#cold feet remedy

[heartless-tate]

Notice Me! | Part two | Azriel X Freader

Azriel x Freader | Part one

Summary: Azriel courting oblivi reader

a/n; Heyy! This is the last part guys! Hope you enjoy 🤗 also I really recommend looking up the meaning of the flowers after you read. 💕

content/trigger warnings; food, cussing, kissing, one or two use y/n, no smut BUT some lust and hints to masturbation, Azriel pining, Cassian being sassy, FEM reader (if you’d like me to make a another post with male reader, message me!) she/her pronouns for reader, rain mention and I think that’s it. If I missed something, feel free to message me on it!💗

You are in a warm bath, infused with the scent of essential oils, a perfect remedy to the grime from your training. You shake the thought out of your head, cursing yourself. Azriel didn’t like you like that. Cassian kisses Feyre on the cheek all the time, so why did it mean anything different if he kissed you? It didn’t mean anything different. But still, ever since he had left for his mission you found yourself running your fingers over your cheek.

It felt as though your skin was ablaze, heat gathering in your thighs. You abruptly reached towards them, water splashing. Halting yourself, you felt a surge of guilt and shame. If Azriel knew what you were thinking, he'd avoid your gaze forever. The thought made you feel sick. You groaned aloud, resting your head against the edge of the tub. You longed for him, missed his enticing cooking and physique. No, just his cooking. You chastised yourself again. Bad thoughts!

Goosebumps arose on your skin. The water had become ice cold. You rose from the water, letting the air chill your skin. Your nipples hardened, and you wondered if it was from your imagination or the cold air. You quickly leaped from the tub, landing on the mat. You wrapped your towel around your body after drying your wet hair.

Your bare feet padded against the floor as you walked out of the bathroom, letting the house magic take care of the leftover water. Your room felt warmer upon entering, soothing you. The room smelt like musk and bourbon. Like Azriel almost. You shivered with delight, stepping to your vanity. You reached for your hair brush, looking into the mirror only to be met with horror.

You yelped in shock, turning to face the shadowsinger. He sat on your bed, holding one of your books. His wings were spread lazily on your covers. He huffed a laugh at your reaction, grinning. “That’s certainly not the welcoming I was expecting.” He concurred smugly.

“Azriel..” You muttered. He was early. And you hadn’t expected him to be here. “How long have you been back?” you asked. He smiled.

“I’ve been here for fifteen minutes waiting for you to get out of,” he paused, his eyes trailing down to your body, “your bath..”

You felt your face heat, suddenly realizing you wore nothing but a small towel. Your body was glistening wet. He looked you back in the eyes with a small smirk.

“Oh cauldron!” You squeaked, wrapping your arms around your body more tightly. He laughed, heartily. Azriel shook his head before standing. He laid your book down and with embarrassment you realized it was one of your more smuttier books. And by that you mean it was pure porn. There was nothing more embarrassing about this situation. He smirked at you again, before taking a few steps towards you. You notice there are fresh flowers on your nightstand now. It was a bouquet of red and pink flowers you hadn't seen before. You’d have to look them up in your flower guide.

“I have a training session where I plan on beating Cas’s ass, but I wanted to see you first. We’ll have lunch in around two hours, okay?” He demanded gently. You nodded shyly, unable to think of a coherent response. He smiled, pleased. He walked forward, and you hoped he would kiss you again. Just not on the cheek. But alas, he pulled you in a hug, his warm muscly body a hard contrast to your cold one. Your right hand held your towel in place, while your left wrapped around him. He shivered, and you figured it was due to your wet hair?

Azriel let go quickly and abruptly and you wondered if you did something wrong. He smiled tightly. “See you in two hours, love.” He whispered affectionately before turning and taking flight from your balcony.

He left you standing there, wet all over, confused, warm, and also shivering. You still couldn’t wrap your head around this feeling you had.

After you changed into a tank top and shorts you approached the flowers on your nightstand. They were gorgeous. You bit your lip as you grabbed a flower guide book, ready to find what type of flowers they were.

They were pink bluebells and red chrysanthemums.

A beautiful sandwich filled with all your favorite toppings, sat in front of you. Courtesy to Azriel. You sighed, wondering if you’d ever be as good as a cook Azriel was. It was truly a hidden talent of his. There wasn’t something he couldn’t fix.

A warm leathery wing brushed on your bare shoulder as he passed by. He sat his food down beside yours before pulling out a chair and setting it directly by yours. It was now lunch time. Both Cassian and Azriel were sweaty muscly messes. Their skin glistened with pure sweat. And you wondered how Azriel still managed to smell like a god still. After you left your room, you spent some time enjoying the morning breeze and relaxing. When it came time for lunch, you walked to the dining area. Azriel was waiting for you in the kitchen where he made your sandwich and a drink for you. Every detail of it was to your liking.

Cassian, of course, stood in the corner complaining about Azriel never fixing him sandwiches. Azriel had knocked him in the face with his wing, shutting him up. Cassian stayed in the kitchen, munching on some snacks. He feigned not paying attention to you nor Azriel.

Both of your chairs were back less, as to accommodate for wings. Sure, your skin felt a little chilly in the air due to your tank top. But Azriel’s wing, warm from training in the sun, stayed on your back. It was comforting. Like a blanket that's been sitting by a cozy fireplace.

Azriel pushed the plate towards you again, motioning for you to start eating. When you started, and he was sure you were satisfied with the taste, he started eating his too. And, of course, everything tasted perfect. When you both finished, the house took care of the plates. Cassian and Nesta had joined at the other end of the table, talking to each other as they ate. You caught yourself admiring them- the love they had. That you felt you would never have. They bickered, sure. But they were so in love. You couldn’t help but envy them. If only a guy loved you like that.

Your thoughts broke when Azriel started talking. He had a soft smile as he told you of his mission. Apparently the queens were doing okay and hadn’t been stirring up trouble, so he was able to leave early.

“You didn’t starve while I was away did you? Next time I’ll drag you with me so I can actually focus on my mission.” He muttered running his hands through his hair. Azriel always spoke softly unless angry. Or at least you had never heard him get loud. You didn’t catch Cassian and Nesta smirking at you both. Nesta couldn’t help but snort to herself. You were so oblivious. You didn’t even seem to notice Azriel only ran his mouth like this when around you. He seemed so open with you and comfortable.

“Of course I didn’t starve- wait, why couldn’t you focus on your mission?” You inquired, confused.

“Ah- No reason, dear.” He responded. His pet name went over your head. Azriel bit his lower lip, staring at you with intent eyes. He couldn’t help but feel amused by your blatant obliviousness. Your eyes went to where Cassian sat across from you with his eyes closed, kissing and smacking his lips, like he was making out with the air. Your eyebrows furrowed at the weirdness until he stopped and pointed at Azriel, then you. Nesta slapped him and he realized he had been caught. You were about to question his weird antics before a wing blocked your sight towards them.

You turned to where Azriel had gotten closer. He used his wing to make sure ALL of your attention was on him.“I have to go meet with Rhys soon. But when I get back, we need to talk.” He said sternly. His eyes were hardened and your face dropped. Did you do something wrong? He noticed the look and smiled softly to reassure you.

“Wait for me here?” He asked. And you nodded, still nervous. Your hands came together to fiddle awkwardly but Azriel’s hands laid on top of yours. He lifted your hands and kissed the top of both of them. You blushed at the intimacy. He lifted his head, and ran a hand through his hair.

He stood, still holding your hand with one of his. The room had gone quiet. Like it was just you and him. He leaned forward and kissed your forehead. You felt the heat and softness of his lips as they pressed to your head. Your bottom lip quivered as you looked shyly to the floor. What was happening? You didn’t even know anymore. Your body didn’t feel like it was yours anymore.

He stood and winked at you playfully before heading to the balcony and once again spreading those giant wings and shooting into the air. You sighed to yourself before realizing that Cassian and Nesta were both staring at you. Cassian sighed and looked to Nesta.

“I’ll bet you 80 gold coins-“ he started, but Nesta slapped a hand on his mouth so he couldn’t finish. She smiled at you before grabbing Cassian and leaving you alone in the room, deep in your thoughts.

Rhysand’s office was warmer then the rest of his house today. Azriel was filling him in on his recent mission. And to his distaste, that meant he had to be away from you. He didn't care that he’d be back within a few hours, he had already suffered during his mission. Being away from you- not being able to smell you on his clothes anymore, distressed him more then he cared to admit. He remembers worrying if you had ate, or if you forgot to eat again. His wings bristled at the memory. Upon coming back to you, he couldn't be bothered to care you had just got out of the bath. He thanked the Mother for blessing him with such good timing. You were so god damn beautiful, and if that towel had dropped- Azriel wouldn’t have left that room for a good fucking long while.

He had been too excited to even care that you were wet and only in a towel, he just had to hug you. But he didn't expect to feel his cock stiffen. He couldn’t help it, your body in his arms felt so good. You were so fucking pretty, it hurt. Azriel was embarrassed that he lost control of his own body. He planned on holding you for longer, but when your hand wrapped around his back, it brushed that sensitive part of his wing, sending a jolt to his dick. He had to rip away before you felt the growing hardness in his pants, and he felt so bad seeing your face of confusion. You hadn’t meant too. And you looked so hurt and you didn't even know what your had done. He cursed his body hating his lack of control, but didn't want you to think he was a creep so he left early to take care of himself.

“Az? Are you listening?”

Azriel snapped out of his thoughts and turned back to where his brother sat. Rhysand sighed and shook his head before repeating himself.

“I was asking if you could run to Velaris and pick up some medicine from Madja? Feyre has been having some headaches.”

Azriel’s eyebrows furrowed and he contemplated. Of course, he loved his high lady and didn’t want her to be in pain. But he wanted to get back to you fast. He needed your presence. Soon. Before he lost his mind. “Can’t you just winnow yourself? It’d be a lot faster then me having to fly.” He proposed.

Rhysand bristled slightly at Azriel’s slight coldness. He knew his brother, and knew he didn't mean it personally. Rhysand smirked. “Cassian warned me of this.”

“Warned you of what?” Azriel asked. ”He told me you get extremely pissy whenever you’ve been away from her for too long.” Rhysand spoke, with a knowing smile.

Azriel knew he was talking of you. His eyebrows furrowed and scowled at his brother before huffing. Before he could reply Rhys continued.

“It’s alright, we get it. Cas and I have both been through it with our mates.” Azriel didn’t respond this time. He shook his head with a slight growl. How come everyone could see his affection for you- but you? It was infuriating! He hoped maybe kissing your cheek would make you magically realize he had loved you, but it didn’t. Cauldron! How much more obvious does he need to make it?

Rhys dismissed him with his signature smirk, the all knowing bastard too smug for Azriel’s liking tonight.

Azriel wasn’t back yet. And the sun had already set, leaving it dark outside. You wondered what was taking him so long to tell Rhys of his mission. In reality you were more worried of what he wanted to talk about. You currently sat by the fireplace in your room, letting the heat warm your body. You had left the balcony doors open, assuming Azriel would fly through there.

You had two candles burning, and a book open in your hands. The sound of pitter patter against the marble floors distracted you from your book. You turned your head to the balcony doors and sighed, seeing it was raining. the water was getting on your floor. You grabbed a towel from the bathroom, and wiped the water from the floor. You closed the door to the balcony, but leaving it unlocked for him.

You turned around, noticing the flowers. You smiled joyfully. It was nice always having a pair of fresh flowers, thanks to Azriel.

“Pay more attention.”

You remembered Mor’s words. What were you suppose to pay attention to? You had already dissected every single memory you had of Azriel, but you coulnd’t find anything in your mind that was out of the ordinary. You sighed, rubbing your temples. Nothing made sense anymore. You ran a hand through your hair, stressed.

You looked around the room before your eyes found the flowers again. You remembered Azriel giving you a book that had the meanings flowers last Starfall. Your eyes snapped to the floating bookshelf Azriel has installed in your room two years ago. You quickly approached it, running your fingers across the titles until you found the right one. You pulled the book out, grazing the cover with your fingertips.

You sat by the fireplace, flipping through until you found the flowers you were looking for.

A whooshing sound came from your balcony, prompting you to close the book and stand, walking to your nightstand and laying it down. You turned to the door of the balcony, watching it open. Azriel stepped in, hair wet from rain. Water dripped from his body onto your floor. He wanted slightly eyes latching onto yours. He held a small pink box that he had managed to keep dry. You briefly wondered what it was until he started to walk towards you. Determination was in his eyes as he walked fast, in front of you within seconds. He licked his lips, looking at your eyes.

Everything froze, and it was just you and him. Standing there. His eyes were dilated and filled with affection now. You didn’t notice him setting the box on your nightstand, never breaking eye contact. His eyes flicked down to your lips, before looking back up. You felt the tension in the room. His eyes seemed to glow more tonight. Brighter than the fire.

You looked back to where the flowers were and then back back to him.

“Why did you give me pink bluebells and red chrysanthemums?” You asked, you voice barely above a whisper.

Azriel cocked his head to the side, studying you. His shadows whirl around, some coming to play with your hair. The tendrils swirl gently around you.

“Why do you think I gave them to you?” He responded. His voice was roughed, but gentle. You looked away to the floor and shrugged, feeling shy under his unwavering stare.

“Answer me.”

You felt a hand on your chin, turning your face back to his. His thumb rubbed mindlessly at your jaw.

“I don’t know..” You replied. He was closer now, you could feel his breath against your face. It was minty and fresh.

“Fucking hell y/n.” He groaned, grabbing your hips and gently pushing you to sit on the edge of the bed. He dropped to his knees in front of you, head bowed. He looked as if he was saying a prayer, his head bowed in your lap. His wings were draped across the floor, and he was muttering something to himself. He held your knees, and when he looked back up to you his eyes were teary.

“Azriel-“ you started, only for him to cut you off.

“What am I doing wrong? Have I not made it painfully clear? I would tie my wings behind my back and jump off this roof if you asked me too. I would do anything,” He sniffled, “anything for you. But you don’t even realize. What am I doing wrong?” You saw tears beginning to form in his eyes. Confusion filled every ounce of your soul. What did he mean?

“I would jump off for you too-“

“No! You don’t get it!” He rose, cupping your face with his hands. A pleading look was in his eyes. “Look at me! Don’t you feel it? Don’t you feel it here?” His hand came to lay where your heart would be. Your felt it beating crazily. What did he mean?

Azriel closed his eyes, sending a silent prayer to the mother. He opened them again.

“Just notice it y/n. Notice it- Notice me. Please..” he whispered. You wanted to scream you loved him suddenly, but he probably doesn’t mean this like that. This is probably some dumb prank he and his brothers came up with again.

His forehead rested against yours now, and you gasped as you felt something tugging on your heart. Like gold threads weaving together. It felt as if someone had tied Azriel to you. Shadows whirled crazily around you both now. Your hand came to rest over his trying to decipher this feeling in your heart. His eyes peered into yours. And he closed them as he moved his head and pressed a small kiss to your forehead.

“I love you, even if you don’t return it.” He croaked, defeatedly. His eyes opened and watched you. He watched as your eyebrows furrowed and you looked at your chest and then back to him.

He let out a grunt of surprise when you smashed your lips against his. Azriel wondered if this was real. Staying still, as if not to scare you away. When he realized it was real- and you were kissing him he melted. He kissed you back gently and meaningful. It was everything you had ever wanted you realized. Why hadn’t you noticed sooner? You could’ve been kissing this muscly man a lot sooner. Only did you detach yourself when you needed air. Both of your foreheads touched, and you both panted for air.

“Mate.” You whispered to him. He smiled, thanking the mother you had finally felt the bond. He nodded in response.

“Mate.” He replied. He nudged you back against the sheets, gently letting your body plop on the bed.

“But I have loved you long before I found out we were mates.” He muttered, his wings flaring slightly. He climbed on top of you, straddling your hips.

You nodded. “I loved you too- but I just thought that, I wasn’t the girl you’d ever wanna be with.”

“I’ve fucking craved you ever since I met you. And that won’t stop, ever. I swear, you’re the most oblivious girl I’ve ever met.” He said. His eyes weren’t wet anymore. It calmed you, seeing him calmer. The shadows were slowly and lazily playing with your hair again. You peered into Azriel’s eyes and thought back to every single memory you and him had, and realized it was all love. You were too oblivious to realize it. He slowly leaned down and brushed his lips against yours, wings covering you both. You kissed him back with a fever you couldn’t stop anymore.

After a few minutes, he crawled off of you and stood. You rose, propping yourself up. He handed you the pink box.

“I stopped by your favorite bakery and got you a cupcake.” Azriel spoke. The cupcake inside was big- almost two times bigger then your hand. And it was your favorite flavor. Your eyes softened at the kindness. You looked back up to him as you lifted the cupcake towards him.

“Eat Azriel.” You whispered. His eyes darkened upon realizing you wanted to solidify the mating bond- and confirm it. He shivered but stopped himself.

“You sure you don’t want a mating ceremony-“

“Eat the fucking cupcake Azriel.”

Tag list:

@going-through-shit @amara-moonlight

@tele86 @saltedcoffeescotch @minnieoo

@fxckmiup @charlotteintumbleland

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[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

"cold feet (literally)" - spencer reid x fem!reader

you wake up in the middle of the night to get a pair of socks

wc: 1k

cw: reader is described as wearing a bra, sickeningly sweet fluff, two idiots in love

Spencer keeps his apartment climate-controlled at a brisk sixty-eight degrees Fahrenheit. He likes to be cold, he says, and you generally don’t mind. You run hot anyway, so if, on the off chance you do get cold when you’re lounging around on his couch or perusing his bookshelves, you grab one of the throw blankets Garcia’s knitted for him and wrap it around your shoulders. 

Tonight is different, in that you were not planning on sleeping over. Your relationship with Spencer works so well, in your opinion, because you both like to be independent, so rather than be with each other every moment of every day that he’s home, you orbit around each other like planets. You spend many evenings over at his place, and he spends just as many as yours, but eventually, the other person goes home. 

Not that you didn’t like sleeping in the same bed as Spencer, of course, but the relationship was still fresh, and you both liked that you were taking things slow. Tonight, however, you started a movie with him rather late, and by the time it was over, you were bleary-eyed and your bones felt laden. Spencer was more than willing to offer you the empty side of his bed for the night. 

You arrived in sweatpants and a t-shirt, so you just took your bra off and laid down. Spencer splurged on a fancy orthopedic mattress, so you somehow both sunk into it and rested on top of it like a glass on a table. It was insanely comfortable, and both you and Spencer really were wiped out, so you went right to sleep. 

When your eyes flutter open a few hours, you’re laying on your side. The first thing you notice is that the room is not completely dark. No, in fact, there’s a stream of moonlight, or maybe a street lamp outside, creeping in through the curtains, casting a soft, gray-filtered glow over the room. 

You feel Spencer’s hand loosely on your hip, and his knee resting lightly against the back of your thigh. Your immediate reaction is not to move for fear of waking him, but your feet are icicles. The air around you is cold, too, but the blankets remedy that. You just need socks. 

I am molasses, you coach yourself, moving languidly and carefully to rise into a sitting position. However, you lack the FBI stealth training needed to rise out of bed without waking your boyfriend, because when you look over your shoulder, his eyes are very clearly open. 

There’s a tired yet playful little smirk as he sits up, leaning against the headboard. “Sneaking out already?” he asks, his voice still rich and thick with sleep, and you suddenly wish you’re able to see him like this more often. Maybe this whole going home to go to sleep thing is simply for the birds. 

“No, of course not,” you laugh softly. The mattress creaks as you finally stand up, your bare toes spreading against the soft carpet. As you pad over to his dresser, you shoot him a performative smile over your shoulder. “My feet are just freezing.” 

“Do you want me to adjust the thermostat?” Spencer asks immediately, shifting the blankets off of him so he can, presumably, get out of the bed. 

“No, no, it’s okay,” you insist, holding up your hand. He stops in his place. “It’s just my feet, Spence,” you assure him. The cherry wood creaks when you tug the top drawer open, plucking the first pair of socks you see out off the top. 

Spencer’s mismatched socks are meticulously organized in their correct pairs, as it turns out. You smile to yourself when you realize this means he takes the time each day to couple up an incorrect pair of socks before putting them on his feet. 

You select a pair of purple ones with little kiwi fruits printed on them, affection for the ridiculous man in bed behind you bubbling up in your chest, making it feel as if it’s filled with helium. Like you could float up to the ceiling at any moment. 

You’re still smiling stupidly as you perch yourself on the edge of the bed. You slide his socks over your bare feet, wiggling your toes around for a moment. “Why are you smiling, angel?” Spencer’s asking curiously, and you feel his foot nudge your back. 

You lie back down in the bed, shaking your head softly as you lay on your side and place your head against Spencer’s chest. He takes a second to adjust, slinking down so he’s lying flat on his back, then he tugs you a little closer. 

Your cheek rubs against the soft, worn fabric of his t-shirt. You place your palm down against his flat tummy, and consequently feel his chin press into the top of your head. “What is it?” he asks again. 

“I just think you’re the bee’s knees, that’s all,” you say softly, earning a small chirp of a laugh from your boyfriend. 

“The bee’s knees, huh?” he rakes his fingers through your hair slowly. The action is lulling you like straight melatonin, making you even more tired. “Did you know that phrase actually used to mean something small and insignificant? Over time it developed to refer to something or someone that is greatly admired.” 

You close your eyes, your body relaxing against him as he speaks. “Do bees even have knees?” you ask through a yawn. 

“Technically speaking, no,” Spencer brushes his thumb along your temple, then across the top of your ear, as if he is charting all the smooth parts of you. “But they do have a ball-and-socket joint between their leg segments, which allows them the flexibility to move their little legs around. So when they dance to show their hive mates where the good honey is, they move their legs around.” He laughs softly at this notion, and you feel your weight sink into the mattress. 

“You make me want to dance,” you whisper, smiling with closed eyes against his chest. “So, you’re the bee’s knees.” 

Spencer hums fondly in response to this, then kisses your forehead. “That’s kind of a reach, angel,” he says. “But I think you’re the cat’s pajamas, so who am I to judge?”

