#and I know I should be sleeping but I have a stress headache and I’m just… ugh

[starlit-roses-ships]

i just want my f/os to wrap me up and give me a hug and tell me everything's gonna be okay. is that so much to ask ;_;

[thecuriousbeauty]

Arguments and Cuddles-Harry Styles x reader

A/N:- Wanted to write this a few days ago, but I just couldn't get myself to write after all that has happened. Sending lots of hugs to everyone. Hope this acts a distraction to anyone who needs it right now.

Synopsis: Harry doesn't realize that you're sick when he starts an argument and takes care of you after. Some angst and fluff!

Word Count: 2k

_________________________________________

“y/n..” Your tall, lanky boyfriend makes grabby hands at you from the bed, snug and comfortable under the blanket. He didn’t want to fall asleep without you. You felt bad for making him wait, you really did, but you couldn’t go to bed without finishing your assignment. University has been stressing you out these days, what with two projects every week, along with other papers, studying and you even have to start filling out internship forms. 

“Five more minutes, baby, I’m so sorry..”, you turn back from the desk to tell Harry who was pouting at you, hoping to win you over with cuteness, which he already has. 

“It’s okay, love. I don’t mind waiting but it’s you I’m worried about. If you’re not here in my arms sleeping in the next ten minutes, no kisses for you tomorrow.”, he threatens, and smirks when you gasp. “That’s unfair!”

“You better hurry up then.”, Harry says, picking up his phone and settling back with his head on the pillow. It took you exactly seven more minutes to complete the assignment. 

“I’m done! You can’t deny me kisses now.” You keep your laptop away before falling into Harry’s open arms. You sigh as your head hits the soft pillow, and you realize just how exhausted you are when you feel your heavy eyelids. 

“I don’t think I ever can.”, Harry hums, chuckling as you snuggle into his chest like a little kitten seeking comfort. His arms hold you snug to his chest as his face lowers to press soft kisses to your hair and your cheeks. “I missed you.”

You know he didn’t just mean today. It’s been almost two weeks since you’ve been in this hectic schedule and you haven’t been able to see Harry as often. You’re either too tired or have lots of work to do after you get home from uni, so you haven’t been spending much time with your boyfriend. 

You bring a hand up to cup his cheek, your thumb stroking over his soft skin. “I’m sorry, babe. I miss you too. I  just have so much to do and-”, you sigh.

“-Hey, I understand love, know you’re working hard.”, he rubs circles onto your lower back and you almost moan at how good it feels. “I’m just worried about you. You barely sleep, barely eat during the day, step out of the house only to go to uni…”

“I do eat and sleep.”, you tell him, pecking his pink lips. “It’s gonna be hectic only for another week, the projects should be over by then.”

He hummed. “Would you be free tomorrow night? It’s Friday. Mitch and Sarah have been wanting to meet you.”

Mitch and Sarah were two of his best friends, and you’ve wanted to meet them too. Like he said, it was Friday, so you’d have time to catch up on your studies on Saturday and Sunday. Harry was just asking you, but you could see he really wanted you to go. You haven’t had a night out in a while too, so you agree. 

“Okay, I’ll meet them.”

Harry cheers, making you giggle and kiss his cheek. “They’re so excited to meet you! I love you.”

________________________________________________

You weren’t expecting to fall sick when you got up that morning. You did feel a little less energetic, but that was normal by now, so you brushed it off. You attended your classes, and when it was around lunch time, your throat was parched even though you kept sipping on water and your eyes were getting watery. 

You didn’t feel like eating, so you skipped lunch, which led to a headache and you were just feeling horrible when you got back home that day. You were relieved to be back, and you fell into bed immediately, not bothering to change. God, you hated being sick. It makes you so weak and you can’t get anything done. You take a small nap, hoping to wake up feeling better. 

You had kept an alarm to wake up an hour and a half before the time Harry said he would come to pick you up for the night out, but you slept right through it. You didn’t wake up even when Harry stepped into your flat, using your other pair of keys and called out your name. 

He was ten minutes late himself, and he was surprised to see that you weren’t ready yet. 

“y/n?”, he says. “Babe why aren’t you ready, we should be there in twenty minutes!”

You rub your eyes, slowly coming out of sleep. “Oh…shit.”, you remember when you see Harry already standing in front of you. “I s-slept through the alarm.”

“It’s fine, I’ll tell them we’ll be a bit late. You should get ready.”, Harry said, already pulling out his phone. 

You sit up, groaning as your muscles ache. Your head was throbbing, and you felt like your body was on your fire. You knew you wouldn’t make it through the night even if you tried.

“Harry? I think you should go alone, I’ll meet them some other time..”, you say softly. 

Harry bites his lip. “Seriously? You’re telling me now? I asked you last night, y/n!”

“I know I’m sorry, I just-”

“-I try to be understanding but it’s not gonna work if I’m the only one putting in effort, y/n. I didn’t tell you anything, I didn’t complain about you not spending time with me, I just asked if you could go out with me for one night and you can’t.”, Harry scoffs, walking back and forth. 

Your eyes well up with tears from your sickness, and Harry’s words. You get up, even though you felt like you would crumble like a sack of potatoes if you did. 

“Harry, I’m sorry, I don’t-”

“-No. I don’t want to hear it, y/n. I talk to them about you all the time and they were so excited to meet you, you know? Now you want to cancel. I don’t get it, what’s going to happen if you go out for one night?” He stops to look at you.

That’s when your head spins. You feel like the whole world is turning upside down and you reach a hand out to grip something, but you only found air. 

Harry was fuming, but he only then noticed that you weren’t looking too good. Your skin was pale and prickly with sweat, you were unsteady on your feet and your voice was breaking as you whimpered his name for help, “H-Harry.”

“Fuck.”, he cursed, and rushed to you, strong arms holding you before your knees gave out. You grip his sleeve as he makes you sit back down on the bed. “y/n? Baby, are you okay?”

You manage a weak hum in response. Harry’s hand cups your forehead, pressing your head back against his arm. “Jesus, you’re burning up. Why didn’t you tell me you’re sick?”

If you had the energy, you could have punched him. “Y-You didn’t give me the chance.”

“I’m an asshole.”, Harry muttered, green eyes washing over you with worry as he settles you back into bed. 

“You are.”, you agree, shivering as his cold fingers brush against your forehead, stroking back some of your hair. “I really wanted to go out too, you know. I should’ve let you know earlier that I was sick but I thought I could pull through..” You winced, bringing a hand up to your head. You always get bad headaches when you’re sick.

“Shh..did you take any medicine? Should I take you to the doctor?”, Harry asks, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. 

“No..think I’ll be fine, just gonna sleep. You should go.”, you said softly. 

“Leaving you like this alone? No. I’m gonna take care of you. I’ll call Mitch and let him know we can’t make it. We’ll do it some other time.” 

“I really am sorry. I-I was just trying to finish everything during the week so I could spend the weekend with you. Didn’t mean to make you upset, Harry.”, you whisper, and Harry shakes his head, stroking away a small tear that runs down your cheek with your thumb. 

“Don’t apologize, love, you did nothing wrong. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. You’re working hard to get where you want to be, and I’ll always support you. I should’ve realized you’re gonna get yourself sick.” He tsked, taking your hand and kissing your fingertips. “Do you forgive me?”

You smiled and nodded, leaning into his side as he wrapped an arm around you. “My poor baby. Are you sure you’re okay? Not dizzy right?”

“Yeah, I’m not dizzy anymore, think I just got up too fast.”, you mumble into his shoulder.

“I’ll get you some medicine and make you some soup. Then we’ll cuddle in bed for the rest of the night.”, Harry says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Tomorrow, when you’re feeling a bit better, we’re gonna make a proper schedule together, okay? I can’t have you feeling so stressed out and falling ill again.”

“Okay.”, you smile. Harry got out of bed and tucked the blanket over you. You curled up and closed your eyes. “Come back soon..”

“Promise I will.”

He found you some medicine and made you take it, then brought a cold cloth to your forehead. You flinched at the cold, and he hushed you softly, “Shh, relax sweetheart, we’ve gotta get your temperature down.” He lays the cloth across your forehead. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” 

After the initial cold, it did feel relaxing. You sigh and hum in agreement. You were getting drowsy again. Harry smiles and kisses your nose. “I’ll be back with your soup by the time you take a little nap.”

Harry wakes you up with a bowl of steaming hot soup after some time, and he helps you sit up, placing pillows behind your back. He slides into bed next to you, holding the tray that had the bowl of soup. 

He blows on a spoonful before bringing it to your lips, other hand cupping under your chin to catch any excess that dribbles down. “I tried my best, it’s my mum’s recipe.”, he says, eyes hopeful as you swallow it down.

The hot liquid was soothing for your sore throat, and the flavors were actually very nice. He raises his eyebrows in question. 

“It’s really good, thank you.”, you smile, pinching his cheek gently. A grin takes over his face as he brings up another spoon. “I can eat by myself, you know.”

“I want to feed you.”

Harry feeds you the rest of the soup while he talks to you,  then goes back to the kitchen to clear everything before falling in bed with you. 

“Did you eat?”, you ask, placing your head on his chest and looking up at him. 

“I did, sweet girl. While making your soup.”, he says, pressing a kiss to your hair, his fingers starting to massage your scalp. He chuckles when you let out a soft groan. 

“How’s your head now? Are you feeling a little better?”, he checks, his other hand running up and down your back. 

“Uh huh, think your soup’s got the magic.”, you whisper, eyes already starting to flutter close. Harry laughs, nudging his nose against your cheek. “I put some magic in it, it’s called love.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm, and it’s special, only for you.”, he says, pressing feather soft kisses against the side of your face. “Gonna nurse my girl back to health in no time.”

“I love you.”, you say, your hand tucking under his side as he pulls you closer. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“No need to thank me, gonna do it for the rest of my life.”, he promises, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I love you so much, y/n.”

You gasped. “What?”, he asks, worrying if you were going to throw up or something.

“You kissed me, idiot! Now you’re gonna get sick too.”

Harry laughs, taking your chin and giving you another kiss, making you slap his chest, playfully. “I’m big and strong, I don’t get sick.”

“Sure. I remember how you were being a big whiny baby last month when you had the flu.”

“Hush.”, he chuckles as you giggle, touching his forehead to yours. “Go to sleep, my giggly girl.”

____________________________________________

Taglist: -@livypops12352568 @harrydeary, @harryswifee, @harrysbxtchh, @gracelovesethan, @kiwitsayedsugar, @angeldavis777,@madstyles3204, @youngpastafanmug, @fruity-harry, @wannaliveinparadise

[yukioos]

hii can you please write a angst fic with logan where the reader and logan are friends but she is jealous of jean with fluff at the end (sorry if i did some mistakes english isn’t my first language) tysm 💕💕

welcome and goodbye — logan howlett x reader

warnings: angst, cussing, insecurity, not proofread

summary: reader and logan are friends, but she thinks logan likes jean, causing her to feel jealous. logan and reader end up having a conversation about her feelings.

authors note: i love this request so much omg. sorry i haven’t posted in a while. i hope i did a good job ahdjdod enjoy!! 💗

word count: 2.5k

for the past three weeks, logan has constantly tried to attain jean’s attention, to no avail. he’s spent every waking moment with her when scott’s not around, except when he needs sleep. what’s irritating you is that he keeps updating you for every interaction he and jean have.

every word transmitted between them, every touch, every glance travels to you. you’re the first person who knows whenever they interact, though he won’t go on hour-long yap sessions about it. you’ve always thought it was strange how he denies being attracted to jean because everyone thinks he does.

jean seems to like you enough to have a one-on-one conversation with you, but not enough to tell you things about other people’s minds. you and she aren’t as close as you and ororo, who insists that logan isn’t romantically attracted to jean. for once in your life, you doubt her words, and your chest pains at the thought of logan being captivated by the redhead.

on some days, logan’s small mention of her, hearing her talk or her name gives you a headache. it’s not that she’s annoying, but because logan seems to have taken a liking to her, you’ve become jealous. you’ve convinced yourself you shouldn’t be jealous in the first place because you and logan aren’t a couple, but you know well that the jealousy comes from insecurity.

becoming in touch with your emotions and putting a name on them has been difficult for you. however, in this case, it was easy to tell how you felt about logan and jean’s relationship. accepting that you love logan was tough because you simply couldn’t see yourself with him. you now realize you thought that because you were insecure.

the thought that logan would stop talking to you entirely and replace you with jean has haunted you. guilt came and corrupted your mind, and the feeling of hopelessness doesn’t help. anxiety spreads to your body and mind, and a lump in your throat appears whenever logan comes into your view.

thoughts continue to override your mind as you sit at the island counters with a plate of pasta in front of you. you twirl the fork in your hand, picking up pasta. you bring it to your mouth and continue until your plate is empty.

footsteps are heard behind you, though you don’t have to turn around to know who it is. jean walks into your view and greets you before turning around and leaning on the counter in front of you.

she smiles at you and tilts her head, worried eyes meeting yours, “you’ve seemed stressed lately, y/n. are you okay? you know you can talk to me if anything’s up.” she pauses, you feel as if she’s staring into your soul, “i can feel your mind has been off lately. what’s going on in that head of yours?”

your body tenses, and you shrink at her gaze, directed and focused on you. your throat tightens, and your chest feels like it’s stabbed, a knife twisting deeper and deeper as she continues talking. your breathing destabilizes, and your eyes dart around as you keep your mouth shut, searching for objects and senses to keep you grounded.

she whispers, only loud enough for you to hear, “i’m not going to read your mind because you’ve asked me not to. but for your health, i’m asking that you talk to someone about whatever you’re going through. please.” she gives you a weak and sad smile, “i should be going now. goodnight, y/n.”

she walks away, and the guilt immediately eats you alive. you bite your lip as your throat starts to hurt, and your eyes sting. you shut them close and place your elbows on the countertop, cradling your head in your hands.

she deserves to be with logan, she’s sweet and smart and probably meets his needs better than you can. yet, you still want to be with him. you know what he sees in her because you can see it too. hell, if you were in his position, you’d love her as well.

but the thoughts never leave your mind. constant thoughts and worries occupy your mind even as people talk to you. you can’t stop yourself from feeling attracted to logan, though you think you’d be better off because he loves another. though, the amount of time he spends with her makes you feel warm and agitated.

“hey, y/n. what ‘re you doing here? shouldn’t you be getting ready for bed?” you’re taken from your thoughts when logan sits next to you and speaks clearly.

your heart aches at his words, his care. you were always skeptical of others, and now you wonder if his kindness has been fake. it always seemed he only needed jean to talk to, and that’s the only company he needed. you feel a wetness on your cheek, whimpering at the realization that you’re crying.

“sweetheart, why ‘re you crying? pretty girl like you shouldn’t be sad. can’t fix your problem if you don’t tell me about it,” he wraps his arm around your shoulder and rubs your arm, “jean told me you seemed off, said i should talk to you.”

you hesitantly look up at him and mumble, “what?”

jean storms down the hall, heels clacking with each step. she huffs as she opens doors into classrooms, trying to find logan. she doesn’t have enough energy to control his mind and make him come downstairs, so she searches the old-fashioned way.

she then stumbles into one of the classrooms, long, white hair catches her eyes. ororo sits at one of the desks, seemingly unaware and calm as she writes on a piece of paper, adding it to a pile.

“ororo,” jean calmly announces herself, causing her to jump and turn around.

she places her hand on her chest and grumbles, “what do you need?”

it wasn’t normal for her to act grumpy, nonetheless feel grumpy in the first place. she was naturally a calm person, not matching her alias ‘storm,’ but was a protective person. she always knew when to put on a serious expression and deal with a problem, she always protects her friends and the ones she loves.

jean keeps her hand placed on the doorframe, not wanting to intrude ororo’s space, “do you know where logan is?”

the white-haired girl finally looks back and shrugs, “probably in his room,” jean turns around to leave when ororo adds, “wait, why do you need to talk to him? aren’t him and y/n… you know…”

she hesitates, turning back and looking into the room, keeping her voice low, “y/n’s upset, i think she needs to talk to logan about whatever’s happening. he’s been wanting to talk to her too—“

“well then go and get him! they need to talk one way or another!” ororo shoo’s her away, causing the redhead to chuckle and close the door.

she then sighs and looks to the left, hearing you sniffle and shaking as your head lays in your hands. her face softens and she walks up the large flight of stairs, walking to the level where the instructors sleep. she then swings open logan’s door and crosses her arms.

he turns around and glares from his spot on the bed, “don’t barge into my room like that. who do you think you are?”

she rolls her eyes and stares at him, eyes sharp, “go talk to y/n. you haven’t talked to her in weeks, it’s past time. she’s in the kitchen.”

“don’t know what to say to her,” he mumbles, cleaning his claws with a towel.

