#sometimes i’ll be like why does my head hurt so bad and it’s because i have two barrettes in or something like wtf

[viderose]

he’s annoying, i don’t like him (he hasn’t given me as much attention lately)

#im fighting for my life out here #i feel so childish and annoying. like rationally ik i can’t have his undivided attention. but that doesn’t mean i don’t want it sometimes🥺 #i think what actually is happening is that im worrying he’s about to ghost #i feel bad thinking that though. bc he seems like a very honest and mature person? with how he talks abt things i don’t think he would rly #ghost me after talking for this amount of time. but ya never can tell…. every time we don’t talk as much for a few days i get very nervous #and it’s weirdly quite difficult to push that worry out of my head. and then i get annoyed with myself for worrying about it to begin with #like i can’t control what he does so why worry about his hypothetical actions? i’ll deal w the consequences of them if or when they occur. #if we stop talking i’ll feel sad and i’ll miss him for a bit and then i’ll get over it. that’s all. it’s not that bad. #but anyway my point is we good #sometimes idk if id truly feel That sad. i think it depends how it ends. #or maybe i just don’t think anyone can hurt my feelings as much as the first person to hurt my feelings in a specific way #like you experience a loss or betrayal or grief - whatever - the first time and it’s all encompassing. it feels like it could genuinely kill #you it hurts so bad. and every subsequent loss or betrayal or grief you experience just isn’t the same? you barely flinch #maybe it’s because you learn to process those emotions better or maybe it’s keeping things at arm’s length as a protective measure #that means nothing hurts as much as the first thing #idk #this became a silly ramble #im just very attached to him and i miss him when he’s busy but also don’t want to ask too much for fear of being a nuisance or rejected :) #ykwim? #i miss him a lot

[a-walking-fandom-reference]

my head is so fucking sensitive i can’t put like anything in it without it causing a migraine at some point

#sometimes i’ll be like why does my head hurt so bad and it’s because i have two barrettes in or something like wtf #rey actually speaks

[hanaonesflower]

“let me do this for you.”

“let me get that for you.”

“don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”

when nanami was around, it was like being watched by a hawk. not in a bad way of course, just not a way you're probably used to. he is always on it, taking care of everything from beginning to end, hell bent on you not ever lifting a finger and actually bar you from doing it, even behind his back.

"seriously, kento, I can do it myself!"

"absolutely not, you worked all day, when you come home, I take care of you."

you try to bargain, dishing out facts that he, too, has a full time job that usually pushes him to the brink of exhaustion that he may or may not recover from, yet, here he is, elbows deep in dough, insistent on making pasta from scratch. according to a recipe that you may have briefly mentioned weeks ago that you wanted to try.

you tried to pick up the knife and dice the tomatoes or turn on the stove, he shoos you away.

"this is getting out of control, kento."

"you can help me by taking a nice warm long bath, honey."

nanami knows what he's doing, the majority of the time. but will he ever express that he fumbles from time to time? never. not that his ego is inflated, but because he has prided himself for being to care for you boundlessly.

so when you leave the bath and find kento with his hand in a bucket of ice water, you realize something have gone south in the kitchen.

"kento! what happened?!"

"nothing to worry about my l-"

"enough! tell me, now."

your stern voice and attitude stun him, he's never seen you like this before. his behavior is downright concerning, he hasn't always been this way though. sure, he loves by serving, but he isn't always this stubborn or ridiculously protective. you have always cooked together, why would it be different this time, or the last few times within the past couple of months. nanami isn't unreasonable, but he can be if something pricked at his pride.

"I may have burned myself with the hot steam."

"may have? your skin is having a terrible reaction! for a smart man you can be so clumsy sometimes."

"it's not that bad."

you glare.

"okay, it's pretty burnt and it hurts."

"I bet it does."

you slowly pull his hand out from the ice bucket and lead him to the kitchen table and command him to sit still when you fetch the first aid. his palm is raw from the burn and his face twists in pain when you apply some pressure.

there isn't much conversation exchanged between you and him, but something is definitely hanging above your heads. kento seems to be closed off to it, but you're willing to get to the root of things.

"you haven't been yourself lately."

silence.

"I feel like this is not just about providing for me, something happened, and it affected you."

kento looks saddened by this. you are spot on. something did happen.

a few months ago, during a dinner party amongst friends, kento found himself begrudgingly involved in unpleasant conversations with his colleagues, the way they audaciously questioned his ability to care for his partner when he was always away on work trips or spending extra time at work. he took it to heart, kento questioned himself. he realized, that even though his colleagues were terribly annoying and invasive, they made some considerable points. he made the executive decision to fully take over, spinning a complete 180 on you. at first you thought it was sweet, until it became authoritarian.

"that's really how you feel?"

"have I been absent to you, y/n?"

you contemplate for a while, you truly wish he is around more, but you always understand the nature of his job.

"I do wish I can see you more often, when you had that 2-week long vacation, I was able to spend such amazing quality time with you, and it was awesome, but I also understand how your job is. I didn't want to come in between that."

"so I have been absent." he moaned defeatedly.

"please don't blame it on yourself like this, it's not healthy, I still love you, kento."

"this is all my fault, y/n, I should have been there for you more."

truthfully, you wish he was, but once again, you are both stuck between a rock and a hard place.

"have you been doing all this to somehow compensate?"

"is it working?"

he is trying to humor you, although at quite a horrid time, you still crack a smile.

"I think it's very kind of you."

he sighs.

"please, forgive me, my love. I became what you called a workaholic, I tried to get more hours to provide for you, only to come short in other aspects."

"I'm not an unemployed housewife, kento."

“this isn’t my way of saying that you are incapacitated in any way, i just wish that you didn’t have to worry about anything,” he groaned from the incessant gnawing of the antiseptic on his burnt wound.

“kento, this is a partnership, you’re not my servant and i’m not a spoiled brat,” he felt a little silly, nanami knew this fact yet he felt impotent in this sense. he opened and closed his lips, hoping to get his point across even further but nothing seemed good enough at theis point, he’s done fighting.

“whatever you’re going to say, it’s not going to change the fact that i love you,” you silence him.

“then can i say that i love you, too?”

“that, you can.”

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒ ⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒ ⭒˚‧

note: PHEEeewww… it’s really good to be back :33 this piece shall be the redebut as it is one of my cuter fics. going back with smut pieces after such a long hiatus didn’t feel right so – soft nanami is always the way to go!! more content will be coming soon (smut included >.>), stay tuned ( ˘ ³˘)

#nanami kento #jjk nanami #soft nanami #nanami can do no wrong #nanami kento jjk #jjk nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #nanami x you #kento nanami #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk scenarios #jjk fic #aisssHHH i love him more than ever b4 #just the sweetest broody guy evaaaa

[multific]

Little You-s and I-s

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Summary: You and Tommy deal with the changes that come with your pregnancy.

Your pregnancy changed you a lot.

You became more sensitive to smell for example.

One evening, Thomas arrived home from the bar, and as soon as you caught the smell of drinks and smoke on him, you rushed to the bathroom.

Then there was the incident when you craved fish but before you could cook it, the smell of it caught your nose and again, rushing for the toilet you went.

Thomas was incredibly happy when you told him the news, having his own family with you was always a goal of his.

What he didn't like however is just how sensitive you became and one thing that set it off easily was his cigarettes.

Thomas smoked a lot, so for him to not be able to do that in his own home was a bit challenging, but he still found ways to smoke one or two in the furthest part of the garden. Even then, sometimes the wind carried the smell right back to you.

"No smoking and no drinks!" yelled Tom at John as he pulled out a cigarette.

"What? Why?"

"My wife is pregnant, she is sensitive to the smell."

"Oooh, it got that bad huh?" asked John as you entered the room with a tray, on the tray there were some cookies and tea.

"I'll appreciate if you can hold yourself from smoking just this once John, the smell of it just..."

"No problem, thank you for the tea."

"I'll leave you to it." you smiled at your husband who nodded before he turned to John, talking about business.

When lunchtime was approaching, both John and Tom found themselves in the kitchen where you were currently chopping up some carrots and crying.

"Darling, I'm sure the carrots don't mind us eating them."

"Tell that to the headless chicken in the oven, Thomas!" you quickly said back making both men take a step back, Thomas should have known not to argue with you.

Both headed into the dining room instead.

"Is pregnancy supposed to affect a woman this much?" asked John in a hushed tone.

"I think so? I'm no expert John. Arthur has children, he might know more."

"She is glowing though. She was crying but she still looked like a Goddess."

"Can't argue with that, John. But keep your wandering eyes to yourself, she is my wife."

"Does she always cry during cooking?"

"As of late, yes. Yesterday, she made salmon, cried her heart about as she was talking about the poor little fishies the one she cooked left behind. But then this morning, she cried when she made salad. Saying the potatoes didn't deserve to die this way."

"So, she is sensitive to smell, cries when the cooks, can't get worse than that, I'd say."

"She talks back like I have never heard before."

"Okay, I was wrong it can get worse. You mean to tell me, that my lovely shy sister-in-law talks back? The one who didn't dare to tell you she didn't like the ring you gave her?" Thomas made a face at John's confession.

"She didn't like the ring?"

"No, she said she wished you would have given her something more simple. But she didn't want to tell you because she would hurt your feelings."

"Well now, with my child under her heart, she is not afraid to talk from her heart. The other day she told me I should dress better, apparently my suits make me look old. Then she wanted to dance and when I said I don't have the energy she complained that I never have when it comes to her. This is true sadly, however, the latest one... oh Johnny, my boy just before you arrived, she told me to ask you not to smoke and when I told her that you will be free to do as you please, the look. That look I know well, it's the look of someone who is about to murder. She said I either tell you to not smoke or-" Thomas stopped as he felt a shiver run down his spine, both men turned towards the door only to find you with the food in your hands on a tray. 

You approached them and placed the food in front of them. The air was cold, John swore he could have cut the tension with a spoon.

"I told him he either asks you not to smoke or I will seriously question his position as the leader, as all leaders should be listened to and respected. And if he is not able to do so, then I shall take his place. So, you are not allowed to smoke John." John nodded, not even daring to look at you.

"Th-Thank you for the meal." John said.

"I know I can be a handful since I'm with child, I feel the change in myself, the doctor said it was hormones to blame, but I seriously hope you do not plan on talking our dear Johnny's ears off with my silliness, Dear Thomas. He doesn't have to know everything."

"Of course, Love. I apologize." Thomas grabbed your hand and placed a kiss on it.

John left soon after lunch and you were now washing the dishes as Tom was reading in the living room.

Once all dishes were done, you headed into the living room, a soft song playing as he was reading in his favourite armchair. He put the paper down when he saw you approach and you sat on his lap, your head on his chest as he continued to read with one hand as the other was now around you, comforting you.

"Am I really that annoying that you talk to John about it?"

"You are not annoying, Love. Odd, sometimes yes, but that isn't due to pregnancy." you giggled a little.

You were fine with 'odd'.

"I try to control it, you know?"

"Oh, God, is this the controlled version? I'm scared now for the uncontrolled one."

"It will get worse, I'm warning you because the doctor said last week that this will only grow as the baby does."

"It's alright, your body will change, I can take a few harsh words, I took bullets after all." he placed a kiss on your forehead.

"Do you want a girl or a boy?" you asked with a rather quiet voice.

"I don't really care, as long as both of you are safe and healthy."

"So you want a boy, got it." Tommy laughed you looked up at him, into his blue eyes. "I just want them to have your eyes."

"What if they don't?"

"Then we try until we have a child who does." you smiled at him as he looked at you.

"Just how many children my Missus want?"

"Oh, as many as my lovely husband would give me. We have a big house, it would be nice to have some life in it. Little you-s and I-s running around."

"I would like that. Honestly, I would like that very much. But let's see how you do after this one, then we will talk."

You hummed before you placed another kiss on his lips, letting him return to his paper as comfortable silence fell.

Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart @v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports  @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa   @spilledinkindumpster celebsimagine @capsiclesdoll snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow @crazzyter  @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 scream-kiwi79  @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @liveforkarljacobs @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @paola-carter​ @stunkbiggu @violet-19999​ @praline357​

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

             DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

#Thomas Shelby x reader #Thomas Shelby x you #Thomas Shelby imagine #Thomas Shelby imagines #Thomas Shelby #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagines #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder headcanon #cilian murphy character #pregnant reader #pregnancy

[starkwlkr]

Hiiii! So I do not know if you are making requests but if you are doing can do: Charles x Reader where she is a medical student and will do an internship in formula one, Charles does not like her much until he gets hurt and have to take care of her which makes the two approach

kiss with a fist | charles leclerc

warnings: needles and blood mentions and charles being an asshole <3

Y/n was nervous. She was starting her new internship with none other than F1. She watched a couple of races, but she wasn’t a die hard fan. But she wasn’t here to watch men drive in circles, she was here to work.

When she first arrived to the paddock, she was already making enemies. She didn’t mean to, but a certain Ferrari driver had woken up on the wrong side of the bed that morning. Y/n bumped into Charles, nearly dropping his hot coffee on himself.

“I’m sorry! The photographer was backing up and I-”

“Do you not watch where you’re going? There’s all this space around you.” Charles groaned as he dropped his coffee into a trash can. “What? You want an autograph?”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Not everyone wants your autograph. And I said I was sorry. By the way, I’m more of a Red Bull fan.” She really didn’t know anything about Red Bull to be honest. You could have someone explain every single detail of f1 and she still wouldn’t understand. All she knew was that Red Bull probably had more haters than supporters.

She quickly left Charles and walked to her boss’ office where she was supposed to meet him. Y/n was already wishing the day was over so she could go back home and bury herself in her blankets after her interaction with Charles, but she had a long day ahead of her.

“Charles Leclerc crashes into the barrier!”

Y/n watched from a monitor as Charles’ Ferrari crashed. The replay kept on going, sort of a reminder to the Ferrari fans that this season wasn’t going their way. Charles stumbled out of his car, almost tripping over his feet.

“He’s okay, right?” Y/n asked her boss. Sure, he was an asshole to her that morning, but she would never wish for someone to get injured.

“Yeah, I got confirmation that Leclerc is fine. Have you met him yet?”

“Sort of. Had to leave before I could even get an autograph.” She said sarcastically, but her boss didn’t pick it up.

“I’m sure you’ll get one.”

Yeah, no.

After the race, Y/n was going through the piles of paperwork she was told to do. She was writing down on her clipboard when she heard a knock on the door. She figured it was her boss or someone else other than Charles Leclerc.

“Yes?” She looked up to see the driver. “Oh. Finally brought me an autograph?” She went back to writing in her clipboard.

“No, someone made me realize that not everyone wants my autograph. I was just wondering if you have time to check if I’m dying.” He said casually.

Y/n dropped her pen and looked at him, wondering if he was serious or not. “Check if you’re dying?”

