#water is not helping i just keep violently coughing

[warmblanketwhump]

Idea for you. Let’s say we have 5 characters living in one household. They’re all very close. A brings an illness into the house. B catches it while taking care of them. Then C joins the party. Then finally D catches it as well, leaving E to take care of all of them. They start to feel ill, but power through. By the time the others have recovered, E’s fever is bad, and now they have to take care of the caretaker.

this flu season, everyone got sick.

First to fall was A, who came home from work with a pale face and a raspy voice and went straight to bed. When E went up to see them, they found them huddled in bed, blearily staring at the wall.

“I don’t feel good,” they whimper.

Next, C’s nagging cough deepened. It had started a tickle in their throat, but soon moved all the way down into their chest. C was the active type—always going for runs and spending time outdoors—so E knew they were in trouble when a short walk from room to room left C breathless, and soon, they were bedridden as well.

Then, B started complaining about feeling chilled.

“Aren’t you guys freezing?” They sat at the dinner table with D and E, a blanket clutched round their shoulders as they stare blankly at the meal they’ve barely touched.

“No?”

B runs their hands up and down their arms, then hugs themselves tightly with a shudder. “I just can’t get warm.”

D and E exchange a look before D rests a hand on B’s shoulder. “I’ll get the thermometer.”

In the span of 36 hours, three of them had become bedridden.

At first, it’s a bit of a joke between them all, D and E commiserating as they move between rooms with cough syrup, tissues, blankets, and tea.

“We should open up our own hospital,” E cracks as they

But that all changes four days in when E comes downstairs to see D at the kitchen table, ashen-faced and clutching a mug of tea in their hands.

“D, you look awful.”

D hugs the mug closer to their chest and shudders, coughing weakly. “I’ll manage. It’s just the sniffles.”

Before D can move away, E’s got a palm to their too-warm forehead and a sinking feeling in their chest. “Off to bed with you, D. You’re the next victim.”

D groans, slumping over with their head on the kitchen table. “E, I can’t just leave you.”

“Yes, you can and you will. You’re feverish and pale as death.”

D pulls the blanket tighter, a sheepish look on their face. “I thought…I thought it wouldn’t get me too.”

“No one thinks it will. Bed. Now.”

So that’s how D winds up the fourth victim of the flu, and despite their protests, they were arguably the worst hit. What they tried to pass off as a quick rest turned into a six-hour nap. they woke that evening with a 104 fever, having sweat through their clothes and bedsheets.

“It’s going to be a long night,” E whispers under their breath.

——————-

Two days later, E’s standing in the kitchen, fighting to keep their eyes open as the coffee brews, when they feel it.

A chill, prickling between their shoulder blades before it washes over their whole body.

No. I��m just overworked and sleep deprived.

Generously, E had slept for a combined 3 or 4 hours over the past two nights. It was partially their own fault. They’d been sleeping on the hallway floor so they could be equally close to everyone, which meant they heard every whimper, every cough, every quiet plea for help.

C had been up all night with a body-wracking cough, and B’s fever had spiked twice, which meant two changes into dry pajamas. A seemed to be through the worst of it, but they were still so weak they had to be helped to the bathroom. D woke at 2 in the morning, wracked with chills so violent that E gave into their pleas and helped them take a bath to warm up. After being dried off, they spent the rest of the night clutching a hot water bottle.

After that ordeal, E hadn’t even gone to bed—they’d just collapsed on D’s carpet, tugged the nearest blanket around themselves, and passed out.

Until they were woken by C’s coughing a couple hours later, and it all began again.

I'll just finish these dishes and then go sit by the fire. It's probably just this cold snap getting to me.

But as they wash dish after dish, E finds that each one becomes harder and harder to lift. Even the effort of standing makes their knees shake, and goosebumps prickle on E’s arms for no reason at all.

No. No. I can’t get sick.

By midmorning, it’s clear that something is very wrong. E’s chilled to the bone, despite being layered in thermals, a thick sweater and multiple pairs of socks. They resist the urge to wrap up in their bathrobe—the others will know something is wrong if they have that many visible layers on.

So they take A a glass of water, trying to hide how badly their hands are shaking when they hand it off. A must be thirsty enough they don’t notice as they gulp the glass down, but they frown once they’ve finished.

“E, you’re pretty peaked.”

“Hmm?” E snaps to attention, their focus drifting.

“You just look sorta washed out. Have you been sleeping?”

“I’ve been fine. As much sleep as I can with four patients to take care of,” E snaps. They instantly regret their tone as A flinches, then raises their eyebrows. “Sorry. It’s just…it’s been a lot.”

A props themselves up, wrapping their discarded robe around their shoulders. “E, I promise I’m feeling better. I can sit with D for a while—“

“No way. You couldn’t even walk yesterday.”

“And that was yesterday,” A says, patiently. “Give me an hour. If I don’t feel up to it, I’ll tell you.”

“Fine,” E says, too tired to fight with a suddenly chipper A. “But if you even seem slightly faint, it’s back to bed.”

——————

C is the next patient to raise alarms. Though their hacking cough has rendered them voiceless, they seem to be on the mend—vigorously pointing on things and writing messages on their notepad.

E, you look sick. C stabs the pointed message with their finger for emphasis.

E stifles a groan. “You’re one to talk. Drink your cough medicine.”

C accepts the shot of dark red syrup, but their eyes don’t leave B as they take it.

E meets A in the hallway, and before they can ask, A rattles off a report on B. “Fever’s still holding steady at 101.4. They’re miserable, but they’re not going to die. Gave them a cold washcloth, aspirin, and an extra blanket.”

“That’s….good work, A.”

A rolls their eye. “You’re not the only one who can play nurse.”

D is the final stop—they’re still in the roughest shape, feverish and mumbling incoherently, but A manages to soothe them with a cool hand to the forehead and some soft words. E adds another blanket to D’s bed and forces some more medicine into them, and D’s asleep in three minutes.

All patients accounted for, they leave D to rest. E’s about to tell—no, demand—that A goes back to bed, when a sudden dizzy feeling washes over them, and they grab the doorframe.

“E? You alright?”

“I…..I…” Suddenly, E can’t even form words, they just know they’re freezing, and they’re torn between keeping hold of the wall and wrapping their arms around themselves, get warm get warm get warm, and when they choose neither, their knees buckle and they crumple to the floor.

——————

The first thing E realizes, as A and C help them to sit on their bed, is that their sheets are crisp and clean. When was the last time they’d slept a full night in their bed?

“A, go….go to bed,” E rasps weakly through chattering teeth, huddling on the edge of the bed as A helps them into pajamas. “I’ll manage.”

“E, you can’t even keep your head up. Just let us help you change.”

E shudders weakly as their bare, feverish skin hits the chilly air, and A eases them under the covers, rubbing their back. “There you go. Nice and warm.” E leans into the touch, groaning softly, and they feel a thermometer poke under their tongue.

“103.6.”

E groans, pulling the blankets tighter. “I…I can’t be sick.”

“Hush.” A covers them with another blanket. “You took care of us, now let us take care of you.”

E is too feverish and cold and achy to protest, so they let them.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Study Buddy 3

Warnings:this series will include dark elements which may include bullying, noncon or dubcon, or violent behaviour. Mind the warnings.

Summary: a group project leads to a tense partnership.

Character: Walter Marshall

Big thanks to those who read! Feedback always helps inspire and you know I’m always happy to chat about possibilities! Please reblog and comment ❤️

Despite his prickliness, Walter doesn’t shy away from contributing to the work. You watch him thumb through his well-worn copy of the novel, notes scribbled in the margins and tabs stuck to different marks. The only difficult part is making yourself heard. 

“Hmm,” he shifts his chair closer to you, dragging it around the sharp corner, “I like how you worded that but I think you should move it.” 

He points to one sentence then shifts his aim further down. You reread and nod. “I guess that makes more sense.” 

He grumbles. Even agreeing with him seems to disappoint him. You sit back and stretch out your fingers. 

“Do you mind if I use your bathroom quick?” You asks. 

“Sure, down the hall,” he gestures over his shoulder. 

“Thanks, uh, won’t be long.” 

You get up and step around him, his chair leaving only a narrow path between him and the wall. You hook around into the hallway and make yourself as small as you can, afraid to disturb anything. Somehow, you think he’d no if you only dusted off a shelf or tugged on a curtain. 

You find the bathroom and as much as you want to hide, you don’t waste your time. Or his. The quicker this is over, the better. You figure, once you get a full draft done, you can agree to edit in the shared doc. 

You dry your hands with the plain waffled hand towel then flip back the lock. As you emerge, a rattling cough greets you from just beside the doorway. It’s that girl, Faye. His daughter. 

“Ooh, sorry, I wasn’t meaning to...” you begin as she leans heavily on the frame and shivers. She has a blanket around her shoulders as she chatters, he skin clammy, and her eyes about to roll back. “Um, Faye, was it? Are you alright?” 

“Mmmm,” she hums. “Mom?” 

You wince as she murmurs something else you can’t make out. She slips down the wall and you barely manage to catch her. She’s thin but tall. As you hold her up, you feel the heat radiating from her. 

“Here,” you help her through the door and sit her down on the closed toilet seat. She hunches forward and shakes uncontrollably. You touch her forehead. She’s as hot as a kettle. “I should get your dad...” 

“Mommy?” She whines and you flinch again. Walter didn’t mention a wife but she must have a mother, rigiht? 

“Okay,” you turn and search the small cupboard mounted behind the door.  

You take a wash cloth and delicately fold it, then wet it in the sink with cold water. You wring it out and spread it over her forehead. You guide her hands to the edges and have her lean back as her head tips. 

“Stay like that, okay? I’ll be right back.” 

“I’m so cold,” she babbles. 

“I know,” you wring your hand around a single finger. “Um, one sec.” 

You watch her for a moment, making sure she doesn’t slide one way or the other, then leave her. You hurry back down the hall. You find Walter jabbing the keys on his own. 

“Uh, Walter?” You eke out. “Faye uh...” 

“What?” He looks over his shoulder, a crease in his forehead. 

“She’s not feeling very well. She has a pretty bad fever,” you say. 

He sighs and stands up. You back out of his way and let him past. He heads down the hallway and you keep your distance. You stay a few feet away as you watch him approach the bathroom door. He looks inside and you hear Faye’s monotonous drone. 

“Shit,” he growls as he enters. 

You don’t want to intrude. You hesitate, wavering on your feet, then turn back. It’s none of your business. Not until your name stops you. You turn back to the hall. 

“Um, yeah?” 

“Can you come here?” Walter calls. 

It’s not so much a question as an order. You slowly advance down the hall and peek around the frame. Walter kneels before his daughter as she slumps forward and mutters senselessly. 

“I need you to hold onto her or she’ll fall.” 

“Okay,” you move into the tight space and he stands, holding her by her shoulders. You grab her and she leans into you. 

He looks down at her and shakes his head, “goddamnit. I got night shift...” 

His voice trails off and he turns, stepping around you to get to the door. He strides out heavily and you look down at the girl quivering against you. She reaches to cling to the front of your sweater. 

“Do you want some water or something?” You offer. 

“My head hurts,” she whines. 

You ease back and bend to come to a level with her. You stretch your arm across her shoulders to support her. She coughs, “my belly hurts.” 

You sniff. You’re not equipped for this. You have a hard enough time taking care of yourself. 

“Alright.” You take the cloth from her hand. You get her to lean back again and run more water over the cloth. You bring it back to her forehead. “Do you want to lay down?” 

She gurgles and nods. Before you can go get her dad, she latches onto you. She pulls herself up and you can only help. You don’t know what else to do. 

You let her lead you to her room and you get her into bed. You fix the cloth over her head and she moans. You frown. 

“What are you doing?” Walter startles you and you turn to find him in the doorway. 

“Do you have Aspirin? And ice?” You ask. “She needs to stay hydrated. The aspirin should break her fever.” 

“I don’t... know. Maybe in the car.” 

“I have some in my purse,” you insist. “And ice? You have that?” 

“Sure,” he answers as you approach him. He watches you with that stoic sense of disapproval. “I’ll get some.” 

“Yeah, er, thanks.” You utter, confounded how a study session turned into this. 

[possuminnit]

ohh my go d there is something itching the back of my throat and it hasnt stopped for hours WHY

[yelenabemylova]

Sick - Wanda Maximoff x Reader

summary: wanda goes above and beyond to take care of her girlfriend when she gets sick

word count: 1.8k

please remember to reblog as it really helps writers on tumblr !!

You woke up very suddenly and expected the daylight to be blinding, but it was pitch black. Picking up your phone, you checked the time. 3:23am.

Ever since you had moved in with Wanda, you rarely woke up in the middle of the night. A slight ache troubling your head made itself known, however you decided to ignore it and blame it on being tired.

Later on, you woke up again and reached out in search of your girlfriend's comforting embrace, but all you were met with was cold sheets.

A shiver made its way up your spine, however you were simultaneously sweating as though you had just ran a marathon. Your throat was irritated and your headache had escalated into a throbbing sensation throughout the entire expanse of your head. There was a dull ache pulsating around your entire body and your nose was entirely blocked.

Just then, Wanda walked into the room, a thin layer of sweat covering her skin. "Good morning baby girl," she said as she walked over to you and gently pressed a kiss to your paler than usual lips. "M'cold," was all you could get out before an aggressive coughing fit hindered your ability to speak.

Wanda assisted you into a comfortable sitting position and gently rubbed your back as the sound of violent coughs echoed through the room, and then proceeding to get a bottle of water for you from the little fridge Tony insisted was put in everyone's rooms.

"Sorry," you smiled sheepishly at your girlfriend after you had almost drank the entire bottle of water. "Don't worry about it," she smiled before kissing your temple and laying you back down, gently tucking the fluffy green blanket on the bed around you.

She felt your forehead, but then retracted her hand quickly. "You've got a fever baby, you're really hot." she told you. "I know you are but what am I," you said tiredly, your fever-ridden brain not fully registering anything that was happening around you.

Wanda helped you take some medicine, and gave you a heating pad to keep you warm while she went to shower after an intense sparring session with Steve.

"I'll be back soon princess," she smiled before walking into your en suite. You clutched the heating pad close to your chest and spent most of the time your girlfriend was in the shower coughing, sneezing, and blowing your nose.

When Wanda walked back in, you were on the verge of tears from the incessant pain radiating throughout your body. Your girlfriend looked at you with worried eyes and gently encased you in her warm, comforting embrace. "It hurts," you croaked hoarsely, "what hurts baby?" she asked. "Everything," you told her, pouting up at her dramatically.

She giggled to herself and walked back into the bathroom, the sound of running water causing your ears to perk up, before she returned to scoop you up into her arms and gracefully carry you through to the room filling with steam and the scent of strawberries.

Wanda carefully assisted you on removing your slightly damp from sweat pyjamas and helped you into the tub, positioning herself behind you. You leaned back against her front and sighed contentedly, the warm water soothing your achey muscles.

She washed your hair and body gently, kissing the top of your head every so often. Gratitude radiated from your drowsy grin towards your caring girlfriend.

The redhead picked you up and stepped out of the bath cautiously, drying then dressing you in some underwear and one of her jumpers and a stretchy pair of leggings. You rested your head on her shoulder as she carried you back to bed, before going to get some clothes for herself.

She gently climbed into bed with you and you cuddled up to her, allowing her to wrap her arms around you. She was so warm and cozy and being held by her made you instantly feel slightly better.

Nuzzling your face into her side, she stroked your hair, comforting you with soft compliments every now and then.

Wanda heard your breathing even out after a while, she knew you were asleep and she just couldn't help but stare down at you. She thought you were so beautiful and perfect and was so happy to call you hers.

It broke her heart to know you were sick but she knew it happened to everyone and all she could do was help make you feel better. She slowly drifted off to sleep, holding her gorgeous girlfriend in her arms.

You stirred awake after a while, still cuddled up to Wanda, the perfect way to wake up. Although you felt almost worse than you did before, you were just so grateful to have her beside you.

Pietro came speeding in after a while and you smiled weakly at him, your muscles aching too much to actually move. "What's wrong, rýpka?" he asked you, smiling sadly while walking over to the bed to sit next to you and Wanda. The nickname he called you made you giggle a little, it had come from the first day you met him.

You were told by Tony to show him and his sister around the compound, however when showing them one of the many pools, you slipped and fell in. He laughed until his ribs hurt and his face was red.

From then on he always called you rýpka, or 'little fish.'

He felt your forehead with the back of his hand and ran off, but was back in less than a second. He had brought more food, water and medicine for you. He was like a brother to you, he always had your back.

"Thanks," you told him, your voice still sounded akin to that of a dying chicken. He engaged in light conversation with you until you fell asleep, then went back to the living room to let the other avengers know Wanda and you wouldn't be down for dinner.

When you woke up again, the smell of something delicious infiltrated your senses. You opened your eyes slowly, adjusting to the light coming through the windows. It had an orange hue, casting a dancing assortment of colours across the room.

Wanda was perched on the bed next to you with a bowl of soup. "Do you want to try and eat something proper, malyshka?" she asked, smiling at you. "Sure," you replied weakly. She helped you sit up between her legs, your back resting against her chest, mimicking the positioning you had arranged yourselves into while in the bath, and she assisted you in eating the soup.

"Mm did you make this? It's really good," you smiled at her, "No," she giggled, "Pepper made it, she said it would help you feel better." You smiled and made a mental note to thank Pepper next time you saw her.

Once you had finished your soup, Wanda put the bowl in the kitchen, and while she was gone, Bucky came in to check up on you. "Hey, doll, I heard you were sick?" he said, genuine concern in his voice.

When Bucky first started living with the team, most of the other avengers iced him out, but Wanda, Pietro and yourself welcomed him with open arms. You quickly learned he was really sweet and instantly became one of your best friends in the tower.

You smiled at him and tried to tell him you had began feeling better but ended up choking on air and coughing as though you were trying to remove your own lungs. He rubbed your back with his non-metal hand, after all this time, he was still worried about hurting people with his metal arm.

You leaned into his side once you had finished coughing and he hugged you. After a few minutes, Wanda came in and smiled at the two of you. Bucky got up and left the two of you alone, as Wanda sat down next to you.

"Tony said he has some medicine that can hopefully make you better, if you want?" she told you. "There is nothing else in this world I can even imagine wanting more right now," you replied, laughing. You threw on some pajama bottoms and Wanda picked you up and carried you down to Tony's lab.

"Hey, honey, how are you feeling?" he asked. Tony had always been like a father figure to you, and Pepper a mother. You had grown up in an abusive household, eventually your parents kicked you out, and unfortunately. HYDRA found you.

"Not great," you told him. "Well then, let's get you fixed up," he said, taking you from Wanda's arms. He gave you a reassuring pat on the back before laying you down on one of the beds in the medical section of the lab.

Bruce walked in and smiled at you all, "so what's up, y/n?" he asked. You looked at Wanda so she could explain for you, similar to when your parents talk to the doctor for you as a child.

"She's had a high fever, she's been coughing and sneezing like crazy and she said her muscles hurt." she explained. Tony asked FRIDAY for some kind of fancy chemical and then told you to look away from your arm.

You felt a sharp prick and flinched, wincing a little at the pain. Wanda was instantly by your side, holding your other hand and rubbing her thumb in little circles to comfort you.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Tony said, smiling at you. Telling him not to worry about it, you thanked him for his help. "You should feel better by the morning, goodnight, honey," he told you. "Goodnight, Tony," you said back.

Thankfully the medicine made you extremely drowsy, knocking you out as soon as your head hit the pillow and you woke up the next morning feeling good as new.

You were walking down the hallway when you heard coughing come from Bucky's room. You quickly ran to elevator and told FRIDAY to take you down to the main floor. "Yes, of course Miss y/n," she replied.

"Miss y/n," she said after a few seconds, "yes FRIDAY?" you asked. "Sergeant Barnes has a message for you, 'Y/N YOU SON OF A BITCH I WILL KILL YOU FOR GETTING ME SICK'" he then burst out into a coughing fit and you couldn't help but laugh a bit.

"Tell him I'm sorry and I'll bring some of Pepper's magic soup in a bit," you told the AI. "Of course miss."

You stepped into the kitchen and loaded your plate with a stack of pancakes as tall as you could manage. It had only been a day, but you had missed eating food with the team.

[mistydeyes]

Sorry to bother and I completely understand if you dont have time or if you're busy but I saw this tiktok and was like worth a shot to ask, if you could write something kinda angst with it.

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT82P5PHR/

OKAY when i saw this tiktok it literally made my jaw drop like this idea is so good and also so angsty. this my first time ever writing something like this ahh but thank you so so much for requesting!!

behind closed doors

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summary: When all signs lead to you as the mole, the 141 demands answers and they will get it whatever way necessary.

read part ii here! and part iii!

pairing: Taskforce 141 x gn!reader (but like not even a pairing at this point lol)

okay real talk here please do not read if you are not comfortable with ANY OF THIS! it is upsetting in all aspects

warnings: torture/violence, mentions of blood, bruises, and cuts, swearing, abusive language, ANGST WITH NO HAPPY ENDING

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

"No, no, no," Ghost whispered in a sickly soft tone, "Keep your eyes open, Eclipse." He held a gloved hand to your face and sharply pulled your leaning head upright. "Please," you hoarsely coughed out, "I don't know anything." Your eyes stung with salty tears as he coldly looked back into your eyes. "We all know that's bullshit," he spat before turning from you and looking at a variety of tools at his disposal. You gritted your teeth and shut your eyes in preparation. Each member had their own method of "questioning" from Gaz's psychological mind games and sensory deprivation to the degradation and waterboarding methods from Price, you were thrown into hysterics after each session. You had long forgotten the comfort of a warm meal by now as you were fed the bare minimum and received the smallest of water droplets. While your limbs were sore from the restraints and the small burns from the cigarettes and cigars from your former team, you always feared when Ghost was in the room. The cruelty you had endured these last few days specifically from your lieutenant made you feel like you had gone to hell. 

