#I’m sick at the moment and can’t do much else but sit in bed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bookshelf-dust · 9 months

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kiss it better

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 3,176

warnings: swearing, sick fic (sorta), steve not taking care of himself, anxiety, stress, mental breakdown?, best friends to lovers deal (let me know if i missed something)

a/n: hi! it’s been awhile. i’m sorry about that. this has been a very slow process for me. my mental health is shit, and that’s probably obvious. i hope it hasn’t seeped into this too much, but it probably will with the next few things i write. i apologize for taking so long to post, for disappearing, for not really making this the blog it once was. but i’m not the same person i was then. so we’ll see where this goes. i hope you enjoy this one a little. i love you.

————

The shrill sound of a phone ringing scares you awake, eyes flying open, heart pounding so aggressively you fear for a split second that it might burst.

You sit up quickly, enough so that you make yourself dizzy trying to get your bearings. You roll onto your side, and reach blindly across the edge of your nightstand, grabbing for the green plastic that’s shaking with the force of which it’s ringing.

You almost fall out of bed, just managing to catch yourself as you bring the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

Your voice comes out weak, thick with sleep and the longing for more rest. It startles you and makes you clear your throat.

“Hey, it’s me.”

The voice on the other line is even weaker than your own. It’s quiet.

“Steve?”

Your eyes find the alarm clock on your dresser, bright red letters telling you it’s just after one in the morning. You might be half-asleep, but you’re conscious enough that your heart rate picks up, registering that this isn’t when your best friend normally calls.

You hear him breathe, along with some shuffling. He’s nodding his head, but realizes you can’t see.

“Yeah. Listen,” he drags a shaking hand down his face. “I’m sorry to call so late.”

“Hey, it’s okay. What’s the matter? Is something wrong?”

He goes quiet for a moment, but you wait patiently for him to continue. He must be trying to get something out, and you don’t want to pressure him, or cause him stress in any way.

Steve huffs, frustrated with himself.

“I-I’ve got an insane headache, and we’re out of goddamn medicine. My parents were here, and my mom was hungover and I guess she must’ve emptied us out, but it hurts too bad to drive, and…” He trails off, breathing heavily.

His pause lends you a moment to process, and you decide to speak up. If his head is killing him, you know finding the energy to speak to you, let alone call, has to be draining. You wouldn’t want him to suffer anymore than he already is.

“Stevie?” you start, happy to hear a small hum that encourages you to go on. He registers what you’ve called him, something you don’t call him often, and his chest aches. “I’ve got some I can bring you. I think all the drugstores nearby are closed.”

You swing your legs out from under the covers, pushing yourself off the mattress. Pressing the phone between your cheek and shoulder, you pull on the pair of sweats slung over the end of your bed, trying not to bust your ass as you hop into them.

“Is anything else hurting you?” you ask, gently as can be.

“Honestly?” he responds. “I think I’m sick. I can’t be sick, can I?”

You stand upright once again, taking the phone firmly in your hand.

“I think even King Steve can get sick from time to time. I’ll be there soon, okay?”

————

Steve’s not sure you understand him. He can’t be sick. He’s got shit to do. He has a shift tomorrow, and he’s pretty sure Dustin needs a ride one day this week because Claudia is on a “girls trip.” He has to keep working on his college essay, because he’d told you he was almost done, but really he isn’t.

Steve doesn’t have the time to be sick. And he can’t have you ruining your own schedule to come and babysit him. He’s supposed to be the babysitter. Not the charge.

He should be able to take care of himself, but of course, the one time his parents come home they clean out his mediocre supply of medicine. Something he’s always stocked up on, given his tendency to get the shit beat out of him, or the nasty string of tension headaches that just won’t quit.

And his head is killing him. He has his palms pressed to his temples, trying (and failing) to dull the ache. There aren’t any lights on in the kitchen, where he’s sitting on the floor, back pressed to the cabinets.

He’s trying not to move too much either, because he’s dizzy. This probably has to do with the fact that he skipped dinner, feeling too nauseous to eat. Now that Steve is hungry, he fears he won’t be able to get up and fix anything.

Maybe you’ll be able to help, he thinks. But that voice is quick with a counter argument. No. I need to do it.

He perks up at the sound of the front door opening. “Steve?” you call out, careful not to slam the door or yell too loud. It’s also why you hadn’t rung the doorbell.

Steve raps his knuckles softly against the countertop, hoping it’ll be enough to clue you in. He can’t bring himself to shout right now. You follow the sound, taking the few steps toward the kitchen.

When your eyes lock on his figure, see the way the heels of his hands press into his eyes, you realize how young he looks. He almost looks small, legs pulled up to his chest, big, lanky body compacted as much as possible. He looks vulnerable. You’re sure he hates that.

“Hi, Steve,” you say, keeping your voice low.

He looks up at you, and his face splits into a sweet grin. He’s happy that you’re here, even if that voice is screaming at him, wanting to punish him for asking for help.

“Hey, honey.” You smile back at him, and his heart rate picks up. Sometimes he forgets how beautiful you are, and then you’re standing in front of him, snatching every last breath from his lungs.

You set your bag down beside him and reach out, brushing his hair back from his forehead. He feels a little warm, but not feverishly so.

You move away from him, grabbing a cup from the drying rack. You fill it up with water and crouch at his side. Steve takes the glass from you, head resting against the cabinet to watch as you grab him some medicine. You hand him a few pills, and he takes them quickly. If he doesn’t get this headache calmed down soon, he thinks he might just die.

Steve keeps drinking the water you gave him, and you push his hair back again, watching the way it curls around his ears.

He drinks about half of the water before he pauses, taking a deep breath. He looks at you then. It’s mostly dark in the kitchen, but the lamp on the table by the front door is on, so you’re a little backlit from it. Not to mention the moonlight seeping in from the window above the sink.

You look gorgeous. And you came over to take care of him. You got up, at one in the morning, and drove to his house, just because he asked you to. Hell, he hadn’t even asked. He hadn’t gotten the words out. But you’d known. You’d known exactly what he was trying to ask, and you’d offered your help with no qualms.

Steve’s nose starts to sting, and that pressure from behind his eyes—it starts to release. Before he knows it, his vision is getting cloudy, and he’s crying. He can’t be crying, can he?

You carefully remove the glass from his hand and move in between his spread knees.

“Steve, it’s okay. I’m here, and I’m gonna take top notch care of you.”

“I know you are,” he says, voice breaking. “But I should be able to do it myself. I always do it myself.” He presses his hands against his face, but you catch his wrists and gently pull them away.

You hold your arms out, and Steve practically falls into you. He buries his face in your neck. He can feel the warmth of your skin, the cotton of your sleep shirt. You smell like soap, that fancy conditioner you use.

One of your hands finds the base of his neck, nails scratching gently over his scalp, thumb dragging over the top of his spine. Your other rubs soothingly up and down his back.

“But the thing is, Stevie, you don’t have to.”

He’s not a loud crier. But he is sort of panicky, breaths coming quick and short, chest heaving against your own. “I know you’ve always had to do a lot by yourself, but you can ask for help, and you don’t have to punish yourself for it, either.”

You feel him nod against your collarbone. His hands are fisting the back of your shirt. Eventually, he pulls away, but keeps his eyes closed. He tries to keep his head turned from your gaze.

“Hey. Look at me.”

He does, albeit reluctantly. Steve’s cheeks are flushed, lashes clumped together and lips parted where he tries to suck in a good deep breath.

You reach up, fingers gently sweeping away the remainder of the tears on his face. He leans into your touch, and you let him. You lean forward and press a sweet kiss to his forehead. You’ve never done that before.

Steve recognizes that you’ve never done it before, even if it’s sort of fuzzy. Sure, he’s kissed the back of your hand and you’ve reciprocated, but he’s usually the one to initiate physical affection. You’re too shy most often, even if you ache to do it.

Fuck, he wishes he were a little more coherent right now.

“Can you stand for me? It’s late, and I think you need to rest.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, sure.” Now that he’s thinking about it, getting in bed sounds so nice.

You stand first, and watch as Steve pushes off the floor, gripping the countertop on the way up to steady himself.

“Come on. The stairs are gonna be a pain.”

He reaches out for you, and you let him take your arm. He pads out to the staircase, and you watch each precarious step he takes, hoping he won’t get too woozy and trip.

By the time he finally makes it up there, he’s wrapped both arms around your waist and buried his face between your shoulder blades. You soften beneath his hold.

You walk slowly towards his bedroom, and he waddles behind you. You push the door open. “M’kay, Steve. Wanna change clothes and hop into bed?”

He pulls off of you and grabs hold of his dresser. “I’m not givin’ you a free show.”

You snort. “I’ll go get some more water and be right back.”

His grin fades. “Please be fast.” He doesn’t want you to go. He doesn’t want you to leave him.

“Steve, I’m practically The Flash.”

He laughs, pulling a pair of sweats and a t-shirt out of the drawer. Usually he’d sleep in less, but with you here he feels he should keep his modesty.

When you return, he takes the water from you, drinking it faster than he probably should. Steve feels like he’s had the shit beat out of him, and for once—he hasn’t.

You’d sat down on the edge of the bed, not noticing the way he’s staring at you. You look up when he sets the glass down. He drags both hands down his face.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

He exhales. “I want you to stay here with me, but I don’t want you to get sick. The idea of you being on the couch, which is like, miles away, is driving me insane.”

“Steve?”

“Huh?”

“Can’t I just sleep on the futon?”

His eyes move towards the other side of his room where said piece of furniture is pressed against the wall. He’d bought it when group sleepovers became a thing after all they’d dealt with. Jesus, his brain really isn’t working.

“Oh. Yeah, honey. Just don’t want you to go far.”

You lean forward and push his hair back from his forehead. You’ll need to remember to take his temperature come morning.

“I’m not going anywhere, Steve. I promise. Not until you’re all better.”

————

When Steve wakes up, you’re not there. He starts to panic, thinking maybe he’d been too much, maybe he’d shown you a side of himself he shouldn’t have, that maybe you left.

But you return to his room just as he’s about to start looking for you. There’s a thermometer in your hand.

“Morning, sleepy boy. Are you coherent enough for me to check your temperature? Or no?”

He yanks the covers off of himself, and his shirt has ridden up. You catch a sliver of tummy before he sits up fully, and you miss it the second it’s gone.

“Hit me, I can take it.”

You roll your eyes but stick the thermometer under his tongue when he opens his mouth. When you pull it away, you’re happy to see he hasn’t got a fever. He was warm last night when you kissed his forehead, but you’re thinking it was from stress or just overheating.

“No fever. What’s buggin’ you today, Stevie?”

He flops onto his back, and his shirt rides up again. You mentally slap yourself for being so enamored by it. All your brain can compute is tummy. Steve’s tummy. “My head still, and my stomach. I feel like I haven’t slept in four years.”

His words snap you out of your reverie. “Four years? That’s incredible. When’s the last time you ate something?”

Steve stares at you for a moment, though it looks as if there isn’t a single thought behind his eyes. “Yesterday…morning. I think. Yeah, I had a banana.”

You stare back, rather appalled at his statement. “Steve.”

“Hm?”

“All you’ve had to eat in the past twenty four hours is a banana?”

“Yep.”

“Jesus christ. Get your ass up and come with me.”

Steve doesn’t move. Rather he watches you move, right out the door and towards the top of the stairs. You pause and turn around, crossing your arms.

He huffs. And then he slides down the side of the bed like a child before crawling up and following you to the kitchen.

Over the course of the next few hours, you manage to get Steve to eat, shower, and go for a short walk, weather permitting and all. He’s looking astronomically better than he did last night.

Steve sits opposite you on the couch, his socked feet in your lap. “What do you think my deal is?”

You rub your hand over his calf. “I think you just had a little bug. Or maybe you let yourself get too stressed out and your body couldn’t take it.”

He blinks. “Is that…that's not a thing? Is it?”

“When’s the last time you gave yourself a fuckin’ break, Steve? When you just took a day for yourself rather than worrying about who needs to go where, or if you’ll have to cover a shift? You have to take care of yourself, or this is the kind of shit that happens.”

“Being overwhelmed about your parents, not eating, worrying about that application, all of that is fucking with you. That headache was probably a stress headache. They’re killer. I want you to be healthy and comfortable, Steve.”

You exhale, and close your eyes. When you open them, Steve has sat up, scooting towards you on your end of the couch.

He might still be tired, but he can’t believe this. He can’t believe you. No one has ever worried for him in this way.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask.

He barely even registers your words, too busy memorizing every line on your face. You look so fucking beautiful. It almost makes him angry.

“I’m thinkin’ about how bad I want to kiss you.”

Your face starts to burn. You shove his shoulder. He looks at the place where you’d pushed, quirking a brow, but grinning nonetheless.

“What?”

“Steve, you can’t say shit like that.”

“How come?”

“Because we’re friends.”

“Best friends.”

“Well yeah, but best friends don’t say that to one another.”

His grin widens. He looks more awake than he has this entire time.

“Oh, but you haven’t said it.”

You blink. “Huh?”

Steve gets his voice up that little bit higher, doing a cheap imitation of you. “‘Best friends don’t say that to one another.’ Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but that implies you want a kiss too, doesn’t it?”

You drag your hands down your face and flop back against the arm of the couch.

“So you gonna say it, or what?” He’s shifted, and you can feel him hovering over you, but you refuse to move your hands.

“Of course I’m thinking about kissing you, Steve.” You suck in a breath and open your eyes, locking with his own. “But you’ve got cooties.”

Steve rolls his eyes before he backs up and yanks on your ankle so that you’re flat against the couch.

“You did not just lecture me about self-care just to tell me I have cooties. I didn’t even have a fever.”

“I didn’t even have a fever,” you mock, lowering your voice in what is quite possibly the worst impression of him you could do.

He’s quick about it. Almost stealthy, not that you’d ever boost his ego by telling him so. But his fingers are reaching for your sides, the tips dancing over your shirt, that tiny sliver of hip showing where it’s ridden up.

Steve is practically drunk off of your laugh. It’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard, and when he goes for your neck, when you tilt your head and trap his fingers between your cheek and shoulder, he thinks he could die.

You and your laugh. The fact that you drove over at one in the fucking morning, without even thinking about it, just because you care. That you stayed the night, listened to his pitiful thoughts, took care of him…it’s too much.

Never in his life did he think he’d find someone like you. Someone who makes him feel like he matters. You’d made him realize how smart he is, how capable. That he could do things for himself and not just to please his dickhead father.

You have made him whole.

He lets up when you start breathing extra heavily, only to tickle the underside of your foot before he quits, just to piss you off. You kick him in the side.

“I think a kiss from my very favorite person might be the best form of self-care there is, honey.”

You sit up. “Wow. King Steve really never died.” He raises his hands like he might tickle you again, but you catch them before he can do any damage. “Okay, sorry!”

Before he can register it, you’ve leaned in and pressed your lips to his. When he does realize, he lets out a surprised hum, and you can feel that smartass smirk forming on his face.

When you pull away, he whines.

“All better?”

Steve falls back against the couch, pulling you with him just to get that laugh out of you again.

“I’m healed.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

#savannah’s fics #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington comfort #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington sick fic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fluff

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wosoamazing · 4 months

Text

Migraines

Summary: You start the day of slightly sick and during training your Mum gets a migraine so you leave early and some of your teammates take care of both of you.

Warning: Migraines, Minor sickness

Steph walked into training slightly late, you were perched on her hip, your head rested on her shoulder, checks a little rosier than usual, as you held onto Lobby your plush lobster.

“Oh Steph, hi” Lia said as she rounded the corner, “do you need help?” the English women, who was just behind the Swiss women, said as she took some of the bags off Steph.

“Oh, thank you, sorry it’s just that someone isn’t feeling the best I don’t think, and is very sooky and clingy, which made getting ready this morning almost impossible, and of course she has to get sick while Dean is away,” she paused for a moment “Oh God, why did I even come in, what if she gets everyone sick, I-”

“Steph,” Leah said as she put a hand on her arm “it’s okay, don’t panic, wasn’t Katie sick last week anyway?” Lia nodded “See so it’s Katie’s fault she’s sick anyway, so if anyone gets sick, its actually all on Katie”.

“Yeah, okay, what am I going to do with her? I didn’t even think about that I was just so focused on getting here” Your Mum panicked slightly.

“I’m not training today, I’ll take her, we can hang out.”

“Thank you, Leah, but are you sure, she isn’t going to give you much personal space and she will be in a mood”.

“I’m sure, I’m in need of some Y/N cuddles anyway”.

Steph turned her head to face you, “Hey chook,” you lifted you head up off her shoulder and look up at her, she brushed some hair out of your face before she continued, “I need to go train, but Leah is going to stay with you, okay? And I promise I’ll come visit whenever we get a break.” You nodded slightly before you were passed off to the tall blonde girl, “Love you,” you Mum said as she placed a kiss on your forehead.

