#and stuffy/stuffie is how you feel when you have a cold... not cute... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aureatchi · 1 year ago

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⚕ ᡣ𐭩 . ° . AND IF THERE WAS A PLACE I HAD TO CHOOSE…IT’D BE IN YOUR ARMS TONIGHT. (bedroom session) ft. dazai, chuuya, fyodor, akutagawa, sigma

— how the bsd men treat you when you’re sick. (& more)

a/n. started writing when i was sick djsjsja. tagging my moots who were under the weather anytime this month <3 to them & anyone else unwell, feel better soon !!

info. fem!reader. fluff. established relationships. light angst & hospital in akutagawa’s. chuuya plays the guitar. you play the piano in fyodor’s. sigma’s a chef. some inspo from RED for dazai & fyodor’s (our hcs!)

DAZAI will cuddle with you anyway, even when you are buried under bundles of blankets. he still thinks you need a little more warmth…and you look just too cute wrapped up in what resembles an igloo to not nuzzle with you! however, don’t be surprised when he blames you for making him sick once you recover, as if it wasn’t his fault.

“A-choo!” Your eyes were watery, you felt too cold for your liking, and it was harder than usual to breathe through your nose. Your sneeze made you sit up in discomfort, and you hastily pulled the covers toward you.

“‘Bella? Are you alright?” Dazai sat up next, meeting your eyes as you turned your face toward him.

He noticed how flushed your cheeks were and how watery your eyes were as you frowned—no, the first thought Dazai had wasn’t Oh no! You’re sick!

“Aw, love! You look so cute!” And he tackled you back down.

“Osamu!” you shouted as he lay practically atop you, squeezing you like a teddy bear.

“‘Samu!” you repeated once more. “You’re going to suffocate me!”

“You feel so cold, though, darling!” His reply was muffled as he buried his face into your neck.

“It’s like you’re trying to get yourself sick!”

He sat the both of you back up.

“H-huh? What’d you mean? Why would anyone willingly get sick?”

“Oh, I’m not sure either!” you exclaimed. “Maybe so you can use it as an excuse to skip wor-“

You sneezed again, interrupting your statement, seeing through Dazai’s plan.

“Bless you ‘bella!” he replied, a bit too excited. “What were you saying?”

“I. Was-” you sneezed again. And then twice. And then thrice.

“Aw, my poor baby!” Dazai spoke in his infantile voice. “Looks like you’re super sick…don’t you worry your pretty head about that. I have a solution.”

“Yes, please,” you responded—as best as you could with him pinching your cheeks—thinking Dazai would finally get up and bring you medicine so you didn’t have to do it yourself. That was, in fact, a terrible assumption.

“You trust me so well you didn’t even wait for me to tell you!”

“Uh-”

He then proceeded to pepper your entire face with kisses.

“Get-well kisses! They work better than medicine, trust me. Because these ones are made from lo-ove~.”

“Osamu!” you shouted. “You’re really going to get sick!”

“Do you really think I care, pretty?” He moved his face so his nose was touching yours. “I’ll tell you a secret. I know why I’d get willingly sick. So that I’ll be taken care of by my favorite girl in the world-“

“You’re so stupid!” you facepalmed. “You see being ill as a reward?”

“Yeah, I’ll make you believe so by the end of the day,” he winked. “I’m not going anywhere.”

…

Thankfully, Dazai did give you medicine to clear your stuffy nose. And then he told you to stay in bed while he would prepare you…breakfast.

“Oh no,” you said, knowing well that you mostly cooked the meals for a reason. Dazai was good at many things, but there were exceptions. He wasn’t the worst cook, but he certainly wasn’t the best.

“Wait, please trust me on this one!” he pleaded before you could get up. “I promise you I won’t burn the house down.”

The brunette was staring at you with dramatic puppy-dog eyes, and you were too tired to object any further.

“You have to make sure it’s edible, too,” you glumly replied.

…

It felt like almost an hour passed. You started to get worried—was he really struggling with cooking you something? You imagined the kitchen would be a chaotic nightmare by now, and it was enough to make you want to check on him.

But the moment you decided to get up, the door opened with Dazai bringing in a bowl of hot soup. Surprisingly, you could smell the aroma—and it was good.

“You really underestimated me, ‘bella?” Dazai smirked as he placed the bowl on a portable bed tray. “Bon appétit!”

“I haven’t even tried it yet,” you smiled back. “It might be the worst soup I’ve ever had.”

It wasn’t bad. You hated to admit it, but it tasted delicious.

“The virus must’ve affected my taste buds, too,” you chuckled. “Because for someone whose forte isn’t cooking, this tastes really good.”

Dazai wiped his head with a phew! “I actually…put in a lot of effort. I wanted to make sure I did it all right for you. Sorry it took so long.”

You wanted to hug him. You found it so adorable that he had really taken his time to make you something.

“Awe, thanks, Osamu,” you responded. “This was really sweet.”

“So…do I get a few kisses and back rubs as a thank you?” he asked.

“Sorry, back rubs? I’m the one sick; you should be the one giving me them!”

…

Dazai ended up giving you the massages in exchange for continuing to cling to you without complaint. You accepted and were defeated at this point—the man really wasn’t going anywhere.

He continued to stay with you until you felt better, and very unsurprisingly he spoiled your recovery celebration by becoming sick himself.

“Heh…” he mumbled as you looked at the thermometer with a frown. Contradicting was Dazai with a large smile, despite just finding out he had a fever.

“Your turn, ‘bella!” he exclaimed. “I already called Kunikida saying I’m going to be out for another week! This almost beats a vacation.”

“Osamu!”

“What? Any time spent with you feels just as amazing. And this is just a result of how well I’ve taken care of you.”

CHUUYA wants to make your recovery as comfortable and entertaining as possible—he doesn’t want his darling feeling mopey the entire time. after all, enjoying something distracts one from the botherations of being sick, right?

You hadn’t done as much as you would’ve liked today. Unfortunately, you were sick, but not to the point where you had to visit a doctor or were stuck in bed. It was an inconvenient gray area, where you were still able to do things but accompanied by the mild symptoms of a cold.

“Nah, doll, you’re just a workaholic.”

Chuuya laughed as you pouted while trying to do your laundry. Just because you were sick didn’t mean you should skip your chores. You would probably still go to work the next day, too—as long as you weren’t dying, you’d be alright.

You sort of felt like you were, though. You were overcome by a haze of debilitation, whether you wanted to admit it or not. But you couldn’t just sit around all day.

“I’m fine though, Chuu,” you replied, but a contradicting sneeze immediately followed.

“Your nose is saying something different,” he replied, handing you a tissue. “If you’re so bored, how ‘bout we do something actually fun? And won’t exhaust the life out of you?”

“Well, what are you thinking?” you asked, curious as you wiped your nose.

…

Chuuya had you sat by the table with a bowl and a box of cornstarch.

“Out of all people, it was Q who showed me this.” You raised an eyebrow. “Don’t worry, baby, it’s not dangerous. It’s weird, but I can’t deny this entrances me.”

Chuuya poured some cornstarch into the container and added a cup of water. “It gets a little messy, but…” he started combining the contents until it became a gooey mixture.

You started giggling. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but it definitely wasn’t the sort of crafts experiment you did as a kid.

“Chuu, this is quicksand. You’ve never made it before?”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Quicksand? Nope. But look—if you play around with it, it becomes solid—isn’t that amazing? But if you let it go-“

“It turns back into liquid, yes,” you replied before you sneezed again.

“It’s so weird! What kinda manipulation is this?

You couldn’t help but laugh at how the Port Mafia executive was captivated by such a simple science project. You watched as he played around with the oobleck.

You realized you could live this day simply as well. You proceeded to make your own cool mixture as well.

“You got some on your face,” Chuuya said a little after you were finished with your venture and were washing your hands.

“Where?” you asked, about to touch your head.

“Right here,” you felt his thumb gently rub your cheek and then move around your neck to tug you closer.

“Just kidding.” He stole a kiss in its place.

…

Chuuya sat down on the edge of the bed with his guitar. It was late afternoon, and you decided for once a very needed nap. But not before your lover entertained you with one more thing.

“I’m gonna give ya a little performance.”

He strung his guitar several times and ensured everything was correctly tuned.

Your widened eyes in curiosity made his heart warm. You were so enamored with everything he did—just as he was utterly obsessed with you.

He started playing a familiar tune. Your favorite song. You immediately smiled despite your oncoming headache.

“One day, I think I’ll write my own song for you,” Chuuya said. “You work so hard, how couldn’t you be the inspiration of a ballad?”

You cherished times like these. Even though you were sick, you had the company of the soft, sweetheart side of the Mafia Executive.

FYODOR is full of surprises, and you falling ill is no exception. unexpectedly, he decides to let go of his schemes and responsibilities for the day, to make sure you’re feeling better.

He could already tell by your unusual exhaustion yesterday evening. You didn’t do anything that required more exertion than usual, and it was too frigid in the year for you to feel so hot.

Fyodor already knew you wouldn’t feel so good when you woke up the following day. Your cheeks were flushed, and your head was pounding. It even ached to sit up. It was the worst combination.

Feverishly, you sneezed. A tissue was immediately placed over your nose.

“Blow, milaya.”

You looked up at Fyodor, who was standing by the bed. His amethyst gaze fell upon you—his usual amalgam of tranquility and complacency looked a bit different today…was there a hint of concern shining through his eyes?

You took the tissue from his hands and blew your nose.

“You’re supposed to be at work, no?”

You tried your hardest not to get sick because of this reason. You would be another hassle on Fyodor’s list of endeavors. You hated the thought of contributing, especially when he was already stressed and occasionally neglected his own needs with what he already had to do.

“You would really expect me to when I had to carry you to bed last night?”

The previous evening was a blur. Sometime after dinner, the weather immediately flew over you, and all your energy just drained out.

“Ah.” You sneezed again into the tissue. “Well, I think I’ll be fine on my own. I know you have a lot on your hands. I can take care of myse-“

“Please believe me. You’re not being a burden,” Fyodor cut you off and directly addressed the point you had been dancing around. His hand found yours and started to massage your fingers. He felt ice cold against you—or perhaps, you were on fire.

“Is your throat sore? I’ll make you some tea.”

…

He didn’t leave you alone for too long. Fyodor returned with a cup of hot ginger tea that you immediately took, desperate for some relief for your throat. Your nose was quickly soothed by the warm, sharp aroma of the ginger as you held the mug close to your mouth.

If there was one thing you learned, there was a type of tea for every occasion. Fyodor had an entire cabinet dedicated to those beverages—all precisely arranged.

“Is it alright?” Fyodor asked as you sipped, the liquid alleviating the soreness in your throat.

“Yes, of course,” you replied. “Maybe after I can try to get up…” your voice trailed off as you struggled even to shift your position.

“What’s wrong?” Fyodor moved beside you again as you frowned.

“I feel really sore. Like I ran a marathon without stretching at all yesterday,” you dryly chuckled, even though that had not been the case at all. Your whole body ached; it felt uncomfortable to move anything, and you felt awfully weak.

Fyodor didn’t respond for a moment, thinking.

“You can still entertain yourself without moving. Do you want to read? I’ll bring you to the living room.”

You curtly nodded your head and picked out one of the many books on the large shelf before Fyodor carried you to the sofa in the next room.

“Stay on my lap,” he said, holding you by your waist when you tried to move away.

“I don’t want you to get sick too,” you replied, confused.

“I won’t, don’t worry. Besides, I’m doing a favor for you.”

He motioned for you to enjoy your book and not pay attention to him. So you did as he said—you flipped to the page you left off on and tried to immerse yourself in the plot.

It got easy to do so and lose track of reality because Fyodor started to massage you—hands moving in circular motions on your shoulders to ease and relax the pain on your joints.

You felt both too hot and cold alone on your bed earlier. But here, in the embrace of your lover, you could see the end of your little tunnel of fever.

“Thank you, Fedya,” you whispered sometime after.

…

He got up to do something on his own a little later, but not before tucking you into the softest blankets you owned on the couch. He admired you for a moment right after—a touch of amusement in his eyes.

“What’s so funny?” you asked with a pout. You felt like you were made into a burrito.

Fyodor had thought the same.

“Milashka,” he simply smiled.

