’re comfortable, and collecting your water bottle from the living room. You pee before getting dressed, laying with him on the bed. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, pressing your face into his chest, and sliding his hand into your hair. He holds you there for a while, your breathing in sync before he leans down and kisses your forehead. 

Gojo puts on a cooking show to watch on your TV, setting the remote aside as he holds you close. He strokes your hair, and your mind starts to drift, and you wonder if he cares about you in the same way you care about him. Are you not good enough for him? Is there something wrong with you? Are you not what he wants? Are you not what he needs? You wake up every morning, hopeful for what’s to come with him, but you spend most of your time thinking about what you’ve already had and what he’s already said to you. You’re missing all these memories—maybe they were never even yours. 

Nothing hurts like he does.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

part 3 is here

[anna-scribbles]

aroace adrien fic chapter 2!!! and we all cheered

summary:

Kagami fixes her eyes intensely on his face, and Adrien smiles. He scoops peas onto his fork nonchalantly, trying to shake the cloud of guilt that always seems to follow him these days. He always feels see-through when Kagami looks at him like that. When she speaks, it’s matter-of-fact. “Something is bothering you.”

excerpt:

Kagami is a good girlfriend. A really, really good girlfriend.

She makes sure that they go on at least 2 dates per week, and schedules them far in advance. She texts him good morning and goodnight like clockwork. She’s even proactive about cute nicknames, sending him vetted lists of options which they can debate the merits of. If dating was a sport, Kagami would be a gold medalist.

And she kisses him. A lot.

“Good morning, sunshine,” she’ll tell him with a peck on the cheek, catching him on the steps before he goes into school. He’ll grin and she’ll tilt his chin closer, planting one right on his lips.

“Come here,” she’ll coax, swiping away their homework with one hand and tugging at his shirt collar with the other. He’ll look up at her through his lashes and part his mouth just so, letting her press their lips together again and again.

“You’re perfect,” she’ll whisper, pulling him close in the locker room after practice. She’ll run her hand through his sweaty hair and lift her face to his until all his senses go dark.

Kagami is great. Kagami is really great.

And Adrien… Adrien is…

He’s curled around a pillow on his bed for the fourth time this week, caught somewhere between nausea and dread. His homework is unfinished, piano pieces unrehearsed. A lock of hair is irritating his eye but he feels too detached from his body to do anything about it. He hates when he gets like this for a multitude of reasons, but mostly because it doesn’t make sense.

He’s been depressed before. He’s been dissociated before.

But this?

He thinks of Kagami’s lips, warm and sticky with lip gloss, moving against his mouth. He feels her mouth open, tilting to meet him at an angle, and her tongue—

Adrien’s whole body shudders involuntarily and he curls up tighter around the pillow, squeezing it for dear life. Awful. Awful. What’s wrong with him? It’s kissing his girlfriend, the most natural thing in the world. Why does it feel like—why does he feel like he’s dying?

When Adrien closes his eyes, he’s right back there again. Kagami’s firm hands on the back of his neck, holding onto him. Her spit warm in his mouth, the small noises in the back of her throat, the pit carved out like a chasm in his stomach—

“You look terrible.”

Plagg’s nasal voice jars him back to the present. When Adrien looks up, bright green eyes are squinting just centimeters from his face.

Plagg frowns. “Are you still sick? Wait, did you eat some of my moldy brie? You know I said not to touch it until May!”

Plagg zips away, into the cabinet under the trophy case. Adrien takes a shaky breath.

“I didn’t touch your cheese, Plagg.” He forces his fingers to unclench from the pillow and stashes the memory of Kagami’s lips under some rug in his brain. He’s fine. Everything’s fine.

Plagg phases back into view, breathing a sigh of relief. “Phew! That could’ve been disastrous!”

“Yeah.” Adrien sits up and clenches his fists hard, enough for his fingernails to dig into the skin of his palms. The pain wakes him up, brings him back. (It’s penance too, maybe. He needs to be better than this.)

“Maybe you really are sick, then.” Plagg flits around him, poking his nose into Adrien’s belly and armpit and hair and even trying to look in his ears. He pulls back and frowns, cocking his little head. “Geez, it’s been on and off like this for, like, a month. Shouldn’t you go to a doctor or something?”

Adrien adverts his eyes. “I don’t think a doctor would help.”

Not with… whatever this is.

“All I’m saying is, you look really bad. Like, really bad—”

“Thank you. Thanks.”

Adrien painstakingly swings his legs over the bed and puts his feet on the ground, manually shifting weight to each leg. Muscle by muscle, reminding his body how to stand. It’s easier once he’s up. Fog filters through his mind, and then he doesn’t think as much.

The sickness burns off in the shower, seared from his skin. Adrien emerges clean and good and normal and he puts on new clothes and blow-dries his hair. Ready for anything. Ready for—

Nathalie knocks twice on his bedroom door before opening it.

“Kagami is here,” she tells him. “Your dinner will be served shortly.”

read on ao3

[fantasylandloser]

Cuddle Buddies

pairing: rafe x reader

Summary: reader is afraid of storms and seeks out rafe one night

Word Count: 3.1K

A/N: Don't we all need a little soft Rafe for Valentines day

Warnings: mentions of sex, what is proofreading?, what is editing?, Ward bc he's a loser but he's not bad in this,

******

Staying with the Cameron family was like paradise. There was non moldy food, an entire library that you had access to and no financial stress. Ward only asked a few things of you and they were all doable. 

The only problem you’d had so far was Rafe. He hated having you and John B there and he made sure you knew it. And for some reason he paid extra special attention to making sure he gave you the most hell. Probably because John B was dating Sarah and you’d seen her go toe to toe with him before.

It’s mostly small annoyances. He’ll get in the shower before you get the chance and stay in there for an hour just to use up all the hot water. He would eat the yogurt that Rose would buy just for you, even though he didn’t like it. Sometimes he’d even blast his speakers with that god awful shit he calls music. But even though all of this inconveniences you, you still liked living here better than John B’s. 

You had only Your mom comes and goes as she pleased and eventually the bills became too much for you and you got evicted. You hadn’t seen her since and DCS had been on you and John B’s case at the same time. So when Ward offered you sanctuary you jumped at the chance and you try to do everything humanly possible to keep him pleased.

It was one of ten thousand reasons Rafe hated you so much. Everytime he turned around his dad would be praising you for being such a hard worker, such a smart girl, so sweet, so kind, so caring. It never stopped. Ward  had not offered Rafe a kind word in months, but had nothing but good things to say to you. And with that, you were a pogue. So Rafe was able to justify why he treated you the way he did for months. 