“Ready to head out?” Lia asked Steph.

“Yeah, okay” she replied, and they headed out to the training pitch.

_____

The team was playing some fun skill-based games in training today, they were spilt into teams, your Mum was in a team with Beth, Lia and Caitlin. It was when they went over to grab drinks that Beth asked your Mum a question, “Steph, are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just that Dean has gone away, and Y/N is getting sick and-” she stumbles back slightly.

“Woah, Steph, I think you need to sit down,” Lia says as she gently pushes her friend towards the benches.

“No, I can’t, I need to go to check on Y/N and-” she is interrupted by a stabbing pain in her head, she moves her hand up towards her head, with her thumb on her temple and index finger on her forehead she sighed out.

“Shit, I think Katie got you sick,” Caitlin remarked.

“I’ll go get a medic,” Beth said as she walked off.

“Steph, I really do think you need to sit down. Please?” Lia said softly to her friend, gaining concern.

“Yeah okay,” she gave in as she slumped down in a seat, “I can’t be getting sick, I need to look after Y/N” she said before she moved her elbows to rest on her legs, leaning slightly forward, holding her head in her hands, Lia sat herself down next to her and started rubbing her back.

_____

“Hey, what’s going on?” Leah said as the two Women walked in, Lia’s arm was wrapped around Steph’s shoulder’s, the tears in Steph’s eyes indicated that this wasn’t just a visit, but something else.

“Steph just isn’t feeling too well, why are you guys in here?”

“She felt very very hot and kept whimpering in her sleep, so I brought her in here to see if they could do something, and to see if they had children’s medicine which they did, she felt better after that, but is still very tired so we decided to stay here so she could sleep”.

“’m sorry Leah,” your Mum said as she slightly collapsed onto the bed, resting her head back and closing her eyes, you woke up instantly at the sound of your Mum’s voice which made Leah smirked.

“Mama, hug,” you said while making grabby hands in her direction.

“Your Mama’s not feeling well, what if you just stay here with me?”

“No, wan Mama hug” you pouted.

“Leah, its fine just give her here” Leah got up at your Mum’s words and ever so cautiously placed you on her chest, your Mum wrapped her arms around you and a flashed weak smile at the two Women.

As you snuggled into the comfort of your Mum you said, “I love you Mama,”

“I love you too chook,” your Mama gave you a slight squeeze, Leah and Lia frowned at each other when your Mum didn't give you a kiss, she always gave you a kiss if she said I love you, just to really show she did love you, so the fact she didn’t give you one but kept her eyes closed as her head rested back against the bed wasn’t a good sign.

“Hey Steph, where are your keys? We might go and get all your stuff packed up and the car ready and take you both home.” Lia asked your Mum.

“There in my training bag, I think”.

“Okay,” Lia said as she started to stand up “No, don’t go, stay, please”.

“Like mother like daughter I see, it’s okay, you stay, I’ll go get all our stuff and get the car ready, I’ll then come back for little miss, and you can help Steph out.”

_____

It’s now later in the day and Katie and Caitlin have come over to visit, they brought some things for you and your Mum, as they visited your apartment on the way over, they also brought dinner with them. You were sitting in your portable highchair at the table, the girls sitting around you, when you saw a familiar figure appearing.

“Mama,” you call out. “Hey chook” she replies before sitting down in the chair closest to her, resting her head on her arms on the table.

“Feeling any better? I think chook is.” Leah says.

“Worse, that’s good”.

“I’ll get you some more Panadol,” Lia said as she started to stand up.

“Don’t bother Lia, it didn’t help”.

“Bath, Bath” you chime, having now finished your dinner, bath time was quite possibly your favourite part of the day.

“I’ll take her, Wally, you want to come too. I have no clue where anything is” Katie says as she picks you up out of your highchair, Lia nods and starts to walk off, Katie followed her.

_____

“Hey, what’s wrong? Like what actually hurts.” Caitlin asked as she sat herself down on a chair next to Steph and placed a hand on her back.

“My head really hurts, and every time I move everything spins,”

“Is it another migraine?”

“Wait you get migraines, since when Steph? You know you don’t have to hide these things” Leah’s voice was laced with concern; she was uneasy with the fact her friend and teammate hadn’t felt like she could share this.

“Only recently, she’s only ever had 3 and they have all been at Matildas camps, but is it?” Caitlin filled in Leah for Steph, questioning her again.

“I think it might be, but I don’t feel sick,”

“Do you have your meds?”

“No, they’re at home”.

“Are they just strong pain meds,” Caitlin nods “Do you want some of mine? I mean they will be slightly different but like,” Leah offers.

“I don’t know” your Mum’s voice breaks, and her shoulders start shaking, an indication she is crying.

“Hey, it’s okay, maybe we should give them a go,” Caitlin says as she rubs her back trying to comfort her.

“Could I? If that’s okay” “Yeah, sure I’ll just go grab you two and some water.”

“Come on, lets get you to the couch you’ll be more comfortable there,” your Mum nods her head in response and Caitlin helps her get settled on the couch. Shortly after Leah comes back in, handing two pills and a bottle of water to your Mum.

“Thank you Le,” “No problem, anything else I can do for you?”

“No, not currently, I don’t think so. But thank you for looking after both Y/N and I today”.

_____

“She’s okay, she’s just down here, see” Katie says trying to calm you down, you were having fun in your bath until you realised your Mum wasn’t there, you immediately burst into tears at the realisation and kept asking to see her.

“Mama,” you cry out, voice still shaking from your cries, your Mum bolts her body up as an automatic response.

“Fuck,” she sighs out, the sudden movement caused the pain in her head to increase tenfold and sent a wave of nausea through her.

“It’s okay, you moved too fast, just lie back down,” Caitlin says as she helps your Mum lie back down.

“Cait,” “Are you going to be sick? I’ve got a bag here, so if you are its okay.” Caitlin was very good as this by now considering all 3 migraines your Mum had experienced were when she was sharing a room with Caitlin at camp. At camp you benefited from her migraines as you got to have a sleepover with Harper in her Mum’s room.

“No, I think, I’m going to be okay now.”

“Mama,” you say softly as you sniffle.

“I’m okay bubba, I’ve just got a bit of headache, that’s making me feel bad.” Your Mum softly informs you.

“Oh,”

“But do you want a hug chook?” You nod eagerly, “Okay come here then,” Katie puts you down and you toddle over to your Mum, Caitlin then helps you up onto the couch and you climb onto your Mum’s chest, snuggling in as she wraps you in a hug. “I love you chook” she says, before kissing you on the top of your head.

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #arsenal wfc #woso imagine #awfc #awfc x reader

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cozage · 1 year

Text

Responding to “I’m late"

Characters: f reader (gn terms!) x Luffy, Sanji, Shanks, Law

Cw: some pretty major angsty emotions in this. Spoilers for Dressrosa in Law's and WCI in Sanji's. Period talk

Total word count: 1k

He walks into your alls room and finds you sitting on the bed. You’re staring at the calendar on the far wall, still as a statue.

“I’m late,” you whisper to him.

Luffy

“Late for what?” Luffy isn’t clueless, but vague statements like that go over his head.

“My period, Luffy!” Your head falls into your hands, but he’s still struggling to fully connect the dots.

He tilts his head at you. He can tell you’re in distress and that worries him. “Is that normal?”

“Obviously not,” you growl. “Or else I wouldn’t be telling you that I might be pregnant!”

His eyes widen at that statement, and finally he rushes over to where you’re sitting on the bed. He curses himself for being so oblivious.

“How late are you?” He asks. There’s a slight urgency in his voice, but he’s trying to keep the panic down.

“A week and a half!” At that response, Luffy realizes he knows nothing about these kinds of things. “Should we go talk to Chopper?” He offers. He hates being so clueless and he knows he’s not helping much.

The way you’re looking at him makes him think that was also the wrong response. “Shit, I’m sorry. I’m doing this all wrong.” He sits down next to you and puts his arm around your shoulder, leaning you in to him. “What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know!” You cried, and he rubs your arm soothingly.

“It’s okay,” he says, kissing the side of your head. “We have time to figure it out. And we will.”

Sanji

He should be over the moon. He should be ecstatic. He should be absolutely thrilled. But all he feels is dread.

He tries to hide it. He really does. But you can see it. Because that’s the first emotion you felt too.

“Sanji?” You call, trying to snap him out of the daze he’s in. But he’s frozen, just like you were.

All he can think of is how his mutated genes are now forming a new human. What if it turns out like his brothers? What if it has 20 fingers and 20 toes? What if you get sick like his mother?

“Sanji?” You call again, and this time he snaps out of his spiraling.

“What do you want to do?” He asks, and you can hear his voice tremble. He pulls out a cigarette and snaps open his lighter. Smoking is always an easy sign that he’s stressed.

“I don’t know,” you admit. He nods, and comes to sit on the bed with you.

His eyes look to your stomach, still trying to process it all. “We should go talk to Chopper. He’ll tell us if it’s something we need to worry about not. Maybe it’s just a weird month for you.”

You nod, and he takes your hand and leads you to the infirmary. He has to know, he has to prepare for the possibility. He can’t help but say a silent prayer to the universe on your way there for some kind of miracle.

Shanks

“I know,” he sighs. “You know?” You stare at him, shocked.

“Of course I know! I know your schedule!” He smiles, and his arm reaches down to take your hand. He pulls you to your feet, and then holds you close to him.

You rest your head against his chest and take an unsteady breath. “How do you feel?” He asks.

“Scared,” you say, and you can feel tears prick at your eyes. He hums at your statement, and you to stand there for a moment in silence.

He starts swaying you back at forth, as if the two of you are dancing without music.

He pulls you back and spins you around, and you laugh at his moves. He smiles when he hears your melody of joy, and you can see him relax a little bit.

He pulls you back into him, still swaying. “We’ll be at a new island in two days. How about we go to a doctor there and see if we can get some answers. We’ll figure it out together, okay?”

You nod into his chest. You’re still terrified, but at least you have him by your side.

Law

He stands there, eyes moving between you and your stomach. “Late?” He questions. But he already knows.

You ask for Midol and a heating pad at the same time every month. He gives you back massages at the same time every month. But not this month.

You just nod, still staring at the calendar. He turns on his heels and runs out the door, leaving you alone.

He walks briskly through the hallways, trying to keep his nerves down. But his mind is racing. What if his child develops Amber Lead Disease? What if he passed it on to the baby somehow. It might be out of his system, but that doesn’t mean the lasting effects are gone from the disease.

He’s also scared for you. He knows how taxing pregnancy is, and being in a submarine isn’t something you should do if you were pregnant. The pressure of the sea floor, the dangers of being a pirate, there were so many risks that came with it all.

He grabs his sword and creates a room, and quickly shambles back to you. He finds you curled up in the bed crying, and realizes his mistake.

“Im sorry, y/n-ya,” he whispers, brushing your hair to the side. “I didn’t mean to leave you without saying anything.”

You dry your eyes and look up at him, still sniffling. “I’m scared, Law.”

“Let’s find out how scared we need to be, okay?” He guides your limbs to position you to lay flat on your back, and he holds the sword over you. “Scan.”

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neo-nomatrix · 1 year

Text

Just Stay

Miguel O’hara x reader

word count: 885

synopsis: miguel is never there when you need him the most

warnings: SMUT!! not super explicit but a lot of dialogue and some descriptions

You’ve become used to waking up in an empty bed. Miguel was never next to you in the morning. Eventually you stopped reaching your hand to the left side of the bed, his side of the bed. Some part of you was always disappointed, though. There was still a small ache in your heart not being able to greet him in the morning.

“Are you going to work tomorrow?” You ask him, playing with the food on your plate.

“You know I have to,” he dismisses you, turning back to washing his plate.

You stay silent and fidget with your fork.

“You have me for tonight. Isn’t that enough?”

No, you want to respond. Of course that isn’t enough.

“Of course it is,” you smile.

On nights like these, which are most nights, Miguel doesn’t just fuck you. He makes love to you. He treats you so well you forget it’s his way of saying goodbye. He tells you he loves you and then doesn't even care enough to say good morning. Maybe he hopes you forget about it or forgive him. And you hate yourself for loving him so much to not care.

“Ay, i fucking love you, Cariño,” Miguel says so sweetly in your ear. Making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

The mix of your moans and his grunts drown out everything else. The world around you is completely blurred as he thrusts in and out of you. You could describe his kisses as sloppy but in truth they’re not. They’re given with such love and adoration for the brief moment you forget he doesn’t mean it.

“Say it, say it back,” he practically growls in your ear. His hands grip your waist, one slowly coming up to your neck squeezing.

“I-I love you,” you say reluctantly. Tears spotting in the corner of your left eye.

Your arms wrap around his neck and you grip at his broad shoulders. Hands scraping over the scars you scratched on his back the night before. He pushes his head into the crook of your neck to suck on your neck. His teeth digging into your neck and leaving marks everywhere.

He fucks you like he loves you. And you just can’t tell if he means it. Your hands pull at his hair as he finishes inside of you, pulling you in for one more kiss. Allowing his moans to melt inside of you.

Afterwards, you let him take care of you. You let him carry you to the bathroom and you let him tuck you into bed. You let him kiss you on the forehead and pull you to his chest as he gets into bed with you. You fall asleep in his arms fully knowing it won’t be like this when you wake up.

So of course, it surprises you when you wake up to Miguel’s arms around you. His breath on the back of your head and his arms squeezing around you like he’s afraid you’re going to run away while he’s not looking.

“You’re still here,” you whisper, half hoping he wasn’t awake.

“I know I'm not around a lot anymore. I’m trying, really,” he responds, loosening his grip on you.

“That doesn’t fix everything else.” You get out of bed and face him.

“I know it doesn’t. I know how much I've messed up, believe me.”

He sits up on his elbows, the duvet cover falling perfectly at his waist revealing his toned stomach. God, it is hard to be mad at that six pack.

“I hate the way you treat me, you know that? You’re never around and I fuckin hate it. When i’m alone and- and sad you’re supposed to be there to tell me it’s all gonna be okay but you’re not! And I am so sick of it. I want to be happy. I understand how important being Spiderman is but you have to learn to balance it out okay? Or else I can't do this anymore,” you exhale. Finally letting out what you’ve been wanting to say for months.

“You’re giving me an ultimatum?” He clarifies.

“Yes! I am! and you are in no position to question me,” you state.

“I get that, I do Cariño. But what I do decides the fate of the world. Of everyone, including you,” he tries to reason.

“Maybe we just shouldn’t be together then. If it’s that important. I shouldn’t be a distraction from that” you turn away from him. Unable to make eye contact with him.

You take his silence as an answer. You’re facing the wall, you’re hands on the edge of a desk. Biting your lower lip, wondering what’s going to happen next. After a few seconds you turn around to an empty room. The door just an inch open. He left.

He fucking left you. Again.

You’ve come to learn that Miguel will leave and abandon you when you need him the most. And you know that’s not what you deserve. But you also know that you love him, and that he hopefully loves you just as much.

You hate yourself for loving him. And he hates himself for hurting you. Maybe there’s a universe where the two of you are happy with each other, truly happy. No matter how much it hurts, you know you will love each other in every universe.

#marvel x reader #x reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #spiderman atsv x reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman atsv #spiderman 2099 #spiderman x you #spiderman x y/n #spiderman across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader smut #spiderman smut #spiderman x reader smut

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arieslost · 2 months

Note

Omg thank you so much for writing my Oscar x stressed reader I felt like I related so much and your writing is just too tear I loveeeee it ❤️

I was wondering if you could do maybe like on Oscar x like a sick reader or something like that I literally have the worst flue and stomach bug atm

Thank so much -❤️❤️

i’m so glad you liked it!! i hope you’re feeling better by time i post this :((

sick day | op81

you always prided yourself in going long stretches of time without getting sick, and if you did, it was only a mild cold that went away within a day or two. so, when you woke up one morning with a sore throat, you ignored it. when your nose got stuffy, you ignored it. when the uncharacteristic headache hit you, you popped some ibuprofen and called it a day.

but then you wake up the next morning and instantly know that this isn’t just a cold. the high temperature flashing back at you on the thermometer only confirms it, and unfortunately you can’t ignore this. not if you don’t want oscar to get sick too. so, when you crawl back into bed and he goes to kiss your forehead like he does every morning, you shy away from him.

“i might be sick,” you manage to croak out.

“might be?” oscar frowns. “honey, you sound like me when i first hit puberty.”

you try to glare at him, but what he said was kind of funny and your huff of laughter turns into a coughing fit that sounds nothing short of excruciating. you think you see oscar physically recoil out of the corner of your eye.

“why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?” he asks once you down a few sips of water.

“because i never get sick!” you exclaim, raising a hand to your head when it pounds courtesy of your own voice. “now i’m a hazard for myself, and you. actually, you probably shouldn’t be this close to me. go away.”

you start pushing him out of the bed with your foot, and he stifles his own laughter as he gets up. “stay there, okay? i’ll take care of you.”