“Yeah, I crashed today. My head is hurting, I think I might pass out. I’m not dying, right?” Charles explained.

“Fine, I’ll check. Sit down.” Y/n pointed to the examination table next to the desk she was currently using. Charles followed her instructions and sat on the examination table.

“Are you going to give me a shot? Because I hate needles. And sometimes I get weirded out if I see my own blood.” Charles admitted.

“Why would I give you a shot when your head is hurting? I can if you want me to.” Y/n said, standing In front of Charles.

“Nope, I am good.”

“Great. So just let me check if you’re dying real quick.”

Before Y/n could even do anything, Charles spoke up. “My head actually doesnt hurt at all. I lied, I wanted to come here to apologize for this morning.”

“Did your mom find out and made you come apologize?”

“No, my mother doesn’t know but if she did she would pull my ear and tell me to treat women with respect. And I do treat women with respect, but I’ve been having a bad…” Charles sighed and looked down.

“Day?” Y/n guessed.

“Season actually. Point is, I shouldn’t have been mean to you and I’m sorry and i understand if you don’t accept my apology. If I were you, I wouldn’t.” Charles nodded and got off the examination table. Before he could leave, Y/n called his name making him turn around to face her.

“You forgot your lollipop. I have this thing where I give my patients a lollipop no matter what age they are so here,” Y/n handed Charles a red lollipop. “You’re still an asshole, just the sweet kind.”

“Was that intentional? The sweet comment then you giving me a lollipop?” He chuckled as he took the candy.

“Just take the damn lollipop, Leclerc, or I will give you a shot.”

#formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x you #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc one shot #cl16 x reader #ferrari #f1 fic #f1 one shot #charles leclerc imagine

[moonstruckme]

hi lovely! can u write a one shot of poly!marauders with a tall fem reader? reader is the same height as rem but taller than James and sirius? thank you, it mean a lot bc there’s never really any tall readers!! <33

Thanks for requesting my love!

poly!marauders x tall!reader ♡ 840 words

“You look great,” James insists, sitting on the bed to pull his shoes on. 

Remus huffs, fiddling with his tie. “I look like a prick. I’m not made for posh clothes.” 

“Yes, you are,” you say, walking over and moving his hands aside to straighten his tie yourself. “James is right, you look handsome. Just because you’re not used to wearing a suit doesn’t mean it doesn’t look good on you.” You straighten his lapels, pressing a kiss to his frowny lips. 

“Yeah, it actually really suits you,” James says, laughing at his own joke. 

Remus scoffs, but his lips twitch. 

“Anyway, you can’t wear one of your sweaters to a formal event.” Sirius rolls his eyes, tying his own tie with practiced ease. “Then you’d really look like a prick, and horrifically out of place.” He looks at you, giving your dress an appreciative up-down. “Looking good, gorgeous…are those the shoes you’re wearing?” 

You glance down at your simple black ballet flats. “I was planning on it, why?” 

Sirius frowns, striding over to your side of the closet. “They’re not bad, but I thought you had some that would go better…here.” He squats, digging out a pair of heels. “Why don’t you wear these?” 

You feel your lips purse in distaste. You’d bought those shoes while riding the rush of a spontaneous and fleeting boldness. You haven’t worn them other than to try them on after you’d left the store. You’re taller than James and Sirius barefooted, but heels have you looking down upon all three of your boyfriends. You already feel too tall sometimes, and those shoes only make it worse, more noticeable; it feels like you’re taking up more than your fair share of space. 

“You want me towering over you all night?” you ask Sirius teasingly. “Jamie, why is this dinner so formal anyway?”

“Beats me.” He shrugs. “Guess they want to make it seem like a bigger deal. Or more official, or whatever.” 

“It is a big deal,” Remus says, sitting down next to James and toying with his curls. “You nearly won the world cup, love, that deserves a big event.” He looks at you. “And nobody minds you towering over us, darling. Wear the shoes if you like them.” 

You though you’d left that topic behind. “I don’t know,” you say, eyeing them in Sirius’ hand. “I don’t know if I feel like it.” 

Sirius holds them out to you. “Just try them on and see, yeah? I think they’ll really complement the dress.” 

You try not to sulk as you take them, sitting down on the bed to put them on. When you stand, you feel immediately awkward. It’s like you’re a lamppost rather than a girl. 

Sirius doesn’t seem to notice, whistling appreciatively. “Fuck, babe. Your legs look great in those.” 

You look down as though to fact-check him. Your dress doesn’t show much, but the heels do make the muscles in your calves more pronounced. Still, that’s hardly your priority. “I don’t know,” you say again. “I feel weird.” 

Remus tilts his head at you. “Why’s that?” 

You shrug, crossing your arms in front of you. “I just don’t know if I like being this tall,” you say. “People always stare at me when I wear heels.” 

“I’ll bet they do.” James raises his eyebrows at you. “You look killer, angel.” 

Your shoulders gravitate towards your ears, and you flush. 

“You do,” Remus affirms. “You should wear whatever makes you feel best, but if you’re not wearing heels because you get some extra attention…well, so what?” You blink, unused to such bluntness from him. “You’re lovely, and people are going to stare at you regardless. It’s up to you, of course, but I think you should lean into it.” 

Your heart constricts dramatically at the thought, but you force yourself to consider it, because honestly, Remus does sound sort of reasonable. It wouldn’t hurt you to begin working towards feeling more confident in heels, and a sit-down dinner seems like a decent place to start. 

Sirius offers you a hand, helping you up from the bed and guiding you over to the mirror. 

“You’re a fucking knockout, babe,” he says, and while his voice is light, there’s no hint of his usual teasing. “Wear what you want, but know that you look just as hot in heels as you always do.” 

You hesitate. “You don't mind that I’m so much taller than all of you in them?”

James makes a dismissive noise. “No complaints here,” he says. 

You look at Sirius, the shortest of the boys, but he only cocks an eyebrow at you. “I’m just getting closer and closer to tit level, sweetness.” You let out a shocked laugh, and he grins wolfishly. “Wear heels as tall as you like.” 

You roll your eyes. Lean into it, Remus had said. Okay. You can do that. 

“Alright, let’s go,” you say, heels clicking as you head for the door. “Move those little legs of yours, we’re going to be late.” 

#poly!marauders #poly!marauders x tall!reader #poly!marauders x fem!reader #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x y/n #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders x self insert #tall!reader #poly!marauders fanfiction #poly!marauders fanfic #poly!marauders fic #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders drabble #poly!marauders scenario #poly!marauders oneshot #poly!marauders one shot #james potter #james potter x reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #the marauders #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #the marauders era #marauders fanfic #marauders fic #marauders fandom

[stellar-constellations]

Star Patient: Chapter 1 (ONGOING SLOW BURN SERIES)

WARNING: This series will include; possible inaccurate medical procedures and medical setting, gore, toxic relationships that should NOT be replicated in real life, murder, yanderes, cursing, suicide mentions, implications of misandry (male misogyny), and possibly more.

Inaccurate canon-timeline (this is before Ashley and Andrew murdered their parents).

Reader has a small fear of adult men/rape and has a history of suicide attempts.

Incest is not Wincest.

Amnesiac! Obsessive! Patient! Andrew Graves x Yandere! Nurse! Reader:

Wordcount: 8,390 words (I am so sorry for how long the first chapter is).

Chapters: Current chapter, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 + 6 (in the works)

         “Can you say ‘aaaaaah?’” (Y/N) drawled out.

        Her patient, little eight-year-old Lou, opened his mouth widely like a lion and ‘aaaaaah’ed for her as she shined her mediscope light down into his throat, checking his tonsils, uvula, throat's lining, gums, and tongue.

        “Mmm, I see. You can close your mouth now. Good job, Lou!” she cheered as the kid beamed. “He has enlarged tonsils. Do you hear him snore at night?” she questioned, turning her attention to the concerned mother.

        “He snores so loud he’s woken us up from across the house.” His mother sighed. “Is that bad?”

        “Does he have problems focusing in school because he’s tired. Taking naps that are over an hour multiple times a week?” (Y/N) asked.

        “Yes. His teacher complained just last week about him sleeping in class during a spelling test.” Lou's mother confirmed.

        “I see. Lou, do you have any problems sleeping? Like do you wake up multiple times a night?” (Y/N) questioned, looking over towards the small boy.

        “Maybe once or twice a night…” Lou muttered as he thought to himself.

        “And does your throat hurt when you wake up?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “Sometimes.” He responded.

        “How often do you get sick?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “Honestly, we’ve lost count. This past year he’s been sick at least three times.” His mother admitted.

        “And it’s June. I see.” (Y/N) nodded, grabbing her clipboard of papers and a pen. “Lou is experiencing obstructive sleep apnea due to his enlarged tonsils affecting his sleep, which is affecting his daytime behavior and is the cause of why he gets sick so often. I do recommend surgery to remove them. I’ll write down some children hospitals near your area that specialize in pediatric surgery, that way we can get the right surgeon for the job.” She explained, writing down hospitals, where they’re located, and doctor names specializing in tonsil-study.

        “Does this all sound about right, Doctor Ryan?” she questioned, turning her attention to the corner of the room where the doctor and her instructor stood, observing her performance. 

        “Absolutely phenomenal. You got everything right.” He praised, giving her a teethy smile that belonged on a Colgate commercial while a bubble of pride formed in her chest at his praise.

        “Oh thank you, Ms (L/N)!” Lou’s mother smiled as she clutched her hands together.

        “No worries. Here you go.” (Y/N) spoke, handing Lou's mother the papers. “Check out will be on your right when you walk out. There will be some ring pops too, go get yourself a reward for behaving so good today, Lou.” (Y/N) smiled as she rummaged through her cabinet for a sticker.

        She found one and handed it to Lou's open hand. 

        “You were my star patient today, bud! I’ll see you in a few weeks for your next check-up.” (Y/N) smiled.

        “Thank you again.” Lou’s mother smiled as she held Lou’s hand. "What do we say, Lou?"

        “Thank you! Bye bye!” Lou cheered.

        “Fantastic work today. We have one more patient before you can head out, okay?” Doctor Ryan spoke.

        “Yes, sir!” (Y/N) smiled, excited of who she'd be working with next.

        She loved kids and she loved helping them. It made her happy to be able to care for them and help them on their recovery to healthiness and happiness, hence why she's studying to become a pediatrician.

        “They’re a bit on the older side, but we’re really short-staffed at the moment so I need you to take care of them.” Doctor Ryan explained.

        “How old?” she questioned, noticing they were leaving the hospital’s pediatric branch and going to the elevators.

        They both entered the elevator and Doctor Ryan pressed the 4th floor button. The doors closed as (Y/N) held the handle, feeling a little nauseous at being in a closed space with a man. She doesn't mind Doctor Ryan, but she doesn't like being trapped in uncomfortable proximity with a male—just a fear that was installed into her when she was young. Th elevator moved up two floors before the ride finally ended.

        “Well… they’re twenty-two.” The doctor sheepishly smiled.

        “Sir, I’m training to be a pediatrician, not a regular nurse.” (Y/N) stated firmly as the elevator doors opened, allowing them to walk out into the psychiatric branch of the hospital (must to her relief). 

        “Yes, but like I said, we’re short staffed. We just need to you re-evaluate his wounds and do a check-up on his physical health. He’s on suicide watch.” Doctor Ryan explained.

        She opened her mouth to complain before hearing his last words.

        Damn it, suicide watch? I don’t want them dying on my watch. Not only that, but I have experience in that field so I’m decent help for it. She thought. 

        “I… Yes, sir. I’ll get him checked out.” (Y/N) sighed, caving in.

        "Thank you! You know it's been with the shortages of nurses and all, especially for the psychiatric branch." Doctor Ryan sighed out, in relief rather than reluctant-acceptance that (Y/N) did.

        "I understand..." She sighed again.

        Yes, I understand that the psychiatric branch is full of unstable patients with crazy-strength if set off. How do they expect me to hold up on my own against a fight with these guys? (Y/N) thought to herself.

        They walked to the branch's help desk, scurrying through papers before Doctor Ryan made a noise of acknowledgment.

        "Ah-ha! Here you go." He smiled, giving the paper packet to (Y/N).

        (Y/N) grabbed a chair with wheels and moved it behind her, sitting down and reading the information. 

        "Like I said, just quickly re-evaluate his wounds and do a check up on his physical health. If he has any information on why he tried to commit suicide, write it down. It can help us with finding a therapist or at least a hotline for him. I'll go and write a report for Lou's visit, get that off your plate." Doctor Ryan explained, turning and walking away. "It's sad how young these kids are when they think all hope is lost..." he sighed.

        Twenty-two? That's a pretty normal age for suicide. Try eleven, Doc. (Y/N) thought sarcastically. Well, no time to mope about. Let's get this over with and hope for the best. (Y/N) thought, dreading the interaction.

        She wanted to be a pediatrician not only because she liked kids, but because they were much easier than adults. Adults live in a world where they're made to believe their pain is insignificant because elders and children are much more vulnerable to pain and suffering, so adults constantly fight their pain and hide it from others. Adults hide their pain to avoid pity, to avoid the expensive medical bill they don't want to pay. (Y/N)'s morals may be questionable, but if there's anything she believes as a nurse and upcoming-pediatrician, it's that you can't put a price on life. Kids have no shame telling someone if they're in pain, adults act as if they're dishonoring their family's reputation and pride if they tell someone they have a cough.

        Not only that, but she doesn't want to work with adult men. It's been proven that some perverted adult men cause injuries to themselves so they can be in the care of gentle women, who they take overpower and advantage of. Of course, women can do the exact same thing too, but it's more prevalent with males. (Y/N) hates working with adults because she doesn't want to be apart of their sexual fetishes or apart of the statistics.

        (Y/N) read through her patient's information, gathering the details she needs to access the situation:

Patient: Andrew Graves, 22. Room 402. Reason for admission: Jumped from a third-story building and ended up landing on his legs. By miracle, no injury to spine other than minor bruises. Both legs and ankles are shattered, needs multiple surgeries. Stitches on ankles, change bandages every 4-8 hours. Minor concussion and possible amnesia.  Precautions: Patient isn't very cooperative. Use restraints if necessary. Has a sister that is extremely uncooperative and violent, has threatened other nurses. Use extreme caution with patient and sister to prevent any pain or stress that would worsen patient's condition. 

        (Y/N) put the paper packet down on the desk and sighed, shoving her hands into her face and groaning.

        Of course! Not only an unruly patient, but an unruly visitor too? God, if you're real, is this your way of telling me it was a mistake being a pediatrician? (Y/N) thought to herself. Let's just get this damn thing over with, after this, I can go home and rest.

        She walked to a medical supply closet in the staff room and took some bandages and anti-septic cream, along with checking to make sure her stethoscope and mediscope was all there. She grabbed two water bottles from the mini fridge and shoved it into her bag along with two mini-bags of pretzels from the snack cabinet. 

