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#but needed to be out of the house to know whether i was ill or not
sjyfave · 1 day
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just the three of us.
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pairing: female!reader x fwb jay & heeseung
warning: friends with benefits, threeway relationship, fingering, jay is more dominant, heeseungs more submissive, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, jay receiving head from reader, cum swallowing
wc: 3.2k
i don't mention y/ns hair at all so anyone can be represented. whether you wear a bonnet, or your hair in a bun, just know in this they fuck you regardless of what's on your head ok? ok.
and typos? MAYBE! but i try to not upload with typos. sometimes they slip me.. have mercy on me
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"goodmorning~" heeseung jokingly whispered into your left ear, his body draped over yours as he woke you from your midday nap. the right side of his face lays on top of your left as your eyes stay closed, your left hand coming up to hold heeseungs forearm as his arm wraps around your upper body, close to your neck.
you're dressed in an oversized t-shirt and tight cotton shorts, heeseung shirtless with baggy plaid boxers. "where's jay?" you ask in english, your left hand leaving heeseungs arm to feel around the cold sheets in front of you in a failed attempt to stretch. "probably getting you something to eat." heeseung responds, his hand cupping your cheeks momentarily as he moves from behind you, kissing you on the lips once before shuffling to kneel by your legs.
he rips your double size bedsheet and comforter off your legs, the air cold and brisk on your skin. heeseung takes advantage of you curling your legs towards your chest in response , moving to push his pelvis against your ass, grabbing each of your legs to avoid you kicking his lower stomach.
he parts your legs enough for you to instinctively lay flat on your back. heeseung lays between them, falling forward so the right side of his face lays on your breasts. he moves his legs from their propped-up position to rest himself completely on you, his feet and part of his calves hanging off the bed.
jay walks in the moment the weight of heeseungs head lays heavily on your chest, wearing baggy shorts and an ill-fitting white shirt. his right hand lifts to line up his iced coffee straw to his mouth, and his left hand placing a bowl of washed fruit down on the bedside table.
you don't visit korea often, but when you do, jay always makes sure you're staying in the best possible housing. you speak the native language just enough for you to make it around the city of seoul, but outside of your interactions with enhypen, there isn't much for you to do besides text or facetime your friends whenever you can.
so when jay and heeseung have the freetime to come see you, they're out of their dorms quickly, belift always reiterating to them the importance of staying unidentifiable. their members either pay them no mind whenever they leave, or dap them up as they head out the door—jake—managers helping them travel from point 'a to b' without being spotted.
but once they unlock the front door of your apartment, they're all over you, masks off, pushing anything you were doing beforehand aside.
jay steps towards the bed until his knees touch the mattress, his right knee coming up to rest on the bed as he continues to drink, his eyebrows frowned in habit. "i was wondering where you were" you commented towards jay, ignoring the weight of heeseungs torso on yours. "thought you needed something to eat." he responds as he swallows, his love for actions of service making you smile.
"well, thank you." you responded, looking down at heeseungs frame. "so why are y'all naked?" you joke lightly, looking at their attire. "wanted to be comfy." heeseung answers truthfully, his hands laying at your sides, listening to your heartbeat. jay doesn't answer you—especially because he'd only argue about how not naked he actually is.
"i brought a change of clothes." jay answers plainly, looking around your slightly messy room. "stop looking for something to clean and come here." you answer, your right hand reaching out for him. your hand rests on his knee, grabbing the leg of his shorts before tugging.
jay moves his drink from his right hand to his left, placing it down on the bedside table before crawling up the bed to meet you. you move your arm so it isn't in the way as he crawls closer to you, leaning over to kiss your forehead once before pulling away. heeseung flips his head to the opposite side so he isn't eye level with jays lower body, closing his eyes momentarily.
"i missed you." jay confesses, maneuvering himself on the bed so he's laying beside you, his left knee under your right one. "i missed you too." you respond as he leans in for a kiss, his eyes open as he pecks you once, your eyes interlocked as he pulls away, two inches between your nose and his. his right hand comes up to cup your face as he scoots closer, your left cheek cooler than his palm.
jay leans in again, his eyes closed this time. his kiss is firm, rough, and sensual, a strong contrast from the kisses heeseung usually gives.
each movement of his lips are passionate, his grip moving to the back of your neck to hold you steady. heeseung moves his head off your chest, pulling himself up on his hands as he hovers over you and jays kiss. his right hand pulls your shirt up over your frame, your left hand shooting up in reflex before pausing.
heeseung slowly lowers himself down towards your chest, your boobs parted slightly as he laid a kiss right in the middle of your cleavage. he's always been more shy than jay when it came to sexual advances, so he constantly needs reassurance. your left hand comes up for reassurance, lightly playing in his hair. you force a moan to reassure him, and he lights up at the sound, his right hand coming up to grope your left boob, his index and middle fingers rubbing across your nipple.
jay continues to slowly kiss you, his right hand moving up and down the base and nape of your neck. heeseung lightly continuing to play with your left breast, his left hand rubbing up and down your right side. his touch is featherlike, causing you to twitch slightly. heeseung smiles in response before pulling his groin close to yours, his lack of pants making his print more invasive and hot against your crotch.
selfishly, he grinds against you once, biting his thin bottom lip. both his hands grip your waist, his thumbs lightly digging into the flesh of your stomach as he stares between your legs. he continues to lightly grind himself down against you, the base of his dick constantly rubbing up against your clitoral area. you reach your left hand down to reach out for heeseungs chest, his right hand meeting your wrist instead as he continues to rock against you, each grind forward, jerking your kiss with jay.
jay pulls away from you momentarily to look back at heeseung who immediately moves off of you completely to come to your left side, jays right hand immediately snakes downward, his fingers hooking and slipping underneath both your shorts and underwear. heeseung gets the message, grabbing the waistband of your shorts and underwear together to pull them off at once, both articles of clothing tangling with the light struggle of each tugging down your now closing legs.
jays middle finger traces up and down against your vagina, collecting your arousal before harshly pressing down on your clit, rubbing small, slow clockwise circles. heeseung moves off the bed to watch, his right and left hands pushing your thighs apart. in slight embarrassment, you try to clench your legs together, but heeseungs fingers dig into your thighs once he feels your thigh muscles move.
"please." heeseung lightly speaks, trying not to sound perverted as he stares intently between your legs. "you look, so good." he finishes, his right thumb rubbing up your inner thigh. jay continues to harshly rub your clit with his middle finger, looking down at his hand as he does so. he makes brief eye contact with heeseung who smirks in response before sitting up, his own right hand coming up to lightly push his middle finger inside your entrance.
you immediately moan in response, your legs pulling up slightly as your hands come up to your face in slight embarrassment at the persist attention. "move your hands." heeseung spits out lightly, his ring finger slowly pushing in. you do move your hands, but you're not sure where to put them, so you lightly grab jays face with your right.
jay immediately looks back at you for another kiss, much softer this time. heeseung slowly pumps his fingers in and out, lightly curling upwards once the base of his fingers makes contact with your labia. each push and pull of heeseungs fingers sound more wet than the last, and jays consistent motion against your clit unwavers.
"you're so perfect." jay compliments honestly, his lips still close to you as he periodically kisses you between compliments. "everything about you-" he kisses you again as your right hand falls from his face, limp. "-is so fucking perfect." he finishes breathlessly, pulling away from you completely to sit back on the soles of his feet. his shorts are tight at the crotch, and your right hand immediately reaches for it, but his left hand grabs your wrist.
"not yet." he states, looking down at his hand tirelessly working between your legs. heeseungs pace has picked up a bit, watching your face for reaction. your face doesn't disappoint, your mouth gaping a little at the pace change. jay picks up on it immediately, his ring finger matching with his middle finger to rub your clit faster, your legs jerking slightly. "oh my go-" you barely get out before your eyes both close, your hands coming up to cup your mouth to prevent too much noise.
"move your hands or we stop." jay threatens lightly, his pace slowing slightly. your hands immediately move from your face to grab for him again, both arms wrapped around his neck as jay lazily kisses you once again, most of his focus on his hand.
the moment your orgasm hits, your mouth gapes open, jay kissing down your right cheek to push your head to the side so heeseung can see your expression. "fuck." heeseung swears lightly under his breath the moment he feels his fingers grow increasingly wetter, his eyes peeled on the shine of his fingers.
"i'm so hard right now." heeseung comments to himself in korean, jay smiling against your cheek before pulling himself up. "same." he responds in english, finally pulling his tired hand away from between your legs. heeseung slowly pulls his fingers out from inside you, jay shuffling over to watch the way they glisten in the pale sunlight. "if it wasn't weird, i'd suck your fingers clean." jay starts again in korean, heeseung lightly smirking to the right in response before bringing his hand up to your mouth.
the moment his two fingers lightly touch your bottom lip, your mouth opens again—you didn't remember closing it to begin with—for heeseung to slide both his fingers inside, your lips pursing around them to suck them clean. heeseung lightly groans at the action, pushing you to suck slightly as he pulls his cleaned fingers out of your mouth with a light popping sound.
"can you sit up for me, baby?" jay asks in english, his eyes scanning your body which now feels so exposed. you happily do, your shirt falling down over your chest as you cross your legs, waiting. heeseung huffs a laugh at your posture, both men moving up on the bed to sit beside and in front of you.
heeseung slowly removes himself of his boxers before kneeling in front of you, his erection heavy and dark. he's pretty shaven besides a small patch at the base of his dick, the entire shaft a slight deep purple shade. your left hand comes up to lightly cup the bottom of it, and heeseung hisses in response, his body twitching slightly. jay doesn't look at the interaction at all, his right hand grabbing yours to rub it against the length of his erection. the back of your palm feels hot as he rubs it up and down the fabric of his shorts, light groans escaping his lips every time he pushes your hand to his tip.
"take those shorts off, jay." you comment, your eyes looking down at your hand. he lets go of your wrist to move to stand on the bed, his groin about your eye level. he pulls the waistband of his shorts and briefs down enough with his right hand to pull himself out with his left. his erection just as dark as heeseungs, but veiner as he lightly wraps his fingers around the base of his dick, looking down at you with dark eyes.
jay pulls his shorts and briefs down further, pushing you to scramble to your feet to help tug them both down his legs. heeseungs eyes tear up slightly at the lack of touch, his boner heavy and shiny. jay almost comically steps out of his bottoms, first with his left, then his right.
the moment the articles of clothing fell limp within your hands, you pulled them closer to you to avoid hitting heeseung and tossed them to your left, the sound of them falling on the floor in slight distance.
"can you get in the center of the bed?" jay asked, taking cautious steps backwards as heeseung moved himself off the bed, almost as if he knew jays plan. you pulled yourself up to shift to your right, now on your knees in front of jay, now facing your beds pillows.
