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#why do people think that I care if they like my neighbor
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My redneck neighbor Doug on 'Into the Breach'
Sorry, been busy with work and life and so has Doug.
Now, let's get onto the next episode, 'Into the Breach'.
CW: Pretty chill, by Doug's standards.
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Episode 13: ''Johnny Cash would be Proud''
Welp, sometimes, you gotta go where you’re wanted. And for Little Orphan Blondie, she’s back at the Museum of Science and Industry, now doing shitty puzzles with the Jedi babies. I really do hope Gun Safety Muppet sat on one of his own guns after that bullshit, hate that blue puppet fucker. 
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At least the little pink girl got to keep her souvenir doll from the gift shop that Stepsister Beth . I hope these babies are going around and stealing from the storage. I would. 
Church Lady left these guys in a shitty parking lot. Ha! Time waits for no man and she’s got a potluck with Sassy Park Ranger to prep for. 
Aw hell yeah! My boy Toaster Strudel showing up in a stolen work van. And Daddy Warcrimes and his boyfriend MBA Rob are wondering if there’s yet another sobbing family stuffed in the trunk they can ransom once they cross the border. Never change, you two. 
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God MBA Rob looks and TALKS just like my asshole nephew. Ugh. “Do you think I’m lying?” “Yes!” 
Wow, Daddy Warcrimes and Julio ain’t taking no one’s shit. My boys!
Toaster Strudel even went into the Empire’s dumpster and yanked out an imperial uniform and forcing MBA Rob’s scruffy ass into it. Or maybe he hooked up with one and stole his clothes. Didn’t take Toaster Strudel for that but hey I don’t judge, that’s for Jesus and your God to do now ya know. 
(“Wait, that Echo likes dudes?”
“No, that he steals from people he’s banged. Come on now Meat Muffin, why you gotta be prejudiced and stuff, we got laws now, ain’t you seen Brokeback Mountain?”)
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Oh, Stepsister Beth is on the struggle bus. Come ON, Stepsister Beth, start chatting with some of those other clones can get these babies out of here! Why all the male scientists got them windowless van mustaches? 
Scientist with bangs is a real bitch. Don’t like her. 
Look at Little Orphan Blondie plotting her way out of the Museum of Science and Industry! 
Oooh my boys going all Johnny Cash with the BLACK! Love it! And MBA Rob trimmed his ass down, looks like My Wife’s First Love in Star Trek, gotta give it to him, good look.
(“I’m assuming that’s Will Riker?”
“Yeah, Captain Picard’s Number 1.”
“Why not call him Riker since you know who he is?”
“My wife told me I’m not allowed.”
“....I’m not asking anymore.”)
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MBA Rob’s super power is being a wild asshole. Ya know, that’s not always a bad thing. Man, he’s good at this. Ah, there’s Daddy Rambo shooting Stormtrooper dingbats and Toaster Strudel doing a thing. 
There’s Julio checking out the ladies on his cell phone. Wonder which lady he’s texting, lay that pipe where you can, brother. 
Is Toaster Strudel wearing jeans? Oh who cares–look at my boy kicking ass! Being all 007! Man, hope Alex-from-Manitoba is watching from heaven, proud of his boy! 
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(Alex-from-Manitoba is Fives?!)
Julio fires up the stolen work truck, and off they go! Will they make it? Will they make it?! Come on, Daddy Rambo! Turn on some Folsom Prison Blues, you got this! 
Even Daddy Warcrimes knows that Toaster Strudel’s on it. No wonder they gotta sideline Toaster Strudel like this, when he comes on shift everything works. Dang. 
Woah! There they go! My boys! And Little Orphan Blondie! Woah! 
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Tagging my Cajun neighbor's fans! @skellymom @megmca @amalthiaph @cdblake1565 @sued134 @isthereanechoinhere96
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husband · 1 month
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I took her to the Vet for a check up/fecal test and yeah she did have worms :) and then when I got home my neighbor called and said her owners where posting on nextdoor looking for her, so thankfully she wasn't one of the byb dumped dogs but i still think it's weird to have left a malamute puppy outside in the Texas heat with fleas and worms while you're at work all day.. we found her early in the morning and they weren't home and posting about her missing till nearly 12am.
anyway we gave her back to her owners after the vet... hope not to see her running around in the streets again because this is the 2nd or 3rd time shes been seen running around the neighborhood. unreal.
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gender-euphowrya · 2 months
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honestly it's just so weird that the whole outrage over trans people existing in public has given people the idea that it's okay now for them to completely stare at and scrutinize and study every inch of other people in public bathrooms
like whatever happened to walk in, find an available stall, do your business, wash your hands, leave
when has "take a second to analyze every other person in the bathroom" become a new step
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skrunksthatwunk · 3 months
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not to doomer post. but. american politics is like here's a conservative warmonger who wants to burn you alive personally and here's a different conservative warmonger who definitely wouldn't stop someone from burning you alive BUT who might raise the minimum wage by $0.30/hour for you, but only like eight years from now (so re-elect me please!! >w<). yes one of them has to be president they are the only two options we'll let you have. no neither of them will stop the government from killing you or anyone else, but at least one will say "it's kind of bad to kill people :( someone should really do something about that..." while giving the people-killers $20,000,000,000,000 to keep doing it then saying they can't afford to help you at all, but oh shucks, maybe next cycle, if you vote for me again! and also everyone will pretend as though they are extremely different political entities covering two highly polarized ends of the political spectrum despite nearly identical policy views obscured by their slightly different ways of addressing their target audiences, many of whom are also conservative warmongers. and also if you don't vote or vote third party the other guy will win and you will watch as they burn everyone you love alive in the same way they've burned so many strangers so you kind of feel like you have to vote for the other warmonger because even though they both have blood on their hands you'll take a handshake over an uppercut. even if you can still see the bodies piling up behind them. even if you can only save like five people you know and not the thousands of people who are dying in the other room. because you believe the difference between 30,000 and 30,005 is still worth it even though no one needed to die in the first place and no one seems to agree with you. you have to keep living in this world every day. if anything changes it will take decades and it will never be enough. if this takes a toll on you good fucking luck surviving off the generosity of the warmonger state that claims to serve you. happy voting!!
#like. yeah i'll take the raised minimum wage. i guess. but jesus christ#yes you are doing slightly good things sometimes almost. can you stop killing people though. please. that is a higher priority#like this is my first prezzy election season since i turned voting age right and like. what the fuck am i supposed to do now#what am i supposed to do with this. it took me 5 fucking months to pick a dead cockroach off my floor how am i supposed to fix this.#how am i meant to be a person and go on living while knowing i am doing nothing and cannot do anything and won't do anything#i need to fight i need to get up but i am stuck. im always stuck. i pray yknow. i don't know what else to do#how can people think about buying houses and getting promotions in this world. how are they not feeling likr their chest is caving in every#time they falter in their complex self-distraction. how am i supposed to do anything when all i can think about is helping and my body won't#let me. i cant do anything i cant but i have to but i cant. im supposed to and im a bad person if i dont and i cant live like that.#and if i am too upset about that i am punished for it by the people around me and ignored by those in power if not punished as well.#i love the world. i love people. you motherfuckers are killing everything and im not stopping you and you're getting in the way of me loving#the life i was built to love and i can't understand why you think it's even thinkable to do what you're doing. or what im doing.#i just want to look at clovers and paint and be good to my neighbors but you won't stop fucking murdering people in front of me#and i can't fucking do anything. i cant take care of the people i love i can't carry my own weight i can't take care of myself i can't move#and im supposed to fucking file taxes? to fund mass slaughter? on the off chance it might go to welfare or something. god.#i hate it here i hate it here america is a fucking nightmare it is hell i can't stand it but if i leave im just running and saving myself#whch is selfsh and cruel and so i would never be able to escape the feeling and i would always be in american hell because it' a part of me#but if i stay i cannot do anything because my body is filled with smoke and broken glass and im supposed to fucking get my drivers license#so i can buy groceries or get a job so i can keep myself on life support watching everything get worse and worse around me#and knowing that nothing has ever been good here and ive been lied to forever and im still being lied to#and i am in hell.#and me dying won't fix it and me living won't fix it ans both are too painful to even consider.#i am drowning i am drowning i am drowning i am drowning and my skin is on fire im on fire and i want to have children. but i can't imagine#doing that to someone. oh my god. and to raise them and watch them come to understand what this place ive brought them to is#that ive raised them in a slaughterhouse and to feebly try to show them the clovers and the ducks and the baby shoes and teach them to love#when maybe that love of the world is a distraction. or maybe i use it as one. i think of the blood as an obstacle to love and joy but maybe#i would not love the world so much if i was not so constantly desperately scared and ashamed of living in it#and i am a very lucky person. my life is cushy and i want to rip my skin off because what does that matter when it doesnt let me help people#god help me. but help the rest of them first. but i am helped first anyway and i hate it. i dont. i cant. god.#nyarla dni
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A Week (He Will Take You)
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Danny moved to Gotham for school, while there he noticed that Gotham's ambient ecto was really murky for lack of a better word.
This didn't really affect him too much besides a mild headache every once in a while but that also just might be stress from all his school work so maybe not.
Anyway
This murky ecto seemed to effect the people who lived there or more importantly the ghosts,
They were visible to the human eye like most ghosts back in Amity but instead of looking very much like a ghost they still looked like humans if a bit off putting.
They all seemed to be continuing their normal lives as if still fully alive, with the people around them none the wiser.
Danny noticed this and began approaching them to figure out what was going on.
Apparently the murky ecto in the city had made it so that they were strong enough to still continue a somewhat normal life but not be able to cross over to the GZ.
In other words they were stuck in Gotham
Danny was the Ghost King so he could easily fix this problem, all he needed to do was give them a bit of pure ecto for around a week to fully stabilize them them then he would just open a portal into the GZ and they could cross over with all their things also transferring into the GZ for their new haunt.
Unfortunately this looked rather worrying to an outsider,
Imagine you're used to your neighbor being very outgoing so you and others see them a lot suddenly this man seems to appear in their life out of nowhere an at exactly one week, your neighbor and all their belongings in their home disappear no trace to be found.
You tell people and they begin saying the same story they knew someone and them a man with black hair and blue eyes appeared in their life, then they and all their things disappear in exactly one week.
Of course the police in Gotham do the bare minimum so they're no help.
But it starts to begin a trend, especially online.
"Oh careful or the blue eyed man will make you disappear in a week"
This of course after time catches the bats attention, Gordon had already given them all the information he had.
"Young adult early twenties, dark hair, blue eyes"
That was it.
The bats look into it and from their point of view Danny is a serial killer.
But they can't find the connection between all of his victims, they range from young children and the elderly from different backgrounds absolutely no connection,
Worrying enough he doesn't just make one person disappear he has taken entire families up to over a dozen, without anyone figuring out how he's doing it or why at all.
The disturbing thing also being that he seems to take everything in their home, leaving it like it has always been empty
Like no one had been living in it.
People have tried to take photos of Danny get some kind of evidence of his existence, but when they try to do it, it either comes out completely corrupted or their devise simply shuts down fully.
Danny of course has no clue what is happening he's just happy that he's able to help so many ghosts, and is trying not to fail his exams.