“no, no, i don’t want you to get sick. just leave me here and let me sweat it out or something.” you wave him off, trying to act casual, and then you cough again. “ow.”

“i’ll make tea. does your stomach hurt?” you shake your head no in response. “some toast and eggs too, then.” you open your mouth to protest, but he cuts you off. “and you can’t stop me because the only way to do that is to physically kick me out, and you can’t touch me. otherwise i’ll get sick.”

“i hate you,” you grumble, even though you don’t think you’ve ever loved him more than you do in this moment.

“hang tight, baby. i’ll take care of you.” he blows you a kiss and hurries out of the room.

“don’t burn the toast!” you yell after him, immediately regretting it as your throat feels like it’s on fire the more you talk.

within the next ten minutes, you feel like you’ve sweat through your pajamas, and the sheets feel damp underneath your body. he comes to check on you and only needs to take one look at you to know something’s wrong.

“what is it?”

“i’m just… really hot. and everything feels icky.” you complain.

“okay, baby. can you sit up?” he asks, reaching for a hair tie on your nightstand. “where’s your comb?”

“top drawer.” you say as you push yourself up. “you better not come near me.”

“what are you gonna do about it? cough on me? come on,” he gestures for you to lean forward a little so he can brush your hair. “don’t worry about me. let me take care of you, yeah? no more arguing.”

“fine. but only because it hurts to talk.” you acquiesce, eyes falling shut at the tingles every brush of the comb through your hair sends to your scalp. “feels nice.”

“good,” you can hear the smile in your boyfriend’s voice as he gently gathers your hair up into a ponytail and carefully ties the elastic. “lemme get you some clothes, and then let’s go out to the couch, hmm?”

you want to tell him no, you don’t want to contaminate anything else, but you also don’t want to stay here in a puddle of your own sweat, so you let him help you change into a pair of his sweats and an old t-shirt, and because he’s being so sweet, you don’t pull away from him when he takes your hand and leads you out to the living room.

you situate yourself on the couch, clutching your water bottle in your hands for dear life. not necessarily because you feel like drinking it, but because it’s cold and it feels good. meanwhile, oscar is bustling around looking like he’s doing five things at once. one moment he’s moving the eggs around in the pan, the next he’s getting sheets out of the linen closet, and then he’s in the bathroom with the sink running.

“i could get used to this,” you tease, managing to not sound completely miserable as he brings over two cool cloths. one goes on your neck, and the other rests against your forehead. “ah, my fever’s already gone.”

“nice try,” oscar says, adjusting the cloth on your forehead a little. “eggs are almost done, you ready to eat?”

“are you gonna feed me?” you bat your eyelashes at him, and promptly have your second coughing fit of the morning.

“i might have to, you can barely talk without almost coughing up a lung.” he moves into the kitchen and begins making up a plate for you, followed by pouring hot water into a mug and placing the tea bag in before adding some honey and stirring it. “i didn’t burn the toast, so i expect a five star rating.”

“we’ll see about that,” you say, eagerly accepting the mug of tea when he holds it out and taking a long sip. even though it’s hot, it feels incredible as it goes down your throat. “i’m willing to give you bonus points for the tea.”

“that doesn’t count, i didn’t actually make that. c’mon, have some food.” he takes the mug from you and replaces it with the plate of toast and eggs.

you eat without complaint, but your nose being so stuffy kind of takes away from your ability to taste. all the same, you make your reactions as enthusiastic as possible. oscar’s a pretty decent cook, you both know it, but it’s been a running bit in your relationship to smack talk his skills in the kitchen.

“thanks, oz.” you say quietly when you’re done eating and you’ve drank two cups of tea. “i feel a lot better already.”

“you look sleepy,” he points out, flipping both cloths so the cooler sides can be on your skin.

“no, ‘m fine.” you disagree, even though you can feel yourself sinking back into the couch and your eyelids getting heavy.

“take a nap, honey. you’ll feel even better if you let your body rest.” he stands up to clear your dishes, and you stop him by weakly grabbing the bottom of his shirt. “what’s the matter?”

“nothing, just… want you to stay.”

“of course, baby. one second.” he’s quick to put your dishes in the sink before he’s back at your side, and you waste no time in slumping against him. “are you sure you want to cuddle? you feel pretty hot still.”

“i’m always hot, you tell me all the time.”

he sighs, knowing he won’t win this unless he wants to deal with you being sick and annoyed that he won’t do what you want. “touché, honey.”

you don’t answer, so wrapped up in the comfort oscar gives you even though you’re still hot and he’s often your personal heater. strangely enough, his body heat combats the fever heat in a way that’s so nice you don’t even really notice yourself losing consciousness. meanwhile, oscar leans back against the couch, making sure the washcloth stays put against your head and your ponytail doesn’t fall out when you shift in your sleep.

of course, he ends up getting sick a week later, but you’re quick to drop everything and take care of him, just like he did for you.

word count: 1,340

masterlist — join my tag list here!

note: i once again hate this ending but we move!! thank you for sending this in!

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever

#aries answers #anon <3 #request #op81 week #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #op81 x reader #op81 x you #op81 fluff #op81 imagine #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine

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wonderwomanfantasy · 10 months

Text

falling in together

awe this is such a concept. I'm such a sucker for Virgin!Vash

Vashx fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, virginity loss, creampie, dirty talk. Vash being jealous, if you squint.

word count: 2,200 (about)

summary: a heated makeout leads to you taking Vash's first time

You’re almost lulled to sleep before Vash comes back. The steady rocking and the quiet chug of the sand steamer were oddly soothing. Normally when traveling, you’d never bother paying for one of the expensive rooms, opting instead to ride in the commercial cheap seats and sleep sitting up, as uncomfortable as that was. But this time Vash had insisted that the two of you get a room with a bed for the night, and you weren’t complaining. The room was small, with basically just a bed in it, but it felt more cozy than cramped.

You yawned and hugged a pillow to your chest. Vash had stepped out for a minute to check on the other members of your party and you’d promised to wait up for him, but now the lure of sleep was becoming hard to resist. The bed was soft and comforting, and you’d been so exhausted lately. Your eyes fell shut.

The next thing you knew the bed was shifting as someone else sat down with you. Your eyes flew open and you sat up, dizzy and a little disoriented. You weren’t sure how long you’d been asleep. Vash smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry. I was trying hard not to wake you, so much for that huh?” he said softly. You smiled a little and pulled him close. He’d already stripped out of his day clothes and looked ready to go to bed himself. He was shirtless and in just his boxers. You were the only person Vash let see him shirtless, with all of his scars on display, it made you feel a little special.

“You should have woken me up, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you said with a yawn, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. You reached out for him, wanting to touch him, Vash flinched, then slowly wrapped his arms around you holding you close. You’d gotten used to this little routine after months of being with him. He would react badly if you touched him suddenly or out of nowhere, so you moved slowly, gave him plenty of time to see what you were doing, and stop you if he wanted.

Vash hugged you tight for a moment, and he let himself relax, Vash sighed and rested his head on your shoulder. You ran your hands over his shoulders and down his back, trying not to linger in any one spot for too long. Vash didn’t like his scars being touched, and you did your best not to linger on any of them, even if you wanted to trace them out.

“You should go back to sleep,” Vash murmured in your ear.

“Nah I want to spend some time with you. We haven’t had time to ourselves in a while,” you pushed back. It was true. Even though you spent every day at his side. Life on the run like this didn’t leave a lot of time for soft intimate moments like this.

“We see each other, every day,” Vash laughed softly under his breath “I would have thought you’d be sick of me by now, not want more time with me alone.”

You reached up cupping his face in both of your hands and looked him in his bright blue eyes “I’m never going to get sick of you. Besides, isn’t that why you insisted on a private room? So we could have some Alone time?” you asked, teasing a little bit. Vash went pink, you could feel his cheeks get hotter in your hands.

“Well I- I mean yes I love being alone with you but I mean, it was one reason,” he stammered, averting his gaze.

“What's the other reason?” you asked, now curious.

“Well, you know…there are a lot of bounty hunters on these sand steamers, a lot of men. And I mean you’re so pretty, I didn’t want anyone bothering my girl,” he said, sheepish again. A warm feeling spread throughout your chest, and you can’t stop yourself from smiling.

“You’re too cute sometimes, it makes me want to kiss you,” you admitted. Vash went pink again.

“You can- I mean only if you want!” he seemed nervous, You leaned forward and kissed him softly. Vash hesitated before kissing you back. His hands fall to your hips pulling your body flush against his. You kiss him deeper, lighting nipping at his lower lip. Vash whimpered and pushed you back. You fell down onto the bed, pulling your boyfriend down on top of you.

Vash leaned down, kissing you again, his arms braced on either side of your head. Your hands tangle themselves in Vash’s spikey blonde hair, holding him close as you kiss. You can’t help but moan a little as the kiss goes on, it really has been too long since you’d gotten the chance to do something like this. To just be close together and feel each other. Vash slips his tongue into your mouth and groans as he tastes the inside of your mouth. Involuntarily your hips bucked up to meet his, grinding lightly against the thigh, trapped between your two legs.

The kiss broke as both of you groaned at the feeling. Experimentally, you moved your hips up again, dragging yourself up and down his leg. As your hips reached the apex of your thrust. You felt something thick and hard pressing against you.

“Vash,” you breathed.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped. And dropped his head, trying to hide his blush. He was hard. After only a little kissing, you might have laughed a little bit if he wasn’t so clearly embarrassed and if you weren’t as equally worked up.

“Come on Vash it’s natural, there's nothing to be sorry about,” you soothed and pressed your mouth to his neck. He whimpered as you started kissing his throat.

“It’s still embarrassing,” he sighed,

“I don’t think so,” you reassured him, “I think it’s hot.”

“H--hot?” Vash stammered and pulled back to look at you. “You really think it’s hot when I get this needy?”

“Very,” you answer. You smile and look down at the bulge still there in his black boxers. You and Vash had never done more than kiss, you had no problem with waiting but if you were being honest, you wanted more.

“Can I touch you? You asked softly. Vash paused and seemed to really consider it, before nodding. Again, you moved slowly, resting your hands on his hips, he shuddered as you moved your hands from his sides over to the flat planes of his stomach, stopping when you felt the soft blonde hair that continued down into his boxers.

“How do you normally do this? You ask, hooking your fingers in the waistband of his shorts down a little.

“I don’t know, I h-haven’t…” he said then trailed off before admitting what he hadn’t done, this answer didn’t surprise you all that much. You had kinda guessed Vash was a virgin. You tugged his boxers all the way off. His long, slender cock sprung out, slapping his stomach. A bead of precum spilled out over the slit in his cock and dripped down his head. You wanted to reach out and lick it away,

“What about when you’re alone?” you asked, licking your lips, “when you jerk off, how do you touch yourself?” you asked, forcing your eyes up and away from his cock to look back at his face. Vash opened and closed his mouth a few times but no words came out. Then it clicked.

“Oh, you meant you haven’t jerked off- not that you’ve never had sex,” you said, Vash covered his face with his hands hiding his blush, leaving only his cock to look at.

“Well I mean I haven’t done, that, either,” he groaned.

“How have you never Jerked off?” you asked, a little impressed.

“I don’t know I would just, wash my face with cold water, or like go for a run,” Vash explained.

“That makes this really special, it’s not just your first time having sex it’s your first time having an orgasm. I better make this special,” you said.

You looked at his dick again and this time you couldn’t help yourself, you reached out and took him in your hand pumping his shaft slowly. Vash whimpered and clapped a hand over his mouth.

“Sorry, it just felt good,” he said.

“It’s alright baby, I wanna hear all the sounds you make,” you told him, moving your hand again. “How do you want to do this?” you asked. “Do you want my hand or my mouth, or are you comfortable going all the way?”

Vash thought for a moment, which was hard to do when you were tugging on his cock the entire time. Honestly, he’d be happy with just that. Your soft warm hands making him feel good. But you’d asked what he wanted, not what he’d settle for.

“I-I want to be in you,” he said weakly. You smiled and pulled away just long enough to pull off your own clothes, then you were on him again, kissing him softly, and coaxing him out of his shell. Vash sighed against your mouth and let himself melt into the kiss. You shifted your weight, pushing down on the bed so you were on top straddling his groin.

“You’re so pretty,” Vash murmured, his eyes trailing down your exposed body.

“Are you sure you want to do this? We don’t have to rush,” you assured him.

“I want this,” he said looking up at you again. “And there's no one else I’d rather do it with than you.”

Slowly, you lowered yourself down onto his cock, you paused a few times to let you both adjust to the feeling. His cock fit perfectly inside you. Just stretching your walls out enough so that you felt full, but not enough that you regretted not doing any prep work. Slowly you started rocking your hips back and forth slowly. Vash groaned and gripped down on your hips, halting your motion.

“How does it feel?” you asked, looking down at him. He was flushed, and breathing hard, his thighs trembling like it was a great excursion not to thrust up into you.

“Fuck- so good, better than you can imagine,” he gasped. “I feel like I’m going to cum already,” he whimpered throwing his head back in pleasure and his grip tightened on your hips.

“That's okay Vash, I just want you to feel good,” you assured him, Vash let go of your sides,

“Y-you can move,” he decided. “I’ll try to hold off until you cum,” he promised.

“Shh don’t worry about me, just feel good,” you told him, and started moving. With each thrust of your hips vash let out a whimper until he was crying out shamelessly in pleasure. You tried starting off slow but as he let out those moans, you couldn’t help but speed up and snap your hips up and down, fucking yourself on his dick.

Vash couldn’t help but moan and whimper and beg as you rode him. He pleaded with you to slow down, then faster- until he was babbling incoherently. You tried to keep yourself quiet, just listening to the pretty sounds that flowed from his mouth. As you rode him, you rubbed your clit, it was clear that Vash was enjoying himself, but you were feeling just as much pleasure.

“F-fuck I’m close, fuck It feels so good,” Vash cried, his hands going to your waste again, not moving your hips for you, just touching you. You noticed tears welling in the corners of his eyes.

“Are you crying?” you asked a little concerned. your thrusts falter, getting Vash’s attention.

“Please don’t stop fucking me please I’m so close, please please please-” You started moving again, finding a rhythm again helping Vash chase that high. His hips snapped up to meet yours one final time as he came, his warm cum shooting inside of you.

Instantly Vash started crying. He pulled you down on top of him and tried to stifle his sobs, all while his softening cock was still buried in you. You tried to soothe him and eventually, he calmed down.

“S-sorry,” he said and buried his face in the side of your neck. “That felt fucking amazing” he murmured against your skin. A rush went threw you and you held him tighter.

“I’m glad I made you feel good, you said.

“Did you…?” he trailed off

“No, but don’t worry about it, this was about you, okay?” Vash seems upset by the fact you didn’t cum and your words do little to soothe him.

“I’m-”

“Don’t apologize, it’s fine, I had fun,” you assured him, then you smirked a little “It felt good having your big cock inside of me,” you teased.

“R-Really? It felt… good?” he asked, doubtful,

“Incredible,” you confirmed. Vash looked at you again, his eyes full of love and his newfound lust

“So… if I wanted to do it again-?” he asked. you almost laughed, well, you did have this whole room to yourself. And a long journey ahead of you. What better way to pass the time?

#vash the stampede x reader #vash the stampede smut #vash x reader #trigun x reader #vash smut #trigun smut #vash x reader smut #fem reader

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randomshitwhore · 2 years

Note

okay so this might be far reach for a request but i’m dying here,

could you write something along the lines of ghostxreader where ghost and reader are constantly disagreeing, bickering with eachother and can’t get along but something happens where feelings are shown and they see eye to eye with eachother. maybe some jealousy from ghost or they share past trauma stories. okay love your writing bye bye <3

omg red alert, first request! and thank you, babe!

Eye to Eye [Ghost x Reader]

word count: 1.5k

pairing: ghost x reader

warnings: arguing, reader trauma dumps, angst

summary: ghost and you are constantly disagreeing, bickering with each other, and can’t get along but something happens where feelings are shown and they see eye to eye with each other.

Disclaimer: this is not a continuation of Negative Ghost(rider) but you guys like it so much i just might do a part two ;)

AN: italics are past, normal is present. thanks for the love on Negative Ghost(rider). enjoy loves <3

You and Ghost loved each other. You both knew it and so did everyone, they knew it to the point it made them sick.

That’s why it surprised everyone on base when you two began arguing to an unmeasurable degree. From small arguments in the hallway to the bigger fights in your shared room together, your voices could be heard anywhere on base.

