#two things that are physically impossible for me to watch without crying:

[owldee]

didn’t get to tell this story on tumblr yet but i was lucky enough to get to see nimona early at a special screening + q&a with nd, the directors and producers…and when i got to talk with nate after i told him the movie made me cry nearly 10 times and he was just like “ah yes, i love inflicting emotional damage” and i was like “yeah I’VE NOTICED”

[sincerelybubbles]

pairing: spencer reid x reader

word count: 603

warnings: angst :(

part two

it wasn't meant to be this way.

when you and spencer started dating, the honeymoon phase dripped into day-to-day life and activities, an easy transition that left you comfortable, happy, and (as you're now noticing) incredibly vulnerable.

"you can't act like my job, my life and hobbies and interests, are less important than what you do," you say, voice wet with tears.

spencer, frustrated, drags his hands through his hair, making it stand up straight, "my job objectively is!" he counters, loud, annoyed.

"sure, i'll give you that. whatever, that's not the point and you know it."

"i don't! i don't know the point because you don't have one. you just don't want to end the argument and not be right. you're impossible."

"this! this is the point," you say, gesturing between the two of you. you're both upset: you're on the verge of tears, he's disheveled from pacing and messing with his hair.

and still, you love him. you sort of hate that you do - he's being a dick, he can't see how he's hurting you, and he won't make any effort to see your side of the argument. but you love him, so much that your belly hurts with it.

"you don't listen when i come to you with things that are bothering me," you say, reaching forward to grab his arm as if the physical contact might make your point come across better. you can see in his face that he's gearing up to say something else and interrupt him before he can say anything. "all i said was that i didn't feel like you prioritized me and my life and you're the one who made it into work and hobbies.

"i can't sit here and constantly feel inferior. i know your job is important, i know you're saving lives. i don't say anything when i don't see you for weeks at a time, i don't say anything when you have to leave the second the phone rings, and i certainly haven't ever said anything to indicate that i think I'm somehow more important than all of that.

"all i'm asking is that you don't make me sit here and wonder why you're suddenly not making the effort you've had no problem making for the past 3 years and i'm begging you to stop making me feel like i'm crazy when i come to you with this shit!"

"maybe you feel crazy because you're acting crazy, blowing something up into nothing," spencer says, shaking his head at you. he tugs his arm away, taking a step back. "i'm done with this. i can't, i'm too busy to deal with you right now."

"deal with me?" you ask, anger flashing hot in your chest and racing away any tears that might have been ready to fall. "i'm not an item to check off of your to-do list, spencer."

"i can't do this right now," he sighs, turning away and pushing his hands through his hair one last time. he hesitates, back to you and head hung low, before adjusting his watch and walking away.

stunned, you listen as your front door opens and then clicks shut. you wait for him to come back, transform into your sweet boyfriend who would do anything to make sure you're happy. the doting man who spent his time memorizing everything about you so every date would be perfect, who always made time for you despite his job, who made you feel heard and important.

but you stand there, alone, for several minutes without any sign of him. mind racing, you fight the urge to cry.

damn wtf i made myself sad. sorry! hope u enjoyed :)

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 8b: Last Night

From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series

Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader

Summary: It’s Bucky’s last night on your farm

Word count: 2,645

Content/warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY, SMUT, p in v protected sex, crying during sex (well technically after), dry humping, vaginal fingering, sweet soft intimacy, kissing

Author’s Note: This could probably be read as a stand-alone, but I’ll catch you up in case you feel confused. Bucky made a business deal to work on your farm for a month. This is the last afternoon/night of that after spending all that time side-by-side. If you’re interested in the series, you can catch up with the link below or check out the rest of the Outta Nowhere AU

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

< Prev | Series Masterlist | Next >

On the final Saturday that Bucky was at the farm, the two of you practically stayed pressed together. It’s not as if you were unproductive, but you were glued at the hip, never leaving the office for too long without the other under the guise of tying up loose business ends before his departure. You knew once he was gone, he’d have to take all his burdens back off Steve, leaving him swamped with work, unable to pay you any more attention than he did his other associates.

With your efficiency and his inability to say no to you, all ‘work’ had been completed before noon. Sure, you could’ve dragged it out, but then you wouldn’t have had time to just enjoy each other’s presence like you had gotten used to. Before that could happen, though, you presented him with one last task.

Bucky sat on your oversized desk chair with you in between his legs. His chin was tucked over your shoulder as he rubbed up and down your thigh with his ringed hand. The cool metal gave you goosebumps on your bare skin, the nice weather allowing you to wear shorts and the lack of physical labor giving Bucky the opportunity to don his jewelry once again. You ignored the way your body shuddered at his touch, instead looking back at him over your shoulder with a smirk.

“Okay, cowboy. I think we’ve got your first few months of shipments all planned, so now onto my last order of business.”

He cocked his head to look at you with an amused, but tentative smile. “And what might that be?”

“Pull out a pen.” You stood up and shuffled the papers on your desk, looking for a blank one and setting it in front of him. You took a seat on the other side, not missing his slight pout and confusion as to why you moved so far and what was going on.

“Now that we’ve reached the end of the month, I want to assess what you’ve learned. I’m gonna shoot questions at you, and you write your answer so we can determine whether or not you actually took in information or just followed me around and mooched off my free meals.”

Bucky laughed when you shot him a wink and happily obliged you, a sparkle in his eyes, admiring the way you were demanding something of him with a sweet smile on your face, just like the first time you met. He gave a slight nod, pen at the ready. “Alright, sweet Honeybee. Hit me with it.”

You crossed your arms and legs, watching him as you rattled everything off you could think of, from super obvious things, like which animal lays eggs, to asking nearly impossible things, like the brand of feed given to the dairy cows. Bucky’s reactions to each question were a treat, some causing him to light up with knowledge, others making him roll his eyes at your specificity.

“Last question. This one’s worth a thousand points. Write something you think will impress me. Something out of the blue, whatever’s on your mind. Anything at all.”

Bucky sat there for a moment, tapping the cap of the pen against his bottom lip in thought. You watched his playful features morph into something serious, something soft, as he scribbled one line at the bottom of the paper.

‘I wish I could stay here longer.’

You leaned forward so could read his paper upside down, scanning the answers, each one surprisingly correct. Not a single one was off and he even put more information than you’d asked for on some of them. You were not only amazed with the way he indulged your ridiculous request, but with how this whole time, he had actually been listening and watching, holding onto every word and fulfilling his side of the deal.

As you looked up from the paper and into his eyes, you could feel the warmth through his gaze even that far apart. You stood up again and Bucky did the same, coming around to meet you. It was as if your bodies were magnetic, drawing you towards each other until his one hand was on your cheek, the other wrapped around your waist as yours perched on his hips.

His eyes shifted between yours and he closed his eyes, drawing his forehead against yours before he spoke against your lips. “I’m serious. I love every moment with you. And I’m sorry it’ll have to end.”

You swallowed and let your eyes flutter closed as you leaned into his touch and nodded. “I know. But I get that you have work to do and it was already a lot for me to request you being here for so long. But just…for right now, be with me. Enjoy what little time is left of this with me. Please.” It came out as a whisper, a plea for him to remain present while he still could. You opened your eyes and looked up through your lashes to see him searching for your gaze.

He whispered back, “You don’t have to ask me twice. Say the word and it’s yours. I’m yours. And I’ll be right there if you ever need anything. Whatever you want, Honey. And right now, I’m here with you. I only want to be… with you.”

Your eyes closed again and you nestled into his chest in satisfaction at the depth of his words. You knew he was saying he would be present, but it meant so much more. For him to make a promise like that, extending beyond just business, made you feel supported, protected, embraced.

He pulled you closer if that was even possible and pressed his lips to your hairline, then using his hand against your cheek, he pulled your head so you were both leaning back enough that your gazes met before he smashed his lips against yours. It was with purpose and a new sort of urgency that you hadn’t really experienced in the slower kisses and pecks you had shared. You began to walk backwards and Bucky followed, lips attached to yours in a near-lock as your tongues danced, not unlike your feet, performing similarly to the two-step you had taught him weeks before. Your hands slid up a down his chest and began to pop open the buttons of his flannel shirt as his ran under yours, feeling the softness of your belly and tracing upwards, raising the hem of your shirt as his callused fingertips sent a thrill through you.

The two of you removed your clothing piece by piece, discarding them carelessly as you crossed through the living room and waltzed carefully up the steps, grateful Peter was out of the house for the day and helping Curtis with the weekend chores.

Clad only in underwear, you grabbed Bucky’s hand and pulled him towards your room, falling down on the bed as he crawled over you. His lips met yours once again as you widened your legs, allowing his hips to grind on your core. Your gasp at the sensation allowed Bucky’s tongue to explore your mouth, swallowing down each other’s moans and drawing closer and closer. Bucky pulled away for a second to catch his breath, the both of you looking deeply into the other’s eyes and panting.

His fingers traced down your side to play with the hem of your cotton panties, and you nodded, wordlessly giving him the permission he needed to pull them down. Bucky groaned at the sight of the damp fabric as he dragged the material down your legs, kissing back up your body and stoping to lovingly lick and nip at your neck as you whined and writhed for some sort of friction again.

“Jamie, please.”

He smiled and sighed at the way you begged for his touch, not used to being the one in control of anything since he’d been here, and now holding your pleasure in his hands. His fingers reached down to find your clit, dipping towards your entrance first to gather your arousal before making slow, teasing circles on the sensitive button. His soft touch set your body on fire. It had been so long since you’d been this intimate with anyone, all of your focus on the farm, and the exhaustion after a long week, not to mention the hurt from Jake deterring you from the desire for a partner.

“I’m here, I’m with you, Honey. I’ve got you-give you whatever you want. Just wanna make you feel good.”

Sensing your sensitivity and deducing how long it had likely been for you, Bucky slowly slid his middle finger through your slit, his eyes never leaving your face. He didn’t want to miss a single second of the way you nearly crumbled under his touch. Your eyes were half-lidded in pleasure as your body lurched forward at his slow, gentle intrusion, accompanied by a moan. He drank in the view, more gorgeous than he imagined you could be, back bowing at his touch. Bucky added another finger and the sensation of the cool metal against the heat between your legs was almost too much to handle.

Your legs began to shake as he slowly coaxed in a third finger, his thumb gently strumming your clit, deft fingers stretching your entrance. The feeling was overwhelming and pushing you impossibly close to an edge you hadn’t experienced in years at the hands of another.

“Jamie, Jamie it’s so much. So good. I’m so close.” It came out between hiccuping gasps as you tucked your face into his neck, throwing your arms around his muscular back and legs around his waist, pinning his hand between your bodies. You were clinging to him with your whole being as you reached your peak with a keen, pussy clenching his fingers almost painfully, but Bucky didn’t mind. He would’ve let you break his arm to see and feel the way he was wringing pleasure from the distant corners of your body right now. He continued to slowly pump his fingers against your walls, bringing you down from your high.

You would’ve collapsed onto the bed if Bucky hadn’t had a firm arm behind you, holding you to his chest where you had curled into him, as you gasped for air. You were finally able to pull your face away and look into his eyes again, his burning with desire and yours hazy with post-orgasmic bliss.

“Do you, uh, do you have a-“ Bucky’s eager nod cut you off as he pressed another sloppy kiss against your lips before slinking back off the bed and walking towards his bag in the corner of the room.

“I think so. Let me check.” Bucky hadn’t expected anything like this to happen over this month, so he definitely didn’t have a condom prepared. Perhaps his emergency one was still in his wallet, but he honestly wasn’t sure. He was pleasantly surprised to find it easily, rolling it on and coming back on the bed towards you.

As he hovered over you, you ran your hands along the scruff on the sides of his cheeks before pulling him down for another kiss. You could feel the weight of his hard length resting against your lower stomach, reaching down to stroke him gently. Bucky tensed at the sensation with a groan, throwing his head toward your shoulder and taking the opportunity to kiss your neck and down your collarbone before making his plea.

“Ride me, Honey. Need to feel you.”

You bit your lip nodding, complying with his request and moving to sit up as Bucky laid down against your pillows, right next to where you had just been sprawled out. You shuffled on your knees to straddle his hips, grinding down and letting his cock run through your folds, slick in preparation for him. You reached a hand down to perch his tip at your entrance, basking in the groan he let out at the sight. You slowly lowered yourself, the broad tip pushing your walls outward, pressure causing you to sharply gasp when he passed the threshold of your tight hole.

Your thigh muscles strained as you attempted to slowly but steadily lower yourself on his length, hyper aware of the delicious stretch of his thick cock inside you. The two of you sighed in relief as you bottomed out, nails gripping tightly into Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky held your hips as you adjusted to him, careful to not squeeze too hard from every time your tightness choked his dick. He fought the urge to throw his head back against the headboard, wanting to keep his eyes on you and where your bodies were connected. The sight of you splitting yourself open over him nearly made him come on the spot, but he tightened every muscle in his body again, trying to resist the urge. He only had one condom, after all, and he wanted to drag out this feeling for as long as possible.

He could see it on your face and feel your body start to relax as your nails gently scratched over his tattooed chest. You rocked your hips, testing the waters, and dragging a whine from both your lips. Your speed picked up, his hands continuing to guide you, finding a smooth rhythm that pulled moans, grunts, and gasps out of the two of you, until just like before, Bucky could feel you clenching again. He lowered his one hand, thumb finding your clit and rubbing tender circles, leading you both barreling towards a shared peak. Your hips stuttered and wavered with exhaustion, but Bucky continued guiding you with his firm, strong hand.

“C’mon Honey. You can do it. I can feel you’re close. Let go for me, sweet thing. Please. Come with me.” His voice was gruff, dripping with desire.

Your hands ran down the muscles of his torso and squeezed against his abs, nails digging in slightly. You used your last bit of energy to nod your head and urge him to help you along. Bucky planted his feet on the mattress, thrusting in tandem with the grind of your hips. You leaned down for a final kiss, wanting to be ever closer to him. As he gave into the gesture, it felt like everything hit you at once along with your shared orgasm: the sweet, tender moment, the reverence and respect he was treating you with throughout, and the fact that you didn’t know if it would ever happen again or if you’d see him after tomorrow.

Bucky came with a deep, but soft growl beneath you as he stroked your hair after you’d pulled away from his lips and tucked yourself into his neck again. He sat there, letting you cling to him for a second before he felt the unexpected wetness against his shoulder. Tears has started streaming down your face, and when Bucky caught a glimpse, his look was similar. Jaw clenched with water in his eyes.

The next morning, it was time for Bucky to go. The two of you had arranged it so you could have one last drive to the gas station together where you’d be meeting Gio.

Bucky convinced you to let him drive your truck for a final time, and you agreed, easily giving in to his request. He drove with the windows down, radio low on the dash, and one hand on the wheel. The other rested on your thigh while you clutched the arm attached to it against your chest and rested your head on his shoulder. His cheek was pressed against the top of your head. Bucky’s callused thumb made small circles on your skin as the breeze blew through the cab, paired with the warm glow of the early morning light, sun shining on your time together like it always had.

Next >

Bonus A/N: All this writing and this is the first time I’ve done smut for Bucky. I hope you enjoyed, I’d love to hear what you thought from a comment, reblog, or ask!!!

Series Taglist: @mrsnikstan @scuzmunkie @openup-yourmind @vicmc624 @hawkeyes-queen @blackhawkfanatic @morgthemagpie @buckybarnessimpp @calwitch @thesarcasmqueen-22

[cissyenthusiast010155]

could you do a Clea Strange x Fem reader prompt 8 <3

Hey, thanks for the request! Yes, I haven’t written for Clea yet, but she’s such a badass. I added some enemies to lovers vibes 😏

Fight Me ~Clea Strange xFem Reader

Mommy…Master List

Prompt-List

#8. “Fuck you.” “That’s what I’m trying to do...”

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, strap fucking, enemies to lovers, cheating, degrading kink, mistress kink…?, mommy kink…?

Enjoy (;

Ever since Master Strange’s journey off into the multiverse, he had been with Clea.

He had brought her back to New York Sanctum, where she lived.

All to your dismay.

You worked with Strange, almost like his second in command. You were a very skilled sorceress, who had been training for years.

But Clea didn’t seem to give a shit about any of that. She didn’t seem to give a shit about any of the Sanctum customs, and that pissed you off. Hell, she just pissed you off.

She was rude, arrogant, snarky and overall just a bitch.

You avoided her at all cost.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t avoid her all the time…

You were doing your mourning physical training session, when Clea waltzed into the training room.

“What exactly are you doing…?” She said with a bite, watching you amusingly.

You were practicing your balance with a wooden stick. Balance was extremely important for a sorcerer. Balance of the body. Balance of the mind.

You huffed annoyed, having lost your concentration, “Not that it matters in the slightest to you but I’m practicing my balance.” you bit back.

Clea snarked back, “How is balance ever going to help you in battle? Aren’t there more important things to know like I don’t know, how to fight??”

You groaned at her impossible nature.

“No really. I don’t think you and your “balanced” self could beat me in a fight.” Clea quipped.

“Oh really?” you snarked back.

And that’s how you ended up having a full on fight with Clea.

Right there in the training room.

You got a few good swings to her, and her swings were just as brutal.

It got heated quickly.

You were using conjured ropes to aid you, Clea had picked up her full on sword.

You went to bind her feet together, but she caught you off guard, smashing you into the nearby wall and pressing her sword harshly against your neck.

“Surrender.” Clea tauntingly commanded.

“Fuck you.” You spat out in response.

Clea’s eyes lit up with something else, something darker as she chuckled, “That’s what I’m trying to do...”

Before you could even process her words, her lips were clashing onto yours.

It was a breathless, passionate, hate filled fight for dominance.

Clea pressed her sword into your neck harder, eliciting a whimper of defeat from your lips.

“Oh my… Does someone like knife play…?” Clea tauntingly mused into your lips, as she tongue fucked your mouth.

“Just… fuck…” you chocked out.

