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ghostlyforxst · 1 year

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PT.1||PT.2 (COMING SOON)

GENDER: Gender Neutral Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere Tendencies

CHARACTERS: Gyomei Himejima, Sanemi Shinazugawa, Muichiro Tokito, and Obanai Iguro.

GYOMEI HIMEJIMA

Your shoulders sagged, rising and falling with each heavy breath, scowling at the conceited demon.

"Already tired out," the bastard taunted, "I've barely done anything?"

You grunted, your hand pressuring against the gash on your abdomen, stumbling on your feet as you hoisted yourself back up. You looked away from your feet, choking on your breath as you came face to face with the ravening beast.

You quickly positioned yourself in your fighting stance, swinging your nichirin blade sluggishly.

"Such a pathetic excuse of a demon slayer, so weak." The demon laughed, striking you to the ground.

He looked down upon you and chuckled, "now to end your suffering."

You flinched away, your eyes squinching close as you prepared for the worst, but nothing came. You cautiously opened your eyes and peered up. There the demon stood, stunned and mouth agape, before his head fell to the ground.

You cried out in relief and just before your vision went black, you caught a glimpse of the intimidating figure of the stone hashira.

Gyomei lingered by your bedside, worried, praying for your recovery. When he had finally gotten to you, you were so pitiful,,,tiny compared to him. Gyomei felt an urgent need to protect you, even though you were a stranger to him. He doesn't need his sight to tell you were a delightful person, your presence felt comforting. It made him cry knowing that you were hurt, but from now on he promises himself no harm will ever come to you. Once you've woken, he'll be ready to learn more about you.

SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA

You closed the doors behind you, after being informed by Ubuyashiki that you were assigned a mission with wind hashira. You sighed, grumbling, and stepped from the door. Seriously, you did not want to get together with him—not wanting to handle his aggressive and ill-mannered behavior.

You'd barely rounded the corner before you collided into a chest, you glanced up and stiffened. "Speaking of the devil…"

He frowned at you, "I've been looking for you, let's get to going."

You nodded and trailed behind him, quietly.

The mission was far from what you thought it to be, Sanemi was far from what you thought he would be; it was quick, Sanemi riding the demons before you could make a slash on the monstrous being, and he didn't act like a demon himself. He made small talk, asking about you and being attentive. Though those questions and actions held nightmarish intentions, to be knowledgeable about you and you two be more inseparable. He is hoping it'll advance into something more and if it doesn't, you being missing isn't a problem.

MUICHIRO TOKITO

The grass flutters against your exposed skin, tall and verdant, with the breeze—enjoying the calmness after a difficulty with a demon. You hummed ambling further into the meadow until you toppled over, yelping and frantic to catch yourself. You glanced down and gasped, there a boy laid as he observed you frantically spew apologies.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't see you-"

Muichiro watched aloofly before he raised a finger and flicked your forehead, "it's fine."

Muichiro wasn't sure what lured him to feel a way with you, you consumed his thoughts and his actions—he couldn't forget you.

OBANAI IGURO

You peered down at the albino serpent, his scales stroking your ticklish skin as he coiled around your leg. You had an idea who the snake belonged to, a man you really didn't conversate with nor interacted with, Iguro Obanai. You smiled, cautiously lowering your hand towards the reptile, and let him curl around your arm. "Hello, where's your owner?"

"Behind you."

Though neither of you engaged with each other, Obanai watched you from afar. Admiring you as you spoke to others, friendly and ambitious to help, jealous that he wasn't the one you were speaking to you—snapping at people who gave you dirty looks or treated you unfairly. Obanai was your guardian from the shadows, but now he was prepared to come out.

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iinsertblognamee · 8 months

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cure to a scary flight

summary ― sam doesn't like flying, you get seated next to her

pairing ― sam kerr x reader

warning/s ― fluff

based off this request

She was scared. She was always scared at this part. Plane trips were something she never got used to no matter how frequent they came. Sam’s fear of flying was as real as it was intense. She had tried every sleeping pill, every distraction, every ‘tip and trick’ that was meant to help but nothing seemed to work.

Seats were taken, Sam taking the aisle seat, like usual. You had been dealt the ‘unlucky’ straw. Seated next to Sam, although you weren’t sure who they were trying to torture more, you or her.

It was no secret you had a big fat crush on Sam, from the moment you had met her during a training session a few years back. Everyone on the team was aware of your pathetic crush except Miss Sam Kerr herself.

To give yourself credit, you had dropped many many hints before, and all seemed to have fallen through.

You pulled out your headphones, as you got yourself comfortable. The flight wasn’t too long, but long enough that you were determined to catch those extra hours of sleep you had lost getting up and ready for the flight.

“You doing okay there Kerr?”

Her hands were gripping on the armrest, her knuckles white. She gives a small hum, her head giving a sharp nod.

The plane ride was going to be bad enough, and now she had to sit just centimetres away from you, the one person she couldn’t control herself around. There was something about you, something she couldn’t quite catch that drew her to you. Your laughter, your smile - whatever it was, it caused Sam to be a complete idiot around you. Embarrassing herself left, right and centre.

“Not a fan of flights?”

Stating the obvious, you almost curse yourself. It wasn’t a secret Sam hated flying - it was one of the first things you had learnt about her in a team-building activity.

“You could say that”

“They say that these are safer than cars now, you know?” You offered casually, looking through the movie selection, you could see from the side, Sam’s head titling in your direction.

Sam felt her lips tug up a little, a small shake to her head. Y/N always had this thing about her, you were the perfect distraction, your enthusiasm contagious.

The doors were closing soon enough, Sam’s hand gripping onto yours. You gave her a gentle squeeze.

“We’ve got this Sammy, just a couple of hours and we’ll be in paradise. Portugal will make up for it”

Lift-off was the worst. Sam squinched up her eyes and tightened her grip on your hand. Sam also told herself that if she could get through the first ten minutes then she would be okay.

You could see Sam’s body tense up, the sound of the engine keeping her on edge. Your steady voice filled Sam’s ears during take-off.

“Look, Sam, look…as we get higher, the problems seem smaller. Your fear seems smaller. Let it all go. See for yourself.” You gave her a small nudge, as her eyes flickered open. She catches her breath as she takes a look out the window past you, the sunset capturing her attention. As beautiful as the sunset was, your attention didn’t stray from Sam’s face. The small smile on your face as you watch her take in the sight.