[pebblegalaxy]

5 Essential Oils to Help Warm Up Your Cold Feet

Having cold feet is a common problem that many people face, especially during the winter months. The feeling of coldness in the feet can be uncomfortable and sometimes even painful, making it difficult to walk or sleep. Fortunately, there are many natural remedies that can help warm up your feet and keep them cozy. One such remedy is essential oils. Essential oils are highly concentrated plant…

[sincerelyrki]

you don’t look like an angel

being heavens highest angel, lee heeseung was completely and utterly fucked. he’d made the one mistake that could cost him both his wings and his immortality- he had summoned a demon into the most sacred paradise on earth. it was only his luck that it wasn’t just a regular impure demon; no, it was worse. he had summoned a succubus.

paring : virgin!angel!heeseung x succubus!fem!reader

warnings + genre : smut. slightly dubcon (heeseung didn’t know what was happening). corruption. religious guilt. begging. unsafe sex. marking. oral (m). riding. slight degradation. begging. profanity. blood. cumming untouched. demons hiss and purr.

wc : 5.9

a/n : idk what this is but i had to read the entire thing out loud to make sure it sounded right and i think it’s safe to say that this might be one of my favourite works i’ve ever written so far? something about heeseung and corruption…anyways, as always i’d love to hear everyone’s thoughts 🤞

written perm taglist : @vousty @ilololoveyou @moon0fthenight

Heeseung was just finishing his final prayer when it happened, his hands still pressed together at the base of his forehead. Earlier in the day he’d heard about a new prayer, one that was said to be extremely popular with the rising youth. 

It was spoken in another language, one far too complex for Heeseung to understand. But the words were simple, easy to pronounce and fairly similar to a chant he’d heard his mother pray with. 

Due to its simplicity, it allowed more room for error. One small mistake could change the outcome of any prayer spoken through an angel's lips. Their loving prayers were far more powerful than any other beings, their direct connection with the lord strengthening their pleas. 

With the ability to heal an unknown disease with a singular sentence, an angel's voice was the most sought-after remedy.

But as the old saying says, with great power comes great responsibility. 

With a voice as strong as theirs it was bound to be heard. Whether it was heard from the lord or other angels, someone was always listening. 

What Heeseung failed to realize was that the language of his new prayer was the language of the unknown. No living human understood the language, their own interpretations being nowhere near the direct translation.

But like all other sayings, their false words made their way through the clouds. The wind was listening, the echoes of their translations meeting the ears of a few young angels.

They weren’t of the right age to learn about the wind's voice yet, so they did what they thought they had to. They spread the word, the listening angels hearing their prayers. 

It was a cruel game of telephone, the words jumbling together until it was forced to make its own poem. Heeseung just happened to be at the receiving end of one of one.

For a room that was well above the atmosphere, it was oddly humid. The freshwater flowers that thrived in his usual cold room were now completely withered. Their once vibrant petals were now dyed a terrific red, the hue straining their pure white appearance.

Heeseung watched with the utmost confusion as they contorted within seconds, the vapour diffusing into a puddle of red acid that gathered alongside the vase, identical red streams dripping from each individual stamen.

His hand moved on its own, his fingers a hairstring away from the mysterious liquid before a loud voice echoed from the other side of the room. Heeseung’s main light went out, his bedside lamp coming to life on its own. 

“You shouldn’t touch that.” Heeseung jumped in place, his wings springing free from their confinement in his attempt to defend himself. 

He was light on his feet when he spun around, unfortunately for him- he saw nothing but darkness on the other side of his room. Your figure blending right into the background. 

He grew panicked when his hand was met with air when he reached back for his bow, the situation drawing down fast on him. Not only was he stuck in a room with a mysterious creature but he was left defenseless in said room with the mysterious creature.

What were the chances that you were another angel?

“Are you looking for this?” The angel's jaw fell in shock when his missing bow dropped by his feet, the riser snapped clean in half. His heart sank at the sight, pain creeping across his chest. 

His bow was crafted with the finest materials, the limbs harvested from their most sacred willow tree’s aged bark- embezzled with an intricate carving for each of his greatest accomplishments. 

In an instant Heeseung grew nervous, he knew he wasn’t in the presence of an angel. Each angel was sworn by an oath, and the roots of the tree webbed across their every bone, making it impossible for them to harm such a sacred weapon. 

His jaw remained open when you finally revealed yourself, you were the envisionment of sin.

Yep, you definitely aren’t an angel.

Your breasts were held up with the tiniest fabric he’d ever seen, nothing but two small triangles hanging from your shoulders that were attached with a thin knot. The article did nothing to hide your body, everything except for your nipples out for him to see. 

His cheeks grew inflamed by an invisible force pulling his eyes down to follow the curvature of your exposed waist.  A slightly larger triangle sat hugging your hips, the right side of your hips was exposed, the fabric cascading in a diagonal slit towards your left thigh. It took him several seconds after staring at your legs to realize what he was doing. He slapped his right hand over his eyes, lips opening to recite his prayers.

Heeseung felt ashamed of his reaction, as angels weren’t supposed to observe nudity in a sexual manner. He’d never viewed another person's body in the way he did yours and he’d spent many hours aiding the other angels bathe during their sicknesses- this was a whole new territory that he’d never dared to think about. 

You, of course, noticing his ashamed prayers couldn’t help but take offence. Why would he beg for forgiveness after he called out to you? It wasn’t god who he should be worshiping, it should be you. 

“You can’t help your reaction, my body is supposed to make you feel like that.” You humoured him anyways knowing that none of this ashamed shit that he was feeling would matter in an hour. 

Heeseung vigorously shook his head in denial, your words not helping his inner turmoil at all. You were wrong, you had to be. He was supposed to be an angel and angels don’t act upon sin. 

He’d spent his entire childhood learning about each sin, spending hours of his life drowning in the promise of devotion. 

He had been loyal since the day he was born, temptations weren’t even a thought in his head anymore. He was the living epitome of purity. How could he honour his mother if he gave into the word of the demon? 

Heeseung kept his eyes on you whilst he completed his prayers, his final words building a sanctuary around his untainted blood. The blood of a virgin. 

You started your advance with small steps towards him, your bare feet making no sound as you neared him. The closer you got the more potent the blood’s smell became, iron heavy in the air as your body heat drew closer. 

You stopped halfway across the room, your mouth was practically watering by the time you were able to make out the small pool of red, the pretty flowers only making it seem more appetizing. 

“Do angels ever crave blood the way we do?” You knew they didn’t, it was against their entire existence but some sick side of you wanted nothing more than to see the angel’s reaction to your question.

Pretty boys were your weakness and Heeseung was so fucking gorgeous. You grew jealous of your future self, loathing that she got to touch him- to fuck him the way you’re imagining it right now. You couldn’t wait to watch him shake beneath you, begging to whoever was listening for you to stop. 

Heeseung’s mouth dropped in horror, you craved blood? He looked at you like you were insane for your completely valid needs like he couldn’t fathom craving something so inhumane. He wasn’t completely sure if you meant human or animal blood but after seeing the way you looked at him he’d say had a pretty lucky guess. 

“Because I've never craved it more.” Chills went down Heeseung’s spine while he tried reading through your words, were you a vampire who smelled him from Earth? He knew angels smelt the best to them. 

His questions answered themselves through the sudden wave of iron clashing with his sensitive nose. He looked over his shoulder towards the flowers that were now completely drenched. 

“Whose blood is this?” He was barely finding his voice before he forcefully stuttered his final question, his throat burning with a newfound emotion.

Your head cocked to the side while your lips pulled up into a side smirk, your pink tongue quickly coming out to wet them. It was almost an endearing sight, almost. 

Heeseung stumbled back with a small shriek when you suddenly appeared right in front of him, your chest pressing flesh against his for a few seconds too long. 

He watched the way you kept your eyes on him whilst reaching one of your fingers out towards the pool of blood, a gasp crawling up his throat when you brought your fingers to your lips.

You made a show of sticking your tongue out, trailing your finger from the bottom up before you stuck in between your lips. 

You let out a small hum of approval, the sweet taste of his blood tasting better than any you’ve tried before. You finally understood what your friends meant when they swore that a virgin’s blood tasted the best, however, they never got the pleasure of tasting it from an angel. 

“It’s your blood, who else’s would it be?” You watched in amusement as the angel’s face blanched, his wings twitching behind his back as he attempted to curl into himself. ‘Cute’, you hummed to yourself as you mentally took a shot at this moment. If there was one rule about angles that every species seemed to agree on was that angels have always been beautiful. But there was something about this specific one that felt so different. It could’ve been the fact that he was untouched, or it could’ve been the way his fear shone so obviously in his eyes that turned you on so fucking much. 

Typically angels smelled of a plethora of flowers, gardens growing from their untainted hands. Usually, the scent bothered you, your body being much more used to the fruit-like and sensual scents that the demons claimed as their own. 

Many angels assumed that demons would smell of burnt flesh and plied wood and sometimes they definitely weren’t wrong. But most smelled like you- after all, you needed to smell as good as you looked. No one wants to fuck someone who smells bad, even demons had class. 

“What are you?” Heeseung questioned, his wings still pulled behind his back. Even though he knew you weren’t an angel, he still had his doubts. Demon wasn't even a word in his vocabulary, it was one of the few words that were forbidden to be spoken in heaven. Sure, you had wings and the same flawless skin he sported but your wings… they couldn’t be any more different. 

Your wings were almost double his size and they appeared much more feathered, looking as if they’d been plucked from the most gracious birds and dipped into the darkest ink, black and red sunsets carving up each intricate row of feathers. 

He just never expected you to become his beautiful devastation. 

You ignored his question and continued observing the way his body reacted to you. His smell quickly became addictive, your adulterated temperament wearing thin the longer he lingered in your senses. 

“What do you want me to be?” You purred out in your most seductive tone. While waiting for his response you took it upon yourself to move closer to him, your steps much less hesitant than earlier. 

There was no denying that the man before you was truly captivating but there was something else that caught your attention much faster. His pearlescent wings were practically glowing in the dark, a layer of pale blue surrounding the smoothed edges. Which, after thinking about it for a few seconds didn’t make very much sense to you since the angels tended to constantly stay in the light. 

“An angel?” You made a sound of disgust at his disrespectful words, you? An angel? Honestly, you’d rather be a troll which says a lot considering their reputation. 

“I’ll be your angel if it helps?” Heeseung tried hiding his very evident fluster by attempting to turn away from your vision but when he tried to move, he couldn’t. 

You giggled out loud watching the panic spread throughout his face, your mind fogging with all the ways you could use him whilst he’s in this state. There was something so satisfying about having complete control over another person's body, whether it’s through your mind or actions. 

“Aw, what happened?” You cooed, acting dumb has always been one of your strong forts. It came in useful at times like this, the ability to feign innocence with a singular pout. 

Heeseung, unfortunately for him, fell right into your trap. He was naive enough to believe that you had nothing to do with his state, which is way beyond you. It would’ve been obvious to anyone else that you were controlling him but perhaps angels thought differently.

“I can’t move.” Heeseung nearly screamed when your hand pressed on the spot where his heart lay beneath his chest, his heart thundering louder than before. It was only racing because he was scared, there’s no way your touch was affecting him. Angels don't feel lust. 

Lust. The definition is described as a “disordered desire for inordinate enjoyment of pleasure.” Heeseung lived by the word of the lord. He’d spent his entire life bending backwards to live by the commandments that were shoved down his throat, his lungs choking against the words bubbling to come out. 

It wasn’t hard to drown into the mold that’s been made to best fit him but it was nearly impossible to escape. He thought he was fine in this confined space, lonely sure, but free of sin. He was accepted by the lord and that’s all that he’s ever wanted.

But he was made for sin because he was made for you. 

“Then I guess I'll have to take care of you. I can’t leave you here all alone, not when you’re this vulnerable.” Poison disguised as worry spilled from your lips and slipped through Heeseung’s mind. 

Your words drew more than reassurance through Heeseung, it drew guilt. Guilt for doubting your intentions, for believing that you could’ve been here to harm him. He felt so wronged for you, you must’ve been so angry at him. But still, you offered your help. Maybe he’d slip you into his nightly prayers, thanking the lord for gracing him with your presence. 

All the thoughts frozen when your hand touched the edge of his wing, his body electrified with a foreign feeling. No one else has ever touched his wings before, it was an action that was far too intimate to allow anyone else to try. 

He knew his wings were sensitive but he never knew they were this bad. His wing twitched under your touch, pushing itself closer to your hand. 

You watched in amazement as his wings awoke from their state, your touch bringing them to life. You never controlled his wings, the action far too cruel for even a demon to pull. 

You tested the touch again, pressing your palm flat against the parts that were attached to his spine. They fluttered again, a brighter light emitting from the edges, oh. His wings don’t always glow, they won’t glow when they’re being stimulated.

Your wing's nerves were linked to the ones that spread across your pelvis and down. You’d witnessed many demons talking about using it as a pleasurable advantage. Succubus was seen as a sex symbol, so obviously their experience matched the description. 

But you’d never gotten the chance to test the theory for yourself. Now that you have you weren’t sure if you’ll ever be able to stop. 

Without Heeseung’s knowledge, his cock jumped with each touch. It wasn’t that he was aroused, just overstimulated. He loud out a quiet whine, one that stopped as soon as it came. To you, he was so fucking pathetic. Whining after getting touched twice? But just as pathetic as he was, he was hypnotic. 

“Sh, I’m helping you in the best way I know.” You shushed his whines before you moved to stand in front of him, pressing your chest against his. Heeseung wasn’t sure what you were doing when you did that but then something surprising happened.

Your chest began letting out these small vibrations. Your eyes stared up into his whole you enhanced the force, your purrs reaching your throat. 

He was so pretty standing all pliant, unmoving as you controlled his body. The purrs came out of nowhere, the sudden affection catching you off guard. But you soon appreciated it, Heeseung deserved only the best.

It was at this moment that you decided that you wanted to keep him. There was no way in heaven or hell that you’d let anyone take him away from you, you’d let the world burn before a singular finger touched his- your- skin. From this second on he belonged to you, wholly and completely. 

You’d mark him after mating, your gums were already aching at the thought. As a demon, you could mate however many times you wanted. But you could only have one mate, your bite would solidify the union. 

But for now, you just returned your hands back to his wings. And as expected, he choked out another whimper, his mouth gaping open at the liquid heat gathering in his stomach. 

“Do you like it when I touch you like this?” Heeseung, thinking he was still sin-free, nodded his head. He adored it. 

You let out a cat-ish grin, your pointed canines poking from beneath your top lip. Heeseung knew of only two species who had pointed canines but only one had retractable ones. 

You were a demon. 

It didn’t scare him as much as he thought it would, but that doesn’t mean that he won’t say an extra prayer in the morning. 

And like always, you could tell that he had found out. “I’m a succubus, you summoned me.” Through Heeseung’s cloud of pleasure, he couldn’t make himself question you. Yeah sure, he totally summoned you. He’d believe anything you said as long as you keep making him feel like this.

His head flew back when your hand touched a specific spot on his wings, the only bare spot.

For both angels and demons alike there was a singular spot on the top corner of the right wing. It was bare of any feather, it was strictly skin. There was a small string of skin that held the strongest nerve in your entire body. 

The nerve was used for connections, it was what allowed them to converse with the wind. But it wasn’t until now that you both learned that it was much more because the second you touched it, you felt him.

You felt his every emotion, the warmth in his stomach, and the pounding of your cunt. 

It all happened too fast, gone before you could relish in it. But if you allowed it for now, there would be many other opportunities for you to test out the connection. 

After all, Heeseung would become yours for eternity. 

Your mouth widened in amazement as Heeseung came untouched, his mouth opening with zero sound coming out. You weren’t even sure if he knew what was happening, it made it all more enjoyable for you. 

“You came untouched?” It was a rhetorical question but still, Heeseung had no idea what you were talking about. All he knew was that there was a euphoric feeling rushing throughout his body, he’d never felt more alive than at this moment. 

All he wanted was to feel it again and again, uncaring about what you tabled it as. He didn’t know he could feel this good without sinning, he honestly couldn’t wait to tell his friends.

If only you could hear his thoughts, you’d bathe in them forever. It was cute how Heeseung thought that he was still sin-free, not knowing that he’d committed one of the worst ones yet.

The feeling faded away after a few more seconds, his mind clearing as his consciousness rushed back. He was now much more aware than before and finally noticed a new detail.

You noticed the way he was trying to look down and decided to be a bit kinder, allowing his head to move on its own. Heeseung didn’t seem to notice that he now had full control of his neck, all he saw was the giant wet patch on his bottoms. 

It was also now when he noticed he was crying, his tears making smaller marks around his wetness. 

“What is-“ He was cut off by your hand grabbing his chin, pulling his confused eyes away from his soiled pants. 

“I’ll make you a deal, hm?” Heeseung nodded through his crocodile tears, his puffy cheeks stained with his fallen tears. You gave Heeseung a small smile, making a point to soften your eyes to appear more trusting. 

“I’ll help you out if you promise to… I can’t say it, I know you’ll say no.” You knew how to play your cards with a man who was desperate enough to do anything. 

“Please, I’ll do anything!” Heeseung didn’t know a thing about being manipulated. It was a concept that didn’t exist in his world. Or maybe it did but was disguised as something much less sinister. 

“Do you promise?” A hiss. All it took for Heeseung to doubt himself once again was the small hiss that made its way through your throat. It sounded far less human than he was comfortable with, but he trusted you, did he not? 

The lord swore forgiveness to everyone who’s wronged him, why wouldn’t Heeseung do the same? 

“Anything, please I promise! J- just help me.” An angel's promise. It was the only thing you needed to know that you finally had him. 

The only other thing that every species knew about angels, was that they could never break a promise. It was the greatest sin of all, a betrayal that wasn’t worth forgiving. No one, not even the lord, forgave promises. It was the highest honour an angel could give, their promise. 

Heeseung knew that he couldn’t go back and undo what had been done, to take back the words that were spoken in a sense of urgency. And he didn’t really know if he wanted to, not when he was finally able to move his arms.

“Sit on the bed.” Heeseung’s legs moved under your command, the promise allowing you to control his every move. What he didn’t know was that you didn’t need his word to control him, it was part of your demon abilities. 

He had no choice but to comply with what you said, he wasn’t labelled heaven's highest angel for no reason. 

You weren’t completely sure where to start because usually you just did whatever you wanted, uncaring about the other person. All the other people who’d summoned you had already been asleep when you arrived and stayed asleep the entire time. Their mortal minds were far too weak to handle the pheromones releasing from your body, even the other supernatural species couldn’t handle it. 

“Mate me.” It was easier to get straight to the point, there was no need for any foreplay at this stage. The connection that you’d made with him was enough to prepare you for him, it was in your dna. 

Heeseung on the other hand, didn’t take it as well. He denied it right away, his head practically exploding at your words. Mate you? The lord would never forgive him, he’d be breaking his promise to him. 

Promise after promise, it was all Heeseung was good for. He’d promised his life away, his celibacy. He’d be banned from heaven, shunned of his wings. He’s already made the grave mistake of bringing you here, but this? This would cost him everything, his entire life. 

But still, you made him feel alive. You made him realize that he’d never felt anything before- not even joy. He’d been a cast of a person who he was forced to be, who even was he anyway?

A follower. And that’s all he’ll ever be for the rest of his life. He’s never hated anymore more than how much he hates you for making him come to terms with his life. 

It was his prayers that did this, why would the lord give you him if it wasn’t supposed to happen? You were supposed to be here, the lord approved of you. Why else would you come? It had to be what was happening, Heeseung was finally allowed a pass to be the person he’d locked away many lifetimes ago. 

But it stung, deep. His guilt came out in a wail of tears, angry fists banging against the bed beside him. His tormented thoughts roared with life, he was finally letting go. 

Fuck the commandments, fuck his promises, and he only hoped the lord would let him fuck you. 

And so with a wave of fresh tears and forgotten fears, he did what you said. He stood from his spot, your mind open and free of the handles you had strapped to his wrists. 

He’d pulled his pants down in one yank, his underwear pulling down with them. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he was alive. alive. Lee Heeseung was finally alive. 

The air smelt different, curtsey to your pheromones. Your hands felt rougher when they met his now bare chest, the bed feeling softer as his wings cushioned his fall. 

His head was clear when he felt your hand grab his cock, his heart void of guilt when he felt your mouth wrap around him.

But as the circle goes, it comes back around. 

Knowing that other men enjoyed thinking that they’re too big for you, you fake choked on him. Your eyes filled with fake tears as you pretended to gasp for air. Your chest heaved at an uncontrollable speed, fingers numbing at the thought of making him feel good.

Sex came naturally to Heeseung, which was something the two of you didn’t expect. His hands pulled your head back toward where he needed you the most, his thumb pulling your lips apart before he pushed you down to suction around him.

“God- you feel so fucking good.” He doesn’t even recognize himself anymore, his mind too full with the feeling of you to realize that he’d spoken the lord's name in vain. 

He wasn’t just betraying himself, he was giving up heaven. He'd give it away a million times more if it meant that he’d spent his life with you. Your name was the only one rushing from his mouth, the only one getting worshiped as your tongue wrapped around his bulbous tip. 

You used your tongue to trace circles around the small slit at the top of his cock, collecting everything he was giving to you. He tasted so sweet, nothing like anything you’ve tasted before. 

He didn’t warn you before filling your mouth, his amateur thrusts being overshadowed by your much more experienced lick.

You’d pulled away from him after holding him in your mouth, waiting to feel him soften before pulling him off. Heeseung’s head tilted to the side in confusion when you opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue. 

He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be seeing- oh…

You felt a surge of confidence rushes through your body at the feeling of him hardening against your hands. “Already? you’re so needy.” 

You rose to a stand, grabbing his hands to pull him to stand instead. All it took was a snap of fingers for your clothes to be gone, leaving you completely nude. 

Heeseung felt like every moment of his life had led up to this, you were his final destination. Without him noticing, he whispered one final prayer. Right when he went to recite the trinitarian formula, he noticed.  

Guilt was unforgiving but so was hesitation. He hesitated to give in earlier, but now? 

“Are you ready?” Heeseung didn’t recognize his voice anymore, a much deeper one coming out. His hands moved on their own when he pulled your legs around his waist, pushing his hips forward until his cock pressed against your lips. 

You nodded once, pushing your legs further apart as you waited for him to make the move. He looked down at you cunt in appreciation, the lord really did take his time creating you. It’s too bad that his favourite creation was going to ruin it.

Heeseung wrapped his hand around his base before giving an experimental squeeze. Heeseung had never touched himself before today, having no idea what was supposed to feel good. 

He ignored his embarrassing inexperience and used his other hand to open you up for him. His mouth watered at the sight of your bare in front of him, you looked so welcoming. 

He tried not to stare for too long because he knew that if he did he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from using his mouth first. But he’d much rather finish it all off by licking you clean, drinking everything you have to offer. 

He tapped the head of his cock against you, watching from under his eyebrows at how you reacted. From the way your hips pushed up, he knew exactly where to touch you. 

He kept his head pressed against you as he pushed down, stopping once he reached your entrance. This was the moment that would change his entire life, he was never going to be the same way he was before. 

And when he finally pushed in, his head fell forward with a loud moan. The blood of the virgin became the blood of the demon, he was no longer considered an angel in the lord's eyes. 

Your hands grabbed his biceps as he pushed in deep, his cock hitting places you’ve never felt before.  He sped up, his hips slamming against yours over and over as he grew into a routine. 

You obviously liked the way he was moving if your moans meant anything. 

