#hot and sour soup sounds really good right now

[crabsnpersimmons]

Your have you eaten boys keep cooking for us, I want to cook for them!

It may not be nearly as skillful as what they can make but hopefully they’ll still enjoy what I’ve made!

Oh wait… they can’t eat.

But they can still taste! Hopefully they’ll still enjoy the food!

I’ve made my specialties! Pot roast, and banana cream pie!

(I went looking for actual photos of the last time I made these and I could only find a photo of the last time I made hot and sour soup. I get so caught up in getting to eat the food I forget to take pictures! But here’s that soup photo just for fun.)

OUGH thank you so much for sharing your cooking, Robin!! these look SUPER yummy and the boys would love it. they are able to eat too, so they'd happily enjoy your cooking 🥰

also i can totally relate to getting so caught up in eating food that i also forget to take pictures. "camera eats first?" no, i eat first 😂

today is actually canadian thanksgiving so these would be great for a thanksgiving potluck!

happy canadian thanksgiving y'all! i'm thankful for all of you and the wonderful community we have in the dca fandom!!

[nana-au]

not sure if your taking requests but if you are may I request nanami x freader who fakes being sick just so kento takes time off work to take care of her and have him all to herself. he catches onto it and makes his day off worth while by having her 🍆 drunk the whole day 😉

Absolutely! 🫶🫶

I love how sweet Bf! Kento is hehee... I hope this lived up to your expectations. Thank you so much for sending in a request! I’m a little nervous because I’m not sure I can write him right but I hope this is on par enough :cry: 

Feeling Sick? I'll take care of you...

Kento Nanami ♡

MDNI

₊˚ପ⊹ Summary: Your doting boyfriend Kento doesn’t want to call your bluff about being sick. He’d rather tease the truth out of you!

₊˚ପ⊹ Warnings: p in v, unprotected sex, nipple play, orgasm denial, light spanking, cumming in your mouth, somnophilia, fingering, f! receiving oral, creampie, slight breeding kink (who is surprised i’m obsessed), not proofread </3

₊˚ପ⊹ wc: 3.2k

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

BF! Kento who never answers personal calls at work unless it is your name on his phone. “Hey sweet girl, everything okay?” he answers, keeping his volume low causing his deep voice to go even deeper. You could get dizzy off of his voice alone, it only solidified what needed to be done. If you didn’t miss him so much you would feel guilty for the lie you were about to spin – but you hadn’t seen your boyfriend all week because of the overtime he was putting in at his job. It was a desperate move – but if hamming up a cold was what it took; You would do anything to spend time with him. “Kento.. I don’t feel so good. Could you come home…” you made sure your throat was dry to sound raspy and even threw in a pathetic cough at the end. 

BF! Kento who asks his boss for the rest of the day off without a second thought. You were his everything and he knew just how big of a baby you were when it came to getting sick. He would do anything to make sure you were taken care of – both physically and mentally. 

BF! Kento who comes home to find you in your shared bed under a mountain of covers. He pulls them back and plants a kiss to your exposed forehead, rubbing your hair soothingly. “What doesn’t feel good?” he coos at you. It almost hurts how concerned he looks. “My throat hurts,” you tell him, making sure to frown and scrunch your brows. “I’m sorry, baby. Let’s go take your temperature,” he begins to pull back the covers. “I-I already took it. It’s 101,” you tell him – a little too quickly. You can see his face go blank as he thinks over what you said. He knew you well… too well. You would never take your own temperature – always too scared to know the answer. It wasn’t hard for you to admit you feel sick but having it confirmed was another thing entirely. It would sour your mood. You always let Nanami take care of you. Always. He wordlessly touches your forehead with the back of his hand and you swallow thickly trying to read his face. You hoped trying to overheat yourself with all the blankets you brought into bed would work in making your forehead hot. All it did now was make you sweat as your boyfriend studies your figure over. If he has anything to say he keeps it to himself.

BF! Kento who diligently cuts up the carrots for your soup. The anxiety you felt over how silent he became was bad enough you really did think you needed Nanami – you hadn’t felt this sick in a while! You kept sneaking peeks from the couch as you watched him prepare your lunch. His face was expressionless except for the focus he put into sauteeing the vegetables and measuring out the seasonings. While you swallowed down your nerves you had to appreciate how delicious your boyfriend looked. He had a kitchen towel slung over his shoulder that he used to wipe his hands on while he cooked – his button down shirt missing his work tie and exposing his upper chest. “Feeling okay, sweet girl?” he asks you when he catches you looking. You meekly nod, trying to put on a show. 

BF! Kento who rubs your feet as you eat the lunch he made you. It was torture being under his diligent touch. He watched you intently – preferring to study you in silence as you ate. His strong thumbs massaged deeply into the arch of your right foot, releasing all the tension. “I know how sore you feel when you get sick,” his eyes lock onto yours, “Do your legs or arms hurt more, baby?” You choke out something that you hoped sounded like legs and he gets to work. It’s nothing short of professional the way his hands turn you into putty. You always tease him about how he must have been a masseuse in his past life – but it didn’t feel right to crack a joke at this moment. His gaze on you was intense as he studied the pleasure written on your face. The bowl of soup was abandoned on the end table as you embraced his powerful fingers. He slowly worked his way up your lower extremities, taking his time with the tight muscles in your calves. You felt yourself melt into the couch under his touch, too relaxed to open your eyes. He rubs the pit of your knee in slow circles before reaching up to your thighs, digging his thumbs in deep. You’re blissed out as you feel him shift closer, moving up even further. He turns your right leg out, tickling the inside of your thigh with a feather light touch before applying more pressure. You open your eyes and he’s still watching your face. “Feel good?” he asks you. Nodding, you bite your lip at the dangerous tingle in your tummy at the feeling of him touching your sensitive inner thigh. If he noticed you biting your bottom lip – and Kento is observant he definitely noticed – he pretends not to and continues on to the other side. He is almost at the point where your thighs and torso meet and you have to use all your strength not to wriggle around at the intense pleasure building. Kento loved watching you pretend like he wasn’t turning you on and he loved pretending he wasn’t aware of how sensitive your thighs were. He rubbed his thumb dangerously close to your pussy lips covered by your pajama shorts multiple times, humming to himself as he worked your ‘sore’ body. Trying to keep still was becoming impossible, jolting every time his digits almost went right where you needed them. “You okay?” he asks you, his knuckle ‘accidentally’ rubbing up against your heat as he squeezed the fat of your inner thigh. When you don’t respond because the only thing that would surely come out is a moan, he chirps up, “I think it’s time to run your bath.”

BF! Kento who never planned to have you soak alone. You were leaned up against him in the tub, keeping still as he ran his hands over your thighs – making sure the soaking salts made your body nice and smooth. They came up to your stomach, rubbing your skin lightly and he kissed the side of your head. “I know just how to take care of you... Hmm?” he questioned and you nodded. “Thank you,” you told him and he smiled into your hair. His good little girl always used her manners. His big hands came up to your chest, massaging your breast unexpectedly. “Something wrong?” he asks when you jump from his touch. “N-no,” you spit out. 

BF! Kento who knows your body so well. He rubs one hardened bud between his thumb and forefinger, the other hand still squeezing the fat of your other breast. He’s unabashedly groaning into your ear, “So plump. Fits just right in my hand,” his lips are smiling against your ear lobe. You’re really wiggling under his touch but he still doesn’t comment on it. 

BF! Kento who isn’t even hiding the fact that his massage has turned into groping. He’s pinching your nipple and running his hot tongue against your ear. The wet sounds of his mouth are overwhelmingly loud and incredibly sexy. His other hand is pulling apart your thighs so he can slip his knee in between yours – keeping your legs wide open. “Maybe if I play with your clit you’ll feel a little better,” he ponders out loud and you’re agreeing with him. “I don’t know though… might be a little too intense for my sick girl,” you were going to explode if he did not touch you. “No I’ll be okay,” you promise and he clicks his tongue. “I don’t know… I’m not convinced it won’t be too much,” your knuckles must be white from how hard you’re gripping the tub. “I’ll be fine,” you plead and it comes out desperate and needy and definitely from a girl who is feeling perfectly fine. 

BF! Kento who makes you admit you lied about being sick just to spend time with him. He’s not mad. He could never be mad at you. Not when you’re making those pretty noises for him. Your clit is so sensitive against the rough pad of his finger. Your moans are just whines and he goes just the right speed for you. “You’re gonna have to make my time off worthwhile,” he sternly informs you. 

BF! Kento who makes you take him for the rest of the day. If he was going to tend so diligently to you for your little lie, it was only fair you treated him just as well. That’s why after you came on his fingers in the bath, you had to ride him with no assistance. It was easy at first – you eased yourself onto his long cock while he laid back with his arms crossed behind his head. Your hands leaned against his toned stomach for support as you guided yourself up and down his length. It wasn’t long before you found a good pace, dragging him against your walls and reaching the spot in you that made you dizzy. You were getting so wet watching him watch you take him all by yourself, fucking yourself with his dick. “Lean back baby, wanna see it better,” he mumbled. If you weren’t already blissed out it would be shocking how composed he was. You did as he asked, using your hands to prop yourself against his thighs. You pulled slowly out before sinking back down onto him, feeling his tip hit the spot inside you that could make you cry. You shook as you continued, trying hard not to cum from how good the angle felt. “Nanami… feels…t’good like this,” you mewled. You were pouting, begging for him to be satisfied with what he saw. “Just a few more times,” he promised, “Just love to watch my cock disappear in you.” 

BF! Kento who scolds you when you cum again – but he’s not actually mad. He could never be mad at you. Your cunt fluttered around his cock as you came, still fucking yourself onto him to make sure you held up your end of the bargain. “K-kentooo,” you were breathless and feeling weak from your second orgasm. “I need help,” you plead. It was hard to keep up the pace he liked. “You’re doing just fine, sweet girl,” he assured you – still not tired of watching your slick coat his cock with each drag of your hips. You continued to take him shakily, building up the same pleasure as fast as it went. His long cock hit the perfect spot in your gummy walls, tip kissing it each time you sunk down onto him. You were slowing down, allowing him to watch you take every inch of him before pulling back up for his length to reappear all shiny with your juices. You didn’t want to come again but the slow pace was driving Nanami mad with want. 

BF! Kento who decides it's time for a new position. He’s got you trapped underneath him while you’re laid down on your stomach – back arched so he reaches right where you need him to. If he didn’t remind you with every squeeze of your cunt that you were meant to make him cum – you would have completely lost yourself again. You already came twice and you were supposed to be making it up to him! You needed to be a good girl and wait your turn. “Hold it,” he told you, almost like a warning. It was evil the way he pounded into you. Him and you both knew he could go for hours like this, too satisfied with the way you were squeezing him to ever want it to end. The pillow your face was in was wet with tears. “Na-Na-Mi” you said each syllable as his hips slapped into you, his body trapping yours underneath it. Your cute little cunt squeezed again at a particularly hard thrust and he pulled out to deliver a firm smack to your cheek. You cried an apology into the pillow. “I cum next,” he tells you and you’re promising him you understand. He pulls your hips off the bed and aligns himself back up with your empty pussy. “You’re doing this for me. You’re taking me so well because you lied,” he reminds you before easing back in. “You don’t cum again until I cum, okay? No matter how good it feels.” You hiccup, telling him you’ll hold it. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to be commanding in the bedroom but he was always so gentle with you – treating you like a princess. It was a little shocking (and incredibly hot) how dominant he was. His pace quickly matched his previous one and once again you were hyper aware of how difficult it was becoming to ignore the building pleasure. “You were so naughty – calling me out of work,” he scolds you, relentlessly pounding your poor pussy. “Gotta let your tight pussy make it up to me,” you’re apologizing into the pillow, getting drowned out by the vulgar sounds coming from your wet cunt as your bodies meet. “She’s such a good little girl,” he coos, referring to the way your pussy is hugging his cock like a perfect little cock sleeve. You’re sweating from the effort it’s taking you to focus on not coming undone. Especially with the way he’s talking to you. 

BF! Kento who decides he wants needs to cum in your mouth. You’re grinding your teeth trying to keep it inside while he’s fucking deliciously into you – and thankfully he’s starting to lose control. In between his moans he’s chastising your pretty lips for lying with such ease. “Gonna have to teach that lying mouth a lesson,” he warns you, “Gonna cum in your mouth.” He grabs at your face, squeezing your cheeks and turning you towards him. He pumps in your cunt a few more times before pulling out and releasing messily into your mouth and face. You don’t fight it, swallowing any part that reaches your mouth. 

BF! Kento who kisses you all over, thanking you for being so good. He checks that you’re okay and to make sure you know he’s not actually upset with you. “You can always tell me when you need me, baby. I’m sorry for taking so much overtime. This weekend you have me all to yourself. I promise.” You don’t get to cum again but you’re okay with it. You were extremely worn out and after he cleaned you up you didn’t stand a chance – falling right to sleep.

BF! Kento who knows you deserve one more orgasm. You didn’t think he’d forget, did you? This time he was going to be nice and sweet. Take his time playing with your pretty little pussy. A couple hours had passed and you were still sound asleep, laying all pliant and ready for him. You were still naked from earlier so all he had to do was pull the covers back to expose your puffy lips. You looked so peaceful while you slept, your beautiful figure perfectly on display for him. He slid his finger down your slit – unsurprisingly you were not wet. He went to work just ghosting your clit, not wanting to wake you yet. He rubbed slow circles, studying your sleeping face. Your eyebrows scrunched and your nose twitched – but you were still asleep. He tested his tongue on you, taking one small kitten lick on your clit. When you didn’t wake he continued his ministrations, slowly licking your nub. He was swirling his tongue, growing less hesitant as time passed. He teased his finger at your entrance, tracing along the sides before sucking lightly on your clit. You stirred a little, but you weren’t quite awake yet. He pushed his forefinger in only to the first joint, continuing to suck and kiss your clit. You were whimpering, still asleep but aware of the pleasure. Your hips moved a little and your hand came up to rub your face. By the time you woke up his finger was curled deep inside you and lips attached to your nub, sucking feverously. Your hands grabbed ahold of his blonde locks, pushing his face down into you. “Kento… f-fuck,” you cried out. He was slurping up all the arousal leaking out of you, flicking his tongue on your bud. You definitely got the orgasm you deserved. 

BF! Kento who needs to feel your pussy one more time – and you’re too drunk on his cock to ever deny him. He’s fucking you slowly in missionary, his eyes full of love as he watches you drool at the feeling of his long cock drag against your walls. You look so good, completely entranced and sickly in love with the way his dick stretches you perfectly. You wouldn’t need any convincing in this moment to stay like this for life, trapped in by his strong body and taking his cock in any way he gives it to you. “You’re so beautiful,” he reaches up to squeeze the fat of your rosy cheek. He’s telling the truth when he swears he has never seen a woman so stunning. “Taking my cock like you were made for it,” you can only nod at his words. “You were made for me? Hmm?” he asks you and you’re nodding again. He knows you’re barely all there but that only makes him more turned on. “Made to take my cum.. Fuck,” his pace is still awfully slow but you’re just happy he’s inside of you. He’s feeling so in love with you – and stupidly pussy whipped. “Can’t imagine anyone else as perfect as you,” he’s reaching down to slowly toy with your clit and you’re leaking onto the sheets. “‘This what you needed, sweet girl?” You’re nodding. It’s all you ever need. “Gonna need my cum too?” Again you’re nodding and he’s picking up the pace little by little. You’re arching your back, pressing your chest against his and grabbing his shoulders. Trying anything to feel close to him while he rocks back and forth into you. Your whimpers and moans only make him go faster and he’s grunting in your ear at each thrust that reaches deep inside you. “Gotta make sure I get as deep as I can, baby,” he says, taking your legs and hooking them over his shoulders. Now you’re begging him to fuck you harder, the new angle reaching dangerously deep inside you. “Think this will work? This deep ‘nuff? ‘This gonna give me a baby, hmm?” He reaches down to your clit and you’re coming at his confession. You can’t think of a man more worthy of you carrying his children than Kento. 

[tummieaching]

hey it's ✉️, sorry about the delay, this is the second part of what happened the day I had to go to the post office 🤭

(Two). [cw for brief p1ss mention] Home now. Oh my god. I could barely function when I got to the front of the queue, my mind was just racing with "I think I'm going to puke, I'm going to be sick etc.", then I actually gagged when I was talking to the cashier and she asked if I was ok and did the signature for me so I could get out of there. I was so embarrassed.

It's hot and I started feeling so dizzy walking home so I drank a little water, and as soon as I swallowed it came straight back up, with a little of the milky stuff mixed in, I didn't even have time to move and it came out all over my t shirt and some on my leg. I don't think anyone saw. I sat on the grass for a few minutes because I was sure it was all coming up then, but I think maybe the shock and embarrassment kept it in because I just kept salivating and getting waves of dizziness (didn't dare drink more water), so eventually I got up and slowly managed to get home.

The smell of the puke on my t shirt was making me want to just bend over and heave but I made it. I was shaking when I finally closed the door behind me and went straight to the bathroom with a towel, my water bottle and the second glass of green tea which had steeped to a very dark colour. I was still feeling awful but turned on about all of this.

Since I already threw up on myself I left my clothes on and sat in the shower. I started reading stories on here that other people wrote about themselves being sick and hoped it would help me release my own stomach. It turned me on more and I rolled up a second towel and sat with it between my legs, rocking and starting to salivate as the motion irritated my stomach. I let the saliva run out of my open mouth down my chin and started to say things out loud about how sick I felt and how I needed to get it all up. Then the dizziness hit me hard and I had to lean against the wall to stay upright. I moaned a little and told myself I just needed to let it come and be sick and then I would feel better.