You heard a variety of tools clatter around as you tried to think of a paradise far from the one you were in. A week ago, your team was compromised on a mission with an assassination initiative. After the dust settled, the internal hard drives, records of communications, and hidden listening devices lead to you as the mole. Despite your protests, you were dragged into an all too familiar area. "Open your eyes, Eclipse," Ghost demanded but you shook your head violently. Your insolence was met with a hard punch to the nose and as blood dripped slowly onto your bruised face, you saw in your clouded vision the violent sparks of a taser. You couldn't help but sob upon seeing him tease you with the device, activating it close to your face and mocking you with it. "Just tell us where Makarov is and we'll let you go," he comforted. You shook violently in protest before you were sent teeth gritting and toes gripping into a violent shock sent to your abdomen. "I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING." you protested but the assault continued with your screams becoming enveloped into the soundproof walls. Despite being a trained soldier, there was nothing that could prepare you for this. Every time you fell out of consciousness, you would wake to his cold eyes staring back at you. "I'm getting Soap," he said with the same nauseating tone, "I think it's time you get some rest."

You shuttered and tried to hold in the tears that burned into the various cuts on your face and chest. When Soap entered the room with a bitter demeanor, you tried to scream in a fruitless attempt at ceasing this ordeal. "No one can hear you," he joked before he violently pushed your chair backward and you fell in a painful thud on the floor. "What are you going to do with me?" you whispered in fear before you felt him turn the chair back over with your face hitting the cold concrete. Before he could do anything more, there was a knock at the door. Ghost and Soap looked at one another before Ghost opened the door to reveal Price and Gaz with horrified expressions. "Yes, Captain?" Ghost asked impatiently before Price gestured for Soap to come closer to the group. While your ears rang in pain from the sudden movements, you knew you heard what your captain said. "It's not them," he uttered and you could see everyone's stained boots turn to your beaten, bruised, and broken form. Price and Gaz rushed to undo your binds, screaming apologies and promises for treatment. You couldn't help but have a tired smile on your bleeding lip as you looked at Ghost. Despite your gaze on his, he couldn't bring himself to look back at you. He only knew that the hands covered in blood, your blood, were irreversible.

[7ndipity]

Take Care Of You

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: After a particularly rough week, you come down with the flu. Luckily, you have Yoongi to look after you, even if you think you don’t deserve it.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: mentions of illness, swearing, teeny bit suggestive and silly at the end, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

It was still dark as you woke up shivering, your whole body aching as you rolled over, seeking out the warmth of your boyfriend. After less than two minutes though, he tried to shift out of your hold, making you whine.

“Babe, I’m melting,” He complained sleepily, trying to squirm away. “Why are you so warm?”

You only groaned weakly in response.

Yoongi’s eyes cracked open at the small, pained sound, looking down at you with sudden concern. “Babe? Are you okay?”

“I don’t-”, a sudden fit of coughing seized you, shaking your whole body.

“Ah, shit.” He clicked the light on, making you wince at the sudden brightness, sitting up to get a better look at you. Your face was pale and covered with a faint sheen of sweat, your whole frame shaking violently from shivering, despite the heat rolling off of you.

“I told you you’ve been working too hard.” He sighed, feeling your forehead. “Stay here, I’m gonna go get you some medicine.”

He disappeared through the house as you curled further in on yourself, trying to ignore the pounding in your head.

You knew he was right, though you hated that he had to be proven right in this way. You’d been pushing yourself harder than usual the past few days, trying to keep up with the usual demands at work, as well trying to get ahead on a few projects in the hope that you and Yoongi could take some time off together.

He had expressed several times that he’d been worried about you, but you’d kept brushing him off, saying that you were fine, your usual response whenever he voiced those types of concerns. He had enough on his plate, oftentimes stretching himself thinner than you had this week, and you didn’t want to add the burden of looking after you to the list.

He returned with a couple pills and some water, encouraging you gently to sit up before he handed them to you.

You took the meds with a slight wince, feeling the soreness in your throat, before trying to pass the glass back to him, but he shook his head, nudging it back towards your lips.

“Drink, you need to pay extra attention to hydration if you’re sick.” He said matter-of-factly.

“You sound like Web Md.” You tried to tease him, but your voice came out too weak and cracked.

“Drink.” He said again sternly, though his eyes stayed soft.

You relented, nodding before slowly finishing the glass.

“I’m sorry.” You croaked.

“Shh, it’s okay. Just sleep, okay?” He said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

He helped you get settled back under the covers before returning to his side of the bed, keeping a watchful eye over you until you managed to drift back to sleep.

You don’t know how long you were asleep for, but when you opened your eyes again, it was light out, Yoongi’s side of the bed empty. You assumed he’d left for the studio, leaving you to get what rest you could, though you tried to ignore the faint pang of sadness in your chest at the thought.

Slowly, you sat up, stretching out your stiff limbs. You could tell your fever had broken, or at least lessened, you were only faintly aching now, though the dull pounding in your head was still very much present.

You decided to make the trek to the kitchen for some tea and more meds, looking for an extra sweater or hoodie to pull on for warmth before shuffling down the hall.

“What are you doing up?” You jumped slightly at the sound of Yoongi’s voice, turning to see him standing in the doorway, carrying a tray of food and tea.

“What are you doing here?” You asked in surprise.

He smirked. “I really hope you’re not so sick that you forgot I live here.”

“I mean why are you still here? Why aren’t you at the studio?” You asked.

“I told them I couldn’t come in today.” He answered, setting the tray on the bedside table.

“Why not?” You asked, confused.

“Because you’re sick,” He said as if it was obvious. “I’m not leaving to fend for yourself.”

“I’m fine-” Your argument was choked off by another fit of coughing. Yoongi quickly moved to steady you as you wobbled slightly, your legs not supporting you nearly as much as you’d hoped.

“You’re not fine.” He said softly once you’d quieted. “Please, just let me take care of you?”

Reluctantly, you nodded, letting him help you back to the bed, tucking the blanket in around your

legs before settling the tray on your lap.

“How are you feeling?” He asked gently, handing you a cup of tea. You blinked, surprised that

he’d remembered the right herbal blend you liked for times like this.

You glanced up at him, noticing that he was watching you, waiting patiently for your response.

“My head hurts.” You admitted quietly.

“These should help.” He said, opening a bottle and handing you a couple pills. “Anything else?”

You shook your head. “Not really, I just feel kinda shitty.”

“A shower might help with that.” He said, chuckling at your choice of words, happy that you still sounded like yourself. “Will you be okay on your own or do you want me to help?”

“I’ll be okay on my own.” You said softly, staring at him curiously.

“Okay. You should eat something first, though.” He said, sliding a bowl of soup over in front of you. “Then, if you want, I can set you up on the couch and we can watch one of your shows?”

When you didn’t answer, he looked up, catching the way you were staring at him.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

You shook your head. “You’re just being really nice.” You said.

He tilted his head. “I’m always nice to you.”

“But all this-” You bit your lip. “You didn’t have to do any of this.”

“What are you talking about?” He said softly. “This is nothing, I’m just looking after you the way you deserve.”

You didn’t feel like it, you felt like you were getting in his way, keeping him away from his own work and responsibilities.

“Nuh-uh, I know that look.” He caught your chin with his fingers, turning your eyes back up to his, looking at you seriously. “Whatever’s going on in your head right now, it isn’t true. You deserve to be taken care of, you hear me?”

When you didn’t answer, he sighed, cupping your face in his hands.

“Y/n, I love you, I want to take care of you. I actually like getting to take care of you, when you let me, that is.” He added, making you crack a tiny grin. “Okay?”

You nodded. “Okay.”

Good, now c’mere.” He said, trying to pull you into a kiss, but you pressed a hand against his chest.

“What if you get sick?” You asked.

“I don’t give a shit. And even if I do, then you can take care of me, that’s how relationships work.” He said stubbornly, leaning in again.

You let him connect your lips for just a second before pulling away again.

“Yoongi?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.” You said.

“You’re welcome.” He replied. “Now, eat your soup before it gets cold, and then you can take your shower, unless maybe now you want me to help you with it?” He raised a brow at you.

“Stop trying to flirt with me, I’m sick!” You laughed.

“Who’s trying? I’m succeeding, you blushed!” He defended, pointing to your flushed cheeks.

“I did not, I have a fever!”

“Uh-huh, sure. Whatever you say, Babe.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

[formula-nyoom]

Hello hello hope you are swell 🩵 I see you do platonic drivers 👀👀

Could it be possible to request a platonic! Reader who is a younger sister (that is also a driver, any team) to a driver of your choice who is given either a drink or meal before going on the race and getting a severe allergic reaction. Like rushed to the hospital asap reaction please 🥺

A/N: The only thing I’m allergic to is bullshit(and mosquitoes), so I don’t know what it’s like to have an allergic reaction to food. Hopefully I wrote this ok but do let me know if there are things I need to change. I decided to keep this as a blurb only because it's so similar to the last oneshot I wrote and I went with Oscar for this one

~~~

“Shouldn’t they be back by now with our drink bottles refilled?” Your teammate asked as you looked over some data. The race was set to start in just under an hour and the matter your teammate was more concerned about is the assistant that had gone to refill both your drink bottles rather than look over data with you.

 “They only left a minute ago. I know you’re used to everything going fast but they’re not a race car.”

 “Well they better be back soon with my energy drink. I have to drink one before every race. Helps with my performance.” Your teammate said. You just rolled your eyes. 

The assistant soon came back with both your drink bottles refilled. You thanked them and took it. As you were about to take a swig, your phone vibrated with a text from your brother, Oscar. 

Papaya-Bro: Chit chat before the race?

More often than not, you and Oscar would find each other in your respective drivers rooms to talk before the race. It was a small amount of time where the two of you would talk about anything but racing, giving the two of you a sense of peace before you had to face the chaos of Formula One. You sent him a text that you were on your way over and made your way to the McLaren garage. Some of the McLaren workers waved at you as you walked in, having gotten used to you making appearances in the garage to see your brother.

“Mom wants to know what she should cook for dinner when we come back home.” Oscar said, looking down at his phone while sitting in a chair.

“I’ve been craving her meatloaf for the past couple days. Ask her if she'll make that.” You said, taking a sip from your drink bottle. Your face scrunched up in disgust as you tasted something that wasn’t water on your tongue. You ended up swallowing whatever it was you just drank as your first reflex was to gag at the taste of whatever you consumed. It was sour, with a hint of fruitiness. 

 “What’s wrong?” Oscar asked.

“This isn’t water.” You said, handing him your drink bottle. “Taste this for me.”

You gagged again and then started to cough as Oscar took a swig of the mysterious drink.

 “Yea, that’s not water.” He said. “It’s got a–”

“--fruity taste.” You started to cough more violently while trying to gasp for breath. Your throat felt like it was closing in on itself as you struggled to breath.

Oscar didn’t have time to figure out exactly what the drink was. He was able to guess what was in it though as he witnessed you starting to have a severe allergic reaction to whatever the mysterious drink was.

 “I need medical assistance!” He called out into the hallway, hoping anyone heard him. Oscar quickly opened the front pocket of his backpack that always carried the spare epipen and grabbed it. By now you had gotten down to the floor, still struggling to breathe. Kneeling down in front of you, Oscar steadied the orange tip over your outer thigh, before having it make contact with the fabric of your race suit. He pushed the auto inject button till he heard the click. He then looked down at his watch to watch the seconds go by.

 “One…two…three…”Oscar then removed the epipen and checked to see if it went in. But to his horror, there was no puncture hole from the needle. Of course race suits that were designed to keep a driver safe from getting burned or injured in a crash can prevent a needle from going through the fabric. 

 “I NEED SERIOUS MEDICAL ASSISTANCE!” Oscar yelled again. This time someone seemed to have heard him as a McLaren worker came in with a medic right behind them.

“She’s having an allergic reaction! The epi pen didn’t puncture through the race suit!”

The medic took out a pair of scissors and an epi pen before they started quickly cutting the pant leg of your race suit and fire proofs. Once the material was cut away enough to reveal the skin of your upper thigh, the medic didn’t hesitate in administering the epipen, which successfully went through this time. Oscar helped steady the pen while the medic put an oxygen mask over your face to help you breathe while the medicine worked its way through your system. 

Eventually you were able to breathe again and your throat no longer felt like it was closing up. But you and Oscar both knew that you couldn’t just hop in the car and race. You’d have to be taken to the hospital to make sure whatever allegens you had consumed were fully out of your system. Oscar made sure one of the McLaren personnel went over to your team garage to inform your team that you had an allergic reaction and could no longer race today, before he helped you up off the floor and handed you off to the medical staff.

 “Kick their asses for me.” You said to Oscar before leaving, your voice raspy from coughing. 

“Will do.” He promised.

~~~

Oscar was a bit rattled throughout the race because of what had taken place just before it. That wasn’t the first time he had to administer an epipen for you, he’s seen you have allergic reactions before. But the fact that it didn’t work the first time is what really freaked him out. But knowing that you were ok and breathing was enough for him to score P3. And the fact that he beat your teammate seemed to make you happy so Oscar took that as a win.

“Because I saved your life today, can you let me freely pass you during the next race and defend me from the people behind?” Oscar asked as he drove you home from the hospital. 

 “You didn’t save my life. The medical staff did.” You said, playing with the medical band around your wrist.

“I attempted to! If our race suits weren’t made so tough to protect us from crashes, you wouldn’t have needed to be rushed here.”

 “That’s kinda a big flaw with the race suits. They can protect us from fiery crashes but prevent someone from administering an epi pen.” You noted.

 “I’ll talk with the FIA tomorrow to propose new safety regulations so race suits have to be made so a giant needle can break through the fabric. I’m sure that will go over well with the other drivers.” Oscar joked. Your phone buzzed and you looked down to see a text from yours and Oscar’s manager.

 “Mark just texted me. Apparently the energy drinks my teammate has before every race are now banned from the garage. Turns out it’s got lychee in it.” You told your brother.

 “Honestly they should have been banned from the start to prevent what happened today.” Oscar said. You nodded in agreement.

 “So you’re not going to let me pass during the next race?” Oscar asked. You rolled your eyes.

“Only if you defend me from my teammate if they end up behind you. Which is often.”

[bougiebutchbinch]

AOB AU where Logan, much like real wolverines, has multiple life mates, and so far, he has a little harem of Omega Wade who he raises "kits" with, Omega Morph, and Beta Kurt (who dosn't even need bred he just used to help Logan out with his ruts and they never broke up once Logan found his omegas)

And he alternates them, scheduling each of their dick appointments weeks in advance of their heats. Sometimes, Morph can trick their heat by morphing into an alpha, but if their alpha is around, they can't mea while Kurt dosn't have heats and is just kinda here for some extra fun and the cuddle piles that accure during Logan's Ruts, when they all hunker down in the bedroom and kurt is sent to teleport supplies in.

For the most part, it's just Logan taking turns pounding them, letting the others watch and growling at them if they get too close. Their hierarchy is pretty basic on who gets mounted first. It goes Wade, Kev, and then Kurt.

Wade has to go first to get all of Logans feralness out and because if not, Wade gets too jealous and growls at kevin while theyre being bred, which ultimately leads to Logan having to snarl at him to behave and be patient.

Wade is all up for sharing but he wants to be the dominant bitch. This isn't really an issue for Kev since they have a lot of anxiety and insecurity, being in heat makes it way worse.

It's not that Wade has an issue sharing his Alpha its just that he's the 'alpha' omega and by the time hes fucked out and filled, if anything he tries to nuzzle them all. Once in a good while Logan will allow Kurt to mount kev while hes dealing with wades bratty ass, having to constantly reclaim him because of how quickly his marking heals.

By the end of it Logan snuggles them all in the huge 'den' he made out of smelly clothes and the bloody matress. It's a purr fest from there on out, passing a cigar around and chugging water.

It makes Logan to happy to see his omegas (and beta) satisfied and getting along.

The kits in question being foster kittens and puppies from the shelter, Or Bamfs if they're isn't a healthy litter old enough for raising.

Logan will keep them in the den, carrying them around and growling if wade tries to play too rough with them, sometimes dragging wade to his "kits" and forcing him to stay there while he hunts for him COUGH makes dinner COUGH.

Puppins is excited either way, being gentle with them but sometimes getting jealous if her papa doesn't give her equal attention.

Once the litter is old enough to be adopted out, Wade has to give him the "They're big enough to go without us now" talk and watch as their "kits" go to different families.

By then, when all the "kits" get adopted, it throws Logan into another rut. Because good wolverine dads usually always have at least one litter to look after.

In between litters, his other kits being "too old" dosn't stop him from trying to put gabby laura and Puppins in a nest too when they visit.

"Dad stop you're being weird."

"I just want to make sure you're safe."

"You're being drimatic!"

"You need to rest >:("

"Im an adult now I don't need to-"

"Get in the fucking blankets!"

"Litsen to your father pumpkin or else he's just gonna be pouty all night about it." Wade chimes in with a sigh.

She rolls her eyes, sitting in the stupid blanket pile, and Logan is the happiest thing on earth, cuddling all his babies and slicing anyone who comes near them.

Logan and his kits, even if they're already 24>>>>>>

HOLLERS

HOLY SHIT YOU CANNOT DO THIS TO MEEEEEE I just scraped together the energy to crawl outta bed and make food...... now i gotta brace myself on the kitchen counter like I'm having a medical event lol

ThIS GOT ME GOOD!!!! FERAL DAD WOLVIE MY BELOVED... TOP BITCH WADE (at least, he thinks he is)......

Also love the idea that Wade Goes First because he GAGS for Logan getting violent with him... so, when Logan's in full Feral Horny Stabby mode, he can bite Wade and fold him in half in ways that would genuinely HURT anyone else - even Kurt's flexible ass! - and Wade is just drooling and moaning and egging him on... Once Logan's fucked the snarling Alpha-rage out of his system, he can move into fluffy softe mode with his other partners..... and with Wade, ofc! He gets SOOOOO snuggly and warm.... like he's still growly and claiming whenever they wiggle, but he's full of purrs........

GOD I LOVE THIS SILLY LITTLE FAMILY

[cottonlemonade]

Mayhem At The Festival

word count: 630 || avg. reading time: 3 mins.

pairing: Matsukawa x chubby!Reader (feat. Seijoh 4)

genre: fluff

warnings: none

request: I take a menu A with a soda and a matcha roll and sit next to Mattsun || fluffy school festival with crush Mattsun

The Seijoh four’s laughter could be heard all the way down the corridor of Aoba Johsai High School. Well, not all of them. Between Makki gasping for air and clutching his stomach, Iwaizumi starting to wheeze, hanging off of Oikawa’s shoulder who was holding up his phone requesting a few cute poses, Mattsun did not have a good time.

To be fair, it was foolish of him to think his friends would not tease him for this - or that a picture of him wouldn’t be in the next issue of the school paper. Bemused he tugged at the skirt that barely came down to his mid-thigh and looked around the room of his classmates in more or less obvious and failed attempts to hide their howling laughter. And all of that just to help you out.

When you had come in that morning for the festival, everyone swarmed around you, asking with much concern how your arm ended up in a sling. You had quickly relayed the tale of your way to school and how some guy on a motorbike didn’t think it necessary to follow basic driving rules, having grazed you on your bicycle and sending you tumbling down an embankment.

Luckily it was nothing more serious, but a sprained wrist and elbow would definitely keep you from any possible manual labor today. Your shoulders slumped. You had been looking forward to the festival for weeks, especially when the sewing club revealed the costumes for the maid café. You swore you would wear the adorable uniform whenever you could because how often did a chubby girl with more curves than any roadmap find a maid costume tailored to her exact specifications. In your mind you had seen yourself gliding through the many guests of the little café attraction set up in classroom 3-2 and privately hoped that Issei would forget his duties with the volleyball team and come visit as well. In your imagination he wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off you and you would wow him with your dazzling smile and maid persona, laying it on extra thick just for him. But all that lovely daydreaming was shattered because someone ignored a red light.

Much to your surprise, however, Issei had broken the morose silence that followed your apology to the event coordinator and blurted out he would take your place.

No one took him seriously at first, of course, but when he didn’t join in the giggles and chuckles around the room, the class president had looked him up and down, squinted (possibly imagining him in the costume) and just nodded with a shrug.

After a good 15 minutes of more laughing and one joke after the other the students started to scatter, getting back to their original tasks. Mattsun sulked in a corner, shifting uncomfortably in the costume but brightened quite a bit when he spotted you coming over to him.

“Thank you so much.”, you said and he took a few seconds to answer, being too distracted by the blush on your cheeks.

“I’d say “no problem” but that would be a lie.”, he replied and you laughed.

“I can make it up to you!”, you said quickly.

“Oh yeah?”

You nodded, thinking he would probably want to be reimbursed for the physical and mental trauma ahead in his day.

“I could… do your homework for a week… or… take over during your cleaning duties once my arm heals or…”

“Go out with me?”

You gasped, then coughed violently at having swallowed too much air. He gave an embarrassed frown and pouted.

“Yes.”, you pressed out between coughs, “Yes, I’d love to.”

“Good.”, he beamed, “Then, my lady-”, he got into maid character, “may I pour you some water to soothe your throat?”

a/n: I had the best time writing this silliness ^^ thank you so much for the request @makkir0ll - I hope you enjoyed it 🌟🫶🏻

[daceydeath]

I Want to Watch (part 7)

Pairing: Wooyoung x reader x Yeosang Word Count: 2.2K Genre: Pure Filth 🔞 Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Swearing, Explicit Activities

a/n: not as spicy as the last one but they cant all be that spicy x

Since sharing you with a few of the members Wooyoung discovers yet another thing that he likes with the help of another guest

“I’m sorry, did you want to repeat that?” Yeosang coughed violently as you wandered out of the bedroom into the kitchen, his phone discarded on the seat beside him.

“Hey Sangie, are you ok? Did you need some water?” you asked concerned as you watched him cough and turn tomato red, his eyes wide.

“I’m ok” he reassured you, dropping his voice to whisper sharply at your boyfriend. Shrugging you just continued into the kitchen turning on the kettle and getting out a cup for the hot chocolate you were going to make.

“I said are you interested in fucking my girlfriend? I mean if you don’t want to that is totally fine neither of us will be offended”. Wooyoung cackled as you rolled your eyes and kept your back to them both hoping to give Yeosang the impression that he had at least a little privacy while they had this conversation.

