#and I’m just over feeling so weak and drained

[thisperfectmonsoon]

ugh.

[shawtuzi]

this video got me thinking….its kinda giving choso so walk with me real quick besties

˚ʚ♡ɞ

“fuckkkk,” the back of choso’s head knocked against the headboard, his chest heaving with a thin sheen of sweat covering it. the poor boy couldn’t form a single thought—the only thing swirling around in his empty mind is that he needed more.

his breath hitched when he felt your tongue wrap around his nipple once more, flicking the sensitive bud with your tongue. you didn’t bother saying much to him, it’d be pointless being the only word he could respond with was a breathy ‘fuck’.

“i’m ’bout to—hmph! nut again, it’s coming baby,” his head lolled onto his shoulder, his hips now bucking up to create a rhythm with your hand. you hummed around his nipple, squeezing his angry red tip, the clear pearls of precum leaking from his tip had you dying for a taste. “be louder…w’nna hear you cho,” you whispered in his ear, licking at the shell of it.

choso shuddered rather violently at the feeling, but nonetheless he got louder for you—a tad bit louder than you had expected. choso’s mouth dropped opened, a symphony of whiny moans following right after.

if he had any energy he’d fuck your fist himself, but alas after 3 consecutive orgasms all he could do was pathetically roll his hips. “so fuckin’ close, cmon baby make me cum,” choso nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt your soft hands begin to play his balls, squeezing them ever so softly.

choso’s entire body went limp as his orgasm hit, moan after pornographic moan spilling past his kiss bitten lips. the first shot of cum landed on his chest, some getting on his chin, which you greedily licked at a second later. his thighs shook in overstimulation, nearly closing because now it was really starting to become too much.

“baby baby baby wait—hah! you’re gonna f-fuckin’ kill me,” his larger hand wrapped weakly around your wrist, but it stopped nothing. you kissed you way up his chest to his neck, sloppily kissing, licking, and sucking any bit you could get. he just smelled so good—like vanilla and cinnamon, you just wanted to eat him up.

you brushed his hair out his face with your free hand. you looked into his tired, yet oh so lustful eyes, “you good?” you asked, halting your hand’s movements. choso sniffled and gave you a weak nod, “want you to drain me dry angel, even if i start crying.” it’s funny because just as choso finished his sentence a stray tear slipped from his eye, landing on his already messy abdomen.

choso stuck out his tongue making you giggle. you knew exactly what he wanted. you leant over, wasting no time shoving your tongue in his mouth, swallowing up his whiny moans. you resumed your hand’s movements, squealing when you felt choso’s teeth sink into your bottom lip.

he truly didn’t know if he had another orgasm in him but he didn’t care, even if he blacked out. why do you ask?? because soon he’ll be receiving the best aftercare known to man. cuddles, kisses, BACK SCRATCHES!!! he was as content as could be.

[chocum]

COMING DOWN !

— bunched up, sweet little whimpers, he always gets so sensitive under your touch feat. choso kamo

WARNINGS. femreader (she/her) x goodguy!cho :3 mentions of violence/death, sub cho, dom reader, overstimulation, begging, blowjob, premature ejaculation ;( crying + 1.2k wc note. i’m so insane abt choso it’s actually scary, he’s all i think about. tysm for all the support on my first post. love u all! feedback + reblogs are appreciated! also art by @/swag_yay on x. ty again & enjoyyy ᡣ𐭩

choso hated missions with a passion that pierced his very soul.

his cursed energy manipulation and combat skills are unrivaled, making him crucial to a mission’s success, but the relentless nature of them drained him beyond words— both mentally and physically.

they feel so repetitive: eliminate curses, protect civilians, prevent damage. eliminate curses, eliminate curses, eliminate.

he has always been driven by a deep desire to protect everyone he could, especially those who were unable to do so themselves, but the constant cycle of violence and death confused him—wrestling with self-doubt, doing mental gymnastics, trying to justify his actions. the cognitive strain became a heavy burden that compounded during missions, further exhausting him like heavy buckets of water dousing an already flickering flame.

and after meeting you — his sweet, sweet girl — his hatred for missions only grew.

the ache of missing you constantly gnawed at him. your homey scent. your taste still fresh on his tongue, preventing him from concentrating because, in his mind, he’s still tangled in your sheets, stealing sweet kisses that linger on his lips long after they’ve left yours.

when out scouting, he would catch glimpses of couples hand in hand in the streets sporting deep smiles, making his stomach twist— his brows pinching together, deepening the ridge between them.

his sole solace was the thought of returning home to his pretty girl once everything was over— it pushes him to keep going, to keep fighting, even avoiding shoko because he preferred your clumsy little hands to patch him up.

finally done with his latest three-week mission — a seeming eternity away from you — he was being driven to your place, to you, home.

head lolling back against the car seat, he spreads his legs wider, rolling his hips to adjust himself, before sinking, letting the leather seat swallow him whole. he tilts his head to the side, deep purple irises flickering, to watch the familiar scenery— large leafy trees crowding the darkening highway under evening skies.

after he waved his goodbyes, giving thanks to his driver, he stumbled up to the door, his fingers fumbling awkwardly with the keys underneath the dim light of the porch. on the other side, the distinct sound of the lock clicking open causes you to bolt up, rushing to greet him.

he pushes it open and there you are. looking up at him with that big smile he adores so much lighting your face— pretty eyes sparkling with relief. you squeal and fling your arms around him without hesitation and he does the same, burying his face into the side of your neck, feeling your hair brush against him, inhaling deeply.

you always smelled so good— a blend of your natural scent and hints of vanilla from your body wash. he’s been craving that scent for so long, growing dizzy now that it finally embraces him, his body falling limp, so weak in your smaller arms.

you pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, fingers gently tracing the smooth lines on his face— lines that seemed deeper since you’d last seen him.

“i missed you so much” you hummed faintly as he cupped your face, nuzzling your warm cheeks against his rough hands.

“i missed you so much more”

he leaned down to find your lips. they felt so much softer than he remembered. kissing you deeply, his calloused hand cradling the back of your neck, drawing you closer into the warmth of his embrace.

and when you moan against him— oh, it sounds so sweet, the blood rushing to his cock so quickly. next thing he knows, he’s rutting against your thigh, pressing against you so, so desperately, almost mounting you.

“what’s wrong cho?” a soft whine escapes him at the sudden loss of contact, “tell me, baby, use your words”

“i’m sorry,” he breathes, a pretty blush crawling up his neck, “just missed you so much— got excited”

“i know, my pretty boy, but ‘m here now, okay? let me take care of you. i know you missed it.” you take his hand, drawing him to your room as he follows obediently, shutting the door behind him, “did you touch yourself without me?”

he shakes his head, his fluffy hair cascading down to rest on his shoulders. “you .. you told me not no”

“good boy”

you push against his shoulders, gently guiding him to sit on the bed, his breath hitching so sweetly watching you lift yourself to straddle his waist. connecting your lips once more, hips grinding against him so slowly— rocking back and forth. his mouth now tinted pink and tenderly swollen from your ardent kisses, you move down to his neck planting a trail of light ones along the sensitive skin, each touch eliciting subtle little quivers and soft exhales. his fists bunch up the sheets, he—

“sorrysorrysorry” he babbles breathlessly— endlessly, his pants turning damp, material darkening as his cock twitches and pulses so cutely, cum drooling out his sensitive slit, “just feel so good against me. been so long. couldn’t even touch myself when you sent those pictures. it’s so sensitive”

“shhhh ‘s okay, cho.” a finger pressed against his pout— pushing its way in for him to suckle on warmly before you slide down to your knees. trailing your hands down his thighs, tugging on the hem of his pants, “i’ll clean you up”

he’s still so hard— his tip blushing, crying white cream, and when you take him in your hands, his hips jerk up for you— body still coming down from his high and you’re already taking him in your mouth, cruelly, licking fat stripes up his twitchy length.

“fuck ‘s too much baby, i just- wai, wait, please.” he’s pawing at you, pushing against your head, but he sounds too cute, crying and whimpering around you for you to stop— looks too cute with the prettiest pink blush shrouding his body from the tips of his heated ears to his curled toes.

you gargle and gag around his cock— exaggerating the sounds because you know it drives him insane. he loves when you get so nasty and messy for him, foamy spit bubbling around where his cock plugs your mouth up. your hands move to cup his warm balls, caressing and squeezing gently, coaxing him to cum for you again.

“ah f- baby, i’m so fucking— please. wanna cum for— you. gonna be so good, gonna—”

he cums salty, thick stripes straight down your warm throat with a whine so pretty you wish it was recorded so you could play it over and over and over.

and he’s crying— it’s too much, feels too good — sweetly hiccuping, sniffing as he hides his face behind his hands. such a pretty boy. he’s growing limp in your mouth and you pull off with a whine before kissing up his shaky legs.

“did so good for me, cho, missed having you like this” lightly moving his hands to pet at his damp cheeks, watching keenly how he leans into your touch, wiping pretty doll-like tears with your thumbs.

knowing that he has you to take such good care of him once he’s home will forever ease his mind while he’s away, a comforting thought that lingers like a soft embrace, even in your absence.

[pathologicalreid]

heart to heart | s.r.

in which hotchner!reader is set to have heart surgery, and Spencer can't help but be concerned for her

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x hotchner!reader category: angst content warnings: fem!reader, chronically ill!reader, spencer is anxious, inadvertently made jack hotchner a glass child, hospitals, medications, surgery, heart transplant, hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, mostly medically accurate, rejected proposals, spencer's pov, mentions death and dying and wills, howl's moving castle word count: 2.51k a/n: this might be my favorite margotober post of the week. i don't know. it's very introspective. twas a request!

Ironically, his heart was racing. Spencer made his way through the cardiac unit with nothing but his imagination to guide him. He had just left the building a few hours ago when you insisted that he sleep in a real bed, and now he was back.

Your dad hadn’t told him what was going on, he just told him to get to the hospital. It was an hour’s drive from his place in D.C. to Johns Hopkins in Baltimore—you could already be dead by now.

He didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye to you. Not a real, proper goodbye. He told you he’d come back in the morning, which felt ridiculous now.

The sterile fluorescence of the intensive care unit only added to his irritability as he washed his hands upon entry, the CVICU had been your home for the past two months, and in a way, it had become Spencer’s as well. He couldn’t be shocked, you’d been in heart failure for nearly two years, and there was no way he could ignore the worried glances between your doctors and nurses.

You slept more than you were awake most days, Spencer and your dad took turns staying behind on cases, and you usually didn’t have the energy to hold a conversation.

That’s why he’s so surprised to see you sitting up in bed with a cap over your hair, talking to your cardiologist. You looked drained, dark circles gave your eyes a haunted look, but Spencer’s chest filled with relief at the fact that you were still very much alive. “Hey,” Spencer said, looking around the room for even the slightest clue as to what was going on.

Sluggishly, your head turned to look at him, “Hey,” you said back, a weak smile on your face.

He wanted to tell you to lie down, sitting up was obviously draining you of what little energy you had, but more than that, he wanted you to tell him what was going on—he couldn’t guess, he couldn’t bear to be wrong. “What is it? What happened?” His questions were frantic, your father had never called him in the middle of the night like this.

“I’m getting a heart, Spence,” you told him, your voice was gentle.

So, the sky wasn’t falling. The feeling of impending doom that he’s had for the last two years was potentially going to be lifted away, “When?” He asked, stepping further into the room and setting his bag in the chair, crossing his arms as he joined the conversation between you and your doctor.

You took a deep breath, in through your nose and out through your mouth, “Tonight.”

He needed to sit down.

“We’re just waiting on some final pre-op labs,” your doctor confirmed, nodding at the both of you. “It’s a good match,” he assured Spencer, “I’ll let you two talk.”

As soon as you were alone, Spencer guided you down to the pillows. Too weak to resist, you leaned back until your shoulders hit the pillows, “Where’s Hotch?”

You hummed in response, “Jack freaked out when we told him I was getting a new heart, dad’s with him until our aunt gets here.”

“He’s worried about you,” he observed, sometimes it was hard to put the age difference between you and your brother into perspective, but at times like this, he remembered just how young Jack really was.

Clearing your throat, you shook your head once, “He’s scared that my new heart won’t love him the same.”

Spencer nodded in understanding, ��So, what did you tell him?”

You smiled softly, “I told him it was like in Howl’s Moving Castle.” Pausing for a moment to catch your breath, Spencer took your hand in his, “They’re not taking my love away, I’ll be able to love him even more with a new heart.”

“So, now he thinks your heart is on fire,” Spencer pointed out, tucking a stray hair underneath your cap.

Sighing, you shut your eyes for a moment, “Sometimes it feels like it.”