“you love her, logan. you’ll know what to say to her.” she pauses, glancing around the room, “it’s obvious she’s stressed, there’s something up with her.” the silence makes her sigh, “she needs you, logan.”

he stares at her for a moment before standing up and retracting his claws. he glares at her and walks right past her, moving his shoulder so he doesn’t bump into her. he grabs the doorknob and pulls it hard, shutting it and nearly causing an earthquake that disrupts the whole mansion and everyone in it.

he walks down the stairs, in the direction of where the kitchen is. he could hear your sniffles from miles away and would love to be able to comfort you for years on end if he had to. he had a problem with distancing himself from others, he didn’t want to hurt you.

he thinks maybe he’ll hurt you one day if you’re too connected. somehow and someway, he always ends up hurting the people he loves. that’s why he sticks with jean, because he doesn’t feel as big of a connection with her as he does with you.

he can’t hurt jean because he doesn’t care enough. he worries and loves you, and apparently, in his mind, that’s what makes him dangerous. the fact that he cares about you makes him think he needs to stay away from you, he’s a danger to everyone he loves.

he slows down when he hears your gasps for air in the kitchen, he knows you’re about to cry. he needs to comfort you, and his heart aches when he sees you like this.

“yeah, jean told me you weren’t feelin’ well. decided to come check up on you.” he gives you a rare smile, a genuine one, yet his eyes are full of worry.

“don’t you like her?” you mumble, sniffling as you look back down at the counter again, lip trembling.

he chuckles, causing you to glare at him, “what? you think i like jean? you gotta be kiddin’ me, sweetheart. wouldn't like that girl in a million years. i’m stuck on someone else, anyway.”

you pause and stare at him, he just admitted he doesn’t like her, yet you still doubt his words.

you grumble, “why the hell do you spend so much time with her then? we used to talk every day and actually have interesting conversations. i haven’t heard a single word from you in weeks that isn’t about jean.”

he sighs and hesitantly answers, rubbing your shoulder, “thought i’d hurt you if i were near you.”

“what do you mean?” you ask, looking up at him with your teary eyes, hands fiddling on your lap.

“i hurt people i love. i don’t know why, i don’t know how, but i do, and i don’t want you to get hurt. that’s why i spend time with jean, i don’t care about her as much as i care about you. maybe if you thought i liked her, you’d stay away, so i wouldn’t end up hurting you.” he confesses, redirecting his eyes away from you.

“you didn’t even look at me when she was around,” you whisper, eyes tearing up again as your voice cracks, “i understand why you felt that way, but it still hurts.”

silence fills the room, and you continue to fiddle with your hands. logan bites his cheek as he thinks about what to say next, meanwhile, you wonder if you should say what you’re thinking.

“i’m sorry. i think i overreacted because i like you and i mean, i thought you liked jean so i didn’t reach out.” you mutter.

logan’s expression doesn’t change, but you can tell his mind is full of thoughts. he regrets not talking to you about other things. he wasted his time on jean when he could’ve been with you. you were better than her anyway, and she told him multiple times he’s a dick for acting this way to you.

even scott told him to get his act together. one reason was that he cares about you, the second was because he wanted logan to stay the hell away from his girlfriend. scott threatened to tell you that logan likes you but was interrupted when he suddenly had three claws to his throat.

“so i was upset over nothing?” you begin to doubt yourself, placing your head in your hands and rubbing your eyes, feeling tired as you slowly doze off.

he chuckles, “i think it was reasonable to react the way you did. i’d be sad if you did that to me.” he pauses, sighing as he sees you laying your cheek and arms on the countertop.

he smiles and stands up, gently picking you up and carrying you bridal style. his strong arms hold your delicate body as he carries you up the stairs, walking to your room.

he opens your door, and peeks to see if this is the right room. it looks just as he remembers, nights spent watching movies or reading books in one another’s presence. he then quietly closes the door behind him and lays you on the bed.

he slips off your shoes, placing them on the shoe rack next to your door. he then softly sits you upright so he can take your zip-up off, pulling the sleeves off your arms. he stares at your face and remembers when you told him once. you hate wearing a bra to bed.

he switches back and forth between ideas, whether or not he should take it off. it felt too intimate for him. a romantic partner should do that for you, not a person who hardly even talks to you anymore.

he then sighs and runs his hand along your back, trying to find the back of the bra. he then unclips it through your shirt, a decision so you’d be comfortable but so he wouldn’t make you feel uncomfortable when you wake up. pulling the covers down, he picks you up and places you directly on your bed, sheets draping over your body.

he brushes the hair out of your face, then turns around to leave before hearing your shy voice, “logan,” he turns and kneels at your bed, “can you stay? just for a little bit, at least?”

the way you’ve shown kindness despite how he’s treated you in the past breaks his heart. he smiles and nods, sitting on your bed, yet not under the covers to not make you feel uneasy.

you snuggle up next to him, feeling his body warmth through the comforter. he places an arm around your back, comfortingly rubbing up and down when he hears soft, muffled sobs next to him.

he pulls the covers up and lays underneath as you reach your hands towards his body. you wrap your arm around his midsection, tears soaking his shirt.

he whispers lovingly into your hair, “i’m sorry, sweet girl, i’m here now.” and places a soft kiss on your forehead.

the tension slowly releases from your body, and you feel less stiff. the rubs on your back lull you to sleep, and logan feels your breathing even out. he’s wary of falling asleep himself, worried about hurting you, but he can’t resist when he’s where he’s always wanted to be, comforting you as you lay in his arms.

[bookshelf-dust]

kiss it better

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 3,176

warnings: swearing, sick fic (sorta), steve not taking care of himself, anxiety, stress, mental breakdown?, best friends to lovers deal (let me know if i missed something)

a/n: hi! it’s been awhile. i’m sorry about that. this has been a very slow process for me. my mental health is shit, and that’s probably obvious. i hope it hasn’t seeped into this too much, but it probably will with the next few things i write. i apologize for taking so long to post, for disappearing, for not really making this the blog it once was. but i’m not the same person i was then. so we’ll see where this goes. i hope you enjoy this one a little. i love you.

————

The shrill sound of a phone ringing scares you awake, eyes flying open, heart pounding so aggressively you fear for a split second that it might burst. 

You sit up quickly, enough so that you make yourself dizzy trying to get your bearings. You roll onto your side, and reach blindly across the edge of your nightstand, grabbing for the green plastic that’s shaking with the force of which it’s ringing. 

You almost fall out of bed, just managing to catch yourself as you bring the phone to your ear. 

“Hello?”

Your voice comes out weak, thick with sleep and the longing for more rest. It startles you and makes you clear your throat. 

“Hey, it’s me.”

The voice on the other line is even weaker than your own. It’s quiet.

“Steve?”

Your eyes find the alarm clock on your dresser, bright red letters telling you it’s just after one in the morning. You might be half-asleep, but you’re conscious enough that your heart rate picks up, registering that this isn’t when your best friend normally calls. 

You hear him breathe, along with some shuffling. He’s nodding his head, but realizes you can’t see. 

“Yeah. Listen,” he drags a shaking hand down his face. “I’m sorry to call so late.”

“Hey, it’s okay. What’s the matter? Is something wrong?”

He goes quiet for a moment, but you wait patiently for him to continue. He must be trying to get something out, and you don’t want to pressure him, or cause him stress in any way. 

Steve huffs, frustrated with himself. 

“I-I’ve got an insane headache, and we’re out of goddamn medicine. My parents were here, and my mom was hungover and I guess she must’ve emptied us out, but it hurts too bad to drive, and…” He trails off, breathing heavily. 

His pause lends you a moment to process, and you decide to speak up. If his head is killing him, you know finding the energy to speak to you, let alone call, has to be draining. You wouldn’t want him to suffer anymore than he already is. 

“Stevie?” you start, happy to hear a small hum that encourages you to go on. He registers what you’ve called him, something you don’t call him often, and his chest aches. “I’ve got some I can bring you. I think all the drugstores nearby are closed.” 

You swing your legs out from under the covers, pushing yourself off the mattress. Pressing the phone between your cheek and shoulder, you pull on the pair of sweats slung over the end of your bed, trying not to bust your ass as you hop into them. 

“Is anything else hurting you?” you ask, gently as can be. 

“Honestly?” he responds. “I think I’m sick. I can’t be sick, can I?”

You stand upright once again, taking the phone firmly in your hand. 

“I think even King Steve can get sick from time to time. I’ll be there soon, okay?”

————

Steve’s not sure you understand him. He can’t be sick. He’s got shit to do. He has a shift tomorrow, and he’s pretty sure Dustin needs a ride one day this week because Claudia is on a “girls trip.” He has to keep working on his college essay, because he’d told you he was almost done, but really he isn’t. 

Steve doesn’t have the time to be sick. And he can’t have you ruining your own schedule to come and babysit him. He’s supposed to be the babysitter. Not the charge. 

He should be able to take care of himself, but of course, the one time his parents come home they clean out his mediocre supply of medicine. Something he’s always stocked up on, given his tendency to get the shit beat out of him, or the nasty string of tension headaches that just won’t quit. 

And his head is killing him. He has his palms pressed to his temples, trying (and failing) to dull the ache. There aren’t any lights on in the kitchen, where he’s sitting on the floor, back pressed to the cabinets. 

He’s trying not to move too much either, because he’s dizzy. This probably has to do with the fact that he skipped dinner, feeling too nauseous to eat. Now that Steve is hungry, he fears he won’t be able to get up and fix anything. 

Maybe you’ll be able to help, he thinks. But that voice is quick with a counter argument. No. I need to do it. 

He perks up at the sound of the front door opening. “Steve?” you call out, careful not to slam the door or yell too loud. It’s also why you hadn’t rung the doorbell. 

Steve raps his knuckles softly against the countertop, hoping it’ll be enough to clue you in. He can’t bring himself to shout right now. You follow the sound, taking the few steps toward the kitchen. 

When your eyes lock on his figure, see the way the heels of his hands press into his eyes, you realize how young he looks. He almost looks small, legs pulled up to his chest, big, lanky body compacted as much as possible. He looks vulnerable. You’re sure he hates that. 

“Hi, Steve,” you say, keeping your voice low. 

He looks up at you, and his face splits into a sweet grin. He’s happy that you’re here, even if that voice is screaming at him, wanting to punish him for asking for help. 

“Hey, honey.” You smile back at him, and his heart rate picks up. Sometimes he forgets how beautiful you are, and then you’re standing in front of him, snatching every last breath from his lungs. 

You set your bag down beside him and reach out, brushing his hair back from his forehead. He feels a little warm, but not feverishly so. 

You move away from him, grabbing a cup from the drying rack. You fill it up with water and crouch at his side. Steve takes the glass from you, head resting against the cabinet to watch as you grab him some medicine. You hand him a few pills, and he takes them quickly. If he doesn’t get this headache calmed down soon, he thinks he might just die. 

Steve keeps drinking the water you gave him, and you push his hair back again, watching the way it curls around his ears. 

He drinks about half of the water before he pauses, taking a deep breath. He looks at you then. It’s mostly dark in the kitchen, but the lamp on the table by the front door is on, so you’re a little backlit from it. Not to mention the moonlight seeping in from the window above the sink.

You look gorgeous. And you came over to take care of him. You got up, at one in the morning, and drove to his house, just because he asked you to. Hell, he hadn’t even asked. He hadn’t gotten the words out. But you’d known. You’d known exactly what he was trying to ask, and you’d offered your help with no qualms. 

Steve’s nose starts to sting, and that pressure from behind his eyes—it starts to release. Before he knows it, his vision is getting cloudy, and he’s crying. He can’t be crying, can he? 

You carefully remove the glass from his hand and move in between his spread knees. 

“Steve, it’s okay. I’m here, and I’m gonna take top notch care of you.” 

“I know you are,” he says, voice breaking. “But I should be able to do it myself. I always do it myself.” He presses his hands against his face, but you catch his wrists and gently pull them away. 

You hold your arms out, and Steve practically falls into you. He buries his face in your neck. He can feel the warmth of your skin, the cotton of your sleep shirt. You smell like soap, that fancy conditioner you use. 

One of your hands finds the base of his neck, nails scratching gently over his scalp, thumb dragging over the top of his spine. Your other rubs soothingly up and down his back. 

“But the thing is, Stevie, you don’t have to.” 

He’s not a loud crier. But he is sort of panicky, breaths coming quick and short, chest heaving against your own. “I know you’ve always had to do a lot by yourself, but you can ask for help, and you don’t have to punish yourself for it, either.”

You feel him nod against your collarbone. His hands are fisting the back of your shirt. Eventually, he pulls away, but keeps his eyes closed. He tries to keep his head turned from your gaze. 

“Hey. Look at me.”

He does, albeit reluctantly. Steve’s cheeks are flushed, lashes clumped together and lips parted where he tries to suck in a good deep breath. 

You reach up, fingers gently sweeping away the remainder of the tears on his face. He leans into your touch, and you let him. You lean forward and press a sweet kiss to his forehead. You’ve never done that before.

Steve recognizes that you’ve never done it before, even if it’s sort of fuzzy. Sure, he’s kissed the back of your hand and you’ve reciprocated, but he’s usually the one to initiate physical affection. You’re too shy most often, even if you ache to do it. 

Fuck, he wishes he were a little more coherent right now. 

“Can you stand for me? It’s late, and I think you need to rest.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, sure.” Now that he’s thinking about it, getting in bed sounds so nice. 

You stand first, and watch as Steve pushes off the floor, gripping the countertop on the way up to steady himself. 

“Come on. The stairs are gonna be a pain.”

He reaches out for you, and you let him take your arm. He pads out to the staircase, and you watch each precarious step he takes, hoping he won’t get too woozy and trip. 

By the time he finally makes it up there, he’s wrapped both arms around your waist and buried his face between your shoulder blades. You soften beneath his hold. 

You walk slowly towards his bedroom, and he waddles behind you. You push the door open. “M’kay, Steve. Wanna change clothes and hop into bed?” 

He pulls off of you and grabs hold of his dresser. “I’m not givin’ you a free show.”

You snort. “I’ll go get some more water and be right back.”

His grin fades. “Please be fast.” He doesn’t want you to go. He doesn’t want you to leave him. 

“Steve, I’m practically The Flash.”

He laughs, pulling a pair of sweats and a t-shirt out of the drawer. Usually he’d sleep in less, but with you here he feels he should keep his modesty.

When you return, he takes the water from you, drinking it faster than he probably should. Steve feels like he’s had the shit beat out of him, and for once—he hasn’t. 

You’d sat down on the edge of the bed, not noticing the way he’s staring at you. You look up when he sets the glass down. He drags both hands down his face. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

He exhales. “I want you to stay here with me, but I don’t want you to get sick. The idea of you being on the couch, which is like, miles away, is driving me insane.”

“Steve?”

“Huh?”

“Can’t I just sleep on the futon?”

His eyes move towards the other side of his room where said piece of furniture is pressed against the wall. He’d bought it when group sleepovers became a thing after all they’d dealt with. Jesus, his brain really isn’t working. 

“Oh. Yeah, honey. Just don’t want you to go far.” 

You lean forward and push his hair back from his forehead. You’ll need to remember to take his temperature come morning.

“I’m not going anywhere, Steve. I promise. Not until you’re all better.”

————

When Steve wakes up, you’re not there. He starts to panic, thinking maybe he’d been too much, maybe he’d shown you a side of himself he shouldn’t have, that maybe you left. 

But you return to his room just as he’s about to start looking for you. There’s a thermometer in your hand. 

“Morning, sleepy boy. Are you coherent enough for me to check your temperature? Or no?”

He yanks the covers off of himself, and his shirt has ridden up. You catch a sliver of tummy before he sits up fully, and you miss it the second it’s gone. 

“Hit me, I can take it.”

You roll your eyes but stick the thermometer under his tongue when he opens his mouth. When you pull it away, you’re happy to see he hasn’t got a fever. He was warm last night when you kissed his forehead, but you’re thinking it was from stress or just overheating. 

“No fever. What’s buggin’ you today, Stevie?”

He flops onto his back, and his shirt rides up again. You mentally slap yourself for being so enamored by it. All your brain can compute is tummy. Steve’s tummy. “My head still, and my stomach. I feel like I haven’t slept in four years.”

His words snap you out of your reverie. “Four years? That’s incredible. When’s the last time you ate something?”

Steve stares at you for a moment, though it looks as if there isn’t a single thought behind his eyes. “Yesterday…morning. I think. Yeah, I had a banana.”

You stare back, rather appalled at his statement. “Steve.”

“Hm?”

“All you’ve had to eat in the past twenty four hours is a banana?”

“Yep.”

“Jesus christ. Get your ass up and come with me.”

Steve doesn’t move. Rather he watches you move, right out the door and towards the top of the stairs. You pause and turn around, crossing your arms. 

He huffs. And then he slides down the side of the bed like a child before crawling up and following you to the kitchen. 

Over the course of the next few hours, you manage to get Steve to eat, shower, and go for a short walk, weather permitting and all. He’s looking astronomically better than he did last night. 

Steve sits opposite you on the couch, his socked feet in your lap. “What do you think my deal is?”

You rub your hand over his calf. “I think you just had a little bug. Or maybe you let yourself get too stressed out and your body couldn’t take it.”

He blinks. “Is that…that's not a thing? Is it?”

“When’s the last time you gave yourself a fuckin’ break, Steve? When you just took a day for yourself rather than worrying about who needs to go where, or if you’ll have to cover a shift? You have to take care of yourself, or this is the kind of shit that happens.”

“Being overwhelmed about your parents, not eating, worrying about that application, all of that is fucking with you. That headache was probably a stress headache. They’re killer. I want you to be healthy and comfortable, Steve.”

You exhale, and close your eyes. When you open them, Steve has sat up, scooting towards you on your end of the couch. 