        She shut the staff room's door and locked it, shoving her key and lanyard under her lilac purple nursing scrubs in case some pocket-picker (or someone stupid enough) tries to steal her key. She made sure her bag's strap was secure against her firmly and walked towards room 402.

        (Y/N) stopped at the patient's door to collect her breath. She heard voices inside, only dreading the next few minutes once she realized how angry the voices sounded.

        "Damn it, Andrew! You just had to fuck shit up like you do with everything else, huh?" a girl's voice rang through the room.

        "Isn't this what you wanted? You make no sense..." a boy's voice, Andrew perhaps, sighed.

        "I didn't expect you to take me seriously, dumbass! What if you actually died? You'd leave me all alone to deal with the shit you caused!" the girl shouted.

        "Keep your voice down! And the shit I caused? You're the one that started it all! If it weren't for you, we wouldn't be on the run!" Andrew hissed.

        "Oh, so eating the neighbor was my decision? Is that what you're saying! No, you're the one that fucking said it!" the girl exclaimed.

        "You implied it!" Andrew retorted.

        "I did nothing! But even then, we would've starved in that damn apartment! Is that what you wanted? And you're the one that killed the warden, then the damn lady!" the girl claimed.

        "Hey, the lady was self-defense and you're the one that made me kill the hitman! I killed the warden because you got caught! We would've both been fucked at that point!" Andrew reasoned.

        "WE ARE FUCKED!" the girl screamed.

        "Ashley! Calm down!" Andrew spoke, raising his tone.

        "ME CALM DOWN? HOW CAN I BE CALM AT A TIME LIKE THIS?!" the girl, Ashley screamed, sounding crazy enough to potentially be pulling her hair out.

        "Well you're going to have to! Someone might discover we're on the run!" Andrew hissed through his teeth.        

        "Don't you realize, stupid?! If you died, you would've left me all alone in this shitty world. I can't live without you, Andy..." Ashley muttered.

        "My name isn't Andy, Andy is dead. It's Andrew." Andrew stated firmly.

        "Fuck you, Andrew! I hate Andrew! I want Andy back! At least Andy still liked me!" Ashley shouted, her tone sounded like she was close to breaking down in tears.

        "Ashley, come on... We've gone over this. I like you." Andrew sighed.

        "Yeah right! You tried sleeping with that lady at the apartment complex!" Ashley accused.

        "Damn it, Ashley! I already told you, she tried to kill me so I killed her! What part of that involves sex?" Andrew hissed.

        "I don't want to hear it, you bastard! The second you get a girlfriend, I become invisible to you!" Ashley complained.

        "As if! I was always ditching Julia for you! Even then, you fucking convinced her into breaking up with me!" Andrew huffed.

        "I was weeding out the whores that sprout their legs open! She doesn't deserve someone like you, Andy!" Ashley shouted, then took a deep breath. "I'm your sister, Andy. I know what's best for you! I know who's best for you! She wasn't shit!"

         "You're stressing me out, Ashley..." Andrew groaned, his voice muffled (presumably shoving his face into his hands). "I don't want to talk about this... I don't even know how we got on this topic but just shut up about it... We'll leave as soon as I heal up some." 

        "That'll take too long. We can leave now!" Ashley whined.

        "And what? You want me to run on two broken legs? Are you going to carry me?" Andrew spoke, verbally knocking some sense into her. 

        "I-I'll find a damn wheelchair! We'll put you on a wheelchair and run." Ashley spoke, suddenly not sounding as confident and aggressive as she was previously. 

        "Run where? There's no where we can go! Mom doesn't want us and we can't just live on the streets forever. This is a good opportunity for us to rest here and think about our next move." Andrew explained.

        "Says you. You get a nice bed and food provided to you while I'll be stuck outside, cold and alone while I rot away outside." Ashley snapped, exaggerating her voice on the last bit.

        "I'm sure you'll figure something out. You have a way with getting what you want." Andrew huffed.

        "Not all the time..." Ashley muttered. "I still think we should take a wheelchair and-"

        "Leave, Ashley. Visiting time is over." Andrew spoke firmly.

        "But-" Ashley started, but was cut off.

        "No buts, Ashley. Leave... You're just making me feel worse..." Andrew sighed in frustration.

        Good, stand your ground against her. I don't know their full story, but Ashley sounds really manipulative to me, but Andrew definitely doesn't sound like a victim either... (Y/N) thought to herself. 

        "Fine, I'll leave and I'll never come back! You can't live without me, Andy!" Ashley shouted before walking towards the door.

        Sounds like a threat... (Y/N) thought. 

        Damn it, she's infuriating. As expected of her though... Andrew thought to himself.

        (Y/N) realized that Ashley was coming her way. She didn't want to seem nosey so she quickly ran to an open hospital room, making sure to redirect her weight to her legs so her footsteps wouldn't make noise in case it alerted Ashley. She heard Andrew's door open before slamming close, then footsteps walking past the room (Y/N) was in.

        (Y/N) held close to the wall where the door was, hiding herself in case Ashley peeked into the room on her way out. (Y/N) waited a minute after the footsteps vanished, just to be sure that Ashley wasn't on her way back. She walked back to the door before stopping, realizing what the siblings revealed to her.

        They're murderers. Not only that, but cannibals too. They both confessed. I have to be careful about this guy, two broken legs or none, he's dangerous. (Y/N) thought to herself, then held her fist up to the door.

        She gently knocked three times, then opened the door, not caring for a response back. She saw Andrew staring out of the hospital's window (one without bars, (Y/N) believes that's a stupid decision since this is a known suicidal branch on the fourth floor). His reflection showed his eyes closed, his eyebrows pinched in frustration.

        "I said leave, Ash—" Andrew's head turned to look at the nurse and his eyes only hardened, as if seeming more mad at the nurse than at Ashley who ran off.

        Watch it, buddy. I can make your death look like an accident... (Y/N) thought inside of her head, only proving her dislike of caring for adults.

        "Expecting someone else?" (Y/N) spoke, forcing a polite smile on her face. 

        I'd rather not have to try and fight him into restraining him against the bed. She thought. 

        Andrew stayed quiet as he glared at her.

        The previous nurses that entered his room weren't very kind to him, they were old and seemed annoyed to care for their patients. They got an earful from Ashley. Not only that, but they sure were rough with re-doing his bandages, sloppy too. He didn't want to deal with anyone else today, he just wants to go to sleep.

        Maybe a permanent sleep like jumping out of this window... At least I wouldn't hear Ashley complain so much. Andrew thought to himself.

        To be honest, Andrew doesn't exactly remember much. For some reason, he only has memory of the past three months and that's it. All of his memories consisted of being locked in an apartment with little food, to no food, for three months with Ashley, rotting away. Then Ashley had the bright idea to eat the neighbor after breaking into his apartment and seeing him fail a seance to a... demon? As crazy as that sounds.

        Well, she didn't exactly say it, but she placed the thought into Andrew's head then forced Andrew to say it to make it seem like it was his idea. Then she started chopping the neighbor up to eat him, then the warden came and Ashley got caught, which resorted in Andrew having to kill the warden so the warden wouldn't contact any other wardens with his walkie-talkie. Ashley had the bright idea to escape the apartment complex by completing the seance and offering live human. Andrew eventually agreed to it.

        Then they ran from the place and ended up in a lady's apartment. Turns out she whored herself to get food from the wardens, so they used her to escape. While Ashley left to do the seance, Andrew had to hold her hostage so she wouldn't try to call for help from the wardens. He made the mistake of taking his clever away from her neck and letting go of her, but she got ballsy and tried to kill him with a nail gun, resulting in Andrew killing her. Then Ashley came back and started to freak out, saying that Andrew was trying to get in the girls pants (however she came up with that conclusion, Andrew is unsure). 

        They completed the seance by sacrificing a warden and escaped the apartment complex, finding themselves on the run as wanted felons. It was then when Ashley and Andrew got in a fight and Ashley told Andrew to kill himself, to make it easy for her and the police. Andrew was fed up of running and listening to his sister's idiotic (and borderline psychotic) ideas that he actually did jump (to which Ashley brought him here instead of just letting him bleed out, much to his dismay). 

        But before all of those events, everything else is blurry. He has no recollection of himself or his family after all the horrid memories trapped in his head.

        (Y/N) felt a little unsettled under his very judgmental gaze, remembering that he confessed to killing at least two people (possibly even more).

        Is he sizing me up to be his next victim? (Y/N) briefly thought before pushing that thought away. No, he said that they would've starved in their... apartment? What did they mean by that? 

        As much as she wanted to find out, she didn't really feel like wanting to die either. Her college debt would go to her family, and it'd be too bothersome to die. Too much time wasting on dying (she'd be too impatient to die slowly). 

        “I’m a student studying nursing, please call me (Y/N) despite the name tag.” (Y/N) smiled. 

        I'd rather not tell him I'm studying pediatric nursing. I don't want him freaking out or anything since I'm technically out of my field. She thought.

        “They couldn’t bring a real nurse or doctor?” Andrew huffed.

        Great, if she makes any mistakes, he might have to stay here longer than necessary, and Andrew does not want that.

        “Unfortunately, we’re short-staffed at the moment. No one here likes working the night shift.” (Y/N) sighed. “But, luckily for you, I happen to be a very good student. I even dare to say better than some of the other nurses here.” (Y/N) joked, a smile on her face to try and brighten up the murderous aura surrounding Andrew.

        Andrew stared at her in silence, unamused.

        “Tough crowd…” She muttered. “Alright, let’s get this over with first.” (Y/N) spoke, walking closer to Andrew (whose guard only raised even more at this). “How many fingers am I holding up?” she questioned, holding up two fingers.

        “Four.” Andrew huffed, crossing his arms.

        “And now?” she questioned, holding up one.

        “Two.” Andrew answered.

        “Last time.” She commented, holding up two fingers again.

        “Four.” Andrew spoke.

        “Okay, are you thirsty right now?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “I guess…” Andrew muttered.

        “Here.” (Y/N) spoke, digging into her medical bag and grabbing the bottle of water she shoved in there from earlier. “Hungry too?”

        “No.” Andrew answered, resulting in her placing a bag of pretzels and water on his nightstand.

        “They're for later. It’s important not to have them now even though you’re thirsty. Just trust me.” She spoke before continuing her little survey. “Feel any pain anywhere?”

        “My legs.” Andrew spoke, pointing out the obvious in a ‘duh’ tone.

        “Other than there?” (Y/N) added. “Such as a headache? Behind the eyes?” 

        “Both.” Andrew answered.

        “Have you vomited? Do you feel nauseous at the moment?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “Haven’t thrown up, but I feel sick” Andrew admitted.        

        “Have you or your sister noticed any gaps in your memory? From today to a few months or even more?” (Y/N) asked.

        “Yeah, actually…” Andrew muttered.

        (Y/N) took a few steps towards him, basically hovering over him.

        “What the hell are you doing?” he snapped, but didn’t pull away or shrink from her.

        “Calm down. Are your hands clammy?” she questioned.

        “A little...” Andrew muttered, not breaking eye contact from her.

        She broke the eye contact as her eyes swept through his face, looking at his disheveled black hair and electric green eyes, a beautiful combination, she noted. She also noted how pale his skin was along with the sweat running down it.

        “Andrew, open your eyes wide for me, please.” She spoke, reaching into her bag and pulling out a mediscope.

        Andrew complied with a little bit of hesitancy, allowing her to watch as his pupils shrunk from the light. She looked closely at his retinas to make sure there was no tear along with the hydration in his eyes. They did seem a little blurry, she noted.

        “Open your mouth, please.” She requested.

        Andrew sighed but listened as she did. She checked his tonsils, throat lining, tongue coloring, gums, and uvula. 

        He felt awkward having her do all these procedures and asking all these questions, whether it was her job or not. He wouldn’t deny it, she was pretty, prettier the woman at the apartment complex he murdered.

        Wow, nice thinking… Andrew internally scolded himself as he looked away from the girl. Comparing your nurse to a dead girl you killed really isn't a sign of insanity or detachment.

        At least he was self-aware?

        “And real quick, let me look inside your ears, please.” She requested.

        Andrew stood still as she shined the light in his ear, checking through the tiny camera to see if there was any ear infection or something out of the ordinary. Nothing.

        “Last thing.” She spoke, placing her mediscope in her bag and switching it for her stethoscope. 

        “Can I ask why you’re doing this? All these questions and procedures?” Andrew questioned, adverting his eyes from her as she started listening to his heart.

        There was a moment of silence as she focused, looking at her watch as she listened to his pulse.

        It's 102 beats per minute, a bit quick for his age, but it's not too worrying and it can be easily caused by the stress and trauma of his situation, she noted. 

        “Are you telling me the other nurses didn’t do all of this to you?” (Y/N) asked as she responded his question from earlier surprised and a little concerned.

        “Nope.” Andrew replied lazily. 

        “Ugh… elders.” (Y/N) muttered quietly, earning a small smile from Andrew (one he quickly hid with a cough as he adverted her gaze). “They’re supposed to check you for any possible illnesses or worsen conditions. I know you came in here because you jumped a three-story building, but it can be linked to serious health concerns. You can develop future problems we can identify and fix right now if we take the time to look.” She explained.

        “So what did you discover, doc?” Andrew questioned in a monochrome tone (she wasn’t exactly sure if he was making a joke or being serious or even sarcastic).

        “Well, you have internal bleeding.” (Y/N) spoke, not bothering to even try to sugarcoat it or break it to him lightly.

        “What? How bad?” Andrew grimaced, afraid of the reaction Ashley would give when she hears this. 

        “How much blood did you lose when you fell? Were you conscious when you hit the ground?” (Y/N) questioned. 

        “I mean, I was conscious till I hit the ground. After a couple of minutes I woke up and was in pain, understandably so, until my sister dragged me to a hospital. So I was probably out for five maybe ten minutes.” Andrew explained. 

        That’s not good, along with all the other symptoms he’s experiencing. She thought to herself.

        “How about this. On a scale of 1-10, how much blood did you think you lost?” (Y/N) rephrased.

        “Seven, maybe eight.” Andrew huffed. “I don’t really know.” 

        “No worries. It’s not a big deal. They said you shattered the bones in your legs so you’re going to need surgery for it. Luckily they were able to reposition and place back your ankles.” I explained. “You’ll be bedridden in the hospital for a couple weeks, then you're going home and being bedridden for six months, minimum.” (Y/N) emphasized the last word to show the most importance to it. 

        “Fuck... What about the internal bleeding?” Andrew sighed, dreading the lecture Ashley would give him.

        "For your severity, you'd need surgery. It'd take a couple weeks for you to heal, but your internal bleeding should be healed by the time you're discharged." (Y/N) explained. “Now, bear with me for a second. I’m going to level your legs and it’s going to hurt.” She spoke as she walked to the tall hospital cabinets, taking three soft and limbless pillows from it.

        “Ugh…” Andrew groaned, already dreading that part as she walked back to him.