“She is right there you idiot” he hissed trying to keep his voice down “Why would you even ask me something like that?”.

“Oh well, it’s sort of a thing we are trying out. Like a kink we're exploring” Wooyoung started to explain, obviously unsure of how to get Yeosang to understand. You continued making your hot chocolate stirring the mixture noisily as possible to cover their voices.

“Eww, I didn’t need to know that!” Yeosang interrupted hastily.

“Shut up. Anyway she has already fucked San, Yunho and Jongho so it’s not like you are the first one I’ve asked also I’m not going to fuck you she is so don’t get all stroppy” Wooyoung continued.

“It is entirely up to you Sangie, I would never be offended if you aren’t interested or too weirded out by the whole thing” you smiled softly leaving the room to go back to Wooyoung’s room sipping the chocolate concoction happily.

“You’re both serious? Like this isn’t a weird friendship test or anything?” Yeosang cautiously asked his voice closer to normal at this point which made you breathe a sigh of relief, you were going to have to tell Wooyoung that he couldn't just ask his friends by dropping the old do you want to fuck my girl on them.

Returning to your book you continued to sip and read for another two chapters before there was a tentative knock on the open door. You looked up to see Yeosang standing there nervously with an excited looking Wooyoung behind him.

“Would it be ok if I kissed you to see if I want to go through with this?” he asked gently, stepping into the room but not coming any closer to you.

“I would like that if it would make it easier for you to decide” you nodded, getting off the bed to meet him in the middle of the room swaying your hips just enough to get his eyes to dart down your body. Placing your hands softly on his chest you waited to see if he was ok with you touching him. After a moment his hand moved to cup your cheek stroking your cheekbone with his thumb carefully, you couldn’t help but smile at how sweet he was being, looking up at him through your lashes you almost thought he was going to turn you down until he swiftly pressed his lips to yours causing you to gasp and tighten your grip on his clothes.

Delving his tongue between your lips he licked into your mouth sensually letting his tongue dance with yours before tightly gripping your hip and pulling you closer. The involuntary whine that left your throat made him groan deeply as you let him continue to take what he wanted from you if it would lead to him being able to make a decision. Breaking for air you couldn’t help feeling a little dazed at how intense Yeosang had kissed you when he seemed like such a sweet and soft boy.

“So what can’t I do again?” Yeosang asked, turning back to Wooyoung who was watching on with a shit eating grin.

“Anything she wants you to except eat her out only I get to decide if you can taste my pussy” Woyoung ground out his voice much deeper than before. A shiver running up your spine in anticipation of what Yeosang was going to do to you.

“I’d say it’s about to be my pussy” Yeosang snorted his hand sliding down to squeeze your arse before kissing you again roughly his teeth tugging your lower lip teasingly. Walking you backwards towards the bed the kiss only ended when your calves collided with the bed frame and you fell backward Yeosang catching you at the last moment to prevent you crashing into the mattress. Yelping in surprise he gave you a devilish grin pulling his shirt over his head before grabbing your pants and tugging both them and your underwear off before he climbed over you his hands slipping under your shirt to squeeze and tease your breast as his lips found yours again his tongue tangling with yours.

“Shit” Wooyoung breathed huskily. You could hear him moving closer to the bed but you couldn’t concentrate with the way Yeosang was kissing you your fingers tracing the beautiful planes of his chest.

“This needs to come off” Yeosang mumbled kneeling up so he could pull your shirt over your head immediately latching onto one of your nipples through the fabric of your bra, biting it carefully before suckling on it.

“Fuck Sangie” you gasped your hands clutching at his biceps to keep yourself grounded your hips rolling again him with abandon.

“Good girl let Sangie treat you like the good little slut you are” Wooyoung cooed, unzipping his own jeans and tugging at his cock. 

“Can’t taste you but a can get you wet” Yeosang smirked darkly moving so that he was kneeling back on his heels his tongue running over his teeth before he leant over your core a fat drop of saliva falling from his lips landing on your clit and making you jolt smearing his spit all over your folds he continued to stare another glob of saliva dripping from his lips onto your entrance he began pushing it inside you with two of his fingers stretching your walls roughly as he pumped them into you.

“Sanigie, holy shit” you gasped your body responding to him faster than your brain could catch up. 

“Wooyo, get her shirt and bra off. If you’re going to watch, at least be helpful” Yeosang grumbled his eyes piercing you to your spot on the bed as he continued to drag his fingers against your walls, his thumb now pressing against your clit pressing and circling your bundle of nerves your hips rolling against his fingers.

“I will kick you out Sang don’t test me” Wooyoung snapped even though he followed Yeosang’s request to get you completely nude for him.

“You won't, you want to watch me own her” Yeosang grinned pulling his fingers from you to show your boyfriend how your arousal almost dripped from the digits. “Open your mouth for me pretty girl” he raised his eyebrow at you challenging you to disobey him but you were more than happy to let him do whatever he liked with you holding your chin firmly he dropped a thick hot sting of spit onto your tongue making Wooyoung hiss from his spot on the bed. You swallowed with a flourish opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out to show him that it was gone.

“Dirty little baby” Wooyoung whined, his voice already higher than usual you preened under their gaze.

“On your front pretty girl I want your boyfriend to watch me destroy your messy little cunt” Yeosang instructed you smoothly, his smokey voice making you groan in anticipation as you faced Wooyoung, his face already looking dazed while he pumped himself rhythmically. You heard Yeosang unzip his jeans before his hand harshly pressed your shoulders down leaving your arse in the air as he placed one hand on your hip to hold you in place. Without warning he sunk into you his cock stretching you more than his fingers had and punching the air from your lungs as he bottomed out. Pounding into you roughly his hips slapping against your skin loudly with each thrust, the power of them almost pushing you forward if not for the tight grip he had on your hips making you flop your head to the bed starting to feel dizzy from the feeling of his cock splitting you wide open.

“Fuck you're going to split her in half” Wooyoung complained halfheartedly his hand moving in time with Yeosang’s hips.

“Does she look broken?” Yeosang snickered, the only other sound in the room besides skin crashing together and Wooyoung’s heavy breathing was the constant string of moans and mewls falling from your lips.

“Ah… Ah… Sangie” you gasped in between the noises you couldn’t help but make you heard him grunt his fingers digging deeper into the plush flesh of your hips another glob of saliva landing on the tight ring of muscle that wasn’t being filled slowly once of his thumbs began circling it pressing against you until he could sink it inside you. 

“Doesn’t your boyfriend look like he’s enjoying himself?” Yeosang rasped his voice shaking with his exertion as he continued to relentlessly bury himself in your wet plush walls.

“Woo… Wooyoung” you whined lifting your head to meet his eyes, his hooded eyes dark and his lips pink and swollen from biting his lip as he watched you. You let your eyes drag down his body stopping at his rock hard leaking cock that made your mouth water. 

“Look at you baby looking so pretty” he slurred while Yeosang huffed out a short laugh letting his other hand fall around your waist to tease your clit mercilessly making you keen loudly, your eyes squeezing shut while your legs began to shake. “Open your eyes baby”.

“Do as your told pretty girl” Yeosang ordered his voice low as he waited until Wooyoung grunted again before his fingers returned to your puffy and abused clit each sharp movement of his fingers making it hard for you to focus on anything other than the way his cock felt dragging almost painfully against your walls as your arsehole tightened around his thumb.

“Oh my god Sangie… Fuck it’ too much” you keened pushing yourself back against him to force him deeper inside you. Your mouth fell open as his angle changed and he was now kissing your cervix with each thrust of his hips pulling his thumb from you he held you hip again bruisingly pulling you back to meet each snap of his hips.

"At least have her suck you off Wooyoung! Don't waste such a pretty little mouth" Yeosang grunted as you tightened further around him the smoldering in your belly beginning to spread.

“Shit baby, shit, shit, shit” Wooyoung wailed his hand furiously pumping his length, the precum on the head of his cock glistening in the light as he fucked his hand faster only moving to shove himself down your throat when you opened your mouth and let your tongue fall out over your bottom lip. You could taste the salty musky tang of his nearing release as he harshly fucked as deep as he could into your throat you jaw relaxing instinctively to fit him.

“You take me so well pretty girl, fuck I could get you pregnant like this” Yeosang moaned his voice deep and smokey “would you like that? Like me to fuck a baby into this tight little cunt”.

“Yes…Yes Yeosang… Please. Please ” you sobbed desperately letting your boyfriend's cock fall from your mouth, coming undone around him, the muscles in your legs shaking violently as your walls fluttered and pulsed with almost painfully intense pleasure. Yeosang kept his pace to prolong your orgasm, your eyes rolling as your entire body felt like you were crackling with electricity. You felt him stiffen slightly before his hot seed flooded you, his hands holding your hips flush to him as he groaned loudly, rolling his hips with less urgency as you milked him dry. Wooyoung followed only a moment later thick ropes of his cum dripping down your throat and flooding your mouth as he continued to slide himself along your tongue.

“Fuck” Wooyoung mumbled carefully pulling himself from your swollen lips and wiping the few droplets that escaped the corner of your mouth “I think I just discovered I have a breeding kink”.

“Of course you have Woo” you swallowed panting, feeling the cool air hit your tender and sticky folds as Yeosang pulled away from you and reached for the tissues beside Wooyoung’s bed. 

“To be honest I assumed he already had that one” Yeosang scrunched up his nose, helping you to lay on your back and also clean you up being careful to be gentle with you.

“I’d be more surprised if he found a kink he didn’t like” you shrugged, making room for Yeosang to lay down to recover and bask in his post nut glow for a moment.

“Actually fair” he agreed, both of you looking towards your still spaced out boyfriend “Is he alright?”.

“Um, probably? If he doesn’t move in the next fifteen minutes we will worry” you sighed, closing your eyes for a moment.  

“Have to admit I didn’t expect this was going to be happening today. But you are incredible” Yeosang yawned softly.

“You aren’t so bad yourself Sangie” you mumbled shyly pulling the sheets over the both of you so that you could keep warm until you got the energy to get up and shower. Wooyoung finally moved handing you a bottle of water that sat beside the bed Yeosang helping you to sit up and sip slowly.

a/n: Thank you for reading lovelies I adore you all and I am so grateful for your likes, reblogs, comments and support you are amazing xx

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz @armystay89 @damnyouficc @roamingpolar

@tara-skyhold @bakedlilgoonie @krishastumblernow @mrsseals16 @fawnpeaks

@leeknowinggg @tanzen-ist-gold @taz-97 @ocean-dreamer-sky-chaser @everythingboutkpop @tunafishyfishylike

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@skersey33 @jintastic-day @hwxbibi @onmykneesforateez @skittyneos @thjksnsh

[lucifermonsii]

Ghost x sick Male Reader

M/N waking up one morning with a fever.

Genre: Fluff

Suddenly waking up with a violent cough one morning and a sore throat, groaning as he sat up and checking his phone to look at the time.

10:25 a.m.

Shit he was way too late for training.

Sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose— knowing that his lieutenant was going to break into his room and scold at him. He picked up the bottle of water at your nightstand and took a sip to hydrate his throat before placing it back down, accepting defeat as he realise that he's sick.

Exhaustion washes over him as a dry cough escapes his lips, groaning dryly before laying back down at his bed and pulling the blankets over his body. Eyes shutting before slowly drifting to sleep.

Moments later...

A loud sound of his door swinging open awoke him out of surprise, sitting up out of shock with his half lidded eyes. Staring at the lieutenant that stood before him with crossed arms over his chest, eyes looking down at him with disappointment behind the skull mask he always wore.

"Tell me M/N, why didn't you show up for training?"

He questions M/N with a raised eyebrow, tone full of authority and his husky voice not helping with poor sick M/N.

"M' sorry sir, I just don't feel well this morning.."

He trails off before coughing and grunting and adjusting his seating position on the bed to be a bit more comfortable, staring at Ghost through tired eyes. Sniffing and keeping his soft blanket around himself.

A soft sigh escapes Ghost's lips as he pinches the bridge of his nose, eyebrows furrowed behind his black balaclava. Feeling a bit guilty that his lover is sick.

"Sweetheart we've went over this, you dont have to refer me formally when we're together"

He sighs while walking towards the sick man, placing his cloth hand on his neck to check his temperature before removing it with a disappointment gaze towards the man before him.

"You're going to have to stay in.. I'll go to the medic to get some medicine for you"

"B- but-"

"No butt's."

He responds sternly before disappearing from the door.

Later.

There they lay together on the bed as a warm blankets draps over their bodies, M/N's face shoved in between Ghost's big naturals as if they were soft pillows that were blessed by the angels above.

Arms wrapped around Ghost's toned bodies as he falls into a deep slumber, soft and warm breathing against hit chest as the bigger man holds the back of his head. Whispering sweet nothings into his ear as they both slept. The medicine hits hard.

[sscieloz]

Heartbeat

Shin Ryujin x reader

Synopsis: you’ve promised to take your best friend to an awaited party, located in a nearby city. Ryujin catches your eye, and you fall right into her web of plans, with the promise of having a good time once and for all.

Warnings: mentions of gangs, guns and drugs. smut. blood. violence. nsfw.

Word count: 13.8k

Notes: i thought abt this after watching ryujin’s solo mv! it was so good <3. this was a fairly new topic for me to write about, so I apologize if it’s poorly written or unrealistic. nevertheless, I had lots of fun writing it ˆˆ. english is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

You don’t mind helping out your parents by working at the family’s Diner: there usually weren’t many customers, and days went by slowly without you being bothered.

“Hey, Y/n. Can I grab another soda?” Your best friend asks, brushing her hands in front of your face to get your attention. Facing you from the other side of the diner’s endless counter, Chaeryeong looks like a hyper child, standing up from her seat to take a look at the soda machine, placed behind your frame.

You roll your eyes at her, simply grabbing the large cup she hands you and filling it up with Coke Zero, this time. “Here.”

“Awn, man, come on!” She protests, grunting. Lets her head fall back. “Coke Zero tastes like shit, Y/n! Give me something tasty, damn.” Chaeryeong turns to the few other customers, gesticulating, “What does a girl have to do to get the good stuff around here? Stop with the misery!”

She has her finger pointed at you, to which you giggle. You’ve known Chaery since your diaper days, with her living in the house in front of yours, and the two of you have been best friends ever since. Her careless, playful nature provides a nice balance to your calm, responsible one. You love her to pieces, which means you are always taking care of the dark-haired girl, in many ways.

“You’ve reached your daily quota of sugar.” You don’t even look at her as you answer, busy giving an elder woman her exchange in cash. “And don’t make those faces. I might as well just give you water, from now on.” Smiling at the customer, you ignore your friend. “Thank you, ma’am! Have a pleasant day.” Chaeryeong gulps, knowing fully well you mean your words.

She keeps her thoughts to herself, mumbling something incoherent while the loud slurps of the iced drink can be heard. Still not paying her much attention, you lean your elbows on the counter marble, sighing tiredly. Even though it was only an hour past noon, you could feel the heaviness in your eyes, the tiredness getting to you. Not having any orders, you allow yourself a few moments of rest, closing your eyes and resting your head on your hands. Just some seconds of peace, you decide.

The bell chime’s noise announces the end of your calm state of mind. In a blink, your sister is placing a medium-sized box on the counter, her usual smile directed at you. You know better than to trust her angelic looks, though — behind her rose gold hair and delicate features, Rosé is nothing but a devious manipulator.

However, she’s still your older sister, and you love her to pieces. It’s the only reason you don’t ignore her, crossing your arms and waiting for her to speak up, instead. She pushes the box towards you, smiling sneakily.

“Good morning, baby sister.” Rosé greets you. As usual, she never goes straight to the point.

You narrow your eyes at her. “It’s past noon, Rosé.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She brushes you off, winking at Chaeryeong to say hello. The girl nearly drowns in her coke, coughing violently.

Chaeryeong has had a massive crush on your sister ever since she was fourteen. Fortunately for you, Rosé has never seen her as anything apart from a little sister too, like yourself. Although the not so subtle rejection has never stopped Chaery from freaking out whenever Rosé addressed or acknowledged her.

“Good morning to you too, Rosie unnie.” She says, after finally gathering her breath. You huff, muttering about how biased she was and being promptly ignored by both girls. The package catches Chaery’s attention, ever so curious, and she pokes it with her bony fingers. “And what’s that about?”

Rosé pulls the package towards you, shrinking her shoulders down a little. For some, she might seem hesitant, but you know her too well to be aware that her movements are anything short of calculated.

“Could you deliver this for me?” She asks —tone dripping with sweetness. It always is, whenever she wants something from you. This is no different. “They asked for the pieces pretty urgently, and I’ll be off to deliver another package in a nearby city in a few minutes.”

Apart from the Diner, your father also owned a mechanical workshop, and would often sell and deliver car pieces to his clients. Rosé, being her outgoing self, dealt with them and the business part of it while you preferred to step aside, helping with the Diner instead. It was only when she had too much work to do that you had to deal with her customers, instead —and those were never pleasant experiences.

Perhaps you were just not cut for the job, or your calm aura was easy to be taken advantage of, but it was a matter of fact: you sucked at negotiating deals and making small talk. It made you uncomfortable and anxious, having to put up a superior act and bargain with assholes until you got enough profit to go home satisfied, so you avoided it vigorously.

Unfortunately, Rosé never hesitated to ask for a hand.

You eye the box suspiciously, trying to figure out the content inside without having to touch it. Even though it seems heavy, you can never truly trust appearances. After all, car pieces are not the only thing they sell at your father’s shop.

“I mean… I could.” You smirk back at Rosé, your identical smiles mirroring one another. “But I don’t want to.”

Before you even register, Rosé smacks you on the head. You’ve never been able to buck from her quick hands anyway.

“Hey!” You massage your scalp, moving your upper body forward to give Chaeryeong a push, too, since the action has her laughing loudly. “Bitch.”

Rosé giggles, too, standing on her tiptoes to give you a kiss on the cheek.

“Pretty please, Y/nnie.” She sighs, joining her hands in a prayer. “I’ll owe you one. I’ll even give you that dress of mine you love, promise.”

Chaeryeong gives you a thumbs up, biased as she’s always been.

“Come on, Y/n, let’s just do it. It’ll be fun! It’s too monotonous to be at the Diner all day, anyway.”

“See?” Rosé gestures to your best friend, pleased to be supported. “Chaery, you’re so sweet.” Your sister pinches her nose, and Chaeryeong’s face turns as red as a strawberry in a matter of seconds. She turns to you once again, then, still faking that hesitation. “Please? It’d be an outstanding deal for us. Lots of profit and all.”

You roll your eyes, still not convinced. Even though Chaery’s eyes are nearly popping off her face with how intensely she’s glaring, you refuse to give in. Rosé was stubborn, but you share the same blood, after all.

“Aren’t any of your friends available? I can’t just close the Diner and go.” Lies. You simply refuse to bulge, to relent to Rosé’s wishes as you always did.

She doesn’t even blink, though, unbothered by your lack of cooperation.

“Lisa, Jisoo, and Jennie are all busy with other work deals too, as well as the boys.” She shrugs, going around the counter to grab a beer for herself. “Trust me, Y/n: if I had anyone to go deliver this, I would… but you know how busy these past weeks have been, and we’re all so overworked. Help me out, please?” She touches the cross hanging on her chest, identical to the one you never took off.

A symbol of your bond.

You sigh, jumping off the balcony and giving in to Rosé’s orders for the nth time. “Fine.” You mumble, grumpy. “Chaeryeong can take care of the place while I go.”

“What the fuck, Y/n!” The girl jumps from her seat, suddenly interested in the conversation as if she hadn’t spent the last five minutes scrolling on her phone, all bored. Suddenly, she’s all ears, eagerly advocating for herself, “I don’t want to do the boring stuff! Let me go with you.”

Before you’re able to tell your friend to get fucked, Rosé stops you with her hands, signaling for someone to come in.

“It’s good for you to not go alone, baby sis. Chaery can make you company.” She nods, grabbing the young girl who came in by the shoulders and positioning her in front of you and Chaeryeong. “This is Rami. She’s Mingyu’s little sister, remember? She said she could handle the diner for a few hours while the two of you are at it. Such a sweetheart, is she not?”

The girl — Rami, nods energetically, looking at your sister with adoration in her glittery eyes. It was no surprise Rosé had brought one of her little fangirls to help, actually. Living in a small city for all your life, everyone knew Rosé. She’s been a notable presence since her teenage years, whether it was attending fancy balls or setting fire to the shops downtown. The blonde girl has been remarkable for as long as you can remember. She’s always been either feared, hated, or loved, but remarkable nonetheless.

Which only proved your theory that you were not going to deliver any car pieces, after all.

You and Chaery exchanged a knowing look, neither caring enough to ask anything about this girl or explain the job she’d have to take at the Diner for free.

“Very well, then.” You sigh, watching Rosé’s excited clapping and giggling. “I’ll grab my car keys.”

Chaeryeong follows you closely, also jumping of joy. You’re well aware she hates being at the Diner, always complaining of boredom, but it isn’t like she has any other friends to go out with. Behind her bubbly, chatty, and energetic personality, she’s is actually very frail and shy, which makes her an easy target for the mean fuckers your age. She struggles, and would much rather just have a single, loyal friend. And you’ve always made sure to protect her fiercely.

“Adventure!! Finally.” The dark-haired girl raises her hands, thanking God you’d go out.

“Don’t get too excited.” You warn her, turning to Rosé. Pointing a finger at the rosy-haired woman, you add. “I hate you.”

She pulls you in for a suffocating hug, used to your harsh behavior. “And I love you so, little sis. Thank you!”

Both Rami and her wave as you and Chaeryeong leave the diner, the package weighing heavily in your hands. You don’t have a big 6th sense, but something does not feel right. Although you ignore it anyway, turning the car on and driving to the address your sister texted you.

-

“Do we really have to do this?” She whines, closing the passenger’s door rather roughly — to which you grunt, paying her a harsh stare for not being careful with your precious car.

