#well not constantly but very frequent when im in bed at night

[pikachu-deluxe]

i absolutely am an idiot sometimes huh

[joobi7]

BIKER!SUKUNA X NURSE!READER

tldr: sukuna is the leader of a feared bike gang that's known for being the strongest. but what happens when the strongest finally loses? sukuna is sent to the hospital in critical condition and you are his nurse...

tw: mentions of violence and blood

wc: 1.4k

A/N: see above image to understand what a "bunny apple slice" looks like. plz tell me yall know what im talking about or else ill feel very sad and goofy :(

ִֶָ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐ ִֶָ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐ ִֶָ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐ִֶָ⋅˚₊

Sukuna constantly finds himself in fights due to his blunt (and frankly asshole-y) attitude. He leads a motorcycle gang called the “Curses”. Truth be told Sukuna would’ve much rather the group be devoid of the cringey name, but Uraume already made matching motorcycle stickers for everyone.

Sukuna’s brash actions got himself into another fight. This wasn’t just any fight—he had picked a clash with a gang called the Arashi.

Earlier that week, they had been engaged in a shady deal that Sukuna had stumbled upon. His interference had been straightforward—he had dismantled their operation with little regard for the fallout. The Arashi, feeling publicly humiliated and threatened, had taken it personally.

Now, as Sukuna faced the Arashi members, it was clear this was different than a usual brawl. They had come ready for a real fight, bringing weapons and even a stolen car in an attempt to run Sukuna over. 

Despite his peak physique and fighting experience, Sukuna couldn’t withstand the impact of a car.

 By the time his gang members, Kenjaku and Uraume, arrived, the Arashi had already fled, leaving Sukuna badly injured at the bloody scene. They rushed him to the nearest hospital, worried about his condition.

Two days later, Sukuna awoke in a hospital bed, groggy and disoriented. The sterile smell of antiseptic and the beeping of medical equipment were overstimulating. His mind raced as he tried to piece together his predicament. It didn’t take long to realize the extent of his injuries. His spine was severely damaged due to the car crash, and he would need extensive physical therapy in order to recover. 

“Get me the fuck out of here” he spat, glaring at both you and the doctor. “I don’t need this place.”

“Sir, you need to stay put,” you say, clearly unaffected by his outburst. “Your injuries are severe. You could do lasting damage if you don’t follow the treatment plan.”

Sukuna’s gaze turned to you. You were a university student interning as a nurse at the local hospital. You had already witnessed several of his outbursts since he woke from his coma, and was tired of his attitude.

Although Sukuna remained quiet after your remark, you could feel his glare drilling into the back of your head as you left the room.

Five days passed with Sukuna refusing to participate in physical therapy. Uraume and Kenjaku visited frequently, trying to convince him to stay and cooperate, but he wouldn’t budge.

On the eighth day, you tried.

“You’re not leaving until you’re well enough. Your spine is damaged. Physical therapy is essential for a full recovery.”

Sukuna’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t need this hospital to fix me. I’m fine.”

Ignoring his hostility, you pressed on. “If you leave now, you’ll only prolong your recovery or make things worse. . We both know that you haven’t been able to regain all control over your left leg.”

Sukuna grits his teeth at the truth of your comment. The only reason why he hasn’t run away from the hospital in the middle of the night was because he physically couldn’t. He could barely make it halfway to the door before collapsing. 

Deep down, Sukuna knew that physical therapy was the logical choice that was in his best interest. But partaking in physical therapy meant admitting his vulnerability, it would be on display for everyone to see. The biker gang leader Sukuna was supposed to be invincible. He’s not supposed to lose. He can’t lose. What was he if he wasn’t the strongest?

“No person can beat a car going 40 mph at them,” you said softly. “Even the strongest.” 

“I don’t need your comfort,” Sukuna said, looking away. Still, you had said exactly what he needed to hear. “Fine, sign me up for physical therapy… I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try.” 

For the first time, he sees you break into a smile. You look as if you won the lottery or someone just told you Santa was real or both. “How odd”, he thinks, “how can you smile so easily just from hearing those words?”

The first physical therapy session was challenging. When you touched Sukuna’s left leg to guide him through an exercise, he instinctively pushed you away, causing you to fall.

Sukuna opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything you apologized. “Sorry I didn’t ask for your permission for physical contact. I apologize if that made you uncomfortable. Here, let's try another exercise and I’ll be sure to avoid contact.” 

Sukuna begrudgingly followed through, but he was confused. Why did he open his mouth to speak? What was he going to say? Was he going to apologize for pushing you? Did he feel sorry? Did he not mind your touch?

The days that followed were a mix of reluctant cooperation and gruff acknowledgment. You continued to work with him, and your patience provided a stark contrast to his abrasive demeanor.

He grumbled through physical therapy, the exercises painstaking and his pride wounded. But as days turned into weeks, he began to see the value in your persistence. Your care wasn’t just about the job; it was about his well-being. Even though he was too proud to admit it, Sukuna respected your dedication to even an asshole like him.

One evening, after another grueling therapy session, Sukuna caught you staying late, tending to his needs despite your shift ending hours ago.

“Why do you keep staying late?” he asked, curiously. “Don’t you have a life outside of this?”

You looked at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “Because someone has to make sure you don’t screw up your recovery.”

Sukuna’s gaze softened slightly. “You’re a pain, you know that?”

“And you’re not exactly a pleasure to be around,” you retorted playfully. 

One afternoon, an author visited the hospital to read a picture book about a bunny. As you walked Sukuna back from his physical therapy session, you noticed him eyeing a display of bunny plushies set up for the event. He thinks of how the bunny sort of looks like you.

Noticing his interest, you teased him. “Want one of those bunny plushies? I could get one for you.”

Sukuna turned his head, trying to keep his usual stern expression, but there was a faint blush creeping up to the tips of his ears. He takes a moment to collect himself before giving you a deadpan look, though it was clear he was trying hard not to smile. “No, I don’t need a stuffed bunny.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes internally. “Sure, whatever you say,” you retort. 

Later that day, as part of your routine, you brought Sukuna his usual apples for a snack. But today, you had taken a bit of extra time to cut ears into each apple slice so they look like rabbits. Although Sukuna’s pride wouldn’t allow him to keep a fluffy bunny plushie, hopefully he would accept the rabbit shaped apples.

You left the plate in his room while he napped. When Sukuna saw the apple bunnies, his face turned a deep share of red. “I thought I hid my interest in the rabbits well,” he muttered, abashedly.

His usual cool demeanor cracked, and he couldn’t hide his embarrassment. He stared at the apple bunnies, his eyes softening as he realized the effort you had put into them.

As Sukuna sat there on the hospital bed, munching on the apple bunnies, he couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of warmth and awkwardness. Sukuna found himself lost in thought as he munched on the apple slices shaped like little rabbits. He started imagining what it must have been like for you while you were preparing them. The cuts weren’t perfect—clearly an amateur’s attempt—but the effort you put into carving those bunny ears made Sukuna feel oddly touched.

He pictured you scrunching your nose in concentration, much like you did when guiding him through difficult physical therapy exercises. Or maybe you had a proud, toothy grin when you finished, similar to the one you wore when you beat him at whatever board game you guys were playing that day.

He looked at the remaining apple bunny slice on the plate and buried his blushing face in his hands. He just fell in love.

[stellarbit]

i have a kinda strange ask.

so i have severe insomnia. i've done sleep studies and meds but sometimes i just CANNOT sleep, even as bad as multiple days no sleep. doctors and i are still working on a fix. it's a fucking nightmare (except i can't have nightmares if im not asleep, can i???)

i'm a very calm, quiet, logical, and collected person except when i can't sleep. then i'm a crying and genuinely insane wreck.

i would absolutely LOVE if you could do some kind of Crosshair x female reader with some kind of scenario like this. it would make me feel better. Like maybe he didn't see her sleep the previous night and finds her still awake at like 3am the next night and this normally stoic girl is just an absolute unhinged psychotic mess and he has to fix it 🤷🏻‍♀️

idk how far ur willing to go (leaving it up to you) but just as a general idea as to how i (and many other people with this problem) get without sleep, i can get kinda violent, super snippy with people, can't stop crying, impulsive, physically sick sometimes, and don't always sound coherent or refuse to listen to people even if they're trying to help me. it's not a fun mental state to be in.

i'm never sleeping so i might as well read your literature (it's like a nightly ritual i love your stuff)

thank you 🙏

I know what it's like. Insomnia kicks my ass occasionally and it wrecks me and takes days of my life away before I can finally sleep. I hope you find some rest buddy <3 alsothankyouforthecomplimentjfc

give this a listen while you read

Just Lay With Me

Word Count: 1.5k Pairing: Crosshair x fem!reader SFW Warnings: insomnia kicking your ass all the way to next Sunday Summary: After a long bout of no sleep, you break and Crosshair is there to pick up the pieces. gif credit: @moonstrider9904

Sleep evaded you more and more often lately. Your new normal was turning into nights without more than an hour of dozing off. Nights that stretched into a week at a time with an occasional night of sleep, however restless. This time around the sleepless nights were quickly working their way to a month’s stretch.

After a few nights of frequently waking, two rotations went by without so much as a blink of sleep. At this point you weren’t just delirious, nausea turned your stomach and your head throbbed constantly. Every sound jarred you, pushing you to the brink of crying each time. 

Unable to string together more than a few coherent thoughts at a time, you’d planned on avoiding town the next. You were liable to snap at the smallest slight, but even in this state you knew it wasn’t fair to others.

By the time Crosshair came to find you, you were well beyond your limit.

Crosshair noticed your erratic behavior first. You’d snapped at Omega when she and Crosshair bumped into you on the street. Crosshair tried to stop you from walking off but you bit his head off too.

It was unlike you. Ordinarily, you were composed and rational—characteristics that had faded as your sleepless nights dragged on.

Your increasingly disheveled look became Crosshair’s next worry. You didn’t preen by any stretch of the imagination, but you took care of yourself and it always showed. Now, your skin took on a dull hue, your hair greasy and untamed, and dark circles gave your eyes a sunken appearance.

The night before he and Omega ran into you, Crosshair had noticed a light on in your home around 2 AM. Knowing you weren't typically up at that hour, he found it strange. The following evening, as he lay in bed, thoughts of your earlier encounter in town filled his mind. With a growing suspicion, he rose and stepped out to the patio. From there, he could see a dim light shining from your bedroom window.

He knew what insomnia looked like, had fought with it himself after being trapped on that Kaminoan platform, and didn’t want to push you if his suspicions were true. 

Then, the sound of glass shattering from your home shattered his hesitation. He leapt over the patio railing, his feet barely touching the ground as he dashed toward your house. Fortunately, your door was unlocked—an issue he noted to address later—and he entered your home in seconds.. 

He didn’t call out for you, instead choosing to quietly make his way through your space, tiptoeing through scattered blankets and clothes strewn over furniture. When he found you, you were on your kitchen floor, hunched over with your hands fisting your hair. 

Soft heaves shook your body as you rocked in place. Broken glass surrounded you, making the situation even more delicate.

Crosshair had been right, you hadn’t been sleeping.

Knowing there was no good way to break the silence, Crosshair softly called your name. Sure enough, you jumped hard and nearly slid onto a shard of glass.

Crosshair lurched forward to steady you by your upper arm only for you to rip out of his grip. You whipped your head around, hair falling in your face in a deranged look. It fit seeing as you certainly felt deranged. 

The sniper’s eyes were uncharacteristically soft, with brows slightly raised and shoulders relaxed. It felt like pity. Red hot shame flooded your system, sending you shuffling like a newborn fawn to your feet. 

In a harsh, hoarse voice you lashed out, “What are you doing here?”

Crosshair glanced at the mess around you.“Your lights were on and I heard something break.” You didn’t answer leaving only heavy silence between you. Crosshair sighed, looking back at you. “You’re not sleeping, are you?”

There wasn’t enough air for you to answer, your breath hitched into small gasps as tears warped your vision. Dipping your head back, you managed to blink back some of the wet from your eyes. With a determined shake of your head, you cleared your voice and firmly said, “I’m fine.” 

A line in the sand between you - a desperate claim to control something, anything.

His eyes on you, those sharp, all seeing, critical eyes, made your skin crawl. Not him specifically, but him seeing you as you were. This wasn’t how you wanted him to see you. Unable to stop the uncomfortable squirm that rolled through you, you waved both hands at him as if to ward him off.

“Please just leave.” Your voice was pleading, your eyes blinking furiously. 

“I’m not doing that.” Crosshair said gently. You weren’t sure if your tears, the lighting, or reality itself made Crosshair look so hazy.

Perhaps this was the next step into delirium. The thought widened your eyes with newfound fear. He’d appeared so suddenly - was he even real? Crosshair narrowed a worried look on you as a fresh, sickening feeling gripped you, spurring you back a step. Right onto a shard of glass.

You cried out, nearly collapsing, but Crosshair was quick to support you, preventing you from falling completely. The pain shooting through your foot crumbled your remaining resolve.

Crosshair swept an arm under your knees to scoop you into his arms. He hugged you close, even as you thrashed against him in fits of sobbing. He carried you to the bathroom and carefully set you on the edge of the tub.

Despite the sobs, you let Crosshair put your injured foot under the tap and rinse the blood still seeping from your wound. He felt the tremors wracking your body as he angled your foot towards him. Luckily the shard was sticking out enough that removing it would be easy enough under normal circumstances.

“I have to pull the shard out.” Crosshair said as inspected your foot. A choked sob pulled his eyes to your face again. Your lips wobbled in a devastated frown on your blotchy tear stained face.

Seeing you so fragile or haunted tore something in him knowing he could do little more than sit and watch you fall apart.

In an exhausted whisper, you confessed, “I’m so tired, Cross.”

“I know,” He whispered back and removed the shard in one swift pull.

Crosshair put your foot under the tepid water again, simultaneously pulling a towel from the rack beside him. As he dried your foot and applied pressure to the wound, he decided to share something.

“When the empire recovered me from the Kaminoan platform…” He paused on a deep breath. He hadn’t even told his brothers or Omega, but if he could do nothing else he hoped he could at least make you feel less alone.

Crosshair gently pulled you by your leg and pivoted you out of the tub. Braving vulnerability, he knelt in front of you and said, “I… I didn’t sleep for a long time. I don’t know how long, exactly, but long enough that I had to be sedated.” He smoothed a hand over your knee, adding, “I know what it’s like.”

You gave a small nod, focusing on regulating your breathing, too overwhelmed to speak. Sensing your need for comfort, Crosshair whispered, “Can I carry you to bed?” His tone was gentle, mindful not to startle you.

Your head fell forward in shame. Pressing a hand over your eyes you shook your head and mumbled, “It’s a mess.”

Crosshair couldn’t help the soft snort that came from him, drawing your head back up. A questioning, almost offended, look came over you. Crosshair didn’t ask for further permission as he came in close to you and lifted you with him. 

“You should see Tech’s room.” He teased, his breath warm on your cheek. “And he sleeps whenever he likes.”

The small joke did manage to lift your lips and you found some comfort in the cadence of his steps. He’d not yet gone this far for you. No one ever had. 

Crosshair crawled into bed with you still in his arms, pushing into your tousled duvet and placing you next to him. Leaning across you, he murmured an apology and froze before turning your light out.

Peering down past his arm at you, he swallowed before asking, “Do you mind if I stay with you?”

You didn’t think it was possible, but a small smile warbled over you. You hummed out an affirmative and rolled towards, rubbing your face into the soft fabric of his shirt. Crosshair chuckled under his breath and turned off the light.

He slid in next to you, sitting at an angle that his arms cradle around you. His made lazy trails over your back

“The kitchen-” you started.

“Tomorrow.” Crosshair cut you off. “For now, just lay with me.”

In the quiet hour, in your messy bed, in Crosshair’s arms you finally found rest.

[beamzar]

21st Nov 2023

Open entry: 19:35

I caught a virus from central London on Sunday, and havent recovered since. The illness has died down quite rapidly, but not quick enough. Chesty coughs, frequent sneezes and all that good stuff. Its pretty horrible, everyones getting sick.

Well anyway, my day has been boring. Woke up at 4am in a cold sweat. I pretty much stripped myself off of all clothing because i felt suffocated. I dont like the feel of thick clothes on me while i sleep, they make me all sweaty and gross. I then woke up again at 6am. This time by my mom who came in to check up on me. I had a slight fever which fixed up a few hours later. Per norm. I dont really remember what happened afterward. I kept falling in and out of sleep, quite uncomfortable. Ive made a mess of myself multiple times today, wether it was from a poor attempt at eating the pizza i had thrown in the oven, or a darn sneeze. I hate sneezing, mostly because they always cancel out or pop my ears.

I stayed in bed most the day, occasionally popping into the bathroom because of an uneasy feeling in my stomach. The bad part was that, it was dark, and damp. It wasnt a cozy sort of warm. Even though i had 2 thick blankets on me, my skin was still cold, and covered in sweat in some areas. I had been in bed for hours all tucked in so why was my skin still so cold??? Well anyway, i couldnt game or anything because my eyes burn, and im constantly dizzy. I did play a bit of Night In the Woods when i got bored of sleeping, but that didnt last long. The puzzles from the Lost Constellation minigame honestly made my headache worse. Plus, i cant read well.

I ate alright today, nothing too fancy but, still ate enough to survive. About to have dinner. Its meat. Kebab in my language, with fries. I dont really like kebab that much, and eating meat rn would mess me up, but im still starving.

Might watch some hannibal with my friends in a bit, were finally starting season 2. Im very exited. A bit irritated that i cant binge watch it but, that factor is redeemed by the company, and the laughs (or grossed out comments) we share. Fun stuff.

I feel like shit but, hopefully ill be able to go to school tomorrow. My psychology teacher hasnt answered my email, and our class tomorrow was cancelled, so i guess i wont be able to catch up.

