#belly flu

[blushingblurbs]

“I’m sorry, excuse me, I’ve just… I’ve got to use the bathroom.”

It’s always said with equal parts urgency, embarrassment, and discomfort.

Add in belly rumbles or a hand resting/rubbing the upset tummy. Plus the occasional stifled belch.

The surprised or sympathetic pause and then the “usual” reactions to such a confession.

Usually the sick person blushes, but sometimes they’re so pale they only manage to briefly close their eyes in embarrassment (or to allow a wave of nausea or lower belly pressure pass), only before desperately looking around for the most private, readily available restroom.

[boysbellyrubs]

hi! I love your work, if you don't mind could you make a sickfic where a male character of your liking mistake a stomach flu as motion sickness, because he's in a car/airplane/boat. Thank you.

Sorry for making you wait so long for this. I'm finally free of exams so I had time to write this, it's kinda short and rushed but I hope you enjoy :)

--

The drive to Queenstown had always been known to cause motion sickness. The twisty roads stuck high up against the hills were a recipe for disaster. Caine felt himself sliding around in the passenger seat, trying desperately to stare at one spot outside the car. 

“Feeling okay?” Quinn asked. The car's radio turned down as Quinn took notice of Caine’s silence. Monitoring each other on the drive was something they had agreed on before they left, knowing how treacherous the trip was going to be. Caine didn’t want to think about when he would have to drive back, the thought of plummeting face first down the cliff made his insides curdle. 

His inside curdled on their own though. The roads curved and wrapped around his stomach, sending ominous gurgles and neon warning signs lit up in his head. Caine cringed inwards, hating the queasy feeling nestled deep in his belly, it made his head spin and his eyes water. 

Quinn tried again, “Caine? I asked if you were okay.” 

“Feeling a little queasy.” He mumbled, arms squeezing across his middle. His boyfriend groaned a little. 

“I’m sorry, hon, but we’ve got a ways to go before we get to some flat. Can you hold out until then?” 

Caine really wanted to say no. But, Quinn was right. It was impossible for them to pull over. He nodded but a small whimper left his lips. It felt like his brain was sliding around inside his skull, bouncing against bone and spinning up his eyeballs. He looked directly forward, breathing heavily through his nose. Quinn silently turned up the air con, an icy blast of air hit Caine square in the face. 

As they drove on, Caine found a good spot on the horizon for his eyes to rest. He ignored the speeding images of other cars and green hills beside him. A cramp tore up his middle, gurgling angrily at him. Every breath he took caused another fresh wave of nausea to rise up. 

“Do you need a bag or something?” Quinn said, eyes focused on the road. Even though Caine was clearly suffering, driving them off into the depths of the mountains was a lot worse. “There’s one in the glove box.” 

Caine shakily reached for it. He knew it was coming, he just didn’t know when. He closed his eyes at the uncomfortable feeling, hating the suspense and the build up of bubbly nausea brewing inside him. With some more shaky breaths he lowered his legs from their curled up position and let himself sit in misery, plastic bag crumpled up in his grasp. 

The sun was beaming into the car, the noon brightness causing his eyebrows to crease. The air conditioner was suddenly useless. Caine felt himself sweating under his layers but shivering like a leaf. He opened up the bag a bit, letting out a breath through his mouth. 

He could barely talk. “Quinn, I really don’t feel good.” It was a struggle to even open his mouth. Caine was terrified any indication of an escape would send his stomach hurtling into the bag. 

“I know, honey. Maybe ten more minutes.” Caine didn’t think he’d be able to last that long. No matter how hard he tried, the car’s movement was something he couldn’t just ignore. He felt his jaw clench, aching with the beginning of the end. His stomach chose that moment to cramp. 

“Oh, fuck me.” This was one of the worst experiences of his life. Trapped inside with only a plastic bag to calm his fears. His stomach lurched. Caine’s back arched and he dropped his head into the bag, hovering over his knees like he was elderly. The sudden movement made his vision swim. He was the picture of miserable. 

His shaky hands wrapped tightly around the handles as his stomach let go. A throaty heave brought up a mouthful, cutting off his air supply with little warning. He gagged again as the ache inside his stomach tripled. The entire atmosphere of the car changed, it felt like he was floating through space as another heave assaulted him. 

Caine’s mouth was wide open, desperate for a breath of air, but vomit won the battle. The sweat on his brow dripped into the bag. He felt disgusting. He could vaguely hear Quinn’s voice. Caine desperately needed to hold his belly, hating the way it contracted and heaved. The car took a sharp turn. Caine’s stomach took its own turn and pivoted up to his throat, another rolling gag made him spit up hot acidic vomit. He groaned at the feeling, his throat scratchy. 

The sharp turn however was Quinn finally being able to pull over. The car's engine rumbled quiet and Caine lifted his head just a bit to see the rolling countryside of the vineyards in his view. Well, if there was any place to get violently sick, it was Queenstown. 

His door opened and Quinn’s voice finally was loud enough to be heard over the blood in his ears. He guided Caine outside, clinging to his arms. “Take some deep breaths baby.” 

Caine’s legs were shaking. “Can I sit down?” 

“Oh, yeah, yeah. There you go, just relax.” He still had the bag in his hands. Caine imagined the sloshing to be what his stomach was doing. Despite being outside and stationary, his belly still tossed and turned. He moaned, wrapping one of his arms around it. There was a light breeze around them, drying his sweat and making him shiver. Quinn’s arms never let go. 

A few moment of rest was all he was allowed. Right outside a beautiful winery, Caine felt his stomach cramp again and he belched thickly into the bag. Saliva gathered quickly inside his mouth. His cheeks filled up with vomit and he coughed it up. With no time to breath, another gag made his shoulders roll forward and he burped up more, shaking at the force. 

Quinn’s steady hand rested on his back, and the other pushed up the hair that was beginning to stick to his forehead. That hand however, stilled when he touched skin. Quinn hummed as he held his hand there. “Are you sure this is motion sickness, Caine?” 

His answer was anything but coherent. Caine’s mind was burning and his grip on reality was faltering. 

“I think you have a fever, my love,” His hand moved to his neck, knuckles gently grazing under his jaw. “You’re very warm.”

Caine didn’t want to believe it. A nice trip ruined because of him. “I don’t even know where I picked this up though.” His voice was shot. Desperately tired and violently cold, Caine leaned into Quinn’s body, tucking his head down. The other just wrapped his arms around him. Cars whizzed past, probably wondering what the hell they were doing, but Caine needed the support. He was dizzy as fuck, feeling like the ground underneath was swaying like the ocean. 

“How are you feeling now?” Quinn tried after a few minutes of silence. Caine shrugged his shoulders, exhaustion outweighing everything else he was feeling. He put his hands onto his belly. 

“I think we can go. I’m freezing out here.” 

“Okay, hold on to me, okay,” Quinn got him standing. They slowly walked back to the car and Quinn handed him a new sick bag. “Found this in the backseat. If you want me to pull over just say so.” He brushed back Caine’s hair again, subtly checking the fever. Caine was so weak his head fell back against the seat as a result. He closed his eyes at the feather light touches along his cheeks and around the delicate skin of his eyes. 

A soft kiss was placed at the tip of his nose. 

“Not too far to go. Then you can sleep away this nasty bug.” Quinn’s hand patted his stomach and then buckled him in. 

The drive from then on was quite smooth, no longer winding and dangerous. Caine dozed for most of it, waking up only to cramps or to burp up vomit into the bag. The lethargy that usually came with stomach bugs was too strong though, making his bones ache and his muscles weak. Getting out of the car again stirred up his nausea once again and an embarrassing few gags filled the silence in the elevator. 

However, once they finally made it to the room, Caine collapsed onto the bed and let Quinn fuss over him. Belly rubs and kisses made his body shut down, falling into sleep as he let his body battle the sickness.  --

Some New Zealand scenery for ya'll. Thankfully I don't get sick when I go on this road lmao.

[bellysoupset]

I cannot find the ask who requested for sick Wendy + Bella caretaker, so maybe it never existed at all.... Anyway, have some pure sick bromance between my girls.

--------------

"You think I should cut it?" Bella frowned at her reflection, glaring at her hair. She was standing inside of the changing room of the store, in just a swimsuit, so Wendy could help her pack for honeymoon.

"Your beautiful lion mane?" Wendy scoffed, curling up on the puff she was sitting on and absently minded going through the rack of reject bikinis standing next to her, "are you crazy?"

"Sometimes I feel like it stands out more than I do," Bella pouted, hands on her waist and then sighed, tugging on the swimsuit, "so what do you think?"

"I liked the blue one more," Wendy studied her from head to toe, "but I also think you're going to give Luke a stroke."

Bella opened a big, smug smile, looking over her shoulder to stare at her ass in the mirror, "good, then I'm taking it as well," she walked over to the private part of the changing rooms in order to get back in her clothes, "so how's the extra class you were gonna start taking coming along?"

"Which one of them?" Wendy asked, getting up and checking the price tag of a cute little pink bikini with a matching skirt.

"How many classes are you taking!?" Bella opened the curtain of her changing part, unbothered by the fact she was just in her bra and panties, "aren't you also doing the neurology residency!?"

"Well, you see, I have a lot of free time," Wendy shrugged, "and a lot of energy."

"You should join my boxing class then," Bella zipped up her black leather pants, "Jonah's there and I'm kicking his ass."

"No, you're not," Wendy giggled at the transparent lie, "no coach would ever match you up with Jonah, Bell, he's huge."

"Please," Bella rolled her eyes, putting on her band t-shirt and grabbing her purse as well as the picked swimsuits and bikinis, "I could kick his ass, I know I could," she walked over to Wendy and grabbed the smaller woman by her shoulders, "come up for a class."

"I'll think about it," Wendy wrinkled her nose in distaste. A gym wasn't exactly her idea of fun. Sure, she did hot yoga, but there was none of the loud upbeat music and shouting at each other to do more and better.

"So what else are you studying then, Tink?" Bella walked to the cashier part. Wendy handed her the piece she was planning to buy for herself when her friend flashed Luke's black card before her eyes with raised eyebrows, wordlessly putting it on his tab and Bell didn't comment besides snorting at it.