"perfect." jay compliments loosely before plopping down in front of you, fast enough to make you almost laugh before he spreads his legs apart, his arms at his sides as he leans against the head of your bed, the pillows helping him sit more upright. his right knee is hiked up as his left leg lays flat on the mattress giving you such a view you immediately drop your upper half to meet his erection at eye level.
heeseung wastes no time grabbing himself with his right hand, scrambling up the bed. he immediately taps the head of his penis against your clit, lightly swirling it around in a teasing matter. you move your legs further apart to accommodate him, and you hear an approving groan from behind. heeseung wastes no time to push himself into you, air escaping your lungs. you can't help but fall forward, your forehead resting right between jay's upper left thigh and his erection.
jays left hand comes up to support you, his hand running down your upper back slightly, comforting. you pull your head back up again at the touch before positioning yourself better to take heeseung, simultaneously wrapping your right hand around jay's dick. he's very expressive, his lips parting slightly as his eyes close. a soft lighter moan than expected escapes his lips and you can't help but focus on it, looking up at jay through your lashes.
heeseungs grip on your waist is strong, his main focus being himself after getting you off earlier. he slams into you every two seconds, a light grunt leaving his mouth as his forehead grows sweaty. "fuck." he moans breathlessly before biting harshly on his bottom lip. "god, heeseung." you moan in response, looking over your left shoulder for a split second to hold eye contact.
his eyes almost seem darker in colour, his face stone cold. he can't bother faking a smile to reassure you and it turns you on further as he breaks eye contact to look down at himself again. you look forward, your right hand tightening around jays erection before wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock loosely.
"fuck, please." jay pleads in response, his hands at his sides to avoid pushing your head down further. you breathe in through your mouth once before making sure to angle himself properly in your mouth so your teeth don't come in contact with jay at all.
you bob your head once while making a light humming sound at the back of your throat, helping you avoid gagging. your head is sloppy from the beginning, drooling all over jay's dick and your hand, carefully listening for the way jay pants in response. heeseungs pace has slowed down since you started giving jay head, his pace slow and steady, grinding lightly every time his hips met the base of your ass.
you end up moaning on jays dick once or twice, having to pull off to avoid unnecessary choking, coughing. jay is immediately worried, using his hands to pull you back to eye level, giving you time to breathe. "its okay, don't hurt yourself." he comments, giving you time to tighten your grip around his length, pumping upwards. his bottom lip moves downward slightly hissing, his eyelids fluttering slightly.
the moment his grip on your face softens you move back down again, confidently licking up the underside of his erection, a loud low moan leaving his lips. "you're perfect." he moans in korean lightly, his left hand coming up to lightly rest at the base of your head. "so perfect.." he mutters lowly, evoking a smile on your face. you wrap your lips around the head of his cock, sucking harshly, the sound almost bouncing off the walls. the reaction from jay makes it so worth it, his groan loud and deep as you continue harshly jacking him off.
heeseungs thrusts begin feeling more erratic quickly, his breathing irregular. "y/n–" "–do it." you pull off quickly to answer, knowing exactly what heeseung wants. "f—uck." heeseung lets out softly before speeding his thrusts up until they're only at one second intervals. his breathing is heavy behind you, and you know sucking jay off during this would only result in disaster, so you stick to jacking him off tightly while sucking on his tip, jays reactions still rewarding.
heeseung comes to a halt, his hands gripping tightly on your waist as you feel his cum lightly pour inside of you, causing you to moan in response, breathing heavily out your mouth as all your movements halt.
jay doesn't scold you, but he whines in response, enough of a reaction to push you to finally get him off. as heeseung slowly pulls out of you, watching the way his groin glistens, you begin to suck jay off like before, you head bobbing every two seconds, sucking harshly each time you came back up. "ye—s, fuck, please." jay pleaded lightly, his left hand now laying flatly on the crown of your head.
you hum i response to him before you feel jay push and hold your head down for the first time, signalling hes close. "give it to her." heeseung playfully mutters under his breath, slapping your right ass cheek once with his opposite hand before slipping his thumb inside of you once again, drawing more of his and your cum out.
jay groans one final time before you feel him begin to spurt into your mouth, slimy on your tongue. you try your best to swallow, but anything that remains in your mouth you let collect with your saliva, some of it escaping, down jays shaft. the moment jay lets go of your head, you pull off to cough a little, trying to hide it as best you can while blinking away tears.
you pull up to jays eye level, cum and spit lining your lips. jays eyes open slowly to look at you, a wave of remorse on his features.
"i'm so sorry." he responds genuinely, but you smile regardless, using your right hands fingers to wipe around your lips to collect whats left, pushing it into your own mouth to swallow.
jay groans at this action, his now limp dick pulsing once in a lame response.
"you're so gorgeous." jay compliments, heeseung stepping up from behind you to offer his thumb.
"oh please." you respond before taking heeseungs thumb into your mouth, breaking eye contact.
© sjyfave on tumblr 2024
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milk-boy · 7 months
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sometimes i lose sight and forget love is the answer.
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shenzuns · 1 year
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Hgrgh
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silhouettecrow · 7 months
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365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 291
Adjective: Giant
Noun: Window
Definitions for those who need/want them:
Giant: of very great size or force, or gigantic; used in names of very large animals and plants, e.g. giant hogweed, giant tortoise
Window: an opening in the wall or roof of a building or vehicle that is fitted with glass or other transparent material in a frame to admit light or air and allow people to see out; a pane of glass filling a window; an opening in a wall or screen through which customers are served in a bank, ticket office, or similar building; a space on the inside of a store's window where goods are displayed for sale; a means of observing and learning about something; a transparent panel on an envelope to show an address; (computing) a framed area on a display screen for viewing information; an interval or opportunity for action; an interval during which atmospheric and astronomical circumstances are suitable for the launch of a spacecraft; (physics) a range of electromagnetic wavelengths for which a medium (especially the atmosphere) is transparent; strips of metal foil or metal filings dispersed in the air to obstruct radar detection
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so like. fnaf movie. after night five, all outside observers know is "this 30yo guy with severe anger issues + his 10yo mentally ill sister just walked out of his collapsing workplace with an unconscious, stabbed police officer, saying that someone inside the building tried to kill them but we can't get into the building to check. we went to their house and the aunt who was fighting for custody of the child is dead on the floor. the guy's career counselor is missing, as is his babysitter and her family and apparently they're all dead in the building we can't get into." and like. that all looks suspicious as FUCK however we know that in the few-weeks timeskip both mike and abby seem happy and fine so it's not like mike was arrested or anything. he seems to be more adjusted and is happily talking with her teacher so i doubt he's under stress of interrogation or anything
there's a lot of implications there that mike mighta pulled something but it's all circumstantial evidence at best. i'm sure in jane's autopsy and crime scene evidence they couldn't find any evidence of mike being the one to attack her, esp since it was probably just golden freddy bopping her in the head so they dont even have the weapon, and if she was strangled they'd be able to tell it wasn't by bare hands and they couldnt get prints or anyth. especially if golden freddy is a FULL ghost and thus left no trail.
mike would be smart enough to only tell the cops what they need to know without mentioning ghosts to sound crazy. abby might be more honest with the cops just bc of #autism but they'd be more likely to consider her talking about ghosts and imaginary friends as a child's way of coping, and they cant get anything out of her that would incriminate mike. ADD TO THAT that mike has wounds that are clearly defensive and is SUPER banged up and his wounds would likely match his story way better than evidence of him attacking anyone, AND that there's likely footage and witnesses of him being in the pharmacy and then driving to work (and thus not in the area to attack jane), AND if/when nessie wakes up she'll probably vouch for mike as well, and the cops dont have anything on him
though i DO wonder if they would have records of vanessa patching him up in the police outpost. if they do, that would also back up mike's story as it's 1) far away from the aunt jane crime scene, 2) confirms that he and vanessa were working together, so either she's complicit in Crime™ or his story is accurate and she was helping him save his sister. him going to defend her instead of calling backup is also consistent with his personality of getting triggered and jumping into action around child abduction, esp w/ his sibling in danger
considering what abby would probably say, AND the history of freddy's, it's likely that they would come to the conclusion of is "someone [likely the og kidnapper from the 80s] found out that the guy working at freddy's had a sister, kidnapped abby from her house while her aunt was babysitting and tried to recreate the crimes, his story of him and vanessa defending her and escaping vaguely checks out." whether or not mike would incriminate vanessa by mentioning her dad was the killer is up in the air, and there's obviously some huge holes that are left from nobody believing that there are ghosts in the building but that would probably be the eventual conclusion
but throwing that all away, it would be really, REALLY funny if the rest of the town, being really fuckin nosy and getting into the juiciest gossip they've had in decades, took one look at michael "big teddy bear falling asleep on himself" schmidt and said "there's no way. there's no way this guy murdered his aunt, stabbed an officer and then destroyed his own workplace, especially when he really needed that job and was on sleeping medication," and then turned around to look at abby "neurodivergent in the early 2000s (ableist af time period)" "vocally hates her aunt" "doesn't talk to anyone and claims that she can see ghosts" "vaguely possessive of her brother" "claims that she found the guy who hurt her friends and got him jumped by a cupcake(?)" schmidt and said "oh my god. it was her."
and nobody's gonna directly say anything but they've got cautious eyes on the situation and someone quietly slips mike a copy of the bad seed to see if he has a realization but instead he's just like "hey this book kinda reminds of that golden freddy kid lmao. wonder how he's doin" and then we smashcut to golden freddy kid poking springtrap with a stick
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communistchilchuck · 2 months
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Noha reached out to me on Twitter to share her fundraiser. She's urgently trying to raise $95,160 to evacuate her 22-person family from Gaza and help them gain access to life-saving medical care. She's only made $7,942 out of her goal so far! Please donate, and if you can't, please share!
From her GFM page:
Help me save my family
Hello, I am Noha Ayyad, a Palestinian from Gaza, specifically from Shujaiya. My family was forcibly displaced from their homes to the southern Gaza Strip, and they now live in tents in the central area, where 22 people live in a small tent suffering from a lack of water and food, including children who were deprived of their basic rights to education and life like the rest of the children in the world. The Israeli Defense Forces completely bombed our house, and we lost our business. My brothers worked in the clothing trade and had a clothing distribution shop. It was destroyed along with the house. They lost their work and all their money, and they no longer had a place to return to.
My mother suffers from arthritis and back pain, and my brother suffers from paralysis in his right leg and needs regular treatment. He also suffers from a lack of necessary medicines in Gaza, as you know.
I lost my only child and my husband in the 2014 war
Now I am afraid of losing the rest of my family and I have nothing to do but ask them to evacuate from Gaza to a safe place to save their lives.
Travel is through the Rafah crossing. I asked for $5,000 per person over 16 and $2,500 for children under 16, which means I need $95,160 (13 adults x $5,000 + 9 children x $2,500) + GoFundMe fees( %2.99 + 0.05 cents for every transaction) total of ($2660)
Finally, $5,000 for travel expenses.
I hope for help from you and from everyone who has humanity and hears and sees what is happening in Gaza in terms of genocide and war.
