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rainyvandragon · 3 months

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Oh those precious memories~

See I could tell myself that it's okay that I'm writing this because I am a catholic woman but let's be real those things just aren't true any more. So instead I am going to claim this as an emotional craving because of that time of the month. Definitely nothing along the lines of 10 year revival of my fanfiction writing phase. And it's totally, in no way related to any issues I might have. Totally sane, I tell you.

! 18+ Minors do not interact, I am NOT a fckn daycare!

Yandere! Hazbin Hotel x GN! Reader

Content warning: obsessive behaviour, stalking, slight NSFW (more in some parts then others), just a bunch of red flags and things that I do not condone irl

Charlie:

Honestly Charlie might be the most sane of the bunch in this regard

She isn't to interested in stealing anything from you, that is just not something she would be comfortable with – in general but especially with her Darling

However she doesn't mind keeping things that you let her borrow

It doesn't even matter what

You gave her a hair tie because one of hers broke? She'll cherish it forever

It was raining on a day she had to go out and you suggested she could use your umbrella? Pretty much hers now

Of course the greatest thing for her would be you lending her some of your clothes

She would most likely spend the next nights cuddling up to it in bed

Oh the frustration when the fabric no longer smells like you but rather her!

Yeah sure, she can give you your things back. She just forgot them in her room, oops! Don't worry she'll get them later

Unless she forgets again...

Vaggie:

She would never take anything you truly need or value

In all seriousness, Vaggie could never stand the idea of inconveniencing her Darling

However unlike Charlie she is just not close enough with you (yet) to count on you giving things to her

So instead she uses the position she has in the Hotel

There was a movie night with everybody invited?

Well somehow ever since the clean up the blanket you were cuddled up in is gone. Oh well, Vaggie will just get a new one, they weren't that expensive to begin with anyway (and if she is fast enough with it nobody is even going to notice anything)

Sadly those lucky occasions that allow her to grab some reminders of your shared time don't come around to often

And Vaggie respects you and herself to much to steal from you or go through your garbage bin

Thankfully she has the patience to wait for those windows of opportunity

And hey, since everything went relatively smoothly this week why not suggest another movie night to Charlie? Everyone involved seemed to enjoy it anyway – so there really is no harm done, right?

Angel:

Anybody who immediately thought of Angel stealing his Darling's underwear needs to take a cold shower!

Now don't get me wrong – he has thought about it

He does have a relatively high drive and desire for intimacy and sex

So sure the idea of taking something rather personal from you did cross his mind

But deep down Anthony just is a little sweetheart and he just couldn't take something like your underwear or other intimate items from you without any sort of consent

As for other, less private things

It doesn't matter if Angel and you have the same of different sizes – he WILL steal your clothes and wear them

If you wear make-up or nail polish he will definitely “borrow” things – especially lipstick

Now if his Darling is somebody who likes to keep a lot of pillows or plushies in bed he is definitely not shy about taking things from that pile either. Although, depending on how well Darling keeps track of those things, he might only borrow them for a night or two – maybe rotating between some, making sure to leave them under the bed upon returning so it looks like it just fell off the mattress

Alastor:

Now Alastor is already rather torn apart when he first noticed his desire for your belongings

He never once though about stealing from you...until you forgot something in the lobby – a book, notebook, pen, whatever it was – it was just lying there on the table next to the couches

Ever the gentleman he obviously wanted to return it to you but something inside of him fought against the very idea of it. This might be the closet he gets to having you (at least for now), his Darling

As his obsession towards you continues to grow some of his past life's interests stir awake inside of him

One day whilst helping out you cut yourself on some damaged bit of furniture. Alastor is immediately there to offer you a handkerchief to stop the bleeding – a handkerchief that quickly becomes one of his most prised possessions

If his Darling has a period he might steal some...used goods

However in comparison to some of the others, he is a lot less hungry for souvenirs

Although that is really just because, unlike them, he can use his shadows to be around you whenever and as close as he pleases

Husk:

Husk would never just go into his Darling's room to steal things from them – even if the idea sounds lovely

No instead he just checks for things you leave behind

Now his job at the hotel really helps him with that

You almost exclusively talk at the bar (“Redemption Based Group Exercises” being the only real exception)

At this point he has a rather large collection of napkins that you used or doodled on

Sometimes they disgust him but then he looks at them, the little doodles (even just to test a pen) you left on some of them, all those marks of you (bonus points for lipstick stained napkins) and he just can't

The guilty feelings are even worse with a tissue you once cried it. It's just to close of a reminder of you to throw away!

Anything small that you forget at or close to the bar gets saved by him – pens, small pieces of paper, hair ties, buttons from your clothes, whatever really. If it's small and unimportant enough for you to not really miss it he is going to keep it

Nifty:

Nifty is easily the worst of them all

She is small, fast, obsession driven and the hotel's maid on top of that

What matters most to her is how close to your body her little mementos are (it's pretty much the same way in wish the catholic church determines the value of a saint's relic)

Nifty will most definitely collect hair out of your brush

Or rummage through your garbage bins

Now if somebody is going to steal used period products!

She just really doesn't value her Darling's privacy in the slightest so she has no issues going through every little crevice of your room to look for some “hidden treasures”

Although her favourite thing to do is sleep in your used bedsheets

She is going to wash them – don't worry! Simply just not without first sleeping in them herself for a bit

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Welp this is the first time in a long while that I've actually written fanfiction so I got those emotions to sort through I guess.

English is not my first language however given how arrogant I can be regarding my skills this should be well enough written. Prove reading was done by Open Office's spell checking system and my high ass.

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ihavethedreamies · 2 months

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Best Friend's Brother | Doyoung

Kim Dongyoung (Doyoung - NCT 127)

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~5.4k

Pairing: Doyoung x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Some Plot, Friends to Lovers

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Small Age Difference (Like 5 years, reader is 19 and he's 24), Swearing, Kissing, Oral (M! Receiving), Fingering, Spanking (once or twice), Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! She's on the pill)

Author's Note: I wrote this a long time ago and had it saved somewhere else and totally forgot about it till the other day, lol. I Beta-ed it myself but there might be some errors still.

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

You had always had eyes for your friend's brother. It was nearly impossible not to give the fact that he was simultaneously the cutest and hottest thing on the face of the earth. There were times where Doyoung would smile or laugh and you heart would melt; the other times he would get angry or annoyed, and THAT look…made your ovaries explode. His broad shoulders and narrow build appealed to you more than the ripped guys you'd meet at the gym. You did always wonder what he had hiding under there though, because every time you were at the pool, he either didn’t get in or wore a shirt…Though, the wet fabric clinging to his body didn’t leave too much to the imagination. The worst part though, was that your best friend knew EVERYTHING. And she would tease you mercilessly for it. She was never disgusted by your crush on her brother; however, she requested to never have to see anything between the two of you. Fat chance at anything happening though. To him, you were like another little sister. You had been friends with his actual sister for many, many years, and he probably still saw you as the toothless six-year-old that hit him in the head with a plastic baseball bat. It wasn’t on purpose of course, but he, and his sister, never let you live it down.

Luckily, since he was five years older, there was never a point where you two were at the same school. You weren’t sure you could handle all the stares and attention he got from other girls, because he for damn sure got it. You remembered one valentine's day the amount of chocolates and notes he brought home from school. The year after you had decided to make chocolates for him yourself, but when they turned out terribly misshapen -still tasty- you ate them yourself.

Little did he know, you had a framed picture with him on your vanity…Not in a creepy way. It was from a few summers back where your group of friends had gone camping and he went along with some of his friends to basically chaperone. Therefore, there were other people in the picture, not just him. Your favorite part of it was that he is standing behind you with that beautiful smile, his hand resting on your head. Right after the picture was taken, he ruffled your hair, then dispersed with the rest of the group. That night, several of your friends flirted and joked with his friends, but you and he sat aside, watching the shenanigans. You were both exhausted but would be teased endlessly if you went to bed, so you sat together under a tree watching the fireflies. It wasn’t until later that you had found out you had fallen asleep on his shoulder, and he fell asleep with his head resting on yours. Rumor had it, your best friend had a picture, but refused to show you. She claimed she needed it for when she did something otherwise unforgivable and needed an out.

One day you were over at her apartment, both of you studying on a hot late-spring day, the open windows allowing for a nice breeze to waft through. Her apartment was settled above her aunt's bakery and so she got a discount on rent. Since their aunt and uncle had no children themselves, Doyoung was set to inherit the business in a few years. On nice days, they would sit outside and offer samples and coupons to people walking by, and his beautiful face always drew people in like flies. It was honestly amazing to listen to him chuckle and converse with customers, but also distracted you from your studies. Often your friend would catch you, eyes closed, reveling in listening to him, daydreaming.

"Yah! Get to work." She tapped the end of her pencil on your notebook.

"Sorry." You snapped out of it and got back to taking notes. Summer break was approaching, which meant so were finals. Not too worried about it you realized you might gain a reason to be if you continued to drift off into Doyoung land. It had become soon to closing time for the bakery, staying open till about six pm that time of year. You decided to take a break and got off the floor to pace her apartment. The remnants of the food you had delivered had been put in the refrigerator and the dishes had long since been picked up by the delivery boy. Opening the fridge, you scan through it, feeling a bit snacky but not sure what you wanted. You also had a bad habit of opening the fridge when in the kitchen even if you weren’t hungry. Going to the small balcony, you leaned on the railing to watch Doyoung sweeping in front of the store and wiping tables down. The sleeves of his white button-up were rolled to above his elbow, and his jeans were perfectly hugging-

"How's studying going?" His voice startled you and your eyes moved from his ass to his eyes. He was looking up at you like a curious bunny and it was the cutest freaking-

"Uh, it's going." You huffed a small laugh awkwardly, hoping he didn’t catch you staring.

"Do you need any help?" He asked and you blinked back. Should you take the opportunity? You really didn’t need help…You glanced behind you at the pile of books and papers on the table, as well as his sister conked out, drooling on her homework.

"Uh, yes please. I'll be right down!" You called as quietly as you could for him to still hear you, but not wake her up, and shuffled back inside to grab your study materials. Your sandals flapped on the stairs as you descended the outside staircase and moved to meet him out front.

"Let's go sit inside, it’s a bit cooler." He smiled and motioned for you to follow. He closed the doors, flipped the sign to closed, and you found a table. There were only three small tables inside, so you had to put some of your stuff on the windowsill next to you. He removed his apron - dear lord his buttons were STRUGGLING - and moved the chair from across to next to you.

"What class are you studying for right now?" He asked.

"Advanced World History." You weren’t exactly having trouble, but it was the hardest class you needed to study for. His eyes widened then he blinked at you.

"You're, what, a second year? I could have never at nineteen." He shook his head.

"Can you now?" You asked and he laughed. Your heart thudded so hard it's like she fell over the railing of a balcony.

"I can try…I should have asked what class before I offered." He huffed a nervous laugh.

"Well, maybe you can just help me go over the study guide. You know, make sure I know what I'm talking about." You handed him a green-paper packet and he turned his chair to face you better, leaning back into it. He began to go over questions, and you answered, but he tripped you up. You had memorized them in order, and he was reading off at random. This meant you had to actually know what the answer was instead of relying on repetition.

"Daeng! Try again!" He eyed you over the top of the paper playfully. You crinkled your nose, thinking.

"You're so cute." he whispered, but you heard it. Your head shot up to stare at him, and realization crossed his face that he said it out loud. You expected him to brush it off as some little sister thing, but his cheeks and ears turned a bright red.

"I'm cute? Me? No, no, you're cute." You had no idea where the confident flirtation came from, but you were dead serious. He blinked at you again.

"Cute." You pointed at him. Your deadpan stare and serious tone caught him off guard. He cleared his throat nervously and wouldn’t meet your eye.

"Next question." You waved the situation off, screaming inside. It was like you were having an out-of-body-experience and your filter had been removed, letting him your instinctual thoughts.

"You really think I'm cute?" He put the paper down, sitting up straight.

"You are the cutest thing on the face of the earth." Once again, you were completely serious. His whole face bloomed red, and he brought his hand to his mouth, trying to hide his giddy smile.

"Come on, keep going, we didn’t finish." You pushed the paper toward him, but he just glanced at it.

"Questions." You poked the paper.

"How long have you thought I was cute?" He put his hand down, the embarrassment dissipating and turning to smugness.

"Forever, continue." Paper was shoved. Finally, he picked up the packet and when his face was hidden, you released a rush of air to try and calm down.

"On a level of one to ten, how cute am I?" Man, he was like a dog with a bone. You rolled your eyes.

"Eleven."

"How long have you liked me?" That threw you off a bit.

"I never said I liked you-" You tried to play it off. He put the packet down.

"You think I'm cute." He smirked.

"Puppies are cute, bunnies are cute, you are cute. In what world does that mean I like you?"

"Why do you have the hoodie I lost a few years ago in your closet?"

"H-how did you know about that?"

"Saw it in the picture on your story when you were modeling the animal onesies you two got to match."

"It could have been any red hoodie; how did you know it's yours?"

"I didn’t…not until now. Plus… it’s way too big." He smirked and your violent intentions flared to life.

"You little shit!" You scolded and he guffawed. You were sure your face was as red as that sweatshirt.

"How did you even get it?" He questioned and you exhaled harshly.

"I was at your house when it was just me and your sister. We had ordered pizza, but I was in my bathing suit since we were playing with the hose outside in the heat. The doorbell rang and I wasn’t answering the door in my school swimsuit, so I grabbed the first thing out of the clean laundry I could find." You shared and he hummed.

"Just you in my hoodie, hm?" His gaze had changed, and you weren’t sure how to feel.

"Oh, hush, pervert." You mumbled, glancing out the window at the setting sun. You heard the chair scrape on the floor, then felt him standing next to you, close enough to feel his warmth. Turning to glare up at him, your neck cracked having to bend back too far. He was so close. If you breathed too deeply your chest would brush against him. That thought made your breath hitch. Do not breathe. However, the air was stolen from your lungs when his hands, his BEAUTIFUL hands, cupped your jaw.

"Can I kiss you?" He whispered, his lips already slightly touching yours.

"Ye-" You didn’t even finish your acceptance and he instantly latched onto you. You whined, any sass draining from you instantly. Carefully, you lifted your arms and clutched his shirt above where it was tucked into his jeans. His hand moved from your jaw to back of your neck, deepening the kiss. His other hand ran down your arm and settled politely on your waist. Doyoung finally pulled away and your breath came out harsh, sucking in air. After your lung's respite, he was on you again, this time his tongue snuck past your lips, brushing at yours. You gasped and he swallowed it, backing you up till your back hit the wall. Both hands ended up pinning you in as he placed them on the wall and your hands left his side the clutch the fabric over his chest. Once again, he pulled away right as you needed to tap out for air. A small trail of saliva connected your lips, and he licked over his own, breaking the connection. He moved to bend down, most likely to kiss your neck, but you stopped him.

"We can’t, not here. Your sister could come down any minute. At least let me get the rest of my stuff. We can go to my place, it’s closer." You whispered and he backed up a bit.

"Don’t you live in a dorm?"

"Yes, but my roommate works nights." You were still so close that your lips brushed as you talked. He grunted, backing up, and you moved toward the door so fast, you almost slipped. Your left sandal came partially off, and you fixed it, before shuffling rapidly out and upstairs again. Being as quiet as possible, you entered her apartment and grabbed your other things, shoving them in your bag. You bumped your leg on the table as you moved around and fought back a grunt. His sister was still asleep, so you laid a blanket over her shoulders and shut the windows, hitting your leg again on the other corner of the table. Coming down about five minutes later, you saw he was behind the counter when you reentered, probably finishing last-minute business. You shoved all your study materials haphazardly into your bag and then waited patiently for him to finish. You were sure you looked EXTRA sexy with frizzy humidity hair, panting like an old dog with two still-forming bruises on your shins. He went into the back then came out with his own bag and smiled innocently as he met you.

"Ready?" He whispered directly into your ear, and you wanted to scream YES! but refrained.

"Yep." You tried to stay casual, and he chuckled. He led you outside and across the street to his car. It was nice, not super fancy, but still pretty nice. It was a dark blue with black leather seats. You weren’t sure your bare, sweaty thighs would love the upholstery. Getting in, you threw your bag in the back along with his and before you could reach for your seatbelt, he was doing it for you. Right as he clicked it, he gave you a brief peck on the lips. He went to start the car and your hand flung out to rest on his arm.

"Wait…I need to know, what- how do you feel about me?" You did not want this to be a one-night stand, a fling. You were pretty sure this was more than a crush, could be full-on love, and you didn’t want your heart broken. Especially not by him, anyone but Doyoung. His gaze turned to you, soft, and he sighed.

"Honestly, it was last year that I really realized what was going on. It was your birthday party at the noraebang, and you were singing with one of the guys there. I don’t remember his name. Anyway, it was a romantic duet and despite the fact that he could sing, and you cannot-"

"Hey!"

"I couldn’t stand seeing you so close to another guy. Watching you struggle to read the prompter because your contacts weren’t the right prescription, was just so freaking cute. Then you smiled at me so brightly when the song ended, at least I saw it that way. I only wanted you to smile at ME like that. I've been hiding it, because I didn’t think you would want to go out with your friend's big brother…" He tapped awkwardly on the steering wheel, giving you a sheepish look.

"My dude, that is like the most popular trope in fanfiction, you realize that right?"

"Really?"

"Yeah, that and a daddy kink-"

"Okay, thanks, that's all I need to know!" He sighed again.

"I really, really like you." He finished and you brought your hand to rest on his, wrapping your fingers around his, resting them on the center console.

"I really, really, really like you." You emphasized the third really. He smiled sweetly and leaned in to kiss your forehead.

