#epsom salt baths probably help too | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

reidingandwriting · 22 days ago

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Like A Prayer > w.w. & l.h

Word Count: 6.2k

Pairing: Deadclaws x Reader

Warnings/Contains: Cursing, Wade having chronic pain, a little anxiety all around, and the last bit. Is pure sex tbh. We’ve got a 4 + 1 fic baby, and that plus one,,, they’re just fucking tbh.

A/N: So sorry this took ages 🧍🏻‍♀️ I’m not 100% happy with the smut at the end of the chapter But!! more smut is coming, potentially featuring sub!Logan 👀😗

Previous chapter

It didn’t come as a surprise to you that Wade dealt with chronic pain. Most days it was manageable, he told you. Just a little annoying, like a new pair of shoes that squeaked when you walked. Except the shoes never got broken in and the squeaking never went away. His pain never fully went away either, his metabolism too high for any pain meds to work.

All this to say, him being in pain was just a fact of life. He was Deadpool. He had somehow by the grace of every god out there bagged not one, but two partners- one of them being the fucking Wolverine- who could tolerate his shit and even match it. He was also in pain every waking moment. Facts. But like he said, it was usually manageable.

Today was different. He knew last night it would be; your heater had crapped out last night and it would get fixed today, even if you had to go full Karen. But that didn’t help Wade now. The early morning chill seeped into his bones, muscles contracted, aching with every breath. Definitely didn’t help that he’d had a long night of Deadpooling last night.

Wade blindly reached out, feeling for the living heater known as Logan, but whined when he was greeted with a cold side of the bed. He must be out already.

“Wade? Wha’s wrong?” Your voice was thick with sleep, speech slurring slightly as you sat up.

“Just cold. And feel like my body is made of lead, fuck.” Wade groaned and you frowned.

“Do you feel up to walking? I can run a warm bath and I’ve got some epsom salts.” Walking was the last thing on Wade’s mind, but you wanted to help him. Wade could see the way you were fidgeting, your urge to take care of him taking over. Always such a mother hen. And a warm soak would probably do some good.

“That sounds perfect, thank you.” And with the smile you gave him in response, how could he say no to you?

It took him an embarrassingly long time to get to the bathroom and he was irritated with himself, but you were still so gentle with him. More patient than he deserved. You let him struggle a little to undress, which his pride appreciated. As much as he loved being babied, as much as you loved babying him, you seemed to know when he needed to do things himself. Even if it was impractical, even though your hands kept twitching, ready to jump into action and help him. You talked about some baking show you started watching last week with Logan as you ran the bath to fill the silence and Wade appreciated the distraction.

Once you were happy with your work, you helped Wade into the bathtub and you couldn’t help but smile at the content sigh that left him. Wade’s eyes slipped closed, the warmth enveloping his body, and you sat beside him, forearm dipped in the water as you held his hand.

By the time Wade was ready to leave the bath, you gave him a little space to get dressed again. Only after assuring he’d be okay by himself. You mentioned having some surprise for him in the living room you needed to set up and Wade’s curiosity won out. Besides, he did feel better after his soak.

Minutes later, he heard commotion as he exited the bathroom and the sight in front of him had him floored. The couch was covered in blankets and had been dragged up a few feet. You were on the floor, finishing up building… what was that? Wade cleared his throat and you jumped.

“Shit, you scared me! Sorry, I’m just finishing setting this up. Go on and get comfy.”

“Whatcha got there, cupcake?” Wade asked but obliged. He walked over to the couch and wrapped the cozy navy blanket around him before taking a seat. “Switching from bartending to a construction career?”

“Never. Those blue collar boys work too early for me. Much prefer my late nights and our lazy mornings. This is an electric fireplace. Can be used for ambience but also lets off a fair amount of heat, according to reviews. Apparently it could be tomorrow before our heat is fixed, and it’s been killing me watching you miserable, baby.” Wade’s heart skipped a beat at the still new pet name.

“You, you bought this for me?” Wade willed his voice to stay steady but he must have failed given the look you gave him when you looked up at him.

“Of course I did.” You sounded confused, pausing for a moment before it dawned on you. “Wade… you know I love you, right?” Wade nodded, his eyes beginning to water. “This is your home. You deserve to be comfortable and if I can do anything to help you out, I’m gonna do it.” The fireplace clicked on and almost immediately, Wade could feel the heat blowing towards the couch. His whole body felt warm, and it wasn’t from the fireplace or the blankets.

“What holy being did I deliver the fucking of a lifetime to in order to deserve you?” Wade asked. You took a seat on the couch, laying back against one of the arms and gestured for him to join you. Wade positioned himself in between your stretched out legs, his back against your chest as you both laid out.

You massaged his shoulders, pressing gentle kisses wherever you could reach as Wade turned to putty in your hands until his breathing slowed, his chest eventually rising and falling in his familiar sleeping pattern. A mid day nap never hurt anyone, you reasoned as your own eyes closed.

ii.

Logan liked watching you and Wade. No one was on the same level as him- his energy and his ability to blabber on and on unmatched- but you never seemed to have trouble keeping up. It was nice, seeing someone who could match Wade’s energy. Even on days you weren’t as hyper, you were attentive. Even during his ten millionth time rambling about the last episode of whatever trashy reality show you were watching, you listened to him intently, as if he was explaining how the inner workings of the universe.

That was one thing that took Logan a while to get used to. How attentive you were. How dedicated to the both of them you were. It was easier to watch it with you and Wade. Easy to watch Wade open and close his hand, his tell he was looking for something, the words escaping him as he asked for “the… the… FUCK you know what I’m talking about, the thingy!” and somehow, you always found the right thing. On the days Wade cooked- a rare occurrence, but he did make a delicious breakfast- you sat on the counter, ready to assist. You wore one of Wade’s shirts, one of the My Little Pony characters on the front- Pinkie Pie, Logan thought?

You and Wade were deep in conversation, your legs swinging lightly as your hands moved in the air, your words getting faster as you got more excited. Logan sat at the dining table, mug of coffee steaming in his hand and he felt your gaze land on him. How long had he been staring?

“Having a senior moment, peanut?” Wade asked and you scowled, lightly kicking at the side of Wade’s leg.

“Be nice, gremlin.” Wade maturely stuck his tongue out at you and you rolled your eyes, fondness evident in your smile, before you looked back at Logan. “You okay, bub?” Logan’s heart felt like it stopped working briefly, loving when you used his pet name for you and Wade back at him. He was not gonna read too deeply into what exactly that said about him, but it filled him with a warm, pleasant feeling.

“‘m okay. Just don’t know how you two wake up with so much energy.” Wade must have opened his mouth and you swatted his arm, causing Wade to laugh.

“It’s a curse and a blessing,” you said solemnly, the corners of your lips twitching in amusement when Logan chuckled.

“Alright, honey bears, breakfast is done. And I believe the apron does say kiss the cook, and who am I to disrespect the ancient art of a Homegoods apron?” You grabbed Wade by the frilly sides of the apron, pulling him in for a bruising kiss. Wade’s eyes opened comically wide before he melted into your touch, quite literally melting as he gripped the counter for support.

You giggled at the dazed expression on his face, making grabby hands at Logan. Logan rolled his eyes, a fondness in the motion as he walked over and pressed his lips against Wade’s. It was softer than your kiss, but passionate all the same. Logan’s hand cupped the back of Wade’s neck, holding him in place for a moment before pulling away. Wade honest to god whined, stomping his feet a few times. “Fuck, why are both of you so god damn hot?”

The three of you ate breakfast, talking happily. You had a night off and you were looking forward to a rare quiet moment with Logan. You didn’t get to have much one-on-one time with him due to your opposite schedules, unlike Wade. You loved your lazy mornings with Wade, getting to dote on him and loving all the attention he gave you.

The day went by smoothly. You had recently gotten Animal Crossing (a much calmer game after the last Mario Kart fiasco) and you all played together for a bit. You ordered lunch, none of you feeling up to cooking at the moment, and you continued watching Hell’s Kitchen. Logan fixed a hole in the wall from the Mario Kart incident, you did the dishes from breakfast and Wade folded the laundry. It was sickeningly domestic and you loved every minute of it.

After you cooked dinner and the men bickered while on dish duty, Wade pouted as he stood by the door, mask still in hand. You were on your third ‘one last kiss’ and you gave Wade an unimpressed look when you felt his hands squeeze your ass.

“It’s my good luck charm!” Wade whined and you rolled your eyes, yet pressed one more kiss to his lips. “Gonna let me cop a feel, peanut?” Wade smirked at Logan. Logan walked over, cupping Wade’s jaw in his hand before kissing him goodbye.

“Don’t let your mouth get you in trouble, bub.” Wade groaned, letting his head thud against the door before he finally had the strength to leave.

“No R rated activities without me! Miss you already.” Wade blew kisses to you and Logan both once his mask was on and the door shut behind him with a soft click. A few beats of silence passed before you turned to Logan.

“Mario Kart?”

“Let’s fucking go.” Logan grinned, a little feral and you couldn’t help but match it. Let’s fucking go.

“You cheater! You skewered Wade for cheating last time but you’re the cheater!” You swatted Logan’s chest, him shaking from laughter, and you tossed the controller aside. “Get out of my house.”

“Bub, don’t be a sore loser,” Logan said through laughter as he pulled you into his lap, pressing a few gentle kisses to your cheeks. “I was tactful.”

“You know I’m distracted by shiny things and you whipped your claws out.” You huffed and Logan chuckled, a deep sound in his chest. “Mean.”

“Yeah, ‘m the worst.” You turned to bury your face in his neck, a satisfied smile on your lips.

“Glad we agree. I think I get date night input for that one,” you said and Logan wrapped his arms around your waist, settling his hands on your thighs.

“Sounds like a plan.” Later that night, the two of you sat on a blanket, in some grassy area away from town. A can of beer in each of your hands, you tucked into his side as you looked up at the sky.

“It’s nice to see some stars for once. I know we can see some at home, but there’s so many more out here. Can actually see a few constellations.” Logan listened as you pointed out a few, occasionally sparing you a glance as you pointed at the sky. “You’re staring,” you said after a minute, looking up at him.

“You’re beautiful,” Logan said simply and you swore there was a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. “And you’re too fuckin’ good for me. Always… always treat me so gentle. Always giving me what I don’t even realize I need.” And you did. You managed to match the energy of whoever you were with- a little crazy with Wade, but quieter with Logan. Passionate all the same, but you focused on actions with Logan over your words. Your words were deliberate with him, and your actions always solidified them. He was good, you said with a kiss to his forehead. You’re more than what they made you, you whispered as you curled into him at bedtime.

“You deserve it.” You sounded so sure, like it was an objective fact and not just your opinion. Being around you and Wade had helped with how he viewed himself, however you don’t easily erase two hundred plus years of self loathing and self deprecation. You sure took it as a challenge, though.