Note that I was not accustomed to asking anyone for help before, but the curse of war, my longing and fear for my family, and I hope to meet them well before I find myself losing one of them again, as happened before in 2014. War. Whether this is due to bombing, it will be due to hunger and disease
Sincerely,
Noha Ayyad
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astolfofo · 2 months
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…I had a thought about the halovians(specifically sunday) and want to know peoples opinions. do u think he has nesting instincts? :3 thank u for listening to my ted talk.
hi (i did say i was gonna answer this 2 weeks ago unfortunately I forgot i'm so sorry.) But anyways, thank you for your ask, and 100% he does.
tw: non-con, forced pregnancy, dark content. truly the unedited sleep deprived trying to write.
Okay i finished writing this i know you didn't ask for acutal writing but i went ahead and did it anyways because why not hope u don't mind
also excuse the fact that thus was posted at 4am and I was half falling asleep already while writing this.
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There were three days in your life that you could have called the worst.
The first one was the day when Sunday took your life away from you, and claimed you to be his "wife". The second was when first time he chose to be intimate. The third was when you got pregnant as a result.
Nothing had ever stuck to you like the day after that. You felt like washing the sheets until your hands would bleed. You wanted to submerge yourself in bleach until every fiber of your body burned, shriveled up, and died.
You wanted to forget that it happened. That the events in the previous night ever happened at all.
But the soreness between your legs was a constant reminder. And even though the pain went away after a few days, it was replaced by something much worse. Something you feared.
You saw the signs from the second you got them. Your body felt heavy. You were constantly tired. You had lost interest in eating. It was obvious what was going on.
And for a few days, you tried to hide it. The longer Sunday didn't know, the better it was for you. That way, you could slowly while away your last few moments in peace before everything was taken from you in entirety.
After a few weeks, you couldn't hide it anymore. You remember staring at the double line on the pregnancy test.
You almost instantly broke down into tears. It wasn't anything that you hadn't already know n, but maybe part of you still just believed you were ill, that maybe there was another reason why you had missed your period that month. That the pain you kept experiencing was just from some kind of illness.
The last thing you could keep away from Sunday was taken away from you that day. The sense of freedom you could've had.
To Sunday, you suppose this was the final step he needed to take to bind you to him. Another way to control you. Another way to keep you in his arms, and make sure you wouldn't let go.
And if you didn't want to get murdered by the press, if you didn't want to further sabotage both your own and Sunday's public image, you knew to take it.
You had no choice but to take it. You were no more than an insect trapped under his thumb.
-
out of the two of you, there was only one person that was particularly enthusiastic about having a child.
It certainly wasn't you.
Ever since you had first found out about the pregnancy, you had felt empty. As if someone directly sucked the soul out of your body.
You weren't yourself anymore. You hadn't been for a long time.
Sunday didn't seem too bothered by it though.
You weren't sure if it was just his own parental instincts, or whether he could tell that it was almost time for you go into labour. Maybe it was a combination of both. You didn't care. You couldn't care less.
All you knew was that his presence was suffocating. Overbearing. Invasive, even.
You couldn't do anything by yourself. Sunday felt the need to assist you with everything you did. Even basic tasks such as grabbing an object, he insisted that he would get for you.
But what set you off the most, was his intense urge to keep the house in order. You had never seen him having such intense urges to organize a room even when just the slightest thing was out of order. He couldn't stand seeing the slightest speck of dust, he couldn't stand seeing the furniture just an inch out of place.
It drove you to madness.
If you had even slightly misplaced something Sunday you would notice Sunday getting slightly agitated.
From the moment he came home, to the moment he would fall asleep, he spent every waking second making sure the house was perfectly in order, before obsessing over you. At some point you just wanted to wave him off. Lock yourself in the bathroom and sleep for a long period of time, until you had no concept of reality anymore.
You didn't have it in you to keep going. week after week, month after month, Sunday's final goal had always to perfect you into an obedient wife that would do as they were told. And no matter how you tried to fight it... you were always forced back into obedience.
There's two cold fingers touching your chin, and lifting your face up, until you're forced to meet a pair of eyes.
They're bright. Everytime you see them, you can't help but try to look away. They were as bright as the sun, and just like the sun, you felt as if you were going to be blinded jfyou looked at them for too long. You guess it could've also been a sentiment to the power he held over you too.
"Dear, did you hear a word I just said?"
It's an obvious answer. But, you know better by now just to answer the question. You slightly shake your head, which supposedly satisfied him enough, to let go of the fi gers holding your head up.
He sighs, you're not sure in annoyance or in disappointment.
"If you keep acting like this, I'm going to need to resort to drastic measures..."
You look at him one more time. You remember how when you first saw him, you thought of him to be beautiful. To be almost ethereal.
You regret falling into that hypnosis. You regret looking at him at all.
Look at where it got you.
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teddiesworldd · 2 months
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could you do a pt2 of the zombie outbreak with ghost, maybe the zombie outbreak ends and they get used to being a normal couple? idk
after the world ends (p2)
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this is part two of my ghost apocalypse au, you can read part one here!
a/n: thank you so much for all the love on part 1 and for this request which inspired part 2! i hope it's what you imagined <3 (1k words)
pairing: simon ghost riley x reader
tags/warnings: apocalypse au, fluffy, some descriptions similar to ptsd, starting a family, the ending they deserved ;')
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day 154 of the apocalypse, 5 months after the first outbreak, 2 months after the second.
time creeped on slowly as the days melted into weeks, and then months. you’d become quite accustomed to life behind the fence, picking up various skills to make yourself useful in camp. the others had taught you everything you needed to know. you could now fish, hunt, cook - survival was something that came so naturally now, it was like your life before never happened. like it had always been this way. on your trips out of camp with soap, you had noticed shoots of grass and leaves sprouted up through the concrete over time and covered your city in an overwhelming green haze. 
other than the odd trip outside the safety of the fence, your days were calm and laid back. you often spent them laying out by the river with simon, watching the water flow past in the warm spring air. more recently though, you’d looked after the german shepherd you had found with soap in the city, which you had lovingly named riley after your love. there was always plenty to do - things needed fixing up, whether that be the equipment or each other. 
in the evenings, you no longer watched soap and ghost talking from your tent - you sat alongside them at the campfire, simon’s large hand holding yours. you shared stories of your lives before the outbreak, dreaming of what you’d do when the world turned the right way around again - if that would ever happen. and when your conversations died down, simon led you to his bed and you spent the night with your head on his chest, listening to his faint heartbeat to drown out the sounds of the infected who got too close to the fence.
it wasn’t all smooth sailing; some of the others in camp had fallen sick and the nearest pharmacy was completely stripped by other groups, leaving nothing to treat your own wounded campmates. illness spread like wildfire here and all you could do was nurse their wounds and cook hot meals to lift their spirits and provide warmth. a few lost their lives to disease or to the zombies, but most fought on, struggling through the days.
you’ll never forget the moment when you heard about the cure. 
head resting on simon’s shoulder, swaying gently to the faint crackle of the radio. his hands gently gripping to your waist, holding you close like he never wanted to let you go. it was a routine that you both had for a few weeks now, after your first night together in the tent. rocking gently to the music as the sun glowed shades of pink and orange in the late evening. "my girl, i'll marry you when this is over." he'd tell you every time you held each other like this. simon had never felt so enamoured with someone in his whole life. he couldn't wait for the day you shared his last name. it was what kept him going through all this - the thought of living a normal life with you on the other side. soap sat nearby, cleaning up whatever he’d found during the day, cheesing over the action figures he found in the house he raided, watching as you and simon fell utterly in love with each other.
the music cut off and the announcer said that a cure had been developed to treat the infected. and suddenly you remembered everything that you had left behind 5 months ago.
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four years later, you sat out on the porch of your home with a cold drink, watching simon play with your daughter in the backyard. he proposed to you as soon as you heard the radio broadcast and you married shortly after normality returned, falling pregnant and buying a house together. it never really got any easier - cuts turned into scars and memories of your days in camp turned sour, plaguing your dreams. often you’d wake up in a cold sweat, fear running through you like you were still there. but simon never failed to bring you back to earth again, stroking your hair and shushing you to sleep again. soap visited often, riley always jumping up at him madly as he stumbled through the front door. your daughter had grown accustomed to calling him “uncle johnny”, which he loved and it made him well up the first time he heard her say it.
nothing would really be the same again - you had lost most of your friends and family, and the world never quite got back to the way it was before.
but in a way, that was okay. because so much good came from it. 
“mommy, look!” you daughter giggled madly from the bottom of the garden. you snapped out of your thoughts, eyes landing on your 4-year-old daughter who was halfway up the tree at the bottom of the lawn.
“i- i did try to tell ‘er not to,” simon sighed, walking up to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “but you know what she’s like... little adventurer.”
you couldn’t help but laugh. it definitely wasn’t the first time she’d gone up there - she climbed up it like she’d done it a thousand times before.
“reminds me of someone i know.” simon said, looking down at you in your chair, nothing but love in his eyes. he kissed you sweetly, reminding you of the first time your lips touched that night in your tent. 
“i’ll start making dinner, yeah?” he finished, hand gently squeezing your arm before heading into the kitchen. you really did get so lucky the day you crossed paths in the woodland.
“can someone help me down?!” your daughter shouted, riley barking up at her playfully as she clinged tightly to the branches.
“yeah, honey, i’m coming” you replied, placing down your drink and heading down the garden.
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dtfpeta · 10 months
Text
Feverish | Ghost x Fem Reader
Tags: sick!simon, sub!simon, dry humping, p in v sex, penetration
Summary: Simon is sick and thinks he knows how to break a fever with the help of his girlfriend
Word count: 1.4k
Read here on ao3! __________
He only had a small cold. Or at least, what was a small cold. And of course he acted like a helpless animal, asking you to feed him, bring him an assortment of medicines, and help him walk to the bathroom where he would then, ask you to bathe him. A cheeky smile that he hardly tried to hide displaying on his face.
You of course, didn’t mind caring for your afflicted boyfriend.
“You can’t take another Benadryl, Simon. You just had one.” Simon always prided himself on his flawless immune system. Now that his body has been compromised by harmful bacteria he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. But thank god he had you. For the past two days all he could do was mumble and groan from the couch. Exasperated “ehhgg’s” and whines of sickness filling the living room as the over 6 foot man struggled to lift his arms, begging for your help with the remote.
That’s why it surprised you to feel the searing warmth of his arms wrap around your waist as you stood in the kitchen. Your working hands coming to a stop on the meal you were preparing.
“Si- You’ve already contaminated our living room! I’ll be damned if I’m next…” You argued while attempting to shrug out of his grasp, finding your efforts ineffective. Over the past couple days you had made a valiant effort to sanitize the house and frequently wash your hands. You know Simon would take care of you if you fell sick, but you also knew that the idea of wallowing in the two of yous illness together was appealing to him as well.
“Mm, needa break this fever-” He murmured while burying his face into the crook of your neck. Laying hot kisses in his wake.
“Then let me make you a cup of tea. Or go take a warm shower don’t-!” His hands began to roam your body. Grasping at the skin of your stomach before moving to knead at your chest.
