#i’m actually in so much discomfort i can’t sleep

[hamausagi]

eugh

[toxycodone]

ship. Laios Touden x Reader

content. nsfw + gender neutral reader + period sex + bloodplay/kink

You and Laios have a pretty decent sex life. It’s a lot smoother than most couples. Laios is surprisingly into trying new things. The two of you share your kinks pretty openly. (Which is pretty necessary, considering that Laios is such an avid fan of roleplay…but that’s another story).

You two are in bed, kissing and messing around a little. This is common, you two gently feeling each other up. It doesn’t always go farther than this—most of the time it’s just you showing some affection—but it takes a little turn when Laios’s fingers start to trail under your night shorts.

Your breath catches in your throat, but not in a usual positive sense. You stop Laios in his tracks by grabbing his wrist.

“Hey, stop.” He abides. Before he can look at you puppy dog eyes and fall over himself apologizing, you speak. “I’m on my period. Didn’t want you to accidentally stick your fingers in blood.”

You expect his face to twist in discomfort, for Laios to do his usual dorky laugh to offset the awkwardness and for him to cuddle you to sleep. However…he gets that look. The one where his expression doesn’t really change, and you can see the cogs start to turn in his mind. He can’t be…?

“Are you in the mood?” He asks. He’s avoiding what’s really on his mind by testing how you feel. You just go along with it instead of pressing for now.

“To be honest, yeah.” You shrug. “But I don’t need to do anything.” “Well…” Laios looks away from you before spouting his biology facts. “Y’know, an orgasm releases endorphins. Dopamine. Oxytocin. The good chemicals, happy ones.” His fingers dip under your waistband again now. He doesn’t seem thwarted by the fact you’re on your cycle. “If you want…I don’t mind. Y’know, I can... Help you. Make you feel good, and—“

“Just say what’s on your mind Laios.”

He takes a breath, then sighs it out. Laios’s cheeks flush pink as he speaks.

"I still want to have sex with you. Even though you're on your period, I'm curious. I wanna try it."

"Are you sure?' You ask. He might be a bit swayed by different forms of media. So you want to ensure he knows what he's getting into. "It's messy. And it smells. And you're gonna get blood all over yourself if you do."

He nods, but his interest hasn't been quelled. He's oddly into this. Really into this.

"You just really want to know what it tastes like, huh?"

Cue his cute little blush.

Laios scrambles to get a towel when you give him the go ahead. Of course he wants to experience this, but he knows he can't just hop on into it. He wants to make sure you're comfortable and into it as well before he starts exploring.

Laios is EXTREMELY into period sex. You're so warm, so wet without him even trying. Sex this way is one of his favorite things to do. And it helps that each orgasm he gives you makes your cramps and other symptoms much less severe.

He really leans into the more primal side of it. Some things still linger from his time as a monster, and one of those is his affinity for blood. The sight and smell of it drives him wild. He'll start to growl and fuck you more roughly, digging his fingernails into your skin while he pounds into you. (Also...since the risk of pregnancy is low on your period...he's finishing balls deep inside. He cant resist the urge.)

And his teeth sink into the flesh of your neck when he finishes. The taste of your blood is addictive to him...you bring out a more monstrous side of Laios that's gotten buried deep within his psyche.

Your blood acts like an aphrodisiac to him. His senses are much more sensitive. You smell weak--like prey--and he wants to take advantage of you. He'll make sure he has his fill of all you have to offer and then some.

And speaking of tasting your blood...period head is always on the table. That coppery taste others may refuse is one he finds delicious (blame his appetite and newfound monstrous palette).

It's actually a sight to behold. Laios's mouth stained with blood as he's buried between your thighs. He'll look up at yours, eyes dark with lust, before gripping the meat of your thigh and pulling you flush against him again so he can consume you with fervor.

And Laios is SO ridiculously shameless about it too. After you've spent yourself on his face, he'll rest his chin on your stomach and wipe his mouth off with the back of his hand--only to lick the blood smears off his pale skin. It's so obvious he enjoys eating you.

[avoxrising]

Saw You In That Dress

Finnick x Reader

Masterlist Link

So @kittimbo posted this fic idea on their blog and I wanted to give a shot at writing it (see repost of the request on my blog).

Basically the reader is another victor from District 4 and Finnick’s childhood best friend. She has to go to an event in the capital in a sheer dress and it leaves Finnick very flustered and things heat up back at her place… smut ahead!

Content warnings - cursing, prostitution, unwanted public nudity, very smutty

“Tigris you can’t be serious,” you groan as you see the dress she brought you. It was made of purple organza and was very see through. Your whole body would be on display. Tigris had enough decency to provide you with a small nude thong but your chest was fully on display.

“Client’s request,” Tigris responds. “You just have to be with him during the event and then you get the rest of the night off to wear whatever you want. The siren must make her appearances after all.”

The capital had called you “The Siren” since your games. During the final eight interview your sister told the capital how you were the best singer in District 4 and the capital ran wild with that comment. You were made to pick up singing as your official victor hobby and the rest is history.

Knowing what would happen if you didn’t comply, you reluctantly let Tigris dress you. The dress wouldn’t actually be so bad if it wasn’t see through. The fabric flowed beautifully around your features and the halter top was covered in expensive jewels. Unfortunately, all anyone would notice was your bare top half, not the rest of you.

As your driver takes you to the event at Snow’s mansion you have a moment of panic. The fact that your childhood best friend and mentor, Finnick, was also going to be in attendance was a sense of relief until you saw what you would be wearing. Now you have to avoid him. You can’t let him see you in this dress. That’s literally the definition of embarrassing.

Luckily, the event is fairly crowded. You’re stuck to your client like glue for the whole evening, trying to hide your dress behind him as much as possible. Unfortunately, he purchased you and this dress for the sole intent of checking you out and showing you off, so he mainly kept you in front of him so your girls were in eyesight at all times. You could barely hide your discomfort.

“Come on Siren darling you need to meet my sister,” he coos. “She’s a big fan of Tigris and she would love to see your dress. I’m sure her date would too.”

You reluctantly join him as he glides across the room. The sight of his sister and her date makes you freeze. Of course it had to be Finnick. The second he notices your outfit his eyes shoot to the floor, doing his best not to stare.

“Celia my dear sister!” your client exclaims as he introduces you to a woman with green hair and eyes like a snake. “I’d like you to meet my lovely victor for tonight. Did you know Tigris designed her dress?”

The woman gushes over your dress, running the fabric through her fingers as you stand their uncomfortably. Ironically, Finnick looks more uncomfortable than you. He’s sweating and shifting from foot to foot. What is he doing?

“I’ll be right back,” he tells his date, scurrying away. She’s too enthralled by your dress to notice his absence but you can’t help but feel betrayed. Why was he leaving you alone to fend for yourself?

The rest of the event passes too slowly. It’s finally 3am when your driver picks you up to bring you back to the victors’ apartments in the capital. You spend the car ride removing all the pins from your hair and the jewels from your neckline that Tigris glued on.

When you get back to your apartment, all you want to do is change into actual comfy clothes and go to sleep, but your plans are sidelined by Finnick sitting at your kitchen counter. You can’t help but stare at him in disbelief, as if he had the audacity to think you’d want to hang out with him at this hour, right after he left you alone with your client and his.

You let out a long exhale before dropping your shoes by the door and heading to your room, eager to get out of your dress. Finnick, of course, follows you. What the hell was his problem?

“Hey,” he says as you walk further into your apartment. “How was your night?”

“Awful,” you huff, finally turning around to face him. “What are you even doing here?”

“I wanted to see you,” he nervously replies, doing his best to keep his eyes on your face.

“Well everyone has seen a whole lot of me tonight,” you retort. You cross your arms over your chest, causing Finnick’s eyes to abruptly snap back up to your face. He was definitely looking.

“I like the dress,” he comments. You roll your eyes and turn to head towards the room when he stops you, putting one of his hands on your arm.

“Wait,” he says. “I just wanted to apologize for leaving you with my client. I just couldn’t control myself with you in that dress. You looked…”

You look up at him, slightly confused. Sure you two had always been somewhat flirty for two people who were just friends, but something about the way you two were flirting tonight felt different.

“You couldn’t control yourself?” you smirk.

“No,” he shyly replies. “I really couldn’t.”

“Well what would you do if you didn’t have to control yourself?” you ask, dragging your fingers down the arm that lay on your shoulder.

“Do you really want to know?” he asks, using his arm to maneuver you so your back was against the wall. Things were definitely different tonight.

“Yes,” you nervously swallow. “Please.”

He hungrily encapsulates your lips with his as his hands hold you firmly against the wall. Was your childhood best friend and longtime crush actually kissing you?

His hands roamed up your stomach until they sat just under your boobs, hands pressing gently into the sheer fabric covering them.

“If I didn’t have to control myself in there I would have dragged you to Snow’s office so I could bend you over his desk and fuck you till you couldn’t walk,” he growls. “You would be singing my name like the deadly siren you are. I would leave marks all over you till your arms and neck matched your dress and everyone knew you didn’t belong to them.”

His hands dig into the flesh of your boobs and you let out a soft moan. You needed his hands in a million different places right now but the words wouldn’t form to tell him that.

“You just look too good in that dress,” he groans, pressing himself closer to you. Your hands drift down his torso until they come to rest over his dress pants. They were definitely getting a bit tight due to the conversation.

“I might look better with it off,” you smirk at him, sliding your hand down gently over his bulge. He let out a deep groan at the contact and swiftly guided you back over to your couch just a few feet away, where he promptly had you sit on his lap, facing him.

“I want to show them that they don’t own you,” he says as you kiss his neck, definitely leaving marks. You pull back for a moment to look into his deep blue green eyes. The two of you had crossed a line, and there was no going back to just friends.

“They don’t,” you tell him. “I won’t let them own you either.”

The moment intensifies until Finnick smashes his lips back into yours, hands pulling up the bottom of your dress. He slides your thong to the side and quickly goes to undo his pants. You impatiently yank them down to his knees, watching his very prominent erection bounce up to hit his stomach.

No words needed to be said, you two already knew what the other was thinking. You take ahold of his member and line it up with your soaking entrance. Only he could do this to you.

He unties the halter top of your dress, fully exposing your breasts to him. He can’t help but run is hands over them and give them a squeeze.

“They’re perfect,” he grins, looking up at you. “You’re perfect.”

You pull his lips to yours as you sink down onto him. He stretches you out nicely and it takes you a second to adjust to his size.

Slowly, you pull back up before sitting yourself back down onto him, moaning in the process.

“Fuck Finnick,” you groan. He ruts his hips up into yours, telling you to get moving. You heed his command and begin to bounce up and down on him, the sound of skin hitting skin filling your apartment.

He presses his face to your chest and gently bites and sucks as you ride him, loving the way your boobs bounce with every thrust. Eventually he has you turn around so he can wrap his arms around you and hold your boobs while you bounce on him.

He lets out a groan and you can tell he’s close, his dick twitching inside of you. The feeling in your stomach lets you know you’re close too, but you need something more.

You wrap one of your hands around his, guiding it down to your swollen clit.

“Please,” you beg as you push his hand towards your core. He does not disappoint as his fingers make contact with your clit.

It’s only a few moments later before your orgasm comes crashing down on you, with Finnick not far behind. He pulls you down onto him as he spurts himself deep into you, burying his face in your neck. You don’t think he could get any deeper but he continues to thrust as he coats your walls.

When the moment fades, he gently lifts you off of him, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he goes to get a warm towel. You lay back on the couch, exhausted. You would have to lie to Tigris about why the dress got so sweaty.

“Here,” Finnick hums as he lays you back on the couch. He proceeds to wipe you up, your clit throbbing from the contact. After you are both cleaned up, you ditch the idea of pjs and climb into your bed together, the sun already rising over the capital.

“We should have done that a lot sooner,” Finnick states. You give him a happy hum in response as you nuzzle up against him. “Thank god I saw you in that dress.”

-

I hope this was in line with your idea! Let me know in the comments what y’all think of this and if I should do more of possessive Finnick in the future.

[tokkiiecloud]

It’s hot outside so get hit by this bus take whv this is (Also don’t mind my writing, I ain’t no writer I have written a few fanfictions here and there soo..yeah)

WHB : it’s summer and it’s hot / Beach dates :

Characters : gn!reader ; Belphegor ; Bael ; Gamigin ; ppyong (Juno p) +angel : Raphael

CW : Sweating ; OOC

Belphegor :

this dude just sleeps through the heat

He’s inside with the air conditioner on

You just came back from a small trip in town with Agares and Vassago, and directly joined Belphegor who was sleeping in his room, you were drenched in sweat because of the FUCKING HOT AIR OUTSIDE and you were too lazy to go shower and change into a pair of fresh and cool clothes(he rubbed off on you)

You collapsed on the bed where Belphegor was sleeping, when he felt something that resembled a wet rat, he had to wake up from the discomfort, when he saw it was you he pushed you off the bed :

“WT- BELPHI?! THIS HURTS!” You yelled at him, he ignored you and went back to sleep, you were forced to take a shower and change when you came back he finally used you as a pillow.

Bael :

This man works through the heat (ac broken)

Collapsed bcs of the heat after waking up he started working again.

You walked inside of Bael’s office, he was still working despite when entering you could feel the unbearable heat, you started sweating profusely how could Bael work in this environment??

He smelt you’re sweats and looked at you giving a weak smile, he was close to collapsing, alerted you quickly went to him and grabbed his face worry in you’re eyes :

“Bael?! Your office is like an oven?!” You said worried, he just looked at you and apologized

“Sorry..the ac is actually broken but I’m used to the heat do not worry about me, go somewhere where the ac is on-“ he couldn’t finish his sentence before you dragged him out of the room, he wasn’t able to fight back because of his brain being turned to mush because of the heat.

After dragging him to a random chamber placing him onto the bed, making him drink some water, changing him into more comfortable clothes and going into the bed to cuddle with him.

He smiled softly before kissing your forehead and letting himself be taken care of by you.(Bael my beloved)

Gamigin :

He’s very worried about you staying hydrated

“Please don’t go outside too much”

Paradise lost, for some reason is not that hot?? But Gamigin still worries a lot about you he heard from Lucifer that human’s can’t withstand too much heat so he’s constantly checking on you, giving you water to keep you hydrated!