You could feel her body relax against you, although her hand stayed firm with yours. It wasn’t long before Sam had gotten comfortable, filling the once-tense atmosphere with laughter, movies and silly tales. You had even managed to win against Sam at a game of chess from the in-flight entertainment.

The easy-going flow was making you both confident. The simple touches are now a constant. The flirty comments came over tenfold. Your personal space is non-existent, wanting, no. Needing to be closer to Sam. You caught her on multiple times watching your lips, although you know she’s caught you doing the exact same thing.

The flight attendance broke our bubble, explaining we were getting ready to land and to make sure we had our seatbelts on. You could tell Sam was getting nervous again, her hand gripping yours once again, although this time instead of keeping her eye trained on the window she kept it on you.

“You’re very pretty” she breathes out, almost as if she was in pain. A small blush appears on your cheeks at the confession.

“You’re very pretty” you comment back, a shy smile on your lips. A silence engulfs us, the sounds of the engine filling the air once again. You keep a firm grip on Sam’s hand, a constant for her, rubbing your thumb to provide comfort.

“I don’t know why it’s taken a plane ride for me to ask you this, but do you think you would want to go out on a date with me sometime?” Her eyes hold hope, and you swear your heart beats just that little bit faster.

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that for years Kerr”

Safe to say, this was Sam’s favourite flight yet.

#request #sam kerr x reader #sam kerr imagines #sam kerr imagine #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader

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laundrybiscuits · 1 year

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Will’s looking at him with those tragic eyes, this kid who’s almost as tall as Eddie but seems centuries younger, infinitely more fragile and breakable. And shit, Eddie is not at all prepared to be some kind of queer mentor. He’s barely keeping his head above water with Robin, who doesn’t expect him to be anything other than a peer with a little more experience in his pocket; he’s a piss-poor option for baby Byers, who desperately needs some kindly gay Gandalf in his life. A role model with like, a long-term boyfriend and a city job and one of those yappy purse dogs.

But Eddie’s the only one here, and what else can he do? So he takes a deep breath and prepares to say something really wise and mentor-y. He doesn’t know what it is yet, but it’ll definitely be both appropriate and profound.

“I mean, it worked out for you, right?” says Will.

“Uh,” says Eddie, thrown completely off track. “What?”

“With—” Will flushes, but continues in a low voice. “You know. With Steve, and all.”

“What,” says Eddie again.

“I mean, sorry if that’s…I know you guys haven’t exactly been telling people, but…you know you can tell me, right?”

“Ahahaha,” says Eddie. “What.”

“I think it’s nice, how you guys managed to move past all the high school stuff and find each other. It’s like—a happy ending, right?”

“Right. I mean, wrong. I mean, whatever you think is going on, it’s not. Jesus christ, Will the Wise, there’s absolutely no way anything would ever be—where are you even getting this? We’re not—we’re not.”

“Sure.” Will rolls his eyes, and Eddie is reluctantly reminded that this kid can be a catty bitch too sometimes. “That’s why he was wearing your Black Sabbath shirt last Tuesday, and why you keep Springsteen in your glove compartment, and why his car is parked in your driveway almost every night. Dude, Dustin doesn’t even bother calling Loch Nora when he’s trying to find Steve now, he just goes straight to your place.”

Laid out like that, it’s a little damning.

“That’s—all out of context,” says Eddie weakly. “And—and Steve is straight, anyway. So. Check and mate, Byers.”

Will lets out an annoyed breath. “I’m sixteen, you know. You don’t have to—look, sorry if I’m pushing too much with this, but…don’t lie to me, okay? Friends don’t lie.”

Eddie’s heard the kids say that last thing every so often, like a mantra or some godawful affirmation. He huffs, shaking his hair out of his face.

“Y’know, that little catchphrase you’ve got isn’t the worst rule in the world, but it’s not the most nuanced, either. Ever heard of discretion, kid?”

“Right,” says Will. “Discretion.” He winks at Eddie, squinching the whole side of his face up like he’s never actually tried winking before, and Eddie is momentarily struck dumb with how terrible the effort is.

Just then, Dustin barrels in talking a mile a minute about some idea he needs Will for immediately, yes right now, Eddie’ll still be here afterwards, come on.

As Eddie watches them go, he awards himself one Gay Gandalf point for effort, and negative five million points for the trouble he can smell coming down the line.

(eta: I am a god damn liar. continuation here.)

#this is not the start of a new fic #it's just an unattached snippet #that last ask got me thinking about how Eddie handles his relationships so I wrote up a quick thing with Will #I'm not saying it WON'T get a continuation someday #or even some kind of intro that would give it literally any context whatsoever #but it definitely won't be any time soon if it does #tbh I think it's a bit of a cliche and idk if I can spin it enough to make it interesting for me to write #fic: young man what do you wanna be

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ceilingfan5 · 7 months

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thankpologies

(another @taznovembercelebration delight, for sick)

“I can do it,” Kravitz murmbles hoarsely from under about fifteen blankets. He stares blankly up at the dark ceiling. Taako wants to put him in his pocket and he isn’t even wearing pants yet.

“Yeah?” Taako shuts off their fourth alarm. And the fifth one, you know, preemptively. “You sure there, bud?”

“I can do it,” he insists, like he’s trying to convince himself, too. “I’m……………………….good.”

“You’re good?” Taako’s trying not to laugh, he promises. Kravitz looks miserable. He looks like a wet sack of marbles left behind in a dead mall. What were those marbles for? Why are they wet? Is someone going to miss the marbles? Who can say. But they’re going in Taako’s pocket.

“Sooooo good.” Kravitz tries to sit up, fails, and squinches his eyes shut, groaning. “I’m, good. I’m good. I’m good I’m good I’m good. I can do it.”

“What if,” Taako says, “Hear me out.”

“I’m not staying h— ome.” Kravitz swallows, once, twice, a third time, none of them looking less unpleasant. “Home,” he corrects. “No way. Got. Too much work to day. Do.”

“Hear me out though,” Taako says. “Perhaps, correct me if I’m wrong, the county coroner should maybe not look like a zombie.”