She realized the whole thing would be anything but fun sometime mid the 40-minute journey to the abandoned warehouse you were currently walking into. Besides, once you reminded her that Rosé’s request would put off her wishes of going out and partying for a few hours, that little pout of hers hasn’t left her lips. Now, Chaeryeong is all regretful to have supported the older girl in her wishes.

“Not really.” You pay your friend no mind, walking towards the place that was falling into pieces. Seeing you weren’t backing her up, her pout deepened.

“It’s my birthday.” She argues, kicking rocks along the way.

“I already bought you a cake. And milkshake, and fries.” You roll your eyes, remembering how you’d all chanted your best friend happy birthday at your parents’ Diner, during breakfast. “And a shit ton of booze, throughout all these years of knowing you. You haven’t paid me back once.”

Chaeryeong sighs, hurrying to your side, defeated. You keep walking without waiting for her, making it harder for her to catch up — truly opposites, the two of you.

“Fine. But let’s do this quickly. You promised we’d still go to that party.” She decides, playfully bumping into you. Any other time, her actions would’ve helped you to be at ease, but you’re unable to relax this time. You know this is some serious shit.

“Yeah, let’s do this quick.” You repeat her words, entering the abandoned place at a slow, nearly languid pace.

Let you both be out of here in no time. You wish, once again sensing the bad omens.

The warehouse, although old, mistreated and nearly falling into pieces, is not unsettling to you. It’s merely the place Rosé sometimes treats business, and you’ve accompanied her once or twice, before. The wooden beams are rotten, and the flooring has long disappeared, fading into dust that clings to your combat boots. You’d have to clean them later, and that somehow annoys you more than the situation itself. The place is empty, with walls that were once covered by big, expensive windows, yet all that remains are tainted, broken glasses hanging wherever you could look. Machines are still forgotten in random locations inside the building, a ghost of times when the government tried to rebuild the massive area. None of that was successful, obviously. Now, this ghost of a place belongs to your father, your sister, and the other people who were also part of the darker side of this shitty town.

Only a single table hangs in the open area of the first floor, clearly meant for dealerships and businesses. Upon arriving, you notice 5 — no, nearly 10 people waiting not so patiently. Wearing dark, shabby clothes, none of them seem welcoming, to say the least. Rosé had told you’d be doing business with Wendy, a familiar customer from another small town nearby, in hopes to ease down on your nerves. It worked, in a way: having met with Wendy a few times prior, you weren’t all nervous about the upcoming meeting. She was intimidating and oh, so pretty, but you got along well with the auburn-haired woman and her business partners, from previous experiences such as charity dinners and dealerships alongside your sister’s presence.

The woman that stands in front of you, however, looks nothing like Wendy. You know her, naturally; it was impossible not to. Jinsoul’s troublemaker fame was much different than your sister’s — while Rosé’s actions, even though batshit crazy at times, are dreadfully calculated, Jinsoul’s insanity comes with the sole purpose of enticing chaos. Her unstable nature is much of a pain, you’ve personally experienced so from watching herself prove her influence on a crowd by torturing some poor girl who accidentally spilled champagne in her dress at a ceremony, or setting fire to a man’s car at one of the car rifts you often attend. Out of all the girls from her gang, Jinsoul is the least pleasant one to set off deals with.

Naturally, Rosé and Jinsoul hate each other with a passion, being two different flames of the same fire.

With all of that knowledge, you fix your posture, observing Chaeryeong do the same with your peripheral vision. Even though you absolutely despise it, you’ve been taught well how to keep a powerful, imposing façade. Standing tall, you tower over Jinsoul and her subordinates.

“I see Rosé sent her little minion, instead of herself. Must be really busy, of course.” Jinsoul doesn’t greet you, as expected. Her tone is dripping with venom as she examines you and your best friend with harsh eyes.

Now that you’re in front of her, you’re no longer hesitant or scared. Instead, you’re bothered, irritated that you have to deal with your sister’s cheap copy instead of Wendy or Joohyun. Taking a step towards the young woman, you curse Rosé under your breath, fully aware the eventful encounter is not a misunderstanding.

“Nice hair. I love the new color.” You say, leaning your head with a knowing look. Jinsoul’s hair falls a little past her shoulders, in a strawberry-blonde tone that is exactly like Rosé’s past one, from a few months prior. “I’ll tell Rosé her oldest, most faithful fan sends her regards.”

Your words seem to stir something inside the leader in front of you. She scoffs, gritting her teeth. “This is too tedious. Give me the shipment we agreed on, I’ve got better things to do anyway.”

Rolling your eyes, you gesture for Chaeryeong to drop the box on the ground. She does as told, the metallic sounds of the guns moving inside. It echoes in the empty place, as the box falls onto the ground.

Jinsoul remains stoic, hands resting neatly inside her pockets, while her guards reach out for the box. Before they can touch it, though, you step on it, preventing anyone from moving.

“Give us the money first, Jinsoul. No funny business.” You stare right into her eyes, remembering the times you’ve caught her fooling around in her deals, leaving other people empty-handed. “Then you can check as much as you want.”

She laughs, knowing you’re no fool. “I see you’ve gotten wiser, Y/n. Well done.”

In a second, she’s handing you another small, compacted package. You take the money with your delicate hands, not in the least made to deal with such dirty stuff. You count it, already feeling the blood in your veins boil. Chaeryeong breaths are heavy beside you as you say. “This is not what we agreed on, Jinsoul. Stop being a whore for once and give me the other half of the fucking money.”

You and Chaery don’t need words to understand each other. She grabs the box back from the ground as soon as she sees you go rigid, holding on to it with the same look of disdain you bear.

“Oh, my dear.” Jinsoul stands close enough to grab a strand of your long fringe, knuckles brushing your jawline with feigned affection. “Your sister should know I am only faithful to the people I treat business with… and I didn’t discuss anything with you, precious.”

Turning your face, you hold Chaeryeong with one arm to prevent her from jumping on Jinsoul and beating her up.

“You bitch!” Your friend screams at her face, her voice muffled by Jinsoul’s hectic laughter as she walks away, back turned to you and Chaery in a clear show of disrespect.

Before you can go to Jinsoul yourself, her guards strike, going straight to the two of you. You manage to buckle and give them a few punches — causing a fair amount of trouble for someone who didn’t practice often at all, honestly. However, you were outnumbered, and soon enough you find yourself on the ground, punched and disheveled.

Coughing violently, you turn to see one of them kicking Chaeryeong in the guts, a few meters from you. The sight of your friend, cheerful and pure Chaery, being hurt enrages you to the core. You spit at their feet to gather all the attention to yourself.

“Don’t touch her, fucker!” You scream, breathless. They pay you no mind, having the time of their lives.

You feel something on your jacket, then. When you look ahead, Jinsoul has poured a thick, horizontal line of a viscous liquid through all of the massive warehouse. Other guards help, with gallons, but you know most of it is her doing — she loves to get her hands dirty in the business. There’s fire in her eyes, and by the time she lifts the lighter dramatically, you’re already well aware.

Gasoline.

“Goodbye, dearests! It’s always a pleasure doing business with you.” She chants, before throwing the lighter and walking away, without any rush.

You have to use both hands to stand on your fours, then on your knees. Your jacket is long thrown elsewhere as you grab Chaeryeong by back of her neck, much like a kitten. “Let’s go, and quick. Are you badly hurt?” You murmur, looking for any bad bruises on her porcelain skin. The girl shakes her head, running her hand through her bloody nose. She whimpers, and you know she’s trying her best to be strong in front of you. You give her a hug, as well as a kiss on her dirty cheek, in hopes of bringing her a little comfort. “Good. Now come.”

You hated — no, you despised Rosé for always deceiving you. Only this time, she’d pay.

Leaning on each other, the two of you go back to where you’d parked your car, in a hidden area a few minutes away from the warehouse, just as you’ve been taught to do. You take a deep breath, appreciating the humidity and the nature that ruled the place, a forgotten piece of the city. It had rained while you were inside, and you were glad for that. You loved the smell of rain, especially in nature.

On your way to the car, you spot a water tap nearby. You take Chaeryeong’s arms from your shoulders, then, opening the tap and turning to her. “Clean yourself up.”

“You’re so bossy.” She mumbles, but is quick to do as told, grabbing a hold of the water and splashing it on her face, cleaning up the dust that gathered. Chaeryeong nearly drenches her whole head, too — her pitch-black hair all shiny within minutes as the color slowly returns to her face.

While she takes the dirt off her arms and legs, you look around to check on the fire. It is still lively, a bright beacon as the night falls by, but you know it won’t spread. The place was all rotten by rust, with barely any ceiling left, so the rain would most likely put it off.

Still, Jinsoul’s message was clear, and it stung on your pride.

At least she’s always been like that, never presenting herself differently. Much different from your sister, who tells lies for breakfast.

Your mind is still clouded by troubled thoughts when Chaeryeong lets out a tired laugh, smiling once you kneel to clean up yourself. “They beat up our asses hard out there, you know.”

As much as her statement annoys the shit out of you, you’re grateful to have her cracking jokes again. Your best friend’s delicate features suit the red color on her mouth, a sign she’s well and ready for the next one.

You feel the dust gathering under your fingers and all over your skin. It’s all over you, so intensely your honey hair can be misguided as black, with how much of it is covered by dirt.

“I’ve barely noticed.”

Chaeryeong chokes in her saliva to keep herself from laughing, knowing your patience’s running thin. Even if you have the softest spot for her, she decides not to push it.

“Yes, obviously.” She nods. You think she’s finally going to be quiet, but it’s your best friend you’re talking about. Naturally, she continues. “Let’s go to the party, please?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you finish washing up, feeling refreshed and no longer too bothered. “Yes.”

You both arrive where the car is parked before she adds. “And we need fighting lessons once we get back home.”

“Chaeryeong.”

“It’s true, sorry! It is.” She raises her hands as if to keep herself from being attacked by your rage.

You limit yourself to giving her a harsh stare, and she shivers under it. You can be quite intimidating when you wish to be, especially since you’re not exactly a chatterbox.

Turning the car on, you indulge your friend’s wishes as you drive towards the party she’s been nagging you about for the whole week.

-

The night’s already taken over the sky once you park on the crowded street, after hours of speeding on the free road. As you hop out of the car, your thoughts go to your sister: you know the meeting with Jinsoul had been arranged all along, with her words about Wendy being merely for you to agree on doing as told. How could she fool you like that? As if you were nothing more than another dischargeable person, like many of her toys.

It’s not the first time Rosé has sent you and Chaeryeong to some skimpy situation, but knowing she was well aware of it being a clear trap all along leaves you absolutely outraged.

Even though she knew of the risks, she still sent you. You would’ve never gone, had you known it was a situation like that, and that’s the reason she didn’t warn you beforehand.

You hated Rosé’s guts.

Chaery rushes to your side once again, side-eyeing you with as little discreetness as possible — unlike yourself, she’s never been good at hiding her expressions. You don’t even attempt to smile, still mad about your earlier encounter and all that went wrong.

Not even your bubbly, cheerful best friend can lift your spirits, at the moment.

“Don’t tell me you’re still pissed, Y/n.” She shakes her arms, sighing. Her tone is serious, and you know she means it. “Come on! Live your life, and stop being so strict all the time. You deserve to have fun.” Chaery grabs you by the shoulders, lifting your chin so you’ll stare at her. “So have fun! I know it fucking sucks, but it’s done! Let’s just enjoy the night and deal with the whole problem tomorrow morning.”

You roll your eyes, knowing she’d never comprehend your feelings. As much as you love how carefree she is, you also know your personalities are too different.

You allow her to interlock your hand with hers, though, as the two of you pass the sea of cars in the direction of the crowded mansion.

“You could use a little fire within yourself too, you know.” You murmur, examining the place with harsh eyes.

The front garden alone is already impressive. Its deep green lawn is impeccable — clearly trimmed and well cared for, aligning with the lavish fountain that stands in the center and all the animals sculpted in the bushes. A cupid stands in the middle of the marble fountain, water flowing smoothly from its carved bow. You recognize the modern styling of the mansion, with plenty of massive windows that cover both floors of the house. With its wooden walls, the place has a rustic yet cozy surface. There is no doubt whoever owns such property has a great sense of style.

Even that front area is crowded, too. People nearly having public sex, others throwing up vigorously while being helped by friends, a few others just passed out on the lawn… although you’re surprised to see many groups simply drinking and chilling, leaning on their cars, too — most likely seeking an escape from the vivid music and the heat wave that must be inside. You already feel the energetic music echoing through the whole atmosphere, the rhythm reverberating through the walls and on the ground. You bite your cheek to suppress a smile, not wanting your friend to notice yet. To you, there was something appealing about attending such crowded spaces. Amidst the sea of people, you were no one: known by no one, cared for by no one. It was strangely comforting, as if a weight was going off your shoulders, and you liked it.

Interrupting your thoughts, Chaeryeong shrugs, “I mean, it’s Rosé we’re talking about. Did you seriously not expect the deal to be suspicious, to say the very least?” She sighs hard, adding. “That lying, dreadful hot bitch. I’d go to as many sneaky warehouses as she commands me to, sorry, Y/n.”

Her tone is truthful enough to have you shaking your shoulders in laughter, squeezing her hand to make her stop walking through people so fast. As a matter of fact, Chaery’s fat crush on your sister isn’t by any means new to you — going on for many years already, but it always surprises you to hear her say stuff like that.

You find it hilarious, actually, that Chaeryeong is, to this day, one of your sister’s fangirls.

“I seriously can’t believe you sometimes.” You say, although youthful spirits have been lifted. Your best friend smiles brightly at you, her button nose scrunching adorably.

“You just love me so much.”

You leave her at that, and stand by the door, making your way to the main, open area — the living room. Chaeryeong is smart and attentive, which also helps to access the whole place rather quickly. Soon enough, both of you have some kind of fancy drink in hands, and you stare at the dark-haired girl rather hesitantly.

Her bright humor and the room’s energy, bustling with excitement are enough to have you feeling much better, even a little happy yourself. Still sensing your hesitation, she brings the cup to your mouth with her small hands, both of you downing your drinks within seconds.

“Okay,” She says, looking around for anything interesting. “Now the real fun begins.”

You laugh, knowing she’s going to find some source of entertainment for the night — whether it is a pretty girl to lose herself in or a newly discovered gossip to watch and comment over like a TV series.

Chaeryeong disappears and comes back with another fancy-looking drink, stumbling and nearly falling in the process, and you quickly grab the one she hands to you, taking a small sip this time. She’s already had a handful of hers and stares at your choice of savoring the liquid with playful eyes.

“What? I would rather not pass out. That’s your role.”

“You never forget, do you? It was once, Y/n. Once. And forever ago, too! I’ve never done that again.” She huffs, bringing her free hand to her chest in a fake display of resentment.

You giggle as you hug her sideways, shutting off the older girl’s whines. She quickly steps aside, though — not wanting people to think she’s not seeking some fun, and you take the opportunity to look around, observing the inside of the mansion properly.

It’s a beautiful house — a mansion, indeed — and the first floor is nothing but lavish. The bar, where you and Chaeryeong stand, is nearly the size of the one at the Diner, filled with expensive drinks and crystal cups as the bartender — not at all like the junk places the two of you usually attend— mixes drinks with experience.

It also pleases you to see how such a person is not afraid of spending money to host a good party, even if the people enjoying it are complete strangers. The lively atmosphere of young people having fun, mixed with the grand decor of the place balanced each other well, giving a lived-in aspect to said gorgeous place.

The open area has plenty of windows, allowing you to watch the gardens and the pool, outside — even though it’s massive, there’s barely any space left in between the waters, making you gulp with disgust. It was hard for you to understand how that many people would muster the courage to get in, with so many germs and fluids certainly dirtying the once crystal-clear waters.

Looking back inside, you’re able to observe the planned furniture, which is clearly well thought out, with the wooden ceiling and the thick, marble columns. There are rugs lacking, you notice, but it is surely so they don’t stain or anything.

You wonder what the place is like during a quiet, common day. One where the only noises come from the birds, chipping and singing while flying through the trees, and the running water that drips on the pool fountain.

Besides that, it is absolutely crowded. Nearly every single space is occupied by either a couple kissing like there’s no tomorrow or people screaming and dancing, yet everyone seems to be having a nice time. The atmosphere makes you smile, surprisingly cozy on this chaotic yet lively night. That’s how you feel, specially after the prior encounters: alive.

You have to make that feeling worth it.

-

Time goes by fast once you’re trying to have fun.

You quickly learn so, as you drink, smoke, and dance with Chaeryeong. Even with the alcohol leaving you happy, you’re still uneasy. You can’t shake the feeling that you’re being observed, no matter how many times you tell yourself that’s absolutely insane — there are people in every possible corner of the place, and no one’s paying attention to you.

However, Chaery also seems to be opposed to the logical part of your brain.

“I think you should go for it,” Your best friend tells you, after long minutes of heavily flirting with a barbie-like girl from afar.

You’re nearly sure you know that girl, actually. She’s from your hometown, most likely; her heart-shaped mouth and cherubic features are impossible to miss.

There’s nothing more like Chaery than going to a party located 2 hours away just to fuck around with the same people you’ve known since elementary school.

Your best friend turns around, filling up both of your drinks, even though yours is only halfway empty.

You frown. “Go for what?”

It’s Chaeryeong’s turn to be annoyed at you. She throws her free arm on your shoulders, gesturing to the middle of the living room area, where four good-looking girls stand with critical looks, acting like they own the place.

Which, judging by their style and the way they carry themselves, they might as well do.

Chaeryeong points in their direction with her head, never in her life subtle. “The one in the middle has not stopped staring at you ever since we’ve arrived. Ryujin, they say it’s her name.” Your friend’s excited tone grabs your attention, and you finally take a look at the small group she’s so enamored by. “I think you should go get her.”

Your friend has always had a good taste in women, and this time’s no different. They are beautiful, crushingly so, all hanging out by the long couch, circled by many people who seem to fight for an ounce of their attention. They stay disinterested, though, not paying them as much as a quick look.

One has sharp eyes, listening attentively to what a jumpy redhead and a blonde girl have to say as she sips on her Marguerita. At last, you observe the raven-haired girl Chaeryeong mentioned: she stands powerful in the middle, her sharp features giving her an intimidating look. To your surprise, she’s already staring— her dark eyes examining you with such hunger your heart starts beating rapidly as if there were no one else in the room. Electric shocks fly through your body upon her piercing gaze, and you look away immediately.

“She’s creepy.” You take a long gulp of your drink, in hopes of washing away the urge of sneaking her a glance once again.

Chaeryeong rolls her eyes, nudging you. ��Just how you like them.” She scoffs, then, when she realizes you won’t answer — not in the mood to indulge her little monologues. “Please, Y/n, for once in your life just—“

You interrupt your friend, taking a step back and giving her a fake smile. “I need to use the bathroom, but I’ll catch up with you soon, Chaery.” Getting away from her as fast as you can in such a crowded space, you’re still able to hear her voice as you ascend the grand staircase, screaming while raising her cup in your direction to prove her point.

“YOU CAN’T ESCAPE ME, Y/N! IF YOU TAKE TOO LONG, I’LL COME AND GET YOU.” You can’t help but laugh, fully knowing she means it.

Even though you escape her lecture — hearing that same discourse at least once a day ever since you can remember, you know Chaeryeong means well. It’s a matter of fact: you’ve always been the responsible one, caring and supervising others, to the point people always referred to you as “lame” or “boring”. Whether it was at the Diner, with your reckless family, or dealing with your friend’s spontaneousness, you’re unable to help it: being careful comes naturally to you, always thinking about countless opportunities for every situation possible.

Before opening many doors — the place was indeed massive, leaving you to wonder how many rooms there are — you finally find a bathroom. Without rushing, you take a deep breath, washing your face in hopes of easing your mind, too.

For the first time in many hours, you have time to truly think about the events of the day. Weariness infiltrates your bones as you grip both sides of the sink, not daring to look at yourself in the mirror. Looking at your face, your features, means staring at your sister, too. At your father, the whole dirty business you do for a living and how you’re also to blame, no matter how much you avoid taking part in it. You belong in this world, there’s no denying it.

Only you so wish you didn’t.

Sitting on the toilet, you hug your knees, waiting for the tears to come. They never do; you only feel an overwhelming emptiness, somehow accustomed to this entire mess. Crying and pitying yourself won’t change anything.

The door opens, and Ryujin is standing in front of you before you can make yourself look presentable. She’s as intimidating as she was from afar, her thick boots making her look taller.

“Sorry for taking so long, I needed a moment. I’ll go now.” You get up quickly, trying to brush past her as you murmur excuses for keeping the bathroom all to yourself, even though she doesn’t seem to mind.

With a hand brushing your waist, she says, tone low and husked. “It’s ok. I can take you to somewhere quieter if you’d like.” Her posture is relaxed and patient, waiting for you to answer. “Listening to loud music for too long can be a bother.”

You don’t exactly know why you agree; perhaps it’s her voice, soothing and sensual — even though you somehow know her invite is not one seeking sex, or her dark eyes, staring at you like she could undress your soul and be aware of your deepest secrets. Regardless of the motives, you feel drawn to her, almost as if she’d cast a spell on you, luring you in. So you nod, allowing yourself to enter the labyrinth of corridors as Ryujin walks by your side, without rushing. Only when the two of you stop by a black, wooden door, she turns back to you. You step inside, as the world behind you suddenly turns quiet.

You’re fully aware of the risks you’re taking. She’s a stranger, and you know nothing about each other. You should be jumpy, wary in the least.

Instead, for the first time in many years, there’s not a train of thoughts running through your head, thinking about millions of possibilities and outcomes of every little thing you’ve ever witnessed.

As you walk into the middle of the spacious room, you feel nothing but calm.

-

Ryujin has good taste.

You’re not stupid: you know the bedroom you’re currently in belongs to her. The walls are made of wood, carved in light brown, and most of the furniture is black, a true portrait of how she presents herself — all dark and mysterious. Her bed stands appealing in the middle, the covers undone and inviting, while numerous papers rest neatly on her desk, but it’s the content on the wall that catches your attention. A map of the country, covered with red strings and pins linking numerous places. There are names written, too, as well as keywords and small texts.