“Bring me to heaven.” You managed to plead through your now real choked gasps. Your head was filled with explosions of colours, real pleasure rushing through your blood. His big cock felt too good pushing against your gummy walls, each curve of him fitting perfectly in your crevices. He was made for you. 

Heeseung sucked in a harsh breath, a teasing smile growing on his opened mouth. His eyes were now open, staring into your own as he ravished your body for what it was. 

“But you’re a demon, and we’re already here…” He let out a small grunt at his harder thrust, his eyes closing once again. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d reached this specific spot in your body, but he was certain that once he found it again he wouldn’t let it go. 

“Not that heaven-” your smile matched his as your body burned with the same flame, your impurities mixing with his. You shakily raised one of your hands up towards his face, your fingers wrapped around his jaw as you forced his face close to yours. 

His eyes opened once again, his irises now completely black as he let himself fall into the pit of pleasure. “Your heaven” Your back arched with a moan while your legs tightened around his waist.

Heeseung swore he was in love. With you, and the feeling of you. Nothing could turn him back now. He pulled your legs over his shoulder, his chest pushing away from yours as he pushed all his weight into his legs and hips. 

He pressed kiss after kiss against your ankles, biting down to create indents across your calves. He knew this angle hit deeper into you because finally, he felt that spot and and over.

Both your volumes rose into near screams when you both reached your peaks. Without thinking twice Heeseunf pressed your knees flat to your chest, his neck stretching out to bite against yours. 

Your blood filled his mouth 

Angels too sealed the mating process with a bite, but it was different. The magic was stored in each individual tooth. The pockets of their poison were located in their mamelons. And so when the angel bites into their mate, the pockets open into small needles. Three sharp needles accompanied each tooth, it was the only part of the tooth that got pushed through the skin. 

Heeseung wasn’t lying when he mentioned not craving blood, but now? His arms shook when had to pull himself away from you, the desire to drink from his new mate stronger than anything. “Thank god-“ He didn’t know what he was thanking anyone for, but he needed something to fall back on. It just happened to be the roots that caught him. 

Your broken moans were drowned out by your returning purrs, your eyes white as they rolled into the back of your head. Holy fucking shit, Heeseung marked you first?

Without allowing Heeseung to pull out you flipped him over, his back flat against the bed while you sat flush against him. He looked up through tired eyes, his mind coming back to normal as he softened inside of you. 

“Don’t thank god, he had nothing to do with this.” You growled at the angel before you released more pheromones. They seemed to do their job as he was hard again within seconds. 

You felt him throb inside of you before you rose the tiniest bit, dropping down right away.  Heeseung’s hands gripped your ass, helping your waist move forward and back with each raise and fall. 

His hips buckled to meet yours, loud slaps echoing across the room as you sunk into him over and over. Heeseung forced his head up enough to look at where the two of you were connected and god, the sight didn’t fail. 

There was a thick ring of cum formed around his base, sticky strings connecting the two of you with every new raise. He’d almost come on the spot once again, his body way more sensitive than yours due to his inexperience. 

You saw the way his face scrunched up and automatically knew that he was trying not to cum. You used your mental hold on him to remove his hands from you and pinned them by his head. 

His eyes were wide when they met yours again. He felt his heart stutter at the glare on your face. Has he done something wrong? Is he not pleasing you correctly? 

“Don’t keep anything away from me, give it all to me.” Your hips momentarily stopped, only his tip remaining in as you stared down at him. 

“Breed me.” Your quiet whisper caused an eruption of pleasure to burst through his chest. He had you lying back on your back in seconds, his instincts putting you into the mating press. 

“Don’t start what you can’t end.” He didn’t say more before he pushed into you once again. He leaned his head down to meet yours, his lips pulling your bottom one between his teeth.

He gently tugged at it once before he forced his tongue between your lips, your mouth tasting of his earlier release. “You don’t look like an angel,” He ignored the harsh look you threw at him, giving you a small smile before he pressed his lips against your pulse point. 

He breathed in a deep inhale, his body welcoming your new scent, one that was mixed with his. He bit the skin twice, the second much harder than the first before he soothed the wound with his tongue. 

He trailed small kisses up your neck, all the day until he reached your ear. He pulled your earlobe between his teeth before placing a gentle kiss against it. “But you definitely taste like one.”

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Mrs. MacTavish's Remedy 🍯

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

For all my girlies who have trouble falling asleep 🫶🏻

Johnny himself had times where sleep seemed far away from him... fortunately, Mrs. MacTavish's remedy works wonders not only on loud brains but the soul as well <3

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Your feet patted against the hardwood floor as you made your way into your living room, where your boyfriend was left watching some film on the telly.

The bright light from the television stung in your eyes as you got closer, making an effort to let Johnny's form shield your retinas so they wouldn't go up in flames.

"Johnny..." you mumbled sleepily, dragging yourself around the couch. A soft smiled settled on his face as he watched you move, already opening his arms for you.

"What's wrong, bonnie?" He asked quietly, pulling you snuggly into his chest when you crawled into his lap.

"Can't sleep.." it came out slurred, sleep tugging at all of your limbs but never enough for you to slip into the sweet bliss of a dream.

"Y'want me tae just hold ya for a bit? See if tha' helps?" Johnny cooed, gently rubbing a hand along the length of your spine and over your shoulder blades. You nodded into his shoulder, tightly wrapping your arms around his middle.

"Mah sweet girl..." he whispered against your temple, his words melting deep into every crevice of your brain. Your body relaxed against him, your cheek pressed to his shoulder while your hands were pressed flat to his back.

The warmth radiating off of him and his large hands gently tracing shapes on your back usually put you to sleep in the blink of an eye, but today, for some reason, sleep was playing a cruel game with you, dangling a pleasant dream right in front of your face without ever letting you reach it.

You wanted to toss and turn, but Johnny's hold on you had you paralyzed. The trouble was that you didn't know whether it made it better or worse.

You could feel Johnny yawning more and more as the film went on and eventually came to an end.

The loud noises from various explosions and firefights gave you a headache, making you bury your face even deeper into his shoulder. You were glad it ended. Maybe it was the sole reason why you couldn't fall asleep in the first place.

The crease between your brows softened, and a quiet sigh slipped from your lips.

Unbeknownst to you, Johnny was smiling down at you, albeit sleepily as he was exhausted himself, but he couldn't help admiring you.

"Let's get tae bed, yeah?" He spoke quietly, pressing his lips against your temple.

You nodded against his shoulder, sliding off his lap and waiting for him to take the lead.

With your fingers intwined, Johnny gently dragged you along to your shared bedroom. But to your surprise and slight confusion, he made a stop in the kitchen.

"Johnny, what..." you mumbled, your brows scrunched together.

He gave you a soft yet dazzling smile and beckoned you to sit on the counter. You were past the point of complaining, so with his help, you slid onto the cold stone.

"You said ya can't sleep... so I'm makin' you somethin' my mam used tae make me when I was but a wee lad." He added a joking tone to his voice, presumably to lighten your spirits.

It coaxed a soft chuckled from your chest, and your hands went up to rub at your sleepy eyes.

He pulled open the fridge, the bright light making you squint, and took out a carton of milk.

"You, mah bonnie lass, get the luxury of milk from a carton. Had to milk the cows maself back then." He winked at you playfully, making you roll your eyes in turn.

"Sure you did, love." You snorted softly, watching him as he poured the milk into a mug and popped it in the microwave.

The soft hum of the appliance continued on while Johnny rummaged through the cabinet, pulling out a small glass jar.

"Ah, there it is." He declared triumphantly, showing off the container.

"I call it ma sleep elixir. Brought it all the way from home fer emergencies like this."

A golden, gooey mass shimmered in the glass. It looked like a recycled marmalade jar, labeled with a sticker that read;

for sweet dreams when you're missing home ♡

A soft smile pulled at your lips as you recognized the handwriting that, undoubtedly, belonged to Mrs. MacTavish.

She'd sent Johnny, as well as yourself, numerous post cards and letters in the past, so that signature swirl in her words made it easy to spot.

Johnny gently pressed the container into your hands, busying himself with trying to take the mug out off the microwave without burning his fingerprints off- although, the tactical advantage of that wouldn't be the worst, he supposed...

You inspected the small jar, carefully turning it in your hands to watch as the sugary crystals shimmered in the dim light.

Your gaze fell back on the label, gently stroking over it with your thumb.

"This is your mum's writing, yeah?" You asked softly, adoringly looking over the heart that was drawn with such care you could feel the love radiating off of it.

"Aye," he replied with a smile, taking a spoon from one of the drawers, "Mam loves the countryside. She'd drag me and mah sisters tae farmers markets all the time. And she'd always stock up on this here honey. Swears it was the only thin' that knocked me out so she could get a break." He snickered.

You chuckled in response. You loved Johnny, but lord knows if you could've handled him as an energetic rascal.

Gently handing him the precious glass, you watched as he scooped a spoonful of the honey out of the jar and plopped it down into the mug of warm milk.

"Now," he began, slightly leaning on the counter, "we stir clockwise, 9 times precisely." The serious quirk in his brow made you break into a sleepy fit of giggles.

"You're brewing a potion now, are you?" You tilted your head with a small grin.

"I'll become a wizard in the woods if tha' means ya get some sleep." He winked, tapping the spoon on the rim of the mug.

The spoon was tossed into the sink to find and clean up the next morning, something you would've scolded him for if you cared enough right now.

"Careful now. Might be a wee bit hot." John smiled softly, handing you the warm mug.

Of course it was a cheesy souvenir with a giant Scotland flag plastered on it. It was well worn and loved from the, borderline unhealthy, amounts of coffee Johnny had consumed from it, but it was dearly appreciated.

It had a chip here and there and the print was starting to abide by the rules of the dishwasher.

Although it was just a cup, the fact that he chose his cup made you smile, and your heart flood with warmth.

You raised the mug to your lips, taking a sip and letting the warm and sweet liquid trickle down your esophagus and into your belly.

"This is some good honey." You hummed, tasting the floral aroma of the liquid gold.

You could imagine meadows upon meadows of wildflowers of all kinds and the soothing buzzing of all those busy little bees that worked hard to make their honey.

What would it like to be so free? To buzz around and occasionally rest on the soft petal of a poppy.

"Ah told ya, didn't I? Mam knows what she's doin'." He chuckled, gently caressing the outside of your thighs.

"Do you want some?" You offered him the mug, only for him to decline with a gesture of his hand.

"I'll be out on the floor if Ah have a sip of tha'."

"That would suck." You agreed, continuing to sip on the milk.

"Aye. Ya need someone to keep you nice 'n cozy after all." He smirked, wrapping his arms around your middle and resting his chin on your head.

You giggled, the vibration against his throat sending a shiver down his spine.

"You're a wonderful cuddle buddy." At the warmth of his embrace your eyes began to fall shut.

"I'm glad ma services are to your satisfaction, my love." He joked, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"'M tired.." you mumbled, resting your weight against him.

"Come on, bonnie." Johnny spoke softly, helping you off the counter, his mug a safe distance away from the edge to deal with in the morning.

His back was facing you as his hands stretched out behind him so he could guide you to your bedroom, your eyes feeling like they were glued shut.

The moment you slipped into that bed, everything that bothered you faded away.

You could swear the sheets felt softer than usual, your pillow was unusually fluffy, and as Johnny pulled the blanket over both of you, it was the perfect temperature beneath.

The window was cracked open for that bit of fresh air that made sleep that much more pleasant.

Despite Johnny's tendency to become a living furnace, he too, had the just the right amount of heat to keep you cozy but not too hot. Your face nuzzled into his chest gave you the perfect feeling of safety.

It felt like you were wrapped in clouds, basking under the sun, a nice breeze blowing over you with the taste of the sweet honey and the creamy milk still on your tongue.

You'd mentally thanked Johnny's mum for her remedy, something you couldn't wait to tell her on your next visit. Perhaps a thank you card for raising the love of your life would be in order as well.

With a contented sigh, your muscles relaxed and you sunk into the mattress. It was nice and quite, except for Johnny's loud breathing and the occasional snore, but the sound gave you a sense of comfort now.

Knowing that he was alive and breathing made you sleep much easier at night.

You opened one eye as much as you could and took a peak at Johnny, who was blissfully unaware and knocked out the second his head hit the pillow.

You smiled sleepily, gently rubbing your hand over his beating heart before pressing your lips to that same spot in a sweet kiss.

"Love you, Johnny." You mumbled, letting yourself finally slip away into a much needed rest.

The subconscious tightening of his hold on you let you know that no matter how many dreams you were apart, he'd always hear you, for your souls were intertwined and would find eachother every time.

Whether in this life or the next, nothing could tear the two of you apart.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The CoD fandom is lacking fluff in my opinion, so I'm here to provide 😌🩷

Should I make a CoD tag list??? 👀

More of my works -> 💫

[natailiatulls07]

Can you please do driver reader and she is the baby of the paddock and she gets sick and everyone is worried and looking after her including her team principal Christian

Worried Mothers Hens

Formula one grid & female!driver!reader

Summary - You get a cold/fever, and the drivers become like worried mother hens

Warning - Blacking out, crash, ibuprofen, mention of breaking your back

Reader drives for Redbull

-

- You're the youngest on the grid

- Only being 18 years old and the only female on the grid was a huge accomplishment

- Fans love you

- They think you’re the most iconic on the grid

- Your tiktok is filled with candid videos of other drivers

- Like this one time, you asked Carlos to crack your back

- Thing is he didn’t know that you had a uncooked piece of pasta between your teeth

- So when he went to crack your back, he freaked out

- The poor Spaniard thought he seriously broke your back

- “¡Dios mío!”

- “Y/n! I am so sorry! Are you okay?!”

- He kept worrying and apologised

- But when you started to laugh, he expression was concerned

- “¿Qué? ¿Estás bien?”

- “Carlos! It’s okay”

- The fans loved it!

- It was race day for the new Las Vegas Grand Prix

- And many cameras captured each driver as you all arrived separately

- But everyone noticed your pale face and sniffly nose

- Your race engineer, much like everyone else, was concerned

- “Are you sure you’re okay?"

- "Yeah I'll be fine"

- You weren't

- You crashed into turn 5

- "Y/n! Are you okay? Confirm you're okay?"

- Nothing

- You had blacked out down that straight from turn 4 to turn 5

- Luckily you're RB19 didn't cause any collision with any other car

- "That's a red flag! Red flag!"

- "Wait who? Where?" The british McLaren driver asked

- "Yeah I saw the collision, who was it Max or Y/n?" Daniel Ricciardo asked his race engineer

- But when they all found out who was in the car, their concerns for you went up like crazy

- "Is she okay? Has she responsed?"

- They were all instucted to enter the pit lane and would wait there until the race continued

- It's okay though

- You got out of the car unharmed and were told to head to medical centre in the paddock

- So thats what you did

- This did calm some nerves of the other drivers but they were all still that bit concerned as they were told they would continue the race soon

- The medical team told you to go back to your hotel and sleep this fever off

- And thats what you did

- You fell asleep straight away when you got into your hotel bed

- Only to be woken up a few hours later to a knock on the door

- "Come in" You shouted from the bed, only now noticing your scratchy throat

- Opening the door revealed Max, Carlos, Charles, Lando, Daniel and George

- (Pretend Lando didn't crash into the barrier and won)

- "Hey buddy how are you feeling?" The Australian asked as he came to sit by my feet on the bed

- "I've been better"

- Turns out after the race finished they all went to the local supermarket and made up a basket full of cold/fever remedies and all your favourite foods

- lemon cough sweets

- toffee popcorn

- ibuprofen

- etc

- For the rest of the evening, they completely babied you

- Happily watched your favourite childhood film

- Made sure the bed was comfortable for you

- Made you drink a lot of water and eat a lot of vitamin C

- And it's not like the fans missed out on this whole thing

- They all made sure to post regularly on their instagram stories

- Even agreeing to do a tiktok with you

- Overall, being the baby of the grid and being the most iconic really worked out in your favour

-

[stnexus]

a slip of the tongue…!

jason todd x fem!black!reader

MINORS DNI, NSFW, 18+

summary: stressful days and sleepless nights, jason has a remedy for that one. just don’t give him any attitude, that’s all he asks.

cw: minor little heated argument (reader literally just has a lil freak out moment), a few mentions of jason’s scars, reader is stressed, insomnia (?), reader thinks jason’s mad for a second but that gets cleared up quick, nsfw, squeaky bed frame(?), praise kink, overstimulation, dumbification, dacryphillia, oral (f!receiving), squirting, creampie, mating press, missionary, cowgirl, this one kinda sensual you guys (i need this man so bad. tonight…we FEAST.)

names used (?): baby, pretty, pretty girl, beautiful, beautiful girl, good girl, daddy (used in moderation you guys)

word count: 3.5k+ (yet i was struggling to write my 1.2k final essay. THIS IS 12 FUCKING PAGES.)

A slam of the front door was all that rang throughout the house, the pitch black darkness was like a cold greeting. One that you had gotten used to when you would come home from work late in the evening. With Jason on his patrol and the house void of  anyone else, you were left to your own devices. Something that you sometimes wish was not the case. 

Dropping your keys on to the side table of your Gotham apartment, you pushed your heels off and kicked them out of the way of the front door. Flipping the light switch up and to the on position soon after. As your bare feet connected with  the cold wood flooring of the apartment, it seemed to ground you just a bit. 

This week at work had been hell, your boss had been working you so much you felt like if you blinked within his line of sight he would scold you for goofing off. So here you were. Sore feet, skirt and blouse cladded body tired as ever. Stripping yourself of your clothes one by one you held the pile of clothing in your arms until you reached your room, gliding through it to the connected bathroom.

Dropping the clothing in the hamper in the bathroom, you glanced at yourself in the mirror above the sink. Your eyes were glazed over from your tiredness, your pretty brown skin was beginning to lack its glow, and the bags under your eyes were getting heavier by the minute. Stressed wasn’t even the word needed to explain your state of being. 

Another sigh fell from your lips, and a yawn followed soon after as you made your way to the shower. grabbing your pink bonnet off the sink where you had left it, you gathered your braids and tucked them into the bonnet, the band laying snug on your forehead. you hoped that the water that would soon come beating down against your skin could help you become less stressed. 

your shower was therapeutic, but not enough to fully ease your mind. no, what you needed and wanted was jason. you had missed him all day — knowing your home would be empty when you arrived home due to him needing to tend to important matters. as you climbed into bed, dressed in pajamas that consisted of an old shirt and shorts, the squeak of the old bed frame that needed to be replaced welcomed you. 

i need to remind jason to help me pick out another bed frame next weekend. your thoughts rang.

grabbing at his pillow on his side of the bed, you pulled it towards you. his scent seemingly pulls you out of the brain fog you were currently in, just slightly. but it is still not enough. soon you would realize even attempting to fall asleep was futile. even though your eyelids were heavy and begged for rest.

you tossed and turned for hours, huffing out a frustrated sigh many times into the dark bedroom. peeling your eyes open you peered at the alarm clock that read ten minutes to five in the morning. it dawned on you that it had been  almost six hours that you had been fighting to fall asleep.

shaking your head as you grumbled, you stretched your limbs as you pulled yourself from the bed. your bonnet slipped off in the process, but you paid it no attention. trudging out of the room to make way to the kitchen. grabbing a cup from the cupboard, you pulled the fridge open as you grabbed the bottle of juice and opened it. beginning to pour it, that's when you heard it—

it was the sound of familiar heavy boots hitting the wooden floors of your apartment. even though happiness played at the edge of your mind, your face barely portrayed it. you slightly jumped as your eyes met his own as he stood in the entrance of the kitchen. jason’s arrival was quiet, surely because he was confused about who was in your kitchen this time of morning. seeing as you were usually asleep.

“what’re you doing up, baby?” 

his question flowed through the air as he began to close the gap between you two. his helmet was nowhere to be seen, most likely tucked away somewhere in your apartment.

“couldn’t sleep,” your words came out rougher than you had intended. there was a beat of silence but it washed away as jason spoke again. his brows furrowed for a minute then relaxed as he rubbed a hand over his face, fingers running over his scars for a mere second. 

“so, before i forget, bruce wants the whole family to come over for dinner saturday,” he informed as he backed away slowly, sitting at your dinner table as he pulled off his boots. “said he’s not taking no for an answer.”

“jason, i don’t know—” you tried to inject, though he had not seemed to notice.

“i’m sure alfred will probably be cooking almost all day tomorrow, in preparation. everyone eats like they’ve never seen food before—”

“jason, fuck, i already have enough on my plate right now. my boss is up my ass every time i walk into the office. i’m up to my neck in paperwork, all because he decided to spontaneously lay off two of my coworkers. i haven’t been able to sleep one bit, even though i’m tired. on top of that, i have to work on saturday. i don’t have the time to worry about a fucking dinner at bruce’s house.”

the kitchen filled with silence as you stood in front of the fridge. jason’s eyes taking in your current state as he sat still after your outburst. your braids cascaded down your back, but the few that slipped over your shoulder to frame your face made him aware of the bags that began to form. you looked overwhelmed, stressed even. he was too wrapped up in his own thoughts to realize at first — which usually doesn’t happen.

“…you do seem tired, baby. i’m sorry i didn’t notice,” jason broke the silence. “how about we go to the room, i know exactly what you need to get to sleep.” 

“no, jay i’m sorry– ”

“it’s nothing to be sorry for, baby. i’m not angry,” jason ensured as he stood and walked over to you. grabbing at your free hand and pulling you towards him, taking the cup of juice from your hand. your head laid on his chest momentarily. “how about you go to the room? clothes off for me by the time i get in there, pretty girl.”

the weakening bed frame squeaks once again as you drop onto the mattress, jason grabs onto your ankle and dragged you closer to him as he got on the bed soon after. grabbing softly at your face, he slightly squished your cheeks together as he leaned down towards you to plant a peck on your lips that drifted into a heated kiss. without words, he pulled away, placing slow, open-mouth kisses down your neck — one of his hands grabbing at one of your breasts as he tweaked and played at your nipple. 

you felt completely vulnerable with how he was completely dressed; having quickly showered in the guest bathroom to give you some space. jason had dressed in a simple black shirt and gray sweatpants. his scent flooding your senses

“ you feel so soft, baby,” jason complimented,  “ ‘could play with this pretty body all day, every day.”

his words pulled a moan from your lips. reaching out to brush your hand over his hair you let out a small gasp as his lips wrapped around the nipple he had just toyed with. your hand tightened just a little around his hair, a flurry of black and whitened strands peaking through your finger as your acrylics ran over his scalp. his tongue dragging soft circles around the hardened bud at that moment. pulling away after almost two minutes, jason placed a kiss right above your nipple — then repeated his earlier actions with your neglected nipple. 

“pretty fucking tits,” jason grunts, eyes darkening as he looks up at you with your nipple between his lip, “such a beautiful girl.” 