Logan felt his eyes burn with unshed tears and he kissed the side of your head, his lips lingering. You sat outside for a while longer until the cold started to get to you, and Logan shed his jacket, wrapping it around you before you started to head home. Music played faintly over the car radio and the quiet between you two was peaceful. He was your solace, and you were his.

iii.

You had been running around the house for hours now. This was the first big get together for Wade and Logan’s friends and you felt sick to your stomach. What if they all hated you? Wade and Logan had both tried to tell you everything would be okay, but you honest to god growled at them and both men blinked in shock as they watched you walk away.

“That’s your fault, your rabies infected her.” The claws in his side were worth it, until they heard you yell.

“If you get bloodstains on my floor, you’re both on the couch for a week!” They hurried off, Wade going to change clothes and Logan getting paper towels.

In the midst of all your prepping, you didn’t realize Wade and Logan were worried for you to meet their friends. Worried they’d combine and be too much, a subconscious whisper of concern over how their mutations would come across. The rational parts of their brains knew they had nothing to worry about- you chose to be with Wade and Logan and they definitely weren’t a walk in the park. Yet still, they worried.

Turns out none of you needed to worry because within ten minutes of everyone arriving, everything was in smooth sailing. Laura, Yukio, and Ellie had quickly pulled you into their group. Soon, the living room was full of talking and laughter, like it was a reunion of lifelong friends instead of several different new friend groups mashed together.

Logan sensed your mood shift- a subtle thing, but he couldn’t help but look at you, worried. Logan excused himself from his conversation with Elektra, walking over to you. “Can I steal you for a minute?”

“Gross, go kiss on your own time.” Laura huffed, a playful glint in her eyes.

“Brat.” Logan gently butted the heel of his palm against Laura’s head, chuckling as he took you to the privacy of your room. “Everythin’ okay, bub?”

You nodded but your eyes welled up with tears all the same, and within seconds, Logan pulled you into his chest and your shoulders shook as you silently cried.

“See, you’re saying you’re okay, but your crying has me thinkin’ otherwise.” You let out a wet laugh at his reply and you looked up at him.

“I’m so happy,” you sobbed and Logan brushed your hair back. “I’ve never… never really had a family before. Yeah, I had my parents but they were absent more often than not and then I was still just a kid when they left. I’ve lived in this house for years all by myself, then I made Wade. Then you came along, and everyone out there. I’ve always wanted this and now I finally have it.” Oh, and if that didn’t make Logan’s heart shatter for you.

A soft knock at the door interrupted and Logan looked over to see Wade walking in. “Heard someone was hogging my favorite human and- oh, honey.” Wade cooed when he saw your face. “Happy or sad tears?”

“So happy,” you whispered, opening your arm for Wade to join you. Wade quickly situated himself with the two of you and Wade pressed a kiss to the top of your head. The three of you stood together for a little longer as you pulled yourself together and you eventually pried yourself free. “Do I look like I just sobbed my eyes out?”

“So much,” Wade teased and you scowled up at him. Wade wiped under your eyes with his thumb before kissing your forehead, cheeks, nose, then lips. “You look beautiful. Hiding it very well.”

“Let’s go back. Shitty hosts we are, huh?”

The rest of the night went smoothly, all things considered. Somehow you managed to cook enough for there to be leftovers, and everyone settled in the living room as they ate and talked. You had been pulled into Wade’s lap in your search for a spot to sit and your free hand traced over Logan’s.

“How is your sanity in tact with these two?” Ellie asked and you heard the teasing tone to her words, but instinctively, you felt a surge of protectiveness crash over you at her lighthearted jab. Logan nudged your hand with his own and you took a long, slow breath.

“It’s easy,” you said with a shrug. “They’re family. Never had one of those before, but I feel like the luckiest person in the universe to be able to love them and be loved by them. They’re pains in the ass, but they’re my pains in the ass.”

“Oh, cupcake, that is the sweetest thing you could ever say about me,” Wade wailed dramatically, covering your cheek in kisses. And that was that. Neither Wade or Logan left your side for the rest of the night, even after the guests left. You stayed on the couch for a while, basking in the love you felt from your family. Family. What a wild concept that was.

iv.

Date night. An odd concept to Wade and Logan, but neither had the heart to shut you down with how excited you were.

You knew the basics of Logan’s past- he wasn’t a date night kind of guy. He had a long history of casual partners, but his relationship experience was… limited to say the least. Pairing that with his introverted nature and general dislike of being around people, he hadn’t been on many dates. None that he could remember.

And then there was Wade. Wade had dated once before, but since that ended… since he looked the way that he did, he kept his outside time limited to Deadpool time. If he braved the real world without his mask, it was typically at Sister Margaret’s or the occasional slow night at your bar. He may sound vain, but he was fairly attractive before his… transformation. You and Logan looked past his appearance, you frequently complimenting him and Logan giving him compliments every now and then that genuinely made him blue screen. But his insecurities ran further than surface level, and outside of the safety of his partners and his friend group, he felt uncomfortable showing his face. Even with his guard dogs, he could feel every double take or stare.

So when you mentioned a date, both men were apprehensive. But you promised you’d find something that would meet their comfort levels and if at any point anyone felt uncomfortable, you’d leave. End of, point blank. No questions asked. Hesitantly, they agreed and the pure excitement that lit up your expression- mixed with a bit of hope- made *some* of their worries melt away.

You were secretive about most of the planning, wanting to keep an element of surprise to the date. All you told them was you’d have privacy and they just needed to dress comfortably. The days passed and the time of your date approached, and Wade couldn’t help but feel a little sick to his stomach. Logan expressed his anxieties differently than Wade, him channeling his nerves with projects outside. Your small lawn had never looked better and your back porch had turned into a screened in porch, something you had nearly cried over from the joy you felt. Wade busied himself with his ‘housewife’ duties, laundry and tidying.

The night finally came and you had situated yourself in the drivers seat of a SUV you rented. No matter how much Wade pestered you, you didn’t relent and tell him why you had rented the vehicle when you had a perfectly fine car. You had been driving for a little while, out of the city, past the suburbs, until the flux of neighborhood lights had turned into stars littering the sky. Logan sniffed, getting a hint of food stored in the back of the vehicle and he jumped when you poked his side.

“Quit trying to spoil it!” You playfully narrowed your eyes at him, a lightness to your tone he hadn’t heard in a while. You were excited, like a kid in a toy store, and he felt his own smile grow as he looked at you. Wade leaned over the center console, whining.

“I feel so neglected back here! I still think I could sit in your lap, peanut.” Wade huffed and Logan rolled his eyes as Wade draped himself over Logan’s shoulder.

“Codependent.” Logan scoffed but made no effort to move him.

“And what about it?” Wade nudged his nose against Logan’s cheek and you smiled, watching the two of them out of your peripheral.

“Alright, I think we’re here!” You pulled into the empty grassy field, driving down the dirt path.

“Sweetness, lovingly, where the hell is here?” Wade asked. “Because it looks a little run down.”

“Patience, ye of little faith. You’ll see.” You drove further down the path and moments later, the drive in theater made itself known. There were a few other cars but it was mostly empty tonight, something you were happy to see. “It’s not as extravagant as I wanted,” you started as you parked the car. “But I figured it would be a good start to going out in public. Still private enough, but a step forward.” You didn’t meet either of their gazes, your fingers drumming against the steering wheel. “Is, um, is it okay?”

Logan moved first, unbuckling you and pulling you into his lap. He hugged you close and you curled into his chest, pressing gentle kisses to his shoulder. “I love it. Thank you.”

“You did great, cupcake.” Wade climbed across the console, awkwardly positioning himself to join the hug. “It’s perfect.” You quickly kissed Logan, then Wade, then clapped your hands lightly. “Let’s get set up.”

You got to work. You laid the back seats down then propped all the pillows up and laid out all the blankets. Wade got the radio set up while Logan helped you set the food up. You had packed some sandwiches, some other little snacks you knew everyone liked, and you made a popcorn run- ignoring Wade’s teasing ‘I thought dogs couldn’t eat corn’ directed at Logan and the playful growl that followed.

You piled into the back of the SUV, you taking your spot in the middle of the blanket pile you made. It was a bit of a tight fit, but the three of you curled together anyways, watching the (kind of shitty to be honest) horror movie that played. You spent the time together making comments about the movie, laughing and quietly talking for the duration of the movie. It felt nice to be out of the house, but normal at the same time. By the end of the double feature, you were half asleep as you looked up at Logan through your lashes.

Logan leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, a shaky breath escaping him. “This is the most effort anyone has ever put in for me. ‘ppreciate it and you so much.”

“Happy to do it. Love you both so much.” You buried your face in Logan’s chest, missing the look he and Wade exchanged.

“We love you too.”

You were going to die. You were certain of it. Between the two of them, you were going to die and be revived- just to die again. But fuck, there was no better way to go. Sitting in Wade’s lap, only the thin layers of your underwear separating you, kissing him while Logan sat behind you. Kissing down your neck and hands roaming your body as if trying to memorize every detail about you.

You whined as you rutted against Wade’s lap, a broken sound as Logan’s thumbs brushed over your nipples. You arched into his touch, wanting- no, needing- more.

“Fuck, enough fucking foreplay. Fuck me,” you huffed and Logan’s deep chuckle followed.

“Impatient, aren’t ya, needy girl?” Logan’s breath fanned against your neck, causing your skin to erupt in chills. “I think we’re just getting started. Aren’t we, Mouth?” Logan looked up at Wade, a feral gleam in his eyes. Wade’s own eyes darkened, a strangled groan leaving his mouth.

“Fuck, Wolvie. Alright, let’s get ‘er prepped.” The two of them worked seamlessly, adjusting you into a more comfortable position. Wade leaned back against the headboard, you laid back against his chest. Your legs were spread, propped over Wade’s own, and Logan knelt in between your legs.

“Need you closer,” Logan grabbed your legs, propping them up against your shoulders and you whimpered at the feeling of his breath against your core. You clenched around nothing, squirming as Wade’s hands trailed up and down your body. With Logan’s help, you shimmied out of your underwear, letting them fall discarded to the floor.

Logan kissed up your thighs, moving closer and closer to where you wanted him. You bucked your hips, Logan’s grip tightening on your hips. “Patience, baby. Not going anywhere for a while.” Logan punctuated his sentence spreading your lips and licking a fat strip over your hole.

The moan that left you was Loud, your eyes rolling back into your head as you threw your head back against Wade’s chest. Wade’s hands cupped your breasts, gently squeezing and rolling your nipples in between his fingers. Wade leaned down, kissing the corner of your ear and whispering.

“Gonna be so good for us, aren’t you, sweetheart? Gonna let Logan have his fun with you, then I’ll have my turn. Not gonna be leaving this bed for a while, not until we’ve pulled so many orgasms from you.” You moaned, breath hitching as Logan lapped at your cunt, your hand gripping his hair. A low rumble left him, the vibrations shooting up your spine and your thighs squeezed against his head.