Close entry: 19:50

Heres a song, it doesnt really relate to anything. Take it as a reccomendation or something

[can-i-make-image-descriptions]

[Image IDs: Tumblr tags. Image #1: #i literally had auditory hallucinations from age 5 to 15 #when i started getting mental health resources and put on an antipsychotic is when they stopped #it would cause me distress but i was brushed off so much

Image #2: #Yeah looking back I had my first panic attack when I was eight and it was brutal. Like asked the office to cal my parents brutal #and fuck man phobias are an anxiety disorder and fairly common in kids. I've had a severe limiting phobia since I was *two* #it just wasn't seen as important to anyone because it was such a rare phobia

Image #3: #I thought being as anxious as I was was a normal thing and everyone had panic attacks every night before bed

Image #4: #the Mental Illness set in when i was 10 (and my ass definitely had undiagnosed anxiety well before then) #but i didn't get diagnosed with anything until i was 17 or 18 and didn't get seriously treated until in my 20s

Image #5: my mom was mentally ill as a child #took her til 18 to get treatment #i was also a mentally ill child but my bipolar didnt show up properly til i was 13 #still young though and i wouldn't get diagnosed til 21 because no one would listen to me til i tried to cut off my finger in a manic ep #then they were like yah u have bipolar disorder type I rapid cycling. enjoy

Image #6: #yeah. my first attempt was at 7 years old. #somewhat comforting to know i wasnt alone

Image #7: #i was diagnosed with depression at 11-12 #the doctor said i'd clearly been suffering with it for a while at that point #my first panic attack was at around 6-7 #that's also roughly when i first started experiencing psychotic symptoms #turns out it's not normal for a child to think they're constantly being followed by invisible cameras or needing to inspect their food #in case of poisoning #keep an eye on your kids' mental health #Especially if mental illnesses run in your family

Image #8: #my depression was unironically at its worst point in my life when I was 11 years old #my mom said i was just being grumpy because we had moved recently

Image #9: this reminds me of developing schizophrenic at age 7 but not getting help for it until i was 15/16 and even then trying to get help for that #issue in particular was trying to pull teeth out with a cup of water #it was painful and i am still more than a little furious that it took almost a decade for my doctors to realize that i was sick #sorry for venting in the tags im just- we need to listen to kids more in general

Image #10: #also when you're an undiagnosed child people will chalk your behaviours up to personality #then when you continue to feel like shit into your teens and adulthood you and those around you may not realise (or believe you) #a new checkpoint for normality is set at such a young age #so something drastic has to happen to convince anyone that something is wrong #speaking from personal experience with my ed and c-ptsd

Image #11: #yep. have been anxious since i was very small and started having extremely frequent suicidal ideation at 10 #didn't get help for another 9 years after that #in part bc i learnt early that i was Not Allowed to have mental health problems. i was the baby. i was the Good One Without Problems. #so i learnt very well to internalize everything

Image #12: #i wonder what my life would be like if i got depression an anxiety treatment when they started #i think my depression started when i was around 9. i genuinely dont think there was a time i didnt have anxiety #like im not joking my first memories are anxiety #wouldve been great if they noticed the root cause (autism) but honestly if they just treated the anxiety itself #id probably be so much better. grieving the childhood i couldve had etc

Image #13: #i've spent most of my life suicidal with no improvement and nobody has ever taken me seriously #which i think has pretty effectively ruined my life

Image #14: #ya as someone whose earliest (that i remember) psychotic symptom was when i was 9? who still doent have a diagnosis at 21? #it's so annoying that no one.. listens. when a kid is mentally ill. #my friends thought i was just really creative at playing pretend which. was not helpful lol. for my mental health.

Image #15: #oh yeah i started showing symptoms of depression at age 10 and i was actively suicidal by the time i was like 11 #kids arent immune to mental illness you just want to Think that they are

Image #16: #yeah i had depression for quite literally as long as i can recall

Image #17: #yeah i.....i had anxiety since i was maybe 6 and used to have really bad panic attacks #probably had ptsd since i was 8 or 9

Image #18: #i should have been diagnosed with something at the age of five and i mean this without a shred of irony #hell even if you waited until i was nine! (when the symptoms became Much more apparent) #normal children do not have deep seated fears about the light being on in the hallway at night #nor do they write thinly veiled poems about suicide #and those two alone should have warranted some exploration by the adults in my life

Image #19: #yeah im lucky my parents got me help. However. They diagnosed me with depression. and gave me. epression medicine. When I was having anger #outburts. They took me out of it years later and very little changed

Image #20: #i started experiencing psychosis at the ripe old age of 8 #(well. that was wgen i had my first delusional episode. its likely i had experienced psychosis before then.)

Image #21: #some of my earliest memories were of trying to poison myself /End IDs]

There's this idea, fairly common in society, that mental illness is for teens and up. Children are happy little creatures, generally, right? Sometimes they're abused and the trauma can make them mentally ill, but that's not common.

There are two fundamental problems with this attitude. One, it's incorrect to assume that trauma is the only reason a young kid can be mentally ill. Two, trauma is more common than people think. I'll be covering the first problem in this post through the lens of my particular experience.

Where I live, you can be diagnosed with bipolar disorder at 18 years old. You cannot be diagnosed with bipolar disorder as a minor. This poses a problem because my age of onset was in first grade, roughly six years old. Because of the fact that I was very young and new to the world, this was also the age of my first suicide attempt. Thinking I wouldn't be able to pass a spelling test genuinely felt like something worth trying to die over. So, I ate some hemlock, since I'd read about Socrates being killed with it. Luckily, I ate western hemlock, an unrelated species, and just felt kind of sick.

I'm not recounting that for fun or pity. I'm recounting it because children with mental illness are in genuine danger because they have little to no experience with managing their emotions, have little to no concept of the idea that their life can change and improve, and are dismissed by adults. I told a teacher that the test made me want to die, though not that I'd attempted to, and it was brushed off as little kid hyperbole. If I had used a method that was effective rather than one I thought would be, I would have been dead at six years old.

I would not receive medication that worked even a bit for another two years. I would not receive treatment for bipolar disorder specifically for ten years, and that required my PCP fudging the reason for the medication because she was afraid I would die if she didn't, and diagnosis was still two years off at minimum. I received a formal diagnosis at age 19, thirteen years after onset.

But surely that's uncommon, right? This story is a huge edge case, right? I actually have no idea, because age of onset and age of diagnosis are massively conflated for most disabilities. Policies like the one in my area that restricted bipolar diagnoses by age can artificially raise the age of "onset", in my case by thirteen years. The general idea that children are somehow immune to mental illness can also delay diagnosis by several years, perpetuating the idea that young children can't be mentally ill. The data on when people start experiencing mental illness is inherently skewed upwards, and I frankly don't have a good estimate on how bad that skew is. If anyone does have that data, please chime in.

Listen to children. If they're saying they're sad all the time, that they don't care about anything, that they don't see a future for themselves, those are signs of depressive symptoms. If they say that tests make them feel sick, that they can't do anything because they're scared, that they can't breathe and freeze up, those are signs of anxious symptoms. Many children talk about imaginary things, and that's just fine, but slip in a question or two about them to make sure that the kid is just playing, and not experiencing psychosis.

Children are new to the world and vulnerable, and they don't know what's normal and what isn't. They need people who are more experienced watching out for problems they might be having, and listening when they talk about having problems. If you can, try to be the person who perceives them, and tells them that things can be better.

[gothhabiba]

hey, no worries if ur not up for answering this for any reason. but i wondered if you might talk a bit how ur in some way coping with being bedbound? i am currently struggling a lot and i can be out of my bed for a bit but im in a lot of pain and rly fatigued so not for long/not consistently. i also wondered specifically [idk if u experience this so obvs if u dont thats cool] about if u get pain ~from being bedbound? bc i do in some ways so it's like a constant catch 22 or whatever lol but i just thought id ask whether you have any tips/advice/things u do in order to combat that if u also have that experinece? hope this makes sense am fatigued a l o t !! sending u solidarity ! <3

I don't know exactly what your situation is, but I've had to come to terms over the last year or so with the prospect that I may be in this situation for the rest of my life. Treatments that usually work on people with my condition haven't helped me, and there's no cure. Life goes on. The lives of disabled people are often hidden from the public eye due to the inaccessibility of public spaces & narratives that centre the abled and the convalescent--but there's creativity in bed. There's still joy and social connexion and good books and good food and learning new things in bed (yeah yeah, ha ha). People frequently connect humanity, life being worth living, &c. to activity and to mobility, and it's useful to be able to articulate to yourself that that's bullshit

I try to differentiate between sleeping and waking hours as much as I can. If you have a couch or other piece of furniture that you can make it to and lie down on so that you're not in bed all the time, I'd recommend doing so. I also open the curtains during the day and close them at night, and switch out the pillowcase on my pillow (I only have one that's the right height so I'm using it all the time) just before I go to sleep. I sleep in a different position than I spend waking hours in. Things like that

I know this is easier said than done, but I try to keep a regular sleeping schedule. I find that things like fatigue, nightmares, insomnia, and sleep paralysis are worse if I don't. Any schedule you make should have enough hours of sleep nightly built in (don't try to say it will be eight, it very well may be 10-12) as well as any naps you may find yourself needing.

After spending a few months supine more or less constantly, I did start to notice some lower back pain and inflexibility in my spine that I hadn't experienced before. I try to spend a couple hours per day actually lying down on the floor rather on a soft surface, which mitigates a lot of this.

If it's a possibility for you, look up a few youtube videos for floor yoga and try to do a few of the stretches whenever you feel up for it. I rotate between boat pose, universal spinal twist, corpse, cobra, butterfly, child's pose, happy baby pose, bridge, sometimes cat/cow, anything else I can do without too much weightbearing. Which poses you feel comfortable doing will of course depend on the location of your pain and what worsens it. But especially when you're lying down all the time, it's important to do what you can to stretch your spine and shoulders and keep your core from weakening.

I'm not sure if you can sit up at all or prop yourself up on pillows--I cannot, so it really helped me to get a laptop stand, and a laptop that was built such that the keyboard is at the right spot under my hands with my shoulders and wrists relaxed. A separate keyboard that connects to your laptop via USB or whatever may be helpful if your laptop isn't the right size to allow for that.

Relatedly, it is always worth it try to rig something up to make tasks more comfortable. It doesn't matter if it "should" be easy (for whom? according to whom?). Prop things up at the right angles, rubberband or pin things into the right position (e.g. to keep the pages of books open while they're resting on a stand), &c. This makes a big difference, especially with things that you tend to spend a lot of time doing.

If there's anything that you used to love to do that you can't do anymore, find something else. I can't play an instrument anymore. I used to play viola, guitar, and ukulele, I had just started on mandolin, I had concrete goals on all these instruments, I wanted to learn piano. It sucks a lot. But I've started learning more music theory and music history, transcribing and analysing music, composing, ear training to be able to read music with my voice. Life goes on.

Talk to people! If you're comfortable with it, get visitors. It may seem difficult to meet people when you can't leave your bed or your home--when becoming disabled you learn that a lot of your old friends are no longer interested in being your friend if you can't keep up doing x y and z--but there are maybe people in your city who will come over if you explain your situation. I have a new friend who helps with housework and brings me food and is content to sit in my living room with me whom I met online... it IS possible

Otherwise, talk to anyone else you know. Voice call or video call. Join a discord or a subreddit for people in a similar situation as you, or a community for an unrelated interest you have. Disability of any kind (or rather, how people treat you when you're disabled) is isolating. It's worth trying to counteract that.

Start a project that you care about. Start two. Finish both or neither of them. It matters to keep doing and learning things that you care about, at whatever pace you can.

Some days are easier than others. You're not betraying yourself by feeling upset or discouraged. You're not betraying yourself by not being upset, either.

Orgasms can improve mood, relieve pain, take up time when you don’t have the energy to do much, &c. It’s worth looking into whatever kind of motorised sex toy would be useful for you if sex in general is something that you have interest in.

Understand that nothing about the concepts of "progress" or "convalescence" or "healing" or "stagnating" work for you anymore. Not even to the limited extent to which they work for the able-bodied. Even (and especially) medical fields still try to fit our bodies and minds into these frameworks that don't fit. There doesn't need to be directionality. There's just time, and enjoying it. (The disabled and chronically ill tend to understand this intuitively. Try to get more friends of this sort.)

Check out @energysavingselfcare

[misschifuyu]

i saw ypu koko & smiley as your boyfriend and I loved it :)

Can please ask some boyfriend hcs for ran,angry and rindou? Thank you

- im so glad you liked them bby !! here are some more hcs for the boys ♡

Ran, Angry and Rindou boyfriend headcanons

genre: fluff

warnings: none

Ran

oh, ran

right off the bat, everyone is going to know you're dating. and it won't be because he goes around showing off the fact

it will simply by the way he acts around you

firstly, he's a fan of pda and completely shameless about it. some members get into a pretty vicious fight? he'll swing his arm around you whilst he watches, unbothered. middle of a meeting? he will wrap his arms around your smaller form and rest his head on top of yours

izana will undoubtedly get tired of this guy's apparent need to be in constant contact with you. sure, couples could be cute together, but it's not frequent to see them share a loving hug after one of the two had just beaten a man to the ground

just seemed a little out of place, surely it could wait-

he loves you, though, and he isn't going to let some stereotypical image of a delinquent deprive him of time spent with you

another thing that will automatically lead someone to believe the two of you are partners is the way he will stand near you

of course, his regular stance is anything but inviting, but the way he will stare down - since this man is a literal giant - at anyone who even remotely posed a threat will be enough to make them change their mind about being near the two of you

he knew the life of a gang member was anything but a safe one. he was more than able to protect himself; what scared him was you.

ran, despite his tough act, has a constant fear of losing you because of the stupid situations both he and his brother get themselves into

it wasn't that he deemed you weak, it was more so that he knew how strong some of the men could be

the last thing he wanted to find was his s/o injured - or even worse - because of someone who was trying to get back at him

it was the reason as to why he will spend as much time as he could with you. of course, he understands personal space, but you would also have plenty of that whenever he got involved with any serious fights

he never let you go to those, of course

whenever you both have free time, he will make it up to you however you pleased. casual dates are his favourites, not having any specific plans, just simply going out or staying at home with you

more times than not, he will accidentally stay over for the night as he would fall asleep from the tiresome day on your lap. but you always have space for one more to sleep in, so it was never a problem

Angry (Souta)

the baby of the twins

you would meet his brother before him and it would take you quite a bit to get used to his...angry ways

he isn't an aggressive person, but the first impression you had gotten of him was certainly not one of showing extreme friendliness. but once you got to know him, it was quite obvious that you had found someone you liked spending time with

he's a very compassionate person. constantly looking out for others, he hadn't realised how much he appreciated receiving the same care from another. it's the reason as to why he adores your presence

unless one were to specifically ask if he had a partner, it isn't very obvious that the two of you are dating. you spent time together, but it was usually when you were alone, since the other members would be around otherwise

that wasn't a problem, far from it, but it would mean that he would be much more reserved with you. he loved your soft kisses on his cheeks, but he would only get flustered if you were to do so in front of anyone. souta's a shy baby.

so much so that his brother would sometimes ask how the two of you are doing, judging by the fact that the two of you acted like childhood friends whenever you hung out with him

you'd reassure him, though, that everything was going smoothly

souta would treat you with such kindness that, sometimes, you'd wonder if this was even the same guy you had come across on the day you met him

he'd never verbally ask for it, but the way he'd sit patiently on your bed whenever he came over, watching you do errands here and there, was an obvious invitation for you to cradle his face in your hands and give him a soft peck on his nose

he's a sucker for hugs, no doubt

sit him down in front of the television with a movie and blankets and he will be the most content angry ever

dates will be very similar, in all honesty. of course, he enjoyed going out to get ice cream every now and then, but he'd be cautious about bumping into another member and seeing him break his facade

no matter how many times you try and convince him, he won't drop the furrowed brows and intimidating expression when around others

but, you were happy enough with just seeing his softer side behind closed doors

Rindou

yet another baby of the family

this is a stubborn one. rindou isn't a fan of having a weak spot for anyone, and will be very wary when it comes to meeting new people

luckily, when he first encountered you, your demeanour had been anything but menacing or even intimidating. hell, you were more scared of him in that moment, knowing full well who the haitani brothers were

so, right from the start, he considered you someone with the possibility of gaining his trust. just maybe...especially with that face that he couldn't help but admit was nice to look at.

his brother was the one to actually set the two of you up, fed up the time his sibling was taking in just getting it over and done with

and so, you started dating rindou haitani

tagging along in anything related to tenjiku was off the board until he knew that nothing would happen to you. he still didn't fully trust the scums that were the other members, and considered it best for you to remain in safety

you knew his brother already, and that was more than enough when it came to the gang

this simply meant that, when a little message appeared on your phone screen saying 'are you free for the rest of the day', you were always overjoyed

granted, he'd usually turn up at your place absolutely exhausted on some occasions, especially if it was late at night. you didn't mind, though, it was a perfect excuse to pamper him after a long day

he wouldn't admit it, but whenever you did these little routines on him, fluffy headbands and slippers included, he quite enjoyed it. his heart would swell just a little at the way you would take care of him

other times he'd come over would simply consist in him being greeted with a warm hug, before being suggested to go somewhere to eat or have a snack together

he wasn't really worried about being seen around town with you, so he would usually agree to it. his favourite place to go were cafés, sitting down with you and enjoying a peaceful afternoon

as far as pda goes, it's pretty much inexistent with him

however, once he crashes at your place, he is open to anything: laying on top of him as you watched something together, cuddling on the couch, even spooning.

he's just very deprived when it comes to physical affection, so be sure to give him all the love whenever he comes over

[mikejimass]

waa new enstars writer hello hello ^__^ im lookin forward to reading what u write ! for now can i request makoto and arashi with an s/o who likes skincare n fashion ? thank yew n take care :D !