        “Take a deep breath.” She instructed.

        She waited for Andrew to audibly breathe in. He did what she requested, his chest and shoulders rising (he ignored the shock of pain that came with it, but she noticed and figured it was due to the internal bleeding).

        “Hold it in.” She spoke, then lifted his heavily bandaged legs with one hand (with a bit of struggle) and placed the pillows under him.

        She gently rested his legs onto the pillows and looked at Andrew face, seeing his eyebrows furrowed and his fists clenches tightly.

        “Breathe, darling. You’re all done.” (Y/N) instructed, letting out a deep breath for him to mimic too in case the pain was too much.

        Andrew let go of his breath, regaining control of his lungs after a few manual breaths. 

        “You did so well, my star! Do you want a sticker?” (Y/N) questioned.

        Andrew adverted his eyes from her smile, his face red from what he wants to be because of holding his breath, but it was instead caused by her praise and pet names (or maybe both).

        “No…?” Andrew muttered.

        “Mm. What color do you want? Gold, pink, blue, red, purple, or gray?” she questioned.

        “Why do you have a gray star?” he questioned.

        “Good choice!” (Y/N) spoke, rummaging through her bag for her stickers. 

        She found them and searched for a gray star, finding one and undoing the paper back. She sticked it on Andrew’s chest, clothed with the blue hospital gown. 

        “Tah-dah! You were my star patient today!” (Y/N) beamed. 

        “Are you done?” Andrew sighed dully, adverting his eyes to hide his blush.

        “Nope! I have to redo your bandages. This’ll also hurt, but I’ll be gentle with you.” (Y/N) explained.

        “Hurry up.” Andrew huffed. 

        “So soon to have me leave, huh?” she sighed jokingly. “Hurts my heart.” 

        She reached into her bag and grabbed bandages, gauze, and anti-septic cream. 

        “So, Andrew. Kinda curious, what made you jump?” (Y/N) questioned, remembering her superior's words as she started undoing Andrew’s bandages on his legs.

        “Why would you need to know that?” Andrew growled, becoming defensive.

        Ah, I pissed him off. But this is important information for his health, murderer or not. (Y/N) thought to herself.

        “You know, I tried killing myself too. I was eleven. Failed multiple times. But you had the courage to jump. I didn’t do that.” She explained.

        “How’d you try?” Andrew questioned, a spark of curiosity in him.

        “I’m not giving you any ideas, mister.” (Y/N) laughed, giving him a playful yet stern expression before switching her gaze to study the stitching on his ankles. “But, I gave up and made an oath to never harm myself in that way again because it really affects the people you care about. Your sister was probably very sad when you jumped.” 

        At least the surgeons did that good, so no worries there. Luckily the swelling is just from the breakage and replacement of bones, so his stitches aren’t infected. She thought to herself. But let’s add anti-septic cream just to be safe.

        "How long ago was that?" Andrew questioned, ignoring her comment about his sister.

        "Ten years ago." She hummed.

        She must be around the same age as me. Andrew thought.

        “Did it get better?” Andrew questioned as (Y/N) applied the cold cream onto his wounds.

        The temperature of the medicine barely even got a reaction from Andrew since he was so focused on the conversation they were having. 

        “At the beginning? Of course not, in fact it spiraled downhill from there. Overtime I started picking myself up and it helped. It helps to surround yourself with people who cared about you. And if you have no one who cares, then learn to care for yourself. Your confidence in yourself will attract others to you.” (Y/N) explained. "We humans need to be there for each other, you know? We're social creatures after all."

        “Hm.” Andrew hummed in acknowledgement, not really paying attention to her optimistic speech.        

        It's not like he had anyone to turn to. He remembers his girlfriend breaking up with him on the phone while he was rotting away in his apartment. Ashley had verbally abused her enough that she didn't want to see him or Ashley anymore. He doesn't have any other family than his parents who rejected him because "he and Ashley were too close and had to learn independence" his mother said on the phone during their last phone calls in quarantine. He's not exactly sure what she meant by it (especially with his memory gone), but so far all Ashley's done is pissed him off these past months he's remembered, so he really doesn't want to see her again anytime soon. He doesn't remember if he has friends or not either.

        “Andrew, what do you like to do? What do you do in your free time?” (Y/N) questioned.

        Andrew thought about her question. The three months that he remembers, all he did was sleep, starve, and watch TV (all with Ashley). He read books from his parents room out of boredom before losing the energy to even try and keep acting like he was actually remembering the plot—it took too much energy remembering the events that happened in the book. 

        When Ashley and Andrew did talk to each other during the time, it was to bicker and complain to each other about food and the other’s company (Ashley always started it).

        “I don’t have any… None that I remember at least.” Andrew admitted.

        “Don’t stress it. Your concussion could be affecting your ability to remember. We’ll find some new hobbies for you.” (Y/N) reassured. “Maybe books, card games, video games? I’ll find something.” She spoke as she redid the bandages on his ankles.

        “Why are you even bothering?” Andrew sighed. “After some months I’ll be gone.” He pointed out.

        “Yeah, but I wouldn’t want you to be bored the entire time. Personally, I would hate being bedridden with nothing to do.” (Y/N) admitted.

        What a sympathetic girl... Andrew thought.

        “Whatever…” Andrew muttered, crossing his arms. 

        “Voilà! Whaddya think?” she questioned.

        “It’s tight…” Andrew admitted, it didn't hurt much, but it did feel a bit annoying.

        “That’s to keep your ankles in place. Your bandages aren’t bleeding much, so you should be ready for casting. I’ll leave a note for that.” She explained. “Any requests before I go?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “You’re leaving?” Andrew questioned, sitting up and straightening his back before cringing at the pain shooting up his legs (and the pathetic tone in his voice).

        “Yeah, my shifts almost over...” She paused and checked her watch. “It’s actually been over for 20 minutes now.” 

        Andrew muttered something under his breath, adverting his eyes as he looked away from her.

        “You’re coming back tomorrow, right?” Andrew questioned.

        “Ah… I don’t know. I don’t work in this branch, I work with kids in the pediatric branch.” (Y/N) smiled nervously.

        I hope I’m not upsetting him. She thought to herself.

        She tolerated Andrew’s company, for a man of course. It was surprisingly refreshing and the atmosphere is much more comfortable than it was when she first entered.

        Andrew huffed, looking back at her.

        “I like you better than the other nurses.” He admitted, crossing his arms and looking away again so she wouldn’t notice his red face.

        “Aw. I’m sure you’ll enjoy Penelope tomorrow, she’s a wonderful nurse!” (Y/N) smiled. “I’ll make sure to visit you tomorrow before I leave work and check in on you, make sure you’re still intact and dandy, okay?” she smiled.

        It’s like I’m making a promise to a child. She thought to herself. 

        Her thoughts were backed up by the spark in his eyes as he looked back at the nurse.

        “Okay…” he muttered, pushing down the urge to smile.

        “I’ll see you later, star!” she smiled, referring to his sticker on his chest. “Door open or closed?” she questioned.

        “Closed.” Andrew answered.

        “Alrighty! Click the button on the side of your bed if you need a nurse or need to ask something. In an hour you can drink a little bit of the water, but hold off on the pretzels until tomorrow. Make sure you get good sleep! Body’s natural way of healing.” She explained, flashing him a smile. “Goodnight, Andrew.” 

        She closed the door and took a silent breath in.

        That went surprisingly well… She thought to herself.

        She walked back to the staff room and unlocked the door, opening it to find Ruby, an old and stern nurse who worked day shift.

        “You’re clocking out late.” Ruby gruffed. “Heard they were understaffed tonight.”

        “Ah, yes. I had to go to patient 402’s room.” She smiled politely despite it being very draining to.

        It's hard acting so happy all the time with her patients and coworkers. She liked work, but her face wasn't friendly, so she had to resort to smiling a lot (as annoying as it was for her).

        “The moody patient with the psycho sister? How’d that go?” Ruby questioned.

        “How did you know?” (Y/N) questioned, sparing her a glance.

        Ruby’s day shift, so she comes in at 7 am and leaves at 7 PM. How would she knows about Andrew? she thought to herself.

        “Penelope was in near tears when she clocked out. Told me how closed off the boy was and the sister was screaming and yelling at Penelope, talking about how she’s trying to steal her brother away from her—something like that…” Ruby muttered the last part to herself.

        Psycho sister indeed. (Y/N) thought to herself.

        “The girl wasn’t in there when I entered. The boy is reserved at first, but if you keep talking to him he’ll respond. Just be patient.” She spoke, shoving her leftover medical supplies into the supply closet.

        “I swear, Penelope gets too butt-hurt about these patients. And I don’t understand how you can deal with those kids, snotty and crying all the time.” Ruby complained as (Y/N) snagged a computer seat and sat down, typing up her report on Andrew Graves condition.

        “The kids are just scared. Give them a lollipop and it’s like Christmas.” She laughed, straining a smile. “Good talk rubes, but I’m going to head out.”

        “See you tomorrow.” Ruby responded lazily.

        “See ya. Good luck on your shift.” (Y/N) spoke.

        She walked out of the staff room and locked the door behind her, taking the elevator to the first floor. She exited the elevator and walked out of the hospital lobby, walking to the staff parking lot to her car. She grabbed her keys from her scrubs pockets and unlocked her car, opening the door and buckling her seatbelt before driving off.

        The drive is longer than she likes from her apartment but at least her thoughts plagued her so she didn’t have to be bored.

        A murderer and a cannibal? Not one but two! Should I call the police? I mean, they must have reasons. They were locked in an apartment and resorted to eating their neighbor? Why would they be locked in an apartment? I’m sure if they went to the police they would’ve been understanding, I mean it was life or death and one dead is better than two. What am I thinking? I shouldn’t be thinking that at all, I’m a nurse. (Y/N) thought. 

        “Ugh…” She groaned. 

        She made it to her apartment and unlocked her door, opening it and closing it behind her, making sure it was locked before she walked into the kitchen.

        I don’t feel like cooking, I don’t have the time for it anyways. She thought, opening her freezer. 

        She grabbed a quick microwaveable meal and put it in the microwave, setting it at the box’s desired time before walking away and grabbing her computer.

        She checked her emails then started her medical essay for pneumonia and bronchitis. The microwave ringed and she grabbed her food and some drink, walking back her to computer and continuing her work while eating.

        She finished her dinner and the final touches of her essay before sending it her college professors at her university. She stood up and stretched, walking to the kitchen and cleaning her dirty dishes before going to her room and picking out a nightgown. She walked to her shower and undressed, washing her hair and allowing the water to relax her nerves and sore legs from standing all day.

        Check-ups tomorrow should be Rachael Gardener and Joseph Stall. I'll meet a new patient, Lily Wells, since she's switching healthcare. After that, it's walk-in's from there. I'll pay a visit to Andrew thirty minutes before my shift ends and check up on Hailey. (Y/N) thought in her head. 

        Andrew. He's sure a special case at the moment. Nurses are going to have to keep a watchful eye on him to ensure his condition doesn't worsen or cause any harm to himself or others. (Y/N) thought. Two broken open-fracture ankles and complete fractures in his legs. Just thinking of that pain makes me squirm. She cringed, stopping herself from washing her hair to shake the imaginary chills she created.

        Not to mention his internal bleeding from his brain, his concussion from his fall must've caused that. Luckily he doesn't have any other injuries otherwise I'm pretty sure he would've been dead. She thought as she stepped out of the shower, drying her hair and body.

        I should find some video games and books to keep him from being bored. I need to get some new books for Hailey to read too, my bookshelf is going dry for her. She thought as she started getting dressed. I'll also do a quick google search of Andrew and Ashley, get some information out of their situation (or at least the most of it).

        .

        .

        Andrew woke up and stared out of his window blankly, watching as people walked in and out of the hospital, some in wheelchairs and some in casts. In a while, that'll be him leaving this place.

        Or with the pace Ashley wants, tomorrow. Andrew thought, a frustrated huff escaping his mouth. 

        Who could blame him? He tries to kill himself and all of a sudden he lost basically all of his memory from when he was born to three months ago, that's almost twenty-two years of his life lost in just a flash!

        Ashley told me to jump too. I shouldn't have listened to her and her damn rants, it would've caused so much less trouble, but I was going insane listening to her. Andrew thought. 

        Andrew's been wishing a lot of things lately. He's been wishing he could remember everything about himself, wished he never drank that supposed contaminated water that got him locked in the apartment which got him here in the first place, and wished he could get up and walk out of here.

        Ashley visited him earlier. Something in him was happy to see his sister, but dread filled his stomach at seeing her walk into the room.

        "Thought you said you weren't ever coming back?" Andrew spoke, recalling what Ashley said yesterday.

        "I might've been a bit hasty... and inconsiderate" Ashley huffed, crossing her arms and glaring at Andrew. "I found a hotel nearby. I'm staying there until you get better."

        "How will you pay for it?" Andrew questioned.

        "Easy! I'll just kill people and take their wallets!" Ashley beamed, getting an glare sent her way.

        "Don't do that, idiot. You'll get caught easily without me." Andrew sighed, already finding himself frustrated at their conversation so early in.

        "Well, I could stay here! I'll stay in the bathroom when the nurses are in the room. I can keep you company and sleep in the same bed as you as we used to." Ashley teased.

        "I have two broken legs, remember?" Andrew pointed out.

        "I'll be extra careful." Ashley smiled, as he looked at her unamused. "Hmph! Be that way!" Ashley huffed, giving attitude as she crossed her arms. "Was it lonely without me last night? Did you have any nightmares?" Ashley questioned, her tone teasing with a hint of suggestion.

        Nightmares? About what? Andrew thought. And what's with her damn tone?

        He paused as he thought about anything the past three months.

        "No. Why would I have any nightmares?" Andrew questioned

        "Did you hit your head when you fell?" Ashley teased harshly, poking his cheek roughly. "Your nightmares! About that girl we killed back then? What was her name?" 

        "I don't remember." Andrew admitted. "Wait, we killed someone else?!"

        "Wow, you must've actually hit your head hard." Ashley spoke, a little surprised.

        "A nurse said I had a concussion and internal bleeding, so my memory isn't sharp at the moment." Andrew explained, still worrying about who else he's killed in his past.

        "Ugh. That'll only slow us down..." Ashley sighed. "Would you like to know?"

        "Might as well." Andrew sighed.

        "You killed that girl when we were young! She had an asthma attack in a box and it was hilarious!" she cackled.        

        "That doesn't sound funny. She was a kid, wasn't she...?" Andrew murmured.

        That nurse, (Y/N), she works in the pediatric branch. I don't think she'd be happy if she heard that. Andrew thought to himself. Why am I caring about her all of a sudden? I think I really need my brain checked out... hopefully by her... 

        "She had it coming though! She liked you and she was trying to separate the two of us!" Ashley tried to justify, noticing his reaction.