Ppyong (Juno p) :

Spends his day at the beach to be able to cool himself in the water

Listens to Avril Lavigne while swimming

He begged MC to go to the beach with him so he could spend some alone time together! Drinking wine together, watching the sunset together, swimming, his perfect idea for a date! Sadly he can’t hang out because the others will tag along…

At least he got a kiss on the forehead for the cute idea! It was worth it :

“Ppyong, I mean Juno, this is a very cute idea! Let’s do this next time!”

He giggles as you kiss his forehead, his smile is super bright almost blinding you more than the sun

Raphael :

Doesn’t give a flying fck at the heat

Has tried to kiss you while watching the sunset and will continue to try when he can

Interestingly, you found Raphael at the beach while hanging out with the devils of Gehenna and when he saw you…He took you away from them so for the rest of the day you spent you’re time with him

It was fun! You had a really good and goofy time with him he was still acting high and mighty but he was softer than usual until the sun started to set, both of you were sitting down on the golden sand :

“The sunset is beautiful..all those golden and pinkish mixed with a hint of blue create such a unique and ethereal look…”

He looks at you, eyes sparkling, he smiles at you as he grabs your chin and forces you to look at him, extremely gently as if he was handling a crystal glass :

“You know what else is beautiful and ethereal?” He looks deep into your eyes, leaning in closer to your face, when suddenly a bunch of demons intervened and brutally ended the sweet moment by starting a fight after the fight Raphael left but not without saying one last thing :

“Our moment was interrupted but we’ll have time to continue it some time later. See you dear” he smirks and flies away.

It’s donneeee!! YAYY! Don’t mind it going from weird /goofy or cringe ?? To sweet, I couldn’t stop myself from writing about them I just had too before the fandom completely dies you know?? So every time I get an idea I’ll write it!! :3

[georgiapeach30513]

Your Mark On Me, Part 11

Summary: can Steve be honest with himself, with you, and with his best friend?

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, mentions of markings, mentions of biting, bruises, unprotected sex, PIV sex, degradation, manhandling, creampie, cockwarming in public, voyeurism, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 3.9K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

*tattoo edit by @randomagnes0210

Steve smiles as he looks over your sleeping body. A warm comfort fills his entire insides up. You look more beautiful now, in this state of sprawled out mess than he has ever seen you. Perfect. No one could ever compare to you. And seeing you like this he takes the time to think about all that had happened between the two of you. Of how he’s never spent the time on anyone that he has on you. You’ve surpassed his every fantasy he’s had.

Picking up his phone, he scrolls through his messages. Having to scroll down further than he ever has for this contact before clicking it. His hand hovers over the keyboard a moment. Fingers tapping over the glass, before he erases everything he had just typed. He didn’t know what to say.

Laying his phone down he stares at you. Chuckling to himself because even asleep, you knew what you were doing. Turned on your side, and giving him the sweetest sneaky peek of your cunt. Your lips swollen and puffy from the pounding he had been giving you. Glistening in the early morning light, and ready to take him again. You really are his little slut.

Bruises and marks splattered over various parts of your skin. If you didn’t show that you did in fact like it, he would hate himself. He’s amazed at himself for how many different places his mouth had left their mark on your body. Reddened bruises and even teeth marks. Having to bit you for the amount of pleasure that overwhelmed his body.

He wants to hate himself for causing you any bit of pain or discomfort, and then you sigh in your sleep. Your body stretches out even more, and pushes the blankets down your body. You are a work of art. That little grin that pulls up your mouth. You’re, for now, satiated. You had proven to be just as much of a fend as him.

If you were awake, you were filled with him. So now he sits quietly, and hopes you can actually rest. You hadn’t gotten used to his size. And he coos at you with every wince when he stretches you open. It’s adorable, and he can tell you hate how he goes a bit softer as he’s entering you. Steve is a bit of a contradictory roller coaster, but especially during sex.

Steve hears a little tap on his bedroom door, and he pulls the covers back over you. He got the alert that Sam was driving up here, so it wasn’t a surprise. “Come in,” Steve whispers, and presses his hand on your bum when you stir. He wants you to sleep for a few hours this time. No more naps.

Sam waits in the doorway, watching the two of you. Noting how Steve can’t turn away. He rolls his eyes as he leans against the doorframe, “You get it now?”

“Get what?”

Steve still never stops to look at Sam. In the few days you have been holed up in the cabin, Sam sees a real change in Steve. There isn’t that hardness that’s usually present. “You finally understand caring for someone more than yourself,” Steve looks up at his friend, and responds by nodding his head.

”Dove looks exhausted.”

”I didn’t do anything she didn’t want me to. She is worse than me,” you weren’t quite there. But it wouldn’t take much. You were experimental with sex. Willing to try whatever Steve wanted to.

”I’m doubtful of that,” Steve huffs out a laugh, and turns to look back at you. You are too soft for him, and yet there’s this devil that lurks under your top layer of sweetness. “You need to call Bucky.”

”Why?”

“Because, you get why he was angry. Why he needed to leave. Why he knew you needed to protect Dove. Bucky knew before you did that you had found your person, and he didn’t want you to scare her away. And then you insulted his fiance,” feeling a bit of shame makes Steve unable to look up at Sam. But his eyes flick towards his phone. he’s tried a few times to text Bucky since you two hadn’t left this cabin. Barely even ate.

“Imagine someone calling Dove a basket case,” his heart feels like someone is squeezing it, and he has to watch you sleep to center himself. “Bucky and Shy deserve your respect. The things Bucky has done for Dove were for you. Call him. I think Shy would do Dove some good. Maybe she can soften your darkened Dove. I can’t believe she was this sweet little innocent girl. And now…”

“Sam, I’m going to marry her, and make her the mother of my children.”

“Then call Bucky. My wife sent me with a basket of food. Feed her.”

Steve didn’t have to tell Sam that he had been thinking of calling, well texting, Bucky. Sam had this ability to just know. It’s why he completed their friendship. He is the steady one. The one that helps keep them in line. And the one that isn’t afraid to call either of them out. And if he was letting it be known that Steve needed to talk to Bucky it was time.

But first, he was going to enjoy you again. But going back into the real world was looming ever closer. He couldn’t keep you here, even if he wanted to. Make you just take him whenever he feels like it. Work had to be done. He had an empire. And he needed his other part to join back in with the business.

”Mmm,” you whine, looking over your shoulder at him. “Captain, why isn’t your cock deep in my cunt, and fucking me awake?”

“And why is my pretty little bird saying fuck when I’m not inside her?”

“What is my captain going to do about it?” He gives you an evil grin, before ripping your legs apart. Positioning you more on your knees, lifting you up to get the perfect angle. He spits into his hand, and you mewl. Turning your head back to look at him as his thick hand runs through your folds.

“You’re drenched.”

“Because I need you to fuck me,” he draws his hand back, and quickly slaps over your bare center. “Fucking destroy me. Just…mmm,” moaning when he gets to his knees and his monstrous cock springs up to life. Dripping in precum as he presses hard in between your shoulder blades, and pushing you into the mattress. “You gonna fuck me, Captain.”

“Nope,” he chuckles as he lines himself up, he roams his silky steel rod between your lips. Coating Clarence in your juices, while you whimper into the sheets. “I’m going to murder your pussy,” he says, and with the next breath his hips push him through your sensitive cunt.

It stings, and you’re tender, but the fact you can hear Steve groan in pleasure behind you sets your soul soaring. His hands grope hard over your hips as he pistons deep inside of you. Becoming one with him again, and you start to sink into the bed with his force.

Stabbing into you with no remorse, until you’re flat on the bed, and still he jams himself deeper. “Is that what it takes to keep my little bird happy? Dovey, you need me to treat you like my little slut that bad?”

“Uh huh. Mmm,” your knuckles change color with how tight you cling to the sheets, and still you want more. Would be completely satisfied with Steve's entire weight pushing himself into you. The pleasure is just too much as you feel your body go into a different place. This was heaven. And Steve reminded you of this beautiful place multiple times a day.

He wants himself to be your religion. Needs you to desire nothing more than him. Like all you needed to survive was Steve Rogers. Your body acts on its own accord, and keeps your ass pointed up, so he can get extra deep. Could feel him all the way in your throat as he rearranges your insides. Accommodating him in a way no one ever has. Letting him use you as his little sex doll.

Manhandling you into whatever position he wanted. You couldn’t make up your mind on what feels the best because you just need him inside of you. Need to feel the way his piercing drags onto your skin as he pulls himself out, and then stabs right back into you. You were no longer human. Or yourself. You are just his.

“Steve!” You scream, muttering out gibberish. Speaking in tongues as you soar high with pleasured pain.

”You’re so fucking dumb for my cock, aren’t ya, Dovey? Sweet little Dove getting herself turned inside out for Steve Rogers’ cock. And she looks so pretty taking every bit of me. Doesn’t matter that it hurts a bit. We make it fit, huh?”

“Yeah. Yes! Steve, I’m coming. I’m coming!”

“My god, yes, you are. Got me in a fucking vice grip. Fuck, Dovey. You feel how deep I am?” You feel me flowing through your veins?” He reset everything in your body. You were the worst addict. You need a hit of him constantly. You would let this man treat you like a fucking rag doll, thanking him, and begging him to do it again.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck! So fucking tight. So fucking warm. Dovey, you got me coated in your pretty cum. Are you ready to feel me? Ready for me to paint the insides of you?”

“Please, Captain. Want you inside of me all day.”

”You fucking whore. You sweet fucking slut of mine! Ahh!” He screams as his load shoots into your belly. Your brows raise in satisfaction as your walls milk every bit of his warmth. Swallowing his essence to keep inside of you for the times he couldn’t be. “You like that, baby?”

“It feels so good,” you sigh. Ready to cry as he starts to pull out of you. “But I hate when you do that.”

”I know, sweet Dovey,” leaning forward he leaves the sweetest kisses down your slit. Finishing on your clit, before righting himself, and staring at his handy work. “I love seeing you wide open because of me. Your cunt swollen, and would you look at that. Mmmm,” he moans as his cum starts to seep out. “Never miss a drop, hmm? You my sweet cum slut?”

”I’m whatever you want me to be.”

”And I want you filled, and leaking of my cum today. We got to go into the real world.”

”But Steve,” you start to protest, but he pushes three fingers into your gaping hole. Stopping all your thoughts because he just feels that damn good.

”You are only quiet when you’re stuffed. Shh, I’m talking, you listen. As much as I would love to fuck you like the little slut you are, we have to be adults. We have a life. I have a business. We can’t…Dove, you’ve got that look on your face. What do you want?”

“Can…no one has to know, but can I keep you warm today? We both get what we want,” he promised to make you sit and take him while he conducted business. And now you want to collect on that promise. You didn’t know who knew that you were full of Steve. It was your silent way of claiming him for everyone to see. He belonged to you.

”You’re killing me.”

”And I feel empty. You don’t want me to feel empty, do you? Steve? Captain? Please, can I keep your cock warm? I’ll sleep,” honestly, sleeping with him inside of you sounded peaceful. You knew that you could rest as long as he was there.

You are a menace to him. You broke down most of his walls, and made him want to do nothing more but to spoil you and give you whatever you want. “You better actually sleep,” just your smile, and the wiggle of your ass is enough for him to know that he made the right decision. You are his, and everyone needs to understand that they will respect you. Only he can degrade you. And he will. Later.

He never tires of watching you. Even now with his cock nestled inside of you, and your eyes gently closed, a soft snore of exhaustion hums off your lips, you are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He doesn’t care when everyone walks into the meeting room to see you sitting atop his lap, with your legs lazily dangling beside him.

Sure they could know that he is stretching you out. They can see you snuggled up against his disgusting burn mark. Able to watch your lips pucker out and kiss his mark. Your little sleepy sigh is the loudest noise in the otherwise silent meeting room.

This room is supposed to be his safe space. Everyone here should respect not only you, but will be willing to protect you at all cost. It’s an understood thing. Nobody here should take stock of how even when Steve speaks, his voice is softer. Whispering so he doesn’t wake you.

While everyone is listening to Steve, Sam’s eyes roam around the room. He can multitask. He isn’t quite as trusting as Steve. He thinks showing Steve’s weakness and vulnerability is a risky move. Sam doesn’t care that you’re here. It’s the intimacy of your position, and how he is just letting you be.

Steve has fucked many a woman in front of people. Humiliated them, and treated them as nothing more than a way to get his dick wet. But this is care. Steve couldn’t say the word, but it was love. Pulling down your skirt so no one could see any part of your exposed skin.

And then without thinking Steve kisses your cheek. Giving a nod to everyone at the table, and letting them know what their territories are. Sending them on their way, while Sam taps a finger on the table.

“What, Samuel?”

“You’re getting sloppy in love, Steven,” his blue eyes turn up to look at Sam, shaking his head. “Your vulnerability is putting the biggest target on her.”

”I’ll kill anyone that tries to hurt her.”

”Some people don’t just try. Some will do anything to destroy you, and you’ve allowed everyone to see what will kill you. Losing her.”

”Ready a car,” Steve says as he looks up at Sam. “I’m going to take her to see Bucky and Shy,” he looks back at you when you giggle. Swishing your body around when you peek to look at him. “You rotten brat.”

”I like Bucky, Captain,” trying to move again, he holds tightly to your hips, holding you steady.

Sam nods his head, and goes to make sure a car is ready for the two of you. “Thank you, Steve,” you whisper as your hands smooth up his chest.

”For what, Dovey? What could you possibly have to thank me for?”

“For letting me go see Bucky. But I’m not the only one that misses him, am I?” Steve rarely admits when he’s wrong. This time he does, but just barely he gives a single nod. “I knew it. You need him. He’s a part of you. Just like me, huh?”

“You are definitely a part of me, my sweet Dove. You mean more to me than you’ll ever realize. And yes, just like Bucky and Sam.”

”Then it’s time for you to accept that they have a special someone. Just. Like. You,” you’re so rotten with your little grin. Tapping on his chest to emphasize every word.