“What was that?” She tauntingly purred.

“Fuck me. Please.” You panted, breathless from her ravaging your mouth.

Clea hummed with delight.

You quickly portalled the two of you into your private room.

“Strip. On the bed.” She directed you.

You followed without a second thought.

It just felt so natural… so right…

“So someone can follow directions?” Clea sarcastically quipped, as you kneeled on your bed, fully naked.

“Please…” you whimpered.

Clea grinned at your begging.

She crawled onto the bed to meet you. It was only then that you noticed that she had attached a massive strap onto herself.

Your eyes widened and you gulped at the sight.

“Spread your legs for me.” Clea snarled.

You followed her words.

Clea then positioned her dick right at your throbbing pussy and stayed there.

You whined and bucked your hips in need of friction.

Clea chuckled at your antics, “Beg. Beg for it. Beg me to fuck you dumb.”

“God Clea please!!” you immediately began to whimper, mewl, and beg, “Shit! Please fuck me! Fuck me so hard…!”

At that, she thrusted into you, eliciting a cry from your lips. She gave you no time to adjust, rather just began pounding into you mercilessly.

Tears were running down your face, your nails were scratching the flesh available on her back. Your screams filled the room.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum!!” You cried out desperately.

“Already so soon…?” She tauntingly purred, “You must be so soaked and needy for me…”

You desperately nodded and mewled, “please… god… wanna cum…!!”

“Go on Then.”

Your walls clenched around her dick, as you screamed her name, eyes blinded through your orgasmic high.

When Clea pulled out of you, you were limp and completely breathless.

Clea chuckled at the sight of you.

She then whispered into your ear, “Be a good girl and we can do this again…”

Then she got up to leave.

“What about Strange?” you asked, having completely forgotten about him in your lust clouded mind.

“Be a Good Girl and he’ll never find out how much of a whore you are.” She purred in response, leaving you a fucked up mess…

[chosos-husband]

Can you do a junker queen X fem reader an angst but loving story so something like they get into a big fight but later that day or a few days later they talk it out and make up?

I love junkerqueen so much. Idk, I'm also just a certified tall woman enjoyer qwq. So obligatory tall women fluff at the end

As mentioned in my last post, I can write the reader as any gender. But, I'll stick with neutral just because :3 though, the reader is gonna be shorter than her definitely. I don't think any of you guys are over 7'(if you are pls hmu)

You were, by nature, a pacifist. Which made living in Junkertown quite hard for you, almost bordering impossible. Everyone that could did take advantage of your kind and trusting nature.

You let in someone who said that they just needed to use the restroom and ended up kicking you out of your own shitty apartment.

This was how Odessa found you. You were teary eyed and embarrassed that you allowed yourself, once again, down on your luck because you were trying to be nice. Usually, Dez was used to seeing people being cruel. So, to see someone crying without being beaten before, was unusual. Emotion was often foreign in Junkertown, as it was a weakness. She found your unprovoked kindness unusual.

Odessa, though, understood the desire. She grew up around here. In a way, all those thieves were here community. However, she knew as good as anyone how cruel these people could be. She knew changing them was impossible. Therefore, she adapted to the environment that she was given.

You just wanted to change that environment.

When she asked you why you were crying, you weren't sure whether or not you should answer honestly. But, she was the queen and you feared further trouble. Therefore, you explained your situation to her.

At the end, she smiled and placed her hand on your shoulder.

"Hey, don't worry about them." She shrugged. "They're all boneheads. Come on, you can stay with me."

You tried to insist that it wasn't necessary. But she insisted. It got to a point where it would be disrespectful to not take her offer. Therefore, the plan was for you to stay a week. But a week became two and two became three.

Your relationship with Dez spiraled from there. She was a protective lover. She hated seeing you hurt, emotionally or physically. You gave her someone that could ground her. She knew that you wouldn't bring her anymore chaos or stress. Rather, someone to help her calm down.

And she found she recovered from nightmares better with you sleeping next to her. It reminded her that everything was, in fact, okay. Dez would just pull you a little closer, make sure you were breathing, and go back to bed.

However, your nature caused a lot of issues. You had issues with how Odessa handled things. Her hot-headed approach frustrated you and you often wished that she handled things more gently. She couldn't understand how you were able to have a passive view about everything. But luckily, it usually worked out for you two.

Usually.

Dez handled something quite abruptly. Once again, leading more with her temper than her thoughts. Though Dez would more kind than previous rulers of Junkertown, that didn't mean you approved of how she managed things.

You heard about it through some mutual friends. Another raid that Dez led instead of trying to reason with her adversaries first. It annoyed you. Dez noticed something was off with you as she was tinkering with something she found. You were sitting next to her on the couch, but you weren't watching her fiddle with the metal anymore. Rather, you were spaced out, thinking about Dez's actions.

"What's wrong with you? You look like you got some bad news or something." Odessa frowned. She really didn't like seeing you upset.

"It's nothing, Dez." Though, your tone said something completely different and she knew that.

"Don't try to lie to me. I know you too well." Odessa moved closer to you. She wanted to know so she could fight with whoever made you upset.

"I just hate how you manage things. I mean, can't you try to reason with people before going crazy? Does it always have to be violence, Dez?" You frowned. Your girlfriend was immediately quite defensive.

"Hey, I give them more than enough chances to apologize."

"That isn't reasoning. You have to try to see their perspective. Maybe you're wrong too. It's hard to tell until you try to talk to them." You insisted.

"You know as well as I do that isn't how it works around here." She crossed her arms.

"But why can't we change that?"

"You really think you are going to change the people out there?" Odessa stood up. She was getting frustrated with you. She only lived because she fought. She only got to where she was because she fought and was unforgiving about it.

"I would at least like to try!" You stood up too. The height difference between you two became apparent.

"You've been here so long. How don't you get it?" She was raising her voice at you, but not recognizing it.

"I don't wanna just accept that maybe some people are just bad." You explained, but she largely wasn't listening.

"Is that why you ended up kicked out of your own house? God, where do you think you'd be? You still think you'd be fine?" She sighed "You're being so fucking stupid!"

She wasn't making eye contact with you. Odessa didn't see you tear up. She only saw you turn around and leave. Her thinking wasn't clear, if it was, she would have gone after you.

~

You went to stay with someone that you and Dez both trusted. They listened to you ramble about your argument with Odessa. They sided with your girlfriend. They experienced the same life she did. They saw how much you struggled because of your nature.

But they still listened to you and understood where you were coming from, and they let you sleep in their small guest room for the night.

Dez went to bed angry. She thought you were being completely irrational. She told herself that she didn't care where you ended up. But, when she woke up from a nightmare, she panicked without you next to her.

She looked for you, she yelled your name. Dez couldn't rationalize with herself for a solid minute. Rather, was consumed with the worry that she lost you.

Once she calmed down, Dez sat back down on the bed. Her breathing was irregular, and her thoughts scattered. She ran a hand through her hair while she tried to figure out what to do.

She was angry at you. But she knew that there was a reason she loved your calm demeanor. She loved how calming you were especially in moments like this. She needed it. Most importantly, she had to know that she wasn't losing you.

Dez thought about where you would have ended up. She knew you well enough to know that you would have been too scared to venture too far. She also knew that you weren't bitter enough to try to fully move out.

She figured that you went to a friend's house. Odessa knocked one door after door before reaching the friend that you chose to stay with. Of course, she was immediately let in.

You weren't able to sleep that night. You kept thinking about your fight with Dez. You worried about if this was going to be the end. Thoughts like that made it impossible to sleep.

The Queen knocked on the spare bedroom door.

"Come in." You said just loud enough to be heard. She immediately opened the door.

"y/n, come on. Can you come home please?" You sat up. It was the most desperate that Dez ever sounded.

"Are you still mad at me?" Your voice was soft.

"Can you please just come?"

~

The walk home was silent. But she did watch over you. Luckily there weren't many people out at this time of night. If they were, they recognized the Queen from afar and tended to stay away. She was just centered on getting home.

She opened the door for you. You assumed that the rest of the night was going to be quiet too. But, as soon as she shut the door, she grabbed your arm.

"Babe, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so rude to you." Odessa frowned. "I just was upset. I didn't think you were wanting to understand. I grew up where my personality means not getting taken advantage of. It means getting what you need and getting access to what you want." Dez shook her head "But I like how you are."

"It's okay, Dez. I wasn't being the nicest either."

"But you didn't call me stupid." She stepped forward, the height difference between you and her became apparent once more. "I like that you talk soft and always try to see the best in others. It's cute." Odessa shrugged. "But if I'm not the way I am, you are going to get hurt again. I just wanted you to get that this isn't me being mean. It's just the say it is.

There was a long pause before she spoke again. "Are you gonna be mad at me?"

You looked up at her. You realized you are likely the only person that the Junkerqueen Queen would ever apologize to.

"No. I understand that you didn't mean it, Dez." You smiled. Odessa put her arms around you and picked you up. She carried you like this back to your shared bedrooms. She slightly threw you onto the bed. But you both shared exhaustion.

She laid next to you and put her arms around you. You smiled, feeling better that you had the queen to protect you while you slept. She pulled you close to her. Odessa observed that you were breathing and that comforted her. She gave you a kiss on your jawline.

"I love you. Even when I don't show that the best."

[idleorbitals]

(ray) thoughts from of ep 4

goddamn this ep came out swinging. I think however I take this it's just going to be a ray breakdown so let's just have a little ray breakdown

we get so much characterization in that first scene and oh boy is it painful. ray in an empty bathtub in flashback, calling mew in the middle of what looks very much like an intentional od. except he's not quite there; this is desperate cry for help territory. he reaches out to mew and tells him explicitly where he is and implicitly what he is doing; he either hasn't taken anything yet or hasn't taken enough to be in physical danger.

(khaotung's fucking acting in this scene. jesus christ.)

the ray mew dynamic is suddenly entirely heartbreaking because we can see that ray has attached himself to mew in a way that mew doesn't reciprocate, not even to touch romantic feelings. when mew picks up ray's call he hears him sloppy and emotional and is immediately exasperated and pushing him away (are you drunk again? I'm not picking you up this time. you're talking nonsense)

when he realizes what's going on mew runs to the rescue because he does care about ray, and wants him safe. but it's clear that mew does not want to be ray's emergency contact here. he's going to do what he can to help out someone he loves, but he has a solid self-preservation drive and he is going to stick to his guns the same way we've seen him do with top so far. for the next two years ray will continue to cling to mew like a lifeline and mew will continue to push ray away as much as he thinks he can handle it.

a strength of this show is that it doesn't shy away from showing the reality and the nuance of this kind of situation. this dynamic plays out in emotionally abusive relationships on the regular and I've watched it close up and it rocks me in fiction not in the indulgently angsty way I love but in a pit-in-my-stomach way.

ray is putting mew in the impossible place of being his only reason to stay alive. this is heavyweight manipulative behavior, even though it's coming from a place of desperate pain and grief. maybe ray is repeating a pattern he learned young; maybe he's come here in the throes of his own self-destruction. whether intentionally or not, he's picked someone relatively invulnerable to this tactic, and so he only feels lonelier and more broken as it plays out. ray is looking for a savior in mew that mew refuses to be.

this dynamic gets an echo in the scene where ray kisses mew without consent. goddamn the narrative framing on this is well done. ray gets told off, both directly by mew and metatextually. he will return later to apologize earnestly for his behavior.

ray screws up over and over with mew. and we still hurt for him, because mew has the self-worth to stand up for himself, while ray loses no opportunity to add evidence to his reasons-I-am-a-terrible-person file.

meanwhile sand. we have seen already that the only thing standing between him and taking the psychic damage ray is dealing out everywhere is his quickly crumbling boundaries. he's stuck them so far, but only nominally. every time ray applies the na? na? he folds so fast it hurts to watch.

three minutes exactly post the above screenshots it has become a joke we share with the camera, in which ray says "hey, I saw a record store nearby. will you go there with me?" and we cut from one singular na directly to a closeup shot of sand's hands as he flips through a stack of records.

this scene also gives us ray trying to recreate the banter they had in their early interactions, in which sand threw insults at him and ray gave him bedroom eyes in response. ray names some insults sand has used in past and asks to be yelled at as punishment for bailing on him to pick mew up and without the na of doom sand just stares at him and thinks about what he's done.

sand doesn't want to throw insults at ray. sand is grasping at least one piece of ray's mo. he looks at ray and sees the lonely sadboi underneath, and he wants to save him.

unfortunately for sand but potentially fortunately for their long term prospects, as of yet ray is not looking to him for a savior the way he has with mew.

the end of this episode brings us back to ray's bathtub. the first time we were here ray was not using it as a bathtub. not to put too fine a point on it, but with no water in it, a bathtub shares some notable characteristics with a coffin.

this time, there is water in the bathtub and ray, again, and a glass of liquor, again, but no pills. this time, there is also no fully clothed mew to offer contrast to the physically and metaphorically naked ray. (mew, as it happens, is busy being physically and metaphorically naked in top's shower)

this time, ray is alone. but he's closing his fist significantly around the keychain that represents his relationship with mew, and looking significantly over at the poor boy shirt that represents his relationship with sand. the levels of analogy the of production team have wrung out of that singular t-shirt deserves an award

now we cut from the t-shirt Directly back to the record store, to sand saying "just give it a try. I think you might like it", which is definitely about the music and not a metaphor for anything, and putting headphones onto a ray who is gazing back at him like so:

as tender gentle acoustic music fills in raysand exchange longing glances and sand mouths /do you like it?/ and then has to ask again aloud, and ray affirms, and then has to take his headphones off to say it again more explicitly. no metaphors here, folks. we're talking about the song, and the song only.

then they tenderly and gently begin to take each other's hands.

I think I remember this scene from the lion king

so what's next? unfortunately we are only 1/3 of the way through this series, which means that raysand are still far away from any happy ending they may or may not be allowed. this episode suggests a possible bookend to ray's pining after mew, but those feelings don't change overnight, and sand is still forebodingly in the dark about them. also big question marks around ray's ability to approach reciprocal love in less toxic ways. also various addictions in play here. this could go wrong in so many ways I can't even guess the most likely! but boy am I along for the ride

(all ofts reflections)

[nellherself]

In The Woods Somewhere

a short story by Nell Egan, not to be replicated without specific permission.

When I was a boy, my father, the very father that brought me here today, used to tell me all the time to go outside. “But it’s boring,” I’d say “I want to stay here and read my book.” Pouting with all the conviction of a shadow, strong on a summer's day. “Find an adventure!” He would tell me, gently shoving me out the door, “Write your own stories, go and live the book.” 

So, that day, I did.

I walked down the path from our little pebbledash house and down the lane towards the field, listening to the crickets cry and the gulls scream as I went. I walked across the stretch of dying grass, attempting to remain out of sight of the boys who lived across the lane playing games at the other end of the field; the boys who were mean to me at school and liked to football tackle each other to the ground unprompted. I walked down the canal path, imagining what it would be like to fall in the filthy water and promptly pushing myself as far away from the waters edge as physically possible. 

In the evenings, bats flew over those canals and sometimes I would go there with my father and watch them as they swooped gently over the water. This was at the time when my mother was quite ill though, so it had been a while since i’d been down there and walked along the path, a good long while since I’d done it alone. At that point in the summer the bats would have been birthing their pups, and if we’d been able to go down we would’ve seen them in dozens, on those warm summer nights, but the stress made my father too tired. 

I walked down that canal for almost a mile before meeting the main road on the other end from where I’d originally joined the path. I still walk down this path sometimes, and in my later years it was where me and my friends would walk to go into the village centre, but at that time I hated the main road, it terrified me. Even back then, cars shot down it with certainty, not slowing down for anything or anyone; two people had been killed that year already. It was July. 

Nevertheless, I flew across the road as fast as I could, squeezing my eyes shut as I reached the other side to breathe, as if I could only bear one thing in that moment. When I recovered, I looked before me, at the gate. The gate was black and rough, cool beneath my fingers. The iron was rusting in places and it howled as I pushed it open, sliding into the beyond through the gap it created. I had known where I was heading, it was a place I liked to go often, but in that afternoon light the cemetery looked ethereal and ancient, like something out of a pre-raphaelite painting. The angels jumped out at me, ashen wings outstretched and aggressive in some sort of unusually delicate way.  I walked through the graves reading the dates; 1861, 1955, 1901: old and young. I remember the trees in that place were huge; massive, towering giant sequoias all in neat rows, with their red wood trunks like flame and their leaves stretched across the sky like a covering, providing relief for the scorching July sun. I loved walking among those graves. It made me feel like I had hundreds of friends who were just happy to have a visitor and listen to me talk; I must’ve stayed there for hours upon hours. 

It was getting dark by the time I realised I should probably be heading home. I walked back down the way I had come among the graves, however this time I saw a man in a high-vis walking towards the pond on the other side. The gate was open. 

In all the times I had been in that place, I never once had that gate been open; never once did I see it open again. The gate led to a deep pond, the sign indicated that it was more then five hundred metres deep, but I found that difficult to believe. It was not a lake, it was simply a duck pond, for it to be so deep seemed impossible, but now I’m not so sure. 

I creeped down, hiding behind trees and creeping behind graves until I could see exactly what they were doing. From that angle, the pond was in clear view and the dusky light made it easy to make out the shadowy figures of the men who surrounded it. They appeared to be holding what looked like a big hook, to my childish mind like a pirate’s hand, but really it was like a big fishing hook on the end of a long piece of string. Thick cord, heavy: it looked like it would be rough beneath my hands were I the one holding it. I watched as they threw it into the sullen water, greeting the surface with a colossal splash as it did so and aggravating the algae on the water’s top; it wobbled back into place and settled once more. 