You thought he went away to attend to the business he was able to at home—Fyodor was infamous for being a workaholic after all, but you were surprised once again when amidst your reading, you heard a melody coming from the other room. Rich and resonant, you realized he was practicing his cello.

You placed your book down and freed yourself from the warm blankets before making your way over to the next room, disregarding the dull pain that still accompanied you.

Fyodor didn’t pause as you entered and sat down on the piano’s stool. You opened the cover and placed your fingers on the keys before smoothly joining in with the composition you had secretly been learning while he was away so you could play with him.

He probably suspected it anyway, but you still smiled and felt a little pride as you harmonized with him without error—and while sick.

♬♩♫♪

There was a moment of silence after the final note. You felt at peace. The tune made you sleepy.

Fyodor stepped towards you, and you lifted your head to meet his gaze.

“You played it perfectly, lyubov,” he said before kissing your forehead. “How about a nap now as a reward?”

…

After a glass of water and an adjustment of the heater, Fyodor tucked you back under the covers. He checked your temperature with the back of his palm, and he was appeased to find that your fever had noticeably gone down.

You suddenly giggled, catching Fyodor off guard.

“Why are you giggling?”

“I had an observation,” you chirped. You wanted to tell him it was evident he had been stealing physical affection from you throughout the day and that he wasn’t sly, but alas, exhaustion had overcome you again.

You took his own hand in yours. “Wash your hands after,” you whispered before placing a kiss on his fingertips. “This was nice. I feel better because of you staying.”

AKUTAGAWA feels that the roles have been reversed because it is usually him who is sick, and you helping him get better. however, this time it’s you, and so he wants to repay all the care and love you showed him. for once, not to prove something, but to show proof of your adoration towards him.

You didn’t want Akutagawa to visit you that day. You had sent him a text earlier that you were sick—your pneumonia was so severe that you were admitted to the hospital. He immediately rushed over right after.

You told him he didn’t have to—truthfully, half of your heart didn’t want him to because of his already weakened immune system and his tendency to get sick easily.

Yet he still showed up at your bedside with a “get-better” box and pink tulips, a mask covering half his face.

“Ryu, I appreciate this so much,” you told him, a cough accompanying your statement. “But I promise you don’t need to stay—I don’t want you to get sick too.”

He didn’t respond before striding over to the sink as if he were in his own house, grabbing a vase and filling it with water. You watched him trim your flowers, place them in the container, and then putting it on the counter.

“Ryu…”

“You’re in the hospital. Do you think I could just go about my day like my girlfriend isn’t sick?”

Even though his tone was straightforward, his hand gently brushed away the hair covering your eyes.

He was visibly bothered. He hated seeing you in the hospital gown, lying on the bed. He hated the IV line attached to you and the distant beeps! of your vitals. Akutagawa went through this experience more often than not, and if not painful, it was always irritating and unpleasant.

He would never want you going through this, even once.

“Are you comfortable? Should I move you to one of the VIP rooms?”

“That’s not necessary, thank you though,” you replied. You noticed the exhaustive distress in his argentine eyes.

“I’m going to be okay, Ryu,” you reassured him. “I promise. Just don’t touch me for now.”

Akutagawa nodded. “Are you hungry? Is there anything you’re craving?”

“I want…something sweet,” you bashfully replied. “All the hospital food was savory…they missed a dessert.”

You could see the corners of his mouth slightly lift up—an unlikely smile, especially in a place like this. “No explanations are needed. I’ll be back.”

…

He returned with one of the sweets you always picked up whenever you went grocery shopping and a couple of figs for himself. Akutagawa didn’t like sugary things that much, but this fruit he could eat for days. He indeed ate one a day—you were able to observe how long he would be gone on a mission based on how many figs he brought with him.

Akutagawa had brought two today. Was he planning to stay with you overnight? You knew he hated the hospitals—he would never willingly go to one.

Yet here he was, pulling up a chair by your bedside.

“I brought a book,” he said. “Can I read to you?”

“Of course,” you replied. “I didn’t feel like using the TV here anyway, so nothing’s been entertaining.”

The onyx-haired pulled out a book from his coat.

“Once when I was six years old I saw a magnificent picture in a book, called True Stories from Nature, about the primeval forest,” he started.

When Akutagawa was sick, you often read him children’s stories to combat his restlessness. He was calmed by your voice and fell asleep faster than any over-the-counter medication ever worked.

The first time you had found him in the hospital before you were even in a relationship with him, you introduced him to The Little Prince. At first, he scoffed and turned his back the other way, pretending not to listen. But his furrowed brows relaxed, and his frown lifted as you continued with the story—the theme of the openmindedness of children compared to adults, loneliness, love, and loss all gave him something to think about.

Eventually, the book became a source of comfort and light to Akutagawa, and now he had his own copy.

"‘And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.’” By the time Akutagawa had gotten to that part, you had dozed off into a nap.

…

When you finally awoke, the curtains were closed, and the only source of light came from an ambient lamp on the nightstand. And in this night, you also felt a soft pressure on your legs—Akutagawa’s head. He had fallen asleep too, with the book still flipped to a page.

You felt both adoration and woe in your heart. He was sacrificing comfort and possibly his health for you. You desperately felt the need to stroke through his white-tipped raven hair, but you didn’t want to heighten any more chances.

You fell asleep again after minutes of watching your lover’s chest delicately rise and fall, just as he carried his true self without his violent front.

…

Akutagawa stayed until you woke up the following day. He went out to do some errands and then returned with a small gift for you he picked up during the day. That was the routine he followed for the next three days, always content to find you better than the previous day until you were all better.

A nurse came in with a final evaluation and discharged you. You changed into new clothes Akutagawa had brought you before running up and embracing him.

He hugged you back tightly, relieved that you were finally out. He turned to the vase of the pink tulips, which were starting to wither.

“Just in time,” he said.

“The get-well-soon flowers,” you giggled, taking your first good look at them. You loved how he knew of flower symbolism.

“Let’s get out of here,” Akutagawa said, holding out his hand for yours to take. “I despise dwelling in this place any longer.”

SIGMA is worried sick, even though you’re the one sick. how could he not, especially when he isn’t with you? are you feeling alright? drinking enough water? eating well?

“You’re sick?” Sigma asked over the phone.

“Is it my fault? I mean, I was feeling unwell last week, but I got better in a day, so I didn’t think it was that serious…”

“No, it wasn’t; please don’t worry,” you replied. You hated when your lover blamed your problems on himself. “But yeah, it sucks. I even lost my smell! I can’t smell anything.”

“Really?” You sensed his worry through the call.

“Do you need to go to a doctor? I can pick you up and take you there—or I can call the doctor to your house if you’d prefer that-“

“No, it’s okay! It’s not that serious; I’ll be fine in a few days,” you said. “I just wanted to let you know because I won’t be able to see you for a week. But don’t worry about me. I’ll update you.”

“Oh, I see,” Sigma responded. “Alright then.”

Firstly, Sigma was most definitely worried. Secondly, you couldn’t smell? He knew how much you loved the dulcet scents of the desserts he created and the delicate fragrances of your favorite flowers. You must’ve been even a little upset when you realized that sense was gone.

Of course, he wasn’t going to leave you to battle the viruses alone, despite you having just said you didn’t plan to see him until you got better. So, the part lilac, part pearly-haired immediately set out to plan a sweet surprise for you.

…

The next day, Sigma showed up at your front door with a homemade bento box and a few bags of groceries.

“What are you doing here?”

“I at least have to check if you’re eating well.”

One thing that hadn’t changed since meeting Sigma was the butterflies in your stomach feeling. He always showed nothing but ultimate consideration and compassion towards you, treating you like royalty.

“I’m trying,” you replied honestly. “Everything tastes the same. I can’t smell any of it.”

“Maybe it’ll be more appealing if the food looks nice.” With that, he walked to the dining table.

“You haven’t had lunch yet?” You nodded, expectably to him.

“Sit down, love.” He pulled out one of the chairs. You followed him, taking a seat as he prepared your meal—putting a placemat on the table and setting the bento box on top.

You opened the container, and you were revealed with an assortment of the prettiest foods. For the first time this week, you were hungry.

The ones that caught your eye the most were the rice balls decorated to look like chibi versions of you and Sigma. A part of you didn’t want to ruin something so cute.

“What—this is so cute, Sigma! You’re so creative,” you complimented him. “It’s like you cook with magic.”

You noticed Sigma’s cheeks tint a rosy pink. “T-thank you. Go ahead and eat while I prepare your dessert.”

“Dessert?” you asked as you eyed the remaining grocery bags he was holding.

“You’re going to bake here?” You weren’t complaining, but you wondered why he didn’t decide to do it at his place.

“Yeah. That way, it’ll taste the best. Everything tastes the best when it’s freshly baked.”

…

You ended up eating everything. Sigma’s cooking never failed to impress you, even for a previously sated stomach.

“I finished!” you exclaimed, earning a smile from Sigma in the kitchen.

You hadn’t paid attention to what he was making in the meantime. He had put the tray of mystery into the oven a few minutes ago, so you were unable to see what it was.

“It’ll be done in twenty minutes,” Sigma said, walking over to you and taking your hand. “Was it good?”

“Very tasty; I’m full now,” you replied, looking up at him. His ashen eyes shone a gleam of fondness once he made eye contact with you, causing him to fluster again. He was so cute—at times, Sigma still acted like a schoolboy with a crush on you.

“You know your body makes room for dessert,” he noted coyly.

He guided you to stand up, and as you did, a familiar scent softly breezed past you.

The smell of your favorite muffin—and the smell of Sigma’s kitchen. It was faint, but it was there. Your eyes widened in wonder.

“Wait, Sigma—I can smell this!”

Even though it was a bit dramatic, you were cheerful to finally be able to smell any thing after a couple of days. You spun with Sigma around the room in delight. Surrounded by the aroma that made you feel truly at home and the sunrays through the windows, you started to dance together.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” he asked, a bit concerned you were spinning around while feeling unwell.

“Yes,” you reassured him, drawing Sigma into an embrace. “I’m just thrilled right now. I think you’re cooking does have magic.”

…

The muffins were out and looked mouthwatering. Sigma took the first one from the tray and peeled down the wrapper.

“First taste is yours,” he said, taking your palm and placing the pastry in your hand.

“Today, I’ll be Sigma’s food critic,” you joked among the two of you. “He’s baked my favorite muffin—I’m rea-ally picky about this dessert, for your information. So I’m going to be really harsh on this review…”

Catching him off guard, you ate the entire sweet in one bite. You started laughing when Sigma abruptly gasped.

“Mm! That was delicious!” you declared, trying to sound like you were trying this for the first time. However, it contradicted the way you were reaching for a second one. Sigma had made this for you hundreds of times before—there was never one time you refused a muffin from him.

“Eleven out of ten!”

“And so are you,” Sigma added, bopping you on the nose. “If my cuisine does involve magic, then I hope that the food works better than medicine.”

bea’s acoustic songs are always so calming & pretty; in my mind, this is what chuuya plays for me. <3

i saw you said you were sick on the dash this month, i’m glad you’re feeling better by now/feel better soon, this is for you <3 @lovedazai @cheriiyaya @chuuyrr @osaemu @atlasnessie

i heard if you rb, your fav will give you get-well kisses until you feel better !! reblogs are cherished; they are what support me the most <3

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kingkatsuki · 2 years ago

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— heatwave

I’m suffering through the heatwave over here, and Bakugou is the only thing that could make it better or worse.

Warnings: 18+, not proofread, Bakugou is your roommate, sweaty sex, dirty talk, spanking, creampie.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 3.8k.

“It’s too damn hot,” Bakugou growled as he lay the back of his head against the couch. Even the soft, worn fabric was uncomfortable against his back. Retaining more heat than necessary paired with his body temperature it had sweat pooling against his skin.

Life as an up and coming Pro-Hero had been rough. With long shifts, terrible hours and little pay he was stuck in this dingy, stuffy apartment. Waiting for the day he’d add an extra figure onto his paycheck to have enough to move out. Things like air conditioning were a lavish luxury that he couldn’t afford right now, so it meant suffering through the torridness with a small ice pack he’d grabbed from the freezer.

The only bonus was having a roommate like you.