“I’m a good listener. If you’d like to, naturally.” She takes a blunt out of her pocket, gesturing to you. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.” You give her a small smile in acknowledgment. “It’s your room, anyway.”

She laughs. “Smart girl.”

“I’ll pass on your invitation to listen, though.” You continue as you stare at her closely, curious about how she’d react. Her blazer made her shirt ride up, revealing part of her toned abdomen, and you can’t help but ogle, mouth dry at the sight.

God, she’s so hot, sitting casually like that.“As you wish. No problem.” Ryujin doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest, which provides you with enough confidence to start looking around again.

A black wooden bookshelf catches your attention, standing on the opposite side of the windows and the balcony, and you’re appalled by how vast it is. It nearly occupies the entire wall, with numerous books. It’s the only part of the room that has any color besides black, brown, or white, and the books all seem pretty worn out. You brush your fingers through the shelves, lost in paradise.

“Do you expect us to fuck?” You don’t turn to face her as you ask, without shame. Strangely, you feel like you could tell her whatever you wanted to.

She shrugs, adjusting her pillows so she’d lie comfortably, looking rather small in the massive bed. The words leave her mouth so casually like nothing was ever complicated. “If you'd like to, maybe.” Her eyes travel to your body, and you shiver, once again feeling exposed. “You’re pretty. You have a beautiful body, too. So, sure.”

“Why did you bring me here, then? If not to fuck.” You murmur, eyeing her as your fingers brush a specific book, waiting for her permission.

You take it from its place once she nods, freeing the smoke from her lungs. The Waves, highlighted and annotated.

“You looked as if you had many thoughts going on in your head.” She runs her hand through her shiny, pitch-black hair, casually. “This is my quiet place. I figured you could use a little peace for a while, too.”

She was so right. From the time you entered her room, you felt nothing but peace, as if your emotional turmoil had cooled down for a few moments.

Maybe it was the calming energy Ryujin emanates or the way she looks at you so curiously. Anyway, you decide she’s worth it.

You were not exactly fond of meeting new people, much less welcoming them into your life. You didn’t feel the need to add anyone — you could barely keep up with the amount of drama you had, with not that many people. You have a best friend, a father, a stepmother, grandparents, a sister, and her friends who were your acquaintances. Not a massive crowd, but just enough for you.

However, you feel the need to let this girl in, too.

Jumping on the bed, you don’t stop until you’re near enough to feel the warmth of the blunt Ryujin holds. You lean on your elbows, facing down whilst she’s facing up, hands behind her head to support herself as she stares at the ceiling.

“I’m Y/n, nice to meet you.” You say, determined not to feel threatened by her piercing gaze and those midnight eyes that carry such mystery.

Ryujin laughs, shaking the hand you offer. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/n. I’m Ryujin.”

She stares back, her eyes undressing you as if she’s the keeper of all your secrets. You look away. She laughs again.

Your mind wanders to Chaeryeong’s words, always eager to talk about how you should take more risks and live freely. Perhaps she’s right; you should stop worrying too much and overthinking every single thing.

You snuggle yourself even closer to Ryujin, still deciding. “But are you good?”

She frowns, turning to you. “Probably. But good at what, exactly?”

“In bed, obviously.” You roll your eyes. “Are you a good fuck?”

Being so close to her allows you to see the switch your words provoke. Her eyes darken, and she fixes her posture, no longer carefree and unbothered. No… the girl whose eyes roam over your body is far from inviting or calming. She’s powerful, just as you watched her present herself downstairs, earlier at night. With strong hands, she grabs one of your thighs, bringing you so close you’re able to play with the collar of her silk shirt.

“Why do you ask, Y/n?” Ryunjin’s hands brush your neck in a careful motion, tucking your hair away so she’s able to run her nose through your skin. One look at her, and you know she enjoys toying with you like that too much.

As she must do with anyone, you suppose.

“Well…” You look down, although still leaning at her touch. “‘Cause I want you to fuck me, of course. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be asking.”

She doesn’t mind your impatient tone but doesn’t touch you either, even after your words. If anything, she just keeps staring at your body, as if imagining all the things she’d do.

“And how would I do that, exactly?” You roll your eyes, ready to give her a defiant answer when she grabs you by the chin, ever so gently. “Make sure to be clear with your words, my angel.”

And it’s that tone once again — so low-pitched and raspy, that makes you gulp, barely breathing under the enchanting, mysterious girl’s touches. Besides being in control at all times: when you’ve decided to accompany Ryujin to her bedroom, when initiating this battle of desire… you finally come to realize how different it is, this once. This time, Ryujin’s question presents itself as a warning, its meaning loud and clear even though it was unsaid. If you agreed to this, she would be the one in control. She’d take as much as she pleased, however, you wished her to do.

Something that is so appealing to you. Not because you feel the need to let go; no, you’ve done much of that throughout all of your life — being your family’s pawn, toy, and little doll to show off to other powerful families, making a profit over the image of perfection.

No, Ryujin’s offer is appealing simply because you’re curious to see what she’d do to you. You feel drawn to her, with a sudden urge to be under her touch, to have her inside of you.

You want her to do the most unspeakable, filthy things to your body, bringing you enough pleasure to fuck you dumb, until all of your worries are washed away and long gone.

Her. You want her.

So you stand on your knees, taking your time with unclasping your bra and throwing your shirt off the ground, long hair flowing gracefully as you move, cascading down your hips. It’s only once you’re done that you speak, long after letting her watch as you make a show out of the small act.

“I want you to pleasure me.” You say, with a voice just as lustrous as hers. “I’m sure you’ve been spoiled enough in sex. Prove it to me, then. And if you’re good enough, maybe I’ll satisfy you, too.”

She smiles, exposing her canine teeth as she watches you crawl to her. Within seconds, you’re between her legs, her mouth hot and wet on your clavicle — then wasting no time to go to your breasts, as she kisses and sucks on your skin. Making sure to bruise, to mark her presence. Territorial.

“Your wish is my command, angel of mine.” She murmurs, breath warm on your skin.

Ryujin’s taste is bitter, much like poison. Still, her lips are addicting, and it’s easy to lose yourself in between the sultry kisses you share. Your skin, your insides — you’re on fire, so turned on it burns.

Her hands, skilled and lithe, wander through your body, squeezing and groping as she pleases. Such a tease, she is. You can easily tell how delighted she is to be able to take her time, caressing the insides of your thighs as you huff, impatient. She’s so close, yet so far from where you need her. Your cunt aches, sticky and needy for something, anything.

Yearning for release after such a stressful day, you feel your body trembling with anticipation. Soon enough, you’re under her, both of your clothes long thrown on the ground. It’s hard not to blush with how she’s looking at your naked body, licking her lips as she spits, a long trail of saliva going from her fingers to your wet cunt.

You need more of her. Desperately.

Tugging her hair, you let out a loud whine. “You’re so mean, Ryujin.”

“I am.” Her answer comes immediately, as she lowers her body until her mouth is close to your pussy. She brushes the hair away from her face, eyes still heavily focused on your dripping cunt. Ryujin cups your ass, one of your legs resting on her shoulder as she brings your sex as close to her face as possible. Her eyes are starstruck, long-lost in your body as she parts your folds before giving your cunt a messy, wet kiss.

Her actions are more than enough to turn you into a withering mess: her mouth is everywhere, working her way inside of your walls with such vigor you feel so full, your troubled thoughts long forgotten. She works wonders, her tongue teasing your entrance and alternating between lapping on your clit, circling your hardened bud as you moan, squirming almost desperately. You’ve never been this sensible, yet Ryujin reverberates all of her actions through your body harder than usual — even the mere brush of her fingers has her holding your thighs firmly, to keep you from moving so much and closing your legs away.

Incoherent words leave your mouth so fast that you’d be ashamed if you were able to think about anything. Your long nails scratch her bare back in random patterns, leaving her skin so red you close your hands in a sudden wave of consciousness, shy as you bring them to your chest.

She stops too, ignoring your whines as she looks up to you with a serious face, her mouth swollen and glistening with your juices. “If you stop, I’ll stop.” She grabs your hands, placing them on her once again. It’s so sweet, somehow delicate how she handles you, much different from the way she acts with anyone else. “Don’t hold yourself back.”

You nod, gulping. She has two of her fingers aligned with your slit, spreading your juices through your pussy with that little smug smile of hers before easing them inside. They slide in easily, the gushing sounds filling the room along with your voice. “Ryujin… oh f-fuck!”

“Touch your nipples.” Ryujin commands, mouth closing against your clit once again. She licks and applies a weak suction, not yet enough to overstimulate you. You’re long gone, though, incapable of forming any thoughts on your pretty head, let alone following any commands. She knows it, which is the reason her hands grope your tits with strength, massaging. “You’re sensitive, angel. Touch them for me, will you?”

It seems to work, this time. You mumble a response to her patient tone, hands going straight to your nipples as you cup your breasts. They weren’t exactly big, but certainly not small either. If you squeezed them tightly — as you were currently, doing, you could fit them in your hands. Biting your lip, you flick your thumbs through the hardened buds, circling your areolas as your fingers twist and pinch your nipples.

The action sends a shock of electricity through your body, and you throw your head back in pleasure.

“Good girl, Y/n. God, your tits are so pretty. You look so pretty like this, doing so good for me.” You barely register her words, although it doesn’t seem necessary; if anything, Ryujin seems to be speaking to herself. She lifts her head, fingers thrusting in even deeper as she judges the bruises on your hips with hard eyes. Her voice is different, too, serious as she adds, “Must’ve been a tough day, hm? You’re all bruised, my love. And I haven’t given you any of these.”

“Something like that, I guess.” You murmur, closing your eyes to focus on how good she is making you feel.

She kisses each one of your bruises with delicacy, looking somehow annoyed. Her brows are furrowed, and her lips are pouty, making it easy to tell she’s lost in thought. Because of her reaction, you lift her chin, cocking your head to the sides as you try to figure her out. It seems to wake her up from her trance, instead. Ryujin takes your fingers and sucks, staring at you while her tongue wets your index and thumb just as she was doing to your pussy, moments prior.

This girl’s going to be the death of you.

Her attention returns to your cunt, swollen and red, as she fastens the thrusts on your slit. It hits deep, each movement bringing you closer to the orgasm you ache for. A third finger is added, then, and you feel yourself close to the edge. Ryujin must’ve felt your muscles clenching, too, since she’s quick to give your clit one last, deep suck.

It feels like there’s no air left in the room. The pleasure that was building up in your lower abdomen explodes, with violent waves of pleasure erupting and giving you the best sensation you’ve ever felt. It’s ecstatic, as if thousands of fireworks live in every little space of your body. You feel spectacular, but more than that, you feel alive. With a high cry, you cum, Ryujin’s fingers still working their way inside, helping you ride out from your orgasm. She’s careful to not touch your clit, just staring at your fucked out face as your chest moves rapidly, trying to even your breathing.

After a few minutes, you squirm, expecting her to distance herself and stop touching your cunt.

It’s not what happens, though — in a blink, she’s all over you, working her way up your body with wet kisses until your lips meet once again in a messy kiss.

“You’re relaxed now, right?” She says, sucking on your lower lip. “And you were so perfect, angel. It’s my turn. Can you give me one more? Do you think you can do it for me?”

Suddenly, you’re all hot again, as her fingers thrust into you deeper and deeper. You’re dizzy, more than happy to drink on her and let her drive you into pleasure as she says so.

“R-ryujin…” You chant her name, clinging to the girl.

It doesn’t take you long to cum, this time. The orgasm that drags through your body is strong but slow, leaving you full in more ways than you’ll ever be able to describe.

“So good.” She says, hands tight on your waist and caressing your abdomen, with no rush at all. “You’re doing so good, Y/n.”

Your cunt feels empty without her fingers inside, pussy swollen and pleased. Even though she’s right by your side, you miss her, reaching out for her touches. She’s more than eager to comply, holding you close as she kisses the top of your head, brushing the long strands of hair away from your face.

The two of you stay like that, wrapped up in a warm bubble that has you completely in peace. Your muscles relax, and you feel the tiredness in your bones, pleading for sleep. It’s easy to get lost in Ryujin’s arms, forgetting your duties and obligations until your mind is filled with her.

Just as quickly, you’re thrown back into reality by the doorknob — it’s forced from the outside, although the door doesn’t move, thankfully locked. It’s most likely someone drunk, searching for a place to have fun with someone, but the action is enough for you to remember the reason you’ve attended such a party: an energetic girl with dark hair and the worst sense of humor you’ve ever seen, who was probably worried sick about you and cursing your entire existence.

With that in mind, you get up, grabbing your dispersed clothes on the floor and putting them on. Ryujin’s stare is attentive, following your every move. She’s still comfortable in her bed, not bothering to cover herself as she reaches out for the blunt on her nightstand.

“You can stay, if you’d like.” Her voice has a special effect on you. It makes your body relax instantly, and you breathe in. “Enjoy the quietude. There’s no need to run away.”

“I’m not running away.” You frown, somehow bothered that she thinks so. Grunting, you clarify, “I’d like to… hum, continue this. But my friend’s been waiting for long now. She must be going crazy, thinking I’ve been kidnapped or something. I have to take care of her.”

“Why so?” There it is. That smirk, the air of superiority that adds to Ryujin’s strong façade. It’s almost as if she’s mocking you, playing with her words. “Is she a child? Or just so stupid she can’t take care of herself…”

Your face reddens, and you finish tying your shoes just as quickly as you turn to her, both hands gripping her bed frame so you’re able to jerk your body forward. “Chaeryeong’s not stupid. Watch your fucking mouth.”

People could say anything they wanted about you. In fact, they already did — ever since you were little and your mother had left, people judged and made assumptions about your life. It was impossible not to be a target, with a family like yours, handling the business that you do. It did hurt, at the beginning, but you’ve eventually figured it out: people talked about everyone, and you weren’t special. They were so miserable and uninteresting that they’d criticize every single little thing, no matter how invisible you tried to be. It’s just how they were.

However, any words directed at your best friend are enough for you to get into messy fights. No one was allowed to talk shit about her. Not cheerful, bright Chaeryeong, who had the biggest, cutest smile and the purest intentions in her heart. You’d never allow it.

Seeing how serious you were, Ryujin’s smile dropped. She tapped her blunt in the ashtray, careful to not let the dust spill. “You’re right, she’s not. I apologize.” Although she doesn’t look sorry at all. It’s as if everything is a big joke to her; which, with such a lavish house, you know it most likely is.

Rich people are always assholes.

Humming, you roll your eyes as you try to fix your hair, failing terribly. It’s still as wild as ever, stubbornly fighting your fingers when you run your hands through its entire length, in attempts of detangling something. The subject’s been brushed off when she speaks again, breaking the silence without any awkwardness. “Yeji is keeping an eye on her, anyway. So you don’t need to fry your neurons and die of preoccupation.”

It’s awkward — you’re awkward, meanwhile, the girl looks completely at ease as she takes another hold of smoke into her lungs, naked in all her glory. God, she’s so hot; her muscles are defined, and she’s simply beautiful, like a fallen angel. It takes all of you to not fall down on your knees immediately, begging to eat her out and make her scream in pleasure like she’s done to you. But you’re also tired, and you really need to let your friend know you’re alive and well. There’s nothing more that you hate than being a bother, so you can’t let her alone, wondering if you’ve forgotten about her presence.

“You really are good.” You stare at your hands, letting out a faint giggle. It’s amazing how suddenly shy you are, given how you were begging just minutes prior. “A good fuck, I mean. You are.” In a blink, you’re by the door, gripping the doorknob with an unnecessary amount of strength. “I hope to return the favor, someday.”

“Someday.” She says, tone enigmatic as ever. You’ve noticed she’s annoyingly good at hiding her expressions, always with a bored look on her face. “See you, Y/n.”

You don’t say anything else as you leave the room, losing yourself in the labyrinth of corridors without looking back.

-

Turns out Chaeryeong is still at the same place she was when you left, thankfully. She jumps into your arms as soon as she sees you, sighing in relief. “I’m going to kill you! Where have you been? I looked everywhere!”

You hold her firmly by the waist, her voice a few quarters higher than usual. Chaery might not be tall, but in this drunken state, she’s heavy, nearly dragging both of you to the ground. She laughs uncontrollably, happy to have you by her side once again.

“The bathroom line was too long.” You lie, taking the drink from her hands as you take a sip. It’s strong, provoking a nauseous sensation that you ignore as you swallow it down.

The lie comes naturally, not because you feel like you have to hide what happened from your best friend, but simply because you find yourself too tired to explain. She’s going to make you repeat yourself as soon as she sobers up again, anyway.

She knows it, though. “Liar! You were doing something.” The girl narrows her eyes, a confused expression on her face as she brushes the hair away from your neck. “Where’d you get a new necklac— Y/n! You dirty whore!”

You can’t help but laugh as she examines the hickeys Ryujin left on your skin, mouth opened in a big “O” — slightly pushing her off you. Chaeryeong stumbles, hitting the wall with her shoulders as she tries to gather her balance.

“I’ll tell you about it later, okay? M’ too tired right now.” You promise, not giving her drink back once she reaches out for it.

Chaeryeong doesn’t seem to mind, jumping up and down in excitement. She grabs you by the shoulders, shaking your body with a smile that nearly covers her entire face. “My girl’s getting some game, wow! I’m so happy for you, Y/n! You have no idea. Do you know how many times I wished you got someone? I seriously thought you were going to turn into a nun or something.”

“Hey!” You protest, “I’m not a prude! The last time I had kissed someone was like, last month or something.”

Chaery stops jumping, thankfully. She pays no mind to your grumbling, twirling, and moving along with the blasting music’s rhythm. “Sure, sure. Whatever you say.”

You eye her with narrowed eyes, but she stops all of her movements before you can give her a sneaky response. Her face pales, and she gulps deeply.

“Are you okay, Chaery?” No response. Chaeryeong’s eyes are fixated on the wall behind you, the colorful lights and blasting music from the living room surely doing nothing but overwhelming her even more.

“Yeah.” She looks up, sighing. “Just felt this sudden urge to t—“ The way she covers her mouth is enough of a sign, for you. Acting quickly, you pull her to the gardens, as Chaeryeong tries her best to not jerk her body forward. It’s immediate: she throws up as soon as she finds a bush to lean on, the effects of the alcohol, adrenaline, and visual stimulation from the party getting to her organism.

“I guess you kept your drinking game high while I was busy?” You ask, trying to lighten the mood. It works, you can tell Chaery’s laughing by the way her small shoulders move. She gives you a thumbs up, too, her face still shoved in between the leaves. “Okay. Are you good to be by yourself for a few moments? I’ll get you some water, then I’ll be right back.”

“Sure.” Your friend manages to say, lying down on the grass. Her hair is all messy, and her face remains pale. “I’m fine now, though. 100%.”

“I’m still getting you the water.” You get up from where you were kneeling, too, rushing towards the kitchen entry with hurried steps.

You’re not too worried, though. This wasn’t exactly an unusual situation — sometimes Chaeryeong would drink too much, too fast… sometimes you would. It was a pain in the ass, naturally, and you’d always wake up deeply hungover the next day, but it wasn’t something to be deeply preoccupied with.

Humming to yourself, you open the fridge, in hopes of finding a bottle of fresh water. It was better than going to the bar set in the lively living room and asking for one, anyway. You barely notice a girl standing next to you, handing exactly what you’re looking for. She’s one of Ryujin’s friends, you reckon — her sunset, pin-straight hair compliments her features effortlessly, as her hypnotizing eyes stare at you attentively.

You know a judgmental look when you see one. This one’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

“For your pretty friend.” She says, waiting patiently for you to take the bottle from her hands. You do, still silent, yet your lack of enthusiasm doesn’t scare her away. She keeps babbling, not minding you at all. “I hope she feels better.”

It’s as though she knows something you don’t, and the hidden mockery in the air leaves you uneasy.

“Thanks…” You murmur, playing with the bottle in your hands. Before you brush past her to return to your friend, she adds.

“—Yeji. That’s my name.” Yeji tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, waving you goodbye with feigned innocency. “Bye, Y/n. Make sure Chaeryeong arrives home safely.”

Chaery’s had an eye on her earlier, nearly fucking her from afar while you were in your own world, lost in thoughts. They probably had some fun before you came back to your friend, that’s all.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself as you lean next to Chaeryeong again, trying to ease the knot in your stomach as you give her the plastic bottle.

“Here, don’t drink it all at once.” You say, chuckling as the girl nearly drowns herself in the water, desperate to get rid of the bitter taste in her mouth. “It’s been a long day, Chaeryeong. Let’s go home.”

She gladly takes the hand you offer, groaning as she shakes the remains of grass from her pants. “I had fun, though. Today was a fun day, Y/n. Did you have fun too?”

There’s mischief all over her face, making it impossible for you to feel down. It’s her gift, being able to lift your spirits with her lame jokes and energetic nature.

“Of course, Chaery. I always have fun when I’m with you.” You nod.

Your words please her, and she leans her head against your shoulder as you make your way to the car, side by side.

It’s late, and you’re tired. You’d handle it all in the morning.

-

Despite the weariness that penetrates thick in your bones, you’re punctual as always, doodling in your journal by the counter as the sun fights its way up against the messy fog of the morning. It’s a routine you’ve been doing ever since you were a teenager: going out, partying, and going to so many places until dawn, while still showing up to work at the Diner in the following morning.

You’d get some rest, eventually. For now, the four hours of sleep you had were enough to keep you up, somehow. Besides, Saturday mornings are always some of the slowest days at the place, with hardly anyone coming for breakfast. People liked to sleep in, trying to gather all the hours they’ve lost from having to wake up early for work, you guess — which is why the place is empty, no customers to be seen.

There’s a hard slam on the corner, and you lift your eyes to follow the sound. You’re greeted by Rosé: her baby-pink hair is even messier than usual, and her leather jacket seems to be the only thing protecting her from the chilly weather. It does little to ease her, though — Your sister’s shorts expose her legs, dirty and scratched. At least her crop top is thick, the black clothing making her seem even more intimidating. And she smells of smoke, instead of her usual cologne.