"Interior Design classes every Monday and Thursdays, yoga every Saturday morning, fashion drawing every Tuesday night... I wanted to try ballroom dancing, but my partner is in freaking Doveport and Jon said he already knows and it would be no fun."

Bella wrinkled her nose and shook her head when Wendy opened her mouth as if to ask her, "absolutely not."

"Boo," Wendy sighed, "I think we should take some class together, it'd be cool. Babs is in my hot yoga class and it's a lot of fun."

"Sure," Bella picked up the bags and they started to walk out of the door, "but not ballroom dancing, thank you. I'm actually participating in a coding challenge right now and-"

"A coding challenge," Wendy raised her eyebrows, "what's that?" They walked the short distance between the store and Wen's apartment building.

"Basically I have to try and design a mockup app with the monthly theme," Bella explained and Wendy frowned at that.

"I thought that was your job...?"

"No," Bell followed her inside the elevator, "I'm a backend developer, a frontend does the design and thinks the interface, I do the math that makes it work. But I like UI design, so that's why-"

"God, you're so nerdy," Wendy grumbled, resting against the metal and grimacing slightly as the movement made her stomach lurch, "I can't believe you didn't get shoved into lockers when you were younger, Bell."

The ginger rolled her eyes, "that's because I was always hot," she showed the other woman her tongue like a five year old, running a hand through her curls and then frowning, noticing Wendy's face had lost its usual pink tone.

Bella opted for not saying anything and they kept chatting, walking into Wendy's apartment. However, the longer they talked, the more Bell realized she was the one doing most of the talking, Wendy getting quieter and quieter.

"Wen," Bella pouted, after spending a good thirty minutes talking basically on her own, "do you want me to go? I don't need to spend the night if you're tired-"

"No!" Wendy exclaimed, shaking her head and moving on her spot on the couch, "sorry, no, I don't want you to leave. We planned you'd spend the night, I was looking forward to that, it's just-"

"It's just?" Bell leaned in, confused and Wendy grimaced, moving again as if she couldn't find a comfortable position, "what's wrong, Wen?"

"My stomach is bothering me," Wendy's cheeks turned a deep shade of red, "I don't know what's wrong, I know I didn't eat anything off, but it's all gurgly and kinda crampy."

"Oh," Bella raised her eyebrows, "do you think it could be hunger?"

Wendy shook her head, "no, definitely not hunger, I feel a little queasy..." she pouted, hugging her knees, "I'm sorry, its just my stomach- I- It's a bit of a sore topic."

"Your belly?" Bella frowned, more confused than before, "you feeling sick to your stomach is a sore topic?"

Wendy nodded, pouting and resting her cheek to her knee, "yeah..."

"Why?" Bella crawled on the couch, moving closer, "because you're chubby? That's silly, babe-"

"No," Wen scoffed, before pausing, "I mean, sorta? I used to have issues with my weight back when I was a teen, which led to becoming bulimic and, well, I don't have an eating disorder anymore, but every time I feel like I'm gonna barf, it makes me feel disgusting-"

"Okay," Bella raised a hand to interrupt her, "your order of priorities is a little skewered, Wen. You should've started by telling me you think you're going to puke..." she opened a small, amused smile, "let's go sit in the bathroom, c'mon."

"No," Wendy curled up more, "I'm fine, it's gonna pass- You're not gonna say anything about..?" she raised a judgmental eyebrow and Bell shrugged, standing up from the couch.

"I don't have anything to say," she said in a nonchalant manner, "I'm happy you don't do it anymore...?"

Wendy let out a snort, noticing how uncomfortable Bella seemed being in the emotional caretaker role. She rolled her eyes, "okay, Bells," but the humor quickly vanished, as her lunch flipped yet again. Wendy let out a sigh, curling up in a smaller ball, "I feel gross."

"You're not," Bella patted her head, "c'mon, let's go sit in the bathroom before you ruin your pretty rug."

Wendy didn't have the heart to tell Bell that sitting in the bathroom waiting to throw up really made her feel more awful, not less. She fidget uncomfortably as Bella rummaged through her cabinet drawers until she found a good claw clip to pull Wen's hair back.

Then she sat down as well on the cold ground and planted a hand on Wendy's back, "you feel a little warm, Wen."

"Isn't that just grand," Wendy groaned, leaning forward and staring at the still water of the toilet. She pushed away, fanning herself, "can you go sit in the living room? I don't want you to see me like this..."

"Nope," Bella popped the P at the end of the word, pulling Wendy to lie against her, "sucks for you, but I'm not going anywhere. Come here- Come here-" Bell pulled her closer, draped across her lap and planted a hand on Wendy's unsettled tummy, "I do this for Luke all the time and it helps."

"That's because your husband is an overgrown puppy, I'm not," Wendy groaned, but she couldn't help but melt at the soft touch. Even if her whole face was aflame, Bella was being really delicate, moving her fingers to the sorest spots as if she already knew them by memory.

The ginger slid down slightly, muffling a yawn and pressing the heel of her hand to Wendy's tummy. The pale skin was pushing out, bloated, and every time Bell pressed it she could feel a string of gurgles under her fingers, traveling up-

"Oh, you silly idiot," Bella scoffed, flicking at Wendy's ear, "the belly rub doesn't help if you don't burp. That's the entire point of it!"

"You're killing me," Wendy groaned, pressing her face to Bell's leg and hiding the angry blushing overtaking her cheeks. Bella snorted at that, continuing the rub.

"I'm trying to help," she whispered, "tell me know if I'm making it worse."

"Not worse," Wendy squirmed, then a burp rushed up before she could muffle it and she let out a whine at the loud noise, covering her face, "oh God- I'm sorry-"

"You're so silly," Bella chuckled, "that's nothing, Wen.”

Wendy cringed, pressing her face further to Bella’s thigh and continuing to burp, trying to muffle them. The burps, that at first were making her feel better, got progressively wetter, until one brought her lunch with it and Wendy scrambled up, slapping a hand over her lips and rushing for the toilet. 

She didn’t vomit, it went back down, but left her feeling shaky, nausea causing cold sweat to break on her forehead and over her upper lip, flooding her mouth with a horrible taste. 

“Wen,” Bell planted a hand in the middle of her back, “what do you need? What’s wrong?”

Wendy groaned, lifting herself slightly so she could press her sick stomach against the porcelain and resting her forehead on her hand, elbow on the seat, “can’t puke… Wanna puke, I feel-” she spat again, the act of speaking causing more saliva to come up, “feel sick…”

“Okay,” Bells continued to rub her back, short nails making a scratching motion, “do you think drinking something might help it come up?”

She felt so horrid, talking about vomiting like that. Wendy nodded, before letting out a groan, almost a sob. Not quite crying, but close. At least this time it wasn’t her fault she was sick, silver linings. 

“Babe,” Bella sighed, returning from the bathroom sink with a glass of water, “hey, you’re okay, it’s just a stomach bug. Happens to everyone…” 

Wendy took the glass with shaky, sweaty fingers and forced herself to gulp it down. The first sip was actually good, pushing back the horrible taste and the stickiness in her mouth, only for the throat to seemingly close up, tongue curling with disgust, making it incredibly hard for the to swallow more-

“Fuck,” Wendy haphazardly shoved the glass in Bella’s general direction, not even sure if she took it or not before letting go and her whole back arching with a violent heave. Nothing came up, but it set off a chain reaction, her belly squeezing before she could catch her breath and another two gags, until a wet burp brought up a huge gush of half digested french fries and a milkshake.

The sheer volume made her feel like she was drowning and Wendy coughed, hacking again and letting out a string of moans as even more puke rushed up, splashing on her fingers, and making her head swim with the lack of oxygen.

“I got you, I got you,” Bella said softly, cupping her forehead and flushing the toilet, helping Wendy lean over it, “get it up, Tink, you’ll feel better soon.”

“Urgh,” Wendy spat in the now clear swirling water, struggling to breathe. Her nose was stinging and it felt blocked, she felt cold all over… “Can I have more- More wa-” she never did finish that sentence, her stomach contracting violently and more puke rushed up, this time actually choking her. 

Wendy folded almost completely with a coughing fit, feeling Bell thump her back and force her to straighten up in order to clear her airways, “big breaths, babe,” Bella tipped her chin back, forcing Wendy to look up, and some clear air to make it through. 

The smaller girl groaned as oxygen came back, her spine giving up on her and she fell back, only for Bella to grab her by the wrists and stop her from swan diving and hitting her head against the porcelain. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck — Hey, Wen? You with me?”

“Uhm,” Wendy closed her eyes, dizzy and nauseous, still gulping for air. She leaned to the left, her cheek meeting something soft, so Wen let her weight drop against it, “feel…” a little burp interrupted her, “really shitty.”

She heard Bella let out a relieved sigh at her being responsive, then the ginger’s hands on her face, something wet wiping her lips and chin. Wendy frowned, a new wave of humiliation washing over her, “don’t do that…”

“Shush it,” Bell scoffed, pulling her to lie against her, “you’re done? Surely you must be empty…”

“Don’t know…” Wen mumbled, planting a hand to her tummy. Bella had pushed up her top and it was still up, which made Wendy feel even worse. She must be a sight. Under her hand, there was a string of bubbles and gurgles, rushing up and causing her to let out a little sickly burp, “don’t feel done.”

“There ain’t no way,” Bella scoffed, but there was an amused tone to her words, “well, okay, do you want to just wait it out here or-”

Wendy forced her eyes open, feeling more than a little dizzy. It took her a second to realize she was pressed against Bella’s side, her cheek against her friend’s boob, causing her whole face to turn pink with embarrassment. She pulled back, then leaned forward over the toilet once more and shoved a finger inside her mouth, only for Bella to yank at her hand. 

“No, absolutely not,” Bella’s voice was harsh now, none of the previous lighthearted air, “you’re not doing that.”

“I don’t feel good…” Wendy whined, spitting in the water, “I want it out…”

“I don’t care, you’re not doing that,” Bella scoffed, then in a calmer tone she said, “let me rub your tummy, okay? Maybe it’ll help.” 

