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ghost-with-a-teacup · 11 months

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𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 (𝐈𝐈)

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader

Summary: After you reveal the truth of what your relationship really was between you and Miguel, everyone's keen on learning more. So what better way to give a little more insight than a dinner at your shared home?

Warnings: None~ Just back again with silly shenanigans and the softest of fluff :3

A/N: Hello, everyone! After the first part of 'What's In Between' blew up (you can read it here, thank you so much by the way, you're all so sweet), many people have asked for a part two, so here it is! Enjoy <3

The moment you break the news to them, the volume of the table booms to a fever pitch as everyone begins talking at the same time.

“W-WHAT?!”

“Married? No way,” Hobie says.

“How long have you been together?” Pavitr asks.

“I can’t say I saw this coming…” Miles says, eyes widening in surprise.

Miguel had been watching you the moment you snuck up on the group, but with the newfound panic from everyone he couldn’t help but make his way over to the commotion.

“You’re all being loud, what are you yelling about now?” Miguel asks, walking over and standing by your side.

“HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL US YOU WERE MARRIED?!” Gwen shouts.

“You never asked,” he blinks, “and also, it’s none of your business.”

“Miguel, as your best friend I am deeply offended that you haven’t told me after this long, does our friendship mean nothing to you?” Peter says, hand on his chest in pretend hurt.

“You are not my best friend,” Miguel deadpans.

“After I opened up to you no less, I mean, you were the first person I told about Mayday! All the details-” he continues, ignoring the comment.

“Not by choice,” he mutters.

“Does no one know about this?? At all???” Pavitr asks, “I mean, you two are married.”

“I mean, Jess knows about it,” you gesture, and she only grins.

“And now all of you do too,” Miguel sighs. “Vida mía, I thought we talked about this,” he admonishes.

“Oh, c’mon, it was cute how they were all trying to figure it out for so long. I was starting to feel bad,” you say, smoothing your hair back. He only stares at you for a moment before sighing.

“Fine,” he relents, “Can’t do anything about it now anyway.” He smiles softly at you, and the group watches in awe as their cold leader softens in your presence, but his gaze quickly grows dark as he turns back to the group.

“One word of this to anyone outside of this group,” he says with a pointed finger before trailing off, allowing everyone to fill in the blanks as to what he might do.

Everyone’s faces pale like a sheet at the unnamed threat (well, except for Hobie, he only watches with blatant amusement on his face), but you only laugh.

“Miguel, don’t threaten the kids,” you giggle. “Don’t worry, he’s all bark and no bite,” you whisper to them with a wink.

“Hey, that’s what I say!” Peter says.

“You are his best friend after all,” you grin.

“I have never said those words a day in my life,” he scoffs, but you ignore him, eyes lighting up with an idea.

“Oh! I have a lovely idea, how about you all swing by our place for dinner later? We never have guests,” you suggest.

Gwen gasps, “Really?”

“This…maybe doesn’t seem like the best idea,” Miles says as he shrinks down in his seat at Miguel’s glare towards you.

“I have plans tonight…though I don’t think they’d mind if I cancel,” Hobie says nonchalantly, but everyone knew there was no way in hell he’d miss something like this.

“What am I, cat litter?” Jess asks. She was the only person to have been at your shared home, having joined around the same time as you, and being one of the few people Miguel fully trusts.

“You know it's not like that, Jess,” you turn to her with a grin.

“Absolutely not, it's already a liability that they know querida, now you want them traipsing into our home?” Miguel argues, and you narrow your eyes at him, never one to back down from a fight. While it got on his nerves, it's what he loved about you too. He needed someone that wouldn’t take his shit.

“Miguel,” you say, giving him a look. “All our enemies are literally in alternate universes who, aside from those small tears, have no way to go cross-dimensional, let alone find us in the expanse of a universe. Besides, I think it would be nice,” you say, and Mayday seems to agree since she climbs right up into your arms, babbling happily.

“And don’t think I don’t know you have a soft spot for this lil ragtag team,” you smile, bouncing up and down as Mayday laughs.

He huffs, “I am anything but soft, especially for them. They never listen, don’t follow protocol, are immature, and the list goes on.”

“He’s lying,” you whisper, covering your mouth from his direction as though that would stop him from happening. Mayday grabs your hand though, playing with your fingers happily. “See how his ears are turning red?”

At that, his ears turn more red and the group tries to stifle their snickers to no avail.

“Querida,” he warns. “Do you feel the need to share anything else about me? Or have you had enough,” he asks, poking your shoulder. You place a hand on his bicep with a gentle smile, and his expression softens much to his dismay.

“Honey, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you grin. “Alright, it’s settled then! You’re all coming over tonight.”

You hummed softly to yourself as you moved around the kitchen, preparing the food for dinnertime when everyone would be coming over.

Then, you feel the hair rise on the back of your neck as a familiar presence makes himself known, strong arms wrapping around your waist as his head rests on top of yours.

“Vida mía, the food smells good,” he says softly before sighing. “But I’m not very happy with you today.”

You let out a sigh of your own as you turn off the stove before turning around in his arms to face him.

“Miguel, my love,” you say, smoothing out the collar of the pullover he wore before looking up at him. “I know you well, don’t I?”

“More than anyone,” he says, the corner of his mouth lifting the tiniest amount as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Then it’s safe to assume that you’ve been wanting to hang out with more people in the Society apart from work-related things?” you ask, placing your hand on his chest.

“I can’t afford anything like that in this line of work, you know that querida,” he sighs, that familiar hardened look in his eyes for a moment.

“Miguel, your only friends can’t be me, Lyla and Jess,” you pout.

“Vida mía, you are my wife,” he says.

“Yes, and it's miracle enough that I was able to grow close enough to you to get to that point,” you chuckle, “so my existence in your life is proof itself that you are capable of growing close to people. I’ve seen you, I think you’re ready and deep down I know you don’t always want to be perceived as the cold and unfeeling leader of the Society. Why not start with them?”

“That’s not a decision for you to make,” he says, glancing away from you.

“I know, and I’m sorry,” you apologize, feeling a bit guilty that you threw Miguel into this without warning. “I should have spoken to you about it first but who knows. Maybe this is a good thing, opening your heart a little more,” you explain. “Don’t think I realize you’re the hardest on them because you believe in them,” you smile.

He huffs before pausing to think for a moment. “Sometimes I wonder when you snuck your little way into my head, querida.”

“Admit it, you’re growing soft,” you giggle softly.

“Never,” he counters, tickling your side which makes you scrunch up your face as you laugh breathlessly.

“OKAY! Okay, you’re one soft fluffy teddy bear, happy?” you say which only makes him continue with even more fervour.

“That is the most ridiculous thing I think I have ever heard you say, querida,” he snorts but finally relents.

“Yeah….I can’t even say that with a serious face,” you chuckle. “But you do have your moments, tough guy,” you smile, leaning up on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his lips.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” he rolls his eyes. That’s when the doorbell rings, and immediately your eyes light up.

“Oh! They’re here!!” you say excitedly, escaping from his grasp as you move to open up the door.

“Here we go,” he murmurs to himself, and you turn to face him.

“What was that?” you ask.

“Nothing, vida mía,” he replies, and you narrow your eyes in disbelief.

“Behave, Miguel,” you tell him.

“Wouldn’t dream of anything else,” he replies, and you grin before opening up the front door.

There, you find Miles, Gwen, Pavitr, Peter (alongside Mayday of course), Hobie and Jess all standing outside, chatting amongst themselves before turning to you.

Miles almost looks like he’s in disbelief like he couldn’t really believe this was your home quite yet.

“Hi!” Gwen starts.

“Took you lot long enough,” Hobie says. “Was starting to think we'd have to build a fire and cook it ourselves.” Gwen punches his shoulder, to which he lets out a little “Ow!”

“Sorry about him,” Gwen apologizes.

You just find yourself laughing at it all though.

“No apologies needed, we were a little preoccupied. Come on in, make yourself at home,” you say, opening the door a little wider for them to make their way through.

“Not too at home though,” you hear Miguel say, leaning into the foyer from the living room, arms crossed over his chest.

“Ignore him,” you say, giving him a pointed look to which he just stares at you blankly. “Dinner will be ready soon, I just have to set the table and we can eat, alright?”

“It smells delicious,” Pavitr says, “I’m starving.”

Mayday seems to agree as she crawls up from the baby carrier onto Peter’s head, making grabby hands from the top.

“Someone’s hungry,” Peter chuckles. “Got anything she can eat?”

“I have a few things, don’t worry,” you smile.

“It really does smell really good though, but it always does,” Jess adds.

“It’s nothing special,” you say sheepishly. “Just some of Miguel’s favourites.”

You guide them all into the living room. “Settle in! I’ll be done in a snap,” you say.

As you make your way back to the kitchen (with Jess joining you to help out), back in the living room the squad of spiders settle in almost hesitantly, a watchful eye monitoring all of their reactions.

No one dares say anything, only sitting around nervously.

“So…nice weather we’re having,” Peter says, trying to lighten the mood but even Mayday gives him a deadpanned expression.

Miguel sighs. “You’re all acting like there’s a ticking time bomb waiting for you to speak before setting off,” he says, still leaning up against the doorway.

“We don’t know, mate. Is there?” Hobie jokes, but Miles’ face drops anyway.

“There isn’t, for the record. I can be harsh but I’m not evil,” Miguel scoffs before making eye contact with Pavitr who looks like he wanted to ask something but was holding back.

“One question,” he says simply with a nod.

“How long have you two been together?”

“…a little over 4 years now,” he replies.

“How did you meet?” Gwen asks.

“I said one question,” he says before your voice cuts in.

“My universe was one of the first he visited! He hated me back then, though,” you laugh as you walk back in. “Speaking of which!! I have some things you might all want to see after dinner,” you grin mischievously.

“I thought you said I was the one that had to behave, mi corazón,” Miguel says, a warning tone in his voice.

“And I am, aren’t I?” you say, poking his side playfully. “Anyway, dinner’s ready,” you say, leading them to the dining room. “I know it's not much but-”

“How in the hell is this not much??” Hobie exclaims, and you just shrug. “You should see dinner with my family, then you will think that it’s not much,” you say with a chuckle.

On the table sat a wide expanse of food, all of Miguel’s favourites from Mexico. Empanadas as the appetizer, alongside pozole, ceviche, enchiladas, and chicken with mole poblano all served with a side of rice, beans, or homemade corn tortillas depending on each person’s preference.

You can see Miguel’s eyes visibly brighten as he looks at the food, settling in at the head of the table with you by his side.

“Come eat!” As you say that, everyone sits down before beginning to eat, everyone heading straight to what appealed to them the most.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” Miles says, eyes closed in bliss.

“Oye, don’t let your Mother hear that, kid,” Miguel says, but the corner of his lip was upturned in the tiniest of smiles. The most he would allow himself around this many people.

“Thank you, Miles,” you smile.

“This, uhh, how do you say it again? Poh-zuhl?” Gwen asks, and you laugh out loud as she turns pink, meanwhile both Miguel and Miles cringe slightly.

“I’m sorry for laughing, sweetheart. You’re almost there; it’s pronounced like ‘poh-zoh-lay’,” you say kindly.

“Ohh, okay gotcha. Pozole. It’s really good! Feels…comforting, almost,” she says.

“Yes,” you say, glancing at your husband with a soft smile, “it’s Miguel’s favourite. Says it ‘tastes like home’.” A chorus of ‘awws’ go around the table, while Miguel only holds the bridge of his nose with a sigh.

“Alright, alright. Enough with the cheesy stuff, let’s get back to eating, yeah?” Hobie says before shoving his fork back into his mouth.

Once dinner was finished (and after both Miles and Gwen insisted that they did the dishes despite much argument from you), everyone was settled again in the living room laughing and talking together, and while Miguel only said a few things here and there and sat by your side like a lost puppy, he did seem to be enjoying himself.

“Alright! Now, before everyone goes back home, I have one more thing I’d like to show you,” you say once it quiets down a bit. Standing up, you make your way over to a large bookshelf you and Miguel had built together when you first moved in together.

“I’ve gotten tired of having only myself to show these photos to, so this is the perfect opportunity,” you smile.

“Querida-” Miguel says, holding out a hand to block your way but you look at him with pleading eyes, and he can’t do anything but relent. He couldn’t say no when you looked at him like that.

With a triumphant ‘haha!’ you grab a photo album labelled with a date and a single word; ‘Ours’.

Everyone crowds around as you place it down on the coffee table, and you open it up to the first page.

Gwen is the one that gasps first, eyes wide with awe.

“You both look so beautiful,” she says softly.

There, front and centre was a photo of you and Miguel on your wedding day. You were smiling wide at the camera, a bouquet of your favourite flowers in hand while Miguel only looked at you with an expression so in awe it was as though you painted the stars in the sky.

“You clean up nicely, big man,” Hobie comments, and Pavitr nods.

“Weddings, my favourite,” Jess says, a fond expression on her face as she thinks back to her own husband.

“I had a bird fly into my face at my wedding…but they are nice,” Peter says, rocking Mayday gently as she naps away after the hearty dinner even despite the commotion.

You continue to flip through the photobook, pausing periodically for a little anecdote about each one. Miguel had long stood up to make room for everyone else, but he looked at you in the same way he did on your wedding day.

Like you were the light of his life, the one good thing he had amongst the millions of universes parallel to his own. Like you were his everything.

“Admit it, you like them,” you smile, the house finally quiet after everyone headed home. He only rolls his eyes before pulling you into his lap, his face going into the crook of your neck as he holds you close.

“There is a big difference between ‘liking’ and ‘tolerating’, sweetheart,” he says, rubbing circles into your hip soothingly.

“Yeah, yeah, tough guy. Whatever you say,” you reply, wrapping your arms around his neck and settling into his touch with a happy sigh.

You both sit there for a moment in silence, the two of you weren’t ones to fill silence with mindless chatter. If words needn’t be said then they weren’t.

“That was…nice, though,” he admits softly after a little while.

“I know,” you whisper.

“That won’t happen again for a long while though,” he says, pulling away to look at you, crimson eyes pleading with you wordlessly.

You can’t do anything but laugh.

Taglist (for those who requested a part two): @lotustv @mars-ifuknowmeirlplsgoaway @elliewilliamsactualgf @randomhumans-blog @iluvkonig @phillygraves @gothgirlziez

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o hara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #marvel

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aurorawritestoescape · 15 days

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RIBBON || Joel Miller x f!reader || 1k

Summary: Joel wants you to come without touching yourself.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, pwp, Joel is strict but fair, unprotected piv, bondage, size kink, praise kink, a drop of degradation

A/n: I saw these two pics on Pinterest side by side and couldn’t shake off the thots. Pics for mood only, reader has no physical descriptions. Kisses to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing💖 Hope you all will enjoy🎀

MASTERLIST

*****

“Joel, please,” you whine wriggling on the bed, legs spread around his hips. “I can’t, I need someone to touch my clit!”

He’s fully clothed, jeans unzipped and pulled down to the mid thigh while you’re completely naked, your tank top and shorts discarded on the floor by Joel’s impatient hands.

“The fuck ya mean ‘someone’?” He growls looming over your face, his cock buried deep in your cunt. You squeak pathetically when you see him clench his jaw.

“I mean you or me. I can’t come… you know, just from you fucking my pussy. It’s not you. I never could.”

“Hngg,” he growls and you nervously chew on your lip.

“I’ll touch myself a little, ‘k?” you ask as your hand inches closer and closer to your pulsating bud.

“The hell ya will.”

He pulls out and you see him reach for the nightstand and search for something in the drawer.

“Good…,” he mumbles before pulling a pink ribbon out.

“What are you…?” is all you have time to say until he grasps your wrists, pins them to the bed and starts tying them together, huffing over you. His hard cock smears precum over your belly, his delicious musk hits your nose and you clench around nothing when he cages you like that between his giant body and the bed.

When he’s done, he hovers over you with a satisfied smirk.

He gets back between your thighs as you bring your hands to your face and widen your eyes in surprise. The ribbon holds your wrists securely but doesn’t hurt you.

“It looks really pretty, Joel,” you say admiring his work.

“It ain’t for being pretty, sweetheart. It’s to stop your hands from touching your needy clit. You’re comin’ just from my cock tonight. Nothing else.”

You furrow your brows and pout your lips, placing your bound hands on your naked chest but he grabs them and pins them over your head.