“I d- doh- hhh. Zombie.” Kravitz tries to sit up properly, and it makes Taako wince just to watch him. He unwraps another single cracker from the Freshstack ™ they were working through at two in the morning, and hands it to him. Kravitz nibbles on it like the world’s most pathetic mouse. Like if a mouse was divorced, and crying a little, and wet, like a sack of marbles. He gets about a third of the way through this monumental obstacle and then lets his hand flop down, and Taako is very normal and makes no crumb comments, because his boy is ailin’.

Ooooh, is he ailin’. So ailin’ he’s from another planet.

“Let’s write your boss an email, and then tuck you back in, buster.”

“Noooooo,” Kravitz whines.

“My guy, my handsome criminal empire cohost, you get that you are making Taako be the voice of reason, yeah?”

Kravitz considers this.

“Haven’t barfed yet,” he says, petulantly.

“Sit up and put on your tie,” Taako challenges.

There’s a long beat.

“No?”

“That’s what I thought, asshole.” Taako reaches over and squeezes Kravitz’s hand with affection. He hands him his phone. “Let’s just, be brief. Dear boss, can’t come in today, so sorry. Love you, bye.”

Kravitz drops his phone on his face.

“Fuck,” he says, delayed. Taako covers a snort. Poor beast. He takes the phone and can’t cover a second one. “Oh, buddy.”

“Yeah?” Kravitz blinks, and rubs his general face zone.

“Your beautiful schnozz hit send on this masterpiece?” Taako shows him, but not until after taking a screenshot and sending it to himself, for posterity and also social media crimes.

To: [email protected]

Subject: ow

DEAR HELLO Cannot’nt come to death today, I am maybe am not well enough to help bodies thankpologies K

–sent from my iPhone

“What’s wrong with it?” Kravitz says, grimacing.

“Yeah, you’re not goin’ fuckin’ anywhere, beloved,” Taako decides. He hands him his damaged little sadboy cracker and kisses his forehead and tucks him in, and starts doing the Get Ready Shimmy. “I’ll be checking in on you on my lunch hour, unless you think I need to call in too, and take your sorrowful mouse ass to the hopsicle.”

“Probaly not,” Kravitz cannot manage a whole lot of conviction. He nibbles the cracker. Wetly. “I’ll…watch the price is right?”

“You’ll sleep.”

“I’ll sleep,” Kravitz confirms, snuggling down, forgetting about the last third of the cracker right then and there. Given permission to burrow back into his pathetical little mousehole, his whole body relaxes, and somehow he manages to look even greyer. “I’ll sleep so many.”

“So many.” Taako pats something in the vicinity of his shoulder. “Poor bastard. If you get me sick, I am going to kill you.”

“No promises,” Kravitz sighs, almost immediately dozing right back off.

Shame Taako loves him so much.

[id: a space themed game board with 15 spaces and a cat, fish, and "good worker" sticker on 1, 2, and 3 respectively]

#sickfic #taakitz #taakitz fic #taz #tazb #taz balance #the adventure zone #the adventure zone balance #fan5fics #nausea #illness

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averseunhinged · 1 month

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hello it's still wip wednesday. thank god.

this week's offering to the gods is more of last week's pornless porn with feelings. still no porn, but even more feelings. chronologically, this snippet is before last week's, if you want to read them in order.

“I assume we can lift the ban on Tyler as a topic of conversation.” He coughed again and snorted, wet-gross and deep in his sinuses.

He'd been like that for months now. Comfortable enough with her to be considerate of her feelings. It wasn't entirely true to say he'd been the only one around, but it wasn't entirely untrue either. Elena could only be forced up for air occasionally. She was shacked up with Damon, grieving Jeremy, and obsessed with getting revenge on Katherine, who was shacked up with Elijah, much to Klaus’s displeasure and Rebekah’s aggravation, and therefore unrevengable. So, Elena wasn’t exactly a party to be around. Caroline dragged her out to a town event in June and for shakes at the Sonic in Waynesboro a few times. Other than that, Elena kept to herself and Caroline let her.

Expression, as Lucy explained when she finally returned, was a little bit like meth for witches. Bonnie spent the first few weeks of summer detoxing alone with her before she gave Caroline and Elena exhausted hugs and let Lucy haul her off to try to repair her relationship with her mother. Something about confronting past family trauma to help clear out her witchy pipes.

Stefan left town indefinitely. Caroline understood why he had to go. Of course she did. It still sucked. They talked on the phone once a week, and he texted road trip pictures as proof of life in between, but she'd underestimated how much of her time and worrying had been spent on Stefan and his needs. The distance between them left her with a wistful aimlessness, like empty nest syndrome, except her child was a centenarian mass murderer with an unbearably shitty love life.

Matt drank his way through Europe for the entire month of June, having wild sex with strangers, if Rebekah was to be believed. He'd started working again the day after he returned, jetlagged and irritable, and hadn't had a day off since. As much as Caroline wished she could command more of his attention, she couldn't steal his time when he was working towards his future, the kind only humans had, limited and precious. She was proud of him for passing his classes and graduating and getting his life together. She was even proud of him for running off with Rebekah and having the experience of a lifetime with her. It was all she'd ever wanted for Matt, even back when she'd thought she'd wanted him herself. For him to enjoy himself and be appreciated and not have to be so very responsible all the time.

And then there was Tyler.

“You know, I'm starting to think maybe you don't want to get laid.” Caroline crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her hip, knowing it did miraculous things to her cleavage and the line of her leg in the short, flippy skirt.

“That,” he pointed at his face, still wincing from the burn of bourbon in his sinuses, “was entirely your fault. What sort of heathen springs that on a man out of nowhere?”

“Well, I couldn't not ask! What was I supposed to do? Just walk in and throw myself at you?"

"Seduction truly is a lost art," Klaus mused, relaxing further back into the corner and crossing his legs at the ankle. The birds on his shoulder rippled as he made a brief, languid gesture. "Perhaps I wish to be wooed."

"Like you're the master of seduction," she scoffed.

"Oh, come now. I saved your life and gave you a diamond bracelet on our first date."

"Okay." Caroline held up one index and tapped it against her forehead, squinching her eyes. "Let's put a pin in giving girls jewelry on a first date. We'll circle back around to that huge red flag."

"A recent development. It wasn't always inappropriate."

"But more importantly, that wasn't ever a first date. That was an attempted murder."

He let his head fall back on the sofa and looked at her, heavy lidded and slow blinking, and with a distant, barely curving smile said, "I liked you. We had a pleasant conversation. I met your mother and one of your friends. You even gave me a kiss at the end. Is that not a date?"