“No, Bell, I-” Wendy heaved, a mouthful of watery vomit falling in the water and leaving her panting, “I need to puke, my stomach feels sour and like it’s burning…” 

“Alright,” Bella had a practical tone that caused Wendy to groan, like she was a little engineering problem for her friend to solve. The ginger got behind her, pushing the glass of water back to Wendy, “big gulps.”

“Not- Not gonna-”

“Big gulps,” Bella repeated, voice firm, “c’mon, Wendy.”

Wendy sighed, blowing out another airy burp and then forcing herself to drink the rest of the water. It landed in her stomach like acid, causing more of the burning sensation that tickled her throat and Wendy groaned, leaning more-

Bella touched her belly, her fingers no longer that soft, pressing the heel of her hand to Wendy’s bloated upper stomach, right where it rounded out of her rib cage. The pressure caused a gurgly burp to come up and Wen moaned, squeezing the toilet seat with both hands, as Bell continued to literally squeeze her tummy. 

She couldn’t breathe properly, making a slightly wheezy sound, and then her stomach contracted once more, sharply, and Wendy moaned her way as another gush exploded out of her mouth. This time it was mostly sour, salty water, but the first gush opened the gates for the rest and she continued to gag, puking little mouthfuls of chunkier stuff, until she finally let out a deafening heave, whole back curling as her stomach forced up the last of it.

Wendy groaned, her knees giving in and she felt Bella wrap her up with an arm, flushing the toilet, “there you go,” the ginger pressed a kiss to the top of her head and Wendy would have started crying, if she wasn’t half convinced she already was. 

She whimpered, pushing her face against Bella’s stomach and falling into an awkward position across the woman’s lap. Bell seemed unbothered, combing her fingers through Wendy’s hair, then moving her hand to her tummy.

“How are you feeling?”

“Pathetic, disgusting, horrible-”

Bella glared at her, “that’s all bull,” she said sharply, “I wanna know how’s your belly.”

“Ah… Better. Not settled,” Wendy sighed, curling up her knees, “I think it’s the flu.”

“I think it’s the flu too,” Bell agreed, “you’re really warm. Think you can stand up? You need to get out of these clothes and into bed.”

“Not now,” Wendy mumbled, squeezing her eyes shut when shaking her head no caused the bathroom to blur, “I’m sorry you had to-”

“Madre de Dio, Wendy!” Bella cried out, “babe, you didn’t gross me out or whatever, just stop fucking apologize. It’s fine, you got sick, that happens.”

Wendy let out a whine, forcing her eyes open, all feverish and emotional and wanting to die, “you don’t think I’m gross? I mean, I-”

“Wendy,” Bella grabbed her cheeks, forcing their eyes to meet, “what world do you live in where we’re running beauty contests on the bathroom floor?”

The phrase caused Wendy to let out a chuckle, pulling back and forcing herself to sit up. She wiped at her forehead, desperately wanting out of her the clothes that were sticking to her, “I guess.”

“You guess,” Bella repeated, dryly and rolling her eyes, “that’s a ten for Wendy Marshall for puking her guts up with class and elegance, minor sobbing and almost no mess.”

Wendy’s cheeks caught on fire and she glared at her friend, “shut up, Bella.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Bell scoffed, getting up and extending her hand to help her up, “c’mon, let's get you in a shower and then in bed.”

[tewwor]

me: boy i can’t sleep so i guess i’ll try to write but i also can’t write because i’m so tired—

also me: do you ever think about how minsoo and suhyeon activate their mega buff traps and lats like how some birds puff themselves up to look real big when threatened—

[jurassicsickfics]

I can't be the only one who loves it when a character is pictured in their bed; I love to imagine them lying there sick. Sniffly or pukey I don't care, it's all cute💝😊

[aching-tummies]

As I lift the glass of tea to your lips I can tell your tummy is extremely bloated and full. Even still your throat aches so much you need the tea to feel any relief. Drink up babe you'll feel better soon. Every gulp fills your tummy a little more until your drink the last sip. I know your full but we still have half a teapot to go

I'm so, so, so sorry for the long wait. I adore this ask and I've loved it since I received it and have been trying to craft a response to do it justice for weeks. Thank you so, so much. You have no idea how much this post has sustained me through some busy times.

I think this was sent in as a response to the various sickness prompts? One and Two?

Sidenote...as I was finishing this response up and putting it together to post, my belly is literally giving off liquidy gurgles as though in response. As I mentioned in my "Appreciation Post and News" post, life has been kicking my butt lately. More stress, busy-busy, and various other factors have created the perfect environment for an oldie--stressy, upset tummy. I spent all day with my stomach feeling 'off'. I ate late-night instant noodles last night--that were undercooked 'cuz the water I used wasn't quite hot enough, but I was too tired to fix it at 2AM. So I woke up with an already upset tummy from the improperly prepared cup-noodle fermenting in my belly for the three hours or so that I slept. Got up and ran errands. I skipped breakfast but could feel hunger budding and pushing against the indigestion plaguing my belly. I opted for a 2-item box with fried rice from a food court 'cuz they were the only establishment up and running in the mall that was serving hot, non-burger, food. My belly was a bit unsettled at the strange food 'cuz I usually don't eat at those places. After that, I tried walking off the upset...which helped a little...until relatives decided to drag us to an impromptu 'dim sum' experience about three hours into my walk. For those that don't know, dim-sum can get pretty oily. I drank at least a full tea pot's worth of tea on my own, trying to avoid eating more oily food while still making it look like I was part of the dining experience. We got some milk tea boba from a place that always upsets my tummy (I think it's the dairy they use) and at home I ate a lot of watermelon because we needed to make space in the fridge for leftovers from the dim sum. My stomach feels all sloshy and I guess the oily fare is interacting with the tea and watermelon to further upset the works. My stomach hasn't stopped rumbling and letting out really wet gurgles since I sat down to write this.

Anyway...enough with the tangent--the response to this lovely ask is under the cut. Sorry, I feel like it's a bit too short, but I don't know where I could go from here.

I groan as I swallow convulsively around a wet belch. My belly burbles angrily and I close my eyes at the shiver-like sensations rippling through my liquid-filled belly. I turn away from the still-steaming mug of tea you're holding to my lips, shaking my head and cursing the surge of too-warm liquid lapping up my esophagus at the movement.

“C'mon. Drink up, babe. I know your throat hurts--you'll feel better soon, but you need to drink more to get there.”

I shake my head again, cradling my belly with both of my hands as it churns and sloshes uncomfortably within me. I feel like an over-filled water-balloon on the verge of rupturing. My belly is visibly distended. It doesn't look like much, but I've spent the last six days with a reduced appetite due to sickness and have not kept up with meals in those six days. As sick as the idea of eating anything makes me feel, I lament the fact that there's nothing substantial in my belly. Even a humble slice of bread would probably have soaked up a little of what feels like litres upon litres of broth and tea my sickly form is straining to contain.

“C'mon, babe. Down the hatch!” You urge, tipping the mug against my lips.

My belly lets out a watery burble as I swallow the torrent of tea, groaning as the queasiness and nausea increase tenfold with the last three gulps. I swear, I can feel my stomach swell, the stretch growing tighter right around my ribs. A steak crammed into a sausage-casing—that's how my stomach-organ feels at the moment—a large, tender, bloated piece of viscera that's rapidly outgrowing its surroundings.

“Nnngh...n-no more...oooh...urrrp...t-too full...” I wince as I try to form audible words against my sore throat. I bring a hand up to rub at my throat as my other one braces against the sloshing of my churning tummy. I don't want to feel like an overfilled balloon anymore, but I also don't want to puke. Even watered-down, there's still stomach-acid in the mess and the idea of it burning my irritated throat on the way out fills me with dread.

I paw at your arm as I see you lean forward on the couch, getting up to refill the mug, no doubt. I shake my head frantically, hoping you'll get the message. I swallow back against an extremely wet hiccup and cradle my belly again.

“I know you're full, but we're only halfway through the tea. You gotta keep your fluids up.” You admonish, running your fingers through my hair as you pass on your way to the kitchen.

My stomach gurgles loudly—a pitiful sound as it turns over itself. I knead gently into it, willing the liquid to shift somehow, to leave my stomach and maybe saturate my intestines instead of painfully inflating my stomach-organ. I stopped producing meaningful belches about two mugs ago. What's been coming up since has been more like attempts at a dam breaking than actual belches. There's not really much room for air pockets as you've thoroughly saturated my insides with plenty of liquid.

[blushingblurbs]

Walking by a bathroom door and hearing someone on the other side having explosive, splattering, liquid diarrhea…

I feel so terribly for them. I’ve tried not to listen but they’ve been… going for several minutes now. We’re in a cafeteria setting and I think the abandoned tray with a bowl of broccoli cheddar soup, Texas toast and sausage is theirs.

Poor dear is obviously not feeling well and even worse, a line is forming outside their door. It doesn’t sound like they’ll be vacating the restroom anytime soon, though.

[primofate]

[Genshin Impact] Sitting on his lap

Note: Watch me disappear for a long time again after this update.

Warnings: some are a bit suggestive, still safe for work though. established relationship with Genshin man, please excuse and tell me if there are pronoun slips

Premise: You just felt like sitting on his lap, nothing much to it...or so you think.

Characters: Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Cyno, Diluc, Itto, Kaeya, Lyney, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, gn!reader

Alhaitham

Continues reading his book unfazed, one arm automatically coming securely round your waist. He shuts his book after a few seconds more and passes you an upward glance.

"Need something?"

You only hum in response with a shake of your head, indicating that you had only wanted to be close to him. He sits straighter, chest pressing closer to your back. You feel the warmth of his lips press on the left side of your neck, his head tilted to gain access to it.

There's a deep inhale as he takes in your scent and a relaxed exhale that follows. You hear him whisper, voice almost a tone lower and a rare expression of affection passes his lips.

"You're intoxicating, do you know that?"

Ayato

Chuckles as you plop yourself on his lap. He had been doing some paperwork, but he pushes those aside as he wraps both arms around your middle, moving closer as his head rests on your shoulder.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?"

The usual mischievous lilt in his voice doesn't disappear, he's amused that you've taken the initiative to come look for him, even though you knew he was in the middle of something. Before you could even reply, he beats you to it, his breath tickling the shell of your ear.