I grabbed the tea and drank it, it was cold so I could drink it very fast. It was incredibly bitter and as soon as I finished the cup I could feel it coming back up. I always get a bit scared right before I throw up so I told myself, let it come, get it up and before I could even finish a stream of sick gushed up out of me and splashed in the shower. I couldn't move because I was trying not to faint so it got in the cup, all over my legs and socks and part of the towel. I burped and retched and gasped for breath and then got sick again, this time it was soft, milky sludge that felt foamy in my throat and landed quietly on my chest. It moved really slowly in my throat and made me gag hard again.

The towel felt warm and I realised I had pissed a little as I gagged. The waves of retching came again and again and I got desperately, loudly, uncontrollably sick all over myself, this time it was like a thick soup with berry pieces. The chunkier stuff was sitting a slimy pool in my lap. I told myself I was doing a good job to calm me down because I didn't have anyone there to help me.

Next time I heaved so hard I had to grip the shower rail, it was gurgly and sounded much deeper than my usual voice and I brought up a big puddle of thick slightly darker coloured vomit that felt heavy as it settled in the pool on my top. It was sour and had pieces of pastry which, when I felt them sticking to the roof of my mouth, made my eyes roll back and I threw up again and soaked the towel. One memorable moment was when I tried to soothingly call myself a good girl but as I was saying "girl" I was violently sick so it came out as "good blbleeeuuuurghle" lol.

This carried on for about 40 mins and towards the end I was just burping and burping and every few burps I'd bring up a blob of rice pudding into my mouth and have to spit it out. It was a bit more intense than I planned but really hot.

The only issue is that now I've puked so much, my stomach is very sensitive and will be for hours - I vomited a bit of water while writing this just from my own descriptions and then when I was cleaning it up, another glob of rice pudding sick came up out of nowhere (I just managed to lean over the edge of the sofa in time to let it up onto the floorboards). I have a bowl with me now because I'll probably keep having these small sudden vomits for another few hours but I'm going to try to settle my stomach with mint tea.

Thank you very much for telling us your story here ... it's very arousing to read, I'm proud of you for getting it all up like that, I bet you felt so much better afterward ... the puddle in your lap oh goodness, it must have been warm for a little while ... and wow, you peed yourself too ♡ I would have loved to help you get it up ... your poor sensitive belly, I hope that bowl serves you well ♡

I'm rubbing myself reading this, sitting in front of the toilet myself, I hope it will help me puke soon ... I'm going to read it again after I post this ♡

[cyberphuck]

I ate decent today (ham sandwiches) but I'm craving Chinese food and chips really bad. Hot and sour soup and greasy chow mein sound so good right now. I would kill a man for a bag of ruffles.

My body is craving salts and fats I guess

[phantomrose96]

Joyrider

(Welcome to another warm-up writing piece. cw for mild body horror)

...

The mall food court doubled rather nicely as a battle-dome.

It fit the bill: a flat and circular arena, crowned two-stories up by a hemisphere of glass windows which lapsed iridescent in the maelstrom of ecto-fire.

Spectator chairs sat empty, hastily shoved back and knocked over by the Amity Park mall patrons who knew to leg it at the first sound of explosions and the first sign of the atmosphere tipping dark. Admittedly, the patron evacuation took longer than Danny anticipated, and he backed himself into a corner playing defense for the 50 some-odd people who, worn-out on the every-day mundanity of ghost alarms, took their time gathering belongings, or shutting off burners, or working in a few last bites of a burger.

So with the crowd gone and the stage their own, Danny found himself pressed back against a vat of french fry oil, hands braced against the handle of a broom he held out horizontally, which the ghost gripped with equal measure and shoved her full weight against.

“Oh, why not take a little dip, Ghost Boy? I hear the water’s nice.”

“No thanks,” Danny answered, shoving harder. “I never was much of a hot tub guy. You on the other hand—”

Danny set a foot forward and pivoted, body fueling the torque as he spun the broom, and tore the ghost with him, a pirouette to swap their spots and jam the ghost back-pressed to the fryer.

“—you seem like you’d like it hot.”

The ghost barked a laugh, jaw stretching lower and loose than Danny was comfortable with.

“Ha! You sure? Not very heroic of you to deep fry this girl I’m possessing.”

Danny faltered. His grip slipped. His blood chilled to ice as the information clicked in place – as he recognized the sensation of a ghost talking through someone. This wasn’t the ghost’s own form. This was some girl. How had he not felt—

A blast took him by the ribs. Danny doubled over, immediately kicked back. A foot found contact with his face, driving him down, until the girl’s wet and slippery fingers pinned him down by the wrists.

Danny strained. He could pivot his wrist a fraction of an inch left or right, but he could not break the hold.

“Get off me!”

And a voice answered from behind him.

“I can help with that.”

Danny craned his neck. Upside down, vantage point from the floor, he registered Sam’s combat boots slam into focus. She bent to one knee, a bazooka locked on the other. It charged, whined, and erupted with an explosion of green light.

The ghost shrieked. It took only an instant of resistance before the ghost tore cleanly from the girl possessed.

“Now if you don’t mind me—” Tucker, by the voice. Danny heard the whine of a Fenton Thermos heating up. “—I’d officially like to change my order from fries to soup.”

The beam burst forth, and the writhing, shrieking, yelping form of the exorcised ghost clawed and scratched in Danny’s direction before the thermos consumed her in full.

“Really? ‘Fries to soup’? Even Danny can do better than that.”

“Hey,” Danny answered.

“I was thinking on my feet, Sam. I didn’t hear any witty quips from you.”

The conversation fell away from Danny’s focus as the full human weight of the possessed girl dropped down on him. Gently, Danny gripped her by the shoulder, lifting her as he pushed himself into a sitting position.

“Your parents’ anti-possession gear is getting good. I don’t think I’ve seen an exorcism work that quickly.” Sam’s voice, now at his side. Danny glanced over, finding her kneeling beside him. “Is she hurt?”

Danny gave the girl a once-over. She was pale, cold, lips seeping blue. A mottled, blackish bruise spread across her temple, partially hidden beneath loose red bangs.

“I don’t… totally know. I didn’t land any hits on her, thankfully. But who knows what that ghost might have done. We should call an ambulance.”

“On it,” Tucker, from behind.

“Do you… do you think the bazooka might have hurt her?” Sam asked.

Danny shook his head. “Mom and Dad have blasted each other with that thing a hundred times. Dad got himself possessed by the box ghost for a trial run. It doesn’t hurt people. …Maybe she just needs a minute.”

“Lay her down, maybe?”

“Good idea.”

Danny eased forward, careful in his movements. Something about his grip slipped, sliding loose and rolling forward, and she fell unceremoniously from his arms, shoulder knocking ground as she lay there partially turned on her side.

“Danny!”

“Sorry! I didn’t—something slipped!”

“Well don’t leave her like—” Sam gripped a hand to the girl’s shoulder, weight behind her wrist to roll the girl fully onto her back. Sam’s hand froze, and then yanked away.

“What?” Danny asked.

“That didn’t feel right.” Sam only stared down, her hand hovering, twitching in increments. “Way too cold… and loose.”

“Loose?”

“Danny, look at her hands. What’s wrong with her hands?”

Danny looked. The skin stretched and wrapped the bones of her fingers as if rotated partway around. Her fingernails sat off-center, twisted around and bunched up like a glove. Sam’s hand came back into view, and she clamped it to the girl’s wrist.

“It’s like jelly. Danny it’s like jelly. Why is she this cold? Danny, I don’t think she’s—”

Something new caught Danny’s eye, a purple discoloration peeking out from the bottom ruffles of the girl’s shirt. His hands seemed to move on their own as he reached down, and pinched the bottom of her shirt, and pulled it back.

Black bruising consumed her torso, caving deep and bloating, pruning around the trails of heavy stitching that ran along the tracks of surgical cuts carving through her abdomen.

Danny yanked his hand away as if burned.

“Danny, she’s not breathing.”

The rest of Danny’s thoughts drowned in the swelling wail of the approaching ambulance siren.

…

Outside the Fenton Portal, green lighting doused the only part of Danny’s form not hidden in shadow, and danced with the fire of his glowing green eyes. Danny uncapped the thermos in his hand, and he trailed his thumb along the eject switch.

A new consuming green light belted forth, lasting only a moment until it vanished with a twin-braided ghost in its wake. The ghost blinked, smoothing over her hair and pulling the ends of her braids over her shoulders.

“Oh, it’s the Ghost Boy again. I thought you’d just throw me back in the Ghost Zone. Are you interested in a round 2?”

“No, not interested,” Danny answered, tone colder than ice.

“Yeesh, you’re quite sour. No more puns?”

“Why were you possessing that girl?”

“Hmm?”

“Why were you possessing her?”

The ghost blinked, green portal light mixing murkily with her purple eyes. “No particular reason. It was just a joyride.”

“A joyr—she was dead.”

Another blink. “Yeah I know. She was sitting in the morgue. She was in like a car crash or something and they already took all her organs. They didn’t need her. And I was gonna give her back, but you had to go and make it a whole thing.” The girl swooped forward, eyes wide and roving over Danny. “You seem mad. Wanna call a truce?” She stuck a hand forward. “I’m Melissa, by the way.”

Danny jolted, eyes flashing brighter. “No, you’re not. That girl was Melissa.”

“Oh for real?” Melissa let out a chuckle. “Crazy coincidence. I like don’t even know that many Melissas. Anyway truce?”

“No.” Danny ran his fingers through his hair. “You were possessing the body of a dead girl and you made me fight her! Don’t you see how that’s—that’s so—how fucked up—that you’d even—”

“Well I mean, I didn’t make you fight me. You made that happen. I was minding my business.”

“Doing what?”

“Shopping. Why else would I take a body for a joyride? I stole some cute clothes to wear. Stole some food to eat. Oh! That outfit I was wearing when we were fighting? Yeah I picked that out. She was in like a hospital gown when I found her. Super cute improvement right?”

An ectoblast sounded and connected with the wall behind Melissa, missing her a foot to the right. Danny’s hand glowed, and his eyes focused with a razor sharpness.

“Stop talking like that, okay? It’s pissing me off. I need you to tell me you know this was fucked up.”

Melissa put a finger to her chin. “I mean I guess stealing is kinda wrong. They were all like, big box corporate stores don’t worry.”

“The. Dead. Body.”

And Melissa fell silent a moment, violet eyes probing deep into Danny’s before widening. “Oh. Oh you’re like for-real mad about that. Like actually. I thought you were like, making an ironic joke.”

“Why the hell would I be joking about this??”

Melissa cocked her head to the side. “Well because you’re doing it too, duh. Like, duh.”

A huff of air cut against Danny’s teeth, an involuntary noise, incredulous, a guffaw he didn’t consciously make. The jelly sensation of decomposing flesh was back under his fingers. “I am not—would never—I’ve never even seen a dead body before this thing with you and I’d never in a million years even think for even a fucking second that I’d want to possess a dead body. What’s wrong with you?!”

Melissa bobbed a little in the air, ends of her braids trailing over the straps of her ephemeral sundress. “See this is why I really can’t tell if you’re joking or not. What are you talking about? You’re doing it right now.” She clasped her hands behind her back. “The black-haired boy whose corpse you’re possessing. Why are you allowed to do it?”

Danny froze. He laughed, heavy, with an uncomfortable force. “Myself, you mean? I’m not possessing myself. I am myself. I’m a half-ghost.”

Melissa met his laugh. “Oh what? No way like, that’s your own corpse? How’d you even get back to it in time? That’s crazy lucky like you must have died right near a portal or something.”

An involuntary shiver traced down Danny’s spine.

“…I’m not dead.” His eyes shifted around, and Danny dropped to the floor. He set a hand against the wall, throwing on the lights to the Fenton basement. Rings swept around his form, green iridescent eyes sweeping blue, white hair seeping black. “Look. Literally look at me. I’m not dead.”

And Melissa swooped closer. She set a finger to her bottom lip and hovered a foot in front of Danny, drinking him in. She swept to the side, like a swimmer in the water, sweeping around him in a full arc. She edged closer and pinched her fingers against the exposed skin on Danny’s arm. He flinched.

“Oh wow there’s like, not even any decay or anything. Your human brain even feels like it’s working it’s all like, electro-magnety. How long were you dead before you got back to your body?”

“I didn’t die.”

“Then what did happen?”

“I got shocked by the Fenton Portal, okay? It was just a lab accident and it gave me powers.”

“Oh. Oh.” Melissa’s eyes shot wide. “Oh you didn’t die near a portal… You died in a portal. You didn’t even have to get back to find your body at all. You must have appeared like practically on top of your own body. That’s crazy lucky. That’s so lucky. Your body was like, probably only dead a microsecond before you hopped back in. No wonder it’s so well-preserved.”

Danny swatted her away. “You’re not listening to me.”

“You’re not listening to me.” Melissa floated backwards. “What do you think is more likely? A bajillion ecto-volts somehow gave you superpowers that exactly mirror everything a regular dead ghost can do? …Or you died, and became a regular old ghost, and did what any regular old ghost can do, which is possess a freshly-dead dead body?”

“…I’m half-ghost,” Danny answered, human heart pounding in his chest. “I know what I am.”

Melissa bobbed back, feet pointed backwards until the soles of her feet skimmed the matrix of the portal. “I see you’ve made up your mind. That’s alright. But it was still pretty mean of you to accuse me like a big hypocrite like that.”

“I’ll destroy you if you ever try that again.”

“Oh I’ll try asking permission next time okay? Promise.” Melissa’s feet sank into the surface of the portal. “But, before I go, I’ve just got one more question to leave you with.”

“Go.”

“Why should a lethal accident do anything other than kill you?”

“Go.”

“Maybe you’ll have an answer for me next time I see you. Byeee!”

A spark of white erupted from the portal, consuming, absorbing, and fizzling out as Melissa’s form vanished into the ether beyond.

…

“Hey! Yo! Danny, come check this out!”

Danny rounded the stairs, unsocked feet creaking the floorboards with each step. Danny yawned, and blinked, and rubbed at his bruised eyes with the sleeve of his pajama top.

“Still asleep? That’s fine! You don’t have to do anything. Just come over here and look at what your old pop’s been up to.”

Danny entered the living room, where Jack sat hunched on the couch surrounded by an arsenal of power tools, rags, oil, soldering equipment, and scrap metal. From beside him he hefted a bazooka into view.

“This is the Fentonzooka 3.2.17. Amped up and equipped with all the latest in ghost-busting and human-saving technology.”

Danny blinked. “3.2.17?”

“Yep. This baby’s got 17 bug patches, tweaks, and internal improvements since the 3.2.0. The 3.2.0 was the advent of the snack compartment in the side. Look!” Jack spun a dial, revealing a chamber half-filled with pistachios.

Danny only stared.

Jack hefted the bazooka onto his shoulder. “Even better, Mads and I finally got rid of the last little sting humans feel when it’s fired. It’s now completely 100% harmless to humans. It feels like the breeze from a standing fan when it hits ya.” Jack turned, and he aimed the barrel at Danny. “Wanna try it out?”

Danny stood, and Danny stared, and Danny said nothing.

What might happen when it hit him?

Would it hit like the gentle breeze of a fan? Wash over him like air conditioning? Tingle cool and pleasant against his human fingers, human face, human skin?

Would it do something else?

Why should a lethal accident do anything other than kill you?

Jack eased the bazooka a bit off center, pulling his eyes away from the sight. He stared directly at Danny. “Danny?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to try it out?”

Danny stood.

Danny stared.

Danny wondered if he’d have an answer for Melissa the next time he saw her.

[urimaginespimp]

Dare Coupons and Wrong Ideas

2nd and last part of A Naked Nurse and Wrong Ideas (Read this first to know what’s going on)

Bucky x Reader + Avengers still thinking you slept together

A/N: I didn’t expect a lot of you would enjoy the first part so as requested, here’s a follow up!

--------

When you woke up, you were alone in your room, and it was already the next day. You only have small recollections of Bucky constantly checking your temperature, feeding you soup, and making you take medicine.

Your cheeks flushed at the memory that he had to only be in his boxer briefs because your AC had to be off or else you would’ve frozen to death.

Plugging your phone as the battery was about to drain, you saw that it had numerous messages from the team – some were saying congratulations to you and Bucky, Wanda was asking you for details, Sam was thanking you for making him 50 bucks richer, and Tony was saying you owe him money.

You didn’t think finally getting along with Bucky was that big of a deal for everyone. Chuckling, you decided to hop in the shower before getting some breakfast.

--------

“I told you, nothing happened.” Bucky was scowling at Sam who was ignoring him for the nth time that morning.

“I remember you also insisting you didn’t like Star Wars, then I caught you ordering Baby Yoda merchandise on Amazon. So, forgive me if I’d rather hear about what we saw yesterday from your new girlfriend.” Sam smirked, not looking up from his phone.

The rest of the team in the kitchen snickered. They were not giving him the chance to explain himself since he got there. Steve has warned them that he’s prone to lie and get defensive when he’s embarrassed.

Huffing in annoyance like a child, he sunk in his seat thinking of ways he could convince them that he was telling the truth, when you finally appeared.

“Good morning.” You mumbled a small greeting and made your way to the cupboards to get some cereal. He noted that you look a lot better than yesterday, and that you just showered.

Heading to the table, bowl in your hands, Nat gestured for you to sit between her and Wanda, and across from Steve, Clint, and Tony. Taking your seat, you scanned who else was on the long dining table, and your eyes landed on Bucky who was five seats away from Steve, and next to him was Sam, and Peter.

You gave Bucky a small smile as a thank you, mentally noting that you had to thank him personally in private later. But unbeknownst to you, the rest of the team took this as a “moment” and were exchanging meaningful looks, except for Tony.

Bucky returned the smile, grateful that you were finally here to clear things up for everyone and prove that he was telling the truth. But then Sam just had to be a villain.