”Yes, darling. You are so smart when it comes to my feelings. I’ll let you handle those from now on,” with a sweet laugh, you lean up to give him a chaste kiss. Getting a bit of a growl from him. “Dovey, you have been keeping me warm for awhile, and to finally feel some friction is making me want to fuck you so hard on this table.”

”Do it then,” rolling his eyes he stands up, letting you drop onto the table with a bit more force than you were expecting, and he pulls himself out of the depths of your body. Hands behind your knees, he lifts your legs, pinning them on the table.

Cocking up an eyebrow, he lets a string of saliva drip down to your entrance, “You really are a slutty brat, did you know?”

“Maybe you need to make me behave. Cap—tain,” you screech as he enters back into you. Slamming your hands above your head, he sets a feral pace. They two of you needy for this. An hour of feeling him was a slight torture, and now he needs you in an animalistic way.

“Dove, I…” he growls, shaking his head. “I fucking love feeling you.”

”And I love feeling you,” he’s such an ass sometimes. Let him have his fun shoving himself into you balls deep. Let him hear the squelching sounds echoing in the room, and the table legs scratching across the floor with every thrust.

“Steve, it’s enough for now,” tears of pleasure fill your eyes as you stare up at him. You’d break him. He is getting there, even if it is slowly. You could feel it from him. And it was enough for now.

Leaning forward he captures your lips with his own. You love feeling his weight on you. Able to feel every bit of him on every inch of your body. He truly is the perfect fit. The two of you soak each other up. Never even pulling apart when euphoria spreads through both of your bodies. Sharing your pleasure as he spurts his cum into you.

Kisses continue, and you’re too wrapped up in each other to notice cold blue eyes stare at the two of you. Steve truly is a fool.

“Stop fidgeting,” Steve says softly, while your eyes stare at the ever passing trees. You couldn’t stop. It had been so long since you saw Bucky. And the last time Steve did, it wasn’t under the best circumstances. “Dove. Dovey! Little bird,” he coos over to you.

You finally look at him, your eyes shining with confusion. “Tell me what’s wrong,” this isn’t a question. It is a command, and you feel overly compelled to tell him everything. All that you have been thinking about during this drive.

“What if she doesn’t like me? What if she hates me? What if Bucky doesn’t want to see me? What if…?”

“What if you just breathe, sweetheart? Bucky likes you, and I don’t think that will change. From my understanding his Shy girl is a bit backwards. She observes more than she reacts. So she might not say much. And if she does, that is just her opinion. What about mine? And I love…spending time with you,” you narrow your eyes at him, and look back out the front windshield. He could be so infuriating at times. You’re hoping that he would just make a mistake, and say it. It seems to be right on the tip of his tongue.

“I want her to like me though. Because Bucky loves her. Even asked her to marry him. Isn’t that something?”

“Yes, so romantic to finally propose after years of being together.”

“Don’t put a timeline on people’s relationship, Steve.”

“Then don’t put one on ours,” his hand moves to your thigh. Giving your soft skin a bit of a squeeze. “Just live in the moment, honey. Ahh, there’s their home.”

“Is it a necessary thing to have your homes be out in the middle of nowhere?” You bite at your lip, looking up at their home. It was bigger than you had expected. Much too big for two people. Even bigger than Steve’s cabin which was nothing to scoff at.

“Shy doesn’t like people. She’s a bit of a recluse. And they built this home together. Designed it for what they wanted out of life, and she has no intentions of leaving. This is their forever home, the cabin is not my forever home. Let’s go, little bird. Stand up straight and smile when the door opens. Don’t make me have to get onto you. Be a brat when it’s the two of us. Do you understand?”

You do. With a sweet smile, you reach for the door, but Steve clears his throat, opening his, and your hands fall to your lap. Watching as he jogs to your side of the door. You can’t help but to beam up at him when he opens your door, extending his arm down for you to take.

He keeps a firm grip on your waist as he walks up to the house. Knocking on the door, his hand goes to your chin, and he lifts your face to look up. Despising when you don’t exude confidence. And then the door opens to the cutest woman, and your eyes fall to her stomach.

“Oh my god! You’re having a baby!” Steve looks over at you confused, and your hands reach forward before retreating. “Can I?” She giggles, but nods her head yes, and you press your hands against her belly. “How far along are you? Steve! I felt the baby.”

“We’re twenty-seven weeks. Bucky and Alpine are spoiling me rotten.”

“Alpine?” Shy points down to her leg, and you see the fluffy cat circling her body. Squatting down you hold a hand out to her, and she leans into you without hesitation. “Are you protecting your mama and baby during this time? Making biscuits on your baby’s home? I bet you are the best kitty in the entire world, huh, pretty girl?”

“Steve, you’re drooling,” Bucky whispers to his friend. “You look different, buddy. Must be…well, Dove is making a good man out of you. Grab her up, let’s come inside, or we can go to the backyard. Shy has almost got it perfect. She’s got her an English garden look out there. Something she’s always wanted since she was a kid. The Secret Garden is her favorite.”

Steve pulls at your arm, and you stand up. Giving a big smile to your former guard. “Come on, Dove, Shy won’t bite if you give me a hug. I’d be more worried about your idiot boyfriend,” giggling, you jump into his arms. Squeezing around his neck so tight, you worry he can’t breathe.

“I missed you, too, ya heathen. Come on, I think all four of us need to talk,” and you did. Lots of talk. So much time was missed. And you knew that there was a part of this relationship that would never be the same. Bucky had three things right here that meant more to him than his own life. He wasn’t risking his life to save yours and Steve’s anymore. The only risks he would be taking would be to keep him alive to see his family one more day.

While you might not ever be Shy’s favorite, you can see her curiosity towards you is real. She keeps her eyes on you, but smiles since her cat is so familiar with you. Alpine bounces between walking in front of you to walking in front of her. Ultimately choosing her family. It’s as it should be. Bucky is doing the same. And with a look up at Steve, you understood. You understood all too well.

Next

Masterlist

@tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @theinheriteddutchess @annaallicce @feyfantome @jesevans @tittittoee @bananapiedreams @onclouds999 @darkserenity24 @abbatoirablaze @ashychangeling @identity2212 @mrsevans90 @weirdothatwritess @floralwsloski @thestralwriting @ambearsstuff @lyndys @kandis-mom @hoodiesandicedcoffee @awhoreformoree @nyxbellabarnes @buckybarnesisdaddy @honeyhoneylovelylove

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crash and Burn 9

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Tony Stark

Summary: a powerful man comes crashing into your life. Literally.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The vertigo blurs to darkness. You wade in the sludge of your own unconscious, still addled by your waking discomfort. Deep down inside of you is a thrum that never quite relents. It keeps you from sinking into a full sleep but has you trapped in a shallow and fruitless slog. 

A single touch and you’re awake. You groan as your eyes snap open and you recoil into yourself. Tony laughs as he tickles along your outer thigh. Your leg hangs over the edge of the sofa as your other is straight down the cushions. You cling, teetering over the floor. 

You push yourself up, sitting in the corner as you put your knees to your chest and hug them. You can’t hide from him. Your nakedness tingles as he smirks at you. 

“There she is,” he taunts, “good morning, sweetheart. Ready for round...” he pauses to count on his fingers, “you know, I lost track.” 

You put your palm to your forehead and shudder. You did too. You can’t tell the start from the end. The night is just a haze. 

“Well, I don’t know about you but I’m ready to get the day started,” he unties the belt of his black silk robe and opens it. Your eyes flick up to avoid his hard length. Jesus Christ. “I know the silver at my temples might be deceiving but I run hot, sweetheart.” 

“Do you ever stop?” You groan and rub your eye. “I’m exhausted--” 

“I didn’t ask,” his tone deepens as he nears and grabs your wrist, ripping your hand away from your face. “When I snap my fingers you get into position. Any will do, really.” 

“Stop, stop, I--” 

He brings up his other arm and looks at the watch on his wrist. It’s more of a command center as it seems to do more than tell the time. He tilts his arms just so and a ripple rolls through you. You squeal and jump off the sofa, colliding with him. 

“Now, we can go groundhog day with this, I don’t care, but I’m thinking you’ve had enough of that. Still...” he twirls his fingers and the intensity throbs, “I like to watch you squirm.” 

You grab onto the open robe along his shoulders and grit your teeth, “please, please, whatever, I—I'll do whatever--” You put your chin down and whine. “Fuck, I can’t--” 

Your legs tremble as you barely keep from folding. You bite down on the tension and yank on him. You swing your weight back and pull him down with you onto the sofa. You open your legs around him in surrender. 

“Just get it over with,” you sneer. 

“Wrong fucking answer,” he clucks and shakes his head. 

He shifts and moves over you. He lines up with your cunt, rubbing up and down, but not entering. You drone and tug on his hair. 

“Just fuck me!” 

“Come on, have a little romance. Foreplay’s important,” he snickers. 

“Uggh, why... why...” you roll your eyes back and rattle with another swell of tension. “God, I hate this. I hate you.” 

“Oh baby, you say that but the way your cunt begs for it,” he lets his tip flick up and rams his fingers into you. “You’re a bad liar.” 

You moan as he curls his fingers and wiggles his hand. You squeeze him with your thighs and snake your hand down to claw at his ass. You try to pull him closer as you whimper. 

“Please.” 

“Say it nicer for me, sweetheart.” 

“Tony, please, please,” your voice cracks, “please just fuck me. Shit. Jesussssss.”  

You turn your head to the side and heave as the swell pulses in your core. Your eyes stream and your lip trembles. You can’t help but sob. You can’t take much more. 

“I know, once you go Stark... I never found a good rhyme for it, actually,” he teases and drags his fingers out of you. “Mmm, sweetheart, you like to play so tough but inside, you’re just aching for it.” 

He grabs his dick and guides the tip along your folds. You shiver as he impales you, contorting to take as much as you can. You don’t care that he’s laughing, you don’t care that he’s won, you just need it to stop. 

He doesn’t thrust. He just lingers. You snarl and smack his head in frustration. He laughs again. Your eyes blaze up at him. 

“You know I love when you look at me like that.” 

“You’re the worst.” 

“I’m fucking am,” he ruts once then slides out so he’s barely inside you. “But you still fucking want me.” 

You push your chest out and he cups it, running his thumb over your nipple, then flicks it. You groan and latch onto his wrist. You move your hips and he tuts, sliding out completely. You pull his hand up to your mouth and bite his knuckle to keep a scream from erupting. 

He leans into you slowly, this time delving in inch-by-inch. You writhe and pinch him with your teeth. When he bottoms out, you spasm. You hook your legs around him to lock him in place.  

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, we got all day,” he growls as he pumps his hips, “all,” in, “fucking” out, “day.” 

[calif0rnia-lovers]

growing pains.

rating: 💙 | pairing: rio x his wife | words: 904

an: can't remember who requested this one, but I adore you. here’s another story I never got around to posting

request: rio and his wife again? but this time she's pregnant and can't get comfortable so rio tries to take her mind off it

Rio's eyes open.

He can breathe. Actually, breathe. That’s the problem.

Rio can never breathe—at least not properly—when he’s in bed with you. He’s become accustomed to waking up with you curled against him, most of your weight pressing him into the mattress. As much as he teases you about your inability to sleep without laying on him, Rio secretly loves it.

The absence of your touch is enough for Rio to fight off the tug of sleep already threatening to pull him back under.

His eyes find the clock on the bedside table.

2:15 A.M.

Lifting his head from the pillow, Rio finds you pacing the length of your dark bedroom.

One hand on your forehead, the other on your hip. Eyes closed, you quietly shuffle past the foot of the bed.

“Keep it up, you’ll burn a hole in the floor,” Rio’s chuckle fills the dark room, the sound of his voice causing you to jump.

You both wince as he reaches over, flicking on the bedside lamp.

“Sorry,” you groan. “I didn’t mean to wake you—”

Rio silently dismisses the apology, pushing the comforter back. “You good?”

Instinctively, you nod.

The action would convince many. Throughout your pregnancy, Rio has learned you’re an expert at masking your discomfort. When your friends and family ask how you’re doing, you instantly reply “I’m fine.”

The problem is, you try to do the same with your husband. Five years of marriage and you’ve yet to realize your husband can see right through you. This is why he can’t help but softly smile as your eyes meet his.

“If that’s the case,” Rio sighs. He comes to a stop before you, hands settling on your waist. “Why don’t you come back to bed?”

“Believe me, I tried. But, it seems I’m carrying the next Ronaldo,” you giggle, the exhaustion bringing your forehead to rest against your husband’s chest. “He’s been restless all night.”

“Sorry, mama.”

Soft kisses press against your forehead, over the bridge of your nose, and down to your lips.

Your hands find his chest, gently applying pressure as Rio leaves a final kiss against your lips.

“I’m fine,” you smile softly. “I’m sure he’ll settle down in a bit. Go back to bed.”

Being up this early in the morning was not ideal. Despite your protest, Rio has picked up much of your responsibilities as your third trimester has begun to wind down. Taking Marcus to school is one. You know he only has a few hours of sleep left before he has to take on the task.

Rio eyes drift to the bedroom door. The smile slowly spreading across his face arches your brow.

——————

“You know…I don’t think I’ve ever said this, but yellow looks good on you.”

Your giggle prompts your husband to glance over his shoulder.

Seated at the island of your kitchen, elbows resting against the surface, you watch Rio carefully balance the cooking pan in his left hand. He pushes the oven door shut with his right, pausing to cut it off.

Rio notes the twinkle of your eyes as you give him a once-over.

A large bee adorns his chest, completing the phrase bee happy. The apron he wears matches the yellow, bee-covered, oven mitts protecting his hands from the hot baking pan.

“Every color looks good on me,” Rio chuckles.

“Very true,” you agree, eyes following him as he makes his way around the island. “But, I’m a big fan of this look.”

Rio’s lips meet yours in a brief kiss, his smile growing as you pull away.

The half-eaten cookie you hold soon regains your attention as he slides onto the stool alongside yours.

You’ve lost count of the number of cookies you’ve eaten over the last twenty minutes.

Soft, warm, and chewy, the cookies were loaded with three of your favorite things. Chocolate chips, pecans, and caramel.