“Ready for your training?” Joel asks you, his dark eyes searching your features for any trace of discomfort.

“Do your worst,” you smile at him and spread your legs a little wider.

You’d expect another man to hammer into you immediately, trying to hit anything that can make you come. But not Joel.

“Breathe for me, sweetheart,” he asks you, nudging your wet hole with his fat head, and then slowly pushes it in, deeper and deeper, making your folds spread around his girthy cock. Your moan is needy and lustful.

He bottoms out and groans looking down at the place where his cock disappeared inside your greedy hole.

“Fuck, ya have a perfect pussy, baby. Look at her takin’ all of my cock so good.”

Joel slowly pulls out almost to the tip and you feel your walls clench around his fat head, not letting it go. His eyes dart attentively between yours, reading your reaction, as he slowly buries his length into you again.

“She’s not perfect”, you whine, “I wanna come on your cock and be a good girl for you. But I can’t.”

Your insecurity is soon alleviated by his warm smile, full of love and affection.

“She is. Just needs a little help.”

“Like your thumb on my clit?” You purr with an innocent smile.

Joel chuckles.

“No, baby. She needs to be fucked right. Does she want that?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, your cunt melting around his cock. His tip kisses your cervix and you softly whimper, as your nails dig into your sweaty palms.

Joel groans, then leans lower and kisses you. His taste intoxicates you, his tongue possessive, lips skilful and soft.

When his lips leave you, he stills his thrusts and looks deep into your hazy eyes. You whimper, feeling his length throb deep inside you.

Then he rolls his hips and starts gradually increasing the pace. You’re moaning and chewing on your lip feeling the climax closer and closer. His tip rubs against something so pleasant that you’re dripping on the sheets, your body sweaty with the heat radiating from him. Albeit dancing on the precipice, you still can’t seem to take the final leap.

“Joel, please, just graze it, just a little,” You plead with a desperate need in your voice, eyes glossy with tears of frustration. You wiggle your hands, trying to free yourself from his grip but he’s unyielding, the ribbon held tightly by his thick fingers.

“Shh.. I said ya gonna come like this, sweetheart. Now lie still and let me make ya feel good. ‘k?”

You nod and he pulls out, grabs a pillow next to your head and sits on his heels between your thighs.

“Lift ya sexy ass for me.”

You do as you're told and he pushes the pillow under your butt, raising your hips.

Then he stands on his knees between your thighs and throws your legs over his shoulders. With his hand wrapped around his cock, he pushes it into your soaked hole again. It slides in easily, his length, your folds are all covered in your juices, and the sensation is so much brighter in this position, a gasp leaves your lips.

He starts fucking you, his strokes hard and deep. No one has ever made you feel this good. With each thrust, you say his name like a prayer, devotion in your breathy voice. You’re looking up at him like he’s your god. And he is at this moment.

“Yeah, baby. Bet your little fingers can’t make you feel this good, huh? Singing beautifully on my big cock. She’s gonna choke me soon, I can feel it.”

You nod with half-lidded eyes, lips parted, drunk on the sensation of his hot member massaging your walls just right, and he barks a laugh,

“You’re so cock drunk, baby. Not a single thought behind your pretty eyes.”

You have no power to object, why would you? He’s right. All of you is focused on his cock fucking into your soaked pussy.

Joel slows down dragging his tip against your front wall and making you squeeze your eyes shut with pleasure.

“I feel it, Joel. So close. Please make me come, please,” You whine desperately, opening your blown eyes, legs trembling on his shoulders.

“I will, sweetheart”, he rolls his hips just right and you scream, clenching on his cock, your whole body shaking.

“That’s it…perfect little pussy,” Joel mumbles as his thrusts become erratic. He doesn’t stop when he begins emptying his heavy balls inside you, prolonging your orgasm with the jets of cum caressing the walls of your contracting pussy.

“Yeah…Keep milking my cock, baby…hnggg. Good girl.”

Wanting to be closer, you drop your legs, sit up, throw your tied hands around his neck and pull Joel to you, chest to chest. Nuzzling the crease of your neck he continues filling you with his warm cum, growling against your skin.

Joel stays on top of you for a few moments, big and broad, pressing you into the mattress with his weight. You kiss his cheekbone and whisper a loving ‘thank you.’

*****

Thank you for reading!💖

Please consider reblogging and commenting if you enjoyed the fic. Your feedback motivates me so much!🌺

Masterlist

Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @survivingandenduring @missannfairy @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer

If you'd like to be tagged in my future fics, let me know!💕

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller tlou #joel miller fanfiction #tlou joel #joel fic #joel fanfiction #joel fanfic #joel x reader #joel the last of us #pedro pascal smut #pwp

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welcometowhore-rrorville · 10 months

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𝒦𝒾𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓇 𝐼𝓃 𝐵𝑒𝒹

Featuring: Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: nsfw, mdni, smutty headcanons, virginity mention, dirty talk, rough sex, just general nasty things

Michael Myers

Let’s be honest—this man was a virgin before you showed up

He was in a mental institution from a young age—not exactly the best place to fuck

Still, that certainly didn’t stop him

He picked up on what to do fast—it’s not all that difficult

Still, he definitely focused on himself

Whether or not you came was not his problem

You have to take matters into your own hands when it comes to that, using your fingers to work at your clit

Most of the time your body is jostled around to much to do so

He’s not gentle

Whatsoever

Things will be broken

The bed?

A bone?

Who knows

You have so so many marks

Bruises

Cuts

You always look like you fell through a wood chipper

It’s not like you could reason with him, though

“Hey, can you, I don’t know, be gentle for once and not fuck me against a countertop?”

Yea, that would go over well

He gets. . . better. . . eventually

Still mostly selfish

But may rub against your clit as he’s pounding into you

By accident?

Unclear

Expect to walk with a permanent limp

RIP

Definitely into knife-play

So many shredded clothes

C’mon, what’d you expect?

The mask stays on during sex

Obviously

If he’s super comfortable he might pull it up enough to bite you

But don’t expect to catch a glimpse of his face

After-care? What’s that?

You clean yourself up 99% of the time

The only time he’s ever done anything was when you passed out during sex and woke up in your bed

Other than that, you don’t expect him to provide any cuddles

He doesn’t even sleep in the same bed at night

Jason Voorhees

Tries his best to be so so so gentle with you

Also a virgin before you showed up

Not many people were lining up to fuck an undead monster haunting a summer camp

He’s. . . big. . . everywhere

It takes a while before you’re even able to take him properly

It’s not that you were unprepared, but at the slightest flinch of your face Jason would pause and refuse to touch you again for hours

You made sure to explain that you were fine and that you weren’t made of glass

But he was still petrified of hurting you

Still, when he finally calms enough to fully fuck you one night, you’re seeing stars

He’s slow and cautious, but eventually something lights a fire within him

Rubs his masked face into your neck apologetically as he rams into you

When you’re walking funny the next day he carries you everywhere

You don’t blame him for getting carried away sometimes, and even enjoy a little roughness more-often-than-not

He tries his best with after-care but is pretty clueless as what to do with you

When you’re exhausted and curled in on yourself he thinks he’s permanently hurt you

You tell him gently to run you a bath

Will attach himself to your hip and snuggle you until one of you is forced to get up

Nestles his masked nose against any marks he may have caused, letting out a low whimper

You run your hand down his back

“I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me. I’m okay.”

Tries to make your pleasure his number one priority

Will listen intently as you bashfully explain what you want and like

Does as told

He’s a little rough, massive fingers toying with your clit hard enough to have you wincing

But eventually he gets the hang of it

Refuses to cum until you have

Even when you’re giving him head, he always has to be touching you in some way, getting you off just as much as your getting him off

Sometimes he can’t help himself and cums before you, only to let out a low whine of disappointment, like he was ashamed of himself

You’re never far behind, anyways

One of the most selfless lovers you’ve ever had

The fact he doesn't speak doesn't even cross your mind

He gets his points across fine with his actions and occasional low rumbles

And you were never much for dirty talk, anyway

Bo Sinclair

He’s a wild-card

Some days he’s feeling generous enough to nestle his head between your legs, other days he’s got you gagging on his dick until can’t breathe

You’re unsure of what impacts his attitude, every night getting ready to expect something different

You supposed he had a lot of things happen in life, you couldn’t blame him for being a little hot-and-cold about things

Regardless of what’s happening, he’s got a lot to say about it

If he’s not growling in your ear, teasing you with dirty words as he rams into you, then he’s moaning loudly against your lips or neck

You don’t think he’s ever quiet for more than a few seconds

What he says varies, too

Some days it’s nothing but praise

“Whatta good girl you are. C’mon, sweetheart. You can do it. Almost there—there it is, darlin’. Don’t you look like a beauty chokin’ on my cock?”

“That’s it, beautiful. Keep sayin’ my name. Feel good, huh? Don’t close those pretty lips of yours. I wanna hear ya when I fuck ya.”

Other days he’s grabbing your ass harshly, scolding you for muffling your moans against his neck

“The fuck you think you’re doin’? You’re nothin’ but a whore, don’t try ‘nd be bashful now.”

“What a slut. Look how wet you are for me. Gettin’ off on the thought of me fuckin’ you, bitch?”

It’s enough to give you whiplash

Still, you can’t complain that it’s boring

And it’s not like you don’t get your own enjoyment out of it

Whether or not he lingers after he fucks you depends on nothing in particular

Sometimes he’ll pull you close and press a kiss to your forehead, mumbling praises in your ear as he caresses your body

Other times he’ll put his boxers back on and rest against the door frame, just staring at you as you clean yourself up

He never leaves without making sure you’re alright, though

No matter how rough he was with you he gently traces over your body, making sure nothing hurt to bad

Then he’s back to his cocky self, trying to pretend he didn’t just treat you like a princess

There’s always marks littering your neck and shoulders

The sight of them is enough to let any tourists know to fuck off

You tried to cover them once with a high collared shirt but it only ended with more hickies and bite marks, this time high enough on your neck that even a turtle neck couldn’t hide them

He’s possessive, always having an arm or hand around you when talking to strangers that come by

He’ll, even around his own brothers he’s like that

He’s always smacking your ass or planting a kiss to your lips, leaving you to yelp in surprise

This man has a breeding kink

That’s just the facts

The thing is, the idea of having a kid makes him gag

He’s not a fan of the little gremlins

But something about you—thighs wrapped around his hips as he cums into you—the fullness of your cunt—the slight bulge of your belly—always gets him going

Maybe it’s the distant idea of raising a half-normal family for once

For now, you stay on birth control

Vincent Sinclair

He’s extremely introverted and self-conscious

You have to be the one to initiate most things

Even then he’s unsure of himself

He’s afraid he’ll scare you somehow

The first time you two are intimate it’s simply soft touches, your lips trailing over his skin as your hands stroke at his dick

It’s not sex

It’s too soft for that

You hated to use the word love-making, but you supposed that’s what it was

After his confidence is built up enough to take control, he catches on fast

He has a niche for precise finger-work, given his work as a sculptor, and has you cumming on his hands more times than you can count

He keeps his mask on 99% of the time

You don’t force him to do otherwise

It’s his comfort object

As long as he’s happy, you’re happy

Still, there are times where he pulls it off, only to hide himself between your legs

The first time he ate you out, he insisted upon a blanket draped over your bottom half, but he’s past that now, knelt down in front of you, fingers clutched against your thighs as he pushes his tongue further inside of you

You make sure to praise him every time he makes you feel good—wanting him to know it was him getting you off

It definitely helped his self-esteem

He’s still distant when others are around, but you’ve gotten to the point where you can sit in his lap and play with his hair while Bo lounges on the couch

Bo still gives you two playful taunts, but he’s just happy his brother found someone

Though he really needs to invest in some ear-muffs if you keep up with the moaning at god-knows-how-late-at-night

*cough* waxplay *cough*

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peachsayshi · 1 year

Text

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ EX-BOYFRIEND HCS (feat. Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Choso)

minors / ageless / blank blogs dni

ˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: angsty, mentions of break ups, mentions of make ups, mentions of commitment issues, I’m keeping all of this kind of vague.

ˋ°•*⁀➷ notes: decided to finally edit up this post that I wrote xo I hope you enjoy it! feedback/reblogs are always appreciated <3

wc: 1,204

gojo:

he understood why you ended things with him. he’s not an easy man to love, he doesn’t exist in a world where a life can simply be built. he didn’t fight you on your decision or beg you to change your mind. there is nothing he can offer in return which is why he conceded in letting you go, even though the choice destroyed him beyond comprehension. this is the first time he’s ever felt truly broken and he chooses not to cross paths with you for the sake of his own wellbeing.

but still, he can never fully erase you from his life. you were his pretty light, the spark of happiness that brought him profound joy. he can’t help but succumb to an opportunity of sneaking back in, even in the smallest of ways. besides, the break up didn’t end with fighting or hateful words, it was amicable - so, why can’t he show any signs of fondness?

these excuses come with every birthday, holiday or special occasion. you always receive a thoughtful gift wrapped up in a pretty bow. gojo never includes a card, but the way your heart seizes up tells you that it is from him. it lingers in your mind that he still thinks about you, even though you are trying to move on. your heart fights you on every decision you make. you would meet bachelors who would exude perfection but they don’t even come close to the man you once loved. satoru gojo may no longer hold space in your life, but the painful reality is that there’s a void inside you that only he can fill.

geto:

the man who stole your heart - there’s an ache in the place where the muscle once resided. he snatched it away without even knowing, and disappeared into the shadows. you don’t hear from him at all, not even a single text or a phone call. the silence is absolutely haunting - he doesn’t know the hurt is the reason why you hate him, but how its also a reminder of just how much you love him. he makes time stand still - and your world stops moving.

suguru should know better - this way is easier (or so he thinks), he had his reasons (or so he thinks). he spends his days analyzing this decision - dissects it, pries it open and pokes at it in all angles. every conclusion leads to him acknowledging that you deserve far more than what he can give you. but still it becomes his obsession, his source of contention and irritation. it’s not like he hasn’t done this before, but why can’t he snip the last tether that’s tugging at his heart?

it’s him showing up in the middle of the night, taking in the stunned expression on your face after months of zero contact. he holds you with so much care when he apologizes, begs you to take him back as he whispers sweet words in your ear. you’re not proud of the way you melt right into arms, or how easily you invite him to your bed. you hate that you would let him break your heart a thousand times over, not knowing that he’'ll fight to his last breath just to mend it back together.

nanami:

messy is the only word to describe the break up. somehow it wasn’t even a one sided decision, but a point where neither of you were willing to carry on. the heartbreaking thing is that the two of you didn’t just end a relationship, you ended an entire life together. nanami never went into anything half-assed, and that included what he shared with you. now, he sits in his new apartment, most of his things still packed in boxes, and he can’t bring himself to settle down. you were the only home he’s ever grown to love and he can’t help but think what it was about this particular fight that defined the course of your relationship.

nanami was mature about the aftermath, but his removed behavior made you feel small, made you wonder if he was truly unaffected by the pain of separation. as you divide up your life you ponder if he’s reconsidering the entire decision as well. this whole blow up felt so stupid to you now, a minor blimp in the beautiful story of your love together. you knew he wasn’t good at expressing himself in the moment, but when he finally left the key to your place behind, everything came crashing down at once.

you both have a hard time referring to each other as exes. you both still speak about one another with such tenderness. your loved ones pushed you both into seeking each other out, but neither of you were willing to disturb the other’s peace. you’ve both done enough damage, caused enough hurt that would last a lifetime. it’s only by chance that you stumble into him at a new coffee shop - like fate itself worked hard to ensure you swung the door open just as he stepped through the threshold, that your bodies collided at the right moment so you can see the missing half of your soul in each other’s eyes.

choso:

“can we at least be friends?” - how were you supposed to say no after you had just broken him. this man whose sweet heart radiated nothing but gold even though his eyes were full of sadness. he didn't ask you questions as to why you felt the need to end this, didn’t push your decision even though things were going relatively well. you were so thankful because the extent to which he loved you was petrifiying. you just needed to find yourself for a moment - to catch your breath, and ground your feet after floating on air.

it’s hard to ignore that choso shared your body and heart. your friendship is so different, and you can’t help but feel like you were tiptoeing around a minefield. he looks at you with immense hope, and that optimism weakens your will. you don’t want to sell him any dreams unless you were sure yourself. so you try your best to keep things platonic - you make sure that you are never alone with him for too long, give other suitors a chance for casual flings, and even go as far as setting choso up on a date.

you’ve somehow convinced yourself that this is good for you both, until choso asks “do you hate me?” - it hurts seeing him break before your eyes, listening to him question you if you’re doing all this because you don’t want him around you anymore. he tells you that it hurts and you don’t know how to justify any of your actions by using your fear as an excuse. he’s given you no reason to think he won’t cherish your love, and all you can think about is making him smile. waking up tangled between the sheet with him makes you feel sick. your heart races when his arm squeezes around your waist, when his lips brush softly against the back of your neck and you’re burrowing yourself deeper into this hole with no idea how to make it out safely.