“You look like shit.” You’re the first to break the silence, as your eyes return to your sketch. It’s not an easy thing to do, but you try your best to act indifferent to your sister’s piercing stare. “I’m taking you haven’t had any sleep at all.”

She’s fuming, you know that. Somehow, Rosé’s cold attitude is much worse than her red fire. Her quietness scares you, as it should. It’s never a good sign.

“Have you ever been anything other than useless, all your life?” She spits, and her words hurt, no matter how long you’ve mentally prepared yourself to have that talk, ever since you left the warehouse. “I asked you to do one thing, Y/n. One fucking thing, and you managed to fuck it all up! God, you’re such a failure.”

Your mouth is dry, all of your courage going down the drain as you stare at the woman in front of you. Suddenly, you’re a little kid again, playing your part as Rosé’s little doll so you’d receive a smile, a praise, anything from her. You’d do anything to get her to acknowledge you, having to fight for her attention like everyone else.

But not anymore.

She hits the counter again, visibly enraged. You shove your finger at her chest, fighting back before she destroys you with her words — like she’s so good at.

“And you’re a fucking liar! Fuck you, Rosé. You fucking lied to me, saying we’d meet Wendy because you knew damn well I’d say no to dealing with Jinsoul. And you know what? I was fucking right!” Saying the words out loud is enough to give you courage. When you speak again, your tone is low, sharp like she’d taught you. “We could’ve gotten seriously hurt out there, Rosé. And you were fully aware of that when you sent us into that fucking trap! You’re in no position to demand anything.”

Rosé runs her hands through her hair, and you can tell she’s exhausted, too. She’s always hidden things from you, so it’s impossible to know what’s going on in her life. Although you can’t bring yourself to care, anymore.

“We need that money, Y/n!” She shouts, exasperated. If her stare could burn, you’d be long dead. “How do you think things work, huh? Who do you think is paying for that fancy college of yours — our house, the food we eat every day? It’s me! I provide for us, with that dirty money you hate so much. So wake up! Fucking idiot. Stop being such a burden and help, for once.”

You know it’s true. Even though your father is supposedly the one in charge, Rosé is the true leader. Needless to say, you’re grateful for all of those things.

Which doesn’t make Rosé any less of an asshole.

“You’re a shit sister.” You lean on the chair, your icy tone placing a blunt contrast to her fiery screams. “And an absolutely horrible person. I despise you.”

A flash of hurt passes through Rosé’s eyes, so fast you wonder if you’ve imagined it. But as fast as it happens, it’s over with. Instantly, her defenses are up again, and your sister looks down on you, rolling her eyes as she crosses her arms in the middle of her chest.

“You’re tiring me.” She huffs, her tone making it clear she is done with the conversation. Rosé leans on the counter and shoves your shoulders on a punch before storming away, slamming the entry door loudly. “I’m going out, to clean the mess you’ve made. Like always.”

Tears start to cloud your vision as you watch her hop on her car, the roaming of the engines making her feelings clear enough for anyone to understand. She’s an asshole, you know it; but it’s hard to not be upset by her lack of care towards you. You long for her approval and affection, getting anything other than that is enough to leave you deeply hurt.

It’s frustrating, to feel like that over such a shitty situation. You don’t even know if the tears you shed come from sadness or from anger, as you brush them away from your face.

A lithe figure hits the window to grab your attention, and you’re deeply surprised to see Ryujin barging in, walking towards you in confident steps. She chooses the table closest to you, resting her arms over the chairs next to hers.

“Good morning, Y/n.” She says, completely comfortable.

“Morning.” You can’t help but frown, confused. At least her presence offers enough of a distraction from your actual problems. “What are you doing here, Ryujin?”

Ryujin smiles, her eyes small and dazed, so pretty it should be a crime. The rays of weak sunlight brighten her face, making her seem almost innocent. Much different from the night prior. “I heard this place had great food, so I came to check. I woke up pretty hungry, you know.”

“Sure.” You hum, eyeing her suspiciously.

“I’ll have some waffles, pancakes, and coffee. Black, and with no sugar, please.” She says, after looking at the menu. You nod, making your way to the kitchen as quickly as possible, in hopes of escaping her intense stares.

It’s unsettling, how you’re able to feel her gaze burning holes on your back. The sensation takes you back to the night prior, a tingling sensation looking for a place in your core. You push it away, opening the double doors of the cooking area.

“Yoona unnie?” You look for the woman, watching her put her phone down to pay you attention. Smiling, you hand her a small note. “We have a customer.”

“Oh, so early! No one comes on Saturdays.” She mumbles, peeking out behind you to spot Ryujin, who stares at the road in boredom. “I’ll prepare it quickly. Meanwhile, you can go entertain her.”

You laugh at Yoona’s suggestion, shaking your head. “I’d rather wait here, with you.”

Yoona’s face turns serious, as she points at you. “No one is allowed in the kitchen while I cook. Goodbye, Y/n.” You grumble, having no choice but to go back to Ryujin while the woman pushes you out the doors.

Having coffee without any sugar is a trait reserved for psychopaths, which you think suits Ryujin well. You pour her drink in your favorite mug, before returning to her table.

“I thought you also cooked.” The raven-haired girl stands when you approach, promptly pulling the chair in front of herself.

She gestures for you to sit, and you frown, ready to argue that you are still working. The knowing look she gives you is enough to make you sit down, obedient.

“I can’t cook to save my life.” You explain, giggling to cover the shame of having to admit such a fact. “Yoona does it effortlessly, though. Her pastries are the best.”

Ryujin nods, scrunching her nose as she looks around. “And where’s your friend, may I ask?” Her smirk turns playful, pointy canines exposed at you. “Are you not taking care of her right now?”

“She’s not a child, right? She can take care of herself.” Although you play along in her game — repeating what she’d told you the day prior, you’re also quick to add. “Besides, she’s sleeping right now. Chaery always sleeps until late after a party.”

“Lucky her.” Ryujin whistles, and you agree. You wish you could sleep like your best friend, too. Not only did Chaeryeong often sleep until late at noon, but she’s also the heaviest sleeper you’ve ever met, unlike yourself. You envy her ability to sleep through literally anything possible.

Yoona calls for you to get Ryujin’s order, which you quickly do. The dishes look impeccable once you place them on the table. Yoona never misses.

It wasn’t rare to have customers who came by themselves, with the desire to have a moment of peace and enjoy their meals. With that in mind, you motion to leave, leaving Ryujin alone to do just that. She surprises you by grabbing your hand, ever so gently.

“This one’s for you, actually.” She pushes the pancake plate in your direction, hand still holding on to yours. Her fingers trace gentle circles in your palm. “Would mind joining me? I hate to eat alone.”

Leaving you without words is, apparently, one of Ryujin’s many talents. Once again, you feel drawn to her, incapable of saying no. It’s something in her eyes, you suppose; the way she stares at you, attentive, from the moment you first met each other. She acknowledges every little detail about you, and most importantly, she listens. You didn’t know someone could understand you entirely like that — it’s both thrilling and scary, to know you’re so aligned.

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” You murmur, and she shakes her head, in a clear sign that you don’t.

The two of you eat, soon engaged in lively conversation. It’s a pleasant surprise, to know Ryujin is much more than a pretty, intimidating face: she’s smart, funny, and very attentive. You both enjoy the same books, and she’s respectful and mindful when sharing her perspective about topics you disagree on. Time flies, and you find yourself comfortable in her presence.

Getting you to talk about yourself is difficult — even Chaeryeong has to ask repeatedly to get information from you. You just can’t help it: being raised to be a discreet, private person has created the habit of bottling up your emotions, and hiding things until you couldn’t handle them anymore.

However, the words flow freely with Ryujin. You want to share about your life, your hobbies, the people you love… it’s just somewhat easy when it comes to her.

And she doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. Far from that, Ryujin drinks from you: acknowledging every little detail about yourself, enchanted and marveled.

You barely notice how quickly you’ve eaten breakfast, not even a small bite left. Ryujin is surprised, too, to not have noticed either. You’ve distracted her and knocked down her defenses without even meaning to do so.

“Okay, so I might’ve come here with a purpose…” She says, and you shake your head. Of course, she did. “In my defense, I found this on my bedside table, a little after you left, and it looked pretty fancy to just keep to myself.”

In her hands, there’s a cross necklace, shining in bright silver. Your fingers go to your neck unconsciously, in hopes of touching the one you kept with yourself at all times — only to hold on to the air, instead. You grasp, bile bundling up in your stomach at the thought of the hours you’ve spent without your precious necklace.

As soon as you reach out for it, Ryujin holds the jewelry away from your hands.

“May I?” She unclasps the lock, gesturing to where it should be rested.

You nod, eager to have your necklace back. Holding your hair away from your face, you turn around, waiting for her. Her breath is hot on the back of your neck, and for a moment, you think she might kiss you. Instead, she takes a step back, a proud look on her face as she runs her thumb against the bruises on your collarbone. “There. All done, angel.”

“Thank you.” The words that leave your mouth are sincere, and you can’t muster how grateful you truly are. “I… Thank you, really. This is so important to me. How can I repay you?”

No matter how much you might hate Rosé at the current moment, that necklace means everything to you. It reminds you of a time when things were less complicated. When you were too young to understand what was truly going on in your life, lost in the innocence of childhood.

“Don’t worry about it.” Ryujin brushes it off, getting up quickly. She drops some money on the table, definitely much more than what she’s ordered. “We’ll see each other soon. Bye, Y/n. You look beautiful, by the way.”

Just as fast as she appeared, Ryujin’s gone. Leaving you to wonder what’s underneath all that mysterious façade, you go back to your chores, unable to brush the raven-haired girl off from your thoughts.

—

Rosé’s been having one hell of a week. Weeks, or even a month.

As if dealing with her family’s business wasn’t enough, with people constantly waiting for an opportunity to betray her and plan their downfall, this new gang that’s been stealing all her clients and supplies has been pissing her off in ways she didn’t deem possible. And now, she has your stupid feelings to worry about. God, you’re so damn sensitive it drives her crazy.

“Rosie?” Lisa’s voice reminds the woman she’s in the middle of a meeting — one she called herself. “What’s going on? You’ve been distracted ever since you walked through the door.”

“Yeah. This fucking sucks, but don’t fret too much. It’s not like we’ve not dealt with situations like those before. Those bitches will get what they deserve.” Jisoo says, in an attempt to soothe Rosé’s nerves. Her tone is excited — perhaps too much.

She’s always been a little masochist.

They’re right, which only makes Rosé more frustrated. She should be planning her revenge, not pouting over a stupid fight.

“I know, it’s just—“ She sighs. “Never mind. Let’s get this over with.”

They all nod, chatting vividly, but Rosé’s phone lights up before she’s able to join the conversation. There’s a message from an unknown number, which is unusual.

The content of it is what unsettles her the most. Her mouth dries and the air runs from her lungs as she stares at the image sent — A picture of you, boobs covered by someone’s arms and bare waist filled with bruises.

The message under it says Thank you for the guns and the snack. I’ll make sure to come back for more, later.

It doesn’t have a slight indication of who sent it, but Rosé doesn’t need a confirmation. She knows exactly who did.

“Jennie!” She screams, even though the girl is not far away from herself, sitting by the long table in the dining room. “Grab the stuff immediately. We’ll do this at my house, instead.” And so she turns, barging orders as she goes.

No one’s going to use her little sister as bait and live.

This newcomer might’ve had a few strikes of beginner's luck, but Rosé’s patience had run thin. She wouldn’t tolerate any insolences anymore, no.

She’ll have Ryujin’s head.

[callsign-muffin]

Heal Together: Chapter 2

(Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw fic)

I'm like completely overwhelmed that anyone has even read the first chapter of my fic, well alone liked and/or reblogged it! Thank you guys so much!

This chapter is a little bit of filler, just a heads up. But I hope you all like it anyways.

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.0k

There were a lot of people surrounding Rooster’s bed, they all introduced themselves but the only thing he could really think about was how scared he was for them to pull this tube out of his throat. The doctor told him that there’s always a chance he might not respond well and they’ll have to place another one. And good god, that was the last thing he wanted. The sedation medications, being unable to talk, having to have his throat suctioned constantly, and listening to the never ending sounds of the machines were his own personal hell. And the prep before this was its own level of horrible. They put a vest on him that shook him violently to loosen any crap that had built up low in his lungs while he was intubated. Then they deep suctioned the shit outta his throat, it was so uncomfortable but Y/N promised it was all to help him and keep him from getting sick again and having to be intubated again.

He looked over at Y/N and prayed that she could say something to make him feel better. All of his friends and Mav were still on the aircraft carrier in God knows where, so Y/N was the only familiar face. He guesses he could’ve called Penny, Mav’s girlfriend, but it’s a Saturday morning, she should be spending time with Amelia and getting ready for another crazy night at the Hard Deck.

“So what’s gonna happen is: I’m gonna sit your bed up really high and place a pad under your chin since a lot of gunk might come up with the tube. That’s completely normal.” Y/N explained calmly, “Brent, the guy on your left, is the respiratory therapist. He’s gonna ask you to cough a few times and on the last cough, he’s gonna pull the tube out.”

Bradley nodded, looking her straight in her beautiful, expressive eyes.

“Your throat’s gonna hurt and feel really dry, you probably won’t be able to talk for a little bit.” She continued, “But I’m gonna stay here and monitor you, listen to your lungs, suction out any more gunk, and maybe we can try swabbing your mouth with water to help with the dryness until you’re cleared to drink. Does that sound okay?”

The young doctor at the bedside scoffed, “Do we really need to have this much dialog? We have other patients to get to, Nurse.”

Y/N’s face hardened, “I am well aware that you all are busy. However, I’m not going to allow anything to happen to Lt. Bradshaw without his full informed consent, so I’m making sure he knows exactly what we’re doing. It’s his right.”

The older doctor smiled at Y/N, “This is why nurses are so important, they fill in the blanks for the patients. As physicians, we can get caught up in the science and the technicality of things but nurses are the people who remind us to remember that we’re taking care of the whole person.”

The young doctor rolled his eyes.

Y/N smiled at the older doctor and shot the young doc a look that said, Bite me, bitch. She then looked at Rooster and asked, “You ready?”

Rooster nodded slowly, he was so scared.

“It’s okay that you’re scared.” She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, “But you see Brent, the one literally doing the damn thing to you? He’s not scared and I’m not scared ”

Brent smiled, “Not one bit. And all of those docs in their fancy white coats, they OK’d me to do this. That means they’re not scared either.”

Rooster felt a rush of calm wash over him, Y/N trusted these people, so he had no reason not to as well.

“Ready man?” Brent asked.

Bradley nodded.

Y/N sat the bed up so that he was sitting tall and placed an absorbent pad under his chin, “Let’s do it!”

“Give me a few coughs, Lieutenant.” Brent instructed.

Rooster coughed uncomfortably, it felt so weird with this thing on his throat.

“One last big cough.” Brent said.

With his next cough the tube was out and Rooster couldn’t help but continue to cough and dry heave. All the doctors’ eyes were glued to the numbers on his monitor, the only one looking at him was Y/N. 

She wiped all the spit and nastiness off of his face carefully and talked to him quietly, “That’s it, let it out. You’re doin’ great.”

A few moments later the older doctor said, “His oxygen sats look great. Let us know if anything changes, Y/N.”

Y/N nodded, “Will do. Can I get a standing supplemental oxygen order? Just in case his sats start to decline.”

“Of course, Carl– I mean… Dr. Parks will put those in for you right away.” The old doc looked over at the very displeased younger doctor.

Once the doctors all assessed him and felt okay leaving the room, it was just Rooster and Y/N. He gestured towards his white board, there was no way in hell he could talk yet.

Y/N happily passed it to him and proceeded to start her own assessment, listening to his lungs with her stethoscope.

That young doc is an asshole. Rooster wrote.

Y/N snorted, taking her stethoscope out of her ears and setting it to rest around her neck, “For the sake of professionalism, no comment.” 

Can you call Maverick and tell him I’m okay? 

“Yeah, of course.” She pulled a pen and a slip of paper out of her scrub pocket, “Just write down his full name and number.”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

“Hi Captain Mitchell, this is Y/N and I’m Lieutenant Bradshaw’s nurse today.” You tried your best to sound as not nervous as possible. You always hated sitting at the nurses station and calling family members on the phone, usually because it was to give bad news or tell them to come to the hospital quickly to say goodbye. At least this time it was something positive.

“Oh my god,” The man choked on the other end of the line, “Is– Is he okay?”

“Yes, he’s fine. I’m sorry for scaring you.” You fiddled with the long phone cord, “He’s actually doing great. We took him off the ventilator about an hour ago and he’s breathing really well on his own. He’s working with physical therapy now, they have him out of bed and sitting in a chair.”

You could hear the joy in the man’s voice, “That’s incredible! Oh my god! I can’t wait to tell everyone, we’ve all been so worried. Can I speak to him?”

“Not quite yet, he’s not able to talk yet and will be hoarse for a little while.” You explained, twisting from side to side in the swiveling chair,  “But I can see if we can charge up his phone so he can text you and call when he’s able to.” 

“Thank you so much for the update, Y/N.” Capt. Mitchell gushed, “I usually have to call first for updates but this was such a great surprise.”

“Well one of the first things Bradley asked me to do for him after his extubation was call you and let you know that he’s okay.” 

He let out a happy sigh on the other end of the phone, “Did he really? That’s so good to hear. Tell him I’ll be home soon and my first stop will be to see him.”

You nodded, “Will do, Capt. Mitchell. You have a great rest of your day.”

“You as well, I know you’re taking great care of him.” And the call cut off right there.

“Ooooh look at you, big shot.” You couldn’t help but smile seeing Bradley sitting up in a chair and channel surfing on the crappy hospital TV.

Bradley picked up his white board and marker from the table beside him, Did you talk to Mav?

“You mean Capt. Mitchell?” You confirmed and Bradley nodded, “He said he’ll be home soon and his first stop will be to come see you. But hopefully you’ll have busted out of this joint before then.”

Bradley raised his eyebrows and scribbled, You think so?

You shrugged logging into the computer by his bed and starting to organize his 3pm medications, “I mean, I can’t say for sure. I know that you military dudes can’t tell people exactly where you’re going or when you’re coming home on your deployments. But if things keep going as well as they are, it seems like a good possibility you could be transferred to a step-down unit and then hopefully discharged in the next week or so.”

Bradley started writing again, I don’t want to go to another unit. I want to keep you as my nurse.

You giggled, “Well that is incredibly kind of you to say, but the best part of my job is seeing patients get well enough to be transferred to a lower acuity unit and then eventually discharged.”

Bradley pouted and drew a big fat frowny face on the whiteboard.

“You were a lot less sassy with that tube down your throat, Bradshaw.” You teased as you crossed the room with his meds, hanging them on the IV pole and programming the pump.

Pumping me up with poison? He smirked as he wrote.

“Nah, just antibiotics to treat that pesky infection that almost killed you and brought you in here.”

Damn, I was hoping you were gonna say they’re steroids to get me yolked. He flashed a mischievous grin at you.

You scoffed, “I took a pledge when I finished nursing school not to harm my patients and I considered giving them drugs that would shrink their balls and give them breasts doing harm.”

Bradley snorted and let out a hoarse laugh. Though it was very quiet, you could tell it was a great laugh.

“Hey Y/N, I’m taking room 4 back from you.” Carly, the young nurse from the morning, sat in the empty chair next to you at the nurses station.

“Oh great, do you want a full report or are you good with just the updates?” You asked, pulling out your notes from the day.

She clicked her pen, “Updates are just fine.”

“So the biggest news is that he was extubated today.” You grinned.

“Really?!” She gasped, “I’ve been pushing for that but the resident kept saying no.”

“Parks?” You inquired.

She nodded and sighed, “Yeah, have you met him?”

“Unfortunately.” You rolled your eyes, “I think he shares similar feelings about me as I do him.”

“I hope you gave him hell.” She giggled, “I’m still a new grad, so I don’t have enough experience under my belt to push back very much.”

“Well if he gives you any grief on your shift, don’t let it get to you. He’s also a new grad doctor, he’s also still learning.” You assured her then went on to finish your report.

“Hey Bradley, I’m headed out for the night. Carly’s gonna be taking care of you and I’ll be back tomorrow.” You entered the room with Carly by your side.

“Thank you…” Bradley croaked, “For everything…”

Your heart melted a little bit, you knew it took a lot of effort to get the words out, “You are more than welcome. And I’ll see you tomorrow. Hopefully we’ll get you transferred to a less intense unit.”

Rooster pouted and did a big thumbs down gesture.

You giggled, “That’s a great thing, Bradshaw. You don’t wanna be stuck in the ICU with me forever.”

He sassily rolled his eyes.

“Carly and I are gonna sign off some meds and check your lines.” You said, “And don’t give my girl too much sass tonight; she will be reporting back to me in the morning.”

Rooster scribbled on his whiteboard, No promises.

[salternateunreality2]

The Boys with a Stomach Bug (AGSZC)

We saw them with their SO/roommate/friend, now we see how they would act if they were the sick ones!

Angeal:

Mournfully turns into a sad depression rock and hides. He would keep working, but he's responsible enough to know that he's contagious. He tries to take home a huge stack of work, but he can't finish it because he's too miserable.

Passively tries to hint that he wants someone to take care of him, but won't say it outright.

"No, no, it's alright, I wouldn't want you to get sick too..." *Sad cough, despite not being sick with a cough*

He will accept glasses of water delivered to his door, but only if you press him, and he will refuse to let you in.

He will struggle through alone with vaporub on his elbows, powdered Gatorade in a gallon-sized jug, a raw piece of ginger root on his nightstand, and potato peels in his socks.

Genesis:

Canonically, he will make it everyone else's problem too.

Hugging the toilet, asking the goddess why she hath forsaken him. Hugging a bucket, sitting on the SOLDIER common room sofa, asking why no one cares if he dies. Hugging a pillow, asking why Angeal is in the kitchen instead of here with him.

He will try to stay at work, only to dramatically run out of his office to the closest executive bathroom and loudly get sick every hour until he's forcibly sent home.