"Am I right to assume that you, perhaps, missed me?"

"...and what if I did?" you counter with a smile of your own. Head turning sideways to look at him. He grins, one of his hands unravelling from your middle to travel up your face, landing on your cheek, pulling you closer to meet his soft lips.

The kiss starts off gentle, just yours on his. It starts to turn hungrier, still soft, but now it feels like hot lava is churning in your belly at the increasing intensity. He pulls away for a moment only to whisper "Then I'll have to do something about that,"

Baizhu

Looks up from his medicinal notes, taking a few seconds to gaze at your back.

The first thing you feel are his hands resting atop your shoulders, then his thumbs pressing small circles near the base of your neck. You let out a pleasurable moan, relaxing in his hold. Then, as if realizing what you'd done, your hand darts atop your mouth to hide a small laugh.

You could hear Baizhu chuckling alongside with you.

"No need to hold back, darling," his thumbs continue to press circles, now downwards along your spine, continuing his massage.

"Mmmmm..." you try to stifle the next moan coming, "This could so easily be misinterpreted by anyone passing by outside," the two of you share a short laugh yet again.

"Either way, all I'm doing is giving you some love, darling,"

Cyno

He blinks as he feels you sit on him. He was always uncomfortable with the initial position, and so what he usually did was pull you and your legs up, positioning you sideways over his lap, legs somewhat dangling over the armchair. One strong arm wrapped around your back, steadying you and allowing you to lean towards him, tucking your head under his chin.

"Is something the matter?"

You shake your head and offer a simple reply. "Nothing at all, I just wanted to be close to you,"

Your honesty always managed to tug at the edge of his lips the slightest bit. In opportunities like this Cyno didn't say much, instead he liked to savour your warmth melding with his, liked to feel your breathing in sync with his.

He silently presses a kiss atop your head before closing his eyes, and staying that way for a moment longer.

Diluc

Instead of you melting into his embrace it's Diluc who melts around you. The moment you sit on his lap his arms encircle you around your shoulders and pulls you flush against him, your back to his front.

From his position, he nuzzles into your neck and sighs, his hot breath tickling your skin. He closes his eyes and shields himself from the world for a moment, basking in the safety and love emanating from you.

"Hard day?" You ask him and he mumbles something into your neck, incoherent. He repeats it as he pulls away a slight inch.

"Not more than usual," he squeezes you around the shoulders as he says so. "and you?"

You reach a hand up to sift through his hair, he sighs at the feeling and nearly melts into a puddle. "Nothing out of the ordinary," you return his sentiment.

You play with his hair as he holds you close, and in that moment there really isn't much for him to say, though his heart bursts with emotion and fondness towards you.

"Stay with me, Y/N," he makes this request from time to time, and though the two of you have already sworn yourselves to each other, perhaps he needed to say it once in a while in order to hear the answer from you.

"I'll always be here, Diluc,"

Itto

The oni is rather cluless in certain aspects of life, but when you sit on his lap he's guaranteed to be flustered. You prop yourself on his thighs, hands positioned on his legs to keep you from falling in case he made any sudden movements.

"Y-Y-Y/N?!"

"Hm?" You innocently ask, tipping your head back to playfully look at his reddening cheeks. "...Shouldn't you be used to this by now?" you ask, a laugh threatening to escape your lips because of the look on his face.

"I-Well-*ahem* Sure I am!" He puts on a brave face, but he looks like he's also sweating bullets. His hands are stiffly by his side, and he's hesitant to touch you anywhere.

You decide to comfortably lean back and Itto could not think of anything except how warm and soft you were compared to him. He had to get it together, this happened every time you sat on his lap, and it was becoming uncool for him to keep blushing when you did so. He promised himself that he would "man up".

...He still had the same reaction the next time you did it.

Kaeya

Kaeya reacts as if this was an every day thing, in fact this was always a good opportunity to flirt with you.

"Found your favourite spot have you?" Kaeya twists around to peer at you, grin plastered on his face, hand finding your thigh.

"It was tempting, you were just sitting there and it looked like a good place to rest," You returned his grin and felt his chest rumble with laughter.

"You're always welcome, snowflake," his hand squeezes your thigh, eye seemingly glinting with mischief. He shifts around on his seat, making space in between his legs and pulling you right between them, arms tight around your waist, front pressing against your back. "But you'll have to pay a small fee for this exclusive seat, I'm afraid,"

He tilts his head down to gaze at you expectantly, seemingly leaning closer. You smile, tilting your head up for you lips to meet. Kaeya doesn't half ass his kisses. It turns passionate in a split second and his hands are starting to wander up and down your thigh.

"Tsk, tsk," you let out as you part, your noses still connected, gazes steady on each other. "Are you sure it's just a kiss you want, sir?"

He chuckles, "Love, when have we ever stopped at just a kiss?"

Lyney

"Hm?" Lyney chides with a smile as he feels you become comfortable on his lap. He laughs when he realizes that you were not planning on leaving anytime soon. "Hello there my rose," His arms wrap around your waist, and his head rests on your back, snuggling into the warmth of it. He looks almost like a cat purring and rubbing onto their favourite scratching post.

It tickles you the slightest bit, so you bristle with soft laughter. "Lyney!" You warn, and he returns your sunny laugh with a chuckle, but doesn't let go.

"What's wrong, love?" He feigns innocence but now has resorted to placing butterfly kisses up and down your spine, taking a moment to lightly nip at the back of your neck before kissing back down again in a line.

By now you know he's doing it on purpose, so you twist around on his lap, and give him a half-hearted glare. "If you wanted kisses all you had to do was ask,"

Lyney finally pulls back and smirks, that same smirk that shows up when he's at the climax of a magic trick, about to reveal the grandest part. He leans back on the chair he's sitting on, placing both arms on the rests before lifting a hand up, wrists flicking upwards in a motion to beckon you over. "Well come now," the same hand tilts your chin gently towards his direction as he whispers, tongue briefly grazing over his lips, "Let me show you a real magic trick,"

Neuvillette

Neuvillette embraces you in and it almost feels like you're floating on a cloud, weightlessly relaxing in the air. His clothes help to cushion you, but at the same time Neuvillette himself is as warm as a fireplace and comfy as a sea of feathers. It feels safe in the arms of the Chief Justice, as if no harm will come to you. Sometimes you forget that you're in the presence of such an important man.

You almost always end up sliding down the slightest bit, the back of your head resting on his chest, his arm secured around your stomach. "Would you like to retire for the day?" he asks, and this is his code to ask you if you would like for him to stop working and walk back home with you.

"No, don't mind me," you whisper, burrowing further into him. You hear him sigh contentedly. With you, Neuvillette is lovestruck. Whatever is within his power, he would do it for you. He takes your hand and briefly presses his lips on the back of it. "Alright," and just like that he brings the paperwork back into his hands. Reading his notes and documents--highly confidential, by the way. Something that you shouldn't be reading--but he trusts you more than he trusts himself and that was dangerous, for someone like him.

If there ever came a day where you broke his trust, Neuvillette would most likely never trust another soul again. You alone was his deity of truth.

Scaramouche...Ruthless Prince Scaramouche?

"Whadd'you think you're doing?" his eye twitches as you jump on his lap. You glance backwards at him before turning away once again. "Getting comfy," you reply nonchalantly.

"Getting com--" the rest of the words were mumbled, you didn't catch the whole thing but it did sound like he said a very garbled and muffled "my ass" at the end of it. You ignore him and happily stay, humming as you read a book while you're at it.

Scaramouche glares at your back, taking a deep, long breath. For a moment he contemplated on just letting you do it, but the other part of him wanted to just push you off and let your butt painfully land on the ground.

As you were peacefully reading, you suddenly feel his forehead bump your back, though he wasn't holding nor hugging you at all. He stayed like that for a bit, as if he was praying to some God he believed--or didn't believe--in. After a moment he grumbles something more, but now has a firm arm around your waist.

He repositions, opening his legs a bit more to give you more space to rest in between them and then leaning forward to lazily loll his head on your shoulder, looking at the book you were reading. "...What trash are you reading now?" but his tone of voice had levelled off to calm, nearly peaceful.

"...101 ways to annoy your husband," you secretly grin when you hear him scoff. His hand finds its way to the spine of the book you're reading and easily grabs and flings it off to the side.

"You do that plenty, you don't need more ideas," his hold on you gets a little tighter, as if he wasn't going to let you go anytime soon. "Y'know what I've been reading lately...?" you feel his lips against your neck in a chaste kiss but in the next moment you feel a slight nip that sends electricity down your whole being.

"Hm?" You ask absentmindedly, the question doesn't completely register in your mind, what with his hand edging closer to the hem of your shirt, brushing against the bare skin of your waist. He breathes the next words into your ear huskily, his hand sliding upwards, and you feel a shiver making its way to your shoulders.

"101 ways to make you scream,"

[boysbellyrubs]

Can we get Alistair with the stomach flu 🙏🙏

thanks for the ask, another anon also asked for this so here you go :)

—-

Alistair was used to getting stomach aches; he often ate food that he knew would upset his stomach, ate too much, or just was chosen that day to suffer with a tummy ache. He was very brave about it, okay! However, bravery was lost for this stomach ache. Along with an achy belly, he was feeling lightheaded, sweaty, nauseous and couldn’t stop his hands from shaking. There was no doubt about the fact that he was definitely sick.

He was unsure where he would have picked up a stomach bug. It could have been from stress, as right now his drama class were preparing for their annual production and he was one of the lead roles. The line learning stage had passed, but they were still touching up some of the blocking on some scenes, which meant he was focusing very hard to quickly write everything down before the director moved on. As he was writing, he could physically feel his pencil slipping in his grip; his sweaty hands making writing nearly impossible.

The others around him were already finished writing in their notes when he looked up, and were staring at him. He felt his insides curdle.

“Sorry, butter fingers today.” He joked. Most of the cast giggled a little, but the director was giving him a stern look. Alistair needed to pull himself together, he only had another hour to go. He could do this.