Today Ward had decided to take the whole family fishing and he wanted to welcome you and John B, even though he already had. Wheezie was reading a book. Sarah and John B were nowhere to be found. Rose was already drinking even though it was seven in the morning. Rafe was on a chair with his eyes closed, you knew he wasn’t sleeping though because every few minutes he would open his eyes, glance at you like he was waiting for something and then close them  back. You knew Ward would be coming out in a few minutes and you wanted to look useful so you got up to grab the bait. Almost as soon as you lifted the heavy cooler, Ward appeared.

 “Rafe!” He exclaimed. “What’re you doing, you see a girl lifting heavy stuff, you pick it up for her.” He threw his arms out gesturing to you. “I mean what do you do all that working out for? For show.” Ward scoffed, muttering “Jesus” under his breath. 

You see Rafe’s face visibly darken from being reprimanded. As he huffs out a sorry to his dad that he definitely didn’t look like he meant, as he got up to help you. He easily snatched the heavy cooler from you. “Try not to do that all day.” Rafe told you, his tone low. And even though you feel bad that you got him yelled at, you can’t help but return the attitude. 

“Do what?” You ask, your head jerking  back at his tone. Rafe rolled his eyes like you knew exactly what he was talking about.

“Pick up heavy shit when you see my dad coming. I don’t care what you’re trying to prove, but you’re getting in my way.” He tells you, his tone condescending. “The helpless act doesn’t work for pogue girls.” Rafe finishes, his attitude more prominent than before. You scoff at his audacity ready to go in on him, walking behind his muscular figure as he moves the bait.

“First of all, nobody is trying to be helpless. Second of all, if you weren’t always sitting on your ass then maybe he wouldn’t feel like he needed to say that to you.” You clapback, fully aware that he probably wasn’t going to let that slide.

You see the wild look in his eye when he turns to look at you, it makes you nervous because sometimes Rafe could truly be mean.  Luckily for you, Ward had called him and he had walked away.

******

You and Rafe hadn’t had any more unpleasant interactions for the rest of the day. Actively avoiding each other, to not cause trouble even though that was Rafe’s default. Ward had called it a day pretty early after learning that a storm was rolling in. and knowing he didn’t want to be in that kind of weather. 

By the time you got home, it had started raining heavily and everyone was off to do their own thing. You went up to your room and after taking a shower and cleaning up some, you allowed the rain to lull you to sleep. 

It was the middle of the night when you woke up again. The loud crack of thunder disturbing your sleep and your peace. Usually when it was thundering like this, JJ would stay with you until you fell asleep because he knew how scared you were of storms. But as of right now he was on the other side of the island and you’d have to be a crazy person to go out in that storm. When you checked your phone the clock read one a.m and you knew it would be a while before you fell back asleep. There was also a missed call and a text from JJ checking to see if you were alright. And you really weren’t. 

You didn’t know what it was about storms that got you but fear gripped you every single time, there was more than rain. You laid there for about thirty minutes, willing yourself to go back to sleep, but your attempts were a failure. After one particularly loud crack of lightning that appeared really close to you, you’d went to look for John B. But he wasn’t in his room and you knew that meant he was in Sarah’s. And you didn’t want to walk in there because who knew what they could be doing. 

Shamefully, you stood outside of Rafe’s door contemplating whether or not you were going to knock, before you heard lightning strike again. Without thinking you didn’t knock, just entering his room, knowing he would hate that. Only to see him sleeping peacefully in his bed. His covers lowered to his hips, and not a single thread of clothing present on his chest.

‘Rafe” You called, your voice hushed and almost a whisper. He stirred slightly but didn’t wake up, forcing you to call him again. He looked confused as he opened his eyes, blinking for a second. When his eyes finally focused on you. He groaned, rubbing his eyes. 

“What could you possibly want right now?” He asked groggily. 

You take a moment to swallow your pride, knowing there was an eighty percent chance that he kicked you out, and a ninety-eight percent chance that he held this over your head. 

“It’s storming.” You say dumbly. Rafe’s face scrunches up at your obvious statement. “Thanks for stating the obvious. “ He scoffs. “Get to the point, I’m tired.” He hurried you along.

“Can I sleep in here?” You whisper, your face heating up in embarrassment. 

Rafe almost laughed, as he prepared himself to say no, but when he looked at you in your cute pink pajamas and the way you were holding onto yourself. He’d always thought of himself as a protector, and obviously you thought so too if you came to him while you were scared. He knew he had to protect you, even if it was just from a stupid storm. 

Grumpily, he threw a pillow at you, and scooted closer to one side of the bed. “Stay on that side.” He tells you, closing his eyes back. You were shocked for a second, but you wordlessly climbed into the other side of his bed, trying not to further inconvenience him. Settling into his warm bed felt weird but also right, his bed was comfortable and it smelled like him, and even though you hated to admit it, Rafe smelled good. 

Your comfort only lasted for a minute before you were jumping at the sound of a branch hitting the window. Rafe groaned behind you, irritated. His arm circles around your waist and he yanks you closer to him, almost roughly. “Go. to. Sleep.” He punctuated. The weight of his arm pushing down into you. Comforting you, you realize. And before you know it, you allow yourself to be lulled to sleep, your breathing syncing up with Rafe’s.

******

Rafe and you had continued on with the regularly scheduled programming after that. Getting into dumb fights, him being petty all the time, but surprisingly never bringing up that night. When the next storm rolled around, and you knocked on his door. He wordlessly let you in and it had become a routine. Rafe even started to find himself looking forward to storming nights, even after arguing with you all day.He liked that you needed him to feel safe. No one had ever needed him before. 

The mornings had never been awkward; you'd wake up before him and leave because you were naturally an early riser and that was that. Until one particular morning, you had just been extra tired and happened to sleep later than usual. When you woke up you found your head buried on Rafe’s bare chest, which happened often and was another thing you didn’t talk about. His strong arm wrapped around your body holding you close to him, but none of that is why this was awkward. When you looked up Rafe was looking back at you. He was holding you and he was awake? He was holding you and he was conscious. He was holding you on purpose. 

He looked embarrassed to have been caught, and he was. He was just used to you already being gone when he woke up. He never got to see what you looked like when you were just laying there peacefully, not bitching, not being a kiss ass to his dad. Just sweet, and cute, a pretty girl that was laying on his chest. 

Rafe cleared his throat, letting you go as he saw the look on your face and realized how weird this was. “You snore.” He tells you, trying to deflect his embarrassment.

“No I don’t!” You scoff, rising up slightly. 

“Yeah you do.” Rafe laughs. “I thought you were choking.” He exaggerates, and you can’t help but think about how boyish he looks when he laughs. Not as calculating, or mean. 