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Danny leaving the house he just helped: "That went easier than I expected!"
Neighbor peeking from the window: "Shit it's that guy! "
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Red Hood marching down into the cave: " The fucker took many from my territory without me even realizing it!"
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Tim: "I'm pretty sure his kill count is nearing the hundreds and he just started like maybe 4 months ago, this is bad."
Barbara: " I think I got a theory, this matches up with the new school year beginning so maybe their not a Gotham native which narrows down my suspect list."
Bruce: "Hn."
Tim: "Yes thank you B for the insightful commentary"
~
Danny trying not to fall asleep while on his way to class: "Strange I keep seeing shadows following me, oh well must be the stress!"
Bats who are pretty sure Danny is the killer: "Has he done anything suspicious yet?"
~
Just an Idea
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wonryllis · 2 months
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daddy issues, my little girl (m) | park jongseong.
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﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹,
preview. you had always had daddy issues, for as long as you could remember. so when jay came along with his caring nature, how could you possibly keep your feelings at bay? not to forget, your roses of love have wilted long before you even knew what love meant but jay, he’s here at your doorstep with a watering can. will you be able to refuse?
or where, new neighbor dr jay park is asked to babysit you over the week. ironically the only man you have ever had a crush on. you are so determined to put aside the feelings but jay makes things so much harder. he is way too sweet and caring and you are way too pessimistic and insecure. how is it going to work with you gravitating towards him in inadvertence and jay welcoming your presence with candor radiance? especially with all of your buried issues coming to life more than ever. false hopes and reserved secrets, reluctant truths and feelings that linger deep. he is right there, two doors away to reach. so why is it that love still feels so far?
meet the cast. daddy park jongseong(jay) with his doll fem!reader
genre. neighbour to lovers, age gap (like 7 years), romance, SMUT MDNI!!, comfort angst, fluff, happy ending, doctor(might change that)!jay with his precious girl. jay literally always at his girl's beck and call, he cares about you a lottttt trope. the "i know you can do it, but let me do it for you" trope. kinda ddlg concept idk? he's like your pillar, comfort person and just everything you have ever needed. practically your dream man come to life. subject to additions later on.
word count. 18-19k so far, est around 35k revamp + second installment.
warnings. DARK THEMES: hints of: daddy issues, attachment anxiety, inferiority complex, abandonment issues, depression, childhood emotional neglect, philophobia, insomnia, social anxiety, hints at emotional/psychological abuse, gaslighting, hints at being suicidal, people pleaser syndrome, mommy issues, thantophobia, atelophobia, atychiphobia, pistanthrophobia, avoidant personality disorder, body dysmorphia. more could be added on release and nsfw warnings will be mentioned in full fic.
theme song. daddy issues by the neighborhood and future by red velvet. on the side you can listen to: love letter by bolbbalgan4, adore you by harry styles, pacify her by melanie martinez, cool kids by echosmith, your existence by wonstein, teenage dreams by katy perry ..
RELEASING. TBD, progress ! 57%
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"i’m home!” slipping off your converse, you put the pair inside the shoe cabinet near the entrance and close the wooden door in a sigh before trudging in. the lights in the living room are dimmed, something your parents would never do. it catches you a tad bit off guard but nevertheless you try not to think too much. considering the silence surrounding you they most definitely are out for work and as usual forgot to turn off the lights. with cautious steps you walk futher inside, with all intention to sneak in a pack of chips from the kitchen like a thief even though at this point you’ve practically come to the conclusion you’re home alone, but one can never be too careful.
a cat like shriek leaves you when your eyes land on the back of a figure sitting on the couch, your phone almost slipping through the grasp of your fingers as your eyes widen in shock. startled, your heart more or less stopping in a screeching brake for a split second.
the man visibly flinches at the sound of your voice,“who are you?!-” standing up and turning around to face you,“jay?”
“god y/n, you’re gonna make me deaf,” he complains, face contorting into a tender, teasing expression; a small smile gracing his lips as he walks around the couch and leans against the top of the backrest. you watch as he looks at you, so softly that it makes you wonder, has anyone ever in your entire life looked at you like that? a look radiating such gentleness. maybe not, not until now that is.
“you got home early today, i thought you’d be out for two more hours?” his brows raise in a questioning manner as his gaze shifts to go over the time showing on your living room clock.
“uh, well i was working on a project the last few days but i finished it yesterday so,” you speak unsure if you should even be telling him this instead of asking what he’s doing in here.
“oh okay, that’s good,” taking off his overcoat he walks into the kitchen, folding up his dress shirt’s sleeves on the way,“what do you want for lunch then? do you want to eat takeout? or should i cook you something? you must be hungry,” he takes out a bottle of cold water from the fridge and pours in a glass for you, sliding the cup on the countertop towards you as you approach the space in hesitant and confused steps.
his questions dumbfound you, leaving your brain at a loss, still dazed from his presence before you,“what? why are you asking me that? and what are you doing in my house?” you ask, looking completely clueless when jay turns to look at you expecting it to be some kind of a sarcastic remark. but the lost look in your eyes has him surrendering even if it does turn out to be some joke.
“taking care of you,” jay smiles, straightening his posture in an upright position and moving closer to the counter across which you stand,“technically, babysitting,”
“babysitting? me? but,” it baffles you, is this some prank or are you supposed to know something you don’t? your mind’s mechanical gears slow down, friction arising in between them. you don’t remember anything regarding or relating to the term babysitting. there’s no way he’s serious.. right?
“doll, didn’t your parents tell you they’re gonna be out on a business trip for a week? they asked me to look after you while they’re gone,” what.
yes these past few days when you couldn’t catch a hidden, one-sided glimpse of him in the elevator you did feel weird. and you definitely did subconsciously wish to run across him again, even though you were on a mission to avoid him, but this; this is not what you would’ve liked, this is not what you wanted. this is far from what you can handle, what your messed up self can accept.
“no?” the look on your face has jay almost spilling a laugh, the way your features contort to a whiny crying expression. how cute. he thinks.
“that’s okay, now you know,” trying to imitate you, he scrushes up his nose in a slight pout, reaching out to pat your head twice. and there goes your heart. you never thought you’d like head pats this much, you only remember getting them twice from your father but it felt different. it used to annoy you because he would mess up your hair but the way jay caressed your head it felt you had accomplished something, so gentle and careful yet still close to a ruffle.
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taglist ( open. ) @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @lheebra @boyfhee @defnotfertilizedtoesw @brownsugarbaybee @skylaly @sparklovespink @luvyouchuu @ming-h0e @cha0thicpisces @butterflywonie @kgneptun @haechansbbg @m3chigo @wonsbaer @woncine @eneiyri @siyen @wonyoungsvirus @heesquared @enhafim22 @velvtcherie @ineedsomezzz @simjyunnie @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @wonkifangirl @sweetwonieee @luvnicho @fakeuwus @sunpov @notevenheretbh1 @kaykay11sworld @saurxcream @shawnyle @monstaxdirtywonk @wannieepisod @woozixo @sophi-ee @rikiwaify-blog @fluerz @iselltulips @belowbun @yunjinsbbg @enhasnuggles @enhaswirlds @enhastolemyheart @jooniesbears-blog
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radioisntdead · 18 days
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Good evening folks! Here's a drabble I wrote as a warm up, not my best work but it's short And it was written at three am, Enjoy!
The radio man's Wife
Alastor x female reader
Warnings:
Human Alastor, murder, Not much Alastor in here but he's here, victim blaming the dead people
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You could ask anyone who had met her and they would tell you that The local radio host's wife was the sweetest person they had ever met, a real angel on earth, she'd help out her neighbors, delivering fresh baked goods to those in need, she'd help take care of the neighborhood kids while their parents got away for a night,
She was a saint, who was to know that she had married a monster? She was just another unwilling victim right?
After all,
She was just so kind!
but even those who appear kind could do the cruelest of things, sweet words secretly drenched in venom, dressed in soft unsuspecting colors, her eyes that held nothing but fondness for the person she married and distain for those who stood against him, for those who ran his name through the mud.
She'd gleefully turn a blind eye to the wicked acts he did, being nothing but a bystander, at most she threw a few sickly sweet words to the victims that left them feeling sick to the pits of their stomaches before they perished.
She'd clean up any remaining mess he left behind, making any leftover carnage into fertilizer for her beautiful garden, mopping up the blood stained floors, or digging up a deep grave in the nearby woods for him to drag a body or two into.
She willingly laid next to someone who had countless people's blood on his hands, she'd give nothing but a love-filled smile at him,
She'd dance with a repeat murderer while soft jazz played on the radio each night after dinner, after the dishes were done and dried He'd take her hand and they'd dance.
She'd give a small kiss on the cheek, telling him to stay safe and leave him to his business slaughtering folks.
After all they deserved it right? They weren't truly good folks, Her and her dear Alastor believed ? that wholeheartedly, and Honestly it's their own fault for being easy targets
Right?
No one would believe you if you told them beforehand that the charming radio host, Alastor was a cold blooded murderer who had claimed multiple lives,
After all he was so charming, always with that smile on his face that could make anyone swoon, although you could never exactly know what he was thinking, people adored his voice and his radioshow where he'd play the tunes of the time, and briefly speak about the recent disappearances of people, telling everyone to stay safe.
It's truly the charming ones you should look out for.
It was only revealed when someone hunting in the dead of night mistook her dearest Alastor for a deer, shooting him swiftly through the head, killing him almost instantly, leaving him to be bitten and torn by man's best friend.
The phonecall she got when it was discovered was heart wrenching,
Her beloved Radio host went from charming to his name being thrown around, treated like a monster, [Which he was, he killed people] his office was cleaned out swiftly after being searched for anything alluding to his crimes, the home they shared was searched and torn apart for evidence as she sobbed into the arms of a supportive, unsuspecting neighbor,
After everything went down she was either scorned or deemed a unfortunate lady who unknowingly married a murderous monster, she had parts of the community that took pity bring around casseroles and give her words of comfort.
It couldn't have been more then a year since Alastor had gone, a family member of one of his victims wanted revenge, however since the murderer was already six feet under, why not go for his widow?
In the dead of night carrying a gun he crept into the home she once shared with her beloved, he moved passed the picture frames on the walls, from events, Their wedding photos and pictures of family, all were hung up neatly.
He opened the door, a creaking noise rung out throughout the house,
He moved forward towards the bed where the widow laid, deep in a slumber she'd never wake up from,
The man lifted up the gun and shot her right in the heart, She didn't know what hit her.
Arising from the ground she brushed herself off, the sight of brimstone and the harsh smell of sulfur filled her nose,
She didn't know what killed her, maybe a heart attack? Perhaps she choked on something in her sleep? Well there was no use in wondering, what's done is done, and from the looks of it she definitely ended up in hell, wasn't surprising after all she did help out her husband in his crimes.
With a quick look at herself, she made a face at the animal ears that protruded from her head, along with the matching tail on her back, shaking her head she began walking around to explore the place.
She supposed it was time to go find her dearly departed darling now wasn't it?
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Good evening folks! Thank you for reading!
I'm making my way through requests and a couple of them will hopefully be out within the week! Stay tuned!
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mellifexfarm · 7 months
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News
My flock has contracted Marek's Disease.