The scene played out more, and Alistair was now giving one of his monologues. He tried his best to not look down at his script, and project to the audience. Nikau was down there, watching him while he waited for his part. Alistair’s couldn’t help but move his eyes over to him, smiling and looking proud of his boyfriend.

“Alistair! Focus please, we need to see more emotion. It sounds like you’re reading from the script.” The director yelled, cutting off his words. He looked over to her, the room spinning. He stumbled a bit,

“Yep.” He quickly said, trying to keep his stomach in place. Standing up for so long was terrible for his head, his feet weren’t his own and he swore the stage lights were making little figure eight movements. Alistair looked down, desperately trying to compose himself. He wasn't about to have a ‘Pitch Perfect’ moment.

Thankfully, he got through his monologue without any more issues and he was allowed a break. He rushed off stage, one hand sitting gingerly on his belly and the other carding through his sweaty hair. Alistair felt like he was dying, the air around him was too warm and suffocating, the smell of old costumes and props filled his nostrils and he nearly gagged. Without even thinking, he went out the backstage door and into the carpark, breathing heavily through his nose.

The fresh air did wonders for his head, but now the smell of petrol and rubbish replaced the mothball stench and he doubled over with a hearty heave. Nothing came up. His chest seized and a cough sputtered out of his mouth. Alistair had to stabilise himself on the wall next to him, forehead meeting the cold concrete. Stomach now worked up, he felt his lunch bubble and churn inside him, desperate to be out.

He moaned, “Fuckk,” rubbing his stomach did little, he was going to throw up in this grotty car park like a drunk, “Where’s Nikau when I need him.”

Alistair was swallowing thickly and rapidly, holding back burps and gags like his life depended on it. The cool wall was doing little for his scorching fever and he forced himself to crouch down as the nausea ramped up to a 10. He whined, saliva gathering in his mouth. It hit him in an instant; a burp and then a loud gag and suddenly his lunch was splattered in front of him. When the first lot came out, it prompted everything else to and soon enough he was spitting up more vomit.

It burned his throat and chest, and his gags were throaty and knocked him off his feet. His knees hit the ground harshly, and he quickly caught himself with his hands, splashing into the puddle of vomit. He lost control and coughed up another round, disgusted with himself and the mess he was making. He wondered if any passersby were staring at him. Alistair groaned at his stomach churning, still nauseous and angry despite most of his lunch being in front of his face.

At least he had crouched down first before he got sick, with the way his head was spinning he didn’t think he would have been able to stand up properly. He was also thankful it was cloudy today; having the sun shining down on his overheating body would have tipped him over the edge.

Alistair spat a little before sitting back on his feet. His hands were splattered with sick, and he shook them a little before letting them sit palm up on his thighs. He was a pitiful sight. He swore he was swaying on the spot, ground sloshing around like the bile in his tummy. He thought about going back inside, but then made eye contact with his vomit soaked knees and thought maybe it was better to just stay out here. Perhaps he would die out here, covered in vomit. God what a sight that would be.

His stomach gurgled. It was still very upset and hurt like a bitch. Alistair threw his head back, closing his eyes as the cramp tore through his body. A lone raindrop landed on his forehead. Well, at least the rain could clean up his mess easily. More rain fell and soon Alistair was just sitting out in the rain, sick and tired. His classmates were probably wondering what he was doing. He didn’t really care. He just needed his bed, and maybe his boyfriend.

His boyfriend. Nikau was definitely wondering where he had gone. Alistair’s phone was in his back pocket, and with now semi clean hands he pulled it out. He flicked a text to Nikau and waited. The door flew open, hurting Alistair’s head. But then, he saw Nikau crouching down next to him, touching him all over and wiping away some of the hair stuck to his face.

“Oh my gosh, Star, have you been out here this whole time?” He looked at the remnants of vomit on the concrete, “Oh, jeez. I had a feeling. You didn’t look so good on stage.”

Alistair looked at him, giving a small smile, “Yeah. Feel awful,” His stomach chose that moment to gurgle and cramp again, and he winced. The rain was now starting to make him shiver, and he was pissed that his jeans were now wet, “Can you take me home?” Nikau nodded and muttered ‘yes’ before gently lifting Alistair up.

“You’ve got a bad fever, sweetheart. You’re like a heater.”

“Yeah.” He leaned into Nikau, using Nikau’s steps to make his own. He kept his eyes closed, needing the darkness to not throw up again. He heard the whispers of his classmates and tried his best to focus on Nikau’s hands.

He opened his eyes and recognised the carpet of the audience seating, and waited for Nikau to gather up all their stuff. The director came over to the two.

“Alistair? Where have you been?” She looked him up and down, noticing his saturated clothes.

Alistair shuffled his feet sheepishly, “I’m sorry, I’m not feeling very well Miss. I need to head home.” He said those words and she took a couple steps back, but spoke with a gentle tone.

“That’s okay. Email me if we need to call in your understudy.” Alistair saw a small smile on her face and then she was gone, shouting again at the rest of the cast. Nikau rubbed his arm with his knuckles,

“Ready to go?” Alistair nodded, turning to his boyfriend. Nikau guided him out of the door and to the car. It was bliss to sit down, and he leaned back in the seat. However, he wasn’t excited for the drive home.

“Try and drive careful?” He asked, already holding his belly. Nikau hummed in confirmation and set off.

As they were driving, Alistair could feel every little movement the car made and it translated to tidal waves in his brain. He was so dizzy. It was a mission to keep his head still, while also feeling like his stomach was going to explode out of him once again. Alistair’s hands were shaky and warm, fingers digging into his cramping stomach.

Because he had terrible luck, the underlying nausea turned into full blown nausea and he jolted in his seat. Suddenly, it felt like he was being thrown into lava and was seconds away from puking. He made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, hand tightly over his mouth. He heard Nikau curse, and then a bag was in his lap. Without questioning where he got it from, Alistair promptly puked into it. His back curled, his fingers held onto the bag like a lifeline.

The cars movement did nothing for him. No matter how hard he tried it felt like he was spinning, “Oh, Nikau, I’m-” he gagged, “everything is spinning.” He whined, unable to say anymore as he gagged again. Nikau had rolled the windows down, cool air washing over him. Alistair sat back as far as he could, holding the bag up to his mouth just in case. He needed stability.

“That’s it, Star. Just breathe. Relax, you’re sitting perfectly still.” Nikau’s words calmed him a little. He moaned as he felt the urge to gag again, and spat up a little more bile. He dropped one hand to his stomach, if he didn’t hold it he felt like it would slip out from inside him. The nausea slowly passed, and he was able to tighten off the top of the bag and hold it down by his feet.

“You good?” He was at a red light.

“Yeah, I think so.” Alistair murmured. His throat was scratchy and sore, his body was aching. He kept his eyes closed, and when that didn’t work he chose to look out the window. He kept his eyes locked on one spot in the horizon, and watched as the roads slowly got smaller and soon he was looking at their front door of their flat. Nikau’s hand was heavy on his knee.

“Come on, sickie. I know you’re feeling terrible.” Alistair whined at him. It was heavenly to finally get inside and lie down, with clean, comfy clothes and Alistair curled up on his side. The day’s events finally caught up to him and he felt his muscles slowly lose their tension. Nikau knelt down next to his face.

“I’m sorry to do this to you, but I wanna get some medicine in you. That fever is concerning,” He touched Alistair’s forehead, warm and sweaty. He tsked through his teeth, “You should’ve told me sooner you weren’t feeling good.”

Alistair murmured. Nikau was right, “Sorry. I thought I could get through rehearsal.” His head spun, a quick bout of vertigo forcing him to close his eyes.

“It’s okay. Are you dizzy?” Alistair nodded his head minutely, whining a little. He felt Nikau’s warm hands travel down his body and then he felt a kiss planted on his forehead.

Alistair felt Nikau’s presence disappear, and so he rolled onto his back gingerly, keeping his head still and placing a hand on his stomach. It was still hurting him, and was bloated and gross. The gurgles were sickly and he was probably going to be puking all night. Oh, he was so excited. Nikau returned, carrying the proper materials for a sick night. He gently forced Alistair to take some medicine, and then to make up for it, he lied down next to Alistair with the promise of rubbing his belly.

“I’m sorry you’re so sick, sweetheart.” Nikau whispered into Alistair’s hair.

“Mm, it sucks. But, you make me feel good.”

“Okay, I’m glad. Just rest, Star.”

[bitchface24-7]

SUCCUBUS - VIKTOR X READER

synopsis: Viktor needs help building a prototype, he can’t do certain tasks due to his back and his leg. Jayce has the flu and decided to quarantine himself away from the lab, which leaves you. You have no problem coming in on your day off, you just aren’t in your usual academy approved outfits. You’re in your casual style that Viktor’s never seen before. You think he may have an aneurysm when he does.

warnings: y’all got a spider lower abdomen tattoo, you mention your past nickname from the undercity (black widow), flustered Viktor, flirty reader, suggestiveness, Grammarly is my beta

genre: m/f or m/m

p.s. This random idea popped into my head before I decided to take a nap, hope y'all like it LMAO

Viktor groans in frustration. He needs help soldering the wires at the bottom of the contraption, he can't do it himself. His back and leg won't allow for it.

He knows Jayce would help in a heartbeat, but he's sick right now with the flu and decided the best course of action is to self-quarantine until he was able to beat the virus. Viktor can't fault him for that.

So he calls you instead. He knows this is your scheduled day off, and he hopes you come. This is all he needs help with, after that he's golden. You can leave (if you want) and still have the rest of the day to yourself. He’ll only need you for about half an hour to an hour at most.

You of course come. Viktor rarely asks for help, so for him to willingly call you and ask as sweetly as he did, well you can't refuse.

It didn't click in your mind that you're in casual clothes, not the academy-approved uniform of slacks, a button-down, and, vest combo.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Viktor’s ears perk when he hears the lab doors open. He knows it’s you, the lab was locked before you came in.

He's doing some note-taking and minor adjustments to the prototype as he talks, not looking up from his work, “You came, great! I apologize for calling you on your day off, I just need help with one small task then you're free to go. It should only take about half an hour to an hour of your time.”

“Ok, sweet! Where do you need me.”