He might still be tired, but he can’t believe this. He can’t believe you. No one has ever worried for him in this way. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask. 

He barely even registers your words, too busy memorizing every line on your face. You look so fucking beautiful. It almost makes him angry. 

“I’m thinkin’ about how bad I want to kiss you.”

Your face starts to burn. You shove his shoulder. He looks at the place where you’d pushed, quirking a brow, but grinning nonetheless.

“What?”

“Steve, you can’t say shit like that.”

“How come?”

“Because we’re friends.”

“Best friends.”

“Well yeah, but best friends don’t say that to one another.”

His grin widens. He looks more awake than he has this entire time. 

“Oh, but you haven’t said it.”

You blink. “Huh?”

Steve gets his voice up that little bit higher, doing a cheap imitation of you. “‘Best friends don’t say that to one another.’ Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but that implies you want a kiss too, doesn’t it?”

You drag your hands down your face and flop back against the arm of the couch. 

“So you gonna say it, or what?” He’s shifted, and you can feel him hovering over you, but you refuse to move your hands. 

“Of course I’m thinking about kissing you, Steve.” You suck in a breath and open your eyes, locking with his own. “But you’ve got cooties.”

Steve rolls his eyes before he backs up and yanks on your ankle so that you’re flat against the couch. 

“You did not just lecture me about self-care just to tell me I have cooties. I didn’t even have a fever.” 

“I didn’t even have a fever,” you mock, lowering your voice in what is quite possibly the worst impression of him you could do.

He’s quick about it. Almost stealthy, not that you’d ever boost his ego by telling him so. But his fingers are reaching for your sides, the tips dancing over your shirt, that tiny sliver of hip showing where it’s ridden up. 

Steve is practically drunk off of your laugh. It’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard, and when he goes for your neck, when you tilt your head and trap his fingers between your cheek and shoulder, he thinks he could die. 

You and your laugh. The fact that you drove over at one in the fucking morning, without even thinking about it, just because you care. That you stayed the night, listened to his pitiful thoughts, took care of him…it’s too much. 

Never in his life did he think he’d find someone like you. Someone who makes him feel like he matters. You’d made him realize how smart he is, how capable. That he could do things for himself and not just to please his dickhead father. 

You have made him whole. 

He lets up when you start breathing extra heavily, only to tickle the underside of your foot before he quits, just to piss you off. You kick him in the side. 

“I think a kiss from my very favorite person might be the best form of self-care there is, honey.”

You sit up. “Wow. King Steve really never died.” He raises his hands like he might tickle you again, but you catch them before he can do any damage. “Okay, sorry!” 

Before he can register it, you’ve leaned in and pressed your lips to his. When he does realize, he lets out a surprised hum, and you can feel that smartass smirk forming on his face. 

When you pull away, he whines. 

“All better?”

Steve falls back against the couch, pulling you with him just to get that laugh out of you again. 

“I’m healed.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[vanesycho]

kinktober day 29 [stress reliever]

|masterlist|

warnings:smut, oral(m receiving),riding,unprotected sex,p in v

wc:1,1k

Heeseung threw himself into his dorm room tiredly. His schedule was packed these days and he never had time to rest, he was stressed out, mumbled a curse. His roommate Jake grinned when he heard him "What's wrong?" Heeseung sat up from where he was lying and ruffled his hair "You really asking? I'm waiting for the day when this stupid thing ends and we can rest. My fucking schedule never stops." Jake offered him a drink but he shook his head, he wouldn't get drunk and have a headache on top of being tired enough. Jake sat down next to him and took a sip of his own drink before saying "You're stressed. You know it's so easy to deal with." Heeseung turned to him, frowned slightly "What do you mean?" He stood up and picked up his phone, scrolling through something, then handed it to him. It was a phone number "What's this?"

He picked up the phone again "So, you know I have a friend named Y/n who helps me deal with my stress. I can help you relieve your stress with a phone call." Heeseung rolled his eyes and laid back on the bed, closing his eyes. “Don’t use me in your disgusting business, Jake.” Jake shrugged and threw the phone next to him, before leaving the room. “You know, her number will be there if you need it anyway.” The room fell silent with the sound of the door closing. Heeseung tried to sleep, but his thoughts took over him. He opened his eyes and looked at the phone next to him, it could be a one-time thing, right? Was it necessary anyway? Could he just use you to relieve his stress?

“Fuck it.” He picked up the phone and stared at the number for a while before pressing the call button. He didn’t know if calling without telling you directly was a good idea, maybe he should text. But his thoughts didn’t last long when you answered the phone. “Hello?” Your voice made him swallow hard. “Y/n. Right? I’m Jake’s friend, Heeseung.” a laugh caught his ear, he had no idea what he was doing right now. “I know, he mentioned you. So… Should I give you my address?” He let out a shaky breath, closing his eyes for a moment. It wasn't too late to give up. "Yes, please."

He hadn’t thought things would go this fast when he found himself at your house. He was like a drunk, he was lost to you and your hands were making him feel better than he had ever felt before. “Y-y/n..” he whimpered your name as he sat on the couch, his head leaning back. The warmth of your mouth and the way your tongue roamed his cock could even make him cum early but he tried to hold himself back. The moans you let out in between made him shiver, his chest rising and falling rapidly, one hand slowly finding its way to your hair and holding on tight. He just wanted more, he couldn’t say it out loud but it felt so good. He slowly moved your head towards him, making you take more of it into your mouth. You did what he wanted, starting to suck while your tongue roamed around his cock. Heeseung let out a loud moan, feeling that he was close. “I..Fuck Y/n..” he couldn’t speak properly, it was weird to feel like he was close to cumming when he still couldn’t comprehend all of this.

You didn’t stop your movements, you continued, knowing that he needed it. When he started to cum you pulled back and took a few in your mouth while letting the others come to your chest. He closed his eyes with a deep groan, a feeling of relief overtaking him. His previous stress had subsided, but he still wanted you. He hadn’t felt you and he wondered what it was like. Heeseung lowered his head towards you and saw the small smile on your face. “Feeling better?” He nodded and reached out his hand to you, you took it without question and stood up, this time raising his head to look at you. Oh you knew that look.

You let go of his hand and started to take off your pants. His eyes scanned you for a moment, leaving your panties on the floor before you climbed onto his lap. His hands quickly found your waist, looking at your lips as your faces were close together. “I should have come here sooner.” You let out a giggle and placed your hands on his shoulders. “Well…you know my number.” He wet his lips, lifting your hips slightly and allowing you to take him inside you. You let out a loud groan and tried to take his entire cock, he could feel himself starting to get erect again. Feeling your warmth made him let out a deep moan, "Fuck..."

After a while, you started moving, taking him all the way inside you every time was making him feel dizzy. He hadn’t felt this much pleasure in a long time and now he was regretting realizing it too late. Your fluids started mixing together, and even though he had just come, the pleasure he was feeling again made him whine. He brought his hand to your hips and held it tightly, guiding you and helping you ride him easily. You placed your hands on his knees and pulled back slightly, throwing your head back in pleasure. Heeseung shamelessly scanned your body, watching how you were taking it in and muttered another curse.

You started to speed up your movements, your moans mixing together. Your bodies were sweaty but he didn’t care, wrapping his arms tightly around you and leaving marks on your neck. “I didn’t know that bastard was so lucky. Do you do this all the time?” he whispered in your ear, then kissed you. You couldn’t answer, your breathing was ragged and you could feel that you were close. “Hee..I’m close-” your sentence was cut off by another whimper. He didn't hold himself back anymore when he was close to cumming, your hips continued to move on him, Heeseung's grip was so tight that you knew there would be marks but that was the last thing you cared about right now.

You both let out a deep breath, relieved that you had reached orgasm in such a short time. You laid down on his chest and stayed like that until you caught your breath. Then you got up from his lap and put your underwear back on. "You can stay here until you get yourself together, go take a shower if you want." Heeseung nodded and kissed your lips before getting up and going to the shower. "Thanks." You smiled and watched him walk away. Then the sound of the phone ringing filled the living room, you answered the call without waiting, a shaky breath was heard from the other side. "Y/n? I'm Jay. I need your pretty pussy right now."

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

The Morning After

Summary: Reader and Spencer are waking up after a big fight the night before.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Angst, Comfort

Content warnings: Relationship troubles

Word count: 1k

You woke up not convinced you had slept. Your eyelids sticking together and sore from the stark morning light must indicate otherwise, right? It stings no matter how often you blink. It’s a similar sting to chlorine and your body clears it out. But no matter how many times you blink, the pain remains.

Normally, Spencer’s hogging the bed, his arms pressed against your back like he was in a casket but sideways while you grip the edge and hope you don’t meet the floor with your nose. Stretching your arm out to feel the other side feels unnatural. No hand ready to grab you and smack your knuckles with a kiss. No grinding teeth that you’ve told him is a sign of stress and he should get checked out.

This all felt worse. Even though Spencer was just in the living room, he still felt too far away. But what’s the right way to deal with that? How does one bounce back from such a brutal night?

Well, you don’t bounce back. You take it slow. You pick yourself up from the pillows, your body aching like a hangover. Sitting upright did not help your headache; the pain between your eyes is strong, recovering from scrunching so violently in the midst of sobbing and yelling. You’re both lucky the neighbors didn’t call the cops.

You sway around the bed, left to right like a stiff pendulum. In the doorway, you see your boyfriend. His hair is a moppy mess. He's got a fresh dark roast in his hands, and it takes all his concentration to bring it to his lips. It’s almost precious if you didn’t remember you’re partially responsible for putting him in that state. You watch him sip slowly, the heat hits his skin and he remains unfazed. He pulls it away.

“Morning.” You croak out. You push yourself out of the doorway as you wrap yourself tight in your robe.

His face turns to you as he considers another sip. “Morning.” He puts his cup on the end table. “There’s… uh there’s plenty more. If you want any.”

You nod, crossing your arms close to your chest. Even though you don’t waste time grabbing the hot pot and plenty of creamer, your mind concentrates on the feeling of eyes pressing into your back. The sound of the leather shifting with his weight, maybe he was watching to make sure you weren’t walking out (like you may or may not have threatened to do last night). When you turn around though, he does too, he knows you saw it.

Because you know what to do.

You walk to the couch, taking the side opposite as you take two gulps of your beverage, ignoring the semi-sweet liquid’s heat. You settle in with your cup close by while Spencer occupies himself with his own hands like he’s been called to the principal’s office.

“Do you… want to talk about it?”

A third sip. “Yeah, probably best.” You eventually put your cup down after another eager drink. Your magazines were arranged on the table in front of you, labeled by issue. And not just that, but the books that were once sprawled on the floor were put back neatly on the shelves, in their intended alphabetical order. You pause at the sight. “You… wait, you cleaned up last night?”

Spencer coughed to pretend he wasn't so tired, saying "Yeah. I couldn’t sleep, so I figured, you know, why not?” He equipped the rhetorical question with a shrug.

You rub your face. It all hurts. “I didn’t mean to back into the shelf. I hope you know that.”

“I know.”

“Good, okay.” The silence is thick. Expected, but still daunting. The chest pain that comes with holding your breath so sternly is not something you thought of before. And you wish it would go away. So you start it. “Do you want to go first, or would —”

“I’m sorry.” Spencer interrupts.

“Huh?”

“I’m really sorry. What I said, it was out of line.”

You sigh. The relief of it all (or part of it, the rest will come in time) pours out with one exhale. Your lungs still feel the ache, but again, in due time. “Me too. I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have retaliated the way I did.”

Spencer’s lips pull into a smile as his head falls back. “Okay. Good.” He swallowed. “Good.”

You don’t waste time taking up space between you. Your knees touch as you reach out to brush his cheekbones with your knuckles. You move further up and rub the redness around his eyes. They match yours. So you know the area is sensitive. Spencer, however, looks up at the ceiling as you touch it. Soon though, he takes your hand and presses a kiss to the skin. “Not as sloppy as I usually am."

“It’s okay.” Your grip tightens in his. “I think we both need to rehydrate.”

“And sleep more,” Spencer said.

“That sounds nice.” You slip out of Spencer’s hold and comb his hair back with your fingers, clearing them from his face. “Want to go back to bed?”

Spencer’s face scrunches and readjusts in his seat, rubbing his shoulder blade against the couch’s back. “I don’t think I can. It’s not easy to turn comfortably here.”

“You don't have to sleep on the couch.”

Spencer looked back at you. “Really? You sure?”

“You deserve a decent sleep in your own bed.”

Before Spencer has a chance to protest, you’ve picked yourself up from the couch and started pulling him up by the wrists. Despite his weary state, he followed you and stood up himself. You tugged his arm to the bedroom, to the sweet relief of a mattress, pillows, and potential cuddles. Spencer however tugs back, and he brings you into a soft hug. His head on your shoulder, his arms linking together to cage you into the warmth of his body. You gladly (and sleepily) follow by putting your arms around his neck. And you stay there. For a while.

[luveline]

Hi jade if you’re doing requests I’d love to see how prince Steve and his soulmate are doing after the wedding

prince!steve soulmate au —you’re sick from stress and Steve's adoring as always. fem, 1k

“Hello.” 

You nod dazedly from your bed. “Hello, husband.” 

Steve leans on the door, a bouquet against his chest. “Are you feeling any better? At all?” 

“Yeah.” You’re lying, but it doesn’t matter —your hoarse voice betrays you. You sound as sick as you had yesterday and the day before. It is putting a real dampener on the honeymoon. 

He puts his bouquet down on the dresser, the big white petals of its lilies drooping past the cellophane to kiss the drawers. You focus too much on that detail and startle when he sits on the bed. 

“You had everything you needed while I was gone?” he asks, hair falling into his eyes. 

You raise your hand, smiling softly as he leans forward, allowing you to fix it out of his eyes. He’s terrifying this close to you, absurdly pretty, absurdly yours, a golden ring on his finger and a furling white light turning pink braceleting his wrist. He’s very much the prince he was when you met, but now he is your prince, and that’s a strange thing to come to grips with, worse when you’re so achingly sick. 

“Hey?” he prompts. “You have everything?” 

“The serfs won’t leave me alone,” you complain worriedly. It hasn’t been nice to have them coming in and out all day. “I try to sleep and they wake me up coming inside. Sorry, I’m not– I’m complaining, I’m–” You rub your headache. “I should be grateful–”

“You’re allowed to complain about that!” he says, grinning. “God, I want you to! I’ll tell them to stop coming in, I just thought you’d probably die in your sleep while I was gone.” 

You lean back into your pillows with a wince. “You sure?” 

“Am I sure?” He holds your arm with both of his hands. “I’ve just sent the maids in to harass you for six hours when you’re sick as a dog and you’re asking if you’re allowed to be mad.” He rubs your arm with his thumbs. “I’m sorry. Do you want to sleep now? I won’t let anybody come in.” 

“No, um,” —you clear your throat— “I did– I missed you. I want you to tell me about the meeting.” 

“Yeah?” he asks softly. 

You have the feeling you’re being doted on. “Did Robin go?” 

“Let me just set us up and I’ll tell you. Okay?” 

You nod your agreement. Steve kisses the back of your hand absentmindedly and stands.

He shuts the curtains to hide the sunshine, clears away the jargon of the holoscreen against the wall, and closes the door. The room is big and the mess you’ve made since you fell ill the night of your wedding is expansive, taking ages to clean. By the time he’s done all this, you’re dozing again with the blanket pulled up to your nose. 

“Sweetheart,” he says, climbing into bed beside you. A kiss is placed on the edge of your eyelid. “You can sleep. We’ll talk about things when you’re feeling better.” 

“No, please tell me about today,” you croak. 

“Nothing really happened,” he says, up on one elbow, looking down at you lovingly. “They asked me when we’d begin our tour now we’re married.” His voice grows softer as he leans down, eyes on your lips. “I’ve asked for it to be pushed back. So they’ll wait until we’re ready.” 

“Mm. And news from the west?” 

“None.” He holds your face. “Sorry, you’re distractingly pretty today.” 

“Stop it.” 

“You are,” he says. He sounds playfully smug, or maybe he’s not playing at all. His tone is wry all the same, that slight fry that might make you pop a knee if you weren’t already wed. “I’m sorry you got so sick. I knew the wedding was going to be too much for you. I should’ve looked after you better.” 

“You didn’t make me sick.” 

“But the stress made it worse. I know it did.” 

“You shouldn’t believe everything the head doctor says. She made you eat dandelions for depression.” 

“I know, I was there,” he says, smiling down at you, eyes like dark dimes. “But she also recommended more fencing, and that did make me feel better.” 

You turn your face to the side and curl a tentative arm around him. “Can I have a hug?” you ask, and then, when he’s given you an enthusiastic yes and pulled you onto his chest, “I can nearly forget I’m sick.” 

“I can’t. You sound full of it, sweetheart.” Sweetheart said soft and quiet as a secret. Like he’s sorry and adoring at once. 

“It’s in my face.” 

“We’ll go to the sauna together later and clear you out.” 

Together? In your skivvies? If the sickness doesn’t kill you, the sauna with Steve alone certainly will. “I can’t tell if you’re being mean to me on purpose.” 

“Why would I do that? I like you. An embarrassing amount, I–” He clears his throat. 

You’re not sure what he would have said, but you like him too; you dive in to save him. “You’re like that, Steven, you mess with me.” 