Since 2019, after I brought home Lyra and Wren, my flock has been a closed flock. Meaning I take biosecurity very seriously, and opted to not bring any new chickens in or allow other poultry-keepers access to the yard where they are kept. The only birds that were added from 2019 until now have been from hatching eggs. There are a select few diseases that can pass from mother to egg, but not Marek's.
But within the past few weeks one chicken displayed symptoms of leg weakness and became unable to walk. I brought them indoors and started treating for vitamin deficiency, since that is by far the most common cause of sudden lameness in poultry. But she didn't get better, and then Lyra started walking unsteadily, and I knew something else was wrong. I suspected something was wrong with my feed and sent off a sample to get tested for mycotoxins, and switched feeds, because I know a lot of people have had issues with that lately. But then one morning I found Moss deceased in the coop, and it all kind of went downhill from there.
Sebrights are known for having extremely low resistance to disease. They are very inbred. It is the reason I lost Kip to fowl pox when everyone else recovered fine. And why all but one (her unnamed cockerel "emo" son) of the members of my flock who are descended from Lyra are affected. But none of the other tiny breeds I have, Seramas or Kikirkis, are known for being particularly disease resistant either. So. I am extremely cautious at jumping the gun and saying they wont be effected.
I sent off Moss's body for a necropsy on monday and got the results today, September 29th.
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I do not know how this got into my flock. Our nextdoor neighbor got chickens a few months ago, but our birds don't have any direct contact. That is the only way I can think of.
There is a vaccine but it can only be administered to day old chicks. Vaccinating to prevent this was not an option.
It generally takes 4-10 weeks for the disease to develop after the chicken has been exposed, so it had to have been fairly recent. My flock has not been carrying this sub-clinically.
I genuinely don't know how this is going to go from here. There is no treatment for marek's disease. It is a virus. I have ordered a few herbal remedies with vague studies to back up some kind of efficacy helping reduce the damage the virus does and boost their immunity, but its mostly a crapshoot. The only good news I have with all this is that older birds are somewhat less likely to succumb to this disease. And the fact turkies and pigeons can't contract it.
The only birds displaying symptoms right now are Lyra, and Moss's unnamed pullet daughter.
Lyra is tentatively okay. I have crafted a sling for her, and she has been increasing in mobility over the last few days. She did not ever have full paralysis, so I am hopeful. Her daughter and Mouse, one of the younger keep-back pullets from this summers chicks, are the only casualties so far.
I'll be doing all that I can in terms of supportive care, but if any symptomatic birds get to the point I don't think they will recover from I will be euthanizing them. I will not be selling chickens anymore.
This disease has been a nightmare of mine for such a long time and now it is really happening. I am pretty crushed.
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ilyluffy · 1 year
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𝕜𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕠 𝕟𝕒𝕟𝕒𝕞𝕚 ࿓ 𝕣𝕠𝕪𝕒𝕝𝕥𝕪 𝕒𝕦
♡ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ࿓ king nanami needs a child and he thinks you can give him what he wants
♡ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ࿓ king!kento nanami x afab!servant!reader
♡ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ࿓ dom!nanami, sub!reader, power imbalance, mentions of pregnancy/child, titty sucking, body worship, cunnilingus, breeding kink, vaginal sex, size kink, creampie, praise, petnames “angel”, soft ending
♡ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ࿓ 2.1k+
♡ 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 ࿓ @simp-lauren
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𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐕𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘. although that wasn’t completely uncommon. king nanami cared a lot about his kingdom and had to carry a heavy weight on his shoulders in order to serve his citizens. with this in mind, you couldn’t help but feel that it wasn’t the typical stresses of being a leader that was troubling him.
perhaps your good instincts could be attributed to you being nanami’s main servant. you were indeed correct. something else was bothering him. the topic that was corrupting his mind was the issue of there being no heir to the throne. nanami was the only one of royal blood left with his parents having already passed away. it only occurred to him the importance of having someone in line to take his place when the neighboring king’s son was born recently.
who would have guessed that the king who could solve almost any problem would have found himself in such a predicament. it wasn’t as if he had a spouse that he could turn to. nanami was so focused on serving his people and making the past leaders of the kingdom proud that he hasn’t had time to search for love. now he was feeling desperate. what to do? what to do?!
this was the question he was pondering when you slipped into the king’s quarters to give him his early morning tea. nanami was sitting on the edge of his bed with his eyebrows furrowed, mumbling to himself. up until this point you’ve kept quiet about your concerns but it was growing increasingly difficult to remain silent.
“my lord, i’ve brought your favorite” you announce, setting the tray on his lap. for a moment nanami seems to snap out of whatever trance he was in. he thanks you politely as he usually does before taking a sip of the warm beverage. you watch him with your lips thin for a minute before you blurt everything out. “my lord, i know it’s not my place to ask but it seems as if there’s something weighing heavily on your mind. is there anything i can do to assist you?”.
nanami reflexively shakes his head. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t dismayed by his refusal. however, the more nanami considers your offer the more he thinks you might be able to solve his issue. for years he’s witnessed first hand how well you were at taking care of others. you almost had a natural parental instinct.
before he can stop himself from being so foolish, nanami asks you a question. “you’re not required to answer but i’d like to know… have you ever thought about having children?”.
to say he took you off guard would be an understatement. you get a little flustered but still muster an answer. “yes i have, my lord”.
this was exactly what he was hoping to hear. minus the fact that you had no noble lineage, you would be excellent at raising a child. which is why nanami proceeded with his request. “would you bare my first born?”.
if you weren’t surprised before you certainly were now. it was a relief that you were no longer holding that tray of tea. otherwise you would have dropped it. you stare wide eyed at your king for what seems like too long. eventually you manage to stutter a “y-yes”. you might have sounded pathetic in the moment but this is exactly what you’ve been dreaming of for ages.
falling in love with the king wasn’t a difficult task. even looking past his good looks, his care for the citizens of his country was really what captured your heart. you never dared make your feels known. a peasant like you didn’t even have the right to fantasize about being with a man of his stature. and as long as you could keep serving him that was enough for you.
however, now it appeared as if the opportunity of a lifetime fell into your lap. the man of your dreams was requesting for you to help him have a baby. this was all you’ve ever wanted and more. it would be a mistake to say no. besides, it was your duty as a servant to do whatever your king needed so you HAD to comply.
nanami didn’t want to rush. he had plenty of other responsibilities he had to take care of during the day so he asked for you to return to his room once everyone in the castle had gone to bed that night. you were almost scared that by the time the evening came nanami would come to his senses and take back his proposal. luckily for you by the time you slipped into his chambers in nothing but your night gone, nanami hadn’t seemed to change his mind.
actually he was quick to lead you to his extravagant bed to gently slip the fabric of your clothes off. you’re taken aback when he holds his breath at the sight of your naked body. he pays particular attention to your breasts, cupping one after he lays you down on his mattress and latching his mouth on to the other.
“beautiful” nanami mumbles against your nipple while he pinches the opposite bud between his fingers. you whimper at both his touch and the praise. you’d never imagine a king would speak about you with such high regard but now all you wanted was to hear more. “they’ll look even more ravishing when they start to leak with milk” nanami adds, moving on from your tits to kiss down your stomach.
he pauses for a moment when his lips reach your bellybutton. at first nanami chose you because of your character but the more he touched you the motivation for the scenario was expanding. the image of seeing your tummy plump with his child was making his cock twitch eagerly.
eventually nanami shakes himself out of his daze and he moves his face between your legs. a shiver runs up your spine when his hot breath fans against your folds. there’s no holding back your noises when nanami finally begins to lick and suck your clit.
“m-my lord” you moan, grabbing handfuls of the sheets below you.
“there’s no need for formalities” nanami reassures you as his tongue plunges into your hole. “the person who has the honor of carrying my child also has the luxury of referring to me by name. i want to hear you moan for kento instead, my angel”.
like the good little servant you are, you obey his command. his name falls from your lips over and over again like a prayer. the pitch of your voice gets gradually higher and higher before, almost unexpectedly, you make a mess all over nanami’s face. guilt washes over you right after the pleasure does. sitting up, you begin to apologize frantically.
nanami gently shushes you, urging you back on to your back. “there’s no need to be sorry. that was exactly what i wanted. you wouldn’t have been able to take me otherwise” nanami reassures you, licking up the rest of his meal before gripping his cock. he’s right, it’s far too big for it to be able to fit without preparation.
you watch through lidded eyes as he gives himself a few strokes. then when the king pushes your legs against your chest, you try to remain as still as possible as he lines himself up with your entrance. you hold your breath as nanami finally starts to shove himself inside. the stretch, despite his efforts, still causing tears to build up in the corners of your eyes.
before he can ask if this is too much for him, you choke out an “i’m alright. please continue my lord- i mean… kento. i want to make love to you and create this kingdom's next leader”.
nanami scans your expression. he’s only about half way inside and you’re scared that he’ll suddenly decide that you’re not worthy. however, he runs circles over your hips as if to help soothe you. “you’re so loyal. i’m so grateful that i chose you” he says before bottoming out in one swift motion.
your head falls back. just like that you feel unbelievably dizzy. you don’t stop nanami as he sets a pace however. even if you’re a little loopy, the feeling of him thrusting into your soaking pussy trumps that feeling. you want him. you want him so badly. all you can think about is him filling you to the brim with his thick cum.
nanami’s thoughts were in a similar place. he wants to breed you so much that, although you pleaded for him to make love to you, he can’t bring himself to take his time. every snap of his hips is quick and serves a purpose. that doesn’t mean he’s completely disregarding your own pleasure. being the generous king that he is, kento makes a point to stimulate your clit as he relentlessly pounds your cunt.
nanami grunts ring in your ears as he flicks and pinches your sensitive nub. just looking up at him makes you wanna cream around him. his eyebrows kitted together and sweat dripping down his perfectly scalped face made nanami look like a god. no matter how much you want to make another mess you wait until he catches up with you.
“i’m close” he warns you in between his skin slapping against your own. “are you ready for it? are you ready to make me a father”.
“yes! yes! please give it to me” you allow your selfish side to make an appearance as you grip on to his muscular shoulders. “wanna be bred so bad”.
the desperation in your voice makes nanami moan. making sure that his dick is as deep inside your womb as possible, nanami’s seed paints your walls. by that time there’s no reason for you to hold back. you let yourself leave a nice white ring around the base of his cock.
it takes a little while for nanami’s balls to empty completely but you figure that’s a good thing. the more he releases into your pussy the better the chances. when nanami pulls out after a while, some of his cum leaks out. that simply won’t do. scooping up what he can, the king carefully pushes it back into your hole.
“that’s it. you served me so well” nanami praises, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. “i knew that you were perfect”.
with both of you out of breath, nanami lays down on the bed next to you. naturally, you assume this is your cue to leave. you’ve done what was asked of you. there was no possible way he desired to be in your presence any longer. on the contrary, the second you make a move to dress yourself, nanami takes hold of your wrist.