You and Ghost had met when you were just a private. You had caught his eye the moment you and the rest of your class filed into formation, but you were just as bad, looking at him while you were supposed to be looking forward. Both of the people you knew teased you about it. You both made subtle hints you each other, whether it was just looks, slight touching of your waist to fix your posture even a light touch of your hands when passing one another in the corridors. He starts getting bolder by slipping notes, giving encouragement when it got closer to being tested:

"Kick ass today private” “Knock their dicks in the dirt” “Focus on the task and you be fine”

Signed with a single letter…

While everyone thought you would be the first to pounce, it wasn't, It was Ghost. Ghost didn’t make his move until five months after the meeting. Soup, Alejandro, and Himself caught you out with others in your squad, celebrating passing your final basic training tests, downing alcohol like it was water. The only thing you could remember from that night was the feeling of Ghost’s lips on your own after took you back to his own barrick. You loved the man even though you only knew two features: his eyes and his lips.

Now Ghost was first lieutenant and you a sergeant, you both were constantly busy and really only getting to see one another when walking down the corridors. It broke your heart but it ripped him apart. All he wanted was to hold you after a long day but by the time he was getting back, you were leaving.

“Why can’t you just understand that I dont choose to leave the moment you walk through that fucking door?” Your voice echoed through the room. You could feel your knuckles turning white with how tight they were clenched. “You dont think I understand that?! You think I dont know that better than anyone else on this fucking base?”Ghosts voice boomed against the walls. You both knew that the rest of the barrick could hear you, but you didn’t have the room in your heart to care.

“I rip myself apart…every fucking day I open that fucking door and see you standing there. Simon, it fucking kills me” You said, your voice cracking. You watched his eyes shut, and he held them there for a long time. “You dont think, I sob after the end of every day because I know the moment I get back, I know you’ll be gone?!”You said, driving your finger deeper into your chest with every word.

“Y/N…” He started but you quickly cut him off. “No, Simon you listen to me. You left for missions, ALL the time when we first got together. You dont think I felt the way you feel now? I didn’t know...”You choked out sitting down on his bed, letting your tears flood out of your eyes. “I didn’t know if you would ever come back.”

You watched his posture tense slightly. You bit your lips to keep yourself from violently sobbing. It was true. As much as you believed that he could do anything, one mission sent you into a dark state of mind. Wondering if your love would ever come back alive. And then seeing the state he came back in…it was enough to make you go mad.

You watched as an armored truck swerved into the base. No doubt in your mind it was Ghost and his squad. You ran up eagerly to the truck, excited to welcome your boys home but stopped dead in your tracks when you saw a man being rushed out of the truck: Ghost. His mask exposed the right side of his face; blood was all over him.

“Simon! Fuck, oh my god, John! John! Oh my god! What happened?! Is h-he…”You yelled, latching onto one of your and Simon's close friends; John Mactavish, callsign: Soap.

“He tripped a land mine with the UTV, shot him straight out of the goddamn car.”He said, holding you up as the tears flooded out of your eyes. “Y/N, Y/N Look at me! He is alive, they're taking him to the medical wing to patch him up. He's gonna be okay, I promise, okay?”He yell-said, holding your head to look at him. You nodded, too worked up to speak with a sob coming out.

“Here, he said to give you this,” He said, dropping something into your hands and taking off after his commanding officer. You looked down at your hands and felt your legs buckle again when you saw what it was…

His dog tags.

“The moment those fucking tags hit my hand, I thought that was fucking it; I was gonna lose you.”You said, letting your sobs just completely take over. You watched as he walked over to the bed, and stopped dead in his tracks at your next words. “Simon, I thought I was gonna lose one of the only fucking goddamn people I love in this world. you….”You bit your lips to keep yourself from screaming. “You just shrugged it off like it was fucking nothing two weeks later.”. You let your head fall into your hands, feeling your temples pulsate against the tip of your fingers.

“Y/N, look at me. Cariño, please look at me” He said, falling to his knees, taking your face in his gloved hand, and wiping your tears away. “Please…Please dont cry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”He said, brushing a piece of hair away from your eyes. He could see how much he hurt you with his incessant complaining about you not being around enough or even showing the little-ish piece of affection. He knew he had broken you down into a vulnerable point to where you wouldn’t even look at him.

You looked up at him to see him pulling off his mask, his own tears beginning to race down his own cheeks. His eyeliner smeared underneath his eyes as he wiped tears away. You felt a smile tug at the corner of your lips, finally seeing all of his beautiful features all at once;

His hair was a beautiful shade of dirty blond. His jaw was chiseled and covered with stubble. His lips were plump and a shade of red, probably from him chewing on them in his nervousness. His eyes were the most beautiful shade of brown, a warm shade.

He was beautiful.

“Simon..”You breathed out, reaching your hand toward his jaw. His hand overlapped yours as you cupped his face, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “You are my muse, Y/N. I’m sorry for hurting you.”He said, planting a kiss at the base of your wrist. “If I hurt you in any way, I just..”You started but paused when Simon’s index finger ghosted over your lips. “We’re not worrying about me. I'm fine” He said, tracing the top of your lip.

You grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him up and into you, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. “I'm sorry..”You whispered, resting your head on his shoulder. “Dont be, you had a right to be angry, I didn't. I'm the one who is sorry. I should've said it a long time ago.”He said, pulling away from you slightly to look you in the eye. He watched as a tear rolled down your cheek again, kissing it away.

He didn't want to push the boundary farther than it had already gone. He start by your cheek, then moved to your eyelids; banishing the tears that dared to fall, then to your nose, and once he was sure you were comfortable, he moved to his final destination…

Your lips.

He planted his against yours softly, and you returned the favor pulling him closer to you, wanting to close the distance between you both. He was insanely gentle when kissing you, planting one of his hands on your waist and the other beside your head as he laid you down gently on the bed. You could feel your body warm up the moment his hand met your waist.

Almost a year later and he still gave you butterflies. You pulled away from him and held his head in your hands. “Let's never argue like this again, yeah?”You said, rubbing the side of your head with your thumb. “Yeah,” He agreed, brushing the hair out of your face and giving you a smile.

“I love you mi Vida..”You whispered into his ear, pressing your lips to his forehead. “And I love you mi Cielito” He returned back, pressing his lips to yours.

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genshinluvr · 10 months

Text

Sick Days 2

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: The men are sick, and it's your duty to nurse them back to their healthy selves. Yes, the men are sick— all twenty-seven of them are ill, and you're the only one who's taking care of them. Some of them made it easier for you, but others made it complicated for you. It's a good thing you don't have emetophobia.

Note: This is highly requested by either three people or one person. Either way, I'm surprised someone wanted part two of the previous mini-fic because I felt iffy about the first part. Anyway, I am back from my vacation! That means we can finally get back to the longer fics because this upcoming week will be a villain!isekai'd!reader fic because it won the voting on Tumblr and Discord :> I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: The men are sick, and some of them are vomiting

Word Count: 3.5k

This is part two of Sick Days.

RING!

“Onikabuto booboo bear! I’m hungryyy!”

You run to the left side of the room with a tray of food in your hands. “Coming!”

RING!

“Sweetheart? Can you get me water? My throat is feeling parched.”

You run to the nearest water pitcher, grab a glass cup and fill it with water. “Give me a moment!” You holler. After filling the cup with water, you run to the right side of the room, making sure not to spill any water on the wooden floor.

RING RING!

“Snookums!!!! I’m cold! Can you get me an extra blanket and maybe cuddle with me?”

You run toward the piles of blankets on the table and search for the softest blanket you can find. The thicker and softer the blanket, the better it is. You don’t want any of them to be cold and feel uncomfortable while ill. You know how your boyfriends are—when they’re feeling unwell and sick, they need your attention around the clock. While searching through the mountain of blankets, you hear someone cough loudly.

Without looking, you announce over your shoulders, “Make sure to cough into your elbows and keep your masks on. You guys wouldn’t want to get me sick, now, do you?”

“No,” Aether mutters before sniffling under his face mask.

Zhongli sighs, rubbing his throbbing temples. “Apologies, dearest.”

“Childe, you can’t just ask [Y/N] to cuddle with you. You’ll get them sick, and if they get sick—”

Diluc was interrupted by Childe coughing loudly into his elbows, causing the redhead to roll his eyes and scoot toward the edge of his bed. Childe drops his arm to his side and narrows his eyes at Diluc before snuggling into his blanket, shivering like a chihuahua.

After what feels like forever, you finally found the perfect blanket for the poor, shivering Snezhnayan. You pull the blanket from the pile and walk to Childe’s bed. Childe’s eyes light up, and he sits on the bed, making grabby motions as you get closer to his bed. You decided to have the men stay in the infirmary at the estate instead of their bedrooms because, to you, it’d be easier to tend to each person if they were all in the same room instead of scattered around the estate.

Well, at least that’s what you assumed. Now look at you— running from each side of the room to tend to each person’s needs, from getting water, cooking, and feeding your sickly boyfriends to getting them extra pillows and blankets if they’re in need, and so much more. It’s safe to say that you’re getting your daily exercise.

“I think I found the perfect blanket for you, Childe. It’s warm and really soft,” you say proudly, tossing the blanket over his shivering body.

Childe smiles at you beneath his face mask before grabbing you by the wrist while you adjust the blanket over him. You pause and look at the ginger Harbinger curiously. For someone who’s sick, Childe still has his strength because he somehow managed to pull you onto his bed. You stumble forward, making sure not to crush him when you land on his bed. Childe wraps his muscular arms around your neck and his legs around your thighs.

“Well, hello to you too,” you mumble, head resting against the crook of Childe’s neck.

Childe doesn’t reply. Instead, he sighs with contentment before rolling over to his side, bringing you with him. You snort and run your hands through his unruly, ginger hair. You pause and squeeze your eyes shut after feeling Childe’s damp hair. Oh, dear Archons. You pull your hands from Childe’s hair and wipe your hand on your shirt. Childe doesn’t seem to notice your slight change of behavior as he continues to nuzzle against you, sighing with contentment. You hear a disgruntled sigh coming from the small infirmary bed beside Childe’s bed. You peek from Childe’s neck to see Diluc and Al Haitham glaring holes into the back of Childe’s head.

Al Haitham sniffles, crossing his arms over his chest. “Childe, you shouldn’t cuddle with [Y/N], or else you’ll get them sick too,” Al Haitham grumbles, continuing to glare at the ginger Snezhnayan.

“How are you freezing when you’re from Snezhnaya? Aren’t you used to the cold?” Venti asks from the other side of the room.

You chuckle. “Just because Childe is Snezhnayan doesn’t mean he’s used to the cold. Besides, Childe freezing due to being sick and being in a cold environment are two different things,” you say.

You pat Childe’s head and roll off the infirmary bed. Childe whines with protest, grabbing the hem of your shirt and attempting to pull you back to his bed, only for the hem of your shirt to slip through his fingers. Childe pouts and remains in bed, gazing at you with puppy dog eyes. You walk to the person closest to the medicine cart and adjust the pillow under his head.

“How are you feeling, Baizhu? You’re usually the one caring for us all and giving us medication, but today you and I switched spots,” you say, grabbing the medicine bottle with his name on the bottle and uncapping it.

Out of every sick man in the infirmary, you’re worried about Baizhu the most. Baizhu’s health is more at risk, and he’s prone to catching illnesses quickly out of the twenty-seven men. You’re grateful to have Baizhu give you some pointers on what medication to give each man in the infirmary, how much they need to take their medicine, and how often they need to take them.

Baizhu coughs into his elbow, wincing when he feels a sharp pain in his chest. “I could be worse, but with your assistance, I should be okay,” Baizhu wheezes.

You take out two pill tablets for Baizhu and hand them to the green-haired man. Baizhu takes his face mask off, throws the two pills into his mouth, and grabs the cup of water from your hands before downing the water to wash down the pills. Baizhu hands you the cup before lying on the bed. Changsheng, on the other hand, is perched on Baizhu’s lap, slowly slithering up to the green-haired man’s chest and staying there.

“How did we all get sick simultaneously? This sucks,” Kaveh sniffles from the other side of the infirmary, rubbing his red and irritated nose.

Just when Kaveh’s about to say more, his cheeks suddenly puff up, and he covers his mouth with his hands. Everyone stares at Kaveh, watching his pale, sickly skin gradually turn light green. Oh no. You recognize the expression. You rush to the trash can, grab it, and run to the other side of the infirmary to give Kaveh the trash can before he can spew bile all over the place.

Kaveh whimpers a ‘thank you’ before dry heaving into the trash bin. The others close their eyes and cover their ears while you look away, rubbing Kaveh’s back as he vomits into the trash can. After a few minutes, Kaveh wipes his mouth with the back of his hand while you take the vomit-filled trash can from his hands.

“I think you should go brush your teeth, Kaveh. Wouldn’t want to have vomit breath, now, do you?” Scaramouche asks, his nose scrunching up with disgust.

Kaveh sighs and shoots a glare toward Scaramouche. Kaveh tosses the blanket off his body before getting up from the bed and going to the nearest bathroom. Scaramouche chuckles before quickly pulling up his face mask and coughing into his elbows. You sigh and dispose of the vomit-filled trash bin.

After changing the trash bin, you walk into the room and grab a pill bottle for Xiao. You didn’t think it was possible for Archons and Adeptis to get sick, but you were wrong. You stand beside Xiao’s bed and nudge him lightly while he remains on the infirmary bed with the blanket over his head. Xiao groans and curls into a little ball.

“Xiao, I have your medicine. You should take it before you sleep,” you say, nudging the Yaksha lightly.

“Adeptis don’t need sleep,” Xiao grumbles, his voice nasally due to his stuffy nose.

You sigh, grab the edge of the blanket, and yank it off his head. Xiao grumbles and squints at you. Xiao sighs and rolls over on his back, rubbing his eyes. Poor Xiao looks miserable— the tip of his nose is red, and he is constantly sniffling. Xiao wipes his nose with the tissue you hand to him while you uncap the pill bottle to give him his medication.

You hold out the two pill tablets to Xiao. “I know you don’t need sleep, but you should get some sleep regardless. If you don’t rest, then you won’t be healthy. If you’re not healthy, then that means I can’t give you kisses,” you say.

Xiao stares at you before reluctantly grabbing the tablets from your hands, throwing them into his mouth, and swallowing the pills dry. You gaped at Xiao. Xiao points at his head while you stare at him with your mouth agape.

“What is he doing?” Cyno mutters, hugging his knees to his chest.

Kazuha wraps himself up in the blanket before falling over on the bed. “I think he’s asking for a forehead kiss from [Y/N] as a reward for taking his medicine,” Kazuha replies.

“So… are we not going to talk about how Xiao swallowed those pills without needing water?” Heizou asks, blowing his nose into the tissue.

You and Xiao continue to stare at each other in silence. You chuckle to yourself before leaning toward Xiao and kissing his forehead. Xiao closes his eyes, heat rushing to his cheeks. When you pull away, you notice Xiao’s cheeks are bright pink. You’re not sure if it’s because of his fever or if he’s blushing. Either way, Xiao looks adorable.

“Get some rest now, okay?” You stroke Xiao’s hair.

Xiao nods wordlessly before lying on his back while you tuck him into bed. Xiao closes his eyes when you lean in to kiss his forehead before leaving him to let him sleep. You walk to the next person to check on them, only to see Kaeya knocked out cold. Kaeya’s not wearing his eyepatch as it lays above his pillow. You press your hand against his forehead after brushing his bangs from his forehead. He still has a high fever, and he’s been sick for a few days— luckily, his fever isn’t nearly as bad as the first day.

Kaeya cracks his eyes open when you wipe the sweat from his forehead with a rag. Kaeya clears his throat, wincing when he feels how dry his throat is. “Oh? Is it my turn to be taken care of by nurse bunny?” Kaeya teases.

You snort. “Yes, it’s your turn to be taken care of by me, Kaeya,” you reply. “Try sitting for me, okay? You need to take your medicine.”

Kaeya sighs and sits up, grabbing the eyepatch from above the pillow and putting them on while you grab his medicine bottle. Why would the men need their own prescription if they have the same illness? Well, some are allergic to certain ingredients in the medication, and others are not. Some need stronger doses than others. People’s bodies react to medication differently, and you sure as hell do not want your boyfriends to have a negative reaction to their medication. Especially when they’re sick— some sicker than others.

You take two tablets from the pill bottle, handing them to the Cavalry Captain. Kaeya smiles at you, taking the pills from your hands before swallowing them with the help of water. After downing the medication, Kaeya places the cup on the nightstand between his and Tighnari’s bed, resting his head on your lower abdomen, and closes his eyes.

“Get some rest, alright? I only bothered you awake so you can take your medication,” you murmur, running your hands through his hair.

Kaeya nods before lying on the bed and closing his eyes. You turn to look at Tighnari, whose staring at you with a faraway look. His hair is pulled up in a half ponytail, there are dark circles underneath his eyes, and he’s shaking his head.

Tighnari clears his throat. “Before you say anything, I already took my medication,” Tighnari rasps.