He will complain about every little annoyance and text regular updates and beg Momgeal to bring him something else.

He will get half the SOLDIERs sick and cause massive staffing shortages.

Sephiroth:

Never gets sick and everyone hates him for that.

HOWEVER, if he gets experimented on or recklessly eats gas station sushi, he turns into the saddest, loneliest, wettest kitten and quietly shuts himself away, wishing for his mother.

If he's expected at work, he attends and just looks miserable the whole time until Lazard sends him home.

He's quieter than Angeal, and doesn't solicit or refuse help, because he doesn't think he deserves it, and is too confused to refuse when it shows up.

He also doesn't help himself. He stays hydrated and minimizes mess, meaning he spends a lot of time lying on the bathroom floor and drinking from the tap until he's operational again.

Where is momther?

Zack:

Gets suddenly and violently ill in the middle of practice.

He doesn't ask for people to show up and take care of him, but they can't help themselves and show up anyway.

As soon as they're in his apartment, he's excited to have friends, but it's pathetic to see, because instead of squatting, he tries a wobbly, tearful grin.

He's not demanding, but he asks for a lot and prefers not to be alone. He likes to sit on the couch, and will ask for popsicles please and soup and water and juice if you don't mind, and then he'll throw up because he tried it too soon.

He recovers quickly and thoroughly, and is jokingly hated for it because what was a 24 hour bug for him has the rest of SOLDIER (who he infected) needing a week off at a time.

He's forgiven, because he's really sweet and helpful to everyone else.

Cloud:

Can't afford time off, so throws up into random bushes and keeps stumbling forward.

He's given 12 hours of leave after he passes out from dehydration and sickness mid-patrol, which means he returns still sick and passes out again.

This time they drop him off in the infirmary to suffer alone until he's cleared for duty.

He's miserable and just sleeps as much as he can and survives out of spite.

He mostly wants to be left alone to perish in peace and is agonizing over how this is going to disqualify him from SOLDIER somehow, until Zack calls.

He doesn't tell Zack what happened until Zack weasels it out of him. Then Zack shows up with Kunsel and a massive cauldron of Angeal's soup.

Cloud pretends to hate it, but secretly soaks up the attention like a sponge until he gets embarrassed and pretends to fall asleep while Zack sings to him.

[casablancarossa]

Please Amore.

<< a taemin x reader story>>

asdfghjkl; I'm fine seriously. Totally have recovered(?) No I have not been sitting on this fic for a while.

Pairings : Taemin x female!reader Genre: Smut. Content Warning : 18+, Minors DNI, Yeah it is smut okay?! Synopsis: You missed a side of Taemin. The non-gentle side of Taemin. And you are hellbent in seeing it. Authors Note: Seem I am incapable of writing anything short? So here ya go darlings. Another long read of Taemin torturing us.

You relaxed back into your seat of the green room, watching through the monitor of Taemin's performance. He was breathless, sweating and positively oozing with 'fuck me' energy. Something about him performing Strings really stirred something in you where you couldn't control yourself around him. It was like a little drug in your system that craved being held by him, being right under him. A lump in your throat caused you to cough violently which caused the stylists and other stage staff to giggle at you a bit.

It was not a secret, at least to anyone in the industry that Taemin had been seeing someone since before enlisting in the army. Even eagle-eyed fans knew that the very song he was singing was on ode to someone he was seeing. If anything, Taemin was no stranger to releasing music that felt sinful but with such an angelic voice, it offered that duality that piqued the interest of fans.

Such a daring mixture to play Strings after Heaven too. It made you laugh how bold Taemin has been and it's something you needed him to let loose out on you. You wandered out of the green room so you could wander towards the side of the stage, wondering if you can take a peek through the equipment. Staff were running back and forth, making sure the the lighting underneath the tilted stage were still responding when the lights needed to be changed,

Taemin was not even halfway through his set list and he was already annoying you and you had to sit there and witness this man, not only ruin your life but as well as thousands of Shawols' lives too, purely by existing. You try not to even think about the stunt he pulled with Criminal. So early onto the concert too. That's right honey, destroy all our fucking underwear why don't you. Groaning, you ask the stage manager if you could borrow some items that could make you pass as stage staff so you could walk around top up Taemin's water bottle collection.

You were surprised when a stylist noona commented that you could probably fit into Taemin's regular clothes and go out unnoticed if you layer and pad yourself out. While jamming to Taemin singing his pretty little heart out, you rush back to the green room and throwing Taemin's clothes on and layering a thick hoodie on top of it all. His favourite cap laid on the makeup table. If I wear this, would he recognize it's me? You quickly grab the hat and tuck your hair in before the same stylist walked in with a black mask and glasses.

She comments how it might help and shield your face a bit more, understanding how fans might not take a random female stage staff too lightly, but also just in case you might get recognized in the future.

As you walk back to the side stage an ahjussi has prepared a staff lanyard for you and headphones. With this, you truly looked like you have been working as a stage staff the whole time. Euisoo saunters towards you, giving you water bottles to carry outside, commenting to keep your head down and try not to distract Taemin. He warned you knowing fully well, that while you may have no intention or plans or even attempts to distract him, he knows Taemin well enough that the mere sight of you, or your presence amongst the crowd sends the boy on frenzy and ends up distracting himself.

Taemin would finally have a chance to settle, get some water, not wanting to pull away from his adoring fans. He was so grateful for them and you admired how humble he was under the care, love and support Shawols have given him. You make your way out the hidden staff door under the stage so you could hug the walls of the platform, walking to the nearest water station and placing the bottles Euisoo had given to you.

The cold arena felt suddenly warm as Taemin walks towards where you were picking up a water bottle, crouching down. He surely couldn't have noticed you already did he? With your head down, you stand back, stepping beside one of the ground staff who were talking to Taemin through his earpiece. Idle babble of lighting, warning about various pyro and confetti explosions and adjusting sounds were going on. A supposed 15 minute conversation happened in less than a minute in your head, surprised by how efficient Taemin was communicating with the team while his mic was still on, giving hand signals for simple yes and no questions. All the while, he was staring you down every now and then while he conversed with the fans.

Of course he noticed you. He could pick you out from a line-up, while horribly wasted and half blind. Taemin also knew what you were like, how this side of him performing drove you insane. He was so happy to leave you accustomed to his chaotic childlike, puppy behaviour at home, that when he switches during performances or in bed, it felt like a bus had crashed into you from how sudden and unexpected it is.

You did only have yourself to blame, afterall you were the one with the pitiful request to let Taemin spare you from his sinful advances on a very regular and almost too frequent basis. As much as you adored the side of Taemin that you see in stage, with you, it felt like he had set the dial was at 100. Taemin was rough for sure, his dominant streak was what got you hooked and dear gods he was good at it too.

How on one occasion during his trip back home from the military, for a family dinner, Taemin had used the small kitchen to his advantage, brushing his hips against yours with a slight buck, whenever he needed something from the cupboard in front of you. How during a photo-op encouraged by his mom, caused him to delicately trail his fingers up and down your spine, which he knew sent you dizzy and breathless. Yes that is what Taemin loved to do to you, to tease you in public. While he may have enough self composure to not go wild, you however could not and by the wee hours of the night, you are begging, pleading and if it was in an empty house, probably screaming Taemin's praises.

But after one too many arguments, accusing Taemin that he only wanted you for your body, the quality of sex didn't necessarily die down, but the significant decrease meant that Taemin was more susceptible to being more casual, more tender and loving. It's no surprise to anyone, but Taemin was a cheesy romantic. He was the type to scatter rose petals in the bath tub when you had a long day. He was the type to quietly harass Kai, Jimin and Ravi to go to a spontaneous location he had picked mere minutes ago so he could take you there and by the time you two have arrived, Taemin's friends would be panting, breathless after quickly decorating a very elaborate and stocked picnic set-up.

At it's very core, it was all romantic and yes Taemin had no qualms in ravaging you in public, but nowadays it felt like Taemin no longer fucking you but made love to you instead, which was completely two separate things for you. You loved getting fucked by your boyfriend but you treasured being made love to even more.. It was heated and passionate without the frills and it was just the two of you with Taemin coveting your body like the goddess he deemed you to be. But you weren't an idiot or insensitive either, deep down more than ever you knew, Taemin craved that extra form of control, to have you be a broken mess under him, to have you be at every beck and call to his commands, not because you were scared but because you did enjoy it as much as he did.

Gods, how long have you been staring at him from the bottom of the stage? You were so lost in your thoughts that you had been functioning on auto-pilot for the last few minutes and if it weren't for the explosion during Danger, nothing would have snapped you out of it. From the corners of your eyes. you saw Euisoo gesture for you to rush towards him to the staff door. The manager, mentions something about outfit change and having Taemin upside down again and how your boyfriend might appreciate a comforting face for support.

"Wah, Lee Taemin, you were so cool out the there!", you exclaimed as you walk back into the green room.

There he was, your own personal Adonis, shirtless once more, holding his next outfit in his hands. Shocked that he wasn't dreaming that you were indeed wearing his clothes as you plop his hoodie on a sofa. "Were?" he cocked his brow at your statement.

"Are. Still are" you corrected yourself at his behest, stepping towards him as the stylists carefully take the mic pack away from his trousers, setting it aside. While yes it is their job to get the idol all dressed up and ready, you really did not need to see them get handsy on your man, despite them having literally the most purest of intentions. "Don't worry eonnies, I can dress him from here", you stated out loud, casting your eyes at the women as they remained while Taemin walked towards the changing screen to change in private, had they stayed in the room.

At your words, Taemin cracked a grin, looking back behind him. Is his girlfriend having a stand-off with his stylist noonas? The air was thick with tension and you couldn't have been anymore obvious that you wanted them out of the room. He offers a nod to one of the older stylists that it was okay. It wasn't your first rodeo in getting him ready. For the better part of 'Hard' promotions, Taemin had you chasing after him because he refuses to get his hair and makeup done properly after eating and mainly because he got distracted annoying Key about their 'couple bags'.

As soon as the doors closed and that you two were finally alone, Taemin, resumed getting undressed, hastily putting on the red outfit left behind consisting of some baggy pants and a very convoluted styled sweatshirt with dangling pieces of fabric and an overskirt to wear over his pants. Meanwhile, you had approached him with a puff sponge in one hand, already coated in product as you dab at his face gently, working the product in and trying to apply it evenly, lifting his chin so you could even out his jawline. Your fingers playful trickle down the side of his neck before wrapping them around the base, looking up at him with desires that could burn this room right now.

Taemin quickly grabbed your wrist, pulling them away from his neck, still holding on with a firm grip, his head lowered, just so his lips were mere millimetres away from each other. Before he could lean in to kiss you, your head darted back, avoiding his advances. You stumble backwards to walk towards the vanity. With a slight bend of your back and over the table, you dropped the sponge and picked up a lip tint this time, carefully applying it to yourself with your fingers without contaminating the applicator.

You watched through the mirror as your partner's eyes had darkened, watching you bent over any surface, watching your finger carefully swipe against your plush bottom lip before biting them, as your siren eyes lure him even so slightly. You played coy as you rested both of your hands on the desk to keep yourself up while jutting out your backside for Taemin's viewing pleasure. Your hands carelessly tousled through your hair before hiding a devilish grin behind them as they cascade to frame your face.

How is it, not a word has been uttered between the two of you and yet so much was said. You were trying to play with fire and Taemin was not pleased by your actions. He lets out a little cough to break the silence, making his way towards you. One hand grip at the backrest of a chair that was standing beside you, he carefully lifts to tilt it forward an inch before slamming the back legs down to catch your attention, almost making your jump in your spot.

Your body effortlessly sway and sit down on the seat Taemin had moved, your eyes were more alert, constantly staring at the dark haired boy through the mirror. His tongue clicks, before standing right behind you, his eye were barely peeking through his fringes. You didn't like it when you couldn't see his eyes. Usually they were the first giveaway of what emotions he was feeling at a given moment. "Hands clasped behind the chair", he orders.

You struggle at his words, they sounded a bit darker and lustful. "We don't have much time, amore",

With a nod, your hands finds themselves clasped together, your eyes never leaving the sight of him. You wanted to take it all in, you wanted to see the switch, the dial up past 100. Taemin's hands rest on your shoulders, lightly massaging them as they make they way towards the nape of you neck. Taemin quickly rustled through his pockets taking out a lengthy red fabric, arranging it accordingly before wrapping it around your eyes, doing a loose knot behind your head.

It wasn't long before his fingers thread through your hair, clasping a fistful and pulling your head back. You normally would have let out a pained mewled but Taemin didn't give you a chance as his lips crashed down onto yours, feverishly kissing you while his spare hand roams your chest, carelessly grabbing at your breast, trying to push his digits past the bounds of your bra so he could pinch your nipple through your shirt.

His touch almost scalds you as quivers and squirm in his hands. God you craved his touch so much, you desperately sought out for his fiery skin against yours. You can already imagine how it would feel so nice to feel how soft his skin is, how it is hot to touch, how it smoothly glides against your own, every cell and fibre getting electrocuted at the intensity of it all. Damn clothes. Damn fucking clothes. You mewled more desperately into his kiss, silently pleading more.

As much as Taemin wanted to tease you, he couldn't resist. You could feel the back of your head hit what you assumed is his abdomen. His fistful grip never left your head, occasionally tugging at it, but not his other hand found your knee and with a swipe up towards your heated core, your legs had unconsciously spread open for him, his fingers trailing circles around your thighs. You found it hard to keep the grip on your own hand as you desperately wanted to touch him as well, to guide his hands where it mattered, but if you disobeyed him, he might not even touch you tonight.

The man's hands fumbled against his jeans which you were wearing and until there was enough give, he snaked his hand through the crotch area and began teasing your heated mound through the fabric of your underwear, eliciting a very audible gasp out of you. His lips were suddenly close to your ear, with heavy breathing. "Don't make a sound mi amore, they will hear how slutty you get", he teased.

You bit your lips trying to contain your voice, but it didn't help that Taemin was talented in finding your bundle of nerves, his finger pressing on it rhythmically and circling it around that cased your body to lean forward in pain. Taemin continued his pace before a teasing finger had pressed your underwear a little bit into you.

The sudden intrusion had cause your legs to almost snap shut, trapping Taemin's hands in between your thighs and it weren't for his growl, you would have followed through, but you focused so hard in keeping your legs spread, your thighs slightly convulsing after straining to stay open. Taemin rewarded your efforts by delicately manoeuvring his fingers to set aside your underwear and bury two fingers immediately into you, causing your body to lean forward even more, your lips spread almost silently screaming.

Taemin watched through the mirror as your body jolts here and there as his fingers relentlessly pumps into you, groaning at how your walls clenched around his digits, the only noise filling the room were subdued panting and squelching noises. "Don't you look pretty like this, mi amore", he asks pulling your head up by your hair.

What a stupid question. You were blindfolded, but you knew what he meant. He loved how easy it was for you to fantasize about what was happening to your whenever you were blindfold. As if you seeing yourself come undone by Taemin, helpless and needy, made you so much more wetter. "Amore..", you whimpered. "Please..."

Taemin let's out a sinister chuckle before whispering, "No". With his words, he pulled his fingers out quickly out of you and quickly grabbed the blindfold off you before rushing towards the door. You were so lost in the moment, you had not even realized there had been knocking voices for Taemin to get on the stage to get strapped in for the rotating platform.

Your look at yourself through the mirror wondering how the ever loving fuck did you look so dishevelled. A few baby coughs left your chest as you recollect yourself before standing up, finding it hard as a noticeable pressure has built up between your legs. Fucking Taemin, you are a dick, you thought to yourself before standing up to walk out of the room to see Taemin, already harnessed on and about to flipped for his entrance to 'Door'

As the concert continued, you stayed in the side-lines and watched Taemin perform, cheering quietly from where you were as to not disturb the staff who you already have probably annoyed tonight.

When it was time for another outfit change, Taemin hurried towards the sides, calling your name out repeatedly. The man stated out loud that you would be helping him get dressed again which caused the stylists to back down and giggle as his words caused an annoyed scowl plastered all over your face. His hands have a death grip around your wrists once more, rushing towards the room and giving the door a little slam. "Tae, you need to chill, people will definitely think we are about to fuck", you sighed as you stumble into the dimmed room.

"Fuck them" Taemin lets out a growl, a growl you know to well as his 'I'm horny and I'm angry growl'.

Before you could utter another word, Taemin grabs you by the shoulders, pushing you towards the makeup table, his hand roaming your sides and back as he plants a doozy of a kiss, forcing your lips apart with his tongue. It was like a familiar dance that you have found yourself in. He pushes you onto any surface and your automatic instinct is to sit on it, parting your legs to give room for Taemin to between them, while your arms are hooked on his shoulder, pulling him more into the kiss.

"Mmf--What. Am. I. Going. To. Do. With. You" Taemin groans, enunciating every word with a kiss, starting from your lips that trailed to your jaws then neck.

"Anything please. Everything." the words fell like a lump of nonsense and mumbles, but you were too focused on the fact that Taemin had nipped slightly on your neck.

Your pleading voice arouses him further, his hand snake up your body, tugging harshly onto the shirt you were wearing before lifting them up. You could see his eyes were filled with hunger seeing your breasts practically pooling out of your bra.

His lips began to pepper kisses along your chest before latching onto one of the mounds, sucking and biting on it, while his hands playfully massage them, flicking and pinching your nipples occasionally. "Tae wait.. if you keep doing that.. I can't help being loud" you gasped.

"Well then amore, hopefully you can control yourself" he winks up at you before sliding downwards kissing your stomach and placing tepid kisses on your hips.

His trip back up to kiss your lips was nothing short of sweet as he find the familiarity of stripping his jeans off you, picking up your hips so he could also include your underwear in the mix. The moment he heard the thud of the clothing hit the floor, Taemin spreads your legs once more and knelt in front of you with that darn devilish grin of his.

He makes the gesture of shh, placing a finger on his lips before using the same finger and slowly enter your core, causing you to whimper. Taemin chuckles to himself, knowing fully well that you were too bothered and sensitive to have the capacity of being silent. He pumps the lone finger, his head tilting from side to side so he could observe your face and body.

Your hips were bucking like you needed more, a small movement but it encouraged Taemin to add a second finger in, fully in motion of thrusting inside of you, twisting and spreading you to the best of his abilities. Once his fingers hook at a certain spot, he watches your head throw itself back, letting out a loud cough to cover your whimper.

You were seeing stars and your breathing had become so audible, you were convinced floor staff had heard you. You try to look down at your boyfriend pump his fingers into you unforgivingly but seeing the sight of him part his lips and envelop your clit was a sight to behold indeed.

Such sheepish licks, caused a shockwave through your body and all you could think of was trapping Taemin's head in your thighs as you grab his hair, trying to keep him down there until he finished you off.

You could feel the peak approaching as Taemin made good work of his mouth and fingers, making sure he savoured the taste of you while he was down there. But truly nothing could prepare you for Taemin immediately pulling away when you stated how close you were to bliss. Your body barely knew how to react as you let out a little cry, the sudden missing feeling of Taemin on you, made you tremble.

"Please Amore... that was mean.. " you panted, your vision settling to see he was in the midst of changing into the final lilac suit.

"Mean? What's mean is you not using your pretty little mouth"

You look up to see that Taemin had left the blazer and trousers unbuttoned and through his black boxers, perfectly outlined his erection. His body slumped back onto the sofa in the room, beckoning you to move towards him. He chuckles darkly as he watches you naked from the waist down and your shirt rolled upwards, resting on the slope of your breasts. "Here, just in case", he laughs once more, chucking a blanket scarf your direction.

You catch the item, roughly wrapping it around your waist , enough to cover your privates but thin enough to know you were bare under it. In a fluid motion, you crouch down to crawl towards Taemin, settling yourself between his legs. Your hands roam his thighs before meeting at the band of his boxers, sheepishly tugging it down until his dick had popped out, surprising you. "May I taste it... Sir?" your eyes lift ever so slightly.

As if it wasn't obvious from Taemin's hitched breath and the way his cock twitched, hearing you mewl your last word sent chills through his body. The last time you had called him that was the last time he acted as a dominant and where you finally argued with him about feeling like a sex toy rather than his girlfriend in bed. He doesn't recall being disrespectful but is fully aware that he gets in the zone too hard and would punish you equally as his previous bratty submissive partners.

Taemin carefully reaches forward, brushing your hair and holding it to a ponytail with a firm grip. His other hand cups your cheeks, his thumb tenderly brushes against your lips before using his hold on your hair to guide you closer to his aching member.

Without wasting time, your tongue darts out to lick from base to tip before opening your mouth to take him in. "F..fuck y/n"

You giggle despite having your mouth filled as you proceed to bob your head up and down, twirling your tongue and moaning. The vibrations and sensations overwhelm Taemin as his hips jerk upwards, causing your to gag a little. While it didn't deter you from continuing on, it was enough of a sign for him to use your mouth as he pleases.

Taemin roughens his grip on your hair, pushing you down as his hips thrust up. God he missed this. He missed fucking your face, hearing your stubborn coughs as you allow him to abuse your throat like this. He couldn't help notice how gorgeous you were like this. His obedient girl. Something primal triggered within him as he watches you remain strong willed to not pull away, noticing how strings of saliva had began dripping from the corners off your mouth. How he was fucking your mouth had become so messy with slight tears smudging your own makeup and how the slightest hint of your lipstick has tinted the base of his cock. Taemin lets out as hiss as you fully take him in with a pause letting the tip of his member rest at the back of your mouth.

Just because he denied you your orgasm, doesn't mean he doesn't get to finish. He internally swears he will make it worth it. He tries to shift in his seat, so he could lean forward to give a gratuitous slap on your ass as he keeps your head down on him. "Drink me up Amore.. " he grunts every word with a thrust, picking up the pace.

It didn't take long before he mewls your name, coughing and using whatever articles of clothing to dampen the sound escaping his lips. You could feel string after string as Taemin fills up your mouth with his cum. You lap it all up, making sure not one drop is wasted as you lean back to an upright position sitting on your knees.