His chest tightened in sympathy while watching you try to catch your breath, vaguely aware that this was the last night that tonight would be like this, “Are you scared?” It seemed like a foolish question to ask, knowing that you’d had more procedures than most people your age, but this was a big one. This was the big one.

You nodded gently, there were so many things to be scared of, surgical complications, transplant rejection, but you looked at Spencer with pity in your eyes. You were pitying him, “My will is in the top drawer of my nightstand,” you started.

“No,” Spencer interjected, denial creeping up on him.

You sighed, it took everything in you to hold back your tears, “Spence, we have to talk about this.”

He shook his head, “No, we don’t. You’re going to be fine.”

“I need you to be rational,” you pleaded. The irony of the situation was not lost on him, you were begging him to think rationally as refusal crept over him. “You know the statistics. In fact, you probably know them better than me,” you said pointedly.

He sniffled, “You have good odds,” he insisted. “Even if you didn’t have good chances, you’ve always been good at beating the odds,” he reminded you. The two of you had said goodbye before, a nasty battle with bacterial endocarditis had put you in a coma, but you had come out of it, sending you even higher on the UNOS transplant list.

Issues with your kidneys had knocked you out of the running for some hearts, so your only hope was a direct donation. It seemed like you were getting your wish. “My heart won’t be as big,” you murmured, not having the energy to debate Spencer on probability.

“No,” he affirmed, “It’ll be a bit smaller.” Your heart muscle was thick as a result of your cardiomyopathy, and your pacemaker wasn’t able to keep up with your deteriorating health. A transplant became your only hope.

You sighed contentedly, “You always made me feel so lucky.”

“Stop trying to say goodbye,” he told you, tilting his head to the side.

Nodding, he could tell that you understood him, “You’ll never get rid of me, I’ll come back and haunt you.”

Spencer shook his head dismissively, “No dying, sweet girl. We’ve got to take care of your new heart.”

A peaceful silence blanketed the two of you, sitting and waiting for someone to tell him it was time to go. He didn’t want to go. He’d go with you to the operating room if they’d let him.

He said goodbye to you in the hallway, watching you get wheeled away before shoving his hands in his pockets and walking to the waiting room, stopping in his tracks at the sight before him.

A majority of the BAU had gathered in the waiting room, taking up all of the chairs on the right-hand side, settling in for the long haul. “Hey,” JJ was the first one to speak, giving Spencer a quick embrace before stepping back, “How was she?”

“She’s good,” he answered absentmindedly, still looking around the room, a few familiar faces nowhere to be found. “She was tired,” and a bit morbid toward the end.

Jack was curled up on one of the loveseats, a blanket tucked over him. Spencer continued looking around, confusion settling in until Emily spoke up, “He’s in the chapel. Rossi and Morgan are with him.”

Hotch was in the chapel, likely lighting a candle for Haley while Rossi and Morgan said a prayer for you. Oddly enough, it brought Spencer comfort to know that his friends were pulling for you in the ways they knew how, especially when he didn’t believe in it himself.

Spencer looked at the bracelet that you had placed in his hands, it was one of your most prized possessions, and should something happen to you, he was under strict instructions to hand it over to your father.

You were still a teenager when you were first diagnosed, and you were scared of having a big scar from open heart surgery, so your mom went out and bought you a charm bracelet. For each procedure after, you’d gotten a new charm for the bracelet with Hotch continuing the tradition after your mother had passed away.

There was no doubt in his mind that there would be a special charm for this surgery, Hotch usually had Penelope and JJ help him pick it out.

Penelope walked in, handing Spencer a cup of coffee. The average heart transplant takes six hours, but you have so much scar tissue that he wouldn’t be surprised if it took longer than that.

You were two years younger than him, and he found himself enamored with you from the moment you met. Your disease had forced you to leave college early, but your dad had set you up with a job in records at Quantico, both to give you something to do and to keep you nearby.

Until you just kept getting sicker, you were the best person they had working in records, but eventually, you had to leave that too.

The rest of the team caught on to Spencer’s crush, but you found yourself avoiding him like the plague. You turned him down eight times before you finally acquiesced, come to find out the only reason you said yes is because Hotch pushed you in that direction. Of all people, your father had just wanted you to continue living your life—he didn’t want you to become a hermit.

You would be one now though, with all of the immunosuppressants you’d be on post-transplant, you’d be spending a lot of time at home.

Rejection became a trend in your relationship when Spencer proposed to you last year. He’d done it properly, asking your father and Jack for permission, but you’d said no, rattling off some excuse about how he shouldn’t shackle himself to someone with one foot in the grave.

That night, after you had all but broken up with him, you’d collapsed and ended up in the hospital. The two of you made a promise to each other. If you ever got a new heart, you’d finally say yes.

The promise had been your idea, claiming that karma had caused you to collapse in your apartment because you turned him down. Spencer didn’t believe in karma and fate the way you did, but he did believe in you. That was enough for him.

Hotch came back up first, setting a comforting hand on Spencer’s shoulder before he walked back to where Jack was sleeping, your Aunt Jessica was back there with the two of them.

They hit the two-hour mark with no update, and Spencer convinced himself that no news had to be good news.

Derek and Rossi had made their way up to the waiting room, pulling out a deck of cards from the hospital gift shop and dealing around the table. Spencer just watched, he’d played more than enough card games in this hospital before, and he’d likely be playing many more in the future.

You’d have to stay in the hospital post-transplant for approximately a month, but it was some comfort to Spencer that instead of your health declining, you would begin feeling better. It hurt to hope, but he found himself excited at the prospect of you regaining your strength.

By the time five hours had passed, JJ and Derek had fallen asleep in their chairs, but everyone had committed themselves to waiting for you.

Spencer wanted to take you home, settle you into your shared apartment together, and let you heal, but you weren’t going to come home with him. When your month in the hospital was up, you’d go home with your dad and Jack. Your apartment didn’t have an elevator, and he worried about you having to use the stairs all the time. Your dad’s apartment had an elevator, so it became the obvious choice.

You told him you didn’t even remember what home looked like anymore. He couldn’t wait to bring you home.

He’d started to worry after six hours had passed, but just before hour seven hit, your cardiothoracic surgeon came out to the waiting room.

Careful not to wake Jack, Hotch stood up from his chair, approaching the surgeon with a wariness that Spencer had never seen from him. He waved Spencer over, silently inviting him to join the conversation.

“Everything went well, she’ll be in the CVICU still for a few days before she’s strong enough to be transferred,” the doctor explained, garnering the attention of some of the other people in the room. “Visiting hours don’t start for a few hours, but if one of you wants to stay with her until she wakes up, then I’d be willing to arrange an exception.”

You’d be waking up in a bright room with a tube in your throat, and having someone that you knew with you when you woke up would hopefully ease some of your fears. As soon as Spencer was about to offer to keep an eye on Jack so Hotch could sit with you, Hotch interrupted his train of thought, “You should go.”

Spencer frowned, glancing over your father, “Are you sure?”

Nodding, Hotch looked back at Jack, still sleeping on the loveseat. “I need to stay with him, and she wouldn’t want him to see her first thing,” he explained.

If Jack’s fear from earlier was any kind of forewarning, Hotch probably had a point when it came to wanting to stay with his youngest. Even still, Spencer protested, “I can stay with Jack.”

There were a number of people in the room who could stay with Jack, but Hotch clearly wanted to stay, “Don’t keep my daughter waiting, Reid.”

He did not have to be told twice, turning around and following the doctor to your room, scrubbing his hands before approaching the door. Faltering slightly at the doorway, Spencer found himself staring at you. There were so many wires and tubes connected to you that he’d have to take his time doing inventory of them all, there was a tube breathing for you, but your heart—your heart was beating steady.

“You can take a seat here,” a nurse said, gesturing to a chair for him to use. He sat down obediently, setting his bag on the ground next to him.

You wouldn’t come out from under the anesthesia for hours yet, but Spencer found comfort in knowing that he’d be here for you when you woke up. He could let you squeeze your hand when you felt pain, and he’d be there to wipe your tears away. At this point, he’d do anything you asked of him.

For now, all he had to do was wait. He clasped your hand in both of his and sat at your bedside, a ring box burning a hole in his messenger bag—waiting for you to be ready for it.

[littleredwolf]

Hungry Eyes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: The team overhears Nat and Y/N's 'girl talk' through the comms and feelings surface as a result.

Warnings: Suggestive content. Sex references.

Words: 956

A/N: PART 2 CAN BE FOUND HERE

--

“Bucky's done nothing but undress you with his eyes since you walked in,” Natasha's husky voice came over your earpiece and your eyes snapped to the super soldier on the other side of the room, your cheeks reddening to find him already staring in your direction. 

You let your gaze casually pass over him, playing the brief moment of eye contact off as a coincidence as you scanned the room for the mission, but your heart was pounding and you were sure he could probably hear it. 

“Doubtful,” you scoffed, though you couldn't ignore the tingle that travelled up your spine at the thought of Bucky finding you attractive. You'd had the hots for him for months, but your fear of rejection strongly outweighed your desire to tell him so you'd kept your little secret to yourself…and Nat of course. 

“Stop living in denial, anybody with half a brain can see how he practically drools over you every time he sees you,” Nat argued, and you rolled your eyes as you continued to survey the room. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, it’s true.” 

“Stop watching me, you know it creeps me out when I can’t see you,” you hissed, eyes roaming the crowd in an attempt to spot the redhead. 

“If you could see me, I wouldn’t be very good at my job,” she teased, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes again. 

“Just hurry up and do your job, Romanoff - the quicker we finish and I can get out of this dress the better,” you stated, readjusting the silky garment that Natasha herself had picked out for you. It suited your cover well, but it was a little provocative for your usual tastes. 

“I’m sure Barnes would agree with you on that one…”

“As much as I’m enjoying watching Bucky squirm from this conversation, head’s up that this is an open channel,” Sam’s voice cutting in over the comms caused any reply you had prepared for Natasha to die on your tongue, the blood draining from your face as you turned to look at Bucky.  

The super soldier was no longer on his mark, but as you searched the crowd you caught a glimpse of him as he was making a swift exit. More than anything you wanted to follow him, to defuse the awkwardness and recover from the embarrassment of him overhearing Nat’s comments, but you stayed rooted to the spot, unable to leave your position. 

“Go,” Nat urged, as though sensing your inner turmoil. “Me and Sam have got this.”

A quick look towards Sam confirmed that he agreed, and you wasted no time in hurrying towards the same door Bucky had gone through moments ago. 

Surprisingly, he hadn’t gone very far, and you found him leaning against the wall in the foyer. Heat rushed to your cheeks as his eyes landed on you, and you smiled sheepishly as you approached.  

“Hey Buck,” you softly said as you reached him. “Sorry about what you heard back there - Nat was just teasing, she didn’t mean any of it.” 

“Didn’t she?” He asked, raising a single eyebrow. 

“What?” You frowned, unsure how to interpret his response. There was a way you wanted this to go, but you didn’t want to get your wires crossed and make even more of a fool of yourself. 

“You said she didn’t mean any of it, but how can you be sure?” 

He pushed himself off the wall and fixed you with an intense gaze, making your knees weak and your breath short. You didn’t dare look away - afraid that if you did, this moment would end. 

“I-uh…I don’t know what you’re getting at here, Buck…” you stammered, too dumbfounded to form a better response. You were very aware of how close the two of you were and the smell of his cologne and warmth emanating from his body was making your brain short circuit. 

“Then let me show you.”

There was no hesitation as he took your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours, and you melted into him with a whimper. The sound gave him the encouragement he was looking for and he spun you round so that he could press you up against the wall, moaning into your mouth as you raked your hands through his hair. 

Everything around you ceased to exist and all sense left you as you gave into your desires, the feeling of Bucky’s hands roaming your body setting your skin on fire. You couldn’t believe this was happening, you’d never even let yourself hope that Bucky might actually feel the same, yet here you were, making out with him while his sizable bulge pressed up against you. 

Had Sam not cleared his throat over the comms, you were sure you’d have let the super soldier take you right there and then, regardless of the fact that you were in public and on a mission.  

“Channel is still very much open, guys,” he informed, and Bucky’s eyes widened in horror as he pulled away. You giggled and gave him a quick peck on the lips. 

“I’m not even sorry,” you told Sam teasingly, straightening up and readjusting your dress. You were aware of Bucky’s eyes on you and you looked up to meet his hungry gaze. 

“I can’t wait to get that thing off you when we’re finished here,” he blurted, and you bit your lip as heat flooded your core. 

“Then we’d better hurry up and finish,” you replied, taking him by the hand and leading him back to the main room so that you could get the mission, and later on your clothes, out of the way. 