        "Whatever you say, Ashley." Andrew sighed.

        "I don't like this... I miss you, Andy! We were really close! You didn't need a girlfriend because you had me by your side!" Ashley whined. "It's because of one of these slutty nurses, huh? They're just holes for you to stick your dick into! You don't need them like you need me! I'm all you need!" Ashley started shouting.

        Andrew's really starting to think their sibling-ship is bordering to relationship the way Ashley's been acting and saying. 

        Gross... Andrew thought.

        He remembers the downright suggestive comments Ashley spoke in the apartment (and just a few minutes ago), along with the overprotectiveness he's experienced at times with her. Even if, just a bit, if their relationship was that (incest-like), it hasn't gotten physical since he places money that they would've done something while trapped in that apartment for three months. Andrew let out a sigh of relief, glad their relationship hasn't escalated to that point. 

        So there's still a turning point to get out of that. Andrew thought to himself.

        It's simple really, separate from Ashley. 

        That's all he has to do, but with her co-dependency, it won't make it easy. Unless, all he does is reject Ashley's advances towards stepping-up their relationship and trying to escape the hospital.

        "Andy, fucking listen to me!" Ashley shouted into his ear.

        Andrew was snapped out of his thoughts as the world around him spun. Ashley was holding his hair and shaking his head back and forth, creating a headache behind his head and eyes.

        "Ashley, let go! What part of concussion and internal bleeding didn't you understand?!" Andrew shouted, grabbing her hands as he fought them away from his hair.

        He succeeded in pulling her hands away, but she didn't want to let go without locks of hair in her fists.

        "I hate you, Andrew! I hate you! You and this stupid hospital and those stupid damn nurses! I hate it I hate it I HATE IT!" she screamed loudly.

        The hospital door opened and three nurses came in, their hair disheveled and bun's messy from racing down the hallway.

        "Ma'am, calm down. Otherwise I'm going to have to ask you to leave." One of the nurses spoke, their name tag reading Penelope.        

        "DON'T YOU TELL ME TO CALM DOWN, BITCH!" Ashley screamed at the poor woman, her finger jabbed into the nurse's chest. "I bet it's you! Yeah, you! You're the bitch manipulating my brother! I'll fucking kill you!"

        "Ashley!" Andrew sternly shouted, catching her attention long enough for the three nurses to tackle the girl.

        Ashley kicked and screamed as they got her, two nurses dragging her by her legs out of the room as the other nurse ran to go call security to escort her out (and keep her out).

        Andrew watched as all the women crowded out of his room, a little surprised.

        Well, she won't be coming back soon... that was surprisingly easy... Andrew thought to himself. Step one, separate Ashley from me. Complete.

        Ten minutes went by and someone stepped into his open-doored hospital room. It was Penelope, the nurse from earlier (and yesterday). 

        "M-Mr. Graves. Would you allow me to check--?" she was harshly cut off.

        "Get the hell out." Andrew growled, glaring at her with his vibrant green eyes.

        She nodded and quickly turned around, about to leave before he spoke up.

        "Wait." he spoke, effectively stopping the nervous girl as she turned around, fiddling with her hands. "When's that nurse coming back? (Y/N) (L/N)?" Andrew questioned.

        "(Y-Y/N)...? I don't know... She's not in our branch." Penelope muttered sheepishly.

        "Well, find out!" Andrew snarled. "I refuse to accept treatment from anyone else but her!"

        "Okay!" Penelope exclaimed all too quickly (glad to no longer be taking care of Andrew) and ran out of the room.

        He really meant it too. Any time a nurse tried to come into his room, he'd shout and throw anything nearby at them. It was a drastic change from yesterday's silence. Some nurses assumed he was scared as potential memories reappeared in his head, or perhaps he needed a higher dose of pain killers. They regretted entering the room after getting hit by pens and notebooks from the nightstands, he even threw his pillow.

        "I hate working in this damn branch! Where the hell is (Y/N)?" Ruby shouted in the employee's only room, the elder asking for her help from her inferior. 

The first chapter for this is done! This series will also be posted on AO3 and Wattpad! This series won the poll after a close tie, and I'm so glad it did because I was internally rooting for this to win! Don't worry, the other series' will be posted too after this one is completely posted for what I have so far.

Want more Andrew Graves content? Check out the Andrew Graves masterlist!

Inbox is OPEN for requests!

Chapters: Current chapter, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 + 6 (in the works)

#stellar constellations #andrew graves x reader #andrew graves #andy graves x reader #andy graves #ashley graves #coffin of andy and leyley #tcoaal #yandere x reader #yandere x yandere #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #yandere x willing reader #yandere x you #fem reader #x fem!reader #x yn #x reader #x you #x y/n #x female reader #x female y/n #female yandere #female y/n

[angelzai]

bitch

we do things a different way, it's up to you and it's up to me, i'm your bitch, you're my bitch . . . !

NSFW CONTENT - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

wc: 3k

cw: dom!atsushi, gn!afab!+ada!reader, dazai being an asshole, established relationship, teasing, nicknames (darling, pretty, bitch), use of cunt/clit/hole/cock/dick, begging, fingering, penetration, unprotected sex, rough sex, choking, orgasm denial, praise, creampie, cum eating, questionable confessions upon climaxing? FILTH FILTH FILTH

reid: my dazai shrine is more of a dazai and atsushi shrine at this point…oops anyway ENJOY hahaha

. . . .ᐟ

For as much affection as Atsushi holds for his mentor, the bandaged man is also the bane of his existence.

It's apparent in situations like this - ones where Dazai has once again made some sort of good-natured poke at your relationship with Atsushi, and the white-haired boy can't help but cross his arms and try to stay stone-faced while he blushes. The worst part is you always giggle along with his elder.

Not that Atsushi’s particularly embarrassed when it comes to discussing your relationship with your coworkers. Rather, what bothers him is the way Dazai and the others have ran with the narrative that Atsushi’s your loyal cat, you have him under your thumb, you wear the pants, blah, blah, blah.

He blames himself, partially. He let them go so far with the jokes and the teasing and his gentle, docile nature toward others. Everyone seems to assume now that it’s all true. Atsushi just doesn’t know how to dispel these conceptions, no, misconceptions that he alone is your pet, your baby, that he’s submissive to you somehow, without being vulgar or crude.

Because you both know that’s not always true.

But it’s no one else’s business, really. Sure, he brings you your coffee just how you like it every morning, and sure, your first instinct after stressful missions and assignments is to fold him into a hug and let him collect himself in your arms. Sure, you take good care of him and he likes to give that appreciation back. Sure, he picks up your extra paperwork when you’re just too tired.

But today, when Dazai looks up from stirring his coffee to coo and remark, “It’s just so cute that Atsushi’s your little bitch,” it stirs something in your weretiger that he doesn’t find appropriate to express at the table in the café, surrounded by his colleagues.

So he sits there and takes it like he always does. Sure, you never give into prodding at him quite like Dazai encourages you to, but you don’t deny it. You still laugh. Even while you’re pink in the cheeks too, you nudge your lover under the table and will him to play along.

And he does, for the most part. He sends you sheepish smiles while he taps his foot, tries to wipe the flush from his face, even laughs along to mask his irritation.

Until he can get you home and prove them wrong to the only person that really matters - you.

“God, my head’s starting to hurt so bad. Think I looked at the computer for too long today,” Atsushi says a little shakily. It’s true that it was an office-heavy day; whether or not his comment is a cop-out is lost on you.

You turn to him. “I’ll get you some water from the bar and we can head home, sound good? I’m actually pretty tired, too.”

The smile he flashes you is pure as can be. “I would love that, my darling.”

Dazai glances between the both of you as you usher Atsushi out of the booth. Your superior turns to strike up a conversation with Kunikida about how, yeah, his head hurts too! Why do you give us so much work, Ku-ni-ki-da-kun?

The sweet barista slides you a cup of water; you thank her and wave goodbye to your coworkers as the bell above the door sings your departure.

Atsushi tangles his free hand with yours as he sips his water intently. You swing your arms a bit along the slight breeze. “Good thing I just picked up some more tylenol. I knew we were running lo-”

“Dazai annoys the shit out of me sometimes,” your lover interrupts you. You blink a few times. It’s rare for Atsushi to be so forward with such a sentiment. Unless he’s really pissed. Or, unless-

“Yeah, he can be a little much with the teasing,” you agree, looking ahead. “If it’s uncomfortable, Atsu, I’ll tell him to tone it down, and I’m sure he would. He’s a dick, but he’s not that much of a dick.”

“No, it’s not that it’s…” He swallows, withdrawing a bit. “Uncomfortable, I just… don’t understand what’s with the, uh… you know.”

You quirk your head toward him. “The…?”

He groans a little. “The way they all assume I’m your bitch.”

You pause for a moment.

Then, you chuckle a bit. “Oh, that’s what it’s about.”

Atsushi whips his head to glare at you wide-eyed.

“Yeah, it is.”

You’re silent the rest of your walk. You’re silent as you jiggle your key in the lock to your dorm. You’re certainly aware that Atsushi can be dominant when he wants to. He knows you’re aware of this.

“Well,” you muse innocently as you rummage around in one of your kitchen cabinets as he shuts the door abruptly and pulls his shoes off, “I don’t exactly know how to tell them otherwise, Atsu. You wanna tell ‘em what we get up to?” You shake a couple pills into his hand - whether or not the headache was genuine is still beyond you until he backs you toward the counter, slams his meds and empty cup beneath his palms, and cages you into a feverish kiss.

No headache, you conclude. You lock your arms around his neck and smile into him.

There’s nothing humorous, however, in the way he scoops you up by your ass - you yelp because you’re always caught off guard by his effortless strength - and carries you until he can drop you on your back onto your futon.

Atsushi’s warm lips don’t leave yours for a second as he wedges a knee between your legs and presses into you hard without hesitation. Your gasp lets his tongue behind your teeth. Your eyes slip open as his hands work in the space between your hips and your shoulders and you realize he’s serious. He wants them to know the truth.

“Everyone thinks you’ve got me whipped. And they’re right,” Atsushi’s nearly growling into your mouth as he makes quick work of your tie and button up. “But sometimes it seems like you forget-” He captures your bottom lip between his teeth before pulling back to stare down at you. “-you’re just as needy for me.”

With that, he starts down your neck.

The kisses he presses there are more of bites - he laps at them, soothing each blooming red patch with his hot tongue. You grab at his hair.

“Gonna let me remind you of that, huh?” His fingers are undoing your belt, and he’s leaning back to look down at you.

Of course, you look gorgeous, nodding obediently as your hands fall back on either side of your head. Atsushi works you out of your pants. Already breathless, you reach for his clothes, too. You really could undo him with the simplest of touches, the softest of looks; he was determined, however, to live up to his words. He was going to remind you.

You barely get his shirt all the way unbuttoned before he’s circling your cunt with two fingers.

You gasp once more.

“So wet.” It’s an observation he makes almost every time; it makes you go red no less.

It’s really a sight, your weretiger so fiery and assertive. You understand why people tend to take him for a softie; they don’t know him like you do, though, and the thought makes you grin as he works you open on his hand. Your hands fly to your mouth as he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and looks down at you wildly.

Atsushi’s so pretty with his hair mussed and his abs flexing in anticipation. His fingers sink into you with fervor.

“Atsu,” you croon out as he curls inside you. “Oh, fuck.”

He’s concentrated as he yanks his pants down and off with one hand and stretches you out with the other. His multitasking comes to a halt as his cock hits his stomach - you’re empty again, his fingers leaving you with a pop!

He lets you lean up to push his shirt off his shoulders, but the second you reach for him, he smacks your hands away.

“Nuh-uh. Gonna do it my way,” he tells you, grabbing you by the hips to pull you up and flush against his pelvis - with this, your back hits the futon again, and you’re breathless once more from his manhandling. His eyes are dark, dual-tone sinking like a sunset as he stares down your body like you’re a god.

Your knees have bent on instinct - Atsushi takes one of your ankles and hooks it over his shoulder before pressing his tip against your waiting hole.

You must make a face, because he grins wickedly.

“Already got your eyes rollin’ back and I’m not even in you yet.” It’s his turn to laugh, and his laugh is meant to mock you. Mock your laughing from earlier. Mock Dazai. Mock everyone who thinks you don’t completely belong to him.

He pushes his silver bangs back and grinds his cock against you.

Your hips roll. You can’t help it - there’s a sheen of sweat on Atsushi’s forehead already, and he’s rolling his bottom lip between his teeth again. He looks like an angel. Your other leg wraps around his waist in attempt to pull him closer, to get him inside you, but he just holds you by one thigh, one hip, and keeps grinding into your clit torturously.

“You want it, pretty?”

You nod furiously - he won’t not give it to you. He can’t hold himself back when it comes to you, you’re sure.

“Better say please.”

“Please,” you keen. “Want you to fuck me, please.”

He keeps grinding. He keeps looking down at you. He grips you harder.

“A- Atsu,” you continue. “Please. Please, please, please.”

But he just keeps looking at you.

“I want it, please,” you keep going, keep drawing milky noises from between you both in your pathetic attempt at friction, unsure of what he’s looking for.

Your weretiger’s jaw sets.

Among your frantic humping, you let everything you can think tumble out.

“Please, fuck me, Atsu! Claim me, please. ‘M yours, I’m all yours, I want it, I want it, just fuck me like you own me, please-“

That’s what he’s looking for.

It’s all he needs to plunge into you. He sets a brutal pace and you arch, your whining, moaning, and sobbing underscoring the rhythmic smack, smack, smack! of his hips against yours.

And he fucks you like this for what feels like forever.

Atsushi’s hands alternate between your waist, your nipples, your neck, your ass, your single calf and other hip, your clit, over the next twenty? thirty? minutes. It’s hard to tell how long he drills into you - after the first time he pulls his hand off your twitching clit to put your orgasm off further, time is far beyond your grasp.

He denies you thrice more, laughing through his groans. He’s looking at you in the most condescending way possible through the haze of utter love he feels for you all the time - especially right now - hoping he’s made his point as he tells you no, not yet, so good for me, gotta make sure you know whose you are, one more for me, you’ll cum when I tell you to, pretty.

Something about today must’ve really gotten to him - it’s undoubtedly the longest his patience has spread through his words and commands, some new, some old, some making you clench around him like a virgin.

“You’re cock drunk-” Atsushi pulls a hand off the calf next to his face and licks his fingertips before reaching down to play with you once more. “-every- hah- every time I’m in you. You love this dick.”

“Ah- ah- ah- ‘tsu!” You’re incoherent against his pace - you’re giving him everything you can, really. He’s relentless right now. “Y- yes!”

“That’s fuckin’ right. Hah-” He rubs you hard and fast while he impales you on him. ‘“Wanna hear you say it.”