Originally Bakugou had been adverse to living under the same roof as someone, unable to trust anyone living in close quarters with him. There was an entire cacophony of issues that could arise from picking the wrong person— from being kept up all night, the mess they could leave behind to having friends or hookups in his shared space.

But you had been a godsend, understanding of his unsocial work schedule and his house rules. You could even argue that you were a better roommate than he was, with his friends delighting in showing up unannounced and causing a mess in his apartment. Something that you were always so understanding of when you’d join them for movie nights or dinner.

You were a blessing. Or now that he thought about it, perhaps it was a curse. Now forced to watch you practically saunter around in the shortest short shorts known to man in a feeble attempt to try and deal with the extreme temperatures. Your top half not much better, the stringy vest top you wore— without a bra no less— exposed your midriff and the cute stiffened peaks of your nipples. Not that he was looking, and even if he was what did you expect him to do.

Rubbing sweat from his upper lip as he spreads his legs wide on the couch as you made your way into the kitchen, his crimson eyes roaming your figure as the shorts hugged the swell of your ass perfectly. Dipping in between the cheeks as he imagined pulling them apart to see what was hidden between them, the material dangerously close to revealing it to him anyway—

You were doing absolutely nothing to help quell the heat oozing through his body. In fact, Bakugou was certain you were making it worse. His cock jumping at the sight of you, pulsing beneath his shorts as his Adam’s apple bobbed. Praying that this sudden heatwave would cease and he could stop being tortured by the sight of you like this every damn day, it was bad enough when he’d catch peeks of you in a towel coming from the bathroom towards your bedroom, or forgotten panties left strewn around. But this? This was unbearable.

“I can’t deal with this heat,” The whiny tone to your voice had Bakugou silencing a growl deep in his chest, watching you hold the back of your hand to your forehead dramatically, “I wanna sit in the freezer.”

“Don’t you dare.” Bakugou knew from experience the heat alone would be enough to shut down the entire machine, and you both definitely didn’t have enough money to replace it if it did.

And that freezer was the only thing satiating the heat so far. Shoving his melting ice pack against his chest, the contents quickly changing form to liquid as he tried to make the most of it before it would have to go back inside the freezer.

“Let me feel,” You came around the couch to stand in front of him, his eyes set in a heavy glare as he tried to weigh up whether it was worth letting you feel how cold the pack was.

It was bad enough having you so scantily clad in such short proximity to him right now, certain he could now smell the saccharine of your perfume as you pulled the top of your vest down, exposing the swell of your breasts as you presented your sternum to him.

Bakugou pushes the pack to your chest and immediately regrets it when the sound you let out is downright sinful. You have to know what you’re doing to him, the way your lips curl into a delicious looking pout and your eyes roll to the back of your skull.

“Oh god, that feels so fucking good.” You moaned, eyes clenched shut to focus on the cool chill that slowly washed over your chest.

His cock jumps in his shorts as he tries to shift his hips to avoid you from noticing the now very evident bulge, the throb pounding through his veins as he feels a different kind of heat beginning to take over.

He should stop here, take his ice pack back and tell you to go and sit in front of your mini desk fan again. Get you out of the room and as far away as possible and save this for another day, a day when you’re both not delirious from the intense heat.

But his depraved thoughts have already consumed him, the thought of your plush body pressed against his while he slides his throbbing cock inside you now at the forefront of his mind as he presses the pack lower. Watching as you arch your back towards it, welcoming the cool chill as you lean forward to splay your sweaty palms against his thick thighs.

And whether he’s delirious from the heat, or it’s the desperate look in your eyes he doesn’t know. All he knows is he’s kissing you fiercely, the ice pack drops forgotten between your bodies in favour of grabbing your hips.

“Fuck,” You kiss him back, words swallowed by his chapped lips as you feel the bulge between his thighs press snug against your crotch.

Your hands reach up to card through messy blond spikes as your nails graze his damp scalp, your tongue swiped against his as he palms your ass. Calloused fingertips disappear beneath the flimsy fabric as he squeezes the fat of it, tugging you down against his hardness as he pulls more sultry sounds from your throat.

“It’s too hot for this, Katsuki.” You whine, breaking the kiss as you gasp for air in the humid room.

At this chance Bakugou’s lips venture lower, peppering kisses along your jawline towards your collarbones until he reaches the hem of your vest. Tugging the fabric down to reveal your round breasts, his tongue pokes out to wet his lips at the marvellous sight.

His nighttime fantasies can’t compare to the sight in front of him, crimson eyes shamelessly ogle your skin to commit the sight to memory as he leans forward.

“Shut up,” He rasps back gruffly while mouthing your breast.

You’re right, it’s entirely too hot for any kind of strenuous activity, especially when he’s sweating so much it already feels like he’s run a marathon. But the way your soft body feels pressed against his is too much to pass up. Especially when this is what he’s been dreaming about ever since he moved in with you, fisting his cock too. It’s too much to leave it to chance that he may get this opportunity again later. Bakugou’s always been a greedy man, and he wants to have you now.

“Fuck,” You cry out when his teeth graze your nipple, pushing your crotch against his with more urgency.

Certain you’ve leaked through the flimsy fabric, desire surges through you dense and fast. A stark contrast to your lethargic movements as you grind yourself down on his lap pathetically.

“Katsuki,” You whine.

His strong hands are doing all the work as he moves you how he pleases. Strong palms pick you up by the meat of your ass to drop you back down on his length. Grinding your puffy clit against his pelvis with each motion as he has you crying out in pleasure.

“Fuck, Katsu. S’too hot—”

You weren’t sure whether it was the humid air permeating the room or the way that Bakugou was looking at you with smouldering eyes that had your body aflame. Muggy, vapid air filling your lungs as clammy hands stroked along his bare torso. Mapping out a course of newly discovered territory as you let your thumbs brush against his pebbled nipples, his chest vibrating against your touch with more sultry groans.

“I know you are, sweetheart.” He hummed, his fingers brushing the crotch of your shorts, “Let me make you feel good.”

“Oh,” You gasped when you felt the calloused pads stroke your labia, involuntarily leaning forward to give him more space as Bakugou began to spread you apart for him. Fingers gliding through your messy folds, dragging your essence along your slit until he found your puffy clit.

The contact had you jolting forward, nails grazing his chest as he focused his attention on it. Circling it tentatively with the pad of his finger as you began to rock your hips back against him, uncaring about how debauched you looked as you began to seek your own pleasure.

“Yeah?” He rasped, and the gravelly husk did nothing but increase the desperation inside you, “You like that?”

“Fuck, please—“ You buried your head in the curve of his neck, your lips pressed against the slick skin as you tasted the saltiness of his sweat on your tongue.

“Please what, sweetheart,” He cooed.

“Please—“ You gasped when you felt his thumb press against your empty hole. He knew exactly what you wanted, he was toying with you.

“Tell me what you want.”

“Your fingers.” You were shameless, your hips grinding back against him as Bakugou finally took mercy on you and pushed his thumb into your sloppy entrance. The slightest penetration enough to drag a deep moan from your throat as he kept his focus against your clit, leaning his head back against the couch to try and see the blissful expression on your face as he worked you with precision.

“Got no damn idea how long I’ve been waiting to do this,” He husked against your ear, lips soft against the shell as you clenched around him in response, “Always walkin’ round in those fuckin’ short shorts got me wanting to bend you over every surface in this house.”

“Oh fuck,” You mewled, already feeling yourself teetering on the edge of your climax as he kept his pace constant against your clit, his thumb positioned to press against your spongy wall as his other hand tightened its grip on your ass. Spreading you open, as you found your bliss, “Katsuki.”

“That’s it, good girl.” He hummed, feeling your walls pulse around his digit as he kept his pace. Working you through your release as he pressed sloppy, wet kisses to your temple.

You’d lost count of the amount of times you’d wished the same, coming into the kitchen to see him still in full hero gear after work. Dirt and grime covering his body as his mask was pulled up over his forehead to show his blackened eyes, bending over to grab the carton of juice from the fridge as he held it up to his lips to chug it. Watching his Adam’s apple bob as the liquid flowed, giving you the perfect view of him as you tried to busy yourself to hide the fact you were blatantly staring.

Or the moments where he’d come out of the bathroom with a towel slung low on his hips to shout at you for using the taps in the kitchen while he was showering. The cheap apartment had one flow of hot water and it shut off that luxury whenever it was used elsewhere. The cold water catching him off guard as he glared at you, water droplets drooling down his perfect skin and making him look more like an ancient god or deity than your roommate.

“So why didn’t you?” You asked when you’d come down from your high.

“Huh?” Bakugou’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“Why didn’t you tell me how you felt before.”

“I like livin’ with you,” He shrugged, “Didn’t wanna jeopardise that.”

“You wouldn’t have,” You smiled, pulling yourself back from his neck to meet his gaze, “I like you too.”

“That mean I can finally eat this pretty little pussy?” He groaned, shuffling his hips, “Been thinkin’ about it since the day I met you.”

“Later, please—” You pawed at the hard bulge between his thigh, his pre staining the fabric as you pressed against the tip.

“Fuck,” He grunted, shamelessly bringing his fingers to his lips to get a taste of you. His tongue sweeping against his digits to clean them of your slick, “Gonna take you over every damn surface in this house, princess.”

Your fingers curled into the hem of his shorts, Bakugou lifting his hips off the couch to help you drag them down just enough to free his heady cock— the sight of it better than you’d ever imagined in those nightly fantasies.

He was thick and long, bulging veins that forked along the length of him only made him seem that much more intimidating as his balls sat heavy at the base. Neatly trimmed blond hairs decorated his pelvis as they created a pretty trail along his abdomen, unable to resist running your hand along it as his stomach folded at the touch. A sharp hiss sucked sharp through his teeth as you wrapped your hand around him at the base, holding him steady so you could see the tip. The head a swollen pink as pre continued to bead at the slit, drooling down towards his frenulum as you moved to settle between his thighs. Wanting a taste of him yourself as you swiped your thumb over the leaky tip of his cock.

“Oi, I thought you said later,” He teased, rough hands steady on your hips to stop you from moving.

“Please,” You whined pathetically, “Wanna taste you.”

You brought your thumb to your lips as your tongue swiped at the surface, tasting him on your tongue as your lashes fluttered. Crimson eyes focused on your movements as his cock twitched in appreciation, tempted to let you do whatever you pleased. But he’d been waiting far too long for this moment, and there was no way he could wait any longer.

“You little minx,” He groaned as you sucked your thumb, “I promise later.” He groaned, tugging at your shorts, “Do you like these?”

“Yeah, they’re— what the fuck, Katsuki?”

You gasped when you heard the sharp sound of ripping fabric, “I said I liked them.”

“Sorry,” You could tell from the smug grin on his face that he was anything but as he positioned you above his leaky cock, “I gotta have you now.”

You held onto his shoulders as he wrapped a large fist around his cock, dragging the tip through your slick as he felt it catch against your tight entrance. His other hand on your hip slowly dropping you down onto his length as you felt the pleasurable ache of him stretching you open ebb through your pelvis.

“I got you, sweetheart,” He groaned, watching his cock slowly disappear inside you as he felt your warm walls wrap snugly around him, “Gonna take such good care of you.”

You felt hot, the heat radiating from your sex sweltering and yet you didn’t want to let go. The thick girth of his cock filled you perfectly as you felt him pressed against every ridge and groove of your cunt like he was made for you.

Your lips move together languidly, tasting the saltiness from his upper lip as you move together in tandem. Wet and sloppy while his tongue strokes yours, desperation evident by the way you try to deepen the kiss. As though you’re trying to melt into him, to feel him devour you whole.

“Oh, shit.” You choke back a cry when you feel the tip of his cock hit a spot deep inside you, certain you’ve never had something quite so big before.

You struggle to lift yourself up with your legs spread wide over his thick thighs as you grind yourself against his lap. Your clit catching against the trimmed hairs at his base as you roll your hips with desire, your chest pressed taut to his as you start a lazy pace. The scorching heat inside the apartment makes it difficult to breathe as you writhe in his lap, his warm breath fans against your skin almost feels cooler than the thick air clouding the room.

“Kats. It’s too hot.” You whine pathetically, your pace clumsy and sluggish as the desire inside you burns hot and heavy.

“You started this.” He retorts cockily with a smug smirk on his face.