#gojo x reader #geto x reader #nanami x reader #choso x reader #jujutsu kaisen hcs #gojo angst #geto angst #nanami angst #choso angst #satoru gojo x reader #geto suguru x reader #kamo choso x reader #nanami kento x reader #jujutsu kaisen fan fiction

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pray4byron · 2 months

Note

Hey Mio-!!! I know your reqs are closed rn so I'm really just leaving this here so I don't forget the idea, but I saw a tiktok that inspired meee and I was thinking what ab a reader who accidentally confesses to Vox/the hazbin people when drunk and based on their reactions maybe thinks they're turning the reader down but they aren't oki bye bye have a good weekend!!!

-🍂anon

𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐳𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐰 + 𝐯𝐞𝐞𝐬 ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

a/n: hello 🍂anon!! i’m so sorry i kept you waiting on this, i couldn’t stop procrastinating it 😭😭 also i’m sorry if vox seems more mean then normal, i feel like i’ve been writing him too victim-y and at the end of the day he’s an asshole too and i tried to show that. but i hope you enjoy!!

warnings: mentions of alcohol/being drunk/drinking/etc, profanity, mentions of sex (no smut), vox being a bit of an asshole <;/3

proofread: HAH! no. (heh, your loss) someone tell me you got that reference 😭😭

including: charlie, vaggie, angel dust, husk, lucifer, vox

tags: hazbin hotel, fanfiction, x reader

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐞

girl is flabbergasted. i mean, she’s always heard the term ‘drunk words are sober thoughts’ or something like that, but she’s surprised you would say that to begin with — true or not.

but obviously, she feels romantically about you, so if it wasn’t true and it was just something you blurted out whilst drunk, she’s gonna be a bit upset

so she tells you, if you really feel that way, you can tell her when you’re sober, and she puts you to bed :)

𝐯𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐞

she can only maintain her calmness for so long until she simply loses her composure, she’s not good at hiding her true feelings and/or thoughts for an extensive period of time

vaggie makes sure you get to bed safe, but she doesn’t bring up until you’re fully sober, she wants your recovery from your hangover to be stress-free and relaxing — not anything that could make you distraught

although, she may or may not dote on you a little extra the next morning…

𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭

angel knows what it’s like to say something you weren’t ready to whilst under the influence, he’s done it more times then he’s willing to admit

so he’s (as sweetly as he can be) stern about being 100% sober whilst making decisions to blurt this kinda stuff out

deep down, angel knows it’s true, he knows you wouldn’t lie to him about smth like that, drunk or not — but he can’t help but in awe in a way

like he’s a famous pornstar, you don’t love him for his money or body or looks, you love him for being anthony, and not angel dust, and he’s simply not used to it

𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐤

husker is a bartender, he’s heard everything in the book, exceeeept someone drunkenly confessing to him while he’s serving them drinks after a shitty night

it’s safe to say… he’s cautious, he’s seen a lot of drunk people do a lot of dumb shit, so he’s unsure if confession is as sincere as it can be

first, he wants to make sure you’re in the right mind before he even thinks before saying he feels the same, he’s been hurt a couple times, and he’s not ready to go through that again, whether he admits it or not

it’ll probably take him a few days until he brings it up, he’s the kinda guy who wants to reflect before making big decisions

𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫

honestly, lucifer is probably the most shocked out of all them, after being divorced for seven years, possibly more, the guy eventually thought he was gonna be forever alone, especially considering he’s the literal king of hell

the thought of that you’re drunk and may not know what you’re getting into doesn’t even cross his mind, he’s had few interactions with women tbh, and most of them were mainly sexual (like with adam’s wives)

so he gets all giddy and happy and accepts your confession immediately ! it doesn’t hit him until a few months into your relationship that he probably should’ve waited until you were sober LOL

𝐯𝐨𝐱

vox, like angel, has never had someone genuinely confess their love to him. he’s had an on-and-off sexual relationship with valentino and gotten creepy love letters from fans — but that’s about it

honestly, as shitty as it he can’t help but take advantage of your drunken state, just slightly.

he sorta feeds into any praise you give him, and will lowkey force it out of you, his ego needs to be fed and it’s only getting started

let’s be real, vox isn’t the most perfect guy around, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t hold a soft spot for you, although, at this point, a solid relationship cannot be promised :(

i do not permit for my work to be reposted, translated, or stolen. all rights go to signedmio. characters are not mine, unless stated, and belong to their rightful creators.

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dizzyjaden · 2 months

Note

hihihi soooo. I want this to involve Kaeya, Xiao, and Dottore (heheh) if that’s okay. Pick whoever u want if only one ! But anyways

What if you’re a member of the armed forces (a knight of Favonius, a member of the millelith, and a fatui agent respectively). And you get injured on the job. Like, injured enough to warrant a hospital stay. Pretty *badly* hurt. What are those three doing, yknow? How do they react? Are they helping? How so? That type of stuff

✦ GENSHIN MEN WHEN YOU GET HURT ✦

Thank you for asking, let's find out.

Pairings: Kaeya, Xiao, Dottore x gn! Reader

♤ Summary: You got hurt and need medical assistance.

♤ Warnings: Severe injury (abdominal stab wound, broken arm, various bruises and cuts), slight yummy angst, soft Dottore

♤ A/N: I know this isn't exactly a request but I'm treating it like a request because I wanna get stuff posted. I'm also really not the best at Kaeya, so forgive me in advance if he's fugly. Enjoy!

Kaeya:

As a knight, you know that when an issue arises in Mondstadt, you’re going to stand on the frontlines for your city. It’s what is expected of you, and what you have accepted for yourself. You don’t mind it, your city is important to you. Your job is important to you. It’s actually how you met your boyfriend, Kaeya, who is also very important to you. Perhaps that’s why when the two of you were out fighting off abyss mages to protect a group of civilians, you threw yourself right in front of him as a shard of ice, summoned by a cryo abyss mage, was sent flying straight towards his chest. Instead of his chest, it impaled you in your stomach, right beneath your ribcage.

It takes him a moment to process what just happened, in an instant everything pauses and he’s focused entirely on you. Needless to say, when he sees you fall to your knees, holding your stomach in agony, he practically rips the remaining mages apart and hurries to tend to you.

Thankfully the wound is not horrifically deep, the distance between you and the mage prevented it from flying fast enough, but you are still bleeding from your stomach, which is rather alarming. He hides his panic though, not wanting to upset you further when you’re already injured. He ties his belt tightly around the wound and picks you up, you’ve never been stabbed before so obviously you’re quite concerned with your injury, because of this he chooses to gaslight you while he rushes to get you back to the city. “It’s fine, I’ve seen way worse! You worry too much.”

Kaeya wants to remain by your side when he does finally get you to a doctor, he is quite irritable when he can’t go back with you but ultimately waits, impatiently so. When you’re all patched up he rushes into the room and gives you a tight, slightly painful hug. When you remind him that you’re freshly injured his face falls and a hurried apology leaves his lips.

The two of you spend the rest of the day laughing and teasing each other about the unfortunate incident, Kaeya is glad it’s already something you can laugh about, but he truthfully feels guilty he let that happen to you when it was such an easy fight. He’ll get you whatever you need until you’re fully recovered.

Xiao:

Honestly, Xiao would just prefer if you called his name before you fought anything. Yes, he knows you’re trained. Yes, he knows you’re strong. But he’s an adeptus and he’s willing to protect you. Why won’t you just utilize that and not put yourself at risk? He doesn’t understand. But he doesn’t ask any questions when he’s called by you in your time of need. He teleports straight to your location, where he finds you gravely injured with multiple gashes and bruises on your body, and a small crowd of ruin guards encircling your fallen figure. He quickly stands in front of you, calculates how much time he has based on the severity of your injuries, and then tears them all to shreds.

As he fights he counts each second that passes, thinking about your blood loss. He manages to defeat them in thirty-one seconds, but he was planning on thirty. He teleports back to you, picks you up, and then teleports you to the nearest hospital. You’re too weak at this point to really register anything so he hands you over to the doctors wordlessly and then leaves you there.

When you’re fixed up and a bit more conscious, you quickly call his name and he meekly appears with a bouquet of flowers he’d gathered while you were getting treated. “For the single second that I let you bleed.” He explains his intention behind the small gift. He’s convinced you’ve probably been irritated at him since you got to the hospital, but you are entirely unsure of what he means. Xiao is such a perfectionist when it comes to keeping you safe, but you’re just grateful he came at all. When you take his gift, you express this and he isn’t sure what to make of it, but he doesn’t wish to make it a bigger deal than he already has so he simply nods and then lectures you for nearly an hour about not calling sooner.

Dottore:

When Dottore hears from an associate that you’ve been injured while out on a mission, he is right on it. He doesn’t ask any questions about your condition, he can figure that out when he finds you. And when he does, he is livid. Whatever opponent you faced completely broke your arm! It doesn’t matter if you were already about to receive treatment, he trusts nobody but himself to help you. As a harbinger, what he says goes so he’s going to take care of it.

While he’s fixing your arm he’s asking you questions about who did this to you. He’s disappointed to hear you already managed to defeat them. He was hoping to have the opportunity to make their death so much longer than the merciful quick bullet you gave them. But, at least they aren’t alive anymore.

Once that’s out of the way, he gives you gentle kisses and hushed words of comfort to take care of you. Really, it’s not that big of a deal to a fatui soldier like yourself and you find his reaction dramatic, but he likes taking care of you and he just has to smother you right now so, tough luck I guess.

He makes sure you take it easy for a while, not allowing you to do anything strenuous. If you happen to argue with him about it, he’ll simply order you to stay home and rest. He’s a harbinger, remember?

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfics #fanfiction #fanfic #genshin xiao #xiao x reader #dottore #dottore x reader #il dottore #il dottore x reader #kaeya alberich #kaeya x reader #hcs genshin men #genshin x reader

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sainns · 23 days

Text

until i opened my eyes ( nishimura riki )

femreader angst hurt/no comfort & toxic!situationship!riki — why has it taken so long to realize how awful he is?

cw riki is toxic and mean, bittersweet ending imo, no part two ㅤ& 1.4k words

note @nishions hi sorry. anyways this is probs the longest thing ive written in months ☺️ like and subscribe (reblog) please

you always thought that you had a bit more respect for yourself before you got together with riki. maybe it was your fault; you’d never set explicit boundaries or gotten mad at him for anything that he’s done, instead brushing it off as him not being fully ready for a relationship yet.

and that was okay with you, you could understand why he didn’t want to date you. you were content with the small affections he would give you when you were alone, simply ignoring every red flag, no matter how bright they were.

you let him treat you poorly simply because you’ve liked the boy for almost as long as you’ve known him. it was easy to forget about him pretending to not know you in public when he would bring you your favorite foods on days when you were stressed. it was too easy to forget about him only messaging you at atrocious hours of the night when he would watch your favorite shows just so you could talk about it together for hours.

you were fine until you found yourself upset more often than not. all because of him and his actions towards you, it was embarrassing to say the least. the one friend you had told about riki was iroha, and she despised him (with good reason), she was always urging you to get out of this relationship, but you didn’t listen.

eventually, though, you stopped enjoying the limited time that you actually spent together because it somehow always ended up in an argument, him storming out and you ending up alone like you always were when it came to being with him.

“you can’t seriously be mad at me right now. you’re making a big deal out of nothing,” he scoffs, running a hand through his messy hair.

you're used to this. you're always the dramatic one, everything you do is wrong. he's never wrong and if you so much as imply that he is then you're the bad guy. you're just disregarding his feelings and being an awful person.

“i just – i don’t understand why you would do that. it’s like you’re actively trying to ruin my relationships with people,” you’re sitting on your couch as you watch riki pacing in front of you. he stops when you speak, furrowing his eyebrows as he turns his head to look at you.

you can feel a pit form in your stomach.

“i didn’t know you were in a ‘relationship’ with him,”

“it's not like that, he’s just my friend, ki,”

he hums, nodding his head, “uh huh,” he stares you down. it feels uncomfortable, it’s like he’s trying to think of the worst thing he could possibly say to you, “you don’t treat him like a friend. you’re around him all the time, god. you’re, like, almost as clingy with him as you are with me. it’s weird,”

you resist the urge to scoff, knowing that he’ll only use it against you — “wow, so i can’t say what i feel now? you’re just gonna be a bitch about it?” — like he always does.

you guess you’re silent for too long because he mumbles something under his breath, you aren’t sure what, and he speaks to you once again, “yn, seriously. what’s your fucking problem?”

“what’s your problem? you’ve been really mean to me lately,”

“whatever, dude. if i’m so mean then i’ll just leave,”

you don’t bother trying to stop him as he grabs his stuff angrily. he slips his shoes on and his hoodie that was sitting next to you before he took it. you watch him intently, taking note of the crease between his eyebrows and his darkened eyes. you know what he looks like when he’s mad and this isn’t it, you don’t know what he’s feeling right now.

in all honestly, you don’t know anything about him. this whole thing was superficial; you like him but he doesn’t like you. he only likes the attention you give him, the way that you’ll drop everything just for the chance to be in his presence. it boosts his ego and it hurts yours.

iroha told you, she warned you multiple times that the longer you stayed with him the worse it was going to get, but you crave his attention. no matter how hard you tried to stop, you just couldn’t do it. not when he would text you saying that he missed your voice, that he missed hanging out with you.

maybe there’s something wrong with you. realistically, you know that there isn’t, that this isn’t totally your fault, but it truly felt like it was. why doesn’t he like you the way that you like him? what is so wrong with you that he can’t like you back? he used to compliment you all the time in the beginning, he told you everything a girl wants to hear from the boy she likes, but eventually he stopped. maybe it’s because he realized that he already had you hooked, he didn’t need to put in all that ‘extra’ work.

it’s only been seven months since you and him started whatever this is, and it’s been three months of you feeling the most unwanted you’ve ever felt in your life. you can’t believe it’s taken ninety days for you to realize that maybe it isn’t worth it. it never was.

“text me when you fix your shit, alright?” you’re broken out of your thoughts when you hear his voice again. you focus on his figure, staring at him. he wasn’t worth all of this pain, as dramatic as that sounds. you could easily find somebody else, somebody who actually cared about you.

“i don’t want to text you. i don’t want to do this with you anymore,”

you can tell your words surprise him. his eyes widen briefly and you can see him flinch slightly, as if the mere thought of you breaking it off is hurting him. sure, you’ve tried ending things before but this is the first time you’ve sounded so sure of it. this time you really weren’t going to text him, you weren’t going to call him, and you weren’t going to beg for his attention.

“seriously?” his voice is the softest you’ve ever heard it and it almost makes you change your mind, but you don’t.

“yeah,”

he walks back towards you, cautiously, like he’s afraid you’re going to do something to him if he gets too close. once he sees that you aren’t going to hit and scream at him, he kneels down in front of you, his hands resting on your thighs.

“baby, this isn’t even a big fight, what do you mean? are you for real dumping me?”

you laugh bitterly, pushing his hands off of you, “i can’t dump you if we weren’t ever dating, riki,”

“you know what i mean, yn,” you can hear the annoyance creeping into his voice, the sweet and vulnerable tone from earlier disappearing as quickly as it came. this solidified everything for you; no matter how nice he pretends to be, he will never treat you right. his mood changes every time your mouth opens, every time you try arguing your side. he isn’t healthy for you.

“just leave already. i don’t want to do this, i’m serious,” you push him back gently, making enough room for you to stand and walk over to the door, pulling it open, “please, just go. you never had a problem with it before,”

he stares at you for a brief moment, not even having the decency to make eye contact with you as he says, “you’re being fucking dramatic, but fine. don’t text me when you realize you fucked up,” riki stands, finally leaving. he bumps his shoulder against yours when he exits, pulling the door out of your grasp just so he can slam it shut.

you blink, scrunching your nose up at his display of pure immaturity. despite that ending though, you can practically feel all of the tension leaving your body. you feel like you can finally breath again. you’re glad you finally opened your eyes, that you got out of the lovesick haze he had you trapped in for so long.