ೃ⁀➷ arashi and makoto with a s/o who likes both fashion and skin care! . .

an - ‘not too up to date on skincare . . so tried my best to make it to your likin��, hope ya love it!

arashi narukami -

well, look at you being all adorable for her. once she found out that you had a thing for fashion, she couldn’t wait to dress you and her up in some extravagant gowns as well as bold cloaks and tunics. as your knight, she’s sworn to protect her loving, doting majesty. you two have frequent visits to the shopping center together. . all just for you! narukami wants you all pretty for her. . she’ll be sure to shower you in sweet, sugarcoated words once you walk out of that fitting room.

narukami absolutely adores pampering you. . as long as you sing your praises of gratitude. . tell her that she’s the most beautifulest thing to walk this earth and she won’t leave you alone! narukami’s favorite thing to do is apply skincare products for you. . she’ll even do it alongside you. she’s a big believer in beauty rests and insist on you getting it! skincare can be confusing of course . . be she just, gets it? perhaps it just comes naturally to a woman who is drop dead gorgeous.

let’s say you had a hard day. . big sister arashi is already to the rescue with her spa day materials to make this day up to you. you and her will soak in the bath all day and night . . letting your pores open up, allowing the steam to carry all of your frustrations away.~ narukami, who’s booming with self-love—shoulders a big responsibility of reminding you how stunning you are to her. how she could stare at you all day and never run out of things to say—about how divine you are to her. just one look and she can hear a bell ring, that’s how in love she is with you.

as far as fashion goes, narukami always tells you about her plans on what she’s going to wear at yours and her’s wedding. she just can’t decide on whether to wear a big, beautiful, elegant dress. . or a professional, business wear pantsuit. this woman is so fashionable and she knows it! she would be more than happy to share that knowledge with you as well. you two most definitely bounce ideas off of each other on what to wear every morning. . it almost always causes you both to be late. . with arashi’s charm, you can get out of any tight situation. she’s overall a very wonderful and resourceful girlfriend.

makoto yuuki -

makoto is. . very clueless when it comes to the things you enjoy. . but that doesn’t stop him from being eager to help you with your daily skincare routine. as he watches you apply your products in the mirror, his eyes have a large gleam of admiration to them. he just things is so interesting how much you care for your skin! as an idol, makoto always asks for your help on taking care of his skin. . he needs to look his best for when he’s performing in front of hundreds and thousands of fans!

before going on, he always mopes to you of how nervous he is. . and that does his cute face look good still? . . you’ll need to prove it with a kiss! he’s as clever as he is smart. . he’ll always find a way for you to slide a kiss over to him. after, he’ll notice how soft and plush your lips felt against his own. . immediately growing flustered at how he let those words even leave his mouth. . he’d walk on stage completely flabbergasted on what he said, face crimson red from embarrassment.

as far as fashion goes, he’s always not very bright when it come to the topic. as a former child model, he still gets overwhelmingly anxious every time a camera is pointed at you two. . clinging onto you for dear life. all you have to do is just let him, hushing him of his worries, offering words of reassurance. he just melts at how good you are at what you do. he constantly reminds you of how he wouldn’t know where he’d be without you. he looks up to you a good amount, he knows how knowledgeable you are . . and how much fashion means to you, he just supports you from the sidelines like a good boyfriend would.

when you two are alone, things are different. he could watch you pose in front of the mirror, in front of him or on video, showing off how dashing you look in your outfit of choice today. he’s seated on your bed as you show off a bunch as if it’s a catwalk. . it’s just makoto. . but that’s still one person to impress! he loves how confident you look when doing so . . there’s this fire in your eyes that he can’t get enough of. his adoration for you just shoots to a higher level. makoto finds himself educating himself online about different clothing articles. . and magazines . . saying to himself ‘my s/o should be on that cover!’.

reblogs are always welcome, thank ya so much for requestin’! ♡

[ninacarstairss]

THOMAS HEADCANONS

THOMASTAIR WEEK — day 2, thomas appreciation day @youngreckless

thomas always loved to tape his friends. he captures all the moments he's sure he wants to remember and his phone is filled with videos and photos he snaps when they're all together. he loves to be in the moment and enjoy it as fully as possible, but he also wants to have the memories pinned firmly in his camera roll so that he can get lost in the feeling again in moments of loneliness or sadness.

he always seems very put together and organized on the outside but he can never make a coherent plan to follow and his room, his computer screen, the backpack he uses for uni are always a complete mess and he can never remember where the stuff he's looking for is.

no one has ever beaten him at monopoly. no one has either figured out his strategy, he's just unbeatable.

he’s watched every single cooking show out there. masterchef? binged every series twice. the great british bake off? could probably reenact it. all the gordon ramsay shows? knows them by heart. it's eugenia who got him into these competitions: she’s been dragging him out of bed to watch cooking shows with her at 3am for years and thomas hated it at first, but soon he got used to it and the adrenaline of the competition kept him on the edge of his seat. more than once gideon or sophie walked into the living room, hair a mess and a big frown on their faces, because thomas and genia were shouting at this or that contestant doing something stupid or unfair in the middle of the night.

despite this, thomas can't cook to save his life. both genia and barbara tried to teach him the basics to make sure he didn't starve when he was home alone, but somehow every dish turned out burned, overcooked, entirely raw or, well, on fire — to be fair, it only happened once, but neither his sisters nor his parents will ever let him live that down. the only thing he ever managed to learn how to cook was pisto, a spanish dish gideon had prepared multiple times and taught the girls how to make, and that thomas himself had tasted often during his year in spain.

the first time he tried cooking for alastair on a date they ended up ordering chinese after thomas had somehow managed to break two pans.

because genia made him watch so many cooking shows, he's always wanted one of those lavish, elaborated cakes with frosting and fondant decorations, so, on his twentieth birthday, alastair and thomas’s sisters team up to get him one of those: it's a giant cup of tea on a silver tray with teaspoon and saucer included and a side of fig rolls, thomas's favorite cookies, all in fondant and sponge cake. it's the best birthday thomas has ever had.

barbara adopted a stray cat years ago and named him sir fluffypaws meowton. when he was younger, thomas never gave him much attention but the cat always liked him better than anyone else and he constantly sneaked in his room. barbara was always a little bitter that her cat liked thomas more, but whenever she found thomas asleep on the couch and sir fluffypaws curled up in his laps she just smiled and let them happily sleep.

his starbucks order is always a caramel macchiato tall and a double chocolate cookie on rainy days and a iced matcha tea latte and blueberry muffin on the rare hot summer days.

he was class president in high school and to this day he still has no clue how he ended up there.

he was one of the most popular guys in school, together with the rest of the merry thieves, and he always found himself embarrassed when someone told him they had a crush on him or hoped to ask him out on a date when instead he only had eyes for the cute black haired boy with six rings per hand and the most beautiful dark eyes he'd ever seen.

after years of wondering he chose to study engineering in college but he never gave up on his love for languages and still finds time to teach himself.

he binged all the scandinavian shows on netflix and eventually started teaching himself the languages of his favorite ones so that he could rewatch them and truly understand them instead of just reading the subtitles.

gideon and sophie loved to travel a lot so thomas, genia and barbara were hauled all around the world for years when they were younger. as they grew up these travels became less frequent but the habit always stuck with thomas and he keeps on going around the world whenever he can.

lucie is the first person he comes out to and she is obviously more than supportive; she's enthusiastic and wants to know everything about this mysterious boy he likes.

next in line are genia and barbara that find out by chance when they enter his room without knocking and find him kissing alastair carstairs – thomas turns bright red and starts muttering nonsense until the girls grin and barbara says “i was wondering how long it would take you to stop giving alastair longing glances and ask him out”. alastair grins back at her and that's how thomas finds out alastair had a crush on him all along and his sisters both knew

the person he was less scared to come out to was gideon. he knew his father would love him no matter what and the day he told him and sophie he cried when they pulled him into a hug and spent an hour telling him how much they loved him and how happy they were he told them

Tag list: @cordaisya @im-not-ruined-im-ruination @surrounded-by-exquisite-clutter @stxr-thxif @icycoolslushie (let me know if you want to be added or removed!)

[padsnprongs]

wolfstar headcanons that ✨just make sense✨

french sirius and welsh remus

they would speak to each other in their different languages all the time, mostly just to mess with each other.

they’d also say really romantic things, but in their different language, so the other wouldn’t know

remus is like insanely tall, but always slouches, whereas sirius is literally a dwarf but stands up really tall (talk about that ✨aristocracy✨ you know)

when remus had his growth spurt in the summer of fifth year, sirius was, understandably, shocked

but also maybe a little annoyed

how was he supposed to kiss him now?

in the end he decided to just grab his tie and pull him down

which remus didn't particularly mind

remus keeps his hair short, because it gets in the way. sirius loves remus' hair, because of how curly it is - remus hates it for the same reason

'I look like an idiot, pads!'

'no, you look cute.'

after sirius started living with the potters', his hair grew long, finally free of the strict rules of grimmauld place

when remus saw his long hair for the first time, on the train platform, he fell in love with him a little more

sirius turns into padfoot on the days surrounding the full moon to comfort remus. he’s literally like a therapy dog at this point.

sirius’ bed hasn’t been slept in since fifth year

cuddles

so many cuddles

lots of pda, much to james’ disgust

‘ugh, you guys, get a room!’

‘prongsie stop being homophobic.’

‘im not- what am i even supposed to say to that??’

‘nothing, that’s the point.’

sirius has a tattoo of the full moon that changes with the moon phases and remus has a tattoo of the canis major constellation - while the rest are just inked on, the sirius star seems to be actually glowing.

remus always seems to lose his jumpers, even though they’re some of his most valued items of clothing. he will eventually find sirius wearing them, but he can’t even be mad because sirius just looks so adorable in them.

remus, in return, will steal sirius’ leather jacket, which sirius doesn’t particularly mind. james, however, gets especially mad whenever this happens

‘well how come he’s allowed to wear it and I’m not? I’m literally your brother!’

sirius rests his head on remus’ lap whilst remus reads to him, and remus will stroke his hand through sirius' hair

remus loves to french plait his hair, and sirius is adamant about leaving the plait in for as long as possible

‘sirius, it’s been three days, you need to wash your hair! I can always re-plait it!’

‘...fine. but only if you promise.’

remus is constantly freezing cold, which shows through the countless jumpers and scarves he will pile on, even in the height of summer

his feet alone are like blocks of ice, which sirius never misses an opportunity to complain about whenever they share a bed

sirius, on the other hand, is a human sauna, and will still be wearing shorts in the middle of winter

when they cuddle, their contrasting levels of body heat cancel each other out perfectly

basically, whenever remus gets too cold, or sirius gets too hot, you’ll undoubtedly find them clinging to each other

sirius always gets really worried after the full moon, and insists on looking after remus - he makes sure he has enough pillows, sneaks him food because the hospital wing food isn’t the nicest, makes him drink water, takes notes for him during the lessons he misses, and just generally stays by his side as long as he can, until madam pomfrey has to kick him out

sirius worries so much during and after the full moon that it often makes remus feel guilty, but he also finds it really sweet that sirius cares so much

he still tries to make sirius see sense and stop him from worrying, because he has really bad self esteem issues after the full moon and doesn’t think he deserves it. whenever he tries to tell sirius this, he says that sirius shouldn’t feel obligated to look after him, because he’s a monster.

every single time, sirius will take his hand, look into his eyes, and tell him firmly, ‘you are not a monster, moony.’

peter will then add that ‘you fold your socks, moony, we’re not exactly scared of you.’

and remus will wonder how he got so lucky as to have such amazing friends

whenever sirius is ill, remus will try his best to return the favour. sirius will insist that he doesn’t get ill, ‘don’t worry, remus, I’m fine’, even though he can barely move

but remus won’t listen, and turns into a proper mother hen, fussing over him and making sure he has everything he need, just trying to repay sirius for all he does during the full moons

illness = constant cuddles

but lbr there are constant cuddles regardless

they got together because they both kept confiding in james and lily about their unrequited feelings and how hopelessly in love they were, and james and lily got sick of it and decided to work together to set them up bc they were both so hopelessly oblivious.

that’s also how lily got to know james better, and see that he wasn’t as arrogant as she thought, and he actually cares deeply about his friends

but these are wolfstar headcanons not jily so moving on

they had a very touchy feely relationship even before they got together. they were always very close, and their bond was different than it was with james and peter

sirius loves to bake, whilst remus loves to cook, but if they try to do it the other way around, bad things happen

they would often sneak into the kitchens late at night and try to make something, fool around, mess up, and end up snogging surrounded by the mess of ingredients

late nights on the astronomy tower!! they did this even before they got together; when either of them couldn’t sleep, they would go up there and just sit together and look at the stars. their first date was a picnic up there, and it became their own special place where they both felt safe

nose kisses!! forehead kisses!! cheek kisses!! adorable

whenever they're messing about they'll almost always end up in each others arms, saying ‘I hate you’ whilst grinning bc they both know that they don’t mean it and it’s actually the exact opposite

when sirius can’t sleep, he’ll watch remus (in like. a non-creepy way) and count his freckles. once remus caught him in the act and thought it was the softest thing he’d ever seen

remus talks in his sleep. sometimes he just mutters random words that don’t make sense, and sometimes he can have full on conversations with sirius.

sirius thinks it’s the funniest thing ever and teases remus mercilessly about it in the mornings, even though remus has no memory of it and denies everything.

when they’re alone in the hospital wing after a full moon, sirius will hold remus’ hand and sing softly to comfort him and help him sleep.

remus absolutely adores sirius' voice, and tries to get him to sing more, and in front of other people, but sirius is adamant that the only reason he sings to remus is because it helps soothe him, and his voice isn’t all that great.

his lack of self confidence about his voice is due to his parents constantly yelling at him to stop singing, because they said it was annoying and he didn’t have a good voice, and he believed them, and still does. It’s one of his biggest insecurities.

the first time they said they loved each other was actually an accident. they had gotten all caught up in planning a prank and sirius smirked and said, ‘aren’t i just the most creative person you’ve ever met?’, with a dramatic flip of his hair

remus just chuckled and replied, ‘that’s why I love you.’

remus didn’t even realise he’d said it out loud until he saw sirius staring at him with a dropped jaw.

then remus panicked, but before he could get up and leave, sirius grinned and said it back.

and then they kissed, obviously

remus may be tough and sarcastic and sirius may be proud and overconfident but they’re both big softies really

remus cheers sirius on at every single quidditch practice, come rain or shine

he says he’s just supporting his boyfriend, but secretly he thinks Sirius looks really good in that quidditch jersey

remus loves it when sirius wears eyeliner. no reason. just looks cool.

literally everyone had a bet on when they would get together. minnie and dumbledore, james and pete, lily and marlene, james and lily, james and dorcas...

james likes betting

there are frequent updates on their relationship in the staff room, because all of the teachers just know they're meant to be

the teachers had a field day when they first got together

madam pomfrey, especially, always sees them together in the hospital wing, and by fourth year, is their no1 shipper

they both get frequent nightmares, and will always comfort each other and cuddle after because they feel safe in each other’s arms.

literally the least toxic relationship ever. they’re both incredibly honest with each other, always talk to each other about how they feel, but also have that perfect balance of banter

if not soulmates, why moon and stars??

[lockefanfic]

Business Trip: 780 Days

Parts One, Two, and Three of the Nayeon prequels.

---

Day 3: 

On your first date Im Nayeon reaches over and swipes the two pieces of delicious-looking salmon sashimi off the wooden tray of sushi the waiter had just placed in front of you.

“I love salmon,” she says.

Her theft complete, she takes two pieces of tamago sushi from her own tray and places them on yours. It was clearly meant to be some sort of payment or compensation for the grand theft sushi that had just been committed in front of your very eyes - a deal you were clearly on the losing end of.

You look up at her, still a little dumbfounded at her brashness during a first date, when most people were often overly concerned with being on their best manners and presenting the best version of themselves that they could. But here she was, swiping the two most delicious - and expensive - pieces of sushi from you, uncaring of your say in the matter.

You are about to open your mouth and start a tirade about how unjust and unfair this transaction was for you, when she gives you a smile - toothy and gummy, not a hint or remorse on her adorable features. 

The prominence of her two front teeth remind you a little bit of those of a rabbit. You smile back despite how surprised you were by her sushi theft.

This probably wasn’t going to last very long.

Day 7:

ImNayeon says: I had a good time last week :)

You say: So did I!

ImNayeon says: I owe you some salmon I guess. Free on Friday?

You sigh out loud as you receive her text. You didn’t have the best of first dates. You didn’t have much in common, she seemed a little more straightforward than you would’ve liked, and you weren’t sure you were over the entire sushi theft thing. 

She was cute, though, and that smile - that damn smile.

You didn’t know it at the time, but as you type your response a smile has crept onto your lips.

You say: Sure - pick you up at 7?

Day 20:

Your first time was awkward. 

You were both young and inexperienced, bumbling around each others’ bodies trying to recreate things you’d seen in porn or trying something that might have worked with a previous partner, not quite realizing just yet that every person’s body is different, and what worked for your prom date on prom night was by no means guaranteed to work for this young woman.

But what you lacked in experience you more than made up for with enthusiasm. It had been months since your last hookup, and from the second you’d entered her dorm room you were metaphorically and physically salivating at the opportunity to sleep with her. Nayeon seemed a little more hesitant, a little more nervous about where things were going, but she was still clearly as into it as you were, if the soft gasps and sighs that left her mouth as you explored her neck were any indication. Your hands, hungry to finally have the opportunity to explore her body for the first time, roam her small, tight frame, squeezing her cute little butt, caressing her back, pressing against her sides.

You both stumble onto the bed - quite literally, as you were both too focused on exploring each others’ mouths to realize how close it actually was. Nayeon falls onto it first, a cute little giggle leaving her mouth as she does so. You loom over her for a moment, enraptured by her smile, those cute bunny teeth of hers, those welcoming lips, her button nose, those perfect, expressive eyes rendered into adorable upside down arcs - her image took your breath away.

You find a smile appearing at the corner of your lips, the way it always seemed to whenever you spent time with this amazing young woman who had been at the center of your thoughts over the past couple of weeks. Sometimes it was something she said or did that made you smile - a funny joke, the way she reacted with half-serious anger when you teased her about her unusually large hands, the clumsy way she blew strands of hair away from her face while she studied. Sometimes she made you smile just by being her - when she was doing nothing in particular, managing to bring a smile to your lips even before you knew your lips were moving.

The sex that was to come was awkward, clumsy, far from being the best sex you’d ever had. But when it is over and you are both lying there with her head on your chest, you take a moment to look down and watch as she begins to doze off, her eyes slowly becoming too heavy for her to keep open, until finally she drifts off and begins to lightly snore.

You add that moment to the growing list of moments when Im Nayeon made you smile.

Day 21: 

“...and counting you, yeah, that’s the number.”

Nayeon takes a moment to respond, and you fear that you might have surprised her with how many girls you’d slept with. Should you have lied? What number was she expecting when she asked you? You tilt your head as best you could to try and get a look at her face as she rests her head in the crook of your neck. She is facing away from the nearby window and the mid-morning sunlight of the day after your first time together sheds little light on her expression.

“Is that… a lot for you?” you ask.

“No, no it’s not,” she replies, “Don’t worry, I’m not a prude or anything. People can sleep with as many people as they want. It’s just sex. This isn’t the 1800s.”

You find it a little difficult to gauge her reaction from her flat response.

“Some of them were just one night stands. Stupid drunken hookups at house parties. They didn’t mean anything-”

“What about me? Do I mean anything?” she asks suddenly. She tilts her head up at you, and you are relieved to see the cheesy smile on her face that told you she had meant the question mostly as a joke.

“Of course you do,” you reply, before giving her a quick kiss on the forehead, “I don’t usually buy my sexual partners dinner.”

Nayeon gives you a punch to the gut, and while she meant it to be playful it still caught you unprepared. 

“What about you?” you ask once sufficiently recovered. “What’s your number?”

Nayeon takes another moment to consider her answer, tapping her bottom lip with her index finger as though reviewing the entirety of her sexual history in her head. The length of time she takes to compose her answer makes you more than a little nervous, but you resolve to accept whatever number she gives you - she was right; it wasn’t the 1800s.

Nayeon’s finger leaves her mouth and she places it back onto your chest, where she begins to idly play with a random patch of skin.

“Counting you?” she asks, softly.

“Yeah.”

“One,” she answers.

Day 113:

Im Nayeon turned out to be a pretty good shot.

Of the ten targets set up at the carnival booth you were currently visiting, she downed eight with her BB gun - good enough for the surprised staff member to give her her choice of oversized stuffed animal.

“You’re a pretty damn good shot,” you say as you leave the booth, a large stuffed rabbit slung over your back. “If you’re some sort of international super spy you should probably tell me now.”

“Nope, not a spy,” she answers as she takes a bite from the large cloud of cotton candy she just bought from a nearby stand. She rips off a small piece and pops it into your mouth before hooking her arm in yours.