Rio had watched you teach Marcus how to make the cookies nearly a dozen times. Usually, while you and his son were busy mixing the dough, Rio was busy stealing chocolate chips and pecans to snack on.

Tonight, it seems the two of you have switched roles. Rio had forced you to remain seated while he focused on preparing the cookies.

“There’s nothing the perfect cookie can’t fix,” you’d once told Marcus after he returned home from a rough day at school.

The family recipe taught to you by your grandmother has become the savior of many stressful situations. And a gift at many celebrations.

They proved to be the perfect distraction from your previous dilemma.

Ignoring the swat of your hand, Rio manages to steal a bite of your cookie, his eyes drifting to the stairs visible from where you sit.

“You better hurry up and eat. Gotta hide the evidence,” he chuckles as you pout.

“There’s plenty of cookies,” you remind him, stealing the cookie out of his hand. “Eat your own.”

Rio shakes his head, his lips pressing a kiss against your shoulder. “I like yours better.”

“I’m eating for two,” you remind him, the smile on your face growing as his eyes roll.

“Funny how that comes out at the most convenient times.”

Primarily when you steal food from his plate. Your eyes drop to the cookie you’d recently stolen from your husband.

“Remember that next time you think about getting me pregnant.”

“Speaking of kids…I’m not taking the blame when Marcus wakes up to find you didn’t share any with him.”

[alargehunkofdebris]

the necessary anguish of the Good Omens 2 finale

Ah ok. So after 4 years of waiting post Season One and ten cumulative years of bookish fannery, I watched bonified New Content of Good Omens. And when those credits rolled, I sat there, not in my expected state of pleasant satisfaction, but in a state of abject shock.

I actually don’t know if I’ve ever had such a reaction to a show before. Or, rather, that I could still have such a reaction. I’m thirty, for goodness sakes – I was planning on being thrilled and charmed and entertained, not having my hands shake so much that it was hard to type a text. I wasn’t planning on losing an entire night of sleep because my heart wouldn’t stop pounding really hard, Neil. This was not expected. I had an estate sale to run the next day – by God, I needed that sleep.

 Anyway. These are my thoughts on the season, and on this upswell of mourning/unhappiness at such a gut-wrenching ending. As always, this are my dumb opinions and nothing more; take with a grain of salt, etc. 

I have seen a lot of suffering on Tumblr today. Everyone is in pain, and it makes sense. I, too, am in pain. But I might be in the minority, because I thanked God/Mr. Gaiman when things turned to pure pain in the end. Because narratively, despite the anguish we all feel, this is how it needs to be. And I was getting real worried there for a second.

When we have a mini-series (ie, a show with a set number of seasons) it can’t act the same as a series without a set end. We’ve got three potential seasons; therefore, they logically should behave like a three-act play, or the three acts in the standard Western movie/book plot. This middle season is the middle act, the second act. While it definitely doesn’t work exactly the same way, and needs its own story arc to work as a season, it is still functionally the middle part of one overarching plot.

And what usually happens near the end of the second act? All Is Lost, and the Dark Night of the Soul.

We NEED this to happen. This is what makes a plot delicious. If we’d had this perfect, lovely, romantic season where the stakes aren’t raised one bit and everything is fixed at the end, we would want for nothing and the gorgeous tension that keeps us waiting and watching would be lost. We wouldn’t feel that drive to create fanfics and fanart, we wouldn’t have the need to speculate or dream, because most of the tension was eased, and you just can’t have that if you want a highly anticipated third season. We’d have nothing huge and concrete to look forward to.

In fact, I was getting really worried once the Ineffable Bureaucracy started happening on screen, because I could see (I thought) past that bend in the road toward the end. I could see how this season might conclude, with big happy confessions of love and hugs and handholding (that’s all I expected, because I only expected the same chaste level of affection with both angelic/demonic couples) and then…then it’d all be over. What more could there be? I mean, there certainly could be more, but THIS is the main thing people waited for. The Happy Confession. The hug. The handholding. Whatever we got. And in my mind, having it now, at the end of season two, just wasn’t adding up – it did not fit. It couldn’t. No, we can’t have this now. It doesn’t work.

I get this peculiar thing that happens when things start getting too “everything is great!” in a story. I get the “someone needs to die” instinct. Instead of pure happiness that things are going great, there’s this feeling of intense discomfort, because I feel the weight of the shoe that’s failing to drop. I need it to drop, or else it throws off my entire standard-Western-narrative-trained brain’s balance. In the build up to The Scene, when things seem to be going swimmingly and heading directly towards the happiest and syrupiest of endings, I had to pause and pace my living room and roll around on the floor to alleviate the sheer build up of stress. Things can’t go this well. They can’t. There hasn’t been enough bad things, this is too sweet, too much. Can’t handle it. This can’t just be pure wish-fulfillment at this point; Good Omens shouldn’t work that way, it never has. We’d be happy in the moment, but then it’ll ultimately be a let down. No more danger. Nothing keeping them apart. No more tension, no more story. It was all too easy.

And then, finally, that shoe dropped. After a season of mainly getting along and being just thrilled with each other, they began to really argue. Things got horrific and serious, and I literally let out a breath of relief. I was able to watch without pausing every two minutes for a breather. Ok. Things weren’t over. This wasn’t the end. We had more to wait for.

And then it went on. The confession started, but in that gorgeously wrong way. And for the first time that season, I was actually feeling the stress of the story. Yes, there was danger throughout this season, but it was always layered with humour and wit. You didn’t get a demon scene without them doing something hilariously stupid. You didn’t get an angel scene without them being delightfully out-of-touch. The stakes were high, but they weren’t allowed to get EXTREMELY high. We never thought there was any question of them getting out of scrapes unscathed, because it was never all serious.

Never…until now. There was zero humour at this point. After 6 episodes of being pleasantly delighted, I was feeling the dread. However, I still thought I knew where it was going.  

See, I thought I had it figured out. If I had any extra money, I would have bet some of it. I knew that, whilst they’d likely have some kind of subtle confession of love and caring, and perhaps a touch – a hug, or a hand-hold (like Gabe and Beez) – I knew we couldn’t expect a kiss. This is a story thirty-three years in the making, and it’s always been in that grey area. They weren’t humans; they didn’t necessarily show affection that way. Besides that, we’ve had so many TV shows that get close, but rarely ones that go all the way to smoochville. OFMD was one of the very first, but it was new. It wasn’t an old, established story from the 90s like this is. It didn’t have decades-old fans waiting with bated breath for canon content. For Good Omens, we heard it time and time again in interviews; it’s a kind of love story. They had this kind of marriage. They cared for each other. They had a bromance. It’s close, but never quite there. So I thought I knew exactly how this would go, and would be thrilled with what we got. 

And then it absolutely didn’t go that way. It went exactly as far as so many hoped. And it went there like a knife to the gut.

And it was perfect.

Goddamn, what a season ending. Despite my lack of appetite and failure to sleep, I could not be happier with what Mr. Gaiman did. I am screaming crying throwing up and I’m thrilled about it.

The middle of a story is typically what drags; it never holds the highest stakes. Lord knows what we’re going to get in season three (knocking on wood), but I can only expect it to get bigger and heavier. And by God and/or Satan, am I prepared, in this deliciously painful purgatory, to wait and see.  

[tojisun]

kinktober — 04: choking/spanking

recom miles quaritch x human fem reader

!! smut - minors dni; ass and pussy spanking; choking and hair pulling; slight dumbification; size difference; dirty talk; no actual penetration

kinktober mlist

it was a slip of the tongue, something that your sleep-deprived mind conjured up with not much thought. it wasn’t even something that you usually pondered on, nor was it like a nagging feeling that would keep you up at night.

you didn’t even mean it. but it didn’t matter – you still said it.

you felt miles stiffen from where he’s pressed on your back, his hand pausing from where it had been slowly massaging the swell of your hip. 

you feel yourself freeze too, body locked in trepidation. 

“what was’at?” he asks, his voice rumbling from the top of your head.

“nothing!” you are quick to reply only to hiss in discomfort when his hand squeezes your hip in response, his thumb digging into the flesh of your ass. 

“i don’t like liars,” miles says because of course he would.

you know he’s not asking because he didn’t hear, not when you’ve been there to test the extent of his new abilities. you know this is part of a bigger scheme, something that had your legs squeezing together as you swallowed the lump in your throat to finally whisper, “i said i miss the way you used to fuck me, back when you were a human.”

there was a sudden hush in the room, the two of you stilling, before you’re being yanked from miles’ front and forced onto your elbows and knees.

“miles-”

“ass up, baby.” he pushes a hand down to the small of your back, forcing you to arch up in that way he always praised you for. “stay like that or so help me, cupcake, you’ll be pregnant by the end of this.”

you startle at his words – promises you know that can’t come true – as your breath leaves your lungs in a sudden swoop. you couldn’t even force your mind to catch up before a sharp sting reverberates from your clothed ass.

you squeal, breaking your form, but that only makes miles punish you again. this time, two slaps on either side of your cheeks, your pyjama shorts and lingerie not doing anything to dampen the blow. 

“i’m sorry!” you cry out as he manhandles you back up again. 

miles laughs, the sound so cruel as it slips past his lips. “of course you are, pumpkin.” his voice curls in a teasing manner, his southern accent making his words lilt in that mean way that he loves to use. 

you twist your head to catch a glimpse of miles, hoping to use your teary eyes and pouty lips to make him buckle, but your lover’s new body is made of long limbs and all defined muscles, leaving you eyeing nothing but an expanse of blue skin. you whine, wiggling your hips, but miles just hums, his warm hands wrapping around your trimmed waist, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles on your back before they hook onto the band of your shorts.

your breath hitches, your mind going blank.

miles presses his lips on your shoulder, gentle even as he slides down the silk pyjamas off your body. “y’smell so good, hon.”

the sudden shock of cool air hitting your body is chased away by the warmth of his front, and you melt into the sheets, your eyes going heavy at the press of his body against yours. big hands cup your ass, deft fingers massaging your muscles, and you giggle at how quick it was for your body to melt in his hold. 

miles kisses you one last time before he’s pulling back up. one of his hands leaves your hips, gliding upwards to trail burning touches along your back until it reaches the base of your nape where he pauses to swipe your hair away before finally wrapping the whole of his hand around your neck. you sigh at the pressure, feeling yourself slipping under the fog. 

“see? bein’ a good girl ain’t too hard, ain’t it?” miles murmurs, his hold gaining strength, thick fingers digging into your skin. you whine, feeling the heat build up from where he’s holding you, before he eases his grip again. “but of course, you rather be a fuckin’ brat.”

the barrage of slaps on your bare ass shocks you, ripping you from the heavy daze that you were falling into. a choked whimper slips past your lips and you buckle under his hold, trying, in vain, to escape miles’ heavy hand but the grip on the back of your neck grounds you – warns you – and you go still, reduced to muffling your shaky breaths into the pillow.

miles laughs throughout, his hand falling onto the quickly-bruising skin of your ass in unexpected tempo, never once following a rhythm. you are sobbing now, torn between the beautiful pressure of your lover’s steady hold and his punishing strikes, broken cries resonating amidst the slapping sounds. 

“y’r tremblin’ so beautifully, love,” miles growls and you startle when his teeth nip at your shoulder blade, his fangs digging into your skin enough to cause angry welts. he licks at the irritated skin and leaves another hit on your right cheek. “do y’know how wet you are right now, hon?”

you reply, you think – you don’t really know. it must have been a broken whimper because miles just hums in response, his thumb sliding up the column of your neck until it teases the short strands of hair at the base of your head. you feel his hand pat your hip gently before he dips a finger into your heat to press along your wet folds. 

you blink in surprise, causing tears to trickle down your already damp face as miles plays with your sensitive slit, messing you up with every stroke. he spreads your slick along your trembling body, rumbling chuckles vibrating from his chest as he stains even the insides of your thighs. 

“goddamn, cupcake,” he snarls. “you fuckin’ reek.”

you mewl at his words, burying your head back to your pillow, trying to ignore the heat spreading on your face. 

you want him to fuck you now. want him to make a mess out of your cunt, bury all of his cock until it breaches the entrance of your cervix. pleasepleaseplease-

“miles, please,” you hiccup out loud, feeling your pleasure swell in your pussy. “fuck me already, please miles. please!”

but miles just laughs, his fingers pulling away from teasing your folds. you buck in displeasure, wiggling your hips, hoping that miles will give in but you should have known better.

you should have expected this.

miles delivers another slap on your body, this one hitting your cunt instead. you scream, the sound so guttural that miles does it again and again, ensuring that with each hit his fingers brush against your hardened clit. 

you go dizzy at the blend of muted pleasure and resonating pain, going cross-eyed at the consistent smacks. you feel more than hear the way your slick makes the slaps wetter, his palm gliding a lot easier and with more rigorous purpose. 

it’s so good; it’s not enough – your mind races to make sense of what you are feeling only to get lost at the unending pressure.

“miles! miles!” you don’t even know why you are moaning his name.

“not yet, sweetheart. just a few more,” is all your lover says and you can’t make sense of what he means. what he’s trying to achieve. 

you lose track of time, giving up on cataloguing each rush of pleasure or pain that miles gives you. he has long let go of your neck to grip on your hair, fisting messy strands as he pulls. he’s left marks along the column of your neck, and you don’t even have it in you to care about how you will hide these under your uniform tomorrow.

then, ripping past your stuttering mind, euphoria seizes you all of a sudden, growing from the pit of your belly and racing along your spine. you freeze, not able to make sense if it will peak, too drunk from miles’ undoing. all of a sudden, you feel miles’ hand gaining speed and you realize that this is what he had been building you up for.

“cummin’!” you wail, arching into miles’ hand. “miles, baby, cummin’! i’m cummin!”

miles growls from behind you, his face burrowing in the juncture of your neck. “c’mon, pumpkin. cum for me.”

and you do, your body locking as you cum, wailing his name – the only thing you are still sure of. your eyes go blind at the pleasure, your ears ringing with white noise. 

distantly, you feel him press his lips on your damp skin, licking a stripe on your marked up neck. “‘s right,” he murmurs. “y’ve been such a good girl f’r me, sweetheart. such a good girl.”

he is saying something else but you lose your consciousness before you can hear them, your last thought being the quiet rumbling of elation that is spreading through you even amidst the angry bruises that miles left you with. 

but that is alright because you know that miles will take care of you. 

he always does. 

tags: @pandoraslxna @stargirlrchive @liwooa

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Heyy I totally understand how you would feel uncomfortable about the Ed one so could you please do the insomnia one shot i cant wait to read it if you do xx

Internal Clock in Smithereens -Klaus M.