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idanceuntilidie · 4 months

Text

I have no idea- I was thinking about this yesterday and today in the end I wrote it

chaos chaos enjoy and Im gonna go shower and mir mir don’t commit crimes when Im gone

Tw: slightly suggestive themes, yandere behaviour

Yandere classmate x male reader

Requests are open.

You know where to find me And I know where to look

They boy hummed, his fingers gently playing with your hair. It felt like the finest silk; just like he imagined. A small smile appears on his face,

You were so blissfully unaware, sleeping like a baby and missing out on lectures again.

He twirled the lock of your hair before cutting it off. His smile widened, admiring it, another part of you that he can add to his collection.

He never thought that he could find a boy attractive, but here you were, blissfully unaware of him watching your every step.

You stole his heart, ripped it out of his chest. Still beating, for you.

He laid his head next to yours, and closed his eyes. Your scent enveloping his senses as he slowly drifted to sleep.

The bell rang.

You sit up, mind still half awake, you stretch.

Your eyes widen as you realize the class is already empty. You quickly stand up, swaying a bit due to not being fully awake. Wiping off the droll, you pack your things, you hear a soft click and when you look up you see one of the most popular boys standing in front of you, phone in hand and smiling. His pale blue eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Hi hun! Look how cute you look in this photo!”

He chirped, waving the phone in front of you.

He fucking took a photo of you.

„Celeste delete it!” You desperately lunged at him to get his phone, you failed. He stumbled back and thanks to stupid luck he dodged your attack.

Celeste giggled like a child, correcting his sweater.

“Celeste I beg you! Fucking delete the photo” you begged, eyes glossing over.

“Only if you give me a biiiig kiss” he clapped his hands.

Your face twisted into a grimace, you tried to see if the two of his friends came with him to record this. You couldn’t really see them, but it didn’t mean that they couldn’t be here.

“.. Go fuck yourself.”

You grabbed your bag and rushed out of the classroom.

Celeste huffed as he watched you run out of the classroom.

He sat on the nearby desk, unlocking his phone.

Celeste scrolled through the new photos of you. His pale face dusting with pink, a shy smile formed on his lips. Too easy. He added the photos to his wide collection.

Scrolling through the photos, his smile widens. Some of them are blurry but Celeste doesn’t mind, every photo he takes of you is perfect in every aspect.

He sighs, he wanted that kiss. He bought the cherry flavored chapstick for nothing.

You walked through the halls and checked your bag. Few things were missing from your bag, you must have forgotten them somewhere.

You lost too much of your stuff already, you can’t believe you started being so forgetful.

At least Celeste didn’t follow you.

Finally you found a safe corner and sat down.

Running your hand through your hair you notice some of it is shorter than the rest.

You curse under your breath. Goddamn it, you feel like you are in elementary school all over again.

“Y/N?”

“Marceline oh my God thank Gods you are here I-“

„Listen, we can’t be friends anymore.” she interrupts you.

You look at her in disbelief. She didn’t even look at you, she played with her fingers. Her back hair covered her face and you couldn’t make out the expression.

Your mouth opened, to say something, anything but nothing came out. You felt hurt, betrayed. Marceline didn’t budge for a bit, you could feel her stare on you. Unfocused, hot and burning.

You felt dizzy, this was too much.

Marceline, seeing you had nothing to say, muttered a small apology and walked away.

You didn’t even have the energy to go and run after her.

You felt tears build up. You sniffed and hid your face in your arms.

Celeste grabbed Marceline's hand, she looked at him with pure hatred.

“He is crying because of you”

“Hm, no, he is crying because of you, because you wanted to save your ass” he says, giving him a painfully obvious fake smile.

Marceline felt her blood boil. She roughly pulled her hand away and before storming off he heard her yell insults at him.

Celeste smiled and waved at her, he pulled out his phone and stopped the recording. He will edit it later, it could be useful.

He slowly walked to you, you were crying eh? Man, he needs to take some photos! And God, if he could find your used tissues. Celeste felt his face get hot at the mere thought.

When he finally reached you, he thanked whatever was out there. That you didn’t notice him.

You were such a mess, sitting on the floor sobbing. It was all thanks to him, he smiled widely. His breath had gotten heavy, he rubbed his thighs together and took out his phone. Time for a few new photos.

#yandere classmate #yan classmate #yandere male #yandere #yandere oc #male yan #male yandere x male reader #yandere x male reader #yandere classmate x reader #yandere classmate x male reader #tw yandere #oc yandere #yandere blog #yandere x darling #x reader #x male reader #amab reader #male reader

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thefreakandthehair · 2 months

Text

we feel a little warmer now.

rating: teen & up | wc: 1.1k | tags: canon-typical injuries, pre-relationship, getting together, fluff, light hurt/comfort | prompt: love is a fire that never goes out @steddielovemonth & a happy birthday gift for @henderdads! title from the woods, by hollow coves.

February in Indiana is still the dead of winter— cornfields are barren, trees sway in the wind without their leaves, and the sky seems to have a sheer layer of grey even on the cloudless days.

Eddie’s always loved winter. The shorter days followed by longer nights, snowy Sundays, watching the smoke from a joint or cigarette dance in the freezing air, and excuses to do donuts in the local abandoned grocery store parking lot. He’s always loved winter, or at least he did until his world shattered at his feet, leaving him with injuries that take ages to heal and scars that leave him perpetually cold.

It’s been difficult to explain, even to the people who’d lived it with him. He can’t fully enjoy winter anymore because the cold seeps into his bones, maybe through the scars, maybe just because of the nerve damage. He’ll never know for sure because Hawkins General doesn’t exactly have a Demobat Specialist on staff so he just keeps it to himself.

Well, mostly. Steve knows.

Hiding anything from Steve has proven impossible. His constant chill, his frustration with the new but still-improving limp, the grief, the guilt, the confusing simultaneous euphoria of survival. The only secret he’s managed to keep is the big fat crush he’s harbored, probably since Steve helped find him in the woods.

Maybe earlier. Maybe since high school. He tries not to think about it too much.

The point is, Steve knows and even if Eddie hasn’t said that it breaks his heart to lose the quiet winter nights smoking on the porch or the hood of his van, Steve figures that out, too.

He must, because Eddie nearly jumps out of his freezing skin when knuckles rap on the front door of his and Wayne’s new trailer. There’s a system these days: check the peep hole, crack the door with the chain still attached to confirm, and only then does Eddie open the door completely. An unfortunate system, but he’s far from the town hero that Steve’s been hailed as, albeit against his will.

Speaking of, through the peep hole, he sees Steve standing on his porch wrapped in what looks like a thick hoodie and winter coat.

“Who goes there?” Eddie asks, cracking the door and peering out with one eye.

“It’s me, you ass. Let me in, I have a surprise.”

The door chain unhooks with a metallic click and Steve enters the trailer like he belongs there.

Because he does, Eddie thinks.

“A surprise? For me? Oh, do tell.”

Steve stands in the living room, a live wire if Eddie’s ever seen one. His hair is a little messy, as though he’s been raking his fingers through it. His nose is pink, complemented by his frosty cheeks, and his eyes are wide and wild.

“If it’s overstepping or whatever, we can pretend I never mentioned it but I know how much you miss winter nights. And I uh, I built a fire pit at my house?” His voice pitches up, as though it’s a question.

“You built a fire pit? Today?”

Steve nods. “Yeah. It was a lot easier than I thought it would be honestly, time consuming but, yeah. I built a fire pit. And I was thinking that maybe with the fire and some blankets and a good jacket— a real winter coat, not just your leather jacket— you might be able to get some of that back.”

Eddie tries his best not to think about Steve lugging brick pavers and forcing them into place, thinking about Eddie and his stupid broken internal thermostat. Wanting to give him back something the Upside Down took. Worrying Eddie would somehow see this as overstepping.

It’s a quick Yes and even quicker drive to Loch Nora, a drive that Eddie’s always found hilarious. How can two neighborhoods exist so close together but feel like different worlds?

The whole way there, Eddie keeps Steve talking. If Steve’s talking, there’s less room for Eddie to spill yet another truth inadvertently, the only one left to spill. Instead, he asks questions about work, and Robin, and if he’s heard from his parents.

(“It sucks,” “she’s great,” “nope”. In that order.)

Pulling into the driveway, Eddie hops out of the car as best he can in one of Wayne’s old winter coats and follows Steve to the backyard. His jaw drops when he sees exactly what Steve’s done. More than a simple circle of bricks, there’s a pit made of concrete blocks in the center of a larger circle filled with wood chips and grey pavers marking the perimeter. Wood logs are already split in a pile off to the side next to two lawn chairs and dear God, Eddie really hopes that Steve bought that already split. He’s still not over him swinging on demobats with his bare hands, and the image of him with an axe is enough to put him down for good.

“C’mon, I’ll get it started,” Steve nudges their shoulders together and walks through the pit to the stack of logs.

Steve gets a roaring fire going, the kind that cracks and burns both red and blue, and passes Eddie an extra blanket. Flames dance beneath the clear sky, speckled with stars that do little to distract him from how unbearably warm he is for the first time in months.

People don’t just do things like this for him, not without expectation or out of obligation. So much of Eddie’s life has felt like a spectrum spanning from pity to transactional with very few exceptions in between.

Then again, Steve feels like an exception to a lot of things.

“Why?” Eddie eventually asks, exhaling a puff of cigarette smoke like a kid seeing his breath.

Steve shrugs and tosses the butt of his own cigarette into the flames. “You lost enough down there, and I know how that feels. If there’s something easy enough to fix, I want to. You deserve that.”

Eddie turns and sees Steve smiling, just a soft upturn of his lips as he looks up at the sky. His face is flushed and Eddie wants to think it’s not from the flames.

“You’re really something, you know that?” Eddie says, scooting his chair over close enough for the arms of their chairs to nearly touch.

Steve looks back from the sky to Eddie, long lashes and the scar on his neck on full display.

“That a good thing?”

Eddie nods. “Oh yeah, definitely. Maybe the best thing.”

They sit outside for hours, eventually sharing a blanket draped around their shoulders and a first kiss that lights him up from the inside.

Eddie’s warm long after the fire burns out.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steddielovemonth #myblurbs #please consider reblogging if you enjoy <3 #also the song really lends a vibe to this and it's one of my favs so consider this a music rec too lmao

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the-traveling-poet · 5 months

Note

hi Lynn!! I’ve been binge reading your profile and let me tell you, I love your reading. May I request some Levi x reader fluff where they're married n have a 3 y/o daughter named kutchel. Levi's wife is 8 months along with their 2nd kid. They're all excited n kutchel just wants to play. Kutchel tries to drag reader along to play but reader is very exhausted n cant keep up w kutchel but still tries to hide her exhaustion n make her happy. Levi comes back from the tea shop or something after work, and it’s worried his wife will overexert herself n tries to make both his girls happy? Thank youu ❤️ (Post-war, canon Au)

Family

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It seems three years was all the time it took for you and your husband to fully embrace your new lives together.

After the war, you were finally able to just focus on the two of you rather than possible impending dooms around every corner. And you couldn’t have been more grateful for the break. Engagement, marriage, conception and childbirth were all things you never imagined you’d have the luxury to experience with Levi, but after finding out you were pregnant with your second child, the reality of it all became oh so sweeter.

But eight months into the second journey, you learn that sometimes you do still need some help from your lover. And Levi is happy to provide.

══════════════════════

Pairing: Husband/Father!Levi x Wife/Mother!Reader

Warnings: Post-war, pregnancy, parenting stress

taglist: @21aurora @deepzombieyouth @braunsbabe

══════════════════════

A/N: Absolutely anon! I hope I did this justice for ya, I don’t have kids of my own so I hope I got this right! Sorry for the wait, work got in the way.

As always if anything written doesn’t fit your preferences, I’ll happily rewrite!

Enjoy~

══════════════════════

“Mama!”

The drawn out cry made you sigh. Not in annoyance. Never, in annoyance. Rather, it was a sigh of your ever growing fatigue. Staggering to your feet, you stood from the couch with a labored breath and turned to face your daughter with a careful smile.

“Yes, Kuchel?” You asked softly. No matter how tired you became, nor how round your belly grew, you’d always have the energy to tend to your daughter’s ever growing list of demands.

Kuchel raced about the living room, giggling happily as she babbled on about something or another that had prompted her to gain your attention. You couldn’t help but wearily smile; just where did she get all this energy from? And where could you find some?

With a hand in your belly to support the weight, you grunted as you crouched down to your knees to catch your daughter as she raced closer to you than the child suspected she had. With a shrill cry that stung your ears, she flopped around haphazardly in your arms once you nabbed her.

“Wanna go see papa!” Kuchel cried out in a mixture of laughter and whining. Heaving a sigh, you prepared yourself to remind her, once again, that her father away still away at work.

“Honey, daddy’s still at the tea shop. He should be back in only an hour!” You cheered her on, hoping your joyous tone would distract her from the fact her perception of time was all but nonexistent.

“An hour?!” she pouted, shooting you a look from under her unruly black curls. Silver eyes pouted up at you from your lap, making you smile at the resemblance that mirrored her father’s.

“I know baby, I know. We just have to be patient, yeah? When daddy gets home, you can greet him at the door. But no jumping, you hear? We can’t have you straining daddy’s leg again.” You reminded her, sternly but still lovingly.

Kuchel pouted in your lap, then hastily stood.

“But…If I can’t climb daddy, why he so tall?”

Her question left you speechless. Oh, the odd question from a child who could only string together simple sentences.

“You can climb daddy when he’s sat down. Otherwise, you’ll tip over his cane and strain his knee. You don’t want daddy to hurt, do you?”

Immediately Kuchel’s face sobered in expression, her eyes wide and plump lips parted.

“No! Not hurt daddy,” she scoffed, so much like the way her father did.

I guess more than physical traits are genetic, you thought with a sigh. Struggling over your very much pregnant belly, you managed to stand yourself back up. Watching your energetic three year old bounce excitedly across the room, and glancing down at your swollen abdomen, you really couldn’t find any room to complain.

“I miss daddy too,” you interrupted her ranting, “But he’ll be home soon enough. Now,”

Walking over to your kitchen, you pulled a knife out of your cutlery draw and picked an apple from a woven basket sat atop the counter.

Re-locking the drawer, (you can’t trust young children to not open any door or cabinet they can reach) you picked up a plate and began to cut.

“How about you enjoy a nice snack before dinner while you wait for daddy, and I’ll take a rest on the couch with you?”

“But you just got off the couch, and it’s daytime!” Kuchel pouted, the pitter patter of her bare feet sounding off the tiled floor as she waddled her way into the kitchen to watch.

“I know honey, I know.” Sighing, your subconsciously placed a hand over your belly, feeling the baby within gently press against your touch.

“Growing a baby makes mommy tired. It takes a lot of energy, even if I’m not moving.”

Kuchel stared on in silence, her bright eyes staring at your enlarged belly deep in thought. After a moment, she shrugged.

“That’s weird. Why did you grow one of it makes you sleepy?”

“Well, both your father and I wanted another baby. You’ll be a big sister, yknow that?” You hummed over your shoulder as you finished peeling the apple and handing her the plate.

“I guess so,” Kuchen mumbled as she bit into an apple slice. Seeing she was satisfied, you slowly made your way over to the couch to lie back down. After a moment, you felt your daughter struggle to climb up onto the furniture to join you. With a sleepy smile, you ruffled her hair and closed your eyes.

“Wanna go outside and play pretend?” Kuchel suddenly asked, disrupting the peaceful silence around you.

Heaving a sigh, you gave her a tired smile over your shoulder.

Please, Levi. Get home soon…

════════════════════════════════════════

A single click of the lock on his front door made any tension leave Levi’s shoulders. Finally, he was home.

Since he was a young teenager, he’d always dreamed of the day he could open up his own shop and run a peaceful business. And sure, he very much enjoyed his craft for brewing and steeping various drinks for anyone who stepped foot through door of his small shop.

But at the end of the day, there was nothing he enjoyed more than returning home to his small family. Listening to his daughter’s excited squeals as she tried to climb him like a tree in the threshold, seeing his wife’s radiant, and relieved, smile ever present on her face when they reunited in the safety of their home.

Though he dreaded leaving them for this sole reason, it made coming home every day so much more sweeter.