Caroline tried not to squirm at the flush burning across her cheeks. It hung over them with a strange weight she'd never understood, those times when he'd let her dig her teeth in and have him. His one stolen taste of her.

"That was not a—” she stuttered and wanted to cringe at the childishness of it, “a—"

"No?" His smile broadened and he traced his gaze down her bare throat. "There's more than one way to kiss, sweetheart.”

#HAH #I DID IT #EAT SHIT CURSE #YOU CANNOT HAVE ME #klaroline wip wed

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bisayawa · 1 year

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the caretaker's side ; alejandro vargas/fem! reader

― sickfic, hurt/comfort, fluff, tiniest bit of angst

― reader is fem, regarded as sampaguita (a fragrant flower native to tropical asia), she/her pronouns used

warning: icky sickness stuff, vomiting, coughing, pills, capsules, crying.

note: i don't think this is anything, just recalling what i've experienced when skipping meals (gastritis? i think it's called? i try to explain it somewhat here.) reader & al are in a situationship of some kind. idk i didn't think this through. not proofread.

"good to see you back, alejandro!"

the afternoon was noisy with chatter & song. his cousins were frantic to meet with him once they arrived, shouting praise & honor with each grin they wore. his mother, his father hugged him so tight they might as well have been one. his sisters, his brother ― nearly crying when they saw his scruffy face. his little nephews & nieces ― excited in the way they walked & talked & held his hand all the way through the day.

but there was one person, amidst all the laughter & noise of the day, he found himself thinking of.

"so... mama," he tried to broach, though he knew in his heart his questions wouldn't get past her. his mother is perceptive as she is loving.

"yes?"

"sampaguita still lives down the street, no?"

she smiles, the lines of her face squinching up. it masks her suspicion.

"yes, she does," his mother says. "still the same house, still working in the same clinic. if i recall, she's trying to visit her family for the holidays ― in november maybe."

"...and her father?"

"he's travelling, cariño, but last i heard ― just as he left, she went down with a terrible sickness. she took leave about half a day ago." his mother's voice had taken a curious quality, soft & cheeky.

alejandro's face falls at the sickness of his friend.

"oh," he intones. "is she alright then? did she go to a hospital?"

"oh, no, cariño." her voice is honey, chokingly so ― too sweet to not be a scheme.

"she wanted to take care of herself in her own home. we tried to help but ―" she shrugs. "she refused, felt herself a burden, poor girl."

the sentence did its job. the seed was planted. alejandro would visit his friend come morning.

―

"alejandro? you're back!" is what you say when you open the door, eyes bleary & grey-faced in the wake of the sun.

"yes, that i am, sampaguita,"

the lines of his grin still make you warm in the chest. your friend, as always, was as handsome as could be.

"i'd invite you inside but," your hoarse voice tapers down. you see your buckets & dropcloths by the sink, the sheets of pills & capsules, a gatorade going warm on the floor. "it's a mess in here."

"that's exactly why i'm going inside, sampaga."

"what?"

"i heard you were sick. you need someone to help."

"wha ― no, alejandro, you don't need to ―"

"i've already made up my mind."

"you ― you shouldn't waste your leave on something like this!"

"with you, it's not a waste." he says, no violent rejection ― just the gentle strength of words & care. "please, let me in."

you grumble. your matted hair is wiry, curling along your shoulders. you feel like a mess, sweaty from trying to break your fever, unable to take a bath because of said fever. your clothes were from the day before yesterday, most likely with drops of regurgitated food, smelling of stomach acid.

"sampaga," he meets your eyes. "i won't take no for an answer."

you wilt, shrugging into yourself.

"you won't be disgusted?"

"mi cariño, i work in the special forces. i believe i've seen worse."

you always thought that there were times he's had to use that exact grin for his job ― to reassure families, children of the safety he'd give. you just didn't think you'd be one of the people receiving it.

you welcome him inside, closing the door with a click & locking it in place.

his eyes rove from wall to wall, corner to corner. he sees the buckets, the dropcloths, the pills, the capsules, even the gatorade going warm on the hardwood floor.

he finds your face, and smiles, tight-lipped, sincere. it was meant to comfort & it did exactly that.

"come on," he says. "let's get you to bed."

entering the bedroom brings more mess. there was porridge on your nightstand, half eaten & cold. a bottle of water stood by, three quarters of the way full. your sheets were a mess. the blanket was running down the side of the bed. a pillow was sitting on the floor.

without a word from you, he sets out to fix the bed sheets.

you had half a mind to protest before deciding you wouldn't win that conversation. you choose to carry the bowl of porridge to the kitchen sink, watering it down before going back to bed.

he holds your hand when you settle down, sitting by your legs when your head finds the pillow.

"how'd you get sick?" is what he asks, kneading the cloth where your knees billow the blankets up.

"i skipped a meal."

"well, there you go," he chuckles, and so do you.

you recline to your side, ruffling up the sheets even further.

"i had an early breakfast the other day & by the time 11 o'clock happened, i was already hungry. i couldn't find the time to eat ― i had forgotten because we had a fire safety seminar."

your hair is curling up & around, looking like a crown.

he sees you yawn & his eyes go softer.

"it's interesting though," you say. your hand is now on his.

"what is?"

"this isn't from bacteria, you know? or a virus or any infectious agent. it's just... my body doing its job because i didn't take care of it."

"see? even your body is telling you to take care of yourself. ah, so stubborn, never listening to anyone."

at that, you laugh with him. the corners of your lips pushing your cheek further into the pillow.

"i'll listen from now on, i promise."

he faintly feels your fingertips kneading circles into his knuckles.

"wait, if you skipped a meal, how come the...?" he recalls the buckets & cloths strewn around the house.

"skipping a meal means the acid in the stomach ―" you cough into your elbow, rough, forceful. "the acid in the stomach has no food to digest. it sits there long enough, it eats into the stomach lining."

"so... the stomach,"

"the stomach gets irritated, inflammed. some people bleed, too. the irritation means you can't keep the food down, or at least, a lot of it." you clear your throat. "antacid helps. painkillers, too."

he cards his fingers through your hair & kisses your brow. he holds your cheek in his hand. it's warm against his palm.

"you stay here, okay?" he asks. "i'll clean up, and then i'll make you some soup."