“stay here”.
his tone is too gentle to be a command. no… it seems like nanami is almost begging for you to remain by his side. how could you deny your king, much less the man you loved? feeling a sense of relief, you get comfortable again. if any of the other maids walked in on this scene it could potentially be bad but right now you were too overjoyed to care.
you swear nanami’s glowing as you cuddle up next to him. little do you know he’s thinking the same thing as he stares at you. “there’s one more thing that i hope you can do for me,” nanami murmurs, examining every inch of your face. you’re like an angel and he wants to make sure he can recall this image whenever he pleases. he’s happy when you tell him that you’re willing to do whatever he’d like. “i want you to be mine, forever. a king needs someone by his side”.
you blink in disbelief. was he suggesting marriage? the longer your gaze stays connected with his the more likely this becomes. you suppose it isn’t much of a stretch. he was already trying to make you pregnant. a wedding wasn’t too far off. still… could he really chose someone like you as his life partner?
nanami must notice the insecurity on your face because he strokes your cheek to calm you down. “there’s no one else i want to fill this role other than you. i can accept it if you reject me but don’t do so because you think you’re not worthy because you are”.
his words of reassurance warm your heart. after a while you’re able to flash nanami a smile. “sire… 𝐈 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄”.
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𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟚–𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟛 © 𝕤𝕒𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕣𝕖 — 𝕕𝕠 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕣𝕖𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕖 𝕞𝕪 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕜. 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖𝕤, 𝕣𝕖𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕤, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕨𝕖𝕝𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖
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American Psycho Killer
Summary: Leon S. Kennedy, a man who’s taken his duty of protection very seriously. He’ll do anything to ensure the safety of people, especially the safety of one particular girl.
Warning: stalking, murdering, mentions of planned murder, mentions of drugs and drug abuse, gore (kinda), death, masturbation (m receiving), smut, creampie, yan!leon, not proofread lol, fem reader, psychopathic.
A/N: I did my research for this as I wanted this to sound a little spooky teehee :3
“I got you under my skin” - Mirotic, TVXQ!
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Psychopath vs. Sociopath. The popular argument in between psychologists.
Leon never really cared enough to get himself checked out but there were signs. He didn’t feel empathy for others, his moves were calculated and he’s highly educated. He has a well paying career, he pretends to be this normal guy when in reality, he’s psychopathic.
What defines a psychopath apart from a sociopath? Psychopaths, at least in Leon’s case, cannot form established bonds with others. He doesn’t feel guilt or sad when he sees a person die by his hands.
His job already requires him to kill so this was an easy feat. He doesn’t care. He can’t feel anything.
He couldn’t feel anything until you came along.
Leon lived in this apartment complex just downtown of a city in the state. The apartment was big and had security cameras all around. It was well guarded and the people were kind.
When he saw the new neighbor move in, he felt weird. He narrowed his eyes as he watched you from the window of his apartment loft. He was growing suspicious at his behavior. Why did his chest feel warm? Why is his heart beating fast? Why are his hands sweating?
He didn’t know. Up to this point he didn’t feel anything but you brought something to him and it made him uneasy. So he decided to keep an eye on you.
Days passed after you moved in and you settled just fine. The old lady at the end of the hall brought you cookies, a sweet old lady. She talked to Leon a few times and he didn’t think much of her other than just as his neighbor. Nothing more.
But if you were to ask him what he thought of you? Oh boy, he thought a lot of things. Both good and bad.
Being a psychopath isn’t praised in society. Only 1% of the population is considered one and no one knew he belonged to that percentage. And he’d like to keep it that way; his excuse for his behavior was his job. He always left early in the morning and came back late at night. A manipulator and a liar is what he was, and a very good one.
He’s seen you leave your apartment from time to time. You’d take out the trash, went out with your friends- he’s seen everything you do.
Leon isn’t stupid, he’s attentive and observant. He leaves no trace behind of the murder he just committed. The male neighbor across from your door saw you one day when you walked out of your door with a short dress.
The man eye-fucked you so much he literally almost started drooling. Leon cringed and found him repulsive. How dare he look at you like you were some meat on the market?
He felt anger and disgust. No one should look at you like that. No one.
So, one summer day, he made up an excuse to visit him. Something about a water pipe connecting to his sink that didn’t make it work. Like I said, Leon is a good manipulator and a good liar. He always gets what he wants.
The male neighbor invited him in and closed the door behind him. He offered Leon a beer, to which he refused. He found liquor and other substances repulsive. He walked over to the man’s kitchen sink and began to inspect it.
He noticed the man’s sink had a garbage disposal unit. That’s pretty dangerous, he thought to himself.
He walked over to where the man was sitting. The male neighbor was sitting on his reclining couch as he watched a game with a cup of beer on the stand next to him. The neighbor was so engrossed on the football game that he didn’t notice Leon slipping something into his drink.
Leon was smart. Dangerously smart. He knew everything when it came to death- he worked in the DSO, of course he knew some things. He knew the effects of alprazolam and what it does to the brain.
So when he lied to a psychiatrist about his insomnia and got prescribed some Xanax, he crushed a high dosage into fine powder and slipped it into the man’s beer.
Stupid bastard, Leon thought to himself.
He watched as the male neighbor took a sip of his drink and Leon waited. Xanax is a powerful drug, can cause hallucinations and make your brain become a little too calm. You’re bound to fall asleep at some point. And with the amount Leon dropped into his drink, he knew he’d knock out sooner than later.
After a few minutes of “tinkering” with the man’s sink. He got up and went to check on the man again.
And sure as hell did the man find himself in a profound slumber. His snores layering with the sound of the TV.
Too easy, Leon smirked to himself. He put on some elastic gloves and made sure he wore shoes that wouldn’t leave footprints. In case things would get messy, of course.
He poured the man’s drink down the sink to get rid of the evidence. He then thought hard about how he should go about this.
There’s many different ways one can commit murder but Leon wanted the cleanest one. So he came up with one.
He brought pans to the stove and made it seem like the man was cooking something for himself. He partially cooked a stupid egg and left it there. Leon went back to where the man was sitting and dragged him out of his couch and towards the kitchen. Since this man’s place was small, the kitchen and dining area were joined together. He sat there man down on the dining table, which happened to be near the stove. He took out the man’s phone and put it in the man’s hand to make it seem like he was using it.
Leon went back to the kitchen and continued to prepare the scene. He took out bottles of alcohol the man had and poured them down the drain to make it look like he’d had a few drinks. He took a single cup from the cup rack and filled it up halfway. With the cup and bottle of whiskey in both hands, he walked back to the table where the man was sitting and laid them on the table. He took the half empty cup and smeared the man’s lip on the rim. You must cover every single detail.
He even poured a little alcohol into the man’s already parted lips. Leon walked back to the stoved and kept the gas on. Now all he needed to do was wait and let nature do its thing.
Leon walked out of his apartment, pretending to still be talking to the man since there was a camera on the corner of the hall. As the door opened, the camera couldn’t record that Leon had been talking to himself. It made the act believable.
With a smile, Leon walked back to his place and stayed there.
A few hours passed and it started to get dark outside, each resident was inside their unit and ready to go to sleep when the fire alarm began to sound. Everyone was forced to evacuate the premises as the firefighters came to the scene.
You saw as the ambulance brought out a stretcher into the building. Someone was still inside, you thought to yourself as your eyes widened and your heart rate increased. You tried to move but felt someone’s hand on your arm, it was Leon.
“Don’t. It’s too dangerous,” he replied in a serious tone as he stared at you with those cold blue eyes. You pinched your brows together. He was right. If you were to try and save the person, you’d die in the process. You nodded defeatedly and he let go of your arm. He stood there watching you- analyzing you.
You had a good heart, he thought. Too good for his liking. That made you an easy target for people and he loathed the idea of people exploiting your kindness. He vowed to protect you, to mark his hands dirty for you.
As the EMT brought back the stretcher, you could see a person lying there lifeless. All the other residents immediately started to mutter amongst themselves, some started to cry and others gasped in shock. You simply stood there, wide eyed and jaw slack. Leon’s expression remained unchanged as he watched you react to the man’s death. The man deserved it, he thought to himself.
Couldn’t you see that he was protecting you? You’ll come around eventually, he thought.
As the ambulance left the area, the firefighters started to clear the smoke as the police arrived. The police began to do their investigation as the firefighters checked the unit and deemed it good after clearing out the fire and the smoke. One police officer began to make her way to the apartment as the other stayed behind with the residents to ask questions.
Leon was a smooth talker. A trait most psychopaths had. He could get himself out of any situation and he could lie. So when the police asked him what had happened, Leon simply replied with, “I’m not sure. I went to his apartment to check his water supply as my sink stopped working and he lived next to me. I noticed he was making himself some food but I was too busy checking our pipes. He reeked of alcohol and barely spoke to me,” Leon’s tone was different. He sounded likey he spoke the truth.
You couldn’t help but listen to his words. To you, they are true. You saw him walk out of the man’s apartment.
The investigation was deemed as self-manslaughter. The police believed that the man suffered from deliberate alcohol poisoning which caused him to pass out in the process of cooking himself some food.
This made news headlines. Everyone believed the story but they thought the man was stupid enough to cook while he was drunk. Many of the residents believed it, he was a known alcoholic. Leon was never caught.
He was watching you from the window, months after the incident occurred. You had just come back from your college lecture. Leon knew. He stalked you, he followed you.
He knew your weekly routine. Monday through Thursday you had lectures. On Friday, you did work study. And the weekends were reserved for your personal time. He felt proud of you for balancing your life. You lived healthily and he couldn’t help but feel proud at your decisions. He knew you were smart enough to take care of yourself.
He knew the campus you went to, he knew the classes you were taking, he knew your major- he knew everything. But he pretended like he didn’t.
So when he saw you in the parking lot, right next to his car and you had trouble with your groceries, he couldn’t help but feel like your knight in shining armor. With his hardened expression, he asked you in his stern and serious voice, “Need some help?”
You smiled sheepishly and nodded, “Yeah… you don’t mind helping me?” You scratched your head awkwardly. On the inside, he found it adorable. But on the outside, he maintained his cool. He nodded and walked over to your car to retrieve the bags of groceries you bought. He was so strong he carried all the bags to your apartment door. You thanked him graciously and invited him inside.
“You can put them on the table, I’ll assort them,” you said as you took of your jacket and hanged it on the rack right next to the door. He nodded and walked over to the dining table, where he put all the bags with food. He took this opportunity to look around your place.
You kept it simple. It was nice, colorful, but nice. You had tons of books on your shelves, he took a mental note that you probably liked to stay indoors. He noticed the way your laptop and a few papers were scattered on the couch and coffee table, you were studious and dedicated to your education. He silently applauded you in his head. He liked that about you. You had goals and ambitions.
“Thank you, again. I owe you one,” you walked up to him and gave him a warm, genuine smile. He looked down at you and nodded again. Pretty smile, he thought to himself.
“It’s no problem, let me know if you need help with anything. I’m a couple doors away,” he replied with his usual serious tone. He remained unchanged, at least to you. To him, he felt like he about to combust into pieces. You were perfect, absolutely perfect.
Days went by and you found yourself talking to Leon more often. Or at least on the days you could. Leon was gone most of the day, he told you about his hectic work schedule and you couldn’t help but feel bad about him. So you decided to make him a small dinner with a note.