“shit— thank you, daddy,” you let out as his hand snaked between you two. pushing your thighs that parted to accommodate him apart even more. feeling his rough fingertips part your slick folds in a teasing manner, you whined for some sort of friction and lifted your hips at his actions. to which jason listened as he sat his palm right above your cunt, thumb dipping downward to rub tight and heavy-handed little circles over your clit. 

“ ‘s that feel good, pretty girl?” 

“y—yeah,” you stutter out. 

“you know all i wanna do is make you feel good, right?”

“yeah, you make me feel so good, jay”

“so the next time you feel overwhelmed,” jason began as he began to lay kisses down your torso, stopping just below your navel, “don’t bring that attitude to me. just talk to me, ‘ya understand?”

“yes, f—fuck, i’m sorry daddy,”

locking eyes with you, jason licked a long stripe over your cunt. his tongue caressing your attentive clit. he did it a few more times before wrapping his lips around your hardened bud, taking harsh sucks at it as if he were trying to pull an orgasm from you. 

“ ‘taste so fuckin’ good,” jason spoke as his eyelids became heavy with lust, “nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout baby.”

feeling his hands drag over your inner thighs your hips seemed to move on their own as you attempted to grind against him. only for jason to let out a moan around your clit, hands now close enough to feel a thick finger prodding at your slit. sliding in slowly as his eyes trained on your face. the drag of his finger in and out of you was mind numbing as he found your most vulnerable spot within mere seconds — feeling you clench around him in approval of his actions.

“ ‘you gonna cum all over daddy’s face?”

“yes…!”

your dragged-out and whined confession was followed by almost immediate proof. the walls of your cunt clench around jason as he adds a second finger, tongue still dragging over your clit. a sheen of your cream decorating his fingers as you came crashing down.

“that’s it, baby, let it out,” jason spoke as softly as he could. lapping at every bit of your essence he could take in as if he would be ripped away at any second. though, your release did not stop him. his fingers continued to work you open as he pulled his mouth away from your cunt. watching as you clenched around his fingers repeatedly from the lack of a break. adding a third finger, jason listened to the moan you squeaked out in response. 

he was so attentive towards you, so it had not  shocked him when you declared that you were on the verge of cumming yet again. instead, he buried his tongue between your folds once again. his tongue heavy and wide as he parted your cunt. licking and kissing at your clit as if he were making out without it. 

“j—jay don’t stop,” you begged as your hips chased after his tongue. 

“mhm,” he hummed in agreeance, the vibrations from his response knocking you over the edge. the last moan you drew out hitched in your throat and slowly progressed into a slight whine. your thighs closing around his head, to which jason used his free hand to open them once more.

“there you fucking go, good girl,” jason groaned out a praise, laying a single kiss on your clit before he sat up from his position on the bed. bending down towards you to plant a messy kiss on your lips, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. as he pulled back you took in his disheveled look as he took in your somewhat dazed look from reaching your high twice. watching as he pulled his shirt off, you were greeted by the scar that spanned across his chest and abdomen.

“that was just two,” jason spoke, “i want to see you cum until you can’t think.” 

it was something you knew he would follow through with. especially when he laid you back down, spreading your legs once more as he tugged his sweats and boxers off in one go, getting you to wrap around his waist. with his knees digging into the mattress he slid his cock back and forth between your sticky folds, groaning as his tip met your clit and caused you to twitch due to sensitivity. wasting no time, he lined up his tip with your entrance. sliding in gently, he placed a hand between your breast, slightly pushing you into the mattress, while his other hand gripped your hip.

you could feel him filling you inch by inch, stretching you out as he pushed himself into you. your mouth slightly agape as he reached the hilt and left you with a moment to adjust.

“you’re so tight,” he slurred out, “ ‘thought i opened you up enough with my fingers, baby. loosen up for me.”

“i’m trying, jay— fuck, ‘feels like you’re in my stomach,” you replied in shaky voice. which only caused jason to grin in response. 

“you poor thing, you can take it. i know you can.” 

pulling his hips away from your own he swings them downward onto you, repeatedly. drawing — in his own words — the prettiest sound from your lips. his own moans and grunts slipped through at times, his sounds making you feel just as good as his actions. 

“oh shit, you feel so good daddy,” you swore as your fingers found a purchase wrapped around the hand pushing you into the mattress, the scars decorating them lying just beneath your fingertips. his strokes were sensual and deep — like he planned on driving you crazy. if he wanted you to think of nothing else but him he was definitely on the right track.

“yeah��? i want you to show me how good it feels. cum for me,” jason stated as his hand reach up at your cheeks, “you know what i want. let me see you cream all over me again.” 

“jason you’re so nasty,” you forced out as his hip persisted. you were growing a bit embarrassed at how you were squeezing at jason’s cock, his stamina surely helped him wade off his release. 

“i know you ain’t complaining,” he said with a huffed out laugh. a few swears falling from his lips as he pushed the feeling of wanting to cum far down his list of priorities.

“i—i’m not, shit, i’m cumming…!”

“cumming so good you’re trying to milk me i swear,” jason groaned out as he watched the layer of your sticky orgasm cover his cock, “fuck— not yet though, ‘gotta make sure i take all that stress away.”

it felt like he had already done so, with the way your mind became fuzzy as you surged through your third release. jason’s hips barely skipping a beat as he fucked you through it, prolonging the feeling of ecstasy. your words were starting to fail you as he pulled you down the mattress and stood to his full height at the foot of the bed. he raised one of your legs over his shoulder, the other following soon after as he pulled you into a mating press. 

grabbing at his forearms that he planted firmly on each side of you, you swore you could feel him everywhere as he pushed himself into you again. the feeling starting to become overwhelming as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. kissing at your brown cheeks he stilled for a moment as his eyes softened. 

“you’re so fucking beautiful,” jason spoke as his lips met yours again, “i’m so lucky to have such a hardworking, intelligent girl.”

amidst him praising you, he began to move. feeling as though he was trying to dig you out in the current position. 

“ ‘l—love you,” was all you seemed to let out as your words drifted off into useless babbling. his hips hitting the back of your thighs with each thrust as he planted a kiss on one of your legs.

“you know i love you too, baby.”

the room seemed to grow hotter as the bed frame below you squeaked at jason’s well paced thrusts. the little hair that began to grow in on his happy trail becoming covered in your slick as he rubbed against your clit with each thrust.

this time you were unable to even form the words to warn him of what was to come. you felt a tightness in your lower stomach that seemed to get worse with each movement from him. but this one felt different. the constant rubbing against your sensitive cunt in combination to him stretching you out was like he was trying to break you.

“that’s it, i know. i know, baby,” jason cooes as he reads your face, “all you need is to be fucked out. make a mess for me.”

you swore you saw stars as you gripped at jason’s arms. surely leaving impressions of your acrylics on his skin as you came. spurts of clear fluid bouncing off his abdomen as he continued to push himself in and out. 

“f—fuck, i need you to do that one more time.”

it was not long before you found yourself on top of him, bouncing as good as you could with how tired you were becoming. pushing his cock into your overly spent cunt, he had let you sink down at your own pace. it took everything in him to hold himself back but tonight was not about him. jason wanted to live up to his earlier statements: all he wants to do is make you feel good.

he watched as your bouncing started to become sloppy, your legs weak from the many times you had cum before. reaching his hands out, he intertwined his fingers with your own as he took in your fucked out state. 

“need me to help you, pretty girl?” 

“y—yes please,” 

that was all it took for him to pull you towards him. your head falling onto the white pillows beside his head, your face right next to his. taking a second to place your hands behind your back, he held your wrist together with one hand as he grabbed at your waist with the other. your knees stayed planted onto the mattress as he positioned himself. fucking up into you, his own hips pushing you up and down. the bedframe squealing under his continuous movements seemed to encourage him even more.

“ ‘treat me so good, daddy,” your whines were broken and tired. he was sure you would sleep nice and good when you two were done. but for now a chuckle left his mouth.

“you deserve it,” jason spoke in between his own breathy moans, “you work so hard, fuck—  yeaaa… squeeze me just like that. you are worth everything, baby.” 

the tears that had been playing at your eyes since he had you at the edge of the bed seemed to fall at the ringing of his words in your ears. feeling your heartbeat quicken and your stomach tighten you forced yourself to make sense through your nonsense rambling.

“ ‘wanna kiss, jay.” 

to which he didn’t complain. his hips never faltered as he turned his head towards you, connecting your lips once again. groaning as he felt you gripping around his cock as if he were attempting to leave your soaked cunt.

“want me to fill you up?” he questioned in between the kiss. a question you tried your best to answer but only forced out a mumble of mhm, yea. 

it didn’t take long, as you reached your peak, squirting once more as it dripped down jason’s balls. his lips were still on yours as his hips stuttered, moments later flooding your cunt with ropes of white cum. despite not looking down, you could feel his cum leaking from between your legs as you gushed around him. only for him to fuck back up into you a few more times before slowly pulled himself from your pussy.

“how do you feel, baby?” he questioned as he let your hands go. the hand that was on your waist moving to remove a braid from your vision as it had begun to slip as he adjusted himself under you. he had put his body flat against the mattress and allowed you too just lay on him in your fucked out state. 

“tired,” you replied as much as your worn out body would allow you. 

“how about we go pee, then when we get back we can both sleep all you want? i don’t have to handle patrol tomorrow, Dick’s got it covered.”

“mhm…i’d like that.”

“thought so. and don’t worry, i’ll handle that boss of yours, go ahead and call off for Saturday,” jason smiled fondly as he grabbed at your body. gearing up to pick you up and help you to the bathroom.

[twis-world]

The Remedy That Is You (Riddle Version)

Mentions: Fluff, Riddle-Centric, Second Person, Gender Neutral Reader

No matter how many a time the students of Nightraven College witnessed how their Housewarden did a complete 180 in your presence, it never ceased to amaze them.

It eventually got to the point where a majority of students began to question if you really were magickless. There was just no way your mere presence could bring out such light in their eyes, face softening and a smile so tender it was as if they were gazing upon one of the Seven.

Just how did you do it?

Riddle

“You imbecile!” Riddle’s voice boomed, echoing all throughout Heartslabyul. Fear set into all who heard it, a chain reaction flowing through their bodies as their hearts beat quicker, palms growing clammy in a cold sweat. No matter how many times their beloved Housewarden proved that he had changed, that he was no longer the cruel tyrant they all once feared, it did not stop the utter terror that ran through them when they did succeed in trying his patience.

Especially when it concerned the prized animals they cared for.

“Have I not made it clear several times that you are not to directly hit the hedgehogs?” Riddle continued to scream, face flaming red as he cradled the delicate creature in his arms. Whether or not the poor thing was shaking of its own account or fear of the one holding it was to be determined, but it mattered not with all eyes on the beholder. “Are you so dense that you cannot remember something as simple as that?”

“Housewarden Riddle,” the victim stuttered. It was a first-year clearly, face deathly pale and looking as if his soul would leave his body any moment in a fit of desperation. Anything to get away from such a ghastly scenario. “I-I…I swear it was a-a-an accident-”

“How do you accidentally do such a thing?” Riddle snapped back, nearly frothing at the mouth as he marched forward into the other’s space. The surrounding students gasped, taking a step back in turn and preparing for the inevitable as his hand noticeably itched for his pen. The first-year clearly noticed as well, eyes bulging and feet shifting in preparation to run if need be. “Even so, there is no room for such impertinence. Why, I should have your head for that!”

“Riddle?”

The effect was almost instant.

The speed at which the male stepped back was almost inhuman, head snapping back so quickly a few flinched at the thought of such inevitable whiplash. The snarl on his lips dropped, not taking on a smile but smoothing out the lines his earlier scowl created. In fact, the only evidence of his incredible fury from but a moment ago was the ever present brightness of his face, taking its time in ever so slowly draining away.

Then, they saw it.

The moment you managed to break through the crowd, eyebrows furrowed and mouth slightly agape as you surveyed the situation, the sharpness in his gaze disappeared. It was almost comical how instantly his pupils blew, nearly overtaking the storm in his eyes. Some swore that if it were possible hearts would most definitely be shining from his orbs, beating in tune with the one confined by his mortal body yet still promised to you.

Great Seven, the way he greeted you as well. It nearly ached how tenderly a soft ‘My Rose’ escaped from his lips, and it was then they all knew that in his mind the rest of the world faded away until all that lay within it was you.

“Ace nearly gave me a heart attack when he blew up my phone, spewing nonsense of a bomb about to blow the whole of the dorm,” you gently teased, stepping towards him with such ease despite the still shaking of Riddle’s body. Yet, as you placed a delicate hand on his arm, the tremors all but disappeared. “Guess he wasn’t that far off for once.”

The red fury on his face was now one of shame and embarrassment, tucking his head down and staring as he gently calmed the still shaking hedgehog. “He exaggerates…” he nearly mumbled, refusing to look up at the gentle smile you were giving him. 

You stared at him with the same fondness he just had moments ago, thumb softly rubbing against his arm. Words could not explain the relief they all felt when you looked up at them all and nodded your head back to the main dorm building, silently giving them permission to finally escape.

At the sound of their retreat Riddle’s head shot up, confusion evident. “Who gave you all permission to leave?” he called out, stepping out of your grasp and staring at their retreating backs. If his hands weren’t occupied you were sure he would be waving them in a blind fury. “Come back! You have yet to-”

“Riddle,” you interrupted, cupping his face in your hands and turning his gaze to you instead. It was a miracle that he had yet to pass out, blood still continuously rushing to his face as he had no choice but to lock eyes with you. Fingertips caressed under his eyes, exaggerated breathing from you goading him to follow with, not once turning away. Not daring to escape the land you’ve trapped him in.

He didn’t know how much time passed, just the two of you standing there and the animal in his arms long since passed out, nor did he care. Just your touch alone was enough to soothe his soul, your gaze and sweet words were simply a bonus that he thought himself unworthy of, yet here he was.

“There we go,” you cooed, dropping your hands but not once breaking contact from his face. Down his cheeks that you held for a moment, nails barely scraping down his neck in tune with the pleasant shiver it sent down his spine, dancing across his shoulders and tickling his waist before coming to a stop there. “Why don’t we sit and enjoy some tea to help calm you down more, hm?”

“It’s not yet past the lunch hour,” he responded, yet almost drunkenly. “Rule 148 states-” The small burst of laughter that left you was enough to shut him up, watching as your head tilted back and shined even brighter than the sun that warmed you both. He decided that he really didn’t want you to stop anytime soon. “Though…though I suppose I could make an exception…”

A few more chuckles rang, and you gave him another playful smile along with a gentle squeeze. “How kind.”

Yes, yes you really were quite magical.

[beenbaanbuun]

sick w/ addams!matz

whilst i’m busy writing part two to opposites attract, here is just some silly fluffy stuff!!

——————————————

you’re sick. flu, by the feel of it. with your heavy head, sniffly nose and permanent fatigue, there’s very little else it could be. it’s unfortunate, but nothing you couldn’t deal with by yourself. a few days bed rest and you’ll be fine.

your lovers don’t quite agree. all it took was for the word ‘fever’ to leave your lips and suddenly all hell broke loose. you should’ve known that the second you brought it up to seonghwa it would be blown entirely out of proportion. the man is level headed about a lot of things; you are not one of them.

it had been a military operation with him the second the word ‘fever’ dropped from your lips. for three days now, you’ve been under strict instruction to not leave their bed, trapped there like a prisoner with hongjoong watching over you like a hawk. if you step a toe out of line, you get a sharp slap to the back of your thigh and a quick scolding. its hardly enough to keep you in check, especially when your regular punishments are so much heavier, but hongjoong is also under his husbands strict instructions to be as gentle with you as humanly possible.

it’s boring.

of course, you love talking with hongjoong when he has the time to join you in bed, but he still has to work. laying for hours at a time just staring at the back of your daddy’s head as he writes letters to his clients is nothing short of dull. he expects you to stay silent so he can concentrate on what he’s writing. you thought it to be a silly rule until you disobeyed on the first day and he moved himself and his work to the armchair out in the hallway; he could still listen in for any sign of you trying to escape the confines of their bed, but he could finally get enough peace and quiet to concentrate on his work. those few hours were so boring that you quickly made the decision that you could manage silence for a few hours if it meant that you weren’t alone.

sometimes seonghwa would come and visit you in the room, although with you being sick, you found that he had far less free time than usual. in between working in the greenhouse and cooking up cold remedies in the kitchen, he found that he actually got to spend very little time by your side. he trusted hongjoong to follow his very specific instructions on how to take care of you (make sure you’re drinking fluids, make sure you’re always warm, replace the cloth on your head every 1-2 hours) but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to be more active in your care routine himself.

its the morning of the 3rd day than seonghwa finds his wish coming to fruition, and unfortunately his time being stretched even thinner. of course, he doesn’t blame hongjoong for having to leave the house for work—antiquities don’t source themselves, after all—but he can’t help but feel a little stressed with the notion of adding ‘caring for darling’ onto his already long list of tasks. from what he’s heard from hongjoong, you still like to push your luck even when your head feels like a furnace and you’re coughing your lungs up. he hardly has the time to guard you like hongjoong does, so as he tucks your still sleeping body into the almost empty bed, he decides that he’ll just have to hope that maybe today you’ll see sense and behave. it’s a long shot, but he’ll just have to trust you for today.

ten minutes later, he finds that trust being broken when he hears a bump from the bedroom. he sighs, closing his eyes in frustration as the sound of a door creaking open echos through the house. the slapping of bare feet against a slick wooden floor soon follows and before he knows it, you’re coming down the stairs. it’s a good job that seonghwa isn’t an angry person, finding it an ugly emotion that doesn’t reflect well on anyone. you’d be in for a hellish day otherwise.

‘you’re supposed to stay in bed, little lamb,’ he hums as you show your face in the door to his greenhouse. you look wide eyed and bewildered, your brain still clearly muddled by sleep. it’s cute, and he finds himself smiling though his annoyance. you hobble towards him wrapped in the black knitted bedspread he’d lay over you not moments before, and he finds himself unable to control the chuckle that bubbles up within him. he lays the watering can down on the table and spreads his arms for you to topple into. ‘tell me why you’re flaunting my rules so carelessly, darling.’

you bask in his warmth for just a second, feeling safe and happy in his lithe arms. he’s so much gentler with you than hongjoong is; even when you’re sick your daddy likes to manhandle you to be exactly where he wants. it’s not like you’re complaining, though. you like the way it makes you feel when he treats you so helplessly.

‘woke up alone,’ you mutter into seonghwa’s chest. the lace of his blouse was scratchy against your too-hot face, but you can’t seem to pull yourself away from him. you just want him close, even if you have to sacrifice your comfort for the sake of it. ‘hongjoong wasn’t there and you weren’t there and i’m lonely.’

any frustration that resided within seonghwa slowly melts away with your confession. you’re just too sweet for him to stay upset with, especially when you’re so dopey and reliant on them.

‘hongjoong had to work, lamb; your daddy can’t stay at home all the time,’ soft fingers lace themselves into your hair, gently petting you like you’re some sort of kitten. he supposes you do rather look like one when you’re wearing your collar. you’re just so sweet and submissive when you sit by seonghwa’s feet at he puts it on for you. it’s a shame you’re too sick for that right now, your skin too sensitive and the collar too tickly; it would only serve to irritate you. ‘and you know that i have to work as well. i have to take care of the house, the plants and cook an unheavenly amount of chicken noodle soup for you. i wish i could stay in bed with you, but i can’t.’

and you understand, of course you do, but that doesn’t mean you’re happy with it. you want hongjoong to be home, and you want seonghwa to have less to do. you want to be stuffed between them from the moment you wake up to the moment you sleep, doted on and cared for by your two lovers. the notion of that not being possible just doesn’t seem to compute in your fever-addled brain. you whimper into seonghwa’s chest.

‘oh, my precious little lamb,’ he coos, resting his chin on top of your head, ‘hongjoong will be home in a few hours, and i’m sure i can take a short break from my errands at some point. it’s hardly like you’re going to be alone for long.’

‘take a break now,’ you insist, ‘just for a little while…’

it’s a trap, seonghwa knows that. the moment he crawls back into bed with you, you’ll find some way of making him stay there until hongjoong gets home. either you’ll crawl onto him and refuse to let him go, or you’ll use your adorable charm to manipulate him into staying with you. still, he can’t find himself able to say no to you. he hums in agreement and pulls away from you slightly.

‘okay, little lamb,’ your face lights up and he grins. even with your sweaty forehead and slightly grey skin, he can’t help but think you’re the prettiest creature to walk the earth, ‘lead the way.’

[lalunanymph]

𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐅 𝐈𝐒 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐍𝐎 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐆𝐎

in japanese culture, 'jizos' are small figurines dressed in red caps and bibs to honor the souls of babies who were never born

tw miscarriage, implied cheating, heavy angst, itoshi rin x fem!reader

The salty sea air stung his eyes, drawing to them a sheen of tears that threatened to spill out by the sight that greeted him. 

Close to the shore, draped in a long trench coat and staring out into the horizon, the woman he loved stood with her back turned from him, shoulders hunched and eyes vacant. 

After days of traversing this small town and asking around well-meaning shopkeepers and local experts, he had finally found the plum orchard belonging to her family. A few kilometres from the bountiful field was the seashore where she often spent time in the evenings to conclude a full day of plum-picking. 

Rin stared at you, at your silhouette, raking his eyes up and down your figure like a starving man. There was a pit hollowing out in his rib cage, right underneath his heart where it used to beat valiantly—strongly—and now was nothing but an empty shell. He took one step forward, and stopped.

The beach was empty today, the winter season repulsing tourists from enjoying the crystalline waters. Vendors and tired mothers alike could not find solace from this harsh weather, and so they turned inward, away from the harsh cold. But, you could not be any different. You sought out the wind, the chill and the loneliness like an orphan chased away from home, tracking the clouds in the sky with sightless, forlorn eyes. 

Rin watched as you sat down on a stone bench, drawing your knees to your chin. He thought you had never looked this small and fragile as you did now. 

His feet took him towards you without him telling them to, an impulse he swore he had gotten rid of those months ago when you disappeared from his life and into anonymity. Every step forward felt like he was walking on glass, and he paused in jerky stops, wrestling with his trembling knees that ached to kneel before you in seeking forgiveness. 

You heard someone approaching, and the sudden interruption to your usual peaceful days fractured into broken shards of icy realisation when you saw him standing a few feet away. 

His mop of dark green hair with its too long bangs falling in his face, the pinch between his brow and the devastation in his hollow, teal eyes. He looked thinner than you remembered, shoulders hunched and cheekbones gaunt. The most telling of his suffering were his eyes—they were always filled with fiery passion and disdain for those he perceived as useless and weaker than him. Those teal pits were depleted of their rage, replaced by crestfallen despair that made you wish you never turned around in the first place. 