“Special Forces?”

“Nah, I don’t take orders very well.”

“Cop?”

“Fuck cops,” she says plainly, an edge in her voice. “No way in hell I’d ever want to be a cop.”

Day 283: 

It didn’t take long for sex to become a regular and frequent occurence with Nayeon.

It almost seemed like your first time together had flipped a switch inside the young woman, as though she were introduced to this new exciting thing that she had to have at every opportunity. 

You were both taking mid-level classes now and while the school workload and extracurricular commitments had ramped up, you both made sure to set time aside for each other. Nayeon was a caring, loving young woman and you were constantly in awe at the fact that you were lucky enough to be in a relationship with her. She was everything you had ever wanted in a girlfriend, and you did your best to make her feel as such. She rarely admitted it with words, but you could tell from the small things - the way she held your hand, the way she always bought you little trinkets and snacks and gifts, the way she looked longingly into your eyes every now and then - that she must have felt the same. 

It surprised you, then, that such a sweet and caring girl could be so aggressive and daring when it came to sex. You’d figured her to be the vanilla, simple type, especially after your first time together - but she quickly became open to experimenting with different positions and kinks. It was most often her that wanted to try new things in the bedroom - or the library, or the bathroom. Recently she’d taken a liking to two new kinks - light bondage, and sex in increasingly daring places on campus.

Nayeon hated the professor of the mid-level criminology class she was currently taking, and so she wanted to exact some measure of revenge on him by having sex on the lectern in the lecture hall a few hours before her class. It was a flimsy excuse, but you weren’t one to turn down such an opportunity.

She even dressed for the occasion - her blue plaid skirt and the tight white button up she wore gave her all the appearance of an innocent schoolgirl, even if the shirt was currently undone and the skirt bunched up around her waist. She even went through the trouble of wearing white knee socks and a blue tie to complete the schoolgirl ensemble, although the tie was currently serving rather admirably as a restraint for her wrists, bound behind her back.

You are almost worried that being pressed face down onto the lectern without her hands to support her was painful for her, but the tightness of her tight, slick pussy wrapped around your cock and her endless stream of only half-suppressed sighs and moans convinced you that there was nothing to be worried about. Your hands wander her helpless body as you take her roughly from behind, sometimes squeezing a cute ass cheek, sometimes pulling her body back by her shoulders as you slam forward with your hips, sometimes grasping a handful of chocolate hair, moistened with sweat, and pulling back, enjoying the gasp of pleasure and pain that leaves her throat with each tug of her hair.

Fucking her over the lecture hall lectern was a risky move, of course, given that absolutely anyone in the university community could have walked in and witnessed you pounding away at her - but Nayeon’s sexual appetite had become more and more ravenous in the past couple of months, and when she decided she wanted it, you were in no position to refuse her.

It had started simple enough, with some relatively vanilla sexual positions in her dorm room or yours. And then it turned into weekends where you did little more than eat, sleep and fuck. Then you began fucking on campus, starting in the library against the bookshelves, and then in washrooms between classes - culminating now in this afternoon’s escapade, your most brazen one yet.

You wonder, for a split second, what the punishment might be should a faculty member walk in and find you two going at it atop the lecture hall’s stage. But as Nayeon’s pussy tightens around you and her moans begin to reach a crescendo, you realize that you would have accepted any such punishment with a happy, satisfied smile on your face.

“I’m gonna fucking cum on your cock,” Nayeon states through gritted teeth, matter-of-factly, as though she were answering a question posed by her professor, and not being fucked atop his lectern. “You’re so… so fucking big inside me.”

The audacity of the situation she had put you in - the thrill of the possibility of being caught, her schoolgirl outfit, the tight, wet heat of her pussy and the level of arousal she was clearly experiencing - it was no surprise how turned on you both were. Your bodies made it obvious.

“And you’re so fucking tight, Nayeon. Are you… gonna think of us fucking on this lectern when you’re in class later?”

“Fuck yes!” Nayeon gasps, “Fuck, fuck yes, I want to picture you fucking me on this lectern while the professor gives his lecture, it’s gonna make me so wet, oh fuck, oh fuck… I want to sit in class with your cum in my pussy, fuck, you’re gonna make me cum!”

“Fucking cum for me, Nayeon,” you spit. 

“Oh fuck oh god I’m gonna fucking cum oh fuck I’m cumming!--”

You grit your teeth as she does just that, her body tightening and pulsating around you, her limbs shaking as she tries and fails to contain the pleasure radiating out from her core. You consider joining her, and your aching cock almost begs for release as it continues to pound the quivering young woman atop the lectern - but you do your best to hang on a little longer, seeking to savor every moment, relish every thrust into Nayeon’s tight, slick pussy.

And so when the door to the lecture hall opens, you almost don’t realize it.

Nayeon is thankfully more alert than you, and even through her post-orgasm haze she realizes the danger the opening of the door posed to the both of you. Before you realize what she is doing she pushes herself off you and off the lectern, ducking beneath it. On her knees, she quickly turns to face you and before you know it she takes your cock into her mouth.

You are left breathless, suddenly going from having your cock buried in your girlfriend’s pussy to having her under the lectern and having your cock buried in her mouth literally leaves you unable to move, much less process the fact that someone else has entered the lecture hall.

It is a few more seconds before you are cognizant enough to realize that the newcomer is dressed in grey overalls - a janitor. While he is far off at the top of the stairs that lead to the entrance of the large lecture hall, from his stooped posture you could tell he was likely an older gentleman. The fact that the lectern is a solid piece of wood, combined with the janitor’s age and eyesight, likely meant that there was little chance of him realizing Nayeon was there.

“Oh, sorry, professor, I didn’t know you were in here. Just cleaning up the garbage bins,” the janitor says as he shuffles towards the bins at either corner of the hall.

“Oh, no problem at all,” you answer, your voice wavering only slightly as Nayeon continues to take your stiff, aching cock in and out of her mouth, “I’m just… getting some notes ready.”

You make a show of shuffling some random papers and forms that were lying atop the lectern. You are too afraid to look down, knowing that the sight of Nayeon’s large, expressive eyes as she took your cock in and out between her lips, her arms still bound behind her, might be too much for you to handle.

“Nice weather we’re having, eh?” the janitor asks in a pleasant tone as he finally reaches one of the bins at the corner of the hall.

“Wonderful!” you snap, your voice cracking as you answer, “-wonderful. It’s pretty damn hot down there.”

“Down there?” the janitor asks, quizzically. 

“Out there. Sorry. I meant to say ‘out there.’”

“Ah,” he responds, before shuffling, painfully slowly, towards the other bin.

Beneath the lectern Nayeon redoubles her efforts, as though challenging you to cum before the janitor leaves the room. Her lips tighten around your cock, her tongue dancing in random patterns around and under your head, each swipe of it sending fierce shocks of pleasure shooting up your spine. Your grip tightens on the lectern’s edge as you seek some outlet for the pleasure.

You try to focus on the random notes that some previous professor had left on the lectern, trying to avoid looking down at Nayeon as she continues to suck deeply on your cock. At the top of the lecture hall the janitor has almost reached the second bin.

You notice some struggling going on beneath the lectern, and you glance down long enough to see that Nayeon has relieved herself of the tie wrapped around her wrists - you hadn’t deemed it necessary to double knot it, trusting in her lust and newfound desire to be bound up to keep her wrists tied. 

You watch, enraptured, as Nayeon takes you halfway into her mouth, her eyes locked on yours, lips tight around your shaft. Her hands now free, she quickly slips her already unbuttoned white shirt over her creamy shoulders before quickly reaching behind her and undoing her bra, letting it fall from her now topless frame. She lets your cock pop out of her mouth, jerking it slowly with her right hand as she straightens her torso and lets you have a glimpse of her naked chest, a thick stream of saliva dripping from her lips to fall down her chin and onto her small, round breasts.

As she continues to jerk you off with her right hand, eyes still fixed on yours, her left hand drops to her upper chest before capturing one of her own stiff nipples and pinching the hard bud between her index finger and thumb. You gasp audibly as you watch her touch herself. Knowing every ounce of your attention is fixated on her, she slips her hand between her legs and beneath the hem of her skirt. From the sudden pleasured expression on her face you know she has slipped her fingers inside herself.

Eyes glazed over with pleasure, she locks her gaze on yours and takes you into her mouth again.

Nothing else exists in your world. Never mind the janitor - every one of the two hundred seats in front of you could have been filled with students and nothing could have stopped you from watching, helplessly, as Nayeon brings you to orgasm. In reality it probably only took twenty seconds or so of her sucking your cock while she fingered herself - but in your mind it seemed to last forever.

A split second before you reach your peak you bury yourself as deeply inside her mouth, reaching down involuntarily with your right hand to grasp the back of her head and thrusting your cock as deep between her warm, wet lips as you could. Nayeon gags slightly as the head of your cock enters her throat, but she manages to control her gag reflex, and maintains it as your orgasm overtakes your senses and you send thick, hot semen down her throat. Time became abstract - seemed to slow down and then stop completely as you fill Nayeon’s mouth and throat with your cum.

“All done!” comes an announcement from some far away voice - and it takes you a few seconds before you realize it is the janitor, having finally reached and emptied the second garbage bin. “Sorry to bother you again, professor. Have a wonderful class.”

“Th… thanks,” you mumble as the janitor gives you a friendly wave, one you struggle to return with a weak wave of your own quivering arm. Your knees have similarly gone weak, and you are holding onto the lectern with both hands now, struggling to remain upright.

Beneath the lectern Nayeon tries to ensure that she swallows as much of your cum as possible, her throat working quickly to greedily swallow each rope of thick semen that you give her. Despite her best efforts she fails, some of the large volume of cum escaping from the corners of her lips to drip down her chin and onto her naked chest. When she has swallowed as much as she can she swirls her tongue around your hyper-sensitive cock a few times before finally releasing it from her lips. As her mouth leaves your cock it remains joined to her lips by a thick stream of semen, before the rope snaps and drips onto her naked upper chest.

“Fuck, I wanted it in my pussy,” she says as she begins to clean your slick cock with a thirsty tongue, “I guess you’ll have to fuck me here again tomorrow.” 

Day 365: 

“It’s leaking out of me.”

“Jesus, Nayeon, it was your idea. I thought you cleaned up before we left the bathroom.”

“I didn’t know there would be that much. I thought I drained you this morning,” she answers, squirming about in her seat. She straightens her dress as best she could, but there was no hiding the recent wrinkles that came with having said dress pulled up around her waist.

“Either way, it was hot as fuck,” you admit. Having sex in a university library or even in a lecture hall seemed woefully vanilla now that you could both add sex in a high-class, overly expensive restaurant’s bathroom to your list of achievements.

“Definitely,” she answers, a sly smile on her lips and a slight blush on her cute, puffy cheeks. It amazed you, sometimes, how she could switch so quickly between being adorable and sultry and beautiful. Sometimes she was all three, all at the same time.

“Anyway,” she continues, “I got a present for you. It’s our anniversary, if you didn’t notice.”

She bends to pick something out from her purse before sliding the rectangular velvet box across the table. You are a little surprised, suddenly worried that the new pair of running shoes you’d bought for her earlier in the day was now not enough. What the hell were you thinking getting a girl a pair of Nikes for your anniversary? In your defense, she loved to run, she loved Nikes and she had insisted that she make it easy for you by picking out a pair for you that she wanted... but you should’ve known better, should’ve gotten her a bracelet or a necklace or-

“Open it,” she says, softly, a small, sly smile on her otherwise unreadable features. She takes a small bite of her salad, but her eyes remain locked on yours, as though wanting to capture every split second of your reaction.

You are a little apprehensive when you reach for the box and open it, expecting a watch or bracelet or some other expensive piece of jewelry.

Inside is a circular strip of red leather - a choker or collar of some sort. Its buckle gleams in the restaurant’s low light.

“Um, thanks, Nayeon,” you answer, a little puzzled by the present, even if it was clearly of exceptional quality and looked quite expensive. “I don’t own a pet, though.”

“It’s not for animals,” Nayeon answers as she pushes around some of the lettuce on her plate. “It’s for a slave. It’s for me.”

Day 712:

“It’s not a sexy anniversary present this time, so don’t get your hopes up,” Nayeon says as you tear the neatly applied wrapping paper from the box. Sitting next to you on the couch of your apartment, she idly plays with the necklace you had just given her, her fingertips tracing the outline of the silver bunny rabbit at the end of the black leather string. Her lips curve upward in a soft, happy smile. You’d learned from last year and weren’t about to make the same mistake two years in a row.

“I’m sure it’s awesome no matter what it is,” you reply, truthfully. You finally open the box to find a blue hoodie inside it - simple in design, but you could tell by its fabric and its details that it was a high quality one.

“You’re always shivering in those ratty old sweaters and jackets of yours,” she notes. “I can’t have my boyfriend freezing his ass off all the time.”

You smile as you give the hoodie a closer look, admiring its stitching and the detail work. It was such a simple present, but it spoke of how much she thought of you.

“I love it. I’ll never take it off.”

Day 741:

Nayeon is playing idly with your knuckles atop the restaurant table as she describes an interesting case study in her criminology textbook - something about inter-jurisdictional police work, or something like that. Truth be told, you could barely piece together what she was going on about, other than the fact that it involved the rules and regulations put in place when law enforcement agencies and personnel from one country have to work in another.

She seemed engrossed in the topic - and while she was an intelligent young woman who seemed to breeze through all of her classes with flying colors, she had rarely shown this much actual personal interest in any of her other school work.

So while you weren’t quite following or understanding every detail she was relating about the complexities of international law and its relation to cross-jurisdictional law enforcement, you were content simply to watch her speak, gesturing expressively with her free hand while she kept her other atop yours, her thumb idly stroking the knuckle of your index finger. You smile and nod, content simply to watch her talk about something she was so deeply interested in.

The waiter arrives with your order - two wooden trays of assorted sushi. He gives you both a friendly smile as he places the food down on the table; you’d been to the restaurant almost weekly since your first date there more than two years ago. Despite the waiter’s friendly demeanor and the impending prospect of another delicious meal, you feel a ping of sadness in your heart as Nayeon lets go of your hand to make room for the newly arrived food.

Almost as soon as the waiter leaves, you pick up your two pieces of salmon and reach over to drop them onto Nayeon’s tray. In return she leaves you with her pieces of tamago, which you’d come to love over the past couple of years.

You look at each other and share a smile. She begins to dig into her food, but your gaze lingers on her for a moment more, your smile refusing to leave quite yet.

Day 751:

“Huh,” you say out loud as you read through the email.

“Mmm?” Nayeon asks as she pops the last french fry on her plate into her mouth. You are both sitting in the university student union building, having just shared a quick lunch between classes. Sitting next to you, she leans over to get a better look at the screen of your laptop.

“I applied to this job at this company called JYP last week, and they want to interview me.”

“Ooooh. I hear they’re gonna be big soon. Go for it.”

“Not sure if I’d even want the job if I were to get it, though,” you answer. “Their head office is all the way on the other side of the country and I’m not gonna move all that way for a job - even if it does sound a bit like a pretty cool company. And it’s for a pretty low level position.”

“You should still take the interview -  it might be good experience for the future, when you’re doing an interview for a job you’re more serious about. Worst case scenario you make a fool of yourself in front of people you’ll never see again. Best case scenario, you get a job offer from one of the best companies in the industry.”

“Yeah, I hear thousands of people apply for these new-grad positions and they only accept a handful. It’s a career-defining opportunity… but making people move to the other side of the country so they can start at the bottom making coffee for meetings is a big ask.”

“You’re a fresh grad - they’re not gonna give you your own team and have you travel the world making deals right off the bat. There’s no point in thinking about it, either way. Take the interview, and if you get an offer that’s great, if not, well, at least you got some experience out of it.”

“That’s true,” you admit. “Okay, let’s make deal. I’ll take this interview, you apply for that grad school program you’ve been thinking about.”

Nayeon groans - she was majoring in criminology and was thinking about pursuing a career in the field, but hadn’t quite decided on whether grad school was something she wanted to pursue given the amount of work that it would entail.

“Ugh - you know how I feel about that.”

“Nayeon, you love the field. You don’t stop telling me about these new cases you come across in your classes. Your grades are more than good enough. It would be awesome for your career.”

“I suppose. But we’ve been over this. I want to find a good job right after graduation. I have plans for post-school life. We have plans.”

You nod, knowing Nayeon was referring to the idea of the both of you moving in together after graduation. Things were getting pretty serious with her, and you were both looking forward to taking the next step. You’d caught her once or twice looking at listings for apartments around the city in neighborhoods you’d both liked. And more than once her gaze lingered for more than a few seconds at rings in jewelry stores as you passed by them on the street.

“I get that, but you can still work while you’re in grad school. And hey, if we live together, it won’t be so bad. Soon you’ll finish the program and get a job as an international crime fighter and I’ll sit at home being your trophy husband - which is my real dream job, let’s be honest.”

Nayeon giggles, snuggling closer to you on the cafeteria bench. Her cheeks blush pink, and it takes you a second to realize it was probably because you used the word ‘husband.’ While you knew you were both young and the idea of marriage seemed a little premature, you would’ve been lying if you’d said it hadn’t crossed your mind once or twice over the past couple of years. 

“Husband, huh? What makes you think I want to marry you?”

“Well, I’m your dream guy,” you answer as nonchalantly as you could, “of course you’d want to marry me. We’d live in a perfect little apartment downtown next to our favorite sushi restaurant and we’d have three dogs named Charmander, Bulbasaur, and Squirtle. You can go off chasing bad guys in foreign countries while I concentrate on being the very best - like no one ever was.”

“I suppose that does sound like a dream come true,” she says softly, her eyes suddenly thoughtful. She touches the silver rabbit on her necklace, her fingers tracing the well worn patterns on it.

“Right? So we’ve agreed, then. I’ll interview for JYP, you apply for that grad school program.”

“Gah, fine,” Nayeon submits, although you could tell her reaction was more than a little exaggerated. Her cheeks are still flushed, her eyes still wistful, as though she were processing the thousand little thoughts running through her head.

“Good. Let us drink to our agreement.”

You raise your half-empty can of coke, and Nayeon picks up her water bottle.

“To chasing our dreams,” she says, before you tap your drinks together.

Day 783:

It takes Nayeon most of the morning to get out of bed. 

When she finally drags herself to the washroom to look at herself in the mirror, she can barely recognize the mess she sees in its reflection.

Her eyes are red, dry, and itchy after having spent the night before crying herself to sleep. For a moment she thinks of grabbing her phone, of calling you and telling you that you could still be together, that you broke up prematurely, that you were meant to be - that you could maybe give a long distance relationship a try. It was a temptation that came up often in the past three days since your breakup. Every time it came up she fought it off, even if every time she did it cost her in tears and heartache.