"alejandro ―"

"whatever you say won't stop me." his grin is smug but genuine. he wants to take care of you, you realize belatedly.

"thank you. you don't have to do this."

he chuckles. "i'd do it ten times over if i have to. you're never getting rid of me, sampaguita."

―

the first bout of emesis he witnesses happens late at night.

he had taken to using the guest room after insisting you needed to be monitored even in sleep. you lost that conversation fighting, he admits, but still, you lost.

the room was close to the bathroom, where he heard your footfalls echo into the dead of night.

he opens the door & finds a sliver of light carving the hallway in half.

he sees you, then, on the floor, with your hair in your hands. the force of your stomach clenching makes you jump from your seat. it looks painful, especially with the way you're hunched over.

he sits with you, taking your hair & rubbing circles into your back. the corrosive smell did not ward him away. the line of spittle & half-digested food did not scare him.

he hears you cough, a detonation of fireworks in the muscles of your throat. it catches in your esophagus. you're tearing up, and when you spit it out, it comes streaked with blood.

it's there that alejandro flinches. seeing that bright red, seeing it come from you, you who was in pain, who was tired, who had your sleep interrupted by bouts of nausea.

he couldn't help it. he hugged you tighter.

―

he found a cloth somewhere in your room. he didn't remember.

all he recalled was drying the tears that ran down your face, wiping the corners of your lips.

"i can do it myself, alejandro," your voice was rough, like stone grating on iron. it sounded like the color red, raw & bleeding. agony in a breath.

alejandro couldn't reply. what would he say? that he couldn't do anything else but bring you medicine & food? that the sickness in your body can only be fought by you? that if he could fight your hurts rather than nurse them, he would?

illness was an invisible enemy. no strategy, no surprise. just waiting & watching for results until it all becomes better again.

he didn't know illness could hurt from the caretaker's side, too.

"you coughed until you drew blood,"

"so? it's not the first time."

your words startle him. how could you say that so cavaleirly? so carelessly?

"that's not... cariño, that's not the p―"

"it's not that serious ―"

"to me, it is, cariño! listen!"

he raised his voice. he begged the earth would swallow him whole.

"i didn't mean to shout... at you. it's ― you're..."

his irises meet yours & he feels himself grow small.

you were crying. big fat droplets were running down your cheeks, reaching the bunched up sheets inside your clenched hands. you swallow, come back to your senses.

the water registers & you're frantic to wipe away every last tear.

"no..." your voice was breaking like glass. "alejandro, just get out, please, this isn't your fault. i'm sorry. i'm not crying because of you."

the words are blurred together, coiling & writhing in a symphony of your hoarse, broken tenor.

alejandro feels a lump in his throat. he's caused you more pain, and you were apologizing. he doesn't want to cry, too. no, he shouldn't.

his hands have gone limp on the blankets, unsure, hesitant.

"samp ― may i hold you, please?" there's a crack when he says please.

you eyes are filling with tears again. they run along their course & meet the corners of your lips.

"yes..." your voice ― a stained glass window stoned to splinters. "please."

and so he does, planting his hands on your shoulders, pulling you to his chest. your hair tickles the underside of his chin, catching on the scruff.

there's a low groan wheedling out your esophagus, bringing with it an uneven breath.

then another.

and another.

you're hiccupping. your whole chest is trembling under him. your lungs under his fingertips stretch with each inhale, trying to accommodate air that shouldn't be there.

"deep breaths, cariño, deep breaths."

he has to remind himself not to hold you too tight, else you get smothered. with no other avenue to reassure you, he does what he can. he rubs your back & kisses your forehead.

"i'm sorry." he says into your temple.

"you ―" two erratic inhales. "you shouldn't be sorry."

the pitch of your voice rises & falls. the muscles in your throat spasm in tune with the inhales.

"no, i am. i'm sorry that i ―"

"stop apologizing, please." you bury yourself further into him, weave your arms around his torso. "stop it, stop it, please."

it's barely a whisper but he follows, blindly, as if your words were gospel.

―

the day goes on after dawn.

your head was splitting after your sobbing session. you take a paracetamol sooner than the prescribed four hours.

alejandro was busy cooking you something. soup, you guessed, or maybe more porridge. you couldn't tell from the smell. both your nostrils were blocked.

you'd been restrained to sitting or lying down on the bed as per alejandro's reprimands. he had listed reason after reason to not let you walk out nor even stand up to do anything in your room.

"you've just vomited all your food." he had said. "your stomach is empty. your source of energy is gone. get some rest, sampaguita. drink something."

you took to staring at the sunrise in the far corner of the room. the window was ajar, not even open all the way. you see the rays of light pass behind the curtain, pointing up to the walls & the ceiling.

there's wind somewhere outside, making the drapes fly up. bird were singing, faintly.

the door opens & alejandro brings in a tray full of food, water, medicine & a small basin, presumably for future instances of nausea.

despite the aches of your head, throat, chest & nose, you grin whe he sets it down, beckoning him closer to your seat at the bed.

"thank you," you're pensive for a while. then you take his hand & you give it a small peck.

"you don't need to thank me every time i do something, sampaga. it's alright."

"& are you gonna stop me?"

there it is, a face so joyous & radiant that it lights up like a full moon. the squinch of your nose, the arch of your eyelids, a golden dream of a person. alejandro could kiss you. he almost did.

but he did something better. he gave you the bowl of hot soup & a bottle of warm water. he helped you take the medicine when you finished your meal & he tucked you in when you felt drowsy.

he'll take care of you, he promises.

#alejandro vargas #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas x you #colonel vargas x reader #colonel vargas x you #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty #mwii #my fic.

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meatiey · 11 months

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HELLOOO!!!! Sub changbin x male reader where changbin just needs a rough fucking to forget all of his stress w all the idol stuff

AHHH I LOVE THIS IDEA SM🤭❤️

STRESSED

Sub! Changbin x Dom! Male reader

You sighed as you sat down against the couch, going on your phone in the meantime. You couldn't help but go through the text messages between you and Changbin.

He had promised that he wouldn't overwork himself again and that he would be home by 9pm.

It was already 10pm.

It was an hour past and yet he still wasn't home. Just then you heard the front door unlock. You turned to see Changbin walking through the door. He almost immediately ran up to you sobbing falling onto your lap.

"Hey, Binnie, what's wrong? Why are you so late?"