I watched as the three or four men repeated this, dragging it out each time with three or or four sets of hands and a mighty heave. The fifth time they did this, I remember the clear resistance of the rope and the unison of grunts from the men as they were flung back by the force of its upheaval. They shone a yellow light on the sizable catch and it was then that I saw what it was. A body, bloated with water and punctured in the cheek from where the hook had pierced, it’s watery tresses plastered to the side of it’s face. There was pondweed on it’s pale skin, skin that looked almost false like rubber, as though it had been sewn onto a mannequin or fashioned out of wax for a freak show. 

I watched as it rolled towards me, limp, eyes open making eye contact with me and I watched as it morphed into my father before my eyes, becoming more familiar with every passing second. 

I squealed then, and the men all turned towards the grave behind which I was cowered, muttering to one another. I don’t remember what I thought in that moment, I just remember that I ran. I ran as fast as I could on my childish, twigish legs, panting like a dog all the way back down the canal and across the field. The dangerous road no longer even a necessary consideration. I ran until I reached my home, knocking furiously on the door to our home, rapping until my knuckles were sore. My father opened the door. “Alright! Hold on I’m here!” As soon as I saw him I launched myself at him, laying my head on his chest to listen to his heartbeat and wrapping my arms around him to make sure that he was real, that he was there. He said my name in a gasping tone, like I’d knocked the air clean out of him with the force in which I had grabbed onto him, “Everything alright?” he followed, questioning the closeness between us. It was a dynamic we had never had; “Yes.” I said, breathlessly, and nothing more. 

I never told anyone what I had seen; what I had thought in that cemetery on that warm July evening.

I miss that now, that closeness. I had never felt as close to my father as I did in that moment and as I grew up, although I wished us to get closer again, we grew further and further apart until he was almost a stranger to me; a stranger I shared only a last name with and very little in common. I wish in his later years I had made more of an effort to get close to him once more. I’d like to think that, in hindsight, if I knew how much I’d regret it now I would have tried to mend our closeness and knit us back together, but hindsight is a wonderful thing.  

I didn’t step foot in that graveyard again until his funeral, these forty years later. We chose to have a closed coffin, me more so than my mother. I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing that body again, it’s limp bloat, my pale faced father as a John Smith pulled from the murky water. It wasn’t hard to convince her; he hadn’t looked particularly well when he died.

I still think about that evening, I see it in my dreams; that face staring back at me, the yellow torch light cast across it. When we, the ten person procession that we were, walked under those sequoias it came back to me so vividly that I was winded and had to stop, bending at the waist and holding myself up haphazardly. My mother walked over to me and placed her hand gently on my shoulder thinking the pain was personal, a memory of my father. I suppose it was in a way, but not in the way she thought. 

I could see the duck pond from where we stood to bury him. I couldn’t help but think about the body the whole time, even while they lowered him into the ground I was thinking of that day. 

When we walked past again, on our way out leading to the main road, I noticed the gate was open.

[drivingsideways]

On watching Pathaan

I don't want to talk about the film itself, which was a shock to my system- it's been several decades since I watched a Bollywood "masala" film, so I'd evidently missed the part where they've apparently forgotten almost entirely how to make those. The Bollywood masala films I grew up with weren't clever or technically fabulous or intellectually satisfying (though a few were all of those); that wasn't what you went to the theatre for. You went to feel twenty different emotions in the space of two hours and forty five minutes, and come out (literally) sweaty and fulfilled, with a earworm that wouldn't leave you for a month. Pathaan ostensibly belongs to that category of films except that it's not: it's a film that seems afraid of emotions, big or small; of dialogues with multi syllable words; of silences, of empty spaces; in the end it's a film that resists both thought and feeling, and provides only simulacrums of both.

And yet?

This entirely made-by-subcommittee exercise in soullessness is rescued by one fact: that it has Shahrukh Khan. You cannot, physically, make a movie without feeling once it has Shahrukh in it. You can try (and boy, does Sidharth Anand try ) but if you want to see how one man's personality entirely WARPS a narrative, just consider this: "Pathaan" never gets a "real" name onscreen. He's not Raj, Rahul or Kabir. He's just Pathaan: a man adopted by an entire village in Afghanistan; and adopted here, in his "homeland" as well; at this point in his career, everyone knows that Shahrukh is of Pathaan ancestry himself, so the movie is literally just calling him what someone probably once called his grandfather or great grandfather.

See: if this had been an Akshay or Ajay or even Salman movie, it would have been nothing but crass misogyny and militant nationalistic jingoism start to finish and it doesn't entirely escape either of those things even now; but the moment you have Shahrukh and those eyes of his which feel everything, and show everything, you just can't make that film. You'd be laughed out of the room. The movie had to literally acknowledge this when it has a character say of "Pathaan": the others are calculated, methodical, but Pathaan? He thinks with his heart.

Yeah, baby. That's blorbocore, ok?

You can't think your way to Shahrukh, you can't reason your way to him; you have to feel him. It's a binary state: you either do, or you don't. It has been that way since he burst into national consciousness with Fauji (1989) , big nosed and pimply-skinned; and it's that way now, when he's fifty seven and got six pack abs and smooth skin in post.

You have to look into his eyes and see the truth there: (love conquers everything)

Every tiny bit of truth gleaming gold in the muddy riverbed that is Pathaan comes not from the elements of the film itself, but from who Shahrukh Khan is, to us, in this moment of our history; who he has been to us in the last three decades; the man who made grannies and children laugh and cry; who set the standards that women of my generation would judge men against; our sona, our kintsugi, in a country that always seems to be on the verge of an irreparable fracture, and somehow, so far, hasn't given up. We shouldn't exist, yet here we are. We don't know where we'll be tomorrow, but that's for tomorrow.

I know there are many reasons for Pathaan's success, but one of them, surely ,is this: that we wanted him to win. Nobody in public life in the last three decades has embodied our ridiculous, laughable dreams and our spectacular failures as he has; he was-and is- our guy, hamara, the one who said watch me , I'm going to do the impossible, and it's going to be fun. And we did. I know people are watching Pathaan for all sorts of reasons, but one of them is surely this: that we loved him in the way we love ourselves, that we missed him in the way we miss ourselves; that when the chips were down, we came out to see this ageing superstar reinvent himself, do the impossible once more; that when we walked into that theatre, we were saying, go on, shona, do your thing, we're watching you, we're still here.

[honeyandbloodpoetry]

Catharsis - Resident Evil OC Snippets Part 2

Carlisle is a young transgender man that worked at RPD as a receptionist and was recovered from the rubble that fateful night in 1998 after being separated from the rookie cop that had rescued him. Saved by a scientist fleeing the city, the young man is offered the chance of a lifetime--to be involved with experimental rapid and completely transformative testosterone HRT. Carlisle gives himself a new name and accepts to be part of the study, falling in love with His Doctor (Spencer Stevens) along the way and watching as his dreams come true. Things are not always as they seem though, and it seems the good doctor did not have his patient's best interests at heart...and Carlisle soon discovers he is Umbrella's newest BOW experiment. This small snippet is an excerpt of Carlisle's journey after escaping Umbrella captivity and living in hiding with an old friend as they desperately hunt for a antivirus.

My hands cross over his, my nails like sharpened iron, skin rough and hopelessly dry beneath hair so thick it is almost like fur. He is fast asleep, bare chest and small breasts moving softly with each breath, the moon peeking through the blinds making his nipple rings glimmer. I like how he sparkles even when his eyes are closed.

I reach up and brush the hair from his forehead. It's warm. Still a little sick. It's likely from the stress. He told me he used to get them all the time as a kid, both when he was homeless and in his foster homes. He told me it didn't happen too often anymore until after what happened to him in Spain.

My feet hang off the ends of the bed, but I don't care. Gently, I pull him to me. He is well muscled, yet so impossibly soft. Irresistibly soft. He feels delicate in my arms, though I know he's not. I remember the way his eyes shined the night we met in Raccoon City. They don't shine like that anymore. The boy I met that night and the man I lay with are two different chapters. And yet, as my eyes fixate on the soft stubble of his chin, I know it is the same story, a book I am hopelessly lost in.

I'm changing. The doctor who did this to me... He said he wanted to help me. He promised me metamorphosis. I wanted to be a man, but as the days progress I turn more and more into a monster. I was happy with him once...but Leon helped me escape when the doctor became less of a lover and more of an owner. When I became less "future husband" and more lab rat. Leon has kept me safe and hidden in the two years since. Within the past few months, physical changes have begun to happen more rapidly. It makes me sick to my stomach. Leon tries to help me figure out how to cure it, he uses all his resources to try and seek an antivirus, he assures me we'll fix me before the mutation progresses too far, promises that we'll get me proper healthcare and not some "wackjob science experiment".

Leon understands me in a way no one else does. He is...like me. My doctor gave me the word, but Leon gave me the truth. Transgender.

And yet, I feel like it is already too late.

I'm crying without realizing it, fat rivers of tears coursing down my cheeks. I only realize my eyes are closed--imagining the man I could have been...and oh god, the nightmarish thought of living as a woman, of having repressed everything I am forever, but oh fuck, what am I turning into, what the fuck am I going to do--when Leon's hand cups my chin. His hands are tiny and kind against my jaw. He is strong and reassuring, his eyes dark with concern.

I blink against the stream of tears, ready to apologize, but he places a finger to my lips and then pulls me in close. He's so much smaller than me, and yet he feels like my whole world.

He's kept me so safe, and yet...we've never said it. The L word. It terrifies both of us. We sleep in the same bed. But we're not dating. Just saving space. Being economical. When we cuddle or fuck...boredom. Loneliness. Desperation?

Well. I'm desperate at least. Always have been.

I sob into him, let him run his fingers through my hair until I am weak, until I slump down and pull him into the crook of my chest, feeling him relax against the iron wall of my stomach. A thread of hunger pulses through me, and I grit my teeth, angry. I think of the dog from the other day...the thought of all that blood makes my stomach hurt. I try to not think about it at all. I try to focus on calming the predatory beat of my heart, on lowering my blood pressure.

He sighs softly, pressing his back into me, filling up every inch of space between us. "It's going to be okay." He says. He says more, comforting words and promises that ease me into sleep, gentle lullabies that bleed together and make a soft hum as I fade.

I believe him.

I believe him with all my heart, even as my skin starts to split and bloody pus drips onto the wooden floor. I believe even as disgusting red pustules form on my skin, breaking open into weepy new eyes, the sight from my true eyes beginning to leave, bright and painful as looking at the sun. Even as my spinal pain makes it difficult to stand upright. Even as my knuckles drag on the ground like some sort of beast. Even when I begin to lose my mind, when I forget words, when I keep getting bigger and need more and more meat.

Even when I'm losing everything that makes me me, I believe him. He smiles the same way he did that night in 1998. After everything... Even when the light in his eyes is dark, he still smiles. Always something to say. Just the right thing. How can I not believe him?

I believe him until I'm nothing.

I wonder if he still believes?

I don't think I'm waking up this time.

[a-very-neat-monst3r]

LONG POST AHEAD

SERIOUSLY LONG POST AHEAD

Most recent is that I almost had myself admitted for a 72 hour hold🙃 But I’ll start from the beginning.

I haven’t been on in 5 days and so much has happened. SO much. Over the course of this month, I’ve lost my job, was in a car accident, had to attend the emergency room in 3 occasions all together, and all for different purposes.

Obviously the car accident was the first. Everyone was okay, we all got away with scrapes and bruises. My dad got the worst of it, as it was the passenger side that was hit. He ended up with a broken left wrist and a broken right foot, which he has had surgery because they needed to literally screw his foot back together. All is well now, it’s been a few weeks and he got his walking boot on Thursday. I’ve been taking care of him while he’s healing, which has been perfectly fine. I’ve never had a problem living with my dad because we’re so alike in personality. However, the trauma and guilt from the crash have made my mental state almost impossible to control. It added to everything going on in my head.

The second ER visit was for an access, which was terrifying, scary, painful. I hope I don’t need surgery to fix it, but I’ll find out on Thursday.

The last time I went to the emergency was Sunday. Over the weekend I had reconnected with my oldest best friend and stayed at her place catching up from the last 6/7 years. The very first night I was there was completely fine. However! It went downhill very quickly. Not that anything bad happened, but I was explaining things to my friend, and the first thing she told me was that she guaranteed all of my memory problems, speech, basic skills and other small problems were caused from having had SO much trauma over my life that after almost 27 years, it all finally caught up with me.

The entire time I was there after she told me that, I was miserable. Not because of her or anyone else, just my mindset. She was so so right and it took my entire life to realize this.

I don’t ride in cars unless I have to, or if I do I sit in the backseat because I don’t want to see traffic at all. If I see another car too close for my comfort I instantly start crying and panicking. Watching a woman get out of her car made things so much worse, because once I saw that steering wheel and empty drivers seat all I could do was picture myself behind the wheel.

On Sunday the plan was to stay for the daughters birthday party, but after my ptsd had me shut down in the corner of her room sobbing and holding a blanket… I knew I had to go.

THIS ENTIRE TIME, over the course of easily a year or two, I’ve been having problems with my memory, walking, and other things. My vision had slowly been getting worse but that wasn’t a surprise because I didn’t have insurance for a couple of years to get new glasses. I got to the point over the last couple of years where my sight was so bad I couldn’t make out the black blobs of letters and had people reading things for me. I was terrified I was slowly going blind, but until recently, I never really thought anything of it because it was only once in a while… but I never told anyone, and I should have.

I pleaded to a god I don’t even believe in to let me make it from the car door to my front door without tipping over and losing control of my walking. At this point the dizziness and trying to walk were my biggest physically problems. We made it inside, spoke to my dad, and then stumble/FALL into my chair and close my eyes wanting everything to stop spinning and for no one to notice. I had to get something from the kitchen, held into whatever I could to keep standing to get there, with legs so wobbly I can fall over without a warning. I had been trying to text my sister about what I was feeling and we do have several mental illnesses in the family, including dementia and Alzheimer’s. This may sound extreme but I was convinced it was something along those lines. Like i said, these are very common in our family.

Nope.

I went to the ER for the last time knowing that my mental state was horrible and this is when I almost had myself admitted.

Like I said, I was in a bad car accident but walked away with only crazy scrapes and bruises, no concussion. I kept the possibility of a late showing concussion in my mind, too.

My grandmother is literally holding my hand and helping me walk to the car because I can’t stand straight.

If it helps, imagine losing your balance and tipping over because suddenly your legs decide they’re done for. Think of it as walking home drunk, and falling over all the time. But literally all the time.

I even told my family I knew since I was a kid I was meant to die in a car accident. Driving has always been one of my top fears, and the first time I have my drivers permit is the first time I caused an accident.

I know this all over the place but I cant explain how hard it was for me to pour out the words I needed to. I almost couldn’t.

You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to tell your family that you’re suffering from survivors guilt for something that never happened. No one died.

But I was supposed to.

THE BEST PART is that when I left the emergency room, I was perfectly clear headed, I had calmed down a smidge over the last couple of hours.

Literally all of my blood work came back fine, nothing at all to worry about with anything.

It’s hard to describe the feeling when someone else verifies that it really IS all in my head. I’ve ignored myself and my mental state and needs for SO long my body was starting to actually shut itself down until I paid attention.

Everyone keeps telling me I need to let go of of everything I’ve been holding onto, every bad thing I’ve always had feelings or experiences with. I’m a passive person, I don’t cause problems but I try to solve them. I end up taking care of other people and doing things so I push everything in a pile to the back of my mind.

How the fuck do I do that?

I’m trying to get back to my old therapists office and see if she is still there. Like I said, I lost insurance and couldn’t afford to take of myself much anymore in the way of doctors. I was supposed to have a job interview yesterday but when I woke up there was instant unstoppable stress because thinking about doing the interview had me worried it would make me feel worse and add on extra stress. My family assures me it’s fine and it’s okay for me to take time to collect myself and they will take care of things during that period.

I have a lot of guilt for a lot of things I guess I’m not supposed to feel guilty for, and I think that having SO SO much piled up from even being a kid that I actually busted.

It only took 27 years.

[thots-n-prayrs]

I am depressed and bored and trying something new.

I have never journaled. Ever. I just don’t have the drive, or the ability to do something consistently. My life has been a series of hyperfixations that burn out and are soon replaced by brand new hyperfixations, so consistency is just...not my thing.

But I guess now that I have the itch to write, I will.

The whole point of doing it on Tumblr is that I’m screaming into the abyss and I know it. I don’t need a response. I don’t even need for this to be acknowledged, much less actually read. I just want to write it, but I don’t want to keep a running document on Google and I don’t have my own computer right now to keep shit like this on.

I’ve been in a weird state since at least Sunday. Months ago, my wife printed out the “how s*icidal are you” scale my therapist gave me and put it on the fridge so I could move a magnet up and down as my depression ebbs and flows. This probably happened because of one or two incidents where I was s*icidal and didn’t even tell my wife until it passed, and I freaked out, broke down crying, and told her I what I had been feeling and planning.

Sunday-ish, my mental state jumped from where it hovers, around three (”I wish I was d*ead”) to five (”I want to k*ll myself.”) Five is not yet cause for concern. Six is where you should start to get worried. Seven is where you should be more worried. Eight is where you should probably call my therapist or the hospital, because nine or ten is extremely bad.

Well, it hasn’t gone back down. I’ve hovered right here, unusually high, for days. It’s really strange and kind of awkward being in the stage of ideation where you’re thinking about it but not planning. It’s impossible to honestly answer a “how are you.” And, it’s uncouth to tell your co-workers, “Yeah, so, I’m struggling a lot with x, y and z because I am actively fighting my own brain just to stay alive.”

“Stay alive” meaning I don’t want to move any higher up on the scale. Ideally, we move down.

So the problem is that I don’t really know how to move it down. Historically, I have one big cataclysmic breakdown, and then when it subsides, I’m somewhat better. I drift back down to a three. The problem with whatever this is is that it won’t seem to hit the crescendo and subside like it has before. I’m just...here. Like this. Trying so hard to hold myself together -- which isn’t going great since this particularly bad depressive episode is affecting everything. It’s affecting work quite badly. I’m making mistakes I would have never normally made. I’m forgetting everything, even if I write it down. It’s overall going pretty poorly.