There’s a tinge of a whine in his command - a tinge that, if he wasn’t fucking you out of your skin right now, would’ve made you smirk. His insistence that he can take control and keep it would’ve usually made you snicker, but right now Atsushi has one hand driving you steadily toward heaven, the other gripping your neck, and his two-toned eyes are burning almost completely violet beneath his creased brow as he awaits your response. All you can give him is strangled breath.

“Nngh- huh- ah!”

It’s like a switch flips for a moment. He circles his hips, trying to let you catch a break to speak, but his grinding against that one spot inside you coupled with his fingers on your pulse in two places barely gives you the chance - you claw into his biceps as he slows to a brief stop. Neither of you know if the whimper you let out is one of relief for a lull or pain at the loss of his thrusts.

You can tell he’s biting at the inside of his cheek before he slides his hand up to your jaw and hunches forward to kiss you fully and sweetly on the lips. The look in his eyes as he pulls back is chaste compared to how he’s still throbbing inside you.

“You okay, pretty?” He traces the shell of your ear with his finger. The flecks of green in his gaze sparkle momentarily. There’s the Atsushi everyone knows and loves.

You let out a final huff and squeeze his arms reassuringly before you answer. “More than okay. Just winded.”

The smile he sends you is alight with nothing but adoration.

Atsushi kisses you again, this time on the forehead where he mumbles a quiet good, and strokes your face. He shifts himself around a little, giving you a second while you mutter about how good he feels, how he should please keep fucking you, how much you want him to make you cum.

When he pulls himself upright again, the flecks of green are lost in the violet once more.

“Now that you got your voice back-“ His fingers still ghost across your cheek, teasing gently toward your lips. He lets out a single sigh, too. “-I said I wanna hear you say it.”

“Fuck it out of me,” you challenge.

Atsushi draws his lips together, shakes his head, and picks back up where he left off, angling as deep as he can reach. He’s entranced by the way your cunt swallows him, soaks him - your words ring in his head as he thumbs at your clit again.

“Say it,” he snarls.

You’re rocking madly against his hand and his cock - you’re close again, he can tell from the way you’re babbling anything but what he’s asking you to, if not from the way you rake your nails down his arms.

“I’ll let you cum when you say it.” Atsushi shakes your leg off his shoulder to push it back against you, along with your other one. “Need you to say it.”

“Love you, Atsu-“ you tease him. “Love you, fuck!”

“Say it!” He cries your name and doubles over, his elbow landing on one side of your head as he pounds you impossibly harder. “Say it, say it, say it, say it, please.”

Finally, you’re able to muster up that smirk. He can’t see it - his face is buried in your neck; he’s watching the way you ripple beneath the tight back-and-forth swipes across your clit.

You’re shaking - you want to hold off for as long as you can, get back at him for denying you so many times, but the feeling is too all-encompassing from the way Atsushi reaches your guts and abuses your clit and breathes into your shoulder that you have to - plus, he asked so nicely! You just have to let him get what he wants.

“I love this dick, Atsu,” you sob. “L- love this dick. Would die for this dick- ngh- Wanna- ah! Ah!”

“Fuck, th- thank you.”

Silver hair falls over your eyes. Atsushi’s hips stutter in time with yours.

A white-hot shimmer rolls over you as your weretiger pushes you over the edge - you thank him back, you tell him you love him, you curl your legs around his hips and swear you go blind for a moment as he fucks his cum into you, wet, warm, squelching.

“Fuck-“ Atsushi’s cursing between your name, “Fuck, you feel so good. So good for me. Fuck! Love you, love you, I love you-“

You feel a few tears in the crook of your neck - you know he was just as desperate as you - and Atsushi doesn’t stop moving until you’re glazed over and squirming numbly, kicking at him with what minimal strength you have left, pulling his face toward yours for a kiss.

His vigor is spent - his other arm supports him as you cup his face, tuck his single long strand of hair behind his ear, and press your panting mouth to his.

The kiss is long and sweet. Atsushi twitches inside you; you feel slick dripping down the curve of your ass toward your sheets, but can’t find it in you to care. You just kiss your man, gently, softly, breathlessly.

Atsushi finally pulls back, sits up on his knees. He dips two fingers in the mixture of cum leaking out of you and licks them clean.

He leans down to kiss you one more time; you taste both of you on his tongue. “Hope you know you’re my bitch just as much as I am yours.”

In all actuality, you scarcely need reminding, but you’ll happily crumble beneath him every time he asks because you love seeing him in the way he was minutes ago - sweaty, disheveled, knuckles white, jaw slack as he pumps you full of his cum and tells you you’re so good for him, you make him feel so good. It’s worth it to know he feels loved and cared for; it’s worth it to know he feels like he can give that back to you.

Even after all that, he’s still grinning wickedly.

Yeah, you’re going another round. Maybe this time you’ll really show him who he belongs to.

#atsushi nakajima x reader #atsushi x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #atsushi smut #angelzai original.ᐟ #devilzai hours.ᐟ #mdni

[flowercrowngods]

Hello hello my friend, I’m here hopefully asking for more who did this to you ❤️

the audacity of you 😔 i cannot believe it. you’re so lucky i’m not a man of my word 🤧🤍 (jkjk this made me laugh) however, this is not a direct follow-up to snippet no. 7, and rather somewhere in the middle. i hope that’s fine 🫶

who did this to you | part 1 here earlier snippets: 1st • 2nd • 3rd • 4th • 5th • 6th • 7th

Eddie is in the kitchen, anxiously biting at his nails as he watches Wayne talk to Harrington the same way he does to the stray cats that sometimes make their way through the trailer park. It’s the same way he talked to Eddie all those years ago. His I’m not gonna hurt you voice. His I know better than you and I will use that to help you voice.

It’s unsettling, hearing it right now. Hearing it directed at Steve Harrington out of all people in this godforsaken hell hole of a town.

“…and I’m gonna stay with you, make sure that doctor knows what he’s talking about when he says you’ve got a really, really bad concussion and possibly a broken rib or two, boy. Okay? Dr Clarke won’t make me leave. He’s gonna help you. You need help, kid. And you’re going to get it, I’m gonna make damn sure of that. Okay?”

Harrington, his eyes red rimmed now, takes a while to react, but Eddie has a feeling it’s not because of the concussion turning his brain into a hurting wad of cotton. It’s because he, too, is very much like a scared, stray cat who somehow found his way into Wayne’s care and doesn’t know yet how to trust.

“Okay,” he breathes at last, and Eddie’s shoulders sag in relief. He remembers the fear, the panic, the plea for no hospital, Eddie. Can’t go there.

Why not? You need a doctor—

Monsters. Only monsters there.

“Okay. But I’m scared.”

Eddie can see Wayne’s nod, can see him lay his hand on Harrington’s shoulder and dip his head to look at him, to catch his eyes and hold them.

“Then we do it scared.”

And that’s just about Eddie’s breaking point, his eyes stinging again, his mind screaming at him to leave, to run away, to not think about whatever monsters in hospitals boys like Harrington are so afraid of. To not think about the tremor in his hands, not think about Said I’ll go blind. Or deaf. Or just… die.

You won’t die, Steve.

Yeah?

Yeah.

Okay. That’s good.

In the end, Eddie does run. Out of the kitchen, out of the trailer, outside so he can breathe again. Heave them in and fill his lungs with air so the scream won’t burst free.

He doesn’t even know what he would scream. Or maybe he does. Maybe something along the lines of, Who the fuck are you, Steve Harrington?

#LAST ONE FOREAL GUYS!!!! #steddie fic #steddie #who did this to you #wayne munson is the best in every universe pass it on #make me write #wip weekend #EXCEPT IT’S WEDNESDAY

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Ngl, I kinda forgot I was trying to do this in alternating POVs. That… kinda failed for a minute. Oops. But here’s Robin! And Wayne!

Part 1 | . . . | Part 35 | Part 36 | Part 37

“How could I have him and lose him in the same moment?” Steve asks, and he sounds so sad that Robin wants to wrap him in a hug and about four fuzzy blankets and give him hot cocoa and kill whoever made him sad. Except, she thinks, that would be Eddie, which would really just make Steve even more sad-

She stops her train of thought.

“Want me to go yell at him again? It worked the first time,” she says, just a hint of a grin in her voice, and it works because Steve sounds further from tears next time he speaks.

They joke a little more, until she feels comfortable leaving him, and when he drops her off at home she barely drops her things inside before bolting to grab her bike.

She pedals hard all the way to Forest Hills. She’s about to dump her bike before she sees Wayne on the front porch, smoking, so she carefully lays it down instead.

“Afternoon,” he says.

“Hi, Mr. Wayne,” she replies politely. “Is Eddie home?”

He tells her no, that he’s gone to apologize to Steve, and invites her in for tea and a talk. She thinks for a second before mentally shrugging and accepting.

He holds the door open for her and begins talking as he grabs a mug. She’s delighted to see that the inside reads, You’ve been poisoned! and says as much.

Wayne grins. “‘S become a habit of mine, collecting these mugs. My momma always said there ain’t much a cup of tea can’t fix, and I’ve found she’s right. Plus, havin’ a fun mug lifts your spirits.”

Robin chuckles. “That it does.”

“Now,” Wayne says, turning to face her. “I’m guessin’ you’re here to kick my nephew’s ass again.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Sir.” Wayne makes a face. “I’ve got a good name that none o’you younguns ever uses. Call me Wayne.”

Robin giggles. “Will do, Wayne.”

Wayne nods. “Good. Now, ‘bout Eddie. You let me say my piece, and I’ll let you decide whether or not he deserves another kick in the ass. Fair?”

“Fair,” Robin agrees.

“Alright then. My Eddie’s not a bad kid, though I’m guessing you know that.” He pauses to take a sip of his tea. “Sometimes he does things without thinking them through, just like everyone. Sometimes people scare him.” Her hackles raise, and Wayne raises placating hands. “I’m not saying any of this is your Steve’s fault. All I’m sayin’ is, people do stupid things when they’ve been hurt in the past.”

Robin cocks her head. “Eddie was hurt?”

Wayne hums around another sip. “The details ain’t mine to give, but yes. He was. Just about a year ago now. I almost had a stupid reaction to what he told me.”

“What stopped you?”

Wayne shrugs. “Experience, partially. But you helped too.”

Her eyes widen. “Me?”

“Yup. See, Eddie’s real observant. So when he came t’me a few months ago, talkin’ ‘bout how he thought you were the same as him, I had an idea of the kinda person you are. No tolerance for idiots, at least those who aren’t your friends. Loyal to those who are. And I thought, now why would she stick around him if he’s that kinda person? And I came to the conclusion that he’s not. Or he’s not intentionally. So. Pair that with the way Eddie’d been acting, and I had a pretty good idea of what was goin’ on.”

Robin nods. “Y’know what Steve said to him?”

Wayne hums. “Somethin’ bout how he’d never been with another guy?”

Robin nods again. “Exactly. And to have Eddie react like that…”

Wayne sighs and tips his head back until he’s looking at the ceiling. “Lord knows I love that boy,” he murmurs. “But he sure does know how to get himself into trouble.”

Robin grins. “And how to get himself out of trouble?”

Wayne snorts and looks at her. “Outta the frying pan, into the fire, more like.”

Robin giggles. “Yeah, I kinda got that impression.”

Just then the phone rings, and Wayne raises a brow at it, then sighs and stands to answer it, waving Robin down when she starts to stand as well,

“Munson residence, y’got Wayne.” He hums. “Wayne’s just fine, son, none‘a that Mr. Munson crap. She is, I’ll hand it over in just a second. My nephew apologize to you yet?” A grunt. “Good. Here she is.” He waves her over, and she hurriedly swallows a sip of tea before hopping over to the phone. “Steve?”

“Hey. The little shit found Dart.”

Robin breathes out a laugh. “Jesus. D’we gotta kill it and live with his sad face now?”

“That’s the thing, though, is it did help. He fuckin’ domesticated the thing.”

“Okay, so which one of us is gonna tell him?” She asks, in a tone that means it’s gonna be Steve.

He laughs, “well I’m not gonna tell him.”

“The fuck you’re not,” she argues, “you’re his second mom, dingus, it sure as shit ain’t gonna be me.”

He squawks, “I am not his-”

She hangs up on him with a satisfying click and a smug grin.

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#stranger things #if I should stay #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #robin buckley #wayne munson #Wayne is a gift #as is Robin honestly #platonic stobin #fix it fic #time travel #time travel fix it #starambles

[saratinz]

Erase Him From Your Brain

pairing ➩ Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

warnings ➩ angst, drinking, smut, pure filth, spanking, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamics, degradation, praise, pet names (good girl, slut)

synopsis ➩ sequel to 'Fuck Away the Pain'

word count ➩ 1.4k

a/n ➩ to celebrate reaching 69 followers, I give you part 2. comment to be added to taglist.

Your date with bucky is tonight, and you could not be more nervous. It’s weird, the fact that you’re about to have a romantic evening with the guy who you only had hatred towards two weeks ago. There’s a thin line between love and hate, and you two had crossed it. You have no idea what’s going to happen at this dinner. He picked a fancy restaurant, but no amount of money spent can make up for a lack of connection. And that’s your worst fear, realizing that even though your sexual chemistry is off the charts, your ideas of romance might clash. 

You went through hundreds of different outcomes in your head, but never did you expect this one to even be possible. “Ma’am, if he’s not gonna show up, I need you to give up the table.”

“Thank you for being so patient, he’s not coming. Here, let me give you, $20, for your time.”

“I’m so sorry about your boyfriend.”

“Appreciate it. Have a good evening.”

When you get back to the compound, you can’t stop the tears that flood your eyes. How could he do this to you? How could you fall for it, fall for him? Whatever shred of respect you had for him a month ago is gone. James Barnes is a no-good, very bad, wretched man, and no amount of charm will ever get him out of this hole he dug. You are done. Done with lies, done with assholes, and done with love. What even is love anyway? Seems like all it does is cause pain. Your thoughts race as you lie in your bed, wondering what the fuck you did wrong. You’ve felt this pain before, you know you can beat it, but everything feels so awful. You want this hurt to be gone. Why won’t it just go away? Why won’t he just go away? That’s your last thought before you drift off into a not-so-peaceful slumber.

You wake up to violent knocking, with your eyes puffy and pillow stained with makeup. “Y/n, it’s Bucky.” Fuck this, you roll over, figuring he’ll eventually go away. “I know you’re in there, F.R.I.D.A.Y confirmed for me.

“Fuck off James.”

“C’mon baby, just let me apologize.”

“Get away or I swear to god, I’ll make your life a living hell.”

“Just, I rescheduled our dinner for tonight, if you don’t come, I understand, but I’m giving you the option.”

“Hope you’re more embarrassed than you’ve ever been in your life.”

“I love you. ”

“Fuck you.”

“Okay, I’m leaving.” You scream into your pillow. The thought of going to dinner with Bucky makes you sick. It still crosses your mind though. No, you refuse to think about what could happen. Like how he could apologize, could be easy to talk to, could be your soulmate. Shut up brain. You do not want the guy who betrayed you, the guy who teased you to no end. You hope he’s in pain, and maybe that’s wrong, but it’s simply how you feel. 

