#I have a splitting headache and my stomach hurts | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

leqonsluv3r · 1 month

Note

hi! hope you’re doing well <3 so this past months i have been feeling really bad and going to the doctor he said one of the possibilities would be cancer (im scared as fuck) so could you write some hcs about how leon would deal with it? i guess im just searching for some comfort since im a little scared lol i love your write hope you have a great day <3

trepidation

—leon!kennedy x reader, a headcanon list

masterlist taglist

an: i’m so sorry anon, i really hope it isn’t cancer. i did my best with this one and it took priority because it struck a chord with me. you can imagine whatever leon you desire, i used re!2 for aesthetic purposes. pls let me know the results anon, praying for ya <333

leon!kennedy who does his best to make sure your comfortable all the time, everyday, wakes you up with breakfast in bed and some pain meds for your headaches.

leon!kennedy who puts on a brave face when you feel ill and you don’t know the cause. your scared and so is he, he’s trying his best to be strong for you.

leon!kennedy who admires your strength these days. that even when you feel like your lowest because of your pain and illness that your still smiling and trying your best to laugh. he loves that about you.

leon!kennedy who sees you have a good day, one out of the few you’ve had in this month. he sees you read, laugh at a tv show your watching with him. he even lets you kiss him a little because he knows your having a good day. and he wants everyday to be like this.

leon!kennedy who is rubbing your feet at the foot of the bed, watching you try and find joy in the book your reading. you have good days and bad days now, today was in the middle. it was filled with a little bit of hurt but also a little relief.

leon!kennedy who presses kisses to your head while your curled up next to him, hand resting on his chest as you slept. as you got a reprieve from the hurt that drowned and consumed your body. these little moments with you were precious to him, happy he could give you some reprieve from everything. he was glad to be that for you.

leon!kennedy who watches tv with you, you don’t feel like going out these days, the unknown sickness of your body was worrying him. but he was determined to be strong for you still, because that’s what you needed. you needed support.

leon!kennedy who makes you some lunch and rubs your back as you eat, trying desperately to stomach some food and try your best not to feel ill. your doing your best to be strong for him too, even if it kills you.

leon!kennedy who runs you a bath each evening, letting you both relax into each other in the tub. your body soaking in the hot bubbles and water, letting him rub soothing circles on any part of your body that he can. he knows he can only take away so much and he’s hoping that it’s enough for you.

leon!kennedy who wash’s your hair and scrubs and massages your scalp with such care, trying to ease some of the hurt your feeling. trying to do anything he can to make you feel better.

leon!kennedy who drives you around, gets you out of the house. he wants you to have a little bit of normalcy even if you feel ill all the time. he drives you to the bookstore, to a nice cafè and even to a park. he wants you to feel like your world is okay, that your safe and happy. only if it’s for a little bit.

leon!kennedy who tries not to notice how weak your becoming, who holds your hand when you feel pain and feel sick. when your joints ache and you have splitting headaches that caused you to cry and soak your face with tears. he just holds your hand, holds you, he can’t bare to see you like this but he loves you. so he’s going to stay even if it makes his heart ache.

leon!kennedy who takes you to the doctor after you finally give in. he doesn’t want you to be scared so he whispers reassurances into your ear even if he doesn’t entirely believe them. he just wants you to feel better.

leon!kennedy who sits with you in the waiting room, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, holding your hand tight as you both wait for the doctor to come out.

leon!kennedy who walks close to you, still holding your hand and making sure your okay, trying to soothe your nerves with just a simple touch. even if he wishes he could take it all away just like that.

leon!kennedy who comes into the doctors patient room with you. who lets the doctor run a couple procedures and asks you about how your feeling. asks what’s been happening and whatever you don’t remember, he’s happy to help and fill in. he wishes he could take the pain away, the pain you dealt with.

leon!kennedy who listens as the doctor tells you that it could possibly be cancer. that you could have it, he doesn’t miss the way you squeeze his hand tighter at the doctors words or how you have water in your eyes. and now he really wishes he could take that pain away, because you didn’t deserve this. you didn’t deserve a single bit of it.

leon!kennedy who after the doctors appointment holds your hand, holding it over the console of the car as he drives. he keeps looking over at you every few seconds. your eyes still red and watering a little as if your trying to hold them back. this is killing you, all of it is and you don’t deserve it. he knows that, his own eyes water a bit as he drives.

leon!kennedy who lets you cry into his chest and holds you on the bed, letting you wrap your body around his. he holds you close, he gives you comfort and love, his own reassuring words that he’s trying to desperately to believe and grapple onto.

leon!kennedy who wiped your tears away and presses kisses to your head, your cheek as he kisses some tears away. he presses a kiss to your lips, soft and loving. he keeps you close, he holds you. because no matter what, he would hold you. cancer or no cancer. he was there for you. and he’d never go away, not ever.

an: i love you all. pls reblog if u feel like it, like and my taglist is linked above at the beginning. i hope this brought comfort to you anon, thank you for asking this of me. i hope it didn’t disappoint. im honored you came to me for this. we always need a leon when times are tough, and i hope this helped.

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bsxcrxts · 10 months

Text

comfort

Luke Skywalker x fem!reader

MINORS DNI. AGE IN BIO TO INTERACT WITH MY WORKS.

word count: 5.4k longest oneshot I've ever written whoops

Contains: Luke being sad and hurt, mentions of blood and bruising (not in detail), reunion between reader and Luke post-Dagobah training and Cloud City duel, angst just due to the whole situation in general, a whole lot of tension, blowjobs, inappropriate use of the force, unprotected sex (don't do this irl unless you want a baby idk what to say), somewhat subby/needy Luke, he's pathetic. a wet cat of a man in this and I love him

A/N : This is self-indulgent, soft, nasty, and probably poorly researched. Reader's not a nurse or a doctor, just a concerned gal with a crush, and Star Wars medicine is made up anyway. I have no idea why she's on the Falcon at this point but fuck it, we ball!

You find yourself trailing after Luke in an effort to get him to rest; whatever the hell he just went through in Cloud City initially had him almost feverish, tossing around on the cot in your little makeshift medbay and muttering about things you didn't understand, things about Ben and lies and Vader. But when he sensed the latter, he shot out of bed and right back into the cockpit of the Falcon, open wounds be damned, apparently.

He just doesn't quit, you thought to yourself, momentarily enamored with his strength and somewhat miffed he's left, but then your stomach sank as you also realize you don't even know how bad the rest of his injuries even are.

You and Leia had managed to fit him with the stabilizer on his right arm before she had to excuse herself to help navigate the Falcon away from the Imperial Fleet, and you didn't get much further on assessing Luke before he snapped out of whatever fervor he'd been in and followed her. You didn't run after him, too busy trying to scour the pitiful excuse of a medkit on the Falcon for more supplies and knowing it would be a lost cause anyway– he can be incredibly headstrong when it comes to helping his friends. But you've made the jump to hyperspace now, you've felt the engines shift. It should be safe, and you're pretty sure he should really, really rest.

Creeping into the cockpit of the Falcon, you see Luke slumped in one of the second-row seats, clutching a blanket around himself. He's not speaking in hushed tones to himself anymore, but in the blue light of hyperspace, his eyes look so tired. You lay a gentle hand on his shoulder.

It's not the first time you've touched him in months, but it feels like it is– you had cradled him in your arms for a moment when Leia ushered him into the room for the first time a half an hour ago, but Luke wasn't focused then, and he definitely wasn't well enough to hold conversation with you. And the last time you saw him before today was many moons ago, before he left to become a Jedi.

Luke's face snaps up to yours. Your hand is warm and welcoming on his arm, and he wants more than anything to lean into your touch, but he still feels uneasy, like he's unsure if that would be okay with you, for some reason. The recent revelations about his parentage have left him uncomfortable with himself, even if you don't know yet. If you'll ever know.

Meanwhile, your eyes rake over his features. His lip is split and he has a gash and an impact mark across his cheekbone just under his left eye. The reunion between the two of you is soured by defeat and injury, but despite yourself, when he gazes up at you, part of you insists he looks good. Really good. You linger too long on the cut on his mouth before you force yourself to snap out of it.

"Hey," you whisper. For some reason, you're embarrassed. You haven't spoken to him in a long time.

Luke has the audacity to crack a tiny smile up at you from where he's sitting, just for a moment. He breathes out your name and leans his head against your side where you're standing next to him.

"I have a headache," he says, more like he's thinking out loud than anything. It's an excuse he's made for himself to lay against you even for the briefest time, but it's also true. His head pounds.

Luke pulls away and lifts his face back up to look at you again. There's an emotion that you've never seen before behind his eyes. "Sorry," he says quietly, like it's an afterthought. Only he seems to know why he's apologizing.

"You should go lay down again. I-I can help you with the rest of your injuries and you can rest," you say.

"You’re right," Luke sighs, and stands up shakily. He doesn't stumble, but you put a steadying hand on his back anyway, just to remind him that you're there.

The short walk back to his cot is silent. It's awkward. You know you shouldn't ask about what happened, that Luke will tell you when he's ready, but you don't know what else to say, so you say nothing.

When you do start speaking, your words just sort of tumble out. You're talking to fill the space. Luke has never been this quiet before.

"Here," you gesture, "sit on the edge of the bed. I know I said you could lay down, but I'm worried you're concussed, so maybe you shouldn't fall asleep. You said you have a headache. Do you think you have a concussion?" you ask, as if he'd know.

For his part, Luke just shakes his head at you. "I'll be alright," he insists. He doesn't know if he believes it, but he can't think of anything else to tell you to make you feel better.

Right, you think. Stubborn. Luke occasionally has a sense of over-confidence about himself, you've seen it when he talks about piloting or whatnot, and he's never been wrong about his limits, just cocky, but this time it seems almost put-on, like a show. You let it slide.

"I know," you say, and softly smile at him. When he halfheartedly returns your smile, it pulls on the cut on his lip, and you remember why you're here.

You retrieve a wet cloth and start dabbing at the sticky, tacky blood decorating his face. You take his chin in your other hand, and Luke closes his eyes while you wipe at the near-dried blood. His eyebrows knit when you get too close to a bruise, but he doesn't outwardly complain, and you move on swiftly.

Your heart is beating far too quickly given Luke's condition. He is seriously injured, and clearly went through something not only physically horrible but also mentally taxing back in Cloud City, but he's gorgeous right now.

The way his hair is parted and tousled reminds you of what he's looked like in the past, under much more pleasant circumstances. You don't know what you are to Luke; you have an absolute raging crush on him and he obviously likes you too, but he leaves to go off on his own. A lot. The two of you never talk about it. If you acted on your arousal, it actually wouldn't be the first time you'd have slept with him after he narrowly escaped death, but this feels... different.

Luke breathes out a little sigh as you glide the cloth across his cheekbone. Your stomach ties itself in knots, and you freeze.

He notices that you've paused your ministrations and opens his eyes, looking up at you expectantly. His eyes are the clearest you've seen from him today, and just as blue as always. You panic a bit, hoping he can't perceive your inappropriately-timed desire.

"I need to grab some bacta," you mutter, and remove your hand from his chin.

This time when you return, he keeps his eyes open.

Luke can sense something from you, but he isn't sure what. His relationship with the Force isn't in the best shape, but he knows you've been thinking very hard about something and he's almost afraid to find out what.

“You must be sick of taking care of me," Luke ventures as you carefully apply the bacta gel to a cut on his forehead. "Ever since you got to know me, I just keep getting hurt.”

He says it in that tone he uses when he's making a dry joke that isn't a joke at all.

“Hey, I’ll always help clean you up," you reassure.

"At least both sides of my face will be even now," he continues, referring to the scarring on his left side from the Wampa attack earlier that year.

"You look– you look good," you stutter out, finding yourself shy again. Luke doesn't even take the compliment before he keeps going.

“You’re not put-off?”

“By what?”

It's quiet. Luke doesn't answer. You realize he's talking about the fact he lost his hand in the battle. You sink down to sit next to him, forgotten bacta pack dropped to the floor.

"Luke, no, I don't think–"

“He said some things about me…" Luke trails off, and you know the unnamed he in that sentence means Vader. "I’m worried I’ll turn out like him. That I’ll fall to the dark side. But I can’t stand by and do nothing, I can’t,” he insists, passionate.

“You’re not like him."

Luke looks down at his feet, unconvinced.

You lean over and kiss his cheek, meaning to comfort him, watching a blush spread over his features.

"You're not him, okay?" you reaffirm, face feeling heated. Your hands slide over his arm and down his back in a reassuring motion. You intended to pull away to get more bacta, but Luke leans into you.

"Can I–?" he asks softly. You nod, and he catches your mouth in another kiss.

He's overeager, teeth clacking against yours as he licks into your mouth and tries to get as close to you as bodily possible. In contrast, you try to stay gentle, refusing to even playfully nip at him like you otherwise might. The gash on his upper lip splits open anyway, sending him a shock of pain that should stop his motions, but he just groans into your mouth and keeps kissing you.

"You're bleeding!" you exclaim as taste blood and break away from him.

"S'okay," Luke whines, protesting your concern. It's evident how much he doesn't want to stop; he follows you as you pull away, tilting forward. You ignore the rush of arousal flooding your system at his shameless display and grab a bit of gauze and press it to the scrape.

"Look, it's fine. See?" Luke asserts when there's hardly even a few drops of his blood on the cloth as you remove it. Obviously vying to kiss you again.

It's hard to resist him and his pleading puppy-like eyes. You press a quick peck to his forehead.

"Hold still," you say, "I need to put a bit of bacta on that so it heals." It's the justification you're using, because if he keeps kissing you, you're going to lose control and the little scrape will never heal. Luke decides to give in to you as the voice of reason.

"There," you state when you've finished with his face. "Now..." you trail off, eyeing the gashes through the fabric of his fatigues and once again feeling bizarrely nervous, "You should. You should take your shirt off next."

"Right," he sighs, feeling unsure. He reaches up with his left hand and starts undoing the fastens on his shirt.

"I could help you?" you offer softly.

"Sure," he nods.

You gently help him out of his shirt, careful of the cut in his upper left arm and scrape across his elbow that tore through even the fabric of the shirt. The shirt is falling apart, burned in places and ripped in others, and you sort of drop the fabric off to the side, unsure if it's salvageable.

When you look back up, the breath feels like it's been punched out of you.

Luke was always lean, a scrappy sort of muscular but this is new. You remind yourself you haven't seen him in months and that he's been off doing stars-know-what during his Jedi training. Behind the bruises and scrapes, he's built a bit of muscle, more defined than last time. Your eyes dart across his body; his arms alone have you biting your lip, feeling more butterflies in your stomach than ever before.

Luke catches you looking at him, catches you eyeing him up and down like you'd like to devour him, and he just gazes back at you. The blush on his cheeks from earlier never went away.

You convince yourself to slow down and wipe the dried blood off his arms and torso. There's no way to avoid how close the two of you are; you've practically wormed your way into standing between his legs as you dab bacta on the cuts and bruises that litter his midsection. Shamefully, you think about how good he smells, sweat be damned.

Luke audibly groans when you slide your hand across his shoulders in preparation to hold his arm up while you apply the medical salve. Your fingers dig slightly in to his sore musculature and he can't hold back.

"Sorry," you choke out, "want me to stop?"

"Mm-mm. Feels good, actually."

You feel another crack in your resolve form as you slather bacta along his cuts and bruises.

Luke is far enough gone himself, and you try not to notice. His breathing rate increased the second you started touching him, and he knows a hard-on would be ill-timed right now, but he kind of doesn't care that he can feel a tent beginning to form in his pants. It's a welcome distraction from the absolute shit day he's had, and he really, really missed you. The feeling of your hands on his body is unparalleled, so welcome and warm.

The logical choice of waiting even a day in order to prevent his wounds from re-opening is losing appeal for him.

You, however, continue to grasp onto logic. Not meeting his eyes as you finish applying the bacta, you step away from him and turn to fiddle with the medkit.

“Okay, I think it's alright for you to lay down now. I’ll go so you can rest," you say. You don't want to leave him, but it's the responsible thing. You'll go lay in your own bunk and mind your own business. He's hurt, he needs repose, he–

“Don’t go.”

Not turning around, you go to answer. “Luke, you need—"

“I need you,” Luke insists, desperately. He reaches out and grabs your wrist lightly, like he moved without thinking.

It's very calculated, however, when you turn around and he raises your hand to his cheek and plants a kiss on the palm of your hand.

"Please?" he breathes, eyes wide, looking up at you and begging. His hand hasn't left yours where it rests on the side of his face.

“Oh, baby,” you sigh adoringly, your heartbeat in your throat and your determination to let him alone long gone as you return to stand in between his spread legs. You'd normally settle down on his thighs and grind against him, where you know Luke likes you best, but right now you're sure to be gentle as you can. You're a bit worried about whatever unknown bruising could be beneath the pants he didn't even get off before he couldn't resist you anymore.

“Kriff, it’s been so long. Missed you,” Luke mutters against your mouth between kisses.

"Yeah?" you ask, losing the brain capacity to answer coherently as Luke buries his face in the crook of your shoulder and sucks a kiss into the juncture of your skin.

Any gentle peck you try to give Luke turns dirty as he doubles down in passion every time, almost refusing to let any kiss end until the two of you are gasping for air. He's desperate to touch you, and yes, your hands are cradling his face and he loves it, but you're still somewhat leaning away from him, standing over him as he sits in front of you. He wants.

It's accidental, what happens next. You feel a sudden pressure against your lower back that nudges at you until you tip forward, catching yourself just inches before you would have fallen against Luke, your knee coming to rest in between the junction of his legs. In your new position, he immediately grinds his hard cock on your thigh, the drag of his sizeable length suddenly against you. It's accidental, but it's what he needs.

You break the kiss and gasp. The Falcon hasn't shifted out of hyperspace and you're not off-balance.

"Baby?" you inquire, the question unspoken. Did you just use the Force to move me? Many of Luke's abilities are new. If it was him, it was a recent development, at least in your experience.

"'m sorry," Luke whines, "I didn't mean to– I don't know what happened," but even as he says it, he's practically fucking himself against you, the strain of his bulge in his khaki pants borderline painful.

You're too turned on to even admonish him. You wouldn't if you could. You liked it, liked how his growing desire for you was overwhelming him to the point of losing control.

"Need me that bad?" you tease.

You hardly expect a response, but Luke keens and thrusts hard against your leg, his cock aching and his voice catching on a moan. "Ah-h!! Angel, I told you I do," he mewls. The flush on his face is as red as you've ever seen him.

“Let me take care of you,” you coo as you sink down onto the floor. Unable to resist, you shove your nose against Luke's clothed cock, inhaling his scent and mouthing at him over his disgusting khakis.

"Oh that's– you don't have to–" Luke starts, squirming.

"Want to," you answer, kissing and licking at his bulge until the fabric covering him is damp, from his dripping cock or from your mouth, you aren't sure. His dick throbs, straining painfully against his clothing. "Wanna see your pretty cock even more though," you continue.

You don't have to tell him twice. He scrambles to unzip his pants and you help him, pulling his flushed cock from the confines of his underwear. It bobs against his stomach and smears pre-cum across his torso, across his newly-defined abs. Unable to help yourself, you lean up and lick a bit of the pre-spend off of him, which only makes his erection kick and leak more.

You place an open-mouthed kiss to his cock as you move lower, and then take him into your mouth.

"F-fuck! Your mouth, oh, you ffeel s' ohh," Luke exclaims, incoherent when you first take him into your throat, fisting the rest of his cock in your hand as you bob up and down on him. He almost thrashes, hips jerking forward and hand coming to rest in your hair, not pulling just there, a guiding weight that has you moving at an even pace, sucking at the head of his cock and popping off of him every once in a while to kiss the underside or tip of his member and make him writhe underneath you. Your cunt clenches around nothing when he moans or squirms for you.

As you slide your mouth off his cock, a string of saliva still connecting you to his tip, his body jerks. He fucks his cock against your lips and his hips stutter against your mouth, like he can't take one second without you.

"Stars, baby, like my mouth that much?"

"I like all of you that much."

His declaration is unbearably hot, and you reward him by deepthroating him as far as you can take him, throat constricting around him and your eyes watering.

Luke inhales sharply, surprised by your sudden action.

“S-stop.”

“Is something wrong?” you ask, pulling off of him, immediately conscious of his delicate state and concerned he's started bleeding or something like that.

“'m close. Almost came,” Luke admits shyly, looking off to the side and not meeting your eyes. He still isn't quite comfortable with how fast his body finishes with you, even though you've told him several times how much his eagerness and sensitivity turned you on.

“That's the point, right?” you affirm lightly, running a hand up his thigh. "You wanna cum in my mouth?"

Luke looks at you, blushing fiercely. “I don't wanna cum yet at all," he whines, softly guiding you up from your kneeling position on the floor. He kisses you, absolutely claiming your mouth before he nuzzles his face into your neck, "I don't want this to be over," he confesses, and he sounds both desperate and a bit sad.