"If this is too fast for you-"

"I have been waiting YEARS for this. Drive!" You pointed forward and he laughed, doing as you said. Once you got to campus, you directed him to the parking lot nearest your dorm building. There were still people walking about in the dusk light, and you grabbed your stuff and his hand, leading him inside. Going up to your floor, you drag him down the hall, awkwardly nodding to your neighbors. They were gawking at Doyoung, and it pissed you off. You grumbled as your keycard refused to work the first time, getting more upset that you were letting them eye-hump your man…In reality it was probably because there was a dude there, not what he looked like. You finally saw the light turn green and heard the lock click open. Shoving the door open, you yanked him inside. Throwing your bag on the floor, you used your card to enter your room as he looked around the tiny dorm living room. Another room was across from yours where two other girls lived.

"Don’t worry these walls are REALLY soundproof." You reassured, shutting the door as he entered.

"How do you know that?" He smirked and you rolled your eyes.

"Because if one of them ever brings a guy, I don’t hear anything." You motioned vaguely. While your room was clean, bed made, you panicked upon seeing your rabbit stuffed animal on the bed. You grabbed it, its name might or might not have been Doyoung, and yeeted it into your closet.

"What are you hiding?" He teased and you closed the door to the closet, before being backed into it.

"Nothing." You tried to cover the act up by resting your forearms on his shoulders, linking your hands behind his neck. He hummed suspiciously, bumping your forehead with his, before very softly kissing you. It was different than before, this felt more like love than lust. It made your head swim more than the previous kisses. He pulled back after a much shorter time, and he ran his hands over your frizzy hair.

"You're beautiful." His soft voice made you want to cry.

"So are you," You brought him down to your level again and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you so close you could feel the buttons of his shirt dig into your stomach. One hand drifted to your short-clad ass and gripped. You let out a gasp and his tongue once again invaded. He was the best kiss you'd ever had. You also had a feeling he was about to be the best in other ways too. Disconnecting your lips, he moved down, laying wet kisses and sucks on your neck. You let out a shaky exhale as he sucked over your pulse. You knew the position he was in was probably not comfortable, having to bend over so far due to his height.

"Move to the bed?" You offered and he laid one more kiss on your neck, then pulled back to allow you both to move. You barely sat down on the bed before he pushed you lightly onto your back and crawled over you. He stared warmly down at you for a second, then shoved his knee between your legs, grinding his thigh into you.

"Ah!" You moaned softly and his lips reattached to yours. He dominated the kiss, and you were totally fine with it. As his tongue wrapped around yours, your hands flew to the buttons on his shirt, shakily undoing them as quickly as you could.

Much to your disappointment, he was wearing a white tank top underneath, hiding his bare body. He broke the kiss to remove the shirt and…fuck. Just seeing his bare shoulders did enough for you... While to many that may not be sexy, that was the most of Doyoung's skin you had seen. He smirked at your gawking, watching your reaction as he removed the tank top and let it fall to the floor next to the bed. Despite the fact that you had never heard of or seen him work out, he was nicely toned. For a man who liked to lie in bed all day, he had a nice body.

"Your turn," He argued when you tried to kiss him again. You swallowed, nervous, but none the less sat up to remove your own tank top. You were in a sports bra underneath, super sexy, and you hesitated, but removed it as well. Instantly, he was on you. He manhandled you to wrap your legs around his waist, and his lips latched onto a nipple. You sighed at the feeling, never being much sensitive there, but since it was him, you actually shivered a bit…He let go with a pop and you felt a surge of adrenaline, pushing him off. He landed on his back, using his elbows to prop himself up. Before he could question you, you straddled him, running your hands over the smooth skin of his chest and stomach.

"You have no idea how long I have wanted to see you like this." You whispered and he huffed in amusement. As you stroked his skin, his hands grasped at you, linking his fingers through the belt loops of your jean shorts. With a handle to hold onto, he pulled you down and grinded up into you. Since you were both wearing denim, there wasn’t a ton of sensation, but the act itself made you both groan. You could tell he was getting harder by the second, and you were sure your underwear was already ruined. He continued to grind up into you, making your hands falter.

"Okay!" you declared, climbing off of him just enough to move down the bed and fumble with his belt. He seemed shocked, but when he tried to protest you shot him a glare. He relaxed back onto his elbows again as you undid his pants. You rubbed his cock through the fabric of his boxers, salivating slightly. Finally pulling him out, you gasped, staring at him. While not absolutely huge, he was bigger than anyone you had been with before.

"(Y/N)-" Doyoung's thought dropped off when you ran your tongue up the length of him. Unfortunately, no moan or groan came out, be he did let out a harsh exhale. You had no idea how long you had wanted to do this, and no one, not even him, was going to stop you. Not that he wanted to stop you. After a few more licks and kisses, you wrapped your lips around the head and began to descend. Finally, he let out a light groan and it sounded heavenly. You couldn’t get all of him in your mouth without using your throat, so that’s what you did. When your lips met the skin of his pelvis and you swallowed, his arms gave out and he flopped onto his back. His gorgeous fingers dug into your scalp, gripping your hair but not moving you. You swallowed again and then began to bob your head, taking him into the base each time. He was getting louder, and his noises made you moan.

"Fuck!" He cursed at the vibration. So, you did it again.

"(Y/N) if you don’t stop, I'm gonna cum." He warned. You didn’t stop. You wanted him to cum down your throat. Continuing, if not increasing your pace and sucking strength, he let out a whining moan and thrust up slightly as you felt his cum shoot down your throat. Swallowing it all down, you slowly pulled off as he caught his breath. He looked up at you as you made sure to get every drop that had spurted around your lips. Seeing that did something to him, and he shot up, pining you down roughly against the bed. You squeaked in surprise as he rapidly undid the button of your shorts and yanked them off. He paused at your panties; they had little ducks on them. He gave you a look, to which you shrugged, and then those too were yanked off. You watched as he took his fingers and ran them up your soaked slit. You moaned, eagerly anticipating him fingering you. His hands were just so-

"Doyoung!" He had suddenly shoved a finger inside of you. He quickly found your sweet spot, surprisingly so, and the pleasure shook you. Without warning he added another finger, scissoring them as you tried to catch your breath. Hovered over you, waiting till you got enough air for him to kiss you. When you could finally breathe easily, his lips attached to yours, his tongue wrapping around yours. You were in heaven, and he wasn’t even fucking you yet. You weren’t sure you could handle the pleasure. He left your lips, and you threw back your head, the pleasure of his now three fingers building rapidly.

"Oppa, I'm gonna cum." You moaned and something about the pet-name got to him, and his movements intensified, his thumb moved to your clit.

"Then do it," he ordered, and you saw white. He continued his assault, helping you ride out your orgasm. Before you got too over stimulated, he pulled his fingers out, bringing them to his mouth to suck your juices off. You gaped at him, body feeling limp. By that point he was completely hard again, and he spread your legs, placing one knee up over his elbow, rubbing the head of his cock against your still twitching hole.

"Oh, please-" You encouraged, and he slowly began to ease into you. The stretch stung a bit, but the overwhelming feeling and emotions overpowered it. As he slowly got deeper you tried desperately to not cum again so soon. Having Doyoung inside of you, finally, was better than you ever dreamed. He finally was in all the way, barely bumping your cervix. You felt so full.

"G-give me a second." You gripped his biceps, controlling your breaths to get used to the feeling. He kissed over your face as you got used to him, ending with a soft peck to your lips.

"Ready?" He questioned and you nodded. He started slow, barely pulling out before going as deep as he could, grinding his pubic bone against your clit. Your breath hitched each time.

"More." You pled and he smirked. He hitched your other leg up as well then began to thrust harder, pulling out halfway before slamming back in. You could already feel an orgasm building, it made your head swim. Nothing had EVER felt this good. He continued the half-thrusts and after a particularly hard grind you came undone again. It shocked both of you, and he halted his movements as you clenched around him. His brows furrowed at your tight walls fluttering, trying hard not to cum himself. He wanted to give you the most pleasure he could before he finished. Once your orgasm had calmed, he began the slow pace again. He quickly built speed though and you practically screamed when he began to fuck you in earnest. You were were practically bent in half as he loomed over you, fucking you into the mattress. Your hands flew up to grip at his bare back, your nails dragging and leaving red lines. Doyoung groaned at the feeling and dug his own nails into your thighs. The slight prick of pain excited you, more than you thought it would. That was something to be explored later, though. All of a sudden, he pulled out and you exclaimed.

"What-!" With much more strength than you thought he had, he flipped you over onto your hands and knees. You barely kept your balance before he slammed back in, knocking your arms out from under you. Your front half fell to the bed, and you gripped the sheets to hold on for dear life. He was deeper now, each thrust ramming his head against your cervix. Tears pricked at your eyes; the pleasure so intense you almost weren’t sure you could handle it. Then, his hand came down harshly on your ass and you yelped.

"Fuck, do that again please." You pleaded and you could practically hear him smirk. He landed another hit, on the other side this time, most likely leaving a big red handprint. The somewhat flimsy wooden bed frame provided by the college rocked, the headboard knocking into the painted brick wall. If you weren’t being fucked out of your mind you would have made note that despite the unsteadiness, a lot of students had probably done something like that. That alone proved the resilience of the beds. Your hands above your head were gripping your sheets hard, and his hands left your hips to cover yours. He linked his fingers with yours, his thrusts getting slightly off rhythm. As he fucked his cock into you, each time he buried fully back into you, more of your braincells floated away. Nothing else came to mind but your impending orgasm.

"Doyoung…gon-gonna cum~." You whined.

"Me too, hold on a bit, princess," he grunted, leaning over you more, one arm wrapping around your middle, so his hand laid on your lower stomach. His thrusts got shallower, but no less deep, pressing on your tummy to feel himself inside you.

"Cum inside." You told him and he almost outright stopped.

"I'm on birth control pills, please cum inside." You pleaded and he swore several times, grinding into you. When you felt his hot cum shooting inside, it knocked you over the edge. You saw stars and swore you blacked out for a few seconds. When you came to, he was pulling out and a great deal of fluid was flowing down the inside of your thighs.

"You squirted." He informed and you barely registered what he said.

"Huh?"

"You soaked me." He chuckled and you propped yourself up to look back at him. You gaped at the very obvious splatter of wet covering his lower half.

"Shit! I'm sorry! I've never done that before!"

"Shh, it's okay. It was hot." Doyoung chuckled and you sighed in relief. You slowly let your body fall to the bed till you were laying on your stomach.

"Where’s the bathroom?"

"Second door across the living room." You waved your hand, already feeling drowsy. You listened as he partially clothed himself, pulling his underwear and pants back on, then left your room. Since you didn’t hear anything, you assumed your roommates were not home and he came back with a warm, damp washcloth. He was incredibly attentive and helped you clean up. Slowly, you sat up as he threw the towel on your dirty laundry. He picked his shirt up off the floor and handed it to you.

"I have clothes to change into," you pointed at your dresser, and he shook his head.

"Please?" He gave you a smug look and you narrowed your eyes at him. Snatching the shirt from him, you buttoned it up and you smiled at how the fabric pooled over you. The sleeves went past your hands, and you could practically wear it as a dress and still be decent to go outside. He sat on your bed, and you just stared at each other for a bit.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" He asked, almost sheepishly. You furrowed your brow dramatically.

"What kind of question? YES, of course!" You glared and he laughed, tackling you. Since you were on a twin sized bed, you both could barely fit. He pressed his back against the wall and hugged you so close to him there was still a good four inches of bed at your back. You buried your head in the crook of his neck and reached to pull the comforter over you two.

"What about when your roommate comes home?" He asked as you cuddled. You glanced behind you at the clock.

"I'll text her; she can sleep on the couch." He reluctantly let you get up to retrieve your phone. You stood, texting, and he admired you in just his shirt.

"Be nicer if it was red."

Masterlist

#ihavethedreamies #kpop #nct #nct 127 #kpop x reader #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #nct doyoung #nct 127 doyoung #nct x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct smut #nct 127 smut #smut #doyoung smut #doyoung x reader

181 notes · View notes

gloomwitchwrites · 4 months

Text

Tattoo Artist Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Chapter Specific Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): canon-typical swearing, kissing / making out, heavy suggestive themes, teasing / flirting, Simon being boyfriend material, slightly possessive Simon

Word Count: 5.6k

A/N: Part Seven of Ink & Needle

You meet Simon at 141 Ink in the morning as promised. Tension ensues. An unplanned date commences.

Chapter Six // Chapter Eight

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // ink & needle masterlist

Spiderwebs are delicate, intricate things. They are works of art that kill, trapping and tangling their prey within their glossy strings. Beautiful. Deadly.

Simon is a spiderweb. Has been since the moment you met him at Riot Room. His dark allure drew you in until you stuck and went with him into that green room. Then, he devoured you to the point of ruin.

No other touch has lived up to his. It doesn’t matter that it has been three years and you’ve tried to find him in so many different people. Not one could ever be him. No one could ever touch or worship you like he had in Riot Room’s basement.

Your wraith. Ghost. Simon. Who, after all this time, still thinks about you. Still craves you to the point of near obsession.

Have you not thought about me? Not once? Because I’ve thought of you. Every day.

Simon’s words are phantoms. They haunt you, clinging to you the rest of the day and well into bed when you stared at the ceiling and replayed his words in your head. Your response to those sweetened bullets was no lie. You’ve thought about him often, wanted to know where he was and what he was doing with his life.

Now you know. And yet it doesn’t feel complete. There are so many hollow sections to your wraith. But that hardly matters because the two of you are constantly in orbit of the other. Tied by a teether or maybe gravity. Spinning toward each other until the smaller mass succumbs to the greater object.

The two of you are moving dangerously close to a collision.

Which is why your hands nervously tug on the ends of your sleeves outside 141 Ink. You promised Simon you’d come see him in the morning, and here you are. And you do want to see him, to speak to him, to slide into his lap and feel his lips again.

Yesterday’s kisses roll up to the forefront of your mind, taking root in the cervices of your brain. Memory surfaces, causing your cheeks to heat. It is the recollection of his warm but rough hand in yours, of how his arms wrapped around you in a perfect embrace, and the taste of him that you never forgot and longed to keep exploring.

And what if I wanted it to be more? What if I still want it to be more?

Simon wants this to be more. He desires a relationship beyond what the two of you had in Riot Room. You felt it then, creeping into your bones and senses until it was an all-consuming sensation that made you bolt. Even then, you knew.

Now, the idea sounds wonderful. Beautiful. Terrifying.

The door to 141 Ink is shut. The lights are off. The front of the building is a deep purple in color, almost black in appearance like an eggplant. The door itself is black with the 141 Ink logo in the center above a small window on the bottom half. It’s an odd place for a window, but Simon has a dog, Bravo, and it’s likely for him.

Above the storefront are two levels of old red brick. There are a total of three windows on each level. Nearly all of the other buildings along the street have this. It’s likely an apartment. Maybe two. Simon might be up there right now if he in fact lives above the parlor.

You purposefully came early so that maybe—just maybe—Simon might not be there, and you could brush it off, saying that he missed you. Make up another time to meet. Because that’s what you always do. You run. You bolt. You hide.

And hiding seems awful. It is that instinct that drives you to do it, to keep yourself safe and protected, to keep control. Simon isn’t someone you want to run away from this time. He was so earnest and sincere yesterday when you were in his lap and his lips were pressed to yours.

You also noted how aroused he was, the solidness of him grinding against your core every time your hips shifted in his lap. In that moment, you were thrust back to Riot Room, to how he felt inside you, and how perfectly your bodies fit together.

You were made for him, and he for you. In that tiny room, you knew.

But you’re also starting to panic. Simon has not showed, and perhaps you’ve arrived far too early. Which is funny, since just a few days ago the door to 141 Ink stood open about this time. It’s not too farfetched to believe he’d be up at this hour on a Monday.

You’re not even standing directly in front of the door. You’re nearly on the curb, pacing, questioning whether you should turn around right now and go back home or see this through. Amelia is probably putting the kettle on, and you didn’t eat before you left.

On cue, your stomach growls and you frown down at it, beginning to walk away.

The moment you turn and take a step, the familiar sound of deadbolts unlocking snarls your attention. You freeze, clutching the front of your coat as the door to 141 Ink swings open.

Simon is right there. One hand on the handle of the door, and the other leaning against the wooden doorframe. He’s so tall and broad. Like this, you can see all of him clearly. Yes, Simon is a little softer in some areas, but it only adds to his thickness, making you hunger to know what it’ll feel like when you’re under him.

When. When. As if you know it’ll happen. That none of this will fizzle out but extend outward, heading toward that inevitable collision.

Because you were never under him before. But you think about it now. How those massive arms of his will hold you down, pin you beneath him, create a cage you won’t want to be released from.

“Hi,” you say, almost breathy.

“You came,” replies Simon. It’s an exhalation. A relief and happiness laced into the words that he speaks. You cannot see his features beneath the balaclava, but his body language and tone of voice tell you all you need to know.

Simon’s hand drops from the door frame and he steps to the side, gesturing for you to enter. He doesn’t move out of the doorway, and you’re forced to squeeze by him. The heat of him is strong, and his scent is decadent. Rich. Smoky. Like a foggy day in the Pacific Northwest or a quick, frantic kiss in a London alleyway. You have to force yourself not to turn into him, to inhale and remember him like this.

Now that you’re actually inside 141 Ink you can see the space for what it is. The inside of the tattoo parlor is industrial with exposed brick walls and dark wood floors. The lighting is warm, brightening up the space. Above you are black metal pipes and a solid support beam. In the back of the space is the tattooing area. While you can see some of the chair, most of it obstructed by a short privacy wall. Behind that and to the right of it is storage, and to the left is a small office space with a desk. Overall, it’s fairly simple, but inviting.