“No, don’t start the Steven stuff again, I like it much more when you call me Steve. Remember when we first met, you’d only call me your prince? And you definitely wouldn’t have let me hold you.” 

“Don’t say it like that,” you plead through a nervous laugh. 

“Am I saying something wrong?”

He’s murmuring, nearly flirting —is it flirting if you’re married?— his arms threaded around you, his hair tickling your cheek as he leans down. “Not wrong…” Your eyes widen as he closes in. 

“Would a kiss make you feel any better?” 

“I’ll make you sick.” 

“Shouldn’t you? I’ve vowed to be with you in anything, haven’t I? In sickness…”

You hold your breath as his fans over your lips. 

“Just one?” he whispers.

“As many as you want,” you whisper back. “Just don’t get mad at me if you’re sick next week, Steve.”

“Never.” 

[cherryspicest]

A better one

I'm here for you part 2 NMIXX Seol-Yoona x Male Reader 7k words

It's been months since I've written again and I had this perfect month to finish this. Sorry for the hiatus T-T

Everything felt like a dream, an inescapable thought, one that would be hard to forget. You cleaned as you shut the door, sweeped a few crumbs with a small pink towel. After placing the last washed dish on the tray, your phone vibrated, a notification popping up as the screen lit, then looking at it was your girlfriend’s message, apologizing for not visiting tonight. Your frustration seemed to lessen down, but it was still there. You decided not to reply and went straight to your room, laying down on the bed. Wonyoung’s kiss felt like it would change it all. The amount of thoughts consumed your mind, and you slowly drifted to sleep. 

You woke up feeling refreshed, blanket almost covering you up like a pharaoh mummy buried for millennia. Headache, you feared having it every time you slept stressed. You stood up and there was none, luckily. The clock showed 8:30; 15 mins before your Science class, and it made you pack your things right away, then rush upstairs to grab your towel to shower. 

Afterwards, you decided to walk your way to school.

The sun’s heat didn’t bother you, the sunlight did. Leaves scattered on the ground moved by the wind’s direction. People walked on the opposite side, but you took the other way for the trees that would cover you from the rays. 

At school, you saw red bandanas hanging on the entrance gate, then to the main corridor, with the school’s name spelled on giant letter stickers with red borders in each. Students stood left and right, having interactions, some had their own task for their school though the council don’t even seem to appreciate it .

You entered the classroom and sat beside Jun, and he gave you a wink. The professor was at his table with a book in his hand and a ballpen tucked between his index finger and middle. A presentation slide was displayed on the TV; talking about what and how’s on Tsunamis.

After the lunch bell rang, your classmates quickly headed outside. You waited for your friends by the entrance door. Others carried lunchboxes, while Jun normally had a wallet in his hand. Along the way you asked him about the situation around, and he called you dumb for being clueless about the inter-school sports competition. Arriving, you saw the canteen crowded. Your friend spotted an empty table at the corner of most of the place with trays and empty chip bags over it. Two tables away from the right sat ladies in white sports jackets, red curves and black stripes in sleeves. One of them looked familiar. 

“Watch your eyes, you wouldn’t want to argue with your girlfriend in this place.” Minho places his lunchbox, opens it, then brings out utensils from the bag. 

“Not really, I’m just wondering what school they are from.” 

“Yonsei, don’t you know?”

You looked at him quickly. Did you hear it right? You thought that you’ve misheard it, but right as he repeated his answer, you’ve been reassured. They are from Yonsei University; the school where Wonyoung currently studies. 

“You alright? Did I say something?”

“No, nothing. I just wondered how we end up fighting against a high class university.” You forced a smile. 

“Ask your hot girlfriend. You know, some girls are blessed with such skills. Should be glad about it.”

Your friends arrived together, holding their bought lunches as they placed it on the table. They wore smiles, out of randomness, they might have stumbled upon something. Your circle’s humor is broken. Sometimes you felt that someone in your classroom was annoyed by your group’s humor. 

“How was your Christmas fam.” Jun wraps his arm around your shoulder, then takes a spoonful bite of rice on his other hand. 

“Sucks.”

“Got sucked or . . “

“No shit for that dirty humor.”

“Just kidding, why the long face though.”

“They must’ve fought,” Minho answered, mouth full. You kept your mouth shut and you knew they would understand, especially Jun.

“So are we guessing the reason for it?” Jun raises a brow.

“She didn’t visit me yesterday. She didn’t even tell me she’s going to drink all night with her friends. I’m not gatekeeping her with all such actions but, isn’t a simple thing to do to update me at least?”

You noticed your friends glanced at each other. Minho paused from taking another spoonful bite of his tonkatsu and placed down his spoon. 

“You both talked about it already?” Jun asked.

“I’m not in the mood to talk to her today.”

“Doesn’t give you a reason though to look up at other girls because of that.” Minho interrupted. Jun nudged you hard in the shoulder

“Yah? I know those Yonsei bitches are a bunch of hot daddy’s daughters. But you know we don’t tolerate cheating, right?”

“I’m not someone who’d do such a thing. I love Sullyoon, alright? It’s just that I'm disappointed.”

“The consequences as well. Sullyoon is hella popular around here in the campus, you should know your decisions. Just talk about it, can you both?” Jun placed taps on your back, and you nodded. 

“We would.” You sighed. You knew how lucky you were to be in a relationship with Sullyoon, everybody does. Not only because she’s pretty, Sullyoon achieves high in classes and you were inspired to be one as well. Through countless arguments between you and her, it got resolved no matter what, but this time you found it worse. 

You snapped off upon the crash sound of a bowl. Minho had accidentally spilled his soup, scattering liquids on the cold floor. Some turned to look at him, and one of them was the Yonsei girls on your right. You made eye contact with one of them, staring for countful seconds, you felt you met her for some time yet you don’t remember. Her hair was curly, eyes almost identical with puppies. She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, then slowly a light smile appeared on her lips.

Your friends watched the woman approach your table. They looked fascinated, then nervous. 

“Y/n?”

“Yujin?”

“Gosh,  I missed you.” She sat on your right despite the little space, and you were forced to move left. She was close, you didn’t care. 

“I missed you too, sunbaenim.”

“Yah, I told you to stop calling me that. Just because I scolded you back when you were noisy as hell does mean you’d make me look already.” Yujin pushed your shoulder. You felt relieved to meet your old friend. She never failed to keep her matured beauty. “I didn’t know you transferred to this . . . school?” Her eyes wandered around the place between words.

“Not everybody is blessed to stay in Yonsei like you.”

She clucked her tongue, pouting. “If only I had enough money to help you return to us, I did already. Bunch of normies around our floor, I hate seeing them.”

“How’s your thing with Junho?” You giggled. 

“Ew?

“Keep ewing, some day you’d fall back at him as well.”

“Stinky ass basketball players.”

“So you’re calling me stinky?”

“You play basket?” Jun interrupts in a polite way. 

“Yeah, you guys don’t know?” Yujin answers, glancing at you confused. “Your friend never told you he used to break legs at our school?”

“Nah, that’s too much.” You sigh and shake your head.

“Hey? Why not tell shit, huh?” Jun nudged you hard once again. He complained why you had to keep it from them, even Minho. You wanted to be an academic student instead. Being popular used to be your dream goal in a campus, but you failed countless times until the last year of senior high, which is the year where you closed with Yujin and her old friends.

 Yujin asked about your participation in the inter school basketball tournament, and the answer was obviously no. Disappointed, but as if she could do anything to change your decision.

“This is Jun, Minho, Lei and Jian.” Each of your friends wave as you introduce their names to Yujin. 

“Oh wait, I’ll introduce my friends as well to everyone.” She called her friends on the other table, gesturing to come as the girls glanced at each other, seemingly lazy, but shortly they stood altogether. You felt a little excitement, new friends maybe? But not until you saw one of them familiar faces, making your heart race. You never expected Wonyoung to be with them.

“Shit, they’re attractive.” Jun mumbled. Soon as they stood beside Yujin, you looked back to your front, at Minho. 

“So this is Rei.” She gestured her hand to the pink haired girl. “Leeseo.” to the ponytailed woman. “Gaeul.” to the short haired girl sucking the lollipop on her hand. “Liz,” to the long haired girl who seemed to love bangs.  “And lastly, Wonyoung.”  Her hair was curly, and last night it wasn’t. With specs atop her hair, you still felt her rich vibe with any outfit she wore. 

You met her eyes, locking for several seconds before you decided to end it. You can’t see her the same anymore. 

“They looked more normies than what we have back in the campus.” Gaeul chuckled.

“Yah? What’s this woman pointing out?” Jun pointed his finger at her, glancing at each of you. “As if the boys in your campus could last in a fist fight, huh?”

“Tryhard bad boys huh?” Liz scoffs. 

“Yujin, these are your friends?” You whisper to her, and she giggles, pushing your thigh.

“Well, Minju, Yena, Chaewon and the others transferred schools. We Wonyoung were the only ones left in Yonsei.”

“Never expected you to obtain such a daddy's girl attitude ass type friends.” 

Yujin giggled, she knew you hit the spot and she seemed to agree. 

***

The beef between your friends and Yujin’s team took a little while, and it stopped until you decided to take Yujin for a treat around the canteen. You never worried about running out of money because you had savings, hidden under the closet, and stupidly getting asked why not put it into the bank instead.

“You and Wonyoung still talk right?” Yujin presses the straw over the shake. 

“Of course.” It took you several seconds to answer. 

“Why didn't you seem to acknowledge each other awhile ago?”

“Are we supposed to pounce on each other when meeting?” 

“Not really, it’s just not normal. Tell me, you fought?”

“Of course, no.”

She presses her shake on your arm and you flinch on how freezing it was. 

“Gonna tell me or what? I knew you sucked on making lies and excuses. Come on, we’ve opened up to each other countless times.”

You sighed heavily, and guided her to the wall railing where the other blocks could be seen. You leaned yourselves on the bar, facing each other.

“She kissed me last night.” 

Yujin choked suddenly, intentional or not, her expression was valid. She then slowly covered her mouth with her fingers.

“Wony? Why? Like she knows you’re in a relationship right? Is she out of her mind?”

“She knows. She told me she kept her feelings for years.”

“So she was not certain about your platonic friendship?”

“Perhaps. I don’t know, I don’t see her the same anymore. I’m very confused right now. I just want to tuck myself inside somewhere that no one could ever find me anymore.

A sigh escaped her mouth. After then she reached her drink at you, asking you to take a sip. It was random. Despite your rejects she kept insisting and you were left no choice to take one. The shake was sweet, melon in flavor and the bits of crushed ice filled in your tongue. 

“I’ve heard that iconic quote from you again.” She grinned and turned to look at the outside view while she combed her hair down with her fingers. “I don’t know, she never opened up to me about it. Though you should talk about it together, but of course not today or here, you might not want your girlfriend to scandalize around the campus.” She glanced at you with a smirk, then shortly her eyes traveled behind you. Her smile slowly dropped.  “And there she goes.”

You felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist. It was soft at first, then tightened a little once it had fully wrapped you. 

“Hey baby.” You hear that usual voice, sweetness with bitterness. The Jasmine scent of her hair soothed; she’d always have that. “Never thought you could talk to outsiders these days.”

You noticed Yujin's little scoff. Sullyoon’s team came together, the Crows, and they stood behind your girlfriend. 

“She’s my old friend from Yonsei, when I used to study there. Her name is Yujin by the way.”

Sullyoon gave her a light smile, and it was enough for you to take that, though you felt it’s a forced one. Yujin gave a light bow in response. You saw Yujin’s team approaching from the distance, walking altogether, their eyes fixed at you and to the Crows. Their faces fearless as they stood behind Yujin, the sense of indirect heat up between the opposing teams. You switched your eyes at your best friend standing behind Liz, and she quickly looked away. 

“Come on, it’s time for practice.” Rei started off. Her eyes traveled between Crow’s members, passively yet aggressive. It must be her natural eye shape. 

“Yeah, I’m going off anyways.” A light smile forms in Yujin’s lips, keeping eyes at you, then bows lightly. “Nice meeting you once again, Y/n.” 

You expected things to go worse, but it turned out not. You’ve known Yujin to act non-passive, she’d always be. Despite her approachable, cool vibe boys would feel comfortable to talk to, she’d be completely opposite. There were reasons, and she told you about it and you felt lucky to get close with someone like her.  The Yonsei girls walked away altogether, turning backs at the same time. You knew they’d talk about it when some of them surrounded Yujin. 

You didn’t know what to do. Yujin and her friends disappeared on your sight when they steered left. The skies dimmed and became cooler when the sun got covered by the thick clouds left and right. There was a sense of heaviness in your chest that wouldn’t just disappear quickly. Sullyoon kept herself beside you while she nodded at her friends, signaling they could walk away. You were hesitant to face, not because you are scared, but because your emotions are still mixed after last night, and what she had left you in. Then when you managed to gather yourself up to face your girlfriend,  her eyes were fixed at you, crossed arms, but in a way she’d let you know she was pissed. 

“Let’s not argue for now.” You started calmly. 

“You’re deciding things between us now?”

“It’s your game day, I don’t want . . . “

“I don’t care Y/n.” She interrupted. “See, you’ve clearly left me in inbox this morning, then seen last night, and this is what I’m going to see?”

You didn’t answer. It was not the sense of being cornered, but in a way you were holding yourself in with your thoughts and words. In few hours, your girlfriend will play carrying the university’s name, and you don't want to be the reason for her downfall.

“I don’t understand Y/n. Sometimes, you’re just ridiculous. I don’t know what to say anymore.” 

You pulled her wrist when she began to walk away, but she shook it off, not bothering to look at you nor give a glance. The struggle to speak, and as you watched her walk out, your feelings got mixed out even more that not even anyone could describe. You kept your composure and watched her follow the team downstairs. 

You didn’t know what to do anymore. 

Few hours later you returned to the classroom, your friends headed first and you saw them in the back row, a chip bag tucked between Minho’s thighs. They would always reserve an empty seat for you. Throughout the class, you felt dumber, maybe because you were stressed, or the short argument between your girlfriend. Jun noticed your sudden quietness. He asked you in a manner the professor wouldn't notice, whispering, but useless when you shook your head as an answer. 

Exactly the start of your girlfriend’s game matched the subject’s wrapping up, and you headed to the gymnasium with your friends, then met three adults outside the entrance door. You’ve thought worse, but it was only a security check, always in every event. Patting each of your clothes, shortly they let you all in. You saw how crowded it was inside, every section almost filled in but there were empty ones around the middle lower area. Red bandanas knotted on each railing ends above, hanging freely as it swayed with the wind  Minho found empty seats on the upper right most section. He asked all of you to sit with him and nobody contested. He bragged how he could pick such good spots and you told him how good the spot is sarcastically. The view felt a kilometer away from the court like it was some Taylor Swift concert. 

The crowd erupted in cheers. You looked over and saw each team appear from different directions. Your school’s team from the left, and Yonsei on the right, near the fire exit. The fans on the right ride waved their balloons colored in blue. They were the Yonsei, and they never left that color. Your school chose the contradicting color, red, just how much you’ve seen that color fill the whole corridor downstairs.

Few minutes long, the game had started. Each student in their own schools chanted their school’s pride along their aggressive wavings of their balloon. Shouts echoing through walls. It was really like a concert. You looked at your friends to see them busy with their phones, and only stopped when they noticed you. You didn’t really care, it was just confusing why they had to stop. 

You could recognize your girlfriend despite the distance from your seat. She is tall, everyone knows that, but you had a certain way of recognizing her: her alluring thighs. Her curvature is just unique, and most of all her pretty face. 

She had thrown good serves and spikes throughout the rounds. Shouts from men seemed more audible, maybe the ones beside their benches where they left their things. It was louder when it’s your girlfriend’s play. Mark beside you never focused on the game, showing you some Instagram reels on his phone that he found hilarious. His humor was broken, but then everyone in the circle understood that.

After several rounds, Yonsei students' chants began to fade but the school’s students. On the digital clock, right in the middle of the net pole, your school had an advantage of four points from your old school. You could see how Yonsei pushed more with their style. Liz managed to give a clean set to your best friend, Wonyoung, and managed to spike the ball hard on the school side. A quick high five on Yonsei’s team then got back to their positions right away. After the whistle blew from the referee, a clean rally was made again. Pass there, pass that, throw, and receive, that’s the flow. When Jinsol spiked the ball, the short-haired girl from Yonsei managed to save it. It was Gaeul if you remember. The ball was a float receive, where Yujin took the shot from the utility position and spiked the ball right beside your girlfriend. You saw Sullyoon shake her head and give a quick side-eye to her. It was funny. Sometimes she’d show her arrogant side, but very rarely. 

Few rounds both schools were tied in points, and once they made another point, then it’s their win. Sullyoon served and was received by Gaeul. Yujin’s team started aggressive. A minus tempo set from the middle by Liz and spiked by Wonyoung, but was received by Haewon from the back. Jiwoo set the ball to Sullyoon on the outside then gave her a good position to spike, but then it was received by Leeseo. The screams from both schools loudened. Balloons waved aggressively. Some began to chant their team’s name, and your friends were focused on the rally. 

As the ball floated on Yonsei’s side, Yujin tried another attack to the opposite side, and Jinsol blocked it, but then was saved by Rei from the left. Given another chance to correct their mistake, Liz sets the ball to Wonyoung. She was open, it was a clear shot for Wonyoung. It felt like the world slowed down and one shot would end the school’s journey to the trophy. The sense of joy was within, it’s your best friend anyways, but it’d be worse to hear the school’s loss.