She sighs. You were probably already starting your new life on the other side of the country. Far away from your university, far away from the sushi restaurant where she traded egg for salmon, far away from the apartment open houses that she’d hoped you would visit together - far away from the life she thought she’d be living with you.

She feels the tears start to well up again. 

But this time she tries her best to fight them off, wiping at them with a tissue before they have the chance to fall down her cheeks.

She needed something, anything to get her mind off of you. And while the prospect of crawling back into her bed and allowing sleep to dull her heartache was appealing to her, she knew it would solve nothing, wouldn’t do anything to help her recover. She was sad now, and she would be sad when she woke up.

The new textbooks for her graduate program in criminology, sitting in a pile on her desk, catch her attention.

Eyes still red and teary, she breaks the first one open and begins to read.

Day 2,013:

It takes Nayeon most of the morning to get the stench of the decomposing body out of her nostrils. 

“Jesus Christ,” her partner swears as they step out of the main elevator in the building where the murders took place, “I won’t be forgetting that any time soon.”

“Neither will I,” she agrees, taking long sniffs of air through her nostrils in a vain attempt to cleanse her sense of smell.

“What’s your call, boss?”

“Jealous wife stabs cheating husband to death in his sleep. There was a hunting rifle and ammo elsewhere in the house that she could have used if she just wanted him dead. They were filthy rich, so I doubt this was life insurance fraud or anything like that. This wasn’t about money. Use of the knife suggests it was personal. Passionate. Repeated stabs, too, not just one clean cut. She wanted to send that asshole a message as she killed him.”

“Their mistake was in getting married,” her partner states, unprompted. He fancied himself a bit of a playboy, although Nayeon knew his self-confident exterior and dismissal of long term relationships masked an internal irrational fear of commitment. She’d always been good at getting the measure of people, even before her job as a detective allowed her to turn it into a career.

“Whatever,” she says, dismissive. “Let’s pull the CCTV from the building, especially the ones from the underground garage. This was a crime committed in the heat of passion. Unplanned. I’m guessing she panicked, took their car and drove off. We should be able to pull a license plate - make sure you get it out and distributed in case she stayed local. They’ve got a ton of money so she’s probably out of the country by now, but we can at least track the car on airport CCTV and deduce what flight she hopped on. Pull their credit card info and start looking for flights. Once you have that I’ll start having a chat with my contacts in those countries.”

“Roger that, boss,” her partner says. “Another case Sherlocked by the great Im Nayeon,” he adds, before heading off to track down the building superintendent.

Nayeon smirks in his direction as she ducks under the yellow police tape that bars the entrance doors to the building, pushing past the gathering crowd of concerned apartment neighbors.

As she approaches her squad car to head back to the precinct, her phone vibrates in her jacket.

“Detective Im,” she answers.

“Im? Im Nayeon? I’m not sure if you remember me, but this is Park Jihyo of the Seoul Metropolitan Police. We met at that convention in Madrid last year.”

“Of course I remember you, Jihyo. How are you? What’s up?”

“I’m doing good, thanks. Listen, something’s come up here in Seoul that I was hoping you could help me with.”

Nayeon puts her phone on speaker, continuing her conversation with Jihyo as she pulls the squad car out of the garage and starts to head back to the precinct. 

After their call Nayeon reaches under her jacket to the black string of the necklace around her neck. Her fingers find and trace the outline of the silver rabbit hanging from it.

The chance to chase an old dream. It was time to see if it would come true.

--

Author’s Note: 

Too much fluff? :P

Yes, this was heavily inspired by 500 Days of Summer lol. I had thought of having the days in mixed order like in the movie but decided to keep it linear so as to not confuse people. 

Let me know what y’all think. :)

[illfoandillfie]

Pet Names, Double Dates and Other Fiascos

READ PLATONICALLY

Request:  SECOND ARO FIC OH MY GOD !!!! maybe them getting a lil dirty and ben really does a number on reader, so he takes her to mcdonalds or sumn and the waiter says something along the lines of “you’re such a cute couple!” and reader gets really uncomfortable with it maybe??? and ben being taking her home and cuddling her PLATONICALLY and he’s like “it’s ok we don’t need to let anyone else’s opinions affect us”

Pairing: Aromantic!Fem!Reader x Ben Hardy

Summary:  It's (nearly) all fun and games until someone assumes your relationship is romantic.

Warnings: Smut, kitchen sex, floor sex, oral sex (f receiving), a mild hint at choking, vaguely dom!Ben but not intentionally lmao, discussions of aromanticism and queerplatonic relationships, not as dialogue heavy as the first part though. 

Words: 7, 264

A/N: Happy Arospec Awareness Week!! Big thanks to the anon who sent in that request when I asked for ideas for future chapters. I put a little bit of a twist on your idea but it’s fundamentally the same. Also the last scene is one that I’ve been thinking about for literal months now and I finally managed to fit it into a fic! 

As always, if you’re curious about anything to do with aromanticism I am very happy to talk about it and answer questions! 

Taglist:  @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama​ @deakyclicks​ @jennyggggrrr​ @drowseoftaylor​ @hannafuckingsucks​ @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming​ @queenmylovely​ @ilovequeenmorethanyou​ @johndeaconshands​ @borhapbois​ @stardust-galaxies​ @cherries-n-rocknroll​ @scorpiogemini

The day had started off well. You woke with Ben tucked up under your arm, his legs curled up towards his chest since you’d stole the covers as you’d slept. Your face was pressed against the back of his neck and you felt him shift as you sighed sleepily and tried to keep from waking. Squeezing your eyes shut and pretending you hadn’t stirred must have worked because the next thing you knew was waking up to an empty bed and tinkly tapping sounds from somewhere else in the apartment. Groggily you shuffled out from the inviting comfort of the mattress, stretched, and pulled down the hem of the shirt you’d slept in to better cover your otherwise bare thighs before following the noises. You found Ben, still in his pyjamas (well, his boxer briefs) in the kitchen, dropping a couple of toasted waffles onto a plate, humming to himself.

“That for me?” you asked, stifling a yawn. “It can be,” he said, passing the plate to you with a quick kiss on your cheek, “There’s some cut up fruit and the maple syrup out on the coffee table and there’s coffee brewing over there,” “Thanks Benny,” “You’re welcome, Puddin’,” “Puddin’?” “I thought it was cute,” “Very cute.” You laughed as you reached for your coffee, unable to help but smile as you left the room. The first few months of your partnership had taken some adjusting and one thing Ben had decided he would do to make you both feel more at home with the dynamic was to come up with some non-romantic based terms of endearment for you. You’d vetoed things like baby and honey straight away, all of them a little too heavily skewed towards romance, or just reminders of past relationships you’d tried to force yourself into, for you to enjoy them. But, as Ben had said, he liked a good pet name, and he’d seemingly been determined to prove as much, constantly coming up with new things to call you. You, never really one for pet names anyway, mostly stuck with Benny or Benjamin if the situation called for something longer but you had a few other go-tos – things like Pet and Blondie as signs of affection, or Handsome and Tiger when you wanted to make him blush.

A few minutes later Ben joined you on the couch, placing his coffee down beside yours, almost spilling it as he watched the news story that was playing. “Remember we’ve got that double date with Jill and Martin this afternoon,” you said, the memory only just coming to you yourself. “Yeah, what time was that?” “Hang on, I’ll check the chat.” You scrolled through the messages on your phone with one hand while you ate with the other, “uhhh right, yeah, meeting at the bowling alley at 1.30.” “Bowling? Good, better than another shitty movie,” You laughed, “hey the last one they picked wasn’t too bad.” “Yeah I know, just not in the mood for it since I’ve been on set all week. I know if I went to the cinema now I’d just get distracted thinking about all the behind the scenes stuff which isn’t ideal for becoming invested in the story. Plus they’re always choosing romcoms, doesn’t that get annoying for you?” “Not really,” you shrugged, “I mean, do I sometimes wish they’d branch out? Sure. But I enjoy romance in fiction I just don’t need it in my real life. Don’t get me wrong though, very happy to do something different this time.” “How long d’you think we’ll be out?” You shrugged, “A few hours maybe?” “We should pop to the shop on the way back then. You need milk and we could get something nice for dinner.” “Sounds good. Does that mean you’re staying over again tonight?” “I was planning to, yeah. Barely saw you last week so I was hoping to spend all weekend with you to make up for it.” “Bet you regret agreeing to go out with them now,” “Kinda. S’pose it’s too late to cancel though,” “Nah you still could but you know they’ll get stroppy about it and we’ll have to go out with them next week. They don’t have any other couple friends since Neil and Percy split and Bianca took her fella overseas.” “Yeah, wasn’t seriously suggesting it.” “What would the plan have been if we did cancel?” Ben chewed a mouthful of fruit thoughtfully, “you, me, your bed. No need to be too quiet since Sophie’s still out,” he glanced at your roommate’s bedroom door, his eyes swinging back to you as he continued, “Or y’know, we could do a puzzle and listen to music all day, have a cat nap after lunch, whatever.” “You’re cute when you’re being all lazy,” “There would be nothing lazy about it thank you very much,” “Cat naps aren’t lazy?” “You know that’s not the part I was talking about,” “It wasn’t? Then what won’t be lazy,” you tried to hold back a giggle in the middle of your faux confusion but broke when Ben blew a raspberry at you in response.

Nothing more was said about cancelling as you finished your breakfast, though truthfully you probably wouldn’t have minded if Ben had cried off sick and rescheduled the double date. But you both decided that Sunday would be a day for just the two of you to make up for having to spend Saturday afternoon with others. Instead, you spoke of the week just passed and commented on the news still playing on the TV. When you were finished (Ben using the last corner of one of his waffles to swipe the remnant syrup from his plate) you stood and stacked the sticky dishes in your arms. Ben collected the coffee cups and a few other assorted dishes from the previous night, leading the way towards the kitchen and the dishwasher. He loaded his small collection onto the shelves before turning to grab the top plate from the pile you held. A noise of disgust rose from his throat as you held the plate out and he miscalculated the trajectory, his palm landing in a puddle of syrup and fruit juice. You were torn between laughing at his expression and taking the opportunity to toy with him a little but, always ready to tease him, your desire to see him blush won out. Trying not to smile too much, you reached forward and wrapped your hand around his wrist, pulling his palm closer so you could lick the sweet syrup from his skin. Predictably his cheeks turned pink and he pulled his lip between his teeth as you let him go with a laugh. “Bet you’re really wishing we didn’t have to go out now, huh Tiger?” Ben didn’t respond but he did react, his eyes locked on you as he swiped his fingers along the same plate and held them out in offering. Not quite sure where things were heading but very keen on finding out, you leaned forward and let your lips part slightly. He took the action for what it was, an invitation, and trailed his fingertips across your lower lip before slipping them between the two. He watched closely as you sucked his fingers deeper, using your tongue to lick up the sweet residue. There was still an element of novelty with this aspect of your partnership. Still part of you that was intensely aware that it was Ben’s fingers in your mouth. There wasn’t any hesitation though, hadn’t been since that first time when you’d both had to psych yourselves up to actually look at each other naked. But there was a part of your brain that was almost surprised when you found yourselves at the edge of a sexual situation. You suspected he was similarly discombobulated by how easy it was for you to end up there, how frequently playful teasing and friendly jokes turned into hands grasping at bed sheets and breathless moans against sweat-slick skin. He pulled his fingers free from your lips, unwilling or perhaps unable to shift his gaze away from the thin string of saliva that connected them like some kind of erotic spider web that you were both already caught in. You waited to see what he’d do next, feeling your heart race in the pregnant pause so full of potential. And then he moved. You laughed as he grabbed you around the waist and lifted you at the same moment he stepped towards the bench, your legs instinctively wrapping around him. He kissed you too, hungrily, as if it were impossible to resist. You’d looked down at him and suddenly been pulled towards each other, lips meeting with all the force and attraction of a magnetic field. Usually, he would have had a hand against the back of your head or your jaw but carrying you meant both his hands were already occupied so instead you substituted your own, tangling your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck to keep him from pulling away too far. As soon as you were safely positioned on the edge of the bench though his hands were free to fall elsewhere. One pressed against the small of your back as the other squeezed your thigh, encouraging you to keep your legs spread. Not that you could have closed them with Ben standing between them and not that the thought had even crossed your mind.

If you’d had all day Ben probably would have taken his time with you. Despite what he’d said earlier, you’d discovered Ben had a soft spot for slow and sensual intimacy. Making out that gradually built to passionate kiss-filled sex, foreplay that included soft caresses and whispered praise, anything that let him explore your body in intricate detail with his hands and lips. You’d been with guys like that before and had hated their insistence on linking hands and kissing you slowly. Those relationships never lasted long but with Ben it felt different, it felt good. Maybe it was because he knew you weren’t on board with overtly romantic acts and respected those boundaries you’d talked about so you never felt as if he were pushing you into a roll you didn’t enjoy. Or maybe he was just a better lover than they had been. Either way, it came to same result. You still preferred something less gentle and more energetic, though you felt you better understood the appeal of being held so close and kissed so tenderly. But with only a few hours before you’d have to start getting ready, Ben was inclined to speed things up a little. His hand quickly slipped up your thigh to press against your pussy, the cotton knickers you’d slept in the only thing keeping him from direct contact. You broke the kiss suddenly, the smacking sound loud in the small room, and dipped your head to press your lips to the notch between his clavicles. In response, Ben lifted his chin, exposing more of his throat to you and you took the chance to playfully nip at the junction where his neck and shoulder met. “Oi, no marks,” he said lwoly as you moved to kiss back up towards his jaw. “Afraid I’ll brand you with my initials?” “If you could legibly write your initials in hickeys I’d put up with whatever teasing the makeup ladies gave me,” “I’ll give it a crack then shall I?” Before you could so much as flick your tongue over his skin, Ben had raised a hand and placed it over your mouth to keep you from testing our your writing abilities, “Don’t think theres enough time, Sugar, but if you really want to I’ll let you try tonight, on my thigh where no one is likely to see it.” “Make it your arse and you’ve got a deal,” you said though it was a little muffled by his palm. “Fine,” he laughed, drawing his hand away, “But then I get to try it on you too,” You nodded, grinning, and then both fell into giggles, leaning against each other’s shoulders. This was what you’d hoped for when Ben had first approached you with the idea of being partners, what you’d been afraid you’d never actually find. Someone who would follow your tangential jokes even if it delayed sex. Someone you could be yourself with. You were distracted from the thought as Ben pressed his lips to your shoulder over the sleeve of your shirt. “Should I continue?” he asked, still smiling though softer, his fingertips lightly dancing over the crease of your thigh. “I’d be offended if you didn’t” “Can’t have that,” he leaned in to catch your lips once again, at the same time resuming stroking you over your panties so that you felt all the air leave your lungs in a rush. It felt good but you need more and so shifted your hips, trying to press yourself harder against his fingers. To get more leverage and better brace yourself as your centre of gravity changed, you dropped a hand behind you. Intuitively, Ben shifted the hand on your back higher and closer to your side to help keep you steady, the other still drawing lines along your clothed slit. You gasped as his thumb took up residence against your clit, rubbing it firmly so a visible damp patch began to form on your panties.

Ben grinned at you as your breath came harder and dragged his thumb back down away from your clit towards the leg of your underwear. Still watching your reactions, he twisted his fingers up under the material, gently tracing them along the same path they’d just followed only now he could feel your wetness directly. “I’ve got an idea,” he said, leaning close to your ear, as he circled your entrance with a fingertip before pressing it into you, “of how I’d like to fuck you right now. It might take a little flexibility on your part though. I mean, nothing too much, just getting your legs up on my shoulders.” Curious, and more than a little distracted by the addition of a second finger inside you, you nodded, “Sounds fun.” “Knew you’d say that. Just tell me if it’s too uncomfortable,” “Will do.” You leaned forward as Ben moved back a little, taking his fingers with him, giving you enough room to drop your hand to his crotch and grasp his stiff length through his undies, “Just get on with it.” “Puddin’ was too nice a nickname for you. Sugar too.” he gasped as you dragged your palm along his length and back again. “What’s the matter, Tiger?” “Maybe I should call you Tiger, if you’re going to keep grabbing my cock like that,” You laughed and let him go, leaning back on your palm again, “Tigress? Whatever, doesn’t matter. Are you going to fuck me or not?” “No I just wanted to get my dick hard for no reason,” he said sarcastically, poking his tongue out at you as he pushed his underwear down. “You’re such a –” you broke off with a sharp gasp as Ben tugged your underwear aside and pressed into you without warning, “dork.” Ben chucked and leaned in to kiss you quickly before readjusting your position a little by pulling you closer to him so your arse was right against the edge of the bench. Slowly he rolled his hips against you, pulling back and thrusting forward again, finding a rhythm that worked. You leaned back on both palms as Ben grabbed you by the waist, the other resting on your knee to keep it pressed against his side. “This feel alright?” he asked as he gave another thrust, hitting a spot deep inside you. “Mmhmm,” you nodded, able to feel yourself growing wetter with each stroke of his cock. “What about this?” Ben shifted first one of your legs and then the other to his shoulders, encouraging you to bend them at the knee. His hands moved to your sides, fingertips digging into your back as he pressed you even closer. The effect was that you felt as if you were almost folded in half but it wasn’t too uncomfortable. There was an almost weightless feeling to it and any slight awkwardness you felt with your chest meeting your thighs was a small price to pay for just how good Ben felt once again moving inside you. You tightened your fingers against the benchtop, wishing there was something you could grab onto as your whole body rocked with each of his thrusts, the position allowing him to penetrate you deeply, continuously brushing against a number of spots that sent electric spikes of pleasure through you. “Fuck,” was about all you could think to say. “That a good fuck?” Ben questioned, voice gruff with his exertions. “Yeah, yes, fuck, so good,” “So you like when I do this?” You let out a soft moan as he roughly fucked into you again, timing it just right. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he half laughed, turning his head to kiss your leg before leaning forward to catch your lips again. After that there wasn’t much room for talking. Ben, having assured himself that you were happy, speeded up his rhythm, clutching you tightly to keep your legs from slipping off his shoulders. His breathing became rougher, matching your own, as he drove into you, though he still kissed you as much as he could, panting against your lips, swallowing your moans and pushing whatever air he had into your lungs.