Bravo greets you with an enthusiastic tail wag that sends a breeze your way. You laugh and hold out your palm. Bravo immediately sniffs your hand like you have a treat hidden somewhere. But you don’t, and while the German Shepard seems briefly disappointed, it’s short-lived. He nuzzles your hand and you promptly scratch under his chin and behind his ears.

“Can’t have her all to yourself, Bravo.” Simon’s gruff voice slips over you like a comforting blanket. There is humor in his tone, but underneath is a hint of possessiveness.

Your cheeks heat, and you pull away from Bravo, only to turn to face Simon. He’s so close, and when you’re fully facing him, Simon slides an arm around your waist and draws you even closer. Your hands instinctually go out to rest against his firm chest.

Underneath your palms, beneath his shirt, are his pectorals. They flex under your hands as he inhales, and he draws you closer still. Simon’s free hand, the one not currently wrapped around your waist, delicately cups your cheek, cradles it so gently that you begin to melt.

Simon is strong. This man could easily break you—or anyone—and yet this tenderness is so out of place, like it shouldn’t be possible with a man like him. But your wraith is capable, loving, and you find yourself pressing into him, hands sliding up his chest to lightly tease the bottom of his balaclava.

While you’d like it off, to see Simon fully, you know that’s a limit. You don’t push it, but you do tug a bit, indicating what you want. Your gaze flicks upward, only to meet a gaze that is as soft as Simon’s touch.

Those perfectly pale eyelashes are gently halos against his dark eyes. His brown irises remind you of light through a whiskey bottle. Everything about his gaze is relaxed including his brow and eyelids. It’s a startling look, one that speaks to deep desire.

The very idea sends a ripple of heat to your core, warming you between your legs. This is the intimacy you noticed back at Riot Room, that Simon’s gaze was more than someone simply interested in a quick hook up.

“Can I kiss you now?” he asks, tone nearly a purr. “Or are you going to make me wait a bit longer?”

Your lips pull back into a soft smile. “Are you teasing me?”

Simon’s pulls you flush against him, and the hand attached to that arm slides from your hip to the curve of your ass, squeezing. “I think you’re the one teasing.”

You squeak, then laugh as Simon removes his hand from your cheek to wrap that arm behind your back. You’re trapped against him, and even though you cannot see his mouth, you can see the way the balaclava stretches as he smiles.

With gentleness, you slip your fingers beneath the edge of the balaclava, easing it up over his chin and mouth to rest against the top of his nose. His blackout neck tattoo is on full display, as is the scar that runs along his jaw. You remember that scar, and one of your fingers absently traces it.

Simon turns into the touch, and then your finger is brushing over his bottom lip. He lightly kisses your finger, and then nips at it playfully.

“Stop,” you laugh.

“Then give me your mouth,” replies Simon, his head dipping to chase what he’s asking for.

You happily give it to him.

The moment your lips meet, you melt into Simon, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. Simon surrenders to you as much as he seeks control. The arms around your waist shift as his hands start to explore, caressing your back, hips, ass, and thighs in tender strokes.

Simon does not shove his tongue down your throat. He doesn’t push or guide you anywhere. All he does is kiss you, as if that is all he needs. As if it is enough. There is the faintest hint of smoke and black tea on his tongue, and it is comforting.

That is what Simon is. What you’ve been missing. Comfort. He is so warm and bright and bold even though you know him as your wraith. He is not a demon at all, or a creature out of hell. At least, not with you, and it is fucking delicious.

The heat of arousal burns in your core, and though you’d love to take this to more private corners, you can maneuver Simon into a more intimate position. That way, you don’t have to be on your goddamn toes to kiss him.

At the moment Simon breaks away to take a breath, you turn out of his embrace, his lips meeting your cheek instead of your mouth. Simon grunts, and you attempt to wiggle out of his arms.

“No.” And it’s nearly a growl that escapes his throat. “I haven’t had nearly enough.”

Simon’s words are a bolt to your core. Your fingers tighten in the fabric of the collar of his shirt, and he dives in again, claiming your mouth in a deep kiss. You’re primed, wired. You want to have a little control.

Pushing on his chest, Simon reluctantly releases you, but he does not allow you to move away from him. You’re still tucked against his chest, and his head hangs low, creating a deeper sense of closeness. He runs his thumb over your cheek at the same moment your gaze darts to the nearby sofa.

141 Ink’s waiting area consists of two small sofas. One is pushed directly against the wall facing the street under the massive front window. The other is against the wall that connects to it, creating a tiny nook at the front of the shop.

Simon’s gaze follows yours. “You want to sit?”

I want to sit in your lap you think.

Carefully, you place your hand on his chest and push enough to indicate that you want Simon to move. He does, walking backward toward the black leather sofa as your hand guides him. When the backs of his legs knock into the couch, Simon sinks to a seated position.

At first, he’s sitting up straight, forearms resting on knees, all of his curious attention focused on you. With exaggerated slowness, you take off your coat. First the left shoulder, and then the right, tossing it onto the sofa beside Simon.

Simon immediately rests his back against the sofa, spreads his legs, and drapes his arms over the top of it. The corner of his mouth twitches with a hint of an amused smile. He drops one arm to rest his palm against his thigh.

He doesn’t say anything. He only rubs his hand there. Back and forth in silent invitation.

It’s so much like Riot Room that you forget you’re in Simon’s tattoo parlor.

His chest heaves, each inhalation deep like he too is full of anticipation. It’s clear that Simon is reigning himself in, pulling back enough to not scare you off or force you into anything you don’t want to do. All he wants is your permission first, and when he has that, it’s over. Done. You’ll submit to whatever he wants.

You know this.

And he knows this.

Standing between his legs, you lift one leg and plant your knee on the outside of his thigh, repeating the motion with the other, before settling in his lap.

“We need to stop meeting like this,” says Simon, as his head tilts back. Your mouth comes down on his throat, and Simon groans. “On second thought, I like meeting like this.”

You smile against his skin, peppering his throat with little kisses before following the line of his jaw, and then finally his lips.

Maybe it’s too much for him, because Simon immediately grabs for you, hands roaming everywhere, leaving nothing untouched. It’s a possessive, needful series of touches that is laced with desperation. You are equally needy—equally wanting to consume and touch and devour every bit of this man.

Simon sparks something bright within you. Gives it life. Blows the low embers into resounding fiery brilliance. You are perfect in his arms. You never want to leave.

His hands slide under your sweater, under your shirt, finding your skin. It’s just the tip of his fingers at first, and then his palm. Then he is grabbing hold, squeezing your waist, moving upward until his hand slides into the space between your breasts before retreating.

You whimper at the loss, and Simon breaks the kiss, only to give you more along your jaw and the spot behind your ear.

Simon’s head dips, nuzzling your throat, the balaclava scratching against your cheek.

“I want to kiss you,” murmurs Simon as his lips brush against the side of your neck.

You laugh, fingers lightly digging into his biceps. “My lips are right here.” You turn toward him and meet his dark gaze.

“I’m not talking about these lips,” replies Simon, his thumb gently pulling on your bottom lip. He releases it and it bounces back into place.

“Oh,” is all you say, startled.

Memories emerge. Sensual ones. Dirty ones. The ones from Riot Room when you were bent over and Simon was behind you, tonguing you like it was all he ever wanted.

But how far can the two of you go before someone interrupts this private moment. If you say yes, would he do it right here, or would he take you somewhere else, and if you agree, would that be it? Or would the two of you keep going until there was nothing between your bodies?

Just skin against skin.

“Oh?” he asks, amused. Simon’s hand slides to the back of your neck, drawing you back to his lips. This kiss is much gentler than the rest.

He lets it linger, only pulling away enough to look into your eyes. “I’d very much like to kiss you.”

You swallow, knowing what he means. He’s not talking about your lips or face or neck. Simon is talking about the rest of you. The place between your thighs. The small, sensitive flesh that has so easily made you come undone for him before.

As you begin to form a response, your stomach growls. It’s loud, completely betraying the fact that you were too nervous this morning to eat.

Simon’s lips part like he’s about to say something but your stomach interrupts him again. He shakes his head, grabs your waist, and easily lifts you out of his lap and onto your feet.

“Bravo, watch the shop.”

Bravo barks as Simon grabs your coat off the couch and presents it to you, opening it up for you to slide your arms inside.

“Simon—”

“Don’t,” he interrupts, and you snap your mouth shut under his command, sliding your left and then right arm into your coat. Simon helps ease it over your shoulders, and then he walks off into what you guess is a back hallway. He returns with his own coat, tugging it on just as Bravo takes up position near the door.

There is no asking. Simon takes your hand and guides you to the door, ushing you out into the cold. The moment the door is shut, you see Bravo’s face appear in the window as he hops onto the couch.

Simon has not released your hand once, not even when he uses his free hand to lock up the shop. Dropping his keys into his pocket, Simon effortlessly pulls you into his side, releasing your hand to slide an arm around your waist.

The way Simon tucks you against him forces you to turn into him, to wrap one of your arms around his waist, to rest your head against his shoulder. For a moment—a brief flash—there is peace like this. It’s so natural to hold onto him. Even like this, everything is in place, as if you were always meant to occupy this spot.

Then, the two of you are walking down the street together like any other couple.

But are you a couple? Is this what it is? Or are you making it all up in your head, weaving a fabrication of what you desire versus the reality?

Simon snuggles a bit closer to you, and you immediately forget your trepidation. He is so goddamn warm, a buffer against the chilly autumn air.

It isn’t until the two of you come to the bakery you visited the other day that Simon untangles himself, leaning forward to open the door for you before you have the chance to. Inside, it is balmy. Freshly baked bread and sugar is in the air. It is heavenly, and you inhale deeply, allowing the sugar to saturated into your nostrils.

Simon is right there, guiding you toward the cases. You remember the croissants, and how crushed they were. You didn’t even get to enjoy it properly.

“Usual?” ask the woman behind the counter.

Simon nods, and she opens one of the cases, removing not one, not two, but three chocolate croissants. You look up at him, a question forming on your lips. Simon side-eyes you and shrugs.

“This one will have an American.” Simon indicates you with a quick tilt of his head. Your eyebrow arches, but Simon ignores it.

You cross your arms over your chest, turning toward him fully to ask him what it is he thinks he’s doing. But Simon still ignores you. He puts in an order for tea for himself, and then rattles off your coffee order.

How the fuck does he know that?

Simon digs around for his wallet but you’re already putting your hand on his arm. “You don’t need to.”

“I want to,” he replies, handing over some cash to the woman behind the counter. He puts the change into the tip jar, and then places his hand on your lower back. “Follow me. I know a spot.”

You surrender to him, allow Simon to take the lead. He escorts you to a set of stairs leading to a second level. You follow behind him, the stairs spitting the two of you out into a cozy space. It’s mostly sofas and armchairs with a few sparse tables, and there is no one else up here besides the two of you.

Simon guides you to the massive window at the far end of the room. There are two small lounge chairs and a table that face the large window. Simon takes off his coat and tosses it onto the back of one of the chairs. You do the same.

“Sit here,” he instructs. “I’ll be back.”

“Yes, sir,” you mutter, not thinking Simon hears you. He grunts and pinches your butt.

“Ow,” you say in response even though it didn’t hurt. Your arm goes out to swat at him but Simon is already gone, taking massive steps toward the stairs.

You watch him go, sliding into the chair in front of you. It’s overcast today, and the traffic on the road is starting to pick up. Simon arrives minutes later carefully balancing two drinks and two plates. You stand to help him, arms outward to catch anything that might fall, but somehow Simon manages it, setting it all down on the table without issue.

You didn’t know the bakery sold made to order food. And staring down at the plate, you’re close to tears. It’s a classic American breakfast with all the fixings you could want. Since coming to England, you’ve missed it.

Looking down at the plate reminds you of all the times you, Evie, Jade, and Sam would go for breakfast food after a night of drinking. There are so many memories of the four you packed into a booth at Waffle House consuming cheap coffee and smothered hashbrowns. But this plate before you is much nicer than the cheap breakfast you’d consume still buzzed from whatever alcohol you’d been downing.

Simon’s plate has the three chocolate croissants on it, and it’s clear that they warmed them up because the chocolate inside is perfectly melted. Simon sighs happily as he takes a bite.

“Sweet tooth?”

Simon drinks his tea before he answers. “I like sweet things.”

“Like chocolate croissants?”

“Like you.”

Your fingers hover above your fork. Your face steams like a pot of boiling water. There is no reason to be this nervous, to be this on edge with him. This man has been inside you. This man understands how to make you melt in his hands.

“You’re teasing again,” you reply, finally picking up your fork and digging in.

“Am I?” he asks, tearing away another chunk of the croissant to pop into his mouth.

The eggs on your plate are perfectly fluffy and melt on your tongue. You don’t even need to use your knife to cut into your waffles. They part like butter.

You’re in a bakery, eating breakfast that Simon ordered for you, and you have no idea where to take this conversation. This is too real—too date-like, and while that twists your stomach into a knot, it is also an uplift of wind.

Simon didn’t need to do any of this, but he wanted to. There was no question whether or not you wanted to eat, Simon just took it into his own hands.

Because he wants to take care of you says a little voice in your head.

Simon’s words from yesterday show their colors again, waving them around in front of your eyes.

And what if I wanted it to be more? What if I still want it to be more?

You swallow down a syrup-coated bite of waffle and decide to change the subject.

“You promised that you’d fit me into your schedule,” you say.

“I did,” he agrees, the slightest bit of hesitation in his tone.

“Do you have a time or date in mind?”

Simon smiles against the rim of his tea mug before he takes a sip. “You tell me when and I’ll make it happen.”

“So if I wanted to do it now, you would?”

Simon doesn’t even hesitate. “I’d call my first client and reschedule.” He says it so easily, like it’s not an inconvenience to anyone, even though forcing someone else to move to make room for you seems entirely unfair.

“You don’t need to do that for me,” you murmur.

Simon sets the mug down on the table. “What if I want to do it? Does that not matter?”

“Of course it does,” you breathe. “I just don’t want to inconvenience anyone.”

Simon is already halfway through his second croissant. “You’re never that. Not to me.” He looks so serious, so upset that you’d even believe that about yourself.

“Do I book a consultation first?” you ask, trying to bring the conversation back to a lighter note.

“You can look through my portfolio when we go back. If you want.” Simon absently rubs at the back of his neck before stretching and resting one arm behind you on your chair. His fingers lightly brush against your spine.

He nods toward your plate. “Finish up and we’ll head back.”

Simon adjusts in the chair, his hips flexing slightly as he shifts. His gaze is out on the street, tracking every person and car. It’s odd. You recall him mentioning that he was military when the two of you first met, and perhaps this is just a habit.

You take your time, enjoying every bite, and when you’re done, Simon stands first, offering his hand before offering your coat. When it’s on, he checks you over. There are two worry lines that slice between his brow, but you’re unsure of what might be bothering him.

Should you ask? Would he even want you to? Simon has been open with you about what he wants, but not necessarily about himself. Those are pieces you don’t have. You don’t have a full picture of him. It is unclear, but you wish that it wasn’t. And you hope, with time, that Simon will open up, giving you those pieces of himself to hold within your heart.

With fingers intertwined, Simon escorts you downstairs. He stops at the counter to snag a large homemade dog treat from a glass jar before the two of you return to 141 Ink. Simon hands you the treat to give to Bravo, and the adorable German Shepard couldn’t be happier. His front paws joyfully dance against the floor, his entire butt moving with his tail as you remove the paper label from around the treat’s middle.

When you present the treat to Bravo, he doesn’t dive for it. He takes it gently from your hand and then promptly finds a spot in the window light, peacefully munching away at it.

“Here,” says Simon, offering a thick black book.

You take it with both hands, shifting the massive tome to one arm so that you can open the cover. It’s Simon’s official portfolio. The title page includes his credentials, contact information, and some stylized shots of his artwork. You flip the page, completely absorbed in the art before you. You don’t even realize how long you’ve been standing there staring down at the portfolio until Simon clears his throat.

“You can sit down.” He lightly lifts his arm in the direction of the sofa.

“Right,” you laugh, cradling the portfolio like it’s a precious gift and you don’t want to break it. You sink down onto the sofa and Bravo pads over, laying down next to your legs, resting his head on your feet.

Simon motions to the tattoo chair behind him. “I need to finish setting up.”

“Of course. Don’t worry about me.” You have your coffee, a foot warmer, and this beautiful book of art.

While Simon sets up, you take this moment to observe him in his natural element. He is so calm as he moves about the space. He’s efficient too, completely focused on the task at hand without looking rushed or stressed.

Bravo shifts, rolling onto his side. You reach down and scratch at the dog’s belly. When you return to the book, you’re lost in the color and talent, entirely absorbed in the artwork. Some of the photos are of actual tattoos while others are high-resolution photos of his artwork. Whether they’ve been sketched on paper or done digitally is unclear to you.

Regardless, Simon is talented. And you start to form an idea about where this talent came from. He’s ex-military. Did he have time on deployment to sketch? Did he ever carry a little notepad or sketchpad with him wherever he was in the world? It’s a sweet image, and one you’re achingly curious about.

“Simon.”

He immediately gives you all his attention. He sets down whatever it is he’s holding in his hand and walks over to you.

“You good?” he asks when he saddles up on the opposite of your legs from where Bravo lays. Delicately, he reaches out and runs his thumb across your cheekbone.

“Yes,” you say, flustered by the touch. “I had a question.”

He nods, indicating that you should ask.

“Did you make art while you were in the military?”

Simon shifts on his feet. “I did.”