“Not what I had in mind” His words came out breathless. Whether that was because of his aroused state, his clogged sinuses, or both, you weren’t sure. But the needy grips his calloused hands laid on your body began to have an effect on you.
“You can go a few days can’t you?” Simon responded with an unconcerned hum, a low groan soon leaving the back of his throat as he grabbed your hips. Grinding his half hard erection against the flesh of your ass.
“You’ve been so good t’me. Can you help me some more?” His fingers dug deeper into your flesh, rutting the length of his bulge languidly against your backside. “Please.” He whined.
His hand came up to your neck, his index and thumb taking your chin and turning your face to meet his. It was too late to save yourself when his lips met yours, his tongue greedily working the wet room of your mouth as his hands massaged your breasts.
You sighed into the kiss, accepting the hunger that overtook you as well as the heat that gathered between your thighs. You soon gasped into Simon’s embrace as he was now turning you to face him, one hand resting on the back of your thigh as the other moved behind you. Haphazardly pushing the cutting board to the side so he could swiftly lift to place you on top of the counter. The cold stone of the counter caused you to arch your back as you pushed your chest into Simon, who now hurried to remove your top and bra. Exposing your hard nipples to the cold of the air that had previously worked to cool Simon’s fever, which only proved to be a futile attempt as the crimson on his cheeks only grew.
Simon pulled your waist so his erection could meet your clothed core. His eyes hung low with a fevered lust as you moved your hips to work against him. The both of you moaning as Simon hung his head forward between your chest, releasing sinful whimpers as he urgently rutted into you.
“Need ya’. Now” He demanded. Your brain began to cloud with its own brand of Simon induced fog. He was so desperate that you only wanted to provide for him.
Your boyfriend hooked his fingers around the waistband of your shorts pulling them down alongside your damp underwear to your ankles. Kicking them to the floor as he lowered his boxers and sweatpants, Simon revealed his hard cock, the tip smeared with a bead of pre-cum that you reached to run your fingers against.
He shuddered at the sudden attention from your delicate touch. His body was practically on fire. Having to separate himself from you only caused him to become pent up, needy for any attention that you would provide his weeping cock. Your hand wrapped around his length as you stroked him with expertise. Heavy breaths flooded the room. He placed his hands on the edge of the counter to steady himself as you worked his shaft. Your left hand came to cradle the side of his face. ‘Poor thing’
You twisted your hand around him, your thumb swirling the sensitive skin of his head as you whispered in his ear. “Is this helping you hun?”
His head nodded fiercely against your neck. “Mmm Mhm, thank you-” His delicious whines filled your ears as he began to lightly shake. Your own sex was becoming neglected when your left hand lifted his face so his eyes could meet yours.
“Can I fuck you,” he near but begged. “I can take care of you too.” His lips connected with yours for a passionate kiss. Butterflies spread in the pit of your stomach at his adoration for you. It wasn’t often he got like this but when he did you happily let him succumb to his urges. He parted his mouth from yours, a string of saliva connecting to your now glossy lips, and Simon still pumping himself into your hand. “Make you feel good.” He enticed.
You nodded your head when he took the head of his cock to swipe between your folds. Circling the slickened tip around your swollen clit and dragging it back in between your folds. His hands came to rest softly against your lower waist, thumbs digging into the crest between your thighs and torso. He began to push his length into your hot walls, his eyes closing to keep him from cumming right then and there.
“F-fuck” He sputtered pushing himself deeper into your core.
“Simon, please” Your legs lifted to wrap your calfs around his back. Your heels now digging into his ass to encourage his strokes. Simon got the message and pushed the rest of his cock into your begging cunt. Engulfing him with a boiling heat as you began adjusting to his size. He began to move in and out of you. His eyes locked to yours as he provided your pussy with slow, hard thrusts.
Each slap of his skin against yours elicited a moan from your lips that he returned with animalistic grunts of his own. 2 days too many away from your perfect cunt, and he was never a man of patience.
Your pussy squelched as he dragged the full length of his cock out of you before bottoming out again. His hand moved to the back of your head, bringing you in for a messy kiss while the other moved to your clit. Simon was amazed he had even lasted this long and as his orgasm began to approach its horizon he worked to bring yours to as well. You gasped into the kiss. His hand quickening its assault as his thrusts entered you at a new angle. Simon pistoning his cock against the patch of nerves that lay within your walls, your hold on him beginning to tighten as he talked you through your imminent climax.
“Cum on my cock pretty girl. I know you need it. I need it.” His words came out in a gravel like tone. He couldn’t hold it in any longer when your cunt began to spasm around his shaft, milking his own release from him as the coil in your stomach snapped. You threw your head back, your mouth falling agape as Simon growled against your neck. His hot seed filled you with a satiating intensity.
“So,” your breathing now labored, “So good Si.” Your hand came to massage the back of scalp as he littered your neck with kisses.
It wouldn’t be until another 2 days when he denied his involvement in your oncoming fever. His own having been broken when he suggested a new at home remedy to cure you.
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yanderenightmare · 5 months
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who's the worst bnha yandere? in your opinion
Shigaraki Tomura x darling
TW: NSFW, noncon/dubcon, f!reader, Shiggy being gross
fem reader
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It’s easily Tomura.
Tomura because he doesn’t care about the most basic of human needs. 
Forgets to feed you. And when he does – it’s always some half-eaten burger, sub or burrito. He doesn’t give two shit if you’re vegan or vegetarian. Shit – he doesn’t even care if you’re allergic. If you don’t want it, you can starve.
Doesn’t give you clothes. He rarely bothers getting himself new clothes, do you think he’s gonna do you any better? No. Wear his dandruff-riddled, old-sweat-seeped hoodie – or wear nothing.
Something else you miss is proper housing – even if it’s just a room with a bed and a toilet. You’ve learned that even that is too much to ask for.
You never stay in the same place for long – needing to switch bases regularly in order to remain low. Never anything he’ll have to pay for, of course – a pick of the litter abandoned office buildings, hotels, and empty homes. 
If you’re lucky enough to find a place with running water, you stay longer. If not, you’ll have to make do for a couple of days – worst case was a little over a week. You still shudder thinking about it. 
He’ll keep you in any room he can lock from the outside – only sometimes blessing you with an actual mattress and not some old moldy sofa or a thin blanket on cold floors.
One time, you stayed in some old mansion one of the league members had found. You suspect they killed whoever lived there before – seeing as the entire house was properly furnished and clean when you all infested the place. 
Not that you got to explore much – Tomura kept you locked in the master bedroom on the third floor – the one where you most definitely would have broken both legs if you tried escaping through the window.
It had been one of the nicer places. One with working hot water and clothes for you to change into – albeit shamefully, sending prayer and thanks to the owner who was no doubt dead and rotting. You were even able to find a stockpile of fresh towels and linens you changed after a week had gone by.
But as the weeks turned to more weeks, they’d all run out – and you began hoping you’d move on to the next place soon. Even with the risk of it being someplace cold and dusty, it would still be a fresher slate.
The nice mansion had gone bad after a month or so – you’d lost track of time. 
Thankfully, you’d been able to air out the dank smell of armpit, ass, and feet – and were allowed to take a shower whenever you weren’t handcuffed to the bed – often able to lure Tomura to join you if only for the sake of washing the stench of decay, dandruff and dickcheese off him. 
But even so, Tomura isn't the most hygienic type. Managing keeping him halfway decent was troubling enough. 
It’s way tougher to keep the room tidy with Tomura’s ill habits of keeping half-eaten food lying around – empty cup noodles and other street junk, beer bottles, and sour energy drinks – along with bloody piles of worn-out clothes, dirty holey underwear, and soggy condoms.
You were driven to the point of disgust that you’d asked him whether he could do you the simple favor of finding and bringing you the house cleaning supplies so you could wash the place yourself.
Oh… how funny he’d found that little comment... 
“Too filthy in ‘ere for yah, is it? Too gross for the pretty princess?”
It hadn’t been the first time he’d made you lick the floor. Face down, ass up – with his bare foot placed heavy and clammy against your teary cheek – two of his fingers stuffing your cunt, and the other two inside your ass – while he sits at the edge of the bed, spitefully stroking his hard dick to the degrading view.
“Tch – such a filthy bitch, and you complain about the scenery?” He sneers – pumping both your holes. “Didn’t know I was fuckin’ such a spoiled cunt.”
You cry at the crass stretch his digits make – but you know better than to fight him when he’s pissed. You only regret forgetting how it’s never been a good idea for you to do much of anything other than nod your head and smile pliantly – open your mouth wide for his tongue, spit, cock, and cum or otherwise keep it shut.
Per request, you keep it open wide, tongue out on the hardwood floor – tasting the grouts of lint and dirt and God knows what – stale and salty on your tastebuds. Or maybe it was the tears gushing from your eyes – soaking your face where you sobbed.
“Tch – shut up.” A hand replaces the foot on your face – dragging you up with a fist in your hair. Pulling his fingers from your holes with a sloppy shlick – before promptly pushing all four digits inside your mouth. “If you wanna clean somethin’ – you can start with this slutty mess.”
You gag at the threat as he shoves all but his thumb down your throat – wiping off your slick, then giving your face a mean slap with the same, now spit-coated, hand – before pulling you up from the floor by your hair and ushering you onto his lap to straddle him.
He wipes the rest of your drool off on his erect cock – standing proudly with a thick flow of creamy pre leaking from his slit.
He doesn’t waste much time before lining up with your puffy pussy-lipped hole and making you sink down on him.
You croak at him going in raw – always feeling extra violated without the thin rubber protecting you from catching his germs as he pushes all his veiny girth inside you until giving your womb a cummy kiss. 
“What’s the problem, slut? Don’t like riding dirty dick?” He huffs, starting to rut against you in no clean tempo. He snickers at your grimace, still holding your hair in a tight pull as he angles your face to his to kiss your tight-lined lips – feeling you cringe even more. “Don’t worry. I’ll let you clean it after I fill this and the other hole up with filth.”
You whimper at the dark promise – and he wipes his tongue across your sorry expression from chin to temple.
“I’ll do you up nice and nasty – so you won’t feel so out of place anymore~”
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shooting-love-arrows · 6 months
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Your aesthetic is just so beautiful dear!! i love how you organize everything, how pretty you write !!
Can i request maybe a yan! mortician? I don't really know the word in english waaa (⁠´⁠;⁠︵⁠;⁠`⁠)
kisses. mwah mwah take care of yourself ok?? 🎐
Dear Anon,
Thank you, dear. It’s really nice of you to say. Your english is very good so no need to worry. Sending you lots of kisses and thank you for the patience.  P.S I’m reminding myself to drink water regularly :)
@shooting-love-arrows
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍! 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍
PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 x reader [gender not mentioned/specified/implied] SYNOPSIS: General headcanons/some concerning habits of his. Tw. yandere walking red flag, creepy yandere, intentional poisoning, delusion, attachment issues (?), nudity but not nsfw. 