“Hey tinman. I still have 3 dare coupons from you last Christmas. Now I dare you to keep your mouth shut for the rest of the morning.” He said in a low voice, raising his brows when Bucky was about to protest.

“Fine.” he huffed.

“All’s clear!” Sam said loudly, making you jump a little from your seat. What was that about?

“So... Y/N.” Steve started speaking, making you look up to him. “Bucky, huh? Who knew?”

“I know, right?” you smiled at him. So, you and Bucky finally getting along was that big of a deal for them. Maybe it was for team morale.

Nat cleared her throat before turning to you with a grin. “Sam, Steve, and I went to your room yesterday to check on you after FRIDAY said you haven’t been out of your room all morning. And uh, well a partially dressed Bucky greeted us.”

Looking across you again, Steve, Clint and Tony were also looking at you expectantly. You get how it must’ve been confusing why he had to take care of you in only his boxer briefs.

“Oh, I was actually the one who told him to just take it off. It was just getting too hot for him.” You shrugged and missed how Peter spat milk from his seat, and Sam telling him to keep it together.

“So how was he?” Wanda couldn’t keep herself from sounding too eager to know. You raised a brow in confusion at her but answered.

“Honestly, I didn’t know he could be that gentle.” You thought back to how Bucky was gentle and patient in taking care of you.

“Oh wow.” Wanda responded; eyes wide.  Steve was turning red and was now avoiding making eye contact.

Bucky was smirking from his seat. At first, he thought it was going to be more embarrassing for him, but now he was actually enjoying how the team was torn between wanting to know more, and trying to spare themselves the visuals of their friends going at it.

“How would you uh... rate him.” Wanda asked again, making Vision nudge her for the question.

“Well, it did seem like he knew what he was doing. I’d say he has a lot of experience. I'd give it a ten.” You nodded at her, smiling at the thought of how the brooding guy could’ve once been the main caretaker for his sick siblings.

Bucky coughed to mask him laughter, making Sam glare at him.

“How are you now? Is the soreness gone?” It almost pained Clint to even ask that, but he knew everybody else was dying to ask.

“I’m still a bit sore, and my throat does hurt a little still, but nothing some more rest would get rid of.” you shrugged.

Tony turned his attention to Bucky, glaring. “Might have to ask him for tips then.” Clint replied, clearing his throat.

“There’s a kid here, you guys. Keep it down.” Steve warned all of you, referring to how Peter was also in the room, listening to the entire conversation.

“What, I think Pete here could also get some tips.” You replied. Why wouldn’t Steve want Peter to know how to take care of sick people? It’s not like it’s entirely different from how they do it today.

Sam choked on his toast, and it was now Peter's turn to mockingly tell him to keep it together.

“Let me just ask this. Is this a one-time thing?” It was now Tony’s time to ask. He’s always treated you like a daughter, so he wasn’t a big fan of you and Bucky getting together.

You didn’t think Tony was gonna be mad at you for getting sick. This hurt you a little, but you understand that it was your own stupidity that got you sick in the first place. It would’ve been bad if you had to miss a mission.

“I hope so? I really don’t want to miss any missions because I can barely move any muscles. I’m sorry, Tony.” You gave him a guilty look. “But it’s nice to know I could count on Bucky whenever I need any help.” You continued.

The rest of the team, shifted in their seats from cringing at what you just said.

Sam turned to a smirking Bucky. “You’re disgusting.” he said to him.

You finally turned your attention to Bucky. “Anyway, I never got to thank you this morning because when I woke up you were gone.” you smiled at him.

“WHAT?” Nat spoke loudly from beside you.

“You left before she woke up?!” Tony exclaimed. Steve glared at his friend, disappointed that he’d do such thing. The rest of the team were also scowling at him.

“It’s no big deal you guys, he had to stay up all night.” you defended Bucky, making him shake in his seat from now full-on laughing.

“You think this is funny, Barnes?!” Tony got up from his seat to stalk towards him. You got up as well to diffuse the situation.

“Woah, woah, woah. Why are you guys so mad at him?” you asked, standing beside Bucky who was still losing his shit on his seat.

“We know he’s been crushing on you, but he can’t just sleep with you and leave you like that!” Tony was all red from anger.

You paused from where you were standing to take in what he meant. And when it finally sank in why they were all acting so strange, you joined Bucky in laughter.

You rested your hand on Bucky’s shoulder for support, tears brimming your eyes from laughing too hard.

The team was now looking at you both in confusion.

“You thought we slept together?” You asked in between laughter.

“Well, what the hell could all of this have meant?!” Clint asked from his seat.

“I was sick and Bucky was nursing me.” you explained, composing yourself.

“Why was he in his underwear then? Because I do not need to know that you guys were role playing.” Sam interjected, a sour look on his face.

“My AC was off because I was too cold. I got sick because I raced you under a thunderstorm the night before, remember?” you said looking at Sam.

Collective Ohs were heard in the room.

--------

That afternoon, you were peacefully reading a book on your bed when you heard small knocks on your door.

“Come in.” you said out loud.

The door opened softly and Bucky came in with a smile on his face. “Hey, doll. How are you feeling?”

“I’m actually doing a lot better, Buck. Why, are you planning to strip off to your undies if I were sick again?” you joked, patting on a space infront of you on the bed.

“If you wanted me to so badly, all you have to do is ask, Y/N.” He chuckled and sat in front of you.

“Our friends are ridiculous.” You laughed, thinking back to what happened this morning.

“I know.” He nodded. “They got one thing right though.” he smiled at you again.

“And that is...?”

“I have been crushing on you.” He admitted, his cheeks turning a tinge of pink.

“So, I was right to tease you before.” you smiled smugly.

“Shut up.” he looked down, feeling your sheets in between his fingers.

“If it makes you feel any better, I am attracted to you too.” you admitted, and a boyish smile stretched on his lips.

“Was you being sick all a ploy to get me in my underwear?” he teased, and you smacked him playfully with a pillow near you. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

A comfortable silence passed, both of you just grinning, avoiding eye contact.

“You know, I never got to properly thank you for taking care of me.” You broke the silence.

“How could you ever repay me?” he asked in an exaggerated tone.

“Would a kiss from your crush, suffice?” you teased again, wiggling your brows playfully.

“Hey, you just said you like me too!” He defended himself. “But, yes.” he smiled sheepishly.

“Fine.” you playfully rolled your eyes before leaning in.

His lips were softer than you expected, and you could tell that he was smiling. Pulling you closer to him, both of you were getting carried away from what was supposed to be a quick peck, and missed to hear the creak from your door opening.

“I knew it!” A booming voice cut you both off. Head snapping to the doorway, Sam was standing there with a smug look on his face before leaving and letting the entire compound know that you were both lying that morning.

“Who’s gonna believe us now?” you let out a soft chuckle.

“I guess I have to ask you out on a date now, huh.” Bucky was grinning at you, playfulness lacing his tone.

“Oh, how inconvenient for you.” you gave his lips a quick before finally moving away, giggling.

--------

Tag list:

@lizzarooni @intothesoul

Special tag bc they asked for pt 2:

@coffeebooksandfandom @harrystylesandthegoobs

--------

HAVE A GREAT DAY!

[allthewhumpygoodness]

My (kind of) entry for @sicktember prompts #1 and #11 sorta combined. Medieval fantasy-ish.

The wind bit through their layers of clothing, even where they sat huddled before the fire. The flames swayed enticingly, the hot coals below looking like a warm cave they longed to curl up in. Though at this point they figured not even that would warm their frozen bones.

"A?" They looked up and saw B watching them, concern in their eyes. "How long have you been out here?"

A shrugged, another shiver taking hold of them. "A few hours, I guess."

"Hours? A, you're clearly exhausted. Go back to your tent, I'll take watch for now."

They just shrugged again, turning back to the fire. There was an aching behind their eyes that had only worsened over the past while, as much as they longed to shut them they knew it would only be all the worse if they did. They longed to sleep, to flop over right where they sat and let their sore muscles rest for a while.

B sat down beside them with a huffing sigh. "So something's bothering you. Isn't that right?"

At this point, A was far too tired to deny it. "How can you tell?"

"You always stalk off on your own when something is wrong. You get all quiet. More quiet than usual, that is."

Normally A might have laughed. But now they were simply too exhausted for it. "I haven't been feeling my best, that's all. Nothing that important."

"How so?"

"It doesn't matter."

"A."

B was giving them a side eye. They knew it, even if they weren't looking at them. Another chill hit them, making them pull their cloak tighter around their shoulders. They coughed a little into their shoulder, not realizing until they did that there was a deep ache in their chest, spreading into their arms. "I've just been tired, chilled. I ache all over." They shot B a look. "Probably just from riding all day, I'm sure."

"Oh, to be sure." Even as A curled up tighter, resting their chin on their knees, they could feel their friend's eyes on them.

Exhaustion weighed down on their eyelids, forcing them shut. They buried their face in the folds of their cloak, allowing the darkness to soothe the aches in their head and eyes a little. Soon B would leave, they knew that. Everyone left eventually.

Sure enough, they heard the shuffle of boots, the sounds of somebody standing and walk away. Maybe it was their tiredness, but they felt tears closing up their throat. Stupid. They'd known B was going to leave. They'd known. They shouldn't have been surprised.

The wind blew harsher against them in their huddled bundle and they shivered worse than ever. Out of nowhere their face and neck felt uncomfortably hot in comparison to the icy block of the rest of their body. They pried it up from their knees and were hit with a wave of dizziness. Maybe B was right, and they should just go back to their tent.

Another repeated thud of footsteps came up behind them and they turned, wincing as the dizziness worsened.

"Here you go. How long has it been since you've eaten?" A blinked. It took them a moment to make sense of that they were seeing - B, standing over them with a bowl of steaming soup in their hands.

"You came back," they said blankly. They'd thought...

B shrugged. "Of course I did. What, did you expect me to leave you here by yourself?"

They didn't answer that. "I just didn't...thanks, B."

"Not a problem."

A's heart warmed a little just at the feeling of them sitting down beside them again. They hadn't been abandoned. Not yet.

The soup warmed them too. It was a good, strong broth with some herbs and bits of meat, but not much else. Which didn't bother them much - they hadn't been hungry in a while. But the warmth of it was nonetheless comforting. They sat and sipped, the soothing heat of the soup and the fire lulling them from the inside out. They almost could forget how sore their head and tired muscles were, and how the world spun when they turned their head too suddenly.

Halfway through the bowl they couldn't make themselves eat anymore. Their body felt weighted to the ground; if they didn't have to move for a hundred years they would have been happy. When the half empty bowl of soup almost slid from their grasp for a third time, they felt a firm but gentle hand on their arm. "Come on, you're dead on your feet. Let's get you back into your tent."

This time, A didn't bother to protest. They let B pull them to their feet, one arm around their still trembling shoulders. The ground swooped out from underneath them and they stumbled, swaying against their friend.

They heard B chuckle. "Watch yourself, A. You must really be exhausted."

Responding took too much effort. Instead they let their head flop against B's shoulder as another wave of dizziness tugged at them. The camp torches eventually faded from their sight as they approached the wooded area that held most of the tents. By the time they reached their own they were shivering worse than ever, their head pounding in time with their heart. If they didn't lie down soon they really would collapse.

The next few minutes were a bit of a blur, but they could hear B's cheerful voice talking away as they helped A into bed, even helping them pull off their boots and tossing every blanket they possessed on top of them. It was a little better in there, warmer yet darker, and lying flat made their head stop spinning, even if there was only a light mat separating them from the hard ground beneath.

"Get some sleep," said their friend's voice from somewhere above them. "I'll take your watch."

It wasn't long before they slipped into an uneasy sleep, disturbed by dreams that flitted around half formed until they could no longer tell if they were dreams or not. They opened their eyes a crack, still half asleep, and saw a dark thread on the wall of their tent...the thread became a spider creeping slowly towards them, they jerked back but instead of waking up the spiders only bored into their dreams, speaking to them with evil voices. Then they were struck by lightning and frozen in place, all their muscles taut and rigid, unable to move, unable to breathe, everything aching...a dark shape rose up above them until it was too big to see, stretching all around the tent, it reached down and grabbed them...

This time they sprang awake with a cry, scrambling backward away from the terrible shadow fingers that reached out for them. They couldn't breathe, their head was pounding, surely they were going to die...

"A," said a half familiar voice. "Hey, A, it's just me. Breathe."

They tried. In an instant they started coughing, their chest sore and ragged. A pair of strong hands held their shoulders, rubbing gently. "You're all right. Deep breaths now, I just need you to breathe."

A slumped against B's shoulder, worn down completely, their breath shuddering in their chest. Their limbs burned and froze and shook all at once, the ground beneath them tilting horribly. They felt themselves being laid down again, grasping out for their pillow. B's voice remained in their ears, gentle and comforting.

A second voice joined theirs. "Are they all right?"

A hand brushed their forehead. "They've got a fever, trouble breathing..."

"The poor thing..."

"Please don't go," A said hoarsely, suddenly terrified. Their eyes cracked open a sliver, B and now C too blurred in their vision. "I - I don't want to be alone."

"Of course not." B brushed the hair out of their face. "You're going to be just fine, we'll take good care of you."

Their eyes burned, head aching terribly. They could hear shuffling, the hushed voices of B and C and others from the camp in the background - probably talking about them, their overtired brain finally caught up enough to realize.

"Don't help me." It took them a second to tell they'd spoken out loud, but once they began they found it hard to stop. "Don't, I'm just a burden to you...please leave me be."

C's gentle voice was close to them now. "I thought you just said you didn't want to be alone?"

"They're mostly delirious, C." That was B. "Don't pay attention, just wait with them while I try and get my hands on some medicine."

A slid into a half sleep, imagining shadowy fingers creeping up their shoulder and voices whispering in their ear. Their eyes snapped open once, heart racing, but all they saw was the dim light of a candle and C's anxious face above them. Whimpering a little, they curled over on their other side, fighting to ignore the spinning in their head and the sickening ache in their joints. Everything was too much.

For a while it remained too much; no matter how much they tossed and turned they could not get comfortable, sore muscles and chills beating them down the worst. B returned with a spoonful of some bitter herbs that they managed to coax down A's throat despite their protests, which did nothing but leave a sour feeling in their stomach. They could not tell whether it was day or night anymore, all they knew was that they longed to sleep and couldn't seem to no matter what, and could not escape the pain that encircled them.

Their friends' faces merged with each other, and other faces they'd known long ago and thought to have forgotten, sometimes they thought they cried out for people no longer alive but in the small part of their mind that was still lucid hoped very much against it.

Once they woke up with a cry of fear from a nightmare that was already fading away, but the terror still clung to them. They shivered violently in the dark, limbs and head burning, until they felt another blanket go around them and C's voice shushing them and telling them to go back to sleep.

It continued on like that for a while. There were times when they were fully awake, but those times only meant they could feel the full effects of their illness, and they found themselves craving sleep when they came. B or C sat with them most times, but sometimes others would poke their heads into the tent to see how they're doing, sitting with them and making jokes in an effort to cheer them up, or just bringing them a bowl of soup when they hadn't eaten in a while. They never realized so many people cared about them.

Finally, one day they woke up to find their head was no longer pounding, their limbs still horribly stiff but not quite as sore as they had been. With weary eyes they looked automatically to the side of their cot and once again saw B sitting there, one hand laid gently on the top of their head. "You're awake, I see. Feeling any better?"

The hand in their hair was soothing. "A little," they answered croakily. "Did - did C come in too, or was that a dream?"

B chuckled. "Half the camp visited you at some point. They were all very concerned, did you expect them not to be?"

A lump rose unexpectedly in their throat. "I - I guess I did expect that."

B sighed. "A, we care about you. All of us care about you. How many times can we say it? Or show it?"

A was too tired to halt the tears that slipped from their eyes. "I'm sorry," they muttered, "I'm just...not used to people caring very much."

"Well, get used to it. You don't have to do this all by yourself, A."

It was too hard to stop the tears now, so they let them fall and curled up tighter under their blankets. They still weren't sure how much control they'd have over what words came out of their mouth, so they kept it shut for the time being, and tried to think of nothing but B's careful hand running through their hair. They had friends. They had a family.

It was almost too much.

But in a good way.

[ninja-scenarios]

Omg I'm so excited for this!!!

Is it okay to request some HCs for Dazai, Mori and Fyodor with a fem!S/O who's a Vet and she's very sweet and soft and has a Healing ability, but she is prone to overworking to exhaustion and has a hard time refusing people?

I hope it's not too specific, but if it is, you can tweak it in any way you like so that you'll enjoy it 🤗💖

Thank you so much for taking the time to read this, have an amazing day!!

🌸🌸🌸🌟🌟🌟

Ahhh I love BSD so much!!! Thank you anon 💕

Dazai, Fyodor, Mori with a hard-working S/O

(The scenario with Dazai is with a female s/o, Mori and Fyodor are with a gender neutral s/o)

Dazai 💘

Your back hurt when you straightened out in your chair. The joint in your shoulder popped for good measure and left you grumbling under your breath. Not the best way to start home time.

However, your mood lifted like thick heavy theatre curtains the second your keys unlocked the entrance to your shared home.

„Welcome home, darling~!“

The lovely scent of soup filled your nose, ridding you of the sour afterthought of your headache as soon as you laid your eyes on your lover.

„How was your day?“

Dazai stood at the stove, wearing one of your aprons. However the man didn't give you any time to respond, because the second you opened your mouth he shushed you and made sure you sat down at the table.

„You must be tired, dear. But don't fret, dinner's ready!“

The steaming hot bowl of soup was placed in front of you with Dazai kissing the top of your head and then taking a seat.