You could feel your orgasm bubbling up, like a pot of water on the verge of boiling, but knew Ben would reach his first, recognising his expression as the one he wore when he was trying to hold back from the edge. “Fu-ck you’re s-so tight,” he grunted, squeezing his eyes shut as he leaned his forehead against yours, “gonna have to pull out soon,” You could feel him pulling away and tightened your calves on either side of his neck in an effort to stop him, needing just a little more to reach your own release. “Not helping,” he groaned, suddenly unable to hold off any longer, “Shit. Y/N.” You whined as he stilled to shoot his release over your walls. “Jesus,” he said a little breathlessly, as he pulled out, your underwear slipping back over you, and rubbed his neck absentmindedly, “Didn’t expect that to finish me off. Did you…?” You shook your head, letting your leg slip to be caught in the crook of Ben’s arm. “Well let’s fix that, shall we,” he said, already letting you go to bend forward, his face right between your thighs. You felt a puff of his hot breath against you as he hooked his index finger into the crotch of your knickers, pulling it aside, and then his tongue was on you, lapping up your arousal and coming to rest against your clit. He set up camp there, focusing all his attention on the small nub. You let yourself drop back so you were holding yourself up on one elbow, your other hand on the back of Ben’s head, tugging on his hair as he drew a series of moans from you. With a particularly firm suck, you felt your cunt pulse and something warm and wet ran from you, dripping over the edge of the bench onto the cupboard door. You had an idea what it was so it surprised you when Ben released your clit to lick between your lips, catching it with his tongue and spreading it along your slit. “We taste good together,” he mumbled, going in to trace the same path over again, greedily licking up the mixture. You swore under your breath, feeling yourself right on the edge of your orgasm, unspeakably turned on by Ben lapping up the load he’d just left in you. Sensing how close you were he dragged his tongue over your clit again, quickly sliding two fingers into you to help you along. You whined his name as he pushed you over the edge, continuing to pump his fingers into you as he again sucked at your clit, not stopping until he was sure it had worked. “Thank you,” you said as he straightened up again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re such a dork,” he laughed as he kissed you again, tracing his tongue over yours. The man clearly wanted you lightheaded from lack of air. “Shut up,” you pushed yourself to sit up straight again, expecting Ben to step away and let you hop down from the bench. He didn’t though, instead absentmindedly toying with the leg of your underwear as his gaze fell to your lips. “Seriously?” Ben shrugged, “Eating you out made me hard again. And,” he quickly ran his fingers along the edge of the bench, collecting some of the mess you’d left there, “I think it’s only fair you should taste us too,” If he’s said it less earnestly you might have batted his hand away and laughed off the suggestion but something about his tone made you grab his wrist to pull his fingers towards your mouth. He hadn’t been wrong, the mix of you both did taste pretty good, though you’d already got a hint of it as he’d kissed you. “Good girl,” he breathed out, eyes heavy with lust, “think you’re up for more?” “Can we move elsewhere? The edge of the counter is digging into me.” “Okay,” Ben began tugging your underwear down and kicked off his own before pulling your shirt over your head, making you laugh. He Helped you stand and then immediately pushed you to the floor. For a moment you thought he was suggesting you give him a blowjob and were about to question him but half a second later he was following you down, laying down and pulling you on top. “I meant like the bed or the couch at least,” you said somewhere between incredulity and amusement. “Too far,” he grunted, bucking his hips to encourage you to mount him properly, “need you now.” You rolled your eyes as you sank down onto his dick, “Do I actually get to cum this time or…?” “Only if you move,” Ben growled as he grasped your hips and pulled you down onto him, making you cry out at the unexpectedly sudden sensation of being filled. He let you ride him for a bit, alternating between squeezing your thigh as he rubbed his thumb over your clit and cupping your breasts, teasing your nipples as he encouraged you to fuck yourself on his cock faster. You kept to the same steady pace though, intending to drag it out a little, make him wait. But it wasn’t long before he got fed up with the deliberately slow pace you’d cultivated. Without warning you found yourself on your back, Ben grasping your thighs as he kneeled over you, pulling your hips up a little so he could fuck you the way he wanted. Your voice shook as you moaned and writhed in his shadow, your own fingers dancing over your clit to keep building your orgasm. “Isn’t that better?” he said roughly, laughing a little as you nodded your agreement, “Making me wish I had cancelled our plans. Could stay in your pussy all day.” You whimpered and rubbed your clit harder. “C’mon Pumpkin, so close aren’t ya,” You squeezed your eyes shut, moaning when you finally tipped over the edge. But that didn’t stop Ben. He waited until your orgasm had subsided and then pushed your legs wide and up into the air so he could lay directly on top of you as he continued to pound you. Your voice shook as a moan was pulled from your throat and you squirmed beneath him, feeling yourself once again being drawn towards release. There was something about his weight pressing down on you, his breath against your ear. Something about how close he seemed, almost panting as his hips stuttered in and out of the rhythm he was desperately trying to hold on to. He mouthed at your neck as you tilted your head to accommodate him, reaching a hand down to squeeze his arse cheek. You were sore from every other way he’d fucked you, tired from the two orgasms he’d already wrung from you, and yet the thought of stopping him, of ending the incredible pleasure you felt at his hands, was the furthest thing from your mind. A scream caught in your throat as he seemed to press you even harder into the floor, your legs shaking in the air as he grit his teeth and grunted with each harsh drive into you. And then he came, gasping against your throat as he felt you cum too, finally releasing the scream you’d been holding onto until the noise turned to breaths so ragged they felt like sobs.

Ben kissed your throat and then your jaw as he came back to earth, still laying on you. “How was that?” he asked softly when you’d remained quiet for a while. You drew in a deep breath, “Pum-Pumpkin?” “What?” “You called me fucking Pumpkin of all things, while trying to get me off?” “So?” “Jesus Ben,” you half-heartedly swatted at his side, “you’re lucky I was so close that it didn’t matter otherwise I might have laughed and completely lost the orgasm.”   Ben joined in your laughter, the sensation of his shaking body on top of yours slightly odd but mostly quite comforting. Until he shifted his hips without thinking and made you wince. “Sorry,” he said, pressing his lips to yours again as if to kiss away the discomfort before he gingerly pulled out of you and sat back on his knees, “But you did cum that time, right?” “I think you know I did,” you sighed, already able to see what was coming, as you let your legs drop to the floor. “So wait, how many times exactly?” You sighed and shook your head slightly. “Because if my maths is right, I think we got you to three times. Once on the bench and twice on the floor. One plus two is three, yes?” “Yes that’s how basic addition works Ben,”  “And who was it again that got you to three orgasms? Was it,” he pointed a finger as his one chest, “Moi?” “Alright asshole, you’re very impressive and a somewhat decent shag,” “I think you could be a little more grateful considering that performance. Might have been my best ever moves,” You pushed Ben in the middle of the chest, exaggeratedly rolling your eyes but, truthfully you were inclined to agree that it had been his best performance yet, at least in your experience. “Here let me help you,” he chuckled as you tried to stand, almost falling over as your legs shook. Quickly, Ben pushed himself to his feet and then offered you a hand up too, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you steady. “Thanks,” “I hope I haven’t made it too hard for you to walk. Wouldn’t want to throw off your bowling cos you were fucked so right.” “Jesus Christ,” you couldn’t help but laugh.

The rest of the time you had before you had to leave was spent tidying up the kitchen, cleaning up the evidence of the mornings activities in case your roommate got home before you, washing up and getting ready to go. Which is really when things started to go downhill. If you’d realised you might have told yourself to stay home, come up with a quick excuse to get out of it and just played video games with Ben for the rest of the day or something. But there was no way to know what was coming so you didn’t. You talked happily as you got into Ben’s car (which was already parked on the street), excited to see your friends and looking forward to the afternoon.

The double date itself was quite fun, although draining. There was always an element of playing pretend at these sorts of occasions. Not that you minded so much. It was either play up the romance of your relationship or have to explain what you were to everyone and a few hours of pretending Ben was your boyfriend was honestly much simpler. At least bowling was better than the cinema. The first time you’d gone on a double date to a movie you’d sat down beside Ben, the popcorn you were sharing balanced on the arm rest between you. Martin and Jill had raised their armrest and were virtually sitting on top of each other, hands entwined. Which would have been fine except Martin had leaned over and said, “you know these things move” and looked expectantly at you. Ben and you had shared a glance and then tried to say you were both fine with the space but they’d given you matching looks that said they thought you were being weird or prudish or judging their willingness to cuddle in public. So you’d relented and shifted the armrest so you could spend the next two hours sitting with Ben’s arm around your shoulders, both of you more tense about the situation than you ever would have been if you’d just been allowed to sit in your seats like normal. Things had improved a bit since then. Ben had told you that one night when you’d gone out to a bar together, Martin had pulled him aside as asked why he never kissed you properly. Ben had shrugged and said he didn’t like PDAs, that he didn’t want photos to spread or anything like that, especially since it was still so new, and Martin had accepted it. They began to see that your ways of being affectionate were quieter, stealing sips from each other’s drinks, a warm hand against a knee, dumb nicknames that made you both laugh. Even if Jill did sometimes still try to convince you that there was nothing wrong with snogging in the middle of a busy street. Nonetheless you never felt fully able to relax when it was just the four of you. Always conscious of how they saw you, always worried that they’d decide you weren’t being affectionate enough and would tell everyone else you were going through a rough patch which would lead to more scrutiny. While at the same time worrying that one of them would start asking how serious it was between you and Ben, were you thinking about the future? Could you see yourselves moving in together? Was he the one? And it took a lot of energy to constantly be alert about what you were saying, always careful to not accidentally give away the secret truth of the situation. Bowling was fun though and less pressure than other double dates you’d been on. You could get away with not holding hands or sitting on Ben’s lap since everyone was standing up frequently and it didn’t make sense to be on top of one another. You could share small pecks on the lips or else tight hugs to celebrate strikes. And Ben made sure to tease you for missed pins, just like he always had, with a few added silly nicknames. He called you his sweet little hotdog after a particularly bad gutter shot which had made you laugh so hard you choked on your drink, and made Jill give him a disapproving glance. He’d smoothed it over by letting her overhear him saying he loved you, whispering the platonically just for you.

By the time Jill had been declared the winner of the game, you were ready to head home and spend a night forwarding Ben weird videos and dumb memes. Ready to be allowed to just exist without needing to be romantically linked to anyone. But it wasn’t quite to be. Martin made the suggestion that all of you should head to McDonalds for dinner and before you knew it you were standing in line, waiting for the kid at the cash register to serve you. You leaned your head on Ben’s shoulder as you stared at the menu, and vaguely wondered how someone working in a fast food joint could be so bright and bubbly. Right up until Ben nudged you and asked what you wanted. “Um, can I get a quarter pounder and a frozen coke, thanks.” “And?” Ben supplied. “And what?” “Y/N I know you want dessert, get dessert.” “And an Oreo McFlurry,” you smiled and bumped Ben’s shoulder with yours as he laughed and finished paying. “You guy’s make a cute couple,” the girl who’d served you said, eyes following the path of Ben’s gaze to you, still smiling. She seemed to realise what she’d said, her ears turning red, but Ben thanked her and added, “I think I have to agree,” as he squeezed your hip, before moving away so Jill and Martin could order. You’d smiled at her too but it wasn’t quite genuine.

It wasn’t that you weren’t used to it, people assuming you and Ben were in fact a couple. You were. One or two weeks after you’d first agreed to try out being queerplatonic partners, most of your friends had put two and two together and worked out that something was going on between you. Of course they didn’t know you were aromantic and they probably didn’t have any idea what a QPR was so they’d really added two and two and got five but you weren’t about to correct them. As you’d said to Ben, it was too much too soon to do that. Maybe if the QPR thing worked out long term, maybe then you could tell them. And besides, they weren’t exactly wrong anyway. They’d originally assumed you and Ben were just hooking up after Martin had dropped in to pick up something he’d left at Ben’s and had seen you spread out on Ben’s couch with sex hair and a rather large hickey on your neck and Ben’s sweater hanging off your shoulder. He’d asked Ben who’d just shrugged in response and said it wasn’t a big deal. You estimated it took about a minute and a half to reach everyone else. The next time you’d gone out as a group you’d felt them all watching you and Ben closely, trying to determine if Martin with bullshitting them all or not. They’d all decided it was just sex though. Until you were clearly still together a month later and they decided it had to be serious since Ben had never successfully fucked a girl for that long without catching feelings. That was when they started referring to you as boyfriend and girlfriend. That was also when the comments about how cute you were or how they’d always known you’d get together had first started. The first few times you’d heard it, it felt weird but you figured that was just because it was you and Ben and you were still working out how to be partners without the romance. You’d been in relationships before though and didn’t have any major objections to anything they said so you found it fairly easy to deal with and mostly you didn’t notice it anymore.

Except now it was bothering you. Something about the girl’s comment had rubbed you the wrong way. Which made you feel bad because she was just a kid with a shitty minimum wage job who didn’t know you from Adam. She had no idea. She was just trying to say something nice to a couple of strangers. You supposed your dislike of the comment probably had something to do with spending all afternoon putting on the romantic act for the benefit of your friends. Maybe even something about the sex from earlier. Probably just exhaustion from everything, a shorter fuse. It could even just be PMS though you’d have to check how far off your next period was to be sure. Whatever the reason it felt…not wrong exactly just off. You stayed quiet during most of the meal, aware you weren’t being great company and aware that Ben had realised something was wrong since he kept glancing at you when the other two weren’t looking. “Y/N,” Jill’s voice cut through your thoughts, “Still with us?” “Yeah,” you said, pulling a smile onto your face, “sorry, just a bit tired. Didn’t sleep well last night,” That statement was met by high pitched oohing noises and Martin jokily reprimanding Ben for keeping you up. You forced yourself to laugh with them, “Not like that you pervs. Ben was filming a night scene yesterday so didn’t actually get to mine until what,” you looked to Ben for confirmation, “One-thirty was it?” “Something like that. I don’t know I fell asleep almost as soon as I put my head down.” “Me, not so much,” you shrugged, “It’s all just catching up with me now.” They accepted that excuse without question and didn’t aim too many more comments in your direction, letting you finish your food without having to keep your mind on their conversation. And pretty soon you were hugging them goodbye and promising you’d organise the next date as Martin told Ben to get you home to bed before you fell asleep in your ice cream.

Ben waited until you were safely back inside your apartment before he asked if you were okay. “We were meant to get milk,” you sighed, trying to push away the annoyingly persistent discomfort. “I’ll go out later and get some. Or we can get Sophie to bring some back when she comes home. Are you okay though?” Unsure if this was a situation where you’d want space, Ben hovered at a respectful distance until you stepped in close and leaned your head against his chest. As soon as he knew you wanted him there he wrapped his arms tightly around you, “What’s wrong?” “Not sure. Think it all just got a bit much.” “How do you mean?” You shrugged as much as his embrace would allow and talked against his chest as you tried your best to explain how flat you felt, “I think the girl who served us was just like the straw that broke the camel’s back, y’know.” “Did me agreeing with her make things worse?” You shook your head, “Don’t think so. I knew you meant it in a different way to her. Besides, the other two were in earshot so there wasn’t much else you could say.” “You know that what everyone else thinks of us doesn’t change anything about what we have, right, or what we mean to each other. It doesn’t change who you are.” You didn’t mean to say it but the words had escaped before you could stop them, “Wouldn’t it be easier if it did though.” “But then you wouldn’t be you and I love you, platonically.” You smiled and nodded as you stepped back a little, though Ben’s arms wouldn’t let you go too far, “I know, thank you. And I’m fine, just having a bit of an off afternoon.” “Are you sure? Is there anything else I can do to help?” “No, you’ve been perfect.” You leaned up to give him a quick kiss, “And I know I’m being stupid about it. I knew what I was signing up for when I decided not to come out to them. Besides, being back home with you has definitely made me feel better already.” “Do you want a cuppa or anything?” “Nah, think I might just go lie down and read for bit. Decompress a little, y’know.” “Okay. Give me a shout if you want anything, yeah,” he pressed a kiss to your temple and give you an extra squeeze before he let you go.

Slowly you headed to your bedroom, kneeling down at your bookshelf and running your fingers along the spines until you found the one you wanted. That particular book had seen better days. It’s spine was cracked, the image on the cover peeling away from the cardboard underneath. More than one page had begun to fray around the edges like an ancient treasure map in a cartoon, with little triangles missing and the corners permanently creased where they’d been dog eared a hundred times. But as you settled into the bed, Ben’s pillow still smelling faintly of his hair pomade, you began to feel more yourself. Ben was right. What other people thought of your relationship didn’t matter. He was still your Ben, the same Ben who’s hoodie had been living in your cupboard for years now because he spent so much time at yours anyway it just made sense to keep a spare there. The same Ben who’d bought you your favourite pair of sunglasses when you’d left your old ones at home by accident. The same Ben who’d gradually been reading his way through your entire bookshelf rather than buying his own paperbacks. You had too much history there and too much love for each other for anyone else’s opinions to matter. And your partnership was good. It made you happy so it had to be good.

The time passed quickly as you read so when you looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps and saw that a couple of hours had passed, you were a little taken aback. Ben poked his head round the corner and then stepped through the doorway when he saw you looked better. “Nice to see you smiling again,” he said softly as he crawled up beside you. Without thinking you lifted your arm so he could snuggle against you, his head on your chest. “What’re you reading?” “First Test by Tamora Pierce. First book in her Protector of the Small series.” “What’s it about?” “A girl training to become a knight. Gran bought it for me as a kid while we were on a holiday at the seaside.” Ben glanced at the worn pages, “Do you reread it a lot?” “Yeah a bit. The main character, Kel, is like the only aromantic character I know of so she’s kinda important to me.” “The main character’s aro?” “I mean, not explicitly. It was published in ’99 and the terminology to describe aro experiences didn’t really start being used until like the late 2000s and even then only in certain communities online. But Tamora Pierce did answer some questions on her website and said that as she was writing the series Kel became less and less interested in romance and sex so even though she didn’t have the words for it back then, she would consider Kel aro and probably ace too. And I mean, rereading them I definitely feel an aro sort of reaction to a lot of the romance stuff, even when Kel does start kissing boys and all that.” Ben leaned back to better see your face, “Will you read to me?” You leaned down to kiss him, unhurriedly, softly, letting your lips linger on his. “Is that a yes?” “That was a sorry I’ve been weird this evening kiss actually.” “Don’t worry about it,” he said simply, snuggling back down, his head once again resting on your chest and his arm thrown over your waist. You adjusted your grip on the book and began to read from where you’d left off, one hand running absentmindedly through his hair, both of you sighing softly as you relaxed into each other.

[stevesharrlngtons]

pin prick and needle sticks.

roman godfrey x reader

summary: your solution for roman’s feeding problem is met with some resistance.

word count: 3.9k

a/n: ya im having so much fun writing again so hopefully there will be more! i hope you enjoy and if you do, pls give me some feedback (-: 

also this is a repost bc this wasn’t showing up in tags 

When you strode into Dr. Pryce’s office, he didn’t try to hide his surprise at your uncharacteristic appearance.

“Ms. (Y/L/N)! This is surely an unexpected visit.” Pryce pushed out of his desk chair to meet you in the middle of the large glass room.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” You say politely as Johann takes the coat that’s folded over your arm.

“No, not presently. I was just about to wrap up some paperwork and go to lunch.”

“Well, I won’t keep you long. I am hoping my question has a simple enough answer.” You say as you take a seat in one of the visitors chairs across from his desk.

“So, you are looking for my expertise on a matter?” Pryce asks, taking his own seat now.