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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Who treats you like a corpse rather than a living, breathing, human being. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 is so used to being surrounded by dead that sometimes he forgets you are in fact alive. It shows during those moments when he starts doing most simple things for you, like dressing you up before you wake up; when you stay still for to long, he’ll carry you around bridal style because he forgets that you can move on your own or forgets to prepare you a portion of food, because corpses don’t eat. Those moments scares you the most, because you’re never sure if he snaps out of it.
“Hm…? Oh dear…” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 muttered and tilted his head when he realized he’s been carrying you around the funeral parlor for a while. “It seems like I have done that again.” Not that he was complaining. After all, he’s got to hold you in his arms.
Who regularly poisons you. He adds small doses of the earlier crushed pills he originally brought in the pharmacy to your food. Just enough to make you sick, weak and confused. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 feels his heart squeezing painfully everytime time he sees you in this state but at the same time, he believes that what he's doing is for a good cause. You must stay in the house. It’s not safe in the stress! Not to mention those people who could harm you (or worse, take you away from him!). This just can’t and won’t happen. He’d rather be the one to bring harm to you and nurse you back to health. Your place is here, in your shared house, with him.
“It seems like you are ill again, sweetling. Lay down, you need rest.” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 proceeds to tuck you in and kiss your sweaty forehead lovingly. “Let me take care of you, sweetling. I will make everything better.” He whispered into your skin decorated with glistening pearls of sweat, smiling softly. 
Who always has to carry a piece of you on him. He just can’t part with you. Be it before or after you’re officially his. He has a silver locket with a coil of your hair in it, a ribbon that fell out of your outfit tied around his wrist or a photo of you (especially the one he took of you). Those are few examples but anything that belongs to you he’ll gladly take to carry around. This way you can always be with him.
“What beautiful hair you have, sweetling.” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 laughed in glee. He was in his funeral parole, staring at the coil of your hair he secretly snipped off when you were asleep. It was placed neatly in a pure silver locker he always carried around his neck. “The prettiest.”
Who has a habit of photographing your nude body. It depends on his mood whether it’ll turn sexual or not, but what doesn’t change is that he’s always in awe of your body. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 saw many naked bodies, more or less beautiful. But you…you are perfect in every way. He feels like it’s his obligation to document that beauty. So usually, you’ll find yourself lying in the coffin panelled with silk, naked as the day you were born. And so the photo session continues. And when he’s done…? 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 will lean over you, looming like a grim reaper ready to whisk you away into the underworld, and whisper sweet nothings, prizes and compliments to you while his eyes admire every inch of your body.
“Keep still, sweetling.” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 adjusted his trusty camera so it’ll focus on you.  You kept shivering from the cold that keeps nipping at your skin. Not even the silk you were laying upon helped to ease your worries and shame for you had no choice but to be vulnerable and exposed towards your captor.  “Perfect. Close your eyes and stay in this position.”
Who kisses the spot on your chest where your heart beats. It happens first thing in the morning and the last thing at night. When you’re laying in bed, in your nightclothes, he’ll lower the front of yours and gently place a kiss above your heart. He imagines that it’s his way of pouring his undying love straight into your heart. It always sends a pleasurable shiver down his spine.
“I was born to love you…” kiss “I am breathing for you…” kiss “I am living for you…” kiss 
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I COULD KISS YOU — GREG HOUSE
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masterlist
pairing: greg house x reader
description: when an offhand comment to praise house for helping you diagnose a patient leads to the silent treatment, you’re both forced to confront the feelings that had been lingering unspoken for too long.
warnings: swearing, angst to a teeny bit of fluff, may be a lil ooc as i’m still iffy on fleshing out how i write the house characters but i’m trying <3
author’s note: had this idea and got excited so bashed it out quite quickly while i was motivated af — hopefully you enjoy !!! let me know what you think
“Gregory House, you bloody genius,” you exclaimed, clenching your fists in excitement, unable to stop the words that came flying out next, “I could kiss you!”
You’d been trying to diagnose your patient for nigh on a week now, and with the young boy’s symptoms rapidly progressing and his condition rapidly worsening, House’s diagnostic expertise provided exactly the breakthrough you needed.
You were ecstatic — mentally piecing together just how he had to be correct — and so without another word you practically skipped out of his office to run some tests and reach the certainty needed to treat the boy as soon as possible.
What House had suggested made perfect sense, accounting for every symptom and every adverse reaction to the treatments you had tried so far, and though you usually mocked his tendency to always smugly assume he was right, at present you were immeasurably grateful for his input.
You were disappointed, then, when you rushed to tell him that the young boy was responding incredibly well to the treatment he suggested and he simply gave you his smug “I-told-you-so” smile and rushed away from you.
He didn’t speak to you again for the rest of the day, choosing instead to actually take time to visit his patients rather than deal with encountering you again.
“What did I do to piss House off?” you asked Cameron, Foreman and Chase shyly as you stood near the nurse’s station with them.
They all just eyed you like the answer was obvious, but Chase shrugged, “When has anyone ever needed to actually do something to piss him off?”
“No, he won’t even talk to me right now,” you frowned, brows furrowed, “It’s weird. I don’t know what I’ve done wrong since this morning.”
The group all looked between eachother, as though deciding who would be the one to have to tell you the honest truth.
“Probably something to do with your little ‘I could kiss you’,” Chase replied, doing a terrible impersonation of you and batting his eyelids flirtatiously as he quoted you, “He didn’t seem to like that very much.”
Your mouth was parted in confusion, “Firstly, I do not sound like that. But secondly, why would he give me the silent treatment for that? Is the idea of kissing me that repulsive?”
Cameron scoffed, rolling her eyes, “You’re both as oblivious as each other, Y/N… He’s ignoring you for literally the opposite reason.”
You shook your head in disbelief.
Was she seriously trying to tell you that House was ignoring you because he didn’t like you joking about kissing him?
“Don’t be ridiculous!”
“It’s literally painfully obvious, Y/N,” Foreman groaned, “You’ve had this weird sexual tension going on forever and given that he’s usually bad at giving a damn about people, he gets weird about you. And he obviously has feelings for you, so it rubbed him up the wrong way.”
Chase chuckled, “They’re right. He’s only mad at you because you’re the only person he’s never mad at but you hurt the feelings he apparently has.”
You pondered what he was saying for a moment, trying to piece together whether there was any semblance of truth behind their explanation for House’s weird behaviour.
Truth be told, it was the exact kind of petty and ill-fitting behaviour you’d expect from House.
For such a brilliant man, he could be utterly childish at times, especially if he wasn’t getting his way.
Your relationship had always teetered on the edge of professionalism — he was always making flirtatious comments, he always took your suggestions on board more than the others, always sung your praises to your peers and superiors.
Whilst everyone else was certain it was proof of his feelings for you, you had just thought he appreciated that you never pried into his life unless he offered to divulge information himself, and you were excellent at your job.
Of course, you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed your ambiguous relationship, given the crush you had harboured since very early on in your acquaintance. That’s why you always flirted back, always made sure your input was carefully though out, and why you were always singing his praises too.
But it was Greg House — a man who so famously behaved as though he didn’t care about anyone. So of course you didn’t think that things would ever progress past your unprofessional professional relationship.
“Where is he?”
“In his office,” Cameron smiled, “He told me to make sure nobody bothered him, and I think he meant you because he’s still throwing his toys out of the pram.”
You rolled your eyes with a laugh, “God, he’s ridiculous. I’m going to go and talk to him. Or try, anyway. Wish me luck.”
“Is this House we’re talking about?” Dr. James Wilson made an appearance at your side now, his brow quirked in curiosity as he butted into the conversation.
You nodded, “He’s being a baby instead of actually talking to me about why he’s mad.”
You hoped he’d have some kind of more concrete explanation, given that he was the only person House was even remotely honest around.
“He’s hardly an expert at talking about his feelings, is he? Or having them, actually,” Wilson chuckled, “But he’s been grumbling all day. Please do go and speak to him. For my sanity’s sake, if not your relationship’s.”
“Slow down, Wilson,” you scoffed, but though you didn’t want to get ahead of yourself, you couldn’t deny the fluttering in your stomach at any sort of reference to you and House’s potential relationship, “I’m going!”
You entered the room without even knocking, folding your arms over your chest with a stern expression on your features as you strode towards his desk and stood firmly in front of him.
“I’m busy.”
“Busy being petty and ignoring me?”
He looked up now, narrowing his eyes as he realised you were not going to meekly scuttle away like you had done every other time he’d dismissed you today.
“What makes you think that?” sarcasm dripped from his words, “I just so enjoy spending time getting to know my patients and doing paperwork!”
You huffed out a sigh, frustrated by him already trying to dodge the subject, “Greg.”
“Y/N.”
“Greg!”
“Y/N!” he matched your tone just to challenge you, and you scoffed, “Are you really going to be like this?”
“Like what?”
“So deliberately evasive?”
His lips drew together in a thin line as he eyed you carefully, “How’s your little boy from this morning?”
“You are so fucking frustrating, Greg,” you scowled, “Can we have an adult conversation here?”
He appeared to ponder over another joke to make, but apparently for the first time in his life thought better, as he remained silent and waited for you to continue.
“I’ve been so stressed out about that kid, and you helped me to help him massively — he’s likely to be discharged by tomorrow. I was so happy, so relieved, and I said I could kiss you,” you began, avoiding his gaze at first until your final sentence, “And it was a silly offhanded comment about how grateful I was, but at the same time I honestly could’ve kissed you because I quite honestly want to a lot of the time.”
Oh my God — you’d stunned the Greg House into silence?
Your breathing was jagged, “I don’t know if you’re just being an ass because you don’t like being on the other end of jokes, or if the team actually aren’t just blind hopeless romantics and you actually care about me. But I just wish you’d talk to me instead of doing all this and making me feel like you don’t care at all.”
He pulled himself up onto his feet, grabbing his cane to lean on as he inched closer to you.
“It’s a bit of both,” his voice was low, and you were sure that if you didn’t know him better you might believe him to be shy about telling you the truth, “I’m not good at caring, and I don’t usually like caring, but I guess I do. Sue me!”
You took another step forward, so that you were so close you were breathing right in each other’s faces.
You were trying to be brave and command the conversation, but your stomach was doing backflips as it dawned on you that what he meant was that he really did feel the same about you.
“Why would you go silent on me then instead of talking to me about it?” you bit your lip as you spoke, and caught notice of how his eyes trailed to your lips as you did so.
He swallowed thickly, “Didn’t feel right to. Hardly professional, is it?”
“Oh, because you’re the picture of professionalism usually aren’t you?” you laughed dryly.
“Point taken,” he shrugged, “Maybe I was little scared. And we’ve got a good thing going, it’s a risk pushing things any further.”
You weren’t happy with that, not when this was Greg House — king of taking risks and breaking rules — and you were certain that it was a risk worth taking anyway.
“When has risk ever stopped you?” you asked, whispering now as your eyes darted between his and his lips whilst he mirrored your behaviour.