"Doesn't have to be," you say, settling into a somewhat more dominant role, but keeping your tone is still gentle. He's liked it in the past when you take the lead, so you try it out. "Tell me what you want."

The shift in your attitude has Luke suddenly shameless, pressing himself bodily against you until the two of you can't honestly get any physically closer.

"I wanna be inside you. I-inside your pussy,” he whines.

His words send shockwaves up your spine and you bite your lip, clenching around nothing.

"A-and," he chokes out, rutting against your thigh like he's an animal, "I want you to make me wait."

You won't make him clarify the last part. You're plenty aware that's his way of asking you to edge him, to control his orgasm so he doesn't finish 'too soon', a game you've played before with him, and he's already shy about it. It makes sense right now, especially since you're basically letting him use you like a distraction from the absolute shit day he's had, that he doesn't want this to end.

"Ask me nicely," you urge.

"Please can I fuck your pussy?" Luke gasps.

"Fuck yes, oh my god," you answer, kissing him and shoving your pants and undergarments off and straddling his lap. "Need your fingers first though. C'mere," you grab at his hand and pull his digits along your slit.

Luke almost wants to groan in protest, feeling suddenly very impatient, but he practically chokes as he runs his fingers through your wetness. His eyes roll back in his head when he slips a finger inside of you, shocked at your state of arousal, and you loosely wrap your hand around his dick. He starts grinding against your hand immediately and you know you're going to have to slow him down eventually if he wants to last.

"Shit, u-um," he throws his head back to look up at you. "You're soaked. Just f-from having your mouth on me?" he ventures, feeling like he needs reassurance in this moment for some reason.

“Mm! Been– been getting like this since you started making those cute noises while I was patching you up.”

"Yeah?" Luke is soaking the praise up, working his fingers in and out of you and across your clit with as much focus as he can. He's inexperienced with his left hand, but you'd never guess. Your cunt is dripping around him down to his wrist.

"You make such perfect sounds, baby," you promise him. "Ah-h!" you exclaim when he brushes up against that spot inside you, "fuck, baby, keep going."

Luke nods against you. "Keep talking? Please?" he asks, so sweetly.

"I never get used to how big you are. You have such a pretty cock, Luke. Helping me first so I can even think about taking it."

He sinks two digits to the knuckles into you cunt and presses hard on your g-spot.

"Ohh-!! Baby!" you shout, caught off guard. "You're so good– so good, such a good boy f' me."

"C-close," he whines. He's already that far gone, even from this uncoordinated dry-humping half handjob, face a mess, dick literally twitching in your hand from the praise you're directing at him. You take your hand away from his cock since he asked to be denied. He makes no move to stop his motions on you, so you let him finger you open with his hand and play with you for a while longer.

When he's calmed down a bit and you do sink down onto him, your combined juices make a disgustingly lewd wet noise and you both breathe out moans. There's still a stretch; Luke is bigger than most, and you haven't had anyone since he left. You haven't had anyone else since the first time with him, at all.

“I-I was bad," Luke suddenly states as you work to take his length inside your dripping core. Any position takes work to fit his cock in your cunt, but riding him takes the most.

“Oh honey, no, you feel amazing for me,” you reassure, both remembering his insecurity earlier and thinking about how full his cock is making you feel.

“Nno I– don't mean. I mean..." he breathes and pauses, "I thought about you whi-while I was training. I wasn’t supposed to."

"What do you mean?" you ask gently.

"Not 'posed to have attachments. Feelings," Luke gasps, thrusting up once into your soaked cunt before his hips settle into a slow grind. He's toying with the edge of your shirt that you forgot to take off earlier, running his hand tentatively under the seam. He's shy, not meeting your eyes again even though he's literally inside you right now. In a way, you understand that he's confessing something very secret to you and you're reeling a bit.

'Missed you," he says earnestly for the second time this evening when you don't say anything back right away. His gaze finally lands on yours and something is electric in the air. He's practically given you his love confession several times in the last hour but this feels different.

"I don't think that's bad," you say, barely above a whisper. "Not at all. I missed you too," you kiss him again, rolling your hips.

And then, “What’d you think about?” because you can't resist.

Luke's hips go back to a stuttering pace, alternating between grinding up into you and the occasional rogue thrust, like he's holding himself back.

"Uh-uhm," he falters, fighting self-consciousness at sharing his fantasies, but the words start spilling out of his mouth anyway, "The way you smile at me when you're f-flirting. What it feels like to kiss you. A-and I thought about your hands and what they feel like on me. When you hold me, or... or when they're wrapped around- ugh m-my cock."

You gasp, but Luke continues without pause.

"How I wanna fuck you slow in bed in the morning. I'll be good. I-I can make it good f' you. Worth waking up early for," he promises. It's startlingly domestic, but before you can linger on it, he keeps going. "Missed your– haa, ah, your pretty tits, too."

"What about them?"

"How gorgeous they are. How you look when you don't wear a bra. C-can't look away."

"You wanna see?" you ask, surprised he hasn't asked you to take your shirt off earlier.

Luke whines, eyes hooded as he nods. "Please."

You practically throw your shirt off and unclasp your bra in record time.

You shift, pushing your chest towards him where he sits, as a desire to give him everything he's ever wanted burns inside of you. He deserves it. He's supposed to have been solely concentrated on learning to be a Jedi– and he clearly has been training– but on top of it, all he's admitting to focusing on not only just some ancient mystic wisdom but also on you, too. You think you love him.

You run your fingers across the nape of his neck and pull on his golden locks, guiding him towards your tits.

You roll your hips against him, pussy clenching around him as he sucks your nipple into his mouth, rolling the bud over his tongue and moaning with every breath.

"Fuck! D-don't move like that. I-I'll cum. M'gonna cum."

"Want you to," you say, but you stop your motions anyway.

"N-not yet," he chokes out. "You haven't– I want it to be good for you," drooling against your tits.

“Stars, you're so sweet. Look how good you’re being for me right now,” and he is being good. He’s being so good, so considerate, and your pussy involuntarily tightens around him again at the thought.

"O-oh shit, I can't take it, I c-can't fucking take it," Luke voice shakes, and in an impressive show of strength for his current state, he pulls out of you and flips your positions so you're laying on the cot and he rests on his knees between your thighs. He doesn't push back inside you; his cock rests against your clit, and he distracts you by leaning down to kiss you for a moment. It's his way of stalling; you know he needs a moment to hold back from finishing.

Even though it feels nice, the contact is not enough, not when you've had a taste of him inside your walls already, and you let yourself paw needily at him, trying to get him to slip in.

"You're as bad as I am, aren't you?" Luke huffs lightly, amused.

"Yeah," you breathe "I just want you, so bad."

“I– I thought I might've sensed that,” Luke says, almost sounding smug momentarily, happy with your response, "through the Force, but I- I wasn't sure if it was just my own desire," he drops that absolute bombshell on you before he mercifully slips back inside you and sets a rapid pace. Your hands fly above you to brace yourself against the wall of the nook.

"S-shit! Baby! Y-you can hear what I'm thinking?"

Luke groans, dropping his head and trying to formulate a coherent response. "Kind of. It's more like I feel... intentions, if you think really hard about something, I-I can sense–"

Your eyes flutter closed, and the way your cunt tightens around his dick cuts Luke off completely. You're rapidly spiraling towards your own high, his words and his cock wrecking you.

All your energy goes into projecting as much lust as you possibly can at him; you're running through every fantasy you've ever had, every dirty thought about him that's ever crossed your mind in an effort to get him to pick up on your emotions. It works, and Luke has to catch himself with his hand before he collapses on top of you.

"Haah, ahh," he whimpers, "That's- that's- y' feel like that about me?" he asks, his eyes rolling back in his head. He's positively losing control, his hips grinding into yours as he pounds into your pussy.

"Yes," you insist, "god, Luke, you fuck me so good, don't fucking stop."

Luke's cute little whines are coming more frequently, his thrusts more erratic, but he doesn't stop. You know him well enough to know he's not going to be able to hold off much longer, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat and his thighs nearly shaking with effort. Your own high is rapidly approaching.

"Close?" you ask.

"Y-yeah, been close," Luke answers with a bit of humor. “Please let me make you cum first. I just wanna make you cum first,” he cries out, pussydrunk and unable to think of anything other than his and your impending orgasm.

He sits upright again, pulling you in one swift motion by your hips to meet his, then rubs at your clit, circling you. The last inch of his cock slotting into you and the extra stimulation is the only thing you needed to push you over the edge, grinding down on him and yelling his name.

When you come down seconds later, you're met with Luke's gasping moans and begging. He's lost any self control he was able to display before, falling apart in front of you and inside you.

"Ah-haah, fu-fuck, fuck! Gonna cum, am I allowed– can I cum inside you? Please can I cum in you?" he reaches for your hand and intertwines your fingers in his.

"Oh Luke, give it to me, baby, please!"

He groans, accompanied by a nearly incoherent mumbling of your name as he spills inside you, hand squeezing yours. His cock gives a jolt inside of you and the feeling of being filled by his spend makes you topple over the edge again, overstimulated. There's so much of his cum that you feel it drip down your thigh before he even pulls out and you wonder when the last time he let himself cum was at all. He curses and cries out under his breath when you tighten around him a second time, aftershocks still traveling through his body as he collapses next to you in the tiny alcove of the wall.

"Love you," he confesses in a hushed tone as he settles there against you, his face tucked shyly into your shoulder.

"Love you back. You have me," you answer with a quiet confidence. When he looks at you, you see the tiniest pinpricks of tears in his eyes.

"Hey," you run a hand along his back, "it'll be okay."

"Yeah," Luke nods against you. It will be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I don't know how clear I've made it but when I was writing this I was imagining reader and Luke having a sort of on-again-off-again thing (due to the whole Jedi training and extended amounts of time apart) in the past, and that she'd mayyyybe also "comforted" him after Hoth, mayhaps one day I write a prequel to this fic? idk yall know me and following through so no promises lol

#luke skywalker smut #luke skywalker x reader #becca's bs #not proofread #poorly researched and probably poorly written LMFAO #enjoy. this took me so long for no reason #if there’s inconsistency in so sorry

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sarahsmi13s · 6 months

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Mama's Don't Get Sick Days

whumptober day 18: fever / vomiting / warm soup

pairing: mickey 'fanboy' garcia x reader

characters: mickey garcia, wife!reader, genevieve garcia, jayda garcia, sebastian garcia

warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, vomiting, mickey is a dad, parenting while sick, fever, neglecting health, please let me know if I missed any

word count: ~ 2.1k

a/n: this is for whumptober! please please please proceed with caution and use discretion, protect your peace

also if you are on the whump taglist but are not familiar with a character, you can skip it will not hurt my feelings!

whumptober 2023 masterlist

summary: when your a spouse and a parent, sometimes you forget that you can be taken care of as well

You sighed as you sat on the couch. Your head was pounding and your stomach was churning with the whole lot of nothing that was in it.

Running around all morning with three kids, two of them under the age of 5 and one of them was just learning how to walk, was an absolute nightmare with how you were feeling.

Mickey had woken you up with a forehead kiss before going off to work and then your 6 and 4 year old woke you up a little while later with Genevieve crying because she was gonna be late for school.

So, with a splitting headache and sinus pressure, you got her dressed and fed her breakfast before getting all of your kids in the car and taking her to school.

The rest of the day was a blur of chasing Jayda and keeping her occupied and keeping little Sebastian out of things and things out of his mouth.

Jayda was 4 and pretty good at staying out of trouble, but she was still young and had an independent head on her shoulders – so asking for help was never really an option so you had to make sure she wasn’t climbing on things and getting stuck on the closet's top shelf.

Sebastian was 1 and just learning how to walk. So he was getting into anything he reached and if it was on the floor or the table it most likely was going in his mouth.

So, between keeping Jayda on the ground, Sebastian from eating something he shouldn’t, and you not puking every time you bent over or changed a diaper and going through tissues like you were watching the saddest scene 100 times, you were exhausted.

But you had to stay awake even if those two were napping, because you had to pick up Gen from school on time.

“Mama?” Gen asked from her bar stool as you make her after school snack of Goldfish, and her dried mangos that you forgot to pack that morning, and turkey cheese rolls.

You glanced over your shoulder, “What’s up Vieve?” “Are you feeling okay? You look like I feel when I’m feeling icky,” she said, sounding so sweet as she rested her head on the counter. “And I was almost late for school, you always have me up…” “I’m okay baby, just a little frazzled today,” you said before coughing into your arm.

Sniffling, you turned and put the paper plate in front of her, “I’m really sorry about this morning, I should’ve gotten up sooner.” Genevieve took a bite of her turkey cheese roll, “It’s okay I got to school on time.”

You gave her a gentle smile before kissing her head, “Did you have a good day?” She nodded, “I did, Jacie and I played…” You nodded along with her as she proceeded to tell you about her day, listening to her as you took some Cutie slices off of Jayda’s plate and Cheerios off of Sebastian’s tray.

At some point while she was talking you went to check her lunch box to see what she hadn’t eaten.

But as you opened it you were hit with a pungent reminder of what she had for lunch. Tuna and crackers, something her grandmother introduced her to during the last visit.

The smell churned your stomach that last time and anything you managed to actually eat was crawling up your throat.

Covering your mouth, you managed to make it to the downstairs bathroom before falling to your knees and puking in the toilet.

You rested your head on your arm, groaning miserably as you flushed the toilet before regaining your bearings and standing up.

With your head pounding, you wash your hands and swish your mouthwash before going back to the kitchen. “Hey, Jay, Vieve?” You said softly as you got Sebastian out of his high chair. “Yes Mama?” “I’m gonna go sit on the couch, Bash is gonna be in his playpen. Finish your snacks and then you can play okay?”

They both nodded before Genevieve stopped you with a hand on your arm as you walked by, “Are you not feeling well?” You sighed, “No, baby, I’m a little under the weather but don’t you worry, I’m gonna be okay.”

You gave her a gentle smile before going to the living room and putting Sebastian in his playpen. You sighed as you sat down. “Oh lordy… just a few more hours and he’ll be home and I can rest.”

As you curl up under a blanket and move the trash can closer to the couch, you rest your cold hands on your face to try and relieve the pressure in your nose.

You can make out Jayda and Genevieve arguing in the kitchen. “I can take the Sprite to Mama!” “Jay, you can’t reach them in the fridge! Get the crackers!” “I don’t wanna!”

“Girls! Please don’t yell,” you groaned a little from your spot on the couch. “Sorry Mama!”

You sighed and rubbed your head before you heard more loud noises coming from the kitchen and then a little, “Oopsie.”

“What happened?”

“Jayda tried to get a can of Sprite and dropped them…”

Taking a sharp inhale, you look up at the ceiling and let it out before looking at Sebastian, “I’ll be right back Bash. Mama has a mess to clean.” “No! I gots it, Mama! I’ll get a towel,” Jayda said as she ran to the laundry room.

“Okay,” you sighed, at this point it was useless to try and argue. You were tired, you could mop it up later.

“Here Mama, I got you some water,” Genevieve said softly as she brought you a cup. It was over flowing, and you were sure there was a trail of water behind her. But the thought was sweet. “Thank you baby.”

You sipped the water in your glass before sitting it down and leaning back.

“Mama! I brought you crackers!” Jayda shouted, running over with a sleeve of crackers.

You smiled a little, “Thank you Jay.” You reached for them but she held out a hand, “No, I’ll open it!” “Jayda, don’t yell! Mama has a headache!” “Vieve, you’re yelling,” you said gently. “Sorry Mama.”

You looked back to Jayda to see her struggling before ripping it open and spilling crackers on the carpet. “Oops…” She looked up at you and handed you what was left, “Here you go.” “Thank you hun.”

“Why don’t you both go play in your room, Gen. Daddy will be home soon and you can go outside.”

They nodded before running up the stairs.

You sighed and held your head in your hands before sliding to the floor and picking up the crackers and throwing them away.

But your position change made blood rush to your head and triggered your gag reflex. “Shit,” you muttered before gripping the edges of the trash can and just waiting for it. Apparently it was taking its time until you sat up because it all rushed up at once when you did.

Groaning into the trash can, you spat into it before getting up and going back into the bathroom to wash your mouth out again.

You came back into the living room to hear Sebastian crying.

“Oh Bash, Mama left you alone didn’t she. I’m sorry,” you said, picking him up and shushing him gently. “Oh I know baby boy, I’m sorry.”

It took you about 20 minutes of that before he fell asleep in your arms and you laid him down in his playpen.

“There you go, baby.” You sighed and laid down on the couch. “Just an hour, and Mickey will be home…” You cuddled up with a blanket and turned the TV on, “Just need to relax for a little bit.”

Mickey smiled as he walked in, “Hey, guess who’s home?” “Shhhh, Daddy, Mama’s sleeping,” Genevieve hissed from her spot on the carpet.

“Oh,” he winced. “Sorry sorry.”

He put his bag down gently before walking in, seeing tissues on nearly every surface from where you had blown your nose while you chased kids around the house. And then when he got to the living room he noticed the trash can next to the couch.

The girls were coloring in the living room, having come down to watch TV just before Mickey got home, and Sebastian was still napping.

He sighed and went over to you, glancing to see the vomit in the trash can. He knelt down, feeling the saltines break under his weight.

“Hey, baby?” Mickey gently shook your shoulder, putting the inside of his wrist to your forehead, “Shit… you’re burning up.” He patted your face, “Hey honey.”

You groaned a little as your eyes fluttered open, “Hey, Mick…”

“How long have you been like this?”

“What do you mean?”

He arched his brow, “Um, you’re cuddled up on the couch burning up and sweating like I do on the tarmac? Honey, have you felt icky all day?” He censored himself, remembering little ears were in ear shot.

“I um,” you said sniffling as you sat up. Mickey watched you close your eyes and groan as you steadied yourself and he frowned. “Sweetheart…” “I’m okay Mick, just a little-”

Your sentence got interrupted by a sudden rush of sick. “Trash can…” Mickey didn’t even question it and held the trash can up, holding your hair back with his free hand.

“I got you baby, I got ya.”

“Daddy? Is Mama okay?” Jayda asked, a little worry in her voice. “Yeah, Mama’s gonna be okay. She’s just not feeling well, but she’s okay.” Jayda nodded and quietly went back to coloring.

Once you’re done throwing up, Mickey helps you stand. “Girls, Mama and I will be right back, be good okay?” “Yes Daddy,” they both said as they continued to color.

Mickey helped you to the bathroom and sat you on the closed toilet as he looked for the thermometer. “Have you felt bad all day?” You opened your mouth but he spoke again. “And don’t lie to me.”

You sighed and nodded as he held the thermometer up and put it in your mouth.

“You’ve felt shitty all day?” You nodded again as the thermometer beeped and he took it out to look at it. “101.3, fuck, Honey. Why didn’t you call me? I would have come home. Mav would under-”

“That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want to take you away from work.” “Screw work, you’re sick and you took care of three kids by yourself. Honey, you’re exhausted and you won’t get better if you don’t let yourself rest.”

You shook your head before groaning a little at the headache the action gave you, “Miguel, you can’t-” You blinked as you stopped mid sentence, your lips trembling as you felt sick again. Covering your mouth, you moved to the floor and lifted the lid to throw up in the toilet.

Mickey frowned, feeling awful for not being here today and leaving you to deal with the kids while you miserable. He squatted down and grabbed a ponytail holder, tying your hair back for you, “I’m calling Cyclone and Mav, I’m not going in tomorrow so I can take care of you and the kids.”

“I can’t ask you to do that… You love your job.”

He looked up at you, almost angry, “Not as much as I love you. And you’re not asking, that’s the reason I’m telling you that I’m not going in.”

You stayed quiet and just shook your head, trying not to get sick again, “I need to make dinner…” He shook his head right back, “You’re not serious, you’re actively trying not to throw up again. Y/N, you need to go lay down with a cold rag on your head. I’ll fix dinner for me and the kids and you get soup.”

You perked up a little, sitting up and looking at him, “Your abuela’s soup?”

He smiled and cupped your cheek, “If that’s what you want then that’s what I’ll make. But only if you take a break and let me baby you until you're better.” “But the kids-” “What did I say?”

You sighed, “Okay, okay fine.”

“Alright now, let’s get you on the couch and I will get any mess left by our girls.”

You nodded and let him take you back to the couch before he got you a cool, damp rag.

“There you go Honey,” he said, laying it across your forehead. “Thank you Mickey. I love you.” “I love you too.”

You smiled at him, “Go start dinner so I can have abuela’s soup, go go.” He chuckled, “Alright, alright.” He kissed the top of your head before going to the kitchen.