“Whatever, I don’t snore.” You say rolling your eyes.

“Sure you don’t.”  A swift silence settles over you and Rafe is still smiling for a second. Until a knock comes to Rafe’s door, only for it to be pushed open a second later. 

“Rafe your Dad said-” Rose stops talking the minute she sees the two of you. Her eyes widen and you immediately know what it looks like. Rafe isn’t wearing a shirt, and you’re dressed in your shortest shorts, and sitting in between his legs. There’s no universe where this doesn’t look bad. It doesn’t help that both you and Rafe look like you got your hand caught in the cookie jar, faces reddening, and eyes widening and for some reason frozen.

“Oh..” Rose gasps. “I’m just gonna-” She blinks, obviously still shocked, especially with the way that the two of you stay at each other's throats. Without even saying anything else she simply closes the door leaving you two sitting there dumbfounded. 

******

“Okay guys…”Ward starts. “I called this family meeting because it has come to my attention that we need to talk about the rules in this house.” Your face reddens as Ward gives you a pointed look. John B and Sarah look confused, but Rose and Rafe look just as embarrassed as you feel. 

“I know you guys are attractive young adults living in the same house and that makes avoiding …temptation much harder.”  You sink into your chair, wishing a hole would swallow you up the more he continued to talk. “But I think you can do it. Now we’re all close here so I think I can speak honestly. Right?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before he continues on. 

“John B no more sneaking’ into Sarah’s room before seven a.m and I want you out of there by ten every night. You copy?” John B flushes lightly, thinking he’d been stealthy before nodding. Even though Sarah protested. “Dad, come onnn.” She whines. 

“That’s the end of it Sarah.” Ward dismisses, before looking at you and Rafe, much to your dismay. “Now I don’t know what the two of you have going on, and I’m not sure I want to know-” Sarah gasps loudly at this new information, only for Ward to raise his hand up quickly to silence her for a second. “I know you’re both old enough to make these decisions-” Rafe is radio silent and you were hoping he’d speak up so you didn’t have to. “But as of right now this is the house rule, no spending the night in each other's bed, unless you’re married.” He finishes.

“Mr. Cameron, it's really not like that.” You try your face flushing. “Me and Rafe are just-” Rafe clasps his hand over your mouth, much to everyone’s shock. “We hear you Dad. Loud and clear.” He says not wanting you to tell everyone that you’re cuddle buddies or whatever the fuck you were going to say which would have ranged on the same level of embarrassing for him. You look at him in shock, pushing his hand away, but not even bothering to further embarrass yourself. Rafe saw how mad you were though, your arms crossing over your chest, and you turning your legs away from him. He also couldn’t ignore the small pout that had possessed your full lips.

“Well okay, this has gotten weirder.” Ward said,  mostly to himself, while Rose nodded in agreement. “So how about we just remember the rules, and hopefully we’ll never have to talk about this again.” Ward proposed, trying to air out the awkwardness. Everyone nodded immediately which caused him to get up, wiping his hands off on his pants. 

“Come here, son. Let me talk to you really quick.” Ward gestured to Rafe. Rafe resisted groaning and followed behind him leaving you to the questioning looks of John B and Sarah. “Rafe? Really?” Sarah asked, laughing a little. 

“It’s not like that!” You exclaim, your face heating up. 

“It looked like it was like that this morning.” Rose joined in, much to your shock. John B joined the teasing with a gasp. “How scandalous!” Sarah was laughing so hard tears started to come out her eyes.

“Guys stop!” You say embarrassed, but not saying anything else because it seemed like Rafe didn’t want anyone to know.

“Okay fine. You’re no fun.” Rose tells you, picking her drink back up and sipping with a grin on her face, leading John B and Sarah to leave you alone as well.

****

You hadn’t even glanced at Rafe in three days. You were irritated with him for making it seem like you were doing what they thought you were doing. Sex. And he felt like he’d been paying for it. He liked having your attention. Even if you were arguing with him, rolling your eyes at something he said, anything really. So to be deprived of it for three days was driving him insane.

 He looked up the weather forecast at least six times a day, praying for a storm to roll through. When he finally got lucky and heard thunder crackle down, he was bouncing with anticipation, waiting for you to show up at his door. 

When you didn’t he went looking for you, only to be surprised that you weren’t in your room. He started to check everywhere. When he couldn’t find you he swallowed his pride and opened John B’s door to ask if he knew where you went, only to see you in there, in his favorite pajama set of yours, it was silk with cherries on it. You lay in between John B and Sarah, ironically watching a scary movie. 

Everyone’s eyes diverted to Rafe. Confused as to why he was standing at John B’s door, knowing he’d never gone near there since he started staying here. “It’s after ten.” Rafe points out. Feeling jealousy stirred at the fact that you went to someone else. 

“Dad approved since she’s scared of storms.” Sarah tells him, sticking her tongue out only for him to roll his eyes. He watches you and the way your eyes went back to the TV, continuing to ignore him. Rafe didn’t think he could take being ignored by you, while you were in another guy's bed, wearing his favorite pajamas, on a stormy night. Which were his nights. 

He entered the room standing at the edge of the bed, right in front of the TV, making John B groan. He’s shirtless, it was the first thing you noticed when he opened the door. Only clad in plaid pajama pants. 

“You’re still ignoring me?” He asks, only for you to not say anything back. He hated that. It was one thing to ignore him when you were by yourselves, but it was an entire different thing to ignore him in front of other people. Especially when your relationship was so weird. Nothing spoken on, or reassured. 

“M’sorry, okay?” He mumbles. Embarrassed he had to humble himself in front of idiots like John B and his sister. This piqued your attention, never hearing Rafe apologize before, your eyes meeting his. You’re shocked. 

“Come on, don’t you think they wanna be alone.” He tried guilting.

“We’d love to be alone.” John B weighed in, leading Sarah to reach over you and smack his chest. He winced. 

When you didn’t say anything, Rafe got impatient pulling your leg, so that he could reach the rest of you better, as the rest of your body reached the edge of the bed. 

“Rafe!” You exclaimed. Surprised by the fast motion of it. He didn’t say anything, he just hoisted you over his shoulder. “We’ll talk about it in my room.” He said, not wanting to let his sister, and her loser boyfriend in anymore of his business. But truthfully you didn’t need to talk about it, because this was the first time he’d ever come to you. All was forgiven the moment you’d seen him at the door.

[xreaderbooks]

Habits

Pair: JJ Maybank x Reader

Summary: Based on THIS request; Y/n's so used to taking care of everyone else, the consequences of her actions finally catch up to her, and JJ is there to pick up the pieces.