Something fractured in you, razing down your composure for a few seconds to allow a show of fear flitting across your face. Rin walked towards you with his palms raised, a peace treaty for his declaration of conflict. He pleaded without words for you to stay put, even going so far as to approach you cautiously like you were a wounded animal. 

Your breathing ran jagged, and a tremble overtook your hands. Rapidly, your eyes ticked towards the closest escape path, wondering how fast you could sprint to evade his touch—his presence—and hide away once more so he could never unearth you again. As if he could read your mind, Rin’s hoarse, low voice pierced through the blood rushing in your ears.

“Y/N, stop. Don’t run.” 

You stood, rooted to the spot, breath tumbling out in frosty trembles. He stopped a few feet away from you, letting you gasp in the salty air that was not tainted by his familiar pine cologne and musk. Giving you some space to adapt to his presence. 

Rin was a man who floundered with his words if it wasn’t steeped in threats or aggression. There was nothing he could do to remedy the sudden catch on his tongue, the lump in his throat that almost swallowed him whole. You were better at this than he was; better at speaking, at expressing yourself and your love. You were always a better person than he was. 

He could not even offer you comfort because he forgot how it felt—how comfort tasted and moulded in between his embrace, forever lost to his blind touches ever since the day you disappeared from his life. 

The wind started to pick up and bite your exposed wrists, and you wished you had brought some gloves to ward off the chill of his ocean deep eyes boring into yours.  

Neither of you spoke for a time, the waves crashing to shore the only accompaniment to this lovelorn scene playing out between two people who were no longer lovers. You glanced at your boot-clad feet sinking in the soft sand, and turned your gaze out towards the horizon. 

The wind played with the edges of your locks, and Rin fought the unreasonable urge to tuck them behind your ears, to not take your cheeks in his hands like he used to do a million times before.

“Y/N—”

“Why did you come here?” Your voice was feathered with exhaustion, echoing the dark circles underneath your eyes. “The paparazzi will catch you—your career will be on the line if you’re seen with me. You should go.” 

You turned around to walk away and Rin didn’t know what was worse—that your first thought was to keep his reputation safe or that you assumed he hadn’t taken the consequences into consideration when he made this impossible move to find you. There were more dire concerns on the line besides his reputation; his probation with PXG hanging in thin air, the number of fouls piling up on his name, the amount of misses he had during last week’s training alone…

But, Rin disregarded them all. He buried them in the back of his mind as he took a train, then a plane and rented a car to drive himself to this little, far-flung town hundreds of miles away from Tokyo. 

Just for a chance to see you. 

And you had turned your back on him, thinking he was here by mistake. 

He wasn’t. 

Rin reached out to grab your wrist, not anticipating the choked cry you released. He cringed away like you had scalded him and noticed a second too late the silvery tracks running down your cheeks. 

“Please,” your voice was hoarse, pitiful. “I already gave you everything. Everything, Rin. Please leave me alone.” 

The tiny sniffles you expelled, the tears you dashed away and the completely miserable fracturing of your expression made him come to a hard pause. 

Rin swallowed heavily, about to reach out for you again when you shrank back and shook your head. His lungs were filling up with water and his knees were weighted with lead when they sank into the sand, strong arms vining around your torso as he buried his face into your lower back. Desperately holding onto you so you wouldn’t wash away like his hopes and dreams—whispers of foolish wishes that would never come true: of the peaceful life he wanted to have with you, your beautiful face the first thing he would see every morning when he greeted the world, the adorable reflections of your children who would have his eyes and your smile…

“Don’t,” his pleas cracked under the weight of his muffled sobs. “Don’t go. Please. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m… I’m so sorry, baby.” 

But, like sand slipping through his fingers, you evaded his grasp and anguished yearning, leaving him alone on his knees as if you never existed in the first place. The brief contact he had with you seared through his skin like an iron brand, tasting of your warmth and sunshine he had missed in what felt like decades. It was like he could finally smell, see and love vividly, only for that light to be taken away from him when you pried his hands off you and took one step forward. 

Disregarding him behind in the dust like how his brother once did. Rin refused to let you go, gripping onto the hem of your coat, praying you would turn around and see him again—love him again. 

“Rin—” The choked emotion in your tone was far from the spite one would assume a heartbroken woman like you would have.

You had known Itoshi Rin to be an incredibly proud man who would never beg or plead for anyone quite like how he was bowing on his knees for you. And it pained you to see him this broken down—this beaten.

Because of you. 

“Stop. Don’t.” Stand up, live your life, leave me alone.

Words you could not say perforated the air harsher than any salt or mineral could to rust the foundations of your feeble relationship with Rin. “Please, go. You… I don’t want to do this. We’re over, Rin. We’ve been over. Stop. Don’t do this.” 

You halfway wished you hadn’t glanced back at him to tug your coat from his grasp. Wished you hadn’t seen his red-rimmed eyes, his swollen lips from biting back quiet sobs or the utter agony you could never fully grasp swimming in those beautiful teal irises of his. They swirled around you like dangerous eddies, dunking you into their icy bellies and numbing your rational thoughts from the perilous consequences. 

And you valiantly fought off the current, trying hard to shake the hatred lingering in your soul for the words he spat in his brother’s face during the heat of their argument. 

It happened weeks ago but you could still recall what he said like it was imprinted on the back of your eyelids. 

Don’t be a lukewarm idiot—she’s worthless and means nothing to me. I only wanted to take revenge on you so you would know what it… what it felt like to lose! 

A tear slipped past his lash line, free falling down to the grainy ground and sinking into the porous beyond. How many tears had the sand taken from the sea only to welcome her agony over and over again like a patient martyr? Another drop was hardly a burden onto his shifting shoulders; Rin’s heartbreak held no substance in time besides this very second, soon to be absorbed, never to be seen again. 

All you did was sped up the process, not wanting to delay this excruciating torment and endure it for another second longer. 

“I’m sorry,” he offered again, this time in a softer tone, as if he understood he had lost the war before it even began. “I didn’t mean what I said, I’m so sorry. Forgive me, baby? Please? Take me back.”

The last sentence was more of a desperate order than a request, his entire heart on the line when he reached out to you again, beseeching you like a sinner begging for clemency from a deity, taking your hands and pressing your palms to his cheeks. “Let me explain myself. I love y—“

“Please.” 

The warmth you bestowed onto him even for just a few seconds was ripped away again, with more force this time, and you didn’t care if he was on his knees; you wanted to run away and never see him again.

Taking a few mincing steps back, your heart exploded with agonising relief when he didn’t move after you, frozen to the ground with his arms extended out towards your direction. They eventually flopped back to his side, losing all momentum and hope when you shook your head, fighting back a sob with a palm pressed to your mouth. Your eyes were heavy with unshed tears, and the moment you looked away, one of those pesky droplets broke free and slipped down your cheek, illuminating a path he wanted to kiss away with his apologetic lips; to stop the flow of sorrow with his aching devotion. 

But, from your tense shoulders and frozen shock, you would rather swallow glass than let him do that; you wouldn’t let him come close to you without putting up a fight. 

Balling your fists over your mouth, he watched, helpless to do anything but watch when you expelled a loud, muffled sob and shook your head from side to side, as if to push off the pain clinging to you like a second skin. 

“Go,” you heaved through the cracks of your fingers, shaking from head to toe. “You’ve taken everything from me—my life back in Tokyo, my relationship with… with Sae… my reputation… you’ve gotten your revenge, Rin.” 

You gasped that last part out, releasing one fist to push into your stomach, grounding your pain with a physical one so that you wouldn’t lose your mind right this instance. “I meant nothing to you, r-right? So, you shouldn’t be here if I m-meant n-nothing to y-you.” 

“Wait—”

He barely blurted out his next words when you swivelled on your axis and sprinted back to your car, leaving him alone on the cold sand to fend off his tears. His knees smarted when he stood back to his full height, hands jammed into his pockets to hide the tremble in his fingers as those agonised teal eyes watched your car disappear down the road, back to the safety of your family’s orchard. Back to your cocoon you had spun to hide yourself away from the world.

Away from him. 

Rin dropped his eyes to the sand staining his dark wash jeans, methodically brushing back one grain after another, his mind humming a blank. He ignored the pain in favour of taking off his shoes and socks, rolling up the hem of his jeans to his calves and soaking his feet in the cold waves lapping around him. For a few seconds, he closed his eyes, immersed in the cold, fighting back the pain manifesting in his right temple. 

He peeled open his eyes again, and realising that he had sunken in a few inches since he last stood at the edge, he reluctantly stepped back, picking his shoes and socks from near the stone bench and made his way towards the old, rented car. Driving away, he escaped with his metaphorical tail in between his legs, not noticing a lone figure scrutinising him at a lookout point just above the beach. 

Dressed in dark jeans and a similar jacket to Rin, his signature auburn hair tucked under a baseball cap and a large pair of shades covering his eyes, Itoshi Sae watched his brother fall to his knees for the woman who once belonged to him.

He was positioned too far to hear the words you both exchanged, but he could guess the context when Rin refused to let you go, clinging onto you like how a scared child might to his mother about to leave out the door forever.  

Sae admitted he didn’t feel a shred of satisfaction when you repeatedly turned away, only for Rin to grip onto your coat, your hands, and nearly catch your waist again when you finally evaded him and sprinted towards your car. He wasn’t a cruel bastard the world made him out to be, not when he had to fight off the ache to tug his little brother back from the seashore, eyes narrowed in scrutiny as Rin stood stock still at the ocean’s lip. 

He waited, wondering if Rin would succumb to the same pit of misery that was exactly like the one in his chest and wade deeper into the churning sea. Sae mulled over the thought of whether he had it in him to pull his younger brother back from the edge. 

But, the moment Rin walked back to his car, Sae released a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. 

He grunted, hands tightening into fists when his otouto drove away, in the direction of your home; the same address Sae had painstakingly researched for till the early hours of morning. 

Truth be told, Itoshi Sae had no idea what he was doing here. 

He had abandoned his flight to Spain and chose a domestic one to this buttfuck town in the middle of nowhere, just for the slimmest hope of seeing you again. 

Peak season was upon the football world, and his team had a match against Italy next week. In theory, he should be practising his drills until he collapses in exhaustion, not stalking the woman whose life he ruined with clandestine pictures of her affair with his own brother. 

What is wrong with me?  

Sae could never find the exact answer for that. So, he waited until the sky dipped under the horizon and the shutters of night started to close upon the corners of the world. 

Only then did he turn back to his own car to drive in the opposite direction of Rin; back to his hotel to pack up and leave this shit town before his coach realised he was missing. 

In just one afternoon, your entire world had turned upside down.

You should’ve known that when peace came with the realisation that life had at least managed to work out for you, your past would come knocking on your door, like a bloodhound sniffing out your deepest wounds.

And you absolutely had not expected to see Rin at all. 

You could barely pay attention to your job, and the cash register felt more like a barricade hiding you from incoming fire than a counter you could seek a few hours of solace from. Counting spare change needed a calculator’s help, and you had nearly dropped an entire jar of expensive umeboshi if it wasn’t for Kenji’s quick reflexes in catching the heavy glass.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised to him, almost in tears. “I’m… I’m not right today.” 

He didn’t have to ask you why, because the second you uttered those words, the shop bell rang shrilly, and Rin stepped into the tiny store. 

Kenji straightened, staring at the other man in disbelief; wondering just what the hell an Itoshi brother was doing here in the middle of Minabe where he didn’t belong.

“You,” Kenji seethed, rolling up his sleeves. Somewhere behind him, you flinched and took a step back behind the still, as if bracing yourself for the worst. 

In your mind, you imagined Rin’s tantrum, the words he would yell at you and the attention drawn, once again, to your luckless love life in choosing him over Sae. 

But, you hadn’t expected Rin to stiffly bow at your brother, completely ignoring you as he mumbled, “I’m here to submit a job application. I saw you needed a staff member to help with menial tasks and I wanted to try my luck.” The sign tacked onto the front of the shop drew your eyes towards it, and you wondered how you hadn’t noticed it in the first place until Rin pointed it out. Bowing deeper, he ignored your soft gasp of bafflement, only focused on the one man who held the keys to his redemption. 

Without waiting for Kenji to reply, Rin bulldozed on to sell himself. 

“I’m strong. I have good stamina and my physique stands at 6 foot 3. I can help with rearranging jars and even with plum picking, if you would accept me.”

Whatever card your brother expected your ex-lover to play, it wasn’t this. He stood there, stupefied with his stocky shoulders slumped. For a split second, he glanced at you, and with a secret sibling code, he raised his eyebrows, as if to say—what’s going on? 

Your reply was a quick, sharp shake of your head. I don’t know. 

Rin waited while you both silently communicated, his intense teal stare never wavering from the dirty tiled floors. 

It wasn’t your decision to reject or hire any potential employees, so your brother was the one to call the shots. 

“What… why would you want this job?” Narrowing his eyes, Kenji spoke through gritted teeth when the obvious answer settled in. “If it’s just to play sweet by my sister, you can forget it. I’m never letting you get close to her.” 

You noticed Rin’s heavy shoulders tensing and anticipated a sharp reply or the promise of a brawl. Not lowered eyes and an almost regretful expression.

“I wanted to atone for my mistakes and this was the only way I knew how. I want to help your family, L/N-san.” 

It sounded strange to hear your ex-lover say your family name with such formality; it made you come to terms that he never held a perception of hierarchy when it came to you. 

You were always Y/N to him, just like he was just Rin to you.

“Fuck off, Itoshi,” your brother retorted hotly, and he picked up a broom, as if the measly stick could ward off a seasoned football player who was physically in his prime. “Get out of here. You’re just trying to get back into my nee-chan’s good graces. You shouldn’t be here.”

Kenji’s words rang around the small shop. The air-conditioner gurgled and whined; there was no other sound in this tight bubble of tension than all of your heavy breathing.

Rin’s eyes met yours for the first time since this morning when you rejected him on the beach with desperation. They were filled to the brim with such sorrow you had never seen the egotistical striker carry; a weight curving the ends of his lips down. 

“Can I at least speak to you before I leave? Please?” he added softly as an afterthought. 

Kenji glanced at you, prepared to fight your battles. But, you shook your head and took a deep breath. This was a conversation you needed to have with Rin alone; there was only so much you could do before your past came back with a vengeance, pleading for you to resolve the suffocating emotions so everyone could move on freely. 

Going around the still, you glanced back at Kenji with a tight smile. “Could we borrow the balcony for a bit?” 

Your brother looked like he would rather swallow nails than let stay in the same room with this bastard for one more second. He debated for a split second, and only when you nodded again, did he give his consent. 

“Fine.” Fishing in his overall’s pockets, he tossed you a single bronze key. To Rin, he fixed a glare. “If I hear one single complain from my nee-chan—”

“You have every right to beat me up,” he promised without prompting, catching both you and Kenji back with surprise. Rin’s conviction in his tone was what gave the slightest bit of confidence to Kenji that the pro-player wasn’t going to hurt you again once his back was turned. “I’ll take care of her,” Rin murmured softly, and the glimmer of gratitude on his lashline shouldn’t have made Kenji feel guilty, but it did. “You can trust me with that.”

His reassurance was a bit of an overkill, but it worked to ease your brother’s distaste. Kenji glanced at the ticking clock, and then back at your grim expression.

“Fifteen minutes. Anymore than that and I will personally throw you out of this store myself, Itoshi. You’re taking up my only employee’s precious time.” 

“I promise I’ll make this quick.” Rin’s serious expression reflected your exasperation back. You loved your brother, but sometimes, he could be a bit of a hardhead with his threats. 

“We’ll be down in a bit,” you reassured, and unlocked the door which led right to the very top floor. “Please help me man the counter?” 

The corner of your brother’s lip twitched, but he didn’t deny your request, taking your place behind the still with his back turned from the door. Counting down the minutes and showing enough grace to give you both the privacy you needed without his prying eyes.

You shot him an appreciative look, and gestured at Rin to follow you. He kept a respectable distance from you, hands in his pockets and surly expression locked on the linoleum floor to watch his steps. 

Bright sunlight battered down your head without mercy, and you shielded your eyes, staring out at the different tiled houses as far as your eye could see. In the distance was the beach where Rin had encountered you not even five hours ago, his knees digging into the sand, begging you for the forgiveness you could not give to him.

Now, he was back here, braving the storm of your family’s retribution and judgement to speak to you. 

What did that say about his character and intentions? 

If Rin really was guilty of the things he had done to you, he would’ve stayed away for the sake of his good conscience. But, here he was, looking at you like you hung the moon in the sky and the stars would disappear if he took his eyes off of you for a single second.

A cool breeze played with the ends of your hair, and it threw his bangs into a disarray. You almost reached forward and pushed them back, like you did the first time you had met Rin in his kitchen. But, like that very first time, you chickened out and kept your hands into fists by your side. 

“Thank you for your willingness to listen,” he broke the silence, and your heart plummeted right into your stomach when the redness rimming his eyes came into your focus. 

“Are you sleeping well?” you had no idea why you blurted out such a question. What Rin did in his spare time was none of your concern anymore. And yet… you couldn’t stop your curiosity on his wellbeing. 

He blinked and briefly glanced down at his sneakers. “Um, no. A-are you?” 

The question was meant to sound casually curious, but with Rin, nothing was ever casual. His intensity in hiding his true emotions was as palpable as your shaking hands. Neither of you could keep the truth from the other for too long, or play along with a game that had already decided the heartbroken loser.

You sighed, crossing your arms in front of your body, preferring to stare out at the sliver of calming blue in the distance than his haunted teal eyes. 

“Rin—”

“I’m sorry.” 

Just like that, with no fanfare of emotional blackmail. Itoshi Rin expressed his regret as eloquently as he could—with less words because he was a man of action. And right now, he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around you and hold you right above his heartbeat. 

Couldn’t you hear it from where you stood? It only thrummed the cadence of your name. You were written in his every breath from the second he saw you. 

Rin needed you to forgive him because he may actually go insane if you refused to show him any grace. 

His heartbeat was lodged right in his throat, and he stared at you with open want; wishing you would break the distance between the both of you and fall right back into his arms. 

But, you had every right to be angry with him. He was the root cause that destroyed your life; the virus which encroached your every breath and poisoned how the world saw you. 

Your reputation, your home and your job was all gone because of him. It would take a lifetime to atone for his mistakes, and Rin was ready to start now. He would lay himself right at your feet if you so much as asked him to. If you told him that you never wanted to see him again, he would fight to try and change your mind. 

Rin would fight for you, tooth and nail, because that was what a striker did. They would go to the ends of the earth for a goal, and you were one of his biggest aspirations to return to.

The trophies and medals and worldly recognition didn’t matter. 

All Itoshi Rin wanted was you in your pure entirety. 

“I’m sorry for what I did to you. I never meant to hurt you, Y/N. I promise, I—” his breath caught, and the truth spilled from his willing lips onto your unwilling ears that burned with the shame of remembering everything he said before. “—I was stupid and careless with my words. You don’t mean ‘nothing’ to me. You… you mean a lot to… to me…” 

He trailed off, the words right on the tip of his tongue. 

You are my everything, Y/N. I love you. 

It’s just three words. Rin was able to say it. He was able to share his entire soul with you if his mouth would just move. 

Come on, you coward. Tell her what she deserves to hear. Tell her what you’re really feeling. Just tell her—

“I love… I love…”

Like the weight of the world lifting from his shoulders, those words which carried a Universe of meaning were about to fall like the heaviest stars onto your lap. For you to marvel at, for you to hold, or for you to reject—Rin wasn’t sure what you would do. 

He never had a chance to tell you how he really felt before the scandal broke out, and he was paying the price for his big ego. He should’ve told you what you meant to him. He should’ve yelled out to the world how you made his heart sing and how you could make his stone cold soul come back to life with the promise of your new tomorrow.

There were a lot of things Rin should’ve done, and loving you was the only thing he should’ve done right.

You didn’t deserve the half-love he gave you or those harsh words which fractured your trust in him. 

You had made him feel safe when he couldn’t even stay still in his own skin. You were the one person who dared to dig deeper past his cold facade to bring out the boyish side of him begging for love. You patiently mended his broken pieces with your constant patience. You made him feel reassured enough to expose the soft underbelly of his emotions.

You had carried his baby. 

And what did he do?

He broke your heart. He made you feel like you never meant anything to him. He played a big part in destroying your entire life. He had caused you enough stress to lose the gift of love you both created together. 

You had appeared in his life like a ray of light through fractured glass on an ice-cold surface. Slowly, you chipped apart his frosty demeanour, and for the first time in his life, Rin felt like he belonged somewhere. That he belonged with someone. 

Rin had always felt like a stranger everywhere he went, and you were the first one to give him direction in his short life. He wasn’t nurtured by his own mother, barely tolerated by his own father and completely despised by his older brother. 

There were a few people he could count on his fingers who actually cared for him, and you were always at the forefront of his mind whenever that question arose. 

“Y/N,” the words he wanted to say came out as a hitched breath. “I love yo—”

“Rin, please,” your exhausted call of his name stopped him from spilling out those three words which he desperately hoped would change your mind. 

The look on your face was nothing short of pure heartbreak. Even in your dreary uniform, you shone like the brightest star, refracting off his foolish hopes and dreams for a reconciliation when you were still hurting with every breath.

Rin knew this. He knew he had to give you time. But, his time here with you was limited; half of him wanted to let you know the words which burdened heavily on his soul before he had to wait to see you again—if he would ever see you again. 

If you would ever allow him to see you again.

But, judging from your stance to your sombre expression, Rin sensed his chances were slim to none. The desperation clawed at his throat, resting somewhere underneath his ribcage and pulsing with only one sensation.

Hope. 

Rin desperately hoped you would take him back. All he ever wanted was you. 

But, you broke that hope with what you said next, and whether you knew it or not, you stole the last of his sanity when your words hit him like a truck. 

“Everything we did… for you, it was revenge. But, for me… it was love.”

Your watery smile cracked into painful fragments, rivers of anguish carving down your cheeks. His entire chest exploded into stabs of pain. Questions and uncertainties bounced in his brain like a broken record: should he reach out for you? Kiss you? Beg for your forgiveness again?

“I loved you, Itoshi Rin,” you finished your soliloquy quietly, unaware of the storm you set off in his soul, his frozen body desperately stuck in its eye. 

Say something you coward… change her mind… tell her you love her.

But, she loved me. 

Loved. Not love. 

Was he too late? 

Those pesky words clogged the back of his throat, and no matter how much he wanted to spill them out, they wouldn’t budge. Remaining stuck there to rot while he had to watch you slip away from him for the third time in his life. 

The smile you wore did not touch your glossy eyes, and you closed them momentarily, letting the sun burn behind your lids in this last enjoyment of the winter afternoon rays. You opened them to his red-rimmed eyes and quivering lips. You were going to devastate him again, he knew it, but he could not turn around and look away; could not peel his attention from the wreckage waiting to unfurl—your earth-wounding words that would shatter his hopes all over again.

