#i'm still sick but seeing these made me feel better :')))

[dorabellingham]

Overprotect

warning: none

characters: jude x mom!reader

summary: when you are in the last months of pregnancy and he is being super protective and worried about everything

may contain spelling and translation errors!

You sighed heavily, sinking on the sofa in the living room with an exhausted expression. The eighth month of pregnancy was being cruel - your back hurt all the time, the heat seemed unbearable and finding a comfortable sleeping position was practically impossible. To make matters worse, Jude was more overprotective than ever.

-Darling, do you need anything? His voice echoed from the kitchen, worried as always.

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to convince yourself that answering "no" would be enough for him to stop treating you as if you were made of glass. But the truth was that you really needed something.

—Water, please.

You asked, defeated.

In less than a minute, Jude was already at the room with a glass in his hand.

-Here, babe.

He said, handing over the glass and sitting next to him on the couch.

You took a sip and sighed, feeling a little relief in your dry throat. Jude, on the other hand, didn't seem satisfied.

-Are you sure you're okay? Do you want me to do a massage? Or maybe a hot shower? Or...

-Jude. -You raised a hand, interrupting the flood of suggestions. -I'm pregnant, not sick.

He sighed, clearly trying to control himself.

-I know. But it's just that... I hate to see you uncomfortable and not being able to do anything.

You looked at him, your expression softening.

-You already do a lot, babe. You take care of me more than I could ask for.

He smiled small, but still looked restless. Then, without warning, he got up and took a cushion, fixing it behind your back.

-Better?

You laughed, shaking your head.

-Yes, better.

He didn't stop there. He took another cushion and put it on her lap, helping you to better accommodate your belly.

-And now?

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face gave that you were loving his care.

-Now it's perfect, Mr. Bellingham.

Jude settled on the couch, passing an arm around your shoulders and letting the other hand rest on your belly.

-You're already almost nine months... -He murmured, sliding his fingers lightly over the skin of your belly. -There's so little time for our baby to arrive.

You felt your heart tighten when you saw the sparkle in his eyes. Jude was so excited to be a father, so ready. He talked about the baby every day, touched your belly as if it were your greatest treasure and looked at you with a mixture of love and gratitude that made you feel like the most special person in the world.

-Are you ready to be a father?

You asked softly.

He looked at you, surprised by the question.

-I don't think I'll ever feel ready, you know? But I want to. I want more than anything else.

Your gaze softened, and you ran your fingers through his jaw, feeling the thin beard that began to grow there.

-You're going to be an amazing father, Jude.

He smiled, lightly squeezing you waist.

-And you're going to be the best mother in the world, darling.

You opened your mouth to answer, but a hook on your back made you shrink.

-Oh...

Jude was on alert at the same time.

-What was it, Y/n?! Are you feeling something?!

You let out a frustrated moan.

-My back. They're killing me.

He didn't waste time.

-Come here. Sit on your side.

—Jude...

-C'mon, babe, sit here!

He insisted softly, already getting ready on the couch so that you could settle down there.

You, knowing that arguing would be useless, straightened up on your side, feeling his warm and firm hand begin to massage your back firmly, but without hurting you.

-Better now?

He asked, while his fingers worked to relieve the tension.

You closed your eyes, relaxing against his touch.

-Very much.

Jude smiled satisfied, continuing the movements while watching his wife surrender to relief.

-Do you have any idea how much I love you?

He murmured against your ear.

You smiled, your eyes still closed.

-I Have. And I have no idea how much you spoil me.

He laughed, gently kissing the back of your neck.

-I'll always pamper you. You and our baby.

You sighed, feeling safe in his arms. The eighth month of pregnancy could be difficult, but with Jude by your side, everything seemed a little easier.

[mymakuu]

Chapter 4!

(I think this one’s mostly filler because my school work was crushing me this week, im sorry, also a huge portion of the italic and bold words were lost in this chapter as well as the others)

“we can talk about this over breakfast! Your new cyborg parts should still be adjusting to swallowing, but they have foods you can eat, by now you should be able to swallow smaller solids.”

this wasn’t exciting to Raiden. Being humiliated was enough, walking around Desperado with Sam’s hand on his back had made him lose his appetite. Monsoon and another employee walked by.

“you two look like a cute couple!”

Monsoon’s joke made Sam take his hand off Raiden’s back.

“I'm just making sure he doesn’t run away”

“if he does we can disable his legs”

Raiden’s eye shot open

“You can what now?”

“You’re still an enemy to us Jack, we had to make sure we couldn’t do anything extreme.”

Raiden had NEVER hated Monsoon more in his life, he started to shake again. Sam reached out to put his hand on his shoulder but Raiden punched him right in the jaw. When Sam stumbled back Raiden tried to go after him again, but Monsoon grabbed Raiden and the employee with him grabbed Sam and helped him stand up. Before Raiden knew it his entire cybernetic body had gone limp.

“(lords name in vain, and the d word) RAIDEN! WHAT THE (h word) IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

Raiden couldn’t reply to Monsoon; his bottom jaw was part of his cybernetics so it was disabled too. The employee who was with Monsoon was now wiping blood off Sam’s nose, it looked bruised. Monsoon got right into Raiden’s ear before speaking.

“You're an employee here now. If you don’t want to be treated like trash you don’t ACT like trash. If you're so scared of being disabled then stay in line. I won't hesitate to toss your useless (a word) into scrap metal, got it?”

Monsoon dropped Raiden and let him slump down on the floor like a discarded doll. It was probably better not to push Monsoon’s buttons, and with that came Sam’s buttons, Khamsin’s buttons, Sundowner’s and Mistral’s, and EVERY other useless cyborg soldiers’ buttons. Any step out of line and Monsoon would probably tell everyone in California his secret. Raiden was finally able to stand up, but with that came feeling pain again, a pulsing electric shock throughout his entire body was the most present. He weakly stood up, Monsoon grabbed his hair and yanked him up like a scruffed puppy. Monsoon then turned to Sam who was still rubbing his nose and asking the employee if it was, “really that bad” and if the bleeding had stopped.

“Sam if he puts ANYTHING out of line you tell me. We could use some more scrap metal anyways.”

Monsoon then said something to his employee in another language and they both walked away. Sam finally stopped rubbing his nose and looked at Raiden, he looked mad.

“I expect better out of you. I spared your life time after time and all you do punish me.”

Raiden opened his mouth but Sam shushed him.

“I won't scrap you on your next mistake, but I won't hesitate to cut your other arm off either. We’re not enemies anymore.”

Sam pushed Raiden a little, suggesting that they should get walking again.

“if you falter that easily at a simple comment then I’d hate to see how you handle a real fight. We don’t use VR on our grown soldiers here, but then again you're not acting very grown”

Raiden stayed quiet, Sam and Monsoon had a point. It was a point he was fond of but it was true.

“Stand straight. We’re going straight to training.”

Raiden pulled his head up, he still felt a little woozy from having his body parts disabled, the pulsing shock hadn’t left either. He felt too sick to eat but too hungry to train, and Sam wasn’t going to go easy on him now that he’d punched him. The training room wasn’t too far, it was the same one where Raiden had cut that punching bag, the memory set back in again, the room got dark and Raiden felt weak, Sam looked over and noticed.

“what’s wrong?”

Sam said something after this, but Raiden couldn’t understand. Raiden’s vision suddenly blurred and before he knew it he was in Med Bay again, this time he was sitting up in a chair with 3 IVs in his arm.

“What happened there?”

Sam was trying to hide his panic, but he wasn’t that good at it. Sam put his hand on Raiden’s shoulder and looked into his eye. the sun was hitting Sam's eyes so perfectly, that they went some vicious to a soft caring deep brown. Raiden couldn’t help but look into them, it was like indulging on something sweet. Raiden just stared into them for a while, until he felt his face get hot.

“you passed out. What happened?”

monsoon was there too, his employee wasn’t, and sundowner.

“Raiden, what happened?”

Sam took his hand off Raiden’s shoulder.

“I'm sorry… I must have pushed you //too far//”

Monsoon began to talk over him

“Are you even a soldier? You pass out after just stepping into the training grounds? maybe //we should just toss you-//”

Sundowner started to talk over him.

“was it because of your prior training?”

After Sundowner said that everyone started to talk over each other, it all got very confusing, and loud. Raiden’s pupil darted between the three of them until he locked his eye with Sam again. He looked into Sam’s brown eyes and imaged them as Rose’s. her loving, deep, brown eyes. He couldn’t believe he was dead to her, to the whole world. This was really his new life now. He snapped back to reality, looking into Sam’s eyes, just then he heard Sundowner's voice say something abhorrent.

“you're lookin’ into his eyes an awful lot Jacklyn”

Suddenly the room felt frozen. Monsoon looked at Sundowner, Sam and Raiden looked away from each other, everyone looked shocked or confused. Monsoon faked an awkward smile before speaking, his accent suddenly slightly thicker than normal.

“Sundowner let’s not use nicknames yet.”

“right.”

Sam still looked embarrassed.

“you can probably stand up now Raiden.”

Raiden stood up, and wobbled a bit but managed to keep his balance, Sam reached out to catch him but a judgmental look from Sundowner made him pull away.

“he can stan don his own.”

Sam nodded and stood back. Raiden stood up straight and looked up at Sam as Monsoon grabbed his arm and pulled the IVs out.

“Are you even qualified to be doing this?”

Monsoon ignored him and kept wiping his arm off with rubbing alcohol, then he wrapped some bandages on it.

“We should probably go back to training now…”

Sam was trying to avoid eye contact, but he finally looked up at Raiden’s face, not his eye.

“We don’t have to do it in the training room. We can practice out- “

“not a chance”

Monsoon interrupted Sam.

“Raiden isn’t leaving the facility unless he’s in chains.”

Raiden glanced at Monsoon, he was serious. The thought of training outside and running away hadn’t occurred to him yet, knowing Desperado they probably had beds of land mines and walls of barbed wire outside, maybe they'd only be child-sized to keep their hostages from escaping.

“He’s not going to run away. We can disable his whole body remember?”

Monsoon nodded and then looked at Raiden.

“Fine. Train him outside. Just keep him away from the Rose bushes”

Monsoon smiled after saying this, for being the leader he was just as immature as a middle school boy, it was a wonder he was married out of any cyborg here. Monsoon saying this also meant he had probably gone through Raiden’s medical records after he was taken in, which made Raiden hate him even more.

“Alright. Come on Raiden, I’ll show you the outdoor training grounds, it's much cleaner than the indoor ones!”

Sam put his hand on Raiden’s back and started to walk with him again, he seemed more excited, whether it was to train outside or because he was getting away from his bosses was up for debate. Raiden still felt a little sickly from his Med Bay trip, Sam kept pushing him until they got to an elevator. It smelled like vanilla, and the lack of music made the place feel desolate. Sam finally took his hand off Raiden’s back, they just stood beside each other a little awkwardly and waited for the doors to open again. The elevator ride was a little long, or maybe it felt longer because Sam was there, or it was the IV wearing off. Eventually, they got to the roof of the World Marshal building, it was a helicopter landing but there were no helicopters there, just a plain empty area.

“We can duel up here, just you and me Blondie.”

Out of all the nicknames, this was the best. Sam put his hand on his sword holster, Raiden realized he still didn’t have his half-blade, and Desperado cyborgs had a much sleeker design compared to Maverick Security cyborgs.