PART 2

[wadewnstonwilson]

need you close;

summary: when your busy schedule leaves logan feeling neglected, he craves your attention in his own way—by showing up with small, thoughtful gestures and lingering touches that hint at his pent-up need. despite his rugged exterior, logan’s vulnerability shines through as he tries to remind you he’s still there, waiting.

word count: 1k

a/n: okay so this was originally a headcanon idea but this was my most popular headcanon so I definitely wanted to post it as a one shot! always feel free to leave an ask if you guys want anymore logan themed headcanons or fics!

Logan wasn’t used to being ignored. Or at least, not by you. It had been weeks since you’d been swamped with work, and while you appreciated his support, you couldn’t help but feel the strain on your relationship. He’d never say it, not out loud at least, but Logan was needy, and he craved your attention like nothing else.

The soft scratch of a pen met your ears, but you didn’t even look up from your laptop. Logan stood by the counter, lazily scribbling something on a piece of paper. He’d been in and out of your office all day, never staying long but always making his presence known. His scent—musky, earthy, all Logan—lingered long after he’d leave. It used to comfort you, but now it only reminded you of the time you couldn’t give him.

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “Logan, I’m really busy.”

Without missing a beat, he crossed the room and placed a steaming cup of your favorite coffee on the desk. His fingers lingered, brushing against yours as he slid the cup toward you. You glanced up and caught the faintest smirk on his lips.

“Thought you could use a pick-me-up,” he grumbled, leaning in closer. His warm breath fanned over your cheek, and you could feel the tension melt from your muscles, despite how desperately you needed to focus. “Been workin’ too hard.”

“Thanks,” you muttered, trying to sound casual, but your voice betrayed you. The way his hands rested on your shoulders—rough yet tender—sent shivers down your spine. He started massaging the knots in your shoulders, his fingers kneading the tension from your overworked muscles. You hadn’t realized how much you missed this—missed him—until now.

“You need a break, darlin’,” Logan muttered, his voice low and rough, sending a familiar heat through your body. “Can’t have you burnin’ out on me.”

You chuckled, but the sound was weak. “I’ll take a break soon, I promise.”

Logan let out a soft grunt, clearly unsatisfied with your answer. But instead of arguing, he pulled back, leaving a small note on the corner of your desk before disappearing from the room. You picked it up, your heart softening at the sight of his messy handwriting: Missin’ you. Don’t forget to take a break.

For a moment, you considered following him. You could see the hurt in his eyes, the frustration simmering just beneath the surface. But you had deadlines to meet, work piling up faster than you could keep up with. You’d make it up to him later—at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

The next few days were more of the same. Logan was always around, but never directly demanding your attention. He’d leave notes scattered around your workspace—short, sweet messages like Thinkin’ ‘bout you or We’re overdue for some time together. He brought you food, sometimes your favorite meal, other times just a snack to keep you going. He’d make excuses to touch you, his hands lingering on your back or brushing against your arm as he walked by.

But you noticed the shift. His touches were growing more possessive, more intense, as if he was trying to remind you that he was still here, waiting for you to give him the attention he so desperately needed.

One evening, you returned home from a long day at work, exhausted and drained. You dropped your bag by the door and collapsed on the couch, barely managing to kick off your shoes. Within seconds, Logan was beside you, pulling you into his lap without a word.

“Logan, I’m—”

“Shh.” His arms wrapped around you, and you could feel the weight of his need in the way he held you, so tight you thought he might never let go. “You’re always busy, darlin’. Let me take care of you.”

The frustration in his voice was clear, but so was the affection. He wasn’t angry—he was hurt. Hurt that you hadn’t been giving him the time he needed. You felt a pang of guilt as you melted into his embrace, feeling the heat of his body against yours.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your head resting against his chest. His heart thudded steadily beneath your ear, a comforting sound that you hadn’t realized you’d missed. “I’ve been so caught up in work, I didn’t mean to—”

“Stop apologizin’,” Logan interrupted, his voice softer than before. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply. “Just... don’t do it again, alright? I miss you.”

You nodded, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice. Logan wasn’t the type to openly express his emotions, but the way he held you now—tight, protective, needy—said more than words ever could.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering against your hair. “I’ve been patient,” he muttered, his voice rumbling through his chest. “But I need you. Not just here, but with me. You get what I’m sayin’?”

“I do,” you replied softly, shifting to look up at him. His eyes met yours, and you could see the raw emotion swirling in them—jealousy, frustration, but above all, love. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much.”

Logan grunted, but this time there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Guess I can forgive you, but only ‘cause I know how hard you’ve been workin’. Just don’t make a habit of it.”

You laughed, feeling the tension in your chest ease. “I’ll try not to.”

He leaned down, brushing his lips against yours in a soft, lingering kiss that made your heart race. You could feel the heat of his need, the way he poured every bit of his pent-up affection into the kiss. It was almost overwhelming, but in the best way possible.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your lips. “I’m not gonna stop remindin’ you I’m here,” he said, his voice low and rough. “You’re mine, darlin’. Don’t forget that.”

You smiled, your fingers tracing the edge of his jaw. “I won’t forget.”

For the first time in weeks, you allowed yourself to relax completely in his arms, savoring the warmth of his touch and the strength of his embrace. Logan wasn’t one to be needy often, but when he was, it only made you fall harder for him.

And maybe, just maybe, it was exactly what you needed too.

[sabersandsnipers]

Drabbles: Just One Bed (part ii)

Featuring: Astarion, Halsin, Gale, Raphael

A/N: I love that you are all as obsessed with the one bed trope as I am lol. Inspiration courtesy of @creativepromptsforwriting

Astarion

You can’t explain the pleasure that courses through your veins every time Astarion feeds from you. The delicious waves of heat that writhe in your lower abdomen. The light feeling that envelopes you as your blood is slowly drained from your vessels.

This current feeding session isn’t any different. Slight moans leave your lips at the delicious feeling floating through you. Astarion cradles your head for easier access to your neck, his other hand grips your thigh, holding you in place.

Just when the edges of your vision begin to blur, his fangs part from your skin. You let out a breath, heat flushing through you. His tongue licks the remaining blood off your neck. The hot feeling of his tongue gliding along your skin earns a shiver from deep within you.

“Thank you,” he sighs, hovering over you. “I was feeling so weak.”

You simply nod, your mind so mushy you can’t even form a coherent sentence. Your limbs feel like jelly. Your breaths come out in heavy bursts, as if you just were running uphill.

Astarion notices your state, taking in the paleness of your skin, and the slight shake in your hands. “Do you want to sleep here tonight?” It’s the least he could do after taking so much from you.

You look at him, an incredulous look on your face. He’s never invited you to stay with him before. Not that the invitation isn’t tempting. The last thing you want to do right now is drag yourself to your own tent. Besides, you find Astarion’s presence comforting, despite his history.

“Sure,” you respond, your body relaxing a bit.

Sleep is quick to find you. After a few hours of dreaming, you wake to find yourself in Astarion’s arms. His face is buried in your neck. Your body is flush against his, and you can feel the firmness of his body.

You smile to yourself, happy to help find comfort in any form.

Halsin

The grass beneath you tickles your skin. The hardness of the ground presses into your back uncomfortably. You always admired Halsin’s connection to nature. But did he have to be so connected he had to insist on sleeping in the woods?

Traveling with Halsin alone meant “using the forest as your resting place”, as he had said too excitedly. You couldn’t bring yourself to deny him. He was absolutely giddy at the prospect of a sleepover with you under the stars.

But now, with twigs digging in your back and rocks up your ass, it’s hard to see the bright side of the situation. You toss and turn, trying to find any sort of comfortable position.

“Are you alright?” You hear Halsin’s deep voice ask.

You squirm against the ground again. “I’m alright. I just…feel a little exposed is all.”

He chuckles. “Understandable, seeing as it’s your first time sleeping in the forest.”

You hear him shuffle closer to you. The heat of him is quick to reach you. “Come here,” he says, reaching for you.

You allow him to pull you onto his bare chest. The firmness of his body is somehow more comfortable than the hardness of the ground. He wraps his arms around you, securing you in place .

Every inch of you is acutely aware of his proximity. He seems unbothered by your positioning though. You will admit, laying on top of him is much better than the cold, hard ground.

His thumbs trace circles along your exposed skin, and your arms wrap themselves around his neck as you find the most comfortable position you can.

“Better?” He asks. His voice vibrates through you.

“Much,” you tell him, and he lets out a contented sigh.

Gale

Your group was lucky to reach an inn before the storm began raging. The dark clouds stirring above you gave evidence of the snow about to fall. Goosebumps pebbled your skin as the temperature dropped.

You’re grateful to have an actual bed for the night as well. Not so grateful you have to share with someone else. But if you had to share with someone, Gale isn’t a bad choice. He’s one of the few members that’s actually considerate, even selfless.

The bed is pretty small, and even with the fireplace going, you find yourself growing cold. You pull the blanket around yourself as tightly as you can, careful to not take too much cover away from Gale. You can feel warmth radiating from him, though, and your body craves it.

Your teeth chatter suddenly, and you clamp them in an attempt to smother the noise.

“You’re cold aren’t you?” Gale suddenly asks. You turn to face him, a slight flush heating your cheeks as you notice he’s sleeping shirtless.

“I’m fine,” you lie, not wanting to complain.

He sighs, motioning you over. “Just come here. We’ll stay warm if we’re close.”

You know you should deny him. Snuggling with a companion is a risky game. But you trust Gale.

You scooch over into his embrace, sighing at the warmth of him. He wraps his arms around you as you rest your head against his chest. Your fingers are freezing, so you place them against his torso.

He hisses. “Your hands are freezing.”

You giggle. “Sorry. I hope you don’t mind.”

You feel his mouth move against your hair. “Not at all.”

His skin nearly feels like fire against the cold, but it’s also a welcome feeling. You admire how he holds you so tightly. You breathe in his scent, noticing how it comforts you.

It doesn’t take long for his heat to seep into you, and eventually, a deep sleep overtakes you.

Raphael

It’s either sleep in his bed with him, or sleep in your cell. He says you should call him merciful for giving you a choice, but it doesn’t feel like mercy. He’s so pleased with himself when you huff with frustration at his offer.

Sleep with a devil, or sleep behind bars. You’re not sure which one is worse. In the end, you choose the option with the bed. Knowing Raphael, it will be one of the most comfortable beds you’ve ever slept on.

He doesn’t hesitate to instantly invade your personal space when you crawl under the sheets. You feel his presence at your back, and you know his eyes are raking over you, taking in every detail he can. Searching for every button he can push.

He presses himself against you, wrapping an arm around your torso to hold you. A tingly feeling builds in your lower abdomen. You scold yourself. This creature simply wants to tease you.

And tease you he does. He traces those claws of his along your thighs. He lets his soft breaths linger at the back of your neck. He never reaches for an intimate part of you though, but will get close before backing off again. It leaves you feeling empty, and it drives you mad.

“I won’t be sleeping tonight, will I?” you ask him, a small shake in your voice.

“Not a wink, little mouse.” You can hear the smug smile in his voice.

[number1jeonginstan]

A/N: Ngl, this was supposed to be a drabble… Anyway, I was listening to 2nd gen K-pop while listening to this, which is so counterintuitive because I was vibing to Gee while writing some of the craziest smut I’ve written in a while. Anyways, hope y’all enjoy <333 Answers 🥟 anon's request!

Minors don't interact, 18+

Pairing: Roomate Perv!Hyunjin x Perv!afab Reader

WC: 3k (oh!)

Warnings: Pervy reader and Jinnie, unprotected sex, m!masturbation, f!masturbation, use of vibrator, call reader names (whore, slut, good girl, ect…)

Your window cracked ever so slightly, allowing you to feel the spring breeze, but not enough to allow bugs and pollen to infiltrate your room. Your clock in the corner of your room was clicking away as the seconds passed. The only thing on your mind was what you were going to order for dinner. Before you could even shout out to your roommate, asking him what he wanted to eat, he barged into your room. The door ricocheted off the stopper causing you to look up. 

“What do you want to eat Hwang?” you asked, turning around so your back was touching your bed. He knew it was your week to order food, but that wasn’t what he was here for. “Just get whatever, I’m not picky”

Before he could even continue, you cut him off, stopping him mid-sentence, his mouth hung open.

“Dude, last time you said that you threw a 45-minute tantrum of how ‘it wasn’t what you wanted’ and made me order a whole separate dish, only for you to eat mine because you were hungry and didn’t want to wait that long.”

“Hey, if you got it right the first time, we wouldn’t have been in that situation” he huffed, jumping on your bed, causing you to lift a bit. 