“Even if you have broken my heart into pieces… I just want to say that… I would’ve loved to dance with you again in another lifetime.” 

Loved. Not love. 

You bowed your head, having unloaded all you needed to say and turned around for one final time. 

Rin took one step back, reeling from the surety of your words that were set in stone.

Loved. Not love. 

He really was too late. 

As if an invisible timer signalled the end of this meeting, you bowed your head, trying your best to ignore the devastation imploding on every inch of his expression out of the corner of your eye. 

“I should be going now, Rin,” you muttered softly. “I have to finish my shift… Please, get home safely.”

Home. 

He watched as you gave him a parting, thin smile, and with your arms still wrapped around your torso, you descended down the stairs. Back to your new life and reality without him.

Rin closed his eyes, warding off the intrusive thoughts begging him to just grab you and hold you tight in the seam of his embrace so you would never leave him again. But, he recognized that if he did, you would hate him forever. 

He needed to give you some space. And he needed to finally tell you what was haunting his mind and soul. 

He needed to tell you what he truly felt or else the peace he was desperately seeking would never find him.

It was stupid, but Rin had to try.

And he wouldn’t stop trying until he could finally unburden the secrets of his soul.

Until he could finally tell you how much he loved you without stuttering over his words and keeping them hostage on his traitorous tongue.

I love you. I love you.

Why were those words so hard to say? What could make it easier when he knew with every fibre of his soul that they were true?

Maybe I have to show it to her instead of saying it. 

And just like that, he conjured up a simple idea, one which would lead him right back to you.

But first, he had to win over your younger brother. 

Rin was relentless in pursuing you.

He had another day left in Minabe before his reservation at this shitty ryokan was up and Ego-san would call for a nationwide search to find his best striker. His paltry pile of clothes were packed—reluctantly, he might add—into neat squares in the corner, ready for him to stuff into his suitcase. Implicitly, Rin knew what the outcome of this crazy idea would be, and if his hunch was proven right, he had to leave—and quickly.

He took a look at himself in the floor length mirror, tousling his limp bangs into a semblance of life. Deciding the angle in which they flopped was better than the last, he inhaled deeply and set out to find you once more.

Along the way, Rin stopped to buy a bouquet of flowers. They were pathetic at best—a few limp stems poking from the damp wrapping—but, he knew you loved pink lotuses. They were your favourite; he remembered how you couldn’t keep your eyes off them when the both of you walked past an arrangement perched prettily on a console table during that brief respite on a balcony in Hokkaido. 

With flowers in hand, Rin put on his thickest face, prepared to trudge back into your little umeboshi shop and finally spill out the words lodging in the back of his throat ever since he first saw you in your ridiculously short miniskirt under the light of his mother’s kitchen.

But, when he disembarked from his car, he found the shop locked. Closed for the day.

One quick scan of the plaque hanging by the handle told him that Ume Sanka didn’t open on Tuesdays. 

A lump of coal seemed to settle in the pits of his stomach. He swallowed hard, and doubled back, about to scour the beach for you, when he noticed a woman staring at him from across the street.

“Hello!” she called out to him, in a friendly way most villagers had. She waved him over, her rheumy eyes shining with delight. 

“Oh, how handsome you are,” she cooed, and disregarding personal space, ruffled his hair. 

“Hey—”

Rin snapped his mouth shut when she laughed throatily. “Are you looking for the L/N girl? You must be a suitor from Tokyo trying to win her back. Ah, the old hags at my Go club were wondering for days—why she came back home all of the sudden. Poor girl. She looked so sad—you must’ve been the one to break her heart.”

Though the older woman meant to joke, Rin couldn’t help but feel a stab of guilt. Without a shred of his ego, he nodded.

“Do you know where I can find her?” 

Even to this relative stranger, his desperation was palpable. The older woman chuckled, and lifting one bony finger, pointed down the road. “Her family owns an orchard. Nasty business it was. I’m old enough to remember—her father, what a bastard. He left her mother and moved to some town in the middle of nowhere. The poor woman—bless her heart—tried to keep it together for her family, but she also hightailed it out of here the moment her boy turned two. Only granny was left to take care of the both of them.” 

Unaware of how this young man’s heart was leadened in both despair and grief for never knowing your story, she continued. “Eventually, the orchard was passed to the boy, and the girl—prettiest I’ve ever seen—went to the city to look for work. Honestly, everyone thought she would fail or come back home, belly swollen and heartbroken. But, she’s just fine. A little sad looking, but better than any of us expected.” 

Rin clenched the flowers tighter in his grip, his heart rate tripling. “Thank you. For telling me—and for showing me where she is.” He bowed to this random kind angel, and the older woman looked absolutely delighted. 

“Good luck finding her, young man. You look strong and sure. I think you could win her over.”

Rin sure hoped so, as well. Turning on his heel, he jogged down the cobblestone path, taking a left turn and finding himself in front of a fence. It was opened, and he pushed it slightly, stepping into plush greenery and tall, swaying plum trees. The air smelled ripe and sweet. Rin inhaled greedily, suddenly hyper aware of how this crisp scent was the same one lingering on your neck. 

In the throes of his thoughts, he didn’t sense someone approaching him.

“You. Again.” 

Rin never thought he would’ve been relieved to see your brother, but the second he heard Kenji’s voice, his shoulders sagged.

“Kenji-san. Is Y/N here?” Shamelessly, Rin looked at him eagerly. Kenji’s eyes fell on the bouquet in the other man’s grip. As much as he was debating if he should take this shovel and knock some common sense into this foolish athlete, Kenji hated to admit how much he admired Rin’s determination. 

Wiping droplets of sweat from his brow, he placed the shovel down and shoved his gloved hands into his thick, windbreaker. “You’re never going to give up until you see her, are you?”

Rin had the decency to look sheepish. “I’ll be leaving for France soon. I really would like to see her again.” 

Kenji’s expression was impassioned. “You’re going to get her hopes up. You should leave her alone if you know what’s good for you.”

But, Rin didn’t hear threats or ultimatums. He was only fixated on the goal of seeing you again. 

“Please, Kenji-san.” Despite being younger than the striker, Kenji took one step back, thrown off by the sincerity in that honorific. “You will be doing me a huge favour if I could see her again. I would like to at least pass her these flowers.” 

Kenji eyed the bouquet of lotuses again, remembering how you would hold a similar arrangement whenever you came back from the florist, all flushed and bright-eyed with satisfaction at your bargain. It was that single reminder of what happiness once looked like on your face which made Kenji reconsider.

“If she rejects you again, I have nothing more to say. She’s made her choice.” 

It wasn’t a blessing, but it wasn’t a curse either. Kenji was merely stating the truth. With his heart in his throat, Rin nodded, and Kenji eventually let him go. 

“She’s by the greenhouses. Just remember what I told you, Itoshi.”

Rin would never forget it; he would never forget your brother’s kindness in having this moment with you. 

“I will,” he mumbled, teal eyes filled to the brim with hope. “Thank you… Kenji-san.” 

The day was unusually cold. 

Even a heat pack in your coat pockets couldn’t keep the numb chill from reaching your fingers, and you shivered, biting back on the urge to leave for the warm comforts of your home and abandon your idea of bathing Reina’s jizo in such conditions.

But, you preserved. If you were this cold, imagine what she must be feeling? 

The woollen hat you knitted for her a month ago was placed lopsidedly on her dear, stony head. You chuckled a little, righting it when you sensed another presence behind you.

“Sorry, Kenji. I’m almost done, okay? I’ll help you rake up the roots later.”

Instead of your brother’s gruff tones, it was an unmistakable low rasp which sent a bolt of electricity down your spine.

“You shouldn’t be out here in the cold like this.” 

You gingerly stood up, ignoring the burn in your thighs from crouching down for almost an hour. The tiny stone statue was hidden from her father’s sight, your hands clawing over the small pail. Frightfully, you wondered how he would react once he saw her—the hatred he must feel towards you for keeping her existence a secret till the very last dire minute.  

Steadying your breathing, you exhaled, “How’d you find me?” 

He was holding a bouquet of lotuses, you noted in shock. The pink blooms looked starkly out of place in an orchard starting to wither from the impending winter. 

“Here.” With the grace of a little boy in church tasked to pass a lighted candle to a girl who always made him blush, Rin thrusted the bouquet underneath your nose. You set the pail down, taking it—unable to break the baffled silence. 

The tips of his ears were red, and Rin shifted his gaze to the ground, struggling to find the right words. “I asked your brother. He told me you’d be here.” Summoning his courage, he looked you in the eye. “I meant what I asked yesterday—I want to help with your store. Take me on as an employee.” 

You blinked. Your fingers were tingling, the cold settling into your bones. You wanted to stuff your hands into your coat pockets but they were curled around freezing stems. A part of you was unsure of where to look or how to best give light to the incredulity burning through your thoughts. “Don’t be silly. You have a career in football.” 

“So?” he argued back, a furrow in his brow. “I would give it all up.” For you. 

He didn’t add that last sentence. He didn’t have to. 

You shifted from one foot to another. “No.” Your tired eyes met his, and you refused to be bowed by his determination. “Go home, Rin.” Exhausted, defeated. You wished he would leave you alone in your exile. Passing him the bouquet back, you softened your rejection with a frail, “Go home—go back to Tokyo.”

Rin had no choice but to take the flowers back with an uncertain look; his shoulders drooped, his eyes falling back to the ground. A loose leaf was shaken out of the arrangement, floating to the floor. He was silent for a few moments, before he said: “Come back to Tokyo.” With me. 

Your heart squeezed. “And do what?” your whisper deepened the chasm between you two. 

He swallowed. “Stay with me. I can get you a job. PXG needs more hands and you can start fresh and—”

“Rin,” your eyes welled with tears. “Stop. You know I don’t belong in Tokyo.” I don’t belong with you. 

“Who said that?” he demanded, taking one step forward. “You belong there. You do.” You belong with me.

You shook your head, forcing a smile on your frozen lips. “I don’t,” your whisper sliced through his defiance, leaving him depleted of hope. “My life is here, with my brother and…” you hesitated, and his eyes flickered to the spot behind your calf. 

He had noticed your biggest secret, his expression folding open in quiet disbelief.

It was useless to hide the truth, and you stepped aside, showing him the jizo statue of a little girl with a peaceful, smiling face and closed eyes. The pail of water and your nervous demeanour suddenly made sense.

“Is that…?” 

His voice disappeared between incredulity and grief. Rin subconsciously took one step forward. You didn’t stop him and he took another until he was standing a foot away from you, absorbed in the tiny details of this stone statue believed to guide an unborn baby’s spirit and protect them in the afterlife. Assuming responsibility for the parents who had failed her in the real world. 

The little cap you had made for her, the mittens that adorned her hands. Rin felt the lump in his throat thicken. 

You were stricken with grief, nodding. Rin looked to you, and the anguish written on his face mirrored your own deep sorrow. 

The both of you stared at the little stone statue—the baby girl conceived into the world betrayed by your own body and his deception. 

Rin’s shoulders curved forward, as if to curl within his own self-hatred. Your haunted gaze touched the jizo, and you slowly got onto the ground, ignoring the cold to tuck your legs into a demure, side sitting position. Inviting him to join you with a simple nod. He sat next to you, cross-legged, fingers an inch away from your own. 

Without looking to you for permission, Rin set the shunned bouquet right in front of her stony smile; all of his overwhelming love and your crippling regret with nowhere to go—except to a little girl who was painfully wanted by both her star-crossed parents only after she no longer existed.  

You yearned to take his hand, hold it and reassure yourself that everything was okay. But, at the last second of your crumbling willpower, you shifted your hand further from his, rocking back. 

Rin’s silence stretched on. 

Above you, the trees rustled in the wind, branches clacking together. You began to shiver, and before you could protest, Rin’s arm came to wrap around you. Sharing his body heat together with you. Despite your reservations, you rested your head on his shoulder, letting yourself be weak in this instance and cave into his embrace. 

No words were shared. Both of your breaths were stuttered, and you swore you felt a tear trickle into your hair. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely. “I know you don’t trust me, but I just want you to know… not a day goes by that I don’t regret everything.” 

His watery eyes traced the statue’s serene face. You didn’t absolve him of his monstrosities, but neither did you want this moment to be over. So, you sighed brokenly and admitted the first thing that came into mind. 

“I dream of her all the time, you know.” 

His silence welcomed you to spill your sorrowful secrets into his waiting shoulder. “She’s always smiling. Laughing. She’s beautiful.”

Rin recalled the dream he had on the day where everything had gone wrong; of a little girl with sparkling teal eyes and an infectious giggle. He bowed his head forward, lips pressed into your hair. “I dreamt of her, too. Tiny. With my dark hair and eyes. And your smile.” 

“Your eyes,” you echoed uselessly. “My smile.” 

He kissed your temple again. “So beautiful.” 

You fell into a thick disquiet. Rin rubbed your arm, giving you more of his heat. 

“You should go back to Tokyo,” you started, squeezing your eyes shut and refusing to submit to the sobbing voice in the back of your mind begging for him to stay. “It’s where you belong.” When Rin didn’t say a single word, you continued. “Go to France. Win the World Cup. Be happy, Rin. Forget about everything that happened and start anew.” 

Forget about me. 

You didn’t add that last sentence. You didn’t have to. 

“I don’t want to forget everything,” he began in a quiet voice, staring at the stone effigy of his lost daughter. “I don’t want to forget her.” Or, you. 

“You won’t,” you replied simply, with more surety than he could’ve imagined. “She’s with us. Always.” Before you could stop yourself, you gently plucked one mitten from the statue’s hand and pressed it into his larger palm. “Take this. It’ll remind you of her.” And hopefully, me. 

Rin shook his head, about to argue when you echoed an empty laugh. “I’ll make her a new one. I won’t leave her fingers cold—don’t worry.” This time, he couldn’t fight back the tears welling in his eyes, pressing the woven mit into his jacket pocket, wishing he could say something—anything—to change your mind.

But, he didn’t. He had said all he had to say. 

Rin removed his arm and got back to his feet. Your face was hidden by your hair when you stood up, too. He scanned the area, looked back at the statue and then to you. 

You were smiling, haunted and broken, but smiling, nonetheless. Even when you had suffered the most—even when you had left behind everything you held dear and lived a half-life in this tiny village. You still smiled, and for that, Itoshi Rin would never forgive himself. 

“I’ll wait for you,” he blurted out. Your smile slipped and he hastened his words. “You need time, I understand. I can wait for a few years. Or, a year, if you want to speed things up.” 

His lame attempt at a joke made you chuckle weakly. “Rin—”

“I’m not giving up on us,” he said quietly. Your wide eyes latched onto him, whether with fear or admiration, he did not know. “It will take a lot to get me to forget you, L/N Y/N. I hope you know that.” 

He didn’t give you a chance to destroy his hopes. Rin walked away, head bent low and hands in his pockets, fiddling with the tiny mitten you had gifted him. 

Rin tightened his grip on the piece of cloth. There were just some things a person can never push out of their mind no matter how hard they tried. It would linger in their memories, burying into their subconscious. Embedded in their every breath and thought. Like a comet. 

You were a comet in his short life, brilliant and streaking his sky with every shade of colour, Rin feared that if he took his eyes off you, his life would go back to black and white. 

The young man meant what he said. 

He could never forget you.

Not ever in his lifetime.

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, translate and share to other sites.

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: BIG SMUT - fingering, PinV, essentially just a chapter of p*rn

Chapter Word Count: 2997

—-MDNI—-

A/N: basically just a whole chapter of smut. Hope it doesn’t suck ass as it’s 2am an I’ve been trying to proof read for half an hour but fuck knows what I’ve just written. But yeah same as always pls let me know of any errors as I am the only one who proof reads this shit.

——————————————————————

Please read the below first:

Prologue Chapter 1

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Chapter 8 pt. 1

Chapter 8 pt. 2

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

I laid in bed staring at the ceiling, sleep failing to whisk me away. I tossed and turned for several hours; kicking the covers off in frustration before pulling them up to my chin, then kicking them off again before pulling them back up - repeating this horrid cycle until two in the morning. Thoughts kept racing through my mind and I couldn’t get the image of Dean looking at me with those dark lustful eyes out of my head. The way he watched me move around Sam, witnessing how I caressed his younger brother and made him squirm where he sat. I could only dream of what was going through his mind in that moment - of what I hoped he was thinking. Heat prickled my skin and bubbled in the pit of my stomach as I remembered my daydream from earlier; Dean fucking me into his mattress as he held my hips and sought nothing but his own pleasure. A groan left my lips as I threw my covers off and sat up, rubbing my temples in a weak attempt to dismiss my attraction to the obnoxious man wreaking havoc in my mind. I placed my feet on the cold floor and stood up, deciding a glass of cold water was the best remedy for whatever it was that I was feeling. I rubbed my eyes as I padded towards my bedroom door, tugging on the old T-shirt that barely covered my behind. I grasped the handle and opened the door, jumping in surprise at the sight of Dean leaving his room. A startled noise left my lips as I placed a hand on my chest, not expecting to see him standing there.

“Shit, Dean, you scared the crap out of me.” In response Dean mumbled a half hearted apology, taking a step closer to me.

“What are you doing up? It’s late, you should be in bed.”

“What are you, my dad?” I scoffed, not sure how to feel about the reprimanding. He held his hands up in defence, only bowing his head slightly, not saying anything else. I sighed.

“I just can’t sleep; I’ve been tossing and turning for hours but no luck. I was just on my way to get a glass of water.”

“You didn’t think to put any more clothes on?” He asked, and it looked like he was trying desperately not to look me up and down as his eyes wouldn’t leave mine.

“I’m sorry - how many people do you run into at TWO AM? I wasn’t expecting company,” I tugged more on the bottom of my T-shirt, trying harder to cover up what little dignity I had left in front of Dean Winchester. All of a sudden we were stood in total silence, neither of us knowing what to say as we now avoided eye contact and I played with the hem on my shirt. We stayed like this for a few awkward moments before I opened my mouth to say something right as Dean decided to speak.

“I can’t get you out of my head, (Y/n).”

My eyes snapped up to meet his, and there was an almost pained look about his face that was hard to place in the dim lighting. My mouth opened and closed a few times, not knowing what words to pick. Luckily for me, Dean kept talking.

“That shit you pulled earlier - the way you… danced… for Sam - made me genuinely jealous of my own brother. I mean come on, we’ve already done the deed, why didn’t you pick me?”

“Because how would you have known how good I was if you couldn’t see everything?”

He thought for a second before tilting his head and raising his eyebrows in agreement.

“You’ve got me there.”

“I know what I’m doing, Winchester.”

“You sure do sweetheart,” Dean stepped closer to me, closing the already short distance between us with those forest-green eyes not leaving mine. Our chests were almost touching as his gaze started flicking between my eyes and my lips. I watched as his own lips parted and he chewed on his bottom lip as if deep in thought, his eyes growing darker by the second. My heart started to race and the atmosphere turned thick. What was he thinking about? Why did he have to look at me the way he did - like he wanted to devour me - the intensity of his gaze increasing by the second and making me warm both inside and out. Not another thought ran through my mind when my back thumped against my bedroom door and Deans lips descended on my own - hot and hurried. His large arms circled my waist, rough palms caressing every inch of my back, waist and ass like he was searching for the best place to grip onto - to dig his fingers into my soft skin. I pulled on his hair, bringing his face and body closer to mine, wanting to feel every muscled inch of him press against me.

I released one hand from his hair and reached back, fumbling around the door looking for the handle, soon finding it and twisting. The door swung open and we stumbled in, too wrapped up in every fibre of each other to pay much attention to anything else. Dean kicked the door closed, reluctant to release me from his grasp and his lips still on mine as he hastily backed me towards my bed; my knees hitting the mattress and I tumbled down onto my back, pulling him with me. He gripped me with one strong arm and lifted me further up the bed so I was in a more comfortable position - my head now resting on the pillow and my hair fanning around me. His lips were so soft on mine, his stubble occasionally scratching my chin when his lips parted further and his tongue hesitantly skimmed mine. The action was slow, as if he was testing the waters. I couldn’t stop the moan from leaving my lips at the feeling of him in my mouth and the sheer intimacy of the action, wrapping my arms over his shoulders and surrendering my mouth to him. I subconsciously pulled him closer, my knees parting without a second thought and his hips dipped down, allowing me to feel every well-sculpted muscle in his abdomen and thighs - including the hardness growing in those loose pyjama pants. The ever so familiar sensation of my own arousal began brewing like a storm; twisting in the pit of my stomach with excitement and anticipation. Electric jolts shot through me every time he pressed into my most sensitive area, making my legs twitch involuntarily as breathy gasps escaped me. His mouth quickly left mine and trailed down my throat before he sat up, pulling himself from my grasp. His evergreen eyes, black with desire that pierced into mine with white hot lust held my gaze, and I fought to stop my eyes rolling into the back of my head from the way he looked at me. Without missing a beat he pulled his black T-shirt over his head and threw it to the floor, holding himself above me as I let myself admire him - trailing my gaze over every inch of exposed skin, lingering on his tattoo. I reached up and traced my fingers over it, feeling him shiver and groan at my gentle touch, his head dropping into the crook of my neck. With one hand he reached down, those rough fingers delicately slipping into my underwear and circling that sensitive button, making my legs twitch even more than before. He went around and around, tauntingly avoiding contact with it before a desperate whimper slipped from my lips. He smirked like the Devil himself before he finally indulged me, pressing his fingertips expertly to the tender mound, undoing me in a way that I’ve never been undone before. He leaned down as his ministrations continued, pressing soft kisses to my moaning lips. My head tilted back into my pillow as that recognisable feeling in the pit of my stomach began to twist tighter and tighter, my nails digging into Deans shoulders, leaving behind little crescent moon-shaped indents in his skin. My breathing increased and I was right on the edge of bliss when out of nowhere he stopped, the pleasure disappearing in an instant. However before I even had a chance to complain he’d slid two thick fingers inside me with ease, drawing a gasp from my chest. He pumped in and out a few times, teasingly pressing on the hidden cushion of over-sensitive flesh that was hidden deep inside, making me writhe underneath him. It wasn’t hidden to Dean though, no, he knew EXACTLY what he was looking for. Once again this pleasure was short lived as he pulled his fingers out, leaving me cold and empty on the inside. On the outside however I was red hot as I watched the older Winchester stick his fingers in his mouth, circling his tongue around them as he sucked my essence from his digits, not missing a single drop. My heart flipped when he spoke in a low, husky voice.

“Delicious - just like last time.”

Heat spread like wildfire over my cheeks as I blushed furiously, not knowing how to deal with the sexual expertise of this incredibly objectionable man. He placed his hands on my thighs, my knees almost gripping his hips in anticipation.

“Are you ready princess?” He asked, his voice smooth and frustratingly calm, except for his chest rising and falling rapidly with supposedly eager breaths.