“your sword is gone. But you can use this one”

Sam handed him a wooden training sword, it seemed so unfair that Sam got a real katana while Raiden was stuck with a training sword, it was too small anyway.

“don’t worry”

Sam pushed on the trigger of his sheath, and a wooden sword popped out too.

“can’t have you losing that arm again, cost us a fortune to repair it.”

Raiden looked down at his arm, and then back at Sam, who was now smirking at him.

“oh, by the way, I have a surprise for you.”

Same walked over to him, getting right face to face with him. Then he reached up and pulled up the bandages around his eye.

“I don’t know if you noticed. But we fixed your eye too. And it doesn’t look like Monsoon’s snail eyes, don’t worry.”

“Snail eyes?”

“you’ll see later, let's get back on track.”

Raiden was now looking into both of Sam’s eyes. The color reminded him of a jaguar's eyes, and he only just now noticed that one of them was lazy. He reached up and touched his eye, feeling it over a couple of times and messing with his eyelid until Sam spoke again.

“I thought you'd realize after the first day. I guess you don’t use your mirror often”

Raiden hadn’t really looked at himself in the mirror in a while. It got harder and harder the more cybernetics he got or the more missions he was sent on. After “joining” Desperado it got near impossible to even think of that. Sam finally stepped back and drew his wooden sword.

“Focus Blondie. I want tough soldiers here.”

Raiden wasn’t used to having depth perception, it felt so odd, he had gotten used to only having one eye that it was odd to have 2. He drew his wooden sword and ran towards Sam. Sam instantly undertook his blade and twisted Raiden around so he fell over like a puppy.

“that’s your first mistake, you charge in expecting to chop away at your enemies, but you don’t put too much thought into it.”

Sam Pulled Raiden up and hit his legs lightly. Raiden stood up straight and tried to attack Sam again, but Sam deflected all his attacks.

“you’re self-taught, right?”

“you already know that”

“I'm pretty sure our child-brains could see that. You're sloppy.”

Raiden Stayed quiet. Sam had been trained on the blade since he was a child, and it had been passed in his family for generations, maybe it was time to shut up and listen.

“And that “tool of justice” thing? You need to drop that. Your sword is a weapon, and weapons are used for acts of violence.”

“That's not true- “

“Did blood not spill when you fought for justice?”

Raiden stayed quiet and thought for a bit. There hadn’t been a time when his “justice” didn’t involve the loss of a life.

“But- but those didn’t matter. They were raising child soldiers.”

“what makes a life matter to you Blondie”

Raiden opened his mouth but no words came out, he just paused for a while, thinking…

“what you do with it. Does a life matter if it's only used for killing the weak and innocent?”

“mmm… you make a good point Blondie. But remember what Monsoon taught you.”

Raiden didn’t want to think anymore, about anything, he was up here to duel Sam, not think about morals and life. Besides, being in desperado meant he didn’t need those morals anyway.

“Can we just get to fighting”

“You're fighting with your own mind; how can you fight me?”

“that’s beside the point”

Raiden slammed his wooden sword into Sam’s side and then bonked his head with it.

“you let your guard down.”

Sam stood up.

“Oh, so we're playing that game?”

Sam came towards Raiden and hit his armpit hard, then swung his sword around and nearly hit his eye.

“memories flooding back eh pretty boy?”

Raiden brought up his sword and attacked Sam’s center, then he repeatedly slashed at Sam’s torso and legs. Eventually, Sam deflected his attacks and grabbed his sword in between his palms, his grip was surprisingly strong, and it took a lot for Raiden to pull his sword out of Sam’s grip. Sam started his attacks, they were hard and nearly impossible to dodge or parry. Eventually, Raiden stumbled back and Sam grabbed his head and lifted him by it, he threw Raiden down, and just then realized his mistake. Raiden groaned in pain, and Sam lifted him by his hands.

“Raiden! Are you ok?!”

Raiden used Sam’s kindness to his advantage, and he yanked Sam down to the ground and pushed his sword to his throat.

“You're too cocky.”

Sam pushed Raiden off of himself easily and then brushed himself off as if he had just come in contact with something dirty.

“And you care too much.”

“I’m your mentor. Should I not care?”

Something about Sam being his mentor still brought that empty dry feeling to his stomach. He didn’t see Sam as anything more than a smudge on his visor. Before they could continue their duel, Sundowner came up from the elevator.

“you trainin’ him up here?”

“you said outside.”

“I thought you meant in one of the gardens!”

“he would destroy our gardens.”

“well go train elsewhere. Some of us have work to do.”

Sam took Raiden’s wooden sword off of him, and they started to walk to the elevator. Sundowner finally stepped out and let them in, Sam pushed the button to the bottom floor, it would be a looong ride down from there.

The ride down was mostly quiet until the door opened on the 15th floor and someone else got on, it was the employee that was with Monsoon earlier.

“Hi Sam”

“Ola.”

Sam nudged Raiden and got in his ear to whisper, “That’s Monsoon's wife”, Raiden looked at her and whispered back, “She’s short”, before continuing their elevator ride in silence. Eventually, she got off, and some other employees who all said hi to Sam and gave Raiden dirty looks got on and off, Khamsin even got on at one point, but he got off shortly after. The elevator stopped at the first floor and Sam guided Raiden to get off.

“I'm not allowed to give you a full tour of the base yet. But we can find a new place to train for now.”

Sam took Raiden’s hand to guide him but quickly let go when he saw Monsoon walk past. Monsoon looked at them, it was hard to tell what kind of look it was, but if it was Monsoon, it usually wasn’t a good look, but he kept walking.

“do you guys do anything, or do you just walk around?”

“Some of us stand around.”

Raiden gave him the blankest expression he could, and it was easy to do so since that joke was worse than being nicknamed “Jetstream”. Sam chuckled at his joke and felt no shame for doing it alone, eventually he stopped and looked at Raiden again.

“come on pretty boy. I know a place.”

My first ever fanfic!

Criticism is appreciated 

Raiden joins desperado AU

Raiden gripped the concrete as hard as he could. Shaking in pain as his blood spilled out of his chest. He reached for his weapon in a final attempt to endure it, but it was quickly kicked away.

“Are you finally done?”

Monsoon said while stepping closer, his metal feet against the concrete caused Raiden’s heart to beat faster, so fast that it was all he could hear.

“what can you even do now? Stand up. Show me a man.”

He felt Monsoon’s Sai hit his chin, not a light tapping but a slam.

Instead of giving up in that moment, Raiden forced himself to stand up. His vision was incredibly blurry, it was impossible to see Monsoon’s kick to the legs until he slammed his head on the concrete. The last thing he heard was the ringing, a loud ringing that faded into a beating, almost like a heartbeat.

Most of Raiden’s memories had completely faded like sand in the wind. But the heartbeat brought something back... something sweet, and comforting. The heartbeat no longer sounded like his own, but his mother’s.

It brought back memories of his mom rubbing his forehead back when he was very young, it was soothing… Raiden had completely forgotten about his failed battle until the ringing came back. When the ringing came back the feeling of a hand on his forehead didn’t go away, in fact, the hand felt warmer and larger than a mother’s hand. Quickly Raiden shot his eye open and saw his enemy, Jetstream Sam, rubbing his forehead. Raiden started to struggle against it but he couldn’t move, making Sam laugh.

“Nice try pretty boy”

he finally took his hand off his head

“those EMP shots we gave you won't fade for HOURS”

“WHERE AM I?”

Raiden couldn’t hide the panic in his voice, that tough cyborg façade was about to be washed away, which Sam found amusing because he laughed again.

“you’re at desperado! Do you really think we’d let a valuable asset like you die on the dirty floor? You’re trash, but-”

“shut up Sam. I’m not here for small talk obviously…”

“well, you’re here for a reason pretty boy...”

“are you going to tell me?”

“am I?”

Sam was toying with him, clear as day. Raiden scowled and decided it was best not to entertain a clown, so he just shut his mouth. Disappointingly Sam wouldn’t mimic this action.

“Have you seen your new parts yet?”

Raiden looked down, he did have new parts, red and black with the Desperado logo on his right thigh.

“what the (f word) is this?”

“your new look pretty boy”

“stop calling me that”

“you don’t like it? The logo I mean.”

The armor was beyond beauty. There wasn’t a word strong enough to describe how pretty it was. Maybe it was just the look of fresh armor, or perhaps it was the scarlet accents. It wasn’t that big ugly logo that’s for sure.

“no”

“ah you’re lying pr- “

Raiden quickly cut him off before he could spit out that nickname.

“what happened? Why is your logo on My leg?

“Well, I was getting there if you'd stopped being so catty.”

Raiden finally shut up and started waiting for Sam’s explanation. Sam put his hand to his chin and gave Raiden one of his snarky smiles. Suddenly being dead on the concrete sounded better than this. Sam was taking way too long to speak at this point, so a headache started to form in Raiden’s forehead. Raiden pushed his head back on his pillow and groaned.

“well since you want to know so bad…”

Sam chuckled again

“you put up quite a fight, we couldn’t let a pretty thing like you go to waste. So instead of shooting you dead then and there, we dragged you into the building and took you to the med bay.”

Sam put his hand on Raiden’s new logo.

“they gave you some new parts, monsoon tore yours up pretty bad. We decided that desperado could use someone like you…”

Raiden opened his eye, Sam's eyelids were hung a little. Not in a tired way, but in a relaxed way, it was unnerving.

“so. I'll give you 2 options… you either join Desperado, as one of our cyborgs, or we use you for scrap metal. It's up to you pretty boy”

Sam's hand was still on the Desperado logo. Sam finally took his hand off and then put it back on Raiden’s forehead, which seemed to soothe his headache a bit. This choice wasn’t hard at all, ANYONE with a moral backbone would rather die before joining a company like DESPERADO! Maybe even people without a moral backbone. Raiden was about to say his answer, but the sliding doors opened before his mouth could. He couldn’t tell who walked in by footsteps alone, they were more clicky than sundowners, but too snippy to be monsoon, and not squeaky enough to be Khamsin’s, which meant it had to be…

“Ola Mistral, come to visit Raidey?”

Raiden felt his body tense up at that awful nickname, his stomach even churned every time it echoed in his ears. Sam could tell it was making Raiden sick, so he slid a metal bucket over beside the bed with his foot.

“visit?” mistrals voice was smooth like a cup of Assam tea. But to Raiden, it sounded as smooth as the noise the bucket made on the floor. “I wouldn't say visit. I'm here to see if he weighed his options”

“He was just on that.”

“Sundowner wants an answer by tonight, any later and we’ll scrap him.”

“We can wait a bit, he already acts like scrap metal.”

“Very funny Sam, but its Sundowner’s word is what we follow. And don’t run from the heard unless you want to be mutton”

Sam was quiet for a bit, in the desperado hierarchy, Sam was at the bottom, he was new to desperado and it showed.

“talk to him, Sam. I want the word by tonight. Monsoons on call today if you need him.”

“yes, ma’am. I'm on it, ma’am”

Mistral’s heels clicked on the metal floors as she walked out of the room. It wasn’t until the sliding doors closed that Sam started talking.

“Please Raiden, just join”

“and why should I? you bunch are just a bunch of moralless terrorists. I’d rather d- “

“No, you wouldn’t. come on Raiden, just join, it's better than what's coming if you don’t”

“why would I listen to you”

Raiden attempted to spit at Sam’s face to keep him away, but Sam just put his hand over his mouth.