“Yes, and maybe a small favor depending on your answer.” You smile, trying to seem as sweet as possible.

You knew Johann was asked for wild favors and cover ups where the Godfrey family was concerned constantly, almost on the daily. You wanted him to be receptive to your idea and not shoot you down before he heard your pitch.

Pryce was tolerant of your presence and occasionally even fond of your acquaintance when Roman needed him for something or another. You were very bright and amiable company.

He sighs deeply, already seeming resistant, “Is this a Roman related favor?”

“Yes, but not in the way you think. It’s more like a gift I need your help in giving.”

Johann looked extremely perplexed as he placed his laced fingers on his desktop, “Now I am very intrigued. Please, proceed,”

“You are aware that Roman has been having some trouble sourcing food. Right?” You try to say everything as delicately as possible, even though you knew Pryce knew about Roman’s situation in full. Probably even more than you knew.

“Yes, I am. Unfortunately Olivia forbids me to speak with him on the matter before she does, and she refuses to do so until Roman goes to her for help.”

“Withholding access to food, sounds like an award winning mother if you ask me.”

Johann chuckles, “Yes, Olivia is nothing but selfless.”

“Selfless and maternal.”

Pryce laughs again before he asks you what is the nature of your visit in relation to Roman and his upirism.

“Like all things in Roman’s life that are broken, I have found the solution to fix them. In this case, I have decided that I will take my blood and give it to him. As much as I can give, so he will never have to worry about where to feed again.” You said this with a self assured expression, elated that you had come up with a way to help your love.

The true extent of Roman’s feeding problem had become apparent one night while you were making love.

Roman sat on his knees, your legs around his waist while he pressed his hips deliciously into yours. He had set a gentle rhythm of thrusts, ones that were illicting your mewls and calls of his name from your lips. While you were reveling in your pleasure, Roman was trembling. Desire filming his eyes as they transfixed on your jugular. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the faint thrum in your neck, your voice becoming hazy and distant as his mouth watered at the sight of your craned neck below him. It wasn’t until you grabbed his cheeks that he snapped from his thirsty stupor.

Roman tumbled off your naked form to the floor of the bedroom unceremoniously, skirting away from you until his back reached the wall, the farthest wall from the bed. You had sat up, not bothering to cover yourself as you stared at your crumpled boyfriend, who shook and stammered under his breath.

“I can’t, OK? We can’t! Not until I feed again. I don’t think I can control it- I can’t control myself.”

“Baby, it’s going to be fine. I know you would never hurt me,” You push away the remains of crumpled sheets and begin toward him, but Roman flinches aggressively.

“I can’t help it, no matter how much I don’t want too, I will. I would kill you just for a taste and I would hate myself forever.”

You wanted to offer yourself up on a silver platter then and there. Ask him to drink from you because even if he doubted his control, you knew he would stop feeding before you were in any semblance of danger. You just wanted to make him feel better, in any way you could. But, as Roman wove his hands into his hair and tugged ruthlessly at the roots, it was clear that this wasn’t going to become an argument, or even a conversation. Roman left the bedroom soon after, muttering something about the refrigerator and leeches, while you watched him leave with an ache in your chest.

You had been trying to figure out the best possible solution to Roman’s problem since. After contemplating many different avenues, you concluded that you weren’t a bank robber (even if it was just a blood bank) and hiring someone from Craigslist seemed too risky (and too weird). So, you had fallen back on your original idea from that night: Roman would drink from you.

“To be clear, you want to extract your own blood and stockpile it for Roman?”

“Exactly. I just need to know how to do it and how much I can give per week without dying of iron deficiency or something.” You nonchalantly reply.

“This is very noble of you to do, (Y/N).”

You wave a dismissive hand at his compliment, “I just want to help him in the best way I can. It’s what you do for the people you love.”

Pryce stares at you for a moment, and begins to wonder how Roman attracted you in the first place? He was sure it was the young man’s killer good looks and the charm he held with the opposite sex that first caught your attention, but you were a smart girl. You wouldn’t fall for him simply because he was a blueprint for a Greek statue or threw a few saccharine words your way. He wondered if Roman was warm and adoring? Sweet and loving and soft when he was only in your company? From what Pryce had seen first hand, Roman was kind and gentle when you were around, but only ever to you. The second Roman laid his eyes back on Pryce or anyone else for that matter, he was back to an angry frothing terror to anyone in his path.

“When giving blood for say, The Red Cross, they take about a liter of your blood which is around 15 fluid ounce. You shouldn’t give more than that a mouth, but I could give you a few supplements that could help replenish your red blood cells at a slightly quicker rate so you would be able to give blood once a week.

“You would likely need to take breaks, possibly a month on and a month off? To make sure that giving blood this frequently wouldn’t take any serious toll, or have any significant side effects on the body.” Pryce explains.

“And these supplements won’t do anything weird to me if I take them?” You trusted Pryce, but only minutely. While you felt cordial with him, you still knew to be weary of his experiments.

“No, of course not. They are all over the counter supplements and vitamins that you can buy on your own accord. I would just tell you how, when and the quantity to take.”    

You sighed at his answer and laughed lightly, “So it’s all good? We could do it?”

“I don’t see why not. I could send a tech to your home to administer the IV, and possibly if this method of feeding works out for Roman long term, you could learn to insert it yourself.”

“Am I going to have like, crazy puncture marks? Am I gonna look like a junkie?” You asked, the vanity of this whole thing only now coming to your mind.

“Unfortunately, there will be noticeable marks and possible bruises from repeated insertions. I could work on something to heal your puncture marks, as I said, if this becomes a main source of Roman’s feeding.”

You nod, mulling over the information for a moment.

“When could we start?”

Telling Roman about the whole thing never even crossed your mind. To you, this was a gift that you were going to give to him, and you loved the element of surprise. It was strange, sure, but to you, this idea of yours felt totally romantic. Some women gave their boyfriends watches, or flat screen TV’s, or let them put in their ass on their birthdays; but for your boyfriend? The man who had every material object he desired and every sexual need quenched? Your blood was a perfect way to show him you cared.

You didn’t want Roman to get just one bag for the first time you presented him with the blood, so you waited four long weeks to create your mini arsenal for him. You just took to wearing long sleeves around the house and silk robes right before bed to hide the little marks on your arms. Roman, still not at his most observant from his lack of feedings, didn’t even bat an eye at your clothing choices.

After your final session with one of Pryce’s tech’s in your home, you felt giddy. You had been keeping the blood in the outside fridge until you had the stockpile you desired, knowing Roman never checked it’s contents. Tonight was the night you were finally going to give them to him.

After Pryce’s man left, you placed your newest bag in the refrigerator and went back inside to change into something far more alluring than the sweatpants you adorned currently. This was going to be a special night for your man and you wanted to pull out all the stops. You had already directed Conway and Anna to make a four course feast for the two of you before you would bring out Roman’s surprise.

After changing into the tightly fitted black dress you had picked out a few weeks ago, along with Roman’s favorite silk lingerie set, you went back downstairs to continue to set the scene for Roman when he returned from work. You scattered candles around the room and played an old jazz record to soothe any worry or anxiety from your boyfriend once he entered your shared home. You wanted everything to be perfect, he deserved it.

As you finished and Anna and Conway were wrapping up the meal, you heard someone placing a key in the front door. You turned to see Roman’s tall silhouette through the frosted glass and you couldn’t keep the smile off your lips.

When he walked through the door, he looked exhausted. His eyes were haloed in shadows and he was gaunt, his pale skin pasty and dull. He looked about ready to collapse.

Until he saw you.

“Welcome home.” You said, a wide grin on your features.

“What’s all this?” Roman asked as you met him by the door.

“I know how stressed you’ve been and I wanted to set up a nice evening for the two of us.” You replied as you pushed his coat off his shoulders and held out for Conway to take.

Roman glanced over your shoulder to see the extent of the fuss you had made for him and his shoulders visibly relaxed, “You’re amazing.”

You took both his hands and started to walk back toward the table, “That I am, and I have a little surprise for you after dinner.”

Roman tugs you to him suddenly, causing you to stumble a bit in your heels, but that only accomplished to bring you flush to him.

“Is my surprise under this sexy little get up of yours?” Roman’s eyes twinkle with lust as he moves his hands down to grip your ass.

You hum with delight, “I guess you have two surprises coming, then.”

You lean up to place a lingering kiss to his lips and Roman groans a curse as you step away from his hold.

“But for now, let’s eat and unwind. How was your day?” You ask, pulling out Roman’s chair for him.

“Better now.” He grinned, one that was without smare or ulterior motive. Just a pure smile radiating happiness.

After you chatted about your days and Roman having bitched about work to his heart’s content, you both finished the delicious dinner that was prepared for you. You had moved across the table to sit on his lap while you both shared a chocolate mousse, the gentle ping of the silver spoon against the serving glass lulling you both into calm relaxation and sloth as you ate the rich dessert.

Roman’s temple was pressed against your exposed cleavage, practically purring with the bliss he felt.

“Thank you for tonight, baby. I needed it.” He sighed, turning his head just enough to let you kiss his lips.

“Of course, my love.” You responded, stroking your hand through his hair, “I’d pluck the stars from the sky if it’d make you happy.”

“Hey,” Roman smiles, poking your side, “That’s my line.”

You giggle as Roman prodes you, “Well, while I’m taking your lines, let me take another. I got you something and I need to go and get it.”

“You know I don’t need anything.” Roman says, squeezing you once more before you got off his lap.

“This present is something you need, trust me.” You say over your shoulder as you exit the kitchen and enter the garage to get the gift box you had prepared.

Was this all very dramatic? Yes. Over the top? Of course.

But you loved pampering Roman, so you threw all cares to the wind.

As you entered the kitchen with the rectangular black gift box held together with a silk ribbon, Roman looked at you confused.

“Jeez, what is that? Is my mother’s head in there?” He asked as he watched you place the box on the dining table.

“I wish.” You chuckled, dusting your hands off on your dress as you looked into Roman’s puzzled expression, “Open it.”

Unable to even guess what could be in the box, Roman stood up and walked toward you and where it lay.

“It’s not gonna be anything that’s gonna pop out at me, right?”

“Oh my God, stop being such a bitch and open it already!” You laugh, nudging him with your shoulder as you quaked with excitement.

Roman finally pulled on the black ribbon and slowly untied it, causing the sides of the box to fall apart and reveal it’s contents.

“Surprise!” You said, jumping slightly in place, barely able to keep your excitement to yourself as Roman took in the gift.

He just looked at the blood blankly, all placed in a row before him. His mouth hung open, but he said nothing.

“How did you get this?”

“Well, that’s the extra special part. It’s mine,” You gestured to the blood, “It’s all from me.”

Roman looked up at you, and the appreciation you’d thought you’d see written all over his face wasn’t there. Instead his face was red with anger.

“How could you do this? How could you be so reckless!” Roman raged.

Your heart sank with embarrassment and grief.

“I thought you’d like it.”  

“Like it? Baby, why would I like you taking your blood to give to me? Do you know how dangerous this is? Do you!” You cowered under his voice, lip quivering.

“I thought you would be happy, I thought I was helping. Now you don’t have to worry about feeding or hurting anyone. I can just give blood every now and then and give it to you.” You responded, trying desperately to mend the evening.

“How did you even do this? How did you figure this out?” Roman picked up one of the bags and furiously tossed it back down.

You furrowed your brows and took a step toward your boyfriend, “OK, so don’t get mad- well, don’t get more mad I guess… but I asked Pryce-”

“You asked Pryce?” Roman shrieked, his eyes bulging from his head.

“Yes! But it wasn’t his idea, it was mine. The whole thing was my idea and all he did was help me and make sure I was safe.” You said quickly as Roman paced the length of the table in front of you.

“I’m going to kill him. I’m going to kill that stupid little prick and rip his cock off and shove it down his throat!” Roman bellowed.

“Ro, it’s not his fault,”

“It is! He let you do this! Indulged you! He fucking put a needle in your arm and touched you!” It was then that Roman finally zeroed in on the small circular band aid on the inner crook of your elbow and his face passed its red hue into bright crimson.

“Pryce never touched me! He had a lab tech help me.”

“Then I’m killing the tech, then Pryce, then everyone in that fucking nut house of a lab who knew this was happening and didn’t tell me!”

“Stop!” You shouted over Roman’s angry rant, “Enough! This wasn’t anyone’s fault but my own, apparently. I fucked up, I can see that now. But I honestly and truly thought you would love this. That you could be satiated from my blood and never worry about where the next source would come from. But hey? Guess I was wrong.”

Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you turned on your heel to leave.

“(Y/N),” Roman called after you but you stuck up your hand to silence him.

“No, I just want to go to sleep. I’ll see you in bed.” And you walked up the stairs to leave your boyfriend stewing in his own ire.

Stripped from your dress and lingerie, you lay under the thick covers of the bed and mindlessly watch some old re-run of a sitcom. It had been well over an hour since you had left Roman in the kitchen and each second he stayed away was another second of heartbreak and humiliation. You still weren’t sure why Roman had blown up the way he did… sure it was risky, but nothing that you couldn’t handle. You were a grown fucking woman who knew her own limits. You had picked up the supplements Pryce had prescribed you and you had been feeling perfectly fine. If you ever started to feel any effects, you knew you would head straight to Pryce or your primary doctor.

As another commercial break washed over the screen, Roman opened the door to the bedroom and peeked his head inside.

“You OK?”

“No.”

Roman sighed as he came fully into the room and shut the door behind himself, leaning against it.

“Listen, I’m sorry about the scene down there…”

“I’m sorry, too. I should have asked you first if you would have been OK with me doing this for you.” You slumped your shoulder into the mattress.

Roman just watched you.

“I just… Roman, I really thought you would like it! I thought you might even be grateful. I really meant what I said downstairs, I would give you a star if that would make you happy, I really would. And I thought helping solve your feeding problem would make you happy, and it didn’t, so I’m sorry.”

Still Roman stayed silent, just studying you, wrapped in a coil of thick blankets. He soon walked toward the bed and sat on the corner, his back facing you. He hunched over and placed his head in his hands, gently shook it side to side.

“I was never really even that mad at you, baby. Just at Pryce, I guess. And scared…”

“Scared about what?”

“Seriously? You’re going to ask that?” Roman glowered.

You kicked your foot out to the edge he was sitting on to jostle him, “Don’t be an asshole.”

He grumbled something under his breath that you sure was unkind before he continued.

“I was obviously fucking scared because this could go wrong, alright? You could get sick or stop clotting or something! I don’t know. I don’t have to be rational when it comes to your safety and health.”

You rolled your eyes at that comment, “I thought I was being rational coming up with this idea, Roman. In my head, this would solve everything. No more leeches or starving or worrying that you’ll kill someone when it gets too much!”

Roman looked back at you, his eyes intense as your cheeks heated with your outburst.

“I just-! Fuck,” He turned back around, bouncing his knee, “I don’t want you to do this for me and something bad happening. That’s it, that’s all.”

You frown and whisper his name, just loud enough for him to hear.

“And because you went to Pryce and not me… and that no one at my own fucking company told me about this. Fucking traitors.”

You shuffled your way out from the blankets and crawled your way toward Roman, placing a gentle hand to his shoulder to gage his reaction before you moved to hug him.

“I’m not going to get hurt, I promise. Pryce told me where to buy some vitamins to keep me healthy and they have been working. I won’t continue if I start to feel sick. And if by some chance I do, you will be the first person I tell.”

Roman says nothing at first, but you knew he heard you. You placed a few simple kisses to his shoulder and wound your arms tighter around his waist, snuggling to him.

“I want to know the second you start to feel anything less than fantastic, OK? If you feel faint or nauseous or even if you have a fucking headache, alright? I’m not fucking around here.” He replied firmly.

A smile spread across your face and you pressed it to his skin, “Of course, baby. No more secrets ever again.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Roman trailed off with a sigh, but leaning into your touch.

“You know,” You started, moving around his neck to see his face, “I thought the idea of you drinking my blood was very romantic. Maybe even erotic.”

Roman moved to give you a quizzical look and you only grinned wider.

“Something about giving myself to you fully, running through your veins, letting you have all of me, you don’t think that’s romantic?”

Roman’s lips began to pull into his signature smirk, “I think I was little more taken by your erotic comment.”

You giggled and playfully bit his shoulder, “I don’t know, I think about watching you drink it… about you covered in it and knowing it’s from me,”

Roman was quick to grab you and manhandle you around him and into his lap.

“Yeah?” He asked, smirk persistent as his hands explored your body.

“Yeah… knowing you drink my blood, my cum, that you’re the only one who knows my taste… it got me all hot, baby.”

Roman groaned deep in his chest as he dug his fingers into your hips, twitching his hips up against you and making your eyes flutter.

“My baby, my girl,” He hummed, leaning forward to ghost his lips over your own, “You drive me absolutely wild.”

“All better now?”

Roman just chuckles, grinding you down onto him.

“And you’ll drink the blood?”

“Yeah, fine,” And he finally kisses you.

You knew that he was playing it off now like it was nothing, but the honesty you had shown him, and the utter devotion you had just pledged, meant something to him. It meant everything to him.

i really hope you enjoyed!!!! if you do, i’d love to hear your thoughts (:

[maggotmouth]

          hillo sexthy legends !!   i’m nora and i’ll be writing margo colby n probs sm1 else bcos lets be real, i lack self-control. u can find her pinterest here n some info abt her sexy self below the cut. plot with me on discord ( hot girl midsommar#8664 ) or in my ims !!  x o x

     * CAMILA MORRONE, CIS WOMAN + SHE / HER  | you know MARGO COLBY, right? they’re TWENTY-THREE, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, ELEVEN YEARS? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to SCRAWNY BY WALLOWS  like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole BLEACH WHITE SNEAKERS POUNDING ON A GYMNASIUM FLOOR, USING THE SAME BLUNT SCISSORS TO HACK THE SLEEVES OFF AN EXES T-SHIRT THAT YOU USE TO CUT YOUR 3AM FRINGE, A WALNUT-SHAPED ACHE IN THE PIT OF YOUR STOMACH FOR THE PERSON YOU COULD HAVE BEEN thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is AUGUST 8TH, so they’re a LEO, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( nora, 25, gmt, she/her )

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bullet point summary of margo.

—   born margaret but NOBODY calls her that. its colby, coach or margo, and go to the privileged few. margo grew up in the creek commune n then dropped out of school cos of a teenage pregnancy so she was a bit of a cautionary tale back in’t’day (said tht in my yorkshire accent). she now works for summer camps coaching pee wee soccer and pee wee cheer, as well as helping out her beekeeper dad on his honey farm, which is jst north of abernathy creek, and working at scuba on the off seasons.

—  its just her and her dad, and has been for as long as she can recall !! everything she knows about her mum could fit on the back of the weathered passport photo she keeps in her wallet of a stranger who shares her face - her name’s melody, or at least tht was name she used when working as a dancer, she’s from argentina and dropped mag’s dad as soon as someone w more money came along.