(My therapist, my wife and myself made a crisis plan, by the way. My stupid brain found ways around it.)

And all I can really do is remind myself that my wife doesn’t deserve to be widowed. Papa doesn’t deserve to bury another family member way too young -- least of all his own child. Nobody deserves the ridiculously high expenses of a funeral and a burial or cremation.

The other thing I keep reminding myself is that this bad haircut is going to grow out. My hair grows fast. It will be worth watching it grow back to a length I like. It will be worth having cut and styled in a way I actually like it.

My health goals are worth pursuing. I gained weight again when I stopped working a physical job. It’s totally worth learning to exercise without accidentally injuring myself. It’s worth watching myself get slim again, and maybe trying to build muscle like I always wanted to. The only issue with all this is my body, because, well. Chronic pain and fatigue. But one of the ways people deal with fibromyalgia is exercise and changing to a healthier diet.

It’s all worth pursuing, and I can sort of see it in some moments, but then it vanishes and I get lost in the now. Well, right now I’m overweight. Now I’m tired and in pain. Now my hair is ugly (to me).

I’ll be fine in the end. It’s just hard right now. I’m not going to k*ll myself, don’t worry. If I were planning that, I wouldn’t be writing this -- I would be planning or executing...horrible, horrible joke, yikes.

[superiorjello]

So I got The Untamed on DVD for my birthday this year, because I am a bitch that loves physical media. I started watching it today, because the powers of free time and ADHD were on my side, and the first couple episodes have been... interesting

I'm not sure if there are multiple dvd releases or just the one, but mine came from VStarz Enterprise, if that means anything to anyone.

So, first off, there is a logo perma-burned into the top right corner. So that's rude. I MY MOM paid MONEY for this and there's better quality video for free on YouTube? Also there are Mandarin subtitles perma-burned in there too. And when the English subtitles are on they sit overtop the Mandarin ones, so there's like 1/3 of the screen full of subtitles. It's not great.

Secondly, some of the translations are... creative. And sporadically applied. Lan Zhan gets called the fully translated "light bearing lord" for all of episode one, but then it's suddenly "hanguang" in episode two (no -jun suffix on there either). Koi Tower gets called the Immortal Unicorn Tower? Oh, and cultivators are Immortals, apparently (can't wait to see how they differentiate someone like Baoshan Sanren). Also I'm used to "Dafan this, Dafan that" when it comes to Wen Qing's family, and it being translated as "Fan Mountain" threw me off. Does "Da" just mean mountain or something?

I did find it interesting that they translated Mo Xuanyu wwx as saying he would break his cousin's hand if he stole again, and then his arm gets demonically possessed. The slight difference between a hand and a whole arm and then still getting blamed for it anyways adds a slightly different flavor to the scene than him having already threatened the entire arm, and I dig it.

Then there's the bad translations. Our intrepid hero is introduced as "Wei Yin". There are many sentences that look like Google translate garbage; the words are technically English, but not in the right order for a sentence, or are only part of a sentence. When mxy wwx insults Jin Ling in the forest it's translated one way, and when wwx flashes back to that moment, he says something completely different. So that's funny.

Many of the longer dialogue bits flash by so fast it's impossible to read them without pausing

Fascinatingly the episodes themselves are longer than I remember, and I think it's the extended cut which I have watched bits and pieces of on YouTube but never the whole thing, which is going to be a fun experience

Overall I'm having fun, because The Untamed is always fun to me (you know, except for the parts where you cry) But I also can't wait to see what else they've fucked up!

[rivangel]

anything for u milk. this only took me 300 years to write but i think it's worth it :'')))) hope u and the kitty levi enjoyers enjoy :3

//fem!reader, consensual somnophilia, knotting, kitty!Levi, this is fucking filthy no kidding, throat-fucking, HURT/COMFORT, pegging, drool, crying, multiple orgasms, pron with minimal plot, established relationship, dumbification, doggy style, scratching+biting, Levi is feral in this, handjob (m!receiving), toys (strap-on, vibrator), praise, overstimulation, kind-of sex pollen | wc: 8.5k

“Falling in love” is a pretty accurate comparison, he guesses, though he’s not pleased to make it. Or work through it. He didn’t even entirely believe until now.

Now that it’s happening to him.

When or how his feelings passed into this new world—it doesn’t matter because it can’t be reversed or changed. He needs to be near you—not just physically—and for ages your scent had been a comforting, familiar attraction for a long time, he can’t differentiate it as separate from his own. Something primal in him has appeared from the brush, love that he can taste like petrichor on the wind.

Even worse is when he feels distance between you—which is rare and slight but he can sometimes taste nonetheless. Sharing his life with you has become as natural and as mandatory as breathing air, and distance opens up a pit inside him, that he’s incomplete. Missing something.

It’s a complete assault on him, who’s been fighting this on his own for a while now.

And it’s getting worse.

He despises himself now for shutting down any conversation between him and Hange, a hybrid like him, and their mate, another hybrid named Moblit. He’d curl his lip and change the subject. As one of his closest friends, he could trust them with this kind of thing, but he doesn’t want to speak the words.

But it’s getting harder to ignore. This pull towards you has become impossible to stop from knocking at the front of his mind. It doesn’t matter how close you are in any sense anymore; the emptiness is nauseating.

He doesn’t get it, doesn’t know what the hell to do. He can’t explain why it takes more than one call of his name to get his attention lately. Why exactly he’s been missing from bed when you wake up in the morning instead of rousing you with gentle head-bumps and throaty purring. Why he's been quiet, even by his standards.

You’re both watching a movie in the dark living room. The light cast from the TV is the only thing illuminating.

He can’t pay attention, naturally, and so he finds himself glancing at you from his end of the couch where he’s curled up under a blanket. You’re clearly enraptured in whatever’s going on. The colorful glow from the TV flickers across your features.

It’d be easier to sleep and let the time go, but you’re too close and yet too far away. No matter how he squirms, he can’t settle. And besides, after dinner, he’s still hungry. Even as a wholesome scene is taking place, he watches with a look as if he’s watching a character die.

He knows the symptoms for an incoming heat, but he dismisses that too because it’d be two months early (they always come every three).

He deduced that his instincts just aren’t happy with him, and so he’s getting sick, the type of sick that usually leads up to it. He’s going to have to deal with this, and soon.

His teeth have felt sore too. Without thinking about it, he glides his tongue down his canines and feels a light sting. They’re sharper?

Maybe he’s losing it, hyperaware of everything, so that’s why it feels like there’s more saliva in his mouth when it’s never warranted noticing.

He wants, kind of, to suckle or bite. Trap your soft skin between his teeth. Not unheard of, but he wants it viscerally. Like a tasty meal being held under his starving nose.

More saliva floods his mouth as a warm flash takes his body, twisting his features into a wince.

He can’t function like this, he needs you close, but it isn’t worth the risk. Lifelong commitment?—He can’t guarantee you’d agree to that after some years together. He’d be a massive burden. You’d be trapped.

Maybe you’d want to find another way when none exists. After all you’re not like him, he can’t be your mate—it’s just him. You don’t have half of him fulfilling your existence. It’s just him. His blood. Which is such a lonely feeling he would prefer sinking into the earth and disappearing.

What if you leave?

Nauseous again. It doesn’t feel like his skin is fitting right, it’s too bright.

He buries his nose deeper in the soft blanket and rubs his flat ears into the armrest. Oddly, even though he walks an anxious edge, his eyes are heavy and his mind is slow.

Normally he flocks to logic when something is picking at him, but all it serves to do is make him more afraid. Once a hybrid, he, finds a mate, that’s it (He learned that much from Hange.). He imagines it’d be impossible to move on after that.

As if he wants to. He doesn’t want to lose you at all.

It’s hard to say whether the movie is halfway-over, nearly or neither, but. He raises himself up, and drags his hand down his face.

"Tired?"

With a puckered brow and tired eyes, he slow-blinks at you, making you smile, although it’s a little wane. You’ve definitely noticed the way he’s been pulling away.

"It’s okay, honey.” You smile. "Go on. I'll be up in a bit."

The physical distance that implies makes him want to pounce and pin you in place. He smells concern on you.

Somehow he manages to stand without stumbling. It takes a little work neatly folding his blanket and laying it on the back of the couch, but he manages it and trudges upstairs. His nighttime routine begins with a shower.

Fuck, his limbs are heavy though. He’s so tired.

He tells himself he’s only going to lay on the covers and rest his eyes for a few minutes.

That doesn’t work out. Right before awareness completely leaves him, he senses himself wrenching your pillow over and pushing his face into it.

Twelve hours later. That disorients him by itself. It feels like he was sleeping deep and slow forever.

He twitches to awareness in a pool of sweat, but he’s burning, like a fever in his most deepest core. The covers pushed up to his chin are killing him, suffocating him, all twisted around his legs and feet.

Smelling the cool air makes his nose wrinkle, but then, his eyes widen. It’s overwhelming, smelling everything from his own thick heat sticking to his skin, the dense oily scent of clothes in the hamper, his own hair, your flowery shampoo and clean detergent in the pillows, salty sweat. The river these streams of smells join into is as alluring as it is thick, buttery, welcoming even. More saliva pools in his mouth.

It’s you, behind him somewhere but not touching. You must’ve rolled away at some point during the night. It’s grey outside.

You are what his need is chasing. Safe, and warm, and he’s so lonely; so empty.

He squeezes his thighs together, which is a fucking mistake. His eyes pop open wide, then squeeze shut as a small, but brutal climax takes him by complete surprise. He curls his toes and pins his arm over his mouth as the heat wets his cotton boxer-shorts.

He manages a tangible thought. This is bad.

If his heats are a simple itch to scratch, his whole… everything needs it. This isn’t just heat. Not even a hard heat.

He needs to fucking mate.

His jaw wobbles. It’s hard to breathe quietly, and fuck, he’s baking. Slowly but surely, he works his t-shirt off, and drops it beside him.

Distantly, he orders himself to be grateful that you’re still asleep. By inches, he squirms out from under the covers, and lugs himself up into a sit on the edge of the bed, ears pressed flat in distress. By his waist, his tail anxiously twitches. He’s practically vibrating with need, arousal, or anxious energy.

The chilly floor touches the bottoms of his feet, almost pulling a gasp from him. Embarrassed, he hangs his head, feeling insane.

What to do about this? Where to go? If he so much as looks at the lump under the covers behind him, he will snap. If he so much as palms the swollen bulge between his thighs again, he’ll lose any ability to think. It’s already hard.

You won’t want this. He knows you’re happy with him, but not this.

Maybe if he goes away for a while, it’ll calm down. Create space. Then the heat will go on as normal and once it’s over he can figure this out. He’s been low on time, but it’s something.

His legs are too weak to support himself standing. He reminds himself too much of an actual animal as he sinks down to his hands and knees, and practically drags himself to the bedroom door. It’s cracked open, thankfully.

From there, the hall. He smells the fresh flowers in the vase all the way in the kitchen downstairs, spiky cleaning chemicals and old soap, and his heat, naturally. He shivers, over and over, overstimulated.

It’s difficult enough to reach the closet in the hall, the source of the chemical smell since that’s where cleaning supplies are stored. It’s as good as it gets, probably. The stairs are too much.

He pauses in front of the closet, kneeling heavily, panting. It takes an embarrassing amount of effort to twist the knob and throw himself inside. The door shuts with a weak click that he doesn’t notice.

He’s too busy collapsing on his side, facing a box (containing a vaporizer he’s pretty sure) next to some stored blankets. The hard floor is ambivalent to his suffering. The dry stench of dust, sour chemicals and woodsy broom bristles—he almost gags. He buries his nose in his arm, and wraps his other around his middle.

But despite all that, he needs to cum so fucking bad.

Finally a noise swells in his throat he can’t stop, an injured whine. Also without his consent, frantic purrs start up in attempts to comfort himself. He’s well and truly lonely now.

Fucking deal with it. Know how shit it’ll feel if she leaves you for good?

Deal with it. Deal with it. He’s spent plenty of heats alone before you, and even though this exceeds any of them in intensity by far, this won’t be that long, not nearly. He just has to wait it out until it calms down.

But it doesn’t calm down. As the sun rises, he lays there, squirming with tears of frustration beading at his lashes.

So stupid.

Unknown to him, at some point with his squirming, he knocks the door open with his foot. It never shut completely.

Maybe it was inevitable anyway. Hearing in vivid detail your steps, pausing, then closing in from the hall. Whimpering, he curls up into the tightest ball he can. Soon, the door makes an awful creaking as it opens on him. You gasp softly.

A slight sound, just an intake of breath. His aching neglected cock throbs, making him whimper again.

It’s you. For just a moment, he forgets why that’s such a bad thing.

"There you are... What—Levi, you're in heat?"

How is it possible to be both ashamed and turned on? He whimpers again, unmoving. Completely helpless.

You sink into a kneel behind him. “No, no… it’s okay. Why are you hiding? Because it’s early?”

His mind blanks. All his attention is drawn to the sensation of you stroking his bird’s nest of messy hair. It’s an attempt to be comforting, but it’s too hot. His heaving breathing transforms into strained panting. He really is going crazy.

“You need my hand, don’t you. Is it okay if I touch?”

Your palm on his cheek is like ice-water against a burn. He tastes the smell on his tongue.

Deal… with it…

“No touching?”

No. No!

You can’t go away again. He can’t be left like this. A tear finally drips down as he whines pitifully.

His arms drop beside his head, giving you more space. He rests his head on his hand for a cushion, mewling as his hips squirm against nothing. At this point, his underwear is nothing but an embarrassing, pathetic barrier.

If that’s not enough, he snatches your wrist and drags you wherever closer.

The hot haze swims in his mind. Through it, he reasons that putting a dent in it may help. Your hand can’t do more than that.

You get the signal. Still stroking his hair, your other hand drags a straight path from his middle through the line of dark hair below his navel. He tosses his head fitfully.

Your pointer finger hooks in the waistband. “How about off?”

He squirms onto his back and makes weak attempts to raise his hips, a weak attempt to shove them off with one hand. He covers his face with the other.

Naturally you take care of it. He fitfully tries to spread his legs too soon, too needy. You coo softly as you help work them off until they drop from his ankles.

“Okay, spread your pretty legs now. Good boy.”

He’s rewarded with you between his legs and your fist. It’s wet enough to pump in his cock in just moments. He must be a mess.

“Fuck!” he gasps, like he is coming as he grabs at his own hair, and his hips leap up. “Morepleasemore…”

With that, you brace his round, trembling thigh to keep him spread and pump his cock as quick and tight as he needs. Flicking your wrist in such a way, his back begins to raise in less than a minute.

"That's it, huh?—There you go.”

"Ngh!"

Another climax swallows him up harder than the first. He cries out into his arm as he shoots his load all over his heaving middle, taking desperate relief from your fist. His tail peaks in excitement.

But in the end it’s like he reached no release at all.

“‘m sorry,” he whispers as his hips twitch up.

“Don’t be sorry; you need what you need,” you soothe. Your voice is lower than before, like you’re holding yourself back. “Want my mouth now?”

After getting a small taste, he nods before you even finish speaking. His tail, twitching wildly, thwacks your knee multiple times. You drag his knees over your shoulders and kneel over his crotch.

He whispers, "Pleasepleaseplease—" all the way until your perfect warm soakingfuckwaiting mouth sinks down, making his whole body jerk up in your direction. His heels writhe on your upper back.

He moans at the ceiling as you get right down to bobbing your head, cheeks tightly hollowed from the base up to the tip. It’s embarrassing, even he registers, how loud he is.

In another short stretch of minutes, he claws at your shoulders and freezes as he shoots a powerful climax down your waiting throat.

He groans, grinding his balls on your lips fitfully. It’s wet, warm and utterly buttery inside, but it’s nothing compared to your pussy. But, the more he compares it, the more he imagines fucking your cunt, which can’t happen. Just can’t.

It doesn’t hit him that he’s holding your head in place in both fists and stuffing your throat on his own until he’s on his way to his third. Partly because you’ve gone so pliant, opening up for him to use.

This realization is enough to make him close. Both his feet drop to the floor for better vantage as he takes better hold of your hair and fucks your mouth relentlessly, taking, claiming. Cries and whimpers vibrate it the harder he fucks, and it goes on in a loop until he loses it.

“Fuck I’m coming—!” he manages to warn. Your nails sink into his thighs.

His cock throbs on your tongue. For a second he freezes, then he moans loudly at the ceiling. Quick clapping can be heard as his balls slap your lips, and he pumps more cum down your throat.

He humps for a while longer so you taste the throbbing, uselessly seeking complete relief where it can’t be found. It softens just a little, but fire continues raging in his core.

“S-Sure you’re okay?” he whispers, slurring most of it. He can’t see but a faint shadow of you in here.

You reassure him by humming, cracked and raspy as it is. Despite how he sounds, he’s still gripping your hair, so you begin to bob your head, slower this time. He groans a desperate sound.

Once he’s calmed down some more, you settle on taking this to the bedroom and talking about it when he can manage. Everything that happened just now screams how much he needs you for his heat, and yet you found him hiding in this closet. You can’t remember him ever doing this before.

“Oh…” He moans, following a dull thump as his head falls back. “Oh fuck. Fuck, shit.”

That's what you love to hear.

Sinking down, you notice his thick cock feels even plumper at the base. That’s his knot, and as soon as you get over your surprise and register that, his hips cant back in efforts to squirm away.

"Please," he croaks, soft. "P-Please stop."

Far more stunned by that, you pull off, rapidly blinking your tearful eyes and swiping your fist across your mouth. Drool and tears mixed together. His legs close.

You can’t see what face he’s making under his arm, but you try to reassure him anyway.

"'Vi, baby. Honey, just because it's stronger than usual or early doesn't bother me. And I can take it, I promise. You’ve prepared me plenty of times.”

He sniffs. You think he’s warring some inner battle with himself, and you desperately don’t want to leave him to fight it alone.