(Sorry this one took so long, I completely forgot I had nearly finished it)

She tried so incredibly hard to hide it.

The first 2 months of their relationship she came up with every excuse in the book to not stay the night at his house. Forgotten things, appointments the next day, family emergencies, and she had to give Klaus credit for putting up with it for 2 whole months before he began taking it personally.

Admittedly he considered she was just more comfortable sleeping in her own bed and so he had gone shopping and gotten the comfiest bed he could possibly find. He knew she liked it because she had drifted off on it for many naps at the strangest times, naps he always felt bad waking her up from for some reason he couldn’t identify, though she never complained.

He had also considered that she was uncomfortable around his siblings and so he set out to ensure they behaved themselves around her and they all did. Elijah loved Y/n, he was thrilled to finally meet his brothers redemption in human form, he knew this girl was it for his little brother and he would do anything he had to, to make sure she stayed with him. Even if that means controlling Kol.

Shockingly enough, Kol loved her as well. She distracted Klaus and kept him off of the youngest Mikaelson’s back, she also kept him in a mostly good mood which saved Kol many a time when he had screwed up again. Rebekah also enjoyed her (though it took her a while to warm up) after learning that Y/n was much different than her Scooby Gang friends and didn’t judge Rebekah. Y/n enjoyed spending time with the Original girl, going shopping with her, having days out just the two of them, basically giving Rebekah the best friend she had always wanted.

All 3 of his siblings would have done anything to make sure Y/n was comfortable in their home.

It was actually Elijah that proposed the possibility of her having sleeping troubles but Klaus dismissed this as he had seen her fall asleep in the oddest places at the oddest times.

When Klaus finally just asked her if she had reservations about being with him, she gave in and stayed over. She didn’t want him to think that she didn’t love him, or that she was afraid of him so she pushed through her discomfort and packed a bag, staying with him for the entire weekend.

The first day after Klaus woke up he had planned a day out for the both of them and though she was exhausted, she powered through. The second night she laid there, staring at the ceiling all night long with Klaus’ arms around her without the option of even reading on her phone, only getting about an hour and a half of actual sleep.

It was the third night that she finally snuck from his arms and ended up in the family room, reading a book. Klaus woke up around 2am and ventured off to find her, thoroughly confused as he could clearly see how exhausted she was when he looked at her eyes.

‘Love? What are you doing out of bed?’ He asked and she jumped, startled as none of the vampires in this house make noise when they walk. She had gotten used to identifying everyone she’s ever lived with by their footsteps but she can’t do it here.

‘I couldn’t sleep is all. Go back to bed Nik, I’m okay.’ He shook his head, moving to her and taking her into his arms with no effort at all.

‘I’m not going without you. Come on, I’ll make you some hot tea and you’ll fall right asleep.’ She shook her head this time and tried to get him to put her down. ‘I can compel you to help you relax…is that what it is? Are you scared of being here? I promise you that my siblings-‘

‘Nik! It has nothing to do with your family, I-‘ she heaved a heavy sigh, forcing her way to her feet and sitting back on the couch while he crouched down in front of her, taking her hands into his.

‘What’s going on, Love? I don’t understand-‘

‘I can’t sleep.’ She admitted, actually feeling good about finally saying it out loud to him. ‘I have had really bad insomnia since I was a kid. It started when I was 6, it’s why I end up napping in such strange places. I get so physically tired that my body eventually just passes out…it made for some interesting jokes with my family my whole life. That’s why I didn’t want to stay here, it’s even worse in unfamiliar places and I didn’t want to keep you up.’ Klaus paused, just watching his girls eyes as they looked over his face nervously.

‘Why didn’t you tell me, Y/n? It’s not a big deal!’ He eyes hardened and she glared at him angrily. ‘Let me rephrase that. It’s obviously a big deal that you can’t sleep. It sucks and I wish you didn’t have this problem, but it’s not a big deal to me.’ He hated how she looked up at him in that moment and he wanted so badly to comfort her, moving himself to the couch and pulling her onto his lap, kissing her head tenderly.

‘It’s embarrassing. Do you know how funny everyone thought it was when I was a kid? They got annoyed that I would be up watching TV all night but then be laughing about a new picture they took of me asleep leaning against the couch standing up. It was like my issues were a huge joke to tell at parties. My parents showed those humiliating pictures to everyone that listened, she sent one into school for my yearbook childhood picture. I don’t tell anyone…I should have just told you but I didn’t want to risk you finding it funny. God knows Kol would never let it go-‘

‘No one here will tease you, I’ll make sure of it. Now, let’s go get you to sleep. I don’t know how long compulsion will last but you’ll be able to get some rest. No more embarrassment over this, you had me worried sick, do you hear me love?’ She nodded, allowing her Hybrid to sweep her off of her feet and carry her back to his overly comfortable bed.

It turns out compulsion only works for about 3 hours at a time but considering how shitty her sleep normally is, it does wonders for her. Klaus is more than happy to wake up and compel her once again into sleeping for a few more hours and now that he can, he all but moved her into his home with him.

Apparently even a fucked up internal clock doesn’t stand a chance against a hybrid.

(This isn’t my best work. I wasn’t really into it and I feel like it really shows (even if it was already meant to be a short fic) but I hope you at least enjoy it a little bit)

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

[2nd2ndalto]