“I need you—” Viktor stops talking as he turns around to look at you, his voice caught in his throat. You're not in academy uniform, is his first thought. He almost hits himself on the forehead cause, no duh! It’s your day off!

His second thought is holy shit goddamn what the fuck. You're in casual clothing, and Viktor is trying to sear this into his memory. You're in a plain black t-shirt that stops a little ways above your belly button, low rise blue jeans, and a pair of simple leather boots. The main part that caught Viktor's eye is the spider tattoo drapped casually across your lower abdomen.

There's so much skin on display Viktor doesn't know where to look.

“I—uh—hmm— I need you to solder some wires for me on the bottom of the prototype, on the underside.” Viktor stutters as he darts his gaze across your body.

“Ok, no biggie. Got a crawler for me?” You ask as you look the prototype over, not even realizing the lecherous gaze Viktor has on your body.

“Right here.” He states as he pushes the crawler towards you with his good leg, “All the tools you need are ready to use as well.”

You smile at the pretty man and plop yourself onto the crawler, putting your safety equipment on, you roll under the prototype.

“So connect the wires to the same coloured points correct?” You ask, confirming your assumption.

Viktor hums as he checks out your stretched out body. He gets to see your tattoo in its full glory, your hip bones, the band of your underwear.

“What? Oh yes. Connect the wires to their matching points.”

You snort at his distracted state, what the hell has gotten into him? This is odd, but you just do what your told and help your partner out.

The lab is in a comfortable silence as you work. You assume Viktor is note-taking, while in reality he's checking you out.

Is this how you normally dress? Viktor wouldn't know. He only ever sees you in the lab. You look nice, really nice. Too nice. You're very distracting and Viktor is thankful you don’t dress like that in the lab; no work would get done otherwise.

Viktor in his daze, hasn't realized you stopped working a few minutes ago, and are currently looking at him with a smug look on your face.

“See something you like?”

“Huh? What? I—um. I don't know what you're talking about?!”

“Uh-huh.”

“… Why’d you get that tattoo?”

You smirk at him, getting up off the crawler and dusting imaginary dust off yourself as you take off your protective gear, “It’s a bit of an inside joke. I would protect the working girls and guys against violence. When one of the customer didn't treat them right; I'd teach them a lesson. I always seduced them beforehand before beating the shit out of them or… getting rid of them. One of the workers called be a black widow and it stuck.” You say casually with a shrug.

Viktor’s eyes just widen. That’s one hell of an inside joke; he doesn’t realize he said it out loud until he hears your cackle of a laugh.

“I’ve got more, wanna see ‘em?” You say teasingly, crossing your arms over your chest. Viktor just nods silently.

You laugh at his immediate agreement, “Can’t do it here, it’d be considered public indecency if I just started to strip.”

Man screw this prototype, Viktor just found something much more exciting to observe and work on.

“Your place or mine?” Viktor jokingly asks and you can’t help but laugh. What a charmer this guy is.

You can’t wait to see all his other reactions to your tattoos.

This is short but lowkey it’s tasty. Go reader go! You got this man stuttering and eyeing you down 😏

[gay-dorito-dust]

Idk if your requests are open, but if they are, can you do batboys when the reader has a flu or something like that??🙏

My requests are open! But I would some fun, fluff stuff as I’ve been going through some personal stuff that have been affecting my focus and other things, leaving me a little more less then eager to do much of anything really. I’ll try to keep writing but i can only guarantee so much.

Dick is probably patting your back with a broom from another room

kidding! Dick would be very attentive and sweet when you have the flu as he would have everything you need in bulk and smother you beneath several thick blankets, tightly tucked and everything to the point you couldn’t even move a pinky, much to his amusement.

Hayley also acts as a massive help in your recovery or should we say nurse Hayley as dick would have the poor dog dress up for the bit…only for Hayley to grow bored and take her outfit off, all the while Dick becomes dramatic at how his loyal nurse has just up and quit on the job because she wasn’t get any treat treats for her service.

It was high entertainment for you as you’d watch Hayley come back into the room and tuck herself next to you on the bed, whining for your attention as she exposes her belly towards you, and who were you to ignore the cutie? You give her the belly rubs she deserves for putting up with Dick and his antics.

Other then giving you what you wanted (Hayley) dick would make sure to take care of you, going so far as to even tell you a story of his brothers to help you sleep if you couldn’t find it within yourself to do so. Dick is more than happy to risk getting sick just to cuddle you and give you a plethora of kisses, why? Apparently he couldn’t help but give you affection when you looked like a wet puppy. So when you tell him that he shouldn’t be surprised when he becomes sick himself, he only laughs and says that his immune system was good enough to prevent himself from getting sick easily, however he does indeed get sick the next day and acts surprised by it too.

‘I told you not to cuddle me, you’d get sick.’ You tell him through chuckles.

‘And leave you without knowing my love? No way, if anything it was worth the risk.’ He replies as he smiles at you before covering his mouth to cough, making you sigh sympathetically. ‘You’ll be okay.’ You reassured him as you rubbed his back soothingly, ‘I’ll even bring nurse Hayley to help bring you back to full health.’ You add.

Damian is far more stern with you when you get ill. There’s no excuses when it comes to avoiding your medication because Damian will find a way to slip the medicine into your system regardless. Seriously he’ll sneak it into your food when you’re not looking for he didn’t want your stubbornness towards the weird tasting medicine to hinder your recovery process, finding this seemingly childish reaction of yours rather ridiculous.

He often ponders whether you wanted to get better or not with how often you seemed to rebuke the medicine he gave, but he was only doing this for your own good and that was a good enough drive for him to taking care of you to full health once more.

Yet while he might have some grievances of taking care of you, he didn’t mind the idea of being your caretaker as it meant getting to be soft with you, as if he wasn’t already but the fact that you were sick only made Damian treat you more like porcelain. He would even have Titus, Ace and Alfred the cat to keep you company when he knew you were feeling a little down from time to time just to see you smile again when the dogs licked your face, whereas Alfred would be purring contently in your lap.

He knew being sick was your idea and he would always remind you that he wasn’t upset at you for it, but he just hopes that this acts as a lesson to be more carful in the future, all the while coming up with some drawing activities with you to pass the time; which ends up being a ton of fun and an absolute laugh when you see Damian genuinely try to be bad a drawing but only for it to come out better then most of the things you produced.

Jason is another one who’s rather strict about taking care of you, much like how he would be rather straightforward and blunt when you needed to eat, Jason wouldn’t let you move a single finger when you were found to be sick with the flu.

Wear all the hoodies of his that you can get your hands on, he doesn’t mind as long as it would keep you warm and comfortable, because until the day you were better he was going to wait on you hand and foot by giving you the needed medication or brining in food and water throughout the day.

Jason didn’t care what he had to do because as long as he could take care of you to the best of his abilities then that was more then enough for him, he’d even take some time away from patrol as he didn’t feel comfortable leaving you within your shared home when you were in a vulnerable state.

Thankfully Gotham wasn’t in as much need for him when his brothers Dick, Tim, Duke and Damian were overseeing the city in his absence, it helped take his mind off of that aspect while he was taking care of you by frequently checking your body temperature or make you soup, and or being there to comfort you should you feel the need to empty your stomach. Jason could fully bring his attention to you like he should and you needn’t worry about waking him up early in the morning, or even late at night because Jason was more then willing to get whatever it was you needed without compliant.

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

If You'll Have Me

A/N: Finally, this is here. Got this request back in March I think so anon, here ya go, sorry it took so long. Pairing: Megumi x Fem! Reader *(Both are 21 here) Warnings: Angst, breakup, pregnancy

It rained the day Megumi broke up with you. He sat there on your sofa, looking detached and apologetic, and you felt like your heart might choke you to death, the way it pounded frantically in your chest.

“I gave you everything!” You whispered furiously. “I supported you! Waited long hours for you to get home, without knowing what may have happened to you! I looked after Tsumiki when she became bedridden!”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Megumi’s eyes are like dark tunnels, with not a trace of warmth or emotion in them. “With everything that’s happened…I don’t feel like I’m worthy of you.”

“Oh, how noble of you!” You spat, feeling utterly humiliated. “I suppose you’ll say it’s not me, it's you?” 

“It is me. I see the fear in your eyes whenever I leave you for a mission. I hear the pain in your voice when I tell you I’m coming home late. I hate being the person that makes you feel that way. You’re such a good person. That’s why I think you’d be better off without me.”

“Get out.” You managed to squeeze the words past your tightening throat, your eyes stinging painfully, tears spilling from them. Wordlessly, Megumi gets up and walks towards the door.

Perhaps you’d been daring him to go because your heart stopped for a second as he got to the door. Part of you wished he’d stop, look at you, and gather you close, saying he couldn’t live without you. You’re begging him with your being to not throw this away. 

He’s supposed to stop, isn’t he? He’s supposed to realize he’s being irrational, that there’s no one better than him for you? You were a pair, meant to be. His look haunts you as he turns the doorknob.

“I’m sorry,” he says brokenly, before disappearing into the rain. 

You stood there, watching the downpour, feeling your heart crack and splinter, like a delicate teacup that had fallen from a shelf, no safe hands ready to catch it and prevent it from falling to its doom. 

.・。.・゜✭・.

A month later, you feel exhausted, more than usual. Getting out of bed feels like a chore. Your back and feet hurt, and nothing stays in your stomach. You try everything. Soup, saltine crackers, toast, applesauce. Whatever you ate made you nauseated and dizzy. 

You started worrying you had caught a really persistent form of the flu, but when your period didn’t start, you felt a wave of dread. 

Now, as you stared at the positive pregnancy test in your hands, you felt like someone had torn your body open, invisible wounds reopening and stinging afresh, chaotically spilling your feelings everywhere. 

“You need to tell him.” Gojo leans back in his chair, assessing you critically. You look at him coldly, cursing his six-eyes technique.

“I do not. And it’s none of your fucking business.”

“It is. Believe me when I say Megumi will not shirk his duties as a father. It would devastate him if he ever gets to know he has a child and that he was absent from its life.”

“How can you possibly assume that?” You cross your arms over your still flat belly and glare at him. Like it wasn’t bad enough that you were Megumi’s ex, now you were knocked up with his baby. “He wanted nothing to do with me. That man was barely able to keep promises to me as his girlfriend. What makes you think he’s going to step up and be a father to a child he probably doesn't want?”