You left it on the front door of his apartment and walked back to yours. When Leon came back from work, it was 2:27 a.m. As he climbed up the steps of the stairs, he noticed something on his front door and felt slightly confused. He hasn’t ordered anything. He grew cautious and slowly approached his door. But then he saw your name on a sticky note. He quickly picked up the lunch box and walked inside his apartment.
Walking to his dining table, he read the note you left. Even your handwriting was perfect. The little swirls of the letters, almost writing in cursive made him want to keep you all to himself. He brought the piece of paper to his nose and sniffed it roughly, the paper crumbling in his hands as he could smell your scent on it. He groaned in pleasure as he could imagine your soft and small hands picking up a pen and write something just for him.
Just for him.
That thought alone almost set him off. He couldn’t eat dinner, not with the growing erection in his pants. He put the dinner you made in his freezer and quickly walked to his bedroom. He sat down on his bed and unbuckled his belt, throwing it somewhere on the floor. He pulled down his pants and boxers and watched as his cocked sprung freely, hitting his abdomen with a thwack.
His left hand held the piece of water with your handwriting and your scent while his right hand traveled to his cock. He brought the piece of paper to his nose again and closed his eyes in pure delight. Your scent was intoxicating- sweet vanilla with a hint of coffee. He grunted and moaned at the thought of your hands picking writing this note. He could picture your small hands wrapping his big cock, rubbing his base up and down as your scent infiltrated his airway.
His muscles tensed up as the thought of having you in between his legs made his cock throb. His stomach coiled as he felt himself nearing his orgasm. He could imagine your mouth sucking on his cock as he rammed his hips deeper down your throat, making you gag on him. He’d grab your hair and pull you closer to his pelvic area, having his blonde pubic hair rub against your face as you took his cock like a good girl.
He growled your name as he came in himself. White ropes shooting down at his palm as he tried to collect his cum and prevent it from staining any of his furniture. He sighed softly and laid his back on the mattress as he thought of you.
You drive him wild, he’d do anything for you. If it meant having you as his.
And that’s what drove him to kill more people. One day, he overheard you while both of you “coincidentally” went to get the mail from the lobby. You were speaking on the phone to a friend and he tried to make it seem like he wasn’t listening. But he was.
He heard you talk about how your ex is pestering you and giving you a hard time. That you cried last night because you two had an argument while he tried to get back together. His blood ran through his veins as you mentioned you cried.
He’d kill anyone who made this sweet and perfect angel cry. And that’s what his next murder was going to be. He went back to his apartment and began to stalk you again. As a government agent, he had privileges the common folk didn’t have. He was able to run a background check on you and found out your ex. To his surprise, he was your first and only relationship so far. He knew this guy probably broke your heart as your first relationship will always be your worst one.
He narrowed his eyes in anger as he found the man who broke your heart. And jotted down the information he had on him- his address, his workplace, his contact information, etc. Leon found everything thanks to his job.
When you heard news about your ex dying, you were shocked to see that he died from overdose. You’ve never known he was a drug addict, or at least that’s what Leon made it seem to be.
Leon drove all the way this man’s house and observed his routine. Your ex went to work, came back home, and went to the bar. An alcoholic, this made it easier for him.
Leon walked into the bar with his casual clothes, he spotted the man sitting on the bar counter with a drink already in his hand. He walked over and sat next to him as he ordered himself whiskey.
Your ex was already stupidly drunk, flirting up some poor girl who was just trying to talk to her friend. So he’s a creep too, he thought to himself as he took a sip his drink.
Why do you always find yourself around creepy and perverted men?
Leon looked around and made sure no one was watching him as slipped some stuff into his drink. Leon then continued to sip his drink and even chatted up the bartender.
The more your ex drank, the closer he got to an overdose. Turns out if you mix alcohol with prednisone, the effects could be fatal. Your ex would develop a liver damage that could potentially end his life if he kept drinking like he was right now.
It was getting late and Leon paid his tab. It was 11 PM and he decided he should go home. He wasn’t drunk, not yet at least. So he was perfectly capable of driving back to his apartment. But not your ex.
It was nearing closing time for the bar and the poor bartender saw your ex passed out on the counter. She didn’t know what to do but she tried waking him up.
Unresponsive. Her eyes widened slightly as she over to his side and checked for a pulse.
Flat line. She called the police and reported the death.
The police declared it suicide. They believed he voluntarily took drugs and alcohol at the same time.
In your mind, you were in denial but then you slowly began to think to yourself. He’s been acting weird and out of the ordinary when he’d talk about getting back together. It all made sense now. His aggressive behavior, his short temper… he was a drug addict and an alcoholic.
You attended the funeral, of course. And when you came back, Leon had been unlocking his door. He saw your puffy eyes as you had your heels in your hands. You looked like you’ve been crying- which you probably were. Leon paused as he stared at you, he nodded once at you, acknowledging your presence. He then spoke up in a tired voice, “Rough day?”
You nodded as you blinked slowly, “You could say that.”
He hummed in response and looked back down at his doorknob. Then he looked back to you, “Do you want to talk about it?”
Leon himself was tired as he just came back from a tough mission, but he would never be too tired for you. He pushed his exhaustion to the side and would rather take care of your needs for you.
You sighed and nodded slowly, “I could use a drink.”
He invited you over to his apartment and let you sit down on his couch as he took two glasses and one bottle of Jack. He walked over to the couch and set down the glasses and the bottle on the coffee table as he sat down next to you.
He began to pour for the both of you, not wanting you to work any more than you’ve already had.
“Cheers,” you muttered under your breath as you clanked your glass with his and chugged the liquid down your throat. The burning sensation almost making you forget about the mental strain you had.
He watched you as you set down the glass back down on the coffee table. Even in this state, you looked absolutely beautiful. He couldn’t wait to have you for himself. To prove to you that what you needed was a real man.
One thing let to another and you found yourself pinned under him on his bed. Your legs spread open as your knees rested on his shoulders. The head of his cock abusing your cervix, bruising it with brute force as he pulled out and pushed back in harshly. His balls smacking against your ass as his arms caged you under him. Your hands were on his shoulders, nails clawing deep into his flesh as the bed creaked from him pounding into you. The headboard hitting the wall behind the bed as he pulled out and forced his cock back into your tight walls. Your cunt clenching around his member as his hands gripped on your hair, forcing your head up so he could hear your stupid blabber.
He pulled out and rolled you over to your stomach. His left hand gripped on your waist as his right hand gripped the back of your neck and pushed your face down the sheets of his bed as he rammed his cock from behind you. Your ass jiggling as pounded harsher and harsher. Making sure you knew who you belonged to. He’d fuck you until you couldn’t walk.
You kept moaning his name against his pillow. Drool falling down your lips as tears rolled down your cheeks from the pleasure. You felt him even deeper from this position. His left hand gripped on your waist as it then traveled down to your ass and smacked, almost immediately seeing his hand print show in a pink and red hue on your skin. The burning sensation of the slap only made you more needy for his touch. His left hand found your hip and forced your body to clash against his as he fucked you straight to bliss.
Stars clouded your eyes as you whimpered and moaned. He cock throbbed and twitched inside of you as it stretched you. It hurt but it hurt good. His right hand gently squeezed the back of your throat, causing you to moan.
“Fuck- Leon- ‘mma cum-“ you spoke breathlessly in between moans and whimpers. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Cum for me,” he pressed a kiss on your shoulder blade as he felt you squirm under him. Your body convulsing as your orgasm took the best of you.
Your pussy clamped and clenched around him, wedging him with your juices. He didn’t stop, however. He kept pounding into you as the squelching sound echoed through his room.
He grunted and growled as he felt himself about to cum. He began to speed up and he let go of your neck. Now that both of his hands were on your hips, he gripped the fat of them and forced your body in and out of his cock. Bruising your cervix as your ass hit his hips. The sweat making your skin glisten under the shitty light of his room. You looked even more beautiful when he was fucking you like this.
His hot and sticky cum spurted out of his cock, coating your walls with a part of himself. In his sick and twisted mind, he branded you. He branded you with his essence and he didn’t regret it. He pulled out and heard you moan dumbly as he watched his cum slowly drip down the lips of your cunt to his bedsheet. He’d have to clean them but he didn’t care. He gave your ass a gentle squeeze as he patted your back for you to lay down. He knew you enjoyed it so much since you were on the brink of passing out.
You closed your eyes and felt as Leon cleaned you up. He took your hand and placed a gentle kiss on you knuckles. He was grateful to have you.
He wouldn’t mind killing again. Now that you were his in his mind, he’d go as far as killing every man who’s ever laid eyes on you.
For you, he’d become the world’s best serial killer.
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serialunaliver · 3 months
Note
ive been meaning to ask this for a while but like in an antipsych world what would the treatment/response to bipolar be like? much like schizophrenia its obviously something that wouldnt go away when several factors (capitalism, psychiatric abuse) do
i'm actually psychotic not currently in inpatient psychiatric care and you basically need a very dedicated support system. for safety my family has done things such as lock weapons away, installed cameras outside home, and if there's a serious issue and they're gone alert the neighbors to come check on me. my parents also know how to approach delusions and paranoia. there is actually a history of bipolar and schizophrenia in my family, so they'll even contact each other like "do you think xyz would help sivi like it does with [cousin]". community support and awareness of severe mental health issues is a good approach. of course things will not always go smoothly, but that's why you don't have just one person involved so it's not as overwhelming and people can rely on each other (my aunt has helped me in place of my mom and stepdad sometimes when things get very bad).
i'm also not opposed to use of medication but there should be more autonomy surrounding it. and with bipolar you may need to change doses or medications more often.
I do want to say that schizophrenia and bipolar can actually be partially trauma induced especially when there's a family history of the conditions. schizophrenia also presents differently in more communal and accepting societies because the person is not as alienated (i'm not lying, there's research on this, it's an interesting topic to look into actually). so even mental health conditions known as being more 'nature' than 'nurture' can cause more or less stress depending on your environment and the values you're raised with.
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wandasfifthwife · 2 months
Text
༺ needing me
paring: CEO!Wanda x fem!reader
tw: 18+ MDNI, Wanda calls her strap her “dick,” dom!Wanda, sub!reader, use of the term “mommy,” reader gets jealous of the attention Wanda’s giving the new neighbor, fingering (r receiving), (magic) strap in v (r receiving), Wanda spanks you, needy/bratty!reader, Wanda puts you in your place 🤭
a/n: not proofread, I’m exhausted. sorry if it’s shitty yall’ss. enjoy
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People come and go. Some are for a season, some for a long time. The woman who sat across from you and Wanda, you hope she’s going soon. It wasn’t like this in the beginning, so what also changes is feelings. You would have never called this woman a bitch when you first went with Wanda to say hello for the first time.
It was pleasant meeting her. Thanking her for the kind gift and inviting her over sometime— as casual neighbors. Then one dinner had turned to two. Then two had turned into three. Then you had begun to mumble curses under your breath when Wanda told you from the living room that Lorre was hoping to join you two for dinner. Again.
“This is the fifth time,” you had snapped, too irritated by her taking so much time and by Wanda allowing her too.
“Yes. It’s quite nice to have friends in the neighborhood.”
“She’s a little too friendly.”
Wanda had entered into the kitchen just then, a frown now on her face at your attitude., “why do you say that? I think she’s been lovely.”
