#mind you i had just woken up so i was so delirious while doing this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nrdmssgs · 7 months ago

Note

Honestly need some nikto being violently concerned over readers health after they came home from a bar all far too loopy and delirious to be normal drunk if you're comfortable with that if you're not that's fine

Masterlist I hope, I got you right.

TW: mention of drug poisoning (no graphical depictions)

He never questioned your loyalty. Nikto may be a territorial animal, but he never doubted you. Others however...

"He-heeey, `m fine! C-can do it on my own," you babble, as you push away his hands and try to untie your shoelaces. If he was concerned before, just witnessing you entering home - now Nikto starts seeing red.

Because how you move and talk is so not you. Nikto saw you tipsy before, once you two even had obviously too much, and he remembered, how you were back then. Silly, yes, soft and mushy, a tad bratty, tired, but still crazy - this all was natural. And now a strange shiver runs all over your body every five minutes.

Oh no, this is not an early hungover. This and the fact, that you spent the last 15 minutes sitting in a hallway, untying and tying your shoes again and again. He sighs and descends on his knees before you. Catches your hands and presses his lips against your knuckles.

"I will help, little one."

You manage exactly one sound: a weak little mewl of protest. But Andre slowly shakes his head, looking you in the eyes and repeats: I. Will. Help.

You finally give in under his intense, and, for a reason unknown to you, concerned gaze. His movements are so careful as if hes undressing a porcelain doll. You smile and giggle, asking him to stop tickling you every time his fingers clasp around your ankles.

It breaks his heart, because he actually barely touched you. Your senses are a mess, your body is not ok, your mind... And what is about your mind?

"Sokrovishche*, tell me, how the evening went? Had fun?" Nikto is a shitty actor, his voice barely masks the fact, that he can barely think straight himself. But you seem to not notice that, because you answer lightheartedly, while he carries you to the bedroom.

Your story is hectic, and the jerky narration doesn't help it: you jump from one topic to another, mix up names and facts. But it's your sincerity that tears him apart - you're not trying to trick Nikto, you're confused and lost.

There is one particular detail reappearing in your story: a guy. You try and try again to remember his face or the name at least, but fail and start worrying.

"It's ok, if you don't remember. Tell us, what you've been drinking, mm? Something tasty?"

Tell us. A bad omen. A terrible one. It's been a while since the last time, the voices have woken up. But you miss this detail, as you miss every second word shared now.

"A glass of wine. Then a glass of water, then again the wine, the same one. After that I got thirsty once again, asked for water, he brought me a bottle, it was sealed, I remember. And then... And then I d-d-ont..." Your eyes widen slowly.

Niktos jaw clenches, a cold light grows stronger deep in pale blue eyes. That scum. Sealed bottles? So he cooks a batch prior to his night out, somewhere in his place...

"Andre, did I?... How long? What did he..." You can't finish any question, your tongue suddenly feels too big and heavy to form a full sentence. In a desperate attempt to catch a breath, you take an inhale, but your breaths grow ragged. Not even noticing this, you start hyperventilating.

He gathers you into his arms, engulfs your body in a warm embrace, hides your face on his chest and softly rocks you back and forth, helping you find a soothing breathing rhythm.

"Vsye khorosho, sokrovishche. You're safe, we promise. No bruises left. He didn't touch you."

When Nikto touches his lips to your forehead, it’s so gentle and careful, one wouldn't believe, such a beast is capable to be this soft. He is easing you into the feel of him as his hands, holding you steady. There may be no bruises, but there can still be other things, your mind has blocked, but your body remembers.

He rocks you against him, breathing in time with him, the measure of his heart a steady clip that you can follow with measured steps. He and every voice awaken thank any gods out there, for you don't tense up, squirm and run from his touch. That gives him hope, that the fucker really didn't manage to do anything.

"We will protect my little treasure." He slowly helps you out of your clothes. It's not an act of seduction, but pure manifestation of care.

"We will calm our little one, take all her worries, guard her in her sleep." Warm lips on the back of your neck. Yet again: this is not a foreplay - it is Andre giving you all the care he has. Anything soft, that he is capable of in this deep mad state of mind, belongs to you.

He takes your worries away, lulls you to sleep, interlocking his fingers with yours, buries his face in your hair, letting you drown in his deep bitterish scent and find your peace in his hands.

Nikto may be a crooked soul, a mind damaged, torn to pieces, but for you he will turn into a bastion against all the darkness in the world.

When he is sure, you're deep in your dreams and nothing bothers you anymore - Nikto vanishes for a few hours.

He rarely uses this set, but there is, in fact, an all black tactical attire in his wardrobe. There is rarely a good reason to take it on, but today is the day. Darker wet stains on black won't draw too much attention in the first lights of the dawn.

You wake in a bed that feels too empty and slowly realize, what have happened. What might have happened after you fell asleep. You wait him out, perched on the edge of your seat, watching him shuck off his gear in a deafening silence.

His mind is still out there. Each glance on you feels like he’s entered a prizefighting ring, and you’re the opponent he needs to face off with next. His jaw works, a muscle ticking, and with that particular, quiet sort of menace he’s just so good at leveraging, he holds out a hand for you to come to him. “He won't ever trouble you again.” Level. More controlled than you expected.

Nikto holds back, not letting himself slide his fingers up your arms and thus leave blood strains on your perfect skin. Never. Never should a blood of such a scum besmear his treasure.

Leave the blood of those who wronged you for his hands.

Sokrovishche - treasure

Vsye khorosho, sokrovishche - everything's allright, treasure

#cod mw2 #cod #cod modern warfare #call of duty #cod x reader #call of duty mw2 #nikto x you #nikto cod #mw2 nikto #mwii nikto #nikto fluff #nikto x reader #andre nikto #call of duty nikto #nikto #cod nikto #nikto headcanons

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atinylittlepain · 1 year ago

Text

Maybe, probably, definitely

college!steve harrington x f!oc

A continuation of Warm. Steve and Andy are keeping things casual... or maybe not.

18+ 90s au in which I fuck with the timeline, smut, two scrungly idiots in love, Robin and Eddie being Robin and Eddie, generally a fun little silly little time okay? okay.

.................................................

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

“Please, it’s so obvious.”

“I just think it’s unlikely, is all. He had like, women losing their minds over him, still does.”

“Okay, and? Have you seen the videos of him and Clarence kissing?” Easy, easy, and warm in her little corner kitchen, something steaming and savory stirring in the pot on the stove, her hip bumping against his every time she steps away and back to add a pinch or a glug of something else to the soup, making his cheeks round and pinken every time she slides half a smile his way. He laughs, shakes his head, and she pulls a face at him, pointing her wooden spoon at his chest.

“What’s so unbelievable about Bruce being bisexual?”

“Nothing, nothing, I just don’t think there’s enough evidence for or against your theory yet.”

“So you’re a Springsteen agnostic?” Two bowls and two spoons and one bowl and one spoon is for him, and how lovely, how lovely to have a place here with her, slipping into her spot in front of the stove to serve them both while she slices a few pieces of bread.

“Gonna have to see a little more evidence, honey.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll keep building my case. Robin agrees with me, you know.” He’s not sure what he makes of Andy and Robin being friends before they had even been introduced. It had caught him off guard, Andy coming with him to one of Eddie’s gigs, and her and Robin chatting with an easy familiarity. Robin had failed to mention that they’re both in some kind of feminist consciousness-raising group on campus, and have been for two years.

“Well, Robin thinks everyone’s a little gay so, I’m still not convinced.” Darkness On the Edge of Town is crackling and crooning in her cassette deck, Springsteen walking Streets of Fire, sending them both into a little sway at the counter, the light turning blue and dim in the little square window above the sink, frost filaments and threads around the edges of the panes. And the bread she’s slicing is from some friend of a friend who’s gotten into sourdough, because Andy has friends who get into sourdough, though when she pulls the loaf apart it looks more like chewed gum than bread in the middle. They make do with a few tortillas fried and folded with a fistful of cheese in a pan instead, settling down around each other with steaming bowls on the couch.

“Oh hey, Syl, hey, baby.” The baby in question is digging her claws into his pants leg and crawling up his thigh. Steve hadn’t met Sylvia until the third or fourth time he stayed over, woken up from a deep, warm sleep to something tugging at his scalp. He thought it had been Andy being a little mean in that way he likes, a halfway delirious smile spreading and bleary eyes opening and he had been very wrong, met with the sight of a creature curled up next to his face and chewing on the ends of his hair. Emphasis on the word creature, not cat, no. And when he returned to his own apartment that morning and told Robin he met Sylvia, she had promptly said oh, the ballsack cat, yeah. He was inclined to agree with her on that title, and is still inclined to agree now, watching the hairless animal’s wrinkles curl and fold as she climbs up his chest, bap, bap, bapping at his throat while Steve holds his bowl of soup overhead and out of her swiping range. Andy keeps telling him that Sylvia likes him, even as she curls her hand around the cat’s middle to peel her off him, her claws catching in his sweater and she really likes you, Stevie. Yeah, he’s not so sure about that. But Andy’s cooed Stevie softens him, just a little.

“Are you playing this weekend?”

“Yeah, just a round robin thing on Saturday with some other teams.”

“Can I come watch?

“If you want to, I don’t know if it’s gonna be that interesting though.” Andy had come to watch a few of his club basketball games last weekend, and yeah, maybe a little puff of pride in his chest, maybe hustling a little faster, maybe taking more shots. And afterward, when his team mates asked him if that was his girl cheering for him on the bleachers, he had sniffed, and pointedly informed them that she’s not a girl, she’s a woman.

“On the contrary, I think those shorts you wear are very interesting.”

“Are you objectifying me right now?” Her thumb and forefinger pinch together, smile scrunching to the side as she tries to hold in a laugh.

“What can I say, you have a very objectifiable ass.”

“I knew it, knew you just wanted me for my body.” An easy shuffle, both of them dissolving in a breath of laughter and soup bowls being set aside and Andy’s aw poor baby, how’s it feel coming out breathless as she settles her thighs around his hips, making him bark a single high note when her hands creep down his back and down into his back pockets and squeezing as best she can with her hands squished between him and the couch.

“If you rip these tights I’m never kissing you again.” His hands wandering, bunching up the dark green fabric of her dress, pretty thing that he watched flutter around her shins on the walk from class to her apartment. He palms her ass, fingers pressing greedy into the fat covered by knit brown tights, little pinch, little pull of the fabric and snapped back, making her huff at him.

“I don’t think I could if I tried. They’re fucking thick, how am I gonna get you out of these, huh?”

“It’s cold out, Steven. I need them to stay warm.” And of course, of course, if she pitches one down the middle he’s gonna swing, his grin turning smarmy as he tilts his chin up to smack a kiss to her mouth that lands more on her cheek with the way she ducks him, him mouthing into her skin I’ll keep you warm, honey.

Andy cut all her hair off recently, leaving a spiky bob that’s a little too short to be called a bob and he likes it. Before, he’d hide his face in the fan of her hair, tucking his nose into the juncture of her neck and breathing deeply. Now it’s wildly easy access to let his mouth drag up the column of her throat, making her squirm in his hands, little tug to his hair where her fingers are threaded through mean. And somewhere in the background the piano is spilling out a desperate tune and Clarence is breathing hard into his sax and Bruce is whining in that dark rasp about proving it all night, girl, I’ll prove it all night for your love and he’s humming the words into her sternum while they stumble and shrug off the couch, a small whirlwind of him rucking her dress up and up and off and she’s in nothing but that damn pair of tights, her spine curling beneath his hands when he ducks his head down and presses the open heat of his mouth over her nipple, long sigh, and another stumble up against the wall next to her bedroom door.

He’s doomed, he knows it. How badly he wants her, and when he gets her, how needy, how greedy. Got up at seven this morning to walk across campus and shovel her stoop because she had complained about nearly slipping the other day, and it was worth it when she came down still in her robe and soft an sleepy and pulled him inside to press kisses to the already red tips of his ears and his cheeks and his nose, let him sit with a warm cup of coffee and watch her roll those tights up her legs while she told him about a paper she’s writing about Jane Ussher’s conception of critical realism. He did his best to listen, to hold onto the details even as his brain wandered to the soft drop of her breasts as she leaned over herself. And it’s extra terrible, he thinks, that she seems to want him just as much, or close to it, at least, her hands slipping up under his sweater, the light scratch of her nails against his stomach, swallowing the whine that loosens in his chest when her fingers dip under the waistband of his jeans. Hands and teeth and tongues and give and take and an indignant chirp from somewhere at their feet when he steps on what he’s pretty sure was a paw, a murmured sorry ball– sorry, Sylvia when he closes the bedroom door before the cat can slip inside with them because no, not making that mistake again. And when he turns back around, he finds her standing there devastatingly smug, because she knows, she knows how freakishly foolish she has turned him, her hands on her hips and still in her tights and that little spill of softness over the waist of them and he wants to put his mouth there, there, and bite down just a little. Normal want, right? Right.

“Come here.” She says it again, quiet c’mere with her shoulder hiked up and her cheek dropped to the slope of it and he’s never saying no to that, bare feet padding and hands finding the soft spill of her waist, her hips, tugging down and down and down on his knees and he’s got her laughing with how he holds onto her ankle to help her step out of the rolled-down fabric of her tights, pressing a kiss to the notch of bone there for good measure. Being with her, around her, he finds himself doing things he would have scoffed at, things the king would have scoffed at. But she makes him feel young and dumb in that giddy, good way, new, makes him forget the rules he had made for himself to make things like this easier. There is nothing, he has realized, that has been quite like this.

For all the teasing, all the little taunts, she’s gentle where it counts. Makes him feel like something good, something real beneath her hands and her mouth, gentle when she pulls off his sweater and smooths back his hair from his face, always doing that with a kiss pressed to a temple, his brow, the crinkle that pulls next to his eye because he’s always smiling like a fool around her. And when they’re both bare, a little breathless from all the little pets, little kisses, curled around each other with her duvet tugged down around their hips because sweat is starting to build and pool in the soft hollows of their skin, they hold onto each other through the soft shake of it, hips and bellies and that sweet, simple sate. He comes with his face pressed against her heart, sweat and salt stinging his eyes and her hands holding him steady and she hums his name as a high sound in her throat, and he thinks that this could maybe, probably, definitely be called love.