“I’m not taking no anymore. You're joining. Welcome to Desperado Raiden.”

Raiden felt an indescribable emotion. Anger? Sadness? Something entirely different? Whatever it was it made him throw up. Sam helped him do it in the bucket while holding his hair back too. Raiden didn’t take this as a kind gesture, after being forced to join an organization a bundle of flowers would feel like a bullet to the brain.

I'm sorry Raiden.’

Sam put his hand on an IV bag full of something blue, turning up the dial a bit. Raiden felt his head getting light and airy, and he started to wobble, before he knew it, he was out cold.

When Raiden finally opened his eyes it was dark out, the room would be pitch black if not for the medical equipment’s glow. He heard what sounded like porcelain cups clicking on each other, and heels on the ground. He noticed that one of the lights in the room was moving, it was a faint red glow. he didn’t put much thought into it, realizing that the EMP shots had finally worn off and he could move now was much more interesting. Raiden sat up and was suddenly making “eye” contact with Monsoon. The man who put him in this situation. Neither of them said anything, it was just an awkward silence for a minute or so before Monsoon set his tray down.

“You're up early.”

Raiden didn’t respond.

“I brought you some green tea”

Raiden still didn’t respond. Anything coming out of his mouth would be out of irrational anger now. He could feel his arms shaking in anger at this point. All he wanted to do was dump that hot tea on Monsoon’s face and smash the cups on his teeth.

“calm down Jack.”

Raiden stayed quiet, being called Jack wasn’t helping him calm down. He raised his arm to grab a cup but his headache had gotten worse, and it had spread to the rest of his mind by now. Monsoon picked up a cup and moved to the side of his bed, putting the cup to Raiden’s lips and making him drink it.

“don’t spit it out. It’ll help that headache of yours.”

Raiden kept it in his mouth without swallowing, the chance of a Desperado member poisoning him had gotten lower, but not low enough for him to swallow.

Monsoon set the cup down and got off the bed. He walked to the other side of the room to grab supplies from a cabinet.

“I knew your secret, Jack.”

Monsoon saying that suddenly made him swallow, he choked a bit but got over it fast. Whatever secret it was didn’t matter. If Monsoon knows it's over for him.

“you couldn’t ‘show me a man’ because you're not one.”

[djsangos]

//went to the dr and all they did was take my fucking blood... again

[pyrriax]

ANYWHO goodnight tumblr i'll be back on the art grind tomorrow i think 🙏

[nerdnag]

I hope everyone who reads this is having a better day than I am 🙏

[4thbrighteststar]

I wish I could listen to in between gracie abrams but it makes me genuinely actually sick to my stomach nauseous

[yandere-romanticaa]

Seen the request, so I shall deliver. Could you pls write a drabble or hcs of a yandere sunday with an isekaied reader?

Good timing because I'm actually planning a non yan isekai fic for him, I wonder if you saw that post. Here it is in case you haven't.

Sincerest apologies if this isn't the best, this fic is 100% emotionally charged by my obsession with him and frankly with a little bit of a high for passing a tricky exam. This is a treat for myself.

EDIT: Please check out this wonderful comic that @danijaci made me based off this fic!! 😭🫶

Picking up the cup from the fine oak table, you gazed towards the eerie galaxy before you, hundreds upon thousands of stars giving you a constant reminder of just how far from home you truly were. Taking a sip from the little porcelain cup you could not help but to hum in delight, the soft notes of the tea soothing your nerves ever so lightly as you pretended to ignore the heavy gaze which lingered at the back of your head.

Even from this distance, it was easy to tell that Sunday was eager to approach you. Still, he kept his distance and made a silent offering in the form of the very tea you drank at the moment.

Anything is better than Himeko's coffee but you were never going privy her to that.

In a not so distant past, all of this was nothing but fiction. The Express, the story, the characters - it was all nothing more but fiction, something to pass the time as your days went on and on, the same monotony repeating each and every day.

It was hard to not think about your friends and family, what sane person would not? Lord knows how they must be feeling right now, worried sick out of their minds with indescribable sorrow. In their eyes you had merely vanished, not a single trace to be found. For all they knew you could have been left for dead in a ditch somewhere, beaten, bloodied and broken, never to see the light again or if they were even more inclined to be morbid, you had succumbed to a fate worse than death. Death at the very least grants you finality, that all is over regardless of what happened moments prior.

But that was simply not the case for you.

Here you were, lounging about in a comfortable chair as you pondered on your old life while enjoying tiny little luxuries, far away where none of your loved ones could reach you. However, life was funny sometimes because it had some fun games in store.

Sunday was very kind upon arrival. He made sure to always be there for you, always checking up on you, always there to keep you company. You were already smitten with him but now to actually witness him in the flesh was just... Indescribable. You got along like a house on fire, so much so that the crew liked to tease that you ought to just get a room. Sunday, ever the gentleman, would just brush their words aside and assure you to not take their playful little jabs to heart.

You wouldn't say anything, resorting to merely giving him a smile but not because of what he said but rather of what he did not - never once did he actually shut down those perverse accusations. Never, not even once did he deny them.

He became an emotional crutch, someone to whom you would come running to when things got tough and he would always welcome you with open arms. Sunday would hold you tenderly, his serene voice dripping with honey along with a tender drop of ecstasy, for his excitement with holding you would just show itself sometimes. His grip would be too tight at certain moments, never quite ready to let you leave. His hugs were warm and comforting, he always smelled so good too. He smelled like kindness and sweet wildflowers, always lulling you back to him no matter the time. In dark corners and perhaps even under the watchful eyes of the crew, Sunday would wrap his scarf around your head, securing the soft fabric in order to provide you with a sense of comfort.

It was humiliating just how much you would try to inhale his scent as much as possible. You wanted it etched deep inside your memory, you wished for it to linger on your very soul and for it to follow you everywhere you went, sticking to your being like tar. The fabric of the scarf would muffle your ears a little but someone was always chatting in the background. Be it March bickering with Dan Heng, Mr Yang scolding someone for doing something they were not supposed to, or just Conductor Pom Pom trying to give a speech, all of it was irrelevant.

You were ready to kill whoever would try to pry you away from sweet Sunday. That thought came often which had left you worried - just what kind of person had you become? Regardless, you kept your mouth shut and had no plans of sharing such violent sentiments with anyone, particularly not to the one you held so dear.

When it was time to part for the evening you would bid the crew farewell and wished them a good night. You always made sure to take a few extra seconds with Sunday, just to ease your aching soul. He would tell you to sleep well and would see you in the morning, ready to take on any endeavor that crossed your paths.

As everyone parted ways, Sunday would wander off somewhere dark and distant, somewhere no one could see nor hear him. He would fall to his knees and clutch his chest in agony, fat tears streaming down his face as he did everything he possibly could to steady his raging heart. In a rush he would reach for the scarf which clung around his neck, his grip tighter than iron as he would bring it close to his nose. Taking a large, deep breath, Sunday was greeted by your familiar scent which would promptly calm his poor heart.

He sometimes wondered if his heart would start bleeding from the pain due to the sheer intensity of his emotions.

This was wrong, everything about this was not right and it hurt. Sunday was obviously ill but he had no clue on how to fight this... This emotion, this white hot feeling of need whenever you stood by his side. He started to choke on the air around him and fell into an abrupt coughing fit but even then, he could bring himself to remove the scarf from the lower part of his face.

Sunday wept and sobbed, filthy snot coming out from his nose but he could not handle that now. He needed you, Oh Heavenly Aeons, how he needed you. However was he going to tell you how he felt? How, oh how was he going to express the sheer magnitude of his true thoughts? He would scare you off, he was sure of it.

Even with this pain, even with these clipped wings and bleeding heart, Sunday had never felt so alive, so harrowingly present in the moment whenever he was with you.

Perhaps, he was doing himself a kindness by just letting you be. Drink your tea, be at peace.

He can always just make you another cup if you so desired.

Without knowing, you both haunted each other in the most agonizing way known to mankind and neither was strong enough to face the reality of the situation.

[neverendingford]

.

[bi-writes]

how would simon react if his mail order bride got really really sick?

mail-order bride

the phone is ringing.

he's on leave, so normally he would never even touch the thing. but there are only two ringtones he has to answer to, and this one isn't price.

he picks it up, putting it to his ear. he wipes the sweat off his brow, letting out a sigh as he steps back under the shade. the sun is out today, of course choosing to beat down on him the one day he finally decided to build you better planters for your little garden.

you've taken to it quite nicely. you love being out here, tending to the little roots and the tiny leaves that have started to sprout. he thinks you look so cute when you're out here, on your knees. you always tie a scarf around your hair and wear these sage green gloves, and he thinks you look so fucking adorable when you come back inside with dirt along your brow and a sweet little smile on your face. you always give him an update. the carrots are so stubborn, you huff, and he tries to hide his grin as you bring out your little gardening journal and scribble in it all frustrated. look, simon! the tomatoes! look! look!--and he practically keens when you grab his hand to bring him outside so he can see.

but it's gotten too small. you've outgrown the little boxes of dirt, and simon knows you're itching to do more. the planter is only half done, so he's a little peeved to be interrupted while he's just starting to get it together.

"wot is it, luv, i'm--"

"s-simon?" your voice is a soft whimper, and you're sniffling on the other line. simon stands up straighter, dropping his tools immediately as he wipes his hands on his jeans and starts to go inside.

"oi. wot happened?"

"s-simon, i-i don't feel so good, c-could you come get me?"

simon lets out a low breath, shaking his head.

"fuckin' hell, luv," he mutters, grabbing his keys and wallet by the door. "still at the library?" you had asked him to drop you off in town, wanting to visit a few of the shops along the main road. your eyes had bugged when you saw the quaint little library and pastry shop, and he agreed to come back later after your little excursion.

"y-yeah, i-i..." you cough a little. "i-i got...i got sick. in the bathroom, i-i--"

"'s olright," he quiets you. "'m comin'. gimme a few minutes."

simon finds you in the family restroom of the little library, seated on the floor and hugging the toilet. he curses under his breath when he finds you, tears blurring your vision as you cry. you didn't sound so bad on the phone, but maybe you were just holding it together until you got yourself some help.

"ohhhh, swee'eart," he sighs, pushing the hood of his jacket off as he kneels down to your level. he wipes the sweat off your forehead with a gloved hand, cupping you under your jaw. "you olright?"

"no," you sob, gasping a little between tears. "i feel terrible, s-simon, i--"

"olright," he coos. "'m 'ere now. let's get ya 'ome. get ya into bed, tha' sound good?"

you nod. you look sickly, eyes dull, a cold sweat breaking out all over you. he suspects it might be the flu, considering the body aches you seem to have and the headache you tell him about as he helps you into the car. he gives you some water, stroking your face gently, and when you tell him how cold you are, he shucks his jacket off and drapes it over you before taking you back home.

you're in and out of consciousness over the next few hours. simon had helped you into your pajamas before tucking you into bed. he watched you with a glare to make sure you took the medicine he gave you, and he made you drink at least four glasses of water before he let you drift off to sleep.

when you wake up later in the evening, the cat is purring on her little bed hanging on the windowsill. simon had installed it a few weeks ago, a little perch bed so she could look outside and watch the little bunnies that came by in the morning. it's dark out now, and when you look around, simon has turned your little diffuser on, and it smells like lemons.