You wanted to thank him and ask about his day, you really wanted to. But the moment your brain noticed the food, it completely short circuted. It took all of you not to wolf down the spicy soup as you dug in, remembering that it had been eight hours since your last meal which had consisted of a muesli bar.

With all the work at the vet you tended to overwork yourself and completely forget about your own needs.

Your stomach rumbled in approval as the last drop of soup vanished into your hungry mouth, leaving the bottom of the bowl completely blank.

„Baby, thank you so much for cooking! I-"

Dazai jumped up before you could finish.

„Ahh! Darling, I almost forgot! There's desert, of course.“

Yet before he could leave to spoil you any further, you grabbed his arm with lightning-fast reflexes. You were a doctor after all, who had her own clinic. What a boss ass bitch. You just couldn't control yourself around food.

„You stay here!“ You exclaimed, before burying yourself in his arms. His comforting scent filled your nose, his hands coming to rest on your waist naturally. „I don't need desert as much as I need you.“

If Dazai had glanced at his darling lovingly before, now his warm brown eyes were lighting up even brighter with undying love.

„Really? You mean it? Oh, darling…“ Was he blushing?  „Why so romantic all of a sudden~?“

„Desert can wait. What I need now is you and a hot shower.“

Dazai chuckled when you pulled him down into a kiss. His big comforting hands found your shoulders, gliding them down to your butt to lift you up.

Your legs wrapped around his waist while you felt him navigating to your bathroom through your shared kisses.

Naturally, your skilled fingers found his bandages which they loosened hastily.

„So do you want me before, after or during your shower, doll?“

 

Fyodor ⚠️

`Finally home!‘

It had been a long day at the clinic. You were tired.

Fyodor had given you a key to his apartment after 7 months of being a couple. Even though it had taken time for him to open up, you felt the excitement melt a little bit of your exhaustion as you used it for the first time to open the door.

After the first step you suddenly halted. You had to alert him in some way that you'd entered the appartment lest he had a shock at your sudden appearance. But you didn’t want to say ‚I'm home' which would surely sound too clingy for the first time you used the key.

So you settled for awkwardly calling his name.

„…Fyodor? Eh… Are you there?“

The more suprised you were when you heard him call back from the living room.

„Y/n, are you home already?“

Home. Ignoring the sudden swarm of butterflies warming your belly from the inside, you stepped into the living room for a familiar image.

Fyodor hadn’t moved from his spot on the floor, a warm blanket wrapped around him while he oversaw something on an array of computer screens.

You came to give him a peck on his temple.

„Are you still working?“

„Don't bother yourself with it, doll.“ He stretched his hand to stroke a strand of hair behind your ear. His nimble fingers lingered on your neck and you had a hard time turning away from his eyes.

„I see you’re tired. Always so hard-working, aren't you? Why don't you sit with me?“ He unwrapped one side of the blanket, indicating for you to join him.

Heart still beating fast from his kind gesture you took a seat on his lap, resting comfortably against his wonderfully warm body. He wrapped the blanket around the both of you, going back to his work.

For a second you were reminded of the reason he sat here with a blanket and warm clothes, of his weak anemic body. Yet you assured yourself that Fyodor was capable to take care. Still, you worried.

Yet when your head met his neck, you noticed how tired you really were. It had been a long night at work and you wanted nothing more than to rest.

You fell asleep to Fyodor petting your head, feeling safe and sound. Feeling like home.

 

Mori 💉

For any new recruit to the port Mafia, it came as a shock when you let yourself into the building like you owned the place and proceeded to self-assuredly navigate through the hallways as if you were taking a stroll, to plop down right on top of the boss' very own bed.

However, you couldn't care less about the newbies who had to pick up their jaws from the floor.

It was only natural for you, being the boss' lover.

Today you were dog tired, having worked over time because one of your employees had called in sick and leaving you with a ton of work.

It should have been about an hour from when you'd fallen into bed and immediately went to sleep comforted by his familiar scent, when Mori finally showed up.

The oh so mighty head of the port mafia was astonished upon noticing you, his violet eyes widening slightly, before proceeding to walk on tip toes and making as little noise as possible until he arrived at your bed side.

Just when he was about to lean down to place a kiss on your head, you opened your eyes with a cheeky grin.

„Ahh why are you doing this to me? If you were awake why didn't you say so?“

Nothing was funnier than reminding your powerful lover that he was a mere slave to your smile.

„Because you're always so fun to tease.“

Mori furrowed his brows yet you pulled him down by his collar to press a few loving kisses to his lips. His eyes changed immediately, fading with a love-drunken glow, as well as his cheeks. His stubble scratched just the slightest bit but you were used to it by now.

He took a seat on the side of the bed, a warm smile grazing his lips when you proceeded to climb into his lap.

„I take it you worked over time again?“

You merely hummed, toying with the top button of his dress shirt before unbuttoning it.

„You know, my love, I could always send someone else to help you out. If it's money you need-"

„Thanks, but no. I can take care of my own matters. I'm not afraid to put in the work.“

The shirt was stripped away, reveiling the sight to your lover's chest.

„I know, darling, I know. I just don't want you to overwork yourself all the time.“

You locked eyes. Your finger found his pulse against the side of his neck. It was warm, beating in a comforting rythm.

„You can help me otherwise.“

Mori raised his eyebrow in question. You didn't put him on the rack for long.

„Kiss me.“

He wasted no time, cradling the back of your head as he captured your lips in a kiss. You let your fingers continue to wander over his skin while he grunted softly.

Mori made sure you stayed in his lap when he turned you around, hovering over your form while his lips kept attacking yours more and more feverishly as the moments went by.

You moaned softly, tightening the grip of your thighs.

„I love you"

„I love you too, darling"

[shwazzberryswriting]

Miss Confident

Pairing: Kun x Original Female Character|Reader

Genre: PWP, Straight Up Smut

Summary: Kun helps his girlfriend with her problems at work

Word count: 2,600

Rating/Warnings: Mature / Explicit Sexual Content: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Kissing, Nipple Play, Nipple Licking, Floor Sex, Dirty Talk, Not Beta Read, Creampie, Overstimulation

Author’s Note: Kun's been committing all sorts of attacks on me for like a week, OK? I've thought about Kun being the sort of dom who will enjoy subbing from time to time but he'd still really be a dom. So here is my fic interpretation of that. I sorta wish I would have written more foreplay, but I would have spent much longer on this and I don't need to waste so much time on a PWP when I have so many WIPs I have to work on. Apologies ahead for any errors, I only proofread once!

-------

Neary shut her laptop and groaned. Her presentation was fast approaching, and she felt like throwing up every time she reached the 5th slide. If she was choking up in the privacy of her bedroom, she worried that she would simply burst into a pile of dust when it was time to present her project to the Sales Director and Plant Managers of her company.

She needed a break, so Neary stood up from her desk, and walked down the hall to see her boyfriend. She found Kun’s office door closed, and pressed her ear to the door to hear a familiar tune playing. He’d been working on a song for the past 2 weeks, it was a demo for a movie theme song. He likely wouldn’t have heard her knocking, so she opened the door.

“Hey, baby,” Kun said, looking away from the two computer screens set up before him when she called out his name. His keyboard was set to his left, and he had a drink in his hand. “I’m thinking about making Sichuan style Hot and Sour Soup for dinner. I have some fish that will be good with the green mustard.”

“Can we order sushi tonight, honey?” she asked, walking over to him. He set his drink down as he turned slightly toward her.

“I should cook the fish before it goes bad,” he argued back. “We can order a little sashimi if you want.”

“Why are you always right?” she replied, frowning. She felt a bit of joy light up as she ran her hand through his hair. His hand on his mouse stopped as he shut his eyes. “We shouldn’t waste money on sashimi if you’re going to cook fish for dinner.”

“Anything on your mind?” he asked, opening his eyes when she rested her hand on his shoulder. He slipped his left arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him.

“I can't control my nerves," she admitted. "I choke up halfway through my presentation."

“Stage fright,” he said as he pulled her to sit on his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she rested her head on his shoulder. “What makes you feel powerful?”

“What?” she asked with a laugh, sitting up to stare at her boyfriend.

“It’s a mental thing,” he explained, grinning at her, his hands caressing her hips gently. “Before you do your presentation, build up confidence. Tell yourself that you’ve got it, give yourself a round of applause, do something that will make you feel confident and powerful.”

“That works? I wish Jerrid was still working with me. He always did the presentations.”

“Forget Jerrid,” Kun said, rolling his eyes. “You got the promotion because you were the one with the ideas. Your boss knows you can do the presentations. You’ve got it, baby.”

“Can you go to my presentation with me?” she asked, cuddling up to him, returning to resting her head on his shoulder.

“You can do it,” he said, stroking her arm. “Close your eyes and think about this moment before your presentation tomorrow.”

“I still feel a little nervous,” she replied.

“What will make you more confident?”

She cupped his cheek in her hand and directed his face to her. Planting a firm kiss against his lips, she focused on how her chest felt light, like she had more air to breathe. As strongly as she inhaled in, she felt like she couldn’t get enough of the scent of Kun. She took note how her body was filled with happy feelings of warmth and comfort. The warmth made her shoulders and back relax, and she smiled against his lips.

Before she could break the kiss, her hand slipping down to his shoulder, she felt him open his mouth to capture her lips between his. His hand rested on the back of her neck, and he pushed his tongue into her mouth. She moaned as she pushed back, licking his lips before she broke the kiss.

“What do you want?” he asked softly as she rested the pads of her index and middle finger on his bottom lip. Her stomach was boiling with heat as his soft lips moved under her fingers. “Hm?” His hand on her hip moved to cup her ass, squeezing it gently. “I have work to do.”

“You’re going to throw me out?” she asked, pouting slightly. He chuckled, squeezing her ass again.

“Miss Confident, what do you want? Tell me, I’ll do it,” he said, his gaze softening as he touched his forehead to hers.

She was frozen, the heat inside of her was bubbling over with Kun kneading her ass, and the warmth of his kisses still on her lips. She’d never been able to lead their sexual encounters. It was always in Kun’s ball court since she struggled to verbalize what she wanted. She felt lucky that he knew how to please her without her having to tell him.

“Otherwise, I need to get a little work done.”

“I want to stay,” she pleaded before planting a quick kiss on his lips. “I know what you like.”

She began grinding against him gently as her lips moved to kiss his earlobe, her hand raking through his hair. He groaned, and she gave a soft laugh against his ear as she felt him start to harden.

“What do you want?” he asked after a moment, his hands on her hips. He sat back fully into his chair, his eyes never leaving her. He grinned. “You want to make me come in my pants?”

“Kun,” she breathed out, furrowing her eyebrows as she stopped moving, “what do you want me to say?”

“Let me know what you want, Miss Confident,” he said with a chuckle. “You want to be confident? Tell me what you want.”

“Shut up and kiss me,” she said with a heavy sigh.

He was enjoying himself too much, and she was annoyed at her boyfriend teasing her. He obliged as they came together and kissed. His lips remained pursed against hers and she gave a chuckle before opening her mouth and capturing his lips continually between hers in small, wet kisses. Her tongue licked his lips, and he opened his mouth to capture her tongue. He sucked on her tongue before releasing it, and she broke their kiss.

“That’s it?” he asked, sounding disappointed. “So much work-”

“Make me come,” she interrupted him before grabbing the back of his head, fisting her hand into his hair and directing his mouth to hers. Her free hand rested on his shoulder as she shifted around to straddle him, but he pushed her to sit on his desk. His tongue was pushing aggressively into her mouth before he broke their kiss when he stood up.

“Let me,” he panted out heavily as his arms reached out behind her, “close things up.”

“Fuck me on the floor,” she demanded as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

She dug the heels of her feet into his back, making him groan. He moaned as she moved her hand to grab his growing erection. She pressed down on him as she stroked up and down. Her mind was swimming with half thoughts of pride to see Kun struggle to remain composed as he stood before her. He closed his eyes for a few moments as he took in a deep inhale of breath.

“How do you want to be fucked, Miss Confident?” he asked, smiling widely. His fingers were at her sides, bundling up the fabric of her shirt as they slid up her body. She wrapped her arms around his neck when he’d taken her shirt off and they kissed. “Want to be on all fours as I take you from behind? Or should I put your left leg over my shoulder and I pound into that tight cunt all night?”

“Shut,” she panted out as she felt him lift her so he could pull her shorts and panties off, “up.”

“Hm?” he asked as she unwrapped her legs from his waist so he could pull her clothes off. She let him savor his moment at groping her breasts, his fingers teasing her nipples through the lace fabric of her black bralette as he pinched them.

“Get naked and let me ride you,” she panted out. She moaned as his fingers continued to tease her nipples, making her stomach ache in heat. “Kun, listen to me, honey. I want to fuck you.”

“OK,” he said before his hands pulled her bralette off.

“ You get naked,” she spoke up more firmly as she stood up from his desk. She grabbed the front of his jeans and began to unbutton them. He took off his sweater, and cupped her face into his hands as he directed her to his lips.

“Look at Miss Confident ordering me around,” he said with a gentle grin when he broke the kiss.

“You’re not getting naked,” she said, frowning. She pushed his jeans down and she smiled, heat hitting her cheeks, as she watched him remove his boxers and kicked his jeans and boxers away.

“What do we do now, Miss Confident?” he asked, pressing his body against hers, thrusting his hips gently as his cock slid up against her stomach.

“I want to ride you so bad, honey,” she said as she took his arms, going down on her knees.

He followed her, and laid down on his back as she placed her hands on his shoulders to push him onto his back. Facing him, she straddled him and used her hand to direct his cock to her entrance. She leaned back and planted her feet onto the floor as she pushed him deeper. The heat of his cock filled her up, and she moaned as her fingers rubbed her clit.

He sat up and placed his hands on her hips as she began to grind against him. She pressed her chest against his as she kissed him, resting one hand on his shoulder. He took her other hand and intertwined their fingers before resting them on her hip. His teeth nipped at her lips as he pushed forward, wanting her kisses. She turned her head to the side as her lips were beginning to feel rough and throbbing slightly.

“I want to eat your sweet lips,” he said softly into her ear as his grip on her hips tightened and he gave harsh, fast pushes into her.

She moaned as his cock punished her pussy, her tits bouncing wildly as he continued fucking her fast and hard. He slowed his thrusts, grunting as he released her hand to wrap both arms around her waist. A sweet moan came out of her as he bent down and licked her nipple, the pointed tip of his tongue flicking it before his teeth grazed against it.

“Fuck me in a new way and make me come,” she demanded when she felt him planting a trail of kisses up her chest to her neck.

“What haven’t we done?” he asked with a bright smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling as they pulled apart. His hand groped her breast as she stood on her knees beside him. “How well can you take me?”

He kissed her and had her lie down on her back. He pulled her knees up and spread her open, pressing his hands over her knees to pin them against the floor. Her pussy was completely open for him, and he slid his stiffened cock over her wet slit. She gave a soft moan as he inhaled and exhaled sharply.

“Fuck,” she breathed in a shaky breath as he pushed himself into her.

He kissed her neck as he began a slow rhythm. The weight of his hands on her knees added to the intensity of her nerves feeling every thrust he pushed into her. She whimpered as his cock hit deep into her sweet spot, quickly spreading an oozing sort of warmth along her lower abdomen and toward her back. The heat was slowly but steadily spreading throughout her body.

Her shoulders began to burn as she felt her skin rub up against the carpet as Kun thrust himself in and out of her in a steady, building rhythm. His hands released her knees as one hand shot up to grab her breast. He licked her nipple, maintaining eye contact with her, before he wrapped his mouth around her breast to suck on it. His left hand reached between their bodies and his thumb began rubbing up and down against her clit.

She arched her back and her fingers dug into his shoulders as she moaned. He was burning her skin against the carpet as he continually thrust hard and deep into her. He was fucking her so good she was going to come. He was teasing her as his tongue swirled around her left nipple. He was giving her everything as his thumb brushed gently against her clit for a few seconds before rubbing her harder, the contrasting sensations making her clit throb angrily as blood rushed down to her groin and up to her head.

She was dizzy with lust as she felt Kun’s lips over hers. His tongue invaded hers as he groaned into her mouth, her pussy walls squeezing down on his cock. Her arms wrapped around his neck as her orgasm came, a flash of heat washed over her body. Her sinuses flared as blood rushed up to her head, every push of Kun’s cock into her making her nerves dance in frenetic waves.

He released her lips as he continued to thrust into her, his thumb now rubbing circles against her clit. Her body shook as he overstimulated her body. She gave a couple whimpers, feeling hot tears leak out of her eyes, as she heard Kun guffawing.

“You’re my sweet cock whore, look at you lose yourself around my cock,” he teased with heavy pants as he slowed his thrusts, giving a handful of shallow thrusts before surprising her by pushing himself harshly in and out of her a couple times. “Is this what you meant, Miss Confident, when you wanted me to make you come?” He continued a steady rhythm after she gave a yelp and whimper at his cock hitting her deep again. “I know I’m fucking you right. Just let me know, baby.”

Unable to speak, her shaky hands grabbed onto his sweaty neck and directed him to kiss her. His hands pressed down onto her thighs and he thrust furiously into her as they kissed. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she felt like her shoulder blades were being rubbed raw against the carpet, her skin ready to bleed if he didn’t come soon.

She shoved her tongue into his mouth when he thrust deep into her and she felt his come fill up her insides. The heat of his seed lit her nerves up in small flames, and she moaned into his mouth as she felt his hand caress her breast. He gave another thrust and they grunted into each other’s mouths as he withdrew from her.

“Don’t look at the mess,” he said as he helped her up. “I’ll take care of it.” He directed her to look at him as they sat up against the wall on the floor. He had one arm wrapped over her body, holding her close to him. “How do you feel, Miss Confident?”

“Confident,” she said with a smile, rubbing her nose against his before giving him a gentle kiss.