You blink at him. “When? I didn’t even notice you getting up to take your medication,” you say incredulously.

“He took his medication while you were occupied with Kaveh,” Thoma interjects, snuggling up against the body pillow and closing his eyes.

You sigh. “At least it’s one less person to worry about,” you murmur, running your hands through your hair. “You should get some rest now. Since you took your medication already.”

Tighnari stares at you before pointing at his forehead. You playfully roll your eyes and lean down, kissing his forehead. Tighnari silently cheers before taking his hair out of the half ponytail and lying down. You were about to go over and check on Gorou and Albedo, but the two men were also knocked out cold.

Gorou cracks his eyes open and rubs his eye. “Can I take my medication later? ‘M tired,” Gorou mumbles, rolling over on his stomach, and slowly falls asleep.

“Sorry, Gorou, but I can’t let you skip out on your medication. There’s a time slot, remember?” You poke Gorou’s cheek lightly.

On the bed, one foot from Gorou’s bed, Albedo raises his hand. “I also took my medication earlier as well,” Albedo comments.

You stare at Albedo as the Chief Alchemist gets comfortable in his bed. Well, at least the ones that took their medication are somewhat making it easier for you. You walk to Dainsleif’s bed and sit across from him. The blond man cracks his eyes open and gazes at you with bleary eyes, slowly rubbing his eyes as he sits on the bed. You pull his medicine bottle out from the small basket and hand him the bottle. Dainsleif uncaps the bottle, takes two pill tablets from the bottle, and pops the pills into his mouth before downing the water from his water bottle.

“I didn’t know you could get sick,” you murmur, hugging your knees to your chest.

Dainsleif hands the bottle back to you. “I’m immortal, not immune to diseases and sicknesses,” Dainsleif replies, wiping the droplet of water from the corner of his lips.

You stand and hand him the eyemask. “It looks like not even Archons are immune to diseases and illnesses. I’m going to let you rest now, alright? I’m going to check on the others,” you say, stroking Dainsleif’s hair before walking to the next person.

What amazes you is how Capitano continues to wear his helmet despite being sick. When you hand him his medication, Capitano gets up from his bed and leaves the room for a brief moment before returning.

“You didn’t throw the medicine away, did you?” you ask, gazing at the tall Harbinger skeptically.

Capitano’s shoulders bounce as he sits on his bed and shakes his head. “Just because I took my medication out of sight does not mean I threw them away. You needn’t worry,” says Capitano as he pats your head before lying down.

You sigh in relief and smile at Capitano before turning over to the other three Harbingers. You pass the medicine bottles to each man and fill their cups with water from the water pitcher. You hand the cups to the men, trading the cups of water for the medicine bottles. The three men take their medication before remaining sitting on their beds.

“Is there anything else you three need before I check up on Neuvillette and Wriothesley?” you ask, putting their prescription bottles back into the tray.

Pantalone sighs, takes his glasses off, and puts them on the nightstand. “When can we start cuddling again?” asks the black-haired Harbinger.

“When you’re not sick anymore, Captain Obvious. Do you want [Y/N] to get sick all because you wanted a cuddle session?” Dottore asks, glaring at the black-haired Harbinger.

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. Even though the two men are sick, they still bicker with one another. Pierro clears his throat and motions for you to come close. You walk to Pierro and stand at the foot of his bed. You grab an extra blanket for Pierro and drape it over him. Pierro grabs your hand and pulls you toward him.

You stand beside Pierro’s bed, and he wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face into your stomach. You run your hands through his hair, untangling the small knots in his hair as Pierro rubs your back with his thumb. You press the back of your hand against his forehead, sighing in relief.

“It looks like your fever is going down faster than the others! That’s great news,” you say, patting his head.

Pierro clears his throat. “It’s all thanks to you, little one. If it weren’t for you, my fever wouldn’t have gone down,” Pierro replies.

“Hey! Stop giving the old man attention because we’re dying over here!” A nasally voice hollers from the other side of the infirmary.

Pierro reluctantly releases you as you turn to where the other two men are lying. Wriothesley looks like a mess, but you can’t blame him since the poor man has emptied his stomach four times so far. Wriothesley sniffles pitifully, hugging the trash can to his chest as he wipes the snot from his nose with the back of his hand. You hand the medication to him, only for Wriothesley to shake his head and place a hand over his stomach.

“I don’t want to take it right now, my dear. I don’t think I’ll be able to keep it down if I were to take the medication,” Wriothesley says, pressing his lips into a thin line.

Wriothesley’s face turns bright green before shoving his face into the trash bin and retching and emptying his stomach for the fifth time. You sigh, rubbing his back as he continues to spew into the almost full trash bin. While Wriothesley is retching and whimpering into the white trash can, you turn to Neuvillette.

“Did you take your medication?” You ask, shaking the prescription bottle lightly before him.

Neuvillette shakes his head. “I just woke up. Waking up to your face and the sound of your voice is something I would prefer over the sounds of Wriothesley heaving and whimpering into the trash can,” Neuvillette sighs, brushing his hair away from his face.

You run your fingers through Neuvillette’s hair, smiling at the silver-haired man. “Maybe next time when you’re not sick. After all, you and Wriothesley arrived at the estate not long ago, and look at you two… sick just like the others,” you sigh.

Poor Neuvillette and Wriothesley. The two men have moved into the estate not long ago, and yet both of them end up getting the virus that was going around the abode. The first person that caught the virus was Kaveh, and it passed around to everyone in the abode except for little ole’ you. This was strange because you get sick easily— you don’t have a weak immune system per se, but you have lived with children in the past back in your world, and those children would get you sick whenever they were sick.

“Here’s your medicine. Get some rest after, alright? I know you have a headache right now,” you murmur, handing Neuvillette his medication.

Neuvillette grabs the medication from your hands, and you turn to Wriothesley, who places the trash bin beside his bed and gazes at you with bleary eyes. You prop one hand on your hip, looking at Wriothesley curiously.

“Are you done throwing up?” You ask.

Wriothesley nods.

You tap your fingers on your hips. “Do you think you can take your medications now? If not, I can give them to you later when you don’t feel like you have to throw up again,” you suggest.

Wriothesley shakes his head wordlessly and extends his hand, the palm of his hand facing up as he waits for you to hand the pill tablets to him. You sigh and place the two pill tablets on the palm of his hands, and watch the black-haired man shove the pills into his mouth before chugging the water.

“Wriothesley, please don’t chug the water. You might make yourself throw up again if you do that,” you chide.

Wriothesley places the cup back on the nightstand between his and Neuvillette’s bed, wiping the water droplets from his lips with the back of his hand. You pat his head while he smiles, pressing his head against your stomach. After a few minutes of petting Wriothesley’s hair, you grab the trash can beside Wriothesley’s bed and walk out of the room to empty the trash can, only to stop in your tracks when you hear someone retch and a collective groan.

“[Y/N]! You have more trash cans to empty!”

You sigh, shoulders slumping. Whatever this virus is, you sure hope it stops floating around because you don’t know how much longer you can deal with having to change out trash bags. Especially when you’re not a huge fan of vomiting. It’s a good thing you don’t have emetophobia— that would render you useless if you had it. As long as you’re not the one that’s vomiting, you’re okay with cleaning up after someone else’s vomit since it’s not your first rodeo.

Note: Not gonna lie, as I got closer to completing this mini-fic, I started getting nauseous out of nowhere. But I am okay-ish now! The Gatorade kind of helped me feel better. But yes, this upcoming week is the somewhat lengthier fic of villain!isekai'd!reader since it did win the Tumblr and Discord polls. Speaking of Discord, for those who want to join my Discord server, here is the temporary link to [Zhongli's Abode]. Please make sure to read the server rules to save yourself from getting in trouble (if you like the server, you can stay, chat, and lurk. If not, you can leave if you don't vibe with it ^^). I didn't post a new link last week due to being away on vacation, and I didn't want my mods to feel overwhelmed with new members while I was away. Anyway, to all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for my Isekai'd!Reader one-shot series and my overall taglist: @chirikoheina, @yoru-trash, @kaoyamamegami, @deartoru, @luminarymoonlight, @toobytub, @ins4nebish, @bokuto-kinnie, @jadedist, @mompt2, @chalksdreams, @thelost-in-time, @ventisweetheart, @hispasian-otaku, @juuuuuj101010, @samarill, @testsubject0012, @irisxiel, @kazuhaprnt, @lunarapple, @emilymikado, @mabie, @vinnie-w, @n8mareee, @heyimkay, @eliciana, @blesstosuisen, @goldeneclipsedragon, @jjvr4yxc, @sovermike-21-blog, @vox34, @skyyyyackerman, @undecidingfate, @nightlysunn, @faeryminnyx, @simpcreator, @lucifarts-boxers, @thelovebuggs, @urlocalheizousimp, @sunlightstarr (Accounts that I was unable to tag have been removed. Those who don't want to be tagged in certain stories are not tagged in this particular post. Remember to check your settings to see if you're allowing people to mention you/tag you in posts or not)

Read more of my works on my Masterlist / Masterlist 2 | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

577 notes · View notes

webslingingslasher · 1 year

Note

hi so uh could I request a really short (like less than 1000 words) blurb for Peter of him just comforting reader with physical affection cause she's having a depressive episode please (I really need a hug omfg)

i’m at work but i really think you needed this, call it a gut feeling.

peter’s love language is physical touch to the max.

he needs a hand on you at all times, riding in the car? hand on your thigh, if you’re sitting behind him, his hand is wrapped around your ankle. watching a movie? you’ll be tucked into his side, or he’s resting his head on your chest, at the very least your legs are tugged over his lap so he has something to run his hands over. out at dinner? he’s holding your hand across the table almost the entire time, unfortunately you make him give it back when the food arrives. eating out with friends? his favorite, because then he has a reason to sit in the booth next to you and there’s nowhere that’s off limits. hands on your thighs, knees, hands, elbow, neck, face, anywhere he deemed necessary for his touch.

most times you push him off, and he doesn’t take it offensively because even he can admit when he’s being a little too much. there’s only so much you can take of being trapped under his arm in new york summer weather before you shake him off and tell him not to touch you for ten minutes because you’re about to scream. or when you’re out at dinner with friends because he really does have wondering hands, you can see when it’s getting a little much so you have to take his hand and rest it on the table with a pat or grip it in yours so tightly it’s sent into rigor mortis.

there is one time you don’t push him away, when he doesn’t think it’s possible slump into him further, the one time he truly can’t tell where you start and he stops.

he just wishes you weren’t so sad when you needed him like that.

peter thinks you fell asleep on him and he doesn’t mind one bit, sometime after finding you buried under your covers. which he knows is your hiding spot when things just get a little too rough. you’re good most times, but every once in a while you forget how special you are, and he knows when you don’t respond to his texts or snapchats or don’t show up to school.

you didn’t text him much last night and he figured you were tired or sleeping early, then you weren’t at school this morning and he would’ve thought you were feeling sick until it hit ten thirty and you haven’t responded to anything in over twelve hours. his suspicions were confirmed, you were sick, but not with a bug or virus.

peter did the only thing he could think to do, not that you’d believe him in that moment anyways, and sends you three words.

I love you.

if you were to only look at one message from him he wants it to be that, so he doesn’t send anything else for the rest of the school day.

he went straight to your place and let himself in, heading for your door where he knows you’ll be collapsed in bed and have to fight his own upset that you haven’t ate or drank water today because it’s the wrong thing at the wrong time.

sometimes he doesn’t like being right, seeing you swallowed in blankets, facing the wall with your eyes shut, he sees tear marks and doesn’t have to ask, he stopped asking months ago, it was always the same answer.

“why are you crying, hm?” he’d brush your hair away so it doesn’t stick.

and you’d sniffle and blink more tears to fall and whine, “i don’t know, it just has nowhere to go.”

“what has nowhere to go?”

you’d cry harder, “the sadness.”

sometimes there was no good reason to be so sad and it makes it worse, like you needed to justify how sad you felt.

peter took in the darkness, you pinned blankets over your windows, it was as black as you felt. he doesn’t even think you’re sleeping, just… dreading your existence.

in case you don’t know he’s in here he speaks soft and slow so he doesn’t scare you, also because cheerful doesn’t really fit the mood.

“hey, trouble. feelin’ okay?”

he knows you’re not okay, okay. but it’s not about being fine, it’s about checking in with each other because you’d swore you’d tell him if it ever wasn’t okay.

peter can’t hear you, he puts his knees on the bed and shuffles towards your back. “what’s that, mumbles?”

your fingers claw at the blanket around your mouth, “‘m okay.”

peter is the fixer, he fixes everything, you even call him your little engineer. but this is one thing he can’t and never will be able to fix but he’ll gladly hold your hand and cheer you on from the side while you fix yourself.

“wanna hug?”

and you don’t know why these cuddles, these touches, these actions of love that feel the most warming and comforting to you. he always loves you, that’s his thing, but when it’s times like these when you’re so emotionally raw and vulnerable you want to curl up and hide, peter embreases it and doesn’t tell you to hide it, it’s human and he’s happy you trust him enough to see that side and he’ll never take it for granted.

you nod, peter scoots enough to pull at your hip and pull you on your back, he’s looking down at you and doesn’t take offense when you look away.

“wanna be on top?”

sometimes you wanted peter to crush you with his weight, he used to hold back because he didn’t want to actually hurt you until one night you called him out, “peter, please I just need to feel… i don’t know.” so he let himself settle all the way down on your chest and heard how your breath caught, you gripped at his shoulder when he tried to move back up, you gasped it but you needed it, needed it for a few minutes.

“thank you, just… please stay here.”

that’s when it was really bad, you needed him to drown out the whole world, the thoughts, the insults, anything that wasn’t screaming at your brain for breath, and when he moves that first real gulp of air feels like heaven and even if it’s for one second you have two things to be grateful for.

most times, you crawled high into his lap and looped your arms around him so tight he felt like he couldn’t breathe, your face tucked into the crook of his neck, sometimes you’d dot kisses, sometimes you’d cry, and sometimes he feels nothing but eyelashes every few minutes as you blink and shut them, each attempt of opening them like, ‘you ready yet? no? alright.’

or nights like tonight, when you curl around him and doze off because you had a night where instead of sleeping for fourteen hours you stayed up blinking at the wall.

and because if you’d learned anything about his love language, he wouldn’t let go until you asked.

#peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker blurb #peter parker fluff #tasm!peter one shot #tasm!peter fluff #my writing

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justjams2003 · 2 years

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Kal’s sixth sense

A/N: Hello everyone! I have an extreme need to write like very short Henry drabbles about things like, how he talks abt you in interviews, those vogue 100 questions, getting ready for his premieres, how he would react to you (an influancer) doing those tiktok trends and other. Would you guys be interested??? Also this is inspired by a tiktok I saw of how the poster’s dog realised they were pregnant much sooner than they did.

Pairing: Husband!Henry Cavill x Pregnant!Wife!Reader

Warnings: None, it’s just cute fluff

Summary: Henry notices that Kal has been acting weird lately. Following you around everywhere. When those two pink lines shows up on the pregnancy test, things makes sense.

Word count: 615

Unedited

Henry’s brow raises as he watches you walking into the bathroom. Usually he stays in bed with Henry, cuddling. Now, however, he plops down in front of the closed door. How strange? “Kal,” he calls to his pup. The dog, lifts his head, looking at Henry, the door, then back at Henry. Usually he would come running, but he just lays his head back down.

He’s reading a book, on the couch. Though something is off. The familiar heat of Kal’s body by his legs is nowhere to be found. He looks around, he not somewhere else in the living room. Henry sits up, looking into the kitchen. He sees you, deeply focused on cooking. Yet, there Kal sits, right by your feet. Again Henry calls for his pup and he does the same as before.

Now Henry is noticing it a lot more. Kal seems upset leaving the house if you’re not with. When doing interviews he’d sit on your side. When if public he’s become visibly anxious if anyone came too close to you for his liking. Not to mention, you’ve been sick.

Throwing up every morning and a complete loss of appetite. He’s seen movies and read articles of dogs sensing diseases like cancer before the doctors do. Oh God, he hopes and prays to who ever is listening that it’s not cancer. Now, he’s spiraling.

Kal notices, climbing into his lap as the two boys are sitting in front of the bathroom door. “Are you okay?” He calls out, knocking slightly on the door. You’d run in the bathroom, throwing up, though those noises have stopped long ago and he’s getting worried.

Luckily, his worries soon end as the door flies open. Looking down, you see Henry looks disheveled. His curls stand in all directions from his bed-head. His eyes tired but still frantic. Though, you’re sure you don’t look much better. Henry’s brows furrow.

You seem to have been and are crying. With a little pink stick in your hand. “What’s wrong, my dear?” he asks, immediately shooting up to hold you. Looking down at whatever you’re holding. Though, his believes his eyes are deceiving him. That can’t possible be what he thinks it is and it can’t possibly say what he thinks it does.