“Because he knows what it’s like to be that child,” Gojo says the words quietly but with a firm edge that had you staring at him in disbelief.

“What?”

“Has Megumi ever told you about his dad?” Your silence says it all and Gojo narrows his eyes. “He’ll probably want my head if he ever finds out I told you this but I think it’s necessary.” Gojo sighs deeply and continues.

“Megumi’s dad loved him. But he simply wasn’t fit to be a parent. He abandoned Megumi and Tsumiki. Megumi was 7 years old at the time.”

You blink back tears as Gojo continues. “Megumi grew up as my ward. I don’t pretend to be his dad, but I can’t just let this slide. I understand you probably harbor resentment towards him, but cutting him out of this decision isn’t the right way to go about it.”

“I don’t want him to feel like he has any obligations towards me because of the baby. That’s the only reason he’d try to get in touch with me now, right?” You can’t forgive him for deciding to walk out of your life just yet, no matter what his childhood was like. 

“How long do you think you can keep this a secret? Megumi might not be around that much anymore, but you’ll start to show soon enough. If not me, someone else will tell him.”

Your expression hardens and you stand up with steely resolution coursing in your veins. “Thank you for your opinion. But the last I checked, though it takes two to make a baby, it only takes one to raise it.”

You pack your belongings and urgently move out of Tokyo by the end of the week.

.・。.・゜✭・.

Surprisingly, no one comes to bother you. You start over and manage to find work at a small accounting firm as a secretary. Your boss is sympathetic to your situation and doesn’t give you a hard time about needing maternity leave. Everything is going well despite the constant worry about running into someone from the jujutsu world but so far, nothing has happened. Your tummy swells and grows, the baby healthy and full of life. It brings you joy, knowing you carry this little being inside you.

One night, you wake up with a strange feeling inside your abdomen. Worried that the stress was getting to you as you entered your eighth month of pregnancy, you restlessly forced yourself out of bed and tried walking around the small apartment to ease your nerves.

It was a curious sensation, like something unseen was flowing through your veins, not sinister but a little unsettling. You place a hand on your swollen middle in hopes of soothing the baby then freeze when you feel the flow of cursed energy in your womb. 

You’d heard it wasn’t uncommon for sorcerer babies to begin regulating and channeling their cursed energy in utero, but it filled you with awe at how familiar the energy signature was to Megumi’s, vitality coursing under your fingertips as you felt it kick and turn. 

A soft rustling has you turning in panic, a gasp escaping your lips as you see 2 dog-like figures padding over to you from nowhere, their eyes glowing in the dark. Up close, you recognize them as Megumi’s divine dogs, their tails wagging as they approach you.

Motherly instinct has you clutching your stomach and angling away from them. Had Megumi finally figured out the truth? But the dogs’ demeanor didn’t seem to match that scenario. If anything, they looked curious and friendly. One of them finally gets close enough to nose your belly with its snout, before nuzzling the bump affectionately, which the other one mirrors. You watch in silent fascination, then feel a surge of energy from your womb. 

The baby was responding to the dogs. 

They recognized it as their owner. The dogs weren’t here because of Megumi. The baby had subconsciously summoned them. With a shaky hand, you pet both of them, seeing their eyes close happily. They bring back memories of Megumi and your eyes fill with tears.

“Does he want to be a father?” You ask them. They look at you with intense yellow eyes and before you can say anything else, vanish in a blink. 

.・。.・゜✭・.

The day the baby arrives is one of the happiest and emotionally draining days of your life. You lay on the labor bed, gripping the sheets as the contractions relentlessly come and go, each more painful than the last. 

You almost scream, not from the pain but in shock, as something noses your hand. Turning, you see the divine dogs at the side of the bed, unseen to the normal humans. You could’ve wept with relief, knowing you weren’t quite alone. You pet them and grip their fur as you finally deliver your baby boy into the world. 

The small pink bundle was a miniature of Megumi, the beautiful black hair plastered to its little head, screaming with the rage of life. With shaky hands you accept him, your heart so full of love you feel like it could burst. You’re so occupied that you don’t notice the divine dogs quietly padding outside, tails wagging, as someone lingers near the door.

Megumi has tears in his eyes as he hides just outside the room. He sees his child, and you, the person he loves and cherishes. You’re cooing at the baby, getting him settled down to suckle, his little hand wrapped around your finger so tightly.

Megumi balls his hands into fists feeling his fingernails dig into his palm, emotions raging through him. He’s so glad the two of you are healthy, and there’s regret for his mistakes of the past. He understands why you left Tokyo. You were a proud woman, independent, determined to not need him after he’d broken up with you. It wasn’t like you to grovel or beg. He was sure if the baby hadn’t summoned the divine dogs by accident, he would’ve never found you. 

Yet he felt like an intruder, an outsider, unworthy of entering the room. He understands what he broke the day he left and it eats away at his soul knowing that he was the reason you didn’t come to him after finding out you were pregnant. It had taken so long for you to let your walls down, to learn to depend on him finally, and in an instant, he had taken that away from you, the one thing you had avoided for so long; the need to rely on others.

It was that which drove you, the shattered dependability, and he remembered how long it had taken to reassure you to be less guarded on that front. He was awful, no better than his own father. But he had to try. He knocks on the door.

You turn, breath catching when you see him in the doorway.

“Hi.” He tries to not let his tears show, but when your eyes fill, he can’t contain himself. He closes the gap and embraces both of you as you sob uncontrollably into his shoulder.  

.・。.・゜✭・.

Megumi sleeps on the sofa, taking care of his child with such tenderness and love. He relearns everything about you, appreciating all that you are. It takes time but the relationship rebuilds steadily.

“How did Gojo not rat me out?” you ask one evening as Megumi cooks dinner while you cuddle the baby on the sofa. 

Megumi pauses, and looks over uncertainly. “He did.”

“He did?” 

“Yeah.” Megumi’s voice is low. “He told me and said I’d regret it if I didn’t try to find you. I was a coward.” He turns the stove burner off and faces you. “I never stopped thinking about you. You were the best thing to ever happen to me. I still believe I’m not your equal, and I never will be. You were my home base. The single person holding my life together. How much more could I ask you to do?”

He joins you on the sofa, taking his son into his arms, rocking him softly as he starts to doze off. “I was so scared to ask you to forgive me. I felt like a hypocrite, reassuring you all these years that it’s ok to depend on me, and then taking that security away from you. I was the worst kind of asshole. But I knew I couldn’t be a deadbeat father. I looked for you. But you did such a good job covering up your tracks. Honestly, if the baby hadn’t summoned the divine dogs, I probably would have never caught on.”

The baby yawns and drifts off to sleep in his arms. Megumi stares at the little face, unable to forgive himself for what he almost missed out on.

“I want us to be all right. I want us to be a family. Can we?” He looks at you with doubt, knowing if you said no, it was well within your right.

You take the baby from his arms, carefully settling him down in the portable bassinet next to the sofa, and take Megumi’s face in between your hands.

“Yes,” you whisper, your voice choking up. 

Megumi pulls you against him tightly. “I love you so much. I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure to live up to being your equal.”

You nod, letting your tears flow freely.

“I love you too.”

all dividers and banners by @/ cafekitsune

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[drarrily-we-row-along]

Winter Flu

"Absolutely not, Potter," Draco said, trying to close his door in Harry's face.

Harry laughed, "Stop being ridiculous," he said, pushing at the door to Draco's room.

"I'm not," he said, "while I appreciate that it is our tradition to grade papers together on Friday night before we watch a movie, I cannot take that chance today."

"Draco-"

"No," he said again. "Matilda Bagweather has that horrible winter flu and you didn't have the good sense to send her out of your classroom. You've exposed yourself to it and I'm not interested in getting sick."

The door closed firmly in his face and Harry sighed, letting his forehead drop against the door. This couldn't be happening to him. Not today. Not when he'd planned to-

"Draco," he called, knocking on the door again.

"Go away, Potter!"

"I brought a Christmas movie," he cajoled. "You're really going to like this one." He was certain about White Christmas, Draco was a sucker for cheesy love stories.

The door opened a crack and Harry wiggled the DVD so he could see it. "Are you feeling any symptoms? Any scratchiness of throat, tickling in the ears, are your eyes watering?"

He rolled his eyes, "I feel fine. I feel great, actually. I just wanted to watch this movie with you."

Draco debated for a moment, Harry could see it playing out on his face, then after what felt like an eternity, the door fell open. "Fine. But you're sitting at the other end of the sofa."

-----

An hour into the movie and Draco's head was where it always ended up, in Harry's lap. And Harry certainly wasn't complaining. He combed his fingers through Draco's hair, scratching lightly at Draco's scalp with his nails, like he knew Draco enjoyed from a great deal of trial and error.

He'd slipped right into Harry's lap as he argued with the movie:

"Why is she upset?" "Why wouldn't she just talk to him!" "For Cirice's sake, getting engaged isn't going to help!" "Do you see now what could have been avoided if you'd just talked to him, you silly woman?"

But none of the ranting stopped Draco from tearing up when the General stepped into the room and everyone started applauding.

He sat up and reached for a tissue on the table, sniffling and hair askew from Harry's fingers, and Harry loved him and loved him and loved him. Godric it wasn't healthy to love someone this much. To want nothing more than to look at them and make them happy.

"I don't know why they always have to be so emotional," Draco said, turning to look at Harry. "What?" he asked, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I'd just really like to kiss you," he said because he'd decided that tonight was the night. No more waiting, no more holding his feelings in. It wasn't quite how he'd planned it but it would do.

"What?"

Harry shrugged unrepentantly, "I would like to kiss you," he repeated.

"Well then why haven't you?" Draco asked, sounding affronted now.

He laughed, "Well I thought I'd get your approval first."

"You have it," Draco said, "so what are you waiting for? Do I have to do everything my-"

Harry leaned in and kissed him, soft and sweet, making the butterflies in his belly take flight all around his body.

"Oh," Draco breathed when Harry drew back. "I think you should do that again."