"Answer for me. I'll even leave you alone if that's what you—"

"I don't want that," he quickly hisses. His arm falls, and although it’s hard to see, you can make out his wide eyes. “I don't. Don't..."

His thighs press and grind together. He groans.

"...Don't leave."

I'm so confused...

You rub his knee, frowning. He’s giving so many mixed signals, but if nothing else, if he wants you to stay, you’ll always stay.

You think for a moment.

With an idea, you kiss his knee. "Do you want me inside you? More of my mouth?”

His ears straighten more upon hearing that. He relaxes a little, at least.

"Yeah. Need. Need you... It’s, too hard.”

You hum. "I've got you all taken care of."

He whimpers as you hook one arm under his knees, again as you slide the other behind his shoulders and lift him into your arms. The way he melts against you now couldn’t be more different from the way he hid from you earlier. He pushes his cheek against your neck and collarbones—everything within his reach—to mark you again and again, and through your tee, kneads your breast in handfuls. His flickering tail bats your hip, soft panting puffs against your neck.

He doesn’t lay still at any point.

"So needy," you murmur fondly. You can’t wait to take care of him, even if you weren’t riled up already.

He’s not only unable to deny it in the state he’s in, but he whines at the comment. His teeth have gone nibbling on your throat by the time you make it to the bedroom.

“Okay, baby, show me how you want me.”

As soon as the bed whines with his weight, he goes on his belly and raises himself up on his knees with his head stuffed in a pillow and his fists kneading the same. He’s so shy, in stark contrast to his peaky tail. He even sways his hips from side to side, like enticing you is necessary.

Muffled whines call out to you as you prepare in record time. You spread a towel out beside him, joined by a plug, a bullet vibrator and large, proper one with many settings—plus of course the strap.

You throw off your shirt and work your panties down your thighs. Wisely, you don’t get rid of them: you pet his ears as you lay them by his head. “Good?”

“Mm? Mm.” He takes a big breath, and steals them away.

“Perfect kitty,” you coo, and turn your attention to the strap-on.

"Please," he then chokes out. “Hurry, fuck. Put your fucking cock in."

Before you can get anywhere, he’s shoving his ass back against your crotch and keening, keening, thick and rough in his throat. His tail, twitching rapidly, beats against and coils around your calf.

“Fuck me now.”

"One second, Lee," you soothe. "Touch your cock for me, and I'll fuck you soon.”

Fuck, he’s so frustrated. His hips kick into his fist as soon as he gets his hand around it, but that isn’t enough anymore. He wonders if this will be enough at all.

If he could wait longer than a second, you'd take much more time working him open than pushing two soaking fingers in at once, but if it’s uncomfortable, he shows the exact opposite. He comes, again, as three curl deep inside, his fist flying over his cock, whining muffled in the pillow.

Talking will have to wait a while.

For now you put your troubles away and settle for taking care of him through the first wave. It always strikes you how fortunate it is since you started working from home that you don’t have to take off, or leave him alone when his heat demands you not. Especially when it hits him this hard, and out of nowhere.

You wonder if that’s the cause of his shift in demeanor for the last week. Hopefully it’s that. The worry was just starting to grow too severe to ignore that—something was wrong. Hopefully he just needs you, and because he’s Levi, he wouldn’t admit it upfront.

You turn off your thoughts again as you coat the cock until it’s glossy. This one’s his favorite—the tip is flared, lined with a few pronounced veins, and made as realistic as possible save for the large size.

The flared tip has only dipped past his rim when he shoves back again, moaning into the pillow with so much longing it resembles pain.

“I can take it. Fuck.”

“Okay, kitty, okay,” you soothe.

Still, you rock your hips with more than half of it opening him up so his body can adjust.

He groans with it fully sheathed. It feels like it’s splitting him in half—just the way he likes it. It’s so fucking big, it’s difficult to miss the spot inside that drives him crazy, and you waste no time shifting the angle so the fake cock hammers into it.

The round balls attached haven’t been smacking his hole for very long when he cries out, and you brutally piston your hips through another.

"That’s a fucking good boy," you groan.

In that brief window of time before he inevitably starts to squirm again, you snatch the bullet vibrator and push it up against his heavy balls on one of the loudest settings. You center your thrusts more brutally, and deeper than before. If you just reach with your finger, you can feel his slight knot, the same as before.

He sobs and claws at the bedspread. The noises he makes hit all four walls. His tail wraps around and locks on your calf as you please him through the start, and always most intense, part of his heat.

Anytime you ask if he’s tired, sore, or wants to change position after another climax tears through him, he just shakes his head and stubbornly grinds back on your cock again. It’s not like him unless he’s tired and wants to get through another wave, but you sense he’s distressed, too.

Regardless, you don’t stop until he’s spent, even though that means you’re heaving twice as hard for breaths and your hamstrings are sore.

With a final shiver, he finally sags down after the countless climax you’ve given him. Even his tail. But somehow, by his silence as well as the small knot swollen at the base of his cock that’s gone mostly soft—there’s little real relief in the aftermath.

“You did so well, my good boy. I’ve got you now.”

You work your cock out gradually while rubbing his sides in soothing strokes. When that’s done, you help him maneuver to a comfortable position on his side. You observe with a frown as he immediately curls up. A little cuter, he’s still clutching your panties bunched in his fist, propped under his chin.

"How're you feeling, Lee? Anything hurt?"

His bangs are nappy, random strands stuck to his forehead from sweat, which is dried everywhere. He catches his breath slowly, eyes tightly shut. Again, a little like pain.

"Baby..." you say softly. You crawl up to him on your hands and knees, behind him. Lightly and slowly, you pet his fluffy ears. "Something's wrong, isn't it."

"Didn't hurt me."

"...That's good," you sigh, not feeling good at all.

You rest behind him, wiggling one of your legs between his, and draping your arm around his waist. He sighs softly, relaxing a little (to your relief).

While you think, you brush his hipbone mindlessly with one thumb. His cock is even less flaccid than a few minutes ago now, reddened, and still swollen at the base.

But he says nothing. Now you're at a cross-road. In one last ditch-effort to learn how he's feeling, you suggest cleaning up. The noncommital grunt you get back is so unlike him, the situation becomes that much more urgent.

"You have nothing to feel embarrassed about," you say slowly, thinking as you go.

He tenses. "I know that," he snaps.

You close your eyes and let a silent breath out, steeling yourself. "I can't read your mind, but I know something's wrong. Maybe it's been wrong, since I noticed, you've been a little distant."

"So?"

"So I was worried..." You huff. "...maybe your feelings were changing, in a bad way. I'm still not really sure how true that is, but, I want to be here for you for whatever you need. I always want to."

To end your confession, you kiss the back of his head, and bury your nose in his soft, soapy-smelling hair. Although he's silent, and rigid.

He sniffs. "What if it's too much for you?"

You blink, processing that question. It doesn't make sense to you. "You're never too much for me."

"...I can't tell if they changed in a bad way."

"Could I?"

"Yeah."

Levi then drags the pillow over his face again. That seems like another end of the conversation for now.

For a while, you simply lay together. He gives no indication that he needs you again in that time, but then at some point, he shifts and raises his head, pointed in the direction of the door. He stares longingly at the tall laundry basket by the door specifically. Sighing weakly, he casts a look over his shoulder at you, lips pouting.

He wants to nest. With a chuckle, you kiss his forehead. The woven wood basket makes a faint scratching sound as you slide it up next to the bed. His mood is a touch better, you can tell—this is more routine.

As he sluggishly begins to drag articles out and arranging them, you walk downstairs, still nude, intent on getting him something to eat. He might not feel like eating, but he'll need the energy, and better now than when he can't think clearly later. That includes a few fluffy lemon bars stuffed with mochi, and black tea to wash it down with.

In the time you were gone, the nest of, to your surprise, both his clothes and yours is complete. It forms a sort of circular hill around the center of the bed, which is cushioned with the softest shirts. He lays on his back and legs spread far apart in the center of it all. The rounded head of the big vibrator he drags through his taint buzzes on a setting that escalates to a peak and down again in swift intervals. He's steadily pumping his cock with his other fist, and your panties enclosed in it. His chest leaps and falls with bitten gasps, and although it looks like he's enjoying himself, his squirming is frustrated, movements sloppy and uncoordinated.

You place the tray down on the dresser without taking your eyes off him.

Upon the sound of the faint clatter, his eyes open, and at the sight of you, he whines and abruptly switches the toy to a loud setting. You watch his thrusts turn more needy, his thighs quiver, and his toes curl on the bedspread. He whimpers curses when he comes.

After, he's only more riled up than before.

"Do you need more already?"

To give him space, you lean back against the tall dresser, and for the first time since you woke up, finally address the festering need between your thighs with your palm. Slippery cum instantly coats your palm.

"Ah..." His nostrils flare as he inhales. Very lightly his eyes roll back, punctuated by a moan as he rakes the buzzing vibrator up and down his shaft. Lingering on his knot, his back lifts off the bed with a soft cry. "Shit."

Your breath shivers when you sigh.

His eyes just barely crack open, showing a sliver of hazy, greyish-blue. "It's not enough. Fuck. Fuck."

As he pins the vibrations to his knot and he shakes all over, you rock one finger over your swollen clit. Fuck is right.

You make yourself stop. You need to talk.

"Not enough, huh? What do you need—need to fuck me, or even more than that?"

A small gasp makes his chest lift. The buzzing dies down, and now you have his attention. In his dazed state, he manages to look alert. He sets the toy down beside him (nearly missing the towel in his haste).

"D'you know?"

You have to strain your ears to hear him.

Do you know?

You pause. Maybe.

If you never went out of your way to understand hybrids, and by extension of course, Levi, it'd feel like something was missing. That was early-on, and years later you're still learning, but it would make sense. It's not your place to diagnose his feelings before he confirms them for sure.

You search your memories. It all makes sense, suddenly, his sudden heat and his reluctance to be near you then, and even before then. The little things you're used to suddenly shifting.

Your lips part. "Am, I your mate?"

Levi freezes. The silence is loud, confirmation enough. His eyes are practically shining, but then he looks away from you, and crosses his arms.

Your heart begins to pound. You kneel on the side of the bed, outside the mound of clothes to give him just enough space to talk comfortably. You refuse to let him pull further away, not if you can help it, and especially if he's scared.

"Do you think so?" you ask softly, forcing the anxious lift from your voice. You don't let yourself show your excitement. Yet. "Or do you know so?"

He mumbles behind his arm.

You climb into the nest of clothes, beside him, and squeeze his bent knee in a silent show of support. Just from that, he visibly shivers. Goosebumps rise on his pale skin.

"Hm?"

"I kn-know," he confesses. "Don't know when it happened. And I can't reverse it, or turn the shit off."

"Do you wanna turn it off?"

His arm that he was hiding under falls a little. He glares intensely at nowhere in particular. "I don't know." He squeezes his thighs together. "You had no say in it happening in the first place. I think it's clear what I want. That's why it happened."

You nod, dazed. "That's true, but you didn't know that I'd want that, too. I do want you. And I understand what that means."

His eyes tightly shut. "...Do you promise?"

"I do."

Your head is spinning a little, butterflies aswarm in your belly. No wonder he didn't tell you, but your decision is no contest. He never had to torture himself with this worry on his own. Not one bit.

He peers up at you with stars in his eyes. Delicately, you lean down and kiss him, and squeeze his hand when his snatches yours. Against them you murmur, "Don't worry anymore."

You kiss his jaw, then his tender neck, sweaty and oven-warm. His fingers wind in your hair.

"Wait," he grunts. "Has to be now. It won't stop until I fuck it inside you. God, fuck." His hips buck against your palm on their own accord. "I need you. Need you."

"I need you too."

Your comb his bangs off his damp forehead. Hardly a thought is left behind his grey eyes. His pupils are like round pools of oil. You lean down for another kiss, but his plump lips part, and a touch of drool appears at the side of his mouth. You get a taste of his canines when he buries his tongue in your mouth. They're sharp, somehow.

Oh.

With a strained whine, he goes rigid and still, clinging to your biceps helplessly. It's clear he's at the end of his own control over himself.

You peer down into his eyes, grey rendered to glazed, dark pools. "You can let go. How're you gonna mate me, baby? Where do you need me?"

"Can't hurt you. I can't control m'self when it..."

"I don't want you to control yourself, baby." You lick your lips. "I want you to mate with me."

The precise moment his control shatters is marked with a harsh growl, and in one swift movement he pushes you down on your belly. Gasping, you arch your back. That was fast.

Then his weight drapes over your back like a blanket, specifically his thighs outside your hips holding you in place. Panting beats over your ear as his thick biceps cage in your shoulders, and firm heat grinds up between your asscheeks.

"Shit, you smell so fucking good. Should be fucking illegal. You smell like you need t'be fucked.”

Your eyes lightly roll back as two long fingers effortlessly slide inside your pussy. He thrusts gingerly, mouthing and nipping at your soft throat. The sound he makes when he curls them and your pussy quivers should be reserved for actually fucking you. He continues rutting his cock against your ass.

You're whining, "Lee, Lee, please—"

"Tell me you want this. Want me. Tell me. Please."

You grind your ass back. "I want you. I need you. I need you inside already, please, 'Vi."

"Spread your pussy open wider."

Gasping, you obey, and rounded, heavy heat immediately appears against your rim. He whines as it catches on it, and in one powerful snap, his cock fills up your cunt.

Only, his knot is too swollen, smushed up stubbornly against your rim. He whines tightly, in distress it sounds like, and instantly begins fitfully grinding.

You gape into the pillow and cry out. It's not even inside you and it's so much more intense than a simple toy.

He bears down even harder on your back and brings his hand around, rubbing your clit with his palm in what can only be described as soothing motions.

"'m sorry," he mumbles. "I shouldn't've waited. Waited too..."

“S'okay, s'okay.”

A sudden and severe sense of emptiness overcomes you as his knot continue struggling to catch on it. Your head flops on the pillow, gaping. It stings. You grind backwards into it.

You knew something like this could happen, too—when the pheromones pelting off of him affect you to an extent too, certainly for mating. It makes sense so that you can have any hope of keeping up with him.

"Levi," you cry. "In."

He groans, a sound buried your tender throat. For a moment, he uses full force, no longer holding back in fear of hurting you.

A dull, heavy pop can be heard below as it finally buries in your rim, stretching it to your furthest limit. The force of it smushes his balls up against your hole. Your quivering pussy is crammed full of him, almost more than you can handle. Like it’s splitting you open.

“That’s it.”

A mixture of tight pain and a deep pleasure that scrapes somewhere you never even knew existed dizzies you. A thick moan stretches on by your ear, fogging what was left of your sober thoughts. He slams his hips, jerking you both forward, again and again.

“Oh fuck, kitty...”

“I can’t pull out anymore. I need to come, fucking, need your fucking cunt. Please. Please,” he moans. He rubs your clit with the heel of his hand in firmer circles.

Pleasure pulls and twists inside you. He can’t even move anymore, it feels like, with how swollen his knot is with his cum and your rapidly tightening walls. You feel with great clarity whenever his cock throbs, massaged by your pussy, and his thighs when his muscles flex, squeezing your hips.

"Oh—my god," you can't help but cry. "Big... Fuck it's so big... How..."

"'Cause—It's mating you," he whispers over hard panting. His nose bumps your cheek, almost violently marking you. "Don’t fight it so much. Relax for me. Let it happen. Your pussy wants it, too—I feel how tight it’s getting.”

You notice his efforts to hold as still as possible too, even him so you make yourself relax underneath his total weight. Levi is small, but is heavier than he looks, so there's no conceivable way you can even squirm away, and certainly not with his knot as swollen as it is.

"Levi, Levi, Lee..." you whine. "Oh god. Please. God, I need you to move. I’m so close.”

"Can’t move. You just lay still, take it. Come on my knot."

You squeak as three fingers swirl around your clit, and rake it quickly. More frantic marking. His hips grind in desperate attempts, sending shocks through both of you. You take a swift gasp, drawing rigid and tight. “Lee!”

"That's it...” he grunts tightly. “That's a good girl."

He feels it, the moment you reach your climax. The sudden squeeze, and the sob-like moan that bursts out of your mouth.

Tight, buttery fucking soft, cozy heat, and tight. You clamp like a vice, and your rim where it’s plugged is even tighter, and so just like that he gnarls his jaw and lurches into frantic humping while you shake violently underneath him. Very quickly his mind dissolves into pure, unadulterated and instinct. Just fuck. Just claim. Just mate.

He cries out a sound that hits the entire floor, the bed whines obnoxiously, but he still doesn’t register it over his knot pulsing so thickly, and begins draining. He finally fucking comes. Stronger and more of a release than any so far this morning combined.

He practically yowls, and incredibly he doesn’t hear that either. His heat and your climax is on his cock, in his ears, and he smells you on his tongue, his sense of smell overpowered. The only sensation over all of that is his jaw falling slack and the bite of pain in his canines. Saliva drips on your throat.

Somehow it’s not quite enough, something important missing, and he knows what it is—need to bite. Claim mate mine.

As he fucks your pussy like an animal, he sinks his teeth, including his canines, into your soft nape, and growls from somewhere primal deep inside. His teeth lock. He doesn’t, can’t, hold back anymore.

The sensation of biting. You drop completely limp and shout as he takes you for himself. It’s hard to say if it even hurts when everything else feels this good. The most is his load of cum, heavy and hot, flooding inside you. It’s a sting and something, blood trickling from your nape. He’s moaning, growling satisfied, punctuated by snaps of his hips. He’s even louder over the sound of your squelching pussy.

"Oh, god!—F-Fuck, Levi! Levi Levi Levi—”

Somehow his palm hasn’t stopped. He’s still fucking coming when when bright pleasure surges through you for the second time. Normally you’d be thrashing, but you’re trapped completely in a place, safe under his full weight, and both plugged up and pinned wide open on his knot.