Heaving a sigh, Levi twisted the door knob open and stepped into their home.

The silence that met him immediately concerned him. Looking around, he saw no trace of his child or lover. Tensing up, he looked for any sign of their whereabouts.

There’s no way in hell Y/N convinced Kuchel to nap. That kid doesn’t sleep.

Shuffling his way further inside, he leaned on his cane to remove his shoes as he peered around corners. Just when he started to let panic take over, a jarring bang sounded from the kitchen.

Limping along as fast as he could, he tried his best to keep the panic from taking over. But the moment he rounded the last corner, all traces of worry faded away. Though slightly miffed, Levi couldn’t help but smirk to himself ever so slightly.

Sat in the middle of the kitchen floor and covered in both dirt and flour sat his child. He watched her tracing patterns in the mess on the floor, babbling to herself for every shape she drew. Levi cleared his through after a moment, trying his hardest to appear stern.

But he never could with his little girl.

Kuchel whipped her head around with a gasp, eyes widening at being caught. But soon enough a shrill giggle bubbled out of her throat and echoed off the walls.

“Daddy!” Kuchel cried out, slipping to her feet to tackle him in a hug. Biting back a grimace, Levi put an arm around her shoulder and peered down at her.

“What are you doing, Kuchel?” He asked in an even tone.

“Playing!” She replied innocently, blinking white powder from her eyelashes. Biting back a sigh, Levi picked her up and positioned her on his hip.

“Where’s mommy?” He asked her, brushed some dirt from her nose.

“Sleeping, again,” his daughter pouted, playing with the buttons in his coat.

“You probably tired her out, brat. Come on, we’ll get you a bath then clean this mess up.” Levi mused, unable to keep up his ‘stern father’ facade. Setting her back down he let her tug at his hand as she led the way to the bathroom, babbling and giggling all the way. They passed through the living room, seeing you slumped on the couch.

Ruffled hair, mismatched clothes, large belly poking out from under your tee shirt, lips parted and slightly chapped; Levi could only chuckle to himself as he continued on through the room.

“You know, mommy does a lot for you. For us,” Levi spoke quietly to his daughter.

“And look how pretty she looks while doing it.”

“Prettyyy,” Kuchel whispered in agreement, smiling up towards her father.

With an approving nod, they continued on.

“Now go on, get. Grab a change of clothes while I start the bath.”

════════════════════════════════════════

Hearing muffled giggles and low voices, you squinted your eyes open in confusion. It wasn’t but five minuets ago your daughter was bouncing on your legs, begging to go outside and play, wasn’t it? Yet looking out the window settled into the far wall you saw the last rays of the sun poking through emerald colored leaves from your front yard. Groaning, you sat yourself up and instinctively checked your belly with a soft touch. Feeling the baby stir ever so slightly, you smiled in relief.

Another loud giggle interrupted your train of thought, bringing you back to the present. Furrowing your brows, you could only imagine what Kuchel had found to occupy herself with while waiting on you to awaken and for Levi to return.

Levi…

Staggering through the living room, you peered into the kitchen to see just what the young girl was up to.

Stood in the center of the room was your daughter; a white cloth tied loosely around the bottom half of her face and a broom in her tiny hand. In front of her stood Levi; a cloth to match her’s adorning his face as he held a dust pan.

“Come on brat, it’s not that hard. I hold the pan, you brush the dirt and flour into the pan. We’ve been over this.”

“This isn’t play!” Kuchel whined, stomping her tiny foot.

“Sure it is. We’re playing cleaning; it’s the best game.”

“No it’s not!”

An unbidden chuckle escaped you, but the hand covering your mouth did nothing to muffle the noise. Both heads of raven hair shot up to stare at you in surprise as they let their cleaning supplies fall to their sides.

“Mommy!”

“Babe?”

Not knowing who to focus on first, you decided on both at the same time. Staggering forward, you ruffled Kuchel’s hair as you placed a soft kiss on Levi’s cheek.

His eyes softened significantly as he draped an arm over your shoulders and pulled you into his chest. Holding him tightly, you draped one of your arms over his shoulder while the other rested on Kuchel’s head. Giving them a playful glare, you looked over the half cleaned mess on the floor.

“Now just what is all this?” You questioned in mock demand. Neither of the two would meet your eye for a moment as you looked them over. Grunting something incoherent under his breath, Levi stopped down to pick up your daughter and hold her against the both of you.

“We’re playing cleaning,” Levi explained quickly, much to Kuchel’s dismay.

“No! It’s not play, it’s chores. Daddy tricked me!”

“I wouldn’t have had to if you hadn’t made this mess in the first place.” Levi scoffed, shooting her a betrayed look.

“But I want to play outside,” Kuchel pouted. Smiling softly to yourself, you glanced up at Levi with a raised brow.

“Honey, would you mind playing with Kuchel outside for a little bit? The mess can wait; I’m exhausted and she hasn’t slowed down once today.”

Thought you thought he might pause and think up a protest, Levi didn’t. With a soft peck to your lips, his eyes lit up with a smile he so seldomly showed.

“Of course darling. Go back to resting. Kuchel and I will be out in the yard if you need anything.”

Giving him a grateful smile, you stepped back to let Kuchel fall to her feet with an excited giggle.

As she raced to put on her shoes, Levi took a step closer to you and placed a careful hand onto your belly. You both chuckled upon feeling a tiny kick against his palm.

“Missed you,” Levi whispered, leaning in to capture your lips in a longer kiss. After a passionate moment, you broke away and smiled thankfully up at him.

“I missed you too. Come join me once you’ve tired out Kuchel?”

“Give me ten minuets,” Levi mumbled against your lips before pulling back with a small smirk, seemingly already having forgotten about the messy kitchen.

As you watched them exit the house, you couldn’t help but to chuckle to yourself where you stood leaning against the wall.

Lord, what had you done to deserve them?

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ovaryacted · 3 months

Note

Having the worst period cramps I've had in a while, so may I request a lil bit of period fluff with re2 leon?

Hey there anon! So sorry to hear that your period cramps are especially bad this time around, I really hate when that happens. Even though it's been a while since you sent this in, I hope this little drabble piece will bring you some comfort. Also hoping that your period is a bit better now too, take care. 🩶

1.1k words | cw: fluff, modernized RE2 Leon x reader, mentions of menstrual cycle

It doesn’t matter how often you forgot you had a cycle, the moment the red river of doom appeared every month it still always took you off guard. It was always the same, the cramps, the sickly flow, the soreness, the heat flashes, and the lightheadiness followed by nausea and loss of appetite. It was all too damn much.

You hated it, and it always put a damper on your mood and disrupted your routine. If you were allowed to pause your cycle like a subscription, you absolutely would. Sadly, periods don’t work that way. To make matters worse, this particular cycle seemed to be harsher than the ones you’ve had before. The cramps were more like consistent punches to the gut than the usual pinch that eventually went away.

Currently in bed doubled over with a hand over your heating pad, it was the only position you found to be comfortable. Frankly, you felt like shit, the constant pain in your body was putting you through a whirlwind of emotions that could quickly spiral out of control if you let it. Instinctively, you curled more into yourself, a fresh wave of cramps making your whole body shiver from the strength of it.

What did I do to deserve this treatment?

Before your thoughts could get any more melancholic, you heard the bedroom door creak open. Lifting your head at the noise, your eyes peeled away from the current tiktok on your phone to meet with crystal blues that felt warmer than anything else.

“Hey sweetheart”, Leon said softly, coming towards you on your side of the bed. He already knew what was going on, could tell from the way you were snuggled up and wore his hoodie to comfort yourself.

“Hey”, your voice was rather meek, not fully meeting the blonde in the eye for a moment before your body changed angles, turning so you’d face him on the edge of the bed instead. He had a mug in his hand and placed it down on the bedside table, probably something for you to drink as you huddled up in your bedroom.

“Brought you some tea and Midol that might help. Are you holding up okay?”, he asked, running a soft hand over your cheek. You accepted the touch, sighing at the gentle contact.

“Trying to, the cramps are beating my ass this time around”, you muttered, groaning in discomfort when your point was proven as you felt the familiar spasms in your gut again. “Can’t believe I’m being punished because I didn’t pop out a damn baby”

That got you a light chuckle from Leon who gave you a sympathetic look. His fingers on your cheek went towards your head, running his digits through your scalp as if he were petting you like a cat. His touch was a mere distraction from the ache you felt, like an intense push and pull in your pelvis that just couldn’t be stopped.

“Is it that bad now? I’m sorry hun”, of course, he was trying to be supportive. He’s only seen your cycle impact you this badly a handful of times, and every time he wishes he could take that pain away so you never had to deal with it again.

“Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?”

“Is getting rid of my uterus an option?”, you were joking, but with how you felt, you had half a mind to consider it before your next period hit.

“I’m just a guy babe, not a board-certified surgeon. If I was, it would be an option”, he could only entertain the thought, ever the considerate guy. At least he made you laugh a bit, even if it hurt to do so.

“How about I go and get you some food? Do you have any specific requests?”, Leon didn’t mind getting stuff for you, hell that was what he enjoyed doing. Whatever it took to make you feel less irritable, he’d do it.

“Maybe a sandwich of some kind? I don’t know, I’m just craving something to munch on”, sometimes you were timid in asking for things, as if you didn’t have a boyfriend who would drop everything to give you the world and more.

“Want me to go get you that burger from your favorite place? With an order of curly fries and a milkshake right?”, Leon saw the way your eyes brightened up at the thought of getting some greasy food you liked, and he only smiled back at you.

“Yeah, that would be nice”

“Burger, fries, and a milkshake coming right up. Take some of the pills and drink your tea, I’ll be back alright?”, you nodded, Leon leaned down to give you a soft kiss on your forehead. He got up from the bed, giving you one more glance before walking out of your shared room. You could hear him grab the keys to his jeep from the trinket bowl in the entryway and close the door behind him, taking a Midol pill and downing it with some tea as you waited for his return.

It was 40 minutes of scrolling on TikTok and trying to find something to watch on Netflix before you heard the door of your apartment open and close again. There was the shuffling of what sounded like multiple bags, Leon coming in to peek his head through the bedroom door with a plastic bag in hand and a milkshake in the other.

“So, I went on a quick shopping trip. Got your food, and some more of what you need for this time so you can be stocked up. I didn’t know if you wanted your chips or anything, so I just got you everything you liked. Oh, and I found those frozen chocolate-covered strawberry treats you liked, just figured you’d want some later”, Leon placed the milkshake down on your bedside table, giving you a sheepish grin as you raised an eyebrow at him.

“You didn’t have to get all of that for me…”, it still surprised you how Leon was willing to give you what you wanted without having to lift a finger.

“Yeah, I did. Wanted you to have what you needed, it’s not a big deal”, he shrugged, kissing you on the lips which you happily received with a hum.

“Besides, I don’t like seeing you cranky. Best to avoid any possibility of a tantrum”, you rolled your eyes at that, shaking your head but your lips curled in a smile.

“I love you”, one of your fingers curled around a blonde strand of hair that fell in front of his face.

“I love you too silly. Now eat so we can watch something, I saw that they just put some new rom-com on Netflix”, Leon said excitedly, finding the remote to the TV as you began to dig in the bag to take a bite out of a curly fry.

Sure, this cycle may be bad, but you’ll be able to get through it so long Leon was there to help.

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy headcanons #leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy imagines #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil leon kennedy #resident evil drabble #resident evil imagines #ovaryacted asks #ovaryacted drabbles

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sanjoongie · 3 months

Text

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝔽𝕚𝕧𝕖: 𝔻𝕒𝕔𝕣𝕪𝕡𝕙𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕒

🥀Pairing: Golden Retriever! Yunho x Owner! Reader (f)

🥀Genre: Smut

🥀Rating: 18+, Minors Do not Interact

🥀Au: hybrid au

🥀Trope: established relationship

🥀Summary: you guide your golden retriever hybrid boyfriend through his first time and you discover you have an affinity for his pretty face when he cries

🥀Kinks: dacryphilia, collar & leash, sub! yunho, soft dom! reader, first time! yunho, corruption kink, begging, yunho gets dumb when he fucks its okay we forgive him

🥀Word Count: 1,161

🥀Betas: @mejuii (for your good behavior 😏)@flurrys-creativity @downtoamagicalland

🥀network tag: @monsterfvckersunited

🥀Day Four: Public Sex 🥀Mini Masterlist 🥀Day Six: Auralism/ Sensory Deprivation

“You ready, Pup?” Your raised lower half was posed above Yunho’s cock that was dripping precum from its slit. You had it twitching in your hand, angled to penetrate you. You just needed the go ahead.

Yunho nodded, a slight pout pushing his lower lip out.

“Yunho,” You said his name in a singsong voice, “You gotta use your words for me.”

Yunho’s ears were already rosy red which you found adorable, but he simply could not get his embarrassment under control, it seemed. “Please, I want it,” Yunho mumbled.

You chucked Yunho’s chin to make him meet your eyes. “You can do better,” You gently scolded him.

Yunho whined, “Please be my first time. Please, put my big dick inside of you. Please, please please.”

You squeezed the base of his cock in encouragement, making Yunho buck his hips with a low grunt. “Good job, Pup.”

You rubbed the head of his dick against your folds before slowly but surely taking him inside of you. You keep an eye on your golden retriever hybrid to make sure he’s good. His eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes are squeezed shut. His hands wander along his bed, no idea where he should be putting them. You laugh lightly under your breath and grab his hands and put them on your hips.

Once he’s fully seated in you and he opens his eyes, you get to see just how wet his eyes are and you can’t help but coo. “Okay?” You check in with him.

“Okay,” Yunho echoed back.

“I’m gonna start moving, okay?”

Yunho nodded and then his eyes widened when he realized he wasn’t being verbal like you instructed him. “I can handle it.”

The minute you started to move up and down on Yunho was when the waterworks started. Slowly tears started to stream down his face and your heart caught in the back of your throat.

“Pup…it doesn’t hurt, does it?” You paused your motions to check in once more. Anything to maintain Yunho’s comfortability.

“N-no,” Yunho stuttered, “Just… a lot at once.”

“Do you need me to stop?”

Yunho shook his head vehemently. “No,” He let out a low whine, “Keep going. Please.”

He looked so fucking pretty, crying at how good you felt around him. You had to hold yourself back from fucking him into oblivion, the need to make him cry harder smacking you hard.

“You’re doing so good, Yunnie,” You encouraged him instead. You rocked your hips against him, lovingly pushing his hair out of his way.

“Please,” Yunho’s voice wavered between low when he spoke and high when he let out his whines. His tail thumped softly against the bed. “Feels so good. So good. Please.”

His sentences did make any rhyme or reason but at least he was sending out the message that he was enjoying himself.

“I--” Yunho licked his lips, “I need--it’s hot--so hot!”

You moved your hands to scratch behind his ears, knowing it would give him more things to feel good with, but that only made him cry harder. Fuck, he was so pretty like this, with both his voice and his lower lip trembling. “What’s hot, Pup, are you sure you don’t want me to stop?”

“No!” Yunho shouted and then lowered his tone. “Don’t stop, I just--it’s a lot but it’s good but also I feel--” His whines got caught in the back of his throat again, lost to the pleasure of his cock sheathed between your legs.

“Let’s go faster,” You suggested. You grabbed the leash that was attached to his collar and wrapped it around your hand, winding it tighter and tighter, leaving barely any room between you and Yunho.

Yunho’s eyes became shaky, his eyes still blurry with lust but suddenly alarmed. “Faster?”

You captured Yunho’s lips and fed on his whimpers and tasted his tears as you bounced on his cock. His noises were like music to your ears, as they became more high pitched and grew into a crescendo.

When you released him in the kiss, Yunho started to babble again. “So good, you feel so good, this is--I love it, I love being inside of you, please, I wanna, can I--” He swallowed again and again, making his collar bob with his Adam’s apple.

“You wanna come, pup? You want to paint my insides with your hot cum, hmm? You wanna fill me up, sweet Yunho?” You prompted him.

Yunho nodded, almost choking himself with how tight you were holding his leash.

He almost manically agreed. “Yes. Mhmm. Yes, please, I wanna cum. Can I cum? Please? Oh please please please!”

The tears were a never ending stream down his face and you promised yourself internally that you would get Yunho a warm cloth and wipe away all his sweat and tears for being so good for you during his first time.

“Go on, Pup, you earned it. Be a good boy and cum for me.”