He was wearing a black hoodie and some gray sweatpants, per usual. His new eyebrow piercing was right in your face as you turned to him. He chuckled, stealing your phone, and looking through the options to eat from. 

Turning around so your breasts were pushed against your bed. They were slightly spilling out from your tanktop, but it was too warm to care. You didn’t understand how your friend wasn’t burning up in his outfit, but you didn’t care enough to ask. 

“So, what are we getting to eat” you asked, trying to take your phone back from his grasp, but he stopped you. 

Damn him and his weirdly long fingers that no man should have. “I was thinking, beer and chicken? It’s simple enough and we still have some cans left over so I won’t drain your bank account” he grinned. 

You simply nodded, telling him to order it while you went to the bathroom. What you didn’t know was that wasn’t all Hyunjin did. A couple of weeks ago, when he asked to borrow your phone to send pictures of himself from a party the two of you attended with the rest of your friends, he saw pictures you took of yourself, in the cutest set he’s ever seen. 

He knows that he constantly sees you in your short clothes all the time, but something about you wearing a pink lacy set had him weak in his knees. He came twice just thinking about it, the image burned into the back of his retinas. 

He needed to see it again, so while you were doing your nighttime skincare routine, he went through your phone trying to find the photo. What he didn’t expect was there to be multiple angles and even multiple sets. He felt his cock harden in his pants, trying not to groan at the sight of you in barely anything. 

He quickly took out his phone from his hoodie pocket, making sure that you weren’t out yet, and airdropped himself the photos, so there wasn’t any evidence of what he was doing. 

He put his phone back in his pocket and exited out of your photos app just in time. You came out of the bathroom, your hair pushed back with a bunny hair band, whilst tossing one to him. “Come on, you know the drill” you giggled as he took off his hoodie, revealing his toned stomach and navel piercing.

He had gotten it with his eyebrow piercing after Jisung had dared him to. You were there for the entire thing, not expecting him to actually go through with it, but for some reason he did. It looked good though, so you weren’t going to complain. 

He eventually put on the headband, after a minute of his dramatic sighs and protests. You knew he could never say no to you. You giggled at him, realizing how silly you both looked, but not complaining. 

You pulled at him, trying to drag him off your bed so the two of you could watch a movie in the comfort of your living room. 

The layout of your apartment was a bit off. Your rooms were right next to each other, and you both had your own bathrooms and walk-in closet. Which was nice, especially due to how much money the two of you spent on clothes. 

Your living room was much smaller than others, connecting to your kitchen, but the two of you didn’t complain. It was homey and perfect for the two of you, and for the rest of your friends whenever they came over for your week’s movie night. 

You both finally made it to the living room after Jinnie complained that “your bed is too comfortable” and “How am I supposed to leave if Sergent Bingo doesn’t want me to?” 

You giggled at that, knowing how much he loved the stuffed animal that lived on your bed that he had won for you at the fair the first year of living together. 

“I think he will live, plus we can bring him with us if it means so much to you!” 

He just sighed as he got up, wrapping his arms around the stuffed bear and muttering about how Bingo didn’t appreciate being moved from his habitat. 

“You are such a big baby” you giggled, sitting on the couch next to him, wrapping a blanket around your body as you attempted to find something for the two of you to watch. 

“Am not” 

“Are too”  

Before he could rebuttal, the doorbell rang, causing you both to turn your heads. “Foods here” You got up, throwing the blanket at his face, laughing at his shocked expression. 

You got the food from the delivery man, thanking him for walking up all the steps to your apartment. “What did you order again?” you yelled from the kitchen, getting paper plates and beer cans from the fridge. 

“I got those cheese balls that you always fawn over, then just original and galbi because we both like that” 

You got back to your seat, cracking open one of the cans of beer as the two of you began to watch a K-drama that Seungmin had recommended, Move To Heaven.

Two episodes in, and the two of you were sobbing, the food was gone, and the beers that were previously in your hands were splayed across the table. 

“I can’t believe that happened to him, what did he do to deserve this?” you sobbed, hugged Hyunjin who was also on the verge of tears. 

“I mean, who kills them off the first episode, like he did not need that happening to him” he said, hugging you back. 

“I think that’s enough for today,” you said, wiping the tears off your face as you turned off the TV. Hyunjin threw away all the boxes and plates as you collected the blankets, folding them and putting them away in the storage closet next to the living room. 

“Good night, sleep tight!” you said to Hyunjin as he began walking to his room. He bid you a good night as well, laughing at the way you were holding Sergent Bingo above your head as you entered your room. 

Little did either of you know that you were in fact not sleeping tight.

You had taken out the vibrator your friend had gifted to you for your birthday, making sure it was fully charged before pressing it against your clit. It was small, but it did the job perfectly, always leaving you satisfied. 

You usually never got off when Hyunjin was home, but you had been so pent up for the last month, that you just had to do something about it. You couldn’t wait any longer, you removed your shorts and underwear in one go and began to tease your slit. 

You could feel the cool air hitting your legs and cunt, the small hairs on your legs sticking up at the sensation, but you ignored it, the only thing on your mind being Hyunjin. 

The way he looked today, the way he smelt. You would think a grown man wearing a bunny headband couldn’t be hot, but you were wrong. The way he licked his fingers, trying to get the sauce off them, all you could imagine if that was how he would eat you out.

Would he suck on your clit like he did his fingers, how would they feel inside you? You thought back to his grey sweatpants, the way you could see the imprint of his dick against them, causing you to rub your thighs in front of him. You prayed that he didn’t see you, but if he did would he help you?

You could feel yourself getting wetter at every passing moment, your finger rubbing against your clit. It wasn’t enough though, you needed more stimulation or else you wouldn’t be able to get anywhere. 

You turned on your vibrator, allowing the low hum of it to overtake your room. You began to slowly press it against your clit, low moans escaping your lips as you press it harder onto yourself. You tried to keep quiet, but it felt so fucking good, that you didn’t notice the moans escaping your lips. 

But Hyunjin noticed, he could hear each moan escaping your lips. He was devouring each one like it was a hymn. He could feel his cock getting harder, straining against his boxers and sweats, it isn’t weird that he’s hearing you right?

If he just happens to jerk off right now, it wouldn’t be weird, right? He just happened to feel the need to get off at the same time as you. It wasn’t your moans that were making him this hard. 

That’s what he kept telling himself as he pulled his cock out of his boxers and sweats. He began to languidly stroke his cock to the sounds of your moans, using the pre-cum leaking from his tip as lube. 

He slowly pulled out his phone, looking at the pictures that he had airdropped himself earlier. Were you wearing the set you had in the picture, were you lying down like this, all pretty with your legs spread out just for him? 

Would you be able to take his cock, or would you whine that it’s too much, how your tight little cunt couldn’t take it? 

His body shivered as he could feel himself getting closer, but it all stopped when he heard another broken moan escape your lips.

“Jinnie-ah” 

He couldn’t believe it, you weren’t moaning his name. It was just his imagination until he heard it again. The whimper that escaped your lips as you moaned out his name. 

“Hyunjin, fuckkk” 

His body went rigid, he quickly got up, dressed himself, and pressed his ear against your shared wall. He needed to hear you say his name again. He had to make sure it was his name you were moaning. 

You couldn’t cum, it wasn’t enough, no matter how much you tried. You were so pent up, you needed to cum, but you just couldn’t, so you began crying. Tears streamed down your face as you tried to fuck yourself with your fingers as your vibrator was still attacking your clit, but it wasn’t enough. 

That was til you heard your door creak open, there you saw Hyunjin. You tried to cover your body as fast as you could, but he didn’t let you, ripping your blanket off your body, leaving you in just your tank top. 

“Such a fucking whore, moaning my name. You were just begging for me to hear you, right baby? Poor little thing can’t cum by herself, she needs my fingers, doesn’t she?”  

You just nodded, no longer feeling ashamed, feeling the need to cum. “It’s okay baby, I’m here to help. Sometimes whores can’t get off by themselves, that’s why you need me”

He got on top of you, his knees pressed into your bed, trapping your thighs between them. He kissed your lips, nibbling at your bottom lip before moving his lips down to your neck, sucking at your skin. 

“Who do you need baby?” he asked, removing his lips from your neck, running his finger against your slit, feeling how wet you were.

“Need you” you whined underneath him as his finger pressed against your clit. “Then why were you using this instead of coming to me?” he asked, holding up your vibrator. 

“Is this better than me?” he asked, pressing his finger against your clit, causing you to moan. “Come on baby, you can’t be this dumb?” He asked you again, slapping your face slightly, sticking his thumb in your mouth, causing you to suck. 

“It’s okay, I can make you cum like the whore you are” he chuckled before taking his finger out of your mouth and began to finger your hole. “Fuck you are so tight” 

“Mhm, only for you Jinnie” you moaned as he began to thrust his fingers faster into you, adding another one. Your walls were clenching around him. “Look at you, so close to cumming. Can’t believe you were using this flimsy little thing. Should we see if it really works?” 

Before you could even comprehend what was going on, he turned on your vibrator, pressing it against your clit. 

“FUCK!” you moaned, you felt like you were so close to cumming, it only took Hyunjin another curl of his fingers in your cunt to make you cum around his fingers. Your body was convulsing around him, your thighs enclasping his hands. 

“Ah ah, you are going to take my cock baby. Why do I think I prepped you? Moaning my name like the fucking slut you are. You are the one who caused this” he whispered into your ear while dragging your hand to his pants, allowing you to feel how hard his cock was for you.

He flipped you around while pulling down his own boxers and sweats, throwing them somewhere in your room. You took a look behind you to see his cock, and your jaw dropped. He was huge in length, not as much in girth, but his cock was so pretty. 

His tip was pink and leaking precum while he had multiple veins running alongside his cock. “How is that going to fit?” you whimpered, “Don’t worry, I’ll make it fit baby.” 

He slapped his cock on your ass before sliding the tip along your slit, causing you to moan. He lifted you by your hair, wrapping it around his hand, causing you to cry at the sharp sting. “Look at my cock baby, fuck, have never felt this fucking hard in my life. You are gonna make me feel good aren’t you baby? Going to take my cock like the good girl you are” 

“Yes, gonna take your cock, gonna take it so well” you whimpered as he pushed the tip inside of you. 

“Feels so good” you moaned as he let go of your hair, your head loling on the side of your pillow. 

“Fuck baby, barely have the tip in and you are so fucking tight. Can’t wait til I make you mine” 

He slowly began to thrust his cock into you, adding an inch at a time. But as your walls clenched around him, he lost all of his patience, thrusting his cock deep inside of you.  

He slowly took his cock out of you, leaving only the tip in, only to thrust back into you with full force. 

“You planned this didn’t you?” he asked, as he continued to pound into you. Your face was deep in your pillows, your voice muffled, so he yanked at your hair, causing you to moan.

“Speak when you are spoken you slut” he slapped your ass, causing you to moan. “You planned this didn’t you, the photos of you in your camera roll. You moaning my name so loud the entire floor could you” 

“What if I did?” you said giggling. This only enraged him more, causing him to thrust into you faster. Your hair was still in his hand, your back arched against his chest.  “Such a fucking whore, making me think I was a pervert when you orchestrated everything.” 

“Just wanted you, are you that mad at me” you whimpered as he took one of his hands to rub your clit. 

“I could never be mad at you baby, you know that” he kissed your neck before letting your hair go, your face falling back into the pillows. He lifted your hips a bit higher, causing you to scream out his name, which was fortunately muffled by the pillows underneath you. 

“I can feel you baby,” he said, feeling the way your walls were clamping his cock “cum for me baby, cum on my cock and take my cum like you’ve always wanted to” he said, kissing your back. 

That was all you needed to cum on his cock, he used one of his hands to muffle your screams, not wanting to wake everyone up. It didn’t end there though, he continued to rut into you, chasing his own high. 

“Please Jinnie, too much can’t take it anymore” you whimpered underneath him, but that didn’t stop him. He needed to cum, he needed to mark you as his. “Fuck baby, you can take it, just a little more there we go” 

He came with a moan, filling you up with cum and making you squirm underneath him. He kissed your lips before falling next to you, pushing the hair out of your face.

“I hope that was okay,” he said, looking at you a bit ashamed. 

“Okay? That was amazing, I think that’s the hardest I’ve ever cum in my life” you said, kissing his lips. “The only thing I think is not okay is Sergent Bingo, his poor innocent eyes” which caused you both you laugh. You both wrapped your arms around one another, falling asleep in each other’s embrace.