“Hey! Who spilled Sprite all over the floor?”

taglist: @bradleybeachbabe @mayhemmanaged @kmc1989 @lovinglyeternal @horseshoegirl @cassiemitchell @fanboyswhore9 @nightowlalltheway @86laura11 @els-marvelvsp @valmare @startrekfangirl2233

hi, if you're seeing this and are currently not on the taglist and would like to be please fill out the taglist form -> whumptober taglist

i can not stress this enough, but whumptober can have some very serious and heavy topics and i want to make sure i am doing my part as an author to prepare my readers for what they are about to experience and that includes not only warnings above but my taglists as well

so if you want to be added check out the masterlist and read that carefully and fill out the form -> whumptober 2023

#vinny's whumptober #vinny's rainy day records #ailesswhumptober2023 #whumptober 2023 #whumptober #whumptober day 18 #top gun maverick #top gun #mickey fanboy garcia imagine #mickey fanboy garcia x reader #mickey fanboy garcia #mickey garcia #whump #angst #tw: vomit #sarahsmi13s

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spdrvyn · 13 days

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ikaw at ikaw (short drabble) — in where miguel helps you calm down from a horrible migraine, with many experiences and remedies under his belt.

miguel had noticed it since way earlier in the morning. the slight wobble in your step and the way you kept furiously rubbing at your forehead, but in typical you fashion, you shut down any attempts he made at checking in on you. he tried his best to get you to opt out of this mission, but you were too persistent, and too pretty to dismiss. you really were going to be the death of him.

trust me when i say that he tried, many, many times to get you to take a break. he was really starting to worry if he had a bad influence on you, is this what you felt like when you told him to stop overworking himself? by god, it was horrible.

so when you come back on the verge of passing out, miguel doesn't whip out any 'i told you so's or any condescending remarks. he is escorting you to the nearest couch, safe in his office where it's dark and quiet.

this wasn't the first time that he'd dealt with migraines before, his hypersensitive senses had induced so many nauseous and dizzy nights for him so obviously he came equipped just in case he or anyone else had ever experienced it too.

painkillers, hot tea, hot or cold compress, sleep mask, soft pillow, and blanket. complete sensory deprivation.

"being so nice to me, migs..." you spoke, delirium clouding your voice as the medicines had begun to kick in. the sleep mask was half draped over one of your eyes, the blanket tucked up all the way to your neck. "love it when you take care of me,"

"no necesitas darme las gracias, corazón." he presses his hand to your forehead, your body temperature was consistent throughout the day which meant that this wasn't predetermining a fever to his fortune. "i told you to rest so many times, but you didn't listen to me."

"i'm sorry," you whine, reaching out to rub his forearm apologetically. "i didn't want to miss work, i thought it was just another headache."

he stops your gesture and cups your hand, his engulfing yours. "i'd let you miss work over a stomach ache, you know that, right?" he squeezes your hand. "i already let you have, multiple times actually."

"that's why i stayed," you groan, "i felt guilty because- it seemed unfair. i didn't want special treatment because we're, you know... we're–" you make a kiss-y gesture with both of your hands and miguel has to bite back a smile.

"uh huh."

"you know what i mean!" you flop your hands down in defeat, "what if people notice that you favor me over them? ... you do favor me over them?"

"of course, i do. but you're not getting special treatment." he explains bluntly, "i wouldn't let you just walk off a splitting migraine—"

"you let peter walk off that one time he busted his knee."

"walk him off to the infirmary, sweetheart." he rests his elbow on the arm rest of the sofa, laying his head on his fist. "i'm not that mean. if anyone's hurt, they need to be checked. whether it's a broken rib or chest pains, that includes you too."

you look up at him with so much admiration. maybe he did just say that you're not getting any special treatment despite being all kissy kissy with him, but still. the compassion that he holds towards each spider is underappreciated, and you're lucky that you're the only one seeing this side of him.

"... but, you're giving me all of your stuff to help with my migraine. isn't that special treatment?"

he smiles before planting a very brief kiss on your lips, "that's a secret."

guess who had a really bad migraine today... this guy....

#spiderman: across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #atsv #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader

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turtledovenycx · 5 months

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𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞-𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐲 (𝐅.𝐋) 𝟐

🎧Because (Changbin and Felix) - STRAY KIDS

🎧we fell in love in October - girl in red

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐅𝐖/ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖

𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬: 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏| 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐| 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐬𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫!𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐓𝐚𝐠: 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

⁀➴ 𝐖.𝐜 𝟒.𝟐𝐤

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⚠️: 𝐚𝐚𝐚𝐚𝐚𝐡! 𝐬𝐡𝐡𝐡! 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐥

“Which flavor?” Felix asked opening the big freezer with different varieties of Ice cream and cold desserts.

After your breakdown Felix convinced you to get ice cream together, trying to be as assuring as he could, smiling softly and taking your hand as the two of you walked to the store.

“Mango,” you say softly as he picks two mango bars and goes to the register.

The evening was cool the wind tickled your red nose making you sniff as you waited for him outside.

“Here you go,” he said pushing the treat into your hands. Silently you opened the pack. The sweetness melting in your mouth, and your headache fading.

Looking back you saw Felix sitting on the footpath his knees bent. He looked up at you and patted the spot next to him. Following him you placed your feet similarly and the two of you ate in silence.

“Want to talk?” he asked, you shook your head 'no' unable to form your feelings into words. He deflated a bit, he really wanted you to speak to him, and tell him your worries but he did not want to force it out. Felix's ears perked as he heard you speak up.

“I broke Minho’s board,” you say softly.

“Is that why you were crying?” he asked eyes trained on yours as you looked down like a scolded child. You nodded, feeling bad again until you heard soft giggles. Felix laughed in a way that made you feel silly, a good silly. He was not mocking you this dude genuinely found you funny ... and cute.

“Oh you’re so cute, don't cry. Hyung does not skate anymore pretty.” the pet name made your stomach flip as you willed your face to stay as calm as it could.

“He won’t mind it was an old board too, I promise, it's not a big deal,” Felix reassured before collecting the waste wrappers. He turned around to see you look up at him.

“Let me walk you home,” he says grabbing his board tucking it in his arms, and waiting for you to catch up.

The community was almost asleep, everyone in the comfort of their homes, lights slowly shutting off on different floors of the buildings as you and Felix make your way to yours.

“My parents fight a lot.” you blurted out, the two of you stopped in your tracks. “The night when you found me crying I had run away. They can get really mean,” you explain not looking at him. “I- I did not break it... My dad broke the board…. He was angry and it all happened so quickly that I could not stop him. Just like I can’t stop them from fighting...... I'm sorry.” arms wrap around you once again hesitantly. Felix brought you into his embrace once more.

“Hey, it's okay. It's okay hmm? Does he hurt yo-” he asked feeling protective of you

“Oh god no, they just say stuff,” you say, scared to talk too much.

"What made him so angry?"

"He- I came home late? I'm not sure. He got so angry when I told him I skate now." you sniffled remembering your dad call your friends junkies, what if he stopped you from coming here?

“I love skateboarding, I don’t want to stop. I love it, I love hanging out with you guys.” tears slipped through your eyes again.

“You don’t have to stop. Ever. In fact, I'll come to pick you up every day... I mean.. if you want that?” Felix whispered a little embarrassed at his final statement, even though the two of you were standing in a space with no one in sight. You let out a breathy chuckle, "No, it's okay."

At his assurance you felt better, you looked up to see his eyes on you, the space between the two of you almost negligible.

For a split second his eyes fell onto your parted lips before quickly turning to release you from his hold. He missed the soft color on your cheeks, your face feeling warm despite the breeze.

“Are you okay now?” he asks looking back to see your building, lights on in your apartment.

“Yeah, I should go home before…” you say you did not wish to leave. not wanting to leave him, he walked you to your balcony.

“I’m gonna go in.” but before you could climb over the small gate he held your hand.

“Lemme take this,” he said gently removing the bag from your grasp with the broken board. "I'll give it to Hyung."

“Please, tell Minho I’m sorry, I can pay him back... I can-”

“Shh, it’s okay. I told you he won’t mind. Hyung has a new board he barely skates. Don’t worry about it okay?” he smiled, bringing a small smile to your face too. You climbed the fence and looked back to see him turn to leave.

“Felix, I- Thank you.”

He looked back at you the bag slung over his shoulders. He just winked at you before getting on his board and rolling away. That was when you knew for real. You were falling for Lee Felix.

Felix boarded straight home his heart warm, ‘she talked to me, she told me… I made her feel like she was okay… I made her smile.’ the smile never left his face until he dialed Minho to explain.

"YOU BROKE MY BOARD!!!" the elder's voice echoed through his Samsung, okay so he may have lied. Minho absolutely fucking minded that his board was broken, but obviously, he wouldn't let you know that.

"Hyung, you have to let me explain." the bluehead tried to calm the furious guy on call. good thing he didn't go to hyung's apartment.

Minho was definitely going to be mad but who cares when he remembers you smiled at him. The Cat dad calmed down once Felix explained your situation, his worry drifting to you, asking if you were okay to which Felix proudly said "I made sure she was fine."

Falling for Felix was also easy like befriending him, and it happened quickly.

Now when you visited the ramp your eyes searched for the cotton candy blue hair. You tried to stare without him noticing you, blushing when his eyes caught you - it has happened too many times too- Han catching on quickly and teasing, you sometimes too loud on purpose so that Felix looked over to the commotion.

"Careful..." his deep voice whispered close to your ears. too close you could feel his breath hit the top of your ears. You were currently in his arms, one foot still on the wayward board. Someone had accidentally pushed you too hard, that someone being Han who thought it would be funny to push you like you guys were some high schoolers. You would have fallen if it wasn't for Felix, who came running as soon he saw the scene go down.

"That wasn't funny Ji, She could have been hurt," he told Jisung who was standing across from you. He had a nice jawline... you thought as you looked up to see him glare at Jisung,

"You okay?" Jisung asked you ignoring the scolding from Felix and Chae.

"I'm okay, I wasn't ready sorry it's my fault." you quickly release yourself from his hold and get off the board.

"No, it wasn't." you heard the Aussies deep voice.

"Don't get your boxers in a twist we were only playing." Han scoffed after making sure you were okay.

Felix rolled his eyes before he was pulled away by Chan.

“Haha he likes you,” Han whispered to you earning an elbow to his side. It was fine because you liked him too, you just did not know how to say it.

You were getting good at skating too, finally learning to get on and off, braking and gliding.

Felix helped you a lot more now, after the ice cream trip he was progressively spending more time with you.

Always walking you home (sometimes using lame excuses like I’m on the way even though everyone knows his home is two blocks from your building), helping you learn tricks, and most importantly coming out at night so that you are not alone when things get too much at your place.

He held you on nights you cried and then made you cry from laughter on nights you were feeling better. You slowly began opening up to him, telling him all sorts of things that happen at home, at your university, in class. He became a second presence to you, always having backup headphones and enough change for snacks. and never complaining when he had to sit with you all night on some days. Felix enjoyed this hangout as much as you did, he didn't mind he had to sacrifice sleep as long as he got to listen to your voice.

Time flew and the feelings between the two of you grew though they remained unspoken.

One particular incident was when the group was resting, chatting about this and that when Felix placed his head on your shoulder. You froze turning your head to look at him, eyes closed peacefully and basking in the sun, he stayed like that till everyone got up to leave, and a faint blush dusted your cheek.

They were obvious to everyone now that there was something going on between you both . It was bolder, lingering touches on your waist, always placing your hand in his while walking with you. It became a need to be always close to each other, sitting side by side with the group.

A few weeks in one day you reach the park Hyunjin's spare tucked safe in your arm, you now borrowed boards from each of them so that you do not have to take them home.

“Hey, Chan.” you greeted him as you walked into the skate park. As usual, you scanned the park for a glimpse of Felix. Weird last night that he had said he would be there.

“Hiya” Han called you over to where he sat,

“Hey,” you say walking over to him but still looking around.

“Where is Felix?” you asked, as you put your stuff on the bench. Han grimaced slightly before looking at you.

“He didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“Felix is leaving..”

“What?” you felt your old anxiety rise,

“He is leaving?" The question is more rhetorical, it should not hurt you that much but it did. The sadness also arises from the fact he did not say a word yesterday to you when you met him.

“Yeah, I think so… I’m sorry I thought you knew,” Han said realizing that you might actually cry right now.

“You okay?” his hands reached for yours.

“Yeah, ahem- yeah I’m fine, it’s just a surprise. Where is he?”

“Not sure… I can ask…” you nodded before turning to Chan who had walked over to the two of you. Throughout the whole day, everyone tried to make small talk with you but your silence persisted. Chae even offered to buy you sweets and later insisted on walking you home.

“He won’t leave without saying anything,” Chase reassured you. After Felix and Hannie, Chae talked the most to you. You provided a small smile nodding at her, even though Chae was reassuring the whole group was worried as Han dropped the news and Felix had vanished.

“Yeah of course…. Thanks for walking me Chae,” you say keeping the goodbye short. Before returning home you looked through the window again, catching a glimpse of Chae’s red hair reminding you of the long-haired boy.

“Dude, your friend was at the skatepark.”

“Who” you ask abandoning the book you were reading to look over at your sister who was hanging her coat in the room.

“I don’t know his name the one with the blue hair.”

Felix?! Did he come back? Did he come to say bye?

Thoughts rushed into your mind as you slipped on your outfit and slipped out of the room. You sprinted to the skatepark not wanting to miss the chance to see him … maybe for the last time. The thought scared you, you did not want to lose Felix, not Felix. You had lost the comfort of your home, your peace of mind, and your parents. You saw the tuft of blue hair disappear as he rolled down the ramp and he emerged on the other side side stepping off the board.

“You’re leaving?” you ask approaching him as he braked and got off the board.

“Did Han tell you?” he asked, you nodded “yes.” there was a moment of awkward silence. A moment.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you say reaching him. He stayed quiet eyes trained on you.

“You didn’t come for four days, were you just gonna leave like that?” your own voice sounding doubtful of itself. Felix had no obligation to you, you did not even know if he felt the same way for you, why would he tell you if he was leaving?

“I wasn’t -…” he cut off as you started speaking again for eyes looking everywhere but his.

“Don’t leave please,” you whispered drawing his attention to you.

“Don’t leave, Han is gonna miss you it might break him, Hyunjin today promised to show you his book if you stayed and Chan almost cried. Chae promised to break your legs, Bin and Seungmin are… everyone will just….”

“And you?” Felix stepped closer to you,

“Hmm?” you say confident you had misheard him.

“What about you, when I leave?”

“I will be sad about not having you here too.”

“And?” another step closer, your feet stay rooted.

“I will have to console Han.”

“You won’t miss me?”

“I… I don’t know.” you mentally slap yourself,

“That’s it?” he asks the small smile falling from his face, he was close to you now towering over your figure as you stared into his eyes.

“What else is there?” you whisper his eyes bore into yours as you got distracted by his freckles.

“Nothing else?” he spoke lowly, hands gripping your elbows softly.

The words on the tip of your tongue. Come on spit it out, this may be your only chance. But you couldn’t. Fear of rejection. Fear, in general, stopped you from at least trying to get what you wanted the most right now. Felix.

He sighed before stepping away, “I-... I think about you a lot.” he says stopping himself from continuing but his words were a reassurance you needed then.

Felix turned around and grabbed his board ready to walk away as he felt you grip his forearm and turn his body to face yours again.

You could not say bye to him at least not without showing him how you felt so you took hold of his face, and leaned on your toes to press your lips against his.

The board fell from his grasp as you scrunched your eyes tight. Felix first thought he was dreaming, but after his hands felt the soft fabric of your jacket, he knew he wasn’t, you were right here. Kissing him.

He moved his arms to wrap around you as you pulled away heels touching the floors again. You caught your breath looking at him, hands bunching up his t-shirt’s collar. He leaned down to capture your lips once more between his, a small sound of surprise escaping you as he held your face. The lights of the park turned off signaling it was late at night yet the two of you did not separate.

Kissing Felix felt less scary than you thought, his lips were so soft and he tasted like the watermelon-flavoured gum he chewed a lot. The two of you pulled away and his eyes shot open to find yours closed still. Your heart was beating and it could be heard in your ears.

“I like you,” you say loud enough for him to hear. Just him. Your eyes were still closed as you continued “I will miss you. A lot and I can’t leave without letting you know how I feel, I will regret it. I like you Felix.” he placed a peck on the tip of your nose, coaxing you to open your eyes. You did to find his forehead touching yours as he smiled.

He pecked your lips once more. “I really like you too,” he whispered. The words he said lifted a weight off you, relief flooding at the prospect of him reciprocating his feelings for you.

“You do?” you ask, his arms now held onto your waist as you move farther away to look at his face.

“I do. I like you so much,” he says not a hint of doubt in his voice. The butterflies in his stomach would not settle as he saw your eyelashes flutter at his confession. It was like you were willing yourself to believe. The momentary happiness dissolved as you remembered he was leaving, Felix frowned as your smile dropped.

“When are you leaving?” you ask pulling away completely his board was by your feet so you picked it up needing something to fiddle with. And he let you, Felix usually did not like people touching or messing with his board, he once almost pushed Seungmin off the ramp for hiding his board but when you picked it up it felt natural to him, he liked that you liked his board.

“Will I see you again before you go?” you ask, you feel like crying you’ve been feeling so for the past four days. You missed him.

A pause before he grinned.

“You will see me tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after, and on and on,” he says smiling his toothy smile. “I’m not leaving.”

“What?” you ask blinking as if that would clear things up.

“My family is leaving, they are shifting back to my hometown. I’m staying here.”

He wasn’t leaving. He wasn’t leaving! you had confessed and he wasn’t leaving. Wait .. you thought he was leaving oh no you kissed him, you will see him tomorrow and you kissed him.

“You.. you’re not, leaving?” you ask

“No, I’m not.” “But Han,”

“He assumed that I was leaving, I just went to find him and explain before I could talk to the others everyone just thought I was leaving.” he chuckled.

“Oh my god, you’re not leaving.”

“No, but hey it made you kiss me.” he winked but you were mad. You pushed his shoulder his laughter increasing.

“You’re an ass. You could not have told me this these four days or .. or right before we…”

“We?” he was giggling enjoying teasing you.

“We… I feel so embarrassed right now.” he laughed before coming closer to you, you stepped back before he placed his arms on your side.

“Hey, don’t be nothing has changed. I like you.” he bent his neck to look at your downcast eyes.

“I’m sorry, but you were so cute explaining why I shouldn’t leave that I couldn’t correct you. Besides it was high time you told me how you felt.” He explained loving your flustered reaction

“What about you? You didn’t make a move either.” you countered trying to pry out of his arms.

“I wasn’t sure if you felt the same way. You were closed off before and I did not want to scare you away.” it was true at first you were not welcoming to everyone, being pretty reserved and closed off even Jisung had to wriggle his way through that wall you built.

“I’m sorry,” he says genuinely no laughter this time as he pulls you close once more.

“I almost cried. Thinking you were gonna leave without even telling me.”

“Sorry.” he leaned down to peck you again but you stormed off. You could hear him chuckle behind you before he caught up to your pace.

“Let me walk you home,” he said taking your palm and walking forward. you wanted to ask him but he just walked forward. His finger interlocked with yours. It made your grip tighter.

“Are you mad?” he asked, you did not answer simply walking but you stopped. Felix looked curious as you walked towards him stopping a few feet ahead.

“You are really not leaving right?” you asked, “If this is also a prank I will hate you.”

He smiled before stepping closer and wrapping you in a hug, “I promise I’m not leaving.” you did not hug him back he figured you were still a bit embarrassed and angry at his mischievousness.

“Okay. goodnight.” before leaving he managed to sneak a kiss on your cheek to which he received a glare. He will have to make it up to you for disappearing for four days and scaring you. But he felt content as he watched you disappear into your home.

Amongst the embarrassment of assuming and everything you felt happy. He liked you back and you were blushing like a sixth grader who just got cooties.

“So you just left for four days?!! I thought you were leaving!” Han yelled at Felix his helmet raised high ready to bash Felix as you watched at the sidelines- pretend angry like Joey said 'mob mentality or whatever'-.

Chae had twisted his hand for a total of five seconds, five seconds that Seungmin took his sweet time counting. After all, everyone was relieved that their friend wasn’t leaving. Relieved but furious. As a punishment Felix had to buy Ice cream for everyone.

“Mango for you?” he said smirking extending the different types of Ice cream to you, the mango bar in front. You reached for the chocolate cone instead and walked off, you could hear his chuckle looking back as you saw him distribute to everyone else, fighting Chae for the mango bar. He kept his eyes on you the whole time.

“Still mad at me?” he says walking backward, how the hell was he doing that avoiding all the poles and other obstacles you will never know.

“You tricked me into confessing,” you say watching him and walking home. “I didn’t you assumed I was leaving.” he swayed before waiting for you to catch up. You rolled your eyes, he was right but he could have corrected you.

But before you could retort you see your father waiting at the entrance of your building. You froze Felix's eyes following your gaze to see him, arms crossed.

“I have to go,” you say lowly as you walk forward. But he kept along with your steps till you guys were in front of the man. You hoped he was sober and not angry. like last time you did not want to cause a scene outdoors.