The quiet thumps of his tail became faster and harder smacks against the bed as his climax built and hit him with full force. His desperate whines were only underlined by the way his fingers dug into your hips, not looking to control but simply to release how he was feeling during his first climax inside someone. His ears laid back on his head as he came down from his high, whimpers slowly panning out into small, satisfied noises.

You pushed the temptation of over stimming him away; that could be for another time. Instead, you cleaned him up and Yunho sent you a watery smile in thanks. Until you washed his face and he realized he had cried the entire time.

Yunho cast an embarrassed arm over his face and started to whine again. “I can’t believe I cried!” He lamented.

“It’s okay, pup!” You kissed his nose and he grew adorably cross-eyed when you did so. “I liked it.”

Yunho sent you a look of disbelief. “What?”

You shrugged. “I liked it.”

“How?!” He demanded.

You crawled along the bed until you could straddle Yunho’s head, a knee on each side of his broad shoulders. “Doesn’t matter,” You dismissed him, “Now let’s put your lessons to good work.”

Yunho watched with big eyes as you spread your pussy lips for him. “Lick me good, Yuyu, like I know you can, hmmm? You do so well for a pup. Then we can talk about how cute you were for me, crying while I bounced on your big dick,” You teased him with a smile.

Yunho frowned, clear shots fired at his ego. “But--”

You found his leash and tugged it, a warning in of itself. “Are you a good boy?” You lifted an eyebrow at him.

“I’m a good boy,” Yunho replied, deflated instantly. He did perk up looking directly at your pretty pussy on display for him, however. He loved giving you pleasure. But he definitely loved being called a good boy more.

🥀Day Four: Public Sex 🥀Mini Masterlist 🥀Day Six: Auralism/ Sensory Deprivation

#jongfryefff24 #kvanity #kwritersworldnet #pirateeznet #cultofdionysusnet #ateez smut #atz smut #topaz's work #ღatz #jeong yunho smut #yunho smut #jeong yunho x reader

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headkiss · 1 year

Text

single thread (pt. 2)

part 1, part 2, part 3

pairing: spider-man!steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: after the kiss, that string between you and steve seems to get thinner, shorter. you find out some things about him, too.

word count: 7.6k

warnings: spiderman!steve au, a little angst, fluff, injuries (most likely some inaccurate descriptions of them), idiots!!!!

a/n: part two is hereeee!!! thank u guys for all the love on the first one, i hope u guys continue to enjoy this one :,)

/ᐠ(๏‸๏)ᐟ\

If it’s even possible, Steve thinks about you more after the kiss.

Kisses don’t usually feel like that. At least, he doesn’t think they do because he can’t remember what any other kiss felt like. You were enough to erase any that happened before you came along.

It was the best kiss he’s ever had and he never should’ve done it. Being friends with you was one thing, but letting his feelings get involved… there’s no turning back from that.

He’s sure that if he said any of this to Robin she'd call him a dingus and tell him to ask you out, but he can’t do it. He can’t.

You wouldn’t know what you’d be getting yourself into. That is, if you’d even want him at all. The injuries he comes home with—more so than what you’ve patched up yourself—the things he’s had to do, all of it.

You’re too soft, too good, for him to weigh you down with it.

He likes you so much, he knows he does. He likes you so much that he doesn’t want to do anything that could end up with you getting hurt or being unhappy. If that means only being your friend, he’ll do it.

He meant it when he said he never hated you, that much is obvious. And he meant it when he kissed you, the way he felt. He felt brave then, he makes himself brave everytime he puts on his suit, but he’s afraid of this. Of being with you fully, letting you know the truth.

It's been days, maybe a week, since he kissed you and neither of you have brought it up. Steve’s been trying to figure out what to say, how to tell you he’s not sorry for kissing you but he can’t do it again.

Today, he’s decided he’s gonna try. He taps his knuckles against your door, all too familiar of an action by now.

“Just a second!” You call. Even just hearing your voice, Steve knows it’ll be hard to have this conversation and sound like he means it.

You open the door, hair pulled away from your face, “hi, Steve.”

“Hey.”

You’re opening the door wider and stepping aside to let him in before he even asks.

Steve’s eyes are as soft as ever, his smile shy, almost nervous. Looking at him, you still can't believe he kissed you, that he opened up with just a few words.

Never hated you.

“Everything okay?” You ask him. It’s early in the afternoon, and if Steve’s knocking on your door, it’s usually late. You wonder why it’s different this time.

“Yeah. Yep. I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Okay,” nerves bubble in your stomach.

“I kissed you,” the words come out in a rush, like he had to force them out, to bring it up.

“You did.”

“I’m sorry that I haven’t said anything about it. I just, um, needed to think about what to say.”

He sounds more serious than he has with you in a while. Since you started bringing him meals and he started to let you in. You twist your hands in front of you.

“I never said anything, either.”

He shakes his head. “I’m really glad to know you, okay? I just think, maybe, being friends works for us, right? And I don’t want to mess that up, so…”

“So we don’t kiss again.” You hope your voice doesn’t show your disappointment.

You like Steve an embarrassing amount, and when he kissed you, your heart expanded in your chest. A balloon filling up with air until, inevitably, it’d pop. Now, he’s letting you down easy and he’s being so gentle about it that it makes you wanna cry even more.

Damn him for being such a good guy.

“Is that okay?”

“Steve, we’re friends. Don’t worry about it. We’re good, promise.”

You mean it. It’s okay, he can’t help the way he feels and even if it’s not what you’d been hoping for, it’s not his fault you got your hopes up. You’d rather be his friend than be nothing at all.

You can squish your crush down, tuck it away and pretend like it doesn’t exist. You can do it because you were doing it before. It’s fine. It has to be.

Steve feels relief wash over him, though it mingles with some sort of worry that even in doing what he thinks is better, he’s still managing to hurt you. Either way, he’s said the words and his decision’s been made.

He can tell you’re biting at the inside of your cheek, a habit of yours he’s noticed. He knows you do it when you’re nervous or upset and his jaw tenses. He steps over to you and hugs you.

Steve rarely hugs you. There was that time when you cooked for him, and that was it. The rarity of the action tells you he means it, it matters. He’s so gentle when he does this time, his arms folding around your shoulders and his chin perching itself on top of your head.

You fall into his hold easily. You think you always will. Your arms go around his waist, cheek pressed against his shirt’s collar. You don’t think you’ve ever hugged a friend like this before.

So softly, quietly. Both of you breathing each other in and hoping the other doesn’t notice, wondering who’s gonna break away first.

Steve tilts his chin to press a kiss against your hair, his lips still against you when he mumbles, “thank you for understanding, honey.”

The pet name reassures you. Nothing has to be different, and you can be okay with that.

“Thanks for being honest. And I’m really glad to know you, too, by the way.”

Reluctantly, you pull back first, looking down at your feet as you do, too scared that your feelings are written all over your face.

“I’ll see you, yeah?” He still sounds nervous, cautious.

“We do live across the hall from each other, so…”

He huffs, it’s a barely-there laugh, but you’ll take it.

“Bye, honey.”

“Bye, Steve.”

When he leaves and shuts the door behind him, you fall onto your couch, head in your hands and mumbling about how stupid you are, how hopeless.

Steve’s senses can pick up the sound of your voice, the sound of your footsteps, he can pick out some words. Like ‘dummy’ and ‘idiot.’

He mouths the words ‘I’m sorry’ at your door.

He thinks, If whatever he encounters while patrolling tonight doesn’t, Robin’s gonna fucking kill him.

Things were awkward for a bit after that. Not enough to make you want to avoid him, though. He’s not someone you can let go of like that. He’s under your skin and he has no idea.

You’re standing outside his door with the dinner you’ve made him once again. You thought that maybe this would help make things feel normal again. Routine and friendly.

He opens the door quickly after you knock, shaking his head with a smile at the dish in your hands. “I told you, you don’t have to cook for me.”

“I told you I like doing it,” you hand him his food, and despite his protesting, he takes it easily.

Steve was relieved to hear you knocking at his door, relieved to see you with those same strands of hair falling around your face, the same shy smile you wear every time you deliver food.

“Do you wanna stay?” He asks.

“I have to go close at work.”

Steve nods. He knows where he’ll be patrolling tonight, at least.

“Okay. Thanks again.”

“It’s no big deal.”

Maybe not to you, but it is to him. Steve doesn’t want you wasting money or energy on him, but he can’t lie and say that it doesn’t feel nice to have someone care about him the way you do. To have someone actually want to take care of him, even in small ways.

He has Robin, of course he does, but it isn’t the same. He’s not sure his feelings for any person have ever been like his feelings for you.

He wants to do something for you for once, and when you go to turn around and leave, he stops you, “hey.”

“Yeah?”

“Would you let me cook for you sometime? Let me do it for you for once?”

You feel warm, your heart growing in your chest. “I’d like that.”

“Tomorrow work for you?”

“Tomorrow’s great.”

“Okay,” Steve has no idea what he’ll make, and he’ll definitely have to go grocery shopping, probably—reluctantly—call Robin for advice. That doesn’t stop him from feeling a buzz in his chest ‘cause he’ll get to see you. For longer than a couple of minutes this time.

This time, when you turn around, Steve lets you.

Your shift that night is slow and uneventful. Thankfully, so is your walk home. Even after weeks, you’re checking over your shoulder every so often, glancing up at the buildings in search of a superhero you’ve met once. One who probably meets people like you every day, who probably doesn’t even remember you.

Tomorrow comes quickly, and suddenly, you’re worrying about what to wear. Then, after making a mess of your closet, you’re standing in the hallway knocking on Steve’s door all over again.

For once, he didn’t hear you coming, too focused on making sure everything looked right, that he didn’t seem as nervous as he is. When you knock, he hides the cookbook he’d bought that morning in a cupboard before letting you in.

There’s a strand of hair falling over his forehead. That’s what you notice when you first see him. You stop yourself from reaching up and pushing it back.

“Hey, come in,” he moves aside and shuts the door behind you when you walk in.

“Smells good.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not!” You aren’t lying, but you would if you had to. If his cooking was awful, you’d probably have two servings to make him feel good about it.

He’s set up plates at the stools by his island in his kitchen. When he notices you looking there he speaks up, “sorry. I don’t have an actual table.”

You shake your head, “don’t be. Neither do I. You know, ‘cause we live in the same apartments.”

“Right, yeah.”

He gestures for you to sit down, and you do. He brings the food over, putting some on both of your plates before sitting down beside you. His knee brushes yours.

He waits for you to take a bite first, searching your face for a reaction.

“Steve, this is really good.”

He makes a mental reminder to thank Robin for the cookbook recommendation later. Right now, he focuses on the brush of his leg against yours, on the way you laugh softly at his jokes, the way your cardigan falls off your shoulder.

Steve’s eyes are on you so much that you swear you can feel it. You don’t even think he realizes that he’s staring, that he’s leaving a blazing trail wherever his eyes go.

When you look at him, you find his gaze easily, eyes meeting, saying things you couldn’t say out loud. You can't help but feel like this is more than just two friends hanging out. If it was, you probably would’ve gotten take out, and you probably wouldn’t be fighting hard to keep your eyes off of his lips. Especially when he talks.

Not a date, you remind yourself. Just friends.

Steve’s an idiot for thinking he can keep himself at a certain distance from you. He’s an idiot for ignoring his feelings and thinking that because he said you should be friends, they’d go away. It’s clear that they won’t.

He forces his eyes away from you and back down to his food, filling the tension with the first question that comes to mind.

“So, where do you work?” He already knows the answer. He’s jumped across buildings to make sure you get there safe and done the same for your walks home.

“Oh, just this small bookstore. It’s pretty quiet, but I like it there.”

“You like to read, then?” He knows this answer too. There’s a very full bookshelf in your living room.

You nod, finishing your bite of food before replying, “love it. Sometimes, when we have extra stock that isn’t selling, my boss lets me take books home for free.”

He can hear the honesty in your voice, the excitement you get when talking about something that makes you happy. He likes the sound more than he should.

Steve’s about to ask you something else when it happens; the hairs on his neck and arms standing, the goosebumps trailing across his skin, the ringing in his ears. Something’s wrong.

You can see the shift in him. His shoulders tensing, his eyebrows scrunching. You have to say his name three times before he hears you.

“Steve?”

His head snaps over to you, “hm?”

“Is everything okay? I lost you just then.”

“It’s fine,” he drops his fork onto his plate, his hands balled into fists. “I just forgot that I have to do something.”

“What?”

“I have to go. I’m so sorry, you can stay, finish your food. But I really have to go, okay?”

The last thing he wants to do is leave you, but he has to.

“Steve, are you sure everything’s okay?” You put a hand on his shoulder but he flinches away.

“It’s alright. I gotta go,” he stands and snatches his backpack on his way out the door, “I’m sorry, honey.”

And he’s gone.

You don’t finish your food. You’re stuck staring at the door after Steve leaves. It’s obvious that there's something he isn’t telling you, and you wish it didn’t bug you so much.

By the time you’re able to snap out of it, the food’s grown cold. No, you don’t eat it, but you try to occupy yourself by cleaning up the best you can without snooping through his stuff. You take as long as you can, hoping that maybe he'll come back at some point.

He doesn't.

The short walk back to your place is almost robotic, your mind in a haze, legs moving on auto-pilot.

You’ve always known that Steve hasn’t told you very much about his life. It's been clear in the way he distanced himself from you for so long, in how he likes to ask more questions, let you talk more. Still, you worry that it’s bigger than you ever thought.

You worry that out of all the seemingly impossible things you’ve wondered about what could be happening to him when seeing him injured, one of them is true.

It's worse because you like him so much. You care more than you ever should for someone that you don’t know all that well. You think you knew him best when he kissed you, when he wasn’t talking with his voice at all.

It was unguarded, like something had snapped, frayed enough to let his feelings seep through. You’d like to know him like that again. Just friends.

You sigh and head to your room to change out of the outfit you’d spent so much time choosing. Then, you do your skincare. Your apartment is completely silent, but your head is a roaring mess of noise. You finish up in minutes, though you feel like it's been longer.

It’s too early for you to go to bed, and you know you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you tried, so you head to your living room and sit on the couch, your knees tucked up to your chest.

You grab the remote and switch on the news, needing something to fill up the silence, to drown out your thoughts.

The headline on the bottom of the screen is what you notice first. The mention of Spider-man.

You rest your chin on your knees and stare at the screen, the rushed footage of that red and blue suit swinging across buildings. The screaming in your head of SteveSteveSteve fades to whispers.

You remember the sound of those webs that hold him up, the air that rushed through your hair and against your skin when he swung you home. You remember the feeling of his suit under your hands and the way the white eyes of his mask were expressive despite being fake.

It feels wrong to think about Spider-man as often as you do while wanting to be around Steve so much. It’s just curiosity, you tell yourself. He saved me and I can’t forget about it.

You’ve been subconsciously searching for him all over the place. Your walks home, the front pages of papers at newsstands. You look for his face—mask, really—and you don’t always realize what you're doing.

Still, when the segment about the hero ends, Steve floods back into your mind. Just like he always does.

He’s growing all over you, vines of ivy stringing across your being just a bit more every time you see him. You’ve never really felt that way, never had someone that you wanted to let so close. It hasn’t been long, but he knows you better than most people do.

You huff and get up to grab one of your books. You hope that the words on pages you use to escape so often will work the same way this time.

It’s late when Steve gets home, completely dark, completely quiet.

He climbs in through his window and showers like always when he finishes a patrol. He hates how he had been hoping to see you when he walked into his kitchen.

Instead, he sees that you cleaned up a lot of the dishes, that you were kind enough to do that even when he left the way he did. It sends a ping of something he has to ignore to his heart, a squeeze, an ache.

He doesn’t know how he’ll explain himself to you, because he doesn’t want to lie to you, but he can’t tell you the truth, either.

It’s completely fucked. He’s fucked.

Steve never really explained himself, and you sort of just accepted that. He’s not obligated to share every bit of his life with you, as much as you want him to. You want to be the person he’s completely himself with.

It’s selfish, and it’s absolutely not going to happen.

Things go back to normal. Well, as normal as they have been since the kiss. Rather than making him dinner, you and Steve take turns and have a meal together once a week. He’s finally convinced you to stop buying extra food just for him.

He’s even made a habit of visiting you at work when things aren’t too busy, and with every passing day, any lingering upset or concerns you had about his hasty exit that day seem to melt away.