You shake your head no, “Nothing is wrong,” you smile up. Your big eyes glimmering with tears. Yet, as you smile, Henry can see they’re tears of joy. “Are you...?” He’s scared to say it. In-case this is a dream. As if speaking the word will curse it not to be real.

A sob escapes your lips as you nod. “Yes, yes, I’m pregnant!” His ears seam to ring with joy. He’s sure he yelled with excitement, picking you up and spinning you around, but he’ s also sure he blacked out from pure bliss. As the moment dies down, a realisation hits Henry.

He looks down at his Akita, “I guess you knew, huh, buddy?” He asks, petting him between the ears. Kal perks up, as if he is happy at the final realisation. “What do you mean?” You ask, furrowing your brows as you look between them.

“Haven’t you noticed?” He questions, as if its been the most obvious thing in the world. You shake your head, biting your lip. “He’s been following you around. Protecting you and this little muffin.” He explains, his big hand on your still flat belly.

Your cheeks flare with a whirl of emotion. Pride and amazemnt one of them. You bend down, Kal of course, already by your side. “You’re gonna be an amazing big brother,” you coo, filled with love from your, now, family of four.

#henry cavill #Henry Cavill fandom #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill drabble #henry cavill dad #henry cavill as a dad #henry cavill x pregnant reader #dad henry cavill #henry cavill x mom reader

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janeyseymour · 5 months

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hiii!! i hope you’re doing well. i was hoping to request a melissa x reader. where the reader is really struggling with mental health and her gf (melissa) is starting to notice it.

one day during work (they school) the reader gets into an argument with one of the other teachers and the teacher says some rude stuff to her which hurts her a lot. the reader leaves the school for the day w/o telling melissa.

(hurt, comfort, some fluff)

Hi! I'm so behind on writing because of my school situation at the moment... but I hope this is what you were looking for! As always, not edited in the slightest

Good Days, Bad Days

wc: ~2.6k

You’ve been struggling lately. You hate to admit it to even just yourself, much less anyone else. But you are struggling. You don’t really know why.

Okay. You do know why.

You’re taking on too much- school is overwhelming between the kids and the extra tasks you’ve decided to take on (why you thought being part of the curriculum development committee is beyond you), things are getting more serious with your girlfriend, and you have to admit you aren’t doing a great job of balancing everything. You’re trying your best, but it’s getting really hard. Your ideas are shot done more and more. You feel like you barely see Melissa, and when you do, the two of you are arguing about God even knows what. It always ends up with the two of you in bed holding each other and promising you aren’t upset with each other and that you love each other, but it’s becoming a sick cycle- and not a cycle the two of you necessarily want to be in.

And the fiery redhead is starting to notice the way that your mental health has been declining. She’s been watching it steadily for the last month or so. The way you haven’t been eating as much, the way you can barely keep your eyes open at times, how you fall asleep almost every time you’re sitting still. You’re constantly irritable, and you burst into tears at least once a day.

“My love,” she whispers as she pulls you closer.

You sob into her shoulder. “I just- I don’t know what I’m doing wrong!” you blubber.

“You aren’t doing anything wrong, honey,” she tries to reassure you, although her words fall upon mostly deaf ears. Your tears are uncontrollable, and at this point, you’ve lost yourself. You don’t even know why you’re crying this time.

“C’mon, amore,” she rocks you gently. “Let’s get you up to bed. You need some rest.”

“I- I can’t!” you whine. “I have to come up with more ideas for the curriculum meeting tomorrow, and I have to grade the kids’ social studies projects, and I- I-” You struggle to catch your breath as you hiccup out a sob.

She takes a few deep breaths, hoping you’ll follow her motions. You do, just barely. She smiles softly and praises you. “Good. Keep breathing, honey. You’re okay,” she mumbles against your head.

After a bit of calming yourself down, you reach for your students’ social studies projects and start to grade them again. Melissa settles on the barstool next to you and grabs her own stack. She helps you grade them, and then the two of you head to bed. She holds you until she falls asleep, and then she reaches for her laptop that’s on the nightstand. She finds a few new ideas for curriculum that might help to benefit the students, emails them to you, and curls up around you again.

You wake up the next morning dreading the day. You have your meeting during your prep, meaning you won’t have time to prep the materials you need to for the science experiment today and will instead be setting everything up during your lunch. You have recess duty today, so you really won’t be able to settle at all today.

“Y/N,” Melissa shakes you awake gently. She’s already ready for school, makeup and all. “It’s time to wake up, hon.”

You whine as you roll over. “Five more minutes, babe.”

“I already let you sleep twenty extra minutes,” she tells you gently. “You gotta get up. You can eat breakfast in the car, but you’re eating breakfast today.”

You sigh and roll out of bed. You get yourself ready for the day before stomping off towards the vehicle. Melissa brings you a bowl of breakfast casserole and gets into the driver’s seat. You only take a few bites before you start to feel nauseous and close your eyes for the rest of the drive. Your girlfriend rests her hand on your thigh as she drives, and she gives it a gentle squeeze once she parks the car.

“We’re here, amore,” she sighs quietly. “I know you’ve been stressed about your meeting today, so I sent you a few curriculum ideas last night. Why don’t you look over them and finish up your breakfast?”

“You did that for me?” You tear up at her thoughtfulness.

“I did,” she smiles at you softly. “But you don’t have time to cry about it right now, hon. You have to prep, and finish breakfast.”

You groan, but you know she’s right. You grab your bags, take the bowl, and head into the school. You settle at your seat in the teachers lounge and start prepping for your meeting at 11, forgetting about your breakfast. The only reason you remember is because Melissa is sitting next to you holding the fork up to your mouth. You blush and take the bite gratefully.

Before you know it, everyone else has filed in, Jacob is playing the news all too loudly, and you pack up your things to work in your classroom. You give the redhead a kiss to the cheek before heading out.

You don’t expect her to follow- you know how much she loves watching Channel 6. But she does with a confused look on her face.

“You okay, hon?” she asks you softly as she pulls up a chair next to your desk.

“Just can’t get distracted today,” you sigh. She doesn’t know how much is riding on this one meeting.

“You can usually work with the news on?” she furrows her brows and purses her lips.

“I- It was just a little overstimulating today, okay?” you tell her, hoping this smooths everything over. “Go watch the news with them. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” she sucks a breath in. Melissa gives you a soft kiss before seeing herself out. She knows when to leave you be at this point, and you clearly need to be alone right now.

The kids come in far before you’re ready for them. But still, you stand from your desk and meet most of them at the door with a bright smile and a hug if they want one. But Melissa can see the tension in your shoulders and your body language.

Your students are genuinely pretty well behaved today. They’re quiet, they get their independent work done, and you continue to prep for your meeting. You silently thank God for that. You don’t know what you would’ve done if you had to handle behaviors on top of your meeting today.

They line up, head down to music, and you head into one of the meeting rooms in the office for curriculum development. The lights are too bright. You can hear them flickering. You don’t feel okay in your own body right now- your clothes are itchy, and you can’t stand the way that the chair feels against you.

None of your ideas are received well, and you struggle to hold back tears at this point. Shaina, One of the older teachers upstairs is just digging into every little bit of your being now. You don’t even know what to do- you aren’t even talking about curriculum anymore.

“Maybe, and hear me out guys,” the woman addresses the group. “Instead of focusing so much on developing a new curriculum, when this one works so well for most of us already, we address the actual issue in the room: the shit teachers we have here.” She looks directly at you. You can feel your cheeks flush red and the tears spring to your eyes.

“Hey,” one of the kinder teachers sighs.

“No, no!” Shaina argues. “I’m being serious! We can get rid of the new teachers who think they know everything and can’t teach for the life of them with better ones!”

“I- I think I teach well,” you mumble. “My kids love my lessons that I do with them.”

“Oh please,” the older teacher laughs in your face. “Your kids only pretend so they don’t hurt your pathetic little feelings, Miss Sensitive.”

“I-If they didn’t like my lessons, I think I would know,” you mutter.

One of the other teachers tries to get back to the focus of this meeting, but Shaina just won’t quit.

“The only reason they kept your lazy, pathetic ass around here is because of that stupid, bitchy girlfriend of yours,” she comments. “No one wants to fuck with Schemmenti, and certainly no one wants to fuck with you. Hm… maybe that’s why the two of you found each-”

You don’t even bother gathering your notes or laptop. You just head out of the meeting. You can’t stop the red, hot tears that begin to pour over as you run down to your classroom to grab your purse. You can’t be here right now. You just can’t.

You head back into the office, and you can hear the committee still in the conference room now going after Shaina for upsetting you, but you don’t care. You head straight into Ava’s office.

“Ava, I- I need to go home.”

“I don’t have time for-” the principal sighs as she doesn’t even bother to look up from her phone.

“Ava,” you say emphatically. “Please.”

Only then does she look up at you, and she takes in your appearance. She has a bit of a soft spot for you. “Oh, Y/N, girl, what happened?”

“It- it doesn’t matter. I just can’t be here right now, please. I need a sub right now, I’ll even take Mr. J.”

“Should I pull Melissa for you?” she asks, clearly concerned.

“N-no. She was excited to teach her math lesson with them today, so just… she’ll figure it out,” you stutter out. “I’ll just take the bus home. I just- fuck. I need to go home.”

The principal nods and starts making the announcement over the intercom that the janitor needs to report to her office immediately. She gives you a sad nod, and you head out.

Melissa, not knowing that you’ve gone home, heads into the staff room for lunch. She pulls your lunch out and sets it at your spot for you. But you never show. You’re already about half a bottle deep in wine and drowning your sorrows. When you don’t show after fifteen minutes, she sighs and heads down to your room, fully expecting to find you asleep at your desk. But your bag is gone, your laptop isn’t there, and your mug of coffee is still sitting on your desk half finished. She raises a brow as she heads back down to the teachers lunch room.

“Anyone seen Y/N?” the second grade teacher asks.

“Not since this morning,” Barbara says. “Was she not in her room?”

“No. Her bags are gone too, and her laptop isn’t there?”

“Maybe check the conference room?”

“She does like to work in there sometimes,” Melissa mulls it over as she leaves again. She makes her way down the hall and towards the main office. She finds your laptop, but you’re still nowhere to be found.

“Oi,” she grumbles. “Woman’s lost her damned mind.”

Ava appears behind her. “Your girl went home.”

“She what? She couldn’t have. I drove us in today?”

“She said something about taking the bus,” Ava shrugs. “I ain’t never seen that girl cry the way she was crying. Must’ve finally snapped.”

“Who has her kids?” your girlfriend asks, and she’s immediately fumbling for her phone to call you.

“Mr. Johnson,” the principal shrugs. “She said she would even take him, and I sure as hell don’t got the time to wrangle a bunch of third graders today.”

You see your phone light up with Melissa’s name and the sweet picture you have of the two of you. You send it to voicemail.

“She’s not picking up,” Melissa grumbles.

“She looked pretty beat, like she could fall asleep standing up,” Ava shrugs.

“She did that the other night,” your girlfriend sighs. “Poor thing.”

“Well, what’re you waiting for? Go save your princess,” the principal chuckles.

“I don’t got no one to cover my class,” she points out.

“I got it,” Ava tells her. “Anything for Y/N.”

The redhead, while shocked, doesn’t have to be told twice. She heads into the teachers lounge to grab the rest of her lunch and your lunch.

“I’m heading home for the day,” Melissa tells the usual crew. When they give her a questioning look, she just shrugs and continues to pack up your things. It’s none of their business why she’s leaving early.

She rolls through most of the stop signs on the drive home, and only once does she run through a red light where she sure a cop isn’t lingering out of sight.

When she pulls in, she notices that all of the lights in the house are off, and your car is still sitting right where you left it last night.

“Amore?” she calls softly as she kicks off her shoes at the front door. She enters the living room, and there you are, eyes rimmed red. Your curled up under your favorite blanket, wearing one of her Flyers sweatshirts, with a glass of wine and a carton of ice cream and an empty Wawa hoagie wrapper at your side. Your comfort movie is playing, and you sigh deeply.

“Why are you home?”

“Because when my girlfriend disappears midday and Ava tells me she has me covered, I come home,” Melissa tells you gently as she drops her bags on the bench. She hands you your lunch and settles in next to you. “You wanna tell me what happened?”

You explain what happens, but only after your girlfriend promises you she won’t murder Shaina for upsetting you. When your finished, she’s fuming.

“Babe, you promised you wouldn’t-”

“Yeah,” she grits out. “I lied. That’s worse than what I thought you were going to say.”

“I-it’s not a big deal,” you sigh, trying to smooth it all over. “Today was just a lot for me in general. I was going to get set off no matter what.”

“No, I’ll show her who the shit teacher is… in a non-threatening way,” she adds on.

“Mel, it just isn’t worth it,” you tell her. “I’ll get over myself, and the other teachers were trying to get her to back off. I’m sure someone will go to Ava about it, but for now… I just want to wallow in my self-loathing and self-pity, okay? I’ll be fine.”

“Can I do anything to help?” she asks softly as she wraps an arm around you and tugs you in. Your head falls on her shoulder, and you sigh.

“Can we have a day in? Just sit with me and let me wallow?” you ask quietly. “I just need today to be sad, and tomorrow I’ll be okay.”

“Let me change, and then I’ll do whatever you need me to do,” she promises you. With a kiss to your head, you let her up. She’s back quickly in a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt- leather pants now gone. Her hair is tied up in a messy ponytail, and you can’t help the small smile that appears on your face.

“What, hun?”

“Just… you,” you tell Melissa as you reach for her. She settles in next to you.

“What about me?”

“I can’t believe I got you by my side,” you mumble as you curl into her side. “Having you makes everything so much better.”

“I’m always here for you, my love.” The redhead kisses your head again as she takes your hand in hers. “Through the good days, through the bad days… all of it.”

#abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti

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lsd-astronaut · 3 months

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Hello!! I hope you don’t mind me asking but could you do a fluffy Crowley x Demon!reader x Aziraphale fic (or headcanons)??

Maybe something like what it’s like all being in a relationship together?

(Also if it’s not too much to ask can the reader use a cane to walk around? Maybe because of something relating to when they fell and became a demon? If not that’s okay!!!)

First of all, I love you and I could kiss you in the mouth right now. I’VE BEEN SAYING FOR AGES THAT CROWLEY WOULD HAVE CHRONIC PAIN BC OF THE FUCKING FALL. I refuse to believe for one moment that you can fall all the way from Heaven, land on the ground and be all “hey guys i’m fine!”

Aziraphale x Demon!Reader x Crowley

Please like and reblog<3

Warnings: chronic pain, but nothing else, this is just good old fluff

• You were an archangel along with Crowley, with the same obligations in making the cosmos✨ so you both met Aziraphale at the same time

• When Azi told you both that the project was destined to close in a few thousand years, you were the one that proposed to fill a complain to God (and crowley seconded you)

• Cue a war and a Fall later, Crowley and you are in Hell, but in different departments so you don’t see each other much

• In fact, you didn’t see Azi and Crowley for the first time since the Fall until the crucifixion of Jesus

• You stood beside them in silent reverence to this poor soul lost for all of humanity

• “What sort of mother would wish this fate upon her own kin?” Crowley and Azi turned to you with confused expressions (although Crowley gained a lot of respect for that comment hehe)

• After some idle conversation, and Crowley convincing Aziraphale not to just smite you right there and then, you three decide to traverse the world

• Centuries pass, and Crowley and you stay around humans (you love their way of living, and he likes children so everyone wins)

• You like to read everything you can get your hands on, to Crowley’s chagrin

• “Now I have two bookworms. What have I done to deserve this?”

• It’s circa the year 1000, in the new continent that these curious people called Vikings have discovered, when Crowley and you decide to experiment a human thing that you had wanted to try for a long time

• Your first kiss is messy, and there are more teeth than anything else; besides Crowley insists it feels slimey

• However, she can’t help but to accept he got a bit aroused by it

• Practice makes better, as they say, and so you do

• Although you spend the most time with Crowley, your relationship with Aziraphale also evolves throughout the years

• The “we have a mutual but I still don’t like you” to “maybe I do care about you” pipeline, if you want

• You take him to all kind of food places and bookstores, and he warms up to you a lot

• Introducing him to classical music was your proudest moment, and also the pettiest as Crowley had crossed you a bit beforehand

• The first time you kiss Aziraphale (or rather, he does), is one time you both were a bit tipsy during a masquerade ball in Paris in the 18th century

• He is a bit unexperienced but he gets the hang out of it really quick

• The three of you “confess” to each other in 1941, after the magic show fiasco

• Crowley looks nonchalant but you can see behind his eyes, he was worried sick he would be separated from both of you

• You make sure to give him extra cuddles that night

• Fast forward to 2008 and you work in Warlock’s house along with Nanny Ashtoreth and Brother Francis, you being Warlock’s governess (like this is the fucking 1800s or smth lmao)

• It is at this time that the two of them notice you limping a bit every day after all chores have been done

• You insist that it is nothing and that you are perfectly capable of walking

• However, Ashtoreth happens to see you during one of your bad flares

• She immediately helps you to sit down on the bed, and looks at you expecting an explanation

• Her no-nonsense glare deters you from making up an excuse so you tell her the whole truth

• When you had fallen, you hadn’t landed correctly and had broken your legs on impact

• Miracles hadn’t done the full job and so you had been forced to endure the pain of the bones repairing themselves not quite right

• You had learned to mask the pain after centuries of practice but some days were just worse than others

• The next day, Ashtoreth gifts you a cane adorned with a snake head with little wings

• You proudly use it every day forward

• After the Second Coming, the three of you go to live in South Downs, finally able to be yourselves together

• There is still so much stuff to learn about everything, but you’re immortal and you are not alone, so why the hurry?