He doesn’t say anything more, which is frustrating, but it’s something you want to know. So you push anyway.

“On deployment or…?” You trail off, hoping he takes it.

Simon shrugs. “Not really. My deployments were numerous but short term. Focusing on…covert assignments in classified locations.”

Short-term deployments? Covert assignments? Classified locations?

You frown. “Like American Special Forces?”

He shrugs. “They’re comparable.” It’s not the answer you wanted. But Simon must know this because he sighs and continues. “I created mostly on my time off, and sometimes on base if I was training new recruits. Had lots of time.”

“I see,” you reply softly, trying to imagine Simon curled up in a bunk late at night sketching away.

“See anything you like?”

Simon means in the portfolio but you can’t help thinking he means himself.

“It’s all amazing,” you murmur, flipping back through the pages. You point to several pieces that you particularly like. “But they don’t have to be like this. I’ll take whatever you come up with.”

Simon nods and takes the portfolio. “I can sketch up a few ideas, show them to you later. Start small and if you’d like more, I’ll add to it. Sound good?”

“Yes,” you nod. “It sounds wonderful.” Reluctantly, you push off from the sofa, and Bravo makes a muted sound in the back of his throat like he’s annoyed that you’d actually get up and disrupt his slumber.

“What do I owe you?”

Simon’s brow rises slightly. “Owe me?”

“It’s a consultation, isn’t it?”

Simon shakes his head. “Forget it.”

“Simon—”

“Not happening.”

“I need to do something for you.”

“You owe me nothing. Consider the tattoo a gift.”

You shake your head. “I can’t accept that.”

Simon shrugs. “You can.” He glances over at the clock and the middle of his brow creases. “My first customer will arrive soon.”

“Are you dismissing me?” You’re teasing him, and he knows it.

Simon steps into your space, his hand sliding to the back of your neck, keeping you in place. “You’re welcome to stay.”

You do long to stay, but there are so many things on your plate. Groceries is priority, especially since you’ll be staying with Amelia for a while. You’re not letting that woman pay for everything. You’ll be damned if you take advantage of such a sweet old lady.

“Probably better that I’m not a distraction,” you breathe, entirely on edge from how possessively he holds onto the back of your neck.

“Probably,” replies Simon, slotting his pelvis against yours. You feel the hard length of him and shiver. His other hand reaches for your hip, and you cannot do anything else but allow it, melting into his body as he pulls you close.

“One to keep me hanging?” he asks softly.

You smile, and push up the balaclava enough to press your lips to his. You go back to flat fleet. “So you can think about me all day.”

“Count on it.”

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @lialacleaf @theshrikeandcanary @coffeecaketornado @wren5650 @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @creamwhxre @pearljamislife @wrathofcats @keiva1000 @pertinentpostmortem @enfppixie @bbyfimmie @cinnabeanz @berarenado @rogerrhqpsody @c0pernicus @josephquinnschesthair @corvusmorte @saoirse06 @therealbloom @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @marispunk @thewulf @knight4xmas @jupiternighties @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics

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romanoffshouse · 3 months

Text

A Day In The Snow

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: You spend the first snowfall of the season with Wanda Maximoff.

Word count: 680

A/N: I know I'm very late in posting this. I wrote this fic weeks ago and totally forgot that I have it in my drafts. I hope you like it!

Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Today was your day off so you and Wanda could spend the whole day together. When you woke up, you looked out the window and saw the first snowfall of the season. You loved snow and were so happy that it was finally snowing. You looked back at Wanda, who had her arms wrapped around you and her head on your chest. After Wanda woke up as well, the two of you cuddled in bed for a while until you decided to get up.

You walked to the window and started smiling when you saw how heavily it was already snowing. You turned around and looked at Wanda who was still in bed.

“Wanda, look outside it’s snowing!” You yelled out of excitement and made Wanda chuckle.

Wanda stood up and walked over to you. She reached for your hand and you both watched the snow fall from the window.

“We should go outside after breakfast.” Wanda suggested and you nodded with a smile.

Then the two of you went downstairs to the kitchen to have breakfast. For breakfast, Wanda made pancakes with fruit and maple syrup. After breakfast you put on your warm shoes, a jacket, a scarf and a hat and went outside.

When you opened the door, you ran outside because you hadn’t seen so much snow in a long time. You walked around and then stuck your tongue out to catch a snowflake.

“Look! I caught a snowflake in my mouth!” you said, and Wanda smiled at you.

“Let’s build a snowman!” Wanda suggested and you nodded.

Wanda and you started to form snowballs. Wanda formed the stomach, and you formed the head. After you both finished, Wanda helped you carry the snowball you made over the one she made, to make it to a snowman. Then you took some stones that you found on the ground and used them as eyes and buttons. Wanda went inside and took a carrot for the nose. Then you both took a step back and glanced at the snowman.

“He’s so cute! Just look at the snowman!” Wanda said, looking over at you with a smile.

“Something’s missing.” You said, looking around thoughtfully.

“Really? I think he’s perfect.” Wanda said.

When you finally knew what was missing you reached for the hat that Wanda was wearing.

“Hey, what are you doing!?” Wanda asked in a confused tone.

But you continued doing what you wanted to do and placed the hat on the snowman’s head.

“Now he’s perfect. He just needed a hat.” You said to her and smiled.

After that Wanda grabbed for her hat. “Why did you do that? You ruined a perfectly good snowman!”

After a few minutes, you started to form a snowball.

“Snowball fight!!!” you shouted as you threw the first snowball at Wanda.

“Hey, watch my head! You almost got me in the face!” She shouted but then also started to form a snowball and threw it at you. A snowball fight had started, and you and Wanda were having a lot of fun in the snow, but after a while Wanda noticed that you were getting cold. She dropped the last snowball to the ground and looked at you.

“We should go back inside.” Wanda suggested.

“I don’t want you to catch a cold.” She continued to say and walked closer to you.

“Okay” you nodded.

“You’re probably right.” You spoke and Wanda came closer to you and took your hand in hers.

Once you were inside, you both sat down on the couch and Wanda went into the kitchen to make you both a cup of hot chocolate. After a few minutes she came back and sat down next to you.

“I love hot coco.” You said and Wanda smiled at you. Wanda rested her head on your shoulder and turned the TV on. After a while you cuddled up on the couch, while watching a Christmas movie. You had such a great day together and can’t wait to do that again.

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nburkhardt · 1 year

Text

At first he didn’t even know it was happening because he was working the late shifts and crashing over at Robin’s since they drove together. So, it wasn’t bothering him.

Then one random Saturday causes a domino effect.

They’re minding their own business, he’s in the middle of starting something for dinner while she’s figuring out what they’re watching and telling him about her failure of a date-not-a-date with Vickie.

“I’m telling you, Steven! She is not bisexual, I flirted, offered to play and had that lipstick Nance totally said looked good and I- what the fuck?” Her voice immediately squeaks out as his whole fucking apartment vibrates as loud as all hell, Metallica starts playing from under them.

He looks down at the floor, as if that’ll answer what just happened. It’s still playing, still loud as fuck and making his second hand chairs shift and knock over, “maybe the downstairs neighbor is having a party?” He offers loudly, looking over his shoulder to spy at her, she’s still sitting on the counter with the remote on the floor now.

“Sure?” She offers back, and hops down to grab the remote, “isn’t it a bit early for it?”

He shrugs and continues stirring the pasta, “it’s Saturday, maybe they just got home?”

They both shrug at that before just focusing on their tasks, with the now loud metal music vibrating the floors. It could be worse, he supposes, it could be gun shots or some couple loudly having sex.

Which, isn’t something he wants to hear with his platonic soulmate.

Then again, he realizes mid dumping the pasta in the sauce, that they could still be doing that just covering it up with the music? He shakes the idea out and tries focusing back on the food and listening to Robin venting.

It went on until fucking four in the morning.

But it was a Saturday. So, he didn’t see a need to complain too much. He remembers hosting parties in high school at his parent’s house and how loud they got too. Weekends are meant for excitement anyway, he usually has Sundays off anyway.

That wasn’t the last time though.

Since he works most weekdays and Robin promises ice cream and gossip after work, he spends nights on her couch instead of making the drive back to his place. Saturdays at his place because are saved for when it’s his turn to cook, so it becomes a pattern at four in the afternoon some loud music starts, goes on until four in the morning.

It’s annoying, but at least it’s just Saturdays.

That is until Robin decides to switch jobs on him and he of course, follows her to the new toy store that opened and with the promise of more benefits and morning shifts, he’s happy to get some relaxing evenings off.

After his first day of work spending it training and avoiding kids running under his feet, all he wants to do is crash on his nice warm bed.

But as soon as he gets to his door, the floor is vibrating. At first he thinks it’s just from a neighbor vacuuming with the world’s shittiest vacuum, shrugs and makes his way into his apartment. It’s only as he shuts the door and drops his keys on the table and they jump right out that next second.

That’s when he noticed his whole apartment is fucking vibrating and the sounds of loud screaming registers in his head. Again like the first time, he stared down at his floor. Wondering if the downstairs neighbor has shitty hearing or covering the sounds of loud sex.

Oh and that they know that it’s fucking Monday.

He mentions it the next day to Robin and they decide maybe it was a fluke and his neighbor just forgot what day it was.

It happens on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday.

He’d get home to a vibrating floor and loud as fuck music from below that lasts until four in the morning.

Friday rolls around, he takes it off for a doctors appointment. After the appointment and some errands, he gets home at three. Spends the time relaxing and eating leftovers, texts Robin about their plans for the weekend when at four o’clock, he hears the start of music. Then within a few minutes, he feels his couch start to shift and then everything else starts to vibrate.

“What the fuck, man.” He mumbles to himself as he stares at the stupid sailor boy figure slowly moves on his table, before it falls to the ground.

It’s annoying, but it’s okay he can handle this. He doesn’t need to say anything. The rest of the evening goes on, the music isn’t his favorite (mostly metal, some rock songs thrown in. Dio and Metallica are played the most) but it’s okay. The vibrations are annoying, but isn’t actually harming him. So, he goes about his routine.

What breaks him is the migraine that wakes him up; it’s the nausea that really wakes him up, not the still loud as fuck music playing. After the wave of nausea goes away, he looks at his phone.

Staring brightly at him is 3:00am.

Blinking, he groans and drops back on his pillows. He stares up at his ceiling, head starting to pulse with pain while he starts to notice the vibrations. The song switches to another screaming voice- then it gets louder and it’s only when his eyes start to burn from pain that he’s throwing his covers off with a determination.

He pounds on the door in only his sweats. The pounding in his head is just about lined up to the pounding from his hand, when the door swings open to reveal a guy with long curly, a dark red sweater and black sweats on. But the thing that really stands out is the fucking sunglasses.

Music is no longer playing, he doesn’t see anyone else in view, just the guy in the sunglasses.

“Oh hello there” The guy smirks at him, leaning against his door.

He shakes his head, which hurts but it clears enough for him to focus on his determination. “Hi, look can you just do your party or whatever this is, on the weekends? You’re making my apartment vibrate, man. I really don’t mind it, but I get migraines sometimes and this- whatever it is- has been happening for a while.”

The guy leans there and the smirk dies down but still sorta there. He pulls off his sunglasses and the world’s most adorable fucking Bambi eyes stare at him, even in the fogginess of the migraine, he could tell this man is gorgeous.

But now isn’t the time to focus on that. It’s stupid o’clock, he has a migraine and work in the morning. All he needs right now is the promise of easing up on the loud music.

Bambi eyes blinks at him then looks backwards into his apartment before looking at him again, he frowns and crosses his arms, a sheepish look crosses his face. “My bad, sweetheart. I’ll try to remember that. I didn’t think it was that bad-“

He doesn’t know what causes it but he blurts it out anyway, “it’s not bad! It’s not my favorite but it’s fine! Just the building has ridiculously thin everything”

Bambi blinks at him again and he curses his lack of filter, looks anywhere but at the face in front of him. The silence is weird but it’s that, that makes him notice that no one has called out for the music to start, hasn’t seen someone walk over and he processes the sweater and sweats combo that makes him blink at him, “Are you alone?”

There’s confusion across Bambi’s face, and holy shit this guy is adorable- it’s not the time! He scolds himself. Bambi takes another look behind himself and Steve gets the perfect view of a blush climb it’s way up Bambi’s neck and up his face. Then he looks back, “yep, just practicing. Trying to learn some new songs, only time I get.” He huffs a laugh, “didn’t know it could make the building vibrate, think you could forgive me?”

He can only nod, fighting his own blush. The guy looks smug, even if he’s getting told to stop this.

“Uh yeah, yeah. Thank you, honestly.” He can feel his cheeks heat up, “anyway, I should really get back to my room.” He awkwardly throws his thumb over his shoulder, “I’ll see you around”

As he shifts to walk away, he catches another smirk on Bambi’s face, it makes him pause just a moment before he actually goes to leave.

“Oh, for sure, sweetheart!”

Pulling the noise canceling earplugs out and the start of Master of Puppets starts, he rolls his eyes at the clock staring at him.

3:45AM

He throws off his blankets and slips out of the bed to leave the room. A fond smile spreads as he leans against the wall, in the corner is one of his favorite sights. Sleep has him in a sappy mood, he moves after a moment to tap a shoulder and it’s as he’s pulling out the earplug that he hears, “sorry sweetheart, got an idea and couldn’t help myself”

Steve rolls his eyes, “Eds, you were asleep with him.”

Eddie shrugs, placing the guitar on its stand before standing up and throws an arm around him pulling him close, “just had inspiration hit, sweetheart. I’ll finish it later, sleep now!”