“Hmm.”

“Hmm?” He can see the shadow of her smile, the streetlight outside casting a warm wash over the bed, shadows of snowfall speckled on her cheek.

“Should probably get a shower.”

“Probably.” Even as he says it he’s pulling her closer, her feet hooked around his ankles, bare chest to bare chest and her hands tucked under his arms, thumbs brushing down the rungs of his ribs, sweat cooling a little humid, the beat of their hearts lulling slow in the aftermath.

“I don’t have class in the morning, do you?”

“At eleven, macroeconomics.”

“How bleak, gonna solve the debt crisis?”

“For you, I’ll try.”

“Oh please, Steve, you can’t just say stuff like that.” Little shove to his chest, though he just holds her tighter.

“Why not?”

“You’re gross. We’re gross.”

“The grossest, honey.”

“I like that.”

“What, being gross?”

“No, you calling me honey, I like that. No one’s called me that before, it’s cute.” He likes the feeling of the soft, melting line of her body pressed snug against his, her words breathed out on a sigh somewhere between sleep and not.

“Noted, honey.”

“You’re such a dick, Do you wanna do breakfast in the morning?” A quiet mmhmm, mmhmm? mmhmm from both of them. Sleep, he finds, comes easily like this.

And in the morning, they wake up in a different tangle, both on their stomachs, her arm slung between his shoulder blades and his hand curled around her hip. They move with half-opened eyes and hoarse voices, hot shower and cool bathroom tiles and he’ll just wear his clothes from yesterday to class, he doesn’t care. But she still offers him a clean sweatshirt from that co-op she said she worked at freshman year (don’t laugh, Steven, I had free produce for months) and he puts it on, leaves the hood up to smell more of her while he watches her move around her kitchen from the little table tucked into the corner of the room. Sylvia pads over, sniffs at his bare feet and licks his pinky toe before clawing up the leg of his jeans with her front paws, stretching out and peering up at him. He gives her a cursory pat between her ears, and she doesn’t seem to care for that, a low rumbling noise that sounds like a complaint as she pushes off of his leg and slinks over to settle on the arm of the couch.

“I have this leftover pumpkin bread, do you want some?” Said over her shoulder while she stirs eggs in a pan, her jeans half-unbuttoned and the hem of her sweater rolled up to expose the bare round of her hip. And it’s a simple thought, but it’s true, he likes looking at her.

“Is it from the friend who got into sourdough?”

“Be nice, she just started. And no, it’s from that bakery we went to last weekend.” And so there’s scrambled eggs with sharp cheese, how he likes them, and chopped peppers, how she likes them, and strong coffee, how they both like it, and a heel of pumpkin bread just starting to go stale that they make easy work of, breaking off pieces and dipping it into their coffee, quiet and their knees brushing with how close they are on chairs tucked into her small table.

He leaves her place with a warm stomach and a swimming mind and the kiss she pressed to his cheek still blooming heat even in the snap of snow and cold. And whatever the professor lectures about in his eleven o’clock class is lost to him, sorry, he’s there but not there. There but still in the doorway of her apartment, and her all but shooing him off because I made you breakfast, that’s enough domesticity for the day, mean but not meaning it. He’d linger in her doorway all day if she let him, he thinks, fail all his classes, be presumed dead to the world, and he’d probably enjoy doing it.

“What’s wrong with you?” Robin in the kitchen when he gets back to their apartment, dipping a banana directly into the peanut butter jar, and he doesn’t have enough of a mind to scold her for it.

“Nothing’s wrong with me.”

“Where’d you get that sweatshirt? Is it new? I haven’t seen it before.”

“It’s Andy’s.”

“Oh, that’s what’s wrong with you. Did you sleep over? I didn’t hear you come home last night. How is your lady friend?” A waggle of her eyebrows as she pockets her last bite of banana in her cheek. He tries to side step her, and she mimes his movement easy enough, blocking his exit from their kitchen, her grin spreading.

“Rob, please, I have a paper I need to–”

“Oh, oh, I know that look.” And before he can ask her what she means by that she’s already shouting down the hall for Eddie because emergency family meeting is needed in the kitchen, thank you very much.

“What’s going on?” Easier to ride this out, to let Robin tug him into the living room and sit him down, Eddie on her heels.

“Steve’s in love.”

“What? Robin–”

“Wait, with cool girl? Fuck, what’s her name again?”

“This is seriously none of your business, and–”

“Andy, with the boots, you met her last week.”

“We’re both casual, it’s casual, it’s a casual–”

“That’s right. I like her. Good work, Steven, you somehow found someone normal and cool this time. Remember that last chick?”

“Hey–”

“With the hair?”

“She was–”

“And that perfume, woof.”

“Andy isn’t–”

“I’m pretty sure she was eating my leftovers out of the fridge, you know.”

“I’m not–”

“No, really? Wouldn’t put it past her, that girl was—”

“Are you two done yet?” Mercifully, it’s enough to get them to stop their little back and forth, mouths shutting and faces turning to look at him like twin imps.

“You’re in love, Steve, and before you say something like ugh Robin, no I’m not, ugh Robin, how could you possibly know that, I know these things, okay?”

“I don’t talk like that.” Eddie taps in, Robin standing smug with her arms crossed over her chest.

“She’s right, man, you’ve been kinda, well, yeah.”

“What does that mean?” And what follows is another volley between his wretched roommates, Steve somewhere in the middle, dumbstruck.

“Sighing around the apartment like a kicked dog.”

“Getting snitty when you’re about to leave for one of your dates.”

“You smile like a freak when she’s around. Like a creepy, beautiful, vaguely Germanic doll.”

“You talk about her all the time. Like, all the time.”

“You’re in love, man.”

“Indubitably so.”

“Hey, I say congrats, I actually like this one. Rob?”

“I concur, bring her for dinner, this family meeting is adjourned.” Just like that, Robin rubbing her hands together in one loud clap and Steve doesn't even have a chance to get a word in edgewise, both her and Eddie already in their coats and their shoes and out the door because they both have class in twenty and bye, loverboy. He’s left on the couch in something close to a stupor.

Maybe, probably, definitely he thinks. Though he’s not going to admit that to Robin or Eddie. God forbid they get one right.

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #steve harrington au #steve harrington one shot

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frostyblustar · 6 months ago

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Wanderlust’s portals are finicky when he’s drunk.

Wanderlust stumbled over to Jack’s side, his arm flinging over his shoulders to hold himself up. He had been invited to a party in Dancity that had a plus one option, he had chosen Jack. The other coach needed to get out more, in his opinion, and Wanderlust wanted to see him more.

A smirk danced on his lips and he leaned his head on Jack. “Having fun?” His voice was slurred, but understandable even with all the background noise around them.

Jack hesitated to respond for a moment, crossing his arms and mumbling in Wanderlust’s ear. His breath tickled, and Wanderlust had to stop himself from giggling. “My feet are starting to kill me after dancing for so long. Honestly, I want to get out of here.”

Wanderlust frowned, picking his head up to look at Jack in the eyes. “Overwhelmed?”

“People keep wanting to talk to me and it’s terribly difficult to deal with.” Jack shrugged and continued to keep his voice lowered, “Don’t understand wh-“

“‘Course they wanna talk to you! You’re really hot.” He leaned onto the hot guy’s side, realizing he had spoken loudly. No one around them seemed to mind though, the party continued on. Jack’s pale face revealed his blush clear as day as he elbowed Wanderlust lightly in the stomach.

The comment had shocked Jack, but he recovered quickly. “You’re drunk so I’m not going to be taking your comments seriously.”

“I’m bein’ serious!” Wanderlust whined as he looked at Jack, who was seemingly disinterested. It reminded him of when his mom didn’t want to put up with his shenanigans, a stern expression. “But… Okay.” He pulled himself off of Jack. “Yeah, I’ll portal us back to my place.”

Opening portals only took a bit of effort, the real work had to be put into focusing on where that portal would lead to. He had never tried to use this ability when drunk, but he didn’t think of that fact at all in the moment.

Wanderlust stretched out a hand and watched the portal form. He took a confident stride towards it before a hand grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Wander. That’s not the hotel.” Jack was right, on the other side was an active volcano. “Close it!!”

Right, yeah he should do that.

He quickly snapped the portal shut, watching it close like some automatic sliding doors at Dancity’s mall would. Jack had moved his hand away from Wanderlust’s arm but was now resting it on his shoulder.

“Should I try again?” He stretched out the last syllable of the sentence.

Jack licked his lips before replying, “Your call, but be prepared to close it this time.” His tone was stern and his stance guarded, but Wanderlust paid no mind. He was starting to find it difficult to not sway along to the music instead of standing normally.

It was time to try again after Jack had given him the go ahead, and he attempted to open another portal. As soon as Jack saw what it was this time, he was even more frantic. “Close it! Close it man!” Wanderlust had somehow opened a portal in a random hallway in Night Swan tower.

The son of Night Swan had recently ran away, it was no wonder he would panic upon seeing the halls of his old home. Wanderlust quickly closed the portal, “One more try! C’mon Jack let me try one more time!” If Jack looked hesitant to let Wanderlust try again before, he sure looked downright afraid to let him now.

“One more time it is!” He outstretched his hand again before he felt Jack grab onto it, wrapping his hand around Wanderlust’s to push it down. Wanderlust gasped in shock and almost stumbled forward with the force and him being drunk. “Dude that’s dangerous! You shouldn’t touch something that’s emitting magic, that includes my hands!”

Even while drunk, he had been woken up from his more delirious side by the shock. Jack moved his hand off, quickly apologizing. “Sorry, sorry. Maybe you should drink some water? Eat something? Just sober up a bit before trying again.” Wanderlust pouted, but Jack’s solutions sounded reasonable.

He ended up agreeing, and Wanderlust sat down with Jack near a corner on a plush couch. The food at the party was pretty basic, stuff like crackers and cheese, he ate it quickly though. After Jack admitting he was uncomfortable, he wanted to get them home as soon as possible. Jack didn’t deserve to feel that way.

They must have sat there for a while. When someone would approach, Wanderlust would make small talk but give them small polite indications that he wanted to be alone with his friend. Jack seemed appreciative, and even let Wanderlust lean onto his side again.

He was content like this, but he noticed how Jack was shifting around and how his leg would bounce. “Think I can try again now?” Jack nodded to him, and Wanderlust popped up to standing. He stretched his arms out above him, and his back appreciated it.

Hand out, he tried to make a portal again. Finally, Jack didn’t seem afraid. He stood up next to Wanderlust with a small smile, “Finally, that’s your room.” It was, and Wanderlust took a stride forward. Jack let out a small gasp, “Wait, Wander-“

Wanderlust had already stepped into the portal, and fell on the carpet from a few feet in the air. He groaned softly before picking himself up, he needed to adjust the portal to be at the ground level. For some reason, his portal had attached itself to the ceiling. Using some extra magic, he was able to adjust the portal to be open at the ground level. Jack then stepped through.

He was smirking, “That was kind of humorous to see, though I did get scared you fell on your head for a moment.” Wanderlust snorted and took Jack’s hand, closing the portal with his other. He led him over to the bed, their day was at a close now.

“Thanks for joining me Jack. As always, you were amazing company.”

#just dance fanfic #jack rose x wanderlust #i wanted to write something short #wanderrose #just dance #wanderlust jd #wanderlust just dance #oneshot #jd wanderlust #jd jack rose

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ladyluscinia · 1 year ago

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hi i had something i was confused about and i was wondering if you could help! so when izzy shoots himself in the head, does he do it with the intention of killing himself except he misses? or does he purposely trick ed? genuinely i couldn’t figure out what they were trying to imply there, and you are a literal god at meta analysis, so i thought i’d ask :)

Anon that is a great question and I have thoughts.

Short answer: I have watched that scene several times now and I'm still not 100% on what's going down there!

Now for the long answer... 🤔

I am confident that Izzy puts the gun to his head with intention. He's not trying to trick Edward - not in the least because I don't think he's mentally there enough to think ahead. Izzy just got abruptly woken up post-amputation for one of the most emotionally fraught conversations of his life. The guy is probably delirious from bloodloss, pain, and hopefully something he was given for the pain (though since Frenchie's first aid kit didn't make it down... maybe not 😬).

I think he's there enough to put together that his last ditch attempt to pull Edward out of all this failed. To feel the frankly overwhelming emotional snarl of anger / distress / love that gets him to point the gun at Edward and then send him away. He's laying in that bed realizing horribly that fucked doesn't begin to cover it and Edward is going to spiral further and further until he dies, but I doubt he feels like he can DO anything about it - even if he wasn't freshly down a leg.

That's why he lifts the gun. That's why Edward isn't surprised to hear it fire.

But why doesn't it hit?

So I have two equally plausible theories. I'm figuring they are going to have to circle back to two of their main three characters attempting suicide on screen, so Izzy will probably say something in the future that narrows it down. (For now, I personally prefer the second one.)

So, Theory #1 is that Izzy survived purely on accident. Or by fate. You can see his hand drop and the gun slip upward just before he pulls the trigger. As previously established, my guy is going through it mentally and physically. It is fully within the realm of possibility that he didn't have the strength to keep his hand steady and it saved his life while knocking him out instead. Then later he wakes up and (probably still somewhat delirious) decides that apparently life isn't done with him yet and he needs to go put a stop to whatever murder-suicide Edward is trying to enact.

Theory #2 is that - at the last second - Izzy changed his mind.

Thematically this is interesting. There's a post going around about how even in the darkest depths Edward still has a spark of himself that wants to live, and parallels this with Stede getting confronted "Do you want to live?!?" in S1. I can't endorse this post because the author is an Izzy hater who sidebars in the middle to go "btw this is all Izzy's fault, the evil bastard" but it's an interesting parallel. Especially if you take a sympathetic read of Izzy also going to pull the trigger into account.

Maybe Edward and Izzy (and Stede) want to live just a little more than they want to die, even when the situation seems unbearable. Maybe Edward's drive manifests in giving the crew chance after chance to stop him when they could never stop a bullet in the middle of the night, and in trying to untie the ropes even before he hears Stede waiting for him, and Izzy's...?