“Who are you boy?” you father asked, his tone rude.

“My name is Felix sir.” he replied back rather confidently.

“You on something?”

“Dad!” you intervened, “What are -”

“No sir, I don’t use any sort of recreational drugs.” Felix cut in for you, saying calm as still water.

Your father grunted staring at him, his eyes falling on his blue hair. His faced morphed a disgusted expression before he turned to you.

"Get inside quickly." He gruffed before walking back inside throwing one last glare in your direction.

“I’m sorry he isn’t usually like this. He is drunk.” you apologies to Felix,

“Hey. it's alright,” he said stepping in front of you once again, hesitating before using his pointer finger to raise your chin to meet his eyes.

“It’s okay you talked to me about this remember.” you gazed at him, face mirroring his sweet smile.

“Thank you.”

“Go on a date with me.” the words are out simultaneously

“What?” you chuckle even though you heard him.

Felix ran his fingers through his hair before asking again. “Tomorrow evening? A date? You and me?” his fingers pointed to and fro between you.

“Okay.” Your feelings were clear, you both liked each other. There was no reason to deny or decline it.

“Okay,” he confirmed before letting you go back to your apartment. He made sure you got in alright before getting on his board and riding away not before stopping by a certain building with bright neon boards.

a/n: hope you guys enjoyed this. I now have a date to plan. The next chapter will contain smut so Minors DNI. I will write an SFW ending too like an epilogue.

tagging 🏷️: @noellllslut, @comet-falls, @daughterofodine (My newest tag buddy)

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promptsforyourwhumpfic · 5 months

Text

The Grand A-Z List of Whump 3/3

This list contains 194 items listed R to Z

As always, I heavily encourage people to research topics thoroughly when writing. Whump is generally a 'dead dove' sort of topic, however it is important to avoid stereotypes/misinformation. This lists intention is to not glorify/romanticise sensitive topics in any way.

This is a comprehensive list of injuries, Illnesses and tropes - including those from the Whumptober 2023 trope vote!

All submissions are listed in italics, and those who wanted to be tagged will be included at the end. If you have any more submissions: please send them via DM/my ask box.

[A-H] [I-Q] [NSFW List]

List below the cut:

Rabies

Radiation Poisoning/Exposure

Radio Silence

Ransom Note/Video

Rashes

Recovery

Reducing breaks or dislocations (bonus: out in the field with no painkillers available)

Reflection

Rejection

Reluctant Caretaker

Reluctant Whumpee

Reminded of trauma

Reopened Wound

Repressed Emotions

Repressed trauma resurfacing

Rescue

Rescued by the enemy

Rescues gone wrong

Respiratory Distress

Restraints

Reuniting

Revenge

Ringing Ears

Ritual sacrifice

Rockslides

Role Reversal

Rope Burns

Running fingers through hair (maliciously or comfortingly)

Running Out of Air

Ruptured eardrum

Sacrifice

Sadistic Choice

Sartorial constraints

Scars

Scoliosis

Scraped Knees

Scratched corneas

Scratches

Seasickness

Second impact syndrome

Secrets

Sedated

Seeing double

Seizures

Self esteem issues

Self induced injury to escape

Self sacrifice

Self-aid

Self-inflicted injury (to escape)

Semi-consciousness

Sensory Deprivation/Overload

Sentimental Items

Separation

Sepsis

Servitude

Setbacks in recovery

Severed Artery

Shaking Hands

Shipwreck

Shivering

Shock

Shock collar

Shot (gun, arrow, dart, etc...)

Shrapnel (blast/wounds)

Sick/injured at a party

Skull fracture

Slapped

Sleep Deprivation

Sleep Paralysis

Sleeping in the cold

Sleeplessness

Smashing their head into a wall

Smoke Inhalation

Snake Bites

Sneezing

So sick they can barely even stand or stay awake

Significant other taking care of wounds

So weak they have to hold on to something or someone to walk

Solitary Confinement

Special object being ruined/torn apart

Spinal Cord Injury

Split lip

Sprains

Stab Wounds

Stabbed (sword, spear, knife, TRIDENT!, etc...)

Stabbed through the back by the only person the whumpee trusted

Stage fright

Stalking

Status epilepticus

Stiches

Stings (insect, creature, plants)

Stitches

Stoic/Defiant Whumpee

Stoic/Rude/Harsh Reluctant Caregiver!Mentor & Ball of Sunshine Hurt!Mentee (platonic)

Stomach ache

Stomach Ulcers (a cause for vomiting up blood)

Stomach virus

Straight Jacket

Strangling

Strangulation resulting in bruised or swollen vocal chords and loss of voice + the process of regaining your voice and everything that comes with that trauma.

Stress (this could induce headaches/general illness)

Stress Position

Stumbling

Sucking chest wound

Suffocating

Sunburn

Super glued to toilet

Surgery

Surgery gone wrong

Surrendering

Survivor's Guilt

Swollen Lymph Nodes

Tachycardia

Taking the bullet

TBI (traumatic brain injury)

Team as a family

Team has a certain amount of time to get to their Whumpee before they’re killed

Team teaming up to take care of sick teammate

Temporary Loss of Sense(s)

Tendonitis

Tetanus

The Final Straw

Thrown from an explosion

Time Loop

Tiny whump

Tonsillitis

Tooth knocked out

Torn Ligaments - Achilles, Meniscus etc.

Torn Muscles

Torture

Touch Aversion/Touch Starved

Tranquilizer Dart

Trap

Trapped (whether this is after an explosion, car accident, natural disaster…)

Trapped Limbs

Trapped underwater

Trauma reveal

Tremors

Trust Issues

Truth spell/serum

Tuberculosis

Twisted ankle

Undead (vampires and ghosts and zombies, oh my!)

Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms

Unresponsive

Upper respiratory infection

Used as bait

Usually big, strong and boisterous whumpee becomes quiet and weaker as the whumper conditions them.

UTI (Urinary Tract Infection)

Vampire whump

Vampires Thrall

Vehicular Accident

Venom

Vertigo

Very badly hurt and on life support - with slow recovery

Virus

Visions

Vocal chord paralysis

Vomiting/Vomiting blood

Waterboarding

West Nile virus

Whip scars

Whipping/Flogging

Whumpee being psychologically tortured via fake escape scenarios so when they are actually getting rescued they don't believe it. bonus point if they still don't think anything is real.

Whumpee dreams of a loved one happily inviting them “home” (They're actually dying IRL)

Whumpee getting the upper hand over whumper.

Whumpee stabbing whumper or beating their head into the ground over and over while sobbing, even when they’re clearly dead because they NEED to take their emotions out.

Whumpee turned Whumper

Whumpee watches caretaker take a bullet/hit/poison for them.

Whumper turned Caretaker

Whumper turned whumpee

Whumper with a crush

Wincing/Flinching

Wing whump

Wisdom Tooth Removal

Withdrawal

Withholding Medical Treatment

Witnessing. (Whumpee sees someone die in a brutal way. Whumpee sees someone get possessed/turned into a zombie/some other horrifying thing and they just stare horrified.)

Working for the enemy

Working through injury/illness

Working to Exhaustion

Wrists rubbed raw

Wrong Place, Wrong Time

Wrongfully Accused/Arrested

Wrongfully fired

Xeroderma. (Extreme sun sensitivity)

XMRV is a newly identified human retrovirus that is similar to a group of mouse retroviruses (called murine leukaemia viruses, or MLVs)

Yellow Fever

Zombie virus, etc.

Zoonotic Hookworm

Zoonotic illness (It’s a disease carried or transmitted by animals to humans like tularemia or psittacosis)

Zosler (Shingles)

Zygomycosis (Fungal infection)

TAG LIST: Thank you very much to the following people for submitting ideas! (I apologise if some tags did not work, I'm not sure why tumblrs not letting me tag you!)

#whump #tropes #prompts #a-z of whump #r-z #writing #ideas #angst #a-z #death tw #illness tw #injury tw #emetophobia #emeto #emeto tw #vomit tw #emetophobia tw #whump tropes

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allfornuo · 4 months

Text

a kiss for the chef? | qian kun

bf!kun cooks for his sick beloved (gender neutral)

contains. domestic atmosphere. lots of teasing. 95% fluff. 0.1% angst. 4.9% suggestive word count. 1.8k

it was finally weekend, but as you got off work on friday evening you felt your body was starting to get chilly and your throat growing to feel a little itchy. you didn't think much of it, but after taking a shower you started feeling even worse, your body was now trembling in cold, no matter how many layers you would dress in, the blanket of your bed wasn't big help either. gladly the air conditioner remote was right on your nightstand, so you set it on heat with a timer for two hours and somehow managed to fall asleep.

---

saturday morning was afwul, you had woken up from your own shivers and a splitting headache. it was nearly impossible to open your eyes but you fought with all your might to do just that. the scene of a rising sun only made you squint in pain. you got up, quickly, almost hysterically looked through your cabinets for some kind of pain killer, anything to make this headache go away as quick as possible. although your stomach felt super empty, you couldn't even think of eating breakfast right now, you were sure it would only make your condition worse, so you just went back to your bed for a nap.

you were out for around 2 hours, the sun was already lighting up your whole bedroom, but it didn't hurt your eyes anymore. your body still felt chilly, so you decided to check your body temperature. and there you have it: 38.8 degrees. you're officially sick. you groan in disappointment because you had made plans to go out with your friend in the afternoon, but it seems like that will have to wait. you grab your phone to let your friend know about your condition but what distracts you at the moment is your boyfriend kun. he has sent you a whole bunch of texts last night. you open the conversation and hurriedly read all the messages:

"did you finish work?" 17:05

"♪⁠┌⁠|⁠∵⁠|⁠┘⁠♪" 17:05

"is everything okay?" 18:24

"please let me know if anything happened as soon as you can okay" 18:32

":(" 20:01

"i hope you're sleeping well in your bed right now" 21:29

"goodnight baby~" 21:29

"i don't want to seem clingy but i'm a bit worried. hope i'm just overreacting. call me" 00:57

cold sweat washes over you as you read your boyfriend's messages and grasp how concerned he was last night. you press the call button immediately, not sure if he's available to talk at the moment. but he picks up almost right away. "y/n!" he exclaims, almost startling you "is everything alright?", his voice rushed and a little shaky. you can tell he was waiting for you to call as soon as possible.

"hello... don't worry nothing happened last night" you shyly answer.

"really? why didn't you answer? you never leave me hanging like this". you can imagine him sulking a little and that warms your heart.

you cough softly and reply with "i'm sorry. i think i got fever last night, and i slept so poorly" you sigh, "also I'm constantly cold"

kun shuffles around at the other side of the line and relaxedly exhales. "should I cancel my schedule and come to you? did you eat?" you can practically see his tense expression turn into endearing one.

"no! don't cancel anything. believe it or not, i know how to fight the fever myself"

kun chuckles sounding a bit more laid-back now, "you sure you don't need more punch power in this fight?"

"i'm sure! don't cancel your schedules!" you practically order "and don't you dare come here i don't want you to get sick because of me". you say but feel regret forming in your chest right away. you don't want to push him away.

although you felt horrible, and knew that staying away from him would be better for everyone, you still yearn to see him after a long week of you both continuously working.

you assume that kun reads your mind when he says "you think a fever can stop me from coming to see you after all this time apart?"

you blush at his words and bashfully reply, "but it's only been 5 days"

"5 days of torture. and you are telling me to make it 6? no way."

you kick your feet under a blanket but try your best to keep your composure because you're still on a call with him.

"i'll have to hang up now, make sure you eat and take your medicine right after, okay?" kun instructs rushedly but doesn't forget to add "i love you"

"alright. okay. good luck at work. i love you"

the conversation ends and you smile to your phone foolishly, until you see your friend's text asking you if you're ready to go out today. you feel dumbfounded for forgetting about this previously made arrangement for a bit but let her know immediately that you're feeling unwell and would like to reschedule to another time.

---

your doorbell suddenly rings at 7 in the evening, startling you as you were dozing off, all wrapped up in blankets and watching your k-drama.

you pick yourself up lazily, still wrapped in blankets and rubbing your eyes, you look at the intercom screen and see your boyfriend's face. you grin to yourself at the sight and open the door for him.

"why didn't you use the digital lock..." you whine first thing as you greet him.

kun looks at you, all wrapped up in blankets like a big human sized chicken wrap and coos, "oh baby..." he walks in with two giant bags in his hands raising them up higher to show them off "my hands were full by the way"

"how did you press the bell then?" you continue whining.

"with my nose" kun giggles as he softly places a small peck on your forehead while walking past you. he puts the bags down on the kitchen chair and starts unloading them, revealing snacks and various food ingredients.

you chuckle at his words and walk up to him to investigate what he's plotting with all this food. there were way more groceries than you can use in one day. "didn't i tell you to not come over?" your tone is a bit more serious now.

kun without a word hangs his jacket, washes his hands after unloading the rest of the groceries and starts tying your kitchen apron on himself.

"hey, aren't you busy?" you push when you don't get an answer.

"do you really think i could work on my projects right now knowing that you're here sick all alone?" kun cuts, his voice stern, but eyes soft.

you can't keep this tough act up anymore and give in with a small "sorry..."

kun looks down at the table with the groceries and grins, showing off his dimples. "did you—" "what are you—" you both speak at the same time and suddenly burst into silly laughter, breaking the previous tension completely.

"you go first baby" kun says as he washes and starts cutting up some vegetables.

you sheepishly smile "what are you making? can I help?"

kun adores you. he practically melts when you offer him your help, but he politely declines "next time. right now i need you to go lay down and just wait until the food is served"

"isn't that princess treatment?" you tease.

"yes. only for you" kun replies, making you both cringe a little.

he's busy with pots and pans but you know you can completely trust him since his food never tasted less than perfect.

you keep stealing looks at him from the living room sofa where you're *watching* your television, when in reality you can't focus on the plot anymore.

"are you in love with me or something?" kun's chirpy voice teases you from the kitchen and you could swear he hasn't looked up to you this whole time, but somehow he still managed to feel your stares from the other room. he chuckles to himself and stirs the food in the pot carefully "it's almost ready"

you wiggle your feet excitedly as he brings you a bowl with steaming congee and a plate of fresh breadsticks on the side. the smell alone drives you crazy.

kun watches your expression with so much affection and you can see he's fighting the urge to smother you in his love. he takes your spoon in order to feed you the first scoop. it tastes heavenly but you just have to tease him once more, so you make a questionable face at the first bite.

to your success, his expression changes from endearing to confused by your reaction "what is it? is it too salty?"

"no... but it has a lot of this one ingredient..."

"what ingredient?" kun smells the congee in your bowl one more time, trying to figure it out.

"it's just so..." you are keeping him on edge with dragging your answer "... full of love"

kun relaxes a bit and shakes his head with a scrunchy grin at your little game.

"oh y/n... finish it quickly so I can tackle you"

you both giggle, "aren't you scared to get sick?" "i won't get sick" kun immediately replies, his eyes basically burning into you, making you blush a little. you hide your cheeks with the bowl avoiding this intense eye contact.

he's sitting right beside you on the sofa, he patiently waits and watches every little mimic on your face as you eat the meal he so carefully prepared. as you're finishing up the last scoops in the bowl, his eyes darken a little and he's moving the bowl out of the way, on the table.

"repeats please!" you cut the sly act, sensing what's going on.

kun snickers and points a finger at you, "the congee isn't forever you know" he gets up to pour you another round of this delicious meal.

he's back staring at you as you're finishing up the second bowl until you can't eat anymore. "thank you. it was a very hearty meal. brought me back home"

kun smirks confidently, shifts closer to your side and boldly says, "so.. a kiss for the chef?"

you sigh with a small smile, you knew this was coming sooner or later, "i'm sick, kun"

"a kiss for the chef?" he repeats with the same tone.

you groan a little, feeling like this is not a winning fight for you, and cup his face in your palms, looking deep into his eyes. he's staring back at you, puffing his lips out.

"you look so silly" you say as you squish his cheeks more firmly, making his lips puff more.

he tries to smile with his cheeks pressed between your hands and makes you laugh cheerily.

"thank you chef" you let off your grip, now holding him gently and finally press your lips to his.

he smiles into the kiss, pulls back for a moment and scans your features once more. once he sees that mutual sparkle in your eyes he slips right under the blanket you have wrapped yourself into, kissing you back so hungrily, "it's dessert time"

#kun #wayv kun #wayv #nct #kpop #cpop #kun x reader #kun scenarios #wayv scenarios #nct wayv #qian kun #kun x yn #gender neutral reader #gn reader

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fl3shm4id3n · 1 year

Text

𝓘𝓽 𝓦𝓪𝓼 𝓜𝓮𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝓣𝓸 𝓑𝓮

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐰 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞. 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐬𝐢𝐱 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

ᴊᴀᴄᴀᴇʀʏꜱ ᴠᴇʟᴀʀʏᴏɴ x ᴀᴜɴᴛ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ x ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: Targ!cest (Aunt and Nephew), underage drinking, medieval themes, Driftmark events, angst, a pinch of fluff. Jacaerys being a sweet heart. Reader being a little menace, forced marriage, erranged marriage.

Author’s note: I’ve been thinking a lot about Jace, so I decided to write a fic with him in it. I also wanted to as some what of a dark!(?) Aemond x reader, I might make a part two of this :P

Since you were a child and on your own most of the time, your nephew Jace had always included you in his interests and he’d get interested in yours. After his training he’d go and see what you where up to. He’d get his brother Luke to come hang out with you as well.

Jace was always a gentleman towards you, he’d open the door for you, pull your chair out for you, he even has picked you up once in the garden when it had rained and there was puddles of mud, so that you didn’t get your dress dirty.

You were also there in the dragon pit with your brothers and nephews, that was when they decided to play a prank on Aemond, it was a harmless jest right? After you went to talk to Aemond about it all being a joke, he was not happy, he has yelled at you, calling you all sorts of names that you don’t even remember what they were. You just laughed and shrugged it off because he was upset about a pig dress as a dragon.

Even though the family was splitting, you tried to be by his side no matter the cost. When Aemond had lost his eye by the hands of Luke, you weren’t present, you were in your bedchamber’s passed out drunk from the drinking you have been doing with your brother Aegon.

You were sleeping, not hearing the door open and close. Then the bed had a bit of movement, feeling a light shake and your named being whispered. “Jacey? What are you doing?” you asked as you sat up, getting a good look at him. “What happened to you? You look like you came out of a bar fight” you said as he had a sad look on his face. “I came to say goodbye Y/n/n” he said sadly, this made your blood run cold. “what do you mean?” you asked, now scared.

“Mother says we’ll be going to Dragonstone” Jace said with a frown on his face. “But you can’t leave” you said hugging him tightly, afraid that he’ll disappear, tears had now flooded your eyes. He hugged you back. “I have to go were my family goes, I’m sorry” he said as you sobbed, hugging him tighter. “We’ll meat each other again, I promise” he said as you sniffed, using the sleeve of your gown to wipe off the tears and snot.

“Can I do something?” Jace asked as you nodded. “Close your eyes” he said, you gladly obeyed, waiting until you felt a soft pair of lips touch yours. It was quick, it made your stomach flutter as if you had eaten butterflies.

The next morning your family left back to the Red Keep, you along with your siblings headed back on dragon back. You found out what happened, Aemond claimed a dragon that it wasn’t for him to claim, the price he paid was by loosing his eye. You didn’t really care, what hurt more was the pain in your heart.

Back home, you didn’t leave your room until it was time for you and Aegon to go to the Tavern. You drank your sorrows away and cried. You missed Jace already, Aegon encouraged you to drink more which you gladly did. He was the one who had carried you to an Inn that night for you to rest while he went to a brothel.

The next morning you went to break your fast with Aegon, with a major headache from the drinking. That’s when you saw Aemond’s missing eye, that would leave a scar for sure. You didn’t really eat, you just drank wine to get over the headache. Then you left, not bothering to asked to be dismissed, before Alicent could stop you, your father told her to leave you be.

𝒮𝒾𝓍 𝒴𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓈 𝐿𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇

Today was going to be long, Veamond Velaryon had petitioned the crown to be named Heir of Driftmark, you didn’t care much until you heard that Rhaenyra and her sons will come. You got excited, Jacaerys was coming. You were basically jumping of happiness. You wore your red dress and added a body chain that displayed between your chest. Hopefully he still found you pretty like when you were children.

You explored the halls, trying to find him, you were nervous. What did he look like? Did he still have his freckles? Was his button nose the same? Was he still shorter than you? Then you felt a warm hand take yours, quickly turning to see who it was, it was him, the boy now man you were looking for.

Jacaerys Velaryon in the flesh “Hello, Y/n” he said as you stared at him, he had grown taller, way much taller than you. His once button nose was now slim, and he had a few visible freckles, he also grew in a jawline, he was stunning. “H-hello... Jacey” you said feeling your face heating up. You also caught how his voice had got deeper too.