“Yes- Dean please-”

In a single beat he pulled himself out of his pants and slid inside me with ease, stretching me as he made every inch disappear. My eyes rolled and my mouth was agape, a pornstar-grade moan unintentionally leaving my lips and making Dean quiver.

“Fuck- (Y/n) don’t squeeze me like that darlin or I won’t last long…” he breathed out, all calmness from his voice now gone.

“I-I’m not doing anything- I swear,” I almost squeak out as he lowers himself over me again, one hand dropping next to my head to support himself as the other gripped my thigh pulling it around him. It was his turn for his eyes to roll.

“Lord have mercy…” he muttered out under his breath, slowly moving his hips, thrusting in and out, in and out, over and over and over again. He was ever so gentle at first, but that soon changed when his own pleasure was there to be chased and gentle thrusting turned to mind-melting pounding. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, his mouth occasionally pressing into the curve of my neck as my lips rested near his ear, my soft moans going straight to his brain. I started to feel sweat pepper his skin, his breathing heavy as his motions became even more rapid and uneven. He was right - he wouldn’t last long. I unwound my arms and placed my palms on his chest and pushed, taking him by surprise. He stopped his pounding and I could feel him flex inside me, bringing a gasp from my lips before I could get my words out. I refocused, his attention on me unwavering.

“Get on your back.”

I didn’t have to tell him twice as he flipped over with ease, pulling out of me for a second and taking my spot on the bed. I flung my leg over him and lowered myself down on him with zero hesitation, hating the cold feeling of emptiness. Deans hands worked on their own as they grabbed the soft flesh on my thighs, his fingers digging in as he groaned in pleasure. His head went back in the pillow, his eyes shut and jaw slack as I started to move, rocking back and forth, his hands softly guiding me. My fingers pushed into his chest as I steadied myself, and he seemed unphased by my weight in his state of ecstasy. I moaned, unable to stop myself from chasing my own pleasure as I looked down at him, loving that I was the one making him lose his mind in bliss. He opened his eyes, lids still hooded as he gazed up, watching me ride him like there was no tomorrow. For a moment his hands left my thighs, reaching up and tugging on the old T-shirt I was wearing.

“Take this shit off,” he growled, helping me discard the item. I lifted it over my head and tossed it to the floor with his garment, dishevelling my hair in the process.

“Better?” I asked, now completely bare to his burning gaze.

“Fuck yes,” he breathed, hands sliding up my stomach to caress the underside of my breasts, sliding a thumb over the silky smooth skin as his palms rested on my ribs. I rocked against him harder, feeling my own wetness on my thighs and mixing with my sweat. In this position it was like his cock was in my throat - he felt so deep, so engulfed by me I felt I could never let him go. I’d never felt so full in my life, it was borderline uncomfortable but I couldn’t get enough - it was intoxicating. HE was intoxicating. The smell of leather and gunpowder on his skin, the taste of beer on his lips and the silky smooth scars that dotted his otherwise perfect body was a drug in itself. I don’t even know if I truly hated him. Especially when he was here giving me the best sex of my life. I’d fuck this mans brains out everyday if I could. If he’d let me.

It didn’t take long for my impending climax to appear on the horizon. It bubbled, almost boiling as I rocked harder, faster, more desperately than before, making the bed creak and the headboard knock against the wall. Deans grip on my ass was assisting my motions as I started to lose control over the sounds tumbling from my lips - the name.

Dean.

I could see the desperation seeping into him as his rhythm started faltering, throwing me off for a split second before we found unison again. My nails dug into his chest once more, Dean totally unphased and too overwhelmed with pleasure to even care. My own pleasure turned to Earth shattering ecstasy as the buildup dropped and the cord snapped - wave, after wave, after wave of euphoria crashed around me, making my eyes roll and toes curl; legs trembling either side of Dean as I moaned his name - temporarily forgetting all other words. Clenching around Dean, it sent shockwaves through him that brought him to his own release, his grip painful on my delicate skin as he came undone with my name on his lips. I instantly felt warmth seep down the inside of my thigh, and the thought of being completely filled to the brim by him made my heart flutter. Dean trembled beneath me, both of us slowing down as we came down from our synchronised highs. After a few quiet moments of nothing but heavy breathing, he was the first to speak up.

“Ahh fuck, (Y/n)…. What the fuck was that?” He ran a hand through his hair.

I tilted my head in confusion.

“Excuse me?”

“THAT,” he said pausing to catch his breath, looking up at me with eyes as black as coal, “was one of the most intense moments of my life,” he propped himself up onto his elbows so we were now almost eye to eye. I couldn’t help but giggle.

“I hope that’s a good thing?”

“Damn right.”

We stared at each other, clarity returning through the sexual fog, and strangely, regret was nowhere to be found. Deans tongue darted out and wet his lips, and I gnawed on my bottom lip almost nervously. He was still here. Unmoving. Why didn’t he leave?

Why didn’t I WANT him to leave?

We sat in peaceful silence as I stayed on his lap, Dean making no effort to move even though he had started to soften inside me, letting the mess leak out and drip down my thighs and over his hips. I’d have to change the bedsheets before sleeping. Deans eyes were returning to their usual mossy green, his gaze gentle on my figure for the first time since we’d met.

“I should probably get off - let you get back to your room,” I said, my eyes not leaving his, my tone lacking.

“Yeah… I should really let you sleep…” Deans voice was the same as mine. We looked at each other for a few more minutes before we both leaned forwards, Deans fingers threading ever so gently through my hair and I placed my hands on his bare chest, feeling his heartbeat thrum beneath my fingertips. His lips were as soft as silk as they pressed on mine - a great contrast to the bruising make out session earlier. He kissed me with a tenderness I didn’t know he could muster, and it made my heart flutter something crazy. His mouth moved on mine, as soft and warm as a summers breeze and I didn’t want it to end. Eventually he pulled away, a smile on his lips.

“Sweetheart you really need to sleep,” his voice held a kindness I’m sure wasn’t for me.

“I…umm…” I paused and looked away, fighting with myself about whether I should even say what’s in my mind. I decided to be bold, fighting the blush rising from deep within.

“Dean, I don’t want you to go…”

He stared at me, and for the first time ever a pink glow adorned his masculine features. He was still. Very still, and I was starting to scold myself for being weird and out of character. It didn’t take much longer for him to reply.

“Well let's get you cleaned up and head to my room - we can sort your sheets out in the morning.”

——————————————————————

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[fanaticsnail]

Love you, Doc

Hey Doc Masterlist

Word Count: 4,400

Synopsis: Eustass Kid has come down with the non-life threatening ailment known as "the common cold." It is your job to care for him, no matter who orders you to do so.

Themes: Kid Pirates x gn!reader, platonic fic, you are the doctor of the Kid Pirates, you have been injured in the leg a few chapters ago by a person from your past, platonic love confessions, swearing, cuddling, Kid is sick, teasing, aged wound care, remedial massage, medicine taking, platonic kisses, swearing.

Notes: Shout out to @thenotsofantasticlifestory for being an absolute darling, listening to my rambles, and steering me into the right direction. Love you lots, Sto.

“Hey Doc,” a flash of a high, blonde ponytail flicks through the threshold from the doorframe, “You busy?” Placing down your medical journal you ordered, authored by a traveling doctor stationed on Drum Island, you turn towards Hop and offer her a two finger salute.

“Not if something’s broken, bleeding, or on fire,” you shrug nonchalantly while giving her a once over with your pointed gaze, “Didn’t go too hard sparring with Hip again, did you? Nothing sprained?” 

“No, no, nothin’ like that! I, uh-...” she trailed off, clutching the back of her neck while avoiding your gaze. Furrowing your brows, you turn your body fully towards her while remaining seated on your rotating swivel chair. 

“Spit it out, Hop. What do you need?” While your question was more tonally a statement punctuating your order, you still assumed your position of duty of care for your crew. She slouched her shoulders, hanging her head and gesturing a single pointed finger out to the side. 

“Cap’n needs you,” she whispered, barely audible. Feeling a little proud for a moment, you lean forward and raise your hand up to cup the shell of your left ear. 

“What was that, sweetheart? Come again?” you offer with a cocky smirk. The tall, blonde pouts while sucking in a large breath through her nose. Arching her back to full stature, she points more firmly in the direction of Kid’s quarters with her lips curled back in a soft snarl.

“The captain needs you, or,” she removes her hand from its outstretched position and crosses her arms over her chest, “Technically speaking: Heat told me to tell you that, Wire told him that he overheard Killer having an argument with the Captain about needing medical attention. Satisfied?” She offered the last part with a huffy taunt, prompting you to grin back at her. 

“Not for years,” you tease her, gesturing for her to come a little closer to your position sitting at your desk, “Come on, help me up. Leg’s still not the same since the spear incident.” You place down the book and 

Rolling her eyes, she casually strolled over towards you and wove herself beneath your arm. With one hand around your waist, the other clutching your wrist, she raised you to your feet and prompted you to let out a soft hiss at the impact of the elevation. The injury to your leg had only begun to crust over, the ooze from the coarse platelets itching at the skin. Bandages only did so much to ease the pressure from the wounds to the muscles, but you tried your best to push it aside to tend to the needs of your captain and your crew.

“Ah, shit,” you laughed through the pain, feeling the prickle of pins and needles pooling to your foot after having your leg elevated for so long beneath the desk. Hop chuckled along with you, giving your hip a gentle pinch while aiding you to stand properly. Without even finding the need to open your mouth, she wordlessly handed you the cane Kid fashioned for you to balance on. 

“Thanks, Hop,” you offered her a half-smile, removing yourself from her grip and looking to your desk. Scrunching up your nose briefly, you arch your brow up at her. 

“Did Wire tell Heat to tell you what type of medical attention he overheard the captain arguing with Killer about?” you offer her a sly smile, reaching for your satchel below your drawers, “Or am I going into this blind like the Reck incident a couple months ago?” 

“Honestly, I have no idea. Heat told me nothing,” she overemphasized her words by swiping her right hand in front of her chest. You shook your head, snorting out a soft laugh while throwing the loop of your satchel over your shoulder. 

Taking a moment to pause, you took a quick glance back at the medical journal and rolled over in your mind the last chapter of wound care and advanced treatment. Internally arguing with yourself for under a second, you decided to take a vial of oil extract from a medicinal plant to promote healing treatment for aged wounds and scars. If your captain was down with something, he might be more pliant in allowing you to experiment with your newfound knowledge. If not, there was always Killer who would always allow you a go at him with medicinal practicing.

“Alright,” you give her a soft nod, “Thanks again, Hop. I’ll go see to him now. Go back to whatever you were doing, or hide here to avoid duties. I don’t mind, just don’t touch the instruments.”

“Aye, Doc,” she offered you a soft salute, plopping herself down on your elevated bay bed and flicking through one of your medical magazines. You chuckle at her, shaking your head at the ease she made herself at home in your office, before hobbling your way down the hallway towards the steps up to Kid’s quarters. 

Slowly bracing yourself on the wooden wall, you took your time walking up the steps to not overdo your injury. While the Kid Pirates were more inclined to ignore the roaring ache you felt lingering beneath your skin, you wanted this to heal properly: taking your own advice, no matter how much you fought the urge not to. The Captain and the three commanders worked hard to save your leg, especially Heat, and you didn’t want to do wrong by them by having to lose it if you didn’t care enough for yourself. 

As soon as you made it up the last step, you heard a large rukkus and commotion from behind the door. Elevated voices, spluttered coughs, and mucusy sniffles ricocheted through the wooden walls and down the lengthy corridor. 

“I don't-,” the voice of your captain crackled, his usual tone more nasally than his usual cadence, “-And then I-!”

“-Get them, I swear, Captain. Doc needs to come and see you,” Killer’s soothing tone was more harsh than it usually was. It was unlike Kid and Killer to be fighting like this, especially for so long given the time it took to communicate it back to you. 

Exhaling more than what you had prepared for yourself, you hang your head while mentally preparing to deliver him his treatment of choice. Considering it was not that long ago that you, yourself, had suffered with this sort of affliction, you knew you would be able to endure being in the same room as your captain without much risk to yourself. Killer wore a mask, likely shielding him from catching the most of the illness, much to your joy. 

This could only mean one thing, and one thing only. Eustass “Captain” Kid had the non-life-threatening ailment known as: the common cold. 

With a lengthy inhale, you straightened your spine and rolled your neck around on your shoulders. With several pops of bone and muscle, you shrugged off the last of your inhibitions and readied yourself for an afternoon of treating your captain of his illness. Thanking your prior preparation of including several bottles of various tonics and honeyed anti-inflammatories, you brought your knuckles to the door and rapped on the wooden surface. 

You couldn't fight back the smile that rose upon hearing a repetition of “Please be Doc, please be Doc, please be Doc,” from the blonde first-mate. The door creaked open in a harsh tug, halting at three inches as the blue and white mask of Killer peeked through the small crack. 

“Oh, thank fuck,” Killer exhaled, his shoulders falling in a large slouch, “Please, in. In, in, in,” he ushered you inside Kid’s quarters with a hand floundering on your shoulders. You grimaced as you balanced out your weight on your injured leg, hobbling to adjust to a comfortable stature. Killer took a minute to insure you were safely tucked inside Kid's quarters before using a spurt of energy to flee from the room with a sheepish air to his actions. 

“He's all yours, Doc,” the jovial, teasing tone of the first mate cut through the air and prompted you to almost growl as Killer closed the door behind himself. Staring at the chipped paint of the wooden door, you heard a spluttering cough from the corner of your captain's quarters. Far away from the coziness of his bed, you turned to view the hulking figure of your captain hunched over his desk, his shoulders donning his large duvet as he scratched etchings onto a blank sheet of pressed paper. 

“Captain?” you slowly asked, turning away from the door and stepping towards his desk, “Captain, are you alright?” 

“Go away,” the nasally voice growled from beneath the shroud. His right arm continued to roll the utensils within his digits and scratch inked blots into the pages. “M’working. Go do doctor things, Doc. Find someone else to torment.” 

Rolling your eyes, you saunter over to the desk and peer over his shoulder. The page was littered with sharp lines of various sizes, neat notations within the marines depicting metallic elements on the periodic table, and heat temperatures for soldering purposes. You shake your head and slowly reach over your captain's shoulders, perching your hands over the duvet and giving the taut muscles a gentle squeeze. 

“I am not here to torment you, Cap,” you confess to him, tugging at his shoulders until his broad torso slunk against your chest. He pressed his head back against your chest, slowly leaning to the side and peering from the corner of his eye up at you. “I'm here to look after you.” You smile sweetly down at him, reaching up and smoothing your digits over his fluffy red hair. 

Eustass Kid’s bottom lip protruded, his eyelids swollen and puffy, and nostrils peeling skin from the swollen corners of his nose. His eyes began to water as he sniffed back another blocked rumble of air through what could manage to pass through his nose. 

“Do you want me to look after you, Captain?” you ask, truthfully knowing the answer he was desperately pleading with his eyes, but wanting him to speak it anyway. Taking a deep inhale through his raspy, crackling throat, Eustass Kid brayed out his answer in a forlorn whine. 

“Ye-es,” he wailed, leaning fully into your arms and closing his eyes. “I can't breathe, my mind is foggy, I can't lay down without my fuckin’ nose dripping all over the place, and I can't fuckin’ sleep while that's the only thing I really want to do. I haven't slept in three fuckin’ days.” The floodgates of Eustass Kid’s needs were broken like a dam, each word rolling over the other as you ushered him over to his large bed. Gently prying his duvet from his shoulders, you guided him to his bed while he continued to whine hoarsely. 

“My throat feels like I've swallowed glass, my eyes won't stop leaking, my ears keep popping and crackling, and there's this infernal ringing going on like a mosquito is trapped in my eardrum.” You ushered him to sit on his bed, propping him into a reclined position with his right arm propped over his stomach with a pillow beneath it, and his left stump elevated. Finding more pillows in his personal linen cupboard, you stuffed a few more up to hold him comfortably upright before tucking the duvet over his waist. 

“Sounds like you've got it bad, Cap,” you nodded sympathetically, locating your bag and popping the seal, “Tinnitus in which ear, hm? Left or right?” 

“Left, I think. It's like a buzz at this stage, don't pay it any mind,” he nodded, feeling the weight of his eyes falling like anchors over his glassy orbs. “What's really fuckin’ bad is my arm. It feels like it's still there, and it's like fire in my skin,” he looked down at his missing left arm with pain written on his features, “I can feel my hand gripping hard, like I can't let go of something important. S’always shit when I get sick, and this time it's just tauntin’ me.” 

You sigh empathetically, looking briefly down at your still healing leg before you continued to ready a cocktail of medication for your captain. Antibiotics, probiotics, pain relief, blood thinners, muscle relaxants, and sleep aid was calculated and lumped in according to his height to weight distribution, and adjusted for more comfort to his high pain tolerance. Usually, you would make fun of him for acting like this, but this vulnerability had you feeling closer to your captain than ever. You hastily clutched the vial you packed into your satchel within your palm before walking with your knees towards the reclined posture of the large red-head. 

“Take these with some water. I know it's shit, and it'll hurt your throat, but I'll get Killer to make you some lemon and honey tea to aid with the sting,” you nodded, reaching up your hand to his lips and popping the assortment of pills within his painted lips. Watching as he held them in his mouth briefly, you reached the top of his drawers for the glass of water you knew Killer put there a few hours ago and drew it up to Kid’s lips. He eagerly gulped down the contents, wincing at the hard pills lodging in his raw throat, before swallowing them down obediently. 

“You'll start to feel better in about ten minutes,” you nod to him, placing the water glass on the bench top beside the bed, “And while we wait, I'm going to see what I can do about your arm.” Reaching into your pocket, you uncorked the vial and poured a generous amount of oiled liquid into the center of your palm. Rolling your hands together, you warmed the liquid with the heat of your skin before drawing it towards the scarred left arm of your captain. 

“Keen for me to experiment a bit with your skin?” you quirked at him, hovering above and awaiting consent from the hulking figure of your captain. 

“You said you're gonna take care o’ me,” he grumbled, huffing and pouting like a petulant child, “So hurry up and do it already. I fuckin’ hate feeling like this, and I just-... I just-...” His eyes welled up, prompting him to turn to the side and hide his face from you, “...I just don't want to be in charge anymore. I can't be in charge anymore. I feel like absolute dog shit, and I just-... I need help sometimes.” He turned his orange eyes up at you, begging within his rounded orbs, “Please, Doc? Just make it stop? Please?”

Immediately pressing your hands to his arm, you give his muscles a constricting grip and roll the flesh beneath your digits. 

“Tense up with me,” you order him, squeezing his bicep with the intentional strength in a few key areas, “And then release.” You relaxed your grip on his arm, holding the grip over his flesh and thumbing along the veins. As he tensed his muscle, you tighten your grip, “Now hold it,” you nod, your hands shuddering beneath your strength, “And release.” 

You coached him through this method a few more times, rolling his skin between your hands and feeling the ripped and repaired muscles beneath his skin. Moving up your eyes, you focus on Eustass Kid’s face as it contorted in agony. The way he sucked in his lips and grit his teeth matched the telltale signs of him trying not to cry. 

Only ever seeing this expression on him once before, you decided to use a different method of care. 

“Doing so well, sweetheart,” you bore your fingers into his solid flesh, coating each morsel with the oil and sculpting his pain away with circular motions, “You are so brave, Kid. You bare the weight of our large crew, you have done so much for everyone. Captain I-.” Your words caught in your throat, feeling the tension in his muscles pull taught as you held firmly against his arm. 

“Say it. Whatever it is. Please, Doc,” Kid nodded, fighting back through the pain and urging you along. While the two of you were distracted by focussing attention on Eustass Kid’s pain, you remained ignorant of the door opening and closing behind the blonde-haired first mate reentering the room. 

You inhaled a deep breath, humbling yourself and giving him something truthful to focus on rather than gritting his teeth through the praise he often craved. 

“Captain, I'm proud to serve under you,” you utter to him, gently rolling your digits over the base of his healed scarring. Thumbing over the stump, you focus your eyes on his flesh, “We are all proud of you. I-...” You halted your motion, closing your eyes and lighting up your soft smile on your lips, “...I have loved every minute of serving you as your doctor, regardless of what I say most of the time. I love you, Captain.” 

Looking at the mess of oozing oils over his skin, you feel his right hand gently reach up to clasp your forearm. 

As Kid made to open his lips, using his words to mirror your admiration back at you, his mind did not match what curled on his tongue. 

“Hah! You love me? Pfft, what a fuckin’ softie, Doc,” he slunk back against the pillows once more, his eyelids growing heavy and weighted beneath the growing intensity of the medication. “You're a little shit most of the time. A real pain in my ass, and you ruin a lot of my projects and fun by banning them. Shoulda kicked you off the crew years ago.” 

Your jaw slackened, eyes widening as your brows furrowed beneath the weight of his words. Just as you were about to bark back a witty retort of your own, he silenced you by lazily rolling your name over his palate. 

“But I fuckin’ love you,” he confessed in a breathy tone, a dopey smile tugging up his face, “Take’n such good care o’ us. Keepin’ me in line when I start with the bullshit. Always bein’ nice, in your own sadistic way.” He gave your hand two warm taps before the medication pulled him down in a warm recline. 

“I love you so damn much, Doc. I need you to know that,” his tone grew slower, his yawn tugging his lips up and his voice muffled beneath the wide inhale, “I love you.” His head lulled to the side, his lips parting as sleep finally caught up with him. His breaths came out in rattled breaths, saliva mixing with mucussy underlay of his firey illness. 

“And just like that, you're out like a light,” you chuckle to yourself, cradling his left bicep and laying it down beside him. Gently tucking in his duvet over his broad torso, alongside removing the pillow from his stomach, you smooth over the plush material and secure the captain beneath the shroud. Giving a brief pause, your eyes raked over his face and noticed his breathing was relaxing with each inhale. 

“Rest well, sir,” you nodded, slowly inching yourself off the bed and wincing through the shooting pain up your leg. Just as you rose to stand at your feet, a slow drawl crooned from the corner of the room. 

“What? No kiss for your captain, Doc?” Killer teased you, finally making his presence known as you hobbled away from the captain’s bedside. “No little stroke on the forehead after the professions of love? Not even a gentle cup of his clammy, sick cheek?” 

If your scowl had the ability to sear through metal and bone, the look that bloomed in your eyes would've sent Killer to his grave. 

“Caressing and kissing my unconscious crewmates is not my forte,” you spat in return, upturning your lip and snarling at the blonde. He was taken aback by your menacing altitude, raising his hands at his sides while he shook his head softly side to side. 

“I meant no disrespect, Doc,” he lowered his head and stooped to your height, “I was just playing, as we always do. Are-... Are you alright-?”