[caramelcal]

Missing band practice, sickness and hugs

Request:  Okay hear me out, luke x reader fic where Luke is coming down with a cold but this stubborn lil boy is like “no it’s fine I can still go to band practice” but the reader is like “absolutely not” and then the reader forces him to stay in bed and rest up and even though he’s annoyed and stubborn at first, he very quickly becomes super soft and lets the reader take care of him. I feel like Luke is someone who, while soft, would be very protective and caring of his SO, so when the roles are reversed he’s reluctant about it, but end up loving being the soft one and enjoys being taken care of.

Word Count: 1.2k 

a/n: hi guys! i hope this is okay, also i’m pretty sure i shifted omg??? i’m very confused but i thought i would write this before i try again hahah. anyway have a good day/night, and i hope you enjoy lovelies x 

also i didn’t know what to call this, but i feel that it sums the story up. if you have any other ideas pls do lmk :)

Luke Patterson Tags: @rachmmb @phantompogues 

message me if you would like to be added ^

Masterlist

“Luke please, you can’t seriously think that you can go to band practice,” You almost beg with him, a frown on your face as you follow Luke around the room.

He’s determined, you’ll give him that, but he’s also sick. By now he’s picking up his guitar, and turns around, smashing into you. Grabbing onto him, you look him in the eyes. His eyes a little watery, not from crying but because he’s ill, his nose a little red from rubbing it.

“I’m going y/n, we have a gig soon and I can’t leave the band to practice without me,” Luke dismisses, trying to end the conversation there and walk around you but you have a firm hold on him.

“No,” You reply, shaking your head and making Luke raise an eyebrow at you, “Think about how dumb that is, Luke. Imagine you pass whatever you have on to any of the other band members, and they aren’t able to fight it off before your gig. All I’m asking is that you miss one band practice, you’ll get over this soon and I’ll look after you. We can stay in bed and watch films, I’ll get you some snacks.”

Luke continues to stare down at you, watching you as you speak to him, trying to persuade him to stay home. His grip on his guitar loosens whilst he goes through his options in his head. Your grip is still firm on his biceps and you can feel his skin burning, but it only encourages you to make him stay even more.

“It’s just these next few band practices are really important y/n, I can’t miss them,” Luke replies with a small sniffle, and a frown falls deeper on your face.

He watches as you roll your eyes, gripping onto his arms even more. He may be determined to go to band practice, but it appears that you’re even more determined to have him stay here, “Luke, stop being so stubborn and just stay home. You know you would beat yourself up if another member of the band got sick.”

Maybe he wouldn’t admit it right to your face because he doesn’t like to be wrong, but he knows it’s true. If a member of the band got sick before their performance it meant that they would probably have to sit the gig out, and it would be all his fault.

You watched on as Luke went over his options in his head. He only really had two and they were to stay home and get better or to go to band practice, get one of his fellow band members sick, and have an angry girlfriend.

“Fine,” Luke agrees hesitantly with a scowl on his face, but it only makes a smile start to form on your own face, “but only so we don’t have to cancel our gig.”

. . .

It was barely ten minutes later when Luke was swaddled up in a blanket, tissues and snacks by his side and the tv on some random channel. It was weird for him, he didn’t often find himself sick and this was the first time he had ever canceled band practice. He couldn’t deny he was in a bit of a sour mood, but it would surely pass soon.

It wasn’t only strange for him to be sick, but because you were caring for him. Often, it was the other way around. You found yourself sick quite a lot, catching anything and everything, even if you just briefly passed someone sick in the hallways. Luke actually found comfort in taking care of you sometimes, happy to know that he was helping you feel better whether it be with cuddles, some snacks, or medicine.

It wasn’t long before you came in, a tray in your hands. Your hair was up and away from your face in a messy ponytail, and Luke couldn’t help the small smile that came to his face at the sight of you.

Placing the tray down on the side of the bed, your hands wrapped around a hot drink that you passed to him with a smile, “It’s hot chocolate. Also, I phoned Alex and told him that you’ll be missing practice today, everyone is okay with it.”

He hesitantly took it from your hands and sipped on the drink, finding that it soothed him rather quickly. Your attention turned back to the tray as you spoke, “I brought you water too and some snacks. More tissues, some pills, and some throat soothers. They don’t taste the best but they work well if your throat is sore.”

“Thanks, n/n,” He replies quietly, making you look up at him with those e/c eyes that he loved, sending him a soft smile. He puts down the hot chocolate on the bedside table, taking the pills off of the tray and taking them with the water.

“I can make you that chicken soup you like, too,” You suggest, rocking on your heels slightly as you think of what Luke used to do for you when you were sick. This was your first time that the roles had ever been reversed and when it was you taking care of him and not the other way around and you wanted to make sure that he felt cared for.

He always showed you how much you meant to him, and made sure that you were extra comfortable when you were sick, so the least you could do was make sure that he was okay this one time. It filled you with a sense of duty, it may have seemed so dumb for others, but you wanted to make sure that Luke knew that he meant a lot to you and of course, you wanted him to get better.

“Thanks y/n, but it’s okay. I’m not feeling too hungry,” Luke shot you a small smile before his eyes turned back towards the tv. However, his attention isn’t on the tv long when you clamber into bed with him, wrapping your arms around his blanket encased body, “What are you doing?”

“Hugging you?” You reply, making it sound more like a question, your arms still holding onto him.

“You’ll get sick,” Luke says with a sniffle, looking down at your figure that hugged him even tighter. 

You scrunch your nose whilst you look up at him, throwing him a small smile when you talk, “No I won’t and even if I do, I don’t care, I just want to make you feel better.”

“Fine,” Luke grumbles, knowing that you won’t let him distance himself from you. You were in a weird mood today, he’ll give you that, he wasn’t sure if you were just determined or if there was a slight bit of bossiness there but it didn’t matter, because either way you were sure that your hugs were going to save Luke from his cold, and he let you because he enjoyed your hugs.

It wasn’t long before you both fell asleep, wrapped up in blankets and pillows. The morning sunlight was filtering into the room when Luke was next awake, you still wrapped in his hold. He smiled down at the sight of your face up against him, messy hair everywhere.

Maybe he had been reluctant to let you look after him, but the extra hugs and kisses weren’t too bad...

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

Heyy if you're free, can you continue the supervillain whumpee and hero caretaker prompt? Thanks and I love your writing <3

Yes I can! Thank you for the ask!

Dear Diary Part 2

Part 1

@teheranb

Warnings: stockholm syndrome, delirium, fever, pills (tylenol), alcohol mention, tobacco mention, being insensitive to another's trauma

But mostly just fluff and a hero who can't admit her feelings...

*not edited*

~

So, that was only the first day! The first day and I had to go through all that. Supervillain... he seemed to be attached to Villain in all the worse possible ways. I'm thinking a bit of stockholm syndrome here. Which, makes sense. Based on the state Supervillain was in when I found him, he must've been caught under her wrath for weeks, if not months.

But, I have to say, nothing from these last two weeks were as nauseatingly shocking as my encounter with the villain herself...

"Good, so you found him," Villain commented as she ate her soup. Hero watched her, eyes narrowing.

"Yes, aren't you gonna so something about it?" Hero asked, crossing her arms. She watched Villain slurp down the chicken noddle soup like a pig, broth dripping down her chin.

"Nah. Supervillain was fun to... tease, but now he's bo-ring," Villain chuckled, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. "And really just a waste of time."

"He is really sick," Hero said, not amused.

"Okay and? We all get sick."

"Not like this."

Villain laughed and leaned forward, resting on her elbows. Hero could smell her acrid breath- a sour stench of chicken soup and alcohol, with a twinge of cigarettes.

"Like what darling?" She drawled. "A wee bit traumatized? He'll be fine, just give him some oreos and he'll simmer down."

Hero clenched her teeth. Was Villain really this insensitive?

The answer was, quite frankly, yes.

"What's the matter dear? Cat got your tongue?" Villain pursed her lips, watching Hero with a sneer. "Or do you really care about Supervillain and his worthless hide-"

Hero shot forward, grabbing Villain's neck and shoving her against the wall. Villain made a clicking sound with her tongue and glanced over at the watching civilians gathered around in the restaurant.

"Careful Hero," Villain whispered, her breath brushing against Hero's cheek. "Civilians. You don't want them to get hurt, now do you?"

Hero sighed and let go of Villain who straighten her shirt out and ran a hand through her thin, sunbleached hair.

"Good luck with Supervillain," she said, nodded at a random bystander and sauntered off.

Yeah, that experience rocked me to my core. I had left Supervillain at home, thankfully nothing happened because doing that was stupid. Anyways, after that I headed home and found Supervillain still asleep, of course, but he was in the middle of a nightmare...

Supervillain let out a short scream, thrashing about in his mound of covers and blankets. His pale skin was flushed pink with fever, head moistened and plastered to his forehead. Snot ran out of his nose as tears slipped out through closed eyelids.

Hero walked over with a wet rag and wiped Supervillain's face with it, watching as his eyes fluttered open- half rolled still, and dull- before they slipped closed again. He breathed heavily, seemingly unable to catch his breath.

"Villain," he cried. "Villain please. Please help me. I hurt, I hurt, I hurt, I hurt, I hurt... hot and... mmm nngh. V-villain."

"Shh dear." Hero cradled his head close to her, rubbing her thumb against his warm skin. "I'm here, calm down."

Supervillain nested deep into her, resting his face against her collarbone area. He sobbed silently, gripping at her with strange ferocity.

"I need Villain," he mumbled. "Need her..."

"I know, I know." Hero bit her lip, planting a kiss on his molten head. "I know."

Soon, Supervillain's wails ceased and Hero was left in silence with a sleeping Supervillain. It seemed a crime to move, so she laid there, still, and allowed the sick man to sleep cuddled up to her.

After a good ten minutes, Hero felt herseld dozing off. She adjusted herself into a more comfortable position, wrapped her arms around Supervillain and fell asleep as well.

My dearest diary, before you say anything, I am truly not in love with Supervillain whatsoever. This is a platonic relationship, nothing else.

Hero unconsciously, in her sleep, pulled Supervillain closer. She hugged him tight and he melted into her, content.

I'm not lying, I swear.

Hero awoke, groaning as she stretched. Still half asleep, she proceeded to pull a blanket over her and fall asleep once again, but she stopped when she saw Supervillain limply lying there.

She sighed and rested her palm on Supervillain's forehead. He leaned into her touch, murmuring something incoherently. His fever was still very high. Too high for Hero's liking.

"Wake up," Hero said, tapping Supervillain's cheek. He whimpered as his eyes fluttered open, staring at his caretaker with a dazed expression.

"Hi there," Hero cooed. She helped his barely conscious self to a sitting position and held a glass of water to his lips. He parted them and allowed Hero to pour some water into his mouth.

Then he swallowed, eyes dulling in exhaustion.

"You need this," Hero placed a couple Tylenol tablets on Supervillain's tongue. Then, she gave him some water. He swallowed weakly, head swaying and falling backwards, unable to support its own weight.

"Okay buddy, go back to sleep," Hero gently pushed him back to a reclining position and filled the creases and shooks of his neck and shoulder with ice packs and frozen vegetables.

Soon, he was asleep again, face neutral and placid in sleep. Hero smiled and brushed the hair out of his face, fingers lingering a bit too long.

She pulled away and stood up, walking towards her desk. Might as well watch some YouTube...

But when Supervillain whimpered in his fever induced dream, Hero ran back over and comforted him.

Then, like last time, she too fell asleep again.

You see Diary, I don't love him. He needed comfort that was all, nothing to it. I honestly don't love him. Hold on a minute, Supervillain needs help brushing his teeth. I'll be right back...

[worldsover]

Dal Segno ft. Chuu

length ✦ 3570

genres ✧ music making; oral fixation; facefuck; subby!Chuu

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Composition is only fifty percent of the process, you've heard, but it's closer to ten for you. For the importance of a solid melody and chord progression with the right instruments and singer, a song becomes less than the sum of its parts with bad mixing because all that effort goes to waste when you can’t hear something, or when something is too loud, or when a certain je ne sais quoi is wrong. But you do know. You don't have to be a chef to be a food critic but it certainly helps. Avoid muddling the lows as it waters down the soup. Carve space in the highs to prevent too much salt from killing the taste buds. Have at most five sounds at a time or else the flavors clash. Focus on these basic techniques to guide you as repetition wears down your mind. Funny. Repetition legitimizes especially in music yet here you are fatigued by repetition as though you weren't down four cups of black coffee. Repetition legitimizes. “From the sign,” the translation reads. Notation, simply instructing a musician to return to a certain point in a piece. You recognize it as an intro song you wrote years ago.

Glass and foam separate the undersized room. Cheap ramen and dampness in the hot air contribute to the odor. You would keep the fan on, if it were worth the extra time filtering out faint noise from recordings. The only scent that keeps you sane is a slight strawberry flavor lingering in the room. Jiwoo. Your muse. A large clock holds both of its hands near one with the lack of natural light muddling whether it’s AM or PM. Studios were always underground man-caves whether they were discount rooms or the signature workspace of the biggest producers. Here you are in the former. Look down at the Macbook and all the wires, sliders, and knobs. Deep breath. “Take 63,” you say into the cheap control room microphone.

“Not good enough.”

“Again.”

“One more.”

Look up. Jiwoo sucks on a grape lollipop. You stare. Watching her fixated on getting all flavor out of the purple sweet derails your flow state. See, work had a rhythm. Listen, volume up, hotkey to copy this clip, volume down. The obvious innuendo sends you offbeat. That perky butt bending over to get a notebook filled with lyrics entrenches the folds of your brain. She didn’t have to wear that skirt. You’ve seen that skirt already and you wish she weren’t wearing it. Oh, you really wish she weren’t wearing that skirt. Guilt sets in. You’re a trusted coworker, she, a naive girl. It takes a while to find your groove again. Your stare has yet to cease until she finally returns the eye contact with candy still in mouth. Her pink tongue laps to secure all the sugar and red pillows engulf the ever-shrinking circle. Pop. Anyone else and it would be calculated action.

“Oppa." Her voice resounds in your monitor headphones. "I don’t know if these harmonies really make sense. Why did you write the second voice to cross down below the main line? Plus it goes so low."

“To be fair, you wrote both of those melodies and you said you wanted them in the same song. Tell me anywhere else they’d work.”

“Ugh, let’s figure this out later. Next song.“

Dozens of takes later and Jiwoo’s frustration causes her to make mistakes. Sometimes she even tries to start singing with the sucker in her mouth. For the character she plays, you know she’s a professional and that she can be better. Yet hours later, she still could not get the vocal runs right. Incomplete songs bloat your project folder: "Jiwoo - Mania", "Jiwoo - Look Closer", "Jiwoo - Untitled Idea 21". Just a small side project that the company approved during another ample period of break time between comebacks. That’s why the director didn’t even let you use the company’s facilities, instead opting to rent out this cheap closet of a studio. At least no one would be mad about the amount of time you spent recording together.

You shift seats from the leather office chair to the white lovechair, the only two pieces of furniture that fit comfortably in the room. Jiwoo follows suit and leaves the recording booth, really more of a phone booth in square footage, while she huffs and puffs on her candy.

“I’m tired, oppa,” she says.

“Me too, Jiwoo. May I remind you that I’m not getting paid extra for this. Are you gonna focus or what?” your voice just a few cents down, just a bit harsher.

“I, I’m sorry.” A lick anyway. Her meek tone disappears, “Ya! You know how good your royalties are gonna be. Sole producer and all that. Plus, here you are still doing all this work for me." Why were you working so hard on this? "You know, if you just taught me how to use Ableton-”

“Then I’d be out of a job.”

Jiwoo frowns, “Wow, selfish much? You could’ve joined me as a trainee.”

“Nah, no way. Fish dance better.”

“Shut up, oppa. You would’ve easily made it with your, um, musical talent.” She clamps down on the lollipop with her mouth.

“You good? What was that?”

“Let’s," she stands promptly, "get back to recording.”

Crack. Jiwoo bites down on the lollipop and throws the stick in the trash. In ten minutes, she nails the verse she spent hours trying to get right. It'd be really nice to know what catalyzed that rally. You'd ask but driving Jiwoo back to her dorm is quiet as usual.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Make a good impression on someone, anyone, on your first day as a mixing engineer. That’s why you returned to the Blockberry Creative building with an extra bar of Melona in hand. A simple bribery. Light beamed down between two skyscrapers on a short girl with long hair and strands of bangs adorning her forehead. She stood outside the lobby, introducing herself to every passerby. You had to pinch her cheeks, the intrusive thought screamed.

She scurried up to you. “Hi! I’m Kim Jiwoo and I’m going to become an idol!”

Ah, a trainee. You already knew she was destined to become one. Well, not literally, you weren’t in charge of that. But her overflowing charm was impossible to ignore. You had to tease her though, “Are you sure?”

“Hey! What would you know about that, mister?” she said.

You bit down on your mango. “Mister? First of all, I’m only a high school senior,” her lips rounded in surprise, “And second, I’m your new audio guy, and I know for a fact they’re debuting you girls in order of talent.”

“Woooow. Well, I’ll have you know, I have a great voice!” She certainly spoke lyrically.  “Wait a minute, I didn’t know they hired people that young.” You pointed at her. “Okay, I’m in high school too. But that’s different, idols start this age.”

“I guess. I’ve been making music ever since I was a kid, and they liked what I had,” you said and Jiwoo nodded in understanding.

She fluttered her eyebrows. “Sooo, is that mango ice cream for me? Oppa?” A little surprised she already called you that, but it sounded right.

“No, I have this unopened strawberry-” Jiwoo snatched the half-eaten cold treat from your hand, and started licking it. Trouble she would be.

You spent many recording sessions together, alone after all the other members left. She cozied up to you because her little musical snippets had to become full-fledged tracks and you helped her out every time.