When she landed a hard slap on the ball, your girlfriend had a lucky timing when she raised both arms sideways at Wonyoung, and as the ball bounced off her arms, it fell down sideways and met Yujin’s court side. Your school’s students erupted in cheers and screams while the Yonsei students died down, but some were still waving their balloons. Your friends cheered. Jun stood up with both arms lifted, and sat down quickly when you and your friends looked at him. Everything was chaotic, the loudness around the court got into you, and it was a sort of memorable experience. A cat walked past when you got outside. Yonsei students made their way towards the shuttle parked outside the large fences. Some wore long faces, some did not, just normal though the bitchiness could be seen. The sun had set down through flat grayish clouds in the distance as if it was peeking at the school. 

You cradled the black furry cat. You were bored, still clueless about what just happened back inside. 

“So, why alone all of a sudden?” Yujin walked from behind, standing beside you as she caressed the cat. 

“Oh, hey.” You smiled, her presence always made you feel relieved. She tilted her head waiting for your answer. “Is it wrong if I Am?”

“It is, and you’re not with your girlfriend right now. Your school won, aren’t you happy with it?” Then she pointed her finger at you, a smirk forming on her lips. “Or you really are, you still support your old school huh?”

“Old school still hits differently.”

“Come on now, support your girlfriend back there.” She nudged your arm. “I’m saving you from your two sided girlfriend. She thought I wouldn’t notice that side-eye she gave me huh.” She giggled and came closer to your ear. “They’re just lucky Gaeul had a fever.” “She had?” “Yeah, but she wanted to play as well. There’s no other better liberos out there than her.” She sighs and looks in the same direction where you are looking. “Well it’s fine, I don’t really care that much. When we first met, I was already playing. I’m tired as fuck I wanna quit, but I wouldn’t want to be replaced by someone stupid as well.” She smiles. “Come on, go inside. We’ll see each other again soon, don't worry.”

You opened your arms, wanting a hug. She faced you with crossed arms and scanned you from toes to your eyes, then grins. She placed her hand between your chest and placed a few taps. It was soft, her hands. 

“You want your girlfriend to kill us both? Well I don’t mind, it’s just you that I’m thinking.” She gently pushed you away. “I’ll return that when you visit Yonsei again. It’ll be more than just a hug if you do.” 

“Like?”

“Of course it’s a secret boy” Her voice disappointed. “Go to our school then you’ll see.”

You shake your head while she keeps that mocking look at you. It sounded wrong, or it was just you. Being green minded has always been inside anyone’s head, so it’s normal, but perhaps you assumed too much. 

***

Back inside, it was messy. Confettis and long red ribbons scattered on the floor, then swept away as you walked through. There were still students around, but most were schoolmates. Yonsei had mostly left together with Yujin’s team. Everything smelled confusing like a group of crowds in the city market. 

You stumbled upon Jinsol before you could reach the gym door. She told you Sullyoon was left back inside, probably waiting for you. She never looked mad or disappointed, she never was, and even placed a ‘bro’ tap on your back before you would have pushed the door open. 

The door clanked closed and it echoed throughout the court. You spotted your girlfriend as she exited the locker room, carrying her duffel bag. She still wore her red varsity shirt and black shorts, kneepads on her knees. Her black hair is loose. There was silence between you two, around five to six seconds, before you ended it with clearing your throat. 

“Congrats, babe. I watched everything, you did great.” You began, hesitation in your tone. 

Her face stayed emotionless, not a single inch of movement from her lips. She kept her gaze and you felt her hatred behind those eyes. She’d always give those whenever she’s mad and you were used to it, but doesn’t fail to give you discomfort at the same time. 

“I mean I know you’re not in your mood to see me right now, but I just want to congratulate you as your boyfriend, and someone who’d stay by your side even in the worst times” You swallowed the lump in your throat, and after another silence came through you started to walk away. 

“So you’re leaving?” She finally spoke, but in a plain tone. You stopped and turned at her. “Is that a boyfriend act?”

“No, of course. I . . I”

“Hesitant? Same reason all over again because you’re scared to talk to me right in my face when these matters come.” 

“I just don’t wanna ruin your day. Today is your win day.” “You step out that door” She points her finger. “And leave me hanging all alone, you think that will not ruin it as well, Y/n?”

You felt exhausted with everything, and it’s just that a simple hug would clearly end this all right away. You were not in your mood to argue, to open up your hatred about Christmas day, and you just want to rest. You let out a deep sigh and walked towards her. The shoes of yours squeaking against the court floor.

“Look, I'm sorry. My emotions consumed me when you ghosted my texts the whole night during christmas. I really hated when I saw you post pics on your story while you left my messages hanging throughout your party. I’m overthinking, and worried. You know that?” You spoke calmly. She crossed her arms, tilting her head.

“You don’t trust me don’t you?” 

“It’s not like that, Yoona. Is it bad for me to feel that way, I’m just worried.”

“Yeah you’re worried, because you don’t trust me. That’s it. We’ve been together for a year and a half already, babe. If I’m that of a cheater like all the other girls you see around this campus, you think we’ll last this long? I chose you because I know I could trust you, and I thought you’d do the same. It’s always you who’s trying to make things worse.”

“I do trust you, okay?” You sighed and groaned. “Alright, I’m sorry. I told you. My emotions consumed me.”

"And what now? You think your sorry could do something on that pain you gave to me? Always the same usual word I'll receive and then guess what, you'd do it again."

"It's my fucking emotions that made me do it. I was out of my mind, I was angry."

"It's not a valid reason for me Y/n. What if you've done something worse than this? Tell me. I'm trying to be understanding most of the time. Why do you have to abuse it?"

There was silence. It was hard to form up such word or thought, and it was better to shut your mouth than feed the fire with more gasoline. She'd always turn the tables and make you the worse one between you couple. She never failed, but you who's a stupid, would let her do it over and over again.

She kept her gaze still, keeping her arms crossed. You could hear her breaths fasten. The silence seemed to calm the situation as it got longer. There were no other people around rather than both of you, so no matter if you both shouted at each other, no one would care. 

“I don’t want our day to be like this, Y/n.” She looked up at you, her tone calmer. Her eyes were still disappointed but she tried her best to look welcoming after. Then she removed her gaze at you and moved it somewhere behind your direction. “So, I’ll let this slide for now. I just want the day great.”

Your light nods made her look back at you. 

“Go get my stuff I left there inside the locker room. That’s the thing you can do for me, for now.”

So you followed. Inside, there were her bags over the bench in the middle of their room. The room smelled Jasmine and a mix of Lavender. The blue tinted glass pane colored the lights outside blue with a hint of ray passing through the glass, down to the floor. As you carried her items, you saw Sullyoon at the door. It was closed, then a clunking sound. She kept her gaze at you while leaning, her hands behind her waist, her foot resting against the door.

“I found it, let’s go?” You smiled and there was still silence. She pushed herself with her foot and began to walk slowly towards you. You kept your composure, watched her image get closer and closer. It was dim. She had not opened the lights but her presence was not impossible for you to see. She pushed the bags over your arms away and you watched it fall on the ground. Her eyes, those alluring eyes, were still chained on yours. You were confused. You began to step backwards while asking her sudden actions, but not a single answer escaped her lips. And when you met the wall behind you, she tilted her head and grasped your right wrist, pushing it against the wall.

Then she leaned for a kiss, capturing your lips quickly. It begins soft, just touching your lips, then slowly she starts to suck into your upper lip. You raised your left arm and wanted to touch her shoulder, but she moved it away, slapping your hand. She pulled away when she grabbed your other wrist. Her eyes filled with hatred, and she gave those to you. Your both arms are both pinned against the wall. 

“Don’t touch me.” She said softly in a warning tone.

“Yoona, here?”

She narrowed her eyes, your question seemed to annoy her more. “You are worried if someone’s gonna catch us here, fucking your loved one inside this dark room. But you never thought of getting worried on how I may feel with all these shitty actions you’re doing nowadays, huh? Isn’t that unfair?” She pressed her body more into you. It was getting more uncomfortable, but sort of hot at the same time. Her breaths warm on your neck. “So I’m here . .” Every phrase, she kisses and slides her lips onto your neck. “To remind you . . . that cheating on me . . . is your loss . . .” She bites your neck and you let out a soft groan. “ and not mine . . .”

She captured your lips once again and this time it was aggressive. You returned the favor, kissing and sucking into her lower lips that felt very soft. She wrapped her arms around your neck. Her strength enough to pull you even for a deeper kiss that your lips were shoving into each other. She let out soft moans between kisses. You felt her tongue asking for entrance and you welcomed it inside yours

Her hands finally freed your wrists, now below your shirt as she pulled it out from you, leaving you shirtless. She continued to place kisses on your necks, and once she gave a hickey on a spot where it’s impossible to be hidden, just a centimeter between your chin, then she came closer to your ear. “And this will be a reminder to your Yonsei friends.” She whispers. 

She made her way down to your chest, sucking into your nipples. You felt like you were in heaven, quite painful, but seeing her hot face devouring you like her post-celebration meal was enough to take those pain away. Her sports shirt, shorts that exposed her thick thigh, she was the definition of seduction. After her works around your chest and into your abs, she finally knelt down. She looked up at you with full desire and lust. Her quickening breaths showed how much energy she had put with those. 

Her hands made their way into your belt, unbuckling it, and there was the click of the lock. She bit her lip when it came loose. She threw it away and pulled your pants down. The bulge of your dick on your black underwear greeted her like a toy that is ready to be played with. 

You felt her hand on your arm, wrapping her fingers, then pulled you to sit on the bench . The blue light ray from the glass pane shining on both of you is enough for her to enjoy the sight even more. She traced circles around your bulge with her fingers, slowly and sensual. Oh you say, it felt like a sort of heavenly trial that is impossible to resist, and when that index finger reached the tip you knew it was the time to succumb upon her. A soft moan escaped her mouth; you felt it hot over your abdomen. Then when she pulled down your underwear quickly, your dick sprang out to show how it’s ready to be served to her. “Quite a long time.” She hummed, enjoying the view in her eyes. And when she wrapped her fingers around it, she began to take you into her mouth, sending shivers to your body. Your hand resting against the bench and your other on her nape. Cold never existed around the room. Every second you’d feel a sweat trick down your body, and thus it easen her job right now. She takes you even deeper into her mouth, pushing herself more down to your cock. You could hear her choke between, but you ignored. It feels more satisfying. You were enjoying every second that she gave to you.  She pulled away and took a quick deep breath. Her eyes tired, but yet the signs of lust. Her hair messy, and a slick of her saliva on her mouth. She bit her lip, continued to take herself more into your cock but this time she went faster. Now it was a different feeling, a sense of rush and it brings you closer to your climax. Seeing her like this was enough to make you finish, but you didn’t want to disappoint your girlfriend, and you know you owe her a lot after all.

Your breath quickened, you were getting very close. And as she watched you, seeing her work at you, she went faster and faster. One last second she pushed herself deeper more into your cock and heard her gurgle. All of today’s argument, stress, and adrenaline finally came into a thick white semen into your girlfriend’s needy throat. She had to make sure it all went straight into her, nothing to waste, nothing to leave a mark of her dirty work. The light outside finally dimmed and it was the sign of night. You let out a deep breath, trying to catch your breath after all. You thought it was done, just a simple quickie she’d always wanted every time, but when she stood up with her eyes not leaving against yours, and leaned closer into you with her fingers grabbing a few strands of your hair, it said otherwise.

“Your turn.” She smirked.

She pressed her foot over your pants to keep it still when you raised your legs out from it. Now you are bare naked. You grabbed her by her waist and brought her towards the locker, pulling her to bend over. Her thick thighs, her soft ass, you were craving for it and you’d never get tired of it. When you slid your hands around it, taking your time to enjoy every inch of it despite the clothing that separates yours and her skin, she moaned. Those moans that’d always keep you active in dirty activities. She made sure it was soft. 

“Show me how sorry you are for your doings.” She groaned.

There was no time to waste. You pulled her tight black shorts down, and showed much of her delicious ass beneath her red undergarment. You squeezed in your fingers between her panties, grabbing both cheeks, then pushed your hands down to her legs where the garment had freely fallen along. She watched you enjoy the view of her thighs. Her hair down free. The moans that escaped her mouth as you guided your hands from her thighs up to her perfect curvature of her waist reminded you how sensitive she was with your touches. Sullyoon crumbled within your fingers, and you knew she enjoyed it. You placed kisses on her ass cheeks, to her thighs, every part down to her knees. She’s something worth praising for. And with this image of her, bending over from a red locker with her desireful eyes gazing was only meant for you. 

As you shoved your cock into hers, she let out a short loud moan, but quick enough to cover her own mouth after. You began to thrust into her slowly, wanting to hear those noises from her mouth and how she’d beg you to ruin her like a slut. She arched her back and showed more of her curves, resting her arms against the locker doors. Your hands wandering on her skin and her sweat made her body look even more hotter. Now that you quickened your pace at her, her moans began to grow. Her fingers clinged against a small hook of an empty locker. She’d try herself not to be loud, but each second, you’d hear her groan and moan beneath her breaths. She’d give you those eyes pleading you for more.

From her waist, now your hands made their way up to her chest while you continued to grind her. You slowly lifted off her varsity shirt when she raised both of her arms, and only left her with her thin black clothing. Quickly unclipping it, you pulled it out and threw it away, exposing her breasts that were soft in your palms. They were perfect, not big, but not too flat, just enough for your palms to squeeze into. Her nipples hard. She pressed your hands more into her pair of tits while grinding yourself into her, and shortly she tapped your waist to stop.

You watched her turn around and face you, wrapping her arms around your neck and pulling you for another deep sensational kiss. Your mouth's sounding the room. She grabbed your hands and placed them against her breasts once again. They were really soft, her nipples that were satisfying to pinch, and each time you’d do, she’d moan between kisses. You pulled away when you felt her hand around your cock and saw her guide it back inside her. It took quite a moment, but shortly she got it done. Her walls were warm, and you couldn’t wait to grind her throughout the dusk. 

“Fucking fuck” She muttered between moans as you resumed your work at her. You carried and held her ass as she raised her legs to wrap it around you, now her full weight under your carry. You pushed her against the lockers and each thrust you gave made audible bangs on the locker doors. She didn’t seem to care about the pain, and the noises seemed to push her louder. 

There are only a matter of seconds before you could reach your climax once again. Her nails dug into your scalp. It was painful, but not for your orgasm that consumed you which made it inevitable. 

“I’m close” She gasps, a visible plea in her face.

She moans loudly around the room that felt like a scream, but now you don't care much. You loved hearing those, her moans felt like a temporary boost to your thrusts, a signal light to be faster. Everything seemed to lose within seconds. You are not in a condom, you don’t know if she’s on her pills, it’s just an entire guess here guess what, pleasure in the end, without thinking of the possible consequences. But right before you would have reached your climax, you pulled away. She knew it, and her mischievous grin showed much of it. Her hands pushed you back into the bench to sit as she knelt down in front of you, continuing to stroke your cock. Her hand rubbed it hard, then  swallowed it back into her throat where you fully shooted your second round of cum. You noticed her rubbing her clit along with her devours and her juices had spread on the floor. 

“Shit, Yoona” There were no other words to say but this. She continued to take you into her mouth, twirling, then slowly pulled off. A slick of your cum on her mouth before she licked it off. You watched her catch her breath while she looked back at you, her eyes showed appreciation, and her hatred seemed to disappear after all. 

“I like it when we do it somewhere illegal. Not in your just boring ass apartment.” She giggled, resting herself over your thighs. You caressed her cheeks and ran your fingers over her smooth hair that was now messy than an hour ago. You could only take your time now appreciating her presence by your side. People don't know what’s in here. They must’ve been in their homes now. It’s already nighttime, around six or a half, and she doesn’t seem to care about it. She just wanted you, being reassured that your love is within her till now.

[rimunagenius]

Bear.

ʚ paring: Kate Martin x reader

ʚ word count: 877

ʚ warnings: RPF!! , otherwise none.

ʚ rimunagenius speaks: here’s the first one shot to the series ‘And They Were Roommates’. thought i should post this while part 4 of the series is being written…This is how Kate got her nickname ‘bear’. Hope you like it!!

One Shot

| Series Masterlist |

The sound of your keys jingling, as you tried and failed to stifle any extra unnecessary sounds due to your pounding headache, made the pain ten times worse. The soft clicking of the lock even made you feel pain all the way in your ears.

You had test after test, shift after shift, and you just couldn’t wait to get home. The migraine coming on the second your second test today had started. You had fought tears all day long, your eyes burning from the resistance.

Finals week was no joke for a working college student. You had to study in between breaks and shifts at your different jobs. During any off time while the woman’s basketball team was practicing.

Finally kicking your shoes off in the middle of the living room, reminding yourself to pick them up after when ever you decide to get up so Kate won’t have to.

You don’t know how long you’d been there, lying on your couch. The relentless pain after you took the max limit of painkillers, and your migraine still wouldn’t go away. Fighting and resisting the urge to cry it out all day, in fear of being judged and the pain multiplying, you couldn’t take it. You just cried.