“Wanna be good, gonna be so good for you,” you said. Logan plunged his tongue in your hole and you swore you saw stars. Logan’s nose brushed against your clit as he ate your pussy like a man starved. You had figured he was good with his mouth but holy fuck. Pleased noises left him frequently, your moans and whines only spurring him on and you gripped at his hair at would had to be a painful hold, but Logan seemed to get off on it.

“Fuck, Lo- feels so fucking good. Holy shit, you feel so good. Make me feel so good,” you babbled and Logan looked up at you through his lashes, pupils dilated and eyes a little hazy, and the sight (mixed with Wade’s fingers rubbing at your clit with expertise) had you clenching down on his tongue, your thighs squeezing his head as he rode you through your first orgasm.

You honest to god pouted when Logan moved away until he crawled up to you, kissing you with such passion it made you dizzy. His tongue pressed into your mouth and the taste of you, mixed with the lingering alcohol on his lips from dinner, was intoxicating. His lips were slightly swollen when he finally parted and you knew you looked fucked out already.

“Alright, switcheroo time. About to Explode over here.” Wade spoke and to make his point, he rubbed his hard cock against your ass. You shifted, moving to straddle Wade, slowly rolling your hips down against his cock that strained against his boxers. You rubbed your hands down his chest, to his stomach, then hooked your fingers in the waistband.

“Poor baby, so neglected.” You cooed, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. You worked his boxers down, tossing them aside. “Whatcha think, pretty boy?” Wade shivered from the nickname, and you ran your hand up and down his thigh. “Does my favorite mouthy merc need my mouth? Whatever you want, baby.” One hand on Wade’s thigh, the other on his cheek.

“Mouth. Please, fucking need your mouth.” You nodded, looking over your shoulder at Logan as you slowly pumped Wade’s dick.

“Think you can handle prepping me?” You teased, smirking at Logan’s responding downright wolfish grin.

“Get comfortable, bub. Think I’m gonna get at least one more out of ya before I even consider fucking you.” And hot damn if that didn’t make you wet. You turned back to Wade, patting his thigh.

“On your back, prop your legs up. That’s it, good boy.” You snagged a pillow, positioning it under your stomach as you positioned yourself. While Logan had him beat, Wade certainly wasn’t lacking in the downstairs department and you barely stopped yourself from whining at the thought of the both of them stuffing you later.

Blinking once, you licked a stripe up the underside of Wade’s cock, smiling at the needy moan that fell from his lips. One of Wade’s hands fisted the sheets, the other moving down to grip your hair.

“Fuuuuck, fuck.” Wade moaned. You took Wade’s tip in your mouth, suckling softly, moaning when you felt Logan’s finger prodded at your entrance.

“Looks like all I needed to shut you both up,” Logan’s tone was taunting as he pushed his finger deeper, “was occupy your mouth. And get her mouth on you.” Logan moved his finger in and out as you moved your head further down Wade’s length.

“Oh, fuck off. Fucking- hnng- mouth from the gods. Shit!” Wade cursed as you hollowed your cheeks, sucking. Your nose brushed against his pelvis and you looked up at Wade through half lidded eyes.

“Fucking hell, cupcake, don’t- shit- don’t look at me like that if you want me to last.” You moaned when Logan added a second finger, Wade’s hips bucking as he felt the vibrations.

God, Wade finally fucking died and went to heaven- he could spend the rest of his life like this. The warmth of your mouth around his cock, muffled moans escaping you as you sucked his soul out of him through his dick, Logan finger fucking you from behind. Your stomach tightened, a sign you were close to cumming again, and you whined as you pushed back against Logan’s fingers.

“Gonna cum for me again, princess? Think you deserve it?” Logan asked, voice taunting as he brushed against your g-spot, the pressure almost causing you to buckle. Your pleas were muffled by the cock in your mouth and you whimpered. “What do you think, Red? I think it’s fair to make ‘er wait, until you’ve had your turn.” Logan set a relentless pace, fingers hitting just right every time, and you squirmed, jerking forward when Logan’s hand slapped your ass.

Wade moaned his agreement, hips bucking into your mouth. One of your hands held his hips, the other moving up to fondle his balls and Wade started to pant.

“Fuck, ‘m close, just like that, baby, shit!” You picked up the pace, and after one, two, three more bobs, Wade’s hands found the back of your head, holding you in place as he rode out his orgasm. You moaned as you swallowed, letting Wade pull you off. A few seconds passed before Wade was on you again, his lips against yours.

You kissed him the best you could, in between the breathy moans and whines as your orgasm got closer. Wade tilted your head up, latching onto your neck and pressing bites and sucking at the sensitive skin.

One thing you noticed quickly about the men was their love of leaving marks on you. Hickeys and scratch marks didn’t last long on Wade or Logan, their healing quickly removing the marks, but you? They lingered and it drove them crazy.

The room filled with needy whines, gasps, and a high pitched moan as your second orgasm crashed through you, and Logan continued pumping his fingers. “That’s it, darling, good girl.”

“Lo,” you whined, panting as Logan pulled out his fingers. He caressed your hip as he shifted towards Wade. A single look was all it took and Wade’s mouth was open, happily sucking Logan’s fingers clean.

“Turns out all I need to get your mouth to stop running is stuff it. Finally found a good use for that mouth, huh, Mouth?” Logan asked and Wade nodded, eyes glazed over.

You huffed from where you were underneath them and Logan squeezed your hip. “Feeling needy? How do you want us?”

And that’s how Logan ended on his back, you on top of him, and Wade behind you. You were so fucking full, impossibly full, but god you wanted more. You needed more and you raked your nails down his chest, throwing your head back against. “Fuck me like you mean it, Logan. Fill me up, make me scream so the entire street knows who I belong to.”

Going for his possessiveness was a cheap shot, but by the way his eyes darkened, a low snarl leaving him, god damn was it effective. The grip he held on your thighs was bruising, Logan and Wade thrusting into you in tandem. Wade’s chest was against your back, whispering in your ear.

“Fucking feel so good. Made for me, made for us. Gonna ruin you for anyone else, you’re ours.” Wade nipped at your ear, tugging the skin gently.

“Like I’d ever go anywhere else. You’re both mine, forever. Would, fuck!, would be happy staying in between the two of you forever.” Logan leaned up, wrapping his lips around your nipples and you arched into his touch with a properly pornographic moan. “Where, where else would I go?” You tugged Logan’s hair, tilting your head to the side so Wade had better access to your neck.

The room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, moans and whines. Logan groaned deep in his throat, his thrusts getting a little sloppier but sharper- he was close. Based on the way Wade’s grip tightened on you, his babbling being replaced by needy noises and curses, your -god, you’ve lost count at this point- orgasm approaching.

“Fuck! Fuck, love you both so much. My boys, all mine. Close, shit, so close.” An animalistic growl left Logan, Wade biting down on your shoulder, and you felt both men twitch in you. “Fill me up, make me yours.” Your babbling was cut off by a broken moan, clenching down as your orgasm hit. Your vision went white, truly seeing stars, and it felt like you ascended from your body.

You came to a moment later, laid against Logan’s chest and Wade’s leg draped over the both of you, face buried into your shoulder blades. “There she is,” Logan’s voice was rough, scratchy, but gentle all the same. “Feel better now?”

“Don’t think I’ll be able to walk for a week,” you said. You shifted slightly, looking between both Logan and Wade with a happy smile.

A low rumble filled the room and holy fuck, Logan was purring. A rough sound but soothing all the same. “Fuck, I love you both so much.” You leaned over to kiss Wade, then Logan, then leaned back against the pillows as your eyes closed. You and Wade spoke softly, Logan occasionally chipping in but happy to listen, his purr being all the input needed.

The universe sure had a weird way of working. The three of you having rough starts, losing those you loved, believing you were destined to spend the rest of your lives alone. Then Wade stumbled into your life, Logan begrudgingly joining him, and now… you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

taglist: @flower-majesty-anon @scarlettsoldier @asdorlia

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stardust-and-snickerdoodles · 4 months ago

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tired and i'm awake

fandom: Chicago Med

pairing: Connor Rhodes x Reader

summary: You've kept your chronic pain a secret from Connor since you started dating. But fate has other plans for you, and an untimely accident leads to him finding out about your condition.

tags/warnings: angst, injury, burns, hurt/comfort, chronic pain/illness

word count: 3024

a/n: this one's for all my EDS/POTS combo girlies

When you were young, the doctors said it was “growing pains.” That eventually it would go away, that it was only temporary, take an Advil.

Then you got older, and it was your period. Even though the pain was constant and all over, somehow every doctor put it down to your cycle. Sure, it was worse when you were menstruating, but it didn’t disappear when you weren’t.

Sometimes, you were “making it up” or “drug seeking.” ER visits, annual physicals, all proved fruitless. Eventually, it was all just too much to handle. The constant doctors’ visits, the unending questions with no answers. You’re tired.

Even when you lay on the bathroom floor, curled around yourself and sobbing, you refuse to go to the doctor. You know it won’t amount to anything, just another bill and insurance paperwork. You manage on your own with 3 extra strength Tylenol or a heating pad or just laying in bed until it mostly subsides. Then you can get up and pretend to be okay again.

So, it was a bit of a surprise to everyone who knows of your issues when you started dating a surgeon. Hell, you even surprised yourself. But Connor is… different. He’s kind and understanding and patient. Still, your previous negative experiences prevent you from telling him about the chronic pain you experience, or any of the other problems that come along with it.

You’ve been dating now for about six months and you couldn’t be happier. Connor’s hours are busy and long, but you look forward to the end of every day when you can see him. Even if it means putting on a brave face when your joints ache. You moved in together about a month ago, and it’s a little harder to hide the pain now, but you manage. You don’t want to be just another patient for him to deal with.

Today, you have a feeling it’s going to be a little more difficult to put on your façade. Your knees and hips have been acting up lately. Everything feels… a bit looser than usual, like the tissues between your joints are made of thin string, ready to break at any movement. Each movement feels as though you’re going to rip yourself apart, limb from limb. It’s all you can do not to cry out when you finally pry yourself out of bed in the morning. Connor is already gone, having left sometime in the middle of the night, off to work his shift at the ED. You hope beyond hope that the pain will have subsided by the time he gets home tonight.

You hope that maybe a warm bath with some Epsom salts will help, and take short, shuffling steps to the bathroom, walking near the wall just in case. Each footfall sends shooting pain up your legs. You grit your teeth and manage to make it to the toilet, sitting down and reaching to turn the tap on the bath. Breathing in and out slowly, you remind yourself that you have this under control. You will survive this, it’s just pain. It’s just pain.

You stare as the tub fills with water, trying your best to compartmentalize and clear the pain away. Mind over matter, that’s what your mother always says. Easy for her, when she’s not the one in pain.