But where you collapse, Levi can't stop. You prepared yourself for that—that while he knots, a constant but soft climax always has hold of him. It's over when he's empty, which you can't comprehend happening anytime soon.

Your signal when his next proper high washes over him is a gasp, his teeth sinking in a little tighter, and another load of liquid heat shooting inside your cunt. Your toes curl with a whiny sigh.

The pressure on your nape slackens again when he's finished, but in steady, smooth pumps, he keeps moving. His cock can even rut forward and back now, barely.

"Mmshit, sweetheart—" he moans, high in his throat. "Moremore, jus', ah keep, fuck... You're mine."

"Fuckyours—"

"Need t'come, inside, lemme breed your pussy again." He speeds up again, the squelching turning louder and harder. "So fuckin' soaked, so fuckin' good please—"

His sharpened canines sink in again. The skin is sore, raw, but then, why does it feel so fucking good? Even though your pussy is puffy and stretched to your limits, it doesn't feel like enough yet.

You're floating in a heavy sea of pleasure, sweat, and bliss when something firm and rubbery appears on your clit. The fucking vibrator.

"Keep coming for me. You're taking it so well," he whispers in your ear.

He switches it on and skips to a higher setting. You can't form the word please, too busy choking out a sob, and being catapulted through another high.

"Love—you," you hiccup, cut off by a gasp. The quick vibrations circle your clit. "Fuck, I love you."

"Hah..." He whines softly, lapping apologetically at your nape. "F-Fuck."

You don't completely expect him to return the words—it's not his way, and he's clinging onto you as if he's closing in on his next, too.

"...You too. Fuck. I'm."

You close your eyes, toes curling as it throbs again. Both your clasped hands are almost wet from sweat, but they hold tight nonetheless. It's less like he's mounting you anymore—he's almost laying on you.

After the fifth time, fifth or the fucking seventh, throaty purrs have begun rumbling in his throat. His tongue laps soothing motions over your nape, which has stopped bleeding, but you hope and suspect will leave a scar. Maybe that was his intention.

You became too sensitive for the toy a while ago, so you're simply existing in the haze now, taking him while being taken by him. His heavy balls clap your lips at a steady, slow pace. He breathes praises.

He has much more room to move now too, but at the consequence of, little by little, thick cum dribbling out, coating his balls and oozing down your thighs, drying there.

Has it always been like this? Your bodies pasted together by heat and sweat, listening to his roaring purring. You're dozing.

Now that you're more asleep than turned on, you properly wince as he again loses control, and his sharpened nails on one hand gripping your thigh—claws, just like his canines becoming more like fangs—sink in a bit too deep.

You whimper as fresh tears touch your sticky lashes. "Kitty. Too—Too hard..."

Purrs falter a little. He almost manages to stop completely, searching where you're referring to. Then he makes an injured noise.

"Shit," he breathes, his face dropping to hide in your throat. "I'm sorry. I didn't…”

"Just not so hard, s'okay. You take such good care of me. I know... 's a lot."

He moans, a noise that sounds ashamed. His hand lays down by your head, in the sheets. Instantly he begins kneading them. Panting escalates.

Another. His balls batter your hips for a slew of seconds before he freezes, and groans, a thick sound that stretches on into a mewl. You moan in bliss. Just when you think it's too full, too cozy and warm for your pussy to take more, your eyes roll back.

The quivers barely pass as a high anymore, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel a little more satisfied with each climax you push Levi towards.

His voice cuts through purrs. "Hurts?"

"Not anymore," you sigh.

He squirms, which is nothing new, until his lips appear on your sweaty cheek. You turn your head, and make weak attempts to kiss. Neither of you have enough energy to spare actually moving.

One of his hands stays locked in yours, as it has for what must be hours now. The other slides under your belly. You shiver to feel that it's actually distended slightly, you're that full of his cum. He moans down your throat.

"You're perfect," he whispers against your lips.

An approaching high takes you by surprise, even though it's weak. Then his fingers slide down, raking your clit.

"Ahh... Come on it for me. Again... There..." he fondles your clit a little faster. "There you go, sweet—ness. Come on it..." Then a small, whiny gasp. "Ah—ah—!"

"Oh... Oh...!"

It's more special when your highs strike you at the same time. A faint sob is muffled in your throat as his cock throbs thickly, and you're filled with more. It's less now, but it's still not finished, and it's taking its toll on him. It's easy to forget that.

"Doing so well. 'm so full," you murmur sleepily. You sigh. "Are you okay?"

He simply shakes his head, rocking his hips, making your pussy slosh at a firm, urgent pace again. "Please. Please I... I need t'come... Normally it's not..." He pushes his cheek against your temple. "...like this. Ugh, fuck... You need sleep. S..."

"Can... Can we lay down?"

"...Mm. Stay still. I've got you."

He arranges you both like it's his job, bracing your thigh—but not too hard, with his nails—and guiding you both down onto your sides. The reality of your stiff muscles slaps you in the face.

He rubs your aches away to the best of his ability with his front pinned against your back. His shaking fingertips ghost the scratches left on your hip.

A little shiver runs through you. "I don't mind them now..."

He makes a disagreeing sound, but accepts this answer.

As his thumb digs into a place on your lower back, you stretch your thigh a little, jostling his knot. An instant growl uncharacteristic of his touches makes you gasp. He slaps his arm down around your middle, above your swollen belly, and yanks you to him, shoving the knot even deeper than before you squirmed.

Gaping, your head nods back. He mouths your nape almost hungrily. A reminder that this isn't over yet.

"'m sorry. " he whispers softly. His hips rut without pace. "Did I hurt you?"

"I'm yours," you moan, and turn your head to look. His eyes are dark.

He kisses you, dotes over your lips almost, but eventually he gravitates back to your nape again, tonguing and kissing. He hikes one of your thighs up, stiffly thrusting with as much force and speed his knot will allow.

You gasp. "Fuck—fuck—fuck—"

"Again, again, fuck, hah—"

His teeth—at least the feeling is duller now—sink into your neck instead of your nape. It's only a little unpleasant next to the breathy moans that leap forth from his throat as he comes.

Dazed, you lay your head down. Breathless, apologetic kisses are sprinkled on your neck.

He snags a piece of the thin sheets, draping it over your lower halves. Just like that, you're half-asleep.

"I—I'll stay still," he breathes.

You link your fingers. "I need whatever you have to give me. I give you permission."

He says your name in disapproval.

You chuckle. “But I'll sleep some too, swear.”

He's purring again. Saying nothing, he headbutts your shoulder and marks your temple for a while. At some point, you doze off.

Levi pays close attention until he's sure of that, but of course, he can't sleep. He should've known better than to order himself to stay still the whole night. Deep inside, this rampant—however quiet now—need pushes him forward.

So he won't touch instead, and limits himself to slow, shallow rocking. He strokes your rounder belly, and mouths curses in your shoulder. He's always been a master of control over himself, and he won't let this be an exception. He's stronger than that.

His hard breathing escalates. It's so fucking close. The sweet stench of your thick, alluring lust dazes him until he's so close he can smell it. He bullies his palm in-between your closed legs, flicking your gooey clit in downward motions. You breathe a whine, but don't wake. It's quivering on his cock, and that's enough for him to freeze with a bitten gasp.

Even though you gave him permission, he still feels a sinking feeling. He hates that he has no control—it leaves him feeling helpless. He snaps his hips with more force than he meant.

He reminds himself that it'll calm down overnight, and in the meantime, tries his best to relax a little. Purring, he knows, calms you both down, and between climaxes, he gets to kneading and squeezing your breasts. He sighs softly.

Sometimes, you make a faint noise. And at a few select ones, you even wake to fingers scrubbing your clit and his defeated whimpering muffled in the pillow behind your head. It feels like it shouldn't be happening, that you have nothing left, but then you twitch awake with your pussy clamping tight on his cock, trembling in his arms as you come. Purrs and murmured praises lure you back to sleep.

It happens again around dawn. Faint grey light illuminates the bedroom, feeling like a swamp, stinking of sex with wet whining muffled by your neck. His hips rock in slight, but forceful bouts.

He's still going?

A cry is whispered by your ear, a mix of tears and his voice. "Ah..."

You're too weak to even squeeze his hand after a soft, barely-there high glows within you. Then his hips still, and more heat trickles inside.

Between slow, soft... delayed grunts, his hips pump. "Mine... Mine... Mine..."

You both moan at the same time. "My good boy..."

Noticing you're awake seems to make his climax more intense, for what it's worth. He drops on his side, completely limp, while slowly his cock softens to nothing. His knot is drained.

His only movement is his lips, mouthing lazily at your nape. Remnants of mine are muffled in the tender skin.

"Mm..."

His last climax oozes thickly from your pussy and collects on his balls, coating your sticky thighs. All that's left is his soothing deep breathing, not even purring. He's asleep. You smile, a big smile, to yourself.

Claimed. Mated. Mine.

Congrats on 1k! I have an idea for a drabble. Domestic with kitty!Levi. Smut prompts 24 and 116. Reader has never been fucked by a hybrid and Kitty!Levi uses a dildo with a knot on it to prepare her for what it will be like when the time comes. I'm a little feral over the idea of him working the knot in to her 😵‍💫

OH MY GOD YES!!!!!! AGH I LOVED WRITING THIS.. thank you

content/warnings: toys, oral (f!receiving), servicedom!Levi, hybrids; knotting (kitty Levi), breeding kink…?

wc: 1.2k

It isn't your first time having sex with Levi, and yet your nerves are palpable as he points out to you how the silicone cock will grow the knot. Before, when it was nothing but a bump near the base, you felt differently.

On your back, you brush your bare thighs together, slick with gush and Levi’s mouth, panting softly. You already came once, and you can’t decide if you’re excited for what’s about to happen, or going out of your fucking mind. Maybe both.

He licks his swollen lips, and touches your thigh to encourage you to open them. “It’s not different at first. Don’t worry, I’ll make you feel really good.”

You shiver despite yourself. “Kiss?”

A little chirp rings in the air. He leans forward, and eagerly, you reel him in.

It was your idea, borne from your anxiety, naturally. You love Levi, not despite, but especially because of the way he is, but you have never taken a knot before. Him fucking you has been a nervous fantasy until today, or at least halfway, because you’re going to be working up to it.

Between his legs, Levi must be throbbing, he’s so hard through his thin briefs. You know the toy will be nothing like him, nothing as big or as intense, but you’re wary enough about the knot to keep going... especially when he’s here to guide you.

You pull away holding his hand, which he sets on your hip, over the bone. Then he nestles between your legs, flat on his belly.

“Relax,” he reminds you under his breath. Wet kisses are speckled down your navel, and then the cock is gliding through your folds, warm and thick.

You hum high in your throat, your cunt quivering around nothing. When you begin to squirm, the tip is worked in easily, and pushed, pulled.

“Oh fuck,” you gasp. “That’s good.”

You both knew it would be.

Levi watches your face through his lashes, ears peaking with interest. “Good. Good girl. It’ll be small at first.”

You hiss with the first sting of the knot, threatening to push inside. "Levi, is that it?"

A soft kiss is pressed to your clit. He licks, moans just softly. "Mm. Mhm.”

The cock stills, and pulls an inch or two, then buries back in. Your pussy eager accepts it while you moan in bliss.

Levi pushes his arm under the bend of your knee for the bottle of lube. The syrupy liquid drips onto your clit, and oozes down.

You jerk. "Fuck."

"So sensitive."

You feel the flick of his ear against your thigh as he pushes his cheek into it. A rough fingertip parts your cunt so the warming lube dribbles down where the working knot is pressed snug to your hole, threatening to grow with the slide of a switch.

The lube's effects heat your clit, icy but deliciously warm, making your toes curl, and Levi's easy thrusts jam for a moment. You pant, "Kitty."

He starts to purr, which vibrates your upper thigh. Imagining his mouth, suctioning your clit with those vibrations, it makes you shiver.

"I'm gonna try it," he says softly, breaking the purr like cutting radio static. "Relax. It won't be as firm as this."

"Y-You, you mean?" you ask, and fail to register whatever he says next as the knot catches on your rim, and slides inside. A firm squeeze of his hand reminds you to relax.

"Fuck, it's big," you whimper. "Oh my god, ah."

"I'm letting it grow." Levi's voice sounds rougher than before. "Looks so tight... I wonder how much you could make me cum when I fuck you."

"M-Mm..."

“Tell me how you like it.”

You feel yourself heat all over at the request, but you can’t—you can’t even speak as the knot grows between Levi’s simple rocking motions.

He licks your clit. “It’s getting bigger. Tell me.”

“It—” You gape at the dull pleasure pounding below your clit. “It stings, but I need it so fucking bad, god.”

Your head falls back. “You could breed me with it?—As deep as you can go?”

Levi borderline growls, vibrating your inner thigh as he sinks his teeth in. A fluffy tail whips your knee, then wraps around it.

“Yeah,” he replies, barely restrained. Your tight cunt is swallowing the knot before his eyes, and working it out a little, it’s glistening and slathered in creamy cum. “Yeah, I could. If you want it.”

“Tell me when you want it so bad.”

It’s like you're being split in half. Levi senses the grimace forming on your face, and angles it slightly. A searing tongue sweeps flat over your clit, and rubs, back and forth and back—a massage.

“Want it when I’m in heat,” he manages over your loud panting. His hot breath puffs against your clit. He speaks in a slew, "Wanna breed you f-…full of my cum. Wanna make you fucking beg to be mine.”

Your hips jerk as he hits that spot. “Please.”

The knot is as fat as Levi can make it, and fuck—your hole is all but wobbling around the half of it you're taking. He spots it through his lashes, his tongue on your clit.

“Levi... so fucking full.”

“You can take it,” he encourages, and pushes. “Be good.”

The thick pop as the knot’s girth slips past your rim goes straight to his cock, pinned to the bed.

“I’m gonna come,” you groan, quivering. A hand dives into his hair, and pulls.

Levi’s eyes flutter with a full moan. This time, his purring pushes through his throat without command.

Bittersweet tang permeates his tongue. He laps for it.

For the first time, his measured thrusts pick up, along with your gasps.

He wants to feel it. Feel your cunt barely working his round knot it’s so big, and if he were in heat, he’d plug your pussy full before it's small enough to slip out.

“Breed you all night,” he’s rambling, suckles on your twitching clit. “Put you on your back so you’re bred full. Take a pretty picture of you begging for cock.”

Your back jumps off the bed with a gasp. He feels your thigh against his cheek harden and shake, and with a cry, you're coming.

His vibrating tongue vigorously swipes your clit all the way through it, prolonging it. Your moans, most his name, hit the air to the wet squelching for every snug inward thrust.

As your sweet noises dissolve into whimpering and your thighs try to jerk shut around his head, Levi slows, licking his lips, ears and tail both perked up high.

Gradually, he slackens the size of the knot as well. He’s pleased to see your creamy white gush spill out when it’s shrunken to its smallest size.

One arm is strewn over your face, breaths gaping. Seems you’re still recovering.

“See, was that so bad?” he drawls, sitting up. “Was it okay?”

“Wait.” Your hand falls on his, pausing him from working the cock out of you. Your hazy eyes implore him. “More, please. I want more.”

Levi’s teeth sinks into his bottom lip. “More?—You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Knot me.”

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[shxt-txt]

All Might x F!reader (smut)

Hello, I have been thinking for a long time about writing something to post here. Today I got some time and was inspired! I want to say my special thanks to @tired-teacher-blog who encouraged me to write again ♥

I thank whoever takes the time to read it, I hope it pleases you, dear reader.

♦ Sorry, English is not my first language, so the text may have some mistakes. But I did my best!

With luv, C.

Warnings: bad words, faceriding, vaginal sex, squirting, choking, breeding kink, agnst, unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), nipple play, praise.

~ All Might suddenly breaks up with you, leaving you heartbroken, of course. In an attempt to forget him, you seek refuge, but will it be enough? How long can you be without your number one hero? ~

You could hear the gentle rain drops hitting the window while you sobbed the most quietly you could, after all, you were far from home and that caffe was not the best place for a lady to cry. It was a matter of time 'til someone to come and ask if everything was alright. Well, deep in your mind a big storm has formed, your heartbeat seemed slow, weak… Not physically, of course emotionaly. You stared for minutes that seemed more like hours the mug of coffe and the money he left in front of you, that empty space hit you harder than all the villains you fought before, what a brutal pain.

His words kept repeating and repeating on your mind, saying a million times that you two couldn't be together anymore, simply like that. But why? Why the biggest love of your life that asked you to be his girlfriend one year before now acts like he dosen't give a shit to your feelings?

It didn't take long for the waitress to come and ask you if everything was okay, while collecting the money left on the table by Toshinori.

"I'm fine, sorry." Your voice slipped out low, almost inaudible. "Please keep the change." As you got up to leave, the waitress stared at you worriedly. You walked out of the cafe looking down trying to hide your crying expression, you had barely touched the cup of tea you ordered.

Later that evening, after a long bath in which you stared half the time at the ceiling in the bathtub, you were sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table with a futon over your legs, wondering what Toshinori was doing now. But when you realized that you were thinking about him again, you furiously nibbled your own lip as you muttered through your teeth that you should forget about him. But your heart was screaming for that man, the flame that burned inside your chest was absolutely impossible to ignore. After spending that whole year being his girlfriend, how could he now act like you didn't even exist? How could All Might be so cold? Bastard. How dare he?

The days went by, and so did the weeks. Until one and a half months has past. Working at the UA as a teacher was being harder than imagined, after all, you met him almost every day there. The corridors seemed narrower everytime you saw him, as if the walls were almost pushing you into the arms of your beloved. But you would never dare do that, of course, you wouldn't humiliate yourself like that. He was the one who turned his back on you. But surely the worst of it all was that now your dearest Toshi wouldn't even look at you, he would lower his head or even look the other way when he realized your presence.

It was clear how much it was affecting you but no one spoke about that, until the day that in one of the tests of the students against the teachers, you were easily defeated. The principal Nezu wanted to know what was affecting your performance, your answer was that you were just “tired”, so he offered you a few days off to rest.