You’re not usually a day-drinker, but this situation calls for it. You cradle your favorite drink, sipping it way faster than you should. You see a familiar face passing. “Hey Sam.”

“Hey Y/n. I need to talk to you.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Bucky.”

“God, please don’t tell me he put you up to this.”

“He’s so sorry. He had a few drinks before dinner, he was so nervous, he wanted things to be perfect. He passed out from not sleeping or eating.”

“Here’s the thing, I don’t care what happened. I was scared too, but I showed up anyway.”

“He wanted me to give you this.” 

“Take it back to him, I don’t want it.”

“He said even if you didn’t open it, I have to force you to take the box.”

“Sam you’re really getting on my nerves.”

“Y/n, you want my honest opinion?”

“Go ahead.”

“He’s an asshole, you deserve better.”

“Then why are you doing this?”

“Because even though he sucks sometimes, he’s never cared about anyone half as much as he cares about you. He’s always had your back.”

“That’s what you do when your an Avenger.”

“No, I mean he literally begs people to check up on you, to look after you, hell, he convinced Steve to give you a chance.”

“I didn’t ask for him to do any of those things, and look how well my thing with Steve ended.”

“He cares more about you than he does his best friend, that’s what came between them. You’re special, he didn’t intentionally fuck this up, that’s just what you get when you fall in love with him. So please, for the love of god, take him back, so that I never have to do this again. I will pay you to go on this date. Name your price.”

“One million.”

“I was thinking more like $50.”

“I’m not going to dinner.”

“Just, don’t drink too much, okay?”

“I know. Goodbye Sam.”

“Bye.” Once he leaves, you get right back to self-medicating. The drinks start to taste less and less like alcohol. You know your limits, and you use that knowledge to drink as much as you can without blacking out. When you finally cut yourself off, you realize it’s time for dinner. But there’s no way you’re going. Even drunk you knows that’s a bad idea. 

Bucky clouds your mind, like the virus he is. How do you even explain your feelings toward him? He’s just, he won’t get out of your head. You kinda wanna go to dinner. Wait, what? No you don’t, let him be so embarrassed like you were. But he’s so hot, and good at sex. No, shut up brain. And you love him. Well, that you can’t deny. No matter what you tell yourself, that will always be true. Fuck it, fuck reasoning, you are going to stop him from going. You don’t want him in pain like you are. 

You practically sprint to his room, trying to catch him before he leaves. You run into him in the hallway with his room. “James, don’t do this.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s humiliating.”

“I don’t care.”

“Well, I do. I still love you, I don’t want you to go through with this.”

“There’s nothing you can do to stop me.” 

“Not even if I let you fuck me?” You put on your best pouty face.

“What?”

“Not even if I suck your dick?”

“Y/n, stop it.”

“Not even if I call you daddy?”

“How, how did you know I like that?”

“I didn’t, but I do now.”

“Shut up.”

“Guess you’re just gonna have to punish me, daddy.” All of a sudden, you’re pushed against the wall, caged in, and getting really turned on.

“You wanna be a brat? I’ll treat you like one.”

“Do your worst.” His lips are on yours in an instant, and it’s a filthy kiss, just tongue and teeth. You yelp as Bucky pulls away and throws you over his shoulder. Once you get inside his room, he walks to the bed and tosses you onto it. 

“Take your clothes off, underwear too.” You do as he said, feeling self-conscience under his dark gaze. “Good girl, now I’m gonna sit down, and you’re gonna lay across my legs.” Crawling onto his lap, you cry out as he smacks his hand across your ass. 

“What the fuck?” Another hit.

“You begged me to do this with your bad behavior. I can’t just let you get away with whatever. I’m gonna make you my obedient little slut, it’s time you learn a lesson or two. But if you feel uncomfortable, just say the word ‘red’ and I will stop.” Once again, you’re struck. “After every spank, I’m gonna need you to say ‘thank you, daddy’. You got that?”

“James, that’s humiliating.” He puts all of his strength into the next blow.

“That’s not my name princess, now what do you say?”

“Thank you, daddy.” You reluctantly mumble.

“I can’t hear you.”

“Thank you, daddy.” You scream.

“Good fucking girl. Now we’re gonna do that 20 more times.” 

When your punishment is finally over, your eyes are puffy and your face is soaked. “It’s over honey, you did so good.” He helps you straddle him, kissing your tears away. You lay your head on his shoulder, wishing this feeling will last forever. He lies down, maneuvering your limp body so that you can use his still clothed chest as a pillow. You’re super drowsy, from the alcohol and spanking, and before long, you fall into a deep slumber.

Previous part / Masterlist / Next part

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #song fic #angst #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #smut

[thejujvtsupost]

Can i please request some wedding day headcanons for Gojo? Like how he proposes and the day itself and the honeymoon 👀 thank you ❤️

Gojo on Your Wedding Day

I have no idea how this got away from me honestly but here we are. I’ll do a separate post for an extra spicy honeymoon later but it ended up too cute and wholesome to add smut. Also this is from a western/American standpoint of wedding practices. I’m relatively familiar with ‘traditional’ ceremonies but not well versed in modern Japanese wedding practices. I know some people prefer traditional over modern/vice versa but I’m not knowledgeable enough on the specifics so I hope you don’t mind. <3

Notes: F!reader, marriage proposals, implied nsfw, nervous Gojo and lots of fluff.

For @joyfulenthusiastwitch

First of all, Gojo is such a boy fail.

Like seriously, a total boy fail. Asking you out was an accomplishment in itself- and you’re literally his closest friend. He’s all smooth and put together until it comes to romance. He tripped over his own feet and he stuttered.

The great Gojo Satoru, stuttered.

Of course you found that hilarious and struggled to not laugh at him- until he finished with “Will you date on me?” And you lost it. You nodded and agreed but you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

It’s okay though, because he was laughing with you. He built it up asking you out in his head so bad and you didn’t even hesitate. So he’s laughing with you and at himself, it’s just you after all, he doesn’t know why he was so worried.

You started a real relationship (his very first one!) after three dates. You laugh and learn, and you take things in stride together.

Gojo tries his hardest- too hard sometimes. He read somewhere that relationships shouldn’t have secrets and that resulted in him revealing every single secret about himself.

“I never wear my pants just once, I hardly ever do laundry and I reuse them to make them last- as long as there isn’t a stain.” -you tell him pretty much everyone wears their pants more than once. But to him it’s a secret because he grew up in such a prestigious clan and that wouldn’t be acceptable.

And “I don’t like washing my hands unless the soap is scent free. I’d rather use hand sanitizer.”

None of these things are necessary. You live together now, he does laundry and you already figured out his preference for scent free soaps after the bottle of pumpkin spice hand soap at your friend’s house made him gag. -He didn’t want to be called out for not washing his hands, anyone would be able to tell if he hadn’t because the scent was so strong.

Cut to three years later and he’s back at it again.

He doesn’t like keeping secrets from you. He took that too seriously and it stuck. But now he’s definitely keeping something from you and it’s irritating because you’ve never had to press him for anything. You’ve never felt like you were on the outside of an inside joke with him. And it goes from irritating to just hurtful when he comes home super late

“Sorry baby, I was hanging out with Nanami.”

Spent hours ring shopping because he’s picky and couldn’t find the perfect one.

You kept face, but you already asked Nanami where he was when you got worried and he said he hadn’t seen Gojo all day.

You know there’s a lot he can’t tell you, but he’s never kept personal secrets from you and this obviously was one.

You’re five seconds away from confronting him after he comes home four hours late without a heads up or a simple text. You aren’t controlling but he has a dangerous life and he always used to text you at least- and you were always understanding! You didn’t know what you did to be treated differently.

He’s got something behind his back and he’s sweating, and Gojo doesn’t sweat. You’re concerned more than anything else. Nothing else matters, you can be angry and hurt after you make sure he’s okay.

“Baby what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

You get up from the couch and reach out to touch his face but he dodges and refuses to let you get closer.

“Just hold on, please? I finally found it and I can’t wait any longer.”

“Wait for what toru?”

His breath hitches and you don’t know if he’s gonna start crying or hyperventilating or both. Then he’s on not one, but both knees in front of you. Again, boy fail.

So he’s struggling to get his words out but he’s determined. He found the perfect ring for you and he knows he should plan out how to ask but he can’t he needs you to wear it immediately- assuming you say yes. He needs everyone to know you’re his.

He’s always been a possessive man, he tries to hide it and be respectful. He just reinforces how cute you look in his clothes, prompting you to wear his hoodie to the grocery store and other little things. A ring is the ultimate “she’s taken” and he doesn’t even have to be present. Everyone will already know. (not that he doesn’t trust you!)

“So the relationship- our couple, is nice I think.”

You tilt your head because what the fuck is he even saying??

“I mean you’re really nice. And cute too. And you love me so that’s… nice.” He cringes and looks so pitiful.

You decide to throw him a bone. “Slow down, you sound like you’re having a stroke in kindergarten.” You get on your knees in front of him, getting on his level.

But no that’s not what’s supposed to happen! It’s not part of his plan! He’s supposed to be the only one on the floor- he scrambles to stand up and pulls you up with him, guiding you to the couch. Except… is that a ring box that he dropped nearby?

Then it clicks for you, and you feel giddy but you’re so fond of him. “I think you dropped something baby.” You point to the box on the floor and he groans.

“Aw fuck-” he picks it up and kneels at your feet, you hand in his and presents it to you- he’s not sure where his speech went but he’s looking up at you from the floor.

And that’s when he hits you with “Marry you me?” And then his head falls into your lap with another groan and several expletives.

Of course you lost your shit, laughing so hard you’re crying while running your fingers through his hair to reassure him. “Yeah, I’ll marry you me.” You managed to get out between giggles and he finally pulls back to look at you.

You’re smiling at him and his face is red- so red. He’s grumbling when he’s sliding the ring on your finger and then finally leaning forward to kiss you with his own smile.

Again, he’s not sure why he got himself so worked up. It’s just you, you’re his person. The anxiety, while worth it, was unnecessary.

And after the laughter he gets choked up, “I love you so much, so much.”

That night the bed needs replaced- because of reasons.

A year later you’re headed towards him down the aisle.

And during your vows he doesn’t stutter at all- he’s not nervous or shy about how much he loves you. Everyone already knows how down bad he is.

The wedding is relatively small, your dress is so beautiful and he thinks you look like a cloud.

When he tells you that little thought later on during the reception it results in: “Just because cloud are white doesn’t mean everything white is a cloud, Satoru.” He pouts, because obviously. But you just giggle and kiss him on the cheek.

And he’s honestly just so happy to be there with you- he was never one for “real relationships” and now he’s married.

He’s married to you.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #asks

[darkbluekies]

Dr Kry asks #4

Previous one

Concept: I've put multiple asks into one post to avoid too much loose posts on my account! This way, you have more to read too<3

Warnings: mentions of ed, otherwise the normal Dr Kry stuff

I wonder how Dr Kry would feel if his darling developed romantic for him but was waiting to leave the hospital to officially ask him out. They'll say stuff like "I can't wait to leave this hospital bed so we can finally have a proper date together !",  "I would love to go see [movie name] in the theaters with you!" Or "I'd love to be with you but once I get better I promise! You deserve more than the semi-vegetable that I currently am." I guess he'd be a little conflicted, would he let his darling free from the hospital so they can have a somewhat normal romantic relationship or would he keep them here ?

He'd let his darling get well because he doesn't want anything else than the traditional house hold and only keeps them ill because they're not complient. But if they actually do like him and see a future together, then he can begin to live out his dream.

How would dr Kry react to a coworker reader who figures out he’s been telling people they’re dating and tries to leave him?

He'd be flustered. You weren't supposed to figure it out, you weren't supposed to know! He'd try to justify his actions while making you feel bad for leaving him.

"But Y/N, please, I'm doing it for you. If people think that we're together they'll not bother you. I've seen how people eye you in the corridor. It's disgusting. I'm just trying to help, so please don't leave. It hurts my feelings. I'm just trying to help ..."

He might say that you're pretending now, but he'll fake it til he makes it.

At this point I’ll let Dr kry talk for me,like yes please finish of my setences Cuase sometimes words are hard and it’s hard to speak so that sounds amazing

Careful, he will do it. As long as you're around other people, he'll finish your sentences, but he'd like for you to talk to him when you're alone. He loves to hear your voice so much.

I remember when you said that Dr Kry would worsen the toxic air purifier if we ignore him till it hurts too much, me personally I'm petty as hell, he'd have to see me DIE before I speak to him because thats what he gets, I'm petty to the death ✊

I- .... i don't know what to say.

My headcanon voice for Dr. Kry is Sammy Lawrence from Bendy and the Ink Machine.

Omg, you are so big brain. I would say his voice is a tad bit lighter in my head, but other that that, damn.

Does dr. Kry bathe reader or he only does if the reader is very sick?

He does it all the time. Since the reader is too weak and dizzy and everything from the poison 24/7, he doesn't trust them. They could hurt themselves in there. Besides, he likes being able to take care of the reader in every aspect. This is the closest he'll come to their nudity without it being uncomfortable for him.

Would Dr. Kry let the reader customize their hospital room if they asked nicely?

Of course! If he knows that they're okay with being there (and even fix the room to their liking) then it'll just make him happy!

do you think kry would treat darling differently if she has an ED and won’t eat much?i have an ED and just wanted to see how my favorite boy might take it :’) feel free to ignore lol

He will. Every action will be calculated and well thought out to make you calmer and more open to try to eat. He won't force you, but he'll encourage you. He's studied this, he knows how dangerous something like this can be. And that's why he wants to help you as much as possible.

Me whose been sick for 3 weeks with an awful cough and body pains. "Please dr kry come kidnap me..just wanna sleep and not work"Have been working weekends with my sick body because the boss doesn't give sick leave for flu

Careful, he will do it.

I love dr kry but he drinks coffee all the time so his breath probably STANKS. Hes a 10 but he has constant coffee breath.

Well DUH HE IS A COFFEIN ADDICT. don't bully him :(

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x reader #yandere doctor #yandere male #yandere asks

[lennadanvers]

Pure Imagination: braiding his hair

This has been sitting in my drafts for too ling and I'm not sure how much I like it anymore. Still, Eddie is a smol overstimulated boy with sensory issues and he deserves comfort. Thanks for reading, please consider reblogging and/or commenting on top of liking, it makes me kick my feet and squeak.

Sometimes, Eddie hurts himself. Not physically, but his head just spits horrible thoughts at him. He has to find something to soothe the hurt.

On days like that, he gets easily frustrated. He opens the cabinets, and there is no coffee left. He goes out and the van doesn’t turn on until after the fifth try. The store is closed- he doesn’t even take the time to read why in the little note hanging by the door.