I have a headcanon that all the demigod kids routinely end up in each others beds/cabins at night, because nightmares and trauma and whatnot. So I wrote this smol fic.

~~~~~

There Is Rest and There's You

The first time Nico sees Annabeth leaving the Poseidon cabin at an ungodly early hour (having been dragged from his warm bed by Leo and Jason for an ungodly early errand), he flushes, quickly looking away. Because it's obvious, even to him, that she’d spent the night. But Annabeth merely sleepily raises a hand in greeting and continues on her way back to her own cabin.

Jason, maybe noticing Nico’s discomfort, simply shrugs. “Musical cabins,” he explains. “Happens a lot.”

Leo nods in agreement. “Yep. I had some really wicked nightmares last week, three nights running. I ended up on Jason’s floor. Would have been in the bed, but Piper got there first,” he adds, disgruntled.

Huh, Nico thinks. Musical cabins. That's a little weird.

After that, he pays more attention. It’s not unusual, as it turns out, to find the Apollo cabin overstuffed with various campers early in the morning, rivalling even the occupancy of the Hermes cabin. Sometimes it’s couples tucked in together, but more often it’s friends, siblings. Seeking comfort, and sleep.

It's six months into Nico's stay at Camp when he begins forgetting to lock the door to Cabin Thirteen. He nearly runs Harley through with his sword the first night he finds the younger boy fast asleep in his cabin. But after that, it quickly becomes routine to wake to the quiet comfort of someone else’s soft snoring across the darkened room. Most often it's Will, brushing a warm hand over Nico's forehead before settling into the other bed, but sometimes it's Harley, and several times Leo, complaining that Jason’s bed was already full.

It’s a little weird, but surprisingly nice. Nico begins leaving his door unlocked most of the time.

On a night late in February, the nightmares are worse than usual. Nico wakes in a cold sweat, heart pounding, tears welling behind his eyelids. He does what he usually does - dresses quickly, and walks. There’s something meditative about the rhythm of his boots on the ground and the sharp, cold air on his skin that usually settles him.

But the thing is, it’s really cold. And after only about half an hour he finds himself standing in the central green, torn. He can't feel his toes, but he can’t quite stomach the thought of returning to his own empty cabin, either.

His frozen feet lead him up the stairs to Cabin Seven. And gods, it’s warm inside.

There’s a soft rustle of blankets from Will’s bunk.

“Nico?” Will’s voice is soft and scratchy. “What’s wrong?”

The taller boy is out of bed and across the cabin in a heartbeat, reaching for Nico’s hand. Scanning him, Nico knows, blue eyes wide with worry.

Nico shakes his head. “I’m fine. Just - couldn’t sleep,” he murmurs, and the concern on Will’s face fades to sympathy.

“The bunk above mine is empty,” he says simply.

And that’s that. Nico climbs up, snuggles in. Will’s messy blond bedhead pops over the edge of the bunk, his smile fond. He squeezes Nico’s arm. “Sleep tight.” And then he disappears.

Nico worries it might be awkward, in the daylight. It’s anything but. The Apollo cabin is a riot of sound and motion in the morning. Austin flings a stuffed turtle at Nico's head. Nico's foot is hanging off the edge of the bunk, and Kayla tickles it, cackling when he squeaks.

“Breakfast time, sleepyhead,” she chirps.

“Sleep well?” Will asks as Nico climbs back down.

And the thing is, he really did.

Time passes. The nightmares wax and wane, but they get easier, mostly.

Until one night in July. It’s almost a year to the day since he came to stay at Camp - Nico thinks, later, maybe that’s why the nightmares hit particularly hard. He wakes shaking, gasping for air, convinced he’s fading again, permanently this time. It scares him so much more than it did when it was actually happening. He shoves his hands against the wood of his headboard, hard, positive they’re going to slip right through. They don’t, but he can't shake the panic.

Nico’s up and out the door in the space of a breath, no hesitation as he makes a beeline, barefoot, for Cabin Seven. The air is cool for July, the full moon shining bright above.

He can feel his panic ease the second he closes the door behind him, soothed by a quiet symphony of soft breathing.

But the bunk above Will’s is occupied tonight, and as Nico's eyes adjust, he realizes all the others are, too.

“Nico?” Will’s voice is a whisper. “Nightmare?” He sits up, silhouetted in moonlight.

“Yeah.” Nico steps closer. “Looks like you’re all full in here, though. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He turns to leave, but Will grabs his arm. “I’ll come with you.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. You go back to sleep.”

Will gazes at him in the dark, fingers still wrapped around Nico’s wrist. “Or you could stay. Here.”

“There’s no room, though.”

“I have room,” Will whispers.

Nico blinks at Will’s bunk, then back at Will, his stomach attempting to leap into his throat. Will’s eyes are wide, nervous.

“I... um -” Nico begins. He can feel his face heating at the thought of it.

“Gods, di Angelo, just stop talking and get into his bed. Literally no one cares,” Kayla grumbles from the next bunk over. There appears to be at least one Demeter kid in her bed. Maybe two.

Will’s fighting a grin now and he shrugs. Nico shrugs back, then… climbs into the bed. Will scoots over to make room, pulling the blankets over them both. And gods it’s warm, and it smells like Will, and when nothing else calms him, that always does.

Nico lets his eyes close. Then -

“Do - do I feel like I’m fading?” he asks in a whisper, echoes of the nightmare flashing behind his closed eyelids.

Will gazes at him. Then he reaches for Nico’s hand.

“No,” Will whispers. Someone clears their throat nearby and Will grimaces, yanking the blankets over their heads.

“Did something happen?” he asks, his breath brushing Nico’s face.

“No, just - nightmare."

Will nods in understanding. “No. You’re good,” he smiles. He goes to pull the blankets back down, then seems to reconsider.

“That’s um… that’s usually why I end up in your cabin. At night.” he admits, quiet. “Sometimes... I just need to make sure that you’re still solid.”

Nico stomach flip-flops. "Oh."

Will shrugs, sheepish. He pulls the blankets back down, settling on his side. "Here," he says, reaching for Nico's hand again. "Then neither of us has to worry." He tangles their fingers together, reaching out to lay his other hand on Nico's arm, tethering him.

Will's soft smile in the dark is dazzling, and his hands are warm, and Nico worries his own answering smile might just light up the entire cabin.

When he wakes hours later to the familiar sounds of chaos, his head tucked against Will's shoulder, Will's face buried in his hair, well. He thinks maybe this musical cabins thing isn't so bad after all.

Notes

This is a short one! I tried to challenge myself to write something coherent in 1000 words or less. I almost managed it.

It is also my personal headcanon that Harley kind of attaches himself to Nico & sees him as a big brother. This comes up in something else I'm working on as well.

I would love to hear your related headcanons! Snuggly demigods! Sleeping in heaps like puppies!

Jason may not come up much in my fics but please rest assured he is Always Alive.

[meiiuka]

hii!! i rlly love ur posts and i wanted to ask,

could you write fuyuhiko, ishimaru, and shuichi with a reader who ends up in the hospital alot?

if you cant/dont want to, just ignore this post! no hard feelings lol ^^ anyway, have a good day!!!

hi!! i’m so happy to hear you like my posts, it means a lot to me <3

fuyuhiko, ishimaru, and shuichi with an s/o who ends up in the hospital often:

category: headcanons, x reader, comfort, fluff

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu:

• he just wants to protect you and make you feel more safe so he holds you closely when you’re feeling sick or anxious

• whenever you end up in the hospital, he gets really anxious and can become desperate for answers

• during your stay there, consider him your guardian angel bc he will not leave your side even if you insist

• he checks on you veryyy often. and he tries to be unobvious about it sometimes but 😭 he cares so much he can’t hide it

• “i don’t care what it takes to make sure you’re okay, i would go to the ends of the goddamn earth for you, got that?”

• he’s super stubborn and needs to make sure you’re okay, so he waits in the hospital room with you

• and if he can’t? he will wait outside in the parking lot until he can

• he’s argues with the staff about letting him in so he can check on you,, sometimes it actually works

• he kisses your forehead when you fall asleep because he wants to make you sleep well

• “i love you. squeeze my hand if you’re in pain, i can take it.”

Kiyotaka Ishimaru:

• he’s alert to any signs of illness or discomfort and has learned your signals overtime

• “y/n, i do worry there may be something wrong! are you feeling ok? should i get you a water? medicine?”

• he needs to be near you in case something happens. he loves you and wants to be prepared if anything occurred

• if you end up in the hospital, it never gets less scary for him

• even if its routine, he still can’t mask his anxiety behind potentially losing the love of his life

• “i felt too worried about you to sleep properly last night… would it be okay if i asked to stay in your hospital room overnight?”

• if this means he has to sleep on the floor, so be it, he will

• he tries to avoid smothering you but tends to be really physically clingy, just in fear you may feel alone

• “my love, tell me how you are. i want to listen to your fears and pain… i’d never move an inch if you asked me to! i’m right here.”

• he takes you out on lots of dates once you’re discharged, making sure you handle yourself carefully when you go outside again

Shuichi Saihara:

• he tries to come to your door every day and texts your phone if he knows he isn’t going to be able to see you irl

• “hey… y/n, are you feeling ok today? i was worried about you last night, i couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

• he doesn’t want you to worry about him worrying, he just wants you to feel that he cares

• and he definitely does. a whole lot more than he could even express to you

• when you end up in the hospital he’s the first to show up. how did he even know you were there?

• “i just… felt like something was off. gut feeling… and i needed to see the scene.”

• he loves writing little cards and sending lots of flowers and surprises to you when you’re in the hospital— every single time no matter how many

• “oh these? yeah, some are from your family and friends, but these ones are from me.”

• and he points to a neat stack of wrapped presents and cards

• he massages your scalp and leans over to kiss your lips and hand while you lay down

• “i love you so, so much. i could never lose you, i just want you to be safe and… comfortable. i’ll hold your hand right here.”

[knockyasocksoff2022]

It Counts

Sicktember 2024 - Prompt #10 The Sniffles (TM)

Words: 1,642

Pairing: Nakajima Atsushi / Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

POV: First person (Atsushi)

Atsushi’s Perspective:

The single light fills the bathroom with a warm glow, colouring my reflection orange in the mirror. I take the temperature reading device out of my mouth before it can start to beep, so as not to wake Ryuu.

Sure enough, no fever. Perfectly normal. It’s just the weather change giving the tiger, an animal taht prefers warmer environments, a bit of trouble. I’m being dramatic.

‘Spoilt brat! Since when did you become such a hypochondriac? Such weakness will only bring everyone around you down.’

The thought startles me, it came from somewhere deep inside my mind, the part that never really left the orphanage, that sometimes I fear never really will.

As quietly as I can, I walk back to bed. The entire flat has heated floors, but it still feels a bit cold. I know it’s just me because Ryuu sleeps, unbothered.

Still, if there’s any chance I even could be sick, I should sleep on the sofa. Just to be safe.

‘You selfish person, why didn’t you move to the sofa when you felt tired earlier? You’ll get him sick and then he might die!’

My mind's scolding confuses me. Am I sick or not?

-

The sofa is comfortable . . . normally when I’m sitting or cuddled against Ryuu, but now the discomfort is familiar. I drift to sleep, scolding myself for worrying about the neck pain.

–

“Huh?”

I think Ryuu said something to me, but I don’t really wake up until he starts the coffee grinder. The sound grate sound my ears.

“I said: Good morning, Jinko.”

“Oh.”

“May I ask why you are on the sofa?”

Crap! I can’t tell him. I mean, it’s not like I’m even ill. I don’t need him freaking out.

“Uh, I got overheated last night, so I came out here.” My voice sounds way too deep, almost guttural.

He raises an eyebrow, pouring the ground coffee into the coffee maker without looking. “Mmm, interesting, seeing as you’re wearing a jumper.”

Oops.

“Well, the jumper and blanket were too much, but the jumper by itself was fine.” I know I’m only digging myself deeper, but what else can I do? I can’t have him fussing over me when I’m not actually ill.

“Nice try, Jinko. As much as I enjoy you’re morning voice, you are clearly congested.” He trunks his back to me before I can retort. 

Ah, well, there goes that. I sigh, feeling the mucus shift unpleasantly in the back of my throat. I stand, crossing the living room to the kitchen, to make breakfast.

“Peppermint, or Lemon and Ginger tea, Jinko?” He trunks around, holding up two bags.

“Ryuu, stop. It’s barely the sniffles.”

“Tea is proven to help with symptoms like sore throats and congestion.” He explains.

“I know that, but I’m not-I don’t need all that. I’m fine, just- please don’t. Let me make my breakfast. I’ve got to pack my lunch too. I have to be at work at 7:00.”

“Nakajima Atsushi . . .”

My full name. That means he’s about to try and convince me (and it’s about to work). I cut him off.

“No, I don’t even have a fever. I’m not sick enough for this.”

“For what, Atsushi, a little tea? You drink tea all the time, what’s so special about it today?”

“I, uh- you don’t need to make tea for me.”

“Of course not, nothing I do for you is “necessary”, Jinko. I am the sick one. I am the one who requires care, Everything I do for you is because I want to. I know you are perfectly capable of making tea, so are you going to do it yourself?”

I won’t. He’s caught me.

“Well, Atsushi, will you?”

I can’t. It’s not right.

The way he’s looking at me . . . I have to give him so explanation. 

“I-I don’t deserve it,” I whisper. It feels pathetic to say it even if the words are air-horn loud inside my head. “I’m sorry, sorry for troubling you.”

His eyes narrow, faint brows furrowing, and he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. I did just what I didn’t want to do. I made trouble for him.

He exhales heavily, then speaks, “Don’t deserve it, hmm? Well, tell me then, Jinko, how sick do you have to be before you do? Why do I deserve all you do for me?”

What? What is he saying? Of course, he deserves it.

“Because you can’t help it, and I love you!” My voice breaks. It hurts a bit. 

Weak.

He exhales again, “God, Atsushi, do you hear yourself? I can’t help it? Of course not. But neither can you. You didn’t decide to become ill. You-”

“But I’m not ill, not really. I don’t have a fever, it doesn’t count.”

His eyes widen. He stands frozen for a second, then he’s hugging me, hard, face pressed into my neck, nuzzling me.

“No, Ryuu, stop, you’ll catch-”

He ignores me, “Is that what you think?”

“Yes! Now please back up!”

“If it doesn’t count, then why shouldn’t I hug you?” He asks, “If it doesn’t count, why shouldn’t I do this?” He comes close again, lips nearly touching mine. 

I shove him away, barely falling back as I do. I might now be very ill, but for Ryuu, even small things can turn bad.

“Just because you have no measurable symptoms doesn’t mean that you aren’t feeling poorly. Yes?”

I sniffle, I can’t help it anymore. “Y-yes.”

“Now, which tea would you like?”

“Um, Lemon and Ginger, please.”

“Alright, go back to bed. I’ll bring it in.”

“Ryuu, I have work.”

“Sleep would speed up the recovery process.” He argues.

“I want to go to work, I feel well enough. And work would distract me.” It’s true, I’m barely congested. I don’t even have a headache.

He looks at me with slightly narrowed eyes, scanning me up and down, then nods, “There’s no need to tell you that I trust you Jinko. If you say you’re fine, I believe it, but at least allow me to make you proper breakfast and pack your lunch. Try and get a few more minutes in while I do so. You’d be no help at work if you allowed yourself to get worse.”

I can’t argue with that, as harsh as he may seem, Ryuu always knows what will knock sense into me, it seems. I suppose that’s why we’re dating.

-

True to his word, I have plenty of time to dress for work when Ryuu wakes me.

“But, Atsushi, you are not wearing that ridiculous get-up, not today.”

He hands me a stack of clothes before returning to the kitchen to finish breakfast.

I unfold the stack. It contains my usual colours, with slightly different components. Instead of my usual capris, there’s a pair of soft, black joggers (the fashionable kind with the thin ankle elastics), an undershirt and a soft, white T-shirt (it’s long on me, so it must be his) Lastly, a black cable knit jumper to complete the outfit. There are throat lozenges in the pocket.

I leave it off for now, knowing my elevated body temperature I might overheat, but after a second of debate, I stuff it in my bag. Just in case I can’t take the office’s air con as well as usual.

Ryuu’s breakfast is delicious, and I eat almost all of it.

-

I blow him a kiss as I get up. He catches it, then hands one of his black lunch boxes. It feels heavier than it should. I give him a questioning look.

“Soup.” He explains, looking me over with a frown.

“Really, Ryuu, I’m alright.”

“Where’s the jacket?”

“I’ve got it right here, in my bag.” I open my satchel to show him, “See.”

“It’s windy out today, put it on.” 

Chuckling at his antics, I do. “Happy?” And I hand him back the bills from his pocket. “I think you left these.”

“O, that’s for cab fare. It should cover your trip there and home.”

“Ryuu, you don’t have to, the train is perfectly fin-”

He places a finger over my lips, reaches behind me to the coat hooks for a scarf, and fastens it on my neck.

“The station is blocks and blocks away, you don’t need to walk today. I’m sure you’ll get your steps in adequately at work. There. Now you may go. And you had better tell Dazai-san that you can’t fight today. If I see you, I’ll drag you straight back home.”