Feeling as though you might break with any sudden moves, you lower yourself into the warm bath, closing your eyes as the water surrounds you. It’s calming and smells like eucalyptus.

You linger until the water is cooled and your joints begin to protest from staying in one position too long. You wrap a fluffy robe around yourself, a gift from Connor after he saw the old ratty one you’d been using for years. It’s luxurious and soft, and probably cost him the equivalent of an entire week’s salary for you. Perks of dating a surgeon, you suppose.

Just standing has you feeling lightheaded, and you can feel your heart beating in your ears. For a moment the room darkens as spots fill your vision, but you just breathe in deeply until it subsides. Then you continue to take small steps back out to the bedroom, before placing yourself gingerly on the comforter.

Once you’re still and laying down, the pain begins to creep back in with force. It just reminds you that as much as you want to, you can’t ignore it. You can compartmentalize and convince yourself all you want, but you’re stuck with this.

Now, along with your hips and knees, your back and neck have begun to ache from sitting upright in the tub. You sigh and curl onto your side, your wet hair clinging to your neck. Five minutes, you tell yourself. Then I’ll get up and get dressed and dry my hair and… God, it’s all so much. How are you ever supposed to get all of that done when you feel like this? Still, you reprimand yourself and promise only five minutes of rest. Just until the aching diminishes somewhat.

You wake to the sound of the door unlocking. Night has fallen outside the window, leaving the apartment bathed in darkness.

So much for five minutes.

Connor walks in, looking tired and worn out, but still wearing a smile when he spots you curled up on the bed. You smile back, still groggy from your extended nap.

“Hey sweetheart,” he murmurs, setting his bag down before taking a seat next to you. “How was your day?”

“Good,” you lie easily. “How was work?”

Connor smooths some errant hairs away from your forehead before placing a soft kiss there. “Busy. But good. Did you shower? Your hair’s still wet.”

A fierce blush makes its way up your cheeks as you avoid his eyes. “Took a bath. I guess I just passed out after. Baths always take it out of me,” you half-joke.

Connor’s brow furrows and you can immediately sense the switch into “doctor mode.” He places the back of his hand on your forehead again. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine,” you reassure, pulling his hand down to your lips to plant a gentle kiss on his knuckles. “Do you want dinner? I can make something.” The ache in your joints begins to make itself known again, but you want to do something nice for Connor. You know how tired he is after his shifts.

“Sure,” Connor replies, but he’s still looking at you with concern.

You slowly sit up, trying to school your expression as something pinches in your hip. “Spaghetti? I think we have some noodles leftover from the other night; I can just make a quick sauce.”

Connor nods and stands with you. “I’m gonna go shower,” he states while pulling you into a loose hug. “Do you need anything before I go?”

You shake your head and breathe him in. He smells like the hospital, but underneath that is the gentle scent of his cologne that always relaxes you. “No, you go. I can handle it.”

Connor releases you and makes his way to the bathroom while you head to the kitchen. You feel incrementally better than this morning, the pain in your back and neck thankfully lessened. Your hips are the worst now, and the right one especially feels tenuous. Each step is shaky, but you push through it.

You’re grateful for the distraction of cooking as you work on dinner, but it’s not enough to totally take away the pain. As you stand over the stove you can still feel the pulsing in your knees, the unsteadiness in your hips, and the ache in your back is returning. You barely suppress a groan as your right hip nearly gives out.

Seconds later, the door to the bathroom opens, and Connor exits with just a pair of jeans slung low on his hips. For a moment you’re tempted to stop cooking altogether and take him right back to bed. But then your right hip protests yet again, and the thought quickly flees. You shoot Connor a smile as he comes up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist. His chin rests on your shoulder and you tense imperceptibly. Illogical as it may seem, you’re worried maybe he’ll… feel your pain or something, if he gets too close.

“Smells good,” Connor murmurs, kissing the side of your neck.

“Grab some plates,” you reply, stirring the spaghetti sauce one more time before turning off the heat.

Connor’s arms leave you and you let out a breath. You grab some potholders from a nearby cabinet and pull the sauce off the stove.

As you make your way over to the table, your hip begins to feel even more unsteady than before. Each step is agony as you grip the saucepot, praying that your leg doesn’t give out now. Connor’s back is to you when suddenly you step wrong. Instantly, you feel a popping sensation in your hip and you stumble.

The pot goes flying, splattering sauce all over you and the kitchen. You crumble to the floor, a short cry leaving your lips. The sauce burns your thighs, uncovered thanks to the robe you still wear, but all you can feel is the burning pain in your hip. It feels… wrong.

It’s not exactly a new experience. A few years ago – with no help from your doctors – you finally realized that this type of pain means something is dislocated. In this case, your hip. It’s one of the worst to dislocate, since you have trouble getting it back in place on your own.

Connor immediately rushes toward you, calling your name in panic. “Are you okay? Oh god, what happened?”

You grit your teeth to stop from crying out again as you right yourself with your leg out in front of you. Your hand grips your right thigh, the pain from your dislocated hip shooting down your leg and making your toes numb.

Connor’s already pulling out his phone to call 911, obviously only seeing the burns on your legs from the hot sauce.

You reach out to grab his wrist to stop him from dialing. “I’m fine,” you insist, tears brimming in your eyes.

Connor levels you with a glare that would make anyone give in. “You just spilled scalding sauce all over yourself. You’re at least getting checked out at the ED.”

“Okay, okay, but… Can’t you just drive me?”

He must hear the pleading tone in your voice because he sets his phone down with a sigh. “Fine,” he surrenders. “Let’s get you cleaned up first so I can take a look.”

You nod as he stands to retrieve towels. Once his back is turned, you take mental stock of your hip. It doesn’t feel too badly dislocated, but it certainly needs to be put back sooner rather than later. Before you get a chance to do it yourself, Connor returns with wet towels. He immediately gets to work gingerly cleaning your skin. You can tell that you’ve at least got first-degree burns, maybe even second in some places. But you can’t get past the pain in your hip. If you could just get a moment alone so you could reset it…

You notice that Connor’s movements have stopped and you look to see what he’s doing. His brows are furrowed as he looks at your right leg, now clean of the sauce. “Doesn’t look too bad, but I still want to go to Med just to be sure. And…” Suddenly his eyes widen and his hands rest delicately on either side of your leg. You can’t help but flinch at the touch. “It looks like your hip is dislocated… God, that must hurt. Did you hit it on the ground when you fell?”

You bite your lip and shake your head. “It’s nothing,” you insist.

“Y/N,” Connor’s voice is firm. “We need to get this reduced. I’m calling an ambulance,” he says, pulling out his phone once more.

“No!” you cry. “I can take care of it!” Before he can stop you, you bend your knee outward, making a half-butterfly shape with your legs, then push down on it with your hands. Your hip pops back into place with an audible click and the relief is instant.

Connor is silent for a long moment as he stares at you, mouth agape.

You speak before he can, blabbering without much sense. “It’s fine, it happens a lot. I’m okay, I promise.”

Your boyfriend’s eyes are wide with concern and empathy. “What do you mean?” he whispers.

You shrug and take the wet towel from his hand, continuing to wipe off the sauce from your other thigh. This one’s not as bad as your right, but it’s still painful. “Nothing, Connor. I just… It happens sometimes, okay? Dislocating things, it’s not new to me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Connor’s voice is so full of hurt that you immediately regret keeping this from him.

“I don’t know,” you murmur, meeting his eyes. The tears in your own begin to fall down your cheeks. “I just… I’ve always dealt with it on my own. I didn’t want you to have to deal with it too. And I didn’t know if you’d believe me, no one ever believes me, and I didn’t want to lose you because of my broken body…” You’re rambling now, the adrenaline and pain making your words come out jumbled.

Connor scoots over to sit next to you, uncaring of the sauce that’s getting on his jeans. His arm wraps around you gently, and already you can feel that he’s treating you differently. Touching you like you’re… fragile. “Y/N… I would never not believe you about something like this. Have you gone to the doctor about it?”

A sob leaves your lips and you smile sarcastically. “Of course, I have, Connor. I’ve been to so many doctors and none of them have any answers. It’s always growing pains, or my period, or I’m faking it. Eventually I just gave up because, like I said, I can deal with it on my own.”

Connor is silent for a long while. Finally, he lifts your chin with his finger so you’re forced to meet his eyes. “You don’t have to deal with it on your own now. We’re together, and that means we tell each other these things. I won’t leave you because of something you can’t control, sweetheart. And I want you to find answers. We can find them together. Okay?”

You nod and Connor goes to dial 911 again. As he’s on the phone with the operator, you let the tears fall. The pain of the burns is finally hitting you, only adding to the existing pain you already feel. Connor’s words mean everything to you, but right now that’s all they are – words. How can you know he’ll stay with you after he finds out what this really is like? The constant pain, the days spent in bed, the agony of it all? How could anyone – how could Connor – ever want someone like you?

You don’t realize that Connor is done on the phone until his hand lands on your shoulder. “Babe?” his voice is a little louder than necessary, which tells you that he’s been trying to get your attention for a while.

“Sorry,” you mutter, using the back of your hand to wipe away errant tears.

Connor takes a deep breath, and you worry about what he’s going to say. “You can talk to me, you know?”

You nod, avoiding his eyes. “I know. But this… I don’t want to be just another person you have to take care of.” The sound of sirens grows loud outside the apartment building.

“Honey. Look at me,” Connor urges, lifting your chin again. “You are not just another patient to me. You never will be. Okay?”

“You don’t know,” you whisper, your voice suddenly hoarse. “Once you know what it’s like, how much help I’ll need… I don’t know what my life will be like in 10 years, hell, even in a year. I’m in pain all the time, and I don’t know if it will get worse, and I don’t want you to be burdened with that.”

Before Connor can answer, the intercom buzzes as the paramedics request entrance. Connor stands to let them in, and you bring your sore legs up so you can bury your head in your knees. The embarrassment of it all is starting to hit you as you realize that soon you’ll be at Med, surrounded by Connor’s colleagues. No doubt he’ll want to run a myriad of tests to figure out your underlying condition, and you’re not sure you have the energy for that right now.

You hear the door opening, followed by a couple pairs of footsteps and Connor’s voice getting closer. “Female, 27, post-fall and contact with hot liquid. Superficial partial thickness burns on the thighs. Right hip dislocated but already reduced.” You hold in a snort at his medical jargon describing your silly accident.

The paramedics aren’t anyone you know, but they’re nice enough as they examine the burns and apply saline-soaked gauze. You’re embarrassed by your lack of proper clothing, but they don’t seem to mind. You’re sure they’ve seen worse than a nearly-naked woman anyway.

They ask various questions while Connor watches nearby, eyes slightly narrowed as if to make sure they don’t hurt you further. Once you’re finally loaded up onto a stretcher, he returns to your side and holds your hand in a crushing grip.