He’s human, he has secrets, and you can only hope that they aren’t anything that’s hurting him.

The way that you seem to let things go unanswered with him make your feelings clear. You more than like him, you want to plant yourself on him the way he has on you, to be something to him.

Steve’s been trying again and again to keep himself away from you in a sense. To be platonic and be okay with that, but he’s smart enough to know that the hold you have over him is so much more.

He has no idea how you don’t see it all over him, but he figures it might be for the best. If he can’t hide it, at least you can be blind to it.

Today’s another quiet day at the bookstore. Business seems to be slowing more and more in the independent shop, and though you love the quiet, you’d hate to lose the place. The smell of the books and their pages, the section of used books with enough character to fill the space.

The first eventful part of your day so far has been the phone ringing, and you pick it up quickly.

“Hello?”

“Hey, honey,” it’s Steve, just like you’d hoped. “You busy?”

“Not at all.”

“Hungry?”

Somehow, his voice sounds even better over the phone. The crackle of it in the speakers, the way that it’s all you have to focus on since you can’t see him at the moment. It has a bigger presence.

“I could eat,” you say.

“That’s great, ‘cause I already ordered the food.”

“Steeeve.”

He can almost hear the smile in your voice, and if he shuts his eyes tight enough, he can see it, too. The shyness behind it, the way your shoulder will lift to your cheek. It’s cute.

“You don’t mind if I stop by, do you?” He asks, like it’s even a question.

“You’d show up no matter what I said.”

“But…”

“You know I don’t mind. You’ll be my first customer of the day!”

“What an honor,” there’s silence for a moment, and you can hear each other breathing on the other line. “I’ll see you in a few, ‘kay?”

“Okay.”

The phone’s hung up with a click.

In the time it takes Steve to walk (swing, but you don’t know that) over, you walk around and tidy up anything that’s out of place. You do this every time he calls to ask if it’s alright that he visits, trying to make the minutes go by faster.

You’re straightening books on the front display table when the bell above the door jingles, and soon after, a wide hand covering your eyes.

“Guess who.”

“Hmmm, let me think. Spider-man?”

You’re clearly joking, but Steve’s stunned. If you listen close enough, you can hear his sharp intake of breath at your reply. She doesn’t know, he convinces himself. She doesn’t know, shake it off.

“Ha ha. Very funny.”

Steve takes his hand away from your face and sets the paper takeout bag on the front counter next to the register, the bag crinkling as he opens it.

“Mmm,” you hum, looking at the spread of what he’s brought you. “You’re the best.”

He likes being called the best by you, and he likes the feeling he gets when he hears it. Like he’s someone important, someone good.

“Yeah, well. I’ve gotta make up for all of the meals you’ve made me.”

He always says that, and you always tell him the same things. “You don’t owe me anything, Steve.”

He absolutely does. He owes you so much. For the food you’ve made him, for patching him up and never pushing the subject, for being the person you are and bringing out the person he hasn’t been in a long, long time.

He won’t tell you that, though, so he just shakes his head. “Dig in.”

You do, and so does he, the white, cardboard containers spread across the counter. You talk between bites of food, the easy kind of conversation that isn’t very common, especially for someone like you.

You don’t have people, really. Steve is the someone you do have.

He asks you about the book you have sitting on the counter, and he listens to everything you say like he really cares. You bond over the poor water pressure in your showers, and you laugh at Steve’s impression of your landlord. It’s your favorite kind of lunch break.

Your shifts usually feel slow, but when Steve shows up, time flies by. Before you know it, you’re stacking the empty boxes and tossing them in the garbage.

“Thanks for the food, Steve.”

“‘Course.” He’s about to say something else when it happens again.

The tingling over his skin, the goosebumps spreading all over, his hairs standing up. He takes a deep breath and shuts his eyes, forgetting that you’re there to see him do it, focusing on his senses and where he has to go.

“Steve?”

Shit. He has to leave again. At least he made it through the meal this time. That’s something.

“Yeah?”

“Are you alright?”

“Perfect, yeah. Just, um, a headache.”

You don’t look convinced, but like you so often do, you drop it. Steve doesn’t know why you let him get away with so much, and he feels awful for it. He’ll tell you one day, maybe, when it’s safe. Just not today.

“I have some water, here,” you go to grab it but he stops you.

“That’s okay, honey. I think I’ll just head home.”

“Okay.”

“Have a good rest of your shift, okay?”

“Yeah. Bye.”

He grabs his backpack and heads out the door. You wait for him to be a few steps away and then you peek out the door, eyes following his figure on the sidewalk.

You see him break into a run before turning into an alleyway. You’re confused all over again.

Steve really wasn’t expecting it to be so bad this time, especially considering the fact that the sun’s still up.

He’d changed into his suit in that alley you saw him run into, hiding behind a dumpster and swinging off as quick as he could when he was done. He should’ve guessed it’d be serious by how strong his senses came on. Should’ve seen it coming.

He was a little busy thinking about you.

But then he saw what was going on and forced himself to focus. There was a group, maybe five, six people, who'd made some sort of enhanced weapons using electricity, and his superpowers, as great as they are, don’t protect him from the shocks those things could cause.

Not to mention how outnumbered he was. He knew this one could take a while. First, he focused on getting anyone in danger out of there, clearing the area until it was just him, the people with the weapons, and news reporters stupid enough to stay on scene.

He had to be smart for this one, so he used heights to his advantage, staying above them all while tracking them quickly. Steve also made sure they didn’t start heading in the direction of the bookstore, your bookstore.

The first two were easy to get, the ones that fell behind their group. Steve was able to web them up without getting too close.

It gets tougher after that. The others seem smarter, strategic, and he had to be better than them to make it stop. He takes a second to hide from them, closing his eyes and really letting his senses do the work.

When he opens his eyes again, things move in a blur.

He’s flipping and ducking, narrowly avoiding their shots, running harder than he has in a while. It’s the type of day that’ll leave him sore in the morning, he knows that for sure. Before he really processes it, there’s only two guys left to catch.

There’s a wake of broken and burning things behind them, but Steve can’t stop to fix anything until this is taken care of, so he doesn’t even look back.

Just as he tries to web one of them, they shoot at him, and the electric current collides with his web, sending a shock up his arm. A zap so quick, he couldn’t see it coming. He’s distracted from it, his hand shaky and it makes things harder.

After some swinging and punching, he manages to get one guy. In the midst of it, he’s lost the other one. At least, until he feels a spark of pain in his side. The electricity was focused enough to leave a welt on his skin, one he can already feel developing.

He’s too late to avoid the second hit when he spots the guy, ducked behind a dumpster, peeking out like a sniper. The same side is hit, and he knows another mark will prove that.

Steve has to rush around the corner to get out of sight and recover for a moment, a hand—shaking and sweaty in his glove—coming to hover over the burn marks on his suit.

“Fuck,” he breathes. The pain is sharp and hot, the kind that doesn’t go away until it’s taken care of. “Okay. Get the guy, and go. It’s fine.”

He grunts when he stands straight again, another noise escaping him when he shoots a web and swings around the corner back to the alley. The last guy is still by the dumpster, and Steve lets go of his web and lands close enough to knock him off balance.

The guy must panic, because he pulls the trigger on Steve and manages to nick his side a third time. From this close, the current is only amplified. Steve’s knocked to the side, but he manages to stay upright.

Get him, and go home. Do it. He has to push himself, and it has to be enough to finish the job. When he realizes that he’s closer to the bookstore than he was before, he clenches his fists and punches the man hard enough that he falls to the ground.

Steve webs his there, and then he slumps against the wall of the alleyway, his side burning, his breathing short. He has to get home.

He breathes out a deep breath and stands, shooting his first web and gritting his teeth as he goes up with it. He swings by news anchors and finds it in himself to mumble, “fucking idiots,” at them.

By the time he gets inside his apartment via the window, it’s dark outside, and he doesn’t know how long he spent wrangling that group. He’s a mess of panting and sweating, his suit scorched and his skin an ugly color.

He takes a cool shower and throws on a thin shirt and the first pair of sweatpants he finds. He has to sit on his bed for a solid ten minutes to make sure he doesn’t pass out the next time he stands.

But when he does get up, he heads to his door like the absolute idiot he is. He heads into the hall to find you.

You stand up quick enough to get a head rush when he knocks on your door. You know it’s him, that’s not the question going through your head. No, you’re wondering if he’s okay.

Your heart’s already racing when you open the door. It gets quicker when you see him.

“Steve?” Your eyes flicker all over his face, searching for blood or bruising. Anything at all. “You okay?”

Steve’s eyes are bloodshot, his forehead damp with sweat and the droplets of water falling from his hair. Even so, all he tells you is: “I just wanted to make sure you-” his face scrunches, he pants between his words “-you got home okay.”

“I’m good. I’m alright,” you say, though it’s obvious since you��re standing right in front of him. “What about you?”

“I’m fine.” He holds up his arm in a weak thumbs up and winces with the movement. You aren’t fooled in the slightest.

“No, you’re not. Get inside and let me help you.”

“Honey-”

You grab his hand gently, your fingers wrapped around his. You can feel him shaking as you tug him inside and shut the door. “Come on.”

He doesn’t really have it in him to argue with you, and as much as he shouldn’t, he wants to be around you, to hurt less because of your comfort and your soft touch.

Steve lets you lead him into your bathroom once more, watches as you bend down to grab the first-aid kit from the cabinet under your sink. He still has the bandages you gave him, and he’s lucky he won’t need them now since he’s not bleeding. He didn’t bring them with him.

You guide him to stand in front of the counter where the light is best and reach for his face, your hands holding his cheeks and tilting him down to you. His hands grasp your wrists, like an instinct.

There’s guilt in his eyes that you try to ignore. A frown tugs between your brows, at the corners of your lips.

“You look a little pale. What happened?”

“I can’t- I can’t tell you that right now.”

You push his hair away from his forehead before pulling your hands away. You bite the inside of your cheek and nod. You’re more worried about him right now; you can worry about whatever happened later.

Steve goes to lean against the counter. He grunts when his back hits it, his hand covering his side in reflex. You catch it.

“Take your shirt off.”

“Wha-”

“You’re hurt, Steve. I can tell. Let me see it.”

“I’m fine.”

“Stop saying that and let me see. Please.”

He blows out a slow breath and reaches for the hem of his shirt, because he knows you won’t let it go until he shows you. Taking his shirt off is uncomfortable, and he makes quiet sounds to prove it. He keeps his eyes cast onto the floor when he tosses his shirt aside.

You look down slowly, your eyes passing down his neck and chest first, then lingering on his stomach for a second too long. You’d never expect him to be built the way he is, lines of muscle under his skin.

You can’t focus on that for long, not when you notice the three welts on his side. There’s already bruising, shades of purple and green spreading, outlined in redness.

You swear you can feel something crack in your chest, the sadness that seeps into your eyes in the form of tears along your waterline. “Oh my god.”

He hates the way your voice sounds, the way your expression shows how worried you are for him. He hates that someone like you is so concerned about him.

“It looks worse than it is.”

“Steve.”

You kneel on the tiles in front of him to get a closer look. Your hands hover over the marks, too afraid to touch him, too afraid to hurt him even more.

Steve’s shaky hands grab yours, squeezing your fingers like he’s reminding you he’s okay, he’s alive enough to do that. You don’t look at his face, but he can’t look away from yours.

“What can I do to help?” You ask.

“You’re doing more than enough,” he says quietly, his voice a low hum in the air. “They’ll go away.”

Who could possibly be hurting him? This boy with soft eyes and a kindness even the highest of walls couldn’t keep hidden.

“I’m so sorry, Steve.”

You lean forward and peck the skin of his stomach, just beside the bruises. You’re not thinking about the consequences when you do it, you’re only thinking about how much pain he must keep hidden from everyone. About how much you’d do to make it go away.

Steve doesn’t know whether to cry or kiss you stupid for it. He settles on tugging you up to stand with his grip on your hands and leaning his forehead against yours. He’s not thinking about the consequences, either.

“Don’t you dare be sorry. Not you.”

“You’re hurting.”

“And you have nothing to do with that. If anything, you do the opposite.”

You squeeze your eyes shut to stop any tears from escaping.

“Will you stay for a bit?”

No, there’s absolutely no thinking about the consequences when you’re this close, when your hands are in his. There’s no thinking when Steve agrees.

“Yeah, honey. I’ll stay.”

You nod and breathe in, catching the scent of his body wash, and pull away. You have to force yourself to let go of him and move out of his way so he can put his shirt back on.

Steve has to stop himself from reaching for you when you step away. Instead, he tries not to wince again when he picks up his shirt and pulls it on.

He follows you out into the living room, sits beside you on the couch and leaves distance between you. He observes you as you pick out a movie to put on, thanks you when you toss him a blanket.

He feels warm all over at the way you seem to take care of him without thinking. It spreads from his chest and expands and expands and expands until it’s everywhere from his head to his toes.

Somehow, you end up with Steve’s head in your lap.

The inches separating you and him on the couch grew shorter and shorter as you spoke until your thighs touched. You both acted like you didn’t notice.

Then, the further you got into the movie, the quieter you both became. So quiet that you hadn’t noticed how tired Steve was until you felt his head drop against your shoulder. You were barely able to smile at the action before he jerked himself upright.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’re tired.”

“You must be, too.”

You shake your head, “not really. You should lay down.”

“I can just go,” he said, like that’s what you’d prefer.

“I’ve got a comfy lap, promise.”

Steve blames his tiredness and the haze of it all for agreeing and laying on his side, his cheek against the top of your thigh.

He’d never say it out loud, but he does feel really comfortable in the moment. He almost forgets about the bruising on his side. It takes a lot for him not to wrap his arms around you then.

“You can sleep if you want to,” you say, noticing the way his eyes blink heavily.

“Then you’ll be stuck here.”

That wouldn’t be so bad, you think. “I’ll go to bed when I want to. I’ll be sneaky, you won’t even notice.”

“As long as you wake me up if you have to.”

“Sure I will.”

Steve knows you absolutely won’t—he knows you’d rather fall asleep where you’re sitting and risk a sore neck than disturb him, because that’s who you are—but he doesn’t call you on it. Instead, he shuts his eyes and lets the comfort of your apartment, of you, put him to sleep.

You look down at him after a bit, and you notice his even breaths, the pout on his mouth as he sleeps. Softly, you run your fingers through his hair, pulling apart the tangles gently.

Without thinking, you keep doing it until the movie ends. You still aren’t tired, and you really don’t want to wake him up, so you grab your remote and switch it to the news.

They’re talking about Spider-man, you realize. They talk about him a lot.

“Today, a group of criminals with illegally enhanced weapons were taken down by none other than our city’s masked hero, Spider-man.”

The anchor talks in that classic news lady voice, one that would usually have you turning down the volume, but where Spider-man’s involved, you’re inclined to listen.

“We have some witness clips here, where you can see him in action.”

The screen switches to show a video that was taken on a bystander’s phone, the footage shaky, the witness dumb enough to stand there and film rather than run.

You can see Spider-man fighting someone, can see the quick flashes of webbing as well as the opponent’s weapon shooting. You can see how quick he is, the way his reflexes work. You think about what it was like to see it with your own eyes.

Then, it cuts to a new video, where he seems to be swinging away from the scene, but towards the camera. The anchor says something that makes your ears ring.

“It looks like there are some burn marks on his suit where Spider-man was hit. Three on his side, I’m being told.”

Three marks. On his side.

It has to be a coincidence that Steve showed up to your door after the whole Spider-man thing had happened with the exact same injuries, right?

Then, what if it isn’t? What if this is why he’s been getting hurt all this time?

You think about every interaction with Steve you’ve had. The day you met, when he carried your boxes without breaking a sweat. The way he tried so hard to isolate himself from you, the lack of details he shares about his life. The injuries he’s come to you with, the scars you’ve noticed but haven’t mentioned.

And most recently, the way he’s left in a hurry after zoning out for a minute.

You think your heartbeat might be loud enough to wake Steve up.

Steve.

You look down at his face, at the delicate skin under his eyes, at the way his eyelashes rest there in his sleep. You look down at this boy, asleep in your lap, and realize that he’s carrying all that weight by himself.

If you’re right about this, about him being Spider-man, you think he deserves even more than what you give him. More than the dinners and the company, more than the friendship. He deserves to be hugged, to be told how strong he is.