“Yeah, yeah, Ryuu, I will.” I blow him one last kiss before putting on my mask and heading out the door.

–

Of course, I get funny looks for showing up in a cab, and my outfit, but it’s mostly forgotten when they see my mask. Thankfully, Dazai-san steps in to keep Yosano-sensei, and Kyouka from worrying too much, as much of a hypochondriac as he is, he seems to understand not wanting attention. 

I’m glad for my jacket, the office feels colder than usual today.

-

By lunch, I feel better. Kunikida-san put me on desk duty, even when I instead he didn’t, but he said it hardly mattered since we had no field cases today. Judging by the amount of paperwork from our latest cases, that’s probably a good thing. 

Despite only filing papers all day, my appetite has come back. The tiger heals wounds instantaneously, but she takes a bit longer for things like this, so I’m not surprised. I’m starving.

It looks like Ryuu anticipated that I would be feeling better, just like always, even when he chides me he has more faith than I have in myself sometimes. 

The lunch box contains all the ingredients for chazuke, arranged carefully, minus the tea, which is in the thermos. That must be why it felt heavy. For some reason, seeing the lunch box makes my chest feel warm. It’s nice. Is this how Ryuu feels when I care for him? I can only hope so.

As I pour the tea, I can only think that maybe my burdens aren’t as big as I think they are. Maybe sharing my burdens isn’t always so terrible. Maybe sometimes sharing can make them smaller.

Either way, Ryuu’s double portion of Chazuke is wonderful.

[fairyniceyeah]

💎 I love my team, I love my crew (Part 5/7)

Title from Super (SEVENTEEN)

ILMTILMC Part I ILMTILMC Part II ILMTILMC Part III ILMTILMC Part IV

Summary: Jun receives bad news.

CW: emeto, high fevers, IVs

Sickies: Joshua + Seungkwan + S.Coups/Seungcheol + Vernon + Woozi/Jihoon + Minghao Caretakers: Jun + DK/Seokmin + Dino/Chan + Wonwoo + Mingyu + Hoshi/Soonyoung + Jeonghan

💎😸

“You probably know better than me who we should check on first, Jun-ssi”, the medic said kindly. 

Jun sighed and mentally went through the list of members. 

Seungcheol? Vomiting and fever, Vernon and Dino were with him

Jeonghan? Fine

Joshua? Bad headache and vomiting, under Seokmin’s care

Jun? Fine

Hoshi? Fine

Wonwoo? Fine

Woozi? Vomiting but he seemed better and had Jeonghan and Hoshi with him

Minghao? Sick from both ends but finally asleep and on medication

Mingyu? Fine

Seokmin? Fine

Seungkwan? Vomiting but was with Vernon and Dino

Vernon? Fine, probably grossed out, but fine

Dino? Fine

At least there were still more members who were fine than those who were not.

“Let’s go see how Joshua-hyung is doing”, he decided. He hadn’t seen Joshua himself yet and he knew that Seokmin would probably start bouncing off the wall if he was alone for much longer. Jun could sympathize. He couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to just stay with a sick member alone cooped up in a cabin all day - and then be a social butterfly like Seokmin.

Knowing that even knocking on the door could be hurtful to Joshua’s ears, Jun just carefully pushed down the doorknob and peeked inside. It was completely dark inside, not an ounce of light spilling inside except for from the opened door. 

Once his eyes were adjusted, Jun was able to spot Joshua asleep on one bed. He seemed peaceful enough. Yet his breath caught in his throat when he spotted Seokmin laying on the other bed, completely undisturbed by the new arrivals. Was he sick too?

Jun rushed over, trying to keep quiet as much as possible but also be there as fast as he could. Seokmin didn’t stir. Placing his hand on Seokmin’s brow he found it blessedly cool. At least he wasn’t running a fever.

At the touch, Seokmin did wake up, starting to squirm under Jun’s hand and sighing. His eyes blinked open. “Junnie-hyung? What are you doing?”

“Are you sick too? We found you here asleep…”

Seokmin laughed softly, a huff of warm air, and sat up. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and said: “Nah, I’m good. I must have fallen asleep. It’s pretty boring in here. Shua-hyung’s been asleep for a few hours.”

Relief flooded Jun’s whole being. One worry less.

“Oh, good. That’s actually really good.”

“Hm, yeah.” Seokmin didn’t sound that convinced. “I think hyung’s body is so exhausted and in pain that he can’t do anything but sleep. He’s either vomiting from the headache or in so much pain he’s crying when awake.”

Damn. Jun had just been hopeful.

“Can you give him an IV?”, Jun asked, turning to the medic. “If it’s like his migraines he won’t be able to keep anything inside.”

The medic nodded but said: “I need light for that…”

Yeah, that would be a catastrophe. If it was only half as bad as a migraine then Joshua would not be able to tolerate any light. But Jun couldn’t also not just decide for him if he wanted to abstain from medication for momentary awful discomfort.

“Let me wake him”, Jun suggested, “we’ll ask him if he wants the IV and then we’ll see how to make it as comfortable for him as possible.”

The other two nodded in agreement and Jun approached the sleeping member carefully. He gently shook Joshua’s shoulder and whispered his name. After a few seconds he was rewarded with a groan.

“Shua-hyung, you awake?”, Jun whispered. 

The older member gave another groan, then his breathing took on an irregular pattern and hitched. Uh oh. Jun held his breath in turn, hoping that nothing would come of it but then Joshua gagged and both Jun and the medic hurried to turn Joshua on his side, so he wouldn't choke. Just in time. 

Vomit spilled from Joshua’s lips onto the bed, soaking the sheets instantly. At least he wasn’t choking. But the pained whimpers Joshua gave with every retch were heartwrenching. There really wasn’t any way to get him to lean over the side of the bed to get sick in the trash can, considering there was vomit all around him and he wouldn’t be able to hold himself up over it. 

So Jun just held his hand, letting Joshua squeezed it to combat the pain. 

Finally it seemed to be over and Jun was barely able to stop Joshua from rolling over into the puddle as his body gave into weakness. 

“Shua-hyung?”, Jun whispered, “can you hear me?”

“Junnie?”, Joshua rasped. “What? My head … it hurts so bad.”

“I know, hyungie. Do you think we can lift you onto the clean bed and then the medic can give you an IV to stop the pain? Is that okay?”

Joshua didn’t even hesitate to agree. “Please.”

“If you lift him, I can look in the meantime where I put my sleeping mask”, Seokmin whispered. 

“Good idea.” It would likely be the only way they could make this comfortable for the vocalist.

Gently maneuvering around the vomit, Jun and the medic lifted Joshua to the clean bed on which Seokmin had slept previously. The movement seemed to hurt Joshua and make him more queasy again but he didn’t throw up again. 

Once they had settled the vocalist under the covers, Jun sat down by his head, gently massaging his forehead. It seemed to help at least a little bit by the way Joshua relaxed. 

“Hyung?”, Jun whispered as Seokmin approached, holding the promised sleeping mask, “I know that sounds like an awful idea right now but to put in the IV the medic needs to see. We need to turn on the lights for the moment but Seokminnie has got a sleeping mask for you so you can cover your eyes, okay?”

“‘Kay.”

Careful to not hurt him further, Jun placed his hands under Joshua’s neck - the older whined at the loss of the massage - and lifted his head so it was resting against his forearms. It gave Seokmin enough room to place the mask over Joshua’s eyes. 

Then the medic turned on the light. Joshua didn’t seem to notice. Good. Jun continued the forehead massage as much as he could without moving the mask and watched as the medic started preparing Joshua’s arm to put the needle in. 

Unable to see, Joshua flinched when the cool alcoholic spray came in contact with his skin. 

“Sorry”, the medic whispered, “do you want me to tell you before I poke you or not?”

“Tell me.” Joshua’s voice was shaking. It was clear he was afraid. He had never been the biggest fan of needles and would prefer oral medication over the intravenous ones and the fact that he had so easily agreed was a big tell on how he was feeling. 

“Okay, just breathe normally”, the medic advised, “I’ll count to three. On three I want you to breathe in. I’ll be careful, okay?”

Joshua hummed his agreement. But as the medic started counting he suddenly whispered: “Stop. Stop. I…”

He coughed and for a moment Jun was scared he would throw up again. Joshua didn’t but his voice was tiny when he asked: “Can somebody hold my hand?”

He was likely scared of accidentally moving when poked. It had happened before - was the reason actually why he didn’t like needles.

“Of course I will, hyung”, Seokmin said softly before Jun could answer and managed to worm himself close enough to gently hold Joshua’s hand in both of his, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of Joshua’s hand. 

“‘Thanks, Seokminnie. I think I can do it now.”

The medic started counting again and as instructed Joshua breathed in on the count, just as the doctor slid the needle in. There was no flinch, no movement. It seemed like Joshua hadn’t even noticed it happening.

“You did well, Joshua-ssi”, the medic praised and, proud of his hyung, Jun leaned down to kiss his forehead. “You did it, hyung.”

“It’s in?”, Joshua rasped. 

“Yeah, it’s in. I’ll connect the fluids, the painkillers and the antiemetic now. You can go back to sleep if you want.”

It seemed like Joshua didn’t need to be told twice. His breathing evened out nearly immediately. 

“Will you stay here with him?” Jun now turned his attention to Seokmin. He would love to send the younger just back to sleep - it probably was good to have at least one well rested member considering that the night would likely be long for him and Jeonghan at least - but there was still vomit on the bed sheets. “I’ll ask somebody to help you with … that.”

Seokmin grimaced. 

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

In the hallway they passed Wonwoo, Mingyu and a noona, all of them carrying thermos cans. With a weak smile the three members high-fived each other, some of the last ones standing.

“Maybe some of them can keep some nutrition down”, Mingyu explained the containers, Wonwoo nodding along. “What are the room contributions? How are they?”

It was good thinking. Jun hoped that the medication would soon help and the sick ones might be able to keep some nutrition down - especially Minghao. 

The rapper-duo seemed happy enough, mostly burden-free if not necessarily worry-free. Jun hated to burst their bubble. “Hoshi and Jeonghan-hyung are with Jihoon and Minghao. Minghao got an IV and Jihoon was confident he’ll be able to keep down some meds. Dino and Vernon are with Seungcheol and Seungkwan. I’m not quite up to date, but both have fevers and keep vomiting. Seokmin is with Joshua-hyung. Actually, can one of you go to him? Shua threw up on his bedding and someone needs to stay with him while somebody goes to the laundry room.”

Wonwoo sighed, handed his container to Mingyu and saluted half-heartedly. “Can’t slack off my room-cleaning services now.”

Mingyu laughed a bit and Jun cracked a grin too. Maybe everything would work out in the end.

Yeah, he was wrong.

Neither Seungcheol nor Seungkwan were still asleep when Jun and the medic entered the bedroom. In fact the room was in chaos. Jun knew they shouldn’t have let the maknaes alone - it wasn’t that he trusted them, he would with his life, but both of them were not very used to dealing with sick members. 

Seungcheol was leaning over the side of the bed, throwing up into a trash can but not managing to hit it every time he retched. The leader seemed weak, feverish and barely awake. Dino was struggling to hold him up. It must have happened very suddenly from how it looked, like Dino had managed to hold Seungcheol up just before he would have toppled off the bed. Now he was unable to adjust his hold on the general leader without risking dropping him. Abandoned ice packs were melting into the sheets.

From the bathroom there came the sound of gagging as well and Vernon and Seungkwan were missing. 

The first thing Jun did was rush over to help Dino hold the leader in a position where he didn’t threaten to fall off the bed. Just from touching Seungcheol’s t-shirt Jun could tell that their mat-hyung was boiling hot. Every wave of vomit pouring out of him seemed to seep his strength and once he was done, he just slumped onto the bed, eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head. 

“Cheollie?”, Jun asked timidly, for the first time today, scared. He could handle crying and vomiting hyungs and dongsaengs. Mat-hyungs passing out from high fevers were not in the cards. 

Seungcheol just trembled, his breath coming in heavy puffs. It was clear he wasn’t really in the room.

“How high is his fever?” Jun turned to the maknae to ask the dreaded question. Dino looked like he was about to break into tears and Jun pulled him into his arms, shushing him as the tears actually fell.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s gonna be okay”, he whispered, patting Dino’s waist. “Did you manage to take his temperature?”

But that only caused Dino to cry harder. 

“I … I tried to”, the maknae sobbed out, at times interrupted by hiccoughs, “but that must have triggered him and he started vomiting. Vernon had said earlier he didn’t feel good either but he … he said he didn’t want to make your jobs even harder though I knew he was terrified. When Cheollie-hyung started vomiting, he ran to the bathroom and started throwing up too. Kwan-ah went to check on him despite being sick himself.” 

No wonder Dino was this distraught. Jun was getting overwhelmed from just listening. So he just rocked the crying dancer from side to side, hoping it would calm him down. 

“Jun-ssi?”, the medic called out and reluctantly the older dancer let go of his dongsaeng to turn around. Dino let him but clutched his hand instead, wiping his eyes with the other wrist. 

The medic was lowering a shaking Seungkwan to the ground, who immediately flung himself at Vernon who was pale and even from afar the terror in his eyes was visible. They both must have gotten sick. Jun stepped closer, hoping that Seungcheol could hold out a minute or two without attention. 

“I’m sorry, Kwan-ah”, Vernon whispered, holding onto his best friend tightly, “I didn’t mean to set you off too.”

“It’s not your fault, Nonie”, Seungkwan mumbled back, hanging his head in exhaustion. “I was already feeling pretty sick again. I love cuddling but Cheollie-hyung is so overwhelmingly warm…” He trailed off.

“We’ll get some fever reducers into him”, the medic said, “don’t worry.”

He rummaged in his bag for something, then suddenly he frowned. He took out one of the fluid bags and turned it around. Put it back and did the same with the next one. Once he had checked them all over, he looked up at Jun with an unreadable expression. 

“Jun-ssi, can I talk with you outside?”

This could not be good. 

“Do you have a thermometer that is not oral?”, Jun asked, hoping that the medic understood his intention. To emphasize his point he slightly nodded his head towards the still sniffing and hiccoughing Dino. 

“Yeah”, the medic said and handed a thermometer gun to Jun. 

“Take their temperatures, okay, Dino-yah?”, Jun instructed, hoping it would sufficiently distract the three maknaes from the fact that two of them were sick and their leader was basically passed out on his bed.

Dino nodded.

Taking a deep breath, Jun followed the medic into the hallway. 

“What’s wrong?” His heart was beating in his chest and his pulse was racing. He wasn’t sure how to deal with anything else bad happening.

“I don’t know how to say this”, the medic stuttered out, now looking more and more freaked out.

“What is it?” Jun knew his voice sounded sharp but he feared he would combust if he didn’t soon find out what was going on.

“I took the standard medicine bag my company provided with me. Somebody must have made a mistake when checking them. Uhm, well, most of the medications are expired.” Jun’s expression must have been one of absolute horror, if it was anything close to how he felt internally and the medic reacted to. “I checked the dates on the medication I administered to Minghao-ssi and Joshua-ssi. But I just noticed that I only have one bag of antiemetics left, no saline solution and no fever reducers. I’m so sorry, Jun-ssi.”

For a moment Jun didn’t know what to say. He wanted to yell at the medic. He wanted to sue his company. But it didn’t help now. Not with so many members fighting for their health and some that would surely get sick in the future too.

“Can’t they be used even after expired?”, Jun asked desperately, feeling close to tears.

“No. They might be only less effective but they could also have bacterial growths or might have changed their chemical composition”, the medic replied, sounding heartfeltly sorry.

Jun nodded slightly, trembling all over. “Okay. Thank you anyways.”

“I’m really sorry, Jun-ssi. Let me know what I can do for you?”

“I am too. For now … why don’t you go check on the sick staff? If the medications are limited and somebody is in desperate need…”

“Okay. Think about who might need the medication the most and let me know.”

Jun watched the medic scurry away. An angry, frustrated tear rolled down his face but he wiped it away. He needed to pull himself together. He didn’t want to make the decision on his own. As soon as he could, he would speak with Jeonghan.

But first he had to check on Vernon, Dino, Seungkwan and Seungcheol.

💎🐢

Vernon wanted to cry. Actually he wasn’t sure if his face was covered in sweat or tears. 

He hated being sick and vomiting scared him. He had only barely managed to push through for Seungkwan’s sake but now that he was reduced to a queasy, slightly feverish puddle of human on the tiny bathroom floor he regretted everything. 

He hadn’t been able to hide how he felt from Chan, constantly stifling nauseous burps into his fist until the younger had asked him how he felt. Vernon hadn’t been strong enough to keep lying but when Dino had wanted to go get a hyung Vernon didn’t want to burden them even more. There was too much going on.

He was just glad that unlike Minghao he was just nauseous though he might have even preferred the other direction. 

Now that he had thrown up - feeling sick and seeing the leader throw up had been too much and he had thrown up into his mouth before he had even made it to the toilet - he felt wretched. Back when he was just queasy he had told himself that it was maybe just sympathy and his fear but now he couldn’t deny he was sick and he would vomit again. 