Warnings: Language, illness (not covid)

Word Count: 2.7k

Links: Wattpad - AO3

JJ Maybank Masterlist - Navigation

JJ was known to be dramatic, and overly, not to mention when someone was sick. Heaven forbid someone got near him when they were with the flu. Everyone thought it was weird since he had a bad habit of eating expired, moldy food and filled his lungs with unhealthy substances- weed not included.

He warned you against taking care of Kie who had gotten a cold, then Sarah who had gotten it from the former, you’re luck had run out by the fourth day you had John B on bed rest. Pope had kept a safe distance so he was in the clear. He’d been the one who had told JJ of your current state.

You should have taken greater precautions, worn gloves, not gotten as close, and not slept over at every sick person's house to make sure they were okay.

Your bad habit was taking care of your friends and forgetting to take care of yourself in the process. Not that you minded, they needed you and you were happy to provide. They were your friends, after all, they were all you had and you were all they had. Your parents don’t care where you are or who you’re with, never did- that gave you the freedom to do anything you wanted.

It also meant you had to learn how to take care of yourself and in doing that, you naturally started to take care of others.

The pogues depended on you, you kept them fed; kept snacks in a bag that you brought with you everywhere, you always kept an extra shirt or two, and allergy medicine for that particular season. You didn’t exactly have the money for all that but you picked up a thing or two from JJ, they never knew all that you would do for them.

Ever since that fated day in kindergarten when you threw sand in a boy's eye to slow down his chase on John B, he grabbed your hand and ran with you until the teacher put a stop to the 5th grader's terror over the two of you. You took care of him and he took care of you, that was kind of a Pogue thing, something you took pride in.

This fever though, is not your finest moment.

Kie was on bed rest at her parent's house when you were taking care of her. Her parents were needed at the Wreck and couldn’t stay home with her so you did. Passed the time with gossip and movies, you forced medicine down her throat when she resisted, made sure she didn’t get out of bed because all she wanted to do was chill in the sun on the HMS. Her parents had strict orders, she felt guilty that she was barely ever home and helping with the restaurant so you worked her shifts when she was in the stages of getting better.

Sarah was the same except she was much needier, she missed John B and was whinier than Kie, cursed you out as if you were the one that got her sick, and then asked if you could spoon her cause she was lonely.

John B was worse. Way worse, so bad that next time he was sick you’d take your chances at your own house. He was a literal man child, if he was the first one that got sick you would have thought it was the plague from how he insisted he was dying from something worse than a cold.

Now because of the big baby who refused to take the medicine, accidentally sneezed one too many times without covering his nose, and who was still sick by the way- you were on your own deathbed. Pope passed by to see how the quarantine was going, John B was slowly recovering but still not considered alive and you appeared to be a walking zombie.

JJ was pissed, not that he would show how angry he was but he’ll definitely let it known how annoyed he was. He brought Tylenol, Benadryl, and NyQuill, and went to three different drug stores to get each without being suspicious in his dealings.

You were currently making two cups of noodle ramen, one for you and the other for John B. JJ placed the medicine on the counter, his hip leaning against the edge with his arms crossed, staring at you as you poured the soup into a bowl for John B.

“The hell are you doing?”

His voice made you jump with a small yelp, the rest of the hot soup splashing and burning the top of your hand. The pain went away in a second as you licked the droplets on your hand, you glared at him, clutching the blanket around your shoulders after putting a spoon in the bowl and heading to John B’s room.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” You shuffled your way to his room almost losing balance as you felt yourself get lightheaded. Your back was to him so you could see the way JJ reached out his hand as if giving you the strength to stand or to catch you if you did fall.

He shook his head and went to you, grabbing the bowl from your hands, “Give me that.”

“JJ, that isn’t for you!” You exhaled with a shaky breath.

He rolled his eyes, “I know.” He went into John B’s room, you heard his surprised voice at the sight of JJ in the quarantine zone. JJ was in and out in a second, shutting the door to your shared best friend’s room, he stood in front of you with a stern face and hands on his hips.

“Well?” He gave you an expectant look, you quirk your brow in question. “What are you waiting for? Get to bed.”

“What?” You stuttered. “But my soup!”

“I’ll bring it to you, you're officially now on bed rest,” He shooed you with his hands. “Go on, get. Better be under those covers when I get there.”

You huffed in annoyance but followed his orders, the bed did sound nice. You didn’t get a lot of rest in taking care of the others, you were like a mother hen all worried, they joked about how you would get sick of them one day. You never thought it would actually be true.

Your body shivered as you felt the coolness of the unused bed, you sat against the pillows with the comforter over your lap. Your head throbbed at holding the weight of your head, you wanted to lay down and sleep but your stomach growled at the thought of the noodles. You didn’t even have much of an appetite but you haven’t eaten since earlier this morning when you force-fed John B some toast.

JJ bursting through the door made you jump again, you winced “Can you move more… quietly?”

“My bad, Y/n/n.” He gently placed a tray with the soup and Gatorade, he knew you got thirsty when drinking something hot. He didn’t know if it was healthy or not, but he knew that even if you were drinking hot soup you wanted something cold. “Eat.”

You narrowed your eyes, “Thanks.” You picked up the spoon and began to sip.

“You’re done taking care of John B,” He softly shut the door behind him, leaning his back against it. He watched you pause halfway dipping your spoon back into the bowl, “Don’t give me that look, you’re sick.”

“So is John B-”

“He’ll be fine, I’ll be here and make sure you’re both alright, besides John B’s feeling better already.”

You give him a deadpanned look, “Give him a couple of hours, he’ll be telling you it’s his time for the third time today.”

“It’ll be your time if you let yourself waste away because you’re taking care of everyone else but yourself.” He sat on the edge of the bed by your thighs, he reached out his hand and brushed a stray hair behind your ear. “You can’t keep doing that, pretty girl.”

Your body shivered again though this time you weren’t sure what it was from, JJ or the fever. “If I don’t then who will, J?”

“They appreciate it, I know they do, alright but remember that one year when we had finals you were hella stressed and yet you were talking Pope down a ledge, volunteering with Kie cause you didn’t want her to do it alone when she asked and nobody wanted to, John B always needs your help with something-”

“Just sounds like your jealous,” Your face held a lazy smirk at the joke.

He clicked his tongue, “You take care of me too. A lot, that gets me to my point, you need a break. You reached that point, just like you did that year when you got physically sick because of how stressed we were making you.”

“This isn’t like last time, I just caught the cold, but I’m fine I just need to eat then I can make sure John B gets better.”

“I’ll make sure John B doesn’t die and I’ll take care of you.”