Fuck, you need to thank him, if you’re right. Because he’s the one who saved you, the one who brought you home and made sure you got inside, the one who reminded you to take care of your wrist.

Holy shit. That realization makes your head spin.

“Who are you, Steve?” You whisper. He can’t hear you, he’s fast asleep, but you ask anyway.

When you finally manage to lift his head from your lap and get up, shutting off the TV as you do, you head to your bedroom. You lay on your back on top of your sheets and stare at the ceiling.

You don’t sleep very much that night.

Cooking has become something to do to keep you busy, to take your mind off things. So, when you’re sure you’re not getting any more sleep, it feels natural to head to the kitchen and start making breakfast.

You move about your small kitchen as quietly as you can, the presence of the boy asleep on your couch something hard to ignore. The boy you’re pretty sure is Spider-man, the boy you more than like.

Despite Steve’s enhanced hearing, he doesn’t wake up due to any noise. No, for the first time in a long time, he blinks his eyes open slowly and lets the sunlight seeping through the window get him up. He stretches before standing up from your couch.

There’s a stiff ache in his side, which isn’t surprising, but it still has him cursing under his breath at the reminder of yesterday.

His voice makes you peek over your shoulder at him. “Good morning.”

Steve rubs his eyes and looks over at you standing by the stove. He has to rub them again to make sure he isn’t dreaming.

He walks over and leans against the counter next to where you cook. “Hi. Thanks for letting me stay.”

You give him a quick smile, a sunbeam.

You’ve decided to try and act normal with him, act like you don’t know this huge piece of information. He deserves the space to tell you in his own time. That is, if he’ll ever tell you at all.

“Yeah. You feel okay?”

“Bit sore. It’ll go away.”

“I doubt my cheap couch helped with that.”

“It helped.”

He sounds so sure about that, like it was the best sleep he could’ve gotten.

“Are you hungry?” You ask. You’ve already cooked enough for him, too.

“I don’t want to overstay or anything.”

“Steve, I’m offering. I’d like it if you stayed for breakfast.”

His stomach growls before he’s able to reply. You both laugh softly, you amused, him embarrassed. “Guess that’s a yes.”

Steve acts the same as he usually does as you eat, keeping conversations steered towards you, pretending like there aren’t bruises under his shirt as you speak. He seems to forget the powers that he has, the persona that’s a kept secret.

He wants to thank you over and over, to apologize to you over and over, to tell you all of the things he swore he couldn’t feel for you. He wants to tell you so much, but he’s scared—not nearly as brave as he is when he has his mask on—and he can’t get anything out.

Steve just wishes he could put into words exactly what you do for him, how unfair he knows it is to ask of you, how much it means that you help him regardless.

Instead of doing any of that, he eats the food you cook and shares more smiles with you than he does with anyone.

You watch as he takes his empty plate and rinses it off for you, the way his t-shirt is a bit tighter across his upper back, the set of his shoulders. Those shoulders that carry so much all by himself.

You’re frowning before you can help it. Not because he hasn’t told you, you can understand that, but because he must be so convinced that he’s better off doing it all alone.

“Thanks again for breakfast. You cook too many meals for me.” He lingers by your door, rocking on his feet like he’s not sure where to go.

“You sure you’re okay?”

Steve’s expression shifts in the smallest way when you ask. He can’t wrap his head around someone caring about him—besides Robin—to ask so often.

“I’m okay.”

Before you can really think about it you walk up to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders. You squeeze him as tight as you can while being mindful not to hurt him. Your face is tucked into the side of his neck, and he can feel your lips on his skin.

His arms seem to move before he’s aware of it, hugging you back around your waist, squeezing you just as tight. He needed this, he thinks, and somehow, you knew he did.

“I really care about you, Steve.”

He rests his chin on your head, breathing in the smell of your shampoo, shutting his eyes to try and capture how it feels to be held by you, to hold you.

“Me too, honey.”

/ᐠ(๏‸๏)ᐟ\

thank u for reading!! if u enjoyed, please please consider reblogging and letting me know what you think!!! it helps more than you’d think <3

1K notes · View notes

cinnajun · 10 months

Text

ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: zb1 when you're sick

a/n: i love writing stuff like this, mostly because i think how someone takes care of u when ur sick means a lot :)) it’s very endearing to me!

notes: yujin is not included due to his age! just assume y/n has a nasty case of the flu or something lol, i didn't proofread so sorry for any typos!

wc | 2.8k

from worst to best at taking care of you

gyuvin

i don’t think he’d necessarily be bad at it per say

like gyuvin’s definitely the type of guy to treat you a little bit like a baby when you’re sick

he feels really bad, and he doesn’t like seeing you all upset and unhappy :(

so for the first couple of days he’s good at supplying you with medicine and water, and he does his best to make you meals (most of them are bland convenience store soups and noodles put into bowls but it’s okay)

he also spends a lot of time with you, and, by extension, cheers you up a lot

he will amp his funny meter up like 97% because he wants to see you smile and laugh

even though you can barely laugh because you’re sick and your throat hurts

he also will be very loving when you’re sick which is nice because i don’t see him being extremely touchy when you’re going about your daily life

so you get lots of hugs and kisses even though you keep telling him not to because he will get sick

and that’s where everything goes wrong

the thing is. on day 3 he will wake up sick

no matter what, when you get sick, he will be sick within 72 hours

it’s because he’s clingy and annoying and will nap with you, get ready for bed with you, and eat food with you so there’s virtually no protection from your illness

and as much as he would love to keep taking care of you while he’s sick, he feels just as bad so now you’re BOTH rotting away while whatever sickness you have runs its course

you end up having to call hanbin over because neither of you want to do anything but lay there

so like

enjoy the two days of a very loving and doting boyfriend (more so than usual)

and make sure to tell hanbin when you get sick so he can be prepared to clear his schedule lol

under gyuvin’s (technically hanbin’s) care, it takes about a week to fully get better!

ricky

so sorry to the 04s for this slander

again i don’t think he’d be bad at it he’d just be a little clueless

i think when he gets really stressed out about something he shuts down a little bit too so when your fever is pushing 102 he’s kind of like a sim that can’t figure out how to get past a desk (if that makes sense)

you’ll be like “ugh my head hurts” and he’ll be like oh okay … then twenty minutes later he finally returns with advil and a cup of water

or like you’ll be napping and he’ll suddenly remember that you need to take more dayquil (he’s about an hour late)

and at the end of the day he will get done what he needs to get done just like give him a minute

ricky somehow makes a really good chicken noodle soup (it’s just canned soup) and you always ask him about it and how he makes it!! he tells you it’s a secret (he just slightly modifies canned soup)

i think he’s also pretty good at making sure he doesn’t get sick from taking care of you, too

like as much as he loves you and not being able to hold your hand makes him want to die, he doesn’t want to be like gyuvin and force hanbin to take care of both of you lol

so he’ll wear a mask and wash his hands pretty regularly, but he makes sure to reassure you that he’s taking the necessary precautions so that he can successfully nurse you back to health, and that he still loves you even if he can’t get too close right now :)

i think his main strength in this area is keeping you entertained, though

like he’ll make sure there’s always a movie playing or something, even if you’re asleep

he doesn’t want you to be bored and feel bad

also has an intrinsic belief that not being bored will distract you from the icky feelings

under ricky’s care, it takes a little over a week to get better!

matthew

same with ricky, i think matthew’s not necessarily bad at it, but he kind of shuts down when he finds out

he goes from like doting, loving boyfriend to oh god oh my god oh no oh god

if you give him a bit of time to gather himself he goes from panic mode to question mode

matthew will NOT leave you alone while you’re sick!!! he’s halfway convinced you’re living out your last days!!!! he has to make sure you don’t die!!!!

he also asks you 70 questions an hour

“do you need anything?” “do you want something to eat?” “do you need more water?” “do you want a massage?”

of the 70 questions, maybe about 3 or 4 of them yield the answer “yes” but that’s not 0 so he’s going to keep it up

he’s like baymax or something idk he’s just so stressed out the entire time

he’s like nigh unrecognizable the entire time

you are absolutely aware of the fact that sometimes he leaves the room to call his mom and ask for advice but you pretend that you don’t know for the sake of his dignity

although his constant stream of questions can be somewhat overwhelming at times, you’re very appreciative of his dedication because when you’re sick, you will get anything you need

he will also make any meal you desire even if he’s never made it before, and he really adores the way it makes you smile so then he’s all smiley afterwards <;/3

if he needs to go out to the store to get you something, he will either enlist somebody else to do it or have someone stay with you while he’s gone

so you’ll get a lot of well wishes from jiwoong, hao, and hanbin while you’re not feeling well

when you get better it’s the best day of matthew’s life i’m pretty sure

he remembers what it feels like to not be terribly worried 24/7 so you watch him deflate like a balloon

and then he naps for like four hours

under matthew’s care, it takes 6-ish days to get better!

taerae

taerae’s pretty middle of the road in my opinion

like we learned during boys’ planet, he’s the youngest kid so he received a lot of affection and love when he was growing up

so, when you’re sick, he gives you a LOT of affection

you could be rotting away in bed and taerae will be like “you are the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen” with heart eyes

i think the thing that gives taerae a real leg up though is that his first thought is “oh let’s go see a doctor” and he can drive so you go pretty much immediately

that way, you get flu-specific medicine and get better quicker than you would’ve without

after that, taerae’s sick care is pretty run of the mill

i don’t think he’s too panicked about it because people get sick all the time, and so, unless you’re really, really sick he’s not going to be doting on you 24/7 like matthew would

he’ll still run errands and he won’t cancel plans unless you straight up ask him to (and if you ask he will without thinking about it!!!)

and he makes sure you’re taking your meds, drinking water, and eating three times a day

but life doesn’t stop, you know??

it’s nice because when you’re sick, sometimes all you want is to be left alone for a bit and that’s exactly what taerae does for you :)

also, because he’s continuing on with his life, he won’t get sick from you so you won’t have any of that guilt on your shoulders

one special thing taerae does when you’re sick though is sing you to sleep

sure, when you’re not sick, he’ll do it from time to time but he’s very consistent when you’re not feeling well!! he’ll get the guitar out and sing you a lullaby or two

he will also sing you awake </3 and he wakes you up to eat!!! so it’ll be a cute little made up jingle about it being breakfast time … it’s very heartwarming

under taerae’s care, you get better in 5 days!

jiwoong

i think he’s very similar to taerae in this respect, so he’s also in the middle (but a little bit higher up)

jiwoong is older and more experienced with stuff like this so he’s very businessy about it

when you wake up with a fever, you’ll head to the doctor and get your tamiflu or whatever

from then on it’s just a waiting game i think

the main difference between taerae and jiwoong though is strictly experience

he’s very routine when it comes to taking care of you

you eat breakfast, he gives you dayquil, goes out to get anything you ask for…it continues

jiwoong is also really good at knowing when you want him around and when you want him to leave you alone

but he’s always generally around, and will cancel plans (without telling you) so that he can make sure he’s available if anything goes wrong

he’s good at planning for the worst case scenario without being worried about it, too, so he’ll have a backup plan in place if you (for some reason) start getting worse rather than getting better

jiwoong is great to have around when you’re sick because he’s good at cooking, too

he will bring you the most delicious soup you’ve ever had in your life and will literally juice oranges so that you can have fresh orange juice

he doesn’t tell you but he’s a little manic about what you’re consuming when you’re sick because he doesn’t want you to throw up or get sicker because of what you’re eating

he also gives really good bear hugs when you’re sick

like the best bear hug of your life

when you trudge out of the bedroom in the morning to eat breakfast and open your arms for a hug he will gladly envelope you into the most comfortable thing you’ve felt in weeks

they’re obviously no different from his hugs when you’re not sick but for some reason they’re just so much better than when you’re not feeling well

under jiwoong’s care, you get better in 4-5 days

zhang hao

TOP 3!!

hao is so lovely to be around when everything is normal, so when you’re sick he’s like a saving grace almost

he actually notices you’re sick before you do

he wakes up one morning, looks over at you, and notices that your cheeks are flushed and you’re making a kind of unhappy face

he takes your temperature and is like >:0 oh no

so you literally wake up to him holding a gatorade and a bowl of rice and you’re like ??? what

“you’re sick”

“i am???”

and then a couple of hours the symptoms really kick in and you’re like “how are you a genius…” but he’s just observant lol

while you’re sick, he dials up the zhang hao charm like 7000% and makes sure that you know he loves you more than anything and that he will do/get anything you need until you get better

and he will ensure that you don’t feel guilty that he’s taking time off of his everyday life to dote on you

i think, in general, hao is so good at catching your illness before it’s really able to set in that your symptoms tend to be fairly mild throughout the time that you’re sick (thus, you get better faster)

and he’s good at making sure you’re staying clean too

he knows how awful it is when you get sick and you don’t have anyone to help you out, so you just end up feeling gross and disgusting all the time

so he makes sure you’re doing your skincare (he will literally do it for you if you need him to) and that you’re showering when you need to yk

and he gets “anonymous deliveries” of little treats throughout the time that you’re sick (he asks hanbin to pick some things up and put them at the door lol)

when you get better, hao will take you on a date to celebrate (and he lets you pay so you’ll truly crush any guilt you felt for interrupting his daily life)

under hao’s care, you get better in 4 days!

gunwook

this might be a hot take but i think gunwook would be so nice to have around when you’re sick

i also think, like hao, he picks up on it before it even happens idk

he’ll see that one of your friends got sick after you hung out and he just knows

he will preemptively make you take theraflu, and you think he’s being stupid but then you wake up with a fever

he’s like “i told you”

gunwook would be panicked in a way that you have no clue, so it’s out of sight and out of mind

but in all actuality he’s blowing up the zb1 gc like wtf do i DO!!!

everyone’s first recommendation is to make sure you don’t end up like gyuvin (sick and unhappy) LOL

but half the things he does are recommendations from jiwoong, hao, and hanbin so make sure to thank them at some point!!

because he takes tips from the pros he ends up being a pro you know

and he finds out ricky’s super secret (canned) soup recipe so he’s got that on lock too

essentially gunwook is the product of the rest of the group’s experience … like the answer to one big equation lol

the one thing he doesn’t listen to is everyone telling him to like not be constantly close to you

i’m a believer that gunwook rarely gets sick (his immune system is like on steroids) so he spends the entirety of this period hanging out with you

naps with you, goes to bed at the same time as you, watches whatever you’re watching, etc

obviously he’s washing his hands pretty often but he’s still hanging out with you, which makes you feel very happy and loved :)

afterwards, you’re very thankful and appreciative and gunwook will take all the credit for the techniques other people supplied him with

at some point you’ll probably catch on but you won’t say anything lol

if he’s happy, you’re happy!

under gunwook’s care, you get better in 3-4 days!

hanbin

i feel like this was obvious

this man is literally a mother

you feel like your mom is taking care of you the entire time you’re sick

when you wake up and tell him you aren’t feeling well he does the mom thing (puts his hand on your forehead) and can actually conclude you have a fever by doing that

and then he’ll tell you to go lay down while he makes breakfast lol

it’s seriously like your mom is taking care of you, i cannot overstate this

he’s giving you cold washcloths and handing you cough drops every 2-3 business hours

he asks what your symptoms are and goes “hmm” before disappearing from the room and returning with the exact remedy you need

hanbin quite literally hates the idea that you’re nothing less than happy, so he will do everything in his power to make sure you’re getting better while honoring your wishes at the same time

so if all you want to do is sleep, he’ll let you sleep

or if you want to try and still be productive, he’ll let you help with the dishes or do your own laundry if need be

being sick under hanbin’s care is so nice because you don’t feel like the world has stopped just because you’re sick, you know

the way he takes care of you keeps you feeling strong enough to do something other than lay about all day

and you don’t really get to the point where you feel like death is imminent (i assume this is a universal experience for everyone)

and he’s not too worried about you being sick as he’s worried about you getting better and not having any residual symptoms you know

also makes yummy and delicious food for you so that’s a big plus LOL

you get better so fast that it’s barely a bump in the road

you think god accidentally gave hanbin special powers and you’re glad you get to be the main benefactor of them

under hanbin’s care, you get better in 3 days!

thank you for reading!

#cinna.zb1 #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 fluff #zb1 scenarios #zb1 headcanons #zb1 reactions #jiwoong x reader #zhang hao x reader #sung hanbin x reader #hanbin x reader #seok matthew x reader #taerae x reader #ricky x reader #gyuvin x reader #gunwook x reader

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