“This is really unnecessary,” you mutter at him, squeezing his hand.

Connor looks down at you with a soft smile. “Doctor knows best, sweetheart.” He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Don’t worry, we won’t stay if you don’t want. As long as you get that hip x-rayed and those burns checked, I’ll be satisfied. We can figure out the rest later.”

You smile back, tears pricking your eyes again. “Thank you, Connor. For being here.”

He snorts out a laugh. “You really have to raise your standards, baby.”

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illdowhatiwantthanks · 7 months ago

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The Lentil & The Blueberry (The Surprise, Part 2)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, NSFW, sex, fingering, mention of vomiting (for my emetophobia babies), established relationship, fluffity fluff, worried Emily has my whole heart Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: Weeks six and seven of your pregnancy are underway, and you are struggling. But maybe not as much as your wife? Wildly overprotective Emily will do anything to help you feel better during your pregnancy. And I mean anything. 😉

Week 6: The Lentil

Emily had known about the baby for less than 12 hours, and she’d already gone into full Overprotective Dad™ mode. You’d slept in the morning after telling her, jerking awake to find Emily towering over you, watching with her eyebrows furrowed.

“Jesus, Emily!” you exclaimed, stretching. “You scared me!” You glanced at the clock. “Don’t you have to be at work?”

Emily continued staring, a look of deep concern on her face. “I really don’t want to leave you here like this.”

For a brief moment, you forgot you were pregnant. You scoffed. “I’ve had jet lag before, babe. I think I’ll be okay.”

“No! Pregnant.” She sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, absentmindedly running her hands through your hair as you moved to rest your head on her lap.

“I’m fine, Em,” you assured her. “I’m a little tired and sore, but that’s probably just from moving.”

“Maybe I should call and tell them I can’t make it in today…” She was speaking more to herself than to you.

Your voice was stern, decisive. “You can’t take off work for nine months just to sit around and watch me be pregnant. Even if you could, I’d rather you take the nine months after the baby’s born.”

She sighed deeply, looking down at you as if she was making the hardest decision of her life.

“You promise to call me if you need anything?” she asked.

“Promise.”

She gently placed your head back on the pillow, then knelt down in front of the bed so her eyes were level with yours.

“Please don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone,” she whispered. You could tell she was trying to lighten the mood, to make herself feel better about going to work, but she was too worried about you for it to sound anything other than terrified and pitiful.

“Like what?”

“Ladders, lifting things, falling in the shower...”

“Well, I wouldn’t fall in the shower on purpose,” you argued.

“Just…” She leaned forward and kissed you so gently, so softly, running her thumb slowly along your brow bone. “Be careful. Be safe.” She stood, then leaned down to kiss you on the head one more time.

“I love you,” she said, then lifted up your shirt to kiss your stomach. “And I love you.” She shot you one last desperate, anxious look before leaving.

“Promise you’ll call?”

“Go, Emily.” You shooed her out of the room, laughing. Who would’ve guessed that managing your wife might be the hardest part of being pregnant?

Week 7: The Blueberry (18+)

You leaned back into Emily as the warm water swirled around you, the sound of the jets and the movement of the water soothing your aching body. Morning sickness had started in full force, and your abs were sore from mornings spent heaving over the toilet. Your head was killing you most of the time, and you were constantly bloated. All in all, the first trimester was kicking your ass.

Emily kissed your shoulder, pressing her face next to yours and wrapping her arms around you to gently cup your breasts, mindful of the pain you’d been experiencing.

You sighed contentedly as she ran a thumb lightly over your swollen nipple.

“Better?” she asked.

“Mmhm,” you nodded, eyes closed. When Emily had called this afternoon to check on you, you’d told her how gross you felt from puking all morning, how sore your body was. She’d stopped at Bath & Body Works on the way home to buy every single kind of bath bomb they sold, just to be sure you’d have a fragrance that didn’t make you feel sick. She’d brought Epsom salts and fancy body butters and a new candle because the one you usually had in the bathroom smelled like coffee, and coffee triggered your gag reflex right now. She’d come determined to do whatever it took to help you feel better.

“And to think you said paying more for an apartment with a fancy jacuzzi bathroom was, and I quote, fucking dumb.”

“I take it all back,” you said, whining softly and involuntarily pushing your hips forward as Emily continued circling your nipples, her touch light as a feather.

“Honey,” Emily breathed behind you. “You can say no, but…” Her breath was hot against your ear. “Can I touch you?”

Your body wanted it, but your mind was struggling. “I don’t know, Em…”

Emily gently turned your body around so she could look in your eyes, her thumbs running back and forth along your hands. She leaned close, placing a hand gently on your cheek.

“It’s okay if you really don’t want to, but..” She watched you squirm a bit under the water. “It feels like you do. Can you tell me what’s going on in your head?”

You avoided her eyes, following a stream of bubbles as it made its way around the tub. “I don’t feel very pretty…” you mumbled, looking away.

“What?” she said, and you couldn’t tell if she hadn’t heard you or if she couldn’t believe what you’d said.

“I don’t feel very pretty. I feel gross.”

“Y/N.” Her voice was heavy with love and care and you felt a little like crying, not because you were sad, but because she loved you so much it was overwhelming in your current hormonal state.

Emily pulled you onto her lap and wrapped her arms around your body, pressing kisses into your face and neck. “You are so pretty. What are you talking about?”

“I’m pukey and bloated and my hair is greasy because I’m too tired to shower,” you confessed, resting your head on her shoulder. “I feel disgusting.”

“Baby,” she said, chastising you and gently guiding your face so you had to look at her. “You’re beautiful. You’re growing a whole human right now. You’re incredible. You have never been more beautiful to me.”

Almost unconsciously, you started to grind your hips into Emily’s, your breath coming fast, rhythmic. You sighed, wrapping your arms tightly around her neck.

Emily grinned. The words were working! She left a trail of kisses along your shoulder, placing her hands on your hips to guide you.

“You are stunning, Y/N. You’re growing eyes for our baby this week, did you know that?" She thought for a moment, morbid curiosity getting the better of her. "I wonder what it looks like in there…”

You stopped abruptly, as if a record had been scratched. “Not sexy, Emily. I don’t want you thinking about what the inside of my uterus looks like.”

“Sorry,” she replied sheepishly, an embarrassed smile playing on her lips. You pressed your hands to the side of her face and kissed her, your body hungry for hers for the first time since you’d returned from London. You couldn’t get enough of her, couldn’t get close enough.

“Emily,” you said breathlessly, pulling away to look at her. She was nearly as out of breath as you were–and significantly more flushed. “Touch me.”

“You’re sure?”

“Please.”

You whimpered as Emily’s thumb brushed over your clit, the warm water soft and comforting around you. She rubbed slow, indulgent circles, sensitive to your sensitivity, and your hips rose to meet her each time, even as exhausted as you were.

She kissed you deeply, passionately, her tongue desperate and gentle as it roamed your mouth, your neck. You moaned into her as she slipped two fingers inside of you, your body pulsing urgently around her. She kept her hand still for the most part, letting you control how hard, how fast, how deep.

As your breath grew ragged and your body clenched, surging against Emily’s, she moaned into your mouth, pressing into you. “Oh, god,” you breathed, Emily’s sounds nearly driving you over the edge.

“Come on, baby,” she begged, gasping. “Come for me.”

You drove your hips into Emily as your body convulsed, whimpering while your orgasm washed over you like a waterfall of static electricity. She fucked you through it, only removing her fingers when your breath started to calm and you fell against her, spent.

“Feel better?” she asked, kissing the side of your head, and pushing a string of wet hair out of your face.

You nodded, still too out of breath to speak.

You dragged yourself into a sitting position a few minutes later. “Here,” you said, clearly exhausted. “Let me do you.”

“It’s okay,” Emily told you, grinning.

“I can,” you insisted, pulling her toward you for a kiss.

“No, Y/N,” she said, laughing a bit as she pulled away. “I’m good. As in, I already came.”

“What!?” You giggled, blushing a bit. “Jesus Christ, Em! You were horny as fuck.”

She blushed and kissed you again, then poured some shampoo into her hand and grabbed your head playfully. You sighed happily as she massaged it into your scalp.

“I can’t help it,” she shrugged. “Look at you. Your boobs are fucking huge right now.”

“Well, don’t get used to it.”

Emily stared at you for a minute. Your soapy head. Your arms crossed defiantly over your chest. The slight pouch in your stomach that she knew would grow into her child. The way your eyes shone, holding so much love, so much purity of spirit and heart. What had she done to deserve you? She felt tears forming at the corners of her eyes, and she used her thumb to wipe them away.

“Are you crying?!” you asked, leaning forward to take her hand in yours.

“I just love you so much,” she said, her voice heavy with emotion.

“Oh, god,” you complained, sniffling yourself. You had a hair trigger for crying these days. “If you cry I’m gonna cry.”

She exhaled firmly. “I’m pulling it together, don’t worry.”

“I love you, too,” you said quickly before dunking your head under the water to get rid of the suds. And because if you thought about it too much, you'd start sobbing and god knows when you'd stop.

You popped back up, flipping your hair over so you looked like a founding father. Emily laughed, and all was right in the world.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss fluff #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss drabble #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic

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danieyells · 4 months ago

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When i was cleaning up and filling out Leo's voicelines the other day I briefly got caught in the "i'm gonna take a bath, wanna come with? Yes really" one he says in winter regardless of affinity. And how Leo had 0 hesitation when it came to holding pc's hand and leaning against them to use his stigma. And how he hugs onto Sho's arm at the beginning, and must hang onto Sho's waist whenever they're both riding Bonnie. And how he has no particular boundaries when it comes to physical affection or his body when it comes to other people if he thinks they're kind of okay to be around or needs something from them--everyone else, however, is filthy and not allowed to touch him.

And I just imagined him taking a bath with mc--"but first, we have to take a shower so we're not sitting in a tub of our own filth."

And he doesn't think anything of that he's naked with them, that they're in his shower, that they're using his soap and they're gonna smell like him. He has no awkwardness about it. Turn around so he can wash your back, you are not getting hidden dirt in his nice bath.

And the bath itself is full of bubbles. There are candles lit on the edge of the tub. Leo doesn't really talk much while they soak, mostly scrolls through his phone or reads or just sits and enjoys his bath. It's. . .comfortable. And quiet. Sometimes he shows them something on his phone or pretends to be recording a video of/with them to tease them. But for the most part it's. . .surprisingly peaceful.