“You look, lovely my lady, short hair really suits you” He said as he takes your hand, bringing it to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Thank you, you had gotten handsome yourself” you said as you looked into his eyes, those beautiful brown eyes. It may not be proper for the two of be being alone together but you didn’t care, you really missed him.

Then you both hugged, his embrace was warm “I’ve missed you” you admitted as he stroked his delicate fingers thought the short strands of your hair. “I missed you too Y/n/n” how you missed that nickname, he was the only person who had called you that.

You didn’t want to go to the trail, you just wanted to spend time with him or even take him to the tavern to catch up, but he convinced you to go. You wanted to stand by him but he protested, insisting that you stand by your family, finally you had agreed.

During the trial, your focus was on him, he’d also look at you from time to time. You were standing between Aegon and Helaena, while Aemond was behind you. It felt as if it was only you and Jace in the room, so close but yet so far. “I see that you saw your lover” Aegon whispered in your ear causing you to smile. Aegon knew how you felt towards Jace, you had accidently told him one night that you were drinking at the tavern drunk and just spilling whatever you had to say.

Then your Uncle sliced Sir Veamond’s head clean off, due to him calling your older sister a whore and her sons bastards. “He deserved that” you said to yourself but Aegon heard you, making him laugh as Otto had yelled for your Uncle to be disarmed.

You heard about the dinner, it made you more happy, being able to share a dinner with your other family, also Jace will be there. When it was time for the dinner, you got there as quick as possible, you spotted a seat that was empty, Jace was occupying the chair on the right, before you could take that seat, Aegon had sat down, then next to him his sister-wife Helaena, then their was an empty hair between Aemond and Helaena.

You sigh sadly and just sat down on the chair, you also noticed how Aemond was looking at you. Ever since that day from Driftmark, you noticed how your older brother would try to be a part of your activities, but you never really cared much if he was around. Why would he want be involved with you when he had Mother’s attention.

The king was carried in, as you stood up along with the others. Toasts had been shared and the night was going peaceful. As you drowned on your wine, you saw how Jace excused himself and walked over to you, the offered his hand out to you. Gladly you took his hand allowing him guide you to the empty floor for a dance.

Aemond turned his seat and watched you dance with the Velaryon boy. During the whole dance he just stared at you both dance, and stopped when your father had been carried away to his bed chambers. Everything was moving smoothly until a roasted pig was placed in front of your brother causing your younger nephew to chuckle.

After your brother had called your nephews Strong, causing a small brawl. After the brawl was stopped by your uncle, you walked over to Aemond, angrily and shoved him as hard as you could causing him to nearly fall. “You fucking twat!!” you screamed angrily, not carrying if they all saw, you were upset. Then when your cousins and nephews, you went after Jace.

“Jacearys!” you said catching up to him, he gestured his brother and cousins to leave the two of you alone and they gladly did. “I’m sorry for Aemond” you said looking down embarrassed. “It’s alright, tis not your fault” he said as he picked up your hands and held them. You sigh, still feeling responsible for your brother’s out burst. “I was thinking of going to the Tavern I go to, would you like to join me?” You asked looking into his eyes. “I’d like to Y/n/n” he said leaning in and kissed your cheek lightly, feeling your face heat up.

When you departed, an hour or two has passed, you had woken up from your nap and got ready to sneak out with Jace. After you had finished tying your boots, someone walked in, you assumed it was Jace, but it was your brother Aemond.

“Didn’t your mummy teach you to knock?” you said as you got up, checking yourself out on the mirror. Aemond just hummed as he watched you “you are going out?” he asked as you rolled your eyes “Isn’t it obvious?” you said as you went to reach your hood. “With that Strong boy I assume? What a shame, he along with the rest of his family had left.” You stopped in your tracks and looked at him.

“You’re jesting aren’t you?” you said looking at his face, he was serious. Jace had left? What is a last minute thing? You wondered as you’re distracted, Aemond was now standing in front of you, lifting your chin to look at him. “I also wanted to deliver you better news.” He said with a grin, this made you shiver. “What may that be?” you asked shaken by his grin.

“We are to wed, we’ll be husband and wife” he said with a sinister like look. You backed away from him “No, it- it can’t be” you said turning away from him, not wanting to look at him. “It is, we were meant to be together, and now we’ll fulfill it” he walked towards you placing his hands on your shoulders. “It was meant to be” he whispered it in your ear, feeling your eye beginning to water by these news. You were suppose to wed Jace, not Aemond, but you had no other choice but to obey.

“Fine, I’ll be your wife but in one condition.” You said frustrated. “What may that be?” Aemond asked as he turned you around, lifting your hand to his lip and kissed your knuckles. “I’ll be your wife, but I will never be your woman” you said, he only smiled, seeing that you had agreed to this. “Of course, anything for my soon-to-be-wife.”

#house of the dragon #hotd #a song of ice and fire #fire and blood #jacaerys velaryon #aemond targaryen #jacaerys velaryon x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon x aunt! reader #aemond targaryen x sister! reader #jacaerys velaryon x y/n #jacaerys velaryon x targaryen! reader #aemond targaryen x targaryen! reader #y/n targaryen #targaryen! reader #sister! reader #aunt! reader

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blue-slxt · 10 months

Text

It Was Supposed To Be Us - Chapter 3

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

A/N: Getting into some sensitive territory in this part. All characters are aged up.

Previous Part | Next Part

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: This chapter contains some potentially triggering content for DV so please proceed with caution. There is also: making out, dry humping, and mentions of a hangover.

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: Ralu starts to catch wind of your feelings for your "friend".

The morning sun rays seep through to wake you the next day and the light makes your head pound before you’ve even opened your eyes. Your whole body feels heavy like lead and there’s a pressure throbbing behind your eyes. You’re finally able to peel them open and look around. It hurts to move your eyes and they’re puffy. Were you crying? How did you make it home? The last thing you remember was being at the party with Neteyam and then…Ralu. He took you away. And the hurt on Neteyam’s face was evident. The remembering makes your eyes well up with fresh tears. But crying would aggravate your already head-splitting pain. The healing tent probably has some herbs you could take to help you not feel like you’re dying.

Carefully, you push your body from your hammock and change your clothes out of last night’s wardrobe. The clan is already starting to stir awake, and people are getting through their daily chores. Surely, the Tsahik would already be in her tent. The walk to the tent is like torture. As still and quiet as the morning air is, it’s still too loud for your overly sensitive ears right now. You finally make it to the tent, and, to your surprise, Kiri is there with Mo’at. “Oh, hey Kiri, I didn’t expect to see you here.” “Well, I never stopped my training when I was gone so it only made sense to continue when I returned. What are you doing here so early?”

“I have a killer headache right now. Was hoping you might have something that could help get me through the day?” You rub your temples trying to relieve some of the pressure.

“Let me see what we have.” Kiri gestures for you to sit while she shuffles around the tent gathering various herbs and roots. “So, who was that man that you disappeared with last night?” she continues grinding the herbs and adding liquid while she speaks.

You stare at your feet in front of you, partially out of shame, but also because it gives you something to focus on so that you don’t feel so off balance. “Ralu. He is the man that my parents have promised me to.”

She nods her head in understanding, “I see. Now my brother’s mood makes more sense.”

You sink a little more into the floor. “Is he upset with me?” She bends down to offer you the bowl to drink from. “I don’t think he is upset with you. It is a surprise, though. When we were gone, he talked about you often. Even when our parents were urging him to finally take a mate, he would hear nothing of it. He said you were waiting for him. Truth be told, I thought he was delusional to think that you would put your life on hold for him.”

She watches as you sip from the bowl slowly so as to not churn your stomach. “But I did. I waited for him every day, Kiri. I’ve never wanted anyone besides Neteyam. It is not my choice to be with Ralu. My parents arranged this without caring for my wishes. Even now, you guys are back, but my parents still think I am being childish. And I don’t want to hurt Ralu, he’s done nothing wrong, but I don’t love him. I barely know him.”

“Well, you will only make him and yourself miserable going through with it if your heart’s not in it.” She places a hand on your knee, “Look, I’ve seen the way that Neteyam looks at you and he’s bent our ears for years with talk about you. He is clearly head over heels for you. And obviously you feel the same. It shouldn’t have to be more complicated than that.”

Her words are a welcome comfort, but it is short lived. ‘It shouldn’t have to be more complicated than that’. But it is. You let out a deep sigh and drink more from the bowl she gave you. Is it right to defy your parents? To walk away from Ralu? Would that be selfish? You don’t know any more. You finish the last of the drink and hand Kiri the bowl. “Thanks for the help and the advice. I think I need to sit on this one for a while.”

Kiri smiles at you, “I’m always here to help…in whatever way you need.”

Kiri was always a good friend to you, even as children. She was level-headed and gentle, and she understood what it was like to be different.

“Now that I know where you’ll be, I’ll be sure to come by and bother you sometime” you joke.

You always left interactions with Kiri feeling lighter. That is, until you bump into a familiar face while leaving the tent. “Oh, hi Neteyam.” And suddenly, you’re hurling right back down to reality.

“Oh, hey…” his ears are pinned down.

A heavy silence hangs between you for longer than a beat until he breaks it. “I just wanted to say sorry.” What was he apologizing for? He had done nothing wrong. If anything, you should be the one to apologize for letting things go as far as they did the other night without telling him the truth.

“I didn’t realize that you were spoken for already and I crossed a line that I shouldn’t have. If I had known—”

“You don’t need to apologize. It’s on me. I should have told you. But it’s not like how it looks.” He looks at you confused, but before you can explain further, “Yawne!” A shiver runs up your spine.

You both turn to see Ralu jogging over to you. Perfect, because this moment wasn’t already hard enough. He comes over to you and lightly holds you by your arms, “I was worried about you after last night. I wanted to be sure you were feeling better.”

You internally sink away from his touch. “I am fine. Thank you for getting me home.”

“I’m just glad you are feeling better.” He finally turns to acknowledge Neteyam and he puts his arm around your shoulders. “Hey, I see you’re up bright and early too.”

“Right, just on my way to the healing tent to speak with my sister” he gestures to the tent behind them.

Ralu’s grip on your shoulders tightens ever so slightly and it makes you squirm. He gives Neteyam a smile that’s just a bit too wide but doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I should be getting back home. I’m still really tired.” You say trying to get away from this weird building tension.

“Here, I’ll walk you.” Ralu insists. You nod accepting his offer, not wanting to be rude.

“I’ll see you around Neteyam.” You give him a small wave as you’re escorted away. What you don’t notice is the glare Ralu shoots Neteyam as you’re leaving.

And now, for the second time, Neteyam is forced to stand and watch as you leave him with another man holding on to you. His nails dig into his palms squeezing his hands in fists at his side to hold himself back from reaching out and going after you. When he turns around, Kiri is already leaning against one of the posts watching him. “Skxawng” she mutters.

…

It felt like the day dragged on forever. The drink Kiri made for you earlier helped to ease your headache, but your body still felt sluggish all day. Just getting in and out of your hammock was a challenge. Next thing you knew, it was time for communal dinner. You will your body to move forward, hoping that maybe you’ll be able to get a moment alone with Neteyam so you can explain the situation to him in full. He needs to understand that you haven’t abandoned him, but you are being held against your will. It seems you would have no such luck, though. As soon as you step foot out of your family’s tent, Ralu is already there and he’s insisting on joining you for dinner. It’s not exactly like you can tell him ‘Hey, I need to go talk to Neteyam and explain to him that I actually love him and don’t want to be with you’.

He sticks by your side all night long. He never lets you out of his sight so getting a moment alone with Neteyam was nearly impossible. Instead, you had to settle for small fleeting glances from across the way when the two of you would catch each other’s eye.

The following week is suffocating. Ralu is suffocating. It seems you never get a moment alone anymore. Every time you leave your home, he’s there. When you go to forage, when you go to meals, hell, it’s a wonder how you even get a chance to bathe by yourself.

Even now, the pressure is weighing on your mind too much and it’s interrupting your sleep. It’s the middle of the night and all you want is sleep, but instead you’re wide awake and left alone with your thoughts. Maybe, this could be a chance to have some alone time. Tiptoeing out of your home, you stay as silent as possible making sure to not wake your parents when you leave. You peer out of the front to ensure that there’s no one around and quickly make your way out and through to the forest.

It feels like you can breathe again. Being surrounded by the late-night sounds and not having someone breathing down your neck the entire time is just what you needed.

Your body instinctively heads for your spot. You can see it just ahead in the distance and the gravity of all you’ve been dealing with is starting to catch up to you. You push forward hoping to outrun it, but the tears escape before you’ve fully made it into the clearing. When you break free from the foliage, you fall forward on your hands and knees. Every breath you draw in burns your chest and only fuels your distressed sobs.

The tears flow freely down your face now and you make no more attempts to stop them. Why was this happening? Why were you being punished? You throw your head up searching the night sky for answers, but you catch something off to the side. “Neteyam?” he was already here.

You scramble to sit on your knees and wipe your face with your palms. Your cheeks now burned with embarrassment from your shameful display. It’s not like he’s never seen you cry before, but you still wanted the ground to just swallow you right now.

“Sorry, I-I didn’t know you’d be here” the tears keep coming.

His lips are pressed into a tight line, and he silently pats the spot next to him on the ground. You hesitantly move to sit next to him and silence falls. This should be ideal. You’ve been wanting a moment alone with him all week so you could explain yourself. Now, you’re here and it feels like you’ve forgotten every word you know.

You manage to muster a small ‘sorry’.

“It’s okay. I’m…happy for you.” You can see on his face how the word ‘happy’ leaves a disgusting taste in his mouth.

“Please don’t be” your head falls into your hands and Neteyam is watching you waiting for you to elaborate. “I didn’t promise myself to Ralu. I never chose to be with him. My parents arranged the whole thing because I refused to have anyone else besides you, but they didn’t think you were coming back.” Your eyes burn from the tears. You turn your head to look at him and the tears in his eyes are beginning to overflow so you reach out to touch his face. “I never stopped believing that you’d come back for me ‘Teyam.” Your lip quivers shaking your words.

“So, what should we do?” his voice is barely above a whisper.

“I’m not sure, but I do know that you’ve always been the only one for me. It’s us. It was always supposed to be us. You are everything to me, Neteyam and I can’t lose you. Not again. I want to try. I want to fight for us.” Your free hand finds his and now you are both fully facing each other.

He breathes out a deep sigh letting his forehead fall forward to rest on yours. Eywa, he’s even pretty when he cries. Everything about him is perfect and magnetic. Without even trying, he just captivates you and draws you in more and more. Before you even realize it, your lips are hovering just over his. His eyes are fixated on your lips, “We shouldn’t” he whispers.

“Then stop me.”

You let your lips touch his tenderly in a small, quick peck. But when you move back, he chases after you, capturing your lips again. The kiss is feverish and impatient. Right now, nothing else matters in your mind besides pressing as close to Neteyam as physically possible. Your hands busy themselves running through his hair, but he keeps his hands resting on your waist. You decide to take the initiative and guide one of his hands to cup your breast. “Neteyam, touch me.” Your eyes are pleading and your words are breathless. You can physically feel him give in to his impulses and allow his hands to roam up and down the curves of your body. His lips leave yours only to find your neck and trail kisses up and down your skin. Your skin is on fire in every spot he touches. His sharp canines graze your earlobe making you shiver in his arms. You can’t stop the small moans that flow from your mouth and every sound just eggs him on even more. He wants to hear all the sweet sounds you can make.

He pushes forward to lay you down on the ground and holds himself above you. His arms hook themselves under your thighs and a small moan leaves your lips feeling the pressure his hips put on yours. He rubs the entirety of his length along your soaked core. Even through the cloth, he can feel the heat that you radiate. His hips buck into you harder when you drag your nails down his back. His tip bumps and slides against your clit in just the right way and it makes your legs twitch with every impact. You can’t help it as your mind sinks further into your lustful haze and you allow yourself to dive deeper.

“Neteyam…I want you.” His whole body stills and pulls away to look you in the eye. You can read the hesitation in his expression. It’s as if your words have finally snapped him out of the trance you pulled him into. “We can’t” he whispers and your face falls. He backs up off of you and lets you sit back up while you take a moment to steady your breathing and calm your hormones.

“Am I no good?” His face softens, “Oh, ma girl, it is not because I don’t want to. I can’t think of a single thing I want more. But I want to do it the right way. I want to properly court you and publicly show how I feel about you and that’s not possible right now.”

You can’t help the way your tail swishes back and forth with excitement at hearing him call you his girl again. Oh, how you missed hearing it. He notices and a small smile tugs on his lips. You knew that Neteyam was very traditional when it came to these kinds of things and he wanted to do it right and you understood that.

“We will figure something out together. I will fight with you. I am a warrior, you know.” He playfully holds his head high reenacting the way you first met. It’s enough to make you giggle and lighten the mood. He was good at things like that.

“Okay, well, for right now, could you just hold me? I’m not ready to go back yet.” Who knows when you’ll be able to get another chance to be alone with him again? If Ralu had anything to say about it, you’d stay glued to his side at every hour of the day and night.

“Of course, tíyawn.” Neteyam sits cross legged and opens his arms out towards you inviting you in. You happily crawl into his lap and let his arms become a fortress around you while you snuggle into his chest.

…

The following day is the same routine that you’ve been caught in lately. The second you step out of your home, Ralu is there to greet you and accompany you on all your daily tasks. However, there is one thing that is different today. His demeanor is odd today. Any other day, he’s constantly smiling and touching you and almost annoyingly upbeat. He was none of those things today. He was solemn and reserved, barely even looking you in the face. It was odd, but a welcome change in your mind.

At the communal dinner, Ralu sits right next to you just like he’s done every day for the past week. On the other side of the fire, the Sully family is eating and chatting with each other. Of course, your eyes are locked on Neteyam. You notice how his tail taps the ground when he laughs hard at something Lo’ak said. It was a cute little habit he’s had since you were children. It brings a small smile to your face and Neteyam looks over at you. Heat races to your cheeks from being caught staring and you drop your eyes quickly to your food in front of you. Unbeknownst to you, Ralu caught the whole interaction.

He huffs and sets his food down, “Can we go talk somewhere? Alone.”

His tone is dead serious. It’s unnerving since you’ve never seen him without his super polite, friendly aura. You hesitantly nod your head and follow his lead away from the crowd.

Neteyam watches the two of you leave dinner and he lets out a big sigh. It still hurt his heart, but he knew he needed to be patient with the situation that you were currently in.

Ralu leads you back to your tent and since your parents were at dinner, you’d have some privacy to talk about whatever he wanted. He stomps through the entrance and you follow behind him. The second you’re away from any prying eyes, he whips around to face you, “What the hell is your problem?”

“Excuse me?” you question stunned at his sudden flip.

“I have been nothing but kind to you and done my best to show you that I could be a caring mate, have I not?” he moves closer to you and his stance is intimidating towering over you. You try to take a step back, but he forcefully grabs your wrist to hold you in place.

“Let go.” You try to pull free, but his grip just tightens. “You’re hurting me!”

“You think I am stupid? You think I don’t know what you’re up to?” he spits.

“What are y—”

“Cut the shit. I can smell him on you. You think I don’t see how he looks at you?” he’s seething in front of you and throws you by your arm to the floor.

You’re terrified now, but your body won’t move. Why won’t your legs move? Move! Run! Scream! Get out of here! And yet, your body is at a complete standstill. Ralu kneels down to your level and snatches your face to look him in the eye.

“Let’s get one thing clear: you belong to me. And I do not like to share. So, you are going to tell your boyfriend that whatever the fuck you’ve got going on, is done. Understand me?”

You yank your face back from his grasp and let off a loud warning hiss at him. This sets him off.

He scoffs in disbelief to himself before standing over you again.

“You little bitch.” He sneers before he raises his fist.

#avatar #avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #avatar fic #awow #neteyam x na'vi!reader #atwow #atwow neteyam #avatar twow #avatar neteyam #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan

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folklorianhaze · 11 months

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Should I be extra bad and let you guys have a preview of my modern day elucien multichapter??? 😈

...

okay I need no convincing imma do it

(For context, Elain and Lucien have just had a messy almost-hookup after Elain, still grieving her breakup with Graysen from several months ago, got drunk at Feyre and Rhys’ wedding. This scene is the morning after, and the whole fic will be told with chapters that alternate between past and present, filling out the gaps in Elain and Lucien’s friendship to eventual developing feelings for each other, as we piece together how they got to this point and how they’ll move forward!)

OCTOBER

Listen. We should probably talk about last night.

Elain Archeron squinted through bleary, swollen eyes at the too-bright screen of her phone, staring directly at but somehow failing to comprehend the words occupying the little blue text bubble. Trying her level best to ignore the name attached to the top of the thread, reminding her against her will of the sender.

And then, beneath the first message, a follow-up that somehow felt even more humiliating than its predecessor:

I know you’re going through a lot right now — I don’t want to pressure you at all. But I don’t like the way we left things.