Well, maybe Izzy's drive manifests in jerking the gun down just before it fires.

#our flag means death #izzy hands ofmd #ofmd meta #ofmd s2 #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd 2x02 #tw suicide #ask #anon #ladyluscinia

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oblivious-idiot · 2 years ago

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Marker Mayhem

Lockwood and Co Appreciation Week: Day One - Favourite Main Trio Character Summary: You find Lockwood asleep in the living room from waiting up for you but your delirious state gets a bit carried away with your permanent marker.

AN: This is for day one of the Lockwood and Co Appreciation Week! Lockwood is probably my favourite character but only by a smidge haha. I love how he can be so protective of George and Lucy while also being a reckless dickhead lol. Pairings: Anthony Lockwood x Reader

Word count: 800~

Warnings: just some fluff and hysterical laughter

When arriving back home to 35 Portland Row it was late in the evening and way past curfew. You'd spent the past few days up north visiting your family but you train back to London was delayed, meaning you got home much later than expected. You made sure to enter the house as quietly as you could so you wouldn't wake any of your housemates, knowing they all could do with as much undisturbed rest as possible.

Once you had taken all your stuff back up to your room and gotten changed you headed back downstairs to make yourself a cup of tea, only to notice the living room light dimly glowing from underneath the door. Slowly opening the door, your tired eyes fell upon the sleeping body of your best friend - and crush, Anthony Lockwood. His body had slightly slid down in his armchair, a magazine sprawled across his chest which he'd clearly tried to read to keep himself awake, drool starting to form on the edge of his mouth. You couldn't help but quietly giggle at his sleepy state and you decided that you should probably get him up to bed. But first you had another idea in mind.

You scoured the kitchen draws until you came across what you were looking for, a permanent marker. He was going to absolutely hate you for this but you were starting to get delirious from your long day that you simply didn't care, it was going to be too funny. Plus, when were you going to get another chance like this again? Lockwood looked like he never slept so it was probably unlikely.

Creeping back into the living room where Lockwood was softly snoring in his chair, you uncapped the pen in your hands with a mischievous grin on your lips. Suppressing your laughter, you slowly and softly drew on Lockwood's face - first just an intricate moustache, but then you moved on to horns and other squiggles around his eyes and chin. What's more, Lockwood smarted to smile when you drew around his lips and temple, which made your face so red from holding in your sniggers. Once you were happy with your completed work you stepped out of the room to get yourself a drink of water and let yourself breathe steady, letting your face turn back to a normal colour.

It was getting late and you realised it was probably due time to wake Lockwood up so he could get some actual rest. "Hey Anthony, it's time to go to bed" you say to him softly as you stroked his hair, making him slowly wake up as he stretched out his arms, looking at you once he opened his eyes. "Oh you're back, thank goodness I was getting worried..." he looked around the dark room and then back to your face "what time is it?" giving you a puzzled look. "Way past your bedtime, come on let's go upstairs" you say as you pull him up from his chair. You lead Lockwood upstairs into his room, guiding him to his bed and away from his mirror so he didn't have time to see the drawings on his face.

The next morning you were in the kitchen with George and Lucy before Lockwood had woken up, but the next thing you heard was Lockwood's voice shouting from within his room "whAT THE-" and then rapid footsteps racing down the stairs. George and Lucy exchanged confused glances while you remembered what happened last night. Suddenly Lockwood swung the kitchen door open, still wearing his clothes from the night before and his face covered in slightly smudged pen "Alright, which one of you three did this!?" his voice mildly angry, breaking halfway through his sentence, eyes darting between the three of you in the room.

George and Lucy both broke down into laughter as soon as Lockwood came in the room "oh I thought it was something serious" Lucy said through snorted laughter, "it suits you quite well actually, really brings out your eyes" George adds in with a smirk. You were trying so hard to not laugh, your artwork looking so much more funny the day after, but because of your suppressed laughter Lockwood shot you a look "it was you.." "I'm sorry, I was really tired, I don't even remember doing it" you held up your hands in defence, laughter escaping your lips. "You don't remember!? Y/n look at my face!" he said, clearly in disbelief "I waited up for you to come home, I was worried, and this is what I get in return??" Lockwood continued, but you couldn't meet his eyes, you couldn't take him seriously looking like that. "I- I'm sorry" you force out amongst your hysterical giggles "I'll help you clean up, I promise" "I would bloody well hope so." Lockwood finally heaved out, finally letting himself laugh about the whole situation.

#allie writes #lockwood & co #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood and co imagines #lucy carlyle #george karim #l&coaw2023

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dreamerofvalyria · 2 years ago

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Uncle Tiger | König x F!Reader | Part 1.

Summary: You've come down with a frightful illness and König is left to fend for himself with the children. Luckily for him, Horangi comes to the rescue. Will the two be able to manage without you?

Notes: A continuation of One Surprise, Two Surprise & Negotiations and Defeats. There will be a second part to this fic, I just didn't want it to get too long. Would people actually be interested in a proper series rather than just random snippets?

Pairing: König x F!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Illness.

Series Masterlist: Here

CoD Masterlist: Here

First | Prev | Next

König had been planning for today to be a fun day for you. A comfortable morning of nothing but sleeping in, cuddled up with him and not needing to worry about getting up to feed the twins. He had already defrosted some bottles of your manually expressed milk in advance, so he could feed them without disturbing you.

Later in the day, you would head out into the city to meet up with your friends for lunch, introducing them to Lukas and Anna for the first time while König would remain at home to catch up on some of the housework that the both of you had begun to fall behind on. Afterwards, while you enjoy an afternoon of retail therapy, he would spend it catching up with Horangi.

Unfortunately, life has recently decided that it doesn’t care what König has planned.

You had woken up with the worst sore throat you can remember, struggling to so much as breathe without it feeling like sandpaper is being scraped down your throat. Every cough that tears through you has your body shaking violently, causing you to curl in on yourself with weak whimpers. A fierce fever has left you delirious, refusing to do anything but curl into König’s side, leeching the heat from his massive body.

It had physically pained him to pry your arms off of him so he could get up and feed the little ones, abandoning you to a rapidly cooling bed. He does his best to be quick so he can return with some water, medicine and a mug of warm tea.

After ensuring that you’ve downed both the painkillers and a full glass of water, König offers you another blanket, tucking you in tightly. There’s nothing he would prefer to do then climb back into bed with you and let you bury your snotty face into the crook of his neck, drooling all over him like you had been doing earlier. But he can’t risk catching whatever illness you have, not with the potential of passing it on to Lukas or Anna.

“Is there anything else I can grab for you, liebling?” König asks quietly, half out of the door.

You simply groan at him, burying further into the pillow under you with a huff.

König gives a tiny laugh at the dramatics but decides to allow you to rest. He’ll check in on you again routinely, but for now he needs to focus on the two babies starting to whine from their nursery. The two little ones are laying in their shared bassinet again, grumbling at one another due to the lack of attention from their parents.

Anna lights up when she sees her father, squealing in excitement. Her little arms flail and her legs kick out, cooing up at him and trying to reach out with grabby fingers. “Hallo, Anna,” König hums, offering one of his hands to the little girl. She grabs onto it, pulling it close to her chest so she can nuzzle her soft face against the rough calluses.

Her brother just blinks at the two of them, accepting the hand König offers to him but barely paying it any mind. He’s always been much more interested in watching what his sister is doing than attempting to do things himself, entirely enthralled with the way Anna giggles while inspecting their father’s fingers.

Lukas reaches out one of his own hands to try and grab the hand Anna is currently playing with, uninterested in König’s other hand. He wants the hand Anna has, not a different one. He starts to whine when he’s unable to steal it from her, kicking out in annoyance while his eyes start to fill with tears at this terribly cruel treatment.

Anna stares her brother in the eyes, before shoving König’s hand in her mouth, gumming at one of his fingers.

König attempts to calm Lukas by gently tickling the boy’s stomach, desperate to draw his attention before the child can start screaming. “Look, you have a hand right here,�� he tries, waving it in the boy’s face. In a last-ditch effort to stop this from devolving into tears, he pulls his hand from Anna and offers it to Lukas.

The relief he gets from seeing his son’s face light up is short lived as almost immediately Anna shrieks. Her chubby little hands start grasping for the hand unfairly stolen from her clutches, fat tears already rolling down her cheeks. “No no no, you can have this hand here, liebe,” he sighs, watching as the tiny girl swats at his hand, only wanting the one Lukas now has.

Hostage negotiation was easier than keeping these two content.

He eventually settles on moving both children from their crib and into the living room so that he can hopefully get some housework done while keeping them somewhat entertained. The two baby rockers you had invested in have been nothing short of a godsent, providing somewhere safe and comfortable for them to rest while you and König run around the house.

Lukas enjoys sitting in the rocker, more than happy to relax and simply watch the world around him, waiting patiently for one of his parents to provide him with some attention. Anna, on the other hand, would quickly grow bored, whining and wriggling about to try and catch someone’s gaze. More often than not, Lukas will be playing with the brightly coloured toys attached to the rocker, while Anna excitedly squeals at her mother and father.

Unfortunately, both babies seem to be able to sense something is amiss and are determined to make it impossible for König to get anything done. The moment he tries to step away one of them will burst into tears, screaming and sobbing and flailing about until he comes back again.

Anna was particularly bad – always being the more social of the two – shrieking until her face was bright red and her little voice had grown hoarse. In the end, only three dishes are washed and two of them dried, before König has to give in and scoop the little girl up again. She immediately calms upon seeing her dad again, offering him her signature gummy smile when she’s lifted up and pressed against his chest.

With a sigh, König sits down on the carpet, letting Anna rest her back against him as she sits in his lap. She’s having her own little conversation in baby-talk, one of her tiny fists gripping at the soft material of his pants. Occasionally, she will squeal at her brother, trying to draw him into her very important discussion.

The morning is otherwise quiet, with only the soft sound of birds chattering just outside the window and König is hopeful that you’re getting some peaceful rest now that the little ones are somewhat content. The temperature has recently been much warmer in the past few weeks and the countryside seems to have sprung back to life, filling the world with newborn animals and vibrant flowers.

It is the perfect weather for spending time outside on the grass. The outdoors is a favourite of Lukas, the little boy obsessed with the beautiful bulbs that have recently bloomed in the backyard. He grows most upset whenever König stops him from shoving any of the various plants into his mouth, staring at him like he’s just been insulted.

Sadly, it seems that getting some fresh air recently hadn’t done you much good, judging by how ill you are.

After a few hours have passed and they’ve had some playtime on the carpet, König sets the two babies back down again for a nap. He has the chance to check in on you again, making you down some more medication and another glass of water to ensure you’re still hydrated. You had barely touched the tea and it had long since grown cold.

He brings you a fresh one, gently encouraging you up into a sitting position after stacking several pillows behind you to ensure you’re as comfortable as possible.

“How are the babies?” You weakly choke out, voice scratchy and raw. You’re forced to take a sip of your tea to stop yourself from coughing too much when the irritation at the back of your throat continues to get worse.

König perches himself on the end of the bed, wishing he could crawl closer to you, but settling for gently resting a hand on your leg. “They’re having a nap right now, but they’ll be due for feeding soon.”

You nod, unable to really respond and instead sipping at your tea in silence. Despite the pain you’re in, it’s a comfortable silence that follows, you simply resting, battling against the urge to fall asleep while König simply offers silent support.

A knock on the door breaks the moment and König gently pets your knee, “ah, that will probably be Horangi,” he hums, visibly cringing. In all honesty he’d completely forgotten to tell his friend that their fun day together would have to be put on hold. “Will you be okay, mein Vögelchen?” he asks softly, reaching out to gently take the mug from your hands as it was beginning to droop dangerously in your sleepy state.

He hears you mumble something, but you’re clearly about to drift off. After placing your mug down on the bedside table, he moves your body so that you’re laying down buried under the covers.

König closes the bedroom door as quietly as possible, before rushing toward the front door, just as another knock rings out. The sound is particularly loud in the quiet house and König holds his breath, praying that the children haven’t been disturbed. It’s all silent for several long seconds, only for the inevitable sound of sobbing to come from the nursery down the hall.

With a sigh, König deflates a little, reaching to unlatch the chain keeping the front door closed and pulling the door open.

“Hey König,” Horangi offers him a relaxed grin – or at least König assumes it’s a grin, it’s difficult to tell for sure with the mask covering the lower half of his face – sliding off his sunglasses, Horangi is about to step inside, when he pauses, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Is that your kids? I thought they were going to be out with the missus?”

“She isn’t my wife... yet,” König mumbles, knowing the tips of his ears are probably bright red. He knows he always gets so flustered whenever the discussion turns to his relationship with you, blushing like a teenager talking about his first crush.

Horangi just snickers at him as he’s led closer to the sound of crying, “König. Buddy. That woman adores you, lives in your house, looks after your grandmother while you’re away and has had your children.”

“Ja, I know, I know,” König huffs, picking at his fingernails. He would love to marry you, but the thought of actually having to propose? That’s enough to set every single one of his nerves alight. He doesn’t doubt you would agree to it, not with how many times you’ve proven how dedicated you are to your relationship with him, but anxiety is a cruel beast.

He forces himself to shake off the thoughts, finally answering his friend’s question. “Unfortunately, she is quite sick at the moment, so we will be watching the children while she rests. If... If that’s alright with you, of course, I know you came here so we could game, bu-”

Horangi quickly cuts his nervous rambling short by waving his hand, unbothered. “Relax, I’m sure we can play another time. I was far more interested in meeting my niece and nephew anyway,” he grins, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Your niece and nephew?” König asks, chuckling.

“We are brothers in all but blood, no?” the man hums, “that makes your family my family.”

When they reach the nursery, König can clearly see that Anna is the one creating all the racket, little arms flailing about to ensure her displeasure is known. He picks up Lukas first, handing him off to Horangi before gently shushing the girl when he leans over the cradle again, scooping her up and automatically starting to bounce her up and down.

Horangi accepts the small boy from him, leaning Lukas back so he can rest comfortably against his arm, staring up at him. “Annyeong, Lukas,” Horangi coos, lowering his mask so he can offer the young child a smile, “I’m your keunappa.” The baby is entirely unperturbed by the large gash on the side of the man’s face, blinking up at him with a curious coo.