And he does this with Sho, especially if Sho gets hurt. A hot bath will ease the pain, so come get in the shower so I don't have to hear you whine. You always take such quick showers, you're gonna be super gross Sho! Why do you always let your hair get so long anyway? There's always so much of it to wash. You're getting even more muscular with all that sparring Cap's making you do! You're gonna be a himbo just like him❤️

And Leo runs a steaming hot bath full of epsom salt and all kinds of good stuff so his body guard can heal a little faster. And they soak in peace for a while and Sho's so used to this particular little bonding activity, the fact that he smells like cookie dough on his way out doesn't even phase him. Leo's at his nicest when he gets to have a quiet bath with someone

Eventually, Leo manages to convince Alan into a bath with him too. Maybe he ended up a little hurt on a mission--a long soak will do him some good, won't it? You're probably worse than Sho, you probably always take little five minute showers and wash 'the important bits' like your whole body isn't important. You're not allowed in the tub until every inch of you has been scrubbed and exfoliated so let's get to work!

Alan feels very awkward sitting still in a bathtub like this--last time he had a bath was probably last time he found a hotspring while hiking--but Leo's tub is big enough for both of them. It does feel really nice--he doesn't know why Leo threw in some weird ball that made the water change color and made it smell like lavender but he guesses it's nothing to complain about. Weirdly enough it's so chill and comfortable he can't help but doze off. . .if he wakes up to Leo napping against his chest then what's he supposed to do though?

#danie yells at tokyo debunker #leo kurosagi #he has baths with romeo too. they're not as peaceful they usually end up talking shit or romeo vents to him or something #but they end a lot softer. usually

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tiniedemon · 2 years ago

Text

— ♡

with a hungover s/o headcanons

team stan + craig

— ♡

stan

— has the most experience with having hangovers

— slides you a tylenol and a glass of water the minute you wake up

— cuddles you in the dark until you feel alright enough to watch tv

— lets you choose the show

— turns the volume and the brightness down

— if you’re throwing up he’ll hold your hair back if it’s long enough

— probably cries at some point

— so emotional seeing you in pain

— if you need a nap he’ll take one with you

— brings you fast food when you wake up to help with nausea

— anything you want you get

kyle

— also has experience but with helping stan with hangovers

— tylenol and water on the nightstand when you wake up

— leaves you alone for most of the day

— he doesn’t wanna make your hangover worse

— the only way he’s coming in that room is if you beg him over text

— will absolutely not be in the room if you’re throwing up

— cannot stand vomit but will cuddle you if you’re not

— cooks you a greasy breakfast first thing in the morning

— he’s so quiet you’re not sure he even used the kitchen

kenny

— also pretty experienced with hangovers thanks to his parents

— brings you a beer and an ibuprofen

— is confused when you don’t want the beer because his parents usually did

— brings you water instead and just drinks the beer himself

— definitely holds your hair while you’re throwing up

— probably also ends up throwing up

— just a continuous cycle of you making each other sick

— you spend the entire day napping and kenny’s so bored

— eventually he ends up napping too

eric

— is an absolute dick about it

— loud as fuck for no reason

— bangs around the kitchen cooking for himself

— early as fuck might i add

— does bring you tylenol but just tosses the bottle at you

— stays far away if you’re sick

— rips on you for drinking too much

— eventually caves and spoons you after you beg for a while

— secretly loves cuddling you though

— gives you back rubs

— covers the window with a blanket so the light doesn’t bug you

— eventually cooks you food and eats in bed with you

butters

— the sweetest ever

— he’s such a great boyfriend

— he really is

— but he has no clue what to do

— loud as fuck on the phone asking kenny what to do

— cries because he doesn’t know what to do

— comes into your room with fast food and tylenol

— forgets water

— holds your hair back if you’re throwing up

— but probably has to leave the room afterwards so he doesn’t also end up sick

— back rubs and cuddles for sure

— fine with napping all day

— especially if you let him spoon you

craig

— leaves ibuprofen and water on your nightstand before you wake up

— also leaves a cute note for you

— but will never admit to leaving the note

— the second you text him he’s in your room with you

— probably won’t be in the room if you’re throwing up

— the noises bother his tism

— but will absolutely cuddle you all day if you ask

— doesn’t talk at all

— knows how it feels when loud noises hurt

— so he’s dead silent

— probably also puts a blanket in the window

tweek

— panics for the first 30 minutes

— very aggressively might i add

— you have to put a pillow over your head he’s so loud

— but then he’s sneaking in to leave you some painkillers

— turns out they’re opiates he bought off kenny

— sneaks out and then back in with tylenol instead

— gives the opiates back to kenny

— down to cuddle if you want

— but the second you start throwing up he’s running away screaming

— stressed as fuck

— but he still takes care of you

— feeds you and gives you a relaxing epsom salt bath in candlelight

— read about it on pinterest

— it’s the thought that counts

jimmy

— probably also clueless

— brings you an entire bottle of painkillers

— has no idea how many you need

— eventually brings you a bottle of water

— tries getting you to watch a movie

— is upset with himself when you start crying because the light hurts your head

— probably gives you a shoulder massage

— holds your hair back but gags the whole time

— whispers corny ass jokes in your ear

— genuinely thinks his comedy will chase the hangover away

— all it does it make you laugh

— and then groan because your head hurts

— cuddles you all day

— but is definitely restless and ends up turned away watching tiktok quietly on his phone

tolkien

— has the most sense

— leaves tylenol water and pedialyte on your nightstand

— puts a blanket in the window to block light

— reads in the living room until you text him that you need him

— then he’s spooning you and rubbing your stomach

— rubs your back and holds your hair

— very quiet and comforting

— forehead kisses and shoulder massages

— cooks for you at some point

— but is also super quiet about it and it’s so perplexing as to how he managed

— ends up taking a nap with you

— prays you end up feeling better by the next day

— definitely dad lectures you when you’re better

clyde

— he’s also hungover

— a couple that parties together crashes together

— downs half a bottle of ibuprofen (not really, but definitely takes more than recommended)

— then lets you have your share

— both of you nap all day

— he definitely is also throwing up

— you get the toilet he gets the trash can

— he takes one for the team and takes the trash bag outside when he’s done

— complains all day

— you end up cooking for the whiny baby

— but he gets way less than you as a punishment

— you end up spooning him

— he’s got it so much worse but still manages to give you a back massage

#south park x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #stan marsh x reader #kenny mccormick x reader #butters stotch x reader #eric cartman x reader #clyde donovan x reader #craig tucker #tweek tweak x reader #jimmy valmer x reader #tolkien black

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little-annie · 2 years ago

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*Steve had a migraine and Eddie comes lovingly to the rescue*

It's a fucking bad one.

Everything hurts.

Everything makes him hurt.

The sound of the old pipes in the house knocking, the sound of a tree brach creaking, the sound of his own fucking breath. It makes him hurt. It makes the pressure in his head swell with a fury.

The weight of his head on the pillow, the tightness in his jaw, the tension in his brow, the strain in his eyes. The fucking light glowing from his alarm clock or creeping in under his door from the hallway.

Everything's too bright, too loud and everything just makes him feel worse.

Especially that fucking phone that won't quit ringing.

It makes him feel worse from the sound alone, a fog horn blaring down the hall, echoing and bouncing from the walls. It's a vile sound and it only stops for a total of five, maybe ten minutes before it starts again. An incessant RING, RING, RING.

Fucking hell

But what honestly makes him feel even worse is he knows it's probably Dustin or Robin or Eddie or one of the kids. They're probably worried. Christ, the shit they've gone through, after one missed call they probably think he's dead. But it's not like he can bring himself to get out of bed and answer the phone, so he lets it ring and after an hour, it finally, finally, stops.

Along with the slightly more quiet house comes some relief, a lessening of pain and pressure, just enough for Steve to manage sleep.

And a deep sleep at that.

So deep he doesn't hear the knock at the front door, doesn't hear the call of his name from the man he loves, doesn't hear the knock on his bedroom door by ringed fingers. He fails to sense fingers to his neck checking for a pause, the relieved sigh that's let out from the man at his bedside, the slow, careful movements of his lover slipping into bed behind him, wrapping tattooed arms around his waist and pulling him close.

He wakes a few hours later, a snore not so much startling him awake, but gently alerting him to the presence of one Eddie Munson at his back. It's a relief in itself to have Eddie there, the tension in his body seems to lessen from that alone. Not completely of course but some.

The snoring had stopped, the young man behind him alerted of his wakefulness probably by his subtle movements or change in breath.

Soon enough there's a gentle peck to the back of his neck and whispered words of, "How're you feeling Sweetheart?"

God and if Eddie's voice doesn't make him feel better. He doesn't know if it's the headache necessarily that eases up or purely the tension from his frustration, but having Eddie close and having his voice like a low, quiet melody in his ear is calming, relieving.

But all Steve can manage is a quiet, "s' hurts Eds."

Another soft kiss to his chilled, clammy, frankly probably disgusting skin, "I know Baby. When's the last time you took something?"

"6"

"Okay, I'm gonna go get you some water and painkillers. What do you need Stevie, your ice mask, a hot bath?"

"Want a bath and you to read to me."

"Okay Sweetheart," another kiss to the back of his neck, "You sleep and I'll get everything ready."

He drifts back to sleep before he can even process the movement of his mattress or the gentle kiss to his forehead.

While he's out Eddie manages to prepare a hot bath filled with Lavender oil and Epsom salts, taking the time to do dishes and any other of the household chores Steve would worry about on a daily basis. By the time the bath is ready, dishes are done, laundry is done and steam is rolling into Steve's room from his ensuite.

The lights are off in the bathroom aside from a single candle that burns just bright enough for Eddie to make out the world around him. He wakes Steve with a kiss and a hushed, "Stevie, Sweetheart, get up Baby, you need to take something for the pain."

And when Steve can manage to open his eyes, he sees the man he loves holding a glass of water and two small pills. With a little help he sits up, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Eddie's stomach for a moment before he takes the pills and finishes his glass of water.

Wordlessly he stands up, hand clasped in Eddie's as the man leads him to the dimly lit bathroom. It's a routine, unfortunately, this happens enough for Steve to no longer be embarrassed when Eddie undresses him and helps him into the bath. It's a normal thing. The touches that are chaste and gentle and loving, every care in the world as fabric drops to the floor and he sinks into the water.

He sighs with relief, eyes fluttering shut while he listens to Eddie undress, the careful drop of fabric, the hardly audible trickle of metal rings being set on the counter top, then there's a hand on his cheek and lips on his. A soft gentle kiss, then Eddie's moving into the tub to settle behind him. Steve relaxes further, feeling Eddie's body behind his own. Feeling the rise and fall of his lover's chest against his back or the weight of an arm settling around his waist while pale thighs move to settle at his sides. He feels enveloped. Held.

Then there's a kiss on his shoulder and Eddie begins to read. Soft, quiet, low, a whisper in the room, gentle words in the steamy air. Steve slumps further into the bath, eyes closed, head resting against Eddie's shoulder as their fingers intertwined under the water, resting against his stomach.

It's everything and the tension melts away, the pressure in his head fading with each passing second, each passing whispered word.