[kentopedia]

I loooveee the way u write nanami 🥺🥺 was wondering if u could do a mini fic on nanami x reader but when they were in high school :O I feel reader would constantly flirt with him but he stays unbothered until she stops 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 thank uuuu

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEARTS — nanami kento

omg thank u so so much, you're very sweet <3 i think i was taking requests when you asked this, so im so so so sorry i took forever to answer :( this isn't exactly what you said but i hope it's close to what you had in mind <3

contents: sfw, high school nanami & reader, mutual pining, silly teenage emotions, fluff, it's not even really romantic but they're best friends that won't admit they have a crush on each other, reader is shorter than him, gn!reader — 1.2k

“you can’t stay mad at me forever, kento.”

your best friend — or so you thought — stayed silent as you walked through the abandoned warehouse, searching for the curses that needed exorcising. so far, they’d evaded you, just as kento had all of your questions.

he glanced over at you, mouth drawn into its usual line. “i can if i want.”

“oh really?” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you continued forward, following him through the building. “are you fifteen or five? you’re supposed to be the mature one!”

kento rolled his eyes, but didn’t dignify that with a verbal response, letting his blade dangle loosely at his side. an odd sound echoed through the hallways, but it wasn’t quite menacing enough to be a curse.

you groaned. “don’t you know everyone will just keep pairing us up on missions until we work this out?” if kento was going to continue to be a pain, you wouldn’t allow him the silence he wanted so desperately. he’d been ignoring you for over a week. “haibara’s lucky. he gets to go with the second years.”

nanami glanced over his shoulder, raising his eyebrow, before looking ahead once more. “you mean he’s lucky he gets to go with gojo.”

though you weren’t sure if it was supposed to be an insult to you or not, you laughed. “maybe.”

“yeah,” kento scoffed. “i thought so.”

the tone was flatter than usual, even for someone like kento, and you raised your eyebrows, letting the words settle between you.

“you’re being so sour. you know, you never even told me what i did wrong. you’re so mad at me, kento, and i don’t even really know why.”

kento watched his feet take one step, then another, the opposite ones moving ahead. he’d grown a lot over the summer — a fact you’d somehow only realized. since when had he been that much taller than you?

“i’m not mad,” he finally settled on. a weak argument as to why he’d been ignoring you for the duration of your mission, and the week before.

you frowned, chewing the inside of your mouth. although kento had a kind heart, you knew how nasty he could be to people he didn’t like. you didn’t want to be one of those on the list. “kento… i really am sorry. if i’ve done something wrong.”

the tension drained from his shoulders. he sighed. “you haven’t.”

despite wanting to push the issue further, you let it die, deciding to listen to the silence in case of any curses. though, it had been nearly half an hour, and you hadn’t found any yet. you were beginning to think that maybe your teacher had led you astray.

“can i ask you something?” kento, after ten minutes, finally interrupted the quiet again. and though that sort of phrase was never a good sign, you would’ve taken anything to get him talking to you again.

“of course, kento.”

he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, seeming shy, almost. had it not been so dark, you would have seen the slight tint of pink on his cheeks, that you only assumed was there to begin with.

“what is it about gojo that you like so much?”

you blinked. “what do you mean?”

“you’re… interested in him, aren’t you? like that?” kento shifted awkwardly, holding his body as if it wasn’t quite his own. “i mean, i just assumed…”

all over, you great hot, your cheeks burning with embarrassment, a wave of dread heaping onto your stomach. “you think i have a crush on gojo?”

“don’t you?”

you thought about it for a moment, staring at the ceiling. “i don’t know. maybe.”

“maybe?” kento pinched his eyebrows together. “what the hell kind of answer is that? you either do or you don’t.”

“i think he’s...” you stumbled over the words, not really sure when you’d started talking to nanami kento about these sorts of things. the words tasted sour in your mouth. “well, i suppose he’s attractive, isn’t he? he’s certainly charming. he makes me laugh.”

“you’re always flirting with him," kento said skeptically.

you shrugged. "i'm just teasing. if you consider that flirting, then i guess i am."

“hm. you sound like you think you’re supposed to be interested in him, just because he’s gojo.”

that raised a small laugh out of you. “maybe you’re right. i think i might just be interested in people i know won’t ever like me back.” kento’s eyes flashed, and before he could say anything, lips parted, you continued. “but what do i know about anything, anyway? teenagers are supposed to be dumb like that, aren’t they?”

kento frowned, brown eyes softer than you’d seen in awhile. “i don’t think you’re dumb.”

“thanks.” for some reason, that made you bashful, darting your eyes away as you smiled at the ground. “have you ever had a crush on anyone, kento?”

he gave you a tiny little smile, poking you in the temple, before repeating your words from earlier. “i don’t know. maybe.”

“you’re so stupid.”

kento laughed, then, a light noise that was more familiar to you than it was to a lot of others. “you know, if it makes you feel better, i think gojo likes you. really, i do. he thinks you’re pretty. he likes when you laugh at his jokes. geto told us. he talks about you to him all the time.”

and though you’d expected the words to send a wave of glee over you, the sort of silly emotion that came with a teenage crush, you didn’t feel excited as you should've. perhaps because satoru had never been the one you wanted.

“gojo just likes to be admired. besides, everyone likes when people laugh at their jokes. that's not special.” you kicked at the floor. “anyway, geto’s probably just telling you all that so you’ll tell me and i’ll make a fool of myself in front of them. that would really make them laugh.”

kento frowned, contemplative. “i don’t think he would do that.”

he wouldn’t. it just seemed the only good way to diverge the conversation.

you threw your hands up, expelling a loud sigh. “well… whatever. honestly, it doesn't matter. i don’t think i even want a boyfriend.”

kento gawked at you for a moment, lips slightly parted, before he shook his head, another snort of a laugh leaving him. “you’re so confusing.”

“you should be relieved. wouldn’t you be miserable if i started dating gojo?” you were only teasing him, bumping his shoulder with your own, a playful grin on your face.

but kento’s voice was gentle when he returned his answer, and the relief was evident on his face. “i would.”

whether you knew it then, or not, that little confession had changed the course of your life. you brushed it off easily, gripping your cursed tool tightly as you turned the corner again.

“hey kento?”

“what? the curses are going to sneak up on us if—”

“you’re my best friend, by the way. even if i was dating gojo, you’d still be my best friend. you’ll always be my best friend.” you stopped him, serious now. “no matter what happens.”

kento smiled softly, barely there at all. he squeezed your hand in return. “i hope so.”

[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : UNTIL THE END : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Logan Howlett x Old!F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Angst. Straight up angst

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: Major Character Death, Grief and Loss, Emotional Distress, Themes of Loneliness, Angst

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: One thing about not growing old, is seeing your loves ones die. Or rather, you pass away in Logan's arms from old age, despite his desperate pleas for you to stay. As you slip away peacefully, Logan is left devastated, forced to endure the pain of immortality without you by his side.

THE AIR WAS THICK WITH THE SCENT OF PINE, the distant howling wind gently brushing through the broken windows of the cabin. It was a small place, hidden deep in the wilderness, away from the chaos of the world. For years, it had been a sanctuary, a place for quiet moments, and the life you had built alongside Logan. But time had a way of catching up, even in the deepest woods, and now... you could feel it slipping away.

You lay in bed, wrapped in an old quilt, the weight of your own frailty pressing against your chest. Each breath was a struggle, shallow and painful. The once strong hands that used to wield weapons and patch up Logan after every brutal fight now trembled with age. You had always been his anchor, the one person who could calm the storm that raged inside him. But now, it felt as though the storm was about to outlast you.

He sat beside you, his rugged face etched with lines of grief that mirrored his age. His rough, calloused hand gently held yours, the warmth of his skin grounding you in these last moments. His eyes, those fierce, stormy eyes that had seen centuries of bloodshed and sorrow, softened as they locked onto yours.

“I don’t want you to go,” Logan’s voice broke, raw and uneven. His other hand, trembling despite his strength, brushed a strand of your gray hair away from your face.

You gave him a weak smile, a small attempt at comforting him, even as your body betrayed you. “Logan… I’ve lived a long life. Longer than I ever imagined.” Your voice was raspy, the effort to speak draining the little energy you had left. “You’ve kept me safe, kept me loved. That’s more than I could have asked for.”

His grip tightened around your hand as though he could hold you here through sheer willpower alone. But he knew better. The world had taken too much from him already. Every friend, every lover, every semblance of family—gone. You had been the last piece of goodness he’d managed to hold onto in a life soaked with violence. You were the one who made him feel human again. And now… even you were slipping through his fingers.

“Please,” Logan’s voice cracked, breaking through the tough exterior he always tried to hold. His heart was in his throat. “Don’t leave me. I can’t—I can’t lose you too.”

Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, the weariness pulling you under. The darkness was so tempting, so peaceful, but you forced yourself to stay with him a little longer. Just a little longer.

“Logan…” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, “You were always so strong… so stubborn. You’ll… you’ll be okay without me.”

He shook his head violently, anger and sorrow mixing in his chest, making it hard to breathe. “I won’t,” he growled. “You don’t get it. You’re the only good thing I’ve ever had.” His voice grew softer, broken. “Don’t leave me here alone.”

Your heart ached, not from the physical pain, but from the sorrow in his voice. You wanted to stay, wanted to tell him everything would be okay. But you both knew better. There was no stopping this. Death was as relentless as time.

“I’m tired, Logan,” you admitted, your voice barely more than a sigh now. Your hand slipped from his, and he immediately caught it again, holding onto it as though it were his lifeline. “I’ll always be with you… right here.” You reached up slowly, painfully, placing your hand over his chest, feeling the solid, familiar beat of his heart beneath your palm.

Logan lowered his head, his forehead resting against yours as he clutched your hand to his chest. His breath was hot against your skin, ragged and filled with grief.

“I don’t… I don’t know how to do this without you,” he whispered, his words filled with the weight of centuries of loneliness. He’d been alone before—he knew that life all too well. But the thought of returning to that now, after knowing the warmth of you, felt unbearable.

“I know you do,” you murmured, your voice fading as you blinked up at him, your vision swimming. “You’ve… always been stronger than you know.” You offered him a small smile, though it was weak, more of a ghost of the expression that used to light up his world. “I’ll be waiting… somewhere… someday.”

His breath hitched, and he held you tighter, his hand cupping your face, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped your tired eyes. “You’ll wait for me?” His voice was hoarse, desperate.

You nodded, your eyes drifting shut. “Always…” you whispered. “I’ll be… right… here…”

Your breath stilled. The weight of your hand went limp in his, and your chest no longer rose or fell.

“No,” Logan choked, his voice shattering in the silence of the room. “No, no, no… please…”

He pulled you close, burying his face in your hair, trying to will you back to life, trying to make time stop. His breath came in ragged, broken sobs as he held you to his chest, the weight of his immortality pressing down on him like a curse.

“I can’t do this without you,” he whispered into the quiet, his voice shaking, his chest hollow and aching. “Come back… please… come back…”

But the only response was the cold silence of the room, the echo of his words fading into the emptiness.

And there, in that small cabin in the woods, Logan held you, the woman he loved more than anything, his heart breaking as the storm inside him raged on, relentless and unforgiving.

He was alone. Again.

And this time, the pain felt like it would never end.

🏷️: @twinky-wink @fidgetingbee @astarions-girl-dinner @layladestiny8 @birdy-bat-writes @h0n3y-l3m0n05

If you want to be added to the tag list, let me know! 🫶

Also who needs therapy after reading this? Because i DEFINITELY need it after writing this

[0omillo0]

Hyunjin x reader

comfort ♡ the reader is exhausted but keeps telling hyunjin that she is fine, until she faints.

warnings: nothing, hyunjin being a drama queen

for @hannamoon143

You were running on fumes. Lately, it felt like the world was spinning a little too fast, the weight of everything pressing down hard. But you kept it hidden, pasting on a smile and giving Hyunjin a reassuring nod whenever he asked if you were okay. He could be a little too intuitive sometimes, and you didn’t want him to worry about you. After all, he had his own busy schedule, his own pressures.

Tonight, though, you felt especially drained. It was as if the air around you was too thick to breathe, and no matter how hard you tried, the tightness in your chest wouldn’t let up.

Hyunjin appeared in the doorway, tilting his head as he watched you with that curious, concerned look he’d been wearing so often lately. “Are you… sure you’re okay, Y/N?” His voice was soft, but you could hear the edge of worry underneath.

“Of course,” you said quickly, flashing him a smile you hoped looked convincing. “I’m just… tired. It’s been a long day.”

He raised an eyebrow, folding his arms. “You’ve said that every day this week.”

“I know. I just… I’ll be fine,” you said, waving a hand as if to brush it all away. But the wave of dizziness that hit you just then made you grip the edge of the table for balance.

Hyunjin’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure?” He took a step closer. “Because I know when you’re not telling me something. What’s going on?”