"s-simon?" you croak. your throat hurts. you hear a shuffle in the kitchen, and then simon is coming into the room. he doesn't turn the main light on, merely coming close and flicking the low lamp on beside you.

"'ow are ya feelin'?" he asks softly. your eyes are watery again, and he sighs, putting the back of his hand to your forehead and grimacing. "not as warm, at least. what do ya need, hmm?"

"my throat," you whisper. "i-it hurts--"

"i'll bring ya a cuppa, baby," simon murmurs. you sniffle, leaning into his hand. "do ya want somethin' ta eat? anythin'? got some bread...some soup if y'r up for it."

your lip wobbles, and he shakes his head, kissing your forehead gently.

"i'll bring ya some bread. if ya can keep it down, we'll try the soup, yeah?"

you just nod and shrug, and he picks up the box of tissues on the dresser and takes one out. he comes back to you, holding your cheek gently with one hand and wiping your tears with the other. he dabs at the sweat gently before he lets you relax again.

"i'll be right back."

you close your eyes when he leaves. you vaguely hear him in the kitchen, the sound of cookware and the whine of the kettle on the stove. simon comes back into the bedroom a little while later, holding a small plate and a steaming mug of tea. he sets down the tea, telling you it's something lemon with honey, and he shows you the thin slice of bread he's toasted with a little butter.

he sits with you while you eat small bites, and he helps you drink the warm tea that immediately soothes your insides. you start to cry again, but not from feeling so terrible.

"wot's wrong?" simon huffs, and you just look up at him, clinging to his shirt, pulling him onto the bed.

"t-thank you," you whisper, and simon just shakes his head.

"wot for?"

"f-for taking care of me. f-for c-coming to get me...for..."

simon meets your eyes, holding them, and he narrows his eyes.

"don't thank me," he says firmly. "wot fuckin' kind o' man would i be if i didn't take care of my wife, eh? sorry fuckin' wanker, is wot i'd be."

"b-but--"

"and when y'r better," he interrupts you, standing as he takes your plate, "got everythin' set up for ya outside. can move the lettuce, like ya wanted."

you sink into the cushions, happy tears in your eyes, and simon leaves, busying himself with the dishes as he tries to fight off the warm, aching feeling in his chest.

fuck, it feels so good to take care of you. to see you smile. to see your wobbly lip and those tear-filled eyes and know that he can make it all better--it feels so fucking good.

when he comes to bed later that night, you're still asleep, but you move towards him, seeking his warmth. it's instinctual now, easy.

there's a place at his side that's made only for you. it's shaped just how you are, it cannot be mistaken to be for anyone else.

when he whispers that he loves you into the dark, you don't hear him. but you scoot just that much closer.

[occudo]

An incomplete list of TMA fics I adore

-beacuse of this ask

(If you liked the fics I previously recommended/made fanart for, I think you'll gonna like these as well, but you know, read the tags, know what you are going into)

Yesterday is Here by CirrusGrey @cirrus-grey

Time Travel Fix-it! Slow burn! So good! So much sass from future!Jon- I doubt I have to introduce anyone this amazing author, but if you somehow missed them till now, this is your time! I highly recommend all of their other fics as well, for example one of a more recent one, The Stranger I Know Best is also a lovely read.

enthralling by Prim_the_Amazing @primtheamazing

Vampire!Martin!! I have no words of how much I love this concept, this story, everything about this. I think I'm going to repeat myself through this list, but I also recommend everything else they've written!

to fill... my heart with music? by godshaper @godshaper so their Martin and Jon design are different from mine, also they made a way better art for this- but still, I wanted to include this really good fic in this list.

Do It All Anew by inkfingers_mcgee or @crit20art

You know the feeling when you read a book that makes you cry, and after that you recommend it to your friend? Well- there is no reason I mentioned this, I'm just so normal about this fic. Or any other fic from inkfingers_mcgee... like Strange Manner of what I made another fanart way back. Also, check out their art!

Anyway, here is Aamal- she is not going to cause emotional damage.

And they were sidekicks (oh my god, they were sidekicks) by arthureameslove @arthureameslove

A lighthearted series where Jon and Martin are sidekicks of supervillains- it's just a really fun fic, also recommend everyting from this author - I previously draw fanart here for an other fic of theirs Like a Lighthouse, Call Me Home

neither sad, nor sick, nor merry, nor well by saintbleeding @saintbleeding

To quote the aurthour: "Post-divorce Jon and Martin in a wedding-based romcom" It's such a comfort read, also has a Tim/Sasha wedding, and lots of cameos! I realised most of these authors I made fanarts for before- like this one for some kind of miraculous bind, this one is oneshot and a bit more serious in tone.

Give Me the Words by rakel @rakel-on-ao3

"Jon and Martin try to make the most of a bad situation in the Scottish Highlands. The situation is worse than they realised." You know that one post about wanting to write PWP, but it keeps turning into character study? Well, this one comes to my mind each time I see that.

i wanna find a home (i wanna share it with you) by heartshapedguy @transgenderboobs

So what would have happened if instead of the cot (tm), Jon offered Martin his own flat to stay? There is no way it's going to change their relationship, right? Such a good read, if you want some fluff, I highly recommend it!

Lucky Stars by magnetarmadda @magnetarmadda

Martin has a lovely family (except his mother) but still, he needs a fake boyfriend, and Jon comes to the rescue. It's one of the first fics I remember reading after I finished the series. It is such a comfort read of mine~

(+enjoy a rare tall Jon from me)

There are so many more fics that also deserve the spotlight, these are just the ones I read multiple times and/or didn't made fanarts for before. If you find something here you like, give them some love! Kudos and comments! They deserve it. (Also, just an extra disclamier some of these are PWP or rated T- just mind the tags)

I tried to link and tag everything, I hope it works.

[kykyonthemoon]

How to babysit a wounded little Hunter

Injured after a mission, you now indulge yourself in his special tender loving care.

ಇ. Character x Female Reader fanfic,

including Caleb, Rafayel, Xavier and Zayne

ಇ. Tags: fluff, domestic fluff, early stage of established relationship

A little heads up: The writer will not take responsibility for any side effect (such as toothache) that might come after reading the fic.

ಇ. Word count: 4k

ಇ. Requested by Wytchie Pie and x

ಇ. Masterlist ♡ Request a fic ♡

𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃

You dimly sensed footsteps in the bedroom, and then one side of the bed sank. The acquainted scent and warmth embraced you. A cool hand rested on your forehead. In an instant, the heat in your body subsided.

So as soon as that hand was gone, you seized it.

"Don't go…"

You mumbled in a daze. There was a quiet laugh close to your ear, and then that palm brushed against your forehead again.

"If you don't let go, how can I take your temperature then, pipsqueak?"

You recognized that voice. It was Caleb's. So you acted even more aggressively. You yanked his hand tighter, so much so that his entire body appeared to collapse into the bed, just a little above yours.

"Huh? Aren't you a little too strong for someone who is sick?" Caleb laughed again. The sort of laughter that made you feel considerably better.

"I'm not sick." You were persistent, still. "Just feeling a little sleepy."

Caleb's hand tried to pull away from you. But perhaps he kept it that way on purpose, since given your current state, he would have no problem withdrawing if he truly wanted you to let go.

Caleb's hand patted you a little tenderly. He managed to grab the thermometer with his free hand. He took your temperature, then exclaimed: 

"Almost forty Celsius!"

You exhaled heavily, almost a moan. Every part of you felt irritated and heated. Despite this, you dismissed it, saying:

"I'm not... sick..."

Caleb used the chance to release his wrist from you. You opened your eyes slightly and gave him a disappointed expression.

"You have such a high fever, yet still saying you're not sick?" Caleb mumbled, but you caught every word. He handed you medicine, but you did not take it.

"Too bitter." You said.

"Quit whining. "Just take it and go to sleep."

"If I take it… you'll have to stay here with me, okay?"

Caleb sighed. "Only until you sleep, pipsqueak."

You smiled faintly and fast to accept the pills from Caleb's hand. You clutched his hand securely as you drifted off to sleep, dreaming of the Wanderers, the escapes, and the secrets in which you were a part of. Then, when you woke up again, you noticed Caleb seated beside the bed.

“You're awake now, pipsqueak?” He smiled at you. He was rather relieved. He put a hand on your forehead again. “Yup. No more fever."

Caleb's presence seemed to chase the nightmares away. You removed his hand from your forehead and held it tightly.

“How long have I been sleeping?”

"Let's see…" Caleb brushed his chin. "When you arrived home last night, you went to bed right away. You got a high temperature around early morning. From the time you took the medicine and fell asleep until now, I've finished a whole movie, cooked a delicious pot of porridge, and measured your temperature three times."

"What nonsense are you talking about?"

Caleb laughed. He squeezed your hand once. "You've just been asleep for a few hours. But it is past noon now. Are you hungry?"

You shook your head.

"Are you sure?" Caleb asked again. "I made a super delicious pork rib porridge for you though."

You opened your eyes wide and looked at him. Pork rib porridge was a dish he would often cook when you were sick and no longer in a mood to eat anything. That dish always helped you feel better, even just hearing about it was enough to make you crave food again.

"Pork rib porridge…"

You could only whisper that much when Caleb pressed the tip of your nose and said:

“I knew right away that you couldn't resist food.”

A minute later, the room was filled with the aroma of a still-hot bowl of porridge. Caleb put it on a little tray over the bed. You lay back against the cushion, staring at the meal in front of you as if it were a rare delicacy, despite the fact that the ingredients were absolutely basic.

You looked over at Caleb. He was observing you. "What's wrong? Still no appetite?"

“It's too hot…” You pouted. “Besides,… both my arms and body are aching…”

It took a quite difficult mission in extreme weather, and a high fever to receive special care at your bedside. How could you not enjoy it?

Caleb read you right away. He said: “What? The Hunter in Linkon wants me to feed her? Weren't you delirious this morning, saying you had to go fight off Wanderers?”

“When did I say that? But it's okay if you don't help me. I don't want to eat anymore.”

“Are you still a three-year-old then?”

Even though he grumbled, Caleb still smiled very gently. He scooped a spoonful of porridge, blew on it to cool down, then held it out to you.

You opened your mouth really wide, making him chuckle. When he saw that you were eating well, Caleb felt relieved. He teased:

"I thought you're a grown-up now and wouldn't need me to take care of you anymore."

You replied, still with a mouthful of pork rib porridge: "When you lose your cooking skills, I won't really need you anymore then."

Caleb laughed aloud. He patted your head and said: "I didn’t expect my vacation to turn into a part-time job for babysitting. If I catch a fever from you, you must take care of me in return.”

You rose up in a sudden and pressed your still-hot face into the crook of Caleb's neck, nearly dropping the porridge spoon.

“Then I’ll cook pork rib porridge for you. Just heads-up though, even if it tastes yucky, you must eat it all!”

𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍

The door to the hospital room opened. Rafayel's curly purple hair appeared. And immediately, your phone lit up with a text message from Thomas:

[The little devil is coming for you. Sorry, I did my best.]

You exhaled. Clearly, he had not done his best. That was why Rafayel was here, staring at you with such a deep gaze from the entrance.

"Er… "Hello, Rafayel..." You waved your arm, attempting to greet him with a warm smile.