Maybe this was the best thing for you now.

The problem was that everything in your house reminded you of him, every corner had a bit of All Might in it. The days and nights you spent together, cooking, watching TV, cleaning, resting, making love, bathing… Everything.

Maybe you should move, a very small apartment would be more suitable for a single woman. The double bed you were sleeping in was already too big… Empty, to be exact.

So you decided to travel and stay for a while at your grandmother's house, since your parents lived in another country. The seven days off that the principal gave you would be enough to calm your nerves, even more by staying in a place as quiet as your grandparents' country house.

~

"Honey, won't you stop for a while to eat?" Your grandmother was a very sweet and kind person, and very protective of her beloved grandchildren. "I made your favorite!"

"I'm coming Grandma!" You replied excitedly as you organized some vegetables you had picked that afternoon.

Your grandparents were so into plant life that, even in retirement, they continued to work at planting. Besides the flowers they planted in the garden, you loved them. And for a while you were able to put Toshinori aside and enjoy that moment with your beloved grandparents.

After eating a lot you went to take a nice warm bath, wearing a simple dress to sleep. Summer is a rainy season and it didn't take long for the raindrops to start falling. This reminded you of the instant Toshi invited you to the cafe, telling you that he needed to tell you something important. Eager to know what was that, you went more than quickly, only to hear those harsh words from him.

You sighed, feeling again a painful tightness in your chest, almost as if someone were crushing your heart with their fingers.

As you lay down on the warm futon, your thoughts continued to wander through the night. How you missed those arms enveloping you completely, the deep tone of his voice against your ears, his calloused hands touching every inch of your being. The warm kisses you exchanged, the nights of pleasure when the only thing you could scream was his name.

"Toshi…" you murmured before falling asleep with watery eyes.

In the middle of the night you noticed strange noises coming from outside, they sounded like animals stirring in the dirt of the garden. You slid open the sliding door to find All Might staring at you, soaking wet from the rain.

"I... I didn't know which house I should enter, and... " He began to speak, as if it was normal for him to be there. "Nezu told me that you had taken a few days off, I went to your house and couldn't find you. A neighbor commented that you had come to visit your grandparents, so I-"

You didn't even give him time to finish speaking, you slapped him as hard as you could, as if all that pain you were feeling was concentrated in your hand, hitting the face of the man standing before you.

He stood motionless for a few moments, in silence. Perhaps processing what had just happened.

"How dare you show up here?" Your urge was to scream, but of course you couldn't, you didn't want to wake your grandparents. "You're nothing but a bastard, you dumped me like a bag of garbage and now you appear before me as if nothing happened?"

He remained silent as you spoke, only moving his face forward again.

Involuntarily your fists began to strike the wet chest of the number one hero. His white shirt showed off his muscles perfectly, but that was no focus right now. All Might remained silent until you began to cry, punching his chest with small punches non stop.

You only stopped when his huge arms wrapped you in a kind embrace, comforting you against his chest.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N). I shouldn't have left you. I came to clear things up… If you want to continue as we are, that's fine. But I hope you will choose to be mine again."

"How do you expect that I can forgive you like this?" Your voice was shaky from crying.

"I was afraid. Remember two weeks earlier we were attacked and you almost died? That shook me up, seeing the woman I love succumb because of me would be the death of All Might." His arms pulled away a little, allowing him to caress your cheek gently. "Recovery Girl was impressed with the amount of injuries you were able to sustain without passing out."

"And you were afraid it would happen again? Why didn't you say anything to me? Why did you just broke up and left?"

On one hand, you understood him, but the way he did it really hurt you.

"I'm weakening (Y/N). I can't keep my muscular form for more than three hours now, soon I won't be able to be strong and protect you anymore. I fear for your life."

His blue eyes finally met yours again, the gentle touch of cold hands against your warm skin gave you goosebumps. Your heart was beating almost to the point of stopping. Toshinori really was the love of your life.

"Toshi, I can take care of myself. I may be not like you and my quirk is nothing but a support… But I can beat some villains on my own. If loving you means risking my life every single day, so be it."

After your confession, his eyes gained a sparkle and his wide smile returned to his face.

"That's why I came after you, my love. I kept saying to myself that being apart was the best for us. But deep in my heart I knew I was not going to be able to fix things if I let you go for too long."

And again he hugged you, his wet body was also getting you all soaked, but that didn't matter. The two of you just wanted to enjoy some of the touch that you had missed so much.

"As long as I live, I want to be by your side." He whispered close to your ear, giving you shivers again. "Forgive me."

You didn't need anything else, you kissed him imediately. That was your answer.

All Might took you in his lap and you promptly wrapped your legs around his waist, closing any gaps between your bodies. The need for both of you was so great that you didn't mind the rain, he took a few steps back, and now you were both being enveloped by the raindrops that kept falling. In a few seconds your hair and clothes were wet, as were his.

The kiss you exchanged was full of love, passionate, as if you both didn't had contact in years. Your fingers intertwined with your lover's blond hair, caressing them tenderly while he stroked your back.

The world could end in that instant and you wouldn't complain, being in Toshinori's arms was what mattered. Your heart was now pounding but with happiness, the taste of his mouth was too divine to live without. The warmth of that body, though wet, couldn't compare to anything else, much less his gentle touches and caresses.

It didn't take long for your body to begin responding to all that stimulation, the heat between your legs was increasing with each second. That needy kiss had to be interrupted for you both to catch some breath, so you took the opportunity to invite him in.

"If you stay quiet, my grandparents won't know…" You whispered with a smile at the corner of your lips. You felt like a teenager again.

In a few moment your clothes were lying on the floor of the bedroom, and you both stepped into the shower together, exchanging even more caresses and kisses in the process.

All Might is huge, strong, even in his "weak" form, he doesn't stop being tall and his cock doesn't change anything. No matter what form he is, your love and desire don't change. But that night apparently he was willing to give you his best form, the muscles of his abdomen rubbed against your back under the shower as his huge hands roamed over your soapy body.

He touched your shoulders carefully, sliding his manly hands along the delicate skin to your waist, bringing your body even closer to him. He brushed his lips against your right shoulder, kissing it a few times.

Your nipples were hard, your pussy was screaming for his touch, but Toshi knew exactly how to drive you crazy. He touched you in all the right places, softly kissing the back of your neck as he whispered a lot of praises in your ear.

"I love every inch of your body…" He says, in a soft voice.

Now he finally touches your breasts, playing with both nipples by making circles with his thumbs, slowly caressing that area by squeezing them gently. Your parted lips let little gasps escape, without even realizing it you tilt your head to the side, allowing Toshinori to kiss and bite some more of the exposed skin in that area.

"I will never... let you... go of my arms... again..." He paused his sentence to kiss your skin every single word that came out of his mouth.

Deep inside, you could still feel some pain as you remembered the moments you were away from him, crying, mourning… How could you live without this man by your side? Especially after knowing him as a lover. No one is perfect, but Toshinori was certainly worth being with. He's caring, kind, funny, your best friend, amazing in bed… This man really had qualities that outweighed his defects.

As you stepped out of the shower, you both dried off carefully and snuggled together on the futon.

"I love you." He said as he stared into your eyes.

You climbed over his body and answered him.

"I love you too, Toshi."

And you bent over his chest, letting your breasts boucing against his skin, kissing him again. Your tongue eagerly sought for his in a thirsty kiss as your hips moved against his already erect dick. Your bodies yearned for more… And you were on the edge, respecting your grandparents' home was important, but you couldn't go without having your lover fuck you like you deserved that night.

"You know… You really hurt me." You interrupted the kiss to speak, which made him express his sadness immediately. "I hope you're ready to make up for it…" You stood up only to sit on his face, the expression of sadness soon fading and one of surprise taking its place.

But he understood. Toshinori then veraciously attacked your pussy, slidding his tongue over your folds immediately, your taste invaded his mouth making him moan with satisfaction. Then your clit was the target of his wet lips, he licked and sucked it with desire, making you shudder above him, covering your mouth with both hands to avoid screaming with pleasure. He began running quick circles on your clit, feeling it swell even more, your arousal mixed with his saliva was making his lips and chin all wet.

Your orgasm was building but you still wanted more, then your hips began to move rhythmically, back and forth so that he could lick you as you wished. Meanwhile All Might's huge hands grabbed your ass cheeks, squeezing them as he sucked on your labia and clit with a lot of wet sounds. At this moment, his cock continued to pulsate against his own abdomen, hard as rock.

The noises of him eating you out were loud, but by now, you didn't even care anymore. Your legs were trembling and your body felt like it was on fire, as you looked down you realized that his blue eyes couldn't stop staring at you, he opened his mouth just a few milimeters of your cunt and exposed his tongue for you, so you could see your juices all over him.

"Cum for me, let me taste it." He asked.

"Oh God…" That vision, that voice… You coudn't resist.

One of his hand came closer to your pussy and pulled some of the skin, exposing even more of your clit, swollen and pulsating. Then the blond man grabbed that small organ and sucked it hard, moaning hungrily.

You more that quickly clamped your lips together as soon as you saw him do this, intense pleasure overcame you and then you came against his mouth vigorously. Toshi licked every single drop of your juices.

For a few moments he admired your pussy pulsating for him, as if calling him for another round. Of course,he could be there licking you for hours. But surely you two had other plans.

He waited for you to move again, helping you to lie down. He came on top of you, kissing your lips, cheeks, neck, slowly moving down to your breasts, on which he sucked the hard nipples eagerly. Both of the hero's hands squeezed them without ceasing while intercalating the nipples. His tongue wandered over each part of your breasts, licking and sucking your skin carefully, leaving a few marks.

"Toshi... I want you..." You whispered.

Your legs were wrapped around his waist again, the tip of his cock was rubbing against your clit, teasing you. Your pussy was begging for it. You could feel the pre-cum escaping from his pink glande.

Of course your lover didn't want to make you wait too long, but you needed some time to get ready for it, after all, he was huge.

Slowly he began to penetrate you, stretching the inner walls of your pussy as only he could. The moans had to be contained, so you just held them in your throat, even if you wanted to scream. Gradually he invaded your interior in a mixture of pain and pleasure, you were so wet that you practically sucked him into your tight interior.

Toshi groaned low, trying to contain himself as well, you're squeezing him so tightly that you could feel every vein.

Your hands roamed up and down your partner's arms and back, dragging your nails across his body without caring if left marks or not. Your bodies collided every now and then as he forcefully shoved everything into you, and on one of these occasions you bit hard on his shoulder, which was no bother at all for him.

His two hands were on the floor for support, one on each side of your head, and you caught his gaze and fixed your attention there. You stared at each other for long seconds, motionless, until your tongues were again entwined in another kiss, and then he began to thrust against your pussy. His cock slammed against your uterus every time, even though he didn't put everything inside you. This brought you to a state of absurd ecstasy. Your clit was hard and swollen again, pulsating with lust.

His cock slid in and out of you with ease, your juices were running down your ass as his heavy balls were slapping there too. At one point, All Might pulled his cock out and rolled you onto your stomach, putting one arm around your neck and with the other hand covering your mouth so you wouldn't scream. He knew exactly what to do.

The sloppy noises were inevitable, after all, he was lying on top of you, ruthlessly shoving that huge cock into you, humping you as he loved to do. You were totally helpless against him, that was enough to rip your sanity away.

He buried his full length inside your pussy again, your scream was muffled by his palm that forced itself even harder against your lips. Your eyes rolled back in their orbits, your saliva leaked out of the corner of your mouth just as your pussy kept spurting out your sweet nectar, further wetting the futon where you were lying on.

You wanted to scream, to beg for more, to ask to be destroyed by him until your legs were completely weak. Every inch of your body wanted more, it was clear the power All Might had over you. Only he could fuck you like that.

"I bet you missed that, uh?" He whispered against your ear, very softly.

The only thing you could do was shake your head a yes.

He wanted to slap your ass, but he couldn't make any more noise than he was already making, so he just let go of your neck and grabbed your buttocks tightly, spreading your ass to expose your butthole. It was winking, he wanted it there too, but it was not the time or the place for that.

Without warning All Might pulled of from your pussy at once and leaned over your body, licking your ass and pussy again. You had to dunk your head into the pillow to prevent from moaning out loud, that man was killing you. Slowly you raised your hips until you were in all fours, giving him a very good view of you.

"What do you want me to do now, my princess?" He knelt behind you, holding your ass with both hands, waiting for your answer to continue.

"Fill me up."

Surprised, he widened his eyes but did not move.

"Cum inside me, please. Give me every single drop..."

He smirked and agreed, his cock was pulsating evidencing that he had been holding it in for some time now. He then penetrated you again, this time with less gentleness, burying everything until his balls hit your clit over and over until he increased the speed.

His hands gripped the flesh of your waist, pulling on your body at each thrust, reaching your cervix every time, he was close and you could feel it. Then you started to wiggle erotically against his dick, then he stopped moving and just stared, enjoying the view.

"Fuck… I'm gonna cum so fucking hard…" The instant he said it, he grabbed your ass again and buried himself into your pussy, releasing strong, hot jets of semen against your cervix. You could feel him filling every inch of your pussy with his seed. It seemed like it wouldn't stop, until he pulled out, the thick cum started flowing down of your cunt onto the floor.

Promptly he got up to get something to clean you off.

"Are you sure it's okay for me to cum inside like that?" You two were already laid down again, he asks with a little bit of concern.

"Well… I've always wanted you to do that." Your fingers touched his face very gently, caressing his skin.

"Always? Why didn't you ever tell me? You are the only woman I would ever want to have a child with." He had a little bit of blushing on his cheeks saying that.

You shared a laugh and exchanged one last kiss before falling asleep together. No matter if new villains would appear, you were willing to fight for your love until the end.

[k3rm1e]

cuddling headcanons! ★~(◡﹏◕✿)

this is more of a test thing to see if i like writing this way and if this blog does well

other imagines and headcanons won't include everyone i write unless it is specifically requested and is a prompt i really like

includes: wilbur nihachu karljacobs quackity dream georgenotfound sapnap p!tommyinnnit p!badboyhalo p!skeppy p!eret p!philza p!tubbo p!ranboo

cw: cursing

wilbur:

wilbur is a very cuddle-y guy

to me he seems very soft

i always see people saying he would like spooning, but i disagree

i feel like he would do more of a half-spooning thing with his head on your chest or the other way around

mans would DEFINITELY make you run your fingers through his hair

i feel like he would lay on your chest and just *nuzzle* into the space between your shoulder and neck

anytime you tried to leave him, whether it was because he had to do something or you had to, he would whine. so. fucking. much.

It would probably always go something like:

you - i need to piss

wilbur - no <3

but the moment he decides its time to stop cuddling its fine

and if you complain that you’re gonna miss him he’ll just call you clingy and tease you

like??? sir???

all in good fun though, no bad intentions :)

nihachu:

i feel like you and niki would face each other

with your head like under her chin and in her chest (this is a bad description but look at the “honeymoon hug” on the list for better explanation ;-;)

she would always want to protect you

so she does that by like almost guarding you and keeping you close

niki would definitely do the arm thing where she just lightly moves her hand up and down you arm

i’m so sorry if you don't understand that, it just feels like something she would do

if you haven't experienced that it kinda sorta feels like spiders??? but in a good way???

but generally she is very protective

she just holds you so close the whole time

even if she doesn’t want to let you go, she’s more understanding about it

she would be upset but wouldn’t show it because she doesn’t want to make you feel guilty

niki is generally just an amazing cuddle-r (is that a word?) and has a super comforting presence

karljacobs:

karl would definitely keep your head on his chest

the whole time he would just absolutely squeeze the life out of you

he would constantly bend his neck down to kiss your head

and instead of just like leaving his head down so he could kiss you it would just be:

*inner monologue karl* hmmm i wanna kiss them on their head

and he would lean down to do so which, cute

but then five seconds later he would do it again

and again another five seconds later

and again

very cute karl but please sir, your neck is gonna be so messed up after this

when you had to leave he would be upset, but like niki, would try not to show it

except karl is very bad at that and his pouting would be so obvious

so you would feel guilty and layback down with him

immediately he just becomes (●´ω｀●)

like a happy little puppy

karl is just too adorable for you to deny

quackity:

now we all know this, quackity is a huge dork

which is why i believe he would DEFINITELY use your butt as a pillow

not even in a weird way

i just feel like quackity isn’t too comfortable with touch so this is sorta his way of being close to you without it being a whole serious thing

like he still is able to be goofy and comfortable without it being a whole big thing

him doing this would almost always come with a flatty patty joke from you

which always causes him to threaten divorce, even though you aren’t married

while it isn’t a very good position for things like physical touch, it is good for talking and having conversations

for some reason i feel like he’s the type of person to text someone when they’re right next to each other

so while he’s laying down he’ll just send you random photos of himself

very annoying when your phone is spammed, but also good blackmail material >:)

i don’t think he’d be too clingy

obviously, he enjoys spending time with you

but if you told him you need to go do work or something he wouldn’t throw a fit or pout

big q just seems like he’d be more rational about stuff like that

overall a 420/69 cuddle partner

dream:

one word: spooning

mans just envelops you and has no shame

very big: “no you are mine! >:(“ energy

while he’s sleeping he’ll unconsciously nuzzle his head into your hair/the back of your neck

when you guys got to bed patches usually climbs in and you hold her

i love patches so much i could write headcanons just about her

dream always wants to be cuddling you

if you try to leave he won’t pout, there simply isn't a discussion on whether you’re moving or not

incase you haven’t caught on yet, the answer is no

you need to do work? just bring the laptop to bed

he needs to edit? just sit in his lap at his desk, duh

obviously, he knows at some point you guys need to stop cuddling

he just isn’t too stoked about it

when it comes time where he absolutely can’t cuddle with you, i feel like he’d be more chill

mainly just annoyed

georgenotfound:

i feel like george, like quackity, also wouldn’t be too touchy

i’m pretty sure he has a hard time expressing emotions (please correct me if i’m wrong!!) and i think that would crossover to his sleeping habits

i think he would prefer a sort of back-to-back cuddling position

it seems cold, i know

but also he would most definitely kick at you

so every night while trying to go to sleep suddenly you would just feel *kick*

and then instead of sleep you’re suddenly playing footsie

lots of laughter and warm feelings involved

george would probably pretend that you kicked his leg hard or something and act like you hurt him

the first few times you were actually worried

but then after a few months your only response was a sarcastic “cry about it”

which just led to more laughter

sapnap:

sapnap and you would do a sort of leg hug thing

you both you try to go to sleep in a cute spooning-type position

but the moment one of you fell asleep it all unraveled

you would wake up apart but you’re legs would still be touching

sapnap would joking blame it on you

“wow can’t believe you don't wanna be close with me even when we’re asleep”

“it’s not my fault! i can’t control where i end up when i sleep!”