He lets him lead him back to the bedroom and as they get comfortable under the covers, looking over at the clock on the wall, there clear as day it reads; 4:15AM.

~~~~

That ending is terrible but I’m starting to really feel my edible now and I can kinda tell this is starting to make absolutely no sense 🥴

It’s based off a tweet I saw earlier that said: “The apartment below us used to blast dance music from 4 PM to 4 AM every day it made our furniture vibrate. We assumed they were hosting pandemic parties? One night at 1 AM Brie went down there to beg for mercy and it was literally just one guy wearing sunglasses.” And I immediately thought of Eddie fucking doing that and Steve being done with it, and knocking on Eddie’s door. SO! I wrote this… sorry if the formatting is weird or it just doesn’t make much sense. I’m high, tried & rambling…. So I’m stopping this and just posting lol.

Oh it’s probably a litttttle late but this based on modern times 🫡

#oh just so everyone knows Eddie ends up blasting music that very next day…just to get Steve to go back #it works obv and Eddie asks Steve out #OH IMPORTANT INFO: Sailor Boy figure was a gag gift from Robin #steddie fic #steddie #Steve x eddie #modern au #steve harrington x eddie munson #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #Robin Buckley #Steve Harrington fic #eddie munson fic #nburkhardt writes #it might only be funny to me 🥴

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lovincherries · 2 years

Note

Hey, I would love a part 3 of just the tip. That fic is one of the best Elvis smut I have read. Maybe you could have him give the reader the ring in this part or something up to you!

Just the Tip Part 3

A/N: Yes!!!! This has a lot of fluff in it and smut at the end. I really intended for it to be sweet, but that would be so off brand for this series. If you guys would like me to continue the storyline, I will. Not proof read cuz im lazyyy. I’m going to take a break tomorrow since I’ve written two of these today

Warnings: fluff!!! for once lmaooo, also smut. breeding kink perhaps?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Elvis was more tentative after your conversation that turned into more than just a conversation, to no fault of your own. He tempted you at every chance he could get now, and because it was him, of course you could never say no. Although he was present more, something was off with him. He was hiding something from you, always seemed to be lost in thought. He was constantly rubbing your stomach now, seemingly gaining an obsession with it out of nowhere. You knew he wanted kids, that he would be great with them. You wanted kids too, but it would have to wait till after you were married. You knew in your heart that you were going to marry him, there was no second doubt in your mind about his promises to you.

His hand was laid on your stomach, you two were laid under the stars. He planned the most romantic date. He picked you up from your house, talked with your father (who wasn’t the biggest fan of him, said his dance moves provoked things), and then you two went on a picnic. It was all perfect, but he seemed so distracted at times. It was like he was so lost in thought, not listening to what you were saying.

“Elvis,” you spoke, no response.

“Elvis!” you said a little louder, jostling him trying to get his attention. It was only then that he noticed you were talking to him.

“What hun?” He lovingly asked, you saw how he looked at you with total admiration. It was enough to make your heart melt, enough for you to do anything for him.

“You’ve been so distracted lately, what’s been on that handsome mind of yours?” you questioned, playing with his hair as you did so. He leaned into your touch, craving it.

He sat up, pulling you up with him. He left you seated on the bed of his truck as he stood in front of you. “I’ve been meaning to ask you this question for a few weeks now, but I could never think of the right things to say to you,” he trailed off. Your heart began to race, excitement tearing through your veins. His blue eyes held a nervousness behind them, hands shaking until he put them into his pockets,

“I love the way you laugh, I love the way you dance when it’s just you and me, I love the way you put your whole heart into everyone and everything around you, and I love how you know what you want and you chase it. I love every dip and curve, every scar, every beauty mark, and every freckle. I love you more than I love to perform. You’re so incredibly smart and yet you picked me. You make me feel things I’ve never felt. I want to provide for you, want to be the man you need,” He thoughtfully spoke, letting out a sigh at the end. Tears were brimming in your eyes, he never spoke like this.

“What I’m trying to say is Y/N,” he got down on one knee and you let out a gasp. He pulled out a box from his pants, revealing a small but beautiful ring, “Will you marry-”

“Yes! A thousand times yes, Elvis,” you clapped your hands in excitement, his face full of joy with your enthusiastic response.

“Baby, you gotta give me your hand if you want the ring,” He laughed. You immediately put your hand down, “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry I forgot about that part.”

He put it on your left ring finger and it fit perfectly. You began crying for joy, this day was perfect.

“Now, I didn’t ask your daddy,” his smile faded, he hated that your dad didn’t like him. He tried so desperately hard to get him to like him, but your dad wouldn’t budge.

“My father be damned, I’m marrying the love of my life,” you squealed, grabbing his face with both your hands and pulling him into kiss you.

The kiss deepened, it was slow and passionate. It was love. He held your hips in his hands as he leaned over the tailgate of his truck. The pillows and blankets you had brought on your date scattered all around you. It was perfect.

You began to move back onto the truck bed, Elvis following your lead. He was now laying on top of you, his hands spreading your hips so he could fit between your legs. His lips left yours and he began to kiss down your neck, leaving soft and sensual kisses all over you.

You lifted your dress off this time, it had been weeks since you had done anything, and you needed him in this moment.

“Y/N, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” he said, with swollen lips and admiration on his face.

“I want to, want you to have all of me and more,” you whispered as you kissed him again. “Wanna do something for you.”

You flipped him over with your legs, so you were now on top of him. Your friend had told you about this thing she did to her boyfriend that he just loved, she called it a blowjob. She said that you would just suck on his penis and lick at it, that it would have him under your spell in minutes. It’s not like you needed Elvis to be anymore under your spell, you just wanted him to feel good. He always worked so hard for you.

You took his shirt off and began kissing down his chest to his belt line, your eyes never leaving his.

“Y/N, you don’t need to do that,” he said, grabbing your hair and attempting to lift you up to him again.

“I know, like I said, I wanna make you feel good,” you managed to say through your kisses. You attempted to remove his belt, but your hands were shaky from your nerves. You didn’t even begin to have a clue what you were doing, and you knew Elvis knew it.

You fumbled with the belt for a few seconds more before he just removed it himself, and you would be lying if you said it wasn’t hot. He was already hard, and you had barely done anything at all. You went back to your mission, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down before his hand grabbed your jaw and forced you to look up at him. His pupils were dilated, his hair a mess compared to his normal style, and cheeks were tinged pink. It was delightful.

“I have a better idea, darling” he rasped out, “something that will make you and me feel real good. Something new”

“What is it?” You asked, not having a clue what else he could want.

“Want you to ride me.” He stated. He didn’t ask, he demanded it of you.

“How do I do that?” You questioned, not really having a clue where to even start.

“I’ll guide you,” he smiled as he moved you, so your crotch was right on his dick. The only thing separating you from him, once again, was thin underwear.

You pulled his boxers down, attempting to take the initiative and try to make him feel good. His dick was so very hard, the tip was leaking. You guided your thumb over it, smearing the liquid all over the tip. He gasped at the contact, “can’t be doing that baby, too sensitive.”

He sat up, so now your chests were practically touching. He reached around your back to unclasp your bra. It didn’t occur to you till just now that you were doing this in public, a secluded part of the woods that Elvis claimed no one would find.

You were too into your thoughts to see him moving down to suck your nipple, lapping at it, and kissing it. It sent the hottest fire straight to your loins, surely there was not a pool in your panties but the whole ocean. He released your nipple with a pop.

“I’m gonna pull your panties to the side darlin’, gonna do it just like this. I’ll help ya,” he assured you as he pulled your underwear to the side, he lifted your hips up so your entrance was right at his tip.

“We’re gonna do just the tip at first, for old times’ sake,” he laughed, you couldn’t believe he was joking at a time like this. Your lungs were filled with a heat, like the air was knocked out of you. He slowly guided your hips down till you suctioned him in little by little, this angle was new, and it burned. He saw the wince on your face and comforted you, “doing so good for me darling,” he cooed in that southern drawl. His accent had you melting in a puddle every time he spoke.

You were slowly but surely taking him in, his eyes rolled into the back of his head as you bottomed out. It was too much for you, this angle was too deep. He was pressed too far into your cervix for it to truly be comfortable.

“I-I can’t Elvis, too deep,” your voice filled with discomfort as you tried to raise your hips up, but he made you stay put. His hands were strong, but you couldn’t stay like this. You were still chest to chest, his head now laying in the nape of your neck.

“Taking me so well, stay like this for a second more,” he requested in a hushed tone. You would do anything he asked, so you stayed despite the discomfort. You could’ve sworn a bulge was prominent in your stomach.

He slowly started to guide your hips up and down, not bottoming out every time. Without him so deep, this angle felt amazing. He moved one of his hands to rest on your stomach and the other on your back, almost like he was protecting something in a weird way. As soon as you thought about it, it disappeared. He began to meet your thrusts, it was slow, but it was deep.

His head left the nape of your neck, and he began to watch your stomach. You tried to quicken your pace, but the death grip he had on you prevented you from doing so. One hand still laid splayed out on your stomach and the other one started playing with your clit. The feeling caused your head to be thrown back as you continued to ride him like your life depended on it.

“don’t wanna hurt ya, love,” he mumbled, “don’t wanna hurt my baby.”

“I’ll be fine, Elvis,” you responded, he had never taken this much consideration into it before. “Let me fuck you.” You leaned into the nape of his neck now, trailing kisses up the side of it before finding his ear and biting it.

“No, I want it to be romantic,” he managed to breathe out. He had to think of an excuse quick and your pussy was suffocating him.

You continued at the same pace. You began to squeeze your walls around him even tighter as he continued to play with your clit. You couldn’t even think. You moved the hand that was laid on your stomach to your breast and let him grab. You did it so you could gain more control and fasten the pace just a tad, the bubble in your stomach already forming. It felt like ecstasy.

You started to fasten your face, and when he tried to move his hand to gain more control you kept it right there. He was throwing his head back in pleasure, his release nearing at you began to repeatedly squeeze and release him.

“Cum for me, Elvis, wanna make you feel good,” you whispered into his neck, biting at it and sucking. You did this till you couldn’t focus anymore.

He was fucking up into you now, he couldn’t resist himself anymore. You totally stopped moving as he did this, he soon released inside of you. You were on the brink of an orgasm as soon as you felt a prickle of warmth, and that just sent you over the edge.

You both laid there, breathing heavily, regaining your thoughts. Till it hit you like a pile of bricks, he just finished in you. You quickly got off of him, wincing as you let him go. Your walls were so sore. You laid on your back next to him as you reached for your vagina, feeling his liquid spill out of you. You gasped, he really finished in you.

“Elvis,” you said in a panic, you didn’t know what to do, you didn’t know what to do.

“What darlin’?” He lazily asked, eyes half closed.

“You finished in me,” you said in a rush, you were so panicked, and he was just so relaxed.

“Oh well,” he sighed contentedly.

Then it hit you even harder, his fixation with your stomach, him saying he didn’t wanna hurt his baby, the ring, and the fact that you were due for a period...

a/n: I lowkey hate doing that, but it fits like the first part. sooooo, i had to go along with it.

taglist: @Chaoticdefendortree @nananananannerman @vampiregirl444 @psychedelic-70s @dellahalewrites

#elvis 2022 #elvis presley #Elvis Presley imagine #austin butler elvis #Elvis smut #elvis biopic #elvisthepelvis #elvis movie #elvis #Austin butler #austin butler smut #Austin butler imagine #Austin butler x reader #Austin butler x reader smut

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tarnishedxknight · 1 month

Text

{out of dalmasca} Well... I'm finally home. I got home around 2:30PM. Saturday. For a same-day procedure scheduled for 4:30PM Friday that should have taken from check-in to discharge about 4-5 hours.

Yeeeeeeeah...

It. Was. An absolute nightmare. I'll briefly summarize below a cut for anyone who wants the dirt and to hear my harrowing tale of woe, lol, but long story short, it was one of the worst experiences of my life and I never want to go back to that hospital ever again, heh. Which.. is sad. I was born in that hospital. My mother was a nurse there for the majority of her career. She loved that hospital. My life was saved there when I was two and sick with JRA, and my dad's was saved when he was in his 60s and he got a rare blood infection. But this experience? -47/10 would not recommend. But it's done, the actual surgery went well, now I just have to heal up. =)

Okay, so. What happened was... someone who should've had a 2-hour surgery before me to have their appendix removed ended up having a cancerous tumor there that nobody expected. It was really in there good and wrapped around important things, and the surgery took 8 hours to safely remove it. So my appt. time was 4:30PM, I was told to get there at 2PM, I got there at 1:45PM... and I didn't have surgery until 11:45PM. It was a total fiasco of everything that could possibly go wrong... going wrong.

Machines broke down or malfunctioned. They did a random maintenance of the computer system so none of the nurse could log into their little mobile kiosk accounts. I had two different bed issues. One took three nurses to figure out how to lock it so it didn't move around (the table I was having surgery on), and the other bed (my post-op recovery bed) the nurse backed so far up that it got hiked up onto a drawer of a shelving unit behind it and then wouldn't raise or lower. When she figured this out, she closed the drawer, causing the bed to painfully and suddenly drop like 8 inches to the floor with me in it. My check-in nurse disappeared and they couldn't find him for a solid hour and I had to get another one and restart the whole process. Another forgot to take an IV port out of an elderly patient who had been next to me and let him go home with it, only to have to walk him through removing it over the phone later. None of this instilled confidence.

They put me in a room after surgery because "it's late now," and the phone didn't work in the room. Neither did the TV. That's okay because I couldn't see anything anyway AND I had no cell phone because my dad took them, because they told him he'd be coming back in a couple hours to take me home and then... just kidding. So I sat in one room for 8 hours before surgery, and then sat in another post-surgery for 13 hours. With. Nothing to do (except they did have a passable portable tv in the first room, which I'll get to in a second). Unable to see or make calls. And I had none of my meds that prevent other serious medical issues while sleep so......... I couldn't sleep. I had to fight to stay away or risk things going wrong in other ways. Dear gods, the boredom and stress.

I was put in a room with a terminally ill cancer patient who wanted to chat and tell me in gory detail everything about her illness. That... was not what I needed right just then. Then, she kept like... I would push the call button (once I found out where it was because nobody told me), and because I was hidden in the back and she was by the door, they would just ask her what she wanted, she'd get help to do this that or whatever, and then they'd leave again without even talking to me.

Just outside our room was the man who had the appendix out. He was shrieking, crying, and moaning all night long because he was in pain, and they couldn't give him anything for it because his blood pressure had bottomed out. It was like something out of a horror movie, except real, to listen to the sounds of agony this poor man was making. Extremely upsetting. I cried twice just because I had a visceral human response to the sounds he was making. Another reason why I got no sleep.

I am supposed to be on a low fat diet, at least until I heal. Also, when you have GE surgery, the last thing you want is to drink caustic acid. So what do they bring me for breakfast? Orange juice, raw pineapple, and tart strawberries (I could feel them all burning on the way down, I was in agony), and then scrambled eggs with melted cheese, fried breakfast sausages, and fried potatoes. Like. What the actual fuck. And coffee. I detest coffee. When I asked for tea I got looked at funny and told they couldn't give that to me. Apparently hot tea is a burn risk, but hot coffee is fine. Yeah, okay, sure. Tell that to that woman who sued McDonalds for burning her own lap. I couldn't eat the potatoes, they were so dry I was afraid of choking on them, it was ridiculous. But I ate and drank as much as I could because, all told during this process, I had gone 17.5 hours without water, and about 21 hours without food.

The reason they kept me overnight was because my surgeon just left afterward. He didn't talk to me, didn't give discharge orders, didn't say anything, he just left. Then, as of like 6AM when they called him, he didn't answer, until around 12PM when they gave up and called another doctor, who basically said yeah I'm busy I'll get to it when I get to it. Hence me not being released until 2PM.

And the pain is..... omg intense. Debilitating. Not at all what was described to me as what to expect. And I'm no wuss, I've been in and out of hospitals since I was two, I have 10 piercings, I had all four wisdom teeth extracted and was eating pizza later that same day lol, and I have a very high pain threshold, so for me to say the pain is A Lot™ is.... yeah. This is hell. I am in hell. XD

But I am home now and I just need to somehow get through the next few days until the pain gets better and my life gets more normal. My sleep schedule is all messed up and the pain is distracting, so I'm not sure when I'm going to be on to write. Over the next 3 days or so, I'll do what I can, when I can. If I feel like it's comforting and therapeutic, I will. If not, I won't.

BUT... the one ray of light in this hellish process was that in the room I was in for 8 hours the first time, they had a TV, and even though everything was blurry without my glasses, I found a channel playing movies. I got to watch the classic Ghostbusters II, which I love, and then they had back to back Iron Man and Iron Man 2. Got all the way through them, and then they moved me 10 minutes before IM2 ended, which was... rude. I've already seen it but still. That's so annoying. XD

The funny thing was, the night before surgery I was so anxious I couldn't sleep, so I was on my phone watching and listening to random videos and music. I found my favorite music video of Tony Stark/Iron Man that I hadn't seen in a long time, and it was weird for me to click on it because lately I haven't been writing him and I felt a bit detached from the character. So I thought it was funny that I randomly watched that the night before, and then I'm in the hospital watching Iron Man movies on their TV, haha. Needless to say, my muse for Tony is now through the roof, so... that's going to be a thing for a while.

Weirdly enough, watching Tony going through all the medical stuff with his reactor, and watching him battle his own anxiety and neuroticism, was strangely comforting to me sitting hours on end in a hospital awaiting surgery having one panic attack after another. I know, it makes no sense, you'd really think it'd make me more nervous, or that it would exacerbate my anxiety, but you'd be wrong. Neurodivergence ftw, heh. XD

Anyway, I'm home, I'm hurting, but I'm okay. And actually, despite everything going wrong, my actual surgery apparently went "perfect textbook" well. So that's the most important thing. I may be lurking for a couple days unless I get better sleep and my pain gets to a level where I can do more with my brain than just sit here and think.... ow. XD I'll see how I feel in the next few days and if I need to extend my hiatus from my regular rp schedule further, I'll let everyone know.

#{ out of dalmasca } ᵒᵒᶜ #tw: surgery #tw: medical #tw: cancer

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yichuuonvenus · 2 months

Text

Good Boys Get the Girl- III

Ethan Landry x Reader

Tainted Love- Chapters

~Warnings~