König can’t help smiling slightly when Lukas starts chattering away to Horangi, tiny hands playing with the mask hanging in front of him. “Lukas isn’t usually so talkative, especially with strangers,” he admits, happy that the boy is comfortable with being held by Horangi.

“That’s because I’m his favourite samchon,” the other man offers König a toothy grin, clearly very pleased with himself.

König snorts, rolling his eyes, “Hong-jin, you’re his only uncle.”

Horangi simply sniffs, indignant. “Good, then there will be no doubt that I am clearly the best.”

He laughs a little harder at that, genuinely touched that Horangi seems to be so invested in his honourary niece and nephew. “Well, I’m glad you like them both already,” he grins, brushing a kiss over the top of Anna’s head, “I’m sure we’ll be just fine looking after them on our own.”

And just like that, König manages to jinx everything.

#writing #call of duty modern warfare #könig call of duty #konig x you #konig x y/n #konig x reader #horangi call of duty #kim horangi hong jin

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munsonsreputation · 2 years ago

Note

hi kay my love!!! congrats on 500 followers! as per usual, i have a request… a noah and steve request!

"I'll keep the nightmares at bay; just rest for now; I got you, I'll be here when you wake up." — you’re very anxious with uni exams and you decide to call steve. it’s middle of the night and for a second he thinks you’re in trouble, but then you explain you can’t sleep and when you do, you have nightmares. when you hang up, steve drives to your house (maybe the fic starts here) and tries to sneak in, but Noah can’t keep his presence a secret. you ask Steve what he’s doing, fluffy talk and he sleeps with you

do your magic, i bet it’s gonna be amazing. love you 💙

hey effie!!

my apologies that this took so long but i hope i did it justice!!! thank you so much for all the love and support that you give to me daily!!! our friendship means so much to me and i hope you love this!! 💘💘💘

The luminous green light from the clock sitting on your desk scorched your eyes. It was nearly three in the morning and you were more than exhausted. On the verge of a mental breakdown, actually.

You had been studying for your university exam for hours. Ass glued to your desk chair and eyes boring holes into the textbook and notes you’d been flipping through. Your sweet dog Noah, fast asleep on the floor beside your feet, as he kept you company while you studied.

You wished you could be fast asleep as well.

You were tired.

So. very. tired.

But you couldn’t find it in yourself to get up.

These exams weighed heavily on your grade and you couldn’t risk missing any points. You had worked so hard to ace these final exams so that you could finally enjoy a break and get this whole thing over with.

But you didn’t know your limits, or at least were horrible at setting those boundaries with yourself. You tended to overwork yourself, and tonight was one of those instances. You wished Steve was here to scold you and tell carry you into bed, but of course you had convinced him that you would be alright and wouldn’t overdo it.

But here you were almost in tears, delirious as you reached your phone and dialed in the numbers you remembered by heart with salty drops already falling down your cheeks as you heard the rings.

“H-hello?” He had just woken up, clearly by the cracking and hoarseness in his voice.

Immediately, you sobbed, loud sniffles cutting in from the other side of the line that got Steve springing up from his bed and wide awake.

“S-steve,” your voice cracked, your sobs getting louder as you wiped your tears, “I—I need you.”

He threw the sheets off his body, shoulder keeping the phone glued to his ears as he tried to search for a shirt to throw on. He caught the time on his clock, immediately even more concerned now considering the hour that you were supposed to be asleep, but instead here you were crying to him over the phone where he could do nothing but let the worse come to mind.

Did someone get into your house?

Did you have a nightmare?

Was something bothering you?

Were you hurt?

Fuck! If you were hurt, then he needed to hurry.

“What going on? Baby—talk to me, are you hurt?”

Mentally. Totally.

Your brained was fried.

You shook your head as if he could see you, swallowing the hiccups that forced itself out, “No, I’m not hurt…I just need you, Steve.”

You heard a little more rustling in the background, before it became clearer, “I’ll be right over, just give me a few minutes, doll.”

“Okay…drive safe, please.” You said softly, trying to calm your crying as you knew help was on the way in no time.

The jingling of his keys was the last thing you heard before his voice, “Always, babe. See you soon.”

You hung up the phone, taking a deep breath as you closed your eyes. The tears still spilling, yet you seemed to get it a bit under control, focusing on the notes on your desk. Attempting to read off the last few bullet points through your blurry eyes, which was absolutely ridiculous, but you were never one to give up so easily.

Your crying had progressed so much that Noah had woken up. Cuddled up by your legs as you reached down with one hand, attempting to comfort him and let him know that you were ok, even though you knew your doggie could feel that you weren’t.

This seemed to be the only time tonight where you tore your eyes away from the pages, but it wasn’t until you heard the key turn in the doorway that you felt like getting up from your desk chair. It was only a few moments later where Steve slowly turned the knob to your bedroom door, staring at you with concern in the doorway.

or the first time that night, you got up from your seat.

The second Steve got into your bedroom he knew you’d be crying once again. You always softened up when he was around, like he was your safe space. And he was so very grateful that you picked him as a safe space.

And he was right, hearing your soft sniffles, and how you sneaked your hand up to your cheek to wipe your cheeks, “Baby…”

You turned slowly towards him, immediately walking into his chest where he had his arms held out, before engulfing you in his cages. You cried into his t-shirt, soaking the fabric with your tears, fingers tightening around his back where you held onto him for dear life.

His eyes scanned around the room, eyes drawn to the mess on your desk filled with scattered pens and papers. Noah had also gone back to his usual spot, knowing that he was around and would make sure that you were ok for the rest of the night. Suddenly, it became clear that studying was what got you here. He had spoken to you over the phone a few hours ago, just before he went to bed around eleven. You had told him you’d only be studying for a half an hour more and then you’d get to beauty sleep.

Of course you didn’t.

“Honey, shhh, you gotta take a deep breath.” He guided your head away enough so he could see you.

Mimicking breathing for you to follow as he clutched your cheeks and thumbed away the tears ever if they didn’t stop anytime soon.

“I—I’m sorry,” you whimpered, tightly shutting your eyes, feeling so embarrassed for waking him and making him come all the way here.

“Hey, no, none of that.” His lips met your forehead, pecking the skin and grounding you. “don’t apologize, I’m so glad you called me.”

Your eyes opened, meeting his brown orbs that looked down at you, “You just gotta talk to me, doll…tell me what’s going on?”

He reached behind him, unwrapping your hands from him and holding yours in his hands, where he led you towards your bed. Honestly, your bed never felt so comfortable than right now. The blankets and pillows cushioning you as Steve pulled the sheets back and led you in. You watched him for a second; him toeing off his shoes before getting into bed beside you.

His arms wrapped across your midsection, slotting himself against you where you felt the most safe and comfortable, “I—I’m so scared of failing….I’ve been studying for hours and no matter how hard I try to get the stupid concept...I just don’t…”

Your voice failed the rest of the sentence, instead the words just slowly crumbling with you as you held on tighter to Steve.

He felt the urgency and anxiety in your hold, knowing this feeling all to well since it had happened before, “Sweet girl, you’ve gotta get some rest, you’re killing yourself over this and it’s not good for you.”

“But…but finals is in a few days and if I don’t—”

He squeezed you a little firmer, cutting off your sentence as he laid a kiss on top of your forehead. “But nothing.” Steve started, staring at you through the pale moonlight with softness and firmness laced in his voice.

“I’ll keep it all at bay for the night, and I need you to rest for now,” his gentle fingers brushing back your tear soaked hair away from your face, “I got you, and I’ll be here in the morning then we can figure this all out together ok?”

Again, sniffles filled the room for a short while, as you didn’t know if you could speak of your gratefulness without breaking out into sobs again. There was just something so endearing and comforting about Steve being here for you in moments like these. Even if the stress and anxiety was all in your head, he always knew how to ground you and keep you from diving deeper into the negative feelings.

“I love you.” You whispered faintly, closing your eyes and digging your face deeper into his chest where you felt the safest from your worries and thoughts.

You could feel his smile as he whispered it back to you, “I love you more,” and his arms never daring to unwrap from your body, keeping you safe from the nightmares of what could have been.

That even if there was a chance that tomorrow could be a repeat of tonight, that he’d be here. He always would and he would never let you go through it alone.

leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!!

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @fckthtgetmoney @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24

#munsonsreputation #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington stranger things #steve x y/n #steve x reader #steve stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things

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letmedownslows · 11 months ago

Text

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight, unable to recall ever having seen him so disarmed before. His chest rising and falling with each gentle breath. It was a brutal thing, to see someone so themselves. To see what they might’ve been like if they’d been left completely unbruised and unburdened. It wasn’t something you allowed yourself to linger on for long.

i don't have words i just loved it. this is fucking poetry, girl.

Theo gazed up at you through lidded eyes. Unsure if he had truly woken up, or if the dream he yearned for each night had finally come to visit him. His hand encircling your wrist surely, ensuring you would stay right where you were. Right where you were supposed to be.

HE DREAMED OF HER I'M GOING INSANE

He held it out for you, easing it over your arms, your head. Enveloping you in something that was so completely his; the way he wanted you to be. Hands lingering at the sweater’s edges with sincerity, pulling it down until he knew you would be warm.

this is me if you even care 👇👇👇

You smiled at the unexpectedness, settling back into the couch, his hands steering you back. Head lolling against the cushions as your eyes found his, the way they always did. He looked back at you with equal surrender.

*crazy fangirl noises*

“You’re reading about me,” you whispered. Eyes delirious under the candlelight, drinking him in. Softness spilling through your chest.

“Trying to. I like to be familiar with my favourite topics,” his shy smile grew. Head sinking further into the couch as he turned to face you properly. Watched you for a moment; the cold sting of wind across your cheeks thawing at his words. His usually guarded eyes faltered.

theodore nott. that's it.

“You don’t know that,” you countered, looking down at your hands. The way his fingers danced across the top of yours. How you reached for his even when you wished you wouldn’t.

the yearning, how sweet

He could see how afraid you were; for him, of yourself, losing the both of you along the way. Every jagged edge that was keeping you away from him. How deeply your care ran. He knew it then; that he would follow you down there, of his own accord. Even if it was foolish, even if it doomed him. He wouldn’t close his eyes, he wouldn’t struggle. Not if it meant his last breath would be yours to keep.

HOW DO YOU WRITE THIS AND HAVE THE AUDACITY TO TELL ME THAT THE CHAPTER IS BAD???!!!

“Then it will be my mistake to make,” he decided. One hand leaving yours, reaching to tuck a loose strand of damp hair behind your ear. Relishing in the way you hugged his sweater tight to your bones. “You can’t decide if I get to love you,” his eyes didn’t dare stray from yours, “I've already made up my mind.”

OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHH (i still don't know if this is like a really long scream or dreamy sigh, maybe both?)

“I won’t move until you tell me to,” he breathed, his eyes falling closed as he rested his head against yours. The pad of his thumb tracing the slopes on your cheek, your jaw.

“I know,” you whispered against him.

I WANT TO RIP MY ARM OFF WITH MY TEETH 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

“You’re all I want,” he breathed, smoothing his fingers through your hair before he kissed you once more.

someone call the paramedics i'm not fucking okay- YOU CAN'T JUST SAY THAT TO SOMEONE AND THINK YOU CAN GET AWAY WITH IT THEODORE

That you had tried, and failed, to save him; and now could only love him.

i have so much to say about this sentence that i'm just gonna let it sink in my brain for a while

reading this was like being wrapped in my favorite blanket during a particularly bad cold day.

Sea Foam | Chapter Four

Theodore Nott x Siren!Reader

Read the other Chapters here.

Summary: After a moonlit swim, you find Theo in the Common Room. Half asleep and buried in a book.

Length: 2.2k

Notes: This is so late and I am so sorry. I really struggled with this chapter, but I hope it was worth the wait! NSFW ahead, minors dni. Soft Theo, Sleepy Theo. First time smut writer and it is relatively soft, not super spicy sorry. It might be bad oops <3

Beams of moonlight broke through the slick of the surface, cutting down to the bottom of the lake. There was a soft current pulling at you, kelp licking at the skin of your back. Arms outstretched towards the rays, fingertips dancing through them curiously.

It was these nights, weightless and floating through the darkness, that you almost found yourself enjoying it all. No full moon to shatter your mind, to cause you to betray yourself. It brought a kind of quiet you were certain you’d never felt anywhere else, and never could.

Theo’s words were heavy on your mind, threatening to sink you with their weight. You’d tried to brush him off again, to pretend that the last few weeks had been easy for you. But it wasn’t the truth. In his absence you had only grown wanting. Finally settling on the undeniable truth of who he was to you. Who he had always been, even when you had tried so desperately to push him aside, ignore the way your eyes found one another in every room. Every breath becoming so unbearably conscious when the other was near.

It was past midnight when you found him in the common room. Tucked into the nook of couches by the window. Your hair still doused in salt. Wind-bitten and bone-tired as you pulled your clothes tighter to your skin.

You’d known he would be here, though you pushed it to the corners of your mind any chance you got. Only watery ribbons of moonlight accompanied him, splayed across his skin. Ripples of light swimming against the marks that dotted the skin of his neck, his cheek. His eyes half-drawn with the need for rest.

A book was strewn lazily through Theo’s hands as he leant back. Head resting against the lounge’s spine, losing his fight against the pull of sleep.

You drew yourself closer, still engulfed by the dips of shadow that traced the candlelit walls. You came to rest by the high arched window, just a few heartbeats away from him. Wet hair curled, water running down the backs of your arms and onto the windowsill as you lazed into it. Head tilting, trying to catch the title of the leather bound book in Theo’s hands.

Curiosity was biting at you, and so you found yourself leaning towards the boy. One tentative hand on the lounge’s arm as you studied the page Theo had stilled on. It should have come as no surprise when the the candlelight flickered across it, revealing Sirens, Sea Creatures & Other Secrets of the Depths. Fondness licked at your chest, your eyes flickering from the book’s open page to Theo’s dream swept expression with a soft smile.