“I did not.” You pout, “This is your fault.”

“Stop whinin’” He reaches back to bring his palm down on your ass in a rough smack, the sweatiness of his quirk has his skin tacking to you as it increases the sensation, clinging to your skin as you gasp in surprise. A painful pleasure courses through your veins as the skin prickles beneath his touch, your pliant walls clamping down around his girth in retaliation.

Without hesitating he reaches his large palms back to cup a cheek in each hand, lifting you up languidly as he marvels the glossy sheen your slick leaves on his cock.

“You just sit there and look pretty, let me do the work.” He spread is thighs wider, giving himself more air as he shifted your weight. Picking you up and dropping you down on his length as he listened to the pretty sounds that spilled from you like a siren, drawing him in and capturing his heart as you pulsed around him.

“Why couldn’t you have got an ice quirk?”

Clammy hands paw at his shoulders as Bakugou repeats the motion, skin tacking to skin as he bounces you on his cock. The kinetic energy builds heat swiftly and harsh as you feel the stickiness against your skin. Your wetness seeps out against his pelvis and matts the hair at his base, catching your clit with each drop of your hips.

“Shut the fuck up,” He scoffed, “You won’t be sayin’ that come winter.”

The thought of having his warm body to warm you during those cold winter months, still being with him then— had you clenching around him.

“Oh yeah? You like the sound of that?” He grinned, “Can feel this pussy clenchin’ around me.”

“Fuck, Katsuki.” The heat was becoming unbearable, radiating from your core as it burned molten lava. The coil inside you dangerously close to snapping as you danced on the crux of your release, gasping for air as he changed tact. Holding your hips tight under sweaty palms as he planted his feet flat on the ground, pistoning his hips up into your pliant sex, “There— oh, god. Right there—”

“That’s it,” He rasped, watching your tits bounce with each rapid thrust, “Fuckin’ beautiful.”

“‘m gonna cum,” You choked out between moans, feeling the curved tip of his cock drag against the spongy spot inside you with each thrust, “Oh shit—”

“Cum for me,” He growled, “Cum all over my cock.”

The tips of Bakugou’s thumbs pressed against your pelvis, tightening his grip as it only increased the pressure. Sweat trickling down your temples as he sent you vaulting over the edge into euphoria.

“Good girl,” He grunted, feeling your walls clamp down around his cock as you willed him to come with you, trying to milk him of his seed.

The pleasure was unlike anything you’d felt before, mind-numbingly intense as you cried out a jumbled mess of his name. Your nails digging crescent moons into his skin as he hissed beneath you, shamelessly searching for his own end as the heat radiated from your body. Sliding against each other from the sweat that now trickled down your skin, leaving a glossy sheen against you both as he used you for his own pleasure.

“I’m gonna cum,” Bakugou grunted, moving to lift you off his cock before you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, unbothered about the stifling heat in the room as you kept him tight against you.

“Cum inside me, Katsuki.” You gasped a he choked back a grunt, your words all it took to meet his own end.

His guttural moans are sinful, erotic as you cling to him with fervour. Committing the sensation to memory as though it’s the last time you’ll have him like this, as if the heat has him in this delirious state. And maybe it does—

You never thought Bakugou could look so pretty like this, completely vulnerable as he exposes his most intimate self to you. Thick, white spurts of cum spurt from his tip as he empties his balls inside you.

“Fuck, baby.” He breathes hot and heavy as you feel his chest rise and fall against yours.

Bodies slumped together on the couch as you feel the dampness of skin against skin, your vest that now sits useless around your waist is soaked and warm as the fabric clings to your body.

“I’m so sticky,” You whine childishly, making no attempt to move as Bakugou’s fingers trace absent-minded patterns along your exposed back.

“How the fuck dya think I feel?” He rasps, “My ass is stuck to the couch.”

“Eww,” You tease, running your nose along his collarbone as you take in the musky scent of him, “We’ll have to get another couch.”

He catches you by surprise as he presses the forgotten ice pack to the back of your neck, although it’s mostly melted it’s a stark contrast to your sweltering body as you flinch in surprise. Your cunt clenches around him at the sensation as Bakugou grunts from the attention.

“Oh shit, don’t do that sweetheart—“ He hisses, wrapping an arm around your back to hold you tight against him, “You’ll make me hard again.”

Something that you’re not sure you’d mind, even though your body is screaming out for a different kind of relief now. Desperate to cool your temperature down as you scrunch your nose in irritation.

“I feel so gross.” You complain as he gives your ass another playful spank as you barely move from the impact, your bodies stuck together with a mixture of heat and sweat.

“Got no one to blame but yourself, princess,” He groans, “I was just mindin’ my business until you came over in those little shorts.”

“You weren’t complaining when you were balls deep.” You moved your head back to glare at him.

“My balls feel like they’re on fire now,” He scoffs, leaning forward to peck your pouty lips, “Cold shower?” He asks, although he’s already decided he’s showering with you— he’s taking every moment he can with you now.

#Bakugou x reader #Bakugou smut #katsuki bakugou x reader #Katsuki bakugou smut

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yanderestarangel · 1 year ago

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✧ 𑂴 𝐒𝐄𝐗 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒 | 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐓 X 𝐅𝐓𝐌 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐓𝐖: v!sex, dirty fantasies, sex dreams, v!sex, porn plot, praise kink, sex in the car, soft!dom mike, ftm reader, creampie.

Mike's concerns were never limited to just family and economic environments, not just capitalism and the concern of keeping his memory and taking care of the only person he had left - Abby - but also romantic parameters, and unfortunately he couldn't cope. get rid of such feelings... Feelings for you.

You were his coworker - always smiling and asking if he was okay or not, it made the security guard's day happier and more comforting, even if you were just being a polite person. Mike was a lonely man with several problems, and even though he was embarrassed, the only escape route he had were erotic dreams about you.

It all started involuntarily, with him going to sleep thinking about how you touched him that day - it was a simple touch on his hand at lunch, but enough for him to feel the heat of your skin transmit to him - Schmidt felt his member throb in his pants when thinking about what it would be like to touch his body, treating him gently, how he could be a little rough with you hitting his dick in your little hole while forcing you to look deep into his eyes giving him more motivation to continue hitting your body with his hips, he was already a hostage to his own desires.

"-Oh fuck..." he whispered, still in a state of deep sleep, sweat ran down his forehead while a hand went against his erection, instinctively while goosebumps formed on his skin. The image of your pussy, your body, your face, slowly riding and slobbering on his dick was too vivid-just a fantasy in his brain, but it was a fantasy he couldn't lie about that was pleasurable in every way.

The days passed more and more tortuously... Every touch, smile and conversation, every reverberation of your voice was enough for Mike's brain chemistry to change and everything to spin, his dick was pulsing in his pants and he needed some relief or simply asking you out - he didn't just want sex, but sex was also included in his intense and lustful passion for you - so, the man asked you to have a beer and take a walk around, a calm stroll through the monotonous small town night, no worries, no more fantasies, something real and invigorating; That was all Mike wanted.

His car was a hot and stuffy space, but the cold, bitter sip you took every moment from the beer bottle made your system cool a little. Mike seemed genuinely cheerful after a while, smiling widely and telling bad jokes that made you smile at his cute attempt to distract you from his poor choice of first date location... After all, even if he didn't make it clear, it was a date. Schmidt soon began to make you more comfortable with small respectful touches, some caresses on your thighs, cheeks or even a quick kiss on the forehead, while he leaned against the bench and looked at you with his black eyes, resting his face on his closed wrists.

"-You know... I always thought you were a pretty boy." Mike spoke in a husky voice filled with desire underlying whatever fear stood in the way of the advances he hadn't made. Then, everything was too fast for your brain to process - Mike above you, his hands were holding your thighs with your ankles resting on his shoulders, his thick, pulsing cock was moving in and out of your pussy, his hands were squeezing your soft flesh until that his fingertips were white - it was a way for the poor man to feel that you were actually real, not just another comforting dream he'll have as the months go by -

"-That's it... My boy is taking my cock so well... Damn (Y/N) you're so fucking tight." Mike moaned loudly as he removed his shaft from your core, only to rub it against your clit, making you moan his name even more - he slowly thrust back in making each movement count, making you arch your back for more fiction.

"-S-So fucking cute- oh fuck baby boy, do you know how much I dreamed about fucking you? How much I wanted that pussy wrapped around my dick?" He confesses between moans, he didn't really care anymore if what he said was dirty or immoral, he needed to let you know how much he wanted you. "-I just wanted to fuck you, turn you into mine, filled with my cum..."

Mike expected to see some sign of repulsion or disgust, but you just moaned and rubbed your own clit, looking for more of that forbidden and newly discovered pleasure. "-You always wanted this... deep down you knew I would never resist you." You wrapped your arms around him, holding on for dear life as he fucked you senseless.

He grabbed an arm, pulling your body closer to him as he continued to ravage your pussy relentlessly. His breathing became difficult and sweat ran from his forehead to his, mixing in an erotic dance. "-Fuck, beautiful boy, squeeze that little pussy on my dick- yes! Fuck exactly like that, good boy, such a good boy for me-!" You soon felt your cunt milking Mike to the last drop of sperm, feeling your walls close around him - He grunted loudly, spilling everything into your uterus.

"-Take it all, take my load like the good boy you are."

You soiled the antique leather seats beneath you, but he didn't care about the mess at that moment, just slowly pulling out of you and lowering himself between your legs, placing kisses on your aching pussy and leaking his cum.

"-You don't know how much I'm in love with you baby..." He looked deep into your eyes, and by the glow you saw in his orbs - he was obviously being sincere, the world stopped and it was just you and Mike that moment, and that was all he needed at the moment... You.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 19 days ago

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Happy Saturday, my friend! Your new header looks so nice btw. Love all our boys featured. 💜💜

Ok, you ready for Random Question time?? 😘 I recently did an HC on "Man Flu" (how would Dean, Beau, SB/Ben, and Priestly act when you try to take care of them?). How do you think the boys would take care of the reader when she's sick? **Could be Russell instead of Priestly this time.~

Happy Sunday! I meant to respond to this yesterday but I was on a roll writing a few other things so figured I'd save this for a nice Sunday morning activity. Aw, thank you! I changed it up a little (thank you for the header dimensions btw) and added everyone I write for. I might still tweak it some more but I'm pleased with it for now!

Oooooh good question! Once again, these turned into mini-imagines on me but oh well!

How They Take Care Of You When You're Sick

Dean Winchester

If Dean had a business card it'd read, Hunter. Badass. Professional Worrier. The second he hears a sniffle followed by a clearing throat, he knows what's coming. You'd protest that it's nothing, just a scratchy throat but oh, he knows better. He'd nursed Sam through a childhood of colds to know the difference.

He calls up another hunter to take your hunt to your annoyance but by the evening you're feeling run down. Dean sends you to take a hot shower, your head throbbing the whole time. The hot steam helps a little bit and he's laid out a pair of warm fuzzy pajamas for you change into. You sniffle and carry the box of tissues he left on the counter with you to the bedroom where Dean's propped up extra pillows and gotten out the green flannel blanket you used the nights the bunker got too cold.

"Hungry?" he asks a moment later, carrying a tray in his arms. You shake your head and crawl under the covers, keeping your tissues on the other side of the bed. He hums, setting it down on your bedside table which has been cleared free of books, your chapstick, extra hair ties and phone charger.

He looks like a walking pharmacy, smirking as he watches you watch him pour two green pills into a tiny plastic cup. You don't question it when he hands them to you, letting you take them before handing you a paper cup filled with cool water. You frowned when he stuck a thermometer in your ear, Dean pouting for a split second before jotting it down on a notepad.

"Little fever. Probably going to go up before it comes down. We'll keep an eye on it." You sighed, already regretting every time you took for granted the ability to breathe through a clear nose. "We'll try soup and crackers tomorrow."

"Yes mom," you mumbled, slumping down, Dean chuckling and fixing your blankets. "I'm really okay."

"Beautiful as always, sweetheart," he said, kissing the top of your head when you groaned. "Now get some sleep for me."

"I'm not even tired. S'just a stuffy nose." Dean rolled his eyes, sitting on the edge of the bed for a few minutes as he watched your eyelids flutter closed, breathing slow and become rhythmic.