Rape/Non-con, Loss of Virginity, Cock Warming, Dacryphilia, Knifeplay, Forced Orgasms, Corruption, Murder, Blood, Nightmares, Stalking, Underage Drinking, Attempted assault, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Forced Relationship, Dacryphilia, Isolation

You stared up at the ceiling. You couldn’t focus on anything else except the harsh banging from the ROTC people above you. You turned over and stared at the wall filled with pictures of all your friends smiling.

Wes was there with a big grin, his arm wrapped around your shoulders. You could almost hear his laughs now and your giggles it was a sweet moment when that picture was taken. Just before the first days of freshman year.

You turned away and closed your eyes. You wanted to sleep more than anything but you didn’t want to go back into that dark abyss. You didn’t want to go back under to the horrors of your nightmares.

Your never-ending nightmares.

You thought about Wes and how he used to wrap his arms around you. You could recall a moment during New Year's. You both were sitting on the couch with drinks in hand. You were at Tara’s because her mom was never home.

Wes smiled at you and his face was so close to yours. Your lips were practically touching. Wes held your face. His thumb carefully smoothed over your lips. He pushed his lips onto yours. You were trying to keep up but you felt so weak to the point you couldn’t move that was when you felt hands around your throat.

His hand gripped tighter around your throat. You whimpered Wes’s name, and that was when you realized it wasn’t Wes who was holding you. It was Ghostface. They pulled out a knife with the other hand and plunged it deep into your chest. They stabbed you repeatedly until you screamed out.

You shot up out of bed shaking wildly and tears were pouring down your face. You took a deep breath and tried to find some composure again. You didn’t realize you fell asleep. Now you were mad at yourself for closing your eyes mistakenly.

You looked over at the clock. 7:45 AM was in a big red glow. Your roommate was already gone to her first class so you were the only one in the room.

You could feel yourself shaking as you clutched the blankets around you. Tears started forming in your eyes. You just wanted to go home but you knew even then that home wasn’t a good place either.

Painful memories haunted you there. Your own family was distant from you but still, you wanted to go home. You just wanted to be in a place where you weren’t so alone. You had Tara and Sam but you still felt like going to them for your problems was a bad idea. You didn’t want to give them that burden they already carried with them.

You hoped they would just go away. Maybe if you pretended that everything that happened last year didn’t happen it would all go away eventually.

Maybe just maybe.

. . .

Your face turned sour when a blonde-haired boy came up to you. You tried to hide it but you did a very bad job at it.

“Hey, um,” he stuttered.

You felt a bit bad for giving him a look now. But you wanted to be left alone after class.

“You were at that party right?”

Then for a brief moment, you remembered who this boy was. You recognized those dark green eyes.

“Yeah, I um…”

“I totally forgot I never told you my name,” he chuckled. “It’s Rylan. Everything kind of went haywire.”

You said your name before saying, “Yeah, it did.”

You didn’t say anything else. You didn’t hold much interest in the conversation. He seemed like a nice person from what you could barely remember but you were on edge there’s a killer out there. One you knew all too well.

“Well, I wanted to get your number that night but I didn’t really have the chance to ask,” he said.

You took a deep breath and forced a smile before you could even respond. You heard a familiar voice saying your name. Ethan was saving you again.

“We were waiting for you,” Ethan said.

“Oh yeah, of course, I totally forgot we had that thing,” you quickly replied. “I’m so sorry, Rylan but I got to go.”

You walked off with Ethan in hand. You felt a little bit bad for leaving him high and dry but you truly didn’t want anything to do with boys right now. You were barely in one piece and you were practically coming apart at the seams.

You couldn’t deal with another person right now. Especially one you barely knew. You knew the killer could be anyone. So making new friends, and thinking about the possibility of even dating someone was out of the question.

“Who was that?” Ethan slowed down a bit before coming to a complete stop.

“A boy from that party we went to,” you answered slowing down a bit.

Ethan nodded and then continued to walk alongside you.

“Thank you for being there.” You smiled.

“Of course.”

You both got to the dorm. You lived on the same floor as Ethan so he wouldn’t be walking far from you. You knew it wasn’t a good idea to invite someone based on loneliness but you needed someone right now. Anyone who would even listen to you.

Ethan was honestly the best person for it. He was your blank slate and had no connection to your life back in Woodsboro.

“Ethan,” you softly said as you opened your door. “Would you… want to talk for a minute maybe?”

Ethan smiled and nodded. He was sweet. So sweet. This was what you truly needed right now.

A friend.

A good friend like Ethan.

. . .

You started to hang out with Ethan basically every single day. You would go to each other’s dorms constantly. Watch movies together. Do homework together. You found out how many classes together you both shared. You didn’t know you never really saw him in any of the classes. But they were big lectures so it would make sense.

You have a friend in every class now. One you would constantly joke and talk with during and after classes.

You felt good for once. Actually great.

“Hey,” a voice behind you said.

You turned to see Rylan’s green eyes staring back at you.

“Hi… I’m sorry about the other day. We really did have a thing to do,” you replied quietly.

“Hey, no hard feelings.”

It was awkward for a few moments before Rylan spoke again.

“There’s a small social thing happening at the student center if you want to go. You can bring whoever.”

You stared at him and then smiled.

“Yeah sure I can go.”

You never really went out anyway and it was a good opportunity to finally go out plus Ethan would probably come so you felt comfortable and safe going with Rylan.

“It starts at 7 I can meet you in front of the doors?”

“Okay,” you said.

“Okay.”

Rylan walked off with a smile. It felt like it was a good idea then. You came to college to put the past behind you. But the past has ugly ways of repeating itself.

. . .

You went to the doors that Rylan said he would be at. Mindy, Anika, and Chad were there along with your roommate and Ethan. Tara and Sam couldn’t show they had a small thing to do before they could come.

You and Ethan were kind of in your own worlds as you talked about nothing and everything. You laughed at a dumb joke Ethan made when Rylan showed up.

“Hey!”

“Hi Rylan,” you replied, “um this is Mindy, Anika, Chad, Ethan, and Tia, my roommate.”

“Yeah, I remember you you’re in my Stats class, right?” Chad asked.

“Yeah! Wow, I didn’t know you were friends with Chad,” Rylan said.

“Friends since kindergarten basically. I was there with him in the most awkward phases.”

“Like that Pokemon onesie phase. You even wore one to school one day, didn’t you?” Mindy asked with a smirk on her face.

Chad laughed before shaking his head, “We promised not to talk about that in front of new people.”

“It’s a cute memory,” you laughed.

“Yeah yeah,” Chad said with a playful roll of his eyes.

“C’mon let’s go hit up the free t-shirts and food before it’s all gone,” Tia said.

Tia pulled you towards her and wrapped her arm around you. She was grinning from ear to ear.

“Ethan and Rylan, huh?”

“Don’t even start.”

“I’m just saying,” she giggled.

Everyone kind of went their own ways when you got inside. Anika and Mindy left for one of the candy booths. Chad couldn’t resist some candy either so he tagged along with them. That left you, Tia, Ethan, and Rylan.

Rylan walked beside you as you made your way through the booths. You stopped at one of the shirt booths.

“That’s a cool one,” Rylan said as you picked up a Blackmore T-shirt. The lettering was in graffiti with bright neon colors.

“Yeah the detail is really nice,” you responded you turned to him to find him already looking at you.

“So are you and him dating or?”

He pointed to Ethan standing a bit awkwardly next to Tia.

“We are just good friends,” you said as you walked towards another shirt but in white.

“Mm. Well, I was just thinking I could maybe take you out one of these nights without the whole friend group breathing down my neck,” he chuckled.

“Hey, you said I could bring whoever, and coincidentally they wanted to come to.”

“How about next time it’s just us?” He raised an eyebrow at you making you glare at him with a smile.

“I don’t know…”

“Think about it?” he gave you the biggest puppy dog eyes he could muster.

“Sure.”

“Hey! Rylan you wanna pick up some free prizes over there?” Chad was jogging over with a big bag of candy and cans.

“Yeah, man hold on,” Rylan looked at you one more time. “Think about it?”

You nodded.

“I’ll think about it.”

Chad somehow convinced Ethan to go too so that left you and Tia walking around the maze of booths.

“Two boys?” Tia smiled at you while playfully hitting your elbow.

“Only one is interested in me.”

“I don’t know Ethan looked pretty interested to me,” She said with a shrug.

You ignored her giggles as you walked away to a free water bottle booth.

It was like that for almost an hour till you heard screaming. People started running towards the exits. You looked towards Tia who was already grabbing you and running.

It all went silent when you saw Ethan. The weird thing was he was crawling on the floor but with lines of blood trailing behind him.

The scream that tore through you made everything burry and your head pulsate.

You ran towards him pulling away from Tia. Not even caring if you got hurt in the process.

“Ethan! Oh my god,” you cried. You were shaking as you pulled out your phone.

You looked up and around you screaming for help. 911 was already on speed dial when you saw Ghostface blend into the crowd. They stared at you. Almost like they were mocking you waiting for you to do something.

You were shaking as you flipped him onto his back. You quickly pulled out one of the shirts and held it to his abdomen. Chad was nearing you now. His face held no emotion as he stared at you and Ethan but he bent down and held onto the shirt to slow Ethan’s bleeding.

Then you thought about Rylan.

Where was Rylan?

When the police finally arrived you got your answer with a body bag. You barely knew him but you still sobbed into Chad’s chest. You sobbed even harder when you saw Ethan being loaded up onto an ambulance. He passed out from the bleeding. You were so scared that you were going to lose him.

Just like you lost Wes.

“Can we go see Ethan?”

“You don’t even have to ask,” Chad said as he pulled out his keys.

It was never going to end. Never. Every one of your friends. Every one of your new friends was not safe. No one was.

And the thought of that only made you cry harder.

Previous Chapter?

Next Chapter?

#dark!ethan landry #dark!ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you

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misschf-aisa · 3 months

Text

I have an epic tale that is my day yesterday. I think it would be good for me to write it all out as if someone was going to read it, but in a place where it will be lost as soon as I post it. Tumblr is the perfect black hole for this space shot.

I should provide context, but it would only make the story longer and I just don’t have the energy. Okay, maybe a little.

Friday my dad, who is 78, said he’d gotten a voicemail, his oncologist wanted to see him for a checkup at noon Monday. Bad weather was in the forecast for Monday morning, but weathermen are notoriously unreliable so I just said something about if it’s icy you’ll have to reschedule. He was like, of course, and we went about our lives.

Today is Monday and I woke up to a world covered in a good quarter inch of ice. Nothing awful, we didn’t lose power, just enough to make the dog not want to go outside to do her business. (I made her go outside against her wishes, for which I was glared at while she crouched and pooped, but it wasn’t in the house.)

It crossed my mind to check in with dad, but no one would go out in this weather, right? Yeah, you see where this is going.

I got a text around noon. Dad had skidded into a ditch and couldn’t get the car out. Help. I ground my teeth a little, but managed to refrain from texting questions about what the hell he was doing in his car on a day like today. That wouldn’t be helpful, especially after he said it had really scared him. So okay. I glance out the window and my little Fiat is encased in ice. Dad never really fit comfortably in it anyhow. I call my oldest son who just moved to town from Washington state after mustering out of the Navy. He says his 4WD truck is in the garage and he’ll come pick me up.

Oh, I forgot. I have to go because I’m the one with the AAA (thanks @l82theparty) and I’ll need to show them my card before they’ll pull him out of the ditch.

Hey, it would be smart to call AAA now and get the ball rolling since there are probably a shit ton of people in ditches today. So I call dad for a more specific location so I can tell AAA where to find him. He says his GPS just keeps giving him the street number, which is one I don’t recognize. Can he give me a cross street? No. Can he give me a landmark? The route between his house and the doctor’s office is pretty easy to recognize, we’ve done it a thousand times for two rounds of chemo and one round of radiation. No landmarks, just this street number. Okay, we’ll try sharing his location. Nope, that is way too technologically advanced. On the up side it killed time until my son showed up in his truck to collect me.

Some more questions with dad on the phone and we’re still no closer to understanding where he is. So I plug the street into the map just to get an idea and that’s when things begin to go sideways. This street shows up outside of town. Way outside of town. It’s between towns so that I can’t even tell you which little town it’s close to because it’s really just not. We follow the bouncing ball down the highway, past the casino on the outskirts of town, past the toll road, out to a place we’ve never heard of. It took us an hour to get this far, for the record.

I’ve decided my GPS has screwed us so I call dad again, confident we’re going to have to go back into town and comb the streets between the cancer center and dad’s house. But I ask him about the landscape he’s in, and he’s confirming everything sounds right. We drive up and down scary hills covered in ice, then some twisting roads also covered in ice, and Dad is on the phone saying that totally sounds right. To my son’s credit the truck only slipped on these roads a couple of times while he gritted his teeth and complained that he should have put something heavy in the truck bed.

We pass a dead end sign, and Dad doesn’t remember seeing one of those. I’m starting to believe we’re fucked. We pass another sign that says no outlet, and dad doesn’t remember it. My son gives me a look, and I shrug. Then we hit a patch of road that is a skating rink and the kid manages to slide himself onto a patch of grass as we both stare at my father’s car at the bottom of this icy hill in the middle of fucking nowhere. At least we found him, right?

Son and I slip and slide on foot down to the car where dad is fine, he’s got the heater on and the radio, just feels foolish and can’t get out because there’s a tree against the driver’s door. Because, dear reader who has made it this far, he’s not in a ditch. He skidded onto the side of the road where the land drops off into a ravine that was maybe 50 feet deep? I can’t say for sure because when I looked at his front tire and how close it was to the drop off it looked more like the Grand Canyon to me.

Okay dad, we’re not going to touch the car. You’re safe, don’t jostle yourself too much, I’m calling 911 for the first time in my life.

(Why is he in BFE? Oh, sorry, that’s Butt Fucking Egypt if you’re from around here. And I still don’t have an answer for that one.)

Meanwhile I look at the icy incline behind us and tell my son no tow truck is ever going to make it down that hill. A nice young Wagoner County Sheriff’s deputy shows up and his answer is to call a wrecker. I mention that no tow truck is ever going to make it down that hill and he gives me a look so I carefully inched my way back up the hill to sit in my son’s truck and wait.

About 20 minutes later it started to rain. About 30 minutes later it’s raining hard. Still raining hard another half hour or so later when the tow truck arrives on the scene.

Would you believe the tow truck driver said his boss won’t let him take his truck down that hill? He says he wouldn’t leave a person down there though (damn human of him) and the deputy, my son, and the tow truck driver trek down to Save Dad.

I watch from the top of the hill because they don’t need any women down there spouting truths and whatnot and getting in the way. I watch them pop the trunk and get my dad’s walker out. I’m standing in the pouring (so cold) rain watching through a layer of fog that has developed as shadowy figures hunch around the two open doors on the passenger side, I’m assuming they’re figuring out how to get dad out of the car on this side.

I can’t see, so I move over and step into a puddle of ice cold water. It’s not really integral to the story, except I was expecting to be pulling dad out of a suburban drainage ditch so I wore the wrong shoes. My nylon running shoes and my wonderful thick warm socks sucked up that icy water and held it like a lover. It was like the opposite of napalm; instead of fire sticking to my body it was ice cold water.

Meanwhile the boys have come far enough up the hill I can see they have dad sitting on the little bench on the walker and my son is walking backwards pulling it while the deputy and tow truck driver are each pushing a handlebar. My son falls down once, then gets up again. I’m not sure how, but they all manage to get back up that hill and get dad in the truck. It doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things but now I know exactly how much cold rain is required to saturate my rain resistant coat.

The story ends with my son managing to get the truck turned around and safely off of the ice sheet it was resting on. We’re all home and dry and safe and warm. My girl cooked me dinner and made me a hot toddy and snuggled me in warm clothes and an electric blanket. Dad’s car has probably depleted its battery by now because we were all three sitting in the truck when my son asked if he should try to walk back down and turn off the hazard lights. We left it.

So, how was your day?

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maladaptive-day-dreams · 11 months

Note

Hiiii, you’re writing is AMAZING!! Thank you for blessing us with it🙏🏼

I have a smutty Ronance idea for youuuu, let me paint you a little picture

So, after all the Vecna stuff Nancy and Robin would stay at each other’s houses almost every night for months. It started off because they both needed someone and they were both having bad nightmares about everything. The first couple weeks they just kept each other company, sharing a bed but not touching. That blossomed into one night Nancy nervously asking Robin if they could cuddle and Robin of course agrees. After that it becomes part of their nightly routine when they spend the night together. Nancy’s the first to notice that she gets this weird feeling around Robin and she attempts to push it away, but she can’t stop thinking about her. It started off with just thinking about what they might do later and just missing her presence. BUT, then it turns into her thinking about Robin’s smile, her eyes, her hands, how she just wants to be with her 24/7, etc. Nancy has her “Oh shit” moment and realizes that she indeed has a crush on Robin. She doesn’t say anything about it though, she doesn’t want to ruin what they have going right now. Then, BOOM Nancy’s taking a nap one day after school and she has a sex dream about Robin. When she wakes up, she is soaked, so unbelievably wet. A few minutes later, there’s a knock at the door and surprise, it’s Robin. Nancy was so tired from finals and still dazed from her dream that she totally forgot the two of them had plans to study for a final they had in a couple days. When she opens the door she’s stuttering because all she can think about is her dream. While they’re studying Robin notices her inattentiveness to the material in front of them and her lack of being able to focus. After an hour, Nancy gets frustrated and blurts out,

“Can we can talk? I need to tell you something”

Nancy tries to tell Robin that she likes her, but Robin isn’t getting it. So, the only way Nancy can think of getting her point across is by kissing her. They kiss and Nancy accidentally says,

“So much better than the dream”

and Robin looks at her so confused, but intrigued. Nancy tries to drop it, but Robin won’t let that happen. Robin ends up getting Nancy to tell her, which leads to Nancy’s dream becoming a reality.

(I’m so sorry if this is too much detail, my brain has just been rotting away thinking about this)

Lowkey begging on my hands and knees for you to write this

omg omg omg YOU'RE SO NICE ILY

ok you def have this pretty well thought out iiiiiii am gonna kinda pick up in the middle a lil since you did really good at laying it all out for me, I hope this lives up to what you expected!! (also sorry I got to this so late, life got busy againnnn)

Robin Buckley x Nancy Wheeler, 1.8k words CW: fluff, smut (18+), fingering, no ending bc ending things is hard rn lol

Nancy and Robin got close after Vecna. Neither of them expected it—Nancy usually went to Jonathan and Robin to Steve—but then Jonathan pulled away to take more care of Will and Steve pulled away to comfort Dustin since Eddie was gone.

So it just made sense that Nancy and Robin would move to cling to each other with the others drifted away.