You were laying on your back, staring at the one spot on the ceiling you and Kate seemed to stare at whenever you were struggling while on the couch, and just cried.

You couldn’t even stop when Kate had walked through the door. “Hey, I was thinking I could make spaghetti for dinner tonight, something eas—you okay?” The concerned look on her face you couldn’t see as your vision was blurred through the actively falling tears.

At this point, you hadn’t realized you were still crying. Your head pounding so hard you couldn’t even feel them anymore. “Hey, sunshine? Are you okay?” Kate approached slowly, crouching down next to you. She moved hair out of your face, you instantly leaning into her touch.

“My head hurts…so fucking bad. I can’t…make it stop.” You talked quietly, in fear of hearing your own voice will make the pain worse.

Kate wiped the tears that were still falling, knowing how tough this week had been on you. That’s why she kicked off her shoes, removed her phone and keys from her pocket, placing them gently down on the coffee table behind her, and pushed the upper half of your body off the couch so she could slide in ride under you.

She gave you time to turn your body around, so you were laying flat on her chest, resting on your stomach. She rubbed her hands up and down your back, pushing your hair behind your ears, occasionally wiping more tears that fell down your face.

“You’ll be okay. I’m here.” She cooed as you just continued to lay there. “I’m sorry you had a rough day.” It was her turn to stare at the spot on the ceiling while you two just layed there, her providing whatever comfort she could.

“Spaghetti sounds nice.” You whispered, blinking so you could atleast see out of your eyes. “I’m starving.”

“That’s probably why your head hurts, sunshine. When’s the last time you ate anything?” You now realized that skipping dinner last night and opting to not eat anything all day today, mixed with your lack of water intake over the last two days, and little to no sleep because of studying, was a horrible idea. You were just so busy and stressed you said you’d get to it and you didn’t.

“I don’t remember.” You whispered back, resting your chin on her chest, so you could look at her. Her eyes softened and she rubbed your back.

“Alright, i’ll make dinner when your ready, sound good?” You nodded softly, giving her a grateful small smile.

“Thank you, Kate. You’re the best friend on this god forsaken planet.” You wrapped your arms around her, atleast what you could since you were on top of her on the couch.

“Your welcome. I’ll always be here.” She hugged you back, her arms firm yet so comforting. She was warm, soft, and so gentle. A stark contrast from what she looked like when she was playing basketball. Who knew the tough and rough Kate Martin could be such a sweetheart.

“Your oddly soft. Who would’ve thought?” You hummed softly, a sudden wave of drowsiness hitting you like a truck.

“What?” The blonde chuckled, adjusting her arms on your body.

“I said, your soft…and cuddly. Almost like a teddy bear. Makes me feel safe, and warm. And sleepy.” You mumbled, half yawning while your voice started to grow quieter; sleep slowly making you succumb to it.

“Thank you?” Kate didn’t know what to say, all she knew is it was the nicest compliment she’s ever gotten. You liked her hugs and she made you feel safe.

“My own personal teddy bear.”

“Okay, get some rest, sunshine. You need it. I love you.” Kate stroked your head while you snuggled in closer.

“I love you, bear.”

You both stayed right there. Eventually taking a nap. It called for a late dinner, but neither of you cared. Just too comfortable and safe to care.

[ichorai]

ties that bind ; nanami kento ; october 26th.

pairing ; nanami kento x reader

drabble synopsis ; nanami shows up to work smelling like you, and gojo has quite a keen sense of smell.

themes ; fluff, slice of life, established relationship (married)

warnings / includes ; more domestic vibes, nanami's Tired guys someone give him a vacation

series masterlist.

26th october, 2016

Nanami was having a long morning. Granted, the clock hadn’t even hit 9 AM yet, but he was already feeling particularly exhausted. 

Possible reasons included, but were not limited to: the local bakery he usually went to for breakfast was out of his favorite kind of almond croissants, the vending machine that held his precious coffee outside of the school was out of order, forcing him to go forgo caffeine for the day, Principal Yaga informed him of an influx of village curses he needed to take care of since the school was currently short-handed on staff, and, finally, Gojo would just not stop pestering him. 

The lanky, white-haired colleague of Nanami’s started off by sending roughly a dozen memes about a trendy topic he really had no interest in whatsoever. Then, when Gojo realized that Nanami had muted his messages when he no longer kept responding with: “Stop sending me these during work hours”, he took it upon himself to barge into his office and languidly splay himself across the couch situated opposite his desk and chair. 

Perhaps the only saving grace of this morning, Nanami recalled, was waking up next to you—a sight he’d been blessed with for over a year now. You were still asleep when his alarm buzzed, though you mumbled something groggy and unintelligible under your breath. Knowing that you had a tiring day yesterday, your husband let you sleep for another five minutes while he slipped out from beneath the comforters to wash up. When he returned, you had curled up on his side of the bed, nose smothered into his pillow to inhale his scent. Nanami’s hand reached out to brush stray hairs away from your face, still slackened with sleepiness, but your eyes were cracked open into narrow slits.

“Hey, honey,” he whispered, voice soft as ever. “We’ve got work soon. Do you want me to drop you off?”

You worked at a local university quite close to home. Though curses weren’t particularly attracted to you, what with your easy-going and admiringly-positive demeanor, where you worked was a breeding ground for negative emotions. Stressed students and impatient professors always had universities crawling with curses of all sorts. Nanami never liked the idea of you working in such an environment.

“I think I’ll call in sick today,” you mumbled back, pushing yourself to sit up against the headboard with a lethargic wince. “I have a terrible headache… I think I might be coming down with a cold. I’ve just got to reschedule today’s lecture with the students for another day.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, brows kinking with worry as he moved to sit down next to you. “Do you need me to pick up anything for you from the pharmacy?”

“I’ll be okay,” you told him in a reassuring manner. A bright, but tired smile made its way onto your face when the back of his hand rested over your forehead to feel your temperature. He frowned in concern and pulled away—you were much warmer than usual. 

Then, he dipped forward to press a chaste, but loving kiss right over your temple. “Get some rest, okay? I’ll make you some tea.”

“You should be getting to work, Kento—”

He made a dismissive noise, and got up to go fix you the warm drink, squeezing in some honey and lemon in case you had a sore throat, too. A few minutes later, he came back with the steaming mug, and a pack of unopened paracetamol he fetched from the kitchen drawers. 

“Take one now, and another by lunchtime if you’re still feeling unwell,” he told you, his sharp features displaying nothing but raw concern. 

“Yes, doc,” you said with a slight laugh and a salute. “I’ll be okay, honey, really. It’s just a little cold, but thank you for the tea. Now you go and get ready for work.”

Kento pursed his lips, kissed your head again, and rose from your side to go change into his professional attire. Even after all this time, he could feel a warm flush settling over his cheeks when you whistled in appreciation from the bed, clutching the mug of tea in between your palms with a grin. 

“You look so handsome, Kento.” 

“It’s the same thing I always wear.”

“My point stands,” you said, voice rife with mirth. He shot you a soft, appreciative smile.

In his haste to get ready and rush off to work, he accidentally spritzed himself with your perfume rather than his usual cologne. He didn’t mind all that much, anyway, because that meant he’d be able to smell you all day long, and hurried to gather the rest of his things. 

“I love you, please send me a message if you need anything,” he said just as he was about to leave, thumb brushing just beneath your jaw. 

“I will,” you reassured, one hand lifting away from the mug to take hold of his palm and tug the appendage upwards so you could kiss the inside of his wrist, right over his pulse. “Have a good day at work, hon.”

God, he loved you more than anything. 

Now, with Nanami’s mind both burdened with thoughts of you being sick, and stressed over the new wave of village curses Yaga asked him to take care of, he hadn’t even noticed Gojo suddenly right at his side rather than ridiculously spreading out over the office’s couch.

“Ooh, Nanamin,” he said the fond nickname in a crude, high-pitched tone, and over-exaggerated sniffing at Nanami’s suit, “Who is this I’m smelling on you? Are you seeing someone behind my back?”

Nanami’s left eye twitched behind his spectacles. It was a relatively easy choice he made not to tell anyone at work about you. He very much preferred to keep work and personal life separate. 

“It’s my new perfume,” Nanami bluntly said, expression remaining unamused. 

“I didn’t take you for a floral-note kind of man,” Gojo crooned in response with a roguish grin. If he thought that Nanami was lying at all, he betrayed no signs of such. “I love it! What brand is it? Where’d you get it?”

“Get out of my office, Gojo.”

The blind-folded man snickered and rubbed his hands together. Nanami’s evident irritation only seemed to egg him on. “Didn’t Yaga tell you? I’m coming with you today! Apparently there’s been reports of a special-grade curse there. You’re going to need my help, you know.” Gojo prodded at Nanami’s biceps.

Nanami’s lips pinched tightly. “Perfect,” he gritted out. 

It was only nine in the morning, but he already couldn’t wait to get back home to you.

[writingforstraykids]

I owe you a kiss - Pt.7

Pairing: Minchan x femReader

Word Count: 3592

Summary: The more time you spend with them, the more you realize you're not the only one struggling. Chan and you try to sort things out, making sure Minho feels safe at home as well.

Warnings/Tags: fluff, angst, domestic bullshit, sick!whiny!chan, anxious!min, cuddles

A/N: Sooo...I guess there's still some potential for more. If you have any wishes or thoughts, feel free to share them below the post. in an ask, or send me a message🤭🖤

PART SIX | PART EIGHT

You left early this morning to surprise your husbands with breakfast. Chan told you he'd have the next two days off and stay home with you two. Minho was due for a photoshoot tomorrow so it would be only you and Chan. He's still been keeping his distance beside the kisses anywhere but your lips, the long hugs, and the fondling of your hair. Minho has been more openly showing his love and you were thankful for him. You know you'd have to talk to Channie about it but you could tell he was hesitant about pushing you into something. You quietly lock the front door and put the bags down on the table. The shower upstairs is running, which means at least one of them is up, so you start preparing everything. 

Minho joins you downstairs a little later and gives you a loving kiss. “Good morning, honey,” he smiles sweetly. 

“Morning, darling,” you smile into the kiss. “Channie's still sleeping?” you ask. 

“Am I not enough?” he teases lovingly. 

“Minnie,” you giggle, and his hands wander down your sides. 

“He said something about a bad headache,” he tells you and fondles your back soothingly. “I don't know, maybe he's stressed, maybe it's the weather.”

“Oh,” you nod gently. “Did you give him some painkillers?”

“No,” Minho shakes his head, tilting his head at you. “I thought you could. He usually loves cuddling you when he's in pain.”

“I..uh,” you blink at him, watching his face grow soft. 

“Channie and you really need to talk once he's better,” he says and gently caresses your head. “You know he loves you, right?”

“I try to,” you nod, chewing on your lower lip. “I miss him,” you admit quietly, feeling tears burn in your eyes. 

“I know,” Minho pulls you into a warm hug and kisses your head. “It's a bit more difficult for the two of you because he left off when he wasn't feeling much, struggling to tell you he loves you and more. He doesn't want to force himself onto you, scared that he'll hurt you,” he says. “He…he also feels like you need me more at the moment and feel more safe around me.”

“Oh,” you say quietly. 

“I don’t blame any of you, I think you two should just talk, hm?” he suggests. “Now come on, baby, Channie needs you.”

“What about you?” you ask, confused. 

“I have to leave for the shoot in a bit,” he says, seeing your face fall, knowing you must’ve forgotten.

“I thought that’s tomorrow,” you admit, a little embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Min.”

“No, don’t be sorry, honey,” he smiles at you reassuringly. “That only means we can all spend some time together tomorrow. That’s even better now that Channie isn’t feeling so well today,” he tells you. 

You chuckle softly, cupping his face and kissing his forehead. It all feels so easy with Minho, easing out every little thing you forget so smoothly. “Make sure to eat something first, okay? Or at least take something with you.”

“I will,” he promises, unable to hide the soft blush coloring his ears at your gentle gesture. He peeks into the bag on the table, and a wide smile covers his face. “You got some pudding as well?”

“Mhm,” you hum, smiling softly as he takes it out and stares at the package before spinning back around to you. 

“Wait, that’s my new favorite…how would you-?” his eyes widen with excitement as you nod gently.

“Seeing it I had the feeling you love that one,” you nod. “Like not…a specific memory, but I felt weirdly sure about it,” you tell him, heart warming at the way he beams at you happily. 

“I hope you know how great you’re doing,” he says so softly it tugs at your heartstrings. “That first breakthrough was only a week ago, and here you are,” he giggles.

You exhale softly, nodding. “I’m glad because that means there’s an actual chance I’ll start remembering more,” you smile, laughing, surprised as he kisses you fiercely. Minho doesn’t pull away, hands pulling you in as close as he can. Your hand automatically wanders up into his hair, your other resting on his arm as you kiss back. Two steps and your back hits the counter. Minho reaches down, hands wrapping around the back of your thighs, and lifts you up onto the counter effortlessly without breaking the kiss apart. His fingers dig into your thighs as he deepens the kiss with a low hum, and you can tell he has trouble holding himself back. “Minho,” you whisper against his lips. “Min, stop,” you say gently, and he does immediately.

He searches your eyes, a hint of anxiety in the pure need coating his orbs. “Sorry,” he pants softly, reddened lips parted and glistening from the heavy kisses. “I-I should’ve asked first.”

You cup his face, soothingly rubbing his thumbs across his cheeks. “My dear Min,” you say softly. “I’m your wife, and I appreciate you asking, but right now, there’s really no need to,” you assure him, and he visibly relaxes. “You’re gonna be late.”

“Is that all?” he asks mischievously. 

“Min,” you snort.

“Is that the only reason I can’t have you for breakfast instead?” he asks again. 

“Yes, that’s the only reason,” you giggle, gently shoving his chest. “Now fuck off, Min.”

He smirks, gently squeezing your thighs, and takes a step back. “You owe me tons of kisses later,” he announces giddily. 

You laugh, hop back down, and kiss him once more. “Stay safe, okay?”

“I have to,” he says gently. “I really want that kiss,” easing both of your worries hidden beneath this small exchange.

“I’ll go check on Chan now,” you tell him, and he hums agreeingly. 

-

Only a little later, you carefully open the door to your bedroom, trying to close it as quietly as possible. “Channie?” you whisper, and he hums groggily in response. “I brought you some painkillers and water. Do you think you can sit up for a moment?”

Chan groans in response before pushing himself up. He squints at you sleepily, trying to ignore the pulsing pain shooting through his head at sitting up. You sit down at the edge of the bed next to him, handing him the pill. Chan drowsily takes it and lets you bring the glass to his lips, taking a few sips. 

“You’re hungry?” you ask, still keeping your voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” he mumbles, eyes already falling closed again. “Feel sick.”

“Oh, poor baby,” you say softly, and Chan blindly reaches out for you. 

“Stay?” he asks pleadingly.

“If you want me to,” you say gently.

Chan nods before contorting his face. “Ow,” he whines softly, scrunching up his nose adorably. “I think I’m dying.”

You bite back a soft chuckle and climb back into bed, getting comfortable next to him. “Come here, you big baby,” you tell him, and he doesn’t need a second invitation to curl up in your arms. 

“M’not a baby,” he mumbles softly into your chest, burying his face in your comforting warmth. 

“You really wanna argue now?” you tease him lovingly. “I thought you were dying.”

“Fuck you,” he giggles weakly, pulling you closer. “It really hurts, Y/nnie,” he whines after a moment of silence.

You forget sometimes how needy he gets when he’s in pain. “What hurts, baby?”

“My stomach,” he groans softly. 

“Let me get you a heat-” you start and sit up, but he pulls you back down.

“Don’t go,” he pleads, looking at you with those big brown puppy eyes you couldn’t say no to.

“Channie, angel, I’m trying to help,” you giggle softly.

“You are,” he says timidly. “Hold me, please? I…I really missed that. I missed you.”

Oh. “I’m here,” you tell him softly, welcoming him back into your arms. You gently run your hand through his hair, and he melts into you with a soft sound. “Is that okay?” you ask as you carefully start massaging his scalp. 

“Yeah,” he breathes out. “Feels good.”

“Tell me if it hurts, okay?” you ask gently, and he hums. The tension in his body lessens a little the longer you massage his scalp, running your fingers through his messy curls. You don't know how long you stay like this with him, but you have the feeling he's asleep after a while, his breathing growing calm. His head is tucked in safely beneath yours, his hand slipped beneath your sweater resting against your lower back. It almost feels normal again if there weren't that stupid little voice in the back of your head telling you differently. 

Chan turns in his sleep, scooting back as he misses your warmth. “Baby,” he whines sweetly, reaching back for your hand. He pulls your arm forward so you're hugging him and cuddles back into you. 

You chuckle softly and scoot closer, planting a tiny kiss on the back of his neck. “I'm here, Channie, I'm here,” you promise quietly. 

“Still hurts,” he mumbles, only half awake. 

You gently slip your hand beneath his shirt, resting it on his tummy. “Here, baby?” you ask gently, and he hums in response. You start rubbing soothing circles over his tummy, trying to ease him a little. 

Chan exhales, relieved, sinking back into his slumber. You bury your nose in his shoulder, closing your eyes as your senses are flooded with him. His skin feels warm beneath your fingertips, his soft breathing lulls you in, and his scent surrounds you. “I love you so much,” you whisper, and he doesn't stir one bit, finally fully asleep. 