Cool water, a relaxed mind and an hour later he's drifting to the land of slumber once again. Faintly he hears the fold of paper and the gentle thump of Eddie's book hitting the floor. A hand settles in his hair, gently combing through strands, then a kiss is placed on his temple, soft, gentle and with the whispered words of, " I love you Sweetheart."

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steddie fandom #steddie fanfiction #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #steddie fic #steddie headcanon #steddie

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highonmarvel · 1 month ago

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Bloodbath

Steve Kemp: After a long day, all you want is a nice, warm bath.

A late piece for @ozzgin’s Yantober prompt #11!

warnings: gore, particularly dismemberment. 18+!

“Steve?” you call, hanging your coat up, your voice echoing through the vast corridors. When you first visited Steve, his large house made you roll your eyes, and that awkward charm he had you whipped with seemed somewhat disingenuous now. Yes, he was a plastic surgeon, but for one man, a house this large was so unnecessary as to be purposefully ostentatious, but when he had asked you to move in with him, you got the sense that maybe he was feeling lonely in this place big enough for a family and a few extended relatives to live comfortably in. Sure, his place was so out of the way it nearly tripled your commute to work and back, but the way his eyes lit up when he asked the question made your brain melt and your heart swell, and you couldn’t deny him if you tried.

It’s been a month now, and though being with him all the time feels natural, you can’t say you’re really comfortable in his home. Not because of anything he did, he made sure that you would be as comfortable as if you were in your apartment, but there’s always just this soft, eerie feeling lingering in the corner. The lights are a warm-toned bronze, the wooden floorboards should provide a sense of hominess, yet still you just can’t be at ease. Maybe it’s because the trees near his house cast menacing shadows that sometimes make you bolt up in the middle of the night, clutching your chest as you try to slow your breathing. And when you look over at Steve, he looks so peaceful, and it makes you feel strange, that he doesn’t have any fear—granted, they’re irrational, but if something were to happen, the nearest help is miles and miles and at least an hour away, not to mention there’s hardly any signal here.

Though your voice echoes, you dismiss his nonresponse as him not hearing you. You sigh as you enter his sunken bedroom and immediately flop onto the bed. The long drive really takes it out of you, especially after a long day. You once recall Steve implying you didn’t need to work anymore, that he could take care of both of you, and though you knew that was true, you can’t deny having something to do takes your mind off this weird gut feeling something’s just… wrong.

No. You’re just tired. Lazily rolling off the bed, you grab a bag of epsom salts that’s been sitting in your bedside drawer for a while now, waiting for the perfect opportunity to be used. And maybe you weren’t really feeling any muscle strain, but whatever, you can treat yourself.

Steve’s en-suite has always been too big for your comfort, and the tub is at the far corner so you can’t see if it’s filled until you've walked right up. As you undress, out of the corner of your eye, you’re sure you see the tub is filled with… red water. Something thicker than water. And when the thought strikes, suddenly the scent of iron comes full force, making you crinkle your nose.

Clutching the pretty bag of salts to your chest, you take a few cautious steps forward, eventually shutting your eyes and whispering prayers that it’s not what you think it is. When you feel your toes curl into the mat that sits at the foot of the tub, you rip your eyes open.

You gag and cup your free hand over your mouth and nose, turning away from the horror laying in your home—you saw a few limbs, maybe a torso, but if you go back to really discern what every piece of flesh was, you’d vomit all over the scene and probably implicate yourself in the crime.

You dash out of the bathroom, feeling your eyes water as you slam the door shut behind you, resting your forehead on the cool wood and letting out a shaky breath.

“Hi.”

You shriek and drop the bag as you spin to face Steve, standing on the other side of the bed, eyeing you carefully, but you can’t read his expression.

“H— hi,” you sputter out, clutching your chest again and suddenly feeling very exposed. You grab a towel hanging from a hook on the door and quickly wrap it around yourself. Steve’s silence unnerves you, so you continue, “I was— I was just going to take a bath,” you explain, hoping you sound natural and that Steve can chalk your behaviour up to being tired. But no—your eyes are wide, your body is trembling, your chest is rising and falling so rapidly it’s like a heartbeat in itself: you’re wide awake.

Part of you hopes Steve will panic, think you haven’t been in and encourage you to use one of the other bathrooms, or smirk and reply ‘Alone?’ to distract you. His eyes narrow suspiciously for a moment, before he blinks and returns his stare to challenging, tilting his head ever so slightly with a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Go on.”

You gulp and dart your eyes nervously to the door, and then back to him. You want to make an excuse but you can’t, mouth dry and voice gone. When you don’t move, Steve stands and you instinctively take a step back, and when he takes another, and another, you can’t match him, frozen as you stare up at him fearfully, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. He gently tugs at your towel and lets it fall to the floor, carefully taking the bag of salt from you and placing a hand on the small of your back, to which you flinch. When he opens the door and walks you forward, you can’t find the strength to plant your feet in the ground and resist him.

The stench becomes stronger and stronger as you near the tub, unable to hold your breath any longer for fear of passing out, which you might do anyway.

When you hear an unmistakable sheath, you try to turn, but Steve’s large hand moves to firmly grip your shoulder. When he steps behind you and presses the cool silver of a butcher knife to your shoulder, you finally allow a tear to fall.

“You’re next.”

♩

[my beloved taglist: @cowboysnbugs, @buckys-wintersoldier, @cjand10]

#yantober #dark steve kemp #dark!steve kemp #dark steve kemp x reader #dark!steve kemp x reader #dark steve kemp x you #dark!steve kemp x you #dark!steve kemp x y/n #dark steve kemp x y/n #steve kemp x reader #steve kemp x you #steve kemp x y/n #yantober 2024

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gabessquishytum · 10 months ago

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So… probably TMI, but I'm a fencer and between that and a bunch of other things I have pretty much unforgivably fucked up one of my shoulders with accumulated injuries (ranges from mild persistent awareness to WHy is picking up this water bottle Ouch). Which gave me Thoughts regarding mercenary/soldier Hob Gadling carrying around and doing battle with (significantly heavier!) Actual Medieval Longswords and etc. I see a lot of stories where Hob has knee pain which makes sense but. Chronic Pain Shoulder Crunchy Hob. Could turn into something sweet with Dream helping out (but also has bonus angst potential because I know if I fall asleep on that side wrong it Fucks Me Up Extra for a week or two at least).

Ooo I actually really love this anon, I too am a Crunchy Shoulder person. I have a severe scoliosis so shoulder n back pain is my area of expertise.

I've always secretly headcanoned about Hob having back pain because it just makes sense (even if he's immortal and invulnerable to lasting injuries, I can only imagine that standing up and walking around for 600 years would be terrible for the back?!) and also because I like making him suffer.

I like the potential for Dream helping with the pain too. In canon, maybe he runs Hob a nice hot bath with Epsom salts, a traditional remedy that Hob still loves. And maybe he makes himself weightless so he can cuddle Hob in bed without putting any painful pressure on the sore bits of his body. And I'm also always a sucker for a massage au - chiropractor Dream, maybe?!

I wish you many pain-free days dear anon. If I write any more back pain!Hob fics I'll be sure to link them here. In the meantime you might enjoy 'you and me and the pain - together' which is a recent ficlet I wrote on this subject.

#the sandman #dreamling #cw pain

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leclerced · 11 months ago

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landoscar x reader with endometriosis

she wakes up crhing with cramps so bad she can’t breathe or move and they immediately wake up because they can feel her whining and trying to get comfortable (moving is only making it worse) and they start freaking out and she feels like she is gonna scream and they just wanna help and take care of her so lando holds her and let’s her scream if she needs to and rests a hand right on that little spot above her uterus like a heating pad and oscar goes to get her medicine and food and a real heating pad (he is genuinely surprised their flat doesn’t have one considering 2 of them are professional athletes and 1 is a woman)

(if you could answer this asap because im currently frozen in bed with endo cramps and i had to call my mom so she can come to my place and get medicine out of my cabinets since i can’t walk)

-🪼🪼🪼

jelly baby im so sorry )): wish i could come to ur aide my dear

lando would give the best tummy rubs and be so gentle. he’s definitely the warm bf so his hands feel amazing and he’d probably talk to distract her, or pepper kisses all over her face and tell her he’s sorry she’s in pain. she’d muffle the screams into his chest and he wants to cry bc no one should ever be in that much pain, much less his darling girl. very relieved when oscar finally gets back and is like, “oh thank god you’re back. what took so long ??? give me the things now.” and they’re rushing to unpack a heating pad and give her meds and water to take them with.

oscar would def pour beans or rice into a sock and microwave it so she has something to help while he runs to the store!! it’s a trick he learned from his mom growing up. he buys like six heating pads because they have so many different ones in different sizes, and they’ll get used so he doesn’t feel bad about overconsumption. gets so so many snacks in case she has any cravings and lots of hydrating drinks. gets a few pairs of fluffy socks and a new fluffy throw. buys like four different pain meds bc he doesn’t know which is the strongest and goes down the bath aisle and buys bath bombs and epsom salts because a hot bath might help too, if they’re able to get her to the bathroom without causing her too much pain.

#ask #🪼anon #ln4/op81

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reddraven · 1 month ago

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I had a really intense scene with my dom last night that ended abruptly with no aftercare because his legs hurt. How would you cope with this? How would you come back down to earth and into your body? I’m also feeling sad that this is probably the end of our kink relationship cause it doesn’t feel safe to play if there’s a chance I won’t get any aftercare.

Hey! Sorry it took me a bit to see this, I had some major stress in my life recently.

I'm sorry that happened to you. I agree that I wouldn't feel safe playing with someone who doesn't prioritize aftercare.

While your partners *should* always engage in aftercare with you, it's helpful to keep a care plan on hand for yourself. For example, I know I experience a lot of muscle soreness, and a lot of depression when I'm in drop, so my care plan typically involves an Epsom salt bath followed by snuggling into a comfy blanket wearing my favorite hoodie and cuddling with my bunny plushies. I make sure to get snacks and water during this time too so that I can regain my strength faster.

Your needs will differ, but I'd say start with the basics. Water. Food. Treating bruises, injuries, etc.

Then move to comfort items. Favorite movies. Soft clothes.

Treat yourself like you would a friend, and remember that it's okay to cry and hurt and feel your feelings for as long as you need to.

Sending love and kindness your way 💗🩷🩷

#bd/sm aftercare #ask #kink safety

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earthry · 1 year ago

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First of all, I wanted to say how much I love your writing! Every time I see that you posted something its easily one of the highlights of my day!

If I may, could I maybe ask how would the Papas handle someone who suffers from chronic pain, especially back pain? If you dont want to answer thats ofc fine too!! Thank you :)

Thank you so much!! I'm very happy to hear I can brighten someone's day with my work <3

Here you go, please enjoy!

sfw, hurt/comfort, fluff, disclaimer: writing with my own experience with chronic pain, other's experiences may be different.