It was only sleepovers for a while. Robin never needed anyone around until after Vecna and once Nancy broke up with Jonathan, she missed having someone familiar nearby. It was always just the warmth of another’s body that they wanted, that they needed.

But then something changed. Nancy started to want the faint smells of lavender and spearmint that surrounded her Robin’s room. In Robin’s bed. She wanted to be closer to that, wanted it to envelop her, wanted it even when it was a week that they stayed in her own room, so she asked for something more.

“Hey Rob?” she started.

Robin finished pulling a shirt over her head and turned towards Nancy who was already in her bed—it was a Nancy’s place week.

“Yeah?” Robin asks pulling back the covers and sliding in beside her.

“Could we-uh, could we cuddle this time?”

“Oh, uh-“

“Sorry, it’s weird I know we don’t have to.”

“No-no it’s ok, we can cuddle, I was honestly gonna ask you that like a week ago,” she laughs shyly.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I didn’t want to push you though—with Jonathan and everything—I know that was rough for you.”

“Oh, yeah, that,” Nancy trailed off.

“Sorry, sore subject still?”

“No,” Nancy smiled. “Not really anymore.”

Robin nods, “so who’s the big spoon and who’s the little one?”

“I mean, you’re taller so obviously you’re the bigger one,” Nancy laughs.

“Alright alright fine. C’mere.”

Nancy snuggles into Robin’s awaiting arms and ends up having the best night of sleep she’s had in a while. It felt nice, it felt right.

And it became their new normal. Every night, they’d cuddle. They’d get closer and hands would travel innocently along bodies and mornings would bring feelings to the pit of Nancy’s stomach and the apex of her thighs.

But Nancy pushes those feelings away and tells herself it’s only because Robin is so close to her all the time. The sleepovers, the cuddling, they’re messing with her head, it can’t be anything more than that. Right?

No, wrong. Because it’s not even about the sleepovers and the cuddling and the feelings and sensations they elicit anymore. Now it’s Nancy thinking about daily plans and wishing they included Robin in some capacity. It’s Nancy randomly thinking about Robin’s smile. It’s Nancy hearing Robin’s laugh in a group of people at the mall and turning towards them to hopefully see her. It’s Nancy staring at the blue tiles at the bottom of the community pool and trying to pinpoint the exact shade that matches Robin’s eyes. It’s Nancy thinking about Robin’s hands and how soft and warm they were on her waist last night, how they might feel between her–

She realizes that this is what she thought about with Steve and Jonathan. She realizes she has a crush on Robin.

And she can’t say anything or do anything about it because she doesn’t want to lose her.

But the thoughts get worse and more persistent. Robin is on Nancy’s mind 24/7. In her college classes, at work, at the store, at home, in bed.

That’s where Nancy was now, in bed napping around after a particularly rough day of classes at Hawkins Community College where she takes summer classes.

Well, she was napping, but now she’s awake and breathing heavily remembering the faint remnants of the dream she jolted from. The ghost of Robin’s touch lingered on her body, on her breasts, between her legs. She followed the trail that dream Robin’s hand had walked and rubbed her fingers over her clothed pussy to find herself absolutely dripping wet.

But instead of taking what images were given to her by her subconscious and finishing what was started in her dream by herself, Nancy tore off her soiled panties and rinsed off the sheen of sweat from her dream and the faint feeling of phantom hands on her body.

As soon as Nancy finished putting on a clean pair of panties and sofee shorts and an oversized tee, the doorbell rang. And who else would be there except for Robin.

“I know I’m a little early but band practice got out early and I snagged food for us and a movie if you’re up for a movie night after we study?” Robin says holding up a bag of takeout in one hand and the movie in her other.

“Shit, right,” Nancy says, pushing her hand into her forehead as if she has a headache. “I forgot.”

“I mean, that’s okay! If you have a headache we can reschedule,” she smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“No,” Nancy laughs and steps to the side to let the other girl inside. “We gotta study now or I’ll wait until the last minute and that will not go well.”

Having the girl that was just so vividly in her dream with her hands all over her body had Nancy’s head spinning. But she did her best to push aside the memories and lingering feelings and focus on studying.

Robin was sitting on the floor, her back to Nancy’s bed, while Nancy was laying stomach down on the bed above her, their heads close enough to read from the same book if they needed to. Constant movement and huffs from the girl above her let Robin know that Nancy was barely paying attention anymore, warranted since they’ve been at this for at least an hour now. She’s about to offer to microwave their takeout and start the movie in the living room but Nancy beats her to it.

“Can we can talk? I need to tell you something.”

Taken aback Robin just looks up, her eyes meeting Nancy’s quickly with how close they were. Robin clears her throat and moves to get up. “Yeah, of course.”

Nancy sits up on her bed and Robin gets comfortable seated in front of her. After a few minutes of silence Robin probes, “What’s up Nance?”

She’s trying to figure out how to tell her. To tell her that she’s all she can think about lately, that she wants her near all the time, that she wants her, but nothing comes out.

“I really like hanging out with you.”

“Oh, uh, I like hanging out with you too, Nance.”

“No, ugh, fuck I can’t,” Nancy is struggling to think of how to get Robin to understand so instead of speaking she puts one hand on Robin’s cheek and the other on her knee.

“Nance?”

“Can I?” Robin doesn’t say anything but Nancy can see it in her eyes, so she moves. She leans forward and Robin meets her in the middle. A brief, sweet kiss.

Eyes still closed, the two pull apart slightly before Robin’s hands find Nancy’s cheeks and pulls her back in for a heady kiss. One that’s all teeth and tongue and hot and wet. They keep kissing as Robin moves up to her knees leans towards Nancy enough to get her to lean back onto her pillows.

Robin tears her lips from Nancy’s with a nip to her bottom lip before trailing kisses down her jaw and neck.

Nancy’s hands run through Robin’s hair as she says breathily, “so much better than the dream.”

That has Robin pausing her kisses and looking at her so confused, but intrigued. “Dream?”

“Oh, uh, nothing, it’s nothing, forget it,” she stumbles, her hands pushing hair behind Robin’s ears and trying to distract her by pulling her back in for a kiss.

“Nancy, what dream?” Robin laughs at the other girl’s attempt at a diversion.

“Pleaseee forget I said anything,” Nancy begs with a pout. Robin’s gaze is as firm as her grip on Nancy’s waist, she’s not going to let this go. “You’re not going to let this go are you?”

“Nope,” Robin smiles. “Not until you tell me about this little dream of yours.”

Robin’s hands are warm on Nancy’s skin and distracting where they sit just above the waistband of her shorts. Her gaze is lowered from the other girl’s as she starts talking.

“I might’ve woken up from a…vivid dream just before you got here today.”

“Just before?”

“Mhm.”

“Vivid?”

“Yeah,�� Nancy breathes lightly as Robin’s thumbs start to trace circles into her hips.

“What happened in this dream?” she eggs on.

“Um-we were kissing a lot, in bed, like this.”

Robin moves one hand to tilt Nancy’s head back and latches her lips onto the newly exposed skin of her neck.

“And-uh-you were touching me-“

“Touching you where?” Robin asks, hands traveling beneath the big t-shirt that hides Nancy from her. Fingers brush over taught nipples and Nancy gasps at the contact. “Here?” she asks, pinching and rolling a hard bud between her fingers.

“Yes,” Nancy moans. “I-I mean no, no, not there.”

“No? Then where?”

Nancy’s hips buck with each tweak of her nipples by Robins deft fingers.

“Fuck, ah-lower.”

Robin runs her hand down Nancy’s stomach but not far enough.

“Rob please.”

“Where?”

“Lower.”

Robin moves her hand lower, but now too low, as she ran her fingertips across Nancy’s thighs. “This low?” she asks.

Nancy squirms below the other girl, impatient and dripping, waiting for her to touch where she needed her most.

Sighing in frustration Nancy grasps Robin’s hand that was traveling her body and places it on her clothed cunt. “Here,” she groans. “You were touching me here.”

Robin chuckles and drags her hand across Nancy’s clothed cunt and revels in the shiver it sends through her body.

“Want me to touch you like I did in your dream?”

“Please.”

And she does. Nancy lifts her hips and lets Robin discard her shorts and panties to the floor. Trailing fingers meet the wetness at her center and Robin kisses Nancy and swallows the moans that escape her lips when her fingers begin to circle her clit. The kisses are hot and wet and burning with lust and feel as though they go on forever.

And then Nancy is pulling away and her back is arching off the bed when Robin pushes two fingers into her aching cunt. Pants of ah, oh, fuck, Robin, drop from Nancy’s lips as Robin continues to piston her fingers into her, reveling at the sweet noises that leave her pink lips and the dirty wet sounds of Nancy’s arousal on her fingers.

The coil in Nancy’s stomach tightens and tightens and soon she’s caving in on herself in pleasure as she cums around Robin’s fingers with Robin’s soft praise being whispered into her ear.

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yanderelovlies · 1 year

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This is kinda comfort / angst but how would Bo and Jack react if they figured out they were in love with the wrong person and ended up abusing or attacking their actual puppy or sunshine due to some false information or them beileving Y/N was trying to steal away R/N

For example maybe Y/N is a demon or a supernatural spirit and they have a link with R/N maybe they have a contract or because their such close friends (I'll let you decide) so when Y/N watched the tape due to their bond R/N was able to see and interact with jack but he could see how close Y/N was to R/N and he didn't like it so maybe he tried scaring them off or possessing them but he noticed after that he was starting to get weaker. And as for Bo maybe Y/N had decided to change their appearence to look like R/N because they didn't want to scare Bo off and when Bo attacked Y/N he maybe noticed how different R/N was from before and maybe R/N told him that maybe Y/N was super shy so they let them take their form so they can interact with new people

Sorry if this in confusing if it's too much you don't have to do it I was just wondering how a replaced au with sdj and bo would like like especially if their sunshine/puppy couldn't spend that much time with them do to them being an immortal or very high ranking demon. So they left them with R/N due to it and maybe after a while they forgot about Y/N and they started to see her as a threat to their relationship with R/N?? I think that's where I was trying to go with this.

So this reminds me of something I've been thinking about for a while now. I've shared it in Discord. The plot was totally different, lol

You had formed a contract with a young human named Emily. The girl had sold her soul to you in order to gain the celebrity status she so dearly craved. The only downfall to such an easy contract was you had to be her manager until he reached that status. You made sure she got all the good gigs, the best deals, and the most of whatever she wanted. You had to remind yourself what you were getting in return for such a shit show. It only got worse when HE came along. It was almost love at first sight when you met him, but for him not so much.

Sunny Day Jack

Jack was you as a parasite on Emily’s life. She may see you as helping her, but to him you wanted her soul. You wanted her and that made him uncomfortable. So he came up with plans to keep you away from her. First he would gently coax her with his words to elsewhere with him. Then he would be a menace to you. “I could have sworn that Emily asked them to take out the trash already….so why are you still standing there.”

Not even your naturally hot skin could protect you from the coldness behind his words. When none of that worked he tried to do the unthinkable. He had tried to possess your body for his own. Luckily for you; you strength out matched his, and you were able to keep a hold of the body. However, this action was the straw that broke the camel's back.

You were officially tired of this entity that was trying to hurt you at every turn! You wished he would just go away! And as if on cue a crash could be heard in the kitchen followed by a gasp from emily. Curious you leave the comforts of your room to see what the commotion was.

There on the kitchen floor was the retro menace himself breathing hard as he seems to fade in and out. Serves him right. Maybe now you can finish this contract without his interference. You gave him a cold glare before making your way back to your room. You went to bed that night thinking nothing of it however Jack couldn't do the same. He had learned the hard way that he had been wrong the whole time. He was never hearing Emily’s vice of love, an infatuation that slowly morphed into sadness, and heartbreak. It had been you. He had been coddling and reassuring the wrong person this whole time, and he doesn't even know if he can fix it……but he has to try.

Try he did. For the next few days his attitude completely changed around you. No longer were you greeted with glares. Instead you got smiles, and soft hellos. If he was feeling extra brave he would call you a pet name with these greetings. He would hardly get a response out of you, but he didn't mind he kept trying. He wanted to keep pushing till you're willing to talk to him, and allow him to apologize to you properly. When you finally did he tried to keep his cool, but in the end he ended up in sobs begging for your forgiveness. Call it your toxic trait but you couldn't help but forgive him. You may still need some time, but the two of you have eternity for him to gain it all back.

When I say love at first sight I mean when he leaves his portable prison. When he was in it however he had no idea you weren't Emily. You see when you first had met him you were disguising yourself as Emily to get some well deserved free shit. One of these things was a blue tamagotchi you got from one of her fans. While you were at a lunch you finally turned on the little device to be met with a man

“Hi! You must be my new master! I’m Bo nice to meet you….?”

“oh!......Emily!”

Everything was fine, great even! The two of you talked often, and you got along really well, but he still never knew who really was. You never thought it would be a problem till you are pinned under him with his claws on your throat. The real Emily had found the device in the living room, and since the device kept saying her name she assumed it was for her, and kept it. You searched for days for Bo, but never did find him. So you filled the void by going out and doing what you did when you first got him hoping maybe there is another one out there.

However when you got home one day there Bo stood in a solid form cooing over the real Emily. When the door shut behind you it caught both of their attention causing them to turn to you. Bo was confused. There was another emily? He sniffed the air and let out a growl, “No this one was different! This one was a danger to his puppy! He quickly moved away from Emily before running to you and pinning you to the ground. The claws on his hand tighten around your throat.

Due to the surprise of it all it took you a bit to regain your sense and push the big dog off of you. You brought your hand up to the where his claw once were “Fucking hell Bo!”

His ears perked up. Wait….That sounded like.. He turned to Emily who was watching the whole thing in shock. She didn't look angry like the familiar tone suggested.

“I knew I should have told you sooner.”

Bo's ears laid flat against his head. He was confused about what was going on. Your smell would suggest danger, but that voice….the voice he craved to hear when Emily’s voice seems to weirdly change. On top of that your form changed right in front of him showing you to be someone else entirely. He needs to lay down.

Once he is ready you explain the situation to him making him upset with you. “You should have just told me puppy! I love you for more then your body…I love everything about you.”

“The claw marks would say differently”

A loud whine echoed through the house “I told you I was sorry!”

#sunny day jack #swwsdj #something's wrong with sunny day jack #x reader #something's wrong with sunny day jack x reader #swwsdj x reader #sunny day jack x reader #yandere x reader #dachabo x reader #dachabo #dachabo bo x reader #dachabo bo

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amarantine-amirite · 1 year

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A Piece of Cake, an American Housewife Fanfiction

Summary: Taylor has trouble securing a cake for a party

Oliver turned to Taylor and asked, "You think I'm straight, right?"

"Yeah, about as straight as a gay person," she chuckled

"Are you making fun of me?" Oliver asked.

Taylor responded, "No, you're making fun of yourself".

Suddenly, Katie came downstairs in a hurried manner. She kindly asked, "Could you both please go to bed now?"

Oliver responded with a yawn. "We're not feeling sleepy yet," he said. Meanwhile, Taylor already dozed off right there in the living room.

Usually, passing out in the living room means you spend the night in the living room, but that wasn't the case for Taylor. At some point during the night, Oliver noticed that Taylor woke up in the middle of the night and started walking around.

Oliver looked at his clock. "It's 1 AM. Why are you up?" he asked Taylor.

"Can't sleep," Taylor replied.

"Why not?"

Taylor took a deep breath and said, "I'm anxious"

Oliver shrugged, "What do you want me to do about it?"

Taylor then tentatively asked, "Can you play with my hair and distract me from my anxiety?"

Oliver shook his head and refused, "No"

"Why not?" Taylor asked.

Oliver pointed out "Because you're not a dog, and the anxiety came from something that was 100% your fault!"

He wasn't wrong, but it wasn't truly a Taylor problem. It was actually a Katie problem.

Tara Summers hired Katie to plan a gender-reveal party for her new baby. Not wanting to deal with Tara, Katie offloaded the setup for the party onto Taylor and Oliver. Oliver had to book the venue, while Taylor had to get the cake.

Katie had plenty of reasons to do this. She can take credit if they do a good job. If they screw up, she can blame it on them. Most importantly, she doesn't have to deal with stupid, stupid Tara; the kids do.

Taylor had one job, and she didn't do it. She didn't want to get the cake because she couldn't figure out how to fill out the form to place the online order. She offloaded the cake onto Anna-Kat. She had heard nothing about the cake since telling Anna-Kat to order it. What if she ignored it in an attempt to get Taylor to do it herself? It was totally possible.

"That's why I'm anxious," Taylor said, "they're going to find out."

"Find out what?" Oliver asked.

Taylor took a second deep breath and said, "You ever ask someone to do something and you know exactly what's happened even before you ask them before they did it?"

Oliver tipped his head to one side and raised one eyebrow. "Is this about making Anna-Kat handle the cake?"

"Yeah," Taylor nodded, "I asked her to order the cake for Tara's party, and I haven't heard a peep. What if she didn't do it?"

Oliver shook his head. "No, if Anna-Kat refuses to do something, you hear about it. If you haven't heard anything, you're in the clear. She probably ordered the cake and forgot to tell you." He was tired enough that the sentence blurred together.

"You're right. I got nothing to worry about,'' Taylor remarked as the both of them went back to bed.

The next day was Tara's gender reveal party. Things went great until they cut the cake. Tara was expecting a girl, and cutting the cake revealed a yellow colour instead of pink.

The unexpected yellow colour of the cake's interior led to confusion and speculation among the party guests. Some guests may have wondered if the cake was a mistake or if she decided to keep the gender a secret.

Other than Greg's joke about Tara having a minion, it didn't lead to humorous and light-hearted banter. It led to Tara glowering at Katie like a wet cat. "Why is my gender reveal cake yellow?" she barked.

Katie gestured to Taylor. "Talk to Taylor," she said.

Taylor said, "Talk to Anna-Kat."

To Taylor's surprise, Anna-Kat turned and said, "Talk to Franklin."

"I'm colour-blind," Franklin spoke honestly and directly, "it all looks the same to me."

@dialogue--prompts

#writing #short fiction #writers on tumblr #american housewife #fanfiction #fanfic writers of tumblr

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beezelbxb · 1 year

Text

-- bf akitos birthday !!!

boyfriend akitos birthday!!!

a/n :: mei's at my house rn and their snorting like a pig AND MEI TYPED AKITO SHINONOME SO MANY TIMES IN MY PHONE TO A POINT WHERE IT REMMEBERS HIS NAME HELP

people :: akito shinonome (small mention of ena)

today wasn't just any day. today is AKITOS birthday. November 12th. You had to get him a gift. You didn't get him one yesterday, you totally forgot until ENA reminded you, and you were up all night studying for exsams and you didnt bother to get hin one, it was too late.

"I'll get him one tomorrow"

is what you thought when you rolled into bed. it's the winter now, your favrotie season. This is the season of love, gifts, snow, and joy. You get to spend all of your winter with your lover Akito and cuddle up while temptures drop. You just need to get him the perfect gift, to show your affection. show your worthiness. As the sun was rising in the east your loud ass alarm went off and scared you yet again. And you did the same thing you always do get up, send a good morning text to akito, brush your teeth, take a shower, wash and do your hair, get dressed and go get something to eat. But this time, after eating you set out to find a gift for Akito. You threw on your coat, put on your boots, wear the scarf that he gave you and get a gift. what you were going to get him was the main thing in your mind. You're whole mind went blank then--cheesecake! You went to the bakery first. You were going to get him cheesecake at his favrotie bakery. You walked into the store and the little bell at the top rang.