You let out a shaky breath, giving a small, helpless shrug. “I just… I don’t want you to worry.”

His gaze softened, but his tone was firm. “Too late for that, babe. I’m already worried.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the world around you started to blur, the edges of your vision going dark. Before you could stop it, everything went black.

When you opened your eyes, you found yourself lying on the couch, with Hyunjin’s face hovering above you, wide-eyed with panic.

“Oh my God, you’re awake! Are you okay? Are you breathing? Do I need to call an ambulance?” he exclaimed, his voice high with worry as he waved his hands dramatically.

“Hyunjin…” you murmured, struggling to sit up, but he immediately held you down.

“No, stay down! You fainted! Like, actually fainted!” His voice was a mix of alarm and pure distress. “Do you know how terrifying that was? One second you were standing, and the next, you were just… gone!” He clutched his chest, taking in a deep breath as if he’d barely survived the ordeal.

You managed a weak smile. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Scare me?” He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head in disbelief. “You think fainting right in front of me doesn’t scare me? You could’ve hit your head! Or… or… worse!” His eyes widened even further. “Do you want some water? Or a blanket? Or an entire medical team?!”

“Hyunjin,” you laughed softly, though you could feel your heart racing a bit from the embarrassment. “I just… I think I just pushed myself a little too hard.”

“A little?” he echoed, sounding incredulous. “Babe, this isn’t just ‘a little too hard.’” His voice softened, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand as he held it tightly. “You should’ve told me.”

“I didn’t want you to worry about me,” you admitted, looking down. “You’re already so busy, and I thought I could handle it.”

He let out a frustrated sigh, lifting your chin so you’d meet his eyes. “Listen, I don’t care how busy I am. If you need me, I’m here. Always.”

You looked away, feeling the emotions rising up, but he cupped your face, pulling your gaze back to him. “Hey,” he said gently. “I mean it. You’re my person, okay? You don’t have to do this alone. I wish you’d tell me what’s going on. Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together.”

You bit your lip, finally letting the tears slip down your cheeks. “I just… I feel like I’m failing, Hyunjin. I’m exhausted all the time, and it feels like I’m always one step behind. No matter how much I do, it’s never enough.”

He listened, his expression softening as he leaned closer, brushing a tear off your cheek with his thumb. “Oh, Y/N… why didn’t you tell me you felt this way?” His voice was a gentle whisper. “You’re not failing. You’re doing so much, and you’re amazing at everything you do. Don’t let yourself forget that.”

You shook your head, a soft laugh escaping despite your tears. “You’re just saying that because you’re my boyfriend.”

He shook his head emphatically. “No, I’m saying that because it’s true! I see you work so hard, and I see how much you care about everything you do. You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

“I just feel like it’s not enough. Like… if I don’t keep pushing myself, I’ll fall behind,” you confessed, voice barely above a whisper.

He pulled you into a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around you as he rested his chin on your head. “Then lean on me. You don’t have to do everything on your own. Just… let me be here for you.”

You stayed like that for a while, Hyunjin holding you as the weight of your worries seemed to melt away. His hand stroked gently down your back, and he hummed a quiet tune, one you recognized from his playlist.

After a moment, he pulled back slightly, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Alright, new plan: tonight, you’re doing absolutely nothing. I’ll take care of everything, and you’re going to relax.”

“But—”

“Nope. No ‘buts.’” He raised a finger to his lips, signaling you to stay quiet. “Doctor’s orders,” he said, puffing out his chest and winking.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his theatrics, even as he threw a dramatic hand to his forehead. “In fact, I’m not sure I can leave you alone. What if you faint again? I’d never recover!”

You rolled your eyes, smiling despite yourself. “Fine. I’ll rest… if it’ll make you feel better.”

He nodded, looking relieved. “Good. But I’m not leaving you alone tonight. You’re stuck with me.” He gave you a playful nudge and then got up, grabbing his phone. “Let’s see… I’m thinking snacks, movies, and maybe an emergency blanket fort. You’ll thank me later.”

With a sigh, you gave in, feeling lighter already. As he bustled around, grabbing pillows and snacks, you watched him, your heart swelling with gratitude. He might be a bit of a drama queen, but he cared for you in ways that made every worry seem smaller.

Hyunjin returned, arms full of snacks, a mischievous smile on his face. “Now, the real question is: cheesy romance movie or hilarious rom-com?”

You laughed, feeling a genuine smile spread across your face. “You pick.”

He settled beside you, putting an arm around your shoulders. “Rom-com it is. And hey, if you start feeling overwhelmed again… you come to me, alright?”

You nodded, leaning into his side as the movie began. “Thank you, Hyunjin. For everything.”

He squeezed your hand, resting his head against yours. “Always, Y/N. I’ll always be here.”

In that moment, you felt lighter than you had in weeks, wrapped in the warmth of Hyunjin’s presence and knowing that, no matter what, he was by your side. And as the night wore on, filled with his laughter and comforting touch, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to face the world alone.

[writingforstraykids]

We'll be right here

Pairing: husband!Minchanlix x fem!reader

Word Count: 1652

Summary: Getting sick isn't as bad with your three loving husbands anymore. Each of them has their way to take care of you and try to make you feel better.

Warnings/Tags: fluff, sick!fic, husband!min, husband!lix, husband!channie, comfort, short mentions of fever, coughing, sore throat

A/N: I thought I'd write you a little something for you to enjoy until you're feeling better, wifey @slutforchanlix 🖤 As you love all three of them I decided to go for your beloved Chanlix along with Minho☺️🖤

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

You woke up feeling an unusual heaviness in your limbs, a dull ache in your head, and a scratchy throat that seemed to have appeared overnight. The bed that once felt like a sanctuary now felt like a trap as you struggled to sit up, a wave of dizziness crashing over you.

“Ugh, I feel terrible,” you mumbled to yourself, barely recognizing your own voice. Your throat felt like sandpaper, and each word was a laborious effort. You reached for your phone, squinting at the bright screen to check the time. It was still early, but you knew you needed help.

“Hey guys, I think I’m sick,” you texted the group chat with your husbands. Your fingers felt clumsy, and even typing out that short message seemed to drain what little energy you had left.

It wasn’t long before you heard footsteps hurrying down the hall. The door to your room creaked open, and Minho’s concerned face appeared, quickly followed by Felix and Chan. Minho, always the observant one, was the first to approach your bed.

“Y/nnie, why didn’t you say something sooner?” Minho’s voice was gentle but laced with worry as he placed the back of his hand on your forehead. “You’re burning up.”

Felix knelt by the bed, his brows furrowed in concern. “You should’ve called us earlier. We’re here to take care of you, remember?”

Chan sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes filled with concern. “Don’t worry, we’ve got you. Let’s get you comfortable first.”

Minho disappeared into the kitchen, determined to make you some soup. You could hear the clattering of pots and pans, a reassuring sound that brought a small smile to your lips despite the discomfort.

Felix, always the sweet one, began massaging your aching limbs. His touch was gentle and soothing, working out the tension that had built up in your muscles. “This will help you feel better, I promise,” he said softly, a comforting warmth to his words.

You managed a weak smile, appreciating the effort they were putting into making you feel better. “Thanks, Felix. It already helps.”

Felix grinned, his freckles dancing on his cheeks as he did. “Good, because I’m not stopping until you’re back to your usual self. And I might throw in a few jokes to speed up the process.”

You chuckled weakly, the sound turning into a cough that made your throat burn. Felix’s hand stilled for a moment, but he quickly resumed, trying to soothe the discomfort.

Chan reached over and took your hand in his, his grip firm yet gentle. “I won’t let you go through this alone. We’re here for you, no matter what.”

A tear slipped down your cheek at his words, not from sadness but from the overwhelming gratitude you felt. “You guys are amazing. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Minho returned with a steaming bowl of soup, the aroma filling the room and making your stomach growl despite the nausea. “Alright, time for some of my special homemade soup. It’s guaranteed to make you feel better.”

He sat beside you, carefully blowing on a spoonful of soup before bringing it to your lips. “Open up, Y/nnie. Just a little at a time.”

You obediently opened your mouth, the warm broth sliding down your throat and instantly providing a bit of relief. Minho continued to feed you patiently, ensuring you ate slowly so as not to upset your stomach further.

“Thank you, Minho. This is really good,” you said between sips, feeling a bit of strength returning with each spoonful.

Minho smiled, his eyes soft with affection. “Anything for you. Just focus on getting better, okay?”

As the day went on, the three of them took turns tending to your needs. Felix continued his massages, cracking silly jokes that made you smile even when you didn’t think you had the energy to.

“What did the sick tomato say to the other tomato?” Felix asked with a grin.

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “What?”

“I’m feeling a bit under the weather,” Felix replied, wiggling his eyebrows comically.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound blending with a cough. “That’s terrible, Felix.”

He laughed along with you, the sound lightening the heavy atmosphere in the room. “I know, but if it makes you smile, it’s worth it.”

Chan was your constant source of comfort, his presence a soothing balm to your fevered state. Whenever you felt cold, he would wrap his arms around you, holding you close and sharing his warmth. “I’m not going anywhere,” he’d whisper, his breath tickling your ear. “I’ll be right here, I promise.”

You leaned into his embrace, finding solace in his steady heartbeat and the gentle rise and fall of his chest. “I don’t want to get you sick,” you murmured, though your words were half-hearted. The comfort he provided was too precious to refuse.

“You won’t,” Chan assured you, his voice firm and unwavering. “Taking care of you is more important. We’ll worry about me later.”

Minho kept the soup coming, ensuring you stayed hydrated and nourished. He even prepared some herbal tea, its soothing properties helping to ease the soreness in your throat. Each sip felt like a small victory, a step closer to feeling normal again.

“Minho, you’re really good at this,” you said after finishing another bowl of soup. “Have you been practicing?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Just years of taking care of you all. Plus, it’s easy to put in the effort when it’s for someone as special as you, my beautiful wife,” he winked at you, making you blush softly.

The day stretched on, with Felix’s jokes becoming a steady background to the symphony of Minho’s cooking and Chan’s comforting presence. The combination of their care and the medicine they brought you gradually began to ease your symptoms.

As the sun set and the room grew dim, Minho suggested you try to get some rest. “Sleep is the best medicine, after all. We’ll be right here if you need anything.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of the day’s exhaustion settling in. “Thank you, all of you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Felix tucked the blankets around you, his touch gentle and reassuring. “You don’t have to worry about that because we’re not going anywhere.”

Chan kissed your forehead, his lips cool against your fevered skin. “Sweet dreams, Y/nnie. We’ll be here when you wake up.”

You drifted off to sleep, their presence a comforting anchor in the haze of your illness. The night passed in a blur of fevered dreams and intermittent wakefulness, but every time you opened your eyes, one of them was there, keeping watch and ensuring you were never alone.

The next morning, you woke to the sound of quiet chatter and the smell of fresh coffee. Blinking blearily, you saw Minho setting a tray with breakfast on your bedside table, Felix fluffing the pillows behind you, and Chan smiling warmly from the foot of the bed.

“How are you feeling today?” Minho asked, his voice gentle as he helped you sit up.

“A bit better,” you admitted, surprised at the improvement. “Still tired, but not as bad as yesterday.”

Felix grinned, his eyes sparkling with relief. “That’s what we like to hear. More soup?”

You nodded, grateful for their continued care. “Yes, please. I think it’s working.” Minho handed you a bowl, and you sipped the warm broth slowly, savoring the taste. “Thank you, Minho. This really is the best soup I’ve ever had.”

He smiled, a hint of pride in his eyes. “I’m glad you like it. There’s plenty more where that came from.”

As you ate, Chan took your hand in his, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your skin. “We’ll keep taking care of you until you’re back to full strength. No rush.”

Felix leaned in, his expression playful. “And I’ve got plenty more jokes to keep you entertained. Ready for another one?”

You laughed, the sound feeling more natural and less strained. “Always.”

“What do you call fake spaghetti?” Felix asked, his grin widening.

“I don’t know, what?” you replied, curious despite yourself.

“An impasta!” he exclaimed, his eyes crinkling with amusement.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the silly joke lifting your spirits. “You’re ridiculous, Felix.��

“But you love me for it,” he shot back, his grin infectious.

Chan squeezed your hand gently. “And we all love you, Y/nnie. We’re here for you, no matter what.”

Tears of gratitude welled up in your eyes again, but this time, they were accompanied by a genuine smile. “I love you all too. Thank you for everything.”

The rest of the day passed in a similar fashion, with Minho ensuring you were well-fed, Felix keeping you entertained, and Chan providing constant comfort. They took turns sitting with you, their presence a constant reminder that you were loved and cared for.