"I-I'm sorry...i, just, i, please help me." Changbin sobs. You pull him closer to you as he cries, burying his head into your neck.

"P-please just fuck me already. I'm so tired. I need you please. I need your cock in me so deep. I want you to fuck me so rough. I just wanna forget about all of this stress that's been on my mind. Just please."

"My poor baby. You've been so stressed lately huh. You deserve my cock don't you. I'll fuck you nice and good."

"Y-yes! please fuck me already!" Changbin nearly chocked on his own words. He was so needy. He just needed your cock to be in him. He wanted your cum in his tummy so badly.

"okay then. You take off your clothes while I go get the lube alright?"Changbin immediately nodded his head and slipped off of your lap so you could get up. As you left to grab the lube while Changbin took his clothes off.

You came back to see him naked laying on the couch with his face down ass up. His dick was already dripping precum.

You put a generous amount of lube on your fingers. You hovered over him as you entered a finger into his pink hole.

"p-please move already." Changbin stuttered, needy for you.You showed no mercy. You fucked your finger into him and soon adding a second finger. His moaning slowly turning more high pinched the more you fucked him.

He nearly screamed when you added two more fingers making it now four fingers in his hole. You loved stretching him out. He was so cute like that. "please! faster, please! ugh oh my god!"He was moaning loudly as you proceeded to fuck his hole at a fast pace. he was already so close to his release.

"please! I'm gonna cum please! oh my god, don't stop!"

"You gonna cum?"

"Y-yes!" Changbin moaned, choking on his words."

"Go ahead baby. Make a mess for me."

Changbin released onto the couch, white cum dripping from his cock. You eventually took your fingers out of his hole. Changbin whined at the feeling of nothing in him. His hole desperately squinched around nothing.

You took off your pants and boxers and put lube on your cock. You gave yourself a few pumps before entering Changbins needy hole.

He moaned at the feeling of being full again. You gave him some time to adjust before you slowly started to move inside of him.

Changbin moaned and whined at the overstimulation.

"Such a good boy for me. Taking masters cock so well."Changbin whined as he moved his hips, desperate for you to move. Changbin was lost in pleasure when you slammed into his hole showing no mercy once so ever. Slamming into him at an ungodly fast pace.

Changbins mouth locked wide open, and moaned louder than ever once you hit his prostate.

"ugh right there! dont stop! keep hitting there please!"You fucked him in that same angle, hitting his prostate each time. His wet tip getting friction from the couch below him as well.

Your cock was balls deep in him as you pounded into his ass. the sound of your thighs slapping together filled the room as well as Changbins pathetic whimpers and moans.

"f-fuck! please I'm gonna cum! keep going don't stop- please oh my god!"

Changbin moaned loudly as you fucked him.You were close to your release as well.

"I'm close too, baby. aw I bet you wanna be filled with my cum huh. You want my cum to make a bulge in your tummy?"

"Y-yes! fuck! I wanna hold your babies! please cum in me!" He kept whining and moaning about how much he needed your cum.

Soon both of you had released. Changbin shaking from the overstimulation and the cum dripping out of his hole.

"so full..." He mewled.You took your cock out of his hole and turned him around so his face was facing you. You moved his hair out of his face before giving him a few kisses.

"You doing good? Do you feel better, baby?"

"of course. I've never felt better." Changbin replied, with a soft smile and teary eyes from earlier.

Help this was so bad💀

#stray kids x male reader #sub!stray kids smut #sub!changbin #Sub!changbin x male reader #Meatiey #Smut #fanfics #kpop fanfic #kpop smut

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ariaste · 4 months

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I'm just starting to read Tadek and the Princess (57 pages in and already crying omggg) and I was wondering, what do you imagine he looks like? If you had to liken him to an actor, who would it be?

I'm so glad you're enjoying the book!! Unfortunately I am very bad at actors, so I don't have any face refs like that. He's about Kadou's height or a squinch taller, he has a short ponytail, and he has laughing hazel eyes and a foxy sort of face with foxy sorts of expressions. Hope that.... helps???? LOL. Anyway, enjoy the rest of the book!

#a taste of gold and iron #tadek and the princess #the mahisti dynasty #alexandra rowland

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kedreeva · 1 year

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wrt your tags about eddie manhandling the kids ummm i am politely asking you to write a drabble about steve getting manhandled

I'm sorry I can't write a drabble about this.

Will an entire 5+1 fic do instead?

------

I. June

It’s not like the couch is even all that comfortable, not any more so than the ones at his own house, but something about sitting on Eddie’s couch, the lights turned low, the TV glimmering with something they chose for themselves, is just… comforting. Especially when Eddie lets him lean his head on his shoulder, when Steve is close enough to hear the steady thump-thump of Eddie’s heart and feel the soft heat of him under his cheek.

It had been about two months since they’d nearly lost him. Steve had brushed shoulders with death a few times since ‘83, but had never had to make the call to split the danger with someone. He’d never had to send someone to fight because he couldn’t. He’d never had to carry anyone home, bloody and broken and so, so still. The last time he’d even been at a hospital was for Will, and he hadn’t really known the kid back then.

It had been something else, sitting beside Eddie, and Max, not knowing if they would wake up. If he would spend the rest of his life worrying he’d let them spread themselves too thin, that he’d just gone along with the plan that had gotten them killed. In the desolate calm of hindsight, he’d tied himself in knots thinking of all the other ways this could have all gone.

But Eddie had opened his eyes four days later, and Max after a week, and they’d been out of there after a couple more weeks. Everyone had so far taken turns being a nuisance between their trailers – new ones for both of them, courtesy of the government – checking in on them, spending time with them. Sometimes Steve is over at Max’s, holding her Wonderwoman comics for her to read or letting her talk about the boys, and sometimes they meet in the middle and hang out in the yard on nice days or evenings.

And other times he finds himself right here, glued to Eddie’s side, watching a movie Robin had passed to him before he left for the night. Sometimes Eddie pays attention, other times he leans his head back against the couch and his face squinches up a little as he rides out the pain. Those times have become less as the wounds become scars, as the horror of their ordeal fades into the past.

Now, June had reared its head and with it the warmth of summer, nipping at the heels of spring’s chill, chasing off the reminder of the cold place where they’d nearly lost everything. Now Eddie’s smiles come easily again, and he even comes out on occasion. Eddie doesn’t comment when Steve falls asleep on his shoulder, peaceful in the knowledge that he had been on time, that Eddie was fine, that Max was across the street, that El had closed the gate that had sundered Eddie’s home and things are okay for a while.