Something changed over the years however. Your interactions became colder. It felt like you were the only one who she would respond to in a deeper voice. Jiwoo wouldn't pepper you with silly acts or mess around. Maybe she took you more seriously which is how you managed to make more songs together regardless. Then, you stood idly by and watched her debut. Who didn't love her? But when she was with you, you missed the playfulness, the ice cream and her riffing over your playful guitar strums. It turned less of a hobby and more of a job though you never regretted any second with Jiwoo regardless.

Under the Earth's largest natural satellite, you shared a simple meal in black bean noodles. She was still in her hippie outfit from the comeback, and you handed her your jacket since it was cold. You realized, there was something else there that you were too inexperienced to notice. Your bodies' radiation replace the chill in the air, a bubble with just the two of you eating on the grass in a park near your dorm. A cliche slurping on one noodle and Jiwoo pulled away. In embarrassment, like a damn anime character, she hiccuped. Good thing you didn't close your eyes when you leaned in.

“Wanna make an album together?” Jiwoo says.

“Sure.”

You threw away the noodles’ package and escorted her home. That was all you expected anyway. Fine.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

“That’s enough!”

Three goddamn weeks. It's been three goddamn weeks and you've barely made any progress.

Barge into the booth, slam the door shut and raise your tone, just below a shout, “I've had it up to here! You know how many of my songs have been mashed together in some unholy quest for your perfection? Just one unknown something is missing and either you start complaining or we move on to the next."

She backs up from the mic to the insulated wall but you continue, paying no heed to her, as you spout your piece to the artificially cold air, "You know how much time I’ve spent outside working on these songs? These are songs I’ve saved up over years. And you trash them like they’re nothing. How do you even manage to record LOONA tracks?”

Regret sinks in. This was your passion project as much as hers. Was it frustration from the recordings? Weeks of the same routine and it took until now for you to give in to your temper.

"It wouldn't even be that bad! If you could just one time, you could be cute or cheerful again with me, or,” Fuck. So stupid. You don’t have to take your friendships for granted like this. You’re lucky enough she treats you as much. “Hold on. Wait, I'm-"

Examine her face. It’s not sour and she hasn’t stormed out or even slapped you.

“No, no. You don’t have to say it. I’m. I’m sorry oppa.” She looks down. “I'm the one messing up after all." Her heartbeat a harsh snare drum. "And you. You're. Different. Looking at you always made me feel some, something funny. Not funny but? Ugh. I wish I could explain it.”

You hold in your confusion.

She blabbers on, “Like, are. Are you mad? I promise you, I,” A nervous breath, ”I like you. Okay?"

Your confusion grows like the length of your silence.

"I’m just acting how I really am with you. Do you want to maybe, I don't know, like," her voice decrescendos, "Um. Punish me?”

Your heart, your brain are deprived of blood as it all rushes down. Did you hear that right? Not an apology, not retribution, but a call to punishment? Misinterpreting her, the consequences would be dire but that damned demure tone for such an erotic request. Was Jiwoo the exact type of slut constructed in your mind? The one that made you feel sinful for even imagining. No, no, there's no way.

Too late. Jiwoo must have noticed the absurd bulge now. It had to be these Adidas pants today. Fuck it. Life can’t be lived fully without risk. Hopefully, the same switch turned in her mind. You remove all ire from your face and say in earnest, “Do you like games?"

She lights up a little. You sigh relieved.

"Let’s try…”, you say, ”Strip recording.” She lights up a little more, so you go on, ”If I mess up anything, the mix, the composition, the arrangement, I’ll take off a piece of clothing. Your choice. And every time you mess up-”

Jiwoo unbuttons her denim shorts and brings them down her tight legs.

“D- did I say now?”

However, with her resolve steeled, she continues pulling them. "So what? I did mess up, right?" she says coquettish. Deliberate the turn she makes when she bows down to remove the shorts from her legs, Jiwoo reveals a hint of her innie pussy on that same little ass that ran through your mind earlier. A small trace of her thighs glistens, the only thing reflecting the single lightbulb’s glow in the microphone’s abode. She turns back to face you. "Please. Punish me."

Step closer until Jiwoo backs up to the soundproofing. She’s an eighth note away from your face, flashing her beady eyes and a coy smile, ”Where's your underwear?" A little drop spills out onto the floor, "And why are you so wet, Jiwoo-ah?”

Red on her cheeks, like she only now realized her dishevelment in front of you. “You just… Something about you snapping at me. I don’t get it either. I knew you'd do it, some day, I wanted you to," she mumbles in her best efforts to answer you.

“Have you ever worn underwear to the recordings?”

Those efforts continue to fail.

"Oh, Kim Jiwoo. What do I do with you?" One of your hands grabs her cheek. The other crawls down her back to grab her cheek.

“Oppa… Do I have to say it?”

“I want to hear every." Smack. "Word." Smack. She slips a moan.

“Can you," she says, "can you use my mouth?”

You disguise your long pause as thought, teasing the bare skin of her ass with your exploratory fingers to bide time, but it's an expression of your shock. The interruption helps you come up with a more suitable punishment however.

“How about this then. Every time you mess up, you have to give me a blowjob. Call?”

“Call!” Once more, unprompted, she kneels down in front of you and claws away your track pants. You roll with the punches.

"Oppaa," with an pronounced pop and in a sing-songy rhythm, "I've always wanted to know, if your dick-" It certainly didn't need Jiwoo's dainty hands pulling on your boxers, as it would've sprang out on its own with how like diamond your cock is getting.

"Fuuuck," the first profanity you ever hear her utter, she lilts. "Please. Oppa. Fuck my face?"

After all she said, she could still surprise you. Bring your hips forward and just as you would've her pussy, tease Jiwoo’s lips with the head of your dick. She parts them open, starved, anxious.

Hold her by the chin. "Wait."

She freezes at the command. Again, like foreplay, rub her lips with that head making them turn redder and more plump. You sweep aside her bangs to see her begging eyes. More importantly, slide your dick up to her nude forehead to slap as a first act of retribution. “A-ah!” Jiwoo stutters as you slap her face with your manhood again and again. Bring your cock back down and she's already a mess without you even having entered her mouth. A little drool from her shut lips gently massages your balls while a bit of precum drools from your slit to meet those lips.

Jiwoo mumbles as best as she can with you holding her jaw shut and your dick on her lips, "Please. Please. Shove your dick in me. I need you in my mouth."

You squint your rough eyes to command her.

Muffled still, "Oppa. Please. I. I need to taste you. You just, you're so thick and you're so long and cock is perfect and please I just-"  Loosen the grip on her chin to let her envelop the entire tip with her warm lips. "Mmmmm..." the moan resonates a saw wave and your stern resolve fades away on your first entrance into her face but it returns as her teeth rub against you. She quickly readjusts her jaw but it takes multiple attempts of you pulling out and her sucking you back until only silken lips hold your cock's head. Finally. A focused glint in her eyes. She endeavours to keep your tip in her mouth as long as possible.

You were mad at her earlier, weren't you?

Recall this anger and press yourself into her with all your hips' strength, working against the force of her lip's airtight suction. Saliva leaks to betray the seal. Jiwoo's prying tongue explores the underside of your cock but you reach an impasse while she's not even halfway down the shaft. You shove your dick deeper but to no avail and tears roll down her eyes joining the fluids coating her lips. Thus you exit back out. And back in you go to repeat and repeat and slowly increase your rate, becoming rough sex with her diligent mouth. All the positions you’ve imagined fucking her little pussy, you picture using her throat instead. Even in this compact studio, the couch, chair and desk would provide ample support for you to use her in many ways. The dirty thoughts inspire your speed right now. She slurps and gulps at every quick plunge but you realize her moans and rumbles aren't just incoherent reactions. You decelerate.

“Ah, ahhh, ahhhhhh… Ah’ve ahways- Hmph.” She slurs as she tries her hardest to communicate while her airway is blocked.

She slides up your cock to catch some air, “Thought about it- Mmm.”

“Your dick in my mouth and it’s just so pew, fect- Ahhh.” Jiwoo's lips let go gently then her tongue sticks out to lick up your cock and she shows off a trail of spit leading to your tip. A less patient man would’ve jerked himself off right there to grant her eyes and open mouth's unison request to feed on your cum.

Instead you retort, “You think you’ve earned it? Not even halfway down. Going nowhere, just like our recording sessions, huh?”

“Shut up!”

“Oof.” You’re already weak in the knees so Jiwoo's one handed shove sends your tailbone to the floor. Since you’re still dazed by her confounding strength, she takes initiative and kowtows her head into your lap to crawl down your cock with her tiny lips. Fondling your balls, Jiwoo starts from the furthest point she could muster on your shaft up to your cock head. Her tongue follows back and she starts playing under your tip to swirl that tongue around the most sensitive parts until it explores your slit. You buckle and groan. Jiwoo sucks and spits and sucks while she circles only the most minimal twisting motion of her lips on your head. This is the Jiwoo you know. Relentless. Only now your load is her magnus opus.

Her right hand strays downwards and her face on your dick blocks a full view but you can tell that hand is working as intensely as her mouth. As she strokes herself with more vigor, she starts humming a satisfied melody on your tip. In kind, your subtle grunts turn into full-bodied moans. You're a single measure away from your coda so you reach down and pull her off your cock by grabbing her neck.

You glare into her. “Desperate little girl, aren't you?”

Her breath is stilted and she's nearly shaking. “Please…” she sobs, ”You, you want it as bad as I do right?” Of course. “Won't you just cum for me?” Not now. Not when you have putty in your hands.

“You're making a mess. You can't take me all the way down. And I see that it’s not just your saliva coating the floor.” Point to the spot where she kneels, her drool joins a stain growing ever larger with a strand of juice from her pussy flowing as you continue to berate her. Then you point to her hand. Ha. “Were you playing with yourself using my pencil?”

“No… Wait!”

You back off. “Your top’s a mess too. Anyone can tell I just fucked your face.” You take off your black hoodie and give it to her. “I’ll see you tomorrow for our next session.”

“Wait, we didn’t book tomorrow, did we? Also, you can’t just leave me like this! Oppa!”

"I said, I'll see you tomorrow. I have to go,“ you remind her, ”Ha Rin’s picking you up. And give me back that pencil.”

She hands it to you, unable to meet your eyes despite hers lusting over your cock. You'll definitely use the alluring musk on it for later to save you from your self-induced blue balls. Exit the booth. Of course she barely waits to use your hoodie the same way since she doesn’t notice you lingering in the room. Instead of hiding the grey long sleeve that soaks her neck, your used sweatshirt covers Jiwoo’s face as her fingers make the mess on the floor larger.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

AFF, AO3

Swear to god I’m not just writing the cutest idols to write for. I mean maybe I am but also this answer from @nsfwtwicecatcher​ and all the subsequent pictures that I found of Chuu pouting inspired me. Also, this was a longer piece but I kept spinning my tires on it and decided to split it up, so look out for more.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Fermata, the aforementioned sequel

[distinctlywhumpthing]

Together 7: First lash.

Previous — Masterlist — Next

CW: explicit language and content, multiple whumpees, torture, captivity, restraints, vomit, beating, blood, welts, hunger/starvation, conditioning, dehumanization, multiple whumpers, masked whumper (clown mask), letmeknowifimissedany

They’re taking her out when I wake up. She goes quietly. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad. My empty stomach is nauseatingly sour. I pace the small room. The basement floor is damp like it’s absorbing moisture from below. I think about last night. Who knows how long she was silently crying. If she’s not going to talk, I should wait until I can see her face to make sure I don’t upset her again. I don’t know who these people are or why I’m here. I hate to think what it means if someone like her, so innocent and fragile, is here and acts like that.

I follow her example and cooperate when they collect me in their ski masks even though they put a pillowcase over my head and for all I know she’s never coming back. They take me into a room down the hallway and the floor is the same concrete the whole way. I keep having to swallow. My saliva feels thick and I can’t seem to get it out of my mouth no matter how much I gulp it down.

Heavy hands force me to my knees and pull my hands over my head. They bind my wrists in restraints, tightening them until I can feel the places the cotton padding has been worn down and the leather bites into my skin. I can’t help but picture her delicate wrists as the ones that broke them in. They do the same to my ankles, trapping me in an L-shape before pulling off the pillowcase and leaving me in the dark. It smells like metal. I think I’m chained to the floor and ceiling but there’s not a single link of slack.

I vomit thick spit and bile onto the floor. My stomach continues heaving even when all that’s left is saliva dragging its way down my lower lip. It sticks to my chin when I whip my head up at the sound of the door opening. I see a silhouette before they close us into darkness. A few seconds later, a light comes on. He’s dressed exactly like the others except, instead of a ski mask, he’s wearing a clown mask. We used to put on the scary versions with bloody, unnatural mouths and wrinkles in the rubber at the team house for the Halloween party every year, snaking the hose up the neck opening to do keg stands.

His mask is just smooth white with downturned eyes and a cartoonish smile—definitely worse than Twisty. It must be lined with black mesh because I can’t see anything underneath. He stands there, jeering at me. My tongue feels like a rock and my throat is still thick. I don’t know if I should say there’s been a misunderstanding or beg or just stay silent. I go with the latter, hoping that maybe that her silence is strategic. I try not to think about her spending any time here. He takes slow, measured steps forward to pick something up, let’s it unroll so I can see. All the moisture feels gone. I can’t even swallow.

I count the first handful of swings, still managing to stay quiet except for my breath. They’re burning and sharp.

When I lose count, I start begging, “Please stop, please I’ll do anything, please!!”

The welts begin to layer themselves into a blazing, throbbing ache.

“What do you wan—nnghh—”

I can’t breathe, my face is covered with spit, snot, and drool as I scream. The air doesn’t seem to reach my lungs but I know it’s there because it’s against my legs and the belt slices through it audibly with each swing.

I’m openly sobbing now. “I don’t even know why I’m h—agghhh—”

I dissolve into pleading incoherently. There’s a moment, between each blow, as the belt drags across the back of my calves, that a wild part of my mind panics that they’re gone completely because it doesn’t feel right, the whisper sensation, even pulling through the rawness, after the sharp pain. Eventually, it changes when the leather starts to drag through blood.

—

Something touches my face and I lash out. She’s already keeping her distance so, thankfully, I don’t hit her before I realize where I am.

“M’sorry,” I croak, trying to focus on her face. I can’t let myself focus on anything else.

She’s sitting on her heels, pressed into the corner between her bed and the cabinet, her fingers twisted together. When I meet her gaze, she leans forward, resting her elbows on the floor, lowering herself into my line of sight. Her wide eyes are puffy and rimmed with red.

I hate to think of her crying again.

She tilts her head to the side, gaze slipping from my face to my legs. When she looks at me again, she pulls her bottom lip into her mouth.

I don’t know if I can push myself up to really look. My head still feels heavy and clouded, either from the pain or from however long it has been since I last ate. I look over my shoulder as best I can, head aching when my eyes reach the limit of their range of motion. My calves are wrapped in clean white gauze and so are my feet. The borders of the pain had been so blurred, I had no idea it included my feet.

“S’not so bad,” I mumble.

I look back at her, too fast, and my head swims.

“Mnnnm,” I groan, squeezing my eyes shut.

When I open them after a few breaths, she’s holding a cup of water. Tilts it gently against my lips so I don’t have to move. She gets me a second cup when I finish.

“Thank you, Doll,” I say, smiling what I hope is a non-threatening smile.

She dips her head once in a nod and looks me over again, bites her lip.

“What is it?” I ask, even though I’m guessing she won’t answer.

Her eyes look up to the bed.

There’s only one reason I’m not screaming in pain and that’s because I am not moving. I can pretend that the pain is a separate entity, far away. If I move, it will migrate, overbearing and all-consuming.

“I think I’ll just spend the night here,” I say casually like I’m just going to stay at my parents’ because I don’t feel like driving back to campus. I wonder if they even care that I’m missing.

She purses her lips and looks down at the floor.

It’s wet. I know this. I can feel that my clothes are damp but it’s just as likely sweat. It doesn’t feel particularly dirty even though I’m sure it’s also not clean.

“Sweetie, I don’t think I can move,” I whisper.

That doesn’t go over well. She seems so distraught by the idea. Her eyes flick all over the room like she’s hoping to suddenly find some other way to help me as she presses her trembling lips together. I find myself willing to undergo a little suffering if there’s any chance it will comfort her.

“Okay, hey—I’ll give it a try,” I offer, unconvincing in my attempt to sound light. I start pushing myself onto my hands and knees.

She rushes to help me even though she flinches away from me and I’m pretty sure I could overlap my fingers, maybe even twice, around her upper arm. I get my body onto the bed and then she proves herself stronger than she looks when she lifts my legs, one at a time, so I don’t have to.

I’m still winded and dizzy by the time I get up there. I’ve never felt so exhausted.

“Teamwork makes the dream work,” I manage to huff.

That earns me a twitch of her lip. The closest thing I’ve seen to a smile since we met.

She brings me another cup of water. Helps me drink and then gently sweeps my hair off my forehead so she can dab a cool cloth there. She refolds the towel and leaves it draped over the back of my neck before moving to sit on her bed. She tucks her feet underneath her legs and starts playing with her hair. She finds a braid, undoes it, and seperates it into two even smaller braids, quickly, over and over. I fall asleep watching her long, nimble fingers.

—

She wakes me up later, or maybe it’s the next day, with another wet cloth but the first thing I notice is that I can smell food. Her gaze directs me to the two soups sitting on the metal cabinet but she looks back at me, furrowing her brow.

“I think I can sit up,” I say, guessing her concern.