-

Minho gets home later to the sight of you two cuddled up in bed. Chan's head is resting on your chest now as he sleeps on top of you. You have your arms wrapped around him lazily, looking peaceful in your sleep. He smiles softly and leans down, lovingly fondling your head and brushing back Chan's curls. He doesn't want to wake you two up yet, but glancing at his watch, he knows he should. Neither of you would be able to sleep tonight otherwise. “Hey, my loves,” he tries gently, rubbing Chan's back and your arm to get you to wake up. 

“No,” Chan protests sleepily. 

“Come on, Channie. You won't be able to sleep tonight,” he tells him, and Chan groans softly. “Y/nnie, wake up, honey,” he says gently, and a shiver runs down his spine as you’re too deep asleep to react. “Y/n?” he asks again, and Chan looks up at his tone. 

“Kitten,” he says soothingly and sits up, rubbing his face. “She's okay,” he promises. Minho glances at you worriedly until Chan gently grabs his chin and turns his head to face him. “Breathe.” He reaches out for you, tickling your side. 

“Ey, fucker!” you curse sleepily, swatting his hand away. 

Minho blinks at you for a moment before a weak laugh falls from his lips. “Fucks sake,” he whispers to himself. “I'm such an idiot,” he mutters and gets up, grabbing his keys from the nightstand. “Come down once you're ready, yeah? I brought lunch.”

Chan watches him thoughtfully as he leaves and glances back down at you. “Come on, pretty,” he giggles softly. 

“Ugh, fine,” you groan and sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “How's your head?”

“A lot better,” he tells you, grabbing a sweater from his closet. 

“Your stomach?”

“All good,” he smiles gently. “Thank you, baby girl.”

“Of course,” you mirror his smile, but you see the worry lacing his features. “What's wrong?”

“I don't know, something's off with Min,” he says. “You didn't react when he tried to wake you, and I think he got scared for a second.”

“Oh,” you nod gently and tilt your head at Chan. “Maybe that's it. I'm sure he'll be fine. If not, we're there.” Chan nods agreeingly and offers you his hand, helping you out of bed. 

Chan exchanges a look with you as a loud thunder ripples through the air. “You know what that means?”

“More cuddles and a movie?” you smirk back. 

“Exactly,” he grins, pulling you downstairs with him. 

Minho already sets the table and smiles tiredly as you join him downstairs. Another thunder makes him flinch, barely noticeable, and he takes a deep breath. “Just rain,” he tells himself quietly.

“You need help with anything?” you ask him. 

“No, it's okay, you guys can sit down,” he tells you and grabs you all some glasses from the cabinet. Chan and you continue talking as Minho pours you all something to drink. The rain outside picks up, hammering against the roof. 

“I think we should turn on the light, it's getting darker every minute,” Chan says, getting up to do so. 

“Yeah, that's a lot better and-,” you break off as the next thunder makes Minho flinch so hard he's pouring the lemonade all over your lap. 

“Oh shit, I'm so sorry,” he apologizes immediately, putting it down and grabbing some tissues. You watch him cautiously as he tries to clean the mess up as well as he can and notice his hands shaking heavily. 

“Min?” you ask gently and exchange a look with Chan. Something is very wrong. “Min, look at me.” He does, and there's fear in his eyes, looking like he's about to zone out. “Minnie, what's -.”

Outside, a car suddenly hits the brakes, an ugly screeching sound rippling through your ears. Minho covers his ears with his hands in horror and presses his eyes closed, exhaling shakily. “It's okay, everything is okay,” he whispers, and the sight breaks your heart as you connect the dots. 

Chan seems to pick up on it as well, as you both move at the same time. Chan pulls Minho against his chest, wrapping his arms around him from behind. He soothingly rubs his chest and meets your eyes as you step in front of them. You gently take Minho's hands and pull them from his ears. “Minho, darling, look at me,” you say gently, and Minho does, gasping softly. “We're okay. It's just bad weather, but we're safe, okay?”

“Okay,” he nods quickly and tries to focus back on you. You cup his face, and he covers your hands with his own, taking a deep breath. “Okay,” he whispers. 

“Remember what you told me this morning?” you ask, and Minho chuckles weakly. 

“You owe me at least one kiss,” he says, slowly relaxing in Chan's hold combined with the sound of your voice. 

“Yeah,” you giggle softly. “We're okay, hm?”

Minho nods before dropping his head onto your shoulder with a soft sound. “I'm sorry,” he says and wraps one arm around you, his other hand finding Chan's on his chest. 

“Don't be,” Chan tells him gently. 

“It's okay,” you assure him. 

“I love you two so much,” he sighs softly, and you both squeeze him gently. 

“We love you too, kitten,” Chan answers for the both of you. 

You stay there for a while until Minho giggles softly. “You can let go now.”

“You're sure?” Chan smirks. 

“Very sure,” Minho snorts. 

“You already have enough of our love?” you chime in teasingly. 

“Never,” he giggles. 

“Then what's the rush, huh?” Chan chuckles, covering the back of his neck with tiny kisses as you do the same to his face. 

“Oh, for fucks sake,” he laughs happily. Chan and you exchange a fond gaze at the so beloved sound, knowing he's okay. “I can't reheat lunch again.”

“Fine,” you giggle, letting go of him again. 

-

The movie’s long finished as you're still all on the sofa. Minho's stretched out on the sofa, his head resting in your lap, legs thrown over Chan's. He's asleep by now, exhausted from his day. You mindlessly play with his hair, drawing patterns on his face in awe. Chan absentmindedly fondles his thighs, head back against the headrest as he stares at the ceiling. You glance at him, gently running your hand through his hair. “How's your head?” you ask as his eyes flutter close at your touch. 

“Much better,” he assures you gently, turning a little to face you. Looking into his eyes, you can see the many questions in them, mirroring your own. “Y/nnie?” he asks, barely audible. 

“Mhm?” you hum, still playing with his curls. 

“Do you…Do you still love me? Actually love me?” he asks so timidly your breath hitches in shock. 

“I-,” you stare at him, almost confused. Wasn't that supposed to be your question? 

Chan takes your silence the wrong way and nods, turning away from you. “Okay…fuck,” he whispers, his throat tightening. He's up before you know it, leaving the two of you as tears fill his eyes, and he feels like he can't breathe. 

You need a moment to process what's happening before quickly getting up, resting Minho's head on a pillow, and covering him with a blanket. 

Chan's upstairs in the bathroom, bracing himself on the sink so firmly that his knuckles turn white. His head hangs low, but you know the way his body’s trembling; he's holding back sobs. You slip underneath his arm so you're trapped between his body and the sink. “Channie,” you whisper, helplessly cupping his face. Your hands meet his wet skin, and you try to wipe his tears away. “Channie, my dear boy.”

“I'm sorry I messed it all up,” he whimpers. “I shouldn't have pushed you away back then, and I shouldn't have now. I swear I'll make it up to you. Please just give me a chance,” his voice cracks at the last bit. 

“Okay, okay, come here,” you say, pulling him into your arms. He buries his face in your shoulder, shaking in your arms. “Listen closely now, yeah?” you ask, waiting for his nod. “I will never stop loving you. Min told me how rough those months before the accident were for you, and I won't judge you for that. I know how hard you try to make Min and me comfortable, don't think I don't see that,” you tell him gently, soothingly rubbing his back as he grows calmer in your hold. “I'm scared I'm not the woman you love anymore because, well, I forgot a lot, and I carry a lot of baggage around now. And seeing you keeping your distance, I only felt like I was right about that…but maybe we're scared of the same thing about ourselves?”

Chan pulls back and smiles at you with teary eyes. “Y/nnie, you don't mean anything less to me than when we met. Fuck, you mean so much more to me by now. I just…Now that I got it back it feels like I don't know where to put all that love I have for you two and..I try bottling it up before scaring you off.”

“Please don't,” you tell him gently. “You've always been so loving, don't try to hide that. I really miss that, angel.”

Chan leans his forehead against yours in defeat and takes a shuddery breath. “So we're okay?” he asks timidly. 

“We're okay,” you whisper. “Can I kiss you?” you ask and Chan's body automatically searches yours, fingers digging deep into the fabric of your sweater. 

“Please,” he breathes out. Your lips meet, pulling a soft sound from him. “Missed you so much,” he whispers into the kiss, hands cupping your face so delicately as if you were made of glass. 

You only pull back once you feel he's ready and wrap your arms around his neck, cuddling into him. “I love you, Channie. So, so much. Never forget that.”

“I love you too,” he smiles softly. “I'll do better.”

You shake your head and soothingly run your hand through his hair. “Channie…I think sometimes we forget we interrupted your healing process with that stunt we pulled.”

“Don't call that a stunt,” he laughs in protest. 

“Okay,” you giggle, amused. “But like…you were working things out and coming back…Min told me how fucked up he was. I know that fight we had and what happened today is only a small glimpse of what you dealt with. So, you didn't really have time to get back home.”

“I suppose not,” he nods gently, frowning a little. 

“I can't change the fact that I need to be patient for my memories to come back…even if it's just partially,” you say and gently kiss his head. “But I will try my best to help you two feel comfortable around me and make sure you have a loving home.” Chan doesn't say anything, but the way he clings to you tells you everything you need to know. “Let's go get Minnie, I think we could all use the extra hours of sleep today.”

“Mhm, okay,” he hums softly, not quite ready to let go of you. 

“We can cuddle, angel,” you promise, and he pulls back with the sweetest smile on his lips. 

-

Chan gently picks up Minho from the sofa who protests with a soft whine. “Shh, it's okay, just taking you to bed,” he says fondly. 

Minho wraps his arms around him sleepily. “You two are okay?” he asks softly, having noticed your sudden absence. 

“Yeah, we're okay,” Chan nods. 

“That's good,” Minho smiles sweetly, kissing his neck sleepily. 

He doesn't protest much as Chan lowers him into bed and cuddles into you contently. Chan climbs into bed on your other side, doing the same. You fall asleep much more at peace than usual. You'd take care of your boys now. 

PART SIX | PART EIGHT

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

If your name is marked red I couldn't tag you for some reason.

@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @kailee08 @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @palindrome969 @michelle4eve @harshaaaaa @rylea08 @heeyboooo @manuosorioh @gisaerlleri @andassortedkpop @lailac13 @bbokari711 @kazuuuaaa @rssamj @wolfyychan @stellasays45 @chrizzztopherbang @ontito0icongirls @furiousheartpoetry @bluesiebirdie @scarlet789 @ziipzeepzop-eez @lost-in-avoidance @dprkbyn @bear8585 @lee-knows-cats @mintchip17 @zdgx1 @zerefdragn33l @chansducky10 @melanctton @0325tiny @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @daisyjihannie @felixs-brownies78 @moonchild9350 @weareapackofstrays @roriiror

[weirdsht]

HAHAHAHA imagine Cale with someone weaker than him + a troublemaker and oftentimes think crazier than him, but they're useful so that's what tied them together with the gang💀 bro might feel the stress his hyungs felt whenever he throws himself into danger lol and would start reflecting. Have u done this b4? :D

Is This My Karma? - Cale/Reader

notes: anon... did you take a look inside my mind? or maybe my docs? because the series i'm going to publish later has a similar prompt. i was gonna make it a surprise but since the cat is out of the bag imma announce it here lol. i'll be making a cale/reader slowburn series or at least try but while waiting for that you guys enjoy this small drabble from anon's ask first

tags: fluff, sickfic, reader is an idiot, cale is also an idiot, idiots in love basically, choi han is in charge of their single braincell, established relationship

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

Buy Me Dessert

Navigation Masterlist

“For the last time, you will not pass your cold to the White Star. How are you even going to achieve that? Also what merit would it bring if that punk catches your sickness?”

Cale glanced over at the sick person in his bed speaking nonsense. Well, it’s not completely nonsense as it was possible.

…If that said person wasn’t on the verge of dying because of a fever.

“We both cough know it’s cough possible. Plus you’re not looking at the bigger picture of cough White Star getting a fever.”

“No you’re just thinking irrationally-”

“Ah ah, I’m still cough speaking. Let the cough sick cough speak.”

“...I think the sick should shut the hell up and sleep.”

The person who is Cale’s significant other only glared at the commander before drinking the water Choi Han handed to them. When arguments like this first happened the swordmaster would interject to create peace.

But that was before he learned just how unhinge this person was.

_____, Cale’s headache and significant other, was a naturally weak person. Even weaker than Cale without ancient powers. However, despite their physical prowess being on the weaker side they have a very useful ancient power.

They have a wood attribute power that can conjure flowers, grass, and trees with either poison or healing powers. Its downside is that the abilities do not work on _____. However, they can make flowers that can spread whatever sickness they have at the moment.

“We all know you just need to fling me at cough a good distance near Mr. Steal-My-Cale’s-Looks and I can pass him my cold with the flowers. Easy peasy Ron’s lemon squeezy.”

Cale remembers _____’s explanation being that the flowers' pollen would contain the same bacteria and virus as their body. Or something along those lines.

“...”

“Hear me cough out, okay? Imagine this, White Star with his plate on the verge of breaking, coughing out so much blood, armless in every sense of the cough as well. Imagine a cough nasty fever and cough combo on top of that.”

“...”

_____ looked at the silent Cale expectantly.

“Sometimes I really wonder why I got together with a punk like you”

“But you love me!”

Sigh

Cale couldn’t refute so he just sighed.

At first, he let _____ join their group because they were useful. Not only is their ability useful but they are also intelligent. They have the see the faults in Cale’s plan and think of a counter-measure. They can also conjure up great plans.

Well, most of the time at least.

Other times look like this…

“No, we are not doing your absurd plan. Just go to sleep and get better, I’ll take care of things.”

Cale kissed the top of _____’s head.

“And don’t even try to think of sneaking out like you did last time. Alberu and Tasha almost had a heart attack.”

The previously smiling _____ because of Cale’s kiss was now pouting because of the reminder. 

Meanwhile, Cale let them be as he went out of their bedroom.

He let out another sigh as he did. Behind him was Choi Han struggling to suppress a smile, wait no a laugh.

“What’s up with you?”

“No, it’s just that Cale-nim you and _____-nim are really similar.”

Choi Han added after seeing Cale glare at him.

“Sometimes that’s how your plans look to us.”

“Haaa”

Cale couldn’t help but notice how his acting like his sworn brother right now.

‘Is this how the crown prince feels about me?’

Not just the crown prince but everyone else as well.

‘Was this why team leader-nim and Choi Jung Soo insisted that I should farm with them even after retirement?’

There was no way, right?

‘There’s no way me and _____ are similar. I’m not self-sacrificial like that. I always make sure that I will live.’

Right?

Looks like he finally got all my warnings.

Cale ignored Super Rock’s voice.

But still, he can’t deny that he caused his group some headaches.

“...I will reflect on myself.”

Choi Han only nodded and smiled at the dazed young master.

Meanwhile, Cale’s mind is a bit chaotic right now.

‘Did my karma come in the form of my significant other?’

There’s no way that’s the case… right?

Right???

[erindrinkstea]

Please Please Please

Poly! Dark! 141 x Reader

TW: Dark Themes, Spicy Themes, Possessive Behavior, Obsessive Behavior, Violence, Blood, Death

Description, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Main Masterlist | CoD Masterlist

Note: The long awaited Part Four!

"Ah, fuck."

The words slipped out as the crushing pain yanked you from the merciful void of unconsciousness, jolting you back into the harsh reality of the suffering you’d momentarily escaped.

“Settle down, sweetheart.” The gruff voice grated on your nerves, and you groaned, too hazy to register who was speaking but annoyed enough to resent the command.

"Easy for you to say." you hissed, batting away the hand rubbing your shoulder. "Feels like I got dragged down from Heaven straight into Hell."

“As much as Heaven might miss its angel, I’m not nearly saintly enough to let you go just yet.” Another deep, rough voice cut in, the familiar chill of it snapping you back to reality.

“Price? Ghost?” You blinked, coming to your senses. “Holy shit. I’m alive?”

Their expressions darkened at that.

“Of course you are. We’d skin the medics alive if you weren’t.” Ghost chuckled, though there wasn’t a hint of humor in it. The edge in his tone made you suspect he wasn’t joking.

"How was the mission?" you asked, worry sparking for the victims left in that hellish place.

"All civilians are on the path to recovery. And you should be too.” Price replied, casting you a look that was half-reassurance, half-warning.

“You were reckless. Careless enough to be suicidal." Ghost scolded, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“We’re in the military. We’re the 141. Everything we do is suicidal, lieutenant.” you shot back, unapologetic.

“I know. But a bit of caution wouldn’t kill you.” Ghost narrowed his eyes, holding firm. Normally, you’d relish the back-and-forth, but the weight of exhaustion from skirting death kept you quiet this time.

“Think I’ll catch a little more shut-eye before getting thrown back into the fire.” you muttered, gesturing toward the door. “If you’d kindly leave, gentlemen.”

They exchanged a look, hesitating for a moment before nodding and stepping out. Weirdos.

As the door shut behind them, you let out a relieved sigh. The tension in the room had felt suffocating, like a collar around your neck with the way those two had stared down at you. It was terrifying, to say the least.

You stared up at the ceiling for a few minutes, deciding that thinking too much about it would only add to your headache. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, letting yourself drift back to sleep.