By the time night fell again, you felt significantly better. The fever had subsided, and the aches in your body had lessened. You knew you still had a way to go, but with them by your side, you felt confident you could handle anything.

“Feeling ready for bed?” Chan asked as he helped you settle back under the blankets.

“Yeah, I think so,” you replied, exhaustion creeping in once more.

Felix kissed your forehead gently. “Sweet dreams, Y/nnie. We’ll be here when you wake up.”

Minho adjusted the covers one last time, his touch tender. “Rest well. Tomorrow will be even better.”

As you closed your eyes, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. Surrounded by their love and care, you knew you were in the best possible hands. And with that comforting thought, you drifted off to sleep, your heart full of gratitude and affection for the three amazing men who had shown you just how much they cared.

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @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 @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @silentreadersthings @myforevermelody143 @sapphirewaves @dis-trict9

[fushigur0ll]

IN SICKNESS & IN HEALTH

꒰ ♡ ꒱ you’re sick! so earth42!miles takes care of you at..3AM

includes; kisses, fluff, sick talk, sweetness and etc

sequel ~ 24/7 surveillance

“babe..miles! baby!” you try, emphasis on ‘try’ to wake your boyfriend up but knowing the type of deep sleeper he is, you know he wasn’t bound to wake up this easy and your body was getting weaker and weaker as every minute passes by.

every night, miles swings to your house unless he’s already there and sleeps over for the night, cuddling you until you both fall asleep comfortably and once miles is comfortable then there’s no waking him up till he wakes up himself. you always enjoy it when miles comes over to sleep with you because that’s when you sleep 10x better and you just wish you could enjoy it like how you did the night before and any other night but sadly you’re sick and when i say sick i mean as, sore throat, stuffy nose, headaches, weak body, sore eyes- that death feeling sick and it’s horrendous. you even feel so gross even when you took a shower literally before you laid yourself on that bad of yours. you groan softly when a feeling like someone is knocking your brain down with a hammer passes by, your migraines getting stronger every time they come as well.

you sigh and look at your sleeping boyfriend again, poking his nose but the only response you get from his was snores and that made you let out a drawn out groan. you open your eyes, immediately feeling the pain from looking around the semi dark room, eyes landing on the red numbers you see on the nightstand of your clock reading ’3:00AM’ you blow raspberries and look around again before you stop at the door of the bathroom.

this was gonna be hard..you want to freshen yourself up again so you’d be comfortable once more but you can barley feel your legs and arms. you definitely felt like you’ve been drugged but you remember this isn’t the first time it’s happened. you exhale and try getting sitting up but you end up rolling and rolling till you literally hit the floor with a loud thump. “oh sh- owwwwww” you whine, squirming on the cold floor boards overwhelming your bipolar tempered body. you try getting up but at that point you give up and lay in a starfish position on the ground, just staring at the ceiling fan.

“….baby where are you” you hear a deep and tired voice , one you love and know too well so you sigh.

“on the floor” you croak, cringing at the sound of your voice. it was silent before you hear the bed ruffle and rustle, miles head popping up from the bed and looking down at you with low lidded eyes.

“you good ma?” he asks, raising an eyebrow and you shake your head slowly. “i’m sick” you frown and close your eyes.

he stares at you and takes an arm out, using his hand to feel your neck, head and armpit. his eyes widen a tiny bit when he does feel the heat literally emitting from your body. he takes his hand back and stretches, before coming off the bed and leaning down to pick you up princess style.

“ou- miles be careful my head” you whine, holding your head in your hands,

“ ‘m sorry mami” he mumbles and kisses your warm temple, walking towards the bathroom and turning on the light. you immediately close your eyes, the light irritating your eyes further. he murmured another apology and kisses your cheek this time. he sits you on the sink counter and you open your eyes slowly, getting used to the light and you look at your boyfriend. he gets a clean face cloth, drowning it in warm water from the sink and drains it so it’s warm and damp. he walks back to you, and steps in-between your legs to wipe your face softly and you just sit there allowing him too.

the warmth from the damp rag felt nice on your face. you ask him to wipe your arms, legs and chest and he complied, doing so with feather light touches. he finishes and throws the rag in the hamper, turning back to you and cupping your face.

“you hungry?” he inquires, looking into your eyes and you nod. he hums in response and picks you up again. he moves you both out the bathroom not without closing the lights off then downstairs to your kitchen where he turns the lights on in there. your eyes is used to the light by now but that doesn’t mean your eyes doesn’t hurt from looking around.

“i already feel myself getting sick” he jokes, earning a soft and playful glare from you. “at least i didn’t sneeze on you” he chuckles, his chest rumbling slightly.

“at least you didn’t..not yet i mean” he glances at you as he sits you on the counter again. “i’m sick and you gonna bully me right now?” you raise a lazy eyebrow making him cross his toned arms staring back at you with the same expression.

“of course” he smiles and you rolls your eyes. “what do you wanna eat?” he moves towards the refrigerator and you hum, thinking about what you’re really craving for.

“anything, what’s in there?” you ask, light swinging your weak legs back and forth

“..cheese, leftovers, cake- you’re not eating cake” he knows you too damn well. literally when you’re sick you’ll get anything else other then something that’s like soup or actual food and will go for the sweets instead. your eyes sparkle at the mention of cake but you huff and frown when he told your ass no. he snickers and continues to look in the fridge.

“i’ll make you some soup and yes it can be chicken noodle soup” he closes the fridge but not before getting a cup of water and sees you with a bright smile on your face that makes him feel warm inside.

“thank you~” you singsong, giving him kissy lips and noises.

“anything for you baby”

it wasn’t that long before the soup was made and done. steam rising from the bowl that the soup has been poured into. he gets a spoon and goes back inbetween your legs. he gets the soup onto the spoon, blows on it a few times before putting it close to your already open mouth.

“it’s a bit hot okay?” he mumbles and you nod, encasing the spoon and soup into your mouth. your stomach rumbles happily in response, loving the taste of the soup, noodle and chicken broth. you hum and sway side to side in happiness. he watches you, snorting and shaking his head.

“cute” he leans into peck your lips and you smile softly.

“feed me peasant” you demand and his face drops so fast making you burst into laughter, falling back slightly and all he does is just stares at you blinking.

“you’re so lucky you’re sick right now because i could tickle you right now and never let you up” he stoically responds, his eyes tracking your every move. “hehe the way your face dropped” you giggle and sit up properly, leaning forwards to peck all over his face making the corner of his lips move up.

“i’m sorry pookie butt” his face drops again and you howl in laughter again but this time you start uncontrollably coughing, holding onto your chest. this time it was him laughing at you while you glare at him as you fight for your life trying to catch your breath back.

“not too much on me now milestone- don’t even try” he cuts you off, mean mugging whilst you, again, start wheezing and coughing. “look at you loosing your life, sit up baby” he chuckles and gives you the cup of water which you generously take sips from.

you both enjoy the small moment, laughing, talking as he feeds you soup till the bowl was empty. you burp and excuse yourself, feeling your body get better and less weaker. you tell him and even so he pick you up like a princess and picks up the cup of water then walks out the kitchen then turning the light off on his way out.

“going back to bed now?” you ask quietly, watching his side profile and he nods, looking towards you and staring at you.

“my own stalker huh?” he jokes and smirks when he sees you kiss your teeth. “you needa stop playing with me boy” you playfully push his head away and he chuckles, making his way back in the bedroom and placing you on the bed then placing the cup of water on the nightstand.

“how you feel?” he asks, looking down at you. you stare back and smile brightly. “i feel slightly good as new thanks to you” you widen your arms and he climbs into bed, laying down and pulling you ontop of him. you get yourself comfortable, laying your head on his chest as listen to the beating of his heart. he wraps one arm on you and one hand to your thigh, holding you securely. it was quiet and peaceful, his hand rubbing up and down the soft skin of your thigh, looking up at the ceiling as he feels your hand move towards his cheek.

“hm?” he looks at you, leaning into your hand as you look at him admiringly.

“thank you for taking care of me” you whispers and rub his cheek. he smiles softly and leans in to kiss your nose and forehead.

“anything for my girl”

fushigur0ll © 2022 all rights reserved. do not plagarize, translate, or post to other sites please.

[zomb-core]

۫ ꣑ৎ IMMUNE || carl grimes x female reader

summary: carl gets bit and y/n refuses to let him go out alone, she wants him to wait until after he turns to kill him and he reluctantly agrees only to find out he was immune.

(intended lowercase)

warnings : death, slight implication of suicide.

major angst to fluff

“please leave, I don't want you to see this.”

you shook your head at his plea, you couldn't leave him in there alone knowing what he was planning to do. rick and michonne had tried to get you to leave but it was no matter because you refused to leave him, refused to let him go out alone.

“i’m not leaving you in here so you can kill yourself!” you couldn't contain the sobs that came with your words, you'd done everything to keep yourself calm but it was futile. you sat by his side hunched over in tears, not being able to look at his face for the first time since you met him. when he had arrived at alexandria you could've sworn he was the prettiest boy you'd ever seen, you hadn't been able to keep your eyes off of him, even after he lost his eye and begged you to look away. now, here you sit, unable to look at his face, drained of color, eyes void of light.

“I need to do this.” he insisted, despite knowing it wouldn't deter you in the slightest; you always had been stubborn.

you searched your brain for something to say, something to prolong the inevitable moment, “i’ll do it.”

“y/n—”

“the second you turn I'll shoot you, I swear. just let me have these last couple moments with you, please.”

you hear him sigh before he lifts his hand off of the gun it'd been resting on, instead resting on top of your shaking hand. “okay. I trust you.”

for a moment you feel the weight on your chest lessen, sudden relief at the thought of more time with him even if your time with him will be cut short regardless, any time is better than no time.

“look at me.” his voice is gentle and plainly weak, but had a factor of desperation in it that was undeniable. for the first time since you had found out you allowed your gaze to meet his, his eyelid was droopy and he wore a soft smile, his expression alone telling you that he didn't have much time left. he began to rub circles on the back of your hand, his eye examining your face like he was trying to make sure you were permanently engraved in his brain, even in the afterlife. “promise me something?”

“anything.”

he chuckles at your quick response before continuing his statement, “promise me you'll keep going. I know you, I know how you are, I can see it on your face— you have to keep going, have to keep living. judith,” a quiet sob escapes him at the mention of his younger sister, “she needs you. dad and michonne are great and all, but she's gonna need someone to show her how we do things, someone like you.”

it took everything in you to not remind him it was him that she needed, not you, but you were sure it was known. “I don't know what I'm gonna do without you.” you say, silently agreeing to his request.

“you’ll figure it out.” he reached his hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb swiping over a stray tear. you hear him groan in response to propping his body up on his elbow, “come here.” a shaky exhale passes your lips as you lean into him, your head resting in the crook of his neck and your arms wrapped around him just as you had done just a few days prior in the safety of his room. part of you knew that this was it, you could tell this was goodbye by the way he held you — it was different compared to any embrace the two of you had shared in the past, more permanent, like there wouldn't be a next time.

“I love you.”

your nails dug into his back, a choked sob sounding out in the nearly vacant building, “I love you,” you weep, “more than anything.”

you wish there was a way to trade places with him, to not be forced to live without him, but it was too late for wishes, wasn't it?

he pulls back, his lips finding their way to yours in a gentle kiss. it was slow and soft, just like it had been the first time, though this time it was laced with more urgency and desperation, like the other might disappear into thin air. he pulls away, his forehead resting against yours, 

“thank you, y/n, for everything.” he says, pressing a kiss to the bridge of your nose, his hand moving to push the gun underneath your fingertips, his way of telling you it was over.

you feel him fall limp against you, his eye falling shut.

you contemplate sitting there until he turns, letting him turn you too, but you made a promise and you can't break it, not so soon.

you push him back against the hardwood, your entire body visibly trembling as you do so, loud sobs echoing through the building. you grab the gun and make sure it's loaded and ready, scooting back from his body a bit. you knew it was a mistake to promise to do this but it was worth it for the time you got.

your eyes lock on his body, watching as his chest continues to rise and fall even if it's weaker and more delayed than usual. you had never seen someone turn, you'd only heard the stories, so you weren't sure how much longer he would continue to lay there before he did fall victim to the virus, but you did know you refused to shoot him until then.

it had been hours since then and his chest was still rising and falling at the same pace, it was torture, a game of waiting. you thought back to the stories you'd heard, it had never taken this long, but maybe this was your punishment for all the wrong you did during the end of the world and maybe even before. no one was perfect so why would you be subjected to such hell? there were plenty of worse people out there, you were sure you were just the tip of the iceberg.