"ah-- y/n!! back again! the usual?"

the owner of the store greeted you again. He's bubbly as always.

"hii!! it's aktio's birthday today! do you know what his favrotie cheesecake is?"

"birthday?! Well happy birthday to him! one cheesecake coming right up!"

"how much will it be?"

you hoped this shit was free because you know damn well you have no money!! You just payed off your student loan and you're in debt. You looked around the small bakery desperately trying to find a card with a discount.

"On the house! Tell Akito said happy birthday."

you took a dramatic gasp. He slid the cheesecake to you. You could already smell the cheesecake through the box.

"Thank you so much!! Are you sure??"

he better be sure or else you're going to commit felony and steal this shit

"Yep! as I said, on the house."

You picked up the warm box said thank you and ran out before he changed his mind on you. Now you have to find another gift to give to him that's just not to eat. You decided to go to the ring shop and pick up a nice silver ring for him. It was surpizing that you haven't seen him today at all or he hasn't even texted you. You picked up a silver ring and went to the cashier.

"Hi."

You looked her dead in the eyes with a expressionless face

"Hello. Is this all?"

The cashier was really nice and was smiling big at you. It was scary.

"Yes. How much will it be."

You were sweating at this point. She rang you up.

"It's my boyfriends birthday today. Do I get a discount."

You said it more so like it wasn't a question. Like a demand. Give me a discount.

"Since your new shopper here, I'll give you a discount!"

"Thanks. It's my boyfriends birthday today. Can I have a bigger discount? we've been together for 4 years now. This is our marrage ring. Im purposing to him after this."

You looked into her soul. You didn't laugh at your lies and looked like a psychopath. But you wanted that fucking ring for free.

"Uhm... I don't know...let me see with my manage-"

"I need this ring lady so if you don't give it to me know I'm running away with it. Please?"

She looked at you with a funny look. You're done with this bullshit. You ran out. Well now you have a snazzy new ring to give to your boyfriend. That shit to long to get through. You ran all the way home. You threw your jacket on the floor and quickly flung your shoes off. You texted akito:

"Akito!!! Akito wjen are we metinv upppppp!!!!!"

"Idk"

ugh he's such a bitch. You went through all this stuff for him.

"Whatevez..."

You went to your room to wrap the gift. You put your coat back, shoes back on, and did your hair really quick. You grabbed your bike and bikeroad into his house.

knock...knock...knock...

You knocked on his door. He opened it. He was still wearing his pj's and his hair was a mess. He looked so cute.

"ah--y/n. You're here. C'mere."

He hugged you tight and kissed your head. You could feel his warmth.

"Come on in."

He pulled out a chair for you and brewed some tea.

"Sooooooo..."

"So?"

He said in the most unimpressed tone

"Akito it's your birthday."

"Ok"

"I got you something!!! Open the box"

He sat down and put a sugar cube in his tea. He opened the box and he grinned real big. He took his spoon and cut me a slice. And then cut himself a slice bigger than mine. While he was eating like a pig I got the box with the ring inside.

"Akito if you would stop eating so fast, I'll give you your other gift."

"Mhmhmgngh"

You slid the box where his hand was. He opened it and the delicate ring was inside. He smiled soft smile this time and got out of his seat and hugged you. You hugged him back for a long time and he kissed your cheek.

After the lovey dovey things you and boyfriend Akito went to go watch a movie at the movie theater. You guys watched a slasher movie and it turned out Akito was more scared than you were during the movie. You guys walked home in the fog afterwards. Then cuddled in his bed. He whispered onto your ear:

"best birthday ever."

#project sekai x reader #akito shinonome x reader #shinonome akito x reader #proseka x reader #project sekai imagines

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hot-take-tournament · 9 months

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Klapollo isn't for everyone obviously so I won't say that it is, but they actually foil each other really well and I think that's where the shipping aspect comes in. Apollo wears his heart on his sleeve and is super distrusting of pretty much everyone. Klavier hides his true thoughts and feelings away to be the person he thinks others wants to see and throws himself into trusting people, he wants it so desperately. The people closest to Apollo trust him while the people closest to Klavier don't. They're both grieving so many things, running from and fighting them. They have the potential to help each other in a way that no other characters presented can (in aa4 imo. Not out here saying you couldn't possibly ship them with anyone else, I'm a multishipper myself lol). Some people might be looking for wrightworth, but tbh this ship is the opposite of them. I totally understand not liking the ship, it's hard to be as compelling as wrightworth when capcom decided to do ALL THAT to Apollo rip my guy, hope you can reconcile your 8 backstories, and then do absolutely NOTHING with Kalvier rip my guy, hope you're doing something somewhere and didn't like join Clay offscreen or something. Probably moved to Borginia with Apollo's mom /j I could say more but idk the character limit on an ask and you don't want my essay in your ask box.

TLDR; It's not for everyone but it's not baseless.

(so... now that persona 3 is getting a remake, i can't stop thinking about this one time i was on my way home and i passed by this weird family-owned sweetshop i'd never seen before. so on impulse i decided to go in and buy something, and i ended up buying this huge novelty lemon sherbert, because i needed to study and i wanted something that would last a long time. so i get back home, sit on my bed and look for some calming study music to put on, and for whatever reason the first thing i think of is kimi no kioku from persona 3. at this point, i remembered i had the sherbert, so i put the song on loop, went to get it, and then got back onto the bed to eat it. and because i live alone and there was no one around to make fun of me, for fun i decided to eat it all sexy like cleopatra eating grapes (you know, when you lie back, tilt your head towards the ceiling, hold it above your head, and lower it into your mouth). but as i'm holding it over my head, the sherbert slipped out of my fingers, bounced off my tongue and went straight down the collar of my shirt. i immediately forgot where i was, panicked, awkwardly fished it out and just flung it straight into the back of my throat and accidentally swallowed it whole - at which point it immediately got lodged in my oesophagus and completely cut off my airway, and no matter what i did, i just couldn't get it out. so i stumbled out of bed and started frantically clawing at my throat as i tried to find the door, unable to breathe, unable to scream, until my vision began to darken around the edges and i couldn't see - and the next thing i know i'm lying on my back gasping for air, with a dumbell that i had left lying on the floor now lodged between my shoulder blades, and the massive sherbert fused to my eyelid. so what must've happened is i'd blacked out, toppled backward and fell on this dumbell in just the right way that it dislodged the sherbert and launched it out of my throat, sending it arcing through the air and landing it on my face. and ever since that day i've always wondered - what if i had just died there? if i had fallen very slightly differently and missed the dumbell, would i have died alone on that carpet, desperately begging for help that i knew would never come? and if i did, how long would it have been before someone even noticed i was gone, let alone care enough to come check on me? and what would've happened when they did? since i had the song playing on loop, and my laptop was plugged in, there's a chance that when they did finally find me, they'd find me lying on my back, eyes closed, with kimi no kioku playing on repeat in the background)

#asks #not a poll #aa4 spoilers #klapollo #aa4

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price1972 · 7 months

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TLDR. If I knew how to put this under a cut, I would, but that bit of tumblr magic is beyond my skills. I’m warning you, this is long. I’m trying to catch any typos as I write, but please forgive any I miss.

Traditionally, I am VERY pro-vax. I’m vaxed, both my kids are vaxed and I am not saying one way or the other that a vaccine(s) are the root of my issues. All I’m doing is writing what I personally have experienced. Everyone should get as much info as they can, talk to your doctor if you have one you trust, and do what’s right for you.

Ryan is my husband. I live in northern Harford County, Maryland, about 1 hour North of Baltimore. My alcohol consumption has never been alcoholic level, I’m talking about a glass or two of wine over several hours in a night, maybe a little more if I was at the pool over the course of a day, or a dinner out or something, but not insane levels consumed. I stopped drinking because it stopped tasting good, probably because of what I was starting to go through.

So, back in 2021 I got my 2 Pfizer shots when I was eligible, had no problems. When I was eligible for the first booster shot, I got that too. At the same time as the booster, the pharmacist said, “hey, do you want your flu shot now too?” Since my elderly parents live with us (also vaccinated) and I didn’t want to risk getting them sick, I said sure. Got both at the same time.

3 days later, I woke up and could barely move my legs, my legs felt like they were encased in burning metal and swords being shoved up my heels and my hands also felt like they were on fire and so sensitive to touch, it felt like they were being constantly scrubbed with super rough sandpaper and also had no strength in them, so they were basically worthless. Went to my PCP (Medstar doctors group), they told me to go to the ER, because they didn’t know what was wrong and wouldn’t prescribe me anything for pain other than Tylenol or advil. Went to Upper Chesapeake ER, spent 14 hours in the waiting room to get 2 bags of saline to help with being dehydrated. However, once they found out I had stopped drinking 6 months prior to that (this was December 2021), they basically treated me like I was a drunk and looking for pills and sent me home to follow up with my PCP instead of admitting me and running more tests. I kinda understand, because it was the height of Covid and the ER was packed and they were running the ER out of the waiting room, but the lack of giving even a little bit of a shit about what was wrong with me was pretty disconcerting. There was a 20-ish year old kid who was sitting next to who smoked so much pot over 3 days that he forgot to eat or drink and the staff treated him more courteously than they did me and admitted him while I was still sitting there, waiting to see if they could find a bed for me.

So the next day, I did follow up with my PCP, and they said they’d been researching it more, and thought I might have Guillome-Barre Syndrome, which is a nerve disease where your white blood cells attack your nerves (most usually starts in the hands and feet), and is dangerous to not get treated because it can paralyze your lungs and kill you. They wanted me to go back to the hospital. I refused to go back to UC, so they suggested going to Franklin Square instead and I agreed. They wanted me to go right away, and would “call ahead” so my ER wait wouldn’t be as long. It was only an 8 hour wait there until I got called back and then eventually admitted me after they found me a bed. Ryan couldn’t stay with me because they were being super strict about visiting hours (armed guards in the ER and everything), so that sucked.

That night, the neurologist examined me and said I probably did have GBS and explained the treatment (there are 2, one is a intravenous medicine given over 5 days -IVIG- and the other was a total blood transfusion or something. ) I got the IVIG and everything that would go along with it. Starting the next morning, the doctor in charge of the ER or something (I don’t remember what his title was at this point, but he was a pretentious blowhatd who had at least 6 if not more of his students following him around like ducklings on his rounds every day) examined me and thought the neurologist was wrong and there was nothing majorly wrong with me and I was most likely just looking for pain meds to abuse. Of course he didn’t use those words, but his demeanor and attitude toward me, even when Ryan was also allowed to be there, made it clear what he thought.

So the neurologist won the start of the pissing match between the two of them, and I got all 5 days worth of the IVIG treatment. On the 6th day, I had to get a lumbar puncture to see if I had the GBS protein that they use to diagnose the syndrome. I apparently didn’t have the protein present, but even though the neurologist wanted to keep me there for more testing (because they are seeing GBS a lot more now than they used to, and they don’t know much about it yet; he was arguing that the protein they look for may have mutated into something different, etc, but otherwise I had all the symptoms of GBS. They two of them had the discussion (fight) in front of Ryan and me, with the ER doctor waving my test results in the neurologist’s face and saying “See? I told you there’s nothing wrong with her! She’s morbidly obese (fair, I was 300 lbs at that point, and looked about 15 months pregnant with a 20 lb baby), an alcoholic, looking for pain meds to abuse and the pain is all in her head. Anxiety. I’m discharging her.” And he won that fight, because I was discharged the next day. I still could barely walk and Ryan had to basically lift me up into the car to take me home. They sent a nurse with us to supervise me getting into the car and keep us from stealing the wheelchair I guess, but she didn’t do anything to help at all. Discharge papers said I didn’t have GBS, but a description of GBS and how I was treated for it, a list of vitamins and anxiety medication to get filled and to follow up with my PCP. Oh, and I wasn’t allowed back there to be treated for anything unless I had documented proof that I had completed a 30 day inpatient rehab program for alcohol..even though it had been months since I’d had any alcohol at all.

So I did follow up worth my PCP. Who has been treating me for over a decade or more as needed, knew my drinking was moderate and I’ve never had a history of looking for pain pills. But it was clear that they agreed with the ER doctor about being too fat, an alcoholic and looking for pills. Even though I never asked for oxy or narcotics, I just wanted something to stop the pain. I didn’t care what they gave me, as long as it worked. Never with either hospitals or the PCP was cirrhosis or potential liver failure mentioned or tested for.

So they gave me a laundry list of vitamins and medication, including Gabapentin to try to help with the nerve pain. Had a bad reaction to that one: it made me dizzy, pass out and fall, most of my hair fell out in one large clump, suicidal thoughts. Basically every side effect that could happen did happen, so I stopped taking that one. The anxiety med I was sent home with could be upped from 20 mg (anxiety) to 60 mg for nerve pain, so my PCP did that. This was around April 2022. I was OK at RJ’s (our son, 23) wedding (issues walking, but not needing a walker or wheelchair yet), but soon after that, the new medication caused me to sleep 23/24 hours per day and to hallucinate horribly when I was unconscious. I still remember most of those hallucinations and I feel so bad for people whose brains make them go through that, because it is SO REAL when you’re in the middle of it.

So this went on for the rest of 2022, until Ryan started to wean me off the meds. His reasoning was that I looked like I was dying, couldn’t eat or drink, couldn’t recognize him or Ryleigh, (our daughter, 17) and if I was dying anyway, maybe I would die with enough sense to be able to say goodbye to them and it mean something. I basically “woke up” on December 1, 2022 as if nothing had happened. I didn’t know when it was or what had happened, but could sit up, get in the shower, get dressed, etc with a walker and/or Ryan helping me, use the bathroom instead of a diaper etc. by this point, I couldn’t feel anything in my feet, very little sensation from my ribs down and hands still basically worthless and painful. Also couldn’t write anymore, type or even see very well, even with my glasses on. But better than being comatose or dead.

At this point, I wanted nothing to do with doctors or hospitals, and I told Ryan if he forced me to go, I’d leave AMA because they wouldn’t believe me, and I wasn’t going to go through all that BS again when it did nothing for me the first time. So for most of this year I walked/moved around as much as I could, did light PT exercises with rubber bands and tried any holistic or natural remedy we could find. But I was steadily getting worse.

Until July 20 of this year when I finally crashed. I was really bad, and Ryan begged me to let him call 911 and go to the hospital. I agreed and after a flurry of movement that I don’t remember much of, I had almost 8 liters of fluid taken out of my liver. The ER doc at UC told Ryan that he’d do the best he could to stabilize me, but that I might not survive until the next day. Also that UC wasn’t equipped to treat me and either University of MD or Hopkins would have to accept me for me to have a chance. UM wouldn’t take me because they didn’t take our insurance and Hopkins wasn’t sure if they could free up a bed for me.

Amazingly, after being at UC for 2 days, Hopkins found me a bed and transported me there. After what seemed like every test in the world, miraculously they found me a liver that matched me perfectly (a 23 year old man who died from a drug overdose; I’m allowed to contact his family, but I have to figure out what to say without sounding like a complete bitch) and my transplant values were bad enough to move me up on the transplant list, so instead of going home to wait for the “bat call” as Ryan calls it and potentially wait years for the transplant and hoping to stay alive in the meantime, I miraculously got my new liver after 2 weeks, on August 6.

I won’t go into the boring details of recovery, but from the start, my body seems to be accepting the new liver very well. The GBS has complicated it a lot (even though I hadn’t been drinking much before, and had 0 alcohol since RJ’s wedding more than a year ago, my liver was so bad, they couldn’t even use it for research. I still can’t feel my feet and have nerve pain in my hands, legs and feet and also have optic nerve degeneration from the GBS causing my vision problems. So I might not ever be 100% or be able to drive again, but it’s worth it to be alive. I have pain specialist, neurologist and neuro-ophthalmology appointments with Hopkins doctors, but not until mid-November.

So hopefully the GBS will eventually reverse itself (for most people this happens, but I’m not holding my breath) or there might be medication that would help my nerve pain and eyesight. Very irritating and tedious, but again, so worth it to be alive and able to walk with a walker and get out of the house, which I hadn’t done since RJ’s wedding last April. I’m doing PT/OT through Hopkins to relearn stuff, learn workarounds for stuff I still can’t do and to hopefully get those nerves to wake up and start working the way they’re supposed to. So for the most part, doing well, and aside from some hiccups with the medications (I take 16 pills daily, some multiple times a day); which I’m told is fairly normal, life is good.

It’s funny. A lot of people in the hospital and since have been surprised at how upbeat I typically am, and not overly upset over the issues I still have. And honestly? Surviving nearly dieing at only 51 and getting a second chance to witness the amazing young woman Ryleigh is becoming and getting to eventually (hopefully) have grandchildren to fawn over and love, why wouldn’t I be supremely grateful and happy about surviving? Yeah, there’s stuff that’s annoying, but if it never gets better than this? WORTH IT!

So, there’s the majority of what’s been happening to me over the last 2+ years. I’m sure you’re sorry you asked, lol. I do really appreciate you caring about what happened and all the good thoughts and prayers I must have received for everything to have worked out the way it did. Not that scared of dieing anymore, but hopeful it won’t happen anytime soon. ❤️

Also, my point of bringing up the Covid/flu vaccines is because (anecdotally; no proof yet) the medical community is seeing a sharp increase in nerve related issues in people after being introduced to MRNA vaccines, which the flu shot is now as well. While they’ve known about GBS for awhile, until recently it’s been pretty rare in our population and it’s not a syndrome like MS or Parkinson’s that’s been studied a lot. Best guess from multiple doctors is that it was more the flu shot, but especially getting it at the same time as a Covid booster that caused the GBS to manifest now. I might have always been going to get it, but probably not until much later in life. They still don’t know enough about the nerve related issues or even the vaccines to say for sure. So that’s been fun.

And, I only weigh 165 lbs now. It’s a hell of a way to lose weight, I don’t recommend it. 😂

I am the lucky recipient of one of those 11 livers.

#Guillome-Barre Syndrome #GBS #TLDR #my life

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