• As the sun sets on the horizon, you lean your head on Aziraphale’s shoulder as he reads one of Jane Austen’s books, and Crowley’s head is on your lap, already snoring softly

• You will be okay

I just wanted to say, I’m sorry if this is not what you asked for exactly as it is my first time writing for these two and I haven’t written either in two years so I feel I’m very rusty. I forgot ab the chronic pain until almost at the end, and I talk more about the history of you relationship than the actual relationship in itself lmao

Still, I hope you like it!

#good omens #good omens x reader #good omens fanfiction #good omens headcanons #aziraphale #crowley #aziraphale x reader #crowley x reader #aziraphale x reader x crowley #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x reader x aziraphale

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andvys · 1 year

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We'll burn the sky | part four

Warnings: 18+, some angst, brief mention of reader being groped after a concert, smut....... cheating (not on reader)

Pairings: mentions of Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham, Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Rockstar!fem!reader

Summary: Corroded Coffin finally goes on tour and you and reader grow even closer.

Author's note: So this took a different turn..... also shoutout to @corrodedcorpses , thank you so much for the idea with the tour diary, it gave me so much inspiration and motivation to write this chapter!

Series masterlist

*not proofread

The afterparty went on until the early morning hours. You threw your first big concert and decided to celebrate the success of it with a huge party at the house Eddie shares with his friends. You mostly spend your time with Eddie, sitting on one of the lounge chairs in his backyard with a joint and a drink in your hand.

Instead of spending the night with a groupie like Gareth, he decided to watch the stars with you and fantasize about your rockstar life. You were a little confused as to why he would rather spend time with you than with one of the hot girls that tried to flirt with him– to no avail, Eddie wasn’t interested and you can’t help but feel relieved about it, the thought of him with someone else leaves you with the sick feeling of jealousy, a feeling that you came to hate it ever since you met him.

Eddie took you to his room that night, he gave you one of his shirts to sleep in and helped you take off your makeup– it was almost domestic, it was sweet and left you blushing like a schoolgirl. You couldn’t help but stare at his lips as he gently touched your face and made sure that no trace of foundation or eyeliner was left on your skin.

You didn’t sleep in his arms that night but he held your hand when sleep took over you. You were gone quickly. Your eyes fluttered close the moment he started humming your favorite song to you as his thumb rubbed circles into your skin.

You didn’t know that he stayed up the whole time, using the opportunity to admire you. You didn’t know that Eddie was fighting a battle with himself.

The next morning you woke up to an empty bed but you could hear his voice downstairs. It was hushed, you could barely make out his words, though the sound of the distress in his voice was pretty clear.

You sit up and look around his messy room, trying to find your clothes that you discarded before you went to sleep. You can’t find them anywhere. Sighing, you run your hand over your face before you reach for the water bottle on his nightstand when you notice the open drawer. You move closer to it, placing your bare feet on the carpet, you go to close the drawer when a picture catches your attention.

Curiosity gets the best of you and you reach for the picture before you can stop yourself from doing so. A smile tugs at your lips, it’s one of Eddie at his graduation, next to him is his uncle Wayne, you have seen pictures of him before. On the other side of him is– who you assume to be Steve, the hair gives it away. He is pretty.

“I can explain– you aren’t even listening to me! Hey.. come on, don’t do this right now.”

You raise your head and stare at the open door, placing the picture back into the drawer, you get up. Furrowing your brows as you hear his distressed voice.

“Chris…calm down!” he yells in a hushed whisper, “please.. just stop calling her that.”

A weird feeling settles in your chest as you walk towards the stairs. You should stay in his room and wait for him to finish the conversation but something pulls you in.

“No… N-No, that’s not what I want,” he mumbles with uncertainty in his voice.

“Yes.. I’m sure.”

You swallow nervously. For a moment the house is filled with silence, thinking that he hung up the phone, you make your way downstairs but quickly halt in your tracks when his voice grows louder and angrier.

“I’m not coming home, don’t you get it? This is all I ever wanted and things are going pretty fucking well for me right now– since when?” he scoffs, mocking the person on the phone, “are you serious, Chris? We have an album, an actual album! We’re throwing concerts, shit– we’re in the magazine but this is all you fucking care about right? Did you even listen to the songs?”

“Of course you didn’t,” he scoffs, laughing.

Your heart begins to pound in your chest and a bad feeling settles in.

The name Chris sounds unfamiliar to you, he has never mentioned anyone with that name before but something tells you that it’s someone close to him with the way this conversation is going.

Is it a friend, a relative… a partner?

Your stomach drops as you think of the possibility of him having someone waiting for him back home but Eddie has never mentioned a relationship before and he told you everything. Still, the conversation makes you suspicious.

He hangs up the phone, slamming the receiver into it’s place, startling you.

You blink, running your fingers through your messy hair as you finally make your way downstairs. You can hear him pacing around in the living room, mumbling something under his breath.

You lean against the doorframe and clear your throat.

Eddie turns around, eyes widening at the sight of you standing there with your arms crossed over your chest, a worried look on your beautiful face.

“Everything okay?” you ask.

He blinks, staring at you nervously. Wondering if you have heard anything, he hopes not but the look on your face gives it away and his heart drops to his stomach.

You can’t know, you can’t find out about her. He doesn’t want you to find out, not after how close you have gotten.

He nods, “y-yeah,” he mumbles as he scratches the back of his neck nervously. He looks at you with guilt in his eyes.

Chrissy called him because of the article and the pictures of you and him and she wasn’t very nice when it came to you, despite not knowing a thing about you, she cursed you out for being so close to a taken man– as if you know anything.

Eddie felt the urge to protect you from his girlfriend. The things she said about you made him livid. He didn’t take her words kindly at all and if anything they made him see her in a different light, one that he hasn’t seen her in before.

“Are you sure?”

He nods, “yeah.”

Eddie quickly gets distracted by you. Standing there in nothing but his shirt, he finds himself relaxing. Your hair is messy, your lips a little puffy, you look so beautiful. His heart flutters in his chest as he thinks of the way it felt to lay next to you, to watch you sleep and be there with you in this way.

You nod but he can tell that you don’t believe him, he can see the suspicion in your eyes and that alone is enough to make him feel scared.

What is gonna happen when you find out about her?

Are you even gonna care?

After all, he doesn’t know how you feel about him. Maybe he is nothing more than a close friend to you. You never gave him any signs that you are interested in him. You are flirty but that might just be your nature.

He only knows how he feels about you and he knows that it’s definitely more than just platonic feelings.

“Do you want a coffee?” he asks, trying to lighten the tension in the room.

You try to figure him out as you watch him with a confused expression on your face. You have a bad feeling, a very bad feeling.

Eddie’s brown eyes stare back at you with an almost pleading look in them.

You shake your head, “n-no… uh, I’m gonna get going,” you mumble, almost feeling guilty when you see the sadness crossing his face, “I gotta get some stuff done before tonight.”

“Okay,” Eddie whispers.

He watches as you turn away from him without as much of a smile, which is unusual for you. You always give him a smile, no matter what.

If that hurts him so much already, what will happen when you find out the truth?

You walk back down a few minutes later, your bag hanging off your shoulder, Dr.Martens on your feet, you kept his shirt on.

“Didn’t feel like wearing the clothes from last night, I hope you don’t mind,” you point to his shirt– which unknowingly to you, is his favorite shirt.

He smiles as he watches you stop in front of him, “of course I don’t mind,” he whispers, “looks better on you than on me anyway.”

And just like that, the bad feeling in your chest is long forgotten and so is the conversation he was in just a few minutes ago. You look into his doe eyes and you almost feel nauseous at the feeling of those butterflies going wild in your stomach.

You blush and he notices, the way he always does.

“Stop,” you whisper, chuckling as you look down at yourself.

Eddie can’t stop himself from raising his hand towards your face and tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Why?” he whispers, “it’s the truth.”

Your breath hitches in your throat when you raise your head to look back into his eyes.

Everything around you disappears whenever you feel him so close to you, whenever you look into his pretty eyes and let yourself enjoy the feeling of his hands on your body. He makes you feel weak and strong at once, he makes your heart race and flutter, he makes your insides feel all tingly, he makes you feel excited and giddy and it scares you. You have never felt that way about anyone before.

You’re completely unaware that Eddie feels just the same but his feelings might be even more intense.

“Good morning, lovebirds.”

Gareth’s voice causes you to jump away from Eddie. His hand falls from your cheek and you both miss the feelings of the other right away.

Eddie looks up at his friend with an annoyed look on his face as he stares back at him with a grin.

“Sleep well?” he smirks, wiggling his brows as he looks between the two of you.

Eddie can see the flustered look on your face but there’s no way that you will actually show how flustered you really are.

“Actually,” you pause as you raise your head to look at Gareth with a smirk on your face, “not really, I heard those pathetic moans of yours after you took that pretty redhead into your room last night.”

Eddie lets out a loud laugh at your words, watching the way Gareth grows red.

“I– what?”

You snort, shaking your head as you walk towards the front door, you look back at Eddie one more time and give him a small smile, “see you later, boys.”

You don’t catch the dreamy look in his eyes as he watches you leave, neither do you notice the teasing smile Gareth gives Eddie.

The weeks after your first concert went by quickly. You threw one concert after the other, all while the band was gaining more popularity every day. You got invited to festivals, your concerts got bigger and much more crowded. The fanbase was getting larger and something you have been worried about the most was that people wouldn’t like you, that they wouldn’t appreciate you joining the band but quite the opposite happened. The people love you– something that Eddie had already predicted before you even joined them at one of their gigs.

Hell, you even had your own fan base now.

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie hates your fans– well, he hates the men that lust over you. Too many times he had to watch them flirt with you, some even tried to grope you when you passed them on your way out of the venue. You easily dealt with those men yourself but Eddie still stepped in, the urge to protect you at all times was big, especially with how much popularity you were getting in such a short amount of time.

Neither of you expected things to go so quickly, to get so much fame and success. While you were confident in the band, you still didn’t expect things to go this well but it was getting better and better. Before you knew it, you were going on tour.

Standing under the California sun, you stare at the tour bus with a smile on your face. The black and red color was picked out by Eddie and the design of the band name was picked out by you.

Wrapping his arm around your shoulder, Eddie grins at you, “you ready to go on tour, rockstar?”

Smiling up at him, you wrap your arm around his waist as you lean into his chest.

The weeks following up to this moment, brought you and Eddie even closer. What started off with a friendship, turned into something more, something you can’t even describe but it feels like you have known him forever.

You feel comfortable around him, you can let loose around him, you feel safe with him. You can laugh with him and have deep conversations, you can dream together and most importantly, you can make all this amazing music together– you are just better together.

You’re a good team.

At this point, you can already consider him your best friend but you can’t help but wish that he was more than just that.

“Hell yeah,” you grin, “what about you?”

He laughs, “God, I’ve been waiting for this moment all my life.”

“And now we finally get to be rockstars,” Jeff chuckles as he comes up behind the two of you, “let’s get the show on the road,” he says as he pats Eddie’s back before he steps inside the tour bus with a huge smile on his face.

You chuckle as you watch him, the smile isn’t just because of the tour, it’s all because of all the kisses he just received from your friend, Wren before she left.

“Didn’t think we’d ever make it this far.”

You raise your brow, “really?”

Eddie nods, pushing his sunglasses up into his curls, he reveals his pretty brown eyes that are shining with happiness.

“Yeah,” he sighs, “I thought that we’d throw a few concerts, get these few moments at the festival and that’s all but look at us now.”

Your smile grows bigger, nodding at his words, you squeeze his waist, “look at us now,” you whisper.

“I’m so excited,” he grins.

“So am I, especially for Chicago and New york– oh, I’m also excited for Indianapolis. I’ll finally get to meet the pretty boy, right?” you smirk.

Eddie rolls his eyes at your words, “yeah, yeah..” he mumbles, “you’ll meet Steve and Uncle Wayne.”

You giggle at the annoyance in his voice. He always gets this grumpy whenever you bring up his best friend.

You get on the tour bus after saying goodbye to Sam, hugging the older man and giving him an excited smile before you leave.

Eddie is about to follow you when Sam stops him with a hand on his arm, “hold up,” he says.

“You want another hug?” Eddie jokes as he looks at the manager that became his friend. He furrows his brows when he sees the concerned look on his face.

“Take care of her, alright?”

Eddie knows that you mean a lot to the older man, he treats you like you’re his daughter. Being a friend of your dad, Sam knows you from when you were little, always tagging along with your dad. He brought you everywhere, concerts, interviews, the recording studio.

Eddie knows about your dad and he knows about what happened to him. He just doesn’t know the whole story.

“I will,” Eddie nods.

“Kid reminds me too much of her dad.”

Something about the way he said that, doesn’t sit well with Eddie. He knows that you loved your dad, you only ever had good things to say about him but the look on Sam’s face was one of concern and worry.

“That’s a bad thing?” Eddie asks him slowly.

Sam hesitates, looking up before his eyes meet Eddie’s again, “just keep her out of trouble, okay?”

Eddie nods, “of course. I will, Sam.”

With one last goodbye, he parts ways with him and follows you into the tour bus. You're standing in front of the boys with a little notebook in your hand as they all stare at you in curiosity.

“What do you got there?” Eddie asks as he comes up behind you.

You turn your head to look at him, raising the book in your hand, you show it to him, “a diary.”

“Oh,” Gareth smirks, “is that where you keep all your dirty secrets?” he asks, wiggling his brows.

You roll your eyes and turn back to him, “shut up.”

“Or is that where you write about your dirty dreams about Edd– ouch!” he shrieks as you hit his head with the diary, “Jesus Christ, woman!”

“I told you to shut up, Gareth!”

The others around you laugh, not noticing the flustered look on your face.

“I’m just telling the truth!” He mumbles as he holds his hands over his head.

You give him a warning look and he holds his hands up in surrender, “okay, okay…. Jeez…”

You turn back to Eddie who watches you with a fond smile on his face.

“This is not my diary, it’s our diary. It’s a tour diary. We’re all gonna write something in here,” you explain, “you can also add pictures– I brought my polaroid camera. And I want all of you to write something, even if it’s just something short. I just want us to keep these memories here, you know?”

They all nod at your words.

“But no one can look at what the others are writing, no peeking, nothing. We’re gonna do that when we’re done with this tour.”

Gareth groans, “really?”

“Yeah.”

“But I wanna see what you write about E–”

This time you throw the book at him and he ducks just in time.

Eddie laughs, shaking his head as he watches Gareth run away when you try to catch him.

He can already tell, this is going to be the best tour.

Tour day 1

We’re in Phoenix! It’s our first concert of the tour and I’m fucking nervous but I got my firefly with me so it’s all good. We’re gonna rock this. -Eddie

Eddie places a polaroid picture between the pages. It’s one of you holding his guitar with a big smile on your face. Using the pen, he writes ‘my firefly & my sweetheart’ on the picture.

“Aww, my firefly,” Gareth whispers, startling Eddie.

“Dude!” Eddie frowns, pushing his friend away as he shuts the diary, “you’re not supposed to look!”

Gareth smirks as he sits back again, “couldn’t help myself.”

“You’re a menace,” Eddie sighs, shaking his head.

“Why firefly?” he asks with a curious look on his face.

Eddie shrugs, not feeling like answering the question.

You’re the lightbringer in his life, maybe that’s why.

The concert went better than expected. You were all nervous, despite all the concerts you already had, you were still scared that something would go wrong but it was perfect.

Tour day 10

Gareth fucked a groupie in the back lounge just so y/n had to sleep in Eddie’s bunk but instead she slept on the couch. Fucking idiot. -Jeff

You didn’t expect to walk in on Gareth fucking a girl in your bed.

Since you’re the only girl surrounded by all the boys, including the bus driver and the tour manager, the boys have given you the back lounge as your bedroom, just so you could have a little more privacy but Gareth obviously didn’t care.

After the long day that you had, all you wanted to do was sleep in the surprisingly cozy bed but you were forced to sleep on the awfully uncomfortable couch instead.