☕︎︎

“How were they?” The moment Ghost and Price left the room, they were bombarded by the two sergeants waiting outside.

“Were they breathing okay?” “Is their pain under control? Do they need more meds?” “Were they able to talk? Were they coherent?”

“They're fine.” Price raised a hand, silencing them both immediately. “Just very tired. They needs rest.”

“You will not disturb them. Give them space and time.” Ghost ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. Soap and Gaz looked ready to protest, but he cut them off.

“They're exhausted. They need rest, and we’re going to give them all the time they wants to heal. Fussing over them now will only stress them out.”

Ghost’s stern logic shut down any further protests, leaving both of them nodding reluctantly.

“What can we do for them in the meantime?” Soap’s voice was laced with desperation. He hated just standing around and waiting—it was never his strong suit. Patience was possible, but only up to a point, and right now, he was far too agitated to have an ounce of patience in him.

“We’ll give them all the time they need, Johnny. That’s all we can do until they walks out of those doors,” Ghost replied.

“That’ll be easy enough. We’ve gotten away with worse than a bit of extra time to rest.” Kyle shrugged, a knowing smirk on his face. It wasn’t exactly a secret that special forces sometimes received certain privileges, and a little bending of the rules came with the territory.

“I’ll head to the kitchens and cook something up for our birdie.” Gaz grinned, clearly proud of his idea. “They'll feel better with something warm and savory in their stomach.” Gaz was probably the only decent cook in the 141.

John hadn’t set foot in a kitchen in ages. Simon could cook, but the man had no sense of seasoning; whatever he made would end up either too bland or overwhelmingly spicy. And Johnny? He’d either blow up the kitchen or whip up some abomination that was more science experiment than food.

“I can help!” Soap perked up, only to have Ghost pinch the back of his neck in warning. “We don’t need a burnt-down kitchen, Johnny. We have enough people in the med bay as it is.”

Ghost nearly laughed at Soap’s sulking expression. “Come on, you can help me with paperwork instead.” Soap’s face turned from sulking to horrified as Ghost steered him off to work.

Price chuckled and shook his head before heading to his own office to file some papers. He’d have to talk to Laswell about the extended rest period as well. She’d likely be the easiest to convince, considering how much she cared about you.

The 141 will take good care of you from now on, don't worry.

[frostbitebakery]

filled prompts for @codywansleepbingo :D we got: spooning, deep sleeper, insomnia! nothing particularly to warn for, though this is set sometime in the HEA phase of I Got My Head Checked, the Sithywan AU. Rest of the ficlet and bingo card under the cut!

Soft Sick Underbelly

“Major or long-lasting stress can lead to chronic insomnia.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Obi-Wan mutters to himself.

It has been… a while since sleep turned away from him in such a snit. He’s not unfamiliar with insomnia. For a long time he had been too afraid to sleep, catching naps here and there during his training—

“Abuse,” Cody would correct him.

His unconventional youth.

Sleep was for doomed prey until he was shaped enough into a predator to grab the luxury and take advantage of it. To take and take until the sleep deprivation was a fond, silly memory of the weak.

To sleep soundly, arrogantly, next to an enemy until the blaster was pressed against his forehead like birdsong. Nothing to concern himself with because he was made to be just that good.

Cody, Obi-Wan mourns to think of their first morning, isn’t anything special in that regard. What made him special, and continues to do so, is that Obi-Wan came back into his arms to sleep, to rest, over and over.

With Cody, he could wake up slow and unafraid. How Cody manages the same is a mystery to Obi-Wan still, on some days. Possibly the insomnia talking him into the spiral of fear, hate…

He doesn’t bother to remember what came after hate in Qui-Gon’s little speech. Cody said it was something to do with toasters.

Cody isn’t naïve. Perhaps he’s still lacking a bit of life experience, down to the few years he’s existed and how, but he’s not going into situations without a plan. Admittedly, he had lost his sight for a tiny bit there when Obi-Wan slithered into his life like the snake he was. Nevermind that it all had backfired on Obi-Wan rather spectacularly, the blind spot for himself Obi-Wan had started to cultivate in Cody had turned out to be mutually beneficial.

Obi-Wan snorts to himself and goes back to reading treatments for insomnia in hopes the irony alone will put him to sleep.

The small data pad is balanced on Cody’s upper arm in front of him, angled away so no light shines into Cody’s face. Obi-Wan is nothing but courteous.

Cody is a deep sleeper, here. In their space, their home, with Obi-Wan. Endearing and humbling. Not naïve. Not even with his back, his neck, to Obi-Wan like a lamb.

It’s trust like a soldier shows. Endearing and humbling, indeed.

Obi-Wan desperately wants to hold his hand, suddenly. The urge rising in his chest. The back of his fingers brush over Cody in substitute, careful not to disturb.

Cody wakes up anyway.

Slow for a minute, then all at once with a jaw-breaking yawn. One of his hands flaps over and behind him, and Obi-Wan offers his own. Like Cody knows.

His hand is guided around Cody, cradled into his chest.

“Bad night?” Cody asks in a murmur.

Obi-Wan fits himself closer into Cody’s warmth, not exactly hiding from the world.

Sleepy eyes turn to him. “Still blue.”

He feels his eyes are blue but it’s a relief to have the confirmation. Sometimes he can’t tell the difference, insides feeling breakable and rotten.

Cody shuffles back into him, a barrier between Obi-Wan and everything else that is not in his head only.

The early morning sun shines on the windows, sneaks through the glass, and plays with Cody’s skin. It's mesmerizing. Charming, in its own way.

The tiredness, the pulling at his eyelids and thoughts, is sudden and unwelcome. It’s morning. They should get up. Routine is good for both of them, after everything. A bit of predictability to stabilize them. They still get up to too many fun adventures. They're somewhat the personified headache of the Jedi Order, especially after their vacation. But this is home. Home is where the masks fall.

Cody latches onto more of his arm, lays his cheek into Obi-Wan's palm. “I’m awake now. Do you want to sleep?”

“Keeping watch for me?” Obi-Wan teases and his wrist is kissed.

“If you want.”

He sighs into Cody’s neck. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Never.”

Obi-Wan closes his eyes. Inserts the details into himself, of Cody watching over him like Obi-Wan watches in return. The light behind his eyelids, no suffocating darkness. Cody's stubble scratching over callouses.

Sleep doesn't come immediately. It takes its time. But eventually it's there, welcomes him like Cody's warmth.

[aewinty]

The way you heal me

Wednesday Addams x fem reader

Playlist

Part 1

You stormed out of Wednesday and Enid’s dorm, footsteps leaving a trail of desolation in his wake. If your tears weren’t flowing before, they definitely were now. You swung open the door to your dorm, quietly hoping your room safe wasn’t around to see you in your current state. Your request was fulfilled as she was nowhere in sight.

Flinging yourself on your bed was a bad idea - Wednesday’s scent still lingered on the sheets from the night before; a thought that urged more tears to spill. A quiet knock resounded from the door; one in which you ignored. If they really needed you they could send you a voice message on your phone. But they never left - the knocks persisted as you attempted to block out the noise with music in the background.

Grumbling, you stood up and pulled the door open to reveal Enid Sinclair. She gave you a look of pity when she saw your disheveled state before asking “can I come in?”. Wordlessly nodding, you opened the door a bit wider so she could slip in. You sat back down at your bed, hearing the door click before the soft padding of socks came towards you. You were grateful Enid sat right next to you as you opted to lean your head on her shoulder.

A couple of deafening minutes passed before Enid spoke up “Sooo.. what happened back there?”.

She could feel you physically stiffen before groaning. You picked at the skin near your fingernails, not feeling the need to answer her question at the moment.

“You don’t have to tell me Y/n; whatever you feel comfortable with saying is fine.”

You stayed quiet for a bit before speaking up, voice rasping as you did so. “I was just trying to get her to take a break Enid.”

“I understand that Y/n; Wednesday can always be a little stubborn.”

“She said it like I was pathetic for caring about her health.”You spat out the word while grimacing.

Enid sighed, grabbing your arm to make you look at her. “Listen, Wednesday doesn’t think you’re pathetic and you should be the first person to know so. I’ve seen the way she looks at you - like you’re the star of the world. So, instead of subjecting yourself to these deteriorating thoughts, how about we talk about how she shows she loves you?”

You seemed to contemplate her idea prior to obliging.

“She does this thing when I’m upset with something - like she kisses my ring finger to comfort me I don’t know how to explain”

“Great! So how does that make you feel?”

“Like I’m the only one she looks at” You say, cringing at your words.

“Because you are she only looks at you and when you enter, she stares at you like you’re the only one in the world. It’s kinda creepy to be honest..”

“Enid she also looks at you, Yoko and Bianca I’m not the only person she knows.”

“Okay but I swear she looks at you differently like I’m being real here she looks at everyone else the same but with you it’s not the same. And you’re her girlfriend for crying out loud!”

You chuckle a bit before frowning right after. “Then why did she..”

“Y/n it could be from the stress, the pressure, or even in the spur of the moment! I don’t know, but I definitely know that she didn’t mean it. Wednesday would never say that without a reason. She even tells me you’re the love of her life; the one that keeps her going. But enough of that - how else do you know she loves you?

“Well she also calls me Y/n/n but don’t tell her cause she will get mad..”

The night was full of laughter with a few breakdowns before turning right back up with the faint music playing from the disc in your room.

—

When you woke up Enid was nowhere to be found. You laid in bed, staring at the ceiling for a few solid minutes bracing yourself for the pounding headache you had.

Not feeling up for classes, you sent your friends a quick text telling them to tell the teacher that you would be absent. Finding yourself unable to lull yourself back to sleep, you settled for a cup of coffee and a random romcom you and Wednesday would never live in.

—

Wednesday’s book thudded on the table while she sat down in her seat beside Xavier.

“What has you so worked up??” He said while staring at Wednesday.

“Nothing that concerns you.” Wednesday responded, eyes never peeling from the door.

“Erm..okay” he said, diverting his attention away.

Wednesday’s eyes stared at the door in hopes of you to turn up.

Yoko came in

Then Bianca

Then Enid

Then Ms. Thornhill

Maybe you were just late? She thought

But you never showed up - you didn’t even attend your club with Eugene where you two would crack random bee jokes.

“Where’s Y/n?” Wednesday asked Enid.

“Probably at her dorm sobbing her eyes out because of something YOU blew up at her for.” Enid snapped at her

“I didn’t mean to hurt her”

“I had to stay with her all night while she cried her eyes out thinking you hated her for caring about you.”

Wednesday paused for a moment. “Is she okay?” She asked in an unusually quiet voice.

“I don’t know Wednesday you should ask her not me. Look, I know you don’t hate her but you have to apologize because right now she fully believed you loath her so you have to clear that up with Y/n - not me.”

Wednesday gave Enid a silent nod before pulling on her shoes to rush towards your dorm.

—

Your roommate shot Wednesday a weird glance when she entered your dorm room. “What are you doing here?”

With a quick glance, Wednesday could tell you weren’t there so she had no choice but to converse with your roommate. “Do you know where Y/n is?”

“Umm can you tell me why you are here first?”

“No.”

“Then no I don’t know where Y/n is.”

“Tell me”

“No.”

“Okay. Fine. I need to apologize to her for something.”

“THE Wednesday Addams apologizing? Never would’ve guessed.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes before asking “Can you tell me where she is now?”

“She’s right there” Your roommate said while pointing at the door Wednesday came in a few seconds prior.

Sure enough, you were standing there, eyes narrowed at Wednesday.

“Hey..?” You said slowly setting your drink down on your desk. You shot your roommate a look telling her to get out, which she did at that.

Wednesday watched you sit down at your bed, eyes staring intently at you.

“So..” You started

“I would like to apologize.”

“Oh.”

“I apologize. Can you forgive me?”

Knowing Wednesday had trouble expressing her emotions, you pushed on.

“Can you tell me why you’re apologizing?”

“I apologize for implying you were a burden to me.”

“And?”

“And I apologize for spouting that you weren’t able to assist me. I understand you care for my mental stability and insinuating that you would oppress me in the future was discourteous. Although I previously inferred you wouldn’t be a big presence in my future, I would like to retract those words. These past few hours have been displeasing without you - something I would normally crave for, but without you, that feeling is nothing to me.”

“Do you know how that made me feel?”

Wednesday grimaced. “It made you feel unhappy.”

“Not only did it make me feel unhappy Wednesday. It made me feel inferior. I understand that the Hyde case puts a lot of pressure on you but you can’t take that out on me. I’m similar to you. I get frustrated. I get stressed, but I don’t take it out on other people especially you. In the future, if you are uncomfortable with what I’m doing, you can just tell me and I will stop. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable with me.”

“It’s not that you made me uncomfortable. I presume the stress buildup caused me to lose my temper. For that, I apologize.”

“Wednesday you don’t have to apologize. Feeling stress is normal and you unconsciously get it. I understand that you didn’t know how to relieve it.”

Wednesday just gave you a ridged nod at that.

“Wednesday come here.”

She strides towards you until she stood in-front of you. You pulled her down into an embrace. Wednesday’s hands hung stiffly around your torso but not quite touching it. You chuckled at that.

“You know you can touch me I’m your girlfriend.”

At that, her hands rested at your waist. Your head buried itself into her neck, leaving a chaste kiss on the skin there. You pulled back, hands still intertwined behind her neck.

“I love you. Do you know that?”

“Yes.”

You pulled her chin towards you, giving her a quick peck on her lips.

“Say it back Wends”

“I love you too.” Wednesday muttered, pale cheeks growing into a dark red color.

You smiled, pulling her back into a heart searing kiss, sealing the emotions drawn from today behind you as a memory of strengthening your relationship.

A/n

Woo part two to The way you hurt me!! How did you like it?? Honestly idk if I do the comforting//apologizing part correctly/well bc I’m not really good with apologizing either. I also hope I portrayed each character accurately

If there are any mistakes in my writing please msg me or cmt it down - this is not reread at all

Always happy for constructive criticism!

Again thank you for reading and thank you for the notes on my last post!

[trendywaifus]

I've been dealing with the worst headaches ever for the past few weeks (the garbo ones that make you throw up)

And I also have been mildly irked by the lack of Marcher x Fem!Reader fics, so

🙏I wanna request March 7th comfort fic.

I feel like she's not very popular because she's a silly bonky-wonky loudmouth that just says what's on her mind rather than being all domineering and mysterious (like how Kafka, or Arlecchino might be portrayed), or hiding it because they don't want to stress you out (like how Robin might).

So anyways, I was curious how March comforts Fem!Reader after like, a really awful day.

It can be SFW, or not.

Hope you have a good day, Trendy :>

nah i made this a little different just for you and your stupid headaches! they suck ass! I’ve been having those type of headaches for the past weeks too. and march is underrated, I prefer to date her than kafka and the others cus at least she’s an open book😭. I hope your weeks been getting better, bud.

despite being in space, it feels like you’ve stayed in your cabin all morning. a pained groan rumbles in your throat as you turn in bed, series of sharp pains bouncing off the walls of your skull. you feel terrible, absolutely terrible. waking up with a migraine and not being able to get out of bed to even go to the bathroom sucks. everyone is probably at the dining hall eating breakfast. you let in a deep breath then exhale, mustering the mental strength to lift your aching head from the feathery pillow. “ up we go—ow ow. . “ as soon as you sat up, you dropped back down in pain. your stomach churns as defeat kicks in.

“ damn, should i text march to come and bring me a bottled water and pain pills? hopefully she’s on her way here since i’m missing breakfast. “

luckily your speculation was right as your cabin door slides open and your girlfriend strolls in. her gaze immediately locks onto you laying down on the bed. “ babe, you’re still sleeping? everyone’s waiting, come eat! “

you groan and march’s brows raise with concern. “ march. .headache. . “ you mutter, looking at her with pleading eyes. she gives you a sympathy look as she walks over to your bed and sits on your bedside. “ aww, sweetie, “ her digits brush the hair away from your eyes, “ do you need me to get you some pain pills? i’ll bring your plate to you too. “ you smile at her, grasping her wrist and softly squeezed.

“ please. but can i lay on your chest while you massage my head first? you’re great with massages so let’s see if you can help me. “

she looks a little hesitant but she nods with a smile. “ i don’t know if this is a poor excuse to cuddle me or not but okay. only for a little though! i gotta get you some pain pills and breakfast because i hate how exhausted you look right now. now scoot scoot. “

you give her as much space as you can without triggering a sharp pain in your head. she slides in bed and the soft scent of cherry perfume wafts against your nose. “ c’mere you. “ march helps you move on top of her and settle. you nuzzle into her chest while she loops an arm around your waist and starts getting to work with massaging your head. her manicured fingers gingerly graze your scalp, almost instantly sending warm shivers up your spine. “ i’m so lucky that you’re my girl. “ you mutter into her shirt, closing your eyes to the soothing sensation of her head massage.

you hear her playfully huff, “ sweetie that’s sweet n’ all but, but i’m worried that this won’t work. i’m not exactly a miracle worker, y’know. “

“ hm, you are to me, “ you mutter, the aches are of course still there, but you like to believe that your girlfriend’s fingers are helping you relax. “ even if you don’t think so, marchie. “

what you don’t see is her warm smile and dusty pink cheeks. what you do feel is her smiling lips planting a tender kiss against your temple.