You turned back to the book, intrigue sinking it’s claws in deeper as you skimmed the inked paper. Reading on in a gentle trance until sleepy fingers brushed your wrist.

“Your hair’s wet,” Theo mumbled with a barely-there smile. Your cheeks stained with the heat of being caught as his thumb ran taxing circles over the delicate skin of your wrist. “You went for a swim?”

His tired eyes lifted with question as you glanced down to the water dripping from the ends of your hair. Collecting across his forearm and sliding along the shifting muscles beneath. But he didn’t care, eyes still floating across your face as though he’d finally found his resting place.

“Sorry,” you breathed, reaching out to brush the water from his skin. But his fingers collided with yours, guiding you to a halt.

“Your skin feels like ice,” he murmured, tangling your fingers, only to bring them to his lap. Resting your joined hands atop his book and drawing you towards him, “come here.”

Theo shuffled over, guiding you down softly beside him, his hand still firmly wrapped in yours. You let him direct you, fitting snugly into the couch’s corner. He looked to you, an unguarded affection in his eyes as he watched you settle in.

Once he could feel you beside him, was certain you wouldn’t disappear if he blinked, he peeled off his sweater. Pulling it over his head, making a further mess of his already sleep ridden hair.

“You’re reading about me,” you whispered. Eyes delirious under the candlelight, drinking him in. Softness spilling through your chest.

You nodded, eyes drifting from him. Going somewhere deep within yourself. He wished you would take him with you, let him see it for himself. He could’ve well done it, but he hung back, knowing it was wrong. Knowing that at least something between you needed to stay sacred to one, without belonging to the other.

“I don’t want anything to happen to you because of me,” you returned after a moment. The path of Theo’s thumb against your wrist drawing you back to him once again. But still you wouldn’t look at him.

“You won’t hurt me,” he assured, fingers trailing down to brush yours.

“You don’t know that,” you countered, looking down at your hands. The way his fingers danced across the top of yours. How you reached for his even when you wished you wouldn’t.

“Neither do you,” he answered. Knowing he was right when your eyes finally lifted to his once again.

“And if you’re wrong?”

His words demolished any of your lingering doubts. You fell into him completely, sinking in the sureness of it all. The unwavering way in which he let it leave him; that he wanted to love you. Perhaps even already did. He watched you carefully, a satisfied smile pulling at his lips, fingertips trickling down your neck.

“I’m yours, if you’ll have me.”

That was all it took for you to leave it all behind. Everything you had resisted these past weeks, every part of him you’d stopped yourself from touching, basking in. You felt as though the moon had made its path early. Utterly consumed by him as you nodded, nose brushing his as you suddenly grew aware of just how close you had become.

“Please.”

His lips fell against yours within an instant, hungering for you. It almost broke you, caught you alight. Fire spreading from his lips and igniting you after weeks of kindling touches, glances. Hands threading through your hair as he drew you into him. The two of you barely able to breathe from the unbreakable warring of your lips. Your hands flying to his jaw, pulling him closer to you.

You were tired of resisting him, denying both of you of what you wanted most. It wasn’t long before he had hooked his hands beneath your thighs. Pulling you across his lap as you pressed into him, feeling all of him beneath you.

Your desperation was only mirrored in the ferocity of his kiss. A chain left from your lips to the corners of your jaw. Rough kisses smattered across your skin as his hands began to roam. Pushing up the hem of his sweater, curious fingers tracing your sides. You shivered against his touch, your hands travelling the soft skin of his neck. Drifting up its back to tangle through his hair, pulling him inconceivably closer.

In a matter of minutes you found yourself in an abandoned wing of the Slytherin dormitories. Being set down softly atop the bed as Theo hovered over you. The room utterly devoid of light save for a sliver of moonlight from the lake’s windows.

“You’re sure?” Theo asked against your lips. Though from the rasp in his voice, he was barely holding it together to be able to ask the question at all. You could feel him pressing against your thigh, the sensation dizzying as you gasped against him.

“I'm yours.”

Theo groaned at the tremble in your voice, the restraint from the past month dissipating nearly completely as he made quick work of your clothes. Your hands flying to his belt as he pulled his sweater over your head. Lips refusing to leave each other’s, fingers working blind. His hands greedy as he trailed the new skin he’d yet to touch. Both of you driven to madness until nothing remained between either of you.

Sweat and skin pressed against one another as he rolled his hips into yours. Each rock of his hips drawing a gasp from you as you struggled against him, wanting nothing more than to build the friction.

Theo only simpered, enjoying how badly you needed him after denying the both of you of each other for so long. How unashamedly you clung to his arms, the muscles straining as he held himself above you.

The length of him almost tore you apart as he pushed himself into you. Bottoming out as both of you inhaled sharply against one another. A pained sound leaving you in the rush of air from your lips, he faltered.

“Are you alright?” Theo’s eyes flickered open, blinking away the lust that had consumed them as concern overtook everything else. You nodded, adjusting to his size as his eyes softened for a moment, his hand coming to rest against your cheek.

“I won’t move until you tell me to,” he breathed, his eyes falling closed as he rested his head against yours. The pad of his thumb tracing the slopes on your cheek, your jaw.

“I know,” you whispered against him.

A tender kiss pressed to your lips as Theo gave you time. Your hands tangling in his hair, bringing him down to you for a while until he pulled back for a moment. Watching as the moonlight fell across your cheek. Tracing it with his fingertips. Wrapped up entirely by how beautiful you looked beneath him. The light spilling across your skin, catching in your eyes.

You nodded tenderly, his lips pressing against the corner of your own. His eyes flicked up to yours, as he continued to press his lips along your skin.

“You’re all I want,” he breathed, smoothing his fingers through your hair before he kissed you once more.

His lips strayed again, wandering down to the skin of your neck. Hips pressing into yours as he pushed himself deeper. Heat erupted from where he buried himself within you, the sensation buzzing through your body in waves. Pushing the air from your lungs, making you choke on your own breath. Your head falling against Theo’s shoulder, lips parting soundlessly at the fire erupting across your skin. Unable to remove yourself from where you hid in his neck. Each roll of his hips only deepening the feeling.

His hand found the side of your neck with tender fingers. Trailing up to the underside of your jaw as he brought you back, guiding you to look at him. Pulling you into him further while you shuddered against him. Lips still parted and struggling to meet his eyes.

The sight was enough to send Theo over the edge, his pace growing irregular as his thumb brushed your bottom lip. His eyes completely misted at the sight of you before him; of what he was doing to you.

And as you tangled yourself into him, pulling him suffocatingly close, you tried to drown it out; that feeling.

That you had tried, and failed, to save him; and now could only love him.

Keep an eye out for Chapter Five here, or comment to be added to the tag list for future updates <3

Taglist: @hemlockmuncher @hoeforvinniehackerrr @moonlightttfae @thecraziestcrayon @itssomeonereading @weird123abc @dulcesfolklcre @amongemeraldclouds @mrsriddles-blog @cumberbitchhhh @rabbitholeee @diorandcigaddict @lovelyygirl8 @elsie-bells @thegirlwhosimpstoomuch @camille-1019 @simping-for-marvel @slytherinboysappreciation @leona-hawthorne @liaaanie @not-so-bad-ass @wildestdreamslover @nat1221 @melllinaa @aykxz98 @chgrch

if i missed anyone please let me know!

#theodore nott x reader #slytherin boys #theodore nott fic #theodore nott #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott smut #theo theo theo theo #theo nott #theodore nott x siren!reader

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strawberryya · 2 years ago

Text

heat wave

Minghao x reader

request: Hii! Could I request a Minghao fic? Fluff and comfort where the reader gets sick in the middle of the summer 💀(pretty specific but istg having fever when it’s so hot outside it’s killing me)

word count: 1.9k

genre/contains: fluff, comfort, sick reader, reader in pain, established relationship, physical touch as comfort happens but also comfort in other ways, mentions of medicine and food

a/n: I hope you are feeling a bit better at this point anon, but if you're not I hope this helps :)

.・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・.

Minghao was about ready to leave the house when he realized that you were still in bed. You would most likely oversleep if he didn't wake you up now since he knew how bad you were at setting alarms. They bugged you, and usually, you and Minghao had the opportunity to wake up together.

Today, however, Minghao had an earlier than usual schedule and would leave before you had to. You should've woken up by now though, and he thought it would be best to wake you up himself instead of leaving it up to chance.

Sitting down by the side of the bed he began stroking his hand down the side of your arm under the covers.

"Good morning sweetheart, I have to leave now so I thought I would wake you up so you don't oversleep," he said with a melodious voice.

You, however, were not feeling the "good" in this morning. “No, it’s tooo warm” you groaned out, wanting to both throw your covers away and snuggle deeper into them. It was all wrong, so you just stayed, shuffling around a bit.

“I know, the heat wave is insane this summer. I’m barely holding it together, mayyybe you should try getting out of bed and away from those even warmer covers?” He responded with a deep and exaggerated sigh, playfully trying to get you to wake up just to glare at him for his slightly judgmental comment about you still being in bed.

However, you didn’t respond to his teasing. There were tiny beads of sweat forming on your forehead, as the heat from outside of your body, and the one fighting its way out of your body had begun terrorizing you with its combined warmth.

Your lips, ashy and dry, combined with the sweat glistening on your skin made Minghao think that perhaps you weren't feeling too good. Of course, Minghao's suspicions proved to be correct.

“Oh gosh! You’re burning up!?” Minghao nearly shouted out, as he touched your forehead with the back of his hand.

You only whimpered back, leaning into his touch, needing something other than the insufferable feeling of warmth flooding your body. He wasn't nearly as warm as you, and his touch brought with it the slightest relief for your mind, which was almost delirious from the fever.

“How are you feeling sweetie?” He asked, concern lacing his every word, while he continued to pat your head and wipe the tiny beads of sweat forming at the edge of your hairline away from your face.

You replied with a short “Not good,” while trying to open your eyes to look back at your boyfriend who was holding the back of his neck with the one hand that wasn't resting on you, as he thought about what to do now.

“I’m staying home with you today, okay.” He declared after a while. Adding “Let me just call in sick, I’ll call in for you too,” and pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head.

“I will be fine, I don’t think I’m that sick, I’ll just sleep it off, don’t cancel your things for me.” You tried to assure him. But as you were saying this, the words became increasingly hard to pronounce and your voice was becoming fainter and fainter the longer you tried to make use of it. The sore throat you were discovering that you had was an issue when trying to debate what he should and shouldn’t do for you.

After clearing your throat, you added "I can take care of myself, it's fine..." Nevertheless, Minghao saw through your charades.

“Yeah, I know you can take care of yourself. But,” he paused, letting his hand rest on your head as he stared into your drowsy eyes, “please, let me do it.”

His voice was so understanding yet so stern, he wanted you to agree, but he had also decided to cancel his schedule for the day and be there for you. No matter what you said you could handle, anyone could see how much you ached from the heat of the fever combined with the already insufferable heat wave.

He also knew how you felt about receiving help, not even your own boyfriend was an exemption from your need to do everything yourself, no matter how much it weighed on you.

That’s just why he needed to be there anyways, you wouldn't ask for it, and you wouldn’t be keen on accepting his assistance or care if it was an option. So simply telling you that he already decided to stay, to simply inform you about what he wanted to do for you, was one hell of a lot easier than trying to convince you of anything.

He quickly changed into sweats again, called into both of your workplaces, and came back to your side with an ice-cold glass of water, some aspirin, and a damp towel. You looked exhausted, he ached himself from just seeing you like this.

"Hey, sweetie, i need you to wake up a little," he began to rouse you awake and back into the world of the living.

"Just sit up a bit," he continued, trying his best to help you into a half upright position, leaning against the headboard behind you. Your eyes fought you for control as they tried to close themselves against your will. Minghao brushed his hand against your chin, "here, drink this," he held up the glass to your lips and you drank, happy for the soothing feeling it brought to your dry mouth. "Now, swallow this," he popped the pill onto your tongue and you swallowed it along with another sip of water.

"Good job, you did so good," Minghao praised as you laid back down, He smiled down at you, and placed the damp towel on your forehead. The sigh of relief you let out, made his heart melt.

"And you wanted to be left alone like this?" he whispered out into the air, clicking his tongue in disapproval, not expecting you to even hear him. Altough, you did hear him and you felt a sense of thankfulness to him, for not listening to your stubborn self trying to handle everything yourself, and instead being there, for always being there.

.・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・.

You were sound asleep now, it had been a couple hours of delirious sleep, mixed with waking up and stumbling to the bathroom, or waking up to let Minghao give you more water, or pills, or change the cooling towel propped up on your head. He was positioned next to you in bed, sitting up against the headboard and reading to pass the time without disturbing you.

A sudden grip on his arm disrupted his peaceful reading when you clammed onto Minghao's arm in your sleep. You were so warm to the touch, and he looked at you, sweaty and still off in dreamland. Whines erupted from your throat, "Don't go, don't, Hao, help me, the fire is so hot, please, don't leave me alone," you rambled.

He could almost feel your pain, seeing the pain in your face. At the same time, Minghao felt a tinge of pride as you called out for him when you needed someone. Even if you were barely conscious as you said it, the simple fact that you had actually let go of your stubborn attitude towards receiving help, and called for him in your moment of weakness.

“I’m here, I’m right here,” he comforted in a low, soothing voice, “just sleep, I won’t go anywhere,” he continued as you slowly loosened your grip on his arm. Minghao watched you as you went back to sleep, thrashing around in the bed to somehow find something cool in your surroundings.

.・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・.

The entire day had passed by the time you regained enough consciousness to be able to sit up yourself. The pills had worked magic, and you felt so much better now. Even the scorching heat of the day was beginning to calm down as the sun was setting.

Minghao had stayed by your side the entire day and was now running his fingers up and down your still warm arm, while he continued to read the book that he was nearing the end of by now.

"Hey Hao, I think I could eat something now," you said and looked up at him, breaking the comfortable silence in the room.

He looked back at you, placing the book on his chest. "Oh! Do you want anything in specific?" he eagerly questioned.

"No, not really, my stomach just feels so empty right now and I'm finally ready to eat something I think."

"Okay, I can work with that," he said as he chuckled in relief as you seemed a lot more upbeat now. "What do you think about cold noodles?"