Somewhere beneath the dull pressure steadily building in her head, she managed to muster up enough shame that her face burned. The tone of the messages alone said enough about her behavior last night that she wanted nothing more than to chuck her phone out of her fifth-story apartment window (and then maybe back her car up over the wreckage just to be sure.)

As polite and careful as his words were, it was all too obvious — he was worried about her. Did he pity her, perhaps, for the emotional wreck she’d been lately? She wasn’t sure which option made her feel worse.

Although Elain supposed she couldn’t entirely blame him for showing concern. Last night, she’d . . . she shook her head and grimaced, as if she could clear her mind of the foggy memories that still lingered. And each snippet she recalled proved all the more embarrassing. To say she hadn’t been herself would have been the understatement of the century. She hardly ever drank, let alone to that extent. She wasn’t entirely sure what had possessed her to behave in such a way — and in public! At her sister’s wedding!

Just perfect, Elain, she thought, the oily, queasy feeling returning to the pit of her stomach with a vengeance. I’m sure Feyre appreciated your hysterics so much on the happiest night of her life.

She’d be sure to call her sister later and apologize. Profusely. She couldn’t remember exactly if she’d made a huge scene in her drunken stupor, but she supposed it didn’t hurt to cover all her bases. But her damage control would have to wait for later, when the headache inevitably receded and she had to face the consequences of her actions in the harsh light of day. It was just as well — Feyre and Rhys were undoubtedly still traveling to their luxurious tropical honeymoon destination, and wouldn’t take kindly to any interruptions.

Not that she was entirely sure if she wanted to interrupt them later, either.

Elain let out a slow exhale, shifting in her soft bedsheets. She’d gotten accustomed to being in her apartment by herself lately, though lying in this bed alone still felt strangest of all. Sometimes in the middle of the night, she still found herself expecting to find Graysen’s sleeping form there, even though it had been months since they’d split. Months ago, and yet . . . here she was, acting like a reckless teenager. Acting messy. Her eyes began to sting, and she swallowed past a sudden tightness in her throat.

As she burrowed her face farther into the pillows, a thought occurred to her. How had she gotten home last night? Obviously, she’d been too drunk to drive herself, and she didn’t remember getting into Nesta’s car. Yet she’d woken up in her own bed, and vaguely remembered stumbling through the darkness of her bedroom and shucking off the dress she’d worn to Feyre’s wedding before plopping down onto the mattress.

The briefest flash of a memory — the sleek leather interior of a car, the blur of the highway through the passenger window, warm strains of Billie Holliday floating from the radio — an all-too-familiar woodsy, earthy scent that had made her feel so at home, nearly lulled her to sleep — a golden-brown hand reaching across to hold hers, his thumb gently stroking her knuckles —

— and a voice that twisted something in her chest, that made her ache to remember it: It’s okay, you’re okay, Elain. It’s going to be alright.

#acotar #elucien #i just feel in my soul like lucien would be a billie holliday kind of guy

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jamiesfootball · 4 months

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Deleted Scene

For the wonderful @alter-alterego who requested for a gift fic-

"a deleted scene: something that just isn't fitting in one of your fics, but you set it aside, hoping to make it work somewhere else" and "a fun way to repurpose some writing - especially if it was a whole "kill your babies" sort of edit that broke your heart to cut it."

-and also some other words were thrown around like hurt/comfort.

So the thing is that I uh.... did not have any deleted scenes.

So.

I wrote one!

This is a deleted scene from Jamie's pov during ch 1 of Oh God You're Gonna Get It (You Have Not Been Given Love), taking place after the conversation on the couch but before the match the next day.

I would not say it necessarily slots into place - it does not have nearly the runway to hit that level of emotional intensity. Instead, I treated it more like a character study, a way to get down a bit of my thoughts on the where Jamie is at now. Refurbishing some writing thought, if you will.

Unfortunately, I did forget some of the comfort here - but the rest of the fic will have lots of comfort so???

Anyways. Thank you for your delightful request, friend. I hope you enjoy.

When awareness crept in behind his sleep-sealed eyes, a handful of problems offered themselves up to Jamie like unwanted presents. The first was that he hadn't brushed his teeth the night before, and his mouth tasted rank and fuzzy as a result. The next, that dried blood caked the inside of his nostrils, leaving behind an unpleasant, iron-tanged stuffiness. Final and worst came a deep and throbbing pain centered around his nose, passing along the message that something was swollen, if not outright bruised.

He'd been handed these gifts before, but crucial pieces were missing from the set. In their place, he'd been given imposters. Restfulness, when it should feel like he'd run a marathon. Something content beckoning him back towards sleep, instead of a familiar set of knives stabbing him in the chest, urging him to go, get away, anywhere but here.

His head felt weighed down by wet, drooping cotton, and that was new too, and in some ways worse than the distant emptiness he'd grown to rely on. At least emptiness knew how to sort out an icepack. Or a concussion. Or whatever it was that had him feeling floaty and lost.

Where the hell was he?

He cracked open his eyes. He didn't recognize the room — which didn't mean much when everyone he knew had more house than they knew what to do with. Still, there was something familiar about it, something that quieted any lingering panic that he might've woken up in a stranger's home.

It was cozy, but clean. Dark, woodsy room with antique lamps — too tasteful for Colin, too muted for Isaac. Art too boring for Sam. Everything far too clean for Dani.

A fuzzy blanket tickled his nose. In the dim light filtering in through the windows, he could see it was covered in unicorns and rainbows, all of it swirling around in a dizzying pattern. Shutting his eyes tight, he tugged it closer; it was surprisingly warm.

The couch was comfier than his too, cradling his shoulder against the cushion instead of pushing his tendons up into his neck until all he had to show for it was a splitting headache. No, this was lush, pliable with age and use. The blanket worn soft like someone cared for it. Made it feel like this was someone's home that Jamie was invading, and that made him feel like, feel —

A sick certainty settled in his stomach that he'd regret everything more when it was light out. Morning Jamie could sort that out. He didn't envy that guy at all.

He chewed his lip, unable to stop picking at the problem. His mouth tasted sour, and the dry ache behind his eyes sang a familiar song. Nausea twisted low in his stomach, and finally there it was, the tightness circling his chest and pulling into a knot. The room smelled like beer—

"Want to grab a beer later?"

"I thought you said I couldn't have beer anymore."

"Well, you're with me, so you get a pass," Roy had said, and Jamie could've floated off the floor with how it made his chest puff up—

Oh.

This was Roy's house.

That's why his face hurt.

Jamie sighed, the building discomfort releasing in a wave of relief that left him dizzy, head floating above the soft cushions like he was balanced on a cloud.

He'd thought for a second-

He'd-

No. He'd been worried for nothing.

This was Roy's house. Made sense then, that his brain had picked up that he weren't anywhere bad. The dark furniture and the leather everything and the grainy wood; it was like the house and the man had been shaped out of the same men's catalogue from the eighties. Everything looked sturdy and settled in place.

He hadn't noticed the bright purple blanket last night, but then he couldn't have said what he did notice. They'd left the bar; everything past that was a whirlwind.

He owed Keeley an apology.

He frowned, worrying at the blanket with his thumb. He'd apologized to Roy. It'd went well, he thought. He hoped. He shouldn't get ahead of himself. He'd said a bunch of words without thinking them through first, and meaning them didn't stop it from feeling like he'd flayed some soft part of himself open with a knife and held out the scraps as a peace offering.

At least with Roy, he had a chance of being offered something back. Some reassurance, at least, that things weren't beyond repair. Whatever it was that brought that familiar growl down to something softer, still rough around the edges but not mean when he was making jokes, egging Jamie on and listening quiet thought while Jamie's thoughts spun circles across the carpet.

Letting Jamie say his peace. Accepting his apology for his behavior. Saying shit like, like he was proud of Jamie, even if Jamie hadn't done much to earn that lately.

Fuck.

And in the week since he'd sent that text to his dad, he hadn't gotten so much as a read receipt—

—which didn't mean anything, did it? Could be that he'd turned them off—

With a little shifting, he found his phone. He flicked it on, ignoring the familiar spike of panic as he did.

No new messages. Good.

Seven-percent battery life. Not good.

3:30 in the morning. Fuck.

Sighing, he switched it off. Looked like he was getting up.

He didn't move.

For once it wasn't the persistent, leaden feeling holding him down — like they'd taken every weight in the gym and tied it to his limbs when he wasn't looking. No, it was just, maybe if he didn't get up, last night wouldn't've happened.

A sickness, hot and sour, pooled in his stomach.

A week ago, he'd been at his mother's house, curled up and making the best out of whatever comfort he could drag towards him like a dying man. But this wasn't the same. He was a visitor here at best, his extended welcome debatable, and there was no one in this house obligated to brush his hair back and tell him if he was making a mistake.

Didn't mean he wouldn't take what he could get now that he'd earned his way in.

It was early. He was warm. Things hurt, but he was at Roy's. Nothing bad would find him here. Everything was fine and there were no unread messages waiting for him on his phone.

A warmed beer smell lingered in the air, musty and rank. He pushed his face further into the couch to get away from it. The couch smelled like old leather and glitter and fabric softener, and it didn't feel waxy or tacky against his skin and it molded around him like a hug. He didn't want to get up. He was tired.

He was so, so tired.

His undrunk beer sat on the table above his head. Now that he noticed the yeasty smell, it cloyed to the air, sinking into everything it touched.

He'd have to get up soon and deal with it. He had a lot of stuff to deal with. He didn't want Roy to think he couldn't handle it.

Since the boot room, he hadn't been able to shake the feeling that he'd gotten away with something. Roy had been nice. Too nice. The kind that had Jamie looking over his metaphoricle shoulder, waiting for the other boot to hit, because Jamie hadn't been professional about it at all. He'd collapsed in on himself, utterly crushed and incapable of hiding it another second, everything sticking and clawing out of him like a staunched wound fighting back.

But then Roy had been dead nice about it and he'd given him a pass and then he'd kept being nice and he'd invited Jamie out for a drink and Jamie had thought he was off the hook.

Knew better now, didn't he? He was on the hook, squirming as well as any other caught worm. The drinks hadn't been about Jamie, at least part of the niceness had been on loan, and his free pass had burned up in front of his eyes before he even knew he only had the one to spare.

Roy expected better of him.

That was fine. Jamie did too. He was up to the challenge; he knew what to avoid now. So in twenty minutes he’d get up. He’d take care of the beer bottles, rinse ‘em out in case Roy was one of those guys that got offended if you wasted his beer. With his phone battery low, he didn't have the juice to call for a pick up — he’d have to make the thirty-minute trek to his house. Unless he got lucky and stumbled across a taxi, that'd put him back at his own place in just under an hour. From there he’d dig out the white vinegar that he kept on hand for emergencies and see if he couldn’t buff out the stain on his chest. Stone Island wasn’t exactly his brand of choice, and they weren't interested in signing him on as a permanent brand ambassador, but they'd been pleasant to work with and they paid well and he’d only had the jacket for three days and he hadn’t been papped in it yet and it’d be fucking embarrassing for everyone involved if he went crying to them that he’d need a new one cause he’d already ruined the first one.

(He'd still do it if he had to though -- it wouldn’t be the first time a little blood threatened a brand deal.) No, one way or another he’d be getting that stain out, didn’t matter how much scrubbing it took. From there he’d inspect whatever was going on with his face. That didn’t bother him as much. Nothing felt broken, and he knew how to make himself look photo-ready for the match. All the small speed bumps sorted, he’d start in on his match day warmups. Nothing intense, just enough to loosen his muscles up.

His socked foot poked out of the bottom of the blanket. He twisted his ankle experimentally. Slowly, it cranked through the rotations, gummy and awkward like stuck hands on a clock. A lot tighter than it should be. Physios wouldn't be happy with him, but that worry came as an afterthought. He'd play the full ninety. They all knew it.

After warmups, he'd take a shower— His eyes stung, suddenly hot and warm. He pulled the blanket tighter around himself. He’d take a shower; do the whole routine. Wasn’t happening again. Loud and clear. From there he’d pop round to Nelson road. Bit early, even for him, but he hoped to catch Ted before the coach got swept up in pressers and the like. He wanted to thank him, properly, for all he’d done to help Jamie and straighten him out over the years. He knew Lasso had a busy schedule and a quick turnaround to get home, and Jamie wouldn’t take up too much of his time. He just- he needed to say it. He had his fingers crossed that it’d be one of their better talks — the kind that left him feeling pleased with himself and a bit like he could float on air — instead of one of the awkward, stilted ones that fizzled out between his fingers and left him feeling wrong-footed and confused, like he'd put his elbows on the table or committed some other social fake paw that he was supposed to know about by now.

But just in case it did go like that, he'd still have said it, and he’d still have left himself plenty of time to screw his head on before the match. He was a professional after all. Give him a few minutes recovery in the storage room that wasn't Higgins' office anymore, and by the time the lads started filtering in, he’d be fine. Then they’d start the real pre-match march. Light workout and pre-game presser. Meal time, then the real warmups, the ones meant to get your blood flowing and your food settled. Cleanup, out of practice kit, into training kit. Let the physios at him again with their magic tape. Into the tunnel to mingle with the reporters: soundbites, heart-warming stories, all the patter ('Why, yes, West Ham has played a strong year, 'course I’ve got my eye on City-always do, don’t I? No I don’t give a flying fuck if Zava’s got a scorpion named after him now, fuck off—") Well hopefully no one’d ask him about Zava. Not a match had passed without some journo brining him up, but maybe the possibility of them winning the league would be enough to shut them up for once, instead of it turning into yet another retrospective on how Zava's head start was the reason the team had made it this far in the rankings. Pricks. Then it’d be speech time. Jamie didn’t understand what it was about gaffers and speeches, but they’d seemed to all agree in their mysterious gaffer ways that it was the one time you were allowed to be emotional in front of the players. Ted usually didn’t have that problem, but he certainly never shied away from the chance to one-up himself with a game day speech. It was sure to be a good one. Then nothing else would matter, cause there’d be the match. Everything made sense on the pitch.

Jamie knew what he had to do on the pitch. Nothing could touch him on the pitch.

No one was ever waiting for him on the pitch. He wondered if they won, if he’d come back to find a message on his phone. He wondered if they lost, if he’d come back to find a message on his phone. He checked his phone again. 3:50am. 6% battery. He turned off the screen and shut his eyes. In ten minutes, he’d get up. Sort out his life. Win the league. In ten minutes. Until then, he’d try to enjoy what he had. Warm blanket. A nice place to sleep. No new messages on his phone. An ankle and a nose that weren’t broken. People who’d welcomed him inside. People who'd forgiven him for his mistakes. It was enough.

He just had to make sure he didn't mess it up.

#gift fic #fic: oh god you're gonna get it (you have not been given love)#jamie tartt #roy kent #ted lasso fic #fuck jamie's dad #injury #fic: deleted scene

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cuddlepilefics · 5 months

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Calming incense

Fandom: Ateez

Sickie: Mingi

Caregivers: Ateez

Mingi gets an anxious stomachache and Seonghwa wants to help

No one’s pov.:

“Hey, you good?”, Yunho asked softly as he took a seat next to Mingi when they finally got a ten minute break during dance practice. The rapper had been awfully quiet all morning and according to Seonghwa, he had skipped breakfast that morning. Mingi gave a curt nod but his face remained tense. That was when Yunho noticed the arm his dongsaeng had wrapped around his middle. His hand trembled ever so slightly when he reached for his water bottle and took a tentative sip. Their break would be over soon and Mingi didn’t feel like moving at all. He had had a hard time sleeping the previous night, his thoughts way too loud and too fast for him to doze off. At some point during the night, a dull ache had formed in his stomach. By the time he had to get up, the pain had transformed into cramps, sharp stabs of pain shooting across his abdomen. With how little sleep he had gotten, his head was pounding and he craved a cup of coffee to ease the pain and clear the exhausted daze in his head but he knew he wouldn’t be doing his cramping stomach any favors and his heart was already racing, so coffee was out of question.

Their break was almost over when Mingi finally dared to make eye contact with his friend, muttering: “Couldn’t sleep and my stomach hurts.” – “How bad is it?”, Yunho whispered, glancing at the clock. The rapper shrugged. He knew he wasn’t sick, which was exactly why he hadn’t mentioned it. Releasing a shaky breath, Mingi admitted: “’s an anxious tummyache.” He picked at his nails, glancing towards the practice room floor. “’m really on edge an’ not sleeping didn’t help”, he breathed, “My head hurts and I’m exhausted but too restless to sleep.” – “Do you need a break?”, Yunho asked gently, “I could talk to Hongjoong-hyung for you if you can’t. I don’t mind.” The younger shook his head and closed his eyes focusing on his breath to slow it down a little. Forcing a smile, Mingi hummed: “I appreciate it but I can keep going. It’s only dance practice and a songwriting session with Hongjoong-hyung later. No public appearances or anything, I’ll be okay.”

With the way Mingi moved as the continued their practice, the rest of the group soon caught on to his stomach ache. They’d be on their lunch break soon and the rapper was dreading it. He still had no appetite but he knew he couldn’t miss another meal. Maybe one of the members had some painkillers with him, so he’d at least be able to take something for the headache. When they split up for lunch, Mingi didn’t choose what he wanted to eat so much as he chose who he wanted to eat with. He simply tagged along with Yunho, Yeosang and Jongho, not caring where they’d go as long as he was with them. Yunho stayed close to him when he put on his mask and beanie, pulling his hood up to shield as much of his face from view as possible.

Yunho comfortingly squeezed Mingi’s thigh under the table, his heart aching as he watched his friend force down a small serving of plain rice while his stomach churned. “Does any of you have any painkillers with you? My head’s thumping”, the rapper muttered. Taking a moment to swallow, Jongho hummed: “Yeah, I have. Is that all that’s bothering you, do you need anything else?” – “My tummy hurts but it’s not bad enough to take anything for it”, Mingi admitted with a forced smile as he watched the maknae rummage through his bag. He muttered a pathetic ‘thanks’ when Jongho handed him a pill and quickly downed it with a few sips of water.

When they made their way back to the company building, Mingi regretted that he hadn’t asked Jongho for something to soothe his stomach. He wasn’t sure whether his small meal would settle alright, for now it felt weird and the frequent cramps caused him to walk with a bit of a limp. Luckily, he wouldn’t have to move much for the rest of the day. A real smile tugged at his lips when he sat down in his seat next to Hongjoong and the leader handed him a paper cup of tea. He wasn’t one to be openly affectionate with the members but he did care for them in more subtle ways. Thanking the older quietly, Mingi took a sip and recognized the taste. It was a herbal tea blend similar to the one he occasionally drank when he got anxiety-induced stomachaches. The somewhat familiar taste grounded him and he allowed his rigid back to sink against the back rest.

The rest of the day passed faster than Mingi had expected and he was able to lose himself in his work now that the headache had improved. The cramps weren’t as bad anymore but he still yearned to get back to his dorm. When they packed up and parted ways to head to their individual dorms, Mingi was exhausted, even more so than he had been that morning, big surprise. He heard the shower running when he opened the front door, San getting ready for bed while Seonghwa bustled around the kitchen. The oldest seemed relieved to see him, glad the rapper was finally home after not feeling well all day. Hongjoong had texted him earlier, informing that he had gotten Mingi to eat dinner and that he had been doing a little better for the time that he had been distracted.

Now, Mingi looked ready to drop though. The lack of sleep taking its toll on him. It didn’t stop him from chatting with Seonghwa for a few minutes, dreading to go to bed and be alone with his thoughts again. “Oh, I picked something up for you while we were out on our break”, his hyung smiled, pulling out a small cylindrical box, “It’s lavender incense, supposed to be calming and help you sleep.” – “Thank you, hyung”, Mingi breathed, opening the box to sniff it. The scent was a little more intense than he had expected, making his nose tingle. They shared a cup of tea before Mingi got ready for bed, lighting the incense on his desk.

Surprisingly, it had taken Mingi barely any time at all to fall asleep. He only stayed asleep for two hours though. When he tried to open his eyes to the darkness of his room, his eyelids felt sticky and he rubbed them sluggishly, blinking a couple of times. His head was heavy, barely wanting to leave the pillow. Sniffling thickly, Mingi propped himself up. The motion shifted the congestion in his sinuses, causing his nose to run. When he reached for a tissue from the box on his nightstand and tried to blow his nose, he had to realize that breathing through his nose had become all but impossible. After messily swiping at his nose, Mingi flopped back down and groaned hoarsely, his throat itching.

His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton but he knew he had to get up and get some water. Sitting up, he gave a scratchy cough and nudged his wrist under his nose before trying to stand. He struggled to find his balance, the ground tilting weirdly under his feet. Shuffling to the kitchen took what felt like an eternity and Mingi found himself panting as he leant against the kitchen counter. His breath hitched, a trembling hand hovering in front of his face as he grabbed a glass from the cupboard.