“You?” You almost want to laugh at the thought of JJ taking care of both you and John B, especially with his affliction with sickness but the increased pounding in your head prevented you.

“Shut up and eat your noodles.”

~~~

The rest of the day he doted on you, doted was too mild a term, full-on hovered over you. He kept you fed, reached things for you when he didn’t have to, he gave you a little bell for you to ring like he was your servant.

You fucked with him a little too much with it until he threatened to take it away but he came every time you rang. It made you hopeful, a little too hopeful, in a way that you shouldn’t of your best friend. Because that’s what this was, one best friend taking care of the other. He wanted you to be comfortable but not weirdly comfortable, and he was only taking care of you because he felt bad.

Then again you and JJ were never just normal best friends. You both had no boundaries when it came to one another, the line was never drawn and neither of you wanted to form one, perfectly complacent with the unsaid rule of being there for each other. You loved each other like family and respected each other like friends, but every touch had an underlying meaning that was better off not being unmasked.

Even now when your fever had you shivering like you were in Antarctica with JJ’s body heat on your back, his chest exuding a warmth that made you nuzzle further into him. You felt a little moisture coming from him, poor guy, you had him sweating from how hot it was. But internally you were freezing.

You groaned as you felt your body ache, the back of JJ’s hand went to your neck and your forehead, and he hissed.

“You’re hot, Y/n,” He put his weight on his forearm to hold himself up. He looked down on you like a golden angel and you briefly thought that you wouldn’t mind if the fever took you out.

You breathed out a chuckle, “Yeah, I know. Remind me when I actually feel like it.”

He rolled his eyes but smirked anyway, “Your temperature, Pretty girl.”

“Mm,” You turned your weak body to talk to him face-to-face without having to twist your neck. “Shut up and cuddle me.”

“You gotta actually take a nap this time though,” He strokes your cheek with his thumb. “You need to rest.”

“Sir, yes, sir-” You would’ve saluted but that meant moving your arm that felt way too heavy to lift at the moment. JJ turns to grab something from the nightstand and hands you a plastic shot cup, the one that comes on top of the medicine bottles.

“Drink this,” He hands you the tiny cup with the red liquid. “I thought you would like taking it this way so you could pretend you're taking a shot.”

Your heart melted at the sentiment and took it out of his hand, “Are you trying to drug me right now?”

“Probably the only time I’d do something like that but I’m willing to do it if it means you’ll feel better.”

“You’re annoying,” You drank it with one swallow, expecting it to taste worse than it actually did but the flavor he picked out made it sweet.

He placed a hand over his chest in mock hurt, “Is that any way to speak to your nurse?”

“The elderly people at the hospital would treat you way worse.”

“That’s why I’m only qualified to take care of you,” He bopped your nose and you scrunched it as his finger tapped lightly.

He settled down beside you after he took the empty cup out of your hands and set it aside, his hands traveled from your waist to your arm into your hair, playing with each strand on the top of your head.

You began to faintly trace the curves and angles on his face while trying not to think about how intimate this was, you were close, so close your noses were touching.

You wished your brain would stop thinking so you didn’t feel the need to break the silence, suddenly being hyperaware of the fact that while both of your legs were tangled in each other, bodies touching, fingers roaming- all the while intense eye contact was being made. “You’re going to get sick being this close to me.”

“I like being this close to you,” He whispered. “If I get sick, you’re worth it.”

“I don’t like when you say things like that,” You nibbled on your lip only slightly- another bad habit that you picked up on when you were nervous and felt awkward. His fingers untangled themselves from your hair and you regretted speaking but it was how you felt. Him saying things like that made it feel like this was more than what it was and you knew better than that.

His eyes flickered from where your teeth were caught on your lip, his thumb pulled it with his index curved under your chin. “Why?”

“Because,” Your breath shuddered.

“Because?” His ocean-blue eyes held yours and you were about to give it all up right then and there. You were sick, you weren’t in the right state of mind and you would never forgive yourself if you admitted your love for him right now and he rejected you while you already felt like you were dying.

You couldn’t handle looking at him anymore and began to move your body so that your back was facing him when you talked but his hand slipped onto your cheek and he pulled you into him, attaching his lips to yours.

He kissed you once, twice, and the third time felt like he was speaking a language that you understood all too well and you reciprocated. Your lips moved languidly with his, an natural movement that made your heart flutter through the fever that held you captive all day.

He pulled away giving you one last kiss, “I love you. I’m tired of pretending I don’t and that everything I do for you is just because we’re friends when we both know that it’s more, at least I hope it is because if not then what just happened made us a hell of a lot closer and definitely more awkward. I love you, and you don’t have to feel the same cause either way I will always always take care of you but I just needed you to know because I feel like friends or not, you forget that people care about you too. We care about you, and I love you.”

You blamed how sick you were feeling for the tears that threatened to spill out of your eyes from his confession, “God your such a sap.”

His panicked expression searched your face for any other sign of a reaction to the word he just spoke and you kissed him. You kissed him deeply and with the assurance that you hoped translated with the way your soft plump lips spoke on his. “I love you more, J.”

He brought you into his chest, cradling your head, your arms around his middle holding him tight. The distraction of his confession interrupted the thoughts of how frail your body felt but now it was coming back as his heartbeat thumped against your ear and your mind slowly drifted into sleep.

“JJ?”

He hummed in response.

“Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Anytime, baby,” He squeezed you gently. “Now go to sleep.”

[hypnoneghoul]

@xxwhiskeyxx

Pull Me Down Again

WC: 2,7K

Relationship: Swiss & Mountain

Tags: Soft anal sex, first time, love confessions, fluffy smut

“I’d love to help, but your first time has to be special, so if you don’t want to have it with me, I underst–”

“NO! No, please, I’d never want it to be anyone else, I want you. Please, Mountain."

Notes: Swissalps' first time is not a topic I fool around about. I couldn't do it half-assed, so here's nearly 3k words of them being stupid and cute and in love and fucking about it

Read under the cut or on AO3.

Swiss had always been a lot. He had crawled out of the summoning circle uninvited—with a toothy grin and fiery eyes—but he had fitted right in and everyone had loved him right away. He’d loved them all, too, but his eyes had been fixed on one specific ghoul from the very beginning.