"I can feel my mouth watering already," you said and looked at him with a dreamy expression that made him laugh.

"Well then, I'll go and make that happen, you just relax a bit, drink some more water while you're at it," he suggested while making his way out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.

When he came back with a tray of two bowls of delicious-looking noodles you had already gotten up to sit properly and moved the covers away so that he could place the food down without having to adjust them to lay flat enough with the food in his hands. You had also turned on the laptop and placed it in front of you on the bed, a movie ready to play as you ate.

"What are we watching?" Minghao asked and motioned to the still dark screen.

"Frozen, to combat the heat you know," you responded absent-mindedly, occupied with setting up your food and trying not to spill any of it.

"Ah, a perfect choice, as expected," he snickered and scootched onto the bed with his own bowl steady in his hands. Before turning on the movie, you mumbled out a "Thank you, by the way."

Minghao just looked at you, tilting his head in question before guessing "The food? Oh no problem," and smiling lightheartedly back at you.

"No, i mean I-... I'm not sure I would've been so fine on my own if I'm being honest. So... thank you for being here for me today."

He felt his heart flip, his face lighting up at the thankful words.

"Actually, thank you for always being there, even when I'm being so reluctant," you stated, with a clear and purposeful voice. But saying these things had made you a bit embarrassed and you decided to move on quickly.

Instead, you shoved an entire mouthful of noodles past your lips. But you froze when you heard Minghao giggle next to you, and then you managed to almost choke on the food in your mouth when he gave you a kiss on your stuffed cheek while responding with an extremely casual "Anytime, baby."

He couldn't help but snicker at the way you had been so surprised by his casual responses to your vulnerability. You scowled at him, but he just smiled at you and pressed play on the movie, letting his hand fall down onto your knee, rubbing small circles on it while you continued to eat and watch the movie for the remainder of the evening.

.・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・.

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leviathism · 3 years ago

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when you’re exhausted

gn reader

Lucifer will invite you into his chair with him, allowing you a safe quiet place from his brothers in the place where he works. He’ll hex the door, making it so that nobody can enter.

While he cannot find comfort in this room, as he is usually stressed and rushing to complete work in it, he is glad that you can twist yourself into such an uncomfortable position just to be able hide your face into his side and fall asleep. Humans are so resilient.

If you’re exhausted, it’s a great time to cuddle up with Mammon when he’s already taking a nap. You can usually find him in his room an hour after school ended, spread out of his bed with a headband keeping his hair back.

Luckily, if he wakes up, he’ll be too sleepy to act like he doesn’t want you there. So, you have free reign on whether to lay in the rest of the empty space left for you or lay directly on top of him. i

Leviathan always invites you to his room if you seem off in any way. He’s nervous, unsure on how to help you when you’re already falling asleep in his pile of blankets and pillows.

He’ll check up on you regularly and pause his show to make sure you’re still breathing. One time when you fell asleep in his bathtub, he had finally caved into his desires and climbed in with you. Unfortunately for him, you had woken up at the blankets shifting under you, scaring him so bad that he leapt out of his bed and slammed into the wall.

Satan will relax with you on the couch, courteously allowing you to use him as a comfy pillow to rest on. He’s more than happy to sit there for hours, loving to have an excuse to not do his homework as he watches a new season of his favorite show.

He enjoys having you there with him, whether you’re awake or asleep or neither. He also likes hearing your delirious commentary on the main characters.

Asmodeus doesn’t entirely get how you’re so exhausted, but he allows you to have a spot in his bed while he’s gone. He’ll come back later and climb in with you, waking you up only to rant to you about whatever mess he’s gotten himself into this time.

He doesn’t even mind when you immediately drift back off, he just continues to talk, feeling proud that you managed to fall asleep to the sound of his voice. Or well, that’s what he can say happened anyway.

“I’m tired,” you said and leaned into Beelzebub’s space, trusting him to keep you from falling. He held you with both of this arms, tight up against him, and smiled at you happily.

Beelzebub had always been good to you; more often than not he let you do whatever you wanted with anything that involved him. You broke into his room and invaded his bed 4 days a week and he never spoke a single bad word of you.

Belphegor convinces you to stay home when he catches on to your exhaustion. He’ll corner you in the attic, somehow someway—you’re still not entirely sure how you even got up there in the first place—and force you to lay with him.

This is his expertise after all, let the master show you how to truly nap with the top ten most comfortable sleeping positions that he knows of. You don’t have the heart to tell him that sleeping with your head hanging off the bed is NOT comfortable for a human, so you end up suffering through it for him.

#obey me x reader #obey me x you #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x mc #obey me x gn!reader #obey me x gn!mc #obey me fluff #obey me #obey me headcannons #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader

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creaturecuddler · 2 years ago

Text

Bill Cipher x Reader: Mornings Summary: Bill isn't necessarily always a morning person, especially when he's all defiant. You try to wake him up to get some stuff done. Notes: First (public) fic I've posted like, ever. Kinda self-indulgent, honestly. I like writing these types of fanfics, they're so cute. ✧༺✦✮✦༻∞🎩👁️∞༺✦✮✦༻✧

The small little triangular demon shifted under your bedsheets as you held him close, taking in all of his radiative warmth. While you didn't necessarily like waking up early (he didn't either, actually), you two had to get some work done around the house. Mostly just cleaning up the place so that it didn't look too bad. "Bill... c'mon, wake up." You groaned, jittering him around a bit with your hand on his left side angle. Your attempts to wake him up were very futile, it seemed. "But I don't waannaa..." Bill whined a little bit, cuddling up closer to you. You twos' alarm blared in the background, a cacophony of high-pitched beeps one after the other - precisely five seconds between each high-pitched pattern. The time read that it was around 9:30. Oddly early to be woken up, but a small stray from the time that you two would usually awake. Bill shifted in his blanket a little bit as he wrapped his arms around you. His voice was quiet, his singular eye fluttered a little bit as he nuzzled up to you.

"C'mon, Bill.. we've gotta wake up. We've got stuff to do." You slurred, your mind being completely delirious. Maybe while your brain was trying to convince you that maybe it would be a bit better to keep cuddling with him until the time you two would both usually awake, you still had stuff to get done. Albeit, just an hour early. Or it could be Bill somehow trying to convince you that way too. Either way, you just didn't try to keep cuddling with him. Not right now. Your arms were very much still wrapped around him, and the heat he radiated from himself was indeed quite endearing, yes... but that still didn't make you budge. You rubbed your sleepy eyes with one hand as you laid your other hand on Bill's side angle, wiggling him around a bit in order to keep him awake... right before he cuddled up to you again, lying his head on your chest. Before you could respond, you heard the faintest snores coming from the little triangular being. With a small bit of non-verbal communication, you sighed and pulled him in close once again up to your face. You swore that almost as you were beginning to drift off to sleep, staring right at Bill, that his eye began to open just a little bit. It was almost unnoticeable. Maybe cuddling with him for another hour wouldn't be so bad.

#bill cipher x reader #📚 cy's stories #🎩👁️ bill cipher (husbill)

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corpsedaydream · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! Thank you for writing for Corpse!

Anyway, how about scenario when after some stressing things (like going for groceries or medical treatment etc) corpse came home just to see s/o in his hoodie that just too big for her?? Fluff and all??

Thank you again and sorry for bad eng :D

thank u for reading them cutie!! 🖤

oof this is a cute idea, here we go

update: this turned out longer than i planned, but i’m not mad about it! hope u enjoy

word count: 1.3k

_________________________

cold hands, warm neck

You had no idea what time it was when you awoke. You’d been spending your time off at your boyfriends house and after four days of trying your best to match his sleep schedule - not wanting to miss out on any moments with him - it finally caught up to you and you had crashed hard.

The night before, Corpse told his friends he was taking a quick bathroom break from streaming, except it wasn’t a bathroom break, you hadn’t replied to any of his messages he’d sent you while he was in there and he was getting a little worried. He was surprised to hear no noise around the house. Usually when he opened his office door for the past few days, he’d hear you watching something quietly from the couch, or facetiming one of your friends, or laughing at something on your phone. He’d gotten so used to it that when it was dead silent, the anxiety started to build ever so slightly.

The living room and kitchen showed up empty, and as he turned around, he caught that his bedroom door was opened.

“(Y/N),” Corpse called your name as he began walking closer, but you didn’t respond and his anxiety grew.

“Baby?” He tried again, reaching the doorway and looking in and that’s when he saw you and relief flooded through him.

He had gotten used to you staying awake with him these past couple of days, but he knew himself you couldn’t keep that up the whole time you were there. In reality, he was expecting a moment like this to happen.

You were deep asleep, not moving an inch and chest moving so slowly but rhythmically to signal how peaceful you were. There were telltale signs that you unintentionally fell asleep. You were still atop his covers, and he’d come to learn you loved to be curled up under a duvet. Your hair was still up in it’s scrunchie and he’d come to learn you slept with it out or you woke up a little grumpy because of the headache it caused. Your water bottle was leaning against your arm and he’d come to learn you always placed it on the floor before sleeping, you’d told him about the few times when you woke up freezing after they’d leak. Your phone was still half in your hand, but it was dead, signalling that you were probably scrolling through Tiktok or Twitter and fell asleep doing so.

He took a moment to look over you, he wanted to remember this picture in his mind, before he went into action to make sure you were sleeping how he knew you preferred.

First he removed your water bottle, second he grabbed your phone and plugged it on charge for you before placing it on his bedside table. Next came the actions he was worried would wake you.

With gentle hands, he pulled the scrunchie from your hair, allowing your hair to sprawl over his pillow and next he went to work with trying to get the covers out from under you and over you, instead.

It seemed Corpse really underestimated just how deep asleep you were, because you didn’t stir once through this process. If he was honest with himself, there was a part of him that had selfishly wished you had woken up, just so he could kiss you and hold you for a moment to tell you good night and hear your sleepy voice. But he knew you needed this, he couldn’t expect you to keep up with his sleeping pattern. So he settled with leaving a gentle peck against your forehead and whispering a quiet “sweet dreams, baby,” before going back to his stream.

You were somewhat delirious when you did finally wake up. After a few nights of barely sleeping to catching up on all those missed hours in one night, you couldn’t even be sure what day it was.

“Corpse?” Even your voice was a little croaky, laced with sleep. You rubbed your hands over your eyes before spotting your phone on charge. Slow hands grabbed it, unplugging the charger seeing that it was now on 100% before looking to see if Corpse had messaged you anything. And sure enough, you discovered he had gone out, but he promised to be home soon. Something you didn’t doubt, knowing he didn’t enjoy being out of his place.

Whilst waiting, you took a shower but when you got out, it was seemingly a lot colder today.

Did I even pack anything warm? You wondered to yourself, Corpse lived somewhere it rarely became cold and you were left empty handed when looking through your own belongings for a hoodie. Then you spotted a hoodie of Corpses sitting on the end of his bed and without thinking twice, you slipped the black article of clothing over your body. It made you miss him, it felt right to be wearing his clothes, but it made you want his arms around you, too.

You decided on waiting for him on the couch, it was close to the front door and you had just spent well enough hours in his bed.

It wasn’t long before you heard the locks of his front door being switched opened and instantly the smile grew on your face as your heart fluttered with excitement. You’d spent almost every minute with him since being here, so the time spent sleeping and him going out felt long.

You watched him as he walked in the front door. He hadn’t noticed you at first. And you could see why in his face, he was distracted, stressed from the task that really took a toll on him and you wished he’d woken you up so you could’ve gone with him or even for him.

“Hi.” You greeted your boyfriend.

“Fuck,” You caught him off guard, and you couldn’t help but to laugh as he made a little a stumble and dropped the bag that was in his hand. “You’re awak- is that mine?” He quickly cut himself off, his eyes landing on you and dropping down to look over the familiar black hoodie that completely engulfed you in the most heart warming way.

“Oh, yeah, I didn’t bring anything warm.” You spoke, lifting your arms as you spoke and looking at the material that was so baggy all over you, but so comfortable. “I should’ve asked, sorry.” You apologised but all he could focus on was how perfect you looked. So cozy but also fresh and well rested after the deep sleep you had.

“No, no. It’s okay. I love it.” He assured you and you began blushing, placing your hands that were completely covered by the sleeves over your face.

“Corpse, stop.”

“I’m serious, you don’t know how much better this has made me feel.” He told you honestly, and that’s when you brought your hands down from your face and instead opened your arms to him.

“Come here.” You told him simply and he didn’t waste a second before he accepted the invitation and embraced you fully.

Your body automatically moved back to lay against the arm of the couch as he joined you by resting on top of you. You jumped slightly as his arms rounded you and his cool hands slid under the hoodie, his touch wanting to feel your bare skin.

“Sorry baby, you’re just so warm.” Corpse told you before leaving a kiss against your neck and resting his head there. “Every part of you, too.” Even his nose felt cold as he nuzzled it against where he’d just left the kiss.

“Why are you so cold?” You asked between laughs, bringing your own arms around him, too, wanting to be as close as possible.

“I had to go outside.” He sighed and his reply took the humour out of your words.

“Are you okay?” You didn’t hesitate to ask him, brushing your fingers through his hair.

He nodded his head against you. “Don’t wanna talk about it right now. Just want to be with you.”

“Okay.”

#corpse husband #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse imagines #corpse husband imagines #writing #mine #request #castedorrsgraveyard #answered #1k #2k #3k #4k

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universallychaoticpan · 3 years ago

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Hi, can I request for chuuya where reader comes back from a mission all hurt despite having a really low pain tolerance please if not it’s fine:)

I don't have the best pain tolerance myself lmao so this was fun- tysm for asking!

Chuuya lounged contentedly on the sofa of your living room, the late afternoon sunlight setting the perfect mood for some nice wine and a quiet evening with the person he loved. At the moment, you were out on assignment, a simple interrogation that you should actually be returning from in no more than an hour. The smell of your comfort food cooking in the kitchen wafted through the place you both called home, your loving boyfriend taking the opportunity to do something nice for you. Honestly, it was the least you deserved, with all that you did for him. His mind wandered to the countless nights you'd be awake at all hours because you'd woken up when he was trying his hardest to come in quietly, insisting on dressing his wounds when he needed it, even things like pecking him on the cheek before you left each morning.