“Point also taken,” he mumbled, before finally taking the plunge and bringing his lips to yours in a heated kiss that you leaned into immediately.
He quickly leaned back to sit on the edge of his desk, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you to stand between his parted legs.
You pulled back, suddenly aware that anyone could come in at this moment and see you — and whilst the biggest risk here really was endless teasing from the team or a scolding from Cuddy, you did still have some things to discuss too.
You didn’t want to ruin the moment, overcome with giddiness at what had just happened, but you wanted to make your feelings clear; Even if it was to a man who would probably make a jokey remark and underplay his own feelings.
“I don’t know your relationship history, and I don’t care to,” you shrugged, moving your hands to your hips but hardly moving away from him, “Well, I’m not rushing to. I can assume it’s not great, but I just want to take every day as it comes and see where things go because mine isn’t great either. I’m not gonna hurt you, Greg.”
The sincerity in his eyes as he gazed up at you made your heart melt, and you could tell that somehow, some way, you had gotten through to him.
“Don’t make promises you can’t be certain that you’ll keep, Y/N,” he mumbled, before shaking off his own words and standing back up to stare into your eyes intently, “But fine. Because it’s you, I’m willing to try. Provided there’s more of this,” he kissed you again before continuing, “And less of them ogling and concocting their little romantic stories about the lovely doctor Y/N and her damaged old fool.”
You turned around to see the entire team peering through the window, all smiles and whispered chatter at the sight before them.
You raised your middle finger to them, turning back to look at House and stepping back a little from him.
“Unfortunately, those nosey fuckers are not going anywhere,” you rolled your eyes, “If you’re willing to try then we’re going for dinner. Tonight. And we’re going to have a good time, and not talk about this place or about anything you don’t want to.”
He nodded, “I’ll pretend I’m not furious you’ve robbed me of making the grand romantic gesture of being the one to ask,” he cocked his head as he joked, truthfully very much pleased you were the one to ask and confirm that your interest in him was genuine, “But sounds good to me. I’ll wear my nicest tux, eh.”
“Yeah, yeah, ha ha,” you hummed, “Now I’ve got a living patient to go and visit thanks to you. Enjoy your afternoon with that lot,” you gestured to your friends, who were all still stood there watching you, “Good luck. Oh, and pick somewhere to book for us to eat. That can be your grand romantic gesture, hm.”
“Gee, thanks,” he laughed, shaking his head, “I’ll see you later.”
“See you later,” you grinned, swanning out of his office with the biggest smile possible painting your features.
You nudged past your friends as they watched you walk down the corridor, happier than they had probably ever seen you in the time that you’d known them.
They immediately filed into House’s office when you were out of sight, and his head fell back in irritation for a moment despite the smile still gracing his lips.
“Things went well, then?”
“Go away,” he replied, “I’m in a good mood for once, and you idiots aren’t going to ruin that, alright?”
“Woah, okay,” Foreman laughed, “Who are you and what has Y/N done with Greg House?”
———
thanks for reading !!! i hope enjoyed and this wasn’t too ooc lol. let me know what you though pleaaase & if you’d like — feel free to request!
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blackleatherjacketz · 4 months
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All Better
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Eric Northman x Female Reader
Summary: You miss a meeting because you're sick, and Eric makes a house call to make you feel better.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Eric being Eric, Strep Throat, Antibiotics, Shoving, Blaming, Kissing, Glamoring, Hypnotizing, Manipulation, Power Imbalance, Healing Vampire Blood, Blood Drinking, Biting, Vampirism, Nipple Play, Licking, Cunnilingus, Female Orgasm
Read more Eric!
“You don’t look very good.” Eric states the obvious as his brows knit together in a look of, wait a minute, is that… concern that you’re seeing on his face? It must be the medication you’re on that’s blurring your vision and dulling your senses, because you’re pretty sure that ‘concern’ isn’t in Eric Northman’s emotional repertoire. “What’s wrong with you?”
It isn’t until he pushes you up against the wall, staring at your pale face as beads of sweat run down your temples that he understands why you didn’t show up to Fangtasia tonight or bother answering your phone when he called. The realization of your illness slowly melts that concerned look of his into a stoic expression of understanding, allowing his pupils to expand just the slightest bit before his lips part in silence.
“I’m just sick, it’s nothing.” You try to look away from him, tempted to fall back into your old habit of isolating yourself when falling ill, only he grabs hold of your chin to prevent that from happening.
“Sick, how?” That sense of understanding gets washed away in a flash, his brief display of genuine emotion quickly covered up by his usual curt and cutting tone.
“It’s just an infection, I know I should have called, I just didn’t think you’d…”
“Didn’t think I’d what?” He tightens his grip on your chin, bringing his face closer to yours. “Didn’t think I’d notice that my favorite human wasn’t there to greet me tonight?”
Favorite human? Did you hear that right? You can’t help but raise your eyebrows in surprise as he admits it out loud, albeit through gritted teeth.
“I was too weak to drive out there, I…” You mutter as his cool grip on your face chills you even more, forcing your body to shiver in its febrile state.
“Then let me heal you.” He offers, his eyes scanning over your shaking form before he brings his wrist up to his mouth.
“What?” Your arrangement with Eric has always been very simple; you show up once a week to let him feed on you and he pays you enough money to cover your mortgage each month. It had never been more than that though, never crossed any other carnal line despite your secret desire for more intimacy with him. He had never once offered you his own blood before, and the idea of it still kind of scares you, if you’re being honest with yourself. “Heal me?”
“So you won’t be sick anymore.” He loosens his grip on your face, his hand falling loosely around your neck.
“I’m on antibiotics, Eric, I don’t need your blood.” You attempt to walk away from him but he places his palm flat across your chest, forcing you back into position against the wall. Even his restrained amount of strength is too much for your weakened muscles to withstand as you wince in pain.
“Let me heal you.” He stares into your eyes, accessing your subconscious mind as you can’t help but stare right back, too tired to put up any sort of emotional barrier between the two of you. You’ve seen him do this to others before, convincing them to do whatever he wanted, whether that be to pay him back, run away or even kill someone for him. You just never thought he’d do it to you.
“Okay,” You hear yourself whisper almost immediately before taking his hand and leading him to the couch at the far end of your living room. You watch him sit down as if he’s already been there dozens of times before, as if he’s lived there with you already, as if he owns the place. You feel him pull you onto his lap, guiding your hips and thighs so that you’re now straddling him in the middle of your couch as his hands carefully smooth their way up your back.
“You’re shivering.” He grins as you settle into him, your pelvis slowly rocking against his hips as his hands find their way into your hair. “I can fix that.”
“Yeah?” As scary as the idea of drinking his blood is, the thought of letting this feverish hell continue any longer seems way worse.
“Let me take care of you.” Eric fumbles through the random items on the side table closest to him until he finds something sharp at his disposal: a ball point pen. He pushes the cap off with his thumb, smiles up at you before jabbing the pen into his neck so quickly, you barely have a chance to register what’s happening before he pulls you in closer. “Now, drink.”
You gasp as your heart races in a confused sense of horror, watching droplets of his blood ooze out of his wound and down the porcelain skin of his neck. Your lips begin to tremble as his fingers weave their way into your hair, pushing your mouth in closer to his throat as you attempt to fight your body’s natural panic response.
“Drink.” He instructs again, only this time more sternly.
Having no other choice but to do as you’re told, you open your mouth and lick the droplets of blood from his neck as he continues to hold you in place. It tastes a little better than you thought it would, a sort of salty mixture with hints of iron and blackberry wine that leaves a surprisingly pleasant aftertaste on the back of your tongue. Kind of like a rich Cabernet.
Well, that’s not so bad, now is it?
You open up again and start down at his clavicle this time, making sure to clean up any remnants of the fluid until you get all the way up to the puncture site, greedily suckling straight from the source. You can hear him moan as you lap him up, feel his grip on your hair tighten as you consume him, getting lost in the closeness of your bodies and the binding of your fluids. You’re sure that he can hear your heart beating wildly inside your chest, thumping hard against his as you wrap your arms around his torso to get even closer to him. You can feel his blood working inside you, healing you on a cellular level; each vampiric red blood cell eradicating any bacteria into oblivion as the weakness leaves your muscles and the pain dissipates from your throat.
“Enough,” he whispers reluctantly, now having to pull your mouth off him. “That’s enough, sweetheart.”
His words barely bring you out of your trance, his salty flesh no longer beneath your tongue as he tugs on your scalp to get you to finally stop drinking. It’s almost as if you’ve been brought back to reality after having one of the most intense dreams you’ve ever had as you watch his wound heal just as quickly as he had made it. You’ll never get used to that.
“It worked.” You exclaim gratefully. “I feel better!”
“I told you.” Eric grins as he runs his thumb across your bottom lip, reminding you that you’ve made quite the mess of yourself. “This is why you have to let me take care of you.”
“I’m not very good at that.” You’ve always had to take care of yourself in the past. One lesson that life has taught you time and time again is that the second you start depending on someone is the very moment that you’ll be disappointed.
“I know, but you have to let me do it anyway.” His eyelids drop halfway down as he looks at you longingly, gazing upon you in a way that you’ve never noticed before.
Maybe it’s that look, or maybe it’s the high of his blood now coursing through your veins that makes you suddenly feel compelled to press your lips against his, letting that vampiric confidence guide your actions. You keep them there for a few seconds, realizing that he isn’t pulling away from you, but instead is kissing you back with just as much enthusiasm as he pulls tighter on your scalp.
You’ve always wanted to kiss him, from the very first moment that you saw him. But something about him told you that he had women throwing themselves at his feet left and right; and you didn’t want to be like one of them. You were just grateful for the little contact you got when he fed upon you each week. You relished every caress of your cheek, every squeeze of your waist that sent shivers down your spine before he ended up drinking his fill. You never thought that he’d be interested in you like this, that he’d actually want you in that type of way at all.
However, his tongue now parts your lips as his kiss intensifies, all but moaning the truth into your mouth as if he’s been waiting just as long to finally taste your lips. His kiss is desperate and sloppy, so different from the perfectly put together business man you first met that night at the bar. His composure casually crumbles to pieces as his hands travel all over your body, frantically grasping onto your muscles until they find themselves in your hair again, his lips curling into a deviously satisfied smirk.
You feel him grow beneath his jeans, his clothed member now brushing against the thin fabric of your underwear as his hips needily writhe against your junction. His deliberate movements trigger that moisture to collect between your thighs as he continues his rhythm upward with several shallow breaths. Now stained in his own blood, his mouth ventures over every inch of your lips and chin before moving down to your jawline, licking a trail alongside your pulse.
You whimper in response, grinding your needy center against him as you brace yourself for the bite that never comes. Instead he lifts your shirt up over your head, exposing your bare breasts to the cool temperature of the room as your nipples harden in front of his face.
“You’ve been holding out on me.” He teases, letting go of the rest of you so he can graze his palms across them, sending a much more intense tingling sensation down your spine.