He grinned and cupped the back of Draco's head as he leaned in to kiss him once more. When he moved away he murmured, "You're missing the ending."

Draco blinked at him and Harry nodded to the screen as the barn doors opened and the snow appeared like a backdrop. Draco leaned back against Harry and Harry wrapped an arm around him, drawing him even closer.

When the movie finished, Harry squeezed him and pressed a kiss to his cheek before he shifted and stood up.

"Where do you think you're going?"

He grinned and leaned down to press a soft, short kiss to Draco's lips once more. "My own room."

Draco raised an imperious eyebrow but Harry spoke up first.

"I want to do this right," he said softly. "I want to woo you, I want you to feel pursued. I want this to be something that lasts."

Draco blinked up at him, that guarded part of him falling away, leaving him looking young and unbearably sweet.

"You're too important to me to rush this. So," he said with a fortifying nod, "I'm going to give you one more kiss, and then I'm going to leave." He nudged Draco's foot with his own, "but before I do, I wanted to ask, would you come with me to Hogsmeade tomorrow?"

"Like a date?"

"Yes, Professor Malfoy, exactly like a date."

He smiled and stood up, wrapping his arms around Harry's neck, "Yes," he murmured, leaning in to steal a quick kiss. "I'd love to."

----------

By the time the two of them did get the Winter Flu six weeks later, they were both all too happy to spend the time cocooned in a room, watching movies together while they recovered.

[aching-tummies]

Cold/Flu Belly

I caught a nasty cold or flu a while back. Unfortunately, the medications I have at home to tackle it don't cover everything. There's a cough syrup that's effective against the different kinds of congestion, but it does nothing for a spiking fever or the fact that after the menthol wears off my throat and ear canals are on fire so I end up trying to run mental calculations on how many hours to wait before taking a dose of fever-reducer/pain medications.

Anyway, there was one night that I spent between 10:30PM and 4:37AM running these mental calculations for meds and trying to figure out how to quell the symptoms enough to actually sleep (I was awake the whole time, not for lack of trying to sleep though). I remember taking another dose of cough syrup around 3AM and then at 3:55AM deciding that the fever-symptoms were making it impossible to sleep so I bit the bullet and took a fever-reducer then too. I usually try to space out different meds at least 2 hours but I'd been trying and failing to sleep since 10:30PM.

My stomach was empty aside from the meds--if any of it made it to my stomach--the syrup mostly coated my esophagus so maybe only half a mouthful or less actually made it into my stomach. And the fever-reducer kept getting stuck somewhere on the way down so I kept chugging from my water bottle until it went down far enough. My stomach made a few loud growls as the water gurgled into an otherwise empty space.

The next day, I woke up around 10:50AM and my stomach was gurgling. Part of it was hunger, but the noises sounded kind of muffled and 'slimey'? I assume the nastiness in my throat had been trickling into my stomach all night.

I was exhausted, sore all over, hungry, and with my stomach maybe 30% full of sludge and cold/flu medication. RP-scenario prompt? What would you have done to my stomach in this state?

[satorurize]

18+, Satoru and Fem!Reader, reader has a flu and satoru is horny asf, creampie, spooning sex, i can't write anything but vanilla sorry :D

People would generally avoid getting too close to sick people, be grossed out, but not your boyfriend, Satoru. If anything, he turned even more clingy and touchy especially when you were sick.

Satoru feels bad for getting turned on while you're sick, stuffy nose and coarse throat, but he really can't help it when he sees you letting out cute moans as you are making your futile attempts to breathe properly. Or perhaps it's the way you have not been wearing any bras underneath your sweaters, the peaks formed by your pebbled nipples underneath the fabric leaves so much to his imagination and he can't help it but feel his pants get unbearingly tight.

He insists on making you the little spoon to keep you warm, going against any fight you put up saying that he'll get sick too. "Me and sickness? Baby that's like south and south of a magnet, just let me warm you up.."

You don't know what sorcerery Satoru does but he manages to get you in the mood by cooing in your ears, nuzzling his nose at the side of your face while the icy tips of his fingers draw patterns on your belly making your feverish body feel like it was ablaze. "Toru please...more.." you cloy and he feels nothing but accomplishments with how much more whinier you sound from the flu, he smiles dimpled, tooth to tooth.

"I've gotchu baby..patience..gonna make you feel real good" without much warning he slips his fingers inside your panties, a synchronised moan fell out from either of your lips, Satoru felt so connected with you even as he drew generous circles on your clit, letting his fingers gather all your nectared sweetness.

He had his fair share of teasing you in the bedroom when you weren't sick, but now that his baby was dependent on him, even just a little, he wanted to give you all, even the most scorching aspect of his love for you. It was beyond logic to understand why he felt this way just because you were sick.

Satoru slowly but unsparingly pumped his fingers into your heat, his hard on unapologetically pressed against the swell of your ass, which he slowly but surely started grinding against you. You with your eager hands couldn't wait any longer, fumbling single handedly with his trousers to take his cock out, your beloved let out a throaty laugh at your avidity, aiding you by pulling it out and discarding his pants away.

He pulled you in roughly, with a playful raspberry blown on your neck. You were onto peeling off your sweater the moment your boyfriend was completely bare, but he held you down, sneaking his one hand underneath your sweater, pinching and flicking your sensitive nipples while his other held his cock, teasing his angry leaky tip onto your glistening folds as you both spooned.

"Don't you dare take that sweater off baby.. you're so fucking hot in that.."

He bottomed out slowly with a soft grunt, holding your body so impossibly close that even merging together felt distant. He fucks you steady and slow, restraining himself from being frantic and each thrust makes you blissfully feel every inch of him, you're a teary, moaning mess and it was exactly what he wanted to achieve.

He presses you down with all his weight, snaking his arm to entangle his fingers with yours, confining your hand tightly against the mattress. Meanwhile, Satoru is on cloud nine, with the aggrevated warmth of your body, the building balmy environment in your bedroom and the way you were squeezing him.

"Fuck yeah baby...keep doing that, gonna fill this pretty cunt up.." He whines and you nod frenzied from the pleasure, reaching your hand to rub rapid circles on your puffy clit—his moans becoming high pitched indicative of his orgasm.

It only takes a second or two after that he cums, releasing his thick ropey ejaculate in your womb and you clench with an orgasm of your own at the sensation of being filled up, milking every last drop.

He pants with a euphoric grin at your fucked out face, nibbling gently on your cheek before he connects your lips in a tender kiss. He keeps rutting his hips into you, seeing how you are oozing out his cum stuffed in you and it makes him rock hard all over again.

And he didn't mind at all waking up with a fever and a stuffy nose the next morning himself.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

Hiii! Could you imagine one where the reader finds out she's pregnant during one of Spencer's missions and when he comes home she has a crisis and ends up feeling ill and Spencer doesn't know how to help and the reader doesn't know how to tell him she's pregnant. (Both are already married)

i took this opportunity to set my pregnant!reader series into the future cause i already planned for them to have another child. request is tweaked justttt a little.

“my dear sweet penny, can you hit me with a bus? i want this misery to end.” you’ve been hit with the worst stomach bug or flu or just something that’s been lasting since spencer went on his case, five days ago.

your mom took your daughter for the day when you realized you weren’t getting out of bed anytime soon and you called in your reinforcement of one penelope garcia. the case ended yesterday but the team had to stay an extra day due to weather in their state, so penelope has been keeping you company for the past two days. it was nice to have an adult conversation instead of bluey and the same princess movies.

“okay, if you’re pleading for death that means it’s time to head over to a hospital. i don’t want spencer to hypothetically bite my head off if something happens to you.” her bright blonde hair was your shining sun in your darkened bedroom. and her jewelry were loud gongs with each step she took. “i hate to sound like a bitch but can you like, be the opposite of yourself today?” moaning and groaning as you tried pushing off the tossed sheets.

“yeah, you need a doctor. cause and i quote ‘penny if i even say to change yourself i’ve been abducted and that’s an alien.’ hopefully they can give you good drugs.”

at the hospital they took some blood, made you pee and just did a bunch of other check ups when it was shown you were sick with anything. so after an hour or so your doctor renters the sterile room with his clipboard and a poker face. “well, you’re not sick, but you are pregnant. we’ll get an ultrasound in here to check on the fetus.” talk talk talk and then he left again, leaving you and penelope open mouthed shocked.

“holy shit,” breathing out as your hand rubbed over your still small belly. “i told spencer i couldn’t keep my hands to myself.” telling that to the ceiling.

“oh, i’ll have another godchild! i’m so happy to live vicariously through you.” penelope stood at your side and smiled down at you. you turned your head towards her, “you know when they’re older, you’ll be our go-to babysitter then. so just be prepared for that.”

with the ultrasound done they confirmed you were almost done with your first trimester and that left you a bit shocked. you were three months pregnant but didn’t know, now you understand how some of those other ladies feel. but you were excited for another, but then you were done, seriously.

you tried calling spencer after leaving but his phone when to voicemail, but you didn’t think anything of it. probably feel asleep or out doing something with his team. so when you arrived to your mom’s place you were a bit surprised to see your husband holding your daughter and swinging her around.

“you’re back!” penny the first to speak and move further into the home. spencer and anna both turned their heads and smiled at the bright lady. “auntie penny!” your annabeth squealed with an arm out.

she happily took her from spencer’s hold and moved her away so you could talk with spencer. his puppy eyes and downturn mouth made your heart soar, oh how he’s gonna get you into so much trouble.

“you feeling better? your mom said it’s been a week.” pulling you into his hold, cheek pressed into his chest as his palms rubbed over your shoulder blades and spine. you sighed, “yeah, penny took me to the doctor. turns out i wasn’t sick… i was- i am pregnant.”

spencer’s hands stopped and leaned back, “what?” his brows raised into his curling locks. “how far along?” “three months…” biting into your bottom lip as you watched him go through his mental calendar. you both knew your period was irregular, that’s why you didn’t think anything of it.

“so it must’ve been sometime after annie’s fourth birthday,” spencer came to the conclusion. leaned in to peck your forehead, “are you okay with another?” always making sure you were okay with the decision.

you smiled up at him with a twinkle in your eyes, “absolutely.”