So, no matter how embarrassing it was to fall apart in front of three of his members and a staff member, he couldn’t help but cry into Seungkwan’s chest. His best friend held him close, not caring about the fact that they were on the bathroom floor and that Vernon could technically throw up all over him. He didn’t have the best record with making it to the bathroom. 

Even apologizing for setting Seungkwan off was met with gentle care. Vernon didn’t know what he would do without the vocalist. He was vaguely aware of Jun leaving with the medic but he was more concerned with trying to stop crying and trying not to be sick again.

“Nonie”, Seungkwan whispered, pressing his lips to Vernon’s forehead. “Breathe. You’re going to be okay. We’ll take care of you.”

Vernon sniffed and nodded, trying to regulate his breathing.

“Vernonie-hyung? Can you look at me?”, Chan asked and Vernon did as asked. The maknae quickly took his temperature, reading out the reading. The numbers didn’t really make sense to him, no matter that he had grown up in Korea, his family had still often used the Fahrenheit system for body temperatures so he had no idea what that meant.

Seungkwan translated: “Medium fever.”

“Okay.”

Once it was revealed that Seungkwan too had a medium fever, Chan went to check on their mat-hyung. Vernon didn’t like to admit it but he was terrified. Seeing the older member this sick made Vernon want to cry. Maybe it was the fever making him emotional. He didn’t know.

What he did know was that his stomach was suddenly not feeling good again.

“Kwan”, he gasped out and before he knew it, his head was in the toilet again with the first wave of throw up painting the water murky. He gagged again and brown sprayed against the porcelain. Tears dripped down his face and mixed with the sick below him. 

“It’s okay, let it out, I got you”, Seungkwan mumbled, though his voice sounded a bit stifled. 

Suddenly Jun was there too. “Oh, babies. Kwan-ah, go lie back down if you can, it’s okay, I got Nonie.”

Seungkwan let go of Vernon, causing the younger to sob and consequently throw up again. Jun patiently sat with him, not leaving in all the time Vernon gagged and cried hovering over the toilet.

Finally his stomach seemed to grant him mercy and he bonelessly fell back into his hyung who kissed the top of his head, helped him wash out his mouth, didn’t care that Vernon used him as a human tissue and even half-carried him back to bed. As soon as he was in reach, Vernon fell down onto it, burying his burning face in Seungkwan’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry I couldn't be there for you, love”, Seungkwan mumbled, his voice shaking.

“Don’t … it’s okay. Junnie-hyung took good care of me.”

A knock came on the door and Jun conversed with whoever had entered. Vernon didn’t have the strength to turn and look or try to figure it out with just hearing.

“Kwan-ah? Nonie?”, Jun suddenly said, “Mingyu made some juk. Let’s try to eat a bit, okay?”

Vernon wanted anything but eat and Seungkwan seemed to feel the same way. Despite everything they soon were upright, with Dino helping Seungkwan eat while Vernon was leaning back against Mingyu’s broad chest, getting fed by the older rapper. 

Across from them Jun tried to feed the feverish and sick leader but it was a slow process. It seemed like Seungcheol’s brain wasn’t even online enough to chew and swallow. He coughed a few times as something got stuck in his throat and Vernon pressed himself back against Mingyu, trying to block out the disgusting sounds.

Neither of them managed much, but apparently enough for Jun to decide they should try some medication. Mingyu and Dino managed to get the two 98-liners to take them, both of them clutching each other's hand. Vernon was not very confident he’d be able to keep it down but the cool motion sickness patch, as well as a cool cloth on his brow lulled him back to sleep before the nausea could boil over.

💎🍚

Jihoon cursed his past confidence. Shouldn’t he have learned earlier that he couldn’t keep anything down? The antiemetic staying down must have been a fluke. He had been tricked into false beliefs by his empty stomach and now he was paying the price. 

He woke up only shortly after he had fallen asleep again. His stomach was cramping even worse than earlier and nausea filled every part of his being. Still, he pretended to be asleep, taking deep, measured breaths. 

It only helped enough that he didn’t start gagging but just barely. He hoped if he just laid like this, he would just fall back asleep. Somewhere close by he could hear Jeonghan and Soonyoung talking to each other, a comforting buzz in his ears. A hand was running through his hair. But sleep wouldn’t come.

Another sharp cramp tore through his stomach and this time he couldn’t stop the pained cry from escaping his lips. He clamped his mouth shut just in time to stop a new gag.

“Jihoonie?”, Jeonghan’s voice asked and the hand stopped. 

Caught, Jihoon opened his eyes to find both older members leaning over him, both with a worried expression on their face. Jihoon tried to smile but the corners of his mouth would barely lift.

“Baby?”, Soonyoung asked when Jihoon didn’t answer. “Do you feel sick again?”

Jihoon nodded. There was no use in denying it.

Jeonghan cooed. Normally Jihoon would have hit him for that. Now even the thought of moving was nauseating. The worst was the pain, however.

“It hurts”, he whispered, curling into himself and pressing his hands against the churning organ.

The older vocalist sat down next to Jihoon on the bed and rubbed his back in comforting circles. “Try to breathe normally, okay? Can we try to stretch out your legs? I think that might help with the pain as well.”

Jihoon trusted his hyung enough that he let Jeonghan and Soonyoung carefully move him, despite the fact that his brain screamed at him that moving was bad and the nausea that was threatening to make him vomit again. And moving hurt, a lot. No matter how careful they were.

Tears were running down Jihoon’s cheeks when he was finally straight on his back, legs stretched out. Surprisingly, it did feel better. It still hurt, of course, but it wasn’t as debilitating as before. Soonyoung was rubbing his calf through the blanket, which was calming him down too.

“You probably shouldn’t have taken the medication on an empty and already very upset stomach”, Jeonghan pointed out, “I’m sorry, I should have paid more attention.”

“It’s okay, hyung”, Jihoon whispered. 

The door opened to admit Mingyu carrying two thermos bottles as far as Jihoon could see. 

“Haneul-noona and I made some juk”, Mingyu announced cheerfully, “do we have some patients who want a taste?” 

Oh hell no.

“You’re just in time, Mingyu-yah. We just decided that Jihoonie needs to eat.” Soonyoung sounded much more happy than he had any right to be.

“We did?”, Jihoon asked, feeling his stomach churn at the thought. No, eating was not his plan. 

“You should try to eat, baby”, Jeonghan said with a nod and a gentle smile, “the pain and the nausea might just come from an empty stomach and taking meds on said empty stomach.”

As much as Jihoon wanted to do anything but eat, he had to admit they had a point. And Mingyu looked awfully proud of himself. 

“Okay”, he agreed quietly.

“What about Minghao?”, Soonyoung asked. “Should we wake him?”

Jeonghan nodded. “He needs fluids too. I’ll wake him, okay? You take Jihoonie?”

It seemed like one second he was laying down, the next Jihoon was leaning against Soonyoung’s side with the older holding a bowl and a spoon in his hands. Across from them Jeonghan was softly whispering to a teary Minghao, who looked unhappy to be awake and uncomfortable with the IV.

“Eat, baby”, Soonyoung encouraged and lifted the spoon to Jihoon’s lips. Against his better judgment Jihoon took it in his mouth. The rice porridge with an aftertaste of chicken was tasty, yes, but Jihoon had to fight against the urge to spit it out again. Soonyoung seemed happy he was eating and Mingyu was proud and maybe Jeonghan was right that it would help.

Despite every bite and swallow being an inner struggle, Jihoon managed to finish the food in record time. Tasting it made it worse, so he tried to get it down quickly. 

“Thanks, hyung”, Minghao said, smiling softly at Mingyu, “it’s really good.”

The young dancer seemed to have overcome his struggles with being awake and now even seemed a bit hungry. Maybe Jihoon should have just swallowed his pride and just let the medic place the IV. It might have made him feel more comfortable, he could have been happily eating too.

“Yeah, thanks”, Jihoon pressed out, feeling sweat break out on his brow. His stomach was somersaulting and aching so badly. He felt overly full even if he portion had been pretty small and before he had been empty. He dropped his head on Soonyoungi’s shoulder and took deep breaths.

Mingyu and the noona quickly said their goodbyes, hoping to distribute more food to the other sick members. 

That was when Jun knocked on the door, nervously entering. 

“Is everything in here okay?”, he asked, stumbling a bit over his words. 

“Yeah, we’re good”, Jeonghan confirmed. Oh, how Jihoon wished those words were true. But Jeonghan was already helping a sleepy Minghao back under his covers and now mustered Jun in concern. The least Jihoon could do was try to wait to puke again until Jun was calmed down. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Hyung, can we speak outside?”

“Go, hyung”, Hoshi said when Jeonghan seemed to hesitate. 

“Come on, Junnie.”

The two disappeared out the door and left Jihoon and Soonyoung alone, considering that Minghao was already snoring a bit.

“You wanna lie back down too?”, the dancer leader asked.

“I think I want to stay upright a bit.”

There was no way Jihoon could lie down without puking all over the two of them.

ILMTILMC Part VI

Masterlist links: Fairy's Full Masterlist Fairy's Masterlist - SEVENTEEN

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Farmer's Daughter 8

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You finally manage to quell your sobs. A slight trickle stains your cheeks and falls onto Walter’s shirt. You sniffle and reach to wipe your nose with the back of your hand. As you do, your fingers brush against his chest. 

You hear his heartbeat, steady as you’re anything but. He’s warm and soft and sturdy. You feel a sudden rush of guilt for spilling all this out on him. You slowly sit up, pulling away as Walter gently, almost reluctantly, slackens his embrace. 

“I’m sorry, I–” you raise your head but find your words smothered.

You don’t realise what’s going on at first. Walter’s hand cradles your face as his lips press to yours, tilting your chin up as his thumb slides under it. You hum in surprise, eyes round as the scent of his sweat invades your nose.

You put your hand flat to his chest and push. You bring your other up and shove until he lets you go. His arm falls away and you turn, shifting and sliding off the step. You stand, dizzy and confused, clutching your splitting head.

“I… I’m sorry,” he stammers as he rises too.

You run past him up the steps, legs wobbling, skull pulsing from the hangover of your grief. You push the door inwards and clamour inside. You don’t stop. You barrel upstairs and down to your door, swinging inside with a careless snap of wood on wood.

You lean on the door and slowly slide down, knees bent to your chest as you hang your head forward and shield it with your arms. You hear shuffling and a set of hinges groan. Footsteps pad quietly outside your door.

“Honey, are you okay?” Your mom calls through.

“Yes,” you force out evenly, the effort further thumping in your temples.

“Oh, uh, I’ll be downstairs,” she says, her voice silty with sleep, “you in the mood for coffee?”

“No thank you,” you eke out.

You wait until she’s gone before you can breathe again. It can’t be real. That can’t have happened. You really didn’t believe it when your mother said it. Walter? Why would he ever think of you like that? And now? Of all times?

Your father is sick, your mother is in shambles, and life is already so complicated. It isn’t that he’s a bad guy, he’s nice and helpful and all of that. It’s just that you’re already scared and lost. It would only make things so much more complicated.

🌾

You stay in your room for the rest of the night. When your mother comes to check on you, you tell her you have cramps. Your period isn’t due anytime soon but PMS can be a bitch. Just as much as life can.

She leaves a plate on your nightstand regardless and you thank her. You’re not very hungry and only pick at it before giving up on the meal. You wallow in your restless discomfort. Your head pounds until you’re nearly delirious.

You fall into a sleep less than refreshing. Your headache follows you into the void and its shadow greets you with the daylight. You wake and roll over, unready for the day but knowing you must face it. You wash and dress and head down to pretend everything is okay. Again.

You start on breakfast as your mom has yet to appear. You don’t mind, it keeps you busy. You count out the eggs and strips of bacon, a few sausages too. You stack a plate with bread ready to toast and yawn over the percolator as you put it on to boil.

You hear tires and an engine. You go rigid, frozen as you stand at the counter. What do you do? Go get your mother? Help her with dad? Or Timothy? He can keep Walter distracted.

Too late. There’s footsteps on the porch then a tap on the frame of the screen door. You panic and clear your throat. Nothing happened. Nothing’s changed.

“Come on in,” you call and pull out a skillet to heat up.

The front door opens and your ears tweak as you listen to his movement. Deliberate and drawn out, as if he’s also avoiding you. You keep your back to the door as you work at the stove, adding a touch of oil to the pan.

He enters, his shadow flickering over the wall, and you sense him. Is he watching you? You refuse to look back and check in fear of being caught. You grab the sausage and the bacon and lay them out on an oven sheet.

“Good morning,” Walter says.

“Good morning,” you return in a small squeak.

He’s silent. Neither of you know what to say. Each time you try to think of something, the friction of your lips remind you of the feel of his. You hadn’t been thinking in the moment but you remember how soft but determined he was.

Why would he do that? After you were just bawling on his shoulder? Seeing you like that, a mess, vulnerable, half-broken? Your stomach knots as you keep your hands moving and eyes averted.

“How are you?” He asks in a strained timbre.

“Fine,” you answer sharply, taking a breath to ease your tone, “you?”

“Tired,” he says, “you need any help?”

He steps forward and you shy away. You stop yourself from going any further and shake your head, “I got it.”

“Right, I…” he begins.

“Alright, Patty,” your mom’s voice wafts from upstairs, “that’s it. You’re doing so well.”

“Oh, I gotta–”

You turn with the spatula and nearly run into Walter as he also moves towards the door. You stop as you face each other, wavering as you stare. His jaw squares and his cheek twitches, his eyes sparkling.

“You’re cooking. I’ll help.”

“Really, you do too much–”

“I know,” he agrees staunchly and turns away, “too damn much.”

He strides out and you stand there. What does he mean? Too much of what? Well, you can’t ask from him. He has helped more than he should, but is that what he means? Or does he mean… that? 

He wouldn’t just walk away because of that, would he?

[fangirleaconmigo]

So I’ve been a bit absent. Putting a ‘read more’ because shit in my life has gotten very real very quickly.

One of my younger sisters went to urgent care with stomach discomfort last Tuesday. It turned out that she had a huge mass in her pelvis, (18x25 cm) and our lives were plunged into a black hole of fear.

In the past week/weekend, she’s gotten blood tests and referrals for more scans. Every test result is more ominous and terrifying than the last. It is definitely ovarian cancer and she will need a major surgery and we don’t know what else.

In one day, I moved her completely into my house. She gave notice on hers. We are trying to find foster care for her cats while she is in treatment because she can’t care for them during, and neither can I.

We still haven’t had a proper prognosis and treatment plan. That will be today, I hope. I am about to drive her to her first actual appointment with a real oncologist.

It’s early and I’m lying awake in my bed. I haven’t slept much in the past weeks. I go to sleep googling ovarian cancer, and I wake up and google ovarian cancer, and I feel like an entire house is crushing me. I can barely breathe. I have to go fetal position for a few minutes sometimes during the day to get through it.

We need some hope today. We need some good news. We need, at the very minimum, a plan for her care. Something to focus on.

Please keep us in your thoughts and send us some love and good will. She is either in shock or being very brave but she could get hopeful, or devastating news today (or more terrifying limbo) and I don’t know where that will leave us.

I won’t try to tell you how much my sister means to me. But I will say that we grew up together in an isolated family with shitty, monstrous, abusive parents and it fused us together in profound ways. I raised her to the extent that a child can raise another child. (It’s like that John Mulaney joke where he said his babysitter was so young, it was like a horse caring for a dog lol)

We are both super sci-fi fantasy nerds. I watch tv with her probably three to four nights a week, and we can talk for LITERAL HOURS about the intricacies of the writing and the characters on the various franchises. We usually agree, but we probably woke the neighbors with our argument about who the best Doctor Who companion was.

We work at the same hospital and share an office one day a week, and the people in the hall probably hear our elaborate Star Wars or MCU theories.

I know better than to get her started about certain things, but no matter what I do, every Thanksgiving she gives an entire speech about how the LOTR movie adaptations failed Gimli, son of Gloin.

We’ve been to Supernatural cons (we’ve both written SPN fic), and SDCC together many times. Actually, we went to ECCC together this year, so @spacecores and @roguepyrola met her and can attest to the fact that she is a mouthy, down to earth, absolutely brilliant, funny, foul mouthed, nerdy ass bitch.

I NEED HER, ok, I FUCKIN NEED HER.

So if you meditate, pray, send intentions, I don’t care what it is, I need it today. Her appointment is in about three hours and we need some hope.

Thanks for reading, friends. ♥️ I know this isn’t fandom related but we’re all real life human beings here with real lives, and that’s what is happening in mine.