Mountain. The moment he’d seen the giant standing over him in the humid and moldy ritual chamber, stoic, but obviously ready to pounce if the new ghoul would decide to attack any of his packmates or Papa. Swiss hadn’t, of course, but when he thought back to that moment, he knew that even if he did have such plans, Mountain’s look alone would stop him.

He had been truly scary in that moment, but Swiss had immediately felt something else about him, too. Something the multi ghoul would recognize as the feeling of safe and home, if he had ever known them in the Pit.

When Swiss had gotten up—he had stayed down until the two ghoulettes who’s summoning he hijacked had left with the pack, not wanting to risk looking like a threat in any way—he’d swayed and stumbled on his feet, and had fallen right into the giant’s arms. He’d tensed, afraid, but Mountain’s touch was gentle. Something Swiss had never experienced before.

The earth ghoul’s face had finally softened and he’d smiled down at the slightly dumbfounded ghoul as he’d scooped him up. Swiss wasn’t especially big, nearly a runt in his old pack in the Pit—though most of the ghoul’s he had just seen were even smaller—but he wasn’t small either, and Mountain had picked him up like he weighed nothing.

“Welcome Topside,” Mountain had rumbled and Swiss felt something warm bloom in his chest.

Months later, Swiss was completely and utterly in love. So enchanted by the earth ghoul that he lost any and all composure every time he and Mountain would be in the same room. He was just perfect, so smart and beautiful and strong and gentle and–

“Hey, Swiss, you there?” a voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Mountain’s voice.

“Yeah, uhm, h– hi,” he squeaked, cheeks burning. The earth ghoul chuckled at his fluster as he flopped down onto the couch next to Swiss. So close their thighs ended up touching and the multi ghoul’s gut twisted.

(Mountain knew exactly how stupid Swiss was about him and truth be told he was no better. The only thing he was better at was acting and not being so obvious. There was an unspoken rule amongst the ghoul’s to not offer any new summons to join the pack’s sexual and romantic dynamics until they properly settled Topside. Usually three-four months was safe, and for Swiss it had been five. Mountain was irrevocably in love with him and he didn’t want to wait anymore.)

“Any plans for the evening, darling?” the earth ghoul asked and watched Swiss’ blush get impossibly deeper in real time.

He swallowed thickly, “D– darling?”

“Not good? I just felt like it fits.”

“No, it’s– it’s nice,” Swiss mumbled and Mountain grinned. 

“Well, then?”

“Then… what?”

The earth ghoul laughed, “I asked you if you had any plans for the evening.”

“OH, oh, yeah, right, you did.” Swiss’ ears drooped and he hung his head, suddenly very interested in a certain loose thread on his jeans. “No plans.”

“In that case, would you like to spend it with me?” Mountain put a hand on the other’s thigh and the multi ghoul jumped, heat flooding him.

“Y– yeah, yes, sure,” Swiss sputtered, looking up at him to send him a little smile.

Mountain squeezed his thigh before letting go and getting up. “See you later, then. It’s a date.”

The next few hours were a torture. Swiss was anxious—terrified, really—but excited. He had no idea what Mountain would want to do with him, but he knew he’d fuck it up somehow. He didn’t know what a date really meant, so he looked it up on that tiny touchy device he was given, and the results terrified him even more. Dates were for people in love and a lot of times ended up in sex. Was that Mountain’s way of saying he did like him and maybe–

Now, Swiss knew what sex was, but he never had a chance to… participate in the act. There’s no breeding or mating opportunities for multi ghoul runts down in the Pit. He knew the feeling—roughly—he did know how to get off, relieve some pressure and pent up energy, but actual sex? With Mountain?

He came to a conclusion he’d simply die.

The earth ghoul hadn’t given him a specific time or place for when and where they should meet, so Swiss prepared himself mentally pretty early, and waited for a sign he should move. It came in a form of a text message and the multi ghoul nearly jumped out of his skin when his silly device buzzed in his pocket. Mountain told him to meet him by his room in five. Clear request, Swiss could do that.

Those five minutes were probably the longest in Swiss’ entire life, but finally he made it to the earth ghoul’s room. Mountain opened the door and his knees buckled. “Been waiting for you, darling.”

“Hi,” Swiss mumbled and dropped his eyes to the floor, the sight of Mountain in a shirt too much for him to handle. He let him in and prompted him to sit on the edge of his bed.

Swiss thought Mountain started talking, but he was too busy staring at him and taking him whole in to pay attention to what was falling from his perfect, full lips, looking so soft.

“...wiss, hey, Swiss, are you okay?” the earth ghoul waved an elegant, long fingered hand right in front of his face to snap him back to reality. Mountain’s brows were furrowed with honest worry. Swiss must’ve really spaced out.

Suddenly he couldn’t bear to wait any longer.

“You are so fucking gorgeous and smart and kind and I can’t not think about you all the time and you turn me into putty of a flustered mess and I think I’m in love with– no, I know I’m in love and you and it’s so bad it hurts and–”

Mountain stopped him with a finger placed over his lips, grinning with a glint in his eyes that couldn’t have been described with any different word than mischievous. Swiss stared at him with wide eyes, face burning after that bout of bravery.

“I think I’m in love with you, too, darling,” the earth ghoul purred, taking his finger off of Swiss’ lips and cupping his face with his hand instead.

“Thank fuck,” Swiss breathed out with a chuckle as relief washed over him. Mountain scooted closer, their legs now touching.

“May I?” he asked and Swiss remembered that.

“I– I’ve never…” he mumbled, “don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“I could never be disappointed with you. I’ll teach you everything, if you’ll let me.”

“Please, Mountain. Please do.” The earth ghoul smiled and leaned in, cupping the back of Swiss’ head with his free hand and pressing their lips together. Swiss let out a sweet little nose when they met, melting into the kiss and Mountain’s arms. Feeling nothing but contentement from the multi ghoul, he deepened the kiss, slowly exploring him.

Neither of them knew if they made out like that—all lovely and gently—for ten minutes or an hour. At some point Swiss ended up laid out on the plush bed with Mountain hovering over him as he peppered the multi ghoul’s face with kisses, making him giggle like a teenage girl. Nothing was rushed, they enjoyed just feeling each other and kissing until they were breathless, only to move to kissing the other somewhere else. It was perfect.

Until Swiss got anxious. He tensed when he felt something low in his gut stirring, afraid that it was still not what Mountain would want from him, that he’d mess up their good time by popping a boner. The earth ghoul felt his sudden hesitation. He pulled away. “Everything okay, darling?”

“Yeah, I just– I don’t want my body to ruin it,” he mumbled, embarrassed.

“What do you mean– oh.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, you’re really hot and I’ve been literally dreaming about this and I’m a dumbass who can’t control–”