“I didn’t know that you wanted to…” Your breath hitches as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking hard before wrapping his arms behind you and turning you on your back. He keeps contact with your skin the entire time, pulling on your sensitive tissue as he looks up at you with those eyes again, dragging your tender bud in between his teeth.
“Really?” He laughs with a smirk. He moves on to the next one before popping it into his mouth while pinching the other, sending a barrage of little fireworks into your skin. “You think I make feeding contracts lightly?”
“No, I uhh…” Your back arches toward the ceiling as he sucks bursts of delight into your tissues, humming a sweet vibration against your skin as you all but melt beneath him. Pleasure being the last sensation you expect to get from Eric’s mouth, you can’t help but feel a little breathless as his fingers simultaneously tug your underwear down your hips as they instinctively lift off the couch cushion to aid in their removal. “It’s hard for me to tell sometimes.”
“You thought I didn’t want you?” He licks a languid path down your quaking abdomen as your muscles contract in hurried anticipation, beads of sweat popping up in his wake. He circles around your navel with his tongue, kissing a hungry trail down your pelvis while his hands help slide your panties off your calves and feet. He smiles and spreads your thighs as far apart as they can go, straining your muscles as he stares at you like a jungle cat would its prey before it pounces. “Looks like I could be a better communicator.”
His fangs drop and his eyes darken, wasting no time in settling between your thighs to take the bite you were wondering would ever come at all. Instead of sinking his fangs into your femoral artery to get the most blood in the least amount of time, though, he bites you just above your swollen center. He laughs as you yelp from the piercing pain, letting that red hot fluid spill down your already dripping wet seam before he dives in to finally taste it.
That cold, blood-thirsty vampire that you’ve known for the past few weeks finally comes out as he starts licking streaks of crimson up and down your puffy lips, spreading the blood and gore into your folds as his tongue delivers that tantalizing balance of pain and pleasure that you’ve only read about in books. He growls like the creature of the night that he is as he devours you, snaking his arms beneath your thighs to pull you in even closer as his mouth delves into your flesh. Unable to be sated, he flicks his tongue up and down your sensitive clit, sending signals of ecstasy up through your spine and into your brain as your eyes flutter with visions of shapes and colors you never knew existed.
Maybe it’s the vampire blood pumping through your veins for the very first time, or maybe it’s Eric’s skilled mouth that forces your eyes to roll back into your head. The way he keeps eating and drinking makes it feel as if each and every tiny hair on your skin is now alive, standing on end waiting for him to touch them, to give them permission to explode until your entire body begins to shake. You reach out for him in vain as the otherworldly sense of euphoria washes over you, forcing every muscle in your body to convulse in rhythmic waves as he relentlessly drinks from your bloody cunt. He glances up at you only to grin as your skin changes color, warming and cooling in phases as your orgasm violently works its way through your skin and bones and finally out of your mouth.
“Eric!” You cry out as he finally pulls back from you, licking his lips as you rattle and hum in the crimson mess he’s made of you. “Oh my God, Eric!”
“See?” He smirks as he watches you come down from your hormonal high, running your hands through his hair as he finally gives your bloody center one last lick. “All better.”
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mrsjellymunson · 3 months
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KNOCK AT THE CABIN | Prologue
Written for @bettyfrommars, @allthingsjoeq and @somnambulic-thing’s Stranger Prompts, Prompt 1. He shows up at your house covered in mud in the rain, but the problem is, he died two months ago.
Series Summary: After the events of the previous months, everyone is shocked by the unexpected return of an old friend. But is it really him?
Chapter Summary: On a stormy night, an unexpected visitor arrives.
WC: 1.14k
Series C/W: 🔞 18+, MDNI, NSFW. I mean it, if you’re under 18, git! Post-S4, Upside Down exists, dark/supernatural themes. Eventual Eddie Munson x fem!reader smut. Swearing. Not much to caution about in this part, unless you don’t like rain, or bad decor.
A/N: This series contains a lot of things I haven’t written for before, so I’d love to know what you think! Please comment and reblog, it means the world to writers, and reblogs mean work gets seen. This series has a taglist so if you’d like to be on either it, or my general list, lemme know in a comment, ask or message 🙏💗
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You’re holed up in an old farmhouse on the outskirts of Hawkins. It’s not exactly remote, but the nearest building is little more than a speck on the horizon so you feel pretty isolated. Owens organised it, explaining it would be a good idea for the older members of the party to lay low for a little while. Nancy had put forward an excellent argument for remaining with her family, but you, Robin and Steve had reluctantly packed up some of your belongings and relocated here. For how long, you don’t know.
It’s no palace. The wood-built building is certainly past its best, the yellowing 50s kitchen barely functional and the faded decor not to anyone's taste. But it’s (mostly) warm, (usually) dry, and most importantly, it feels safe. Which is something you all need after the events of the past few months.
You’re all acutely aware of the obvious gap in your merry band. Owens had insisted that the three of you didn’t attend the funeral, but he’d involved you as much as he could, ferrying messages between you and the kids and Wayne, discussing what he would’ve wanted to wear (you all agreed on his spare Hellfire shirt and leather jacket, knowing he’d never want to be separated from either, plus a brand new, government-funded pair of black 501s), and sneaking mementoes to you with Wayne’s approval.
Mike and Will have taken charge of his D&D paraphernalia, Dustin got his wallet chain (and wears it with literally everything, even his Weird Al shirts and colourful shorts), and Lucas opted for a small pocket knife. You, Steve and Robin each have one of his rings. Steve and Robin keep theirs in their rooms, but you wear the silver skull every day. It’s too big for your fingers, and is even a little loose on your thumb, but that’s where you keep it, spinning it to ease your anxiety, and smoothing the pads of your fingers over its bumpy surface to remind you of the friend you’ve lost. Rueing the fact that you always wanted him to be more than that, but never had the chance to find out whether he felt the same.
The kids visit periodically, even staying over sometimes, nobody expecting anyone to be watching the comings and goings of a bunch of nerdy teens. Nancy drops them off, sometimes staying, sometimes not. On this occasion she’d dropped and run, explaining that she was going to visit Max in the hospital tomorrow, spending some quality girly time with her. Lucas, who usually spent every spare moment by her bedside, was going to spend the weekend here, after Max, still seriously ill but now well enough to communicate, insisted that he needed to spend at least a bit of time with his old friends.
Tonight, you’d had a movie marathon, Keith developing an uncharacteristically generous side since everything kicked off and periodically dropping off and collecting piles of VHS tapes. Not quite generous enough to bring you any brand new releases, but even things you’ve seen before are better than the ‘sweet FA’ you’d have available given the nonexistent TV reception around here.
Popcorn litters the floor and the saggy furniture, as do gangly boys and a long-haired girl. Jane has commandeered the sole armchair, sitting in it cross-legged, and you, Steve and Robin are squashed onto the sofa with an equally squashed Dustin, the latter insisting that there was definitely room for one more.
Mike and Will are on the floor between the sofa and the old, battered coffee table. Mike’s hunched over a bowl of chips that he’s shovelling in, and Will is leaning against your legs, you stroking his hair in a way you know he finds comforting. Lucas is lounging on the floor at the side of the table, his long body stretched out and his head supported on threadbare throw pillows.
The gentle patter of drizzly rain against the windows and roof, and the crackle of the open fire, one of your only sources of heating, gives the evening a cosy feel, though you hope the rain doesn’t get any heavier as you don’t entirely trust the roof over the rear extension to cope with much more meteorological abuse.
You’ve just finished Raiders Of the Lost Ark and Steve has got up to swap it out for The Stuff, when there’s a strong gust of wind and the rainfall picks up significantly. Great, you think, the weather gods definitely weren’t listening to your silent pleas.
None of you notice Jane stiffening in her seat and shifting uncomfortably.
Under the lashing of the wind and rain there’s a sudden noise at the front door. Not urgent, not loud, just two soft thuds. If the kids had been roughhousing or the film had been on you may even have missed them.
You all look at each other, instantly and equally on edge, and all hoping that somebody, anybody, will provide a simple explanation for this.
Steve’s the first to speak. Jaw slack and brow furrowed, he asks the room, “Uhh, did anyone order takeout?”
There’s a cacophony of ‘no’s’ and shaken heads, before another soft thud is heard, just one this time.
Steve steels himself, not for the first time realising that it’s his responsibility to investigate the possibly terrifying, and potentially life-threatening, situation. He stands from his position by the video player and moves towards the door, fingertips skimming the top of the bat that’s always to the side of it, before closing his hand softly around the handle.
He pulls back the sliding bolts before twisting the lock and pulling the door open just a crack, leaving the chain on. The noise of the weather increases in volume, but other than that there’s no indication of what’s on the other side.
Steve has his back to you so you don’t see his eyes go wide, but you do hear a soft, “Wh- What the fuck?”
Robin being Robin, and perpetually thinking about her stomach, she says,
“What is it, doofus? Pleeease tell me it’s Jonathon and Argyle dropping by from Cali with some delicious Surfer Boy pizza??”
“Uh, no, it’s, uh- You know what? Maybe you should just come and see for yourself. Wait, scratch that, just the adults.”
Knowing this will unwittingly pique the interest of the kids more than if he’d just allowed everyone to come look, you and Robin glance at each other before quickly rising and moving to the door.
Steve closes it and takes off the chain, opening it wide as the three of you arrive, the kids following close behind and trying to look between you.
There, hunched, shivering, soaking wet and covered in mud, is your friend. The one who’d died saving the town. The one they’d buried only a few days ago, after he’d been lying on a slab in a lab somewhere for weeks.
Eddie.
.
Continue to Part One
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Thanks so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed this. Lemme know if you’d like to be tagged in future parts.
Extra tags: @jamdoughnutmagician @joejoequinnquinn
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andypantsx3 · 1 year
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ANDY U CANT LEAVE US HANGING I NEED MORE DRAGON SHOUTO?,!?.!. please… i think ill die if u dont elaborate WHAT DO U MEAN WE’RE FACE TO FACE WITH HIM… what does he say… what does he DO… i need to know more omfg
Riffing off of @mhathotfic's tags on my original post, which I absolutely loved.
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It happens on a cold January evening, just a few months after you've reached your majority.
You escape out into the frosty winter evening to join Shouto, unable to bear your family's increasingly-regular discussions of your marriageability now that you're of age.
Once you dragged home a dragon fledgling, you'd always sort of imagined that the question of your eligibility would be somewhat moot. Not many men wanted a wife who came with little dowry, and even fewer might want one who came with an enormous fire-breathing lizard who barely let her out of his sight.
You thought Shouto would sooner burn down your husband's house than listen to any sounds of discomfort on your wedding night—you didn't think many men would be willing to consummate a union with that threat lingering just beyond the window.
Not that you wanted to be married to any of the village men. Ever since you were little, you'd always had this feeling—a feeling like there was someone out there for you, just out of reach, like they were just a step beyond the next corner. Close, but somehow impossible to catch. So you'd never wanted a husband from the village, and you certainly don't now.