—  margo’s father is a beekeeper with his own organic honey company. margo and her dad moved to irving in the early 00s, the summer between grade school and middle school, because her dad had heard about the communal living in abernathy creek and wanted to lend his skills there and live off the fatta the land in a very lenny from of mice and men kinda way.

—  for a few years of middle school margo was bullied for living with the ‘freaks from the creek’, but when they realised how chill her dad was with underage drinking, margo ‘keg-bringer’ colby soon gained popularity among the more renegade students. every so often, the high school parties would happen at her end of town, occasionally with members of the commune even offering the high schoolers a spiritual experience they’d never forget (often in the form of mushrooms) which meant people tried to stay on her good side. to get an invite to a margo colby party handed you a free pass to make up the most ridiculous shit about the commune you liked and nobody else could say anything, because they’d never been to the creek.

—  at school, margo had a lot of ‘behvioural issues’ bcos of undiagnosed adhd, she found it difficult to sit still for hours n write down huge chunks of information n her restlessness was seen as laziness. she was encouraged to do sports, as were most of the kids who weren’t that academically inclined, but she turned out to be pretty hot shit at sprinting, because she grew up surrounded by bee houses and he who runs slowest gets stung, baybeyy!! so yea, in school sports became her LIFE. she was gonna get a sports scholarship to college but ended up dropping out of school in senior year n becoming one of those kids who could have had it all but lost it.

—  she had sex with sutter at a house party when she wasnt really ready because it felt like the right thing to do at the time and everybody else was doing it. she’d attended health class, she’d seen the corny videos. she knew about all the statistics, but she also knew that it had never happened to anyone she knew and the pull out method was basically safer than the morning after pill and way less expensive.

—  a teenage pregnancy knocked her out of the runnings for prom queen and meant she had to leave school early. she didn’t go to college when her friends did, instead she spent the time interviewing potential foster candidates and eating her weight in lindt chocolate while marathoning love island in her room.  

—  she had a son, who she passed off to someone else a couple of towns away.  it was a closed adoption which seemed like the best idea at the time, but she now wishes she had access to his life.

—  after peaking in high school and jumping between jobs for a few years, she got a more permanent role at scuba which she loves with all of her heart and soul, but unfortunately a bar job doesn’t pay the rent.  

—  she works at summer camps coaching  junior soccer and netball on the side. she’s extremely competitive and takes it very personally if her team lose. the kids all call her, coach colby n write her longwinded letters about how they’ll never forget this summer camp before they go back to their suburban picket fence houses n she keeps all the letters in a drawer n takes them out to read when she’s feelin depressed.

—  enjoys surfing and worked for a number of years on resorts like mila kunis’ job in forgetting sarah marshall. she went on to work 18-hour days as a stewardess on luxury yachts which is a part of her backstory i added after watching season one of below deck because i guess i really am that fucking impressionable. met most of her surf friends doing tht but said she’d never in her life do it again bcos it was mostly just picking up after rich white ppl for shit pay. she came back to irving n thats when she started doing the summer camp jobs so she could move out of the creek n get her own apartment. 

—  she never actually finished senior year so she’s currently going to night school at the community college to get through her exams and is trying to save to go to college or open university. she wants to major in criminology. she’s super ambitious but also super adhd so she fluctuates between thinking she can achieve anything to just feeling like a failure n thinkin whats the point

—  used to shoplift to feel joy and as an act of resistance to her hippy commune routes, but now sees herself as a reformed, bin-diving freegan (sims 4 eco living can i get a hell yaaaa). also she thinks it’s totally wrong to steal when you have enough money and clearly don’t need to steal to survive, ppl risk imprisonment for basic necessities, so for her to do it for a brief thrill and some new shades felt a bit derogatory

—  was raised jewish. became a vegetarian as a child because it seemed, at the time, easier than having to explain which foods she was and wasn’t allowed to eat together, so she just cut out meat entirely. still a vegetarian now and dabbles in veganism, although its become less about not eating certain meats in the milk of their mother and more about her global impact / carbon footprint

—  nurses little animals to health in her garden. has a hedgehog name OJ short for orange juice not the other one filthy pig. her and her dad have always been huge animal rights activists and existed on a vegetarian diet. the only one in their house who isn’t vegetarian is their cat, auggie. (short 4 augustus gloop)

—  has a lot of stupid ass stick and poke tattoos. there was a phase during her years as a barmaid where she wanted to train as a tattoo artist n would mostly practice on herself or any friends who would let her

—  she doesn’t form many long lasting friendships cos she tends to be super excited when she makes a new friend and just see them all the time but then it wears off and she can ghost a bit. she’ll always coming pinging back but she’s not the most predictable or loyal friend, sometimes she’ll sleep in your house every night for a week and then you won’t even get a text from her for a month. her best friends are elderly neighbours and houseless people she meets when volunteering at the foodbank. she thinks they’re more authentic than most of the ‘fake posers’ she meets down the vela pier

—  calls herself a butch lesbian but still has sex with men when she wants validation. sexually attracted to some men, especially effeminate men, but only romantically attracted to women. very possessive of the gals in her life.

—  stopped giving a shit about getting older or adhering to anyone elses bullshit standards, realised it was all fake p much as soon as she dropped out of school and one by one her friends just stopped texting her

—  lives in one of the lofts in port apartments. it’s open plan with rugs and lava lamps everywhere. she has a palette bed. its all very ‘sustainable chic’. like, oh wow, a pallet bed that im supposed to think you made from scratch but i KNOW you got it  off ebay because you thought it looked trendy

—  constantly says shes poor but still buys clothes from urban outfitters. sus.

—  frequently found at fannies flirting with the cute bisexual bartender with a choppy black bob.

general vibe / personality

vibrant, vulgar, self-absorbed, tenacious, veers bewteen apathetic and dogmatic, temperamental, flighty, unreliable, magnetic, charismatic, passive aggressive, likes to play devil’s advocate, takes the moral high ground. estp and a leo

likes: 70s music, john wayne movies, black mirror, philosophy, cowboy chic culture, dc comics, the smell of locker rooms,, deep red lipstick, lacrosse sticks, smoking weed from a bong, dogs, karaoke, pet rats, kate moss, late-night strolls, hawaaiian shirts worn open over a bralette, skinned knees, thai food, picking the apples at the very top of the trees, zip-lining, cigarettes, the idea of pegging but not the practical application of it, decorative lamps, LGBTQ+ pin badges, worn-out furniture, twangy electric guitars.

dislikes: girls who call other girls ‘pick me’ girls, woody allen movies, mental mathematics, wealthy children, quentin tarantino, ironing, institutionalised misogyny, the imaginary future, french literature, ‘dump him’ feminism, wes anderson films, spoken word poetry nights, college-educated bar staff who act like they’re better than you,  indie softbois, the general mentality of cheerleading squads.

aesthetics

orange peel, the smell of bleach, skeleton drawings in the margins of a journal, thumb holes poked through the cuffs of your sleeves, bleach white sneakers pounding on a gymnasium floor, setting dumpsters on fire for the hell of it. a hit flask of vodka decorated with hello kitty stickers, split knuckles, alien conspiracy theories and sci-fi paperbacks, doc martens with fraying laces, a child in an oversize bee keepers suit, scabbed knees, not eating your greens, smiling with a mouthful of blood, and piercing your own ears with a safety pin when your dad wouldn’t take you,  a tennis racket you punched through in a fit of temper, feet pounding the earth until your soles bleed crimson, sleeping in a cherry lip balm and scrunchies to keep the wild locks from your eyes.

hoo boy this is getting LONG AS FUCK but here are my wanted plots

wanted plots

ok margo’s been in irving since she was like 10. she’s quite a vivacious person?? she dresses completely instinctively without any sense of cohesion so she stands out. a guy once told her she was wearing the ugliest outfit he’d ever seen and he thought that was so cool and brave of her. but anyway where was i going.. she grew up in the abernathy creek so stuck out like a sore thumb,,,, maybe ppl who were super interested in the creek or maybe poked fun at her bcos of it idk.....

b4 she dropped out, margo used 2 b in with the cool kids at school bcos her dad would buy them booze and rarely ask for the money. maybe a fun plot cld b with some of the ‘it girls’ she used to hang around with b4 she got pregnant n dropped out and they all went off to college n stopped texting her.

frinds !! unlikely friends !! toxic friends !! some1 she feels like she knew before irving ???

since margo literally can’t differentiate between romantic and platonic love, she’s got off with so many of her mates, so i want awkward friendships where they nearly dated, or exes that have now just turned into weird friendships. fwbs. enemies with benefits. all the angst. all the slow burn mutual pining we hate each other narratives

locals who play sports. margo wld be all over community soccer n take it way too seriously. maybe ppl she plays hockey with. girls who she’s like, weirdly intimate with but its not a thing cos the other girls straight !!! what do u mean !! aha just fun !

she works part time at scuba. i want a mate that just goes and sits in there talking to her until her manager gets angry.

she's also a surf instructor and occasionally works as a lifeguard!! gal has like 7 jobs ik but regular swimmers hmu

ppl she coaches at the gym !! she wants to be a personal trainer

i reckon she might have recently started meditating to try and calm down her mind cos its always bustling with thoughts, n i think she’s p interested in buddhism so if anyone’s a buddhist hmu

someone she’s trying to make a zine with on female empowerment and women in film and art, etc. just a very feminist zine. 

TLDR:  angry sports gay, former high school track prodigy turned drop out, who likes feminist literature, wearing leather jackets over slip dresses, and smudged red lipstick.

this was so long !!! im sorry !! if you’ve read this far have a biscuit, love x

[debiteful]

Would it be possible to request this?: It's winter, and a naga haven't been able to find shelter in time. A friend of their's, either an anthro!pelican or merperson, came to them and offered them a warm place to stay. The naga couldn't help but chuckle a bit, because how where they supposed to carry something as big and long as a naga? However their friend did end up surprising them. (Contains: Safe vore, same size (possibly larger prey), willing.)

Contains: Safe vore, soft vore, larger willing naga prey, anthro pelican pred, large bulging belly, mild discomfort, protection vore

Normally Nick didn't spend much time where other people were. They were noisy, smelly, and distrustful of nagas like him. However, this winter had been unkind to him so far. The first big snow had come before he expected it and it had collapsed a large part of the roof of his home out in the wilderness. Between the icy shell around everything and the bitter winds, he hadn't been able to find materials to repair it. He had been essentially homeless for a couple days now. His scales were dull and he was shivering constantly; being half warmblooded just wasn't enough with this weather!

He was thankful that his food stash had escaped most of the damage. Being hungry on top of all this would've been awful. However those supplies wouldn't last forever.

Today he was looking forward to a supply drop-off from his favorite mailman, Samoset. The stout pelican wasn't one to chatter on meaninglessly, and was fairly tolerable compared to most people. He always had something good to say and was very serious about his duties. Nick liked to think that they were friends, though the state of their relationship had never been spoken about.

The shivering naga waited all day for his friend to arrive, but he never came. At first he thought the delivery bird might just be running late; it wouldn't be the first time. However, as the day wore on, and there was still no sign of him, Nick began to get frustrated.

As the sun was setting, he decided he had had enough. Sammy just wasn't coming it seemed. Beyond that, the clouds were low and dark, sure signs of a snow storm coming. He didn't want to spend all night in the miserable weather. The Naga slithered out, shivering all the while, intent on getting to town.

Meanwhile, Samoset was having one heck of a day. The intern didn't show up to the mail room so he was left to sort it all out himself, and run deliveries. He got so caught up in the flurry of work that he nearly forgot about his special delivery. By the time he did remember, the sun was low on the horizon. He left the post office in a flustered flurry of feathers, the sled with the building materials for dear Nick trailing along behind.

The narrow forest trail was blanketed in snow, and by the looks of it more was on the way. Sam was thankful for his tall boots and that the wide sled glided on top of the thick snow. He trudged along dutifully, even as the first snow flakes started to fall.

The world became a cool, dark blue as twilight came and the sun went. He was only about half way to his destination, but something up ahead blocked his path. The long, dark form lay along the trail; what an odd way for a tree to fall. Samoset wasn't going to let a little hurdle like that stand in his way, especially when he had come so far.

As he approached, he made out limbs- hair and scales?! He threw the sled's tether back onto his cargo and hurried forward. He fell to his knees near the fallen naga's head. Sure enough, it was Nick, his whole body trembling.

He looked up at Sam with eyelids hanging low. He yawned as best he could despite chattering teeth, "Samoset? Finally."

The pelican chuckled, his empty pouch wobbling as he shook his head wryly; only Nick would be on death's icy doorstep and still gruff as ever. Sam brushed the snow off his friend, "Come on, I gotta get you somewhere safe and warm."

Nick giggled, the sound carrying on far too long and vibrating with his jaw. It was the first time Sam had heard him laugh at all! 

"What is it?" The concerned bird pressed.

"H-how issss a little g-guy like you gonn-na to c-carry a long, heavy fella like me any-where? I'm like- pure muscle and that ain't light-t-t." It took the words much too long to get out given how badly his teeth were chattering. His whole body spammed with each shiver now, leaving him twisted and quivering on the path. 

"Its okay," Sam assured him, "I got you now. Hauling around parcels all day has left me strong," he added with a grin. 

He knew what needed to happen next, but he was reluctant. It could completely alienate Nick. Even as a naga, Sam knew he didn't take live prey often. On top of that, they never were allowed back out.

He shuffled to the end of his friend's tail and picked it up in both hands. Then, he pushed it into his mouth, sending the tip right to the back to be swallowed. Hand over hand he pulls the scaley tail into his maw. With each gulp he picked up speed, the excess sagging into his mouth pouch and making it bulge. Cool scales clacked against his short beak as he devoured his friend.

All the while Nick hardly reacted. The warmth of the postmans body felt like he was being consumed by fire. His whole body burned with light pinpoints as his frozen nerves thawed. Sam could feel the tip of the serpents tail waving inside his gut, but the upper body was still except for the frequent involuntary shivers.

With expert precision Sam tucked Nick's hands into his mouth. The naga wiggled his fingers as they warmed, "Th-th-thanks".

That was the last word Samoset expected, and it brought a warm glow to his cheeks. He smiled and gulped down the last of his naga pal, his head sliding along the bottom of the stretchy mouth pouch.

Once his endangered friend was down, Sam was able to focus on just how full he was. Chill air nipped at his exposed belly through the fluffy layer of feathers that covered his body. His uniform had popped right open, leaving his stretched gut full of Nick sagging out freely. He could see rounded shapes of his friend coiled up into a bundle im his stomach. The tension ached a little, but it was well worth it. 

With work strengthened limbs he supported his massive belly, hands cradling its bulk while legs straightened and carried him back down the trail. When he got to the sled, he let his lumpy load rest upon the building supplies. The sled sank, but not completely. With a pleased grin, Sam pushed off and began the cold walk back into the town.

The streets were devoid of people thankfully. It wouldn't do to have the local postmaster become the talk of the town for eating someone. He pressed on merrily towards his home along the dark roads.

As he warmed up, Nick became more active inside him. Long coils shifted around to expose new areas to the warm, soft flesh that enveloped him. He also squirmed to get comfortable, much preferring the softness of Sam's belly or stomach walls to the firm base of building supplies that the stomach rested on.

When Samoset arrive home he crawled right into bed. He lay on his side with his giant belly cushioned on the mattress beside him. He was unsure how long Nick would need to recover. Hopefully the night was long enough, plus perhaps some warm drinks in the morning. And of course they would need to bring extra when they went to complete the roof repair. Thinking about it, he figured he should really just book the whole day off. Such thoughts filled Samoset's mind as he drifted off to sleep. Nick had already fallen asleep before reaching the house, so comforted and warm was he.

[corruptedconfessions]

I saw ya do yu yu hakusho as well :^) could I get dragon!hiei headcanons please, sfw or nsfw or both! I am a thirsty bish. I am just a simple anon, when I see a dark, edgy boi, I get thirsty for content about them. 💫💫 (Im gonna pretend you dont know who i am whoop-)

Oh nooo whoever could be this anon in my asksss ;)

This isn’t yandere btw! I wanted some soft content for edgy boy

SFW:

-Very typical dragon horde, gold, jewels, the occasional rotting human corpse, once he starts planning on bringing you in it becomes covered in luxurious fabrics, expensive clothing, soft royalty level bedding

-Also really likes human weapons, especially swords

-Probably will fall in love with someone he sees frequently, like a bartender or waitress at a human village that sells some good meat

-Its never raw enough for him but he craves human spices sometimes

-You’ll be moving into his den with him, no and if or buts about it, theres no way he will be willing to stay in some human village 

-Very aloof at first, honestly he’ll pretty much ignore you other than giving you food and occasionally checking in to make sure you are alive and not completely miserable 

-Does little things, like noting foods you like slightly more, stealing shit ton of items and carefully watching you till you show even the slightest bit of preference, and then he’ll absolutely drown you in those items

-Very protective of you, he’ll let you wonder his territory freely but know he’ll always be nearby, guarding you closely as he makes sure he’s always close enough to swoop in in case you are in danger or hurt.

-Surprisingly gentle with you, he’s aware of how fragile humans are, especially after having killed as many as he has so he knows just how easily he could hurt you, and is mindful not to

-Silent type, he won’t be very vocal with how much he loves you, but he’s actions speak much louder than words ever could, you would be shocked at how aware and thoughtful he can be

-Likes to take you on rides on his back, the feeling of soaring through the air with you clinging to him is a feeling he cherishes

-Will rather unhappily let you drag him into towns to do whatever you want to do, he doesn’t like humans all that much but he’ll transform into his human form and follow you around, letting you enjoy yourself with the filthy humans

-You’re the only human he could possibly ever tolerate

NSFW:

-Not exactly subtle or romantic, he more so sees sex as something he has to deal with and does when he feels like it than anything too significant 

-If he gets hard he’ll just deal with it? He doesn’t see the big deal

-Once he has you he’ll probably climb ontop of you in the middle of the night and start rutting up against you, gasping silently as he tucks his face into your neck, fully planning on just doing it right there. Bc he horny

-If you down with that, great! He’ll grunt and make soft noises as he fucks you rough into the floor, theres no foreplay or slowness here, just the pure animalistic need to get off so he can sleep

-If that's not so much your speed he’ll adapt to you, a little confused but willing to change to fit you!

-He’ll try to go slower and be more romantic for you but in the end he’ll still end up pushing your thighs to your chest as he fucks you silly, growling and grunting in your ear as he nips at your fragile skin with his sharp teeth, desperate to leave marks

-He’ll cum inside of you every. time. 

-Possessive bastard likes watching the cum drip down your thighs afterwards, plus it makes it so you smell like him, inside and out

-You’ll have to teach him what kissing is but after you do he’ll never be able to get enough of it, he constantly is lapping and nipping at your mouth, turning human just to press his lips against yours

-He loves it