“It’s okay.” Mountain stopped his rambling again, this time with a kiss. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, we can proceed however you want. We can pause so you can take care of it on your own… or I can help you.”

Swiss stammered, “W– would you? But I’ve never…”

“I would, I’d love to,” the earth ghoul assured, “but your first time has to be special, so if you don’t want to have it with me, I underst–”

“NO! No, please, I’d never want it to be anyone else, I want you. Please, Mountain, I want it to be you,” Swiss pleaded, clinging to Mountain’s shoulder with an iron grip. Once he realized he was doing it he let go, not wanting to hurt him.

“Okay,” he huffed with a smile, “okay, darling, we can do that. I’m honored, but are you absolutely sure?”

Swiss nodded frantically, “Yes, yes, yes.”

Mountain leaned down to kiss him once more before pulling away to unbutton his shirt. The multi ghoul’s mouth fell open as more and more skin was revealed and Mountain smirked. He wasn’t vain, but he wouldn’t lie and say Swiss’ reactions didn’t fuel some weird fire inside him.

“Like what you see, don’t you, darling?”

“Uh-uh.”

The earth ghoul chuckled at his sophisticated response and threw the shirt completely off. “Your turn.”

Swiss snapped out of his trance—but didn’t take his eyes off of Mountain—and with shaky fingers tried to take care of his own shirt. He was too shaky, though, and failed miserably on the buttons. After a few moments of watching his struggle intently, the earth ghoul batted his hands away and opened his shirt for him. Meanwhile, Swiss looked as if drool would start trailing down his chin any moment.

Soon enough—but not as soon as it could’ve been—they were both naked and now Swiss actually was drooling at the sight of the earth ghoul’s beautiful cock. He was also anxious, intimidated by its size.

As he was staring at his dick, Mountain was warming up lube between his fingers. He was kneeling between Swiss’ legs, calves on Mountain’s thighs, nicely spread and waiting. He may have been a blushing virgin, but at that point he was so focused on the earth ghoul he couldn’t care less about being exposed. For the first time ever like this.

“Ready?” he asked. Swiss nodded frantically, but Mountain only tutted. “Words, darling.”

“Yes, yes, fuck, please,” he begged as he bent his legs and opened them further.

The other smiled, leaned down to kiss Swiss’ knee and brought his hand to his hole. With his eyes locked on the multi ghoul’s own to watch out for any signs of discomfort, Mountain pressed a finger in.

“Oh,” Swiss huffed. “That’s… weird, but nice.”

“You’ve never even put anything up here?”

“N– n–oh,” he broke off into a moan when Mountain crooked his fingers and hit his prostate. “Just a– a quick handy now and t– then.”

The earth ghoul hummed in acknowledgement and continued slowly working him open, his free hand smoothing up and down Swiss’ thigh soothingly.

He was floating. He had no idea that sex was all that. He knew the concept, but only from the Pit, where everything was about survival. Sex there was quick and feral and rarely about pleasure. This? This was as close to heaven as any ghoul could ever get.

The multi ghoul zoned out a bit, drowning in love that Mountain was showering him in. He had never before felt so… important.

Mountain squeezed his thigh assuringly as he pulled his fingers out. (When did he get four in there?) “Swiss, are you with me? I need you to listen for me now, okay?”

“Uh-uh… yeah.”

“This is the part where I… put it in. Are you still down, are you sure? I can and will stop at any moment if you need me to, but there’s no going back once that line is crossed,” he explained and while normally it would sound painfully patronizing, Swiss felt nothing but kindness and caring from Mountain.

“I trust you, Mountain,” the multi ghoul said, trying to sound as coherent as possible for that one moment. “I want you and I’m sure of it. I am in love with you.”

“Okay,” he muttered and rose on his knees, moving to hover over Swiss. One hand next to his head, the other on his hip, holding protectively but not possessively. Not yet.

Mountain kissed him and guided his cock to Swiss’ ass.

“I love you,” he whispered against his lips and pushed in. The multi ghoul moaned into Mountain’s mouth as he kept going deeper and deeper, Swiss’ legs wrapped around his middle, until his hips were flush against the other’s. “Okay?”

“S– so, so okay,” Swiss breathed out. “But, uhm… I don’t think it's gonna be a long ride.”

Mountain chuckled, giving the other a moment to adjust, “Me neither, darling, but it doesn’t matter. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

“You gonna fuck me on every surface Topside in that time?”

“Probably. If you’re good I may let you fuck me, too.”

“That’s a good– fuck, incentive,” the multi ghoul giggled, making Mountain laugh at him, too. “Can we, uh, can you move now? Please?”

Mountain nodded and slowly pulled out, just to push back in with a bit more purpose, but equal amounts of gentleness. Swiss moaned, all fucked out, and the earth ghoul took it as a good sign. He picked up a slow but solid rhythm, hitting the other’s prostate with every thrust, causing waves of pleasure to wash over him.

As for Mountain himself, he was barely holding onto his sanity. Swiss was so tight, wet and warm, it was pure bliss. He’d never let himself lose composure in such a moment, but he knew for sure there would be a time he’d fuck the multi ghoul into a true mess.

“M– Mountain, I– I’m– I’m gonna–”

“That’s okay. It’s alright, darling,” he assured, speeding up just a little bit. Swiss hooked his arms around the earth ghoul’s neck and brought him down for a desperate, borderline filthy kiss. Mountain brought a hand to cup his face to return it, albeit a little gentler than Swiss did. “Are you gonna come for me, hm?”

“Yes– fuck,” he whined loudly. “Please, and– and you… in, Mountain, please.”

“Mhm,” Mountain hummed and doubled down on pushing Swiss to the brink of his orgasm. It didn’t take much—barely a few thrusts—before the multi ghoul was going rigid in his arms, clenching around his cock and spilling white between them with a pretty little noise falling from his lips. “There we go, my darling. My sweet darling.”

He was beyond words in the throes of the best orgasm of his entire life. Mountain didn’t need much more to come himself, but a bolt of anxiety shot through him at the sight of tears in Swiss' eyes. He never prayed for anything before, but at that moment he was praying that it was good tears.

“Swiss? Swiss, darling, are you okay?” he asked as soon as he saw some brain return to the multi ghoul as they were coming down.

“Yeah, no, it’s good. So good,” he said, all breathless. “It’s just… I’ve never… I wasn’t ever anyone’s anything, much less someone’s darling.”

Mountain smiled, relieved. “I love you, my heart,” he whispered into Swiss’ lips, following it with a kiss between his horns.

“Your heart, now, hm?” the multi ghoul hummed, half-asleep under him already.

“Yeah. Yeah, you are.”

[ataraxiaspainting]

The End.

Yan Kafka x F Reader.

Synopsis: Kafka always sits in the front row, despite being part of the show herself.

Warnings: Yandere themes, stalking, thoughts of violence, manipulation, and unhealthy relationships.

Word Count: 1k.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

Breezeblocks by alt-J

Waltz No. 2 by Dmitri Shostakovich (feat. The Dixie String Quartet)

Swan Lake by HAUSER

Claus by Los Tres

Doin’ Time by Lana Del Ray

Lie by BTS

She’s My Collar by Gorillaz (feat. Kali Uchis)

Cha Cha by Freddie Dredd

Michelle by Sir Chloe