"Sleep easy, sweetheart."

Beau Arlen

When you sneezed three times in succession in the bathroom that morning, Beau shot you a look in the mirror. You just smiled, Beau returning to combing his hair. It was probably just allergies you told yourself. Montana had a lot of plant life that was active in the spring after all.

But when you got home from work, your body was achy, you felt hot and cold at the same time, and you barely changed out of your work clothes into some sweats and Beau's shirt before passing out on the couch.

You woke up when the windows were dark, Beau frowning down at you.

"Hi," you screeched out, wincing at the sound. "How was-"

"I mean this in the nicest way possible, honey, but I've seen corpses that have better color than you." You sat up with a pout, narrowing your eyes.

"That wasn't very nice," you coughed, putting a hand to you chest, doubling over when you hacked.

"You're still a very cute corpse," he joked, rubbing your back. "We're going to the hospital."

"Arlen, n-n-nooo-" You wracked your body, a wet phlegmy sound escaping as you swore you spit up something onto your pants. You glanced up, Beau giving you a bitch face. "Urgent care instead?"

"Hospital. I have to abuse my power as sheriff somehow," he said.

"Beau, I'm fine," you said, his eyebrow raising as you could literally feel the layer of sweat cover your body. You spotted the thermometer on the coffee table behind him, looking back up. "I'm fine."

"I'll make sure to put that on your gravestone," he said, scooping you up bridal style, grabbing your slip on boots by the front door.

"Beau," you groaned, coughing into his chest, body trembling. "It's the flu. I'm fine."

"I'll make sure to include how stubborn she was on there too," he'd say. Thirty minutes later, he'd sit beside your bed, peeling the sweaty hair that was stuck to your face away behind your ear. "How you feeling?"

"....Maybe I was dehydrated...and had a high fever," you mumbled, Beau smiling. "How'd you know?"

"Because I have to tie you down to the bed when you're sick to get you to rest. Literally. The fact you were practically comatose told me you were not doing well, Ms. Fine."

"I'm right as rain," He hummed, helping you sit up when you coughed. "Okay, maybe I'm a little off."

"Baby steps," he said to himself with a smile. "Baby steps."

Soldier Boy

Soldier Boy was not the most...emotionally available man to put it gently. He tried, he really did, but there were certain facts of life you'd come to expect. The man couldn't do a load of laundry to save his life. He got annoyed whenever you asked him to do something that wasn't on his side of the chore chart. If you went out of town, your chores sat idle and well, you knew the first time you got sick, it'd be more of the same.

But on that particular morning, he was giving you a strange look before you could even pour yourself a cup of coffee. You didn't feel great but you could handle a cold.

"Morning."

"Lay down." You tilted your head, Soldier Boy across the kitchen and ripping the mug from your hands. "Go lay down!"

"What are-" You were whisked off your feet, Ben moving way too fast through the house before he set you down like a feather on the mattress. "Ben, honey. I'm not in the mood right-"

"Something's wrong with your breathing," he said, pushing you to lay back. He narrowed his eyes, pressing a finger against your chest. "Your pulse is off too."

"Ben," you said, reaching for his hand as he pulled out his phone. "I have a cold. An itty bitty cold. Don't freak out. I'll take it easy but you got to let me out of bed. I've got work."

He looked at you like you'd grown another head, his head shaking. "Ben-"

"No," he snapped. You sat back against the headboard, his hand clenching. "Your body is not right. Tell me what to do to fix this."

"Ben," you said gently. "Time is the only way it goes away. I'll feel bad for a week and then I'll be better. Okay?"

"My mother used to tell me to rest," he said, almost as if he hadn't heard you. He went to the bathroom, returning with a wet washcloth. He yanked on your leg so you were laying more, quickly pressing the washcloth to your forehead. "What else, what else..."

"Ben," you laughed with a tired smile. You grabbed his wrist, smiling up at him. "You want to take care of me?"

"You are not getting out of this bed until your breathing is normal again." You smirked, Ben pouting. "I don't see how this is funny."

"You're right. You can take care of me if that's what you really want."

By the end of the week, Ben had driven you nuts in the best possible way. He hovered constantly, practically setting up a guard station at the bedroom door. He bought a twelve pack of lotion tissues and about 15 bottles of cold medication you told him to return but the man didn't understand you weren't meant to drink the whole damn thing at once. He'd taken to vacuuming and dusting and scrubbing everything down at least twice a day to "suck the germs out of the air" as if that'd suddenly make you no longer ill.

"Benjamin," you said as he changed your sheets for the eighth time that week. You smiled from the chair in the corner of the bedroom, Ben popping his head up.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you said, resting your head against your shoulder. "You make a pretty good nurse."

"Pft, I'm not a nurse. When you're better, don't expect me to pull this crap all the time." You hid your smirk, Ben's eyes glancing down like he did when he was hiding his emotions. You could work on that next.

"Whatever you say, baby."

Russell Shaw

"Oh, no." You wiped your nose, frowning to yourself. A cold. Great. You didn't get sick often but god, you knew how miserable of a person you turned into when you were. At least it was Friday.

By the time work was over, you were ready to veg out in bed with your laptop and a cup of soup.

You stilled when you entered your apartment, an assortment of medicine, tissues, soups, fuzzy socks and a teddy bear sat on your kitchen island. You looked around, grabbing the pepper spray in your purse as you walked around, searching for a sign of your thoughtful intruder.

"Gonna use that-"

You screamed, Russell laughing as he caught your wrist before it could whip around and spray him in the face. "Russell. You scared me."

"Really? Had no clue," he laughed, taking the pepper spray away, giving you a quick hug. "How you feeling?"

"How'd you know I'm sick?" He pointed behind himself to the camera on your front table. "I thought you were in Guatemala. No cell service."

"I was. Doesn't mean I don't check in on you. You have a habit of getting kidnapped-"

"Once, Shaw. Once!" you said holding up a finger. He grinned, taking your bag off your shoulder. "And that was your brother's fault."

"The crew wrapped up the issue quick so I could get back home. Told them you were on your death bed."

"How much did they tease you about being smitten?" you asked, Russell looking past you with a smirk. "Don't do dumb things just to get home faster. It's just a little cold."

"Okay boss but I'm here now and I come bearing gifts. Tell me what you need from me. You want me to coddle you or get the hell out?"

"I'm going to change. Some chicken noodle soup maybe?" He hummed. Fifteen minutes later, you were sat at the kitchen table wearing one of his Rolling Stones hoodies, Russell setting a bowl down in front of you. "Thanks, hun."

"No problem. I'll be back in a few." You'd finished your soup and made your way to the couch by the time he returned, freshly showered. His damp hair was slicked back, lifting your legs on the couch and resting them in his lap "Want to watch something or sleep?"

He'd wait a beat, turning his neck to smile at your sleeping form. "Sleep it is."

_______________

These were so fun and just the break I needed! Please let me know if you guys think these are accurate! 🥰

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #the boys #soldier boy x reader #big sky #beau arlen x reader #beau x reader #russell shaw x reader #tracker #headcanons

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goatgoesmbe · 26 days ago

Note

Can I offer a cute thing? (Or if you find a way to make it spice, go ahead…)

Ghost or soap or both taking care of you while you’re sick? Ghost would actually know what to do, water, made soup, cold towel on your forehead, big man babying you back to health. Soap would 100% get sick as well cus he insisted on kissing you lol

tw: stalking (wait a minute- i just realized this aint 100% cute)

Hazy eyes, nose stuffy, body curled up in your seat as you tried to focus on your work.

That's what they saw through your webcam. You, who were too stubborn to rest and stayed loyal by your PC instead letting your body properly heal.

Soap didn't even wait for the others to discuss what to do, because they still have a job to focus on- but they couldn't exactly let you be either. The sergeant was gone immediately before his captain could even say anything.

The older man could only sigh and send the one who was used to looking after the Scot, making sure Soap behaved..

The other two wanted to go too of course, but someone needed to stand by and actually do their job.

So here you were, eyes wide as you stared at two men who you've only met recently.

You didn't get the chance to even think about how they knew where you lived- let alone getting in because you were so sure you locked your door twice. Your brain was fried from the amount of tasks you had done and needed to be done, also from the pounding headache that still persisted despite the amount of paracetamol you took.

No, before you could process what happened, Ghost gestured at you to Soap, and the latter was immediately on you.

Just then, you protested. But your complaint fell on deaf ears as Soap shushed you, lifting you up before sitting you in his lap, pinning you to his chest so you couldn't move.

You stayed like that for a moment, slurring your words as you told Soap to let you go. But he only cooed and tightened his hold around you, cuddling in bed as Ghost was out preparing everything needed to take care of you.

And even when the lieutenant was back, Soap refused to let you go. Ghost didn't say anything against it, knowing Soap would whine and you would insist on going back to your PC if he did.

So he took care of you like that, with a clingy man wrapping his strong limbs around your body like a boa constrictor. Ghost put a wet towel on your forehead, spoon-fed you a warm chicken porridge, before tilting your chin up as he held a glass of water to your mouth.

Their combined affections got you feeling fuzzy inside, the thought about being angry with them for breaking into your place slowly dissolved in your mind.

When you yawned, Ghost finally told Soap to let you go so you could lay comfortably. The latter complied, and let you drift into dreamland after planting soft kisses all over your face

And yes, the sergeant got sick the next day

#call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod #soap cod #ghost cod #soap x reader #ghost x reader #mbe ask #mbe's soap #mbe's ghost

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gracie-eilish · 3 months ago

Text

feel better sweet girl

☁️🩵🌙🫧💤

The relentless chill of winter had left you with a cold that clung to you for days, making your nose stuffy and your voice hoarse. To make matters worse, a stomach bug had hit you out of nowhere, leaving you completely miserable. Your body felt like it was fighting a war on two fronts, and all you wanted was to crawl back into bed and stay there until the world decided to be kind again. Thankfully, Billie was there, ready to take care of you.

You were curled up on the couch under a mountain of blankets, your hair a mess and your face pale, with a tissue box and a trash bin close by. Billie walked in from the kitchen carrying a tray with a steaming mug of ginger tea, a small bowl of plain crackers, and a glass of water. She’d already made it clear you weren’t lifting a finger today.

“There’s my sick little cutie,” she cooed, setting the tray down on the coffee table. She crouched beside you, brushing a strand of hair from your face and frowning softly. “How’s my babygirl feeling now?”

“Like garbage,” you muttered, your voice scratchy. “Cold garbage.”

Billie pouted, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “Aw, mamas. That’s not fair. You’re too cute to feel this bad.”

You cracked a weak smile despite your misery. “Flattery isn’t gonna make my stomach stop hating me.”

“No,” she admitted, “but it might make you smile. Which it just did. So, technically, I’m doing amazing.”

You rolled your eyes at her cheeky grin, but you couldn’t deny how much better she made you feel just by being there. Billie grabbed the mug of tea and held it out to you. “Here, love. Sip on this. Ginger’s supposed to help with nausea.”

You sat up slowly, Billie steadying the blankets around you as she helped you get comfortable. The tea was warm and soothing, even if you weren’t sure your stomach would appreciate it. She watched you closely, her blue eyes full of concern.

“Good girl,” she murmured when you managed a few sips. “Now, crackers. They’re boring as hell, but they’ll help settle your tummy.”

You gave her a look. “You’re really selling this whole recovery thing, babe.”

She grinned, leaning over to kiss your cheek. “You’re lucky you’re cute, or I wouldn’t be so patient.”

“Patient?” you teased weakly. “You’re enjoying bossing me around.”

“Maybe a little,” she admitted with a wink, holding up a cracker. “Open up, mamas.”

You groaned but obliged, taking the cracker from her hand and nibbling on it. Billie smiled proudly, like she’d just achieved something monumental. “See? We’re making progress.”

Once she was satisfied you’d eaten and sipped enough tea, Billie settled onto the couch beside you, pulling you into her lap and tucking the blankets around you both. She pressed a kiss to your temple, her hands rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“Poor baby,” she murmured, her voice soft and sweet. “I hate seeing you like this.”

“I hate being like this,” you muttered, leaning into her warmth. “Everything hurts.”

“I know, love,” she said, kissing the top of your head. “But I’m here. You don’t have to do anything but rest, okay? Let me take care of my babygirl.”