So once the discussion turns towards the topic of your being married yet again over dinner, you excuse yourself, and go out into the night to find Shouto, who is never more than a few hundred meters away.
You find his enormous form easily, his red-and-white patterned scales glittering in the light of a fire he's set, out in the fields you'd found him in as a child, as if he'd somehow anticipated you'd be coming out to him.
He cracks open a fiery blue eye, watching your approach, and lifts a wing as you near him, crowding you between the fire and his warm scales, creating a sort of tent with his wing to keep the heat in, and keep you close to him.
You absently pat his side, sinking down against him, sticking your hands out to the fire.
"They're talking about husbands again," you say, and Shouto cranes his neck around so that he can rest his head across your lap, nearly as large as you are, heavy and warm. You reach out to rest a hand across his snout, petting the glittering scarlet scales there.
You've always known he can understand you, given his reactions to the questions you ask, the way he sometimes watches you with knowing eyes. But how much of what you say to him he truly understands will forever be a mystery, as you'll never be able to ask him.
You think he understands enough, though, to know you're displeased.
"A husband," you repeat in disbelief, scratching over his scales again, listening to the rumble that builds up in his chest almost like a purr. He always likes to be petted, though you get an intentionally blank look from him whenever you dare to bring it up, as though he does not like to be made fun of.
"When they should know you're the only boy for me," you tell him, teasing.
Shouto's eye blinks open again, and you lean back to watch him watching you, something curious in his gaze. You begin to recognize the look for what it usually is—the precedent to some type of mischief—whether that be digging up a garden when he was still the size of a particularly fat cat, to accidentally setting a man's pant leg ablaze when he'd whistled after you, the evening of your sixteenth birthday.
You make a curious noise, and you're just about to ask him what he thinks he's up to when there's a crackle like lightning, and the hot, burning scent of ozone reaches your nose.
There's suddenly a rush of cold air over you, Shouto's massive form gone from around you, and the weight in your lap is suddenly much smaller and lighter.
When you look down, Shouto's head is no longer across your legs. Instead, your gaze meets the perfect pale skin of a very strong, very naked back. You realize belatedly that there is a stranger in your lap, a man with a mop of red-and-white hair, scarlet and snow, who has one warm, muscular arm curled around your waist.
You let out a scream, scrabbling backwards, but the stranger's arm locks around you, and the man's face tips up to yours, blinking curiously.
You freeze, your gaze meeting eerily familiar grey-and-blue eyes, set into the most utterly perfect face you have ever seen. The man's features are careful and exact, the slope of his nose blade-straight, his jawline strong, his mouth pretty and plush and weirdly captivating in the flickering firelight. You cannot help but feel you know him, though you are incredibly certain you have never seen him before.
There would be no forgetting a man as beautiful as this.
"Who the hell are you?" you demand, shock rendering you frozen and dumb.
The man blinks, slow and catlike and so hauntingly recognizable. His eyebrows scrunch, as though something's confused him, and then he speaks, slowly and carefully, as if he's just getting a feel for the shape of words in his mouth.
"I am...Shouto," he says, his voice so deep and smooth. It reminds you so much of the deep, rumbling purr Shouto had just been letting out moments ago—your mouth drops open, disbelieving.
"You're Shouto?" you echo, thrown. Though you're beginning to realize that this devastatingly handsome, distractingly naked man is horribly familiar in hundreds of different ways—from the timbre of his voice to his eyes to his hair to the way his arm suddenly curls even more possessively about your waist, the way Shouto's tail sometimes does to keep you pressed close to him.
And with Shouto the dragon suddenly gone...
"You're my dragon? My Shouto?" you demand.
The man blinks, shifting in your lap so that's he's fully turned towards you. He props up on one hand, his face drawing alarmingly close as his other arm presses you into him. He looks very much as if he likes the sound of that.
"Yes, your Shouto," he purrs, pupils going darker. Your heartbeat suddenly kicks back to life in your chest, stuttering and tripping over itself as his large, hot palm presses proprietarily at the small of your back, as he leans in to bring his mouth close to yours.
"And you..." he says, his tone going rich and smoky and dark, like dragon fire. "You have always been mine."
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medusavsviperz · 27 days
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Hi!!! I love your content so far, it's amazing ♥. If requests are still open could I ask for In heat/Mating season Dogday or Catnap x Fem!Reader?
Mating Season
warnings:smut,cussing
relationships: in heat!dogday x fem!reader
writing type: second person
genre: smut
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it was spring in the playcare. all the children were running around, laughing, playing, really anything they could do. it was also the first spring since youve been dating dogday. wait- speaking of which, where is he?
you wandered around the center plaza of the playcare, asking around to see if anyone has seen dogday. you begin walking up to hoppy, who was playing soccer. "hey hoppy, have you seen dogday?" you ask, seemingly worried. "nah, usually he's with the other kids." hoppy seemed to he focused on her sport, so you decided to leave her alone. you turn around and faceplant right into bobbys chest. "shit.... sorry. what about you? have you seen him?" you were quick to question, obviously embarrassed. "sorry toots! haven't seen him either, have you checked his house?" bobby would respond, after you bumped into her. "oh, no actually, thanks! ill go check that now." you mutter, running off in the direction of dogdays house. as you walked on the street where all the critters lived, you couldnt help but notice how eerily quiet it was. usually kids would be hustling through there, but not today.
as you walk up to dogdays house, who was on the very end, you cant help but notice how all of his windows were blocked out. usually he would have them open, obviously for sunlight. you decide to ignore it, softly knocking on the door. a bunch of rustling can be heard, along with a few whimpers every now and then. suddenly, the door is opened, revealing a slightly different looking dogday than normal. his face was flushed, he looked like he was sweating, he was shirtless, and god... his sweatpants were loosely hanging off his waist, showing his hip dips. your eyes wander for a second, before returning to dogdays half lidded gaze. "puppy? are you alright?" he doesn't respond, instead he grabs you by the arm and pulls you into his house. he makes sure to close and lock the door, before staring you deeply in the eyes. "if i tell you something, do you promise to keep it a secret?" you nod, your seemingly confused gaze still wandering. "you know what spring is for animals right..?" he asks, looking off to the side. "dogday where are you going with this..?" you ask suddenly. he sighs, closing his eyes for a second. "its mating season angel." his eyes dart back and fourth between yours, looking for even a hint of discomfort.
"oh.."
"thats why ive been so distant recently. i didn't want to make you uncomfortable." he mutters, resting his large hands on your shoulders. it was your turn to be silent. instead, you kiss him softly, before pulling away. "it doesn't make me uncomfortable. and I'm willing to help you if you need me to.." his body goes tense, and his eyes widen. he can feel his arousal growing. it was already high to begin with, but seeing you, and all your glory, made him all the more needy. "angel... are you sure..? we haven't taken this step in the relationship yet." he was right, y'all haven't had sex yet. but it couldn't be that bad, whether you were a virgin or not, you doubt he would hurt you. "i'm sure dogday. im ready to take things a step further." neither of you had seen each other naked, but there was a first for everything yes?
he slowly but desperately nods, leaning down to kiss you passionately. his tall frame looming over yours as he does so. his hands slide down your waist, grabbing and groping every curve he can. his tail was slicing through the air so fast, that you could literally hear it. he gently lifts you up, and parts the kiss so he could see where he was walking. his vanilla scent wafts in the air, taking up every space it could. he finally makes it to his bedroom, softly setting you down on the bed. he looks at you with loving eyes, kissing you softly, and pulling away. he lets out a shaky sigh and reaches for the waist line of his sweatpants, staring you in the eyes as he does so. you look down in anticipation, in all honesty, you would think about how he would look naked quite often. embarrassingly often at that. he slowly pulls down his sweatpants, revealing his all too hard erection. you stare in awe at his massive size, reaching out to touch the tip with one of your fingers. "ohh...my god.." he whispers, more to himself than anything. he gently pushes you onto the mattress, and pulls your shirt over your head. he practically starts drooling at the sight of your perky breasts staring at him. his hand grabs a hold on one, gently massaging it. his other hand, reaches for your bottoms and tugs it off, leaving you in only panties. "you're perfect." he lets out a soft whimper and starts pulling off your panties with both hands, gasping at the sight of your glistening pussy.
he inches down onto his knees, using his large hands to push apart your thighs, holding the back of your knees in the air. you can feel his hot breath on it as he looks up at you for permission. with a slow nod, he licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit, sucking gently, and whimpering as he hears your gentle moan. his hands move from gripping the back of your knees, to gripping your inner thighs and pushing them apart for better access. at this point, his muzzle is soaked, and he's desperately eating you out like a starved man. you were approaching your first orgasm of the night, and he was needy for it. honestly, he was making more noises than you were. finally, the knot snaps, and you cum. he pulls away for a second to watch it ooze out of you, before diving back in and suck you clean. once he's finished he stands back up, leaning over you and crawling on top of you. he leaves pepper kisses all over your breasts and neck, and lands a kiss to your pretty lips. you can taste yourself on his mouth and tongue. "d-do you think it will hurt?" you ask wearily. he nods slowly, wincing a bit. "a little. but ill try to make it easier." he says, rubbing smooth circles on your lower stomach. you slowly turn on your stomach under him, so he crawls off to let you get into position. he watches in awe as you get on all fours, breasts pressing against the bed and ass in the air, showing everything you've got to him. "you're such a pretty girl..." he mutters, sliding a hand to gently massage your ass cheek. he moves into position behind you, gently leaning down so that his chest is pressed against your back. you can feel the lengthly tip caressing your entrance. you squeeze your eyes shut, scared for the pain. he pushes in at an agonizingly slow pace, reaching his hand around to rub your clit with soft motions. he gives it a few minutes before he starts thrusting. his pace was still slow; but god did it feel good. you moan loudly into the pillow, his length filling you entirely. you almost let out a giggle, because you can practically hear his tail wagging and slicing through the air.
he begins kissing you on the back, trailing it up and to the back of your neck. he pushes your hair to the side, and bites down gently on the skin. you let out a slutty moan, urging him to keep going. he bites slightly harder, your moans egging him on, as his pace quickens. his balls started smacking your clit just right, and his dick was hitting your g-spot with ease. it wasn't long before you were cumming again, clenching and unclenching around his cock. you notice how his thrusts get more sloppy, signaling he was close. he was letting out slutty whimpers constantly, his heat only making him all the more aroused.
"where do you want it angel...?" .... "inside." his hips still, and he seems confused. "uh? are you sure..?" he asks wearily. "fuck... please dogday." you whimper. his pace starts going faster than ever, skin on skin slapping filling the room. soon, he was a whimpering mess, his load shooting deep inside of you. he still managed to rub your clit, though his hands were shaky, it made it all the more better. one you were both finished, he gets up, not before watching the cum ooze out of you, then he walks to the bathroom to grab a rag. one he returns, he starts wiping you and himself down, cleaning up the remaining mess. "we can get a shower in the morning." he says while flopping down next to you. "definitely." you sigh, snuggling closer to him, and drifting to sleep.
mating season, wasn't over.
made by medusavsviperz
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