"Rafayel?" He frowned. "Do you still remember that we know each other?"

"Huh? Why did you...?" You left your sentence incomplete as Rafayel surged inside. He placed his hands on his hips, his expression filled with slanderous words as he accused you.

"Who are you? Do I know you? It's been eight hundred years. Jellyfishes are walkin' naked. Sea turtles climb trees. Sharks are eatin' grass for free! And finally, you remembered me?"

You frowned. Why was there something that rang so familiar with this scenario? Yet it was still off.

“Rafayel, I—”

“When are you going to tell me you're hurt?”

Rafayel pointed a finger directly to your shoulder, where the white bandage was visible through the hospital gown. That was the real reason he was precisely distressed.

“Even Thomas knew you were injured. Yet you didn't say a word to me?! You left me waiting alone for three hours at the exhibition. I can't believe you stood me up!”

You lifted your hand, intending to remind Rafayel to keep his voice down because you were both in the hospital. But he gave you no opportunity to speak.

"Do you realize how scared I was? When Thomas told me you couldn't come, I thought about all the things that could happen to you!”

"Rafayel…" You finally found a chance to interrupt him.  “Let's calm down first. I didn't mean to hide it from you, it's just... I haven't told you yet..."

Rafayel crossed his arms. He was still irritated.

“I can't believe it! You deliberately manipulated me with your innocence so that I would let you get away this time!”

You felt dizzy in the head, and your ears were ringing with Rafayel's nagging words and accusations. The injured one was you. Why did you feel as if you had just committed a great sin?

"ARGHHH!" You shouted and clutched your bandaged shoulder. "It hurts!"

Rafayel quickly forgot the rage in his heart. He moved right away to the bed and gently raised your arm. His eyes were full of concern and anxiety.

“Are you hurt? I'll call the doctor here right away!”

You grasped Rafayel's hand, urging him to stay with you.

“See? I'm still very strong. Just a little hurt."

"How much is a little?" Rafayel frowned. You could feel his hot glare on your shoulder, soaking into the bandage and searing your wound.

"… This much." You clasped your thumb and index finger to form a circle, then held it up for Rafayel to see. He grabbed your hand and placed it on his chest.

"I don't believe you anymore." He continued to speak with a condescending tone. "I have to check it out with my own eyes."

"Huh? What do you mean?…” You suddenly blushed. Rafayel looked at you with serious eyes, yet very sincere. He replied:

“Your wound. I want to see it."

The mere notion of Rafayel wanting to look behind your garments made your cheeks flame. You withdrew your hand and refused:

“I told you I'm fine… Don't make such a scene…”

“If I don't see it, how can I be sure you're not lying to me? This isn't the first time you've hidden your injuries..."

That was all Rafayel said. You gazed at him for a second. Aside from being concerned about you, he was also saddened since you had repeatedly hidden your wounds from him. A great deal when you did not want to bother him, he always found out and became much more frustrated.

"Alright then…"

Eventually, you had to give in. You turned your back to Rafayel and carefully slipped the shirt collar down your shoulder, displaying the neatly wrapped bandages around your torso.

You could see your reflection in the front window. Your face turned crimson. And Rafayel stood next to the bed, attentively investigating you, his fingers softly caressing the gauze, causing you to bow slightly in pain as well as anxiousness.

“Yet you said it was just a little wound.” Rafayel muttered. It was his hand that drew your collar back up. And the next thing you knew, you were upgraded to the best room at the hospital.

You weren't used to how wealthy people spent their money. You looked at Rafayel, who had constantly been by your side during your hospital stay. He requested you to remain in the most advanced hospital room, with the greatest level of care. More than that, he refused to leave your side even when you asked to be alone.

"You don't have to do this, Rafayel." You spoke as he was peeling the fruit for you.

"Open your mouth." He handed you a slice of mango. Even if your lips stated it wasn't required, you nevertheless welcomed all of his attention.

"I'm serious…" As soon as you finished swallowing the mango, he gave you another slice. "Really, um... This mango is truly delicious..."

"Do you crave anything else?" Rafayel purposely ignored every time you told him he didn't need to stay there all day and night to care for you. Your wound had improved significantly.

“I think I can be discharged from hospital and get back to work now…” You said. “I don't want to bother you anymore…”

"What's that?" Rafayel pretended not to hear you. “I think I heard the sound of abalone porridge just being delivered to the hospital. Let me go grab it.”

You sighed. Another expensive meal he had prepared for you. But you knew how much you would miss these things when you left the hospital at last and could no longer benefit from his tender loving care.

“Maybe I'll stay here one more day... You're spoiling me too much...” You muttered beneath your breath, but Rafayel overheard everything. He pinched your cheek and responded:

“You're staying because of the delicious food, not because of my devoted service? This is so heartbreaking! Then, after you've recovered, I'll make you repay everything. You have to work overtime as my bodyguard too!"

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓

You crept along the hospital's vacant rear door. You were just hospitalized in the afternoon due to an injury suffered while on job. Even though the doctor advised you to stay for additional examination, you believed the damage was minor. On top of that, the mission was not yet over. You needed to get back to headquarters.

Unfortunately, your escape did not go well. You ran into a familiar shoulder before you could complete the corridor.

"X-Xavier?" You became pale, but not because of the pain. It was only that you were astonished and a little ashamed when caught red-handed.

His look was incredibly complicated, ranging from apprehensive to serious and somewhat furious.

"Where are you going?" he inquired.

You didn't dare to reveal the truth, so you invented an excuse: "Ah... well... The hospital room is quite boring, so I decided to go for a stroll."

"From the back door?"

"Er… I heard the nurse say this is a quicker shortcut to the garden..."

Xavier gazed at you for some time. You clutched your hand tight, terrified that he would not believe that ridiculous excuse. Yet, Xavier nodded at you: "Then let's go together."

Before you could respond, Xavier grabbed your hand and led you outside. It was night time, the wind blew, sending you a slight chill. Xavier took off his coat and draped it over your shoulders. That incredibly gentle gesture made you feel more guilty than ever for lying to him.

“Lead the way.” He told you shortly. For some reason, you had the impression that he was in extreme anger over you.

During the stroll, you didn't dare to speak, and Xavier did the same. He strolled close to you, as if keeping watch rather than walking together. You wandered about for a long time, but there was no trace of the hospital's garden anywhere. Xavier continued to follow your every step in such silence. Him being like that evoked even more guilt in your heart.

At last, you couldn't take it any longer and had to confess: "Xavier... Actually... The truth is, I don't know where the garden is..."

At that point, he spoke up and asked: "So why did you leave your hospital room?"

You didn't dare look into his eyes, so you just stammered an explanation: "Ah... My injury is nothing to be concerned about... That's why I... planned to return to headquarters..."

You noticed Xavier's hands clenching into fists. Fearing he'd be upset, you added: "The doctor also said my injury wasn't too serious— Ah!"

Xavier abruptly pulled your wrist, causing the wound on your arm to hurt. He read through your face which was miserable but still faking a smile. His voice turned sharp:

“If I hadn't caught you, would you really have sneaked away from the hospital?”

Your body convulsed in pain, but you were more concerned about Xavier's rage. You said, "I'm sorry... I was wrong... I'll return to the hospital room right now..."

"Good." Xavier responded curtly. Then he quickly leaned down and held you up in the attitude of a princess being carried.

"W-What are you doing, Xavier?"

"Let's take you back to the hospital room." His expression remained frigid, making you both terrified and embarrassed to be carried by him in such a manner.

Xavier did not return to the same path you had taken. Instead, he took you into the front entrance, where many people, including patients and hospital staff, could see you.

"Xavier? You... put me down! "They are looking at us!"

"I want them to see, so they know you intend to escape the hospital and will monitor you more closely."

Your cheeks became scarlet with humiliation. You swore you saw a kid pointing at you and chuckling, "Mom! I want to be carried like that princess, too!"

And you swore you saw Xavier smirking at that.

After an embarrassing journey, you finally arrived at your room. Xavier set you down on the bed. He chose to remain silent with you as punishment for your unsuccessful escape. You saw him sitting in the corner of the room, peeling a red apple for you.

“Xavier?”

You called out, but he didn't look at you and just replied curtly:

“Rest.”

“Are you angry with me?…”

Xavier's silence revealed the answer. You groaned and pulled the warm cover up high, as if to conceal yourself away from Xavier's rage, but he remained as quiet as a cloudless sky.

When he finished with the apple, he brought it over and gave you a slice. "Eat."

You did not enjoy this cold and distant demeanor of Xavier. If he was upset with you, he should have expressed it directly. You knew it was your fault, and he was so concerned about you that he got mad when you lied to him like that.

"Xavier, I'm sorry…" Your hands seized Xavier's wrist, which was clutching the apple slice. Your eyes widened as much as possible, even giving the impression that you were going to cry.

In the end, the ploy worked. His gaze had softened completely. He placed the plate of apples on the bed and used his other hand to elevate your chin a little. He said: "If you know your fault, then obediently eat all of these and rest."

His hand softly separated your lips, and his other hand inserted a slice of apple for you to eat. You were back in the sunshine, coaxing him to sit on the bed next to you.

"I'll give you three days to recover." Xavier spoke, his voice still agitated, but you could feel his boundless care and love.

"Then I shall bother you to watch over me for a few more days!"

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆

You had just returned to your private cabin at the icy mountain base when you heard a tap at the door. You answered the door, wondering who was seeking for you at this hour, and there was Doctor Zayne, holding a first-aid kit while standing outside.

“Zayne?” Your eyes caught the blood on his face and neck. Snow adhered to his dark hair. You took a step back and allowed him inside. "Why are you here?"

Your team had accepted the mission of rescuing people caught in an avalanche created by a group of Wanderers on the mountain. You had learnt that a team of physicians from Akso Hospital was also on their way. But you did not expect to see Zayne here.

Zayne set the first aid pack on the table and then turned to you. He went on to say: "I'm here to do my duty as a doctor."

You widened your eyes and inquired him again, "Your duty as a doctor?"

Zayne pointed to your abdomen, which was soaked from your own blood oozing through the gauze you had recklessly covered earlier.

"Oh dear…" You cried out. You were so engaged in battles that you didn't have time to look at your wound. Your head began spinning as a result of excessive blood loss.

Zayne's powerful arms directed and assisted you to the table. He put you to the wooden table and took a chair to sit in front of you.

"Doctor Zayne, what are you going to do?"

You noted this when you found his hand on the hem of your shirt. He seemed to want to lift it up.

"Treating you."

You knew that. But you were still extremely nervous when thinking that he was about to lift up your shirt. So your hand was still securely grasping his, preventing him from moving any further.

“I've already bandaged it. A nurse also helped me stitch up the wound earlier..."

During the turmoil, you recalled being stabbed in the abdomen. A nurse assisted you in stitching it up, but because there were so many others with more serious injuries, you let her tend to them while you put bandages over yourself and returned to the battlefield. Perhaps your clumsiness caused the wound to bleed a great deal more.

Zayne used his other hand to remove yours before pulling your shirt up. The gauze surrounding your abdomen was drenched in blood. He slowly withdrew it as you writhed in pain and embarrassment.

"Try to sit still for a bit, will you?"