You felt a lump rise in your throat at her tenderness, but you quickly swallowed it down. Crying would only make your stuffy nose worse. Instead, you snuggled closer to her, letting her love and care wrap around you like a second blanket.

As the day went on, Billie didn’t leave your side. She brought you more tea, held your hair back when you had to run to the bathroom, and even changed into matching pajamas just to make you smile. When you started shivering despite the mountain of blankets, she pulled you into her arms and held you tight.

“God, you’re freezing,” she said, her voice filled with worry. “Come here, lovie.”

She rubbed your arms and shoulders, pressing kisses to your cheeks and forehead in between. “You’re like a little ice cube,” she teased, though her concern was still evident. “My poor little popsicle”

“You’re too good to me,” you mumbled with a small smile, your head resting on her shoulder.

“Of course I am,” she said with a cheeky grin. “You’re my baby. It’s my job to spoil you.”

By the evening, you were completely drained, barely able to keep your eyes open. Billie had coaxed you into eating a little more, promising you’d feel better with something in your stomach. Now, she was brushing your hair back gently, her fingers working magic as she played with the strands.

“Love,” you said weakly, your voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to keep fussing over me.”

She leaned down to kiss your nose. “I’m not fussing. I’m pampering. Big difference.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with love for her. “Thank you, Billie. For everything.”

Her blue eyes softened, and she cupped your cheek, her thumb brushing against your skin. “Always, baby. I’ll always take care of you.”

She kissed you then, her lips soft and warm against yours. It was a gentle, lingering kiss, full of love and reassurance. When she pulled back, she smiled down at you. “Now, let’s get you to bed, mamas. You need some real rest.”

You nodded, too tired to argue. Billie helped you to your feet, wrapping an arm around your waist as she guided you to the bedroom. Once you were tucked into bed, she climbed in beside you, pulling you close and wrapping you in her arms.

“I love you,” she murmured, her lips brushing against your ear. “My sweet girl.”

“I love you too,” you whispered, already drifting off to sleep. With Billie’s warmth and love surrounding you, the misery of the day seemed a little more bearable.

☁️🩵🌙🫧💤

#billie eilish #wlw #billie eilish fluff #fanfiction #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x you #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish fic #fluff

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chigirizzz · 2 years ago

Text

first kiss

characters: isagi, bachira, sae

gn! reader, not proofread so there might be some mistakes, anxiety attack (bachira's)

— ISAGI YOICHI

"stop," you told isagi when he approaches you in front of the school.

his smile disappears and he stops beside you, his body turned towards you. you continued to stare straight ahead, focused on the rain that showed no sign of letting up. "huh? what did i do?"

“you’re sick. stay away from me." your behavior didn't change, in fact, you were quite afraid that you were too rude or anything, but any remorse vanished when you heard your boyfriend's laugh. "why are you laughing?!"

"you're funny."

"and you're sick. stay away at least four meters. you know i get sick easily."

"i'll take care of you if that happens."

surprise took over you at his words; isagi yoichi always has been and always will be a pretty awkward guy—something that you didn't mind and in some occasions you found it cute—, which meant he wasn't the best at words, whether he was the one saying them or receiving them. he was more of actions and thoughts, not words.

there were times, however, when isagi yoichi pulled a special card and made your heart feel warm with simple actions or sentences and with absolutely no shyness.

this was one of those times. and as you stare—no, admire him with stars and hearts in your eyes, you feel guilty with how you kept a distance that school day just because he was sick, thinking that he wouldn't be offended. not exactly offended, but he wasn't happy either.

"yoichi…" you said. "i'm sorry. why are you such a good partner…"

he smiled and gave your head a few pats. "you're so silly."

"if i do get sick, make me a chicken soup."

it was an innocent joke, so you didn't expect him to suddenly kiss you. lips on lips for the first time, a moment that you never thought it would be like that. you responded to the kiss. it was a bit awkward since it was both of your first kisses, but it felt good.

afraid that he needed to stop to breathe some air (due to his stuffy nose), you tried to step away, with no vail because his hand landed on your lower back and pulled you closer to him gently, his lips now more hungry for yours.

he just pulled away when your hand touched his cheek—even if it was a gentle touch, the temperature difference between your warm hand and his cold cheek gave him a little thermal shock.

"now you'll get sick for sure," he says with a smile and pink cheeks.

"idiot. i love you."

— BACHIRA MEGURU

your legs started running to the boys' restroom as soon as you finished reading the message on your phone; your head filled with worry for your friend who was apparently hiding in one of the stalls having an anxiety attack.

these moments of his fragility were relatively common for you. bachira meguru had you as his best and only friend, so it was normal to notice when his insecurities and his loneliness got the best of him — and the times he got into unnecessary fights.

these were moments you were used to, but they still worried you a lot.

the restroom was quiet and empty, only one of the stalls had its door closed so you figured it was your best friend.

you knocked on the stall door. "bachira? are you here?"

...

"bachi-"

"come in."

you entered the stall as soon as he opened the door. the space was cramped and not very hygienic, which made the boy more suffocated, anxious, but he knew that your presence, although it contributed to a more enclosed space, made him feel safe.

"it's okay, bachira. i'm here, you're safe," you reassured him, your thumb caressing his hand, kneeling in front of him while he sat on the floor with his back against the wall.

"they made fun of me again." his hand now held yours, squeezing it from time to time. a bitter smile took over his lips. "i feel so alone..."

"you're not alone, bachira, you have me and your mother. the others are stupid people who aren't worth it," you said. "remember the exercise we've already done. let's start—five things you can see."

“eh…” he looked around; there wasn’t much inside a school bathroom but you could make it work. “my shoes.”

“and what are your shoes like? analyze them," you told him with a soft tone of voice to help him calm down.

minutes passed. you didn't know how long you and bachira stayed in the restroom but the absence of noise from other students confirmed that you were currently skipping a period. who cares.

you helped the boy with the exercise, occasionally having to imagine objects for him to detect because again, there wasn't much inside a school bathroom…

he was slowly feeling better, and you knew this for sure because when you asked him for the second thing he could smell, he answered piss.

"it's true though~," he teased you and his nose sniffed. his eyes were getting less red.

"yeah but i don't want to think about urine right now, meg." a sight escaped your lips; nevertheless, his answer didn't actually bother you, you enjoyed his jokes even if sometimes made you question his sanity. "let's just move on."

"ok~ what's next?"

"one thing you can taste."

"watch me lick the toilet!"

"no!" you flicked his forehead to which he just giggled. "there must be something in here you can try. let me check my backpack."

"no need, y/n."

you faced him confused, hands inside your backpack trying to find a snack. "why not? we're almost done—"

you felt a pair of hands grabbing your shoulders and being pulled forward—face to face to bachira, to be precise.

"because i think i know what i want to taste. it's in front of me right now." his low voice and vibrant yellow colored eyes made you at a loss for words. he was so close to you, closer than he has already been, that you could feel your skin tingle, legs slightly weak and your chest moving up and down slowly. what… "do i have the permission to kiss you, y/n?" he asked, thumb brushing your lower lip.

"i…" oh god. "yeah." you nodded.

and so he did.

despite his confession and gaze being gentle, the kiss was the complete opposite. his lips literally crushed into yours, the sudden force of his body making your back slamming into the stall door—and his reaction? he smirked.

you weren't sure if it was his first kiss, but since he never told you about his romantic life, you assumed it was. in fact, something tells you that the boy practiced his kissing skills on a mirror to try on you later on.

it was also your first kiss, so you couldn't judge.

your hand is now between the back of his neck and the back of his head, lightly pulling and playing with his hair.

everything was going well, so well it took you a few seconds to notice the hot tears falling down his cheeks.

"meguru, what's wrong?" your hand caressed his cheek. "are you ok? is something wrong?"

"i love you. i love you so much," he cries and rests his head on top of your chest. "thank you for being there for me."

"awn, i love you too." you played with his hair gently, fingers fixing the knots on his hair. "and i'll always be there to protect you."

"promise?"

"promise."

— ITOSHI SAE

itoshi sae wasn't the easiest person to put up with, which is why you were extremely confused when he first confessed to you and asked you on a date like it was nothing. still, in your five months of dating, you didn't regret anything. you loved him, he loved you.

however, there was something bothering you: you never kissed each other. but calm down, the issue wasn't exactly "he never kissed me"— the issue was that itoshi sae once told you he wanted your first kiss as a couple to be magnificent, magical and capable of leaving everyone's jaws on the floor.

it made you wonder for weeks how the kiss would be. it made you wonder so much for so long you eventually thought he forgot about it.

boy were you wrong.

sae didn't lie when he said he wanted it to be magical and leave everyone's jaw on the floor.

it happened at the end of one of his games, he scored the final goal and as soon the end of the match was announced, he ran towards you—you who were watching the whole time wearing his jersey, shouting his name—and kissed you slowly but passionately in front of everyone—his team, the opposite team, the fans, the cameras, everyone.

although your boyfriend always preferred a private relationship, he also wanted to show the world how much he could love someone. there was a bit of possessiveness on him.

there was a bit of possessiveness on him, as his lips left yours so they could kiss your neck, not caring how much it tickled you.

he then kissed your cheek and left without saying anything; there wasn't anything to be said, but the media for sure will say a lot of things.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock fluff #sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #sae fluff #itoshi sae fluff #bllk x reader #bllk fluff #isagi x reader #yoichi isagi x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi fluff #isagi yoichi fluff #bachira x reader #bachira meguru x reader #bachira fluff #meguru bachira x reader

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arlana-likes-to-write · 3 months ago

Note

hii can i get some carol danvers x fem reader comfort/fluff?? love ur work! if not no worries :)

Sickness and Health

Summary: The cardinal rule of friends with benefits was to not catch feelings. It's a simple rule that you and Carol seem to break.

Warning: implied sex, sickness, small amounts of angst, medical procedure, blood transfusion, love confession, fluff and comfort. mention of past abuse

Word count: 2.5k

Carol knew she had no right to be worried. It wasn’t like you and her were dating. The relationship between you and her was purely physical. You were the one to approach the captain after too many flirtatious comments at Avenger parties. Purely sex with no feelings involved. Since Carol was always off Earth, she had no time for a real relationship. It looked like you weren’t looking for anything serious - just a warm body you could turn to.

However, Carol broke the cardinal rule of friends with benefits - do not catch feelings. It seemed impossible when it came to you. You were beautiful and caring, and your heart was so big. There was a warmth about you that Carol couldn’t ignore.

Now, she was worried that you missed training. It was 2 o’clock, and she still hadn’t seen you. Standing from her spot on the couch, she made her way to your room and knocked on the door. There was no sound or movement from the other side. Luckily, your door was unlocked. She wondered if Friday unlocked the door because the AI sensed her urgency. Darkness welcomed her, which again was odd. With her advanced senses, she heard you in your bedroom.

Quietly, she walked over and pushed the door open. Now, she understood why you were MIA. Tissues were discarded around you, and your nose was red from the constant blowing. The way you were breathing concerned Carol; each breath sounded painful and stuffy. Above all else, Carol found you cute. Clearly, you were sick, and she wanted to help.

First, she picked up the used tissues and threw them away. Second, she refilled your water and made you a new cup of tea. You liked your tea sweet, with two teaspoons of sugar and honey. Carol made it for you a few times in the morning. Once she placed the drinks on your side table, she went through your medicine cabinet, which was bare. Typical, Carol thought.

“FRIDAY, can you put in an order of cold medicine and some soup?” The AI agreed to her order and walked to your side of the bed. There was enough room for her to sit down. You were still fast asleep. You only stirred when Carol placed her hand on your forehead. Shit. You were warm.

“C-Carol,” your eyes fluttered open.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Carol smiled. “And here I thought you were ignoring me.” You rolled your eyes and turned on your side.

“You are so full of yourself, Danvers,” you whispered. “What are you doing here?”

“You’re sick,” Carol said simply.

“I’m not sick. I don’t get sick,” Gods above you were so stubborn. Before Carol could respond, a violent cough ripped through you. The captain helped you sit up and rubbed soothing circles on your back. Once the coughing fit stopped, you slumped against her. All your strength seemed to disappear.

“You were saying,” Carol chuckled. She couldn’t help herself as she kissed your forehead.