A knock at the door startled him from his thoughts, to which he sighed in response as he stood from the couch and padded across the cool floor. Probably a delivery person with the wrong door, he thought to himself, but as he swung the door open, his expression melted into concern. Because there, in the threshold, was you, eye bruised and blood staining the fabric of your shirt and looking as though you were ready collapse. In another moment, you actually did, falling into Chuuya who just barely managed to keep your body from hitting the floor as he pulled you inside.

Quickly, using his ability to gently move you, he brought you into your bathroom before lifting your shirt to asses the damage. Dawring you a bath, he let the warm water run for a while before helping you into to try to fix you up.

"oooooo," you giggled, a delirious grin on your face, "my boyfriend's gonna kick your ass when he sees you doing that..."

"I am your boyfriend, dumbass, now hold still."

You did, but entertained yourself by making up nonsense rhymes while your boyfriend carefully cleaned the shallow cut from which you were bleeding. From there, he continued to tenderly wash the dirt from your skin until it gleamed, steam filling the room with the scent of your soap as you relaxed into his touch.

It took another two hours to get you fed and into bed, but when you fell asleep, you were out cold. Chuuya knew you'd be sore as hell by the time the sun rose the next morning, and, as he drifted off close beside your slumbering presence, he mentally prepared himself for it.

And as soon as you woke up, he was proven right. Every time you moved you groaned out in pain as your aching muscles protested, the bruises on your skin grew more pronounced. Chuuya ribbed at you, sure, but you could tell he didn't mean it. You both knew you didn't have the most incredible pain tolerance, but you had a good reputation as someone who got the job done.

"Anyway," he said, a teasing smirk on his face, 'thought you were only doing some basic interrogation. How exactly did all this happen?"

You groaned again, lying on your back in you pajamas since you'd refused to even try to change.

"Let's just say someone didn't do a good enough job of making sure the target was actually unconscious before moving them. They got the jump on me and the rest is his- Stop laughing, idiot!"

Across from you, Chuuya almost rolled off the couch with the force of his laughter before he apologized, still giggling a little. "Sorry, sorry," he murmured, "I just think it's crazy that someone of your caliber got beat up like that."

"Nice save," you snickered, "and I'm not the happiest about it either. But it could've been worse, and now I'm home, so how about you stop making fun of me and come cuddle me, dumbass."

He was only too happy to oblige you.

///

This is just something short and sweet, but I hope you enjoy it!

#chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara #chuuya nakahara x reader #nakahara chuuya #nakahara chuuya x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #chuuya x gn reader

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hanniiesuckle17 · 4 years ago

Text

Ateez Reaction: Their Kid Gets Sick in the Middle of The Night

A/n: I love parent!ateez. Anything domestic im just like *heart eyes* also dont mind my weird petnames for kids. i just....i love kids......*sigh* anywayyyyyy hope you guys enjoy! im going to be writing for ateez and the other groups on my m.list alot more

S/n: Son’s name D/n: Daughter’s name

Pairing: Reader x OT8

Genre: fluff, slight angst, parent!au

Warnings: cussing?, descriptions of sick children (colds and flus, etc), fem reader

WC: 5k (overall) about 640-ish on average

Tag List: @woodiegochile @mini-meanhoe @leggomylino @hanstagrams @desertofdessert @hoes4hoseok @jeonqqin @geminirules @mrsunshine999 @jisungsjheekies @hannie-squirrel00 @cotccotc @kodzu-ken @konenichi @yangs-jeongin @binniebutter @orangegyu @little-precious-baby @yourdaddychan

Hongjoong:

You were in the perfect spot. A dreamless sleep had taken over your mind a few hours ago and you were perfect content pressed up against Hongjoong’s chest, his arms wrapped around your middle. His leg was tossed over yours and you were swaddled in a perfect cocoon of his warmth.

The blissful sleep of you and your husband was soon interrupted by a weak poke to your cheek. A second light jab forced your eyes open. In the dark room you could barely make out the shape of your three-year-old son. Lifting your head up, you checked the time- 1:04- and then over to your husband who was still fast asleep.

Pulling away from your husband’s hold, you turned on the bedside light only to be met with the tearstained face of S/n. “Oh- Goose! What’s wrong?” Your son only cried more and reached out for you. Completely sitting up in bed, you pulled him into your arms- gently stroking his hair. You noticed the back of his neck was cold with sweat.

“Baby? Everything okay?” Hongjoong mumbled, pushing himself off the mattress slightly.

“Daddy.....don’t feel good,” Your toddler said between cries. You continued to tenderly rub his back in hopes of calming your son. “Head....” S/n mumbled, tiny hands pawing at his crown.

Hongjoong now joined you fully sitting up. His dark eyes blinked rapidly trying to push away the edges of sleep still clouding his brain. Your husband motioned for you to pass over his son and you obliged. S/n cuddled up in his father’s lap - clawing at his shirt. “Baby, could you get the thermometer from the bathroom?” He asked, hand on his son’s little forehead.

Your mind was still foggy, but nonetheless, you got up and half jogged to the bathroom. Still tired, you fumbled through the cabinets looking for the thermometer. After a few minutes you returned, the instrument in hand. Hongjoong took it, thanking you softly. The two of you waited while the thermometer read your child’s temperature. S/n’s head was resting deliriously on your husband’s shoulder.

When Hongjoong took out the thermometer, your S/n groaned, nuzzling further into his dad’s chest. “Tummy hurts, daddy...” You almost felt hurt yourself, not being able to help your son’s pain. Reaching out you rubbed his back and looked to your lover for what to do.

A tired look rested on his face. The singer sighed looking down at the tiny instrument. “103.1,” Running a hand through your hair, you got up from the bed and grabbed a jacket for yourself and your son. “Hey, buddy. We’re going to take a little trip okay?” Hongjoong whispered to his son who was still crying from his head and stomachache.

“The doctor is going to make you feel all better, Goose.” You sleepily sang, more comforting yourself than S/n. The handsome man got up from your shared bed, still carrying your sick toddler, and headed into the living room with you quickly following.

“Let’s go to the hospital. Y/n where are my keys?” Hongjoong, laced his fingers with yours after you grabbed his keys and the three of you ventured down to the car. “ The one on Ddobong St is closest right?”

Seonghwa:

The cries of your baby girl woke you from a night of sweet sleep. Untangling yourself from your husband’s slumbering arms you rolled out of bed. With a sluggish gait, you walked into the nursery and hummed to your screaming daughter.

“Shhhh, baby- Daddy is sleeping,” You whispered, picking her up from the crib.

Any sleep your partner got was worth more than anything else you could give him. The sooner you could calm your daughter the more likely he stayed asleep. the one-year-old girl in your arms continued to cry, almost screaming in your ear.

You stroked her hair in hopes of calming the distressed child. The skin of her forehead felt hot against your palm and you pressed it fully against her forehead. “Oh- I’m sorry, love!” Scolding your tired mind for not realizing sooner, you carried your crying daughter into the bathroom to grab a thermometer.

Laying D/n back down in the crib, you lifted her nightgown and tucked the instrument under her arm, and waited for it to beep. The baby girl’s cries had quieted a little but remained constant and unrelenting. Finding she had a temperature you rushed to the medicine cabinet. All the bottles and labels blurred together in your sleepy vision.

Finding one that fit D/n’s symptoms you grabbed a spoon and the bottle. You poured the dark purple colored liquid onto the spoon and tried to coax your daughter into opening her mouth to take the medicine. Instead, the baby girl cried louder, the smell of the medicine floating down into her tiny nostrils. “D/n, baby....please take the medicine! Don’t wake up daddy.” You pleaded in a hushed tone.

“Don’t worry about waking me up.” A smooth, but sleepy voice said from the hallway.

Seonghwa shuffled into the room, eyes tired but soft and hair fluffy and sticking up in random places. A tiny smile lighted onto his lips. “Hwa, I’m sorry- I was trying to handle it but she won’t take the medicine.” Your husband shrugged and waddled over to the crib.

You let him take the spoon from your hand and carefully place it on the nearby table. He sleepily kissed your forehead before turning to his crying daughter. “Can you take her?” He asked gently picking her up and passing the child to you.

Your husband turned back to the crib, grabbing something, leaving you with a screaming baby. The handsome man returned with his daughter’s favorite plushie in hand. His longer fingers pushed the arms to look like the toy was waving. “D/n, open your mouth please!” He chirped in a goofy voice.

The little girl refused, shaking her head. She continued to cry in your arms, pushing away the stuffed animal. Your husband was not discouraged and instead gently picked up the medicine filled spoon with nimble fingers.

“Hi, princess!” Seonghwa sang in a cute and happy voice. His free hand moved up to make bunny ears on top of his head. “Will you take the magic potion for daddy?” D/n’s cries trickled to stop and she sniffed, watching her father do all sorts of sleepy but sincere aegyo.

“D/n, do you want the magic potion?” You whispered in her ear with a smile.

The little girl nodded, rubbing her eyes. Seonghwa smiled and moved the spoon like an airplane before letting his daughter take the medicine. She gagged at the taste, crying a little at the bitterness. Her tears quickly stopped when she was wrapped up in her father’s arms.

Her little fingers held on tightly to his shirt as his hand protectively held her to his chest. “Let’s go back to bed,” He whispered, letting his other hand envelope yours. “D/n, let's go sleep in mommy and daddy’s room, huh?”

Nestling your face in Seonghwa’s shoulder, you let him lead you all the way back to your bedroom. With your daughter placed between you and the medicine finally taking its effect, she was soon fast asleep, little snores floating from her tiny body. Pressing a kiss to your knuckles, Seonghwa watched you drift back to sleep before doing so himself.

Yunho:

Both you and your husband had been woken up an hour ago by your screaming toddler. Normally you could get him right back to sleep, but this time something was actually wrong. It was two o’clock in the morning and you had no idea what to do. S/n was crying and throwing up and had a fever that wouldn’t break.

You were frantically searching symptoms on your phone, pacing in the living room. After reading mommy blog after mommy blog you felt like you were getting nowhere. “Find anything?” Yunho called from the bathroom.

You almost shook your head, forgetting your husband was in a completely different room with your son. Ending your pacing, you ventured towards your bathroom. Opening the door you were met with a sight that made your heart skip a beat. The small room was filled completely with steam from the running shower. Your two year old son was stripped of his clothes, which he complained earlier of suffocating him. He clung to his father’s bare chest. Yunho had his arms wrapped around S/n, holding him up, resting him on his hip. Your husband's peach-dyed hair was clinging to his sweaty forehead.

For a moment you just watched the tall handsome man pat his son’s back gently and hum a soothing melody. He really did look like a worried Papa Bear. After a minute he noticed the lack of steam in the room and motioned for you to come in and close the door. “Mommy blogs are useless. They all say to just give him fluids and put him back to bed.”

Yunho sighed, shoulders heaving. Your son stirred and his eyes opened just barely to look into yours. You waved before reaching over and kissing his sweaty little forehead. Your hand trailed from your son to the warm skin of your husband. “Call your mom,” Yunho suddenly declared.

“No.”

“Call her.”

“Fine.”

At this point, you were too worried about your son to think about the wrath you were incurring by waking your mother at this hour. Leaning against the bathroom counter, you pressed the device up to your ear. Your son whined and reached for your hand. “Don’t tell her we haven��t moved out of the apartment.” He whispered hearing the dial tone from your cell. Yunho was also comically afraid of your mother.

You rolled your eyes. “Umm...Hi- Mom....” Yunho winced hearing your mother’s shrill and tired voice from the other side of the line. “Yeah. I’m really sorry. Look- mom, S/n is sick. We’ve got him in a steamed room. He’s been throwing up like crazy-”

Yunho’s long fingers softly raked through your son’s hair as he tried to listen to the conversation with his mother in law. “No.....No...Mom- Yunho didn’t give him ice cream. No......”

“It’s always my fault isn’t it,” Yunho groaned in a soft tone not wanting to upset his sickly son in his arms. “Tell her that I’m just as worried about my son as-”

“Bear.....this is not the time.” You scolded him, hand over the speaker. “Mom just....” You sighed- pinching the bridge of your nose. S/n cried at the loss of your hand in his. Your husband shushed him, wetting a washcloth and dabbing at his forehead and neck tenderly. “What’s his temperature?” Turning to your husband, you looked for the answer. “Babe, what’s his temp?”

“Last I checked it was 100.8,”

“100.8″ You gave a sigh of relief hearing your mother’s answer. “He’s going to be okay as long as it doesn’t get higher. She says keep him in here until his temp goes down and to try giving him something to eat to see if he can keep it down,” Relaying the instructions, Yunho nodded and did exactly what your mother told him.

Yeosang:

You had no idea what to do with a sick kid. Yeosang had no idea what to do with a sick kid. You both were kind of in the same boat. You loved your daughter wholeheartedly, but the both of you were still new parents even two years in and were flying by the seat of your pants.

So, when D/n had a 103 fever, the two of you started to panic. It was the middle of the night. Yeosang was cradling his crying toddler and you were desperately trying to reach your mother-in-law. “Is she really not picking up?” Never before in the entire time you knew Yeosang, had you seen him this worried.

“Sang- it’s like two am. She’s probably asleep.”

Yeosang watched you nervously burn a track in the floor. “Will you stop pacing?”

“Well, then what should we do?”

Your daughter nuzzled her sweating forehead into her father’s neck, little hands pulling at his sweatshirt. He rocked her back in forth in his arms, gears turning in his brain. “Hospital?” Your fiancee suggested- a hesitant but still desperate look in his eyes.

“Yeah. Emergency room. I’ll call Hongjoong on the way.”

Yeosang sighed, standing up and watching you gather a bag of things you would need. “Don’t do that. He’s just gonna wake the boys and then Wooyoung is going to go all Crazy God Father on us.” You chuckled slinging the packed bag over your shoulder.

“You’re the one who made him D/n’s god father. My vote was for Hongjoong.”

He groaned, not waiting for you to follow him out of the apartment. Having no time to strap her into her car seat, the singer climbed into the back and held his little girl as your family raced to the nearest emergency room. You burst through the doors, Yeosang carrying your crying toddler with her arms wrapped around his neck, much like in one of the medical dramas you had been watching lately.