Mingi feared he’d wake his friends if he sneezed, so he pinched his nose shut, harshly twisting to the side, stifling two forceful sneezes that made his eyes water. Although he had managed to be almost completely silent, his grip on the glass hadn’t been all that secure and it ended up crashing to the tiles. Small shards of glass covered the kitchen floor and Mingi stood frozen in his spot. The noise of the glass shattering must have woken his friends for sure and he was about ready to cry from frustration. Worse was that he stood there barefoot, eyes watering while his vision was already blurry without his glasses. There was no way he’d be able to move without stepping into the glass and cutting himself.

Before the rapper could despair completely, Seonghwa trudged down the hallway, stifling a yawn against his fist. Having woken up to a fairly loud crash, the oldest had gone to check what was going on. “You okay, Mingi-yah?”, Seonghwa hummed, voice still thick with sleep. Mingi nodded, sniffling: “Sorry, I-I dropped my glass.” Putting on his slippers, Seonghwa clicked his tongue and reached for the broom. He handed Mingi his own pair of slippers and while the younger put them on, he cleared a path out of the kitchen. “I’ll take care of the shards in a second but would you tell me what’s going on? You look awful… sound it too”, Seonghwa breathed, feeling his dongsaeng’s forehead when the rapper had joined him outside the kitchen. Blearily squinting at the older, Mingi admitted: “Woke up like this. Mby ndose is blocked. Odly dropped the glass ‘cause I ndeeded to sdeeze. Throat’s itchy too.” - “Yeah, I can most definitely hear that”, Seonghwa cooed, “Luckily, you don’t have a fever, so why don’t you go sit on the couch while I take care of this? I’ll get you some water afterwards.” Mingi’s chest tightened. Not only had he woken his hyung up with his clumsiness, now the older also had to clean up after him. Knowing his clumsiness would probably only make the situation worse, Mingi gave a defeated nod and trudged to the living room.

“hESH! h-hESSH!” – “Bless you”, Seonghwa hummed, handing him a tissue. The oldest had just finished sweeping up the glass and joined Mingi in the living room. Failing to blow his nose due to the pressure in his sinuses, the rapper sniffled and glanced at his hyung with watering eyes. Seonghwa offered him some water and frowned: “This seemed to have come completely out of nowhere. How does your tummy feel? Maybe it wasn’t an anxious stomachache after all.” – “My tummy doesn’t hurt adymore”, Mingi mumbled, palming his middle, “It just feels weird a’d fluttery.” Rubbing his eyes, the rapper added: “My face a’d throat feel like it could be allergies but it’s winter a’d I dod’t know what I could possibly be allergic to.” The older furrowed his brows, thinking hard.

“Did you try the incense tonight?”, Seonghwa guessed because his dongsaeng was right, there wasn’t much he could be reacting to at this time of year. Mingi’s puffy eyes widened at that and he gave a nod before sipping some more water to soothe his throat. Guiltily biting his lip, Seonghwa muttered: “I’ll fetch you an antihistamine and remove the incense from your room. You shouldn’t go back there to sleep though. Not sure you should stay here at the dorm at all till we have thoroughly aired it out. Maybe you could call Yunho and ask if you can stay at his dorm for a bit.” – “Thagks”, Mingi rasped, “Could you grab mby phone from mby room too? I thigk getting out of here for a bit would be for the best.”

Seonghwa soon found himself on his way to take Mingi over to the dorm Yunho shared with Yeosang, not trusting the rapper to get there safely on his own. “Hey, I picked out a change of clothes you can borrow”, Yunho greeted sleepily as he let the two in, “You still smell faintly of incense smoke, so why don’t you go and take a shower. The clothes are on the sink.” – “Thagks”, Mingi mumbled hoarsely, clearing his throat. While he went to take a shower, Seonghwa explained what had happened and smiled when Yeosang joined him and Yunho, yawning: “There’s tea in the kitchen. Did he already take an antihistamine?” The oldest nodded, recalling what exactly Mingi had taken. “I have stronger ones”, Yeosang hummed, “I’ll put them next to the tea, so he can take it later if the one he took don’t help enough.” – “Thanks, Yeosang-ah. You wouldn’t have had to get up along with me when you heard me walking around but I appreciate that you did”, Yunho smiled, making the other blush, “I got him from here, so if the two of you want to go back to bed….”

Yeosang went to bed, while Seonghwa stayed a little longer, wanting to apologize for making his dongsaeng sick. Mingi wasn’t expecting him to still be around when he shuffled out of the bathroom, wearing Yunho’s clothes. “I’m not going to hug you because there’s probably incense smoke in my clothes too but know that I’m really sorry”, Seonghwa whispered, “I wanted to help and did the exact opposite.” – “Actually, hyung”, Mingi sniffled, “I fell asleep pretty much instantly and my stomachache is gone now. Admit it, your plan was to distract my mind enough, so it can’t spiral anymore.” The older laughed at that: “Yup, that’s exactly what I was going for. You caught me but you should really get some sleep now. Both of you.” They parted ways, Seonghwa heading back to his dorm, while Yunho guided Mingi to his room and handed him the tea Yeosang had prepared. The two chatted for a few minutes while the rapper sipped his tea before they switched off the lights and cuddled close.

Mingi’s sleep remained fitful the struggle to breathe through his blocked nose frequently waking him. An hour before Yunho’s alarm was set to go off, the dancer retrieved Yeosang’s antihistamines and encouraged his friend to take one as his condition hadn’t really improved yet. They didn’t go back to sleep after that, opting to just take the time to prepare a nourishing breakfast, despite Mingi not being able to taste much. Yeosang really appreciated waking up to freshly prepared breakfast though, while Mingi felt a sense of achievement starting the day like that, no matter how tired he was.

Soon, the medication kicked in though and Mingi grew drowsy as they were driven to the company building. Yawning, he rested his head on Yunho’s shoulder and closed his eyes, which were still puffy but fortunately not as itchy anymore. He could hear some of the members talking in hushed voices but was too out of it to comprehend what they were saying. Hesitantly tapping Yunho’s leg, Yeosang whispered: “Why did you bring him along if he took that strong pill, hyung?” The dancer gave him a confused look, so the younger elaborated: “They’re really strong and you’re knocked out not long after taking them. He’ll have a hard time staying awake at all, let alone be functional and able to work.” – “I didn’t know”, Yunho muttered, cursing silently, “I thought it’d make him fine.” Yeosang shook his head, apologizing that he had assumed they knew the side effects and didn’t warn them. “We only have meetings till noon, so I could check if there’s a free studio where he can nap”, Hongjoong offered, “We’ll see if he’s up for practice after lunch, when he had a couple hours of sleep. If not, I’ll call for a driver to take him home.”

Mingi woke himself up with a stuffy sneeze only two minutes before the car pulled up to the building. Lifting his head, he turned his face down and realized a moment too late that he was aiming for Yunho’s lap. “hEGSHU! Oh mby god I-I’b s-sorr-y hih- h-hESSH!” – “Bless you”, the dancer whispered, rubbing his dongsaeng’s back as the younger sniffled sleepily, “You can go back to sleep soon. Hongjoong-hyung will find an empty studio for you to lay down. I’m sorry, I didn’t know the side effects would be so strong. I wouldn’t have dragged you out of bed if I did.” – “Ndo, I’b okay”, Mingi insisted but he could barely keep his eyes from closing again. Yeosang made eye contact with Yunho and lightly shook his head. Mingi really shouldn't have to suffer through hours of meetings like this if his attendance wasn’t absolutely necessary. It got even more evident when Mingi got out of the car and stumbled, barely able to coordinate his feet. Yunho was quick to catch him around the waist and San took the rapper’s arm to guide him into the building.

They eventually had Mingi situated on a couch in an empty studio and Jongho draped his long coat over the rapper as a blanket. The rapper was out almost as soon as his friends closed the door and only woke when Wooyoung and Jongho came to check on him during their lunch break. His fellow maknaes had gotten him fried chicken for lunch and kept him company while he ate. “I’m really okay now”, the rapper smiled, “I can breathe through my nose again and the itchiness is gone. Yeah, I’m still tired but the comfortable, drowsy kind, not the exhausted and overwhelmed one. I kinda like it actually. Seems like Seonghwa-hyung’s incense did help my anxiety after all.”

#ateez #fanfic #fluff #comfort #fanfiction #sickfic #sick #snz #snzblr

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silvfyre-writings · 8 months

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My Head Hurts (BSD Fanfic)

I wanted to thank you all for reading this fic, even though I'm sure it's not my best one. I had an idea, wrote the first part, and then just kinda, idk, lost the bunnies. But I wanted some caring ADA towards Ranpo, so that's what I did. Besides, it's fanfiction, it's free, and it doesn't have to be great lol.

As long as I enjoy it, and you enjoy it, that's all the matters really.

Anyway, that's all I really want to say, so thank you all for reading, and I'll see you in the next fic!

Ranpo was twelve when he experienced his first migraine.

A headache so intense that he hadn’t been able to so much as open his eyes, let alone leave his bed that day. It felt like his neighbour had smashed their axe against his skull and then just left it there, that was how much it hurt. And on top of that, there was the nausea, and the exhaustion, and really, it just sucked. It was the worst thing he’d ever experienced in his life. The only good thing that had come from this headache—he hadn’t yet known what they were called—was that his mother had walked into his room, taken one look at him and then smothered him in love and attention. It’d made the headache much more bearable to know that someone was there, helping him to bear the burden.

And then his parents died.

And there was no one.

The second time Ranpo experienced a migraine—he now knew what they were, courtesy of his parents—he’d been at the police academy, in the middle of class, and the pain had been so intense that his brain had elected to just shut down rather than even try and deal with it, and he’s passed out. In the middle of class. That all his classmates witnessed. He awoke a few hours later in the infirmary, his head still trying to split itself open, and all he could do was stay still until the nurse noticed that he was awake; she forced him to take some pills that he somehow managed to swallow, nearly gagging as they slid down his throat. After that, he’d been left alone, in a room that wasn’t nearly dark enough, until the pills—painkillers he’d realized afterwards—kicked in and his head hurt a little less.

The third time was the worst time, at least, in his opinion, because he’d been on the streets when it’d hit, and there’d been nothing he could do but curl up in the darkest corner that he could find, and cry over how much it hurt. Because all he could really do was cry; sleep was impossible, it was too bright, too noisy, too painful, and there was no one around that he knew well enough to ask for help from. Sure, he could’ve used the last of the money he’d earnt from his last job to pay for a doctor’s visit, but it’d been four days since his last meal, so he’d gone without. Not that he could bring himself to even buy food, what with the way his stomach was rolling. And by the time the migraine had passed, it’d taken another day before he had the strength to drag himself out of his little corner and back into the world.

After that, whenever another migraine came along, unless he was throwing up or physically unable to see, he forced himself to keep going; they happened with enough frequency, that if he laid in the corner of some alleyway until they passed, he would’ve starved to death long ago. And while Ranpo was starting to think that it would simply be easier to just give up and die, he kept on going. It was hard at times, to keep working through the pain that threatened to bring him to his knees, yet he managed. Barely.

And yet, despite his determination, his life only continued to get worse.

Until Fukuzawa.

The first time he’d experienced a migraine under Fukuzawa’s care, had been two weeks into living with the man. For two weeks, Ranpo had kept his head down and stayed quiet; Fukuzawa had already done so much for him, giving him a place to live, a place to sleep, along with clothes and food, and he really didn’t want to lose that. So, he kept to himself and kept his head down to avoid invoking Fukuzawa’s wrath. But then, in the middle of the night, two weeks into this new living arrangement, he’d woken up to nausea so intense, that he was barely able to process the feeling, let alone the sensation of his skull being smashed between two buildings, before his dinner made its acquaintance with himself and his sheets.

And just because Ranpo’s luck couldn’t possibly get any worse, Fukuzawa woke up.

There was an apology spilling from his lips the moment his bedroom door cracked open, and tears in his eyes because he truly felt awful, because there was nothing fun about throwing up, especially over oneself, and not to mention, he’d woken Fukuzawa from his own sleep. Yet Fukuzawa hadn’t looked mad. In fact, he’d looked concerned, worried even, but that couldn’t be right. Because Fukuzawa was stoic and firm, and this was a new and familiar side to the man that Ranpo hadn’t witnessed before in the short time they’d known each other. And that scared him.

But it was also a lie, since he’d seen that same worry and concern back at the warehouse after he’d nearly died.

However, his head was hurting far too much to think much about it.

Ranpo watched with wide eyes as Fukuzawa took in the scene before him, although he had to close his eyes when the nausea decided to make a reappearance. A cruel thing for his body to do, really, when he’d already thrown up everything he’d eaten. He heard footsteps approach, barely audible to most, but like a timpani to him, and soon he was being lifted and carried. The next few moments blurred together, Ranpo drifting somewhere between conscious and not, but he did remember the distinct feeling of something cold dragging across his skin, bringing with it, utter relief.

Awareness returned to him when he was lifted again, and he blinked once, letting out a whimper when a harsh light assaulted him. The light vanished, but the pain had already increased, and he couldn’t stop the tears from falling. He heard Fukuzawa say something, the words indistinguishable, but oh so gentle and soothing, and Ranpo cried just that little bit harder. Which only made his head pound that much harder.

He felt himself lowered back into bed—at some point, Fukuzawa must’ve changed the sheets, but he couldn’t remember his guardian leaving his side—and the actions were so soft and kind, that Ranpo couldn’t help but let out a sob when he was tucked in. It’d been so long since he’d last experienced such kindness, and it was just so, so overwhelming, especially in his current state where his senses and his emotions were heightened. Still, Fukuzawa said nothing, he just sat on the edge of his bed and wiped away the tears that fell with his sleeve until finally, he drifted off.

When he woke, an hour later, Fukuzawa was still there on the edge of the bed, and dozing himself, but now there was a glass of water, along with a couple of painkillers sitting on his bedside table that Ranpo didn’t hesitate to reach for. His head still felt like it was being stabbed—or being electrocuted, but the point was his head really fucking hurt, and he was honestly desperate for any kind of relief at this point. And while he normally struggled to swallow pills, this time he didn’t, taking them easily before he laid back down, his movements disturbing Fukuzawa from his rest.

“How do you feel?” Fukuzawa asked, voice muffled and quiet, yet still loud, in the sea of pain that was Ranpo’s head. A warm hand rested upon his forehead, the touch gentle and soothing, chasing away some of the tension in his body.

He blinked once, eyes heavy, and grunted, unable to do much more than that. He certainly didn’t feel great, and would very much rather be sleeping off this latest migraine of his, but here he was, awake and hurting, and also burdening someone else with his problems. “’m fine…” Ranpo mumbled. “Jus’ a headache…”

Fukuzawa hummed, and his hand fell away. “I’ll grab an ice pack for you. It might help.”

Ranpo liked to think he made some kind of noise in response to Fukuzawa’s statement, but he honestly couldn’t remember. One second, Fukuzawa was there and the next he was gone, only to return shortly after with an ice pack in hand that was quickly settled on his aching skull. The chill chased away the pain to bring him some relief, enough that he could close his eyes and finally drift back to sleep, and as the last of his consciousness faded, he wished to sleep through the rest of this migraine.

Apparently the gods had decided to be merciful for a change, because he did end up sleeping through the rest of the pain, waking up two days later with just a dull ache behind his eyes, to see Fukuzawa asleep on the spare futon next to his bed that the older man must’ve rolled out at some point while he’d been unaware of the world. Seeing Fukuzawa by his side like that, brought a warm feeling to his chest, and he closed his eyes again with the intention of getting some more rest; he managed to get another hour of rest before he woke and saw that Fukuzawa was also awake.

And that meant it was time for his least favourite pastime.

Talking.

If there was one thing Ranpo didn’t like doing, it was talking about himself. Sure, he didn’t mind bragging about his ability and powers of deduction to those that would listen, but there was a difference between talking about his ability, and talking about his migraines. Because his ability was a strength. It was something good that he could use to help other people. It was what made him, him. But the migraines he’d just one day started having? They weren’t good at all. How could they be, when all they did was stop him from functioning? How were migraines supposed to help the people that came to him? The answer was, they weren’t, which was why Ranpo still hadn’t said anything as he and Fukuzawa sat next to each other—well, Fukuzawa sat, Ranpo laid beside him with a cold towel covering his eyes to further dull the ache behind his eyes that continues to cling.

“You have a doctor’s appointment this afternoon.” Fukuzawa murmured, the quiet tone he took on at just the right volume to be comfortable instead of painful. “They’ll find out if there’s a reason behind your migraines—” Of course Fukuzawa had figured out that this wasn’t the first migraine he’d had. Nothing got past the man and his observation skills apparently. “—and treat them if there is.”

Ranpo grunted, almost certain that a doctor wouldn’t be able to help him. Because if a doctor was actually capable of curing these migraines, then surely his parents would’ve dragged him to the local village doctor to help him? They had loved him, they had cared for him, so why hadn’t they taken him to the doctor when he’d had that first migraine? Sure, it’d been the only one he’d had with them, but it’d been the most pain he’d ever been in his life, and they just… hadn’t taken him. Why? Why hadn’t they? Had they truly loved him? Or was he just imagining that love? It would make sense, it really would, looking back on it now, and he—

A hand threaded through his hair, dragging him away from his spiralling thoughts and bringing him back to the present. Fukuzawa’s voice worked further to ground him, and he rolled over to grab at Fukuzawa’s yukata, hiding his face against the man’s leg. The hand in his hair moved to readjust the cloth so it was covering his eyes. “Ranpo?”

He let out a whine this time. “Yeah?”

“You’ll be okay.”

“Really?” Ranpo asked, uncertain, because no one had ever tried to help him, so he couldn’t understand why Fukuzawa was so willing to do what everyone else had failed to do.

“Yes.” Fukuzawa’s hand returned to his hair, fingers moving through his hair. “You’ll be okay, because I promised to take care of you when I took you in, no matter what, and that includes helping you with this.”

“They’re just headaches…” Ranpo tried to argue, because the last thing he wanted to do was waste Fukuzawa’s time in something he’d managed to deal with for years. Sure, his migraines had increased in frequency over time, but he was still managing just fine. It was just that this one had caught him unaware.

Fukuzawa’s hand paused, and his voice softened even more than before. “You deserve to be free of pain, Ranpo, so please, trust that I’ll be able to help you get treatment for your migraines.”

Ranpo sighed and nodded, allowing himself to be lost in the comfort that Fukuzawa brought, placing his trust in a man that he’d only known for two weeks, trusting in Fukuzawa’s promise of getting him help, and trusting in the words you’ll be okay.

He clung to those words and trusted.

He only hoped that trusting wouldn’t fail him.

-----

Something’s wrong.

The thought came to Fukuzawa unbiddenly, and was sudden enough that he paused mid stroke in the report he was signing. He tried to think back to everything that’d happened so far that day, yet there was nothing that came to mind. The day was as normal as a day at the Agency could be; he’d arrived after making sure that Ranpo was awake and out of bed—there’d been too many a time when he’d woken the boy up, only for him to go back to sleep the moment he left the room—to find Kunikida already there with Atsushi, the two of them working on a case together. Dazai was nowhere to be seen, but that wasn’t a surprise. Seldom was Dazai ever in the office early, much preferring to start late, and finish late, which coincidentally, worked quite well with Yosano’s schedule as well.

Tanizaki had asked for the day off, because he’d heard that Kenji and Kyouka hadn’t been to Cosmo World, and wanted to take them, and who was Fukuzawa to begrudge his younger staff members into acting their age for a change. It would do them some good, and would also promote closer bonds, all things Fukuzawa approved of his employee’s doing, and not just because it improved work ethic. He wasn’t so foolish as to think his employee’s were the kind of people that could keep going and going without the appropriate breaks. Many—if not all—of them were wounded souls that sometimes needed that little bit of extra care, quite often because they were so bad at taking care of themselves. But that was okay, because Fukuzawa was more than willing to be that support.

Ranpo always liked to tell him he’d turned soft in his old age.

Fukuzawa was inclined to agree, but now wasn’t the time to focus on that; there was still that intense feeling in his gut, telling him that something was wrong, or that something was about to go wrong if nothing had yet, and he could no longer ignore it. And since there was nothing in his office, that meant it had to be something within the main office.

Please let it be a broken window. Fukuzawa thought as he stood from his desk, walking around it towards the door. He was hoping for a broken window, but he knew deep down, that it wouldn’t be as simple as that; this feeling in his gut wouldn’t exist if the problem was just a broken window. Because between his employees and the mafia raids, the windows were broken more often than not, and really, if any of his employees decided to stop being detectives, they could probably open up a window repair business just from how often they’d had to repair the windows.

So yeah, a broken window was the best case scenario in Fukuzawa’s mind.

And he knew it wasn’t when he heard a timid knock, just as he was about to open the door. Fukuzawa shut his eyes for just a moment, and sighed, steeling himself for whatever problem he was about to encounter, before opening the door.