“Hey,” Eddie mumbles, turning his head to touch his cheek to the crown of Steve’s head. He lets it rest there and so does Steve.

Steve makes some kind of noise that can be taken as a sign of life, and tries to drag his eyes open. He fails.

Eddie chuckles and the sound rumbles under Steve’s cheek and Steve’s answering smile feels like a wonderful contagion. “You still planning on going home?”

That drags Steve’s eyes open and he looks blearily at his watch. Eddie’s right. It’s late, and he should go home. He still needs to shower after work, especially since he opens tomorrow. He pulls reluctantly away from Eddie and stretches a little, yawning like a cat. When Eddie gets up beside him, Steve all but melts into the warm spot left behind, turning to gaze up at Eddie. The exasperated smile Eddie turns on him is so full of fondness it almost makes Steve guilty for not getting up with him.

“Gonna make me carry you?” Eddie asks, voice light.

Steve snorts. “As if you could,” he says, stifling another yawn. It’s so warm and nice here. He’d been sleeping so much better than he does at home. “You’d probably pop a stitch or something.”

“No more stitches,” Eddie reminds him, grin going devilish. “You think I can’t pick you up?”

Steve shrugs, knowing it will be infuriating to the other boy. He doesn’t really want Eddie to pick him up – he may not have stitches anymore, but Steve knows exactly how tender and fragile the wounds still feel, because he’s got his own – so he holds up his hands in a silent ask for reasonable assistance off the couch.

Eddie, eyes light with mischief, and Steve really should have expected the way he bypasses Steve’s hands and dives right for Steve’s armpits. Steve’s hands fly to grasp onto him, nearly shoving him away before he has to hold on tighter. Eddie hoists him straight up off the couch and rights him onto his feet.

Heat scratches at the back of Steve’s neck, flushes under his collar as they stand there a second, Steve still grasping too-tight at Eddie’s forearms, Eddie not moving until Steve actually straightens and proves he can stand on his own. Steve can’t breathe- he’s never been just- just picked up like that. Casually, if Eddie’s bright, shit-eating grin is anything to go by. Eddie hasn’t thought about it at all. He hadn’t even noticed the effort, if it had even been effort.

Steve lets out a shaky breath, and something like concern flickers across Eddie’s features a second before he withdraws his touch. “You okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No,” Steve assures him quickly. Maybe ruined him a little, but he hadn’t hurt him. “I’m fine.” He forces a smile, all the sedation of sleep that had settled into his bones replaced by the electricity of adrenaline. “I should- I should get home.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, slowly, but he walks Steve to the door, and he doesn’t ask questions.

And if Steve sits in his car for a few extra minutes, that’s his own business, and if he doesn’t stop wondering for a week if Eddie really could pick him up and carry him, well, that’s his own business, too.

Find the rest on AO3!

#asks #anon asks #stranger things #steddie #stranger things fic #my writing #Will be posting the rest soon #working on the +1 still

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goaliekisses · 1 year

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sid’s face in that though 🥺

simply a squinch

just a scronch

#he’s soooo #🥺#sidney crosby #pittsburgh penguins

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salchat · 4 months

Text

Springtime of my loving

There was someone standing at the foot of the jungle gym. She caught a dark shape out of the corner of her eye. It’d better not be Coralie wanting her to come and play families, or worse, Heather, pretending to want to be her friend, but actually just being a total bitch.

Charlie carefully drew a fine, straight line coming from her knight’s hand, aiming for the soft underbelly of the attacking dragon - because everyone knew that was where they were vulnerable.

Then she flicked a careful glance at the potential disturber of her peace. If she made eye contact, whoever it was might think she was interested in them, and Charlie was more than happy doing her own thing in her own dragon-infested world, thank you very much.

Oh. It wasn’t one of the girls. It was Dean.

Dean was a kind-of friend. She’d shown him one of her pictures once and he hadn’t laughed at her red-haired, dragon-fighting lady knight. He’d said she was ‘awesome’. And if Dean sometimes teased her, it was in a nice way, and not a ‘I’m pretending to be nice but actually I really think you’re scum,’ kind of way. Adults never seemed to get the difference - so that if you snapped and punched someone in the stomach as hard as you could, you got the blame because they were ‘only being friendly.’ When they weren’t.

Anyway, Dean was okay, mostly.

He was an onion-person, of course. Lots of people were like onions - so many layers of stuff that wasn’t really them covering up what was inside. But Charlie didn’t mind the layers. And a couple of times she thought she’d glimpsed what was hiding inside Dean’s tight wrappings and she'd liked what she’d seen.

At the moment though, Dean was using his cool-guy onion skin, which he did most of the time outside of class. In class he used the slow-kid skin, or sometimes the bad-kid skin and it took a clever teacher to peel the skins away - cleverer than Miss Smelly Hanson, that was for sure.

Charlie flicked Dean another sidelong glance. He was leaning against the jungle gym, arms crossed, one leg straight, the other bent up, his head tipped on one side, eyes narrowed - like he was seeing stuff way too dark and deep for most eight-year-olds. And actually, even though the pose was a familiar part of the cool-guy routine, this was Dean. So maybe those dark and deep things actually existed.

He took an audible breath and let it hiss out through his parted lips, his eyes squinching up even tighter. It was a super-awesome act, even if he really needed a leather jacket to pull it off completely. His too-small, holey hoodie didn’t work.

Dean was building up to something, though. In fact - and the handful of trail mix she’d been nibbling on suddenly started skittering around her insides - all this must be for Charlie’s benefit. He was going to ask her out, wasn’t he? He must like her. Like like her. Oh God, this could be really bad.

“Hey, Charlie?”

She closed her eyes and sent a quick prayer to Ganesha, who she’d recently come across in a solo expedition into the humanities section of the local library and she’d decided was a pretty cool kind of guy. Then she took a firm grip on her trusty pencil-lance and sat up, smiling brightly and, she hoped, unattractively.

“Dean!”

His lips wobbled, like he thought he should smile back, but cool, tough-guys didn’t smile. The potential smile got diverted into a choking splutter and his face turned bright red. Oh no. No. Please don’t, Dean.

He shifted awkwardly against the metal frame.