You woke up with a sore back and a headache. You fixed yourself a cup of coffee when Eddie joined you in the little kitchen.

“Good morning–” he stopped as he saw the grumpy look on your face, “what’s wrong?”

You took a sip of your coffee before you answered the question.

“He brought a girl to your room?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed, rolling your eyes, “I slept on the stupid couch.”

“You could have slept with me.”

“Don’t be silly,” you whispered nervously, “it’s too tight in there.”

Eddie shrugs, “I don’t mind.”

Tour day 15

We performed in Dallas, it was a pretty good night until y/n stage dived and Eddie almost had a heart attack when a fan kissed her.

“You can’t just do that!” Eddie scolded you in the backstage area, “that asshole could’ve done much worse.”

You rolled your eyes and giggled, “oh come on, it wasn’t that bad!”

Eddie’s forehead was coated in sweat, the exhaustion from performing all night was clear on his face.

“He kissed you!” he yelled, not even hiding the jealousy in his voice.

“And I kissed him back,” you snorted as you pushed past him, “maybe I’m gonna fuck him too. I’m single, I can fuck some groupies, Gareth does it all the time, I can do it too, right?”

Eddie grabbed your arm and pulled you back, eyes filled with anger, chest rising up and down heavily as he stared at you.

Jealousy and anger is all he felt in that moment.

“I don’t want you to do that.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, “why not?”

Eddie pulled you closer, close enough for his lips to brush against yours. Your breath hitched in your throat and your heart stopped beating for a second, “because you’re not for him to touch.”

Your lips parted in surprise.

Adrenaline was cursing through your veins and through his, you know that it might have been a heat of the moment kind of thing for him to say but you hoped that it wasn’t.

“Says who?” you asked as you eyed his lips.

“Me.”

He moved even closer to you, leaning in, his lips brushed against your cheek as his hand rested on your lower back now.

“I should be the only one who gets to touch you like this.”

Something had changed between you, not just that night but long before that.

You felt it. He felt it.

It happened that night at the Karaoke bar, it happened at the beach. It happened the night you stayed over at his place for the first time.

The tension was growing bigger and bigger and it was finally getting too much for you to ignore.

Tour day 20

Turns out that asshole’s plan worked after all, y/n slept in Eddie’s bed last night. -Jeff

Gareth has stolen your room once again and there was just no way that you would sleep on that awful couch again. Pacing around the lounge room, you consider Eddie’s offer to sleep in the bunk with him but after what happened in Dallas and after the things he said to you, you weren’t sure if it would be such a good idea to sleep with him.

Something shifted in the air and suddenly there was a different kind of tension between the two of you after that night.

Before this, you have never thought of Eddie in this way.

He is attractive, he is hot, beautiful and so much more. You were aware of that from the moment you laid eyes on him but your mind never really wandered. You liked the way it felt when he hugged you or kissed your cheek or how he held your hand every chance he got but you never thought about what it would feel like to fuck him, not until after the things he said to you.

“God,” you sighed as your eyes fell on the couch once again, “nope..” you mumbled to yourself before you tiptoed your way towards his bunk. Licking your lips, you take a deep breath, “Eddie,” you whispered as you played with your fingers, “a-are you awake?”

He pushed the curtain to the side almost immediately, tired eyes finding yours.

“Can I sleep with you?”

Eddie smiled as he looked at you, you're so fucking cute it makes his heart ache in his chest.

“Of course,” he whispered as he scooted back a little, holding the blanket up for you.

“Thank you,” you whispered as you lay down next to him, getting comfortable in his bed. Eddie leaned over you to close the curtain again before he laid back.

Your body wash and shampoo filled his senses and it made him smile, he loves it.

He was close, so close. The bed is definitely not big enough for two people and the feeling of his hand disappearing under the blanket and coming to a rest on your bare hip almost stole your breath away.

Suddenly, you wished that you had stayed on the couch, this was too much.

His touch ignited something in you, it made your skin feel hot, it made your heart race, it made your stomach swirl with butterflies, it made you squeeze your thighs together and as you felt him moving closer to you, his bare thigh touching your skin, his hand moving lower, you felt yourself clenching around nothing.

God, what was happening to you?

“Gareth fucking one of his girls in your room again?” he asked.

“Y-Yes,” you whispered, “I was so excited to go to sleep, I wasn’t aware that he stole my room while I was in the shower.”

Eddie chuckled, “I think he is starting to do that on purpose.”

“To piss me off?” you asked.

“No,” he whispered, “I think he wanted you to do this.”

“Sleep in your bed?” you asked in confusion.

“Mhmm, with the way he has been teasing you all this time.”

“But why would he want that?”

Eddie laughs at your question, thinking it’s cute how clueless you are.

“You’re a little clueless, aren’t you, Sweetheart?” he asked lovingly as he cupped your cheek.

His husky voice, the smell of his shampoo and aftershave, the feeling of his touch and his hands pulling you closer drove you crazy.

Unlike you, Eddie has thought of it many times before, what it would feel like to touch you, to kiss your lips, to kiss your neck, to kiss your thighs, to taste you and hear your pretty moans. He wondered what it would feel like to fuck you, make you mewl for him. He thought about how pretty you would look squirming beneath his body as he split you open with his big cock. Too many times, he jerked himself off in the tiny bathroom on this tour bus to the thought of it after a concert, after watching you perform in one of your skimpy outfits.

Shame and guilt fills him after he cums all over his hand to the thought of you every single time and yet it doesn’t stop him from doing it again.

But he felt none of the guilt that night, when you laid there in his bed, in his arms.

He didn’t feel guilty when he thought about taking the risk and kissing you.

He didn’t feel guilty when he pushed his leg between your thighs.

“Eddie,” you whispered shakily when you felt his hand move under your shirt, his palm sliding up your bare back, “what are you doing?”

“Is that too much?”

“N-No.”

You should stop him, something inside you told you to push him away, to leave but you couldn't, not when his touch made you feel so good.

“Good,” he whispered as he pulled you closer until you were completely pressed against him.

Your gasp made his dick twitch and you felt it, he knows you did. He pulled you on top of him and you used the opportunity to lay your head in the crook of his neck, your lips brushed against his sensitive skin and he almost moaned at the feeling.

Your heart was racing and you were convinced that Eddie had felt it all.

It was innocent at first, nothing happened, you just laid there in each other's embrace until he broke the silence.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked as he rubbed your back.

“Mhmm..”

“D-Did something happen that night in Dallas?” he asked, “with the guy?”

“No,” you whispered, “nothing happened after the kiss.”

There is only one man that you want.

You felt him relax, a relieved sigh fell from his lips.

“Why are you asking?”

He lowered his hands until he was holding your hips. There was nothing on his mind right now, nothing except for you and the need to feel you. His heart was longing for you, his hands were itching to touch your bare skin, to make you feel good.

You could feel his breath on your neck and you shuddered against him.

He bucked his thigh up until it was pressed against your center and a desperate whine fell from your lips.

“Because I don’t want anyone else to touch you like this,” he whispered as he pressed against your hips, making you grind against his thigh, “I wanna be the only one.”

You gasped at the feeling of your throbbing pussy grinding against his thigh, “E-Eddie,” you whimpered as you arched your back, placing your hands on his chest, you rose up a little, “w-what are you doing…” you moaned as you felt his lips latch onto your neck, “this is wrong.”

He should be scared, he should panic, he should stop but he doesn’t.

“Then why does it feel so right?” he asked as he felt your wetness soaking through the thin material of your panties.

“We shouldn’t do this,” you whispered but began to grind against his thigh nonetheless, “this isn’t right.”

He should be the one saying these things, not you.

He pressed you down harder, made you grind faster against him. He watched your face contort into pleasure.

“Forget about everything, baby,” he whispered, “just let me make you feel good.”

You bit your lip and focused on his voice, on his touch, on him.

“Use me,” he said as he kissed your neck, “ride my thigh,” he moaned as your fingers brushed his hard dick.

He was in control and something inside you hated that he did, something inside you told you that this was so very wrong but you didn’t listen to that tiny voice in your head, you never did.

Instead of riding his thigh, you pushed him back and straddled him until his clothed dick was pressed against your center. You wrapped your hand around his throat as you began to grind your needy pussy against his dick.

“F-Fuck…. baby,” he moaned as he grabbed your waist tightly, “shit, y/n… what are you doing to me?”

“Shhh…” you whispered, “you told me to use you, didn’t you?” you asked as you continued to grind against him.

He nods.

“So let me use you and be quiet, pretty boy.”

He chants your name like it’s a prayer and you can’t even stop yourself from moaning like a desperate slut.

You didn’t want this to happen, not like this but the tension was too much to bear.

You wanted him, needed him.

“Please… please… please,” he whimpered as he cupped your cheeks, pushing your hair out of your face so he could see you. He pulled you closer until your forehead was resting against his, lips brushing against each other.

“Mhmmm, Eddie..” you moaned and wrapped your arms around his neck, “please I need more…”

That’s all it took for him to flip you over on your back and rip your panties off, parting your legs rather aggressively as he finally touched you after all these months of wondering and fantasizing about what it would feel like to see you and touch you like this.

He moaned when he saw your dripping cunt for the first time, “fuck… baby, you are so pretty…” he whispered, licking his lips before he pushed a finger into you.

It wasn't a fantasy any longer, this moment was real, so very real. Finally he got to touch you, he got to feel your bare skin, he got to make you feel good, he got to hear your moans, you pretty face contorted into pleasure and Eddie couldn't help but wish for this moment to be forever.

You arched your back in pleasure and slapped a hand over your mouth as you felt his ringed finger inside your wet pussy.

He leaned over you as he began to move his finger in and out of you, for a moment he stared at your pussy and the way you took his finger so well, he added another finger and began to fuck you faster, harder and deeper.

Your pussy was soaked, squelching noises filled the tight space and you would have been embarrassed if it wasn’t for him moaning at the sound.

“Fuck…. y/n, you’re driving me crazy,” he whimpered as his dark eyes looked into your tear filled ones. His free hand moved yours away, “don’t hide those pretty sounds from me,” he whispered with a smirk on his face.

Your eyes rolled back as he curled his fingers inside of you and began to fuck you even faster.

“Eddie….” you whimpered.

You arched your back in pleasure and moved your arm around him, pulling him closer.

“Feels good….. so good.”

Your cunt clenched around his fingers and he moaned at the feeling of it, wondering what it would feel like to feel your tight little pussy around his big cock.

You looked down and watched how he split you open with his long fingers, you moaned and whimpered at the sight, mewling at the feeling of his lips on your neck.

“You’re perfect, so fucking perfect. You got no idea how many times I fucked myself to the thought of this.”

His words brought you closer and closer to the edge.

“You’re such a perfect little thing, baby,” he whispered against your neck.

His thumb began to rub your clit and you had to bite down on his shoulder to keep yourself from screaming out and revealing this moment to all the others on this bus.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he asked as he fucked your tight pussy until you were crying.

“Mhmm, yours, all yours.”

"Mine, all mine," he whispered as his heart fluttered in his chest when you nodded.

"I'm all yours."

“Good girl,” he husked into your ear before he made you cum around his fingers and made you watch how he licked them clean, moaning around his own fingers.

Your eyes widened and he smirked at you.

“You taste as delicious as you look, princess.”

Eddie Munson will be the death of you.

Tour day 21

I think they fucked ;) -Gareth

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raina-at · 3 days

Text

Empty

Bakers, again.

----

Hospital tea is awful. Hospital food is worse. Sometimes Sherlock thinks hospitals provide awful food on purpose, to keep patients motivated to get well as soon as possible just to escape the food.

He knows it’s not true, of course. Hospital kitchens cook for the lowest common denominator, and more often than not, sick people don’t have the most refined palette anyway.

Still, there is no excuse for this croissant. It’s dry, tasteless, hard as a rock, and the jam inside is present on a molecular level at best. This pastry could be qualified as a hate crime against the French, or a human rights violation.

Or, Sherlock is angry and trying to take it out on the croissant instead of yelling at the person lying in the hospital bed he’s currently sitting next to.

Or maybe both.

It’s fuck o’clock in the morning, as John would say, and quite honestly, Sherlock would rather be anywhere else. If he has to be here, the least this hospital could do for him is a decent cup of tea and a mediocre pastry, instead of distilled bathwater and this abomination.

There’s an audible groan from the bed. Blue eyes blink open and look blearily at Sherlock.

“What the actual fuck…”

“Good bloody morning to you too, I hope you feel like shit,” Sherlock says, his voice as brittle as his smile.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Harry groans, closing her eyes against the dim light. “And where the fuck is here?”

“Glad you asked,” Sherlock says in a mockingly cheerful tone. “We just had a thoroughly delightful night together, you, me, and your brother, who’s just stepped out to phone your work and make up some bullshit excuse why you can’t be in today. See, it all started at one on the bloody morning, when your neighbour phoned John to inform him that he heard a loud bump and crash from your flat. Your brother decided he couldn’t just wait until morning to see whether you’d actually managed to off yourself this time, and so we went to check on you. We found you delightfully unconscious, lying in a pool of your own blood from a nasty head wound.”

“I must have tripped and fallen,” Harry mutters rebelliously.

“We found this next to you.” Sherlock holds up an empty vodka bottle. “Coincidence? Probably not.”

Harry looks away, turns her head towards the window. “Fuck off,” she mutters, quietly defiant like always.

“Oh, believe me, I would love to. But as long as you insist on dragging your brother through hell, I’m along for the ride, I’m afraid.”

“I didn’t phone him! I never asked for his help! Why does he always have to stick his fucking nose into my business? Who asked him?” Harry’s voice is raspy and raw from the alcohol and emotion, and she’s glaring daggers at Sherlock.

“Would you rather he let you die?” Sherlock asks acerbically. “Is that how selfish you are? Don’t you realise what that would do to him?”

“Yes, and who the fuck cares what it does to me,” she mutters.

“You are an adult,” Sherlock says, leaning closer and holding Harry’s angry gaze. “And furthermore, you are not my responsibility. But your brother damned well is, and it’s my job to protect and support him to the best of my ability. And quite frankly, he’s at the end of his tether, Harriet. I’m not sure how much more of this he can take.”

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite, you know that, right?” she whispers, tears gathering in her eyes. “You act all high and mighty, like you’re so much better than me, when you’re one fucking weak moment away from ending up right down here next to me.”

Sherlock rubs a tired hand over his face. She’s right, of course. He’s a junkie. A sober junkie, but there is no cure for addiction. He will always be tempted. He will always be one needle prick away from the abyss. But that is very much not the point.

“You’re right, of course. I understand the rock bottom you’re hitting every time you disappear into that bottle better than most people. And I’ve been where you are. I’ve bitten the hand that tried to help me up, again and again. I regarded it as entirely my brother’s problem that he didn’t just wash his hands of me when I was at my lowest. But if he’d done that, I would be dead. And he would have to carry that guilt for the rest of his life. I don’t want that for John. Do you?”

She looks away, tears now streaming freely down her face. He has little sympathy, because he suspects she mainly feels sorry for herself, not for anyone else.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” she mutters.

Sherlock sighs, feeling his anger slowly drain out of him. This is pointless. Addiction is complicated, nobody knows this better than him. No rousing speech will change the grip the bottle has on her. And all the love she has for her brother—and she does love him, as much as she resents him at times—won’t make her get sober. He can’t articulate, to this day, why he managed to drag himself out of that black hole. Resources helped, sure. But he doesn’t know what changed, what shifted within himself, to make it possible for him to accept the help that was offered to him.

And nothing will keep John from extending a hand, again and again, until she’s ready to take it.

“I don’t know,” he finally admits. “I…” he looks down at his hands, then admits quietly, “I can’t fix this for him. I want to, and I can’t.”

“I’m trying, Sherlock. I’ll keep trying. I’ll probably fail again, but believe me, I am trying,” she says quietly.

Sherlock doesn’t answer, but he gives her a short nod as acknowledgement, because he believes her. It doesn’t necessarily make a difference, and he hates how much she keeps hurting John, but he does believe her.

She’s trying. She’ll keep trying. They all will keep trying.

And maybe someday, they can break this vicious circle. Maybe someday, she’ll stop hurting John and Sherlock can forgive her.

Until then, he’s here, because John needs him to be. And as much as he would like to fight and slay all of John’s dragons for him, that’s never going to happen. Life doesn’t work that way. But what he can do is fight alongside him. And that’s what they’ll do. They’ll fight this dragon together until they slay it.

“Don’t eat the croissants,” he tells her, as close to forgiveness as he will get as long as she keeps hurting John. “I’ll make you some topfengloatschen later.”

“Five years in, and you still can’t fucking pronounce golatsche,” Harry says, but she’s smiling at him in silent gratitude.

“Shut up,” he says, returning the smile.

Truce restored, he thinks. I wonder when we will finally have peace.

----

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