She holds onto my shoulders as I do it, even though if I went down she’d go with me. I sit with my knees up and gingerly place my feet on the mattress in front of me. It seems they only caught stray lashes, so they aren’t feeling nearly as awful as my calves. I lean my head against the wall to catch my breath. I’m sweating and dizzy from the movement, I need to eat.

She comes to sit next to me with the soup, clearly intending to feed it to me with the plastic spoon.

I smile at her. “You’re such an angel—you don’t have to do that.”

She shakes her head, looking down, like she doesn’t mind, but passes me the soup anyway.

About halfway through scarfing it down, she reaches over to rest her fingertip on the handle of my spoon before I can use it to shovel more into my mouth.

“Oh, I should probably eat slower…”

She dips her head once in a nod, then looks down at her hands.

“You should eat, too, while it’s still hot,” I tell her.

Her dark eyes trace my posture and search my face.

I insist, “I’m feeling much better, I promise. Please eat.”

She turns and I notice the whole side of her face is bruising. It wasn’t there before, they must have taken her while I was asleep. Even the corner of her eye looks bloodshot.

“Hey, your face—” I say, reaching out without thinking.

She flinches out of reach so fast that she falls onto the ground, eyes locked on my hand.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I apologize quickly, trying to keep my voice soft. “I didn’t mean to scare you, Honey. I swear I won’t hurt you.”

She swallows, still cowering on the floor, her lower lip trembling. She’s so afraid and skittish, with those impossibly wide eyes that do something to me.

I wait for a few more breaths but she still hasn’t recovered. “Are you okay?” I whisper.

My question seems to make it worse. She closes her eyes, her face growing lined, and her breathing starts to silently hitch. She’s crying.

“Hey, hey,” I murmur. I have no idea how to comfort her when I have no idea what she’s been through and I’m the idiot making it worse. “Please, it’s okay. It’s just you and me. We’re alright, Love.” I don’t even know her name so I keep calling her nicknames, feeling even more insensitive because maybe it’s coming off wrong. I don’t know what else to do. This is so messed up.

She blinks at me, finally meeting my eyes again, fresh tears still falling from hers.

My throat aches. “Look, really, I’m sorry. Please, come eat with me. I promise I won’t hurt you—I won’t touch you. Will you sit next to me again?” I sound desperate.

After a few more breaths, she does, coming to perch on the edge of my bed within arms reach but just barely, like a bird about to fly away.

Previous — Masterlist — Next

Taglist: @deluxewhump

[worldoffanfiction2021]

{Image Sources: Dong Hua: https://daydaynews.cc/en/entertainment/419895.html Fengjiu: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/1196337391276429/}

The family of three deities had bid adieu to their relatives in Quingqui and taken the magical boat to Bihai Cangling. Dijun and Fengjiu had both managed to handle their respective duties and arranged for messengers to visit them here at their new place of residence, actually their real home, for the next few months. They were all very excited about it.

Fengjiu was remembering their last visit fondly. The last time she had been here, she had spent some magical time with Dijun.

Dijun was also remembering his last visit. But there wasn’t any fondness in those memories for him. He had been there was to build the Star Light ward. He had not expected to come back alive to this place, much less to come back alive with his wife and son. He looked at Xiaobai and marveled at her. It had been her who had saved him and saved his home. She was the best. He lovingly played with her hair.

Gungun saw that they were about to reach to a beautiful landscape, the likes of which he had never seen. “Father, your home is so beautiful. It’s even better than the Sky Kingdom!”, he exclaimed clapping excitedly.

“Gungun’s reaction to Bihai Cangling is just like yours when you came here for the first time.”, said Dijun smilingly to Xiaobai. "It's your home too, Gungun. It’s our home.", he added. He liked the sound of that very much.

Xiaobai noticed that a lot had changed since she had last visited. Row of fruit trees and vines had been planted - grapefruits, pears and grapes. There was a long corridor with an artificial hill. The hill really looked like a real rocky mountain, just smaller than a mountain. On either side of the corridor there were beautiful trees of foiling flowers. Spiritual birds danced to ‘paying homage to the Phoenix’ near by.

Then there was a pavilion overlooking a lotus pond. White and pink lotuses swayed gracefully in a cool breeze there. White sandalwood on each side of the pavilion gave the seating area a perfect cover from sun.

Xiaobai recalled her own words from the last time she had visited. Dijun had done everything she had asked for. She was transfixed.

When they walked a little further, her jaw dropped to the floor. Sitting atop a slightly raised platform was a house. Not just any house - the bamboo house she had drawn! Oh, Dijun!!!! She stood dumbfounded with tears in her eyes.

Dijun realized she had stopped walking and turned around. When he saw her face he asked with worry, “What’s wrong? Did I mess it up?” Forgetting about Gungun watching them, she ran forward and hugged him. She buried herself in his arms and said, “No, Dijun. No mess up. This is perfect. You made our home. Our home!” She choked on her emotions and couldn’t say anything else. Dijun smiled and planted a kiss on her head.

Gungun was watching all this and came running. “Mother and Father are kissing again. I want a kiss too.”, he giggled. Dijun picked him up and twirled him high. His giggles and Dijun’s laughter filled the space. And Xiaobai’s heart. They were home.

When they went inside, Xiaobai realized that all the basic things they had planned for, had been done. There was a study, a living room and a well-lit, well ventilated kitchen. The large kitchen window overlooked the fruit trees. There were two identical rooms - one for Gungun and another for his little brother/ sister, as Dijun explained, his eyes hinting mischievously. It made Gungun very excited to think that he would have a playmate. Then there were a couple guest rooms. Dijun and Xiaobai’s  room was a spacious suite with a large bed. A foiling flower tree was the headboard of that bed. They even had a nice little hot spring next to their room.

“Dijun, the house is great, but there’s still work to do. We have to set up the kitchen, the wardrobes and such.”, began Xiaobai. “If I do everything, what will you do?”, he interrupted her, pretending to be arrogant and tapped her forehead. Then he leaned in and whispered in her ears “But I have already done so much work here. You owe me big this time.  I will collect my dues from you at night.” Seeing her cheeks instantly color up pleased him.

There was a balcony behind their room. It overlooked a large playground with targets set up for practicing archery, an open space for sword plays and martial arts. On one side was another building. “That is a workshop where we can forge weapons. I have also placed all the weapons I have made or collected in a room in there. I am sure you will like it.”, said Dijun. She looked at him with pride in her eyes. Dijun felt that all his efforts had been completely worth it.

“I am so hungry, mother. When can we eat?”, asked Gungun. “You and Father can put your things in your rooms. I will quickly get food ready.”, said Xiaobai patting him. They all went their separate directions and got busy.

After some time they all got together in the dining room and ate a simple but delicious meal. Fengjiu had found that right next to the kitchen was a vegetable and herb garden. She had picked some fresh veggies to prepare rice porridge and mushrooms-vegetables stir fry. Some lentil cakes rounded up the meal. She had always been good in cooking. Her years in mortal realm had helped her perfect  the art of making do with whatever was available.

After they cleared up all the food, Fengjiu wanted to go to her room and take a nap. But Dijun insisted they go to the lotus pond and catch some fish. She almost suspected that he wanted to keep her away from their bedroom. “May be he has made a mess in there with all the stuff. I better not go in there or else I will end up cleaning everything myself.”, she thought to herself as she followed her guys to the pond. When they got there, she rested her head in Dijun’s lap and dozed off happily.

She woke up a little while later when tiny hands were trying to tap on her head. "Mom, wake up! Look I caught a fish!! My first ever fish!!!", Gungun was showing off with eyes wide with excitement. She couldn't help by smile at him. "I will make sweet and sour fish for dinner tonight with this. You both like it, don't you?" She said. Two heads full of silver hair nodded in fervent agreement. "Like father - like son", she chuckled.

She completely lost herself in cooking dinner. In addition to sweet and sour fish, she also made sticky rice and soup. "For Dijun and Gungun. They need this nourishment.", she told herself. All this was gobbled up pretty quickly between the three of them.

After dinner they took off for a long walk that led them back to the weapon forge. Dijun took them in and Fengjiu was like a kid in the candy store. She enjoyed designing and creating mechanical weapons. Among other things, this was something she and Dijun had in common. Gungun was quite curious and looked around with amazement. But he was slowly beginning to get tired and needed to get to bed. So they all returned homewards.

"You take him to his room and get him ready for bed. I will bring him a glass of milk. He will sleep well with that.", said Dijun. Fengjiu nodded and walked away holding Gungun's little hand. In his room, she helped him bathe and change. They both were happy they didn't need to dye his hair anymore. As she was settling him in his bed, Dijun came in with a glass on milk in his hand. He made sure Gungun finished it up. Then they both dimmed the candles, kissed Gungun sweet dreams and left the room.

When they reached the doorstep of their bedroom, Dijun gestured Fengjiu to stop. "What's wrong?", asked Fengjiu puzzled. "Close your eyes.", ordered Dijun. "Why should I?", replied Fengjiu more puzzled. "Please, Xiaobai. Do as you are told.", Dijun coaxed her. So she sighed and closed her eyes. "You are acting very weird tonight.", she said.

She found herself being lifted in his arms. She felt the door opening and he walking in with her.

"Can I open my eyes now?" Feng Jiu asked. "Not yet, just a little bit longer.", Dijun replied. She could feel the smile in his voice.

"What's going on? I am opening my eyes now." She nagged him anxiously as she felt herself being lowered on something extremely soft.

"Wait. Just a few more moments.", Dijun replied as he adjusted her clothes. "Okay, you can open your eyes now.", he said.

She was so not ready for what she was seeing. The room had been transformed. It looked like a bride's chamber on a wedding night. There was an altar placed for heaven worship ceremony. Gold, white and purple lanterns adorned the ceiling. Matching candles, flower arrangements and curtains hung everywhere. Every seat in the room and the whole bed was covered in foiling flower petals. She was draped in her wedding gown. And then as she turned towards Dijun she saw that he himself was looking extremely handsome in his wedding attire. Nothing in the room was nearly as mesmerizing as the sight of the regal man himself. He took her breath away and she could not help but stare at him open mouthed.

"I never gave you a proper wedding. I have regretted that very much.", he said huskily as he walked towards her with a purple veil. "Tonight, let's get married, Xiaobai.", he said softly as he came close and arranged the veil over her hair. She didn't know what to say or do. She was completely under his spell.

He led her by her hand towards the altar. They kowtowed to the heaven and earth. They remembered her parents and kowtowed for them. Then they bowed to each other. Very carefully he lifted her veil and took her hands in his.

"In all three eternities you are the only one who has moved my heart, Xiaobai. You, little fox, will always belong to me.", he looked deeply into her eyes and promised possessively.

She smiled with stars in her eyes and promised him back, "In any eternity I will bring you in my life. Because I love you the most Dijun, you will always belong to me."

He leaned in and planted kisses on her face. He kissed her hair, her forehead, her eyes, her nose and then covered her lips with his. He felt her respond to him and deepened the kiss. She trembled and moved closer in his arms. Slowly he moved to her ear. "Ever since I have had this dress made for you, I have imagined so many ways I would like to undress you from it.", he teased huskily. "Um? So you got this elaborate and extravagant dress made only so that you could undress me from it?", she asked pulling back and squinting her eyes at him. "HHmm.. ", he pursed his lips and nodded solemnly. "You are so... ", she started to say, but completely lost her train of thought under his hot, hungry gaze. He claimed her lips again and started undressing her.

[no-other-words]

on the study of eroticism

Synopsis: Xie Lian discovers that there are some parts of his body that invites certain sensations and he can’t quite figure out what to do with it. His husband helps. Rated M | 2500w | post-canon, domestic fluff, a little spicy [ Read on AO3 ]

A sudden heat comes from nowhere, slowly bubbling from the bottom of his stomach. The spot where Hua Cheng kissed is sending tingles down his spine. It’s…a weird feeling.

Then a mischievous tongue swipes at the same spot and—his body jerks.

“Ah—!”

Xie Lian quickly covers his mouth. Was that…him? Did that keen, airy sound, full of want and something else come out of his lips? He’s never heard himself like this before. So foreign to his own ears. So strange.

“I didn’t know Your Highness has so many…receptive spots.”

---

The first time it happens, Xie Lian is utterly mortified.

They’re lazing away the afternoon, sitting on a hill near Puqi Shrine. Xie Lian’s snug against Hua Cheng and entirely engrossed in a book he found in an old book store.

Hua Cheng is quiet the entire time. Xie Lian learns that he’s okay being the silent accompaniment as long as he gets to watch Xie Lian to his heart’s content. It’s also out of respect, ‘this one doesn’t wish to break gege’s concentration when he’s reading.’

The summer breeze brings a refreshing chill to the otherwise humid weather. Xie Lian swipes his hair to the side, getting some air to his neck. He should look into lighter clothing, now that the—

Xie Lian’s thoughts cut off.

He feels Hua Cheng’s lips against the back of his neck. Warm breaths tickle his skin that make goosebumps rise deliciously down his arms. Xie Lian’s about to make an off-hand comment when those same lips open and place a daring kiss.

A sudden heat comes from nowhere, slowly bubbling from the bottom of his stomach. The spot where Hua Cheng kissed is sending tingles down his spine. It’s…a weird feeling.

Then a mischievous tongue swipes at the same spot and—his body jerks.

“Ah—!”

Xie Lian quickly covers his mouth. Was that…him? Did that keen, airy sound, full of want and something else come out of his lips? He’s never heard himself like this before. So foreign to his own ears. So strange.

So…lewd.

Hua Cheng does it again and this time Xie Lian grabs the legs on either side of him in a panic. His shoulders shrink inwards, a weak attempt to both escape and invite for more (more more). Xie Lian’s whole body buzzes with this sudden onslaught of pleasure and he’s not sure how to process it.

Something pulls his legs together and he realizes it’s himself. Squeezing tightly to hide the embarrassment.

He’s hard. Full on aroused by just a kiss on his neck.

What is this?!

Xie Lian peers back to see Hua Cheng, his gaze loving as always in his carefree and youthful appearance.

“Yes gege?” His husband asks as if he has no idea just how much Xie Lian is affected by him. “Did I do something wrong?”

A voice tells Xie Lian that Hua Cheng knows exactly what, but the unassuming smile on Hua Cheng’s face pushes any suspicion away.

“N-no. It’s nothing.”

The rest of their afternoon go undisturbed. Hua Cheng doesn’t make any more advances and lets Xie Lian to his reading. At least he tries to.

The intensity from Hua Cheng’s stare weighs heavy on his back.

---

It festers in his mind for the next passing days.

What had happened seems so trivial yet profoundly curious. Xie Lian has experienced pleasures before (oh has he, with Hua Cheng’s relentlessness and skill in bed). But never has he imagined that a single touch to that specific spot can incite such a reaction.

From his voice. The sharp pitch, with just a touch of breathlessness, almost choking from the sudden amount of pure want. He doesn’t think himself capable of producing such a sound. Ought to be dying from embarrassment.

Not even the heat from the kitchen fire can match the fever running through his head. He should concentrate on the task at hand. Concentrate!

He’s making radish soup tonight, specifically requested by his husband. Despite having an army of servants at their disposal, Xie Lian prefers to do the cooking. Especially for dinner. It reminds him of slow days at Puqi Shrine, when Hua Cheng was San Lang who made sure to keep his distance and didn’t dare to step over the line. And now?

Now he sneaks to Xie Lian’s side with every chance he gets, pretending to move with innocent intent when they both know Hua Cheng is itching to cop a feel. Xie Lian lets him. There is comfort in close proximity.

Xie Lian pauses at cutting the radishes and touches the back of his neck.

Huh. Nothing.

Curious indeed.

“And then?” Hua Cheng breaks him out of his reverie.

“Hmm?”

“Gege was telling me how those idiots got into a brawl again.”

Xie Lian straightens himself up and says, “ah yes. It was the usual misunderstanding between them. Mu Qing said something about Jian Lan and Feng Xin took it the wrong way. You know how he can be.”

“Foolishly so.”

Xie Lian sends him a not-so-stern look that Hua Cheng shrugs at. Is he wrong? He supposes not. Hua Cheng is rarely wrong in many things. He boasts when time calls for it, rightfully so. It’s one of his traits that Xie Lian finds so charming.

Xie Lian finishes up chopping up the green onions before dumping them into the pot. The aroma smells right this time. No sourness hidden in the air. Last time, Hua Cheng had suggested to maybe leave the vinegar out. Good call on that.

“San Lang, come have a taste.”

Hua Cheng obediently saunters over, stopping behind Xie Lian. He towers over him, both hands resting Xie Lian’s waist and the latter naturally leans back. Xie Lian scoops up a small amount of soup and blows at it.

“Careful, it’s hot.”

Bending forward, Hua Cheng joins in and blows at the steaming spoon of soup. He shifts slightly and suddenly Xie Lian feels a soft stream of air tickling his ear.

A gasp escapes his lips before he could stop. His hand jerks, spilling soup over the pot.

There it is again. That tingling. The heat, travelling from the tip of his ear to the pool of his stomach and down to the place where he’s really trying not to think of right now. That blow of air to his ear had awaken something within his body, brought back memories of feverish nights and mind-blowing pleasure.

Xie Lian quietly swallows and wills his body to settle. It’s unseemly, getting this a strong of a reaction from such a meaningless act. It’s the same as when Hua Cheng had kissed the back of his neck. His body freezes then heats up in want, in need, in desire and—and what is it? There must be something wrong.

Hua Cheng, oblivious to all the turmoil battling inside Xie Lian, continues to blow at the soup. Or whatever’s left of it. Xie Lian should scoop another batch up. That’s right. Hua Cheng needs a taste. Why is his hand shaking?

Another steady stream of cool breath caresses his ear from behind and—

“San Lang!”

His cry comes out more as a desperate whimper, indecently so. Xie Lian’s other hand grips the edge of the counter so tightly that he can see veins lining out. He presses forward, willing his arousal away.