Zayne's soothing voice burst out, calming you down a lot. You sat on the table, your hands lifting your body up while you looked down at the doctor who was treating your wound. The fact that you had to display your skin beneath his gaze made you uneasy and desire to cover your face. But Zayne was quite professional. He remained silent and entirely concentrated on his work. He cleansed the wound and applied a new layer of gauze. His warm breath occasionally wafted against your skin, causing you to tremble slightly. Even when his frigid fingers touched you, it seemed like you were being scorched.

"It's done."

Zayne said after fixing the new layer of gauze. You were a little discontent when his fingers left you. You were ready to pull your top back down when Zayne lightly rubbed his fingers against your abdomen.

“Ouch!” Even though the place he touched was not wounded, you were still startled and embarrassed.

“Just checking it again.” Zayne elaborated. He had you sitting on the table, your bandaged abdomen at his eye level. You could feel his stare through the gauze, pausing a bit too long in areas that were not covered by anything.

“Doctor Zayne… Are you done now?”

You attempted to keep your speech cool, but your crimson cheeks could have given you away. Zayne appeared to flash a little smile. You felt the icy sensation of his fingertip on your skin again as he slid it beneath the hem of your shirt, then pulled it back down.

"I am now." He answered while returning the supplies to the first aid kit. "Don't be so reckless next time. You have to care for yourself first before you can save others.”

"Hold on." You stopped him. You altered your position and stared into his eyes. "You always say so, but can you actually do what you say?"

Zayne tilted his head to look at you. You took advantage of the moment and raised his chin to have a better look. He had a minor cut on his forehead, and the blood on his body was most likely someone else's.

"You rushed here to take care of me, while you, yourself, are in this condition."

You spoke. His hand found your wrist.

"I barely got a few scrapes. Not as concerning as someone who rushed into the battlefield with a bleeding stomach."

"Whether the wound is big or small, it can be critical." You stated precisely what Dr. Zayne told you whenever he saw you injured, even if it was only a little cut.

Realizing that he had just tasted his own medicine, Zayne let out a small laugh. Then he tugged your hand, causing you to almost lean towards him. He gazed into your eyes for quite a while.

"So, my doctor, will you treat me?"

You blushed again. Zayne relinquished his hand, allowing you to properly wipe the blood off his face. You had to confess that you were a little awkward, owing to your unexpected closeness to Zayne in such a private and calm setting. He probably could hear your heart racing. He supported your hand which was holding a sterilized cotton pad and said:

"If you want to become a skilled doctor, in situations like this you must be even calmer."

"I'm not as professional as Dr. Zayne." You answered with a little caustic tone. "You were able to treat my wound so calmly just now."

Zayne gazed at you for an instant. His face remained calm, but his eyes were not.

"I'm a skilled doctor. Yet, it doesn’t imply that I wouldn't feel anything while treating the girl I like in such a... condition."

[crystallinestars]

I haven't finished the 3.0 quest yet, but seeing Mydei and Phainon bicker made me think they'd be perfect for a love triangle, hence this was born. Some parts may be inaccurate since I'm not caught up with the story and don't know the characters very well, but this was a fun idea to explore. Phainon x Reader x Mydei love triangle.

Phainon and Mydeimos had a longstanding friendly rivalry amongst themselves, often sparring together and competing to see who could defeat the most enemies or who was stronger. Their opposing temperaments led to a few disagreements every now and then, but it was undeniable that they saw each other as friends even if Mydei claimed otherwise.

Was it fate then that they became rivals in matters of love, as well?

By chance, the two Chrysos Heirs had met and befriended you, and each had grown infatuated with you. It was easy for Phainon and Mydei to figure out that the other also liked you. They've known each other long enough to see how the other treated you a little differently compared to everyone else, a little more special.

At first, they saw it as yet another friendly rivalry. Just a little competition to see who could win your heart first. However, Phainon and Mydeimos soon found out that matters of the heart can’t be so easily decided as a competition of strength.

What started out as a crush developed into deeper feelings of love as the two Chrysos Heirs got to know you better and you became a part of their lives. With these tender feelings also came sickening jealousy.

It was common for Mydei and Phainon to proudly declare their intentions to the other about winning you over and responding with a witty remark or a taunt, but the mood between them was still friendly. Now, their friendship grew strained, tainted by jealousy.

Phainon stopped being able to leave you and Mydei alone together. Something gnawed at him whenever he spotted you alone with the prince of Kremnos. The way Mydei's hands lingered on your waist for a moment too long when instructing you on self-defense maneuvers was a little too intimate to be appropriate. Mydeimos spoke a little gentler to you, as well. It was barely noticeable, but Phainon caught the softer tone the Prince used when speaking to you.

Even more unsettling was when Phainon stumbled upon one of your training sessions with Mydei and found you pinned to the ground under the Prince's body, most likely as a result of losing a sparring match. The way Mydei was in no rush to get off of you didn't escape Phainon's notice and he felt sick to his stomach until he interrupted whatever intimate moment was happening between you two. Phainon couldn't get any peace of mind until he unceremoniously inserted himself between you and Mydei and put a stop to any possibility of you growing closer to the Prince. His interruptions angered Mydei and were a frequent topic of contention between them when you weren't around, but even though Phainon felt bad for doing so, a part of him couldn't stop.

Images of you and Mydei whispering your love for one another and leaning in for a kiss would spring to Phainon's mind and make his stomach churn until he felt nauseous. He wished to do those things with you, but the thought of the prince of Kremnos sharing such intimacy with you caused jealousy and insecurity to well up in his chest. The thoughts wouldn't leave until he severed those intimate moments between you and Mydeimos and whisked you away from his rival with the promise of taking you on an exciting adventure through Okhema.

Mydei's hostility towards Phainon grew the more the white-haired man stole you away from him, to the point he almost started a fight with his rival. Mydeimos grew protective of you and would do all he could to chase Phainon away, but would silently grit his teeth and relent if you chose to leave, feeling his heart sink as he watched you walk away with his meddling rival. Mydei hated feeling so attached. He hated how he longed to see you every day and keep you by his side as if he were some lovesick puppy. However, what Mydeimos hated even more was the heavy feeling of jealousy choking his heart each time he saw Phainon kiss the back of your hand or tenderly brush a stray lock of hair out of your eyes with a sickeningly gentle gaze directed your way.

Phainon also gifted you lots of little trinkets and jewelry, and each time you showed them off to Mydei, the Prince wanted nothing more than to take them off you and toss them away. Those accessories mocked him, reminding Mydei that he wasn't the only man interested in your affections, and it filled him with equal parts fury and dread. Mydei didn't know where to direct that volatile concoction of emotions except at his friend.

Things got particularly heated when Mydei confronted Phainon during yet another one of the latter's attempts to whisk you away. Their argument caught the attention of passerby, and soon rumors about you spread throughout Okhema. Gossip about how two Chrysos Heirs were fighting over you spread through the city, as did malicious rumors of you stringing the two men along for your sick amusement, and several envious looks.

Realizing their fight for your heart was resulting in problems for you, Mydei and Phainon made the decision to settle things once and for all in the only way they knew best--a duel. The winner will have the right to continue courting you while the loser will be forced to give up pursuit. Neither wanted to lose, but as they stared each other down with weapons in hand, they knew one of them would have to give up on their feelings for you, as painful as that would be.

[buckyalpine]

Just a fluffy little thought. A grumpy, moody, broody Bucky, moping and grumbling through the compound with a scowl on his face. He was restless and annoyed the whole jet ride home. He tosses his bags off to the side, throwing off his tactical gear without a care in the world and Sam and Nat are utterly baffled because the mission was a complete success. Bucky's plan worked perfectly, his strategies were what got them in and out, he'd even saved a group of civilians that were unexpected.

Why was he grumpier than usual?

Because something is not right.

Everyone gathers for dinner and he barely takes a bite. He's shifting his food around his a fork before getting up and sitting on the couch instead with his arms across his chest and shoulders tensed. No one breathes a word, letting him storm to himself. Except you. You'd noticed Bucky's less than pleasant attitude but it doesn't scare you and you felt bad seeing him sitting by himself clearly stewing over something.

Maybe you had a crush on the soldier too. Maybe.

"Hey" You give him a soft smile as you take a seat beside him, still giving him space, "You okay?"

He gives you a shrug in response but that was normal with Bucky. You'd check in again and if he still didn't want to talk, you'd leave him alone.

"What's wrong"

Usually his standard answer of telling people to fuck off was easy but not with you. Never with you. Not when you turn him into a pile of mush and fluff. Bucky's grumpy face turns more into a pout as he contemplates telling you what's been making him so mad.

"My tummy hurts" he mumbles and you have to hold every fiber of your body together to keep from melting into a puddle because he could have said he felt unwell. Stomach pain. Stomach ache.Felt sick. Felt off. He could have said absolutely any other variation of what he was feeling but no.

The poor, grumpy, angry soldier was huffy and puffy because of a tummy ache.

"I'm sorry bub" you coo, not even realizing what you'd called him,"What would make you feel better?" You ask but Bucky doesn't actually know the answer. When he usually felt queasy he'd just grit it out until it went away.

"When I was little, my ma would make me some soup" He wasn't sure if it actually cured anything but he remembered it always being the yummiest thing he'd tasted and the one thing that made him feel all better. "But that was for when I had a cold"

"What about for tummy aches" You asked, noting the way the soldiers cheeks turned pink, his fingers fidgeting with each other. Of course he knew what his ma would do for his little achy belly but it's not like you could help...

"Um, sometimes she'd tuck me in bed and then.."

"Then?" You cock your head in curiosity while Bucky's voice dies on his tongue.

"Then she'd rub my tummy till I went to sleep" He rushes out with a small voice while keeping his eyes trained on his hands. His eyes grow wide at the giggle you let out, worried he'd made a complete idiot of himself, what were you to do with that information, it's not like you'd-

"C'mere" You take his hand gently in yours, gauging his reaction before moving him to lay his head on your lap. Bucky's stomach is now a mess of butterflies and whatever was upsetting him, his muscles melting into Jello as soon as you'd touched him. "Is this okay?" Your hand rests closer to his hip than right on his stomach and Bucky is barely able to squeak out a yes along with a quick nod.

You hum, moving your hand to rub soft circles around his tummy, his firm muscles under making you giddy on the inside. You recollect your nerves, focused on soothing motions, your other hand moving to play with Bucky's hair. You card your fingers through his short chestnut locks, smiling at the way he closes his eyes, his breathing starting to slow, muscles releasing their tenison.

"Better?" You whisper, giggling to yourself at the deep purr he made in response, relaxing with your gentle ministrations. He rolls over, smushing his face against your stomach, far too relaxed to care. The soft snores that follow after let you know the remedy certainly worked. As soon as you move your hand away, he blindly reaches out, placing it right back where it belongs and going back to sleep immediately after, tummy ache all gone, flutterly little butterflies replacing them. He's already dreaming of all the ways he could return the favour.

Isn't he an absolute precious baby.

So cute.

Bonus scene:

Of course the team gawk at what they see; the grumpy soldier now happy as a clam on your lap.

"What's wrong with him?"

"Bucky's tummy hurts" You reply with a smile and honestly the answer sends everyone into chaos.

"Awww Buckyyyy"

"So that's why he was so grumpy. Should've known when he kept pouting everytime we had turbulence"

"AWWWW The winter soldier as a widdle tummy ache?" Sam coos, only to silence his cackles when Bucky's eyes shoot open, staring daggers at him. "Don't give me that look when you're curled up on y/n's lap like a cat"

"Does rubbing it help ya feel all better-oh fuck"

Bucky's glare sends everyone scrambling right out, the empty room leaving him all content again.