Primo

This old man knows exactly how it feels to have aches and pains-- though your afflictions are not the same, he does understand. The two of you help each other on your bad days, it's very sweet. If it's a rough day for you, he will help you with anything you have trouble with using your mobility. If your back pain makes it hard to be up, he'll bring everything to you. Vice versa when he's having a bad day, you'll be the one to assist him (and if it's so bad that he can't tend to the garden that day, you'll go do it for him for his peace of mind).

If you're both having a bad day? It's a day in bed and you take your medication together with fancy little wine glasses (filled with water only-- don't mix meds with alcohol). He'll break out your matching heating pads and put your favorite show on the TV in your bedroom. Primo calls one of his brothers to make sure the garden is tended to for the day.

If you have wrist pain and have trouble opening things, well probably don't ask Primo because peepaw's strength ain't too much better. Both of you go begging to Secondo to open your jars and if it's a cheat day and you're using canned pasta sauce (which Primo only accepts when making it from scratch is too much for the two of you), you'll go to one of the ghouls to open it instead least Secondo bites your heads off.

TLDR your entire relationship is built on love and understanding and helping each other when the occasion arises. You never judge each other for what you can do one day and can't do the next. Support, encouragement, and communication are very important to the two of you.

Secondo

Secondo is a menace with his credit card. He will buy you everything and anything that could and can help your chronic pain. He's not the best at emotional comfort but he tries to support you and care for you in the ways he knows how to. And that includes buying you countless muscle rubs, heating pads and cushions, bath soaks and soaps, massage guns, braces and wraps, so many rolls of athletic tape, and anything else that may help.

Of course it's way more than you need but he will insist that he is stocking you up just in case you need it someday. You almost feel like one of those coupon moms that buy things in bulk.

Very good with his hands and an expert at kneading the tension from your body. Even if your chronic pain doesn't flair every day, he'll make it a routine to give you a massage every night before bed.

Speaking of routines, he'll run you a hot bath every night (unless you're not feeling like it) and add epsom salt plus the essential oils he got from Primo that are supposed to help your muscles relax. He'll make sure you get a good soak in and slowly wash your hair for you, lathering expensive shampoo in your hair and massaging your scalp.

Once you're all clean and ready for bed, he'll give you your massage while you doze in bed. If you have a cream that helps relieve muscle pain or something similar, he'll often use that while he rubs your back or anywhere needed. You're often fast asleep by the time he's done and he'll give you a good night forehead kiss before sliding into bed to join you.

Terzo

My favorite HC for Terzo is that his love language is acts of service. Physically showing you that he loves you, cares about you. It ties into the fact that these are all things he wishes someone would love him enough to do too (and you do).

He knows cooking is strenuous for you on bad pain days; that's why he's always willing to drop everything to make you a decent meal. He'll bring it to you no matter where you are, and even on days that you might be able to cook he'll want to do it for you anyways. He pulls out his most beloved recipes for you and makes your favorites.

Sometimes you'll sit in the kitchen with a heated blanket and some pillows that Terzo has brought in to help you be comfier, just to keep him company. As long as your pain is bearable enough to move to the kitchen, you try to be there just as much as he does for you. You can see from the expression on his face the first time you drag your achey body from your room to the kitchen that he's starstruck. It means a lot to him when you take the time to be there with him. Of course, he fusses over you to make sure you're not in pain and not pushing yourself by moving all the way there. He will smother you in love and care.

He may be very talented with his fingers (wink wink) but this man has no idea how to give a good massage; in fact he's often too afraid that he will hurt you by pushing or pressing on you too hard. But he does his best! He watches some youtube tutorials and looks up how-to's online. Be patient with him and he will slowly become an expert at it. He's very proud of himself the first time you absolutely melt under his hands, the pain easing just a little. Of course it won't fix everything but in the moment it feels so nice.

Copia

He's very worried at first; he doesn't know about the chronic pain and at the beginning he's worried that something is very very wrong and tries to urge you to see a doctor (or two or three because your man is a worryrat).

You soothe him and reassure him that nothing serious is wrong-- whatever issue you have that is causing your chronic pain is either already taken care of or being addressed. There's nothing you can do about it right now.

Does anything he can to help alleviate your pain. Helps massage your back or wrist or where ever you may need it. He'll buy heating pads for you and those cute little stuffed animals that have a pouch for a heating pack (or that you microwave to heat up).

Gets sad sometimes especially when he's done everything he can and the only thing he can't do is directly take the pain way (by the unholy lord does he wish he could though).

Sometimes you catch him looking distraught when you're laying in bed or having trouble with something and you call him over to reassure him that you're okay. Sure you're hurting, but you don't want your loved ones around you to hurt too, not when they don't need to.

He loves you so much, does anything he can to help. Sometimes you're afraid of asking for too much or that he'll get tired of taking care of you but he never does and he will remind you every day that he loves you and loves taking care of you because he wants you happy and safe. There is no such thing as asking for too much for him.

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radiantteacup · 1 year ago

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Albedo for nsfw alphabet?

✧.*Orgasm, vulgar language, mentions of gentle sex, male masturbation, Oral, just generally dirty, but everything is consensual ofc!

༊*·˚ This one probably has some hot takes, but this is just how I perceive him!

˗ˏˋFeaturing ´ˎ˗ Albedo Kreideprinz

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Albedo prioritizes your comfort. He's the type to immediately clean you up after sex. He'll run you a nice warm bath, maybe even putting some lavender scented Epsom Salt in there to soothe your muscles. He probably wont get in the bath with you however, opting to sit outside the tub and help you wash yourself up.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His : His favorite body part on himself is probably his hands. He loves how much pleasure he can bring you just by using his hands, whether it be to pound his fingers into your warm cunt until you cum, or to choke you while he splits you open on his cock. <3

Yours: He loves your thighs. When he's exhausted from climbing up and down Dragonspine nothing is better than falling asleep on the soft flesh of your thighs, and when he's fucking his fat cock into your tight little pussy he loves watching the way they bounce with the rough slap of his hips against your ass.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He LOVES the way your body looks covered in his warm cum. The sight of the milky substance covering your soft tummy drives him nuts!

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He'll never admit it, but when you decide to take control, demanding he get you off by whatever means necessary, it really turns him on. The indignant gleam in your eyes as you point to the ground between your spread legs, insisting he eat you out, makes his cock twitch in his pants.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I don't see Albedo being very experienced before you meet him. Most of what he knows it stuff he's learned through rendezvous with you. When you first start dating and having sex, he's clumsy, not to sure what to do, but don't worry, he's a fast learner!

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes having you beneath him in classic doggy. His strong hands will hold your waist as his hips and balls smack against your ass. His head is thrown back, moans escaping his pretty lips, and if he's particularly sensitive that day you might even see a few pleasurable tears slips down his plump cheeks.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He doesn't talk or joke much during sex, he's too focused on bringing you both pleasure.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

His pubes are a darker blonde than the rest of his hair. He trims it regularly, but its still a little messy down there, however he's very clean.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Albedo can be VERY romantic during sex, for him it truly is a expression of love. He's relatively vanilla because of this, he just wants to make both of you feel good, because he loves you so much.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn't jack off very frequently, I think. He strikes me as the kinda guy with a low libido, and when he does get horny it's normally because you've done something to turn him on. That being said, he does pleasure himself every once in a while.

Albedo had been stuck up in DragonSpine for some weeks now, the weather had been particularly harsh recently leaving him unable to trek down the mountains. He misses you, he hasn't seen or spoken to you since he got up here, no bird could handle the weather conditions for long enough to send you a letter. He finds himself incredibly frustrated by week three. He wants to feel your hands on him again, and wants to hold you too. He's uncertain how long it will be until he see's you again, and the portraits he'd been painting of you while stuck weren't cutting it anymore. Late one night, after a particularly erotic dream he just can't help himself anymore. He slips one of his hands into his boxers, pulling his cock from its restraints. He closes his eyes, leaning his head back he imagines his hand is your own. He desperately fists his cock, just trying to get to his high, ashamed enough as it is. His lab is filled with the sounds of him thrusting up into his hand, wet squelching sounds permeating the air around him. He pulls his shirt up between his teeth, watching as precum dribbles from his flushed cock head. Quiet moans escape between the fabric as his orgasm approaches, creeping up on him. His eyes drift to his most recent painting of you, your gorgeous smile staring back at him as he whimpers. He throws his head back as a rough wave of euphoria crashes into him. His warm ropes of cum cover his hand and stomach, thick drops falling onto his lap as he tries to catch his breath.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Like I said before he's pretty vanilla, focusing more on the romantic aspect of sex. However, he has a weak spot for some light choking, he likes it because it shows that you trust him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He LOVES to fuck you in his lab. His experiments are his adventures, and experimenting with your body it no different. That being said he also enjoys the usual places, such as in bed or in the bath.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He lives for the build up. A candle lit dinner at your favorite restaurant, followed by a soothing bath, and there's no better ending to a beautiful night than a round or two of beautiful love making.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He refuses to actually hurt you in any way. He loves you, and greatly fears ever doing anything that could bring you harm, this includes any kind of painful bedroom play.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

I think he prefers receiving, he thinks you look so pretty on your knees for him. It's a vulnerable and precarious position, so the fact that you enjoy doing this for him makes his heart flutter,

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He prefers slower, more sensual sex. He wants to bask in every moment of pleasure with you, pressing kisses to your face and whispering how much he loves you in between them.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not a huge fan, but is done for it every once in a while, however only if you initiate it. He'll never ask you for a quicky, he doesn't like to rush his time with you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Not really a risk taker, prefers to play it safe. He has two assistants and a little girl who are constantly seeking him out, he would be mortified if you two were ever caught, especially if it's Klee.

He's down to experiment, but probably only if you're asking to.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Prefers just one or two rounds, not really a marathon sex kinda guy. One or two to make sure you're both satiated it perfect to him.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Doesn't mind if you own or use them, but he doesn't own or use any himself. Not his kinda play.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Not super into teasing you, but thinks it's attractive when you tease him, he loves the chase.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He tries to muffle most of his noises, but he's a moaner for sure. They're lower moans, but still definitely still moans.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He finds you most beautiful when you're just comfortable, for example, when you're lazing around the house in a baggy shirt and oversized sweat pants. It shows him you're comfortable with him, and that makes him want to love you, to show you he loves you no matter what.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Has a lot of lean muscle, not bulky, doesn't have abs just those like two lines on both sides of his stomach yk? He's not super thick, but it's got decent length, like 5.5 inches hard. His shaft is pretty and pale, and his tip is a pretty peach pink.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Like I said, he has a relatively low libido. Like sex like once a week after a long work week, but probably will only initiate it himself after like two.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not very soon after, he cleans you up first and foremost. When you're both clean, he likes to just hold you in his arms, maybe even with you cockwarming him, while he basks in your presence.

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