“Uh, so…” One hand made a bit for freedom from his crossed arms. It rubbed the back of his neck and then scratched through his hair, which was a bit longer and more floppy than Dean’s usual short spikes. “Um…yeah, so, uh…”

This was torture. If he was going to declare undying love, he should just spit it out.

“So, uh…” Dean’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. And then there was a blurting mix of maybe ten or so mashed-up syllables, with an uptick at the end to show it was a question.

Charlie stared at him. “What?”

Dean’s eyes darted from the dusty ground to hers and back again. He took a deep breath and then ran through his word-mess again, marginally slower.

“Whatd’youdoifyouthinkyoulikesomeone?”

Read on AO3

#supernatural #fanfic #kid fic #charlie bradbury #dean winchester #castiel #destiel fic

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deadduvznap · 1 month

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bp jay being eaten out by sunoo and sunghoon walks in and joins pls 🙏

deadduvsnap birthday event

FEMALE ALIGNING DNI !!!!!!!

im gonna assume this is for my bday event ?? come here for a kissy actually no ill make out w you just for this also this is 1200 words so...

okay okay jay is in his room alone laying on his stomach on his phone his blankets on him hes cuddled up nice n warm and jake was gone when he woke up it was his day off for the first time since probably forever and he didnt really care what the other members were doing he just wanted to chill and practice his english so hes just chilling by himself and then sunoo walks in and hes like jay hyunggg what are you doing and hes like nothing im on my day off and suns like im boreddddd and he lays on top of jay tummy to his back and jay groans and puts his phone down onto the bed hes like get off me and he turns on his side and sunoo falls onto his side and hes between the wall and jay and jay flops back onto his stomach and turns his head to sunoo and they are so so close their heads are literally a fingers distance from each others noses and jay closes his eyes because the eye contact with sunoo is too much hes too cute the way his aegyo sal puffs up and his eyes squinch shut and the way and sunoo interrupts his thoughts with a hyung what are you thinking about and jay opens his eyes again nothing really sunoo and he turns onto his other side and is about to pick up his phone and sunoo wraps his arms around jay and pulls him into his back and rests his face in jays shoulder and jay shivers as he feels tingles shoot up his neck and down to his crotch and he clears his throat and shifts slightly and sunoo giggles a little bit moving his hand around and down his chest and his tummy and he kisses his neck and his ear and jay starts getting flustered he starts stuttering out a what are you doing and sunoo doesnt say anything he just turns jays head and gives him a peck on the cheek as he moves his hand down underneath his pants and boxers and jay starts freaking out because yeah he likes sunoo but theyve never done anything like this together but then he feels sunoos fingers start to slide against his wet folds just about to enter him and he grabs sunoos arm and sun laughs his light airy giggle and jay turns towards him and sun just looks at him and pulls him flat on his back and pulls his hand out of his pants and straddles him and sun smiles at him and takes his wet hand and puts it on jays lips and shoves it into his mouth hard all the way to the back of his throat and jay flinches back and gags on his fingers a bit at the shock of it and then sunoo crawls back and pulls jays pants and boxers down and off him and jay is sitting there kind of confused but not hating it and he covers his face with his hands the tip of his ears bright red and sunoo spreads his legs open and pushes his legs up almost to his chest and hes smiling and he giggles at jay and hes praising him about how pretty his cunt is and how cute he looks blushing hiding away and sunoo starts licking up his tongue flat against him he starts suckling lightly on jays clit and jay lets out a confused moan as he pushes his head back into the pillow and he puts his hand on sunoos head gripping his hair and hes pushing his head away and hes squirming around while sunoo licks and giggles at him and then they hear the door open and jay lets out a light scream as he tries to push sunoos head away and he grabs the comforter that was pushed to the side in their moving around and pulls it over his crotch and sunoos head and he tries to get up but sunoo is pushing him back down and hes not stopping licking and sucking and kissing and sunghoon just stands there his hand still on the door handle his mouth slightly opened his face and ears getting more red and he stutters his voice soft and deep the question he had trailing off and he goes to turn away but he turns back and starts walking to the bed and he pushes off the comforter from over sunoos head and jay is literally shaking from sunoos tongue on him and sunghoons eyes watching sunoos mouth working and standing over the both of them and sunoo detaches himself from jays cunt his fingers now entering his hole just long enough for catch his breath and he looks up at sunghoon and he goes hey sunghoon hyung you wanna join us and

he pushes jays legs farther apart and hoon nods his head and says yeah let me and he sits on jays bed and jay is looking at both of them watching as sunghoon stares down at sunoo and sunoo smiling up at sunghoon neither paying attention to him and watching them talk to each other almost casually as sunoo slowly fingers him and he feels his tummy tingle and that familiar trickle in him and sunghoon finally lays down next to sunoo and he looks up at jay and looks back at sunoo whos now looking intently at jays pussy his thumbs spreading the folds revealing his dripping hole and sunghoon looks down at jays hole and sunoos hands spreading him open and he replaces one of suns thumbs with his own and he dips his head down and presses his lips to jays hole and jay yelps and grabs sunghoons hair with his other hand and sunoo brings his own head down lips right near sunghoons nose to suck on jays clit and jays all flustered and moaning at the fact that he has two guys both younger than him and both his band mates making him feel good and sunghoons tongue in inside jays cunt as far as it will go and his head is tilted to the side to make space for sunoo whos licking and sucking his clit his finger prodding at jays hole alongside sunghoons tongue and jay feels that pressure in his lower tummy pushing down into him his legs pushing the two boys heads together and he pushes their heads closer together and into him while his body shakes and turns away his eyes are tearing up and hes bright red and hes dripping all over the boys faces and he moans loudly while he cums his chest stuttering with his breathing and his mouth hanging wide open when he goes almost limp and lightly pushes their heads away they pull back and are both breathing heavily and sunoo and sunghoon look at eachother both their chins sticky and wet from jays cunt and they kiss eachother and jay just sits there and watches lightheaded from how hard he came and he moans and the boys look at him and they are both hard and and and and and sorry guys my brain rotted and it hurts like hell

#ignore the different writing style kinda #im experimenting #:P #also #lets just say...#they got 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂...#afterwards #atlas speaks #enhypen smut #jay smut #sunoo smut #sunghoon smut #polyamory #sunoo x jay x sunghoon #sunsunjay smut #bday event <3

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