Yes.

Rubbing his tummy made him feel all better.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

If your requests are still open may I request Adam, Alastor or Lucifer doesn't matter which taking care of sick reader? I'm sick rn, like can't breath though my nose and sore throat all that jazz

A/n: I AM SOERY FOR MISSING THIS! Tumblr never lets me know! I hope you feel better!

Adam:

"Shouldn't you be resting? Didn't I order you get someone else to do this shit?!" Adam didn't mean to snap but you were sick and yet here you were working.

Wrinkling his nose, he took a step towards you then lifted you onto his shoulders. A small squeak left your lips as the angel carried you off towards his room.

"Adam" you let out a small cough, too weak to struggle. "Put me down! I have to work"

Nearly tossing you on the bed, you let a groan burying your face into his pillow as he slipped into next to the spot next to you.

"Didn't you hear me? Someone else can do it." He muttered into your neck. "Now get some sleep, when you wake up I'll get someone to bring you some shit to make you feel better."

Alastor:

Stopping his show, Alastor slowly made his way towards the sound of the constant coughing. Gripping his cane tightly the demon opened his mouth until he saw who it was. It was a pathetic sight really.

You curled up into a small ball coughing away, tissues all around you. He could see shivers wracking your body.

'Idiot, he told you not to stay out, he told you this would happen.'

Part of him wanted to brag about it, to gloat to you but how could he really gloat to someone he...cared about. { that was something he was still getting used too }

Now hovering about you, Alastor let out a dramatic sigh he lifted you up in his arms. "Let's go so you can be back in tiptop shape."

Groaning, you nuzzled into his chest as you let out another cough. "T...thank you." Your voice raspy as your eyes slipped closed.

"Oh dear, you do not have to thank me."

Lucifer

The moment you mentioned to Lucifer that you weren't feeling well the man whisked you away to the bedroom. He did his best to make you as comfortable as possible, he couldn't have the one he loved being sick.

Sitting on the bed, he pouted fixing the cold press on your head. You were still feeling warm, he hated that, he hated seeing you sick.

Flinching from your cough, he sat down on the edge of the bed holding your hand gently. "Do you need anything to eat? Drink?....how about another blanket?"

Letting out a weak laugh, you did your best to give him a smile as you squeezed his hand gently. "Can you cuddle me?"

Lucifer's eyes went wide for a moment though his gaze softened as he nodded his head. "Anything for you."

[bunny-jpeg]

mean, mean man

capt. john price

cw: smut/pwp, dom!price, mean!price, degrading, dumb!reader, sub!reader, tattooed!price, size difference/kink, fat cock!price, fingering, safe words/signs, dirty talk, pussy slapping, breast play, mating press, hot stuff inside (!!!)

bunny says: reblogs and comments are always appreciated, i love feedback!

price never considered himself a mean man, he didn't act with malice. and by god, he'd never hurt his woman. at least not in the aisles of a tesco or while you were at the art gallery together.

he'd hold doors open for you, hold your belongings while you went to the bathroom. he was your go-to when you had your period. he wasn't a mean man.

until he wasn't. price was far from abusive however, the idea of hurting his girl in such a horrible way made him sick. he worshiped his baby.

but john price was a mean dom.

he had come back from a week on base, and the first thing he needed was the sweet little thing he called a wife. you were so much smaller than him, one time you softly pressed your palm against his to compare sizes and he almost came in his pants.

he more often than not had your sticky lip gloss in his beard on around his cock, a ring of bubblegum flavouring.

he had been home for a few days and still he had not had his fill of you. in all fairness, in was an unquenchable thirst. the more he indulged in his sweet wife, the more he wanted.

you had brought him some dinner to eat in front of the television before the football game started. he noticed that you were in the cute little sundress he had bought you prior to his departure to base. he almost had to bite his fist at the sight of you.

"c'mere, love." he said in this thick accent of his, he spread his legs a little further. you could see the imprint of his heavy cock in his grey sweatpants. he gave his thigh a pat, "why don't cha sit down with your husband."

"i have to clean up." you said. it was a fruitless attempt to not have your husband bully his fingers or cock into you during dinner. but, in all fairness most of the dishes were already done. either soaking in the sink or in the dishwasher.

he gave his strong thigh another pat, "that's fine, love. i'll clean it after. you've done enough for me." then watched you with hungry eyes as you sat down in his lap. he could feel your ass up against his erect cock.

his dinner plate was on the side table next to the couch and price got a strong arm around your middle and pressed you to him as he started to eat at a weird angle.

his arms were covered in tattoos, since your marriage he had gone over what every one of them meant. from the small lock on his wrist to symbolize his time in his home town, to the 141 on the back of his neck as his team keeps his head on his shoulders, to the tiny tattoo on his ankle that had the numeral date of your wedding on it.

but the man was hairy and covered in ink, looked in such a stark contrast to you. he didn't think his girl needed tattoos, you were already perfect with your beauty marks and other lines on the skin. even the scar on your chin for an accident as a child was more beautiful than an inch of ink on his skin.

as he ate the beautiful meal you made him (meatloaf and mashed potatoes, a personal favourite), his hand dropped from your waist and got better your legs. he pushed the skirt of the sundress up and rubbed your puffy clit over your thin cotton panties.

he kept his eyes on the television as he felt you squirm against him. he chuckled to himself, but covered it with a small cough. he said idly, "easy there, beautiful. i'm eatin'."

he kept you pinned to him and you held onto his strong arm as he pulled your panties to the side and got two fingers in with ease. you feeling of them made you moan and you dug your sweet little nails into his forearm.

"what did i say?" he asked, "i told you be good." he pumped his fingers into you.

"john, please." you whimpered.

he continued to eat, even going as far as to feed you some of his dinner (as if you didn't have your own plate on the coffee table). patronizingly feeding you, as if he was the big strong provider for his tiny, fragile wife.

"eat up, girl." he said as he started to move his fingers faster, "gotta keep your strength. gotta keep that body healthy to give me babies." he chuckled, "make sure a good mum for my little brats." he could feel you getting wetter. he pressed the fork to your mouth and you slowly ate it.

your attention was split between the pleasure between your legs and trying to chew on meatloaf. your core throbbed. suddenly he pulled his fingers out and you whined like a whore.

he slapped your pussy and said in a stern tone, "i want a woman. not a dumb, cock hungry whore." price was rarely mean outside of your little 'playtime'. you knew after this he would be apologizing frantically.

"john." you whimpered.

he gave you pussy another hand slap and then grabbed your face. the smell of your pussy lingered on his fingers and your fresh wetness smeared across your cheek. he held you face close to him.

"you're a dumb little thing, love. a squirmy little worm that i gotta keep under my boot. but don't worry. i like 'em small, i like when its a struggle to get this fat cock into your little, sweet cunt." his words were like fire in your bloodstream. his lips were up against your cheek, nose pressed into your skin, "yeah, yeah. pretty fat tits, pouty lips, a cunt i can just slide into. i could probably turn a good profit on you, film me rearranging your insides and cum all over that pretty face. make you suck my cock after it fucked your sweet pussy."

you felt heat searing across your face and neck.

before you could get too lost in it, he asked, "who is the captain of the liverpool football club?"

"virgil van dijk."

"how many museums are in liverpool?"

"nine." then you tapped the back of his hand nine times. two safe guards before you played, one verbal, one physical.

price kissed you on the cheek with tenderness before his hand went away from your face and back between your legs. his voice was low once more as he said, "i love a girl who knows her rules. pretty things like you thrive off of 'em. havin' a big strong man make all the choices." he plunged both fingers back into your slick hole and kept you against him as he fingered you.

you held onto your husband's thick forearm and let him make a mess of your cunt with his thick, calloused fingers. his facial hair rubbed against your skin as he left hot kisses on the flesh.

"see, you know where your place is. so you found the biggest captain to sit your pretty little pussy on and flash those pretty tits to me. because you knew that i'd keep ya safe." his other hand grabbed your left breast and his grip made you whimper.

you held onto him and let him play with your pretty pussy. you whimpered and moaned into his neck as your breathing got heavier. you felt so wet between your legs.

"dumb little thing. i did the smart thing and put a rock on your finger and a nice little place to call home. you're a better housewife than anythin'. makin' sure your man is fed and taken care of. i have a feelin' if i didn't come in at the right time, you'd be a 141 cum dump. but i'm just too greedy for this pretty little pussy.' his panted against your skin, his own dirty talk was getting him riled up too, "they don't have the discipline to handle a thing like you." his other hand then pinched your nipples through your dress. he now noticed that you weren't wearing a bra underneath.

a hard tug on your nipple made you gasp.

he chuckled, "pathetic little thing." he took his fingers out and got a hold of you to bring to the bedroom. he wanted his cock and your sweet pussy was like the temptation of christ.

if he didn't like the dress so much on you, it would've torn it off your body at the seams. he did tap his foot as he watched you hastily take off the garment, leaving you in those cute (yet soaked) panties.

those price ripped off, but they came in a value pack at the store. nothing he couldn't replace. the garment tore away with a bit of form, but eventually they were a scrap of fabric on the floor.

that's what he liked, his naked little wife.

he was already leaking through his sweats when he got them off, followed by the british military t-shirt. he was soon naked as well, his cock stood at full attention. it was imposing and fat, with a leaky tip and heavy balls.

he man-handled you into a breeding press. you were at the edge of the bed with your ankles at your ears, glistening, shiny pretty pussy on display. he stood at the edge of the bed and made his cock known inside of you.

this was a personal favourite for him. knowing that his pink tip was nudged up against the beginning of your cervix, most likely bruising the hell out of it.

it was the closest a man could be with his wife. keeping her bent at angles to bully his fat cock into her.

"i've trained ya well, love.' he said, his accent thicker as lust swamped his brain, "remember when we met and i had to spend hours fingering you until you were able to take half of me. now i can be balls deep all i want. fittin' me like a glove. that's why i can't have ya runnin' around base. they'd catch the scent of your sweet pussy, so i had to cover it up with the scent of my cum. so they know who has staked claim." he held you by the thighs and thrusted into you.

it didn't take long for your head to become heavy with lust. you panted and moaned like a good little whore while your strong, hairy husband rammed his cock into you.

he watched those pretty tits bounce with each hard thrust, next time he was gonna slap them around until they got nice and bruised. bite your nipples until they were puffy, maybe he'd make you cum so hard you cried.

your tongue stuck out of your mouth a little as you gasped for air. your knees were in your lungs as he fucked the air out of you. you were bent in a way for his pleasure, but by god did it stir something in you.

big meanie john price. the one who pulled out the chair for you at the restaurant you both went to. the one who cooed at you when he went to get you a band-aid because you tripped in the garden and got a small scrape. now, his cock was spearing you in two while filth poured from his lips.

he thrusted into you and panted heavily cut between harsh groans, "fuckin' pretty thing. with your cute cunt and fat tits. soft in all the right places for a hard man like me. you take me so well, come such a long way. you knew if you couldn't fit my cock in you, i'd throw ya to the wolves. if i wanted that pussy stretched out, i'd give ya to my loyal dog. i think simon would do a number on ya, then you'd take me quite well." he was panting heavily, your pussy was a vice around him.

something flipped in your stomach as price went in for a searing kiss. you were both losing steam, the pleasure was climbing to heights that left you dizzy. you clutched onto his shoulders for some kind of leverage.

the slick sounds of sex were prominent in the bedroom, you came with ease. already overstimulated. you tried to kick out your legs as a response, but he had you so pinned down that you were trapped under him.

he panted harsh nothings to you, but they barely stuck in your brain. his cock continued to bully you until he shove it all the way to the root to spit out cum against your more intimate areas.