“It’s hot right? This one’s only taking measures to cool it down a bit,” says Hua Cheng coyly. “Can’t risk our tongues burning.”

Something else is already burning in Xie Lian and it’s definitely not his tongue.

Hua Cheng takes the arm holding the spoon and brings it towards to them. He takes a quick sip of the soup, waits, then gives Xie Lian an approving smile. Eyes bright and full of delight and…playful?

“Gege makes the best soup! It warms me up all nice inside.”

Xie Lian’s eyebrows twitch.

He watches Hua Cheng proceed to set the table in an easy-going manner. He wears a small grin that Xie Lian usually overlooks as contentment but now it seems to be carrying something more. Satisfaction. Amusement. Pride.

Is Hua Cheng catching on?

---

The ghost king is up to something. By now Xie Lian is sure of it.

Hua Cheng is an affectionate being, giving gentle brushes of their hands here and a soft nuzzle there. His husband is surprisingly rather tactile and he is all for it.

But lately, there has been a lot more sneak attacks. Ones that ruffle Xie Lian’s feathers, tickle his nerves, invoke those same strange and embarrassing sounds that Xie Lian is failing miserably at preventing. Some touches result in no reaction, just a weird look from Xie Lian. Others…oh how they make him shiver with unforeseen bliss.

It is almost as if Hua Cheng is looking for treasure chests hidden all over the map that is his body and the only way to uncover them is to blindly cop a feel or blow a kiss.

Today is no exception.

They’re having a stroll down the streets of Ghost City. Its civilians are delighted to see Hua Chengzhu out in public. A rare sighting. Of course, it is no surprise that beside their lord is his esteemed companion, the one with the bamboo hat and easygoing smile.

Xie Lian stops at a stall on the side, something catching his eyes. A display of old archives all crusty and tattered and really shouldn’t be up for sale. But Xie Lian is Xie Lian and knowledge is limitless so he curiously glances over the titles.

Chronicles of the Flesh-Eating Toad

A Thousand Nights in a Thousand Brothels

Great Conquests of Black Water Sinking Ships

“Anything catching our esteemed guest fancy?” The stall-owner asks. She’s a rather old woman, wrinkles marked deep into her leathery skin. One eye atrociously scarred and her attempt at a smile offers the opposite effect of warm and welcome.

Xie Lian hums in earnest, thinking seriously before answering. They quickly enter a conversation on forgotten literature and unwritten history. Hua Cheng, naturally, is already by Xie Lian’s side, a hand on his back.

That same hand, despite behaving at first, spread itself across the lower of his back, pressing just so. Xie Lian stops in his words then hitches a startled breath when he feels Hua Cheng’s hand slither upwards. It’s agonizingly slow, with fingers kneading ever so slightly against the bumps of his spine, inducing little humming shockwaves riding throughout his entire body.

The area below his stomach throbs, warming again to the same sensation. This time, Xie Lian keeps his voice in check and lets out only a choked breath.

“Gege?”

His ear tingles.

“Something on your mind?” Hua Cheng asks, leaning close. “Do you not feel well?”

His back. He’s thinking of his lower back and how it hums and makes him twist inside. He’s thinking of a kiss planted behind his neck and a sensual blow of breath to his ear tips. He thinks of cool skin and sweat, of long nights and vivid images, of a bed adorned in red and of highs he’s never ascended to before until Hua Cheng Hua Cheng San Lang—

Xie Lian staggers a little, alarming the stall-owner. She doesn’t want to offend Hua Chengzhu’s cherished person. But it is not her at all. It is the thumb now caressing lightly over the inside of his wrist and aaah, that’s another spot so sensitive to Hua Cheng’s touch. And he recognizes that this has all been done on purpose.

A whimper escapes his throat. Oh, how red his face must be.

“Gege doesn’t look too good. You’re warming up. Perhaps we should return for the night.” His voice is filled with worry but Xie Lian now knows the little game Hua Cheng is playing. He peers over and sure enough, that corner of Hua Cheng’s lips is gleefully curved.

“I didn’t know Your Highness has so many…receptive spots.”

---

His full assault comes when Xie Lian is at his weakest.

When the martial god is entangled in sheets, splayed across the bed in a state of helplessness. He writhes at every shock sent from below where ghost meets god, cries on each impact. Hua Cheng dominates from behind him, chest to back, and he takes full control of every nerve in Xie Lian’s body.

A hot tongue laps at the back of his neck and another wave of heat shoots straight to his arousal. This time, Xie Lian learns not to hold back and he moans keenly into the pillow.  When the same tongue moves to behind his ear, his voice shifts into an obscene-sounding whine.

“San Lang…San Lang—ah!”

He feels the incoming wave of pleasure, a tense ball forming inside just waiting to burst and he can’t wait. Oh the anticipation, oh the blissful release Xie Lian’s clumsily chasing right now. That Hua Cheng’s demanding.

“Gege is especially sensitive tonight,” Hua Cheng remarks, voice low and deceivingly calm. “He seems to be more vocal than usual.”

Xie Lian grinds desperately into the bed as Hua Cheng grinds into him. He always manages to hit that sweet spot that makes Xie Lian sing.

And he does. He sings brokenly into the night when Xie Lian finally comes wrecked and sweet. His whole body quivers, intoxicated in sheer delight.

But Hua Cheng doesn’t stop there. He mercifully gives Xie Lian a short moment before resuming his thrusts. The hand that had held Xie Lian’s moves to the base of his neck and slides sensually down his spine. Hot lips press against Xie Lian’s neck and begin to suckle at the skin.

It’s all too overwhelming. Xie Lian curves his back deliciously so, prying away from Hua Cheng’s touch yet yearning for more more more.

“S-San Lang..too much…”

His plead is in vain. Hua Cheng’s other hand wraps itself around Xie Lian’s wrist and the thumb languidly rubs over the erogenous area.

“What’s that, gege? Is this spot too much? This one doesn’t think so,” Hua Cheng murmurs as he blows softly at Xie Lian’s ear again. “Who knew gege had so many hidden treasures?”

Jolts of bliss come at every direction. His lower back, his neck, his ear, his wrist. Xie Lian can feel himself hard again and he can’t—he can’t again.

“San Lang, San Lang!”

Xie Lian abruptly knocks Hua Cheng off and flip them over, pinning his husband down with his legs and hands. His chest burns from heavy breathing and he takes a moment to gain composure. Hua Cheng wears an arrogant smirk.

He wants to wipe it right off.

“I like it when gege gets a little rough.”

Xie Lian huffs. “San Lang is being a bully.”

Hua Cheng raises a doubtful eyebrow. “This one merely wants to make His Highness feel good.”

Not fair, not fair at all. Hua Cheng lies there all comfortably, basking gloriously in the fact that he’s made Xie Lian this euphoric and happy. Knowing he’s made him feel so loved and adored and deserving.

Leaning down, Xie Lian presses a long kiss to Hua Cheng’s lips before moving down his jawline. Soft, lingering pecks trail along his husband’s neck. He stops at the Adam’s apple and gives a lick before continue. Hua Cheng takes one deep breathe—good, he’s relaxed.

Xie Lian arrives at his collarbone, gives a good stare, then gently bites on the edge.

Hua Cheng jolts beneath him, his abdominal clenching on instinct. Xie Lian hears a choked grunt, cut midway as if it was stopped desperately. He looks up to see Hua Cheng scrunching his eyebrows in slight confusion. Arousal swims in his eyes.

Xie Lian grins.

“Found yours.”

---

a/n: erogenous zones fascinate me.

[ineloqueent]

a night in

Brian May x Fem!Reader

synopsis: your plans for christmas turn sour when you fall ill. but at least you’ve got Brian there with you.

warnings: swearing

word count: 2.2k

⭒

The end of December was approaching at a pace which could only be described as rapid, and christmas was lurking around the corner in a rather sinister manner, given that you had hardly got anything done in the weeks leading up to it, and were now facing the daunting task of wrapping presents, decorating the tree, and baking enough reserves of biscuits to last the presence of your sweet-toothed family.

It was the day before christmas, which really did not bode well for either you or your boyfriend. You both had yet to pack, having felt almost nothing but reluctance toward the idea of going to visit your family— you because your family, as much as you loved them, often drove you up the wall, and Brian because he had never met your family, and was nervous for the occasion to finally arise.

Typical Brian.

He worried about everything. It was quite sweet, really, the way he worried about your family not liking him, because Brian was just about the best thing ever to have happened to you, and with his humility and his kindness, his cleverness and his wit, you could not imagine anyone seriously disliking him.

Except for when he left. That made you quite upset with him. Especially on the mornings where he had to get up early, and left you alone in bed without a source of warmth.

But for this morning, at least, he still had yet to get up, despite the multitude of things on your combined to-do list.

Instead, the two of you lay intertwined with each other, soft breaths and soft skin and mouths.

Brian was warmth, and you pressed closer to him, tightening your grasp around his impossibly slim frame, breathing in the smell of his hair and his skin, strawberries turned musky with sleep, like Turkish delight offered on a wintry day— some semblance of a fairytale was interwoven with his curls, with the blushing pink of his lips, and the contrast between the two.

He shifted in your arms, a sigh falling from him the way that the first snow of the year always falls— peaceful, gentle, almost tentatively— the way he’d kissed you the first time.

You remembered it as though it were yesterday.

You’d been sitting beside him on the grass of Hyde Park, the lazy summer sun circling overhead, and you’d pushed your sunglasses up atop your head, and glanced over at Brian.

He’d smiled at you, and you’d sighed, lying back on the grass. Brian had followed suit, and the two of you had gazed up at the sky in tandem, watching the clouds turn about the sky like the whitewash of the sea, becoming and undoing themselves all at once, fluctuating between infinite numbers of shapes which appeared to your imagination as animals or plants, people and inanimate objects.

“This is how life should always be,” Brian had said.

You’d hummed in agreement. “No responsibilities, no schedules, just the sky and the world beneath it.”

“And you.”

“Me?” You had turned your head to face him, your fingers knotting in the grass as your pulse elevated by no intentions of its own.

“Mmm.” His curls had fluttered in the breeze as he’d nodded, his hazel eyes turning your legs to caramel beneath you. You were glad you were not standing.

“Brian?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

He’d opened his mouth as though to say something, but then seemed to have lost all ability to do so, and pressed his lips together.

Slowly— so slowly you thought he’d change his mind halfway and leave you lying motionless on the ground, unable to move for how closely Brian Harold May had been to kissing you— he raised himself to his elbows, and moved to hover above you.

His exhale touched your lips before his own did, and you shuddered involuntarily. Then, he leaned down to you, and overlapped your mouth with his, breathing into the kiss in a manner which set goosebumps prickling along every inch of your skin, scattered asunder the butterflies in your stomach till their wings tickled along every part of your body, like a sparkler catching flame.

Your hand slid to cover the nape of his neck, sinking into his ringlet curls as you pulled him to you and became nothingness beneath his touch, dissolving as his fingertips brushed your waist, his tongue your lower lip. And god— he was good at this.

A small sound escaped him, and you parted your lips and let your shoulders sink into the grass. You drew Brian with you, kissing him, kissing him, kissing him, so many times you thought you’d never stop, because you never wanted to be without this feeling again— this feeling of him.

You remembered that kiss this morning, as he wrinkled his nose in his sleep, and you traced your fingers from his temple to his jaw, before brushing over his sternum, and trailing down the centre of his chest—

His eyes flew open and he grasped your wrist, his breath coming sharp and short.

Your heart seized.

As though waking from a dream, he relaxed, a sigh scattering his curls briefly away from his face, before they fell back into his eyes. You smiled fondly at the sight, and Brian bit his lip shyly. He was still shy, shy at the affection offered to him, after all this time. Some part of him still doubted he was deserving; you could see it in the dip of his mouth, the downward flick of his eyes, and pink rising in his face.

“Hello,” he murmured.

“Hello, Brian,” you whispered back, and kissed his collarbone.

You lingered, and felt his breath against your forehead, the beat of his heart upon the place where your cheek had come to rest.

“Not getting out of bed today?”

“Uh-uh.”

He chuckled, the sound humming over your skin. “No visiting family, then?”

“You’re my family.”

“Oh, my love—”

“Shh, go back to sleep.”

Brian frowned. “As much as I hate the thought of getting out of bed right now, we really must, if we’re to catch that train.”

Nestling into him, you whined, “But you’re so warm…”

Brian’s frown deepened, a crease appearing between his eyes. “As are you,” he said.

Then at once, he pushed you away, sat up, and pulled you up with him. You blinked dazedly, as Brian shook his head. “God, you’re warm,” he muttered, and pressed the back of his palm against your forehead. His eyes widened suddenly, as both his hands came up to cradle your face. “Christ, love, I think you’ve got a fever.”

You blinked. “What?”

He shook his head again. “You’re ill.”

“But what about—”

“We are not going anywhere.”

“Christmas—”

Brian scoffed, “Absolutely bloody not.”

You fought for control of your mind, which seemed suddenly cloudy, in the wake of Brian’s realisation. “But I’ve bought presents, and baked biscuits, and I promised my mum—”

“There’s no such thing as late presents,” said Brian, “and the biscuits we’ll eat ourselves, and your mum will understand that you’re sick and not to leave your bed until you’re feeling better.”

You grew suddenly despairing at the thought of spending christmas in bed, with nothing to show for the wasted time, and you said desperately, “But Brian, I can’t not— what about— oh, I’ve ruined everything.”

You felt suddenly rather overwhelmed, fisting your hands in the sheets. He was right, that was for certain; you felt so very cold, though he insisted that you were warm, and yes— that was a sweat breaking out on your neck, tingles starting down your spine. And you were tired. So, so tired.

And then you were blushing, that Brian should have to see you like this— pathetic, weak, and not entirely pretty, at that— deal with you like this.

You ducked your head. “Please don’t feel obligated to stay here with me. I’m sure I can take care of it, be better in a few days’ time…”

“You, my love, are entirely ridiculous, if you think that I am going to leave you here for a single second, in this state.”

Your blush deepened at his words, but if Brian noticed, he said nothing.

“I don’t—”

“Shush,” said Brian, rising from your side, before pulling on the pair of trousers previously discarded by the bed. You pressed your lips together immediately at his insistence, and he swept around the side of the bed, kneeling by your side. “You’re going to stay right here whilst I make you a cup of tea and phone your mum, and then we’re going to do everything in our power to get you on the mend, yeah?”

You nodded silently, biting your lip. A distinct sense of shame still weighed upon you.

At your nod, Brian nodded as well, and stood.

You bowed your head and resigned yourself to a miserable christmas.

But then suddenly, Brian’s lips were at the shell of your ear.

“And just for the record,” he whispered, “you couldn’t ruin anything if you tried.”

His fingers brushed the nape of your neck before he dropped a kiss to your hair, and departed the bedroom for the kitchen.

⭒

The cup of chamomile tea had not gone down easily, but with thirty minutes of sipping the hot, warm, then lukewarm, liquid— and no small amount of coaxing from Brian— it was done.

He took your temperature after that, and grumbled disapprovingly, until he saw your downcast eyes, and stroked a hand over your head.

“Good girl,” he murmured.

Then he reached above the bed and drew the curtains shut, before undressing again and crawling back beneath the duvet and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you against his chest and kissing the curve of your neck.

“What can I do for you, love? Anything you need, just tell me.”

But all you really wanted was sleep. And Brian there with you.

“Just…” you started. “Just hold me.”

“I can do that,” Brian said. “I’m very good at that.”

And you slept through to dinnertime.

When you awoke, Brian was gone, but you could hear him singing in the kitchen, and a lovely smell wafted through the flat to your bedroom.

He returned with a bowl of soup, which he assured you was fresh, because he had just made it. He sat with you whilst you ate slowly, your movements still as lethargic as they had been in the morning. But he stayed by your side, eating his own soup as he kept you company, combing your hair with his fingers, clearing away your bowl when you eventually finished.

He then took your temperature again, tutting like a mother hen. He urged you take a shower to ease your aching muscles, and you complied, whilst he exchanged the sweat-matted sheets of your bed to clean ones. When you slipped back into bed, the cotton was cool against your skin, and your heart swelled with gratitude for Brian and his attentiveness.

You fell asleep quickly, and though you awoke throughout the night, Brian was always awake too, there to sing you back to sleep, or talk or read in comforting tones until you drifted off again.

But when you eyes opened christmas morning, Brian was nowhere to be found.

Until he was— sitting beside you on the bed, smiling softly.

He held out a mug to you, and involuntarily, you cringed.

He laughed. “It’s not chamomile tea, today,” he assured you, and you sighed in relief, because you had never particularly liked chamomile tea in the first place, and after the events of yesterday, there would be no redemption for it, ever.

“Hot chocolate, to celebrate,” he said. “Happy christmas, my love.”

Letting you take the offered cup, Brian clinked his own against yours.

“Happy christmas, Bri,” you responded, sleepily but happily, and he smiled again, and it warmed your heart to no end.

He blew on his hot chocolate before taking a delicate sip, and as you drank as well, you could not help but stare at him, at this beautiful being who, for presumably no reason at all, had chosen to love you.

“What?” he said, when he noticed you looking, and you chewed your lip.

“I really want to kiss you,” you answered.

Brian set down his cup on the bedside table, and leaned close to you.

“No,” you pushed him away gently, “I’ll get you sick.”

Brian rolled his eyes. “Oh, fuck it,” he muttered. “I love you.”

“I love you—”

He silenced you with a kiss, drawing you in with a breath, nipping lightly as your lower lip so that you all but melted into his arms.

And you kissed him and you kissed him, and in an infinite cycle, he kissed you, until the world fell away, its colours softening to sunset pastels. And you floated away, awash with the sort of love you had never thought possible, before you had met Brian.