Thankfully you were rushed into a room and your daughter was tested and examined by a doctor quickly. You sat by her side the whole time, holding her hand while Yeosang watched the doctors carefully. Occasionally he would ask questions or accidentally chide them if his daughter yelped from pain or looked uncomfortable. He would quickly go back to silently watching knowing he had overstepped.

As the doctor finished his examination, he asked you to wait for the test results to come back just to be sure it wasn’t anything serious. The boys burst almost waking D/n, Wooyoung racing towards the bedside of his goddaughter, a huge teddy bear in hand. Just like Yeosang they were all dressed in sweats or pajamas.

After about an hour of her uncles ‘quietly’ attending to their niece’s every need, the doctor returned- test results in hand. “Mr. Kang?” The physician’s eyes searched the boys' handsome faces until Yeosang raised his hand and made his way forward.

“That’s me,”

“I’m the godfather, Jung Wooyoung, what should I be doing?” Wooyoung said peeping over your fiancee’s shoulder.

The doctor blinked a few times before looking over to you as if to ask for a clue as to why this over-energetic boy was here. There was nothing you could do but shrug. “Well...um....you could start by sitting over there......quietly....”

Wooyoung gave the doctor a glaring look before reluctantly taking a seat in one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs in the room. “It’s nothing serious is it?” Yeosang asked, his hands subconsciously rubbing the back of his neck. “D/n isn’t dying right?”

The doctor smiled, placing a hand on the worried singer’s shoulder. “Right now she’s just fine. You were right to bring her in though! We are going to keep her for observation for the next twenty-four hours just to be absolutely sure it is nothing to worry about.”

Yeosang relayed the news before shoving the boys out of the pediatric hospital room so his little girl could sleep. He called his manager to cancel his schedules for the next day and he stayed by D/n’s side until the doctor told him that she was going to be perfectly fine.

San:

Two hours. You had been up for two hours. There was nothing more on this Earth that you loved more than your little girl, D/n. But when she woke you up at one o’clock in the morning, sick or not, it was not a happy occasion. It didn’t look like anything too serious was wrong with her. You didn’t even have to call your fiancee. Granted he should have been home from practice twenty minutes ago but that was another problem that you didn’t have the patience for right now.

Your toddler whined and rolled around on her bed as you got up to go to the medicine cabinet. D/n’s cries could be heard from all the way down the hall, hurrying your tired movements. “I’m coming, bean,” Instead of wasting time standing there, you grab the first five bottles you see and rush back to your daughter’s room.

Placing a cool washcloth on her forehead, her cries soften a little allowing you time to read the backs of the bottles. The next thirty minutes were spent trying to get your little girl to take the medicine. The sound of keys tinkling against the dish by the door makes your ears perk up.

“Babe? Everything okay?” San was home.

A bouncing head of dyed hair bounded down the hall to stop in the doorway. “She said she’s feeling sick,” San immediately rushes over, hand on the small of your back as he kneels by his daughter’s side.

“Hey, princess,” He whispers, stroking the hair away from her face. The man pouts seeing her clutch onto her stomach. “Does your tummy hurt?” D/n nods, rolling over onto her side and crying more.

San turns to you with a half accusing look on his face. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m the one who's been here taking care of her.” You smacked him lightly upside the head, not letting him forget he was the one who came home late. With a sigh, you dropped your sleep-filled head onto the singer’s shoulder. “She won’t take the cold medicine.”

Your fiancee scoffed, turning to look at you before filling a spoon with the oozy purple liquid. “I’ve got this. Watch the master.” San smiled, getting the attention of his little girl. “Princess, this tastes good don’t you want some! It will make you feel better!”

“Does it really taste good?” She askes shyly, looking at her father with stars in her eyes.

He nods enthusiastically, side-eyeing the spoon. Your daughter looks expectantly from the spoon to her father. After a moment it sort of dawns on him what she wants. Hesitantly, he opens his mouth and swallows the medicine. While he tries to smile, San’s face immediately turns sour and he dramatically gags on the after taste. “UGHHH!” He groans making a gross face.

“No! I don’t want it! It will taste bad!” D/n cries.

“Great job, Super-Dad.” You say sarcastically. San ignores you, still trying to wipe the taste from his mouth. “Baby, I promise you it doesn’t taste bad. Daddy is just a wimp.”

When you turn around to seek the singer’s help you find him on the phone and whispering to someone. “Hyung, what do I do? D/n won’t take the medicine. Apparently, Y/n’s been trying for hours and-” He freezes seeing you staring at him-brow raised in judgment.

“Tell me you aren’t on the phone with Seonghwa.”

“I’m not on the phone with Seonghwa......” A moment of silence passes only filled by your child’s whines and cries. “Okay, fine. I’m on the phone with Seonghwa!”

“SAN!”

“WHAT?! IT’S A REASONABLE THING TO DO!”

Mingi:

Mingi was panicking. You left seven hours ago. It took seven hours for everything to fall apart for the idol. While Mingi loved his job, it took away from him spending time with his two year old son. When your parents called, Mingi jumped at the chance to send you away for a weekend. He would get S/n time and you would get extra help planning for your wedding.

This was not going at all how Mingi wanted. It was almost 1 AM and his son was crying loudly with a scalding fever. He rushed around the apartment trying to find the list of emergency numbers you had left him. His son was in resting on his hip secured by the rapper’s arm. “S/n...it’s okay. Shhhh.” He could do this. By calling you he would just be proving that he couldn’t take care of his son by himself and he was totally not going to let that happen.

“Fuck, you’ve got a pair of lungs,” he cursed under his breath when the toddler screamed right in his ear.

Mingi could not stop himself from physically cheering after finding the slip of paper. The smile all but comically fell when he saw that spaghetti sauce from the dinner he had made S/n was staining every inch of the sheet.

Crushing the note in his fist he tossed it into the sink and just hoped it didn’t get stuck down the drain. “Okay, buddy. Time to go on an adventure.” Sitting his still crying child on the couch he grabbed a jacket from the closet and slipped his little arms through it. The toddler sniffled and looked at his father who tilted his head before returning to the closet. Mingi came back with two more coats and started stuffing his son into the puffy jackets.

“That should be enough,” he stated, pulling the hoods over his son’s head and picking him up. The little boy sniffled and cried in his father’s arms all the way to the nearest convenience store. Mingi’s legs were sore from running and he was sure that S/n wasn’t comfortable either.

White fluorescent lights shined all the way through the store’s windows and out onto the street. A happy chime alerted the half-asleep pharmacist behind the counter of the boys’ arrival. “Welcome, how can I help?” the woman greeted.

“I- uh.....my son....uh...” S/n turned around in Mingi’s arms rubbing his tired and tear-filled eyes. It was then he knew.....Mingi could not do this alone. “One second, sorry!” His long fingers pull his phone from his pocket and quickly dial your number.

Your sleepy voice floats through the speaker automatically relieving the tension in his whole body. “Hi, baby, what’s up?”

“Y/n, I’m so sorry- S/n has a fever and I tried everything and there was spaghetti sauce and jackets and- and.......baby...please help.”

You giggled over the phone and asked your boyfriend to take a deep breath. Once he was calm and speaking in full sentences you asked, “Do you want me to come home?”

“NO!” The pharmacist jumped at his volume and S/n almost started crying again. “Baby, just please tell me what to do!”

After agreeing to stay you listed off several medications and tried not to laugh hearing the idol attempt to repeat them to the woman behind the counter. Mingi insisted you stay on the phone with him the whole way back to the apartment.

S/n stopped sniffling and groaning when Mingi took off the boy’s three layers of coats and gave him the medicine. Both boys eventually fell asleep on the couch to you talking to them on speakerphone.

Wooyoung:

Your bodies lay draped over each other on the couch. Wooyoung lay under you, fingers threading through your hair as he watched the random drama that played on the tv. The volume was low so as not to wake your sleeping toddler in the other room, but instead of the show, you listened to your boyfriend’s steady heartbeat.

It was late. Maybe one in the morning? Wooyoung had rehearsals tomorrow, but no way was he going to pass up time alone with you. After you put S/n to bed he immediately dragged you to the couch. “I need my Y/n recharge!” He whined, making you giggle. Now you were so happy listening to his heartbeat, threatening to fall asleep to the calming sound.

“Are you still awake?” He whispered, brushing his cheek over the top of your head. The singer chuckled as the tiniest nod rubbed against his chest. His hands dropped down to your waist hugging you tightly. With his fingers removed from your scalp, you started to come back from the tempting fog of sleep.

Your mother ears picked up on the sound of a door opening and you sat up like a meerkat making the man below you smile. Your superpower was correct and soon tiny feet padded into the living room dragging a teddy bear behind him. Both you and the singer sat up seeing tears on your son’s cheeks.

“Daddy, my tummy hurts,” the two-year-old cried.

Immediately Wooyoung reached up and pulled his shaggy hair away from his face, wrapping it with a tie on his wrist. You smiled watching him switch into full-on dad mode. Picking his son up under the arms, your boyfriend stood up and let S/n’s little limbs wrap around his body. Full dad mode Wooyoung was honestly the hottest thing you had ever seen and it shocked you every time.

“It’s probably just an upset stomach but let’s take his temperature just to be sure.” Wooyoung nodded at your words and comforted your child as you searched for the thermometer.

Coming back with the instrument in hand you grinned at the sight before you. You could only compare the feeling to watching those videos of otters holding hands. The thermometer passed hands and you watched him struggle to get your son to open his mouth.

When he finally succeeded a soft grin floated over his lips as he watched his son. Hearing the click of your phone camera brought him out of his happy trance. “You did not just take a photo of me,” Wooyoung whined, smile betraying the tone of his voice.

“The boys have to know what a soft dad you are!” You joked, wiggling your phone at him.

Wooyoung laughed and maneuvered his son onto his hip. “If I was not holding our son- I would fucking tackle you.”

“WOO- LANGUAGE!”

“Oh my god, he’s two what’s he gonna do?”

Rolling your eyes, you watch your boyfriend tease you and pull the thermometer from S/n’s mouth. Wooyoung tossed the instrument to you before walking over to the kitchen. Thankfully your little boy didn’t have a fever.

The singer set s/n down on the counter and walked over to the fridge. He pulled out a bottle of ginger ale only to be stopped by your hand. “What?” You shook your head and put the soda back in the fridge. “I drank ginger ale all the time for this when I was his age,” Wooyoung stated like he was the smartest man in the world.

“Yeah well, doctor’s everywhere say ‘no’.” It was his turn to roll his eyes as you gave your son a natural fruit pop and water instead. “Show me your MD, babe.” You joked, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Whatever,” Wooyoung said with a smile, kissing the top of your head before returning his focus to your son.

Jongho:

Jongho was already nasty being away from his daughter for too long. This was the first weekend-long shoot Ateez was doing since D/n was born. You wouldn’t classify Jongho as a ....’clingy’ dad....just one that needed a picture and video check-in of his little girl every two hours or he would have a mini-meltdown.

His shoot was supposed to be two nights and three days. It was only ten o’clock on the second night when your daughter suddenly got a high fever. The little girl wouldn’t stop crying and in the few words she knew, she complained of bad stomach pain and a headache. Your boyfriend would obliterate you if you didn’t update him. Therefore promptly on the hour, you called Jongho despite the crying infant in the next room.

“Hi, Y/n-,” His expert ears immediately picked up on the crying over the phone. “What’s wrong is she okay? Are you okay? Is everyone okay? Why is my baby crying?”

“D/n is sick-”

“Do I need to come home? I’m coming home. I can totally come home.” You heard Yeosang shout a ‘No, he can’t’ from somewhere over the phone.

You sighed-rubbing your temples as a particularly shrill shriek pierced through the thin walls of your apartment. “She has a fever, and a pretty bad stomach ache. I think it’s possibly the flu. It might just be a stomach bug.”

Jongho was getting more worried by the second. He hated hearing his baby girl cry and not be able to do anything about it. They were at least three hours away and that was if he forced a taxi driver to run all the stoplights. “That’s it. Baby, I’m coming home.”

“No, Jongho, honey-” It was too late. He had already hung up.

Jongho walked right off set (thankfully cameras hadn’t been rolling). The singer marched right up to the director with determination in his eyes. Yeosang, having heard the youngest’s conversation immediately told Hongjoong who gathered the Maknae Damage Control Crew. I.e: Yunho and Wooyoung. “I need to leave.” he stated. The director didn’t even look up from his binder, simply waving his hand.

“Yeah- go to the trailer. We aren’t rolling for another ten minutes.”

“No. I need to go. As in I’m done. No more shooting of Choi Jongho.”

This got the older man’s attention. His brows raised at the idol’s sudden defiance. “Sorry, kid. Your contract says I own you for another twenty-eight hours. You aren’t going anywhere.”

He took a shaky breath, obviously suppressing his anger. Yunho uncertainly placed his hand on the younger’s shoulder only for it to be brushed off. “You don’t understand. My daughter is sick. I’m leaving.”

“No.”

“NO?” Jongho was furious. Things escalated from zero to sixty very quickly. Wooyoung and Yunho were now holding back Jongho in hopes of keeping him from throttling the show director. The singer had an almost crazed look in his eye and was shouting about getting home to his D/n and something about breaking his head like an apple.

Finally, Hongjoong stepped in. “Look just let him go home. We can finish the show with seven members. What’s the harm?” Thanks to the leader’s negotiating skills Jongho was soon racing back at light speed. At almost three am he burst through the door of your shared apartment only to be met with silence.

He was very confused. His first thought was: “Oh no. D/n had a deadly contagious virus and both of them died almost instantaneously.” Frantically he pulled his mask back over his face and ran to the nursery. Surprisingly, he found his little girl fast asleep. Her face was calm and her forehead was no warmer to the touch than normal.

Jongho next ventured into the bedroom, finding you passed out face first on his side of the bed. Smiling, he kicked off his shoes and took off his mask. “You had me worried for nothing.” He mumbled, collapsing onto the bed and pulling you into his arms. Not even the movement woke you up from your deep sleep. “Good job, mommy.”

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