Taemin lets out a few more coughs, trying to collect himself, panting heavily as he smirks at you. You daintily wipe the corners of your mouth with your finger and offer him a little smile. "I think the fans have finished singing" you note.

Right on queue, the knock finally at the door came, asking Taemin to come out quickly. "I promise to make it up to you Amore" he whispers, his hands cupping your face to place a kiss on your forehead before standing up to finish getting dressed and heading out.

You sat alone in that room, thinking to yourself how you couldn't wait for him to fulfil his promise. You desperately craved his primal side now.

As if the stylists knew something funky went on in the room, they knock, just to make sure, that you were okay for them to come in to tidy up. You cough and hurriedly scoot to where Taemin had stripped you, grabbing your underwear and rushing towards the changing screen, calling them in.

As soon as you finally had calmed down and made yourself modest, you rushed out back to the side stage, making sure you were there for Taemin as he wraps up his final set. You were in such awe and couldn't wait to drown him in affection and congratulatory praises, but your cheeks were downright flushed thinking about the prospects of what happens next.

You were too lost in your own dirty fantasies that you had not noticed Key and Minho standing in front of you, waving and trying to pull you out of your daydreams. "Yah, Lee Taemin, I think y/n is no longer with us" Key calls out to your boyfriend who had just exited the main stage and rushing to hug Minho and Key.

"H-huh?" you mumbled, finally snapping out of your thoughts to see the three Shinee members standing in front of you, smiling however Taemin's was coated with wickedness.

"Wow. You really love him so much that you are in awe huh" Key jokingly scoffs at your direction.

"I couldn't be more proud of him" you giggled, stepping forward to embrace Taemin and peck his lips. "By the way, I didn't put my underwear back on, but the eonnies left you a spare change of clothes" you whispered into his ear.

Taemin chuckles as he pulls away, pardoning himself so he could get changed. Conversations happened here and there and instead of celebrating immediately with drinks and food close by, Taemin had suggested that he wanted to go home first to let his mom know that he was planning on drinking and might be home late and need her to take care of the cats.

This was obviously a lie, kind of. His mom would need to take care of the cats however, due to Taemin's busy schedule, the cats were at her place instead for the weekend.

As the pair of you began to part ways from everyone after an agonizingly painful debate on where to eat, and one heated argument with Euisoo later, Taemin managed to convince his manager that he would like the chance to be able to drive his his girlfriend to the next location and be able to bond with here in peace.

What a fool they were for thinking how cute that sounded because as far as you were concerned, you and Taemin never really made it further out of the carpark.

After waving everyone off, Taemin had hurriedly thrown you into the backseat of his car, jumping in with you with a hungry kiss. "Mmmf, Taemin.. you sure?? Here?" you gasped in between his barrage of kisses.

"Taemin? What happened to Sir" his tone had shifted once more. "Beside I thought you might appreciate the intimacy of a tight enclosed space. Now what was that again about not having your underwear on"

You giggled as you lean against the passenger door, raising your hips so you could pull out said article of clothing from the back pocket.

"How dirty of you Amore, soiling my clothes like this" Taemin whispers, his hands falling familiar to unbuttoning the jeans once more and tugging at them so they just gathered around your knees.

Taemin pulls you off your position and despite the tight area, he manoeuvred you with ease, placing you in front of him bent over, with your hands in the footwell to keep yourself up and your ass in perfect view from his face.

He daringly bites the plump flesh of your cheeks causing you to wince, with his hands once more, teasing your core. Flick. "Amore, listen to me well.." Flick. "Sir desperately wants to fuck you senseless" Flick. "I want this car to shake and be filled with your screams. Okay?" his words were concise but struggled here and there.

He gave a good smack on your ass once more, enough that it stung but that was a sign to get it moving. He had quickly discarded his trousers and boxers, lost in the void of the front seats. Your body shuffled once more to allow yourself and Taemin to be in position where you could sit on his lap, there was not much headroom, but you found yourself leaning back into him, back flushed against his chest

You spat on your hand enough that when you reach down to hold Taemin's member, it was enough lubrication the guide the tip at your entrance, hesitating for a bit.

Taemin however could not wait as he thrusts up, intruding and spreading your open earning a pleased groan out of you. Finally all the tension in your body caved into the pleasure of having Taemin's cock in you. You absorbed every movement as he makes the best effort of plunging in and out of you in a steady rhythm making your bounce on his lap. "Nngh.. sir.. please" you whimpered.

"Please what?"

"More please.."

Taemin secured his arms around your torso, and slightly sinking into the seat so he had the positional advantage to drive himself up in you in a rapid pace. Your grip shifted to hold onto the backrest of the front seats almost holding yourself in place because if Taemin thrusted any harder and you would be either through the roof of the car or half of your body would be over the centre console.

It didn't matter that you were uncomfortable as the euphoric feeling zaps every nerve in your system, overwhelmed by how rough and aggressive Taemin was getting with his pounding. Delicate fingers sneak under your shirt and what could only be described as the man handling of your breasts.

Taemin's name would be the only word left in your brain as he softly whispers sweet nothings into your ear. His hot breath felt like fire against your skin and hearing his shaky breaths and how he moans your name, it sent you wild. "y/n.. y/n.. y/n.. god you. drive. me. insane" he punctuates his words with long and deep thrusts.

Those thrusts came with a price as it it had tickled just the right spots in you evoking a squeal and your walls clenching down on him. You couldn't tell if it was dark out or had your eyes been squeezed shut and you were beginning to see stars. "Taemin .. I mean.. sir.. please fill me up" you moaned, turning your head to look back at him.

He chuckles, pushing your ass up and off it, giving it a quick slap and kiss. "Turn around, I want to look into your eyes as I flood you y/n".

Obedient as you were, it took a few attempts to get to a comfortable position in the back seat as you straddled Taemin, drinking up the sight of how sweaty he had gotten, how his eyes were half lidded shut, equally lost in his arousal. Unconsciously, you began to grind on his shaft, teasing the both of you as his tip poked at your entrance every now and then.

The hot air surrounded the two of you as streams of panting came from both of you. For a small moment, you manage to catch Taemin's eye, filled love and desire. He offers you a soft smile, hand placed on your cheeks. Without breaking eye contact, his spare hand reaches down so he could align himself so in your next grind, he would finally fill you up again, letting out a shudder. Your walls were gripping around him tight and he knew fully well, you two wouldn't last at this rate.

Taemin leans forward to nibble at your collarbone, slapping your ass once more to get you moving as you now bounce up and down, feeling more intense by the minute. He would make you lose your mind even further as me meets your bounce with the thrust, essentially slamming his self into you. His name fell from your lips like a trance, singing his praises and how you craved him.

Your body could barely hold itself together as your body collapses backwards ignoring the fact that your balance was supported by the front two seats, your shoulder resting on either side. Taemin watch your body arches, eyes ogling as your breasts flail with every buck of his hips. His hands get to work. One hand reaches up at your neck, wrapping his fingers around them and applying pressure while the other hand palms at your lower abdomen, sinking lower until his thumb could reach to stimulate your clit once more.

Taemin was more that happy to comply that he would make it up to you. You were a mewling and moaning mess under his control and he could see that you were on the brink of probably causing a scene as your volume was probably leaking out of the car. "Amore.. wait... wait..", you could barely speak out as a scream teared through your throat as you finally reach your release.

Your whole body contorts and honestly, you would have screamed bloody murder if it weren't for the fact Taemin's hands was on your throat and essentially holding you down. Seeing the sight before him unravel, it didn't take long for Taemin to follow suit, releasing his own into you.

There was moment of silence before you felt Taemin's arms snake around you, pulling you back to him. "I think... we should bail on dinner" he breaths out against your skin making you mewl.

"Amore.. we can't keep disappearing on group dinners"

"Fine... but when we get home we need to discuss some safe words before I break you"

[witch-hazels-musings]

familiar 

Warning -> comfort, SFW - sick fic! (reader is sick: aches and pains, sore throat, general sick descriptions | reader passes out | reader is carried | reader is taken to an unfamiliar location and wakes up a bit disoriented but is safe | Childe: reader is threatened but unharmed, fingers get cut off of random person)

Includes: Childe, Diluc, Thoma

Character X GN Reader | Anthology

Your skin was burning. You breathed and the air felt like fire as it passed across your chapped, dry lips. Someone called your name and you turned, lifted yourself from a hunched position to look only for the action to make your head swim.

You smiled anyway.

"Hello, how can I help you?" The patron near the counter slid something toward you. What was it? You blinked and realized there were several items in a basket. You swore they multiplied as you pulled them out one by one. The transaction was the slowest you'd completed in your life but it wasn't the last as several more people stepped in line. You felt a bead of sweat run down your spine.

You smiled and greeted them.

--

Your head throbbed. Parts of your body you rarely thought about ached, cried out in pain as you rose from the chair.

Finally, you could go home. Could rest.

Unsteady, the world teetering as you made your way toward the door, you caught your breath near the entrance only to realize you'd left your bag and the shop key in the back office.

Coughing, you tried to clear your throat and push through the waves of disorientation as you meandered back down the hall. You labored in the doorway with ragged breaths trying to remember what you went back here for. Pressing your forehead against the trembling and clammy hand that held onto the door frame, you tried to focus.

"What did I ..." you mumbled, scanning the room. A flash of flickering light from outside caught your attention. Pushing forward you grabbed the key and made your way to the front door.

The outside air felt as refreshing as drinking a cold glass of water on a hot day. You gasped at the way it caressed your skin, at the way it soaked into the mist that speckled your brow, that clung to the edges of your hairline. You breathed deeply, welcoming the strain of your lungs before an inevitable cough tore you from the reprieve. You crumbled, caught your breath, then, with multiple uncoordinated attempts, locked the front door.

It was hard to concentrate, but you let your muscle memory carry you through the streets. You did your best to smile and keep a safe distance from those you passed, though most people didn't seem to notice you, even when you staggered and caught yourself on a beam for support.

I just have to get home, you told yourself. Eyes blurry, head swirling and disorganized. The stack of crates next to you served as a useful crutch. You did your best to catch your quickening breaths against them. All you wanted to do was sleep.

You made it through the day like this, what was a few more minutes?

A surge of strength rose in you as you pushed away from the pile of crates but as soon as you took a step your legs crumbled and you fell into a heap at the edge of the street. Your hands burned from the violent contact of the sharp, frozen ground. Puffs of steam exploded from your mouth as you struggled to take in as much air as you exhaled.

You swore you heard your name but when you turned your head to look, the world went dark.

--

Childe

His smile faded as soon as they left his office. The click of the door was the switch he needed to flip the mask he was so good at wearing. Just like he had learned - like a good boy.

He wiped his face with the palm of his hand and rose from his chair. At least they gave him a window - though perhaps it was more of a tease than a gift. A reminder that he was trapped in a room with suffocating walls. Like a caged animal, whose only desire was to feel the soil beneath their feet.

He hated when they made him do this work. Even if it was a pain, he'd rather be out in the field training new recruits than sitting in this stifling room signing off on peoples debts they'd never repay.

Childe sighed and leaned against the window. He scanned the passersby, hoping, wishing one of them would give him an excuse to leave this cramped office. Though, it was unlikely - Liyue rarely had anything fun. He missed the days before the Archon fell. At least then he had toys to play with.

A knock rattled his thoughts, "We've got three more for you, sir."

"Tell them to come back tomorrow," Childe called without looking at the massive and decorated door.

"I'll be sending in the next one shortly," they replied, clearly ignoring him. He rolled his eyes and looked back down to the street. In the corner, just out of view, he saw someone stumble through a back alley. He would have passed it off as a drunk if there wasn't an air of familiarity to the figure.

Childe pinched his brow as drifting voices spilled in from the hall.

He turned to head back at his desk but gave one last look to the alleyway and saw a small group taking the same path the stumbling person just walked.

"Childe will see you now," the voice said as they opened the door to Childe's office, head bowed and eyes closed as their arm escorted them inside.

"Um - who will?"

The voice snapped their eyes open to see an empty office with an open window and billowing curtains. "damn-it", they cursed and ran down the hallway.

-

Childe stayed in the shadows. Curiosity leading the way as he stalked the group. Further down the alley something crashed onto the stone ground but he had a hard time making out what it was. The group turned a corner and he could hear their voices echo off the tight buildings. He leapt onto a nearby walk-way hoping to get a good view of whatever was about to happen below, but when he saw who they were stalking their way toward, he finally understood why his body leapt out the window on its own.

Rage filled him as he launched forward so he could land between your gasping body and the oncoming group.

"What did I tell you guys? Easy pickins -- woah!" The group raised their hands as a wave of water splashed against them. They all stumbled, but one fell to the ground. "What the-"

"I suggest you leave."

"Huh?!" The one in the middle stepped forward, clothes soaked, hands fumbling for a knife. "T-this was ours first. So b-back off," he tried to puff out his chest but looked more like a drenched toad than anything to be frightened of. It would have made Childe laugh it he weren't currently seething, and if he hadn't looked back to see you shaking, terrified as you barely held yourself off the ground.

"If you're looking for a fight, I'll happily provide you one," Childe threatened, his blades appearing in his hands and sending out a high pitch whine as they danced in his grip, "See I've been cooped up all day and could really use a good workout."

"H-hey man, let's just go," one of them quivered, grabbing the 'leaders' arm.

"No, this is ours - we need thi-" the leaders voice died out as a slash of water cut through the fingers that had managed to grip his feeble knife in the first place. The man screamed, doubled over while his friends held onto his shoulders to keep him from falling to the ground.

"I must not have heard you correct. Because, I'm pretty sure you just called something of mine, yours?" Childe took a step toward them, his body raging, his blades growing at the thought of them calling you theirs. "So, I'm going to give you another chance to repeat yourself."

The group scurried like rats down the drenched alleyway and though he was half-temped to chase after them, to teach them a lesson, he barely made it a step when something burning grabbed his pant leg.

In an instant, his blades faded into nothing and he turned to scoop you into his still trembling arms. You were on fire, and even though he could tell you had near to no strength, you still managed to wrap your arms around his neck and hide against him.

With a possessive hand cupping the back of your head, he held you close and made his way to where he knew you'd be safe.

--

You could finally breathe without a protest from your lungs. Only a few areas ached instead of everywhere, and though you were still warm, you felt surrounded by cool waters.

Shifting, you tried to sit up, to open your eyes, but something covered your eyes and you fell back into satin.

"Sleep," a voice told you. It felt stern, but warm. Your tried to push the darkness away but found it hard, even when you curled your fingers around the palm of someone's hand. "You're still sick. So go back to bed."

"Where -- where am I?" you croaked, your voice dry and scratchy.

"You're safe." The voice felt so familiar. You breathed and though your nose was stuffy, you caught a whiff of something that made you turn your head toward the dip in the bed.

"... Childe? What's happening?"

"Don't worry your head over it. You're alright, that's all that matters."

You listened to his voice, felt his palm against your skin, sensed his presence next to you. You weren't sure how you got here, honestly you weren't sure where you even were, but Childe was here - he was right here and, as you moved closer to him and let your forehead press against his side, you felt safer than you ever had in all your life.

--

Childe turned his head from the book in his hands to glance at the sleeping figure next to him. It was the first time he'd ever seen you so relaxed, so at ease. The first time you'd ever been this near to him - the first time you'd ever been in his bed.

Carefully, he ran his fingers over your ear and let them know the taste of your skin while you slept.

He sighed and wondered how he was ever going to let you go now.

--

Diluc

The cold air reminded him another season was passing, changing. He'd stopped trying to measure the passage of time years ago, but there was something about cold, night air that felt like a ticking clock. Or maybe it was the reliable pocket watch he kept with him while he worked to help him tell when he could 'respectfully' request everyone leave so he could do more, important, work.

"Master Diluc," Charles said as he slid a heavy wooden box onto the back counter, "I think we've got another in the back."

"Great," Diluc held back a sigh but not the heavy roll of his eyes, and stashed the cup he had just pulled down for a customer. "Finish this up. I'll deal with it."

"Sounds good. What can I getcha?" he asked the drunk patron who didn't seem bothered to repeat their order to the new, friendlier, bartender.

Diluc reached for his jacket as he passed the back office. His hair snagged the coarse fabric as he pulled it from underneath. He adjusted the collar before opening the door to the back alley.

He hated dealing with drunks in the first place, but a sick one throwing up behind his establishment was somehow worse.

Scanning the immediate area didn't reveal anything to him. So he took another step into the chilly evening. Off in the distance, near the stairs that lead to the small docks on the lake, he saw a silhouette hunched over a stack of crates. Ones he had just assisted in unloading earlier that day.

"Hey, don't make it other people's problem if you can't hold your ---" Diluc froze when he saw the blob of dark shadows turn into your shape and likeness. He blinked, thinking he had made it up, but as he drew closer he knew his eyes didn't lie. Normally, you would have waved to him, called out to him - brightened his day - but right now you looked terrible. When he called to you, you didn't answer.

His pace quickened when he saw you stumble away from the crates and he was practically running when you fell to the ground. He let out a breath when he was just in time to catch your head before it careened into the cobblestone.

"... are you ok--?" Diluc turned you toward him but he didn't need to feel your brow to know you were burning up. He could see it in your pained expression, in the moisture of the night as it drifted toward him. When he realized you didn't have anything on you, he took actions into his own hands. "Hold on."

Diluc hoisted you into his arms, made sure you rolled into him as he carried you swiftly back toward the bar. With every groan and whimper he became more concerned. His muscles tensed when your fingers weakly grasped his clothes. Even though it made you whine, he held you closer to him and picked up the pace.

There were only a few sounds in this world that made his heart stop.

He took no time carrying you up the stairs to the third-floor apartment he used on nights he didn't want to make the long walk back to the Winery. As he passed by the confused, and rightfully worried Charles, word was already on its way to the church to bring a healer.

--

You were so hot. Your back hurt to the point you wished someone would rip it from you. Every breath was agonizing but you couldn't convince yourself to stop breathing.

You felt somewhere between dead and alive, and though you didn't understand it, you found yourself in a bed you didn't recognize, in a room you'd never been in before.

The shapes came and went. A halo of light bloomed in the corner. You coughed, pulled back the sheets but froze when a figure now stood where the halo once was.

"Who --"

"Don't get up," a voice, a familiar voice said. The figure moved closer to you. You tried to lift your hands in defense but they were weak and in your uncoordinated move, you slipped from the sheets. "I got you," the voice comforted you. Gentle words that floated into your ear. Something sturdy and wrapped around your stomach.

The figure, which smelled like barrels of sweetened fruit, carefully helped you back into the bed. Strands of red filled your senses and brushed against your cheek. Kind fingers caressed your jaw as they slipped to the back of your neck and eased you onto your back.

"Try to rest. I've called on a healer." The figure spoke, their deep voice like the rustle of leaves in the morning sun. "You're safe. I've got you," they said like a mantra as their fingers soothed your weary eyes closed. "I've got you."

The warmth of their touch against your skin was soothing, but suddenly it was gone and you cried out, reached out your hand to find it again. "Don't go," you pleaded.

Their touch returned to your fingertips, then your palm as they took your shaking hand in theirs. "I'm right here," the voice soothed and let you hold your captured treasure close to your parted lips.

You found it strange that your sickness would concoct such a vivid and realistic specter in the shape of the man who held your heart.

--

Thoma

"Hah, not a problem," Thoma waved them off for the third time. "It really wasn't that difficult. So don't worry about it." He took another step back and let out a playful laugh even as the person bowed for the tenth time in front of him.

Eventually, after many more reassurances, he managed to be on his way and - surprisingly - was only ten minutes behind schedule. With speed, and restraining himself to only courteous waves and passing smiles, he hastily walked down the busy Inzuma streets. To save himself more time, he dipped into a less traveled alleyway and doubled his pace.

It wasn't uncommon to see random and sometimes unsightly scenes in the back alleys. Inazuma was safe, but it wasn't immune to crime. So, as he spied a figure hunched over a stack of crates, he debated if the person looked like they did, or didn't, belong there. When he got closer, he started to recognize bits a pieces of the blurry figure.

"What are you doing back here?" he asked, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips and growing with each second. When you didn't answer him, and he saw you stumble away from the crates and fall to the ground, his joy shifted to fear.

He swore he'd never run so fast in his life.

When you didn't answer him, or react to your name, he wasted no time in lifting you from the dirty, cold ground and into his arms. He wasn't far from the estate, but he also wasn't close. Normally you had a bag - one he remembered because you'd purchased it with him the last time the two of you went to the markets - but right now you were empty handed. Something was clearly wrong.

With you in his arms, Thoma rushed through the alley. His heart raced at the sound of your labored breathing, at the way your face scrunched with every jostle of his movements, at the trembling hand that gripped his clothes.

"Hold on," he soothed, "Just hold on." Thoma burst through the alley and ran through the crowded streets toward the Kamisato Estate.

--

Something cold touched your forehead and you let out a gasp at the contact. Instinctually, you tried to push it away with weak hands.

"I know its cold," a voice said. A comforting, familiar voice that called to your heart. Whoever it was took your hand and caressed your skin with a gentle thumb. "You have a fever, this will help."

You groaned, tried to open your eyes but found it hard. Your body ached and though you didn't want it to, it moved uncomfortably under plush sheets.

After a while the covering over your eyes lifted and you heard the sound of water falling. Turning your head, you pried open your burning eyes to capture blurry and unusual shapes. Your heart raced as you tried to figure out where you were, but the longer it took, the more concerned you were.

"I ha --- to go," you tried to push yourself up but swift footsteps met you before you could.

"Easy, you're sick. You need your rest."

Why was this voice so familiar?

You looked up, even though the action made your head throb. Squinting your eyes, the blob of yellow and red in front of you started to take shape.

"T-Thoma?"

The blob made a smile and pushed strands of your hair out of your face. "It's me," he reassured you, his hand cupping your cheek. Like someone who opened up a door to a dark room, his contact breathed new life into you.

He caught you You fell into him He ease you to rest You were finally at ease

"You found me," you said weakly with a thankful smile. His hand brushed the top of your head and the cold returned but, this time, it felt soothing, refreshing.

"I always do," he hummed and soon your uneasy breaths slowed and faded into healing slumber.