You roll your eyes, “she’s the closest thing to a bitch if there ever was one.”
A neutral expression takes over where her frown was as she realizes. Only a quiet hum escaping her as she leaves to go open the door when Lorre began to knock. Her reaction was enough to send you spiraling, desperate to push her over the edge.
You had greeted her reluctantly, placing the silverware and food onto the table for the three of you. Lorre made herself comfortable in the living room, Wanda making conversation with her while they waited for you to come and get them.
Your distaste and attitude was apparent when she took a seat near you, Wanda being on the opposite side. It was fine, you answered when she asked and kept a low profile for the first thirty minutes. It grew when you felt like you were pushed to the back, no longer reviving Wanda’s affection.
“I remember last time you mentioned being interested in non-for-profit work, I know someone who would be—“
You cut Lorre off, deciding to speak on Wanda’s behalf, “that’s okay.”
“Oh I insist, they’re a grand writer and they—“
“And I don’t think Wanda would be cut out for that. She has enough as is.”
Wanda had reached over the table then, putting her hand on yours, drawing your attention to her.
“I apologize for her. Before I forget, I’m going to return your plates! Thank you so much for letting us borrow them.”
Wanda had pulled you behind her, not caring if you were embarrassed by the action, or how you stumbled. She brought you to the kitchen, letting the swing door close behind you before she turned you around and into the counter.
“So desperate for my attention you have to ruin a good night?”
You gasp when her hand burns the skin on your lower thighs, the feeling rubbing your ego so well it has you pressing back against her.
“Need you.”
“I know.”
You feel her smile grow into the kiss she was placing on your neck when you whine after a particularly rough slap. She laughs, “so needy.”
You’re left on the counter with nothing when she moves beside you to grab the plants Lorre had gifted you with a homemade baked good a week ago. You reach to grasp onto her and pull her back into you, but the way her expression sets has you scrambling back.
“I want you to be polite to Lorre the rest of the night unless you want to go to bed knowing you won’t come until I decide.”
You say nothing, not wishing to push yourself any further at the moment. She was fully capable of sweet talking Lorre out of your house, explaining how nice it was to see her again and how something came up with word but when in reality it was you she was busy dealing with.
The rest of the night went as expected. Wanda listening to Lorre rant about the same things she always does while you sat in silence contemplating what would happen when she left. When you stopped looking at the clock in the corner of the room, the time went by faster and Lorre was finally ending her conversation and heading back to her house beside yours.
You didn’t care to walk her out, preferring to lay back on the couch while you waited for them to exchange final pleasantries. Wanda had shut the front door and it felt every cool breeze went with it.
“Want to tell me why instead of explaining and using your words, you thought being a brat to and in front of another would be more appropriate?”
“I wanted your attention.”
She pulls your legs to wrap around hers, “do you feel better after mouthing off to mommy? Needed to be mean to get what you wanted instead of being a mature adult?”
You pull at the front of shirt, begging for her to take the initiative and kiss you but she leans away.
“Until you learn you need to ask what you want and that you’re mine— I’m not touching you.”
“I just think, maybe you should pay more attention to me- oh.”
She pushes under your waistband, drawing a finger over where you need most. You pull her onto you, begging her to touch you.
“You’re really cute when you’re jealous,” she mumbles before kissing you. Your arms come around to fully embrace her, trying to hold her as close as possible.
“Please,” you breathe against her lips between each bruising kiss, “please touch me.”
She loves the sweet sounds you make when she finally presses a finger into you. The way your legs tremble around her waist, either holding her tighter against you to loosening and trying to make purchase on the couch arms beside you.
“You fall apart so beautifully. I just wish you wouldn’t be so rude to other’s because they’re taking mommy’s attention away from you.”
“I’m sorry,” you cry, tone breathy and shaky.
She questions you, adding another and angling it to watch you squirm. Each trust wears at your attitude more, chipping at it until you’re an empty shell of what you were before. Hands gripping wherever you can, little soft cries coming from you as you’re sensitive from not feeling her touch after two weeks.
It’s enough, and she’s pulling back to switch your positions. She pulls you onto her lap, asking you to remove her pants. Your hands fumble with her belt, your face leaning close to hers to whisper in her ear.
“Need you to be rough,” she stares into your glossy eyes, eyebrows raised at your request, “please.”
She grins at you, “need mommy to be rough with you? Want to feel how good I can make you feel?”
You whimper at her words, moving to kiss her and moaning when she bites your lip. She loves easing up on you when she recognizes the days when your eyes and put-of-place attitude beg for her to take control.
Wanda adjusts beneath you, widening her thighs and giving you space to breathe as you sink down on her length. She’s gripping your waist tight, a long sigh escaping her when you bottom out.
“So good for me,” she mumbles, rubbing your sides, placing kisses over your chest.
You can’t help but to grind onto her length when you feel she’s taking too long. She’s quick to stop you, punctuating her actions by jerking her hips to hear you gasp.
“You need to ask, baby.”
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry— please just use me. Need you— ah!”
She guides you, muscles flexing while she splits you on her length. Soft ahs falling from between your lips with each thrust pushing deeper into you, pressing into the spot that has you arching into her body.
“Always take my dick so well,” she coos, “always so good for me.”
“I’m good?” You ask, voice needy and she’s quick to reassure you, landing praise after praise until small tears form. The whole time she had her thumb pressing near your clit, adding enough pressure to watch your pleasure build, not feel it spike due to overstimulation.
“Do you need to come, my love?“
You nod, pulling at the seams in the couch as you feel it boil over. She lets out a sound similar to you when you quiver around her, a sob coming from deep within as you come down from your high
“My love, you’re so good,” she kisses your neck, wrapping her arms around you and pulling you to sag into her body.
“I love you,” you babble.
“So very proud of you. I love you too.”
The words ease your mind, giving you the freedom to fully relax in her hold. Wanda lifts you by reaching under your thighs and carrying you to your room, laying you onto the mattress.
You run your fingers through her hair, a dazed smile on your face, “are you going to stop there or keep going because I need you again.”
She laughs, eyes wrinkling with a smile brightening her face. The sound making you smile and rub your thighs together from underneath her. She notices, and you almost feel offended, “you haven’t paid me any mind for two weeks. It’s not my fault.”
“No it’s not,” she spreads your thighs again, “I’ll take care of you until you’re satisfied.”
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heartfullofleeches · 3 months
Note
Dude I feel so bad for zombie Yan, I tend to be accidentally honest but would totally keep up their delusion. Like, their little half exposed brain can't process their (probably bad) death, how am I supposed to tell them?
Like, "yeah babe lots of humans have half of their brain out, don't worry pookie" "Yeah I know their arm fell off, would you stop being such a dick about it?" "They just drank too much water from the sink, that's why their skin is gray"
"Hey, babe.... Do you still think I'm cute?"
They feel like such a terrible partner - piling stupid questions on top of all the care and attention you've given them since they got sick. You must be so tired of them now, but they needed to hear it from you. The difference between them now and the person you fell in love with were like night and day. They'd lost so much weight in these past few months, their eyes are hollow and empty. Their skin remains the same blotchy gray color no matter how many hours they lay rotting in the sun.
"Of course I do. Why wouldn't I, silly?"
"I don't know.... I guesx I just haven't been feeling like myself lately....With that whole dog bite incident and everything that's happened since I feel like a burden to you...."
"Hey, don't think like that. You're just sick - that's all, remember?"
Sick... That's right. They said so themselves. Ugh, it's not fair. How come you still be that same wonderful you that they fell for all that time ago? So understanding and still so, so cute. You just get cuter by the day to them...It makes it so hard for them to control their temper when they see neighbors interacting with you outside. Don't they know you belong to them? Just because they get to be outside with you doesn't mean a damn thing. They hate how buddy buddy everyone gets when their symptoms flare up and they can't leave the house with you. Hate, hate, hate- They just want claw, and stomp, and bite all their dumb, smiling faces into a mangled heap no one would be able to tell apart. It's what they deserve for trying to steal you away.
But they'd never do anything like that - Hurting people would make you cry and if they did that what good were they to you?
"I think it's time for bed."
"Yay!"
Your partner crawls in bed, leaving their ankle hanging off the edge of the mattress for you to shackle to the frame. Once testing the strength of the chain, you climb in right alongside them - loosening the latches of their muzzle by a few notches as you both get comfortable. You kiss the cheek with the lesser amount of decay as they nuzzle up to you - breathing in your intoxicating scent. Deep down you both knew they'd never bite you. You satisfied a different craving and if they ever lost you their hunger for human flesh would swallow them whole.
"I'm sorry we have to do this, but we can't risk you running out while I'm asleep again."
"It's okay. I know you're just trying to help me get better. I actually really like the idea of being chained to you for the rest of my life. I love you so much, baby. Soon as I get better I promise I'll be the one taking care of you."
"Yea.... I'd like that."
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sugrhigh · 2 months
Text
BOY NEXT DOOR - ( c.s )
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part two
summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.
warnings- swearing, drinking, no smut (yet 😁)
neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader
a/n: WELCOME TO MY FIRST REAL SERIES! i have a lot of ideas for this cuz i love this trope dearly so buckle up! more parts will come soon. also working on a tattooartist!reader x matt series (thank you anons) that will also be out eventually. in the mean time if you have smaller/specific reqs you’d like to see, my inbox is open babies! and if u just wanna say hello or ask a question i’m here xoxo
the music booms over the speakers inside the house next door, just like it always does on the weekends (and occasionally on thursdays too). it always drives you up a wall, but tonight it’s particularly bad.
you sit up slightly in bed, absentmindedly wondering who the fuck is on aux. you’re not sure why the thought crosses your mind, but you know it’s not chris, because these picks are horrendous.
it’s already past two in the morning, not to mention it’s the middle of the week. you haven’t been able to get a wink of rest, even with your headphones blaring at full volume. usually they do the trick, but tonight’s party is relentless, demanding to be heard.
wine wednesday, you think to yourself sourly.
neither of your roommates are home; they’re both off with their significant others, somewhere that’s not here, listening to fuckface and his friends get drunk.
you’re usually pretty passive about the noise, because they provide free alcohol for you guys when you show up and typically give you notice that they’re throwing something.
but tonight it’s just too fucking much. you’re tired, and groggy, and very much so still in your silky pajama bottoms and oversized t-shirt, but you don’t give a shit.
you jam your feet into some sneakers and grab a jacket, clutching it close to your chest as you head down the stairs to the main level of your own house.
you pass the dark living room, shadows leering in the corners as you’re guided only by the light coming from the street lamps outside.
you step onto the porch and the cold smacks you in the face, breath fogging up the air. it’s the middle of january in boston, and the expanse of dead grass between your houses crunches under your feet as you tread toward the front door.
the rest of the street is quiet, aside from the party. but they’re all senior hockey players, and it’s the beginning of their last semester, so what else can you expect?
besides maybe some basic human decency every once in a while. in fact, you’re so frustrated that you’re going in without backup, and without a real plan of any kind.
for some reason, once you get up the three steps to their door, you pause to knock. as if anyone would hear you over the music, or care enough to open the door for someone who’s fucking knocking.
so you twist the handle next, and it’s unlocked. of course.