“Oh, um, President!” Atsushi blinked, surprised at how fast the door had been open. But the boy was quick to recover and stood up straight, restless, and fidgety as he always was. But Fukuzawa was a patient man, so he stood there, calm, as he waited for Atsushi to find his words, which thankfully didn’t take long at all. “Kunikida sent me to get you. Something’s wrong with Ranpo.”

Oh no, what’s happened this time? Fukuzawa closed his eyes, already running through every possible problem that could’ve happened with his ward. Which was a long list because Ranpo and trouble may as well have been the same word, what with how often he ended up in it. He let his mind return to that morning when he’d woken the detective; Ranpo hadn’t seemed off when he’d been woken up, only being a little more annoyed than he usually was if anything, and Ranpo hadn’t yet been summoned for a case that day. So whatever the problem was, it was a sudden one, and that was enough for him to step past Atsushi, worried. “What happened.”

Atsushi fell into step beside him. “I could hear his heart rate increasing, so I looked over and he looked to be in pain? I asked Ranpo if he was okay, but he didn’t answer me. But Kunikida looked up and told me to get you before rushing over.” Atsushi’s thought for a moment. “I think I heard him throwing up as I left, but I’m not sure.”

“He probably was.” Fukuzawa confirmed, knowing just from that brief explanation what was wrong. It’d been years since that time he’d woken up to the sound of Ranpo throwing up, two weeks after taking the kid in, suffering from a headache so strong, he’d barely been coherent as Fukuzawa had tried to figure out what was wrong and take care of him. And even after taking Ranpo to the doctor back then and getting him diagnosed with chronic migraines, and getting him the medicine that helped to reduce the frequency of them, the dreaded headaches still enjoyed making their appearance at the most inconvenient of times.

The last time had been before Atsushi had joined them; Ranpo had been summoned out by the police, only to fall ill upon arrival. Dazai had been with him at the time, to Fukuzawa’s relief, because Ranpo hadn’t even been able to stand from how much pain he’d been in.

“He suffers from migraines.” Fukuzawa explained, getting straight to the point because Atsushi wasn’t a child that needed coddling, and in the short time he’d been with the Agency, he’d become just as protective and caring as the rest of the members, fitting in well. “He’s had them for as long as I’ve known him, and he gets rather sick whenever they happen. Try to remain silent when we enter.”

“I understand.” Atsushi nodded, dashing ahead to open the door for Fukuzawa, and he gave the boy a nod as he stepped into the main office, taking care to be silent as he moved.

The curtains are drawn, and the lights are off, but Fukuzawa has no trouble locating his ward, if only because Ranpo is currently on the floor, leaning against the side of his desk with Dazai beside him, Ranpo’s head on Dazai’s shoulder, eyes closed and body trembling. There’s a wastebasket being clutched tightly in Ranpo’s grips, and as Fukuzawa steps closer, Ranpo makes a noise that has Kunikida reaching over from Ranpo’s other side to gently guide his head back towards the basket.

The sound of Ranpo throwing up always had Fukuzawa’s heart clenching, and this time was no different as he came to kneel in front of his ward, one hand reaching out to touch his ankle so that Ranpo knew he was there. No words were spoken, in fear of aggravating Ranpo’s migraine, but the relief on Ranpo’s face told him that he knew Fukuzawa was there. Once Ranpo finished throwing up, his head returned to Dazai’s shoulder, one of his hands grabbing at Dazai’s own, his grip loosening on the basket; Kunikida quietly placed it to the side, just in case it was needed again.

“It was sudden.” Kunikida informed him, keeping his voice low. “One minute he was fine, the next he was ill.”

Fukuzawa nodded. That was how most of Ranpo’s migraines tended to go, arriving without any kind of prior warning, so he wasn’t surprised to hear that was what happened this time. “Has he taken any medication?”

“The pills came right back up, so Yosano’s preparing a shot for him instead.” Dazai said this time, squeezing Ranpo’s hand gently. Ranpo mumbled something unintelligible. As soon as he finished speaking, there were footsteps approaching, familiar steps that Fukuzawa had grown accustomed to after a decade of listening out for them, but this time without the distinct clicking of heels, no doubt to limit the amount of noise in the room.

Yosano’s smile was soft as Fukuzawa’s eyes met her own, but she was quick to focus her attention back on the task at hand and shooed Kunikida away so that she had the space to work. They all watched as she pushed Ranpo’s sleeve to his elbow and in the very same breathe, inject him with the painkillers that would hopefully work faster than Ranpo’s usual medications. Yosano sat back on her heels. “We can move him to the infirmary in a minute. I’ve got Atsushi blocking out as much light as possible.”

“We can’t send him home?” Kunikida asked, brow furrowed.

“Not when it’s this bad.” Yosano sighed with a shake of her head. “We need to give the painkillers time to kick in anyway, and besides, the rest will do him good.”

“I’ll watch over him, and take him home once he’s in less pain.” Fukuzawa said as Kunikida opened his mouth to say something. Already he was moving, nudging the others out of the way so that he could get a grip on Ranpo and lift him into his arms, going slow so as to not make the nausea worse. At first, he thought Ranpo might’ve been asleep, considering he didn’t make a noise as he was shifted, but as he shuffled his arms to get a better grip, Ranpo moved to bury his face into the crook of his neck, throwing an arm over his shoulder at the same time.

“I’ll come with you.” Yosano got to her feet and followed Fukuzawa to the infirmary, opening and shutting the door so that Fukuzawa didn’t have to try and juggle both Ranpo and the door handle. Together, they worked on getting Ranpo settled into one of the beds; Yosano grabbed an extra pillow and a few blankets whilst Fukuzawa worked on shedding Ranpo of his layers until he was left in just his shirt and pants. The entire time, Ranpo didn’t make a sound, even though it was obvious he was still conscious from the way that he tried to help. Tried being the key word. But soon enough, Ranpo was settled into the bed with an ice pack over his eyes, dozing now, and the scene was so reminiscent of that time when Ranpo was fourteen, that Fukuzawa felt as if he’d been thrown back in time.

Fukuzawa sat in the chair that’d been pulled over and glanced over at Yosano. “How bad was it?”

“It was bad.” Yosano sat in the chair beside him, drawing her knees up so that she could rest her head against his shoulder. Fukuzawa reached over with one hand and patted the top of her head a few times. “Certainly one of the worst ones I’ve seen him have. Have you seen worse?”

“Two weeks after I took him in.” Fukuzawa answered. He didn’t elaborate, but he didn’t need to. Yosano had been apart of their lives for a decade, and was plenty smart herself. She could put the pieces together without him having to say so.

“He’ll be okay.” It wasn’t a question, nor a statement, but more of a reassurance. Still, Fukuzawa nodded.

“He’ll be okay.”

And Ranpo would be, because this wasn’t the first migraine he’d ever had.

Nor would it be the last.

#bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd fanfic #hurt/comfort #comfort #fukudad #edogawa ranpo #fukuzawa yukichi #armed detective agency #writing #fanfic

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heelluring · 2 years

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— nightmare.

lhs x fem!reader x syj

warnings: yandere, drug, mention of killing, kidnapping, car accident, manipulation — let me know if I forgot something

"Tired?"

You hummed snuggling on heeseung side for more warmth making him chuckle. Your tired sleepy eyes were enough answer for him to know. "Come on, love..." Heeseung whispered on top of your head, gaze turning to the clock for split second. "It's getting late, we should go to bed"

Heeseung doesn't need to wait for your nod, he grabbed the remote turning down the movie you two planned to watch earlier before he scoop you up like a newlywed bride and walked towards you two's shared bedroom.

"Sleep now, my love" He whispered at your sleepy frame, giving a blessing of kiss on your forehead. "I love you..." You whispered, it was so soft heeseung almost didn't hear it. "I love you too. I hope no nightmare tonight"

"I know you'll going to protect me from him"

Heeseung brushed your hair with his fingers, looking softly at you. "I will, I always do. Now, rest. We don't want you to have headaches again" He softly scold as you nod, eyes getting heavier as seconds pass.

Someone was calling your name.

The voice was familiar but you don't recognize it as if the information to determine who was it was buried in the deepest part of your brain. The fact that it was a man, calling your name in the softest but spine-thrilling feeling makes you want to throw up. It was making you anxious, it felt like something bad was bound to happen. The sounds echoed and rang inside your head. It was making you dizzy and paranoid so you tried to open your eyes... slowly.

Tears slowly form, dampening your lids as you do so. It was pitch-black, and everywhere you look is dark except the position that you currently standing in. You looked up and saw the distant light lit the very same spot you were standing in.

"y/n" the voice called again, except now the voice was complex and full as if the person saying it was in all corners of the room simultaneously. You frantically turned around, finding the source of the sound. It was making you crazy, your head wants to split into two. Even your hands can't help but grab your hair and then pull it in an attempt to remove the voice ringing inside your head. You started to scream, but the man calling your name drowned your cry for help with his voice rising at the same time as you. It was getting louder, and louder, and louder.

"No! no! no!" At the last call of your name, you turned around then there was complete silence. Your eyes fell to the other side of the room. There was a man standing not too far away from you. You can't comprehend his features, the darkness hiding all of the sinister proof displaying on his face but you know... no — you can feel that he was staring at you. You can feel his eyes burning a hole in between your eyes onto your skull.

He started to take a step. You wanted to step back away from him, to hide from him but your body froze. And then the lights finally revealed all of him.

"J-jake?" You stumbled, eyes wide staring straight at him. Jake's eyes were narrowed, the very same eyes that made your body shiver even if he was staring at you from across the room. His dark hair and long bangs didn't really help to ease his scary aura, it just made his eyes more roughish.

Your eyes screamed for help when he take another series of steps, "No! Please leave me alone... Just, please!"

"I'm not gonna hurt you, y/n..."

"No! Go away, let me go! You're a stalker! You're the one who killed the people around me" He wasn't even touching you but you felt so suffocated. Why can't he just go away?!

"Jake, please... You're dead already! You're not real, you will never hurt me or heeseung ever again!" His eyes darkened, more sinister than before as he laughed at you. "Heeseung? my, my... y/n, you got it all wrong"

Jake clenched his stomach as he laugh and tilted his head in pleasure before sending sharp glares at you. "I'm not the stalker, y/n. I am not the killer. It was heeseung... it was heeseung all alone!"

"Heeseung saved me from you-"

"He told me that he killed your father, that he killed everyone around you to make you dependent on him..."

You whispered a series of no's, raising your hands in an attempt to cover your ears. "You're not real! This is not real!" The hands covering your ears didn't really help on how you still can hear jake's voice ringing loud and clear as if he was inside your head, talking even from the beginning of all of this.

"And when, I told him that I'll tell you, he threatened to kill me. I was never in an accident, y/n! It was a complete murder show that was staged by heeseung all alone. You need to fucking remember it!"

Jake circled your body who was now trying to make itself small enough to try to seek comfort. Tears slowly but surely flowed down your face as he kneeled beside you, "It was the same day I got buried when you learned about the truth. The files about my death were in heeseung's locked drawer but then you see it. It felt like the Gods are looking down on your side and want to reveal the truth."

The man scoffed when he sees you frantically shaking your head, "You took the file, y/n... you wanted to bring the evidence to the hands of the police but heeseung caught you"

"You were held captive by him for almost three days, you pretend to be lost... pretended to be the most filial person he has ever met, feeding it on his own fantasy. You let heeseung let down his guard to completely trust you. One night, you finally decided to escape. You were driving one of his cars while heeseung was hot on your tail."

The woman, y/n was now silently crying her heart out as the 'truth' jake was saying slowly played in her mind like it just happened yesterday. "In a desperate plea to get away with him, you stepped on the gas. The car was running 180 mph and when it finally hit 200, your car bump into a three-wheeler truck causing your own accident."

Jake laughed as he stood up but still looked down at your miserable frame. "Heeseung was so fucking scared to lose you, y/n. For the very first time in his life again, he burst into tears. You don't know how thankful he was when the doctor told him you passed your critical condition but then you're memories fade as your health does so."

"Heeseung was so lost when he learned about your amnesia. He was even angry asking, how dare you forget him but then it dawned on him. You're in amnesia and he can very much do anything to take advantage of that miracle-like phenomenon"

The whole medium was filled with anything but your silent sobbing and cries. You tried to lift your head up, trying to look at Jake one last time. You wanted to say sorry but you couldn't, how can you when he was nowhere to be found and the man who you knew was 'jake' standing in front of you a couple of moments ago was now replaced by another nightmare.

"Heeseung..." You whimpered. "Come home" That's the last words he said to you before extending both of his hands to your neck, strangling you as your body develops a surge of fear.

"Love... please, wake up." The soft voice lulling you stir your thoughts up. Your eyes searched the owner of the beautiful gentle voice. It didn't take long when your gaze met heeseung's. Both of you were in bed, sharing each other's warmth as a soft silky sheet covering both of you. He was laying on his side, elbows propped up as he look down at you.

"Heeseung?" You called feeling the wet tears dropping from your eyes. "I'm here, love..." He whispered, one of his hands drying your tears away. "You were squirming and mumbling incoherent noises in your sleep. Nightmare?" Your head nodded, eyes still wet with evidence of crying in your sleep.

"It's still late at night, love. You need to sleep, the doctor told you to take it easy and take care of your health, right? If you didn't, you'll suffer from headaches again." Heeseung sat up, removing his hold on you in the process as his body turned around on the bedside table to his left. You whimpered in protest, you felt cold without his hands holding you. You felt empty without him tending you.

"Here, drink this love. It can help you have a good night's sleep" Your boyfriend made you sit up, and in his hands was a glass full of water. When you finished the drink, he made you lay on the bed again tucking you and making sure that you were comfortable.

It is true when he says the drink can make you sleep like a log. The nightmare that just occurred the same night was long forgotten just like the other dreams you had. No one knows if it's because of the lack of light inside the room, or the efficient trust between the two but you certainly didn't notice the trace of undissolved powder from the unknown medicine heeseung was making you drink.

People wanted to help you even in their death, even if their souls were now lurking on the other dimension but it was all helpless, it was when you were far damned and fallen at the center of the predator's hands.

Heeseung kissed you in your forehead, the smile forming in his lips get wide when you tuck yourself on his side pulling him closer to you.

"You'll never... ever leave me, my love. Never"

#🖤 — drabbles!#enhypen #enhypen au #enhypen ff #yandere au #lee heeseung #sim jaeyun #park jongseong #kim sunoo #park sunghoon #nishimura riki #yang jungwon #enhypen x reader

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wellthebardsdead · 7 months

Text

Unwilling Dreamer Pt3

Pt2 here

———

“Nerevar… my sweet nerevar…”

Shamat: h-hot- it’s so hot- where- am I?

“Don’t listen to him.”

Shamat: *opens his eyes to see another elf seated before him, one with his face but golden skin, staring at him with forlorn, heartbroken eyes* who? Are you?

Voryn: I’m you… before nerevar killed us… you’re in terrible danger.

Shamat: killed us- I- *jumps as the elf is replaced by another, a tall, muscular, clawed figure behind a golden mask*

Dagoth Ur: Don’t. listen. To. Him.

“Voryn?”

Shamat: *jolts awake with a feeble, startled cry as warm, kind, familiar hands stroke his cheeks, drying them from spilled tears* wh-what? L-lord Nerevar I-

Nerevar: *seated at his bedside with his breakfast, now gently drying his face* shhhh, it’s just me my dreamer.

Shamat: *tilts his head, voice quivering as he questions him* I’m voryn? Your dreamer?

Nerevar: yes voryn, youre mine, my dreamer. My retainer, my most loyal, devout, beloved. *strokes his cheek catching another tear with his thumb*

Shamat: *shudders at his touch, feeling a mix of confusion, shame and honour that the Hortator and king of all morrowind would dare give him even a scrap of his time never mind tend to him and treat him as sweetly as he has* b-but- I’m nobody sir I-

Nerevar: just don’t remember yet. *dries another tear before feeling his forehead* Tsk. Damned skooma… these withdrawals must be killing you.

Shamat: *tilts his head thinking the nightmare, the ear splitting pounding headache and burning heat must be withdrawal symptoms, they’d all started after he met nerevar of course* I- I’m hot- my head hurts-

Nerevar: *nods sadly, feeling helpless as he watches his treasured friend suffer* you’ll feel better after you’ve got something in you… *quietly lifts a cup of what looks like a rather dark tea, holding it to the dunmers lips* Have your medicine first…

Shamat: y-yes sir- *shakily reaches up to take the cup only for nerevar to continue his grip on it as he sips it slowly, refusing to let him feed himself, especially his ‘medicine’* I- *coughs as he finishes the cup* I-it tastes familiar somehow- like-… *quietly falls back into the pillows, his pupils blown out and body relaxing in an instant as his addiction is sated by the small dose*

Nerevar: *sighs and sets the cup down, feeling terrible for drugging him with even a small dose but knowing it’ll help in the process of weening his body off of it until he can stomach an antidote* that’s better isn’t it?… *leans down kissing his forehead earning only a soft, confused hum from the dunmers lips* sit up now, let’s get some food in you, my dreamer.

*a few weeks later*

Shamat: *sitting in his bed, no longer completely bed bound but still confined to his room, the door locked securely and guarded from the outside, as if his own bedchamber were a secret treasury for the Hortator himself. A little precious gem, for nerevars eyes only* … *quietly looks at the books on his bedside, unable to read any of them, unable to read at all never mind write* … *picks one up and slides out of bed, pulling on his slippers before walking to the door and knocking sheepishly* hello?… g-guards?…

Guard 1: Lord dagoth? What is it? Are you hurt? Sick?

Shamat: I- n-no. C-can one of you read a book to me?… I can’t read and lord nerevar won’t-

Guard 2: I’m sorry my lord but the Hortator gave us strict orders not to interact with you beyond-

Shamat: p-please?…

*silence*

Shamat: *sighs and goes to sit back down before jumping as the door clicks open a fraction and an armoured hand reaches through* thank y- *blinks as the guard takes it and closes the door again*

Guard 2: I’ll read to you from out here.

Shamat: *heart dropping realising the guard won’t join him in his room, only allowing him company other than nerevar from the other side of the wall* thank you… *sits by the door and sighs, feeling isolated by his routine, by nerevars strict rules over him and his care, and feeling terrible and ungrateful for even daring to think negatively about it. Daring to be sour about the care nerevar obviously has for him, for the roof over his head, for the food in his stomach, and the medicine that makes his pains go away*

Guard 2: *reading to him as promised* And in silence he swore a mighty oath-that he should be his Lord's bane, and in vengeance for his- O-Oh! L-lord nerevar I-

Shamat: *jumps a little and shakily scrambles up to his feet hearing Nerevars name, opening some of the still tender wounds on his legs and back as he does so* lord ner- *goes silent hearing the sound of something being struck by a harsh blow before staggering back as the door swings open and nerevar enters pulling the guard in by his hair*

Nerevar: *holds the book up in his hand* Did you ask him to read you this?…

Shamat: *eyes wide seeing the bruise already forming on the guards cheek and the cruel grip nerevar has on his hair* I- y-yes I did. I-I had nothing to do and couldn’t read it without y-your help my lord.

Guard 2: *wincing at nerevars hold on his head, trying his hardest to pull himself forward to protect his neck fearing it’ll be cut* I-I swear- I swear my lord I’d never impose on your claim to lord dagoth- I only meant to please h- *coughs as he’s suddenly thrown to the floor with a violent force*

Nerevar: *eyes locked firmly onto Shamat* get out. You’ll be reassigned.

Guard 2: *gets up without hesitation and scrambles out of the chamber, not even sparing a glance back at Shamat in fear it’ll leave his head rolling on the floor*

Nerevar: *closes the door slowly and locks it, eyes still firmly on the meek dunmer trapped before him* … *slowly walks to him, holding the book tight in his hand* …Are you telling the truth… you wanted him to read to you?… nothing else?…

Shamat: *nods staring up at him, his mind swimming with confusion and fear, not understanding what he did wrong to earn such a reaction or harm to another* y-yes my l-

Nerevar: *lifts his chin suddenly with the book, his tongue clicking in disapproval* …

Shamat: m-my moon and star. *trembles feeling the sharp corner beneath his chin* I was bored, it… it’s so lonely when you’re gone…

Nerevar: *gaze softening as he lowers the book, satisfied his dreamer is telling the truth* Oh voryn, I’m sorry my duties must steal me away from you… *gently hands him the book before lifting him up as if he weighs nothing* I’ll read to you no-… *looks down to see a pool of blood gathered at his feet where Shamat stood* … *sets him on the bed and pulls back the robes to see the bandages soaked from where the wounds tore* …

Shamat: n-nerevar?

Nerevar: … *gently covers him back up before walking to the door and stepping outside, locking it as he leaves*

#Shamat the Sharmat #Shamat dragonborn #voryn dagoth #nerevar

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