“Shut it,” you mumbled and leaned closer and closer. A shaky sigh left your lips. “I’m cold,” you pouted.

“That’s the fever talking,” she said gently as she laid you back down in bed. This was a stark contrast from the other times Carol had laid you down in bed. She hated how much she enjoyed the soft intimacy of it all. “The medicine should help with that,” she said as she stood to leave. You grabbed her wrist to stop her.

“You don’t have to do this,” you said. “You don’t have to take care of me.” You missed the frown on Carol’s face with your eyes closed. This version of you was something Carol wasn’t used to. You carried yourself with so much confidence sometimes Carol forgot about your past. HYDRA found you after your family home burnt to the ground. They offered you a safe place and a family to replace the ones you lost. Instead, they created you into their weapon.

“I know. I don’t have to,” Carol sat back down. “But I want to.” You opened your eyes as Carol pulled the blanket off of you. She smiled softly when you wined. “Fever. Remember, baby,” you nodded with a sigh. “Good, I’ll be right back.” Carol leaned down and kissed your cheek. “Sickness and health, right?” The captain teased. You scuffed and rolled your eyes.

“That’s for marriage, you idiot,” you sipped the tea. Carol caught when you realized she made it just how you liked it. The way your face lit up was cute. “We aren’t even dating.” It was odd how such a simple sentence, which was the truth, caused a bit of confusion in Carol’s stomach.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

When Carol returned, you were leaning against your headboard with barely open eyes. The sight before you made your heart flutter. It was very domestic, but you pushed it away. You couldn’t cross that line no matter how hard Carol made it. She put the bowl of soup down, measured the liquid medicine, and pushed it into your hand. The smell was gross. It made your stomach turn. You looked at Carol with a pout. “I know,” she cooed. “But it will help. Then you can eat and go back to bed.”

Now, that sounded nice. Like a shot at one of Tony’s bars, you took the medication in one go. You shivered in disgust at the taste and chased the taste with some water. “Good girl,” Carol praised and kissed the side of your head. You hated the way your body heated up from the praise. Carol handed you the soup next. It smelt amazing, and the warmth helped push away the coldness you were feeling. Gods, you were hungry, but it seemed impossible to eat.

It took a few more praises from Carol for you to finish half the soup. After a few more sips of water, you laid back down with your eyes closed. You heard Carol shuffle around your room, then climb into bed beside you. You wanted to protest when she pulled you into your arms. The last thing you wanted was for her to catch whatever you had. With a mixture of the cold medicine, the sickness, and Carol’s warmth, you were fighting to stay awake. But your mind wouldn’t let you sleep. With her arm over your stomach, you turned into her and rested your face on her chest.

“Why are you doing this?” You asked, your voice a little muffled, but you knew she heard you.

Her answer was the same as before. “Because I want to,” she answered. “Sickness and health, right?”

Yeah, sickness and health.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Many people called you lucky. You were fortunate to be alive when your family home burned to the ground. Lucky to have survived the abuse from HYDRA. Lucky to have landed at the doorsteps of the Avengers instead of at the RAFT or six feet under. You never thought you were lucky. Instead, the universe liked to test you. The universe wanted to know how much you could withstand before you broke.

With that luck, you were in med bay when FRIDAY alerted the team’s medical staff returning. Your heart stopped when the AI said Captain Danvers needed immediate medical attention. You jumped out of the way when Helen and the medical team wheeled a gurney past you. Your feet followed them to a room while they placed Carol onto the bed. No one seemed to notice you so fixated on the woman bleeding. Why wasn’t she healing?

The mission was to search an abandoned factory for information on the super soldier serum. It was Carol, Wanda, and Sam. Simple. Easy. So why was she bleeding out?

Blood transfusion. We are low. We need to do something before her heart stops. “Use my blood,” Helen looked at you. “I’m a universal donor. I can help.” The doctor glanced at Carol and back to you. Her face softened.

“We need a lot of blood,” Helen said slowly as if trying to make you understand. “It could kill you.”

“I don’t care,” you were already taking off your jacket. “Just save her.” You felt bad for putting Helen in this position, and when Carol woke up, the captain would give her an earful. Finally, Helen gave in.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Carol woke up slowly. Heaviness surrounded her, mixed with the pounding of her head. All she wanted was to go back to sleep. But the sound of the door opening and closing caused her to wake up fully. Her eyes followed Helen, who was oblivious to her being awake. When the doctor’s eyes landed on the captain’s, Helen jumped. “Well,” she said, holding onto her heart. You are up sooner than expected.”

“What happened?” Carol questioned.

“You were injured. They laced the bullets with some type of substance that blocked your healing capability and poisoned your blood,” the doctor’s face softened and her eyes glanced to the side. Carol followed it. There, she saw you curled up in the chair and an IV attached to your hand. You were pale, too pale for Carol’s liking. “You needed a blood transfusion. She’s okay, just needs time to recover.”

Maybe Carol should have been listening to the medical jargon that Helen was saying, but she could not focus on anything except you. You saved her life at the cost of your own. Gods, you were so stupid. What were you thinking?

She felt her stomach drop as she took in the bandages on your arm. There were tiny droplets of your blood on the gauze. The sight made her sick. She hated any time you were hurt, but it was worse not that you were injured because of her.

When Helen finally left, Carol was quick to pull the IV out of her arm and threw her legs over the side of the bed. Her head began to spin, but she pushed through it. She hated feeling this weak; it was a feeling she was not used to. With a sigh, she stood up and walked over to you. You were out. Not even waking when Carol picked you up and laid you on the bed. She ensured your IV wasn’t tangled and the blanket was tucked around you. It would be a tight fit, but she lay beside you and put your head on her chest. The only peace of mind was the shallow intake of your breathing. You were safe and alive. Then, when you woke up, she was going to give you an earful.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

At any given time, you would be thankful for the warmth you were feeling, but it was suffocating. Slowly, you opened your eyes, and your room came into view. You were no longer in the chair but in a bed and cuddled against a body. “Carol,” you mumbled and tried to sit up.

“Lay down,” she said and kept you lying against her. “Helen said it would take some time for your body to readjust,” but you were stubborn and needed to see her better. So you pushed her hand off of you and sat up. Your stomach flipped, and you were so dizzy from all the blood they took from you. All that was superficial when you saw Carol - alive, awake, and talking. It was a stark contrast from when they brought her in.

“You’re awake.”

“And you are stupid,” Carol countered. “What were you thinking about giving me your blood? It could have killed you. I’m so pissed that the medical team allowed it,” you took every harsh word with a grain of salt because she was worried. She was scared. So you smirked like a smart ass.

“Jeez, Danvers, I thought you liked it when I was inside you. Or is it only when it’s my fingers? " A frown remained on her face, but you saw a slight twitch as if she was trying so hard not to laugh.

“Why did you do it?” Carol questioned instead. You frowned.

“Why wouldn’t I? You almost died, Carol and I was given the opportunity to save you, so I took it,” you grabbed her hand. “Sickness and health, right?” Now you managed to make her laugh.

“Yeah, sickness and health.”

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Something changed between you and her. Instead of growing closer, it drove you further apart. You were walking on eggshells around each other, unsure of how to act around each other. A line had been crossed, and there was no way to undo it. You broke the cardinal rule of friends with benefits - no feelings. At the time, it felt like an easy rule to follow. But it was easier to fall in love with Carol.

Her smile, her laugh, the warmth of her hugs—she was amazing, and you were in love with her. It was killing you that you hadn’t told her. It was a standstill between you and her, one who would crack.

It was you. You were weak, tired, and missed your girl. So you knocked on her door and waited. Once the door opened, you acted on instinct and pushed her back inside her room with your lips on hers. You kicked the door closed and slumped against Carol when her arms circled your waist and kissed you back.

“Wait,” she managed to pull you off her, but her forehead rested against yours. “What are we doing?”

“Kissing,” you said, slightly out of breath. Carol’s eyes were somewhat blown out, and her lips were swollen. I’m kissing you because I love and miss you. So either we keep kissing, or I leave, and we stop whatever this is,” you grabbed onto her shirt, afraid to let her go. “Because I can’t keep pretending I don’t love you.”

“You love me?” She said slowly. You nodded.

“Yes, I-” she quickly pulled you back towards her and kissed you. Her hands moved to your thighs and picked you up. You squeaked at the sudden movement and wrapped your arms around her neck. You knew she wouldn’t drop you even when your back pressed against the wall.

“Fuck,” her lips traveled down your neck. “I love you. I love you so much.”

With her confession, it seemed like a weight was lifted off your shoulders, and you reconnected your lips with hers. “Show me,” you mumbled against her lips. “Show me how much.”

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You woke up in Carol’s bed. Her arm was securely around your waist, and her bare back to you. There were scratch marks that decorated her skin. You felt a little bad. Carol groaned and turned to face you. Her head rested in the crock of your neck. The warmth of her breath caused goosebumps. “Morning, baby,” it was normal for her to call you pet names, but this felt different.

“Morning, darling,” you ran your fingers through her hair.

“I love you,” you loved her too, and you would never get tired of hearing it.

#carol danvers x you #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers x y/n #captain marvel x reader #captain marvel x you #carol danvers #captain marvel

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darlingbabyboo · 9 months ago

Note

Hiii! To begin with I just wanna say that I love ur work and the way you write, it's literally the highlight of my day! <3 Can I request fluffy headcanons about the kawata twins? ( because we all know those two babies are super underrated and it's such a mood-killer to not be able to find any good fics about them ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ ) Seriously, the amount of fics about them is SO limited that I'm desperate at this point :') Thank you in advance! ❤️

Fluffy Headcanons w/ Souya and Nahoya Kawata!

It's so true, these two are criminally underrated and they're such good characters and I love them with all my heart my god. Thank you so much <3 for the compliments and sorry that I'm doing this so late. I already did something similar with Angry, so his section might be a little shorter than Smiley!

Nahoya Kawata (Smiley)

Okay I know you want fluff but Smiley was ranked number 3 from Top Worst Boyfriends 😭😭😭

He was ranked number 2 from the Best Runners and that's bcs he's so good at running away from his problems

He is a little bitch and a menace to society

You want attention?

He wants to go the mall and pretend you don't exist

You want affection?

Well he wants to go to bed leave him alone :/

You want a cutesy petname?

Isn't babe good enough for you?

He has a whole lotta issues okay and he is not the best at giving you the attention that you deserve

He's also a little mean tbh

Just because you think your sweater is cute doesn't mean he does 🤨

He's also shitty with comforting you

He sees you crying and he just stares at you 😐

This sounds really bad so far but the thing about Smiley is that when he commits to someone he fucking commits

He knows that he's not the best (Angry loves reminding him that everyday) but he really fucking tries

Yeah he's jackshit at comforting you at first but when he realizes that you're obsessed he'll do his best to make you feel better

Homemade food to make you feel better, saying sweet words to you or just staying by your side so you know that he won't leave your side

He's your ride and die

He knows that he might be harsh too and balances with sweetness

He might not like sweater but ig you guys can go to the mall and you can get whatever you want or smth, you want a manicure sure whatever you want, of course you can get that shirt you look great in it whatever it's no big deal 🙄

He loves you okay he's not the best at expressing all the time but you're everything to him ❤️

Souya Kawata (Angry)

Boyfriend goals 😍

He's a worshipper okay, you're not just his partner you are his god

He will do anything for you

Hungry?

Five course homemade meal already made

Tired

Lay down, the bed's made, the pillow's cold and the blankets are fluffy

Are you stressed for your test?

All day study buddy right here, doesn't even care if he doesn't understand what you're studying, he's gonna do the best he can to support you

If you wear makeup I 100% believe Angry would be the type of person to help remove your makeup after a long day

He's also the type to ask a million questions while you're doing makeup it can be a bit irritating but it's coming from a sweet place

Loves stuffed animals and is willing to share the love

Gifts you stuffies all the time (his favourite is the conger eel, that's so cute I love him too much ❤️❤️❤️)

You two would have dates where you bring your favourite stuffies or where you chill on each other's bed with your stuffies 🤗🤗🤗

His brother makes fun of him for how whipped he is and while he's a little embarrassed, he is not ashamed of you

Why would he be embarrassed you're perfect, who wouldn't worship you 🥰

#smiley x reader #nahoya kawata x reader #nahoya kawata #nahoya fluff #smiley fluff #souya kawata x reader #angry x reader #souya kawata #souya fluff #kawata fluff #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers scenarios #tokyo revengers headcanons

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thezombieprostitute · 1 month ago

Note

Gonna make this a follow up to It's Okay to Cry.