it opens to a hazey front hallway that you recognize, stairs to the left hand side, blocked off by a young-looking guy you assume is probably a freshman on duty.
the front area is full of people, pressed against the walls, chatting over the music. well, more like yelling over it.
you can smell weed, which confuses you slightly. you know none of them smoke, not during the season at least. they usually don’t let anyone do it inside the house, so it must be an allowance for a girl.
you’re already getting strange looks as you step inside, which is fair. your shorts are hidden by the length of your shirt and jacket, so you’re just legs and shoes. you’ve got no makeup on, and you didn’t check your hair before you came.
but you swallow the lump in your throat, because it doesn’t matter right now anyways.
you shift your way through the crowd, gaze skipping over the people as you finally reach the dark living room. multi-colored strobes flash, lighting up the hoards of tipsy college kids dancing on the soaked wooden floor. furniture is pushed aside to make room, though the championship banner from last year still hangs on the wall.
his eyes find you before yours find him.
he stares at you across the tops of people's heads, standing by one of the couches that’s shoved against the wall. one of his roommates, connor, is leaned back on the cushions, watching the two girls they were talking to pass a joint back and forth.
but he’s no longer focused on anyone else, because he’s spotted you across the room, and he thinks this is the most disheveled he’s ever seen you. your angry eyes lock in on him seconds later, and they narrow instantly.
you beeline toward him, right through a group of people that are half-dancing along to the terrible playlist.
he lifts his eyebrows at your attitude, but not in fear. he’s actually a little impressed. his friends are watching you warily, just as confused as everyone else who saw you walk in.
he can’t help but stare at your legs as you finally reach him, admiring how cute you look in your pajamas, pale pink bottoms peeking out underneath your shirt with every step. he briefly wonders if you’re even wearing a bra.
then you open your mouth, and the fantasy is over.
“what time is it, chris?” you snap at him, one hand balled into a fist, the other clutching your phone.
“i don’t know, but i have a feeling you’re going to tell me.” he takes a sip of his drink to try and hide his grin.
it takes a lot of self control to keep yourself from slapping it out of his fucking hand, just because of how smug he looks. you hold up the screen to his face.
two twenty-two in the morning. chris almost laughs.
“the answer is way too fucking late to be having a party on a wednesday.” you reply, bringing the device back down to rest by your thigh.
“why didn’t you come? i missed you.” he pouts.
you glance over at the people on the couch, at the girls who are still making eyes at you as they converse with connor. he’s giving you a weird look too, as if no one could possibly understand why you’re here like this.
“yeah, sure you did,” you turn back to him, “now shut this shit down before i call the cops.”
chris puts his hands up in surrender, though he knows this is an empty threat just as much as you do.
“wow, somebody’s grumpy.”
you roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest self-consciously. “i’m serious. tell the puck bunnies to go home for the night or i’ll do it myself.”
he takes a tiny step closer, just a few inches, and yet it still seems suffocating. he looks too good, clad in a simple black tee and jeans, and he’s studying your face with the fire of a thousand suns.
“you don’t have to be jealous because other girls are here. you know you’re my number one.” chris replies easily.
even though his tone remains light, his expression is serious now. it enrages you more, that he thinks he has so much control over you.
“as if i give a fuck. i just want to sleep, so the choice is yours. police,” you wave the hand that holds your phone slightly, “or call it off.”
chris takes another sip of his drink, tipping it back so he can finish the rest of it in one foul swoop. then he nods his head, like he’s admitting defeat.
“fine. i’ll send everyone home.”
you can feel the relief creeping over you, knowing that you don’t have to actually get law enforcement involved. “thank yo—”
“on one condition.” he interrupts, and you furrow your brows.
“no conditions, chris. we’re not bartering right now.”
“come to the game on friday and we can hang out after for a bit. i’ll even give you a practice jersey to wear.” he offers, and the trademark smirk has reappeared on his face.
lights dance across his features, morphing his expression every few seconds. you just stare, because for once, you’re actually not sure what game he’s playing.
“what, can’t get a date without having to resort to blackmail?” you taunt, and he laughs.
“please, i don’t date. and i’d hardly consider this blackmail. just think of it as getting to know your friendly neighbor on a more personal level.”
there’s a humorous glint in his eye, one that’s daring you to say yes. what’s there to be afraid of? all you have to do is watch hockey, eat some popcorn from the concession stand, and deal with his attitude for an hour afterwards.
you’re still not sure what chris is getting out of this, or why he’s insisting that you need to be there, but at this point you don’t care. all you can think about is salvaging the rest of your sleep.
“alright, fine. now you have five minutes to get everyone out, and i better not hear any more shitty remixes for the rest of the week.” you point an accusatory finger at him and he shrugs, though he’s clearly content that you caved in.
“your wish is my command, princess.”
you turn on your heel to head back outside, retracing your steps from earlier as you slip through the mob. you half expect chris to follow, just because he’s annoying, but he doesn’t.
the overhead lights are coming back on now, and you can hear deep voices shouting, combined with collective groans from the crowd as they all realize they’re being kicked out.
luckily you make it out the front door first, and you jog back up the steps to your own place to get out of the cold.
you’ve only been inside for seconds when your phone buzzes in your hand.
chris
see you friday
sweet dreams ;)
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lovebugism · 4 months
Note
“Remind me why I can’t kill the carolers?” with a grumpy scrooge eddie!! maybe he and reader move into a new neighborhood with friendly neighbors who go all out for christmas and are always caroling? i can’t imagine the people of hawkins showing up at his door lol
ty for requesting :D — the metalhead freak gets stuck with a bunch of carolers and runs to his girl for comfort (established relationship, fluff, eddie "loves being babied" munson, 1.2k)
blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
Eddie moves to the nice side of Hawkins with you. Not the suburbs, exactly, but pretty damn close. 
It’s a house with stairs and a sliding back door, both of which only existed in movies for a kid who grew up in a trailer park. The backyard is fenced in, too — big enough for a dog. A couple of them, even. And maybe a pool if his music career takes off. The realtor also told you that the school district is “to die for,” and even though that’s not really an issue right now, Eddie figures it’ll be important sometime soon.
These are all things you’re supposed to care about when you’re settling down with someone you can see a future with. Eddie thinks so, at least. He can see himself getting old with you, in this house and on that front porch. He’ll be holding your hand on your afternoon walks until both of yours are spotted and wrinkly.
The only bad thing about life (halfway) in the suburbs is running into all the assholes he used to know in high school. Vicki Carmichael was walking her too-expensive dog yesterday morning, and the afternoon before that, Tina Burton had the whole cul-de-sac down the street shut down for her kid’s first birthday party. What the hell is a one-year-old even supposed to do with a bouncy house?
It’s totally trippy. 
But Eddie’s been able to avoid them well enough. Or maybe everyone else is avoiding him. Either way, he’s grateful.
“No— where are you going?” you whine as Eddie slides open the glass door of the shower. You’re still getting used to being able to do this with him now that you’ve moved into the new place. The bathroom back at the trailer was barely big enough for one person, let alone two.
“I’m already done, and you’ve barely even started,” he answers, laughing at the dramatic desperation in your voice. 
He steps onto the plush mat outside the tub and wraps a towel around his tattooed hips. Steam flows out, and the outside cold swoops in. It pricks your skin and makes you shiver. You duck under the faucet for warmth until he closes the door behind him.
“You’re gonna be in here forever, and I’m gonna get all pruney,” Eddie insists, right before shaking out his damp curls like a wet dog.
“You usually like it when I take my time,” you joke, laughing when it makes him silent.
Eddie’s brain gets all foggy at your words. Worse than the heavy steam filling up the bathroom. He’s contemplating whether or not to jump back into the shower with you — and really let you “take your time” — but a knock on the door throws a wrench in his plans.
“Can you get the door for me, honey?” you ask just to tease him, ‘cause you know he’s milliseconds away from pressing you against the shower wall.
He listens to you, because he always listens to you, and then ultimately decides he never will again.
Eddie leaves the warmth of the bathroom, shoves on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt that do little to protect him from the bitter cold outside, and finds a number of familiar faces standing on his porch. 
It’s an entire crowd of people who used to bully him in high school — plus a bunch of snotty private school kids — all dressed up in the most horrendous, white-bread Christmas outfits the world has ever seen.
“Oh, shit…” Eddie mumbles under his breath, the evidence of his words leaving in a thin white cloud. He hadn’t even meant to say them out loud. They just sorta spilled out in the moment. Honestly, he thinks he might be dreaming.
The town’s resident metalhead is forced to sit through a botched rendition of Deck the Halls and Holy Night. And since you’re still in the shower, you can’t even swoop in to save him from it all. He just suffers through the half-out-of-tune caroling while his drying hair frizzes, a wavering smile of confusion stagnant on his face. 
When they’re finally gone, Eddie shuts the door with a chest-deflating sigh. He isn’t totally sure he’s taken a single breath since he opened the damn thing.
“Who was that?” you call from the top of the stairs, a fuzzy towel clutched to your chest. The warm scent of your body wash flows from the opened bathroom door and down the steps.
Eddie turns to look up at you from the bottom of them. He feels so suddenly drained. Like he just ran a marathon or pulled an all-nighter — something utterly exhausting that’s taken a piece of his soul. Maybe it’s dramatic, but he feels a little like his suffering has stripped ten years off his life.
“Remind me again why we can’t kill the carolers?” he jokes as he trudges up the stairs, the railing of them lined with glowing garlands.
“Those were carolers?” you gape, eyes wide and brows raised to your hairline.
Answering the door isn’t really Eddie’s thing. Conversations with strangers at the door aren’t really his thing, either. You think he might’ve just lived through one of his greatest fears.
“Yeah,” he scoffs, laughing through an exhausted sigh. He walks to your shared bedroom and flops on the center of the bed. A heavy sigh falls from his lips like he just got done working a twelve-hour shift. 
You’d laugh at his dramatics if you thought they were anything but totally real. So instead, you sit gingerly beside him, careful to keep your towel from falling, and try to comfort him without giggling.
“Shit, babe. I’m sorry,” you mutter, rubbing a palm up and down the length of his back. You’re grateful he can’t see your smile from this angle, lest he think you aren’t taking this seriously.
“Oh, don’t be,” he tells you, muffled into his pillow. Sarcasm drips from his honeyed lips like venom. “It was tons of fun seeing Jason fucking Carver on our doorstep.”
“Jason was out there?” you gape, a little louder than you mean to. Your shock is palpable.
Eddie huffs and turns onto his back. “Yeah— did you know he has a kid now?”
“What?”
“Uh-huh,” he nods with a small smirk. The life returns to the chocolate of his eyes now that he can gossip. “She was a really cute baby, you know, considering. The odds weren’t really in her favor there.”
You tilt your cheek to your shoulder and cup his jaw with a warm hand. Your thumb rubs gently over the flushed apple of it, tinted cold from the outside weather. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to save you,” you tell him, half playful but with a sincere glimmer in your eye.
“No, it’s okay,” he says with a shake of his head. “I’m glad you weren’t there to see that.”
You can’t tell if Eddie knows you’re teasing him or not. Or if he’s joking about the whole thing ‘cause it’s over now. Your boy’s too hard to read for his own good. You decide to keep pitying him anyway. His love language is basically being babied.