When he gets home, he takes a shower, maybe that’ll make him feel better. It doesn’t. Eddie comes out of the bathroom with his hair all tangled and dripping down the back of his t-shirt. He’s frustrated, angry just because, tired and wants to punch his bed until it’s all out. But he’s learned that it won’t fix anything.

So he closes his eyes and drops the towel next to his bare feet. Takes a deep breath. In. His eyebrows relax, his shoulders go down. Out. His belly goes soft.

Your hands hold his. Thumbs going in circles, you ground him. In. Out. You breathe with him. Eddie can feel the air that leaves you caressing his neck. He sighs.

“Come on, Eddie” you direct him to his bed. “Sit down here. I’ll take care of it, it'll be alright.”

He knows.

Eddie does as the invisible version of you says. He bows and lets his body fall on the floor, back against his bed. He shivers when he feels the rough carpet scratching his thighs. It’s almost worse than the jeans he chose not to put on. At least he’s wearing boxers.

He bites his lip. In. Out.

Eddie raises his your hand and lets it softly fall on top of the wet mess that is currently his head. In. Out. You’re sitting on his bed, behind him. It feels like you’re caressing his hair more than detangling it. One curl at a time. He focuses on you.

Eddie finds your smell comforting. Sometimes he feels like a creep for thinking about it. For knowing your scent. But it was a huge help, back in school. When Eddie was having a bad day, he prayed he would walk past you in the hallways at Hawkins High. If he had class with you that day, Eddie knew he was saved.

He'd sit as close to you as possible. When Eddie he's having a bad day, it’s like his senses are heightened; so it was usually enough. He’d close his eyes, trying to ignore the awful yellow of the lights, the way his skin was crawling under his jeans, the screeching of chairs, the teenage laughs and any disgusting high school smell. Except yours, of course, that wasn’t disgusting at all. It was subtle. Soft. Not overwhelming, unlike literally everything else. Calming. Warm. Quiet.

When the world was horrible, rough, when it felt like his skin was raw and the noise made his nerves stand on edge, your smell was like a calming bubble. A balm for his soul. Maybe you didn’t really wear perfume, he isn’t sure, even after all these years. Maybe it was just your lotion, your conditioner, you. He had never been able to find either of those at the supermarket.

Your scent was a shelter for his stray senses. He used to spend the whole class calming down. After breathing you in, he felt like a person again. Like he was the owner of his own body.

Surviving the day after that was easy. He was horribly tired, of course, but felt a soft relaxation.

That’s what Eddie is desperate to feel now.

The detangling starts at the end of his hair, little droplets of water falling all over him (in, out). Fingers getting caught on small knots, gentle pulling, soft caress. One strand free. Wet skin, soft hair; in, out, another strand. Eddie slowly melts against whatever surface is there to carry his weight. The bed behind him is soft, it could easily be mistaken for your legs. And the hum of the neighbor’s AC sounds like your voice whispering something. Yes, definitely. Fingers, water, strand. In. Out.

Once his damp hair is (mostly) free of unnerving knots and falling over Eddie’s shoulders (in, out), it is separated on three wavy strands. You know how keeping it tied up in buns or ponytails bothers him sometimes. How the weight of his hair on top of his thoughts is just too much. In and out; your patient hands are braiding his hair away. Finally, it’s not dripping anymore. His shoulders are free. Eddie sighs.

Your perfect hands finish the braid and he’s never felt more thankful. He lets his body fall to the side and his cheek lands on the bed your lap, where it’s soft and safe. Eddie falls asleep like that. The next time he sees you (at the grocery store parking lot, are you in town just for the holidays?), Eddie has to stop himself from shouting “Thank you, mighty lady!” out of his van’s window.

Pure Imagination Masterlist

Taglist: @hellfirenacht @whataboutbibi @daisyridleyss

#eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson #fanfiction #stranger things #lennadanvers #pure imagination

[specialagentlokitty]

Wanda x reader - the small things

PLEASE imagine Wanda with mother figure reader who loves to braid hair and one time reader just starts doing Wanda's hair and Wanda starts tearing up because she never really got to feel a mother's love, so reader just comforts her and make a habit of always doing Wanda's hair... - @azeal-peal 💜

Walking into the compound, you made your way over to the meeting room, pushing the door open and you smiled at Wanda who were sat there waiting.

“Hey, sorry for the wait. I had to pick up a few things for the others, and I’ve got you breakfast.”

Wanda smiled at you as you set the bag down in front of her.

She opened it to take out her breakfast and you sat down opposite her, picking up the file that was sat there waiting for you.

“So, as you’re aware your training and improvement fall under me.”

Wanda nodded her head, setting her drink down.

“I remember. Can I ask why?”

You smiled at her.

“My power allows me to absorb the impact of whatever’s been thrown at me. In doing this I can also analyse their power and turn it into my own temporarily if I wanted to.”

Wanda nodded her head in understanding.

“Does it not hurt?”

“No, sometimes it’s exhausting especially if I absorb a lot of power, but in most cases it’s not all that bad.”

You turned your attention back to the file in your hands, flicking through some of the papers that were in there.

They were all your hired that you had been making, along with some from Fury, things he wanted you to ensure Wanda was trained in or to assess to make sure she would be safe in missions.

You set the file back down.

“For now I suggest you take a small break, a week should be long enough. You’ve been pushing yourself really hard recently.”

“I can keep going.”

“No, it’s important that you rest. Never push yourself past your limit, it can be dangerous.”

You stood up, turning to the screen.

“Jarvis please show us the recent training sessions.”

While the AI was showing the training sessions you were explaining to Wanda how to tell where her weak points were.

You were explaining everything to her in great detail.

It was belittling her like the used to do in Hydra, you were kind about it, giving her numerous options to choose from instead of demanding she just do it one way.

You were patient with her as well when it came to asking questions to try understand what it was you were looking for.

While you weee talking you walked behind her, and Wanda felt you run your fingers through her hair, and you began to braid it while talking.

What made you stop was the sound of her sniffling and immediately you stopped and sat next to to her, pacing your hand on her arm.

“Wanda what is it?”

She sniffled a little bit.

“You’re so nice…” she whispered.

You laughed softly, bringing your hand up so you could wipe away her tears for her.

“Come here.”

You held your hands out and hugged her tightly, running your hand up and down her back, letting her cry into your shoulder.

After a few minutes she pulled away, and you smiled softly at her.

“I’ll stop if you want?”

She quickly shook her head.

“Please don’t! I uh.. I like it… it’s like when a mom does your hair as a child…”

You smiled at her, standing behind her once more so you could carry on braiding her hair for her.

After that point you started seeking Wanda out just so you could braid her hair every day, you would spend time just braiding her hair and talking to her.

Wanda loved this time that she spent with you, and just like tonight she was looking for you so that you could braid her hair for you.

Finally she found you in your room.

“Hey Wanda, what’s up?” You asked.

“Could you braid my hair?” She asked.

You grinned brightly, and you set your book down, patting the spot on the bed in front of you.

Wanda rushed over and sat down with her back in front of you, handing you her hairbrush so you could brush her hair first.

“So, tell me about your day.” You said.

Wanda began excitedly telling you all about her day and what she had been doing.

You happily listened.

“Oh, I found a new cafe. It sells amazing coffee, I know you prefer tea, and they do that too. Will you come with me next time?” She asked.

Setting the brush down, you began working your fingers through her hair to get ready to braid it.

“Of course I will, I actually found a place that sells foreign snacks. I thought you’d like to come with me so we can find some you grew up with and try them.”

“Oh wow really? I’d love that.”

“Perfect, we’ll go tomorrow. For now, pick a movie.”

You handed her your TV remote and she went looking through the movies you had available.

Wanda loved being around you, because you were essentially her mom now.

Everything she never had the chance to with her own mom you did with her, and you taught her everything she didn’t know.

She noticed you were a mother to everyone, even to Tony, he would always listen to you no matter what it was about he would always stop and listen.

You were the avengers mom, you were her mom

#marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel x y/n #marvel imagine #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine

[clangenrising]

Month 12 - Leafbare

The sun was warm and strong over Smokyrose’s fur. Laid out on the stone of the warriors’ den, belly full, with her kits splayed out with their heads resting on her side, she felt like those sunbeams were filled with pure joy. It was so rare that she got to spend time with the girls like this, meaning Fogkit wasn’t running around and asking a million questions. As much as she adored her daughter’s curiosity and energy, she wasn’t a young queen anymore and she was much better suited to activities like this.

Purring, she rolled over to let her belly get some sun. Fogkit and Slatekit readjusted. Fogkit yawned and stretched her legs out, shrimp-like. Slatekit mewled softly and pulled herself closer, burrowing her face firmly into her mother’s fur. Smiling, Smokyrose reached over with a paw to help tuck Slatekit against her side. 

After a moment, Slatekit spoke. “Hey… Mama?” Smokyrose opened one eye and twisted her head enough to look at her daughter who was staring at her with big, golden eyes. 

“Yes, my darling?” she purred in reply.

“Um…” Slatekit tucked her chin shyly, hesitating on the words, then asked, “Is daddy evil?” Smokyrose’s purr died in her chest. That was not the question she had been anticipating. 

“Uh, no. No, honey, he’s not evil.” She said, voice unsteady. 

“But um,” Slatekit chewed her lip. “I heard Sparrowpaw say that he had to fight him. Don’t warriors only fight bad guys?” 

“I see,” Smokyrose said sadly. She sat up, curling her tail over Slatekit to reassure her. She supposed this conversation was inevitable, as much as she had hoped never to have it. “It’s… complicated, but I’ll try to explain it, okay?” 

Slatekit nodded mutely and Smokyrose continued. “Warriors fight to protect their Clan, right?” Slatekit nodded again. “So sometimes they fight foxes or badgers but sometimes they also fight the other Clans.” 

“Really?” asked Slatekit.

“Mhm,” Nodded Smokyrose. “And the other Clans aren’t made up of bad guys, are they?” 

“No,” Slatekit shook her head. 

“That’s right.” 

Slatekit shifted, lips pursed in confusion. “But, so… why do they fight them then? Isn’t that bad?” 

Smokyrose sighed a little, a smile on her face. “Sadly, not everything is good or bad. Sometimes it's neither or a little bit of both. Sometimes warriors fight the other Clans because they need food or because they’re scared or because they get angry.”

“But you’re not supposed to do fights when you’re angry,” Slatekit’s brows furrowed deeper. She seemed on the verge of tears. “You’re supposed to go take some breathing time and then talk about it!” 

“That’s right,” Smokyrose smiled, proud of her little girl, “but people don’t always do what they’re supposed to do. As a mediator, it’s my job to try and help them remember to talk about things instead of fighting but that doesn’t always work. Sometimes one side wants to talk but the other side is too angry and just wants to fight and so we have to fight them.” 

“Is that what happened with daddy?” 

Smokyrose swallowed and took a moment to collect her thoughts. “Not exactly. See…” She paused. How did she explain to her perfect, precious daughter that some cats didn’t care if they hurt other people? That most cruelty was born from indifference? That some of the rogues likely didn’t have a choice to fight or not?

“The city cats who are in charge don’t want to talk about things with us, but that doesn’t mean that all of the cats feel that way. The Code says that warriors have to listen to their leader, right?”

“Yeah,” said Slatekit.

“Well, it's the same for the city cats,” Smokyrose said. “Their leader wants to fight so they have to fight us. Your father is just following the rules of where he’s from. That doesn’t mean that what he does is okay, but it does explain it, just like how Fogkit being hungry doesn’t mean it's okay for her to be snippy but it explains why she feels that way. Does that make sense?” 

“I guess…” Slatekit frowned and turned her gaze into Smokyrose’s fur. 

“It’s okay if it doesn’t,” she said. “Sometimes cats do things that are confusing. Your father was really, really nice to me and then he just stopped talking to me. It made me feel really confused but he probably has reasons for why he did those things.” 

“But that’s mean,” Slatekit pouted. “Doesn’t he love you?” 

Smokyrose swallowed thickly. “I don’t know, sweetheart.” 

“Have you asked him?” Slatekit tilted her gaze up again. 

“No, I haven’t had the chance.” 

“You should ask him!” Slatekit squeaked. “You’re always saying that you have to talk about things instead of keeping them all quiet inside! Maybe if you talked to him he would come and stay with us.” 

Smokyrose felt her chest squeeze tightly. “Oh, Slatekit,” she sighed, giving her daughter a few licks over the ears. “It’s not that simple.” 

“Why not?!” Slatekit squeaked, starting to cry. 

Fogkit stirred and sat up with a worried frown. “What’s wrong?” she asked, getting up to wrap Slatekit in a hug. “Slatekit, don’t be sad!”

“It’s okay, Fogkit,” Smokyrose gave her a few licks as well. “Remember, it's okay for people to be sad. We need to respect what Slatekit is feeling and support her.” 

Slatekit was weeping openly now, her little body racked with tiny sniffles and sobs. Fogkit gave her a tighter hug but she screamed and started to struggle. 

Smokyrose leaned down and picked Fogkit up by the scruff, pulling her away. “Hey, let’s give her some space, okay?” Slatekit buried her face in Smokyrose’s side and let out a long, keening wail, the kind that you gave when you wanted everyone to hear how miserable you were. 

Fogkit pouted worriedly. “I’m just trying to help!” 

“I know,” Smokyrose said, “but she needs space right now. We have to remember to respect her boundaries.” 

“Okay,” Fogkit frowned. 

Relieved that that was settled, Smokyrose turned her attention back to Slatekit. “I’m sorry you’re feeling so sad, honey,” she said gently. “Do you want anything to make you feel better or do you just need to cry?” 

Slatekit sniffled pitifully and said, “Maybe just you to hold me gentle?” 

“I can do that, sweetheart,” Smokyrose said, curling into a ball around her daughter with a comforting purr. Fogkit nuzzled into her mother’s side so that she could watch Slatekit’s face, tail twitching anxiously. Smokyrose sighed and closed her eyes. She wanted nothing more than to put Slatekit at ease, to bring Ghost back and have him be a model father to her girls. She wished that things were simple. 

But I haven’t talked to him about it at all, she thought. What if there’s something I don’t understand? If he’s as important as they say, maybe I could get him to listen! Maybe we could put an end to the fighting!

A tenuous strand of hope started to tug at her excitedly. With the kits, she had been out of work during the critical start of their interactions with the city cats. Would things have been different if she had put her mediator skills to the test? Could an open conversation possibly resolve the conflict without further bloodshed? A kittypet was dead. That definitely made her job more difficult, but at the very least, maybe they could agree on terms for the fighting to cease. 

She turned the thoughts over in her mind, tried to remember everything she could about the conflict’s details, and tried to make a plan for negotiations as she held her daughter close until she had cried all of her tears.

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #Smokyrose #Ghost #Leafbare #clangenrising #Fogpaw #Slatepaw