MONTERO (Call Me By Your Name) - SATAN’S EXTENDED VERSION by Lil Nas X

*~*~*~*

The roses are wilting.

It was destiny, fate. Such pretty things never last forever, after all, even if the entire universe wished otherwise. One way or another, they are meant to fall, like how the sun drops below where anyone can see it, being replaced with the moon, and vice versa. They fall deep, deeper than hell itself, and no one can pick them back up, unless one would be inclined to make a pact with the devil himself, doing horrendous things in his name. But Kafka has already committed such sins, so why deny doing so any longer? It is who she is. It is who you are, to be entangled in her lies and be forced to dance and to sing and to act.

With two gloved hands, she picks up the vase, spilling out the moldy water and the dying roses, the roses she got for you after you sang so well at the opera house, looking so beautiful, into the trash can underneath your makeup vanity, where little clumps of hair and emptied products always meet their end.

She’ll get you a new bouquet later. A new vase too. Perhaps instead of white roses you would like red ones instead? Kafka knows that this vase is cheap too, from one of your fellow divas, whose high notes are not as high as yours and her costumes not as elaborate or as elegant as yours.

“I honestly don’t see why you even try to befriend any of them, darling. They are all envious harpies. They can’t hold a candle to anything you do.”

You are not here, but Kafka’s mouth always has a mind of its own, so it spins lies even when your delicate, lovely ears are not in the general vicinity. Not that she minds it. But yours is what she is quite more so than trifles with, because yours is carefully controlled by her and her alone, and you, as always, don’t get a say. It’s a sort of hypocrisy, Kafka thinks, but she doesn't mind that either.

If she has to, she’ll even sew your mouth shut, your ears shut, your eyes shut, if that is what it takes for you to stay with her. She doubts it would ever come to that, though, because you are always too fragile and too trusting to tell the difference between an Iago and a Desdemona. But the latter role would much better suit you, her little flower, her princess.

You are so precious, but also a treasure prying eyes will always want to touch and see and hear. Kafka would, in all honesty, love to cut their hands and tongues off, if it did not ruin the carefully crafted image she made just for you. Maybe later, though, when all the stage lights are off.

“Lady Macbeth, hmm?” She murmurs.

She disagrees with the role you were given entirely. But, you were not one to stand up for yourself, so Kafka let it go. 

“You really ought to leave this business soon, dearest.” Kafka looks around, her arms crossed, not impressed with the room you were given in the slightest. “You can always just come with me.” She meant it. “Imagine all the sights you would see. All the food you would eat. All the gifts I would be so happy to give you. All the hugs and kisses you would receive from me. Everything… just think about it.”

She could imagine it herself. It is not hard, really, for the mind to reject all sense of logic and bow down to the whim of what is known as human emotions, mortal joys, woes, desires, wants, and needs. She could imagine sitting you on her lap as the ship jumps to the next world she will have to visit, telling you stories of the past, present, and future, as you look on with amazement. You don’t do that anymore, now. She would do anything to see it come back. She would steal a crown and place it on your head, though you having the genuine article does not make you any stronger. If anything, perhaps it would make you weaker to her whims.

“Imagine that…” She sighs, closing her eyes as she smiles. “We can go to Penacony. Your dreams would come true there if I cannot make them true myself. You can sleep on beds worth more than this entire opera house. If only you would let me. I know it would make you happy. I know it would make me happy. So why wouldn’t it make you?”

She would listen to your ultimate pains, and your ultimate wishes, and act accordingly. She loved you. You will too, again. It is only a matter of time, isn’t it? Yes, Kafka thinks, it is fate. 

…

Kafka always sits in the front row of the theater.

It does not matter whether or not she purchased the tickets for it, the seat, or the show soon to come to fruition. No one dares talk back to her, even security. She finds comfort in that. No one gets in the way of her having the chance to see you. Better yet, no one else sits in the front row when she is present.

So, she watches, one of her legs crossed over the other, her eyes never blinking. During interludes she likes to adjust her makeup accordingly, painting on another shade of crimson to her lips. Art comes in many forms, after all.

Kafka told you that once. As always, you listened dutifully as she taught you to be.

She taught you many things, not just that. She taught you how to read constellations. She helped you learn her vocabulary in the books she gave you, often long fairytales or poems. She preferred it that way when you used to be so eager to have someone be friendly to you and not want to simply use you for their own amusement, not wanting to throw you out of the opera house altogether.

The opera house may rot after it goes up in flames, in the future, if things go her way as it always does, but she’ll stay to watch it all, to take you in as you cry and as she shushes you. She’ll be happy. Maybe you will be too, for her. It matters how good your performance is, if you even want to act anymore, after all.

The lights dim, and she shows her pearl-white teeth as she grins.

[spurbleu]

ohhhh i get it. frankenstien ghoap x scientist reader. the body horror. monster fucking. anyway.

lighthouse town. small minded folk with no where to put their spite. it shores on a grey bank, carving the cliff that shadows the swells. storm rolls in from the east, fat quills of pigeon grey rising from behind the sea.

you avoid looking out window- childish belief that as long as you don’t see it, it’s not there. candle in place of the nightlight you’d lost to nostalgia.

no one visits- generational stagnancy, bred mediocrity. no one and nothing is a stranger.

however.

there is a trail, hastily made to avoid the haunts. leads grief to a large patch of land, moldy greystone looming over six feet, haphazard and unmarked. said to be a gravesite for the unrest- the soldiers that fought for this poor, sullen land.

how disappointed they would be, if they saw it now.

you’d put a hard wall over the woods. swearing to your anxious mother, kneading the dough a little rougher when you picked wildflowers by the treeline, that you would never walk down that trail. that you’d bury them in the cemetery like a good daughter.

you kept one of the promises.

you broke the other three months ago, lantern keeping the soil warm as you fed the woods you plea. let me not die a failure. let me accomplish a life that is larger than my own.

silent. enough to make the swallow of your bread, your mothers last batch, heavy in your throat. weight in your belly. shrivels and molds.

just like the poor bastards you lugged in yarn bags back to your cabin.

and finally, sitting on your iron cot, two pairs of eyes, milked over and sodden, skin grafted and patchwork limbs. unfortunate looking creatures.

your wish, granted. albeit, less alive than you had hoped.

or, so you thought, until one of them fucking speaks.

“think ay got onea yer arms, LT.”