“no, no. you don’t have to lie. i see how it is.”

“>:(“

but it's okay!

your legs are the first thing to react in a flight-or-fight situation, so they usually react in an honest way

which is like your legs are both reaching to hold each other!

p!tommyinnit:

i don’t get a very touchy vibe from tommy

i feel like the most he would do is put his arm over your shoulder

not in a flirty way, just in a “hey, there isn’t a lot of space, this will make sitting down more comfortable” way

he will let you sorta fidget with his hand/arm

i don't know if that makes sense but what i mean is that he’ll pretty much let his arm go *flop* so you can control it (by like moving it around or playing with his fingers)

in the beginning he would get annoyed

but eventually he would get used to it and wouldn’t really care

it sounds a bit strange but i personally find it very comforting to just have something to fidget with while watching youtube or netflix in bed with my friends

and it’s entertaining (sometimes i do this to me sister to annoy her :>)

he would act like he didn’t mind if you left him

but holy shit he is so clingy

If you try to leave it’ll just be “no, why??? stay here dumbass”

you would be slightly annoyed when he had to leave  but knew he had to film and stream and all that so you would be okay

p!badboyhalo:

you would kinda sit within bad’s lap

like not on his lap, but more of in between his legs

he would have his arms around you

and his phone would be in front of you so you two could scroll through twt or instagram together

or you guys could watch skeppy’s youtube ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

rat would sit in your lap

she’s just;;;;;;;; so adorable

rat is just so soft and fuzzy in your lap and everytime you move to pet her she just melts

rat is the the superior cuddle buddy to any of these block people

p!skeppy:

skeppy, similar to quackity, is a total dork

he would make sure you guys were in a position where he could effectively troll you

so if your head was near his lap he would just flick you or some

“dude can you please stop hitting me in the head”

“it turns out i am not actually hitting you in your head because based on the perpendicularity of the bisector multiplied by the photosynthesis of the dividend, it is impossible for me to do so”

“wtf”

lya is so goddamn sick of you guys

she's trying to get him to actually do something but instead he’s just sitting there throwing paper airplanes at you while you sleep

he’s an annoying asshole but it's okay because he gives you money for absurd reasons

p!eret:

eret has such a comfortable presence

i feel like she wouldn’t be up for cuddling too much

more of like putting your head on a friends shoulder so you can see the tweet their showing you

but they do like to hold hands

holding hands isn’t very intimate but it's also just such a sweet comforting thing

she even holds your hand when you guys are out walking around

like if you guys were getting food somewhere (post-covid of course)

you most likely would get addressed as a couple

and he would just be like”...wut?”

it’s happened so many times at this point you just go along with it

“you guys look like such a cute couple!”

“oh we aren't-” “thank you!”

can you tell that i love eret?

p!philza:

phil always has such dad vibes

i feel like the closest he would get to cuddling is hugs and hand holding

even though cuddling isn’t inherently romantic, he is married to kristen

so i fell he would get most of his touch in with her

but with you he’s just so fatherly

hello dadza

whether you have a good or bad relationship with your father, everyone can admit that philza minecraft is dadza

this is such a dad thing, but tries to hold you hand when you cross the street

no matter the age, he just feels the need to protect you

hugs are similar

uses hugs as a way to comfort you and protect you

just so amazing all around

p!tubbo:

tubbo would love cuddling in any way, shape, or form

if you guys are hanging out at like the park or something and lying down

get ready to become this mans pillow

this is really fun to do with your friends but imagine you guys are hanging out in a field type area (with my friends we hand out in the field next to the cemetery but it can be any open grass area)

tubbo would just use your lap as a pillow the whole time

and when you guys were walking back to his house he would sorta drape his arms over your shoulders (assuming he’s taller than you)

he would do the same thing when you guys were sitting in chairs or at a desk

just drapes his arms over your shoulder with his chin on your head

if it's really late and he's tired he’ll just hug you

p!ranboo:

if you thought tubbo is bad, ranboo is even worse

not even really cuddling, he just likes having a sort of skin-to-skin contact

so handholding and laying on top of eachother

if he’s streaming he will legitimately message ou to just sit next to him

so sometimes if he’s just chilling by himself on the smp you’ll end up on his streams

he’ll have you next to him just because he likes be near someone

and so randomly it’ll just be like “chat, a real human is here, behave”

chat does not behave

(they heavily bully him)

he’s pretty clingy but when you HAVE to leave he’ll understand and just be a bit bummed out

holy shit this took me so long-

if you read this whole thing thank you!

[bluesfortheredj]

The missing scrunchie.

A/N: Mentions of blood/death from the outset.

It’s impossible to not fall in love with Eddie Munson, even when he steals your scrunchie.

Blood.

So much blood.

His body was laying in the road, shirt torn open, wounds oozing.

He chokes, splutters, and his breathing falters as he inhales liquid.

You drop to your knees and try to crawl towards him but you can’t move, your legs and arms feeling as though they’re stuck in concrete blocks as you attempt to slide them along the dirt.

He turns his face towards you, those big, brown eyes of his losing their sparkle second by second.

“(Y/N),” he coughs, “please help me.”

Thick red liquid drips from his lips onto the ground, and you begin to cry, your body heaving with sobs as you desperately try to move forwards to be with him.

“Eddie!” you scream, tears falling down your face as if a tap had been turned on.

You just couldn’t move, no matter how hard you tried, and all you can do is watch as the light finally goes out in his eyes, his body now completely limp. A guttural cry emanates from your throat and you wake with a start; your eyes flying open as your body sits up almost automatically as you begin to pant.

“Oh god,” you whisper to yourself, “oh god.”

You look over to the man laying next to you still blissfully unaware in a deep sleep, and you silently get out of bed to tiptoe down the corridor and sit down on the armchair. From your seated position you can see straight down into Eddie’s bedroom and he stirs a little, turning over and reaching out for you, but realising there’s nothing there. In a moment of panic you get up, slip on your boots and his leather jacket, then escape outside with no real plan of what you were going to do next.

“Shit,” you mutter to yourself as you turn to see his bedroom light turn on.

You didn’t want to tell him what had happened, you were still on the verge of tears as it was, and one look at his sleepy face would be sure to set you off again. This was meant to be casual, you weren’t meant to fall in love with the man, you were only meant to be physical, and it was as if your mind was taunting you with how you now felt about him by having this nightmare. The two of you had agreed from the beginning that it would be a no strings arrangement, a bit of company until a better proposition came along, filling his time until he finally graduated and allowing you some stress relief after work. You thought it would be easy, but it turns out that falling in love with Eddie Munson was the easiest thing to do in the world.

“(Y/N)?” he questions as you watch his silhouette walk through the kitchen to the front door.

You stare at his shadow through the small window, then as soon as you hear the squeak of the handle you bolt down the road as fast as your legs will take you. A short diversion through the middle of the trailer park takes you out of sight from Eddie’s and you carry on running until you get to Robin’s house.

“I’m fucked,” you pant when she finally answers the door, “absolutely fucked.”

“And 3am is the right time to tell me this?”

“I’m sorry, I… hold on,” you say, leaning on the door frame and catching your breath.

She helps you inside and pushes you down onto the sofa while she gets you a glass of water, then once your breathing returns to normal she sits there waiting for you to explain yourself.

“I’ve done the one thing I said I wouldn’t,” you begin quietly, “I’ve fallen for Eddie.”

“Oh… shit,” she gasps, “I mean, I can’t say I didn’t see it coming, but I thought you might have lasted a little longer than this.”

“Thanks!” you chuckle, “real supportive. What am I going to do? My stupid brain won’t even let me sleep next to him now without having some fucked up nightmare about him dying,” you explain as a sob emerges from your throat and tears begin to fall, “oh god, it was awful Robin.”

She awkwardly places her arms around your shoulders to comfort you, but your body shakes with sobs as you remember the look on his face in your dream; those beautiful eyes fading to nothing right in front of you.

“You do realise that you will need to give him back his jacket, right?” she points out as your crying quietens down.

“A very inconvenient detail that I did not think about when I legged it just now,” you sniff.

She laughs, “you did a runner on him?”

“Yes! I feel terrible, but if I’d seen his face I just would have broken down all over again.”

“Wow, that’s going to be one awkward reunion…”

“Thanks Robin, you’re a real voice of positivity.”

“You know I’m no good at this! Just tell him, what’s the worst that could happen?”

You look at her with a raised eyebrow, “says you…”

“Oh no, this is not about me, this is very much about you. Don’t try and turn this around just because you’re scared of admitting your feelings to someone who very obviously feels the same about you.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Listen, I may not know much about all this lovey dovey stuff, but the way he looks at you is like he’s just seen a new Metallica album.”

You laugh out loud at her comment, “I’m serious!” she insists, “ask anyone and they’ll tell you the same.”

“I might just do that,” you nod, “I’m sorry for waking you… I’d better get this jacket back to him.”

She narrows her eyes at you, “you’re going to dump it on his doorstep aren’t you?”

“Yep!”

Robin pushes her fist against your arm and shakes her head, “you can’t avoid him forever.”

“I can bide some time though,” you shrug, getting up from the sofa and downing the rest of the water, “thanks for the pep talk. I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”

“I might be late thanks to this late night intrusion,” she winks.

“That’s fine, I’ll open up, I owe you!”

You say your goodbyes then make your way slowly back to the trailer park to see the lights off in Eddie’s place, then slide the jacket down your arms and fold it neatly on the step for him to find in the morning. It’s not too long to your place, and when you get there you use the spare key under the mat to get in and head straight upstairs. The first thing you notice as you sit on the edge of your bed is one of Eddie’s skull printed bandanas on the floor and as you reach down to pick it up the events of how it got there replay in your mind.

“Just admit it (Y/N), you can’t resist this look,” Eddie grins, tying his hair back with the scarf.

You laugh as he flicks his newly formed ponytail from side to side with his hands on his hips, “take it off!” you chuckle.

“Take it off? Gladly,” he smirks, licking his lips as he steps towards you and lifts your top up and over your head.

“I meant the bandana,” you whisper, your bodies now pressed against one another.

He smiles as his arms wrap around your waist, then you reach up and gently tug the fabric from his hair as his lips land on yours, and it drops from your fingers as he pushes you back towards the bed.

You lay back against your pillows with a deep sigh, your fingers still clutched around that silly bandana, and eventually you drift off to sleep. The alarm wakes you mere hours later, and you groan as you get up bleary eyed and begin your day. Eddie had school so you shouldn’t have to face him until at least after work, but you still walk to Family Video on high alert just in case. Steve appears just as you’re opening up and he’s quick to notice just how shattered you look.

“Woah, late night with Munson was it?” he asks.

You give him a stern look, “no.”

“I’m kidding, it was Robin wasn’t it?”

You walk inside silently with him following, then you turn to face him with a sigh, “she rang you then?”

“It’s only because we care,” he explains, switching on the lights, “we want you to be happy, that’s all! Come on… oh! Is that Eddie?!”

You snap your head around to look outside with a gasp to see no one there, and you hear Steve laugh before you turn back to face him, “I’m sorry,” he chuckles, “I couldn’t resist.”

“You’re an ass, Harrington.”

“I’m a caring ass. Now, being the love guru I am I can tell you with one hundred percent certainty that Eddie Munson fancies the pants off you.”

“Oh really?” you ask sarcastically, “and how did you figure that one out?”

You fiddle with the returns box, purposely facing away from Steve so he can’t see your embarrassed face and you hear him sigh before he answers, “haven’t you seen the way he blushes when you touch? Or the way he plays with his hair when he talks to you? Or how about when I try talking to him and he’s so wrapped up in staring at you that he doesn’t even hear me?”

“Hmm,” you hum, stacking the videos up in your arms to put them back in their rightful places.

“Tell me about this dream you had,” he says softly, splitting your pile of tapes in two and taking the top half.

You well up just thinking about it, “it was horrible Steve,” you say, shaking your head as you walk off into an aisle, “he was suffering painfully, dying right in front of me and I couldn’t do a thing.”

“And that shook you up because you’ve fallen for him?”

“Uh huh.”

“Right, and why does that scare you so much?”

“Well… we agreed that it was only to be casual.”

“And…?” he presses, knowing there was more to it than that.

“And I… don’t wanna get hurt. So if I keep it to myself then there’s no chance of rejection.”

“Oh come on, you heard what I just said! He’s head over heels for you!” Steve scoffs.

“But what if you’re wrong?”

“But what if I’m not?” he turns away from you after his rebuttal and stops in his tracks as he looks at the door, “erm… Eddie’s here.”

“Yeah, you can’t fool me with that one again Harrington.”

“No, seriously, Eddie’s here.”

You rush to the end of your aisle to see him walking towards the door and drop all of the VHS tapes from your arms before bolting for the back door.

“(Y/N)!” Steve calls out, but you’ve already disappeared, “hey! Eddie!”

Steve walks over to the counter to put his pile down then looks over to the mess you made with a tut.

“What happened there?” Eddie asks.

“Uhh, piled them up too high, didn’t I? Anyway, what brings you here at this time?”

“Well, I was looking for (Y/N) actually. We… uh… she sorta disappeared on me during the night and… well, I just need to see her really,” he explains nervously, rubbing the back of his head.

“She’s out back man,” Steve admits, “go ahead.”

Eddie gives him a nod and heads on through to the staff only door then walks through to the dark back room where he finds you sitting at the small table you used on breaks with your head in your hands.

“(Y/N),” he sighs in relief, striding over to you and kneeling beside your chair so he can place a comforting hand on your back, “are you okay? What happened last night?”

You lift your face but look straight ahead instead of at Eddie, “I’m sorry, I just… didn’t feel well, and I didn’t want you to deal with sick or anything.”

“Oh sweetheart, I can handle some vomit!” he smiles, “hey… let me see that pretty face of yours.”

You reluctantly turn your head to face him, then your gaze falls to his deep brown eyes and you can’t help but feel a rush of sadness as that nightmare replays in your mind, making you gasp and cover your face.

“What is it?” he worries, thinking he’s done something wrong,” (Y/N), please, talk to me baby.”

He slides the other chair towards him and gets up to sit on it, then he wraps his arms around your body and pulls you to lean on him as he strokes your hair and plants soft kisses on top of your head between soothing words, “it’s okay,” he whispers, “take your time.”

“Shouldn’t you be at school?” you manage to mumble through tears.

“You’re more important right now,” he states, “I couldn’t concentrate knowing there was something wrong.”

“Eddie, this is going to sound really fucking stupid…” you warn him.

“It’s not stupid if it’s upsetting you this much.”

You take a deep inhale, the smell of his leather jacket and the smoke on his clothes filling your nostrils in the most comforting way, “I dreamt that you died… it was so violent and bloody, and I couldn’t get to you… then you turned to me and asked me to help, but I couldn’t move… and the blood… there was so much blood Eddie,” you sob, “… and the scariest part was waking up to realise that I haven’t kept my end of the deal,” you pull away from him so you can look him in the eye, “this casual sex thing just can’t work any more, because… I’ve fallen in love with you.”

You pause while Eddie stares at you in a mild shock, and you suddenly realise that this admission may have horrified him in the worst way possible.

“Forget I-”

“I love you too,” he blurts out, interrupting you.

“You what?”

“I love you too (Y/N),” he grins, “oh my god am I glad you said that,” he sighs, clutching his chest in relief as you smile weakly, “hey, don’t worry about that stupid dream though.”

He clasps your hands in his, but he can see that the dream meant more than just the distress it caused you, it ran deeper than that.

“Talk to me,” he says quietly, bringing one hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear gently.

“I’m not very good at… opening up, or letting people in.”

Eddie suddenly stands, pushing the chair over with his legs as he does so, then gets down on one knee in front of you and takes one of your hands to place over his heart, “I, Eddie Munson, promise to never, ever, break your heart. I swear on… my plectrum…” he uses his free hand to dip underneath the collar of his t-shirt and bring out the plectrum that always hung around his neck on a silver chain, “that I will always be here for you no matter what. In fact… wait there!”

He jumps up and roots around in the drawers of the desk that sat next to the dishevelled lockers and finds some scissors then he goes over to the box of old videos that were pretty much obsolete now and opens up the first one he finds before lifting the flap on the VHS and pulling out the reel of tape until it was an appropriate length and snipping it off. He waves his fingers in front of him and picks out a ring then threads it onto the reel and ties it off in a neat bow.

“This…” he starts, draping the makeshift necklace over your head and delicately arranging it on your neck, “…this means that you’ve got a piece of me with you at all times.”

You smile up at him and he cups your cheeks before leaning down and capturing your lips with his in a loving kiss.

“But wait, you need something of mine,” you point out, leaning away a little.

“Ah… well…” he picks the chair up and sits down in front of you then rolls his jacket sleeve up to reveal one of your scrunchies on his wrist, “kinda sorted that myself a few weeks back… sorry.”

You laugh, “I wondered where that went!”

“Suits me, doesn’t it?” he asks, twisting his hand left and right to show it off.

“It certainly does,” you grin proudly.