Warnings: None. Please let me know if I missed any.

After you'd caught Bucky crying because of Lilo & Stitch you'd hoped he would be more open about his emotions with you. Especially his sad moods. Unfortunately he still resorted to shutting down and trying to hide whenever he was sad. You felt torn between wanting to be there for him, holding him when he needs to cry, and wanting to respect his boundaries.

The idea hits you as you're out running errands. You walk past a crate of Squishmallows and you think about the your own stuffed animal collection. How much it helps to squeeze them when you need to cry or not panic. A stuffed animal would be perfect for Bucky! You just have to find the right one. One that you know he'd accept. Easier said than done.

You start scouring toy aisles for just the right stuffed animal. A duck? No. Likely any bird based stuffed animal would get discarded out of hand because of the association to Sam. A cat? Maybe. A dolphin? A squid? Hmm...none of them really feel right.

It isn't until you're walking out of the third store that you see it. A chunky wolf stuffie that had been left alone on the clearance shelf. Part of you understands why it's been left behind. It's not exactly "cute". It's teeth and angry eyes looked poorly made. It was clearly meant to look adorably menacing but it failed. And there it was, left all alone on the clearance shelf. It was perfect!

When Bucky gets home, he sees the round plushie on the couch and the corners of his lips turn up in a small smile.

"Got yourself another pillow for the couch, Doll?" he asks as he kisses your cheek in greeting.

"Actually, I got that one for you."

"For me?"

"Yup."

"Why?"

"In case you get another 'super cold' and you need something to help," you wink.

Bucky's smile drops and he goes to the couch. "You got me a stuffed animal for when I'm sick?" He picks up the wolf stuffie, giving it a skeptical look.

"He was all alone on the shelf," you tell Bucky. "He needed a good home. Some love. And I think he'd make a good companion for you." Bucky keeps frowning at the wolf and you start thinking it was a mistake.

You walk over to grab it, "I'm sorry. I'll take it back."

Bucky pulls away from you and gives you a playfully angry look. "No! It's my wolf. You gave it to me."

His reaction has you smiling and chuckling. "I'm glad you like it."

Tagging: @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @kmc1989; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @stellar-solar-flare

#zombie asks #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff

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aurmisery · 18 days ago

Text

lover, you should've come over.

you guessed it, a ronin b. x reader.

small epilogue to uhhh confessions unheard: sickening sweetness from a MONTH AND A HALF AGO.... tahaha... yeah...

only reason this was written was because a good friend of mine had me thinking it up one day and i thought why not? it was really fun to write ngl (thanks alo for ur help !!)

this is short, but this is just to hold over my account until i can actually prioritize writing when i have free time and actually fix up my messed up revisions 😭

words // 2029

enjoy ! no warnings this time !!

ronin isn't one to bare his heart and soul out all carefree, he's the type to twist them with silken words and stringed innuendo, the type to keep you guessing so you never know what he's truly on about.

but damn, he couldn't lie; drifting off to sleep within the warmth of your lap as you thread your nails through his hair had to have been one of the best feelings in the world.

besides killing someone, anyway.

your fingers massage around the crown of his head and he gives a lazy sigh in response, lashes batting low and letting his cheek smush against your leg.

it's cute, the apparent need he has to interact and bury himself into everything you. maybe it came from the drunken confession outside your front door, or maybe it's the fact that he's recovering from a cold and couldn't give less of a fuck to dance around with his words.

"ronin," you hum, and he barely registers your voice, rolling onto his back so he could maintain eye contact with you instead, the way he likes it- especially now, with his voice rough from congestion.

his brows slightly bounce, as if responding 'yes?' and he runs his knuckles over your jawline waiting for you to say something, but you only sweep your thumb over the mulberry strands tickling his forehead, clearing them away from his lashes.

"feeling okay? you're not getting more stuffy from laying up on me, are you?"

he sniffles, letting a small 'mmm' falter through him and his index finger gives a light boop over your nose, a chuckle- throatier than usual, following.

"not so stuffy anymore, darlin'. jus'...a little tired, is all."

he's obviously congested, but it's clearing up and your chest falls slowly, exhaling in relief that he's not burning up as badly anymore.

you're honestly surprised that you haven't gotten sick by taking care of him. you're nursing him 24/7, and like the bastard he is, he's eating up every. second of it.

still teasing you, slinging a heavy arm around you to keep you close to him, constantly nagging for you to never leave his side.

he's as touchy as... never?

ronin had never been this...handsy in your friendship with him, and you'd never guess he was the type from how avoidant he seemed at your front door. but now?

now he's all over you.

when he gets the energy to stand, he lazily slouches onto you with his head on top of yours and arms snug over your neck like dead weight.

it's almost suffocating with how warm he is, and he takes little notice. if he does, he doesn't give enough of a fuck to move off of you.

you try to focus on whatever you're doing, elbowing him lightly in the side to make him move. instead, he only wrenches a dopey smile onto those pale lips of his.

"i ain't goin' anywhere, darlin'."

the finality of his words stir conflict onto your expression, a faint blush bleeding onto your cheeks and the corner of your lips firming themselves as to not crease into a grin. he's stupid.

and god, it makes you wanna kiss him even more.

but no! you can't, because his dumbass just had to wander the streets drunk in the pouring rain like some lovelorn loser rather than getting home and mourning his sorrows there.

you've chastised him multiple times over for it, but you can't lie- you're glad he showed up at your door instead of his. if he went home like usual, you'd have a conflicted serial killer agonizing over his feelings whilst being sick in bed ALONE.

and besides, every time you do start laying into him for his lack of caution or 'whatever' (how he phrases it), he just sloths himself over your duvet, hands up in a gesture of 'whaddya want me to do 'bout it?' as he chews his lip red.

"hey, hey- you're the one who's got my heart all strung up. i can't be the only one to take the blame, now can i, arachne?"

you roll your eyes at the correlation, ignoring the faint flicker of heat coiling in your stomach at the way his teeth tug at the already-blossoming coral of his lip.

...

it isn't fair.

he swings a love confession at you in the rain and you two are glued at the hip after. good, great, even! impeccable timing, really.

but you can't do anything about it. you have him staying over to recover and you can't even touch him the way you want.

he's sick, after all. even though he's not acting like it.

even the slasher playing out on the tv isn't enough to distract you. when watching these, you'd scoot just a little closer to him, and he'd pull you taut against his shoulder.

now though, he's soaking in your warmth, hands on your hips and head angled between the line of your jaw and the bone of your shoulder.

you should have known what you were signing up for the moment you let him inside.

still, you shoot him a look as you unscrew the cap off his medicine bottle, just in time to hear him groan, palms running to the front of your stomach.

you frown. "don’t even start with me."

he lifts his hands in feigned surrender, eyes lidding low and a brow quirking up. "eh, i could do without the medicine. leaves a weird taste on my tongue."

you shrug him off with a scoff, lips pursed. "you'll get better if you take it."

he leans against the counter, one hand propping up his head while the other pinches at the ends of his hair. "nah, i'd rather let natural selection take its toll."

..could he be any more annoying?

you roll your eyes at him before narrowing them, pinching the bridge of your nose. "oh, shut up and take it before i pour it down your throat myself."

he grins, slow and wolfish, his voice dipping just to spite you.

"that a promise, darlin’?"

if you held a mirror up to your face at that exact moment, the dusting of pink around your ears wouldn't have helped your case.

he's getting under your skin, and that's what he loves to do most.

why not give him the same energy?

you cross your arms with a sigh, turning your back to him with a shake of your head.

"damn, guess you don't want that kiss then."

the somber laced in your voice is pure mock, but it didn't stop the small grin threatening your facade.

in one...two-

"..alright, so uh- how much am i supposed to take again?"

bingo.

yeah, it wasn't too hard to get him to take his medicine after that.

he complained about the taste for about three minutes before he shut up and you dragged his ass to bed. luckily for you, he wasn't straining for an all nighter, either.

the window beside your bed is half-open, the blinds uneven where a few slits tilt just enough to let the outside in. dusky blues seep through the gaps, soft and endless, pooling onto the floor, stretching over the sheets. the night air lingers, cool against your skin, but your gaze is still fixed on him.

ronin, caught between light and shadow, the city’s breath painting him in something just shy of divine. the angles of his face softened beneath the faint glow, his lashes resting like brush strokes against his skin.

he's breathing well tonight. it's clear, not too stuffy, and his lashes lay still, undisturbed. no flutters, not even a scrunch in his nose as he tries to get comfortable.

you reach out, running a few fingers over his brow, smoothing over the faint crease that lingers there even in rest.

and your index finger falls over the bump of his nose, giving it a small boop yourself.

his lids twitch a little, once, twice, before he turns himself into the pillow beneath him, arms snaking up and around it with a low grumble.

you scoff, slowly lifting off the bed and sliding some shoes on quietly, taking light steps across the carpet and pulling an arm through one sleeve of your jacket, the other following suit as you grip your doorknob.

you turn it, trying your best not to have the door creak or the knob snap back into place, and just as you get a foot out the door-

"not even a kiss goodnight? rude."

his voice is honeyed with sleep, thick and drowsy, like he’s barely clinging to consciousness, and it's enough to have your pulse quicken.

you freeze, hands shoved in your pockets, already preparing your death glare, but you turn your head over to him, and...

he hasn't moved much, still sprawled where you left him, but one black eye's cracked open lazily, dark and luster-less in the dim light.

his head tilts slightly in your direction, cheek half-buried against the pillow, the deep red of his hair spilling shaggy and unkempt over the stark white fabric.

you chew the lining of your cheek, angling your arm against the doorway with a limpness that says 'fine, you caught me.'

"i was about to go and feed your babies back home, but i s'pose pepperoni and blackjack can wait since their father's so important."

he smirks, tongue licking over the dryness of his lips, before he raises his chin.

"you think i forgot?"

now, you pause at that. you stop the drumming of your fingers over the edge of the door, and your brow creases up.

"...forgot what?"

"my kiss, darlin'."

silence, then a scoff, and you push off the frame, crossing your arms with a wry smile.

"you're sick, ro-"

"and?"

you squint right back at him.

"fuck you mean 'and?' you think i'm trying to get sick?"

he leans onto an elbow, pushing his head up with a shit eating grin.

"c'mon, you've been sick since the day you tiptoed your way to purgatory. since you've kissed the devil, and now you're scared of contracting somethin'?"

your lips part. to retort, to deny, but you could only mutter something sly under your breath as you stomped back to his bedside.

you eye them over, and they're not so pale anymore- maybe a little bludgeoned, pink 'n pretty with the stain of crimson seeping between the light cracks softening on his skin.

your fingers hover for half a second. hesitating. thinking, as if weighing out the risk and the reward.

then, with yet another roll of your eyes, you lean down, close enough for the warmth of his breath to meet yours.

"fine. one," you murmur. "but you better pray that pepper's not plotting on blackjack."

his lips meet yours, warm despite the uneven drag of cracked skin against your own. it's slow- unrushed, lazy in a way that makes heat curl at the base of your spine. the roughness of his lips should be off-putting, the faint taste of medicine lingering between you, but it's not.

it's familiar.

it's him.

he exhales through his nose, the sound melting into the quiet space between you as he tilts his head just enough to deepen it. his mouth parts slightly, teasing at the seam of yours, and for a moment, it's softer than it has any right to be- like he's waiting, like he’s letting you take what you've wanted so badly from him.

but then, just as quick, you pull away with a scoff, brushing the back of your hand over your mouth, and your fingers linger at your lips longer than they should.

"that all i get?" he murmurs, voice husked from sleep, from you.

you roll your eyes, striding towards the door and opening it with pep in your step.

"get some sleep, loverboy."

his greed sickens me 💔 anyway ill edit any mishaps or clunky words/phrases and italics/bolds and sectioning later it's like 1:41 AM over here

#killer chat #ronin beaufort #killer chat ronin #killer chat!#visual novel #ronin beaufort x reader #ronin #kc!

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