“-No, I'm not,” you growl in return, reaching for the cane and propping yourself up with it. “I had to hear from Hop that Heat told her, that Wire told him, that he overheard you telling the captain to ask for medical attention from me.” You leaned on your cane, feeling your hand shake under the weight of your body. “Do you know how fucking ridiculous that is, Kil? How fucking stupid that is? How worthless that makes me f-feel?” You choked on the last few syllables, feeling the well of emotions finally simmer in your chest and rise in your throat. 

“Hearing Kid, joking or not, say he wanted to kick me off this crew while I'm treating him?” you fought back your tears, finally succumbing to the emotion and having the liquid sear down your cheeks and drop onto the floor. “I can take a lot of shit, Kil. But this? This? This fucking took the cake.” 

The noise from your deep confession managed to stir Kid from his medicated slumber, his body fighting the sleep in a bid to remain awake for your words. He heard every lick falling from your snarling lips, every passionate exclaim causing him to slink back down and listen intently. 

“And when I tell someone I love them? Platonic or not, I don't enjoy being laughed at, or made fun of when I say somethin’ fuckin’ stupid like that,” your eyes drew to Killer's mask as you bore your soul to him, unaware of Kid attempting to sit up in his bed further. “When I-!”

“-Get over here, both o’ you,” Kid interjected, causing both Killer and you to snap your attention over to the captain reclining on his bed. 

“Captain, I-,” you began, prompting Kid’s raspy growl to drown out your repose. 

“-I don't wanna fuckin’ hear it,” his left arm wobbled, patting the pillow in a bid to call you over further, “I'm not tellin’ ya’ both again. Get the fuck over here, now. You too, you big asshole.” 

Killer rolled his shoulders back, his muscles and bones clicking as he kicks off his boots and saunters over to you. Without giving you a moment to reject his order, Killer hoisted you up and slammed your back gently on the large bed beside your captain. Nestling you within the crook of his left arm, he tugged you closer into his embrace, cradling you against his chest, while Killer moved to Kid’s righthand side. 

“Now, you little shit,” Kid growled playfully into your ear, “You're gonna fuckin’ sleep, I'm gonna fuckin’ sleep, and Kil? You're gonna fuckin’ sleep. We're all sleepin’, ya hear?”

“Cap’n, I need to tell Wire that he's in charge-,” Killer attempted to convey, hushed by Kid harshly tugging him into his chest and locking him against his body. 

“-And I don't fuckin’ care. You're cranky as all hell, and Doc is too, ain't ya?” he chuckled down into the crown of your head, stroking it with his cheek, “Now you're both gonna sleep. I don't care how long you sleep for, but you're gonna sleep.” 

“Cap, I-,” you try him, prompting Kid to bark down at you in response. 

“-I don't fuckin' care. Go to sleep, so-...” he took a moment to yawn, his voice groaning at the back of his raw throat, “...-so I can sleep. You're both loud, and I need the people I love close to me. So shut up, and be close to me.”

He turned his face towards Killer, puckering his lips and pressing them against the top of his mask. Emphasising his kiss, he moans an overenthusiastic hum against the cool metal. 

“Mmm-ah,” he releases Killer’s mask from his lips, laughing as he watches the first mate gently punch his arm. “Night, Kil. Enjoy your snooze.” Kid then turns to you, using the stump of his arm to coax you towards his lips. 

Gently fighting yourself away from the captain's affection, he wins by pressing his lips to your forehead and offering the same exaggerated moan. 

“Mmm-ah,” his grin splits up his cheeks as he watches you becoming visually flustered by his actions. “Night, Doc. Sleep tight.” Kid rolls into his back, holding both you and Killer tucked tight into his armpits and sighs a raspy breath of glee. 

“Love you, Kil. Love you, Doc,” he smiled, closing his eyes and truly basking in his two crewmates offering him comfort. He felt Killer adjust himself to make his mask comfortable above his cheek, nestling against the redhead's side. You do the same, giving up on the notion of fleeing from the captain's embrace and drawing your own comfort within his bicep. 

“Love you too, Cap,” both you and Killer whisper in unison, feeling the call of slumber sing it's sweet song under the comfort of Kid’s warm embrace. 

It wasn't an unheard of thing, sleeping beside your crewmates and offering them comfort. Bubblegum often came to either you or Killer when he needed that extra care, and you would always give in when he needed that softness from you. 

But this felt different. 

The soft, likely cold medication-induced love professions after a hard cry with one another made you, yourself, vulnerable to this embrace. Your care for Kid and your crew, the love you all share unlike anything you had ever encountered before. Feeling raw, you draw your hand over Kid’s waist and tuck your face against his chest. As you felt yourself well up once more, a hand came up and cloaked your own beneath its warmrh. Slowly peaking from the corner of your eye up, you notice Killer's hand covering your own and thumbing over your knuckles. 

“Love you, Doc,” he whispered over Kid’s heavy breathing, giving your digits a gentle squeeze, “I mean it, and so does he. We all love you. You're perfect for our crew, and Kid has never wanted to ever kick you off. He was just sayin’ it to-.”

“-I love you too, Kil,” you whisper in return, gently rolling your hand up and squeezing his palm, “And I know. I was just being silly, and a little bit vulnerable after the injury. I know, okay?” You shifted closer to Kid, adjusting so you were comfortable and offering Killer one final quip before your eyes weighed beneath the call of sleep took you. 

“Now do as your told, and fuckin’ sleep would you.”

“You too, Doc.”

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @sordidmusings @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory @nerium-lil @sinning-23

[pebblegalaxy]

Cold Feet in Summer: Causes and Remedies to Improve Circulation

Do you find that your feet always feel cold, even during the summer months when the rest of your body feels warm? This is a common complaint that many people experience, and it can be a sign of an underlying health issue. In this article, we will explore what it means if your feet always feel cold, what it could indicate, and how to fix it. What Does it Mean if Your Feet Always Feel Cold? If…

[springtyme]

𝐀 𝐁𝐨𝐰𝐥 𝐎𝐟 𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 ♡

John Price x reader || Main masterlist || John playlist

summary: You're feeling under the weather, so your husband takes care of you.

word count: 680

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞: 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟒) 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐨𝐝

You slowly open your eyes, the dim light filtering through the curtains making your head throb faintly. The soft cushions of the couch under you feel inviting yet suffocating as a wave of grogginess washes over you as you gain your senses back as you slowly get pulled out of your sleep. 

Your body is wrapped in a blanket, but it hardly warms the chill that has settled deep within you. The dull throb in your head makes it hard to concentrate on anything, and the grey clouds outside match your mood perfectly. With a soft sigh, you reach for your phone, but you already know there’s no urgent message waiting for you. All you want is to feel better.

You hear the gentle clatter of pots and pans coming from the kitchen. The aroma of simmering food drifts through the air, weaving itself into the cosy cocoon you’ve made for yourself in the living room. It’s a comforting scent that momentarily distracts you from your discomfort. You close your eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of the smell envelop you before you pull yourself together and decide to investigate the source of the lovely aroma. 

Rising from the couch feels like a monumental task, but the prospect of something warm and hearty is enough motivation to coax you to your feet.

As you shuffle into the kitchen, the scene before you makes you smile—John is standing at the stove, his broad back turned to you as he stirs a pot with a wooden spoon. You shuffle up behind him 

and wrap your arms around his waist, resting your cheek against his back. The familiar warmth of his body feels like a shield against the chill that has seeped into your bones.

“Hey love,” he says softly, glancing back at you with a gentle smile that lights up his eyes. “How are you feeling?”

You reply with a weak smile, “You know… I’m surviving.”

“Just surviving? That’s not good enough.” He turns off the heat and sets the wooden spoon down before turning to face you fully. “Come here.” He opens his arms, and you step into his embrace, relishing the warmth and safety it provides.

“What are you making?” you ask, curiosity piqued as you shift slightly in his arms, looking up at him.

“Scouse, to warm you up,” he replies, his hands resting tenderly on your back. “It was what I used to get as a boy when I was feeling under the weather. Thought it might do the trick for you too.”

You can’t help but smile, picturing John as a little boy in a cosy, bustling kitchen, the smell of hearty stew filling the air as his mother busily prepared him something comforting. The image brings a sense of nostalgia that softens the dull ache in your head. “That sounds perfect,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

John’s expression brightens, as though you’ve just given him the greatest gift.

“Did I ever tell you about how my mum used to make scouse?” he asks as he gently runs a hand over your back in a soothing pattern. “She always said the secret is to let it cook slowly, so all the flavours blend together perfectly.”

You chuckle softly, feeling the easy affection in his stories. “And eat it when you’re sick?”

“Exactly. It’s the best remedy. Add a little love, and it’ll cure anything.” He leans back against the counter, pulling you a little closer against his chest. “Well, almost anything.” 

As you watch him, a wave of comfort washes over you. It’s the way he moves around the kitchen, the way he takes the time to make something special for you, even when you don’t feel your best. “You’re too good to me, you know that?”

“You deserve it.”

His words wrap around, filling you with warmth and affection. In that moment, the world outside fades away—the grey clouds, the biting cold, even the dull throbbing in your head becomes a little more tolerable, eclipsed by the soothing presence of your husband.

[nickeverdeen]

Spider-Man Across The Spider Verse characters finding out you have a fever (platonic + romatic)

Miles Morales

Platonic

Miles immediately shows concern, his brow furrowing as he notices your discomfort

He quickly places the back of his hand on your forehead to check your temperature

Has to ask his mom and friends what to properly do

“You need to stay put, okay? I’ll get you some water and medicine.”

Miles stays by your side, making sure you’re comfortable

He tries to distract you with funny stories or movies

Ensures you have a warm blanket and are cozy

He texts other friends to let them know you’re not feeling well

If he can, he’ll bring you some homemade soup

“You’ll be back on your feet in no time, just rest.”

Romantic

Miles’ concern deepens, a mix of worry and affection in his eyes

Frequently checks your temperature to see if it’s getting better

Holds your hand or gently strokes your hair to comfort you

Tries to make homemade remedies he’s read about

Still has to ask his mom or friends

Refuses to leave your side, making sure you feel his presence

Sends you sweet and encouraging texts even if he’s in the same room

Puts on your favorite show or movie to lift your spirits

Updates his mom on your condition to get more advice

“Hey, I’m here. You’re going to get better soon, I promise.”

Talks about future plans to keep your mind off being sick

Gwen Stacy

Platonic

Gwen gives you a worried glance as soon as she realizes you’re unwell

She touches your forehead to feel your temperature.

Quickly grabs a medical kit to find something to help.

“You need to rest and hydrate. I’ll get you some water.”

Stays close by, making sure you’re not alone.

Puts on soothing music to help you relax.

Brings you comfort items like pillows or stuffed animals.

Lets other friends know you’re not feeling well and might need help.

Brings you light reading material to keep your mind occupied.

“You’ll be feeling better soon, just take it easy.”

Romantic

Her worry shows more deeply, her eyes soft with concern

Stays close, holding your hand or giving gentle touches to comfort you

Regularly checks your temperature to monitor your fever

Makes sure you have everything you need, from water to medicine

Whispers comforting words to help you relax

Stays with you, talking softly about anything to keep your spirits up

Might sing softly to you if she thinks it’ll help

Brings you warm tea to soothe you

“You’re so strong. This fever doesn’t stand a chance.”

Cuddles with you not caring if she’ll catch it

Hobie Brown

Platonic

Hobie immediately reacts, showing visible concern

He checks your temperature using the back of his hand after he realizes that you’re probably not faking

“Hey, don’t move. I’ll grab you some water and meds.”

Quickly finds something to help you feel better, like a cold compress

Cracks jokes to keep your spirits up despite the situation

Puts on some chill music to help you relax

Makes sure to stay nearby, not leaving you alone

Brings you anything he thinks will make you comfortable

Lets mutual friends know you’re under the weather so they won’t bother

“You’ll beat this fever in no time. Just rest up.”

Romantic

His worry is clear, showing how much he cares

Stays in close contact, holding your hand or sitting next to you

Plays games with you if you wanna

Takes personal care of you, ensuring you have everything you need

Shows a softer side, being tender and gentle with you

Whispers comforting words, helping you relax

Uses playful jokes to keep your mood light

Brings you warm drinks to help soothe you

“I’ve got you. This fever’s got nothing on us.”

Pavitr Prabhakar

Platonic

Pavitr shows immediate and a bit dramatic concern upon noticing your fever

Quickly checks your temperature like 15 times to confirm

“You need to rest right away! I’ll get you something good”

Finds quick solutions like a cold compress or medication

Stays with you to ensure you’re not alone

Engages in comforting talk to keep your spirits up

Uses humor to make you smile despite feeling unwell

Plays games with you which allow you to be laying in bed

Brings you necessary supplies like water and snacks

Romantic

His worry is evident, eyes filled with concern

Stays by your side, not wanting to leave you alone

Regularly checks your temperature, ensuring you’re okay

Gives you personal attention, ensuring you have everything you need and want

Whispers comforting words, and kisses your forehead helping you feel better

Holds your hand or strokes your hair gently

Uses positive humor to keep your spirits up

Brings you warm drinks to soothe you

“You’re strong, and you’ll get through this. I’m here with you, gorgerous/handsome.”

Talks about future dates with the two of you, keeping your mood positive

Miguel O’Hara

Platonic

Miguel immediately slight concern, his face serious

He quickly checks your temperature by thermometer with a clinical approach

“You need to rest. I’ll handle everything else.”

Ensures you have the proper medical attention

Stays nearby from time to time, making sure you’re comfortable and safe

Talks to you seriously about taking care of yourself

Brings you items like blankets and books

Lets the team know you’re not feeling well so they won’t count with you

Makes sure you’re eating and drinking properly

“You’re strong. Just rest and recover.”

Romantic

His concern deepens, showing a softer side

Stays with you, ensuring you’re never alone

Gives you personal and meticulous attention

Regularly checks your temperature, ensuring you’re improving

Offers comforting touches like holding your hand

Speaks a bit gently to soothe you

Brings you warm drinks to help you feel better

Shows tender care, making sure you’re as comfortable as possible

“I’m here, and you’re going to be okay. Just rest.”

Jessica Drew

Platonic

Jessica quickly shows concern, noticing your discomfort

Checks your temperature to confirm the fever

“You need to rest now. I’ll take care of everything else. I mean it”

Efficiently finds ways to make you comfortable

Stays close by to ensure you’re okay

Engages in comforting talk to keep your spirits up

Uses light humor to make you smile

Updates mutual friends on your condition and argues with Miguel not to send you to missions

Brings you essentials like water and snacks

“You’ll be back to your old self soon, just rest up.”

Romantic

Her worry is clear, showing how much she cares

Stays by your side, not wanting to leave you alone

Regularly checks your temperature to monitor your fever

Gives you personal care, ensuring you have everything you need

Whispers comforting words to help you relax

Offers gentle touches like holding your hand or stroking your hair

Brings you warm drinks to help soothe you

“You’re strong, and you’ll get through this. I’m here with you.”

Uses positive humor to keep your spirits up

Turns into mama mode

[rosieofcorona]

All We Do Not Say

Hi beloveds! I have crafted a soft little Gale fic for you because it's my firm belief that everyone's favorite wizard deserves all the warmth in the world. 😌 Also on AO3, if you prefer. As always, thank you for reading. 💕

There was a time in his life that Gale could sleep anywhere, provided he had a good book and a space to sit down. 

In Waterdeep, he might wake in his armchair or on his balcony with the weight of an ancient tome still resting in his lap, or at his desk, his cheek pressed against parchment. The smell of it, of ink and lignin, would bring him back to his senses before his eyes were fully open, and he’d recall what he’d been studying, and begin reading again. 

At home, in his tower, he could do this night after night and still feel mostly rested come morning. 

But he is far from his tower, and farther each day.

Perhaps it is the orb that keeps him up as of late, with its insatiable, unnatural hunger, or perhaps it is the tadpole that wriggles and pulses impatiently inside his skull. Or it could, he supposes, be the simpler and less curable matter of aging– an affliction that seems, on occasion, more frightening than either of the others. 

Whatever the cause of his recent insomnia, it pulls Gale into a rather distressing cycle– he cannot sleep, so he cannot focus, so he cannot read, so he cannot sleep. 

Instead, he finds himself offering to keep watch over camp in the evenings, if only for the distraction. The far-off gibbering of a newborn gnoll, the crunch of foliage under goblin feet, an animal scream– each night a fresh and distant horror calls his mind away from greater threats, from illithids and tadpoles and gods.

It’s an odd remedy, he knows. But the alternative is lying awake in his tent, turning death over and over in his mind until the thought is worn smooth as a river stone. 

It works well for a time, keeps his mind on the present and off of some vague, future doom.

That is, at least, until they reach the Underdark. 

Deep beneath Faerûn, there is something profoundly disturbing about the lack of…well, everything. They find no grand cities or quaint little villages, few animals and even fewer people. 

No trees, no light. No sky. 

Most nights spent underground are so quiet that Gale may as well stay in his bedroll, staring up at a canopy of fabric, dark as the velvet earth above them. 

He thinks, It is like being buried alive, without even the stars to bear witness. 

On these nights he can feel the stones in his head turning over.

Even so, come the evening (or what he guesses is evening), Gale volunteers to stand sentinel for the fifth time in a tenday. 

He always asks them after dinner, when his companions are most likely to agree, after his cooking has warmed them and filled their bellies and made them want nothing more than to close their eyes and dream of somewhere, anywhere else. 

Tav is the only one who protests with any frequency, the only one who seems to notice that the circles under his eyes are half a shade darker than they were yesterday, when they were half a shade darker than the day before. 

Even on nights when she convinces someone else to take his place, he will relieve them after Tav has gone to sleep. 

It starts the same way every time. 

Gale walks the perimeter in an infinite loop, looking for life in the darkness, illuminated only by the fire in the center of their camp. It makes him feel like a distant planet, nearly untouched by the sun. How strange to think that he’d once felt like the sun itself. 

He continues in his orbit until the subterranean cold gnaws at his limbs. It bites down hard on his nose and ears and fingers, chases him back to the fire, back to the light. 

Hypnotized by the flames and their radiant warmth, he does not hear the quiet stirring in the tent beyond his own, doesn’t hear the soft approach of nimble feet. 

A voice comes to him out of the darkness.

“I hope you’re not keeping watch again.” 

“Mystra,” Gale gasps, startled, the goddess’s name invoked in equal parts a prayer, a curse.

“Forgive me,” Tav says, through a laugh she cannot help. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” If it were anyone else he might be annoyed, or even a little embarrassed– but the sound of her laughter bubbles like seafoam over sand, rushes over and around him. Coupled with the relief that she is not some dreadful creature of the Underdark, he finds it difficult to feel anything besides affection. 

“It’s quite alright,” he recovers, with a shake of his head. “You surprised me, that’s all.”

“Then I really hope you’re not keeping watch.” 

She is teasing him now, just lightly, a familiar spark of warmth behind her eyes. 

It is the same look she gives him when she brings him a new book, or when he cooks for her, or when he tells her about Waterdeep. It is the same look she gave him earlier in the day, when she had offered to brew him a tea that might help him to sleep.

Gale has trouble remembering the last time another looked at him this way, so interested and inviting and earnest. 

Perhaps, he thinks, another never has. 

“Are you alright?” Tav asks, when he’s been quiet for too long.  

“Of course,” he says with the sincerity of a promise, offered with a smile that he hopes will be convincing. “Just lost in thought.” 

There is a part of him that doesn’t want to leave it there, that wants to share his every thought with her, his every terror, every dream. She must know that there is more to it, must’ve learned by now to recognize when Gale isn’t telling her everything, but he is grateful that she doesn’t press him, never presses him. 

Instead she breaks into a grin and says, “You’re lucky I’m not a bulette.” 

“I’m lucky they’re not so light-footed. What are you doing up, anyway?”

“The cold always wakes me, sooner or later,” Tav sighs. “If I’d known it was so godsdamned frigid down here, I might’ve nicked a fur or two from the Zhent.” 

It’s Gale’s turn to laugh, though she’s only half-joking. 

She’s drawn near to him, to the flames, her palms outstretched, her fingers spread wide as if to grab hold of as much warmth as possible. 

“But it’s alright,” she continues, “So as long as I’m close to the fire.” 

“Any closer and you’ll be in it, I’m afraid. Perhaps I can help.” 

Tav tilts her head and quirks an eyebrow in a curious little expression. “Can you?”

“If you’ll allow me.” 

Gale turns to face her fully, and she mirrors him out of instinct. 

“Hold out your hands to me,” he says. “Palms together, just barely. Like you’re praying.” 

“Like this?” “Like that.” 

The spell is one his mother taught him, among the first he’d ever learned. 

He still remembers that winter in Waterdeep, when the snow fell hard and fast. When the ice in the harbor kept the ships at arm’s length and the frozen streets shone like glass. He was young then, six or seven, but even now he can feel his small hands in Morena’s, warmed by a word and a touch. 

Warm and fed, she used to tell him. That’s how you show someone they’re loved. 

Gale cages Tav’s hands lightly in his own, the way he might hold a butterfly. He pushes all thoughts of winter away and calls to mind the rippling heat of summer, an orchard grown fat with peaches, the silvery shimmer of sweat on skin. 

The rose-petal flush of a cheek cradled in a hand, her cheek, his hand…

“Calor aestas,” he says quietly, when the image comes into clear view. He feels the cold melt from her fingers, hears the comfortable sigh that follows. “Better?”

“Yes,” she murmurs. “Much.” 

She is looking at him now with an intensity he has not seen since the night he first showed her the Weave, all that time ago. The night he saw her thoughts laid bare, had all but felt her lips on his. 

Had she seen them now, the visions he had conjured? Had she felt him pull her close in his own mind?

Tav clears her throat softly and he comes back to himself, his heartbeat thrashing wildly in his chest. He realizes with some urgency that he has not let her go and pulls back suddenly, but not without reluctance. 

“I hope,” he swallows, trying to compose himself. “I hope it helps you sleep.” 

“Do you want me to stay up with you?”

Yes, he thinks selfishly, Yes. Stay up with me, stay close to me, always. 

He shakes his head instead. “You should rest while the spell holds.”

“And how long is that?”

“As long as I’m able to concentrate.” 

He will think of her hands and their pull on a bowstring, their pluck of a lyre, their grip on a sword. How they weave her own magic, how they cradle a book. How they felt clasped in his, soft and cold. 

A focus worth holding, at last. 

“Only if it’s no trouble,” she says. 

“None at all.” 

Gale is grateful that he manages to stop himself, for once, from saying the rest of the thought as it enters his head. I would think of you anyway, magic or no.  

Tav takes his hand in hers again, this time to squeeze it fondly.

For a moment, he feels that if he were to die just now– from the orb, from the tadpole, in the jaws of a hungry bulette– it would all have been worth it, for this. 

“Thank you, Gale.”

Her smile is warmer than any summer he remembers, brighter than any star he can name.