"jesus fuck." he groaned as he stopped. his mind flashed blank for a moment before he wiped the sweat off his forehead. he pulled out and grabbed you by the shoulder. he waited for any type of safe word or signal, but nothing came. so he forcefully dragged you up to where the pillows were and got you under the sheet.

"john."

"got ya."

you laid there next to him, price's cum stuck to your inner thigh as your breathing started to level out. you looked up at your husband and smiled. you felt the heat in your belly linger.

you knew your pussy was bruised, you knew tomorrow would be a bit of pain in the morning. but, by god did price know how to make you feel good.

he held you close to him, tattooed arm across your untouched back. he was satisfied in knowing that his woman was feeling good. he was also proud that his cum was being kept safe in your sweet, slick pussy.

"how ya feelin'?" he asked, but his eyes went wide as you shifted away from him. he watched you swing your leg onto the other side of him and straddle his waist. his blue eyes looked at your closely, "give me a number, love."

"seven." seven meant needy.

price smirked and grabbed you by the ass to rubbed his softening cock against your stomach and pussy. he nodded as his erection grew. his face was still hot as he said, "alright, slut. better make it worth my while. next time i'll take a few photos when i fucked ya out to send to the boys." then gave you round ass cheek and a good slap.

price was a good man, a good husband. but a mean, mean dom.

[muntitled]

Attention!!!

'- Summary: the one where Jake fakes being sick all for your attention

'- Warnings: Established Relationship, Language, Lying, Manipulation, Slightly toxic themes, Perv!Jake, Coercion, Smut (+18) mdni, Locker room talk, Oral sex, Dub/Con, Cockwarming, Spit, Bodily Fluids, Squirting, Oragasm Denial, Dom/Sub Themes, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Edging, Unprotected Sex

'- A/N: very unethical, very bad, pervy Jake. You have been warned.

Jake had been far more physically affectionate than usual since he caught the flu. That should've been your first sign.

The first signs of his sickness began with you lying supine on the couch, absolutely immersed in the fantastical world of your current read while Jake spoke idly to himself, gaming away on the television with your legs propped on his lap. You were so immersed in your novel, you might've actually missed the first cough he let out.

Then the second.

And then finally the third that had your brows furrowing with concern as you lowered your book.

"Babe?"

"Hm?" Jake asked distractedly, he had just broken in his copy of FIFA 23, a gift from you that had him nearly fainting on the spot. He was addicted to you.

While he toggled with the controller, he missed the slightly worried look etching across your face but when he did finally catch it, he did a double take- glancing at your slowly frowning lips before dragging his eyes back to the TV screen.

"Why so blue, babe?" Jake still spoke distractedly, with his head turned sideways, his eyes remained glued to the screen. He coughs once more, causing you to discard your book to the side completely. The couch undulates underneath you both as you sit up, pulling your legs off Jake's lap. The whole time while you moved, he kept his gaze on you in his periphery, heart beating rapidly when you pushed against his side and placed your hand on his temple.

"Baby, are you getting sick?"

Jake couldn't form any words at all because your chest was pressed against his bicep and he nearly dropped his controller at the discovery that you weren't wearing anything under your oversized shirt.

Seeing you so concerned about him, it stirred something sinister in the pits of your stomach, something that craved to be nurtured by you.

"You're so pretty, you know that?" He looks away from the TV screen momentarily to stare at the curve of your breasts protruding from your flimsy shirt. Jake immediately decides that is enough to pause the game indefinitely, as he drops the controller, pulling you into his lap. Your frown deepens like the unmistakable pool of worry growing in the bottom of your stomach. You let Jake cuddle into your chest as you continued to feel warmth around his ears, his jaw, his neck.

"I think you're coming down with something,"

"You're right," he says, pulling back to pull his shirt over his head, "It's lethal. Experts say the only cure is to have my very attractive girlfriend riding me till I-"

"Jaeyun, I'm being serious."

He had begrudgingly taken the medicine thereafter but still his advances were strong …

"- it was the best head I ever got in my fucking life dude, I'm telling you" Jake says to Jongseong over the phone. As he reminisces, he treads from the kitchen to the living room, cradling a steaming bowl of Butternut soup you had whipped up for him to combat his "cold."

"You're diabolical-" says Jay, through the receiver.

"I made her cum too," Jake scoffs, "I'm not a complete monster."

He honestly didn't think it was a crime. Sure, he might've already recovered from his sickness 2 days ago but he'd give up one thousand sick-free days if it meant you'd dote on him as you've been doing the past week.

Jake lowers himself onto the couch thinking about how utterly domesticated you've looked, prancing about the kitchen in a little housewifely dress to cook up his soups to make him feel better. The only downside is that your soup worked a little too well, and here he was, with a raging hard-on thinking about how much you loved on him.

"She's going to kill you, you do know that?" Jongseong's snicker is as clear as day, and Jake rolls his eyes.

"She's not going to do shit. She likes me like this as much as I do-".

"You’re sick-" Jongseong groans.

"Precisely," Jake laughs, and in his cocky display he nearly doesn't notice you standing in his periphery. Once he does, he's ready to end Jongseong's call in a heartbeat.

"I'll call you back," he mumbles over the line, mouth parted slightly as he stares at you over the rim of his bowl of Butternut soup. You're distractedly searching for something with nothing wrapped around your body other than a linen white towel. Jake immediately discards the bowl on the coffee table, spreading his legs wide as he makes grabby hands at you.

"Not now, Babe," The way you speak to him, so positively filled to the brim with warmth and love, that has him melting into the couch.

"I need you," he says, fingers flexing as he urges you to throw yourself into his arms. "I need you real bad,"

"What you need is more cough medicine," you're slowly sauntering towards him, despite your words (it was so difficult to say no to him), and the second you're even a small centimetre within the radius that surrounds him, he sits up and grabs you, caging you in his arms, never to let go. You yelp as you are pulled onto his lap- a sound that bleeds into a gasp when you're forced to feel the erection bulging his grey sweatpants.

"I need to run to the pharmacy, Jake,”

Your boyfriend is utterly insatiable as he guides his lips to the back of your ear, licking and kissing at the skin all while drinking up your cute little gasps. Your back is pressed against his front with your ass pushing against his bulge, it's an absolute wonder that he stops himself from bucking up into you.

“Need you so bad, baby-” he mumbles, kissing up the side of your face with his eyes fluttered shut, “Need you to make me feel better-’ you're breathing heavily, ready to push yourself off of him until he mutters, “You want me to feel better, right.”

Your voice is soft and affirming as you predictably mumble, “Yes, Jake, of course-”

“Then let me in, baby-” he sinks his fingers into the softness of your belly, and dips to plant even more kisses down the side of your neck. Jake marvels at how malleable you are in his hands. Like perfectly sculpted clay.

It is only when he finally reaches around to tug at your towel that you are snapped from your daydreams. “Jake- I need to get you stronger meds, you've been sick for way too long-”

“Fuck- I'm so hard for you baby,”

“Jake…” he interlocks his hand around your wrists, guiding your palm back to the space between your ass and his bulge. “Feel how much I need you,” Jake mumbled in that petulant way that had you complying with his crude sexual advances all week. -And you couldn't even lie to yourself at this very moment, your core was steadily soaking your underwear. You loved how needy he was. How much he needed to be inside you. And you've indulged him, this entire week, after he'd drank his medicine, Jake would always somehow end up inside of you, fucking you relentlessly as if there was no sickness at all.

“J-Just need to be inside you, yeah?’ he's already lifting you with one arm circled around your waist. It's enough for him to pull his sweatpants down, his hard, heavy cock far too eager for you to sink down on it.

“Jake- babe-”

“Here, lick this-'' Jake immediately stuffs two fingers in your mouth and you're immediately silenced. It's how he manhandles you, how utterly in control he is despite being sick, that has you humming and moaning around his fingers. The second he pulls them out, he's reaching under the towel to rub your puffy clit.

“You're so wet, I think you want this too, Princess.”

Jake mumbles into the side of your head, spouting all his dirty vitriol in your ear like he knows you enjoy, all while slowly lowering you onto his monstrous cock.

“Oh my God, you're such a slut-'' he mumbles drunkenly as the head of his cock stretches you open. It fills you in a way that's not only satisfactory, but so deliciously addictive until soon, you're moaning phonography moans, as you push your ass back down onto him, fucking yourself on his leaking cock. “Just like that, fuck-” Jake's head is in the clouds, whike his mouth is hung open, utterly delirious with lust. You bring your knees onto the couch and Jake sits back, making way for you to sit in reverse cowgirl, enough to pull even more of him into you.

“M-Make me cum first,” you mumble, immediately resulting in Jake reaching around to rub furious circles around your clit.

“Fuck, I'm so close, Jakey-”

“God, babe, please cum for me-” he chants so many ‘babe’s’ so many ‘pretty pleases’ until you're squirting around him, with your cunt convulsing around his cock.

“Oh my fucking God, don't stop-” but that's exactly what you do once your high is over. You stop.

“W-What the fuck!?” Jake asks, bucking up into you, after your hips stop moving on top of him at all. He clamps his hand on your sides, urging you to move but you do nothing of the sort.

“Did it feel good, lying to me?” He doesn't register your words, far too hellbent of reaching for his orgasm that lays just beyond a metal threshold.

“Wh-What-”

“I heard you talking to Jongseong.” You seethe, craning neck back to glare daggers in his half-lidded, distressed eyes. “You lied about being sick.”

Jake throws his head back, whining before trying to fuck uo into tou again, “Baby, just sit back down, I'm so close-”

“How long, Jake,” He's trying to be serious, he's trying to sound apologetic, but the sternness in your voice has him reaching the edge.

“P-Past week, fuck!” Jake is in both heaven and hell as a small bit of precum dribbles from his cock still inside you. It twitches and throbs and Jake's fingers sink deeper into your skin. “Okay I couldn't resist you, you were so good!” he finally admits, “And your soup was so good. And the sex too! Everything was so good. What can I do to make it up to you?”

Your next words send a tidal wave of disappointment scorching his stomach. “I don't think you should get to cum- It seems like a bad idea to reward bad behavior with positive reinforcement.”

“Don't talk science at me, just fuck me!”

“I hate you.”

“Don't say that, babe- fuck-I'll cum,” He squeezes you tighter, keeping you firmly situated on top of him. His lips press into your back as he whines helplessly, pride be damned.

"L-Let me cum, babe, please. Im so sorry, I just love you too much. Way too much. And I love when you love me." There are invisible bloody strings pulling at your heart.

"I always love you though, Jake." And as you relent, immediately starting to move your hips again, Jake squirts his cum inside you whole his hips buck wildly into you.

“Just like that, Princess-” he mutters, gasping for air as his orgasm falls upon him. It's vicious and blinding after all that dangerous edging and he moans loudly into the open air. “So sorry-” he mumbles with his hips still bucking up inside you, “m’so sorry. I'll do anything to make it up to you…”