“y/n?”

you'd been so lost in thought that you nearly shot the wall in your shock. your eyes immediately fell onto the boy in front of you, your mouth agape at the sight, “carl?” you were sure you were seeing things, maybe you had fallen asleep or succumbed to the same hallucinations rick had been faced with after losing lori. “you're—?”

“alive? yeah.” he said, sounding just as confused as you were.

“but you got bit! how is that even possible?” your hands raised to your hair, the gun you had been holding falling to the floor.

“I don't know.”

the two of you stared at each other in disbelief, seemingly searching each other’s faces for a sign this wasn't real, not that either of you were hoping it wasn't.

it wasn't long before the tears started again, mostly from confusion and relief, “you're alive, oh my god, you're alive.” you couldn't resist throwing yourself in his arms, him happily reciprocating. his arms held you close to his chest, his head resting on top of yours as you sobbed in relief, his heartbeat echoing in your ears.

neither of you were sure how it was possible that carl was still alive, how he hadn't turned, but it didn't matter too much in the moment — he was alive.

your face left his chest to look at him, scanning his face once more to assure he was real before you collided your lips with his. the kiss was messy unlike the one you had shared before he supposedly passed, there were noses bumping together and teeth hitting each other, but it was the best kiss you had ever experienced.

“you think this means i’m immune?” he pulled away to ask, a geeky smile across his face at the reality of being alive and being with you.

“I don't know but let's not find out.”

masterlist

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

"anything" - emily prentiss x liaison!fem!reader

summary: you take an unnecessary risk out in the field

wc: 1.4k

cw: flangst? typical cm violence, but mostly just mentions, pre-establish relationship!

this is my first emily fic plz lmk if u like it!

A steady beeping slowly drags you awake. Your eyes flutter open and you take in the hospital room around you. The first thing you notice is the source of the beeping, from the patient monitor beside your bed. Then the pain hits you like a muffled train wreck, crashing into you but hitting a wall, so it doesn’t hurt quite so bad. They must have you on some strong medication, because it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as you thought it would. The worst feeling of all, though, comes from your abdomen, and when you shift in the bed, it aches and this weak little whimper uncontrollably escapes you. 

“Don’t move,” the velvet voice beside you warns. You didn’t even realize Emily was in here, that’s how knocked out you feel. When you turn your head, you see she’s got the chair pulled up as close to your bed as it can go, her elbows connected to her knees in a C-shaped hunch. “You’ll pop your stitches, and it still wouldn’t be the stupidest thing you’ve done today.”

You hear the sternness in your girlfriend’s voice and feel the color drain from your face. She always said you could never control your face, at least not around the people you love. In family interviews, or talking to the press? You could be stone-cold, unreadable. But once you’re comfortable around someone, your visage has a mind of its own. 

“I’m-”

“I know, you’re sorry,” Emily scoffs. Her voice reminds you of bitter, dark chocolate right now. She’s clearly irritated, but remains by your side loyally. That’s how you know she loves you. “That doesn’t change the fact that you made a thoughtless, reckless decision.” 

“I was actually going to say that I’m not sorry,” you huff, groaning softly as you move your rear back to sit up a little. Emily leans back in her seat and her jaw hardens. “Maybe I did act on impulse, but you would have done the same thing.” 

“You disobeyed Hotch’s direct order to stay put,” Emily’s chocolate eyes darken, and she rises from her seat, towering over you with her arms crossed over her chest. “And it got you shot.”

“I thought you were in trouble,” you grumble, your voice just barely above a whisper. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You and Hotch and Morgan all went in different directions, and I heard a scream and a gunshot from where you had gone,” you rattle off, your words all stringing together from the drowsiness. 

You recalled the vast farmland property where Garcia had nailed down the Unsub, how Hotchner didn’t want to wait on SWAT to show up because the guy’s endgame was so close to playing out. He killed at exactly noon with every single one of his victims, so the team had three minutes to find this missing girl. 

“And I couldn’t just stay put, Emily, not when I thought you’d been hurt,” you wring your hands over the top of the scratchy hospital blanket, your knuckles going stark white. “I couldn’t just wait to see what had happened. I couldn’t be helpless like that, not when I thought you might be hurt.” 

Emily’s got her eyes closed and she’s breathing in and out sharply, like she’s forcing herself to calm down, to filter through her initial thoughts so as to not say anything irreversible. “But Hotch told you to stay put,” she repeats in a defeated murmur, lifting one arm to run her hand through her hair. Her fringe is all over the place, and you’re just now noticing the dirt on her milky white cheek. She’s not rested since the farm, you realize, not even taken a second to wipe the dirt off her face. 

Guilt pours over you like a rainstorm, and you feel angry, frustrated, self-reproaching tears well up in your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. “I didn’t do it to scare you,” you whisper. “I’m sorry, Em. I’m sorry that you had to worry about me like that. But I’d do it again in a heartbeat if it meant knowing that you were okay.” 

“Don’t Em me,” her voice cracks and you see tears start to fall from her eyes. She must be so tired. You don’t know how long you’ve been out, but you can tell from her posture, from her expression, that she’s not had a moment of respite since she saw the bullet take you down. 

You recall the look on her face - horrified, when she hovered over you, lying in the dirt. She shot the Unsub directly after he shot you. Hotch and Morgan made it in time to help the victim out of her ties, so she ran over to you the second the Unsub was down. 

“What were you thinking?!” she shrieked, lifting your shirt only to find blood oozing from the hole in your stomach. 

“I thought…” you murmured breathlessly, your eyes immediately feeling heavy. 

“Someone get a medic over here now!” she shouted, holstering her gun and pressing her hands onto your stomach. You woke up in the ambulance a little bit after that, but were too hazy to say anything. 

All you remember is Emily crushing your hand between both of yours and muttering something under her breath repeatedly. "Stay with me, baby." You hear it now. "Please don't go."

You reach gingerly for her hand as she stands over you now, unable to stretch your arm out too far for fear of popping a stitch. She helps you out and shuffles forward a step, sitting back down in her chair and pulling it next to the bed. Your fingers grasp hers, and then your palms are flush together. “I’m still really pissed at you,” Emily says. “So is Hotch. Says he has half a mind to take you off active duty altogether.” 

You purse your lips. Surely that’s not totally true. “Well, then he’d have to deal with the press on his own, and he’d want to rip his hair out,” you say. Emily squeezes your hand and you squeeze back. 

“I think he’d do it if it mitigates the risk of you getting shot,” Emily admits seriously. 

“It’s just a graze,” you grumble. Emily’s glowering at you again, and you concede. “A graze that required emergency surgery, but still a graze.” 

“Baby, I don’t think you know what a graze is,” Emily says. “They had to remove a bullet from your stomach. That’s not a graze.” 

You feel your cheeks tingle as they turn pink and you shrug your shoulders, pretending to be none the wiser. “Tomato, tomahto,” you wave your free hand nonchalantly. 

“You feel okay right now? D’you need any more pain meds?” Emily asks, the caretaker in her taking over, despite her frustration towards you getting into this situation in the first place. 

“I’m alright,” you say quietly. Emily’s eyes, beautiful orbs of brown so dark they’re almost black, float down to where your wound is. “Em, hey,” you insist, and those eyes snap back up to yours. “I’m alright. Promise.”

“You’re an idiot, is what you are,” Emily chastises with a sigh. 

“How long are they keeping me here?” you ask in a feeble attempt to change the subject. 

“Probably just a couple of days,” she says, lifting your knuckles to her lips and kissing them gently, like you’re made of fine china, like you could shatter at any moment. “Everyone wants to see you. I told them you probably wouldn’t be up for visitors until tomorrow,” she says. 

“That’s fine,” you agree, leaning your head back against the pillow. Whatever medications flowing through the IV in your wrist has you feeling very low-energy. “And how long are you gonna be mad at me?” you ask, sticking your bottom lip out a little in an attempt to earn some sympathy points. 

Emily shakes her head a little, but you see the faint uptick of her mouth that gives her away. “At the very least, however long it takes you to recover,” she jokes halfheartedly. 

“Does my punishment come with a ban on kisses?” you ask, tugging her hand with your own. 

Emily leans forward in her seat, her lips mere centimeters from your own. “That would be a punishment for me, too, and I didn’t do anything wrong,” she teases, then pecks your lips briefly. 

Your eyes are feeling heavy, and you heave a small sigh. “Love you, Em,” you say softly as the room goes dark. “Do anything for you, Em.” 

“I know you would, baby,” Emily sighs as well, but you feel her thumb swiping over the back of your hand. “That’s the problem.”

[blackenedsnow]

can you do a keatlejuice x fem reader who passes out a lot due to illness?

faint of heart

WARNING: Mentions of fainting due to illness

PAIRING: Beetlejuice x (Fem) Reader

NOTE: Love this idea! I have this problem as well, just not due to illness. So I hope it wrote it decently enough.

SUMMARY: You’ve been dealing with a medical condition that causes you to faint more often than you'd like. Luckily (or unluckily), Beetlejuice, is always nearby when it happens.

You were used to the feeling by now—the lightheadedness that crept in without warning, the sudden exhaustion that drained the strength from your limbs. Still, no matter how accustomed you were to your illness, it didn’t make it any easier when the world around you started to blur and tilt on its axis. It was happening again, the familiar darkness creeping in at the edges of your vision.

“Damn it…” you muttered, swaying on your feet as you reached out to steady yourself against the wall.

Unfortunately, the wall wasn’t much help, and neither was your body. You could already feel yourself slipping, your knees buckling under you as you collapsed. Just before the darkness fully swallowed you, a voice broke through the haze—raspy and loud, with a hint of annoyance.

“Whoa, whoa, hold up there, sweetheart!”

And then, everything went black.

When you came to, the first thing you noticed was the sensation of being cradled in someone’s arms—scratch that, not someone. You didn’t need to open your eyes to know who it was. The smell of dirt, mildew, and that faint hint of something otherworldly told you everything you needed to know.

“Beej,” you groaned softly, trying to sit up, though a wave of dizziness made you reconsider.

“Yeah, yeah, I gotcha,” Beetlejuice’s voice came from above you, and you felt yourself being jostled slightly as he adjusted his grip on you. “Don’t go makin’ it a habit to pass out every time you see my face. I know I’m hot, but c’mon.”

You blinked up at him, his wild hair and striped suit filling your vision as you tried to focus. He was holding you, bridal-style, with a grin plastered on his pale face that was just shy of mischievous.

“Y’know, I could’ve just let you hit the floor. But nooo, I’m the good guy here, right? Heroic ghost with the most, swooping in to save the day.”

You sighed, shaking your head weakly. “Thanks, Beej… but you’re really not a hero.”

He scoffed, his grin widening. “Sure I am! Who else is gonna catch you when you go timber like that? Nobody cares for ya like I do, babe.”

As much as you hated to admit it, there was some truth to his words. Despite his odd personality and penchant for making a scene, Beetlejuice was always there when you needed him. No matter how irritating he could be on a daily basis, when it came down to moments like these, he never failed to show up. Somehow. At the perfect time.

“Seriously, though,” he said, his voice dropping into something that almost sounded like concern, though he tried to hide it behind his usual bravado. “You gotta stop doin’ this. You’re startin’ to freak me out.”

You managed a weak chuckle, patting his chest. “I don’t do it on purpose.”

“Yeah, I know.” Beetlejuice let out a huff, shifting you in his arms as he looked down at you with those mismatched eyes. “Still doesn’t mean I gotta like it. I mean, who’s gonna laugh at my jokes if you’re passed out half the time, huh?”

“You’re plenty funny without me,” you teased, though your voice was still quiet and a bit shaky.

“Nah,” he smirked. “I’m only funny ‘cause you laugh at all my dumb shit.”

For a moment, you both went into a comfortable silence. Sure, he was Beetlejuice—weird, loud, and often over-the-top—but beneath all that was something softer, something that genuinely cared about you. He wouldn’t admit it outright (that wasn’t his style), but the way he stayed close during your fainting spells, the way he always made sure you were okay, said more than his snarky comments ever could.

“You okay now?” he asked after a beat, setting you down gently on the couch. “You need anything? Water? Smelling salts?”

You shook your head, leaning back into the cushions as you took a few deep breaths. “I’m alright… just give me a minute.”

“Take all the time you need, dollface,” he said, plopping down beside you, legs crossed and his elbow resting on the back of the couch. “But hey, if you feel like passin’ out again, at least let me know so I can catch ya in a cool way next time. Maybe do a little spin, toss ya over my shoulder—y’know, something real dramatic.”

You smiled at him, grateful for the way he could turn even the scariest moments into something almost light-hearted. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Beetlejuice winked, tapping the side of his nose. “That’s my girl.”