“Want me to make you some hot chocolate?”
He nods, a small pout jutting out his rosy lips. “With the mini marshmallows, please?” he mumbles.
You bend at the waist to plant a kiss on his forehead. “Whatever you want, babe,” you promise in a gentle murmur.
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postersofleon · 13 days
Text
Wrong Age For A Babysitter
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It's winter break. You went to visit your parents after a long time of seeing them. To your surprise, a guy who is your age says he needs to babysit you.
content: fluff and smut
notes: afab fem!reader, mentions of drinking alcohol, reader drinks it with leon. leon and reader are in their twenties. cute sex. second point of view to not have y/n, before the events of raccoon city, no mentions of holiday just winter. non canon lore of leon; this was suppose to be published in december, but I forgot about this.
taglist: @argreion
It was the winter holiday after a long time studying for finals, you went home to your parents home to visit them. At least for a while, but unexpectedly, your parents weren't home. You took off your shoes before entering, the house was dark with very little light. "No even a voice mail." You muttered bitterly. Your eyes looked around to see what you'll respectful steal from your parents. Cookies. Hell yeah. You grabbed from the selection and took a bite. The silent house only heard were the munches of your teeth eating the cookie.
That's when you saw a note from your parents on the fridge.
Hi, we went to dinner with a couple of friends. Sorry we couldn't be with you.
Your eyes narrowed, "But couldn't call." You didn't mean to sound so damn bitter, but how much it hurt to call in. You grabbed a beer and cracked the can open. You steal more cookies from the tray, and your eyes found the thermostat and made it comfortable heat. You grabbed your beer and sat on the couch of the living room.
You attempted to find the remote, but nope. This was getting more and more annoying. You put the beer on the coffee table and put the cookies on top of the fizzy beer. Your hands patted down the couch over and over, your fingers were shoved inside the edges of the couch. You found pocket change and put in your pocket without thinking twice.
But the small lived silence stopped when you heard a knock. Your head snapped to turn to see who it could be. Was it those Christmas singers? No. There's was silence, and those people were loud. You carefully grabbed a cookie and ate a bit of it before walking towards the door.
You checked the peep hole and found a sandy blond guy in the other side. His cheeks were flushed from the cold. "Hi?" He began, "Um, I'm Leon. The babysitter." He knocked again.
Maybe it was a dumb action but you opened the door immediately. "Sorry, wrong house. I'm twenty." It wouldn't make sense why your parents would send a babysitter.
Leon shook his head, "Impossible." He took off his glove and pulled out a piece of paper that read your address. You ate another piece of your cookie before looking at the paper, "You got the wrong house." You knew so. You stepped a bit out of the comfort of your home, "Over there." Leon turned to see, "My neighbors have a daughter. You are probably her babysitter."
Leon shook his head, "I don't mess up my addresses." He exhaled deeply. His eyes almost intimidated you, he looked so damn determined, and with that you felt a bit of second hand embarrassment. You took another bite of your cookie, "Can I see some ID?" You asked him with small levels of impatience. Leon automatically gave you his ID.
What a handsome guy. "Leon Scott Kennedy." You read out his information, "Happy early birthday." You smiled politely at him as you continued to look at it.
You knew your parents were careful around you, but not to give you a babysitter at your age. "Listen," You began, "You seem a nice guy, but I don't need a babysitter. I just got out of college to enjoy the winter break."
Leon sighed softly, the exhale was that looked like that fog, "Listen, I don't break my promises," His blue eyes were focused, "If your parents put me as a twenty year olds babysitter. I'll do it."
"Fuck it. Fine." You pulled away to let him enter. You were being stupid and ignore all the possible red flags of this situation. Once Leon entered, he took off his snow boots and his coat. He turned to see the living room, hoping at least there was children to actually take care of, but it was only you and him.
"Wanna a beer?" You asked him with a tiny awkward smile.
Leon didn't drink beer in his babysitting job. But what is he gonna protect you from? "Yeah, that would be nice." He sat down on the couch and looked around. It was nice and toasty. You looked at him for a second before going to the kitchen and grabbing a beer. "Here ya go." She walked back and handed it to him.
He gladly accepted it. "Appreciate it."
You sat on the other side of the couch. You needed to see why this guy was going to be your babysitter. It was dumb. You are still convinced Leon got the wrong address, but for now, you will just stayed quiet and took a drink.
Your babysitter took a drink of his own beer.
Your head leaned on the couch to see Leon properly. It was unacceptable that this guy was hot. He looked cute and lovely, and unfortunately, it wasn't enough to flirt with him. Leon turned around to see you. He had a small smile, "I'm sorry. I know I seem like a red flag." He whispered.
Without a second, you nodded your head, "Yeah, it hard to think you are... y'know... normal?"
Leon chuckled softly, "I'm going to be a cop." You snorted a laugh, "That doesn't prove anything." A gentle tease.
Leon laughed a bit louder, "I guess you are right." He took a small drink of his beer. "But I wanted to become a cop to protect people. I grew up poor with my grandma after my parents died so..." Leon brushed his hair behind his ear. "I want to be good."
"It's a noble wish." You whispered softly.
"Yeah, well, I'm trying to be chosen to work for Raccoon City." Leon leaned on the couch as he looked at your eyes. He swallowed, "It's... it's a nice place to start." You nodded your head as you listened to him speak; he had a lovely voice.
You two took a drink. You leaned closer to him, "It's nice." You confirmed.
Leon sighed softly, his cheeks redden from the warm place, "Listen," Leon rubbed gently his wrist, "Maybe I was... too stubborn." He couldn't even look at your eyes from the simple idea of him being wrong. Thinking his stuff more clearly, Leon sighed again, "I was wrong. Maybe you are right."
A small laugh appeared from your lips, "No way? Really?" You finished your beer and placed it between your thighs. Leon scowled, "I, I know." But he didn't seem offended by it. Immediately, he laughed softly, "I'm sorry." A small pause between you two, Leon looked down your thighs.
"Sorry." He whispered again.
Yeah, your own thoughts were infected at the idea so quickly. It was amusing that you first thought this dork wasn't worth it until his eyes traveled down at your thighs.
"It's, um," You cleared your throat, "Fine." Your hands grabbed the can of beer and put it on the coffee table. Leon's cheeks were redder before leaning completely forward. His lips were still a bit cold, but your warm lips didn't mind it. Gently, Leon got on top of you. His knees were side to side of your thighs, his lips tasted awful with the beer and the coldness. Yet it didn't stop you. Your lips moved with his, your lips gently sucked on his, and slowly, your tongue was inside of his mouth.
Leon's hands grabbed your hips against his, pulling them ever so gently. Leon's hips gently began to hump against you. You dropped the kiss, "L-leon..." You mumbled weakly, your arms wrapped around his shoulders as he continued to hump you.
His humps were desperately slowly in attempts to get his erection, and certainly, you began to feel the bulge. Leon looked at you shyly.
God, who is this guy looking shy after grinding against you? "Are you wet?" He asked you.
Your cheeks burned up, "Um, a bit," You admitted softly, "But, I'm..." Your eyes were finally full-on focused into Leon. His cheeks were red, his bulge continued to grind against you. What kind of one night stand is this?
"Need more?" Leon whispered softly.
You nodded. Leon nodded his head and slowly got between your legs. "May I?" Leon asked. You nodded your head, "Yeah." Leon pressed his nose against your crotch, gently licking you. You gasped very weakly. His hands grabbed your hips so gently, holding you tightly. Even though you had pants on, you could feel how his hot breath felt.
"I'm ready." You whispered softly. Leon looked up at you, "You sure?" You knew it was too fast, but it was definitely worth it already. Another nod.
Leon sat up and undid your jean's button and slid them down. His eyes were focused on your thighs and your face, darting them up and down, "I, okay." He took off his own jeans. Your cheeks burned even more when you saw his dick. Your hands covered your face, "Um, I-" You laughed nervously.
"Don't laugh at it." Leon faked a pout.
His hand gently rubbed his dick and pumped it gently, "It has feelings." Slowly, the tip brushed your clit, you chewed on your lip as it slowly went inside. "Oh, fuck..." You muttered so ever weakly. Leon groaned weakly, his hips gently pushed more and more until he was completely in. His blue eyes met yours for a second and laughed, "I, I-" His dick twitched happily, he leaned close and began to kiss you. So gently and kindly. You followed behind him. Small pecks of kisses that slowly, little by little grew.
You held him tightly, his hands caressed your cheeks, "Mm, I, I could ask you on a date..." Leon mumbled against your lips. His hips slowly began to move, small little thrusts, "I don't, I don't usually do this..." Leon groaned weakly, "In the first date-" Leon rested his head on your neck and his hips went faster.
His tongue licked your neck and bite on your skin. Trying to be quiet. You gasped weakly as you felt him enter you in and out. His hands gently grabbed your breasts through your shirt, squeezing them gently.
Another weak whine, "L-Leon..." Leon lifted your shirt and shoved his face between your breasts as he thrusted deeper and deeper. He kissed your breasts gently and sucked your nipples.
Was this really all the attempts to keep quiet? To make you feel that you'll be loud. He gently nibbled on them, he growled weakly as he thrusts went faster and faster. "I, I need to..." Leon mumbled softly.
He groaned weakly, trying to hold in his release. You pulled him away from your breasts, his lips were covered with drool- his eyes were empty. He looked so pretty. You leaned weakly towards him and kissed him. He whined weakly, "Fu-Fuck, fuck..." Leon's hands travel down your lines, holding your thighs.
You were making this harder and harder for Leon.
Leon kissed your jaw as he continued to groan. His thrusts went into a bit harsher pounding, "C'mon, c'mon..."
He needed your release more than ever.
You felt how his cock just twitched over and over. His length moved in and out, the desperation in the two of you grew. His fingers found your clit and rubbed it. He whined. He finally whined with those grunts, it was just a mix of him rubbing it over and over.
You cried weakly, "Leon!"
His thrusts turned a bit sloppier, Leon groaned louder as he focused only, only in your pleasure. Soon enough, his cum exploded inside of you. Leon cursed softly as he felt your cunt hold him, your warmth was so nice. Inviting. Leon held your face. Giving you more and more kisses around your cheeks and lips. You gasped softly, trying to catch your breath, "Leon..." You mumbled weakly.
Leon pulled out of you and his cum slide down. His heart fluttered. He should have worn a condom, but all he could do is look at your face.
Leon laughed softly again and kissed you over and over, "I'm- I'm sorry." He was even more lovable. You laughed weakly, "Stop, stop it." Leon's eyes were so bright, and it made your heart melt even more.
Your hand gently held his, sharing a small moment until you heard your parents open the door. You two attempted to fix each other up, it was fast, but the smell of sex ruined the lovely winter joy. You fixed Leon's hair, his cheeks were still red, and he was met with another kiss. "I owe you the date." Leon whispered softly. He caressed your cheek before kissing you again.
"Oh, hi," It was your dad, "Um, who is the guy?" You gently pulled away, "He's.. he's my boyfriend." Leon blushed heavily. Babysitting isn't as tough, but Leon did have to remember he accidentally forgot his job. "Um, well," Leon forced a smile, "Hi."
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